Atros Imperium
Author: Terry78
Date: 2024-04-19T11:36:29.999000+00:00

Chapter 000 - Vol 1 - Prologue

Chapter 000:

Anton hated the rain. It streaked down, cleaning the air of dust and grease, leaving thin remains to grow on the bus window. He lazily traced his right hand following one of the streaks, almost trying to reach out and touch the rain that defined his old life.

His right hand only had 4 fingers. At times he felt like he could still feel his missing wedding ring finger. Apparently, he lost it to a dog attack while he was trying to save someone as a child. Perhaps a young boy or girl or someone older, it was all a blur and no longer mattered to him. It didn’t hurt, it just felt numb. His “disfigurement” was about the only distinctive thing about him, at least from Anton’s perspective; Ash blond hair always kept short and swept back, hazel eyes with flecks of green and slightly above average height and build. It had always allowed Anton to go relatively unnoticed.

He sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to have even the slightest interest at this sight of this pollution or even the city itself. Every day and night he saw the same thing for over a decade. Each day adding another layer of grime to the city like nature herself was trying to bury this place in its’ own filth. He wasn’t particularly bitter against the city, it just felt hard to care when it didn’t seem to want to help itself. Today it was raining especially heavily. For some reason, it always seems to rain heaviest whenever something bad happened.

A pointless job handling complaints was the best Anton could hope for considering his past. A downside was the depressingly unimaginative black suit with blue tie he was forced to wear each day, just like the one he was wearing now. His boss, Martha, had been particularly brutal today. She was a short and fat creature that enjoyed inflicting psychological pain on people. He knew that most of the other people were worse workers than himself but that had no influence over Martha. If he was honest with himself, she had once tried to make advances but Anton had blown her off badly. Today’s outburst was for a single spelling mistake, causing her to fly into a rage about how useless he was. Anton finally snapped after months of abuse, nearly hitting her before a tirade of his own, calling her everything he had kept bottled up for months. By the end Martha was in tears, unable to speak. Anton left without saying anything, unsure if he would have a job the next day. At least he would be able to drown his sorrows without interruption.

Home. It never felt the same after the day his parents died. 23 and still living at home. His colleagues would have booed and jeered him if they knew, but moving houses for the sake of it never interested Anton. Perhaps it didn’t help more advanced relationships with the opposite sex. There were more interesting things on his mind, things that he gave up after his parents died. Things he no longer had the time or energy to even contemplate. Despite the emptiness of his home, it did offer him respite from the day.

Anton looked past the greasy rain. The bus had stopped. Traffic. Gang members and prostitutes swaggered to the stopped traffic, hoping to sell their wares. Occasionally he saw someone he recognized. Sometimes he wanted to return to his old lifestyle; the power and control he had command, it excited him. However, the urge to return was crushed by the despair and horror from that day.

A jolt shattered his internal distractions, returning him to the present. It took him a while to remind himself of his surroundings. There were around 20 people on the bus of all ages. A few young couples flirting, some schoolkids busy tapping on their phones, and a few elderly women chatting happily away on the front seats. Anton smiled bitterly at this, knowing that his problems mean nothing to them.

“Are you okay? You look a little-troubled dear.”

Anton turned away from the window and looked to his left. There sat a small elderly woman. Anton had barely noticed her sitting next to him. Despite looking over 80 years old and arthritic she still had a bright smile on her face and a spritely attitude. Her grey hair was still long and pulled back into a ponytail. However, she still wore the customary elderly beige cardigan.

Anton was usually quite jubilant, although today he knew that he was quite a depressing sight.

“I…I’m okay, thanks…?”

“Janet.”

Anton did remember her. She was always on the bus at this time, always wanting to talk to someone. Anton didn’t mind, she was good for a laugh.

“Janet, right. Sorry. Just had a rough day. I think I may have gotten myself fired.”

Anton forced a smile but Janet didn’t seem to like it.
“Well, I don’t think I can help with that, but…”

Janet pulled her bright green handbag off the floor with some effort. Her bones and joints creaked under the effort. Anton helped her with the final hoist, getting a silent “thank you”. Janet reached in, searching for what seemed an age before finally finding it. The bus lurched as it started to move again. Janet let out a little sound before showing what she had brought out.

It was a small bag of candy, Anton had seen these before.

“Ginger candy, I make them myself. Can’t buy them like these!”

Janet reached into the bad, pulling out a small orange cube smothered in sugar crystals. Anton hesitated but decided that it wasn’t some kind of trick. He popped it in his mouth. The sugar rush was an incredible burst. Then the ginger came, he felt his mouth and nose heat up. He breathed out, his mouth and sinuses now clear. Janet smiled at him.

“See? It helps with these situations. Whenever I’m having a spot of bother I just pop one of these in and everything becomes so much simpler.”

Anton wasn’t about to correct her spelling, another bad habit of his which limited his friendship. It did help, he was able to focus a lot better now. At least now he could think with a less clouded mind. He’d go back tomorrow and at least try to talk things out with Martha, at the very least part on decent terms.

“Thank you, Janet. I think it did help.”

“No problem…?”

“Oh, Anton. Anton Thorn”

Janet chuckled.

“That’s a silly name”

Anton sighed.

“Yeah… I always get that.”

“Well, Mr Thorn, I hope that it helps.”

They sat there in silence for several minutes, Janet still smiling inanely.

The bus lurched to a halt again, this bus driver appeared to be a terrible driver. The doors hissed open. Not one left but five people got on. Anton glanced over, a chill running down his spine. He knew those people. Bad people. They wore hoodies and jackets, all with symbols of a white snake on their front and back. Vipers, they liked to be called.

Once the Vipers had been the strongest gang in the city, making millions every day from drugs, extortion and prostitution. In three months they were now a shadow of their former selves, most dead or arrested and the rival gangs moving in. These five appeared to some of the few loyalists left, and they were on the same bus as Anton. They were looking around as they walked in, checking out the faces of every person. Anton saw the Lead Viper turn to the side. He had a square impression on his hip. A pistol. Janet must have seen it too, she brought her bag close and tried to huddle to reduce her size. Anton whispered to her to put the bag beneath. Perhaps the Vipers wouldn’t find it.
The lead Viper walked halfway along the bus, then nodded towards the other members. They turned and pulled out their guns, pointing them at the passengers. Some of the younger girls started to scream, the rest letting out gasps of shock. One of the schoolgirls screamed especially loud and quickly received a whip from a gun to her face. She cried even more, clutching a red imprint on her cheek, though one of her friends covered her mouth to suppress the screams to stop further violence. The Viper closest to the door pointed his gun at the bus driver.

“All right everyone, you know the fucking drill. Everything of value, you give it up right now, unless you want a bullet to the head. Busman! Keep fucking driving until I say otherwise.”

The lead Viper was talking with a stupid accent, something that was expected of low-level grunts of the gangs. Anton was sure they just watched gangster movies for their training, they even held them on their side. There was no control or grace in their actions; their target was swinging wildly from one person to another, trying to keep control of the situation, feet always shuffling. These were amateurs, except for the Lead Viper making the threats. He was still and calm.

Anton saw Janet almost whimpering. He patted her hand, whispering that they would probably leave after getting enough money, hopefully, they were those sort of mobsters. Janet looked a little relieved. He continued to look around, the other passengers were obeying the instructions; phones, wallets, watches and jewellery, all went into a backpack. The lead Viper continued to walk through the bus, gesturing with his gun towards the backpack. Finally, it was Anton’s turn. The Viper looked towards Anton, sight glancing over him. He passed Anton before stopping, his shoes’ thump silencing the bus. Slowly he walked backwards until he was opposite Anton. Anton tried to keep looking forward.

“Well, well. Look who we got here. I’d never thought I see you again. How’s life?”

The lead Viper leaned over and rested his arm on the back of the chair in front. Anton finally looked over to the lead Viper. The Viper smiled. Some of his teeth were missing, the rest green and rotting. His breath felt rotten and sickly sweet at the same time. He obviously hadn’t shaved in weeks and hadn’t bothered to comb or cut his hair. The rest of his face had sores and deep scratches, signs of drug abuse. Anton didn’t recognize him.

“Do I know you?”

The lead Viper twitched slightly.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. It’s been what, almost a year now. Name’s Jacobs. Do you remember now?!”

Jacobs, as he called himself, reached passed Janet, trying to get Anton to his feet. The bus lurched again. Anton could see that they were now coming to a hill. Jacobs grabbed Janet, pushing and throwing her into a seat behind him with no care for her age. She landed on the seat with a slight “ow”, though Jacobs paid no mind. Her eyes appeared more concerned with Anton’s safety and so did most of the other passengers.

“No.”

The calmness and matter-of-fact tone nearly pushed Jacobs over the edge. He raised his gun at Anton, shaking under his anger.

“After everything you did to us you piece of shit, everything…You fucking destroyed us! Look at us, having to rob some poor ass fucking bus for scraps. All because of you.”

Jacobs’s eyes were filling with anger. Anton knew that this might be it, although it may be approaching there wasn’t any feeling of dread or despair like before.

Odd that I think that it doesn’t matter what happens.

At the moment he didn’t have much to live for. His uncaring attitude angered Jacobs even more.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Jacobs and Anton looked towards the front. The Viper pointing the gun at the bus driver was panicking.

“Hey, stop it. Stop it!”

He yelled again and again. The bus driver was holding his chest, hands not on the wheel.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

How stupid are these people? The man’s having a fucking heart attack ‘cause you keep waving that gun in his face and he thinks that I’m about to get killed by your buddy Jacobs.
Anton didn’t say anything, keeping his thoughts to himself.

The bus starting to swerve wildly as they went over the top of the hill. Jacobs was having a hard time keep the gun trained on Anton and keeping everything under control. The bus continued to speed up, crashing into parked vehicles, sending the occupants flying with each hit.

Anton took the chance, lunging at Jacobs. He grabbed his right hand and raised the pistol. Anton didn’t “work-out” but he did try to keep in shape. Jacobs shrieked as Anton put all of his force into crushing his drug-addled wrist. His cry caught the attention of the other Vipers, all pointing their guns at the struggling pair. Anton stepped behind Jacobs, keep him between the other Vipers. Anton could smell Jacobs’s foul breath, becoming more ragged each second as they struggled. They held this for some time before Jacobs let out a screech, collapsing his legs and causing Anton to stumble forwards. Jacobs used this opportunity, using all the strength he had to push against where Janet sat, throwing Anton back to his original seat. His head cracked into the glass window. It hadn’t done any serious damage to him. He was sure there would be marks on the glass but did disorient Anton for a second. There was a click. Jacobs had gotten the gun and was now pointing it straight at Anton.

“Ha, now what have you….”

Jacobs’s eyes twitched, no longer focusing on Anton. They were no longer filled with anger but now with fear, panic and despair. Anton looked past Jacobs, seeing two lights reflected in the far windows. The other passengers were no longer looking at either of them but beyond. A sinking feeling overcame Anton. He began to turn around, looking towards the front. The other Vipers were looking behind him as well, stun and shock plastered on their faces. His peripheral vision showed what he dreaded, the headlights of another vehicle. Out the front, he could see the red of the traffic light diffused through the wet window. They had run a red light on a rainy day.

Shit.

The two vehicles collided. For a moment the crashing sound of shattering glass and groan of metal exploded in his ear, not that he or anyone else had time to truly process the implications. Within moments the shattered glass had left the window, spraying forward in jagged shards, ripping into skin, sending Anton’s blood and flesh flying. The metal broke and twisted as if it was alive, piercing first Anton’s body but then travelling through piercing those behind. Both vehicles merged and continued on their combined trajectory, finally crashing to a halt.

Anton’s vision was growing dark rapidly. He no longer had the ability to speak and barely enough to keep his eyes open. Every part of his body was eviscerated. As the darkness rapidly overcame him, he saw something orange and moving. Fire. He heard a scream and then everything went black.

Chapter 001 - Vol 1

Chapter 001:

The darkness continued when Anton’s consciousness resurfaced, yet there was nothing awaiting him.

How much longer? I died, I can figure that much out. Is this what people are left with? Just unending darkness until I go mad?

Anton had expected that at least something would have happened once he had died. Something; a white light, a person to judge his sin, even the fiery pits of hell would have been better than this.

Perhaps this is purgatory? I’ve never been a religious person but if they could tell us…

Anton’s thought was interrupted by a noise, he wasn’t sure what. Despite inwardly groaning for some time, only now did Anton truly become aware that he was lying down and had his eyes closed.

If I’ve been half-asleep mumbling…

He opened his eyes and rewarded with more darkness.

Great, either I’m blind or I’ve died. Or I’ve gone crazy in the last half hour.

That last thought gave him pause. How had he known that? It wasn’t a good sign for his sanity. He pulled himself upright, and noticed something disturbing; his body was illuminated. He was still wearing the same clothes when he died, except every tear had been repaired. It looked brand new.

Odd that I didn’t notice that.

Despite being illuminated himself everything else was dark.

“Hello?”

Anton felt slightly stupid for saying something like that but nothing else came to mind.

…Silence.

“Figures.”

“Oh…Hello.”

The reply jolted Anton. It sounded like an old man yet it sounded like it came from everywhere at once.

“Um… could you please…?”

“Hold on a second, I don’t want you to have to repeat everything when I get there.”

Anton waited a moment, finally hearing footsteps on whatever this floor was made out of. It had no texture or temperature yet its resistance was still present.

Eventually, an old man emerged from the darkness. He wore what could only be described as a toga with a purple sash. He was quite an odd sight; his face was round yet his eyes displayed a clear wisdom, with grey swept-back hair and a well-toned body despite his obvious age. He looked a senator of ancient Rome. He offered an old hand to Anton. Anton took the hand and rose to his feet. It was still surreal to him that he could stand in this place. The old man continued to look straight at Anton, his inane smile reminding him of Janet’s.

“I thought they got everyone. Looks like that wasn’t true.”

The old man rested his hand on his chin, looking down as if in deep thought. Anton couldn’t respond, shocked by what was happening in front of him. The old man started to agree with himself, nodding all the while. His eyes darted up towards Anton.

“Oh, so sorry. My mind does tend to wander at the most inappropriate times. My name is Stratos – God of Storms.”

Stratos, as he called himself, bowed dramatically. It took him some time to right himself with considerable groaning.

“Well, it looks like you missed that boring induction thing.”

Stratos nodded over his shoulder. That section of darkness receded slightly. Figures emerged from the darkness coming into focus. People, many people. Some of them looked familiar; hoodies, suits, uniforms and a silver ponytail.

Finally, some people that I know. Although there are more people that were on our bus. Did we take out another?

“Ah.”

The people faded, rippling back into the darkness.

“Hey! What happened?”

Stratos looked bemused before looking over his shoulder again.

“Oh, is that how long has passed? Um, how to put this,” Stratos turned back to Anton, putting his hands into his toga, “You’ve just missed it.”

“Missed what?”

“The summoning of course. That’s why we grabbed you guys”.

Anton looked on without an expression. Stratos cocked his head, still smiling.

“Well, we kind of needed foreign souls.”

Stratos eyes beamed with a fiery intensity.

So that’s meant to explain everything?

“Um, okay. Perhaps we should start from the beginning.”

Stratos gestured to his left. Surprisingly, there was a large round white table with four chairs. Anton was sure that it wasn’t there before. It appeared to be made from the same texture-less material as the floor. Anton was no longer surprised by this, he simply took a seat, Stratos taking the one to his right.

“So…,” Anton began, “I take it that I’m dead and this is some sort of afterlife?”

“Well, sort of. You’re dead alright. I saw you get shredded and then exploded.” Stratos imitated the explosion with his hands. “There’s no way you survived that.”

“So why am I in my body before the accident and why are they intact?”

“Because we are gods?”

“That’s…”

“To be honest, we don’t really understand everything we can do. Just because you can use it doesn’t mean you know exactly how it works.”

Hmmm, like electricity. I don’t understand exactly understand how electricity works but I could still use light switches.
Anton nodded.

“So where’s everyone else and where is this?”

“That’s a good question.”

Stratos didn’t appear to be lying. He leaned back in his chair.

“We think that it’s some sort of old dimension. There should be someone here to keep the natives in check but they’ve long since died out. For the meantime, we use it as sort of a way-station between worlds.”

“There are more like you?”

“Yeah, most of them aren’t as cultured as me though.” Stratos burped loudly and re-adjusted his crotch.

That was on purpose, but to what end? He might just be an eccentric god… wait, what?

It was something simple stated at the beginning which had been overlooked, this old man said he was a god, but was it true?

Before Anton could ask, another sound echoed throughout the darkness. This was clacking on the mysterious floor substance. Heels emerged from the darkness before the body. Red high heels with straps tight halfway up her long legs. The rest of her emerged from the darkness and it took Anton’s breath away. She wore a short red dress with rubies embedded as though they were sequins, slits on either side showing off what little of her legs it didn’t cover. Anton’s eyes travelled upwards. The dress barely covered her ample breasts yet there were no straps to hold it up as if it was being held up by magic. Beyond that her face would have been called handsome rather than beautiful, the sharp edges more befitting a warrior. What stumped Anton was not her blood red eyes but her hair. It was the same red as everything else but it flickered like a flame, wisps flying off as it swayed then disappearing into nothing. It was quite hypnotic to watch. She continued her approach, hips swaying with every step.

“Hello…. Stratos.”

Stratos slowly turned towards the red woman, obviously trying to irritate her. He saw her as she walked and stopped. Anton could see his mouth turn up in a smile.

“Really, you thought wearing that was a good idea?”

The red woman looked at her clothing, tracing her hands over them.

“I think it looks good.”

Not just good, though if you’re like him what are you trying to achieve?

“And how many souls do you manage to ensnare?”

Her face twitched violently. She let out a sigh.

“None, just like the last time. And don’t say ensnare, you make me sound like her.”

She continued walking without the swaying of her hips and took the seat opposite Anton, swinging her legs onto the table. Her dress didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“You can be somewhat unapproachable wearing something like that, they always seem too scared to talk to you.”

The red woman frowned before retracting her legs.

“And look at you, you’ve got no-one”

“That’s not true!” Stratos said with sarcastic shock, “I have….er….what was your name again?”

“Anton, and you didn’t ask.”

She smiled at this and started chuckling. Stratos shuffled to hide his embarrassment.

“Well, go on, tell him your name.”

Stratos appeared quite grumpy.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so rude, although the red woman appears to be enjoying it.

She was still looking straight at Stratos squirming with a happy expression.

“My name is Esperit - God of Flames. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Esperit reached over and shook Anton’s hand. He had to focus very hard to keep his eyes matched with hers rather than falling down.

“So, what have you told him?”

“Nothing much yet. Still waiting for the other one.”

Esperit glanced over at the empty chair before return her attention back to Anton.

“She’ll still be a while. Something about needing to look appropriate.”

Stratos and Anton glanced at each other before looking back to Esperit. She appeared to understand the look. Her dress began to glow, extending back over her legs and covering her chest and extending to her neck.

“That’s better.” Esperit put her legs back onto the table again, though she was still wearing her red high-heels.

“So, shall we start then?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Stratos cleared his throat.

“Well, since we don’t have much time I’ll keep to the basics. We stole, salvaged, your soul and everyone else’s in that crash. Your world’s gods don’t like it when one of their toys have been taken. Very dangerous but we needed to. Our world is being over-run by demons. They’re killing everyone and everything in their path, including our followers and disciples.”

"So why was I not taken, ensnared, by those other gods?"

"Well," began Stratos, "You were mangled in that crash. I mean really mangled. It's just that your soul and body are linked although something that damages one can only temporarily hurt the other. In your case, you were hit the worst. We didn't know that you were even there, we just grabbed everything."

“Right. Though you have to do this whole thing...I take it that you can’t interfere directly?”

Stratos nodded.

“Correct. But if we all band together we can forcibly drag foreign souls through this place. It is filled with mana, though souls from our world seem to slip through while yours drag bits with you. Think like a sponge soaking up water and grime.”

“I can use magic then, that’s pretty cool.”

“Yes, but you’ll still need some help.” Esperit said, “Though that’s the least of your concerns now.”

Esperit gestured behind her. In the darkness there were pairs of eyes and teeth, not joined but circling, coming closer. Anton flinched reflexively.

“Don’t worry, they can’t get at us yet. Give them about 20 minutes and they’ll tear you apart.”

“That’s the other reason why you aren’t popular Esperit.”

“Shut-up Stratos.”

“So those are the residents you were talking about?”

Stratos looked at the swirling teeth and eyes and merely chuckled.

“They’re harmless to gods.”

Again, I’m not a god.

“Anyway, we usually summon a group and they can choose their god.” Esperit turned her nose up at this point, “It’s just that most go for this Elven goddess and her friends, tend to leave us by the wayside. After Stratos heard you, well, we thought that we could become your patron gods.”

This seems good then.

Stratos and Esperit smiled, they must have seen Anton’s expression change.

“All right, I’ll take you as my patron gods. This means I get lightning and fire powers?”

“You’re going along with this quite easily.” Stratos looked concerned.

“Either this is some crazy dream and my death is a part of that dream or this is real and I should take everything I can.”
Esperit nodded while Stratos smirked. The residents were getting closer, their teeth were gnashing as though the invisible field around them was shrinking and weakening.

“Well, let's get this underway.” Esperit swung her feet off the table and both stood up, gesturing for Anton to do the same.
“I thought you two hated each other?”

“More…dislike. Although our circumstances…” Stratos and Esperit looked at each other and smiled.

Stratos took Anton’s left hand. It burned slightly. Before he could inspect what happened Esperit grabbed it as well, once again burning. When she removed her hand he saw two marks, one was orange and red like a flame and the other purple and white in the shape of a lightning bolt.

“Those are our “Glyphs” or marks. Just imagine and focus something like fire or lightning and it’ll come into being.”
Esperit snapped her fingers, a tiny flame erupted. In a second it grew to monstrous size then back to a flicker.
Anton looked down at his own hand, imagining a small flame. It burst out then disappeared the moment he wished it to.

This is pretty awesome. Although I do feel a little tired.

“Do be careful,” Stratos began, “Most people have their whole lives to get used to the feeling. You’ll only have a few minutes before you’ll be using it.”

“What?”
Esperit breathed to speak. A white shape moved behind her. It clanked slightly as it moved. Esperit picked up on this.

“About time Tethra. We’ve almost run out of time. Where have you been?”

She didn’t answer Esperit, continuing to clank her way towards Anton. The white shape turned out to be a large white nun outfit, her face and limbs where covered. She made her way towards Anton, not stopping and hugging him tightly.

“Wha…”

Tethra didn’t answer but did loosen her grasp.

He could feel her body but it wasn’t soft. It felt like there were metal chains underneath covering her whole body. She looked up at Anton. Her face covered by a steel mask, only allowing glimpses at her fair skin. Anton was about to speak but silenced by Tethra as she placed a steel chain covered hand over his mouth. Both her hands held his left, again burning slightly. When she left he saw a white pair of hands locked in prayer.

“Thank you, Tethra.”

“Tethra here is the god of Prayer. Recite a prayer and it’ll happen. It uses a lot of mana but it can do anything.” Esperit looked quite happy while Stratos’s eyes were trailing all over her body.

He couldn’t tell for sure but he was sure that she was smiling.

“What took you so long?” asked Esperit.

Tethra didn’t speak, or perhaps she couldn’t and reached into a fold of her white clothing. She brought out a small triangular white crystal.

“Oh, do you think he’s good enough?”

Tethra nodded, her chains clanking as she did so. Before Anton could say anything she grabbed Anton’s right hand and slamming the point into the centre.

Ow! What the fuck?!

Anton collapsed under the instantly blinding pain but after a second it was gone. There was no sign of blood or damaged skin. The tip of the crystal sticking out. It was long enough to go through his hand but his palm was completely undamaged. Tethra, despite having chained skin, tenderly held Anton’s hand as he regained his feet.

“Well, he’s alive. That’s a good start.” Stratos helped Tethra getting Anton to his feet.

“Why…”

Esperit smiled, “Hopefully it’ll help.”

A jaw chomped down near Esperit’s back, causing her to jump forward in surprise.

“Right, we’re out of time. Anton,” Esperit grabbed Anton’s cheeks between her hands. “We’re going to send you as far away from the demons and the New Heroes as possible, give you something at least. When you wake up you’ll need to be moving pretty quickly. Okay? Good.”

Before Anton could ask anything more, Esperit ‘pushed’ Anton down through the darkness, with the jaws chomping where he had just been. The darkness crushed Anton, enveloping his body and lungs, bring flashes to when he died.

If I die again after all that….

Once again, consciousness failed him.

…
…
…

Anton consciousness again returned after his second horrific experience. Though this time he could feel something under his hands. It was scratchy and was comprised of many parts. He opened his eyes and looked down. Straw, a massive pile of it. The straw slid out from under him as he struggled free, eventually landing undignified on the dry dirt.
His still wore his old suit. It was strange how they could still be intact, though in a world with gods and magic he no longer knew what could be considered impossible. Quickly rising to his feet he surveyed his surroundings, brushing off the dust. It was a barn of some sort. A single lamp attached to the central beam provided the only source of light. The light flickered against the wood.

This looks handmade…

Anton rubbed his hand along the planks making the wall. It was uneven yet overall straight. Someone had built this by hand with an axe of some kind.

The barn was to be quite long with a single story. The builders may not have had the skill. Something else disturbing was the barn only had the single lump of hay that he had landed on. Otherwise, it was completely barren. Wherever this was, it looked quite poor.

“Gah!”

A cry from outside startled Anton. It was loud and hoarse, someone was in trouble. He turned towards the door and was about to leave when he remembered the god's words. Something terrible may be befalling this place.

It was then that he noticed an odd feeling throughout his body. A thick and heavy feeling. He took a step yet it didn’t feel harder to walk. Perhaps this was the new weight of this world. However, it did stir up a new thought, magic. As a child, he had always thought about using magic but now was his chance. Remembering the words of the gods he focused his thoughts on making a flame at the tip of his finger. The heavy sensation drifted towards his hand. A small flame burst into being, the heavy feeling fueling the flame. He experimented with the size, the Heaviness, as he now called it, flowing greatest when the flame was largest.

He extinguished the flame with another thought, the Heaviness receding and smothering his body again, although it felt less.

I guess that’s my potential then. Still, it’s pretty exciting.

“Run!”

This time there was no hesitation. He had magic and he was sure that he could help those people outside. The barn door was slightly ajar thankfully. Anton started to slip out, trying desperately not to make a sound.

It was night outside. From the barn door, Anton could see around 6 houses, all quite close to one another. These too appeared to be made of wood, perhaps even by the same person. Their walls were made from wooden planks with large upright logs driven into the ground to hold them in place. Their roofs were made from some sort of grass or hay bound together. There were even windows with blinds made of wood that were currently drawn shut.

Some sort of medieval peasant village. I never knew how dark these places must have been.

Other than the occasional light coming from the house and corners, it was completely dark. The stars were visible yet there was no moon of any kind.

“Look out!”

A person collided with Anton, knocking him down. It was a young man and woman. Their faces where dirty and their breathing ragged. They wore thick clothes, the stereotypical medieval peasant garb.

The young man saw Anton’s clothes and visibly paled. Obviously he had never seen someone like Anton. He quickly got to his feet, helping up the woman who was trying to catch her breath. They both stood there for what felt like an age.

His mouth opened to speak but he coughed blood all over Anton. His body became stiff, hands trying to reach his back. The woman didn’t seem aware and just watched him fall. He fell, face first into the dirt in front of Anton, a small axe protruding just below his shoulder blades. The woman gasped then screamed.

The shadows cackled and laughed. Anton’s thoughts went immediately back to the gods’ dimension, and its ravenous teeth. This felt different.

A small creature emerged into the dim flickering light. It was a meter tall and looked like a comically deformed human; its eyes bulged as if its bald skull was too small, a contorted face with jagged teeth and an elongated nose, scrawny and gnarled fingers with had a pot belly. It looked disgusting. Its yellow skin caught the light very well, casting shadows on the diminutive creature, making it more terrifying than it originally appeared. Anton was about to ask the woman what they were when two more equally deformed creatures emerged.

The woman scream again and tried to run past Anton. One of the yellow creatures pulled an axed from its belt and threw it. The axe flew through the air, connecting with the running woman’s neck. Blood flew from the wound as she spun towards the ground. She hit the ground next to Anton with an almighty thud, the axe dislodging itself in the process. She coughed and spluttered for a moment then stopped. The woman was dead.

The yellow creatures chuckled and pointed at her. They moved towards her, the light giving more detail to these creatures. They wore nothing except for a rag around their waist and this appeared to be quite tight around the front. They moved a few steps before stopping, a look of stupefaction on their deformed faces. It was almost if they couldn’t comprehend that another person could be there. The look only lasted a second, quickly replaced by one of anger. Their tiny arms searched around their belts, probably for an axe. They must have used them all before now.

It gave Anton a chance to process what he was seeing. The warm blood from the woman touched his hands. It made something within Anton snap. He knew he had magic and it should be able to deal with these yellow goblin creatures. Before he could rise to his feet the first yellow goblin shrieked and sprinted at him. It bounded with a mad look in its eyes.

Oh shit. Quickly, imagine a fire bolt…wait there’s wood everywhere. Imagine a lightning bolt instead.

He did just that, the Heaviness surging to his hands. The yellow goblin was more than halfway, still charging like a bull. The feeling built and built until his hand tingled. It collected to a single point then it burst forth. A single both of lightning struck the charging yellow goblin in the chest. The bolt disappeared in an instant. The chest of the yellow goblin was burnt and boiled, the skin flayed at the edges exposing the muscle underneath.

The yellow goblin tripped and fell, gliding roughly on the dirt before coming to a halt. Its body twitched slightly and appeared to smoke. Anton looked at his hand, amazed at what just happened. The other goblins appeared to have the same look.

Anton rose to his feet, the Heaviness feeling somewhat less than before yet he could feel somehow that it was growing back. The yellow goblins quickly glanced at each other before charging like their downed comrade.

These creatures are not smart.

Anton felt the surge to both of his hands, a bolt of lightning from each hand strike their respective goblin. Both twitched and fell just like before. The Heaviness was definitely less now. In its place was a confidence he had not felt for a long time. Perhaps he could not beat an entire army but he could take these creatures on one at a time at least. With the goblins dead he could hear clanking and yelling in the distance. He took one final look at the dead people before him, their lifeless bodies bring back painful flashes. He left them as they fell, muttering a few words of comfort to the dead then moving as quietly as he could towards the noise.

---[]--- ---[]--- ---[]---

Half a minute later of moving through this medieval town Anton found himself at a blockage. A cart had been placed across the pathway. There was no planning to these structures so they were very close to each other here compared to elsewhere. There were bodies too. Human and those yellow goblins, all had cuts and blood strewn across them and the ground. The sound of fighting was close now, the grunts yells and ringing of metal was the loudest yet.

The cart blocked his passage but not his sight. He moved around, finally finding a spot to see through between some boxes. There was a fight on the other side; humans and yellow goblins fighting one another to the death, blood and flesh spraying everywhere. The humans appeared to have the raw strength over these creatures but there were hundreds more goblins then humans. They would overwhelm them and soon judging by the look of exhaustion on the human's faces.

His eyes darted around, hoping to find a better vantage point. To the side lay a stack of wooden crates, there were scratch marks on it. This was possibly how the yellow goblins got to the humans.

Anton scrambled his way on top of the house overlooking the battle. He kept low less anyone see what he was doing. From his vantage point he could see the battle before him.

The battle was occurring in a large plaza area. The wooden houses formed a circle surrounding this plaza area. The gaps between the houses had been filled with carts as well, though some had been broken and were on fire.

The battle wasn’t good for the humans. There many bodies on the ground but those that were standing were bloody, their movements were slow and had no energy to them. The goblins were still spritely and picking off wounded and isolated humans.

I can help these people. I’m not going to let these people die especially when I can do something about it. Well, here goes nothing then.

He gathered all the Heaviness he could, the feeling flowed from every part of his body to his fingers. It felt like all the energy from his body was gathering in his hands. His feet felt numb but he paid it no mind.

With an almighty bang the lighting exploded out towards the center of the goblin mass. It wasn’t accurate but each bolt killed everything it touched. In an instant almost all the goblins were dead, their bodies twitching while some had exploded or smouldering limbs where they had been blown off. The goblin survivors looked towards Anton but the humans didn’t.

“Charge!!”

The humans that could still move grabbed their weapons; spears, forks and even sticks, and charged. The goblins were stunned. Those few alive panicked, some bumping into each other as they tried to scramble out of the area towards the broken carts.

Anton felt his mind feeling weak. The Heaviness was gone and so was his sense of balance. His consciousness began to fade once again.

This is becoming irritating…

“Quickly, they were up there.”

Anton saw one of the humans point to where he was still hiding before he felt his body become numb and began to slide down the roof.

Chapter 002 - Vol 1

Chapter 002:

Anton awoke for the third time. Every part of his body hurt; head, neck, shoulders, arms, back and legs. It felt like he had gone through another beating, though it was good that there was an actual feeling rather than numbness. Images of what he had done came back into his mind; killing hundreds of those yellow goblins then passing out as the Heaviness disappeared. The last thing he remembered was sliding down the roof plummeting to the ground. He was lucky to have survived without breaking his neck.

Luckily he wasn’t on the ground outside, he was on a bed of some sort. The timber creaked and groaned as he moved ever so slightly. The mattress crunched as he moved, it sounded just like the straw that he landed on. There was some sort of fur to protect the skin from the straw, it was a light brown and soft to the touch. However it did have large patches missing, it must be quite well used. Some thick material was used as the blanket. It was coarse but there was another layer of worn fur underneath. It was actually quite nice.

The rest of the room was similarly old but well cared for. Only a rudimentary table and two chairs furnished the rest of the room. The floors were wooden but looked like that had seen a lot of traffic with flakes of dirt compacted in. The walls looked like the handmade ones in the village. He must be inside one of those houses. The wooden windows were also open, letting in some of the morning light.

There was a flicker of a shadow, movement.

Ah shit, I could still be in trouble here.

After throwing off the covers he swung his legs out and onto the floor. Pain surged through his legs as he tried to apply weight. As he slumped back he noticed his chest felt something other than pain and soreness. He still wore the pants and his socks but his shirt and shoes had been removed. His chest was now covered in bloodied bandages, cuts and bruises. Hopefully, the blood on the bandages was his. The idea of getting some blood-borne disease after all this didn’t thrill him. Though the fact that others could have seen his back thrilled him even less.

He tried to stand up again but the pain cut his legs out.

I’m never getting up like this.

His eyes drifted to his glyphed hand. The gods’ powers seemed simple enough. The fire magic could have burnt this entire place down but the lightning did its job well. That left the prayer glyph. Those eccentric gods had never explained what Tethra’s’ abilities were. However, prayer was associated with healing, hopefully. It was worth a shot.

Anton focused the feeling to his hands but imagining the prayer was difficult. The moment his image of a prayer wavered the Heaviness broke and flew back through his body.

Damn, well it was worth a try at least.

“Oh, here goes: If only Tethra would heal me.”

The Heaviness surged to his wounds without his control. It quickly dissipated along with most of his pain, though his dizziness returned. A minute passed before he could tell what was up or down again. The Heaviness began to return as well, perhaps slightly faster but nowhere as thick as when he first arrived here.

Anton tried again to stand. He felt stronger than he had in a while. His mutterings must have been the prayer, he would need to do better in the future, and it probably wouldn’t be that simple again his body told him.

He only made a step before he could hear steps from outside. The Heaviness was thick enough for some lightning bolts at least though not enough for the whole village. He dived underneath the fur blanket but left his hands exposed.

The steps continued to get closer. It sounded like wood on wood. The door slowly creaked open. Anton drew some of the Heaviness to his fingers and waited.

A small old woman emerged. For a moment Anton thought it was one of the elderly ladies sitting at the front of the bus but it wasn’t. She had short dark brown hair in a bob-style, her face weathered from hard and daily work in the sun. Her clothes looked very similar to what the dead woman wore, some brown and grey thick fabric. Still, she looked harmless enough but Anton wasn’t about to let his guard down.

She walked in slowly with a slight limp, each step appeared to require great effort. She put a pile of clothes on the table. They looked similar to the ones she wore but had less dirt and patches.

Very kind of them, at least they’re probably not going to try and kill me now.
The woman jumped slightly when she noticed Anton looking directly at her.

“Thank the gods that you survived. How do you feel?”

Her voice was old and slightly croaky yet motherly at the same time.

“I’m fine.”

Here goes nothing.

“Where are we?”

The old lady smiled, “You don’t know? Hmm. We’re in the Kar Kingdom. Does that help you at all?”

Anton just shook his head. At least this wasn’t Earth.

“My husband will be better to talk too, he knows many things that I can barely understand.”

She chuckled lightly and hobbled to the door.

“HE’S AWAKE!!”

The volume of the old lady was shocking. She sent Anton a playful smile. Very quickly he heard many footsteps. Three men burst in. One, the old man at the front, looked like the male version of the old lady though his hair was grey. The other two were gigantic young men; their muscles were on display, short cropped hair and many scars, all accentuated by the thin singlets they wore.

Both guards stood either side of the door, arms crossed, trying to make their chests look bigger.

You really don’t need to do that, I’m not going to run away.

What Anton did notice was the glints off their belts. Knives. They did take some precaution at least after seeing what he did the other night.

The old man and woman dragged the chairs to the right of Anton.

“Um,” began the old man, “I’m not really sure how to do this right, but, who are you and why are you here?”

Shit, what should I tell them? Probably not the thing about gods and me being from another world just yet. I need to tell them something though, something harmless…

“My name is Anton, I think?”

The old man looked over at the old woman who nodded.

“I think he may have lost his memory, dear.”

The old man nodded then stroked his chin. His hands were missing a few fingers. They did not look fully healed yet.

“Well Anton, my name is Bertram. I don’t have a second name, not a royal or noble, no. Not that there are any left in these parts anymore. This is my wife, Sybil.”

Sybil nodded.

“So, why are you here?”

Bertram’s face darkened slightly and the two guards shifted so they could reach for their knives quickly.

“It’s odd to see a mage out here. Even odder for one to turn up when everything’s going really bad. We don’t have gold or jewels to pay you and very little in the way of goods…”

Ah crap, play this gently.

“I…don’t know why I’m here or even who I am. I woke up in one of those barns, heard all that noise, two people were killed in front of me without me understanding anything that was going on. I don’t know how but I knew how to use lightning magic, killing those yellow goblin things, finding the big fight in the plaza area then doing what I could. I take it that you guys won?”

Bertram took a moment to process the information, his mouth opening and closing. He was probably waiting for some ridiculous demand for saving their lives. It didn’t say much for magic users in this world.

“Well, yes we did. After that Thunderous Roar that you used the yellow goblins retreated.”

“Never seen 'em run so quick.” Said the guard on the right, he slurred and had something of a cockney accent. The left guard glared at the right but he didn’t seem to care.

“They did retreat and we are thankful for that.” Bertram glanced at the right guard then bowed still seated, “Though it may have just delayed our deaths.”

Anton didn’t say anything but cocked his head.

“Can you walk? It’ll be easier to talk outside.”

“I think I can.”

Anton shuffled out of the bed and stood up. It took a moment before he was properly balanced.

“It’s amazing that you can walk,” Sybil said, “When we found you crumbled after having to hit some crates on the way down.”

No wonder everything hurt.

His chest was still exposed, minus the bandages. He had no intention of showing off his back to anyone. Luckily no one had mentioned it. Anton grabbed the first shirt from the stack and put it on. It was a light brown shirt that itched every time he moved. The others wore worse looking clothing, surely he would get used to it.

The guards looked hesitant to let Anton leave but Bertram waved them away. They opened the door and Anton found himself in a short corridor. It felt good to walk again, although he was still in his socks. Anton collected his shoes which were left just outside the door.

Must be a custom of some sort.

This appeared to one of four rooms in this quite large building. Bertram guided him outside.

The light was bright but not blindingly so. It was a warm yet lightly overcast day. A gust of wind blew, reeking of burnt flesh. The fried goblins were still splayed over the plaza. There were only a few people out, shuffling and prodding the corpses, despite it being early in the morning. Anton had always thought that medieval societies would need all the light they could use but apparently not here.

Anton had been put into one of the larger buildings that formed the perimeter of the plaza. In fact, it was the same one that Anton had clambered on and slid down the other night. The other buildings, around 25 or so, looked similar but were noticeably smaller. Bertram must be an important person.

“Over here, Anton. I don’t like to be cooped up inside all the time, especially when I’m sick.”

Bertram pointed to a table in the plaza that had been overturned. The right and left guard took this instruction, righted it and gathered some chairs. Quite a lot of the outside furniture had been broken or was still being used as part of the barricades.

“Thank you, Jeff and Jeff. We’ll be fine now. Can you get the others awake and out here helping with the clean-up? They can’t spend all their time huddling away inside.”

Both Jeff’s grunted in obedience then departed.

Must be some sort of Elder of Chief. Better try and stay on his good side then.

Sybil didn’t make any move to sit down.

“I need to go and get things ready for the mid-day meal. Hopefully, the Jeff’s will have woken everyone by then.”

Bertram nodded, gave her a little kiss and she was hobbling off. He watched her leave giving Anton ample time to observe his handiwork. There were clusters of goblins everywhere, giant scorch marks burnt into the ground. If one of those had hit a human he probably wouldn’t be sitting here.

“Well,” Bertram began as he turned back to face Anton, “What do you want to know? I don’t know everything though.”

This is a good place to start gathering Intel. Ugh, I hate that I keep using the word.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in the remains of the once powerful Kar Kingdom.” Bertram chuckled slightly, “Everyone’s pretty much dead who held up their banner though. And this charming village is Atros. Probably the last place with sensible humans in the Kingdom now, not that that’s saying much. There were once 5,000 of us, living quite happily away from royal control and bickering. Now it’s around 1,000 and dropping fast. If you hadn’t intervened last night it would have been zero today.”

“There hardly looked to be 1,000 people out there fighting.”

“We hid most people throughout the buildings in the courtyard and the small cave system that runs underneath the village. There’s an entrance in one of the grain barns. We banded together here in the plaza so they wouldn’t start pillaging quite so soon.”

“How long have you been living like this?”

Bertram lent back into his chair.

“Around a year? Time flies when every night you could be killed by those ferocious monsters. Oh, and we do call them Yellow Goblins. They don’t speak anything other than chirps and squeaks so no one’s been able to figure out what they want. They’ve taken up ‘residence’ in the mountain to the north.”

He pointed north and Anton could see the tip of a small mountain. The mountain almost touched the clouds with its snow-covered tip.

“They come from there every few weeks or so; attack, kill and kidnap anything and everything. Recently it’s gotten much worse. Last night was meant to finish us off. They won’t be back for some time, hopefully, a month or so, after they lost so many. They aren’t the bravest things. So again, thank you.”

Bertram bowed again.

“Do you have a map of the area?”

Bertram’s eyebrows furrowed.

“The nearest city that we know that would still be safe, Maxill, is 12 days walk through a monster-infested forest to the west.”

They must think that I’m going to try and leave after hearing their village is doomed.

“Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t know anything about myself other than my name and know nothing about the world. I can’t just up and go in this state. Besides, I don’t think that I was put here just so I would leave again. Perhaps I’m here to help or something, I don’t know, but while I try and figure everything out I should probably help the people that helped me.”

Bertram looked straight into Anton’s eyes.

Please believe me. I really don’t want to be by myself if there are hundreds of those things running around.

Anton held the gaze.

“Alright. Mages are known to be frivolous and can be quite abusive to those that don’t have magic.”
“Did you know any?”

“A couple, most were jerks. There was one that was kind, I forget her name, but it was one out of fifty that were good.”

“I hope to change that then.”

Bertram chuckled leading Anton to smile slightly.

“Well, what can I do to help?”

Bertram still looked a startled by Anton’s question. A friendly and helpful mage must be quite a rare occurrence.

“There’s quite a lot of things that need doing. First, we need to get rid of the evidence of your arrival to Atros. They’ll soon stink and rot. It’s odd that they do that faster than most creatures. See, some are already rotting.”

Bertram pointed towards a cluster of dead Yellow Goblins. There were blue and black crow-like creatures tearing at the body. One jumped onto the goblins face, tearing into its eyes. The crow pulled out the retina of the goblin and gulped it down.

“I see what you mean. What are those?”

“Blue Crows. They love rotting flesh.”

There were several dozen Blue Crows picking at the dead and more kept arriving.

“There’s also construction of the wooden palisade, though that’s fallen behind, and bringing in the harvest. Thankfully the Yellow Goblins would prefer to kill us then pillage our crops. Then there’s the matter of you. The mages that I had been able to talk with have experienced your fainting condition. You used up too much mana and your body feels extraordinarily light then you pass out.”

Well, that confirms it.

“So you’ll need better control and application of your magic.”

Bertram looked towards a particularly large scorch mark.

“I think I’ll help move the bodies first. I'll need some time to figure everything else out.”

“Excellent. Looks like the others are starting to arrive. You’ve been quite the conversation starter. Nothing like some gossip to distract you when you’re staring into the abyss.”

Anton didn’t know what to say and simply nodded. Bertram rose to his feet. He waved over to the group of people behind Anton. Right Jeff was leading the group and hurried over.

“Jeff, I want Anton to help you and the others clear these bodies out.”

“Ours to?”

Bertram sighed, “Yes, there’s nothing we can do for them now. Also get the cart barricades down first, use them to move the bodies to the dumping site.”

Dumping site? They must have won some battles with the Yellow Goblins then.

“On it boss.” Right Jeff smiled and saluted. Perhaps someone here had military training.

“Well, I’m going to find Sibyl and arrange for a feast to celebrate our victory here today. We need some reason to let loose a little… Also to find out what we’ve got left.”

With that, Bertram hobbled off.

It was the first time Anton had been able to inspect Right Jeff intently. He was very tall, over 2 meters, his face was round but he looked like a reliable but not too bright sort of person.

“Well, shall we get started then?”

Right Jeff smiled and said, “You bet. We need to show how’s it done.”

Oh please let this man not get on my nerves too much…

---[]--- ---[]--- ---[]---

It was a simple matter of removing the debris that formed the barricades. Most were simple chunks of wood with crates and furniture thrown in for good measure. By the time that one cart was free, they had gathered quite a crowd. Right Jeff told them to help as well, most seemed to help though some just watched on. Anton couldn’t figure out why but could only hope that it wasn’t a bad thing.

Picking up the bodies was quite an unsavoury task. Bits and limbs fell off after being pulled or touched. These nearly identical monsters were vile to touch but it was far worse with a human body. These people knew each other pretty well, it was hard for them to see their friends or loved ones being thrown into a cart like this.

Perhaps what disturbed the people more was Anton’s fascination with the dead yellow goblins. He stopped after finding a goblin that was mostly intact and had no burn marks. It may have died from a heart attack, if they had one. There were things he would need to know and this seemed like as good as time as any. These people must have thought it strange when he began to pry and prod at the dead.

“What’re you doing?” as Right Jeff.

“Do you have a knife, Jeff?”

“What for?”

Jeff leaned in towards Anton. He had several dead goblins under his arm ready for the cart and was surprised when Anton stopped him from taking his.

“How much do you actually know about these creatures?”

Right Jeff shrugged. “When we hit the enough they die. What’s more to know?”

“I don’t know, but there may be something, something to learn from them, perhaps a weakness of some kind. Who knows what a might be found.”

Right Jeff just stared as if this was beyond him. Anton ignored him and began removing the skin off the dead yellow goblin. The skin came off easily enough revealing the red muscles underneath. They looked strong and well-toned for their size. There was no fat present on any part of its body, the pot belly was filled with a foul-smelling liquid that was not expected. It had a slightly gritty texture yet smelled like grass and leaves. Were they herbivores? And if so why bother attacking if they can just eat grass and leaves. Anton’s amateur dissection was only causing him headaches and painful stares from the perplexed villagers.

These goblins must have a weakness other than just stabbing and slashing them to bits. They appeared to have some difficulty in moving their arms. When they threw those axes they had to use their whole bodies to spin, though that could just the best way for them. Although, this may not be the best place to have done this.

Other villagers were looking at him quite disturbed. Perhaps they thought he was some sort of necromancer or death cultist, not beneficial for getting on their good side.

Anton sighed. The muscles looked identical to everything else he had seen before and the theory about weak joints was erroneous too. He took his half carved goblin and threw it onto the cart. Right Jeff had continued stacking goblins, now the cart was now full.

The carts looked like they should have a creature of some sort pulling them but Right Jeff said the Ix were needed elsewhere to clear bigger debris. Anton had no idea what an Ix was but wasn’t about to argue, though he knew he should try to get to know people better.

On the first trip out of Atros, Anton tried to strike up a conversation with Right Jeff who was helping him pull the cart thought it was Jeff that initiated it.

“So… you’s one of them learn-ed types?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Ha, you remind me of my father. He’s always trying to tell me to be cleverer. Never worked though.”

“Who’s your father?”

“Bertram. Ha Ha, you’ve been talking all day to ‘im and you ‘ad no idea. Can’t you see the resemblance?”

Anton mentally compared the two.

No.

“Not particularly.”

“Ha, at least you’re honest.”

“And the other Jeff that was with you?”

“Nah, he’s a good friend of the family though. He’s a good person, just a little wound up because of what’s happening.”

Anton remained silent as they continued to travel through the village. It was surprisingly large, with over a hundred buildings. Several families must live in each building, though the buildings got progressively more damaged and burned as they neared the edge.

Running along the outside was the attempt at building the wooden palisade. There were many missing sections and those that stood were old and burned, the yellow goblins didn’t even hesitate to go around.

It was here, pulling a cart bouncing with corpses, that Anton saw the outside world. There were miles upon miles of open grassland in every direction. The wind blew lightly, the light rustling of the grass soothing to his ears. There were trees in the distance ranging along the northern mountain, forming a wall running parallel from the mountain towards the south, beyond their sight and yet only a few hours walk away. Anton thought this would be the dumping site but it was to the south.

A few minutes later they arrived. It was just a natural depression in the grass, already filled with old rotting corpses of goblins and humans.

It must take a serious iron will to live like this. The smell alone is vile.

Anton and Jeff threw the bodies into the pit. They thumped, squished and cracked as they fell in.

“How many bodies are here?” Anton asked as he threw the last body.

“Dunno, couple hundred at least today. There’s another one jus’ over there.”

Jeff pointed to another depression a few meters away, the whites of the bones smothered with lichen and grass. This place covered its death well.

The bodies were all in the pit when the other villagers arrived, around twenty carts in total. The last cart yelled at Jeff that they were finished.

“Ah good, Ya hungry?”

Jeff reached into his pants and pulled out a fruit. It looked just like a pear yet it was deep red like a ripe strawberry. He didn’t offer any explanation and bit into it, pink juices bursting over his face. He leant forward to stop the juices from staining his clothes.

“Want one?”

He somehow had another red pear and tossed it at Anton.

“What it is?”

“It’s called a Karak fruit. It’s ‘apparently the fruit of the Kingdom, reserved for royalty. Now it’s up for anyone. Tastes pretty sweet too.”

Anton rubbed his hand over the Karak fruit. While it was the shape of a pear it felt like a ripe orange. It was quite jarring mentally to bite into something that felt like an orange. Nevertheless, he bit into it. Jeff was right, it burst with sweetness with every bite and chew.

The Heaviness, which he now knew was his Mana, seemed to return ever so slightly.

No wonder the royalty kept this for themselves. I’ll need to find out where they grow this. Maybe I can get this into some sort of concentrated form like a pill or something. Although, that does bring up another question. Where are these people growing their food?

On the way to the pit, there had been only a few fruit trees and a few hundred meters of what appeared to be wheat radiating from the village. Surely that was not enough to feed the 1,000 people now let alone the previous 5,000. It was yet another thing he would have to figure out.

Jeff had finished his first fruit, throwing the remains into the body pit, then pulling out another fruit. The other villagers had almost finished unloading the corpses, Anton had been distracted by the fruit.

“I think we’ve got this Anton. Bit of time before midday.” Jeff looked over Anton, “You don’t look strong enough to help clear the wooden bits.”

“Thanks. I really need to get better grips on controlling my mana. Speaking of which, where did you get that fruit?”

“Oh, it’s a gnarly tree just behind the Village Hall. Apparently, dad nicked it when the kingdom collapsed…or he stole a fruit. I don’t remember.” Jeff shrugged and took another bite of the fruit.

“Thanks, I’ll get some later.”

Anton nodded goodbye before finding an open area before reaching the village.

---[]--- ---[]--- ---[]---

Mana control was quite difficult to understand; the flow of mana was like a roaring stream that would surge at the slightest provocation. It took Anton hours just to try and manage the flow properly down to a trickle at will. By the end, he had a good idea on how to control it. He had no idea if this was quick or not to get control but it just felt natural now. It was time to test it out.

A small crowd had gathered to watch Anton, whispering and muttering to themselves while the occasional person pointed at him. Not all of the words could be made out but some appeared outright hostile, mentioning his dissection of the yellow goblins. However, there were words of encouragement amongst them as well, so all was not lost.

He had chosen a dirt patch and was sitting like as if he was meditating. Still, more support for gossip that Anton was some deranged Mage. The Karak fruit was ignored for the meantime, he would need to understand his own limits first before he tried to dose himself.

Okay, let’s try this out. Just a small flame, the tiniest flame will do.

The mana began to surge through his body to his hands. With willpower, it stopped with only a tiny trickle reaching his outstretched hand. It pooled there, sloshing through his blood. Anton concentrated hard for a tiny flame to emerge from the palm of his hand. A tiny roar and the flame was born. Only a few centimetres, it danced over his hand but never leaving it. More mana forced it to the centre. There was no heat he could feel yet it burned some grass that he gathered with his spare hand, nor did his clothes burn either when his hand was brought close to him as he lent over.

Everything about this was peculiar. Did his clothes not burn from his own flame because his mana leaked into it? There wasn’t much else it could be. Then there was the crystal in his hand, rammed into it by Tethra. They hadn’t bothered to tell him anything about it yet it seemed important. It was cool to the touch yet retained no heat. Everything relating to magic was peculiar.

Anton spent nearly an hour slowly expanding and contracting the flame. The method was simple enough, the amount of mana fed determined the size and stability.

He barely noticed Jeff coming up from behind.

“Hey, Anton!”

The booming voice surprised Anton, breaking his concentration. The flame grew to a meter in height in an instant before he could bring it back.

Anton glared at Jeff who was still smiling.

“Dad says it time for food. Wanted me to come get ya’. We’ve got a big meeting all planned and everything. Lots of food, you’ll love it.”

“Sure.”
Anton extinguished the flame and walked behind Jeff. The crowd parted to let them through. Obviously, they would still need convincing that could be helpful but all things in good time.

Chapter 003 - Vol 1

Chapter 003:

“What the hell is that?”

Anton had almost made it back to the main plaza when a large creature emerged from behind one of the buildings. It was twice the size but the same shape as a cow, yet it was covered in something like crocodile skin, truly a bizarre creature. Upon noticing Anton staring at it, the creature snarled and spat on the ground. A villager on the other side gave the creature a slap on its hide before grabbing a harness attached to its neck.

The harness straddled it, attached to one of the carts filled with scrap wood.

“That’s an Ix. Good labourer. Can get quite uppity though.”

The Ix passed by with more snarls, receiving the occasional slap on its thick hide to keep it moving. The cart clunked and rattled as it moved past.

“Can it do anything other than be a beast of burden?”

“Nah. They eat grass around the village and are good meat but you really don’t want to eat all your creatures an’ do all the work yourselves.”

“Hmm.”

“They won’t bite,” Right Jeff gave Anton a nudged with his shoulder, “'Less of course you really try to hurt them. Then they might bite your face off.”

Fantastic. I don’t think I’ll have much to do with them though.

“We keep them in one of bigger barns. They don’t like the cold.”

Cold blooded perhaps.

Anton saw several more Ix’s as they approached the main plaza all carting away more pieces of the barricades. He stopped by one of the creatures, it was cool to the touch. But what fascinated the harness, more advanced than just some loops of leather. There were metal clasps and clips, very intricate for a dying village such as this.

Anton was about to ask Right Jeff but decided against it, currently patting the creature with a stupid grin on his face. He would need to ask someone more intelligent.

When Anton arrived the main plaza had been cleared, all bodies were gone and the blood covered underneath new dirt, now an assortment of tables and chairs were in their place. His scorch marks were still embedded in the ground, the burnt dirt crunching lightly with every step.

Right Jeff led Anton to the centre of the plaza where his father, Chief Bertram, as Anton had decided to now call him, had set up at the largest table. It was a long rectangular wooden table with around 20 chairs, like the rickety ones in his room. The others had around 8 to 10 chairs, some already filled with expectant looking villagers.

Bertram directed Anton to sit at the head of the large table.

“It really doesn’t matter where I sit you know?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. In just a few hours you’ve been able to do more work than most mages do in their whole lives.”

“Dad’s right’, besides I think we can finally do some good, so we need to show people what you look like.”

Right Jeff was very insistent. He kept hitting the chair where Anton was meant to be sitting.

Anton eventually relented and sat. To his left sat Right Jeff and to his left sat Chief Bertram then Sybil. The rest of the table was filled with men, woman and children looking at him intently. He had never experienced such adulation from people but the desperate nature was very unsettling. Very quickly their expressions changed. There were mutterings and sharp gestures. Anton had seen this before: anger, distrust, and outright hostility, though there was something else hidden amongst them. Jealousy perhaps? It was hard to tell from this distance. At the centre of one of the distant tables, he saw Left Jeff, still having no better name, staring at him. He averted his eyes when Anton looked at him but returned the moment he looked away.

He looks like he could be trouble later. Better keep an eye on him, though I can’t ask these people yet. I don’t want to start setting up factions this early.

Everyone appeared to be in the like or hate groups. Thankfully, most people appeared to be in the like group.

Anton waited for a few minutes as more and more villagers arrived, finally filling every table and spilling out to sitting on crates and the dirt for some people.

“Bertram dear, nearly everyone that we could get out of their homes is here. Shall we start?”

Bertram began stroking his chin again. This would be an interesting lunch.

“Yes. Hopefully, everyone will think more clearly with a full belly.”

Sybil nodded to several other women. They entered the Main Hall and emerged immediately with several small bowls around the size of both palms put together, each one served to a single person.

The bowl clunked as it touched the wood. Anton touched it, pottery. These people did have some decent equipment but no cutlery though. He also noticed that all the other bowls had chips and chunks missing but his did not.

There was also the matter of the scale of the food. It looked simple and healthy; a piece of dried and salted meat, a piece of brown bead and a collection of what appeared to be carrots and peas. The others had this as well though once again it was noticeably less and of worse quality.

Anton had a small issue with this.

“You know that you can just give me a regular portion.”

“As a mage, I remember being told that it’s important to keep well fed and rested, although…”

“A regular meal will do fine. I can feel my mana recovering pretty easily. If I could have one of those Karak fruits instead of the larger portion that would be better.”

Bertram looked at his son with a surprised look.

“I’m surprised you let anyone else eat them. You keep a pretty close eye on that tree. Besides, how did you know that a mage would need it?”

Right Jeff shrugged dismissively.

“That lady mage you knew. When I was a kid, she talked about it. Gave me the seed to grow, something about needing it later. I dunno, I remember her bein’ very pretty.”

Bertram nodded.

“Well, my son aside, the fruit…Sybil?” Sybil perked up, “Could you please get someone to get a Karak fruit from behind the Main Hall please?”

Sybil turned to a young woman beside her, who nodded and quickly departed.

Still need to find that tree. Might want to get an orchard going.

“So,” Began Anton as he started to nibble on the dried meat. It tasted something between pork and beef, “What was the big thing that you were going to mention?”

“Personally, I didn’t think that I would be alive today. So, I’m going to do everything to stay alive. And for that reason, I’m deferring control of the village to you.”

Anton coughed, almost choking on a large chunk of meat.

“I’m not really that good at leading. I feel that I did the best when allowing to help the group rather than lead. I must decline.”

Bertram smiled but it was one that looked genuinely happy.

Perhaps he thought he should offer before it was demanded.

“That being said if I think something is wrong I will say so. I do have some ideas on how to improve the chances of this village and maybe get everyone through the next few days at the least.”

All three leaned in, as well as most of the other people on the table who had been listening in.

“We’ve got around 1,000 people and a very large and exposed area to defend. There’s no way that you can last much longer whilst stretched so thin. On the way out this morning, I noticed that almost half the houses were damaged and burned.”

“Yes. No-one lives in those anymore.”

“Well, we need to get the outside ones pulled down and use the material to rebuild a wooden wall. I saw the attempt at building the wall but you’ve got far too much area to cover. Using the recovered materials you can then build a more complete wall and in less time.

“How will that help?” asked Right Jeff.

“Couple of ways; firstly the Yellow Goblins won’t be able to sneak up through the houses and secondly you’ll actually have a wall to defend. You’ll also have spare wood…which could be useful somewhere.”

Anton thought it started well but fell down near the end but judging by the looks of the villagers they seemed to like this idea.

Plus it’ll keep them busy and not thinking about their death. I hope it’s enough of a start.

The young woman returned with a small basket filled with Karak fruit. She held the basket out to Anton, shaking ever so slightly. Anton had the chance to properly inspect her, she was a plain but honest looking woman. She had cuts and scars over her exposed face and hands, the rest of her body was covered by thick clothing.

“Thank you”

“It, It is an honour, my lord.”

The woman was blushing quite allot though it drained when Anton scowled slightly after being called a lord.

“I’m so sorry…”

Anton waved away her concern.

“It’s fine. I just don’t feel comfortable being called that.”

The woman smiled slightly before returning to her seat. Anton turned his attention to Bertram.

“I know I asked for it before, but do you have that map?”

Bertram shuffled through his clothes and pulled out a large crumpled roll of paper. He moved the food from the table and laid it in front of Anton. It was a rough map of the area with points of interest.

Atros was central to the map with three roads leaving in the East, South and West. To the west, there was the forest and to the north was the mountain. Aspire though that name appeared to have been lined out and replaced with Yellow Goblin Mountain, perhaps more appropriate at the moment.

Other marks were of little importance right now; a lake to the South East and something like grain stalks throughout the rest of the expanse, but there was something important within two hours walk. It was a drawing of some square rocks jutting out of the ground.

“What does this say?”

Bertram leaned over.

“Amsore Quarry. Can you not read?”

“Apparently not. Though I can understand you just fine.”

“Well, it’s an old stone quarry. Right now it’s probably still infested by the Rock-Rats. They do like to burrow in areas like that.”

Anton continued to look intently at Bertram who took the cue.

“Oh, they look like smaller rat versions of the Yellow Goblins, about the same size but just a rat fur and face. Very stupid but oh how they breed, even more ferocious than the Yellow Goblins.”

“Hmmm…How many are there now?”

“Pfff, around 500 or so last time we checked, though that was some months ago. Once they reach a certain size they split to find a new nesting site after growing too large.”

“Well, I’m going to use my new position to ask for something…”

“Go ahead.”

“Tomorrow, I want around twenty or so volunteers. We’ll all head over to there. I want to see how well the villagers can fight with each other and their teamwork. I also want the walls to be built with stone outside of the wooden wall.”

Bertram leaned back into his chair and stroked his chin. This appeared to be his thinking face.

“20 isn’t enough to fight that many, though I suppose that you have some idea…or at least you can use the Thunderous Roar again. I’ll add it to the announcements. Anything else you’ve got in mind?”

“Why do you keep calling it that?”

“The magician showed me some books when I was younger, she showed me a book of magic. There was an illustration of lightning being used that way. I don’t know where that book is but I’ll look for it.”

Now it was Anton’s turn to lean back and thought.

“Thank you. I need to have a proper walk around to get a better idea of other things that can be improved. Also, I’ve been thinking about how you people get this food. I’ll need to extend the talk afterwards, it looks like everyone else had finished.”

The other villagers had finished. Anton had been watching them in his peripheral vision scoffing down the food, they had obviously been very hungry. Bertram saw this too, signalling to Right Jeff. He stood up and coughing very loudly. Any hint of noise stopped instantly. Everyone was looking at Bertram expectantly. They were expecting something brilliant.

Bertram stood as best he could, cleared his throat and began.

“Everyone…Thank you for coming. I know that it has been trying times of late. Now, we have a decision to make. Anton, as you probably now know, is a mage with no knowledge of his past. He has decided to stay and help for the foreseeable future.”

The villagers started murmuring amongst themselves and nodding. This was good news, though there was bound to be a downside.

“However…”

There it is.

“He cannot win this alone. I have just finished speaking with him and he has some significant plans to help Atros and get us out of this mess. This means that we will ALL be working quite hard every day, no more hiding away and allowing ourselves to wallow in self-pity and despair. We have a chance now and I, for one, intend to use it to the fullest. Those who want to help come near here, the rest of you…those who want to hide away from reality and hope this somehow gets better can stay in your homes and not get in the way. You’ve all had your meals and we don’t know how much longer we have so we’re going to start right now.”

With that Bertram sat back down. Shock and murmurs of disbelief began to run rampant amongst the villagers. Bertram must have never been this firm or brutally honest before.

Over the next few minutes around a hundred people left. Surprisingly some appeared to be quite young, Anton had suspected that the older villagers would be stuck in their ways. Almost 900 people had swarmed the large central table. They were men and women of all ages, some of the younger children had managed to sneak their way through the people and found their way to the front.

Bertram gestured for Anton to stand on the table and address the crowd.

“Can everyone who’s strong raise a hand?”

Around 400 people did so. Most were big men like the Jeffs but around 100 were women. However, he couldn’t see Left Jeff. Anton scanned the backs of those leaving and could see Left Jeff. He mustn’t have left a good impression on him.

“You’re the Construction group. Forgive the name, can’t think of anything better. Can you come with me for a minute, the rest of you just wait a moment and I’ll get back to you.”

Anton led them to a table near the edge of the plaza. After telling those at the centre to stand lower to allow others to see he began to explain his plan.

“Those houses that are burned near the edge of the village need to be torn down and the wood collected.”

Anton had a rudimentary map of the village focusing on the distinction between damaged and non-damaged buildings.

“I want you to use clothing of some kind to protect your hands but work as quickly as fast as you can. Once you’ve got as many as you can they need to be loaded up and brought to the layer of houses that are undamaged. I want a wall to be hammered in as best you can around those houses to form a wall, focus on the areas to the north where the Yellow Goblins attack from.”

“Why do want us to use clothing on our hands?”

One of the larger men asked this. He looked almost like a bear, covered in hair so thick it was almost like fur.

“Because tomorrow some of us are going on the attack and I’ll need all of you at your best. If your hands hurt you’ll just be dead weight. Plus, I think all of you want payback.”

The man-bear nodded and offered no further words despite being given time to speak.

“Alright, you’ve been given your orders. Hurry up and carry them out!”

“Right.” “Yes, Sir!” “Okay.”

The group bounced and jostled as they quickly left, some even ran towards the edge of the village. Within moments Anton could already hear human groans and shouts as they began to tear down the burned buildings.

The remaining villages looked surprised at the burst of enthusiasm, matching their growing sense that they can survive.

He looked over the reaming 400 or so people. Most were the elderly, children and sick. Anton quickly told the sick to not work, rest and gets lots of sleep, water and food. Those 40 or so that were sick looked relieved that they were not going to work, though they were surprised that Anton told them to stay outside. He explained that he felt that most of their buildings are quite stuffy, even his room was somewhat stuffy. After taking some of the chairs and tables into the shade they laid down and slept. Anton hoped that they would get better and if not they would not get in the way nor forgotten if they get worse.

There was also the issue of collecting the crops that had grown. If the Yellow Goblins decided to burn the crops the village would begin to starve in a few days.

“Bertram. I’ll need you to organize the storage; boxes, bags and barrels for the food. This may go on for some time. The rest of you, you’re the Harvest group. Gather all the food you can as quickly as you can and get it inside. All right, let’s go.”

Bertram nodded and Sybil began issuing orders to the remaining villagers. Most of the children ran off with a frightening speed towards the outside of the village, while some headed over to the barns to get them organized under the guide of some of the elders. The elderly and the rest of the adults divided and began their tasks.

Anton was surprised that these people took his orders so quickly.

Guess I’ll need to put in a lot of effort myself.

---[]----

Anton was back at the patch of dirt that was now his training field. Villagers worked behind him but they were far more interested in collecting the crops then watching Anton in his meditation pose. He felt it was more important to properly use his magic, far more beneficial to everyone than an extra hand being added to their efforts.

After half an hour of feeling and controlling the flow of mana, he felt that he had a decent understanding, more than enough to begin experimenting with his power. At the moment he only had a decent understanding of the lightning glyph so it was the best place to start. He really didn’t want to set the village on fire.

He formed the image of a lightning bolt in his head, fueling the image with his mana. Small sparks erupted from his hands, arcing and bouncing between his hands. He fed more mana, changing the shape from a bolt into a ball.

The lightning moved from his hands and coalesced into a ball suspended in the air, slowly writhing and twisting on itself. It grew larger as he fed more mana until it was the size of a soccer ball. It continued to spark and flicker randomly, as if it was a swarm of angry insects trying to escape from a net. The tiniest amount mana still flowed into the ball but it was negligible. It stayed there as if it was waiting for an instruction.

He removed his hands and the orb remained stationary. He placed his hand on his knees and pushed the ball away with mana. As he pushed it away the amount of mana being drawn by the ball grew and grew until it was drawing more mana than it took to make it. 30 meters away he used his mana again to stop its trajectory. The ball was draining a huge amount of mana every moment it existed. He pulled it closer to check, the mana drain lessened.

Back at 30 meters, it was now bubbling and shaking violently, throwing off large sparks scorching the ground.

Anton was starting to feel the dizziness that he felt on the village roof after the lightning storm. He decided that it was time to end it. He ceased the flow of mana. The ball expanded, contracted, then exploded in a blinding and deafening explosion.

It was though a lightning bolt had struck his body; eyes and ears rendered inept by the blast. He recovered after a few seconds, realizing that he had been blown over and was lying on his back.

Once he righted himself he could see the damage; a crater a meter burned into the grass with vein-like scorch lines radiating another few meters out. His ears were still ringing when he realized that some of the villagers where approaching.

“Are you okay?!”

Some of the elderly villagers approached as fast as they could. They looked worried, obviously concerned that their mage may have just blown himself up.

It felt like I just used about a fifth of my mana, I would guess. It’s not an exact science, feeling out mana. Still, it’s nice to know that I can use more mana, though the speed at which I recover is quite odd.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to “experiment.”

The villagers didn’t look convinced that this was just an “experiment”. After telling them numerous times the villagers finally accepted that it was part of his magic training and returned to gathering food after promising to be more careful. Anton was about to start training again when he noticed that two of the villagers hadn’t returned. They were not that old compared to some of the other villagers, probably around 50 or so.

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was endangering anyone, including myself, but I need to do this in order to find out what I can actually do to help.”

The pair didn’t accept the answer, continuing to fidget. This brought a frown to Anton’s’ face, causing the woman to tense slightly.

“It’s…It’s not about that,” began the man, voice wavering and shaking with every word

“Well?”

The old man shuffled again.

“We…We used to have help doing this work, a man and a woman, but… they died the other day near one of the barns. And…”

They must have been the ones that died in front of me.

“I’ll help.”

“Really?” Both wore stunned expressions.

“Yeah. I need to pitch in. I just want to finish up here.”

“Oh, Thanks!”

The elderly couple bowed slightly and left. Anton wanted to try something, something that hopefully won’t try to kill him again.

He formed a lightning ball again, much smaller this time, around the size of a tennis ball. He moved it slightly to the side and formed another one. They floated in the air around a foot apart. With a small amount of mana, Anton fueled one orb to extend and touch the other. Both grew a flickering lightning line that grew and joined in the middle. It appeared stable, continuing to flicker and twist like a live snake.

Anton stood up and walked a step away. The mana demand grew slightly but it was still less than what he could feel coming in.

There was a fist-sized rock on the ground. Anton picked it up.

I wonder…

He tossed the rock onto the lightning tether. The rock exploded into tiny flakes and dust before slowly falling to the ground. The lightning tether disappeared along with the rock yet the balls remained. With an injection of mana the tether returned. Anton found another small rock and tossed it at the tether again. The rock exploded and the tether disappeared and regrew with a little mana again.

Hmm, I wonder what would happen if some meat fell in-between that. I am not feeling very tired and I haven’t lost much mana and it’s recovering faster each time I use magic. Still doesn’t explain what my limits are.

Though this did leave a small problem. The lightning balls were still there and the last time it would have killed him if he cut the mana if they were this close. This time, he slowly reduced the mana supply, the lightning balls reducing in size accordingly. Eventually, he stopped the flow of mana, the lightning balls sizzling out of existence.

He practised again and again, creating and linking more lightning balls with their tethers. By the end there were twenty balls linked in a mesh, yet they drew far less mana than Anton was expecting.

They could be summoned from nearly any distance, but anything more than a meter away and the mana required rose exponentially. The balls themselves could be moved safely to around 30 meters away before they started to lose their form and explode after 35 meters. If the mana was cut abruptly they would explode, even the smaller ones still having quite a nasty explosion. When they were linked together they used less mana, so the 20 linked balls felt around 10 balls.

The villagers had stopped working, probably concerned that Anton was letting off the lightning balls for practice. His mana was starting to get quite low so he cancelled the lightning balls, all fizzling out like before. He turned and left his training patch, feeling mentally tired but satisfied that he could gauge his limits, at least when using lightning.
Anton let out a sigh of relief. Later he would need to find out what he could do with the fire and prayer glyphs. They had been ignored as of late and it may not be a good idea to disregard the gods that gave him their blessings. He made a mental note to try the fire glyph tomorrow, the glyph tingled and heated for an instant as he did so. Perhaps the gods could hear him?

---[]---

“Thank you for helping us.”

All the fruits and grains had been harvested. Anton had no idea on how to harvest the grain. The villagers appeared to use a sickle of some sort, so they directed him to work on the fruit trees. These were not the Karak fruit trees, looking more like an apple tree. The fruit were almost identical in every way, even the taste. Anton asked one of the villagers, much to his surprise they were called apples in this world.

There was another fruit, the tree only had a straight but fat trunk with small branches with small rounded leaves from which the fruit hung. It looked like a grape bunch but was one solid fruit. The older man said it was called a Rock Grape. Apparently, it came from a faraway Kingdom that thrived in the cooler climate. They had a slightly nutty taste, though they apparently numb the mouth after a while.

The other vegetables from lunch had been collected by the other villagers. They had several woven baskets full of each type. Most he recognized but there were still some that he didn’t. The villagers assured him that they were all edible but Anton was a bit hesitant to try all of them right away.

“It’s no problem.”

Anton had two buckets full of apples and rock grapes.

“How long will these last?”

“Oh, a couple of weeks easily. They’ll have set fruit again by then.”

Say what?

“Come again?”

“They grow in a few weeks.” The old man looked as if this was common knowledge. His expression changed, remembering that Anton had no knowledge of the world or its ways. “The mana in the soil and earth allow them to grow so quickly. The less earth mana the slower they grow. Unfortunately, it seems to make the monsters grow equally fast.”

He looked like he knew more than he was saying but Anton didn’t push the issue. He needed more friends before anything like that and if he interrogated everyone it would become exceedingly difficult.

They reached one of the larger barns whilst Anton had been internally thinking again. Villager children were still running about, their energy and enthusiasm were infecting the others who now moved with purpose. Some of the villagers who had walked away had decided to help. An eye would need to be kept on them but Anton hoped that it was a good sign.

By the time they were finished, it was quite full. The villagers were remarking that it would last them many months.

Night was beginning to come in as well. The light had dimmed noticeably and the few villagers still working were dawdling.

Anton arrived back at the main plaza where two groups were loudly arguing with one another. Between them stood the bear man desperately trying to keep them apart. They weren’t the group that left to mope, all were from the construction group. One side had weapons, spears, pitchforks and hammers while the others did not.

“What’s going on?” Anton demanded as he approached. The farming group stayed back, the children being held back by the elderly.

“About time you got here,” replied the bear-man. The two groups stopped arguing and turned their attention towards Anton. “These group of idiots want to go and fight the Yellow Goblins right now and I’m trying to stop them and so is everyone else.”

“Dammit Zac,” began one of the armed villagers, “We’ve got a mage now. They won’t stand a chance now.”

Zac, the bear man, threw his arms up in resignation. Obviously, they had been down this road before.

“I know that you’re frustrated but you can’t let this get to you now.”

Anton shuffled uncomfortably, nearly 800 people looking expectantly at him.

“But…” began the armed villager.

“This is going to be hard to hear, but what you’re planning to do is utterly stupid.”

The armed group looked quite offended but didn’t offer any rebuttal.

“Firstly, it’s getting dark. It’ll take you what, four to five hours to get there?”

“What’s an hour?” One of the children from the farming group asked.

“Oh, it’s…”

Everything was going so well I forgot about that possibility. And I’m not meant to have any memory.

“I think it’s a unit of time, but look. You won’t reach the mountain before dark at the earliest, right?”

All the villagers nodded, the armed group with the least enthusiasm.

“So you’ll be fighting in the dark in a place you don’t know. When I had a look at the Yellow Goblins up close, their eyes are really big, like they can see in the dark. Probably why they attack during the night, and you’ll need torches just to see, which they will obviously see.”

The armed group began looking more dejected, their weapons become less tightly held.

“And potentially worse still, after you all get killed fighting against a superior force, Atros will have lost around 200 or so good fighters, which will pretty much be the end of this place.”

The armed group lost their will. They put down their weapons in a mark of surrender.

“We…just got so frustrated…and…”

Anton shrugged.

“I like your enthusiasm though. Tomorrow, I’m going to need around 50 of you. We need stone for the wall and I’ve been told there’s a deposit that’s being held by something called Rock-Rats. The other 150, I want to start guard duty. We’re all working together so we need to start looking out for each other and this will be a great way for you. Besides, when they come again you’ll get to kill them. Probably not the best plan but it’s one where we don’t all die.”

The armed villagers looked much happier. They were nodding and forming little groups amongst themselves.

Right Jeff emerged from the other group, pushing his way past and bringing Zac to Anton.

“Never thought you’d be able to talk ‘em down.”

“We just needed to give them some hope.”

“Not false hope?”

Zac frowned.

“No. I’ll be getting up early in the morning and leading the 50 or so people to attack the stone mine to the south-west. How good are you at fighting, both of you?”

“Terrible.” Replied Zac, “My hands are for building not killing.”

Anton wasn’t sure if that was true or he just disliked the concept of fighting.

“Pretty good. Got into a lot of scrapes when I was younger…You got an idea?”

“Yes. I want you, Zac, to be in charge of building in the village and Jeff here, will be a commander, rank to be determined later. Speaking of which, how did the construction work go?”
Zac was still a bit shocked from getting promoted.

“Um, Yes. We got quite a bit of the buildings down on the North side, got some of them built like a wall. It’s only around waist height and only for a bit of the northern section but it should help. We should have got more done but…we got distracted.”

Zac looked a bit embarrassed.

“It’ll have to do. How do you feel about helping with tomorrows attack, Jeff?”

“Great.”

Right Jeff didn’t say anything else but looked extremely happy.

---[]---

The rest of the afternoon was relatively uneventful and so was dinner. This involved mainly a vegetable and grain-based mix. Anton hadn’t been a vegetarian on Earth but this new lifestyle wasn’t too bad.

The group that decided to wallow in despair still came for dinner, though they were treated with contempt by those that had worked for their survival. Left Jeff appeared to have become the leader of that group, now about 70 or so people. Throughout the day some had come out and asked to help out, so their power and influence was dropping, but it was when something was wounded they were at their most dangerous and unpredictable. Anton tried to get more information about Left Jeff but everything appeared very normal. Perhaps far too normal, not a single bad rumour. No one was completely free of issues, Anton had even heard that Bertram was a ladies man when he was younger, getting many hits from Sybil when he went too far. It was almost as if he was incredibly deliberate about the way he was perceived. Anton was concerned but needed more support before he could get more aggressive. Nevertheless, Left Jeff and his group had decided to not interfere so far.

The armed group had divided itself into the right number of people. They appeared very eager to fight and Anton wasn’t about to let it go to waste. By the end of the dinner, they were already starting to organize their patrols with very little intention.

Bertram accepted Zac’s new position but had reservations about Right Jeff actually going out and fighting. Right Jeff had managed to convince his parents that he would be safe but they still had concerns.

Now, it was late at night. A single giant white moon and millions of stars illuminated everything below. Torches were burning throughout the village with patrols of five people regularly combing the village. Some other torches had been placed around the village to spot any Yellow Goblins approaching. Anton was surprised at how quickly they had organized a decent defence.

Anton had been allowed to stay in the same room as before. He had asked to keep the map so he could study before going to sleep. There weren’t many points of interest but Anton felt like he could still get a feel for this place.

The chair and everything else creaked as he breathed. He lent back but the creaking continued. It was coming from outside. Quickly coming to a halt once Anton noticed it. Fearing it could be a goblin or a potentially hostile villager he pretended to remain oblivious. He folded the map.

Anton turned to face the window, the creaks started again. Without warning, he charged at the window. The creaking became tumbling of wooden crates. He quickly ran to the window and looked outside. With the light as bad as it was he couldn’t see anyone but could see crates having been overturned. There were sounds of footsteps running away but he couldn’t see the source.

A group of villagers were on patrol. Anton waved them over.

“What’s up?” asked one. He brandished an iron pitch-fork, the most common weapon Anton had seen.

“I just heard something crash through here. Seen or heard anything?”

“No. We’ll keep a lookout though.”

“Thank you very much.”

The villager nodded and indicated to his comrades to move on. Anton shut and jammed the window shut as best he could, lest something get him as he slept. He did not sleep soundly that night.

Chapter 004 - Vol 1

Chapter 004:

Anton awoke properly for the first time, with small streams of light warming his face. His mana had returned completely during the night yet his muscles still ached with a dull throb after yesterday’s exertion. He knew this would be a good chance to test out the prayer power. It had worked rather unexpectedly the previous time, though he felt through his body that it wouldn’t work that easy again. Tethra, the chained priestess god, must have like him allot. The other gods have so far let him discover everything for himself.

He had slept in his old shirt and pants, both more comfortable than anything in the village. Several of the women, led by Sybil, had found it when he was unconscious and found it quite the conversation topic. It continued to fuel speculation and gossip that Anton was some sort of royal magician, as they were the only ones who could possibly afford something so fine.

He got out of the fur bed, the creaks reminding of the other night. Reflecting back on it they, whomever they were, could have dived in and tried to fight and kill him. He wasn't particularly confident in fighting someone armed with a knife, so it could have worked. Instead, they fled at the first sign of trouble. He couldn’t make anything else out of it so he had no choice but to try and remain vigilant.

Okay, Let’s try something ‘prayer-ee’

The mana flowed to his hands, pooling like the first time, but it wouldn’t flow forth back into his body, no matter what mental image of a prayer he had. It worked when he mumbled a vague and half-hearted prayer to Tethra.

“Um…Tethra, God of Prayer. I ask you to heal my wounds?”

Mana surged out his body, entering somewhere. It returned different, somehow foreign. The dull ache of worked muscles disappeared as the new mana surged back in.

He had lost nearly a quarter his mana but he was now fully healed. The muscles on his arms and legs had lost their ache as well as every other ache and pain throughout his body. Anton tensed his arms and legs, he was sure that they felt stronger. Anton inspected the rest of his body; he was of originally a slim and fit build and now his muscles were more defined and slightly larger.

Hmm. Guess it must heal the fibres of the muscle. Bodybuilders would kill for something like this.

The prayer power was both incredibly powerful and demanding, something that he would need to take into account. Perhaps it could regrow wounds or even limbs. The possibilities provided he had enough mana, could be limitless.

Anton quickly dressed in the villager shirt and pants but kept his old shoes. Most of the villagers were wearing wraps of cloth or leather for protection or just went barefoot. Anton wanted the soldiers to, at least, not be going bare-foot for today’s excursion.

After putting his shoes on he left the Main Hall.

Outside, work had begun. The construction group could be seen working in the distance, only a few layers of damaged houses remained untouched. Planks of re-usable wood were already being stored in the main plaza, the tables and chairs already back to their homes. Children darted throughout the plaza following whoever needed help, while the elderly did their best to try and organise what they had.

Anton spotted Zac in the centre of the plaza.

“Good morning Zac,” Anton said as he approached just after a group departs.

The bear man turned and waved.

“Morning Anton. Everything’s going well, now that we’re working together. The first row of houses are nearly down and we’ve got enough wood to start building the wall. What’s this nonsense about needing stone?”

“I don’t know how strong the wooden wall will be. Also, stone won’t rot and overall is stronger…and can’t be set on fire. We’ll use the stone as the wall and the wood for shelters and ramps and stuff.

Zac seemed to understand what Anton wanted of the wall and nodded appreciatively.

“Well, we’ll keep working while you’re out there fighting…and hopefully not dying.”

Zac let out a hearty laugh. Anton replied with a bitter smile. After all, he had no intention of dying or getting others killed.

Behind one of the large buildings that formed the plaza Anton saw a face peering around. Left Jeff was staring at him. Anton had felt uncomfortable the moment he met him but this was starting to get more serious. Anton stared directly at Left Jeff, who panicked and shuffled away from his sight.

The night’s distractions immediately flashed into his mind. However, this felt hostile, unlike the night before. Right now though, he had to keep an eye on Left Jeff.

“I don’t like that one.”

Zac had been looking as well. He sighed.

“He’s always been a queer one. Never liked the way he looks at people, seems like they’re beneath him or something. Plays the part, but you can see he hates it. Don’t know what that’s called but he’s definitely it.”

“Yes…Keep an eye on him and everyone that’s part of his ‘group’.”

“Good idea. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, Zac. Have you seen the good Jeff?”

Zac laughed even louder.

“Yeah, he’s getting the people over the west side of the village. Hope your plan works.”

Anton nodded and headed west.

---[]----

During the short trip through Atros, he was sure that he was being followed again. They weren’t very good but they were determined. They, whoever they were, were content with just keeping an eye on him. Several times Anton tried to lure the stalker by stopping and doubling back, but to no avail.

Anton found Right Jeff right near the western edge of the village. He had gathered around 60 strong looking men and women, armed with thick clothing and the best farming equipment they could find. A small sea of pitchforks and large hammers greeted him. Most smiled and cheered as they saw Anton.

Right Jeff turned and saw Anton. His arms were no longer exposed, wearing a thick brown cotton shirt with patches of a leather substance covering his forearms, shoulders and chest. He actually looked like a proper soldier.

“Mornin’. We’re ready to go here.”

“Oh, I didn’t expect everyone to be up so early.”

“Everyone here was so excited they barely slept.”

Anton was impressed.

“Well, no point waiting around here. Do you know the way?”

“Yep. My father made me memorise the way.”

“Right, well. Let’s get on with it then.”

The armed villagers let out a cheer, pointing their weapons into the air.

As they left, Anton saw a man and woman pair watching them. He recognised them, they were part of Left Jeff’s group. They muttered a few things to each other before returning to the heart of the village. Anton hoped that things wouldn't be too bad when he returned.

---[]----

Amsore Quarry was only an hour’s brisk walk from the village.

It wasn’t like a quarry Anton expected. It wasn't an open pit or carved into the side of a hill as he knew back on Earth. It was a quite large open and flat grassland, probably a square kilometre, with granite-like outcroppings jutting out of the ground. Surrounding the camp were patches of trees and shrubs. They looked similar to those on Earth but were clearly different. Anton and the soldiers stopped and made a rudimentary camp on a small hill overlooking the quarry around 100 meters away. There were dense trees and shrubs on the overlooking hill, obscuring them from sight. A small clearing had been set-up where most of the villagers were resting, waiting for the battle to commence. Anton and a few other villagers took up scouting positions near the edge of the forest.

Scattered near the centre of the quarry were numerous ramshackle wooden and leather huts. From their hiding spot, they could see the Rock-Rats, the upright bipedal rat creatures were swarming from hut to hut.

“They’re quite ugly.”

One of the women soldiers had approached Anton, who was peering out from the side of a particularly large tree. Anton nodded.

“They are. Though they don’t look that strong.”

“Yeah, good kick’ll kill ‘em.”

Right Jeff had approached without a sound before putting his arm around the woman and pulling her in for a kiss. It was short but obviously not an unwanted kiss.

“Ah, this is my partner, Sam. She’s a good girl.”

Sam smiled and bowed slightly. She wasn’t the most attractive woman he had seen but she wasn’t bad; tall and strong looking with obvious scars from fighting. Her brown hair was kept short, like most of the women he had met. Combined with her brown eyes made her look quite docile, though Anton could see that clearly wasn’t the case. He wondered who courted who.

“Nice to meet you, Sam. What do you know about these things?”

Sam and Right Jeff shrugged.

“Just that you can kill them with a good kick,” Sam said.

Anton nodded and returned his attention the quarry.

He quickly tried to count how many there were but it was a near impossible task. They were quite active, moving from hut to hut while some carrying small bags and spears.

“Christ, there must be hundreds of them”

Right Jeff cocked his head.

Ah, I did it again.

“Though they do look quite panicky,” Sam added.

Anton looked more closely, thankful that he had been saved. All the Rock-rats were emerging from the tents carrying stone spears.

“Ah, do they know we’re here?” asked Right Jeff.

They continued to watch for a few moments, hoping to not have to flee so soon. The Rock-rats gathered on the northern side of their encampment. They were trying to form some sort of defensive line.

Anton’s attention was brought towards the north. A swarm of yellow was just entering the quarry.
“Goblins…That explains why they’re so worried.”

Anton gestured for the others to look. The villagers quickly scrambled to their feet, taking positions along the tree line.

The Yellow Goblins were close enough to get a vague count, almost 500 of them. Around the same number of the Rock-rats assembling. This would be a close fight.

Why are the Yellow Goblins moving in now? Atros. Perhaps they want to get another direction to attack from. If that’s the case they are far more intelligent than anyone gives them credit. Perhaps collectively.

The two forces assembled opposite each other, each of the monsters snarling and hissing at the opposing side. A few seconds, a Rock-rat threw a small wooden spear, striking a Yellow Goblin in the chest. It didn’t even twitch before falling forward, the wooden spear digging into the ground, pivoting the goblin before crashing onto its side.

The other Yellow Goblins stared in disbelief. Their heads snapped back up towards the Rock-rats. One of the larger and ornate goblins stepped forward, raising its weapon before letting out a terrifying screech. The other Yellow goblins reciprocated the howl and charged.

Within seconds the two breeds of monster cut and tore at each other.

“Excellent,” Anton said, with a smirk on his mouth.

Some of the villagers looked on with shock.

“How?”

“They’re doing most of the work for us.”

The villagers didn’t look particularly pleased.

“Would you rather that we fought them both and lost honourably or fight the survivors and live?”

The villagers didn’t refute his words, they just didn’t feel good about being a ‘coward’.

“A few people keep watch on the battle below. Tell us if something changes, we don’t want one of them charging in this direction. Everybody else, get some rest.”

---[]----

Anton chose a place near the edge of the clearing to try and get a nap as best they could. The others were trying their best to sleep but it was hard to with the sounds of battle below.

It continued for a few minutes before dying off, rising a few seconds later. Anton rose, brushing the grass and dirt off him before getting to his feet.

Behind him the shrubs rustled. It felt the same as when he was in Atros. None of the other villagers appeared to have heard it. Anton told the nearby villagers that he’s going to have a look on the other side of the hill. They nodded and asked him to be careful.

He walked in the direction of the rustling. It retreated as he advanced, but kept the same distance.

I really don’t want to be stuck here all day. I hope they saw me training the other day.

Anton formed three lightning balls in front of him, tethering them.

“If you’re there, you’ve seen what these can do. In a moment I’m going to push these over to you and detonate them. I’ll give you to the count of three to come out….one….”

“Stop!”

It was a deep yet feminine voice. Anton kept the lightning balls active as the rustles got closer.

“Please don’t…do that loud thing please.”

A girl emerged from the shrubbery. She had almost white hair, with silvery streaks running through. It was cut short but very ragged and scruffy, probably done by herself. Her face was sharp with fine features, but it was spoiled slightly by the massive grin she wore the second she arose. There was dirt covering her fair-skinned face, some of it very black. Soot perhaps? The girl was short, probably only coming up to the middle of Anton's chest. She wore the same clothes as the rest of the villagers, loose long-sleeved shirts and pants. Yet they appeared somehow worse and more deteriorated.

But what drew Anton’s attention were her eyes. They were a deep blue, like glaciers. Anton found himself staring into them for what felt an age, both eerie and beautiful. He quickly shook himself back to reality.

“Who are you?”

The silver girl looked nervously behind Anton as she picked leaves out of her hair, apparently hoping the other villagers hadn’t seen her.

You couldn’t be out of your teens. What are you doing here?

“Name’s Verona.”

Verona held out her hand. Apparently shaking hands was a custom here as well.

Anton tentatively reached out and shook her hand. She flushed slightly as they made contact. After they broke she stared at her hand for a moment, perhaps perplexed that a mage would actually talk or acknowledge to a villager.

Verona didn’t say anything but continued to stare, switching from shocked to her ridiculously large grin again.

In a place like this, I hope she’s not a crazy.

Anton hadn’t cancelled the lightning balls. They hovered to the side. Verona kept glancing towards them.

“I take it that you were the one following me?”

Verona flushed vividly, obviously not expecting to have been found out so easily. She dug her feet along the grass and dirt, back and forth, obviously trying to hide her embarrassment.

Anton noticed that they had the same black soot marks as the rest of her body.

“Ummm….”

“You weren’t very good, you know?”

Her smile returned.

“Yeah,” she began scratching the back of her head, “I was trying to figure out what you were.”

Anton didn’t speak, allowing Verona to gather her thoughts. The lightning balls continued to flicker and crackle, making the awkward silence slightly more bearable.

“Well, when all the adults gathered together yesterday, I thought that they, and you, were going to fight those fucking goblins.”

Anton was stunned slightly at hearing her swear with such anger. She even bared her teeth, like she was about to spit at having to mention the goblins. He allowed her anger to subside and continue.

“Then you made them stop, after saying that you were going to fight, so I got confused. When I heard about you doing this I got even more confused. So, I decided to follow you. Didn’t do a good job, huh?”

Verona was still smiling even as Anton began nodding. It would be understandable for confusion, telling them one thing and seemingly do another. He was surprised that more hadn’t tried to stalk him. Perhaps they had, she was just the first one he caught.

She mustn’t have heard what I said to stop them. Still though, what to do now?

Her composer began to break under Anton’s judging gaze. She no longer moved except her eyes, darting between Anton and the three circling lightning balls.

Deciding that she probably wasn’t much of a threat he withdrew his mana from the lightning balls, shrinking quickly before fizzling out of existence.

Verona breathed out in relief, thankful that she was no longer under suspicion. She began to lean down to pick up something in the shrubbery before stopping, her head snapping up at Anton, a tinge of fear in her eyes. She slowly continued.

Anton didn’t react physically as Verona leant and grabbed something. It was a stick, quite a long one, though given Verona’s height it wasn’t saying much. It was roughly cut to a point at one end, probably done by her own hands judging by how impressed she looked at it.

Something clicked in his mind. Truthfully, he felt embarrassed for taking so long. She was here to fight with the others. But she was so young to be fighting, at least in his mind.

“Verona,” her apprehension disappearing as he called her by her name. “I appreciate the sentiment, but this is something that should be left to adults…”

One of her eyes twitched. She stomped her wooden spear into the ground.

“Hmph…I’m 18 winters, I think. Besides I can fight, I know some people my age that are already married.”

People do marry early in these medieval societies. There wouldn't be any people otherwise. It would explain why some very young people looked pregnant and had small children running around.

Neither of them looked as though they wanted to continue the line of conversation so Anton switched to something more proactive.

“Do you know how to use that?” Anton gestured to the wooden spear.

Verona threw the spear into the air before catching it, spinning it around before catching it and pointing it at Anton.

“Get them with the point?” She raised an eyebrow quizzically.

I wonder how long it took for her to get that right.

“Well, that’s true but…”

“Hey!!!”

Sam and Right Jeff emerged, running and smashing through the thickets.

“It’s over, the…” Sam spoke first but stopped when she saw Verona.

“When did you get here?”

“A little bit ago, I’m here to fight,” Verona spoke with enthusiasm, though positioning herself so Anton was in between them took away some credibility.

“Well, whatever,” began Right Jeff, “The battle’s over. You need to come see it.”

Anton nodded. They began to head back to the main camp, Verona sticking close to Anton.

---[]----

Villager soldiers turned to look at Verona when they emerged. Some looked as if they wanted to say something as they walked through, but Verona’s close proximity to Anton kept them at bay.

They took up position at the tree-line.

The battle was well and truly over. The Rock-Rats had won. Yellow and furred bodies littered the grassland, their crimson blood spattered over the rocks. Some were still twitching. A few Rock-Rats moved from body to body, prodding them for any movement. Occasionally they would find one still twitching, raising then driving a stone spear through its skill. It didn’t seem to matter whether or not it was a goblin or a Rock-Rat, all were being killed.

If what the old couple said was true, then they probably find it easier and quicker to replace than to heal them. Brutal and cold, but if they can, effective I suppose.

The other villagers joined them at the tree-line. They seemed similarly sickened by the display in the quarry. Their enemies were monsters, but they must have thought they would have compassion for their own kind. Apparently not.

Far to the north, Anton could make out small yellow specks disappearing into the distance. Some of the Yellow Goblins must have survived. It still didn’t make the situation feel any better.

Anton walked away from the tree line and back to the makeshift camp to address the villagers.

“The battle’s over. Everyone get ready.”

Some villagers grumbled but all did as he said, gathering what weapons they have.

A village of this size should have a blacksmith of some sort. Another thing I have to figure out.

He felt a tug on his sleeve.

Verona looked at him with questioning eyes, almost pleading if she could come and fight. Anton had no intention of getting youngsters killed on his account.

“Verona, please stay here. After this is all over we'll be coming back here and the last thing we'll need is it to be discovered and crawling with monsters. Can you do that?”

“Got it!”

She stomped the blunt end of the spear into the ground, her grin returning.

Anton smiled and checked that the other villagers were getting ready. He hoped that it would be enough to keep her out of harm's way, but he knew that she would follow regardless of what he said. He could see it in her eyes; the fire, energy and hatred for monsters, specifically the Yellow Goblins, was something fierce bubbling underneath her icy eyes. He sighed, praying to the gods that she would actually listen.

---[]---

Something was itching at the back of Anton's mind as they left the safety of the trees. It wasn't the sudden appearance of Verona, nor her probable following of the soldiers. Nor was it about the ramshackle force that he was leading. It was about his own role in the fight to come.

His understanding of magic was shaky at best. He still had no real understanding or practice with fire, which might be useful against furred creatures, and the prayer power was just for healing. The lightning balls were his only real offensive ability so far. There was the 'Thunderous Roar', but that would knock him out and leave everyone in danger.

More annoying was that he had limited understanding of the lightning balls and the tethering, as he called it. He still had no idea what happens if something touched the balls rather than the tether, an oversight that Anton loathed to remember.

The Rock-Rats noticed them almost as they left the tree-line. The few that served as scouts waited a moment, probably hoping that they were going in a different direction, before screeching an alarm. A few hundred quickly gathered, almost like a stream of water weaving between the rock outcroppings. Some were still bloodied and wounded from the battle. Only a few were left to guard the largest of the huts in their camp.

Anton formed the villagers into a line, two villagers deep. This would allow, at least in his mind, the best force they could use given what they had available.

The Rock-Rats formed a line as well, as best they could.

Both sides stood almost 100 meters apart. At this distance there were few large rocks to obscure their vision or for the Rock-Rats to hide around. Anton was glad that at least they would have the terrain on their side, for now at least.

Anton gave a rough signal with his hand to advance. The villagers did so, their steps matched by the Rock-Rats retreat. The villagers had longer strides and quickly closed in.

80 meters.

As they continued to approach the rock outcroppings began to get larger, almost up to hip height. At this distance, Anton could start to make out the differences between the Rock-Rats.

Some were clearly more muscular and furred than the other types who had significantly less hair. Probably male and females were coming out to fight. They must truly be desperate.

60 meters.

Anton could see nipples on the less haired Rock-Rats now. There must be 10 on each one. Truly ferocious breeders.

There was panic in their faces now, as best as Anton could reason. Their faces were slack, teeth no longer bared. Screeches and squawks travelled up and down the line, each looking to their neighbour hoping for an answer, but none came.

40 meters.

The stones were now taller than the villagers and becoming quite dense. Over the retreating line of Rock-Rats they could see their huts and tents. They were simple constructs, with only a few decorations. A few of the rocks were painted with crude memorials of Rock-Rats.

As the villagers continued to advance the Rock-Rat line approached a large outcropping. Many stopped when they backed into it, stunned that they could no longer retreat, clawed hands quickly feeling at the stone.

Anton saw one glance back at the stone, it's face changed. It drew back, no longer slack from surprise and baring its teeth. It let out a grunt, different than any of the others, loud and almost guttural.

Others looked towards this one then back to their encampment. Around 50 meters further back stood their encampment. They repeated the guttural call, travelling down the line, each stopping as it carried on the call.

The Rock-Rats came to a complete halt. Anton motioned for the villagers to move forward, but the Rock-Rats did not budge a step. This was their line and they would hold it or die.

Anton was slightly irritated. His magic, currently, ended if he went further than 30 meters.

The stand-off continued for a few tense moments, each second stretching for what felt like minutes. Anton scoured his villager soldiers for some way to make them charge. Near the back he found it. A bow, or more specifically an armed villager with a bow over his back. He was tall and looked strong enough to use the bow effectively. Anton shuffled through the lines towards him, the hole that he left immediately filled by another villager.

“You.” Anton pointed towards the bow-wielding villager. He obviously did not expect to be addressed by Anton.

“Any good with that bow?”

“I'm alright. I brought it along...”

“Doesn't really matter why, just so long as you use it now. How many arrows have you got?”

“20.”

“Anyone else got a bow or arrows?” Anton asked loudly. No-one else made any movement.

“Right, it's just you then.”

Anton guided the bowman to the front where he stood moments before.

“You think you can hit them from here?”

“Yes.” The Bowman said matter-of-factly.

“We need to break their line and make them charge. Hopefully, this will piss them off enough to do that. Fire as many as you can as well as you can.”

The Bowman nodded, drawing back the bow. Wood creaked and groaned underneath the strain. The bow looked quite old and worn, hopefully it would hold up for today at least.

He fired, the thunk echoing throughout the silent battlefield. The arrow flew, faster than Anton could reliably make out, and struck its target, the Rock-Rat immediately next to the one that stopped the line.

The arrow pierced straight through its eye, driving through its brain and out its skull. Blood, brain and bone fragments splattered over the stone and back onto its neighbours. Without making a sound or whimper, it slowly fell down and slumped on the ground. It began twitching violently on the ground before going into shock, every muscle clenching as hard as it could, twisting its body into strange contortions as it stopped moving. It was dead.

The other Rock-Rats were shocked, their attention on their downed comrade. Some began reaching for their waists and searching the ground.

Must be those javelins or spears that they had. They mustn't have any more. Looks like we're in luck.

10 more arrows flew in quick succession, each finding their mark.

Each dead Rock-Rat angered the group; snarling, biting and gnashing and jumping in frustration. They were riled up. It wouldn't be much before they charged. Their homes were about to be taken and they were being picked apart one at a time. Someone had to charge first.

One did.

It was the less hairy type, probably a female, that charged first. Eyes full of rage, it dropped its crude spear and ran on all fours, screeching as it did so.

Another followed and then another. Within a few seconds, nearly all of the Rock-Rats were charging at the villagers with reckless abandon.

The Rock-Rat that stopped the retreat desperately tried to stop the charge, even going to so far as to grab a hold back those that it could. But it could only stop a few before they were too far away.
The rest quickly covered the ground towards the villagers.

Anton formed as many lightning balls as he could, the size of two clenched hands, and tethered them forming a line of nine each a foot apart.

The Rock-Rats were less than 15 meters away.

Anton pushed on the lightning balls as hard as he could. The lightning ball chain flew straight towards the chests of the charging Rock-Rats. Their minds, filled by rage, didn't or perhaps couldn't process it in time.

The central ball connected with the chest of a Rock-Rat. Anton could feel the physical resistance through his mana. The flow of mana cut abruptly, severed at its end instead of Anton's.

He could feel it change, but it happened in nearly an instant. The lightning ball contracted ever so slightly then exploded, the force ripping its chest apart, the bits flying towards the other charging Rock-Rats. Sparks from the exploded lightning ball frying the hair of the neighbouring Rock-Rats. The lower torso continued to run as if nothing had happened.

Anton felt and saw the lightning ball explode and the mana flow forcibly being cut but he could still feel its mana, ghostly almost. Instead of dissipating, it flowed down the line, either side to the next lightning ball in the chain, mixing and adding to it.

Each lightning ball swelled, now larger and more violent. The Rock-Rats were now less than 12 meters away. The overcharged lightning balls felt uncontrollable to Anton. He wasn't expecting to have to control that much mana, his concentration slipped for a moment. The flow ceased again.

The next set exploded, killing a dozen Rock-Rats. The blast was considerably larger, ripping the Rock-Rats apart. The combined mana flowed onto the next in the row. Again, they grew in size and power.

Each ball exploded, greater in strength and destructive power.

By the time the last two lightning balls remained, both were larger than his first attempt to use magic. Anton couldn't control them for more than an instant. He tried to draw back the mana, but it wasn't enough.

The last two contracted from the size of a basketball to a clenched fist. Anton felt them erupt, as they tore themselves apart in a twin blinding and deafening explosion. Villager and Rock-Rat alike were blown back.

Anton tried to shield himself but to no avail. He was blown back like the others, landing on-top of others. His eyes and ears hurt, stringing and ringing respectively. It took him a moment to get himself back together.

The other villagers were groaning as Anton righted himself. Without standing, to avoid gaining attention, he quickly surveyed the battlefield.

There were two large craters where the Rock-Rats were charging. They were all dead; twitching and smouldering bodies littered their side. The villagers were far better, only a few had been injured by the lightning blasts. Those could easily be healed with a prayer.

“Quickly! Get up!” Anton barked as loud as he could.

One of the first to rise was Right Jeff. He also saw him help Sam and several others who were struggling to stand.

He'll be good to have around later on.

The Rock-Rats were not all dead, almost a hundred were still alive, barely. Most had missing limbs or at the least flesh torn from their bodies.

Anton could see the panic in their eyes.

“Charge!!” Anton’s cry ran down the line.

They broke into a run, farming weapons forming a spear wall.

The Rock-Rats ran away as fast as they could, their shrieks of despair hurting Anton's ears. The stopper Rock-Rat backed further into the stone, unable to comprehend what occurred. Villagers quickly overtook the Rock-Rats, striking them down as they ran with either impalement by pitchfork or crushed under the force of hammers. It made Anton feel a little uneasy about the barbaric way they were being killed but this was a fight for survival. It had to be done.

Something was concerning Anton though. The villagers were becoming lost in the battle frenzy.

Those few that survived the lightning blast and could move were lead by the stopper Rock-Rat, screeching and pointing its diminutive arm towards their camp.

The villagers, lost in the thrill of the fight, continued past where the Rock-Rats halted.

“Stop!!” Anton yelled, but nearly half the villagers didn't listen and continued their charge.

Those that had stopped gathered around Anton, desperate for instructions. Right Jeff moved his way to the front, but Sam was not with him. Anton could see the panic in his face, trying to find her in the charging villagers. They had nearly reached the edge of the Rock-Rat encampment.

Perhaps we went to early. I should have tried to train them first, instead of thinking that they could just handle this...There's nothing else for it. We need to get in there.

“Stay together as we advance. Hopefully, they won't have become separated. We'll join up and finish this thing.”

The villagers did not let out a cry, simply nodding. They hurried to their comrades.

---[]---

It was chaos inside the Rock-Rat encampment. As they entered the encampment, Anton got a proper understanding of its layout. It was a series of randomly distributed huts and tents throughout a large enclosure. In the centre stood the largest hut, easily the size of the main hall in Atros, adorned with bones and crude paint on its leather exterior. The other tents were only a few square meters but were abandoned. The main hut was still being guarded by several Rock-Rats. Anton could only surmise that this was the most important thing for them, and it would be where they fight the hardest.

Luckily the villagers that had charged had formed two groups, each with around 15 people, now back to back and trying to hold the Rock-Rats off. Their battle frenzy having worn off and now quite panicky as they were increasingly surrounded.

Anton was surprised at the number of Rock-Rats. He thought that most had been killed during the charge, yet they outnumbered the villagers. There were the ones that were guarding the huts, ones from the fight that were battered and bruised and far smaller ones. These smaller ones even had less hair and appeared very weak compared to the others.

Children? They must not have anything else left.

Anton's group stayed close together. A Rock-Rat occasionally would charge but be killed with a single strike from a weapon.

As they neared the first group, tens of Rock-Rats attacked at once. A panicked villager moved to the side, exposing Anton to an attacking adult male. He didn't have time to form the mental image of lightning and was concerned that he might kill villagers like he almost did.

Weapon-less, Anton raised his leg and kicked with all his might as the Rock-Rat lunged at him. He wasn't a particularly strong man, but as his shoe connected with its chest he heard and felt it break; strong resistance then nothing. The Rock-Rat flew back with the kick, crumpling on the ground, desperately trying to breathe. Around him, the others were fighting, but Anton found himself almost transfixed at this creature dying.

For a moment he felt a small amount of pity, but that disappeared as another Rock-Rat bit sharply onto a villager next to him. The village swung down a fist on the creatures head, not killing it but stunning it. She threw it down then pierced its throat with a pitchfork.

They are pretty tough these villagers.

They were a few meters to the next group but another group of Rock-Rats had formed between them.

Anton formed a single small lightning ball in his hand. Compared to before, this used a small amount of mana. He pushed it straight into the head of a Rock-Rat. Again the mana flow was cut from its end but this time the feeling of mana disappeared. The lightning ball contracted and exploded, rendering the upper body of the Rock-Rat into giblets.

Tethering the lightning balls is way too dangerous. Think I'll use this for now. There'll more time to experiment when I haven't blown myself to pieces.

He formed them again and again, clearing a path to the encircled villagers. He dared not try forming the tethers again.

Anton's group merged with the first villager group.

“Everyone alright?” Anton asked the beleaguered villagers.

“Yeah. We are now,” answered Sam.

Right Jeff ran up and hugged her. They both seemed glad to see each other alive.

“Alright, no time for that,” began Anton, Right Jeff and Sam separating, “We need to get to the others first.”

They could see the other group, they were not doing well. Only seven or eight villagers could fight well, the rest were bloody and kept in the centre for protection. In between the two groups lay the large guarded hut.

As he pondered the next move, another villager retreated to the centre. Time was running out and he knew it.

“Keep your guard up as we go past the main hut. Who knows what's going on in there.”

The large group moved at a quick pace. The Rock-Rats continued to throw themselves at the villagers, becoming more desperate as they got closer to the main hut. The guards charged at the villagers. Anton formed lightning balls, firing them at the guards, each dying a gruesome death.

As they passed the main hut Anton peered in as best he could. Loose flaps acted as doors, but there was something moving them.

Before Anton could say anything, the flaps burst open. Nearly fifty Rock-Rats surged out. These were not like the others, these had well-made stone spears and basic leather armour.

“Watch out!” was all Anton could manage before the armed group crashed into theirs.

The villager group broke under the charge, forming small pockets of two or three villagers, Anton near the edge. He was with two male villagers he didn't recognise, he did recognise the panic on their faces.

Anton contemplated for an instant of tethering the lightning balls but thought it too risky. Instead, he formed as many single lightning balls as he could safely manage, around five at a time. He pushed them into the armed Rock-Rats around him, each still dying easily as they were torn to pieces by the explosions. The immediate area was clear. Anton formed another batch of lightning balls and readied to fire them.

“Gah!!”

The villager beside Anton cried out. Anton turned around. 10 armed Rock-Rats had got behind them and had attacked the villager, a stone-tipped spear piercing his shoulder. The other villager was similarly set upon, leaving Anton exposed.

4 of the armed Rock-Rats charged straight at him. He tried to form more lightning balls but couldn't, he was panicking. He formed two extra lightning balls, but the strain of controlling the others existed, was too much. He fired both as best he could, one hitting a head, the other missing.

3 were still charging. Anton tried to form another set but he was too late. The first Rock-Rat lept with only a meter remaining, spear forward.

Not gonna' die like this.

Anton raised his right foot to defend himself. The Rock-Rat shifted the spear up, the tip of the stone spear pierced the sole of the shoe and going through his foot.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That hurts!.

His concentration broke, the other lightning balls exploding behind him. The Rock-Rat that stabbed his foot looked unmistakably happy, he was sure it was smiling. It was stuck keeping the spear in Anton's foot but the other two were free to move. The two villagers were faring better but couldn't get to him in time, even if they won straight away.

The other two Rock-Rats ran either side, spears aimed straight at Anton's chest.

“LOOK OUT!!!”

A familiar voice brought Anton out from his stunned state. He looked to his right.

A silvery wisp. Verona.

She ran as fast as she could, face red from exertion. At the last second, she leapt with all her might, driving her wooden spear through the throat of the Rock-Rat to the right. It didn't even have time to react, dying instantly with a gush of crimson blood. The force of her charge continued, carrying both her and her victim into the Rock-Rat pinning Anton, stabbing it in the chest.

As the pinning Rock-Rat fell over with the group it released its hold on the spear. It was still in Anton's foot, but now he could move freely.

Verona couldn't hold the momentum, the pinning Rock-Rat still alive and fighting. It dug its feet into the grass and stopped, spinning them away from Anton.

The Rock-Rat to the left of Anton stopped suddenly, dirt and grass flying into his face, obscuring his vision for a moment. It turned around to attack Verona, who was still lying on the ground. The pinning Rock-Rat had red foam erupting from its mouth. Verona had pierced its lung.

Verona saw the Rock-Rat charging at her, the blood draining from her face. Anton could see tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She thought that this was the end.

The Rock-Rat was only half a meter away from Anton and had another two to travel before reaching Verona. Anton grabbed the spear in his foot but it would not budge, the pain blinding. His left foot still worked fine.

You aren't going to get another person, you shit!

Anton tried to stand but the spear prevented him. Instead, he lunged at the Rock-Rat, using all the strength he could muster in his left leg.

He crashed into the Rock-Rat, landing on its front with Anton on top. It only had a meter before reaching Verona, but its spear could still reach. With a terrible screech, it attacked, stabbing her in the upper thigh.

“Gah!” she screamed, her voice on the edge of crying.

The pinning Rock-Rat had stopped moving at last. Verona turned her attention to the Rock-Rat Anton was wrestling. She grabbed the spear tip with both hands, keeping it in her and not available for the Rock-Rat.

The Rock-Rat underneath Anton struggled to free itself but couldn't. It turned onto its back, the fur proving surprisingly hard to get a proper hold on. It swiped a clawed hand at Anton's face. Anton bent up to avoid it but it latched onto his arm. He could feel the claws trying to rip his skin and flesh apart.

He couldn't use magic at this range, lest he kill himself in the explosion. He latched both hands onto its neck and squeezed hard. He didn't care about the pain, he had to kill this thing first.

The Rock-Rat squealed and squirmed under Anton's force. It gave up the idea of escaping, using its other hand to attack Anton.

Pain and anger surged through Anton's body. Adrenaline was flooding his body, the pain starting to dissipate.

Quickly, the Rock-Rat's struggles became weaker and weaker, no longer able to hold on. Its bloody claws retracting from Anton's arm.

He felt a crack in the Rock-Rat's neck, the resistance of the windpipe gone. Almost instantly it went limp and died.

Anton waited a moment before releasing. After he could no longer feel a pulse he got off the creature. The spear was still lodged in his foot. With the adrenaline still working, he pulled it out in a single strike. Blood gushed out of the open wound. He wrapped both hands around the shoe, slowing the blood flow.

Hope this doesn't make me unconscious again.

“Tethra, God of Prayer. I beseech you to heal my wounds.”

Anton decided to use the most official sounding words he knew. Mana flowed out and back into his body, his wounds closing before his eyes in a few seconds. It took considerable mana to heal himself but less than before.

Am I becoming better at this? More experiments to do later. How is everyone else going?

He could see villagers having formed groups again and were holding off the armed Rock-Rat's. No one appeared to be dead, which was good. Many were injured though, and the fight was beginning to take its toll.

“Holy shit.” said a deep feminine voice.

Anton looked over at Verona, still clutching the stone spear tip in her wound. He crawled over and kneeled beside her.

“Since when were you a healer?” Verona looked honestly shocked after seeing Anton’s wounds close before her eyes.

“I think I always could,” Anton replied, bending the truth slightly. “I don't know if I can heal your wound but let's give it a go.”

Anton took Verona's hands and guided the spear out of her leg. There was lots of blood. He could even see the bone.

How tough are you girl? Very, obviously.

Anton repeated the same prayer as before, considerably more mana flowing out of him. This time he could feel it entering Verona's body. It felt, for an instant, that he was sharing two bodies at once. Underneath his hands, they both watched as the muscles and skin rebound themselves before closing the wound. Despite the blood, there was no indicating that she had been injured.

“Thank you, Verona. If it weren't for you I'd probably be dead now.” he reached out and rubbed her head. Her hair was surprisingly soft to the touch. “I'm glad you didn't listen to me.”

Verona flushed lightly before the smile returned to her face.

“I'd do it again. Never thought I'd have the chance to kill something. We'd better get back into it.”

Verona nodded towards the villagers.

Anton tried to stand, but the dizziness had returned. He could tell he wasn't about to pass out again but it was close. He stumbled, hand pressing onto a dead Rock-Rat to try and stabilise himself. Verona grabbed his arm and put it over her shoulders, holding him up.

“Thanks, this should be enough.”

Verona nodded.

Anton formed three lightning balls. He gestured to Verona to move towards the still ongoing fights. As they got close enough to a group of villagers Anton fired the lightning balls at the Rock-Rats, killing them and freeing the villagers to join his group.

None questioned why Verona was there.

They formed a circle with Anton at the front, quickly moving from one fight location to another. Anton used the few lightning balls that he could safely manage to deadly effect. Each villager saved increased their strength.

A minute later, all the Rock-Rat's were dead.

The villagers let out a cheer. Men and women hugging, crying at the relief that they succeeded and were alive. What was most amazing was, despite the last minute attack, no one had died. Anton saw Right Jeff and Sam had done okay so that was good news. What wasn't was his lack of mana. There were many villagers that would need serious attention and they could be out of commission for weeks to months if not treated soon. They sat down in a relatively body free section of the encampment.

Right Jeff approached Anton. Verona was still at his side. No longer holding him up but staying very close. She even had the Rock-Rat's stone spear tip, some grizzly trophy from her first kill perhaps?

“Well, that coulda' gone much worse.” Right Jeff chuckled, but Anton could tell there was a tiredness behind it.

“Yes. We'll need to be better trained and armed before the next fight. I think we got lucky here. And I don't feel like repeating today again.”

Right Jeff and, from the corner of his eye, Verona nodded.

“But,” began Anton, “We have the quarry now and a supply of stone for the wall. Some big pieces are loose in the grass, so they'll be our first delivery.”

Anton looked around at the villagers lying down.

“Though, perhaps not today. We've got a lot of wounded.”

“Did you know he's a healer?” Verona asked Right Jeff.

He appeared surprised, though it faded quickly.

“Shoulda' guessed it. Crazy bugger like yours'elf probably would be.”

Anton raised his hands in opposition to this statement.

“It's really still as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I don't have much mana left to heal the others. We'll have to get them back to Atros as safely as we can, then I can have those Karak fruits and we'll be fine.”

Right Jeff perked up, remembering something. Without saying a word, he walked over to his spot and brought back a bag. He reached in and brought out a Karak fruit.

“Had a feelin' that you might need this. Got a couple more in here too.”

He tossed it at Anton.

Anton bit as deeply as he could. He didn't realise how thirsty he actually was. With each chew his mana being recovered bit by bit. After finishing the first fruit he could feel his mana was around a third of what it was originally and it felt like it was restoring faster too.

Verona watched this, confusion evident on her face. She didn't know that this was important to a mage.

With his mana mostly restored he picked himself up. The dizziness had gone. Verona offered to hold him up again but looked disappointed when Anton turned her down. Right Jeff returned to Sam and the others while Verona followed him.

He walked to the most injured villagers. These had deep cuts and wounds. Not life threatening yet but given some time it could kill them. The villagers nursing these few made a gap for Anton to kneel next to them. He didn't recognise the villager in front of him but he would try to heal him.

I don't want to heal them so much that I pass out, or need a constant supply of those sweet fruits. This'll be a good time to see if I can actually control the prayer power.

Anton hated himself a little for using the villagers suffering as a chance to experiment. Regardless, he would still do it.

He placed his hand on the arm of the villager. This one had deep wounds over his chest and arms. The bleeding had stopped, but he was in obvious pain.

“Okay,” Anton muttered under his breath, “Tethra – God of Prayer. Heal this man.”

This time Anton did his best to imagine the wounds healing slightly. The mana left his body, but nowhere near as much as he expected. The man's wounds did heal but not completely, losing their redness and inflammation and significantly reducing in size.

Anton sighed in relief. The mana use was considerably less and he could still move. The other villagers stared in awe. Some muttered that Anton must be someone truly special and powerful. He didn't respond, moving from one wounded person to another, Verona never leaving his side.

---[]---

Twenty minutes later every critically wounded villager was now healed. Right Jeff had brought almost eight Karak fruits with him, Anton using half to make sure everyone was healed.

Despite the near tragedy that could have befallen them, the opinion of Anton was incredibly high. Especially now that they knew he could heal as well as use lightning.

Anton had ordered everyone to get ready to depart. The plan was to have as many carts and people as possible to carry as much stone away as possible every day. Today would see the villagers still at Atros swap over and take a single batch away. Anton found that many rocks were loose, so getting enough wouldn't be a problem.

Something was irritating him. Not like before but still present.

Where had those armed Rock-Rat's been before the charge and why were the juveniles sent out before them? Anton suspected at the answer, but it was something he was hoping to avoid.

Everyone had stayed away from the large central hut, fearing that another charge was coming. Anton wasn't that superstitious but felt it couldn't hurt to stay away.

He was looking at one of the armoured Rock-Rat's that had suffered a lightning ball to the head. The rest of its body was intact.

Anton asked Right Jeff for a knife.

“You going do that again?”

Anton nearly rolled his eyes. Verona titled her head in question.

“No, just remove the armour.”

“Let me help ya.”

This particular Rock-Rat had almost a full set of leather armour and most of the others nearby were further injured.

Right Jeff handed Anton a knife and took one for himself. They began cutting away the straps and links holding the parts of the armour together. Verona leaned in next to Anton to get a better look.

After removing it, Anton began questioning his feeling. This one looked like every other 'female' type he had seen; less fur and a row of nipples down its front.

Anton put his hand on its front. It was tepid in temperature to the touch, somewhat uncomfortable. He felt something as he moved his hand. Each nipple felt soft and engorged. They may have even been recently wet, slightly damp to the touch.

He looked around for a regular female type and walked over to it. Their nipples were small and hard.

Anton knew what he would probably find inside the main hut. He walked towards the main flap, knife still in his hand. Verona, with her captured spear, and Right Jeff, with a knife as well kept close.

He opened the flap with his knife, enough to let the light in and catch a glimpse. There was movement. He let the flap close. It had only been an instant but he knew what they were.

“Verona.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to go back to the others. Go find Sam and wait with her.”

“Why. What's happening?”

“Verona...Please.” Anton asked with some force.

Verona opened her mouth to speak but held it back.

“Okay.” she nodded and walked away, glancing over her shoulder.

“What was that about?” Right Jeff asked.

Anton waited until Verona was far away before opening the hut again. Right Jeff looked in and gasped. Anton opened the flap completely.

Inside there were piles of torn clothes. Within them lay hundreds of writhing sausages. Except they weren't sausages. They were babies, recently born probably.

“Bloody...In the name of the gods, what do we do?”

“They'll die in a few days, from hunger and exposure. I'm not going to keep these things.”

Right Jeff raised his knife but Anton gently lowered Right Jeff's arm.

“That won't be necessary.”

Anton gestured for Right Jeff to step back.

A good chance to experiment more.

Anton used the flame glyph, forming the image of a roaring flame in is his mind. He fed mana to it, feeling to warmth in his hand. He held out his right hand, the flame glyph glowing bright red. He wasn't entirely sure if the other glyphs glowed, he was focusing on other things at the time.

A torch of red-hot flame erupted from his hand shooting into the hut. The wood and leather catching fire instantly. Within seconds the entire structure was on fire.

Anton heard the crackles and pops underneath the roar of the fire. Occasionally a screech, then nothing. Anton didn't have the stomach to kill them by hand or exposure. He told himself over and over that this was the best end they could get.

Right Jeff backed away, hands raised to shield him from the heat. Anton could barely feel the heat.

How strange. Perhaps its because it was started by the glyph.

Anton walked away. The fire would burn itself out in a few minutes, hopefully. He found quickly found Verona sitting next to Sam, her silver hair like a light in the sea.

The other villagers didn't question Anton as he walked by. They looked too tired mentally to care.

“What was that about?” Verona asked, running up to him as he approached.

“It...It's difficult to explain properly. Don't worry about it.”

Verona didn't seem satisfied, puffing her cheeks slightly. She didn't press the issue after it became obvious to her that he wouldn't tell her anything else. Her usual smile and demeanour returned.

Right Jeff sat next to Sam, clearly still shaken by what he had seen and the knowledge of what Anton had done.

“You taking that with you?” Anton asked Verona, pointing to the Rock-Rat spear.

“It's better than my stick. It's still in them.”

“Well then, we'd all better get ready to go.”

Anton turned to the villagers.

“Everyone! We leave...as soon as we're ready!” Anton yelled towards the villagers.

“You three.” Anton pointed to two men and a woman soldiers that were idling about.

“Make sure everyone's ready. If they can't move, get people to carry them.”

The three nodded and left, Anton heading off to other groups of villagers.

Verona and Sam lent towards Right Jeff.

“What happened in the tent?” Verona and Sam asked Right Jeff.

He just shook his head and refused to say anything more.

Chapter 005 - Vol 1

Chapter 005:

The villagers had Atros back in sight. Anton was glad to see the ramshackle assortment of houses. At least he would be able to have a decent sleep.

Verona had remained close to Anton. Occasionally she looked like she wanted to ask something. She would reach out to grab his arm but hesitated, continuing to walk in silence.

It was getting to him. Other villagers were talking and laughing amongst themselves while he was in silence.

“Verona?”

She perked up and jogged to catch up. She didn't say anything, just stared at him.

“I didn't want to keep you away from something important. What I had to do there was not something you would have wanted to see. I hope you can understand.”

Verona nodded and smiled. She ran around Anton, finally a bit of happiness to her step, eventually walking right beside Anton, captured spear still in her hand.

They didn't speak for the rest of the trip but they both had a bit of a spring in their step.

---[]---

When they finally entered the village everyone stopped what they were doing and ran up to them.

Everyone wanted to know how it had gone. Anton hanged back and listened. They gave a glowing recount of Anton, most were only slightly surprised that Anton could use healing magic.

Bertram, Sybil and Zac made their way through the crowd to Anton.

“Hearing that you're a healer is no longer surprising,” began Bertram, “We'll get a group ready to collect some stone.”

“Not too many though, everyone needs a good sleep.”

Zac shuffled slightly. “You'll be happy to know that we've got nearly a quarter of the damaged houses pulled down. For the stone, I guess myself and around thirty to forty people and around a dozen carts, that'll be a good start for today.”

Anton nodded in agreement.

“If something goes wrong don't be afraid to run if you can.”

Zac nodded and left to gather his people. Bertram and Sybil remained.

“What happened?” asked Sybil, “Everyone's saying different things.”

Anton quickly recounted what happened. Both were entranced by Anton's retelling, other villagers listened in too. When Anton finished Sybil looked at him quizzically.

“Wait, Verona?”

She looked around.

“I haven't seen her in some time.”

Anton furrowed his eyebrows and looked around for Verona but he couldn't see the silver wisp. He was sure she was just beside him a moment ago.

I better have not lost it already, that...

“Do you know where she lives?”

Bertram and Sybil looked concerned at each-other. Bertram spoke first.

“She and her family lived on the far east side of the village...On the first night when we were attacked that area went up in flames, her family along with them. It's just that everything's been so chaotic...”

Anton raised his hand to stop them.

“I'm not going to judge what has happened, but everyone that doesn't have a safe home needs to be brought in.”

“We...”

Anton wasn't going to listen to excuses.

“Find room. Not with those that still refuse to work. I take it that there are still quite a few of them.”

Both nodded, glad to be going onto a different topic.

“Around thirty to forty people. No one has left in some time so I don't think any more will. I don't understand them.”

“You don't have to. It just needs to make sense to them. On another topic, do we have a blacksmith here?”

“Yes,” answered Sybil, “Near the south. It's the one with the large stone chimney.”

She pointed as best as she could. Anton could see what was probably a chimney for a medieval village.

“Also, get your son to get everyone that's not tired to start training, physically and team-work. He's in charge, for now. Seems to have a good eye for it.”

Anton looked towards the sun. It was becoming late in the afternoon. Still long enough for him to get things in motion.

“Right, how will I know when I see Verona's house?”

“It had a garden out the front with small blue flowers, I don't know if they're still alive though.”

“That'll do for now. Make sure that everyone gets a good sleep...and a roof over the head.”

Anton walked towards the east without saying another word. Bertram and Sybil breathed a sigh of relief.

“Guess we'd better get to work then,” Bertram told Sybil. They both left to try and organise what they could.

---[]---

Left Jeff, or as everyone except Anton knew him, Jeffrey, watched the villagers return from behind a building forming the main plaza. He still didn't know what to make of the mage that arrived literally from nowhere.

Before people listened to him, like how they should deal with the Yellow Goblins. He had a perfect plan, it was still just wasn't fully formed yet.

Now they were listening to this outsider, building walls and ripping down the empty houses for wood.

He continued to observe those gathered around Anton. Why were they listening to this new fool? Sure, he could use some fancy magic that nearly killed himself, but he had no idea on how they did things here.

He still had some people that would listen to him.

“What do we do Jeff?”

Jeffrey turned to a young man and two women, a few of the people that still listened. He felt his face turn hot from anger. They cowered as he became furious.

That name was his trigger.

“I'm sorry Jeffrey. Please...don't....”

Jeffrey felt the rage dissipate. The young man was trying his best to hold back his arm. He realised that he had one hand around one of the woman's throat and fist raised to strike her.

She coughed as he released her.

“Don't ever call me that again.”

All three nodded.

That name reminded him that he could be associated with the brute that was Chief Bertram's son. It made him feel physically sick and wanted to kill whoever said it. Jeff was a dullard in his eyes while he was intelligent and sophisticated. Bertram often called them both Jeff, which was tolerable only due to his position.

He turned his attention back to the group. They were talking intently with each-other.

What lies is that mage spreading now?

A cheer was let out. Jeffrey tried his best to drown out the noise and focus on what was being said.

“And then boom!” A big man near the outside of the group close to Jeffrey was within hearing distance. A few others gathered around him, a tall man with a bow moved around the talking man allowing Jeffrey to hear better.

“He blew up all of them...and nearly us at the same time. Same when we were in the encampment. Still, could've been much worse.”

A few fireworks at best, if I had magic I would do so much better.

He saw Jeff move out of the group, a few following him. They gathered a few crates and took them back into the crowd. A few moments later he stood up upon the box, now a full height above the others.

“Okay. Anton's got me in-charge of trainin' you. We did alright today.”

The crowd grumbled, some jeered.

“If it weren't for him, we'd be dead.”

The crowd went silent.

“So, those that aren't just coming back, we're going for a run. And we ain't gonna stop until we're tired. Let's go!”

A few cheers rang out. They seemed highly motivated to Jeffrey, something that irked him.

The crowd dissipated quickly. Quite a number had gone with Jeff, they appeared quite enthusiastic.

“I want you two,” Jeffrey pointed to the women, “Follow Jeff and see what he's up to.”

“Okay.” The women were gushing after being given orders. He knew he had that sort of effect on women.

The young man remained.

Jeffrey looked at the separating group but he couldn't find Anton. He was usually quite easy to spot, being slightly taller than most people and having blond hair, rare in this village.

“Try and follow Anton, see what he's up to and who he's talking to.”

The young man nodded and ran off into the crowd.

Now then, let's see what you're really up to then.

Jeffrey couldn't help the smile on his face.

---[]---

Anton found the house near the edge of the village.

Several soldier villagers offered to come with him. Apparently, they didn't like the idea of their mage going unprotected. Anton managed to talk them down, assuring them he'd be fine.

He found the flowers at the front. They were old and desiccated but he could still see the blue in the petals.

The house was about the same size as the rest of the house, possibly slightly smaller. The ones around this one were badly burnt but this one was virtually destroyed. It barely had walls and the roof had collapsed. The few parts of the build that remained were charred and rotten.

Someone actually lives like this?

He walked through the remains of the front door. It still smelled of burnt wood. He could smell the mould and rot underneath it.

“Hello?” he asked tentatively.

There was a rustling underneath a burnt table in the far corner. He didn't notice but that corner of the house was probably in the best condition. There was a large cloth over the table that reached the floor.

It rose and Verona popped out. She had a look of confusion as she exited underneath the table. Her grin appearing when he realised it was Anton.

“Hey, what's up?”

She stood up, a little bit wobbly as she leant against the table for support. Her clothes were still the same as she worn at the quarry, dried blood still covering it.

He couldn't think of anything to say, foot twitching uncomfortably.

“You live here?”

Verona looked around dismissively.

“Where else would I live?”

“Well...”

Anton couldn't think of anything good to say.

“Has something happened?” she asked, grabbing her spear from underneath the table.

“No. No. Nothing just yet.”

Neither of them spoke but Anton didn't want to leave it at that.

Verona was about to speak when she started coughing violently. The attack carried on for several long seconds. When she finally finished her eyes were teary, she had almost fallen over and there was fresh blood on her hands.

“Jesus, you are really sick. How did you even manage to fight like that.”

“I'm fine,” she tried her best to wave him away but Anton wasn't listening. He guided her to what passed for a stool.

The prayer should have healed her...maybe it wasn't specific enough.

“You're really not.”

She sighed.

“No,” coughing again, “I'm really not.”

“It's amazing that you were able to fight so well before.”

She held her hand to her chest.

“I usually don't move so much. I guess it made things a lot worse.”

“I want to try another healing prayer. If that's alright with you?”

Verona nodded, followed by another cough.

He placed his right hand just below her neck. Since she was probably around twenty years old he didn't feel comfortable about groping her chest to test out his powers.

He said the prayer in his mind. The mana flowed as usual, but he directed the image to her chest and lungs. He could feel it working.

When he removed his hand, Verona coughed again. It no longer sounded hoarse and painful.

“Thank you. I feel much better.”

Anton smiled, which she returned.

“Well, I wanted to see how you were doing. To be honest I don't like the idea of leaving you here.”

He looked back over at the table that she emerged from, presuming that is her 'home' now.

“I'm not going to force you to do anything, but I can arrange something better for you. A dry and warm bed, decent food and water, and away from the weather.”

She didn't meet his eyes as he stood. Anton thought he did all he could and didn't feel like dragging her away.

“If you decide on something, you know that I'm in the main hall.”

He rose to leave and almost made it to the ruined door before he heard movement. Verona's backside stuck out of the table-cloth, clunks emanating as she wriggled around

A few seconds later she emerged with a small bag, tied at one end. It appeared to be all her possessions.

She held it underneath her arm and grabbed the spear with the other hand.

“Are you sure you brought everything?”

Verona nodded.

“I don't have that much left.”

She shook the bag, it sounded very light.

“I'll see what we can get arranged. We'll be all be having something to eat if you wish to join us?”

“Great. I haven't eaten well in days.”

Anton nodded and started to walk away, Verona quickly running up beside him.

As they exited the destroyed house, Verona stopped and looked back.

Anton stopped as well a few paces further on. He looked back.

Verona cast a lonely shadow on the remains of her house. Memories of the good and bad times must have been flooding through her mind, telling her to stay and go all at once. She lent down near the desiccated blue flowers and tried to pick one. It crumbled under her touch. She sighed again, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve.

She stood up, mumbling something that Anton couldn't make out, and walked next to him.

“Shall we go?” she asked. Her eyes were slightly red but she looked as if she didn't want to draw attention to it.

Anton nodded. As they walked away Verona looked back again but didn't stop.

---[]---

They walked in silence for nearly a minute before Verona asked something.

“I've been wondering, what is that thing on your right hand?”

Anton looked down at the crystal. He was surprised that others hadn't asked about it before.

“To be honest, I have no idea. I can't remember much.”

Verona shifted the spear and bag so they were being carried on the same side and used her free hand to grab his right. She held his hand, forcing Anton to stop. She picked at the crystal and felt the skin that had formed around it.

Anton thought about the crystal for the first time. The gods had said it would be useful, and the fact that one of them had to go and find it meant it was probably something very valuable and powerful. Yet, they didn't bother to tell him. He could only hope that it would be revealed later.

Her hand continued to pry at his. It was soft, softer than any woman's hand he had ever felt. He felt some embarrassment that she was innocently holding his hand.

Eventually, she let it go. There was a slight redness to her face, realizing what she had just been doing.

“I...I guess it must be a mage thing,” she said trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Bertram and Right Jeff say they knew a mage. They will probably know more.”

“Who's Right Jeff?”

“Oh, Bertram's son. I call him that because when I first woke up he and another Jeff were standing guard and he was on the right.”

“Ah...That other one is really strange.”

This will be a good chance.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, my parents they.....”

Verona trailed off for a moment, continuing to walk like a zombie with a blank expression. Anton lightly bumped her, bringing her back to reality.

“They always said not to hang around or even talk to him. Nobody from where we lived liked him. I think he's really strange. I don't like him. My dad even hit him once until he was bloody. They never told me why.”

“I'm probably strange to everyone here...”

“Nah, you're weird. But that's okay.”

He looked down at her. She was smiling like when he first met her. He tousled her hair, going faintly red as he did so.

They continued to walk in silence.

---[]---

A few minutes later they arrived back at the main plaza. Groups of villagers still congregated in the central plaza but Anton couldn't see anyone that was with him at the quarry. Hopefully, they were sleeping and Right Jeff was off giving everyone else a crash course in training. He was sure that was the right decision.

Later, I'll also need an inventory of weapons, like the bows and how many arrows. Better start getting people to make those too.

A few groups wanted Anton to talk to them and help them with issues with fortifying Atros. He told them that he would be there in a few minutes.

Bertram and Sybil were outside the main hall. They had grabbed a large table and were talking with some of the construction group.

“Anton, hello. And hello Verona.”

“Hi.” Verona did not have any enthusiasm in her voice.

“More planning?” Anton asked.

“Yes. We've got a more detailed layout of Atros,” Bertram pointed to the large piece of paper in front of him, “Having a discussion over where the wall should be built and how tall.”
“I don't think it needs to be very tall for now, so long as the house in front of the wall has been torn down. If the outside is smooth and they can't climb up, you could probably get away with building it up to head height, and just fight from the top.”

“I knew that was going to be the idea.” said one of the male construction workers.

Bertram sighed slightly.

“That was the general idea...and it definitely looks that way now.”

The construction group had already started talking amongst themselves, pointing and gesturing to the map.

“They just needed a little push, that's all.”

Bertram nodded.

“I really don't know that much about all this work.”

“Well, they look up to you.”

Bertram laughed.

“Maybe. Maybe they just like seeing a familiar face.”

Bertram and Sybil chuckled a little. Verona continued to look at Anton.

“Have we got any spare rooms?”

“We will have some in the main hall by the afternoon. There are rooms full of junk that are being removed.”

A man and woman pair emerged, carrying old and broken furniture and books.

“Are the books of any use?”

“So far most of them are things like ledgers but some appear to be useful. Those are being kept.”

“Right. I'll leave you to it then. Verona, you can leave your stuff in my room until it's cleared. I'll show you.”

Verona followed Anton inside. He didn't fail to miss the cold gaze towards Bertram and Sybil. Their smiles towards Anton appeared genuine but he could see some unease when talking about and to Verona.

This can't be good. Another problem in this little village.

---[]---

Bertram sighed in relief. Sybil placed her hand on his knee, rubbing it for comfort.

To him, she was a constant. Someone that always helped him see things through to the right end. Her unease made him feel it doubly so.

“Are you worried?” she asked.

“A little. This day could end very badly.”

“You're worried about Anton.”

He nodded.

“Verona seems enamoured with him already. You saw how she smiled as she approached...and...I don't know. I just don't have a good feeling for the rest of the day.”

“It'll be fine. Anton said that everything that happened in the past will stay there.”

Bertram still felt uneasy.

“But if it becomes personal...”

“There's nothing we can do now. Interfering will only make it worse.”

“Yes. Yes, you're right. We've got work to do.”

With a heavy grunt, they both stood up, ready to sort through the growing assortment of junk being brought out of all the houses.

---[]---

Verona followed Anton inside. She appeared confused when Anton removed his shoes. He caught a glimpse of her looking at her own dirty feet then over at Anton’s, which were still clean.

She almost gasped when she saw the inside of the room, nearly dropping her gear. She put them on the inside of the door and wandered around.

“I like it.”

“Your room will have the same stuff, hopefully.”

Verona helped herself to one of the chairs, stretching out like a cat.

“Ah, so good. How's the bed?”

Without asking she flopped onto the bed, creaking lightly under her weight.

“So much better than before.”

“What was before?”

She remained silent for a moment.

“Whatever I could find that was soft...”

He could see the pain and memories on her face.

Perhaps I shouldn't have asked that.

“Okay.” Anton picked up her gear and placed it on the table. “By the looks of things they'll have it cleaned out in a little bit, hopefully before nightfall. I need to go find the blacksmith of this village. Do you have anything planned?”

Anton waited but no response came. He turned towards the bed. Verona was asleep. Her whole body had gone limp, head resting on the pillow with her mouth slightly open. He could hear and see her breathing which made him feel a little more relaxed.

“Verona?” he asked quietly, but no answer.

He poked her on the arm a few times but got no response.

She must have barely been awake to fall asleep that fast. Can't leave her like this.

With the greatest amount of care, he pulled the covers from underneath her body, trying his best not to wake her. Afterwards, he pulled it over her tucked her into bed. She didn't wake, so Anton left as quietly as he could, hoping that this would be a nap rather than sleep.

As Anton left he pulled the door shut. These people didn't have locks but it didn't appear to be a problem. He wasn't entirely sure about the security of this village but didn't have an alternative.

Outside, Anton was sure he was being watched. He reasoned it was most likely Left Jeff and his crew, though he couldn't tell where they were watching from. It felt like one of his cronies rather than Left Jeff. He waited and watched but couldn't find the source. Figuring that there was nothing that he could do now, Anton went south towards the blacksmith.

---[]---

The blacksmith was in a state of disrepair, rather than the damage the rest of the village suffered from. It was almost four times the size of a standard house, with half was an open space. A large furnace sat cold in the centre, tools and equipment radiating out. Some appeared to have half-finished items in them, but the amount of dust present told him that it had been this way for some time.

“Hello?”

This was almost becoming a retinue for Anton; asking then entering.

There was no reply.

A small gust of wind blew, opening one of the doors into the closed off half of the building.

Anton walked through the tool area and peeked in. There was light coming through some wooden slots like those in his room, though this one was far dustier. It was relatively well kept but looked somewhat disorganised. Definitely a man's room.

He opened the door and knocked. There was a soft grunt but nothing else.

He walked further inside, taking careful and loud steps. In a corner of the building he saw a man, a large one like Zac. However, he was covered in blankets with his head resting on his chest. His breathing was shallow and hoarse, occasionally he would cough then return to his slumber.

“Are you okay?”

The man didn't answer but tired raise his head. That appeared to be a struggle. He opened his mouth to speak but his head dropped again.

Anton moved quickly towards him and gently grabbed his head. It was burning to the touch yet he didn't appear to be sweating. The majority of the blankets were focused around his feet. With a sense of trepidation, he removed enough blankets to have a look.

It was ghastly. The man's toes were green and the rest of his legs didn't look much better. Some parts of his toes appeared to have fallen off. Near each foot, there were clear signs that he had been wounded some time ago but hadn't healed properly. Now they looked gangrenous.

Didn't really want to 'stress test' this but looks like this is it.

Anton had no idea if gangrene was contagious but didn't want to take the chance. He placed his left hand on the man's exposed arm.

“Tethra, God of Prayer, cure this man of his blight.”

Nearly all his mana flew out in an instant, causing him to lose his balance and stumbling backwards. Despite not being in physical contact he felt the mana return and could feel it pushing the disease 'out' and into nothingness.

His head was ringing, eyes couldn't focus and had no idea what was up or down, but the man was healed, hopefully. For a moment he lay on the floor until he got enough mana back to move properly. It didn't take long, the mana returning more quickly each time he used it.

The man groaned as he woke, though it was clearly a good noise.

Anton studied the man in greater detail. He was large and muscular. His hands had clearly seen hard work and so had the rest of him like he expected a blacksmith to have. His beard was the same brown that a lot of people in the village had.

To Anton, he looked like another dependable villager. Anton didn't have the best memory when it came to faces but he was sure that he hadn't seen this man before.

“Who...Who are you?”

His voice was loud but calm.

“I'm Anton. How long have you been like that? If it's been a while you probably wouldn't have heard of me.”

“A couple of weeks I've been stuck in this chair, relying on my children to get what I need.”

“You have kids?”

“Yes,” his face turned solemn, “A little girl and boy. My wife died early when those monsters started attacking. Are they still coming? How bad is it?”

Anton explained as best he could the situation around Atros and how he felt things were going. He could tell that the man took his story with some scepticism.

“If that's true, then I've got lots of work to do,” He tried to stand but his legs shook under the weight, “Maybe when I can stand.”

“I'm hoping to get a communal dinner and lunch organised to happen every day. You should come, don't think you've been able to eat much.”

“No. My name is Jonathan, by the way.”

“Pleasure.”

Anton shook his hand. It was very rough to the touch.

“How good a blacksmith are you?”

“I believe I'm pretty good. There used to be a couple of us. Everyone used to come only to me for their really important stuff, now I'm the only one left.”

Anton was about to continue the line of inquiry when the door opened again. Two small children were there, both carrying baskets full of flowers and what looked to be like herbs. They wore a smaller version of the villagers clothing, though it appeared to be relatively unkempt.

“Daddy!” they both yelled, running past Anton but giving him a wide berth.

They clambered up his legs and hugged his chest, both pushing for room. Jonathan used both arms to give them a hug in return.

Anton couldn't tell them apart easily; they both had short dark brown hair and their faces were both boyish.

“How...?” one of the children asked. It had a young boys tone.

Jonathan freed one of his hands and pointed at Anton. Both had looks of disbelief in their faces.

The girlish one pointed at Anton.

“You're the new person. The one that makes things go bang.”

Anton nodded. At least it would help Jonathan believe his story.

“Thank you. I've got a lot to catch up on, especially time with my kids. This is my daughter Jocelyn and my son Shawn.”

Both children waved to Anton. Though they remained in their father's arms.

“When you're able to stand, come to the main plaza. We'll get a list of things that we need to be done.”

Jonathan nodded.

“I'll be right there. I just want a moment with my children.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

Anton went to leave when he felt a lump collide with his leg. It was quite small. He looked down to see the boy, Shawn, hugging his leg. He looked up towards Anton with watery eyes.

“Thank you for saving our dad.”

“It was no problem.”

Shawn let go of Anton's leg. He left feeling that things were starting to get better.

---[]---

When Anton arrived back at the main plaza, after being waylaid by numerous villages who wanted his advice on their part of the effort, he was surprised by the number of villagers there. Most were sweating profusely and sitting on the ground, panting for breath. Right Jeff was standing at the front of the group, not looking to good himself.

As Anton was about to approach him he heard a rumbling in the near distance. He turned and saw Zac leading a procession of carts laden with stone. Each cart had rocks spilling over the top and was still able to be pulled at a reasonable speed by a single Ix. Anton marvelled slightly at the strength of such beasts.

He was also surprised to see Zac so soon. The day must have gone faster than he thought or the Ix were able to move at tremendous speed if they needed to.

The sun was already quite low in the distance. After another hour it would be dark.

Zac waved Anton over.

“Looks like you got quite a good haul there.”

“Yep. Don't really want to know what happened over there...what with the craters and burnt out huts, but I can presume it wasn't fun.”

“It got the blood running for a minute, that's for sure. It took us a while to get there, how were you able to get back so fast?”

Zac patted the Ix beast. It grunted and appeared to like the affection.

“These things can move very quickly. First time they've been on a run in some time, so I think they enjoyed it.”

Zac continued to lead the carts into the plaza area. Anton followed.

Right Jeff's tired villagers shuffled out of the way.

“Are you going to start the wall soon?” Anton asked.

Zac inspected the stone. He picked up a small piece and tossed it in the air.

“We're going to need a lot, a lot more, to get it in a decent state. We'll get it started sometime tomorrow.”

“How many trips can you do a day?”

“If we don't tire the workers or the beasts we can do four a day with no issue. Can't tell you how long until the wall is in a usable state. Should be a few more days and the houses on the north side will be all down.”

Anton looked at the pile of wood that used to be houses. It was of considerable size now. Occasionally a group of villager would arrive and drop some more off.

“Keep up the good work.”

Anton let Zac carry on with his work offloading the carts. He found Bertram, Sybil and Right Jeff, who had loudly dismissed the tired villagers telling them to get some much-needed rest, sitting at the large table outside the main hall. He approached and all three greeted him.

“How goes things here?” Anton asked.

“Still going through the books,” Bertram replied, “Not much use, but you may make more sense of it.”

“I still need to learn how to read first. Jonathan, the blacksmith, is better now. He was suffering from some very bad looking rot on his legs. I hope there aren't any others like that scattered throughout the homes?”

All three looked shocked at hearing the Jonathan was sick.

“Stubborn fool. He wouldn't have told us if he was sick anyway,” Sybil said, “Doesn't like to worry others. We had no idea that there was a problem.”

“Well, he's fixed now. I've told him to come to dinner later. What's on the menu tonight?”

“Ah, just the usual things. Not much variety here to be honest.”

Anton nodded. The food here, while simple, appeared to be very good.

“We've got a little bit of time before it gets dark. I'm going to head over south and practice my magic. Unless there's something else, I'll see you all at dinner.”

“Nah. Nothin' wrong with the villagers. Seems a lot stronger already. Tomorrow we'll get 'em learning proper orders and things. Don't want my Sam to be runnin' off again.”

Anton and Right Jeff chuckled slightly. He left for the training patch.

---[]---

Jeffrey had been wandering around the village since he sent his trio of followers off to spy on Anton's activities. He had others watching other parts of the village but they had seen nothing odd.

The women had returned but found nothing too odd. He was waiting for the young man to return and had been for some time now. It was odd for people to be late when it concerned him.

He was waiting where he first sent his followers out, hoping that he would have sight of the young man. Eventually, he worked his way through the villagers offloading stone and made it to him.

“Has he been up to anything?”

“Not that I could find out,” replied the young man, “He's got people training for exercise and tomorrow they're going to be doing it again.”

Jeffrey was already starting to become irritated.

Does he think me an idiot? I could see them training.

With a sigh of exasperation, he motioned for the young man to continue.

“He also went over Jonathan's blacksmith, and now he seems okay. I saw him and his children coming up here. Apparently they'll be joining the communal dinner they hold at the table Anton sits at.”

“That's not surprising. I wonder what sweet lie Anton whispered in his ear to get him to come out. Still, at least it gives us a rough idea of what he's doing.”

Jeffrey turned to leave but the young man wasn't finished.

“Oh, he's also taken that silver girl, what was her name...Verona, under his care.”

Jeffrey stopped in his tracks, turning and staring at the young man.

“What?”

His voice turned cold and hoarse, something hot burning within his gut. He walked back to the young man and squeezed down hard on his shoulders, the young man wincing in pain.

“Tell me exactly what you saw. Don't leave anything out.”

Chapter 006 - Vol 1

Chapter 006:

Anton found the training area to be quite relaxing. Several meters away lay the crater that he left when he first experimented. It was a good reminder to always be careful when dealing with something so deadly.

He looked towards the sun. In this world, the sun rose in the west and set in the east. That was slightly jarring for Anton when he was trying to get his bearings but, like everything here, he got used to it very quickly.

He sat down in the centre of the dirt patch and stopped to think.

I think I've got the prayer power down pat, not that there has been much in the way of instructions given by those gods. I wonder if there are any books in that stack? Anyway, lightning I'm pretty confident with; very fast and powerful, but unstable and difficult to control. It's about time I tried out the fire glyph properly. It felt so slow compared to the lightning. But it felt like that it would go on for hours, constantly burning. I wonder what shape I should use?

But nothing came to mind that seemed sensible. His thoughts continued to circle pointlessly.

A whip? Probably burn people around me as I try to swing it. A sword? Well, why not just use a ball again.

Looks like that'll be the case for now.

Forming the image of a small but bundled ball of fire in his mind, he fed mana to his hands.

The fire burst into life from nothingness. It felt completely different from the lightning. Whereas the lightning power felt volatile, constantly trying to erupt and escape, the fire was far more subdued, calm even. There was a slow but constant throbbing coming from the fireball.

Anton knew that the fire should have been hot yet, just like at the quarry, he couldn't feel the heat. His clothes did not appear to be suffering either.

He tried to move it by pushing on it with his mana. Instead of darting around it felt and moved considerably slower, feeling as if he was pushing it. This gave him an idea.

With all his might, he threw the fireball as far and as fast as he could, using his hands to help guide the motion. It soared through the air like a tiny shooting star. It overtook the blast site and continued travelling, eventually landing near the body dump site, a small burst of flame erupted followed by the crackling sound of burning grass. Through the mana connection, he felt the fireball burst rather than explode.

That's a bit over a hundred meters away...

Just to check, Anton formed a lightning ball and pushed that as hard as he could. This one travelled slightly further than the blast site but exploded soon after.

Probably only thirty to forty meters. Well, I know what will be good for long range fighting then.

Things were continuing to bug him regarding magic. When he first arrived he used a colossus amount of mana and fried over half the main plaza. That space had to be almost fifty or more meters yet the lightning didn't dissipate.

Was it the type? It was just a barrage of lightning, rather than anything more sophisticated like the bombs that I've been using. There must be a more efficient form, I just haven't found it yet. There must be. I wonder if those books form that mage has been found yet.

Focusing back on his training, he formed an image of lightning in his head. This time he let it be just a flickering single bolt that would travel as far as he could. He gathered the mana as best he could. It felt far more difficult to get it right this time. It grew until he released it through his hands.

A single bolt flew forth away from the village with a crackle, darting and weaving through the air at near random angles. It flickered out of existence a few moments later. He couldn't feed mana fast enough. Anton guessed that it must have travelled for almost a hundred meters before fizzling out.

To compare, he formed a stream of fire. This stream was difficult to sustain and only travelled a few meters. He pointed it toward the ground, the grass burning and the ground blackening instantly. Unlike the lightning, he could feed it fast enough, though it was quickly depleting his reserves. He stopped the flow and surveyed the latest area of destruction.

None of this makes any real sense. Both seem to follow different rules. Using the bombs follows different rules to the bolts and flames...There must be some logic to all this madness. I get the feeling that the bombs are not the standard way, at least the lightning one.

There was the other issue. The fire that he made with the fire glyph didn't burn him yet it clearly affected those around him, while the lightning blasts affected everyone including himself.

Perhaps it's that the fire is still part of my own magic, while the wind lasts from the collapsing bombs is not. Further evidence that the bombs are not normal. I really need those magic books, I really need to learn how to read here. Then, I hope, I'll start to find out more about this world.

Anton felt satisfied, perhaps with a hint of resignation, with his limited information leading to his conclusions. Not wanting to set fire to the countryside or blow himself to pieces, he spent the rest of the time trying to feel out the flow through the prayer glyph as well as how the most minuscule amount of mana felt and flowed. It was getting easier each time.

Time flew by, the sun setting reminding him to return to the main plaza for dinner.

---[]---

When Anton arrived back at the main plaza he was glad to see it as a hive of activity. Villagers were bustling around, carrying plates full of food and drink. It appeared to be a celebration for their successful return.

What made him even happier was seeing everyone he knew at the large table, an empty seat reserved for him. Verona had taken the seat to the right and was chatting with Right Jeff across the table, Sam next to him. Sybil had chosen to sit next to Verona while Bertram sat another seat down. On either side past them sat Jonathan and his two children. Beyond that, there were some happily chatting and laughing villagers.

Anton could see Zac at another table drinking something and laughing merrily. Alcohol, judging by the way he carried himself. He decided not to get involved with that just yet and took his seat.

Verona smiled as she usually did when she realised that he was back.

“How'd it go?” she asked.

“Getting better at it, I think. Give me a couple of weeks and I should be pretty good at it.”

Verona nodded and turned her attention back to the food in front of her, eyes hungry.

The food was the same as it usually was, but that didn't concern him. There were more important things on his mind, things that would help decide the fate of the village and his life.

Anton remained relatively silent throughout the meal, only speaking when necessary. His mind was still far away. He wasn't even aware that someone wanted him to join into a conversation until he was jabbed in the side by Verona.

“Sorry,” he began, “My mind was somewhere else.”

Jonathan was the one that wanted to talk to Anton it turned out.

“I've just been talking with the others here about what needs to be done; weapons, armour and the like. I was just wondering if you knew anything extra that needed to be done.”

Anton thought for a moment. Verona moved out the corner of his eyes, her silver hair shining with the flickering light of the fires.

“Just an extra spear for Verona. I'm sure that you can get things done better without me interfering at every stage.”

Verona looked quite annoyed. She jabbed Anton in the side again.

“I'm fine with the one that I've got.”

Anton chuckled.

“You practically, well you did, take it from a dead Rock-Rat. Besides, I'm sure that Jonathan can make a better one.”

Jonathan nodded, confirming Anton's thoughts.

She continued to look annoyed for a few more seconds. He swore she puffed her cheeks slightly. Eventually, she relented and returned to her food.

“Fine,” she pointed at Jonathan, a lump of bread in her hand, “But make sure it's a good one. I broke the last one.”

“How did you manage that?” Jonathan asked. His children looked at Verona in awe.

“A story for another time,” Anton replied. “Apart from that, I think that everything is going rather well, for our second day.”

The others at the table nodded in agreement.

“But, I don't think we can rest just yet. Eventually, we're going to need to attack the Yellow Goblins at their source. Judging from the maps, it seems that we don't have a clear picture of the area.”

“So?” asked Right Jeff.

“It's always important to know the lay of the land. Wars have been won or lost over the understanding of the terrain.”

“You're getting so memories back then?” Bertram asked.

Anton paused for a second.

Damn. No, wait. This may be a good thing.

“Maybe. I'm not quite sure. I just know that's a thing.”

He cleared his throat and continued.

“So, we need some people that can draw out the surrounding area really well. Also, getting the job done fast will help. We'll need to keep an eye on the mountain for any signs of movement. So far we've been lucky, but if I were them I would send some scouts here, and soon. What do we have in the way of fast rideable animals?”

“We have the horses.” Sam and Sybil answered at the same time. They looked and smiled at each other. Evidently, they were friends.

Horses and giant reptile cows...

“How many?”

“Ten at last count. We did our best to keep the animals safe, but we couldn't protect them all sadly.”

“Ten should be more than sufficient. After dinner is finished and everyone's ready to go, we'll get the people we need to gather here.”

With the plan in motion and nothing else raised, they finished their meals in peace.

---[]---

Jeffrey paced, his leather shoes thumping on the wooden floor of his house. His was situated on the South-East of Atros, so it still was in good condition. He had inherited after his parents died relatively young, more than long enough to teach him how special and important his was.

The underling who brought the news was there as well. Jeffrey didn't care to remember his name, especially not now.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Jeffrey realised at that moment how this could look to his followers. He stopped his pacing and took a deep breath.

“It...It's just that he's got his fangs into another person, someone so young.”

The young man didn't look entirely convinced. Jeffrey couldn't convince himself that this was what he really thought.

How dare he! After everything I've done, for the village, for everyone, she turns her back on me. For who? This new prick? I was there for her when her parents died, and I get this in return. I have to do something...the thought that she's even talking to that man makes me sick. But what to do?

Jeffrey began pacing, now with purpose in his stride.

It's all because of that stupid mage. He needs to go, though I’m not stupid enough to go against him myself. Maybe....maybe one of those idiot women could do it? Promise them the world, then after the deed, throw her to his friends to be torn apart. Then I come in...that could work.

He laughed out loud, his plan finally starting to take shape. The young man continued to look on, face changing to regret and apprehension like he was thinking that he had chosen the wrong side.

Jeffrey walked to the window. The fire from the communal dinner could easily be seen through the wooden slats.

“Someday, Mage. Someday soon.”

---[]---

The dinner finished and Anton was feeling quite full. He got Right Jeff to gather enough villagers that could ride and those that said they could accurately enough. Those that could draw returned with scraps of paper and charcoal. He told them to pair off. As they mingled through the dissipating crowd, Anton turned his attention back to preparing the village for war.

“Does anyone here know how many bows and arrows we have in this village?”

No-one answered though Right Jeff started counting with his fingers.

“From what' I remember, should be about twenty or so. Lots more arrows, there should be.”

“Can you make more, Jonathan?”

“I'm no good with wood. And all the people that were any good...well, I think they're dead.”

Anton pursed his lips, annoyed. Though he knew there was nothing more he could do.

“Bertram, see about getting everyone who has arrows to get them to put in some central storeroom, where people can get to them if they need to. Also, Jeff, see about getting the people with bows to start training. That Bowman that was at the quarry would probably make a good leader for them.”

“Right, on it.”

The riders and the drawers were standing behind Anton, waiting for his conversation to finish. He turned and looked at them, surprised that ten people showed up.

The others, barring Verona, had left the table to continue with their responsibilities. She continued to play with what remained with her food, seemingly content to wait.

Anton began explaining what he wanted of them. He procured the rough map of the area around Atros. All leaned in for a closer look.

“Basically, I want each rider to team up with a drawer and head in one of these five directions.”

Anton drew, with his finger, five lines of equal distance apart with one heading straight for the mountain to the north.

“This is just reconnaissance, not combat. So whoever heads north, keep your wits about you and don't get spotted.”

“Right.” replied one of the riders. He didn't look as brave as he did a moment ago.

“That applies to all of you. We don't know what lies just outside the relative safety of the village. I want you to draw the terrain as best you can, noting the terrain and anything of interest. Alright, get some rest. You'll be departing at sunrise and hopefully returning before midday.”

They quickly left, hopefully, to actually get some rest rather than joining the increasingly large and rowdy drinking contest that Zac appeared to have started. Anton was just starting to feel tired and didn't feel ready to get wasted just yet.

“I think it's best that we turn in ourselves. Verona, I think your room will be ready by now.”

Verona was about to answer when she was cut off by a loud shout from Zac.
“Hey, Anton!”

“Yeah?”

“Come over here.”

Anton stood up, with a sigh of exasperation. They were probably going to ask him to join them.

“Ah, Verona, You go on ahead. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Verona gave Anton a slight wave then walked quickly towards the main hall.

He approached the drunken group. Zac made room for Anton.

There were many small barrels on the table, some appeared to be covered in some liquid. Everything and everyone reeked of alcohol. Anton was sure this was their version of moonshine.

Zac grabbed a wooden mug and poured out the liquid, passing it to Anton.

Anton felt some trepidation about drinking the fluid. Zac and the other villagers were watching with anticipation, he knew they wouldn't relent until he drunk some.

It burned the moment it touched his tongue. He forced himself to swallow, coughing as the burning after-taste came back up. The villagers laughed and returned to their drinking.

“God, what's in that?” Anton asked, while still trying to get his coughing under control.

“Just a bit of my own personal brew. I was thinking, if it was going to be my last night, that I'd drown myself and wouldn't care.”

“Please tell me you had a change of heart?”

Zac laughed, Anton, noticing that his hairy face was becoming redder as he continued to drink.

“I have every confidence in you boy.” Zac put his arm around Anton and shook him. It appeared that he became quite friendly when he was drunk.

“I thought that it would be a great time to celebrate, with everything starting to look better. Besides, drinking by yourself can get quite depressing.”

Zac removed his arm from Anton, motioning for Anton to take another drink.

Anton took another sip, the burning sensation already numbed by the alcohol. He wasn't much of a drinker back on Earth but he occasionally enjoyed some, but nothing with this amount of alcohol.

There was a slight buzzing in his head already. He knew that he definitely shouldn't get into a drinking contest on this drink.

“So, come on. Just a few more.”

The alcohol was already starting to get to him a little bit.

“Well, maybe just one more.”

Zac and the other villagers let out a loud cheer, passing another mug to Anton.

---[]---

After six more drinks, Anton was finally able to tear himself away from the drinking villagers. He knew he was clearly drunk, walking in a straight line took considerable effort. The level of intoxication had muddled his thinking, so much that he didn't think to try and use the prayer glyph to get sober.

Armed villagers were undergoing their patrols. Even some construction work was still being carried out despite only the moonlight and dim torches illuminating their way.

He stumbled into the main hall, throwing off his shoes as best he could. He realised that he didn't know which room was Verona's. Hopefully, Bertram or Sybil had told her where it was.

When he opened the door to his room he knew something was wrong.

His bed should have been flat but there was a lump on the right side. In the moonlight, he could see a silvery head sticking out of the fur covers. The covers rose and fell in a slow rhythm.

Verona was sleeping in his bed.

She looked quite calm, mouth slightly agape.

He was too tired and drunk to cause a fuss. He also didn't want to wake her, he just wanted to sleep.

Instead, he took the far left side of the bed. He knew that he apparently moved about when he slept. Tonight he hoped he didn't.

Sleep quickly overtook him, the alcohol helping him drift off into the dreamland. Just before it overtook him he thought he heard movement, but it was too late to react.

---[]---

Anton awoke to the early morning rays in his eyes. He was lying in the middle of the bed. There was a slight numbness to his right upper arm as well.

He touched the space of the bed just to his right. It was warm, though it was cooling rapidly.

Crack. Anton heard the sound of stone on wood.

Verona was practising with her stolen spear, slashing and stabbing in silence. Sometimes she struck the floor, wincing every time she did it. Occasionally she would stop and repeat a move multiple times without any force and then continued practising

He watched in silence for a moment, impressed that she would be training this early. There was a grace to her movement that was captivating.

However, he knew he couldn't remain silent forever. If Verona knew that he sat there in silence watching her, she would probably find that quite disturbing.

“Ahem.”

Verona jumped as if someone had just poured ice cold water down her back, dropping the spear.

“Hey,” she replied nervously, “How....how long have you been awake?”

He felt that he shouldn't tell the truth.

“I've only just woken up. Speaking of which...”

Anton looked over at the right side of the bed. It had clearly been slept in, despite an attempt to cover that fact up.

“I...er...well...you see....”

Verona was trying wildly to try and explain herself, her hands running through her hair as she tried to think of something. Her face was starting to turn crimson.

This is getting embarrassing...

“Verona?”

“Yes?!”

She regained her composure, almost.

“Take a deep breath first.”

She did as she was told, looking much calmer afterwards.

“Okay. After you told me to go to bed I came in but didn't know which one was meant to be mine. There's a few in here...and you were busy drinking. And I was really tired, so I went to the place I knew was safe...so...”

She trailed off near the end, looking straight at her feet.

Anton really didn't blame her. Not only did he not make sure that there was space, he basically left her alone. Still, it wasn't entirely bad to have someone sleep next to him.

“Well, to be honest, I should have made sure that everything was alright with you before going drinking.”

“So, you're not mad?”

Anton shook his head.

“Not really. Just was a little surprised is all. How's your training going?”

She looked down at her spear.

“I'm trying to figure out how to use it properly. I'm trying different ways to fight with it.”

“If you put the same amount of effort you did into getting the spear to twirl when I first met you, I'm sure you'll do fine.”

Verona scratched the back of her head, faintly flushing.

“Well, show me what you can do.”

Anton threw off the covers and got out of bed.

“Um...”

Verona pointed with one hand and averted her face, still peeking from the corner of her eyes.

He felt a sense of dread welling up inside of him, fearing that during his drunken sleep he had managed to remove all his clothes, especially his pants.

A wave of relief came after looking down, he was still wearing his villager pants. And there was nothing wrong with them.

The air felt cool on his chest; he had managed to take his shirt off during his drunken sleep. His upper body looked considerably better than he remembered, more defined perhaps.

I did use a lot of all three glyphs...perhaps the prayer glyph did this. I hope I don't become one of those people that has trouble turning. Tethra, if you can hear this, don't make me like some muscle mass with a head...please.

Verona continued to stare out the corner of her eyes as Anton tried to make sense of his change.

Eventually, she coughed again, bringing him back to his senses.

He found his villager shirt chucked onto the floor and threw it on as quickly as he could.

It was still itchy on his skin, though it was hardly flattering. The shirt did not so much as hang but more puffed and buckled at odd angles, made from whatever materials the villagers could spare.

Verona's clothes looked the same as his, he couldn't tell what she looked like underneath. His mind had wandered there before. She said she was of age.

Keep yourself focused.

He didn't dare ask, especially not right now.

She had calmed down now that Anton was fully clothed.

He gestured for her to continue practising, seemingly grateful that she could focus on something else.

She wielded the spear as if it were a sword, slashing back and forth rather than stabbing and retracting.

“Verona?”

“Yes?”

“Your spear is meant for stabbing, not slashing. Try stabbing and retracting. I'm pretty sure that it's not meant to be used as a sword. If it breaks you'll be in real trouble.”

“...right.”

Verona adjusted her stance and movements, quickly becoming more proficient. After a few minutes, she looked quite comfortable attacking with a spear.

“Though, I believe that there is no better teacher than experience,” Anton added after watching her improve in a few minutes.

“Have you used a weapon before?” Verona asked, stopping her practice, placing the but of her spear on the floor.

“Well, not that I remember.”

Though that's not exactly true.

“Besides, I think I'll be better used figuring out how to use my magic. Once we get you and everyone better weapons, we'll get everyone learning things like formations.”

Verona cocked her head slightly.

“You know quite a lot about fighting.”

Anton shrugged, remaining silent. Verona took this that the conversation wouldn't continue. She continued to practice while Anton watched.

Nearly half an hour passed before Verona's practice session was interrupted by her growling stomach.

Well, it probably has been more than long enough. Hope she doesn't think me watching her is too weird. Speaking of which, these last two days I've gone without breakfast. I've seen them eating different things then what we have for lunch and dinner.

“I think that'll do for now Verona. What do people usually have...for...breakfast. You, know, the first meal of the day.”

“I dunno. Usually, what's left over from the previous day. Bits of meat are my favourite.”

She started licking her lips, eyes looking far away into the distance.

That was another question Anton probably didn't want to know. He knew that the Ix could, but usually, weren't eaten, so where was the meat coming from? Hopefully not from the dead. That quick mental image made him queasy.

Verona leaned her spear against the wall and headed outside, not waiting for Anton. He followed after realising that he had been left alone.

---[]---

Outside, work had begun.

Interestingly, a large pit had been dug in the centre of the plaza. There was a fire raging in the pit and a large number of villagers crowded around it.

Anton could smell cooking meat. It smelled something similar to pork yet there was an undercurrent of beef.

Verona was already at the back of the crowd, her silver hair trying to push through the villagers.

The group parted slightly as they saw Anton approach. Verona used this chance to dive through to the front.

The meat looked like three pigs on a wooden spit over the fire He hadn't seen similar creatures from the village. It was a mystery as to where they came from.

“What are those?” Anton asked.

One of the villagers turned to him.

“Razor pigs, they roam the area. Bit tricky to catch but well worth it. Didn't you see one on the way to the quarry?”

To be honest, the thought of having to fight was the most pressing thing on my mind. I may have seen some things scampering away...those were probably them.

“I really wasn't paying attention. When did you do this?”

“Sun up.” the villager replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, tell us when it's ready. I'm going to have a look around at the construction work.”

The villagers nodded and waved in acknowledgement, their attention quickly returning to the cooking animal.

As he walked away he heard the familiar footsteps. Verona had managed to pull herself away.

“So...what are you doing?” her eyes flickered between him and the fire.

“Going to have a look around where the wall will be built. Most of the stone has gone already. I would like to see how it's going.”

Verona looked as if she wanted to come along but hesitated.

“I'm sure they can save you a piece.”

“Alright, I'll come with ya'.”

He hadn't really noticed before, but sometimes Verona dropped into some sort of slang. It wasn't as impenetrable as Right Jeff's was.

As they started to walk away towards the north, he was stopped when his name was called out.

He turned around and found Shawn and Jocelyn running up to him, carrying a spear between them. They ran straight up towards Anton.

“Our dad told us to bring this to you straight away,” Jocelyn said with a soft melodious voice.

“He spent a lot of time on this one. He didn't sleep until really late. Said it's the best one he's made in a long time” Shawn added.

They handed Anton the spear.

It looked simple but very well built; the shaft was a hard, almost chocolate coloured straight wood. The tip was a metal, probably iron. It was incredibly sharp, as he could feel as he ran his finger over it. It was a very high-quality weapon.

The children looked expectantly at Anton, brimming with joy when he nodded with approval.

He handed it to Verona. She too had a look of awe as she held it. After twirling it around her hand a few times she slung it over her shoulder, quite proud of how she looked. She almost did look like a soldier, now it was just a case of getting some armour and training to match.

“Tell your father that he does exceptional work. I'll be around soon to see how he's going.”

“Okay!” both children said, Shawn overpowering Jocelyn's voice.

They scampered off towards the south, running and giggling as they ran.

Anton turned his attention back to Verona.

“Are you going to get rid of your trophy now?”

Verona held the spear in front of her, continuing her inspection.

“Probably. This is far better than both of them. Can't wait to try it out on those goblin fucks.”

Anton was still surprised at the language and venom Verona directed towards the Yellow Goblins. Though they probably killed her parents, so it wasn't completely incomprehensible. He just hoped that it would end after their deaths.

“Well, I'm going over north now to check on the wall. You coming?”

Verona nodded, walking in line with Anton.

Chapter 007 - Vol 1

Chapter 007:

Anton and Verona were nearing the north side of Atros. Anton was somewhat disappointed that there was no-one from Left Jeff's cronies had decided to follow them. It was getting to the stage where he would like to have just grabbed one and gotten out from them exactly what they wanted.

Still, the peace was nice. Verona was walking beside him with a new-found level of enthusiasm, humming something. It didn't seem like a song but it was light and sweet, something far more pleasant to Anton than the shouting and constant movement of the villagers.

They passed the last intact building and saw the wall for the first time. To be honest, Anton thought it was quite good for the village.

The wall was crudely assembled from rocks of all sizes. The largest rocks had been smashed to form roughly square blocks for the base with smaller rocks and shards forming the rest of the wall. The parts that he could see were at least up to half a meter while some parts were almost up to his shoulders. Reclaimed pieces of wood formed supports for the wall as well as steps and tops of the wall.

It appeared that the north side of the wall was the most complete, decreasing in size as it began to flow around the village. Hopefully, this was to deal with the likely direction of attack.

Almost all the stone was gone, at least judging by the stacks near the wall. With almost a thousand people and nearly a dozen huge carts and massive beasts, it shouldn't take long to build up an impressive wall.

Despite being early in the morning everyone was working hard. Anton could see Zac near one of the stacks, pointing and directing the swarming villagers.

“How's this going?” Anton asked as they both approached.

“Pretty good,” Zac replied, “Almost out of stone, as you can see. The wall is almost complete here in the north, the rest is barely there. Still pretty good for our first day of building.”

Anton nodded in approval.

“We're about to go and get our first shipment for the day too, just in case you thought that this would be it.”

“I didn't doubt you. How high are you planning to make it?”

“Above head height to start with. Then, if we're still alive, wide enough to properly stand on. At the moment it's just a few spots.”

“Excellent. We need to get everything done as quickly as possible.”

“You think that they're going to attack soon?”

Zac looked quite concerned and crossed his arms defensively.

“It's what I would do.”

Verona and Zac traded glances as Anton walked over to inspect the wall.

It appeared to be quite sturdy as Anton gave a wooden support a shove with his foot. Hopefully strong enough to hold up to the Yellow Goblins, at least for a little while.

“What'cha doing?” Verona asked, leaning over. Her slang was quite cute at times.

“Just testing that this is strong enough. Don't want them knocking it over. Also going to want some stands for archers. If we can kill some before they reach the wall the better.”

Verona nodded. “I see. That means that I can still fight, right?”

Anton tussled her hair. “I think if we left it to you, you would charge out there by yourself and kill all of them.”

Verona remained silent, eyes downcast. Anton kept his hand lightly on her head.

“You...You don't think I'm...wrong, do you?” She looked up at him, fear in her eyes.

“No. No, I don't. I think that you're a very brave person.”

“Thanks.” Verona chuckled as she gently removed his hand, retaining contact for slightly longer than necessary.

“I just...it doesn't matter.”

“Well, it probably does. If you do want to talk, you can always talk to me.”

She didn't reply but simply smiled.

“Um, you two?”

Zac called out to them. Anton noticed that several of the villagers had stopped to watch them.

“I hate to say this, but you're distracting the workers.”

Verona looked around, finally noticing everyone staring at them. She tried her best to remain calm but he could see her faintly turning red.

“Well, perhaps we should leave them to it. Zac?”

Zac perked up at hearing his name.

“Could we get a dozen or so wooden stands? So the archers can shoot over the wall properly.”

“Got it,” Zac replied.

The other villagers quickly returned to their work. Anton knew he could hear sniggers amongst them but chose to ignore them.

“So,” Verona started talking again after recovering from her flush, “What else are we doing today?”

“Actually, I wanted to speak to the recon group heading north before they leave. Hopefully, they haven't yet.”

“No-one's come through here yet.” One of the villagers yelled back at Anton.

“Thanks.” Anton looked towards the centre of the village. “Ah, I think I can hear them coming now.”

In the distance, towards the village centre, he could hear what could be only described as horses' hooves clopping over the mix of stone and dirt of the roads.

The horse looked exactly the same as the ones back on earth, perhaps a little bigger. A female rider at the reigns with a nervous looking man sitting behind her stopped when the came alongside Anton.

“We're just about ready to depart,” the woman rider said in a curt tone, “Get in there, take a quick look around and get back. Shouldn't be too hard.”

“Yes.” Anton was a bit stumped by her attitude. “What I really wanted to stop you for is that the north group, you two, must not get spotted under any circumstances. If they suspect that we are more organised than we have been in the past, they'll attack with everything they have. At the least, they'll try a lot harder.”

Anton looked over the wall to the north. The mountain looked rather beautiful with the morning rays upon it. What was important was that he couldn't see the base.

“Okay, it looks like there is at least one ridge between here and there. Just make it to that ridge then come back.”

“I know what I'm doing.” The woman replied. The man behind continued to look nervous.

“Well, I won't keep you then. Good luck to both of you.”

Both of them gave a nod before departing towards the mountain.

Zac walked towards Anton.

“I really hope that this a good idea,” Anton told Zac, “If it goes wrong...well, it's best if we keep working.”

“True. So...if you two are going to keep causing distractions, can you do it somewhere else?”

Anton couldn't help but frown.“You were much friendlier when you were drinking, you know that?”

“You couldn't handle that much.”

“I don't think that stuff was meant for human consumption. You were still drinking when I left, how are you still alive? ”

“Ha, and I thought you had no sense of humour. Don't you worry, I'll get you to a respectable level.”

Both started laughing. It was good to have a drinking buddy, but Anton didn't want one that would kill him.

“Well, I think I should be off. Need to see Right Jeff about getting archers together and Jonathan with the weapons.”

“Good luck. You know his name is Jeff, right?”

“Oh. Well, that's good to know. So what's the other one's name, the creepy one?”

“Jeffery.”

“Hmm...They just had to have similar sounding names, despite being so different. People at least won't be worrying about figuring out who I'm talking to.”

Zac nodded and looked towards some villagers carrying a large stone towards the top of the wall. “Hey, not there! Those are for the base, you'll knock it over and I won't be fixing it!”

Zac ran off to the villagers struggling with the massive rock. Anton took this as a good time to leave. He was about to get Verona when he felt her arm stopping him, raised across his waist to halt him.

“What's the problem?”

Verona looked back towards the village, frowning.

“Someone's watching us from the buildings again. I think it's the same person.”

Anton looked in the same direction. He couldn't see the face but he was sure that someone disappeared the moment they both looked. He let out a grunt of disappointment.

“Another one of Jeffery's goons I fear. Good job on finding them, I didn't even know that they were there.”

Verona didn't look relieved at Anton's praise. She finally relaxed after being patted and not seeing any further followers.

“Alright, no point in hanging about.”

She still looked a little on edge.

“We'll swing by the fire pit. Hopefully, Jeff is there too.”

Verona didn't change her demeanour.

“Those Razor Pigs should be done. Don't you want a piece?”

Her posture relaxed and her eyes lit up. She turned to face him. He was sure she was licking her lips already.

---[]---

“This is so good!” Verona managed to say with a mouth full of Razor-Pig meat. She had taken an entire leg for herself and was eating it like she hadn't eaten in months.

Anton and Jeff had just finished their conversation regarding training of the villagers as they stood around the fire pit. Most were doing very well and Jeff had even taken the initiative to get the 30 best archers formed into a unit who were currently training. That's how many good bows they actually had.

“They're doing pretty well. Got Avery in-charge of them.”

“Who's that?”

“The archer guy from the quarry. Remember him?”

“Ah, never been good with names.”

“Well, he's good. Can probably shoot the furthest, over 200 yards or so, the others are around 150 yards. Won't really matter when there are hundreds charging. We're doing quite well. Also got the arrows counted, three thousand! Huge stacks were hidden in some of the old buildings and just some that people acquired over time. Didn't know we had that much of anything. They won't stand a chance”

Yards, those are Imperial measurements. I think that a yard is roughly a meter. This is going pretty good then.

“Good. Make sure that they know of the wooden stands near the walls. Don't want them thinking that they're just decorations.”

Jeff nodded

“Right, back to work then.”

He headed off to a group of villagers standing in a rough formation. Hopefully, they were about to undergo more training.

Anton turned his attention back to Verona. In the short few moments that he had been talking with Jeff, she had devoured almost half the leg of meat. He hadn't had a piece yet and the rest of the pigs had been divided up amongst the nearby villagers. Her face was covered in succulent looking juices and she did not look like she was going to slow down any time soon.

“You going to share that?” he asked.

She stopped eating for a moment, looking momentarily between the meat and Anton. She shrugged and continued to eat.

This really annoyed Anton.

Without saying anything, he snatched the meat from her hands. It took her a moment to register that it had just been stolen.

“Hey!”

She tried to take it back it was out of her reach. She looked quite annoyed.

Anton raised the leg above his head, Verona started jumping to try and recover her food. However, her lack of height was proving a problem, though she was starting to push Anton over. Using his spare hand he held her back by holding onto her head, her arms flailing wildly about.

“Come on, you've had nearly half this thing and I haven't had one bite yet.”

Verona stopped flailing, instead adopting a pitiable pose, begging for her food back. He was tempted to give her the food back but he resolved himself to at least have a bite.

The meat burst with flavour and juices the moment he bit into it. It tasted like the best pork he had ever had. He spent some time enjoying the flavour and texture, though it was hampered by a whimpering noise emanating nearby.

Anton looked down at Verona who was practically salivating. Anton moved the leg from left to right, her eyes following it like a hungry dog.

This girl can be so simple at times.

“Here you go,” Anton said as he handed back the meat, “I told you I just wanted a bite.”

She happily retook the meat and began munching on it again, this time not like a wild animal.

“Come on, we still need to go see Jonathan before we get to anything more serious...You can take your meal to go.”

“Okay!” she managed to reply, with a small chunk of meat popping out.

As they started to walk to the blacksmith, Anton was surprised when Verona stopped walking. She used the blade of the spear to slice off a piece of meat. He was even more surprised when she offered it to him whilst wearing her massive grin.

“Thanks,” Anton replied, somewhat stunned by her rapid change in attitude.

And then she pulls this...She can be quite confusing. Better than being boring I suppose.

---[]---

Jonathan's blacksmith, like everywhere else in the village, was starting to look very lively. Smoke rose from the repaired chimney and the ringing of metal striking metal rang throughout the air. Jonathan was working outside near the blazing forge.

He wore what Anton would call blacksmith attire: a thick apron and gloves, light clothes protecting his skin from the sparks and a crude mask to protect his face.

He stopped when he spotted Anton and Verona, putting the piece of worked metal back into the forge. His two children, who were working the bellows, stopped as well after receiving a nod from their father. They ran out, covered in soot, and stopped before Anton and Verona looking quite expectant.

“Hey you two,” Anton began, “Are you helping your dad?”

Both nodded furiously. Jonathan stood between them, patting them both on the head.

“They've been good little helpers today. Most people won't want to come anywhere near the forge until it's winter that is.”

Another thing I'll need to investigate.

“I've got quite a few things to ask you, Jonathan. How busy are you right now?”

He shrugged.

“To be honest, only just started the next spear tip. It can wait for a bit. You want to take a look at what we've already got?”

“That and other things. Verona?”

She turned and looked at Anton, still chewing on what remained of the leg of Razor-Pig.

“This could take a while...”

“I can wait.”

“How's the new spear that I made?” Jonathan asked.

“It works as a very carving knife actually,” Anton replied before Verona could.

Jonathan looked genuinely shocked to hear that his works were being used for something so mundane.

“I'm kidding, she likes it quite a lot.”

Verona nodded whilst holding the spear very close. Jonathan relaxed after seeing this.

“That's good. Not really what I intended but I am sure you'll have the chance to use it soon.”

She chuckled lightly.

“Shawn and Jocelyn, can you play with Verona? This will probably be quite boring stuff.”

“Okay!” they both cried. They ran towards Verona, grabbing her and dragging her towards the centre of the road.

“Hang on a sec.” Verona managed to squeak out. She broke free of the kids and ran up to Anton, handing over the spear and leg bone.

“I really don't need this one, Ver.”

She tilted her head at being called “Ver”

“Sorry, I just gave you a nick-name without thinking about it.”

Verona looked at Anton blankly for a moment before smiling.

“I kinda' like it. Short and nice. Call me when you're done!”

She ran towards the kids, looking quite happy.

Anton turned his attention back to Jonathan, who was also looking quite happy.

“What?” Anton asked, no emotion in his voice.

“Nothing.”

Anton knew he was having fun at his expense but decided to drop it. Focusing on defence would be more constructive for him now.

“Anyway, show me what weapons you've got.”

Jonathan motioned for Anton to come around inside the open section of the blacksmith. Leaning against the wall were dozens of spears. Anton picked one up. The weapon did not appear to be as well crafted as the one Verona had but still quite well made. He placed Verona's spear against the wall, separate from the others. He also chucked the leg bone onto the forge, the last remnants of food burning ferociously. Hopefully, she wouldn't get too mad.

“Got 20 spears here. To be honest, just got some straight pieces of wood and fastened a metal tip to the end. Just used some scrap iron. Would be better if we had some better metals...but we've only got what we've been able to salvage.”

“What other metals are there in this world? I'm guessing there are some special fantasy metals?”

Not really necessary for our current survival, but thinking ahead is important. Plus it'll help us bond...I suppose.

“Um, yeah. No one usually bothers asking about that, even before the attacks. Most people thinks this stuff just sort of happens.”

Jonathan seemed rather happy, disappearing inside to reappear with two chairs which he placed next to the forge. Anton took one. Thankfully they could see the three playing outside. It appeared to be some sort of game of tag, though it was probably just them running around.

“I only know of a few outside of iron. Speaking of which....do you know the ways you can get iron here?”
“I presume digging for iron ore? I...get the feeling that that's the way it's done.”

Jonathan nodded.

The other main one is to plant an “Earth Stalk” on the ground over the ground where iron ore or any ore, for that matter, is. It absorbs the minerals as they grow. Not the most efficient but by far the easiest way. They excrete the pure metal or whatever mineral is there. Do not have any here, I knew you were about to ask.”

Anton was.

“And they're expensive to buy. The Royals had complete control but they're dead. Might be able to find someone in a neighbouring kingdom willing to sell the seeds.”

“How do those things breed?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“No idea, but they do somehow. Anyway, apart from iron there's Titanium light and strong but hard to extract and work. Adamantian, super strong and ridiculously heavy and difficult to work with. I've seen it a few times being forged, does not look like fun. There's also Chelium, which is as soft as bread when it's pure but gets stronger the longer it is worked. The last major metal I know of is Gliyrhil. Seems to do something with nullifying magic...or amplifying, not really sure as I have never seen it.”

“That's quite a few.”

“There are many more, I have only just been able to work with iron.”

“And none of them here then?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“Wouldn't know what to look for. Apparently, there are different types of soil and other things to look out for but I have absolutely no idea. Maybe it is in one of those books?”

“Still can't read. Mining is such a large endeavour and those Stalks sound difficult to acquire, so we definitely don't have time.”

Jonathan smiled causing Anton to frown questioningly.

“Nice to know you aren't delusional.”

“That remains to be seen,” replied Anton.

They both looked out towards the three playing. Verona would occasionally look over at Anton, but when she saw that he was still talking she continued playing.

“It's weird to think that they can play so calmly with everything going on.”

Jonathan nodded.

“I don't think she's been happy for some time.”

As good a time as any.

“I haven't asked anyone yet but Verona doesn't seem to like Bertram and Sybil at all. She'll tolerate their presence and I haven't been willing to ask her. Do you have any idea?”

Jonathan sighed and leaned forward.

“Well, her father, Janos and Bertram disagreed on just about everything. That probably rubbed off on her. But it wasn't too bad, until the attacks started. They...both had different ideas on what to do. Janos wanted to attack right away while Bertram wanted to go get help.”

“So what was the problem?”

“When you have the two effective leaders arguing day and night...It paralysed us from doing anything. And if I'm honest...”

Jonathan looked over at Verona and leaned in closer to Anton.

“I don't think either had much of a plan. Janos didn't have a serious plan to equip everyone and Bertram appeared to presume the Yellow Goblins wouldn't attack. If they worked together...”

He sighed again.

“When they first attacked properly, Janos and Dahila where both killed. Bertram assumed leadership of the village...but seemed to have lost his nerve. He was quite brave back in the day. It also let that creep, Jeffrey, to get some idiots to follow him.”

But only after Verona's father died. There's going to be a connection.

“Anything I should be worried about?”

Jonathan frowned and pursed his lips.

“That 'boy' tried to come over to their house, far too often. Her father snapped when he went too far and beat him up. After that, he didn't come around, hid away for a time. It was a good fight if I am honest. That little boy realised that no adult liked him, not even his parents.”

“I don't think I want to know what 'too far' means, do I?”

“Nothing too bad. From what I heard it was trying to get into her room through a window. And to be honest Jonas probably went overboard, though no-one told him off for it.”

“Hmm.”

Anton was hesitant to go any further. He looked out at Verona, still happily playing. Now she appeared to the one being chased and doing a good job of it.

They both remained silent for some time.

“It is probably better for you to ask yourself. She would appreciate it more. Anyway, that's enough depressing stuff for now.”

“Yes,” Anton agreed, standing up, “How good are you at making armour?”

Jonathan shrugged slightly. “I'm okay I guess, far better with metal.”

“Can you make a small set,” Anton nodded in Verona's direction, “She's going to keep coming with me on each battle and I don't want to see her dead.”

“I can, just need the measurements. Judging by her mother...”

Anton turned to face Jonathan. His mind appeared to be in a different place.

“She was...big.”

For a moment Anton thought that he meant that Verona's mother was overweight. However, he realised what he really meant when he saw Jonathan's hands imitating large breasts.

“So?...”

“Probably almost the size of your head, each of them.”

“Hmm. Quite popular with the boys then, huh?”

Jonathan nodded frantically, still in fantasy land.

“Never flaunted it though.”

Anton turned to look at Verona. He couldn't tell how she looked underneath the villager clothes. They way they moved could mean she had large breasts but it was difficult to tell. Anton shook his head, trying to focus on the matter at hand.

“That shouldn't be an issue. Just make a small set with adjustable straps, use your best guess.”

“Got it.”

“Though, I think that weapons should be the priority. Try to have one weapon and set of armour being made. Also, talk to Bertram if you need more people to help, your kid's enthusiasm won't enough I'm afraid.”

Jonathan smiled and nodded, waving for his kids to return. The ran over, slightly tired from running around. Verona also came over, out of breath herself.

“Right, back to work you two,” Jonathan turned to Anton, “I think I'll get some people to help move stuff around.”

“Great, I'll let Bertram know now.”

Anton turned to leave when he heard the unmistakable sound of horses running. He looked towards the sun, it was halfway up in the clear sky.

Allot more time must have passed then I thought.

A scout pair trotted up and stopped outside the blacksmith. It wasn't the pair that went to the north.

Those two should have been back first. Hopefully, they're just at the main hall and waiting.

“We have a good map of the area to the south.” The male rider said to Anton.

“Head to the main hall. I'll meet you there, we'll do it all at once.”

The scout pair nodded, the horse set off at a quick pace towards the central plaza.

“Come on Verona, no use staying here.”

“Do you have the leg?”

“Umm...I finished it.”

“Awww. Oh well.”

Verona did not look that unhappy. She took her spear from the blacksmith wall and raced to walk beside Anton.

---[]---

Four of the scout groups had returned and had gathered in front of the main hall. The north group was still absent even though they probably should have been the first group to return. No one in the central plaza had seen them. It didn't feel good to Anton.

The horses did seem somewhat tired. They probably had been kept in barns for some time and hadn't exercised in weeks, probably a good thing to stretch their legs. Mounted units would be a great addition to their fighting capacities.

Regardless, the others were here and they each had a relatively detailed map of their area. A large table had been placed in the middle of the plaza, each scout group placing their map on the table. The writing and markings were ineligible to him. Verona stayed at Anton's right, looking like she was trying her hardest to understand the meeting.

“Alright, we should get this started. We'll have the squad to the east start.”

Two of the scouts stepped forward and gestured towards their piece of paper.

“Right, to the east there was little to find. Relatively flat grassland for the terrain. There is an old dirt and stone road heading far off to the east beyond the horizon. Some monsters roaming like Razor-Pigs, Thumpers, White and Grey wolves and some Green Goblins.”

The last monster type caught Anton's attention.

“Green Goblins? More varieties of their kind or what?”

The scout nodded.

“They're not very dangerous, probably weaker than a child. They also don't travel in large groups. Largest I've ever heard of was twenty.”

Anton wasn't entirely satisfied with the explanation. He motioned for the scout to continue but that was all the information.

“Okay, South East then.”

“Pretty much the same; a road heading south, flat grassland and the same sort of monsters. However, we did see evidence of poaching that's not human related. A whole bunch of dead Razor-Pigs and Thumpers...well, their carcasses at least.”

The scout reached into a bag and began ruffling around.

“What are Thumpers?”

Before anyone could answer a book was placed in front of him, detailing a Thumper. It was a large rabbit-like creature with over-sides legs and ears, its teeth did look somewhat menacing. He turned to see Bertram smiling at him. Anton didn't even know that he was there.

“Quick and flighty creatures. Got quite a lot of good meat on them if you can catch them.” Bertram explained.

Anton nodded and made room for Bertram at the table, which he accepted. Anton glanced at Verona. She had no emotion regarding his presence, only moving when Anton did. He didn't want to approach the issue now.

“Got it.”

The scout produced an arrowhead. It looked very crude, though it appeared to be furnished with some small red feathers on the arrowhead and tail. The scouts didn't appear to know what it was.

Bertram groaned uncomfortably before getting the book and flicking through the pages, eventually stopping on one that showed a near exact copy of the arrow.

“Here, arrows used by the Green Goblins.”

“What?”

Anton felt the blood drain. The thought that they were at their rear and prowling around felt terrible.

“I thought you said they don't move in large groups?!”

The scout was distressed by this news as well. Obviously, he didn't know about it.

Bertram continued to study and flick through the pages for a moment.

“Ah, here we go. It's scrawled on the edge two pages over. It says 'Goblin species can be controlled and form true settlements if they are intimidated by a more superior being, such as higher ranked Goblins, Orcs, Trolls or anything that can inspire fear in Goblins, not that that's hard. If the controlling being is killed the goblins will rapidly disperse.'”

“Well, that's something then,” Anton said to break the silence, “And you didn't see any of these things when you were there?”

The scout shook his head.

“Good. I think that we'll need to mark the entirety of the south as extremely dangerous.”

The other scouts nodded while Bertram continued to frown.

“The old capital is in that direction.”

Anton motioned for him to continue.

“Two or three days to the south. It had almost three hundred thousand people once. Large stone walls, vast crop-lands and many tunnels and secret caverns. It's probably where they would be. It was the only place with stone structures inside the kingdom. There could still be some good things hidden there.”

“We are definitely too small to contemplate something like that yet. Nonetheless, good to know. Alright, next scout group please.”

“Hang on, one last thing.” the scout interjected, “There is a lake far in the distance, almost a days walk. We could see the shimmering of the water and the pillars.”

The scout pulled out another sheet of paper. On it was a beautifully drawn picture of a lake but what drew Anton's attention were the pillars. They were massive stone towers that appeared to made from badly stacked tiles but truly gigantic, judging from the scale it was several hundred meters tall. There were nine in total and each was connected by a single slab. It was too far away for the scouts to see if anything else about them.

“What are they?”

The scout looked stumped. All eyes trained to Bertram.

“I don't know. You would need to ask Jonathan. He knows quite a bit about ores and stones, or Zac for that matter.”

Neither were present.

“Alright, anything else?”

“Nothing else. Same as the previous report. Just that there is a road heading slightly East of South. Possibly the road to the capital.”

“Alright, the western scouts then.”

“Loads and loads of trees to the west, much larger than those around the village. You can see it and could probably get there in under a day if we really tried. There's a road into the forest but it looks very overgrown.”

“How far does the forest stretch?”

“As far as you can see either way. Almost reaching the mountain but it curves away before reaching the base. We also saw people working at the quarry. Didn't see anything trying to move back in or monsters on the prowl. Just Razor-Pigs, Thumpers and some wild Ix near the tree line. ”

“Thank-you everyone. Make sure you get some food and some quick rest. We'll still need you to help out with the rest of village.”

The scouts left very quickly. Bertram and Verona stayed behind.

“Good to know that there isn't too much of a threat, except to the south.”

Anton moved the four maps together. There really wasn't much terrain to worry about and the other monsters had kept their distance. A group of potential goblins to the south was worrying, but they were least of their problems now.

The northern scouts had not returned yet and the waiting was starting to get to Anton.

He only had given the village a few short days to prepare and they hadn't got that much in the way of weapons, armour or defences. If this did provoke an invasion he knew they wouldn't last long.

Had he over-estimated his own strength and sent everyone here, including himself, towards oblivion?

Thoughts and fears circled and churned through his mind, preventing him from thinking about anything else.

“You okay?” Verona asked.

Her voice snapped him out of his stupor.

She appeared to be quite concerned, frowning gently.

“Sorry, I'm just wondering if I made a terrible mistake.”

“It'll work out, I'm sure. You've been...a great help for everyone.”

She lightly tapped Anton's leg with the but of her spear, teasing him whilst wearing her ear to ear grin.

“Thanks.” he patted her on the head again. She closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying it. “Though I am worried...I think that's them now.”

The sound of a charging horse filled the air.

Anton almost felt a moment of relief, but one quick looked made him feel weak in the knees.

A horse was approaching, but not like he ever hoped to see it.

The horse was covered in blood, cuts and gashes. Its breath was laboured and it ran with an obvious limp. Worse still was that there was only one person at the reigns, the male map drawer. He too was covered in cuts and scratches, some looking worse than the horses.

He rode the beast as far as it could before it gave way, exhaustion finally claiming it. Its front legs buckled and its body fell forward, the man luckily falling off to the side. Anton rushed forward, with many other villagers already trying to help both man and beast.

Anton moved to the man first, placed his hand on his chest and using the prayer power. His wounds healed to a non-threatening level, though it still did use quite a bit of mana.

“What happened?” Anton asked, making sure the man stated lying down so he didn't use his strength.

“We...we made it to the third ridge before the mountain.” the man said in-between laboured breaths.

He reached towards his bag, another villager rifling through and retrieving the map before handing it to Anton. It was quite well made, though it was covered in blood.

“They were hiding behind that ridge...They tried to run off and we tried to stop them before they could make it back. They're quick. Made it to the last ridge before the mountain, fifth ridge from here. We saw...hundreds at the base. They were gathering for something. Before we could do anything more came out of hiding spots. They got Dana. And I ran as fast as I could.”

“Did they kill her?” Verona asked. She started caressing the man's head to comfort him.

He shook his head.

“They hit her in the head with a rock from a sling and she fell off. She was dragged off by them before I could get her back on.”

He fell silent afterwards, the shock and adrenaline withdrawal finally incapacitating him. He tried to say something else but he only spoke gibberish.

Anton turned to Bertram.

“Find your son and tell him that we will be attacked and soon. Tell the archers, make sure they man the walls. Get everyone that's free to work on the wall and to start securing the women and children in the larger buildings. They'll be coming for us.”

Chapter 008 - Vol 1

Chapter 008:

“Hurry it up you lot,” Zac yelled at the villagers working on the wall, “The Goblins could be here any time and we need this wall finished now!.”

Zac was barking orders towards the panicking villagers. News of the attack had spread like wildfire. Anton was shocked that instead of hiding away most had come out to help. Even Jonathan now had a small army of villagers to help him and it was already showing results.

Anton and Verona were at the north section of the wall, both standing on top of a larger section of the wall and looking towards the north. Negative thoughts continued to swirl in his mind.

I have fucked up, pretty badly. Um, we've got enough weapons amongst us, hopefully. Nothing that can be done now except to push forward. What happened to that woman as well, Dala?

“You've got a strange look there,” Verona said after watching Anton think.

He tried to keep his face as still as possible, bringing his hands up to feel his expression. It was quite a screwed up face. He wondered how many other times he had made an odd face but nobody bothered to ask him.

“Just wondering how much disaster I've brought upon everyone here.”

“It was gonna happen sooner or later.”

She shrugged and turned her attention northward.

He was sure they would be coming, but when, he had no idea.

Watching the villagers move the stone did make Anton feel a little bit uneasy like he wasn't pulling his weight. At the moment he had just assigned tasks and assumed that they were being carried out. Probably not the best style of leadership.

He looked out towards the horizon and could still see nothing.

With a quiet sigh, he jumped down from the wall and jogged over to the nearest rock pile.

The other villagers furrowed their brows as he approached.

“Where do you need a hand?”

They looked at one another. One was about to speak but Anton cut him off.

“They aren't here yet and standing here waiting there until they do is driving me nuts. Besides, it's always good to get some exercise.”

“Alright then. Grab that edge.”

The villagers were moving a particularly large stone to plug a gap.

Anton grabbed his side and all together they lifted it.

It was not as heavy as he had expected, but only by the tiniest amount. Though, with much heaving and grunting, they got the stone into position.

He saw Verona getting smaller stones and helping out as well.

This continued, even with two more full loads of stone being delivered, until the sun was high in the sky. The wall stood much prouder. Not taller but now thick enough that it would not fall over by being pushed on. It also ran further around the village, not completely yet, but it was still an impressive feat.

His fingers were red, sore and chaffed, and his muscles were tired from moving the stone. While he was tired, he also felt quite good about his efforts. He saw that the other villagers were also tired.

Zac loudly announced that there would be no more building today, that they had pushed themselves very hard today and they would need their strength.

With that done, Anton returned to his position wall. The sun was getting quite hot and sweat was falling off him in great beads. He knew his face and body was red from the heat and he knew that he was very thirsty.

A noise approached him, Verona. She too was red in the face and judging by the way her clothes stuck to her, quite sweaty.

“Anything yet?” she asked.

“No. I'll get some people to go over the ridge to tell when they're coming...And we need some water.”

Anton felt something bump into him. This time it was Zac, with three large pottery jugs filled with water.

Neither asked if they were for them. They took it from his hands and sculled the water as if they were moments from death. Anton only took a big gulp before stopping, Verona kept on going until it was completely empty.

“Well, I see that you're doing well then.”

“Yeah,” replied Anton. “Been a while since I did any manual labour, I think. Thanks for these”

Zac nodded.

“Good for your body and mind. Just got to wait for them now.”

“You still not going to fight?”

Zac shook his head and crossed his arms.

“I told you before that I’ll defend my home and this village. Take what you will from that.”

Anton could not reply properly to that.

“Time to get some rest then.”

He turned to Verona.

“Go find somewhere in the shade to take a nap. There are a few things I need to get done then I'll be back.”

Verona nodded and all three parted ways.

---[]---

The archers and armed villagers rested in what shade they could find, trying to get what sleep they could. It was hard them all of them, even Anton, with the knowledge that monsters were possibly on the way to kill them. The waiting was the real killer.

Anton arranged for a few people for lookout duty and one of the scout groups had volunteered to wait at the last ridge for advanced warning. Those few on sentry duty that Anton could see moved with shaky and unsteady movements. He wanted to say something to make them relax a bit, but this current disaster felt like his fault.

Anton and many others had taken resting in what little shade the remains of the buildings provided. The radiant heat of the sun was still quite harsh, and the waiting silence only added to the stress.

Verona sat next to him, head resting against his shoulder, her spear resting against the wall to the opposite side.

She was snoring lightly, moth slightly agape with the tiniest amount of drool running out her mouth. Anton turned towards her, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he moved. Right now she looked beautiful, in a wild sort of way.

He lightly brushed the loose hair out of her face. Her skin still felt slightly sticky from the dried sweat.

If he was honest everyone reared of sweat and most people smelt like they hadn't showered in weeks, to which he seemed to be following. No one complained though. He hadn't even heard of anything like a shower or bath. It was probably a low priority right now.

His mind drifted back to the woman leaning on him. For some reason he would like to see her with a proper hairstyle, something other than self-cut. Perhaps some loose braids that hung down her back, something. He tried to picture it and thought she would look beautiful.

Verona slid along his shoulder, the spear moving dangerously close to his face. He pushed it away gently. Unfortunately it was enough to wake her. She mumbled something as she stretched her limbs and back. Her villager clothes were no longer clinging to her body, though it was little relief for him.

As she bent backwards and forwards, Anton could see through a gap in the top her clothes. Judging from the way her flawless white skin flowed outwards from her chest, he guessed that her breasts were a lot larger than he thought.

They must be a C cup at least. They....no, focus. There'll be ...Damit! Focus!

Anton shook his head violently to focus. He hoped at times like this, that he would not get so distracted, but he always did. Thinking back to Jonathan's reaction to describing her mother, her family could be quite distracting. A bit of him wanted to ask the other guys to see their reaction.

Verona finished stretching, slumping back against the wall, her clothes returning to normal. Anton tried his best to not let her know he was looking. She appeared not to have noticed.

For a moment she looked still looked sleepy, her eyes still half closed. The next moment she snapped awake, grabbing her spear and standing up in one sudden movement. She could only just see over the wall.

“Are they coming?” She asked desperately asked, jumping up try and see further. The other resting villagers started to stir after hearing Verona.

“Nothing's here yet,” Anton said loudly to placate both Verona and the villagers. They took it well, most lying back down to try to get some more rest.

Verona slumped disappointedly and returned to sit next to Anton.

“What happened then?” she asked while massaging her shoulders.

Anton looked forward, as her clothes were becoming loose again.

“Your spear was about to carve my face. You woke when I moved it.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn't...”

Anton waved her rapidly flustering face.

“It's okay, you were asleep.”

She seemed to relax after hearing that, stretching out once again.

“How much longer?” she asked, “I want to get this over with.”

“No idea Ver, most people probably wish that this was never happening.”

She smiled at him using his knick-name again.

“Oh, by the way.”

Anton pointed towards his lips. Verona looked on confused for a moment before touching her own lips. She flared red after realising she had been drooling during her sleep, quickly trying to use her sleeve to remove it.

That explains what was on my right arm when I woke up.

“I thought I didn't do that anymore.” she looked downward, bringing her knees up to her chest.

Anton started rubbing her head. “It's hardly the worst thing you could do.”

She looked a little less anxious.

Anton looked at her feet. They were still dirty and bare. If this fight was going to happen there could be broken and sharp objects everywhere. Some of the other villagers appeared to have something on their feet, even if they were just wrapped in cloth.

Anton was still waiting for some sort of armour from Jonathan as well. Expecting it to be done instantly was a bit foolish on his part, especially with other weapons needing to be made. However, it would be a better use of their time to at least find out.

“Come on Ver, we're not getting much rest here. I want to go and see about your armour. Maybe even something to wear on your feet.”

He saw her look at his own old earth shoes then to her own. Anton got up, brushing the dust off his clothes.

“Where did you get yours anyway?”

Anton stopped in his tracks.

Do I really want to reveal something like that? I can probably trust her...probably. I don't think she has any bad intentions. If we survive this, it'll be good to tell someone about this.

“Don't know, I really don't know. Comfortable though.”

Verona wore an odd expression, like she didn't believe him entirely. He couldn't tell if she was able to read him already. She seemed quite tough and a quick learner. Her faced changed back to her usual grin.

“Well, I'm just going to get them then come back. You don't have to come if you don't want.”

Verona stood up and grabbed her spear.

“Lead on then.”

---[]---

Jonathan's blacksmith was still busy despite, or perhaps because of, the impending disaster. Outside the blacksmith stood a wall of basic spears. Anton could hear many strikes of metal on metal. There were at least three people at the forge including Jonathan, the other two were also hammering metal as well.

His two children were outside covered in soot, red in the face and breathing heavily. Two other people were working the bellows for the forge. When they saw Anton and Verona they lost their exhaustion and ran behind the blacksmith wall.

“Did you do something to them?” Anton asked. She seemed to complete miss what Anton said.

A few moments later they emerged with a set of leather armour. To be more accurate it was a chest, arm and leg set. They ran straight towards Verona and handed it to her.

It was a very dark brown colour, the skin looked like leather but he not seen a cow, only those Ix beasts. He probably didn't want to know.

“Dad's really busy at the moment. We were told to bring it to you...but...we got tired and forgot.”

Both tried to look as innocent as they could, they seemed to be pulling it off.

“Thanks, you two.”

Anton placed his hands on both of their heads and recited a healing prayer. The looks of exhaustion on their faces lifted as he felt the mana flow. Both looked surprised at each-other, then at Anton, a little bit of awe in the faces.

“We'd better get back. See you later Uncle Anton and Verona!” shouted Shawn as he grabbed Joclyn's hand. She nodded and waved before following her brother.

“Since when are you an Uncle?” Verona asked, twisting her body to face him.

“No idea. We'd better get this sorted then.”

Verona nodded in agreement.

They walked off the side of the road opposite the blacksmith.

Anton studied the armour. It appeared to be relatively strong and not very flexible, as Anton ran his finger over it to test its strength. There were leather straps from both sides of each piece of armour. There was a metal clip to hold the straps and armour in place. The clip looked quite complicated though a bit old and rusted, probably recycled from something else. Anton hoped it wasn't salvaged from something important. They appeared to work by allowing the straps to enter one way easily and would pinch down, stopping it from coming loose until the clip was undone.

It seemed simple enough.

They moved off the main road and just into an alley on the other

“Alright, we might as well start with these two. These look like leg pieces.”

She grabbed one and Anton took the other. They quickly got the leg and arm pieces on without much issue. Each piece was put on tight but not enough to restrict movement.

Anton made Verona practice all the movements with her spear to check. She swung it around without any difficulty.

“Absolutely fine. Feel a little tight but I don't think they'll move. Just need the chest piece now.”

Anton was somewhat dreading this part. The talk that morning and what he had seen before had influenced how he thought. He had to focus now.

He picked up the chest piece. It was quite heavy.

Verona took and held it on her chest while Anton tightened the straps over her shoulders and her waist. He could feel the heat from her body as he made sure every strap was tight, her body jumping ever so slightly as he touched her skin through the clothes.

Please let this end...And this is meant to be the easy part.

A few moments later Verona looked like she was done. She rotated her shoulders and performed the same movements as before, though she had a look of disappointment. After placing the spear against a wall, she started to fiddle with the armour near her shoulders.

“What's wrong?”

She continued to fiddle with her shoulders. “Just feels a bit weird. I think the straps around my chest are a bit tight.”

“...Right.”

Anton loosened those straps, allowing Verona to check it was right. Eventually, she seemed quite comfortable and happy.

“'kay, what do you think?”

She turned around, leaning the spear over her shoulder. To Anton, she actually looked like a soldier.

“The first proper soldier this village has seen in years I think.”

A look of pride washed over her face. She twirled the spear, just like the first time they met, before thumping it down.

“I knew I'd look awesome. Can't wait to meet those little yellow bastards now.”

She looked around to make sure no-one was watching, rushing forward and hugging him. The force nearly knocked him over and forced him against the wall.

Anton was so startled that he poured mana into his hands for an instant. She didn't move or try to attack him, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she started, keeping her face covered by his chest, “My...my mother....”

She sounded like she was about to say something very important but a high pitched clanging reverberated throughout the village.

Anton didn't know what that meant, but a villager running past made it very clear.

“They're here! Yellow Goblins have been spotted approaching!”

“Damn it. Verona?”

“Hm?”

Verona was still hugging him, now looking straight up at him. Her eyes had the faintest hint of red.

“Tell me later, okay? It's time already.”

“Right, I will.”

She stepped back and collected herself, slapping her cheeks.

“Pity about the shoes.”

Anton looked around but couldn't think of anything.

“Can you work without them?”

“Yeah, being doing it for years, ya' know? Now, let's go fuck em' up!”

She looked extremely excited, smiling with an intensity he had not seen before.

Anton couldn't reply as they both rushed over to the wall.

---[]---

By the time they reached the wall, the village was in a state of complete panic. The villagers that had been trained appeared to be doing better, but they did not have the fire and enthusiasm that the volunteers at the quarry had. They were barely holding together.

Jeff was at the front of the mass of villagers standing just behind the wall. His expression relaxed when he saw Anton and Verona.

“'Bout time you lot arrived.” He leaned in as they made their way through the villagers. “Everyone's terrified...and if I'm honest so am I...just a little.”

Anton didn't answer and moved to a position where he could see clearly over the wall. On top of the closest ridge he could see movement. They were definitely yellow beings.

“So, Jeff. How many people have we got?”

Jeff seemed to like getting orders in this time of crisis.

“Almost 400 here. I've sent quick people to get all the new weapons and armour we've got.” He looked down at Verona. “Hopefully they'll all look a bit like her.”

Verona chuckled, then looked over the wall as well, again using a stand.

“Come on, you little bastards.”

Anton looked at Verona, she looked like she was going to break the stone underneath her grip.

“Verona, I need you to be calm and think clearly.”

She nodded, relinquishing her grip.

“I'll try.”

Anton patted her on the shoulder before turning to the villagers. The runners had returned, each bringing stacks of weapons with them. There would have been almost 40 spears amongst them.

Anton turned to Jeff.

“Make sure those are distributed to the best fighters, so long as they want them.”

He looked back towards the villagers. Some had decent weaponry but some only had sharpened wooden sticks like Verona and some had things like hammers.

Too soon, I went too soon. I'll need to plan better in the future. Still, don't want them to rely on me indefinitely. They need to know how to fight effectively on their own, not that I have any intention of dying. I can't be telling them what to do, leading by the seat of my pants. If tomorrow comes, we'll need to figure something out. Nothing to do now but fight.

Anton didn't say anything as he watched the Yellow Goblins crawl over the ridge. There were probably four to five hundred of them. They didn't appear to have much in the way of weapons but he knew they shouldn't be underestimated.

He turned to face the villagers. From they were they could see the approaching monsters judging by their increasingly terrified faces.

They've been terrorised by these things and lost so many people. Even though we're more organised and better equipped...the fear is still there.

Anton was about to clear his throat but realised that he had no idea on how to make a rousing speech.

He stood upon the wall, cleared his throat loudly and hoped that he would not make too much of a fool of himself.

“Alright, nothing soppy or long today. We all know what's at stake, but we have better weapons and defences than before. If every works together, with some luck and girt, we'll come through this in one piece. So, have faith in yourself and the soldier standing by your side.”

The villagers didn't cheer, some applauded, but most just seemed a little bit happier.

That could have gone worse.

“Jeff, we've brought all the arrows up near each stand. We've even marked out how far we can accurately shoot as well.” It was the curt archer from the Quarry, Avery.

Anton looked outwards. For a moment he couldn't see anything but looking harder he saw a line of small rocks about 100 meters away.

“Excellent.”

“I was going to tell you Jeff, but I didn't want to interrupt the 'heroic speech'.”

Anton turned to see Avery looking very smugly at Jeff, who returned the look. Anton tried his best to not notice, while Verona continued to look out.

“Avery,” Anton began, “As soon as they get in range you and your squad can fire at will. You guys have enough arrows?”

“More than enough.”

“Good.”

Anton turned his attention back towards the Yellow Goblins. He could hear them marching now. They had finished coming over the last ridge and were approaching quickly. They were probably just under half a kilometre away.

“Alright, this is it. Everyone get ready.”

Their horrific chirping and growling was growing louder. Verona appeared to be getting more aggressive the closer and louder they became. Anton placed his hand on her head again. It didn't calm her down much, her calm breathing slowly becoming snarls.

Jeff motioned for the other villagers to moved up to the wall, an archer having to take the stand from Verona. She could just see standing over when next to Anton on a slightly higher part of ground. She still wasn't calm, though she no longer appeared to be getting angrier.

“Archers, fire at will,” Jeff yelled along the line, “When they make it to the wall, they'll try to clamber over. Kill them as they try.”
He looked towards Anton, to see if he was right. Anton nodded in agreement.

“Jeff,” Anton started, “Where are the other villagers?”

“Spread out throughout the rest of the village. There's only two hundred of them that can fight properly though. The rest are in the large buildings and all have weapons just in case.”

“That should be enough. I'll start using magic when they're in range.”

“Hurray, those lightning bomb things. You going to make them join together and blow everything up again?” Jeff asked.

Totally forgot about that. Definitely won't be doing that, especially as I don't understand magic at any real level.

“Not this time, something much more simple.”

Jeff nodded and headed towards the western part of the wall where Avery had headed off as well. This left Anton Verona and with several villagers.

The Yellow Goblins spread out in an even manner. Between each Goblin there was enough room for another three more. They were spreading out, like they knew formations.

There probably a little over 400 in total. This put them on an even footing at least relating to numbers. Anton hoped the larger size, strength and superior weapons of the villagers, as well as himself, would win the day.

The Yellow Goblins started to advance forward. Confusingly, for mindless beasts, they kept their formation, but they seemed hesitant to break into a run.

Not stupid at all. Perhaps something like at the quarry will help.

He waited until they reached the stones, holding back his magic. Verona and the neighbouring villagers kept looking to him, wondering why he wasn't using his mana yet.

They continued to get closer, Verona pulling on Anton's sleeve with a worried look.

“Just wait.”

He turned towards the archer, Verona looked as well. The archer was pulled the bowstring back as hard as he could, the strain was evident in his arms and face. He released the arrow.

It flew forward like a dart, soaring through the air. It connected with a Yellow Goblin at the front of the pack, its deformed head crumpling and the one behind it being in a shower of blood, bone and brain. The others barely seemed to notice or care and continued to advance.

The sound of bows letting loose their arrows sang along the wall. Not all of the arrows found their exact mark, but each let out the satisfying sound of hitting flesh.

The archers grabbed arrow after arrow and fired as often as they could. Yet the Yellow Goblins did not break like the Rock-Rats even after losing more and more. Almost fifty had been felled and yet still no reaction.

“Something's wrong,” Anton said in a hushed tone.

“Why aren't they charging?” Verona asked.

He looked down at Verona. She appeared to be trying to figure out the same issue as Anton.

“At this rate, they'll be cut down so much that they won't be able to fight properly.”

Verona grunted in agreement.

Anton started to look left and right along the wall. He couldn't see anything trying to sneak around in the distance and if they had people around the village they couldn't sneak up on them. So what were they planning?

He continued looking around but couldn't see anything, his attention turning back to the Yellow Goblins. The arrows appeared to be having less effect for they were using their dead as meat shields.

It's still not enough for them.

He looked to the right again.

He missed that several Yellow goblins had stopped and knelt down.

Verona did not.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense. Those few Yellow goblins appeared to stretch something. She knew what that meant, she had just seen it right next to her.

“Get Down!” she yelled, driving the but of her spear into Anton's leg, causing it to buckle.

“What?!” Anton managed to yelp as he fell down.

He stopped his fall with his hands and looked angrily at Verona. He was about to yell something. A sharp sound came from above him, followed by dust falling onto Verona who kneeled down where he had just stood.

He didn't realise what just happened until he heard another noise.

A villager at the back of the line gargled then slumped down, falling onto his back. An arrow protruded from the back of his neck and blood was everywhere.

Both remained stunned for a moment.

“Archers! They've got archers!” Anton yelled, “Get down soldiers!”

The villagers near the slain soldier had only just realised what had happened. Some were still stupefied by the blood that appeared on their faces. They quickly realised it came from their downed friend.

Everyone along the line, except the archers, dropped down. The sound of arrows chipping away at the wall continued to ring out.

“So that's why they weren't worried. Clever little bastards.”

“What do we do now?” a nearby villager asked.

Anton looked up. The arrows were continuing to skid along and over the wall.

They must only be about 50 meters away. What they lack in range their bows make up for in speed.

“Agh!”

The archer nearby got struck by an arrow in his arm, quickly falling back. Anton looked down the line, everywhere else was doing better than here. It didn't look like anyone had been killed, some wounded though. Perhaps they knew he was a mage?

He could hear the Yellow Goblins still moving. The wall was not completely filled in. There was a gap near the bottom to which Anton crawled towards.

Through the crack, he could see the mass of Yellow still approaching. He could not see their horrific faces but he knew that they were enjoying the fear.

Not if I have anything to say about that.

Anton stood up so his head was just beneath the wall. He focused the mana into his hands and formed as many fireballs as he felt safe, around 20.

Verona and the villagers turned slightly away from the flame, wincing and raising their hands to shield themselves from the heat.

He felt that he didn't have time to explain, standing as quickly as he could.

Another arrow flew past he head. The Yellow Goblins were shocking accurate for mindless beasts, or they just had so many it didn't matter.

Pushing as hard as he could the fireballs flew straight towards the Yellow Goblins, using his hand to guide them.

Each fireball slammed into the goblins, their bodies erupting in flame. Neighbouring goblins were horrifically burned and forced to the ground. Their advanced stopped.

Or Anton had hoped.

He was so distracted by the success of the attack that he forgot to duck back down behind the wall.

A surviving archer goblin fired an arrow straight at Anton.

He saw it at the last second but could not dodge it in time. The arrow impaled itself into his left outstretched arm, carving through his flesh.

The pain was excruciating, probably far worse than what he felt at the quarry. Though his concentration was broken, as he fell back in reflex, he could hear the Yellow Goblins continuing to burn.

Verona and the other villagers looked quite concerned at his wounds. She grabbed the exposed arrowhead with both hands. Anton nodded, to which Verona pulled it through with all her might.

“Ah!” Anton whimpered as the arrow was completely removed.

“Toughen up you big baby,” Verona said teasingly, inspecting the bloody arrow.

Anton healed his wound to a usable state.

When he stopped his arm looked like it was still damaged. He didn't want to waste too much mana on himself.

He looked along the wall. Most of the other archers were still firing arrows though many villagers looked utterly terrified. It was a lot more difficult than he had expected.

I should have had allot more to do with the training and building. Guess this is what I get.

While Anton was lamenting about his usual lack of input, a cry rang out from the Yellow Goblins.

The arrows stopped flying.

“They're charging!” Anon heard someone yell.

He looked down the line to see Jeff standing, trying his best to get others back on their feet. Sam was there too helping him.

Anton couldn't help but feel a little dejected, seeing that his section was basically broken after seeing him go down.

“You heard him! Get ready!” Anton barked.

All the villagers and Verona raised their weapons, as if Anton's yelling had given them back some strength.

“Spears Front!”

Anton hoped that the spears could kill them as they tried to clamber over.

He stood up as well.

The Yellow Goblins were swinging their weapons wildly as they charged. There were still a couple hundred coming, smouldering goblins still hobbling to attack.

Anton readied himself to fire another round of magic blasts.

“What is that?” one of the villagers asked.

Behind them, coming over the hill, was another moving mass of yellow.

Fuck.

There were nearly the same number of Yellow Goblins again, and these looked just as eager except they hadn’t lost anyone.

“This is going to be a shit day. Get ready everyone!”

The first charge of Yellow Goblins were a few meters from the wall. Strangely, the only thing that Anton could think of was how each looked nearly identical.

They clambered up the wall, using its uneven surface to gain footholds.

The first Yellow Goblin leapt over the top, its deformed face smiling as it raised its crude axe above its head.

A spear flew past Anton's head and straight into the goblin's. Its face crumpled under the strength of the attack. He glanced down to see Verona already retracting her spear, the Yellow Goblin continuing its forward momentum along the wall and falling between them.

He was about to say something when four more clambered up in front of him.

From his peripheral vision, he could see it happening along the whole wall. Even the goblin archers had stopped firing and were climbing to join the scrap.

They started to leap at the villagers once they reached the top. Some impaled themselves on the waiting spears, most not even realising they had been killed. Others landed on the heads of the villagers, clawing and ripping with an bestial ferocity.

Anton thought, before this moment, that being so small they would be weak. He hated being so wrong, especially in something like this.

More and more climbed over, taking advantage of the chaos to run past and into the village itself. Several dozen made it through before Anton realised.

Anton formed lightning balls again, big enough to kill only one, throwing them as a Yellow Goblin made it to the top of the wall. Each sizzled at the lightning surged through their frail bodies, parts of their skin boiled and burst under the surge.

It didn't stop them, each death barely seemed to phase them.

He knew that they were evenly numbered, at least before their reinforcements arrived. Along the stretch of wall there should have been roughly one Yellow Goblin to a Villager, yet Anton's area was being swamped.

They could easily be running along the far side of the wall then climbing at his area. At least them targeting Anton would take the pressure off other areas.

Anton knew that the next wave would soon be on them, they wouldn't wait.

Another surge of ten Yellow Goblins climbed over. Anton fired the lightning bombs and killed them.

The villagers near Anton's section recovered in the brief moment that Anton afforded them.

The few that made it through were beaten and hacked to death by the angry villagers. The villagers anger and inexperience was quickly breaking any semblance of formation. More were starting to get over and through alive.

He was starting to feel better and confident.

Anton felt something hard crash onto the back of his leg. His hand instinctively reached down and grabbed something warm, the arm of a Yellow Goblin. This one wielded a wooden club.

He poured mana to his hands, summoning flame just onto its hand. It ignited, the Yellow Goblin's flesh burning and charring in an instant. The monster howled in pain but did not recoil, instead using its free hand to club Anton again, this time in the side of his chest. This attack did little damage but took his breath away. The goblin finally collapsed.

He saw three Yellow Goblins stop their race to the centre of the village, turning back to attack him. These did not have wooden clubs but stone axes.

They ran with a speed that Anton thought impossible. He raised his hands, ready to attack. Three lightning balls formed in-front of him. They were larger than they probably needed to be but, wounded and threatened as he was, hitting the villagers around him was not a concern right now.

With about a meter before reaching him, they raised their weapons to strike.

Something blocked his view. It was Verona, covered in blood, her spear raised to attack.

The three stopped, little plumes of dust kicking up from their feet.

Verona did not stop nor hesitate. She charged at the goblin in the middle, thrusting her spear into its face, killing it instantly. This left the surviving two either side, with only under a foot of distance between them. Her face that Anton could see was smiling.

She retracted the spear, bringing it in her arms and close to her body.

Both goblins were just in front of her either side, both swung their axes down at her. She lept back, allowing the axes to swing down just missing her. Instead of thrusting she swung the spear over her head, the metal edge slicing their necks open. The but of the spear came within inches of hitting his face.

Blood gushed out, smearing the ground and her in their blood. Both bodies slumped to the ground.

Anton sat stunned at what he had just witnessed.

“You okay?” she asked between deep breaths.

Despite the chaos of the surroundings Verona was looking increasingly happy, the red goblin blood smearing her body. Her face was wild, more-so than he had ever seen before. Her armour had many white scratches on each piece but none had penetrated.

“Yeah.”

Verona helped him up.

“I've been chasing them down.” she gestured towards the centre of the village.

There were nearly a dozen goblin corpses.

Anton patted her roughly on the head.

“Good job.”

He looked along the line again.

Most of the goblins that had stayed to fight at the wall were dead or dying.

Though the villagers were in quite a sorry condition themselves, they were barely hanging on. They would take a serious beating when that next wave hit. He wondered how many had died.

Anton looked over the wall.

The next wave of Yellow Goblins had broken into a run and was only a few hundred meters away.

A villager bumped into him, still fending off a lone Yellow Goblin. It bit her on the arm. She shouted in pain but still managed to bring a large stone hammer onto its head, caving it in with a single hit. It still didn't let go despite being dead, the villager having to tear it off with her spare hand.

“We can't take much more of this, and we don't know how many made it through everywhere else. You've got to do something!”

The villagers looked very tired and wounded, even though the battle had been a few minutes so far. It was probably one of the longest minutes of their lives.

She was right though.

Anton nodded in agreement, Verona looked on as if she had no idea what they were talking about. She still seemed to have near limitless physical and mental energy.

Two Yellow Goblins dove down from the roof of the buildings directly behind, only a few meters away, and ran towards them. Verona, seemingly without thinking, moved herself to intercept them.

She thrust spear and killed the one on the right before it had even made two steps. Her momentum carried her forward, spinning completely around on her foot and bringing her right fist crashing into the other Yellow Goblins' temple. The force was enough to dislodge its left eye, now half dangling out of its socket.

Both slid onto the ground, twitching momentarily before dying.

Verona recovered her spear and rushed back to Anton's side, brimming with pride and energy. There was no revulsion or disgust at what she had just done. If he was honest, she looked like she wanted to kill more.

Christ, she's scary. Anyway, if I have fire and lightning magic, there must be something more that I can do. I need a little help here gods, if you can hear me.

The line of villagers had been rebuilt as best it could along the entire line. A few were trying to motivate them back into action. Most of the archers were still able to fight and had taken up their positions again.

Anton wanted something to break the Yellow Goblins.

A strange fire lit itself within Anton. He felt compelled to outstretch his hands, as if he was catching a giant ball. His movements did not feel entirely his own. It felt strangely similar to when he first used the prayer magic, a god helping to guide his actions.

Everyone looked strangely at Anton yet no-one uttered a word.

He entrusted himself to the feeling, feeding the mana not to his hands but all along his arms and chest. It was taking almost all his mana but he had little choice but to trust this.

The Yellow Goblins had just crossed the range markers.

The mana formed a thin line along his outstretched hands and chest, folding in on itself becoming tighter and tighter. The pressure from the mana felt like it was going to crush his arms.

A thought ran through his head; to imagine the entirety of the field outside the village engulfed in flaming pillars, swallowing everything in a cleansing flame.

The mana felt hot, not just the usual heavy.

An instant later the mana felt as if it was ripped from him, along with his breath.

He had no idea where it disappeared to, and the Yellow Goblins were now half-way past the range markers.

The grass began to crackle and shrivel underneath the Yellow Goblins feet.

Is that it?

The Yellow Goblins only just started to notice the changes as some started to look at the ground.

Random patches of the ground started to glow red, quickly expanding in size. Fire burst from the ground, engulfing the approaching hoard in dozens of pillars of roaring flame. The force was so great that the entire hoard was thrown into the air. Their screams of being roasted alive were soon drowned out by the roar of the flames.

The light and heat were so great that most of the villagers had to shield themselves with the wall.

Anton stood arms still outstretched, transfixed at the level of destruction he had just unleashed. Verona let out a sharp gasp in surprise. He knew he probably looked like someone who worshipped fire.

Every villager looked on with a mixture of awe and fear. Only a few Yellow Goblins had not been consumed by the flames, they looked confused and scared.

“Fire at will!”

Anton felt the effects of using so much mana. He quickly started feeling somewhat groggy, but he knew that it was Jeff shouting.

A volley of of arrows slaughtered the few remaining Yellow Goblins before they could regroup as the fires began to subside.

A cheer rang out through the villagers, though it was cut short by an ear-piercing shriek coming from the centre of the village.

The pillars of fire soon dwindled and then vanished, only leaving the smoke from the corpses on the field.

All seemed to remember in an instant that many Yellow Goblins had made it through.

Anton turned to where he heard Jeff. He could see him running towards him, looking extremely happy.

“Why didn't you say you could do that earlier? That was bloody brilliant!”

The other villagers shouted in agreement.

“Yeah...Yeah.”

Anton felt increasingly queasy, though he knew that he still had to keep fighting.

Verona offered her shoulder to lean on again, which Anton took.

Anton turned to Jeff.

“Everyone that can still fight...no, most of you...head into the village and kill every surviving Yellow Goblins. Those that stay, tend to the wounded.” Jeff agreed, passing it to others.

The villagers that were not too wounded to fight effectively, around 250 of the original 400, started running towards the centre of the village.

There was a certain tired optimism in them.

Jeff was about to depart when Anton grabbed him.

“I need you to show me where that Karak fruit tree is first. I'm not feeling so good.”

Jeff nodded, waving over six departing villagers.

“We'll all make sure that you get there. Your 'friend' there can kill anyone we meet along the way.”

“Sure...The rest of those staying...keep a lookout and make sure that no more are coming.”

Jeff grabbed a few more villagers, pointing towards the wall. They seemed somewhat hesitant to be stuck back on the wall. The smell of charred flesh and grass was wafting over.

Anton, Jeff, Verona and the six villagers headed towards the centre.

“How many do you think made it through? We had dozens charge through where we were.” Anton asked.

“No idea. A few through our area. They seemed to attack like crazy where you were. Perhaps to take out our mage or something?”

“Maybe...they're a lot smarter than anyone gave them credit.”

There was another scream in the distance.

“And we need to hurry.”

Chapter 009 - Vol 1

Chapter 009:

Anton and his escorts moved quickly along the outskirts of Atros, away from the main plaza. Heavy fighting could be heard, screams quickly replaced by shouts and the sound of charges. Ringing and clanging of metal grew louder as time passed. Anton hoped that this meant the villagers were doing okay.

At present, depleted of mana and disoriented by the withdrawal, he could only safely make two to three small lightning bombs and that was debatable. His only contribution would be as a distraction and meat-shield.

“Jeff,” Anton asked as they continued to run, “Where are you leading us?”

“The Karak tree. You said you wanted to find it.” Jeff replied flatly.

“Yes, but where is it?” Anton asked, increasingly frustrated.

“Behind the main hall, didn't I tell you?”

Anton missed a step, Verona groaning under the increased weight.

“Are you serious!” Anton yelled angrily back.

“I would have told you if you had just asked.”

Anton could not refute his words, he should have just asked. He felt quite stupid for not taking a couple of hours to have a proper walk through the village.

They continued to move in silence, through side alleys and darting across the larger and more open roads. In the larger roads there was the occasional Yellow Goblin body and copious amounts of blood, yet they saw none alive nor any villagers fighting. Everyone remained as alert as possible, but Anton knew that their attention was diverting to the ongoing battle in the plaza.

As they approached the main hall from the back, they encountered their first live opposition. Four Yellow Goblins mulled around the corner of the house just before the main hall. They looked bewildered and lost, but that would change the moment they had an enemy. Anton and the villagers hid in an alley out of sight.

“Jeff, can you and your men deal with them?”

“Got it.”

Jeff and the six villagers dashed out and charged, all in silence. By the time the Yellow Goblins noticed it was too late, their bodies torn apart by the villagers.

It helped that the villagers outnumbered the Yellow Goblins, but Anton did not want to ruin the moment. Everyone looked quite proud of themselves.

They passed the last house and faced the back of the main hall. The Karak Tree, if it really could be called that, looked nothing like he had seen before, on this world or on Earth. It looked like a giant piece of brown and red coral standing four meters in height. The branches grew at odd angles with only a few large and long needle-like leaves growing at the very tip of the branches. Pink fruit grew in the dimples of the branches, tightly secured in the coral shaped wood. This tree had twenty fruits scattered along the branches.

“Okay, could someone please get one for me?” Anton asked, still feeling weak and disoriented.

Jeff walked up to the tree, snapping a fruit off like it was an apple and chucked it at Anton.

He did not hesitate before taking a bite into the fruit. The juices and sweet flavour burst with every bite. After a few mouthfuls he could feel his mana recovering. Strangely, there were no seeds to be found in the fruit and even the stalk was soft, so it only took a few moments before he had eaten all of it.

Anton felt considerably more mana within him. Nowhere near what it usually felt like, but not insignificant. Most importantly his body no longer felt like it was about to give up on him.

In order to test his recovered strength, he stopped leaning on Verona's shoulder and took a few shaky and tentative steps. It was so much easier than before, he no longer needed help to walk.

He held out both hands, palms straight up, and summoned as many lightning bombs as he felt comfortable. After ten he started to feel the withdrawal again.

Deciding that it was enough he drew the mana back into himself. A little of the mana was lost, he could reclaim some of the mana but not all of it.

While Anton had been practising, Jeff had grabbed a bag and filled it full of the Karak fruit. The entire tree was stripped of fruit. He looked quite pleased with himself.

“Okay,” Anton started, grabbing another fruit, “I think I'll be fine with these now.”

A loud cry rang out from the other side of the building.

“We'll do what we did in the quarry: I'll use the lightning bombs while we stay together and gather everyone together. Anyone got any other ideas?”

Everyone shook their heads after a moment of thinking. Without anything more being said they hurried for the plaza.

When they arrived it was a complete stand-off. Around fifty Yellow Goblins had formed a defensive circle formation while the villagers had encircled them, but seemed unable to break their formation. There was only a meter between the two sides. Occasionally one brave villager would charge forward but would be driven back by a flurry of axes and clubs. Archers could not get a clear shot, for when they prepared to fire the Yellow Goblins would surge forward and force the villagers to close lest they burst through. They realised the damage the archers could do.

Anton made his way through the crowd, villagers parting for him. The moment the Yellow Goblins saw him their faces changed. They looked terrified and angry at his presence, raising their weapons, angrily swinging them as if to ward him off.

They need to know they can survive all on their own. A little help would not be unappreciated though.

He formed a single large lightning bomb large enough to take out a few goblins at a time. He flung it into the air, several meters above the Yellow Goblins.

Each Yellow Goblin turned to watch as it flew above. To watch what was about to kill them.

Anton did not make it explode instead nudging Jeff, who stood beside him and pointed forward. Jeff seemed to understand.

“Charge!”

The villagers raised their weapons and attacked, the Yellow Goblins still distracted by Anton's lightning bomb hovering above their heads. It was only when a few screamed as they died did the rest begin to realise they had been so easily tricked, clearly written in their deformed faces.

The 'battle', as such as it was, lasted only a dozen seconds. The small frames of the Yellow Goblins crumpling under the villagers repeated and ferocious blows. Blood and chunks of yellow skin flew up into the air all around them, staining their clothes in a colour that matched their fury.

When the villagers finally stopped the ground was a slurry of blood, bone and dirt. Many looked around for more to fight, bewildered that they had succeed.

A villager cheered in relief, then another and another. It was not long before every armed villager was celebrating.

Anton felt quite proud of what they managed to accomplish by themselves.

Jeff stepped out from the bloody mess, Sam by his side.

“Come on everybody. We've got no idea how many could be left throughout the village. Get out there and start killin' every one of them you can see.”

One of the villagers raised his hand to speak.

“We're...we're tired.”

The man was using his spare arm, leaning another equally tired looking villager, to keep himself upright. Many others seemed to be behaving the same way, though Jeff and the soldiers from the wall did not. Jeff looked as if he was going to yell at them but Anton raised his hand to stop him.

“There can't be too many that got through. A few squads should be enough. Who's up for a bit more fighting?”

Only fifty villagers actually raised their hands, and even some of those looked very shaky. Verona's hand dove up millimetres from his face. At least she still had plenty of energy.

“Alright. Everyone split off in teams and check everywhere. Can't let one of those things do what they want.”

The villagers that were willing to fight left, those staying behind began to tend to their wounds.

“Verona, guess it's me and you then. We'll head south first and go from there.”

“You got it.”

She flexed her arms and legs in readiness.

“That went well.”

Anton stopped and turned. Zac, Bertram and Jonathan and his kids came out from one of the large sealed barns. Behind them were the women, children, sick and old, all kept safe throughout the chaos.

Bertram appeared quite happy while the other two still looked somewhat worried. Zac carried with him a hammer, blood covering the head. He noticed Anton looking.

“Oh, some of them got into the barn. Smashed their heads in. Didn't know there was a hole until we heard them scurrying around. It sounded like a rat gnawing through wood. Thank the gods I was there.”

He looked quite proud of his hammer.

“Told you I would defend this village.”

“True,” Anton rebuffed, “You probably could have done a lot more good if you were out here fighting.”

Bertram started to chuckle. When Zac glared he did not stop, only chuckling a little quieter. Anton was sure that under that bearded face he was starting to go red.

“Nonetheless, that wall did slow them down. And, everyone did their part in keeping each other safe.” Zac looked a little pleased. “Once we've got this thing under control there are more things to discuss. For one, not letting me make all the decisions, or at least appear to. I'm imagining something like a council of people who know what they're doing, where everything can be better organised and controlled. That way we won't be tripping over one another to get things done. I've got other ideas, but that one's the most important right now.”

“Well, it's good to see you're thinking ahead.” Bertram began, “We should have...”

Anton cut him off.

“Hardly matters. The point is that we're getting things done now.”

Bertram simply nodded while the others looked quite pleased.

With that Anton waved them goodbye as they headed south.

---[]---

Anton and Verona walked as quietly as they could as they searched along the roads and alleys of the village. The lack of fighting sounds only added to the tension

None of the villager groups headed south with them. They must have thought that the pair of them would be enough.

As they passed a building before the blacksmith they both heard noises, and not made by humans. The sounds of scurrying creatures were terribly loud in the otherwise silent village.

They hugged the wall of the blacksmith and peered around, with Verona's head looking like it burst from his chest.

There was movement at a building two down south from the blacksmith. Nine Yellow Goblins lurked outside the windows and doors barred from the inside. One brought up its crude axe and began hacking at the door. Despite its small frame large chunks of wood flew off, it would not hold long. The other goblins looked on in glee and anticipation.

“So, what do we do?” Verona asked, turning underneath him to look him in the face. A dull thunk, of metal hitting wood, rang out. Verona's spear had knocked onto the wall.

Anton winced as he heard the sound, hoping that the Yellow Goblins had not heard. When he opened them a moment later, he looked down and saw Verona looking down and incredibly guilty.

She opened her eyes and started to breath more quickly, readying herself for the battle.

“I've got this. I'll take them out and you keep an eye out for surprise attacks.”

Anton looked concerned at her.

“I'm the reason we can't sneak up on them.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Just...be ready, okay?”

“I could just...”

“No.” Verona shut him down with some force.

“...Okay then.”

Verona took this as permission to proceed. She strode confidently into the middle of the road, spear ready to fight.

The Yellow Goblins saw and turned to face her. One Yellow Goblin was still trying to attack the door. Another goblin tapped it on the shoulder and spoke something to it in its horrific language of snarls and guttural utterances. It glanced momentarily towards Verona, not showing the slightest change in expression. Then it saw Anton and it drew its face back into a snarl as if it were a dog.

This one did not move to attack, instead turning to the door and striking it with renewed vigour.

They must really want what's inside...better not let them have it.

Anton summoned a few lightning bombs and kept them hovering around him. He was only going to interfere if it looked like she really needed it, her display at the wall showing that she could be extremely tough. If he did, he knew that she was going to angry at him. That thought ired him.

She took a deep breath and walked forward.

A Yellow Goblin ran to attack her, shrieking and swinging its axe.

Verona waited until the goblin was two meters away before attacking herself. With a single thrust, she stabbed it in the chest. A last second attempt to dodge by the creature only served to move the impact point a little away from the centre.

She let out a grunt of disappointment before planting her feet hard into the ground and using all the force she could muster, ripping the spear out. The flesh and skin tore apart, revealing the strange organs that spilt out on to the ground.

Bewilderment and shock ran through its face, twitching and frothing blood as it thumped onto the ground dead.

She retook her combat stance, blood dripping off the tip of the spear.

The other Yellow Goblins and Anton looked astonished at what just transpired. From the back, Verona did not even twitch as she waited for the next attacker.

The Yellow Goblins glanced at one another, clicking and shrieking at one another. They spread out so they could attack her at the same time, leaving the goblin at the door to continue its mad attack. With a wild shriek, they ran towards Verona.

That would be too many for me if I just had a spear.

Anton was about to fling the lightning bombs when she raised her hand to stop him. She had not looked back once, but she somehow knew. He held them only a few meters away, just in case.

She took a step back after making sure they were the same distance away as the first goblin and leant on her back leg. With all the strength she could muster she pivoted on her back leg and swung herself and the spear around.

The spears edge connected with the neck of the first Yellow Goblin. No resistance came as it was sliced clean off, blood gushing out. The spear continued through to the second, third, fourth and fifth neck. By the time it reached the sixth Yellow Goblin her attack had run out of power.

The spear dug in, lodging itself in its neck. Blood began to flow, but it was not dead. With its last ounce of strength, it grabbed the spear and locked it in a death grip.

This left Verona exposed to the last Yellow Goblin. It had no time to process the deaths of its comrades, as it aimed and swung its axe straight at Verona's neck.

At the last moment, Verona's head turned towards the goblin. She tried to move out of the path, using her momentum after letting go of the spear to try and keep herself out of harms way. The Yellow Goblin adjusted its swing by lunging forward. Verona was moments away from having her neck sliced open.

Anton did not wait, flinging a lightning bomb at the Yellow Goblin.

Its body shook under the surge of electricity, its body and muscles going taught. It's body and axe still had momentum and continuing its trajectory. The axe missed her neck, but dug deep into her shoulder.

Verona howled in pain. She relinquished the spear and fell over backwards, clutching at the axe. Her blood seeped through her fingers and dripped onto the ground.

The Yellow Goblin hacking at the door heard Verona's cry and stopped. It looked at the dead goblins on the ground then at Verona, still writhing in pain, and ran towards her.

Anton flung another lightning bomb before it made the halfway point, killing it instantly.

He looked around to make sure there were no more goblins. Realizing there were none, he rushed and knelt next to Verona. She was still in great pain, though she tried her best to hide it.

“Oh harden up you big baby,” Anton said, mocking what she had said earlier.

She looked angrily at him, almost as if her eyes could shoot daggers. He gave a quick and sudden pull but it was hard to remove, her flesh retaining the axe head.

“Alright, On the count of three. Ready?”

Verona tensed her muscles and nodded.

“Okay, One-”

Anton ripped the axe head cleanly out. Verona screamed as the blade left her shoulder.

“You!-”

“If I had actually counted, you would have tensed even more and done more damage.”

He inspected the axe head. Like everything the Yellow Goblins had, it was crude and barely functional.

More important was Verona. Blood leaked out of her wound in great quantities. He placed his hand over the wound and used the prayer power.

The amount of mana nearly caused him to black out once again, but he held back at the last second.

He slumped down onto the bloody ground and grabbed another Karak fruit. While he ate Verona stood up, rubbing her shoulder to check she could move it properly. After a few spins she was satisfied.

A few moments later Anton had devoured the fruit, feeling a modest amount of mana returning. Verona recovered her spear and helped them both to stand.

“That magic of yours is really amazing,” Verona said, with a hint of awe.

“And that's why we should always work as a team. I've got more than healing, you know.”

Verona's face turned extremely sour.

“I woulda' had 'em.”

Anton raised his brows in disbelief, Verona taking this as confirmation that she could have died.

“Sill, I did take six out in one swing. Was that awesome or what?”

“It was pretty impressive.”

Anton patted her on the head

“You were almost a bad-ass.”

“...I have no idea what that is...but I presume it's pretty good...right?”

“Oh yes,” Anton said proudly.

Verona slipped out from his hand and jumped enthusiastically in the air. As she landed she stopped moving and looked quizzically at him.

“What were they after anyway?” she asked, looking at the smashed door.

It was something that was continuing to bug Anton.

These creatures appeared to eat grass so they should not have much problem with food. So what could they possibly want? Perhaps they just revelled in violence. But something was continuing to eat away at him, like his subconscious had all the pieces and refused to tell him.

They approached the damaged door, only a few splinters remained. A few more swings and it would have broken down.

“Hello?” Anton asked tentatively.

Something shuffled, getting louder closer to the door.

Through the gaps of the door, two dirt but relieved faces emerged. It was a middle-aged woman carrying a small child in her arms.

“Thank you,” The elderly woman spoke with a croaky voice, “I thought they were going to get in.”

She chuckled as she spoke. The adrenaline must still be coursing through her body.

“Why aren't you with the others?” Anton asked, opening what remained of the door.

“We...we were about to...and then I heard the bells and everyone was in a panic. I don't know...I just panicked and hid at home.”

“You're safe now, and currently we're getting rid of any goblin survivors. Head to the plaza, there'll be help there. Food and water too.”

“Thank-you,” the woman said as she ran through the ruined door. She gave them a final nod in thanks before hurrying towards the centre, the child still in her arms.

“Great,” Verona said, turning her attention to the south, “Let's go and see how many are left.”

Anton was about to tell her something about asking for trouble, but it was too late. The sound of crashing wood came from a few buildings over, followed by a short shriek.

Verona grabbed Anton's hand and ran, dragging him along with bestial strength.

---[]---

They passed three more buildings and through an alley across the road before they found the source. Three people; a man, woman and young girl, were being attacked by a trio of Yellow Goblins. The man stood out in front, using the remains of a broken pitchfork to bravely try and fend them off.

Anton prepared the lightning bombs, Verona lowered her spear and charged without a word.

She only made it two steps before the man fell. One of the small throwing axes, used the first day Anton arrived, jutted out of the man's face. He twitched and shuddered a moment before falling back onto the woman and rolling onto the ground. She did not even react, too frightened.

The monsters laughed, or what passed for laughing in their language. The two survivors, still paralyzed by fear and shock, could not resist them. One goblin struck the women in the legs with the blunt edge of an axe, both falling over. The other two grabbed the villagers by their hair and began dragging them away, screaming in terror as they struggled with their captors.

The free goblin noticed Verona, causing her to stop in her tracks. The two goblins dragging the women barely flinched at seeing her and continued to drag them away.

Anton flung a lightning bomb at the lone Yellow Goblin and killed it. Verona glanced back, her face looking annoyed, but continued to advance.

The two goblins stopped, the women no longer screaming but still terrified. They grabbed each woman by the throat and held a small knife to it, snarling at Anton and Verona. Both kept their distance.

They began to gesture wildly towards the south and shrieked loudly. From where he stood Anton could see the edge of the village, grassland stretching uninterrupted to the horizon.
If they could get that far they could probably sneak through the longer grasses back to the mountain, back to do whatever they did.

Verona took a step forward, the goblins tightening their hold on the women's necks. A thin line of blood crept down from the knives.

She stopped advancing, Anton coming up beside her.

“What do we do?” she asked. “I can't move that quickly. Any your bombs will probably kill them too.”

The Yellow Goblins appeared to relax when both of them remained stationary. They began to drag the women away slowly, putting extra pressure on their necks until they started to drag themselves.

I can't use the flame, it'll roast all of them. The lightning bombs are too dangerous...but just the lightning...

Anton fed the mana to his hands, but only enough to just feel it building. He raised his hands, feeling the whips of mana curl through them. Unlike the lightning bombs, he did not turn them into a ball, using what strength and control he had to keep them straight.

He released the mana. Two small lightning bolts flew from his hands, one hitting the woman and the other hitting the Yellow Goblin holding the girl. All four twitched then slumped as they were hit. Both of the goblins lost their hold and knives falling loosely to the ground.

Thank god that worked.

The women, still slightly paralyzed began to crawl away as best they could, shuffling and wriggling their bodies. The Yellow goblins were far more paralyzed, their bodies and faces twitched violently.

Their faces turned into terror, as if they had seen a vengeful god. They clambered as the stun effect wore off and ran south. Their legs barely obeyed their thoughts as they ran.

Anton gave Verona a bump in the back. She ran past the villagers and quickly dispatched the Yellow Goblins with a single strike to the back of their heads.

“Are you alright?” Anton asked both of them, making sure they were both okay.

They stood weakly, both embracing each-other. Their hair had been frazzled by the lightning bolts and a few parts of their skin had been burned but otherwise, they were fine.

“Did...did you know that would work?” the younger girl asked.

Verona skipped back and stood triumphantly next to Anton. Both of the women glanced at the blood on the spear. He hoped it was not out of fear.

“Um...yes. Yes, I knew it would work.”

Both looked quite relieved.

Truthfully, I had no idea. I'm just glad it did.

“Who was he?” Anton asked, looking at the dead man.

“Our neighbor. Nice man, and I'm glad that he was there for us. We'd have been dead if it weren't for him.”

There was some sadness in both of their faces.

Verona looked back towards the man and the lone Yellow Goblin.

“Oh, it's still alive.”

It lay face down, a pool of blood slowly growing from underneath it. She was about to thrust her spear into its heart when Anton grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him, confused at why he had stopped her.

“We need to know more about these things.”

He turned to the women pair.

“Head to the central plaza, you'll be safe there.”

“Thank-you, thank-you so much.”

They quickly ran towards the centre without looking back, leaving Anton and Verona alone with the dying goblin.

“What are you going to do?” Verona asked, keeping her spear pointed at the goblin while Anton knelt beside it.

“Just a quick check...Do you have a knife?”

Verona searched around her hip and procured a small steel knife, about two inches long, handing it to Anton.

He held the knife in his right hand as he placed his hand on its back and began to search, hoping to find something to help. He found nothing that he had not learned the first time.

The goblin showed no signs of dying, continuing its laboured breaths. Eventually rolled it over to check its front.

Blood smeared its front. Nothing valuable could be seen. Its face was twisted in pain, but it seemed to be paying the most attention to Verona.

He was about to ask Verona to kill it when his attention was brought to the raggedy loincloth. It was taught now, even though before they looked like they were barely hanging onto their hips.

Using the knife he prodded around until he felt resistance. His mind felt somewhat queasy as he used the knife's edge to lift the cloth up enough to see underneath. The moment he saw it he lowered the knife.

Well. No need to explain what that is. That would hardly be the most important thing to be worrying about if it were me.

Other things started to move within his mind; the uncaring slaughter of the male defender, no attempt at all to harm the women until threat, the attempted kidnapping of the women and the scout Dala, and now this.

He did not want to admit it but he had a pretty good idea of what was happening. The mental flashes were not pleasant at all.

Breeding stock. I guess the magic in the world deals with the genetics problems.

Anton turned and looked at Verona.

“What's wrong?” Verona asked, her face full of worry.

Anton could not answer what he felt they were doing.

“Just don't ever get caught by those things, Ver.” He hoped that could be enough for her.

She frowned in anger.

“Tell me what's wrong. I'm not a child!” She was not backing down.

“Okay,” Anton placed his hands on his hips, “Even I know from that look that you're not going to back down.”

Verona nodded furiously.

“Well, It...”

“Help me!”

They both turned to the new voice. A woman, tall and willowy stumbled out of a house. She clutched her right side, both hands almost covering a bloody section of clothes.

They both ran to her.

“Those...those thing attacked me,” she spoke with a weak and soft voice.

Anton looked around, but could not see any blood or scuff marks on the ground and floor behind her.

“Where are they?” Anton asked.

“I...don't know. Can you help me please, my side hurts.”

She leant against the side of the house and slid down to a kneeling position.

“Hold on, move your hand. I need to see the wound.”

She did as he asked, both hands returning to her side.

“Something's wrong,” Verona said, concern in her voice.

“What?”

“The blood, it's not wet enough for a fresh wound. And she's inside-”

Anton turned to look at Verona.

A sharp pain erupted from just under his left chest.

Verona's face went white and her mouth twitched with fear.

He looked down and saw the hilt of a knife jutting out from his side. The woman’s left hand held the knife, the right hand driving it into his flesh. The edge twisted ever so slightly before the pain grew and became like blinding sparks shooting through his mind. His hand grabbed the woman’s, using all his might to crush and to stop its movement. She winced under the pain, and tried to recoil but could not.

Verona, now red with anger, thrust her spear into the woman's right shoulder, retracted and then drove the spear into her left shoulder so hard that the blade tore straight through and embedded itself into the wood.

“I'm gonna' fucking kill you!” Verona screamed at the woman.

The woman relinquished her hold of the knife, if only because of her injuries. Now she looked to be on the verge of crying.

Verona tried to pull the spear out of the wall but could not, it was well and truly stuck. Her attempts to remove the spear only served to tear apart the woman’s shoulder. Each movement brought a louder cry every time.

“Verona, Stop!”

She looked at him, a mix of confusion and fear.

“Why?”

“Because-” Anton used both hands to remove the knife.

It looked to be a quite good knife, better than he had seen in this village, possibly only brought out on special occasions. He slipped it into his pants.

“We've got a lot to talk about with this one.”

Anton stared, with little emotion, at the woman as he lifted his shirt and exposed the wound. It was quite deep and blood seeped out the moment the knife relieved the pressure.

The woman looked confused as Anton placed his hand over the wound. Her face changed to horror as the wound closed before her eyes, as if it had never happened. Quite a bit of mana was used, he had already

Anton felt quite weak and grabbed another Karak fruit before standing up next to Verona. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“How about we have a little talk?” Anton asked.

---[]---

After some heaving and pulling the spear pulled free from the wooden wall but not from her. With the woman still impaled on the spear, Verona picked her up and shoved her into an empty house. Verona did not let her go, continuing to move the woman until she slammed against a wall. The woman yelped and clutched at the wound.

Verona moved to the left of the woman but kept as much distance as she could, like she was holding back a dangerous animal. The woman only remained standing thanks to Verona's spear. Occasionally the woman's feet would slip, accompanied by the sound of the spear and wood groaning under the weight.

“Just keep a good hold on her.” Anton told Verona as he stood next to her. Verona nodded, trying her best to keep her obvious anger under control.

The woman was suffering from the lack of blood, growing increasingly pale and beginning to shake.

Anton placed his hand upon her and healed her just enough to close her wounds to stop the bleeding. Color returned to her skin but so did her anger.

“So...” Anton began, “we're going-”

The woman spat at him. The warm saliva nearly entered his eye and ran down the outside of his nose.

The spear moved again, Verona letting out a grunt in anger.

“Verona?”

“Huh?”

Anton started to remove the spit with his face with his sleeve.

“Please don't move or do anything unless I say so. Understood?”

He turned to see if Verona understand. Her face changed when she saw his, frowning and pursing her lips. Eventually her expression softened and she nodded in agreement, though she still looked deeply concerned.

They turned her attention back to the woman. Despite her wounds and predicament, she had an air of superiority about her.

We'll see about that.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

The woman cocked her head and looked curiously at him.

“I don't think you have the intelligence to do this yourself or for no good reason,” Anton asked condescendingly.

“Don't you want to know who I am?” Her voice was a little hoarse from injury, otherwise befitting someone relatively young.

“I really couldn't give a shit. Now, who sent you?”

The woman refused to answer, turning her head away in disgust.

“Then at least tell me why you want to kill me?”

She refused to answer again.

“Okay. I'll ask again after we've had a little bit more private time.”

“What do you mean 'private time'?” Verona asked, a slight quiver in her voice.

Anton pulled out the knife.

“What are you going to do with that?” the woman said with a mocking tone.

Anton didn't answer, moving so Verona could not see what he was about to do. He grabbed her right hand, pulled hard on her middle finger and placed the knife on the knuckle. He looked up at the woman, who started to understand what was about to happen.

“W...wait!” she blurted out.

He used the blade to make a deep cut into the knuckle. Blood seeping out of the wound. Almost half of her finger had been cut. She howled in pain, louder than Verona but far more pitiful.

Anton let the blood drip from the wound onto the floor. She tried to cover her new cut with her other hand, but Anton held her wrist and bent it back as hard as he could. Anton let go when she stopped trying to fight.

“Now.” Anton began wiping away the blood using the woman's clothes. “Who sent you?”

“My name is Cara. I...”

“I didn't ask for your name.”

Anton grabbed her right index finger and cut into it, just like before.

She cried again, to which Anton loudly sighed. Verona remained silent, though a quick glance backwards showed that she looked a little concerned with what he was doing.

“I'll ask again.” Anton now wiping the blood off the knife on her sleeve.

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Who sent you?”

Anton placed the knife on her next finger and waited for a moment.

“He...He said it would be easy. That you could be killed like anyone else. I was to be rewarded eternally, with every kind of pleasure-”

Anton started to push the blade's edge into her skin, watching her wince in pain.

“Jeffrey!” she cried, Anton stopped. “He told me to do it!”

“The one that seems to hate me?” Anton asked for confirmation.

“Hate you?” Cara looked baffled, before leaning forward, “He is a glorious man that knows more than anyone else, especially you. He knows you're a charlatan with cheap tricks.”

Cara tried to spit again, but Anton clamped her mouth shut.

“Even that whole fire thing just before? With the giant pillars of fire?” Verona asked.

“Yes. Tricks of a liar and thief,” Cara wrangled her mouth free and turned to Verona, “And you should know that, of all people. You've seen what he can do to people. That he can twist them, like Bertram and the others. But you have known Jeffrey for years. You know that he's a good man, with limitless love for everyone. You especially.”

Cara was basically gushing near the end.

Sounds like a cult. Didn't know that Jeffrey was so obsessed with Verona. There's probably more to this than just sneaking into her room.

Anton looked at Verona. She had a look of utter revulsion.

“That...thing...broke into my room when I was sleeping! He would watch and follow me all day.”

Anton and Cara briefly looked each-other before turning to Verona. She continued to hold the spear with both hands but kept her face down. Her hair covered her eyes but he could see her mouth, teeth bared like a wild animal.

“He just stared at me. I could hear every breath. Do you have any idea how scared I was? I could barely even open my eyes, but I knew that he was there, watching me! When my dad finally came I was so relieved when he threw him out the window.”

Her face was red in anger, not of tears.

She twisted the spear, metal grinding into the wood, quickly drowned out by Cara's screams. Anton could see bits of flesh and sinew begin to wind around the bloody tip as she continued to turn.

“No one should do that, no Human should! And you listen to what he says?!”

She pulled the spear out, ripping more of Cara's flesh as it came out. She aimed at her face and tried thrusting again, but Anton hit the shaft upwards. The tip barely missing Cara's head and catching some of her hair.

“Verona!”

She did not answer him, tears streaming down her face.

“That's enough.”

He took the spear out of the wall, Verona barely resisting as it slid out her hands.

“I'll finish up here, wait outside.”

He handed the spear back, though she hardly seemed to notice. She did not move, holding the spear close to her body while continuing to stare angrily at Cara.

“He...He would never do something like that,” Cara began, still shocked at nearly being killed. “He holds you in such high regard.”

Verona's body shuddered.

Anton looked Cara straight in the eyes, drawing her attention away from Verona. “He was smart...perhaps devious enough to get you into his little cult, and then threw you at me in order to kill me.” He grabbed her head with both hands. “So who's going to stop me from killing you?”

Cara did not comprehend for a moment before everything drained from her face. She looked over at Verona, trying to sputter some words but nothing came out of her quivering mouth.

Verona continued to stare and said nothing. Eventually, she turned around and walked outside, the door slamming loudly as she left.

Utterly terrified, Cara slumped down onto her knees, both hands grasping at Anton's legs.

“Please don't kill me...I have some much more to live for. He surely has-”

Anton did not care what she had to say now. He placed his hand on top of her head and fed all the mana he could spare.

Her hair began to shrivel and smoke, quickly bursting into flames.

“Why?” was all Cara could croak out. The smoke began to come from her eyes. They spun wildly for a moment before melting and running down her face in a thick white stream.

She scrambled to try and run but Anton kicked her hard in the chest, her body slamming back into the wall and curling onto her side. The last vestiges of air thoroughly knocked out of her as she gasped for breath. Smoke began to billow out of her mouth.

Her hands clawed at her throat but to no avail. Her mouth opened to scream but could say nothing.

He continued to feed mana into the flame. It encircled her head like a scarf and quickly started to travel downwards.

Her skin, fat and muscle formed great boils before erupting in wisps of flame and smoke. The boils traveled along her body, each erupting and burning in turn. The flames began to grow until it consumed her entire upper body in an inferno, quickly traveling down.

The remnants of the flesh turned black as her entire body charred and blackened to an unrecognizable state. Soon even that, along with the bones burned to ash.

A few seconds later nothing remained except for a pile of ash.

The smell of the burned body was utterly horrific but disappeared quickly.

A vague charred outline remained on the wall, the only other reminder of her existence.

It only took a few seconds to kill her.

Anton knew, from what he could feel through the mana, that her death was unbelievably painful. More than he could have ever imagined. A part of him felt joy and happiness at knowing that. He pushed that side down, lest it rear its ugly head again.

Without saying anything he left the abandoned building, and its pile of ash, alone.

---[]---

Once outside, Anton took a giant breath.

What he had just done had felt very impulsive, but he felt it was the right thing to have done.

Someone did just try and kill me. Probably should have just slit her throat or something. Anyway, where are you?

Anton looked around and found Verona sitting dejectedly on one of the large wooden crates, her spear sitting loosely across her lap. He sat next to her on the same box, not leaving much room between them.

An awkward silence rose between them, carrying on for some time. Neither could start a proper conversation.

Eventually, Verona shuffled uncomfortably and began to speak.

“You...you didn't seem that surprised?” Her voice was soft and weak. It was a struggle to hear it.

“Someone told me some of it,” Anton replied as flatly as he could.

She stared at the ground.

“I've never told anyone that...my parents thought I was asleep the whole time. I haven't even thought about it since they died.”

She rubbed her face with her hands, wiping away the tears that collected in the corners of her eyes.

“It's been a rough time for everybody,” Anton said.

“Yeah...yeah, it has. She's dead, right?”

“Yes.”

It grew uncomfortably silent again. Anton tried to break the silence.

“You going to be okay? If you want to talk about anything, you know I'll listen.”

She looked warmly at him, smiling faintly.

“I know.” she bumped his arm with hers. “I just need a bit to...you know...get myself together.”

Anton nodded and tried to slide off the crate, to give her some space. He stopped when Verona grabbed his arm.

“Just...wait a second. Please.”

He moved back onto the crate, Verona's head leaning on his arm.

Neither said anything for some time. They sat there, letting what had happened and what had been said sink in.

Eventually, she removed her head from his shoulder and slapped her legs.

“Right. Time to go.”

She slid off the crate but her legs did not support her weight. They crumpled before she made a step. She fell face forward onto the ground, throwing away the spear so she did not impale herself.

Anton stood still as Verona rolled around, the end of spear shaft still landed in the centre of her chest, taking the wind out of her.

“Damn, that was bad. My legs feel tingly...could I get a hand up please?” she asked as she rolled onto her back.

“You probably just sat wrong. It'll pass soon.”

Anton leaned down to help her up, but she interlocked her arms around his neck. He stood up and moved Verona to so he could carry her on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and securing them with his arms.

“Considering with what just happened...are you okay with this?”

Verona nodded, her chin hitting his back with each nod.

“I'm okay. I don't do anything I don't want to do.”

“No. No, you don't.”

Anton smiled. She could be quite obstinate from what he had seen.

He knelt down and picked up her spear.

There were no sounds of fighting anymore. They had stopped before meeting Cara. He hoped that meant the battle was over.

“Let's go figure out how bad this whole thing went...and something to eat.”

Verona patted him with both hands on the chest and pointed towards the centre.

“Onward then!”

Chapter 010 - Vol 1

Chapter 010:

Neither Anton or Verona spotted any more Yellow Goblins on the way back to the central plaza. Small groups of villagers met on the path and followed them. They had the same story as Anton and Verona; a few stragglers scattered throughout the village trying to capture or kill people. All the villagers noted that when the Yellow Goblins where on their own, instead of a group, they were quite easy to defeat.

Most decided that Anton's return meant the threat was over. Some stayed behind to do some last minute patrols.

Nearly all the villagers had gathered in the centre when they arrived back. Some were smeared in blood and were being tended to. In the centre lay newly dug and roaring fire pits, some meat was already being cooked.

Anton felt that it may have been premature, but he was doubtful the Yellow Goblins would attack again for some time. They had lost nearly eight hundred. Anyone would think twice. He hoped they would not attack again soon. Lots of work needed to be done.

The delicious smell of cooking Razor-Pig wafted throughout the village plaza. He had no idea when the villagers had managed that, at least he hoped that it was Razor-Pigs.

Verona sniffed and inhaled loudly. She began to squirm on his back, readying herself for the much-needed meal.

“Get a piece for me this time, will you?” Anton asked as he turned and unwrapped his hands.

Verona nodded and unclasped her arms from around his neck. She retook the spear from his hand, gave a backwards wave and skipped off towards the fire pit. There was a small crowd gathered, though it did not matter to her. She pushed her way through and knelt down with the others, waiting for her turn.

Anton found Bertram and Jeff in front of the main hall. They waved him over the moment they saw him. Laid out in front of them were several villagers, looking far more bloody and wounded than the others. As he approached blankets were pulled over them.

The villagers covering the bodies had a haunted looked in their eyes, their faces stained with a mix of tears and dirt. Family.

“How many?” Anton asked, trying not to look.

“Twenty,” Bertram replied, his voice solemn.

“Only that many?”

Jeff shrugged his shoulders.

“Most died at the wall, some died while dealing with stragglers when they got ambushed.”

“Allot less than I thought would be the case,” Bertram said while looking at the bodies. “I take it...”

Anton shook his head. “It took all I had to fix some rot on Jonathan's legs, I definitely couldn't bring the dead back to life.”

“So, what happens now?” Jeff asked.

Anton was about to begin when he saw Johnathan, Zac and Verona approaching. She had two large pieces of meat with her. Apparently, she had listened to him. She handed the considerably smaller one to him when she arrived.

Not that much different then.

“I think we need get quite a number of things sorted out. For one thing, organization. At the moment it seems that our organization and administration is somewhat broken and reactionary at best. If we can get more organized with people who actually know what they're doing...instead of me just giving orders and hoping that they'll work out. The rest of the villagers probably have little to no idea what's going on, and it's frightening for them.”

The others shifted uncomfortably, though none were going to raise any objections to their observations at his performance.

“So,” Anton took a bite out of the meat, tasting just like the last time, “I was thinking that we have Bertram in charge as the Chief, Jeff as a Commander, Zac for Construction and Jonathan for Armoury and Forging.”

He took another bite of the meat, letting what he had just said sink in. “I think it's a good plan.”

The four men huddled together and began talking amongst themselves. Verona poked Anton in the side, still gorging herself on her food.

“Are you sure that's the right decision?”

Anton looked down at Verona. She seemed to be trying to figure out Anton's thoughts about the new arrangement.

“I don't think it's too bad. Besides, it's a good decision to get people who know what they're doing in places where they can be the most effective.

It should also make them more loyal, hopefully.

“Also, I can't read, so...”

Verona shrugged.

“I still can't read or write...myself. It's difficult...for me.”

Anton raised his brow. Verona was going red in the face, the shame of admitting was quite large for her. He did not know what most people her age in this world were capable of, but she seemed to take it very badly.

“We'll learn together then.”

She looked up at him. Before she could answer the huddled group disbanded.

They seemed rather happy.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jeff said, the others nodding in agreement.

“But lad,” Zac began, “What are you going to do then?”

Anton thought about long about this. It was a while before he said anything.

“I think as some sort of special adviser or something, I think I can be useful other than just my mana. We still need people for things like agriculture, mining and diplomacy, but those things can wait. They're sort of taking care of themselves right now. Is everyone...okay...with there positions then?”

Bertram stepped forward.

“I think so. Umm...if we have a meeting at first light, we can get organized for the day and report on what happened the previous.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Anton said in agreement.

“So what will you do then, Verona?” Bertram asked.

She seemed a bit hesitant to answer, briefly glancing at Anton, as if for assurance to answer.

“I'll go with Anton. He seems to know what he's doing.”

He tried to grab the Razor-Pig leg from her again. This time she saw his hand as he reached for it, bringing it into her chest.

“Not this time.” her grin widening to ridiculous proportions.

I'll get you later for that.

Anton relented, smiling that Verona seemed playful after what happened before. He had no intention of telling the others about Cara, at least just yet.

“Enough you two,” Zac said dismissively.

“So, any ideas of what to do next?” Anton asked.

The four looked questioningly at Anton.

“Well,” Verona took another bite, “He put you in charge. What's the plan?”

Being told off by someone so young, they stammered before Bertram coughed.

“First we need to tend to the wounded and get rid of the bodies, both ours and theirs,” he turned to Anton, “How much mana do you have?”

Anton flexed his hands, trying to determine how much of the 'heaviness', he had. There was little resistance, and as he thought about it, he felt a little queasy.

“Not much. Couple of light heals but nothing spectacular.”

He chucked the Razor-Pig meet at Verona. She let the spear roll into her elbow and caught it with her free hand. She seemed bewildered by the amount of food she now had.

Everyone except Jeff and Verona looked surprised as he pulled out a Karak fruit and devoured it in a few seconds.

“That fruit works wonders, thank-you Jeff. Though...I do feel a little sick in my gut now. Guess I can't have too many then.”

Bertram looked at the other three.

“Well, if you can...get to healing the seriously wounded. We'll start gathering all the gear the Yellow Goblins had, drop the bodies into the pit and figure out what we have left.”

“Alright then.”

Anton moved off to the wounded villagers that Bertram gestured to when he said 'seriously wounded', Verona following him.

The four looked at one another, shrugged, and separated to do their duties.

Anton lent down to Verona's level as he walked and retook his food.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For saying something I couldn't then.”

She opened her mouth to question but closed it as she realized the hidden meaning.

“I get ya'. Why didn't you mention Cara?”

“Not the right time yet. But it'll have to be soon...or never.”

Verona looked away in deep thought as she walked. She stopped in front of a, particularly wounded villager. His arms and face were covered in deep wounds and blood.

“Might as well get started.” pointing with the but of her spear.

Anton took one last bite before handing it to Verona. He placed his hand on the wounded villager and recited the prayer in his head.

---[]---

Over the next half hour, Anton healed over thirty seriously wounded villagers. He healed them enough so they would not die, they would have to fully heal themselves on their own. Almost half the central plaza had been turned into a makeshift hospital, tables usually reserved for eating now had the wounded splayed across them, those less wounded taking chairs or just lying on the ground.

Using the prayer power, and the feeling of joining with another person was starting to become easier and more instinctive. After using it so much he could tell if someone would die without intervention. It was difficult to explain, but to him, a mortal wound felt like the fire within someone would go out unless he did something, almost like rekindling the flame.

This lead to several awkward moments when a villager, would look on the verge of death, but turned out that the wounds were largely superficial. Nonetheless, he still healed them a little to placate them. All those that he could see that were about to die were healed.

The dead Yellow Goblin corpses had been removed and dumped in the pit the south. Whatever they carried had been placed into a large pile to the side of the main hall.

Anton had just finished with the last villager and was feeling extremely weak. He found a chair no longer in use and grabbed a Karak fruit, Verona standing beside him. She had not left his side since he had started healing others.

He took a bite, but something felt wrong. The mana returned as it normally did but now he felt ill, extremely ill. He took another bite, now he felt far worse.

Without any warning, he felt like his entire stomach was coming up all at once. With the few moments he had, he lent forward. Pink vomit surged out his mouth and splashed onto the ground in front of him. Luckily there was no-one nearby to get splashed.

“By the Gods! Are you alright?” Verona rushed around, grabbing his shoulder and trying to look at his face.

Anton wiped away the remains and looked at her. She looked as if she had just witnessed a murder right in front of her.

“I'm okay,” Anton said weakly, followed by a large cough and spitting out what remained in his mouth.

“Here, drink this.”

Verona pulled out a small leather pouch and handed it to Anton. It was full of water.

“One of the Yellow Goblins had it on them. Thought I would help myself to it.”

The refreshing water was a godsend to Anton. After a few rinses, the acrid taste was gone, though his throat hurt from the stomach acid.

He directed a little bit of the prayer magic inside and took the edge off the pain.

“What was that?” Verona asked, hand still on his shoulder.

He held up the Karak fruit.

“This...this is what happened. I've had four today...and that looks like all I can have. I remember Jeff having a few and this certainly didn't happen to him.”

“Maybe it's because your a mage, perhaps it reacts differently to people that can use magic.”

“Want a bite?” Anton said teasingly.

“Absolutely not.” Verona shook her hands. “I've seen what it can do.”

Anton looked back at the pink pile in-front of him.

“Probably should get that cleaned up.”

Many other villagers were looking and talking amongst themselves. He hoped that they were not thinking that their mage was sick.

“Nothing to see here!” Verona yelled at the growing crowd. “Just a little bit of sick.”

Thanks, Verona.

A figure, not unlike a bear, moved through the crowd. Zac.

“What the bloody hell happened here?”

Anton was about to answer when Verona cut him off.

“Bad reaction to too many Karak fruits. He's fine, more worried about the mess now.”

Zac looked at the pile at his feet and left without a word. A few moments later he returned, carrying a large wooden bucket full of dirt. He poured it over the pile and spread it out loosely with his leather shoes. Within a few moments, there was virtually no sign of what had happened. The crowds too started to disperse.

“You seem to know what you're doing,” Anton said to Zac.

“Had to help the neighbours with there kids couple of times, husband was killed you see, so I know roughly what I'm doing.”

“Thank-you.”

Anton still felt a little weak when he stood, Verona was still at his side.

“Is Bertram done with the details of the battle yet?”

Zac nodded towards the main hall.

“Almost. He's just going through the gear now. Just in case you wanted to know, I've been at the wall, organizing what we can to be repaired. Do you think we should start getting more stone?”

“Tomorrow at the earliest, I would think. However, I leave it to your discretion.”

Zac placed his hand on his chin.

“Definitely tomorrow then. Everyone's going to want to sleep after today...those that can at least.”

He looked over to the dead villagers with sheets pulled over the bodies and the families surrounding them, still grieving.

“Nothing that can be done now. I'm about to head over to Bertram now. Everyone that needs healing is fine.”

Anton looked around. Most of the people needed rest, food and medical attention, whatever that was in this world. His mana was not an inexhaustible resource and he could only bump it up so much it appeared.

Finding out what worked in this world, such as healing herbs and the like was now, a new priority. One that, considering his magic, he had not thought of before. His mind flashed back to when he first met Jonathan in his blacksmith, his children came back with a basket full of herbs. They would be a good place to start.

With another item to address lodged into his mind, he walked as quickly as he dared to. Verona, and thankfully Zac, kept his pace and helped when he had a little wobble.

Bertram, Jeff and Jonathan looked quite confused when Anton hobbled over. Verona and Zac explained what had happened to Anton, Verona adding more details than he would have liked.

“I've never heard of such a thing.” Bertram said, shaking his head in disbelief, “How many have you had in one go?”

“About ten with no problems,” Jeff replied. He was looking quite worried. Worried that the fruit he had been enjoying may cause such a violent reaction.

“But nobody here is a mage,” Anton countered, “What about that one you knew from before?”

Bertram looked up in the air, recalling a lost memory.

“She may have mentioned something about 'doping' and overusing it, never thought it was real though. She was the only mage, until you, that I've ever seen. She kept to herself quite a lot.”

“Hmmm...so what have we got here then?” Anton asked, pointing to the pile of loot taken from the Yellow Goblins.

“Exactly what it look likes,” Jeff kicked the edge of the pile, “They mainly have these basic rags to cover their junk. Weapons are the same, very basic and worse than anything Jonathan could make while drunk and blind.”

Jeff picked up a wooden club and swung it around.

“I guess we'll keep the better ones in reserve then.”

Anton knelt down to the edge of the pile and started to rummage through some of the gear. Some were still wet with blood. Eventually, after going through a few pieces of what he could only describe as loincloths, he found something different.

Crudely sewn to the inside of a nondescript piece of clothing was a little satchel. It was made out of the same material, hidden so well that it would be missed unless you were trying to look for it. He pushed lightly down on it, it was hard but by the way, it moved there were some small loose objects within.

He gestured for Verona to give him Cara's knife that she kept on her waist. No one questioned where she acquired such a fine blade, Anton was grateful. He would use it later. After handing him the knife, he began to unpick the few stitches that held the satchel onto the cloth.

With a few stitches remaining he opened it and peered in. They were rocks, but the lack of light stopped him from getting a good look at them. He poured them out onto his hand and held them in the sunlight.

They were gems of some sort, of nearly every colour, size and shape. Most were either red or green. He presumed they were rubies or emeralds.

“What are these?” Verona asked, leaning down and grabbing one of the large red gems.

She held it up to the light. This gem was long and thin but the red light it cast over he face was beautiful.

“Rubies and emeralds,” Bertram answered as he trotted over, “And this one is...I don't know what these blue or purple ones are.”

The others started to have a look at the gems, smiling as they picked through the gems.

“How valuable are these?” Anton asked.

The four men stopped and looked at each other in disbelief. Verona continued to look at the gem in her fingers, allowing the red light to shine upon her face.

“This small red gem is probably worth more than a year's work of a hundred peasants in an iron mine,” Bertram explained.

Anton continued to stare for a moment.

Bertram coughed uncomfortably, “You must definitely not have your memory back yet then. We used Gold, Silver and Copper coins as currency, each one thousand times the next one up. So one silver is one thousand copper. Prices of things varied from each place. This little red one here would probably be worth five silver at least.”

Bertram looked at the rest of the small pile. “Several hundred silver coins at least there probably, since I've never seen the blue or purple ones before.”

“What could you buy with a single copper coin?”

“A piece of bread, old and a little mouldy, but otherwise edible You could be a cheap house for a few pieces of silver.”

Anton looked at the pile. There could be hundreds of secret satchels hidden throughout the mass.

“Money is of no use to us, yet. We should check all of these, see how much we can find and pool it together for future use. Oh, and nobody should steal any...”

Anton's directed the last part to Jeff, who had just tried to put a gem in his pocket.

“Get some people that can be trusted and start.”

The others nodded, calling over some healthy villagers and begun searching.

Verona was still looking at the red gem.

“Why do they have these? And why keep it on them?” she asked.

“Trophies, I suppose,” Anton replied. The other appeared to agree with him. “When everything went bad I presume that people tried to get out of the country and take everything valuable with them. These probably got taken from people heading north, past here.”

Verona passed the gem to Anton and reclaimed her knife.

“Got another one.” A villager cried.

In a few moments, four more satchels had been discovered, their contents placed into a wooden bucket.

Jeff and Zac occasionally had to slap some villagers over the head when it looked like they were going to take some, but eventually the process calmed down. Wooden buckets started to fill and the villagers started to look increasingly happy at their new-found collective wealth.
Jonathan and Bertram stood back from the villagers, discussing something. When they saw Anton looking, they waved him over. Bertram held several pieces of paper, with the characters of their written language.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Jonathan asked.

“Let's get the bad stuff out of the way.”

“Bad news is that you torched allot of ground that was used for grazing of animals,” Jonathan replied. Anton opened his mouth to reply but Jonathan stopped him. “The cows and Ix beasts all have good milk, makes good cheese. Anyway, the good news is that most of the crops are grown to the south and west, so we've got food for the immediate future.”

“How-”

“The next few months at least.” Bertram chimed in. “Even without more harvests.”

“That's good news, though I don't think this situation will last that long.” Anton looked down at the piece of paper. “What have you got there?”

“New records on what we have, produced and lost. Already cleared up quite a few things, regarding food, water and weapons. Again, we should have done this earlier.”

“I take it that we have something good to tell the people?”

Bertram cocked his head ever so slightly. Anton did not fail to miss that Verona had done this as well.

Anton nodded towards the villagers. Those that had been grieving were now talking amongst themselves. However, Anton could not help but notice that some were new faces, ones not covered in grime and tears. They did not look like grieving families, rather more like villagers that had not ever fought.

There were only three of them but they were having quite an impact. Their arms were flailing wildly, occasionally pointing towards Anton. Most seemed to take no interest in what they had to say, but a growing number were.

“Any idea who those people are?” Anton asked.

Bertram and Jonathan looked as covertly as they could.

“More of Jeffrey's mob,” Jonathan replied. “Do you want us to get rid of them?”

Anton waved the idea down. “No. It'll just help to legitimize whatever they are saying about me.”

“Are you sure it's about you?” Bertram asked.

Anton nearly rolled his eyes.

“Who else could it be about.”

He turned and faced the instigators. They seemed much less confident when they knew Anton was staring at them.

Jeffrey should know by now that his plan and woman failed...if she survived he probably would have used her, saying that in the confusion I tried to attack her. Now, how to get rid of these instigators and turn everyone against them? Again, not something that I can do effectively. I should probably use our new Commander.

“Jeff. Could you come over here a minute?”

Jeff waved, said something to Zac and jogged over.

“What's up?”

“We've got a problem brewing amongst the people. And I want you to use your new position to get rid of it.”

“So...what then?”

Anton smirked at hearing that Jeff was not completely opposed, though his enthusiasm did seem to diminish after realizing he was a part of a plan.

---[]---

A few minutes had passed, during which Anton had explained his plan. Jeff got most of it and seemed relieved that Anton's plan was basically what he wanted to say anyway.

In that short time, the grieving families group had grown somewhat. Thankfully most seemed curious as to what the fuss was about and left soon after discovering it was some sort of rally. A small but worrying number of people were starting to listen to the instigators, which Anton had decided to call them.

A few of the loyal villagers found a table and placed it in front of the main hall. Jeff stood up, faced the crowd and banged the but of his spear loudly on the table.

“Everybody! Everybody! Can I have your attention?”

Quickly the constant talking amongst the villagers died down, all turning their attention to Jeff. He swayed a little, perhaps not use to so much attention or responsibility. The only time he had been given such things, in Anton's time here, was giving orders to fighting villagers. What Anton had asked him to do was probably well out of his comfort zone.

He cleared his throat and began.

“Everybody listen up! Today we did very well, far better than most of us expected. Though...that doesn't help with those that have lost people close to them.”

The villagers looked to one another, then towards the dead villagers.

“Right now we are preparing a plan to cou...co...get them back for what they've done to us. This may seem like it's too soon after what has just happened, but I know that we need to act fast and together. That is why a new council has been formed, with my father at its head, myself as Commander, Zac as Chief Builder and Jonathan as head of Armoury. There are other positions to be filled which will be explained later. With this new system, we can finally become truly organized and start to take the fight to them.”

Hope grew in the eyes of the villagers.

“If we give up now, all that we have done and all those thousands that have died before us will have been in vain. But...we need to continue to push forward and see this thing through to victory!”

A cheer rang throughout the village.

Anton did not know much about effective speeches, but Jeff seemed to have found the right tone with the villagers. Hope for the future and fear of returning to the chaotic past in a single moment. Jeff glanced at Anton, a little hesitation in his face. Anton nodded in approval, happiness evident on his face. Anton had only given him the necessary pieces of information and a general direction. Quite a bit extra was thrown in there, but it did the trick.

The momentum seemed to be in their favour, but Anton looked towards the instigators. They were talking rapidly amongst themselves. He knew they would be doing something very quickly.

“You're just a puppet!” one of the instigators yelled towards Jeff.

Here we go.

“You just do whatever that mage tells you.” Another one of the instigators yelled out. This one had moved a fair distance away from the first, probably to try and make it look like a more widespread notion.

“Why should we listen to him, he couldn't care less about someone getting killed. He probably doesn't even know their names!”

Anton could not disagree with that. He tried his best to not let the accusations visibly get to him, but some of the villagers seemed to have growing doubts. He remained silent, anything he said right now would be in haste and probably get turned on him.

The others around him were beginning to look concerned.

“He probably just plans to use us, then escape with everything of value!” The third one spoke up, as far away as he could be from the other two.

The crowds did not appear to believe this outburst as readily.

Not bad. The last one was a bit of a stretch. Perhaps that's because the other one was not a lie. But what can I do now?

Anton clenched his fists, an attempt to calm down. His previous actions in the abandoned home had steered him towards the more violent actions. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to stand up in front of the crowd and shout down the instigators.

He knew, from past experiences, that right now the crowd would turn against him. The doubts in their heads would crystallize and it would take many months, if not years, to undo it.

While Anton was desperately trying to figure out what to say, more things were being loudly shouted at him. Most came from the instigators, as they continued to move throughout the crowd, but some were coming from those with tear soaked faces. He could hardly yell at the grieving families.

“Why didn't you do more?!”

That almost got to him, nearly enough for Anton to lash out. Verona grabbed and held his clenched fist at the last second, bringing him back to reality.

Parts of the crowd were quickly starting to whip themselves into a frenzy, and Anton's lack of response was not helping.

“How dare you!” A voice from behind blared out.

It was an older woman’s voice, one that he had heard before. Bertram's wife, Sybil.

He turned around and watched Sybil, furiously waving a wooden cane, as she approached.

“What have YOU done to keep your loved ones safe? Huh?”

The crowd went deathly silent.

“I've been alive long enough to see what happens when a few shit-stirrers, like you three, get everyone riled up.”

Anton was visibly shocked at hearing her swear. Verona tugged on his hand, also looking shocked and concerned. The others looked this way too, except Bertram, who wore a faint smile.

“What would have happened if we hadn't done all the things he had said? Hmmm? Building the wall, organizing the defences, getting us to start looking out for one another again. Bringing us together when we're tearing what little we had apart. We'd be dead, that's what.”

She pointed her cane at the first instigator, “Do you really think that man that you worship would have done better?”

She laughed, though no-one else did.

“Why I even trusted him in the same room as my son...I'll never know. So, instead of doing what saved almost a thousand of our lives, what would you have done?”

The instigators looked to be in a state of panic, they must have expected they would not need to be involved any further.

“Jeffrey...he would...” A collective groan came from the crowd.

Sybil cut him off before he could recover. “He would do exactly what all men like him would do; take everything of value and run away when it went bad. Which it would have. Jeffrey is not as smart as he would like to think.”

All three instigators looked horrified. Anton felt a serious level of smugness that their word was being turned against them. The stares of the people started to turn from him and towards the three, some even taking steps away, further isolating them. Obviously, Jeffrey was not a popular man, definitely more so if most people knew about Verona. He made a note in his head to thank her later.

The second instigator tried to speak again.

“L...Listen, Cara is missing, and she was last-”

Anton dreaded having to explain that one now. A hand fell onto the man's shoulder. He turned around and whimpered.

Avery held his shoulder tight and turned him around. He then grabbed the other shoulder before he could move further, stopping him from running away.

“I think it's time, you and your friends leave...for good.” Avery's calm voice travelled throughout the silent plaza. Cheers and heckles quickly sprung up.

A dozens spear-wielding villagers surrounded each of the instigators.

I didn't know I was so popular with the military. Guess that being at the front paid off.

They knew it was over for now. Rocks and pieces of junk were thrown at the instigators. Some hit the armed villagers but they did not flinch.

All three were headed to the centre. They quickly gave up their resistance.

“Fine. We'll be back!” One yelled while walking to the south.

“No,” Avery said, not letting the instigators past. “You and your friends aren't going to come back. You get nothing from us. You're on your own now.”

The three looked horrified. They and their friends must have been sneaking away food from the communal meals.

Jeff stepped off the table and walked towards the three, the crowd parting as he moved through them. He stopped just in front of them.

“I thought he was my friend. Guess I was wrong.” Jeff said. He lent back and brought his fist straight into the lead instigator's stomach. The man curled over without a sound, the other two stopping him from falling over.

“Get out of here.”

That was close. Didn't realize Avery would be on my side. Still, I'm just thankful that this has been dealt with without setting myself as some kind of brutal dictator. I wonder how this council thing will work out.

No one said or did anything as the instigators crawled away. Jeff said nothing as he made his way back to his stand.

Once up there he did not speak for the longest time, staring at the ground.

Eventually, he looked up, took a deep breath and motioned for Anton to get up on the stage.

“Alright. What do you want to know?” Anton asked the swarming villagers.

---[]---

Anton spent the time until dusk explaining and re-explaining to the villagers what the new council would mean for them. The villagers seemed hopeful about having organization and direction again.

He was surprised when he realized how late it was. Each time he would finish with one crowd, most would leave, but those that stayed had even more difficult questions. Some were about things that he had no idea about, but he gave the best answers he could.

Most villagers seemed to like him, or at least understand him with these smaller, almost group sessions. Some even openly admitted that they were scared and afraid of the changes and of him, but after having those changes explained they came around.

Anton did not fail to notice that some of the grieving family members had left, following the instigators to the south. Luckily it was not too many. Regardless he told Jeff to keep an eye on them, the thought of more people turning to Jeffrey was unsettling.

The dead had been cremated, as was the custom of the village. It was a sobering reminder of what had happened.

The wounded had been brought inside the houses. Most were doing well but some were still in bad shape and he knew that he could not use the prayer power indefinitely, especially if he had to leave or was killed. He had missed his chance to ask Jonathan's kids, he would do that in the morning's council meeting.

The council had agreed to meet tomorrow morning to discuss the next phase of activity and most had gone to bed.

Anton too was getting ready for bed. He had changed into is old earth clothes, hopefully letting his villager garments air out. It went without saying that the odour of the village was quite poor, he hoped to have a bath or something soon. There was nothing to hang them on though. He was trying to fashion something out of the furniture, his mind able to wonder slightly.

Jeffrey's followers were a little worrying. The fact that everyone wanted them to just go rather than kill them was a little odd, considering what they were trying to do. I still don't think that everyone will just go with their death...yet. He can still be useful, for now. In the meantime, I can use this to my advantage...somehow.

A knock on the door broke his train of thoughts.

A silvery head peaked around the slightly ajar door. She looked a little sheepish and waved when he looked and smiled at her.

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” Verona said as she entered the room.

“It's fine. Have you-”

Anton turned to face her, words failing him.

Her usual villager clothes had been replaced with some sort of light grey coloured nightgown, coming just above her shoulders and hanging very low on her chest. The sleeves were also too long, covering almost all of her feet and well over her hands. It was definitely several sizes too large for her. She carried her spear in one hand, her armour set under the other arm and a small bag in the other.

Anton turned his attention away, trying not to ogle her more than he already had.

“W...Where did you get that?”

“Oh, this? I asked Sybil if she had anything more comfortable to sleep in. She brought out this.”

She started walking over to the window, where Anton was. He tried to keep his eyes on her face but found her walking very distracting.

“Said it was something from when she was younger.”

Can't imagine what for.

After resting the spear on the wall to the right of the bed and twirled around, enjoying the more comfortable clothes.

“You getting' ready to sleep yet?” she asked.

Anton tried to look her in the eyes but was distracted by the way her breasts rose and fell with every step and breath. A wicked smirk grew on her face.

Oh, come on.

Verona did not say anything as Anton stammered for a response. She took advantage of his pause, placing the small bag and armour set near the wall and jumping onto the bed. She stretched out her whole body, her body going limp as she relaxed.

“Did Sybil show you where your room is?” Anton asked after regaining his composure.

She glanced at him for an instant before looking back at the ceiling.

“There wasn't a bed there yet...and I'm not sleeping on a floor again. Ever.”

“If we ever leave here, on an adventure or something, I think it'll be that way again.”

Verona groaned and turned onto her left, away from Anton. She worked the animal skin covers from underneath and pulled them over herself.

“At least not for tonight, please.”

Anton had given up trying to arrange something with his clothes and just placed them over the chair.

“I take it that you're staying in my room again?” Anton said teasingly.

Verona looked at him, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I...I felt...cold when I saw that woman stab you. Cold and alone. So, you need someone to keep an eye out for you.”

“Hm.” was all that Anton could reply. He knew that meant that she would stay for the night. Her reasoning brought back images of burning Cara alive. It dominated his mind, suppressing all other types of thoughts.

Another set of eyes to keep an eye out would come in handy, especially someone that was good in a fight.

Now though, he just wanted to sleep. He moved to the other side of the bed.

“In that case, I'll take the other side. If I move about in my sleep you need to tell me.”

Verona nodded and shuffled away, just a fraction.

There was only one candle that lit the room. He blew it out, the only light now was the little that came from the outside. Thankfully it was enough to see with.

He crawled into bed as well, keeping his hands by his side. The warmth from Verona had already travelled quite far.

“Good night Verona.”

There was no answer. Eventually, he felt shuffling through the sheets.

“I will get stronger any way I can.”

He turned to face her, her silver hair shining underneath the soft moonlight.

“I need to get stronger, not just physically, to be useful. I barely understood what you said out there...and...I can't read or write.”

She pulled the covers half-way over her had at saying that one.

“It won't be easy, I know. But something tells me that it's the right thing to do. Can you help me?”

Is this my patron gods doing?

She seemed quite confident. He brought his arm out from underneath the covers and patted her on the head.

“Of course, and thank-you. That means quite a lot to me.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes, burrowing into the pillow. He removed his hand and brought it back to his side.

He closed his eyes, sleep quickly starting to overcome him. He felt movement again, peering out his right eye. Verona had moved a little closer and seemed to be asleep.

Anton felt glad that there was someone here that he could rely on.

Chapter 011 - Vol 1

Chapter 011:

The tiniest ray from the morning sun pierced Anton's closed eyes, waking him from a very long and pleasant sleep. His right arm felt a bit strange, a little numb. While his left was still at his side, his right arm was laid out along the pillow.

Oh please don't...

He knew that the other night Verona had, more than likely, slept on his arm.

When he could see and think properly a few moments later, he turned to his right.

Verona was where she was the other night, buried in the covers and mouth slightly agape. Her head was a lot closer to his arm than when she fell asleep, so she may have laid on his arm at some point.

He tried to move as quietly and delicately as he could but it was no use, she stirred at the slightest movement.

“Good-morning Anton. Good sleep?” She threw the covers off her top, sat up and rotated and stretched her arms. It appeared to be her morning ritual.

After she finished stretching, her face changed. Pain and discomfort swarmed her face. She brought her hand and touched the middle of her back. The moment she touched it she yelped in pain.

“You okay?” Anton asked, still trying to get himself out of bed.

“Not really. My back really, really hurts. All along it. Do you think I pulled a muscle the other day?”

Considering what she did, it was not impossible. During one of her fights she could have pulled a muscle.

He sat up himself and gestured for her to turn around. He placed his hand on her back, it slightly jumping as his fingers made contact, and chanted the prayer in his mind.

Mana flowed forth into Verona.

“Any better?” he asked as he removed his hands.

The moment her hands made contact she recoiled and hissed in pain.

“No!” she tried to touch her back again but it still appeared to be painful. “Why didn't your magic work?”

Anton shook his head.

“I have absolutely no idea.” He could not see anything through her clothes. “It should have worked.”

“Maybe there's a mark or something. Can you have a look?”

“Sure.”

Verona sat motionless for a moment before looking back at him.

“I can't see with your clothes still on.”

Verona glanced back at Anton, turning faintly red.

“Okay. Just...turn around please.”

He did as he was told. The sound of rustling and shuffling of clothes filled his ears. They continued for some time, his mind continuously throwing suggestive images and thoughts.

Keep focused. This isn't like that.

“I'm ready,” she said, her voice noticeably far lighter and more nervous than he had heard before.

When he turned around, he was almost stunned speechless.

She was almost completely naked. Thankfully she still faced away from him. The only things that she covered were her breasts, hugging them tightly with both arms and clasping her hands underneath her armpits. Her legs covered loosely by the nightgown.

What he could see was a well-toned back. It was quite impressive. As she breathed he could see the muscles stretch and contract underneath her skin, virtually no fat between the two. Her skin was quite light, even in the yellow morning sun. Though it, along with her face, was growing increasingly red.

Every so often she shuffled uncomfortably, adjusting her arms to stop her breasts from spilling out the sides. From Anton's perspective, it looked like she was failing. She was holding them far too tightly.

“So, where is it?” Anton asked, trying his best to not let his voice wobble.

Verona freed her right arm, quickly using her left hand to cover herself, but not before Anton caught a glimpse. They were as large as he thought.

She pointed just below her shoulder blades, along her spine.

He looked closely, his face under a foot away.

There was not a single blemish, cut, bruise or anything at all across her back. Nothing that looked like it could cause the immense pain of earlier.

Feeling a little nervous, he touched the area lightly with his hand. The skin felt unbelievably soft under his touch. It did feel a little warm, but when he moved it to the edge of her shoulder blades it felt the same. He felt the occasional quiver as he rubbed over the muscles, swearing that she moaned ever so slightly as he did so. The sound she made tickled something in his brain, he wanted to hear it again. However, he did not feel like getting slapped, beaten up or worse if she took it the wrong way. He removed his hand and took a deep breath to regain his composure.

“I can't see anything Ver. Does it still hurt?”

She nodded.

“A bit right now. When you touched it there wasn't anything. As long as I don't touch it, it won't be that bad.”

“That's good to know at least. We've got out first council meeting in a little bit, are you sure-”

“I'm going.” she snapped. “I'll be fine.”

Without saying anything she threw the covers off and stood up, giving Anton a clear look at her rear.

“Are you getting dressed yet?” she asked, turning to look at Anton, annoyance on her face.

“Yeah...”

Anton got off the bed but remembered his clothes were draped over the table, over on Verona's side. Just as he was about to say something, his clothes hit him in the back. She did not say anything.

He started to get dressed, from his old clothes to the peasant ones. Changing gave him a little time to think.

I don't think she's as fine as she says, probably just trying to push through the pain. Hopefully, that's why she seems a little off.

He was dressed relatively quickly, the sound of clothes rustling still coming from Verona.

“Are you done?” Anton asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. Just need to get my spear and armour.”

He turned and saw her rummaging through the small bag she brought, pulling out the large knife and putting it on her hip. She reached down, grabbing her amour and motioned for Anton to help her. The armour was quickly assembled. Verona took a few steps away and stretched her body, checking for problems. There appeared to be nothing wrong.

She grasped his hand as she walked up to him, and pulled down sharply. It was not enough to cause him any pain, but it did force him to bend over. In an instant, she had released his hand and brought both of hers onto his face.

For a horrific moment, he thought that she was about to stab him in the throat.

Instead, she jumped and hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his neck. He felt a light kiss planted on his neck as Verona let go.

Anton was stunned for a moment, before standing up straight again.

Verona turned a shade of red he had not seen before and appeared to be continuing to go deeper. She tried to hide her embarrassment by smiling and chuckling, but she said nothing to explain herself before turning and leaving the room, nearly skipping as she left the room.

He stood there in stunned silence. The kiss was still hot on his cheek. It had been some time since he had kissed, even if it was just on the cheek. Regardless, he would not find anything outstanding alone in his room.

That...that was different. I wonder where this will go. This is the most fun I've had in a long time.

---[]---

The council, as it was, had agreed to meet at the first light in the main hall. Verona was waiting outside one of the doors at the front, her face still retaining a tinge of redness. She waited until he was almost there before opening the door for him, saying nothing of what she had just done.

Inside the large room, a table had been placed in the centre, with five chairs placed evenly around it. Everyone else, except Jonathan and Zac, had already arrived and taken their seat. Avery was also there, standing behind Jeff, seemingly as his new offsider.

Their eyes locked for a moment, Avery's usual cold and distant demeanour disappeared for a moment. He gave a slight smile and a nod of respect, that Anton returned, before returning to his usual self.

Bertram finished talking with his son and motioned for Anton to take a seat.

“Anywhere in particular?” Anton asked.

Bertram shook his head.

“I don't think there's any need for that.”

Anton took the seat next to him. Verona followed, standing on the side opposite of Bertram. She looked a little uncomfortable, twisting her back as subtly as she could.

He turned to look at her.

She mouthed 'I'm fine', so as to not let the others know.

Anton lent back into the chair.

Bertram lent towards Anton. He felt Verona tense ever so slightly as Bertram got closer.

“I was surprised that you decided to go this way, getting everyone to work together.”

Perhaps this is a time to let slip some more 'recovered memories'.

“I remember something like this. A government...I just know that it worked, so long as everyone worked for the betterment of their fellow humans. It stopped working well after a time. I think we can do better than that though.”

“Let's hope we don't become like your memories. Any idea where you came from originally?”

“None yet.”

Bertram pursed his lips, nodded and lent back into his chair.

A few moments later the door opened again. Zac, Jonathan and his children came in.

“Sorry we're late.” Jonathan apologized. “Getting these two up so early is a bit of a challenge, and I don't want to leave them on their own. Especially after yesterday.”

Anton felt a bit sick in his stomach, knowing that Jeffrey and his cronies were still out there.

“That will be one of the points for discussion today,” Bertram said, motioning for both to take a seat.

Jonathan's kids sat on his lap. Both waved when they saw Anton, which he returned.

Bertram looked at each of them.

“Let us begin then.” He pulled out several sheets of paper.

“First item: Resources and weapons.”

Bertram handed a sheet to Jeff, who glanced at it, then passed it around. When it made it to Zac he passed it straight back to Bertram. Everyone here must have known that both of them cannot read. Verona seemed a bit miffed, though her face showed understanding.

“For the benefit of myself, is there anything that needs attention?”

“Provided that we don't have any more fire-storms, we should be good until spring,” Bertram answered.

“What are the winters like here? Just cold or does it snow?”

“Snow, lots snow. Almost up to your knees on a bad one. Still some time away, we're barely in Summer at the moment.”

Anton was thankful that he did not have the cold and whatever nasties came out during that time.

“Anything else?” Anton asked.

Jonathan raised his hand.

“If I am entirely honest, I have just about run out of coal for the forge. We used to get them from a town to the south....but they are not here anymore.”

“Can you use wood?” Anton asked, not knowing what could be used for fuel here.

“I guess we could,” Jonathan answered while scratching the back of his head, “I would need quite a bit and I do not want to have the trees around the village cut down.”

“There's that forest to the west.” Anton chimed in.

Zac grunted and shook his head.

“It would take nearly a day to get there and back. And we would need to use one of the carts to get enough wood and people to cut down enough tree and dry them. That would slow the stone collection too.”

“So, how much have you got?” Bertram asked.

“About a seven to eight days worth, if I use everything I can. Then I will be out.”

“I think we should continue as normal,” Anton said. “This whole thing will probably not last a week....seven days.”

Everyone went silent. This council must have given them a distraction from the reality pushing down from the north.

“I agree,” Bertram continued where Anton had finished, “I think, Jonathan, you should continue as normal. Also, use the scrap ore that we recovered as best you can.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a long thin piece of grey rock wrapped tightly in some leaves. It turned out to be a crude pencil. He wrote something on a piece of paper and placed it back in front of him.

“That brings us to issue number 2; the Yellow Goblins. Our scouting failed, so-”

“Let's not provoke them just yet,” Anton said, interrupting Bertram. “We should keep an eye out along the first two ridges as an early warning.”

“When will we attack then?” Jeff asked. Before he looked fairly disinterested, but now he held a fire in his eyes.

“Our strength is our walls and defences, and that will only get stronger with time,” Anton answered, “Now that we know they can use arrows...we would be torn apart on the plains.”

Jeff did not look that happy.

“We aren't just going to leave them alone to do as they please. We will make them come to us on our terms. Let them break themselves upon us, then we can destroy where they live. A few flame pillars in the mountain will be a good start at getting back at them.” Anton answered. Somehow he knew that Verona was smiling.

“Yes, but when?” Jeff asked, leaning forward.

“If I may,” Jeff did not oppose Anton, “Not for at least a week. That way the walls should be far taller and stronger, and you'll have whipped the villagers into shape. And we'll have all the weapons we can get. How many soldiers do we have by the way?”

Jeff seemed satisfied and lent back. He looked at Avery, who lent and whispered something into his ear.

“After the attack, we've had more people talking about starting to join the defences. We've got almost five hundred people, which is pretty darn good. Another two hundred will train for defence only...just like Zac here.”

Jeff looked at Zac, trying to get a reaction out of him, but got nothing.

“I'm doing my bit,” Zac said, keeping his arms folded. “By the way, everything's fine with the wall, not that you asked. The people working there won't need to do training, they'll get enough exercise. We're also working on fixing the houses, but we're going to need new timber soon. Only so much we can do with reclaimed stuff.”

Everyone took that as the end of that issue. Bertram shuffled uncomfortably.

“Since that seems to be the end of that, onto issue 3...internal issues.”

Jeff and Bertram appeared to look uncomfortable while Jonathan and Zac wore a look of determination. Everyone knew what that meant.

I wonder what they would say if they knew I was almost killed by a cultist. Let's see how this pans out first.

Bertram was the first one to speak.

“We can't just kill him,” he said, “like some sort of animal.”

“Why not?” Zac replied, his voice cold and without emotion.

“He is hardly a good person,” Jonathan added, hugging his children close.

Hardly a good first reaction when his name is mentioned.

Jeff remained silent. He obviously was regretting his choice in friends.

At least Jeff served his purpose of finding out those closest to me feel about something so dramatic.

“I don't think we should do something like that.” Anton chimed in. The others, who looked as if they were about to start a fight, stopped and looked confusingly at him.

“The other day, when they tried to start something, most people looked like they just wanted them gone. We could go into the little enclave in the south, swords and spears raised, or with myself and burn it to the ground. I personally would like to do that...but...it would not make much of an impression with the people, sending the message that everything that opposes this council will be utterly destroyed. Which could work...but not for the long term.”

Everyone looked down in thought.

Verona leaned in, her breath hot in his ear.

“What about Cara then?” she whispered.

Anton shook his head and turned to her.

“Can't yet. Hopefully, it doesn't come up. But thanks for reminding me.”

She smiled sweetly and straightened back up, looking quite happy with herself.

“So what do we do then?” Bertram asked.

“Nothing yet. Keep them contained for now, which I presume is what we're currently doing?”

Jeff and Avery nodded.

“Around eight houses or so around his,” Avery explained, “Got a dozen people watching them, making sure they don't leave.”

“Good. We'll keep them there for now. Unless there's a better idea, other than charging in there and killing them all?”

None appeared to have any suggestions.

“Anything else?” Anton asked. “Wait, how much money did we end up with?”

Zac chuckled.

“We said we would have several gold coins, not so much. Probably worth a single gold coin if you haggled really well.”

“And, that's enough to buy?”

“A small mansion and a decent estate,” Bertram answered.

Anton nodded. At least finance would be secured for the future if they ever get the chance to spend it.

Bertram looked at the papers.

“I think that covers everything important. Just a few minor things left with accurate numbering.” Bertram turned and looked out one of the wooden windows. “Everyone's already getting to work outside. If that's everything, I call the first council meeting to an end.”

“Actually,” Anton interrupted, “We need to address the injured people. I can heal some, but not everyone and especially not if I'm gone.”

“Do you have an idea?” Jeff asked.

“Yes. It's just a thought at the moment. It'll give me something to do today.”

Anton did not go into further detail, everyone else taking this as the end to the meeting.

Bertram and everyone else began to get out of their chairs except Anton.

“Actually,” he began, “I need to ask Jonathan, and your kids, something before you go.”

Bertram, Jeff, Avery and Zac chatted as they left, leaving the five of them alone.

“What's the matter?” Jonathan asked, bringing his children closer to his chest. “Have they done something?”

“No. No. Nothing bad. It's actually about an issue that doesn't need to worry the others.”

Jonathan did not look convinced.

“It was when you were sick. Your kids brought baskets back full of things that looked like leaves and special looking herbs.”

Both children nodded, Jonathan frowned.

“I asked both of them to get help when they got those things,” Jonathan replied.

“What were they?”

“Just a few things that help with wounds; Spring-Blossom, White-leaf and Shimmer Soral. If they're ground up into a paste and put onto a wound, it heals them very quickly. Though, probably not what I had.”

Jonathan smiled and looked relieved at Anton. He brought his children closer again, both smiling that they knew their father was still alive.

“I take it's not too far?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“Most of them are in a little depression just past the bone-yards. They can grow anywhere that's relatively wet, but they are all there in one place. You could not miss it, everything else just looks like grass. Is this what you are going to do?”

“Yes. I think that myself and Verona if she wants to come, should be enough.”

He turned and looked at Verona, she seemed quite enthusiastic.

Anton moved to stand up. Jonathan raised his hand to object.

“That will send you pretty close to Jeffrey and his friends.” He seemed honestly worried. Verona seemed to tense slightly.

“We'll take the longer route. Just need to get a few baskets from Sybil.”

“Right. I am off to keep working then.”

They both left without saying anything else.

---[]---

Sybil had been more than happy to give Anton several large baskets, made from a reed like substance. She held back Verona, when they were leaving, for a few moments before allowing her to rejoin Anton. Neither spoke about it, but Verona still seemed quite happy.

As the site was to the south of Atros, past Jeffrey's hide-out and the bone-yard. It meant that they would have to go around by quite a far margin.

“Which way are we going then?” Verona asked, carrying two baskets in her spare hand.

“We'll head west until we hit the wall, and then head south. That should keep us far away from them.”

They began walking into the sun. Anton's shoes thumped loudly on the stone while Verona's bare feet barely made a sound. There had been no complaints about her lack of footwear but it was becoming an issue. He had no idea of what sort of thorns or burs may be just outside the village.

Verona still did not seem happy. As they passed the second row of houses outside of the main plaza she finally voiced her concerns.

“Is it alright to do nothing?” she asked, “I mean, they...she tried to kill you.”

“And she's dead. Besides, people like that will need to keep performing ever larger acts of violence to keep themselves together.”

“But, all that anger is at you.”

“True.” Anton looked down.

Verona frowned and pouted, not accepting the answer. He rubbed her head and pulled her close.

“I'm not that worried. You saved me last time and I know you can do it again.”

“I did say that, didn't I?” She stopped for a moment. “I still don't get what you're trying to do...but I'll follow you no matter what.”

The flush on her face grew, but neither said anything.

They walked in silence until they reached the western edge of Atros. A small part of the wall had extended this far. It would have done little to stop the Yellow Goblins in the last attack, only being a meter high in most places. Luckily it appeared that they left a gap along the established road to the west for a gate.

A few villagers were on duty, keeping a lookout while others were continuing to build the wall. When they saw Anton some performed some sort of salute while the rest nodded as their greeting. He returned a wave and continued south, following the curve of the wall as it continued to get smaller and smaller. Eventually, it ceased halfway around to the south.

Both walked straight towards the bone-yard pit.

Anton took glances towards the south of Atros as he walked past. He could see a few armed villagers blocking passageways to the centre of the village. A few people, one looking just like one of the instigators from the day before, were trying to accost them, but the armed villagers paid them no heed.

As they passed, someone noticed him. They pointed and talked, quickly gathered the attention of Jeffrey's cultists. Others emerged from the houses, men and women, to gawk and give rude gestures.

Anton waved back. Most of the villagers looking stumped before returning to their homes.

“Why did you do that?” Verona asked.

“Just stirring the pot,” Anton replied.

She looked confused at him but did not press it.

A minute later they passed the bone-yards. Most of the bodies had only just started to decompose, the acrid and nauseating smell burning his nose. He was thankful that the wind never blew north. It was a poignant reminder of what they were fighting.

“Any idea where those plants are?” Verona asked, trying to suppress a gag.

Anton scanned the south, but everything looked like the depressions, just without the bodies.

I should have asked for a description. One was called 'White-leaf', so it should have white leaves. Hopefully.

“Let's keep heading south. The smell here is terrible.” Anton trying to suppress his gag reflexes.

Verona nodded in agreement and started walking, Anton following.

She started to walk quickly, scampering between depressions checking for the plants, but there only seemed to be grass and things that looked like poisonous bushes.

He could not help but notice that she walked with a slight gait, more pronounced when she slowed down.

“Is your back still hurting?”

“Only when I touch it.” She stopped and stretched her back, swinging her arms left and right. “It's not too bad when my clothes rub against it.”

Anton still wanted to know what was causing the pain. He hoped that it may have just been a pinched nerve during her sleep, but the fact that the prayer power did not work did not make him feel confident about her future. Already, she was an important person to him.

“Hang on!” Verona exclaimed, “I think I've found it.”

She was pointing to a depression in the immediate distance, a small roughly star-shaped sunken area with darker coloured grass. Small white leaves decorated the edge.
“Fantastic work,” Anton said as they both jogged to the edge.

In the depression, near the bottom, were two plants that Anton hoped were the ones they were looking for.

“Those small ones,” began Verona, “With the pink berries are the Spring-Blossoms and those ones with the almost see through leave are Shimmer Soral.”

“How do you know that?” Anton asked. Verona looked quite proud with herself.

“I told you that I would get smarter,” Verona replied as she bent down and started to pick the White-leaf.

Instead of just ripping them out of the ground she grabbed the knife from her hip and cut just beneath the leaf, leaving the stem intact.

“Make sure you don't get the sap from any of the Spring-Blossom on your hand. Apparently, it burns for some time.”

Anton knelt down, using his hands as best he could and began to remove the leaves.

---[]---

The sun was halfway into the sky, probably about 10 o'clock back on Earth, when they had finally finished. The baskets were overflowing with leaves of all types. They had travelled to a number of depressions before they were full, travelling quite a fair distance further south.

Anton was still quite impressed with Verona. He suspected that she got the information from Sybil, he had not thought to do that. She was trying and exceeding on what she had said the other day about becoming stronger and smarter.

After nearly an hour they were both ready to go home, judging by the way the sweat was beginning to drip off their faces.

Verona hurried out of the depression and waited for Anton to join her.

“So what do you want to do now?” she asked.

Honestly? Get out of this sun, have a cold shower and having some of that liquid fire that Zac drinks.

“Let's just go home for now. Once we get this back, I think that we should try and start to learn how to read and write.”

She squirmed as she looked over towards the village.

“I'll be there too.” Anton teasingly said as he bumped her shoulders.

He lent around to see her face, but she turned away and pouted. It did not last long.

“Alright,” resignation clear in her voice and face. Her face softened to a smile. “The other-”

She stopped mid-sentence. A low groan carried through the air and the ground, emanating from behind them.

Verona snapped her head backwards, dropping the basket onto the ground and grasping her spear with both hands. Anton turned as quickly as he could to find the source.

Out of one of the depressions, almost one hundred meters away, something grey moved. They both glanced at each other as the grey mass continued to grow.

The daylight's rays shone brilliantly against it, revealing it to be thick grey fur. A giant paw erupted from the mass, then another, dragging its mass out into the open.

Anton was shocked by what he saw, and after glancing again at Verona, so was she.

The mass of grey fur, now half the size of an elephant, had a face and body, just like a giant rabbit. Instead of two long teeth and a small twitching nose, this monster had a large snorting bull-like nose with large protruding teeth, that were more appropriate in a tiger. Strangely, the creature had retained its large ears. They hung either side of its head, large torn chunks of missing from not only the ears but the rest of the body.

It was a monster from a bizarre and horrific nightmare.

Slowly the creature moved closer, keeping its head low and using its powerful hind legs to lurch forward.

“What in the name of the gods is that?” Verona hissed at Anton, slowly retreating.

Anton leant down and picked up both baskets that Verona dropped, keeping an eye on the approaching monster. It had already moved over twenty meters in the short time.

“I think that's a Thumper, maybe. A male thumper, at that?”

Verona looked at him quizzically. He motioned with his head towards the male Thumper. Her face went bright red as she figured out what he meant.

She started backing up faster.

“So what does it want?” an element of fear in her voice.

“Judging by how big and scarred it is, it's probably the alpha male of this area. And we're in its territory.”

“So, run?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

The Alpha Thumper stopped with thirty meters between them. From this distance, the drool, and even mist from its breath could be seen with horrifying detail. Its blue eyes began darting between the two.

We're leaving. Just let us go and there'll be nothing to worry about.

Anton grabbed the back of Verona's shirt and pulled harder. He wanted to make it clear they were leaving.

Its head lowered even further, pulling its large body into its powerful hind legs.

Well, that didn't work.

“Verona, get ready!” Anton yelled, preparing five lightning bombs.

The Alpha Thumper leapt with a bestial fury. Claw erupted from its front paws, each as long as a forearm.

He flung the lightning bombs straight into the Alpha Thumper's face in mid-leap. All hit the face, obscuring the beast in a cloud of blinding light.

The beast fumbled in the air, landing ten meters away.

Verona took a step forward but Anton grabbed her shoulder. It was not dead yet.

The thumper brought a paw and clawed at its face, removing huge chunks of burned fur. Its face was otherwise undamaged.

That many should have blown it apart...Are some things in this world resistant to magic?

After another swipe, the burned flesh had been removed revealing a few places where its skull showed through. It snarled, the whites of the blue eyes turning red in anger.

Verona stood in-front of Anton as he prepared a dozen fireballs. He hoped that the fur would catch fire.

The Alpha Thumper lent back, readying itself to leap again. Anton pushed the fireballs as hard as he could, but they travelled slower than the lightning bombs, colliding with the left side of the beast's neck in mid-jump. The fiery explosion licked around its neck and rapidly spread along its body.

It screamed in pain, digging its feet into the ground as it landed a few meters away, and rolled across the ground to try and put the fire out. The fire was burned through its fur and into its flesh. With each spin the fire died out, little by little.

Anton formed another dozen fire-balls and flung them at the struggling creature. As each connected with its left side it roared in pain. It tried to leap away but could not, it's left side rendered useless by the fire. After the eighth, it no longer tried to escape, now just whimpering and trying to cover its burning side.

Verona quickly advanced on the struggling creature, spear raised over her head.

The Alpha Thumper looked at her, its rage replaced by fear. Its entire left side was charred and useless. A few patches of fur were still burning, but it did not seem to care.

With a warrior's cry, Verona jumped and brought the spear into the back of its neck. It barely made a whimper as the spear punctured its skin, spine and throat. A paw tried to swipe at her, three claws slicing her cheek from back to front. She said nothing as she stood on its head, twisting the spear and opening the wound.

After a final weak and blood filled cough, the monster quivered and died.

Verona stood upon its head for some time, not worrying about the blood was pouring down her face. She ripped the spear from the Alpha Thumper's neck and hopped down next to him.

“Why did the lightning not work?” she asked, using a spare hand to cover her wound.

“Maybe it has some sort of resistance to magic, or lightning at least,” Anton replied as he placed his hand over her wounded face. “I'll just patch that up.”

The mana flowed through him and into Verona. He could feel the wound close underneath his hand. Just like in the morning, it felt like every other time, perhaps requiring a bit more than he expected.

When he removed his hand she brought her own up and touched her face. She smiled, seemingly glad that she would not have a massive scar.

“Does your back still hurt?”

She nodded furiously.

“Quite allot right now, probably like when I first touched it.”

Verona poked the head of the Alpha Thumper with the point of her spear.

“Does your magic no longer work?”

She wore her usual grin. He knew she was teasing but there was still some truth to it.

“Can you hand me your knife?”

He grabbed the knife and knelt down in front of its face. The lightning bombs that would have blown apart a Yellow Goblin made some deep injuries to its face, some deep enough to tear apart the muscles and expose the bone, but not damage or break it. The fire had followed the same pattern, causing some damage but not enough to kill it instantly.

Using the knife, he carved into damaged the flesh around the neck. It was stronger than the Yellow Goblin's but not considerably more so. The flesh looked normal as well.

Verona walked back and began to put the leaves into the baskets.

Just as was about to lose interest, something caught his eye as he continued to carve into the flesh, It was not noticeable in the damaged sections, but he could see thin purple layers within the muscle. There were only three, evenly spread throughout the flesh and easily damaged.

Generating a small flame in his hand, he tried to burn it. The regular flesh withered and roasted easily but this did not. It slowly deformed, but nowhere as quickly.

A small strand hung of an end of the chunk of flesh. It tore like wet paper when he tried to get grab some with his hands. Eventually, he settled on carving out a large chunk of flesh, about the size of his fist, to take back for study. The blood was warm and oozed onto his hand.

Verona had finished collecting the materials and looked quite bemused by Anton's actions.

“You got something?”

He stood up and showed Verona the thin purple layers.

“And they are?”

“Something that seems to slow and inhibit my magic. It doesn't seem to stop it and is extremely fragile.” He proved this by damaging the flesh by brushing against it.

She still looked confused.

“Maybe we can put this under a shield for magic armour.”

Verona looked down in thought, quickly looking up and smiling. She seemed to understand.

“It's just...”Anton looked back at the dead creature, “Why would it need this. It's not something you just have for no good reason.”

He looked out past the Alpha thumper. There were more depressions, some looking like they may hold more Thumpers. Beyond that was an open grassland with some small shrubs, merging with forest wall that ran along the western side of Atros and beyond sight to the south.

“We should probably go and see if we can preserve this somehow. I don't want to come back here any-time soon. How those kids made it here and back is a mystery.”

He grabbed some of the larger leaves still on the ground and wrapped the flesh in it as best he could. They both turned and started to walk back to the village.

“Maybe they don't like it when you stay too long. We were there for some time...and we collected quite a lot of leaves.”

Verona's explanation seemed a good guess to Anton. He nodded in agreement, both smiling at each other.

---[]---

When they made it back to the main plaza, Sybil was waiting outside the main hall with several of the older women. The moment that Verona came into view, she stopped talking and ran towards them both as quickly as she could.

“Verona dear, what happened to you?” she asked, her sweet older voice so much more pleasant than the one from the other day.

Verona looked briefly at Anton, before looking over herself. Her hand made contact with the collar of her shirt, the same side as the gash on her cheek. The blood had dried but it was still looked somewhat fresh. More importantly, she did not have the blood when she left.

“Oh, this? We...had an incident with a massive Thumper. Tried to kill us so...” Verona left it at that.

“Those creatures are usually so peaceful,” Sybil looked towards Anton and frowned, “What did you do to make it angry?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “We took on a massive male. I think we were in its territory for far too long. I take it that the young and females are the flighty ones?”

Sybil nodded.

“How long did you stay there?” One of the other women asked.

“Pretty much as long as we were gone, apart from getting there and back.”

“That would do it. Nasty teeth.” The other woman continued.

Anton agreed. Sybil and the other women did not look to happy but did not press further.

Their attention turned to the baskets.

“Oh, you got them,” Sybil said excitedly, inspecting the baskets. “All three. Thank-you, both of you. I'll get these to the sick.”

“And you need to get a change of clothes.” She pointed at Verona then at Anton. “And you need to look after her better.”

“I am,” Anton replied, somewhat insulted. He softened his face before speaking again. “Actually, we could use some help from you.”

Sybil raised an eyebrow but remained quiet.

“I need to learn how to read and write in this world, and so does this one.” Anton nudged Verona. She looked away in embarrassment.

“I can help with that, but let's get these to the people who need it first. I'll show you how to make these healing salves. Always good to know how to make this stuff, can't all have magic.”

Sybil and the other woman grabbed the baskets and headed over to one of the large barns. The barn door was open and he could see villagers lying inside. They were covered in bandages and some still had bloody wounds.

Anton raised the leafy packet.

“Let me just put this in the room for now. I want to have a look at it properly later.”

Verona nodded and followed Sybil, Anton hurrying to join both of them.

---[]---

Meanwhile, in the south of Atros, Jeffrey was in the middle in welcoming his new followers. The previous night he just got them settled in. Now, he wanted to properly greet them. Out of the forty plus people that had lost someone, only fifteen had decided to listen to him.

Nonetheless, he was glad.

More people are seeing the correct path, the one where I will save them from this disaster. About time, still not enough.

All of those that would listen, almost forty of his followers, had gathered in his house. It was a tight squeeze, but they managed. Jeffrey stood upon a chair, to elevate him in stature and authority to those around him and began again.

“I cannot express how...deeply moved I am by your pain. Your loss. Your suffering. All because of one twisted and vile man...who used your lost ones as a human shield.”

He paused for a moment, letting the imagery sink in.

“But, through such a tragic time, we have come together. Together, against a man that puts those that you love in front of him, like a shield of bodies. Here, today, we will begin to take back our homes and our fellow people from the hands of that devious mage and those that follow him. For those we have lost!”

A cheer erupted throughout the crowd.

“How?” asked a tall and willowy woman.

“He's a mage, and nearly everyone else follows his word.”

You aren't one of mine...I'll be sure to 'thank' you later. You look familiar though...

Jeffrey shook his hands.

“They may 'follow' him, but only because of his 'ability' to twist their minds.”

She and others looked confused.

“You've seen it, haven't you. Those that you know were strong of heart and mind, ones that would not bow to anyone, all of a sudden taking his orders and doing everything he beckons. Do you think that's natural? Do you think that's right?!”

“No!” cried the woman, as did several others.

“I have a plan,” Jeffrey triumphantly proclaimed, throwing both hands into the air and touching the wooden roof.

“What we need to do, is turn everyone against him, so he stands alone. So much so that not even his mind tricks can save him. Then we can get this village back under control.”

“And how do we do that?” another person asked.

“Hunger,” Jeffrey said triumphantly. “Not even the best tricks will work on someone that's starving. That's how we take his little kingdom away from him.”

Everyone looked like they agreed with him. The woman raised her hand.

“But...they've got people watching us all time. And, I know that there are quite a number of guards...all that follow that mage.”

Jeffrey stepped down and approached the woman, lightly grabbing her arms.

“Who did you lose?”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“My sister Cara, during the attack. I asked the guards about her but they say she must be dead. No one has seen anything.”

She could barely hold back her tears. He embraced her, her body quivering before exploding in tears.

You people are so easy...

“It's okay,” he said, lightly stroking her back. “They will pay for your pain.”

He turned to face the others.

“But tonight, we should celebrate. Get ready to do what we need to do tomorrow.”

A few of his original followers brought out mugs of alcohol, quickly handing them out.

He was about to join in when someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was the young man that worked with him at the beginning.

I should probably try to learn your name.

“Forgive me,” Jeffrey tried with as much humility as he could muster, “What was your name again?”

“Charles.” the man replied. “I have more information on what Anton has been up to.”

Jeffrey looked around. The people appeared to be enjoying the drink, even the woman with the sister. They quickly started chatting, some laughing.

“They look they'll be able to take care of themselves for now. Let's take this in the other room.”

Both entered a small storage room and closed the door.

“What have you got to report, especially about my little 'concern'.”

Charles scratched his arm uncomfortably. He was a small man, at least compared to Jeffrey.

He detailed everything that he knew about Verona's actions and movements.

As he continued explaining, Jeffrey's face lost its colour. It turned completely pale when he described Anton and Verona walking back together from the south. He had seen them walking together, chatting and laughing.

Jeffrey lost it.

“Why?!” he screamed over and over while smashing everything he could.

“Why does she listen to him? I even got those three idiots to point out the truth...and she did nothing.”

“Why didn't you do it?” Charles asked.

Jeffrey froze.

“I...I would have...but going against a mage in a crowd full of his crazed supporters isn't going to keep me alive...or get what I need to get done.”

“I thought they were being controlled somehow?”

Jeffrey grabbed Charles by the shoulder and throat.

“Don't ever question me.” He growled at Charles.

Charles whimpered and nodded furiously.

“Good.” Jeffrey released his grip. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“Then go out there and have a drink.”

“I think I'll just get some sleep if it's all the same to you.”

Charles pushed past Jeffrey and dived through the revelling crowd. Most appeared to be quite drunk and some appeared to be getting very friendly.

I should probably get out there myself. It was a pity that...what was her name...Cara failed. Oh well, there's that new woman.

He found her alone in a corner, slowly sipping on the drink. Her eyes seemed misty, mouth slightly agape and her face was starting to go red.

Perfect. Putting in a little bit of River-Rush certainly did the trick. Time to introduce her to myself personally.

As he made his way to her, he knew this would be a good day.

---[]---

Night had descended over Atros. Activity on both fronts had been extremely quiet. That had allowed Anton and Verona to focus on their studies.

Sybil had finished teaching Anton and Verona as much as she could for one night. She had left them alone after spending most of the afternoon and night teaching both of them.

Preparing the salves was incredibly easy, basically grinding the leaves into a paste and then applying it to the wound. While it did not heal like the prayer magic, after a few hours there was a noticeable improvement. Anton was quite impressed.

Later on, she started to teach them the written language. It seemed to be fairly simple, almost identical structurally the same to English. Anton had been told to try reading while helping Verona as best he could. She was learning very quickly, already having learned a few letters. She did not seem to like doing it though.

Anton closed the book he was reading. From what he could tell it was some sort of children’s fairy-tale, involving a prince and some sort of heroic quest. It seemed like the usual sort of inspiring tale, though Anton was more impressed that he could understand some of it. He laid on the bed while Verona sat on the table.

The parcel of flesh remained on the table a foot away from her. The leaves had leaked a little blood. Anton had wrapped it up again with some spare rags. His plan was to try prying it apart tomorrow when he had more energy and attention.

Verona did not seem to mind, though she fidgeted in her chair.

“Mmmm!”

She was still trying hard to learn how to read.

“This is so hard!”

“You aren't going to learn it in a day.” Anton reminded her.

She turned and looked angrily at him.

“You did...so why can't I.”

The temptation to take a jab at her was immense, but Anton held it back.

“I can already read and write, just not in this language.”

She still looked annoyed. “Well, I can read numbers at least. They make sense.”

She closed the book and stood up and stretched, letting out a sigh of relief when she was done. Without saying anything she walked over to her side of the bed and began to remove her villager clothes.

“You could at least say something.” Anton blurted out as he turned away.

“I'm tired.” Verona stifling a yawn, “Especially after today. Fighting that thumper took it out of me.”

“You only got in one hit.”

“And I killed it.”

“Did fighting really take it out of you?” Anton asked sincerely.

There was a silence for a moment.

“Okay, I'm done.”

Anton turned to look at her, she was wearing the same clothes that she slept in last night. She flopped into the bed next to him, the bed creaking quite loudly.

“It did,” Verona continued, looking at him sincerely, “The other day, when the Yellow Goblins attacked, I felt fine for the whole day. I didn't want to say anything, but even walking to get those herbs took it out of me.”

She opened up and wriggled underneath the skin cover, turning towards him. “Hopefully I'll be better in the morning.”

A small hopeful smile graced her face. Right now she looked incredibly vulnerable, in all manner of the word.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and poured as much prayer magic as he could.

This time he tried his best to feel through the mana connection. Everything felt as it should, at least that what the connection was telling him. He searched through her body, checking every part he could find. In her back, just below her shoulder blades, he felt something. It felt odd, different from anything else he felt before, like a single grain of sand. Just as he reached out to grab it, it disappeared, melting back into the rest of her body. No matter how much he searched for it he could not find it again.

His mana started to run out, so he withdrew his hand.

“Oh, that was interesting,” Verona said smugly.

“You could feel it?” he asked gingerly.

“Yeah, it was really strange,” she smirked and nuzzled into the pillow, “It wasn't unpleasant, though.”

“Well, I couldn't find anything still. Your back still hurting?”

She moved about, nodding as she winced in pain.

“Let's hope it's better in the morning.”

He closed the book he was trying to read, placing it on the floor and got underneath the covers himself.

“Goodnight Verona.”

“Goodnight.” came a sleepy reply.

By the time Anton turned his head to look at her, she was already asleep. He turned and looked up at the ceiling.

I don't like the feeling of that thing. I just hope it's nothing bad.

Chapter 012 - Vol 1

Chapter 012:

Pain. Pain surged through Anton's mind, ripping him awake from his peaceful slumber. Adrenaline surged through his blood to his brain, forcing his eyes open.

An arm smacked him in the face. Thoughts of being murdered flooded his mind again. He reached out and grabbed the arm by the wrist.

It was soft and warm, but there was no strength trying to force it down. The fingers were trying to claw at something, but not his hand.

He looked along the arm to find its source. It was Verona, engaged in some sort of struggle with an invisible force. Arms and legs were flailing around, her breathing was ragged and body drenched in sweat.

“Hey!” Anton yelled, but got no reaction.

Sorry about this.

Not really knowing why he leaned over and slapped her hard on the face.

Her eyes shot open and swirled around.

Gasping for breath, she threw her covers off and tried to crawl frantically towards the wall. Anton still held her hand, bringing both of them very close. Her arm lost all strength as she curled closer to him. She breathed rapidly, eyes darting around the room. Sweat poured out of her face.

He let her arm go, which she brought into her chest.

A few moments passed and her breathing appeared to calm. Anton brought his hand over her head. For an instant she recoiled, but relaxed when she realized whose it was.

“Are you okay?” he asked, slowly stroking her hair.

“I had a crazy, terrifying dream,” she dragged herself up so her back rested against the wall, “There were skies made of fire, everyone I knew was burning and melting around me. And there was something at the centre of it all. They were untouched...and it stared straight at me. Then I woke up.”

She rubbed her face with her hands, suppressing a sniffle.

“You didn't have to hit me.”

She's probably right.

“I really didn't want you to injure yourself, you were getting pretty violent.”

She looked down at her side of the bed. Everything had been thrown about during her struggle.

“Hmm.”

Verona stretched both her arms and back. A whimper came out when she bent her back, bringing the fabric tight along her spine.

“I thought that would have been fixed by now.” Verona despondently commented on herself. “You used a lot of mana, and somehow it still did nothing.”

“Do you want to sleep in a bit more?”

“Absolutely not,” she said as she shook her head, “I do not want to have another fit again. Especially if I'm alone.”

She shuffled off the bed. Her gait looked a little off, but a few steps later she seemed to have recovered.

“I'm getting changed now, so...you know the drill.”

Anton did not have to say anything. They both dressed in silence.

After they were done, he realized that it quite late in the morning. Someone from the council should have gotten him but he had not heard anything.

“Don't forget your armour.” Anton said, turning to Verona, “It's a good precaution.”

“Then you need to help me with the chest piece then.”

They quickly got dressed and ready for the next day.

---[]---

The Council meeting was well under way by the time they arrived.

When he opened the door he saw that everyone already had arrived. They stopped talking and looked straight at him.

“'Bout time you two got here.” Jeff blurted out. “We were getting worried that, on day two of this thing, you had already given up and decided to sleep in.”

The others smiled.

“I have no idea how you wake up so early so consistently,” Anton replied.

“Lots of practice,” Jeff said as he leaned back into his chair.

“Well, is there anything critical that I missed?”

Bertram shook his head.

“Actually very little. No movement from the south or north. Construction of defences and weapons are going at faster than expected. We're doing quite well.”

“That's excellent then,” Anton said as he took his seat.

“Zac and Jonathan actually were in the middle of discussing one of the objects found during the scouting mission,” Bertram explained.

Zac unfolded his arms.

“To the south-east, there's a group of towers. If I'm right, they're Obsidian Towers. Not sure what they really are, whether they are actually made from obsidian or not, but the pieces should be extremely strong. Since you seem to be our resident scavenger, I wanted you to get some pieces.”

Zac looked towards Jonathan.

“We'll use it for the wall and armour, if we can make it work.” Zac continued. Jonathan appeared to agree with this idea.

“I think I've got my job for the day. I'll need to borrow some soldiers and a cart then.”

“I'll get some ready then,” Jeff said. “I heard about the Thumper the other day. That's why we go out in groups.”

“Anything else?” Anton asked.

“We have seen a single Yellow Goblin on the fourth ridge towards the mountain. It just watched for a little while and ran away when it noticed we were watching it as well.”

Anton frowned. He suspected that this would happen eventually, the Yellow Goblins scouting the area, but it still did not make him feel good.

“Well,” Anton moved in his seat, “we knew that it would happen eventually. If it's just the one, it looks like they're quite scared of what happened here, but not going to give up.”

“Just wait them out for now?” Jeff asked.

“I'm afraid so. It shouldn't be much longer now.”

Bertram coughed lightly to gain attention. “By the way, Anton, thank-you for getting the herbs. Most of the people are now well on the mend. We've got almost a seasons worth stored, even in the event of an all-out war.”

“It's not a problem.” Anton replied, “Let's get this day under-way then.”

The others did not seem so enthusiastic.

---[]---

Half an hour later the expedition was ready. A single cart, with a driver and six heavily armed villagers, four male and two female, would accompany Anton and Verona.

The villagers seemed a little nervous. For most of them, it would be the first time they had left the village in their whole lives.

Jeff and Zac were there as well, trying their best to placate the villagers, with varying degrees of success.

Zac turned away from the villagers and walked over to Anton.

“You sure about this whole thing?” Zac asked. “I didn't actually know if you wanted to do this.”

“You seemed pretty enthusiastic in the meeting.”

Zac shrugged. “I've had a bit more time to think it over.”

“So it's not worth it?”

“Oh no, it is,” A smile returning to his face, “It's not as strong as metals like Adamantian, but for something that can be found just lying on the ground, it should be pretty good.”

“So why the change?” Verona asked, “If you thought it was so good.”

Zac scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.

“Well, bodies of water are not the safest place, even if they look beautiful.”

“So, what am I expecting?”

“Um...not really sure. I know that you're not meant to go too close, not for anything like a swim. Strong boats are fine. That's why we need to use wells for water.”

“I'll keep an eye out,” Anton replied. The fact there might be monsters crawling out of the water was not a pleasant one.

“Well, good luck. I've got to get back to work.”

Zac held out his hand, which Anton shook. He turned and walked away. Verona turned to Anton and grabbed his arm.

“I'm sure it'll be fine,” he said, patting her hand.

Jeff had just finished talking with the other villagers. They started to load themselves onto the cart.

“Looks like it's time to go.” Anton turned and got onto the back of the cart.

Verona tried, but she could not pull herself up. Her face scrunched in pain, and it looked like her back still sore. The nightmare had probably taken her mind off her pain, at least until now.

He hopped down and lifted her up, underneath her arms and onto the cart. Her faced flushed as some of the other villagers started whistling. All smiled inanely as Anton climbed back on. He said nothing.

Verona and the other villagers sat down while Anton stood.

The cart groaned as the Ix beast was finally ordered to move. It jeered and bumped as it slowly made its way over the stone and dirt road. Anton did not look forward to how it would feel out on the open and uneven grassland.

“Hey, Anton.”

Anton looked down to his right, Jeff was walking alongside them.

“Just finished talking to one of the scouts that covered that area. You should get there, at your current speed, just after mid-day.”

They both looked towards the slow lumbering beast.

“Can this thing go any faster?” Anton asked the driver.

The driver looked back at him with a massive, toothy grin.

“Sure!” the man chuckled, “Just hope you haven't had anything to eat yet.”

“Why-?”

The driver whipped the reigns furiously, the beast let out a tremendous roar. The entire cart lurched forward, Anton falling backwards and landing on a female villager. His head landing backwards into her chest.

“Bloody hell. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, easy does it now.” the woman said teasingly as she helped him back up. Contact between the two did last some time, as the woman brushed him down as he stood up.

“Play nice Anton!” Jeff yelled, now running alongside but dropping back quickly.

Jeff dropped to a walk, waving them off along with several other villagers.

Anton sat down next to Verona. She seemed a little annoyed but relaxed and smiled as he sat.

The cart continued to creak and groan, occasionally hitting a large dip in the ground and flinging the passengers around. The villagers did not look happy, especially knowing that they would have to endure a few more hours. Worse yet, it had only been a few minutes.

Anton was already regretting his decision. He still had the strange layers of flesh harvested from the Alpha Thumper to look into. That would have been far more interesting.

I just hope I still have my stomach when we get there.

---[]---

“Oh my God!” Verona blurted out as she threw up once again. She and everyone else, including Anton's, were leaning over the stationary cart. He had no idea that he could get so violently ill from the rough ride.

The cart had arrived a hundred meters from the shore of the lake, but Anton did not care. He also did not care that they appeared to be over an hour early. The only thing on his mind was trying to get his body back in working condition.

The driver, annoyingly, seemed completely fine. The moment they stopped he, and he alone, hoped off the beast and took the time to enjoy the scenery.

“That is truly beautiful, isn't it?” the driver asked.

Anton tried to make a meaningful response but only gave a dreary groan. He turned the prayer power into himself and took the edge off the nausea. It took quite a bit of mana to help everyone else, Verona even more so. By the time she started to look better, he had used almost a fifth of his mana on her alone.

Can someone become immune to magic, like resistance to a drug? I certainly hope not.

The thought was not pleasant, considering how often he had to use mana on himself. Since it was only Verona that appeared to be suffering, he suspected that it was not the case. It did not help him figure out what was happening to her. The idea of a mana based illness started to float through his mind.

Gods? Please give me something. Some advice, guidance, anything.

He was not surprised when nothing came.

The villagers had recovered and made their way to the driver. Verona still looked a little groggy, so she accepted Anton's help getting her down. Her mouth opened to say something, but it dropped as she looked towards the lake.

Words failed him. Ever since arriving he had seen the inside of poor wooden buildings, dirt, stone, blood and death. Only a few days had made him yearn for something so bright.

The lake extended for as far as he could see, Clear crystal blue water slowly washed over the golden sand. The beach stretched around the entire lake, as far as he could see.

In the centre, several kilometres away, stood the Obsidian Towers. They were several hundred meters tall and dark brown, contrasting brilliantly with the light water. The towers themselves were not straight, they looked like tiles that had been badly laid on-top of one another.

There were twelve standing, with another six that looked like they had fallen over into the water. Between the ones that still stood there appeared to be some sort of bridge, made from the same material as the pillars. The pillars next to the ones that had fallen down had short stumps where the bridges had been. He had no idea if it was natural or artificial.

Near the shoreline, there were large dark-brown rocks. They appeared to be flat and completely smooth, judging by the way the light shone and the water ran off. That must be what he was sent to get.

“Truly beautiful,” Anton said. “Alright, two of you stay here and guard the cart.”

“What about me?” the driver asked.

“You too. Just stay with that terrifying beast and make sure it's ready for the trip back.”

The driver saluted, dashing back to the Ix and stroking its face. The beast calmed down and began to eat the grass. He turned to Anton and gave him the thumbs up. Apparently, he knew what he was doing.

“The rest of us, we'll start collecting those stone shards. And be careful near the water's edge, I don't want to have to deal with any nasties that crawl out.”

There was some argument amongst the villagers on who would stay. Eventually, the two women were elected to stay and guard. The other four quickly ran towards the sand, all seeming quite excited.

Anton turned to Verona. Her mouth was still agape at the sight of so much water. Noticing that he was watching, she closed her mouth and tried to not look interested.

“It's...I've never seen so much water in my whole life. So blue.” her voice trailed off at the end.

“It's not going to come to you, you know,” Anton said as he grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to the beach. He was sure that she said something but did not ask.

The moment her bare feet touched the sand she stopped, pulling her hand free. Her toes wiggled, letting the sand permeate over her feet.

She giggled something that he never thought he would hear from her, and started skipping through the sand. Great plumes of wet sand flew with every step, some landing on Anton.

“Sorry,” she sputtered, running up to him, “This is awesome!”

Verona's foot clipped the edge of a rock, causing her to tumbled towards him. He held out his arms and caught her loosely, her head thumping softly into his chest.

“Are you two going to help or just flirt?” One of the men yelled out. He and another villager had already started to collect the brown shards. There were some snickers amongst the others.

Both flushed in embarrassment, letting go of each other and giving awkward smiles.

Near where they stood was a large piece of the stone. He motioned for Verona to grab the other side. The edges were quite sharp but not enough to cut through the skin. What was the most surprising was the weight, it felt unbelievably heavy. Anton had to put quite a bit of force to lift, Verona looking just as surprised as he was. He was sure that her smaller frame and body would have trouble, but she appeared to be doing better than Anton.

The surface of the stone, on all sides, was completely devoid of the feature. When the light struck it at a low angle, small dark swirls emerged covering the entire slab.

Once they got it back to the cart, having to stop several times to get a better grip, Anton got the knife from Verona. He tried to cut into the stone but no matter how hard he tried it could not be damaged. Tiny flakes of metal had been left on the slab, transference from the blade.

“They look tough,” Verona commented.

“No wonder Zac wanted these. A bit heavier than I thought.”

Verona pulled Anton to the side as a pair of villagers loaded another slab.

“How are they going to use it?” Verona asked. “You can't cut it or scratch it like a normal stone.”

Anton shrugged. “Perhaps they'll just smash it to little pieces or just use them as is.”

She seemed to take that as a sufficient answer, moving back towards the beach.

Together they all loaded the cart until it started to sink into the dirt, almost a third full

“I think that'll do,” Anton told the others. Everyone looked quite pleased despite their tiredness. Under an hour had passed but the pieces had been quite heavy.

The driver looked around, increasingly worried.

“We should go as soon as we can.” the driver said. His usual demeanour had changed, now he looked quite afraid.

“What's wrong?” one of the female villagers asked.

The driver pointed at the Ix. Its head was darting left to right, breathing heavily and stomping its front hooves.

“They usually don't do this.” the driver explained. “Only when scared shitless.”

Anton did not wait to hear what would make the beast so scared. He hopped onto the cart and scanned the surroundings.

He could not immediately see anything.

A subtle but sharp smell filled his nose, the smell of rotting flesh.

The wind is coming from the south, so...

He turned, and so did the others. The grass to the south was quite tall, almost a meter high in some places. As the wind blew, so did the grass. There may have been something moving amongst them but it was impossible to tell.

The others encircled the cart, focusing their attention to the south.

Slowly, the wind died down. Most of the grass stopped, but some pieces move for a moment before stopping.

“Is there something there?” Verona asked.

“Maybe.”

“Can't you just set fire to it?” the driver asked, placing himself in front of the still panicking Ix.

Anton shook his head. “I'll probably set fire to everything else.”

He waited and watched. The wind did not pick up again but eventually, the grass started to move.

Grey masses started to accompany the movements. There were dozens of grey blobs moving through the grass towards them.

Oh no...

For a terrifying moment he thought that they were Thumpers, but they were too small.

As the grass thinned out, it became clear it was far worse. Pointed ears, snouts and bared teeth began to emerge.

They were wolves, about a meter tall and two long. The tips of their ears were white, and their eyes were a toxic green. Otherwise, they were identical to the ones he knew about on Earth.

Their heads and body slinked low as they emerged from the grass, shoulders exaggerated by their slow and calculated movements. Dozens emerged from the grass, all snarling and snapping as they began to fan out and encircle them.
A villager whimpered at the sight, the faint smell of urine permeated the air.

Anton stepped down and walked towards the terrified villager. He placed his hand on the villager's shoulder.

“It's okay. Just breath as best you can.” The villager shook, presumably not having taken a breath for some time.

He appeared to calm down. Thankfully none of the others had pointed it out. If there was a later they probably would. It was just a case of making sure there was one.

Anton felt his heart begin to race. He did not want to see those teeth anywhere near him.

“Grey wolves.” The driver muttered.

“How many?” Verona asked, the pack continuing to leave the cover of the long grass.

“A little under thirty I guess.” Anton replied, “I had no idea packs could get this big.”

“You should have seen them before they were culled all those years ago.” the driver added, seemingly recovering some of his confidence, though Anton could not figure out why.

The pack had spread out into a crescent formation, slowly advancing. None seemed willing to be the first one to attack. Occasionally the glint from the villager's weapons would pierce their eyes. For a moment they would snarl louder and take a step back, but only a step before continue to advance.

Anton prepared the lightning, letting it bubble in his hands.

“I'll use as many lightning bolts as I can, then follow up with the lightning bombs. Everyone, just take care of any that make it through.”

The other villagers nodded and readied their weapons, the grey wolves halting their advance as if they could sense the hostility.

Verona did not look like she was worried, her spear was still upright.

“Are you ready?” Anton asked her.

Verona lowered her spear and charged. The grey wolves looked confused, for only a moment, before charging themselves.

“Wh-” was all that Anton could manage to say.

What is wrong with her?

Anton fired lightning bolts at the grey wolves either side of Verona. It was not an accurate art, many striking the ground, with multiple bolts striking the same beast. Their bodies twitched as the bolt struck their bodies. The next moment they crumpled forward dead.

He only managed to hit a dozen, leaving almost twenty still running at Verona. The rest converged on Verona, her body making aiming accurately extremely difficult.

Verona had not appeared to have noticed. The closest wolf, straight in front, lunged at her. She raised her spear, stabbing through its mouth and out its skull. Two more came from either side. Her head did not move as she turned the spear lengthways, the impaled wolf coming loose, its dead body colliding with another. The spear tip sliced open the wolf on the right while the other's jaw was ripped apart by the shaft colliding with it.

Anton and the villagers watched on stunned. She crouched low, missing a wolf diving over her head but nipping and ripping at her hair. She brought her spear forward and thrust, killing another attacking wolf.

A few tried to encircle her, forgetting about the other humans, and attacked. She rolled forward and spun the spear over her head, the tip slicing but not killing the attackers. Blood sprayed everywhere from the recoiling wolves, dying her and the grass crimson red.

The uninjured wolves stopped, as they watched their fellow beasts writhing and whimpering in pain. Each began to slowly back away from Verona, forming and opening a path towards the tall grass.

Another wolf emerged. This one was nearly twice as large and covered in scars, part of its nose was missing. As it fully emerged the others started to slink back even further. A pack leader.

Verona glanced either side, just enough for Anton to see a bloody and crazed smile.

He started to move sideways so he could get a clear line of sight. The smaller wolves noticed and moved behind Verona. Anton had not practised with trying to turn the lightning bombs as he flung them. Now was not the time to find out if he could.

Some sort of honourable code perhaps? Letting the boss attack uninterrupted, after having lost so many. We've got to do something though.

Anton nudged the closest villagers, seemingly understanding his intentions straight away.

Verona stood up and put out her hand to tell them to stop.

A smaller wolf took the opportunity to attack, her head twitching towards it at the sound of it leaping. She spun her spear around. The end collided with the head of the wolf and sent it flying. The squirming and dying body landed at the base of the pack leader.

The pack leader snarled and rolled the wolf out of its way. Apparently, it wanted to have a fair fight with Verona.

Everyone and everything gave a wide berth of the two squaring off, Verona standing motionless in the puddle of blood and trodden grass while the pack leader closed in.

Something still felt off to him, as if it was not Verona that was fighting the giant wolf by herself. Despite everything, she seemed extremely confident.

The pack leader stopped a few meters from her and refused to get closer. Apparently, it had learned from the others and kept its distance.

Verona lowered her spear, resting the tip on the ground. She turned the tip and dug it into the ground. The pack leader and the other wolves glanced at the spear tip.

She twisted the spear, collecting some sandy dirt and grass on the blade, flicking it at the pack leader. The dirt landed in its eyes, the pack leader recoiling and shaking its head. Verona did not wait. She ran as fast as she could straight at it and pointed her spear at its head.

The wolf saw and tried to duck, the spear smashed into the top of the skull. Blood and fragments of fur flew into the air. The pack leader howled, twisting its head sideways and grabbing the spears' shaft with its teeth.

It pulled down as hard is it could. Verona grunted in annoyance, digging her feet into the ground and refusing to let the spear move. The pack leader pulled and twisted on the spear, but Verona did not budge. It glanced at the other wolves and shook its head at Verona. None appeared willing.

Verona saw this and ripped her spear out of the wolves mouth. She turned the spear around, taking a giant lung forward and bringing the end cracking into the nuzzle of the stunned pack leader. The nose crumpled and the wolf recoiled several steps as it yelped in pain.

She lunged again, striking it in the chest. The wolf spluttered and ripped itself free. Blood seeped from the wound in its chest and dyed its fur red.

It staggered for a few steps, crumpling onto its front paws. Verona ran and leapt into the air to bring down her spear on its head. The wolf dived away just as the spear touched its neck, Verona impaling the spear into the dirt.

She reached into her waist, bringing out the knife and threw it at its head. The knife dug into its cheek, the pack leader yelping in pain. The other wolves backed off even further.

The pack leader noticed this and leapt again, the wounds beginning to take effect on its movements. She rolled to the side, bending and ripping the spear from the ground. With all the strength she could muster, she spun around and sliced the back of its head.

The wolf fell lifelessly onto the ground. Half of its face and neck had been torn apart. Verona retracted her spear and with, savage brutality, repeatedly and furiously stabbed the remaining half until it broke.

Everyone and everything looked on, stunned by what they saw.

Anton saw and felt something different. He was sure that the air was different around her, like it was all happening in slow motion. Some of the droplets of blood appeared to slowly spin and hover around her just above the grass.

Verona stepped forward and kicked the severed head towards the stunned wolves. She continued to remain quiet until she turned and growled at the remaining wolves.

With the pack leader dead, its head and body separated and its killer about to attack them, the others panicked and fled. They yelped and dived back into the long grass.

Within moments they had disappeared, as though they had never existed, only leaving bloody corpses strewn around the red and silver girl.

Anton and the others glanced at each other. He was the first one to move forward.

“Are...are you okay?” he asked gingerly.

He honestly expected to be attacked, verbally or otherwise, for being as effective as a statue. Instead, she turned and faced him, wearing what he could only describe as a serial killer's smile.

That did not frighten him.

It was her eyes. Gone was the brilliant blue. Now it was red. Red, just like the blood that was dripping from her face.

Anton felt his hand clench on reflex. He never thought he would see something like that again.

As her eyes made contact with him the killer smile faded to her usual grin. A moment later the red in her eyes faded from the outside in, like an ink blot being sucked up by a pen. The blood dropped onto the grass.

“How was that?” she asked, cheerfully running towards him, “I-”

Anton grabbed her by the shoulders as soon as he could. She yelped in pain and bowed her head, nearly dropping her spear. He said nothing and waited for her to look at him. Eventually she did, though with trepidation.

“What on earth compelled you to do that?” he asked somewhat angrily, “You knew that I can use magic-”

“I-”

“And if you say that you thought that I could not, because of the other day...”

He felt the anger dissipate. He could not hold it against her. It looked like her actions were somewhat beyond her control, and she had fought them off without a scratch. Verona relaxed as well. She glanced at her shoulders as he released his grip.

“That was not a pleasant thing to watch. I was very worried.”

Verona smiled.

“I know you were worried. To be honest, so was I. But...,” she shook her head and looked towards the sky, “I don't know. It was like something was guiding my actions. Like I was just watching myself.”

Things started to move within Anton's mind.

He had a suspicion, but he did not want everyone else to hear what he had to say.

Anton knelt down, Verona eyes locking with his. He used his right hand to pry apart her eyelids, checking for any remains of the redness. Despite his frantic searching he found nothing.

“Do your eyes hurt?”

“No. Why?” Verona replied, quite concerned.

“They were bright red, like you were bleeding.”

She rubbed under both her eyes with her hands, checking them for blood.

“Do you feel anything strange?” Anton asked.

Verona was quiet for some time. “I feel fine, I suppose. A bit tired and sore, but otherwise fine.”

Anton sighed in relief.

It looked like she used magic when she killed that wolf. The way the colour faded from her eyes, it cannot be anything else. Did she manage to make a contract with a god? Or a demon?

“That's good. Later, if it's alright with you, I would like to have a thorough check-up when we get back. Just to make sure that everything's okay.”

Verona nodded, a warm smile quickly covering her face. It changed as she leant on one side to look behind him.

The other villagers and the driver looked towards the pair. Anton felt their piercing and questioning gazes and felt quite uncomfortable. He stood up and coughed loudly to get their attention.

“Driver! Are there any monsters in the water?”

Anton's shout shook the driver back to the present.

“Um. Yes. There are some types of fish that hunt near the shoreline. After that fight, they've probably come here to feed. What was with her anyway?”

He glared at the driver, who seemed to get the message.

Anton walked to the edge of the water, summoning five chained lightning bombs and flung them into the lake. The moment the middle lightning bomb touched the water it exploded, each successive bomb exploding larger and larger.

Water, thrown up in the explosion, rained down upon them. Everyone looked strangely at Anton, who did not respond.

Bubbles emerged from the water, quickly followed by large striped fish. They rolled onto their side, their mouths twitching wildly.

“What did you do?” Verona asked as she moved closer to him. Some of the blood had been washed away by the spray, but not enough to truly notice.

“Just another test. I haven't been able to test lightning with water safely.” He pointed out towards the stunned fish. “Now I know that it can travel through water and stun creatures.”

She cocked her head, furrowing her eyebrows in thought.

“But when you rescued those people, before...well, you know. Anyway, you knew that then, didn't you? Not that you should if you lost your memories....” Verona began rubbing her chin, the wolf blood starting to congeal.

Shit. Need to change the direction.

“Well,” Anton began scratching the back of his head, “There is also confirming that, and tethering the lightning bombs. But there is something more important now, especially now that everything has been paralyzed.”

“What?”

Without waiting for her to answer, he picked her up under her legs and back.

“Wh-” was all that she could manage, her skin turning red as she squirmed in his arms.

He walked into the water, continuing to wade until it was almost up to his knees. She looked at the water then up at him.

“You utter!-” Verona shouted.

She was unable to finish her outburst as he threw her far into the water, her body disappearing in a gigantic splash. A moment she emerged from underneath the water, the blood mostly gone but having been replaced by a look so fierce it could curdle blood.

“Bastard!” she yelled after a pause.

Her eyes looked around at the water around her, raising her arms to get a better look. The water made her thick clothes stick to her form, hinting at some alluring proportions.

“Oh.”

There was another pause. The blood was beginning to dissolve into the water and out of her clothes, though some had already stained.

“You could have just said so!”

Anton could not help but laugh.

“True. But this was more fun.”

It did not seem enough for Verona, who remained sitting in the water. He waded deeper into the water until he reached his hand out.

In an instant, she had grabbed his hand and pulled down, with a force he thought should not be possible from her. The next moment the water and sand was in his face. An arm came into his vision and helped him up.

He coughed violently before rolling and sitting upright, putting his hands behind his back to keep himself upright.

Verona punched him, hard, in the arm. Hard enough that Anton began to rub it reflexively. She brought her arm around Anton's shoulder, drawing herself closer and leaning into his ear.

“We're not even yet,” she whispered.

As he turned towards her, she brought her other hand up and wrapped it around his face. She pulled him into a strange embrace before kissing him hard on the lips. They remained locked for some time. Anton's mind was both equally stunned and going into hysterics. It was still the most intense and passionate thing he had felt for some time.

When they finally broke, both their faces were scarlet red. Verona was the first to react, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Somehow, that made Anton feel a little disappointed.

“Why?” was all that Anton could weakly say.

“My heart was racing after that fight. It still is, but different now. Something told me I should do this.”

“That-”

Without answering she punched him repeatedly in the chest, though with little force.

“That was for doubting me. That was for grabbing me on the shoulder.”

Each point was ended with a light thump.

“That was for throwing me in the water. That was for not asking first.”

She took a deep breath and hit him quite hard in the ribs.

As Anton covered his chest and raised his arm to defend himself properly, she grabbed his arm and held it firmly.

“And that first thing was holding me the whole night.”

I knew that I moved about during my sleep, but I didn't think it was that bad. Maybe that's why my arms felt weird.

“I thought I told you to say something. And when was that? You were thrashing about when woke for the first time.”

She shrugged as she slowly stood, motioning for him to as well. “I woke up in the middle of the night, had to try and pry you off. I got there.”

“Anyway, that first one wasn't pulling you in the water, it-”

“I know what it was,” Anton replied, chuckling and rubbing her head vigorously.

They both calmed down and looked towards the cart. The other villagers were watching, most quite smugly, while the driver looked as if he was trying to hold back a torrent of laughter.

“Want to come for a swim!?” Anton loudly asked. “Waters nice and cool.”

The villagers took his suggestion seriously, quickly forming a huddle.

Verona looked questioningly at Anton. She let go of her arm but remained quite close.

“Is it safe?” one of the female villagers asked.

Anton looked behind him. The fish appeared to be on the verge of recovery. Some looked as if they were about to dive back down into the water. He summoned five tethered lightning bombs and threw them at the fish, stunning them once again. This time many smaller ones also rose, though none appeared to move at all.

Oh, well that worked, I suppose. This lake is massive. Let's hope it doesn't make to much of an impact on their numbers.

The villagers looked quite pleased by this as they ran towards the water. They seemed hesitant to actually enter, the fears that Zac had about water must have been truly ingrained upon all the villagers. Eventually one of the men charged forth, the rest soon following.

Anton noticed the driver had not decided to leave. He tried to wave him over, but the driver shook his head.

“I'll just wait here with the old girl. Make sure she's safe.”

“So that's a she then?” Anton asked aloud. He turned to the other villagers playing and splashing with each-other in the brilliant blue lake, already seemingly forgotten the perils of the water.

Verona tugged at his sleeve, gesturing towards the others.

“Alright, just a few minutes then.”

But she did not go. He quickly realized that she was waiting for him.

Well, I guess I could play for a little bit. Haven't had much time for that.

Anton picked Verona up and threw her in again, her joyful screams and the laughter of the villagers joining with the sound of the water washing over the sand.

Chapter 013 - Vol 1

Chapter 013:

Anton and the others had almost returned back to Atros. All of the villagers had appreciated the swim. Dirt, grime and filth that had accumulated over the weeks and months had been washed away. Now they looked what Anton would describe as normal. The smell had improved as well. No longer was the smell of sweat permeating his nostrils.

Verona, though, looked even worse than the other day. While she now did not have much in the way of dirt on her, the blood had not entirely been removed. Dried patches of wolf's blood gathered in the extremities, such as under her fingernails and on the inside of her ears. She picked at them incessantly, always on the search for more.

Her clothes had been thoroughly stained, so much so that no amount of washing would fix it. They would have to get a new set. Verona did not seem to mind though, her opinion on the subject appeared to be very utilitarian.

“I keep telling you it's fine,” Verona replied after she caught Anton staring at the blood patches on her sleeves.

“It still makes you look like a serial killer.” Anton pointed out.

They both sat next to each other in the cart, on top of the Earth Tower shards. Two of the other villagers sat beside Anton and the other four on the other side.

“I don't have a spare...this was the clean one. I only have two.”

“Since we have some serious money now when we get to another city, we'll get you something decent.”

Verona turned and frowned quizzically.

“Not just some strong stuff that will wash out easily, but some stuff that's more comfortable.”

She rubbed the sleeves of her clothes.

“I've heard there is softer stuff, not just that nightgown thing. It wouldn't be very good for combat, would it?”

Anton was impressed that she was starting to think more deeply.

“Possibly,” Anton replied, “If there's special fabric here...who knows. We might get you some sort of Emperor Flame Dragon hide for you to wear.”

She looked far away into the distance, her eyes appeared to have stars in them.

“That would be pretty awesome,” she said, leaning back into the cart and sliding down like a slob. “How much would that cost?”

“More than you or I could get in our entire lives probably, I'm afraid.”

Verona looked quite disappointed, but it quickly faded.

“We're almost here!” the driver turned around and shouted.

They passed over a particularity rough patch of ground, nearly throwing everyone out of the cart. When they recovered they could see Atros.

He had never seen it properly from a distance, the only other times he had left he had been either carrying dead bodies or returning exhausted.

Now it looked beautiful, in a rustic sort of way. The sun starting to set in the east sprayed the village in a warm golden glow. It looked like the last bastion against the wilderness, whatever that could really amount too.

Anton stretched his arms and leant forward.

“It'll be good to get some food into us,” he said.

Verona turned towards him and was about to speak when her stomach growled loudly. Anton and the others could barely contain their laughter, covering their mouths and looking away. Her face turned scarlet in response.

Anton began to feel the pangs of hunger as if he had forgotten how. He also felt quite thirsty. The other villagers looked equally tired and drained of energy.

He looked towards the village again. There were quite a few villagers on the wall. Even from their current distance, they looked quite happy.

As they approached, he saw the unmistakable outline of Zac and a man trying to control two children, Jonathan.

“You made it back in one piece!” Zac shouted out when they were fifty meters away.

“And with loads of that Obsidian Tower stone.”

Zac looked towards Jonathan. “We need a better name.”

Jonathan nodded in approval.

“Did you have any trouble?” Jonathan asked as the cart pulled up next to them.

Anton and the others disembarked, the driver taking care of the tired Ix beast.

“Quite a few things, actually. Verona here went all serial killer on a pack of thirty grey wolves by herself.”

All four looked on, nothing but shock on their faces. They turned to the other villagers to see if he was telling the truth. One caught their attention. She shrugged dismissively, confirming their suspicions.

“H...How?” Jonathan asked, his children looking at Verona in awe.

“That's a good question,” Anton said, turning to Verona. She tried and failed, to act like she had not heard anything.

“I'm going to look into it later. Anyway, got enough of that stone. I hope you have a plan for it.” Anton said.

“Depending on how thin we can make it, perhaps something with the gates on the walls. They'll end up stronger than the stone wall. A shield would work pretty good too.” Zac turned to Jonathan, who pursed his lips and nodded.

“If nobody minds, I have some tests to figure out. There's a piece of rotting meat in my room that I really need to investigate...or at the least get rid of it before it smells worse than the bone-yards.”

Anton and Verona started to walk towards the centre when Jonathan stopped them.

“Actually, before you do that, Jeff said that he needs to see you. He says that it's very important and you won't want to miss it.”

“This should be good,” Anton muttered to himself.

“I'll catch up with you later!” he yelled back at them as Verona ran beside him.

---[]---

Jeffrey awoke with a blinding headache. He lay in his bed, a warmth to his side. The woman from the other day, not that he bothered to actually remember her name, nuzzled up beside him.

I put too much River-Rush into the drink. My mind feels like it's been stabbed. I'm...I'm having trouble thinking it's so bad.

He sat up, seeing naked bodies sprawled across his house.

Definitely too much.

After getting up, dressed and having a massive drink of water, his mind began to clear.

The light coming in from the window told him that it was the afternoon. While it was not his plan to have slept so long, at least now they would be able to operate in the relative safety of the night. Now he needed to plan the raid on the food stores.

“Charles? Where are you?” he asked, his voice still raspy from thirst.

He scanned the bodies littering the floor. While he figured that everyone from the previous night was still here, he could not find Charles.

That little brat...He didn't drink anything, so he should have been fine since. So where is he?

Despite his mental questioning, nothing was being answered.

“Everyone, wake up!” he yelled, even kicking some people nearby.

The entire house groaned itself awake. Most seemed somewhat shocked that they were naked, but most just seemed to want to find their clothes. They all held their heads, their eyes were glazed and had trouble focusing.

A few moments later, they were all dressed and listening on Jeffrey's every word.

“Everyone get ready. We start as soon as it's dark.”

---[]---

Anton found Jeff in the council meeting room, accompanied by Avery. Two armed villagers stood at the inside and outside of the door with another villager that he had not seen before sat at the table.

“Good to see you, Anton.” Jeff greeting Anton with a rough handshake. “If we had known something like this would come up, we never would have let you go.”

“Sounds serious then,” Anton replied, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Indeed.” Jeff continued. He seemed to miss Anton's tone though Avery, judging by his expression, had not.

Jeff motioned for Anton and Verona to take a seat.

“This is my new best friend, Charles.” Jeff waved towards the other man.

Anton looked towards Charles then Jeff. He had not seen the man before. Charles looked completely unremarkable. A short, scruffy man that looked like everyone else in the village. In fact, he seemed like the type of person that no-one would notice unless they were explicitly pointed out, and even then not really remember them.

“He has been telling me all about some very dangerous thing that will be happening later today.”

Anton and Verona looked quizzically towards Jeff.

“I regret my friendship more by the day.”

Jeffrey then. Let's hear him out.

“Alright,” Anton turned to Charles, “You've made a very brave decision. So, let's hear it.”

Charles was about to speak when Verona raised her hand.

“Can we get something to eat? I'm starving.”

“I'll get something,” Avery said.

He left, taking one of the guards with him. Verona seemed to relax somewhat.

Charles coughed and righted his posture.

“Jeffrey has lost his mind. He's giving everyone drinks laced with River-Rush and whipping up everyone he can into a frenzy. There's some stupid plan to take the food storage, so everyone will turn against you.”

“Hang on, slow down,” Anton raising both hands to stop Charles, “What's River-Rush?”

“A weed,” Jeff explained, “Grows near stagnate waters, those full of dead and rotting creatures. Mainly used as a...well, aphrodisiac and relaxes your mind as well, but it's pretty dangerous. I've heard some of the stuff in the reed's sap makes you go mad.”

“Right.” Anton turned back to Charles.

“It's worse,” Charles explained. “It just doesn't make you mad, but also very strong and open to suggestion. I have no idea how much you would need, but he's been having it for some time. Probably before the invasion started.”

“An addict. So, back to his plan. He wants to destroy the food supply?” Anton asked.

“Just steal, then ransom it back for control.”

“That's-”

“I know it's a stupid plan,” Charles said with some exhaustion. “But it's the one he's going with and he will do it. And he will try to kill everything in his way.”

Anton leant back into his chair.

“We've got the food under watch as well as the rest of Jeffrey's cult. So, what made you change your mind?”

Charles fidgeted with his hands.

“I...I don't know. In the beginning, I thought that he actually had something important to say, and got caught up with his movement. While I agree that we have to do something to fight the Yellow Goblins, I don't believe that we can do that by killing you and...”

He looked towards Verona, who moved closer to Anton.

“Well, changing the authority of the village, for a start. After I asked how he wouldn't confront you himself, he lashed out at me. He doesn't have the stomach for direct confrontation.”

Charles pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing the beginnings of a large bruise around his throat.

Anton and Jeff looked at each other.

“So, what do we do?” Jeff asked.

“Do you have any idea when this attack is meant to be taking place?” Anton asked.

Charles nodded slightly.

“I only know that it's going to happen at night.”

“Well, we've still got some time. We mustn't let them know that we're onto them. I'll try to capture as many as I. If it causes a serious problem, we'll have no choice but to march in there and deal with it permanently.”

Jeff agreed, with some resignation.

“I'll get some soldiers into position near the main barns. I don't know how they think they can move all that food.”

“They only need to move a little,” Anton said, “They'll probably just burn or poison the rest, make what they have left far more valuable.”

The door opened, Avery and the other villager came in carrying a large plate covered in food. Verona grabbed a handful before it was even placed onto the table. Anton motioned for Charles to take some as well, he had no idea if Jeffrey's followers even had access to decent food. Charles took it with no hesitation and ate with enthusiasm.

“Do we have any spare places in the north where we could house Charles?” Anton asked Jeff. Charles stopped eating and looked at both of them.

“You can't go back,” Anton explained, “People like that would kill you for your betrayal.”

Charles sighed.

“I know.”

“We have a few.” Avery pointed out.

“Make sure he gets there and gets some regular food.” Anton looked towards Jeff.

He stood up, the others standing as well, except Verona who was still eating ravenously. Anton turned to Jeff.

“Keep up the great work, Jeff.”

Jeff looked quite surprised. Anton had not heard a word of praise for an act of initiative on his part. It was probably overdue.

“It's my pleasure,” Jeff replied quite happily. “You got plans before tonight?”

“I've got something stewing in my room that I need to deal with.”

---[]---

Anton recovered the piece of Alpha Thumper flesh and placed it on the table in his room. Despite it being almost a day old it looked the exact same, except no longer dripping in blood. To be fair, he had no idea how long unprocessed meat could last.

“Verona, I need to borrow your knife,” Anton asked.

“Sure,” Verona replied. She currently laid on her side of the bed, the dwindling plate of food resting on her lap. After shifting the plate into the middle, she got off and walked over to him.

“Why...what do plan on doing with that?” She asked, handing over the knife and leaning on his shoulder. “Are you going to cook it?”

“Actually, no.” He slowly pried apart the layers of the flesh. “What I'm after is this.”

The edges of the meat had well and truly dried out, but the inside remained wet. He pulled apart the normal layers, exposing the thin purple layer.

“This layer seems to stop magic from harming the rest, at least for a while.”

“So, you want to use this to...test this as some sort of magic armour? Some sort of layer, just like it is here.”

“Exactly,” Anton said pridefully. “The problem is that it's so fragile. Look.”

He lightly dug into the purple layer with the back of the knife. It tore and ripped with the slightest touch, the tears spreading away from the cut with alarming ease.

“I thought if I could get enough of this, I could do some simple tests. But as you can see...”

Verona scrunched her face, trying to think of something. Eventually, she shrugged and walked back to the bed.

“I have no idea. I thought you knew just about all of this stuff?”

“I guess my way through quite a lot of things.”

Verona laughed as she jumped back onto the bed.

“You cover it quite well then. I'm going to have a nap. Are you going to have one?”

Anton stopped dissecting the meat and leant back in thought.

“If I were, would you go crazy like before?”

She pouted and turned away.

“I told you, I'm not crazy. I'll be fine.”

“Does your back hurt?”

She rocked from side to side.

“A little bit, but not too bad. I'll try and sleep it off.”

With that, she moved the empty plate off the bed and curled up underneath the covers.

“How long do we have?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

“Couple of hours at least. I'll be taking a nap as well. We don't even know if this is even going to happen.”

Verona mumbled something in agreement, pulling the covers up tighter around her body. Within moments he could hear slow and rhythmic snoring.

Anton spent the next hour trying to get a decent sample of the purple flesh. Eventually, he ended up with a mash of the purple flesh, hopefully enough to perform some tests.

He grabbed the empty food plate from the ground, careful not to wake Verona, and placed the purple flesh bundle onto it. There was probably only enough to fit comfortably in his hand, but it had to be enough, there was nothing left.

He placed a small chunk of the normal meat underneath, so that half was exposed.

Using his mana, he formed a tiny flame, barely a centimetre tall, that danced around in his right palm. He pushed it to his index finger and brought it to the purple flesh. The exterior appeared to have no effect, before the exterior slowly began to sizzle and char. To push the test he poured more mana into the flame, keeping its size the same and increasing the heat.

The normal flesh burst into flames while the flesh appeared to be only gradually changing despite the increase in heat. He removed the mana and the flame faded from existence.

That explains why magic didn't have much effect on that Alpha Thumper, but why it still worked in the end. It must only have thin layers spread throughout its flesh because it's so fragile. If something was made out of this stuff, it would be broken by a faint breeze or a single strike. I wonder what happens if you dry this stuff out properly, like some sort of meat. Another test then.

As he unfurled the mass, he made them into single lines as best he could. He kept the plate, as he had nothing to hang them down from. Hopefully, they would dry out at a slow rate and not crack like a dry riverbed.

“Nnngh...”

Anton turned and saw Verona slowly waking from her nap. She threw the covers off and hopped out.

“Is that what you've been doing?” she asked as she approached him, still a little wobbly from just waking up.

“Yeah.”

She looked confused at the strips of purple flesh.

“Well, I feel a lot better now. Didn't you mention that you were going to see Zac and Jonathan later?”

Anton had almost forgotten. A quick glance out the wooden slat window told him that it was very late in the afternoon. Soon, he would have to pull an all-nighter, in the hopes that they could capture Jeffrey's goons before they did too much damage.

“It'll be a good excuse. You don't want to stay and rest a bit more?”

She looked him up and down.

“You look really tired,” she spoke with a soft and caring voice, “If you want, I can go.”

“I'll be fine.” Anton said as he spoke and waved dismissively, “I'll get it done as quickly as I can then come back for a nap.”

“Okay.” Her caring voice changed for something far more enthusiastic.

She grabbed her spear and armour, trotted towards the door and opened it.

“Thanks, Ver,” Anton said as he passed through.

Verona grinned wildly at being called her nickname.

---[]---

Jonathan and Zac already had the delivery of special stone delivered to the blacksmith. When Anton arrived, both were in the middle of trying to work with one of the stones. A large slate of the Earth Tower stone was sitting in the centre of the blacksmith, tools and fragments from the stone littering the floor. They stood either side, both wielding a hammer.

Both downed their tools the moment they saw him.

“Hey,” Jonathan spoke first, “I did not think it would take that long to interrogate someone.”

“I told you I had other things to do,” Anton said, trying to feign innocence.

“Like carving up meat,” Verona said cheekily.

Jonathan and Zac looked confusingly at her, while Anton rolled his eyes. She refused to look them in the eyes, turning her head to the side. Anton swore she started whistling.

Zac grunted. “Anyway, you've come at a bad time then lad. We can't get this stuff to fracture properly, it just smashes.”

“I couldn't beak it either. What are you using?” Anton asked as he walked towards the stone on the anvil.

“Anything we can get our hands on,” Jonathan answered, matter-of-factly. “We've had the most success with using fragments of the stone to chip away, but even that takes some time.”

“Those other metals-”

“Like Adamantian. Absolutely. If we were to sell all those jewels, we might get enough for a small axe. Not really a good investment.” Jonathan looked disappointed at not having the rare metals and lightly kicked at the dirt.

Anton rubbed his hand over the stone. It was clear where they had tried to break it apart, instead of the usual smoothness, it was incredibly rough, almost enough to cut his hand.

“No chance on using this for armour then?” Anton asked.

“Not a chance,” Jonathan replied, “Anything small enough to be used on a person shatters before we can use it, those few that we got the right size and thickness to use were no stronger than a bad piece of leather.”

“At the moment, we'll be using it on the gates until we can figure something better out. Shields are just too heavy.” Zac continued.

Anton nodded in agreement. It was just like he thought they could actually use it for. Though it was nice to know they were thinking along the same lines.

“I take it that you've heard what's happening?” Anton asked.

“Yes,” Jonathan replied, “Jeff came earlier and told us. I'm moving for the night into the main hall, to keep my kids safe. I hope that won't be a problem?”

Jonathan glanced between Anton and Verona.

“Is there one?” Verona asked. She seemed quite convinced that there was a problem.

“I don't see one,” Anton replied.

Relief washed over Jonathan's face.

“Dad! We're ready!”

Shawn and Jocelyn emerged from the open doorway to the indoor section of the blacksmith. Each carried a number of bags, heavy enough that they both were struggling to keep it off the ground.

“I told you two to wait,” Jonathan said, racing over to grab both bags. His strong arms could just take the weight, it spoke volumes for the strength and determination of his children.

“They look quite eager,” Anton commented, taking some of the smaller bags off Jonathan's hands.

“It's like a day off for them. And that's how we're going to treat it. Don't want to risk them over this.”

“I understand. I thought all the rooms there were basically full?” Anton wondered aloud.

“Jeff said there's a free room. One that's been cleaned up.”

“What about you Zac?” Anton asked.

He crossed his arms and pushed out his chest.

“I'll be watching one of the barns tonight. Got to earn my keep.”

Anton nodded in agreement.

A loud knock came from outside. They turned and saw Avery with a dozen armed villagers.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Avery began, “There has been quite a lot of movement to the south. Whatever it is, it's going to happen soon.”

“Tell everyone to get into position. Jonathan, make sure you get your kids to safety. Let's sort this thing out. Finally.”

---[]---

Anton, Verona and five other villagers hid in the beams and platforms of the most southern barn that held food. They were near the main door, about two meters from the entrance and four meters above the ground. The other entrances had been heavily barricaded. There was not much room hiding on the rafters, but there was enough to sit down. It was hard for all of them to remain awake, but Anton had told them what the price of failure would be.

Scattered throughout the barn were giant sacks and wooden crates, overflowing with fruits and grains. More than enough to feed the village for some time. There even appeared to be some meat drying as well. Anton realized that one of the villagers must have been a butcher, probably one of those that was cooking the Razor-Pig the other day.

“How much longer?” one of the villagers asked.

“We've been here for ages.” said another. “Jeff said they would try to take all our food tonight. I wish they would get it over with, I really want to sleep.”

“Don't we all,” Anton replied back.

They had been sitting there for some time, waiting in complete silence. Anton guessed that it was probably midnight by now. It was no wonder that untrained civilians would be getting impatient and tired, not that Anton had any experience himself. He forced himself awake knowing what was at stake.

The armed villagers were near the edge, far enough that Verona felt comfortable to whisper to Anton.

“Why did you wait so long? Just let them do what they want,” she asked.

Anton turned towards her.

“They've done terrible things, like Cara for one. Why not tell the others?”

Anton leant forward so that Verona would hear and the others would not.

“They would believe us. But just some random person? I don't know. There were only three witnesses to that attack, and one of those is dead. And they may think that we're just making it up.”

Verona frowned and looked down at the floor.

“Jeff and Bertram don't seem so keen on killing other humans, and I'm willing to bet there are quite a lot more people that think that way too. It's one thing to kill to defend your loved ones from monsters, but not so much from people that you've been friends with all your life until a few days ago. Even if you didn't like them, it's a big step to kill them.”

Verona still did not look happy. She remained quiet for what seemed an age.

“This whole thing seems...devious.”

Verona seemed sad, something he had not expected her to show him. Her shoulders and head slumped low.

“It is. But I like the people here. So I will do what is necessary to keep them safe. Even if it means doing some things that are bad.”

Verona straightened up and looked him straight in the eyes. Her face warmed, though she still seemed a little concerned.

Nearly a minute later something moved outside. The light from the torches outside, coming in through the gaps in the wall, flickered as multiple bodies moved past. Anton nudged Verona, who alerted the others.

“Everyone, get ready. Where is Jeff anyway?” Anton asked. One of the villagers coughed to gain his attention.
“He's waiting in another building, quite a bit away. Should we signal him?” The villager prepared to place both hands into his mouth to whistle.

“Not yet,” Anton using his hand to keep the villagers in position, “We don't know exactly what's what. Let them make the first move.”

They waited and waited, until the barn doors finally opened. One intruder held the door slightly ajar, head twitching furiously as a lookout, while the others slinked in. From his position, he could not see if they were man or woman, not that it would matter in a few minutes.

The door closed, that intruder gathering with the others. There appeared to be a dozen of them, all armed with small weapons. Obviously, they would not have access to the newer weapons, but a shard of steel or pitchfork through the throat or gut was just as effective.

“How are we going to get this out?” One of the intruders asked with a deep male voice. They spoke so softly that Anton had to concentrate extremely hard just to hear anything.

The one that asked looked towards the one that held the door.

“I guess we'll just have to take multiple trips, then.” The one answering was a male as well. “Grab the grain sacks and barrels first. Those are the most valuable and should be easiest to carry.”

Without another word, they spread out and grabbed the largest crates, slowly taking them to the door.

Verona bumped Anton, gesturing to ask whether they could start.

“Wait a bit more,” Anton whispered, “When they've got the crates and are about to leave, that's when we'll go. Get them when they think they've won.”

“Got it,” Verona whispered back.

The other villagers nodded but did not seem to have the same level of enthusiasm. Being outnumbered probably did not help.

He waited until all of the thieves had their hands full before he gave the signal. The villager whistled as everyone descended. Anton, Verona and four of the villagers landed with no problem, silently on their feet. The fifth villager, the one that whistled, snagged his clothes on the way down and tumbled. He landed on his side, creating a terribly loud thud accompanied by a groan.

The thieves stopped, some dropping their captured goods. They glanced at each other, before staring angrily at Anton.

“Good-evening everyone,” Anton said as innocently as he could. “We don't actually need any more food today, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Some of the thieves tilted their heads in confusion but refused to say anything.

“So,” Anton continued, “How about we all put down our weapons and talk this thing through, yeah.”

They appeared to get even angrier.

“Why did you say that?” Verona asked, barely whispering.

“To get them angry,” Anton replied softly.

He took a deep breath and spoke even louder. “If you give up now, I promise that you will live.”

“He's bluffing,” a thief spoke loudly back, “We've got more than twice the number of people he has.” They brandished their weapons, pitchforks and farming tools, just as Anton had thought they would. “Just get ready for a lightning shock.”

“Are you crazy?” Verona asked the thieves. She turned to Anton. “Did they not see you with the flame things the other day?”

“Apparently not,” Anton replied. “Last chance.”

“Don't let him speak.” the thief that opened the door spoke up again. “He words are like a poison that eats through your mind.”

“Looks like you are the ones that are poisoned,” Anton replied smugly, “A pity. Let's get this over with, nobody here has all night.”

The villagers glanced at Anton and readied their spears. Verona looked like she was going to try to take them all on again, but Anton held her back.

All of the thieves let out a blood-curdling cry and ran straight towards him, waving their weapons like lunatics.

Looks like they're drugged, perhaps with that River-Rush stuff. No talking them down. Guess that's that then.

The mana flowed into his hands. He knew he could only use the lightning here, fire would destroy the very thing they were trying to protect.

Twelve small lightning bombs formed around his hands, not enough to kill all the thieves but enough to thin them down. Each bomb was the same size as he first used at the Quarry, about the size of his fist, but without the tethering.

He flung the bombs towards the closest thieves at tremendous speed. None of the thieves wore any real armour. Their peasant clothes did little to stop the lightning bombs.

Blinding light filled the barn, so much so that Anton glanced away.

When he looked he realized that his aiming required some work. Nine of the thieves had been struck and their broken bodies were lying motionless on the ground. The remaining three stopped as quickly as they could.

The three bombs, that missed their targets, had smashed open several crates. Something that looked like grains spilt out like water.

“Bloody hell.” A villager near Anton murmured.

He turned to look, but the villager was staring at the carnage. Limbs and chunks of flesh had scattered throughout the barn.

One of the bodies started to move, squirming on the ground. A bloody and torn hand moved to cover their spilling guts. Her legs had been blown away, only stumps remaining.

Anton glanced down at the spectacle before staring at the remaining thieves.

“I thought I would be able to aim better. Guess I need more practice.” Anton said aloud.

“You,” A thief yelled, as he pointed his finger, “You're a monster!”

Anton could not help but smile.

“I did ask you to stop.” He formed another, larger lightning bomb. This time, half the size of a head. “Now, put down your weapons and get on the ground.”

The dying thief let out a blood-curdling cry as she gave up trying to hold in her spilling guts. With her remaining arm, she started to crawl towards him. She had no legs but she tried anyway, the bloody stumps pushing into the dirt. Her belt around her waist, and an attached bag bristling with knives, dragged and tumbled loose. Everyone remained silent as they watched the spectacle.

“I'll kill you!” she spoke with laboured breaths, each word bringing up more blood. “For my sister, Cara, that you let die. I will kill you if it's the last thing I do!”

She clutched a small blade in her hand.

“Never heard of her,” Anton spoke with as much sincerity as he could, though he could not entirely hide his thoughts.

The still crawling woman crawled towards him with a renewed intensity.

“And you expect to kill me with that?” Anton asked, squatting down, “You wouldn't make it to me without bleeding out. And let's not forget that I could just out-walk you. So, no you won't. You'll die here for something that you probably barely understand.”

He kicked the knife out of her hand then her head, causing her to roll over. She coughed blood then stopped moving as she brought her hand back to cover her wounds. A whimper came out from her, but he kicked her head again.

“Stupid idiots.” he cursed as he struck the woman’s head over and over.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Verona glaring angrily at him. She had only changed when Anton had started to taunt the crawling woman, now she looked furious. His sadistic side was coming out, and she hated it.

He walked back to the villagers and took a spear from one of the villagers and, using both hands, plunged it straight through the heart of the crawling woman. She gave a final splutter and died.

“This whole night was not as fun as I had expected,” Anton said, bringing the lightning bomb back in front of him.

“I still see you with weapons raised.” he summoned another two large lightning bombs. “You still want to fight?”

“Die!” the three screamed at Anton. He did not know whether they were drugged or their minds had broken. Not that he cared.

He flung the lightning bombs at their chests, instantly turning them into giblets. The sound of the chunks splattering on the ground was sickening.

Nobody moved or spoke for some time.

The barn doors burst open. Twenty armed villagers, with Jeff and Avery at the front, burst through. The tips of their weapons were dripping with blood. Anton turned and walked over to Jeff.

“Turns out this was only one of the places they got.” Jeff spoke with little breath, “They didn't steal much, but they did manage to set fire to one of the barns.”

Jeff moved out of the way and threw her head back. Behind him was the yellow glow of a burning building, well and truly ablaze.

“What happened here?” Avery asked. All of the new villagers looked at the eviscerated bodies and the blood trail leading to the woman with the spear impaled through her chest.

“I think we can all figure that out,” Anton said sarcastically. “Did you get them all?”

“Seven attacked the other barn,” Jeff replied, raising his bloody weapon. “They managed to set fire to it but didn't steal anything. They tried to set fire to another two. They wouldn't stop and tried to kill us. So...we stopped them.”

“Anyone injured?”

Jeff looked even more solemn. “Not ours, at any rate.”

An awkward silence followed. Eventually, Anton broke it.

“Clear the bodies out of here. And double the guard on the south. We'll move in at first light. I, and nobody else wants to be clearing a house only to have one of these crazies to jump out at us.”

Everyone looked at Anton, most had a look of fear towards him.

“I have no qualms about killing those who would kill me, and neither should you. You want to see heartless and cruel? Just wait until your starving after letting these idiots run amok.”

Their faces softened. Anton did not want them to become happy with the concept of killing, but they must at least understand why it is necessary. He hoped that was enough.

Jeff looked either side at the villagers. “You heard him. Avery, wake some guards and get them to join the south. The rest of you, clean up the bodies as best you can, then get some sleep.”

The villagers nodded and set about their tasks. They quickly put the food containers back into position, though they seemed hesitant to deal with the corpses.

Verona walked beside Anton towards Jeff and Avery. Jeff seemed quite depressed.

“I didn't really expect this. Never would have thought I'd be killing other people over food, 'specially when we're not starving.” Jeff said, explaining his melancholic mood.

“Yes. It's not pleasant.” Anton continued. Verona frowned, though no-one commented.

“Next thing?” Avery asked.

“Get some sleep, for one,” Anton replied. “I have no intention of moving to attack an area in the dark with crazy lunatics that could be bursting out of the wall if I can help it. I used up some mana, and I've been awake for almost a day straight. Both of you should get some rest as well. A few hours will do some good for all of us. I did not expect so many to attack.”

Jeff looked back towards the burning barn. “If only you had water magic, it would make this a whole lot easier.”

Villagers were crowding around the burning barn, putting out spot fires as soon as they emerged.

“True. We going to let that thing burn out?”

Jeff nodded. “Maybe let them think they did more damage than they did. They only got a tenth of the supply.”

Jeff pursed his lips. “Do really you want to move in? Get rid of them all, like this?” He raised his bloodied weapon.

Anton nodded. “In the morning, we'll have a face to face with Jeffrey. See how tough he is.”

There was nothing more to say. Jeff and Avery moved to supervise the villagers while Anton and Verona went back to the main hall, the light from the roaring inferno lighting their way as if it was day.

---[]---

Verona was in a foul mood when they got back to his bedroom. She shoved the door open, stormed to her side of the bed before sitting upon it, arms folded and her face angry. She said nothing and watched Anton enter, waiting for him to close the door.

“I'm not happy.”

No shit.

“I can see that,” Anton replied. He laid on the bed and looked straight up, only looking at Verona through his periphery.

“You didn't have to kill them like that, did you?”

“No.”

There was a long pause, he could see Verona's expression change to concern.

“You enjoyed it, didn't you?”

He turned to face Verona. There was nothing like judgement on her face.

“Yes,” Anton said, taking a deep breath afterwards.

Verona laid down on the bed and looked at the ceiling.

“Do you remember, a while ago, that you said that if I was having trouble I could talk to you about it?”

“Yes?”

Anton could guess what she was about to say. A part of him wanted to give a quick and snippy reply, but something told him that he should hear it, even if he did not want to.

“If...You...want to talk. You know that I'll listen, right?”

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder softly. He turned to look at her but she retracted before he could see her face.

“Okay,” she said, brushing her clothes and standing up, “That's enough of the mushy crap.”

“What about in the lake?” Anton asked teasingly.

“That was different,” Verona replied. She kept her back to him and refused to turn around.

“Thank-you Verona. Really, thank-you.”

At the moment, Anton had no intention of talking about he felt when he killed someone. Nevertheless, it felt relaxing and reassuring that someone was interested in his well-being.

Verona remained silent for some time. She eventually let out a long sigh.

“Well, since you're there, could you help get the armour off?”

“Sure.”

Anton walked n his knees over the bed until he could reach the clips at the back of the armour. They were easy and quick to remove, he knew that he had Jonathan to thank for that. He had not seen Jonathan on the way in, he hoped that they were safely asleep.

Verona seemed much happier and free without them. She rotated and stretched her arms. When she twisted her back she yelped in pain. She clasped her back and sat back down on the bed.

“That really does not sound good.”

“Ah, it's really not,” Verona answered back. He thought she would have said something snippy at him for such an obvious remark, but the pain seemed to hold it back.

“What does it feel like? Is it different than before?”

“Before it was just an ache, now it feels like there's a rock in my spine. Every time I move it's like it's grinding at my bones.”

Verona thumped her back just below the spine, emitting a small wince.

“Still there,” she grunted through the pain.

“Let me use my mana again. I may have found something last time. Hopefully it'll be better this time.”

“Alright.”

Verona started to remove her shirt but Anton stopped her.

“I don't think that's necessary this time.”

“Oh. Okay” Verona said with a hint of disappointment.

Anton coughed, realizing his mistake, and placed both hands just below her shoulders. He used the prayer power and focused the feeling just underneath his hands.

Through the mana, which felt like some form of ethereal hands, he found something.

“I got something.”

“What? Is it bad?”

“No idea,” Anton admitted, “It sort of feels like a stone. Do you want me to try and get rid of it?”

“Yeah,” Verona whimpered again, “It's not going to get better by itself.”

Anton grasped the small ethereal object and tried to move it. There was the tiniest amount of movement, but it snapped back the moment he let it go. No matter how many times he tried, it would not move.

“Alright, that's not working.” Verona turned her head backwards, looking concerned. “Let's try...”

He poured all the mana he had left and tightened his grip on the stone. Underneath his grip, he felt it groan and give ever so slightly.

Can't move it, and it's obviously not a real stone lodged in her spine. So, let's just try and break it.

With everything he had, he squeezed the rock. A moment later he felt, and heard, it crack.

Everything went white, his very breath and life leaving him. Both arms grew heavy and numb, dropping uselessly onto the bed.

Vision returned a second later, his breath and strength a second after that. The gem embedded in his right hand burned like a star.

Christ, what was that?

Verona sat perfectly still in front of him, not even breathing. Her body jolted forward as if she just vomited.

“GAHHHH!” She screamed in pain, both hands wildly clawing at her back. As she tried to stand, her legs gave way, crumpling onto the floor. Her body thrashed wildly, smashing into anything and everything around her. With every movement, he could hear her bones creaking and groaning underneath the strain.

“Verona, hang on!” Anton said as he hurriedly shuffled off the bed towards her.

His left arm had regained most of its feeling while his right still felt numb. Using all the strength he could muster, he lifted her with his left hand and onto the bed.

Her mind had seemingly returned. She stopped thrashing, though all her muscles still contracted sporadically. She grasped at the covers, clawing herself onto the bed.

Anton rolled her so she was lying on her back. She seemed a little more comfortable, at least. Her breathing became calmer.

“Thanks. Wh-” She screamed even louder, so loud that Anton wanted to cover his ears. Her hands were ripping at her chest, the clothing giving way.

He used his good left hand to try and hold her arms down, to stop her from tearing herself apart.

Monstrous strength filled her arms. With a single swing of her arm, she lifted Anton off the bed, propelling him across the room and onto the table. The table broke as Anton rolled off. He groaned loudly as he tried to get back up.

Verona's screaming started to die down, becoming groans of anguish as she tried to control her breathing.

The door burst open. Jonathan came in knife in one hand and a hammer in the other. Bertram, Sybil, Jocelyn and Shawn followed nervously behind him.

“Come on out-” Jonathan yelled, stopping when he saw the state of the room.

Verona started screaming again, arching her back upwards. She twisted and convulsed as she screamed, everyone else watching in horror as she clawed at her back.

“What's happening?” Sybil asked.

Anton was glad that she did not think this was some elaborate experiment or attack.

“Don't know,” Anton replied, “Explain later. Can someone help me up?”

Jonathan put down his weapons and picked Anton up.

Verona rolled onto her front, now on all fours. With one arm she ripped her shirt clean off. Verona slumped forward onto her elbows, her screams becoming muffled moans as she planted her face into the pillow. Sybil let out a gasp while she grabbed Jonathan's kids and ushered them out of the room.

“What is this?” Jonathan asked.

“She's been having back pain for the past two days, and my magic can't fix it. I found something in her using mana. When I tried to remove it, this happened.” Anton motioned to his numb right hand and Verona.

Bertram nudged Anton, pointing towards Verona. Her body rocked back and forth as she breathed heavily.

“I'm okay. I'm okay.” Verona said through ragged breaths. “I-”

She groaned in pain, her body starting the convulsions again.

“Hold her down, I don't want her to break her arm or anything worse.” Anton told Bertram and Jonathan, “Just be careful, she's a lot stronger than she looks.”

All three hurried over, Jonathan and Bertram held her flailing arms as best they could while Anton tried to hold her legs. The convulsions and her breathing began to calm down rapidly.

The sound of tearing flesh filled the room. A bloody line grew and carved itself along Verona's back, running from the top of her shoulder blades to the small of her back. She screamed as the mark grew in colour and definition.

“That's..,” Bertram said, “But...why?”

The redness formed a long and slender droplet. Within the droplet lay a long and thin spear. It looked just like the one she currently wielded. The marks continued to spread around the spear, strange red swirling patterns that spread and grew like vines over her back, sides, upwards to her neck and down towards her legs.

Her groans became weaker, but she still seemed to be in immense pain. As the tattoos continued to slow their spread, her breathing became more and calmer. No one said anything, merely stunned into watching the transformation.

Nearly a minute later, the tearing sound stopped. Verona let out a massive sigh of relief and completely collapsed.

Almost a third of her back was now covered in the blood red marks and tattoos. The marks had travelled along her body to her wrists and ankles. She was still wearing her villager pants, so he could not see but he presumed that they covered there as well.

Everyone released their hold now that she seemed to be okay.

Verona rolled onto her front, quickly covering her breasts with the discarded remains of her shirt. The tattoos had not covered them, but had travelled to the edge of her side and stopped, looking like wisps of a flame.

She looked extremely tired.

Anton felt feeling return to his right hand. He reached out tentatively and held her hand.

“Is it over?” Bertram asked.

“How are you feeling?” Anton asked.

Verona looked at him and smiled weakly.

“I feel really tired, and everything aches. My back feels a lot better though.” She chuckled nervously. “It got rid of the rock in my back.”

“Any idea what happened?” Bertram asked.

Verona shook her head. She did not answer for nearly a minute.

“None. I just feel really tired. Can I go to sleep now?”

“I don't know if that's the best idea just after whatever that was,” Anton said.

“I'll be fine.” Verona replied, “I just need to sleep it off.”

Anton placed his hand on Verona's shoulder and use the prayer power, as it was meant to. It flowed and flowed into her. He stopped only when he had used virtually every bit of his mana. Despite that, it still felt like there was still so much healing to be done. Whatever it was had caused Verona unimaginable damage.

Verona relaxed into the bed. Every breath seemed to be easier for her.

Anton turned to the Jonathan and Bertram. “I don't feel good right now, myself. I'll be going to sleep, in the spare room or something if we have one.”

“No,” Verona said. “I don't want to be alone if I have another attack or something.”

“She's right,” Bertram said warmly. He looked at Jonathan who smiled in agreement. “You sleep here. You can heal her if something goes wrong, right?”

Anton was not up for further discussion.

“Yeah. Alright,” he said as he sat on the bed.

“To be honest, I thought someone was under attack when I first heard Verona screaming like that.” Jonathan admitted, “No idea what I could do with these if they could take down both of you.”

“We'll see what happens when something that's immune to magic rolls on up,” Anton said chuckling.

“Nevertheless,” Bertram coughed to get the conversation moving in a serious direction, “We need to get to sleep ourselves. Anyone that asks about tonight, Verona cut herself while training. Anton healed the rather large wound. Anyway, she seems to better and you'll be here. I'll have to tell Jeff and Zac tomorrow, but I'm sure they can keep a secret.”

Everyone agreed. Jonathan and Bertram left, carefully closing the door.

Verona had tucked herself underneath the covers already and looked sheepishly with the covers pulled tight. Everything about her looked exhausted.

He laid down on top of the bed, his eyes feeling heavy.

“You have an idea about this, don't you?” she asked. “You always have some idea, even if turns out to be wrong.”

Anton motioned for her to turn over and showed him her back.

“It looks like a spear over a drop of blood. The colour and shape,” Anton looked at his left hand, to his glyph marks, “Look just like these.”

Verona leaned in closer to check his hand, before looking at a visible section of the tattoo.

“It does a bit. Does this make me a mage like you?” Despite her tiredness, her eyes looked so full of hope and wonder.

“Honestly, I don't know. Did you have any weird dreams?”

“Just that one the other day with everything on fire and everyone dead...That's the one, isn't it?”

“I don't know. Sounds just like a bad nightmare, to be honest. Tomorrow we'll have a lot longer to find out. Now, get some rest. We've got a big day tomorrow.”

Her face turned into a grimace. She knew it would probably involve killing people again.

“'kay, off to sleep then.”

Verona rolled onto her back, quickly letting sleep overtake her. Anton remained awake for some time longer.

Christ, what is happening in this world? It looks like one of my glyphs, only a lot larger and those strange tattoos... Did she make some sort of deal with a god, and if so, which one. Esperit and Stratos did say they were not all friendly. I hope this makes more sense in the morning.

With innumerable thoughts swirling around his head, it took quite some time before he fell in a short and unpleasant sleep.

Chapter 014 - Vol 1

Chapter 014:

“Wake up already.” Something was gently poking Anton's face.

“Hey!”

He felt a sharp sting on his cheek, his mind jolting awake. The earliest of the suns rays entered the room.

To his right, Verona was already awake. She was sitting on the bed a foot away from him, using the skin covers to cover her front.

He was about to say something but remembered that Verona tore it off that night. Everything else came back as well.

“Christ, Ver...How are you feeling?” Anton asked, quickly remembering her pain.

She smiled weakly, shoulders dropping as she relaxed.

“Okay, I guess.” Her voice was a little hoarse. “Everything aches though.”

As she scratched her back, he saw the blood-red tattoos on her shoulders. Now, with the morning light upon them, they looked quite beautiful in a wild sort of way.

“They look pretty awesome, don't you think?” Verona asked, looking at the exposed sections.

Anton coughed awkwardly.

“Anyway,” Verona said as she turned away, still smiling, “I want to see what sort of magic I have.”

She jumped off the bed and rummaged through her pile of clothes, finding her other shirt. After putting it on she still looked a little disappointed.

“What's wrong?”

Verona stood and twirled.

“You can't see it, no-one can. What's the point then?”

“So you want something that would show them off?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“A couple of things. Those marks cover most of your back, down to your legs and most of your sides-”

Verona rolled up pants to look, sighing when she saw that they did indeed travel that far.

“You would basically need to go running into battle naked.”

“That's-”

“That's a terrible idea, a single arrow would kill you and there's nothing between you and cuts and scratches...and I would hardly let you anyway.”

She turned, grinning at him.

“I'd like to see you try,” she said cheekily.

Anton turned his hand upright and formed a large lightning bomb, Verona's eyes widening under the flickering light. She chuckled and raised her hands.

“Okay, I get your point...Do you think I can do that now?”

The lightning bomb dissipated slowly, giving Anton time to think.

“Honestly, no. My mark that allows me to do that is a lightning bolt and yours is a spear in a drop of blood. But...” Anton walked to Verona and spun her around, “I think that we'll find out whatever has changed. It's a little difficult to explain. Do you feel anything 'extra' within you?”

Verona pursed her lips and turned to face him. “Not really, do you?”

“Yes. My whole body feels heavier than what it should be like I'm walking through water.” Verona knelt and grabbed a piece of her armour, motioning for Anton to help. “As I use more mana, it starts to disappear. It's a little difficult to understand at first, but eventually it's pretty simple. At least what little I actually understand.”

Verona fastened the first piece of armour before stopping and looking straight at him, “And if you run out, you get weak or something?”

Her face turned into a grin. “I've seen that. The other day with the flame pillars, it looked like you were about to pass out.”

“Thanks for those times, by the way. I shouldn't take things like that for granted.”

“Well,” Verona smiled and picked up another piece of armour, “I don't feel that 'heaviness'. I wonder if it'll make me better with a spear?”

The rest of the armour was quickly assembled. Verona grabbed her spear and held it loosely with both hands as if it would light up by itself. When nothing happened, she looked quite disappointed. She leapt onto the bed and began practising thrusts, blocks and twirls.

She seemed quite proficient as usual, though he could not see any difference. Verona noticed this as well, becoming increasingly agitated as nothing appeared to have changed.

“This should be working, right?” she asked, finally stopping as the first drops of sweat began to percolate on her face.

Anton scratched the back of his head. “Well, I had my patron gods help me understand how it works. And, they seem to help whenever I need it most.”

“Ah, like with the flame pillars,” Verona noted, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Exactly. For now, we can only carry on as normal and hope we stumble across the answer. Unfortunately, while I would like to figure it out, there is the issue from the other night that we need to deal with.”

She scrunched her face up, knowing that this would involve killing or hurting other humans.

“Let's get this over with then.” Verona did not sound happy in the slightest, though Anton knew she would still do it if necessary. He hoped he would not have to, but he knew he would be killed this day.

---[]---

Bertram and Jeff were talking in front of the burnt barn when Anton and Verona exited the main hall.

“They certainly did a number on this,” Anton commented when he got close enough. The smell of burnt wood and straw occasionally wafted through his nose.

Bertram raised an eyebrow. “I'm...not quite sure what you mean, but yes. Everything was destroyed. Thankfully, we moved most of the food to other areas just before.”

“Now we just need to deal with this permanently,” Anton said. Jeff looked just as unhappy as Verona about this, though for different reasons. Jeff had thought of Jeffrey as a friend. Now that he revealed himself to be insane, he now had to fight his friend. Verona did not like how Anton enjoyed the killing.

“What do you have in mind?” Anton asked.

Jeff pointed to the other side of the plaza where a large group of armed villagers stood.

“I have fifty people, all from the hardest hit areas of the wall, so they know what we're fighting for and won't buy into his crap.”

“You're not coming?”

“No,” Jeff said apologetically “I'm not up for something like that. Avery will be with you. I've told him to follow your lead on this one. I'm going north to keep an eye on the wall after helping dad. Good luck.”

Bertram nudged his son's shoulder, they both gave a little wave and left.

Avery was standing at the front of the gathering of villagers, all armed with the new spears and varying levels of armour.

“Hello, Mr Anton,” Avery said politely as they both approached. “Jeff has already explained the situation, and has told me to use my best judgement when following orders.”

Anton felt the introduction had a bit of venom in the underlying tone, though, from the little that Anton had engaged with the man, it might be his usual demeanour.

“Good. Has everything been cleaned up?”

“Actually,” Avery looked a little uncomfortable, “We still have one to get rid of. We wanted to get rid of it before you arrived. It's the one that was stabbed with a spear.”

That crawling woman. She seemed to hate me more than the others. Speaking of which...

Anton let out a sigh. “Oh well, get something identifiable from that woman's corpse. I want them to admit that they knew what they were planning to do here.”

“As you wish. I believe she had a very distinctive bag with her.” Avery replied curtly, waving a villager over and relaying the instructions. The villagers appeared somewhat disturbed but carried out the order regardless.

Verona grabbed his hand. “Please don't become strange.” There was a desperation to her voice.

“Don't worry, I'm just doing what's necessary to deal with this idiot.”

Despite what Anton said, neither truly believed that answer.

A villager emerged with the bag and handed it to Anton. The bag looked relatively unremarkable except that on its front was a large yellow cross. The significance of which was lost on Anton. There was still blood on it, but that would probably be for the best in riling the cultists up.

“This will do. Everyone! Get ready to move out.”

---[]---

The villagers keeping a watch on the south looked relieved when they arrived. Most appeared to share the same sentiments, that it needed to be dealt with permanently. Having to allow them through, and knowing what they had done, had made them far more willing to take action.

Anton approached a group of four, two men and women, just before perimeter.

“Anything?” Anton asked.

“Since the other night?” one of the women replied, “Nothing, haven't even tried their usual bullshit this morning.”

“Well,” Anton cracked his hands and neck, “Let's change that.”

Anton stood upon one of the stacks of wooden crates, nearly a full height above the others.

“Jeffrey!” he yelled towards the south, “It's time to show your vile and scheming face. I have dealt with your little cultists, those that you sent like lambs to the slaughter. All so you could wrest control for whatever deranged reason your pathetic mind could hope to accomplish. It's time to be a man and show yourself!”

The village went unbelievably quiet, nothing but breathing could be heard.

Verona bumped his leg.

“'I dealt with them'? That's a little bit of a lie, isn't it?” she asked cheekily.

“Just to stir them up. All their anger is towards me, might as well use it.”

It took nearly a minute before there was any movement. A door on a house creaked open, a bleary-eyed man emerging. Another opened, then another, each emptying people onto the road. Man and woman wore very little as they had just woken up.

Twenty-five people eventually emerged, forming a line opposite Anton. They said nothing, just staring without blinking. It made the villagers rather unsettled. Anton also saw the contours of their waists were far too square like they were carrying weapons.

“Their eyes,” one of the villagers whispered, “They look like they've been drugged.”

Anton looked more closely, their eyes did look a little glazed.

“Is that the River-Rush?” he asked the villager.

“Yeah, but you're only meant to have a single stalk a day at most, boiled into a large pot. That looks like they've taken a whole plant each.”

Anton looked towards the group of cultists. He had only seen Jeffrey once, and that was when he first arrived.

“Jeffrey, show yourself! Stop hiding like a rat.”

The silent crowd looked at one another and slowly parted.

A tall bald man was left in the middle. His hands and legs twitched ever so slightly. He looked just like his memory of Jeffrey.

“About time you showed yourself,” Anton said smugly. Jeffrey was still frozen in shock. He must not have expected to have to deal with Anton face to face.

“Why,” Jeffrey stammered, “Why are you here?”

“I think you can figure that out yourself. You think yourself a smart man.”

Jeffrey remained silent. Anton was not sure if he was smart enough to not take the bait or genuinely missed it.

“Okay then. How about all those little stunts that you tried to pull then?” Anton spoke again. “Trying to use the deaths of villagers to start a riot, getting those foolish enough to follow you to try and steal and burn our food.”

Jeffrey was trying his hardest to remain still, but Anton did not miss the twitch on his mouth.

“And what about Cara, then?”

Jeffrey's mouth opened in shock. He quickly regained a semblance of composure, but Anton had not missed it.

“Go on, tell them that you sent her to kill me when the Yellow Goblins attacked. She could have succeeded, if not for Verona.”

Everyone, except Verona, looked at Anton. He stepped down and grabbed the knife from Verona.

“Does anyone recognize this knife?” Anton asked.

He held the blade above his head with just a few fingers, so everyone could get a good look at it. Jeffrey clenched his fists tighter.

“You recognize this then?” Anton asked.

One of Jeffrey's cultists pointed toward the knife then looked at him.

“How does he have that blade?” the cultist asked innocently.

“Shut-up!” Jeffrey hissed at the man.

“But you got it for your tenth-”

Jeffrey punched the man, knocking him to the ground. He rolled around for a few moments before standing, blood dripping from his mouth. The cultist rejoined the line but moved as far away as he could from Jeffrey.

“Didn't you say you would love her, and only her? Pretty cheap for a suicide soldier.”

Anton lowered the knife and twiddled it between his fingers.

“She took her own life when she saw that I could actually heal myself. Did you think that my magic was tricks?”

Jeffrey's face started to turn angry, his followers turning equally angry, though Anton could not tell exactly where it was directed.

Just needs a little push now.

Anton leant down and grabbed the marked bag from Verona.

“Do you recognize this as well?” he asked Jeffrey, “I found this the other night...when we had to kill some thieves. You probably saw the fire, or were you too busy, having too much rumpy-pumpy, to tell?”

Anton chucked the bag at Jeffrey's feet, the cross-section landing up. One of the followers leant down to pick it up, but Jeffrey stopped him.

“Don't,” he hissed, “It's some sort of trap.”

“But, she would never let it out of her sight. She-”

“Shut-up” Jeffrey barked, “You-”

He raised his fist and struck the follower hard, sending him onto the ground.

“I guess that answers the question of whether or not you knew about last night, not that there was any real doubt.”

Jeffrey and the others realized their predicament, going silent.

“So,” Anton stepped down off the crates and walked through the villagers to the front, “Now it's just a question of how you choose to end this.”

“W-What?” one of the followers asked., breaking the silence.

“I personally would love to spend weeks and months constantly having to try and work around you guys. Always letting you run away so you can come back again.” Anton replied, his words dripping with sarcasm. “I gave you far too much leeway when we should have killed you all when you tried to start a riot. But, I don't want to have this drag out any longer. Since we don't have room, resources or desire to put you in a prison, you can surrender and die in mediocrity. Or, you can resist and I'll kill you all where you stand.”

Jeffrey and his followers were stunned, one nearly fainting.

“Another thing, I'm not going to give you all day. So, you make up your mind before I finish counting down from ten. If at the end you can't come to a decision I'll consider you hostile and deal with you as such.”

Anton held up both hands with his fingers outstretched. Slowly he began to close them, one by one. Jeffrey's followers quickly started talking amongst themselves, trying to decide their action. They seemed to not know what to do. Anton slowed down his count to give them a little more time.

“Are they going to surrender?” Verona asked.

“No.” Anton replied, “Not in time and not with Jeffrey there. What is he doing anyway?”

Jeffrey, instead of panicking, was staring straight at Anton. It was unnerving. Both hands were in his pockets, fumbling around for something.

When Anton got to three, the followers were still talking. His whole body started to shake in anger.

“YOUUU!!! PIECE OF SHIT!” Jeffrey was practically spitting with anger.

This should be fun.

“I'M THE SMARTEST MAN IN THIS PATHETIC VILLAGE. I WILL BE THE ONE TO SAVE THESE PEOPLE. AND IT WILL NOT BE THROUGH YOUR LITTLE TRICKS!! THIS IS MY VILLAGE, MY WORLD!! AND YOU WILL NOT HAVE IT!!”

Jeffrey reached deep into his pockets and pulled out a handful of some small green balls, throwing them at Anton.

Anton closed his hands and formed as many lightning bombs as he could.

The other armed villagers turned away to shield themselves. Verona moved in front of Anton and raised her spear, hoping to swat away the projectiles. He flung the lightning bombs as fast as he could, only a few colliding with the small green balls.

As the bombs made contact, they exploded in a shower of green dust, completely obscuring their sight. The gas appeared to have no purpose other than obscuring sight. Nevertheless, he held his breath as best as he could.

“Run!” Jeffrey yelled.

Despite the sounds of confusion coming from the armed villagers, Anton could hear Jeffrey and his cultists running away.

He formed a few very small lightning bombs, flung them into the green haze and detonated them. The haze moved and cleared under the force of the explosion. By the time it had completely cleared, everyone was gone. In the far distance, he saw a foot disappear around a corner. It would only be a few more houses and they would be outside the village.

Anton patted Verona on the head, lowering her guard in response.

“Well, that was a neat trick.” Anton said, “But at least it gives us an answer.”

He turned to the villagers.

“We're going to hunt them down. Make sure that none of them is able to cause any more shit. If they do that to their own side...If they surrender, great. But don't take any risks, a live rat can still bite.”

The villagers seemed a little unhappy, but Avery stepped forward.

“Understood. If they resist in any way, kill them.”

Avery's direct instructions seemed to take away me of their hesitation.

Remember, these aren't hardened soldiers, just people trying to get by.

Anton and the villagers took chase.

They could hear Jeffrey and his followers running away, occasionally something being yelled to tell them to keep moving.

When Anton and the villagers passed the last building they could see them almost at the bone-yard already. Anton brought the armed villagers to a halt.

“How the hell can they run so fast? Is it that River-Rush stuff?” he looked towards the villager that told him about the drug the first time.

The villager nodded. “Yeah, but they'll be really tired after this. Much more than if they just ran normally.”

So it switches off pain receptors and the ability to recognize exhaustion. Probably does the same thing to hunger and thirst, perhaps. Such a thing may be interesting in the future.

Anton looked towards the bone-yard. Jeffrey had disappeared amongst the mounds along with everyone else.

“Avery,” Anton began, “Take everyone and form a perimeter from the edge of the completed wall to the other. Then get some reinforcements, I want more people with us when we go after them.”

“Right away then.” Avery gave a weak salute, taking the armed villagers with him. They quickly started to spread out, keeping a watch towards the south.

Verona looked oddly at Anton, wondering what he had planned.

He squatted down so he was at her eye level.

“Verona, could you please go back for now?”

She frowned and opened her mouth to protest but Anton raised his hand to stop her.

“It's just that you're out of breath already. And we'll be chasing these guys for a while, possibly.”

Verona looked downwards towards her chest. She was breathing quite fast and heavily, it was quite surprised that she had not already noticed.

“Well, just use your healing magic then.” She stammered, placing one hand on her hips.

Well, I really should have remembered that.

“Okay. But please, this time, listen to me and do what I say.”

Anton held her gaze until she agreed. He placed his hand onto her head and chanted the prayer in his mind. Considerable mana left him, almost half, flowing into Verona. It felt like it was repairing quite a lot of things within her.

A moment later Verona looked a lot better, her breathing returning to normal.

“Thanks. I feel much better.”

Something rumbled in the distance, towards the west. Everyone turned and looked. Grey and black clouds were rolling over the forest. They looked quite menacing.

“Tell me that's a rain cloud.” Anton asked loudly.

“Yeah,” replied a villager, “Looks like it'll be a pretty bad one.” She looked towards the south. “Glad I'm not going to be out in that.”

“I hate those things,” Verona added, “The water would leak through the roof, and the lightning flashing through the cracks scared the shit out of me.”

“But mine?”

Verona shrugged and smiled. “That's different though.”

“This can work in our favor. How long before it gets here?”

The female villager looked over at the growing storm again.
“Not until late afternoon.”

Anton looked either side towards the incomplete sections of the wall. It was a little over an eighth of the total distance.

“We should have this done by then.” Anton commented.

Avery was already jogging back to the centre of the village.

“I don't see why we aren't going after them now.” Verona added, “Did you just want them gone all along?”

“Actually, I would have seen him dead. But, they're crazed fanatics. And the more people looking for them the better. Fewer chances of things going wrong.”

Verona looked down in thought as she stood in silence beside Anton.

---[]---

Jeffrey ran with all his might, so much so that by the time he had stopped he was on the verge of vomiting. He, and his loyal followers had made it past the first main bone pile. From this position, they could see the armed villagers spreading out and forming a perimeter.

All twenty six people, including Jeffrey, sat down to catch their breath. He could see that their flight from Atros had taken it's toll, mainly physiologically.

Jeffrey positioned himself at the very edge of a mound of moss and rotting bones, able to look north but not let Anton see him. Even from this distance, he could see Anton's blond head as well as Verona's silver. Just the idea of them being close together was enough for him to feel ill.

“What do we do now?” Someone asked.

Honestly, Jeffrey did not have a clue. He did not really consider the possibility that the plan to take over the food supply and then the city could fail. The smoke bombs that he used before were a relic from his father, one who dabbled with alchemy and chemistry. There was no way that he knew it would still work, but he was thankful that it did. Now it gave him precious time to think.

Thankfully he had calmed down since his little outburst. No one had commented on it, something Jeffrey was thankful for.

“We should have never listened to you.” A woman said, standing up and confronting Jeffrey. She did not have the courage to physically attack but looked on the verge.

“We need a plan,” another said, “And soon. We don't want to be out here when the rain starts.”

The confronting woman backed down. Jeffrey did agree with the other person.

“Atros is lost to us,” Jeffrey said as he turned to the huddling group. “We can't make it to the forest for shelter, and it won't take long for Anton and his minions to find us here.”

He looked around, hoping to find something to take shelter in, but there was nothing. He knew that Atros was the only village that was still standing for miles around.

Surely we can't be the only village to survive. If that ridiculous village led by those idiots could survive, there should be another...Penketh was governed by some reasonable people. Let's try there.

Jeffrey coughed to gain everyone's attention.

“We make for Penketh.”

The look of horror on their faces shocked Jeffrey.

“That's almost a day’s walk, with supplies. And we have none.” a woman said.

“And there could be monsters on the way. Do we even know if it's they're still alive? We haven't seen anybody, not even travellers in some years. That place was smaller than Atros at the beginning.”

Jeffrey waved away their concerns. “The Marshal in charge of Penketh was an old military commander. He would have made that place into a fortress the moment they knew something was wrong. I met him a few times when I was younger. He should listen to me at the very least, he seemed to like our family.”

His followers seemed a little more enthusiastic. The fatigue from the run and the confrontation with Anton was now starting to catch up with him. Most of the strength left his body. He sat on the ground to conserve his energy.

“We'll take a short break now. Get our breath back, and get a few things that could be useful for the journey.”

Jeffrey looked towards the south. Usually, the sky was clear but now against the slowly greying sky, there was something rising into the air. It was smoke, almost clear but definitely smoke. Judging from the distance, it would be coming over from the horizon where Penketh should be.

He reached into a small bag that he kept on his waist, bringing out several green and red stalks. They were River-Rush stalks. He always kept some on him. He did not understand why, but if he did not eat a whole stalk every day he was plagued with headaches and his whole body felt terrible.

He handed them out to his followers. They happily and greedily took it, quickly chewing on the stalks. Their faces and attitude relaxed considerably. There was none of the anger from before. Regardless, they started to gather some of the River-Rush and Spring-Blossom that was lying around. It may not be much, but it should help.

Jeffrey looked to the south again. Seeing the smoke-filled him with a new sense of purpose, and fear.

Anton sent a scout out in all directions. If there was another surviving village I would have heard about it.

He continued to stare towards the south.

What mysteries are you hiding Anton?

---[]---

Anton did not have to wait long for the reinforcements to arrive, probably a little under an hour. Nearly a hundred armed villagers arrived, looking rather enthusiastic.

Avery walked up to Anton, looking quite happy, for him. He placed two fingers into his mouth and whistled, loud enough for Anton and Verona to wince.

The villagers already stationed on the perimeter returned to Avery.

“I guess these are the reinforcements then?” Avery sounded quite impressed.

“Indeed,” Anton replied, “We'll be scouting to the south past the bone-yard and make it back before the storm hits.”

Avery quickly ordered half of the reinforcements to take up the old positions while the other half would join them.

In the distance to the west, Anton could see a dozen carts laden with stone on their return journey.

The hundred armed villagers moved into a rough formation, awaiting new instructions. Avery stepped back, gesturing for Anton to issue the order.

“Stay in groups and do not get separated as we head through the bone-yard. If Jeffrey or any of his followers refuse to surrender, kill them. Nothing more needs to be said.”

The villagers nodded with grim determination.

As they marched to the south, Anton could not help but notice that there was fresh vomit on the grass. From the way it trailed off into the distance, he guessed that they must have running quite fast and hard.

“How long has it been since they left?” Anton asked as they continued to march.

“Not long,” Avery replied, “Sun's not even a quarter of the way up yet.”

“They might still be recovering if it's this bad.”

The trails stopped as they approached the edge of the bone-yard. The large bones piles would be more than enough to hide twenty villagers. He did not want to be ambushed by drugged and angry cultists.

Anton raised his hand, bringing everyone to a halt.

“Stay alert everyone.”

Everyone readied their weapons, Avery his bow. Anton formed a dozen lightning bombs and kept them flickering above his head.

As they passed the first pile, they head something.

“Movement,” Avery whispered as he brought the villagers to a halt, “Sounds like people packing things.”

A metallic click resounded through the silent villagers.

“A buckle?,” Anton said, “Get them!”

The villagers let out a tremendous cry and charged either side of a bone pile, Anton and Verona running on one side with Avery on the other.

They charged around but found nothing. Each group stopped when they saw each other.

“Nobody,” a villager said with dismay, “I thought we heard something.”

Anton held out his hand, stopping both groups. He knelt down, looking at the grass. The other villagers at the front did this as well.

“This grass,” Anton pointed just in front of him, “has been weighed down for a while. See how it's so much flatter compared to the rest?”

“They were here, for some time.” Verona correctly surmised.

“Yes. And they just left...” Anton looked towards the south, patches of slightly compressed grass leading in that direction. “Keep moving south and spread out a little. But don't go by yourself.”

The villagers began to follow the orders and spread out. Avery made his way through the crowd to Anton.

“Any idea why they headed south?” he asked.

“Apart from running from us, no,” Anton replied. “There's nothing that way. Just massive Thumpers and probably Green Goblins if they go far enough.”

Anton looked towards the south, eyes straining to see anything notable through the gaps of the bone piles. The clouds were moving in slowly, though the villagers did not appear to be worried. In the extreme distance, he thought he could see a tiny trail of smoke rising into the air. He was about to voice his findings when a villager shouted.

“Got someone. Looks like they're in bad shape.”

Anton made his way to the villager, Verona following closely behind. Lying a few meters away, were two of Jeffrey's followers. A man and woman were huddling and shaking in fear as Anton approached. He kept his lightning bombs active as he approached.

The two had the glazed look in their eyes, some blood on their clothes.

“Help us.” one cried. “He tried to kill us.”

Anton felt the situation was odd. For an attack, that would leave them this shaken, there was very little blood. A madman, like Jeffrey, would not leave so uninjured if they truly wanted to kill them. Especially so, since they all seemed to be under the effects of 'River-Rush'

“How about you two get up?” Anton asked condescendingly, “Your feet can move by the looks of things.”

Both looked towards their feet, their leather boots were moving independently of their legs.

“We're too weak. Please, we surrender. We can't stand on our own.”

“Fine, you two,” Anton pointed to two of the villagers, “help them up but keep an eye on them.”

“Ugh-”

The two villagers only made a single step before the man let out a noise. Anton stopped them with a raised hand.

“Would you prefer it if I was the one to help you?”

They looked to be genuinely hurt, but Anton knew that he was not the best judge. However, their eyes kept looking to the piles of bones either side, instead of him or the villagers. Something there was more important than what was in front of them.

Anton summoned two large fireballs, keeping the swirling lightning bombs, and flung them atop the bone piles and detonated them. The moss and vines caught alight instantly, followed by screams.

The two followers on the ground looked at each other in horror.

“A really stupid play,” Anton lamented out-loud, “How drugged are you?”

“YOU KILLED MY SON!” the woman shrieked, pulling a blade hidden from underneath and charging at Anton with inhuman speed.

“AND YOU!” Anton yelled back, flinging a lightning bomb at her. The bomb collided with her shoulder, exploding and ripping the arm clean off.

Instead of fumbling the woman kept running, faster than before, her glazed eyes now focused by the pain. There were only a few meters between them and she showed no sign of slowing.

Is this the drugs work?

Anton flung six of the remaining lightning bombs at the woman. Despite her wounded state, she managed to dodge all of them.

The other villagers had only just started to notice that she wasn't dead and tried to attack, but they were too slow. They had only just started to lower their weapons, and Avery drawing his bow.

The light from the explosions, so close, blinded him. He tried to form a flame from his hands but he could not. Anton was gripped with panic, the knife was a few feet away from his chest. He could not get the simple mana to form properly. A few wisps of flame came from his hands, but not enough to phase the charging woman.

Pain came from his left side, but not from the charging woman.

Verona's spear cut through his shirt and nicked his flesh on his left side, continuing into the woman's gut. It did not stop her, the woman continuing to push herself into and over the spear tip, lodging herself on the widest point.

Anton tried to step back, but his feet dug into the grass and tripped. He used his strength to twist and fall to his right, colliding with a villager. As he fell, bringing another villager with him, he saw Verona covered in red, but it was not blood. Her tattoos glowed bright and pulsed with every heartbeat, visible even underneath her thick clothes. Her eyes had changed as well, the white and brilliant crystal blue replaced with the same pulsing blood red.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Verona hissed. She dug her back foot into the ground, the dirt and grass bulging outwards under the pressure. With a shout, she threw the woman forward and onto the ground. The spear dug into the ground, almost up to the halfway point.

The woman screamed under the pain but still did not try to stop her attack. The knife swung wildly around until Verona grabbed it with her right hand.

“I can't believe I felt sorry for you people,” Verona said through gritted teeth. The woman paid no attention, bending and twisting her body so she reaches to attack Verona or Anton.

She's gone crazy. She's going to tear herself to pieces. Both of them are.

Anton's thoughts were prophetic in a sense.

Verona glowed with a renewed intensity, increasing her grip on the woman’s wrist, so much so that Anton could hear the bones groan and break. Keeping her left hand firmly on the spear, she wrenched her right arm up.

Skin, muscle and bone tore as the woman’s arm separated from her body at the shoulder. As Verona chucked the severed arm at the man, the woman screamed and cried in pain. The wounds she had sustained had finally caught up with her.

Droplets of blood suspended themselves unnaturally in the air around Verona, the stream of blood from the fresh wound starting to swirl around her arms.

She held out her hand, fingers outstretched, and clenched it. The tattoo's glowed even brighter.

The seeping blood from the woman rippled and shook. The next moment they burst into crystals, tearing her skin apart. They grew from the wounds and travelled further along her body, ripping apart the skin and bursting free.

A sickening sound of flesh tearing resounded throughout the air.

Her face buckled and contorted with the sharp edges of the growing crystals. She kicked and writhed underneath the pain.

“Why? We're-” she managed to croak as the crystals started to burst from her mouth and throat.

Verona did not reply. She raised her hand, the blood droplets swirling around her hand. Each small droplet began to spin and form tiny and long blood crystals.

She brought her hand down, the crystals following. The crystals smashed through her head, shredding her face through hundreds of blows. The bones were exposed as the flesh was ripped away. Her skull shattered under the repeated blows, bone and brain fragments flying into the air and driven into the ground along with the crystals.

The woman stopped moving, her whole body going limp.

Anton flung another lightning bomb at the impaled woman, ripping what little was left apart. Remnants of organs and flesh splattered everything around, even Verona.

Verona's body shook from the blast. It seemed to jolt her back to reality, her head twitching either side as she lowered her hands.

The blood crystals quivered and lost their solid form, seeping back into the body and onto the ground. Fresh blood started to seep from the innumerable punctures caused by the crystals.

Verona's tattoos started to lose their glow, her eyes returning to normal. The red receded to the corner of her eyes and disappeared all together.

She started breathing harder. Both hands shook violently as she stumbled back away from the body.

Anton got up, using a villager as a step, and gingerly touched her shoulder.

“Ugh,” she groaned, falling into his arms. He held her tight, her breathing quickly becoming more regular. She grasped tightly at his shirt as she looked at the mutilated body lying on the ground.

“By the gods, how?... Did I do that?” Her voice trembled from exhaustion.

“Some of it. The arm was your work. And most of the other parts.”

Verona glanced at the severed arm and the woman it was ripped from. She grabbed her right arm and pulled down.

“It...felt like I was tearing off a leaf. How-”

“We'll figure that out later, we're still in battle.”

Anton nodded towards the man still lying on the ground. He had not moved, though the ground around him was wet.

“Somebody check on those piles, see how many people were hiding up there.”

The flames were dying out rapidly. A few villagers, those with thick shoes, quickly ran up to where the screams came from.

“Two over here.”

“Three here.” The villagers shouted down.

“Any weapons?” Anton shouted back.

“Some knifes and a pile of smooth rocks. Looks like they're for throwing.”

“Same here.”

“Alright, come on back.”

The villagers ran back, seemingly glad to be off the smouldering piles of remains.

“So,” Anton looked straight through the man on the ground, summoning another lightning bomb and keeping it in front of him, “Why were you left behind?”

Anton's question brought up some insecurities in the man. He backed up and shoot Anton an angry yet fearful look.

“We chose this.” The man did not speak with much confidence. “To buy the faithful time.”

“Faithful...” Anton scoffed at the idea, “To what? Attack Atros while it's down again?”

The man backed up, breathing heavily through his nose and refused to speak. He glanced towards the south once, before snapping his head back and locking it towards Anton.

“Ah, the smoke then and whatever lit it. Too bad our scouts found nothing but grass and monsters.” Anton grinned and looked towards the south, “What awaits him past the Thumpers and Goblins I wonder.”

He turned back to the man.

“Do you surrender?” Anton asked.

The man backed up even further but refused to say anything else.

“Fine.”

Anton flung a lightning bomb at his head. It exploded as the bomb collided.

Verona curled herself into his arms to avoid watching.

He turned to the other villagers. “Scout quickly to the edge of the bone-yard and report back, quickly!”

A dozen villagers, at the back, nodded and ran towards the south. They returned a few moments later.

“You'll want to see this.” one said.

Verona still felt weak in his arms. He used one hand to try and rip her spear from the ground, but he could not. The spear barely budged even when using all his strength.

How far did she ram this thing into the dirt?

Verona started to look a little uneasy about Anton struggling. She tried to remove it herself, but Anton stopped her and motioned for some others to help. It took two to finally free the spear. Almost a foot had been impaled into the dirt.

Verona looked a little sheepish as the spear was handed back to her.

The scouts led them through the bone-yard to the edge. The land to the south was flat and open, baring the depressions that housed the Thumpers. In the far distance, they could see ten figures running away.

“Odd.” Anton said aloud.

Avery and Verona, still under Anton's arm, turned to him.

“There should still be roughly twenty with Jeffrey, where are the rest?”

A villager pointed to a large depression. Out of the hole, a large Thumper jumped out. Then another and another. The three were fighting over something. Their grey-white fur becoming red with every movement. One tossed up the object into the air, charging and fighting the other two.

The object was a body, bloody and torn apart. From their distance, Anton had no idea if they were alive or dead. Any movement could be from being thrown around.

“Guess the rest that aren't still running are now chew toys. I wonder If taking out the Alpha Thumper made the others compete for the title.”

No-one answered, though Anton felt that it was a distinct possibility.

“We're done here. Everyone return to Atros and get some rest.”

I wonder what's causing that smoke, not human I think.

Anton took one final look towards the south before leaving with the others.

Chapter 015 - Vol 1

Chapter 015:

Anton and the villagers walked in silence back through the bone-yard. Most seemed happy that they would not have to be doing any fighting themselves. Only a few had actually killed something, and that was mostly when the Yellow Goblins attacked. Even then, it would have probably been one or two.

Watching, and being near, someone that had killed more than them, and more violently, had left its mark on the villagers. They kept their distance from Verona as they walked back to Atros.

Anton had sent Avery to the front to keep some sort of order. This left Anton and Verona alone at the back. She was still weak, Anton having to carry her underneath his arm just to get her to keep walking. Her first use of her power, whatever it really was, seemed to have greater side-effects than just seemingly becoming possessed.

Every so often she would groan in pain and her hands and arms would spasm. It took a lot out of her to control these, having to try and fight herself. The muscles on her neck tensed and tightened, before sinking back only to rise during the next spasm. Thankfully they were rapidly becoming less frequent. Anton used what mana he could spare to heal her, which seemed to help.

Every step seemed to be getting easier for her.

As they passed the last bone pile, she tapped his arm.

“I feel a bit better. I can walk by myself.”

He loosened his grip, allowing her to take a few tentative steps.

“I'm alright,” Verona said as she stopped and turned towards him.

She was about to say something else when another wave of spasms overtook her arms. He rushed forward and caught her weight under his arms.

Her body felt incredibly warm, even though her thick clothes. A quick glance at her face told him that it was not that bad, or she was very good at hiding the pain.

She shook her head as he slowly retracted.

“I'm starting to think that whatever this is,” Verona started rubbing her back, “Is not worth it.”

He tussled her head, Verona chuckling as she twisted and freed herself from his hand.

“We'll figure it out.” He said as he got her walking again.

She continued walking for a few paces before stopping and turning to face him. Leaning towards him she started ginning inanely.

“Got an idea for the name yet?” she asked. “How about...Blood Smasher?”

“I...really don't think so. You ripped someone’s arm off and smashed in a face all while you were in a trance.” He nodded towards the rest of the villagers, “I think that's why they're afraid of you.”

Verona looked towards them. She cocked her head before turning back to Anton.

“Didn't really think of that. Do you think that they're that afraid-”

A crack of thunder, from the south, stopped Verona. She ducked slightly along with the other villagers. They stopped and looked towards the south as well. Another lightning bolt landed close, only a few seconds gap between the flash and the clap.

Verona chuckled nervously.

“I thought that was you for a moment.”

Anton looked towards the south as well.

The thunderstorm had covered most of the south and everything was obscured by the rain. Lightning ran through the clouds and striking the ground, sending flashes of pinkish light and deep rumbling towards them.

“I wouldn't like to be out in that.” A villager said aloud. The others nodded in agreement.

A whistle from the front, probably from Avery, got the villagers moving again. Verona waited until she was next to Anton before she started walking again.

“I hope he freezes to death.” she said, a look of joy in her eyes, “I...”

“If we see him again, I'll kill him before he can open his mouth.”

She seemed very happy, even as another spasm overtook her right arm. It stopped as quickly as it came.

“How long do you think we'll need to figure this power out?” she asked.

“I actually have an idea. But I want to check back with the others first, make sure that Bertram and, more likely, Jeff, are okay.”

---[]---

Icy rain poured off of Jeffrey's head, soaking into his clothes. The very warmth from his life was being drawn out by the cold. Not even the constant eating of River-Rush made the feeling go away, not that he had much feeling left in his body. Every so often, something hard struck his body. Hail started to lightly cover the ground. The storm, raging above, was a bad one.

His perception of time had disappeared as well. He had no idea how far or how long he had been running. Every step seemed to thud into the ground, like it had turned into a swamp, requiring a colossal effort just to take another.

Thunder roared overhead, lighting the sodden grass and bushes in a flickering and sporadic fashion.

Over the sound of the thunder, he heard something heavy land behind him. For a moment he thought it was a pursing Thumper, but it was equally bad.

Another of his followers has succumbed to the cold. Of the dozen that had fled with him, only three were still alive. Now there was one less. They had just given up.

One of the survivors reached and grasped Jeffrey's shirt, the water gushing out of his sodden woollen clothes.

“The cold is in my bones...What...are...we.....”

Jeffrey turned to his side. The man had let go of his shoulder and had fallen face first onto the ground. He did not move as they continued running.

Looking towards, what he thought was the south, there was nothing that he could see. No signs of a city, village or even a small camp. He guessed that he should have reached, or at least be able to see, the source of the smoke.

This, this is all his fault. That's why I'm out here, in this freezing rain and not in the comfort of the village.

Another bolt of lightning crashed down in front of him.

I will not die here. I will not die here. I WILL NOT DIE HERE!

As he let out his mental cry, one of the people next to him shrieked in pain, her voice piercing over the rumbling of the thunder and the splashing of the rain. His heart started to race as he looked towards her.

She clutched at her head. Blood mixed with the pouring rain as it ran outside her hand. She pulled her hand away and looked stunned at the blood. That part of her head seemed odd like it had been dented.

As a lightning bolt flashed overhead something caught his eye, flying vertically through the rain. It was a dark rock, the wetness shining under the lightning the only way of identifying it.

The rock struck the woman between the eyes. A sickening crack reverberated through the air, even over another thunderbolt running through the clouds.

Not a sound came out of her as she fell backwards, dead.

Jeffrey tried his best to look through the heavy rain to see its source. Another large lightning bolt landed closely, roughly in the direction of the stone.

There were figures, dozens of them, moving rapidly towards them.

The cold and tiredness had hampered his ability to think straight. Another flash of lightning and he could see dozens of rocks flying towards him. He tried to dodge but it was too late.

He felt a rock collide with his arm, then his chest and stomach. Everything went white as he crashed onto the ground, the breath ripped from him. Unfortunately for him, his vision and thoughts returned.

Jeffrey looked around.

The other villager had not been hit, but was in a state of paralytic panic. No more rocks flew for some time.

Another flash of lightning and he saw the figures had gotten extremely close. Under the light, he could see that the figures were wearing raggedy and patchy coats, seemingly made out of some sort of fur. The water rolled off in great beads, keeping the green skin underneath dry.

It was when he saw the colour of the skin, Jeffrey began to lose all hope for his life. Their green faces were horribly deformed human ones, wearing nothing else but a loose cloth around their waists. He knew what they were, Green Goblins.

Over a dozen Green Goblins were approaching. He could see the slings and wooden weapons, held by their scrawny hands.

Two ran and clobbered the still standing man. His neck broke and fell lifelessly. The two immediately began to fight amongst themselves, others quickly running and joining in the fight. Some of the smaller Green Goblins skirted the growing scuffle and knelt down around the dead villagers. They bit into the flesh, ripping it with jagged teeth. Blood and chunks of flesh dripped out of their mouths as they began to devour the body. More and more Green Goblins swarmed the bodies, fighting for positions.

By the gods. Please, don't let this happen to me.

Several of the Green Goblins started to circle him. They poked him with their longest weapons, surprised when he coughed, swung and kicked in defiance.

A group of slightly larger and higher ranking, judging by the number of animal skulls hanging from their necks, pulled the others back. These four were armed with rusty swords and maces.

The impacts from the rocks felt like nothing, he knew his mind was telling his body to fight. As he struggled to his feet, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

It was the same type as the same one that Cara had tried to kill Anton with. Thinking of him gave him the anger and rage needed to fight.

He held it in his right hand and readied himself to fight.

The Green Goblins, even those with the rusty weapons, held themselves back. He could see that there could be at least fifty of them.

Groups this size should have turned on each-other...but not if there's something strong to keep them in line. It shouldn't be one of these, but if I can intimidate them...

A wicked smile grew on his face. Even in the relative darkness of the raging storm, he could see them twist their face in confusion. They had no idea of what Jeffrey had planned for them.

“Well,” he said mockingly, biting on a whole stalk of River-Rush, “Who's going to be first?”

The four-armed Green Goblins looked at one another. One, with a large rusty sword, shrieked at the smaller Green Goblins still trying to feast on the body.

They quickly stopped and surrounded Jeffrey, the blood on their faces mixing with the rain and dripping down their faces.

“Come on!” Jeffrey yelled, hoping to start the fight evenly.

The smaller Green Goblins stayed still while the armed four advanced and surrounded him evenly.

Don't want to make this easy.

Hoping to take them to by surprise, he lunged at the goblin in front of him. He took two steps before his right ankle screamed in pain. As he tumbled he saw a rock, just like those to kill and wound his followers, covered in blood next to his ankle.

A goblin in the circle surrounding him had an empty sling and a disgustingly wicked smile on its deformed face.

Damn you!!!

An armed Green Goblin, to the right, swung his mace at his knee. He felt his bones and muscles break under the impact, his body crumpling and sliding on the wet grass. Chunks of dirt and grass filled his teeth.

Jeffrey rolled onto his back, coughing for breath.

The armed Green Goblins kept the others back as they advanced, stopping as they stood over him.

“Please,” Jeffrey whimpered through short breaths, “Don't hurt me.”

The goblins looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders.

Jeffrey's heart sank to an impossibly low place as they raised their weapons.

Why must I die like this?

The weapons cut and tore into his flesh. He tried to fight back, but his hands caught the spikes of the mace and were torn apart.

The last thing he saw was a sword, illuminated in the rain and a final burst of lightning, as it pierced his throat and into his spine.

Pain, excruciating pain. Then nothing.

---[]---

Atros's southern section of the wall was already under construction when they arrived. Zac was already in the process of unloading a full load of stone, using the villagers left on the perimeter as help. Those villagers seemed a little annoyed that they had to be lifting the heavy stone, rather than standing around on guard duty.

Zac gave him a wave, pointing towards the villagers who were laying the stone at the most southerly point. He yelled something and the villagers quickly removed the stone, making a small opening.

“We're leaving a gap here for the gate,” Zac shouted at Anton. He lightly slapped several of the villagers of the back of the head. They seemed to take it well.

“Felt that it would be good to have one on each direction,” he said rather proudly.

Avery kept the villagers moving into the village before turning back to meet with Anton, who had stopped when he passed Zac.

“I'm going to keep the archers training. Make sure that we are ready for the Yellow Goblins. I think I speak for everyone else that we'll be glad to be fighting non-humans again.”

“I hope it will be that way for some time as well. Verona did some serious shit back there.”

Avery nodded in agreement.

“I just head from someone that no-one's seen Jeff this morning,” Avery replied.

“That's right,” Zac continued, “I think that you should try and have a talk with him. Bertram and Jonathan are in the main plaza should you want to talk to them first. Also, what do you mean about Verona?”

Verona was not listening, keeping her attention towards the south and the growing thunderstorm.

“Talk to Avery about that one,” Anton said, tapping Verona lightly on her shoulder. “I'll explain everything tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll have figured out what happened to her.”

“Oh yes, I heard that she injured herself the other night,” Zac said looking towards Verona, perhaps wondering where the wound was.

“It's not that,” Anton replied. “Just ask the villagers, they'll tell you.”

Zac raised his bushy eyebrows in confusion, looking towards Avery. Avery took a deep breath and placed his hand on his shoulder.

Anton took Verona, who's attention was ripped away from the south as he bumped her shoulder, and led her to the plaza. She seemed quite happy as she walked beside him. The spasms had seemingly stopped, now she walked with quite the spring in her step.

In the distance, he could hear Zac shouting in surprise, presumably as Avery explained what Verona had done.

As they entered the main plaza, they found it a hive of activity. People were running in all directions, carrying chunks of burnt wood towards the north of Atros.

Verona glanced at Anton before tugging at his sleeve.

“Do you think there's another battle coming up?”

“Don't think so.” He scanned the crowd for Bertram and found him and Jonathan standing outside of the burned down barn, issuing orders to the villagers. “But let's find out.”

The pair walked through the bustling crowds to meet them. Some of the villagers stopped and looked at Verona. Anton could not help a sense of apprehension in their eyes. He was an anomaly in their lives, so he could do strange things. But she was someone that they had lived with all their lives, now has completely changed. He sighed inwardly. There was nothing he could do, at least until she figured out her newfound powers.

Bertram and Jonathan finished giving the orders before turning their attention to Anton and Verona.

“Is it over?” Bertram asked. He looked like he had aged several years overnight.

“We took out a few,” Anton replied, “The rest ran through the Thumpers and into the storm.”

He cocked his head back to the south, the clouds were continuing to spread.

“I don't want to be out in that, especially if what everyone says is true.”

“Well,” Jonathan kicked at the dirt, “That should be the last time we hear of that. Unfortunately, other things have happened this morning. Some quite serious.”

“Such as?” Verona asked.

“For one,” Jonathan replied, “Jeff is holed up in his house and doesn't want to come out. That also leads us to problem number two.”

Bertram coughed and continued, “About eighty Yellow Goblins, all wearing animal skin armour, have been seen lurking around the closest ridge. The scouts had to pull back for safety, and we think there's another group of almost eighty as well roaming about. This storm seems to have pushed them back to the mountain, but I guess it won't be long before they attack properly.”

Anton placed his hand on his chin. With everything that had happened, he had not noticed that he had started to grow a beard. Another problem, though not as big as the problems facing him right now.

“I take it we have people on the wall keeping watch?”

Bertram nodded. “On all sections of the wall and in all directions. We don't want them to burst through another area that we're not watching.”

“I think that we can consider problem two sorted, for now at least. I'll try and talk to Jeff. His current mood is partly my fault.”

“Thank-you,” Bertram said, the added years lifting instantly. “Just don't do anything too bad. He's my only son. He lives straight towards the north, it's the one with the big skull on the front.”

---[]---

Both of them found the house after a little searching. It looking like every other house did not help, except the large skull hanging over the front door.

“I like the skull,” Verona said offhandedly.

Anton heard something, like wood clunking on wood, coming from inside.

A mug maybe. Hope he's not drinking himself to death.

He stepped up and knocked on the door. A moment later he heard movement, coming towards the door. It opened, Sam smiling and greeting them.

“Hey Anton.” she leant down slightly, “Hello Verona.”

Sam grabbed Verona by the head and brought her into an embrace, Verona not having time to react. She looked at Anton with some fear, though relaxed after a few moments, realizing that there was no ill intent.

Eventually, after nuzzling into Verona's hair, Sam stopped moving but kept her arms wrapped her head. She started to swing either side, Verona's face forming a feigned scowl.

“You need to tell me how you get your hair so soft. Oh, a little blood.” Sam gave a final rub of her head before letting go and giving her a little push towards Anton. Verona stumbled but Anton caught her.

Sam smiled. “I take it you're hear to talk to Jeff? He's quite down at the moment, though I don't really know why. Jeffrey gave me the creeps.”

She sighed and took a deep breath. “And, he's not listening to me, just drinking. Can you have a talk to him? See if that gets something out of him.”

“Sure,” Anton replied, “I'll give it a go.”

“He's on the right as you go in,” Sam said as Anton entered, Verona following.

“Hold up there you.” Sam grabbing Verona, stopping her from entering. “This is something just between boys. Besides, I have a few questions to ask you.”

Verona looked desperately at Anton.

“It'll be fine,” Anton said grinning, “I trust her.”

He put emphasis on trust, Sam picking up his meaning.

“It's just girl talk, head on in now.” Sam wrapped her arm Verona's head, using the other to shoo Anton in. She moved towards two chairs on the porch.

Now that's just code for gossip and stuff. They won't be talking while I'm here. Better stop procrastinating.

Anton took a deep breath and entered the house.

The inside was only marginally decorated, mainly with skulls and other trophy like ornaments. There was a single hallway, leading to a room to the left, right and the back. Noise came from the right.

As he turned the corner to the right, the smell of alcohol burned his nose. There was a long wooden table in the middle with six chairs sitting around it. Jeff sat at the end, a large wooden mug and a barrel, full of the drink that burned like fire, at his side. From the way Jeff hunched over the table and swayed from side to side, he evidently had already drunk quite a bit.

He noticed Anton enter, raising his head and rubbing his eyes to become as alert as the alcohol would allow him.

“Hey, Anton.” Jeff spoke, relatively clearly, “I take it that since you're here that it's over with?”

Anton found an empty mug underneath the table, poured himself a drink and took a chair next to him.

“Yeah. That should be the last we hear of him and his followers.”

Anton took a sip, the drink burning just like he remembered.

“What do you mean, 'should'?”

“I killed a few, the others escaped south and were torn apart by rampaging Thumpers. The rest are caught up in the storm, with no shelter for tens of miles in any direction.” Anton leant back in his chair. “I think that it's safe to say they're done.”

Jeff let out a low grunt.

Neither said anything for some time, each taking small sips of their drinks.

“I'm sorry,” Jeff said, downing the remains of his drink. “I really shouldn't be drinking myself to death over this. I just grew up with him, and he seemed nice enough. Stopping him from making a riot was fine. Killing him was a step too far, for me though.”

Anton drunk what was left in the mug. “Killing someone that you trusted is not something you can ever get used too.”

Jeff chuckled, looking into the empty mug. “No. No, it's not. Do you know something about it?”

Anton hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “I don't really remember, but I may have.”

Jeff looked even more sombre.

“What is this stuff anyway,” Anton asked, trying to change the topic.

“Something that Zac cooks up. Doesn't tell us what it's made from, but it's bloody strong.”

“That it is.” Anton felt the after-taste come up.

Jeff slammed the mug down.

“That's enough mopping around, this won't get anything done.” Jeff said, wiping his mouth, “Guess I look like a little girl to the others.”

“Well, I wouldn't say that.”

Jeff looked angrily at Anton for just a moment, before erupting in laughter. He leant over and shook him heartily before pouring them both another mug.

“Ah, that shit's strong. By the way, where is Verona?” Jeff asked, slapping his face with both hands, “She definitely would have followed you, doesn't seem like much would stand in her way. She's become quite attached to you, first time I've seen her so happy in a long time.”

Jeff downed the mug in one go.

“Come on,” he said, getting out of his chair with a little sway, “We'd better go save her then. Sam can be a little aggressive when she wants to get some gossip.”

When Anton, and a slightly drunk Jeff, exited the house they found Verona and Sam happily chatting outside.

“Hey,” Sam noticed them first, standing up and hugging Jeff, “I thought you would stay like that all day.”

Jeff returned the hug and kissed her deeply. She chuckled, wiping her mouth. “I can taste that stuff in your mouth.”

“Sorry. Just got a little caught up with myself. Feel quite a bit better now.”

That's just the booze starting to kick in. Helped your mind clear though, thankfully.

They appeared quite happy together, slowly nuzzling while in each-others embrace. Verona looked a little awkward as she walked back to Anton's side.

“Anything interesting?” Anton asked. He did not expect a proper answer, asking out of politeness.

“A few things.” Verona looked at Sam, still in Jeff's embrace. “But I'm not meant to tell you.”

“That's fine. Jeff, when you're ready can you get some training in with the other villagers before the storm hits?”

Jeff reluctantly broke his embrace and nodded towards Anton. Sam rushed and hugged Anton lightly.

Anton did not miss the glance she made to Verona. Verona frowned and pouted ever so slightly, but when his eyes met hers, she stopped.

“Thanks,” she whispered into his ear, “Seeing him down was getting to me. Now, run along you two. Jeff and I need to 'make-up'.”

She leaned into Anton's ear. Sam patted him on the back before trotting back to Jeff's embrace.

“Just so you know, I never like Jeffrey anyway.”

Jeff looked quite slyly at Sam, who slapped him on the bum as he started to walk to the north.
“Have fun you two,” Anton yelled back as he made his way to the south. He looked over his shoulder when he did not hear footsteps beside him. Verona was still next to Sam and looking far into the distance. Sam noticed Anton looking and bumped Verona on the back. Verona jolted when she was touched, glancing at Sam, who lent down and whispered something into her ear. Verona nodded and ran to catch up with Anton.

Sam looked quite sheepish as she watched Verona catch up with Anton.

I hope you haven't taught her anything weird.

He looked down at Verona, she looked happily at him though he noticed that her face had a hint of redness.

---[]---

Anton found Bertram and Jonathan outside the burned barn, still directing traffic. Bertram seemed incredibly relieved to hear that his son was better. Anton did admit that he was probably about to come out anyway and that he actually did very little.

The storm only seemed about an hour or two away, hopefully enough to start to figure out Verona's new powers.

He wanted somewhere that would be large enough, had no people and would be safe if Verona got out of control. Every building that stood was already being used for an important purpose, and he did not want to do it inside the Main Hall.

However, it did give him an idea. He took Verona behind the Main Hall, in front of the Karak tree. There were no villagers coming through this area, and it was more than large enough to start practising. Potential damage to the tree was an issue, so Anton led them as far away as possible while still being in the vicinity.

He took Verona's spear and leant it against a building, there would be time for using that later.

“How do you feel right now?” Anton asked. He wanted to make sure that she did not push her body too far, especially considering what he knew she could do.

Verona jumped and stretched her arms, she looked okay.

“I feel pretty good. We gonna' try now?”

“You bet. What do you remember just before you started using the powers?”

She looked up at the sky with a vacant expression.

“Something odd. I think I've got it. It's hard to describe, but there's something that I can grab hold of. With my mind? I'll be careful.”

“Just be careful about overdoing it.”

She stood still for some time, for what he thought was almost an hour. Occasionally her head would twitch but nothing seemed to change.

Just when Anton was about to say something, the tattoos around her wrist and neck flickered for the briefest instant. She opened her eyes at looked straight at Anton.

“I felt that!” She rolled her sleeves up and rubbed the exposed sections of the blood tattoos. “There was something and I actually got hold of it.”

“That's great.” Anton said with enthusiasm, “Just take it steady.”

“Okay.” She started to calm down with slow and deep breathing.

She closed her eyes again. Red flickered within the tattoos, growing in intensity and regularity.

Slowly it became a steady but bright glow, piercing through her clothes. As she opened her eyes he was greeted with the blood red, but without the insanity behind them.

“This...this feels strange,” Verona said tentatively, slowly moving her arms as she walked around in circles.

“Can you see anything different?” Anton asked as he gently held her hands. She grinned from ear to ear as she looked at her glowing tattoos.

“Everything looks the same...I feel a little lighter though.”

“At least it seems like you can turn whatever it is on. Can you get rid of the glow for me?”

Verona closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. The glow quickly receded. As she opened her eyes he saw the redness recede to the edges of her eyes.

“Alright, can you bring it back?”

This time Verona did not close her eyes. He watched the tattoos begin to glow and the redness fill her eyes, like ink being absorbed into the paper. He had not seen it happen this way before. They way it seemed to take over her beautiful blue eyes was unsettling, to say the least.

“I got it under control, I think.”

“Just make sure that it doesn't hurt you in some way. If it does, don't use it.”

Anton took a few steps back and grabbed the spear. Verona retook her weapon with a sense of hesitation.

“You had a lot of strength when you first used that power.”

Anton found a spare plank of rotten wood lying at the base of a building, laying it up right next to the building.

“Try smashing that. Let's see how it affects your strength.”

Verona, keeping the glow as bright and steady as she could, walked up to the plank with her spear lowered. She took a deep breath and swung the spear with both hands, using all the might she could muster as the muscles along her arms tensed.

The tip connected with the large plank. Instead of smashing through the weakened wood, it merely tumbled and rolled onto the ground. The spear wobbled ever so slightly after the strike.

Verona looked stunned as she brought the spear back to her side. She clenched and stretched her hands.

“That really hurt. Everything else I've tried to cut or stab actually did that.”

“Odd,” Anton said aloud, “you should have been able to smash that, considering what you did to that woman's arm.”

“Hang on, let me have another go.”

Verona raised her spear and thrust it at the plank of wood over and over again. Each time she hit the metal dip dug in, sending chips and bursts of rotten wood into her face. No matter how much she tried, she could not recreate the immense amount of power she had displayed.

Eventually, after much swearing and smashing, the plank broke in two. Verona's face was covered in sweat, the rest of her body appeared to be the same.

“I can't seem to do it,” Verona said, stopping her attacks. She checked her tattoos, realizing that they were still glowing brightly.

“We'll work on that later...do you remember the other thing you did?”

Her face darkened a little as she looked towards him.

“The part where, somehow, I made blood crystals and ripped somebody apart from the inside with them?”

Anton awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“My memory is a little foggy, but I still remember that.”

“Basically...yes.”

Verona's expression returned to normal. She looked around, causing Anton to raise an eyebrow in response.

“I don't have any blood to use.”

“Oh, right.”

Anton walked up and grabbed the knife from Verona's waist. She looked bemused, raising her arms in response. He held out his finger, the blade's edge upon it.

“Wha-” was all that Verona could say.

He cut lightly into his hand, enough for a small drop of blood to form.

“Why did-,” she said, concern on her face, before realizing what he was doing, “Oh, I understand.”

“Just try to get this little drop to do something and not the exploding crystal thing. If it looks like it's getting out of control, I will shock you to get you to stop.”

Instead of anger at him threatening to shock her, she seemed quite revealed. Evidently, she did not feel that confident about her potential control of her powers. After watching Anton's attempts at discovering and controlling his own powers, perhaps it was understandable.

She walked up to him and held both hands around his finger. Frowning with exertion and concentration, she groaned as she tried to make it do something. She grew increasingly frustrated as nothing happened.

With her finger, she collected as much of the blood as she could and held it on her own finger, staring intently at the blood. Nothing happened again. She grumbled and wiped it on her clothes, starting to pace in front of him.

Anton used the prayer power to heal the small wound.

“Okay, Okay,” she mumbled allowed, occasionally glancing at Anton, “I first could do it when...”

Verona stopped and looked at Anton.

“When?” Anton asked, trying to keep her thinking.

“After I stabbed the woman with my spear. The blood that I first used was from the wound, I think. So...”

Verona offered the spear to Anton. He took it off her and used the edge to make another cut into his hand.

She stretched out her hands and tried to get the blood to move, but she could not.

“Ugh, how easy was it for you?” she asked, folding her arms and starting to pace again.

“I had gods to help me understand the basics, but even then there are things I have to do before I can use magic. Like having to form the magic into specific shapes, then I can use different types of magic. Perhaps yours has some specific thing you have to do first.”

Verona started then stopped pacing, taking back the spear.

“I used the spear so...”

With some trepidation, she ran the edge of the spear against Anton's hand, enough to draw some blood. She looked a little nervous as she moved her hand over his.

Nothing happened for a second. Verona's eyes shot open, looking straight at his hand. Small droplets of blood started to lift themselves off his hand and around hers. The action was so astounding for her that she dropped the spear.

She took several steps back, playing with the small droplets that she moved between her hand. The droplets formed into three and swirled around one hand before flying over to the other.

“I knew I could do it!” Verona triumphantly exclaimed. “I guess that the spear allows me to do it.”

She looked straight at Anton for a moment.

“You said I had a spear on the mark. Do you think that's why?”

“It could be.” Anton agreed.

He turned the healing power on himself, quickly healing his wounds.

Verona turned her attention back to the droplets. They fused into one. Her tattoos glowed a little brighter, the blood quivering and solidifying into a long crystal, just like the ones she used to destroy the woman's head.

She moved the crystal to the centre of her hands, which she held cupped in front of her. The crystal spun faster and began to form ever more complex shapes, her tattoos flickering every time it changed. She stopped as it formed what he thought was a tiny flower, made from blood.

Verona's smiled as she looked at Anton, slowly pushing it towards him. He tentatively touched it, incredibly hard and sharp.

“That was easier than I thought.” She brought her hand up and rubbed her head. “Though, this is taking it out of me.”

The crystal quivered and returned to a droplet. She kept it in her hands as she looked expectantly at Anton.

He healed his wound, handing Verona the knife and swapping it for the spear. Inspecting the spear, he found nothing of note about it.

Verona's mouth twitched as she rubbed her back.

“What's wrong?”

“My back, right in the middle, just felt like it got hit with something...Can you have a look?”

She turned around and lifted the back of her shirt. The spear within the blood droplet had changed to a knife, just like the one she now wielded.

“Okay, Verona. I want to try something else.” Anton pricked his finger with the spear. “Can you try with this one?”

“Sure.”

Pushing the droplet to the side, and putting the knife on her waist, she put her hand over his hand. She tried to bring the blood up but could not.

After a few seconds, she gave up, looking quite dejected.

Anton wiped the blood on his clothes and healed his wound.

He got Verona to use the knife to create another drop of blood.

This one she could bring up, making both of them dance around each other.

He handed back the knife, then the spear. Verona winced a little.

“Same feeling?”

“Yeah.” Verona rubbed her back lightly before looking straight at him. “You look like you have an idea.”

“Show me the mark again.”

This time the mark within the blood drop had changed back to the spear.

Okay, I think that I understand how it works. Rather a specific activation to use it though.

Anton got her to lower her shirt.

“I've just had a thought. Could you try pricking your own finger with the spear.”

Verona nodded, creating a small drop of blood. She held her other hand over the blood.

Her whole body hunched over as though she had just been punched in the gut. She used the spear to steady herself as Anton rushed forward to help her up. The blood droplets quivered but remained hovering and under her control.

“Ugh...that was not good.” Verona coughed as she righted herself.

“What was that?”

“Something screamed in my head.” Verona rubbed her head with her spare hand. “Then it hit me in the chest...I don't think I can use my own blood.”

“Well...I suppose using your own blood to fight would kill you pretty quickly.”

Verona nodded, not wanting to try again. She licked the blood off her finger then held out her hand, for Anton to heal.

“One thing before we start the next part, how much effort does it to require to move and change the blood?”

Verona thought long and hard before answering.

“Just moving the blood and making it hard doesn't take too much. But making the flower took a bit out of me.”

If to demonstrate, she merged the two droplets of blood and made them crystallize. The crystal was not very thick, but it looked impossibly sharp. It should be able to puncture through just about any sort of flesh.

“Well, your understanding of how to move and control it is coming along extremely quickly, so that's good.”

Verona kept the crystal in front of her as she lowered her hands.

“But?”

“But it seems like yours is rather more complicated than my magic in order to function.”

Verona pursed her lips and frowned.

“The mark on your back, the one you can't see, by the way, has whatever weapon you hold on it. That's what the little jolt was.”

“Okay...”

“And that's the only one that you can use to get blood that you can control, not just any blood. If you change weapons, you can keep control of the blood you already have under control. The god probably thinks that's too easy for you if it's just any blood..” Anton said the last part offhandedly.

Verona grumbled but still seemed happy.

“It may change in time, like how I could use the flame pillars. I would like to see if you can control blood released from the blood you control, some sort of runaway reaction...that would be devastating.”

She seemed a little happier though she did not seem to understand the meaning of the last part.

“It seems pretty simple. I'll just stick to this spear then.” She twirled the spear in her hands. “And, since you can't tell how draining it its, like I can't tell how much mana you have, changing the shape of the blood doesn't seem to be that difficult, but making them change into more...complex...shapes takes a bit more effort. It seemed just as easy to control two as one, though controlling hundreds might be a little difficult.”

“Good to know Ver.” He rubbed her head vigorously, proud of her deductions, “You should probably keep the knife, just in case. I should probably get one myself.”

Thunder roared at the edge of the village, only a few kilometres away. He had been so distracted by trying to figure out her magic that he had not noticed it move so much closer, nor the change in temperature.

“I think that wraps it up for today,” Anton said as he grabbed the planks of wood and moved them off the road, Verona quickly helping him.

“I think we'll do some more tests, like how many, large, shapes and what sort of limitations exist can be found out later.”

The first drop of water hit his head, telling him they should be getting inside. Anton noticed that Verona still had the two blood shards above her head.

“Hey, can you get rid of those?”

“Hmm?” Verona looked up and saw them, “Oh right.”

She moved them in front and transformed them back into droplets. A single large drop of water collided with one of the blood droplets, sending it tumbling and splattering onto the ground. The other remained stationary in the air.

Verona looked stunned.

“I...I lost control of it. That's not good for me, is it?”

Anton nodded in agreement. The other had not been hit by water yet.

“Quickly, turn that one into a crystal.”

Verona nodded as the blood crystallized and turned as flat and as wide as it could so it could be more easily struck by the water. She moved it well in front of her and looked up at the sky. More drops of rain started to fall down all around them.

Eventually one landed on the crystal, running along and off onto the ground. The crystal remained stationary, much to the surprise of Verona.

“So...what's happening?” She asked.

“Change it back to the liquid just for a moment.”

She did so, almost immediately being struck by another droplet. This one fell to the ground as well.

“It felt like it was ripped away, like I never had control of it in the first place.”

Anton rubbed his chin, motioning for Verona to move as well.

“I think that when the water mixes with the blood, technically it's no longer just the blood that you have taken. Maybe. Seems a little odd though, but with practice, you may be able to rip the blood back out of the water.”

Verona nodded in understanding. Judging her expression, she had it mostly figured out but just wanted confirmation.

“For now, keep an eye out for water or just keep it in the crystal form when there's water.”

“Makes sense,” Verona said offhandedly. “Except-”

“You've seemingly lost that tremendous level of strength?”

Verona seemed quite dejected about that one.

“I think that, whatever god or deity has taken favour with you, was granting you that strength. Like a trial. That's why you always seemed to be in a trance when you fought. And now you have the power, it's gone.”

“That's...okay. I guess. I'll just have to be careful when I fight.” She looked at her arms and the rest of her body. “I'll have to start strengthening my body.”

She glanced up and down his body. “You need to as well.”

“Hmm?”

“I told you that I would help you, even if that only means getting you stronger. If you want to wield a knife or sword properly you're going to need to be stronger.”

Verona flexed her arms and lifted the spear.

“Both of us.”

There was almost a melancholic tone to her voice. She took a deep breath and relaxed. The glow receded and her body returned to normal.

The main plaza was quickly becoming deserted of villagers as the rain started to increase. Those few that were still outside were sending increasingly worried looks towards the storm as they went about their business.

Bertram and Sybil stood outside the Main Hall, underneath the overhanging roof. Anton and Verona jogged to them as the rain continued to increase.

Just as they made it underneath to cover, Jeff came around the corner leading several dozens armed villagers, training them despite the rain. He seemed to have recovered quite well.

When he saw Anton he waved, though continued his jog. The other villagers seemed to lack his enthusiasm.

“I'm so glad to see him better,” Bertram said, looking quite happy.

“He was fine” Anton replied. A lightning bolt landing close to the village distracted his thoughts. “How bad is this going to get?”

Sybil coughed to get their attention. “Shouldn't be too bad. Quite a lot of rain though. Hope the water doesn't get in.”

It was a possibility. When Anton had been up there it was only straw and it had not rained here before, so he had no idea if even his room would leak.

The rain started to pour down, so hard that it began to obscure the other side of the plaza.

Jeff, still visible through the rain, shook his hands, the other villagers stopping their jogging and running away towards their houses. He laughed as he made it underneath cover, hugging his father and mother.

“Hey, Mum and Dad. Thought we could squeeze a training session before the rain...but it looks like it came a little quicker than I thought.”

“It's fine dear,” Sybil said, patting her son on the back.

“Do we still have people on the wall, even in this?” Anton asked.

Jeff turned to him. “Yeah, we got some Thumper and leather hides that will keep the water off. They're quite old though.”

Bertram looked at Anton as well. “Everyone that knew how to do that sort of stuff is dead, so...”

“As long as they're not getting drenched out there.”

Jeff looked out into the rain.

“I'm sure they're fine. The Yellow Goblins took note of the storm and fled back to the mountain. We've still got some eyes on them just in case.”

He glanced down at Verona, his head stopping when he saw the dull blood tattoos on her neck.

“What happened to you?” He asked, peering at the tattoos. “Did a thumper have a go at your neck?”

He sounded more concerned as he looked at Verona's arms, who still had her sleeves rolled up.

“Oh...um?” Verona stammered out, looking towards Anton for guidance.

“It's an interesting story.” Anton pitching in. “Basically, I think she's a mage, of sorts.”

Jeff did not look convinced, nor reassured by what he said.

“We're still experimenting. But, she seems to be able to manipulate blood under certain circumstances.”

The three looked quite shocked at Verona, who returned as warm a smile as she could. Anton could see that she seemed very proud about it.

“That explains the stories then,” Jeff said, Anton raising an eyebrow.

“Some of the villagers are quite scared of her after watching her rip someone's arm off.”

Sybil started to give Anton death glares. She had told him to look after her.

“Then make that person's body explode in blood crystals then shred their head into the ground.”

Verona tried and failed to whistle innocently. Sybil looked like she was about to strangle Anton.

“I...really wasn't in control of myself. I've gotten better already though, thanks to Anton.”

She flared the tattoos to a bright but steady glow. The three looked quite shocked, especially as they watched Verona's eyes go red.

“Did you do this?” Sybil asked Anton, quite angrily.

“No, No I don't think so.”

Verona took this as an instruction, breathing deep as the glow faded.

“I believe that she's got it under control.”

They all relaxed, Verona looking quite happy that they were not thinking of her as some sort of threat.

Nobody said anything as the rain continued to pour down. It sounded quite different from the tile or tin roofs that he was used to, but it was still a relaxing sound.

That reminds me, with Verona not being able to use liquid blood in the rain, how do I fare?

“Um, you all might want to stand back a bit. I need to try out my own magic in this rain.”

Everyone, except Verona, took several large steps back.

He formed a small fireball and pushed it into the now torrential rain. The ball sizzled, with large bursts of smoke erupting where the rain hit it. The impacts reverberated through his mana connection. In order to keep it going, he had to continue to feed it mana, just as it was being ripped away.

“So, it's still just fire that I made. It can still be put out with water.”

He let the fireball continue to get smaller and smaller, eventually fizzling out. The disappearance of the fireball, without him controlling it, felt incredibly weird.

He summoned a small lightning bomb and pushed it out into the rain. This did not have too much of an effect. The mana required was perhaps a little more and it started to behave a little erratically but nothing too dramatic.

Finally he stopped, the others looking expectantly at him.

“Turns out that my magic is not separate from the laws of the world.”

“That's...good to know,”Jeff said.

“Anyway,” Bertram continued, “With this rain, we won't be having dinner.”

Verona let out an audible sigh.

“But we still have some here inside, just in case.”

“Yes!” Verona cried.

“I need to get back home, someone’s waiting for me,” Jeff said as he ran out into the rain, waving good-bye, which his parents returned.

Anton opened the door and waited for them to enter. “Well, what have we got on the menu today?”

Chapter 015.5 - Vol 1

Chapter 15.5:

Dull light pierced Verona's eyes. Ever since she was little she always woke up at the slightest amount of sunlight, and today was no exception.

Despite 'waking', it still took her some time to become fully alert. As she was sleeping on her left side, she twisted her head and looked to her right out the window, the soft fur covers brushing lightly and tickling the skin on her.

Through the wooden slats of the window, she could see that it was still raining outside.

Oh, right. I had lots of food, felt really tired, and then went to bed. Guess that storm still has not gone then.

Usually, the rain and lightning would make her panic and her heart to pound in her chest. It was different today. Something was warm underneath her neck and along her back. She turned back and saw Anton lying next to her, his right arm underneath her and gently resting against her back. His left was resting along her waist and ended just below her shoulders.

“Why?” Verona managed to squeak out, as she reached and tried to grab his arm.

Anton murmured something as she tired to move. His eyes were still closed and his mouth was slightly agape. He was still asleep.

“Oh.” Verona mumbled to herself. “I guess this is my doing then.”

Sometime during the night, when she was only half awake, she had moved across the bed to somewhere where it was warm. She knew that this was probably Anton but, at the time, she did not care. This was not the first night that she had ended curled up in his arms.

She could not feel his skin through the night-gown that she wore, but the warmth still felt nice, though a little strange for her heart. Even with covers, she could see that Anton was not wearing a shirt. She moved her feet and touched his pants, confirming that he was not completely naked.

Her heart started to race. Usually when she woke up she would move away as silently and quickly as she could, to calm her body down. Today felt different.

She looked at his sleeping face and found that he looked quite vulnerable. It brought back memories of Anton being stabbed by Cara, the anger and emptiness she felt at the time coming back.

That time had changed quite a lot of what she had thought of him.

She brought up a hand and stroked his lightly bearded face. The warmth traveled through her hand and through to her chest, quickly spreading throughout her body. A smile came to her face.

“You know...” Verona barely whispered, hoping to not wake Anton. She could have remained silent, but it felt like it had to be said aloud.

“When you first came here, as I saw you using that lightning as the goblins attacked,...I thought you were a god. That's why I followed you. After a while, I realized you were anything but.”

She chuckled, retracting her hand as she thought he would wake. A few moments passed of silence continued as he continued to sleep.

“When you were stabbed, and I saw the blood, I knew that you were not. Then there are your...other issues.”

Vivid memories of Anton kicking a dying woman in the head resurfaced. It happened whenever she let her mind wander too much when she thought of him. Instead of revulsion, she felt concern and worry, though on reflection she may not have showed it properly at the time.

“Every night, you twist and turn while trying to say something. And there's that mark on your back...”

She sighed again, bringing both hands to hold his face.

“You know, you make me worry so much.”

Anton, still not waking, murmured something and pulled her closer to him. She yelped in surprise as her face was brought within an inch of his. Her hands were now resting on his bare chest, his warm breath on her face.

She felt her eyes widen and body stiffen in shock, trying her best to remain as quiet as she could. The warmth from his body quickly started to flow through to her. Slow and rhythmic beats from his heart resounded through her arms and to her head.

The knowledge that she was this close to him, in a bed they both shared, caused Verona's face to quickly redden.

Anton's mouth twitched, bringing her attention to his lips. The same ones that she had kissed deeply while at the lake. That was definitely a spur of the moment thing, with a voice in the back of her head telling her that she would enjoy it. She did not deny that it felt truly amazing. Some of the things she had done had not felt like she was entirely under control, though it never seemed to be something that she would hate.

Sam's words the other day, about her and Anton and what it looked like to everyone else, began to swirl through her head and pushed out all other thoughts. The sort of things she said, about being with another person and what that meant doing, sent her mind into a wild and uncontrollable spin.

Anton's continuing embrace only made her feel hotter, both from within and that which flowed from his body. It continued to grow in her body, gathering on her face and nether regions. There was an itch starting to grow within her, one that she wanted to be scratched no matter what. As she could not move her hands, she rubbed her thighs. It did not help.

Sam mentioned something about that feeling, though Verona had started to get so embarrassed by that time that most of what she had said was a blur. She was so glad that she had calmed down before Anton saw her again.

Verona rubbed her head hard into the pillow.

Okay, time to get out of bed....I don't understand much of this. I can't be the only one that has ever had these feelings...Sybil and Sam should know. I hope that these are normal.

She tried breathing slowly and deeply. Her body starting to feel a little more normal. As she slowly pushed away, trying her best not to wake Anton, she managed to make some distance between them.

Though her heart and body were no longer burning, she did feel a little saddened. Curled up in his arms did give her a feeling of safety.

The fact that she could feel any of these feelings was still a constant shock to Verona. Her life, until incredibly recently, was just a constant struggle to scrounge enough to survive each day. Every day it became a little harder as there was less food to steal and, by judging how Anton had healed her after her first fight, she was becoming increasingly sick.

She took another deep breath and brought both of her hands into her chest.

Images of the life she had before slowly went through her mind; she and her parents working hard in the field, playing with the other children of the village, and sitting at a table with them sharing a simple meal. Until a few days ago, thinking of such good times was something that she could not afford.

“I still think this is a dream,” Verona started whispering again, “Any moment, Everything's going to stop and I'll wake up underneath the table in my old house. Before this, I was beginning to wonder how it was all going to end. Whether it was going to be starving, the goblins...or by my own hand.”

“You shouldn't ever think like that.” Anton mumbled. His eyes were closed and his speech was slurred, he had only just started to wake up.

Verona lifted herself up off his arm and shuffled further away, far enough that his hands were no longer touching her.

“Good- Good morning Anton.” Verona blurted out. She had not been this nervous is years, hoping that he would not realize where she had slept.

“What were you talking about?” he asked groggily.

She was about to answer when something Sam had said resurfaced.

“Men can be simple creatures at times. If you tell them 'everything's fine', they'll believe that. So don't, take it from me, and just say what's wrong.”

“Um...” Verona mumbled, deciding that she should just tell the truth, “I was having a bad dream.”

“Not that one where everything's on fire again?” he asked, raising both arms into the air and stretching them.

“No, thankfully. I was just remembering how things were before...everything went bad. My parents...”

She felt a tear well up in her eye. Anton lowered his hands and rested them on the covers.

“You okay?” Anton asked, staring straight into her eyes.

“I'll be okay.”

He did not answer but placed his hand on her head. It tickled as he rubbed her head. She wiped away the tears and she buried her head into the pillow.

“It's still raining.” Anton kept his hand on her head and looked out the window.

“Yeah.” Verona replied, subconsciously moving his hand so it continued to pat her head.

“I take it that nobody's tried to get us?”

She shook her head. There had not been any noise, apart from the sound of rain. If the Yellow Goblins had attacked, others would have surely have got them.

“Nobody.” Verona replied.

Anton brought his hand back and rubbed his eyes.

“Well, come on. We better get dressed. I've got no idea what time it is thanks to this rain.”

He threw off the covers and got out of bed. She found herself looking at his body for longer than she expected, looking away as he turned towards her.

“Since we can't do all that much,” he reached down and grabbed his spare shirt. “I thought that it would be a good time to continue with your training.”

“Yeah...could you turn around just for a moment?”

Anton nodded and turned around. Verona threw the covers off and got out of bed. She knew that Anton would not look, giving her some measure of privacy.

The night-gown, that Sybil gave her, felt extremely good against her skin. She would have liked to wear it all the time. However, it was only one of the three sets of clothes that she owned.

She took it off, folded it neatly and placed it beside her bead. It left her two choices to wear; one was normal while the other was soaked in blood.

I guess that I'll use the clean one. The bloody clothes might mess up the tests that Anton wants to do.

She picked up the clean one and brought it up to her face, took a small sniff.

Oh, that stinks.

She took a sniff at the rest of her body.

I never really noticed it, until after swimming in the lake, but I really stink of sweat. I wonder if Anton would allow us to build some sort of bath, like we used to have.

The usual clothes that she wore, several years old with repair patches, felt quite rough and scratched and itched at her skin. It was quite a refreshing feeling, telling her that the day was truly about to begin.

“Can you help me with the armor? I've finished changing by the way.”

“Right.” Anton said as he turned around and walked towards her. “I don't think this will be necessary to perform the tests that I want.”

Verona shrugged dismissively. “Maybe, but I feel a lot safer with these things on.”

The arm and leg pieces of armor were quickly assembled. She could do those by herself, but it was quicker to get some help.

That left the chest armor piece. This one needed help to get on properly.

Thankfully, she did not have to say anything. As she turned around, she held the armor on her front while Anton did the clasps to hold it tight.

“That tight enough?” Anton asked.

She stretched and turned, the armor was still quite loose.

“A bit tighter please. It helps me move around easier, without it moving about.”

Anton continued to pull tighter until Verona nodded, letting him know it was tight enough.

“When you say easier...?”

“I mean that, as I swing my spear,” Verona mimicked the swinging action, “My breasts move about as well.”

Anton's eyes widened in surprise. Verona felt even more surprised that she said it out aloud.

She guessed that he understood what she meant, before she had answered.

He had seen them before. Sam seemed quite surprised and excited when she told her that, though Verona did not mention that it was when she got her mark. Under the blinding and burning pain ripping through her body at the time, it was hardly a priority.

“They hurt when I run...And...they make...it difficult...to...fight...properly...” Verona felt her face turn scarlet as she started to stammer and quieten near the end. She had no idea why she was saying those things. By the time she regained her composure, she realized she was holding the Armour where her breasts were being held underneath.

She had often wondered to herself why they were so large. She knew that they were to nurse babies, but no one in the village had them of a similar size, except her mother. They had developed quite early in her life and seemingly had not stopped growing.

They were a distraction for her at times. When she tried fought the first time, at the quarry, they had been a liability. As she ran they hurt, and they had nearly thrown her off balance when she attacked the Rock-Rat that was about to kill him.

After that battle, and every time she had to have some physical exertion, she would have to massage the ache away, especially on her shoulders. Even with the armor it was still there, though considerably less.

Sam had tried to ask about them, but Anton and Jeff had reappeared just before she could get a proper answer.

A cough brought Verona back to reality. As she looked up to Anton, she saw that he too looked red, bringing her a tiny bit of relief.

“I guess they don't have sport's bras here.” Anton said as he turned to remake the bed.

“What's that?” she asked.

“Oh,” Anton stood up after fixing her side of the bed. “It's...”

This isn't the first time you've said something odd.

He turned and looked at her face, though Verona did not miss the glance at her chest.

“Something that may help you.”

She knew that he was talking about her breasts, but that was not the most important thing to her.

“More memories?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Anton turned back around and looked her in the eye.

“Maybe.” He turned back, finishing making Verona's side before moving around to make his own.

I saw that. That look on your face.

There was something she thought she could see in his face when he talked about those strange things and ideas. Almost like he could remember everything that he said he could not. That he was lying.

It did worry her that he kept secrets about something so important, where he came from.

Are there people waiting for you? People that love you? Hate you? You have said virtually nothing about yourself. And even me, who's a bit slower than the rest, has figured out that you know more than you say. What do the rest think of this?

Verona said nothing, trying to keep as straight a face as she could, as she fixed her side. Anton quickly finished his side, turning his attention to the table.

Around the base of the table lay the broken dinner plate and the dried and damaged remains of the purple flesh. The same flesh that Anton had painstakingly removed, and Verona inadvertently had broken when she had acquired her own magic. There had been little time for Verona to clean it up since then.

Without saying anything, she started to pick the pieces up. Anton moved and helped her pick up the pieces. Before, she only had a glancing look at the flesh that he had collected. Now she could see that a lot of work had gone into this, and she had destroyed it. A part of her felt she should apologize.

“Sorry about this, by the way. I know I really wasn't myself, but I still feel I should still say something.”

“It's fine.” Anton said, as he collected the pieces from Verona. “That was an 'interesting' night for all of us. “

“Besides,” Anton continued as he made his way to the window and tossed the pieces outside into the rain, “I found something more interesting.”

She did not know if she could take it as a compliment, but there was no malice behind his words.

“That's...anyway. Can we start the training here?” she asked.

The room was quite large by her standards. However, judging by how much space Anton wanted the other day, it probably would not be big enough.

“I don't think so.” Anton replied, seemingly agreeing with her suspicions. “I really don't want this place damaged if something goes wrong. Besides, we haven't had anything to eat yet.”

Verona became acutely aware of how hungry she was.

“By the way,” Anton asked, “What did you do for food before?”

“Um...” Verona did not really want to answer. Admitting that she stole and scavenged whatever she could from her neighbors probably would not impress him. Although, Sam's words came back again.

“I had to steal most of it. It wasn't that much.” She waved her hands as Anton raised a questioning eyebrow. “Just enough so that I wouldn't be hungry.”

Anton smirked and nodded. “I guess this all feels pretty different to you.”

Yes. Yes it does.

---[]---

Anton led them to the Council room. There was no-one outside and, when Anton opened the door, there was only Bertram and Sybil. She had hoped that Jonathan and his children were there, she liked to talk with them. Zac seemed a bit distant to her. Jeff not so much, and Sam was difficult for other reasons.

Nevertheless, she followed him in. Anton waved to Bertram, which he returned.

“Did we oversleep, or has it been called off today?” Anton asked, taking a seat and pulling one out for Verona. She readily took her seat next to him.

Usually she felt more comfortable standing just behind him, mimicking what Avery did to Jeff. She just naturally took that as her position. From there she could look at the others to try and figure out how they thought about Anton's words, not that she felt that she had much success so far.

Sitting next to him felt so much more pleasant.

“Sort of,” Bertram replied, looking up from a small stack of papers, “They've already been. With the rain there hasn't been any movement to the north. It's also given everyone time to do some indoor jobs, so they went back to work.”

Anton leant back into his chair. “I need to wake up earlier. Anyway, where do you guys keep the food? We're starving.”

Bertram slowly rose out of his chair and guided Anton out of the room. This left Verona alone with Sybil. She had nothing against her, it just felt a bit strange to talk to her. Getting the clothes had been rather quick and curt, and even then Bertram had been there, so they were not alone.

Sybil had know her mother quite well, often she would see the two of them talking merrily together. Seeing her know just made Verona fell her loss so much more.

“So, Verona...how are you doing?” she could hear the awkwardness in Sybil's voice.

“I'm doing good. Um, sleeping better for one. And I'm no longer coughing up blood every day. So everything's going much better.” Verona replied.

Sybil sighed loudly, the wrinkles on her face becoming more evident.

“We should have taken you in as soon as we could have, instead of waiting.”

Verona did not retort. She, and many others, were left to fend for themselves. That had left a mark on her mind. Several thousand people had already died, people Verona knew quite well, before Anton arrived and gave them some respite so things started to get better.

“Anyway,” Sybil continued, “I wanted to ask because of the other night. When you were...changing...”

“Oh, we're going to be doing some more tests latter. I'm actually looking forward to it.”

Sybil gave her a questioning look. While she did not know the exact details of what Verona's new powers required, she probably had a rough idea from what Anton had told her.

“And, you're comfortable with this?”

Verona did not know exactly how to answer that.

“When my marks came in, I was scared. Very scared. But now it feels like I can stand beside him, and not just something in the way, but as an equal.”

Sybil said nothing, but smiled warmly.

“I remember something like that. A long time ago, though.”

Verona was about to question what she had said when the door opened. Anton and Bertram entered the room, Anton carrying two large plates brimming with food. She felt her question leave her mind, now consumed by a ravenous desire to eat.

“What have you got?” she asked, brimming with excitement.

“Ah, let's see. Some meat, looks like dried Razor Pig, some cheeses, bread, something that looks like carrots and potatoes. It all looks very good and healthy.”

Anton laid a plate infront of her, bristling with food. She barely waited for hers to be placed on the table before she started to eat. Her mother had always said she ate messily and today was no exception.
She ate with a ferocious hunger, every bite filled her mouth with flavor. Even though it was the same as what she ate with her family, it tasted so much better than when she stole it.

Everything around her became of secondary importance. Anton was talking to Bertram and Sybil, though she could not hear them.

After she was finished, and feeling very satisfied, she lent back in her chair. She had no idea how much time had passed, but guessed it was a bit. The others were continuing to talk.

Damn, I should have been paying attention.

Anton was the first to speak.

“So how much are we talking in total, hidden in the capital, do you think?”

Bertram looked rather happy, jostling about in his seat.

“Several thousand Gold, just in coins. That's not taking into account the gems, paintings, which are probably all gone, metal reserves and of course the amount of granite used to build it. If we ever get it back and find someone to trade it all with, we'll have more than enough to get just about anything done. They were hidden in an Adamantian vault, so nothing short of a thousand mages working together could break something so thick.”

His expression changed to a quizzical one.

“You still haven't told us what you would want to do with such riches, not that we could get them yet.”

Anton nodded in agreement.

“I'm just thinking about the future of this place. If the other kingdoms are still functioning, we may be able to buy quite a lot of materials and equipment. Money is of no use unless it can be spent.”

“So you're not thinking of leaving once the situation has been...resolved?” Sybil asked tentatively.

When did this happen? Are you going to leave?

Verona looked at Anton, her face and heart was filled with worry.

“In a sense, maybe. But I see this as the beginning of something much larger. Maybe even a start to rebuild the Kingdom...of a sort.”

Bertram raised a brow.

“I really don't think it should be like it was.” Anton continued. “Though I am intrigued by your stories of the capital. It sounds like an interesting place to have lived.”

“They're just stories now.” Bertram had a distant look in his eyes.

“Aren't you boys getting a little ahead of yourselves?” Sybil asked, looking a little concerned as her attention darted between the two. “We still don't know if we will survive the Yellow Goblins and you're talking about expanding the city already.”

Anton and Bertram looked blankly at Sybil, who sighed loudly and stared at the ceiling.

“Why did you even bring this up Anton? You've made him all giddy.”

Anton leant back and scratched his head.

“I remembered something, when I saw Verona's marks. It's starting to become more clear the harder I look for it.”

That was...sort of a lie.

“There is something dangerous, coming to kill us all-”

“The Yellow Goblins?” Sybil chipped in.

“Hah, something far more dangerous. I see it every night. I can't seem to see it properly yet, but I know that what you've faced, what this dead kingdom has faced, will be nothing compared to what is coming. That is why I ask about the potential treasures hidden in the capital, we'll need them to build our strength.”

You lied when you said you see it every night, but the rest seems true. What is coming for us?

Bertram and Sybil remained silent, Verona simply regretted not paying more attention.

“Do you think the Yellow Goblins could have some treasures hidden in the mountain?” Anton asked.

“Could be.” Bertram replied. They all seemed to be relieved to be talking on a different subject. “They took those gems as trophies, and there were lots of people fleeing the capital with all their valuables. It's more than possible they could have kept it in the mountain as a trophy.”

“Then that sorts that out as well.”

“Sorts what out?” Verona asked, feeling increasingly lost.

“When the rain stops, we'll be going on a raid. Right into the mountain and at the heart of the Yellow Goblins. With my and your magic, and a little luck, we should be able to deal them a serious blow. One they won't recover from when we go for the final battle.”

The blood started to pump furiously in Verona's head. The very mention of those disgusting yellow dwarf and mutilated humanoids was enough to make everything go red with anger. Knowing that the creatures, that took her family and friends away, were still alive was utterly infuriating. Her fingers crunched against the wooden table, not going unnoticed by Anton.

“To that end,” Anton coughing to regain Verona's attention, “We'll start your training now. They'll regret ever trying to take these lands.”

“Ah, okay!” Verona replied.

Finally, I can get better with this blood power, and get back at those fuckers for what they did.

She did not notice the vicious smile she wore on her face, the others did.

---[]---

The council chambers was cleared of the all the furniture, except for two chairs placed near the door, creating quite a large open area. It was larger than their current bedroom, and far larger than her old one.

Bertram and Sybil had left, both saying that they needed to catch up on some much needed sleep. She was not sure if that was actually true, but it would give them some more room and privacy. The way her magic seemed to work would definitely seem odd and disturbing to others, considering how the others had reacted when Anton had explained it.

Anton had returned to their room and retrieved her spear and knife. The small shock ran through her back when she grabbed the knife first, and then again when she grabbed her spear.

That aspect of her magic seemed simple enough, Anton had hinted before that today would be about control and testing her limits.

“Today, we'll continue where we left off. Are you ready to start?” Anton asked, starting to roll up one of his sleeves.

“Um...yes.” Verona replied, her hesitation clear in her voice.

“Something wrong?”

“Well...” Verona looked down and began to fidget uncomfortably, “I'm going to need blood, quite a bit of it, if you want me to find my limits. And...I don't know how much I can take before there's a problem.”

Anton nodded in agreement.

“I'm pretty sure that the body can loose a little blood and still be fine. Besides, I'll tell you if I'm starting to feel it.”

“Okay. I'll try my best.”

The thought of having to cut Anton to find out her power made her feel a little sick inside. However, she knew that he would not let it go, and that he had healing magic for the wounds.

She held the spear with both hands, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Time to start the 'fire'.

Searching inward, with her mind, she found something small. She could only describe it as a small fragment of her soul that felt like it did not belong. After pouring, what she felt she could only describe as mana, into the fragment her whole body began to heat up. It was like a fire raging within ever inch of her body. Different to the one she felt this morning, but nonetheless, immensely pleasurable.

As she opened her eyes, she saw and felt the marks begin to glow. Her ears started to sound like they were filling with water, rushing louder and louder until they popped. Everything began to seem so much more clear to hear, both what she saw and heard.

“You look ready Ver.”

Anton held out his hand, ready for Verona to collect the blood.

With some trepidation, she used the edge of the spear to make a small cut on his hand. The moment the blood started to flow her heart began to race, different to when she kissed him but no less intense.

She held out her hand above the blood, drawing it up. It felt like it was just another part of her as it started to swirl into a growing ball. She could feel the blood flowing around the wound, though she could not control it. Once it left his body, it felt like it completely changed and was now hers to control.

As the blood moved into her palm she watched Anton with trepidation, watching for a sign for her to stop. Instead, he watched with fascination as the ball grew to the size of an egg.

“Is, this enough?” she asked, stopping the flow of blood from Anton as a cap of liquid blood, keeping the wound from continuing to leak blood.

“Oh, that's a handy trick.” Anton commenting on her new-found ability to stem the flow of his blood.. “But, no. I don't think so. I don't feel anything bad yet. I'll let you know when it's about enough.”

She restarted the drawing up of blood, keeping an eye on Anton's expression, wondering when he would tell her to stop.

The ball continued to grow larger and larger.

“I think that'll do.” he said.

Verona stopped drawing up the blood as Anton moved his hand over and healed himself. They both looked at the ball of swirling blood, now about half the size of her closed fist.

“So, what's the plan for today?” she asked.

Anton looked at the blood for a moment before speaking.

“Basically, exploring what you can do. For starters, can you make the blood solid and as sharp as you can?”

She nodded, focusing her attention on the blood. With the tiniest amount of mana used, the blood quivered, Verona feeling that through her connection, and turned into a long and sharp crystal. She started to move it between her hands as she started to get a feel for it.

The other day she had not had to control something this size. She had told Anton that it felt incredibly easy to control the crystals, but those crystals were incredibly small. This one took some noticeable effort.

“Great.” Anton said.

He held his hand up to the crystal and flicked it with the back of his finger. A high pitched clink resounded every time he flicked it.

“Verona, where's your knife?”

“I got it here-”

“You don't need to grab it.” he lightly touched her hand as she moved for the knife, “Don't want to interfere with this.”

“With what?” she asked as Anton grabbed and admired the blade.

“Something interesting hopefully. Just be ready.”

With a wave of his hand, he told her to move the crystal towards him slightly.

Why?-

Before she could say anything, he gripped the knife to attack and, with all his strength,brought it down onto the crystal.

Verona was stunned. The knife shattered the surface of the crystal, sending fragments into the air.

Anton withdrew the blade, with a satisfied look on his face.

“I take it there was a point to that?! Other than scaring the shit out of me?” Verona said, her displeasure evident in her voice.

“I wanted to see how strong the crystal was, and,” Anton used his free hand to touch some of the blood fragments, “And whether or not you can control it after it has been damaged.”

Verona did not even realize that the fragments were still under her control and slowly reforming without her trying. As they fell back into place there was a strange tearing and squelching sound until it had completely reformed, like it had never been broken.

“You could have just asked, you know?”

“I could, but wanted to see what happens when it's done without warning.”

She puffed her cheeks out, something she did whenever she was annoyed. Not angry, but annoyed. Anton seemed to pick up on this and softened his expression.

“I'm sorry. I should have told you.”

Verona felt her annoyance leave and focused her attention back on the crystal.

“Fine. I'm doing my own tests now,” she glanced up at Anton then back down to the crystal, “That did give me a thought.”

Since the crystals can reform, maybe I can break it into smaller ones and control those. Time to give it a shot.

She focused all her mental strength onto the crystal, remembering what Anton had said about using his imagination to form his magic, and did the same. As she formed the mental image, the blood crystal began to break apart. It formed several dozen smaller fragments, each of the same shape as the larger one. They slowly started to expand, and with a little mental effort, they fanned out and began to slowly circle her body.

Her memories were a little foggy relating to the time she first used her magic, but she remembered something like this. Anton looked quite impressed. The amount of effort to control this many was considerably more than the single large crystal. There must be some relation between the difficulty and the size and number, but right now she had no idea.

Without waiting for Anton, she started to move them around, faster and faster before bringing them back infront of her in a loose clump. With another mental push, the crystals closed together. The tearing and squelching sound reverberated through the air and her connection as they reformed into one large crystal again.

“Impressive.” Anton said, bending over so his eyes were at her level. His eyes darted between her own. “Are you feeling tired yet?”

“Not really. It hasn't taken that much effort to do that. Is that normal?”

Anton shrugged.

“Unfortunately, I don't really know.”

Several lightning balls formed infront of him.

“See, this doesn't require that much effort. But I have no idea how that compares to other people. I think you may just have lots of mana.”

Hearing that, Verona felt a jolt of happiness. Anton's magic disappeared, but he began to frown.

“What's wrong?”

“Just an issue I've thought of. For now, can you form a more complicated shape? Like your spear.”

Verona nodded. She looked at the solid crystal, realizing quickly that there would not be enough blood to form a spear as large as her own. Regardless, she formed the image in her mind.

The blood crystal shattered into thousands of tiny fragments. The fragments formed a vague spear and solidified, about half the length of her current one. There was a noticeable amount of her mana was used when it reformed.

She could not tell if it was when the crystal reformed, as there was no noticeable change after Anton had tried to break the crystal and it reformed.

She tried again, this time reforming it into a liquid. Doing that used virtually none of her mana. Anton raised an eyebrow but did not object. From the liquid, she made the same spear as before. This time, it used virtually no mana.

So when I make it from the crystals, it uses a lot more mana than if it's still a liquid. Guess Anton was right, it would be too easy otherwise. I wonder what would happen if some dirt was thrown into the blood when I'm changing it. Just another thing I'll have to worry about.

Despite the numerous thoughts floating around her head, she pulled the spear so it floated vertically infront of her.

“How hard is that to move about?”

She pushed in up and down, left and right. After that she began to twirl it around her body at great speed before stopping it infront of her.

“About the same as the big crystal.”

Anton flicked the spear, giving off the same sound as before.

“I can tell you that these are very strong.” Anton said, straightening back up. “Not so much as steel, but very strong considering what it's made from.”

“Well,” Verona began, “I can change and move it simply enough, though I can't tell in here how far I can move it before I loose control like I did with the water mixing with the blood. There's some other things, like it's uses much less mana when it's a liquid. Anyway, before you said there was a problem?”

“Hmm...oh yes. Just wait there for a moment. I want to get something. In the mean-time, keep practicing with moving and controlling it.”

He scuttled out of the room, leaving Verona alone and a little bewildered.

Ah, okay then.

Her attention turned back to the blood spear. She spent some time learning how to control it, making it fly around the room then stop. It took her virtually no time to gain an increased understanding of how it worked.

The door opened, Anton came through holding something small in his hand.

“Is that...a pot?” she asked, wondering what purpose it could possibly serve.

“Yes.” Anton replied, walking up to her, “Carrying the blood around with you all the time would be draining on you, and it'll look quite scary to anyone that sees that.”

Anton pointed to the blood spear.

It doesn't look that scary to me though. More like it's the way it's always been. I wonder if that's a part of the magic.

“Does yours make you feel uncomfortable?” she asked.

Anton cocked his head quizzically.

“I mean, when you use fire or the lightning, you don't find it...unsettling? Strange?” Verona tried to clarify what she had said.

“Oh, absolutely. But, after a while it just feels very natural. You have that feeling?”

“Yeah, just then.” She felt a little relieved.

Her attention was brought back to the small pot that Anton held. It was not very wide but it was quite long, sticking out either side of his hand.

“So, what's with that?”

“I want you to try to store the blood in this, so you can carry it with you. Should keep the water and dirt out of it, and it'll surprise anyone who doesn't expect it.”

“Ah, gotch' ya'.”

She hated when she let out her little tick. Anton seemed to like it, judging by his little smirk.

The blood spear returned to its liquid form, Verona slowly and carefully put the blood into the container.

Anton handed her a small lid that fit snugly onto the top. She could not help but notice that there was a small chip on the side of the lid, allowing her to just see the blood beneath.

So, I should be able to draw it out, without having to take the lid off. I see where this is going.

She held her hand over the container and drew the blood up. Much to her surprise, she still had control over it, and she could make it flow without taking the lid off the container. After dragging it all out she placed it back into the container.

Anton reached into his pocket and brought out a piece of string. He tied it around one of the clasps of her chest armor and the container.

“I like it.” she said, spinning around.

“Excellent. We can also figure out how long the blood can age before you loose control.”

“Right. Much stronger now...What's next?”

Another rumble of thunder rolled overhead, a momentary pause told them that the rain continued to fall.

“Practice on a living target will have to wait until the raid...Well, there was that other thing. About getting stronger...”

Anton walked to the door and leant outside and retrieved something. They were two small wooden sticks, about the same length in size. He chucked one to her. For Verona, it looked like a short spear, though Anton held his like a sword.

“What better way to spend today than getting some practice in.”

Anton spun the stick in his hand. He looked like he sort of knew what he was doing.

She held the stick as if she was ready to fight, Anton did the same.

“After doing this for a few hours, it shouldn't take too long to get better. Especially with my prayer magic.”

Verona nodded, adjusting her stance accordingly.

“You ready?”

She felt her body with a mixture of pride and anticipation. Anton may be powerful with his magic, but she had no idea how he would fare against her in hand to hand combat. It was exciting to find out.

“Bring it!”

They continued sparring late into the afternoon, only stopping when they could both barely move from exhaustion. Verona had won overall, though not as clearly as she had thought she would. Anton's healing ability was used nearly constantly that day.

As the light faded and the rain continued to pound down, she thought it was a strange, but one of the most enjoyable she had had in a while.

------------------

Hello gang.

This time I tried writing from a different person, trying to show a different point of view.

Apologies for the delay, I was trying to flesh out another story and playing Xcom 2.

Next chp. will be the raid on the mountain, so there'll be some fighting. Look forward to that.

So, see you next time.

Chapter 016 - Vol 1

Chapter 016:

[A few words first, there may be some blood & guts stuff that some may not like. Just a heads up]

Three days had passed, the rain only finally receding late in the night of the third day. The clouds had parted and now let in the brilliant golden glow of a new dawn.

Being coped up for three days left Anton and Verona with a considerable amount of time on their hands. They spent most of the time training, both physically and magically. Verona had increased her control over her magic to the stage where it seemed like it was a natural part of her. Some things were still a little difficult, like total range of her magic and the amount of blood she could safely control. Anton guessed that it was about twenty meters before it became difficult to control but no idea on the total amount.

Now that the rain had stopped Verona seemed to be growing increasingly aggressive, spending her time checking and re-checking her armor and her vials of blood, one on each hip.

It turned out that the blood could only be kept for a few hours at most before it started to degrade, her control becoming increasingly tenuous and vague. Now, after collecting fresh blood from Anton just after waking up, she looked ready to go on the raid.

Anton was currently on the porch of the Main Hall with Jonathan and Zac, discussing what they had managed to accomplish. Verona was pacing uncontrollably up and down the porch, the thumps of her steps making it difficult to concentrate.

Jonathan had worked up a truly titanic effort and had completely used all the coal he had to forge weapons and armor. Now everyone that was willing to fight had some sort of forged weapons, the rest having the best of what was left. Despite the rain, he had traversed the hard rain and personally delivered each piece of weapons and armor.

Zac had been practicing his woodwork and metal work, making rudimentary wooden shields. They were not sophisticated but they looked very strong. He, and the other people from the construction group, had also prepared the wooden gates for each of the four entrances. They had found a use for the Obsidian Tower stone. Instead of trying to break it into small shards, he had arranged the whole slabs in a sort of mosaic fashion on the face of the gate with extra pieces of wood around to wedge them in place. Zac had assured him that it was incredibly strong, not even his full strength had been able to damage it. They only had one gate with the Obsidian Tower stone so they decided to use it for the front gate.

Anton was about to ask if Zac had taken into account the natural flexibility of wood into consideration when designing and building the gate when Verona had interrupted again.

“So, when are we doing this?” she asked for the tenth time.

The three men sighed, though Anton did not have the heart to reprimand her. A few days ago he had told her that she was going to be a part of the raid. Jeff had already been contacted to get a few dozen of his best soldiers to go with him, and now they were currently mulling around waiting for them to return.

“Soon Ver, very soon.” Anton told her. She calmed down a little, but the frustration was clear on her face and body.

With a dismissive sigh, she brought and rested her spear in her shoulder, then rested her head on his arm. Anton wrapped his arm around her head and brought her closer as he rubbed it vigorously. A smirk grew on her face, quickly followed by Zac and Jonathan.

“Good to see you two getting closer.” Jonathan said smugly, Zac sharing the sentiment.

Anton could not exactly deny their words. Over the last three days they had bonded quite a lot, he had caught Verona stealing glances at him more often than not. He was glad to have her company.

“Thanks,” Verona replied before Anton could, “The past three days we've been working together to better understand our magic. It's been really fun actually.”

“So, your magic is controlling peoples blood?” Zac asked Verona tentatively. Both of them had only heard of what Verona could do, not actually seen it. The stories had probably been wildly exaggerated by now.

“Basically.” Verona replied. She looked to Anton as to whether she should continue. “It's rather specific as to what I can actually control. I can't just take it from just anybody...yet.”

Both stepped back reflexively.

“She can only control blood that she's cut herself.” Anton clarified, both relaxing a little, “With time and training it might change, like how I could use the flame pillars. Someday she may just be able to rip a goblin apart with just a nick, we'll just have to wait and see.”

Verona gripped his arm tightly, he swore that he could see sparkles in her eyes.

“Really?!” her voice was almost a squeak under her excitement.

“With time perhaps. For now, let's just try and get this battle over with successfully.”

Verona nodded, the excitement barely dissipated as she continued to look into his eyes. The others looked a little frightened though Anton felt it may be them putting it on.

“Speak of which, are you two ready for this?” Anton asked, bring the conversation to a more serious matter. “Even if I manage to set off a massive fire-storm in the mountain, I doubt it would kill all of them. And we don't really know how many there are inside. There could be thousands coming here, pissed off and out for blood.”

Zac and Jonathan pursed their lips and looked at each-other.

“We're ready.” Zac said, “No matter what happens. Better to get it over with then getting picked off until we're all dead.”

Jonathan nodded in agreement.

Thirty well armed villagers came into the central plaza with Jeff at the lead.

“Looks like it's about to begin. See you both when we get back.”

Zac reached out and grabbed Anton's hand in a rough and hard hand shake, Jonathan's less so.

Anton took a deep breath and stepped onto the sodden plaza ground, knowing that now there was no going back.

---[]---

Jeff looked extremely happy today, there was a definite spring to his step. Spending some 'alone time' with Sam had worked wonders with him.

“Anton, Verona. You ready to do this?” Jeff asked, running up to him while ordering the soldiers to stop.

“Yep, we're ready.” Anton replied.

He noticed the amount of weaponry and armor that Jeff currently wore.

“Do you think that you're coming with us?” He asked, Jeff throwing him an odd look. “You'll be needed here, fully alert and rested, when the Yellow Goblins counter-attack. The people here cannot take that chance.”

Jeff seemed a little despondent.

“I thought that I would get to smash some of the skulls in.”

“Oh, trust me, there'll be a lot of that later.”

“In that case,” Jeff turned to the soldiers, “Anton will be in charge of you for this raid. Listen and follow his words.”

The soldiers cheered and vaguely saluted Anton.

“We've got enough supplies for two days, though you should be back by the afternoon.” Jeff told Anton.

“Thanks, that'll be more than enough.” Anton turned to the soldiers, waving them closer.

He knelt down and, using the but of Verona's spear, drew a basic map in the dirt.

“First, we'll head to the western gate. Then we'll make towards the mountain while hugging the forest, infiltrate the mountain, get whatever we can and burn it to the ground, then leg it back here. Pretty simple plan overall.”

The villager soldiers seemed to agree.

“We'll head to the western gate first, looks like you've got a few things to do first.” A villager soldier told him while pointing behind him.

Anton stood up and turned around. Standing outside the Main Hall was Sybil and Bertram, each carrying a small bag. Anton guessed that they were for him and Verona, probably their packs of supplies.

Zac and Jonathan had already left, hopefully to keep working on building the wall and preparing the village.

“Right. I'll meet you there.”

The villagers departed, some chuckling and laughing while gesturing towards him. Verona followed Anton as he walked towards them.

“Just made you these.” Sybil said excitedly.

“We've put a few extra pots in this one for you Verona.” Bertram said as he lightly shook the bag he had.

“Thanks, Bertram.” Verona said awkwardly as she took the bag from Bertram. Over the past few days she had become less hostile to Bertram, though some still remained. The knowledge that they fought just before his death still weighed heavily on her heart.

“Here's yours Anton,” Sybil said as she hand hers over, “I've put a few of those Karak fruits in here. Hopefully that will help today.”

“Thanks Sybil.”

Sybil leant down and hugged Verona, who returned it. She turned and motioned for him to bend over. As she hugged him, she leant into his ear and whispered.

“Don't let her get hurt. It's the happiest I've seen her in years.”

“You got it.” Anton whispered back.

Sybil seemed happy, letting go and standing beside Bertram.

They gave a final wave as they both headed off to the mountain.

---[]---

The grass leaked water with every step the villagers took, the rain having waterlogged the entire landscape. Everywhere they looked there were puddles of water. Anton had no idea how the Thumpers, or any animal on the plains, survived these great water events.

They had already been walking for several hours, keeping as low as possible while giving the mountain a wide berth. Judging by how close the mountain was, it would be not much longer before they reached their stopping point.

Throughout their trip, they had seen several Razor-Pigs and other large beasts, ones the villages told them were harmless. Thankfully, there was not a Yellow Goblin in sight. If a single Yellow Goblin saw them and made it back to the mountain, they would be overwhelmed and killed. Thankfully they had not seen anything, Anton guessed that they had retreated during the days of rain and yet not returned to their positions.

The western side of the mountain was relatively close to the forest, smaller trees growing close to the foot of the mountain. A patch of forest appeared to be very close and quite dense. The mountain itself was completely barren, only grasses and large rocks along its slopes, snow capping its peak.

Anton decided they should stop at the forest patch to the west to get their bearings and rest. Anton guessed that they would arrive a little before mid-day.

Verona walked beside him with a mixture of happiness and excitement, though it slowly seemed to be infecting the others. At the beginning they walked in silence but now they were happily chatting with each-other softly.

Everybody was still keeping a lookout for Yellow Goblins lying in wait. Their was still the missing scout Dana, he was sure her name was, that was either dead or captured by the Yellow Goblins. It would be good to get some definitive answers.

Verona stopped and looked back at the village.

“Something wrong?” Anton asked.

“Nah. Just can't wait for everything to, well, go back to the way it used to be.”

Anton waited until she started walking before joining her.

“I know that's impossible, the dead can't come back, but it would be nice. My parents would be proud of what we've done.”

Anton placed his hand on her head, she brought her own and placed it on his.

“I would have loved to have met your parents.”

Verona looked at him with a hint of loneliness in her eyes.

“Me too.”

A few minutes later they arrived at the rest stop.

The villagers fanned out, preparing a basic perimeter while everyone caught their breaths. They told him that they had been told to do this action by Jeff. Anton felt relieved that Jeff had been so thorough in planning this raid out.

Anton walked to the edge of the rest area closest to the mountain, where three of the villagers were waiting and watching, two women and one man.

“You guys seen anything yet?” Anton asked.

“Something really interesting,” One of the women said as she pointed to the base of the mountain towards the south,“ There are a lot of them goblins on the southern side, mulling around and carrying buckets out of the mountain. They look like they're carrying out water.”

Anton could just make out the small movements of yellow coming out of what appeared to be entrances into the mountain. They did appear to be bringing out large buckets of water.

Perhaps some of the entrances allow water into the caves. They probably got some valuables, material or otherwise, in what they would presume to be the safest area, the lowest levels. Now they're flooded.

The man pointed towards the closest section of the mountain. “Thankfully, it looks like there's another entrance a bit further to north. Closer to us”

The man pointed to a cave several hundred meters north of where they stood. In-front there were six yellow figures. They seemed to be relaxing, none seemed to be alert and keeping an eye on their surroundings.

“That will be our entrance.” Anton said.

“How do we get to them before they can warn the others?” Verona asked, peering through the bushes at the entrance.

Anton looked at the cave entrance. Like the rest of the mountain, it only had grasses and large rocks. The grasses were rather long, easily a meter, and quite dense.

“I don't think that we could get there without alerting them,” Anton said, leaning against a tree, “And the sound from my lightning or fire magic will probably alert them.”

The others groaned in disappointment. Coming all this way, only to be told they could not advance, was grating on their minds.

“So what now?” Verona asked, turning to Anton, “You can't send us back after getting us this far.”

He could see some serious anger in her face, something that he felt she needed to let out.

“It's a pity that we don't have someone small with us, someone that could sneak up and kill them without making a sound.”

Anton smirked at Verona, the other villagers looking at her as well.

“Why are you-” Verona said before her eyes shot open, “Oh, I get it. I feel a little stupid now.”

---[]---

Verona crouched low and slinked through the long grass. She had handed over her spear to Anton and kept her knife. Despite wanting to use the spear, she knew she could still use her power along with the knife. She also knew that, while traveling, there was a chance that she may accidentally raise her spear to where it could be seen and everything would be ruined.

Anton did make a point about the color of her hair. Since she kept it short she really did not pay it much attention. She soon realized that her silvery white hair would stand out easily against the green grass.

To fix this Anton got a dark brown cloth, that Sybil had wrapped some of the Karak fruit in, and wrapped it around her head. She felt she looked a little silly, though Anton assured her that she would be a lot harder to see in the grass, something that the other villagers appeared to agree with.

Every few feet that she took through the grass, she stopped for an instant, waiting to hear the noise of an altered Yellow Goblins. They did nothing as she made it to the slope of the mountain and arrived at one of the large boulders above the entrance.

Beneath her, the six Yellow Goblins lazed about. Three of them were sleeping, while another two were talking to each-other in their strange and creepy language of chirps and grunts. The last Yellow Goblin was urinating on a rock, a few feet away from the others. Each of the goblins had weapons, but unlike Verona's steel blade, they were wooden clubs. Judging by how much the wooden sticks could hurt from the other day, she was not going to underestimate them.

She looked towards Anton and the other villagers, finding them with a little effort. Her heart was grateful that the Yellow Goblins were not paying attention.

They were a little less then two thirds her size and looked weaker. Just one of them she could take out easily, but all six at once could be tricky.

She brought out her knife and rested it and herself on the rock. There was only one chance for this to work, and she had no intention of getting herself or Anton killed. This fight would need to be planned out properly.

Okay, what would Anton do? None of them are really paying much attention to their surroundings. I should probably get rid of the ones that are alert. Those two talking and that one peeing. Then, I'll be able to take the others out before they can wake up and run away.

With a tentative plan in her mind, she lit the fire within her. The sensation quickly traveled through her body. She took a deep breath to calm herself and readied to attack.

She moved her hands over the clay pots, bringing up the blood. Compared to the first day when Anton gave her some blood there was considerably more. She felt a little bad that she had to take his blood, though he said it was fine. She really wanted a better source, or at least to not take so much.

The blood formed two separate spheres, quickly forming two solid blood spears.

I can only control the blood for about 20 meters, whatever they are, or 60 feet away from me, that's what Anton said. I can't let them get further away and run into the mountain.

She raised the spears over the rock and readied to throw them at the chatting Yellow Goblins. While keeping the blood spears hovering over the rock, she moved closer to the lone Yellow Goblin.

It had just finished urinating, pulling up the cloth that covered its crotch and started to turn to the others, turning sideways to Verona.

Fearing it would gather with the others, she hurried close enough to lunge at the Yellow Goblin. As she raised her body to attack her foot slipped, sending a few tiny pebbles rolling down the slope.

The very blood drained from her body as the goblin stopped and turned towards her.

None of you bastards are going to get out of this alive!

With a burst of mana, she threw the spears as hard as she could at the chatting goblins. As the spears flew towards them she ran at the lone goblin with he knife in her right hand.

The two goblins knew and saw nothing.

Both spears drove through and broke the skulls of the Yellow Goblins. They did not quiver or scream as their head were pierced and driven into the ground along with the spears. As the crystallized blood hit the stony ground it shattered, the fragments flew up and floated around both of the dead goblins.

Verona turned her attention to the goblin infront of her.

It glanced towards its dead friends, then back to Verona. Fear and surprised wrapped its face, probably as it had never seen magic before.

The goblin raised its small wooden club to strike her as came within a foot of the creature. It swung the club down with all its might, the fear replaced by anger.

Shifting her weight and body to her right, she palmed and pushed the club away from her. A momentary look of surprise flashed over its face as it looked down and saw the knife coming for its throat.

The blade slipped through the thin flesh on its neck and severed its veins and arteries. Blood squirted out under the released pressure, all over her arms and face. Its body twitched as she wrenched the knife from its throat.

With a tremendous thud its body landed on the ground.

Her head was pounding and her breath ragged. Only three kills and she was shaking. Not even at the quarry had she killed so brutally or so many, her mind was full of the excitement and rush from the kill. The other times that she had fought she was barely aware, even afterwards she felt nothing like this.

That was unbelievable. I wonder what Anton would say after seeing this. Would he think that I'm-Shit!

Still caught up with the rush, she had forgotten about the sleeping goblins. A lot of noise had been made in the short time it took to kill those three.

She turned to the three sleeping goblins. They were no longer asleep, they had been awoken by the commotion and were grasping for their weapons, and getting ready to attack.

I could fight them with my knife, but one might try to run away. But, I can use my powers to stop them.

As she started to move the blood back to her body, something Anton had said to her came back to her.

He had wanted to know if the blood she released, through wounds and cuts caused the blood she manipulated, could be controlled.

No time to waste.

The blood spears still impaled the goblins as they slowly started to reform by themselves. She poured her mana into the spear and searched for any extra blood. Both of their bodies worth of blood felt like it was hers.

She thrust her left hand towards the bodies, clenched her fist and brought it into her body. Anton had told her that the action was not needed, but helped with mentally controlling the magic.

The blood erupted from their body, a stream of tiny droplets poured out of the wounds from their heads. A moment later their bodies were husks, their yellow skin now hanging loose over their flesh.

The blood formed a large ball infront on her. With another burst of mana the blood separated into three swirling balls of blood, quickly forming into large crystallized spears. Each was longer than she was tall and as thick as her arm.

Controlling this amount of blood was a serious drain, she would not be able to control it properly for much longer.

She turned to the remaining goblins. They were in a state of paralyzing fear, no one was willing to take the first move.

“It's not fun when you're getting attack in your home, is it?” Verona hissed it at the goblins.

Her rage, pouring out of her heart and into her face, terrified the goblins. With their weapons raised, though shaking, they started to back towards the entrance.

With a burst of mana she threw the blood spears. They flew a little slower than the smaller spears, but more than quick enough to strike them.

Each of the spears found their target, piercing their chests and impaling them into the stone. The tips of the spears shattered once again, crystal fragments floated around their backs.

That could have been bad...one's still moving.

The goblin in the middle clawed at the spear, trying desperately to free itself. As it struggled its screams became louder and louder. If there were any goblins nearby they would hear it soon.

“Shatter the blood”

The voice, the one she heard the first time she started using her powers, resounded within her head. It was a woman’s voice, though it sounded raspy and sickening. She did not trust it completely, but it had worked out so far.

'Shatter the blood'...okay.

She focused her mana on the middle goblin's spear, remembering her training, and broke it into tiny fragments, sending them into the flesh around the wound. Through the mana, she felt the shards tearing into the flesh.

Driving the shards deeper into the flesh she found the heart and drove them through it. The heart was shredded and the goblin died.

She held out her hand, reaching out with her mana to the dead goblins, and drew out the blood. Just like the previous two, the blood was wrenched from their bodies, but only two of them. The third goblin, the one on the left, only had the blood leaking out of its wounds ripped away.

As she walked closer she realized that it was still alive, just barely. Blood leaked from its mouth with every breath as its head slowly rocked from side to side.

She raised her knife and slashed it's throat, its life instantly leaving the monster.

She tried to draw the blood out, finding that she could take it all.

Once they're dead, I can take all their blood. I'll need to let Anton know.

There was too much blood that she had to control, so much so that she was quickly starting to run out of mana. She brought enough blood to refill both of her vials, then released her control.

The blood liquefied, the three goblins impaled onto the stone slid loose and crumpled onto the ground. Bloody chunks of stone tumbled loose as well.

Verona was surprised that she had thrown them so hard. Though on reflection, considering that Anton had broken the blood with her knife, it made some sense.

She looked around for any other Yellow Goblins, there was nothing around.

Turning around she waved Anton and the other villagers over. She wondered what Anton would think of how she did.

---[]---

“Bloody hell Verona, you really did a number on them.” Anton said as he observed the carnage.

His magic left things electrocuted or charred, seeing this amount of blood was still a little shocking. The other villagers had the same look about them, each taking care not to step in the puddles of blood or near the corpses, as if it would come alive again at Verona's will.

Verona looked ecstatic with a massive grin, blood staining her face and the cloth covering her head.

“I...don't really understand what that means?” She asked as she trotted up to him, taking the spear back from him.

“Basically, you killed them very thoroughly.” Anton replied. He reached into his bag and brought out another cloth.

As he removed Verona's cloth on her head, he used both to remove the blood from her face. He knew that she could probably remove the blood with her powers, but she only giggled as he scrubbed at her face. Half a minute later, her face was mostly free of blood.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for her bag that Anton carried, “Going to need these extra pots.”

She brought out another four pots and some string. Anton quickly tied them to her waist. Now she looked like some sort of crazed alchemist, covered in and carrying blood.

“So, everyone, what do you think?” Verona turned and asked the other villagers. They had all been silent for some time.

“Um, glad you're on our side?” one of the men said, immediately hit in the gut by a female villager standing beside him.

The woman coughed, “Actually, I think I speak for everyone when I say that what you just did was very impressive.”

Everyone, even the villager hit in the gut, agreed. Verona let out a little cheer.

Anton patted her head to calm her down, he didn't want a cheer to send everything to go to waste.

“Verona, can you move the blood into one spot, even if its mixed with the dirt?”

“I'll give it a go.”

She held out a hand, Anton presumed that it was to help her control her power, and lifted it slightly.

The blood quivered and rose, though not all of it. The blood that had already mixed with the dirt remained motionless while that on the top rose into the air.

“Where do you want it?”

“Somewhere where it will be difficult for them to see.”

Verona looked left and right, deciding on a crack in the soil.

“We should move these bodies away too,” Anton said, grabbing a Yellow Goblin corpse by the leg.

They moved the six bodies to a small gap between two large boulders and covered them with grass. The blood still remaining on the ground had fresh dirt place on top. It wasn't a perfect cover-up, but Anton felt that it should at least buy them time if they get caught.

“A couple of you stay out here and make sure this entrance is clear when we need to retreat.”

“You got it.” three villagers stayed behind, two where the villagers that spoke before.

Verona walked forward to the cave entrance.

“How do we see in there? It'll get pretty dark when we go into there.” She said as she looked back concerned.

Pitch black probably. We'll need to make torches, I suppose. Unless...

“Has anyone got torches?” Anton asked tentatively.

Six of the villagers raised their hands, opened their bags to reveal several small torches.

“Huh, good that the plan was completely thought out. Although...”

Anton held his hand out and summoned several small fireballs. While they drained virtually no mana they did provide a massive amount of light.

One of the villagers used the summoned fire to light the torch, quickly spreading it to the others.

Verona refused a torch.

“I'll stay next to you. I need both hands to properly use my spear.”

Anton nodded as they started walking into the cave, having to Verona by the collar of her shirt so she did not run head-first into the pitch black cave.

---[]---

After a few meters the sunlight began to receded, the only light from the fires they carried. The tunnel did not look natural, though Anton guessed that it had been some time since it had been constructed. What were once flat and straight rocks had become rounded and broken over time.

The tunnel went downwards slightly as they walked. Nearly a minute later of traveling through the tunnel, a villager yelped in pain. He had stubbed his foot on a large rock jutting out of the floor.

“How do they see in here?” one of the villagers asked, helping the villager to keep walking.

“Their eyes are so much bigger than ours,” Anton replied, “With just the tiniest amount of light they could probably see quite well. That's why they always look so bizarre to us when we see them during the day.”

“Huh.” the villager said in return. Anton did not want to explain how that worked, thankfully they seemed to accept it.

As they moved further into the mountain it started to increase in humidity. The floor started to become wet to the touch, further in there were small trickles of water running through the cracks .

No wonder they needed to bail out water. This is just from one entrance, and that ones doesn't funnel the water in. We still haven't come to a junction yet and there's quite a bit of water. I wouldn't have wanted to have been in here the past three days in the other parts of the caves.

Roughly ten minutes passed and they reached their first junction.

There were two pathways, and the one to the left they could see that it branched off twice again, one going down very steeply. The water followed the grooves and went down the tunnel on the right.

Anton picked up a small rock and on the wall etched an arrow back to the entrance. Verona nudged him and pointed to the mark.

“To find our way out?” she asked.

“Exactly.” Anton replied. “We don't want to get lost in here.”

Under the light of the fire he could see that she looked very happy at figuring out Anton's actions.

“So, which way do we go?” looking expectantly at him.

He looked at the pathways. None seemed to be interesting.

The light flickered on the wall of the tunnel on the left heading sharply down. A tiny glimmer caught his attention.

As he walked closer he realized they were scratches running down the side of the wall. They looked like they were from a hand desperately clawing for freedom, definitely not the marks of a Yellow Goblin.

“Is that?-” a villager asked, pointing further down the scratch marks.

Verona rushed forward and grabbed something lodged in a crevice along the scratch marks.

It was a fingernail.

Anton sent a fireball further down, seeing the scratch marks continuing along the tunnel.

“Looks fresh.” Verona said as she peered at it more closely. “Oh, judging by the blood. It looks a few days old, maybe four or five.”

“How do you know that?”

Verona chuckled nervously as she scratched her head.

“It's just what the blood feels like. I can't really explain it.”

Verona had not turned off her powers, so she continued to glow red. If a Yellow Goblin found her in the dark it would probably think she's some sort of demon.

“I wonder...we lost a scout at about that time. Dana, I think her name is.” Anton pointed down the scratched pathway. “The other directions leads to who knows where. If we're right, we could rescue someone out of this.”

“We're up for it.” One of the villagers said, seemingly speaking the same thoughts as the rest. Verona agreed as well.
Anton started heading down the relatively steep tunnel. He made sure that he made as little noise as possible.

“If they're bringing her and the other villagers this way, it's for a reason. We've been lucky so far and not met any of them, but we soon will. Keep your wits about you.”

Verona dashed infront of him leading the way. With her bare feet she barely made a sound, while the others were have to go much slower to remain quiet.

Nearly every minute she would stop to allow them to catch up, though she only smiled sweetly and said nothing.

Very quickly the tunnel flattened out. Every so often they would see another scratch mark, becoming less deep. The person was running out of strength the further they went down.

Verona ran forward again, keeping her body close to the wall. She held out her hand to stop them, waving them to walk very slowly.

“Hide the fire.” Verona whispered.

Anton disposed of the fireballs and the villagers tried their best to hide the light. She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him so he stood over her and could see around.

Along the continuing tunnel, off to the side, two large and heavily armed and armored Yellow Goblins stood either side, lounging outside of a torch lit entrance to another cave.

These were not like the others. They wore iron armor, lightly rusted by time, over their front. There was not much room for weapons to penetrate their armor, though it seemed that their back was completely exposed, just like the normal Yellow Goblins. Short steel swords rested at their hip and they held a small shield on their hands.

“They're guards, something valuable should be inside there. Whoa, back up.”

Anton pulled Verona back a bit and covered her silver hair.

A normal Yellow Goblin walked up to the guards, trying to get through. It screeched in their strange language, before being pushed back and falling onto the ground. The other goblin screeched and raged, standing up and charging again.

The guards drew their swords and blocked its passage. It took this as the signal to stop. With a huff, it began walking in their direction.

Verona pushed Anton back and drew her knife.

The goblin muttered something as it walked toward their direction, turning its head back towards the guards as it turned around the corner. Thankfully, it was so angry that it did not see the light.

As it rounded the corner and out of sight of the guards she attacked. Verona grabbed its mouth with her right hand and stabbed its chest again and again. Anton saw the look of fear on its face before its life left its body.

She held it tight and twisted the blade to make sure, finally resting it gently against the side of the wall.

The other villagers looked shocked at what they saw, Verona just smirked and tossed the knife between her hands.

“Ver?” Anton leant in and whispered into her ear.

“Sorry. I just get so worked up when I see them.” She turned around and leant into his chest. “Everything...I just loose control.”

“It's okay.” Anton held her close around her head. “We also got to take the others out. Can you do that while keeping your head?”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and drew the blood out of all of her vials.

“I won't take any chances with them.” she said, her marks glowing a little brighter as they formed, what Anton would call, javelins.

“I think I can pierce their armor and if I don't kill them, I'll just shatter the blood and rip their bodies apart from the inside.”

“Is that what you did before?” Anton asked, genuinely interested.

“Yeah. There was the voice again and it told me to do that.” She turned and saw the look of worry on Anton's face. “I've only heard it a few times and it just tells me something new.”

She turned and peered around the corner. Both of the guards had resumed idling around. With a flick of her wrist, she flung the blood javelins straight at them.

The javelin pierced the gap on the neck of the closest Yellow Goblin, killing it instantly. It let out a wretched and bloody cry as it died. The other turned towards its friend, receiving the impact of the other javelin in the center of one of its eye. Some blood fragments, released from the impact, floated around the spear, slowly reforming onto the javelin.

As they both slumped down dead Verona glowed a little brighter and brought back the blood javelins, turning them back to liquid and back into the pots.

“Oh, Anton. When I kills something with my blood power, I can take all of the blood from the body. Taking and controlling a whole bodies worth of blood takes it out of me.”

“It seems too easy with you here.” A villager said to Verona. She shrugged but seemed to agree with them.

“Anyway, good work Ver. Move as much blood as you can and we'll move the bodies again.”

The bodies and blood were hidden as best they could as they continued into the tunnel.

The first thing Anton noticed was the smell. While the air was generally musty and still, this place was different. While it did smell a little more fresh, there was something else there. It was slightly musky, and became more intense as they continued forward.

“Ugh,” Verona said as she jovially covered her nose, “What is that?”

A female villager caught up and leant beside her. Anton recognized her as one of the women that came with them on the trip to the lake.

“Well, when two people who love each-other very much-”

“We're not doing that talk now.” Anton cut the woman off. She gave him a wicked smirk while Verona looked between the two with a blank face.

“I know what that means. I've....anyway, is that what we're smelling?” Verona tried to move the conversation forward.

“Yeah.” the woman said, taking a deep sniff as they moved forward. “There, can you hear that?”

Anton brought the group to a halt. In the distance they could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

“Is that?” Anton asked.

“Yeah.” the villagers replied, charging forward.

Anton moved into their way and stopped them, surprise and anger on their faces. He knew, as so did the other villagers, that they were captured women. It was not hard to figure out what was happening.

“What-”

“Take a deep breath, everyone.”

The villagers did so, though their anger did not dissipate.

“We'll do this right.” he said, “And not just go charging in there. We will be getting them back.”

A light was at the end of the tunnel that bent away to the left, about thirty meters from the entrance. As they moved closer the noises continued to get louder.

Finally they reached the entrance the tunnel widened dramatically, allowing them to split evenly either side. Anton took one side with Verona, and peered around.

The sight shocked and sickened him.

A few torches inside the cave flickered over an unholy sight: dozens upon dozens of women were splayed and tossed around the large cave, each seemingly in a different state of pregnancy. Some looked bloated, easily looking like they had twenty or more babies gestating in their wombs. Their faces were bloody and broken, just like the rest of their bodies. Piles of waste were pushed near the entrance. He was sure there were bodies mixed in amongst it.

They had been treated worse than slaves, like pieces of meat to be used and discarded.

As he looked closer he could see many Yellow Goblins walking around, occasionally poking or prodding the captured women. Although, these looked different. While they normally just wore a loincloth, but most of these wore a a full body dress made from rags of clothes.

Are those...female Yellow Goblins? Can they not breed by themselves, or is it just easier and efficient to use humans.

The males here looked different as well; a little less deformed, slightly taller and a better build on them.

Using the strongest to breed?...Not a bad decision I guess.

A woman in at the front started to scream and groan, bringing a bloody hand and mutilated arm to her stomach. As her legs started to flail about the female Yellow Goblins rushed to her, followed by the males.

They grabbed a loose piece of cloth and jammed it in her mouth to keep her quiet, the other women cried and tried to hold her hand but could not reach. Tears streamed down their faces.

Despite the cloth the woman let out an almighty scream, she writhed and arched her back. A female goblin pulled back, carrying a small yellow baby in its arm. It looked down at it, its eyes inspecting it like a piece of fruit.

The villagers that could see suppressed their gasps.

Verona leaned around to look, quickly covering her mouth at the sight.

The goblin picked it up and dangled it by its feet. This goblin only had a single arm. A frown crossed the females face.

It swung the baby into the cold stone. The skull broke with a sickening thud, its body rolling on the ground. Blood started to leak out from its broken skull.

The female goblin returned to the others infront of the still groaning and whimpering woman, as if nothing had happened. A male, trying to get closer, stepped on the corpse and kicked it towards the entrance.

Verona yelped in surprise, Anton covering her mouth to prevent her from making any more sounds. The other villagers were equally holding back their cries but whatever means they could muster.

His eyes were transfixed on the dead baby, before Verona jabbed him in the stomach, bringing him back to the present.

“What do we do?” She whispered. He could feel her shaking lightly underneath his hand.

Anton looked again, counting the Yellow Goblins. There were about forty in total, thirty were females tending to the villagers with another ten males wandering about, looking for a 'willing' partner. He could also see that there were no other entrances, at least from where they stood.

“Okay you lot, you want your revenge?” Anton whispered to the others, nodding in response. “It's quite cluttered in there, so be careful not to get killed. I'll throw this fireball in to give you lot light and as a distraction. You ready?”

“You're not coming?” a villager behind him asked.

Anton shook his head.

“Going to let you guys get your revenge.”

The villagers readied their weapons to attack. Anton summoned a small fireball and pushed it to the center of the room.

As the room brightened, the goblins stopped and looked up. It took them a few seconds to realize what it was. Some of the males started screeching, looking towards the entrance. Their faces dropped as they saw the villagers heads poking around.

“Kill them!” Anton yelled, the villagers charging with their spears.

Panic overcame their distorted faces as they searched for another exit, but there was none. The Villagers, armed with leather armor and steel tipped spears, stabbed and tore apart the goblins with no mercy.

It did not matter whether they were male or female, all were killed.

Some tried to hide behind the captive women, only be be dragged kicking and screaming out into the open where they could be killed. Anton even saw one female goblin picked up by the legs and smashed into the cavern wall, its head crumpling in just like the child.

A few seconds of carnage and stifled screams, the goblins were dead. The villagers were shaking when Anton and Verona walked into the cave.

“Is that....that all of them?” a villager asked, turning around with his spear raised.

“That's-”

Anton was interrupted by a screech. A female goblin had survived at the far edge of the the cavern and was running to the exit, only a few meters away.

“Don't let it escape!”

Verona moved infront and drew out a vials worth of blood, forming it into a solid sphere, and flung it at the goblin's head. With a crack, the goblin flew back a meter.

She threw the sphere into its head, again and again, until crumpled. With a sigh, she brought the blood back into her vial.

“Good work Ver.” Verona smiled and saluted. “Now, what about them?”

Anton and the others walked to the woman still in the throes of labor. One of the villagers grabbed a cloth and draped it over her naked body.

Her face was horrific; she was missing an eye, teeth broken and bruises of all colors.

With her good hand she reached blindly for Anton. He grabbed her hand as she held his with all the might she could muster.

“Dana! Are you here?!” A male villager frantically searched between the women. He was the same villager that went on the scouting mission towards the mountain. Anton was not sure if he was a brother or a husband, not that it really mattered now.

“Here.” came a weak reply. The villager rushed over to the far side of the cave, barely holding back his tears. He pulled up a woman, bruised and battered but otherwise fine.

“Thank-you. Thank-you everyone for coming for me.” she said weakly as she clung to the villager. “I've only been here a few days but it's been hell. Take me home.”

Anton waved them over to the entrance.

“And what about the rest of you?”

“Please..” she said in a croaky whisper, “Kill me.”

“We can get you out of here.” Anton said, trying to stop her thoughts of death.

She shook her head and stared him in the eye.

“I've been here for months...I've given birth to hundreds of those things....we all have. I...I can't...” She weakly raised her arms and pointed to the other women. They only cried in response.

Anton placed his hand onto her head.

“I can, but only if your sure.”

“I just want to sleep. Please, let me sleep.”

Anton took a deep breath, gathering mana into his hand. He formed it into a lightning bolt and fired it straight into her head.

With a final twitch her whole body fell limp, the last breath leaving her body. A scorch mark on her forehead the only sign that she had died.

The cries and please of the women become louder, seeing that their fellow captive was released from their prison. Another villager offered to use a blade. They refused, muttering that they wanted to go out instantly and painlessly.

Anton took a deep breath and set to work on the grim task.

---[]---

Of the 38 women that were held captive, only Dana wanted to be saved. All of the captives had been there for many months, the mental strain proved to be too much.

Anton had been the one to end their lives.

Ending those lives, not in anger, left Anton drained physically and mentally. He leant against cave wall to keep himself upright. Verona hovered around him, trying to help, though she did not know what to do.

He told them that they would take a few minutes to get their breath and refresh their minds.

The male villager looking for Dana turned out to be her brother, so Anton felt a little a better about what he had done. Anton still wanted know everything Dana knew before they left.

“They dragged me through the caves, but not to here first.” Dana explained. “First, it was to a massive chamber at what I think was the center of the mountain...they...well.”

She looked down. No explanation was needed.

“There were almost two hundred of us at the beginning. They helped me as best they could. Then what could have been half a day later, it was hard to keep track of time, a whole bunch of Yellow Goblins left. They seemed really excited and worked up.”

Dana looked towards the cave and sighed.

“It really wasn't fun for any of us.”

“They launched an attack against us.” Anton told her. Dana frowned but Anton shook his hands. “They didn't kill too many, but we got just about all of them.”

“Thanks to you.” Verona playfully punched him in the side.

“Well,” Dana continued, “A few came back. They were angry, and some smelled burnt.”

“That's definitely them.” Verona said.

“They started fighting amongst themselves, and it quickly spread to us. It looked like some sort of power struggle. The other girls told me not to fight back, but it didn't matter. Over half of us were killed in the struggle before their boss, this giant Yellow Goblin covered in some green armor, took control. He sent us off to here, probably out of the way from the rest of them. ”

“How many are there left?” Anton asked. He needed to know to help him figure out the next plan.

“There were about ten thousand or so at the beginning. Now, there should be about eight or seven thousand.”

“That's still way too many for us.” Anton muttered under his breath.

“I'm sorry that I don't have better news for you.”

“Its fine. Do you know the way? We want to set off a fire-storm in the mountain and kill as many as we can before retreating.”

Dana looked at the floor, her brother rubbed her shoulder to comfort her.

“I don't want her to stay here any longer. We stopped them from making any more, so we should leave.” The brother told Anton as he started to take her away.

“With them dead, they'll come for fresh conquests. And then they'll take everyone, including her.”

The brother did not argue, stopping while cursing under his breath.

“There is something.” Dana said as she turned back to Anton. “Along the path they took us, towards the center. If you keep going along that path, it'll go down quite a fair way, then it'll start to go up to the main caverns. At the bottom, there's a whole bunch of caves. I caught a glimpse of some barrels, they looked like they were full of oil, maybe for the torches. I don't know, but there's a whole bunch of other stuff in there as well that looks valuable.”

Anton liked the idea.

“If we set that on fire, we might be able to kill most of them by filling the caves with smoke. How far is the main caves from the entrances?”

“Quite a bit. I think it's in the center of the mountain.”

“Perfect.” Anton said loudly. “We have our plan.”

The other villagers had been listening in.

Anton pointed to the brother. “You two, and a few others, head out and explain what happened. We'll find this hoard, set it alight, and get out of there. Understood?”

---[]---

Following the single path, it did not take long to find the hoard. Dana and the others made it to the exit tunnel safely, all looking very happy to be away from the cave.

Now, Anton was worried about how long it would take to find the women dead. He feared they would go for an all-out attack straight away.

Anton guessed that the Yellow Goblins that they currently saw were loyal to the current boss, to keep out the others, like the one trying to get to the women. It would explain why there were so few found so far, the boss did not want much attention brought here. Or maybe he did not have many to spare.

Verona had worked much harder than he had expected. During the whole time she had not turned off her power, and the few times they had met a Yellow Goblin, she had killed it without any hesitation. It made their travel very easy. Before reaching the hoard they only met eight single Yellow Goblins.

There were over a dozen armored Yellow Goblins outside the hoard. Verona killed them without making a sound, using two blood javelins and skewering the goblins like meat over a fire.

The hoard, such as it was, consisted of four caves off of the main tunnel.

Dana had not been lying when she said it was full of treasure. Two of the caves were full of gold, gems and fine weapons. Some weapons and armor looked like they were not made from steel; some were green, blue and black.

One of the other caves was empty, but the other was full of cloth, large wooden clubs and many barrels. He presumed these were the torches.

Some of the villagers stood guard, while most of the other villagers rifled through the treasure. They looked quite excited at seeing so much gold. Some were putting them into their pockets.

“Unless you have a way to take all of it now, I'm not interested in taking that back with us. Out of your pockets, now.” Anton told them.

A collective sigh ran through the villagers, as they emptied their pockets but retained the weapons and shields. He would need to ask Jonathan as to what sort of metals they were made from.

Verona seemed transfixed on a section on one of the piles. As she saw Anton's gaze, she apologized and tried to not look interested.

“What have you got?”

“Oh, I thought I saw something.”

She resumed searching through the pile. After throwing off some swords, she brought out a spear. It looked completely different to every other weapon there.

The spear was a little longer than her current one and a little bit thicker. The shaft was black, Anton thought it was metal but as he looked it turned out to be some sort of wood. The tip was a large red crystal, looking as if it was crudely shaped to a point. The wood joining the two parts together looked as if it had continued to grow around and lodge the gem into the top. Overall, it looked a little strange but Verona seemed quite smitten by it.

“It looks strange.”

Verona handed him the spear. It felt as heavy as her normal spear. He ran his finger over the edge of the tip, nearly cutting himself with a tiny amount of effort.

“Well, it's sharp enough.” Anton said as he handed it back. “Hope Jonathan won't be upset.”

“I'm sure he'll be fine. Everyone else here uses his weapons and they've taken new ones.”

Verona was right, thankfully they had kept their old weapons.

“Anyway, can you help with these lids? I want to see what's inside them.”

Anton tried to pry a lid open by himself, but Verona pushed him back. She used the new spear on the gap as a lever.

Inside there was a thick viscous liquid, probably tar.

“Perfect. We'll pour some of these out and set them alight.”

Anton was about to tip one over when a villager caught his attention.

“We found something Anton.” A villager waved him over in excitement.

She and another villager were holding a very large wooden chest between them.

“Something to take the gold out with?” he asked.

“Something better than that.”

The woman opened the chest. It was brimming with gold and weapons. Both women should not even be able to lift it off the ground, let alone with one hand with no problem.

Anton took one end, the whole chest was probably as heavy as Verona's new spear. He took out a gold coin. It was extremely heavy for its small size, just like gold is supposed to be. Movies from Earth had nearly always portrayed gold as lightweight, but he knew that it was an incredibly dense metal. There was only one way that he knew could explain this. Magic.

He looked around the chest and found nothing. After telling them to raise it he looked underneath. Scrawled underneath were five small white circles with a white gem in the center, one in each corner and one in the middle. The glowed ever so faintly. Anton pushed downwards on the crate, the marks glowed brighter for an instant before returning to its usual glow.

“It's got a device on the bottom that makes it easier to lift, by taking the weight. I imagine.” Anton said as he got to his feet. “Are there any more?”

“Oh,” the villager looked back to the cave. “Around five more.”

“Well, fill them up with weapons and any gaps with gold. Chop Chop!”

The villagers quickly started doing as he said. He turned his attention back to the barrels of tar. With Verona's help, he took half of them to the empty cave and poured a few of them out.

A minute passed, a few barrels of tar poured out onto the ground and the villagers continued to load the chests.

“Where are the Yellow Goblins?” Verona asked, “Surely there should be more coming.”

Anton listened, but heard nothing.

“There should be a patrol soon. I don't think this is all their treasure though. Probably has stashes throughout the mountain. Have you guys loaded yet?”

“Almost, we've-” Everyone stopped, a rock tumbled down the tunnel traveling further into the mountain. Screeches and clicks became louder quickly.

They stopped. Anton thought they may have gone through another tunnel. He was wrong.

A single Yellow Goblin peered its head down, and screamed, loud enough for Anton to recoil slightly. The scream carried up the tunnel, more and more goblins joining in.

“Well, they've made us. Time to retreat.” Anton said loudly.

“Just a little bit more. We're almost done.”

Anton saw them shoveling in whatever they could. They were almost full but the rapidly encroaching goblins did not stop them.

“That'll have to do you greedy bastards. Verona, I need you to get ready.”

She nodded, drawing out two vials worth of blood. Anton summoned a dozen fireballs and threw half of them at the tar. The tar lit, the fire slowly spreading to the leaking barrels. Thick black smoke began to rise from to pools of tar.

Within a few seconds the smoke had engulfed the entire cave. It was becoming difficult to breath already.

They ran as fast as they could, both Verona and Anton checking behind them for pursuers. The villagers seemed to trust them with this task.

When they made it to the junction, Anton stopped. Verona took a few more paces before stopping herself.

“Why have you stopped?” she asked, grabbing at his shirt.

“We need to buy a little more time.”

“So, how do we do that?”

Anton smiled, forming the circular mana in his mind. Along all the tunnels there was the sound of movement and the flickering of torchlight. From the tunnel they just came from, the smoke started to bellow out.

Before, when he allowed Esperit, the fire goddess, to take control, the mana rings had been pushed out like they were disks. This time he turned them, feeling that they would flow down the tunnels towards the center. He let go of the mana.

Fire spontaneously erupted at the entrance of the tunnels and roared along them. The goblins were close enough to scream as they burned.

When he stopped, there was a gentle breeze coming from behind.

Verona bounced impatiently as Anton stared down the tunnels. Far in the distance he could hear movement coming towards him.

That fire should have traveled hundreds of meters, especially in these narrow corridors. It may have given some air flow to the tar fire.

“Okay, you did whatever you needed to do. Now, we need to go!” She grabbed him by the hand.

Screeches and gawks still game from tunnels and they were closing fast.

“Good call.”

He ran, almost carrying Verona under his arm as they ran to the exit.

---[]---

The Yellow Goblins were relentless in their pursuit. Anton had no idea if his plan to suffocate them actually could work, but now he had no choice but to run.

After a minute of running, the goblins were already biting at their heels. Verona jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. He nearly tripped in surprise, but she patted him on the chest.

“Keep running. I've got this.”

Her saying those words, that preceded her bloodthirsty rage, did not help his concentration.

She brought up the blood from her six vials, forming spears. As she turned her head, she brought her hand to face the goblins.

Anton could not see, but he could hear, the sound of the crystallized blood smashing and shatter onto stone and steel.

Shit, they're so close.

They kept coming. Anton hoped that the entire mountains worth of goblins were not coming after him.

“Fuck this.” Verona hissed.

He turned his head, against his judgement, and looked back. The blood spears shattered, turning into crystals smaller than a coin. With a grunt she pushed them into the slavering horde and tore them apart.

The crystal shards flew further than the twenty meters. Anton thought that was her limit. It seemed that she could push herself, though not without consequence.

Through his back he could feel her pulse quicken then drop sharply as she collapsed on him.

He stopped and turned around. A tunnel of carnage greeted him. Shards of blood jutted out of the still bodies and embedded into the stone wall. Behind that he could hear still more goblins following. Scraping and screeches reverberated in his mind.

“Just die already!”

He formed a lightning bolt and fired it down the tunnel. The bolts arced and swirled wildly, sparking as it hit the goblins. They crackled and popped under the surge of power.

As the bolt traveled down further it illuminated the tunnel. There was nothing else following them. He guessed the shards had flown almost fifty meters.

She had used more magic in her first few days than Anton had. Such usage so early certainly would explain her tiredness. The fact she was still conscious and breathing was a testament to her strength.

“You still with me?”

She rubbed her face into his back, that was all she could muster for now. He held his hand over hers and used some prayer magic. Some strength seemed to return to her.

“That really took it out of me. I can barely feel my face.”

“We'll get you a Karak fruit when we're outside. That should help.”

The villagers had moved very quickly and had already exited the mountain when Anton and Verona escaped.

He heard a whistle from the forest, villagers waving them over. They remained on-guard, probably thinking the goblins were still on their heels.

They missed another moment of carnage. Guess we'll have to tell the stories.

The first thing he noticed was that it was late in the afternoon. Much more time had passed than he thought.

Dana was right, it is hard to keep track of time in there.

When they made it to the villagers they all let out a cheer, patting both of them on the back.

“Have a look there.” The male villager who was punched in the gut pointed to the south of the mountain.

Smoke poured out of the entrances. Against the smoke their yellow bodies stood out. Those goblins keeping guard were running around in a state of panic. Some were starting to come out, falling onto the ground in violent seizures. Others were being dragged out and did not move.

Never have a fire in an enclosed space....I should remember that for myself. I wonder how many are going to die.

“Ha, gets what's coming to them.” Anton triumphantly said. “We'll head back the way we came. No breaks, they'll be coming through that tunnel soon.”

With a groan, the villagers got up and started to carry the chest back to Atros.

Anton stopped for a moment. Carrying Verona was not as hard as he thought, but he still did not want to keep her in her current state. He reached into the bag, now hanging off his shoulder, and brought out a Karak fruit. With some hesitation she bit into the sweet fruit. She did not care about it dripping over Anton as she ate.

A minute later she seemed to be doing better.

“Is that what running out of mana feels like?” she asked drowsily.

“Pretty much. You want to go to sleep? I'll carry you back.”

“I guess. I don't really want to though.”

Anton handed her another fruit, which she ate more rapidly this time.

They walked in silence at the rear of the, now jovial, group.

Eventually, Anton broke the silence.

“You're very brave, you know that.” He felt her tilt her head. “Most people....I would expect people around your age just to freak out and scream at seeing that. You held up very well. I'm very proud of you.”

A slight groan escaped her lips.

“And what about you?”

“Hmm?”

“How are you holding up?”

He did not really know how to answer that. Killing those women had left its mark.

He patted her on the hand, trying to reassure her. She did not answer, but tightened the hold on his neck. Neither said anything until they reached Atros.

-------------------

Hello, speed writing!!!

I started this after posting the previous one, so I think I did very well for the time.

About the gore-ish things, I wanted to try and show that this world was not nice or pleasant in any way. Life, on the whole, is very cheap. Also, I've never written something like that, so it's rather new to me.

So, not much else to say. Maybe the next one in the same-ish time.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 017 - Vol 1

Chapter 017:

It was almost dusk when they made it back to Atros. Verona was still on Anton's back. She had said nothing since the mountain but seemed unwilling to move.

A thunderous cheer and applause erupted from the western wall as they approached. It seemed that almost every villager had come out to greet them, some stood on the stone wall while the rest remained behind and cheered over.

The gate creaked open and villagers poured out.

Anton could see the look of true happiness and relief on their faces. As they approached the cheering got louder and louder.

Out of the sprawling crowds Jeff and Sam pushed their way through, quickly followed by Bertram and Sybil.

“We honestly thought you were dead.” Jeff said as he approached Anton through the returning armed villagers. They stopped, placing the chests on the ground, and looked to Jeff.

“What's in the chests?” he asked. Anton waved for them to open them. Jeff and the others eyes nearly popped out of their skulls at the sight of the gold and weapons.

They were practically salivating, especially as more villagers came forward to see the gold. One villager tried to grab some but was quickly slapped away.

“How much do you think Bertram?” Anton asked, Bertram's attention drawn away from the piles of gold.

“Well....er....” he picked one of the coins up and felt it in his hands before looking at it more closely. “These are from the Royal Treasury. See the crown on the faces.”

Bertram shifted through the crowd to Anton and showed him the coin. In the mountain, he had not paid them much attention. Both sides had the image of a crown with eight points.

“Does that mean this is all from the treasury? So much for that vault.” Anton said as he chucked the coin back into the chest.

“It doesn't look good.” Bertram replied, “I left before the capital fell, so it's possible somebody tried to flee with these.”

He slowly bent over and rubbed the chest with his hands.

“I never thought I would see something like these chests again. Light-Crested chests, how many marks do they have on the base?”

“Five.” said one of the villagers carrying the chests.

“Those are rare. A five crest. Costs about four hundred silver for each one. You can already see why they are so valuable. Were there any more?”

Anton shrugged. “Maybe somewhere else in the mountain, but we really didn't have much time after setting off the fire.”

“We could see that from here.” Sam said as she pushed through the crowd to stand next to Jeff. “That's why we were so relieved to see that you were alive.”

She nodded towards the mountain. Anton had been keeping an eye behind him on the ground mainly to watch for pursuers. He looked back at the mountain, the darkening red of the light providing providing a backdrop to his work.

Smoke continued to bellow out of the mountain, all along its sides. He was surprised that there were some entrances almost at the top of the mountain. It was too far away to see any Yellow Goblins, but any that remained within the mountain would surely be dead by now. Now it was just a case of how many survived.

“Did Verona get caught up in that?” Sybil asked, a hint of anger in her voice.

“No,” Verona spoke from Anton's back, “I just, overdid things and I really feel exhausted.”

A bit of relief overcame her face.

“We could do this outside here, but there's a few things we need to go over. Also find out what's exactly in these crates and get them somewhere safe.”

Jeff shouted to the crowd to part and let them through. Anton followed them. Being so close to home made him feel his tiredness and exhaustion so much more.

---[]---

Everyone that hadn't arrived at the western gate to greet them now gathered in the central plaza. At Anton's behest, Jeff and some of the other villagers got the large table for Anton to stand on. The villagers brought the chests onto the porch of the Main Hall, then took their position amongst the crowd.

Verona, still somewhat weak from her exertion, could barely stand without help. Sam came to her aid and helped her sit on a chair from inside that Sybil brought out.

Anton stood upon the table and motioned for the crowd to quieten. The tiredness was starting to become quite noticeable. He used some prayer magic to try and keep himself alert. It seemed to work, but used a considerable amount of his magic.

The crowd quietened, waiting on his words.

“Thank-you everyone. I'll get to the point...We found most of the women that had been taken by the Yellow Goblins.”

A hushed whisper overcame the crowd, quickly becoming murmurs of confusion. While no-one had died only one extra person had come back, Dana, and she had only been gone a few days.

Anton took a deep breath.

“They were being raped and tortured, used to breed their armies. We put an end to their suffering. None had the strength to return.”

The crowd was stunned into silence. Some looked to the soldiers that had just returned, they hung their heads low. The villagers were even more stunned.

“That is the fate that awaits every woman in this village should they win tomorrow, ever man will die knowing what awaits them.”

He paused for a moment, letting it sink in. The villagers were becoming angry, though not at him, he hoped.

Anger is better than hopelessness in this situation.

He pointed towards the smoking mountain.

“That...that smoke and fire, shows that we are not only willing to strike but have enough strength left to really hurt them where they live. Right now they'll be regrouping and organizing, getting ready for revenge and conquest. It should not take them too long to figure it out. Tonight, or tomorrow, no matter the outcome, will be the last battle we have with them. So everyone, be ready. Dig deep within yourselves and find whatever you need to win. But, no matter what they throw at us, we will win!”

He threw his fist into the air, the villagers copying as they cheered. They kept cheering as they began banging their weapons on their shields. It echoed throughout the village in a thunderous roar.

That went well. I hope it lasts through to when they attack.

“Jeff?” Anton asked.

“Yeah.”

“Get as many people as you need and plant torches around the outside of the village, about one to two hundred feet out. Enough so everything is illuminated. If they rally early, we can take away their ability to fight well in the dark.”

“Got it!” Jeff pointed to several armed villagers in the crowd. “You lot, come with me. Go to the storehouse and gather as many torches as you can carry. Avery?”

Anton had missed Avery slink through the crowd and onto the porch.

“You're in-charge on the soldiers for now. Do the patrols and make sure they're alert and got everything they need.”

“Keep doing what I've been doing. On it.”

Avery's reply was dripping with sarcasm, but neither seemed to take it as anything more than their usual way of interacting. He left through the crowds towards the north.

Zac and Jonathan had moved through the crowd as well. Anton did not have much for them to do. Everything they could do would either take too long or had already been done.

“I take it we've got nothing better to do?” Zac asked. Anton nodded in agreement.

“Actually, we'll need help to count and figure out what some of these are.” Anton opening one of the chests and bringing out a green metal sword. Jonathan's eyes widened at the sight.

“Those are made from Bosciycium. Pretty tough but heavy. Expensive too, I would not mind working with the ore one day.”

“That's great. We'll give these to the best soldiers then.”

“Sorry to interrupt you boys,” Sam said quite loudly, “I would very much like to talk to Verona about a few things. Considering that it might be our last night, we might as well take a bath.”

“We have a bath here?” Anton asked. He had not seen one in the village, and every day he felt like he needed one more and more urgently.

“Actually, that was us.” Jonathan pointing to himself and Zac.

“We decided to use some of the leftover material and build a bathhouse. We were going to show it to you as a surprise after you came back, but...”

“A place to properly clean ourselves? Here?” Anton asked.

“Well,” Jonathan scratched the back of his head, “To be honest, it's just an enclosure near the well. Walls high enough that you can't see in.”

Zac continued. “Everything's in buckets and there's no hot water. But it's not bad for cleaning yourself up.”

Anton looked at Verona. She was still covered in quite a bit of blood. The bath may also help her get some strength back, at the least help her relax a little.

“Sounds like a good idea. You okay with that Verona?”

She nodded, getting to her feet with help from Sam.

“I'll get a few extra friends of mine to join in. They would love a chance to clean themselves properly. Get a few extra women to make sure nobody peeks in.”

“Okay, but bring her back safely.”

Sam looked at him then to the still smoking mountain. “After that, I don't think many people would want to piss you off, least of all me. I'll make sure she's well looked after.”

She took Verona by the hand and led her through the dissipating crowd.

“She'll be fine.” Sybil said. “I trust Sam and her friends.”

“Okay. Next...”

Anton scanned the crowd for Dana. She was very close to the front, along with her brother, who still supporting her. A number of people were around her. Some where in tears, others looked as if they wanted to hug her but held back.

Her eyes met his, he waved her over. She and her brother hurried over while the others remained where they were.

“There are a few things I've been thinking about, regarding your future.”

Both of them tensed but Anton shook his head.

“Not something like that. More about what might happen down there.”

Dana seemed to get his meaning.

“There's a chance that you may be carrying their...children-”

“If that happens, I'll deal with it when then.” Dana said defiantly.

Sybil coughed awkwardly.

“My mother taught me a few things. After this is over, we could get a few herbs that could cause a miscarriage. It tastes truly foul and it'll take quite a bit to keep it down but it works.”

Anton looked at her with worried eyes. Sybil smiled sweetly.

“Nobles often had trysts and affairs, and children born from them would devastate the noble families. I had been involved in cleaning up quite a few of those, back when I was younger.”

Anton nodded, not really wanting to continue the line of inquiry.

“Will you be alright with your brother?”

They both nodded.

“I will. If it's alright with you, I want to talk with my friends and get some proper sleep.”

With that, they waved goodbye as they headed back into the crowd. Anton was not sure if she would actually make it, but with everyone around her in a safe environment she had the best chance of recovering.

Anton turned her attention back to the chests of gold and weapons.

“Now, lets get these inside and figure out how much else we got.”

---[]---

The villagers hoard was the spare room that should have been Verona's. It already had a few small crates full of the multi-colored gems. Bertram, Sybil, Zac and Jonathan followed him in with the crates. The new crates were brought to the council chambers where they could be sorted, with the gold put into the hoard with the others with the rest of the valuables.

They opened the chess and dumped their contents over the floor. The gold was quickly sorted out and into the chests, filling three.

Bertram had been counting and recording them as best he could. After storing them in the spare room, they turned their attention to the leftovers.

“By the way Bertram, how rich are we now?” Anton asked.

Bertram was practically shaking with excitement as he looked over his papers again and again.

“If I'm right, we have over six thousand gold coins. Not to mention the gems, some of those are probably going to be worth a fortune.”

“More and more wealth piles up, yet we have no chance to spend it.”

The others seemed to get his meaning.

“We have something to focus on in the future at least.” Anton added.

He leant down and picked up a green sword. Most of the weapons and armor where made from this material. Only a few others were made from a different type of metal, three short swords made from a light blue material. There was nothing like Verona's spear amongst them. He had kept hold of it when Verona had gone off for a bath.

“So, Jonathan. You said these green ones were made from something...Bosciycium. Anything good?”

He nodded furiously.

“They're much stronger than steel. Weaker than titanium but easier to work with. They should cut through just about anything the Yellow Goblins throw at us. It should even be able to break through iron with a good enough swing.”

Anton picked up one of the short swords made from the blue material. The handle was made made from steel and covered in some incredibly old leather.

“Ah, Chelium. And...” Jonathan brought out a piece of wood from his pocket and ran it along the edge of the blades. It cut through with very little effort. “It looks like its been worked as hard as it can.”

Jonathan used Anton's Chelium sword and scored a mark on the Bosciycium metal. Tiny flakes of green metal curled up but there was nothing from the blue short sword. He passed it back to Anton.

“It's probably a little softer than Adamantian. There are harder metals, but I think they would bankrupt us to make anything like this.”

Anton looked towards Bertram.

“Some nobles had very little else to do other than show off their obscene wealth. Getting weapons like this was an easy way to show it off.”

“Okay. Well, when Jeff gets back, someone make sure that he gets these weapons to the best soldiers and send their to the next best.”

“Any idea what Verona's new spear is made from? I think it's some sort of wood, but I can't really tell what. Especially the crystal at the top.”

Jonathan and Zac looked at the spear, eventually shaking their heads.

“No idea lad.” Zac said as he handed the spear back. “Wood is just wood to me, though it seems very strong for wood.”

“Same with the crystal.” Jonathan added.

“If anything, it looks like something elves would make.” Sybil chipped in.

Anton looked at her, telling her to continue.

“About eight days ride from the capital to the south, so about ten to eleven from here, there's another forest. In there lives a huge kingdom of elves. Sometimes we would trade, so it's possible someone got this from there.”

The others looked towards Anton. He pursed his lips, thinking about it.

“While it would be good to trade with people that could make something like this, there's the Capital city to deal with. There could be tens of thousands, maybe even pushing on hundreds of thousands. It's not an idea yet.”

“The closest city is Maxill, to the west.” Bertram added, “The kingdom to the west should have survived. At the best of times it would take seven or so days of hard trekking. It's not that far, maybe two to three days walk if it was flat, it's just a quite difficult path. The closest city to the east is about ten days away, on flat and open ground.”

“So Maxill it is.” Anton said, “I remember you saying that it was infested with monsters.”

Bertram shifted uncomfortably.

“It is, but not that many the last time. You were pretty close and weren't attacked. I said that so you wouldn't try to leave us at the beginning. With a few good soldiers, and not making much noise, you should be able to get through it easily. I'm sorry I lied to you.”

“It's fine.” Anton said. “I probably would have done something like that anyway.”

Bertram relaxed and smiled.

They all started sorting the weapons and stacking the upright along the walls.

Anton saw something different underneath one of the weapons. He pushed it to the side, revealing a small book. It was covered in leather and bound shut by a piece of string.

As he picked it up Bertram made his way to him.

“Looks like a journal. Quite an old one.”

He took it off Anton and looked at the spine. He smiled as he looked at the engravings into the leather.

“I haven't seen this in decades. Sybil, have a look.”

She shuffled to his side, her face softened as she saw the mark. To Anton it looked like a circle with a cross on-top.

“Oh, it's from the Tigel family.” She looked towards Anton. “They were a middling noble family. Not bad, nor great people. Let's have a look.”

The string had almost completely rotted through age and humidity. The pages of the journal had suffered the safe fate. Most were barely legible and intact.

Bertram and Sybil frowned as they tried their best to find an intact page. Anton, Zac and Johnathan crowded around.

The pages at the center had completely degraded, though some at the back of the book had survived.

“Okay. We've got something.”

Sybil coughed before reading out the Journal's pages.

“We just traveled through another dismal provincial town. Penketh, I think it's name was. The stench of those unclean and unwashed peasants burns at my nose. We never had these problems back at the mansion. Never.”

“These nobles seem like jerks.” Anton commented.

“Most of them didn't even know where meat actually came from, beyond the kitchen.” Bertram added.

Sybil continued.

“If only we could return. Everything our family worked so hard for now lies in ruins, burning along with everything else in the capital. Those wretched Goblins and Orcs, and the pathetic soldiers that failed to protect our property. Everyone should burn in the depths of hell for what they have done. They came from the south, from the forest that was supposedly protected by those egotistical Wood Elves. Every fortress and garrison just gave up in the face of a pathetic invasion, turning on the nobles that gave them the food and wealth they needed to survive. Why? Now I, Juluis Tepil, have to flee with the rest of these rabble. Thankfully we managed to take everything of value. Our families soldiers are strong and loyal. It should be enough to establish ourselves somewhere safe. Most of the villages and towns that we pass have not even heard that the capital is in ruins. Just goes to show how pathetic and worthless the common man really is.”

“There is a lot of anger there to the people there.” Jonathan said.

“But it sounds like a mass exodus. Only from the capital at the moment.” Anton answered. “How far was Penketh from here anyway?”

“About a day and a half.” Bertram replied. “I remember the chaos afterwards. Many people went around Atros heading to the east, some even settled here after this village became the last haven for them.”

“It just continues like that for a while.” Sybil said as she flicked through the pages. “Four of them just going on and on about how it's the people's fault. Not his own, the nobles or aristocracy.”

Bertram scoffed. “Oh please, I worked with the treasury. There was virtually no money for the army, everything was corrupt to an incredible level.”

“Ah, here we go. This is written incredibly badly, I can barely read it. It looks like it was written in a hurry. There's dried blood on the pages.”

Sybil coughed again.

“Everything is gone. After we passed through yet another shitty village, Atros-”

“Aww.” Anton and Zac said aloud.

“We were attacked. Thousands upon thousands of Yellow Goblins descended upon us. Our guards, even with their elite training and armor, were slaughtered as they were taken by surprise. Everything of value was taken by the yellow cretins; food, weapons, women, but the gold. They took the gold. Everyone around me is dead, I hang onto my life by a thread. They let me live, for reasons I can't understand. I can still hear the goblins scratching their way around. I've lost everything. And now they come for me again. There-”

“Is that it?” Anton asked.

“There's a quite large blood stain after that. I think he was killed.”

“It gives us a little idea.” Anton said, though something else was gnawing at his mind. “Although...”

“Although?” Bertram asked.

“If this is about forty years old, and I don't mean to be offensive here, but considering how quickly they could breed with the captive women, with presumably hundred upon hundreds of women, why haven't you already been wiped out?”

Bertram opened his mouth to retort but stopped. Now that he thought about it, he seemingly did not have an answer.

“And for that matter, why were they after the Rock-Rats at the quarry? With a mountain that large they shouldn't have population problems. Where they really a threat to them? The goblins can just eat grass, at least they appear to. I don't know if it's anything, but it's just a thought.”

The others took a moment to think. Jonathan was the first to speak.

“It might be something. Now that I think about it, it does seem a little odd.”

“Well,” Bertram started, “If they're trying to take the village and the quarry, both to the south of the mountain. That leaves the north for something threatening them. We haven't been able to get anyone up there to check in a very long time. But this is just wild guesses.”

“Is there anything in the journal that hints what that might be?” Anton asked.

Sybil shook her head , flicking through the pages over and over.

“Only rants. Hang on, there's a line, just before the last entry. At the end it mentions Orcs attacking their convoy from the north east. It could be them.”

“I take it that Orcs are large muscular creatures, strong but not smart?” Anton asked.

“Yes,” Bertram replied. “Most are around Zac's height and build, but not as smart. Some can be friendly but most would rather just take what they want. I never had much dealings with them. If we make it through this fight, I'll have another look through the books for information.”
That effectively ended the conversation. They all started organizing the weapons and shields for the soldiers but Anton's mind was far away.

There's always a new problem and a new threat. And I haven't even asked about the demons the gods talked about. If we have this much trouble against these small creatures, how will we even hope to stand up against something like a demon? If kingdoms and armies magic could not beat them, we will need something extra, something from my world. Our ways of fighting wars; guns, bombs, tanks and industry.

I just have no idea how any of them really work.

“Bertram?”

He looked to Anton.

“Can I have some sheets of paper and something to draw with. I have some things to get out of my head.”

---[]---

Verona walked with a slight gait to her step. The strength was slowly returning to her but she was still incredibly tired. Sam was helping her walk, which was attracting quite a few odd looks. She led them both to the new bathhouse.

It looked just like what Zac and Jonathan had described. Using large planks of wood, arranged vertically to form a wall, they had made an enclosure near the well. There were virtually no gaps between the wood but there were several women guards standing outside.

In front of them were two other women, holding some extra clothes in their arms. These were the friends Sam had mentioned. One was quite tall and had black hair while the other was shorter with dark blonde hair. Verona had seen them around before but could not remember their names.

The female guards around the bathhouse nodded to Sam and saluted to Verona. She swore she could see some fear in their eyes. Evidently they had heard what she was capable of, not that she had any thoughts of turning them against people that had done her any wrong.

They opened the door;revealing a dozen large buckets, several stools, a small pile of cloths, and a small table. The floor was made from large planks of flat wood, enough to keep the dirt from getting on them. A few torches had been placed in the center illuminating the whole bath as the sun continued to dim.

“So...” Verona turned to Sam and her friends.

They had closed the door and were already undressing themselves. She felt her face heating up, realizing they would all be naked together. Only a few people had seen her naked, let alone her marks. She had no idea how these people would react.

“What's wrong Verona?” one of Sam’s friends asked, the one with the short black hair and a caring face.

“Um, I...” Verona stammered, barely able to put her worries into words.

“Are you nervous about getting naked?” the other woman asked. She had long dark blonde hair and a mischievous face.

“It's alright.” she said as she came up to Verona.

As she reached for Verona's shirt, Verona pulled back on reflex, the woman recoiling her hand as well.

“I'm sorry.” the blond woman said. The mischievous look in her face disappeared, now looking quite sorry.

“I told you not to do that.” Sam said as she slapped the blond woman on the but. “Sorry about that Verona. I think I got carried away by inviting them here without getting them really ready.”

“I was just a little shocked that we would be bathing together.”

Sam and the other women looked at each-other, their eyes full of confusion.

“Well, don't worry. It'll just be us and no-one's going to be looking in.” Sam said as she continued undressing.

With a sigh, Verona started undressing as well. It was only then that she realized she was still wearing the armor. To take it off properly it required another person, that person usually being Anton. She probably could have managed by herself but she was still tired.

“Um, Sam?”

“Yes?” Sam answered sweetly.

“Can you help me with the armor. I usually have Anton help me.”

“No problem.”

Verona turned around. She was a little shocked to see the three completely naked. Sam's friends offered to help but was told to hang back. Sam had probably been told by Jeff and the soldiers what she was capable of.

The armor came off like a great weight had been lifted from her. Now she just wore her shirt and pants. Sam offered to help, but Verona told her that she could do it herself.

With them off, she felt how much she needed to clean herself. Dried blood fell off in chunks from her shirt as she lifted it over her head. She sighed and placed them on the table along with the other clothes.

“Do we just use the cloths and water?” she asked, turning to Sam when her question went unanswered.

The three's jaws were hanging off their faces as she turned. She realized the marks were mainly on her back, running down to her legs and her arms. For a moment she thought it was that, before the black haired one pointed at her chest.

“Are those real?” she asked with exasperation.

She looked down at her breasts then at the others. Theirs were much smaller than hers, Sam’s was the biggest amongst them and they were about half her size.

“Holy shit.” Sam said as she slowly walked closer. “What did you do?”

“Huh?”

“To get them that size?” the blond asked, “Did Anton use his magic? Can he do the same for me?”

“Um. No.” Verona said defiantly, there was a new feeling growing in the back of her mind and it was not from embarrassment from being naked. She covered them with her arms. “They've been this way for a while.”

“And what about those marks?” the blonde asked.

She was pointing to the blood red marks that covered her back and coiled around her limbs.

“They're....they're difficult to explain.” Verona answered as best she could. She herself had no idea what purpose the marks beyond the tear-drop in her back actually did.

“Okay, stop gawking you two.” Sam said as brought them back to reality.

Sam grabbed some clothes, throwing two to her friends and whispering something in their ears. They nodded and brought a stool infront of one of the buckets, quickly starting to clean themselves while chatting merrily about nothing in particular. She returned to Verona carrying a stool and cloth for both of them.

She set the stools infront of the bucket and motioned for Verona to sit next to her. The moment she sat down, she felt a tremendous relief. With the weight no longer on her legs she wanted to fall asleep there and then.

Sam dipped her cloth in the water and started to clean herself, Verona following. There was an awkward silence between the two.

“Actually Verona, I wanted to ask you something. And when we are relatively alone.”

Verona felt her heart quicken in response.

“Those marks...” she looked around for the other two listening, “Did he do that to you?”

“What?” Verona exclaimed in surprise.

Sam leaned in closer.

“Did he...carve that into you?” she asked in a whisper.

Visions of Anton trying to carve the marks into her flashed through her mind. They were sicking, but she found most of her revulsion directed at Sam for suggesting such a thing.

“No!” She stood up angrily and threw her cloth as Sam's face. Anger surged through her mind. “He would never do something like that to me. I got these marks and powers through something I don't properly understand, and now I can stand next to him as an equal. And I will not let you say something so terrible like that about him again!”

Her fury started to subside. She realized she was standing, hand digging into Sam's shoulder and her fist raised to strike her. Her body surged with magic, she had lit the fire without realizing. Her body pulsed red in tune with her rapid fury driven heart.

She let go of her shoulder and sat back down, turning off the fire. Sam's friends were stunned into silence as they held each-other out of panic.

“I...I'm sorry. I should go.” Verona said as she tried to stand.

Her hand was gently grabbed by Sam, bringing her to a stop. She looked down to see a smile on Sam's face.

“It's okay Verona. I would have done the same if you had said that Jeff beat me up every night.”

Verona slowly sat back down on the stool.

“I just wanted to make sure. So, I take that as the answer to my next question.” Sam said as she dampened Verona's cloth and handed it to her.

“What was that?” Verona asked, taking her time to clean the dried blood off her face.

“Why you went with them to do such a dangerous thing. You could have died there.”

Verona stopped, looking down at the bucket of water.

“It never really felt that dangerous. There was a time near the end that I thought it might be all over, but I didn't panic. I just did what I could.”

Sam smiled and hugged Verona. It felt a little strange having someone else naked touching her, especially one that she had just tried to hurt.

“So, what actually happened in there?” the black haired friend asked. Verona could hear both of them dragging their stools as they placed them the other side of Verona and sat down.

“Everyone that went there haven't said much. They've got this tired and distant look in there eyes.” the blond continued, “Every time someone asks them, they just say there wasn't any good to be seen there.”

“Do you really want to know?” Verona asked, looking between them. They all looked at her with a determined enthusiasm on their faces.

Verona took a deep breath and recounted what happened in the mountain.

Afterwards, the three sat completely still. It had started when she had described what actually happened with the captive women, becoming truly frozen when she told them it was Anton that put them out of the misery.

“Shit.” Sam said, grabbing Verona's hand. “I'm really sorry that I even thought of something like that.”

“No wonder they all looked a little odd.”

“Yeah, I would be like that as well.”

Sam's friends looked strangely at each-other.

“Well, that explains why he looked a little distant.” Sam said as she dampened her cloth again.

“Who?” Verona asked.

Sam raised both eyebrows. “Who do you think? Anton. He looked quite odd after that. Surely you saw it. You're together with him all the time, right?”

He did seem very quiet on way back.

“What do you mean together?”

The three stopped again.

“Well, you know. You are a couple, aren't you?” The blonde started moving her hips back and forth along wit her arms.

Verona knew what that meant. She felt her face and body start to heat up from embarrassment.

“No. We're not like that.” Verona hung her head low to try and hide her face but she knew it would not work. Every night during the storm she had awoken curled up inside Anton's embrace, so she knew what he felt like.

“So, he's single then.” The black haired woman said, bringing her hand onto her chin. “I'm not seeing anyone at the moment...could you introduce us?”

The niggling feeling came back, much stronger than before.

Verona looked at her, feeling quite angry. She was moments away from lighting the fire subconsciously, but she realized that may have been what she was trying to point out.

The woman recoiled, throwing up her hands and laughing awkwardly.

“Okay, Okay. I was just joking.”

Verona sighed and started to wash herself again.

Sam dragged her stool behind Verona and started to wash her back.

“I know exactly what's going through that head of yours.” Verona turned her head backwards. “I was like that, we all have at one time or another. All these thoughts and feelings swirling through your head. You know what I'm talking about.”

Verona did not argue and waited for Sam to continue.

“If Anton's right this could be our last night. You don't want something to happen without knowing if he feels the same way about you.”

She turned around to look at Sam, her face looked incredibly sly.

“It's not hard to see how you look at him, even if he doesn't see it yet.”

“And...and how would I do that?”

Verona tried to steady her voice, but she could not.

Sam looked at the others, all looking at Verona with wide smiles.

“First, we get you cleaned up properly. Then, we're going to talk about that.”

Verona felt some trepidation but she knew there was no harm in at least listening. She continued to clean herself, Sam helping, and wondered what they would be discussing.

---[]---

Anton was currently in his room, trying his best to start drawing out the weapons of his world. While he did not know the specifics of a rifle he did know roughly what was needed; a barrel, some way of loading and unloading the bullet, and some way of setting off the bullet. He also had the rough design of the bullet as well.

I'll definitely need Jonathan and everyone else to help me get this in some semblance of actually working. But how could I explain this? They would have never seen anything like this. I may just have to tell them that I recovered all my memories after the battle. I wonder how they will take it?

It had gone dark for some time. He was glad that nobody had come to get him. Hopefully the Yellow Goblins were still getting their act together.

The tiredness that he had before had mostly disappeared. After eating a light meal and doing some light stretches, it was like he had gotten a second wind and his mental strength returned.

However, he did not want to overdo it in-case they did attack soon.

As he put down the wrapped piece of charcoal he was using to write with, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” he asked.

“It's me. Can I come in?”

It was Verona. Though why she asked before entering was a little confusing.

“Yeah.” Anton said back, “I'm just...drawing a few things.”

The door opened and Verona slowly walked in, carrying her armor underneath both of her arms. She walked over and placed them over her side of the room before leaning over Anton's shoulder.

“What are you drawing?” she asked.

“Just a few ideas for after tomorrow. After we've beaten the Yellow Goblins, there are quite a few things we'll need to talk about.”

He turned to face her, realizing her face was mere centimeters from his.

Seeing her this close almost took his breath away. Ever since he had arrived, she had always had some level of dirt on her. Now she was completely clean, and beautiful.

Her short silver hair glowed against the warm light of the candles, crystal blue eyes piercing his own and her soft lips incredibly close to his own. He knew how soft and delicate they could be. Some times he had awoken in the middle of the night and found Verona nestled in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, cutely moaning something as she dreamt. He had chosen not to say anything, but it did make sleep a little difficult.

He coughed, turning his attention back to his drawings. She lent in closer, resting her arm and weight on his shoulder.

“Those look really strange. What are they?”

“They're...another time.” Anton said as he lent back into his chair. “How was your bath? Was is relaxing?”

“Not really. Feels nice to be clean though.”

He turned to look at her, noticing a redness to her face.

“Actually,” Verona said as she stood up, “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Okay.”

“Can you please sit on the bed?”

Anton did as he was asked. He sat on the bed and Verona, after taking several deep breaths, walked up to him. Her hands were shaking and she could not look him in the eye. He had never seen her like this.

She clasped her hands infront of her chest and took another deep breath.

“I want to ask you something, but I don't want you to laugh or make fun of me.”

“I would never make fun of you.” Anton replied as sincerely as he could.

“Okay. What do think of me as a woman?”

Anton felt his heart skip a beat.

Is this a confession? I know I said that I'll go where this takes me, but I didn't expect something like this so soon.

Verona kept her eyes glued to the floor, too nervous to look him in the eye.

“I think that you're a strong, beautiful and wild woman that I trust my life with.”

She jumped slightly but kept her face down.

“In that case,” she was stammering and almost panicking but Anton wanted her to say the words so it would be of her own will, “will...will you be a couple with me?”

Her face and her ears had turned bright red, as she stood motionless and waited for his reply.

“If your okay with being with me, I would love to.”

The moment he said that Verona's eyes shot up at him. She squealed in happiness as she threw herself at him. Her hands landed on his shoulders, her weight and velocity sending him sprawling onto his back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and remained still. He was quickly aware of how soft she was as her breasts and body pushed into his and her legs rested on his. He brought his arms around her waist and held them there.

“Oh god, that was the hardest thing I've ever done. In never thought I would be so embarrassed and nervous.” Verona raised herself by bringing her elbows up and resting them on her chest and cupping her head in her hands. “They said this part would be easier-”

“They?” Anton asked.

Her face grimaced slightly before turning to a smile.

“They...Sam and her friends. They sort of got it out of me and told me that I should get my feelings out. Especially if we don't make it through tomorrow.”

Anton took one of his hands and rested it on her head, she removed her hands and rested her head on his chest.

“We will win tomorrow, Ver.”

She ran her fingers on his chest before looking him in the eye.

“You're not sure, are you?”

Anton remained quiet while continuing to look into her eyes.

“I could feel it through your heart. Right here.” she tapped on his chest.

“I honestly don't know.” Anton replied, “But I won't just give in.”

She squirmed in his embrace before her face changed to a frown. As she moved her leg, she felt something between his legs.

“Um...Anton?” she asked, bringing her hand to his groin and looking at him with a sly expression.

“Sorry. It kind of has a mind of it's own.”

Verona brought her hand back and sat upright, straddling his lower abdomen. She brought him up as well.

“I...sort of know about this. Sam and the others told me about it, but I really don't know too much about how to take care of your...problem.”

She looked a little nervous but mainly excited.

Please don't put it that way.

Anton was starting to feel how pent up he was. It had been quite a few months living alone and single back on Earth, so he was more than willing.

To be fair, I haven't exactly been able to 'take care' of it since I've been here.

Before he could reply she brought her hands down and took off her shirt.

Her body was quite lean, except for two parts, everywhere else had virtually no fat. Underneath her skin he could see the seductive lines of her growing muscles.

She gently grabbed his hands and brought them onto her stomach. Her muscles quivered under his touch, but she seemed hesitant to move them up further. As he slowly moved them upwards he kept an eye on her face in case she wanted to stop. Her mouth was slightly agape as she breathed a little quicker and harder, the redness quickly growing. Eventually, he made his way to her breasts.

He was amazed by their size and shape. They were at least an E cup in size and not a single blemish or mark upon them. There was not even a hint of sag as they hung off her like tear-drops from her chest. Her nipples and areolae were equally huge, the light pink nubs begging to be pinched.

He brought his hands up and started to rub and massage them, as gently and passionately as he could. With the lightest force his fingers sunk in, enveloping them in her soft flesh. He had never known them to be so soft.

A seductive moan escaped her lips as she threw her head back. She brought her own hands onto his, gripping over his and forced them deeper. He started to move his hands, twisting and stimulating her nipples so they became hard as rock.

As he started to tease them lightly with his fingers her whole body started to heat up, her breath becoming more ragged.

“That feels so good. You can do more, Anton.”

That brought Anton to a stop, Verona noticing as well and looking confused at him. He too was becoming more hot with every action he took.

“What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

Anton shook his head. He used what was left of his mental control to hold off, the control that was stopping him from pushing her down and tearing off her clothes.

“Absolutely not. But, if you want to go all the way with this...?”

She nodded vigorously, tightening her grip on his hands.

“I want you to tell me if I do something you don't like. Okay?”

She answered him with a kiss. Her tongue darted through her lips and into his mouth, stunning Anton for a second before he pulled her in closer.

His mental restraints were broken.

They wrestled for a moment before Anton started to stroke her into submission, but she never gave in. She became limp and fell into his chest, keeping their mouths connected.

Bringing a hand free, he twisted them and brought them so they lay next to each-other on the bed.

He had no idea how much energy and stamina she still had in her, their tussle continuing well into the night.

-------------

Hello,

Hope you liked this chapter.

Chapter before the big fight, so there's that. Didn't really want to write the end scene in detail, you can just use your imagination, plus I don't think i would be able to write it well.

The remaining 3 chapters have been written and edited, so I'll be uploading them one a day.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 018 - Vol 1

Chapter 018:

Anton awoke unusually early today, the first rays of sunlight waking him from the most pleasant sleep he had in a while. His whole body felt light. Even his mind felt quite clear, more than it had been in some considerable time.

He tried to move but there was a tremendous weight on his right arm and chest.

Verona's disheveled head poked out of the fur covers and rested on his shoulder, her right hand resting on the center of his chest. Her right leg was over his own and slowly moved back and forth. His right hand was gently cupping a soft butt cheek while her large breasts were pushing into his side.

Through his skin he could tell that they were both completely naked, her warm and soft skin felt pleasant against his own.

That was quite a night, wasn't it?

Despite the exertion of mana and strength she used at the mountain, she still had considerable amount of energy to burn off before she finally submitted.

While he did not think of himself as some sort of sex god, as some of his friend on Earth described themselves, he was still fairly confident that he knew what he was doing.

Seeing her calm sleeping face, compared to the red, panting and lust-filled face, brought back memories of last night. Knowing that he had brought her to several powerful orgasms on their first night together, watching her shudder uncontrollably and swear repeatedly in a barely audible whisper, had made him feel powerful.

Not to be outdone, Verona had a similar effect on Anton. If he was completely honest, he did not expect her to very good for her first time. He was wrong. While she did not have any experience, she made up for with it in energy and enthusiasm, bringing Anton to the brink more times than he expected.

The thought of teaching her some things made him feel a little excited.

Verona murmured something and began rubbing her head into his arm. Her whole body moved as she slowly woke. She turned on her back and stretched her arms out, nearly hitting Anton in the face. They fell softly onto the pillows as she turned to look at him.

“Mmm. Good morning Anton.” She pulled herself up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “That was...an interesting night.”

She took her leg off Anton, he could feel her stretch it them out through the covers.

“Ugh, my crotch feels really sore.”

Anton was about to say something when she placed her finger on his lips.

“I take it back though, it was an amazing night. No wonder people do this as often as they can.”

They both laughed as she curled back into his arm. She brought her right hand onto his chest and sought out his left hand. As they entwined, he pulled her in closer.

“It felt great for me to Ver.”

Her smile widened to its usual ridiculous grin. Knowing that she had made him feel good brought her no small amount of happiness.

“Looks like we still haven't been attacked yet.” he said, “They would have gotten us, right?”

Verona chuckled as she rapped her fingers on his chest.

“We were making a bit of noise last night.”

Anton sighed. He knew that there were other people in this building. If they were that loud, and as it seemed this would be a regular occurrence, they would need to get a spare house for themselves.

He did not look forward to seeing Bertram and Sybil's faces when he saw them next.

They lay in silence for minutes, simply enjoying each-others company. Eventually, Anton broke the pleasant silence.

“Actually Ver, there is something I want to talk with you about.”

Moving her head so it would be more comfortable, she said nothing as she stared at his face.

“It's kind of related to what we just did. You know what happens if we do that enough?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I'll have a child, if we do that when it's...the right time.”

“So, you know about that.”

“Yeah.” Verona patted her hand on his chest. “Happens about once every twenty to thirty days. I'll admit...Sam also asked about that. Mine was a few days before you arrived, so we still have some time before that.”

Anton took a deep breath.

“I bring it up because, and this is going to sound shitty, but...I don't want kids just yet.”

Verona frowned a little.

“This is because of what you see every night, isn't it.”

He was about to answer when she cut him off.

“I understand, you don't need to explain. You could have done it a little more delicately.”

Anton smiled awkwardly.

“I really didn't know to say it that way. But there's something else.”

Verona raised herself up onto her elbows, moving so that her chin lay on his chest and she could look at him.

“What now?”

“I probably should have told you, or someone this, but...I haven't lost my memory.”

She moved so that her whole naked body rested on-top his, her soft yet firm build pushing into his.

Anton tried very hard to focus on what he had to say instead of the naked woman infront of him.

“From the first day I was here, I've known everything I did in my old world.”

Verona nodded and smiled.

“I knew that something was different about you. You use odd words and talk about things that none of us have any idea about.”

She freed a hand and pinched his nose hard.

“You should have just said that in the beginning. At the very least, me.”

Anton nodded in agreement.

“I just thought it would be safer for me. Someone that knows nothing could be a lot less threatening than someone who's spouting what you could only call crazy. I don't think anyone would have believed me.”

Verona opened her mouth, but shut it and rested her head back on his chest.

“I suppose. So, let's start again. You already know quite a bit about me, so why don't you start from the beginning.”

She clasped both hands and moved them underneath her head, she wasn't about to let it go.

Anton took a deep breath and began.

---[]---

Anton had given her a brief overview of his life, glossing over the bad and embarrassing things. Verona had listened without saying anything, lying completely still on his chest. Some times he had to check that she was still listening as she stayed so quiet and motionless.

When he got to his 'death' and then his resurrection to this world, her interest spiked. Hearing that he had been contacted by three gods made her quite jealous. She pouted cutely as she only had one power, not that it was anything to be coughed at.

“And that brings us up to now basically. After getting thrown out of their dimension...or world if you will, I woke up in a barn when the Yellow Goblins were attacking. Then I used my magic for the first and second time, fell unconscious and woke up in this bed. I think you were already stalking me by the end of that day.”

She laughed and buried her face underneath the cover.

“I told you before it wasn't stalking!”

He pulled himself up, bringing Verona with him.

“Then what was it?”

“...closely following you?”

“That's stalking.”

She smiled and rapped her fingers on his chest.

“That's...crazy. How have you not lost your mind?” she looked genuinely concerned.

“I don't know. Perhaps that there's nothing really back there that I miss. Except a shower, and even being away from the tech is doing me some good.”

Verona raised an eyebrow, not understanding what he meant by tech.

“I'll explain what tech is later.”

She smiled and looked out the window.

“I would like to see your world. Even if for just for a moment. It sounds quite interesting. Do you think we would have met?”

“I think we would. There's no way I could have missed you.”

They both laughed, Verona playfully kicking her legs into the air underneath the covers.

“It's probably time to get up, isn't it?”

“Yeah. Where are our clothes anyway?”

She groaned as she threw off the covers.

Every piece of clothing had been thrown around the room. In the throes of their passion, it had been a very low priority as to where they landed.

They both slipped out of the bed and picked up their clothes, some awkward laughs as they bumped into each-other.

“Hey, do we have any spare time, to...you know?”

Verona pointed her head in the direction of the bed.

Anton smiled as he pulled on his pants. “While that sounds like an enticing idea, we need to be completely alert for this.”

She pouted a little as she continued to get dressed.

“Later tonight then?” Verona asked.

“Absolutely.”

Anton put his shirt on and brought her in for a kiss.

Keeping hope for the future would make them both work much harder.

As he tussled her hair, she walked over and leant over the chair and looked at his drawings.

“So, these are things from your world, right?” she asked, looking back at him for confirmation.

“Yeah.” he picked up the sheets of paper. “These, if we can get them to work properly, would probably make us one the most powerful groups in the world.”

“Really? How?” her exasperation and shock was clear on her face. “Is it some sort of magic? No, it can't be. You said there's no such thing as magic on your world. So, these are metal things like that 'bus' you were in when you died?”

“Sort of.” Anton said, proud of her reasoning. “It'll make anyone who uses it very strong. It's what I hope to use to defeat the demons.”

She looked over the images, frowning as she could not understand what they were.

“Later, explain to me what these things are and what they do. I'm starving, so where did-.”

Tremendous clanging of metal, coming from the north, stopped her. They both ran to the window, seeing armed villagers running past towards the plaza.

“Looks like our fun time is over for now Ver.”

She grabbed her new spear, jumped over the bed and ran to the door.

“Let's grab some food on the way out. I can't fight properly if I'm hungry.”

“Hold up, your armor.”

Verona skidded to a halt, quickly running back to her side. She waved Anton over to help, the armor quickly assembled.

“Just one last thing.” She pulled him down for a deep kiss, her face reddening in response.

“A little luck goes a long way.” Anton said as he tussled her hair.

He knew they would need everything they could get.

---[]---

Outside, it was a scene of pure chaos. People ran left and right, while everyone with weapons and armor ran towards the north.

“Are they here?” Verona asked with her mouth full of bread.

She had grabbed as much food as she could in her free hand, most of eat was bread but quite a bit of it was meat. Anton had some as well, though Verona seemed to want to take his first.

“Anton! Verona! There you are.” Jeff pushed his way through the crowd, with several armed villagers behind him. They wore the new weapons, all looking quite proud of their new gear. In total there were sixty of these new weapons, each handed to a willing and happy villager. The metal was not strong enough to break steel in two but it would cause some serious damage.

Eight shields had been recovered as well, handed to the biggest and strongest villagers. They would bear the brunt of the assault.

“What's happening?” Anton asked.

“A scout just returned, an army of the Yellow Goblins is starting to move. They're already at the fourth ridge.”

“Right. We'll head to the wall and get ready.” Anton told him.

Jeff nodded. “Someone find Avery and send him to the gate. We'll meet him there.”

The armed villagers nodded and separated into the crowd. Sam found her way through, calling to Jeff. As she approached the she started waving madly towards Verona who was hesitant to return the wave.

“Hey, you both look a lot livelier.” she said as she hugged Jeff, keeping an arm around his waist. “So...have you done it yet?”

Being asked so directly caused his heart to skip a beat as he felt his face heat up. Out of his peripheries, he could see Verona starting to turn red as she looked awkwardly at Anton.

Jeff looked confused, between Anton and Sam.

“Wait, I thought you two were already having sex.” Jeff looked to Sam who shook her head. “Oh, a few days ago Dad came to your door and heard moaning and other noises, so we left both of you alone. So I thought...”

That would explain why they weren't mad at me for being late to the council meetings.

“No dear,” Sam hugged Jeff, “I thought they were as well. I got it out of Verona that they weren't and gave her a little push.”

She scanned them both up and down. “Though, it seems that it worked wonders on both of you. Anton looks completely refreshed, and Verona's basically glowing. It was that good, huh?”

Verona whimpered as her face turned scarlet. Hearing such things being openly spoken about was too much for her. She turned her face into Anton's hip and covered her ears with his hand.

“Come on Sam, be nice to her.” Anton tried to comfort Verona as best he could. “We need to get moving anyway.”

Sam reluctantly gave up her line of inquiry, though she had a look on her face like she would not give up on it. She kissed Jeff on the cheek.

“I'll help lead the defense with the rest of the villagers. You boys and girls stay safe, okay?” She looked straight at Anton. “You've got someone to look after now.”

Anton smiled as she walked through the chaotic central plaza.

All three started to walk towards the northern wall. Jeff slowed down and walked along his left side while Verona was on his right.

Jeff leaned in after checking that Verona could not hear.

“So...you two weren't together?” Anton saw a very sly smile on his face.

“No. Did you all think we were?”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, after this is over, All of us; You, me, Verona, Sam, Jonathan, Zac and Avery. All of us should get together and have a serious drinking session. Zac has a lot more of those barrels of alcohol than he lets on. Has Verona drunk before?”

Anton shrugged. He had no idea how she would handle her drink.

“I've actually had some before.” Verona chipped in as she leaned forward. “I didn't feel too good.”

“We won't be getting staggering drunk.”

Jeff looked a little disappointed.

“You guys can. We won't be. We have other things we would like to do tonight as well.”

They both laughed as Verona turned red again. She punched him hard in the side, he pulled her in close and she started to laugh as well.

Despite their laughing, the fear and anticipation was palpable in the air. When they arrived at the gate nearly every villager soldier had arrived and were helping with the final pieces of the wall.

Wood was being used to raise the height in the hope it would help.

Other villagers were using their new weapons to sharpen sticks of wood. They looked like they were crude javelins.

“Jeff?” Anton asked, “Are they making Javelins?”

“Yeah. That way they can fight them at range without bows. Hearing what Verona did in the caves got me thinking.”

“It wasn't fun there.” Anton remembered the faces of the women, Verona held his hand as she could tell what he was thinking about.

“Anyway, got quite a few. Probably a hundred or so here. We'll keep doing it until we can see them coming over the hill.”

Jeff's attention was brought to the south. Anton saw a villager approaching carrying a large cloth bag, just like the one he had taken to the mountain. He stopped when he reached them.

“Chief Bertram told me to bring you these. Said you would need them.”

He gave the bag to Anton and headed off to a part of the wall. Inside were a dozen Karak fruit.

“Remind me to thank your dad later.”

Jeff looked inside and nodded.

“I think you'll be needing that.”

He brought them to the side of the gate and onto a raised platform. These had been extended along the entire wall, as far as Anton could see, so they could fight the Yellow Goblins more effectively.

Anton and Jeff looked northward, though Verona was slightly too short. She took a short run at the wall and jumped, her feet digging into the cracks and using her hands to grip onto the top.

“How many?” Anton asked, fearing the answer.

“If the scout was right, and I fear she is, around six to seven thousand.” Jeff replied flatly.

Anton felt his heart drop, Verona literally dropped off the wall.

“How?” she asked, “We should have killed more than that!”

“There must have just been so many that it didn't matter how many we killed. Or, there were parts of the cave that did not get smoked out.” Anton took a deep breath. “Either way, this is what we have to deal with.”

Verona kicked at the wooden platform.

“Jeff, we'll get our preparations ready. How about you see to the rest of the soldiers.”

Jeff nodded, turning around and waving to Avery. He had thirty archers with him, all looking quite pleased. They probably did not know how many were approaching.

As Jeff ran off, his attention turned back to Verona. She would need his blood.

He held out his hand, Verona nodding in understanding. She used her new spear to form a small cut, drew up the blood and put it into her vials, stopping when two were full.

They looked towards the mountain. The smoke had almost completely disappeared, only wisps rising into the morning sunlight. They both waited in silence, waiting for the yellow mass to appear.

---[]---

Half an hour later, they arrived. A great yellow tide flowed over the ridge and onto the still scorched plains. They walked in a slow and calculated fashion. Anton could feel their hatred, even from such distance.

He tried his best but could not properly count them all, guessing there were about seven to eight thousand.

“Um. Anton?” Verona asked, she had found a box to stand on. “How can we possibly fight that many.”

He smiled. “Those flame pillars I used before. I've been practicing getting better control over my mana, and I use a bit less now. So I should be able to use quite a few. Also got a few more tricks to try out.”

Verona seemed a little more relieved as she turned back to watch the goblins approach. The other villagers were watching the north as well, he expected more fear from them but they stood almost resolute.

Perhaps they had decided that they would go out with some dignity. If the next part goes well, that may not be necessary.

Anton stepped forward and leant against the wall.

When I used the flame pillar, the mana was like a large ring that felt like fire. It was so large that it nearly drained it all out of me. I also don't know how the 'tethering' of mana works, though I think it can be done with the rings. What would happen if I had a dozen rings all linked together, or the same but with lightning? I'll give both a go. Though my range is probably a bit over a hundred meters, well before their archer range.

With a tentative plan in his mind, he waited for them to reach the distance where he could use his magic.

Out the side of his eye he saw Jeff running towards him.

“Well,” Jeff said as he stopped next to him, “What's the plan?”

Anton nodded. “It depends how they attack. If it's one big clump, I'll use my magic just like last time. If it's waves, we might be in trouble.”

The goblins continued their march, getting closer and closer. They stopped at four hundred meters away, far enough to prevent Anton from using his magic.

Even from this distance he could see the goblins at the front were virtually naked. They wore nothing apart from their loincloths, armed with wooden clubs and spears. There would be easily six thousand of those.

“Those ones at the front will be used as a meat-shield, absorbing everything we can throw at them while keeping their stronger soldiers unharmed.”

As they looked deeper into the horde, they could see the grey and silvery shine of iron and steel armor through the hordes. About a thousand wore some sort of metal armor. It did not look like they were completely covered, some just having a helmet, or a chest piece or arm-guards. Everywhere else was covered by something that looked like leather.

Right at the back he could see something green. It was a little larger than the others but Anton had no doubt as to what it was.

“And you see that one in green at the back? That's their boss. Their commander. If we can take him out the others may break or at least become disorganized.”

Verona smiled.

“Unfortunately,” Anton continued, “He's wearing that green armor, Bosciycium, so most of our weapons won't do much. If someone comes against it make sure that they get someone that can take it down, you or myself. It's flesh can still burn and your blood could get into the gaps.”

Jeff nodded, grabbing a few nearby villagers and telling them to pass on the message. They ran away at great speed.

Nothing happened on either side as the minutes dragged out. He kept his eyes on either side of the army, waiting for them to spread out. But they did not. While they fanned out a little, they kept mostly together.

Are they trying to prove a point? That they can just overwhelm us? Or are you not capable of more complex plans?

“Verona, time to get ready.”

She nodded as the blood red light enveloped her marks and eyes.

A tremendous cry rang out through the air, the leader goblin raising itself above the others. It swung its weapon, a mace, around and around, screeching louder each time. The other goblins cried out as well and ran. The unarmored goblins ran first, followed by the armored goblins walking slowly behind.

So, meat-shield it is. I half expected something a bit better. They most not really care for their lesser comrades.

“Archers!” Jeff yelled as loudly as he could, “Fire at will! Everyone else get ready. Anton, we need you to take out as many as you can, we'll do our part.”

Jeff backed off and ran towards the east. Anton took a glance that way, noticing there were fewer villagers there.

Anton closed his eyes and held out his hands, focusing his control.

Forming the rings without the gods help was a little difficult but he managed to create five that he tethered, just like with the mana balls. One ring was in the center and the other four were around it, each connected to each-other by a large thread of mana.

Just like before, he imagined the flaming pillars, not knowing what other types he could do with this form relating to fire.

The tethering made the bombs' explosion so much larger. What will these do?

He opened his eyes, still keeping the mana under control. The goblins were quick runners, they had almost reached the marker lines. They had just started to spread out, Anton wanted them not to go any further.

With a tremendous push, he threw the tethered mana rings into the right half of the approaching horde. He did not understand what he had to do next, so he released his control. Nearly half his mana had disappeared in one burst taking his breath away. Verona moved to support him as he nearly stumbled.

She leant him against the wall, watching for the magic. Nothing happened. The quiver of bows being released filled the air as a volley of arrows flew forth.

“Where-” Verona managed to say before stopping and grabbing his hand.

The entire ground on the right side glowed brighter and brighter. The goblins on the right and those behind them stopped and looked towards the ground.

Flames burst out of the ground, incinerating a thousand goblins in the blinding light. But the flames did not stop. They continued to grow upwards and outwards, quickly becoming a pillar fifty meters wide and over a hundred tall.

The heat was unbelievable. Even with the wall in between them he felt the heat on his face and hands. Goblins either side blackened and died. Halfway along the line they still suffered, halting their charge as they ran into each-other to escape the heat. He had no idea how many just died, but it would be probably be in the thousands.

“Well, that was impressive.” Verona said. “Still quite a few-”

She was cut off again as the ground glowed so bright they had to cover their eyes just to see. The ground rumbled and quaked as the light vanished.

Four rings burned their way into the scorched grass even as the central flame pillar continued to roar. They were the same relative distance away from the central pillar as the rings of mana had been. Flames burst from these, higher than the first and out like water bursting out from under pressure.

“Get down!” Anton yelled, quickly traveling down the line as villagers threw themselves to the safety of the wall.

The heat was unbelievable, the air drifting through the wall turned hot in under a second. Flames shot through the sky above them.

Christ, I should have tried with a little less power in it. It should have done the trick though.

The flames started to die down, Anton raising himself to look.

Where the four rings once were, now there were four equally large craters. Their blackened and smoothed surface still sizzled and smoked with the smouldering remains of the Yellow Goblins. The heat had been enough to melt the dirt and sand into glass. Rocks glowed a dull red while the grass for over a hundred meters was rendered black from the heat

Only a third of the first wave of the unarmored Yellow Goblins were still alive and some of those had severe burns. Those few that were unharmed were frozen in fear. They looked to each-other and backwards, towards their boss.

The armored soldiers were doing it equally bad, the entire front row had been horribly burned, only those with shield had been spared while the rest lay dead on the scorched grass.

The goblin commander appeared to be swaying, probably not able to understand what had just happened. He may not have even believed the survivors when they came back burned. Now, he must have been truly regretting his choice.

“That was fucking amazing!” Verona said as she looked over as well, kissing him on the cheek. “There's probably less than half remaining.”

“Let's change that.” Anton said as he raised his hands again.

“You can't be serious.” She said concerned, “You must have used nearly all your mana for that.”

“About half actually.”

Verona's mouth nearly fell off in surprise.

“And I also used something I call 'tethering'.”

“You've got to teach me how to do that!”

He tussled her hair.

“I don't know how your magic works, but I'll give it a shot later.”

Verona smiled and nodded, turning her attention north.

Anton held out his hands, this time forming a single ring.

Time to give the lightning a go.

Stratos had not given him too much help, but he had a thought of what it could do. This time he formed the image of lightning raining down from the sky. He fired the ring out, pointing it downwards, hovering well above the remnants of the first wave of goblins.
They were still in a state of panic and refused to move forward, even as their leader started screaming at them. Anton released control.

Just like before, nothing happened for a few seconds. Verona glanced at him but Anton kept looking outwards. He was curious as to what would happen.

Above their heads lightning crackled and flashed in a circle, about the same size as the fire rings and as high as the flame pillars had reached.

The goblins looked up, confused at the sound and light coming from above them. Within the flying ring tiny blueish-purple lights grew, dozens of them. They were hypnotized by the lights, like deer caught in headlights.

The lights pulsed larger then collapsed to a point. A bolt erupted and arced wildly towards the ground, striking a stunned goblin in the face. Its head and chest exploded, showering its comrades with its blood.

Tens of bolts flew down, striking their victims. Sounds of exploding bodies resounded in the air followed by cheers from the villagers.

Those that survived the first barrage looked up and ran as they saw more lights within the circle. The bolts chased the survivors, some missing now as they ran back to the others, but stopped when they ran further than forty five degrees away from the center of the ring. The bolts continued to fire but could not hit. Anton swore he saw relief on their deformed faces but it was to be short lived.

Now, there were a little over a thousand unarmored Yellow Goblins remaining, and most of those looked tired or injured.

Anton leant against the wall to recover his breath, watching and waiting.

The lightning ring flickered out of existence, the only evidence of its existence were the exploded and charred corpses that lay underneath it.

The commander strode through a parting crowd to the front and stopped. There was something eerie about it, the way that Anton felt that it was looking straight at him.

It raised its right hand, the eerie feeling becoming more and more intense. A white glow started to form around its hands, condensing into two small balls.

“How can that use magic?” Verona asked. Anton was equally stunned, he had no idea if monsters could use magic, but it would explain why the Thumpers had some magic resistant flesh.

Words from the first scouting mission came back.

“' Goblin species can be controlled and form true settlements if they are intimidated by a more superior being, anything that can inspire fear'”...A fellow Goblin with magic would certainly terrify me. Guess we've figured out how they've been coordinated then.

The commander pulled his arm back then threw the white balls, straight towards them. Anton grabbed Verona, who was already moving away, and ran away from the point of impact. Away from the gate.

They hit the gate a few seconds after being thrown, striking the wooden supports and hinges, blowing them to pieces. The Obsidian Tower stone was so heavy that the gate tore apart the wood holding it together.

The gate groaned and broke in two, one half landing inside and one outside. More importantly, it cleared the way for the Yellow Goblins to pour through.

Why didn't you do that at the start?

Anton stopped, letting Verona down, and looked over the wall. He saw why. The commander hunched over, quickly carried back into the safety of their ranks.

“Bastard!” Anton heard someone yell. It was Jeff, running towards him while keeping his head down. “All that work, gone.”

“He can't use it often by the looks of things.” Anton explained. “Get ready for another attack.”

Jeff nodded and ran back to his position. “Everyone! Get ready! Get your Javelins and be ready to throw them. They'll be attacking soon!”

All along the wall villagers pulled out the makeshift Javelins and rested them on the wall, ready to strike.

The goblins had not waited, having already broken into a run. They were already almost at the one hundred meter markers, those which were not destroyed by the flame pillars. The goblins ran well away around the craters, like they could burst into flames again.

“You okay Anton?” Verona asked.

“Yeah. I've used almost all my mana. Now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to step in.”

She grinned, the marks glowing brighter. This was the chance for her vengeance and they both knew it. He grabbed a Karak fruit and started to eat it.

“If they make it through the gate in numbers, it's all over. I want you to head to the side of the gate and use your magic to attack everything that tries to get through, even over the top. Just don't expose yourself, they still probably have some archers.”

She nodded, bringing up her blood and forming spears. With a final quick kiss, she moved the edge of the gate, keeping the stone between her and the goblins.

Anton cleared his throat and yelled. “Everyone with a full shield, to the north gate. Now!”

Commotion came from all around, villagers wielding the new shields ran to the gate and formed a line. The shields were almost their full height. He heard the order carried down along the wall, singling out Jeff's voice amongst the crowd.

They planted the shields base onto the ground, between the two separated pieces of gate, and crouched behind to protect their heads.

Avery appeared with five other archers and a dozen spear soldiers, all wearing the new armor.

“Hold this position.” He yelled in his calm and cold voice.

Anton took out another Karak fruit and took a large bite, some mana quickly returning to him. He took his position at the wall near the gate and formed six small lightning bombs. these took very little mana and he did not want to use up what little he had left on grandiose magic like before.

As the goblins made it to the hundred meter mark, the arrows flew forth again. The armored goblins crouched low, letting the unarmored goblins take the blows. As they died, they were crushed into the scorched earth, some being picked up by the armored goblins and used them as a shield. He could see that some were still alive as they were picked up, kicking and thrashing as their bodies quickly became pincushions.

They must have been the lowest class of the goblins to have their lives thrown away so easily.

Their charge was desperate, quickly coming to the fifty meter mark. At this distance they could use their archers. Several tried to stop and bring out their bows, but the momentum of the horde crashed into and pushed them forward.

“Javelins! Now!” he heard Jeff yell.

In the few seconds it took the villagers to get their weapons the goblins had traveled even further, now about forty meters away.

The first javelins started to fly from the wall once the goblins reached twenty meters, their size making them easy to see compared to an arrow. While they were not accurate, the goblins were incredibly bunched together. Nearly all of them found some sort of target, some even hitting and killing the armored goblins. Some pierced their heads, chests and arms, all going down without a cry, quickly crushed underneath the feet of the other goblins.

Anton threw the lightning bombs as best he could, summoning another as each struck the head of their target. This brought him considerable attention, the goblins abandoning their assault on the other parts of the wall and brought the rough one thousand four hundred surviving goblins straight towards the gate. They had watched as their fellows, hated or not, were burned and shocked to death and could see the man responsible.

Throwing everything, including themselves, into the attack, they collided with the shield bearers. they and the villagers groaned under the weight and force of the attack.

The goblins tried to force their hands and weapons through the shields and spears, slathering and screaming from their mouths in an uncontrollable rage.

When the villagers refused to budge, the goblins started to climb on-top one another and over the shields.

Blood spears pierced their heads and throats, their blood joining and multiplying the spears.

Verona practically glowed as she hung back, directing the spears with her hand. With a flick of her wrist, the spears dove through the goblins near the gate. Seeing her brutal magic, using the life of their comrades to kill them, caused fear to ripple through their army.

Anton continued to fling the lightning bombs as he saw the Commander raise himself above the crowd again. He screeched something, but it was not just the usual scream. With his mace he pointed either side of the gate, screeching the same thing for each side.

Is he telling them to just go over the wall? Most people are coming to reinforce the gate area.

His thoughts were correct, to a degree. Two thirds gave up their attack on the gate, half of that attacking the either side of the wall.

With so few defenders away from the gate, those few were quickly forced back and were being overwhelmed. The villagers started to fall down, desperately trying to hold off the killing blow.

Shit, what now? I can't move Verona, this whole section could collapse. They're terrified of her as well. We'll just have to try and hold them off.

“Everyone, Spread out back along the wall.” Anton yelled. Some villagers responded but there were too few of them.

Anton devoured another Karak fruit as he summoned a dozen lightning bombs, flinging and replacing them as the armored goblins started to surge over the wall. As one fell dead, another two leapt over. He had no idea how the other side was faring, he could only hope that his presence would draw their attention.

There's no end to this. They must run out eventually.

To the west of the gate, he saw a dozen villagers giving up their positions and retreating into the village. The goblins turned towards him and charged, their weapons raised high. He threw lightning bombs at them but his attention was diverted for a crucial second.

A goblin climbed over the wall and jumped at him. He saw it out the corner of his eye, summoned another lightning bomb and flung it. More started spilling over, while there were still more coming over the breach further down. Over a dozen were charging at him from both sides. He was being forced back as the goblins drew closer.

I can't make the lightning bombs quick enough and I don't have enough mana. The fire-bombs might just make them run around until they die. I need help.

Just as he was about to call for Verona's help a cheer rang rang throughout the air, coming from behind him. The goblins stopped for a second and glanced up. They twitched forward before they lunged at him again.

“Stop them!” some from behind him yelled. Pitch-fork and hammer wielding villagers ran past him, crashing into and striking the goblins.

He knew these villagers. They were the ones that stayed behind. Over a hundred villagers ran around him. Young, sick and old, wielded farming and forging weapons as best they could, smashed into the goblins. The goblins were not prepared for such a thing and were pushed back to the wall.

“Come on, get it together.” Arms supported Anton and handed him a Karak fruit. It was Sam and Jonathan wielding a spear and forging hammer respectively.

“Why are you here?” he asked between bites on the fruit.

“We are not going to let those we care about get killed so we can live.” Jonathan said, resting the hammer of his shoulder.

“Better that we meet the gods together.” Sam said, hugging him lightly.

“Wait, where's Zac, Bertram and Sybil?”

Jonathan pointed to the other side of the gate. The unmistakable silhouette of Zac, brandishing a large hammer, burst through the goblins sending them flying either side. Behind him were several other villagers, including Bertram, Sybil and over a dozen elderly villagers. They did not wield much, but when a goblin leapt over the wall at them they struck it with a cooking pot. The goblin was stunned momentarily, allowing the other villagers to attack.

The reinforcements had turned the tide in their favor, but Anton knew it would not last. They were not soldiers and the actual soldiers were tired and wounded.

“How many are left?” Jonathan asked.

Anton had no idea. There should be less than a thousand, but they could still over-run them. There was their commander to worry about as well.

“Their aren't too many, but their commander can use magic.” Anton summoned a lightning bomb and threw it at another goblin climbing over the wall. “We need to kill him...brutality. It may make them break.”

They fought there way to the wall, Sam and Jonathan stopping the goblins from climbing over.

He looked over and saw the commander, he was almost fifty meters away.

My lightning bombs cannot go that far, but my lightning bolts and fireballs can. Time to end this.

He summoned a lightning bolt and fired it at the commander. It struck the armor, the lightning arcing away and hitting some standing nearby. They twitched and died, but left the commander alive.

How? Wait, there was that metal that was meant to amplify or stop magic... Gliyrhil, I think. Is he wearing it underneath?

It laughed, pointing it's mace to Anton. Anton did not miss the expressions of the goblins around the commander. They were afraid, some looked like they wanted to run, but he kept them in line.

If their leader could be killed...Fine, let's try the fireball.

The fireball sailed through the air, the commander having time to react as the fireball moved considerably slower. He picked up an armored goblin infront of him and used it to absorb the hit.

The goblins screamed in pain as the flames consumed his body, the commander staying still. He held the still burning goblin up as a shield.

I don't have enough in me to do another flame pillar without passing out, maybe even killing myself. If it fails to kill it...then I'm out and we could all die.

“Well, that sucks.” Sam said, thumping her hand on the wall. Another goblin crawled over the top, quickly smashed back down by a blow to the head from Jonathan's hammer.

“We need to kill him.” Jonathan said angrily. He looked down to Avery and the archers, Anton following. They had run out of arrows and were using knifes and swords to fight them back, already looking quite injured and tired.

Anton saw Verona at the side, still fighting and seemingly unharmed. He knew how her magic seemed to terrify the goblins. There was not much choice.

“Verona!?”

“Yes!?” she yelled back, thrusting her spear over the shields at a goblin clambering over.

“How are you feeling? Truthfully.” he asked as he ran to her.

“Okay. I haven't used that much magic.”

Anton handed her a Karak fruit, which she heartily devoured.

“We need to finish this, and quickly. I hate to ask this of you...but I need you to kill their commander.”

From their position, they could see the green armor of the commander, only thirty odd meters between them. He still held the burned goblin as a shield.

“I'll follow and use as much mana as I can to clear a path.”

She looked out through the crowd and nodded.

“I would use another flame pillar if I could without fainting-” Anton was cut off by Verona.

“I can do this.” she said as she grabbed another Karak fruit from Anton, who ate another himself. “Even I can see that lots of people are going to die if I don't.”

Anton kissed her on her forehead, turning his attention to the soldiers holding the gate. There were nearly three dozen soldiers there, not including the reinforcements or shield bearers.

“Avery!”

He stabbed a goblin, trying to climb over the shields, in the face and looked to Anton.

“Kind of busy here!” he yelled, the usual calmness in his voice gone.

“Get ready to push forward. We'll support Verona and kill their commander.” Anton summoned ten lightning bombs, throwing them at the goblins assaulting the shields.

Those behind recoiled, allowing the shield-bearers and those behind to charge forward.

“Verona. Good luck.”

She nodded, ran up the back of a surprised shield bearer and leapt into the fray.

---[]---

Verona landed with a thud on top of the goblins corpses, their blood squishing through her feet.

The fire within her raged as she brought up five large blood spears. There was far more blood around her that she could control, but it would have drained her mana incredibly quickly.

The Karak fruit had recovered quite a bit of her mana, though she had lied to Anton as to how much mana she actually used. Keeping everything as minimal as she could, she felt like she had two thirds of her mana left and was moderately tired. She knew that Anton would not have let her go out in her current state.

He's done so much...I can't let him die while I can still do something.

Her height was something that she had always hated about herself, and today was no different. The others had to bend over to fight properly, for her they were almost the right height to strike. However, with all their weapons swinging about it was difficult to see their commander properly.

She knew there was only a few moments before they would surge forward attack again, and she knew at her current mastery of magic she could not kill them all before being killed herself. Searching desperately she found something.

Directly infront of her, about seventy feet away, some smoke rose into the air.

I heard Anton using his fire magic. That's where the fireball that Anton threw hit. That's where their commander is.

As she threw the spears forward, skewering the goblins infront, lightning bombs and wooden spears flew past her head. With a glance back she saw Anton and the others behind the shields charging behind her.

Ripping the spears out of the dead goblins she spun them around and around her body, forming a continuous circle of death.

She ran forward, her new spear held in both hands. Every step was soft with the corpses of the slain and eviscerated goblins. Against her hardened blood their armor was weak and full of openings. When a blood spear did collide with a piece of armor that did not break the tip shattered, Verona took control of the fragments and forced them into its flesh. Everything was becoming more natural.

A bloody path flowed behind her, as the other villagers followed her. Lightning bombs flew forwards, a dozen flying at once, killing the last goblins infront of the commander.

Now, up close, he looked tough. A steel mace in one hand, a burnt corpse in the other as a shield, his green armor damaged and scarred, just like the deformed face underneath its helmet. There were very few gaps to it's skin, the only one straight through it's visor.

You're the one that killed everyone I loved, just so you could raise an army?

“You're going to die here, runt!” she yelled. The villagers had followed close but they could not help, they were having enough trouble keeping the goblins off her back. Bangs and crackles rang through the air letting her know that Anton and the others was still fighting.

She threw the blood spears straight at the commander, ignoring everything else around her, and ran at him. The commander moved it's charred shield infront, collecting four of the five spears. The fifth spear smashed into its mace wielding arm, the blood shattering into tiny fragments.

It laughed, in its screeching language, but stopped when it saw Verona still running towards him. Dropping the corpse shield, it raised its mace with both hands to strike, failing to notice the blood fragments floating around its head.

Gotcha'

A slight burst of mana and the shards flew straight through the gaps in its helmet. The goblin commander howled in pain, clutching at its bleeding face and eyes. Other goblins nearby backed away, seeing their leader injured.

However as she tried to push them further in, her control felt weak and could not apply much force.

My magic might not be enough to kill you, but I still have my spear!

Not completely blinded, it swung its mace down as soon as it could reach Verona. Digging her foot into the bloody ground and crouching low, she swung her spear from the ground up, towards the mace.

She excepted it to deflect the hit, but it was far better.

The crystal tip dug into the metal shaft and carved a chunk of metal free, but she was still in its path. The strength of the swing carried the weakened mace down, the spikes of the mace scarping through her leather wrist armor and into her skin. She barely felt the pain of her wounded arm, focusing her new rage and aggression at the commander.

He was stunned. As he tried to raise the weapon it broke in two, only a stump of steel left in its hand.

She twisted and spun around, taking a step forward and bringing the spear tip near its feet. With all her strength, she cut up along its center. The green metal was tough, but not very thick. It cut through its groin through to its upper chest, the spear coming free and into the air.

It screamed and howled, dropping the remains of the mace and clutching at its groin. Blood gushed out as the commander staggered and tried to make some distance.

The goblins surrounding were panicking, already some at the back were starting to flee while the rest no longer had the same energy .

So this is what Anton was talking about.

The blood pouring out of its wound was under her control the moment it left its armor. She split the puddle into two, forming two solid spikes and shot them at the commander's waist, where the broken chest plate met its legs.

Again, the blood crystals shot through and lodged themselves into the flesh, the control becoming tenuous as best the deeper it drove. She could still feel them but could not control it well once it came close to its armor. The lack of control did not extend that far, allowing her to continue to feed new blood into the crystal spikes and force them deeper.

It howled in pain but could not wrench itself free.

With the commander immobilized she thrust her spear at its head. A look of utter terror overcame its mutilated and bloody face, but she felt nothing of the sort. The tip carved through the face plate and into its face.

Its body went limp and tried to fall backwards but the crystals and her spear kept it upright. The sense of relief and satisfaction was still lacking.

I still can't move the blood...it must be something that it's wearing....Have they run away yet?

The loud bang of a lightning bomb near her side told her it was still going. While the goblins near her were terrified and starting to run, most seemed unaware that their commander was dead.

Okay, Think! I need to let the goblins see what I've done...

She retracted her spear and spun around, bringing the edge onto it's neck and severing it clean off. As she lept up and caught it, she impaled it on her spear and held it high above her as she climbed on top of the commander.

“OIIII!!! EVERYONE!!”

The entire battlefield went silent, not even Anton threw his lightning bombs. Everyone one and everything look at Verona.

Now she was nervous, but she carried on regardless.

Raising the spear above her head, she yelled out: “This! This is your leader! Your God!”

The goblins spoke rapidly amongst themselves, while the villagers remained still and continued to keep their .

“Run!!” She summoned what was left of her strength, a little less than a third left, and brought up a dozen spears. Most of the goblins recoiled, seeing the same thing that killed their commander being created over and over. Many started to run and screamed, causing a chain reaction amongst the others.

Taking a gamble, she doubled the number of spears. It was difficult to control, but she threw them straight at the closest goblins.

As she brought them back screams echoed throughout the horde. It was short and high pitched, more like a squeak.

They ran like a demon was coming for them. In a sense, one was. As they ran past, she threw spears at them randomly, to remind them what was going to happen.

While she had been fighting, Anton and the others had killed many goblins, many more than she had thought possible.

She guessed that there were four hundred or so remaining.

“Four hundred...out of eight thousand.” she muttered, her body rapidly loosing its strength. “We did alright.”

She waited until the goblins had almost made it to the first ridge before stepping off the commanders body and letting her powers completely go. There was nothing left within her.

Blood liquefied and splashed around and onto her, not that she cared. The commanders body, no longer supported, fell backwards and landed with a deep and heavy thud onto the bloody ground.

Something in the back of her mind, a knot, released.

It was dead, the leader of the thing that she hated most, the thing that took her family away.

As she fell on her knees, her eyes filled with tears as she began to cry, She was not sure whether it was relief or something else, but she did not want to stop. The spear fell away to the side as her body went limp.

“Verona!” Anton yelled as he ran towards her. He, like the other villagers, was covered in cuts and blood. The others looked a little worse but not by much.

He skidded along the wet ground, knelt down and roughly grabbed her head, checking her for wounds. When he found none that were serious he pulled her closed and hugged her tight.

“That was the bravest thing I've ever seen someone do.” he said as he stroked her hair. “I'm sorry I even asked you to do that. I thought you were going to die.”

She turned and looked at his face. He was tired, just like she knew how she looked.

As she opened her mouth she knew that she could not explain how she felt. Instead, she used her remaining strength to wrap her arms around his neck. He smiled, holding her tight in return.

With a strange but pleasant warmth filling her heart, inside she made a promise.

I will protect this with all my breath and my life. My new life. My new family.

-----------------

Hello again,

The Yellow Goblins have been beaten back, with shock and awe tactics and a few bluffs. I didn't want a fight that lasted several chapters, I hope i did alright.

With the Yellow Goblins, I wanted to show that these aren't mindless creatures, they know when they are in trouble and will try and run if they're in trouble. I think i conveyed that.

Two more Chapters two go for this arc. Next one needs a bit of work in the planning stages, so it might be a little slow to get going.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Chapter 019 - Vol 1

Chapter 019:

Anton and Verona remained in their embrace for some time, Anton felt it was almost a minute before they broke. All the time, Verona was quietly sobbing tears of relief and joy into his chest.

When she finally stopped she leant back. While her power had receded, her eyes were still red from crying and her nose was starting to run.

She wiped away her tears with what little of her clothing was not drenched in blood.

“Did we really win?” she asked, her arms feeling weak in his own. “I just want to make sure this isn't a dream.”

Anton looked around. Everywhere was covered in blood and bodies. Those goblins that had fled, only about four hundred of the original eight thousand, had almost disappeared over the first ridge. Most were injured yet they were able to hobble away at great speed.

None had tried to return to attack again. They had been so terrified by Verona, especially when she summoned a dozen spears at once, that self preservation took hold.

When he saw her take that gamble his heart skipped a few beats. If it had failed things could have gone considerably worse.

“Yeah. For now, we've won.” He picked her up and got her to stand. This time he was the one to help her walk.

The other villagers wore a bewildered look, like they could still not believe that they were alive.

“We...We did it.” A shield bearer yelled out. He, like everyone else was battered but not broken.

Cheers erupted throughout the wall. Villagers jumped up as they laughed and cried in joy.

Even Avery looked quite bewildered.

“Everyone....return to the village.” Anton said. They slowly hobbled back inside the village. There would be time later to salvage any valuables.

The villagers inside looked a little better, though not by much.

“Anton!” he heard Jeff yell as he ran towards him. Behind him was Sam, Jonathan, Zac, Bertram and Sybil, all a little banged up but still in one piece.

“That was awful....but we won!” Jeff said, quickly followed by a cheer amongst the villagers.

“It was.” Anton replied. “By the way Jonathan, where are your kids? Are they still in one of the barns?”

Jonathan nodded, his blacksmith body covered in blood.

“At the moment they are still in the barn with the few fighters that decided to stay behind. I had better go and check on them.” He quickly ran off the center.

Anton led them to the side, putting a relieved Verona onto a box so she could sit. Everyone could see how tired she was.

“How many do we loose?” Anton asked. During the fight he had seen some villagers go down, he had no idea how many were dead. He took out his fifth Karak fruit and bit into it. While he started to feel sick, it was not to the violently ill state like before. Now he probably had a quarter of his mana left.

Jeff looked a little sad and regretful. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.

“We have had a few deaths, not as many as we expected though. About seventy are dead, with another hundred or so really close. I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to heal as many as you can.”

“Okay,” Anton replied, “I don't think I'll be able to completely fix them up, just to stop them from dying. Just give me a moment.”

Anton sat next to Verona, who moved over, and took several deep breaths.

“This may be an odd question, but what will you do with the dead?” Anton asked, trying to focus on something other than his exhaustion, “Are they buried or cremated?”

“They're burned.” Zac replied. He had many deep cuts but they refused to bleed any more. “We'll use quite a bit of wood from our stores...but it's the best way to send them off to the gods.”

Everyone here uses the word 'Gods' as part of some sort swear. I wonder how they will match up with my current ones.

“After that's done,” Jeff began, “We'll all need some of that booze. Zac, you might want to bring some out for dinner.”

Zac was about to speak when Anton raised his hand to cut him off.

“You may want to hold that off for now.” The others looked confused but waited for him to continue. “There are still four hundred or so Yellow Goblins still alive, plus who knows how many others there are. I hate to say it, but we need to stay alert and not relax just yet. Tomorrow, we should attack them again, when all of us have some energy back.”

The others wanted it to be over, but knew it was nor yet.

“That means that anyone that is still relatively okay needs to be on scouting for now. Everyone else needs to go to sleep right away. Oh, and someone needs to recover their commanders body and armor. I want to see what they're made of, both of them.”

Jeff sighed. “I'll get that ready. I need you to start healing people before it's too late.”

“While you do that, we'll start the clean-up.” Bertram said, taking everyone except Jeff with him.

He stood up, Verona following, and started moving to each wounded villager.

Each healing took quite a bit out of him, just enough to stem the blood and allow the healing salves prepared from their trip south to the Thumper fields to do their work. By the time he finished the thirtieth person his vision was starting to blur and his balance was almost starting to go.

Despite being dead tired herself, Verona ran and got Anton another Karak fruit. This time he did not vomit but he was certain the next one would.

By the time he had finished he had almost passed out.

Fifteen had died before he could get to them. There was some anger from friends and family but Jeff managed to calm them down, reminding them Anton was just a human and had limits like the rest of them and despite that he saved many lives. Most apologized, admitting their feelings of hopelessness as they watched them die, though Anton was so tired that he barely heard them.

The last thing he remembered was walking with Verona into the Main hall and slumping onto the bed, still in his clothes. Verona moved the chair infront of the door, acting as a crude door stop, and crawled onto the bed with him. She curled up in his arm and within seconds both were fast asleep.

---[]---

When Anton finally awoke, the light outside told him it was very early in the morning, even before dawn.

Every part of him felt sore, to such a level that he had never felt before. As he stretched, he felt every bone and tendon creak and groan. However it felt like his entire mana reserve had recovered.

So, every day I can basically flatten a small army...How rare must mages be?

Again, no one had got them during the night so he hoped that everything was alright. By the end of his healing he was so tired that he was not sure whether or not they would all make it. Though, with the mana connection, he could feel when the life of another would snuff out, and could not remember one that he let go.

In the far distance he could hear noises. It sounded like a heavy cart rolling through the village, trying its best to remain quiet.

While he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew that he had to finish the fight with the Yellow Goblins. He started to move to get up, but found Verona curled up with her head lying on his chest.

Verona, still in her bloody armor, was woken by his movement. She stretched her body out, moaning slightly as she rubbed her arms.

“Morning Anton,” she rolled completely onto his body. “Are you feeling rested? I know I am.”

All of the fatigue on her face from the other day was gone, replaced by a beaming smile.

You certainly recover quickly.

“Yeah.” he replied as he straightened up, bringing her with him. “I'm still pretty tired, but I can use my magic just like yesterday. I just wonder how the others are faring.”

She nodded, jumping off the bed and helping Anton up.

“Oh, we've got a problem.” she said, pointing at the bed.

Anton looked back and saw her problem. As they were both dead tired, they had not cared about the state they were in. The fur covers was covered in dried blood where they lay during the night.

“I think we'll worry about that latter.” he said to her, grabbing her spear that was leaning against the wall.

I really don't want to have to explain that one.

They walked as silently as they could through the Main Hall hoping not to wake Bertram and Sybil.

As they exited they saw the source of the noise. It was a cart, loaded with Yellow Goblins corpses. Otherwise the village plaza was completely abandoned with not a villager in sight.

The villagers waved to Anton as they continued to the south. He presumed that they would be unloading the bodies at the bone pit.

One of the villagers peeled off, walking up to Anton.

“Hey, Jeff's waiting at the northern gate. Looks like he as a few hundred people ready for that attack you were talking about.”

Anton gave his thanks and continued walking.

Jeff and almost two hundred armed villagers greeted him at the still destroyed northern gate. These all wore the best armor, the green Bosciycium armor had very few scratches. As he walked past the last few buildings he saw villagers sleeping outside. It made him feel a little guilty about sleeping in his bed, but he put the distraction to one side.

“Early morning to you Anton.” Jeff said, walking quickly up to him.

“Do you even need to sleep?” Anton genuinely asked.

“Yes.” Jeff replied, without a hint of sarcasm. “We've all been sleeping out here, so we could respond if something went wrong.”

“I feel a little bad now, actually going to sleep in a proper bed.”

“Don't worry about it.” Jeff looked towards the awaiting soldiers, “Most of them have had someone important saved by you. We're all eager to see this thing through.”

“You want to come this time?” Anton asked.

“I wanted to go the last time.”

“And Sam's okay with this?”

“Sam's right here!” she called out from the crowd, pushing her way through. “By the gods Verona, we just cleaned you.”

Verona looked at her clothes and armor. She sighed lightly at the sight.

“I'm going to need another bath. By the way, do you know how to get blood out of clothes? I went to bed like this.”

Sam feigned a gasp but still smiled. “After this, we'll have to have another.”

Verona chuckled nervously as she shook her head. “Not for a while I think. I have other plans.”

She held onto Anton's arm, her face turning a light shade of red. Sam chuckled and turned to back to the villagers.

“Where's the commanders body?” Anton asked.

“It's been moved to one of the barns, you want to see it yet?”

Anton shook his head. “No, let's just finish this first.”

The villagers seemed quite relieved as they started to move through the burnt field. Anton, Verona and Sam stayed at the back while Jeff led from the front.

Everything still smelled of old burnt grass and flesh, the craters were a reminder of the power that Anton held within him. The villagers laughed as they walked past, Anton heard they were almost felt sorry for the Yellow Goblins that were caught in the flames and lightning. Almost.

After reaching the top of the first crest, Jeff held his hand out, bringing everyone to a halt. Anton and the two women walked with him to the front.

In-front of them, between them and the next crest, lay several dead Yellow Goblins, almost twenty. They looked like they were the worst wounded from the flames and lightning; their limbs and face charred and useless. However, it was not just the fact that they had been apparently been abandoned, it was what else was there.

A pack of grey wolves, ten in number, with their distinctive glowing green eyes, were feasting upon the dead. Several gathered around a single goblin and grabbed its limbs, one each. They pulled, snarling and twisting at the limbs, before they ripped free. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Any idea?” Sam asked.

Jeff coughed, “I'm guessing that these are the ones too injured to move and were left behind.”

He looked towards Anton, who let him continue.

“But, the wolves here are just feasting on their corpses. These could even be the remnants of the pack that you killed at the lake.”

Everything has to eat I suppose.

“It's just a question of where the rest of the goblins are.” Anton added.

Verona bumped Anton in the side then pointed to the vials hanging off her waist. They were full of the remains of old blood, so old and decayed that it was useless.

“That many Grey Wolves are a little too much for you without your power,” Verona started to pout but Anton continued regardless, “But, for know you'll just have to use mine.”

Anton held out his hand, allowing Verona to make a small cut. Sam, and several of the others gasped and covered their mouths. Most looked confused, while others looked concerned at what was happening.

After bringing up two vials full of his blood she stopped, Anton healing his wounds.

“So that's where she gets it.” Sam said, still a little concern on her face.

Verona smiled, bringing the blood out of the small holes and forming spears. She ran fast and low, straight at the wolves.

They noticed her, probably from the sound she made running across the grass, and clustered together. It was a very bad decision on their part. She flung both spears as soon as she could, impaling and killing three wolves.

The others yelped in surprise and panic before running away with their tails between their legs. Anton expected Verona to give chase, but she remained still. Blood slowly poured out of their bodies and floated into the air, completely filling all six vials she carried with her.

It would be better if we could build the vials into her armor, or at least make them a lot stronger and perhaps larger. Right now they are just clay pots held on by some string.

Verona ran back, looking quite proud of herself. She said nothing, nor asked for anything as she moved back next to Anton, the blood marks' glow receded back to nothing.

“Well,” Anton said awkwardly, “Jeff, let's keep this thing moving.”

---[]---

Anton and Verona moved to the back again as they continued to advance on the mountain. Each crest the crossed revealed a new batch of dead Yellow Goblins, each about twenty or so in number, all lying at the bottom of the crests.

More packs of Grey Wolves were feasting on the corpses. They had seemingly been alerted to their presence and fled over to the next crest the moment they saw them.

As they reached the bottom of the final crest, something along the northern skyline caught his attention. With the early morning light it was hard to see, but now that an almost an hour had passed. He could see more smoke coming out of the mountain.

The other day when the Yellow Goblins attacked, the smoke had all but disappeared. Now it looked like it was burning again.

“Why is there smoke?” Verona asked, seemingly reading his thoughts. The other villagers seemed to wonder as well. “It was barely there the other day, so...it should have gone out by now.”

“That's a very, very good question.” Anton replied. “I doubt they're dumb enough to set another fire inside the mountain. I honestly don't have an idea. But, we'll soon find out.”

When Jeff, who was at the front, poked his head over the last crest he froze. He thrust his hand back, quickly waving down. He and everyone else dropped down and fanned out so they could all see while only exposing their heads.

“What have we got?” Anton asked as he crawled up to Jeff.

“Something I don't understand. It's a mess down there.” Jeff said as he glanced back at Anton, making room for him.

The villagers had the same expression as Jeff as they looked towards the mountain. Verona moved along side him and looked over.

The mountain's base was several kilometers away, open grasslands in between. At the base, near the entrances they saw after the raid, fires and smoke raged. In-front hundreds of yellow creatures ran about. But there were other colors moving either side, and it was not from wearing armor.

Other monster groups had taken advantage of the Yellow Goblins weakness. With their strength gone, other creatures were trying to take their territory.

While some of the Yellow Goblins were in armor, most wore the rag dresses or loin cloths. They were screeching and yelling but there was no order to their actions.

Packs of Grey and White Wolves attacked from the south, corralling and attacking the Yellow Goblins, forcing them away from their larger groups. Sprays of blood flew into the air as they fought amongst themselves for their food.

Grey brown creatures, smaller than the Yellow Goblins, attacked from the north western side of the mountain, hundreds if not thousands of them. They looked like Rock-Rats, perhaps trying to expand their territory or taking revenge. Not that Anton could tell. Most of the armored Yellow Goblins were fighting there.

Finally, to the east were a few hundred vaguely humanoid green creatures attacking. They wore very little but where crushing the Yellow Goblins. With the majority of the fighting Yellow Goblins fighting the Rock-Rats, there was nothing but unarmed goblins to stop them.

“Huh.” Anton said aloud. “So...we've got a four way battle between Wolves, Rock-Rats, Yellow Goblins and....what are those?” He asked pointing to the green humanoids.

“They look like they might be Orcs.” A villager to his right said.

“But they look a little small.” he said, scratching his arms, “They should look like three strong people thrown together, but they are about our size.”

“Are they young adults? Striking out on their own?” Anton asked the villager.

“I...I don't know.” he admitted. “But they should be bigger. Like they're the runts.”

Anton turned to Jeff, hoping he had some of the knowledge his father had.

“Are there any Orc settlements nearby?” he asked Jeff.

He shook his head. “I don't think so.”

Anton sighed. Knowledge was key to everything and he had so little about this world. He vowed, the next city he arrived at he would buy as much information as he could using their new-found wealth.

“What's our plan?” Verona asked, bringing her head close to his.

“Same as the quarry. We let them fight it out and take out the survivors.”

They watched the slaughter unfold infront of them. It did not take long.

The wolves, grey and white, seemed only interesting in eating. After killing quite a number of Yellow Goblins, they howled and ran off the the forest to the west. Anton was glad they did not meet them during their raid.

The Rock-Rats were not as successful. They were even weaker than the Yellow Goblins but numbers did little to help them, finally forcing them to retreat back around the mountain and fleeing to the north.

With both groups having done serious damage, it allowed the Orcs to advance. The last of the armored Yellow Goblins fell down, the green tide pouring over the yellow. Screeches of panic and terror erupted for the Yellow Goblins.

“Hah,” Jeff cried out, “They get what's comin' to 'em.”

“Speaking of which-” Anton pointed to the Yellow Goblins.

Now they were running towards them. He could see that the females were carrying something, children he presumed. The Orcs were on their heels, striking and picking off those at the back.

Within a few minutes they had almost reached the bottom of the crests, the Orcs were having some fun picking them off.

Anton stood up and summoned a dozen large fireballs, the other villagers looked confused at him.

The Yellow Goblins saw him as well, stopping in their tracks while the Orcs continued to advance. They knew what he was, what he was capable of. The few survivors would have told them.

They dropped to their knees, dropping whatever they held, even their children, onto the ground. He swore he could see the look of despair on their faces.

A minute later they were dead, the Orcs crying out and raising their weapons in triumph. They killed each adult with a single swipe from their clubs and stomped down on anything that survived. There must have been about three hundred remaining, they had taken some losses.
They stopped as soon as they saw Anton and the glowing fireballs above him. One pointed towards him.

“GRAHH!!!” It shouted towards him, quickly spreading throughout the rest.

They ran towards him, swinging their weapons to attack, still riding the high of their victory. The moment they were in range Anton threw the large fireballs. Light and heat engulfed the Orcs, emitting the same screams as the Yellow Goblins the other day.

As the light and fire burned down, very few survived. Shock and bewilderment was plastered over their faces.

Anton summoned lightning bombs and flung them once they were in range. None were able to get close, he swore that Verona looked a little disappointed.

“That was disappointingly easy.” Jeff complained as he and the other villagers stood up.

“I'm sure that you wanted to go up against three or four hundred of these Orcs with just us.” Anton replied sarcastically.

Jeff laughed.

They walked slowly forward, still wary that one of the Orcs might be alive.

Anton stopped at an Orc that was in relatively good condition, Verona stabbed her spear into its heart just to be sure. To Anton, it looked like a good average of the Orcs.

They looked just looked like green humans with more Neanderthal properties, a more prominent brow and nose. Unlike a Neanderthal, there was not a single hair on its body. Not even eyelashes. It had a decent set of muscles on its body but looked that it was starting to suffer from malnutrition.

The green skin was not entirely uniform in color, like it was painted on. He touched the skin on the face, finding it quite rough to the touch. It's ears were gnarled and deformed. They had gone through quite a bit of fighting.

He, using a knife, opened the mouth. Its teeth were oversized for its jaw. The bottom row over-layed the top, which were also too large, and pushed its jaw forward, giving it the impression that it was stupid.

The stench from its mouth was unbelievable, like the worst rotting flesh he had ever smelt. Despite that it appeared to be in a good condition.

Its hands and feet appeared to be human except for the color. They had slightly yellow and long nails, easily suited for tearing and ripping like those on the smaller and weaker Yellow Goblins.

With the knife he lifted the single piece of cloth from its groin. He was surprised, but by an absence.

There was nothing there.

It was clearly a male, at least structurally, but it was missing a key component. And it was probably not female either.

“Ugh,” Verona said, “What happened to it?”

Anton shook his head. “I honestly have no idea.”

Jeff, Sam and some of the other villagers started to crowd around. They seemed interested in what he was doing to its groin.

“It doesn't look like it had been removed,” Anton continued, “Almost like they never had them in the beginning. I guess it urinates through that, but there should be more.”

His eye was brought to a nearby dead Orc. It was missing an eye and ear, in the same way the current Orc, like it never had it in the beginning. He shuffled over and removed the cloth, seeing a similar absence.

The villagers seemed a little shocked.

Anton turned to the villager that said he knew of the Orcs.

“You said these were not as large as you expected the Orcs to be?”

He nodded, “I saw them in a book once, they were nothing like this.” His hand pointed towards its groin. “Or like that.”

“Does it say anything about their society?”

“I'm not sure. I...can't read. I only saw the pictures.”

The villager looked quite embarrassed but Anton shook his hands to calm him down.

“Well if their communities are getting very low on food, maybe through humans or over hunting their animals, it could be reasonable to get rid of those that could not contribute to the future generations. And it would be easier to get rid of those already disfigured, the outcasts. These may have been trying to make a place to live.”

Anton pointed to the whole field full of dead Orcs. Deep down, he could not help feel a little bit sorry. They, unlike the Yellow Goblins, had done nothing wrong to the village. However their individual strength would be nothing like the goblins and could lead to their deaths.

“So, what now?” Jeff asked. “We going to leave them here?”

“Yes. Everything has to eat.” He looked towards the west. The wolves had already left, but they may be back. “But now, we should at least have a quick scout through the mountain. To make sure there's no Yellow Goblins left and to see if there's any treasure left inside.”

Anton turned to Jeff. “I hate to ask you, but do you have torches?”

Jeff nodded, several villagers bringing out torches.

“Okay, we'll stay in a large group and just do a quick sweep. Then go home for some much deserved rest. Someone try and find an entrance that's not on fire.”

---[]---

They found and entrance and headed in.

Anything of value that the Yellow Goblins had brought out had already been destroyed in the fire.

As they traveled deeper the smell of smoke became stronger. Every so often, on their fifteen or so minute journey, they found a group of Yellow Goblins. Dead and contorted into horrific shapes as they had chocked to death. There were some young amongst the dead.

Nobody said anything, continuing until they reached the main chamber.

It was an awe inspiring sight. Anton had no idea how large the cavern was but it could easily hold several thousand Yellow Goblins. Judging by the state of the floor and what materials remained behind, this was their main living area.

Jeff brought everyone to a halt. Even though it was cut off from the light of the outside world, the whole area was easily illuminated. The evenly cut rock reflected the light into every nook and cranny.

“Okay. Bunch off into groups and have a look down the caves, see what's there. If there's something good, come back here.”

The villagers nodded and separated, into groups of about six. Anton and Verona, and a few other villagers stayed in the chamber.

Very quickly they returned, some carrying some gold and gems but nothing else of value. After doing a quick count it was clear that one of the groups had not returned, the one that headed to the furthest cave to the north.

“Well, we can't just leave them there.” Jeff said. “I'll-”

“No,” Anton cut him off, “We don't know how many tunnels there are. We don't want to loose you.”

“Okay. Let's go find them.”

They headed to the cave that the lost group was seen to enter. Anton grabbed a loose rock and scratched a mark on the wall. A few meters down he saw that the cave branched into three and seemingly divided again down each passageway.

“So, which way did they go?” A villager asked.

Anton knelt down, checking the rocks for any marks but could fine none.

With a sigh, he stood up. “No idea, there's no marks on the ground. Guess we will have to split up. Everyone take a rock and if you get to a split, mark an arrow to the direction you came from.”

The villagers grabbed their rocks and slowly and carefully headed down their caves. One was left for Anton and Verona. They seemed to think they would be strong enough on their own.

They moved slowly, hoping they would not slip.

A few minutes later they both heard something. Verona activated her power, drawing out a blood spear.

They entered a small cavern, not unlike the one they found the captive women in. It may have been the previous cave as there were still carpets and cushions everywhere. But, there were moving yellow creatures amongst them.

“There they are.” Verona whispered, pointing to the back of the cave. There were the six villagers, huddling in a corner and desperately trying to not make a noise.

“There must be thirty Yellow Goblins. Why are they still here?” she asked, Anton did not have an answer.

The villagers held something between them. It was red and silver, but Anton did not know what it could be.

“Something's wrong.” Anton whispered aloud, Verona turning her head up to look at him, “Why haven't they attacked. The goblins look like they can't see them properly.”

The Yellow Goblins were swaying either side, every so often raising their hands and swiping at the air. Slowly they were closing in on the villagers while they remained frozen. The villagers had seen Anton and Verona, now looking quite relieved.

“Verona, can you deal with this one?” Anton asked.

Verona nodded, bringing out six blood spears. The moment she came into view the Yellow Goblins noticed her and turned to attack. Anton saw the glow from her marks reflected across the rocks.

She killed all of the goblins with virtually no effort, barely even moving her body. Their bodies crumpled as they were were struck in the chest or head. Some she missed, though Anton thought it might have been on purpose, and used her spear to kill them. Their flesh and bones were separated with ease with the new blade.

Verona seemed to be getting a penchant for striking with swings rather than thrusts. In the future, she may want a different weapon. Although, I don't know if anything's going to be sharper than what she has right now. She seems to know how to use it well.

“Are you okay?” Verona asked, after making sure everything was dead and still.

“Yeah.” replied a villager, “We found this place and started rummaging around. After we picked this thing up, we bumped something over and all those goblins woke up. We didn't even know they were there before.”

The villagers walked forward, careful not to tread in the blood, and handed the strange object to him.

It was a red gem, about the size of both fists held together in the shape of a cube. While the small gems, that were worth only money, were a uniform red, this had fractures and lines running through it, though it still seemed to be solid. On the outside were two large silver circles of metal on opposite sides, small lines of the metal linking the two. The metal had no marks and was incredibly smooth to the touch.

“Oh, we found these books with this. Might be useful.”

The villager handed Anton several books. They did not have the same marks as the journal but they looked quite well made and might be of some potential value.

“Why didn't they attack you?” Anton asked.

“I don't know. I'm just glad they didn't.”

There's going to be a connection between that and this strange gem. There can't be any other possible explanation.

Anton frowned. “You were in plain sight. There's no way they could no see you....we can't exactly ask them. Did you find anything else of value?”

The villagers shook their heads.

Well, we got something interesting out of this.

When they made it back everyone else had gathered back in the main chamber. Everyone looked happy to be reunited.

“Good. You found them.” Jeff said at seeing them. “Now that we're all here, I can tell you we found something interesting on our little travel.”

“More interesting than this?” Anton replied, pulling out the red gem from his pocket.

“Umm...probably not, considering that. But we did find an passageway that we think leads to the other end of the mountain. Do we want to have a look?”

We don't know what's really to the north of this mountain. When we went on the raid we were more concerned with getting back alive. Finding if there are any Rock-Rat or Orc settlements to the north will be very useful.

“Sure.” Anton replied.

They all traveled down the central tunnel for some time, Anton guessed almost half an hour, before they saw light at the end of the tunnel.

As they emerged into the sunlight they saw a mountain range running along to the entire northern horizon. The mountains extended and merged with the forest to the west, while they merged with the horizon to the east. Just like the mountain they were currently in, they were tall enough to have snow on them.

Open grassland lay between them. Anton could see herds of Razor-Pigs, wild Ix and horses frolicking about. Other creatures, like giant chickens and lizards ran with them, though Anton would not try to guess what they were called. He did not have the mental strength to ask. There were probably hundreds of different species living out there that he could not see.

I wish I had a pair of binoculars or a spyglass. I can't see any settlements on the plains, but they might be living in the mountain's in the distance.

Jeff was the first to speak. “It looks like we're safe this way. I wonder where the Rock-Rats came from. And the Orcs.”

As if to answer his question, far in the distance, a small furry creature was tossed into the air by a pack of Ix.

“Ah,” Anton said aloud, pointing towards the sight, “Unfortunately, it looks like they live in the mountain range. Lots of rocks and boulders for them to build in. Still, no sight of an Orc settlement though.”

“Well,” Sam pushed her way through the villagers to the front, “Now that we've done with the sight seeing, can we go home now? We've done more than enough and I really want to get some sleep and another bath.”

All of the villagers looked towards Anton. He did not even have this planned, this was just to sate his curiosity.

“Yeah.” Anton replied. “I think that it's safe to say that the Yellow Goblins are well and truly defeated.”

Cheers rang throughout the villagers.

“Let's go home.”

---[]---

It had just passed lunch when they returned. The villagers still at Atros wanted to know what happened, they were all concerned with hearing about the Orcs trying to take the mountain, the Rock-Rat's less so.

Anton had asked Jeff to organize a special council meeting that would double as their lunch. While he had not said exactly what it was for, he had mentioned that it was to assess the nature of the weaker Orcs and determine what path Atros should take in the future.

What Anton really wanted to tell them was the truth about his past and how that would change how they thought and interacted with him. Verona had taken it well, but she always thought that he was weird, acting and saying things that no one else had even done before.

It would not be long before they would meet and Anton was feeling nervous, like it was his first date or an important job interview. Verona had noticed and was starting to look nervous herself.

“Anton, you need to calm down.” Verona said, pushing Anton to sit on the chair.

“Thanks. I'm just nervous.”

“I'm sure it'll be fine.” she walked around and hugged him from behind. “Just take a deep breath and you'll be fine.”

He turned his head to face her. “When did you become so knowledgeable about this?”

Verona chuckled nervously. “Two days ago.”

“That nervous, huh?”

She nodded. “Oh yes. It worked for me, so...”

After taking some deep breaths he found it did work, though some of his apprehension and nervousness remained. Verona gave him one last hug before they headed to the council chambers.

Jeff was standing outside, waiting for both of them. He gave a little wave and opened the door. Everyone, including Sam, Avery and Jonathan's kids, had already gathered. Anton did not really want to have to sit and wait, allowing the nerves to build up again.

“So, what's this all about?” Bertram asked. “If you wanted to know about Orcs you could just ask, and later we'll be having a grand feast in celebration.”

“Surely it can wait 'till after that?” Zac added. If Anton was completely honest it looked like he had already started drinking.

“This is something that I really need to tell you all.” Anton said as he sat down, Verona standing beside him.

“We already know about you two.” Jeff quipped. Everyone, especially Bertram and Sybil, nodded. Anton felt his face heat up a little though he could feel Verona even more embarrassed. He glanced back and confirmed it, she was trying her best to hold her embarrassment in.

“It's...it's not that. Something different.”

The mood of the room changed, they were all quite serious now.

“Okay.” Anton placed his hands onto the table. “I'm not from this world.”

---[]---

It was quite late when they finished. Anton gave effectively the information that he gave Verona, leaving out any potentially delicate and embarrassing things. They had been quite interested in hearing about his way of life; mainly the machines, the lack of magic, and the fact that every day he and the other humans were not under constant threat of being eaten. Hearing of the gods mission for him and why he was sent seemed to completely unnerve them.

They were all silent for some time.

“That,” Sybil began. “Makes a little sense.”

Bertram nodded in agreement.

“You have been saying some weird things.” Bertram added. “I think most people thought you were definitely not from around here, certainly not this country or even its neighbors. But, to think you come from a completely different dimension or world...that's something else.”

“I tried to keep it to a minimum.”

“So why not just say so from the beginning?” Jonathan asked.

“To be honest, I thought that if I started spouting those things as soon as I woke up...I don't know what you would have thought of me.”

“Probably some lunatic.” Zac answered.

“Quite.”

“So, what do you plan to do now?” Sybil asked.

“If I’m honest, follow through with the gods reason for bringing me here. I don't think they would just grab my disembodied soul across the reaches of space, and possibly time, to just plonk me her to mess around.”

Anton smiled and so did the others.

Jeff stood up, holding a mug full of the strong alcohol.

“I think I speak for everyone here, that it really doesn't matter to us if what you say is true or not, I think it is by the way, but you saved our lives and helped us to save ourselves. And for that, we are truly grateful.”

Everyone cheered and nodded in approval.

“Well, thank-you.” Anton said truthfully. He did not expect it to go so easily, though he had no idea what he really expecting them to do.

“As to what I'm going to do next, I would like a drink and a few days to rest my mind and body. After that, I want to head to Maxil with a small box of those gems and coins, start to get a few things for us.”

“Uncle Anton, are you leaving?” Jonathan's kids, Joclyn and Shawn asked, running up and holding onto his legs tightly. Anton swore he could see pangs of jealously in Jonathan's face.

“Not for a little while and not forever.” he told them, rubbing their head. They seemed to accept this and skipped back to their slightly jealous father.

“To what end?” Bertram asked.

“Information and resources. Over the next few days I hope to get a better understanding over your written language. If you could prepare a list of materials before I go, I could get some of it at this town. Mostly though, I want information. I have no idea how big this world and its lands and seas are. With those things, I want to build Atros as the city and a fortress against the evil that descends against this world.”

The others smiled, though Bertram shuffled uncomfortably.

“I'm not doubting you Anton...but where are these 'demons'?”

“...I don't know.”

--------------

Hello,

Very much a wrap up chapter. Answered the question as to what my Orcs look like, like the ones from Warcraft. Also got everyone sort of understanding what Anton's trying to do here. I didn't want to type that out again, as it would be just filling up space.

Next chapter is quite short, by comparison. I'll give hints at the next arc in that one.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 020 - Vol 1

Chapter 020:

Anton's head hurt when he woke up. It felt like a hangover but much more insidious.

Oh god that hurts. What was the last thing I remember? I had a few drinks, quite a bit to eat, then left the celebration for some fun with Verona. Then, I went to sleep. Speaking of which, I can't feel her warmth.

Forcing his mind to work he looked to his right. Where Verona had fallen asleep, there was now an empty spot.

As he was about to ask for her when he noticed that everything else was strange.

A faint blue light came in through the window, definitely not from the night sky. The table and chair floated in the air.

Well, this is definitely a dream. It just looks so much more real than usual....Unless....

Throwing the covers off he found himself to be wearing pants, something he knew he did not go to sleep with on. His shirt was on the floor which he put on.

He walked to the window and tried to look out. The light grew in intensity as he drew closer, becoming almost blinding as he reached out to touch it. It refused to budge, even with all his might.

Damn, alright lets try the door then.

The door opened with the slightest touch. The hallway looked the same. Anton tried to open them but found they were held shut by the same mysterious force.

With no other option he opened the front door. Everything outside was utterly bizarre.

The sky had disappeared, turning into the same pale blue light. The plaza and the main hall appeared to be the only things intact. Broken segments of houses floated in the air along with the furniture and other pieces of junk. Small stones and chunks of dirt floated along side them.

In the center of the plaza, which should have had tables, chairs and fire-pits from the previous night, lay a single very large and ornate wooden table. Five chairs were placed around the table and three people sat at them. It looked almost the same as the first time he met his gods. Then it clicked.

“So, it's you guys.” Anton said loudly as he approached. “How have things been going in your world?”

The three gods turned towards him. Stratos, the elderly purple sash wearing Lightning god waved him over.

“About time.” he said, Anton had missed his elderly and reassuring voice. “We were beginning to wonder how long you were going to keep us waiting.”

Anton took the empty seat next to him, “Do you even perceptive time the same way we do?”

Stratos smiled warmly, “No. No we don't. But we still do feel its flow.”

A chair to his right creaked as it was pulled out. It was Tethra, goddess of prayer. She wore the same white nun outfit as before, though this time he could see the chains she wore were on the outside of her body. They linked several times around her body, each overlap held together with a large lock. If Anton was honest, it looked like a seriously kinky bondage gear.

“Hello Tethra.” Anton said to her but got no reply.

She said nothing, walking past him and grabbing the empty chair, finally seating it next to him. She sat down and, before Anton said anything, hugged him around his shoulders. The metal was cold through his clothes though her body was warm.

He said nothing for a few seconds before sighing.

“I take it this will be a regular occurrence each time I come here?” he asked the other two gods.

“She's just happy to see you.” Esperit answered.

The goddess of fire wore something a little more appropriate this time. It was a form fitting low cut top with shorts and high heels, all in the same brilliant red as her seemingly sentient hair. He found himself watching the flaming hair wisp and flow for a bit.

“So, why is she so happy?”

Tethra brought herself closer and started nuzzling her head into his neck. He could feel chains covering her face, he wanted to remove the cloth and look but felt that it would be extremely rude and might get him killed.

“Every time you use our powers, we gain strength ourselves.” Esperit answered. “And as you used her power quite a lot, even to the point of collapsing, she gained quite a bit of power.”

“We all have.” Stratos continued. “It has been some time since we have felt such a surge of mana coming to us.”

He held his hand out, summoning a disc of lightning, just like the one Anton used.

“None of us really expected you to experiment to the level that you did.”

All three gods seemed quite happy.

“By the way,” Esperit began talking, “There are still many, many forms of our magic that you still have to find. You should try experimenting a bit more with Tethra's power. There are quite a few interesting things I've seen done with her powers over the ages.”

“Any chance of some clues?” Anton asked, hoping for something free.

Esperit and Stratos shook their heads. Stratos coughed and spoke.

“While we are free to interact with you as often as we can, the other gods are vaguely watching us even now. Especially that Elven witch. It's more like an agreement between us not to interfere too much with your affairs, otherwise everyone would and everything will descend into chaos.”

Esperit's face scrunched at the mention of the Elven goddess.

Their rivalry must go much further than I thought.

“Regardless,” Esperit continued as her face returned to normal, “They don't pay that much attention, so we can still congratulate you on certain things..I especially liked what you did to those Yellow Goblins. So many screams...”

Esperit’s face twisted into one in the throes of joy.

“Esperit....happy...long time since...” A raspy and hoarse voice spoke into his ear. Tethra started coughing violently, retracting from Anton and holding her sides.

“You can speak?” Anton asked with a little shock in his voice.

Esperit got out of her seat and rushed to her side. She held her gently until the coughs stopped. With a cloth covered hand, Tethra pointed to Esperit and then herself. Then, using both hands, drew a smile over the cloth on her face.

It did not take a genius to figure that out.

“You need not to try to speak. You're still weak.” Esperit started massaging Tethra's back.

“While we still have quite a few disciples and mages left practicing our magic, Tethra has none.” Stratos explained. “None, for many, many years. It's taken its toll.”

“I take it that the chains are not ceremonial.”

Stratos shook his head. “No. I wish they were. We found them and bound them to her...to keep her alive, even with no disciples still living. It just makes her unbelievably frail and weak.”

A smile came across his face. “The fact that she can speak, even those few words, shows how far she has came.”

How bad was their situation before I arrived. It seems everyone has troubles.

Esperit finally backed off and took her seat, after Tethra seemed to be better.

“That's part of the reason why we called you here.” Esperit explain as she placed her legs onto the table.

Despite your looks, you aren't elegant at all.

“We've been watching you,” Esperit continued, “And we like your idea to build your little village, Atros, into a bastion against the darkness and demons. But...”

She seemed to be having trouble finding the words, scratching her head and legs uncomfortably.

“We would like you to build a temple...to each of us.”

Anton said nothing and allowed her to continue.

“With that, we could grow in strength. Tethra can actually get the strength to speak again and we can start to grow our disciples once again.”

“I really don't know what you would require for a temple, but will it mean that there will be people like me that can use magic?”

Esperit shook her head, Stratos answered.

“Not to your level. But there will be those that could use one of our powers, so long as they have mana within them.”

“I can, but it won't be for a little while yet.” Anton answered, hoping it would be enough for now.
“That's fine.” Esperit said. “We can't expect you to just drop what your doing and start building all three temples.”

They all smiled, Tethra leaning onto Anton again.

An army of mages....not really the army of steel and gunpowder that I had in mind, but I suppose it's good to keep diversity. And it'll help repay the gods which have given me so much.

A few things were still on his mind.

“What about the others?” he asked. “There must have been dozens off us that you picked up. How are they doing? They're not scattered to every corner of the world, are they?”

There was movement on his shoulder, Tethra was shaking her head.

“They are...not doing that well.” Esperit said with some smugness. “Combined, all thirty five, have done less than you and have worse magic and physical control. All with near limitless wealth...It's rather enjoyable to watch the Elven bitch fail so spectacularly.”

Even Stratos started chuckling. “They're not even fighting the demons yet, currently fighting creatures weaker than the Yellow Goblins...which says a lot about them.”

Anton had mixed feelings about that. Some of the people he knew and liked them to live, a few his wished had died. The rest he had no idea about, but he still wanted them to not die.

“Well...I suppose that as least they're not dead, that's good.”

Esperit shook her hand. “Not for much longer. Soon, they'll be part of an assault on a demon hive and they are not that good. You should see them in training.”

“Can I?”

“Not really.” Esperit explained. “It would be like you were a ghost floating through their world. You would see but not be able to interact with anyone.”

“That seems like it would be good. Can you show me them?”

“Not yet. You're running out of mana...and you're not fully attuned to your mana. It could kill you.”

“Oh.” Anton replied in surprise. “Is this dream using my mana?”

All three gods sighed.

“We really don't have that much mana to spare at the moment.” Stratos explained. “So we're having to use yours. We've gone through about half so far, and yours is nothing to scoff at. This dream will end pretty soon.”

“You guys must have real trouble communicating with normal people.”

“It's basically impossible.” Esperit explained. “If we tried something like this, it would just be a few flickers of a dream, with no meaning or reasoning.”

Just like Verona's weird dream before she got her power...I should probably ask them.

“So, what's with the fifth chair?” Anton asked. “Do we have another god joining us?”

“Sort of.” Stratos answered.

“More like an intrusion.” Esperit quipped.

A sickening sound erupted infront of them. Red trails, quickly revealing themselves to be blood, carved a circle on the ground. Out of the circle a woman arose.

She wore a blood red vestment, bones of all kinds hanging off her clothes. On top of her head she wore a large wide-brimmed hat, also with bloody bones on the rim. Blood dripped from the edge of her hat in great beads but vaporized as they fell down. Her hair was brown and kept long enough to reach her shoulders. Underneath was a soft and calm face, though Anton felt that it was just a mask hiding something cruel and vile underneath.

“Now, I didn't think you would call me that.” the new person spoke with a raspy and sickening sound. It sounded similar to Tethra. But while hears was still sweet, this was full of malice and hatred.

She walked slowly to the free chair, her large boots thumping onto the ground.

Like Esperit, she placed her feet upon the table.

Is every god on some level of crazy?

The new goddess looked dismissively at each of the gods before focusing her gaze on Anton. He held her gaze, her face eventually breaking into a smile.

“So you're the brat that started this whole mess.” she said, leaning forward. “I really should jump over this table and crack you in the face.”

Anton was stunned by this, feeling Tethra tense a little as well.

Stratos sighed loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “This...delightful creature is Jira, Demi-God of blood. Don't let the title confuse you, she's just as dangerous as the rest of us.”

Jira snorted and took her boots off the table.

“Stratos is right. It's just a different name your people give us, but it really means nothing. And yes, before you ask, I am Verona's contracted god.”

Her face darkened as she lent forward.

“The reason I'm here is that I want to know. How did she do it?”

“Do what?”

Jira slammed her fists onto the table “Rip power from me!”

Anton still knew very little on how the usual way to get the glyph power. Almost on cue, Stratos answered his questions.

“Usually it takes weeks to months to get the glyph properly. You are an extreme case, in that you do not naturally exist in the world. Verona, on the other hand...”

“Yes. Two days!” Jira said angrily. “I and quite a few other gods and demi-gods had our eyes on her. She seemed to be so easy to....see. I offered her my power, and then...”

“And?”

“During one dream, I was talking to her subconscious, and mentioned you. You needing strength for your plans.”

Jira lent back and folded her arms.

“Next thing I know, there are hands reaching out of the darkness and rip right through my chest and grabbing my throat. It was angry, screaming for power. I panicked and gave in. I don't know how or what it was...but no god can killed by a mortal. And yet...I was scared. Just for a moment.”

Jira smirked a little.

“But, I decided not to press the issue with the other gods. I watched...and now I'm glad. You've turned her into quite a killer.”

Anton could not help but frown. That was not his intention, but a by-product of his actions and the situation they found themselves in.

“I have never seen that before, so I wanted to see what's so different about you.”

Jira stood up and walked slowly up to him, Tethra did not move away but got closer to him. She looked him in the eye, before checking his body. The moment she got to his right hand she stopped, her eyes going wide in surprise. Her eyes darted between the white gem and the other gods.

“Are you fucking serious? You are pretty sick.” she said, trying her best not to laugh. “That makes a bit more sense now.”

“Why, what does this thing do?”

Jira laughed, resting her hands on Stratos's head.

“That gem weakens the walls between our world and yours. Allowing us to communicate easier...which is probably why she was able to literally take power from me. She was probably going to go with me eventually, but it just made it easier.”

Anton was about to say something when a dull thud echoed throughout the air.

“I think that wraps up today.” Esperit said, looking up into the blue sky. Above, the blue light was weakening and becoming black, growing all around them.

Jira laughed again, “Good luck Anton. I'll keep an eye out for Verona, she's almost already paid for a quarter of the mana she owes me. She's a good investment. You, on the other hand, have a lot more problems than just humans and demons.”

She cackled as another blood circle grew beneath her feet, descending into the ground and disappeared.

“Good luck Anton.” Stratos said as warmly as he could, the darkness beginning to envelop his vision. “You'll need it.”

----------

Hello,

Final chapter for this arc, though the last one could technically count.

Anyway, next Arc deals with the collapsed local power balance as but mainly the first interactions with humans from a still functioning kingdom. Also, the beginnings of Anton's forced industrial revolution, powered by magic and science. Not that everyone is happy with his actions and ideas, especially in a rather rigid society.

Gave enough away, so thanks for reading. Absolutely no idea when the net one will be ready.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 021 - Preperations (V.2)

Chapter 021:

Light filled Anton's vision and mind once again. He was back in his bed, and back into reality. For a  moment he could not feel Verona's warmth. However it was just a momentary lapse in his awareness.

Verona was nestled in his arm, her mouth slightly agape as she moved slowly back in forth in her dreams. She had moved his arm to cup her breasts in her sleep, not that he minded. The rest of her body was resting lightly on his. Evidently, he had not moved or thrashed about when he had the dream with the gods.

She started to wake slowly, murmuring lightly as she ground her body against his and rubbed her eyes. With a cute yawn she reached out and reached for his face. Her hand brushed against the beard he was growing.

“Morning Anton.” she said in the lightest voice she could.

Bringing up her other hand up, she chuckled as she continued to rub his face. It was a little rough, but it was still pleasant.

“Your beard. It feels really prickly. It tickles when I kiss you.”

Anton rubbed his hand over hers.

“It is a little. We had razors back on Earth-”

“That's the name of your old world, right?”

Anton nodded.

“Yes, just no electricity here. I think everyone else just uses a knife to keep their short. Not that confident about using one of those on my throat just yet.”

“Well, I think it makes you look handsome.”

She chuckled as she brought her hands back to her chest.

“So, what's the plan for today? I'm pretty sure that everything that could kill us is gone.”

“Actually, I was going to get things organized for the trip to Maxill.”

A frown formed on her face.

“Are we actually going on that trip? I know I was going for it but I don't really want to leave.”

Anton pulled her closer.

“If we want to live, if we want to defeat anything that threatens our lives, we're going to have to be proactive. And part of that is going to Maxill and getting more people to help build Atros into something truly grand.”

The usual smile returned to her face, quickly growing to a ridiculous grin.

“Okay. So, today or tomorrow then?”

Anton moved down and kissed her.

“Hopefully. As always, you recover quickly. We've just got a few things to do before that.”

Verona rose up, letting the fur covers falling off and turned to look out the window. The sun had just risen so most people would still be waking up. They would not be much help yet.

“We've got a little time.” she said looking back to him, “Enough time to fool around again?”

Anton's response was to grab her arm, pulling her back down onto the bed before kissing her deeply. She giggled as their hands entwined again.

---[]---

By the time they were ready the sun was above the horizon, Anton guessed it would be around seven or eight o'clock.

Work, as usual, had begun. There was a certain level of energy to their actions. A few days ago they were threatened with annihilation. Now, they could focus on things other than war and survival.

While Anton would have liked to help them out, there was something rotting in a barn that required his immediate attention.

The Yellow Goblin Commander had been a uniquely terrifying enemy, one that was able to force the goblin horde together for their war against Atros. It was it's use of a white explosive magic and its probable magic nullifying armor that most intrigued Anton. He wanted to know as much as he could. He had been told constantly that knowledge was important and something like this should not be ignored.

Unfortunately, he had no idea as to which barn they had stored it in. He had no intention to search the dozen or so barns in the hope to find it. He also wanted other people with him to make sure that anything he found was seen and recorded, it would also help with the dissection of its body and in case something went wrong. This time he would not do it out in the open. He often wondered if that helped make the other council members think he was not from this world.

“So, you want to find Jeff first?” Verona asked.

With Atros now being in peace-time everyone, except Verona, was in their casual comfortable villager close. She continued to wear her armor, which also doubled as support, and held the spear over both her shoulders with her hands resting on them. It current posture did not look to be all that comfortable but she seemed fine with it.

“Yeah,” Anton replied, “Him and a few others. I have no idea how heavy this body will be nor how heavy or well attached the armor is. This whole thing could be a little messy,  blood and flesh wise.”

Verona nodded and smiled. She had no problem with blood, especially since she used it as her magical power.

Outside in the central plaza, Jeff, Avery and a hundred villagers were training. They were alternating running in the spot and jumping. It looked they were undergoing boot-camp in the army, their faces certainly looked like it.

The moment they saw Anton and Verona they stopped. Jeff yelled at them to keep training, much to the disgruntlement of the villagers, as he and Avery came over.

“Good morning Anton. How are you liking not having to go to sleep without worrying about being killed?” Jeff asked.

“I do, I do like it a lot.” Anton replied to Jeff's rather blunt question.

“You joining us for the morning training?” Jeff asked, “We've only just begun.”

“Actually, we need to get the trip to Maxill ready.”

Jeff and Avery frowned, knowing the two strongest people in the village would be leaving for some time.

“You're still going with that?”

“Yes. But I want to see that Yellow Goblin Commander, find out what's so special about that one. Where did you keep that thing?”

“In one of the barns to the south.” Avery replied while pointing, “Got a few guards outside to make sure nothing happens. Do you want to see it now?”

Anton nodded.

“Let's get this thing under-way.”

The villagers outside the barn in the south of Atros looked relieved to see them. While there was not any smell, the knowledge that there was such a destructive monster inside seemed to unnerve them. Just like with the flame pillar craters.

The opened they door of the barn as they approached.

“Any problems?” Jeff asked.

“None. Thankfully.” One of the villagers replied, “Kind of uncomfortable being near that headless thing.”

“That's understandable.” Anton continued, “Can you bring us a large table or crate or something? After that you can carry on with your day.”

The villagers looked appreciative, ran off to a nearby alley and returned with a large wooden crate, long enough for the Yellow Goblin Commander to be splayed across and carved apart. They moved the crate into the centre of the barn and left with a nod to Anton and Jeff.

All four entered the barn.

At the back lay the corpse of the Yellow Goblins Commander, its head separated from its body. The blood had dried around its wounds had dried, its body was still stiff with rigor.

Anton leant down and picked up the head. It felt quite heavy and cold in his hands, any semblance of life had long left it. The damage that Verona had caused to its face was grotesquely obvious now that it was so close to his face. One of its eyes had been torn apart and other was white, now blinded. It was amazing that it was still able to fight in this condition, though it may have just been swinging its mace wildly in desperation.

He placed the head onto the crate, Jeff and Avery looking a little disturbed with Anton's fascination while Verona looked on blankly.

Waving Jeff over, Anton got him to try and hold the base of the head while he removed the helmet. Verona's attack had managed to bend fragments of metal into the skull and locked them together. With some twisting and grunting the helmet was freed from the skull.

Verona leant down and inspected her work. Where there should have been a deformed nose and mouth was a giant gaping horizontal hole, the same shape as the tip of her spear.

“I can't see anything different about this one,” Verona commented as she poked at the wound, “Can you Anton?”

Anton hummed to himself.

“There might be something,” he brushed the hair of the Yellow Goblin Commander, “Most of their hair is wispy, sometimes just a few strands. This one has a full head. It might just be nothing, but it might be related. Well, someone have a knife and a hammer? I want to have a look at its brain.”

“Um, why?” Jeff asked.

“You never know.” Anton replied.

Everyone looked oddly at Anton. Verona produced her knife while Jeff produced a hammer from somewhere and handed them to him.

Using the knife he carved off the scalp of the head. He had no idea if he was doing it right but it came off in one large piece with some effort. The bone underneath looked just like those that he had seen before, there was nothing interesting to be found.

He brought the tip of the knife onto the skull and hammered it through through the skull. It was not as thick as he thought it would. That would explain why they had been able to kill them with a single strike to the head.

After making a few incisions he forced and popped a chunk of skull free. It flew into the air, straight to Avery. He caught it, dropping it the moment he realized where it came from.

The brain underneath was odd. It looked nothing like the pictures from earth or the fragments that he had seen during his fights here. Throughout the brains' pink folds were white cysts randomly scattered throughout. They were quite hard as he pushed them with the tip of the knife.

“Do we have any glass containers?” Anton asked, expecting it to be no.

“Um, no.” Jeff replied, after looking at Avery as he shook his head, “That stuff's fragile, so most of it is gone. We've got more pottery though. You want to scoop out that stuff in that brain?”

“If I could.” Anton shrugged. “I wouldn't really know what I'm doing with them but it might just be useful. Can one of you guys get some of the booze from Zac? There might be enough alcohol in there to preserve them for later.”

Avery nodded, going outside and telling another villager to go get some.

Anton turned his attention back to the commander's body.

“Let's get this on the table.”

It was surprisingly heavy but all four of them lifted it gently onto the crate.

Anton started prodding around the gaps in the armor, not the one along the middle that Verona had managed to tear apart. There were tiny clips and leather straps that kept them together. He started slicing them, the other quickly starting to help.

Within a few minutes they had freed the front of the armor from the body. Underneath was a full set of leather and cloth underlay, even covering it's feet and hands. He wanted to check the armor first.

It quickly became apparent that it was not designed for the goblins. It had somehow been twisted and formed into a shape appropriate for its body. Nevertheless, it was still very strong. He had no idea how such small and weak creatures managed to do this. Perhaps they had used a lot of leverage? He could not simply ask them.

“There's two different types of metal here.” Anton murmured to himself as he inspected the cut along the center of the chest piece.

“We've got the green metal, Bosciycium. But we've got something else, underneath the outer layer.”

He peered closer, doing his best to wipe off the dried blood. It was a very dark grey metal, covered in tiny hexagonal marks. These interlocked with each-other forming a very distinct pattern.

“Haven't seen this before. Might you be the reason why my magic did not work against him?” Anton asked aloud.

He tried to move the mana within him but found it extremely difficult, completely impossible in his hands which touched the dark grey metal. He removed his hand from the metal, his control returning.

A fireball grew in his hand which he pushed slowly towards the exposed piece of dark grey metal. It flickered and snuffed out when it reached about an inch or two from the metal.

“Can I try?” Verona asked.

“Sure.”

Anton held out his hand, Verona making a small cut and drawing up the blood. She formed a small blood sphere and tried the same thing as Anton. As the blood sphere approached the same distance as the fireball it quivered and returned to liquid and splashed onto the ground.

“That's really strange.” Jeff said, handling another piece of the dark grey metal. “Doesn't seem to do anything to me.”

Verona reached out and touched the metal. The red marks and her eyes instantly returned to normal, her face overcome with bewilderment. She checked her arms for the glow but there was none.

“It just went out.” she said as she looked to Anton.

She took a few paces back from the metal. The glow returned to her body.

“Okay, looks like I can get it back again.”

“I think that's enough of that.” Anton said, “I don't think any mage wants to get stabbed by one of these...just another thing we're going to have to worry about. Though, it should mean that this couldn't use magic...but it could.”

Over the next few minutes they removed all pieces of the armor. Not all of them had the dark grey metal underneath them, but enough for most of it's body to be covered. It just did not explain how the commander could use its magic.

“Do we want to get rid of this thing now?” Jeff asked. “We've got all the good stuff.”

A villager entered the barn, carrying a large barrel of alcohol. Now they could store the body parts without them hopefully degrading too much for the future. Another had also brought several clay jars and pots, enough to store everything. They would need to be labelled so they are not drunken by mistake.

Anton used the knife to carve out the white cysts from the brain, put them in the jar and filled them with the alcohol.

With everything they needed from the skull, Anton handed it to Avery to dispose of.

“Just want to check the body before we get rid of it.” Anton said as he started to cut through the cloth covering the commander, “I doubt the little white bits in it's brain are enough to allow it to use magic.”

He continued cutting, revealing the body underneath. Anton's carving apart the skull was quickly forgotten.

The cysts were not just inside. Nearly every part of its body was covered with grotesque and cancerous white cysts. Despite being dead for over a day they continue to leak a sickly white ooze. The stench was unbelievable, trapped within by the tight clothes.

“By the god's,” Jeff coughed violently as he covered his nose, “That thing is worse than a dozen dead bodies.”

The others covered their nose and faces as well. Anton was nearly gagging himself.

He used the knife to start prodding at the cysts. They leaked a vile thick liquid. It smelled even worse than the body.

“Christ, this whole thing is vile,” Anton said, bringing his arm to cover his mouth, “How much is this thing carrying?”

He did his best to collect some of the puss in one of the containers and rolled the body over to see how extensive they were. The others did not help him in his endeavor. With a little effort he was able to remove the skin where the cysts were the thinnest, on the back.

“Anton, how much more of this crap do you want to smell?” Jeff asked. Avery and Verona looked at him in agreement.

“Just want to see if there's anything strange going on underneath the skin.” Anton replied. He started to cut away at the cold flesh with the knife to the spine, “We can guess the white cysts and puss have something to do with it's magic still working despite the magic inhibiting metal.”

Anton removed another chunk of flesh, looking just like the fat-less hunk of muscle that he saw the first time.

“But,” Anton continued, “That in itself doesn't explain why it was able to use magic while still covered in that grey metal. There might-”

“What's that?” Jeff asked, pointing towards the center of the spine.

Anton and the others looked down at the spine. Along the center, still buried in flesh, he could see something. It glinted as he moved his head back and forth and the light struck it at different angles.

“I can see something.” Anton said as he continued to look.

Using the knife he dug around the glint, he started to free it. It looked like a shard of glass. With a light tug he tried to free it but it shattered.

The moment it broke, the body started writhing and thrashing about, completely turning itself over. They dived back, Anton covering Verona. Its bones and flesh broke as its limbs smashed into the wooden crates, going limp in a few seconds.

When Anton looked back its body was a broken mess, bones jutted from its still cyst covered skin and pieces of flesh were exposed. Its stomach was torn open, it's innards splattered all over the ground.

They glanced at each-other than to the body. Anton helped Verona to her feet, and looked at the stomach's contents. There was recently chewed grass, but something else as well. Verona, though she could no see, feigned a gasp as he poked around with the knife.

There was a fingernail, a human one.

He felt queasy at the sight.

Now I know why those women were so eager to die...

He lifted the body up and looked at the point in the back but could not see the glint again. Whatever it was, broke or was destroyed in the attack. He let it slump back onto the crate.

“I don't know what that glint was,” Anton said as he brushed the dirt off his clothes, “But it wasn't good. If there are any more goblins, see if you can capture them intact and take care when harvesting around their back. We should find out what that was.”

“Now can we get rid of it?” Jeff asked again.

“Absolutely.” Anton replied, Verona tried to have a peek at the stomach but Anton held her back with his arm and shook his head. “We have what we need, so dump and burn this thing. Pray we don't have to fight another.”

Jeff and Avery looked a little relieved, however they did not seem to want to move the body. They went outside and got a couple villagers to take it out of the village. Those villagers did not look happy, especially the one having to carry the head.

“Well, now that that disgusting thing is done, we have a council meeting.” Jeff explained.

“Sure, just let me wash my hands first.” Anton replied.

---[]---

The council members were a little disturbed by Anton's actions. The presence of a tiny sliver of something within the Yellow Goblin commander had only thrown up questions, not that Anton had any real answers. He just hoped there were no cysts growing in his brain.

“It was kind of disgusting.” Verona continued talking.

She was telling the others what happened, Anton unfortunately had drifted off trying to figure it out.  Compared to the others he did not feel much when he was dissecting the goblin, almost like it was just a lump of meat.

“Not that much we found out though, just more things that refuse to make sense.” Anton said as he lent back into his chair.

“Although,” Bertram coughed loudly to try and bring the meeting forward, “That does bring us to the first thing we need to discuss today. What to do next.”

Everything went quiet.

“Now, we all know that you two are intending to leave-”
“Not for ever though.” Anton added.

“That may be so. But during that time, we need to figure out we are going to continue.”

The room went quiet again. With the ever-present threat of the Yellow Goblins now gone, they seemed to lack a clear direction.

Anton raised his hand to speak, the others turning towards him.

“If I may, you are not that strong yet, especially if Verona and I leave. We have about a thousand people, give or take?”

The others nodded.

“What we're currently lacking is people, and if we take the long way, it'll take decades before there's a significant increase in the number of people. Part of what I will do is try and recruit or encourage people to come and live here, so long as you're all okay with that?”

He scanned the room and did not find any opposition.

“Anyway, that could take some time. During that, I can only tell you guys not to draw any attention to yourselves. So that means no scouting or expeditions beyond the quarry.”

Jeff had a look of disappointment on his face.

“The last thing you need to do is draw attention to yourselves by exploring and getting caught, especially in an area where the power balance between the monsters and beasts has changed dramatically.”

Jeff sighed but still seemed happy.

“I gotcha'. Well keep training our soldiers and the rest. It'll make taking this village a lot harder in the future.”

Jonathan raised his hand to speak.

“I know I told you a while ago but I have run out of coal. I cannot do that much with the forge anymore. We could use wood, but I really do not want to have the ones around the village cut down.”

Anton agreed.

“And the nearest one is near the mountain, or the quarry....I think for now you should use the wood near the quarry for now.” Anton added. “You are already making a disturbance there, so a few more people shouldn't make much of a difference. If that becomes too low then it'll have to be the forest to the west. On a different topic, does anyone here have mining experience?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“At Maxill I'll see about finding out getting somebody with experience, someone who can point to where some coal and ore is. It'll stop us from cutting down the countryside. Zac, can your guys handle collecting the wood?”

“No probs lad. We'll just use a cart for wood instead of stone.” Zac said.

“Okay, after this, I'll need to speak to you, Jonathan, in your blacksmith. There are some things I need to you to look over.”

Jonathan nodded.

“Oh, and Zac?”

“Hmm?”

“We need you guys to continue expanding Atros, in preparation of more people arriving. That means a second wall and a lot more houses. I'll leave the designing up to you.”

“We'll get on it. As fast as we can.” Zac said as he leant back.

The room went quiet again.

“So,” Bertram began, “I think that covers just about everything that needs addressing. Anyone have anything else?”

Sybil was the one to speak up.

“There was a journal along with that red crystal. It explains how to use the thing properly.”

She pulled the gem out and placed in onto the table. In the light it looked very impressive.

“Basically,” Sybil continued, “It works by using Earth Mana.”

Her eyes darted to Anton, seemingly remembering that he did not come from this world.

“The Earth Mana that allows plants to grow so quickly, among other things like monsters. Anyway,  it uses that to make monsters not able to see you. Keep in mind that I said monsters, things like the  wolves and whatnot will still find you, though not as easily.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Anton said as he reached over and picked up the red gem.

“It also needs some time to recover the Earth Mana, overnight should be enough. During that time it cannot be moved.”

Sybil pulled out the journal and flicked through its pages.

“There's a drawing of it just being half-way submerged into the dirt. That seems to be enough.”

Anton felt that getting something so ornate dirty was a little disrespectful to it, but if that was necessary he would do it.

“Thanks Sybil. I'll keep that in mind.”

“By the way Anton, how do you expect to get to Maxill and back with all that stuff?” Jeff asked.

Anton did not have an actual answer, he had not thought about it.

“I guess I could get a cart with one of those Ix creatures. They don't seem too difficult to control.”

Verona groaned and squirmed uncomfortably.

“That thing made me throw up and I could barely walk afterwards...are we really going to take that?”

“We'll take a few days before we leave to get a decent handling of that creature. Looks like we'll have to take another cart from you Zac.”

Zac shrugged.

“Doesn't worry me. We'll manage just fine.”

Bertram looked around the table and found no-one looking like they had something further to add.

“In that case, this council meeting is done.” Bertram said, bringing the council meeting to a close.

---[]---

Anton brought the drawings of the guns to Jonathan's blacksmith, Verona following him.

He looked confused at the drawings, not understanding what they truly meant.

“These are things from your world?” Jonathan asked, “I've just never seen anything like this.”

Anton nodded.

“These are just a few of the things from my world that will help with the upcoming war with the demons and anything else that could get in the way. It's called a rifle.”

Jonathan, his children and Verona raised an eyebrow at hearing the name.

“I'm not sure what it's called that, I think it's to do with the barrel is shaped on the inside. Anyway, this will allow anyone to have incredible powers, rivaling my fire-bombs.” Anton explained.

“But these drawings...I don't mean to be rude...but they are not very accurate.” Jonathan looked a little sheepish.

Anton waved his hands to calm him.

“I know. I don't know their exact dimensions but I know the rough design.”

The picture that he had drawn was a rough bolt action rifle, one that he had seen in war movies. He figured that they would be easier to understand than something more complex than a machine gun. The alternative was to draw something like a musket, but if he was going to have the chance to design weapons, he thought he might as well skip some of the steps if possible.

“Well,” Jonathan started rubbing the back of his head, “I don't know how I'm meant to build these accurately enough for them to work. With my equipment and the lack of specifics in these designs...It will take some serious time.”

“I understand that.” Anton said, not taking offense. “This is something that wasn't conceived in a few days.”

Anton looked over his drawings again.

“I'm really sorry to have to drop this on you but I don't have much choice.”

Jonathan looked at the drawings with Anton.

“I suppose that this long metal tube-”

“Barrel.”

“A barrel, should not be too hard to make. I presume it's meant to be perfectly flat on the inside and straight?”

Anton nodded. “There's also other things like the stock, trigger, firing pin, some way of loading and unloading the rifle and I'm sure there's a myriad of other component's that I've missed. As I said, I don't know how they go together.”

Jonathan made a frown but eventually smiled.

“Each piece does not look that difficult but it should take a bit to get them right. I am not a magician so I cannot guarantee that it will be perfectly flat. Then we, and I presume it will be 'we'?...”

Anton nodded again.

“Can put this together and figure out how it will work. But I will need some better equipment. Mine is quite old and beaten. I've already prepared a list of things for your travels. If you can even get a few of them it would be a great help.”

Jonathan handed him a sheet of paper. On it were many lines of the characters of this world. Anton had improved his comprehension a bit, he could understand quite a few but did not have any idea why Jonathan would want them. Nevertheless, he would get them.

“There's another sheet I want you to have a look at.”

Anton pulled out another piece of paper, this one with a drawing of a bullet.

“This,” Anton said pointing to the drawing, “Is called a bullet. It's what's used in the rifle. This is what is used to kill. If you just have the rifle, you can't do a thing. These are very important and we will need thousands, many thousands of these.”

“So, this fits in there?”

“Yep. It has to fly out the barrel so it can't be too large or small. This is the thing that will probably test your ability.”

Jonathan looked more dejected by the minute. Anton was asking him to do something that was well above what a villager blacksmith was used to. However, he wasn't saying no and he had seen his work before. It filled Anton with quite a bit of confidence.

“That being said,” Anton continued, “It is a little harsh of me to ask you build something so intricate and detailed when it is just you and with your basic equipment. So...in that spirit, there is something  perhaps a little more...reasonable.”

This time Anton brought out another sheet, this one with a cannon on it.

“This seems a lot more simple.” Jonathan commented slyly as he took the sheet of paper.

“Yes,” replied Anton, “A large, hunk of metal with a tube inside. A large metal ball is placed infront of a pack of explosive powder here, then ignited somehow from outside and on top. That explosion throws the metal ball out at tremendous speed, which could easily tear apart any person or creature foolish enough to get in its way.”

Jonathan studied the paper, this time there was no bewilderment that Anton saw with the rifles and the bullets.

“This looks...more possible.” Jonathan said as he laid the sheet down on the table, “I...okay. With the metal that we have recovered from the battle, we can probably get a few of these. We will go through quite a bit of wood to get things hot enough and building a mold to make the main tube could take a little time.”

There was another pause from Jonathan as he glanced over all the pieces of paper.

“Okay. I will give them a go.” Jonathan said as he rolled up the papers. “It will be good for me to try something new. I will fit in around anything else important I have to do.”

“Thank-you Jonathan.” Anton shook his hand. “We just need some explosive powder and something to set it off for the bullets and the cannon, another thing to get at Maxill. But there is one last thing.”

“Oh?”

“If these things actually get working, they and their designs will be incredibly valuable. Not just money, but for the power balance of every kingdom and nation in this world. This means it must be kept secret at all costs. You understand what that means?”

Anton held his gaze with Jonathan, he seemed to realize what Anton meant.

“I'm not being threatening.” Anton tried to calm him down. “I just want you to know how seriously I take this.”

“I understand. I will keep everything secret.” Jonathan turned to his children, “This means you too. No speaking of this or showing others these drawings.”

“Got it!” They both said with childlike enthusiasm.

“I'll leave you alone then. Good luck Jonathan.”

Anton waved back to them as he and Verona left the blacksmith.

---[]---

When Anton and Verona arrived back at the central plaza they were stopped by Jeff and Bertram.

“We have a gift for the both of you.” Bertram explained as he led them towards the west of Atros. “Since the both of you are now a couple, you should really have your own house.”

“Plus it will let mum and dad have some sleep before midnight.” Jeff smirked at Anton and Verona.

I guess we were that loud.

Verona groaned and squirmed uncomfortably, a quick glance showing that her face was turning quite red.

“I...I'm sorry.” Anton felt his face heat up a little. “I guess we were making a little too much noise.”

“Well,” Bertram looked a little awkward, “Now it won't be a problem.”

Jeff laughed, carrying on with a spring in his step.

A few minutes later they stopped at a particularly large house, much larger than most of the buildings in the village. The house was situated halfway between the wall and the central plaza. It appeared to be almost two full single story houses stuck together.

“This house used to belong to a...” Bertram began to explain before hesitating, a myriad of thoughts flowing through his face, “Well...anyway. It's been abandoned for some time. We didn't tear it down since it's still in good condition but didn't know what to do with it. Now, I think we've found a good use for it. After saving all our lives, and that you're going to help us grow stronger, it is the least of the things we can do for you.”

“Thanks guys. This means quite a bit to us.” Anton said to both of them, Verona seemed to have the same thought.

They all entered the house. It was laid out very similar to Jeff's house, a large corridor down the middle with another corridor branching off either side. There appeared to be quite a few rooms in the house, some large and small. There was not much on the inside and it needed quite a thorough cleaning. Otherwise, it was very nice for the village.

The room at the end of the central corridor's door was open. Inside was their bed and clothes, neatly folded either side. The fur cover had seemingly been cleaned from the dried blood. There was also a large table and two chairs placed on the side.

“I take it you guys had our stuff moved in?” Anton asked.

“Yeah,” Jeff replied, “When you were at Jonathan's. I hope you don't mind.”

“It's fantastic!” Verona said, jumping into the air in delight. She hugged Jeff and Bertram then returned to Anton's side.

“We'll let you get two get cozy here, we don't have anything else major planned for today.” Jeff explained.

“See you two at lunch.” Bertram waved back as they both left, closing the door.

“So what do they mean by that?” Verona asked.

Anton did not know if she was being serious or she was being coy. Regardless of the meaning, he knelt down and picked her up, clutching at his shirt out of surprise. It appeared to have been the former meaning. With her free hand, she wrapped it around his neck and pulled herself up for a kiss as he walked to the bed.

---[]---

The next three days were spent learning how to the control the Ix beast. The driver, the one that lead them to the lake, had taken on the job with extreme enthusiasm. While most just lead the creatures from the front, Anton wanted to use it just like he did. That seemed to be all the driver needed to start teaching Anton.

A few times being flung from his seat, the beast started to settle down and respond to his commands over the few days. Now he was ready to go.

Verona had gotten a little better with her motion sickness, though Anton had no intention of carrying on like a madman.

For their journey he had collected two of the large light-weight chests onto the cart, several small bags of gold, a few large sheets of thick cloth, some sleeping and eating equipment and the red crystal. Strangely, there was no name for the crystal that they found so they stuck with that. Sybil had given them several weeks worth of food in pots and bags, Anton knew he could use his magic to catch some creatures if things got serious. He had also taken a short sword for himself, just a steel one. A thought to take one of the Chelium swords briefly came up, but it would draw too much attention.

Now he and Verona were at the western edge of Atros, getting ready to depart.

“Are you sure you've got everything?” Sybil asked again as Anton got onto the front of the cart. She and several of the women had been fussing around them for the past hour or so.

“Yes, I am sure.” Anton replied with a hint of annoyance. He knew they were doing it for the right reason, it was just starting to get annoying after the tenth time.

“And,” Sybil moved very close and spoke in a whisper, “You are coming back, right?”

“Yes. I shouldn't have to keep saying it, but I will be returning.”

Sybil smiled and returned to the front of the growing crowd. He looked back to Verona, who was looking intently at him, waiting for him to start.

Let's start.

“Everyone,” Anton addressed the crowd, “I will be returning, returning with resources and people that will make Atros into an ever stronger power. One which will be able to fight off anything that threatens humanity. Good luck everyone.”

His somewhat melancholic words had still managed to inspire some people. Most applauded while some even cheered. All seemed quite happy for their future.

He whipped on the reigns, the Ix snorted and lurched forward to a quick running pace.

“Come back soon!” Jeff yelled at them, Anton turned and saw him waving madly.

Verona laughed, crawling out of the back of the cart to the front where Anton sat. Over the past few days he had started to get a decent read on Verona's emotions, as good as any man could understand a potentially dangerous woman like her. She seemed a little tense and quite nervous. This would be her first time leaving Atros and for somewhere so far away.

He placed his arm around her, gently rocking her.

“I'm just nervous.” she told him in a quiet voice. “Going to the lake was the furthest I have ever been. And now, I'll be heading to another village...in another kingdom.”

“You'll be fine.” he told her. “Imagine how I'm feeling, coming from another world.”

She chuckled again.

“I can forget that sometimes.”

Verona straightened herself up and stretched her body.

“The two of us should strong enough to deal with anything we find, right?”

“Absolutely. The two of us can blast through anything in our way. Right now, it's this forest.” Anton nodded towards the horizon encompassing forest. “We'll get through, get what we can and come back. I'm looking forward to sleeping in our bed again.”

She laughed again, burying herself underneath his arm.

Bertram said the trip would take seven days on foot. At their current speed it would probably take six or maybe even less. Anton hoped it would be uneventful but he knew it probably would not be.

-----------------

Hello again.

This one was about getting a few things started, trying to figure out why the yellow goblin commander could use magic, not that they did, and most importantly get the design and production of guns started. There is no way that someone would just be able to make it straight away, so it will be some time before they could actually get one, hopefully that will help show some realism in this story.

Anyway, I wrote this in a few days so, as usual, I hope it will be up to standard.

Thanks for reading!

EDIT:

My first edit to something I've posted.

In hindsight, just having them start to build rifles without at least getting cannons is a little stupid of me. So, I've changed it a little. Apart from that nothing has changed.

Just wanted to make an extra note here, just in case someone wonders what the comments are about.

I'll also make a note of it in the next chapter.

Chapter 022 - The Forest's Secrets

Chapter 022:

The cart rumbled and rattled to the edge of the forest. The trees were giants, reaching almost twenty meters into the sky and quite thick at the trunks. The moment they entered the entire world felt like it had changed. Light pierced through the gaps, scattering beams of light throughout the canopy and onto the shrubbery. Strange shadows were cast everywhere but there was no sound except for the rattling and rumbling of the cart over the hard ground.

While there was a path through the forest, it was quite clear that nobody had used it for many years. Despite it looking like it was originally more than two carts wide there was barely enough room for one. Shrubs and trees had grown through the hardened dirt at the edges, sometimes close enough to scrape on the side of the cart as the continued forward at a reasonable pace. They were moving a little slower than walking, but that was to be expected with the large rocks and gullies on the path that had dug themselves during the rain.

The Ix beast seemed fine with the speed and load it was dragging. The driver had told Anton the signs of the beast looking tired or hungry, something he was told he should not ignore.

Verona was still beside Anton but her head darted around as she kept an eye out for possible danger. With the red crystal he did feel quite safe but Sybil's words that it would only impede the wolves, the same ones that he knew were probably lurking in the forest from the battle for the mountain, kept him on alert.

He breathed deep, enjoying the refreshing smell of the forest air, something that he sorely missed while he was living back on Earth.

Verona seemed to be enjoying the change. While it got warm in the grasslands, it did not become unbearable. Now it was slightly cooler although the air felt thicker thanks to the humidity.

She took a particularly deep breath.

“The air feels so much nicer here. There's no longer any smell of the dead goblins.”

Anton agreed. While the villagers had done a good job at removing the bodies to the south of Atros, small parts remained. These had rotted and put out a horrific smell.

“Yes. Yes it is.” Anton looked around and to the Ix beast, it seemed calm at the moment, “My time on Earth was spent in large cities, where the fresh air was virtually nowhere to be found.”

She threw him a quizzical look.

“Imagine being downwind of Jonathan's blacksmith all the time.”

“Ugh, that doesn't sound fun.”

“No. Having this fresh air in my lungs is a wonderful thing. Just like it has been since day one here.”

They continued further in relative silence the rest of the day, speaking as quietly and as infrequently as they could. Every so often Verona would grab at his shirt and point out into the shrubbery of the forest. When he looked he could see the green eyes of the wolves looking at them. The longer he looked the more he could see, counting over ten at one time. However, they refused to attack, content with lurking in the shadows before slinking away. The Ix seemed equally surprised. Ears twitched and it snorted louder, but it too seemed confused as to why they would not attack.

He kept an eye on the red crystal. The inside now looked like it was alive, a faintly swirling and writhing mass of red worms. They grew slightly in integrity the closer the wolves came, Anton had no idea when the red crystal would be out of power.

As darkness came and the sun began to set, things started to become more interesting. The wolves had given up their stalking almost an hour ago, the effect of the red crystal making further pursuit too much of an effort.

The Ix creature was starting to tire as well, occasionally requiring a whip from the reins to keep it moving quickly. Anton decided that it was a good idea to make some sort of camp for the night.

A few meters of the road was the best spot he could find, it provided an open area that they would be able to sleep and recharge the red crystal. Apparently it would keep working during its recharging, though Anton was not willing to take that chance.

Probably should have brought more people, oh well.

After bringing the cart to a stop, he loosely tied the Ix to a tree and allowed it to graze on the grass.

“They could still be out there.” Verona murmured to herself as she got off the cart. She held the spear very tight in her hands and close to her body.

“They more than likely are still out there.” Anton replied as he checked the tightness of the reins attached to the tree. “As long as we don't make too much noise and draw attention to ourselves, they should leave us alone.”

Verona still seemed a little unhappy, Anton moved to counter her.

“That being said, there's nothing like keeping watch. There's no way that we can leave it just to that thing.”

Anton pointed towards the red gem. It lay in the dirt just like the diagram shown to him. The swirling mass seemed to be responding to something, already having become a few shades brighter, probably through the Earth Mana flowing into it.

“So,” Verona began, “Do you want to take the first watch or do want me to.”

“I'm not really sure. I don't think it matters. Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” Verona replied, stretching out her body. “I'm not feeling that tired yet.”

They took the sleeping gear out, basically a thick woolen sleeping bag and food for their evening meal. It was some hard bread, salted meat and a few vegetables, presumably a carrot and some other green ball-like thing that tasted strangely like celery.

When I get back I'm going to need everyone to go over the types of fruits and vegetables here.

After that, Anton prepared to go to sleep. They had not lit a fire, fearing that it would attract many creatures lurking in the darkness. Verona had very keen eyesight that quickly adapted to the night, though Anton wondered if it could do better. There was the thing about the gods telling him to experiment more with their powers.

“Hey Verona?” Anton asked.

“What's up?” she asked from a broken log she was using as a seat.

“I want to try something, with my magic, on you. If that's alright?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I want to try and use the prayer power to see if I can enhance your eyesight for a time.”

Verona looked quite expectantly at him.

“Can it do that?” she asked excitedly.

Anton scratched at the back of his head.

“To be honest, I'm not sure. But if it cannot, it'll tell us something.”

He stood up and placed his hand on her head.

Okay....Tethra, goddess of prayer. May you bless this one with an increase in her ability to see in the night until the sun rises.

The mana flowed from his body, about a third. Something appeared to have happened.

Verona looked around wildly, focusing her attention into the darkness.

“I...I can see, so much better than before,” She was almost leaping with joy, “I can see the leaves, the branches so clearly. Just like it was day. How long will it last?”

“If it worked correctly, until morning. Not that you'll be on guard for that whole time, but I felt it was a good stopping point.”

Verona nodded in agreement.

“Great. You can go to sleep. I'll be fine.”

“Okay then. Wake me up when you get tired.”

Verona smiled as he slipped into the woolen sleeping bag. He hoped it would be a quiet night as he slipped into his dreams.

He was woken gently in the middle of the night, just as he asked. Verona smiled at him, though it was a little hard to see her with the lack of light.

Might as well see if it works on me.

Anton chanted the same prayer that he did for Verona. Almost a third of his mana was used again, though it had recovered mostly during the night.

Now he could see her almost as clear as day. It looked as if there was some grain effect over his vision and some of the color had been lost, but otherwise it was very clear.

“It worked. Thanks for waking me Verona. I feel quite refreshed. Anything happened?”

Verona shook her head.

“Nothing. I thought I saw a goblin in the far distance, but I couldn't see it again. I think as long as we keep quiet we'll be okay.”

Anton got out of the sleeping bag and looked around. He could see far more clearly but there was nothing else to see. Even the wind had died down, hopefully keeping their scent in one place.

“Thanks. Alright, you can go to sleep now. I'll wake you when it's morning.”

“'kay”

She reached into the cart and grabbed her sleeping bag, laid it out and slipped into it. Within a few moments she was fast asleep. He did not know if she was pushing herself, but he did know that she could fall asleep very quickly.

The Ix had long finished eating its fill of grass and had lain down on all it's limbs and had fallen asleep as well. It was a little bit louder than Verona, snorting and huffing occasionally, but otherwise everything was silent. There was not even the crackle of a fire to keep him company.

Time passed very slowly while he was on guard duty. Keeping relatively still so as to not make a sound while keeping a watchful eye out took quite a bit of mental effort.

Regardless, time continued to flow, the darkness of night slowly beginning to lift as the new day came into being.

Verona awoke without any input from Anton. A few quiet groans and she was completely awake. She did not ask how it had been, merely getting her spear and began practicing her thrusts and swings. She saw him looking at her.

“My muscles feel a little stiff.” she explained. “I've been sitting on that cart all of yesterday. Plus, I always need practice.”

She looked him up and down.

“Do you want to practice as well? I haven't actually seen you use a sword.”

Anton felt a little sheepish.

“I...haven't actually used it yet.”

He pulled the blade from the sheath, it felt quite heavy in his hand. It was a short sword, so it probably should be used with a shield in the other hand for it to be the most effective. He swung it up and down, left to right, to try and get a feel for it. Verona looked at him, her head rocking side to side, she did not seem pleased by his effort.

Without being asked or speaking she walked up and corrected his stance, spreading his legs and making sure that they were in the correct position. Immediately, the sword felt easier and less awkward to use.

She took his smile as all the thanks she need before carrying on with her own morning training.

When the morning sun was well and truly up, Verona started acting funny again.

“Whatever I had that improved my vision, it just left.”

She looked over at the rising sun.

“You did say it was meant to last until sunrise, right?”

Anton nodded.

“Well, it's good to know that.”

“It is. I don't know how long I could make it last though.” Anton said, “It used a third of my mana, so I could probably do a days worth in one go. It seems to get easier with every time I use it, so...” Anton shrugged, “It's probably very useful. I wonder if I could tether the prayer magic?”

“Hey, you haven't told me what that is yet.” Verona pointed out.

“Right...well, that feeling when you're using separate parts of your power. Say, two blood spheres?”

Verona nodded as her body started to glow. She held her spear our for Anton to place his hand against.

After drawing up the blood she formed two blood spheres. To help demonstrate the way he felt tethering worked, he summoned two small fire balls of his own.

“Okay, these two fire balls are separate, but, using the same feeling of mana that created them, I can join them.”

Anton did so, the only change being a thin line of fire connected the two. Verona looked at his then to hers. She frowned and grumbled as she tried to get them to work. Almost ten minutes had passed when a tiny sliver of blood started to join the two. She looked quite happy with what she had done.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“I take it wasn't just literally putting the two together that was the problem? I've seen you break and reform them with ease”

Verona pursed her lips.

“Yeah. I just don't see how this makes them any better. Keeping them two separate lumps of mana and joining them without them becoming one was really tricky.”

“When I use it, the bombs effect become larger and the pillars became much bigger. You remember that?”

“Oh yes. So...I used these to smash their skulls in. So...”

She moved the balls around, they seemed quite sluggish compared to usual. After some time, she broke the spheres into many fragments then reformed them. A growing look of disappointment grew on her face.

“Okay,” Anton began, trying to console Verona, “It might not make them more destructive, because yours is different to mine, it should do something else though. What about the hardness? That was a potential problem.”

Anton pulled out his steel sword and waved Verona's blood spheres over. Before he had been able to cause a serious dent into it with a sudden strike. This time, he raised the sword over his head and swung it down like he was trying to cleave the sphere in two.

As the edge of the blade made contact, he felt it give way but only slightly. The handle rolled in his hand and spun the sword's edge away from the sphere. It was strong, probably as strong as steel if not stronger. Only a few tiny shards had formed. Verona looked quite happy by the results.

“I could feel that. It felt just the same when I moved it normally but that felt like nothing when you hit it.”

“Your tethering seems to make the solid blood much stronger each time it is tethered...maybe. It could just be you're getting better at controlling it. We'll do more tests when it's safer but at the moment it's best to stick with what you know you can do safely.”

She seemed very happy knowing that something came out of her effort.

“Okay. Let's get a move on then.”

They gathered their sleeping gear, collected the red crystal, woke the still dozing Ix and got on the road again.

---[]---

For the next two days the events were the same. Every so often Verona would point out something in the distance but they never came any closer.

The third day, over half-way of their journey, something was finally different. Anton was the first to see it.

In the center of the road was a cart lying on its side, broken and rotted over time. But there was something else. Hanging off the sides were pieces of torn cloth and raggedy pieces of fur, forming fur tents. Around them green moved.

The Ix began to snort and became restless, so to did Verona. She could see them clearly a few seconds before Anton did.

Ten Green Goblins moved about their tents.

He had not seen this type before.

They looked smaller than the Yellow Goblins, about 70 centimeters tall, though they looked more deformed and hideous than the Yellow Goblins.

He pulled on the reins, bringing them to a halt, trying his best to keep quiet.

Verona gritted her teeth loud enough for Anton to hear. Her hatred of them was well and truly ingrained in her. She took Anton's hand, cut it with the spear and drew out some blood.

The red crystal was doing a good job. Some of the Green Goblins close to them seemed a little agitated but looked as if they could not figure it out.

Either they have poor eyesight or the really can't see us...I wonder what they are seeing right now?

Thick shrubs and many trees were either side, meaning they had to go through and move the cart. There was no possibility of talking with these monsters.

“Do you want to do it, Verona?” Anton asked.

From what he could see it was only a great mental effort that stopped her from launching herself at them.

“Yes?” she replied, saying it like she did not understand why he even had to ask.

“Just keep quiet when you do it.” Anton said as he lent forward and stroked the back of the Ix, trying to keep it calm and not making any noise.

Verona smiled with her wicked grin. She hopped down from the cart and began to glow brightly.

The Green Goblins closest to them woke and alerted the others. They all looked towards them but still seemed hesitant to approach.

Verona ran towards them, summoning the blood into ten small daggers. It was when Verona was ten meters away from him, and away from the red crystal, that they started to act.

As if a fog had been lifted from their eyes and mind they recoiled backwards, reaching for their weapons.

They tried to form a wall of wooden sticks but they were useless against Verona. The moment she was in range, about ten or so meters, she flung all of the blood daggers straight towards the goblins with a flick of her wrist. All found their mark, flying straight through and landing in the cart and dirt.

One had survived, possibly a deliberate act on the part of Verona. It looked bewildered at its friends dying, though by the time it realized what was happening Verona was a few meters away. Her spear sliced through the stick raised to defend itself and cleaved its head clean off its shoulders. Blood spurted from the wound before the body fell limp like the others.

It covered her arms and hands. Verona stopped and stared at her hands dyed red in blood.

Anton whipped the reins on the Ix, the creature moving forward at a quick pace. When he got to the strewn cart Verona was still looking at the blood covering her hands.

Her head twitched as she came back to reality.

“Sorry. They're all dead, so we can move the cart.” She looked a little bashful but did not acknowledge that she had just zoned out.

Anton hopped off the cart and held Verona's cheek.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a little carried away there. Been a while since I've had to kill something.”

A couple of days...most people would be glad to not have to kill.

Anton felt that he would not get anything else out of her right now, so he let it go, though kept a mental note of it.

“Before we move it, we should at least have a little peek at the cart.” Anton suggested, “There might be something useful in it.”

They searched through the piles of clothes and rotten wood, finding roughly sharpened branches but little else of value. Anton then turned his attention to the ruined cart. The wood turned to dust and fragments as he touched it.

After a minute of fruitless searching they gave up.

“This thing is years old,” Anton explained as he stood up and motioned for Verona to help him rock it from side to side, “Anything good would have been either lost or been destroyed by now.”

They began rocking the cart back and forth, finally rolling it out of the way. The cart crumbled in two as it smashed and rested on a large tree.

They were about to leave when Anton spot a golden glint underneath where the cart lay. He lent down, brushed the dirt to the side and picked it up.

It was a single gold coin. On it was the sign of the royal treasury of their dead kingdom, a crown with eight points. He dug a little further around, finding another two coins, these ones silver but still with the same eight pointed crown.

“Looks like they also tried to flee to the west, to Maxill and beyond.”

“How do you know that?” Verona asked, coking her head to the side as she started to pull up the blood from her arms and stored them in her pots.

“We...oh, you were having a bath at the time.” Anton explained. “The journal we found with the rest of the treasure told of a group of people that tried to escape the destruction. It said they were going to head east but were killed by the Yellow Goblins.”
He looked to the cart. “Looks like some tried to make it to the west.”

Anton looked closer at the underside of the cart. Walking closer, he saw the circle a five pointed star within it underneath the cart.

“Looks like another noble family tried and failed to make it through.”

Anton waved for Verona to come back to the cart. They boarded and began moving again, leaving the carnage to be feasted on by the wolves and other creatures.

---[]---

The fifth day revealed something far more interesting. A few meters off the side of the road was a lake. Nowhere near as large as the one near Atros, but at least several hundred meters wide.

Anton bought the cart to a halt, allowing them to stop and soak up the sight. It was currently the middle of the day, the sun was quite hot. He looked towards the lake, thinking about the cooling water on his skin. He had not taken a bath, despite having one in the village, and it was really becoming a problem.

He brought the Ix and the cart to a halt, Verona looking confusingly at him.

“Do we need more water?” Verona asked.

Their water supply was enough if they conserved it during their travel and got some more at Maxill, but getting some more would help them should something bad happen.

“We can do that as well. But, actually I was thinking of something else.” Anton whipped the Ix and drove the cart next to the short sandy shoreline of the lake.

“Actually, I was thinking of having a swim. Maybe even catch and eat some fish. We'll have to spear-fish though, I don't want to use lightning bombs here.”

Verona looked at the lake then to her body. She rubbed the exposed part of her neck and then her still exposed feet, grumbling as she frowned.

“I do feel a little sticky and dirty. I guess a swim could be good. Do you think anything bad is lurking in the water?”

The water was incredibly clear, like it had never even seen dirt. The lake was relatively shallow and they could see the bottom even several meters away from the shoreline. He could see small fish, almost the size of his hand but nothing larger.

“Looks like it will be fine.” Anton said as he hopped off the cart and helped Verona down. “We'll stay in the shallows and keep near the red crystal as well.”

Verona smiled, running and splashing into the shallows. Diving back up in the waist high water her body glistened with water. She splashed onto her back and floated on the water, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation. Anton heading in as well, loving the cold sensation on his skin. Verona drifted over to him and spun back onto her feet.

“This is nice.” She said as she took off her shirt, throwing it to the grass.

The Ix looked dismissively at it before returning to eating the grass.

“Well, come on.” she said, reaching for and pulling Anton’s shirt up. “We don't have all day...and we haven't had much 'alone time' since we started this trip. How 'bout it?”

She wore a devilish grim, the same one she wore every night they were together.

“I guess we have some time.” Anton said as he looked around, throwing his shirt away and kissing her deeply.

An hour later both were sitting around a small camp-fire, eating a half dozen of the small fish cooked over the fire. Verona was the one to catch the fish using thin blood spears to hunt them. She did not know about the depth perception altering properties of water, taking many angry attempts before Anton helped her get it right.

Verona nestled in arms, occasionally humming something as she rubbed his free hand. They both heartily devoured the freshly cooked meat, occasionally eating a piece of bread or vegetable as well.

“I'm surprised you know what you were doing,” Verona said with a full mouth of fish and bread, “Since when do you know how to prepare a fish so you can eat it? My parents knew something about it, and I know that others can...”

Verona turned her head and looked straight into his eyes.

“You said you always lived in a city, where there was very little fresh air...so?” She waved her hand telling him to finish her thought.

“When I was young, we used to live out in the countryside. While it was out there, my father taught me quite a few things about doing things like this.”

“Hmm...what are they like? Your parents. You haven't even told me their names.”

She seemed a little miffed that he had not volunteered the information before.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He could not remember. The further he searched back trying to remember his parents names, mother and father, he found blank spots where there should have been memories.

A little bit of terror filled his mind and heart, Verona picking up on his increasingly rapid heartbeat.

Why can't I remember what they look like, even their names. I haven't even thought about them for years...

“Anton?!” Verona asked worryingly. There was panic in her face.

“You okay?”

She brushed his face and hair trying to see if he was alright. His heart started to calm down with her touch.

“I'm not really sure,” Anton replied, “I...can't remember.”

“Did you loose it when you came into this world?”

Anton shook his head. “I don't think so, I can remember everything else, just not them. It feel like its been...I don't know. It's just-”

“It's okay.” Verona said as she leant into him. She did not say anything else as she curled into him and held his hand tightly. They remained like this for many minutes.

“Well, it's time to go.” Anton lifted Verona up as he stood up.

He kicked dirt and sand over the fire, picked up what they had taken out and got onto the cart.

Verona held onto his arm until night fell, doing her best keep him calm and show her support. Anton did not calm down until he was asleep. Terrifying thoughts plagued his troubled sleep.

---[]---

The seventh day of traveling, and Anton had pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Verona had not asked about it again, letting it drift away in his mind, though not completely.

It was a few hours before lunch when they saw the first signs of human habitation. Some trees had been cut down to stumps and there were small tracks running through the grasses and shrubbery. However, Anton knew that not all humans were friendly.

“Verona?” she turned to look at him, “Keep your guard up, we may run into unfriendly humans and we'll need to be ready.”

“In that case, I'll need some of your blood.”

Anton held out his hand as he she drew up some blood, enough to fill up two pots.

“Can you use the Ix's blood?” Anton asked, Verona threw him a quizzical look. “It's just a thought.”

“I don't think it would like me cutting it, or draining up its blood.” Verona replied as she patted the backside of the beast.

The Ix snorted, but Anton had no idea if it was good or bad reaction to her touch.

They traveled for a few more minutes before Anton felt like he was being watched. Verona seemed to notice it as well, her eyes darting left and right but kept her head as steady as possible so not to as alert them.

A bolt flew at them, landing in the dirt on the road. Anton pulled back hard on the reins bringing the cart to a halt. Verona turned on her blood power, eyes darting about.

“I can feel that there's about eight people around us, one is hiding up in that tree.”

She brought her spear close and used the end to point at the tree in question.

Anton could see it, somebody was leaning against the trunk of the tree with a crossbow pointed at them. That was the one that fired the bolt at them judging by how it appeared to be reloading.

“Get ready.” Anton said as rustling sounds came closer.

“You don't look like youre' from round 'ere.” came a droning voice from the shrubbery.

Seven people emerged from the forest, five men and three women. They all wore basic leather armor and wielded crude iron weapons. Their faces were completely unwashed and their hair lank and greasy. Most of their teeth appeared to be missing and they smiled like deranged morons.

Ah, fantasy hill-billy bandits? This shouldn't be fun.

“Hello. Pleasant day for travel. And what do you want with some innocent travelers?” Anton asked, trying his best to not be offensive.

One of them men brought his blade up to his mouth and licked the blade.

“What's up with her?” he asked pointing at Verona, “That thing looks like a really menacing beasty.”

Verona scrunched up her face and clutched her spear tighter.

“Well, this has been a fascinating conversation, but it really is time for us to go on our way.” Anton whipped at the reins though the Ix did not appear to want to move too fast.

“Whoa, we're do ya' think you're going?” one of the women moved infront and brought the cart to a halt.

“Show us what's in the back.” said another. “I can see a chest back there. It looks like its worth quite a bit.”

Anton glanced back, finding the chests were slightly exposed from underneath the thick blankets. It must have moved during their travels and he did not noticed it until now. He groaned on the inside.

They moved towards the back of the cart.

“So are you guys and gals bandits?” Anton asked loudly. They stopped and looked at him with a smile.

“I wouldn't wanna' say that but...”

“You are bandits?” Anton asked again.

One of them shrugged.

“I suppose you could call us that. So, now that we got that out of the way-”

“I suppose I can kill you then?” Anton asked, “From my experience nobody cares if a few bandits get killed.”

The bandits laughed, though the backed off and grouped together to the side. They did not seem to be sure if Anton was serious but were playing it safe.

“You got some serious balls on you, you blonde twat.” the apparent bandit leader laughed. “We were just going to take all your stuff, maybe beat you up. Now...I think we're going to have some fun with you.”

They all looked at Verona.

“Especially her, your little feral woman.”

Anton felt his blood boil, he had played his part along with these bandits for more than long enough.

“Feral?” Verona asked angrily.

He got off the cart, so to did Verona.

“First of all, you can't have her. She's mine. Secondly, you should have gone into a different line of work.”

He looked straight at the bandit hiding in the tree.

“Verona, kill all of them except for that leader. I'll take care of the one up there.”

Without waiting for a response he raised his hand towards the hidden bandit and formed a lightning bolt with his mana. The single bolt arced through the air and struck the bandit in the chest, the crackled echoing through the forest air. It did not even have time to whimper as its body charred and fell from the tree.

Anton summoned a dozen lightning bombs and turned his attention to the seven bandits still around him. They had been stunned by his display of magic, Verona had not.

She brought up the blood and formed four spears, throwing them at the bandits. They screamed in terror before the spears punctured and tore into their chests. Verona did not seem to care whether they were man or woman, she killed them with no hesitation. Her attack left three bandits alive, including the supposed leader.

Verona lowered her spear and charged. With a shriek, one of the surviving women swung her metal hammer. Verona scoffed as she blocked the hammer with an enveloping ball of blood and swung her spear upwards. The red tip tore through her armor, flesh and bone as if it was not even there. The woman barely recognized its disappearance before Verona spun around and cut off her head in a single swipe.

The bandit leader looked on, terrified at what was happening, but had the sense to try and run away. Verona, however, ripped more blood from the dead woman and formed four long, three pronged spears. She flung it at the legs and arms of the bandit leader. He screamed as the blood pierced through his skin, Verona force them into the ground and refused to let him moved.

That left the remaining bandit, now wetting himself at seeing such rapid carnage. Anton still felt quite annoyed at the whole situation and flung a lightning bomb at his face. It exploded along with his face, the body falling backwards and limp.

“That was, what...ten seconds at most?” Anton asked the downed leader coyly.

He walked over to the bandit and knelt down, keeping his distance.

“All of this could have been avoided if you weren't bandits. Taking things from those-”

“We aren't always bandits!” the bandit blurted out. Anton rolled his hand, telling him to continue. “We're hunters...Look, most of the time we survive by hunting beasts and selling them to Maxill, but we need this.”

“How much do you make? Selling furs and meats?”

“If it's good, maybe a dozen or so copper coins for a full hide.”

The conversion here was 1,000 copper to 1 silver and 1,000 silver to a gold....we really are rich.

“So you resorted to robbing people so you could live like kings?”

The bandit went silent, looking straight into the ground infront of his face. Anton looked back at the other bandits.

“I take if from your clothes...and your smell...that you live in a camp in the forest.”

The bandit nodded furiously.

“Are there any more of you? I would hate for you to have to take a bolt to the throat for me.” Anton said sarcastically.

The bandit got the message.

“It's just me left. The camp is just over that way. It's not far.”

Anton got up and looked to Verona. She seemed a little distant as the blood dripped off her face, her mouth was slightly agape as the blood dripped onto her lips.

“Verona?” Anton said sternly.

“Ready!” Verona shouted, wiping and drawing the blood off her face and pointing the spear at the bandit.

“Get him up and be ready to kill him should he try anything.”

Verona nodded, raising the impaled spears and the bandit, creating another small shard and keeping it at the neck of the bandit.

Anton jogged over to the hidden bandit and recovered his crossbow and over thirty bolts. The crossbow was quite heavy, though not unsurprising that it was a lump of wood and metal.

Could come in handy. This might be the most valuable thing the bandits own.

He returned to the Ix and led it off the road, Verona pushing the bandit forward.

Four minutes later they arrived at the edge of the camp. It was not much, a few simple leather tents and a fire in the middle. The bandit had been lying about it being deserted, another three bandits were lounging about.

Anton had Verona pull the bandit down before he could say anything. He summoned a fireball and held it close to the bandits head.

“Anything else I should know, or should I burn your face off to see if your lying?”

The bandits face paled as he shook it from side to side.

“No, No. I'm sorry, it's just those three. They're-”

“Is one of them the boss?”

“No. That's me.” the bandit said in a quiet voice.

“Then it doesn't matter if they die.”

“You-”

Anton punched him hard in the back of the head, the bandit fell unconscious.

Remaining crouched down, he summoned another three lightning bombs and threw them at the new bandits. They died without know what killed them.

Both of them entered the camp, finding it looked as basic up close as it had been far away. The tents were open and empty, but Anton knew that there should be a stash somewhere. A quick search revealed a large chest hidden within a particularly dense shrub. He pulled it out, and with the help of Verona's spear, broke open the lock.

Inside was a few hundred copper coins and several silver ones, it would be a good boost to their funds for trading in Maxill. Further searching revealed another two crossbows and almost a hundred extra bolts hidden underneath their beds.

Anton wanted to know if they got them from Maxill. The bandit was still unconscious and he had no intention of waiting for hours for him to wake. With the help of Verona, he dragged him into the camp. He knelt down and placed his hand on the man’s' head.

Tethra, Goddess of Prayer. Restore this man back to consciousness.

Mana flowed into the man. He coughed and spluttered but returned.

“Hey, time to answer some more questions.” Anton said as he kicked the back of the man, “And no lying anymore. I've just about had enough of you.”

“Okay. What do you want to know?” the bandit asked. He looked around and saw that everyone else was dead.

“Your crossbows, did you get them in Maxill?”

“Yes, several hundred copper if you want a rubbish one, like those. A good one will probably cost a whole silver or more.”

“Just a question, but how much would a cheap house cost in Maxill?”

“You looking for a house?” the bandit asked, rewarded with a kick to the chest. “About twenty or thirty silver for basically a shack.”

“Thanks for that, how much further to Maxill?”

“You should reach it before the afternoon, quite a bit before if you go by the old road.”

Verona looked at Anton.

“What do we do with him?” she asked. “Even I know that we can't just let him go. He'll get someone else to come after us.”

“No! No I wont!” the bandit started pleading for his life.

“I would.” Anton replied, summoning a lightning bomb.

“You-” the bandit managed to squeak out before the bomb exploded his head from behind.

Verona sighed loudly, drawing up the blood and putting them into her vials.

“I still don't like having to kill humans that much.” Verona mumbled as she moved to his side.

“You seemed okay with those other bandits.” Anton pointed out.

She shrugged dismissively.

“They were going to kill us, or worse. I just imagined them as more Yellow Goblins and I didn't feel much.”

Verona looked down at the bandit bodies. “Not that I feel much for them right now.”

Anton loaded the two additional crossbows into the cart.

“Let's go, the wolves will be drawn to this massacre and clear it up for us.”

“Okay,” Verona said as she hopped onto the cart. She took one quick glance back at the ruined camp as Anton led them back onto the road.

“By the way,” Verona lent forward towards Anton, “What did you mean by 'she's mine'?”

Anton scratched his beard.

“That was sort of a slip of the tongue...do you not want to be my woman?”

Verona laughed. “Of course I do. I just never thought you would say it out loud.”

He turned backwards, her face was red but she kept her smile.

Under half an hour later, the forest continued to thin out until they stopped completely. A few hundred meters beyond that lay a giant wooden wall, about ten meters high.

It was a city, they had finally reached Maxill.

--------------

Hello again.

They've arrived at the edge of Maxill, so that will be the next chapter.

A few things here and there in this chapter, most importantly they've managed to get some crossbows. Should anything go wrong they will at least have those to copy.

Thanks for reading.

EDIT:

Thank-you Axelord for pointing out my spelling mistakes.

EDIT 2:

Thank-you to everyone else for finding my grammatical mistakes. I blame typing late and spellcheck.

Chapter 023 - The Outer Heart of Maxill

Chapter 023:

Anton and Verona stopped when they exited the forest, looking at the city infront of them.

Maxill looked to be quite a large city, for a medieval one at that. The wall surrounding the city was made from wood, massive vertical  pillars rammed deep into the ground. It looked to be almost four meters high, obscuring the sight of any building except those in the far distance. The wall itself looked old, rotted and damaged in some parts. Only rudimentary repairs were taken in these sections, another few pillars of wood placed against the damaged areas.

Along the top of the wall were a few people walking along and looking out. Guards. They all wore the same type of armor, or at least color, mainly green with a white diagonal stripe going right to left.

Anton looked around finding a gate inside the city almost infront of them. Another four guards, dressed in the same uniform as those on the wall, rested against the gate. They looked completely disinterested in their duty and more concerned about not being in the sun.

With a whip of the rein the beast started to move forward. Almost immediately the guards spotted them. They got off of the gate, grabbed their weapons and looked at each-other, evidently they had not expected to see them coming from the forest.

Anton lightly bumped Verona with his arm.

“We just need to play this cool, and definitely don't mention the bandits. We don't know how they are related to this city. They might be expecting them any moment.”

“Got it...what does 'play this cool' mean?”

“It's an expression. Basically, don't do anything to upset them and keep as quiet as you can.”

Verona nodded, looking forward to the gate.

When they reached twenty meters away one of the guards stepped forward. He raised his hand to tell them to stop. Anton pulled back lightly on the reins, slowing the Ix down to a complete stop when they reached the guards.

“Hello there.” Anton said heartily as the guard approached.

The guard looked a little like the bandits, somewhat dirty but nowhere near as bad. He wielded a spear and iron helmet. Anton guessed that he wore leather or steel plate armor underneath his green and white uniform.

He looked Anton and Verona up and down before looking towards the forest.

“Where have you come from, sir?” he asked. “There haven't been any travelers,” The guards looked at the back of the cart, to the thick blanket covering the back, “Or merchants...since before I was a boy, coming from that way.”

“We have travelled very far and have not seen anything that resembles a city in many winters.” Anton began to explain. “During our travels we have managed to collect quite a few valuable items from the remains of the Kar Kingdom. We wish to trade them in your city.”

All four guards looked at one another like they could not believe their story.

“Just you two?” another guard asked.

Anton and Verona nodded, the guards looking increasingly interested in such an odd tale.

“Yes, just us. We keep quiet and only moved through areas where there are no monsters or beasts. Not being seen is the easiest way to stay alive.”

“You still want to go in?” the guard asked, Anton nodding in response.

One of the guards at the back shook his head and turned away, Anton just able to hear his voice.

“I would stay out on the road if it was me.” he muttered, the other guards either not hearing or ignoring him.

“In that case, we'll need to check what you have in your cart. Check that you're not carrying something that's against the law.”

The guards moved either side and peered underneath.

“Anything in particular that I should be aware of?” Anton asked as the guards rolled back the cloth.

They looked over the crossbows and bolts and made no sign at seeing the blood still on one, he hoped that they would think it was his own.

“Can you please open the chests.” the guard asked, seemingly unaware that they were crested chests. They peered inside, saw that they were empty, and closed them.

“I don't know exactly what you are going to trade, the crossbows might go for a bit, but you don't seem to have anything bad on you.”

Anton felt a wave of relief overcome him. They did not truly take their job seriously, not having checked either of them. It looked like they would get in.

“There is just the final matter...of the entry fee.”

Ah, here we go.

Anton lent back into the cart.

“How much are we talking?”

Anton had several gold coins on him, not to mention the silver and copper coins from the bandits, he hoped it would not be too extreme.

The guard looked around to the other three, who looked on expectantly at him.

“Since it looks like you don't have all that much...four silver.”

Anton looked to the guards, but they remained stoic. He reached into the chests and pulled out four silver coins from a bag, handing it to the guard. They all looked a little surprised, like they had expected Anton to haggle.

Anton pulled out another silver coin and twirled it through his fingers.

“Where would be the best place to buy weapons, armor, clothes and the like?” Anton asked, “I've never been to your city before.”

The guard that muttered before looked down and muttered something again, but the other guard was already speaking.

“Follow the main road from this gate. The second crossroads, take a right. You'll see a sign of a fish and a leaf. He has pretty good prices and a good selection, you should be able to buy most of what you want there.”

Anton handed him the silver coin which he pocketed very quickly.

“Thank-you very much.” Anton replied.

“Open the gate!” the guard yelled out, the gate groaning as it was opened.

Anton whipped the Ix again, driving it slowly into the city.

Verona leaned towards Anton when they were out of ear-shot.

“Do you believe that, about that fish and leaf place being a good place.”

“I honestly don't know. But it was bought at a decent price from them. We also can't just be wandering the city all day. We'll just have to trust them for now and make proper decisions after we go there.”

---[]---

The inside of Maxill was far worse than the outside. Dilapidated and ruined buildings were the first thing that greeted them. It reminded him of Verona's old house, a thought mirrored in her face. Their cart bumped and jerked around so Anton had to slow it down even further. The road's were not maintained in any sense of the word, grasses, weed and shrubs grew through the dirt.

Along the sides of the road were people, huddled outside the buildings, wrapped in whatever piece of cloth they could find. If he was honest, they looked worse than the people back at Atros when he first arrived. Hearing the sound of a cart they thrust their hands out, begging for money. He would have liked to help, but admission that he had money to spare on the poor would have hounded him for the rest of the time they were here and make them bigger targets for thieves.

Not a single cart passed them or was within sight as they traveled through the first crossroads. The city looked quite bleak. Anton did not have a clue as to why it was so bad, but there were a few possible reasons bubbling away in his mind.

Anton pulled the cart to a halt when he reached the second crossroads. In front of them, past a third crossroads, was another wall. Unlike the outer wall, this was made from stone and well maintained. Not a single piece of grass or greenery attached itself to the wall. Guards, of more clean and ornate uniforms, stood infront of the gate. They watched Anton and Verona but made no move other than to walk infront of the gate. Outsiders were not welcome inside the inner wall.

Past the stone wall, large wooden buildings stood proud and tall. These were kept in good condition as well. Beyond them, at the center of the city was a mansion, one that would put the nobility of Earth to shame. A gigantic square building stood in the center with another four large towers on each of the corners. There were hundreds of windows decorating the white exterior, the black tilled roofs girdled with gold. It oozed excess and greed. He did not want to know what the probable garden would look like. Why the outer sections looked so poor started to make sense.

Not wanting to gawk, Anton led the Ix towards the merchants building.

It was not hard to find, the sign of the fish and leaf stuck out over the road. The building itself appeared to be in good condition, as did the surrounding buildings.

Anton pulled the cart up next to the building and both hopped off. There were many people watching them, many with the sunken face of the desperate. Anton was regretting the decision to not take a few more villagers with him.

“Verona? I want you to stay by the door and make sure nobody tries to steal our cart. If one of them tries something, make a lot of noise to get me and try stop them without killing them. I cannot stress that last part enough.”

Verona nodded.

“Don't want to start something bad. I understand.”

She hopped off the cart and lent against it, keeping her spear in both hands. The people seemed hesitant to approach, especially as she had been left to guard the cart.

Anton was about to open it when the door flung open, nearly hitting his outstretched hand and feet. Out came four large men, not the haggard and desperate kind. These wore a sash of green and white over normal villager clothes, but also had another mark on them. Before he could get a good look they pushed past him, Anton keeping his hands close so as to not loose his bags of gold. They tried nothing but did not look very happy.

Is that a 'shakedown' or something? If it is, these people's greatest threat are themselves.

Waiting until they had clearly left and were not coming back, he entered the building.

It looked like a jewellery store with large display cabinets showcasing a wide variety of items, weapons, jewellery and armor. There was broken glass all over the ground, with most of it infront of the glass cabinets that looked like they had been smashed in.

The room was very brightly lit, despite there not being many windows and those few were barred to prevent people entering. In each corner of the room and in the center were small octahedron shaped white crystals. They gave off a warm light, not so bright as to hurt his eyes.

A clunk from near the back of the room brought Anton's attention back down. It was a man clutching at his hand. With a groan he removed a shard of glass, dropping the bloody shard on the ground.

He was a middle aged man of average height and build, dark brown eyes and hair along with a roughly cut short beard. The clothes he wore looked quite old and worn. Anton thought looked to be a man of gentle disposition. Probably why he was being bullied.

Anton coughed lightly, the man stopped and looked up at him. He looked down to his bloody hand, knelt down and recovered a rag which he wrapped around tightly his hand.

“My apologies sir,” the man spoke with a soft tone, though unlike Bertram it felt like it was put on, “We've had a few incidents of late with some...disgruntled members of our community.”

“You seem rather calm about this whole thing,” Anton looked him in they eyes, “Like this happens often.”

The man returned his stare, frowning a little.

“You're not from around here, are you?”

Anton held his gaze.

“No. I'm something of a traveler-”

“What made you decide to come here?” he asked in the same tone as the guard outside the city wall.

Anton shrugged as he looked down at the broken cabinet infront of him. He had no idea as to what he was looking at, it might have been a watch but he could not tell.

“It was the first place I came across, though you seem to be in a bit of trouble with those thugs. I presume they were the one that did this?”

A twitch graced the man's face, not that there was any doubt. He sighed as he knelt down and started to pick up the pieces of broken glass, Anton started to help.

“Thank-you for helping me....My name is Lester. And yes, those are the local thugs. They've started asking for more money of late and nobody here except for me can pay anywhere near what they're asking.”

“Whatever passes for law around here is either in on it or deliberately blind.”

Lester laughed.

“My good sir, they're the ones that started it.”

Most of the large shards of glass had been picked up.

“If you're still in business, I have a list of things that I need to acquire.”

Lester's interest spiked, looking up at Anton as he stood up. Anton handed him Jonathan's note. He studied it for a moment before frowning.

“I don't mean to be rude, but these are for a forge. And you do not look like a blacksmith or an apprentice.”

“Correct. Can you get them?”

Lester nodded.

“Yes, but it won't be that cheap. Some of these are rare and prices around here tend to be...high.”

Anton leant on a solid part of the glass cabinet.

“How much are we talking?”

Lester shook his head side to side as he thought.

“Two hundred and fifty silver at least.” he looked a little nervous, probably thinking that Anton would not have the money.

He did not nearly have anything like that in silver, but more than enough in gold.

“I have a gold coin, if you can give give me the change. I need to get some other things like crossbows, bolts and shoes for my lady friend out there.”

Lester's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when Anton said he had a gold coin, he did not know if he had heard the rest of his list.

“Hello?” Anton asked awkwardly.

“Oh, yes,” Lester brought himself back to reality, “I also have those other things in stock out that back should...should you still want them.”

Anton reached into one of the small pockets of gold, bringing out a single gold coin. Greed was not on his face, but confusion and suspicion. Such wealth coming from a complete stranger.

The bloody hand was starting to annoy him. Without asking Anton held his hand, turning it over to inspect the wound. Lester watched in amazement as it healed infront of his eyes.

“You healed me...thank-you.”

He rubbed his healed hand as he frowned in disbelief.

“A mage capable of healing in my shop...I...I have a few good crossbows that I could sell to you for a discount.”

Anton smiled, offering his hand for Lester to shake, who heartily returned it.

I think I've just made a good investment.

---[]---

Nearly an hour later they had gathered what they needed. All of Jonathan's gear had been collected apart from a few pieces, they would need to wait until tomorrow. This had filled almost half the cart with boxes storing the items.

Lester had tried to explain what they were, but most looked like they had nothing to do with working a forge. One looked like a metal spider with a gem embedded in the middle. Anton was told that it somehow uses Earth Mana to help make a fire hotter with less fuel, by some process that confused Anton. Having his mind grounded in the science of Earth was hampering his knowledge of this world. Regardless, it was what he was asked to get so bought it.

The remaining space had been filled with eight good crossbows and four hundred bolts, all kept in large wooden boxes packed with hay and dried grasses. These crossbows where basically brand new, unlike the slightly rusted bandit ones. After healing Lester and telling him to keep the change he had given Anton the best ones in his possession.

Verona was ecstatic to finally receive a pair of boots. They had a black, hard and thick material as the base, probably some sort of treated leather, with thinner leather forming the rest of the boot halfway up her calves. Leather straps were used to tighten the boots and tied off with small wooden toggle. She seemed very happy to receive them. Anton got a pair for himself for himself, it felt so much better than his worn Earth shoes.

It was a little odd that Lester had such a variety of goods, but Anton put it up to having a diverse portfolio.

After tying down the thick cloth covering the cart, Lester walked out to them.

“I'm very sorry, but I'll still need some time to get the remaining pieces. Just come back tomorrow...there's still the matter of your change.” Lester seemed like the kind of person that did not like to owe people.

“Keep it.” Anton waved his concern away. “By the looks of it you'll need it to replace the glass.”

He still looked a little annoyed about the incident with the thugs.

“You're going to need a place to stay.” He raced back into the shop and returned with a few silver coins. “Head that way until you see a large building with a rat on the front. It's a good Inn that will keep your goods safe. Even the thugs know to stay away from there. The woman in-charge is very strong.”

“Thank-you. I'll see you tomorrow.” Anton nodded in appreciation before whipping the reins to get the Ix moving again.
They traveled through more desolated streets before finding the Inn. It too looked to be in comparatively good shape. To the side appeared to be a barn, presumably where they would be able to store the Ix and their cart. Outside of the door were two very large young men sitting on some chairs. They did not wear the green and white uniforms, instead normal clothes but rested two very large steel maces on their laps.

Their eyes met, but they did not seem hostile. Rather they seemed cautious and wary, like everyone else in this city.

“I've been told this is an Inn.” Anton asked the two. “Somewhere where we can rest and keep our goods safe.”

The men nodded. “Aye, this is an Inn....”

“Well, in that case, I would like to stay the night.”

One of the men got up and went inside, emerging a minute later with a woman. She appeared to be middle aged, the lines of worry and work covering her face. A quite tall and large frame showed off her large muscles and strength, Lester was right about her looking intimidating. She had her sleeves rolled up, exposing may scars and tattoos. Keeping her arms folded she looked over the both of them.

“My boys say you want to stay the night?” the woman asked in an unusually deep baritone.

“Yes.”

Her whole demeanor and attitude changed in a second.

“Well in that case, come on in.” she turned to one of the men, “Open the barn would you?”

He nodded and opened the barn, Anton leading the Ix inside. The woman followed him in. There was enough room for several carts but, apart from theirs, it was completely empty. Some straw had been left out, which the Ix quickly started to eat.

“The name's Isobell.” she said as she held her hand out for Anton to shake. “You don't look like you're from around here.”

Anton stifled a laugh. “I've been hearing that all day. My name is Anton and this is Verona.”

“Well Anton, you'll be safe here. My boys Bill and Ted make sure that none of those rough thugs come here looking for trouble.” the two boys nodded as their mother said their names.“You haven't got into any trouble, have you?”

“Not yet. I don't intend to stay longer than tomorrow anyway.” Anton said as he helped Verona down.

Isobell led them through a side door as her boys locked the door from both sides. Inside was a bar, many tables and chairs, all deserted. Beyond the bar was a set of stairs that led upstairs and an open door to the side that led to a kitchen of sorts. A small fire burned underneath a small pot, the faint smell of cooking meat filling the air.

Anton thought he heard her sigh at the sight. She walked around to the back of the bar, placed three empty small glasses and reached for a bottle behind her. It was large and full with a blue liquid. She motioned for them to take a seat on the front of the bar.

“This is the pride of one of the nobles of the Kingdom.” she explained as she poured out the liquid. “The Blue Devil they call it, one of my favorites. I made a promise to have some the next customer I had....that was almost twenty days ago.”

A melancholic look overcame her face.

Must be really tough here. This could be a good chance to get some information.

All three downed their small portion. It tasted a little like blueberries, but the alcoholic after-taste was powerful. Verona coughed and spluttered, only having had a few sips of Zac's alcohol back at Atros.

“Yeah, it's the good stuff.” Isobell said as Verona calmed herself down.

“You said that you thought we weren't from here?” Anton asked, trying to change to direction of the conversation, “Do we not dress right?”

Anton wanted to know.

“No. It's just that you're here,” she shook her head and downed another glass, pouring another round, “Nobody would be here if they could. This is where everything bad seems to end up.”

“I've been out of civilization for some time, can you tell me what's happening?”

“Sure,” she walked around and grabbed a stool for herself, “I just want to check that you have some money first.”

Anton reached into his bags, pulling out ten silver coins.

“This should be more than enough right?.” he said as he placed the coins onto the bar.

Isobell looked at the coins, shocked at the amount of wealth being offered. She took it off the bar, keeping an eye on Anton.

“I suppose I'll start from the beginning.” she pocketed the coins and reached underneath for three small bottles of a black liquor, pouring it into the empty glasses.

Verona moved to drink the whole glass in one go.

“Calm down Verona. You don't want to go too fast with this stuff.” Anton explained as he stopped her from drinking. Verona nodded and took a little sip. Anton took one as well, it tasted like licorice.

“This city, Maxill, is on the far east of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Eight thousand people call this hole their home, including me. I'm guessing that you came from the east? Otherwise you wouldn't be asking.”

Anton nodded, there was nothing in it for him to lie.

“The Kar Kingdom then,” she poured herself another drink, “That place really fell apart near the end. My grandmother told me how bad it got, everyone taking whatever they wanted from the people. Corruption and vice wherever you went. Here isn't much better if you ask me. We're heading for the same end.”

“Are all the cities like this?” Anton asked as he took another sip of the drink.

Isobell shook her head. “Thankfully no. If the nobles mess up too much they will be removed by the royals...and that's the problem.”

“Someone who's related to the royalty is running this place,” Verona said, looking to both of them, “Right?”

“Yes.” Isobell continued. “The lady of the land, Duchess Belinda, is a close relation of the queen's family. That makes her untouchable, we're so far away from the capital that nobody with bother to listen to our complaints. Most of think it's made her snap, being so far away other people like herself. She wears all these elegant dresses and speaks with the most condescending voice. You can't miss her.”

Isobell took another swig.

“She takes everything that she can from this village, using those loyal to her as her personal soldiers. If anyone stands up they get beaten and their property burned.”

“Everyone inside that inner wall?”

“Yeah. They're all on her side, to varying levels. Anyone that could resist has been bought out or bullied. Even the guardsmen, though some are still good.”

“But people like you and Lester are still able to resist.”

“Hah!, that old fool. He still thinks he can fight.”

“He didn't look like it before, a whole bunch of people left his place after breaking all his cabinets.”

Isobell shook her head.

“He's going to get himself killed if he keeps it up. They'll keep coming back until they've got their money.”

Silence fell over the room, only the thunk of the glasses being placed onto the wooden bar.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“I think that covers enough for now. It seems that you all have many problems.” Anton said, downing the whole glass. “Actually, I'm feeling quite tired. Do you have somewhere that we can sleep.”

“Absolutely. The Limping Rat has the best beds outside the inner wall.” Isobell triumphantly stated.

“The what?” Verona asked.

“The Limping Rat. I didn't choose the name.” Isobell explained as she led them upstairs.

The floorboards creaked and groaned under their weight. Like everything else, it was old but kept as clean as possible. There were six doors, probably the rooms of the Inn. Isobell opened one near the end. Inside was a large bed along with a wooden cabinet and wardrobe.

“This is the best room we have. I hope it's up to your standards.” Isobell said with a hint of hesitation.

“It looks great.” Anton replied. “Is there a dinner meal included with this.”

Isobell nodded.

“Yes there is. I'll come and get you when it's time.”

She flashed a smile as she closed the door.

Verona walked over to the bed, sitting and bouncing up and down.

“It's not as good as ours but it's so much better than sleeping on the ground.” she said as she lied on the bed, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation.

Anton pressed onto the bed, Verona was correct in her judgement. He lay on the bed next to her, seeking out her hand and held it onto his chest.

“I don't like this place. Everyone looks so tired.” she turned and looked at him, “But, we got most of what we wanted. Are we going to try and get some people to come with us back to Atros?”

Anton was not honestly sure about that. He felt while some would not need much encouragement considering their current conditions, it would probably upset the current rulers. They would need every person to continue to extort, fewer people would mean less money.

“I'm not sure, I hope I'll haven an answer by tomorrow.”

---[]---

The next day Anton still did not have an answer. Isobell had tried to give some of the money back but Anton had insisted that she keep in. In return she gave them a full dinner and breakfast.

As they reversed the Ix out of the barn, Isobell came up to them.

“Well, Anton and Verona, it has been a short time but it was good to meet you.” she said as they hopped onto the cart.

“I hope that things go better for you. If we do come back we'll swing by here.” he said, waving and whipping the reins.

They lumbered through the deserted streets. Now, early in the morning, there were a few people actually trying to engage in trade but they were very few in number.

When they arrived at Lester's building it was surrounded by eight thugs, all wearing the green and white sash. None were trying to actively enter but they seemed to be trying to stop anyone that may want to.

Anton brought the cart to a halt just outside, the thugs stopping and staring at them. They all stared at him as menacingly as the could, Anton ignoring them.

He started to walk towards the door but was stopped by a thug grabbing his arm tightly.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

The thug seemed dumbfounded that Anton actually asked.

“You can't go in there.” he said, puffing out his chest, Anton felt it made him look weaker and over-compensating.

“Why not?”

“He hasn't paid his...taxes.”

The thugs laughed. They must have always been able to bully the people into submission.

“That means you should have no problem with me. I bought something from him and I need to collect it.”

Anton tried to move forward but the thug moved to block him.

You're getting annoying.

Anton focused the mana near where the thug was holding him and formed lightning, not out of his hand but from his arm. He made it with enough strength to shock him but not kill, just like at Atros.

He released the mana, a slight crackle emanated from his arm. The thug remained perfectly still until he slowly started to fall over, his body going limp. Everyone watched on in surprise as the thug feel unconscious onto the ground.

“What did you do?!” a thug roared at him, charging and throwing his fist.

Anton backed off, catching the throw as he moved back to take out some of the impact. He formed the same magic again, the crackle emitting. This thug continued forward and slammed into the wall, breaking his nose.

The others looked on shocked.

Verona had jumped down from the cart and had her spear ready to attack. One of the thugs made the connection between the two and moved to attack her. He was rewarded with the but of the spear colliding with his knee, a sickening crack sounded through the air as it broke and folded in.

He screamed in pain as he rolled about on the dirt.

“You wanna' keep going?” Verona asked the thugs. She was not using her power but was still intimidating, despite her lack of height.

The remaining five thugs no longer had the strength to fight. They held their hands up to signify they would not continue and dragged their friends away, towards the inner gate.

“Verona. You might want to get some blood and quickly. Hide one of your containers and put the blood in there.”

“Where?” Verona asked as she ran up to him, grabbing his hand.

“In there.” Anton pointed between her breasts.

“Oh, okay.” Verona puffed her cheeks a little but did not argue.

“It's a decent enough hiding spot for now. Hang on, better use your power inside.”

Anton opened the door, finding Lester hiding behind a wooden cabinet.

“Are they gone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Anton replied, holding his hand out for Verona, “Though they kind of got beaten up for their trouble.”

“Are you insane?!” Lester asked angrily, the calm business-like tone from yesterday gone.

“Possibly. We have dealt with things far more powerful than a few guards.”

Verona glowed red, cut into his hand and drew up the blood. Lester looked horrified at the sight though was too stunned to speak.

“Is she...is she a Blood Berserker?” his voice was a mix of fear and awe.

“Yes.” Anton replied.

Is that what blood mages are called here.

“I've never seen one before.” Lester walked to them. “If you don't mind me asking, how powerful are you?”

Verona shrugged.

“I've never seen another mage apart from Anton before, so I don't know.”

Lester rubbed his head. He knew that Anton could heal, though Anton had not confirmed it, but knew nothing about the lightning and fire powers he held. Thinking over it, he could probably burn the entire city down with not much effort.

“Do you have those pieces, we'll need them right now.”

He scurried away, immediately retrieving three small boxes.

“These are what you need. Now, get out of here before they come back.”

“Thank-you Lester.”

Anton reached into his pocket and tossed him a gold coin. Lester was gobsmacked by the frivolous display of wealth but accepted in regardless.

They both started to head outside.

“Okay Verona, let's load these up and...ah, crap.”

Outside, waiting around the cart, were fifty thugs and the same number again of guards. These looked just like the ones protecting the inner gate, ones that were part of the corruption of this city.

A guard moved forward. This one had a gold pin on his uniform of a wolf's head surrounded by a wreath, he looked to be important.

“What is your name?” he asked gruffly.

“Anton.”

“Anton, Duchess Belinda would like to see the both of you. For your own good I advise you that you come willingly.” They all clutched their weapons tighter.

Anton looked about the crowd, seeing the one that Verona injured hiding in the back.

It's too quick for her to know what we've done to her thugs. It's even too quick for them to have come from the thugs calling them, they must have been planning to do this anyway. Someone out here yesterday must have told them what we had bought and that we were staying at least another day. Who knows what else they may have planned.

“Of course. I would like to bring my companion and my cart as well.” Anton asked as he slowly moved towards them.

“You may.” the guard replied. Anton figured that he meant he may lead the Ix but not ride on the cart.

Verona looked a little worried at him. He lent down to her ear.

“Just keep your head calm and if things get too bad, we can just break out of this.”

She nodded and stayed very close to him.

They walked in silence as the reached the crossroads before the inner wall. From either side, dozens of guards appeared. The ones escorting Anton stopped and twitched in response, they were not friends.

“What is going on here?” one of the new guards said loudly. This man had a full grey beard, as in fact, did most of the others. They even looked fairly old, maybe in their late fifties at least, while none of Anton's escorts would have been past thirty.

“The Duchess wants to see this man, Hemiskr.” the lead guard replied. “You shouldn't get in the way.”

The guard known as Hemiskr frowned but did not move forward.

He and his fellow guards must the good ones Isobell was talking about.

As Anton walked past he caught a glance from Hemiskr. It was full of worry, but there was something else. Self-loathing or regret perhaps, Anton did not know. He started muttering something, Anton used a prayer to improve his hearing for a few seconds.

“We can't keep going on like this.” Hemiskr muttered.

It filled him with a little worry as the gates opened and they were ushered in.

------------------

Hello.

Some important characters for the next arc have been introduced, another few still to go.

Now they are in potentially greater trouble than before. Splashing around so much cash would defiantly bring attention, and now it's about to bite them.

So, hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 024 - The Righteous Path

Chapter 024:

As they walked through the gate and into the inner section of Maxill it quickly became apparent where the wealth of the city had been kept.

The streets were completely flat and lined with stone, the cart barely making a rattle as it moved forward. Every building was new and many seemed to be in the state of being rebuilt, larger and more ornate. There were not that many buildings between the wall and the outside of the manor, only about half the number that were between each of the cross-roads.

A few people sat outside the buildings, dressed in flamboyant multicolored clothing. To Anton they looked like they had just come from a Victorian era ball. They pointed towards Anton then to Verona, whispering and chuckling behind hand fans. Were they worried that they might hear or did they feel that far above them that seeing them speak would be an insult, Anton had no idea.

They continued walking in silence as they walked off the cobblestone road and onto a gravel road leading up to the front of the mansion. Small and immaculately maintained square hedgerows lay either side of the road continuing both ways to form a circle around the mansion. Large patches of lush grass and small ponds lay in these areas.

The thugs stopped at the gravel entrance, the guards being the ones to continue.

An elderly man waited at the front of the main entrance, a small marble set of stairs. His uniform looked like a posh butler. Many women wore full length maid uniforms and stood either side.

Wow. Really?

The guards stopped when the cart was just infront of them and waved for Anton to do the same.

The butler walked down the steps and towards Anton, stopping a few meters from him.

“Greetings, my name is Alfred. The Duchess Belinda would be delighted if you, Anton, and you female companion, would join us. There are many things that she wishes to discuss with you.”

He spoke with a calm and controlled voice, befitting a butler.

“I was not aware that we were making that much of an impact on your city.” Anton replied as he and Verona hopped of the cart.

“My lady had eyes and ears everywhere, and things in this city have been stagnate and 'boring' to her.”

“Well, I suppose that since we're already here, we should at least have a talk. What will happen to our cart?”

The butler waved a maid down.

“She, with your permission, will escort your cart to a shaded area,” the butler pointed to one of the few trees within the mansion, just off the hedgerow wall, “And take care of it for your stay.”

The maid nodded, moving forward and grabbing the reins of the Ix. It snorted but decided to move after Anton worked on calming it.

“Make sure you take good care of her. She's been a good beast.” Anton told the maid.

“I shall.” she replied with a courtesy, leading the Ix away.

“I'm afraid I must ask you to surrender your weapons.” the butler asked, his face full of apology.

Anton took a moment before answering.

“I'm afraid that won't be necessary. We have no hostile intentions, even when we have been attacked.”

The mere mention of the incident outside Lester's shop caused his face to twitch.

“I must insist-”

Anton took out his sword, handing it to the butler.

“I'm probably more dangerous without something like this to distract me.”

The butler looked unimpressed by Anton's boast. As the butler took the sword Anton summoned five lightning bombs around him. It took a second for it to register on their faces. The guards lowered their weapons, but Anton raised his hand, the lightning bombs dissipating.

“I don't need weapons like this in order to be dangerous.”

Life returned to the butler, handing back the sword.

“And...what of your friend?” the butler looked towards Verona.

Anton did not know whether to reveal her status as a blood mage. He decided to keep it a secret, for now.

“She cannot summon lightning like I can, but I'm sure you're aware that she's much stronger than she looks. She won't be surrendering her weapon either.”

The butler pursed his lips and nodded.

“Very well. I ask you both to refrain from using using them.”

“Not a problem. We will keep them close.” Anton said as they were both led into the mansion.

Some of the guards, the seemingly best dressed followed them. They kept their distance though.

The inside of the mansion was more impressive and garish than the outside; white marble floors, immaculately crafted furniture from wood as dark as Verona's spear, and gold plating on all the furnishings. In front of them was a giant twin marble staircase, straddling a large fountain constantly flowing with water. In the ceiling was a chandelier, hundreds of the light crystals interconnected but suspended in air. At the top of the cluster was a large light pink circular crystal, about the size of a small child. Whatever it was, it was providing the lift for the cluster.

The sides of the wall were decorated with giant paintings, all of heroic combat and of the Duchess's family. Underneath them were many doors, leading off to the many rooms of the mansion.

Many maids scuttered about, all carrying large feather dusters, cleaning and re-cleaning everything in sight.

On top of the balcony, the second level, were four soldiers. These wore completely encompassing steel plate armor, decorated in the green and white colors of the Qaiviel Kingdom. On the center of the chests was a large wolf's head surrounded by a wreath. It appeared to be their insignia. Anton did not know what the insignia of the Kar Kingdom was, though they would need to change it now.

Alfred brought them to a halt, telling the guards they could go and leaving the soldiers on the balcony.

“If you would like to take a seat, I will check on preparations for the meal that Duchess Belinda is preparing.”

To the side was a couch, made from a lighter wood and a dull red leather. They both walked over and took their seat. The leathers squeaked and the wood groaned underneath their weight.

Anton moved up and down while Verona felt the slightly rough texture with her hands.

“I don't think this has been used before.” Anton said as he leant into the back of the couch.

“It's quite comfy.” Verona added. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the softness.

“And expensive. If the cost of leather in my world is anything to go off of, this is probably worth more than most of what a thousand of those outside the wall have earned in a year.”

Verona looked a little nervous about marking it, so she remained as motionless as she could. These pieces of furniture were probably meant for show rather than purpose.

Anton leant over to Verona, bring himself close enough so that the maids would hopefully not be able to hear.

“Ver, I may have to lie or stretch the truth about a few things. If I do, I need you to remain quiet and not make any sudden motion. There shouldn't be many things, but I'm telling you just in case.”

Verona nodded in agreement.

The soldiers kept their eyes on them as a few minutes passed, all the while the maids were continuing to frantically clean.

In the distance he could hear someone approaching from the upper level. Alfred emerged and walked down to them.

“The lunch is prepared. I have been instructed to bring you through.”

“I hate to say this,” Anton said as they both got up from the couch, “But I feel that we both are a little under dressed for the occasion.”

Alfred looked them both up and down.

“My lady understands that you have been traveling for many winters, so you both lacking high quality clothes is understandable. If this were a more formal meeting we would have to provide you both with appropriate clothing.”

“That's good then.”

Alfred took another look back to them, he eyes resting on Verona.

“Your lady friend wearing her armor will also be acceptable, especially as she is a soldier of some skill.”

Verona looked down at her leather armor but said nothing.

Alfred led them through one of the doors to the left, seemingly identical to the others. Anton had no idea how he could not get them mixed up, though decades of service probably helped.

The inside was a narrow corridor, smaller paintings of similar acts hanging off the side. The corridor turned to the right and towards the center of the mansion.

A few meters beyond that they arrived at the large dinning area.

A massive table lay in the center, ten chairs with two at either end. The table was covered in a red and white cloth, candles and many sets of silver plates and cutlery. Above that was another two floating chandeliers. Everything looked incredibly expensive.

Oddly, there were no paintings in this section, perhaps the Duchess did not approve of small talk during her meals.

At the back of the room where three maids. Alfred waved to them and they moved to the back of the chair at the head of the table and two to the side. They waited motionless behind them, even their breathing appeared to have been sculpted to provide the illusion of motionlessness.

“The Duchess will be with you in a moment, if you would like to take a seat and help yourself to some drinks. I will return with the Duchess.”

As Alfred began speaking, the maids pulled out the chairs without making any noise.

“Thank you.” Anton said as he moved to take his seat and motioned for Verona to do the same. Verona rested her spear against the wall.

Once they had sat the maids pushed them forward. Anton turned to get a look at them but they kept their eyes straight down and refused to look up as they returned to their original positions.

In front of them were many glass bottles containing, from the look of it ,wine.

What it if it is poisoned or drugged? Can I use the prayer power on that, or myself?

Anton moved his hand onto Verona, she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Okay. Thethra, Goddess of Prayer. Make both of our bodies immune to poisons and drugs until this time tomorrow.

Something within him worked. Half his mana disappeared but it appeared to have worked. Verona squeezed his hand in return.

“Did you-” she asked in a whisper.

Anton nodded in return. She could probably not tell what he had done but could tell that something had changed.

With, hopefully, those potential issues dealt with he reached for a bottle. He could not understand the significance of some of the words on the bottle, but they all looked very expensive.

When his fingers touched the bottle, a maid rushed forward and grabbed the bottle for he could. She poured it into both of their glasses without any splashing or gurgling.

“Thank you.” Anton said, hoping to get something more out of the maid but she made no signal that she even heard him.

He looked to Verona who shrugged.

Both took a sip of the wine, Verona having learned from last night about overdoing it. A mixture of sweetness and an indescribable number of fruits filled his mouth with just the sip. Many of the fruits of this world made no sense compared to those of Earth. There may be one grape-like fruit that produced this flavor, or it may not even be a grape, he just had no idea.

While he was contemplating the complexities of the different foods of this world, a knock came from a door infront of them. Anton quickly glanced behind, finding there was no door there. They may have been seated there for dramatic effect.

Alfred emerged out of the slightly ajar door, holding it open as he straightened himself up.

“Anton and Verona, may I have the pleasure of introducing Duchess Belinda of Maxill.” Alfred said as he opened the door.

Anton pushed his chair back as silently as he could and stood up, Verona copying. He did not know the customs of the Qaiviel Kingdom, but it should be polite to not be sitting when their host arrived. Alfred looked a little impressed, like he did not expect Anton to know such a thing. Now he was thinking that quite a bit of this was a stage and a test of his character and knowledge.

Alfred opened the door fully, the Duchess emerging. She was quite tall, a bit less than a head shorter than him, with red shoulder length flowing hair. Her face was sharp and she held it high, almost as if she was always trying to look down upon everyone. She wore a large dress, a Victorian style one, bright red and white dress that completely covered nearly every inch of her skin except for her neck and face. White gloves covered her hands and some sort of gem encrusted high-heel shoes, her dress was high enough to show them off as she stood still.

“Hello,” she spoke with a well practiced and smooth voice, “I have heard quite a bit about you. I am glad to meet you in person.”

Anton bowed slightly while smiling, Verona copying his bow.

Alfred walked to the head of the table and pulled out the chair for the Duchess.

As she took her seat so did Anton and Verona, Alfred remaining close behind the Duchess.

“Duchess Belinda, thank you for being our host today.”

She seemed surprised but tried her best to hide a smile.

“Please call me Belinda, It will become quite tiresome if you do not.”

“Belinda, while I am honored that you would treat us today, I must confess that I cannot understand the reason.”

Verona took another sip of the wine.

Belinda smiled. With a simple glance to the side Alfred moved forward and poured a glass for her, from the same one as Anton. She seemed quite pleased with his choice.

“I can tell that you are a traveler, from lands far beyond that accursed forest.” she leant back, enjoying the aroma of the wine, “At times, I find this incredibly...boring. Nothing of note has happened here in a great number of winters.”

Is that because all the cities' wealth is hoarded in this building?

“And, out of that, you arrive. Flaunting a great deal of wealth always attracts attention. I want to know who you are and what you want.”

She looked him straight in the eye.

I think I'll let some things remain a secret.

“Who I am, is a little complicated. I honestly don't know.”

Belinda and Alfred threw a quizzical look, Verona remained silent.

“One day I awoke in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely nothing to me but my name. I had no idea about anything, except that I could somehow use magic. I'm sure that Alfred told you?”

Belinda smiled lightly.

“Your little display of creating lightning in the air without chants was truly impressive.”

Her fingers lightly rapped on the table.

“I know it may take us away from your story, but could you show me?”

Anton did not see the harm in making a few lightning bombs. He held out hand and summoned a lightning ball the size of his fist. Belinda and Alfred looked joyously surprised, he even caught the maids taking a glance.

“Impressive, truly impressive. And you didn't even need a charm...” Belinda leant back into her chair. “Please, continue.”

“I was lost and confused, spending many days lost in the grasslands of what I've later learned to the remains of the Kar Kingdom. On the third day I was thirsty, tired, running for my life and still had no idea as to what was happening. Then, out of nowhere, I found a lovely angle that saved my life.”

He leant over and squeezed Verona's hand. Despite him lying about the circumstances of their meeting, she flushed a little at him actually saying that out loud. It dawned upon him that he had not actually told her that he loved her back, something that he vowed to do the next moment they were alone together. He hoped that Belinda saw a couple in love.

He turned his attention back, finding that Belinda was looking slyly at them. Anton removed his hand and took another sip of the wine.

“Over the next few days, I was brought back to health with her and the rest of her community. There were some battles with the local monsters, but we prevailed.”

“Sounds rather rough.” Belinda said as she took another sip of he wine. “Though it does not explain what you are doing here.”

“True. The night after the final battle I had, there's no other way of putting it, a vision.”

Belinda looked a little suspicious and Alfred more-so.

“I must admit, that I would not believe it either if I was told that. But I have no intention of trying to convince you. What I saw was nothing less than the total annihilation of all life, brought by creatures that not even the gods know of as to where they came from. Creatures of teeth, fire and hatred.”

They both looked a little more serious. Anton did not want to use the word demon, for it might bring the unknown element of religion into the discussion.

“I pray to anything that will listen that I am wrong, but I see the visions more clearly every night.”

“Can these things you see be beaten?” Alfred asked. Belinda nodded, taking no offense that her butler had asked a question.

“From what I've seen, yes.”

“And you want our forces to help form an army against these creatures?” Belinda asked. She seemed hesitant about committing anything to his cause.

“Actually no,” Anton replied, Belinda tilting her head, “We are building a fortress against the creatures, but we need more people to help. A lot more people, and resources. That is why we have come here, to trade for them.”

“Resources are easy enough to get, should you have more money that you flaunted. I don't know how your little community got a hold of so much...But people is a little more difficult. You wish to buy some of my bondsmen?”

Anton nodded.

You run a feudal serf type system? Is that was a bondsmen is?

He knew that serfs were a form of servitude, akin to a slave but with somewhat better rights. It seems that they were another commodity here. He guessed that's what a bondsmen.

That may make things easier.

Belinda brought down Alfred and whispered something in to his ear.

“This seems the prefect time to bring out lunch.” Belinda said as Alfred left through yet another identical door.

Belinda righted herself in her chair and took another sip of the wine.

“I take it that you have something to trade for my people?” Belinda asked.

“Before I get to that, how many people are under your authority?”

Belinda hesitated, pondering as to whether or not she should answer.
“The title of Duchess is not bestowed upon someone that controls just a city, especially one like Maxill. I also control five other cities, smaller granted, and almost a hundred smaller villages. In total I think I have a little over forty thousand people under my control. About thirty thousand are my bondsmen.”

“While I was here, I could not help but note that the situation of Maxill is a little...dire...economically.”

Anton tried his best to say it but received a frown from Belinda.

“I think there is a way that we can help each-other.”

“How?”

“Judging from your proximity to the forest, that I'm guessing that your main exports from here are meats and timber?”

Belinda nodded.

“Yes they are, how did you know that?”

“Given your closeness to the forest, I presumed that was your main export. Some of the trees in the forest looked like they had been cut down recently and I saw evidence of hunting. Anyway, your city looks like it's in need of some much needed funding. And for an exchange, I can give that to you.”

“I see. I give you some of my bondsmen in return for money.” Belinda did not exactly look to be entirely impressed.

“Exactly. Now it comes down to what would be a reasonable exchange.”

She leant back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.

“I like your offer, so far. Many, many people in this city do nothing but take up food and space. They can barely provide for themselves, let alone contribute...Most of them owe more money than they could possibly pay back, it could even free up some resources. I wish to wait for Alfred before figuring out an exact price.”

“Of course.”

Anton felt a tug on his sleeve from Verona. She pulled him down so she could whisper.

“Is everything going right? It seems to be, I'm trying to learn how to do this in the future.”

Anton nodded.

“I think it is. The fact that we're not fighting means we're doing well. I've never had to negotiate something like this.”

Verona chuckled, taking another sip of the wine.

Roughly ten seconds later the door opened, Alfred emerging with three maids in tow. They each carried a plate full of steaming hot food. The room filled with the aroma of pork, beef and something like chicken.

When they placed them infront of them, Verona was basically salivating at the sight.

“Your partner seems to be relishing the chance to eat good food,” Belinda smiled and looked at Verona, “Don't tell me that you've only been eating what you could find?”

“We eat well, though not to this level.” Anton replied.

“In that case, enjoy it to your hearts content.”

---[]---

The meal was more delicious than anything that he had tasted before. He had no idea what everything was made from, he suspected that the pork was actually domesticated and well fed Razor-Pigs, the beef from an Ix and no idea what the chicken was made from.

Everything went quite well. Unfortunately, Verona had never used cutlery before. It took quite a while for her to get the idea, Anton and Alfred having to teach her while Belinda watched on silently.

It dawned upon him that he used cutlery with no issues, something that he should not know how to if he was a vagabond. Belinda did not mention it, but he was sure that she noticed.

When they had finished and the maids had removed the plates and refiled their glasses, the conversation turned back to the original topic.

“I've had some time to think about this Anton, and should the price be acceptable, I will agree to it. This being the first time, It will not be many bondsmen.”

“That is totally understandable. I would be surprised if it was the other way,” Anton replied.

“It is just the matter of the money now...” Belinda brought Alfred forwards so he stood right next to her. “What do you consider to be an acceptable amount for a bondsmen?”

“Since we are talking about the people on the limits of Maxill....fifteen silver each.”

Belinda brought Alfred down and they started talking in whispers. She was taking it seriously.

“We will allow it for thirty silver each.” Belinda replied.

“Make it twenty silver and I'll take fifty now.”

Anton reached into his shirt and pulled out two gold coins.  Any sense of apprehension disappeared the moment the gold emerged. He could no longer could be wasting their time.

“I feel like I should show that I am serious about this.” Anton said as he handed the coins to Belinda.

She seemed unaccustomed to handling money, immediately handing the coins over to Alfred. He held them up to the light and looked at them with a discerning eye.

He looked down and nodded to Belinda.

“Alfred says the gold coins are real. We will arrange fifty people to meet you at the eastern gate. Alfred, also prepare a bill of sale.”

Alfred bowed and was about to leave when Anton stopped him with a cough.

“Before that, does anyone here have mining experience?” Anton asked Alfred, “We'll need as many as we can get.”

He looked away as he went through his mental lists.

“There are some” he replied, “A nickel mine nearby closed recently and they've been out of work. Currently they are working in the fields and harvesting timber. There should still be twenty or so that are still here.”

“If you could convince them to join us I will pay another gold coin.”

Anton pulled out another gold coin and passed it to Belinda. Alfred looked to Belinda, who agreed with him. Alfred bowed again, leaving through another door.

“Well, Anton and Verona, it has been a wonderful time meeting the both of you.” She held the gold coin in her hand, frowning as she looked closely at it. “I would need hundreds of these in order to get to the capital.”

Her eyes turned to Anton.

“Oh, you probably don't know about my situation.”

Anton and Verona shook their head.

“There isn't any people of class or culture, outside of my staff, within days of this city.”

“What about those people inside the second wall?” Anton asked.

Belinda scoffed.

“Those are not bondsmen, just free citizens. They imitate at best. Sometimes it seems the bondsmen are better. No, I wish to meet real people of class and breed. But they are so far away. I would need to buy a city close to the capital in order to just to attend the parties and dances that they hold every night. Only those that are distinguished are allowed to attend.”

Anton remained silent for a time.

“How much is one of these cities?”

“From what I last heard, over a thousand gold coins for a small city.”

“If I may make a suggestion?” Anton asked, Belinda allowed him to continue, “If you were to use the money to invest solely into increasing your production and improving the city and its productivity, and using the money gained from that to do so again, within a few years you should have a good and steady source of income. Can you get a loan of money in your country?”

Belinda nodded.

“There are some lords that could provide that service.”

“You could get one of those, enough to buy a city close enough to reach the capital and continue to have an income from your current cities. You can pay off the debt while still enjoying the luxuries of the capital.”

Belinda leant back and thought about it.

“I will talk it over with Alfred, but it sounds like it could work.”

They both smiled. Anton had no idea if she would actually follow through, not that it mattered, but it showed her that he had some intelligence and initiative.

Alfred returned a few moments later, walking to Belinda's side and whispering into her ear.

“I have assurances that they will have gathered at the eastern side of the city by the time you arrive.”

“Thank you.” Anton bowed a little, “And thank you for having us today, the food was divine. Send  my compliments to the chef.”

Belinda nodded, Alfred pulled out her chair as she stood up. Anton and Verona did the same. Alfred handed Anton a sheet of paper, the writing explaining that he had purchased seventy bondsmen for his employ.

“Oh, one last thing,” Anton began, “there is a merchant in this city that I have done business with.”

“Yes, Lester.”

“Since there are many more things that I will be needing other than people, I need him to be...exempt from any excess...tax collection.”

“Very well.” Belinda said as she lead them to the exit, “That will be done.”

They were led out of the dining room and back into the first room they entered. The maids had left but the soldiers remained.

“I wish you luck in your travels and your goals. If those creatures do attack, make sure you inform us.”

Anton nodded, “I shall. Until next time, Duchess Belinda.”

He and Verona bowed, Belinda returning a respectful nod. They left through the main entrance, finding their cart waiting outside.

The Ix looked quite happy to see them, snorting wildly. Anton patted the creature and calmed it down. They got up onto the cart and started moving back towards the eastern entrances.

“I think that went well.” Verona said.

“Well, we both had to play it safe,” Anton replied, “Truth be told, neither of us knew what each-other was capable of. She could hardly just try and take what we had by force. For all she knew, we could have been the envoys from an empire. If she had reacted rashly, it could have started a war. Or at the least get a lot of people there killed. Besides, we showed that I am a mage and I think they think that there's something more to you as well.”

“Well, the food was nice. I haven't eaten so much in my life...do you think any of it was poisoned?”

Anton shook his head.

“I doubt it. Though, it's just a good precaution. Now I just want to swing by Lester's shop before we leave. Since, hopefully, he should be able to operate more easily, there are more things that I want him to get.”

Verona smiled and leant into him. He was glad that their first meeting with another power had not descended into something stupid.

---[]---

Lester was amazed at what Anton had managed to accomplish. Verona remained at the door again, keeping an eye on the cart.

“I had seen some of the guards heading to the eastern gate. At first I thought they were coming for me, but knowing what happened, I feel a bit better.”

“If things go as they've been planned you should not have to deal with any more of those thugs.”

Lester suppressed a laugh, “If that's true, it will be one of the best days of my life.”

“I need you to make more purchases. We're going to need a lot more weapons and armor.”

Lester retrieved a book from under his desk.

“What sort of things?”

“More crossbows, bolts and armor. I'm not really particular except that they need to be high quality and roughly of the same type.”

“I can get them, I'll need a down payment though.”

Anton handed over three gold coins.

“Get as much as you can with this. We should be back relatively soon to collect them. More of us and more carts, so don't worry about it not fitting into one.”

“Should take about twenty to thirty days, one of the nearby cities has quite a war industry.”

“We also need something else...It'll be a little difficult to explain. It's a powder, one that erupts in flames when set on fire, it might explode into a cloud of smoke. ”

Lester looked into the ceiling before snapping his finger.

“It sounds like your talking about Dragon's Dust. It's this grey powder that seems to do the things you want. I don't know what you would want with that though, most people just see it as a novelty. Performers use it to enhance their acts.”

“Fantastic, I'll-”

“The problem is that it's only made in the Grataeris Empire. With the collapse of the Kar Kingdom, we can't go through that area and it has to come around the mountain range. It's very expensive and it'll be hard to get a hold of. But it's doable.”

“How much do you think you can get?”

“Couple of barrels. But after that it'll be extremely difficult to get any more.”

“That should be fine. Get as much as you can.”

Anton handed him another couple of gold coins, Lester pocketing them.

“Let us hope that your meeting paid off.” Lester said as he moved behind another cabinet. “And that the city will change for the better.”

“I to hope that things go better for this city in the future. It'll be better for our future trade as well. I don't have the Duchess's word that she will actually follow through on rebuilding the city but I am hopeful.”

Lester finished with whatever he was doing and walked to Anton, holding out his hand. Anton shook his hand.

“Good luck Anton. I hope to see you again.”

“Me too. Stay safe Lester.”

With that, they left for the eastern gate.

---[]---

At the eastern gate seventy odd people had gathered, fifty were wearing the decrepit and shambolic clothes of the destitute of Maxill, while the other twenty wore more complete and clean clothes. They also carried with them picks and shovels, they were probably the miners.

A guard spotted them and waved them down. It was one of the four that they had bribed, not the one unhappy with the situation within Maxill.

“Hello Anton, these are the people that Alfred told us to assemble for you.” he looked over at them. “I don't know how you'll keep them all together, but that's not our problem.”

Anton stopped the cart infront of the purchased bondsmen. They looked at him, a mixture of fear and apprehension in their eyes. If he could assure them they would be safe it would be incredibly difficult to bring them back.

“Hello,” Anton spoke to the bondsmen, “My name is Anton, and you will be traveling with us through the forest and to our city beyond. With this piece of paper, everything you owe is gone, so long as you work for me. There is lots of food and we will be safe there.”

They looked quite skeptical.

“And what about the forest?” one asked, “The monsters in there will tear us apart.”

The red crystal would hamper the monsters and beasts but it was still a valid concern.

Anton held up his hand, summoning a dozen lightning bombs.

“I will make sure that you get through unharmed.”

The bondsmen were in awe, some even fell to their knees and started praying, whispering unrecognizable chants.

“There's no need for that.” Anton explained, waving those that had fallen to stand up. "These are for anything that may attack us."

One of those standing back up spoke. “I never thought I'd see another.”

“Another?”

“Another mage. The Duchess...She can use fire magic.”

Anton looked to Verona, who looked just as surprised as he did. He had no idea how magic worked beyond glyphs. Belinda had mentioned chants and charms, but Anton had been too interested in setting up the sale of bondsmen and had forgotten it. It would have been nice to know, but Belinda must have thought that it was a card to keep hidden. On their next visit they would ask.

The man looked to the other bondsmen.

“We'll definitely be safe with him. Did you see how quickly he could make the magic. And the woman he has with him looks pretty tough too.”

Verona chuckled, leaning back into the cart.

“You have no idea.” she mumbled to herself.

“Okay everyone, get ready to depart.”

The bondsmen exited the gate and walked quickly to the forest. Some took a final look back but most did not. He took one final look as well, glad that his first trip had not ended in disaster.

---[]---

Duchess Belinda and her butler, Alfred, sat in a large study room. Paintings hung off the walls and every corner was filled with papers. This room was the heart of Belinda's domain, every coin and thing she owned was detailed here. They sat on two large comfortable leather chairs, both drinking some expensive scotch.

“What a strange couple.” Belinda pondered aloud.

“My lady?”

She stopped and looked to him.

“Two people, one that can use magic and the other wielding that strange Elven spear. Him prattling on about visions...but she seemed to believe it.”

Alfred remained quiet, letting her continue.

“He seemed genuinely concerned about the condition of the bondsmen. Even so far as to giving me advice.”

“Do you wish for those to be enacted?” Alfred asked. Belinda had told him what Anton had said.

“A few. They sound harmless enough and could make us money in the future.”

She took another large sip.

“You're wondering if it was right to sell those people to him?” Alfred asked.

“What we got out of it is well above what they could have made for us in over ten winters. What bothers me is whether or not he's really telling the truth about these creatures, whatever they are. You have not heard anything Alfred?”

“Nothing beyond the usual superstition.” Alfred replies, “The war with the Deweth Clans continues like it has been for the past twenty winters. Other than that, things are the most peaceful they have been within the Broken Kingdoms.”

Belinda hummed in agreement, but it was still bothering her.

“Alfred, before you became our families' butler, you were a mercenary, correct?”

Alfred nodded.

“Do you still know any of them?”

“I keep in contact with a few of my old friends. They run mercenary companies of their own now.”

“I want you to get in touch with the closest one and get them to send out a scouting party through the forest. See if they can find where this fortress of his is being built. I was to know everything I can about my business partner.”

“As you wish.”

Alfred downed the remains of his drink in one go and left the room. Belinda looked outside, over the city that she ruled. Anton had given her scant details as to what the creatures were but the idea that something might be coming for them was an unsettling though, one she carried into her sleep.

---------------------

Hello.

I feel quite a bit more confident about this chapter than the previous one. I didn't try and rush this one out.

A few themes remained, like Duchess Belinda's greed. Instead of the previous stupid fashion, this time it was more subtle, like once money was offered she had no qualms about selling her bondsmen for money.

Thankfully, the next 3 chapters are independent of what happened in Maxill, so while i do those I'll have time to change the plan for this arc. Already got a tentative plan.

So, thanks for reading. And please be kind in your comments.

Chapter 025 - New Tension

Chapter 025:

Anton and his companions were within sight of Atros. He was liking the village appearing in the distance more and more. While nothing in comparison to a city of Earth, it still felt like home.

The journey had been a long trip, seven days of trying to keep many people together. Food and water quickly ran out but thanks to Anton's lightning and a few large animals that came too close, food issues were solved. Water was stretched as best as it could, supplemented by fruit identified by the bought bondsmen. Otherwise, the trip was rather pleasant, considering it was seventy people that had no idea where they were actually heading.

The bondsmen that he had bought seemed surprised at the sight. They must have been told for most of their lives that everything east of the forest was a monster infested wasteland, and now they saw a city holing on despite the threat.

With over a fortnight of uninterrupted work the village had been transformed. The walls were still rough and uneven but they towered over 2 meters tall in some places and looked quite thick. Gates, reinforced with the Earth Tower material, had been built seemingly on the Eastern side and presumably in the other directions. Behind those walls stood many more new wooden buildings. Anton felt glad that construction was continuing much faster than he had expected.

A small horn sounded when they approached, almost a kilometer away on the open grassland. Men and women, dressed in whatever pieces of armor they could find, pointed at them then disappeared.

With a tremendous groan the gate opened. A few villagers came out and waved them in. By the time they arrived Jeff and Bertram were there to greet them.

“Hello Anton,” Jeff bellowed at them, “We were starting to think that the both of you had decided to just run off.”

“I plan to keep my promises.” Anton said back, when he was close enough to not have to yell. “I take it that nothing bad has happened while we've been gone?”

Jeff looked to Bertram, both shrugging.

“Really, nothing,” Bertram replied, “We've been keeping a close eye on things and kept everyone close to the village. The furthest anyone has been is the quarry. Some guards think they've seen something in the distance the past few days but we haven't found anything yet. Still keeping precautions though.”

“That's great.” Anton turned towards the bondsmen. “These people...I bought from Maxill. They're bondsmen that were owned by the duchess. Now, they're free.”

Anton looked towards the bondsmen, both the peasants and the miners looked confused.

“You heard me right. Even though I 'bought' you, I did it with the intention of having you work and live in this city. And not as enslaved workers. We can promise you food and shelter, it's not much...but from what I saw, that would be miles above what you have lived like for many, many winters.”

They looked at each-other then back to him.

“So...free?” one asked, “Like not belonging to you or anyone?”

Anton nodded.

“Exactly, though this is not a charity. You will be working like everyone else, though without the hunger or condescension. You will be a full citizen of Atros.”

Anton turned to Bertram.

“Can you see about getting these people somewhere to sleep and something to eat, they'll start working tomorrow.”

Bertram turned to the bondsmen.

“If you would follow me we'll see about organizing your new homes. I hope you like it here.”

The bondsmen looked a little nervous but carried on inside, the Atros villagers ushering them in.

“Oh,” Anton said, “Those that are miners, I want you to gather at the main plaza with all your mining equipment and gear right now.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the miners as they walked in.

Anton turned to Jeff.

“I'm wondering to see how far Jonathan's come along with my little 'project'. I really did give him a mountain of a task.”

Verona tugged at his sleeve, pointing back at the cart. Specifically the crates full of supplies and weapons from Maxill.

“Ah, yes. Thank-you Verona.” Anton rubbing Verona's head in thanks as they moved to the cart. “We have ten new crossbows, two of which are older and can be drawn up by the hand by the looks of it, while the others seem to have some sort of metal lever that pulls the string back. I must leave it to you guys to figure out how to use these things properly.”

Jeff hopped onto the cart and looked at the newer crossbows, picking one up to inspect them.

“These look very new.” he said, holding it up to the light, “I'm sure Avery will put them to good use. Let's have a look at these older ones...why did you get these older ones instead...”

He pulled the captured crossbows out of the cart, stopping when he saw the dried blood on both. He looked towards Anton.

“Don't worry about that.” Anton started to explain but Verona continued.

“We ran into some bad people along the road. They tried to hurt us so we killed them.” Verona said without any emotion.

Jeff nodded.

“If they knew what they were going up against they wouldn't have tried it.” Jeff replied, stifling a laugh as he climbed down.

He grabbed the reins of the Ix and led it inside, Anton and Verona following. The gates groaned shut as two villagers either side pulled it closed.

“Following on from that,” Jeff started as they continued to the central plaza, “does anyone else know that either of you can use magic, beside those idiots that tried to get you?”

“A few know that I can use lightning magic, and one knows that I can heal and Verona can use blood magic.” Anton replied.

“He called me a blood berserker.” Verona added.

“He did. Next time we head there I want to get anything on what they know about magic and these glyphs.” Anton continued.

They nodded in agreement as they continued towards the center.

---[]---

Several extra villagers helped them carry the large crates full of the blacksmith items that Jonathan wanted, Anton and Verona following them. Jeff had the soldiers take the crossbows and bolts away, hopefully to try and train with them. He mentioned that Avery would handle that.

Jonathan's blacksmith looked considerably larger, more complete. Smoke rose from the central stacks and the sound of metal striking metal resounded from within.

“Jonathan!” Jeff yelled in as he poked his head around the edge, “Guess who's back with gifts.”

The striking stopped, a heavy thud of a hammer being dropped, and Jonathan emerged. He was covered in soot and dust though he looked quite happy with himself. Both his children emerged, looking the exact same.

Without warning he moved forward and hugged Anton, his strength being far more than he had expected.

“It's good to see you too, Jonathan.” Anton lightly chocked out.

Jonathan patted him on the back before relinquishing his hold.

“I honestly thought that I would never see you both again.”

“You're not the first person.” Anton said as he looked back to Jeff.

Jonathan's attention moved to the large boxes.

“Are these the things I asked for?” he asked as the villagers moved the crates inside.

“Yep. Everything on the list.” Anton opened the crates, Jonathan could barely hold back the look of delight. “I don't know what half of any these things are but I guess that they will help.”

Jonathan nodded.

“They will, it is just a matter of more coal for the forges now. I had to use quite a bit of wood that could have been better used for building houses or stocking up for winter.”

“It's good that we have some miners with us. I'll get them to work with Zac so we can get a regular supply for you.”

“So you did get some people?”

“Seventy. Twenty of whom were miners, so hopefully one or two should know what we are looking for.”

“I am sure that Zac will be pleased to hear that he has more people to order around.” Jonathan chuckled, “I suppose you will want to see how I'm coming along with your little 'idea'?”

Anton nodded. Jonathan waved him, Verona and Jeff inside.

He led them inside the blacksmith and into a newly built secluded area.

Inside, on the ground, was a large slab made out of something that looked like clay. It was a little over a meter long. Along the edge of the slab was a cut, it was two slabs on top of one another. He checked the slab and found at the front a large hole.

Jonathan smiled as he saw Anton take such keen interest.

“It took us a while to get the clay right,” Jonathan started to explain, “We had to travel near to the lake to get enough, but we were quiet and kept out of sight. Anyway, it was a serious effort to get this even remotely right, we have already broken four by trying to bake it too quickly or make it too thin. We had to build a kiln big enough to house this thing. You did not give me much to work with.”

Anton nodded in appreciation. He had no idea how much work went into things, until now.

“I...had a discussion with the others about this thing. They've kept quiet about it thankfully.” Jonathan rested his foot on the clay slab. “To be quite honest, I do not have the skills to build most of these things, so we came to a compromise between the two things you showed me.”

I hadn't expected you to do that. What did you think up?

“So what did you manage to make up?” Anton asked.

Jonathan moved several pieces of tools off of a table and pulled out a dusty piece of paper. On it was the picture of a small cannon, but it looked as if it could be held in the hands. Most of it was just a large stock but the end had a short barrel, like a cannon's. Underneath the barrel and stock were some hooks, that would probably stop the cannon from flying backwards and killing whomever was standing behind it.

“We have decided to call this thing a 'hand cannon'.” Jonathan started, “Because it's smaller than the cannon you wanted me to build. We use the same ideas as you had and made it more...feasible for us.”

Jonathan waved Jeff over and pulled apart the clay slab. Inside was a hollowed out section that matched the picture on the piece of paper.

“It will take some to get it ready and make sure it works. I don't even know if this will work, everything here is still new. Thankfully the things you got for me will mean that I will not have to use much coal to melt the iron, or even the green Bosciycium weapons.”

“I'm very impressed by your industrious nature.” Anton said to an impressed Jonathan, “But we still need the normal weapons and armor to be built.”

Jonathan agreed.

“I've still been making swords and pieces for armor as best I can.”

“We managed to get a few crossbows. If you pull it apart, could you make more pieces for it?”

“Sure. Should not be too difficult. I would like some more people to help out with my normal work.”

“When we return to Maxill, I'll see about getting some more blacksmiths and metalworkers to help you.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank-you Jonathan,” Anton shook his hand, “Keep up the good work.”

“What's your plan for now anyway Anton?” Jeff asked.

“We'll need to head back to Maxill soon. I've got a few things on order that will prove useful for this thing and many more of them. And we can get many more people for the village, once these have settled in and gotten used to things. Duchess Belinda was hesitant to sell more, but with good stories to tell her, hopefully we can get quite a few more. Buy some carts there and maybe even tens more of those crossbows, fill the gap before we get people that can work the wood properly.”

Jeff smiled.

“This would be easier with the Dwarf's help.” Jonathan said as he looked out the window.

“Are these dwarves short, stocky, bearded engineers that live for centuries and are very good at building things?” Anton asked.

“Oh, did they exist in your world too?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” Anton shook his head, “That's what they were the meant to be in my world. Have you seen one before.”

Jonathan and Jeff shook their head.

“They only live in their mountain islands.” Jeff explained. “My dad said that he's only seen one once, and that was when the Kar Kingdom was still alive. We won't be seeing any of them for quite a while, we would have to go through the Qaiviel Kingdom at least.”

“Hmm, pity. We'll have to make do for now. First, we should get the miners to see if they can find anything. Then, I want to take a bath. I've started to like being clean. Is the bath-house still working?”

Jeff and Jonathan nodded.

“Yes it is. Everyone seems to like it,” Jeff explained, “We'll get it prepared for the both of you.”

“Thank-you.” Anton replied. “Let's go get Zac and get those miners working. A few armed villagers with them should be enough for protection.”

Jeff nodded, leading them out.

They left, leaving Jonathan to assemble the strange devices.

---[]---

The miners had gathered in the central plaza like they had been told. They seemed to be quite nervous, many of them looking at the villagers going about their lives whilst heavily armed.

One of the soldiers must have found Zac, as he was waiting at the front of the main hall with some of the other builders.

His bearded face turned into a smile when he saw Anton.

“Good to see you back here lad.” he said in his booming voice.

“Good to be back.” Anton said as he shook his rough hand. “You've continued to do a good job, quite a few more new buildings than when I left.

“We've been working all day, not having to worry about the Yellow Goblins has helped a great deal.”

Zac turned to the miners.

“These are for me, right?”

“They have mining experience.” Anton explained, “That will come in handy for getting coal and ores for Jonathan, plus they might be able to locate more sources of stone, I can't imagine that there's too much left at the quarry.”

“There's still a bit left,” Zac said with a shrug, “Once that's done we'll just need to start digging down...I'm going to be leading them, aren't I?”

“That was the plan.” Anton replied. “At the moment, I think we'll just make it a temporary position until we can get someone dedicated, so you can focus on building.”

Zac grunted, but tried to suppress a smile.

“I'll get them organized. Jeff, we'll need a few soldiers to go with each of them, so nothing bad happens.”

“The mountain might have some ores nearby,” Anton added, “It was mined by someone other than the Yellow Goblins.”

“I'll get on it, see what they have to find.” Zac said as he patted Anton on the shoulder and walked over the to miners.

“Will he be alright?” Anton asked.

“He'll be fine.” Jeff replied. “I'll make sure that he gets the soldiers and help he needs for this. I wonder what they will find.”

Jeff clapped his hands.

“Anyway, you two don't need to be here for that. You mentioned something about having a wash, I think it's a good idea to get it done now.”

“Thanks Jeff.” Verona said, grabbing Anton's hand and dragging him away to the bath-house.

---[]---

Water splashed over his face, Anton enjoyed the feeling of the warm water in the bath-house. To him the whole building felt very plain but he knew that he should not judge. The villagers had not warmed the water themselves, he had decided to use it a chance to train his control of mana, using a small flame underneath his hand to warm the buckets of water. Verona seemed enthralled by the warm water on her skin.

There was just the two of them in the bath-house now. Verona seemed more interested in cleaning him than herself, though Anton did not mind the reverse either, leading to some intimate moments. It was also the first time they had been alone in seven days, something that they were both eager to take advantage of.

It had almost been and hour from when they entered. Anton was ready to leave but Verona convinced him to stay for a bit longer, soaking up the sun on their naked bodies. They picked an open spot with cloth underneath them to protect them from the wood.

Verona rested her chest on his, but Anton could tell that she wanted to ask something but hesitated. It was something it the way her hands twitched so ever slightly.

Eventually, Anton decided to press the issue.

“You want to ask something?” Anton turned his head to Verona.

She raised an eyebrow as she slid off him and onto his arm.

“You look like you want to.”

Verona squirmed a little, taking a deep breath.

“I was thinking about those...things, you are getting Jonathan to build.”

“What about them?”

“If you get them made...will you no longer need me?”

“What?” Anton was shocked, Verona looked quite worried.

“We won't need to get into close with any enemy. And my power is only really good in close, so...”

Anton wrapped his arms around her and started stroking her hair.

“Even if that was the case, which it won't, I would never cast aside someone I love.”

Verona blinked rapidly and started to go red in the face.

“I've never said that to you, have I?”

Verona shook her head.

“Okay. I love you.”

She squirmed in his arms, trying to hide her face. Hearing it aloud was too much for her. He started whispering it in her ears, her face becoming increasingly red and trying to escape his grasp.

He stopped and picked her up so they were both sitting upright.

“Even if we have those weapons of that type, I love being with you. You have tons of energy that never seems to go away, you're always trying to better yourself and you're fun to be with. I hope you enjoy being with me too.”

Verona did not answer, grabbing his head and kissing him deeply, holding it for some time.

“More than anything in this world.” she said as she started nibbling on his hear.

He pushed her back down and started to plant kisses on her neck.

A loud knock on the door broke their passionate embrace.

“Anton? Verona?”

It sounded like Jeff.

“What's wrong?!” Verona replied, somewhat angry that their time had been interrupted.

“We've got a...problem on the Eastern side of Atros.”

Anton and Verona looked at each-other.

“Goblins or Orcs?” he asked, picking Verona up along with himself and heading to where they had stored their clothes.

“Neither. We don't really know what's happening. 'though, they don't seem to be wanting to try anything funny.”

“We'll be out in a little bit.” Anton shouted back.

They were quickly dressed.

Verona played with her hair. After spending some time cleaning, she realized it was starting to get quite long, almost reaching her shoulders. She started to assemble her armor, getting Anton to help with the chest piece.

“After we figure out what's going on, we'll get you hair into something better. I'm thinking some sort of braids or plaits. Something other than loose and scruffy.”

“Like yours? And your beard?” she quipped back at him.

“Exactly. I don't want you looking scruffy.”

“Aww.” Verona replied somewhat sarcastically, pulling him down for a kiss. “We'll need to do something about you as well. I liked your beard back when it was short, it tickled against my skin.”

“It'll be something for us both them.” Anton was about to open the door when the clink of Verona's clay pots reminded him. “Better get some blood, a couple of vials this time. Just in case.”

Verona grabbed her spear, leaning against the wall, and collected four vials worth of blood. More than enough to deal with whatever threat was approaching from the east.

---[]---

As the three traveled through the village, the first thing Anton noticed was that it was not in a state of panic. When the Yellow Goblins attacked in force people were running around in a wild frenzy, now it looked like any other day. This threat was evidently not that great.

“So, I take it's not an army.” Anton said as he looked around at the calm villagers, “How many are there?”

“Just one,” Jeff replied, “But they aren't in the talking mood. The only thing they've said is that want to see the mage....and that's you. Won't say anything else.”

“Are they inside or outside the city wall?”

“Outside, refused to come inside yet. Someone, that's going to get a serious bout of training this afternoon, fired an arrow at their feet. Didn't even flinch. I think it's a woman but they don't say much.”

“Just keeps asking for me?”

Jeff nodded.

“Let's see who this person is then.”

They climbed a small set of stair next to the gate and on-top of the wall. This section had raised parapets of a sort, up to Anton's chest, to protect them from arrows. The industrious nature of the villagers never failed to amaze him. Thankfully, Verona could look over without having to stand on a box like the last time.

Several villagers were either side of the gate, one with a bow looking quite solemn. When Jeff and Anton looked at him he hung his head in shame. Hopefully they could explain their way out.

Outside, with an arrow at their feet, was a single person, covered in head to toe with a mismatched pieces of cloth, all looking incredibly old and worn. Not a single part of their body was exposed, even their eyes are covered by a thin cloth, presumably enough to see through. Over that was a hood. Giant sleeves covered their hands and feet. The person was quite tall and barely moved as it breathed, only the light breeze moving its clothes. Not a single part of their body was exposed.

The moment that Anton stopped, the person's head twitched and looked straight at him. Verona murmured something as she nudged him.

The person coughed and began to speak.

“Are you the mage?” the person asked. The voice was female, though quite light unlike Verona's.

She, whomever she was, was looking straight at Anton.

“And who are you?” Jeff asked.

The woman refused to answer, continuing to look straight at Anton.

“What do you want here?” Anton asked.

“I was called here, by the old gods.” the woman pointed at him, “The chained woman in white. I think you humans call her Tethra, if you still know of them.”

She reached around her neck with a cloth wrapped hand and pulled out a necklace. Even from this distance he could tell that it was silver or at least something that looked like it. Hanging at the bottom was a pair of hands clasped in prayer, just like the one on his hand.

“And what did this god want?” Anton asked.

The woman shuffled uncomfortably.

“To be honest, she did not say. Not that she can speak, much. A few hoarse whispers. She showed me that if I came here I would find something I have been looking for almost my entire life. She did whisper something. Something about you needing all the help you can get.”
Anton looked at Jeff and Verona, who seemed to want to find out what she was on about.

“Alright, I think we can let you in for now,” Anton said loudly, “We haven't had many visitors in quite a while, and we've just had to fight off a Yellow Goblin horde, so everyone's a little bit jumpy. There shouldn't be anything like that arrow happening again.”

The woman looked down at the arrow jutting out of the ground a few feet away.

“It's not the worst thing that's happened to me.” she said dryly.

Jeff waved to the villagers and the gate creaked open. The woman started walking forward.

Anton and Verona started walking down to the ground, holding out his hand when she just passed the gate. She halted, not showing any signs of being upset or angry. The other villagers remained on the wall, except for the archers who came halfway down the stairs.

“I'm going to have to ask you to remove your...hood. And for a search for weapons.” Anton explained.

The woman's head darted either side, Verona and the other villagers moving infront.

“Is that...necessary?” their was a hint of fear in her voice.

“After we check you, your weapons will be returned to you. We just don't want anything like poisons or the like being brought in.”

“I still don't like this.”

“In that case, you can leave. We have women that can check you over if that is a concern.”

“That's not it.”

The woman started to raise a hand to her face but brought it back down.

“We're not asking you to strip naked. Just your face will do for now.” Anton explained. “I would at least be able to see who I am talking to about the god's.”

The woman looked either side, stopping on the archer. She paused before sighing lightly.

“Okay. Just make sure that man with the bow doesn't attack me.”

Anton and Jeff turned to the archer. He nodded and lowered the bow, keeping the arrow knocked.

The woman removed her hood and then started removing the cloth wraps covering her head. Her fingers trembled as she did so, Anton noticing that her breathing had become more quick and was starting to become erratic. The silence of the villagers made the whole thing far more awkward and intimidating than it should have been.

Why are you so afraid? Is it a scar or disfigurement? Or-

Anton's thoughts were answered as the first piece of her head was revealed. Her hair was a dark aqua, long and rough. That was peculiar to Anton, but since it was a different world he felt it was possible.

The next layer down came off and the archer drew his bow, Anton's face snapping towards the sound. The woman stopped and brought her hands to shield her face.

“Stop!” Anton yelled to the Archer, quickly followed by Jeff.

Verona turned on her power, drawing up a vial's worth of blood in readiness, though she did not seem to know who to target.

“What do you think you are doing?” Anton asked angrily.

The archer nodded back to the woman, who had remained motionless. He was higher than Anton was so he figured the archer could see something else.

Eventually the archer lowered the bow and remained fixed on the woman. Anton motioned for her to continue.

Seemingly feeling a bit more confident, she removed the remaining pieces of cloth in one quick swipe.

A light gasp came from the villagers while Anton was taken aback.

Initially he thought it was just a lightly tanned woman with oddly colored hair, but there was something else.

Her ears were long, three times of a normal ear, pointed and covered in a darker shade of aqua colored hair, quite possibly fur. It was like an animal's, twitching slightly as she looked between the villagers. The fur continued from the ears and a few millimeters onto her face. One was much shorter than the other and looked uneven. Like it had been torn off a long time ago.

Her eyes were bright green, an unnatural shade. Not to the same level of the wolves but still very bright. But it was the iris's that really caught his attention. They were like a cat's, slits, but they were horizontal rather than vertical.

The impression was quite striking, though apart from that everything about her looked human. At least what he could see so far.

The woman looked nervously at the others finally resting her eyes between Anton and the still glowing Verona.

“I knew this would happen.” she grumbled as she pulled her hood back over her head and covering her distinctive ears.

“Because you look different?” Anton asked.

Sheer bewilderment crossed her face. She looked to the others who either returned a cold look or shrugged dismissively.

“Yes...because I am different.” she angrily replied. She rubbed her head while looking quite confused.

“How...are you...” she trailed off into incomprehensible mumbling.

“He's...” Verona started, looking up at Anton, “Lost his memory, so he doesn't know much. He's different from the rest.”

The woman seemed to calm somewhat.

“Could you at least tell us your name?” Anton asked, still transfixed by her eyes and ears.

“She's a Beast-Kin!” the archer yelled before the woman could answer, followed by the nodding of some of the other armed villagers.

“And that is...?” Anton asked. They must have forgotten that he is still meant to have lost his memory.

Jeff moved in between the woman and the archer and explained.

“My dad would be better at explaining this, but what I understand is that they are...people...but they have...animal parts. That's all I really know.”

“They're freaks! Monsters!” the archer yelled, slowly raising his bow.

“And what have they done to you or anyone you know?” Anton asked, summoning a lightning and fire bomb and sending them near the archer. He watched the bombs floating near him but said nothing.

“Have you even met one before?”

The archer hesitated. “No, but I was always told they were evil creatures.”

“Oh, come on.” Anton said, looking back to the woman.

Her eyes were wide open, staring straight at Anton. Tethra must have left out that he could use different types of magic and at the same time.

“She hardly looks evil. In fact, you were the one that was going to kill her based on her race. Or ever having met one before. That makes us look like the evil ones. That's something I don't want to see.”

The archer lowered his weapon and returned the arrow to his quiver. Anton withdrew the magic bombs.

“We should not be hostile to everyone we meet, especially to some that makes you feel uncomfortable.” Anton explained, the archer nodding but refusing to look her in the eyes.

“Kal. My name is Kal.” the woman answered. She seemed to be a little more calm but still kept the archer and the armed villagers in her sight.

“Well, Kal, there's no point in you just standing there all day while we ask questions. We're about to have lunch?” Anton turned to Jeff, who nodded. He seemed less disturbed than anyone there and was keeping a calm face.

“I think you have not eaten much in some time.” Anton pointed out to Kal.

Her face looked a little sunken, like she had not eaten well in some time. It hid, what Anton suspected, to be a smart and quick witted face.

“No.” Kal replied, matter-of-factly.

“In that case, once you temporarily surrender your weapons, we can talk and you can join us for lunch.”

Kal reached into a roll of cloth around her waist and produced two knives. They both were covered with dried blood and looked quite old and worn. She handed them to a villager, then they were handed to Anton.

“Those are the only weapons I have.” Kal said as she watched Anton inspect them more closely. “They've kept me safe, I would like them back soon.”

“You shall. But first I would like to talk to you more.”

Kal nodded, waiting for the other villagers to lead her forward. Verona kept her power activated but put the blood back into the vials. Kal kept her attention divided between Anton and the armed villagers.

Two female villagers came forward and patted Kal down. After nothing else was found they left her alone.

They led her to the central plaza, everyone remaining silent.

---[]---

Even though it was a little bit before lunch they decided to have theirs inside the council chambers. It would be easier to keep away people while they tried to figure out what Kal was actually doing here.

Jeff brought his mother and father along, since everyone else on the council was busy in their own way. If Kal was not a threat she would be introduced later. Verona sat next to Anton, occasionally fiddling with her vials of blood, with Bertram and Sybil on one side and Jeff on the other.

Kal kept her hood up for the whole time. Anton kept an eye on her, watching her look at everyone that came in.

She's very quick. She only looked over them once, and looks like she came to a conclusion. She didn't seem very worried about Bertram and Sybil but she's keeping an eye on myself and especially Verona.

Anton tapped Bertram on the shoulder, motioning for him to follow him out into the corridor, Verona as well.

“What is happening here?” Bertram asked after closing the door.

“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” Anton replied, “But what I want to know, is what is a Beast-kin? Jeff knows something about them and I'm sure that both you and Sybil know what that means, but I don't and I don't know if Verona does either.”

Verona nodded.

“I don't know everything. But, they're are mixture of humans and different animals. Most are somewhat human with mainly animal parts. Some are faster, slower, weaker or stronger than humans. Maybe it was some magical experiment that went wrong or they were always like that. Now, there's nothing wrong with them. But, she...”

Bertram looked back to the room.

“She's definitely a half-breed. Poor thing. It happens when a man and beast-kin have children. Most of the time they look just like their Beast-kin parent. But, sometimes they come out mostly human. Like her.”

“And I imagine that they are treated very badly, not being part of either group?”

Bertram nodded.

“I've never seen one before, but I've heard stories. Most of the ones I saw were full Beast-kin. The Kar kingdom nobles liked to buy and make them fight, for their amusement. Anyway, most half breeds don't live long, barely beyond a baby.”

“But she did,” Anton continued, “She could almost be in her early thirties. Tough person. And for her to just turn up here...says a lot for her belief in the old gods.”

Anton looked to his hand with glyphs.

“She kept an amulet of the prayer goddess, and knew that she cannot speak normally, and then only in great pains and very few words. I'm willing to trust her, for now at least.”

“Me too.” Verona added, “She seems like should could be quite strong if she snuck up on you...but she seems fine.”

Verona rubbed her own back, specifically the small of her back where the center of her glyph lay.

“At least she can talk to a god with it scaring the hell out of her. I think her eyes are pretty too.”

“We'll at least figure out what she has to say, then figure out what to do next.” Anton said, the others agreeing.

They re-entered the room, everyone looked as if they had not spoken a word.

As they took their seats, Kal looked at each of them. He could see a little apprehension on her face.

Anton cleared his throat and began.

“So, Kal, I want you to be honest. How are you even alive in this wilderness?”

Kal shuffled a little before answering.

“It's not that hard. Once you get used to it.” she brought her hands onto the table and started twiddling them. “I find somewhere safe and only go out when I need to. I do not attract much attention by myself.”

“Fair enough.” Anton said. “What did Tethra send you here for? Considering that you're a Beast-kin.”

Kal pursed her lips and stared at her clothed hands. She stayed silent for some time before finally speaking.

“About ten or so days ago, It was raining and storming. I...don't like the lightning.” she reached into the cloth around her neck and produced the silver medallion.

“I remembered the stories about the Old Gods. My...friends...talked about them often. It was all they had. I prayed to the medallion, like I had done a thousand times before, for the lightning to end, or for me to fall asleep. It never worked until now.”

Kal leant over and handed them the medallion. The hands in prayer looked as if someone had a coin of silver and carved away until they made the symbol. It was definitely old but well looked after, an important keepsake. Anton handed it back to a very thankful Kal.

“It only took a few heartbeats, but I know what I saw. I saw the mountain to the north, the lake with the pillars to the south, and this city in between. Then...another city, far to the north, on fire. Soldiers were running about, tearing it apart. One shouted something...he said 'Atros'. Then she appeared, the woman in white, covered in chains. I didn't think she could speak, but she told me to come here and I would find what I have always been praying for.”

“Is the city a part of the Grataeris Empire or the Deweth Clans?” Anton asked.

“No.”

“Somewhere further north?”

Kal nodded but did not give anything more.

We really need that map.

“Well, I think that for now, we can at least treat you to lunch.” Anton said, Sybil getting up to gather the lunch, “After that we can figure out whether or not you want to live here.”

Kal looked stunned at his words. The others, except for Verona, looked surprised as well.

“I don't see any problem with having a Beast-kin or a half-breed Beast-kin living and working here. We're going to need all the help we can get so we should not dismiss anyone based on their race.”

Anton looked either side.

“Does anyone have any objection to this?” Anton asked.

Jeff and Bertram looked to each-other and then back to Anton.

“We don't have a problem with that,” Bertram explained, “But some of the others might.”

“In that case they can deal with me.” Anton said as he lent back into his chair, “This village, soon to be a city, will not be a place that welcomes and respects all people and creatures that come in peace.  I don't want to see the racial hatred of Earth repeated here.”

“You don't need to convince us.” Jeff replied.

“Well, let it be known that Beast-kin are welcome here, and anyone that has a problem with that can take it up with me.”

Bertram leant towards Anton.

“We can try our best but we may not be able to convince that many. Everyone was told from a very young age how dangerous they are. It will take some time to change that.”

“Given some time, and maybe a few acts of bravery and things could start to change. Hopefully...better than just chucking everyone out that's different.”

Bertram sat back up, giving Kal a little nod. She almost smiled at the sight, that she might not have to live in trees or caves, hiding away from the monsters that prowl the wilderness.

“Thank-you.” she said as she bowed her head, “I will help in whatever way I can.”

“Just out of curiosity, what skills do you have?” Verona asked.

Kal looked more nervous, like she had just been dropped into a high pressure interview, especially since she had just been asked by someone that could effortlessly control blood.

“I...I know how to survive; hunt and survive outside a city by myself, how to read the earth so I know when monsters are coming, I know quite a bit about the monsters and beasts of the land. I've also used just about all the types of weapons I could get my a hold of, swords, daggers, bows, even rocks work sometimes.”

“Did you steal many of those weapons?” Anton asked.

Kal squirmed a little.

“A few. From those that tried to hurt me.” she bluntly replied.

“Understandable.”

“I've got a question,” Anton asked, “If every human you've met hates Beast-kin, why bother coming here when you could be killed?”

Kal grimaced and threw a troubled smile.

“Every day I face death. It will come for me, one way or another. I will fight it, but accept it when it comes.”

“Hopefully you won't have to now.” Anton said.

Kal raised an eyebrow and was about to ask something when a noise stopped her. The door opened and Sybil emerged with small plates of food for all of them. It was the usual fare that they ate; dried meats, cheeses, bread and some vegetables.

When the meal was place infront of Kal, her eyes practically jumped out of her skull. She looked to the others and then back to the plate infront of her.

She must have been living on scraps for years. Hope she doesn't overdo it.

The others started to eat their food after saying thank you to Sybil. Kal looked around, to see if this was some sort of trick, but after Anton started eating as well she started to as well. She picked up and sniffed at the piece of dried meat with her cloth covered hands. She looked like she wanted to devour the meat. However, she resisted and ate it slowly.

Anton did not miss that, as she opened her mouth, all of her teeth were all like canines, sharp and used for tearing and slicing through meat. There did not appear to be any molars at the back. She bit in and tore the meat with a clean bite.

It appeared that she knew that as well, her eyes darting up to everyone else. She stopped when she looked to Anton and realized that he had seen. He realized he was staring, so he continued eating and smiled lightly. Kal seemed to appreciate that he wasn't going to make a point of it.

They ate in relative silence, Kal and Anton finishing first, Verona stole some of his though she would be punished for it later.

“Kal?” Anton began to ask, “I have some more questions for you.”

“Okay. You gave me so much food, so I guess I should.”

“I don't know much about Beast-kin, but I've been told that you're a half-breed. If you could, could you tell me what type of Beast-kin you are?”

“They called me a 'Feline Type'.” Kal raised and squeezed her fingers to accentuate the quotations.

“I suppose, because of the ears...a feline type.”

Underneath her hood he could see her ears and face twitch.

“F.T. Number four thr....”

Kal stopped, grimaced and scrunched her hands upon the table. Every part of her face screamed that she loathed what she had just said. Everyone looked quite embarrassed at what they had just heard.

That was some sort of number she just started to blurt out. Like some sort of serial number that she just read out on reflex. If she's not had many people to talk to over the years...could she be an escaped convict? Or slave?

The whole room was deathly quiet, nobody even picked at the remains of their food.

Anton wanted to get the conversation back to something better. His mind drifted to her hands. They had remained covered during eating and the cloth looked quite old. He did not know what lay underneath but felt it was better than just leaving the room silent.

“Your hands?”

Kal looked up at him then back down at her hands.

“Are they injured, or are they...?”

“They're not injured...I keep them covered so people don't know who I am when I do have to speak with them.”

Kal started to unwrap her right hand.

“That's not very often?” Anton asked.

“No. Not very.” Kal replied, Anton swearing that she almost smiled.

She continued to remove the cloth until it was completely revealed, right up to her upper arm.

From the shoulder down to the elbow was normal, lightly tanned skin. At the elbow it changed. From there to the fingertips it was covered in short fur, the same colour as her ears. Her fingers seemed a little longer than normal and the tips had claws, as wide as fingernails but with a slight hook and point at the end. They looked very sharp but were covered in dirt. He could not tell without touching them but they looked Kal might have wrapped her hands up just for today. None of it looked like it was hurting her or a mutation.

“The other's the same.” Kal said as she turned her hand over.

On the underside of her hand were large pads between the joints of her fingers and a larger one in the palm. They had the same lightly tanned color as the rest of her skin. They looked soft, perhaps she did keep her hands covered for most of the time.

“I heard that Beast-kin have tails.” Bertram asked.

Kal started wrapping her hand back up.

“I do. But I'm not going to strip naked to satisfy your curiosity.”

Bertram was taken aback by her blunt refusal. Kal did not seem to take much offense by the question though.

“Sorry Kal, we all seem to be a bit curious about you.” Anton said, trying to rescue Bertram.

Kal held up her hands and let them know it was fine.

“I would like to see your skills with weapons, Kal.” Anton began, “I'm sure that you could tell that we are very much a village still at war with the monsters. Everything would be of use. Also, Bertram, if you could find a spare house for Kal, I'm sure there are still a few left over?”

Bertram looked to Sybil and Jeff, all three nodding.

“There's a small one, near yours, that's abandoned and mostly intact. We could have it properly done by this afternoon.” Jeff explained.

“Good, I'll leave that to you then.” Anton said as he rose from his chair, the others doing the same.

Kal looked frantically between them.

“A whole house, just for myself?” she asked, her voice exasperated. “That seems a little much for a...Beast-kin. I can find-”

“If you want to live and work here you'll need somewhere to live. It wasn't doing anything anyway.” Anton said with a shrug, “Besides, it has to be better than sleeping in the elements. I don't know if it has a bed though.”

Kal stood up as well and looked him straight in the eye, they almost looked teary.

“Thank-you. I won't let you down, Anton.”

-------------------

Hello.

I know it's been quite a while since the last chapter, but I've had to re-plan out the arc but I think I've changed it for the better.

This chapter also showed by limited understanding of forging and smelting. As a result, also having bad and slow internet doesn't help, I've had to write it somewhat vague as to what they are actually doing and going with the result. I had not looked into the Hand Cannon before this, now i can see that the thing would be extremely terrifying and deadly.

In the other works I've read, beast people are sometimes just people with tails and ears that are different. I wanted to show that even a half-breed is defiantly not the same as a human, and still haven't revealed her completely.

Thanks for reading and please go easy on me in the comments.

Chapter 026 - Kal and Gods

Chapter 026:

With lunch, and a good many other things relating to Kal settled, they headed outside. Quite a few people had gathered. Anton hoped they were here to look at Kal rather than planning to do something stupid.

Kal pulled her hood tighter on her head and hunched it down as she emerged, not liking the attention she was getting. Anton was not liking some of the looks he was getting from the villagers either. Thankfully, Jeff came to the rescue.

“Alright, back to work everyone. There's nothing to see here.”

Some of the villagers started to leave while most stayed.

“Go on,” he raised his voice, “Unless you want to spend the rest of the day running around the village with my foot up your arse!”

The villagers looked positively scared and quickly scattered, Jeff smiling at Anton who returned it.

“Thank-you Jonathan. Now, Kal?”

She twitched and looked straight at him, straightening herself up as well. Anton had not really noticed until now but Kal was almost as tall as he was. Her eyes were almost at the same level as his.

“Your knowledge of the monsters and beasts will take quite some time to properly explain. For now, I would like to see how you fare in combat.”

Kal nodded in reply.

“We have quite a few spare weapons in the training field,” Jeff said looking north, “They aren't sharp enough for proper combat, but they're good enough to spar with.”

“Wasn't the training yard...around here?” Anton asked, pointing to the central plaza.

“It was, but with more people planned to live here I thought we needed a more permanent spot, one that's not going to be in anyone's way.”

“Alright. We'll go there.”

Kal seemed a little nervous about going into such a public space but still followed them north.

The northern gates were left open, many villagers were coming and going. Most were soldiers that looked tired and battered from their training. Some nodded or saluted in their odd way but most looked angrily or disapprovingly at Kal. He heard her sigh lightly but said nothing of it.

The training field itself was just a large open area outside the village, to the left of the gate. The outside of the field was marked with large wooden stakes and was easily a hundred meters wide and the same deep. The regrowing green grass had been trampled flat and in some parts the still scorched dirt was already beginning to show. On the wall side of the field lay several racks of old iron and wooden weapons, some villagers mulling around them.

Further to the north was a large raised earth ridge, that looked like an archery range of sorts. Anton could see Avery and over thirty villagers at the range. Some had bows while the others were getting used to the crossbows, they seemed to be learning quickly judging by how fast they could reload and fire the bolts at the rough targets.

Many soldier villagers were paired off, under the watch and instruction of someone that Anton recognized as one of Jeff's best soldiers but did not remember his name. He was a short but well built man.

When they saw Jeff approach they stopped. The instructor came up and patted Jeff on the back, which he returned.

“We were wondering why you were called away to the east. Something good happen?” the instructor asked.

“Not really sure. But Anton seems to think it will be, so I'm going with that.” Jeff replied. “We're going to need a bit of room...”

Jeff leaned into his ear and spoke, Anton still able to hear. “And we'll need it as clear as possible.”

The instructor raised an eyebrow and looked towards Anton. Anton looked behind him and saw that Kal was looking down so her eyes were only just barely visible.

“It's a little...difficult to explain without everybody shouting their thoughts.”

The instructor looked a little bewildered but nodded in agreement, motioning for Jeff to speak.

“Okay everyone,” Jeff boomed over the clanks of the colliding weapons, “Take a break. Go inside and get yourself something to eat. We'll need this space for a little bit, so take your time.”

The soldiers looked relieved, men and women had sweat pouring off of their faces as they stopped. They put their weapons back onto racks resting on the wall and headed inside. Quite a few did not, sitting down against the wall and in whatever shade they could find. They seemed interested in whatever was happening. There were still a few people on the field, talking mostly.

Avery, though, was continuing the ranged training with the villagers and showed that he was not going to stop until it was the actual time for lunch.

“This looks as open as it's going to be for now.” Anton said, looking back to Kal, “So what weapons do you usually use?”

Kal pulled out her daggers.

“These recently. I have used most of these types of swords before.”

“I think we should start out with a practice sword for you to begin with-”

“Who's she going to go up against?” Verona asked, “We can't just tell how good she is from her just swinging it around.”

Anton was about to answer when a cry of 'Hello' resounded through the air, coming from the gate. They all turned around to see Sam, Jeff's partner and girlfriend, coming towards them with someone else behind her. They kept their head down underneath a large leather hat.

“Anton, Verona! You could have at least said hello when you got back.” Sam said as she came up to Anton looking somewhat cross, “I only heard about you two from the odd rumors going around.”

“Hello Sam,” Anton said, “We've had a very interesting day so far.”

She hugged Anton, followed by Verona. Sam took advantage, picking Verona up and squeezing her, a squeak of surprise coming from Verona. She put her back down but kept her arms wrapped around Verona's head, Verona silently grumbling about her lack of height.

“No excuse though.” she said. Anton could not help but agree.

The other woman caught his attention. She keep her hat tilted forward slightly and obscuring her face. Anton felt that he recognized her though.

The woman looked up and smiled. It was Dana, the lost scout.

“Dana, how are you doing? I haven't seen you since the mountain.” Anton asked.

He had told her to come to him if she needed anything relating to her difficult time in the mountain but she had not. Part of his mind must have thought that she was fine and forgot to ask about her. That was something that he did not want her to know.

“I'm doing...okay.” she replied.

Her voice had changed from the hoarse and croaky one from the mountain and was now far more lighter and sweet to hear.

“You'll be glad to know that I did not manage to fall pregnant from those...monsters.” Dana said as she smiled, “I'm still glad to be back here, alive, with my brother. He's been a great help through this thing.”

Anton nodded. He had no idea what damage could be done by being forced upon multiple times, but from the outside at least, she seemed to be alright.

“I'm sorry I didn't check up on you.”

“It's okay. You had quite a number of things going on. I'm just glad that you actually came and rescued us. I didn't want to be in that cave any longer.”

“Are you still riding and scouting, considering....?”

Dana nodded.

“Yes.” She replied, “I got snuck up on and did not know how to defend myself. If I knew how to use a blade properly they may have just killed me, or I could have fought them off. So, I'm here every day to learn. I think I'm doing well.”

She turned to Jeff, who nodded in agreement.

“She single handedly took control of all our scouts and those that can ride horses, and has them training here every day.” Jeff added, “It will take quite a bit of force to get one of our scouts down now.”

“You here for some more of that?”

Dana nodded.

“I was, but I heard from the others that you've got the training field cleared for something. I wanted to see what was happening.”

Sam agreed.

By the way, you mentioned there were some rumors. What sort of rumors, anyway?” he asked.

“That there's a demonic beast running about, following your shadow, that you let in.”

Sam looked over Anton's shoulder, Kal again hiding behind him. Anton moved to the side, Kal looked up at him, revealing her Beast-kin eyes. Sam looked a little startled while Dana looked on silently.

“There is a beast running about.” Sam suppressed a laugh.

She approached Kal, who looked straight at her.

“Hello, I'm Sam. Jeff's partner.”

Sam held her hand out for Kal to shake. Kal looked to Anton, who nodded, and shook her hand.

“Kal. Beast-kin.” she replied curtly.

“Doesn't say much, does she?” Sam looked to Anton and Jeff.

“No, but she has only been here since an lunch and probably spent most of her life being beaten or on the run from people.” Anton explained, “Although, you seem okay with shaking the hand of a Beast-kin, let alone them being here. Same to you, Dana.”

Sam shrugged. “I trust you, and Jeff. Besides...”

She leaned in closer to Kal, “She looks cute.”

Kal took a step back in surprise but steadied herself. She had probably never heard a single positive thing in decades.

“And what about you, Dana?”

Dana looked around and then up and down.

“She doesn't seem hostile. And I've learned that the stories about the monsters and beasts have turned out to be wrong...especially with those Yellow Goblins not being intelligent. Since she's not one of them...I'll trust that she won't do anything to hurt us, but only because of your words, Anton. I am open for her to prove herself though.”

Guess my words stand for quite a bit, though Dana's attitude is understandable. Getting violated for over a week by those little yellow monsters would definitely make me hostile to anything that looked remotely non-human. At least she's not spitting venom at Kal...yet.

“Is she staying here?” Dana asked, their was no emotion to her voice.

“For now, yes.” Anton replied. “I want this village to be great, and that cannot be accomplished without taking all the help we can get.”

Dana nodded and folded her arms. She did not seem threatening but ready for anything potentially dangerous.

“Kal says she's fought off monsters and beasts, and considering that she's a Beast-kin alone out here, I'm willing to believe her.” Anton continued. “We were about to start a little sparing session when you two arrived, about to get someone to go against her.”

“I'll do it.” Sam said, attracting odd looks from everyone.

“Are you sure?” Verona asked. “I could-”

“No, I'll be fine. It's just a practice match right?” she looked to Anton who nodded, “Besides, I haven't had much practice since the battle with the Yellow Goblins, been helping the harvesting mainly. You, Verona, could really hurt her. Especially if you use that power of yours. And you can heal either of us if something goes wrong. ”

Anton, and Kal, looked to Jeff. If something were to go wrong it would be Jeff that could do something, especially worrying for Kal. He let out a light sigh before bringing Sam close and kissing her.

“You do do whatever you want.” he said slyly.

“Whatever I think is right.” she replied as she placed her finger on his lips.

She turned to Anton and Verona.

“It worked out quite well for the both of them.”

Jeff glanced over, releasing his hug.

“Okay.” He turned to Kal, “But this is just a sparing match, Kal.”

Kal nodded furiously.

“Okay,” Anton said, clapping his hands, “What will you pick, Sam?”

“I usually use a spear, so I'll use the practice one.”

Sam walked over to the weapon rack and took a long wooden stick. There was no point on either end, they were rounded, so if someone was hit it would hurt but not kill them.

“And what about you, Kal?”

She walked up, somewhat hesitant in her steps, and looked at the array of weapons. She took a sword, one of average size.

“I used one of these quite a bit before I lost it fighting away a bear. I remember it working quite well.”

She took a few practice swings with the sword, seemingly liking the feel in her hands. While most of it was rusted or dark, the edges were bright. They had been rounded so much that they would not cut through even the softest flesh.

She held it tight in one hand and walked opposite of Sam.

As she walked past Anton he could hear her muttering something.

“You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.” she kept muttering underneath her breath.

“Just take a deep breath, Kal. You'll do fine.”

Kals stopped and nodded, holding in an awkward smile.

“I keep forgetting that I'm around things that aren't trying to kill me.”

Anton smiled and Verona chuckled. He looked down and found her smirking at him. He patted and rubbed her head, receiving an even bigger beaming smile.

“Oh, Kal?” Anton said, “You may want to remove your hood. It would probably help you keep aware of your situation.”

Kal looked around. The remaining villagers, except those at the archery range, were watching. Avery kept his soldiers hard at training.

“Is it okay?” she asked.

“Better that they see the truth than let rumors decide what you are.” Anton replied.

Kal took off her hood and the outermost, loose, cloak-like layer of clothing. Underneath the outer most layer it appeared she wore relatively old but tight pants and a shirt, with the wrapped cloth covering her limbs and back underneath her clothes. He did not know if she was completely covered by the rags, and it did very well at hiding her body. This only left her head exposed, but now there was nothing loose to be caught on or grabbed a hold of.

There were some gasps from the watching villagers, even from Avery's group. They too stopped, Avery looking at Kal then at Jeff. Jeff nodded back at the archery range. Avery yelled something and the soldiers returned to their training.

“I suppose if you only wore baggy clothes you would get it snagged on rocks or claws.” Anton mumbled. Verona nodded in response.

“Are you both ready?” Anton asked loudly.

Sam smiled and nodded while Kal still looked concerned.

“It's not an actual battle to the death, just to when it would be a killing blow.”

“We understand what it means.” Sam replied, looking back towards Kal. She was breathing slowly and slowly flexing her hands.

Sam held her wooden stick like it was a spear while Kal held her sword infront with both hands.

Anton looked to Jeff, who sighed a little. “Okay, begin.”

Neither moved, eyeing each-other off. Sam continued to look energetic while Kal barely moved.

Sam moved first, advancing until she nearly within striking distance. Having the advantage in range, she thrust the pole straight at her chest. As the tip drew close, Kal leant to her right and separated her left hand from her sword handle. With her hand freed she palmed the pole away, crouched and lunged forward. She thrust the sword at Sam's stomach, stopping just before reaching her.

Sam dug her shoes into the dirt and stopped. The realization that she just lost was sprawled over her face. Kal said nothing, there was nothing on her face either. It seemed to unnerve Sam a little.

“Um...Kal wins?” Jeff said hesitantly, looking to Anton.

“Yes. Kal one, Sam zero.” Anton added.

“Oh, so it's a game now?” Sam asked, Kal remained silent. Sam had recovered from Kal's blank stare.

Both Sam and Kal returned to their original positions.

“Best of three,” Anton announced, “Then we'll switch Sam with someone else. You still okay, Kal?”

Kal nodded.

Sam moved first again. She did not a single large thrust. Instead, smaller ones straight at her sword to taker her off balance. Kal tried to keep her weapon in her hand under the blows but her strength was lacking, the lack of nutrition had taken it's toll.

Sam took a large swing and connected with the sword. It ripped out Kal's hand and flew to her left but Kal was not beaten yet. She dodged the next swing aimed at her shoulder, dropping and darting to her sword. Sam tried again to attack but did not see Kal's hand dig deep into the dirt.

As Sam tried to attack again she was greeted with a face full of dirt. She recoiled and tried to cover her face. While it did no real damage it served its purpose. Kal dashed and picked up her sword, rushing towards Sam. However, Sam proved stronger, holding the spear in the middle and swiping at Kal's legs. They connected, a yelp of pain from Kal and she tumbled, not before Kal tried her best to slash at Sam's legs.

Sam swung her spear down at Kal's head. Kal glanced up and winced. The blow never came, only a light bump on the head.

Kal looked up, surprised when Sam was smiling. She held out her hand for Kal to take. Kal brushed the dirt off her clothes while Sam wiped away the dirt on her face.

“That was really tricky of you.” Sam said as she removed a large chunk of dirt from her eye.

“It saved me once when I was facing down a hunter.” Kal explained as she removed the last pieces of dirt from her clothes, “I did it by accident when I tried to throw a stone at him.”

“Then what?”

“I killed him.”

Sam smiled, pulling Kal in for a hug without warning. Kal's whole body went stiff as she looked in panic towards Anton and Jeff.

“She does that to people she likes.” Jeff explained.

Kal seemed a little stunned as Sam let go and returned to her original position.

“Ready for one last go?” she asked. Kal looked to the others, who gave her a nod.

“Okay.”

They both took their original positions. Kal struck first, jumping over a meter in the air towards Sam. There was no trick this time, just speed.

Sam pointed the tip of the spear so Kal would hit the end. Kal repeated her first move and palmed away the spear but Sam moved with the it, moving away with Kal landing where she once stood.

Kal tried to strike again with a slash to the waist but Sam stopped it with her spear, now vertical onto the ground. Kal stumbled as the sword bounced back, Sam taking quick advantage and bringing the tip down on her head.

A light crack resounded as it hit Kal's skull. She let out a mixture of a groan and a yelp as she staggered back and held her head.

“Sam wins,” Anton said loudly, “Two wins to one loss.”

Anton looked to the crowd still watching. They had been silent the whole time. Some started clapping and smiling, not all was directed at Sam. Anton heard some good things said about Kal, though since they did not know her name they called her Beast-kin.

He moved towards Kal who was still holding her head. There was a little bit of blood staining the top of her head. Sam noticed this as well and looked quite concerned.

“I'm sorry,” she said as she pushed Kal's hair aside to try and get a better look, “I didn't mean to hit you that hard.”
“It's...It's alright, I've had far worse.” Kal replied. Anton noticed that her hand instinctively reached for her torn ear.

“You both did very well.” Jeff said as he hugged Sam, who returned it.

“I liked the thing with the dirt.” Verona added, resting her spear over her shoulder, “I think I should try that.”

“You don't need to.” Anton replied while chuckling, “You're blood power is already extremely strong. You won't need tricks like that today...maybe later.”

He held Sam's shoulder and chanted the prayer in his mind. She seemed relieved to feel her muscles and body heal. It did not take much, unlike Verona's first few times where she was still quite sick, so there was not much else to fix.

“How's your head?” Anton asked Kal.

She removed her hand, a tiny bit of blood in the center.

“Hold on, I'll fix that up.”

He held her head recited the healing prayer.

Quite a bit of mana flowed out and into Kal. He saw the look that he gave her, she had never felt the invasion of foreign mana into her body.

The tiny marks and scratches on her face faded away and her skin recovered some color and youth. The weight seemed to disappear from her eyes and she looked a few years younger.

Tears welled in her eyes. Finally she could no longer hold it in and a tear leaked from her eyes.

“Thank-you again, Anton.” She bowed her head slightly.

“It's not a problem.”

“Is it my turn now?” Verona asked.

“I think that's enough for now for Kal. She's still recovering, especially from the way my mana felt.”

Verona looked a little disappointed but still seemed happy.

Sam and Jeff finished their tender moment and came over to Anton, Verona and Kal.

“How'd she do?” Verona asked before Anton could.

“She did very well,” Sam replied, “Some of the things she did, I would not like to have seen those from a Yellow Goblin.”

Sam looked towards Kal.

“You've got speed and surprise on your side, but you don't have much strength. Now, I'm not the strongest person here, but I could stop your blade with some effort.”

Kal bit on her lower lip and looked down to the ground.

“That being said I'm sure you'll get even stronger, now that Anton can heal you and you .” Sam pointed towards Verona. “Verona was not that strong at first, now she's quite terrifying. Even without her power.”

Blitz fighter, not much staying power but god help you if you fight her unprepared or overconfident. She'll be terrifying once she properly rested and strengthened.

“What is your power?” Kal asked Verona. “Tethra did not say anything about it.”

Verona smiled, this time Anton cut her off before she could speak.

“You also mentioned that you can use things like bows?” Anton asked Kal. Verona puffed her cheeks in response to Anton interrupting her.

“Yes.” Kal looked over to the archery range. The villagers stole glances back but still continued to practice. “But I have not used crossbows before.”

“I think we can answer both questions at once.” Anton said as he offered his hand to Verona.

She took this as the sign to collect blood, taking her blade and making a small incision. Her body glowed red as she drew up a small ball of blood before Anton healed the wound. Kal looked on very disturbed.

“Have you heard of what she is?” Anton asked, “Someone called her a 'Blood Berserker'.”

Kal snapped out of her trance and looked at Anton.

“I was just wondering if you had heard the name for whatever power it is she uses.”

“I've heard it called something like that, but it was a very long time ago.”

“Anything good?” Verona asked with a smirk.

Kal shook her head.

“I don't know that much. They follow the Demi-Goddess, Jira, That's all really.”

Verona laughed a little.

“So that's her name, she barely speaks to me and when she does it's really scary.”

Kal lightly and awkwardly smiled.

“Anyway, let's see how Avery handles us taking over his range for a bit.” Anton said as he led them over.

“Anton,” Dana spoke up, who had remained quiet through the sparring session, “I'm going to get the other scouts and get them to work. It's good to see you, and that you remembered my name.”

Dana smiled, as warmly as she could, waved and headed back to the village. There was more of an upbeat nature to her stride. Anton hoped it would continue.

After putting the weapons back they headed over to the archery range. Jeff's friend, who seemed okay with the presence of a Beast-kin at least in Anton's presence, whistled loudly and waved for the few villagers still present to head inside. Avery's group downed their weapons into another weapon rack and headed towards the village themselves with Avery staying behind.

Kal kept her head down, receiving some odd looks but the villagers remained silent. Anton did not know how much of that was because they honestly were curious or afraid of doing anything in his presence. They knew he could destroy most of an army by himself, and Verona could probably do the same, so he guessed it was the latter for the moment. Kal seemed to know this as well and remained close to him.

Avery frowned when he saw that Kal was a Beast-kin but said nothing about it.

“Afternoon Anton,” he began, “These crossbows have come as a truly welcome addition. We've got them mostly figured out and are know focusing on speed and accuracy, in case you were wondering.”

Avery spoke in his usual dry and cold demeanor. His eyes kept glancing over at Kal but he remained focused mainly on Anton and Jeff.

“So what can I do for you?”

“We need a bow for Kal, our new Beast-kin villager.” Anton explained, nodding towards Kal who was standing beside him.

“She says she can use a bow so we want to see how good she is with it. She seems pretty good with a sword, needs some more strength though.”

Avery looked again at Kal, who looked up at Avery.

Seeing a Beast-kin that close was a bit of a shock to Avery, but he suppressed it and smiled. Everyone knew it was fake but said nothing.

He got an average looking bow from the rack and a few arrows and handed them to Kal. Anton saw the deliberate action for him not to touch her clothed hands when she took it.

There were people on Earth that would not touch a seat that a black person had sat on. Sorting these things out will take a long time, if it's even possible.

Kal took the bow and plucked at the string. She nodded in approval.

“It looks and feels pretty good. Did you make this?” Kal looked towards Avery.

Avery was shocked by the question.

“No. We got these before the collapse of the Kar Kingdom and they've been in our families for some time. We've done our best to keep them in good condition.”

Kal nodded in appreciation, taking her position at the front of the archer range.

Verona tugged at Anton's sleeve.

“What was the other question that was meant to be answered?” she asked, “One was to see how good Kal is with a bow...”

“The other is to show her what kind of power you have, manipulating blood. I'm more interested in seeing what sort of range you have. It was about twenty meters before, but we should always make sure.”

Verona looked a little blankly towards him.

“I know, roughly, how far each of my different types of magic can go before they loose control. But, I don't with yours. Every time you've been fighting it's been very close.”

“Ah...” Verona murmured in agreement.

“It's important to know your limits. So, this is a good chance to see how far you can control your blood.”

“Gotcha'.” she said happily, pulling him down and kissing him.

Avery backed off and joined the group as Verona activated her power and stood next to Kal.

“So Kal, do you want to go first?” she asked.

There was a little twitch on her face as she looked up at Kal, her annoyance at being short coming through again.

“Um, sure.”

Kal rotated both of her shoulders and knocked the arrow.

“What am I aiming at?”

Anton looked down the range, large wooden planks with rough circles drawn on the centre. There were some targets very close, about ten meters, right up to almost a hundred meters away.

“For now, just the one at about ten...yards.”

Kal looked at the nearest one.

“I'll give it a go.”

She closed one of her eyes and started mumbling her 'you can do this' mantra as before. She glanced back to Anton, then back to the target. As she pulled the bow string back her arms shook slightly, drawing it tight before releasing. The arrow flew forward and struck the center of the target.

As she lowered her bow Anton saw the same look as before with Sam, the one where it looked like she was staring right through the target, whatever it was.

“Not bad,” Anton mused. “You want to have a go now, Verona?”

“Just throw a spear, right?” she asked, Anton nodding in agreement.

Verona pulled up the blood that she had stored and formed a long thin spear. She brought it so it hovered just above her hand, gripped it and threw it like a javelin. Anton was not sure if she needed to throw it with her hands rather than her power, but if it helped there was no problem.

The spear smashed through the center of the targets, all the way to the twenty meter mark. After that the blood crystals began to quiver but still retained it's overall shape. At almost the thirty meter mark the spear shattered and embedded itself into the target. There was strain on Verona's face as she tried to push it forward. Eventually she gave up and relinquished her control. The blood turned back into liquid and splattered onto the ground.

Verona still looked happy at her achievement. Before she had not been able to control it further than twenty meters, her control seemed to be increasing. She jumped into the air in celebration. The three targets that she had smashed through had a hole in the center and the last had the shards hit the center.

“Well done Ver.” Anton said as he came up and hugged her.

Kal seemed equally impressed as did the others.

“It seems you've gotten better. Though now it's mixed in with the dirt, it's rather worthless” Anon lamented as he looked towards the last target.

Verona smiled and looked to Kal.

“How far can you shoot an arrow?” Verona asked. “I think Avery and the other archers can get pretty close to the targets at the end.”

“It's been a while, but I think I can do it.”

Kal took another arrow and drew the bow, her arms quivered under the strain. Her eyes were focused at the furthers target as she took a deep breath and exhaled. She aimed it slightly up and released.

The arrow soared and landed, with a satisfying thunk, into the furthest target. It had not hit the mark, only the wood outside. Anton thought that was an impressive feat but did not miss the look of annoyance on Kal's face.

She took another arrow and tried again. This one landed in the target mark.

“Bloody hell.” Avery said as he looked at the target.

“Do your eyes allow you to see things better than ours?” Anton asked.

“I don't know. I've only had these.” Kal replied, rubbing just below her eyes.

Anton could not reply or retort. There was nothing wrong with what she had said. Her face was still blank, so he figured that she was just being honest rather than trying to through a quip.

“Anyway, that's very impressive. I would ask you to do more now but you still aren't in the best shape.” Anton said.

Kal realized that she had difficulty in drawing back the bow.

“For now, we'll be training for strength. I'll be using my prayer magic to heal your muscles, it should speed everything up.”

“Yes Anton.” Kal said with a bow of her head.

“You don't need to bow your head each time you say my name.”

“...a habit.” Kal answered as she looked towards the north east.

“Avery, can we spare a bow and some arrows for Kal?” Anton asked.

Avery nodded.

“We have a few spares, and with the crossbows, it won't be a problem.”

Anton let go of his hold of Verona and walked over to Avery so the others could not here.

“This isn't just because a Beast-kin used it?”

Avery hesitated before answering. “No. It's not.”

He refused to give anything more.

Guess everyone has their limit. If this is the worse thing than we'll do fine...except for that archer from the gate.

“Kal, keep care of that. It's yours now.”

She looked at the bow in her hands then back at Anton. She was about to bow her head but resisted, returning a light smile.

“I don't have anything more to do today, so I think it would be a good excuse to get some exercise.” Anton said as he pulled out his short iron sword, “I have this thing but I really don't have much idea how to use it. Verona tried to help me once but it wasn't enough.”

Jeff laughed, somewhat wickedly.

“I'll help ya'. Great chance to get to hit our legendary mage without getting roasted.”

“So, why don't you two practice with each-other?” Sam asked Verona and Kal. “You seem to get along okay.”

Verona shrugged while Kal looked a little concerned.

“I won't use my blood power. It'll be good to see how I fare without it.” Verona tried to reassure Kal, succeeding somewhat.

They each took their practice weapons and paired off as the villagers started to return from lunch. The instructor got them back to training, most keeping quiet about Kal, who still had her hood and outer cloak removed.

The light sparing session carried on for almost an hour until Kal slumped onto the ground out of exhaustion. She had done very well for fighting against Verona, getting in quite a few hits, which Verona seemed quite impressed by.

Anton had done far worse, not being as physically fit as he could be. However, by the end, he was starting to do much better. He just hoped that he would not have to rely on his swordsmanship. Anton spent most of his remaining mana on healing everyone.

After that, Anton felt it was time to introduce Kal to the remainder of the council.

---[]---

The sun was starting to hang low in the east in the afternoon, something that still played with Anton's mind, as a few members of the council were called. Really though, it was just Jonathan and Zac that were coming, as they had not seen Kal in some way. He hoped that they would be okay with a Beast-kin living in the village. Jeff had sent some villagers to get them both to the main hall to get them.

Kal took back her cloak and covered her head with her hood as she re-entered the village. Anton found it impressive that she was adapting so quickly, at least she appeared to be.

Jonathan, his children, and Zac had already arrived and were waiting outside the main hall. Shawn was being wrangled into control by his father while Zac and Joclyn were talking amongst themselves.

When they saw Anton approach they stopped, their eyes focusing on Kal. Even with her hood covering her ears, her Beast-kin eyes were still visible.

They seemed a little surprised, just like everyone was the first time.

“Zac, Jonathan, Shawn and Joclyn. This is Kal, she's a Beast-kin. She's going to be living with us for the foreseeable future. Kal, these are Zac and Jonathan. They are in charge of construction and the forges respectively. And these are Shawn and Joclyn.”

“Hello!” Shawn and Joclyn yelled as they waved to Kal. They seemed oblivious to what a Beast-kin meant.

“Hello.” Kal awkwardly replied.

“Lad, I take it that you've already made your mind up?” Zac asked, his tone seemed to be just a question rather than him judging his decision.

“Yes. She seems to be a good person, and is willing to help us out. I think that's more than enough of a reason to let her stay for now.”

Zac seemed happy with the answer but Jonathan less so.

“I...I am not so sure about this.” Jonathan had a somewhat pained expression. “But, I trust you.”

Anton looked back to Kal, she seemed a little happy. She saw him looking and smiled.

“At least they are honest. Though I think that most are being nice because you are here.” Kal said quietly.

Anton could not help but agree.

“For now, yes. But with time, they may change.”

Kal nodded and took a step back.

“Anyway, I just wanted you two to meet Kal, and not let the rumours do the talking.”

“That's good to know Lad, I've never actually seen a Beast-kin before. To be honest, I think only people as old as Bertram would have.”

Kal looked like she wanted to hide again but Anton bumped her forward so she could speak for herself.

“A...Actually, I'm a half-breed. My mother was a Beast-kin and my...father was a human.”

“I guess-”

Zac stopped as Kal's head snapped to the south. She started sniffing at the air while her head twitched about.

The wind was coming from the south, but Anton could not smell anything.

“What's wrong?” Anton asked.

She took one final sniff as her face scrunched up in worry.

“Kobolds. A lot of them.” she said, turning to the rapidly worrying others, “They're coming from the south, can you not smell them?”

Verona sniffed at the air.

“Nope.”

“Jeff!” An armed villager cried as she ran up to him, already out of breath. “There are Kobolds coming from the south, hundreds of them. They've just entered the Thumper fields. They don't seem very friendly.”

“Why did you not sound the horn then?” Jeff asked, rather angrily, “That's why we have them. And that's why we trained for this! So you wouldn't have to run about to find someone!”

The woman looked increasingly scared and afraid.

“Do it!” Jeff yelled, the woman running off at great speed towards the south.

“Looks like your return was well timed.” Jeff said to Anton and Verona.

Jonathan and Zac raced off into the village while Anton and Verona followed Jeff and Sam, leaving Kal standing bewildered by the sudden action.

Anton stopped and turned back to Kal.

“Come on Kal, don't just stand there.”

“Yes, Anton!” she shouted, being jolted back to reality.

She ran after them towards the south.

------------

Hello,

Bit of a wait since the last i know, except I've been having long shifts and it's been quite tiring. Now I'm on more regular hours so I've been able to finish these two.

Anyway, this chapter i wanted to show that Kal is a quick and probably dirty fighter but doesn't have much staying power, also that she's smart enough to recognize that she's mainly welcome because it's at the behest of a walking arsenal of magic.

Some other people, such as Sam and importantly Dana, make their return. Dana's going to have more to play in the future.

So, thanks for reading.

Chapter 027 - Kobolds

Chapter 026 pt.2

A horn sounded from the south, short and sharp, as they arrived at the southern gate.  Anton saw the villager using the horn, it looked liked a hollow horn from some unknown beast. They ran up the steps on the side of the gate. The villagers either side looked very nervous.

“Where are they?” Jeff asked.

The woman from before pointed out past the bone yards and to the dimples in the grass which denoted the Thumper fields.

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. We'll need to go hunt one of them one day and try that experiment again.

Slowly moving through the Thumper fields were hundreds of small brown and white creatures.

They were covered in fur, had animal ears, short tails and a dog's or fox's snout for a face. Out of their backs were several large, randomly placed, bone-like spikes about half a foot long, their tips were a pale green and looked wet under that late suns light. Each wore an extra layer of patchwork skins over their chests that continued down to their knees, each also wielding a crudely fashioned wooden spear.

Unlike Kal there was nothing about them that looked or could be called remotely human.

“Are those Kobolds?” Anton asked. “They look...”

He looked to Kal who nodded but also grimaced.

“There's...three hundred and twenty seven of them.” Kal added. “And yes, they do have a resemblance to us Beast-kin.”

That could be one reason why Beast-kin seem so hated.

“You really can see well, huh?” Verona asked, Kal not knowing how to answer. She seemed not to care about their similarity.

“So, what do you think we should do?” Anton asked Jeff.

He looked a little confused towards Anton but seemed to realize what he was trying to say.

“Right, we need to be able to defend ourselves properly even when your not here.”

“You're in charge of the soldiers, but I'll help when I'm needed.”

Jeff smiled at hearing that.

“Where's Avery?” Anton asked, “We need all the ranged weapons we can get.”

A few seconds later there were more approaching villagers. Over a hundred fully armed villagers emerged from behind the buildings, Avery and another thirty odd ranged villagers behind him. He and the ranged villagers raced up the stairs and onto the wall, the other villagers standing in a rough formation behind the gate and wall.

“Sorry I'm late.” Avery raised his hand in apology, “It took us a while to get everything together and ready. From now on, with your permission, I would like them to be stored somewhere near the center of Atros. That way we can get them and respond more quickly.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Anton said, Jeff agreeing as well. “Anyway, get ready, we have Kobolds to fight. What ever they are.”

With a wave of his hand the archers and crossbowmen fanned out along the wall. There were not that many of them, about thirty in total, but they made a difference last time and that was against several thousand. They would be a great help now.

“What are Kobolds, anyway?” Anton asked.

Kal was the first to answer, before anyone else could.

“They are a monster race just like the goblins. They send out raiding parties like this to steal and take whatever they can for their tribe, killing anything in the way. Though, there's never just one group.”

Kal looked around the southern horizon.

“There are probably a dozen of these parties roaming around now.”

“Should we attack first?” Verona asked, the height of the wall being just below Anton's chest so she could see over.

“Maybe.” Anton replied. “It looks like they are coming straight for us, and there's no way that they cannot see this city. At least it's not the capital goblins making a move on Atros.”

“What type are they?” Kal asked hesitantly.

“Green Goblins at the capital ruins,” Verona answered, “There were yellow ones from the mountain.”

“Green Goblins, as you call them, are very frail. As they are so weak they need to attack in swarms, they run away quite easily. I once had to fight off a few at once and I found it relatively easy. There are quite a few varieties out there.”

“What about the yellow ones then?” Verona asked.

“They have decent strength and vision, at least from what I can tell. The Yellow's are not going to run away easily when they decide to attack.”

“You are right about that. At last count, there were several thousand Green Goblins at the old capital.” Anton lamented as he grasped the edge of the parapet. “Who knows how many there are now.”

“At least they haven't tried to take anyone away,” Jeff added, “So they should not be able to breed up too quickly.”

“The Yellow Goblin's kidnapped people?” Kal looked surprised at the others, their attention falling on Anton.

“Quite a few women. They were...forcing them to bear their children. Very nasty. Dana, the one you met before, is the only captive still alive.”

“They killed them? That seems odd.”

“No....I put them down.”

Anton did not like having those memories brought up, but he knew that Kal would have had no possible way to know about that. Seeing his expression darken she looked quite apologetic, though Verona, out the corner of his eye, waved her hands and let her know it was alright.

“Anyway, these Kobolds...” Anton began, removing his hands from the wall, “Do we wait for them to come to us or do we hit first?”

Jeff held his chin in thought, everyone around him was silent.

“If they do see us and think that we have something of value, and they make it back to their main camp, they may decide to attack with everything they have. And we would have no way of knowing when that would be or if any attack was the last.”

Jeff turned to Anton and Verona.

“It would force both of you to stay here, so you wouldn't be able to continue negotiations with Maxill or anyone else. Basically stopping the growth of the village for some time. If what you told us is right, we cannot spare any of that.”

Kal threw a quizzical brow up but said nothing.

“So, we attack?” Anton asked.

Jeff hesitated, “We'll wait for them to get closer then attack. We have walls so we should use them, and then we can chase them down and stop them running back home.”

“The timing seems a little convenient.” Avery said quietly.

Anton was about to rebuke him but could not disagree. The day that a half-breed Beast-kin joined them coincides with their first incident with Kobolds, which looked similar to her, was something that could look a little suspicious. However, Anton thought that there was nothing deceptive about Kal, for the most part.

“It could be.” Anton replied, “But I don't think so. These Kobolds don't seem like the kind of things to work with humans or Beast-kin. You all seem to know what they are though.”

Avery nodded in response.

“We've seen them from time to time but never that many. Guess they've bred up since the kingdom collapsed.”

Another forty armed villagers came to the gate, all looking quite eager for battle. Some of these wore the recovered green Bosciycium weapons. They could carve through the Kobolds so long as they could get into close combat.

“Can someone get Dana and the other scouts and their horses here?” Anton said. “No point waiting for them to run away first.”

A few lightly armed soldiers ran back into the village.

“They're at the beginning of the bone-yard now,” Kal announced, the crossbowmen loading their weapons and archers readying their arrows.

Anton could not help but feel some unease. If the Kobolds were after things to steal, this somewhat obvious attack could be a distraction for another attack somewhere else along the wall. He felt like there was something bigger at play, maybe.

“Jeff, are the rest of the villagers on alert?” Anton asked, “Something's not right with this.”

“Everyone should be,” Jeff said as he pointed to somewhere further down the wall that had more villagers that were on alert and ready, “Something wrong?”

“Just that this attack doesn't make much sense, unless they really think they can break through into the village. Just remember though, that we will only provide help if you need it.”

Jeff agreed, he seemed to like the chance to prove the strength of the villagers.

The sound of horse hooves running on stone came from the center of the village. Dana emerged, leading a dozen horses with armed villagers, wielding spears and small shields. The horses themselves looked like they had armor attached on their chests and side.

“You called for us?” Dana asked, bringing her horse to a halt.

“Really impressive Dana, just keep them ready. We'll need them to chase down the survivors.” Anton replied.

Dana looked at the other riders, they nodded.

“Sure. I'm looking forward to it.”

“Good to hear Dana. Jeff, can you make sure that the gate can be opened quickly, just in case we need to charge forward in a hurry.”

Jeff agreed.

“They're almost here.” Kal announced, everyone crouching low behind the parapet's.

The Kobolds emerged from the bone-yard and continued straight towards them.

“Avery, when they reach about fifty meters...or yards, unleash hell on them. Any sooner and they might just run away without loosing many.”

Avery nodded, sending the order down the line of ranged villagers. The melee villagers took their positions on the wall as well.

The Kobolds broke into a run the moment they emerged from the bone-yard. They did not have anything that looked like bows, but those green tipped spines gave him cause for concern.

Everyone was quiet, waiting for the sounds of arrows and bolts flying through the air.

The first Kobolds reached fifty meters from the wall. Avery gave a low shout, the ranged villagers repeating. They stood up quickly and fired. The arrows and bolts struck the mass of flesh, shrieks emanating from their panicked lines. Their panic did not last long as they girded themselves and charged.

Kal rose as well, firing into the crowd.

Anton gave Verona some blood and readied some fireballs.

To his utter bewilderment the Kobolds continued to run at the walls. The archers and crossbowmen did their best, killing dozens before they smashed into the wall.

We're going to need a lot more crossbows and bows, then they won't even reach the walls.

With a snarl and howl they started clambering over each-other and up the wall. Jeff waved his soldiers forward to the edge, striking them down as they clambered up.

Quite a few managed to clamber over the wall and straight into the villagers. Anton could smell them now, it was like a mixture of vomit and putrefying flesh, though it may have been coming from their spines.

One leapt up infront of Kal, just as she was about to fire another arrow. She shot it between the eyes, its body going limp as it fell back onto the ground. Another attacked from the side. Kal dropped her bow and brought out a dagger, glancing away the wooden stake. It flung clean out of its furred paws, the surprise clear on it's muzzle face.

Instead of panicking it reached onto its back and, with a almighty reef and scream, pulled the spine clean out of its back. It was about a foot long, the root was covered in blood and looked as if it had teeth where the body was attached to it. Verona was fighting another Kobold, more toying with it, and did not see this but Anton was shocked. So much so that the fireballs quivered under his distraction.

He flung the fireballs straight over the wall and onto the Kobolds. Many screamed but it did nothing to dissuade their assault.

The Kobold held the spine towards Kal. The tip looked incredibly dangerous and not something to be cut with. Kal seemed to be of a similar mind. The Kobold lunged forward to try and impale Kal with it.

She brought out her other dagger and waited until the spine was close, twisted down and deflected it with one dagger and brought the other up into its neck. The dagger may have been old but it was more than sharp enough to puncture its fur. With a gurgling groan, it died and fell of the wall and into the village.

Kal looked around, striking and killing another Kobold with the same precision as before.

“What is that?” Verona asked, finishing off her Kobold and returning to Anton.

She was about to pick up pick up the spine when Kal grabbed her hand and stopped her.

“You don't want that on your skin.” she said, kicking it towards the wall. “If you get that on your skin, you'll be in serious trouble. Trust me.”

Verona looked between the spine and Kal. She was about to say something but another Kobold climbed over. Kal leant down and grabbed her bow, aiming at the Kobold. Verona swung her spear and cleaved its head in two above the jawbone.

The body juddered and rolled back off the wall. It fell onto another Kobold attempting to climb up, receiving several spines in its face and body. The dead body rolled off the other Kobold as it began to struggle to pull its body up. Its mouth opened and began to froth as its body shuddered uncontrollably. The strength left its body as it slid down the outer wall.

Anton leant over the wall to look, it had curled itself into a ball and leaked fluids from every orifice. A few seconds later it stopped moving and died.

Guess they aren't immune to their own poison.

He looked back to the other villagers. Some were fighting the Kobolds that had ripped out their spines, though they were keeping their distance.

“Don't let them touch you!” Anton yelled. “Their spines are covered in poison!”

The villagers had seemingly come to the same conclusion. They started bunching together and those with shields move to the front, archers and crossbowmen shot at the Kobolds from behind.

The Kobolds could not make any further progress and began to die in droves against the villagers.

A minute later, nearly all the Kobolds were dead or wounded and they knew it. None of the villagers were anything more than wounded, none had been seriously hit by the spines.

With a howl from the rear of the attack, they began to retreat. Anton wondered why they had not done it sooner, putting it down to them not realizing how many well armed villagers they had. However, their suicidal attack was concerning, he had not heard any other sounds of fighting coming from along the rest of the wall.

Verona summoned ten large blood shards and threw them at the few Kobolds still alive on the wall killing them instantly, to the delight of the villagers.

The archers and crossbowmen took their position at the edge and started shooting at the retreating Kobolds. There must have been roughly fifty that had survived.

“Dana, run them down!”

There was a smirk over Dana's face as she readied her scouts. The gate groaned open, the horses charging out with the scouts cheering as they ran straight towards the fleeing Kobolds. Anton formed a series of lightning bolts and flung them over the at the Kobolds. He had said that he would not interfere, but he had not done much during the quick fight.

The lightning flickered and arced through the air, striking them in the back. Twenty Kobold's fur burst into flames, strange pops came from the spines as they exploded like a flower, spraying their light green poison over the trampled grass.

Dana's horsemen charged forward, though they held them back so they would not impale their horses on the their spines. They ran around them, thrusting their spears from the side and running around them. The odd Kobold skull was crushed under the horses hooves, audible even from the wall.

A few attacks and they were all dead, none made it halfway to the bone-yard. Dana cheered in triumph, something that he did not expect the calm woman to do in celebration. With a whistle she brought the horses back.

“That was impressive, everyone.” Anton said to the villagers. “You basically didn't need our help. You've come a long way since I first got here.”

They let out another cheer, glad that they had survived and done well.

“Anyone that's injured, come to me. I'll heal you.” Anton asked of the villagers.

A few came forth with minor wounds and scratches. Three villagers had wounds that looked like they had been cut by the poison spines, but not very deep. There was already the look of acute pain on their faces as they held those wounds tight.

Healing those took quite a bit of mana, the poison already starting its work.

That poison stuff would be devastating, it seems that a bit is needed for it to kill instantly like unlucky Kobold....guess that aren't immune to their own stuff. We should probably coat some arrows with it and see how it works.

With the wounded villagers healed Anton, Verona and Kal exited the village, making sure they did not get too close to the dead and still poisonous Kobold corpses. Some appeared to still be moving.

“Verona, could you please take care of them?” Anton asked, gesturing to the field of corpses.

Verona nodded, bringing up a dozen small and thin spears. She started smashing them through the  head. Every so often one would groan as it was still alive. The villagers looked on blankly but Kal seemed a little disturbed.

“Well done Dana. Looks like your training really paid off.” Anton said to Dana as she stopped her horse next to Anton.

“It was not much,” she replied, “A good chance to get them some exercise, even if it was only for a moment.”

Dana stroked the neck of the horse. It seemed to enjoy it.

“Where any of the horses hit with that poison?”

Dana looked around, receiving shaking heads in return.

“Looks like they are fine. We'll let you know if they start to act any differently.”

Verona came back up to Anton. It had not taken her long before she had finished making sure they were dead. Her face was beaming, like she wanted to be praised.

“We didn't really do all that much.” he said as he rubbed her head.

“Yeah, that was annoying.” she said, shrugging dismissively, “But at least you got to train our magic a little. Also, Kal did very well.”

“She did indeed.” Dana said as she smiling, “I saw her take quite a few Kobolds down, even after they ripped out their spines.”

“Jeff, did you know they could do that?” Anton asked Jeff. He had come down from the wall and had just exited the gate.

“I've never faced Kobolds before.” he answered, looking a little awkward. “I only know a few stories about them. Didn't say anything about those spines though.”

Anton turned to Kal. She was still a little disturbed by Verona's actions, though she was quickly recovering.

“You said there were raiding parties,” Kal's ears pricked up as Anton talked to her, “Do you know where they would camp?”

Kal looked to the south.

“They would not be too far away, half a day at most. I don't know if they would have somewhere they would want to camp though.”
Anton nodded in appreciation.

It's too much to just expect Kal to know every little thing about the beasts and monsters of the world. Still, there may be something on them that could give us a clue.

He leant down and looked at one of the dead Kobold's feet, hoping to find something. The walking and grass had removed just about everything, but in the depths of the pads of its feet was sand. A familiar coloured sand.

“Kal, could they have made camp near a lake?” Anton asked as he stood up.

Kal nodded. “Yes they could....You think they have made camp at the lake?”

“Possibly. But there's no way to be sure until we scout it out.” Anton turned to Dana.

She smiled and patted her horse again.

“We'll be fast. We'll find them and then come back before dark.“ She looked to the other scouts, “Let's go!”

The gave a cheer, whipped at the reins, and the horses galloped off to the south-east.

Anton turned to the others. They still seemed quite energetic despite having just fended off an attack.

“We need to get rid of these bodies before they foul the place.” Anton said.

“But they've got those spines on them,” Verona replied, “I don't want to get any of that poison stuff on me.”

“Actually, Kal, do you know how to remove these spines without getting the poison on us?”

Kal shook her head.

“Oh well. We'll just get some thick leather when we handle those that they have already ripped out. Everyone, grab a body and drag it away, carefully.”

With a groan, the villagers started to remove the corpses. Despite a few near incidents they were all dragged away into the bone-yard. Anton also got some villagers to collect some loose spines, with thick pieces of cloth, and put them in a barn. He hoped that he could get some thick gloves in Maxill, nothing like that was available in Atros, so they could harvest the poison.

As the scouts would not return for some time Anton headed back inside the city walls.

---[]---

News of the battle traveled fast. Strangely, most people seemed interested in what Kal did during the battle. The similarities between her and the Kobolds was not lost upon them. However, as they heard how she killed quite a few and with little mercy, their attitude took a positive step. Not much, but a step. The villagers no longer looked like they wanted to get rid of her to just wanting to keep her distant.

However, there was trouble of a different kind brewing at the central plaza. As Anton came past the last building he saw fifty odd people arguing. Half were the old villagers while the other half were the released bondsmen, who did not look to happy.

“We were told this place was safe!” one of the former bondsmen said.

“They were repelled with nobody dying or getting really injured.” A villager replied, trying his best calm them down. He seemed relieved when he saw Anton.

Anton looked back to Kal, she still had her hood down and her Beast-kin ears on display.

“Kal, you had better cover your head. I don't want them to get even angrier at seeing a Beast-kin.”

Kal covered her head with the hood. The only hint that she was a Beast-kin were her eyes.

“Verona, can you take Kal to the main hall? While they cannot see her ears they might recognize her eyes.”

“Got it,” Verona replied, “We'll get something to snack on.”

Verona gave a little wave and left with Kal. The other villagers, except Jeff and a few of his soldiers, returned to their previous duties. Avery took his ranged villagers back to the training field to improve their skills.

Anton took a deep breath and walked towards the still arguing villagers. When the saw him and Jeff approaching they all stopped, the new villagers still looked quite angry.

“What's happening?” Anton asked, hoping it was not about Kal and Beast-kin hatred. “I take it that most of you have settled in?”

“How safe is this place?” one of the new villagers asked, he was the same one that at Maxill that had said that they would be safe with him.

“I didn't get your name at Maxill.”

“It's Raston.” he looked to the others, who started to calm down. “We just heard that there was a Kobold attack on the south wall.”

“Yes, there was.” Anton answered.

“And...?”

Anton looked around.

“And we won, with no casualties. They crashed against our walls and were slaughtered by a flurry of swords, spears and arrows.”

Raston looked still nervous.

“How wild is this village that we moved to?”

“Did you never have to fend off monsters or beasts of any kind in the Qaiviel Kingdom?”

Raston grimaced and awkwardly nodded.

“Most of them are kept under control, even in Maxill. I've never seen anything more than a few Green Goblins coming out of the forest.”

Jeff suppressed a laugh.

“We have fought off a Yellow Goblin army of almost six thousand. Armored and fierce.” Jeff said triumphantly. “That many Kobolds was virtually nothing.”

Anton was not going to point out that they survived the Yellow Goblin assault because of his magic. Raston and the other new villagers looked in a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“If you feel nervous we could get you and the new villagers to begin training first thing tomorrow, how to handle a sword and spear properly.” Anton looked to Jeff who nodded, “You don't look like you got any practice back at Maxill.”

“No. Only those that followed the Duchess got any equipment or training.”

“Everyone here, young and old, know how to defend themselves. I think it would be good for everyone to at least know that.”

Raston smiled awkwardly.

“I...I suppose. We're still a little bit nervous.”

“I can understand that,” Anton replied, “Seeing them up close is still not pleasant.”

“Tomorrow,” Jeff began, “We're going to get you guys to begin working. Building the wall higher should be a good way to make this place safer. If we can get it high enough they won't be able to climb up. Are you guys any good at laying stone.”

“I guess? We sort of had to do whatever we were told before.”

“Then I think that most of you will be going to help Zac then.” Jeff replied.

Anton looked to the sun hanging very low in the sky.

“I think it's time for dinner now. Once we get that under-way we can talk more and introduce you to him.”

Raston seemed quite happy that this, and so did the other new villagers, that there concerns were actually going to be listened to. Before they were probably just dismissed without any consideration.

Jeff led them away, hopefully to find Zac wherever he was now.

Anton remembered that he needed to ask him about how well the new miners had done in their scouting for minerals. He turned back to the main hall, finding Verona leaning against the wall while Kal stood patiently beside her.

“Did it go well?” Verona asked as he approached. “They don't seem to be angry anymore.”

“To be honest, I'm not sure.” Anton honestly replied, rubbing the back of his head. “I think they are just scared about being in a new place, hearing that there are monsters and beasts roaming around. I was terrified the first time I saw a Yellow Goblin. They've probably been inside a walled city their whole life.”

Anton turned to watch them walking away. “I hope that Jeff can convince them better than me.”

He turned to Kal.

“We had best show you to house now Kal. Just in case something happens you know where you can sleep.”

Kal was about to protest getting a house for herself so easily but Anton held up his hand to stop her.

“I'll just go and see if Bertram's in and get the location.”

---[]---

Bertram had one of the villagers guide them to the house. It was a few down from his new one on the other side of the alley.

Although it was small it looked quite good, the villagers had done a good job at rebuilding it so quickly.

“This...this is to much for someone like me.” Kal muttered as she stared at the house.

Verona started looking Kal up and down, a frown forming on her face.

“Where's your stuff Kal?” Verona asked, some surprise in her voice, “Did you only have the daggers and your clothes?”

Kal smiled awkwardly as she nodded. Anton frowned at Verona for asking a rather blunt and undiplomatic question.

“I traveled light. I also didn't have anything else worth taking.”

“I didn't have much either. Two sets of clothes, one that's stained now with blood, and a few other things.”

Verona paused for a bit.

“I still don't have that much. But I have my spear, my armor, my new boots, food and shelter, and Anton. So I think it's going pretty well.”

She seemed quite happy, burrowing her way underneath Anton's arm.

Kal back looked to the house and pushed the door open. She entered the house, followed by Anton and Verona.

Inside was a single large open room. On the far side there was a bed with a fur rug, a chair and a table. It was very little but probably had more comfort than Kal had been offered in her whole life.

If she was carrying something, this was the point where she would drop it. He could see on the way she took a few tentative steps that she was gobsmacked.

“I...I” was wall she could manage as she walked over to the bed. She touched it and recoiled, like it was not real.

“I'm glad you like it.” Anton said. “In a bit of time you can get some more things, should you wish.”

Kal turned back to him and shook her head whilst she smiled.

“This is better than anything I could have hoped for.”

“How was it sleeping out there alone?” Verona asked.

“Cold, wet and quite frighting. Especially during the thunderstorms that last for days. I can get quite hungry through those if I haven't got enough food before hand.”

“There's another thing, Kal.” Anton began, “Something I don't really want to have to bring up but I feel like I should.”

Kal tilted her head.

“I'm saying...that as someone new, and especially as you're a beast-kin, you should definitely keep yourself armed at all times. You might also want to consider putting the table to bar the door when you go to sleep.”

Verona caught on to what he meant, Kal taking a few seconds more.

“Do you think that could honestly happen?” Kal asked, some concern of her face.

“Probably not. But I want you to be prepared just in case.”

“Cutting the inside of their legs with my claws has always worked.” she replied. There was a tiny hint of pride.

“Those hunters?” Verona asked.

“One managed to catch me once. He didn't just want to capture me though. He thought that without my daggers I was defenseless. My feet begged to differ.”

“Dead?”

Kal nodded.

“Your feet are the same as your hands?” Anton asked.

Kal smiled awkwardly. She seemed like she did not want to reveal that fact just yet.

“They are.”

“Huh,” Anton replied, “I don't think there's much of settling in to do. So, why don't we go and see how dinner is going.”

“What do you normally have?” Kal asked.

“Usually it's just the same as lunch, but after that battle I think we'll probably have some roast Razor-Pig. Very delicious, you'll start drooling the second you smell it.”

“It sounds good....what's a second?” Kal asked.

Ah damn. Another slip.

“Yes. Just a fragment of what I can remember.”

Kal glanced at Verona, Verona kept a straight face. He was not sure if she would drop it but could not check without making things more difficult.

“Anyway, let's go.”

When they exited Kal's new home they found a villager running towards him.

“Anton.” she began, “I was told to come find you. We've seen the scouts returning on the horizon.”

“Excellent. Make sure Dana reports to me, I'll be in the central plaza helping with dinner.”

The woman saluted and ran off towards the eastern wall.

“Better go help out,” Anton said, beginning to walk to the plaza, “It would be a good chance to get to meet some of the villagers that aren't soldiers.”

Kal smiled and followed them both.

---[]---

Zac caught up to Anton just before he reached the central plaza.

“Evening Anton, Verona....Kal.” he said, respectfully nodding to Kal.

“By the way you're jumping around I'm thinking that you found what you wanted?”

“Absolutely.” Zac tried to suppress a smile, “The guys managed to find some signs that there's some coal and iron almost at the base of the mountain. They dug a bit and found a few seams of coal and iron barely a foot down into to the ground. They had to return as it was starting to get dark.”

“Fantastic, when can we expect to get a regular supply?”

“Couple of days, just to get everything set up. Next time you go to Maxill, can you get us a few more carts? We're starting to run into problems as we have so few.”

“Not a problem.”

Zac smiled and started walking with them towards the central plaza.

“It seems you did very well against the Kobolds.” Zac said to Anton, then glanced at Kal. “Since they could look sort of similar, was there-”

“There was something like that, but after watching her kill quite a few Kobolds their tone changed.”

“Good to hear. Anyway, I've got a few things to finish before dinner. See you there.” Zac finished as  he gave a wave and ran off.

They walked in silence, Kal seemed to a bit happier knowing that attitudes towards her were changing. As they arrived at the central plaza they were waved over, Sybil and many of the women were preparing and asked for their help.

Preparing for the dinner was quite an ordeal, especially for so many villagers.

Anton spent the quarter of an hour mainly serving as a mobile source of fire for roasting the Razor-Pig. It was a bit demeaning but everyone, including him, found it quite fun. Verona helped with cutting the meat. She wanted to use her blood power but Anton stopped her, much to her annoyance. Kal helped as well with the vegetables. At the beginning it was very awkward but one finally plucked up the courage to ask her how she had fought during the battle with the Kobolds. After explaining, and getting a confirming nod from Anton and the other soldiers, they started acting more friendly. Kal was starting to warm to them as well, but she kept some distance and always held a weapon of some sort.

Quite a few of the new villagers had joined in as well, Anton's actions helped take the edge off their tenseness.

The thunderous sound of horse hooves announced the return of Dana and the scouts. Anton put out his fires and moved towards her.

Dana and her horses came to a halt infront of Anton, they all looked quite tired. They all dismounted their horses and began leading them away.

I don't know where the horses are kept, or how many there are in the village. I think it might just be this many. How many Ix do we have? And can they be used like horses? War pigs or something?

His tangential thoughts were stopped by Dana as she stopped infront of him.

“Everyone seemed to return safely, did you find the Kobold camp?”

“We did. It was near the lake, basically on the shore.” Dana began to explain in her dry tone, “We kept our distance but we did see them hunting for fish or something, though they didn't go very far into the water.”

“When we went there, there were many large fish hiding in the deep water. We'll strike them tomorrow and get rid of the threat. I'll be needing to head to Maxill soon and we don't want them to attack when I'm gone, I don't think we have a cure for their poison.”

Dana still looked uncomfortable, like she had more to say.

“Do they have more numbers than we thought?”

“No, that's not it. They only have a few thousand at most.”

Dana took a sheet of paper out of a satchel attached to the horse.

“One of the scouts brought some paper and a stick of charcoal by accident. It turns out that it was very important.”

She unrolled the sheet of paper. On it was the drawing of a large wooden totem pole, a circular stone placed on the top and lashed to the totem. The stone had been carved into a rough shape of a leaf with what could be antlers either side. Anton felt it was not their artistic ability but the ability of the Kobolds. Something about it seemed familiar about it.

“Kal?” Anton asked loudly, Kal putting down her tools and rushing over.

“Do you recognize this icon?” he asked. He hoped that Kal might have knowledge of it.

“It's an insignia of the forest goddess, Nithroel. She's usually shown as an elf of immense beauty, so much so that most just call her the elven goddess. This is from the Kobold camp?”

Dana nodded.

“It's very odd for them to worship an old god. It doesn't make much sense.”

Kal looked to Anton.

I might know why. Startos and Esperit told me that the gods can watch over anywhere in the world. It seems the Elven goddess has taken notice and not for the better. Maybe the Kobolds are the only things she could influence straight and not attract more attention from my gods or neutral ones. Maybe risk the beasts but not her own elves. Although, this is all speculation without talking to my gods.

“Anything about this Nithroel? I don't think that my gods like her much.”

“I know that very few humans or Beast-kin worship her, she seems to favor elves exclusively. I don't think Tethra, the prayer goddess, is friendly to her. You think that there's a connection?”

“Yes. But I cannot be sure. Thank-you for that Kal, at least I have a name now.”

Kal nodded and returned to her work. Dana looked on concerned.

“Have we gotten involved in a battle of gods?”

Anton took a deep breath.

“I certainly hope not. But if we have, we have even less time now.”

------------------

Hello again,

I wrote both of these as one chapter but they became so long that i decided to split them up so it would be easier to read, also that it helps to break it up.

A quick battle, even though it was a quick and small one I think it shows that they've come a long way.

On the Kobolds, even though they have poison in their spines they aren't immune to it. It needs quite a bit to do the trick, but I wanted something a little more bizarre than the usual dog-people. Also, another reason why Beast-kin are so hated, a similar looking species wants to pillage anything they can get their paws on. More about the Kobolds will come a little later.

I finally decided on a name for the Elven goddess. While one can send help they can also send destruction towards them, though the gods can only properly communicate with those with glyphs and others take vague messages. Imagine what a simple animal would see and comprehend from seeing it. It won't get to the stage of the gods throwing armies at each-other but they will try.

So, thanks for reading and be kind in your comments. It is a little nerve wracking to put these up. The next chapters may be a bit more sporadic than now.

Chapter 028 - Strike

Chapter 028:

Anton's sleep that night was short and troubled, after a pleasant dinner. The new villagers had started to relax, much to Anton's delight. They were going to help with construction and farming, only a few wanted to join the soldiers, they would be joining with their attack on the Kobolds. While Verona slept soundly and deeply in his arm, occasionally searching across his body for warmth, he was kept being awake by the troubling things revealed from the Kobold camp.

The idea that the gods were beginning to take a more active role around him filled him with a sense of joy and dread in equal measure. Tethra sending Kal, and potentially who knows what that Esperit and Stratos could also send, was a pleasant surprise.

But the Kobolds, the feral dog-like creatures with their totem to Nithroel, the elven goddess, filled him a sense of impending doom for their growing village.

It started to make him question quite a number of things that had happened.

Did the Yellow Goblins manage to become influenced by her? Did they start to attack in earnest as they knew that he would be arriving? Was that strange goblin, the one covered in pustules and basically sewn into his armor, directly affected by their equivalent of a glyph given by the goddess?

While Anton did not have any real way to answer the questions that swirled in his head, it gnawed at his mind.

By the time the sun was starting to shine through the wooden window he had only had a few hours sleep at best. The light began to pierce his eyes as it did the same for Verona. She mewled cutely as she stretched and turned onto her front. The moment their eyes made contact she frowned.

“You didn't get much sleep.” she said as she pulled herself up so their heads were at the same level.

“No, thinking about the Kobold camp kept me awake.”

She laughed, wrapping her right hand around his cheek.

“After today there shouldn't be a problem. They'll be gone and we can continue on with your plan. I'm taking that it's getting more people and weapons for now?”

“Basically. This village is hardly a fighting force, with barely a little over a thousand people.”

“That makes us very important, doesn't it?”

Anton smiled, Verona taking that as a yes, jumping and straddling his waist.

“Then what?” she asked as she entwined her hands with his, “Once we get, say, twenty or thirty thousand people. All working together, armed with those funny drawings of yours...then what?”

There was not the question of whether or not she was going to be replaced but a genuine curiosity of what Anton had planned. If he was completely honest, he did not have much of an idea.

“Well, I think that for now, it's just growth and defense. After a few more deals with Maxill, getting some sort of longer running deal with them for people and resources, we'll head north east to the Grataeris Empire, see what sort of deals we can make with them. That's my plan for now.”

“Any ideas about those demons of yours?”

“None.” Anton raised himself up so she could lean into him. “But I know they're out there somewhere. And if they're not, then so be it. I've enjoyed my time here and want it to continue.”

Verona smiled. She moved their hands so the rested on her shoulders.

“We've got a bit of time, don't we?” she asked with a wicked smile.

---[]---

Anton and Verona finally emerged, both ready for the fight against the Kobolds. Verona took a giant yawn and stretched out her arms, her spear coming quite quite close to his face.

“Will I actually get to fight this time?” she asked, twirling around so she faced him, “The last battle I basically stood around, I want the chance to really show off.”

“Definitely,” Anton replied, Verona's face beaming in response, “I want to see how you've improved. Do you have any new ideas for your magic?”

“A couple. I'm thinking of making a few shapes other than a spear or shards. I was thinking something like a sharp plate that I can throw around and cut them up. What do you think?”

“Sounds like it could be extremely dangerous.” Anton said, as he rubbed her head.

He looked up and around, seeing that there were very few villagers awake at the moment. One caught his attention. Standing still near a house on the other side of the street was a cloaked figure.

It was Kal. She waved when Anton looked at her and walked over. She carried her bow and a quiver  of arrows over her back, the hilts of her daggers showing above her waist.

“Morning Kal!” Verona said, waving her over closer, “You ready for today?”

“I think so.” Kal replied, “I had the best sleep in my whole life.”

“Nobody tried to bother you?” Anton asked.

Kal shook her head, her ears pricking up underneath her hood.

“No. I did move the table as you suggested, but nobody tried. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You planning to stay for longer?”

“I think I will be. People were quite nice to me during dinner, even if some of it was forced.”

“Great,” Verona exclaimed, “I like having you as a training partner and someone roughly my age that I can talk to.  Sam and her friends are quite a bit older and there aren't many people my age that are alive or that I want to talk to. I think that everyone else just needs a little more time to get used to you.”

Kal smiled, one that was not forced.

“How old are you anyway?” Kal asked, “I do not mean to be...rude or invasive-”

“It's fine. I'm twenty....twenty one winters, I think. How old are you?”

“I think that I'm twenty eight, though I really didn’t pay much attention to it.”

“Huh, that makes you older than Anton.” Verona said, Kal looked like she did not know how to react.

Kal looked at Anton but said nothing. The bow moved slightly on her back.

Verona leant around so she could see Kal's back.

“How are you able to keep that bow attached to your back?” Verona asked as she started prodding around the middle of her bow.

Kal turned around so Anton could see. The quiver was attached on an old leather strap that went around her shoulder to her waist, the bow was attached to the side of it with a small leather clasp. It looked very easy to get undone in a hurry. She seemed to be comfortable with wearing it, though she probably would not like to lean against something and crush it.

“Huh.” Verona said as she started prodding around Kal's back and quiver without her permission. There was an odd look on her face but she said nothing.

“If she's doing something you don't like you just need to tell her.” Anton told Kal. Verona shot him an odd look but continued touching Kal's back, traveling downwards.

“It's okay.” Kal replied. “I'm still getting used to-”

She yelped in surprise as Verona reached just above where her butt would be underneath her cloak. Kal turned around and took a step back, giving Verona an angry glare as she brushed her hand away.

Verona face was a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. Anton threw her a quizzical glare but Verona responded by smiling and throwing her hands up in apology.

“When Kal arrived, Bertram asked if she had a tail. I asked her over dinner if I could see it.”

“And she said no?” Anton asked Verona, looking to Kal who grimaced slightly.

“I was curious. And she does have one, a very fluffy one. That's why she yelped.”

Anton looked to Kal.

“I do have a tail,” Kal answered, “But to a Beast-kin, even a half-breed like me, it's not something you can just grab or touch without permission.”

“Sorry, I was just very curious.” Verona replied, it seemed to be sincere.

“Well, I guess you didn't know. But please ask me first before you do anything like that.”

Verona smiled, Kal slowly returning it.

“Kal,” Anton began, “Please be aware that doing something like that is not exactly normal. So, be sure to tell them.”

Anton moved and rested his arm of Verona's head, her face puffing out in response.

“This one's a bit like Sam in that regard, she can be a bit direct, though not as bad.”

Verona laughed, turning up to him.

“I'm not that bad. Again, I'm sorry that I poked at your tail without asking. I really wanted to know.”

“Are we going to attack the Kobold camp now?” Kal asked, having regained her confidence, “I'm guessing that's why Verona's dressed up in her amour.”

“Correct. I'm thinking that we'll take about a hundred villagers, myself, Verona and you.”

Kal looked quite surprised, though in a happy way. Again he saw her ears prick up.

“You want me to come with you?” she asked. He swear he could see the area where her tail should be move.

“Sure. You could count the number of Kobolds before we could even see them properly. You didn't make the numbers up, did you?”

Kal looked stumped.

“Why would I?” she asked, seemingly not understanding that she could have lied about it.

“Uh,” Anton looked down at Verona who had the same look as him, “I suppose that you could have just guessed to make yourself seem more impressive.”

There was a moment before Kal realized what he meant.

“Oh. I understand what you mean.” Her ears started to droop, knowing that he might be distrusting her.

“I didn't actually mean it.” Anton replied, her ears pricking back up with a hint of a smile. “I guess it was sort of a joke...Basically, I want you there for more than just making seeing if any escape. You can use that bow extremely well, so you'll be coming with us. It'll also help make the people here think better of you.”

Kal looked down for a moment, thinking it over. She nodded, gripping her hands into fist.

“Okay, I'll join. Sounds like a good plan. Are we taking horses or the carts?”

“Not sure,” Anton replied, “We'll have to find out at the plaza, hopefully more people will be awake soon. I think it'll be both; Dana's horse scouts and about a hundred or so soldiers should be more than sufficient with Verona and myself there.”

“Is your magic really going to be enough?” Kal asked, “When the Kobolds attacked you could use some quick fire magic...and when I arrived I saw you use two different types of magic at once, though they were small orbs. Will that be enough?”

Verona looked up at him and smirked, he could not help but return it. She had not seen the battle with the Yellow Goblins so did not know about the full extent of his flame and lightning magic. It would be a good chance to let loose.

“Tethra didn't show you?”

Kal shook her head.

“You may get a demonstration. Anyway, we'll get something to eat, then I think we'll be going.” Anton said, leading them to the central plaza.

“Actually Kal,” Verona asked, “I've been wanting to ask something else about you.”

“What?” Kal sounded a little hesitant to answer.

“When you're happy or sad, your ears go up or down. Do you do that knowingly or does it just sort of happen?”

As they walked Verona looked straight at Kal's face, Anton turned his head to look. There was a slight tinge of red on her tanned face, nothing like Verona was capable of.

“They...they.....both. They can move when I want them to and they can move on their own.” Kal reached up and rubbed the long and un-maimed ear.

“That's cute,” Verona said teasingly, “I wish that my ears could do that.”

“So that I would know whenever your sad or happy?” Anton asked.

Verona nodded.

“Pretty much.” she chuckled, Kal looking a little happier.

“Is your tail the same?” Anton asked.

There was some hesitation to Kal's response.

“Yes. Though, I don't let it out much. It gives away that I'm a Beast-kin.”

“How big is it?” Verona asked.

“That's...” Kal trailed off into nothing and refused to answer.

While they were probably the nicest people she had met in many years, Anton thought that it was still too soon for her to reveal facts about somewhat intimate parts. Especially about one that would have caused her grief throughout the years but still had pride in.

Anton brought Verona underneath his arm and quietly explained his reasoning. Verona seemed to understand and looked a little sombre.

He lent towards Kal.

“We're all just a bit curious, probably more than we should be.”

Kal turned and smiled.

“I don't find it a problem, just a little new and confusing. It's so nice that I can talk to humans. Especially ones that aren't trying to hurt me.”

Kal often seemed to be quite gloomy and tired when she remembered her past. While he could do little to alleviate all of the pain from her memories, he could at least do something rather than just let her stew in those memories.

“Have you drunk any alcohol or booze before?” he asked Kal.

Kal shook her head.

“Never. I need to keep alert at all times. I saw what that stuff does to people, making them slow of mind and body.”

Anton nodded and smiled.

“It does do that, if you have quite a bit. But a bit can help you relax and unwind.”

“We didn't actually have any after we won the battle against the Yellow Goblins, did we?” Verona looked up at him.

“No, we had...other things on our minds.”

Verona flushed a little as she smiled. He was not sure if Kal understood what he meant as she kept her head facing forward, perhaps forcefully so.

“Anyway, when we get back, and if you're comfortable with it, we'll get the people from the council and have a drink. We don't get to the stage where we can't walk, but it should help you relax. Help everyone get to know you better as well.”

Kal pursed her lips, finally giving a light nod.

“I think I should. I'm not sure I'll know how to behave properly.” Kal replied, “During dinner I just sat and ate quietly. Only a few people wanted to talk to me.”

“It's day two of you being here. This should help get you a few more friends.”

“Friends....” Kal looked wistfully to the north east. “Alright, I'll do it.”

Verona smiled.

“Great. Looks like we got a new friend.”

Kal smiled back. Everything that is happening now must seem like it was all happening like a flash of lightning. Anton hopped that it would continue.

They walked in silence for the rest of the trip to the plaza, Kal seemed to have forgiven Verona for violating her privacy.

When they arrived they saw a few of the villagers assembling for the next days work. Jeff had seemingly just arrived, still looking quite sleepy, with Sam at his side. There were quite a few other armed villagers around him. Anton enjoyed not having to explain every little detail to get things moving.

Anton gave him a wave when he saw Jeff looking at them.

“Good morning all,” Jeff said, “We still planning to wipe out the kobolds?”

Last time, with the Yellow Goblins, Anton had stressed that they wait until the enemy comes to them. Now it was different. If he was honest, the Kobolds, on their own, seemed a very minor threat that would soon be almost irrelevant once they get stronger. The soldiers easily repelled the attack without his help. It was the presence of that insignia which forced Anton's thoughts.

“Absolutely.” Anton replied, “Us three, about a hundred or so villagers and Dana's horses should be enough. I think this time we'll have you call the actions again, though I'm going to be doing quite a bit more this time.”

“Kal too?” Jeff asked. Anton saw a quizzical look thrown from Sam.

“Yes. She can use a bow extremely well and can see just as well. That's more than enough to bring her along.”

“'kay.”

Jeff turned to the few soldiers near him.

“Gather a hundred of the best soldiers and make sure they are fully geared up for a battle. Also someone get Dana and the rest of the horses, and a eight carts with Ix to drag them. Get to it.”

“Yes Sir!” the villagers shouted in response as they ran off.

“Shouldn't be too long.” Jeff said to Anton.

“You look worried though.” Sam added.

He had told them all about the potential of the Elven goddess interfering, none had taken it well.

“I am concerned. Though, there is little that we can do other than remove this threat. If we leave it, it could continue to draw other Kobolds or other monsters, maybe even to a war-host that dwarfs the Yellow Goblin attack.”

Jeff and Sam looked uncomfortable at the thought. It was something that they would have talked about.

“But, doing this might draw her gaze, sending more powerful creatures at us.”

Anton took a deep sigh.

“I don't think that there's a good way out of this.”

“We're all with you Anton.” Verona said as she held his hand.

“Absolutely,” Sam added, “Am I going on this little trip of yours?”

Jeff nodded, Sam seemed quite happy.

“Awesome,” Sam said as she shook her hands in excitement, “Fighting those things is going to be be good practice.”

“Just don't get hit.” Anton added, Sam looking quite nervous. She had obviously heard the stories from the few villagers that got cut but the poisoned spines.

“You knew about the Kobold's poison,” Verona said as she turned to Kal, “Have you had to fight them before.”

“A few times between winters.” Kal answered. “I only fought a few at a time, but they never ripped out their spines before. I pricked my hand once when I tried to collect some meat.”

Kal looked at her clothed right hand.

“At one point I was thinking of cutting it off.”

“Ugh, nasty.” Verona said as she looked towards the door. “We still have some food kept in there?”

Jeff nodded, Sam and Verona heading inside. They emerged a minute later with large platter of food, Verona handing it to Anton for them to pick from while Sam shared hers with Jeff. Sam had a small bag which she handed to Anton, it had four fresh Karak fruit in them.

Kal seemed hesitant again to take some food but did not refuse when offered a piece of meat by Verona. She seemed quite happy to tear into the meat, without the ferocity of yesterday. They took their time in enjoying the meal.

Another minute later the villagers started to move into the plaza. Kal made sure that her hood was covering her ears, some of the villagers looking quite perplexed that she was still here. None were brave enough to say anything about her.

Dana, and her twelve horsemen, and eight carts rolled into the main plaza soon after. Dana brought them all to a halt, dismounting their armored horses. She, and the other scouts, had extra pieces of iron and leather armor on their bodies. Jonathan must have helped them upgrade their attire. Anton wondered about how the hand-cannon development was coming along.

“Good morning,” Dana said as she stopped and looked at them still nibbling on some food, “They told me that we are about to wipe out the Kobolds.”

“We are,” Anton replied, “We'll get you to run down any survivors like last time.”

Dana smiled.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Anton looked around, nearly everyone had assembled.

“I think this looks like enough have assembled. Jeff, you want to get everyone ready?”

Jeff jumped up onto one of the carts. He cleared his throat.

“Everyone get onto the carts, we're leaving for the Kobold camp! Make sure that you don't get cut by their spines, I don't want to have to die frothing from the mouth.”

There was a light cheer from the soldier villagers as they hopped onto the carts. Anton got onto the nearest cart along with Verona, Sam and Jeff. Kal looked like she was getting ready to walk alongside.

“Come on Kal, hop on.” Anton said, offering his hand.

Kal looked either side before accepting it. She pulled herself up with Verona grabbing the other hand. They all sat down, Verona and Kal either side of Anton with Jeff and Sam on the other side.

The cart started to rumble out of the village, Dana took her horses to the front. Anton just hoped that it would not be like the last time where he was vomiting everywhere.

---[]---

About two hours later they arrived near the lake. Thankfully Anton could still stand when they stopped, though Verona looked a little disoriented.

The area was quite flat but they found the highest point where they could observe the camp. The stopped at a point where they would not be seen assembling.

While Jeff got the soldiers ready, Anton observed the camp. It was quite a distance away, so much so that he could make out the structures and some movement but little else. Verona stood beside him and he could see her straining to see properly. Kal did not seem to have any issues as her eyes and face remained normal. If anything her horizontal cat's eye's irises closed slightly.

Kal picked up on their difficulty to see.

“Do you want me to tell you what I can see?” Kal offered.

“Actually, no. I want to try something else.” Anton replied.

He placed his hand over Verona's head, she turned up at him as she raised her brows.

Tethra, can you improve our eyesight so we can see as well as Kal until we have fully observed the Kobold camp?

A small chunk of his mana left him, evenly flowing back into him and Verona.

Everything burst into clarity. It was if everything always had been covered by a thin veneer of something opaque. He could everything around him so clear now, able to see the grass in incredible detail.

“Fucking hell,” Verona said as she looked at her hands, “This is how well you can see all the time?”

Verona turned to Kal, Kal looked quite confused.

“What are you talking about?” she said, her eyes darting between the two.

“Anton just used some magic to change how well I can see. I think I can see as well as you can.” Verona answered. “I can feel his magic flooding into my body, it feels like warm water flowing underneath my skin. It was a little odd at first but I've find it to be quite nice.”

Kal looked between them.

“How? How could you use magic of that strength without even having to chant?”

“I did, kind of, in my head. It's the same thing I did when I healed everyone during training. Have you seen mages before?”

“A few.” Kal's ears drooped low. “I'll tell you one day.”

There was an awkward silence before Kal coughed and looked back to the Kobold camp.

“So, you can both see like me?”

Anton nodded.

“So, what have we got?” he asked.

There were several small leather and fur tents surrounding a larger one. The smaller ones looked to be about three meters across while the larger one appeared to be well over ten meters. They looked to be supported by a series of large bones forming an outer structure with the leather and fur woven onto them.

Out of the tip of each tent was a tiny wisp of smoke.

Hundreds of Kobolds were walking around, covered in extra pieces of fur and leather. Right now they seemed almost calm and pleasant. A few were coming back and forth from the lakes' edge, carrying fish back to the others.

If they had not tried to attack them without provocation they would probably be left alone.

Some of the Kobolds looked to be very small. These were definitely the children of the Kobolds. Most were near the larger tent playing. It made Anton feel quite sad about what was about to happen.

What lay at the center removed all sense of doubt. The scouting villagers had done a decent job of trying to recreate the insignia on top of the totem but it was considerably more detailed now that he could see it himself.

It was indeed a large leaf with deer antlers almost cradling the leaf. The giant stone circle was lashed to the wooden totem pole with extra pieces of rope attached to the ground to help keep it upright.

He had not been in contact with his gods yet, but the symbol was not theirs and he had no real reason to doubt Kal. Whether her liked it or not, they were likely under the sway of Nithroel, the one god that his despised from the moment he met them.

“How many, Kal?” Anton asked.

He saw her mouth move as she counted.

“One thousand, three hundred and twenty seven.” Kal answered flatly.

She looked to the other soldiers, they were almost ready and seemingly mentally and physically gearing themselves for the assault. The enhanced vision disappeared with a sound of disappointment escaping Verona's mouth.

“How is this going to be enough?” Kal looked quite concerned.

“You think we cannot win?” Verona asked.

“I...I'm just worried that we will loose.”

Kal looked and pointed at his hand.

“This size and color of the glyphs relates to how strong they are. Yours are small so...and I don't know what that is.”

Kal pointed at the gem embedded in his hand, Anton had no idea what it really was either. It was involved with his magic and how Verona got hers.

“Don't worry. When we start you'll see what we're capable of.” Anton said as he pulled Verona close. “Oh, by the way...”

Anton held out his hand for Verona to take some blood, to which Verona took and filled up all her clay vials. Kal glanced at this but quickly looked back to the Kobold camp.

Verona squeezed his hand and looked up at him.  She pulled Anton down and kissed him on the lips. It was tender, almost like she was seeking reassurance, to which he did his best to respond to. When they parted she seemed a little happier.

Kal had kept her attention forward and had only glanced back at them. It was probably very awkward for her to see others engage intimately, but to be fair most people kind of are.
Jeff, who had seemingly been waiting until they had finished, approached.

“Do we have enough soldiers?” he asked.

“Normally no, but with both of us it shouldn't be a problem.” Anton replied.

Jeff surveyed the field.

“If we head through the grass, like the wolves did when they attacked you, we could get pretty close.”

Jeff turned to Kal, who was still looking towards the camp.

“Kal, I take it that the Kobolds have pretty good eyesight and sense of smell.”

Kal turned and nodded.

“Yes. They have to in order to roam and hunt properly.”

She turned back to the camp.

“I'm just wondering if all the raiding groups are back yet.”

“We can wait all day and still might not know.” Anton added. “We still have the advantage of surprise, though that could change the moment the wind changes direction.”

They were currently to the west of the camp and the wind was coming from the south. Most of the time the wind came from the north or south, but there had been many times where it came from nearly any direction and without warning.

“Okay everyone,” Jeff said as he turned to the soldiers, “You with the carts are to stay here and make sure you don't get attacked. The rest of us will crouch low through the grass until we give the signal. Then Anton will attack with his magic and then we'll wipe out any survivors. Dana, you and your horses will wait until we've launched the attack and then charge. Any questions?”

There was nothing from the villagers.

Anton turned to Kal.

“After I've used my magic, can you use your bow to hunt down any that survive?”

Kal nodded, taking out her bow and gripping it tightly. She had about thirty arrows in her quiver. It should be enough, she could get her arrows back and if she ran out she could still use her knives.

They hunched down and started traveling through the long grass.

---[]---

It took them almost a half hour to travel a distance that would have taken a few minutes. Kal was near the front, he could hear her sniffing at the air when stopped them with her hand raised. She looked back at him with a slightly scared face, like she was afraid of telling them to stop.

Jeff passed the message down the line with a hand signal, everyone coming to a halt. Anton and Verona moved to the front with Jeff and Kal.

Kal turned to Anton.

“Some on the east side of the camp are starting to sniff the air and look towards us.”

“How far away are we?” Anton asked.

“About...” Kal stood up just enough to see through the tops of the grass. “A hundred and fifty yards or so.”

“If we can get a bit closer I can use my magic properly. It's about a hundred meters, um...three hundred or so feet, then I can start to use those pillars again. I want to use some lightning magic this time.”

Jeff nodded.

“Kal, once we're about three hundred feet away, let Anton know.”

“Okay.” Kal replied.

They continued as silently as they could until Kal stopped them again.

“You'd better hurry.” Kal said somewhat nervously, “They're getting very nervous now. It won't be long before they try something.”

Anton gathered the magic in his body. He already knew what would happen if he linked the rings when they were made with fire, they became far larger and more explosive, but had no idea what would happen with the lightning variant.

He formed the same central ring with four more around it and tethered them together, imagining the same thing as before of lightning raining down from the rings, and pushed it over to the center of the camp.

For a few seconds nothing happened, Verona had the same confused face as she did during the Yellow Goblin siege.

A ring in the air, about fifty meters wide, formed out of lightning. The lightning crackled and roared as it ran around and formed the ring.

The Kobolds stopped and looked up. He could see some starting to head into the tents for shelter, as if it was about to storm. They stopped as they realized it was not natural.

Tiny purple lights built up within the ring, many more than before.

“Here it comes.” Anton whispered to Kal.

Her head glanced back then remained transfixed forward, her whole body tense.

As the lights flared and then contracted, the Kobolds shrieked in panic. Some continued to try and hide in their tents while others made desperate dives for any form of shelter. It was all for naught. The light points contracted and bolts smashed down.

They smashed into the Kobolds, killing anything it touched with a single strike. The bolts did not discriminate between young and old, male or female, as they shot down over the camp. It was utter chaos as the carnage overran the center of the camp.

Hundreds were dead and the camp was on fire, the ground charred and blackened, as the lightning ring began to fade.

Jeff pulled on Anton's sleeve, seemingly wanting to attack. Anton shook his head.

“Not yet. There's still something coming. This is what happened with the fire pillars.”

Four more lightning rings formed around where the first disappeared. The lightning that formed the ring was brighter and far more wild in the way it arced about. Before it remained roughly in the ring shape but now the lightning was arcing several meters away from the center.

The tiny purple lights formed once again, the surviving Kobolds let out a terrified howl at the lights above them. These started to join together with a thin line of lightning, forming a web within the lightning ring.

Anton had no idea as to what exactly was about to happen but knew that it would be devastating.

All the lights disappeared with a tiny audible pop. Verona moved to speak but stopped when the lightning returned.

In a single moment, every one of the hundreds of points exploded into ten bolts. His vision was blinded and his hearing deafened by the power of the hundreds and thousands of lightning blasts.
Everything went white, in sight and sound. It was so loud that Anton could not hear anything until his vision recovered a few seconds later, everyone else seemed to be suffering the same problem.

Oh, shit Kal. She has much better sight and hearing than anyone else, if I had known I would have told her.

Anton saw Kal hunched over and covering her ears. He moved forward and touched her on the back of the head. Her head darted back to look at him, there was fear and terror in her eyes. Her cat slit eyes were almost shut from being so terrified. She held her quivering hand to cover her face as she whimpered something. Whatever it was she repeated it over and over, but it was not her mantra of 'you can do this'. It was not clear but he thought that she was begging for her life.

“Please-” he managed to hear her whimper.

“Kal, you okay?” Anton asked as he tentatively reached out to her.

The fear in her face receded as she returned to reality. Verona tried to touch her shoulder but was slapped away, the surprise evident on her face.

“I....I'm fine. I'm fine.” Kal said with a tremor in her voice. “The lightning can...”

She trailed off and calmed while Verona looked on concerned, the others too focused on the smouldering camp to see.

Anton looked back to the camp.

It was in complete ruin; nearly every section of the camp was scorched from the lightning, giant holes were burning through the leather tent skins, charred and exploded bodies lay amongst the burning wooden remains of the camp.

The totem and stone symbol had been hit multiple times. The overall structure was still intact but it was heavily damaged. While it was still standing it had scorch marks running along it where some bolts had blown chunks of the stone apart.

There was still movement amongst the camp. Some of the Kobolds were only wounded, their struck body limbs charred and destroyed. As the tent flaps opened more emerged, looking utterly terrified. They ran to their wounded companions and started to try and help them.

“Are we doing this now?” Jeff asked.

“Yes.” Anton replied, “Everyone get ready to charge.”

He turned to Verona and Kal, Kal was still recovering from whatever the lightning triggered in her.

“You both ready?”

Verona nodded, her face full of grim determination. Kal still looked a little disturbed but she too was ready.

Jeff waved his hand to the villagers. Verona drew up her blood and formed two spears and a disc. The disc was about a meter wide and very thin, it would probably cut through just about anything with enough force provided. Kal took out an arrow from her quiver and knocked her bow.

They rose up from the grass, yelled an almighty cheer, and charged.

The Kobolds, weakened immensely and terrified by the lightning storm, were barely able to realize the villagers were attacking.

Kal was the first to strike, running faster than any villager while keeping low. She pulled the string back as far as she could before releasing. The arrow sailed forth and struck a Kobold in the face, sending it down onto the charred ground.

The remaining Kobolds had rallied and found whatever weapons they could, some had decided to rip out one of their spines so they could fight.

As the villagers crashed in into the camp perimeter, Verona threw the blood disc.

They held them up to block the incoming disk but it carved right through. It severed flesh and bond of one Kobold and straight into the next one behind it.

Verona, with her hand outstretched, ripped it to the side, as if it was connected by string. The disc slowed and then stopped before darting through the Kobold's to the side. It carved those apart to the side before smashing into a tent. He could see the look of surprise on Verona's face as it exited the tent and carried on. The blood disk shattered and reformed into four spears.

“Too tricky to control.” Verona blurted at him.

Anton did very little, only occasionally firing the odd lightning bolt when it looked like a villager was about to get into trouble. The thunderous sound of approaching horses came from behind. Dana and her horses ran around the outside of the camp and stopped any Kobolds from escaping.

It was a little heart wrenching to see the small ones being trampled under the horses hooves and struck down by the villagers, but the decision had been made.

As they approached the totem more Kobolds emerged from the tents, still wounded and smouldering from the lightning barrage. They fell under the villagers attacks as their group poured into the camp.

A small Kobold screamed its way out of a tent, just a few back from the villager group. He turned and readied to attack it with a lightning bolt but hesitated at seeing how small it was. It would have barely reached his knees but it was wielding a poison spine over its head to attack. Despite its size it traveled the ground very quickly, reaching the tent infront of the the villagers as Anton formed the lightning bolt in his hand.

Just as he was about to release the bolt, an arrow flew past and struck it in the head. The tip rode along the inside of the eye socket and into its brain, killing it instantly. Its head twisted with the force, the small body fell and skidded along the charred ground to just infront of him.

He glanced over and saw Kal, their only archer present, who looked indifferent to the act. She had more reaction from being near the lightning barrage. She caught his eye, nodded, and readied another arrow towards the Kobolds.

Not knowing how many still lingered in the tents, he formed dozens of fireballs and began throwing them amongst the camp. He was not the most accurate thrower of the magic bombs as some landed on the ground but most found their mark, the tents igniting. Unlike with the Rock-Rat's at the quarry there was no sound of them being roasted alive. Anton knew though it was probably because they were already dead or gravely wounded.

Verona fought at the front, dragging most of the attention of the remaining Kobolds to her. She had brought up the blood spears and was merrily swinging them around. Kobolds were dying in droves. The remaining Kobolds were terrified of this and ran back into the large tent, only for Anton to throw another fireball and ignite it.

The villagers pushed the few Kobolds left towards the lake. They reached the beginning of the sand as Dana's horsemen ran them down.

A minute later, there was no longer any resistance. Occasionally there was a whimper from one of the corpses but they were quickly silenced. Some tents were still burning with acrid smoke filling the air.

Most of the villagers were looting the bodies and tents, occasionally a startle of surprise then a shout, the sound of something tearing and then the sound of more looting. He had no idea what they were after, he would need to check on that later.

Only a few had been wounded, to which Anton promptly healed. None had been unfortunate enough to get cut by the poison spines.

Anton stood in the center of the camp, infront of the large totem pole. The Kobolds had tried to protect this the hardest, allowing Verona to slaughter then easily.

Anton looked up at the totem. There was something eerie about seeing it that close, like something was trying its best to lash out at him but could scratch him. Was this what it was like to be in the presence of a hostile god?

Verona has a god of her own, Jira. From what I gathered she's neutral in most things, I wonder if she's feeling this.

He turned to see Verona, her body covered in blood again. The red glow of her marks burned bright as she drew up a large ball's worth of blood from the dead Kobolds. She looked quite happy playing with the sphere, ripping pieces apart then rejoining them, playing with it like it was just an extension of herself. There was nothing on her face that related to the scene of carnage around her.

As she reached out to touch a small sphere Anton spoke.

“Verona, you got a moment?”

Her face darted to him, a smile gracing her face. She relinquished control of most of the blood and let the rest splash onto the ground. She trotted over to him, placing her blood into the vials, and making sure not to step on the bodies. As she stopped infront of him she realized there was still blood on her face, she used her sleeve remove it, then using her power to remove what was left. The red receded from her eyes and body as she looked happily and expectantly at Anton, holding the spear behind her back.

“You seem quite happy amongst all this destruction.” Anton pointed out to Verona.

She looked back over the scorched battlefield and chuckled.

“I guess so,” she replied. “I haven't had the chance to really use my power for quite a while. On the trip back our group was so large that no creatures attacked, so that's good.”

Her eyes were drawn to the dead young Kobold that Kal had slain.

“Though I guess that those sort of things are a little unsettling.”

Anton looked back at the sight, it was a little disturbing.

“You okay?” Anton asked, rubbing her head.

She turned up to look at him as she took his hand off and held it.

“Yeah. I...I...just need a moment.”

After spending a few seconds shaking her hands and taking a few deep breaths, she turned and smiled back at him.

“Okay, I'm better. So, what did you want?”

Anton nodded towards the totem pole and the stone insignia on top. There was still the strange feeling coming from it.

“Yeah, that thing looks a bit like yours,” Verona held Anton’s hand and rubbed on the glyphs, “And a bit like mine.”

“You don't feel anything strange...coming from that?”

Verona looked at the totem, silently staring at it for a few seconds before shaking her head.

“I can't feel anything different. Is something coming from the stone?”

Anton pursed his lips.

“Maybe. It might be that this goddess, Nithroel, and mine aren't exactly friends. Maybe there's some sort of reaction. Maybe Kal might know something?”

They both turned around to look for Kal. Her hood was down so her aqua colored hair made her quite easy to find. She was crouching infront of a crudely made wooden shelf, looking through its contents. Every few moments she would reach for something, sniff it, then put it into her coat or place it back. If it was something good her ears would prick up then slowly dropped back down. Anton felt it was a little strange to put it back so neatly, especially as they were going to burn what was left and leave it to the elements.

“Kal?” Anton asked.

Kal's head stopped looking through the shelves, her ears pricked up. She stood up without looking over at Anton, brushed the dirt off her and took a deep breath. As she turned around she had a somewhat distant look on her face as she approached Anton. Verona picked up on this, tugging on Anton's sleeve and threw a quizzical brow. Anton very lightly shrugged and looked back to Kal.

Kal smiled lightly, there was something behind it though, probably from whatever happened with the lightning. It was something he wanted to know about, even if it was painful.

“Kal, in your time and travels, did you hear anything about being in the presence of a hostile god giving you an eerie or strange feeling traveling through your skin?”

Kal looked between Anton and the stone symbol, she frowned as she focused her gaze on Anton.

“I have not. But if it's causing you a problem, you should probably get rid of it.”

They looked back to the insignia. Anton searched for anything that may be causing the odd feeling but saw nothing, nothing glowed or was a different color than the grey stone. He was about to summon a blast of lightning when something told him that it probably was not the best idea. It was not the voice of one of the gods but probably his own subconscious.

“Jeff,” Anton yelled, “Get a few villagers and bring this thing down. I don't think I should use any more of my magic on it than I already have.”

Jeff, currently prying through a large poorly made clay pot, called some villagers over. They cut the remaining ropes keeping it upright and used the a few of the loose lines to pull it down.

The villagers heaved as the totem groaned and fell. The stone symbol broke, a satisfying thud and crack resounding through the air. The strange feeling disappeared the moment it broke.

They let out a cheer at the sight of the destruction. It was like the way a barbarian tribe would celebrate the destruction of an enemy city.

Verona walked over and prodded around the stone insignia, Anton thought that she was trying to find something different that would explain the odd feeling. She shook her head having found nothing.

Jeff came up to Anton, the same time he heard Dana's horses approaching. She looked quite pleased, some of the armor pieces on the horses looked quite battered. They had taken a decent beating but the horses looked quite happy, at least he thought they did.

Dana dismounted and led her horse to Anton.

“They're all dead,” Dana began, “They weren't up to much after you used the lightning.”

“That was the idea of it, though I did not expect it to do that.” Anton replied, Kal had a tiny twitch in her eye as he spoke.

“Another good work out. Wonder when we'll get a real challenge.”

“Don't wish for it,” Anton replied, “I think that we'll soon have that.”

He nodded to the shattered insignia, Dana and Jeff frowning.

“That goddess, Nithroel's?” she asked, looking between Anton and Kal.

“Yeah. No idea if she could sense this battle but I get a feeling she might.”

I just hope we haven't just declared war...hopefully my gods will be able to perhaps spin this into saying that we were taking out a counter attack on the Kobolds and didn't know about her involvement. Maybe...hopefully.

While Anton was pondering what this attack could mean another villager ran up to them. She looked quite flustered as she stopped.

“Jeff, Anton, there's something in the big tent that you should see.”

Dana stayed outside and remounted her horse to rejoin her squad while Anton and the others entered the large tent. The fire had burnt away most of the tent and set ablaze to most of the things inside, the air still smoky and acrid as they breathed it in.

“What have you found?” Jeff asked.

The female soldier pointed to the center of the tent. There lay the burned remains of a Kobold. It looked unrecognizable from the damage to its fur and skin, the heat melted away its fat so the burnt remains was tight on its bones. The beast lay on its side as it curled itself to protect itself from the heat, it looked like it had been hit by a fireball thrown to incinerate the tent. It looked relatively unremarkable.

“And?” Jeff continued.

“In its claws....hands.”

The soldier used her spear to pry apart its clenched hands. Crumpled in it, and protected from the flame, was a crumpled piece of dirty paper. The villager lent down and pried it free and handed it to Jeff and Anton.

They carefully unfolded it, the heat had turned it incredibly fragile. On it was scratches of writing, completely indecipherable to Anton. He looked to Jeff who looked as confused as he did. When Kal looked at it she frowned a little.

“Can you understand some of this?”

Kal scratched at her torn ear.

“Not really. I didn't think that they had a language, just snarls and groans. Someone in the Grataeris Empire might know but that's a long way away.”

“Pity. Anything else of value in here?”

“Not really. A few good pieces of salvageable metal that we're planning to take back. Other than that there's not much.”

“Okay,” Anton replied, “I think it's time to leave. The Kobolds won't be worrying us any longer. We'll leave and I'll set anything still standing ablaze.”

They exited the large tent, carrying the few things that were of value.

“Actually, Kal, what did you manage to find?”

She looked to him.

“You were rummaging around for some time.”

Kal reached around to her back and pulled out a selection of herbs and leaves, some of which Anton recognized.

“That's....White-leaf and Shimmer Soral by the looks of it. Couple more that I don't recognize.”

There was an honest surprise on Kal's face. She must have thought that he would have taken little to no interest in the struggles of ordinary people. It also struck him that she did not know how he arrived, fictional or otherwise, especially as he had just shown himself to be a powerful mage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ye...yeah.” Kal smiled, having something genuine to talk about, “I found some of those as well as some Flazel weed, Spring-Blossom and some Humuara.”

“What do those do?”

“They're healing herbs mostly, but Humuara helps with sleeping.”

“Huh.” Anton replied. “We'll have to get you to write a list of them all down someday.”

Kal smiled warmly, Anton felt that there might be something still related to the lightning, though now was not the right time to ask.

As they started to leave Anton summoned dozens of fireballs and burnt everything else to the ground. They hopped onto the cart, looking back at the smouldering ruin as they trundled away.

“That whole thing is a giant mess now,” Verona said as she lent over the side of the cart and looked back at the burning camp, “You think that they'll be back?”

“Those ones, no. But there will always be something to replace them, there's the goblins at the capital to worry about. Nonetheless, I think it's a good time to spend a day or so relaxing before we head back to Maxill.”

“Great. I want to sleep in our bed once in a while.”

“Hey, what happened with the blood disk?” Anton asked. “It seemed like it was going pretty well.”

Verona scratched the back of her head, her hand rubbed at the clay vials.

“It...it felt like it was too heavy. As it got further away it got harder to control and bring it back. I don't think that I realized that the other day when I was throwing the blood spears on the target range. Do you have something like that?”

“Yeah. As my magic gets further away it becomes harder to control and drains more mana. It was good of you to break it back into a spear when you realized it was too difficult.”

“I kinda did what I thought you would do. Anyway, I think that I'll use it to throw in a straight line then break it. I'll think of something later.”

“I love it that you keep working to improve yourself.”

“Always, and not just that.” She smiled wickedly at him and nestled underneath his arm.

They headed back to Atros, leaving the scene of destruction behind them.

-------------

Hello,

Last week there was some down-time so I cranked out another chapter. I hope it stands up.

I didn't really want to do the dinner part as it would just be a bunch of oh no's and everyone agreeing to get rid of them.

Anyway, Kal's terrified of lightning, which was mentioned before when she first arrived, so that will make things difficult for a while. Plus, they will be heading to Maxill soon to get more people and gear.

Next chapter will be about starting to uncover why Kal is terrified of lighting and seeing how the hand-cannon is developing.

Anyway, that's it for now.

Thanks for reading and be gentle with your comments!

Edit:

Thanks to AnarchyDev and mafiapl for pointing out the errors.

Chapter 029 - Accelerated Plans

Chapter 029:

The villagers cheered as the small war party returned. Hundreds of villagers were waiting as they entered through the southern gate, cheering and waving from the top of the wall. Anton thought that it was probably a little over the top for just having defeated the Kobolds, but he guessed that every victory over the beasts and monsters that roamed this world must have been a cause for celebration.

Dana led them through, her horses parting the overeager crowd.

“Did you win?” Anton heard someone ask loudly.

He looked over and saw that it was Raston, one of the bondsmen released from Maxill. He had been relatively quiet through dinner but seemed quite nervous now. His head was bopping about, probably looking for the few bondsmen that joined the soldiers.

Anton turned to Jeff to answer, but another villager, a few carts ahead from them, answered for them.

“Of course we did!” the villager replied.

The tense and apprehensive look on Raston's face disappeared. This villager did not wear the same clothes as the regular villagers, he was one of the few volunteer soldiers from the former bondsmen.

“It was incredible. They barely needed anyone, just those two would have been enough to wipe out over a thousand Kobolds. He used this lightning magic, then an even bigger one. Everything went white and exploded. I couldn't hear or see anything. Hundreds of them were dead. Then we just charged in and killed them all. They won't be back for some time.”

Raston and the other bondsmen looked in shock and disbelief. With the other soldiers and villagers nodding in agreement, his face changed to one of pleasant surprise.

“I...I'm impressed, Anton. It seems that our concerns were unfounded.”

The carts stopped and the villagers hopped off, Anton helping Verona down and offering a hand to Kal, who denied it and hopped down on her own. She had been quiet for the trip, only talking once asked something, but her facial expression had improved somewhat and occasionally she had almost a smile on her face.

“I don't know about that.” Anton replied to Raston. “Being attacked by any sort of beast or monster is a reasonable source of concern. They scare me when they're close.”

“Reasonable...” Raston muttered. “But you don't seem to concerned by it?”

Probably because I have magic that, by the sounds of things, only masters or teams of mages can use, and I have gods watching over me. Guess it does make me a little out of touch with the people that have only flesh and blood to fight with.

“As Jeff said, we have faced down eight thousand Yellow Goblins and won. We are not that weak....Actually Raston, later I need to speak with you.”

There was some concern on his face.

“It's nothing bad. Just something that will help this village grow, that I think you will be the best person for it.”

Raston looked quite pleased, and so did some of the other former bondsmen.

The rest of the villagers disembarked the carts and began to mingle amongst the crowds. There were some shouts of joy while a few laughed, they seemed to be thrilled at whatever stories were being told.

Verona, Jeff, Sam and Kal came up to Anton.

“It's a bit past lunch,” Jeff began, “I was thinking of getting dinner ready for eating a bit earlier. You know, a bit of a reward. Also I'm starving. Until then, I'm thinking of just relaxing a bit.”

Anton knew the look that he was giving Sam, he probably would not be back for a few hours.

“Alright,” Anton replied, “Just make sure that everybody gets to what they need to be doing first, though just resting for most people is probably a good idea. I'm going to find Bertram and Sybil and see if they know anything about this.”

Anton took the piece of burnt paper that the Kobold was clutching so desperately. Bertram was the village elder, and had worked in the former Kar kingdom in a position within the government. There was the possibility, at least, that he may have seen the language before. Kal had said that she was not aware the Kobolds had a written language. Perhaps they did not, but one of their more intelligent members could read someone else's and kept it as a memento of its intelligence. Nevertheless, it needed to be asked.

“Good idea, they might know. Anyone know where my dad is?” Jeff asked loudly.

“At the burnt out barn on the north side of the plaza.” a villager replied.

Jeff gave him a thankful wave.

“You go on ahead. We'll sort out things here.”

“Thanks. Damn good job everybody.” Anton loudly said to the villagers. Some cheered and raised their weapons, others just laughed quietly. They knew that it could have been won even if half of them were not there but still appreciated the sentiment.

Anton started walking north, the crowd parting slightly for him. When he exited he turned around but could not see Kal. He breathed deeply to ask where she was, still worried what the crowd might do to her. However he saw her emerging from the crowd quite quickly, her hood pulled down but no longer keeping her head down. It was a small, but noticeable, improvement to her confidence.

“Ah, there you are.” Anton said, Verona smiling at her, “Thought you might be waiting there again.”

Kal said nothing but returned an awkward smile. Her in-action, when the Kobolds first attacked, still must be playing on her mind.

“The crowd did not part for me,” Kal replied, “I had to force my way through.”

She looked back to the crowd, some looked over in her direction. When they saw Anton looking at them they turned back towards the carts.

“It'll stop one day,” Verona said to Kal, “No idea when that will be. They're looking at you like you're new, not like they want to hurt you.”

Kal smiled and glanced back.

“I suppose.”

“If you would like to come with us, Kal, we're going to head to the plaza and swing by Jonathan's, see if he's got any spare pieces of armor that you might be able to use.”

“That is too much.” Kal replied. “But I will not...deny such a thing. Thank you, Anton.”

There was still a little hesitation in her voice but it was mostly gone. They started walking, Verona by his side with Kal slightly behind the other.

As they passed the second building the sound of horses hooves clacked from behind. He turned around to see Dana approaching on her horse. She brought the horse to the same speed as them once she was alongside.

“Quite an interesting day.” she said, stroking the neck of her horse.

“Indeed.” Anton replied, turning to face her. “I was thinking of talking to you as well.”

“Oh? Anything to do with whatever you have planned with Raston?”

“Yes. I want a few horsemen to travel with us to Maxill. Give them a good impression as well as helping us keep a bit more mobile on our trip forward and back. Also let you guys see beyond this village.”

“Sounds like it could be interesting.” she replied, leaning closer, “Though with the whole 'angry goddess' thing that might be going on, it'll just be a few. You two can handle yourselves but-”

“You guys are not mages.” Anton finished. Dana smiled awkwardly and nodded.

“We'll think of something before we leave.” Anton added.

“Great. We'll be doing a few cool down laps then stop and get these guys back to their stables. See you at dinner, Anton, Verona...Kal.”

With that, she tipped her hat down slightly and rode towards the central plaza. Anton looked back and saw the other horsemen following her. They moved to the side to allow them to pass.

“See,” Anton said as he leant towards Kal, “They will change given time.”

Kal said nothing but looked optimistic.

The other villagers around the cart started to disperse, Jeff's voice clear over everything, shouting some orders.

“Come on, we don't want to get caught up in that.”

As they arrived at Jonathan's blacksmith they found Jonathan and Zac outside with two carts, led by some exhausted looking Ix beasts. They saw him arriving and waved him over.

“Welcome back Anton.” Jeff said, followed by a nod from Zac.

“It's good to be back.” He replied.

He looked over the beasts and into the carts. They seemed to be filled with rocks, while all were covered in dirt they were different colors underneath. One looked black while the other looked a shiny dark grey.

“Oh, cool. You've got some coal and iron ore, by the looks of things.”

Zac smiled, moved to the cart and patted the iron ore lumps.

“Those miners work like they're magic. We called it done for the day when we had got a cart full of both, there was still a lot of dirt to dig up before we got to it. Tomorrow, we'll get a lot more now that we've uncovered many more seams. I've even got a few of my builders to build a work camp, you know, rest and covered areas from the sun.”

“Excellent. Do you have a smelter, Jonathan?”

He shook his head.

“Not yet, nothing that can handle more than just a few small pieces at a time. I mean I can do a bit of smelting with the forge I already have, but it will take quite a bit of time as it is. I have just asked Zac to see about building a bigger forge and smelter to the north east of the village. That will allow me to do this even more quickly and make my home a house again.”

“What about the pieces I got you?”

“They have already worked wonders, I barely need any fuel. But I am running into problems of space, especially if I am to get other smiths to help me with the normal day to day work, and not your plan.”

“Fantastic work you two. Um, Jonathan, do you have any extra spare pieces of armor, like the one you made for Verona?”

“You feeling a bit vulnerable?” Zac asked mockingly.

“I'll get something later, but for now it's for Kal. Something light and easy to move in.”

Jonathan looked into his blacksmith as he scratched his head.

“Umm, I....I might have something left over. Hold on.”

Jonathan disappeared into his blacksmith. There were the sounds of things being lifted and upended before he emerged, carrying two light brown leather arm guards, his children in tow. They seemed happy to see them, waving wildly at Anton and Verona, who returned it. Even Kal got a wave which she returned, though not as heartily.

“I have these. They were left over from when I was making the special one for Verona. These were made from parts that ended up being too big, then I moved to making metal plate armor. That is...taking some time. I'm getting there though”

He handed them to Kal, who looked at them with awe.

“Thank you, Jonathan.” she gave a tiny bow with her head. Jonathan seemed quite happy.

“They're yours now. May they keep your arms safe.”

Kal quickly fitted the armor, her fingers quite nimble and adept at fastening them.

“Is Bertram still in the plaza?” Anton asked, “I heard he was infront of the burnt out barn.”

“Yeah,” Zac replied, “He's got me rebuilding it and storing the stuff used for the healing salves, and few other medical herbs. Oh, and those spines that you guys collected from the Kobolds. Somebody didn't cover their hands when they touched it and they were in a bad way.”

“They still in trouble?”

“Nah, that poison wore off. They won't be doing it again though.”

“I'll give Bertram my thanks. Keep up the good work, especially you two.” Anton patted the heads of Shawn and Joclyn as he walked past, their faces beaming.

---[]---

Finding Bertram was not hard, the burnt barn stuck out like a sore thumb. Though, not as much as it once did. After being burnt down he had expected it to remain like that for some time. Now, it was furnished with new and old wood mixed along with the burnt. It gave it an odd look.

Standing outside was Bertram and Sybil, along with several of the elderly villagers and quite a number of the children. The younger villagers were scampering about carrying wooden baskets and crates while the elderly villagers were directing them. All had their backs to the plaza.

“I didn't know we used child labor?” Anton asked somewhat sarcastically.

Bertram and Sybil jumped, turning around to see Anton.

“We don't,” Sybil replied, “But they were so enthusiastic to help that we didn't stop them.”

“Keeping all of the medical goods in one place?”

Sybil nodded.

“When you left to fight the Kobolds, a large number of us decided to go and gather some more herbs. The children decided to come as well.”

“That's the Thumper fields,” Anton commented, feeling a little concerned about their well-being. “Did you take any soldiers with you?”

“A few,” Bertram answered, “My son didn't like the idea of us, especially the old and children, going into that hostile place without protection.”

“That's good to know.”

“All the boxes are empty at the moment, but if you look inside...” Sybil said as she led them inside.

It still stunk of soot and ash but now there was the smell of freshly cut wood as well. The roof was complete but light still shone through. At the top were large pieces of wood held apart, like a vent, in such a way to let some light and air in but could be easily closed if it started to rain.

“On the walls we are currently drying out the herbs.”

Sybil waved to all the walls, indeed there were many plants that Anton recognized as healing herbs.

“They're not as effective when they've been dried out, they need to be put into water and allowed to soak for a while, but this way we can have tens of crates filled with them.”

“Who makes the boxes, by the way?” Anton asked.

“A few people on the north side do it to pass the time.” Bertram replied. “I've already asked them to start doing this as their contribution to the village, working with Zac's timber people.”

“He's got a lot on his shoulders.” Anton said about Zac, admiring the work.

I'm loving the initiative that the people are taking now. Just give them a direction and they'll do it, even better with things like this.

“Fantastic work. Seriously, you all are doing a great job with what you have available.” Anton said. Both Bertram and Sybil looked quite pleased.

“By the way, Jeff wanted to move dinner forward quite a bit. A reward of sorts for succeeding in the battle with the Kobolds.”

“I didn't mean to not ask, but-”

“We did win,” Anton answered Bertram's question, “And with no losses.”

“I'll tell the other women to get things going a little earlier,” Sybil said as she started to leave, “You three go relax and we'll come and get you when we're ready. I think we'll use you for cooking again, Anton.”

There was a sly look on her face. While initially he thought it a bit demeaning to use his power for cooking, after a while he found it to be quite fun.

“Sure. It'll be fun. Make sure to send someone when you're ready.”

Anton made a step back out the door when Bertram coughed.

“We also collected the Kobold spines that were recovered and have them in this box.”

He pointed to a large and long wooden crate, a green cross painted on top.

Bertram moved and opened it, it appeared to have a metal hinge holding the lid on. He let it open completely. Inside were dozens of the Kobold spines, the teeth that attached it to the body of the Kobolds still looked fresh despite being left in the open air for more than a day.

“We, as you had done, moved them only with thick pieces of cloth. I, uh, had a go at trying to break one and found this near those teeth.”

He lent in and pulled out a strange sack-like organ still attached to the spine, protected from his skin by an old piece of leather. It was long and thin but had a distinctly green shade to it.

“This appears to be where they keep the poison. With your help, to heal us if we get it on our skin, I want to break all of these apart.”

“That sounds very dangerous.” Kal said with some concern.

“You never tried to use it? Like for an arrow or something?” Anton asked.

Kal shook her head.

“No, but, with your magic Anton, I suppose that it could be done. Any spills could be cured before they become a problem. Maybe keep them in sealed in a jar like Verona has. Then dip an arrow in it. I don't really know.”

She scratched her chin and then her torn ear.

“It could be quite dangerous for everybody.”

“We plan to stay for another day then quickly head to Maxill, then come back. That should give us plenty of time to get those completely harvested without killing yourselves.”

“That's good to hear. We're going to move this into the main hall later. What are you getting in Maxill?”

“More people and the supplies for my project. I just want to get it done quickly and set something more permanent up. I'll explain what happened at the Kobold camp at dinner, but suffice to say that we need to act faster and greater in our actions.”

“Sounds like it didn't all go well.” Sybil said, not sounding pleased.

“Maybe,” Anton replied, “Oh, we found this in the camp. Any idea what it is?”

Anton removed the burnt piece of paper and handed it too them. Sybil squinted at it but could not make anything of it. Bertram had a sign of recognition, but then it was gone.

“You have an idea?” Anton asked.

“I may have seen something written like this in the capital. But I have no idea when I did. I've seen it a few times. I may even have a book with them written in it. I'll have a look and see if I can find it before dinner.”

“Thanks Bertram. Alright, we'll be taking a rest before dinner.”

Bertram and Sybil stayed inside, organizing the remaining crates and dried herbs. Kal exited before Anton, and stood still for a moment in the sun.

“So Kal, what have you got planned?” Anton asked.

“I really don't have anything planned. I think I'll just go take a sleep, I feel quite tired now.”

She did seem to be a little tired.

Anton smiled.

“We'll see you at dinner then. If you aren't there when it starts, either myself or Verona will come and get you, I still don't trust everyone here with you yet.”

Anton looked around, none of the villagers seemed willing to do anything in his presence.

“We'll walk you to your house.” Verona offered.

Kal was about to deny it but stopped.

“Okay.”

They walked Kal back to her house, making sure that she made it inside, then went back to their own. They decided just to have a nap, other activities could wait until night time.

---[]---

Anton and the rest of the council sat around a large table, the steaming hot dinner infront of them. Each had a wooden mug full of the alcohol that Zac made but did not drink any. A spare seat had open for Kal but she had yet to arrive. Anton was starting to get a little worried but decided to give her a few more minutes.

As the others started to eat the meal, Bertram remembered what Anton had asked of him.

“Oh, Anton, found some things that look very similar to what you had brought me.”

Bertram brought out a book, old leather bound, and laid it on the table. The others cleared a space so it could be seen by everybody. He brought out the burnt piece of paper and opened the book.

On the pages were many words written in this worlds language, accompanied by a much neater version of what was scrawled on the paper.

“What is this?” Avery asked, still eating a chunk of bread as he spoke.

“This is what was found at the Kobold camp.” Avery explained, “And these are money ledgers. Transactions before I had to change them.”

“To whom?” Anton asked. “Orcs? Another Kingdom?”

Bertram shook his head.

“Elves, I believe. I'm not sure which type either.”

“So, they're like Beast-kin, with other varieties?” Anton asked.

“Yes.” Bertram answered, “There are Wood, Dark, Desert, and I think there were Fire elves but they were wiped out by the Wood elves, at least that's what they say.”

“And which is this?”

“I think it's a wood elf language, but I'm not sure.”

“Fuck.” was all that Anton could manage.

“What does it say?” Verona asked.

“Unfortunately, I don't know. I never learned the language, only remembered that I had seen it somewhere before.”

“And why was this at the Kobold camp?” Jonathan asked.

“They could have just stolen it.” Zac replied, “That beast girl, Kal, says that they nick stuff so why not this.”

“If I was being burnt alive the last thing I would be doing is grasping a random piece of paper. Whatever it was, it was very important to it.” Anton explained.

The table was silent, the rest of the plaza still buzzing with life and steadily increasing drunken laughter.

“Well, fuck, indeed.” Avery grumbled, leaning back into his chair.

“Is this that goddess you mentioned, Nithroel?”

“That was her stone symbol in that camp. When I got close to it, it did not feel friendly. We may very well be being targeted by a goddess, thanks to me.”

“Well...” Avery did not finish, all knowing what he wanted to say.

Everyone sat in silence for nearly a minute, the other villagers continuing their meal and festivities. Sybil smacked her hands on the table.

“Right. Nothing can be done about it now. That goddess didn't do anything to help us, but yours and Verona's did. So, what's the next step?”

Anton liked Sybil's attitude. She could get them all working when they ended up in ruts like this, she had already helped him immensely before like this.

“More weapons and people,” Anton started, “That's why, it'll have to be tomorrow morning, I'll be taking some carts and horses and riding hard to Maxill, getting whatever I can and coming back as quickly as I can. Weapons, armor and more bondsmen. Also see about selling some of the gems we got from the Yellow Goblins, maybe trade them for the bondsmen. Have you had any problems with them?”

Anton looked around, everyone shaking their heads.

“Once they got settled in and after clearing up that Kobold attack, they've been fine. I think Kal has been a minor issue but they seem okay with her.”

“Yeah, where is she?” Verona asked.

“Haven't seen her.” Zac said, looking around.

Her hooded head could not be seen through the moving crowds, nor her aqua hair.

Verona stood up and grabbed the full plate of food, also grabbing two mugs of alcohol.

“I'll take these over and see if she's alright.”

“Okay, make sure she's fine.” Anton replied. She lent down and gave him a light kiss before heading through the plaza and to the east.

“Actually Anton, I would like to show you how the project is going.” Jonathan said.

“I'll come to,” Zac added, both getting up from the table, “I helped out and I want to see it to.”

“'kay. But I need to speak to Raston and Dana first. I'll meet you guys there.”

Zac and Jonathan left the table, Anton excusing himself a moment later. The freed bondsmen hung about it small groups with several villagers amongst them, getting them involved with the wider group. He spotted Raston and made his way towards him.

Raston saw Anton approach, downed his drink and stood up to greet him.

“Ah, hello Anton. You said you wanted to speak to me before?”

“Yes. I want you to come back to Maxill with me.”

There was a look of stupefaction on his face.

“Why? We like living here very much, and we have been working very hard.”

He looked quite nervous, it was spreading to the other bondsmen around him. The fear of returning to their old life was well and truly great.

“That's very good to hear, but that's not why.” Anton began to explain, their faces calmed a little, “I want to get more bondsmen away from Maxill and to live here. You've seen how much better it is and how we can defend ourselves from threats. You, and a few others, will be a good....reference...to Duchess Belinda. She was hesitant at first, but now she may be willing to sell a lot more, possibly freeing hundreds of your friends and family at once.”

“Even people that cannot work like us?”

Anton turned to see another seated bondsmen looking straight at him.

“Most of the people that you brought here were men, a few women, but our families are still back there. Men and women can work, but what about the children and the elderly? Will you buy....free them as well?”

“Yes.” Anton replied, the bondsmen surprised by his bluntness, “I would have them freed as well. They will all be a part of this village, soon to be a town, and not be left behind.”

The bondsmen looked to each-other and nodded, Raston seemed to be of a similar mind.

“Alright, I'll do it. I'll talk to a few more and get them ready. We'll be ready when you leave.”

“Thank you,” Anton said wholeheartedly, “Your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

With that hopefully handled, Anton left the bondsmen to talk amongst themselves. They seemed quite excited by the prospect of more of their friends arriving.

Anton took a deep breath and headed south to Jonathan's blacksmith, his mind wandering to Verona and Kal. He hoped that Kal was alright and nothing bad had befallen her.

---[]---

Verona held a large plate of food and a two large wooden mugs of alcohol. As she walked to Kal's house it was difficult for her to not pick at some of the still steaming food. She felt that it would make a bad impression if she arrived with most of the food gone.

The village was very quiet so far away from the central plaza. A few fires lit the way, the odd group of armed villagers would walk past, occasionally a cheer or cry from the center.

She arrived at the house a few down from her own. Anton was not by her side, something had not happened for some time. She glanced to her side to look for him to knock on the door when she arrived, but chuckled when she realized what she was waiting for.

She moved the mugs and plate onto one hand and knocked on the door with the other. There was no reply. Verona knocked again, hearing something move behind the door. It sounded like a table being dragged along the floor.

A moment later the door creaked open. Kal's head emerged, covered by her hood. There was some nervousness in her face. Upon seeing that it was Verona she relaxed, almost a faint smile on her face.

“Oh, hello Verona.” she looked around and frowned as she saw that there was only her there, “I don't see Anton anywhere.”

Verona saw her face have a hint of a frown. Whatever she had seen in Anton's lightning had well and truly affected her. It was gnawing at Verona's mind and she wanted to know, but she knew that she could not do it standing through a door.

“Yeah, he's looking at a few things over at Jonathan's, our blacksmith. Some bunch of things that he's trying to build. I thought it would be a good idea to see if everything is going alright with you, since you weren't at dinner.”

Verona lifted her arm with the plate of food to get Kal's attention. Her eyes widened at the sight. Verona chuckled as the door opened. Kal was wearing her cloak over her body, but with her right hand she was clutching at something around her neck. It was about the same place that the necklace she wore would be.

“Can I come in?” Verona asked.

Kal nodded as she moved to let her in.

“I brought a little of everything from dinner. And something to drink.”

Verona sat on the bed and motioned for Kal to do the same. She was a little hesitant to do the same but eventually followed, the smell of the cooked meat was filling the room. She put the medallion back underneath her clothes, Verona not missing the glint of the metal.

“I'm sorry I didn't come,” Kal started, “I saw all the people and got nervous. The other day there weren't that many and today there was the lightning.... I know I promised you both but...”

“It's alright. We were just starting to get a little worried about you.”

“Is there going to be a battle?” Kal asked.

Verona did not understand, throwing up a quizzical brow. Kal pointed to her chest, specifically her armor. She was still wearing the full leather armor even though it was getting late into the night and there was no sign of any enemies nearby.

Verona handed her the plate, which Kal rapidly dug into.

“That's a little...difficult to explain.” Verona answered.

Kal looked up at her, a piece of meat still in her mouth. Verona thought it looked a little cute but coughed and continued.

“Well, apart from keeping safe, it...um.”

Kal nibbled on her food and kept staring.

“It's related to my front. My breasts are quite large, according to Sam and some of her friends. Anyway, after a while my back can start to ache, so this helps with that. You know, keeping it close to my body so I don't have to keep fighting the weight. I like them, though I would like them a little smaller. It can be a hassle at times.”

Kal looked Verona up and down, her eyes stopping at her chest.

“Huh.” Kal looked down at her own chest. It did not appear to be that big but Verona knew it could be hidden somewhat by her tight clothes.
“I don't have it that bad.” Kal continued. “ And I'm a little glad, large ones seem like yours would be a nuisance. My mother used to complain a lot about them.”

Verona made an odd involuntary sound, something like a groan of surprised. Kal realized what she had just implied.

“Ah, I'm sorry that I-.”

“It's fine, It's fine.” Verona said, waving her hands to calm Kal down.

“I'll be honest that sometimes they do get sore.”

Kal awkwardly smiled.

“My tail can get sore as well. That's what I was about to do before you came.” Kal added, to try and contribute to the conversation.

“So, what do you do? Just take it out and just straighten it?”

Kal nodded and smiled, though she did not move to show off her tail. Verona realized that it was something that was incredibly important to her and not something she was ready to share yet. There was still the curiosity of what it actually looked liked, one day she would find out.

Kal ate in silence for some time while Verona sipped on her drink. It burned quite a bit on her tongue, even after it had been watered down.

Eventually wanting to know got to Verona. She coughed as Kal had almost finished the food, still picking at a few of the chunks of Razor-pigs left.

“It's been some time since you've had to speak to anyone?”

Kal grimaced slightly.

“Almost my whole life. So, almost fifteen winters.” Kal chuckled a little. “Sometimes it was just a few sentences a year, and they were not always....kind.”

“All that time alone?”

“Yes. I had to speak aloud to myself so that I didn't go insane. Though, I think that listening to the whispers of a goddess that came to me during a storm and coming to a human city....that's probably what most of you would call insane for someone like me.”

Verona took a deep breath, she was about to get to an important reason as to why she came.

“Kal, can I ask you something?”

Kal stopped and looked at Verona.

“Sure. But I'm not showing you my tail.”

Verona swore there was the hint of a joke in her voice.

“No. It's not that.”

Though Verona did want to actually know, something about the idea of having a fluffy tail that she could wag at will appealed to her. Pushing down her little fantasy, she turned on the bed to face Kal.

“I wanted to know...when Anton used the lightning magic...you...”

Verona did not know how to say it delicately. Kal flicked at the pieces of meat before she took a deep breath. She reached underneath the wraps of cloth and pulled out the medallion, starting to rub the surface. It looked just like the glyph that Anton has on his hand. It was very important to her.

Kal sighed as she gripped her free hand.

“I told you that I didn't come from the Grataeris Empire to the north.”

Verona nodded. She was present when Kal arrived and tried her best to understand, she knew that Kal was not from anywhere nearby and she had a habit of looking far to the north whenever something sounded like it would remind her of her past.

“I come from a place further north. The Seocuria Empire.”

“Never heard of it.”

Truth be told she had not heard the names of any of the kingdoms or empires that surrounded their village. Their kingdom had died before she was even born and nobody wanted to talk about the bygone age.

“Good.” Kal looked quite sad. “They are...a slaver empire. Humans and Beast-kin are sold and bought like fruit. I was bought and sold many times. Most were not good owners.”

Kal stopped and glanced at Verona. She wanted to say something to help her but could think of nothing. Instead she waited for Kal to start talking again.

“I worked mainly in the fields, harvesting crops and clearing away weeds and trees. They didn't give us anything to work with,” Kal looked down at her hands, “They thought that our....beast... hands would be more than enough.”

“How old were you when you when you started?”

“I'm not really sure. I was born into slavery. The earliest I can remember when I was about four or five winters old, picking at weeds in a field. My hands were bleeding. That's my first memory.”

“Five?!” Verona asked in shock. When she was five she was playing around, not working in the fields.

“Yeah. I worked everyday with the other Beast-kin children. I got beaten up quite a few times by the other beast-kin children, and a lot by the human masters. It was because I was....a half-breed.”

Kal touched at her face and looked at Verona, her eyes looking her up and down. She focused her attention on her arms and legs.

“I was the only half-breed child in our...group. My mother was a full Beast-kin but she was well liked amongst the other adults so they didn't do it too many times. The humans didn't care though.”

“It seems that every type of people can be cruel sometimes.”

Kal almost smiled as she looked at Verona. It was not much of an understanding but it was a beginning.

“So, why are you afraid of lightning?”

Kal hesitated again before answering.

“When I got older, about ten or eleven winters, there was...I don't know how to describe it. Storms came every few days. Huge ones that lasted for days but pelted the ground with hail and lit the sky with lightning. They tried to made us work out in one, during the day. There was no sunlight, the only light came from the lightning crackling in the clouds. Some of the more stupid and careless masters tried to make us keep working out there rather than inside.”

“That sounds...terrible.”

“It was.” Kal nodded, “The water soaked into our fur and took all the heat from our bodies. I saw some people that I knew just collapse into the fields. The human masters were not kind.”

Kal held the medallion in both her hands and brought it down to her lap.

“There....were many Beast-kin children, and they didn't care if a few died. Looking back on it they encouraged the slaves to breed, to keep their numbers up so they could be used like an endless supply of replaceable workers. It explains what I heard every night.”

Verona smiled a little awkwardly. The first night she had spent with Anton, she had been quite loud in the throes of her passion. For some time Sybil and Bertram looked at them both quite oddly, like they were embarrassed by what she had moaned during that long night. Her mind quickly started to drift back to those feelings but she ripped her mind back to Kal.

“Anyway,” Kal continued, “It didn't continue for long. After a bit the storm started to get really bad. The lightning started striking the ground. Everywhere around us, but the slave masters didn't let us inside or go find shelter, though they did.”

Kal sighed.

“So, the lightning smashed into the ground, just infront of me. Just like Anton was able to do. Everything went white and I was thrown back. I saw dozens of people killed in a single flash. It was not a pleasant sight.” Kal chuckled lightly, “Other slave masters and soldiers raced out, those that had kept us out were killed on the spot once they were found out.”

“When Anton used his lightning, it brought up those memories?”

Kal nodded. “Yeah. I know it's not the same but it still makes me feel quite afraid.”

Kal started to pick at the remains of the food while Verona sipped at the mug of alcohol.

I'm not sure if you're telling the whole truth. While there's no way that we can be sure that you did or did not come from that empire further north, I still think that you're lying about a few things. You seemed more terrified of Anton when he nearly touched you, like he was about to hit you, or worse. I didn't see anything that showed that you were lying about being a slave and being forced to work. But it's like you aren't telling me everything. Were you beaten every time it stormed, especially during that time of lots of lightning? That would make anyone terrified of lightning, it would seem like it's about to happen again every time the lightning flashed. Or was it worse?

Oh well. It's only been a few days. Far too soon to be telling us everything about yourself. Though it was nice that you're opening up a little bit.

“That's a pretty harsh story Kal.” Verona said, raising her mug.

She had decided not to say anything about her concerns with Kal's story. Kal had not noticed, though Verona was not sure, Kal was not the most expressive person she had met. Her eyes were drawn to her tail and ears, neither were cast down so she hoped she was fine.

“It was not a good time.”

“But a slave escaping from that place?”

Kal picked up her mug and downed it in one go. Verona looked on stunned, the drink burned deeply at her throat and yet Kal did not cough or splutter. She looked at her empty mug, finally coughing once before taking a deep breath.

“Riots were not that uncommon.” Kal explained. “One, the day I escaped, was incredibly large. Nearly every slave downed their tools and attacked the masters and soldiers. My mother managed to get me to the outskirts of the city and told me to run and never stop. So...I did.”

Kal swirled the remains of the drink and drank the remaining droplets.

“I'll be honest, I don't want to talk about it anymore.” Kal said, looking quite crestfallen.

“That's fine. If you don't want to talk about it, then you just need to say no.”

Verona took Kal's mug and poured half of hers into it.

“Thank-you.” Kal said, sipping at the drink. “What is this anyway?”

“No idea,” Verona answered truthfully. “It's something that Zac makes. I have no idea how or what with. You like it?”

“It's very strong.” Kal said suppressing a yawn.

It had not been long since she had downed the drink and she was looking like she was already beginning to feel its effects.. She was having difficulty in keeping her eyes open and her head was drooping before she jerked it back upright. It seemed like, to Verona, that the only thing keeping her awake was sheer willpower.

“You need to sleep. You look quite tired and you're forcing yourself to stay awake. It's fine to go to sleep if you need to.”

“Right. That sounds like a good idea.”

Kal moved to place the plate and mug on her table but Verona took them out of her hands. They both smiled as Verona walked to the door.

As she exited she turned around.

“I know Anton said that you might want to bar your door, I don't know if that is necessary, but you might want to. Just to be safe.”

“Okay.”

Kal moved to drag the table infront.

“Kal?”

“Yes?”

“It's good that you're here. It's good having someone my age that I can talk to. You are going to stay right?”

Verona reached out and lightly grasped Kal's hand. There was some nervousness in them, but they were soft and warm. She could even feel the fur and pads underneath the tight cloth.

“It's the safest I've felt in some time. I also don't have to hunt for my food and the people are really nice, comparatively, and even if it's somewhat forced. I'll be staying as long as I can.”

“I'm glad. Sleep well. There's always something that will need doing tomorrow.”

There was the hint of a smile as Kal closed the door, withdrawing her hands from Verona. The sound of a table being dragged soon followed. She waited a bit and heard something slump onto the bed, Kal was probably already asleep.

Verona adjusted the plate in her arms to make it more comfortable as she walked towards the central plaza.

That went pretty well, I think. Now it's time to find out what Anton is up to. I wonder if his crazy and weird plans will actually work.

---[]---

While Verona had been drinking and talking with Kal, Anton, Jonathan and Zac had travelled to the blacksmith to have a look at the second attempt at creating the hand-cannon. Jonathan explained that he got Zac to help him build the next attempt of a mold as he wanted to get it right.

He led them through the blacksmith and into the secluded area.

In there was another mold, the old one lay shattered with a roughly made metal slug protruding from the remains.

Anton turned to Jonathan, raising a quizzical look. Jonathan looked a little bashful.

“Um, it broke.” he answered, walking over and picking apart some of the clay parts of the mold, “It broke from the inside. I think the gasses were not able to escape and forced their way out, breaking the mold. It is still our first proper attempt.”

“But it looks like you didn't just give up.” Anton said as he pointed to the another mold.

The broken one was baked clay but the new one looked like it had sand mixed into it. This one was also upright and had something that looked like a float, made from the same material, suspended over the hole in the mold. Anton presumed that it was going to form the central chamber.

“Looks good.” Anton said.

As he walked over to look more closely he realized that there was metal already inside, the light in the blacksmith was quite weak.

“Oh, you already got onto it?”

“Yeah. The items that you got really helped. We got quite a bit of scrap iron left over. Those bits that you recovered from the Kobold camp will allow us to create quite a few more.”

“So,” Anton clapped his hands, “Is the hand-cannon ready to come out?”

Jonathan nodded.

“It should be, we poured this early this morning. Worked long into the night to make sure it would work this time. I have been checking it and it seems like it is cool enough. You two want to help me open it?”

Anton and Zac nodded and moved to the slab. It was bound by several thick pieces of leather.

They took apart the binds and slowly and delicately pulled apart the mold. The hand-cannon revealed itself, a long metal tube with a solid stock. The size of the inside of the tube was about the size of a small peach, the shot would punch right through any flesh if it was going fast enough or at least crush the body underneath any armor.

Jonathan pulled and twisted the central plug out. Amazingly it came out completely intact. Anton looked at the plug more closely, it was almost a perfect cylinder. Jonathan picked up on Anton's odd look.

“That took us almost half a day.” Jonathan answered, “Shawn and Joclyn helped with it, basically did it themselves.”

“Do they want to become smiths later on?” Anton asked, “They always seem to be very happy to help you.”

Jonathan awkwardly smiled.

“I'll be honest, I do not know. I hope so, not many people want to do this sort of work. You think I should start teaching them?”

“At least talk to them, you know, find out what they think.”

“I will give it a go. Now I kind of hope they do.”

Jonathan placed the hand-cannon onto a table. It was not the most perfect forge but still impressive, there were a few bubbles in the outer surface and there appeared to be some discoloration throughout it. Anton picked it up, it was extremely heavy and slightly rough to the touch.

I knew that it was going to be heavy, but not this heavy. Still, pretty good for the first attempt. I just wonder if the powder won't just make it explode.

“How are we meant to use this thing?” Zac asked, picking up the hand-cannon and holding it in both hands.

He was holding it roughly like Anton thought it would be, one hand underneath the main chamber with another holding the metal shaft.

“I'm guessing that the metal ball is meant to come out here?”

“Yeah. How heavy does it feel?”

Zac lifted it up and down.

“A bit. Holding this all day while fighting would be tiring.”

“We might have to mount them on some sort of wooden rack or cart.” Anton suggested. “That way we could move them around more easily and fire a whole bunch at once. Like some sort of battery.”

Anton looked to Jonathan.

“How about the cannon balls to go in this thing, any luck with those?”

Jonathan smiled and brought out a small wooden box placed in the corner. Inside were several metal balls, they looked like they would be the right size to just fit inside.

“These are quite rough, but they look like they should work. At least according to your drawings.”

“We still need the explosive powder to make them work properly and some way to light it.” Anton explained.

“I am working on that.” Jonathan replied, “Making some special attachment so we can light that powder.”

“I was thinking of heading back to Maxill and see if they've got it yet. No idea if it will actually work but I'm hoping it will. Good work Jonathan, you've done extremely well.”

Anton patted Jonathan on the back, Jonathan smiling wildly.

“I should be able to make quite a few of these a day once I make some more molds. How many would you like me to make?”

“Just a few. We'll see how it goes first, and so we don't waste your time and energy. I am hoping that it works.”

“I will get on those tomorrow.” Jonathan said, taking the hand-cannon from Zac and covering them and the cannon balls in a corner and covered with a cloth sheet.

“When are you leaving?” Zac asked.

“Tomorrow I think.” Anton replied. “That thing with the stone insignia has me worried,”

“Yeah,” Zac looked a little uncomfortable, “That we may have gotten involved in a war of the gods.”

He looked around the blacksmith.

“And there are very few of us.”

“I plan to change that. I'm going to take Raston and a whole bunch of the other bondsmen. Duchess Belinda was hesitant to sell us more because they had no idea who we really were. But she was willing so long as I paid her quite a bit of money, so we should be able to get some more. I'm thinking a couple hundred this time and then everyone else next time. And there are other cities that she controls and will sell some bondsmen to us. How much longer is it before the season changes?”

Jonathan and Zac looked to each-other.

“Shouldn't be too much longer.” Zac answered. “Maybe twenty or thirty more days. The leaves will start to change color as the plants get ready for winter.”

“Definitely want quite a bit done before winter hits. I've never actually seen snow before, does it snow here?”

Jonathan nodded.

“It sure does. The last few winters have been quite bad, and it looks like this one will be another one. We need to have a good storage of food. None of our usual plants grow during that time, quite a few animals to hunt though.”

“Are there any other creatures that come out during the winter?”

Before anyone could answer there was a knock on the outer wall of the blacksmith. Verona's head peered out around the corner and smiled. She carried two wooden mugs, presumably full of the alcohol that Zac made.

“Hey, can I come in?” she asked, her voice a little fluttery.

She did not wait for a response and entered, handing the mug to Anton. She brought him down and kissed him, it tasted slightly bitter from the alcohol, he could even smell it around her mouth.

“Is it all going well?” she asked, pointing to the covered hand-cannon.

“Yeah.” Anton replied, placing his arm around her head. “Jonathan seems to be amazing at this sort of stuff. Now we just we need to get the powder from Maxill and see if it works.”

“Awesome,” she happily replied, “Though I wish we had a few more days here first.”

“I wished we did too. Get things to settle down then head over there. I don't think we should be away for too long though.”

“Sounds good. You guys going to head back to the plaza? Jeff and Sam are trying to sing and it sounds very strange.” Verona asked.

“I suppose we should,” Jonathan replied, “I need to go get my kids and get them to bed.”

There was a moment of silence broken by a roaring laugh coming from the distance.

“Come on,” Zac said, leading them out, “Let's go rescue everyone else.”

Jonathan barred the entrance to the secluded room and moved a few pieces of equipment to cover the entrance. He and Zac moved away first, leaving Anton and Verona following slowly behind.

She was taking slow sips from the mug as she turned to Anton.

“Is it going well?”

“Yes. Well, considering that we don't have precision engineering and all they've got to work with is a few vague drawings and descriptions.”

“Jonathan did a pretty god job on this armor.” Verona said as she rubbed her chest piece, “It took him a bit under a day, even though he said it was just thrown together. If he gets even more people to help, everything should go so much quicker. Do you want some armor like mine? I don't want you to die from getting shot by an arrow to the chest.”

She seemed quite concerned, reaching out and grasping his hand tightly.

“I'll get a set when we get to Maxill. Jonathan has enough on his hands so I don't want to add anything else to his long list of things to do.”

She smiled and both took a sip from the mug.

“How did things go with Kal? She said she was going to turn up for dinner, but... She alright?”

Verona nodded.

“Yeah, she's fine. I think that she's probably still to nervous to eat around this many people. The other day she was already there before everybody showed up and there weren't as many. I think she's just being cautious at the moment.”

Verona scratched the back of her head.

“I...I asked her about why she was so afraid of your lightning.”

She looked up at Anton, him throwing a her a concerned look.

“So, what did you find out?”

“Um, I promised not to tell anyone the story. But, I don't think she told me the truth.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I'm not really sure. But, there were a few things that didn't make sense. People weren't acting like people, doing really stupid things. Something like that. I just don't think that it's all true. Some of it might be, but...I don't know.”

“We're the first people that haven't tried to kill her outright. Hopefully with some more time she'll open up.”

Verona smiled up at him and pulled herself closer.

“I hope so too, I like her. She still hasn't shown me her tail.”

“You're really determined to see it. I am actually curious about that as well. I wonder if it's like a wolf's or a cats...or something else. And I haven't seen her feet, she always keeps them covered. Are they like ours or are they different again?”

Verona shrugged but continued to smile.

“When she walked it seems normal, though it could just be hidden by her cloth wrappings. I don't know, I'll see it one day, that's for sure. Anyway, she going to get new daggers? Her current ones are quite old and rusty. You know, something new.”

Verona broke free and skipped ahead.

“She was pretty good with the sword during practice...maybe she'll be one of those types of people that's got lots and lots of weapons to fight with.”

Anton rubbed his bearded chin. “Eh...I don't know. Possibly. But we'll have a talk tomorrow. We need to help rescue everyone from a very drunk Jeff and Sam.”

He nodded towards the central plaza as they passed the last building obscuring their view. Jeff, Sam and a good many other villagers, and some of the newcomers, were dancing and larking about, all clearly quite drunk.

It was staggering to see how much alcohol that Zac could produce at a moments notice, there was probably some sort of moonshine operation in some of the buildings. He would have to ask about it at a better time, one where the mention of it would not start a drunken search of the village.

They eventually managed to get them back to their homes and to sleep. Afterwards, they both headed to their own house.

---[]---

Verona finally slumped down onto Anton's chest. Her breathing was hard and deep, full of lust and exhaustion. She giggled as the waves of pleasure washed over her body, entwining her hands with his to feel as close as possible.

He brought his hands up and brought them to his side, enjoying the sensation and watching Verona's face in ecstasy. They lay in silence for some, Verona eventually letting go of their embrace and wrapping her hands around is head as she slid off him and nestled into his right shoulder. He rested his arms around her waist and stared at her face.

Her almost shoulder length hair was messily stuck to the sweat covering her face. Anton brought his hand up and brushed them free, Verona returning an odd smirk.

“You okay Anton?” she said, as she wrapped her fingers on his chest, “It was great....but you seemed a little...distracted.”

“Really? Was I?” he asked, somewhat concerned as he brushed her face again. The last thing he wanted to do was treat their intimate time as some sort of chore.

“To be fair, I barely noticed.” she said, chuckling and bringing one hand to his neck and the other resting on his chest. “But...you are?”

Anton could not deny it. He stroked her hair, her face turning into a light frown.

“You couldn't feel it, but there was something coming from that stone in the center of the camp. It was like hands reaching out to strike me. I think it was that Elven goddess trying to strike me for destroying her followers or thralls or whatever those Kobolds were to her.”

He sighed.

“I'm worried about what else she could throw at us...but I don't know if that's what it really was. For all I know it could have just been a shamanistic thing from the Kobolds and not a goddess.”

“You're worried that while you're going to Maxill, there'll be an attack that you won't be here to stop and you're worried that people will die?”

“Basically.”

He awkwardly smiled, but Verona smiled warmly back.

“Well, do you want me to stay here then?”

Anton looked straight at her, she seemed to be very serious.

“As the only other mage here, I could take on just about everything they could throw at us. Hell, when the goblins attacked, I was the one to kill the second most.”

Verona shifted herself so her head was on the pillow beside Anton's.

“If Kal was right, about...Nithroel...not having any humans or beast-kin that worship her, especially as Atros seems to be the only village left in the whole kingdom, there shouldn't be anything more than the beasts and monsters to attack us. How far away is the elven kingdom?”

“Um, Bertram said that it was about...twelve or thirteen days south from the capital. And the capital is about two or so days from here...Even when we took the cart it took us a bit longer than that. If you travel faster, since you know the way now, you could be back probably before then.”

“We could. I'm hoping to get many more people to live here so it'll take some time to get them through the forest without incident. But a big attack could wipe this village out...that's only if the goddess is against us and can get more forces to attack Atros.”

“You were the one to speak to the Duchess, I just ate the food.”

She chuckled and burrowed deeper into him.

“I...I suppose so. But, I've gotten very fond of being with you.”

Anton gave her a little squeeze, Verona giggling as his hand rested on her breast.

“So, what do you think? I want to go with you but I'm trying to think about the larger plan, where Atros is still here. You said so yourself, the village has little over a thousand people. And I'm thinking that we cannot loose anyone carelessly.”

“No, we cannot.”

He picked her up and maneuvered her onto his front.

“In that case, I think it might be a good idea for you to stay here then.”

“To protect your dream, your vision.”

Anton through up a quizzical brow.

“If it were up to me, I'd be fine with living the rest of my life in this village, But...”

She rose herself up and pulled Anton up as well.

“I want to see what kind of world you'll help make. It's already more interesting. So, I'll forgo sex until you get back.”

“Well, for such a sacrifice, I'll have to make sure that you're properly rewarded.”

Verona puffed her cheeks out at the beginning but was smiling wickedly at the end.

“I'll hold you to that.” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Better use our remaining time properly then.” Anton said as he lent in for a kiss.

It was some time before they both fell asleep.

-----------------

Hello Everyone.

This one could have been out a bit quicker, but I'm glad it got done.

I chose to have Kal tell a probably not true story, as i don't think she would be someone who spills her guts after being friendly with people for a few days.

Also, the hand-cannon. Only got it roughly worked, again, I'm not that knowledgeable about how forging works but I put in the suggestion like i was told.

Verona's going to be hanging back for this one, just in case there is something bad coming for them. I'm thinking a chapter or two about her staying in Atros, and not just having her as someone that just hangs on but a proper and independent character.

So, that's about it.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 030 - Respite

Chapter 030:

The early morning sun was weak when Anton and Verona made their way to the central plaza, with Kal in tow. She seemingly had a full nights sleep and seemed to be looking quite better for it. Anton did not now if she use the Humuara plant to get such a good sleep but if she was it seemed to be doing a lot of good for her. Already she was looking more healthy from her short time in the village.

At the central plaza a small crew of about twenty villagers had assembled; three carts with Ix, five former bondsmen including Raston, and Dana with another three horses. By the looks on their faces they had just woken up.

“Good morning everybody.” Anton said loudly, the crowd looking back in a mixture of tiredness and annoyance.

“What's so good about waking up this early?” Dana quipped back.

“Nothing really,” Anton replied, “Just a formality, I suppose. I too would like to be in bed at the moment, but these things need to be done.”

Dana scoffed and laughed at the same time, turning her attention back to the horses.

“Verona,” Anton turned to her, “We put the red crystal back in the main hall, right? We'll be needing it.”

“Umm...yeah. I'm pretty sure I remember where I put it. I'll quickly run and get it.”

Verona dashed away, the red crystal of her spear acting like a flag through the plaza.

“Where did Verona find such a thing?” Kal asked.

“We found it in a Yellow Goblin hoard.” Anton explained, “They stole a whole bunch of stuff from the former kingdom. Verona found it and took quite a liking to it. It cut through a Bosciycium armor like it was nothing.”

Kal smiled.

“That's probably worth more than the whole village. It looks elvish.”

“Elvish?” Anton asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yes, the wood looks like it has grown around the crystal, it doesn't look natural. Only the wood elves can manipulate wood like that. They always went for high prices, thousands of gold coins each. More money than I've seen in my life went to a badly made elven knife.”

“That is...quite concerning. Can't imagine what an wood elf would think if they saw her swinging it about like she does. Anyway of knowing if it's a famous weapon or some heirloom?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Pity, oh well.” Anton said, looking over and seeing Verona getting stuck in a conversation with Sybil at the door.

“I'm sorry.” Kal added, Anton turned to see her ears were drooping low underneath her hood.

“It's alright. You don't need to have to apologize for every little thing that you don't know.” Anton patted her on the shoulder once, a jolt of surprise from her, “If it weren't for you I wouldn't know it's a Wood Elf weapon. And you knew about the Kobolds before anyone else. You've gone through more than anyone else here and come out alive, so please have some more confidence in yourself.”

He looked Kal straight in her horizontal green cats' eyes. They were staring hard back at him, searching for something in his own.

Slowly, her face changed into a smile.

“I will try.” she said with a tiny bit more confidence.

Verona ran up to them with the large red and silver entwined crystal in her hands, looking quite pleased with herself. Behind her was Sybil, carrying a small book. It looked familiar. The small leather bound book was the journal that they found in the mountain.

“It looks like I may have found a problem with that red crystal.” Sybil said as she approached.

“It seemed to work fine with us.”

“Remember the story written in journal, about the Tigel family and how they were attacked?”

Anton thought long and hard before answering.

“Yes. They probably had the crystal with them, thinking that it would protect them all. But it didn't, even against monsters like Yellow Goblins, like it's meant to. So...there's probably some limit to how many people it can cover or it's effective area. And we have no idea what that limit is.”

“Exactly,” Sybil replied, “Well, it's just a thought but I think that it's an important one.”

“No, it's a very good point. One which I completely overlooked. I think that we should still bring it along, just in case.”

Anton took the large gem as Verona handed it to him.

“Did Verona tell you that she's planning to stay here until we get back?”

“She did not.” Sybil said, rather confused looking as she turned to Verona.

“If the Kobolds, or whatever the elven goddess might throw at us, come, I'll be here to fight them off until Anton returns.” Verona said, puffing out her chest in pride.

Sybil and Kal looked between the two but said nothing.

“I've just had another thought, regarding the red crystal.” Anton started. “It's meant to work really well against monsters and be somewhat effective against beasts, but last time there were only the two of us and we were doing our best to keep quiet, and using my magic so we didn't have to use a big fire. On the way back there were so many of us that the creatures would think twice about attacking us, now there'll be twenty of us as well as many more animals than before. A large wolf pack or whatever else lurks in the forest might think that we are a good target. The packs we saw attacking the Yellow Goblins were quite large. In the pitch of night, I don't like the idea of them just sneaking up on us. They'll probably catch out scent before they get near the red crystal, I guess we got lucky on the way back. I could use the vision modification magic, but I don't know how the others might react to me 'changing' and interfering with their bodies. You said it felt weird.”

Anton looked to Verona, who nodded.

“Yeah. If they're not ready for it they could get quite freaked out.”

She turned to Sybil and Kal.

“It feels like some sort of warm water rushing underneath your skin. And you somehow know that it's someone else’s.”

“But,” Verona continued, “There is someone here that can know things are coming even without magic.”

Anton nodded, “Yes, there is. Kal was able to smell the Kobolds on the wind before we knew what was happening. Do you know the smells and tracks of the beasts and monsters that live in the forests?”

“Um, yes.” Kal replied, her eyes darting between Anton and Verona.

“Perfect,” Verona said, clapping her hands, “This way you can help keep Anton and everyone else safe. It should help with your reputation around here too.”

Kal looked to Anton.

“It's a good plan. So, Kal, do you want to come?” Anton asked.

Her eyes widened in surprise, he did not miss her ears picking up as well as the unmistakable sign that her confined tail was trying to wag wildly. She looked extremely happy, even though she tried to hide it.

“I...I...I would. I would like the chance. But, will that be okay?” she looked to Verona.

Verona looked confused but smiled.

“Of course. I trust you. Should there be a problem?”

Kal glanced to Anton and sighed lightly.

“It's nothing.”

“Besides,” Verona started, “there'll be Dana, Raston and a whole bunch of other people with you. More than enough to fight off anything that tries to get you.”

“That's not...” Kal trailed off.

“Anyway,” Anton tried to get the conversation moving somewhere else, “It should take us about thirteen to fourteen days. Hopefully we don't get held up for too long at Maxill, we probably not even stay the night if we can manage it.”

“Ugh. I'm going to miss sleeping in a warm bed. You know, warmer.” Verona said, pouting her face. She stopped when Anton picked her up and hugged her deeply.

“I'll just be a bit and I'll be ready to go.” Anton looked to the others, “Find yourself somewhere to sit Kal and tell them that we'll be going soon.”

“Okay.” Kal replied, a tiny bow of her head. “And thank you both for trusting me.”

She ran away to the cart, the others giving her an odd look and moving to stop her. After she started talking and pointed to him their attitude changed and they allowed her onto the cart. She moved her bow and arrows to her front and found a place to sit near the back. The other villagers started to hop on as well.

“It's good that they're starting to accept her.” Verona said, patting his arm to let her down. “I'm going to be alone for a while, again.”

“Not for too long.”

The moment he said that she dragged him away, near the main hall. She glanced over at the group and pulled him down.

Verona gave him a deep kiss, her tongue dancing around his like it was trying to take the warmth from him. She finally broke it, feeling like they had been entwined for an eternity, a tiny strand of saliva connecting them. Verona brushed her mouth and used her sleeve to clean his own. Her face was flushed from embarrassment. They were not exactly hidden from view, though the other villagers were looking away though keeping them in view out the corners of their eyes.

Anton stroked the back of her head and lifted her up into a hug, she giggled as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Don't be too long. I want you back in our bed.” she purred into his ear. She was getting very good at talking in a way that got him excited, though he would have to forgo everything related to that until he returned.

“First thing I'll do when I get back.”

She squirmed and laughed as he put her back down.

He glanced over to the cart, almost everyone had gathered and the last of the crates of food and water were being loaded. A small crate was placed near Kal, she nodded and put her hand over it. It was probably the one with the small gems they recovered from the Yellow Goblins. There would be only a few loaded in, the long thing green and red ones identified as Emeralds and Rubies along with one of the unknown blue and purple crystals. He wondered how much Lester or other traders would be willing to buy them for. He still had a few coins on him from when he first went to Maxill, hidden back underneath his clothes. Together they would be enough to buy them a new arsenal of weapons, more people and even his explosive powder.

Anton looked down at Verona, his arms still resting on her shoulders.

“Ver?”

“Hmm?”

He knelt down so their eyes were at the same level.

“I want you to promise me something, I want you to wait until I've finished before you say anything.”

Verona nodded cutely and entwined her hands with his own.

“If...If something were to go wrong, like every Kobold or whatever were to descend upon Atros, and you cannot fight them off, I want you to run East.”

Her face contorted into a frown, she opened her mouth to speak but kept quiet.

“I do not want to find your body inside the ruins of Atros. If it comes to that, take whomever you can and run. I hope it doesn't come to that but I don't want to loose you.”

Anton squeezed her hands, letting her know he was finished.

“I...Okay.” she replied, smiling warmly, “It won't come to that, but I will if I need to.”

She leant forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“They're getting pretty impatient.” Verona said as he saw her blue eyes glance over to the carts and horses.

Anton glanced back, and they were looking quite impatient.

“I had better get going, otherwise I'll be doing this with you all day.”

Verona smiled, giving one final hug, and walked with him to the cart. Anton hopped up and took a seat near the back, next to Kal and with Raston at the front.

Sybil walked up to the cart.

“I'll tell the others that you've gone. Considering what happened I'm sure they'll understand.”

“Thanks Sybil. I'll be back soon anyway.”

Dana whipped at the reins of her horse, the carts started to rumble out of the village.

“Alright, let's do this.” she shouted over the rumbling of the cart.

Verona raced ahead and climbed onto the top of the western wall. She, and a number of other villagers, waved and cheered as they watched them leave.

“Be safe Anton!” Verona yelled, waving wildly.

Anton returned the wave.

“Be Safe Verona! We'll be back soon!” he yelled back.

She smiled and continued to wave, eventually stopping as the carts were too far away. He saw her give one final glance and a little wave before disappearing down the wall.

He turned around and leant back into the side of the cart.

Verona can look after herself, especially with her blood power. I wonder who she's going to use for a source of blood? Probably Sam or one of her friends, someone that's not going to freak out completely. Anyway, I need to focus on getting through the forest as quickly as we can and what I'm going to say to the Duchess, I hope that Raston and the others provide a good reference as I planned.

He looked towards the front, seeing Kal clutching at her chest where her medallion would be and the other desperately holding onto her bow and arrows.

“Kal, you feeling nervous?” he asked.

“Yeah. I never expected to be heading to a human city willingly,” she answered, the nervousness clear in her words, “Especially when not in chains.”

She looked towards him.

“Did Verona...tell you what I told her?”

“No,” there was some relief on her face, “She only told me that she wasn't go to repeat what you told her.”

“I'll be sure to thank her when we return. I've come to like it here, even if it's been a few days.” She took one last look back at Atros before looking forward, towards the forest. “I've never been through that forest, but I know the smell and sounds most of the monsters and beasts will make. I'll do my best to keep us safe.”

Anton smiled at Kal, who looked extremely happy, with an almost wagging tail, and looked to the forest. He wondered what they would run into there.

---[]---

The first three days of the trip had gone by extremely quickly and without any real incident. They were moving faster than they had last time, already having passed the old, and now turned over, broken cart. Sometime, early tomorrow, they would reach the lake and be able to relax a little bit and resupply their water.

The old Atros villagers were a little concerned with traveling through the dark forest. Thankfully the former bondsmen were able to help them through it, as they had already taken the journey once.

Kal spoke a bit on the travel but not much. She took her job of being a scout very seriously, only speaking when spoken to. Anton admired that attitude, of working extremely hard, but it was beginning to bug him that she was almost being ignored, like she was a device rather than an intelligent being. It seemed very difficult for her to start any sort of meaningful conversation with anyone but himself and Verona, and Verona was not here now.

He did want to know the story of how she came to Atros. Firstly because he genuinely wanted to know more about her and it was to see what story she would tell him and how that would match the one told to Verona.

Now, it was very late in the day and they had stopped to make camp. A few of the villagers would be on watch, with a very small fire to illuminate their camp and keep them warm in the cool night time air. The animals were kept close and allowed to rest.

The red crystal was embedded into the ground, close to the fire and the center of the camp, the swirling pattern in its center began to grow with intensity. Anton had not idea if the crystal was working or not, but it gave him and the others some sense of security.

Anton, Kal and another four villagers were on the first watch. There was still some light about, so it was not hard to see quite far into the forest, their eyes having become well adjusted to the dim light.

Out the corner of his eye he could see Kal start to fidget and look like she was becoming incredibly uncomfortable. Knowing got the better of him.

“Kal?” he asked as he approached, “What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“Come on Kal, don't bother lying. Do you think you've seen something?”

Kal fidgeted and pointed towards a large tree. At the base were several orange and blue mushrooms, along with some much smaller green and white speckled mushrooms.

“Mushrooms? Are they edible?” Anton asked.

Kal nodded.

“They go well with stews. The green ones go well with meat and the other ones taste good just on their own.”

“Right.”

Anton looked around at the others and saw that they were keeping a good watch. Apart from the sounds of the fire the forest was completely silent. Kal did not seem worried so he doubted that she could smell any enemies getting near, she had said that she would accept death when it came but would fight it until the end. He doubted she would lie.

He started moving to the tree, Kal taking a few seconds to realize that she would be needed for the next part.

She took out a knife and started to cut the mushrooms above the stem, Anton tried to pull them off where they attached to the tree. Kal grunted something, reaching out and almost touching his hand before stopping.

“You don't want the stem,” she explained, “It's bitter and will make you feel sick for the whole day. Something you don't want. Leaving it also makes them grow back faster, a bit for it to grow back from.”

“But the rest is fine?”

“Yes.” Kal handed him the knife, which he started to use.

It was not long before they had quite a few. Anton saw that Kal was smiling as they harvested in silence. He guessed that she was not much of a talker, getting enjoyment from being near her friends. He did not know if she considered him a friend but she seemed to be relatively comfortable around him, compared to the others.

They returned to the camp site fire with their arms full of the mushrooms.

“What are those?” Dana asked, lying down next to the fire with her hat covering most of her face.

“Um, good question. Kal, do you know what these are called?”

“I don't know.” Kal answered, her ears drooping a little, “I never learned their names. But I know they're not harmful, I've had them before.”

“You'll have to forgive us for not believing you straight away,” Dana said, covering her face with her hat, “None of us eat these sort of things. I've always been told that mushrooms are bad things.”

Kal was loosing more and confidence by the second, especially judging by the way her body was starting to become more hunched over. Her ears were hanging as low as they could. Anton knew that Dana was not trying to be vicious but she was being quite brutally undiplomatic in her words.

Anton did not want to see her like this. He looked over at the fire, there were two villagers, a bondsmen and an old villager, tending to pieces of meat and vegetables skewered onto thin sticks over the fire.

“You guys got a spare pot?” Anton asked.

One of the villagers nodded and got a small metal pot from a cart, handing it to Anton.

“Kal, can you help me get some branches and wood for a fire. We'll do this ourselves.”

Kal nodded and put her mushrooms into the pot, running into the forest. She emerged a few moments later with a large collection of branches in her arm.

Anton moved to an empty spot and got Kal to place the wood onto the ground. With a deft hand she assembled the wood ready for a fire. Anton was about to put the pot down when Kal threw up her hand for him to stop and ran over to the edge of their camp.

She returned with a small and thin flat rock, a little smaller than the pot. With a little grunting she placed it in the center of the wood and moved the wood around the edge. She took the pot and placed it on the rock, taking out the mushrooms.

“This way you can have the pot keep flat without having to try and suspend it?” Anton asked.

Kal nodded and smiled.

“Very clever Kal. Can you start cutting up the mushrooms, I'll get some meat and veggies for the soup.”

Kal took off her cloak and put it on the ground with the mushrooms on top. She sat down and began to roughly cut both types of mushrooms and placed them into the pot. Anton rummaged through the stash of food and came back with a small jug of water, pieces of cooked and dried Razor-pig and some vegetables that looked like carrots.

He sat down next to Kal and started to cut his food into small pieces and place them into the pot along with the water.

“Do you want me to light the fire?” Kal asked.

“Did you use...how did you manage to get the fire started before?”

“I used these two rocks, hit them and used the the sparks to get some dried grass burning.”

Kal reached into her waist and pulled out two small rocks, both were dull except for a few shiny marks where they had been struck against each-other. One was a very dark grey and was a little lighter in color.

“Is that...flint?”

“Yeah, I did steal these, but they've kept me warm during the winter. ” Kal smiled, not caring that her canine teeth were showing. Right now she looked a little bit cute.

“So, do you want me to?”

“I'll just use my magic.” Anton replied. “I can get them all going with no real effort.”

He formed a small flame in his hand and moved it down to the wood surrounding the flat rock. Kal look almost hypnotized by the flame, but not before she got up and brushed herself off. She said nothing as she jogged into the forest, emerging with many small rocks. Without saying anything she placed them around the outside of the fire.

“This'll help keep the heat going where we want it to. “ Kal explained as she placed them down around the fire.

Afterwards she picked up and shook her cloak before putting it back on. She seemed much more comfortable to be wrapped in her cloak in the darkness.

“Having the ability to make fire is pretty handy,” Kal started, “But, what happens if you are not able to use your fire magic, or healing magic for that matter?”

“Well...I'd be in a lot of trouble.”Anton replied sincerely.

He stared into the fire for a moment

“I don't know how to start a fire on my own. Or how to make any of the healing salves or even what would be good to eat or what would kill me. Gods forbid if I get hit with a Gliyrhil blade and it takes away my magic. I really need to learn how to do things on my own.”

Kal smiled, bringing her knees into her chest and hugging them tight. As her feet wiggled and stretched, he started wondering what they really looked like. If he was completely honest they were not moving entirely in the same way that he would expect human feet to, but it would be a little weird to ask her to show him her feet.

They sat in silence, watching the flames start to engulf the wood.

A few minutes passed, the smaller twigs burnt away leaving the large branches to turn into large red coals. He could feel the heat from the fire on his skin, he could see a few beads of sweat growing on his arms. It was not particularly cold yet.

An earthy and meaty aroma began to emanate from the pot, wisps of steam flowing upwards.

He stood up and looked into the open pot. The mushrooms had broken apart into tiny flecks and strands, the water had transformed into a thin orange soup with lines and swirls of white throughout. The blue and green from the mushrooms had disappeared with the heat. Little bubbles rose and burst, sending more fragrance into the air.

The other villagers had noticed, starting to gather around. He saw Dana get up from lying down and look at the source of the smell.

“Smells pretty good.” someone said. Anton looked up and saw that it was Raston. He, and everyone else, seemed more interested in eating the soup than doing their work.

“Did you make it?” he asked.

“Not really. Most of it is Kal's work.” Anton answered.

He saw the others look a little surprised, but they directed a small nod of respect to Kal. She seemed pleasantly surprised by it.

“Is it nearly ready?” Dana asked. “Looks like we'll be getting just a sample with such a small pot.”

Anton looked to Kal, who straightened out her legs and crawled to look at the pot.

“Looks like it's ready. If it's bubbling from the heat, and the other food has already been cooked, it's ready to be eaten.”

“Can someone get us a few clay bowls?” Anton asked.

Dana and Raston moved to a cart and brought out a dozen clay pots, however they had no spoons to eat it with. Everything so far, except at the Duchess's mansion, had been eaten with their hands, and he had not intention of eating something that smelt so good cold or by burning his hands.

“Did anyone bring something like a spoon?”

“Yeah, a few.” one of the villagers replied, “Though not enough for everyone.”

“We'll just have to share then.”

A few wooden spoons were handed out, one to Anton but none to Kal, despite being the person who knew which mushrooms were edible and helped prepare what they were about to eat. She reached out her hand to ask but hesitated as they ignored her, eventually bringing her hand back into a fist on her chest.

She seemed quite disappointed and depressed, her eyes downcast and ears drooping low. Her whole body looked like she wanted to hide in the shadows.

Anton noticed the look of unhappiness from Dana as well. These actions grated on his mind, though it was probably not vindictive. He hoped it was not so a Beast-kin would touch their stuff.

He was about to say something when he saw the glyphs on his hand, particularly the prayer glyph.

It was able to change the bodies of people, like our vision and an immunity to poisons. Could it change inanimate objects? Like wood?

There were a few large branches near him, one was about the same size as the spoon. He glanced around and saw that nobody was paying him much attention, they seemed more interested in forming some sort of line and handing out the clay bowls.

He picked up the piece of wood and held it infront of him with the spoon in the other.

Maybe if I use this piece of wood instead of trying to make it out of nothing.

Tethra, goddess of prayer, could you make this piece of wood into a copy of this spoon? Also, make me immune to any form of poisons?

He did not like having to ask for something in such vague, and somewhat begging and needy sounding, terms, nor for two things at one but he did not have much of a choice. However it seemed to work.

A bit over a half of his mana left him at once, the rush forcing him to skip a breath in surprise. He had no idea which took more. Kal noticed his jolt out of the corner of her eye and looked over in concern.

The wooden branch in his hand trembled and shook, the outer bark cracked and turned to dust. As the dust began to fall away with the tiniest shake from his hand, it revealed the spoon within. It looked to be a near identical spoon to the one he had been given, just a different colour.

That's cool. I can make something simple like this, though it seems that the prayer power uses so much more mana than the other two to do comparatively so little. No wonder it might not be popular. If it used that much to do this I don't think I could just wish up a gun...There must be a more efficient and better way of using this....Like chants and a longer spoken prayer. Maybe it's just for healing and temporary body modification rather than creating something new. I doubt it but I really don't want to practice with so many people watching. I'll have to ask about magic books in Maxill. Can't imagine how much mana it would have taken if I tried to make it out of nothing.

“Anyway, thanks Tethra.” he mumbled lightly.

He presumed that the immunity from poison worked, something in his mind resounded lightly in agreement to his mental question.

“Here. I got something for you.” he said, handing the new spoon to Kal.

She took it, without her usual attempt at denial, and held it close to her.

“Thank you Anton.” she mumbled something else but she did not repeat it.

Anton clapped his hands together, getting everyone else’s attention.

“Alright everyone, there's not that much so it'll have to be just a bit with the rest of your meal.”

He took a sip of it before handing it out. It was good, in a simple and hearty way. There was no sign from his magic that it had any poison. He told the others that it was safe, to which they jumped at the chance to have some. The food was divided equally, Anton made sure that Kal got a decent serve of the soup and the rest of food.

Anton left the villagers to squabble over the remains while he sat on the back of the cart and made Kal sit next to him rather than alone on the ground. Beside her sat Dana and past her was Raston.

“This is insanely good.” Dana said, dipping her bread into the small portion of soup.

“It really is,” Raston added, “And to think it was just lying around in the forests all this time.”

He took a large bite of the Razor-pig meat soaked in the soup, his face contorted in pleasure. “This is really good.”

“What did you eat in Maxill?” Dana asked.

“Um, whatever we could catch, beg or steal. Most of the time it was things like rats and a few pieces of fruit that we got from some trees that we kept in the joint courtyards. It wasn't fun...I'm really nervous about going back. I have no idea how my family is going.”

“We didn't eat that well, back at Atros, though we really could have done better if we had actually worked together, rather than tearing at one another.”

They both chuckled, earning an odd look from Kal towards Anton. Anton shrugged and motioned for them to leave, quietly. They both moved to the back of another cart, free from any people.

He glanced over at both of them, hearing another light laugh. It was a little odd for them to start bonding over something so terrible but he was not one to judge.

“Are they becoming a couple?” Kal asked. “I'm not sure about human courtship in the Kar kingdom.”

“We aren't called that anymore....I don't know what we're called now. I guess it's just 'Atros', for now at least. Anyway, I don't know what's normal for building relationships here. So long as it works and it's a mutual attraction I don't see any problem with it.”

He took another bite of the Razor-pig meat as he looked over to them, the stoic Dana had a smile on her face.

“Well, let's see how this goes. Could be fun to see this work out. Was it different back where you came from?”

“Things like that had to be kept secret,” she stopped eating and turned to him, nothing on her face except something that looked like worry, “Did Verona tell you anything?”

“No,” Anton replied truthfully, “She only told me that you told her a story and that she promised not to tell me. I am curious though.”

There was a smile on Kal's face.

“Well. I didn't know that much. As a half breed Beast-kin, I was...not...popular with anyone really. I managed to escape when I was twelve, so my only experience is watching what others did.”

Her ears drooped as she looked over to Dana and Raston.

“None of it looked anything like that. One day I'll tell you about it.”

“I would like to hear it, so long as you comfortable with telling me.”

Her ears perked up as she turned and stared at him straight in the eyes.

“You're not from here? From Atros?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was from Atros?” Anton asked slyly.

“No.” Kal answered sternly. “If I was honest, I don't think your from any land on this world.”

“So, what, I'm from the oceans?”

He was lightly teasing her, enjoying watching her getting a little uncomfortable along with her tanned face becoming slight red.

“N...No. Not like that. But, I don't think that you're even from this world. I realize that it may sound like I'm trying to offend you but-”

“It's fine. I would think that I'm some wacko if I was just another villager.”

He took another bite of his meal.

“If I were to tell you that I have all my memories from another world, not what the others have been saying, what would you say?”

Kal frowned and looked the final scraps of her meal.

“Honestly, I wouldn't doubt you. It would make you make more sense about how you treat me.”

Anton laughed, liking her honesty. Kal smiled as well, her attention drawn back to the forest. It was getting very dark now.

“We should probably take our watch now. They get more active at night, and with this many people, they could easily smell us.”

Kal hopped off the cart, watching Anton do the same thing.

“Will they be attracted to this?” Anton asked, holding up the empty bowl.

Kal shook her head.

“I don't think so. They probably would have never smelt something like this before.”

She took a sniff at her arm.

“I think that they would be more attracted to our smell.”

“We'll sort that out tomorrow.”

Kal gave him an odd look.

“There's a lake about half a days walk along the path. There's a large open space there where we can relax, freshen up and get more water. Have you ever been swimming?”

Kal shook her head.

“Well, there's a lot more people than there was last time. Still, I guess we can soak some of the smell off us.”

She opened her mouth to speak, when someone else spoke to her.

“Kal, that mushroom soup was great. Can you make another one of those tomorrow night?” It was a male villager, but most of the other villagers looked quite expectant as well.

Kal staggered a step back before regaining her composure. She gripped her hands and looked them in the eye.

“Umm...sure. I...I'm glad you liked it.”

“Thanks.” another villager replied.

Kal looked to him, receiving a smile from Anton.

“People will warm up to you. Even if it starts through food.”

She smiled lightly, took a deep breath, and headed to the edge of the camp where she could keep a look-out over the camp. He did not miss the, almost, spring in her step as she walked away.

---[]---

“So, what's this thing you said about a lake?” Dana asked.
They were currently only a few minutes away, judging by the scenery that he remembered. Anton sat near the back of the cart again while Dana had brought her horse next to him so they could talk more easily.

“Up ahead a bit. It's a big fresh water lake, lots of small fish and is very peaceful. I was saying, the other day, that it would be a good place to resupply and take a quick wash.” Anton explained.

Dana looked quite happy.

“That sounds good. Get rid of this sweat and grime on my body. I only managed to use that bath once.”

She suppressed a laugh as she stroked the horses neck, getting a pleasant snort in return.

“It was rather beautiful,” Raston continued, sitting on the other side of Anton, “Good thing it was there, we would have run into problems with water if we didn't.”

“You didn't pack enough?” Dana asked.

“More like we didn't have enough for the number of people we got,” Anton explained, “They brought some of their own, which helped stretch supplies, but I thought that-”

Kal's ears twitched underneath her hood and she started sniffing at the air. She jerked her body forward, rising and twisting to look where they were traveling. Her hands gripped hard onto the wooden sides.

“Tell everyone to stop.” Anton told Dana, who let out a harsh but short whistle.

The horsemen and those leading the carts stopped, everyone grabbing their weapons. The horsemen had spears while the villagers had a mix of swords, spears and simple shields.

“What's there?” Anton asked.

Kal kept sniffing at the air, raising her hand to keep him quiet.

“Ahead, the wind is coming from. It smells like...cooking fish, and something else. Blood. It smells like there are people there, but it's a lot stronger than normal people.”

“Any idea who?” Anton asked.

She took another sniff, the look of fear palpable on her face.

“Orcs. Lots of them.”

“Fucking hell.” Anton grumbled.

“I saw those things,” Dana looked equally annoyed, “Big green hairless human looking creatures, they looked pretty strong. You could probably crush them though.”

“Hairless?” Kal asked, looking quite confused.

“They looked a bit like us, except with huge teeth and a bottom jaw that makes them look stupid.” Anton explained, getting off the cart and motioning for Kal to do the same. “Their lack of...male parts?, was a little odd.”

“They sound like Orc Thralls.” Kal said as she hopped off the cart. “I don't know much about them, only that they're only treated as workers and soldiers because of their lack of...”

Kal moved her hand over her crotch and looked at Anton.

“Penis's.” she mumbled, coughing to hide her embarrassment from saying the word.

“How good a sense of smell do the normal Orcs have?”

“Not great. Probably worse than humans.”

“Okay. Kal, you and I will go forward and see what's happening. Any more than that could attract too much attention, especially with the horses and these carts.”

Dana nodded.

“I'll keep them safe. Come back as quickly as you can.”

“Come on Kal. I need you to tell me if you see or smell anything wrong, you've got the best senses here.”

Kal nodded, both heading forward as silent as they could.

It took them quite a bit of time for them to reach the edge of the forest. Kal moved slow and low, careful to make sure that she did not make a sound when traveling over the branch and twig laden forest floor. Anton tried his best to follow properly, but occasionally stood on a small twig. The sound was unbelievably loud in the otherwise silent forest, earning him an odd look of scorn from Kal.

They were very close to the edge, able to see the open grassland through the final row of shrubs. Kal stopped him, glanced around and pointed to the south. Fifty meters was a large rock jutting above the ground, one that could be climbed. It would be a good vantage point that was shrouded by some low hanging branches.

“You think we can see out of there without being seen?” Anton asked quietly.

Kal nodded and led them to the rock. It looked like a giant piece of granite, worn down by time and the weather. Thankfully the back could easily be climbed.

They both crawled onto the top of the rock, Anton had some difficulty but Kal had none. He heard clicks from her hands and feet, underneath the cloth wraps, as she ran up the rock, like a cat up a tree. When Anton finally arrived, taking a few near slips, Kal was looking out towards the lake. From their position they could see most of the grassland, only their shaded faces were visible.

Sprawled out over the grasslands were over two hundred green humanoids.  They were instantly recognizable as Orcs, but not like those found attacking at the base of the mountain. These did not wear loin-cloth's, but a modest set of body armor. Some had their chests and arms exposed, but it was better than being nearly naked.

They all had the same oversized teeth and bottom jaw, but most had black beards and long hair. About fifty had no facial hair, their faces less square and more rounded, but still had long black hair. One got up at turned around and stretched, its formed chest armor and exposed stomach showed that it was a female. They were not all that different, not what he would call beautiful, but they could have been for their species.

Small fires blazed, small fish being roasted over them while sat around and stared at the flames. It appeared to be solemn event. As an Orc stood up, some smaller Orcs, resting on the laps or next to the larger ones, got up and ran to her. They clutched at her legs, refusing to let go until she paid them some attention. She picked up the smallest one, that looked like a girl, and started happily rubbing her nose on hers.

“Have we got some sort of migration happening here?” Anton asked, turning to Kal.

She shook her head.

“No, I don't think so. Look at their limbs and faces, they're all covered in scratches and dried blood. Looks like they've been in a big fight and relatively recently. They seem to be talking about it.”

“You can hear that far?”

“When you're not talking, I can hear them relatively well.”

There was almost something snide in the way she answered him, though it disappeared when he looked at her. She pulled her hood closer as she focused her attention forward.

“Fair enough,” he whispered, raising his hand in apology to which she returned a small smile, “I want to try using my magic again to let me hear better.”

“Like at the Kobold camp? You used something there that allowed you to see better.”

“Yeah. I hope it works.”

He chanted a prayer to improve his hearing.

The world exploded in sound, even his breathing and heartbeat sounded deafeningly loud. He brushed his hands over the rock, the crumbling of a few grain breaking free sounded like boulders smashing down on rocks.

Kal opened her mouth to speak but refrained. She appeared to have realized that his magic would make everything, even her voice, extremely loud. He could even hear her breath and heartbeat, something he had not expected to hear.

Focusing on the task infront, he focused his attention towards the Orcs as best he could.

He could hear them, even over the sound of the rustling grass and leaves and the crackling of the fires.

“Mommy, is everything okay?” the little girl in the female Orcs arms asked, “You and daddy look really worried.”

“Everything's fine dear. Everything's fine.” she brought the girl close and started to stroke her head.

Even at their current distance, Anton could tell that she did not believe it and the child looked equally worried.

“Now, you run along and play with your friends. But don't go too far, I don't want you wandering off into the forest.”

“Okay.” she replied as she was placed onto the ground.

“I mean it.” the woman said sternly.

“Okay.” the child seemed to understand and moved a few meters away to start playing some sort of game with the other Orc children.

The woman sighed and sat back down at the fire, next to a particularly large male Orc.

“Lazgar, do you think we can reach the Red Spines safely?” there was real concern in her voice.

The male Orc took a deep breath, placed his hands behind him and stretched out his back.

“If I'm honest,” he turned to look at the little girl, “I don't think so. It's at least thirty or forty days south from here. If we fight again we'll be killed.”

The others at the camp looked dejected by his words. He was probably the leader of the Orcs.

“That damn idiot, Xugug, trying to throw the entire Black Fist in with the Deweth Clans.”

“At least he didn't get everyone he wanted.” another male Orc added.

“Yeah. Except now they're dead or following him so they don't die. But, complaining won't help.” Lazgar said, everyone becoming even more depressed.

“We'll stay another day and then keep heading south.” he said, the other Orcs agreeing. “Try and get some sleep.”

He and the female Orc stood up and picked up the child, holding it between them. It was strange but a warm sight to see them holding their child so closely despite something terrible having befallen their tribe. He had no idea who the Deweth Clan's were, something Kal would possibly know.

Anton returned his hearing to normal with a quick cant, turning to Kal.

“How much of that did you manage to hear?”

“A bit. I heard the Deweth Clans, and I think they're at war with them now.”

“And who are these Deweth Clans?” Anton asked.

Kal shuffled back and rested her head on her arms.

“They live in the mountain ranges north of Atros, living amongst the snow and frost. They are a tough people, but they are so aggressive that nearly everyone is at war with them. Once they used to be quite large, and had lots of warm grasslands and forest. But the Qaiviel Kingdom and the Grataeris Empire, among others, attacked and took their land, forcing them into the ice. They hate everyone because of that. I think that even Maxill was once held by the clans.”

“Why would they tolerate the Orcs living amongst them?”

Kal shrugged.

“I don't know. But I think that they keep away from each-other so there isn't any fighting, though that seems to have changed.”

Anton looked back at the pair of adult Orcs, they looked quite normal as they played with the little girl, probably their daughter.

“These seem like they're intelligent and may be willing to talk. Do the Deweth clans wear anything distinctive?”

“They wear these large fur coats and always wear their clans' symbol on their chest. Usually some sort of bloody weapon, like an axe or sword.”

“Well, we don't look like them. If we don't startle them, they might be willing to talk. We should talk to those willing to talk and not just kill everything, they could be useful in the future as friends and allies.”

Anton started to slide down the rock, to the utter bewilderment of Kal.

“You're serious about going out there? With that many Orcs with just us?”

He was about to answer when another question came into his mind.

“What do Orcs think about Beast-kin, or at least half-breeds?” he said, motioning to her.

“I don't know. I think they'll be okay, or at least just as angry as they will be with you.”

“If things go wrong, I can just use magic for something far more devastating than I used at the Kobold camp. Did you think that the training yard, back at Atros, was barren dirt like that? That was me.”

Her mouth almost dropped from her head, before closing it.

“I should have realized who I was talking to. So, how do we do this?”

---[]---

Anton slowly moved forward, using a spare piece of cloth from Kal attached to a stick to act as a rudimentary flag. They could both see the Orcs, but they had not seen them yet. Kal, quite wisely, stood behind Anton while peering around his shoulder. She had taken out her bow and knocked an arrow in readiness, not that it would do that much compared to Anton's magic but he liked her eagerness.

There was only the small row of shrubs left, that barely came up to his chest, to cover him.

“This is probably stupid, but here goes nothing.”

He pushed the flag forward, making quite a bit of rustling noise.

The Orcs near the edge heard but were initially not alarmed, they must have thought it was just a wild animal. They turned around dismissively to look. The calmness evaporated in an instant when they realized it was a human approaching along with a cloaked stranger with a readied bow.

In a flurry, male and female, picked up and wielded axes and swords, pointing them at Anton and Kal. The children looked terrified and ran behind the safety of the adults.

One of the larger male Orcs near him moved forward, holding his axe level with Antons' head. Seeing them up close he realized how tall they were, about two and a half meters at least, and far more well built than most humans, every muscle quite large and well defined with little to no fat. There was about twenty meters between them but they looked like they could cover that distance incredibly quickly despite their size.

“You clansmen?” he asked, more guttural and primitive sounding than their leader.

“Deweth clans? No.” Anton replied.

They did not relax. The one called Lazgar moved through to the front, the woman and child hanging back.

“Then who are you?” Lazgar asked, he spoke more eloquently than other Orc.

Damn, what do we call ourselves?

“We are travelers from the east.” Anton began to explain, “We do not mean you any harm, merely wishing to pass through without incident. I take it you are the leader of this group?”

Lazgar said nothing, but the other Orcs looked to him.

“And you, are you the leader of your group? There's no way that just you two could have made it this far on your own.”

“I...I guess you could call me that.” Anton answered. “Anyway, can we come out? You guys seem like you want to talk rather than fight.”

Lazgar looked at the other Orcs, all seemed quite tired, physically and mentally.

“How many more of you are there?”

“About twenty of us,” Anton answered truthfully, “They're a bit back. My friend here,” Anton moved slightly to reveal Kal, “managed to find you, so we went ahead to investigate. We only want to move through and collect some water.”

Lazgar and a few of the Orcs formed a huddle while the others kept their weapons raised. Kal kept her bow and arrow knocked, but most of the attention was on Anton. He untied and handed the cloth back to Kal, she seemed glad to have it back. She tied it around her waist. He noticed that the cloth added quite a bit of volume to her, she must be very skinny underneath her cloth rags. She saw his glance, gave a quick but odd frown, and kept her attention focused forward.

The Orcs parted their huddle.

“Okay. You can bring your friends, get your water, and be on your way.”

“That's fine with us.”

Anton turned to Kal.

“Can you go back and tell them to hurry here? I'll stay here,” he leant down so they could not hear, “And make sure that they don't do anything stupid.”

“You sure?” she seemed very concerned about his safety, clear on her frowning face. Her eyes contracted slightly out of fear for him.

“I'll be fine. Go on.” Anton patted her on the shoulder. She grimaced but nodded, following his order and running quickly into the forest, giving a final look back before disappearing.

“It'll be a little bit before they arrive,” Anton said, “And if I'll be honest, I'll feel a bit more comfortable when they're here.”

“You don't seem that worried.” another Orc said. He was quite large, even compared to a regular Orc, but looked like that was all he had was his size and strength. Anton saw Lazgar take a silent sigh.

“Indeed.” Anton replied, “I don't want to be involved in any fighting that I don't have to be.”

The Orc was about to speak again, puffing out his exposed chest, but Lazgar moved forward and put his hand on his shoulder. Now they were close he could clearly see the dried blood and wounds that Kal spoke of. Some looked extremely deep but dry, like they were some days old but they were still raw. There were other cuts and scratches but they looked quite old.

“It's alright Shuzug.” Lazgar turned to Anton. “Forgive my brother, he tends to get riled up over the smallest things. We've....we've been through a lot.”

“You guys look battered and scared.”

They refused to answer.

“There's no point in trying to hide it.” Anton said, “Some of those wounds look quite fresh.”

He pointed to a particularly large gash on Shuzug's chest. Shuzug glanced at his brother but said nothing.

“Do you have a name, Traveler?” Lazgar asked.

“Anton. And my friend that ran into the forest is called Kal.” Anton answered.

“I am Lazgar, leader of what remains of the Black Fist clan.” He turned around and shrugged his arms and let them fall loudly to his side. “It's not as impressive as it once was.”

“It seems like you've had a rough time.” Anton replied.

“I think it's best that we wait until your friends arrive before we speak anymore.” Lazgar said, the finality clear in his voice.

“As you wish. I will wait here until they arrive.”

Lazgar and the other Orcs seemed to appreciate this though Shuzug remained close, his large axe held in both hands ready to strike. However he stayed his blade as he occasionally glanced back at his brother.

Another few minutes passed in silence. Some of the children looked at him in curiosity while the women kept them back. Compared to the men they were far more lithe and delicate, but not very much so. Even the largest women in Atros, and most back on Earth, paled in comparison to their physique. They had the same oversized bottom jaw but it was less exaggerated, the rest of their faces otherwise similar to a woman’s. All had jet black hair, just like the men, and had dark brown eyes.

Despite their size and stature they seemed terrified by him, they were stroking their children but it seemed to be more reassurance for them rather than for the children. It must have been because he was not worried about being alone with them. Perhaps the Deweth Clans had many mages.

Lazgar and his group remained standing near Anton, the others sat back around the fires, some even catching some fish on a spear. Despite the fear they continued, Anton felt like he could see some sort of grim nihilism in how they worked, like they knew the end was coming for them no matter what they did.

Behind him he could hear the rumbling of the carts and sound of horses hooves.

The Orcs readied themselves again as the villagers emerged, led by Dana, with Kal walking beside. Lazgar looked surprised though tried his best to hide it.

The villagers, rather nervously, led their carts past the shrubs and into the grasslands. Lazgar gave a glance to his people and waved them away from the lake. The Orcs left the shoreline closest to the East, to which Anton waved his own people towards it.

He could feel the tension in the air but did not wish to make a potentially volatile situation worse. With a few, unhappy and thoroughly nervous, villagers starting to refill the pots in the clear lake Kal, Dana and Raston came up to Anton. Dana dismounted her horse and walked it and herself towards him.

“Lot more Orcs than I thought, lot more than you hinted at,” Dana said, glancing towards Kal, “At least they're not those thralls.”

Lazgar's head twitched towards them, along with many of the other adults.

“Did you see some?” the female orc next to Lazgar asked, “They look a bit like Lazgar...but...smaller and thinner. Um...more like you humans.”

“We did see some recently.” Anton replied.

“And?” she and quite a few of the women seemed quite concerned.

“How many?” asked another.

“Were they in a group?”

“There were a few hundred. They were dead.” Anton answered, leaving out that he was the one that killed them.

A mixture of relief and sadness overcame their faces.

“Did you know them?” he asked.

The female Orc nodded.

“One may have been my first...son.” she seemed to be on the verge of tears, Lazgar's arm holding her tight. “I'm just glad that they're not suffering anymore.”

Anton approached Lazgar, so they would not have to talk so loudly, Kal right behind with her bow and knocked arrow still in her hands. She kept her hood drawn down tight, enough for her to see out, but Anton could still see her distinctive green eyes peering out.

Anton whispered to Dana and Raston that he would be fine, they moved to the carts and helped collecting more water. It was quite clear that they would not get the chance to clean themselves here.

“But first, how did you make it through the monster wastelands?” Lazgar asked. “There's nothing there. Nothing to scavenge or steal or trade. I don't know why you would want to go through there. Did you come from the Grataeris Empire?”

“Something like that.” Anton replied.

“There's a large Yellow Goblin nest in the mountain and a whole bunch of Green Goblin's infesting the mines further east. Not to mention the Kobolds,  Feral Thumpers and the Grey, White and Golden wolves. How did you make it through?” the woman asked, looking quite worried. He still did not know her name and wanted to know before continuing.

“I don't believe I got your name.”

“It's Uro,” she gave a little wave with her free hand, “And this is Batul.”

The child waved and retreated into her mother's arms.

“Pleased to meet you Uro, Lazgar and Batul.” Anton gestured behind him, “The woman on the horse is Dana and the man next to her is Raston.”

“So, how did you make it through?” he asked again.

Anton looked to Kal, “We kept out of the way for the most part, keeping quiet and moving when it was safe. Got through without attracting too much attention. What about you? You don't look like your settling down here.”

Lazgar and Uro shook their heads.

“No.” she answered, turning her head and whispering into his ear but loud enough that he could listen in just barely, “Should we tell them? We'll be gone but I think they deserve to know.”

His face looked a little uncomfortable but he seemed to agree.

“Well, we'd better sit down for this.” he said, the other Orcs moving away from a fire for them, “It could take a while.”

They sat infront of the fire, Kal remained standing but they did not seem to take offense. The child Batul was allowed to run away to play with the other children.

“Your people can take their time. We are not up for fighting unless we have to.” Lazgar seemed very tired when he said the last half.

“Anyway, What do you know about the thralls?” Uro asked, “Do you know how they died. I...We really want to know.”

“I don't know. It looked liked they had been killed and left. They only had some rags over their groins.” Anton answered. “Although, that was....interesting. They were missing parts but it did not look like they had been mutilated.”

Uro clasped her green hands very tightly as she held them in her lap.

“It...happens the first time. A child is born...lacking.” she began to explain. “Every first child, no matter what. Not boy or girl, no hair and very thin for an Orc. Some of the shamans think that they are abominations or think they're a sign of bad things to come, and they always want them cast out. But...”

There were tears growing in her eyes.

“We still love them. They aren't mean. They aren't evil. They're just like us in every other way, they're not monsters. It's just so hard when they get ripped away from us.”

She started crying, trying her best to not break down completely. The pain and loss was clear on her face, even Lazgar looked to be close to tearing up.

“Do the shamans take them away?” Anton asked.

Uro was still trying to stop crying, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears but could not answer in anything more than sobs, so Lazgar answered for her.

“Yes. They take them away to the mountains and we barely ever see them again.”

“I've heard that they're used as workers and soldiers.” Anton said.

Lazgar nodded.

“Since they cannot be used for creating children, they are used like slaves. I saw my son once, carrying some wood up a steep hill. I tried calling out to him but none of them even noticed, only showing the tiniest emotion when the shamans started hitting them. It's a...little difficult to talk about.”

Lazgar took a deep breath. “But, we all need to keep moving and working hard for the rest of us.”

Anton heard the laughter of the children playing. Despite the adults best effort they were starting to try and play with the villagers. The villagers themselves looked a little awkward and politely tried to send them back to the other Orcs, something the Orcs seemed to appreciate, judging by their slowly warming faces to the humans.

“Your daughter, Batul, seems fine.”

“Yeah, thankfully.” Uro replied, having stopped crying, “She's our lovely girl. Every child after the first is normal and completely healthy. I don't understand why it happens, but there's nothing we can do about it now. Nothing the shamans do stop the first being born a thrall either.”

“When they get too old,” Lazgar continued, “They're sent out to pillage the human villages and traders in the surrounding kingdoms and empires, lying to humans that they are renegade and feral while they bring back whatever valuables they can. Then sent back out. The humans know its a lie but don't care much, and use them for their soldiers and knights as....practice. It's....”

“I'm just glad that they're not hurting anyone else now. They can rest.”

Because they've been killed by me. Though, they didn't seem like they wanted to talk. Perhaps they wanted death? Seeking it but not willing or able to do it themselves...What a terrible...existence.

“So what's your group doing in the forest? By the sounds of things you live in the mountain ranges.”

“We did.” Lazgar replied. “I was a lower clan chief in the Black Fist clan, the largest Orc clan in the Frozen Ranges.”

He thumped his chest, a modicum of pride in his face. It quickly turned to one of remorse and regret.

“There was the human mage, a woman from the old Kar Kingdom, that said that we had over a million warriors. Strange one.”

Huh, that's the second time that I've heard of that woman, if it's the same one. I wonder if she's still alive?

“We were feared and respected by all the other Orc and human clans. Anyway, my father's brother, Xugug, took control of the clan by murdering my father. Normally it has to be an election, but you could take control if you beat the current chieftain in a fair fight, but nobody has chosen that path in hundreds of winters.”

“But not in a straight up fight for the position?”

“No. He poisoned him and he could barely fight back.”

“He wouldn't dare fight your father if he was well.” Uro said, grasping his hand.

“Many of the others didn't like how he took control. He renamed our clan to the Wrath of Doom. Terrible name. There have been fights between the two for the past three winters. He was loosing badly. Finally, he got the Deweth Clans involved, and wiped us out in a single fight.”

Lazgar barely looked like he could hold back his anger.

“Now, I think this is it. The other Orcs are either loyal to him or keeping their heads down to save their own. I don't blame them for that.”

He looked around to the Orcs around him.

“We're heading further south. There's a small mountain range, the Red Spines. There are a few small Orc clans there, they'll take us in.”

“I wish you luck in your journey.” Anton said.

“Thank-you.” they both said.

Uro frowned lightly as she looked towards Kal.

“So, Kal?, you're heading to the Qaiviel Kingdom with him...why would a half-breed Beast-kin want to head there?” she asked.

Kal frowned but refused to answer, perhaps not knowing what to say.

“You've seen them before?” Anton asked.

Lazgar chuckled.

“It would be impossible to miss those green eyes of your girl there. Very pretty. I've seen a few before in the mountain ranges, though they always have had a steel collar around their neck.”

“Slaves?” Anton asked, turning around and looking Kal in her eyes. It looked hollow and vacant.

Both Lazgar and Uro looked very uncomfortable.

“If you thought what happens to the thralls is bad, you definitely don't want to know what happened to them.”

He heard Kal's hand grip tightly onto the wooden bow. She must have some idea how they were suffering.

“But, she's a half-breed,” Uro continued, “And quite pretty.”

He glanced back and see that she was almost blushing.

“And you seem comfortable with her being here and even acting as a bodyguard. Humans tend not to like anything that's not themselves. Especially something so close and yet so far.”

“I've been wondering that myself.” Kal murmured.

“I don't have a problem with someone based on what they look like,” Anton answered, “If they do something bad then I'll hate them then. Until then I'll give them a chance. Orcs and humans have a bad relationship?”

“It's not great, with all the thralls raiding villages. But it's still miles better than the one your kind have with the Beast-kin.”

“Anton!?” Dana yelled from the waters edge. “We're all stocked up and ready to go.”

“I hope that you make it to the Red Spines safely, it sounds like you have been through quite an ordeal. But, we need to get going ourselves.” Anton said as he stood up, Lazgar and Uro following.

Dana whistled and started moving the carts to the west and towards Maxill. The Orcs parted and allowed them through. Lazgar and Uro followed them.

Anton turned around to say his farewells when he saw Lazgar's brother hobbling towards them. He was clutching at his right leg, around his knee. Anton was too distracted by his size and intimidating  frame that he had not noticed.

“What's wrong with your brother...Shuzug?”

Lazgar turned to his brother and looked down at his knee.

“Hurt my leg fighting off some dumb clansmen.” Shuzug answered. “Killed 'em but one managed to get my leg with an axe.”

“Huh, I might have something for that.”

Anton moved forward, Shuzug tensing and moving a hand to his axe as Anton moved to touch his shoulder. He looked to his brother who looked confused at the sight. Anton held out his other hand to show that he did not have a weapon. Eventually Lazgar gave a light nod and Shuzug relaxed, allowing Anton to touch the outer of his shoulder armor.

Anton chanted a healing prayer in his head, feeling the magic flow out of him and into the Orc. He felt the wound heal and the fractured bones restore itself.

Shuzug looked utterly bewildered, unaccustomed to the sensation, as his eyes darted between Anton and his leg.

Anton took a few steps back, allowing Shuzug to flex his leg without impediment. The other Orcs looked shocked as well.

“Thank you, human.” he said gruffly, “No. Anton. I won't forget this.”

He did not look like he knew what to do so he roughly bowed his head.

Anton smiled in return, the other Orcs following his clumsy bow. He gave them one final wave before hopping onto the last cart along with Kal.

“Good luck, Orcs of the Black Fist. May we meet again.” he shouted back.

“Safe travel on your journey.” Lazgar shouted in return.

With one final wave from the villagers and Orcs, they parted, having kept the peace and hopefully left a good impression.

When they were out of range of the lake Dana moved her horse beside their cart and Raston moved  closer.

“That was interesting.” Raston said. “I never thought I would meet an Orc that wasn't going to rip my head off. Not that I've ever met one.”

“I was focusing on talking to the two, did the others do anything to you guys?”

“If they had, you definitely would have heard us say something.” Dana said, somewhat sarcastically. “But, most of them didn't want to talk to us. They did stop one of us from standing on a slippery spot of mud near the waters edge, apart from that they didn't want to talk to us.”

“You did try saying something, right?”

“Um...not really.” Raston answered. “We felt all a bit nervous. They are so much bigger than we are and I think I speak for all of us when I say that we didn't want to piss them off. What did you do that got them both crying?”

“Oh, that.” Anton stretched his legs and arms. “Dana, remember the Orcs at the mountain?”

“Yeah. Didn't see them though.”

“It seems that one of them may have been their son, and not just theirs.”

Everything went quiet, Dana let out a light whistle in relief.

“I didn't tell them that it was me, just that they died.”

“Well. That's not something you want to hear from the person sitting across from you.” Dana said. “I'll take the lead again.”

As she started pulling away she turned her head back.

“What else are we going to find out here? We still need to get back alive to Atros.”

-------------

Hello Everyone.

Took a bit of time to look this one over, this is the longest chapter I've done.

Anyway, this chap introduces normal orcs. I didn't want them like Warhammer orcs, they ended up more like ones from Warcraft, ones that are more reasonable and can be talked to without getting your head caved in. A bit of their politics and life brought in as well.

Also, with Kal, she's not going to be an Expositron, able to give up valuable information all the time. Being alone for decades will leave anyone out of touch with the more intimate details of society, so not everything will be the truth, not that she would know that. People are starting to warm up to her, though slowly.

Next chapter...sometime.

I hope that you enjoyed it!

Chapter 031 - The Last Night

Chapter 031:

There was less than a days travel before they reached Maxill and everyone had made camp for the night. Anton was not on watch and curled up to sleep infront of the fire. Kal and a few other villagers were on watch. Some of the villagers were starting to talk to her, about things other than food. It seemed to be having a positive effect on Kal as well. She started smiling a tiny bit more, not enough to show her canine teeth though.

His dreams and thoughts drifted back to Atros, wondering how they all were doing, especially his little silver fox. She would probably find it cute if she found out that he had mentally called her that. Though not when she was fighting with that wild smile of hers and while drenched in and manipulating blood. That was a little frightening, especially the way she seemed to get lost in the fighting. Regardless, he was missing the feeling of her warmth and touch on his body.

He wondering what she was up to back at Atros. It would, hopefully, be a pleasant month off from fighting.

Something started to knock him out of his pleasant dreaming. It was a gentle push on his head, then another. The dream began to fade and the flicker of the orange light of the fire entered his sleepy eyes.

Another hit struck him in the gut, quite hard. He let out an involuntary splutter as he reached out and grabbed a hold of whatever was hitting him. It was about the size of a large branch but it was not solid. The outside was rough, but not in the same way as wood, and it felt as if there was some give underneath. Soft even.

His eyes opened fully. He was holding something made of rough cloth, Kal's foot. It definitely did not feel the same as a humans foot, there did not appear to be a heel where he had grabbed at the base of her foot, only something vaguely hard to give it a similar shape.

However he knew that it was not something to worry about right then.

Kal was not someone who would hit him, even lightly, for no good reason.

She looked quite scared, but not because he had grabbed her foot. Her eyes almost shone in the darkness as they rapidly glanced between him and the outside of the camp.

“What's happening?” he whispered as quietly as he could.

Kal knelt down, her bow was out and had an arrow knocked.

“I smell something on the wind.” she took a deep sniff at the air. “It's blood, lots of it. It smells like the Orcs.”

He slapped his face to wake himself more quickly, the clarity of his vision quickly returning. The other villagers were being woken by those on watch as quietly as they could.

“I thought we left on good terms.” Anton lamented as he stood up, brushing a few leaves and pieces of dirt from his clothes.

Kal shook her head.

“It's Orc blood, but there is another smell. It's-”

There was a glint in the darkness, two of them very close together. Almost as quickly as they emerged they disappeared. It was the way that they slinked back into the shadows that gave him the chills.

They looked very familiar.

“Kal, do you smell something like a dog...or a wolf?”

Kal paled slightly as she nodded towards him. As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness he could see more and more glints moving about, the light from the fire reflected in their eyes. There were dozens at the very least. The other villagers, and animals, had noticed and were beginning to panic.

“I've never fought this many before.” Kal said with almost a whimper.

“Everyone, move to the animals try and form a circle. Make sure they don't get attacked.” Anton ordered. “Dana, I don't think you'll be on horses for this one, it's way too dark to see properly.”

“Thought so.” Dana replied, wielding a spear in both hands.

Everyone retrieved their weapons and formed a circle as best they could. The wolves or ,whatever creatures they were, lurked outside their camp still not willing to attack. Anton moved onto the top of a cart to get a better vantage point, Kal following. They were the only two that had ranged capabilities.

“We can't just wait forever for them to attack.” Anton started. “I'll make a light and see what we're dealing with. Just...everyone, try to make it through this no matter what.”

He did not wait for a reply, forming a small fireball in his hands. He focused his mental energy into making it as bright as possible at the expense of any destructive capability.

With a tiny push of mana, the fireball flew above his head. The entire area burst into light.

He kind of wished he did not know. A quick glance around showed how much trouble they were in.

Almost fifty grey and white wolves had surrounded them. They snarled and growled but seemed hesitant to advance. The sudden bright light had startled them, making them hesitate. He had seen this at the lake with the wolves that attacked them there, when something new and unexpected happened. They were not stupid beasts that would just charge in.

Last time Verona was with them and had single handedly killed them all, as part of her awakening to her powers. Now it was considerably different.

That also means that there's probably a large one, an Alpha, hiding somewhere behind these. If we can kill that one the rest will run.

“Anyone see an Alpha wolf?” Anton asked. “It'll probably be a lot bigger than the others.”

The villagers looked around and found nothing. It, if it was leading the wolf pack, must be hiding somewhere in the shadows.

The wolves recovered from the stun of the light emerging and began to advance from all sides.

“Everyone, stay together and don't get pulled out of formation, even if it's to help someone else.” Anton said, “We need to kill enough for the Alpha to show itself and once it's dead they'll run.”

He glanced quickly at Kal, she seemed to have no objection to the idea. She nodded and pulled back on her bow.

“Here we go then.”

Anton decided to use lightning bolts, the other types of magic that he knew of were too slow and cumbersome to deal with the rapid wolves, especially with them darting in from the shadows. While he could have used fire magic it would probably set fire to the forest, and the lightning bombs could create so much debris flying about that he might not be able to see the wolves coming, not to mention it would stun his own villagers.

He summoned eight lightning bolts and threw them at the wolves in front.

The bolts struck the wolves square in the face, the force so great they barely let out a whimper as they died. Fur blackened and skin charred with large chucks of flesh being blown off, exposing the damaged skull underneath.

The wolves did not seem to be worried that eight of them had died in a second. The ones behind him snarled and charged, covering the distance like it was not even there. Had they not seen their comrades die?

As Anton prepared another barrage of lightning he heard the twang of a bow being released.

Kal let an arrow loose at a wolf behind him, striking it in the shoulder. It howled in pain as it rolled and twisted onto the ground. The other wolves around it slowed, for just a moment, before returning to their charge. The idea of pain must have been greater for them than the fear of death, death being so final.

The wolves were only a few meters away, Anton let loose as many bolts as he could but it was still not enough. A dozen died either side, blunting the attack from those directions, but a few got close. The villagers raised their weapons as the wolves smashed into the villagers shields, swinging their weapons at them at the last moment. Chunks of blood and fur flew into the air, a few with spears moved back and attacked from behind the relatively safety of the shields.

Another twang of a bow being released came from behind him. The wolves were still running at them from the rear. Kal's arrow struck one in the eye, its body falling tumbling and falling limp.

She pulled out another arrow as the wolves attacked the villagers in the rear, two wolves leapt up and jumped at the both of them. It was terrifying to see them leap so far and high, baring teeth and claws. Anton fired off another two lightning bolts in quick succession, both only striking one as its body twisted into the way of the second bolt and the second wolf.

Kal dropped the bow and pulled out a dagger. The surviving wolf tackled her, receiving a cut to the face but managed to knock her down. She landed harshly on the back of the wooden cart amongst the boxes of supplies, the arrows flying out of her quiver and scattering over the cart. The wolf did not wait for her to respond and tried to bite her. Her feet kicked wildly at its face as she tried to get back upright to attack. It continued to snap at her as she kicked it in the snout, receiving a snap on her toes.

Kal hit back with an almighty kick. The wolf flew back, its hind legs landed on the edge of the cart. It lunged again, pushing off the edge of the cart and back at Kal. There was panic on her face as she had yet to stand back up. She pulled her foot back to kick, but the wolf had learned.

It bit down hard onto her foot. She screamed in pain as the wolf trashed its head about, like her foot was a chew toy.

All this happened in a matter of a few seconds.

The two were too close for Anton to use a lightning bolt normally, it could run through its body and kill Kal. He reduced the power of the lightning bolt, just enough to stun, and threw it at the wolf.

The bolt struck it in the side and stunned the beast, Kal taking the chance and stabbed it in the neck. She appeared unaffected by the blast. With a whimper it died and slumped off to the side. Her foot bleed through her hand as she clutched it tight.

Anton glanced around to see how the battle was going. The wolves were being held off, only a few villagers had been wounded. He fired off a few more bolts off before checking on Kal.

“Are you okay?” Anton asked, squatting down.

“I'm fine.” Kal said through her gritted canine teeth. She had already re-bandaged her foot with a loose piece of cloth and moved it underneath her body so he could not get a good look at it. “We've got more important things to worry about.”

“Right.” Anton quickly replied. Later he would need to check up on her.

He stood back up. There were only a few wolves attacking them, the rest were looking on terrified; their tail tucked between their legs, and glancing towards a single spot.

So that's where you're hiding.

Anton fired lightning bolts at the few wolves left attacking, each dying in a single hit. The villagers had killed quite a few by themselves, now breathing deeply in relief for the reprieve. They had a few cuts but nothing major, it was quite gratifying to see how well they worked together.

“There it is.” Kal said She remained on her knees, probably without the strength to stand yet. She picked up her bow and knocked another arrow.

A large set of eyes started to move forward, the shadowy silhouette of the wolf moving closer through the darkness.

This one was massive, far larger than the one that appeared at the lake. It was more the size of a large bear than a wolf. How such a thing could grow to that size was beyond him.

He snapped his mind from admiring the beast to trying to kill it. A lightning bolt arced from his hand and straight at its face.

It struck, burning some fur around its nose but little else. If anything it seemed to laugh, however mad that would seem.

I put quite a bit of power in that bolt...is it like that Alpha Thumper? Does it have that purple magic inhibitor flesh? This could get really bad.

He summoned lightning bombs and threw them. The Alpha wolf ran, darting from side to side as it charged them. It dogged a few but most struck its face and body. White light burst from each impact but it kept running. There were a few more wounds but they looked superficial at best.

Fearing the worst, he started to form a lightning ring that would blast the charging wolf. The villagers began to whimper.

An arrow flew forward and pierced its eye.

The Alpha wolf dug its feet into the ground and brought itself to a halt, howling in pain as it used front paws to scratch away at the arrow.

That purple flesh was fragile in the Alpha Thumper, so the rest of it's probably just as strong as a regular, bear sized, wolf's flesh.

“Again!” Anton told Kal.

She nodded, drawing back another arrow from her kneeling position.

The wolf broke off the arrow in its eye, leaving a small wooden stump behind. Its mouth drew back, exposing its gums as it growled.

Now it was really mad.

The villagers remained silent, more than willing to not keep their distance.

Another arrow flew, hitting its shoulder. It howled in pain, turned around and ripped it out, throwing it far away.

She did not wait for him to order another shot, letting loose another arrow and striking it in the center of its skull.

It whimpered and shook its head. Now it actually seemed quite wounded.

Anton summoned another fireball, making it as hot as he could possibly manage. There was a chance that it would set fire to the grass and the forest around the wolf but they had to survive this first. Kal did not have that many arrows left within easy reach, most had been scattered about by the wolf's attack, and its size alone would make it deadly up close.

The fireball was small but white hot, using quite a bit of mana to create and maintain. It was hot enough to make the others recoil from the heat.

He threw it straight at the wolfs head, particularly where the two wooden arrow heads stood out. The fireball hit the center of its head as the beast was about to resume its charge. It exploded in white flames, the wooden arrows igniting instantly, along with a good portion of its fur around the wound.

It screamed.

The fur burned, not charred. The arrows acted like conduits drawing the heat straight into its skull without having to penetrate through the layers of purple flesh. The small holes expanded to the size of a golf ball. Underneath, through the dying flickers of the flame, he could see its blackening skull exposed to the light and air.

It let out a final whimper and slumped down, smoke pouring out of its empty eye socket and the center of its head. Tiny wisps of smoke started to emanate from its mouth as well.

Some grass around the head began to shrivel and twist from the residual heat. He had not intended it to be that hot. Its remaining eye expanded and burst as it boiled, the rest of the flesh in its mouth began to slowly blister and its tongue swelled and changed color. The head twitched one last time then was still.

The remaining wolves looked at each-other and yelped, running back into the darkness and safety of the forest, their tails tucked between their legs.

Kal shot another arrow into the Alpha Wolf. It landed with a thump into its neck.

It remained still.

“Is it dead?” Raston asked.

Anton honestly had no idea, but by the way its face was continuing to slowly burn, it probably was.

Thanks the gods that the arrows allowed the magic to burn through. Is it that the flesh is only resistant to magic when it's undamaged, like a bullet-proof vest? The arrows allowed the heat to pierce it regardless, if it actually had any of that purple flesh. It's something that's probably going to be useful to know in the future.

“I think so.” Anton replied, “Could someone poke it with a spear?”

Dana was the one to move forward, Anton saw the concern on Raston's face. She jabbed it in face. Life had left the beast.

“That was quite....” Raston could not finish, resting himself upon the cart. The other villagers, and Anton himself, were starting to shake. The adrenaline was wearing off and the relief of surviving was kicking in. It was not severe but it was certainly noticeable.

Anton scanned the surroundings. There was no sign of the wolves and all the animals were safe, it a little scared. He kept the fireball above them going as the villagers began to spread out, some just sitting on the ground to rest.

“Yes. Yes it was.” Anton answered, “Take a breather, and I'll get to healing everyone in a bit.”

---[]---

It had only been a short battle, one no where near as violent or large as fighting the Yellow Goblins or Kobolds, but Anton felt a noticeable drop of strength in his body. He had used a bit of mana to kill the wolves and heal the villagers, which left him feeling somewhat depleted. The adrenaline withdrawal was probably adding to that.

The other villagers tried their best to get some sleep but he could see it was very hard for them. A few stood on watch while the others did their best to get some rest, but they still seemed alert, like their bodies would not let them sleep. Anton was the same, he had gotten a few hours sleep before the attack so he would manage.

None of the villagers needed serious healing, some had some deep bite marks but they were quickly healed with his prayer magic. They had done very well in keeping themselves undamaged and none of the animals had been attacked.

His attention was brought back to the large Alpha Wolf. It had taken quite a few hits before going down. If there were a few archers with them they would have made short work of it, regardless of its magic resistance. While magic was undeniably strong, when something like this emerged, that resisted his attacks, it made him feel quite weak. A sense of security that the magic gave him was gone during that fight.

There was something different about this one, something primal and strange, its size not withstanding. The one at the lake had been killed by Verona. He did care to investigate it there, especially while there were more important things to worry about, like their survival.

He walked up to it and knelt down. To see what he had done, despite the magic resistance, was somewhat terrifying. The skin had curled away, the ends of the fur had turned black and reeked of the disgusting smell of brunt hair. Underneath that a fragment of exposed bone, where Kal's arrow once existed and allowed the heat to travel through to the brain underneath, blackened by unimaginable heat. Judging by the how dark the bone now was the brain underneath should be smouldering inside its skull.

Using a knife, he prodded around at the flesh and saw something odd at the very edge of a relatively undamaged section. He cut deeply at a fresh section. Amongst the red flesh there was something purple layered amongst the red. With the knife he prodded it, the thing layer of purple flesh disintegrating with a single touch.
Just like the Alpha Thumper.

I thought it might have that. The magic resistant purple flesh...Maybe whatever makes this one so large, and that Thumper, is connected to this purple flesh. It's a long shot, but I wonder if Kal might know something.

He turned to see Kal crouched on top of the cart, her head and ears twitching as she kept an eye out for any other attacks.  Anton guessed that the wolf pack was the dominant predatory group in the region. Not many creatures would be foolish enough to attack them now, especially as they are all still alive and so many dead wolves lay about. Perhaps some scavengers might try something.

She had not moved since the fight and he had yet to heal her. She insisted that everyone else be looked at first, getting angry when he insisted on seeing her first.

“Kal?” Anton called out.

Her head twitched in his direction, happy but also somewhat pained. He did not know how much damage the wolf attack had managed to do. She had covered her foot before he could get a look at it. His mind flickered back to when she kicked him, soft underneath the cloth wrappings and a little different to what he was expecting. It would be a good chance to heal her and check if she knew anything.

“You have a moment? I want you to look at something.”

She nodded and hopped off the cart. As her feet touched the ground she cried out in pain and clutched at her right foot. There was fresh blood all over it. As she rubbed it something white stood out of the center, almost hidden by the newly wrapped piece of cloth which had come loose.

It looked like a broken tooth, she must have been attacked far worse than he thought. The idea that she would hide an injury like that was not a pleasant one. Some of the other villagers looked over in concern and then to Anton. He had already started walking towards her when she looked up.

“If you had gotten hurt you should have just said so.” he said, almost chastising her by his tone.

As he knelt down to get a better look Kal shifted her injured foot back behind the other and pushed him away quite forcefully.

“No! No. I'll be alright.” she said back to him, the pain clear in her voice.

She kept her head down as she tried to take another step back, whimpering as she applied pressure to the foot. Her breathing started to quicken and become more erratic as she lifted her foot up so it hanged limp in the air.

“Kal. Stop it.” he said commandingly.

She looked up, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes.

“You're hurt. And I can help.” he said, sitting down and motioning for her to do the same. “If your worried about what I may think about you after seeing your foot, don't. You know by know that I'm not going to think any differently of you.”

The apprehension started to fade, finally disappearing as her shoulders slumped down.

“Okay.” she replied, “I'm sorry I did that.”

“It's fine.” Anton said, waving his hand to let her know he did not worry about it. “Now, sit down so I can get a better look at it.”

“Can't you just use your prayer power and heal it?” she asked in a last attempt to avoid having to show him her naked foot.

Anton had another glance at her foot. The tooth was sticking out nearly an inch either side of the cloth.

“I could, but when I've used it before they've always been an open wound or something similar. There's never been a foreign body part in a wound I've healed. For all I know it might heal around it, and that's something I know you definitely don't want.”

Kal grimaced and pursed her lips, finally relenting to Anton. With a slight groan she sat herself down with her back against the cart's wheel. She held out her injured foot, allowing Anton to get a hold of it and a better look at it.

The other villagers saw that Anton was taking care of it. Most went back to sleeping, a few trying to move the corpses away as best they could.

He picked up her foot and held it infront of him with both hands. She seemed to be in great discomfort, though he did not know if it was from the physical pain or apprehension that he was actually holding her foot and about to see what lay underneath.

The tooth had not only gone through her foot but had dragged quite a bit of the cloth through with it. He looked underneath and it looked better but not by much. She must not want anyone to see her feet to hide it so desperately.

“Okay. It looks like it's dragged it through.”

Kal looked quite upset.

“So...um, we're going to have to take the bandage off your foot. At least where the tooth is.”

He glanced up and saw that her face was completely drenched in fear, her tanned face was almost deathly white. Her feet were clearly not human but she had shown them her hands without too much concern.

Maybe they're so different that she's worried that I might think of her as a complete freak.

Kal took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Okay. It comes off below the knee.”

She reached into a slightly larger fold just below her knee and pulled out the end of the cloth rag. It appeared to have just been tucked tightly into a fold of cloth to keep it on her leg.

He gently placed the foot onto the ground, the thought of him holding her foot while she removed the cloth wrappings was a little strange. Just like at the first time they met, she took it off very slowly. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the cloth.

As the cloth wraps began to loosely fall away it revealed the dark aqua fur all the way up to just below the knee, the same color as her ears and hands, that lay underneath. It looked quite rough with many knots and tufts throughout it, unlike her arms.

The cloth remained attached where the tooth dragged it through, but it was more than enough to get a look at her foot. She had an impressive set of calves on her, despite her lack of food over the years, but below that it became quite clear why she had been so frightened.

Her foot was not even remotely human. If he had to describe it quickly, it was an odd mix of a dogs and human feet. She was a digitigrade.

It looked like she stood on the front half of her foot as the heel was basically non existent. There was a slight bulge, where the ankle would be if a human were to wear very high heels. It was covered by fur, but it looked like it was always off the ground as there were no pad there to help soften the impact of walking. Underneath that part was a large wad of cloth, that allowed her to walk somewhat like a human without putting too much stress on her feet.

There were only four toes on the front, larger than a humans with a large claw sticking out that looked incredibly sharp. The joints on her toes were quite large but did not look like they were causing her any pain. The four toes formed the front with one further up the inside of her foot. This one looked like it never touched the ground, small and vestigial but still with a claw. Her big toe, probably.

Underneath the front of her foot there were pads, just like she had on her hands, small ones underneath the toes and a large one behind those which formed the base of her foot. It had seen quite a bit of action of the years, thicker and more rough than the ones on her hand. It covered what would have been half a human foot, larger to help distribute the weight. Judging by the way she walked normally she was putting quite a bit of stress on her feet to appear more human like, despite the cloth wad to help distribute the weight.

On the knuckles of her toes were strange orange marks, in a rough four pointed star. The orange against her aqua fur looked odd, but it appeared to be a natural color rather than a dye.

He held the end of her foot. She recoiled her toes before letting them relax. The fur was unbelievably soft to the touch, short and somehow delicate to the touch. Out of curiosity he tried to move one of her toes, it moved just like a human toe. Like most things about her, he found it quite striking. Odd, but not ugly or revolting.

A quick glance up and he saw that her face was beet red, an odd look of shame and embarrassment. It looked like she was bracing herself for Anton to yell out in disgust, but he looked at it with more curiosity than anything else.

“You...You don't think it's weird?” she asked, lowering her hood to try and shield her face.

“I can't say that I don't think it's weird.” Anton replied truthfully, “But, you've had these feet this whole time. It doesn't change a thing for me.”

There was a hint of relief on her face, but it was still drenched embarrassment.

“You'll probably want to be ready for this next bit.” Anton said, “There's a bit of cloth still stuck inside and it'll definitely hurt to take it out.”

Kal nodded and barred her teeth in readiness. With one hand he held her foot above the wound and the other grasped the tooth as best he could, using a bit of the cloth to provide extra grip. He glanced up and reefed it out in one go, not telling Kal that he was about to.

She gasped in pain before letting out a load groan.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked somewhat angrily.

“Because you would have tensed up and made it much worse. Just get it over with.”

The wound was raw and now, without the plug of the tooth, blood started to flow out. Kal looked quite worried at the volume of blood leaving her.

Anton moved his hands and covered the wound.

Tethra, goddess of prayer, heal this wound and restore it to it's...natural state. May you also heal her body, healing anything that has been damaged over the years.

Half his mana flowed out, more than he had used on any single person, possibly baring Verona when she had just gotten her powers.

He removed his hand and watched the wound heal itself. The fur regrew and the blood around her wound disappeared. The blood on his hands did not so he rubbed it into the grass.

Kal looked completely bewildered by what just happened to her. She shuffled backwards and covered her body with her cloak, holding it tight with her hand. Her whole body must have changed , judging by the amount of mana it took out of him.

She looked at her foot, and then to him, in shock.

“That, that was weird. You...Your mana...”

She flexed her foot and toes. After giving a nod of approval she started to wrap her foot back up again. It took her very little time, her hands being quite skilled at redressing herself.

“Thank you Anton. I feel a bit better all over actually. A little different.” she said, massaging her shoulders and neck. “You...did that to me? It felt like there was another...force...inside of me.”

“I've healed you before, back at the training fields.”

“It wasn't this much.”

“No, it wasn’t. I asked Tethra to not only heal your foot but also some of the damage done to your body over the years, damage that you probably didn't know about. So you should be feeling better and your body should be on the way to being back to the way it should be. I'm sorry if it felt weird, I haven't had it done to me by somebody else, so I don't know what it feels like.”

She smiled, the redness having faded to virtually nothing, but it was still noticeable.

“I, um, shouldn't have tried to push you away when you wanted to help me.” she flexed her clothed foot, the blood covered quite a few layers of the cloth. “You can see why I was quite nervous about it.”

“Yeah.” Anton replied. “That would make someone who hates Beast-kin lash out.”

“But you don't?”

Anton shrugged, giving her foot a last pat before Kal tucked it under her body.

“Like I said with the Orcs, you haven't done anything wrong to me so I don't have a reason to hate you. Or any other Beast-kin or half breed Beast-kin. I'll let their actions speak for themselves.”

“You are a weird one.”

Kal chuckled, Anton too. She almost smiled but looked over to the wolves. Mentioning the Orcs brought up the question that they had no time to answer.

“You think they're dead?” she asked, looking over at the Alpha wolf corpse.

They both stood up and walked over. Kal kept her cloak wrapped tight around her.

“You feeling cold?” Anton asked. The air was a little cool now that it was probably an hour or so before dawn. Having her body healed may have increased her sensitivity to the cold.

She shook her head.

“Not really, I just feel a little different. I can breath a little easier thanks to you and a few other things feel a bit odd. I always feel safer in my cloak when I'm nervous.”

There was a tinge of red to her face but she seemed to be happy.

She knelt down by the wolf's head, pulled out her knife and started to prod about its teeth. Between two teeth near the back were a few strands of black hair.

She pulled them free and gave them to Anton. They were quite long, long enough to be human. Long enough to belong to the Orcs.

“It doesn't look good for Lazgar and his clan now.” Anton sighed.

Kal looked quite crestfallen herself. While they were not human, they had treated her with the same respect that they had given Anton. Probably an extreme rarity for her.

“They could have gotten away.” she replied, trying to raise his hopes, “There's not that much blood, its smell travels quite far. I can't tell how many were attacked, it might have been only one or two before they were chased off.”

“There's nothing that we can do either way. They said that they were heading to the Red Spines, about thirty to forty days away from when we left. It would be nearly impossible to find them in the forest. Do you know where these Red Spines are?”

Kal shook her head.

“No. This is the furthest south I've ever been. And I've never heard of the place, though I don't think that many humans or Beast-kin would want to head to Orc territory uninvited or without good reason.”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before saying anything. It looked like she was about to say sorry and remembered what he had said before.

“This Alpha wolf took quite a few hits before dying,” Anton began, “There was a large Thumper that Verona and I disturbed when we were picking healing herbs. It took quite a few hits before dying too. We pulled its flesh apart, near a wound, and we found this strange purple flesh layered throughout it. It's fragile but it seems to stop my magic, at least until it gets worn away or there's too much magic, so it's not perfect. Here...”

Anton formed a flame in his hand and pushed it towards an exposed section. The small flame started to wobble and flicker, he had to used more mana to keep it active, not that Kal would know that. As he pulled back the flame stabilized and burned steadily. He withdrew the flame and looked to Kal. She frowned and poked at the purple flesh with her knife.

“I've never seen something like this. Never heard of something like this. Maybe nobody with magic tried before, they just think that it's the way it is, too uptight to try. Or they do but don't see the need to share it. I don't know any mages other than you and Verona.”

“You mentioned that you saw mages in your...travels.” Anton started, standing up along with Kal. There would be time later to harvest some of the magic resistant flesh from some large Thumpers back at Atros. “What were they like?”

Kal looked into the forest, her eyes lost focus as she delved into a deep memory.

“The few that I saw wore these really bright and colorful robes, incredibly well made and always looked new and clean. The color showed what type of magic they could control; red for fire and blue for water, that sort of thing. There was one that I saw that was silver...or iron, in color. I don't know what that one could control.”

Kal looked him hard in the eyes.

“But all of them, with no exceptions, were arrogant. They looked down on everyone and everything that wasn't a mage, even the ones that could barely conjure up a flame. I was kind of worried that you would be the same.”

Anton walked back to one of the carts and sat upon it, Kal sitting next to him.

“They might not have been arrogant all the time. Is using magic is a truly rare thing?”

Kal nodded.

“They might have be given everything and had special privileges, getting whatever they wanted in the hopes that they would get stronger and help whomever tries to bribe them. It could warp their sense of worth. Making them seem like they are the most important and special person in the world. It's possible I suppose.”

Kal did not disagree.

“I think that's what Duchess Belinda might have been suffering from, maybe. Apparently she can use fire magic. She treated us well, but we did have to show that we were serious. I showed off some magic to show that we weren't some hicks, plus we had quite a bit of money.”

“She was that bad?”

“I don't think so. She was extorting everything from the people of Maxill though. I told her that happy workers are busy workers, and people with money will spend that to make even more money. She might not respect them, she doesn't have to, only needs to know that she could make even more money that way.”

Anton looked towards the west.

“I wonder if she actually listened.”

------------

Hello,

Long time, but I started writing this and it kind of got carried away. So, the next two chapters are basically done but as it became so large it kind of got daunting and i had to break it up, otherwise it would be about 20,000 words. Way too long for me to actually edit and look over again.

Anyway, this chap.

Brought back the purple flesh for the big creatures. It was my way of explaining how large creatures could be immune to magic, they're be more about those creatures later on, and I'm thinking about having a type that is physical resistance rather than magical.

I forgot that, last chapter, that i forgot to make the poison immunity temporary. Thinking about it, I'm going to keep it and use it to explore the prayer power.

Kal's foot is something i had to look up for the name. Basically like a dog or cats foot. So you can see why she would definitely want to keep that hidden.

Also with the other types of mages, they are from the empire to the West of Atros, so they won't be seen for a little while. As for the bit about them becoming arrogant, that's my understanding of how they could become entitled little shits.

I'm also working on a map for the Shattered Kingdoms, changing the name, and the world at large. It'll basically be a paint map, but it'll be good enough to show the general location of things.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 032 - Maxill Reborn

Chapter 032:

It was early in the morning when they arrived at the edge of the forest that gave way to Maxill. It was clear to him, and the former bondsmen, that things had changed and apparently for the better. There were tree stumps everywhere, recently cut.

The wall, that was beginning to rot with chunks missing, had been mostly restored. Rudimentary repairs had been superseded by completely new sections. There were more guards on top of the four meter tall wall, their green and white armor now bright and crisp in the early sunlight. About twenty meters away from the wall was freshly tilled soil with a wheat-like crop that looked ready to be harvested.

Anton had forgotten about the Earth mana flowing through the ground that allowed plants and monsters to grow incredibly fast, food was probably not the limiting factor for civilized creatures and their kingdoms and empires. Death was, in whatever form it took; monster, beast, or their fellow man.

Either side of the main gate were two large piles of freshly cut logs, past them looked to be some workshop shacks. There were a few people there working, stripping the bark off the logs while other cut the pieces of wood to work them into building material. The sound of metal axes striking the wood resounded in the air.

“W...What?” Raston could barely hold in his surprise.

"It's only been a month.

Anton was surprised too, Duchess Belinda may have actually listened to his words. Though it seemed like there was more than just one persons directive at work. Perhaps her butler had a hand in this change.

The faces of the people seemed to be quite happy, considering they were working very hard. Their faces were already glistening from the sweat, but they continued to work. It would be hard to keep up a smile like that if they were being beaten and oppressed like they were before.

Kal, and the other Atros Villagers, did not know what Maxill looked like before. Dana brought her horse closer and looked at Anton.

“Seems like this place is doing quite well. Guess some of your fears did not come to pass.” Dana looked at Raston, who smiled back. He saw Anton glance at him, his face changing to a more professional and stern appearance.

Raston finally let out a smile.

“They don't look to be unhappy, from here at least.”

Anton turned to Kal, she was rummaging through her coat and brought out a thin piece of cloth. It looked like it was the one that she wore when she first arrived at Atros.

“Good thinking Kal.” Anton said, Kal smiling as she pulled down her hood.

“Could you help me? It'll be quicker if I have someone help me.”

She did seem to be having trouble doing it up. He had her turn so her back faced him and helped her  tie it up, using two of the ends. It looked a bit like a bandanna with her hood down. While he tied it up he got a feel of her hair. It was rough but he felt it was because she had not looked after it in decades. If she were to start caring for it, it would look quite beautiful. Soft and delicate.

Kal gave her face cloth a quick pull to make sure it would not come loose and pulled up her hood. The cloth wrap really only covered her face, leaving her ears free underneath her hood. She murmured a 'thank you' and turned to him. He could not see if she was happy but she seemed to be.

With Kal having covered her face they continued forward.

As they fully emerged from the forest, a light metal gong came from the wall. It appeared they were now taking decent precautions with their security.

Some of the bondsmen saw Raston and the other freed bondsmen. They looked in complete disbelief before finally recognizing him. Some downed their tools and jogged to the cart.

“Raston!” one of the male bondsmen exclaimed, “By the Holy Father, you're alive. And back.”

He and the others seemed quite confused.

Raston, and the other freed bondsmen, chuckled.

“Did you think I would be gone forever?” Raston said somewhat slyly. Anton looked at him, loosing a bit of his confidence.

“I thought you'd be dead.” A female bondsmen said.

“I thought I might be too. But, we've got a good life over in Atros.”

“Well, after you left, things really changed. This are getting a little better here to, day by day.” the woman replied.

“That's fantastic news. We've got to head in, but I think I'll get the chance to catch up in a bit.” He looked to Anton who nodded. “I can't wait to hear how it's all changed.”

The male bondsmen grunted something loudly, sounding quite happy, and they got back to work, a hint of extra happiness on their faces.

Anton looked forward and saw the guards waiting at the gate. Before they had looked loathed to even move from their resting position on the gate. Now they had clean weapons and armor. It was clearly not brand new but looked like they were starting to take care of their equipment.

He recognized the one that had extorted money from him, the man also recognizing Anton straight away. The man said something to the other three guards and moved towards them.

Dana brought the convoy to a halt once the guards reached the first cart.

“Hello again...Anton, I believe. To be honest, most of us thought that you would not return.”

He and the others looked at the carts.

“And there's some people that aren't from Maxill I see. Where's that silver haired girl that was with you last time? Is that her?”

“No,” Anton replied, hoping the guards would not look too closely at her, “Not this time. And what about yourselves? You seem to be doing much better now.”

The guardsman smiled, “We are. We've been given much better equipment, and the people are working much harder as well. Couple of days after you left things started to change for the better.”

That's interesting. Though I doubt that I was the only source that tried to get her to change. She doesn't seem like someone who listen to a traveling mage. Perhaps her butler Alfred was always trying to get her to change, and I was just a tiny push. We'll see in a bit.

“That's very good to know. Can we head in? We have quite a few things to get done today.”

The guardsmen nodded and waved to the guards on top of the gate. A few seconds later the gate rumbled open, even that appeared to be in a early state of repair.

At least he didn't try to take money from us. Maybe they're being paid a decent wage now.

None of the guards searched their vehicles, nor made any movement to do so. They must have trusted him to be a good and honest traveler.

The guards moved back to their post as they allowed them through.

Anton leant towards Kal.

“Good thing you remembered to cover your face. Sorry I forgot, I've gotten used to seeing your eyes that I didn't think about it.”

“Force of habit.” Kal replied, somewhat happy, “I'm glad that I haven't had to wear it for quite some time.”

Anton smiled, he thought that Kal was but he could not be sure.

Inside it looked completely different. The dilapidated buildings had fresh pieces of timber and the holes in the roves had been covered with whatever could be found. Holes in the roads had been filled in with rocks and dirt and the sparse vegetation looked like it was actually being maintained.

But it was the change in the people that most surprised him. No longer were they beggars, sunken and hollow eyes that looked like they would attack if they thought that they had something to steal. Waiting for something to happen rather than trying to make change.

It was still there but nowhere near as bad. While some still sat about, the vast majority were moving about, working in teams to carry large pieces of wood for construction, others carrying baskets and pulling carts full of, what looked like, grain and fruits.

It looked to be a city on the return to bustling activity. Such a shocking transformation.

Why did the Duchess not want this? Maybe when she inherited it, it was going very well, but she started asking more and more in tax for her rather lavish lifestyle for a small town. Asking for more and getting less each time, tricking her into an increasing spiral of demands where she did not realize that it was her fault the people were making less money and not theirs, not becoming lazy and worthy of her scorn.

Maybe. Maybe not.

She may be more obstinate or uncaring underneath a facade, but her desire to live in the capital was not. Maybe that's what's spurred this recent activity. I'm sure she'll be able to explain this change.

I guess this is what Maxill is capable of when everyone starts working.

“Where are we going?” Dana asked, snapping Anton out his mental wandering.

“At the second crossroads, take a right. We're looking for a building with a fish and a leaf on a sign out the front.”

Anton turned to the guards, watching them enter the city before starting to close the gate.

“Is Lester still where he was before?” he asked back to the guardsmen.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He's doing very well now. He'll be glad to see you guys.”

The guardsmen raised a short sword hanging off his waist.

“Got this from him. Good price for what it is. He's got a lot more stuff for sale now.”

The gate closed, the guardsmen remaining on the outside to keep a watch. Those on top of the gate glanced over at the Atros villagers but directed their attention outside.

“It's good to hear that Lester's doing better. Hopefully he'll be able to get us most of the gear that we need.”

As they traveled towards Lester's shop, more and more people looked to be living in a little better condition. At the second crossroads they could see towards the closed iron gate that led to the Duchess's mansion.

While outside of Maxill had undergone a transformation he could see that the inner ring, and it's richer inhabitants, looked exactly the same. Though now they looked a little less grand compared to the improving outer inhabitants. He hoped that the poor's improving situation would not make them behave stupidly, like trying to put them back in their place.

Lester's shop had improved too, seemingly have been expanded into a neighboring building for extra space. The outside, like everything else, had been repaired to some degree. Either side stood a Maxill guard, wearing the green and white colored armor of their kingdom. When they saw Anton and the villagers approach they nodded with respect. One entered the shop while the other remained at his post.

Anton and the others disembarked from the cart, Anton offering his hand to the villagers and to Kal, who this time accepted it. Like her foot, the fur underneath felt very soft. She did not say anything but he could see her hood perk up where her ears were, all from such a simple act.

The guard emerged from the shop along with Lester. He looked confused, but his face turned to pleasant surprise when he saw Anton.

“Hello Anton. How are you? It's been quite some time since I saw you. And there's a lot more of you this time.” Lester began, not giving Anton time to respond, “Please, all of you, come in. I've got a much larger selection this time.”

Lester appeared so much more confident now. Anton waved for the villagers to enter, turning to them.

“Some of you need to stay out here and keep an eye on the cart, we'll get you to swap shortly so you can see what's on sale.”

Three of the villagers stayed outside while everyone else entered.

The inside of Lester's shop looked far more impressive now; more lights, more display cabinets and some better jewellery on display. There was no sign of any broken glass or signs of a scuffle, the guards posted outside probably saw to that.

Anton looked at some of the jewellery cabinets as he walked past. A few items caught his eye. One was a small barrette, adorned in the center with a small four pointed star of a red metal surrounded by silver trim, one that he thought would look great on Verona. He also wanted to get something to help hold her hair together, something so that she could have shoulder length hair without it becoming a liability in battle and still look pretty. For now though he had to focus on getting resources for Atros.

The villagers started to fan out and look through the items of display.

“Don't take anything. If you see something tell me in a bit and we'll see about buying it.” Anton said.

The villages nodded, keeping their hands by their sides. Raston and Dana went over to look at some weapons while Anton walked up to the main counter, Kal right behind him.

“It's good to see you again. How are things going on your side of the forest?” Lester asked. He seemed more confident in the way he stood and smiled at the villagers looking through his selection.

“Alright.” Anton replied. “But we need a lot more supplies, and you're the only one I trust here for such a thing.”

“Well, I'm glad to have your continued patronage.” Lester said with a smile. “We've got an expanded selection now. The Duchess is leaving us alone and people are starting to come in here with money, rather than to try and steal things. It's quite a new experience for me. Still pay some high taxes but nothing like what they wanted before. By the way, I've got that powder you wanted, do you want to see it?”

“Oh, in a bit. But first we need a whole lot more of the traditional things. Crossbows, bows, bolts, arrows, armor and shields.”

“I now have quite a bit.” Lester replied, looking quite happy, “How many do you want?”

“As many as you can afford to sell.” Anton replied.

“That's quite a few, now.”

“I was hoping that was the case. Everything we do now needs to be quickened. We also need some more carts and Ix, or horses, to pull them. Can you get those as well?”

Lester nodded.

“There should be a few that I should be able to get. I'll probably be able to have it by the middle of the day. Anything else?”

“We really need some stonemason tools and books on the subject. At the moment we're building the stone wall as best we can but it's really rough. Zac is a good builder, but we'll need taller and stronger walls and buildings, and we don't have time to experiment with crafting stone.”

“I can get those.” Lester's face had a light frown. “It's not going to be cheap, all this. Books have to be written by hand, so they're very expensive.”

Right, no printing press.

His frown turned into a smile.

“Though, if you have the same amount of gold that you did last time, it shouldn't be a problem.”

“I also want some books on magic, I guessing those will be expensive too.”

Lester shook his head.

“I'm sorry. The only place that would have anything like that is in the capital. But that's almost twenty or so days travel by horse, if the weather's good and you're not attacked by bandits.”

Anton opened his mouth to speak but Lester raised his hand to stop him.

“Not even the Duchess could get one of those books to leave the capital. The royals hoard the teachings so they're the only ones with the ability to use magic and control those who can. Keeps them very powerful amongst the people.”

“That's a shame.”

“There might be some for sale in the Grataeris Empire. Their...attitude to things like magic is considerably more free than ours.”

“Pity. I was hoping to find out more about my own and Verona's blood power.”

Lester looked over to Kal, Kal remained still, though he heard her hands grip tight on her daggers.

“Either your Blood Berserker friend got a lot taller, or you have someone else with you now.”

Anton chuckled.

“Verona's back at home, making sure that nothing bad happens. This is Kal. She's...a scout, of sorts. Quiet but very tough and reliable.”

He glanced back and thought she was smiling back, not that he could tell. Kal seemed to be taking great effort to remain motionless, to not let anyone know that she was a Beast-kin.

“If you could get all those items and have them loaded onto our carts, that would be great.”

Lester smiled, clapping his hands together.

“There is now just the matter of payment.”

“Just a moment.” Anton said, spinning around and hurrying out of the shop. Kal was stunned and remained in place.

The villagers outside looked at him a little oddly until they saw that he was going for the small locked box with the money. He had some on him, enough gold coins to probably buy some of the material and items outright, but now was the best time to find out how valuable the gems that they recovered from the Yellow Goblins were worth.

He took out a green, red, blue and purple gem before locking the box and returning to the shop.

The villagers were still well behaved, keeping their hands to their sides while they chatted, like excited shoppers. Kal stood at the main counter, awaiting his return.

“We found these,” Anton began, putting the gems onto the table, “And I've been told that they are worth quite a bit of money. I'm wondering how much.”

Lester's eyes practically bulged from his face as he saw them placed infront of him. He seemed hesitant to reach out and touch them, as if they could break.

Eventually he regained his composure and picked up the green and red gems.

“These are Emerald and Ruby crystals. I...I won't ask how you managed to come by these, but each of these is worth at least twenty to thirty gold.”
Anton let out a deep breath. He was expecting them to be valuable, but something tickled at the back of his mind.

“I remember someone saying that these would go for a few silver.”

Lester chuckled.

“Maybe in a place where the prices of things were different, I don't know what they were like in the Kar Kingdom. But, I can assure you that they are easily worth that many gold coins. ”

I guess that inflation happened over the years, and it's been so long since Bertram had any need to spend money, with Atros being the only village left in the Kingdom.

“And what about these two?” Anton pointed to the blue and purple gems.

They looked nearly identical to the others, bar the difference in color.

Lester put down the Emerald and Ruby gems and picked up the other two.

“This blue gem, I think, is called Benitoite. Extremely rare and only found in the Kouris Dynasty, far, far to the west. The purple one is called Tanzanite. They mine it in the north of the Seocuria Empire.”

Kal grunted something angrily, almost growling at the mention of Seocuria. Anton turned around to look and could tell that she was furious, despite not being able to see her face.

“Where is the Seocuria Empire? Is it north of the Grataeris Empire?” Anton asked.

Lester glanced between them and nodded, he could tell that Kal was angry though he was not sure why.

“It is.” he answered.

Kal remained angry but seemed to be calming down slowly. Her breath was beginning to calm and her posture started to relax.

I guess that's where she came from. The Beast-kin were probably used as slaves to do everything, and not pleasantly. If what happened back on Earth was anything to go by, it's probably so much  worse since they look so different. We have problems with skin color. Can't imagine we would have even let them live with feet, hands, eyes and ears like Kal. And she's meant to be relatively human.

“How much are they worth?” Anton asked, trying to get the conversation in a direction where it would not keep angering Kal.

Lester seemed to understand the reasoning.

“The Benitoite would be worth about a hundred gold coins and the Tazanite is about four hundred.”

Anton was honestly stunned. There were still a few more of those gems back at Atros, and not to mention the chest full of gold coins. They were extremely rich, almost unfathomably. It was strange to think that it was all thanks to the Yellow Goblins and their hoarding of the treasures of the Kar Kingdom.

“I'm thinking that you don't have that much gold on you?” Anton asked.

Lester chuckled and shook his head.

“I'm afraid not. But, it would be easier to carry that much wealth as the gems. The Ruby should be more than enough to buy nearly all the weapons and armor that I have and that I can get a hold of.  That should be about sixty to seventy crossbows, forty bows and a hundred sets of leather armor, as well as thirty full plate steel armor. Not to mention hundreds of bolts and arrows.”

“I...You have that all in here?” Anton asked, looking around.

The building looked like it had been expanded but did not look to be that big. There were many weapons but not nearly enough on display.

“I have learned to keep quite a few things hidden, especially when the Duchess was running things like she used to. Other people, some on the inside of Maxill, will have them in storage and sell them. A bit pricey but the best I can do.” Lester replied, “They are not going to be fine pieces of armor, like the knights or royal army would use, but they'll keep you safe.”

“Take the ruby gem as a down payment for now. If it's not enough, we'll sort that out when we come to collect the goods.”

Lester nodded.

“Thank-you. I'll get my people to get them organized.”

“You have assistants now?” Anton asked.

“Only a few. I can afford to now, though they are basically doing it for a better feed and a bit of spending money.”

Anton shrugged lightly, he was not going to judge what someone did to ensure they got a good meal. There was still the pieces of jewellery that he wanted to get. He had no idea what they were worth, but he doubted they would be worth the hundreds of gold coins that the Benitoite and Tazanite were worth.

He picked them up the other gems and handed them to Kal. She glanced down and then back up at him.

“Can you put those back in the strong box and get some gold coins?” Anton asked.

Kal nodded and turned to leave. She scurried out, holding the gems close to her chest.

“Who is she?” Lester asked, sounding very curious.

“Another time, perhaps. It's a little difficult to explain here.”

Lester did not push the issue.

“Actually, there is another thing.” Anton continued, “I'm looking for some jewellery for Verona.”

“Anything in particular?”

“I saw something as I walked in.” Anton said as he moved to the jewellery glass cabinet, looking at the red and silver barrette. “I don't know much about her fashion sense, but I think that she'll like it.”

“I'll add it to the list of other purchases that your colleagues may buy.”

“Anything for keeping long hair together, so it wouldn't be a liability in a fight?” Anton asked.

“I have this.” Lester replied, bending over and getting something from underneath the display cabinet.

It looked like a piece of string made from some silver material. From the way it glistened it looked to be a metal. At both ends there was a small bead, made from a darker material. Lester wrapped it around his hand and tied it off using the small bead ends.

“Seems good,” Anton said, “I'll get that and the barrette. I think Verona will like cute in them.”

There was something else that caught his attention, it was a simple wooden brush. It was on the extreme side of the case. By the amount of dust present on and around it, it had been placed there and never been moved since. His mind drifted to Kal and the knots that were ingrained into the fur on her feet and her rough hair.

She's probably never had the need or desire to straighten out her fur, doesn't really matter how it looks when you're covered and running for your life. I seriously doubt she would buy something herself, maybe she would like this? I don't want all the beast-kin to have to cover themselves all the time, or look like they're slaves. They should be able to be proud of what they are.

“And that too.” Anton said, pointing to the brush.

Lester raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He grabbed all of the items and moved back to the main counter.

Kal was taking her time in coming back. He glanced out the door and saw that Kal was stuck in conversation with the villagers guarding the carts. By the look of her body she wanted to return to the shop but the others wanted to know if they could enter, judging by the way they kept between the shop and her.

Eventually Kal was able to tear herself away and ran back into the store. She said nothing as she made her way back and returned to Anton's side as he moved back to the main counter. She handed over a few gold coins. Hopefully they would be enough to buy any trinkets the villagers wanted.

Lester kept the items hidden as he put them into a small bag.

“I'll give these to you when you're ready to go.” Lester said with a smile.

“Thanks.” Anton replied. “I think it's time that we get something to eat while you get everything ready. If I remember correctly, it was Isobell's?, place that I went to last time. I remember it being pretty good food.”

“It was,” Lester replied, his eyes focusing at the door, “Although, it looks like you may not be able to right now.”

Lester nodded to the door.

A figure walked through the shop door, Anton noticing the subtle change in light. He turned around, seeing that Kal had already noticed and had turned side on. He hoped it was not one of the villagers.
The last thing he wanted was the cart and the wealth it contained to be left unguarded in a city that was still a long way from being safe. Lester's expression told him that it probably was not.

It was not a villager, but rather one of the thugs that had taken him to see the Duchess. Not the same one that Verona attacked in self defense.

The first time Anton had seen the thugs Lester looked quite afraid of what he, and his fellow cronies, would do to him, but now it appeared to be the other way around.

The man coughed awkwardly.

“Are you Anton?” he asked, a strange sense of fear and apprehension in his voice, especially for someone that probably struck fear into the people of Maxill. He also must have not forgotten about what Verona had done to them.

“I am,” Anton replied, “And what do you want to speak with me about?”

He emphasized 'you', knowing very well that he was a thug of Duchess Belinda, but he did not know if that had changed. For all that he knew, the thug could be seeking revenge for loosing his position and power.

The thug frowned and took a deep breath.

“Duchess Belinda has heard of your arrival and would like for you to see her when you can.”

“Just me? Or does she want all of us to come?” Anton nodded towards the villagers and Kal.

They had stopped browsing and looked at the thug, their hands resting on their weapons. Kal took a step forward and pulled out one of her daggers, holding it in a reverse grip.

The thug began to pale a little but remained resolute.

“I was told that it was to be you and Verona.”

Someone at the gate must have sent a message the moment that they saw us, before we even entered, for them to have received the message back from the Duchess.

“Well, since Verona is not with me this time, it'll just have to be me.”

He looked towards Dana and Raston.

“This leaves you two in charge until I get back. We've got a bit of spending money for stuff here but I don't want you to go nuts with it.”

Anton turned to Lester.

“Can you keep my things separate from the others, like the books and special tools?”

Lester smiled lightly and nodded.

“Of course,” he replied, leaning close so he would only have to whisper, “Thanks to you I've had got things to the best they've ever been. I'm actually starting to make some money. Also, your lady friend, Verona, seems to be very strong and so does this other person you've brought. ”

He glanced at Kal. Anton could not disagree. Getting stabbed through the foot with a broken off wolf tooth, and was more worried about what he would think at seeing her Beast-kin foot rather than the pain. She was very tough.

“Yes. Yes she is.” Anton said while he looked at Kal.

She was trying extremely hard but the sides of her hood moved upwards, her ears perking up a tiny bit. His heart ran cold for a moment, thinking that the others may have seen, but nobody appeared to have.

“Anyway, I'll be back soon.”

Anton was about to ask a few of the villagers to come with him, just in case, when Kal made an odd noise. She held out her hand, like she wanted to grab him and say something, but she still did not have the courage to say something yet.

“What's wrong?” he asked, trying to not be insensitive with his tone.

She lowered her hand and her head tilted downwards. She began muttering something, so quiet that he could only really tell she was speaking as her mouth moved the bottom of the cloth wrap.

Her head darted up to him, her body looked like she had just made her mind up and was filled with confidence.

“You should not go somewhere like that alone, in a city like this. I would like to go too.”

It was a new side to her, one where she was actively demanding to go rather than being dragged along and accepting it. She was almost puffing out her chest. But he felt like it could all evaporate in an instant if she was pushed.

The other villagers looked between the two of them, nothing really on their faces.

Kal's body started to slump, like she had spoken out of turn.

It's a pretty good idea. She'll also know roughly how much a bondsmen should be worth, thanks to her past as a slave. I hope she doesn't get too angry with me. We also can't just keep throwing money around, we'll need to use it more wisely as we don't have a real income yet.

I don't think the Duchess will try anything but with me everything should be safe. We're not friends but she should respect her business partners. Kal's doing a pretty good job of hiding her identity, any movement of her ears to be disregarded as the hood moving in the air or being overly stiff and reacting to her head moving. Everyone at the moment seems to think that she's just some oddity that I found. She should be able to keep it up.

“Sure, You can come.” Anton replied. Kal looked very happy.

He thought about it and having just Kal, a stranger when they were expecting Verona, one that wielded a bow and was completely covered, may make things difficult. He would definitely need to bring at least one more villager to seem somewhat normal.

“Dana, can you come with me as well?” Anton asked, “If it's just the two of us I think it'll raise quite a few questions. Ones that will distract from what I want to say.”

Dana looked at him in thought and nodded. He glanced over and saw that Raston looked a little jealous, like he thought that he might be trying to take her away, even though he had no intention.

“Okay, Raston, that leaves you in charge. This thing may take some time, so it'll give you guys some time to get something to eat and rest. Head over to Isobell's place, she had some good food and will appreciate the business. Just don't leave the carts alone.”

“Shouldn't I come with you, as someone who used to live here?” he asked.

“If it was like before, definitely. But now I don't think so. This change appears to be genuine. We'll play it safe and see what she's willing to offer us straight away. She's probably already heard of you and the other people arriving, and you are all alive and in good shape. If she needs convincing to get a decent number we'll come find you.”

Raston did not look terribly happy but agreed to it nonetheless. Dana turned and whispered something in his ear, his face brightening up in response.

“Just be safe in there all of you,” Raston said, waving a little goodbye. “Just...don't upset her.”

“I won't.” Anton replied. “I'll see you all in a bit.”

He lent towards Kal.

“Just don't let them know about your...kind,” he whispered to her, “We don't want anything stupid to happen.”

“...Then why bring me?”

“Information. Because you know more of the wider world than either of us. We barely know of anything outside of Atros. If they try to lie about something, you can tell us. Basically just keep quiet and tap me on the shoulder if they say something that you know is wrong. It's a bit of a gamble but I think it'll pay off. She seems like she can keep quiet as long as money is involved. You'll be fine Kal. ”

He patted her on the shoulder, Kal slowly nodded.

“Okay. I'll keep everything under control.”

If the worst happens, I think that we'll be able to just cough up some gold and that should be the end of it. She didn't really care too much about how Verona and I looked once we showed some gold.

The thug started walking out, Anton, Kal and Dana followed.

Outside there were a few more thugs, one of them was the thug that Verona injured. He moved with a little limp and did not put much weight on the leg but looked otherwise fine. They all took a breath in apprehension when they saw him.

“So, shall we go then?”

---------------------

Hello

Second released chapter, although it was written at the same time as 31.

I wanted to show how a city can change for the better once it has some good leadership. It's also been a month, or so, since they left. So it's not like it's been an overnight change. Exactly why will be revealed in the next chapter.

It's still rough living, shown by the people in the early morning sun already sweating heavily, but compared to how they used to be, living like beggars, they have good reason to be happy.

The other thing was the tight control that this Kingdom has on magic, like an elite class of people, while the Empire to the east is more liberal in that regard.

There will be a map next chapter so look forward to that.

Kal's unfortunate knowledge of how much people are 'worth' in this world will come into effect next chapter too. She's been able to keep a calm head so far and she was brave enough to head to two human cities despite not knowing what fate may await her. She's not going to flip out and show off that she's a half breed. I think it's also showing that she's becoming more proactive in regards to her future and not just being dragged around like before.

Duchess Belinda allowed Anton and Verona in, despite not surrendering their weapons and looking like peasants. She really didn't care when quite a large sum of money was plonked in her hands. Despite the unexpected change, she's not going to change that part of her. The worst she would do is ask for more money for the bondsmen, especially as she knows that Anton has gold to burn.

That's about it.

Thanks for reading.

P.S.

And no, it will not follow in the steps of the old 24 (is that my thing when something goes wrong?)

Chapter 033 - A Change of Heart

Chapter 033:

The people of the inner side of Maxill seemed to be the exact same condition and extravagance as they had before. Their buildings seemed to be a little more ornate, but the people still lounged outside doing nothing in their Victorian style clothing. They looked and giggled as they moved past but did not have the courage to continue when he looked straight at them. When he did they looked away or pretended to be discussing something else, none of it very convincing.

It dawned upon Anton that the Duchess was probably not the only source of extortion activities and oppression. These people needed to get money somehow to keep up their lavish lifestyle. They probably owned quite a number of the bondsmen themselves and were just as responsible for the oppression that was present. Potentially getting away with it by passing any blame up to the social ladder to her.

However it was not an excuse, just an interesting thought about the situation.

When they started up the gravel path towards the mansion the thugs stopped, not taking a step further. Instead they grunted something and moved back towards the inner gate. Even though there were no guardsmen to escort them they still seemed to be expected to continue. Anton was confident that nothing would happen back with Raston and the others, the Duchess knew that he was a mage and of apparently some skill and power.

As they continued Kal started to look a little distressed under her cloak and cloth wrappings. She moved with less confidence and her hands started to fidget. He moved closer so he could whisper.

“Everything alright?” he asked, Dana seemed to have noticed as well and looked over concerned.

The mansion was very close. Some maids had started to file out and form a row either side of the main entrance, standing on the lowest step of the marble stairs. They were not looking in their direction, probably a part of their training. Anton took the opportunity to slow down to Kal's speed.

“This mansion,” she began, “It reminds me of a very, very bad place. I wasn't expecting to go into something like that again. I...I haven't told you, but I guess that you figured out that I was a slave?”

Anton nodded.

“I worked every day in a building like that. I was beaten a lot too, even when I had done nothing wrong. And worse.”

She took a deep breath.

“Even though it's been nearly twenty winters since I've been there, I still see...and feel it happening again.”

She folded her arms and began to scratch at her elbows.

“If you don't want to keep going, you don't have to. We'll be going inside-” Anton started.

Kal grunted and cut him off.

“I know it's not the same place....I'm still going in. I'll do my best to keep calm.”

“We'll be right there with you. Just take some deep breaths and leave all the talking to me. Just try and keep calm. You're a tough girl and you'll be fine.”

He did not know if it was the right thing to say, and it probably was not, but she seemed to appreciate it. She took a deep breath and started walking faster again. She was not going to let this beat her back down.

Dana did not look worried, but rather in awe of the splendor of the mansion. Living in Atros all her life she would had never seen anything like it. She looked like she was seeing a city for the first time. In a sense she was.

She saw him looking and reigned in her gawking, mumbling something like an apology underneath her breath. In fact she looked a little embarrassed. Anton said nothing, receiving a smile in return.

As they neared the entrance, just as they passed the last of the hedgerows, Alfred, the Duchess's loyal butler, emerged.

Did you time that? I think you may have.

Kal began to tense up once again. Dana looked rather odd at him. The immaculately maintained butlers uniform was completely alien to her, but not to Kal.

“Do you know him?” he asked.

“Nope.” came Kal's quick reply.

So someone that looks like him, or at least had the attire of a butler, beat you or was involved? I hope you can hold it together.

Kal quickly recovered and resumed her normal posture.

“Hello Alfred.” Anton said as they reached the base of the marble stairs.

“Hello Anton,” Alfred replied, a frown forming on his elderly face. “I do not see Verona with you.”

“She's not here this time,” Anton answered, “In her place I have brought my friends, Kal and Dana.”

Alfred glanced at Kal, clear on his face that he did not know what to make of her. She seemed like she was holding under his gaze, but he could feel it starting to crack. His attention merely flickered over to Dana as it rested back on Kal.

“Your...friend, Kal, is not exactly...dressed for this meeting.”

“Neither were myself and Verona the first time, but you saw us all the same.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow but gave no further objection.

“Very well.” he said, straightening himself and waving towards the other maids who started to move inside. “The Duchess is currently waiting in the gardens, accessible through the mansion. If you would like to follow me.”

It was more of an order than a request, one that Anton would have followed regardless. Taking one final look at Kal, who seemed to be still okay, they headed into the mansion.

The inside was even more elaborately decorated than before. As before the maids scurried about, this time taking an occasional glance at them before continuing on with their work. There were even more soldiers this time, in full metal plate green and white armor, standing infront of all the doors. He felt like they were looking at him underneath their covered visors but they kept their heads forward.

Dana even let out a stifled laugh at seeing all the wealth on display. She ran her shoes over the white marble floor, as if to absorb some of its wealth.

Kal stopped walking beside him and moved right behind him. He could feel her breath she was so close. She was breathing so hard that it was coming through her face cloth, tiny flecks of moisture darkening the cloth around her mouth.

Four armed guards moved behind them as Alfred led them behind the fountain and through a large double door. It was obscured by the fountain the first time he had been here. He wondered how many doors and rooms the mansion held, the thought of whether or not it even extended underground crossed his mind.

He felt a tug on his shirt, turning to find that Kal was clutching at the bottom of his shirt for dear life. She was close enough that the guards behind could not see her holding on. Dana had noticed and made sure she blocked as much as she could, remaining quiet.

They entered the corridor and Kal's breathing became increasingly erratic. He turned back and saw tiny marks over her mouth, wet from breathing so hard. On the side of the corridor there was an open door, a maid emerged from the side carrying some sort of folded cloth. Kal nearly jumped at the sight but kept her calm, muttering 'you can do this' underneath her breath.

Thirty meters later they arrived at another set of doors. These were made of glass and showed a lush and vibrant garden outside, hidden by the front and the sides of the mansion. There were any types of small and flowering plants, types he had never seen before on Earth or even on this world. It looked quite beautiful in an odd way. In the center of the garden was a large and open white stone pavilion where he could see the back of Duchess Belinda sitting next to a table, seemingly just enjoying the outdoors.

Alfred opened the door, the only sound coming from the gentle breeze outside rustling the leaves of the small trees and shrubs. The guards stopped at the door, as they exited and followed a marble path, immaculately maintained grass and small flowers either side. They must have presumed that there was not going to be any trouble.

Kal quickly calmed down now that she was outside of the mansion, letting go of Anton's shirt as took a few steps back.

Duchess Belinda sat in a white outdoor chair, sipping some sort of tea at a small round table with two more chairs on the other side. The chairs looked to be immaculately made from some sort of white wood weaved together. It was probably worth more than most of their village. They seemed to be set out for himself and Verona. He wondered if they would get another chair when they saw the three of them.

Alfred led them to the pavilion, two maids appeared from the sides, hidden behind the white pillars, and pulled out the chairs for them as Alfred took his position beside Duchess Belinda.

She looked a little more conservatively dressed, but not by much. It appeared that the change in Maxill had affected her as well, just slightly less.

Anton smiled as he passed the Duchess to a seat. It was returned as she continued to drink her tea, her face turning to a frown as she saw Kal. She seemed to barely notice Dana.

She did not know, hopefully, that she was a Beast-kin, only that she was expecting to see Verona. Kal did not look like she was worried that there was only two seats, standing behind Anton, while Dana shrugged and took the other chair.

Duchess Belinda turned to Alfred and motioned for him to whisper into her ear, presumably why Kal and Dana were present and not Verona. He could not hear them properly but heard Verona's and Kal's name, no mention of Dana. It was over before he could think to chant a prayer in his head.

Alfred stood upright and took up a perfect standing posture to the side of the Duchess. The two maids pushed in their chairs as they sat, bowed slightly and left. Kal looked a little uncomfortable but she remained still, keeping her hands clasped tightly infront of her so as to not give away any of her thoughts through her movements.

“It is good to see you again, Anton,” Duchess Belinda began, “And...Kal? And Dana? It is interesting to see the different sorts of people that you take company with. I don't understand the full coverings your friend Kal has, but I'm sure there's a reason.”

“It is a pleasure to see you again too,” Anton replied, deliberately avoiding bringing Kal up as a topic, “I trust things are going well in your lands?”

The Duchess smiled and nodded.

Anton continued. “Things have changed. I've been here a short time and I've already seen a rapid increase in wealth and activity in your city. When I first arrived I thought I was going to be attacked for the clothes I wore, but now I feel...more safe now.”

Duchess Belinda shuffled slightly as she placed her cup onto the saucer infront of her, the liquid appeared to be light purple in color. He realized there were none prepared, or even an empty cup, for any of them.

“You are indeed correct. Things have indeed changed, and thanks to Alfred, the better.” she replied.

Anton looked up at Alfred, who remained motionless. He turned his attention back to the Duchess.

“After your departure, I consulted with Alfred about some of the things that you suggested,” a smile graced her face, it seemed to be very warm as she took a glance back at Alfred, “I was initially only going to start with a few of your ideas, but Alfred had been talking about these things for a number of winters.”

She picked up the cup and began to sip slowly.

“So...he finally got his wish and is now running my territories. I have very little to do with it now. And it's making quite a profit too, far more than it used to. They're doing very well and becoming the envy of the southern merchant lords already.”

Anton was quite surprised.

“Forgive me for sounding rude, but why not do it before?”

Belinda looked a little awkward and a little ashamed, using the cup to hide some of her embarrassment on her face.

“I...I was not concerned with the economy. I allowed it run itself, those people on the inner ring could do what they want so long as they paid their taxes. Alfred was always telling me to take more of an interest, but I felt it got so annoying that I threatened to exile him if he mentioned it again. That was six or seven winters ago.”

She put down the cup.

“I was wrong. I've never had to say that before in my life.”

She looked up at Alfred, who smiled warmly back.

“He took it rather well. If it were me I would have chastised him. I am lucky to have him at my side.”

“I'm glad that things are working out for the both of you.” Anton said, the Duchess turning her attention back to him.

“I know that you did not come from your little fortress city to congratulate me on realizing my mistake.” she said, a smug look forming on her face.

A slight feeling of apprehension overcame him. For someone that seemed so proud and dignified to openly admit she was wrong, she still had something to play to look at him like that.

Alfred rummaged through his uniform and pulled out a sheet of paper. Anton expected her to not use such a poor quality piece of paper, it looked like it was covered in charcoal markings and had been exposed to the weather and water frequently.

He laid it down on the middle of the table. Anton's heart sunk.

On the piece of paper was a map of Atros. Nearly every major building was roughly detailed on it; the main hall, the storage barns, the smithy, crop fields and even another drawing for the stone and iron mines at the base of the mountain. It was quite a detailed map, though Anton had to shake off his admiration for the work.

He looked up at the Duchess and waited for her to respond.

“I was not going to engage in business with someone without knowing anything about them. More than what I thought you would have.”

Anton glanced at Dana, who was starting to look a little concerned.

“It seems that you have been busy,” she continued, “The scout said that when they arrived your village was under attack by a horde of Kobolds. Not exactly the creatures the creatures of teeth, fire and hatred that you spoke of.”

“No. No they are not,” Anton replied, “But we dealt with the attackers, and their camp, with no losses.”

Belinda and Alfred looked quite surprised.

“Killing them all, without a dedicated army, and not a single loss?” Alfred asked, seemingly not believing that it could be done.

“We did fight off several thousand Yellow Goblins with only a few losses, I think I may have told you that last time.”

They both looked to Dana, now looking a bit awkward for being placed on the spot.

“It...It was not that difficult as that fight.” she replied.

Belinda smiled and looked back to Anton.

“I was just curious as to what sort of stronghold you are building, that is still to be determined. The rest of the scouts report details that there is rapid construction occurring at every level of the village. Farming, mining as well. What I do know from this is that I know now you aren't a slaver, and it seems like your committed to your cause. Although I had that suspicion before about not being a slaver. For what you paid it would not be profitable to travel and sell them to Seocuria. That's one of the reasons I let you buy some of my bondsmen. I've heard that the ones you bought previously are back in the city and are looking quite well.”

She smiled and leant back into the chair. He could feel Kal getting angry at the mention of slavery, Alfred's eye twitched down to Kal's tightly gripped hand, but remained quiet.

“And that's why you've come once again?” she asked.

“Indeed.” Anton replied, “With the Kobold attack, the Yellow Goblins before that, and who knows what may come in the future, we have little choice but to accelerate our plans before the true enemy emerges. Which means more people and resources, that you can provide.”

Belinda raised a brow.

“For a reasonable price.” Anton added.

“How many people do you want this time?”

“As many as you can spare, as well as some more specialized workers. People like stonemasons, woodworkers and smiths would be appreciated.”

Belinda waved Alfred to bend down to her ear and speak, breaking a little while later.

“Alfred tells me that, in this city of eight thousand, we can safely sell three hundred good bondsmen this time.” Belinda said.

“We can also sell four smiths, and their apprentices, and three stone masons and their apprentices. We need all all of the woodworkers here to work and train others.” Alfred added, “We are dangerously low on people with their skills, perhaps next time you visit we will have enough reasonably trained in order for you to purchase.”

“I would also like to have the families, the young and elderly, of those bondsmen. As well as the families of the bondsmen I purchased previously.”

Belinda looked baffled while Alfred remained unmoving.

“I spoke to some of the bondsmen that we purchased last time, and that was one of their main concerns. They were quite concerned with how their families were doing back here, and I think that they would work better with them there. We can feed them, they would no longer be a drain on your resources, and they could continue to work in some form.”

“If you are willing to pay for them, then I don't see a problem.” Belinda said, looking to Alfred.

He nodded lightly in response.

“It's now just a matter of payment,” Belinda said, as she picked up her tea cup. “Last time I believe it was twenty silver per person. Alfred, how many additional people would that be for their families?”

“Almost another four hundred people,” Alfred replied, “That would take away quite a large portion of Maxill's population.”

“It would. It would.” Belinda mused, “Although, with the money we're making now, it might not be a problem.”

“It will have to be more than the twenty silver per person it was before.” Alfred began, “Since we are selling so many.”

“How much do you want this time?”

“Fifty gold for all of them.” Alfred said defiantly.

Twenty silver a person, roughly seven hundred people makes that fourteen thousand silver. A gold coin is worth a thousand of the silver coins. So that's fourteen gold...She's getting a really good deal out of this.

“Fifty gold?” Anton asked.

There was a shuffle behind him as Kal leaned forward and tapped him hard, and repeatedly, on the shoulder. He turned around and she was almost digging into his skin. The cloth obscured her features but he could feel her anger.

“Could you please excuse me a moment.” he said, already moving out his chair and making it clear that he would regardless of any opposition.

Belinda nodded curtly while Alfred frowned lightly at Kal. Anton walked with Kal outside the pavilion and onto the grass, far enough away that they could not be heard if they whispered.

“Are they asking to much?” Anton asked, his back to the others while Kal stood infront of him, “You could-”

She clenched her fist and punched him hard in the gut, hard enough to make him splutter. With her other hand she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close.

Christ, that hurt! Duchess Belinda and Alfred definitely saw that.

He chanted a quick healing prayer so he would not cough again.

She raised her fist to his face, and pointed an accusatory finger. Her whole body trembled in fury, fury directed at him.

“What do you think you're doing?” she demanded angrily. The cloth on her face obscured her features but he knew that she was barring her teeth at him like a wild animal.

“I thought you were going to tell me that we were getting a bad deal.”

Kal 's hand tightened into a fist to strike his face.

“You're talking about buying people...like they're slaves.”

Anton tilted his head.

“I thought...you know that Raston and the other people from Maxill are bondsmen? That we bought them from here?” he asked.

Her head jerked back in surprise.

“N-No! All I knew was that they came from here. That's all I ever heard about them.” She loosened her grip but kept it relatively tight on his chest. “They've only just started to talk to me.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” she hissed at him.

“I'm sorry, I thought you knew. We bought them from Duchess Belinda and now they live in Atros.”

“How can you talk about buying people so easily?” Her clawed hand gripped tighter, the tips of her claws dug lightly into his skin, even through the cloth wraps and his shirt. “Is that why you brought me? So you could get a good price for slaves? Even though you knew...”

He got the feeling that if he said yes, even jokingly, she would tear out his throat. Slavery, and everything to do with it, was a serious trigger for her rage.

Did I actually tell you that Raston and the others were bondsmen? I don't think I did, and I don't think anyone else did either.

“Kal,” Anton began, taking her hand and prying it loose, “The people that we are buying will end up like Raston. Free people, that live and work in Atros. I didn't tell them on the way to Atros that they would be, but when we reached the gate I told them that they were free. They could choose to live and work in Atros, and help us fight back what's coming for all of us.”

“That seems rather...manipulative.” she mused, still angry, “Bringing them through that forest and then telling them that they actually have a choice of where they could live.”

“Well...”

He could not argue with that point.

“I suppose it is.” Anton replied. “But we need everyone we can get. They were living pretty terribly before, and you've seen how we treat them in Atros. What you see now is nothing compared to how they used to live.”

Kal grunted something.

“I'm sorry that I did not check that you knew. When you said that you were a slave I should have just stopped you at the mansion's entrance. Anyway, while I think that slavery, or bondsmen or whatever this current system they have here, is terrible, this is what we have to work with. We cannot just charge in and 'free' them all without serious repercussion.”

She lowered her head, Anton patted it. Her hair was soft underneath her hood.

“One day, when Atros is stronger, I think we'll head north through the Grataeris Empire and reach the Seocuria Empire. If the rest of the Beast-kin there are slaves and they can be bought we'll do just that. If we can, I would see them all freed and living in Atros. I would like to see that.”

Kal's head jerked up and she grabbed his shirt again. Not out of fear, but of desperation.

“You mean that?” she asked, “Many of them do not look anything like a human. Very few of them do.”

There was almost a whimper in her voice. “Would you set them free too?”

“Yes.” Anton replied flatly.

Kal looked up at him, taking a deep breath. She tapped him hard on the chest.

“I will hold you to what you said. It was one of the things Tethra told me I would find in Atros. If you do...actually keep your promise....I will follow you to the depths of hell.”

Such a profession of loyalty was totally unexpected. He felt his face heat up in a strange mixture of happiness, that she would be willing to go that far, and embarrassment, as she had actually said it aloud.

He smiled and was sure Kal was as well.

It had been quite a bit of time since they left the pavilion. Anton glanced back.

Belinda was continuing to drink her tea while pointedly not looking at them. Dana was looking around the garden, enjoying the bright and colorful scenery. Alfred, on the other hand, was watching them intently. Anton got the feeling that there was quite a bit going on in that head of his as he watched and studied their every movement.

We've been here far too long, and they're going to be very suspicious as Kal hit me. We'd better get back soon.

“So, Kal. We need as many people as we can.” he said in a warm tone, trying to get over his previous flush of embarrassment. “I know this will be hard to talk about, but how much would someone like Raston go for in Seocuria?”

Kal clenched her fists as she took a deep breath.

“'kay. Some like Raston, a human male in healthy condition, one that can work....about twenty to thirty silver coins.”

That's about what Belinda asked for the first lot of Bondsmen. They were asking for a very good deal for them.

“What about the others, children and the elderly?”

Kal shuffled a little.

“Elderly, ones like Bertram and Sybil, would have been killed long ago.” She seemed quite sure of that. “But if someone really wanted them, about five or so silver each. They require food and care, so it's easier just to have younger ones. Children....”

She gripped her elbows hard.

“It depends what they want to do with them....”

He easily guessed what that meant.

“But if it was just for working, should be about ten to fifteen silver. Beast-kin are less, though.”

“That's...good to know.”

“They're asking far too much.” Kal said dryly.

“I don't mind having to pay a bit more than necessary right now, but we need to bring it down. We'll see about bringing it down to about thirty if we can.”

Anton glanced back to the pavilion.

“Guess we should head back.” He turned back to Kal. “And I meant what I said about Seocuria. It will happen, though I can't say when.”

Kal nodded and started moving towards the pavilion, Anton following.

When they retook their seats, Belinda and Alfred were looking at them quite dubiously.

“Was that a...lover's quarrel?” Belinda asked, possibly to shake his line of thought.

“No.” Anton replied flatly. “My friend says that fifty gold is an extremely high price for seven hundred hundred people. If my mathematics is correct, it should be only fourteen gold for the regular bondsmen and, if the same rate is applied to their families. I understand that the ones with specialized skills, like smiths and stonemasons cost more, but that would still be quite a bit less than what you're asking for.”

Belinda frowned and almost let out a chuckle, Alfred seemed unmoved until Anton saw something on his face. He was not sure what it was. It was gone in an instant, but it looked like it was the tiniest hint of respect.

“With that in mind, I think that a more reasonable price would be twenty five gold.” Anton said, leaning back in his chair.

He did not know much about haggling, but he did know that he should not start at his final price. If he worked it right he may be able to bring it down to his goal.

Alfred leant down to Belinda and whispered something in her ear. She glanced up and nodded.

“Forty five.”

“Twenty five.”

“Thirty.” Belinda said with almost a sigh.

“Thirty gold coins it is.” Anton agreed.

Belinda and Alfred looked on flatly, but nodded in agreement. It was the number they were expecting to arrive at.

Anton did not have that much on him but there was enough in their cart. He realized how cheap human life was considered in this Kingdom, compared to the equipment he had just bought. If it was this cheap out near the border of the kingdom, how much would life be worth in the, presumably densely and overpopulated, capital and larger cities. Not to mention how cheap life in the Seocuria Empire was compared to here. Especially the poor Beast-kin.

“I do not have that much money on me right now, but I do have enough back with the others.” Anton explained.

“That's fine.” Belinda replied, “Alfred, can you write up a bill of sale for them and get the bondsmen and their families ready by the east gate. Do you have enough soldiers to get them back safely?”

“We have enough, and we're getting more weapons and armor so it shouldn't be a problem.”

“That's good to hear.” Belinda said, she glanced down at her tea cup. Her face jolted back in surprise.

“I just realized that I have been a awful host, I have not gotten you three anything to drink while I have just been sitting here.”

I doubt you are just realizing, but you might be.

“I will get the servants to prepare some while I write the bill of sale.” Alfred said as he started to walk away back to the mansion.

He waved his hand. A maid appeared out of nowhere and silently ran towards him, keeping her head slightly down. Something was whispered into her ear and she scurried off into the mansion, followed by Alfred. He re-emerged a few seconds later with a  roll of paper and a quill to write with.

Alfred laid down the paper to the side of the Duchess and began writing. There were blank sections detailing names, signatures and if payment had been received. He had no idea if this was a very common thing to happen in their kingdom.

There was a section at the bottom that Alfred left blank when he was done. It was probably the final section that would be signed off when they received payment.

A maid emerged carrying a large white tea pot and three empty tea cups. She placed them in front of them and filled them with the purple liquid.

Anton chanted a quick prayer in his head to make him immune to poisons for the next hour, repeating the chant as he touched Dana and Kal. They looked a little surprised at the sensation of foreign mana entering their body but held their composure.

He, on the other hand, felt something odd. It was like the mana bounced off of him, not that that had  happened before.

I've used healing recently and there hasn't been a problem. Wait, I used a prayer to make myself immune to poison when Kal prepared that mushroom soup. And I didn't set a time when it was meant to expire. Could that be it?

Internally, he chanted a prayer to get rid of the poison immunity, just to make sure it was that.

This time the prayer worked, judging by the fact it used mana.

I guess that I can have one of those permanent things just running in the background. I didn't notice it using any magic, maybe it doesn't or it uses so little that I didn't realize.

When we get back to Atros I'll experiment a bit more.

He chanted the same prayer that he used for Dana and Kal. It seemed to work this time.

“It would be rude of me to send you away the moment we have dealt with this purchase.” Belinda said, motioning for them to drink the tea. “You mentioned that you need to do things much more quickly. Are the monsters you speak of close to emerging?”

“I would like to know how much more time I had, but I do not know when they will attack yet.”

Belinda and Alfred looked a little disappointed.

The news about the Orcs and the Deweth Clans working together is something that would get their attention. I doubt it would be well circulated news, especially as the Orcs civil war has just been concluded.

“While I do not know when they will arrive, there are matters that that will affect you in the immediate future.” Anton began. Belinda and Alfred perked up.

He took a sip of the tea, rather fruity in its flavor, and continued.

“On the journey we met a group of travelers on the road.”

“The road through the Accursed Forest?” Alfred asked, “Nobody has come through Maxill to head in that direction. ”

I guess that's it's name.

“I never said they were heading that way,” Anton countered, “They were heading south.”

Belinda held her gaze while Alfred frowned.

“They were in a bad way, but they told me of some very recent political changes to the north. Particularly to do with a group calling themselves the Deweth Clans.”

The mention of the clans made them both frown. Alfred grunted something but waited for Anton to continue.

“They told me that they are a very violent group of people that are at war with just about everyone that surrounds them.”

Belinda nodded.

“The clans are a constant threat our kingdom.” she began to explain, “They try every spring to attack our northern territories, beyond my personal control.”

Alfred chimed in.

“Over the hundreds of winters these attacks have persisted, many forts have been constructed along their approach. They have not breached the outermost forts in over ten winters. It is commendable that those barbarians try with such regularity and enthusiasm.”

“Before I continue, have they attacked this spring?”

Belinda looked up to Alfred who shook his head.

“Actually, no. They have been quite late.”

“This might explain why they're quiet.”

Anton placed down the cup of tea. Dana had taken a sip and looked like she enjoyed it, Kal made no move as it could reveal her Beast-kin heritage.

“Orcs.” Anton added.

Belinda looked confused.

“There was a civil war raging between the Orc clans. Well, there was. And now its over. The new faction, called the Wrath of Doom, has thrown itself in with the Deweth Clans. From what I understand this Orc faction owe the Deweth Clans a significant debt and are going to have to follow their orders for quite some time. I suspect that they need the Deweth Clans to keep them in line.”

“How...How many Orcs?” Alfred asked, his face had turned a lighter shade of white and his right hand began to twitch. He seemed not to care about who the travelers were, telling him they were Orcs may have sent them on an unproductive tangent.

“I'm not sure.” Anton replied truthfully. “But quite a few. At their peak they had almost a million warriors. I doubt it's that many now after the civil war and the Deweth Clans involvement.”

Anton shifted and straightened out his legs. “They said the war was brutal. If I had to guess, it would be over a hundred thousand. Maybe two hundred. Maybe more, maybe less. I really don't know. It depends on how brutal the war was, they didn't tell me. They did not seem to know the numbers of surviving or fighting ready Orcs.”

Alfred looked like he was about to faint. Belinda looked concerned at him as well.

“How many Orcs have you had to fight?” she asked him.

“Many, my lady. I never wish to do so again.” He looked at Anton. “They wield their weapons with such brutal strength and they do not stumble even when half of their body has been hacked to pieces. No real skill, but they don't need it. Terrifying opponents. But they were never the sort to ally without great reason.”

“The current leader poisoned his predecessor and took the leadership. He had to ally with the Deweth Clans or he would have been killed.” Anton added.

“This is troubling, to say the least.” Alfred rested his hand on his chin, his confidence beginning to return.

“Would this new army be enough to break through the northern fortresses?” Belinda asked.

Why go through when you could go around?

Alfred shook his head.

“Even with that many more forces, they could take a few. But the fortresses are designed to have large open areas between them. The Knight Orders in that region are very strong. They would be cut down by armored cavalry before they could get through into the unprotected regions.”

Like the Maginot Line. Just go around.

If the Orcs held the mountain territory to the north of Atros, and used to be hostile to the Deweth Clans, it would have forced them through the same region. To where the fortresses were built. But now with all the Black Fist clans either dead or fleeing or subdued, a new pathway has just opened up.

“What's stopping the Deweth Clans from attacking through the south now, or the north of those forts?” Anton asked.

They both looked at him in surprise.

“This is just speculation, but the Orc territories are now friendly to the Deweth Clans and will allow them passage. If I were them, I would attack somewhere you were not expecting. Heading through the forest and behind the fortresses would be a good idea. Right through a soft target, like Maxill. And the rest of your cities.”

Alfred opened his mouth to speak but paused and headed back into the mansion. Belinda glanced at him before looking back towards Anton. There was an odd look of confusion on her face but she shrugged lightly and returned to drinking her tea.

Almost a minute passed before Alfred emerged. In his hands was a large scroll of paper.

He politely moved the cups of tea off the table, snapping his fingers to which a maid appeared and took them away.

As he rolled out the piece of paper it became clear that it was a map. A map of the entire Qaiviel Kingdom and beyond.

(Map at the bottom of the chapter along with an explanation.)

The map was almost certainly not made to scale, but showed most of the cities.

He could see the small mark that was Maxill, it having been underlined for easy reference. There were many marks for cities to the west, most of them unnamed on the map.

His attention was brought to the north of the Qaiviel Kingdom, where there were many small squares near the border of many triangles showing a mountain range. That area was labelled as the Deweth Clans.

Alfred studied the map, his face contorting into a frown. His finger traced the mountain ranges north of Atros. There was a slight change in color over the mountain that did not seem to correspond to any change in the type of mountain shown.

“The darker areas are the territory once controlled by the Black Fist.” Alfred explained. “As you can see, it covers most of the southern section of the mountains. That's probably why you weren't attacked by the Deweth Clans.”

His finger tapped on the small word that said 'Atros'. Compared to some of the other cities marked in the former Kar Kingdom it really did look like it was just a tiny village.

“If they now have control of the Orc territories there is no need for them to be funneled through to the fortresses.”

Alfred stood back up and looked at Belinda.

“It is possible for them to attack through this area now. While there is no way to tell if they will, I believe that it would be a good idea to at least prepare. Get word out to the other cities and Knight Orders and tell them of what may be coming for them.”

Belinda nodded, liking the idea.

“At the very least it will help suppress bandit activity.” Alfred added.

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Belinda said. “Can you get those messages sent? I think time will be of the essence.”

“As soon as we are done with the sale of the bondsmen.”

“Can we afford to sell them now?” Belinda asked.

That was something Anton had not thought about.

“We can, my lady. The money that we will receive will pay for a large increase in our armed forces, production and our overall economy. Far more than they would be able to provide in the short term.”

Belinda seemed to agree.

“They were also the ones to alert us of this changing situation. While it will take some time to validate, if it is true, we may hurt relations with someone who voluntarily gave such important information.”

With that, Belinda smiled and nodded.

“Anton, thank you for the information. If it is true it will be troubling, but now we can take actions to fight this.”

I don't know what you could possibly do against several thousand Orcs, let alone tens or hundreds of thousands backed up by who knows how many clansmen. I guess knowing is better than nothing. You might be able to slow them down at least.

“Alfred, once you have received payment, get the guards to organize the bondsmen. Once they have been seen to I need to discuss with you better ways to protect this city and my territory.”

Alfred bowed his head politely, rolled up the map and bill of sale.

Belinda stood up, Anton and Dana doing the same.

“I hope that when we meet next things will be going much better. For all of us.” Belinda said with a smile.

Anton smiled and bowed slightly, Dana and Kal doing the same.

“See you next time, Duchess Belinda.” Anton said.

Belinda nodded and returned to looking at the map.

Alfred led them out of the gardens and back into the mansion. Belinda leant back into her seat with a serious expression on her face, she was taking his words seriously. He just hoped that he was wrong.

---[]---

They were escorted by the guards out of the mansion. When they started walking down the marble stair case to the gravel path outside, Alfred stopped as so did the guards.

“Forgive me, I still require some of the additional pieces of documentation.” he explained.

Anton looked at the signed bill of sale in his hand.

“This is only part of the requirements for such a large purchase. If you will wait here a moment I will get the remaining pieces.”

Alfred did not wait for a response and turned back towards the mansion. The guards filed out and stood at attention either side of the main doors.

Anton continued down to the gravel pathway.

As his feet touched the pathway, Kal moved infront of him and placed her hand on his chest. For a moment he thought she was going to punch him again, but she pulled back and grasped her medallion tightly.

“I...I'm sorry. About before.” Kal said with a hint of a sniffle, “I tried my best to keep calm but when you started to talk about buying people so casually, I...”

“It's fine.” Anton replied, “But you did very well, keeping your head. Mostly. Considering what horrors of slavery you've seen, ones that I will never understand. I'm not going to put you in that sort of situation again.”
He rubbed her head underneath her hood. She let out a cute whimper as her ears perked up underneath her hood.

“When I first called you over I was just going to ask what you were doing...Then you asked if it was a good price, I...saw you like a slave master. Someone that could buy and sell people like they were nothing. Seeing that...all my feelings came out.” Kal further explained. “I'm sorry I grabbed you, and hit you like that. Please don't tell anyone about that.”

Kal said it almost with a whimper, looking towards Dana as well. She nodded and turned to him.

“It's fine.” he answered. “I'm not going to tell anyone.”

He could not see through the cloth on her face but he was sure that she was smiling.

Kal brought her arms to her side, looking back towards the mansion's door. Her ears were twitching and the base of her tail seemed to be moving.

“You are a rather expressive person. You know that, right?”

Kal shrugged, not knowing how to answer. Not being able to see her face made it harder to gauge her reactions, ignoring her covered ears and tail, which were a dead give away. She seemed extremely happy though.

Dana coughed and nodded her head towards the mansion.

Alfred had just left from the side of a guard standing closest to the door , it being obvious as it was a few paces to the side of the main door, and made his way down. He held a few more rolls of paper in his hand.

As he made it down to the bottom Kal realised her ears and tails were still moving, ever so slightly. She pulled her hood down and moved a hand to stop her tail from moving.

I am getting ever more curious to actually have a look at that.

Alfred quickly walked down the stairs and joined them. He glanced at Kal and Dana but rested his attention on Anton.

“My apologies about that,” he said with a slight bow, “We just need the payment to make this official. After that we will organize the bondsmen for your departure.”

“The rest of our people are, hopefully, at a place on the east side that's run by a woman called Isobell. She runs an Inn and I told them to head there to get something to eat.”

Alfred nodded and waved to the guards. They started following as they walked down the gravel pathway.

As they walked they said nothing to each-other. Alfred was far to quiet for Anton's liking. They said nothing since they left the mansion, and they had already reached the inner section's gate.

There was something in the way he walked, keeping himself a few paces ahead of Anton, that bugged him. He did not think it was a hostile act but if they wanted to continue growing their relationship it needed to be sorted out, even if it was something small and silly.

“Alfred?” Anton asked, hoping his question would not ruin their budding relations.

“Yes?” Alfred replied in a professional manner. Their was no warmth to his voice, completely and utterly changed from before. He glanced back, to him and Kal.

“Why did the Duchess change?”

Alfred seemed a little uncomfortable as he slowed down. His face contorted slightly.

“After you left she asked if it would be beneficial to enact a few of the things you suggested. I said yes. The day after that, after I had sent the message to get the scouts to investigate your city, she came to me early in the morning and asked about what you were talking about.”

He let out a sigh.

“Actually having an interest in running her territory...it was a shock to me. After so many winters of not caring. She sat down and actually listened to what I had to say about running the economy. It was stunning. I had been telling her these things for many winters, to the point of being about to be removed from her service.”

He almost glared at Anton.

“And then you come along and convinced her to listen...did you use your magic on her?”

Alfred seemed quite angry at the possibility.

I don't even know if that's possible. Maybe with the prayer power, but I would need to touch her in order for that to work. I think you would have seen mages before, but Belinda mentioned something about 'chants' when I first showed off the lightning magic. Does he think I'm hiding other types of magic?

“You give me far too much responsibility for the change,” Anton began, “If you had not been on her back constantly all these y-winters, I highly doubt she would have given what I said any serious thought. If I was anything, it would have been the tiniest breeze in the wind. It's all been because of you.”

“Well, perhaps.” Alfred replied, slowly stroking his chin. He seemed a little happier.

“How long has she been like she was?”

Alfred looked up at the sky for a second before back at Anton. His posture seemed to relax, like he had delved in a pleasant memory.

“After her father died, almost twenty winters ago. She took it very hard and I think she's still recovering. She barely talks about him and had all his paintings removed and put into storage. He died badly.”

Not really an excuse, if it's true. But I suppose that everyone has their coping methods.

“Are you sure you that you want to be telling me these sort of things?” Anton asked.

“It doesn't matter. You could find this information from anyone if you asked them.”

They passed through the gate, Alfred lead them towards Isobell's Inn. The people worked around them with the occasional laugh and smile on their faces. When they saw Alfred and the guards they bowed their heads and made great efforts to not get in their way. Their fear of Alfred, and the established order, was still great despite their improving conditions.

The air became silent again in their group. It was Dana that broke it.

“The Duchess mentioned that she had a scout sent to look at our village.” Dana said.

Alfred turned to her, not knowing what to say.

“Where you a soldier or mercenary before? Nobody here seems like they would have those sort of skills to ride out hidden through that forest and make such a detailed drawing.”

Alfred nodded as he looked at Dana.

“I was, for many years. I finally came into service of Duchess Belinda's father about thirty winters ago. After a particularly devastating battle against the Deweth Clans, my legs were severely wounded. I could barely walk.”

Anton looked down and could not see that he walked with any difficulty. Alfred saw him looking.

“I have healed since then.” he said with a  smile. “It was not easy at first, but I have become very good at my work. I dealt with making sure supplies made it to the front-lines as part of my many duties. Organization. It has made my new line of work very easy.”

This could be a good time to find out abut other foes in this region. They might be present around Atros and we should know everything we can about them.

“Have you only fought Orcs and Clansmen?” Anton asked. “What about the other beasts and monsters?”

Alfred nodded.

“I have fought many of the creatures that plague the north eastern region of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Goblins; yellow, green, black and blue. All very nasty creatures. Among others, most not worth mentioning.”

“We've only seen the yellow and green varieties. What are the other two like?”

Alfred turned and smiled.

“The blue varieties are very smart, able to actually make plans, though nothing more complex than a child’s capability. They're weaker than even the green ones so they're usually the leaders. It's the black ones you need to be careful with.”

His face contorted oddly.

“They move quickly and are so much more stronger than they look. They're a bit bigger than a yellow goblin, but a lot of people have died by thinking they're just as weak. Even smarter than the blue ones, probably even smarter than some people.”

“Why haven't they taken over the countryside if they're so strong?” Anton asked, Dana looked very interested in that as well.

“They breed very slowly, taking about a whole season to come to maturity. The others can take four to five days.” Alfred replied. “That's probably the only reason.”

“Good to know.” Dana answered, her face quickly flashed a scowl but it was gone.

“They have this habit of controlling the other breeds though.” Alfred lamented. “If you let them grow too large in number they can start a horde. Very nasty.”

“When was the last one?” Anton asked.

“About ten winters ago, in the north.” Alfred replied, looking rather grim. “It took three Knight Orders and the royal army to put them down. Many good people died and entire cities were ruined. After that the armies started working much more closely together.”

Anton did not like the sound of that. The goblins at the capital ruins were probably in the tens of thousands. It made him feel queasy knowing they were sitting there; breeding and waiting. Waiting for something. Perhaps a human to wander too close and set them off.

“Did you ever see one that looked like it was covered in giant sores and pustules?” Anton asked, “Like they were rotting and sick, being held together by their armor?”

Alfred shook his head.

“But, when we started to dissect it, one of the villagers saw something in the base of its neck. Something that glittered in the light.”

Alfred looked honestly interested.

Anton sighed.

“But when we tried to remove it, whatever it was, it shattered. Next thing the body, which had been dead for nearly a day, thrashed about and ripped itself to pieces and threw it's organs and puss everywhere. It's ribs turning inside out...Heard of anything like that?”

“No.” Alfred replied. “And why would you want to do such a thing as cut apart a puss covered Goblin?”

Dana looked at him oddly as well, she probably just wanted them dead and not used for some experiment.

“A curiosity.” Anton replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything different about them.”

“Interesting. The Church disapproves of interfering with bodies, even ones like Goblins.”

Alfred turned back to them.

“Anyway, back to what you asked before. It's not just been Goblins, Orcs and Clansmen, that I've fought and killed. Obviously bandits, a few roving centaur warlords in the west, they weren't fun to deal with. And Beast-kin.”

Kal almost tripped at the mention. She ungracefully steadied herself as she coughed to try and calm herself and cover her stumble.

“Beast-kin?” Anton asked. “I've heard of them in Atros. Never actually seen one.”

“But you know what a centaur is?” Alfred asked, throwing him a quizzical brow.

“Half man, half horse. The bottom half is a horse.” Anton replied.

He hoped that what he knew as centaurs were the same here.

Alfred glanced between the three.

“They are. But they are a lot more hairy than even the most rugged human.”

“You...you said you fought Beast-kin?” Kal asked, her voice wobbling ever so slightly. “How? They're all enslaved in Seocuria?”

Alfred stared at her as they walked. Kal made no extra movement as she tried to remain calm.

“They are.” Alfred said with a smile. “But about a winter or two before I became injured, there was a break-out. Quite a large one.”

Oh?

Kal's head snapped to him while Dana looked worriedly at Anton.

“They didn't have anywhere to go so they just wandered about, raping and pillaging their way through the Grataeris Empire, finally making their way here.”

“They-” Kal began to angrily splutter out.

“That sounds terrible.” Anton said, cutting Kal off. She looked towards him and kept her head down.

“It was.” Alfred had a hint of a wistful smile. Anton hoped he would not pursue questioning Kal. If pressed, he hoped that he could pass Kal off as an eccentric. Her full body cloth wrappings already contributed to that.

“There weren't that many left when we fought them.” Alfred explained. “I think they went through the Deweth Clan territory then to the north of Qaiviel.”

He looked forward as they walked past another junction. Isobell's inn was not far away.

Kal moved forward and tugged at his sleeves, leaning into his ear and whispering.

“Every Beast-kin knows that the Clansmen are just as bad as the Seocurian's. They would never head that way.”

So it might have been a test, one that we probably failed. He's probably had decades of practice with this sort of stuff. And we've had a few minutes. We might need to remind him of what the Duchess was like before, and the Clansmen and Orcs working together, if he tries to pressure us.

Anton smiled, nodded, and patted her hand. She withdrew her hand and gripped the medallion on her chest. She whispered something to herself, so light he could not hear it.

“That was the first and last time I saw any Beast-kin. Rather odd looking creatures, animal and humans forced together. Really though, it was only a tired few.” Alfred finished.

Anton hummed in agreement.

They remained silent as they approached the Inn.

---[]---

Isobell's Inn looked far better than it had before, a new running theme of the city. Even the rat symbol hanging over the front had been repainted.

Outside of the front was a cart, villagers mulling around it. Some were sitting on the back of the cart, drinking something out of large wooden mugs. Judging by their faces it looked to be alcohol and they were starting to feel its effect. In their laps and other hands were cooked pieces of meat skewered on sticks, that looked like kebabs. They also had a large piece of bread that they were slowly picking at.

Raston and a few other villagers waited near the entrance to the Inn. Isobell, and one of her sons, stood nearby, food in their hands as well. Raston yelled something into the Inn as soon as he saw them approach. The villagers waiting on the carts perked up and downed their drinks.

Many villagers, and quite a few of the Maxill bondsmen and citizens exited the Inn. It seemed to be quite a popular place now.

The villagers gathered around the cart while Raston and Isobell made their way to them.

Isobell looked several years younger, the lines of worry and stress had faded away. She still looked like someone who worked hard nearly every day of her life, but now the stress from harassment was gone.

When she saw Alfred and the guards her body tensed for a second, but relaxed a moment later. She smiled when she saw Anton.

“Ah, Anton. You're alive.” Raston said with a slight slur.

“Are you drunk?” Anton asked.

“I haven't drunk that much...only a few mugs.” Raston replied.

Isobell chuckled lightly.

“They've all been at my supply of alcohol for some time.” Isobell began. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“I've been hearing that a lot.”

Isobell laughed.

“I bet you have. You want another shot of the Blue Devil?” she asked. The special blue liquor that she kept for special occasions burned even when he had just a few sips. It was good, but a decent mouthful would have made him very drunk.

“That stuff was very strong, I think we'll have to pass on that one.” Anton replied. “We're basically off once we get payment to Alfred and get the goods from Lester.”

“More bondsmen?” she asked, looking at Raston. “They're so much more fun now they're living on the other side of the forest.”

She gave Raston a slap on the behind, Raston flushing in response. Anton felt a quite intense source of anger coming from his side. Dana looked like she was quite angry, even though she did a good job of hiding it behind her usual cold demeanor.

You aren't an item yet? Are you?

Anton decided it was a question for another time. He turned his attention to Alfred, who was watching everything unfold with a passive expression. Alfred was not someone they should keep waiting unnecessarily, especially considering his closeness to Duchess Belinda.

“So, Alfred. It was thirty gold?” Anton asked for confirmation.

Alfred nodded, ignoring the scene of Dana giving Raston a death stare for getting hit on infront of her, Isobell pretending to look innocent. It was probably the most fun she's had in quite a while.

He rolled out one of the sheets, the bill of sale, and read over it again.

“Indeed. However that only covers the purchase of the people and their families...for a reduced price.”

Alfred glanced over at Kal. Kal shifted but remained standing firm. He glanced her up and down, frowning but saying nothing. Anton hoped that he was annoyed that he got less than they initially intended to get for them.

“You will need to pay for the food and water supplies, for moving such a large number of people, yourself.”

“That won't be a problem.” Anton replied, turning to Raston. “How much gold did you manage guys manage to spend?”

Raston turned away from Dana, looking a little tankful to no longer bearing the brunt of her gaze. He looked a little sheepish.

“We...We spent a bit. Only one gold coin worth though. Lester gave us the change and we put it in the strong box.” Raston explained.

“Kal, could you please get the gold?”

Kal nodded and jogged over to the cart. Alfred watched her but said nothing. Anton saw his eyes train to her feet but only for a second. He turned towards Anton, nothing on his face to show that she had been found out. Yet.

“Alfred,” Anton began, “I really hope that you guys take the news about the Orcs and Clans working together seriously. This is going to sound selfish, but if Maxill was to be destroyed and you guys were to be killed, it would make things very difficult for us. I don't what you could actually do to try and fight off a full war-host...”

Anton did not know how to continue, not knowing how to tell them not to get killed.

“If you had said that you genuinely cared about us, I might be dubious about your intentions.” There was almost a smirk underneath his somewhat stern face.

“So you trust what I have to say?”

“For now, until we get proper scout reports, yes. If the full might of the Deweth Clans tried to come through here, there is very little that we could do.” Alfred replied.

Kal opened the box and started pulling out gold coins.

“Although, give us a few seasons, and this city will be a tough nut to crack.” Alfred said it somewhat proudly.

He obviously had quite a few ideas and thoughts on the subject. Spending a good portion of his life as a mercenary certainly would have taught him a thing about siege warfare, if he actually had been involved in one. Anton did not know the politics between the local rulers. Warfare may have been a natural part of life deeper into the Kingdom.

“I fear you may not have that long.” Anton lamented. Alfred remained quiet, probably thinking the same thing.

If you have mercenary scouts that you could get so quickly, I wonder how many soldiers you could get? Not enough, probably.

Kal returned with the gold in her hands in stacks of ten. She tried to hand them to Alfred but he moved away and let one of the guards take it. The guard quickly counted them and nodded in approval to Alfred. They knew how to count, but he doubted if they could read.

I wonder if Verona has been keeping up on her studies on trying to read. When we were fighting the Yellow Goblins, there were more important things to worry about. I'll need to check up on that. We'll also need to start getting some sort of education system established. If the general people of Atros can read and become decently educated, it opens up all sort of interesting possibilities.

Alfred smiled and brought out a cloth wrapped fine tipped piece of charcoal to write with. He signed something on each of the pieces of paper and handed them to Anton.

“Everything seems to be in good order.” Alfred began. “I wish you luck in your travels and trials.”

“You too.” Anton said, holding out his hand for Alfred's hand to shake, “It seems like you will have quite a few of your own.”

Alfred seemed to understand the meaning of the action and shook his hand lightly.

“The guards will have the bondsmen gathered at the east gate shortly.”

“Did the families of the previously purchased bondsmen included in the deal?” Anton asked.

Alfred nodded.

“Already done. I have those included in this purchase.”

He led up another large sheet of paper, there were many names written in extremely small writing, and handed it to the guards.

Alfred waved to the guards and all, bar the one holding the gold, saluted and ran off.

“Farewell, Anton.”

He gave one last polite nod and headed back towards the mansion, Anton hoped to begin planning the defense of the cities.

“Looks like our time is over here.” Anton said to the villagers, turning to Raston. “Did you guys manage to find your families?”

Raston nodded.

“We did, they're doing a little better now. Though when I mentioned what life was like in Atros they were willing to just run away.”

“Let's hope they don't. What I need you guys to do is get everything that we bought from Lester and load it up onto the carts, presuming he's got it ready. We'll also need food and water for the trip.”

Anton turned to Isobell.

“Can you sell some of that for us?”

Isobell shrugged dismissively.

“I don't have that much. Not enough for six hundred people. Maybe if you bought from everyone that would be willing to sell you might have enough.”

“That'll have to do.” Anton replied. “We leave as soon as we are able. We've stayed long enough.”

---[]---

Anton was amazed at the speed at which the bondsmen, and their families, could be organized. It was clear from the looks on their faces that they were equally frightened and excited. News must have traveled fast in the formerly beaten and abused populace.

Lester, once again, had been shocked when Anton told him how many people he had managed to acquire this time. He said that it would probably be the largest purchase for some time, Anton agreed. The Duchess, and now Alfred, could not afford to sell every bondsmen and worker in their cities to him and expect to survive. There were other cities beyond Maxill that she controlled but he did not want to have to travel deeper into the kingdom if they could help it. If there was a next time the bondsmen from other cities would have to be bought and delivered through Maxill, as long as Duchess Belinda was willing.

Lester had been true to his word. They had an extra twenty carts, all puled by some rather hungry looking Ix, but no horses. Those creatures would like the better feed they would receive in Atros. He did not say where he got them, but assured him that the previous owners were well compensated.

The weapons and armor had been loaded in small and slim containers, packed rightly with straw. They did not look as grand as the armor that Duchess Belinda's personal guards wore but they would certainly keep the villagers safe.

Lester had taken him aside and showed him the explosive powder. It was light blue, extremely fine powder. He took a tiny piece out and brought a flame to it on the end of a long stick. The powder ignited in a bright white and blue flash, producing quite a bit of smoke and heat. Anton did not know much about gunpowder, but it would have to be their starting point. He hoped that Jonathan had quite a few of the hand cannons to experiment with. Nonetheless, he was very impressed and had them loaded onto the carts. He made a very important mention to everyone to not let any fire get near the barrels.

Those that could steer the beasts had been put in charge of the carts, and the spare space had been used for the young and elderly. Boxes of preserved food and barrels of water nearly overflowed from the carts. They would have to hunt in the forest to help boost supplies and gather water at the lake. It would be a good chance to see if anything happened to the Orcs there.

The logistics of moving such a large group of people and keeping them fed was quite an ordeal.

While it was not a long physical distance to Atros, the rugged terrain and unused paths made travel so much more slower. Now with so many more people it would slow them down even more. They would have to push them hard to get them through. Anton was not looking forward to testing out his magical capacity again, remembering the awful feeling of depletion that he had after the Yellow Goblin siege.

When Atros became larger and more powerful they would need to invest in making a path through the forest. It would speed up trade and open the possibility of helping one another quickly in times of distress. If the demons the gods spoke of were that dangerous, they would need everyone they could get.

Raston stood on top of the cart that Anton and Kal were sitting on. He was telling the, soon to be be former, bondsmen what life was like for him in Atros and what was expected of them. He, thankfully, had glossed over the Yellow Goblins and Kobolds, saying that while there were threats, they had the strength to deal with them.

Raston was quickly becoming quite a valuable person for relations with Maxill and the Qaiviel Kingdom at large. Being a former bondsmen granted him a certain respectability amongst them. He still wore the same clothes that he used to in Maxill.

Kal's identity as a half breed Beast-kin had also been omitted. There were a few odd looks from the bondsmen towards her, a mysterious person completely shrouded in cloth that barely spoke. Anton had heard quite a few mumbles directed towards her. Thankfully it came down to it being a strange religious decision or the result of a terrible burn.

Raston sounded like he was finishing up the remaining questions that the bondsmen had. It was good that they were hearing it from him, someone who grew up and lived here.

Anton's mind wandered back to Atros. He was glad that he had not seen Verona running towards them but he was anxious to return and feel her warmth in his arms.

I wonder what Verona will think of the gifts I have gotten her? I think she'll like them.

He smiled on the inside, wondering what her actual face would look like. Hopefully surprise and excitement. The moment they were done with getting everyone settled in he would make good on his promise and take her to bed.

Movement to his side broke his concentration.

Kal moved to place her hand over the small locked money box. She seemed to have taken it as a mission to protect it.

There was the other gift that he had in the small bag at his feet. While everyone's attention was still on Raston, he decided that it would be a good time.

“Kal?” Anton asked, Kal's head immediately snapping towards his own.

“What's wrong?” she asked, moving her hand over the box as if to tell him it was still safe.

“Nothing's wrong Kal,” Anton answered, rummaging around the small bag. “You really didn't get much of a chance to look around Lester's shop and see if you wanted anything.”

“I-”

“I also know you probably would not have bought anything for yourself, I decided to get you something. Something that I think you'll like.”

“I really don't need anything.” Kal said, almost flustered that she was receiving another gift. Her hand clutched at her chest, where her medallion lay. “I really don't need-”

Anton brought out the brush and handed it to Kal. It was cheap, compared to Verona's gifts, but he hoped she would like it.

“This...”

“When I was checking out your feet the other day I noticed that your...um...hair, was knotted and gnarled in quite a few places. It seems to be a real shame to leave it like that, and it might even be causing you some discomfort you're not even aware of, so I got you this. I realize that you can't exactly use it on our trip back, but when we're back at Atros I would like for you to use it. Our first...well, you know, anyway, I don't want our first one to look like a scruff bag when you're out and about. Plus the hair on your head looks like you've never taken a day to care how it looks. I'm sure it would look good if you took some care with it.”

He swore that Kal was slightly offended underneath her face cloth. She might have cared quite a bit, but never had a chance to do anything about it. Soon her body relaxed and she held the brush tight in her hands. She tucked in on the inside of her waist underneath her cloak, he could see the spoon, that he created through magic, alongside the daggers.

“Thank-you Anton. You're right, I wouldn't have bought something like this myself. I'll use it when I get back.”

“Over time, once we get to Seocuria, I would like it if the rest of you could walk around freely, actually able to show your hands and feet without worry.”

Anton leaned in.

“And tails.”

Kal chuckled.

“I would like that. It does get quite uncomfortable after a while.”

Anton was curious about it. When she was extremely happy the base of the tail that came from her spine wiggled, he had no idea how long it actually was or what it looked like.

She looked out at the bondsmen. They seemed to be almost done as Raston took his seat next to them and the convoy started to move out at the sound of the gate rumbling open.

“They're not going to accept me, are they?. Not right away. I'll have to keep wearing this, I did like the sun on my face.” Kal lamented quietly. “It took a Kobold attack for any sort of...tolerance without you, and Verona. These people have seen nothing of that. Will I have to wait for another attack?”

“I...I don't know.” Anton replied truthfully. Kal brought her feet up, hugging her legs and resting her head on her knees.

“But, if it's any consolation, it won't be foreigners telling them. Raston and the other bondsmen seem quite okay with your presence, even talking to you like a normal villager. Now, it'll be their own people telling the others about you, so it should be easier. There won't be any serious issues, not if I have anything to say about it.”

Anton reached out and patted her shoulder. She recoiled for an instant but relaxed after taking another glance to make sure it was his hand.

“I hope so.” she replied, sounding a little hopeful.

The number of people that you could actually rely on, you could probably count on one hand. Let's hope we can change that.

“What do you think has happened back at Atros?” Kal asked. There was some nervousness in her voice. “I like sleeping in a proper bed, not on the ground. Somewhere warm and where there was food.”

“Getting used to the luxuries of life?” Anton asked teasingly.

He could tell that she was embarrassed, her body flinched at the thought of it.

“No. But I am curious.”

“Me too. Another fourteen or so days and we'll have this lot back at Atros. Hopefully Verona's been able to keep the peace.”

He smiled, was almost certain that Kal was too, as they entered the forest again. Home would be a welcome thing, now with seven hundred new citizens.

---[]---

Alfred watched the large procession of bondsmen leaving Maxill from the highest room on the eastern side of the mansion.

He took down the optical spyglass from his eye, a recent invention from the Grataeris Empire. It was a long cylinder of thin metal with several discs of strangely fashioned glass. Looking through it he could see things far away like they were much closer. He did not understand how it really worked, but he was enjoying it.

However, if the church were to find out he had it, he would be in serious trouble. They disapproved of anything new, and especially something made by a rival Empire. He despised how much power they seemed to exert of the kingdom, though as far as they were away from the capital their power was virtually negligible.

A clink of glass being placed on wood brought him back to reality.

Duchess Belinda had just finished her glass of scotch and was pouring herself another one. Since she had started listening to him more, her drinking had subsided, although she seemed to enjoy a few glasses after something went well.

“Is something bothering you?” she asked, bringing the full glass to her lips, “Usually you are drinking with me.”

“Not today, My lady,” he replied, “I am just making sure they go away safely. So strange.”

There was a pause before she spoke again.

“Do you think it was wrong to sell so many bondsmen?” she asked.

“It is not my position to judge.”

She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“That's not why I started listening to you.” she said slyly.

“No. I suppose it's not.”

Alfred walked away from the window and took the large, plush leather seat opposite. He took a glass that she had poured for him, far too much of the drink for him.

“Perhaps, but the amount of gold that we received in return will greatly accelerate construction...and preparing our defenses.”

Duchess Belinda frowned as she looked deeply at the drink.

“Do you think they were honestly telling us the truth?”

“I think they were.” Alfred replied. “They didn't have a reason to lie, and their reasons for us to live are entirely based on self interest.”

“I guess that means that they can be trusted.”

Alfred smiled and leant back into the chair. While he was not sure if Anton, and the city of Atros, could be entirely trusted, it was good to know that Duchess Belinda might actually have an ally after all those winters, alone and isolated.

She looked up and frowned.

“But, there's something else.” she began. “I know that look very well. There's something else you want to say.”

There was, and he was not sure if he should even pursue it.

“The girl.”

“Which one? The cloth wrapped girl or the one with the deep stare. She was a little strange, that one. Didn't say anything when those two left and just kept looking straight at me....”

“Kal, the one wrapped in cloth.”

“What about her?” she asked, leaning back.

“...I think she's a Beast-kin.”

Duchess Belinda raised a red eyebrow as she took another sip.

“What makes you say that? Anyone could choose to wear something like that.”

“It was her reaction-”

“To Anton buying the bondsmen?” She shrugged. “She may have not liked the idea of the system of the bondsmen. I know many of them don't. That doesn't make her one of those creatures.”

“It was after they exited the mansion, while I waited inside for a moment. Her hood....moved, near her backside moved as well.”

She was silent, waiting for him to continue.

“A tail and long ears. On the way over to collect the gold, we talked about the types of monsters and beasts present in the Kingdom. She seemed quite disinterested, until I mentioned killing some escaped Beast-Kin from Seocuria. That other one was very interested in the Goblins.”

“But, there haven't been any Beast-Kin this far west.”

Alfred nodded.

“True, but she did not know that. She became quite angry and flustered, despite her face and body being hidden. Anton stepped in to make sure she did not say anything more.”

Duchess Belinda looked down in deep thought.

“I think that's enough to suspect her...race.” Alfred finished.

Neither said anything for some time.

“How many people know of this?” she asked.

“Only the both of us. Some of the guards may have seen it but they wouldn't know what to look for. The Church is deliberately vague about descriptions of Beast-kin.”

“Please....Please keep it that way. I don't want anything to happen to them.”

“Are you caring for them?” he genuinely wanted to know.

She shrugged.

“Not particularly, but I don't want to loose such an important source of money. Now...”

She leant forward, placing the glass onto the wooden table infront of them.

“I know that you actually fought Beast-Kin during the last suppression in Seocuria before coming into our families service, but I think we need to let this one go. I don't want the Church and the rest of the royals poking around out here while they look for one Beast-Kin. Do you actually believe what the Church has to say about them?”

“About them being abominations and the product of sin? No. I think that they look quite strange but I don't think they are evil....I would not say that outside of this room.”

Duchess Belinda grunted. Despite her change she still did not like being controlled or restrained.

“Good. We'll keep this a secret then, for a continued positive relation with Atros.”

Alfred was liking the more positive steps she was taking, even if it too was out of self interest.

“Besides, it was....sort of....because of them that I actually listened to you. I think that gives them enough leeway this time.”

Alfred nodded, Duchess Belinda rising out of her chair. That signaled that the conversation was over.

“Now, let us prepare for this supposed Orc and Clan attack.” she said, turning away and walking to the door.

Such willingness to become involved in actual affairs was still new to Alfred. He downed the remains of the scotch and followed.

His heart was troubled. He knew how terrifying a horde of Clansmen, yelling and swinging their weapons, could be. And now there were tens of thousands of them, backed up by untold number of Orcs, that may try and flood through their region.

There was little they could do, but prepare and warn everyone as best they could. He hoped they would survive to see the next winter.

------------------------

Hello.

This is probably the largest chapter I've done at 14,000 ish words. One of the reasons why it took so long.

First, the map. Probably best to see it in a new tab. I'm about to try a new software that might allow me to properly draw things like mountains and forests. I'm also on very slow internet so it'll take some time to get and experiment. So, I'm very sorry that I'm not able to show those sort of things like that. However I did say that i would release one. This has the general outline and has Atros and Maxill on it, not to scale...despite the size of the file.

I started just drawing the two Kingdoms and then decided to just draw the entire Shattered Kingdoms. Eventually I'll have better terrain and most of the cities and landmarks put onto the map, I'll make a note with each update and make a more permanent post or something.

It details the six kingdoms and empires that make up the Shattered Kingdoms, all surrounding the Deweth Clan territory at the center. The one to the south of Atros, the Oranthas Kingdom, is an elven kingdom. However, it's not the one the other heroes landed at. That one is much further away to the west, beyond the monster territories and other human and other creatures kingdoms and Empires. There are also islands but I still need to put those in.

Anyway, the Chapter itself.

I went through the previous chapters and i can't find Kal being told that people like Raston are bondsmen, at worst that they are from Maxill and not what they were. Her reaction helps to show how seriously she takes something like slavery. Also that she was brave enough to enter a place that reminded her of her terrible childhood.

My parallel of the Maginot line and the potential invasion would be best shown if the map was better. Suffice it to say that they are simply going around through formerly impassable territory, traveling very close to the mountain north of Atros.

The Duchess has solved her problem of mismanagement by simply giving control to Alfred. This is also to show how she deals with her problems, in so far as getting someone skilled to do it for her. It works for her. She is also starting to try and think about the larger picture too.

Also her reason for being previous attitude....It was the best i could come up with without it being completely stupid. Think more of a depressive spiral that got out of control. I also had Alfred say it, who lied about meeting Beast-kin to try and lure Kal into giving away her identity, so it might not be true. (A way to get out of it being too silly). Also she doesn't really care that Kal could be a Beast-kin, especially as Anton has quite a bit of money on him.

The chapter was getting too large to deal with the explosive powder properly, however it would have just been as i described. Just having the powder and then having it explode into heat and smoke and then load it up. Next few chapters will go into more detail with it as they will have the prototype hand cannons and a bit more safe and private areas to experiment.

The last bit was to show the stifling hold the Qaiviel Kingdom (Maxill) is under, in that the church disapproves of anything new. They will be expanded upon and how they operate later, their hatred for the Beast-kin is not unexpected to try and keep unity with a common enemy.

Also the spyglass is to show that the Grataeris Empire (to the North-East of Atros) is far more liberal and advanced. They're already at that level of development, but all the industries of this world are a mixture of normal and magic based.

So, long rant at the end, but i hope i covered everything.

Thanks for reading!

Announcement

Hello Everyone.

Unfortunately this is not a chapter, but a well deserved update as to what is happening.

Basically put, it has been a very busy time for me this last month with my time either asleep or working. This has left me very little time to do any typing or specifically, editing. And this will continuing for the next week at least.

I have been able to continue typing on my phone but i find it extremely difficult to edit on it, so i have the next three chapters in waiting for editing.

Anyway, this is just to let everyone know that I am still working on the chapters. It's not dead or on hiatus.

Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 034 - The Home Front

Chapter 034:

Verona lay on her back on the northern most inner wall of Atros, staring at the few wisps of cloud that strayed overhead. The warm sun graced her face as it hung in the middle of the sky. The stone underneath was warm as well, heating her backside through her leather armour. Her warmth did not distract from the overriding feeling that swirled through her mind.

She was bored.

Completely and utterly bored senseless.

It had only been fifteen days since Anton and the others left for Maxill, and now Verona was seriously regretting her decision to stay behind.

She knew it was probably the right thing to do, to make sure that someone remained in Maxill that could magic to fend off any attacks from the monsters and beast. It did nothing to help alleviate the sense of boredom.

For the first few days she had enjoyed having more space in their bed, but quickly she had started to miss the warmth that sleeping with Anton provided, among other enjoyable things.

Other problems quickly emerged.

She quickly realised how reliant she had become on Anton for healing and general guidance, like what to do for the day. For the first few days she had found it quite distressing. She had to ask the others what to do. It was quite awkward and embarrassing the first few times, especially as her main use was fighting. Now at the fifteenth day it was better.

Although she was working on becoming more independent there were other things on her mind. She sighed as she moved her hand to cover her eyes to block out the sun.

“I really don't have that many people that I can talk to that are my own age.” she lamented out loud. “Everybody my own age is terrified of me, and the people that aren't are either not here or nearly twice my age.”

She had tried to talk to some her own age but they ran away as soon as they saw her approaching. It hurt to watch them heading away and glancing over the shoulder to see if she was still following. The older villagers were better but they remained stiff when they spoke to her. She knew that it was due to her power that ripped blood out of her enemies and used it to kill. That, and the fact she glowed red when she used it.

She sighed again and resumed her basking in the sun undisturbed. Right now she had little to do, so she was hiding, in a sense.

Soon there was a strange sound coming towards her. She raised herself up and looked back towards Atros, down the wooden steps to the ground.

Someone was walking up the wooden stairs towards her.

Verona quickly glanced around and saw that there were a few guards keeping watch, most were looking quite bored or chatting. Jeff would not like to hear that they were not taking their job seriously.

A head of short brown hair slowly emerged. Verona recognised it, she had seen in almost every day in Atros.

It belonged to Sam, Jeff's partner and probably future wife.

Verona did not really know what to make of Sam yet, despite knowing her offhandedly for her whole life. She did seem to care for her and Anton, and was very interested in their private life, especially now that he was not here.

“There you are Verona,” she said, giving a little wave as she made it to the top of the wall, “We've all been looking for you. You can hide pretty well.”

Sam looked around, seeing that the other guards paid Verona little attention. Though that may have been because of her powers. They seemed so horrific to some but not to her, to her it was as normal as breathing.

“So this is where you disappear to each day, you've being doing it nearly every day after Anton left.”

Verona shrugged, still lying down. She hauled herself up and leant against the wall, her dark brown and red spear resting beside her.

“I'm just up here relaxing for a bit. Nobody disturbs me here. Besides, my body is still quite sore from all the exercise that you guys have been putting me through the past few days. Even when I had to fight alongside Anton my body never felt like this, although he was healing me every time.”

Verona chuckled as she folded her arms underneath her breasts covered by her leather armour.

“Although, with him probably returning from Maxill, it should not be too much longer.”

“Longer until...?” Sam asked with a wicked smirk.

Verona did not bother to answer. She fully understood what Sam was talking about. The day that Anton had left she had started asking about their sex life. Verona had relented after the tenth day of questioning, receiving many inappropriate comments and suggestions on what she should do. Sam had laughed when she found what she and Anton were doing. Thinking about it made her face heat up.

“You should really be out there helping them practice.” Sam said as she walked and leant on the wall, looking out. It appeared she was not going to tease her right now.

Verona turned around to look over the practice fields. It was situated between the wall she currently stood on and another built further away, a second defensive wall. It was much bigger and stronger than the first one and was still under construction.

She could see many villagers, and a fair few of the bondsmen from Maxill, practising relentlessly with blunt swords, spears and wooden shields. Beyond them was Avery and his archers, working equally as hard.Verona stretched out her back, first forward than backwards, the burning sensation from exercise ran through her with every movement.

“I don't think that I would be very good at teaching them how to fight. I can only use this spear well, and they can't use my magic. I've gotten so used to using having them both that I don't even know if I can really fight without them.”

Verona felt her body go slightly colder, her heart sinking.

“And...”

“And?” Sam asked, warm and almost motherly.

“They would try and run away...They're afraid of me.” she said almost in a whisper, hanging her head down and letting her silver hair cover her face. “Everyone except the people on the council is afraid of me. It's gotten worse since Anton left, like they think that I'm barely being controlled now that he's not around...and these are the people I grew up with. The day that I got my powers, the day I ripped an arm off and shredded a body without hesitating, while I was in a trance...that's when it really started. They looked at me like I was a freak when we got back...I think that's what helped make me closer to Anton. He doesn't care that I'm different. He loves me no matter what.”

Sam moved over and put her arm around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Verona suppressed a sniffle.

“I'm fine,” she said as she straightened up, “It can just get a bit hard when I try to talk to people my own age and they look like they just want to run away. Even just to say hello. I'm not using my powers so I'm not glowing red, I look like I do know. They can't see any of my marks. I guess that's just the way things are going to be.”

She sighed again.“I just wish I could talk to people normally.”

“We're still here for you.” Sam said, giving her a little shake of encouragement.

Verona laughed on the inside.

She's right. I have heaps of friends, and people that I love and that love me. I should not be like this, I need to be helping in some way. That's what Anton would do.

She brushed Sam arm off her and slapped her own face hard. Not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to cause some pain. And bring some levity and clarity to her thoughts.

Sam raised a confused eyebrow as she looked at her.

“Moping around isn't going to make anything better.” Verona said as she puffed out her armoured chest. “Most people were afraid of Anton in the beginning, even if he didn't really see it, and he's fine with that. So it's time for me to stop being so silly.”

She turned to Sam, her normal smile returned. Immediately she felt her mood improve. Her father had always told her to smile more, something she had followed devoutly after he died.

“See, I feel better already.” Verona said as she retrieved her spear. “I may not be able to be friends with everyone, so I'll just have to do the best I can.”

“Well...” Sam did not know how to respond to Verona's sudden change in attitude. She might have expected her to mope around for quite some time before finally coming around.

“You said that people were looking for me?” Verona asked.

Sam smiled, thankful that Verona was directing her to a better topic.

“Yes. Since it's about mid-day, we were about to have lunch.” Sam explained. “There's also going to be a council meeting...thing, then too. It sounds like Jeff is wanting to do something a little silly. So...do you want to come?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Verona answered. “If I'm going to be a help to everyone I need to be able to make decisions on my own, and learning is the only way.”

She realised she had said it a little bit arrogantly, like it would have been a profound revelation to Sam.

Sam, thankfully, smiled and started to walk down the wooden steps.

Verona retrieved her spear and followed with Sam waiting at the bottom of the steps for her to arrive. The guards paid them little mind as they walked towards the center. Other villagers were heading towards the central plaza as well.

“So, Verona...” Sam leant in close to Verona. She knew what she was about to ask.

“How are you handling things...you know?”

Verona shook her head, her face was already beginning to heat up.

“You've been asking me every day, and I've already told you.” she brushed her hand through her hair, “That was embarrassing enough, that one time.”

Sam laughed. The other passing villagers looked but kept on moving faster than they did.

“I know. I just love the way your face scrunches up when you're embarrassed. It's cute.”

Verona grunted angrily. The conversation reminded her of why she found it difficult to talk to her.

“I'm sorry.” Sam wrapped her arm around Verona's shoulders, she would not be able to escape easily.

“But there was something I wanted to ask you, you know, about that.”

Verona looked up at Sam, the mischievous look was gone.

“Since you two are together pretty much all the time...I was wondering when you were going to have kids.”

“Oh.” Verona flushed with embarrassment. She had often thought as to what it would be like to be pregnant, with a large stomach, knowing that she was carrying another life inside of her. One from the person she loved.

“Well, Anton said that he didn't want kids just yet. I think we both agreed that we would wait until Atros was larger and stronger. That way, if he's away while I'm pregnant, there'll be enough strength here to keep us all safe. I don't know how I'll be able to use my magic properly.”

“Well, it's a big decision you're making. But, I know that you'll look after them like a good mother.”

“Them?” Verona asked with a raised silver eyebrow.

“With the way you two are going at it, I don't think it'll be just one child.”

“Wha-?” Verona stammered.

The thought of having multiple children, all different ages, with silver and blonde a hair, running about their house, caused her to flush even brighter. It was an amazing scene to her. In it she was smiling while holding a small child, another two clinging to her legs to get attention while Anton brought her up for a deep kiss. Seeing it over and over in her mind made her flush deeply.

When she came to her senses, and out of her fantasy, Sam had moved infront of her.

“You just liked what you saw...”

Sam was smiling wickedly again. Verona tried to cover her face but Sam just walked to her side.

“See, it's just so easy.” Sam said as she laughed loudly.

Verona grumbled, but she felt something odd through Sam's arm.

“I hope that you'll be happy.”

There was something in her voice, something distant and remorseful. She caught the odd look that Verona threw at her.

“I...um...haven't told anyone this, but I've actually had a child before.”

Verona looked up and searched her memories. While she did not know everybody very well, she remembered nothing about Sam and Jeff having a child.

“When...”

“It was quite a few winters ago.” Sam almost had tears in her eyes as she looked into nowhere. “I think you would have been about ten. He...ugh...didn't make it.”

Verona could not reply. She just looked at the ground.

Not every child that was born alive...it was something that her parents avoided talking about whenever she asked about children. The thought that her potential children might not be born alive was a cold and oppressive thought.

“But, it was quite a long time ago.” Sam continued, “Atros was a lot larger then and was only just starting to fall apart.”

“I...I'm-”

“It's fine.” she pulled Verona closer. “Actually, Jeff and I are trying for another child now that it's safe here. That's why I was going to ask you about it.”

Verona squirmed free.

“Well, I think it'll be next winter or maybe the next after that.”

“Any idea what you're going to name it?”

Verona shook her head.

“That's another thing I hadn't thought of. It'll give me something to do for the rest of the day.”

“Come on, the boys will be getting impatient.”

Sam laughed and walked faster, Verona quickened her pace to keep up. She could already smell the cooking food coming from the central plaza. The smell reminded her that she was quite hungry. The previous conversation washed away from her mind but still lingered at the back. When Anton got back she planned to have a talk with him about it, maybe even learn what it was like in his world.

She almost started skipping as she arrived at the edge of the central plaza.

---[]---

Verona took her usual seat at the large wooden table reserved for the council meetings. Since Anton had left they started having their daily meetings outside, just outside the Main Hall. It seemed they liked being in the outdoors more than being inside. There was quite some distance from them and the other villagers so they would not be disturbed. For anything serious they would wait and discuss it inside.

Verona liked this as it meant there was lots of fresh air and the sun was out. There was still a chair reserved for Anton. It looked empty and reminded her of why she needed to pay so much more attention at these meetings. Despite telling Anton that she would try harder, and her best intentions before, most of these meetings had flown over her head. The isolation she felt from the other villagers had pushed her to hiding to get away from the feelings. She would run away as soon as she could.

Now it was different. She had to be different.

Now she would prove that she would contribute to the village, and to Anton's strange and obscure vision for this world. Whatever that would actually be.

Most of the other villagers had already gathered for the meeting, except for Bertram and Sybil.

They were good people, even if her parents had not really gotten along well with them. She still did not like remembering how life was before, when everyone was effectively left to fend for themselves, but that was in the past.

Throughout the rest of the central plaza, as Anton called it, was swarming in other villagers looking for a free table to sit and eat. Several of the women, and a few of the elderly men, were in charge of cooking and distributing food.

Anton had told her, in private, that it was a good idea for people to keep working in some form. Most people would want to contribute and if they could not fight, or build, they could do at least something. Something that would bring smiles to faces and the knowledge that they were keeping their fellow people alive.

Verona smiled on the inside, knowing that the villagers were all working together mostly.

Through the crowd, leaving a table mostly formed of former Maxill bondsmen, she could see Bertram and Sybil. She could see them making their way to the table as fast as they could, even if that meant a bit of a hobble between the two of them.

“You okay, Dad?” Jeff asked as they both made it to their table.

Bertram nodded as he pulled out a chair for himself and Sybil. She appreciated the gesture with a light smile as she took her seat and waited for Bertram to do the same.

“Everything's fine.” He replied. “Just still a bit stiff this morning.”

Bertram sat down with a tiny groan as he made contact with the chair. Compared to the those she had sat on in Maxill, in Duchess Belinda's mansion, these were incredibly uncomfortable and plain. It was strange to her that she had not thought it like that before. Before she had not known any different.

“That-”

“It's fine.” Bertram said. “Now that I'm up and about, everything's starting to feel better.”

Jeff gave an awkward smile, followed by a stifled laugh between the family.

I wish I could still laugh with my parents. I wonder what they would make of my relationship with Anton? Or that I'm a blood mage?

Her mental pondering was interrupted by a loud cough from Bertram, the signal that the meeting was about to start.

“Thank-you everyone for coming,” he began, “We have quite a few things to discuss today.”

“Actually,” Sybil interrupted, “First I think that we should have lunch. Some of the other women and I have already made it, and I don't want it to get cold.”

Oh, hot food!

Verona found herself almost salivating. While cold food was good, it was when the meat and vegetables were steaming that it tasted the best. Especially when the meat had little charred bits on the outside.

Sybil and Sam stood up and headed into the Main Hall, quickly emerging with plates with steaming food.

Last time they had hot food, Anton had used his flame magic to roast the meat and vegetables. It seemed like it made him feel rather uncomfortable to use such a powerful magic for something so simple. Nevertheless everyone enjoyed it.

Though now with him gone, and his magic too, she wondered if this was going to be a common thing. Wood was not in great supply especially if they were going to have three hot meals a day. With their increase in demand, for the rapid construction and for fuel, they had harvested all the the mature trees around Atros.

Now they had to go to the western forest or to the small forest overlooking the stone quarry to get wood, although they were starting now to use the coal the miners were digging up to replace it. The coal was such a dirty thing to handle, it took Verona some time to get the dust completely off her hands when she touched it once. Despite that the large chunks burnt for some time and with a generous amount of heat.

The last few days that we have been doing these meetings we've said nothing about how much of both we have. Winter will be here someday relatively soon. It's already near the end of Spring...that gives us only two more seasons...that's about two hundred or something days. If it's not brought up I will, I don't want to freeze...or starve. Nothing grows when it snows, we all know that. We need to prepare better than we did last time.

Sybil sat down and clapped her hands.

“Well everyone. Let's not let our hard work go to waste. Please, eat up.”

Verona did not hesitate once given the go ahead. Within a few moments she had already started to dig into her food. Flavour exploded in hour mouth, but something felt a little wrong.

Jeff was trying to speak but everyone else was focused on the meals infront of him.

Verona knew that Jeff treated her with respect, although it felt like it was based on her magical and destructive ability now that Anton was gone. He tried to start again but realised that nobody except Verona was really paying him much attention.

“Perhaps we should finish our meals first, then discuss what's on today's meeting.” Verona said quite loudly.

Everyone looked to her, somewhat surprised. She, at least until today, had always been the one to remain quiet and wait for someone to talk to her.

They realised where she was looking. Most looked quite embarrassed.

“I think that's a good idea, Verona.” Bertram said, perhaps the most embarrassed as he had ignored his son for food. “Perhaps we should wait until we finished our meals.”

Jeff smiled, giving Verona an appreciative nod, then returning to the plate of food infront of him.

I think this is why Anton chose to have it inside, and wait until anything related to food was done. So we would not be distracted....Maybe that's why he had us meet inside? So we would be focused on one thing at a time. It would be bad it we were distracted we might make a bad decision.

Verona could not be sure, as Anton was not around to ask, but it seemed like a plausible idea.

They continued to eat in silence, Verona taking her time to enjoy the flavours and textures of the food.

When they were finished Verona helped Sam and Sybil clear the table. They took them back inside the Main Hall and returned to the table.

Bertram coughed again, to start the meeting properly.

“Well, I think we should begin properly.” he said, throwing a sheepish look to his son. He seemed not to mind.

“Jeff, since you were starting, so why don't you start us off.”

“Thanks.” Jeff shuffled in his wooden chair to get more comfortable. “Some of the guards on the southern and eastern walls have been seeing something moving on the horizon late at night.”

“Goblins?” Sybil asked.

“Or those Kobolds?” Sam asked.

Jeff shrugged.

“Not sure. They're very far away. And there's so little light at the time we can't really tell.”

“That is very concerning.” Jonathan said. It looked like, to Verona, that he was worrying about his children the most.

“Yes it.” Jeff nodded. “So I was thinking of getting some of our horses...mounted soldiers, and sending them on a scouting mission south to get see what they are.”

Verona frowned. The last thing they wanted to do was to attract attention to themselves, especially with a huge city overflowing with Green Goblins just a few days to the south.

“I...I don't think that's a good idea.” Verona said relatively quietly.

It was loud enough to get their complete attention. Nobody said anything as they all looked at her. A sense of nervousness and apprehension overcame her. She never had everybody look at her for her words before. A small bead of sweat began to run down her temple.

Is this what everyone feels like when they are the centre of attention, and about to tell someone that their idea is wrong? It feels quite terrible. But I must keep going.

She coughed and moved her chair forward.

“If what the other soldiers saw are Goblins or Kobolds, we should not try and go after them. If they are roaming about then they haven't spotted us yet. Both of them are not meant to have very good eyesight. We all saw how close the Kobolds had to get before they could tell where we were.”

She stopped but found that everyone was still waiting and listening to her. Jeff did not look angry as he remained quiet and waited patiently.

“The Kobolds are just meant to roam aimlessly, and the Goblins...they've been hold up in the capital for quite some time...by the way, what is the name of that place?”

Verona looked around.

“I've only ever heard it as the 'Capital'.”

“The capital is called Surdon.” Sybil explained. “I think it's odd that we haven't talked about its name either.”

“Anyway, the Goblins in Surdon should be left alone.”

Jeff opened to speak but Verona cut him off.

“The last thing we want is for the scouts to get lost or alert them to our presence. Dana got ambushed by a group of those things, creatures we all thought were stupid...I have no intention of going through what the she and the other women in that cave went through.”

Jeff appeared to relent. While he had not seen what happened, he must have heard the stories by now. And she had seen it first hand. The looks of hopelessness and regret on their faces, and the joy and relief that they had just before Anton had put them out of their misery. She did not want anyone to find her like that.

“I must agree with Verona.” Zac said. On most of the meetings he was very quiet, only speaking when it involved him directly. It was quite an odd thing to hear.

“I do to.” Jonathan said.

Sam, Sybil and Bertram nodded as well. Avery remained silent but appeared to agree as well.

Jeff looked a little uncomfortable as he began to speak again.

“Very well. My idea-”

“It's not a bad one.” Verona said, trying to cheer him up. “We should definitely keep a better watch and hope that they don't come much closer.”

It was the best that she could think up, having just squashed his idea.

He nodded and looked down for a moment in deep thought before looking back up.

“Avery, after this is done we'll need to work on getting a better lookout for the city.”

“Right.” Avery replied in his usual cold demeanour.

“Have you got any more people trained in archery?” Bertram asked.

Avery shrugged lightly.

“I do, but we don't have enough bows or crossbows for everyone. The ones we have are old and quite worn.”

“Anton should bring some more back with him.” Verona added. “He knows how lacking we are in ranged weapons.”

Avery nodded and grunted.

“Good. If there are any more attacks we are going to need them.”

“Exactly why we need to remain as small and hidden as possible until we get them.” Verona responded.

Avery nodded again and looked satisfied with the answer.

With Jeff satisfied, although somewhat annoyed that his stance of investigating the figures lurking at the horizon had been stopped out of concerns of alerting their comrades, they moved onto the next piece to be covered.

"Zac. Jonathan." Bertram began, "How are you both going?"

They both looked at each other, Jonathan was the first to speak.

"I am doing very well with my new forge, and with the items that Anton and you got for me."

He directed that last part to Verona, who nodded in return.

"I've got a few more people to help out and we are also smelting the iron ore into workable iron. There's quite a bit. That is taking longer than I thought it would be are making good progress. Soon every fighting villager will have a new weapon and some basic metal armour."

"What about Anton's special thing?" Verona asked. She had not heard of how it was going since Anton left. As she was privy to Anton drawing and designing it, whatever a hand cannon really was, she suspected that they now needed some sort of powder to really make it work.

"Without Anton getting the necessary components in Maxill, there is little to nothing that can be done."

Verona nodded. She suspected she already knew what Jonathan was going to say but just wanted to hear it. A few people on the council looked at the both of them oddly. They had no idea as to what Anton was planning to build.

"And what of you?" Sybil asked Zac.

"If I'm honest, we could be doing better."

Oh? That not something I would have expected you to say... Wouldn't I? I really don't know you all that well to know what you would say.

Zac was unaware of Verona's metal musings and continued.

"As Jonathan said, his new smithy is complete and quite a few more barns and other buildings are complete. The second wall is taking a bit more time than we expected. It's mostly built in some areas, especially the south..."

Well, it is going to be higher and more strongly built. And since it runs around the other wall it will be much larger. But surely you would have known that?

"Anton taking those carts slowed us down a bit."

"It was three carts." Verona said with some exasperation. "That can't have slowed you down that much, we still have quite a few working here."

Zac grumbled something, coughing to regain his composure. Everyone was looking between them. Verona did not want to start a verbal fight but trying to blame it on Anton, who left the relative safety of the village to get more people and supplies, a man that was not even born in this world, was a bit much.

He mumbled something like an apology, one which Verona accepted, but she did not want to leave it like this.

"So, what is the problem?"

Zac sighed.

"I really don't have enough workers in the quarry." He admitted. "Before, we were just able to take the rocks on the surface, smash them up, and use those for the wall. Since the wall will be needing to be bigger and stronger we need the stones need to fit very closely, and we don't have the proper tools for that, so it's taking some time to get them roughly right. We had broken apart the large ones on the surface for the first wall, but they're all gone. Now we are having to start to dig down into the dirt so it's slowing us down."

Verona was not going to ask if he had told Anton, before he left, that he needed better stone carving tools.

"What about the miners working at the base of the mountain?" Sybil asked, Bertram nodding in agreement.

"They are very busy digging up coal and iron. There's quite a bit of dirt to dig up as well, it's not all ore. So they have to work hard for what we get already. I can't spare them yet."

Zac leant back into his chair, she could not see much of his face beyond the beard. Secretly she wished that Anton would come back without his beard. She liked it when they were just little prickles.

"But, despite my grumbling, we are doing okay. The basic parts of the wall are complete and it's fully built on the southern half."

He turned to Jeff.

"Just in case those Goblins or Kobolds or whatever else tries to attack us."

"That's very good." Jeff said. Verona did not miss the hint of pride on Zac's face.

"Houses are going up pretty quickly too. They are very bare and minimum but they'll keep the rain and the wind out. Since Anton left we have enough room for two hundred more people."

If Anton brings only that many more people. I get the feeling that he'll try and get as many as he can. And with that woman... Duchess Belinda like she was, captivated by money the moment she saw it, he should be able to bring quite a few.

"What if Anton brings more than that?" Verona asked. "He's not someone that will act slowly with these sort of things."

"Speaking from experience?" Sam quipped loudly, Verona flushing a little in response.

The others laughed, Verona joining in as well. It was true that their relationship had progressed quickly so there was no reason to be embarrassed by it, regardless of how it felt when it was put out for all to see.

"But seriously, what if there are more than two or three hundred people?"

"That would be a lot of people to buy at once." Bertram said, rubbing his chin.

"If it's any more than four hundred they will have to share some of the old houses." Zac said.

"Considering what they had back in Maxill, I don't think they will complain." Verona added.

The others had not seen the terrible state the bondsmen were in. Having food was enough for most of them to be happy.

"It's just that..." Verona continued.

She was finding it hard to put it into the right words.

"Those new houses are in the... Second ring, right?"

She did not like to have to use the same phrase to describe this as the separation of rich and poor in Maxill. She hoped it would never come to that.

Zac nodded.

"We tore down most of the destroyed buildings and that made the first wall as small as possible. We didn't have that much time."

"Well, since the second wall is not finished and probably won't be by the time Anton gets back...Won't they feel a little bad being put there?"

Mostly she received frowns of confusion.

"You're worried that they might think they are some sort of meat shield..." Avery said in his dry way, "Like they are there to stop beasts and monsters getting at us."

Verona scratched the back of her head nervously.

"Yeah. It's just a thought, that they may not like that."

Bertram looked to Zac who shook his head apologetically.

"There's no way we could get it done before then. The rest of the wall still needs work."

"I don't think there's a lot we can do about that except have more guards on the southern wall until it is complete." Bertram said with a sigh. "But thank you Verona for bringing it up."

She found herself smiling. It felt good to contribute, even if there was little they could do with the information.

"I think that that covers most things." Bertram began. "With that-"

"Hang on." Verona spluttered out as the others were beginning to rise out of their chairs.

Guess now is as good as a time as any to ask about the food and heating for winter.

"I have another thing to bring up," Verona said, "For the past few days I really haven't heard much about how we are going in relation to supplies, things like food and wood for winter. It'll take us by surprise if we let it and I don't want to freeze."

The faces at her looked surprised, surprised that she was thinking and worrying about something so far away. She had just talked about the potential problems with the new people but thinking about this, which did not involve Anton, seemed to be a big leap for them mentally. Her face flushed slightly but she forced it back down. She was not going to be seen as just a side piece of Anton, but a respected, thoughtful woman in her own right.

After getting over their initial shock, all eyes turned to Sybil and Bertram. They were in charge of the keeping control of supplies within the village.

Sybil, as Verona had mentioned the food first, spoke first.

"The villagers that are helping with the farming are doing very well. This morning we have brought in the full harvest of wheat, potatoes, carrots and the new tomatoes. We're having to move the fields outside the walls as Zac's builds the houses within the safety of the walls."

"Sounds good." Verona said quietly, realising that she had actually spoken aloud. Nobody heard, or acknowledged it, to her relief.

"A few more days and the nut trees over east will be ready to harvest too. We'll be keeping them inside the walls."

She looked to Verona, but Verona did not know what she was looking for. Approval or something else?

In these situations Anton would just keep going. Better to not let someone get stuck down and let the silence sink in.

"That's good to hear," Verona said, the others nodding as well. It felt odd to her that already she was leading the conversation.

Things can change quickly.

"And how long will what we have last? If something goes wrong." Verona asked.

Sybil closed her eyes for a moment.

"With the number of people that we have, and as long as we don't over eat and ration it carefully, we should make it to the end of summer with no problems if we couldn't get any more from today."

I guess that we can just wait inside the walls safely if those things on the horizon do attack. When Anton gets back...

She shook her head, the others seemingly not noticing. While she did want him back, it felt wrong that she should still be so dependent. Even though it was probably right to wait, having everything relying of Anton was a bit much for him. This was why she had to do better.

"Zac is also building us a smoking room over on the southern side." Sybil continued.

Verona looked over and Zac nodded in confirmation.

"When that's built..."

"A few more days. Most of the builders are busy on the walls and houses. We will get it done though."

Verona was about to ask what a smoking room was but Sybil came to her rescue.

"The smoking room will allow us to cure and keep meat for a very long time. So we don’t have to go out every day and hunt some Razor pigs."

"Razor pig meat whenever we want without it going bad?"

Sybil nodded.

"That's wonderful." Verona said, clapping her hands. "Any potential food problems have been sorted before they emerged."

She turned to Bertram, who had been very quiet recently.

"Since we're on the topic...There are a few small barns throughout Atros where wood has been stored in readiness for the winter."

"What about the coal that the new miners are bringing up?" Verona asked.

She had not seen the mines for herself, something she should probably do since she had quite a bit of free time. What she had heard of it was that it was producing quite a bit of coal, more than Jonathan needed for his old or new forge.

"The coal that Jonathan is not using straight away is being stored in an nearby barn. We don't have enough to heat us through the winter but given some time we will."

"No more shivering through the cold." Sam said happily. "It makes a change."

The others smiled at Sam. It was incredibly cold last winter and Verona had to endure it underneath a table with a cloth draped over the outside for protection. It did not really work. It was the main reason of why she was so ill when Anton arrived. According to him she required quite a bit of mana to be healed.

"That's really good to know. Thank you." Verona spoke as sincerely as possible.

She did not know if it was conveyed properly but Bertram and Sybil smiled and gave a polite nod. Hopefully they could forgive her for implying they may not have been doing their job.

"I think now that is everything..." Bertram looked around and saw that nobody objected. "In that case, the council meeting is over."

---[]---

The council meeting was finally called to an end.

Verona felt that it had gone very well; she had paid attention during the meeting and had even, seemingly, changed their opinions of her from being Anton's attachment to a respected and thoughtful individual in her own right.

As she helped Sam move the table and chairs back inside she let out a sigh.

It's just a pity that I really didn't notice it before. I need to keep thinking for myself.

“Why are you sighing Verona?” Sam asked as she put down the last chair along with Verona, “I think you did very well.”

Verona smiled.

“I think I did. Before I just sort of sat there.” She began to explain. “Even when I was at the Duchess's mansion I really did nothing...maybe give Anton's story a bit more credibility.”

They both started walking to the door and out of the building.

“It kind of feels good. You know...actively contributing.”

Sam shrugged as she opened the door and stepped outside.

“I really don't know about that. I just try and keep up with it all.”

Verona chuckled, Sam smiling in return.

“There must be something that you do?” Verona asked.

Sam shrugged.

“I do my best to teach the women and girls how to fight properly. Jeff says I've got a small group of all women soldiers that looked up to me.” she replied. “If only the men fought when those Yellow Goblins attacked, and the women stayed back, we'd all be dead. And it'll help keep...unwanted attention off us...”

She stared into Verona's eyes, Verona feeling a little uneasy about the way she did so. It was not the usual one of trying to tease or agitate her, it was something else.

“You could have used that before....before Anton arrived.”

“Oh.” was all Verona could answer with.

She understood all too well.

“Yeah. I could have used that.” Verona continued as she leant against the outside wall of the Main Hall.

“Sorry. I-”

“No. No.” Verona stopped her from apologising. “It's fine.”

They both turned their attention out to the rapid movement of the plaza. The villagers were in the middle of cleaning up from lunch, with most of the tables and chairs already moved back into the buildings.

“If only we had worked together from the beginning.” Sam lamented.

“Yeah.”

Sam smiled as she scratched the back of her head.

“Speaking of men,” Sam continued, “I see one lurking around right now.”

Sam nodded out to the plaza. Out there stood Jonathan, looking a little lost.

Ever since the new smithy had been built on the eastern side of Atros, he had looked a lot happier. Now he was able to make many more swords and metal shields than he had before. It was partially due to the new and expanded smithy but mainly down to Jonathan understanding and utilising the strange items that they had bought in Maxill. Verona had asked once what they were, Jonathan had answered in quite detailed terms but it baffled her. She understood it so far as it utilised Earth Mana to make the fire more hot, but beyond that he might have well been talking gibberish.

Though now why he was looking like that was quite confusing for Verona.

“What are you doing Jonathan?” Sam asked.

Jonathan turned and smiled as he made his way towards them.

“Hello Sam, Verona.” he said with a nod. “Um...have you seen my children?”

He was looking a little panicked.

“They were sitting with the other children during lunch and now they have disappeared on me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “This is not the first time they have done something like this.”

“How long is it before they usually come back?” Verona asked. She had not known his children to wander off, perhaps he had always managed to keep an eye on them or get them back before he needed to ask for help.

“Usually it is not long but I promised that I would start teaching them how to be smiths.”

Verona and Sam cocked their heads.

“Oh, Anton said I should at least ask if Shawn and Joclyn wanted to learn. So yesterday I did.”

A smile graced his face.

“I was really surprised. Most people do not really want have to work so hard over a blazing fire, with soot and ash and sparks flying in the air.”

“I'll have a look at your old smithy, you might want to check your new one, they might be there waiting for you.” Verona said, getting off the wall of the Main Hall, “You guys still live there?”

Jonathan nodded.

“We expanded our home when we moved the smithy,” Jonathan explained, “Now we have separate rooms.”

“I guess that would be hard, with two growing children.” Sam added, Jonathan nodding.

“Oh, when your kids have been found, can I see you about upgrading my chest armour?” Verona asked.

“What's wrong with it?”

“It can be a little difficult to do up if it's just me.” Verona said, turning side on to Jonathan so he could see the leather straps that held it tight.

“I really do not know what I can do to make it easier,” Jonathan admitted, “I suppose I could have a look at making the clasps a little easier to work with. But that would be about all I could do.”

“That'll be great. I'll get going then. See you later Sam.”

Verona gave her a little wave, which was returned as she started walking to the south. Jonathan looked a little better as he headed towards the new smithy.

Her boots, the ones she had received from Maxill, thumped against the solid stone pathway. When they were new they hurt her feet, something she had kept quiet to Anton as they were a rather good improvement than walking barefoot.

They were far better made than what most people had to wear. She glanced down at the feet of passing villagers. Most were simple wraps of leather, crudely fashioned into something that resembled her boots, or went barefoot.

Is that another thing? That I have better stuff than they do? That I'm being pampered?

It was just another question that she really had no answer for.

The villagers did give her some space as she passed. She could tell that they made an effort not to get in her way, especially her right side which she held her spear in.

It bothered her but she pushed it out of her mind. Being angry about that would only make it show on her face and might make things even worse.

She finally made it to Jonathan's old smithy, the only thing that distinguished it from the rest of the village was the large smoke stack and the fresh wood which had been used to enclose the house. It seemed they would have quite a bit of room in there now. When Verona had gotten her armour it seemed that it was very cramped, having three people and precious equipment inside a very small room.

The new door to their house was slightly ajar. Verona moved up and knocked on the side of the door, it would be very rude to just enter somebodies house without permission.

There was a sound inside, like something had just been put down.

“Hello?” Verona asked quietly as she poked her head through the door.

While it would be rude to fully enter, she reasoned that it would be alright just to have a peak through to see what was happening. If it was something like a thief she would have to step in and intervene.

A small pattering of feet and a small head emerged from the relative darkness of the room. It was one of Jonathan's children, although both Shawn and Joclyn looked very similar to her.

“Hello Aunt Verona.” came a higher pitched voice, it was Joclyn in her usual calm voice.

I'm not old enough to be an Aunt...Am I?

“Hello Joclyn,” Verona said as she leant down slightly to look her in the eyes. They looked back with a fierce intensity, one that would probably be more appropriate on her more outgoing brother.

“You know your father has been looking for you both?”

A stunned look flashed over her face.

“We...We just went to the new smithy and Dad wasn't there,” Joclyn explained, “So we came back here to get some stuff.”

“Did we miss Dad?” came another voice, it was Shawn. He was some much more lively and outgoing than his sister.

“Yeah.” Verona said while straightening up. “He was just looking for you in the main plaza area, he didn't look that good that he couldn't find you.”

They both looked at each-other, a little sad and sorry at what they had inadvertently done to their father.

“It's okay,” Verona began, trying to improve their spirits. “He's waiting at the new smithy. I'll take you there.”

Verona peered her head in further.

“What were you looking for anyway?”

Shawn looked a little uncomfortable.

“Some of Dad's old stuff. He likes to keep it here, just in case something goes wrong. We thought it would be a good idea to get it. Since we'll be blacksmiths one day.”

Shawn looked to Joclyn, both of them nodded enthusiastically to Verona. They seemed quite happy to be taught such a demanding and dirty art, one that was entirely necessary for their survival.

Verona clapped her hands.

“Well, let's get the stuff and head over there. I don't want to keep your dad waiting.”

Joclyn opened the door and let Verona inside. On the floor was a small pile of thick, dirty clothes and some thick leather gloves. Verona did not have the heart to tell them that they would be too big for them. They would look quite silly on them, with the clothes brushing against the ground.

Nevertheless she bent down and picked up what she could with her free left hand, the rest picked up by the children.

Verona made sure that they closed the door before making their way over to the new smithy on the east. The last thing she wanted to do today was to explain to Jonathan why their house had been raided.

That reminds me, I don't know what the punishment for theft is. Whatever it is, I'm glad I didn't have it happen to me before we fixed everything...I stole quite a bit of food to survive. I think we all did really. Jonathan might know, I should ask him.

As they started down the path to the centre of the village, Shawn moved infront. He turned himself backwards so he could look at Verona while he continued to walk.

“So, when are you and Anton expecting a baby?”

Verona was taken aback by the frankness of his question.

“Uhh, not for a little bit. There's still a lot of work that we need to get done before we settle down for something like that.”

“Right. So when are they all coming back? There was that one with the funny eyes.”

That must be Kal.

“By now they should be on the return trip.” Verona answered. “Hopefully they'll bring back lots of stuff like they did last time. Some of those things helped your father quite a lot.”

“Will there be any food from past the forest?”

“Um...I don't think so. They looked like they needed all the food they could get.”

“That's annoying. I was thinking we might be getting some presents or something...”

Oh, that would be good. Something from each trip.

“I'll talk to Anton when I see him and see what he has to say.”

Shawn nodded and resumed walking the right way. He seemed satisfied by the answer. Joclyn continued to look at her but she could not get anything out of her no matter what she tried. After that they walked in silence the whole way, Verona feeling a little uncomfortable from the somewhat hostile stare from Joclyn.

---[]---

Verona had not actually seen the new smithy since it had been completed. It was only finished a few days ago and Jonathan and Zac, as well as a few of his builders, had been working quite hard on the finishing touches.

It looked very impressive, not that Verona had seen another smithy before.

Overall it looked very similar to Jonathan's old smithy. This one was easily three or four times larger with a larger central fire. There was some strange looking structures within the smithy itself, ones which Verona guessed with involved with the smelting of the raw iron ore.

Just outside was a very anxious looking Jonathan. The moment he spotted Shawn and Joclyn his face lit up in relief. He ran over, dropping a large hammer onto the solid dirt ground.

He picked them up with one hand and brought them into a hug, uncaring that his children were still carrying things. Shawn and Joclyn squeaked as they embraced their father in return.

“Where did you two go?” he asked, trying to hold back his emotions.

“It seems that you guys just missed each other.” Verona said.

Jonathan threw her a quizzical glance.

“It seems that after lunch they headed straight over here, while we were still at the council meeting. When they realised that you weren't here they headed back to your house, when you first came here. It seems like they went behind the Main Hall, where that Karak tree thing is, and missed you going through the central plaza where we found you.”

Jonathan and the children looked at each-other.

“It looks like you just missed each-other.” Verona finished, shrugging.

“Well, regardless I'm glad you found them.” Jonathan said as he put his children down.

“Were you really that worried about them going missing?” Verona asked, genuinely interested.

Jonathan nodded.

“After my wife died, they are all I have left. So I want to make sure they are safe.”

He tussled their hair, something that Anton did to her since they first met. It was something simple but always made her feel safe, now making her miss Anton more than ever.

“Well, they're here now,” Verona started, “So can you have a look at my armour?”

She turned side on to remind him what she was talking about.

“I'll give it a look, at least make sure that everything is moving as well as it can.”

“Thanks.” Verona replied. “Just let me take it off.”

Jonathan nodded and moved inside the smithy along with his children. He started speaking to his children, both moving to the large bellows near the central furnace. They both started to move the end up and down, the centre of the fire starting to pulse with heat in time with the sound of wind. Verona realised that he must have other work to do.

There was a large crate outside the smithy, one that Verona could hop onto easily.

She moved and sat upon it. Raising her arm she started to undo the metal clips on that side with her free hand. She could not twist her other arm to help so she only had one hand. It was difficult, but not impossible, the clips slowly coming loose with some twisting and jiggling. They squeaked as the metal parts moved, a sure sign that they would need to be looked at.

But she was wondering what she actually expected Jonathan to do.

She had no idea as to what a better way would be. Anton might have an idea of something from his world. But the stories he had told her, the ones with fantastical and unbelievable contraptions, did not apply here. She understood that with some of Anton's more fanciful designs that he had shown Jonathan. It would be many, many winters of hard work before they could make something like he wanted.

Forcing her mind back to the task at hand, she had at least thought of something that might be improved. The metal clips could get a little stiff, especially when trying to loosen them. Finding a way to make them move more easily without sliding off in the thick of battle would be good enough.

Perhaps putting a pin through the leather strap, one that could hold it in place without it being so complicated? That might work, although Jonathan is probably more than busy enough without having to fuss around something so small.

She glanced around into the smithy and saw piles of swords, spears and metal adorned shields lying around.

I really don't want to take much time up. I feel kind of bad that I'm making an issue of this. It's a fine piece of armour, I just want it looked at.

With one side completely free she split the chest piece and freed it from her body.

There was a sense of relief as it came loose. While it kept her safe, the many scratches and white marks on the dark brown leather testament to its strength, it also did a many other things.

Now that it was off she felt the weight of her breasts, something that was supported by the armour.

“They really are huge.” Verona muttered to herself.

They were so large that they spilled out from her hands when she tried to hold them. More annoying, especially now that she was a fighter, was that they hurt when she ran and moved quickly and violently to strike. With the armour it was greatly reduced, barely noticeable now.

As she lay the chest armour piece on her lap she noticed that she was already hunching forward slightly. It was something that she had found herself doing before getting the armour. She was not as confident in herself and knew that they drew attention, a lot of unwanted attention.

Sam and her friend seemed jealous. Knowing that they could elicit such a response made her feel oddly proud in them.

It would be better if they were a little smaller, but Anton likes them, so I guess they're fine.

Her thoughts were stopped by movement from her side.

Joclyn came out of the smithy and looked straight at Verona, specifically at her chest. She could see the look on her face. One of annoyance.

“Dad said that he's ready.”

She walked away in a huff. Verona sighed as she picked up the armour underneath her arm and went inside.

Already she could feel the heat from the forge in the centre, the glow alone almost making her start to sweat. Jonathan and Shawn were standing near the pile of weapons, talking about something. There were a slight roar from the wind and fire that drowned out the noise.

“She's ready.” Joclyn said, still quite annoyed.

I know what that look is, but I didn't make these that big. What was your mother like? I shouldn't ask right now. Besides, you're young and have a lot more growing to do.

“Ah, good.” Jonathan said, walking towards her.

She saw his eyes glance down at her chest before taking the armour. As he walked away to a large table, she looked down as well.

The shirt she wore was a new one that she had received from Sybil, one that did not show off any of her skin below her neck. Verona reasoned that he must have just imagined what they were like. She found herself mentally rolling her eyes though she was not exactly sure why. It was certainly not the time to ask about his former wife.

“Think you can do anything?” Verona asked. “I don't want to take up too much of your time, it looks like you have heaps of work to do.”

She looked at the pile of weapons and so did they.

“We do, but this will not take too long.” Jonathan answered.

He fiddled with the metal clips, frowning as the squeaked in his hands.

“I suppose I can fix this.” he said as he moved towards the back of the smithy. “It might make it a little easier to use if it's not so stiff.”

“You have something for that?”

Jonathan nodded.

“I have some freshly made Merak oil that should do the trick. I will give you a little in a pot for later.”

“What's that?” Verona asked, walking inside the smithy.

“It...remember those blue flowers that you had outside your old house?”

Verona nodded.

“Well, Sybil and some of the other elderly have started growing them and harvesting the flowers. The flower head is quite large and when it is crushed, this oil starts to come out. Not that much from each flower, but they are starting to grow some small patches of it infront of some of the houses.”

“Is that like the stuff that we set fire to in the mountain?”

Verona turned and looked towards the looming mountain in the distance. Nothing of what happened in that place was any sort of good, nothing that she wanted to remember. The looks upon the faces of the women as Anton put them out of their misery. And the smoke that followed afterwards, billowing out of the many cracks and crevices of the mountain. Knowing that those wretched Yellow Goblins had suffocated while clawing for a single breath of fresh air.

Thinking deeply about it made her feel cold and sick. At the time, thinking back on it, she was glad that she was more worried about Anton than herself. The less she thought about it the better.

“I don't know what it was that you found in there-”

“It was this really thick and black stuff that they had in large barrels. I think Anton called it Tar.”

Jonathan looked a little perplexed but did not let it bother him. He, and most of the people on the council, knew that he was from another world. Anything odd that he did could easily be dismissed as part of that.

“That would not be good for this, I think it will be too thick and sticky.”

Jonathan picked up a small clay jar, like the one that Verona kept tied to her waist, and dipped his finger in. When he removed it, it was covered in a slightly yellow looking fluid.

“This will keep those things from gripping when they're not meant to...hopefully.”

He began dunking the metal clips in the oil one at a time. When he was done he used a rag to remove the excess oil.

As he walked over he moved the clips back and forth, the squeaking noise was gone.

“There. That should be good now.” he said as he handed her the chest piece and the small pot of oil.

“Thanks Jonathan.” she said as she took it back and put it loosely on herself.

She began to refasten the metal clips. They did not squeak or dig into her fingers, it was a great improvement.

“This is much better. How good are you at making tiny straight pieces of metal?”

Jonathan shrugged.

“I suppose as good as any other blacksmith. Not that there are any left in the village. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking about using something like that to make pins that go through the leather for the straps, rather than what I've currently got. Basically just a piece of string, like most of the people around here.”

“I could, but...” he looked to the piles of weapons. “I have-”

“That's fine. An idea for later then.”

“Once Shawn and Joclyn become proper smiths I'll have time to try some new things like that.”

“Thanks Jonathan. I've taken up more than enough of your time, I'll leave you to it.”

Verona bowed her head slightly, Jonathan smiling in return. As she started to walk away she stopped.

I should ask about the punishment for things like theft, he might know.

“Jonathan, one last thing.”

She turned and found that he was already about to start working on a sword. His children had dressed themselves up in his old gear, comically too large. It took a bit not to stare or break out into a chuckle.

“What do you know about the punishment for things like theft?”

Jonathan stopped and looked up for a while.

“It has been a while since we actually dealt with that sort of stuff in an organised way. I think that Sybil or Bertram would know what it was like, they were both involved with the old Kar Kingdom before it collapsed. They would know.”

“Okay, well thanks Jonathan, for both things. Have a good day!”

She shouted it back as she started back towards the central plaza, Jonathan and his children waved to her before turning their attention to the forge. It was barely a few steps later before she heard the clanging sound of metal striking metal. She knew they would be working until late.

---[]---

Verona arrived outside one of the large barns encircling the central plaza to find Sybil directing people inside. They were carrying wooden boxes and crates between them. By the looks of things they were carrying in food, hopefully ones that would last the winter. She could see things that looked like nuts and wheat, things that would last a very long time in the shelter. So long as rats and the like did not get into it.

Sybil saw her approach and waved her over.

“Hello Sybil,” Verona began as she approached, “I haven't seen this much activity in a while.”

She nodded towards the crates still entering the barn. With its large doors wide open she could see many boxes inside already. Some villagers were hammering wooden tops onto the crates.

“Getting ready for the winter?” she asked.

Sybil smiled and nodded, gesturing to a small wooden chair nearby. It appeared to be hers. Her age, however old she actually was, must tire her out quickly. She took the chair while Verona stood nearby.

“How can I help?” she asked, her wrinkled face becoming even more so as she smiled up at her. “I don't have many of my old clothes left.

“It's not that.” Verona replied, “With everything that's happening now, I was wondering what the punishment for stealing was?”

Sybil looked at her with a odd expression.

“Why? Have you stolen something?” she asked, “I think we all agreed that everything that happened before was to be forgotten...”

She was waiting for Verona to continue.

“Well, I was thinking, that since Anton will be trying to bring so many more people from Maxill...they may not be the best people.”

Sybil looked oddly at her.

“Raston and the other bondsmen from Maxill are settling in very well. There haven't been any problems with them, at least my son says so.”

“That may be so, but they had the Kobolds attack on their first day here. They know what it is like and they saw how we deal with those horrific creatures.”

Goblins were not the only thing that made her blood boil. The Kobolds wanted to sack the city and probably kill everyone, at least according to Kal. She herself had never seen one before so she only had to go on by what she saw and it seemed to match up. They had been added to the list of things that made her furious, just below the Yellow Goblins.

“True-”

“But the new ones that Anton will bring won't know that. They may not respect us, and try to do their own thing and not help everyone.”

Verona squatted down, Sybil no longer had to strain her neck on her slopped back.

“And you didn't see Maxill. They had this...look in their eyes. If we had been walking...well, I know that I would have been attacked.”

Sybil frowned. She understood what that meant.

“It's the new ones that I'm worried about, if the Duchess decides to give us some of those bad ones. So I was wondering what the punishment was for committing crimes?”

Sybil looked up at the sky. The clouds were slowly growing in the otherwise blue sky, not enough for it to be rain thankfully. Being couped up in their house, alone, for days with nothing to do did not appeal to her.

“Well, the last marshal that we had was old Maxie, but he died...almost, well, before you were born. So it's been a while since we had someone like that.”

“I should have brought it up at the meeting.” Verona said, somewhat saddened.

Sybil waved her down.

“We can do it next time,” she said as she smiled warmly at Verona, “I'm glad that you're thinking for yourself.

Was I that bad? Or did I just let Anton make the decisions and just go along with it?

Verona coughed awkwardly. “Well, that aside, what would the punishment be? From the old Kar Kingdom. For something like stealing?”

“It really depends on what was stolen.” Sybil began to explain, “If it was a piece of bread to feed a starving family, probably a light beating. If they did it again they would loose a finger.”

Glad I didn't get that then, I don't like receiving pain at the best of times. Wait, Anton is missing a finger, did he steal something back in his world?

“And for something more serious?”

“Back when coins were of some use, stealing them would have lost a hand. Second time, the other. Third time and they would be hanged. Something like murder, once proven, was also hanging.”

“Wow.” Verona said, standing back up, “I don't think many people would have had to of done it for them to learn.”

Sybil nodded.

“Only one or two every winter or so in the big cities. People would forget or think they could get away with it.”

I wonder what Anton's world was like in regards to things like this. Was it lighter or more harsh?

“I think we should get somebody to start being the new Marshal...or whatever the proper name is. Show anybody new that we take order very seriously.”

“Any idea on who should do that?” Sybil asked, “My son cannot do everything.”

“I...I don't know. We would need someone that won't become bad or corrupt. That's all I really know.”

Sybil looked up in thought.

“I might have a few ideas. I'll talk with Bertram and Jeff and see what they come up with. Tomorrow we'll get them on the council and talk about-”

A horn blew from the south, Verona instantly recognising the short and sharp tone. It had only been blown once before.

Her hand tightened on the shaft of the spear out of reflex. There was going to be a battle. But with what?

She glanced back at Sybil, seeing the fear and apprehension on her face.

“Get everyone that can't fight to safety.” she said to Sybil.

She turned and looked around; some of the villagers were looking completely lost, while most were afraid. Anton, and his devastating magic, was not here and they knew it.

Now there was only one person with magic.

She took a deep breath and shouted.

“Everyone that can fight! To the South! Grab your weapons and armour! Go!”

At the end she felt her voice break, but it seemed to do the trick. Everyone started moving in a flurry of activity. She did not know if they were going to do the right thing, but at least they would be moving.

I hope they actually listen.

She pulled tightly on the leather straps. The did not even budge, despite the oil. She mingled in with the other villagers running to the south, not knowing what was coming.

---[]---

She saw Jeff and Avery already on top of the secondary wall. Avery was yelling in his cold voice, orders for the few archers they had to get in position. It was serious.

As she ran up the stairs Jeff turned and saw her. The look of relief on his face was palpable.

“Thank whichever gods you follow that you are here.” he said as Verona ran up to the parapets, “We'll be needing everything we can get.”

Verona could see just over the top of the second layer of the wall, the parapets were bigger and taller than those on the first wall.

Jeff could see that she would have difficulty in seeing over and said something to Avery. One of the archers appeared immediately with a small wooden box.

Verona thought it was a little much. She was not that much shorter than everyone, but now was not the time to complain.

She stood on top and looked out, towards the bone yard.

Her heart felt like ice as she saw it.

A mass of brown and white was making their way towards them.

Kobolds.

Thousands of them. More than Verona could properly count.

“How many?” she asked, a quiver running through her voice.

“I...I've been trying to count,” Avery started, his usual calm voice also having the same crack as Verona, “And I'm guessing at least four, maybe five thousand.”

Verona could feel the hearts sink of everybody that heard him. These were not like the small and weak Yellow or Green Goblins that died in a single hit, these took several to go down.

And now there were so many more.

Why? Why hasn't this happened in all the winters past? Why now?

A discussion at dinner, the day before Anton left, reared into her mind. One about the Kobold totem, and the force that Anton felt coming from it.

A goddess.

And not one of theirs.

I think it was Nithroel. The elven goddess...and she was meant to hate Anton's prayer goddess, Tethra. If she...

Thoughts quickly swirled around in her head, many of them making no real sense. Her mind cleared in a single moment of realisation.

“It's an attack.” she said loudly.

Jeff and Avery looked to each-other then to Verona.

“Of course it is.” Jeff replied, not sounding very sure of himself.

“No.” Verona shook her head. “It's more than that. You remember the totem in the Kobold camp? The one that Kal said belonged to the Elven Goddess, Nithroel?”

“I...I do.” Jeff stammered.

“Anton's gods and her hate each-other.” Verona said as she crossed her arms, frowning and grimacing at the thought. “And this is an attack from Nithroel, using the Kobolds that worship her.”

She had no real evidence of this but it seemed to fit. Why they attacked now, when Anton would be as far away as possible and when it had been long enough from the last attack for them to relax somewhat.

Jeff looked very unhappy.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

The answer was simple.

“We fight.”

----------

Hello Everybody.

Sorry about the delay. The hectic nature of things has decided to continue for at least this week and it will be longer before it all settles down. So, I've put this one out just so t can get done.

Since it has been so long since the last one, if there are any erros or quality issues, please forgive me. I've gone through it so many times that it's getting annoying.

Anyway, this chapter.

I've tried to show what's happening back at home while Anton is away and trying to get more people for Atros. Also trying to flesh out Verona's character a bit, not sure how I went with that. Things like thinking about things in the place of the larger picture and reigning in more agressive actions they could be taking. Also realising priorities, such as improving her armour would be nice but not a priority when there are weapons and armour pieces to make. Also not liking it when people are grumbling about Anton not being there, but instead of just lashing out, finding out what the underlying problem is and seeing if it can be fixed.

Antoher thing I touched upon was the subject of law and order. Right now everyone is a survivor of the Yellow Goblin sieges, so they're going to be loyal for now. Even though other things

Chapter 035 - Siege and Revelation

Chapter 035:

The Kobolds stopped just before the bone-yard, spreading out like a great tide of brown and white. To Verona's surprise they did not attack straight away. As they spread out they started to build tents and one massive one at the center. They looked exactly like the same as the ones that they had destroyed at the lake.

Could these be the same ones, just another camp that we never destroyed and are now looking for revenge?

Verona leant against the top of the wall, watching and counting. She was adequate at mathematics, able to understand how numbers worked, mostly. Anton had no real trouble with counting to numbers in the thousands and beyond. She reasoned it had to do with how he was brought up in his other world.

After having to cut the sprawling Kobold camp up in her mind so she could get a rough number, she was shocked to know how many there probably were.

A little over six thousand...and we have one thousand. And not all of those can fight...we are seriously outnumbered.

She got off the wall and turned around. The villagers were still in a flurry of activity, preparing whatever they could; wooden spears and javelins, archers preparing as many arrows as they could and the rest finding large rocks to drop or throw.

In the distance the usual small trail of smoke from the new smithy was now thick and black. If she concentrated closely and hard enough she could just make out the clanging of the hammer. He, and anyone else he could recruit, would be working very hard.

Jeff, and to a lesser extent Avery, were doing their best to keep the mood up, but it was very difficult. Verona knew that she had no idea how to do that. Despite the massive enemy numbers she felt oddly calm at seeing the enemy. At first it was shocking but now she had calmed down somewhat. It was probably the knowledge that she had magic, a very odd and terrifying magic, but one that could kill many of the Kobolds.

Nowhere near as many as Anton could.

Sometimes she wished that she had gotten the fire or lightning magic instead, something that Anton could help her understand how to use properly.

This is no time to be thinking like that. I have been neglecting my training with my power...too late to do anything about it now. I'll just have to do the best I can.

She glanced towards the forest to the west.

I really hope I don't have to run that way.

She coughed loudly to distract herself from her slightly defeatist thoughts.

“Jeff?” she asked loudly.

She turned and saw him looking back towards the center. All of the villagers had an eerie calm about them. Just like when the Yellow Goblins attacked in force.

“Are they attacking?” he asked.

Verona shook her head.

“No. Not yet.” she replied.

He seemed glad to be distracted from the other villagers as he lent against the wall and looked out towards the Kobolds.

“What is that?” he said, pointing at the larger tent.

A giant stone pillar slowly started to rise. On top a large stone circle, two antlers surrounding a leaf. The sign of Nithroel.

This is an attack from a goddess. Although it's odd that she would announce that she was the one responsible. Is she extremely confident, arrogant or just stupid?

“Well, I guess we know what we are in for now.” he lamented, trying his best to laugh. But he could not.

Verona clapped her hands.

“Alright Jeff, Anton made sure that you are in charge of our armies.” she turned to him, puzzlement on his face, “So, what's the plan?”

“Well...we should use the walls, like last time, and hold them off.” Jeff replied.

Verona waited, wanting to hear the rest of it, but nothing came.

“And?”

“And what?”

“And the rest of the plan?” Verona asked somewhat angrily.

Jeff just shook his head.

“There really isn't much else of a plan,” he admitted. He was about to continue when Verona cut him off.

“Come on, you must.” she said, somewhat exasperated, “Anton basically put you in charge of all of our soldiers.”

He smiled awkwardly, rapping his fingers on the stone wall.

“I think he just picked me because he could trust me.” he said with a hint of sadness.

She knew exactly what that alluded to.

I'm sorry for having to use your name like this Anton. I hope you can forgive me.

“Well, Anton did.” Verona said as she put her hands on her hips. “So...don't let him down and figure something out!”

There was almost a smirk on his face as he turned and looked back out.

“True.” he said, “But with what we have there's not else that we can do. You could probably kill quite a few by yourself, out there but the rest of us really couldn't do much. We don't have your power and we don't have a lot of armour to protect us.”

He shook his head.

“We're going to have let them come to us and use our advantage of walls and defences to defeat them. Beat them back as many times as we need to.”

“That's better.” Verona smiled as she looked back out to the south.

I don't like that I had to use Anton's name to do that. I hope that he wouldn't mind, but I shouldn't have to. Oh well.

“How long do you think it will be before they attack?” Avery asked. He had stopped organising the villagers and turned his attention to them.

“Honestly, I have no idea why they have not attacked.” Jeff replied, “They could have just attacked, and we wouldn't have had all this.”

He nodded towards the growing pile of improvised weapons.

He's right. They should have.

“Last time they just climbed up each-other.” Verona said, breaking the silence.

The two looked at each-other, then back to her.

“Why build a camp like that then?”

“Waiting for more of them to arrive?” Jeff suggested.

“Perhaps getting ready for a siege?” Avery added.

Both were possible, though they could prove neither.

Verona sighed and looked back out. She knew that her impatience was clear on her face. It was the waiting that irked her the most, knowing that it could happen at any time and they had to wait behind their wall. It was maddening. They could attack at any time, as they were not strong enough to strike at them, yet.

“If we wait until night time, we could sneak a few of us over there and try and take some of them out.” Avery suggested. “Like with the Yellow Goblins.”

Verona shook her head.

“Kal said that they had a very good sense of smell. They'll know we're coming.”

“I'm just offering suggestions.” he said dryly back.

Verona sighed lightly and looked back out.

“I don't think we'll have to worry about that.” she said in a tone trying to mimic Avery's.

She pointed to the camp. It appeared they were not going to wait.

The mass of Kobolds were coming for them.

---[]---

The horn sounded again, the villagers invigorated with another burst of fearful energy. They began tripping over each-other as they began to run up to their position on the walls, Jeff shouting them into position.

Verona watched them in silence as the ran around her. Even now they were keeping some distance from her.

When we start fighting, you'll be thankful that I'm here...and you'll be even more afraid.

She wanted to sigh but found she could not. She watched as the horde spilled out of the bone-yard and began to form a half circle facing their wall.

Most of them were concentrated in the middle of their formation.

Verona found herself wondering if they had a commander or leader for this attack. If there was she would leap in and kill it, hopefully forcing the others to break.

Regardless, there would be fighting and very soon.

They were close enough to see the difference in their faces. All wore the same animal skin clothing and wielded stone tipped wooden spears. None of them had anything like a shield, she could not figure out why they would not have something so basic. Signs of fighting were evident on all of the. Some has massive scars while others had missing teeth, ears and eyes. Perhaps they revelled in the violence.

These were angry too.

But do they know why?

She lit the fire within herself. It was the best way to describe the warm sensation that travelled through her body, different to Anton's magic when he healed her.

Anton, and the others, said her eyes went completely red and glowed like the strange marks on her body. She could see nothing different through her eyes. How strange and scary it must have been for everyone around her.

Looking out the corner of her eye she could see that those closest, that she did not know well, had indeed taken a few steps to the side.

Again she wanted to make a noise, in annoyance, but held back.

She moved her hand over one of the small clay pots that she had on her hips. The ones that she used to store blood.

As she tried to bring it up there was something wrong.

She opened the lid of the pot, realising her colossal mistake.

There was no blood.

Shit. I always get it right before battle. It doesn't even last a day before going bad and then I can't use it.

She turned around and looked over the still moving villagers.

I'll need somebody to take a little from. Somebody that won't freak out.

“Jeff?” she asked, turning off the fire. She did not want to make what she was about to ask any more difficult. Looking straight into her blood red eyes would certainly be distracting.

“Hmm?” he did not look oddly at her, just throwing up a quizzical brow.

“I...um, need some blood to start with. I can't use my own.” Verona explained, as she pulled out a small knife.

On her back she felt the slight pang at the base, where Anton said the tear drop mark that showed what weapon she could use to harvest blood.

“Oh. I'm not really sur-”

“I'll do it.” Came a feminine voice behind him.

Verona peered around and saw Sam behind him. How she had managed to get so close without Verona noticing was something that was quite surprising to her.

“Are you sure?” Verona asked, “I will only need a little from you, the rest I'll take from the Kobolds.”

“Verona, it's fine.” Sam said with a warm smile as she held out her hand.

Jeff looked a little odd at the sight bit remained quiet.

“I'll make sure that Anton heal you completely both when he gets back.” she whimpered apologetically for what she was about to do.

She cut lightly into Sam's finger, just enough to cause some blood to leak out. Verona lit the fire within and drew up the tiny sliver of blood. It felt like somehow she was letting water run through her fingers, but in reverse.

Sam looked quite startled at the sight, Jeff more so.

Anton doesn't have a problem with this...I think that their reaction is normal.

She brought up a half pot full of blood, allowing it to form in a small ball before putting it into the pot. As she turned off the flame her control over the blood faded as well.

“Okay, that should be enough.” Verona said. “You may want to cover that, usually Anton would just heal himself.”

“I thought you might be able to do that, since you can control blood.”

Verona shook her head.

“I could use the blood to hold the wound together but the moment I stopped using my power it would just...”

Verona opened her hands, hoping that it conveyed the message that it would just begin to leak again.

“Ah, shame.” Sam pulled out a thin piece of cloth and wrapped it around her finger. The blood continued to leak out for a moment.

Verona smiled awkwardly as so did Jeff.

“What are they doing?” Verona asked.

She got up on the top of the box and looked out.

The Kobolds were waiting in their crescent moon formation. One moved forward. This one had a few extra pieces of skins on its muzzled face and what appeared to be human ears around its neck.

Before she could speak it pointed its spear towards them. Something in her heart told her it was looking straight at her.

It howled, over and over, louder each time. The howl carried down the ranks of the Kobolds. The sheer noise unsettled the villagers, she could see them start to shake.

The lead Kobold raised both its paws and the howling stopped. It pointed its spear at them again.

Here we go.

The Kobolds howled again and charged.

“Keep your heads everyone! We can win the day!” Jeff yelled. It seemed to help a little.

Avery shouted his archers forward. There were not that many but they would make a difference.

The Kobolds covered the distance faster than the last time they attacked. She did not want to be outside the walls right now.

As they reached the old range markers, Avery yelled at his archers to loose.

The first volley of arrows struck at the wildly charging Kobolds. Like the Yellow Goblins before them, their army was so thick it did not matter if the arrow was not aimed correctly, they found a target.

Shrieks and blood erupted from the brown and white horde.

As Verona feared, it did nothing to stop their ferocious charge. There were far too many.

But, most worryingly, she was not worried.

The sight of all that blood.

It made her excited. Disturbingly excited.

It had started to become very noticeable during the attack on the Kobold camp by the lake. She was not sure that Anton had seen it yet but it was only a matter of time. When she was manipulating the blood it was like she was playing with something so...so beautiful. It was another reason why she felt awkward when using the power.

The Kobolds were very close now, only thirty or forty feet away from the wall.

If I survive, I need to tell Anton.

She lit the fire within and drew up the blood, forming them into tiny daggers. She could easily control thirty of them.

The smaller they were the easier they were to control. These would not be able to cleave the Kobolds in two but they would be enough to tear them to shreds.

With a push of her mana the shards flew forward and smashed into the thickest area of Kobolds. They flew with such force that they punctured their skulls, many falling down only to be trampled on by those behind. The possibility of being impaled on their own poisoned spines as they charged forward seemed not to even arise.

So much blood had been released. So much that she could control.

So much.

She mentally giggled at the prospect as she drew up blood from the slain Kobolds. They glanced back at the streams of blood, from their former comrades, floating up into the air. There was nothing they could do as those behind, and those that did not understand, pushed them forward.

Those at the front crashed into the wall, the villagers throwing everything they could over the side. Rocks and wooden javelins killed many as they started their frantic climb. Their clawed hands easily found cracks and holds in the rough stone wall and they began to haul themselves up.

They really don't have a better plan...do they?

She did not know who she was asking in her mind, it might have been her blood goddess for all she knew.

With the blood under her control she reformed it into a dozen thin and short spears.

Kobolds looked up in utter disbelief. She could see it on their muzzle faces.

She held out one hand, that made it easier to control them with, and pushed them down.

They pierced right through them and into the ground, killing them nearly instantly. It did not matter where she attacked she always found something to hit. With the tiniest pull they freed themselves from the ground. Verona pushed them moved them sideways, up and down into the ground. There was always something to hit.

There was so much blood.

She found herself smiling at the sight of it all.

Another twang came from either side as another volley of arrows was released.

It really made no difference to their numbers. Any that fell were trampled over by the ones behind. Several times she felt her blood spears being trampled into the dirt, she broke them still in its crystal form and used the shards to attack.

As the Kobolds continued to get close to the top of wall Verona pulled all her blood spears back to her. The villagers either side looked very worried, she knew not what at.

I can easily control these things to about thirty or so feet. After that they require quite a bit more energy. I'll do my best to hold them off here.

She held the thin spears vertically, in a line just past the wall, covering nearly thirty feet either side. As the first Kobolds heads and paws made it to the top she threw them down with all her might.

Flesh tore and blood spurted as the spears dug in and pushed them off the wall and into the ground. Only a few Kobolds had managed to avoid it. As she glanced either side she could see the villagers having to start to fight the climbers back. Like a tide they started to pour over in some sections.

“Jeff!” Verona yelled.

He turned and looked, a little stunned by what she was doing.

“I can hold this section. The other parts need you guys more than I do here.” she ordered, “It won't take long before they try somewhere else.”

Jeff nodded. He probably knew that but hearing it from her, who was usually quiet on such things, spurned him into action.

“You and You,” Jeff said as he grabbed a few of the still villagers, “Help them over there!”

He pushed them towards the left. Quite a few Kobolds had made it over and more were coming.

As Jeff grabbed more villagers to help fill in the trouble spots another wave of Kobolds tried to climb at her position. The blood spears were still impaled into the ground. Did they not realise she could just pull them back up and attack again?

With another pull, the spears shot up along the wall and into the climbing Kobolds, this time goring them from beneath. They screamed, in a way that she had not heard before.

A shiver ran through her body. It was not terrible.

It felt good.

Very good.

Holy shit, am I enjoying this?

It was a disturbing thought to say the least, but the mark and the rest of her body burned hot. There was something coming from that mark, incredibly weak, that had been slowly gnawing at her mind ever since the lake.

She pushed it down in the hope that it would not distract her now.

The spears reached the top of the wall. With another burst of mana she shattered the spears into hundreds of tiny shards, effectively freeing them from the bodies. They fell down onto the now hesitant climbing Kobolds. Most ran either side, they would try somewhere else now.

There were more screams, from the Kobolds underneath and the villagers to the side.

On her right there were almost a hundred Kobolds on the wall and many more coming over. They had to be given so much room that some of the villagers were almost falling off the wall. One did, his arms flailing wildly as his feet slipped and his body fell off the edge, his body cracking as he landed on the hard dirt below.

He groaned, at least he was not dead.

“Jeff!” Verona said, finding him stabbing a Kobold in the face as it tried to lunge from the wall at him, “I'm going to help them.”

She was already moving before he could respond. He only gave a tiny nod before turning his attention back to another Kobold. Sam was at his side, looking equally distressed by the situation.

This whole this is not going well.

She ran between the fighting villagers, for once liking her small size. With her power she kept blood shards above their heads so they would not hurt the villagers as she moved through them. When she was close enough she stopped. Tiny puffs of dust came out from underneath her boots.

The blood spears flew forth into the side of the Kobolds. She paid extreme caution so they missed the villagers, some flying just past their heads as they were stunned in shock. Some Kobolds struggled but she pulled back the spears and threw them again.

The villagers looked at her and nodded out of respect. And fear.

There has to a better way.

Another louder set of shouts came from where she had just been standing. The Kobolds had given up where she was currently fighting and merely changed their attention to back there.

She could see them climbing over, no longer were the blood spears going to rain down on them.

Of course, they could see them floating above me! They knew exactly where I am. And where not to try to climb. I can be really stupid.

Jeff and the soldiers started to bunch up in an attempt to doge the Kobolds' spears. Very few of the Kobolds had ripped out their spines to fight, so it was just regular wounds they had to worry about. Not that a sharpened wooden stick to the throat would not kill somebody. Verona knew that to be true.

I need to think this better. To use these better.

In the few tiny and short breaths she took, she thought of nothing. The rush of battle, and the feeling coming from her mark, clouded her thinking into simple and uncomplicated thoughts.

Damn it. I still need to help.

She withdrew the blood spears from the dead Kobolds, allowing the villagers to retake their positions.

As she began to run towards her previous position her concentration dropped for an instant by a scream of a woman. One of the spears smashed into the stone wall base. The tip shattered but remained under her control.

She stopped and looked, a thought forming in her head.

While her blood spear had broken the stone was undamaged. Anton had tried to hit her crystallised blood and found it to be quite fragile, but more than strong enough to puncture flesh.

With a few tidbits of ideas flowing through her mind, she reformed the spears and pushed them over the wall. A few struck vertically down and killed the few still attempting to climb where she fought.

The others, nearly twenty thin and short spears, she arranged horizontally like the rungs on a ladder.

This is going to be tough to keep them together.

She held out her hand, focusing her mental strength on keeping the horizontal spears in alignment.

She ran.

Screams followed.

The spears kept the same distance from her and ran along the outside.

The villagers infront of her had no idea why she was running towards them with an outstretched hand to the wall. When the Kobolds died and fell off, they understood. She hoped.

She could feel the Kobolds being struck through her connection, when she had to pull extra hard on one spear as it had gotten lodged in a climbing Kobold.

It was too hard to keep them hitting the wall.

Some did and broke. Instead of reforming them, she kept them as the small fragments and moved them along with the others as she ran.

Soon there were none left in the original from, all having been reduced to the tiny shards.

It mattered not to her. It was now a cloud of shards that tore through anything.

She kept running, dragging and throwing the shards forward, until she reached Jeff and Sam. They had survived but it was clear that a few of the villagers were badly wounded.

With all her concentration focused on the other side of the wall she could not bring more blood spears to help them. It was taking almost all of her mental concentration to hold the shards in a rough shape.

It was then she remembered what she had in her left hand as she tried to raise both/

Her spear. The one which had cut through an armour that even Anton's magic could not.

She just hoped that it would not distract her from controlling her blood shards. Both hands would have made the shards easier to control.

As she moved closer to the wall a Kobold, that had survived despite having most of its body torn open, lept at her.

She stopped and moved the spear tip at its head.

The Kobold could not change its path in flight. Instead it screamed as its body impaled itself on her weapon.

Driven crazy by the pain and battle, it lashed out with it's remaining clawed hand as it continued to scream at her, well out of reach.

Sorry, but you attacked us first!

Digging her right foot hard down, she swung the spear to her left. The body came loose and rolled onto the ground inside the village. Its spines stopped it from rolling like a person, finally stopping on it's back and almost suspended in the air by a foot.

Another idea like before began to form, but Verona knew it was not the time just yet to stop and think.

She lept in the fray, utilising her small size to duck through beside the taller villagers hips and dashed through. She used her surprisingly strong body to force an opening in the Kobold mass.

There was a push from behind. It was Sam and Jeff. They knew not what she was doing, only that it was important. She dropped the spear and dove down even lower to dive through all their legs.

They both gave a yell and those with shields moved forward to try and hold open the break.

Verona took her chance, getting as low as she could and still run, and dodged through the confused and scared Kobolds. Their attacks were working. The Kobolds swung and stabbed wildly at the villagers. Someone small running through their ranks was not a priority, especially when they were fending off a spear to the face.

As she cleared the Kobold mass she took one look back and saw that almost no Kobolds were attacking where she had been. There were even less climbing over infront of her.

They were afraid of her, and what she could do. Very afraid.

She held out her hand again and regained direct control of the shards on the other side, dragging them along. The sound of the shards hitting and cutting through the climbers sent even more shivers of joy down her spine.

Go away!

She screamed at the growing urge. It vanished almost immediately.

As she ran she heard more screams from the Kobolds but pushed it out as well.

She stopped when their were no more villagers infront of her.

No more Kobolds were trying to climb over, but they could be charging over again behind her.

She stopped and looked back. Her breath was ragged and her whole body trembled from the excitement and fear. To the others she must have looked like a wreck after having just killed untold numbers of Kobolds.

The villagers were looking around in a mixture of joy and disbelief. The Kobolds had stopped their attacks, the few on top of the wall, isolated and terrified, were quickly killed.

By the gods, did I actually do that? I survived, we all seem to have survived. So I guess I did alright.

She glanced over the wall as she made her way back to Jeff, Sam and Avery at the center of the villagers. It was horrific, and exciting.

Dead Kobolds, ripped and torn to bloody shreds, lay in great piles on the ground beneath the wall. Opposite of where Jeff stood, on the other side of the wall, was the thickest. She was unable to see the grass and dirt through the blood and bodies.

The wall itself looked like it had undergone quite a bit of the fighting. Blood and chunks of fur had been ingrained into the small cracks, droplets started to run down and pool on the outside. The cloud of blood shards must have forced them in as she dragged them along.

Beyond the piles of bodies at the wall the other Kobolds were running for their lives. There was no order to their retreat. Many looked worryingly over their shoulders, like she was about to launch herself from the wall and come after them. She could not see their leader. Perhaps he had been killed.

Right now she had no inclination. There was another pressing thought in her mind, taking away any joy she might have felt in this small victory.

The urge was back. The urge drink and bathe herself in the carnage. It had been there since the first day she had acquired the power, but now it was so powerful, seeing so much death. And Blood.

She pushed it back down, but it did not go away so quickly or completely. Seeing so much blood that she could control left it bubbling underneath her thoughts.

Some of the Kobolds at the base of the wall were still alive. Groans and pathetic whimpers filled the air as she walked through the silent villagers. They parted for her this time, not that she minded. She had to get back to the others.

Jeff and Sam looked at her in complete disbelief. Verona found herself smiling wildly, like she always did when she was happy, almost like she was waiting for someone to pat her on the head.

Come on, you're over twenty winters old. That's something that Anton does to me. I need to be better than this.

She reined in her wild smiling but found she could not stop it completely. As she stepped onto the box, still there despite the fighting, and leant onto the wall Jeff and Sam moved either side of her. She could hear the frantic breathing and the trembling hands, sure signs that they had just been through, and survived, quite an ordeal.

“So they're running.” Verona commented with a wave, doing her best to ignore the puddles of blood around her, “I suppose this is a really good thing.”

She waited for a response but none came.

There was some apprehension in her as she looked either side.

They both had the look. The look of fear, of her.

She sighed. She had thought that there could be at least a few people that did not judge her for what she had just done to save their lives.

“Did...How did...” Sam struggled to put the words together in a coherent sentence.

Verona glanced back out. The Kobolds were now beginning to slow down, now that they had reached the beginning of the bone-yard. Several were already starting to turn around. If they were going to attack again it would not be long before they tried again.

“How did you think to do that?” Sam asked, finally having regained her composure.

“Slice them as they came up?” Verona asked.

Sam nodded but she seemed uncomfortable at how Verona described it.

“Y...Yeah. Did Anton teach you that?”

While she did not want to speak ill of Anton, but always having anything new that she did automatically assumed that it came from him was quite annoying. It made her start to feel like she had no creative thoughts of her own.

“No,” Verona replied defiantly. “I thought it up myself. I had no idea if it would actually work though.”

She smiled and turned to them. They smiled back, not warmly as they could, but it was better than before.

“It was the sound of those things, that clinking, of them smashing into the Kobolds and the wall.” Jeff began. “That scared us a little.”

He nodded the other side of the wall. The hundreds of tiny shards of blood floated in the air above them. Verona realised she did not put any effort into making them move, she must have done it subconsciously.

After reforming the blood back into a liquid form and into the clay pots on her side, she extinguished the fire.

All the urges from the battle disappeared as well. That was certainly something she would have to remember, should she ever loose herself in the sensations.

“Are they about to attack again?” she asked Jeff.

Jeff nodded.

“It looks like they are regrouping and getting their order back together. Shouldn't be too long.”

He turned to look along the wall.

“Avery? How many on our side fell?”

Avery pushed his way through the bloodied villagers, still recovering with their arms supporting themselves on the wall. His eyes were darting around, looking at the few villagers lying on the ground.

“I think just a couple.” he replied. “We kept together, so there shouldn't be too many more.”

The way he could talk so indifferently about the deaths of the villagers felt odd. But what was more odd was that she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing about some of the people she knew were dead. Another disturbing thing, not related to her using her powers.

“We should get those that are too wounded to fight away from the wall,” Verona said, getting an odd look from the three, “They'll just be in the way if they aren't needed.”

“She's right.” Jeff turned to Sam. “Can you get as many as you can away from the wall? Make sure that they are not faking it so they don't have to fight.”

“On it.” came Sam's reply.

She whistled, three short and high pitched, and several women soldiers came up to her. With the orders issued they began to move through the wounded villagers.

Some did try to overstate their injuries. These received a hard slap to the head. There were less faking after the first few slaps.

From the center of the village came a stream of elderly villagers. In their arms were baskets of the dried healing herbs. Sybil and Bertram were at the front, quickly working with Sam to hydrate the herbs and apply them to the deepest and most grievous wounds. Some began to scream wildly, like they were being eviscerated like the Kobolds. Even from this distance Verona could see the light green tinge of the Kobold poison. She remembered what Kal had said, that getting it on the skin nearly convinced her to remover her own hand. She had no idea what it would feel like coursing through her body. Nor did she want to know.

While the cries began to subside, and the healing herbs did their work, Verona turned her attention back outside. She was worried about what was about to happen next.

She stayed back and kept an eye out to the south. All the Kobolds had stopped running and looked like they were about to come again.

“How many are wounded?” Verona asked.

“Out of nearly five hundred, fifty are heavily wounded with another hundred that are moderately wounded. Five dead.” Sam replied as she made her way back to them. Her hands were recently bloodied, wiping them off with a spare piece of cloth.

“I think that means we did well, considering what we've got.” Verona said.

“Without any real pieces of armour.” Jeff added.

“Or many ranged weapons.” Avery added as well. “If we had three or four times as many weapons, we could have cut down so many before they reached the walls, they may have decided to run before climbing.”

“Anton will bring more.” Verona began, “When we went to Maxill, to the Duchess we were unknown people from the east. Hopefully Anton will come back with twenty or maybe thirty crossbows and many bolts. Maybe even a few bows.”

Avery smiled, something that was very rare for him.

However Verona felt very uneasy about bringing him up right now. He was so far away when they needed him the most. It felt like it had been planned so they could not call upon him. Even if he got the message now that they needed his help it would still be another fifteen or so days before he returned.

Maybe his prayer power, or one of the other gods he has, has some way of communicating over large distances. Maybe even some way of moving very, very quickly between places. I'll ask next time.

The Kobold horde started to move towards them again.

If there is a next time.

There were a lot less now, most dead at the base of the wall, perhaps two thirds of the attackers remained. Still far too many for her to deal with, they would wear them down if they just kept attacking. And if another Kobold army attacked....

“Everyone, get ready!” Jeff yelled over the murmurs from the villagers. “We'll keep beating them back so long as we need to!”

She saw a definite change from the villagers. Just a few simple words could change how they stood, breathed, and even looked outwards. She had no idea how long it would last once the fighting started again.

Avery yelled and the ranged villagers took their positions again. Very few had taken injuries, a good thing as they needed all the strength to pull back the bows and reload the crossbows.

The Kobolds broke into a run. The few that were uninjured in some way moved out to the front of the attack.

The first volley of arrows and bolts flew forth, but Verona barely noticed them. She was thinking along the same lines. About not letting them even reach the walls. But her power had a very short range, compared to Anton's magic, probably not even a quarter of the distance.

What if I used that 'Tethering' thing he talked about? No, I don't think so this time. It made my blood much stronger but slower and more difficult to move. That's...hang on.

She turned back, back towards the Kobold that had been thrown from the wall and had rolled about, landing on its back and not touching the ground. A quickly thought flashed through her mind relating to how the creatures slept.

Those spikes...maybe if I do something like that.

It was worth a try, if anything to stop her from running around and dragging the blood shards with her.

She activated her power and drew up all the blood from her vials.

With the blood forming a large ball infront of her, she closed her eyes to concentrate.

I don't know how detailed Anton speaks the words in his mind, but...I need it like a ball. A ball with spikes. Very long spikes.

Something happened, a slight change in the way her magic felt. She did not know if it was her goddess, Jira, interfering or helping, but there was a feeling of how to form the blood into the shape she wanted.

As she followed the feeling the ball began to harden and points began to emerge. The ten points, with one on the other side of another and evenly spaced, began to grow, taking away the blood from the center.

She could hear murmuring from those around her but she pushed it out of her mind. There was no room for distractions.

Finally it was done and she opened her eyes.

The ten spikes, all joined at a common point, floated infront of her. Each spike was longer than she was tall. They were perfectly smooth, with not a mark or deformation on them. That would make the next part easier, hopefully.

The Kobolds were very close, almost within range of her magic. Most seemed to be heading right for her.

Taking a quick glance either side it seemed that Jeff had moved most of the villagers away from her. He must have thought that they would have been enough in the centre of the wall. Either that or he was worried about what she was about to do. A quick glance back showed that he was far more concerned with what was happening out there.

The Kobolds finally reached her longest range, but she did nothing.

Jeff and Sam made a noise directed at her but she ignored them.

She wanted them to get closer. Much closer.

When she had been practising with her magic on the archery range it became harder to control the magic further away it was, but it did not just cut off. The only reason why she had cancelled the magic was that it was too hard and demanding to control.

They were almost at the wall now. She could see their angry muzzle faces, blood and saliva pouring out as they ran. It was like that in all their rage they could not see, or did not care about, the blood spikes infront of them.

Let's see how you like this.

She pushed the spikes down and onto the ground. One of the spikes gently pierced the ground as she brought it to a halt.

Then she spun it forward. The sensation was quite odd, like the connection and her own body was spinning, somehow. It was completely and utterly disorienting in her mind but she gritted her teeth and endured.

A look of disbelief overcame the Kobolds muzzled faces. Living in the wilderness, there was no way they could have seen something like this.

The first Kobold raised it hands to shield itself and turned its head away. As if it could have actually run away from her.

Blood spikes tore through its body like it was air. It screamed as its body was torn apart and forced into the ground. The spikes on the side sliced open those standing close it as well. As the spikes continued to roll through the panicking horde of Kobolds, the first Kobold, still spiked, began to rise as the spike dug into its body. Just as it started to move the spike slid out, the blood lubricated it free.

She grinned knowing that her power worked like she wanted it to.

Dozens had died in a few heartbeats. Dozens every one after that.

She dropped her spear against the wall and held out both hands.

She pushed it forward, then to the right, backwards and then to the left, directing the deadly spikes with a flick of both hands.

Always spinning. Always churning through bodies. Blood and torn limps began to fly into the air.

So much.

She could hear no sounds of arrows or bolts being loosed at them. Everyone and everything was looking at the spikes.

As the Kobold horde moved closer, despite their rapid losses, so too did the spinning spikes. Chunks of flesh and blood started to splatter the wall and those on top. In the flurry of screams and cries she only vaguely realised that she was smiling and laughing.

Laughing like a maniac.

It was like she was not even in her own body, like something had cut all the inhibitions away. Any tiny piece of joy that she felt at seeing them die was amplified a thousand fold and allowed out. Nothing was stopping her thoughts and emotions from running wild.

She paid it no mind until the blood splattered on her face. It snapped her out of her trance, one so vivid and exelirating that it did not feel unnatural until now.

As she tried to wipe it off her face a tiny bit entered her mouth.

At first there was just the familiar taste of blood. A thought flashed her head about the metallic taste before it was washed away by a surge at her nether region. It exploded in an instant, almost taking her breath away. It was strong enough that she grabbed the wall to stop herself from her legs buckling.

She knew the feeling of what just happened, she had experienced it more than enough with Anton or by herself. It was not as intense but the unexpected nature of it caused her to fumble.

Jeff and Sam moved forward to see what was wrong. She kept her head down to hide the sudden flush to her face and waved them away with one hand.

Why? Why the fuck now?

She looked at the tiny droplets of blood on the sleeve of her shirt then brought her still shaky hand to her mouth. To the side she could still feel the wetness of the blood.

Lester called me a 'Blood Beserker', and so did Kal. Is this is what they meant?

She could feel a slight dampness to her crotch.

Is this why we are called that? We get off on drinking blood? And they expect us to just go mad in an orgy of blood and death?

Somehow she was able to keep part of her mind on controlling the spikes, even if it did slow down drastically for a few moments. She started to push them through the faltering crowds of Kobolds.

That was only a drop...what would happen to me if it was more? How the hell am I meant to go into battle without going crazy?

Another thought arose in her head.

Is this what you want of me? To die in a orgy of blood and death? Fuck You Jira!

There was nothing to her cry against her goddess. Perhaps she had expected it and did not care.

She focused her attention away from the ebbing sensation and back onto the battlefield.

The Kobolds looked to be about to break.

A final push, like her summoning the dozens upon dozens of blood spears at the cumulation of the Yellow Goblin battle, would shatter them.

She stopped the spikes and lifted it into the air. The sheer volume of blood that she could control was immense, even though she had nowhere near enough skill or mana to do so. She brought up us much as she could and formed them into smaller crystal spike balls, five small and one large.

There was the look of total fear on their faces. One had just become six, and they knew they would soon attack.

Verona leant against the wall, to allow her to focus on controlling the spikes, and held out both hands.

As she pushed them through and tore apart the Kobolds her control was pushed to the limit. Every movement, even maintaining them, was a colossal strain on her mind and body. The previous incident had done nothing to help with her measure of control.

The center of the Kobolds collapsed under her relentless and deadly magic, the sides quickly following.

A howl cried out from the rear, quickly repeated throughout the remaining few Kobolds.

They began to retreat in a bloodied and chaotic mess. She did not know if it was their leader, and she did not care.

Within a few heartbeats they were out of range of her blood spikes. She took a deep breath and released control of most of the blood, keeping enough to fill the clay pots on her hip. The blood liquefied and flowed like a stream through the air into the pots.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Nobody said anything for some time. She turned to look around, just to make sure something else was not happening.

Instead she was greeted by faces full of terror and fear, all directed at her. As she glanced back towards the south she understood why.

There were dead Kobolds on the wall and past her magical range. These were mostly intact; a few deep wounds, missing limbs and arrows and bolts sticking out of their bodies.

The others were nothing more than shredded meat and blood. It was so thick in some places that the grass was completely smothered. A few, somehow, were still alive. Their broken and eviscerated faces slowly gasped for wet and bloody breaths, each becoming weaker and more pathetic as they succumbed to their wounds. In the middle of the fighting she had not even noticed.

She had never seen something so horrific.

And she alone had done this. Alone.

She did not know why that, in the fighting, she had not even cared or noticed. Before the blood entered her mouth she would have called it beautiful.

The fire of her power disappeared with her next breath, so too did all the urges and desires that came with it. The warmth in her body quickly was replaced by a feeling of dread. She could feel the stares directed at her, ones which made her want to run away and hide.

“We are victorious!” Jeff yelled.

Cheers erupted from the villagers.

Verona tried her best to join in but she could not. The stares of fear still pierced the back of her skull, taking away any sense of elation of victory.

“Cheers to Verona!” came another cry.

It snapped her out of her mood and she looked around. It did not come from Jeff, Sam or even Avery. At the far end of the wall a woman had her weapon raised.

Even more people started raising their weapons, one after another, all shouting Verona's name. It was stunning for her to hear. Soon the cries of her name overcame the shouts of victory.

A tear came to her eye, one of relief. Sam patted her on the back energetically. There was a wide smile on her face. Verona returned it.

Soon the cries of victory calmed down.

Jeff shouted loudly to get their attention.

“Everybody that is wounded, get treatment. The rest of you, get some rest where you are.”

He looked back out to the south, so too did Verona. The Kobolds were regrouping at their camp but looked like they were not going to attack again, yet. Even from this distance she could see them caring for their wounded, in whatever form they could.

“They may try again soon.” Jeff finished.

Many villagers slumped down against the wall in a heap, all breathing loudly. Only a few had the strength to remain standing.

Verona found that she was still full of energy, despite her incident with the blood entering her mouth. That was something that she would have to investigate later when they were safe. She picked up her spear, still resting on the wall, and leant against it.

Sam and Jeff moved either side, she glanced around to see that Avery was helping with the wounded and his own archers.

“Jeff, what do we do now? Do we attack?” Verona asked.

Jeff stammered before he could respond to her.

“I...How are you feeling?” he asked, “You know, how much mana or magic or power or whatever, do you have left?”

Verona took a moment, searching within herself.

“I think about half.” she replied, “Using that magic took quite a bit out of me.”

She turned back and saw only a tiny hint of fear on his face. Somehow it was reassuring to see that he did not recoil, even though her eyes were no longer red.

“Do we have any more of that fruit that Anton keeps talking about? That Karak fruit from behind the Main Hall?”

Jeff scratched the back of his head.

“I think there are a few. Those things grow a lot slower than the usual plants, they've only just started to regrow.”

He turned to a villager and ordered him to get a few.

Verona turned her attention back to the south. Sam leant onto the wall next to her.

“Are you sure you're okay?” she asked in a lightest whisper. “When that blood splashed onto you, I thought that you...”

She nodded towards her legs. Thankfully there were no visible signs of what just transpired.

“I'm fine.” Verona replied, her face still low.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, I just need some time to figure out what happened.” She got off the wall and stretched out her body. “When Anton gets back we're going to need to have a long talk about this.”

She rolled up her shirt and looked at the red marks that ran along her body. They seemed brighter than before, even though she was not using the power. At first she thought they were impressive and made her more sexy, a sign that she was able to fight like a great warrior. Now she was starting to wonder what she had gotten herself into.

Verona rolled her sleeve back down and slapped her face hard. The sting broke her stupor, bringing her back to reality.

“Was that...” Sam began to ask.

“No.” Verona replied, turning and smiling at them both. “Just getting my head back together.”

Jeff and Sam glanced at each-other.

“So long as I don't need to use my power too much until Anton gets back and we can figure it out, I should be fine.”

They both smiled.

Jeff opened his mouth to speak when a horn cut him off. It came from very close by, just a few villagers down. Verona wondered why they could not have just said something.

He looked at the villager with the horn in a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

“What is it!?” he asked.

The villager held a shaky hand to the south.

Verona followed it past the Kobold camp, past the looming stone insignia of Nithroel, and into the distance. On the far edge of the horizon she could just make out something moving. She stared as hard as she could. A part of her wished that she had the prayer power that Anton had, it would allow her to easily see that far.

There was something grey and white moving like a tide towards them. Nobody spoke a word as they drew closer and closer to the Kobold camp.

They were Kobolds. Many more of them, seemingly a different variety.

The grey and white tide spilled over the few small hills to the side of the Thumper fields. She pushed the panicking voices behind her out of her mind and tired her best to count them. By the time she came to a reasonable number they were already halfway to the established Kobold camp.

"I count about four to five thousand." Verona said with some sadness in her voice.

They had done well in the last battle, but they had avoided many casualties thanks to Verona. It was basically the same number they had to fight as before, except now these new ones would know what they were up against. It would not be as easy, not that Verona was going to tell them how easy it had been.

All thoughts and hushed whispers amongst the villagers that the Kobolds might attack each other faded when the two groups began to mingle into their camp. The new grey Kobolds looked like they were speaking to the brown ones, every so often one one would look towards them. Towards her.

"For fuck's sake." Jeff said, Avery quickly repeating the same thing.

"What do we do?" Sam asked, a slight tinge of panic to her voice.

Jeff started shouting orders in response. Villagers moved about with frightened steps as they readied themselves for another fight. She could hear arrows being prepared into quivers against the wall and crossbows readied. Verona kept looking out at the camp. Waiting for them to attack.

A villager ran up behind them and handed over a small basket, filled with the Karak fruit. There were eight in total. Verona shot the man a look, he could only shrug while his face screamed with an apology. This must have been it. Jeff was right about them growing very slow. They would need to grow more of those trees, should they survive.

She took one and bit into it. The flesh and juice was amazingly sweet but that did not interest Verona. With each bite she could feel her magic returning, bit by bit. She knew that she could not have too many otherwise she would be sick, just like Anton when he tried to restore his magic too much.

When she had finished half of the fruit she felt that almost all of her magic had returned.

Why does Anton need so many of these things to get back his magic? I don't think he's just being greedy. Is he that low on mana, or does using his magic the way he does burn through so much?

She had no way to answer, she had not asked before and he was not here now.

The new kobolds took no time to get themselves established. A few more tents emerged either side of the existing camp and another totem was being raised beside the previous one. It looked the same, right down to the details of the horns surrounding the leaf.

Nithroel is going to pay for what happens here.

Now the grey, and a few brown, kobolds started marching towards them. They spread out much further this time in an attempt to limit the effectiveness of Verona's magic. The greys had the same wooden weapons and skin clothing. At least they should be as easy to kill as the browns.

Regardless of her new and confusing thoughts on her power, she knew that she would have to use it nearly continuously if they were going to survive until Anton got back. She just had no idea as to what would happen to her if she kept her power going for days at a time. The longest she had kept it going was when the final Yellow Goblin attack and she had been rather distracted to notice any changes.

Not knowing the answer, she prepared herself mentally for the task ahead.

There was one problem that stood out.

If she was going to be of use she could not let any blood enter her mouth. She would be a serious detriment to their cause if she climaxed again and could not properly control her power. They would likely kill her while her legs failed to respond, just like it had occurred to her on so many nights in bed.

She turned to Sam, who looked like she was becoming very pale with fear, and coughed to get her attention.

"Sam, do we have any pieces of spare cloth that I can use? Ones without any blood on them?"

Sam did not answer but ran down the wall, returning a few moments later with a lightly coloured piece of cloth.

"Thanks." Verona mumbled as she took it.

She lent her spear against the wall and tied the cloth tight around her head so it covered her mouth. There was more than enough movement in it for her to talk and breath, but hopefully enough cloth to prevent any droplets of blood entering her mouth. The villagers around her looked confusingly at one another, shrugging as Verona was not willing to give up the reason.

Jeff was about to ask when Sam tapped him on the shoulder and told him that she would explain later.

If there is a later.

The kobolds had fanned out and were slowly marching towards them. The greys did not seem as angry but looked far more determined. They kept their spears low as they moved. Always keeping an eye on the villagers.

It would not be long before they broke into a charge.

As if they could read her thoughts they howled and ran towards them.

"Sam. Before you asked what should we do?"

Verona turned around and saw that both of them looked a little frightened.

The fire within burst into life, the familiar sensation ran throughout her body, letting her know that she could control the blood. With a hand over both sides her hips she drew the blood up and formed the tiny shards. The urge was back, infinitesimally stronger than before, and no simple attempt at pushing it away could get rid of it. She could only hope that she was still sane at the end of the day.

"I'll tell you what we are going to do."

She leant back and raised her voice as loud as she could without it breaking.

"I'll tell you all what we will do!"

The kobolds were almost in range of her magic, the few arrows and bolts the villagers could release did nothing to stop them.

She raised the shards above her head.

The first Kobold was within range.

"We fight for lives!"

------------

Hello Again.

I had both of these chapters done at the same time so I thought i should release them both.

This one is a combat chapter. So Verona is experimenting more with her power, seeing what can be done with it. Also the others talking about the lack of good ranged weapons and the consequences of that, such as the Kobolds having to be fought off in melee and on the wall.

Why she has been called a blood beserker has been revealed, and it's the getting off on combat sort of thing. That's why Lester, the merchant in Maxill, was quite afraid of her, Kal was quite surprised as well. Neither really had the heart to tell her what could happen.

So, Nithroel, the elven goddess that is at war with his own gods, is making her move. So things are probably going to get worse before they get better.

For now, they need to hang on until Anton and co. get back.

That's it for this chapter.

I hope you enjoyed it and as always, please go easy on me.

Thanks!

Chapter 036 - Returning to Carnage

Chapter 036:

It had only taken eleven days for Anton and the new villagers to make the return trip. He had pushed them quite hard, something they seemed only recently accustomed to, to make it back as quickly as he could. While he had not seen Verona, or anyone else for that matter, running through the forest to meet them he was still worried about them all, and not just because he had nobody to tussle with.

The thick forest was finally starting to thin, the first proper rays of light that they had seen in almost two weeks graced their bodies. It would be just a few minutes more and Atros would be in sight.

He looked up at the unfamiliar sight of light and pondered on what they had found at the lake.

What little they found.

There was nothing to show that there had been an attack on the Orcs, no blood or bodies. While they resupplied on water Kal had scouted around the edges of the clearing for any sign of them, dead or alive. Despite nearly an hour of frantic searching she found nothing. Any scent they would have left had long disappeared. Kal seemed the most upset by this. Apart from a few of the villagers, the Orcs where one of the very few that treated her with any level of respect. They had even asked if it was wise for her, a half breed beast-kin, to be heading to a human city. It took quite a while to cheer her up.

Currently he was sitting in the first cart of their sprawling convoy. He had walked for a considerable portion of the trip but with Atros so close, he wanted to have as much energy as possible.

Opposite him sat Raston, looking very cheerful. Kals vague prediction of him and Dana becoming a couple had seemingly come true. With over seven hundred people in their group it was quite easy for the two of them to slink away and then emerge an hour later, both moving with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. Anton was going to question their relationship, as to whether Dana had gone through enough time since her ordeal at the mountain for a physical relationship but he held his tongue. Most people would have said that his and Verona's relationship moved extraordinarily quickly, even in a world where courtships happened much more quickly than on Earth. As to whether Dana had recovered or not he reasoned that she was a full grown adult and able to make her own decisions. She did not need his interference.

Lastly, Kal sat beside him. She was still completely covered in her cloth wrappings and kept her arm protectively over the chest with their money inside. It seemed that she would only let Anton near it, something Raston found out to his detriment.

She had remained very quiet on the trip back. There was no way of telling that she was a beast-kin, especially as she had remained on or near the cart the whole time. One night she had prepared another large batch of mushroom soup for the bondsmen and had created quite a rucuss over it. People saw that the mysterious shrouded woman was preparing food, and good food at that.

All of a sudden, dozens of people were firing questions at her while they heartily devoured their food. Questions like who she was, what her real name was, why she was covered head to toe and what her relationship with Anton was.

All the questions launched at her caused her to panic and try to run away. As she was surrounded she could not escape without having to push through people, potentially revealing her beast-kin heritage should someone try and stop her.

Verona had told him that she did not come to the communal dinner after the battle with the Kobolds because there were too many people, and some deep trauma associated with lightning. That was just people sitting about and eating, not in her face with dozens of questions. Anton had intervened when it become obvious that she could not get out of it herself and seemed to be nearing a mental break. She had thanked him profusely after that for many days.

“Kal?" Anton asked to gain her attention.

Her head snapped from looking up at the trees straight towards him.

"Before we get back, and it might get difficult to have a moment free for the next few days, I just wanted to thank you for coming along."

Kal tilted her head even further. It was hard for her to convey her emotions without giving away that she was a beast-kin.

"I mean...we did just kind of drag you onto this trip without really talking it through with you, and it was to travel to a human city. Somewhere you would avoid if you were by yourself, but you came anyway. And looking back on it the reasoning was pretty shitty, all things considered."

"What do you mean?"

There was a serious sense of nervousness in her voice.

"I mean, that as we did not know the limitations of the red crystal... "

Anton looked over at the small box that contained the strange red crystal. They had been following the instruction of burying it in the ground every night and they had not been attacked since the incident with the wolves.

"Oh..." Kal sounded very sad. Her head drooped, something he did not intend for her.

"But," Anton said quickly to cut off any bad thoughts that she might be having. "Without you we would all be dead from those wolves. Besides, I enjoyed having you on this trip."

Kal tilted her head again. He glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. Everyone seemed to be chatting merrily away, even Raston was looking back towards Dana on her horse, like a puppy in love.

"I guess that it's a little hard to put into the right words...It would have been quite boring without you here. I enjoyed having you on this journey, even if the last half has been a little difficult for you."

"Less than it usually is...but, thank-you Anton. I enjoyed this trip as well, even if it did get a bit scary in a few places."

Anton laughed.

"It did, didn't it? But, thanks to you, we pulled through."

Kal nodded, her ears twitching ever so slightly. She straightened her head and body up.

"It was a good decision to come along, even if it was made in haste on my part," Kal replied, "One I know I would have never even dreamed of doing before. Coming here and meeting you all."

She looked down and chuckled nervously and lightly.

"Finally able to trust someone."

Anton chuckled as he reached over and rubbed her head. She lightly mewled at the sensation.

"I hope soon that it will be more than just a few people."

Kal nodded.

"I hope you keep your promise to me." she said in the lightest whisper. It was so quiet that he was sure he was not meant to hear it.

"I will Kal. I'm not going to run away from the promise I made to you."

She seemed a little startled but he could see that he ears and tail were moving so much that they looked like they wanted to burst free. Curiosity was getting to him, he really wanted to know what her tail looked like. Was it like a cats? A dogs? Or something else entirely?

Regardless, he was going to see through in rescuing as many beast-kin as he could.

"Anyway," Kal said somewhat awkwardly, patting her backside and head to stop her body from moving. She seemed to have little control over them when she had strong emotions, "How many of these trips do you have planned?"

She seemed anxious to get onto a topic that would not make her so nervous.

"This is the second time that I have been away from Atros, and I think it will be the last time I head over to Maxill and the Qaiviel Kingdom for a little while."

"But how will you keep getting more bondsmen?"

Anton stretched out his legs before speaking.

"I was thinking of sending a small, well armed group through the forest every time we can get more. A group small enough that they will be protected by the red crystal but strong enough to fend off any attackers."

"Is your plan for the future to go to far off places, establish contacts, get someone else to continue the deals while you head off to the next one?"

Kal seemed genuinely interested, it may affect her as well.

Anton nodded.

"For now, yes. There are so few of us to risk their lives. More now."

He turned back to look at the mass of people following them. For people that had been oppressed they were surprisingly obedient. Or perhaps that was why they listened to his words so easily. None had really questioned where they were going beyond what Raston had told them. For all they knew they might be slavers about to sell them off to Seocuria, even if they may not have been profitable.

The mention of that place was still a very touchy subject for Kal. If they are going to make it there and begin slowly freeing and bringing the beast-kin back successfully, they would need to have a long talk with her on how that empire worked, as well as the one in between, Graterious. But that was an issue for another time.

"Who were you thinking of sending?" Kal asked, not liking the silence that followed during Anton's mental thinking.

"It would need to be someone that we could trust and so could Duchess Belinda."

Anton turned and looked at the person opposite him. Kal let out a strange sound of approval.

“That seems like a good idea.” she mumbled to him, a rare hint of slyness to her voice.

Raston heard the odd way Kal spoke and turned to face them. It was clear that his attention was still focused elsewhere.

"What's happening?" it was clear through his voice that he was clearly still distracted.

"Kal here has just decided that you would be the right person to continue our relations with Qaivel and the Duchess Belinda."

Kal squeaked in surprise, not thinking that he would use her name, even in jest. Raston though looked horrified.

"In all seriousness though, we do need someone to keep relations good and ensure that we can keep getting more bondsmen, as well as start to sell some of the things we make."

"But-"

"And it can't be me as I'll be heading to Graterious, to the north east, soon."

Kal perked up. Beyond that lay Seocuria, and the rest of her kind.

"Well... Am I really the best person for this? Someone that used to be a bondsmen in the Duchess's service?"

Anton shrugged and smiled.

"Even though she, and by that I probably mean Alfred, will be physically dealing with you, you will be acting on my behalf. And vice versa."

Kal cocked her head and Raston looked a little confused.

Oh, right.

"Basically the same applies to you. Also, since you were a former bondsmen it will give you a lot of sway over them."

Anton looked back to the bondsmen. Word must have spread from the homesick villagers that they were almost there, their faces had lifted and they moved with a renewed energy.

"I doubt that they would have come along so smoothly without you being here to help them."

Raston chuckled and smiled warmly.

"A few blasts of that magic of yours would keep them in line."

Anton shook his head.

"Fear, fear of me, will only get us so far. It will work in the short term, but it would not last and need to become greater each time something went wrong to keep them in line. We need something else as well if we want Atros to grow properly."

"You... You aren't going to rule through fear?" Kal asked. "With someone like me here... It might be hard not to. And if you find more..."

"Rubbish." Anton waved his hand dismissively, Kal seemed quite taken aback. "Despite your.... Heritage, the villagers have no problem with you, and they haven't blabbed to the bondsmen either. They just need some time to adjust and someone to make sure they don't do anything stupid."

Kal hummed in agreement.

I have not forgotten what you said, about most of the beast-kin not looking even remotely human. We will deal with that when we come to it.

She rapped her clothed fingers on the wooden crate. Her head turned to him but then backed down. He was not going to try and force every little thing out of her. She had already shown, with a punch to his gut, that if she wanted to do something she would.

"But, back to our original topic, I would like if it were you."

Raston did not look convinced.

"You'll be taking with the red crystal, and about the same number of well armed soldiers with you each time."

"I... Uh."

"And it'll look good for your girlfriend."

Raston frowned.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Who isn't?" Kal asked, tilting her head.

Anton had no idea if Kal had planned that, or if it was just good innocent timing, but it did the trick. His face started to flush and he tired to desperately hold in his embarrassment.

Kal, amazingly, giggled at the sight, making Raston even more embarrassed. He calmed down and mumbled that he would think about it.

Dana raced her horse towards them, stopping when she come along side the cart. Her usual stoic face had softened over the last few days. Anton hoped that she was not worried about why the both of them were laughing at Raston's reaction.

There seemed to be something else on her face, something that he could not quite put down.

"You two love birds seem to be having fun." she said in her usual cold voice.

"If anything, I should direct that at you two." Anton retorted, enjoying the sudden flush of embarrassment on Dana's face.

"Wha-"

Anton chuckled.

"Come on, everybody knows about it."

Dana and Raston glanced at each-other before looking back at him. Both seemed a little embarrassed.

"You both disappear for a while and then you come back looking completely different. All relaxed and whatnot."

He did not know why, but he wanted to tease them a little. Hopefully not because he was feeling pent up himself.

"That-"

"We-"

They both tried to talk their way out of it but could only fumble.

"I'm just teasing the both of you. I think it's really cute."

It only made them redden even more.

Dana coughed to try and steady her mind, with some success.

"I did not ride up here just to get involved with an embarrassing conversation with you."

No, you wouldn't.

"But have either of you looked towards Atros?"

Anton had not. The trees were very thin and it would be only a hundred meters or so before they were clear. Even with the foliage still covering some of his vision he looked out.

There seemed to be more smoke, but that could be explained by the increase in their industrial output. But it was where it was coming from that started to play on his heart. While there were quite a few small, and one large, trails of smoke coming from where he knew Atros stood, there were quite a few further south. Roughly coming from the bone-yard.

He said nothing, those near him said nothing until they were clear of the forest. Kal even moved the cloth away from her eyes so she could see clearly.

The city was smouldering.

Terrible images of Verona and the others burning to death flooded his mind. He felt his breath and heart increase while he stared. It was Kal who snapped him out of it. She grabbed his hand hard, enough so that her claws dug into his skin. The sharp flash of pain brought him to his senses.

She said nothing as she looked straight at him. He patted her head, which got another cute whimper from her, and turned back to the village.

He chanted the sight prayer in his head, making sure for it to last until he wanted it to stop. Now was not the time to start experimenting with whatever he could do with the prayer power.

It was nowhere as bad as he first thought. While some buildings seemed they had been on fire, they seemed to be new ones. New ones, unfortunately probably built to house the new bondsmen. Smoke still billowed out of the remains. There seemed to be a second wall as well. The villagers had done well to build it so quickly. This second wall was larger and seemingly more well built than the previous one. With his eyesight enhanced to unimaginable levels he could see many marks, white scratches, covering the entire outside of the western section, mainly on the southern side. He had no idea what could have done this.

The further to the south of wall he looked the more red it became. There was blood, old blood and flesh, ingrained into the wall.

What the gods told him before, the demons, came back into his thoughts. He had not seen one yet but they were meant to be horrific creatures of fire, teeth and hate. The marks did not look like they were from any creature he knew of, but there were the strange creatures in the gods realm when he was brought here. They were nothing but teeth and eyes, hidden in shadow. Images of those shadowy creatures descending upon the city were terrifying.

"There's something to the south." Kal mumbled loudly.

The new bondsmen were talking amongst themselves quite loudly as they cleared the forest. They could see the city, the one that Raston had promised them would herald a new future for them, was in serious danger. Raston stood up and moved to the back of the cart in an attempt to calm them down as they continued towards Atros.

To the south, where the other lines of smoke came from, were six stone pillars with a round larger tablet on top. They circular tablets were side on so he could not see what was on their faces but, in his heart he knew what they were.

Kobold totems, ones that worshipped the elven goddess of the forest, Nithroel. An enemy of his gods, and now of him.

Just like at the lake there were dozens upon dozens of the small leather tents with six larger tents behind the stone totems.

That camp that we destroyed only had the one. Have they been attacked by six groups of kobolds?

There was some movement around the camps. There were grey, brown and a red-brown coloured creatures moving from tent to tent. He had no idea as to how many kobolds there were but they had not seen them yet.

"Kal, you said the kobolds have a good sense of smell but bad eyesight, right?"

She nodded frantically.

"Yes, but they will see us coming before we make it to the safety of the walls."

He was about to ask what she meant when she pointed towards the wall.

There was something long and shiny rising above the wall. It almost glittered in the early morning sun. The further he looked the more he saw. They were spears, resting against the wall.

A head, bandaged and a little bloody, raised itself up, glanced around to the south before dropping back down again.

There are people still alive in there. We have to help them.

Anton withdrew the enhanced vision and turned to Dana.

"Can you carry another person on your horse?" he asked somewhat frantically.

Dana seemed to understand right away.

"Yes. With just the two of us we can move very quickly." she answered, bringing the horse close enough so it almost touched the side.

Anton motioned for Raston to move, who did so a little reluctantly, and hopped onto the horse behind Dana. It was an odd sensation, having a massive animal beneath him, but Dana and the other horse riders seemed comfortable with it.

"We'll go on ahead and find out what is going on," Anton told Raston and Kal, while Dana was getting the horse ready to charge, "Once we've gotten far enough away, get everybody moving towards Atros."

Anton took a deep breath, readying himself for an unpleasant possibility.

"If it is not safe...we'll turn around and head back to Maxill."

Raston opened his mouth to protest the last part but said nothing.

"It won't come to that." Kal said defiantly.

"I really hope so." Anton replied.

"You don't want me to come with you?" Kal asked, just as Dana was about to whip the reins.

Her hand was held out, just like she did at Lester's shop. She wanted to come with them. But this was not the time.

"I want you to stay with the bondsmen," he replied, "Keep them safe for me."

She nodded fiercely, moving her arm around the money box and holding it tight.

Not exactly what I meant but that'll have to do.

He turned to Dana, her head was side on as she looked back at him.

"So, how do I hold on?"

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"No." Anton replies, sounding somewhat regretful. "The closest I got was learning how to steer one of these Ix creatures."

If on cue the lead reptilian Ix snorted loudly, he could see the vapour from its breath.

"Well, just hold onto my sides then so you don't fall off."

It felt a little odd to hold the waist of someone else's partner, especially when that person was a meter away. Anton did not look over. He did not want Raston to think that there was something going on.

As soon as his hands made contact, Dana whipped the reins and yelled a short yelp, and the horse bolted forward.

---[]---

Halfway to Atros and he could see nothing different. He was glad that he had deactivated the sight enhancement, bobbing about on the galloping horse would have made for a truly nauseating experience.

Dana occasionally looked back, to make sure that he was still alright and the bondsmen and their villager guards were following. They were but they seemed to be in no rush.

Less than minute later a horn blew out from the city wall. He had no idea where it came from. From this distance it was hard to make out any difference between a cautious head peeking over and the buildings behind.

Dana slowed the horse down. Now it was slow enough that he could use the sight enhancement magic without being sick. He chanted the prayer power once more and looked out.

There were more heads appearing over the wall, some of them had a roughly formed steel helmet. It appeared Jonathan was continuing his good work. The faces underneath were tired and dirty. It looked as if they had not slept for days. Perhaps they had not. Their eyes were squinting to get a better look, they must have had no idea that he could see them.

Over the next minute more villagers made their way to the western wall and its lumbering gate. It was too far away to shout yet, they would have only heard intelligible mumbling.

Some villagers rose up to get a better view, still half obstructed by the wall. They were quickly pulled back down, quite forcefully so. Everybody was still on high tension.

Finally, the gate groaned open. One of the halves of the gate creaked backwards and a man on a horse ventured forth. Whomever it was they were very nervous. He looked back at the wall and appeared to shout something back.

He brought his horse to a quick run and rode straight towards them.

Anton turned off the enhanced sight. He did not need it so see what was going through his mind.

At first he appeared very nervous like he was walking into a trap. A few seconds after that there was a profound sense of relief, visible even from such distance. He smiled and cheered, the horse running as fast as it could until he was a few meters away. With a forceful pull he brought the beast to a halt, turned it around and began trotting next to them.

"Thank all the gods that you've returned. You two are a welcome sight for us all." he said, he was almost out of breath but he smiled with reckless abandon.

"It's good to see you too,". Dana said with a rare smile.

She looked back at Anton and then to the rider.

"What has happened?" she seemed very nervous. Anton knew that she had a brother, one that had braved the mountain with him to find her. The last thing she would want to hear was that he was dead.

"Kobolds. It...It has been a trying time." the rider replied, some of the happiness disappeared along with it. "But everyone will be glad to hear that you have returned."

"Is Verona still alive?" There was a slight pain in his chest. He did not want to loose his smiling silver fox.

The rider nodded, but there was something in his face that unsettled him.

"Yes, she is alive." He replied, "Everybody on the council is alive. We lost very few people considering what we were up against, at least Jeff says so."

Hearing that they had lost some villagers made him feel a little nervous. How would they treat him now that he returned with more people, if he had stayed their own would not have to had died. He felt Dana tense up as well.

"How many?" she asked, nudging the horse to move faster.

The rider matched their speed before answering.

"At the last count, I think forty or fifty I think." He shrugged, "Would have been a lot worse without that second wall."

It would have been even less if I had been here.

"Even more without those weapons you brought from the west."

Anton cocked his head.

"Those crossbows that you brought back worked really well when they were clambering over the wall."

There were that many kobolds?

"But really, it was Jonathan's new forge that helped us the most."

The rider thumped on his chest. It resounded with a dull thump. Underneath his shirt he was wearing some some of metal armour.

"This saved me from a few strikes that would have laid me down for dead."

"How many kobolds attacked?" Anton asked.

The rider shrugged.

"Not sure. The others will be able to explain it better."

His hands tightened on the reins, giving the horse a quick whip. It jolted forward and it ran towards the gate.

"I'll let them know the good news!" he shouted back.

"Should we go back for the others?" Dana asked.

He took another quick look south to the Kobold camps. They seemed to have noticed them but did not appear to be doing anything. Of course, that could all change when they got sight of the seven hundred unarmed bondsmen.

"Good idea. It'll let the others get ready. We also don't want those kobolds trying g something when we are inside the safety of the walls."

Dana nodded and turned the horse around.

---[]---

Anton returned to his previous position on the cart next to Kal. They all seemed very nervous when they came back but those originally from Atros seemed the most relieved. Although the news that there had been some deaths did not help the mood.

Kal seemed very happy herself. She wouldn't have to go back to wandering the wilds and soon, if the new people took the news that she was a beast-kin well, would no longer have to cover herself up.

The kobolds gathered at the edge of their camp but they did not attack. From what he could see they were badly wounded. It would have been extremely foolish of them to attack such a large group of people in their current state. There still seemed to be hundreds, if not thousands, of them.

When they were very close the gate swung completely open. The soldiers stood up from the protection of the wall and cheered. He heard his name being called out to many times. They did not seem angry at him for leaving.

More and more bleary eyed villagers emerged. They all seemed to be wounded to some degree but as soon as they saw him their faces lit up.

I'm going to be doing quite bit of healing for the next few days, if nothing else.

Dana and Raston ordered the carts to all fit inside. It was a bit of a mess as most of the drivers wanted to stop the moment they had made it inside the walls, the somewhat temperamental Ix did not help.

The few guards on duty started to swarm around them. They were tired, dirty and wounded. Most of them looked to on the verge of tears at seeing them return.

The inner gate groaned open, even more villagers poured out. He recognised a few but he was missing a very important one.

He moved his head about to get a better view. As she was so much shorter it was hard through the taller villagers. Eventually, as the villagers neared the carts, he saw it. A small head of silver hair darted through the crowd, pushing its way to the front. Above it was the red crystal tip of her spear.

All the villagers were talking at him, asking what had happened, but he could not hear them. He he could hear was deep feminine voice telling them to move out of her way.

As he hoped of the cart, ignoring the sound of the old and new bondsmen talking, the silver head moved even faster. His heart skipped a few beats as she disappeared once again.

The moment his feet touched the ground she burst through the final wall of villagers. She dropped the spear, not caring where it landed, and lunged at him.

She collided with his chest with an almighty thump. Her arms wrapped themselves around him and he did the same to her. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her face into his chest. She attempted to speak words but nothing came out other than incoherent mumbles. Warmth, one that he had not felt for some time, flowed into him, calming his heart.

Many of the new bondsmen looked at the scene but said nothing.

He freed one hand that was holding her tight and slowly stroked her hair. It was hard, greasy and gritty. He did not want to judge but she looked like a mess, but he was just glad to have her back in his arms. She was quietly sobbing and laughing into his chest.

"I've missed you so much...I was honestly starting to wonder if you were going to ever come back to me." she cried while suppressing a laugh.

"Did you honestly think for a moment I wasn't?" Anton asked back.

Verona released her death grip around his chest and looked up at his face. Her ice blue eyes, that were red and puffy from crying, stared deeply into his own. Eventually she cracked and laughed. He had missed that, and her smile.

"Never."

She pulled him down hard by the shirt and kissed him deeply. It was one of longing and lust, all mixed into one. It was some time before they broke it. When they did, Verona's face was scarlet red. Despite what she had done before, intimate acts in public were very embarrassing to her. And to him if he was honest. He enjoyed it too much to try and stop her.

With a free hand he brushed her long silver hair out of her face. She giggled slightly at the sensation of his hand touching her face.

With their kiss broken Verona rested her hands on his hips. He moved his own hands to hold hers, but she let out an odd noise as her hand recoiled from his touch. One that was for him to stop. She had not used it before.

It was only then, despite hugging and kissing her, that he actually took a good look at her. He had been too distracted by relief to notice until now.

She was dressed like Kal was; long sleeved shirt and pants underneath her armour, her hands were covered with roughly bandaged cloth as was her neck. Only her face was exposed.

He moved back slightly, and despite Verona's quick protest, held her hands. The bandages seemed rushed, they were not as well done as Kal's. Each hand was made from different coloured pieces of cloth that bulged over each finger, rather than the slim and tight wrappings of Kal.

Her face was pained but not from some physical pain. It came from deep within, something etched onto her every thought.

Relenting to Anton's stares, she undid the bandages on her hand. He was expecting deep wounds, or at the very worst an infection of some kind. The reality was much more peculiar. As the bandages came free it revealed her white skin but red tribal marks covered at least half of her skin, the same as those that extended from her glyph. They snaked over her skin, following the lines of her bones and covering right up to the tips. Before they had only been on her back and parts of her limbs but never this far.

There were almost tears in her eyes when she looked up at him again.

"They...They started to spread when the kobolds attacked," she began to explain, a strange look of shame on her face, "I've had to keep using my power every day to help keep them from getting over the wall and killing everyone."

Her neck, right up to her chin, was bandaged as well.

"I...thought it the right thing to do to try keep everyone safe. But, now I'm afraid. They..."

She moved closer and lent her head against his chest. He rubbed her head again. In the few spots where the hair was thin he could see snakes of red running all over her scalp. He could even see the tiny flickers of red reaching out from her neck bandage now that he was close enough. As if the marks were trying to strangle her.

"Does it hurt?" his voice nearly a whisper.

She shook her head, still leaning into his chest.

"No. But..."

She pulled her head back upright and moved back for a hug which Anton gave.

"There are...other...things. Things that have gotten worse each day I've fought with my power. They aren't happening when I don't use my power but...I am worried what this means. For me. For us."

It sounded like she was about to cry again.

He lent down, tilting her head backwards and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Her face flushed with embarrassment as they were doing it so publicly, the people around them were starting to quieten and look to him.

"We're going to figure this out. Together."

Her eyes welled up and tears started to flow. Something could not let him see her like this, so he wiped them away as delicately as he could.

"Okay." she said, nodding deeply.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Both hands came up and slapped her cheeks quite hard. A slight tinge of red formed on her cheeks as she began to smile again, he would need to ask what she just did later, but she did seem to be acting a little happier.

"We've got a few things to do before that."

She nodded to the waiting bondsmen. Her eyes continued to travel around until they stopped at one figure. She took a deep breath and readied herself for something.

"Kal!" she exclaimed happily. "What are you still doing up there?"

Kal had not moved the whole time, now she looked quite lonely on top of the cart all by herself.

"Hello Verona. I'm just guarding this box."

Kal patted her cloth wrapped hand on the locked box. Verona turned to him and threw up a quizzical silver eyebrow. He lent in so the others could not hear.

"She's guarding the box with all the money in it." Anton explained. "She has taken it as a sort of mission to look after it until we returned."

"Huh. Well, you're back now so you can come on down." Verona tried waving Kal down.

Kal shook her head. "Someone might try to steal some."

Verona groaned, loudly and dramatically, before picking up her spear and starting to climb onto the the cart. When she was halfway she turned and held out her hand for him to join her.

As he took it, her finger tips flinched at the moment of contact. Her face was pained, hidden well underneath her wide smile. The extended marks terrified her, but seeing him must have reminded her of the recent past when she did not have them. Touching them brought her back to the present, and the knowledge of whatever the marks were doing to her.

He did not want to see her like that. It made him feel quite ill that someone he loved was going through so much pain and apprehension about even touching him.

We will figure this out.

He took her hand and got back up onto the cart. Verona motioned for Kal to stand up.

"I-"

Kal never finished her sentence. The moment she was standing upright Verona pulled her in for a hug, her face landing square into Kal's breasts. She squeaked in surprise, quite cutely so, and looked to Anton for help. He could only smile at her. He did not think that Verona had many friends her own age, or at all. Now probably less so.

Finally she parted, eyes transfixed at her chest.

"Wow." Verona mumbled softly, causing Kal's hands to start twitching from embarrassment.

"It's good to see you too, Verona." Kal said somewhat shakily as she pried Verona free.

"Sorry," Verona said as she moved underneath Anton's arm, "It's been tough here for a while and seeing a friend again is a really good thing."

Kal looked between both of them.

"I've known you only for a few days, Verona. I don't know if that makes us friends."

Verona shrugged.

"It does to me." she said. "Thank-you for bringing him back safely."

Kal then looked at him.

"I think you're a good friend too, Kal."

She tried to hide it but here ears perked up.

"By the way Kal, why are you all...?" Verona waved over her own face, referencing Kal's cloth wrappings that covered her whole body, specifically her face.

Anton lent down to Verona's ear.

"We haven't told the bondsmen yet that Kal is a...you know. There were seven hundred of them and a lot less of us on the way back. I didn't want one of them doing something stupid while we were travelling through the forest."

Verona nodded thoughtfully.

"That's a good idea. But they'll need to be told soon, they could get even angrier when the truth comes out. It'll be like they couldn't be trusted with it."

Anton was taken a little aback by the change in Verona. She was more thoughtful and was trying to think into the future. He liked it a lot. It was a shame that it coincided with the Kobold attacks.

He parted from Verona's ear and stood upright again.

"I was meaning to ask, but I'm guessing that the Kobolds are not much of a threat now. If they are I would hope that you weren't just waiting for me to ask."

Verona smiled and looked up at him.

"Most of them are gone. Well, dead. I saw to that. There's still quite a few left but they're pretty wounded. We decided not to go out just in case they manage to ambush us. Besides, now that you're here it wont take more than a few of yours explody things and they'll be all dead."

There are those totems to Nithroel in the camp... I don't like where this escalation is heading.

"You took down thousands Kobolds by yourself?" Kal asked, some of the air seemed to escape from her lungs.

"Yep." Verona answered matter of factly.

Kal sighed and shook her head, bringing a hand up and pushing hard on her temple.

"I shouldn't be surprised with you two anymore. You are the strangest humans I've ever met."

Verona could not help but laugh, quickly followed by Anton and Kal. It felt good to laugh.

Raston made his way through the crowd and joined them on the cart.

"How are they doing?" Anton asked.

Raston smiled.

"Considering the city they just moved to is under an attack from Kobolds-"

"They'll be finished off soon." Verona cut in.

"Regardless, I think they are doing well. I was very nervous when I first arrived here. It looks like the other villagers are quite welcoming, though that might be since they think that a whole bunch of reinforcements arrived."

"Can anyone see Bertram or one of the others?" Anton asked.

They looked around. Kal made a noise and pointed towards the center of the village. Slowly making their way through the crowd was the unmistakeable bald head of Jeff, behind him looked to be Sam, Sybil and Bertram. The crowd parted as they realised they were important people.

"It's about time that you got back." Jeff said in a booming voice.

"We came as fast as we could. Not that we knew what was happening." Anton replied. "I hear that you got into the a bit of trouble while I was gone."

Jeff laughed.

"Yeah. It hasn't been that fun. They've been attacking the past twelve or so days, but now they've got nothing left. If you hadn't appeared in a few more days we would have seriously thought about heading in there and wiping them out. Now we got these new guys to help us...”

His head looked around to the new bondsmen, letting out a long whistle of surprise.

"This is a lot more than I was thinking you would bring." Bertram looked a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of new people present. It was almost their whole village again. “Maybe two or three hundred...how many have you brought?”

"A little over seven hundred. With everything that has happened, there isn't time to delay. Especially with these Kobold attacks."

Anton was not going to reference the Yellow Goblin attack they suffered before he left in the range of the bondsmen. He squatted down so he would be able to talk to Jeff without having to shout. Jeff and the three moved closer.

"All of these carts are filled with weapons and armour that we so desperately need. They're not the same quality of those special weapons that we found in the mountain but they look pretty good."

He opened up a thin wooden crate and showed the contents within. They looked quite pleased and happy to see the shiny pieces of armour packed tightly together.

"How many did you get?" Jeff asked. He began rubbing his hand over to metal chest piece.

"Quite a few. There's a lot more armour sets, swords, bows and crossbows as well as the arrows and bolts for each."

Bertram frowned.

"This looks like it cost quite a bit."

"Nothing too much." Anton replied. "About twenty gold coins, or one of those ruby crystals."

"Is that how much they are worth?" Bertram and Sybil asked. They had been sleeping next to a room filled with an unimaginable amount of wealth.

"I'll fill you guys in later about what happened at Maxill. But right now we have the Kobolds to deal with. I'm guessing that the Kobolds aren't going to attack just yet, but...how many did we loose?"

They all looked a little grim.

"About two hundred are badly wounded." Sybil answered quietly. "We've lost sixty seven."

"Fuck." Anton hissed.

There were not that many villagers and they would need all they could get, they could not afford to loose any to a gods grudge.

"Most died on the seventh day of the siege," Jeff continued, "When the third and fourth Kobold groups attacked. They just ran up the walls and poured through a breach. Verona put a stop to that but the damage had been done."

There was a faint and pained smile on his face.

"We lost a lot less than we would have if we didn't have the walls, or if Verona went with you."

If she had, you would all be dead.

"We'll get to the Kobolds soon enough, but I really want to get this sorted first. I'll have Verona explain it to me in a bit."

His eyes turned to the patiently waiting bondsmen.

"Do we have enough space and food, for these people?"

Bertram and Sybil nodded.

"We do,” Sybil answered, “So long as we all are willing to make some sacrifices to our rations and they are willing to sleep a little cramped. Verona made sure that we keep each-other informed on everything that happens around here. It seems strange that we did not do it properly every day, taking her to point it out."

He turned up and saw that Verona was looking very happy with herself. He was liking the change even more.

"I just want to get one thing sorted first, then I'll have to leave it to you guys to get the new bondsmen organised as best you can. We'll then deal with the Kobolds."

"You two aren't just going to...." Sam asked, eyes glancing between himself and Verona.

Verona scratched her neck, showing off the tips of a few of the red marks.

"We're going to have a talk first."

Sam looked quite regretful and mumbled an apology. She seemed to care quite deeply for Verona and to a lesser extent, him. It had been her that had pushed them both into a relationship. He half dreaded what she had managed to claw out of Verona about their sex life. Now she seemed very worried for her. Someone had to have told Verona the marks were spreading where she could not see, and that someone was probably Sam.

"What do you want to get sorted?" Bertram asked.

Antun looked towards Kal, still standing silently. His answer was obvious.

The last thing I want for her is to stay wrapped up like a mummy. Eventually people will get used to the strange person, and if she comes out with her heritage then, I don't know how they would react. Get it out of the way now. I might have to throw in a bit of flair to get the message across that she is not to be touched.

"We'll handle that now, then we can talk about what happened here exactly. Not really a good idea to do it out in the open."

"No. No it isn't." Bertram replied. There seemed to be something greater behind it but Anton did not want to push it now.

"Actually Sam, can I borrow you for a moment?" Anton asked.

"Sure. What do you need?"

Anton picked up the money box and handed it to Sam. She seemed surprised at how heavy it was.

"Can you put this back in the Main Hall along with...the rest of it."

She opened the box and peeked in, slamming it shut the moment she could see in.

"Um, sure. No problem."

She started to walk away, with to be box safely nestled in her arms, when Anton stopped her.

"And, could you leave these just inside the door to our house."

He placed the small bag on top of the box.

"What's in there?" Verona asked, hugging him in an attempt to get an answer out. Physical contact was fine for her, so long as it did not remind her of the new marks.

"A few presents for you." He said.

Her face lit up at the prospect.

"Really? Thank you Anton." she hugged him like it was for the last time.

"You don't even know what it is yet."

Verona shook her head.

"Doesn't matter. I know I'll like it." her face was beaming with her wide smile.

He rubbed her hair roughly and gave her another kiss on the forehead.

“Bertram, there are several barrels in the carts. They need to go to Jonathan's smithy. They're a part of the special project I have going. Just be careful not to get any fire near it. If you see any sort of light blue powder leaking from them, definitely don't get any fire on it.”

Bertram nodded.

“I'll get some people to do that once you've do whatever you're doing right now.”

“Thank-you.” Anton replied.

Now, how to do this right...

He turned to Raston, still standing and waiting. A plan was forming in his head.

"I think I'm going to need your help with this next bit. Just to make sure it all goes well."

Raston smiled and nodded.

"What do you need?"

---[]---

It took five or so minutes for the plan, such as it was, to form. His plan was basically the same that had been used on him to try and get the villagers to act against him, now just in reverse. He hoped it would work.

Verona had decided to sit on the money box to keep it safe. She sat with the spear across her lap, seemingly content to just sit there. He could read a bit of her face though, she was thinking deeply, probably about what she wanted to say to him about her growing marks.

Kal, on the other hand, was a complete mess. She was having trouble standing after Anton explained what he wanted to do. She asked if it was wise to do it this way but relented after he explained his reasoning. It did nothing to calm her down.

"Kal?"

She did not respond.

"Kal?" Anton said with a little more force, enough to get her attention.

She turned to look at him. Her body was shaking and her ears were pinned back as far as they could go.

"I need you to take some deep breaths to calm you down. You look terrible and stressed out."

"I am a little." Kal admitted.

It's not like I'm asking you to strip naked and run through the streets...although, from your perspective, this probably is like that.

"It'll be over before you know it. Then you'll be able to walk around with the sun on your face, just like you said."

Kal glanced over and nodded. She took several deep breaths which seemed to calm her a fraction.

“Okay. But only because I trust you.”

Kal took another deep breath and readied herself. There would be no going back in a minute.

Raston knocked on the edge of the cart, letting him know that he was ready.

Alright, let's get this over with.

Anton stood on top of one of the larger boxes to elevate him well above the crowd. Verona stood up as well, keeping the money box infront of her.

"Everyone, can I have your attention please!” he said as he clapped his hands.

Two seconds later the whole area was dead quiet, one could have heard a pin drop. It was a bit quicker than Anton expected. They had been kept waiting long enough.

"Thank you all for waiting so patiently while we sorted out some issues and said our hellos."

He paused for a moment to make sure they were all listening. They were, which made him feel all the more nervous.

"As you have probably heard, there have been some Kobold attacks."

Some light murmuring began from the new bondsmen.

"This threat has been neutered and will be finished off later today. We have more than enough strength in this village to see them off."

Anton raised his hand, summoning five large lightning and fire bombs above his head. They burst into life, the light from both types reflected in the eyes of all those that saw.

The bondsmen, as if they had been stunned for a moment by what they were witnessing, burst into life and conversation. Looks of fear, surprise and terror covered their faces, many covered their mouths with their hands. It was not exactly the response he intended. He had not used his magic during the travel so they had no idea what he was capable of. They probably thought he was just some sort of strange eccentric.

Many times were the words 'By the Holy Father' were uttered at him, in the same way that people on Earth said 'Jesus Christ'.

From what little he had gleamed from the Qaiviel religion from Raston, was that it was almost a complete distillation of the stereotypes of Christianity. There was a divine being, the Holy Father, that made everything human and good, while another unknown, hateful and horrible, creature made everything bad and sinful. Beast-kin certainly fell into the second category. He hoped that they his display of power would help keep any anger at bay, should the plan not work.

The crowd began to quieten down. He saw some of the new bondsmen looked to the villagers to see if this was some kind of trick. Their blank faces, some looked to be in awe or relief, that told them it most certainly was not.

“While we have you all in one place I wanted to tell you about your state as bondsmen.”

There were many murmurs of dissatisfaction from the new bondsmen.

“Like Raston and the bondsmen that came with him, you are all free.”

He waited a moment for it to sink in. It appeared to be taking some time for them to process.

“There will be no whips, chains or threats of punishment here for those who work and contribute to Atros. You will be given food and shelter for living and working here. Those are the conditions for your new life.”

They seemed to be liking the idea. Most nodded and smiled in agreement. They looked to Raston who nodded, that seemed to make them quite a bit more relaxed. After coming from the oppressive rule of Duchess Belinda, and now promised far better conditions, he hoped it would make the next part easier.

“But, before we get to the specifics of what life will be like for you here, which my good friends here will explain,” Anton motioned to Bertram, Sybil and Jeff, “There is something that I need to talk to you first about, one that may cause some concern."

The bondsmen grumbled something lightly but held their collective tongues.

"During the trip, you would have undoubtedly met or at least seen Kal."

Anton moved to the side a little bit so they could get a good look at her. It seemed to be nothing good for her nerves. He could hear her whispering her mantra at great speed while she tried to stay still. Verona, thankfully, saw this as well and stood beside her for support. That seemed to help.

"She has been a great help to all of us here, especially on the way to Maxill."

There were many murmurs of agreement from the villagers that went with him, and a surprising number of bondsmen.

"But you have probably wondered why she is completely covered."

Here goes nothing.

"That is because I was a little worried what you might think or act if you saw that she is...different. In fact, she is a Beast-kin."

The bondsmen went silent. All their attention snapped to her. Kal kept her calm, somehow.

"Now, you have all been travelling with her for the past twelve days so you know she isn't dangerous just to be near her. I don't know what you have been told about them but I know that she is a kind and caring person, despite all that she has been through. She is a close friend of mine and I want her to be treated the same way as anybody else."

He looked back, Kal taking this as the sign to show her face. Her hands entered her hood and loosened the knot. The cloth came free as she pulled it away with one hand while the other pulled back her hood.

Her dark aqua hair and fur almost shone in the light. But it was her eyes that caught their attention, there was no way to hide the green horizontal cat slit iris's. They were a dead give away for her heritage.

The silence was getting to her rapidly. Her ears were starting to draw back in fear and her body started to retreat.

"Like the rest of you, she is a free citizen of Atros, and I will see no harm come to her from anyone! Now, I do not know what your holy teachings have to say-"

"Fuck the Church!" came a loud voice from the back of the group.

All attention moved to a tall man at the back.

"I remember their teachings, that Beast-kin are the result of our most vile sins and sent to wander the world to haunt us of our failings."

Kal looked a little distressed at hearing this.

That's a bit much for rhetoric.

"But they haven't done a thing for us. Apart from take our money, land and children for their stupid beliefs."

They aren't going to end up being paedophile priests, are they? At least just let them be corrupt.

"They didn't protect us from the Duchess."

The man pointed a finger towards him.

"When he came along the Duchess changed for the better. If he says that beast-kin is alright, then I'll believe in something that actually helped us."

The crowd murmured, mostly in agreement. Some still looked a little dubious about even looking at her. A few more pushes might be needed.

Another voice broke through the noise, this one older but softer. It was an old woman. The crowd parted slightly to let her voice be heard.

"My granddaughter stabbed her foot on a thorn from a Vorpa vine. That lady took the time and removed the thorn, which I could not, and healed her. Had I had known that she was a beast-kin I would have never have let her anyway near her. I'm glad I was wrong. I...I think differently about your kind now."

Anton turned to see Kal looking a little sheepish. She was not on the cart all the time. He felt relieved and strangely proud to know that she would help people who would otherwise hate her so much.

“It causes rot of the flesh if it's not removed right away.” Kal told him in the lightest whisper. “It has special spines that hook into the flesh and releases a poison, so it has to be removed carefully.”

Most of the crowd were, at least, okay with her presence.

"She's pretty cute too!" came another voice.

Anton could not tell where it came from but it lightened the mood. There were a few chuckles from the men, and some angry looks from women directed at those men.

He turned to see that Kal was trying her best not to turn scarlet. Even the tips of her ears, hidden underneath a layer of dark aqua fur, was noticeably more red. If truth were to be told, he did find Kal pretty cute, and not because she was just exotic. Her face no longer looked haggard and had filled out somewhat. So she still looked slim but looked more alive and healthy. The eyes were certainly not off putting, in their own way they were quite pretty.

What the rest of her body looked like underneath the tight cloth wrappings had cropped up in his head more than once. The way her ears moved when she was happy or embarrassed was the most entrancing. They made him feel happy when he saw them twitch and pull back in happiness. He did want to know what they felt like, he knew that the fur on her feet was incredibly soft so it was probably the same. Verona had wanted to get a chance to feel her tail for some time, she would be pretty annoyed if she found out he had knew how soft her fur could be.

Verona saw Kal struggling to hold it together after being called cute and nearly burst into laughter. Kal turned to Anton for help, she would have not had something positive said about her said in such a public venue. Or anything positive at all.

He smiled warmly, which turned out to be the wrong thing for her.

Her head lurched back as her face rapidly overtook scarlet in colour. She let out a cute whimper as she covered her ears with her hands and held her head down.

Verona lost it and started laughing. It was not long before others were as well.

Kal started to laugh herself, something he had not heard her do before. There had been an odd chuckle but never a laugh.

"Okay. Okay." Anton said as he waved his hands down to control the crowd. "As you can see they get embarrassed just like anyone else here would if they were put on the spot like that. She is more 'human' than quite a few people I have met."

Kal started to return to her normal shade while Verona tugged on her sleeve and started whispering into her ear.

"But on a more serious note there isn't going to be a discussion on the matter. Ever. About whether beast-kin should be allowed to live here; that they're sleeping in a house, where they can go and what they can do and talk to. There will be none of that."

Everyone was completely quiet.

"If anyone, and I mean anyone, has any ideas of doing something like that they can answer to me."

He summoned another large lightning bomb, this one made as powerful as he could while keeping it small. The ball shuddered and felt like it wanted to escape its small confines. Arcs of lightning burst out, half a meter long then fizzling out with a loud crack, before Anton withdrew it.

The message was clear. Kal, and any future beast-kin, would be under his protection and if they did not like it there would be lightning and fire to deal with.

He hoped it would be enough until they got to know each-other better.

"If you don't want to live in a city that houses beast-kin, you can turn around and leave right now."

He held out his arm towards the forest.

A few people going in there, without any protection or weapons, was a death sentence. They could either get used to the idea or they could die. Those were their options.

There appeared to be no objections.

"So," Anton clapped his hands loudly to get their attention, "You have all been waiting long enough. We will get you some food and somewhere to sleep. Work will be assigned to you after lunch."

There were some murmurs amongst the new bondsmen.

"Compared to Maxill, and the Duchess, life will be easier for you here. But this is not a charity." He explained. "Everyone has to contribute in some form."

Before any more objections could be heard, Jeff's booming voice quashed any new voices. He quickly started to move the new bondsmen into groups with armed villagers escorting. Some very small groups formed to the side, judging from the faces they were the more specialised former bondsmen.

Raston hopped back onto the cart, looking quite pleased with himself.

"That all went well." He said.

"For now, yes."

Raston tilted his head.

"Once they've had time to settle in and relax, time to think, that's what I'm worried about." Anton answered.

"That they might decide they don't like the idea of living with a beast-kin?" Verona asked.

Anton nodded.

"Yeah. But they've seen my magic and they'll probably ask about you to."

Anton wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she moved closer. The marks were not giving her any mental pain, for now at least.

"So there shouldn't be any trouble."

Raston smiled and needed.

"Your people worked wonders." Anton said, just as Raston was about to leave.

"The last two weren't the people I had."

"Who were they?"

Raston shrugged.

"Two people with honest thoughts. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Yeah, your girlfriend is getting away."

Anton nodded to the edge of the dispersing crowd. Dana waited at the edge, still sitting on her horse.

"Girlfriend?" Verona asked quietly. Anton gave her a little squeeze.

Dana started moving away to the central plaza along with a few other riders.

"Um. Yeah." Raston stammered as he hopped off the cart. "I'll see you all at dinner then."

He raced through the crowd following Dana. It reminded Anton of he behaved when he was much younger, back on Earth.

"When... When did that happen?" Verona asked, seemingly not believing what she was seeing.

"On the return trip. They kept disappearing after a few days and it's not hard to figure out why."

"Wow" Verona answered.

"Sorry about having to put you through that Kal but it kind of needed to be done now." Anton said.

Kal smiled.

"It's fine. I'm glad that I don't have to cover my face for a while."

"You really liked it when they called you cute." Verona slyly teased.

Kal's face started to flush again but she kept it from getting as bad as it did before.

“It was manipulative what you did. Just like what you said you did with the last bondsmen. And now with me. Very manipulative.”

Anton smiled and shrugged.

“I'll do what needs to be done. I don't think it was as bad as last time. Now they are free and have some friends to help them settle in.”

Kal smiled again, she scratched at the torn off ear.

"What Um...Ugh" Kal coughed to correct herself. "Are you going to deal with the Kobolds now?"

Anton nodded.

"Yep. Shouldn't take too long. Can we take you along as well? See if there's anything valuable in the camp."

Kal smiled, not enough to see her teeth, and nodded deeply.

"Yes. I would...like to." she said.

She looked down at Verona's hands, still covered.

"I've been wanting to ask but why are your hands covered? Have you been injured?" There was genuine concern in her voice.

Verona looked very awkward.

"Not exactly." she said quietly.

She unwrapped a section on the top of her hand, showing the snaking red marks underneath.

"What...?" was all Kal could manage.

"Yeah. We're going to have to figure out what they are. Later."

Verona's face frowned deeply.

"Do you know anything about this?"

Kal shook her head.

"Damn. I thought you might. Oh well."

Verona missed it, but Kal opened her mouth to speak but shut it soon after. She was probably about to give an apology where none was needed.

"Alright, we better get this over with." Verona said, freeing herself from Anton and climbing down the cart. Anton followed with Kal taking a moment to hesitate before descending.

Verona turned around to face them as Kal's feet touched the ground.

"Avery's still at the south wall with the soldiers. Jeff should be there soon, once he's got everyone started to get settled in. I'll show you what we've been up against."

She turned and started to walk to the south, making sure they were both close behind.

"Let's finish those bastards off!" she said with no small amount of glee, throwing her spear tip into the air.

------------

(Updated Map: http://imgur.com/jhTZLJC )

Hello.

I wanted to put this one out now, so you guys don't have to wait another month and a half for the next one.

On that subject, the next chapter is undergoing editing, the next is needing heavy work and the next is going well.

So, this chapter.

The return to hom, finding it had been under siege for nearly half the time. Not a fun thing.

Back at Atros, and quite a few people died. The villagers, with Verona's help, managed to hold against 6 grouos of Kobolds and quite a few of them in each. Some people have died but not someone from the 'main cast', it's not like Atros would get away with no casualties under siege for that long with many thousands of enemies.

Verona's marks have grown immensely, and so has the strain on her mind from her power. So long as she's not using the power it's not a problem, also she's treating it as a 'out of sight and out of mind' problem right now. She's not mad though. She's pushing it back for later as there are things that need to be done for the whole group, so a bit more on how she's changing.

Got Kal's heritage out of the way quickly, while the new bondsmen are still new. Used a bit of magic for intimidation and a bit of crowd control to get the people thinking in the right direction. Kind of hard to go against someone that is essentially a walking nuke, that can use magic as easily as one breathes. It won't take them long to ask about Verona and what she is capable of too, and that she is with Anton and a friend of Kal.

Next chap will be finishing off the remains of the Kobolds and securing their area for the immediate future, starting to find out how much the Elven goddess, Nithroel, actually has to do with this attack and preparing for the future.

If everything goes as planned, should be actually meeting Nithroel at Chp. 39, so look forward to that.

Right, that's everything.

Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

Chapter 037 - Cleaning Up

Chapter 037:

Verona led them along the southern section of the second wall. It was painfully clear as to how much destruction the villagers, and Verona, had been able to unleash upon the Kobolds. While the villagers had suffered competitively little, by staying on the defensive and using their new wall to great effect, the Kobold attackers had suffered far worse. Everywhere he looked there were Kobold corpses. Some were intact while others were just a pile of unidentifiable mess of flesh and bone. The further they got to the southern gate the more the bodies began to pile up. He hoped there was a good reason as to why they had not be disposed of properly.

Large blue crows pecked and tore at the decaying bodies. Most seemed quite fat from their feast and had trouble flying away as they approached. They squawked angrily that there feast had been disturbed, but returned the moment they had passed. At least they would start to dispose of the flesh.

The smell, permeating every part of his nose, was an incredibly vile mix of rot and putrefaction that he had never even dreamed of inhaling. A gentle breeze came from the north and blew the smell towards the bone-yard. Now he was grateful that it had been blowing that way since they arrived. It would be a lot harder to speak, and to listen, when everyone was trying their best to not wretch from the smell.

Kal spluttered violently as they moved through a particularly dense section. She had a much better sense of smell then them, it must have been torture for her.

When he turned to Kal she already had covered her mouth and nose with her face cloth.

Verona seemed at peace travelling in front, her feet making delicate movements so as to not to get anything on them. There was nothing to indicate that was disgusted by the corpses. She was even humming something, the same thing she had been humming at the lake when it was just the two of them.

"Verona?" Anton asked, suppressing a cough.

"Oh. Sorry." she slowed down and turned around. "I know there is quite a bit of a mess here."

"A bit?" Anton Kal asked incredulously.

Verona chuckled.

"This is where I have been for most of the time that you've been away."

She turned forward to see what was infront. A few meters away there was a severed Kobold head; its eyes glazed, fur matted and stained with blood, and its bloated tongue hung loosely out its mouth. There was no indication of which body it belonged to.

"These things now piss me off..." she ran ahead and kicked the head as hard as she could, "As much as the goblins now!"

The head veered off sharply to the right, its uneven shape made it difficult to travel in a straight line. The thudding roll stopped as it gently collided with another pile of Kobold corpses. Most of the bodies did not appear to be in one piece and were in varying levels of decay.

Verona turned around and looked incredibly embarrassed.

"Sorry. It's hard to stay serious when there's so much of it around. You've got to do what you need to do to stay sane. Well..."

Anton looked ahead. In the distance he could see the large wooden beams that formed the hinges of the gate. There were quite a few villagers either side of the gate, all armoured with their attention clearly focused outside. Not even the few guards at the section they stood by paid them much mind beyond a quick glance and an appreciative nod. Their attention was focused outside. They knew that they could not drop their duties and celebrate, if they did it could lead to another Kobold attack.

"Why haven't you tried moving some of these bodies away?" Anton asked, trying his best not to be offensive in his tone.

Verona laughed.

"We did, when it got really bad. Somehow it's better now, or maybe we're just used to it. But we can't take them to the bone-yard, for obvious reasons, and the wind kept changing so much that it really didn't matter. It still reeked like mad no matter where it went. So in the end we decided to not waste the energy and just leave it in these piles."

She stopped near a relatively intact Kobold corpse laying on its side, pointing her spear at the poison spines that kept it on its side and from rolling onto its back.

"But those spines."

She looked back at Kal.

"It's a good thing that you warned us about them, Kal. I got a bit on my hands and it burned for days. It's fine when they are in one piece like this, one person grabs the arms and the other the legs, but when they are a giant blob..."

She pointed to the rotting mound that the Kobold head now rested on.

"Then those spines are mixed within it. And those..."

Verona opened and contracted her hand, as if she was simulating a beating heart.

"Those sack things, that carry the poison or venom...crap, break and it just leaks throughout the mess. It becomes too difficult to handle."

Her face turned a little sheepish as she scratched her cheek.

"Aaand I told them once you get back you can just burn it all and heal anyone that's really sick."

"Well, I don't know about being a mobile incinerator and cooking stove."

Verona missed the first one and giggled at the second.

"As soon as we've dealt with the Kobolds I'll help with that. The smoke would let them know something is happening. And then..."

She understood and nodded accordingly.

As she turned around she smiled.

"Ah, Avery's on this side of the gate. Come on."

She came back to his side and tired to reach out for his hand. There was still some hesitation on her face. He took the initiative and held her hand. She seemed quite embarrassed but still smiled. It was his way of saying that he would still be with her no matter what happened.

She pulled him through the clear sections, Kal following closely behind. As Verona turned around her eyes caught Kal's. Something drew on her face. Something that made Kal look very uncomfortable.

"Kal?" Verona's voice was steady, almost unnaturally so.

It made Kal hesitant to answer.

"Yes?" she asked with some trepidation. There was a little flicker in her voice.

"You were living out in the wilderness for some time, right?"

Kal nodded. She looked very nervous.

"Do you know if different types of Kobolds can work together?"

Kal exhaled deeply in relief. She, and Anton, thought it might have been something antagonistic.

"Not that I've seen. They usually keep to groups of their own kind and only come together to fight."

Verona frowned a little.

"Each-other. They come to fight each-other."

"I heard Jeff say there were at least four groups of Kobolds." Anton said. "How many were there?"

"Six." Verona seemed quite unhappy with her answer. "Six different groups attacked us, each with more than four thousand fighting Kobolds. Each brought another totem for their camp. The first was the most with about six thousand and the others had somewhere between three and four thousand. I couldn't count exactly so I just did the best I could."

Kal whimpered loudly.

“That's...twenty four, twenty five thousand Kobolds at least...”

“And under a hundred deaths on our side!” Verona puffed out her chest proudly. “Most of the Kobolds were killed by me, and not all in one day. Although that might be why...”

She scratched at her neck and tiny edges of the red marks that licked up at her chin. He guessed what she was implying.

"Fucking hell,” Anton exhaled loudly, as he rubbed her head. “You've had it rough."

Verona smiled warmly.

"Wait, so you're saying they weren't all the same type?" Anton asked, "They weren't all brown with white patches?"

Verona shook her head and broke her grip. She walked over to a pile of bodies and picked up a severed ear and what was probably once a Kobold's arm. There was nothing on her face to show that she found any of this disturbing. It was a little odd to see her do it so calmly.

Then again, when I got here I carved apart a goblin to see what it was made of. I didn't feel much at the time and everyone probably thought me as crazy. This is no different. Besides, she's been through more in two weeks than I have my entire life. Of course she could become desensitised to it.

Verona stopped a meter away and held up her two grizzly artefacts.

"Four of the six groups were those brown and white ones, but there were two that were different."

She raised the ear higher.

"This is from a grey Kobold."

She raised the severed arm next.

"And this is from a sort of dark reddish one."

Her attention turned to Kal.

"Any ideas?"

Kal stared at both pieces for some time before looking towards a body of a brown Kobold.

"I haven't actually seen that many Kobolds but I did know there were different types. I didn't know of any groups that would come together to fight something else. There would need to be a really good reason."

She turned and looked him deeply in the eyes. Her own green cat slit eyes were full of worry.

"You must have really....pissed them off."

It was a strange thought but Anton had not actually heard Kal swear. Everyone else in the village did at some point, but not her, yet. Not even when her foot was being torn apart by a wolf or when he ripped out the impaled tooth. She was very tough. A life in the wilderness taught her how to be tough, if not she would be dead.

"We did destroy one of their camps." Anton put his hand on his bearded chin. He really had to do something about that, it was getting annoying in more ways than one.

"They do that to each other all the time." Kal answered. "This is much greater than that."

"Nithroel."

Verona looked sadly at him.

"That elven goddess, the one with the leaf and antlers for her symbol. She's the one who's mark they worship in their camp."

She walked and took his hand gently, the previous sense of apprehension faded. Her fingers traced over the three glyphs on his hand. The ones of his gods. Her fingers stopped at the white pair of hands, Tethra, the goddess of prayer.

"You live here now." she stared, tapping it lightly. "And have made this village stronger than it ever was, even before the Yellow Goblins. During the fighting some people started to cry out to your gods so that you might return."

She let go of his hand and looked him in the eyes.

"Imagine what this place will be like in a few more winters. A city, a thriving city with humans and beast-kin living and working together."

Kal ears perked up at hearing this.

"Massive numbers of your weapons of war, giant farms, mines, forges and stone buildings. Huge cities covering the land. And temples built..."

She took his hand again.

"To the gods that she hates and hate her."

"Yeah. I would want to get rid of it too," Anton replied with a grimace, "Before they became a threat."

He sighed loudly.

"I fear you may be right."

Verona looked quite solemn.

"But I do like your idea for the future of Atros. It would be nice to see it that way."

He moved forward, placed his arm around her shoulder and got her to start moving again.

"I know. A place were people like Kal can walk around freely and be just like us."

"Thank you. Both of you." Kal said in a near whisper.

He stopped and turned around, her head was hanging down as she tried to hide the faint blush that was forming on her face.

"For?" Anton asked.

"For not calling me a half breed. For calling me a...person." she smiled, the flush was just noticeable.

"Well, if we're going to make it a reality we need to deal with these Kobolds first." Anton said as he waved his free arm towards the gate.

"Yes!..." It looked as if she wanted to say something more but held it back. It was not an apology so Anton was not sure what she might have just said. He decided to let it go.

Verona, still in his arm, chuckled and pulled him along.

---[]---

Avery looked as cold and emotionless as when Anton had first met him. This time, when he saw him, there was almost a smile on his face as they walked up the wooden stairs to his side of the gate.

"I must say that I'm glad to see you back, Anton." his demeanour or words had not changed during the battle.

"Me too." Anton replied.

Verona freed herself from his arm and rushed for the wall. Some meters away from Avery there was a small wooden crate. Verona stood on top of it, with it she could see over clearly as she rested her body upon the wall.

Anton moved to the wall as well, Kal taking a spot between the two of them.

"How many are left?" Anton asked.

Avery was quiet for a moment before he answered.

"At last count there were three thousand or so."

"About a thousand that can actually fight properly." Verona supplemented.

"And most of those are wounded in some way," Avery continued. "Most of those are thanks to your woman there."

Verona chuckled nervously and scratched at her neck. Seeing her in so much discomfort about the marks was making him feel quite ill. He'd never really thought as to what affect the power was having on her mind, probably before it was nothing. But now, with the marks covering most of her body, it must be taking a toll on her. He wanted to console her even more but there were things that had to be done first.

"How many villagers can we spare?" Anton asked.

"About two hundred that can fight." Avery replied. "But that is more Jeff's thing."

Anton looked back towards the center and could see a large man with a bald head moving towards them.

You work quick, don't you?

"You'll be happy to know, Avery, that we have about a hundred more crossbows and bows, as well as the bolts and arrows."

He looked genuinely surprised and happy.

"I don't know how much you had to spend-"

Compared to a human life, probably very little.

"But they will be a great help. Pity you couldn't get them the first time."

Anton thought he said "didn't" instead of “couldn't” and was about to correct him when he realised what he had actually said. Avery seemed to notice this as well, he looked a little embarrassed.

"I doubt that if you could have gotten these the first time you would not have bothered. You really do seem to care about this village."

"I live here now. And I have many people that I like here. Of course I'm going to help as much as I can, however I can.."

Kal looked at him oddly, her eyes squinting just ever so slightly. Before he had time to ask it was gone, replaced by the sound of heavy boots walking upon wood.

He turned around and saw Jeff walking up the stairs.

"Sorry about that, took a little bit longer than I thought to get them where they needed to go."

He smiled at Anton.

"Seems your little magic show did the trick, they're quite docile."

"I think they've been bred like that." Anton replied. "They've spent quite some time under an oppressive leader so it's easier for them to just do as they're told and keep their heads down."

"Easier. But still a terrible life." Kal added. She looked very sad as she said it, her shoulders drooped and she stared at her feet. He still had no real idea of what sort of horrors she has had to endure. His quip had done her no good.

"Perhaps with some more freedom the bondsmen will change." Anton suggested.

Kal had no visible change, even Verona looked worried for her.

"Anyway, I take it you've seen the all the new armour and weapons we bought?"

Jeff nodded.

"Just getting some of the guys to unload them properly and put them into the armoury barns... You thinking of attacking them now?"

"Absolutely. Attack now while they are still weak and wipe them out for good. How many soldiers can you spare?"

"About one fifty, two hundred or so."

"Get them armoured up and with the best weapons. They'll be my support while we advance on them."

"I'll get them ready." Jeff said as he started to move back down.

"I want to have a look at these new weapons. I'll make sure some of my archers join in." Avery said as he followed Jeff.

"Should not be too long."

That just left the three of them on top of the wall.

Anton moved so he was in-between them both.

"Will you be coming with us?" He asked Verona.

She took a deep and slow breath, her back bending backwards and forwards.

"Yes. Yes I will. But... I don't want to have to use my power unless I really need to. I'm not as comfortable as I used to be. Besides, Nithroel has quite a bit to answer for. I want to see her servants suffer with my own eyes. "

"Just make sure you stay in the centre. I take it you're coming with us, Kal?"

She nodded furiously.

"Well, let's get ready then."

---[]---

It was surprising to see the armed villagers assembled so quickly. They looked like a small army with their new weapons and steel armour, their steel weapons clanking against each-other with every movement. The archers wore thick brown leather armour, separating them from the dull grey of the other soldiers.

They all looked ready to fight. Spending days waiting on the defensive, unable to attack as they lacked the numbers and fear of a possible counter attack, had left them pent up with anger and thirsting for revenge.

Jeff and Avery had decided to come along as well as the leaders. They were both at the front with some of the best armour and weapons they had.

Anton stood near the front as well with Kal and Verona standing either side. Kal stared at the closed gate with a strange confidence while Verona looked extremely worried and concerned. He knew that she would not stay in Atros, despite her discomfort, and could not be forced to stay either. She wanted to see this to the end with her own eyes.

Compared to everyone else Anton felt a little under-dressed. They all had armour of some description on while he, and Kal, were wearing simple clothing. He was very glad that he had such destructive magic at his disposal to rely on.

There was a loud call from the rear and the gate began to open. Two large villagers grabbed the beams near the join of one side of the gate and pulled hard.

It creaked and groaned, along with the two villagers, until it opened completely.

There was another shout and the villagers marched forward. The villagers had to feed their way through the small opening. There was some jostling but it seemed like that the knowledge of what they were about to do kept them in a strange quiet and orderly state.

Outside it was an even more grizzly sight. The blood, over a week old in some parts, was a strange mixture of black and reds. It had pooled and stared to congeal around the few grass blades brave enough to stand tall.

Parts of Kobolds were everywhere. Piles had formed where they had been struck down with arrows while they tired to climb over their dead comrades. There was something resembling a pathway through the piles, by virtue of there being less bodies and dried blood. The villagers started to follow through the pathway, always keeping a watchful eye out. Just in case something was going to leap out at them.

The first steps of the villagers cracked the layer of blood. Their heavy boots crushed down through the hardened surface. Each person that walked over it caused it to shatter even more until it was a sticky crystal mass that stained their boots red.

The smell was utterly horrific. The wind had been blowing quite steadily and strongly to the south, sparing them from the worst of it. Now they were in the center of it all, with no way for Anton to burn it away without alerting the Kobolds that something terrible was coming for them. The smell inside the walls was nothing compared to this.

The vast scale of death and destruction of was undoubtedly mostly Verona's handiwork. It was terrifying on the wall, doubly so now they were in the thick of it.

"You really went all out with this, didn't you?" Anton lent down to Verona and asked quietly.

She chuckled nervously. Another blue crow squawked as the villagers got too close and it flew away.

"Yeah. Something like that. I did what I had to do to get us all through this."

He gave her head a vigorous rub, getting a squeak of delight out from her and a beaming smile. At least she was still able to make that face.

They moved slowly to avoid the larger lumps of bodies and blood. Even though, in many places it was days old, he could still see a green tinge to the blood. The Kobold poison was still present.

He looked at everyone's feet, they were all wearing some kind of footwear. Hopefully enough to stop the poison from getting in. But there was one that really was not wearing anything like a boot.

Anton turned to Kal. She had her bow out and an arrow knocked in readiness.

"There still seems to be Kobold poison all over the place. Are your...wrappings...thick enough?"

Kal looked down at her feet.

"They're fine at the moment. If it starts to get through I’ll let you know."

With her face cloth gone it was much easier to read her emotions. She did not seem to be lying, she was old and mature enough to let him know if it was. He nodded and left it at that.

When they reached the halfway point to the bone-yard the Kobolds awoke in a frenzy of movement. However it was quite clear that they were not as strong as they had once been. Even from their current distance he could see some collapse into a motionless heap as they tried to move.

They look rather sad and pathetic now. Doesn't make me not want to kill them though.

He was almost within range of his most powerful magic, the tethered rings of mana. Fire, again, was out as he wanted to keep the sprawling camp in as good condition as he could, in case there was anything valuable there. He did feel a little bad for Esperit. There were quite a few situations where using fire would be a detriment. Like now when they needed to investigate the ruins, without them being scorched to ruins.

That left the lightning magic.

They were very close now. The Kobolds were starting to panic as they tried to get anyone that could stand to fight. His stomach turned a little when there were very small ones, children, amongst the horde ready to attack.

He glanced around and saw that his feeling was not reflected in any of their faces. Everyone here had no sympathy for these creatures. Not even Kal, who had demonstrated her resolve when she had shot a young Kobold in the eye without so much as a moments pause.

Feeling the odd one out, he took a deep breath and readied the magic in his mind.

The camp was constructed with the six totems in the middle, the large tents behind them and radiating outward were the smaller tents. There were no tents infront or directly to the side of the totems. It gave them a clear line to Atros, and now the reverse was true. In the center, with the stone totems, over a thousand Kobolds had gathered to fight them. A few, that wore extra pieces of hide clothing and decorative pieces, tried their best to rally the horde but it was not enough. They could clearly see what was coming for them.

While they were screeching to whip their own soldiers into a murderous frenzy, the villagers were silent. Only the sound of metal and the stomping of boots came from them.

Jeff and Avery slinked through the cautiously marching villagers to Anton.

"You have an ideas for the battle?" Jeff asked.

He felt Verona pout next to him.

"Just because Anton is back doesn't make him in charge of the battle."

Jeff looked a little taken aback by her words. So was Anton.

"I understand that." Jeff said, recovering from Verona's unexpected words, "It's just that with a mage, that can do what you do, I wanted to know if there was a plan that involved your abilities."

Verona looked a little embarrassed and pulled on Anton's sleeve.

"When the Kobolds attacked I kind of had to use your name, telling Jeff that you had faith in his abilities to lead. I guess I kind of flipped back to it there."

"It's alright."

He gave her a quick kiss on the head. Considering what they had all been through he was not going to chastise her, or anyone, about having frayed nerves. It's likely that Verona, and most of the soldiers, had to sleep right next to the wall in very stressful conditions so they could respond to the Kobolds. Of course they were stressed.

"Sorry Jeff." Verona apologised. "I was very rude...It's been a very stressful time, hasn't it?"

Jeff nodded, continuing to advance with the rest of the villagers.

"It has."

"I want to save as much of the camp as I can so we can look for clues." Anton began. "So I won't be using my fire magic or the large lightning rings."

Sorry Esperit, it seems that I won't be able to use you. Again.

He hoped that his mental apology would get through to her. If he just wanted to destroy the camp it would be the perfect magic, but not right now.

"So I'll be using the lightning bolts and bombs this time. Just don't let us charge forward like we did at the quarry. That was the only time we've really been on the offensive and that whole thing could have gone bad."

Kal looked at him confused but remained quiet. He made a note to tell her one day.

Jeff grimaced at the thought of that fight. It was the first time that they, as a whole, were on the offensive and it had nearly lead to a disaster. One which could have seen the death of his partner, Sam. Anton could see the mental images flash before his eyes.

"Good... Good thing to bring up."

"Do they have any archers? The goblins even had archers."

Jeff, Avery and Verona shook their heads.

"They didn't have any archers." Avery replied. "Or javelin throwers, or anything at all that could attack from a distance. They just tried to climb up the walls."

"Even the goblins had archers." Anton mumbled. “That's good then, gives us an advantage in range.”

"Avery," Jeff began, "Get the archers near the front and have them start attacking as soon as they can. If they see Anton's magic they might just run, and then we'll have an even bigger problem on our hands."

Either they disperse and keep us on edge for the next couple weeks, or they find more Kobolds and tell them what they will have to fight. I don't like either of them. Better let not them know exactly what we are capable of and make them think they could fight us off.

Avery nodded and whistled sharply. The archers looked towards him as he led them to the front of the villagers.

They were almost in range of the arrows now. Quite a few more Kobolds were emerging and holding wooden spears and spines in shaking and terrified hands. Some of the tents had not moved at all, he hoped there would not be another incident like at the quarry. The idea of hundreds of Kobolds spilling out of the tents onto the surrounded villagers was not a pretty one.

Almost a hundred meters away they stopped. The villagers at the front held their shields against the ground, so they would not have to carry the weight, while the archers moved in between. Kal looked to Anton. He gave her a little nod and she moved to the front. Some of the soldiers and archers looked a little surprised but said nothing when they saw her bow. She, a half breed beast-kin, was going to fight alongside them. Stories of how she had handled herself against the wolf pack might have already been spread amongst the villagers.

"Draw." Avery said, strangely quietly.

Anton did not know if the Kobolds could understand human language. But even a dog can understand what a specific sound meant, and it would be not different with the Kobolds. They could have heard it every time they attacked the village.

Some seemed to realise that something bad was coming for them. A few on the edges of the rough line formation began to turn and run. Their tails tucked between their legs as they ran. Grey Kobolds snapped and barked at the fleeing brown and red Kobolds but it had not affect.

"Loose!"

Twangs of arrows being fired filled the silent air. He could see them soar through the air. So to did the Kobolds.

There was a screech before the first arrow landed. Then thuds of iron tips striking through flesh and bone.

Then they screamed.

Avery did not have that many archers in Atros but he had brought nearly forty with him. Anton reasoned that they must have trained with the bows and crossbows even though they did not have enough of them. Now they did, and they seemed extremely happy to have the weapons to use. Oddly, they did not bring any crossbows.

Perhaps all the people trained in using them are still at Atros for defence. Maybe it's because they're slower to use than a bow... But anyone, with enough strength, can use one. It might be that.

Another volley flew into the Kobolds before they stopped screaming, or realised what was happening. Anton could see that each archer had well over forty arrows in their quivers. They would cause immense damage before the villagers even needed to engage in melee.

Four more volleys were fired, each with deadly results, until the Kobolds line began to break and crumble.

A few Kobolds at the front, no longer able to withstand the mental attack of their comrades death screams and the knowledge that they were just going to be destroyed from afar, broke ranks and charged. Again the Grey Kobolds tried to hold them back but a fever broke out amongst the ragged horde. Within a few seconds they were nearly all running at them, spears lowered and their dog snouts snapping in rage. It would have been terrifying, if the villagers were not armoured. Or had two mages.

Anton was surprised at how fast they could move, injured as they were. A few more seconds after they started running and they had already reached a quarter of the distance.

"Jeff!" Anton yelled over the quiet villagers. "You want me to attack now?"

Jeff glanced between him and the front. The archers were no longer shooting into the air, rather straight at them. Shields were picked up and the men and women behind braced themselves, spear-men crouched and readied their weapons to strike through the gaps.

"Yeah. Do your thing."

There were several hundred Kobolds still alive. Verona remained steady and resolute even as they charged. There was nothing to indicate that she was readying herself for combat. She was not going to use her power unless she really had to. Not even her eyes glowed.

He focused the mana into small orbs of lightning and tethered them together. The concept of tethering the magic together to make it far more powerful and destructive than on its own was a concept that he did not understand at all. He really did not have much chance to experiment, in the forest or at his brief stop at Maxill, so he had to go on what little he understood.

The Kobolds reached the halfway point and some of the villagers started to sound afraid. Jeff glanced back but kept his attention forward.

Twelve lightning bombs, tethered with a bolt of arcing and twisting lightning, formed over his head. Lightning flickered out of the balls of barely contained lightning. Some of the villagers glanced up to the new sound and light coming from above their heads. Smiles and smirks covered their faces as they looked back to the charging Kobolds. They knew what was on their side, and what was about to happen.

Still enraged, the Kobolds only began to slow when a quarter of the distance remained. Those at the front could see what was happening but the rest could only see the backs of the Kobold infront. Those that slowed down were pushed on from behind.

Another volley of arrows cut down those at the front and allowed those behind to resume the charge at full speed.

They were within easy range of his magic now. The tethering seemed to make all of the magic travel together in close proximity, he could not keep them tethered and try and move them apart. So he moved it into a half moon shape, one that would force the Kobolds into the center and become surrounded by the explosions. With a push of his mana they flew at the unsuspecting Kobolds.

"Cover your eyes and ears!" Anton yelled. He was not sure if they all heard or understood why.

The Kobolds finally realised what was about to happen. It was clear on their muzzled faces. Yet they did not stop or even attempt to run away. As the first lightning bomb on the edges of the hordes struck and exploded, a look of resignation came over some of their faces. Somehow they knew it was over.

The outer two exploded, killing many. The shock-wave fed through the tethering and into the second bomb on closer to the center. The surge of energy, that still inexplicably felt like it came from nowhere, proved too difficult to control as he lost control of that bomb. That exploded larger again.

Each lightning bomb blew up larger than the previous, sending chunks of dead Kobold and dirt flying into the air, when he could see and think through the blasts of light and sound.

Just before the last two bombs exploded he saw the look of the closest Kobold. It could not understand what was happening to it, but it knew that Anton was responsible somehow. It barred its teeth and tired to move just a single step closer to the man that was killing its friends.

But it never made that step.

The last two bombs exploded.

The air itself shuddered as his eyes went white and his hearing rang deafeningly loud. Through the incessant ringing of his ears he could hear clanging of metal. Fearing that some Kobolds got through he chanted a prayer to restore his sight and hearing. As his senses returned he saw that it was two villagers at the front who had stumbled into each other whilst disoriented by the blast.

Groans emanated from the villagers as they recovered. They had done their best to protect themselves in the short time Anton had given them but it was perhaps unavoidable that they were somewhat disorientated.

Anton looked out at the Kobolds while the others recovered.

Most were dead but quite a few were not. The blasts had taken out most in the front and to the sides of the approaching horde but there were still quite a few at the back. They, like Kal, had much better hearing than humans, even if their eyesight left much to be desired. This left them stumbling from side to side as they hammered at their ears to stop the ringing. Right now they did not look very threatening.

The Kobolds were left in a state of paralysis. The villagers were not.

"Prepare another volley!" Avery shouted.

The archers let loose another barrage right into the heart of the Kobolds. They were only thirty odd meters away so it was hard for them to miss.

As the arrows struck, and the Kobolds at the front died, a howl came from the rear. It was like wolf howling at the moon, a long and constant noise. There was a tug on his sleeve.

"That means they're going to run away." Verona said loudly, the disorienting effect of the lightning bombs were still affecting her.

He chanted a prayer for her to recover her hearing and eyesight properly. Her face lit up in surprise the moment he finished.

"But," she continued, "It sounds a little different. It could be a trap."

Anton nodded. He did not know how the Kobolds communicated but he was willing to trust someone who had been fighting them for nearly two weeks.

As Verona predicted the Kobolds began to turn and run. It was not orderly as they tripped over one another. Avery kept his archers peppering them with arrows and hounding their chaotic retreat. As they reached their mustering area, infront of the stone totems, they did not stop and continued to run.

Something at the back of his mind tingled. If there was to be a trap the only way they could make it work, with the villagers having superiority in range, is to get in close by luring them in. They had already seen how dangerous that could be with the Rock Rats at the quarry.

“Advance slowly and stay together.” Jeff ordered.

Anton glanced at some of their faces, they did seem quite eager to run and chase.

Is that part of their plan? Use our frustration against us? I…I don’t think so. But these ‘Dumb’ creatures, all of them, have proven more intelligent than was first thought. Better to be cautious.

“We’ll get them soon enough,” he continued, “Keep this formation and archers, pick them off if you can while we move. It’ll be a good chance to improve your skills while you are moving.”

There was almost a snort from Avery but he did not object.

Slowly the villagers advanced, never breaking their formation. Some on the edges kept a keen watch to the sides. They did not want something to hit them in the flank after all their effort.

When they reached twenty meters away from the start of the camp Jeff brought them all to a stop. There were no Kobolds alive in the central area, they had all been killed by Avery’s archers. He said nothing but pointed to the outlying tents. Anton could see the oddity as well. They moved, unnaturally, against the breeze from the north. There were things still inside.

Is that your plan? Basically the same thing the Rock-Rats did to us?

“Anton,” Jeff turned to him, “I can see movement in the closest tents. Do those tents interest you at all?”

Anton shook his head.

“I doubt it. They just look like they’re for the Kobolds to live in. Those larger ones look like they might have some information. I’ll take care of them.”

Anton moved to the front, waving for the villagers to start moving again.

Another flicker of movement came from one of the tents. This time he saw an eye peering through. He had no idea if it was a young or old Kobold, not that it mattered. They would kill them if they got the chance.

Anton moved to the front, an archer reluctantly gave up his position, and he readied the lightning bombs. A thought, of what the Kobolds were thinking as they saw him move to the front, flickered through but it immediately was snuffed out.

He raised his hand, to better direct the magic, and struck.

The first bolt erupted from his hand and pierced the tent. A hole tore open through the tent, its edges burning, as the bolt forced its way through the skin hide.

A sizzling sound emerged. Then a scream, more like a howl.

Four Kobolds, dazed and confused, dragged themselves from the tent and onto the dirt outside. All were wounded from the lightning in some way; burned and charred bodies and fur, crippled limbs and an unmistakable look of terror and disbelief.

Before they could move another step Avery shouted. Archers peppered them with arrows and they crumpled to a heap. It was a little bit of overkill.

I guess that's the way it has to be, clearing this place out one at a time. At least until we get anything of value from the large tents.

Anton nodded to Jeff, who took it as the instruction to advance again.

They barely made a step before a howl cried out from another small tent. Then another. And another.

“It sounds like they’re talking to each-other.” Jeff said, who had moved through the villagers to right behind Anton.

“It does.”

The howls stopped, but Anton became even more nervous. Nothing was happening.

Anton raised his hand and began to fire lightning bolts one after another into the tents. Most seemed empty but a few had some inside, their screams ringing throughout the camp as they died.

The tents burst open and they ran towards them, some on all fours while others did their best with their wounded limbs. They seemed maddened by their hopeless situation.

Is this some sort of Banzai charge?

He readied as many small lightning bombs as he could. As soon as they got in range he pushed them into the charging horde. Every contact killed many but they did not seem to care. The blasts and death surrounding them only seemed to enrage them more.

What is wrong with these things? Do they think they can honestly win? Why not just run away? Is this from belief in their goddess? Madness.

A few got close enough for the villagers to engage in melee but they were so wounded and mentally drained they could do nothing against the armoured villagers.

In under a minute the camp was quiet, utterly devoid of all other life. Only the sizzling sound of the dead Kobolds left to break the sound of the wind.

“How many was that?” Jeff asked.

“Maybe five hundred.” Anton answered, “Maybe more. I really wasn’t counting, only worrying that more were coming.”

“I suppose so. But now they’re dead.” Jeff almost laughed.

A clank came from a few tents away from the totems. They turned and saw an adult red Kobold emerge from the tent. It saw them, glanced either side, and ran away to the south.

“Still a few survivors.” Avery mumbled.

“Jeff, Avery. Well done.” Anton began. “Now it’s just a matter of cleaning up. Just-”

“We weren’t really necessary.” Avery mumbled again.

“Absolutely you were.” Anton replied. “As it stands right now you probably could have taken them out with just a few casualties, not that you wanted any of that. I suppose I’m just making it a bit quicker.”

Avery smiled and nodded.

“We’ll start organizing the soldiers to hunt them down.” Jeff said, he patted Anton on the shoulder. “Good to have our other mage back.”

---[]---

The battle, such as it was, was over. The last gasp of the Kobolds had been for naught, especially after they had been dealt with by Anton's magic and the archers.

Jeff split some of the villagers into small groups and had them hunt throughout the immediate vicinity of the camp, not more than a few tents deep, with the explicit instruction that they were not to go too far or get lured into an ambush while chasing down a survivor. He did not want any villager deaths by them acting too eager to enact their revenge.

Anton stood in the middle of the crescent moon formed from the totems. It must have been some considerable work for the kobolds to build and then move these things.

All in the name of a goddess that led you to your deaths. What a waste of lives and effort.

Anton did not lament on their deaths too much. They were creatures that tried to kill them, so there was nothing like compassion in his mind. For all he cared they could all die.

A pull on his sleeve broke him out of his thought. He turned to see Kal, looking rather worried.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice incredibly soft and gentle.

"I am. I just got a little lost in my thoughts there.

Kal seemed a little happier with his response.

He turned his attention back to the totems infront. Just like the last time he could feel something trying to reach out from the tablet on top. With six, instead of one, the touch was stronger and still incorporeal but somehow felt more angry and oppressive than before. The feeling still felt like its effort was wasted on trying to strike him.

Another tug on his sleeve, this one from the other side.

Verona did not let go and held his arm tight.

"You said at the lake, that you felt something." she began, her voice full of worry and concern, "Like there was something coming from within the stone that was trying to reach out and attack you. But, somehow you knew that it can do nothing."

"Yeah." Anton said dryly.

Verona nodded.

"Well. I feel it now too."

She pointed, with her free hand, at the tablets on top of the stone pillars.

"Each one of them, something is trying to reach out from it and strangle me."

She brought her hand to her throat, keeping herself attached to Anton.

"And yet it can't. Is this Nithroel's power?"

Anton could only shrug lightly.

"Honestly Ver, I have no idea.. I think these totems are just a conduit for her influence, a channel perhaps. A weak one at that. The gods said they could not directly interfere with our world. It looks like our glyphs and magic are their limit and this is all they can do without a body or worshipper. An incorporeal and ineffectual touch."

Verona nodded but did not look happy with the answer. It did nothing to explain of whether Nithroel was actually behind the attack, despite its great plausibility.

"That reminds me, we should definitely get some of our new stonemason bondsmen to make some idols to our gods."

He looked at his glyphed hand but a murmur of dissatisfaction came from Verona. When he looked she shook her head.

"Maybe...Maybe not mine. At least not yet. Not until we figure it all out."

He smiled bitterly and gave her head another rub. She seemed to appreciate it, bringing her free hand and holding his for a moment.

"Are you going to knock it down now?" Kal asked, tilting her body forward so she could see both of them clearly. "If it's causing you pain..."

"We might as well. Then we can rummage around in private."

Anton turned around to find Jeff. He was a few meters behind them, talking with Avery while they both were standing on some rough wooden crates and discussing something.

"Jeff, Avery. You want to smash something of theirs?"

They both turned to him.

"Already on it!"

Jeff moved them both back a pace and brought his foot straight down on the wooden box, shattering it completely.

"There. I thought-"

"No....not like that." Anton said weakly, disheartened that they slightly misunderstood his order.

"Oh." Jeff and Avery looked a little sheepish as they made their way over to him. "What do you want us to smash then?"

Anton pointed to the stone totems.

"I want you to bring them down without crashing them onto the big tents behind them."

The tents had been placed within falling range of the totems. Did they think that there was no way they could fall? They did have quite a few support ropes, but it did seem like a dangerous possibility.

"Sure. You guys had better move so you don't get squashed."

They moved back away to the entrance of the camp as Jeff and Avery rallied some soldiers that were lounging around.

The soldiers cut the ropes acting as supports, always keeping an eye on totems so they would not fall down and crush them. Tying together the ropes together they lashed them around the totem between the tablet and the main pillar.

When all six were looped and ten villagers on each, waiting to pull them down, Jeff gave one final glanced to Anton.

He nodded, giving them approval.

Jeff smiled and gave the order.

"Alright. Bring down these beasts' idols!" He yelled out.

The soldiers dug their boots into the well trodden dirt and heaved. Each pull was done in unison with each soldier crying out "heave".

Deep groans, followed by cracks, came from the stone totems. On the fourth pull they started to lean quite dramatically. The fifth was all it took, it was no wonder that they had used the supporting ropes. The stone pillars broke, some in the middle and the others at the top. With a mighty thud they crashed into the ground. Dust and dirt flew in every direction, as so did the soldier villagers.

As each tablet broke, so to did the strange sensation, ending completely with the last one breaking. The villagers cheered at their success.

Verona sighed in relief. For now it was over.

Jeff started clapping at Anton's side, the metal striking metal making a peculiar sound for clapping.

"That was fun." There was a wide smile on his face. "So what now?"

Anton pointed to the closest large tent.

"All the other big tents have been connected with this one, so it might be important. We'll head in there, see if there's anything valuable and then burn the whole place down."

"We haven't searched that place yet. They could still be some hiding in there." Jeff answered.

"Are you finding many more?" Verona asked.

Jeff shook his head, the metal armour clanking as he did so.

"Not many, a few wounded and sick ones trying to run away. I don't think many have gotten away but you never know."

Anton hummed. In the stories of war from Earth there were always some survivors, no matter how bleak the situation. Hiding in a hole, a wall, or their body simply overlooked. Some Kobolds did try and run away as they approached. They would be long gone by now. Whether or not they could survive on their own in the wilderness was something he had no idea of. Now they just had to continue onwards.

"I don't really want to have to use my magic in there, just in case I damage something important. I want your soldiers to go in there and secure it. I'll heal any wounds they get. Just make sure they stay together."

"Right. Everyone, gather around. We're not done here yet." Jeff said, waving his arm above his head to get their attention.

"Avery, make sure that the hunting squads don't go too far. We want to be gone as soon as possible."

Avery nodded and started keeping a close lookout.

The villagers armed with swords and shields went first in first, those with spears behind and the archers behind them. Jeff stayed back with Anton as they advanced into the tent. The soldiers pulled back the flaps and disappeared inside.

There was nothing for a few seconds before a villager shouted out in surprise. An archer moved forward and loosed an arrow inside. There was another scream, and then nothing.

They waited for a bit longer before there were more sounds, metal hitting flesh and arrows being loosed.

"There's still quite a few of them in there." Verona mumbled.

Anton placed his hand on her head, waiting until he got a smile before rubbing it. She smiled warmly and looked back towards the tent.

A villager emerged, fresh blood staining his iron plate armour.

"There were about fifty or sixty of those things still in there. Didn't put up that much of a fight though."

"Might have been the leaders or the shamans or whatever they have." Anton said, starting to move forward.

The others followed as well. Right before they got to the entrance flap Verona stopped. He turned as she shook her head.

"There's too much blood in there. I don't want to smell that much, right now."

"Are you okay?" Anton asked, his voice full of worry.

Verona needed, her face looked like she was trying to hide some shame.

"Yeah. I don't feel anything yet but I don't want to push it until we have it figured out. I'll wait out here."

She looked around at the scorched bodies.

"These don't worry me."

"Okay then. Kal, could you stay out here and keep Verona company for a bit?"

Kal nodded and quickly moved to Verona's side. The two started talking rapidly amongst themselves, too quiet for Anton to hear. He did not want want to use his enhanced hearing magic to listen in, it would probably be rude.

That left him with Jeff. He opened the flap for Anton and they both walked inside.

It was very spacious inside, with a small fire in the center and what looked to be primitive pillows in a circle around the fire. This seemed to be the meeting place of the leaders. His guess about the Kobolds, that they found were the elderly, was probably correct. They lay all over the ground, dead and bloody. One last desperate attempt to strike back at the villagers. Around their snouts and at the extremities of their limbs was grey fur. While there were a few Kobolds that were a dark grey, these patches were very light in colour.

Just like people...they grey with age.

At the base of the fire, near a very large and seemingly ornate pillow, was a drawing in the dirt.

Anton led Jeff around the fire and looked more closely at it.

It was a rough map of Atros. The map was far more crude than the one that Duchess Belinda had managed to acquire but far more troubling.

"It seems these simple beasts are not so simple after all." Anton said aloud, Jeff could only nod. "I don't want to meet one that's meant to be smart."

"Did anyone find anything else interesting?" Jeff asked, looking at all the armed villagers.

Most shrugged dismissively or shook their heads but one small group did not.

"This one," the villager poked a dead Kobold with her spear, it looked almost the same as the others, "Was making a break for it with this in its hand...claw...thing."

She walked over and handed him a small piece of paper. It was an incredibly fine and well manufactured piece of paper, better than anything that he had seen in this world. He unravelled it, Jeff peered over his shoulder to look.

Just like at Maxill, his heart sank. This time his heart felt like ice. There was lettering on the top half, which he could not read. It looked flamboyant and wonderfully extravagant, large detailing to the lettering. There only appeared to be fifty or so letters. It seemed very familiar though.

Beneath that was a map of Atros, more detailed than the one that the Duchess had. Individual houses were marked along with the larger barns and specialised buildings. More alarmingly there was a small star on the western side of Atros over a house. It was where he and Verona lived.

They even know where we live and sleep. This is...not good.

Anton sighed. Jeff lent over his shoulder and sighed too, at seeing where the mark was.

"Shit that's...They've done a really good job of scouting us, haven't they."

Anton grimaced.

"Not the Kobolds, I don't think there's any doubt about that." He nodded to the dirt map. "But whoever made this wants us dead. Or at the very least, me dead."

Jeff did not look happy, neither did Anton.

Anton looked around but there really was not much else to this place. Villagers had come out of the adjoining tents looking thoroughly disappointed. After all this effort finding something was the least that should have happened to them.

Something still worried him. While this attack had been dealt with, with some losses on their side, it did show that they could be beaten. They just needed a lot more.

If Nithroel is meant to be the goddess of the forest, she might have more than just Kobolds at her disposal. Alfred mentioned that there are centaurs in this world... Who knows what else she might throw at us. Orges? Trolls? Or who else knows what? I wouldn't slowly escalate things with an enemy, if I had the chance I would wipe them out. The next time she will send everything at once.

A grim thought surfaced in his mind.

We may not survive the next one. If there's something that I can do then I should do it.

I was able to meet Verona's goddess, Jira, that delightful creature, even though I'm not contracted with her. Maybe there's a way to meet Nithroel before this gets even more out of hand. Before it becomes so bad that we have to flee for our lives.

Anton tired focusing the mana into his glyphs in the hope that it would allow him to talk with his gods.

Teth- No, Nithroel seems to hate you for some reason. Esperit and Stratos, we need to talk with Nithroel. I know there is bad blood between you all but we need to have a sit down and talk things through before they become insane. Let them know there is no bad blood between us and we wish to live in peace.

The mana seemed to flow through the glyphs and out of his body, into nowhere. He had no idea if it worked but he could only hope that it would. Verona did not look like she was ready to try and talk to her own god yet.

"We've seen enough." Anton said loudly. "Let's get everybody out of here safely and head home."

-------------

Hello.

This is the end of the Kobold threat, for now. The battle, which may have dragged on for a little bit, shows how the threat has gone from able to perform these massive humans...furry waves of attack, to just a few wounded soldiers that were annhilated very quickly.

So, they won't be turning up again for quite some time. It's also the last 'battle' chapter for quite a few. From how things are going it won't be until 42 until there's any sort of fighting on any scale.

Also, this chapter reinforces that Someone is co-ordinating the Kobold attacks, not that it's hard to guess who or how.

Unfortunately, the next chapter, when I was writing it, became more and more stupid and my attempts to fix it just made it worse. So I decided to scrap it and am writing it from the beginning. I think I'm about half of the way through it.

Thankfully, I have basically written up to 41 and those are in editting. Some time ago I wanted to have this arc done before christmass....but that's clear that it's not happening.

So, no idea when the next chapters will be out but I hope they are soon.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 038 - The Calm Night

Chapter 038:

Anton watched the roaring fire of the Kobold camp from the safety of the second Atros wall. Many of the soldiers, either side of him, were cheering and laughing at the spectacle but Anton only had a lingering sense of dread. He stared into the columns of smoke coming from the Kobold camp and became lost in the tumbling grey smoke.

Nithroel is not going to take this on the chin, I know I certainly wouldn't. We need to talk to her and sort this thing out. Now I'm not so sure that we should have set fire to the camp. But, what's done is done. And there's no way that I can revive all that have been killed.

It was not the only thing on fire in the immediate vicinity. On his return he had also set fire to the piles of bodies and pools of dried blood inside and outside of Atros. The stench emanating from those had been quite odd. The still active Kobold poison, mixed in with the piles of corpses, burned with a strange light green hue and had an odd metallic taste. The moment that he tasted it on his tongue he feared that the poison might have been travelling further down and straight into his lungs. Thankfully the fire had seemingly rendered it harmless, apart from a few villagers going into small coughing fits. They seemed more relieved that the piles of potential disease were gone than their own discomfort.

Verona, leaning against the wall next to him, was completely oblivious to his mental worries. Instead she scanned the burning and smouldering ruins with a detached and lonely expression. There were more terrifying things going on in her head than Anton's. Nobody liked not being in control of their own body. She looked incredibly relieved that the Kobold threat had been dealt with. For the moment. Though, now they were dealt with, it gave them time to discuss what was happening to her. Things that were literally etched onto her skin.

Kal stood beside her as well. She seemed very calm throughout the whole ordeal. A few of the soldiers were not so nervous to go near her now, some even had the courage to say 'hello'. It was a small but nice thing to see the beginning of a change.

Jeff and Avery sent the soldiers back home, provided they put their new armour into one of the new armoury barns. The other villagers wanted to know what happened from the soldiers as they disseminated throughout the village. That left the assembled council members, and Kal, at the gate.

To Anton it looked as if they had a great burden lifted from them. They had.

Zac was the first to greet Anton properly.

"Good to see you Anton!" He said, moving closer.

Before Anton could do anything he was stuck in a giant bear hug. It lasted only a second or two but it was more than sufficient to show off his strength. The others greeted him more gently after that.

"Glad to see that you're all alive." Anton said after they had all calmed down.

"Without Verona it would have been a very different story." Sybil proudly said.

Verona looked a little better at hearing that, but it was still a pained expression. She was being praised on her ability to kill with a power that irked her so much.

"The Kobolds are all dead?" Jonathan asked, his two children underneath both arm.

Anton nodded.

"Their camp is now a ruin, and so much damage had been inflicted upon them that they were barely a force when we arrived."

Verona grumbled something barely perceptible.

"For now, absolutely. Later..."

They, except Jeff, looked rather confused. Only he and Anton had seen what they recovered from the Kobold tent. Now was a good a time as any to reveal what they found.

"Are you saying they might come again?" Sam asked.

It was an unpleasant thought they all seemed to share.

"Jeff? Do you have it?"

Jeff nodded and pulled out the piece of paper. Everyone looked very confusingly at it. He looked at Anton to see if he was going to explain the finding but Anton nodded for him to continue. He could not always be the one to be the bearer of bad news.

"Yeah... Um." Jeff seemed to be struggling to find the words to begin. "After we killed off the Kobolds, we found this in one of their hands...claws.... If I'm honest I think it was about to throw it in the fire, or at least try and hide it."

Good point.

"Anyway, I'll show it to you and you can make your mind up."

He unrolled the piece of paper and held it so everybody could see. None recognised what the writing on the top half said, but they all knew what the drawing was of.

"How?" Kal whimpered.

A few things of what she thought she knew about the world was not proving to be true, as could be said of the villagers understanding of the world.

"We're not entirely sure." Anton replied, to Jeff's relief. "But the writing on the top looks very similar to the burnt piece of paper we found at the Kobold camp by the lake. We found out that writing..."

Anton looked to Bertram.

"Was from the Wood Elves. Probably."

Anton glanced at Kal.

"Who worship Nithroel, the Goddess of the Forest." Kal added.

"The same one we found at the camp." Verona said unhappily. "The one who's totems we just knocked down and who's followers camp is burning down just behind us."

Some glanced over at the still burning camp and then back to them.

"Was... Was this a wise decision then?" Sybil asked.

Anton could only shrug.

"I honestly don't know. Even if we left the camp as it was it would be pretty clear to a god what happened there. Also, we don't want something like Goblins or even more Kobolds to make it their home while we aren't paying close attention. Might as well finish it all off in one go."

Sybil nodded, as so to did most of the others. They did not want another ordeal like the one they had just suffered any time soon.

"I also don't want this to escall... make this situation any worse than it currently is," Anton continued, "So, I’ve tried to make contact with my gods to see if this Nithroel is in a talking mood. My mana went somewhere so I think it worked."

"When?" Verona asked.

"Hopefully tonight. The only other time I've been able to talk to them was after the final battle with the Yellow Goblins, and I was asleep that time as well."

Zac scratched his back roughly.

"With all this going on... Lad, we're all kind of worried. Really worried."

Many nods agreed with his sentiment.

"I know. I am to. But we must persevere on regardless. Every small problem that each of us can solve makes it easier for everyone else. But just to let you all know now, until we get this thing sorted, I won't be leaving. Anybody or anything will have a hard time cracking this place open."

Relief plastered over their faces as if it was a mighty wave crashing over them. They must have thought that he would just leave on another trip far away to gather more people and supplies, possibly bringing Verona as well.

"Speaking of small problems," Anton continued, "How are the new bondsmen finding it here?"

"We really haven't given them enough time to really settle in." Bertram said. "So it's difficult to tell how they'll deal with their new life."

"They were really curious, and a little bit scared, when they heard your lightning magic going off in the distance." Sybil continued. "I think that was the point that any lingering doubts, of you being a very powerful mage, were gone. Some even looked from the wall to see, and were terrified and curious about you. And we know that the little balls of lightning and fire are not the only things that you can do... Like those pillars and rings."

Anton smiled and nodded.

"I suppose that's a good thing that they are a little more aware of what is really going on."

"It's great that the new people are settling in," an otherwise quiet Avery began, "But back to what's happening out there...Is there anything we can do against this god?"

Anton shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid not. Not that I know of. All we can do is carry on like we are and work as hard as we can. Hopefully I can figure a way to deal with her gently. That way we might just get out of this without a scratch. Hopefully..."

Avery looked a little happier, mainly from Anton's belief that they could survive a gods attack. He was not so sure himself but he needed to keep up the appearance, at least, that they could come out on top.

“That's better than nothing...I suppose.” Bertram said.

The others looked not entirely convinced, but relieved that they knew the truth of the situation.

Anton took a deep breath, taking a quick glance at the burning remains of the Kobold corpses. It reminded him of what he needed to talk about with Verona.

"I know it's very soon after I've come back, but Verona and I need to leave, we've got to have a little chat about some things. I know that you guys can handle just about anything that could come up."

"Are you..." Sam started before realising what he meant. "I think that's a good idea. The rest of us should get on with our... stuff."

The others nodded in understanding. They must have known to some degree as to what was happening to one of their two mages.

"It's probably best if we all get back to work. Glad to have you back, Anton." Bertram said, starting to walk down the stairs.

Everyone gave a final goodbye, leaving Anton, Verona and Kal alone.

"I... I don't want to sound rude or... intrusive-" Kal looked quite awkward as she spoke, a slight sway to her hips as she stood nervously.

"It really depends on what you're asking." Anton said.

Kal calmed down a little, realising that Anton was trying to disarm some of her apprehension.

"But I do not want to be wandering around Atros when there are so many new people. Ones that might hate beast-kin and might try something when you aren't there. I'm... Uh... Also pretty tired, more than I usually get at this time of day."

"Maybe it was all that excitement from earlier? On the cart?" Verona jokingly teased.

Kal flushed lightly, smiling and chuckling as well.

"I guess it could be." Kal admitted. "But, I don't just want to disappear either. So I was just going to check first..."

"Of course you can," If Anton replied, a look of relief on her face. "But I'm glad you asked. We're heading that way too-"

"I don't want to intrude."

Verona shook her head.

"It's fine. Besides, it'll give us something else to talk to while we walk."

Verona scratched at the marks on her neck. They were the ones that gave her the most grief. A chilling thought arose, of those marks being capable of strangling her on her goddess's whims. Talking to Kal might help alleviate some stress.

"Okay." Kal sounded very unsure of herself.

Nevertheless, she followed them down the wooden ramp and towards their homes.

They walked together in silence, only the sound of the other villagers working around them punctuated their own silence. As they neared the central plaza Kal was the first to break it.

"I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me stay here." Kal said. "I can't imagine that it's easy for some of the villagers."

"It's fine. I'm glad that you're liking it." Anton said. "I bet it beats having to sleep out in the rain and... Winds."

Kal nodded, something in her eyes looked thankful that he had not mentioned storms.

"Actually, I haven't had to sleep outside like that for some time, even before coming here."

"So, caves or your own tent?" Verona asked.

"Both. Although it was a very small one...that I stole." Kal answered. "I became very good at reading the weather."

"Anything we should look out for?" Anton looked to the sky, blue with only a few clouds. Like it normally was.

Kal looked up and around before shaking her head.

"Nothing for today at least. But I can only guess for a day or so."

"That's nice to know." Verona offered.

Kal smiled and nodded back.

"But you don't have that to worry about now, with a roof over your head." Anton offered.

"It is very good to not have to worry about that."

"And you've got people that you can actually talk to, ones that aren't going to try something bad with you." Verona added.

Kal nodded again.

"I had almost forgotten what it means to have someone that could even be called a friend." Kal sounded very sad.

"Did you have any friends from before you started... travelling?" Verona asked as delicately as she could. "Since you're..."

Kal frowned but did not object to Verona dodging the term.

"I did." Kal answered, a strange sense of pride in her voice. "I will admit that it wasn't many, being what I am, but I guess I had about three or so... That was a long time ago though. I wonder if any of them are still alive. Seocuria is not a good place for a beast-kin if they want to live a long life."

"Were they like you?" Anton asked, "Or were they...full beast-kin?"

Kal scratched at her torn ear and looked very uncomfortable. She but down lightly on her lower lip.

"Um... I'd rather-"

"If you don't want to talk about it, then just say you don't want to." Anton said.

Kal remained quiet for some time.

"Maybe some other time." she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm not ready to go back to those memories yet."

Anton nodded in understanding, a huge sense of relief overcame her face.

"But...Would you still recognise them?" Anton asked.

Kal nodded.

"I think so. It has been quite a few winters since I escaped Seocuria."

"Perhaps if we find them, they could help us find your mother."

A spark of hope crept onto Kal's face while Verona looked rather confused.

"What? Find your mother?” Verona asked both of them. “Wouldn't that mean travelling to that nasty sounding slaver place?"

Kal hesitated to answer so Anton did.

"At Maxill the topic came up," Anton began to explain, "and we decided, that when Atros is stronger, to head over the the Seocuria Empire and start to 'buy' beast-kin slaves and bring them here so they can live like the bondsmen do now."

Verona rubbed the end of her chin before replying.

"Because not only will it save some people from slavery it will also make them very loyal to the city that freed them. And a really good reason for them to work hard so we can get even more money to free more slaves."

Anton nodded.

Kal pursed her lips.

"You are very manipulative and sneaky. Very sneaky." she spoke in barely audible whisper.

"And also so that Kal is not the only non-human here and is not looked down at, like she's some kind of token person." Verona added.

"It would be nice to see some of them free,” Kal looked up at the sun “and just be able to enjoy the sun without getting hit over the head for not working hard."

Both Anton and Verona looked quite sad at hearing that.

"I like the idea." Verona said proudly as she stuck out her chest. "Anything to make life a little easier around here and make someone's a lot better. By the way, how much does a... slave cost?"

"From what it cost us to get the bondsmen from Maxill, not a lot." Anton said. "The main problem is getting them back here."

"The... The city," Kal began, with a stifled cough, "That I was from is a port city. I remember there always being ships in the harbour and the smell of salt."

"There's our plan!" Anton said triumphantly, surprising both Verona and Kal. "After we have this whole Nithroel thing sorted out, hopefully tonight, we'll take a few days and then head to the Graterious Empire. We get ourselves established, maybe another way to bring more good people to Atros and a way to start making money-"

"We've got heaps of money from the mountain." Verona said offhandedly.

"But it will run out, and a lot faster than we think it will." Anton answered. "Better to use that money to and invest it to make more before it runs out. Otherwise we'll have to start from nothing and that will take time that we cannot afford."

Verona took a few seconds as the mathematics was solved in her head.

"I get you. Sorry, you were saying?"

"After we have done our preliminary business in Graterious, we find ourselves a boat and a captain, and sail to the port city that you came from."

Kal continued to look at him with searching eyes. The same ones that she had in Maxill when he said that he would rescue the beast-kin, if he could have seen them.

"Go in there, pretending to be buyers for a new plantation or whatever, scour the city for someone you recognise and find out from there where your mother is. I wonder if they will be more scrutinising than the Duchess...Anyway, find her and buy her into freedom, get back onto the ship and make for the closest port to Atros. And then come back here."

"Sounds simple enough." Verona said as she nodded.

"You think that plan is going to work?" Kal asked exasperated.

She looked utterly disbelieving at their attitude. Her jaw twitched uncontrollably.

"Yes."

"There's so many things that could go wrong." Kal added. "And if it goes wrong, that would be it. It...It's a very big risk."

"Yes it is." Anton replied. "But it's the only way the we can save your mother, and any other beast-kin quickly. Besides, when the plan is chopped up into little pieces like that it's a lot easier to deal with, tackling one piece at a time."

Kal stopped, not caring of whatever was happening around her. She looked at her hands, still wrapped in cloth, and took a deep breath.

How old is your mother? If you're nearly thirty, that would make your mother fifty or so. I don't think that slaves are allowed to get too old...You're running out of time, and I think you know it. That's another reason why you came here in the first place.

"Okay." she started to walk again. "I'll take the risk with your plan and I... I will see my mother freed."

"That's the spirit." Verona said, playfully punching Kal's arm. "We'll all be coming with you, I for one want to to see that happen.

Verona jogged infront of both of them and turned around, continuing to walk backwards.

"So when we do free your mother... Not your father?"

Kal shook her head angrily.

"No." was all she was prepared to say on the matter.

"Well, anyway," Verona tried her best to recover from her blunder, but could not convincingly, "After we get her on the ship, what's the first thing that you're going to say?"

Kal was stumped by the question. Her dark aqua brows furrowed as she thought deeply about it.

"I... I've never actually given it much thought. I honestly thought the day would never come."

"I know what I would do." Verona bent down low as she continued to walk backwards. "I wouldn't say anything. I would just hug them."

Kal looked a little confused.

"You've been apart as long as I have been alive. You don't need to say anything."

Kal smiled. So too did Anton. It was nice to hear Verona say something so sweet to her.

Kal's smile quickly turned into a frown as she started to look around. Both Anton or Verona had no idea what set her off. Part of him dreaded saying that she smelt another horde of Kobolds, or something worse, approaching.

"I understand that you don't have any parents here, Anton, as you... arrived here with no memory. But, Verona, I haven't seen anyone with your hair colour around. You're the only one with silver hair."

Verona sighed as she righted herself and continued to walk.

"They... Um...They died early on. During the first attack by the Yellow Goblins. This was well before Anton arrived."

Kal kept her head down, a deep sense of sadness and regret of her face.

"I'm sorry I asked so... Badly. I sometimes don't know the best way to ask about things like that."

Verona shrugged.

"It's okay." she tried to raise her spirits. "You didn't know, so you can't exactly be blamed. Just like how I almost grabbed the base of your tail."

Kal opened her mouth into an O. Verona had prodded around Kal's back, when she was talking to Anton, in the hopes of feeling her tail. It was something that not anybody should just touch, as it was still a part of Kal's body. Something that resulted in a slap for Verona.

"You did slap her away pretty hard." Anton teased.

Kal raised her chin and moved with a little more confidence.

"It's not something I'm going to let just anyone touch." She quickly glanced at him, a small unreadable expression flickered over her face before it disappeared, "All beast-kin, even someone like me, takes pride in it. The only one I would let touch it is my mother."

I really do want to see it. Just to know what it looks like.

He glanced at Verona, she had the same expression as well.

I guess that makes two of us.

Verona spun around, so she faced the same way as them, before slowing down and moving in between them.

"I will see it one day." she mumbled.

Kal smiled but did not answer. He wondered how long it would be before she would be able to walk freely, without a heavy cloak to hide her heritage.

---[]---

The rest of the journey they made in a pleasant silence. There was no sense of awkwardness, despite Kal's potential blunder into a difficult topic.

The villagers and bondsmen that they passed seemed to be quite happy. News that the Kobolds had been dealt a resounding defeat travelled very fast through the formerly besieged village. Their new home was safe and now they could relax without the fear of attack.

Quite a few gave Kal some questioning looks, still not able to make up their minds about whether it was appropriate for a beast-kin, which none of them had ever seen before in their lives, to live in the same city. Anton's presence made it clear that nothing was going to happen.

Finally they arrived at Kal's house, close to theirs.

"Thank you for making sure I got here safely." Kal bowed her head again.

Anton smiled and lightly bowed his head. "It's the least we could do. I think that there will be a big feast tonight in celebration of our victory, instead of just a normal dinner. Will you be coming?"

Kal hesitated a moment, before gripping her hands into fists and nodding.

"I will. I didn't make it the last time... So I will make sure I attend this one."

"Fantastic." Verona said, smiling wildly.

"Right. I'm going to head in and get some sleep." Kal said as she opened her door. "I'm guessing that it's going to be at dusk?"

Anton nodded.

"I'm guessing that as well. We'll swing by before we go, just in case."

Kal mouthed a silent thanks as she headed inside.

"Oh, one more thing." Anton said just as the door was starting to close. "If anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to threaten or intimidate you because of your... Heritage, you have permission to defend yourself."

Kal looked a little confused, as she glanced at Verona.

Verona lightly shrugged.

"Just cut them with your daggers if they try to fight you since you're a beast-kin."

Kal nodded, a hand resting on the hilt of her blade.

'I just hope it does not come to that. But, I will remember it. Thank you."

Anton nodded. Kal gave one final nod to both of them before shutting the door completely. They waited a moment before hearing something heavy and wooden being dragged infront of the door.

"Well, she's safe." Verona said aloud, trying her best to hide her rapidly building nervousness. "Guess it's time for me then, huh?"

Anton held her hand as they walked back to their house. As they entered their house,Verona became even more stressed, which in turn made Anton feel stressed himself. Her hands opened and closed rapidly in an attempt to calm herself. Judging by the way she was breathing it was not working.

She opened the door to their bedroom and took a deep breath before turning to face him.

"So," her voice was quivering, "I guess that you know that I'm afraid of using my power."

Anton nodded.

It felt odd to talk about something serious while standing, Verona looked like she was putting most of her energy into keeping her legs straight. He sat down on the bed, Verona looked quite glad as she took a seat next to him. Normally he would have put his arm around her by now, but now was not the time.

"It started happening a few days after the Kobolds started attacking. I woke up and my body felt like it was burning. Not as bad as the night when I first got my power, but it was the same sensation. Then I realised that the marks covered most of my body. Only my face, and ears, are free. Sam was the only one I could talk to about it. We went somewhere private and she says they cover every part of my body, even underneath the hair on my head. Even my toes..."

Verona lowered her head.

"Can I see them?" Anton asked, Verona looking at him with confused eyes. "I want to see them. So I know what's happening to you..."

"Right. Okay." Verona took a very deep breath. "But it's not just my back, it covers my breasts, stomach and...you know. Everywhere."

Anton nodded and turned Verona side on so he could get to the clips that held her armour on. "Whatever it is, you know that I'll accept it and love you just as dearly?"

Verona took another deep breath and nodded. She removed the armour pieces on her limbs while Anton dealt with the chest piece.

"Ver, this seems to be a little easier to get off. Is this...Oil?"

Verona chuckled a little.

"Um, Yeah. It got a bit difficult to put this on by myself. Even though there weren't any battles it still helps with my breasts and back, so I asked Jonathan if he could do anything to make it easier to do it up myself. That was just before the Kobolds started to attack. That was all we had time for."

His mind remembered the enormity of her breasts, soon to be released.

"We really need to get you a bra. Might have to make it ourselves...A good sexy one too."

Verona frowned at that remark.

"I'm sorry if I offend-"

"No." Verona cut him of sharply. "I'm not offended in the slightest. I'm flattered. But it's not just the marks..."

Without telling Anton what she meant she wormed her way free from her armour. She stood up, took another deep breath and closed her eyes, taking the shirt of in one go.

The full splendour of her body came into view. Her breasts, each larger than he could hold in his hands, bounced as they caught on her shirt on the way up. She jiggled about to get it free, unintentionally seductively, and threw it on the bed.

He brought his mind away from grabbing her and pushing her down and focused on her body.

The red tribal marks covered nearly half of the skin on her body. There seemed to be only a vague pattern to them, in so far as that they focused onto certain important parts of her body. The most obvious swirls were around her nipples and her belly button. Other, slightly less obvious, swirls were focused over where he guessed where important organs were located underneath. Between these swirls were seemingly randomly connected red tribal tattoos.

It was an odd but alluring sight, especially when she was so nervous infront of him. Her body heaved with every breath as he looked at the marks. She most have felt like a specimen the way he stared. A few beads of sweat began to trickle down her face as she tried to stop herself from shaking.

He waved her closer, she moved closer with some trepidation. She did not care to cover herself as she walked. He had seen and felt them more than enough times to know how soft and good they felt underneath his fingers.

She stopped as he started running his hand over her stomach. It was far more well trained than when he left. Each muscle was clearly defined, quivering and twitching underneath his touch. He glanced up quickly and saw that she was bright red in the face, she was feeling very aroused but was fighting it down. He fought down his own instincts and focused.

"These new marks are smooth on your skin. Without the colour there would be no way for me to even know these were here." Anton looked up at her, her face less red from embarrassment. "Do they hurt at all?"

Verona shook her head.

"No."

Anton squeezed down on the side of her hips, a sweet moan escaping her mouth. It had been too long since he had enjoyed this body.

"But," Anton begin again, "You said there was something else."

Any hint of arousal and joy instantly drained from her face.

"There is." She pried Anton's hands free with some reluctance and grabbed her shirt off the bed. "I knew that if it was just the marks then you wouldn't have a problem with it. You didn't before."

Anton chuckled, so too did Verona as she put her shirt back on and sat next to him.

"So, it's not that..."

"When I use the power, when my body glows and my eyes turn red, Now I... Start to have... Urges."

Anton frowned lightly.

"What kind of urges?"

"Uh... The kind where I want to drink blood. Lots..."

"Oh." Anton remained silent, Verona looking very uncomfortable.

"But it's not that they bad. It's just like it's something at the back of my mind clawing away." She scratched dramatically at the back of her head to illustrate the sensation.

Verona looked down and clicked her tongue.

"Over the battle a few drops have entered my mouth, and I.... Well... My, legs and crotch...they went..."

"That's..." Anton didn't have anything clever to say.

"Yeah."

Verona's eyes widened in shock.

“I...I didn't seek it out. The first time it happened was on the first day of the Kobold attack. It happened two more times, on the third day when one managed to get too close and on the seventh day when I really wasn't worrying about covering my mouth when the Kobolds were all spilling over the wall. But each time it became...stronger.”

"I..."

Verona nodded, her face full of shame.

"That's why I didn't want to use my power. In case I lost myself and started to kill and rip apart the Kobolds just so I could drink their blood. Or to a person...So I could get more of that feeling. In case I did that infront of you. In front of everybody and looked like... Like... Some kind of freak."

Tears ran down her face, her nose started to run as well. She started to cry as she brought her hands up to wipe away the flowing tears.

He never wanted to see her like this.

While she was still crying he turned and pulled her tight. She tried to fight him off, forcing her arms against his chest and pushed hard but he refused to let her go. Her face scrunched up in anger as she tried to push him off with rapidly decreasing strength. Within a few seconds she started crying even louder. All the strength faded as she crumpled into his chest.

"I don't want to be like that! Someone that kills people and drinking their blood to get off! I don't want to be a berserker, murderer or... I..."

Nothing more came out of her mouth except cries verging on wails. Anton moved his hand and slowly stroked her from her head down to her back.

It was some time before she stopped.

With her strength returned she pushed herself upright and away but kept Anton's hands on her shoulder and back.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't say sorry. You have nothing to apologise about. I told you, I'll love you no matter what. We'll figure this out together."

She wiped away the remains of her tears.

"You really do mean that? You're not just saying that?" her voice was trembling again, she must have thought that he might discard her.

He answered with a kiss, forceful and deep. She was surprised but quickly began to melt into him, her tongue wrestling with his own. When they broke they were both red in the face. Verona started laughing, so to did Anton. Given everything they had done this was not that embarrassing.

"Okay. I believe you." she smiled but it was no longer pained.

"I've got a question."

"Go on?" she asked playfully, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Do you feel the urge without your power on, like right now?"

She looked up before shaking her head.

"No. But that was why I didn't want to use my power... In case it started... Drifting to when I wasn't using it."

"Ah, now I understand." He said as he got off the bed and moved to his side. He took one quick glance back and saw a very embarrassed face.

"There are some tests that I would like to do sometime soon."

"Before or after we have sex?" she asked slyly, lying on her front along the bed.

"Well...No. Afterwards, definately. But, yes...presuming you still want to."

"Of course I still do.” She pretended to be shocked. “I haven't been able to relieve myself properly for quite some time. Maybe if my man had decided to stay..."

She chuckled and smiled. He knew that she was just teasing him, and doing a good job of it.

"Have you drunk blood without your powers on? More than just a drop?" He asked.

"No," she began dismissively, "I've... Are you serious. You mean, right now?"

"Of course not, just a question." Anton returned to the bed and picked her up, surprisingly light in his arms. "Not after we've just got you sorted out."

She chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

"That's a terrible thing to bring up."

She freed herself from his arms.

"What if I'm not feeling in the mood any more?"

She threw herself down, her breasts bouncing up and down from the force. As she turned on her side he could see a smirk forming on the corner of her mouth.

"I would just have to take it then, wouldn't I?" He lay down next to her and his hands began to creep over her stomach.

"I would like to see you try.” her face changed from playful to quite serious and worried. “Just, let's take it slow. I don't want things to get out of hand."

Anton nodded.

"I will, let me know if you feel uncomfortable with anything, or anything feels wrong, and we'll stop."

She answered by bringing him in for a deep kiss, wrapping her leg over his and started to pull their clothes off.

---[]---

The sun was beginning to set when they both had finished their tussle. It had been an exhausting but thrilling time, as if they were rediscovering each other after being separated for so long. Verona lay with her head resting on his chest while her fingers traced lazily over his side.

"I really don't want to be separate from you for this long again." she mumbled, "I don't want to go for that long without sex again."

"So that's why you want me back?"

Verona giggled as she crawled up his body. She smiled as she tried to bury her head into his chest.

"I suppose then you don't want your gifts then." Anton teased her back, looking away from her.

"Really!...Come on. What did you get?" Verona asked over and over, each time moving closer until her lips were brushing against his ear.

"Please?" It was a strange mix of a beg and a whimper that came from her mouth.

"Alright." Anton said, throwing off the fur covers himself and more onto Verona.

"Hurray!" Verona began clapping wildly as she held the fur covers close to her chest.

She seemed so much more confident now, and not just because of the physical pleasures. Knowing that he still accepted and desired her seemed to help the most. Anton made sure that she knew that he loved her no matter what. It seemed to take the edge off the mental anguish caused by the rapid growth of her marks, along with the disturbing side effect.

Anton recovered the small bag that Sam had left near the door, as he had asked. Verona looked like a child on their first Christmas, the way she bobbed around excitedly and her legs bounced up and down underneath the fur covers. He sat next to her as she crawled onto his shoulder.

"Right. I got you two things in Maxill. I'm not sure about your fashion tastes but I hope you like them."

"Stop making me wait and show me." Verona demanded childishly.

Anton chuckled and rubbed her hand. The desire to flinch away had gone, for now at least.

I just hope it can be controlled. I'm sure it can. We'll find it together.

He reached in and pulled out the metal chain. Verona tilted her head cutely as she looked intently at it.

"Is it a necklace?" The excitement was clear in her voice.

"Actually no." Anton replied.

Now she looked even more confused. He turned so he was facing her and ran his hand through her hair, producing a giggle.

"While I like you with long hair, having it loose like this means that in a fight it could get into your eyes or somebody could grab it."

"It did kind of get in the way during the fight." Verona admitted. "Though I was more worried about the enemy infront of me."

"This should allow you to keep your lovely long silver hair without it becoming too dangerous. Could you turn around?"

Verona hummed in agreement as she turned around. She kept the fur cover over her front, leaving everything of her behind exposed. The whole sight was very alluring. Nevertheless, he moved closer and ran his fingers through her hair and pulled it back. It was almost halfway to her shoulders now, a very good length for her.

He pulled it back into a pony tail, as best he could, and tied the metal chain around it. Almost all of the hair was taken up by the style, however it did allow a little bit of the red tribal marks to be seen on the front of her scalp. It was not a perfect attempt but he was sure that Verona would like it.

"I... We don't have a mirror in this village do we?"

"A mirror..." Verona ran her fingers back and touched the chain. "Is... Is that something that would allow me to see the back of my head?"

"In this instance, yes." Anton replied. "It's a reflective surface-"

"Like the lake, or some really clean water?"

"Yeah. Except this is solid. Like a really, really shiny piece of metal that you could hold. Everything looks as clear as you can see now."

"Huh. Your world is really strange."

She ran her hand through her hair after the chain. Judging by the way she smiled she really liked it.

"I love it. Nobody else has something like this."

She was right, in a sense. Most of the women he saw had short hair or had it tied up with a piece of string. Verona looked very lovely in it, but there was another gift still to come.

"That's not the only thing." he teased.

Verona turned around in surprise, the new pony tail swinging out as she did so.

"You serious? Awww... Now I feel kind of bad with all these gifts and I don't have anything for you."

Anton chuckled.

"I want to spoil you."

Verona rolled her eyes.

"Well, don't make a habit of it. Otherwise I might become a little spoiled brat."

She grinned wildly. He liked that she could make that face.

"So, what is it?" she asked happily, leaning on his shoulder again.

He pulled out the silver and red stared barrette. She was stunned, nothing came out of her mouth as she stared in disbelief.

"Is... Is... This for me?" she asked hesitantly, her hand reaching out delicately to the barrette.

"Of course."

Verona took it into her hands and studied it. She held it as if it would break under her touch. Slowly a smile drew on her face.

"It's beautiful." she spoke in a hushed whisper. "Can you help me...?"

He took the barrette back and slid it underneath the pulled back hair on her head. The barrette settled on the right side of her head. After making sure it secured properly and would not fall off, he lent back and admired the sight. In his mind she looked absolutely stunning.

"Wow." Anton let out.

Verona started to blush as she rubbed her hand over the barrette. She opened her mouth to speak but decided against it, instead choosing to answer with a kiss. It was not the maddened and lust filled ones they had shared quite recently, but rather gentle and delicate. When they parted Verona was not embarrassed. Rather she looked at him with a fiery determination. As she held his hands she looked out their small wooden slatted window.

"So...are we going to attend this dinner tonight?" she asked.

"I would love to stay here, but we kind of promised that we would. If we didn't turn up they would send someone. And that would ruin our fun even more."

Verona thought on it for a few seconds before nodding.

"Yeah. I really don't want someone knocking on the door demanding to see us when we are in the middle of it. That would take away the fun right there and then."

"We'd better find our clothes then." Anton said as he got off the bed.

---[]---

Outside was already filled with the distant sounds of revelling and celebration. Anton took one quick glance towards the central plaza, where most of the noise was coming from, and could already see the tell-tale signs of drunk villagers. Mainly in the form of stumbling and swaying bodies.

Verona, insisting on still wearing her chest armour, stretched out her limbs with accompanying cute squeaks.

“Do you think she went ahead already?” she asked, her eyes squinting tightly closed as she stretched out her back.

Anton took one quick look away from the central plaza and towards Kal's house.

“I don't think so.” he replied, receiving an odd look from Verona. “I think she's just waiting for us.”

He nodded towards Kal's house.

She was leaning against the door frame of her house, looking a little nervous, as she scanned her surroundings. She wore her usual clothes but now kept her hood down so her whole head was exposed. It was good to see her continuing to grow in confidence.

When she locked eye contact with Anton she smiled and began to walk towards them. Any sense of tiredness was gone. In fact she looked quite refreshed.

“Evening Kal.” Anton began once she was a few meters away. “You look like you've had a relaxing nap.”

“Thank-you Anton. I feel much better.” Kal replied with a smile. “You two look much better as well.”

Verona chuckled nervously as she scratched the back of her head. Neither of them really wanted to explain why they were looking more relaxed.

Kal's eyes drew towards Verona's barrette and new ponytail. Verona smirked as she touched the barrette.

“You like it?” she asked.

Kal took a moment before nodding. If anything, she looked rather jealous.

“I do.” she looked up at Anton and smiled. “It looks very good on you. Both of them do.”

That just made Verona smile even more.

“Thanks. Anton made a good choice.”

Kal nodded. Another loud clamour came from the central plaza, attracting their attention. If anything it sounded like a very loud and drunk party.

“Well...I think it's safe to say that the festivities have already started.” Anton nodded towards the central plaza.

As if on cue another particularly loud cheer rang out followed by copious amounts of laughter.

“Shall we go?” he offered.

Kal took another moment before answering, taking a deep breath before nodding.

“Yes...I'm not exactly sure what I'm meant to be doing at this...event.” Kal said with some hesitation.

She scratched her torn ear nervously, but stopped when she saw Anton looking. The story of how she lost it was probably a dark and terrible one. He coughed to distract his own mental wanderings. He started to walk towards the central plaza, he could only just hear their footsteps behind him. Kal always walked silently thanks to her clothed feet. He glanced back and saw that she was still a little nervous.

“I don't think it's going to be anything that you're going to have to worry about.” Anton said as he made sure that they were both following him. “It'll be just a couple of drinks and something to eat. Nothing scary or complicated.”

Kal still looked a little nervous but she was still determined to come along.

“You'll be fine.” Verona said, giving Kal a playful bump on her shoulder. “We're not going to just leave you there with a whole bunch of people that you don't know well.”

Kal smiled and nodded to Verona, glad that she was being looked out for.

They walked in silence towards the central plaza. Despite the sound coming from the area there were very few people there. It seemed that it was a quarter of the total population of Atros at most. Throughout the central plaza were dozens of large tables. Each had over a dozen people sitting around them, each in a varying state of inebriation. A few people walked between the tables carrying plates of food and large wooden mugs. Judging by the way those most inebriated looked at them, it was probably the source of their drunkenness.

“This...Where is everyone else?” Kal asked.

She sounded a little concerned but it felt like she was slightly relieved. Her first public dinner was not with over a thousand people there. Though, most present were quite drunk.

Anton looked towards the still setting sun. Quite a bit of light still came from it, so it was not as if the night had been going for very long and they just turned up late.

Maybe they started really early and are already in bed, recovering? Or, maybe they just decided to recover, this being the first night they can actually sleep in peace.

“I have no idea.” Anton answered. “I can't see anybody I really know very well...”

“Yeah.” Verona mumbled as she looked around. “Oh, there they are.”

Verona pointed towards a large table near the main hall. Anton could make out the shapes of a few members of the council, specifically Jeff and Sam. A quick scan over the rest of the plaza did not reveal the others.

“Come on. Let's find out what's happening.” Anton said as he led them through the crowds.

He could smell the alcohol on everyone's breath. There was no indication as to where the villagers were able to make and store such vast quantities that could be brought out at a moments notice. Most of the villagers, when they saw him, tried to act a little less drunk as he walked past. It was not terribly convincing, especially as they slumped back down and reverted to their shouting and laughing the moment they passed. None took any lingering notice of Kal. She seemed to appreciate that quite a bit.

“Hello Anton.” Jeff began with a bit of a drunken drawl.

There were several empty mugs on the table already, and those looked like they had been filled to the brim with something like Zac's liquid fire drink.

“Hello Jeff.” Anton took an empty seat, Verona sitting next to him and Kal taking the next seat.

Kal made sure that she did not have her back to the still revelling crowd and kept the chair next to her free. Anton was certain that something like that was not going to change any time soon.

“Where's everyone else?” Verona asked.

She took another wild glance around to see if the others were simply at another table, but it was clear they were not.

Sam shook her head as she took another swig.

“They've already gone to bed.” she answered, “Or, rather, haven't turned up. Most people are just so tired after the whole siege thing. They just want some good sleep. And don't want to wake up with a thumping head.”

Sam looked gingerly at Kal.

“I'm a bit surprised that you turned up, Kal. I thought you would not be that good with crowds.”

Kal shuffled uncomfortably and pursed her lips lightly.

“I...I am a little nervous about being near anyone, actually. But Anton said it would be a good idea for me to come to this. At the very least get me a bit more used to seeing lots of people at once, especially if there are going to be more in the future.”

“Good girl.” Sam said, handing Kal and Verona a mug full of the strange drink, Anton received one from Jeff.

“I take it that we haven't seen any more of those Kobolds?” Anton asked.

Jeff shook his head, an action he seemed to regret a second later.

“We've still got quite a few soldiers out on the wall.” he began. “Still don't feel very safe knowing that a god is directing the battle.”

“Neither do I.” Anton mumbled back.

“Don't you two go talking about all that depressing stuff right now.” Sam slammed the mug down. “We're celebrating a victory right now. Tomorrow, we can deal with that. But right now...”

“Fair enough.” Anton said, Verona confirming with a nod.

They all had a sip of the drink. It tasted just as powerful as it had the first time. More-so, as they had not drunk anything alcoholic for some time.

Nobody said anything for some time. They let the roar of those near them fill the air between them.

It did not take long before the drinking started to get heavy. Very few people arrived and quite a few left, it seemed that this was an impromptu celebration rather than something planned for the whole night.

---[]---

Sam and Jeff got even more drunk over the next half hour and decided that it was the perfect time and place to start singing. They both left the table, and after gathering a few dozen villagers and former bondsmen, they began to sing and dance. The words meant nothing to Anton, but they seemed to be having a good time.

Kal, having turned away from the spectacle, began to tap uncontrollably on her mug. Anton saw this and looked confusingly at her. She took several deep breaths before speaking.

"Anton, I... I know that I said that I was not ready to talk about Seocuria yet." Kal began, taking another swig of her drink. "But, I... The Graterious Empire is in-between Atros and Seocuria. It's a lot bigger than here to Maxill, and you can't just cross it without knowing what the Empire is like. I'm guessing that nobody here really knows anything about them?"

"Bertram might know something." Anton offered, turning his full attention to her. "But, that was some time ago, so things would have certainly changed since then."

"Same could be said for Sybil." Verona added. "She was in touch with the noble families, so she could know something as well, although it might not be right either."

Kal shuffled in her seat and sat more upright.

"The Graterious Empire is a very, very large place," she began, "There are a few small forests to the north, which get larger the further south you travel. Near where the Graterious Empire ends and...the wilderness begins, it's quite dense. Everywhere else is filled with grassland, which they use for grazing or for crops. It's a bit warmer during the summer and winter than it is around here. The people are...very different compared to here. Very rich in some places and extremely poor in others."

Sounds like it could be anywhere from earth.

“The Kar Kingdom fell over forty...winters, ago. So why haven't they taken over the old territory?” Anton asked.

Verona hummed in agreement.

Kal could only shrug.

"I'm not entirely sure...I could not visit large cities or talk to anyone for more than a few days before I had to move again.” she took another swig of her drink, “But, from what I was able to overhear from drunken villagers, it has something to do with the rulers. Four families run the Empire, with three supporting the Royal family. Those have smaller noble families which support them in the form of armies or money. Each one of the lesser Noble families has land and some source of income, which most of goes to the three major Noble families and the Royals."

"Okay." Anton lent back into his chair. "Sound simple enough so far. A Feudal sort of system..."

Kal shook her head.

"It would have been, about four or five winters ago when I left the Empire's territory. Two of the families, and I don't know their exact names, were almost in open rebellion against the Royals and the other noble family. From what I remember they were on the brink of war then. I think that's why they weren't expanding their territory. The other families might have thought they were trying to upset the balance. That was one of the reasons why I moved this way. I did not want to get caught in a war, where someone like me would have died just by being nearby."

Kal raised both of her clothed hands in apology. "But, that was some time ago. I don't know what might be happening now."

"It's a good start." Verona said. "But what about the people? Are they like those in Maxill or here?"

Kal looked away in thought.

"Different, I would say." she answered. "They don't have the... Bondsmen... system for most people. A few really bad criminals are basically in that system. The rest of the people are free to go wherever they choose instead of being locked to one area. Instead, they get paid money for their work."

Kal frowned.

"The actual workers, the ones that harvest and make things, don't earn a lot of money. Just enough to survive and not get any further in life. At least that's what I understood from what I could steal and what I managed to overhear. The people that own the places where they work... They have the money. I was never brave, or desperate, enough to steal from them."

A capitalist system, where the actual workers are paid a pittance and the rulers and owners of industry keep the money for themselves. Hardly original.

"This is probably the most important thing, Kal." Anton said. “And I know it might be a little difficult to you but we need to know.”

Kal tensed and took another swig of her drink. She was smart enough to guess what was coming.

"But, how do they treat beast-kin? I would rather you not have to wrap yourself up completely every day. Or if you are 'exposed', will we have to come make a run for it?"

Kal hesitated in answering, taking yet another swig of her drink. She had almost reached the bottom while Anton and Verona still were only a third of the way down.

"Not... Not like here.... Or in somewhere like Seocuria or Qaiviel. No, they're a bit better to... My... Kind. But that's not saying much."

She seemed loathed to have to even make the distinction.

"While they aren't beaten down slaves, or killed on sight, they are still slaves in a heavy and controlling form of bondage. They all have this iron collar on them that's basically impossible to get off." Kal began, rubbing her neck. “It has four loops around it where they can attach a chain to it. So …they can be led around. Displayed...to the other nobles.”

“These people...” Anton said offhandedly.

Kal raised an eyebrow but said nothing more about it.

“Most are bought from Seocuria and spend their lives as poor worker slaves, doing the worst and most dangerous activities. Ones that even the poor and desperate humans would not do by choice. The lucky ones, and if they can be called that, are servants for the household that owns them. Like those maids that were scurrying about in Duchess Belinda's mansion."

She held the mug up so it covered her mouth.

"Except they don't get raped or beaten to death on the whims of their owners."

"That's sick." Verona managed to say after an awkward pause.

Anton could not help but let out a sigh.

"It seems beast-kin have it pretty terrible everywhere." He said.

Kal lowered the mug and smiled. Smiled like she actually meant it, something that he was learning was quite rare.

"Here we don't. Here we won't."

She looked around to the still revelling villagers. Even now, when the alcohol would have loosened their inhibitions, they paid them no mind.

Perhaps this is something you wanted all along. Somewhere to call 'home'. Someone to just be able to talk to...Was that one of the things that Tethra would say you would find here?

"Do you think the other beast-kin will like it here?" Verona asked.

Kal nodded, though not as quickly as she did before. He caught a glimpse of her eyes as she looked up at him. While the horizontal can slit eyes did make it a little hard to tell what was happening, in his heart he had the suspicion that she was starting to become a little bit drunk. They moved with less certainty and the ever-present sharpness was dulled slightly.

"How are you feeling, Kal?" Anton asked.

It took her half a second to realise that he was talking to her. She hummed, letting him know that she did not hear.

"How are you feeling?" Anton asked again.

A light giggle came from Verona. She realised what he was getting at.

"Fine, I suppose." Kal replied, a look of confusion and nervousness on her face. "Actually... I do feel a little..."

"Tipsy?" Anton offered.

Kal frowned, but when Anton made a few motions to try and describe what she was feeling she instantly understood.

"Yeah. That." Kal smiled as she took another sip.

Anton reached over and titled the mug so he could get a look. There was nothing left, only a few drops in the corner and those were very lonely. She had drunk very hard and quickly.

"I think that's enough for now Kal."

She looked a little disappointed at the beginning, but as the seconds passed her attitude changed.

"I haven't drunk anything like that in some time." Kal scratched at her hair. "I don't think that I should have done that."

Verona laughed, taking a drink from her own mug.

"Don't worry, Kal." Verona began. "We'll make sure you get home safely."

Kal frowned and waited for Verona to continue. She folded her arms underneath her breasts and pressed them out further, closing her eyes as she spoke.

"My father said that it was bad manners to let a girl walk home alone."

Verona peered out of one eye at Kal, then to Anton.

"Especially if that person is drunk."

"I..." was all that Kal could manage.

She tried to stand, to prove that she was fine, but she knew that she was anything but. A slight stumble was all it took before she hurriedly sat back down. The longer she waited the more alcohol would enter her system and the more inebriated she would become.

Anton laughed, causing Kal to scowl and blush slightly at the same time.

“It's not a bad feeling, is it?”

Kal chuckled as she massaged her temple.

“We'll make sure you get back safely...It's probably about time for us to retire as well."

A quick glance around told him that most of the villagers were in a similar, or rapidly approaching, state as Kal. Catching Jeff's attention was not that easy, considering how drunk he was looking and that he was still laughing and dancing with over a dozen rowdy villagers.

"Jeff!” Anton said loudly to get his attention, which seemed to work. “We're off to bed. We've all got a big day tomorrow.”

Jeff, and quite a few others present, gave them nods of acknowledgement and returned to their drinking and singing.

"Great..." Anton sarcastically spoke about their level of care at the moment. "Oh well, let's get everyone back home safely."

Kal took a second, finally nodding without her usual certainty.

He glanced down at his own mug.

If anyone drunk that much in that short amount of time, you would be feeling it. Especially if you did not have any alcohol in over a decade.

Kal got to her feet with Anton and Verona. She took a few deep breaths to ready and balance herself before following them.

“You ready?” Anton asked.

Kal took a moment before nodding.

“It might just take me a bit longer....but I'll be fine.”

“We'll be right with you.” Verona said tenderly, though she was starting to get a little tipsy herself.

Anton moved to the other side and made sure that Kal knew that he was right there. It appeared to work as she relaxed and began to move more confidently.

Looking after the slightly swaying Kal distracted him from a gnawing realisation that was still eating away at the back of his mind.

None of using want to live in fear for the rest of our lives. We can't deal with the Demon threat, or whatever else might come our way if we are locked down in Atros through fear...I hope that we can actually meet you, Nithroel, and sort this out. Tonight.

---------------

Hello Everybody.

I hope you all had a good christmas & new year.

This chapter...Took quite some time to write. I think it was just one of those ones that I needed to get out and was a bit of a slog to get through. I think that may come through.

So everyone's very concerned about learning about Nithroel's involvment, Verona has a resolve to figure out what's happening to her, Kal is slowly getting better at socialising. Also a bit of information about the Graterious Empire, a noble family based empire that doesn't kill Beast-kin outright. So, there probably wasn't that much going on...oh well.

Next chapter is meeting Nithroel and finding out what a piece of work she is.

Thanks for reading and as always, thanks for any and all donations.

Chapter 039 - Nithroel

Chapter 039:

Anton awoke, after a rather passionate night, feeling rather odd. Not from exhaustion or satisfaction but it was as if the air itself had changed. As his eyes opened he was treated to a strange scene.

Verona lay sprawled half naked on his body, her head resting just below his own, sound asleep. Every few seconds she would murmur something and try to bury herself deeper into his body. Her arm was lying on his chest as her fingers scratched lazily about. It took him a moment before he realised what was wrong. She had no marks. Not on her arms, her shoulders or what little of her front was exposed. Her body had returned to her normal and unblemished pale white.

"What?" He mumbled groggily, his mind still foggy from the sleep.

He forced himself as awake as he could. There was no indication that the marks had faded or had been removed, rather it was if they had not been there in the first place.

Why are they gone...Is her glyph still there?

He could not see the glyph on the small of her back thanks to her head obscuring his view. Trying very hard not to wake her he moved his head around to get a better look, using his arm to move her sleeping body. At the base of her back lay the blood red tear mark with the spear running through it. But there was only the mark, there were no tribal marks spreading out across her body. Only those that grew straight out of the glyph remained.

Nothing was making sense.

Despite feeling like it was still early in the morning, before there should be light, the room was very well lit. He knew that he had put out the candles before going to bed, but it was not the expected orange light. Whatever it was it was not coming from a fire or from the stars. Everything was covered in a strange light blue hue.

He had seen this before. They were in the gods realm.

I guess that message I sent to Stratos and Esperit worked.

The weight in his arm began to stir, slowly rocking back and forth to wake herself.

Looks like Verona is coming along this time. I wonder if Jira is going to join in as well, like a mediator. Or agitator.

Verona mewled and turned so she lay on her back. Slowly her eyes, still dull and lacking their usual intensity, began to focus as she stretched out her body. She turned her head up to him and smiled slovenly.

"Good mornin.... What's wrong?" There was still the drowsiness to her voice. She must have seen the odd look on his face.

She pulled herself upright and looked down. Bewilderment painted on her face as she glanced around her body. Small gasps of surprise emitted from her mouth as hands explored her now mark-less body, her hands reaching all over her front and back. Her hands travelled up the front of her body and stopped at her breasts, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. They looked just like they did the first time, lacking the swirling red marks. A look of stupefaction graced her face as she looked down at him. She was back to normal, apparently.

"How... Did you?"

"No." Anton replied.

His words gave her pause as she looked around.

As she saw the eerie blue light emanating through their window her body tensed. A hand grabbed his shoulder and dug in sharply as her head snapped around. He could feel her fear and anxiety through them, not that he did not have those feelings as well.

"What's happening?" she asked in a panicked whisper, pulling on Anton's shoulder hard for him to get up. "Is this some attack from Nithroel?"

Anton pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around her warm and soft body. He stroked her head to try and calm her down, not that it really worked.

"I don't think so. I've seen this once before. The night after I told everyone that I'm from another world, I met my gods in this dream world."

Verona did not look happy and pulled herself even closer in Anton's embrace.

"I can't use it." Verona whispered. "I can't turn on my power."

"I don't think we can here." Anton said as he stroked her hair.

He looked at the end of the bed. Lying there were both of their clothes, neatly folded. It was certainly not how they left them last night.

"That's really creepy." Verona had seen the folded clothes as well.

Her face scrunched up in a mixture of fear and disgust.

"Has someone or something been in here? While we were sleeping? While we were..."

The thought was not a pleasant one.

"Honestly, I don't think so. I don't think that they have any sort of desires. But we are going to be expected soon." Anton said, patting her on the back as he moved to get out of bed. "I think it's just one of the ways this place works. But if they did then that's really sick."

Verona did not look happy or relieved. They quickly put their clothes back on. Verona's armour pieces were not present, for whatever reason. There was little they could do a the god normally and a piece of leather armour was certainly not going to stop the power of a god striking them.

As Anton opened their door, Verona ran over and tired to open the window. No matter how hard she tried she could not make it budge, despite many heaves and groans. He smiled as warmly as he could as she made her way back to his side.

"I just wish I had my spear. I feel so naked and helpless without it." she said as she passed him, turning backwards as she walked. "And the armour helped with there things."

She picked up her breasts with both hands through her shirt and let them drop. Not very far though, Anton had often wondered about the genetics that she had.

"We'll see about getting some seamstresses to make you something." Anton bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "Who actually makes the clothes here?"

Verona paused before answering.

"There were some people to the south that did that before. Now I think that it's still some of the older people but they're getting help from some of the soldiers that aren't on guard duty."

"Huh. We might want to look into that."

The other doors they passed, which had been left slightly ajar when they had gone to bed, were shut. Anton tired to push on one as he went part. His hand did not even budge it. The door was held back by the same mysterious power that governed this realm.

The front door lay right infront of them. Verona took a deep breath and pushed it open.

She gasped as she saw the outside.

It looked as if time had stopped in the middle of an explosion. Broken and fragmented buildings floated in the pale blue light that surrounded them. Even the ground was broken and appeared to drop off into the blue nothingness below. He glanced to the west while Verona was still stunned by what she was seeing. The road extended for another few meters then stopped, all the buildings in that direction were broken. It appeared they did not want them to head that way.

"Wow. Are... Are they all dead?" Verona asked, still unable to believe her surroundings.

Anton shook his head, Verona took some relief that everyone she knew was not dead.

"This was just a dream world the last time I was here. The whole village looked like this. When I woke up it was all back to normal."

"So... Now what?"

"Last time they were waiting for me in the central plaza when we were still in the Main Hall." Anton looked around for any sort of side paths or alleyways the gods may have overlooked, but there were none. "We might as well head that way, they won't be coming to us."

Verona turned and led them both towards the central plaza.

About twenty meters later Verona came to a grinding halt. Anton was distracted looking around at the bizarre architecture of this world, his mind wondering how it will change with time as the village grew, and did not notice and bumped into her. Even though their contact was fleeting he could feel her apprehension.

Leaning against a building, one which obscured their view to the central plaza, was a woman. She was wearing a large brimmed leather hat with bloody bones sewn into the rim. Underneath that was shoulder length brown hair, followed by a blood red vestment with more bloody bones sewn into it. Droplets of blood fell from her hat but disappeared before they could reach the ground.

Anton recognised her instantly. There was no way he would forget their first meeting. It was Jira, the Demigoddess of Blood, and Verona's contacted god. Verona groaned, reaching back and grabbing his hand.

"That's her." she mumbled. "That's my goddess. Look at her. She scares the crap out of me every time she tries to talk to me. Just sort of yells at me..."

"That's not a nice thing to say, after all the nice things I've let you experience."

Jira moved very quickly infront of them. Her face hid something, like it had the first time. Something deep was going on underneath a facade of a simple smile.

Verona frowned and moved closer to him, using his arm as a sort of shield.

Jira sighed as she lent down so her eyes were at the same level as Verona's, the bones attached to her clothes rattling with every movement. Small drops of blood continued to fall from the rim of her hat and fade into nothingness. Verona tracked one as it fell, her eyebrows frowning at the sight.

"It's such a shame." Jira continued in her fake and sickly sweet voice, glancing up at Anton. "She barely speaks to me. After what you two managed to do to me, the least you could do is say hello when I try to talk to you, Little Verona."

Verona's body became even more tense as she growled back. Jira thought it was funny and laughed lightly, never breaking eye contact.

"When you do come into my dreams," Verona began, "You always show me death and destruction."

"The world that you see now is a reflection of the mind of the person we are contacting."

Jira, still leaning down, looked either side.

"Right now we are in your boyfriends mind. It was like this the last time. Yours is a little more... Chaotic."

"Why are you here?" Anton asked. He did not like how Jira was speaking to her.

"I wanted to see how my little disciple was doing."

"Well, you have."

"And... I'm also here to keep your gods and her from tearing each-other apart. As someone that really doesn't have an interest in your little rivalry, I was chosen to mediate."

"So we-"

"Why didn't you warn me about the drinking the blood?" Verona sharply cut in, even Jira seemed surprised. "That blood got into my mouth and then I..."

Jira smiled warmly, like a mother to a child. It was disturbing to say the least.

"Did you enjoy that?"

Verona, through his arms, felt like she wanted to punch her.

"No. I did not enjoy it." she said through gritted teeth.

"You say that, but... I thought you might enjoy it since it was so long since you had been with a man. Being all alone in that big house."

"What if it had distracted me and I died?"

Jira shrugged.

"Then you would not have been worthy of being my disciple, of being called a 'Blood Berserker', like you mortals call them. Besides, you have done very well, killing so many Kobolds so quickly, and still just a novice. You have made me very proud."

"Is that what the marks are?" Anton asked.

Jira nodded, a seemingly genuine smile on her face.

"They are a sign of ones' strength and devotion. You, Anton, should....Well, they also will help her to control and use her power with greater efficiency. Although..."

"It covers most of my body." Verona said quite angrily. "Only my face is free. I didn't exactly ask for that."

Jira shrugged again, far more dismissively this time.

"There's nothing I can do. They have been etched into your very soul so they're with you for life. I suppose you could cover them, but they will always be there. Etched into your skin. All of my other disciples would kill anything I asked, even a dragon or twelve, if they could even got a hundredth of what you have now. But, since it irks you so much...."

Jira lent down again to Verona's level. He did not like the expression on her face, a mixture of contempt and annoyance.

"I'll make sure they stay no matter what.” she flicked Verona's head hard, something that stunned them both, "That's what you get for keep being so disrespectful to someone that gave you unimaginable power despite what you did to me, you dumb little cunt."

Verona shouted with rage, pulling herself off Anton and threw herself at Jira. She threw her fist at Jira's still bent down face but it never connected. At the last moment, with inhuman speed, she righted herself and moved out of the way. Verona kept moving forward with her fist, skidding to a halt a meter away. She turned to see Jira smirking at her.

Jira chuckled as she threw up her hands in defeat.

"You silly little thing. You can't hurt me in here. But I will say that I went too far," she turned to face Anton, "Otherwise your boyfriend is going to try and hit me too."

He only realised it then but he had taken a step forward, both his hands were curled into fists. Part of him did want to punch Jira until she was unrecognisable blob but the other part knew that she was going to be needed for whatever his gods had planed. Not that he could have been fast enough to catch her or nor use his magic in here. He would need to let it go.

"Jira, you've had your fun. Stop antagonising her."

Jira smiled.

"Of course. I'm still a little bit cross is all."

Verona walked back to Anton's side, keeping her eyes firmly on Jira.

"Little one, if you want to remain in control of yourself you will need to properly understand and master your power. Right now you are using it well. Very creatively actually, I liked your spinning spikes, very deadly. But, you allow yourself to loose your mind in the revelling and bloodshed. Work on that and it will become easier to control."

So basically loose the 'Berserker' part of being a 'Blood Berserker'.

"How do I do that?" Verona was trying her best to remain calm.

Jira chuckled.

"I'm not going to tell you. You're going to have to figure it out on your own. Just like Anton does...except for a few hints here and there."

She looked at Anton.

"All gods are governed by a set of rules. Remember that..."

Was that.... That was a hint of some kind, wasn't it? But you won't tell us these rules. Still, should be helpful when dealing with Nithroel.

"Where are the others?" Anton asked.

"Just up ahead." Jira answered. "I just wanted the chance to meet you both first."

She started walking away, humming a tune as the bones rattled on her clothes. Anton recognised the tune, it was the one Verona hummed from time to time. Verona was furious, her face and fists clear with anger, but let it slide as she came back to his side. She grabbed his hand tightly and they both moved forward in silence.

She squeezed his hand even tighter again and brought his head down so she would only have to whisper.

"She's a bitch." Verona mumbled. She watched Jira's back with outright hostility.

"Yes she is."

"You believe what she said, about the marks being carved into my soul?"

"I... I don't know. Probably."

Verona did not seem any happier. Jira continued to hum the tune, her head bopping from side to side. He had no idea if she was listening in. Judging from her previous performance she probably would not care, but that all could have been a ruse.

"But, despite how she acted to you we did get a few pieces of information."

"Like how the gods have to follow some sort of unknown rules?"

"That, and something else."

Verona titled her head but Anton did not answer, fearing that Jira might be listening in.

She said that she could not be hurt by us in this realm. So it means they can be hurt. Tethra was left in her crippled state since she had no real followers, but I think that she meant something different. Here, in this world, gods can bleed.

---[]---

Jira stopped humming the tune, to Verona's great relief, as they entered the central plaza. In the middle was a giant round table with seven chairs spaced around it. Three were unoccupied. He could see his three gods sitting on one side of the table, two empty seats to one side. There was another empty seat a quarter of the way around from those. That was presumably Jira's seat. Another quarter way around, and opposite his gods, was another chair but this was occupied. There sat a woman with long flowing blond hair and a slim green dress. She did not even look at them as they approached, keeping her attention firmly on his gods. Tethra, still covered in chains, appeared to be receiving the brunt of the attention.

So you must be Nithroel. You look quite stuck up, to say the least.

"They're here." Jira said to his gods, the false smile and sweetness returned.

All three of his gods looked over to them, Nithroel kept her attention firmly on them. Jira stopped and turned to Anton.

"I'll take my seat so Nithroel doesn't get out of control. Again. Just don't take too long."

She looked at Verona.

"Remember what I said."

Verona grunted in response. The moment that Jira turned away she shuddered.

"I really hate her." she whispered.

His own gods rose from their seats and walked towards them. Stratos was the first to greet him, giving Jira a respectful nod as they passed which she returned.

So you can be civil.

He wore his usual white toga with a purple sash, along with a wide smile on his elderly face.

"Hello Anton." He began in his old and wizened voice. "Seems that someone has not taken our burgeoning resurgence well."

He held out his hand which Anton shook.

"I hope we can make it continue."

Stratos smiled.

"I certainly hope so."

"So this is Verona, Jira's little annoyance.” Esperit spoke with a giggle as she emerged from behind Stratos. “She's very cute in person."

He saw the flaming and flickering hair first. Gone was the ridiculous dress she wore the first time, replaced with something more akin to a red sun dress. It still revealed a considerable portion of her cleavage and only covered down to her middle thigh as well as exposing her arms.

It was more alluring than the first time.

There was a pain on his side. Verona was grabbing his shirt, and the skin underneath, very hard. Her face was burning with jealousy. She must have caught him looking.

Esperit laughed.

"There's no need to look at me like that. I have no interest in your partner, Blood Berserker."

Hearing that word again made Verona's grip even tighter, enough to make him wince from the amount of force she was putting into him.

Both of them laughed as Anton squeezed down on her hand. She mumbled an apology as she let him go.

"It's good to see you. A shame that things could not have continued peacefully." Anton said as he shook her hand as well, it was less firm than Stratos. "But now-"

"Can powers be traded, or swapped?" Verona cut in.

Her eyes stared at Esperit with such an intensity that her head backed away slightly, all previous thoughts of jealousy had gone. Esperit smiled bitterly.

"I'm afraid not. Once a glyph has been implanted on a soul it can only be removed-"

“Yes?”

"By destroying the soul. Or at the very least leaving it incredibly damaged. Barely usable."

"Oh."

Verona did not sound as dejected as he thought she would have been. Part of her may have already known it, she just needed to hear it. He rubbed her head and brought her into his side, still hurting from when she had grabbed him.

"If you don't like your powers, then why did you choose Jira?" Stratos asked.

Because it was her subconscious, the one that ripped power from Jira and that's why she's pissed?

"I don't really think it was my choice." Verona mumbled.

Anton looked over at the table. Jira was talking to Nithroel, not showing any sign that she was listening in. Nithroel was looking at Jira but also at them. He caught her eye for a second. It was filled with utter contempt for everyone, even for Jira.

Let's hope this whole thing doesn't backfire.

"Jira must have gotten to you at the exact moment when you were searching for power. Although, it should not have been that simple..." Esperit trailed off at the end.

"Then how come Anton has all your powers then?"

Stratos and Esperit looked at each-other and smiled.

"He's different." They both answered.

"Yes. Yes he is." Verona added, with a warm smile.

Anton felt quite embarrassed by to this when he heard the clinking of chains. Tethra was finally close to them, it seemed that she could not even walk that fast.

"Hello Tethra." Anton said as she joined the other gods.

"Hello." came her reply.

It was not as hoarse or as strained as before. Now it seemed like she was slightly ill.

I bet this is a reason why Nithroel tired to attack us.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Tethra nodded. The chains which covered her body and kept her alive, if what the gods said was true, rattled with every movement and breath. The metallic clinks worked their way into his mind.

"That's very good to hear."

He could not see her face, it too was covered in cloth, but from the way her body moved she seemed to be happier.

"Will we have time after this to talk a bit longer?" Anton asked.

All three gods nodded.

"In that case, we should not keep them waiting much longer. I take it that is Nithroel?"

"The same piece of ass she always was." Stratos said in a huff.

"She's been nothing but angry and annoyed since we gathered." Esperit added, Tethra nodding in agreement.

"Is there anything that we should not talk about?"

Stratos nodded to Tethra. Tethra shrugged apologetically.

"If you weren't here it may be insulting to her. I take it from the way she is looking at us that she has a massive...?"

Stratos and Esperit could barely hold in their laughter.

"She thinks she is the most powerfull god to have ever existed." Stratos scoffed.

“Is she?” Verona asked, she seemed quite worried.

Tethra waved her hand, letting them know it was not exactly true.

"Regardless... She is stronger.... Than all of us put together." It took great pains for Tethra to speak but she did it any way. "But... She is not invincible."

"She may be trying to flatten a bug before it becomes an issue." Anton offered.

"But... " Tethra started speaking again. "Her followers are battling the demons right now."

"And the other heroes are on her side as well." Esperit added.

She was still annoyed that she had been unable to seduce any of them the first time.

"We need to do our best not to antagonise her any more than we have. We'll have to play it by ear, but I'm worried that she might just not care and declare total war....perhaps we go could go with something along a lines that while she could destroy Atros, maybe, she would not be able to guarantee that she could get me. And if I live, I think she's smart enough to realise that I'll do everything I can do to hurt her back. With my magic that would be quite a bit."

"That's a really bad...plan if things go wrong." Verona paused and looked him in the eye, "I don't like it. I like being with you and you've only just gotten back."

He lent down and kissed her on the forehead, her face flushing as he did it infront of others.

"It won't come to that."

I hope it doesn't.

Verona did not seem entirely convinced, neither did his gods. It made him worry as to what sort of person Nithroel really was.

He took a deep breath and stared walking towards the table, the other gods and Verona following. They said nothing as they took their seats. His gods took their seats, leaving two between them and Jira. Verona took the seat closest to his gods leaving him as a buffer from Jira. Jira smiled and chuckled as she looked at Anton as he sat next to her. The smell of blood filled his senses, it seemed to be emanating from her. It was no wonder that Verona wanted to keep her as far away as possible.

As everyone got settled in it gave Anton a chance to properly study Nithroel. He started from the top. Her face was beautiful, in a hard and classical way. Her high cheek bones and a pointed nose gave her an odd, striking and sharp demeanour. Golden wavy hair flowed down to her waist. If she had not been a god it would have taken many hours to get it just right. There appeared to be something like a light mascara around her pale green eyes. He did not know of what to make of that, the other gods had nothing to do with make-up.

But, it was what she was wearing, as clothes, that gave him pause.

She really was not wearing anything. A thin green silken dress hung loosely from halfway down her shoulders, a thin white strand went over from the top over her back to keep it positioned. The skin underneath was incredibly pale, even lighter than Verona's skin.

There was no way for Anton to adequately describe what lay below. Esperit's first dress would have been considered quite conservative in comparison. Many sections looked like they had been cut out but enough remained for it to be just called clothing. It did an adequate job of covering her breasts, larger than Verona's or Esperit's, but left little to the imagination.

He could not see lower down, as the table hid everything from her stomach down. He guessed that it was just as little.

A single thought flashed through his mind.

I don't really get it. This.... This is the goddess that is giving us all this trouble? At least I can sort of see why the men would have been seduced, but not the women...maybe. Verona was cross when she saw me looking as Esperit, so we see the gods the same at least. Does she have some power that we don't know about?

He had no answer. Verona made an odd noise. She was studying Nithroel as well, and judging by the way she was looking at her, quite annoyed.

Verona saw him looking and pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear.

"She looks like a whore."

Verona said it with a perfectly straight face. Anton could not bring himself to disagree, especially since this was meant to be a peace meeting. He moved his hand onto hers and gave it a squeeze. Nithroel made no move to let them know she heard but he did not want to risk giving away any hint of what she said.

Jira raised both hands and clapped them loudly over her head.

"Now that everyone has settled in, shall we begin?"

Any remnant of how she treated Verona was gone, her facade was back.

"Now as the... Mediator of this little gathering, I-"

"There is nothing to discuss."

Nithroel spoke with a light but authoritative tone. She seemed like she was used to getting her way, though that did not explain her dress sense.

"Well, Nithroel," Jira raised her hand towards her, "I think there is."

Nithroel frowned, almost scowled, but at them and not at Jira.

Esperit was the first to speak.

"Our... Joint... Disciple, Anton, has had his home attacked by Kobolds. Many Kobolds."

Nithroel scoffed.

"Joint Disciple...” Nithroel scrunched up her face. “An abomination that you allow to walk and defile our world."

That's pretty rude.

"Do you deny that they were yours?" Esperit asked.

"Everyone knows that the beasts of the forest worship you." Stratos spoke with an unusually calm tone.

Nithroel said nothing, tapping a finger on the table. There was no other noise in their dimension.

She stopped, and looked towards him.

"How did I miss your soul?" she asked. "I was certain that I had gotten you all."

All eyes turned to him.

"I woke up in that strange realm when you were leaving with everyone else.” Anton explained flatly. “It must have been that I was that disoriented by my arrival that even the gods could not see me. I know that I was probably the worst hit by that bus.”

Nithroel made barely any movement, barely even blinking her eyes.

"Pity. You would have done much better under my leadership."

I'm not sure about that. At least according to my own gods the last time I talked to them in this realm.

"Regardless, I am enjoying my time here.... Which may be difficult if thousands of Kobolds are sent to kill us."

"The Kobolds... Are not the most intelligent beings. Like those to your side."

Hostile.

"Even if I told them to do something through a vision, like the one you are in now, they are not smart enough to follow it through...exactly."

Nithroel looked very smug. The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.

"What about something more certain, unlike a vision." Anton said.

The smirk started to fade.

"Even if I was not very smart I would like to think that I would still have the brains to follow something written on a piece of paper, especially if it had a map attached."

The smirk disappeared completely.

"Are you sure you are smart enough? You picked them as your gods over-"

"In the first Kobold camp we destroyed, near the lake, the ones that tried to attack and kill us without provocation-"

"They were not unprov-" Nithroel started.

"There was this stone totem in the middle."

Nithroel lent back into the chair, folding her arms underneath her breasts.

"I have been told that the symbol on top, a large leaf surrounded by antler horns, is your insignia."

Nithroel stared at him silently for some time.

"You trust the words of a mangy rat too much." Nithroel looked dismissively up at the blue sky.

"She has a name." Verona said rather angrily. "And she is not a rat. Her name is Kal, and she is a half breed beast-kin. And she is my friend. "

"She is still a freak, even some of you humans can do the right thing by removing them from existence. The fact that you would even consider a creature like that a friend is..."

Verona breathed in to verbally fight her but refrained. She exhaled slowly and kept her eyes firmly on Nithroel. Right now, she was not going to rise to the challenge. He too felt angry that someone as brave and troubled as Kal was being insulted and there was little that he could do right now without jeopardising what they were trying to accomplish. He said and did nothing.

Nithroel shrugged, perhaps annoyed that it had not gotten a larger response. Anton could see Jira out the corner of his eye looking rather proud. He was not quite sure why though, perhaps that they did not rise to the challenge.

It's no wonder the beast-kin have no desire to worship her if that's the way she's going to treat them. She must not need it, judging from that attitude.

How much worship and power does she get from the wood elves then? There's also the beasts too....

"I felt something odd coming from it." Anton continued, he was not going to bring up what she had just said. "Like someone was trying to strangle me. Was that you?"

She hid it well but she looked quite uncomfortable.

"And if it was?"

"Well, we found a piece of paper in the camp. A very fine piece of paper, nothing like the scraps that I have to deal with."

Nithroel frowned. She did not like where he was leading this.

Surely she must have known that we found it... Maybe without the totems she is blind, or at least cannot see clearly. So she would not know what happened after we tore them down.

"Now my 'rat' friend told me that Kobolds do not have a written language."

Nithroel opened her mouth to speak but Anton cut her off.

"However some other people said it looked elvish. Specifically Wood Elves. I've been told that the wood elves worship you exclusively."

"They do. But a piece of paper doesn't prove anything. If this is the best you have," Nithroel pushed out her chair, "Then I will be leaving. I have more important things to worry-"

"Nithi, please wait." Jira spoke in her fake sweet voice, "You agreed to have this meeting like the rest of them. You already insulted them by insulting their beast-kin friend so you can at least sit down and wait a bit longer."

“You cannot-”

Jira slammed both hands onto the table. Everyone looked stunned at her. Everything stopped.

“Sit. Down. And. Behave.” Jira ordered, her face was filled with a silent anger.

Nithroel was about to retort but stopped. There was a grumble as she looked back at him. He even heard some light chuckling from Esperit and Stratos.

Wow...Does Jira have some sort of sway over Nithroel...Or is this related to those rules she talked about. Can the gods not go back on their word without consequence? And what would that even mean?

How powerful is Jira compared to Nithroel, or my own gods? Probably, very.

Instead of waiting for Nithroel to speak Anton decided to keep going.

"At the second camp," Anton continued, "That attacked us with several thousand Kobolds-"

"From different tribes that are meant to hate each-other and try to kill one another on sight, all coming together." Verona said angrily.

"Quite. We found another piece of paper. Much more complete this time."

Nithroel stopped. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She must have known, or at least guessed, what they had found.

"This one had the map. A map of the village in which I live in, and there was a mark pointing to where I live. Now, I can't read the writing above it but I'm sure that it won't be an instruction for the Kobolds to gather outside my house and throw me a surprise party. Or perhaps it was..."

Nithroel held his gaze and said nothing. His gods seemed quite happy, even Jira looked like she wanted to burst into laughter. Anton, though, knew they were at a severe disadvantage when it came to strength. He could say what he wanted to but he did not have the power to back them up against her armies. If Nithroel really wanted to she could send an army of wood elves and there would be nothing left of them.

It's time to offer her a way out, one that does not make her loose face. If she actually cares about that...

"In the interest of everyone, I am willing to let everything that has happened remain in the past. Where it belongs."

This got some odd looks, a very unhappy one from Verona. Quite a number of villagers had died against the Kobolds and just saying that it all meant nothing was quite an ask for her. He hoped she understood. Even Nithroel looked oddly at him. She too must have not thought he would say that.

"So, I propose a sort of treaty." Anton continued. "One that clearly states that we do not attack each other."

Nithroel lent forward, not caring that her breasts pushed up against the table.

"Let's, for a moment, say that I did want you dead. Why would I send thousands of Kobolds against you when I could send an army of loyal Wood Elves that would slaughter you all without effort or hesitation?"

Because they are so far away, or you don't want to take the chance that we might be able to kill them before they killed us.

Nithroel continued without waiting for an answer. "It's because you, and your little troupe of idiots on the far side of this world, are so weak that they aren't even worth my time."

I'm taking from that that you did order the attack.

"On another note, how are you going with the battle with the Demons?" Anton interrupted her, mainly to get her off balance.

If she managed to whip herself up into a big enough of a frenzy she may just walk away, even with whatever hold Jira had over her. Then there would be nothing stopping her from sending an elven army. Their lives could get cut very short.

Nithroel looked genuinely happy.

"My armies, and the other heroes, have killed thousands of them. How many have you killed?"

Anton smiled as warmly as he could.

"None, I'm afraid. But I don't see why we need to be fighting. I take it the Wood Elves are taking the brunt of the invasion?"

Nithroel nodded and seemed to be even happier.

“They are. Not that you could even help. So many of your kind stand in-between you and them.”

"Then I think we can live in peace, even if we have nothing more to do with each-other. The last thing either of us want is to be fighting each-other when there are larger threats facing us. I will not seek war with you or your worshippers. We can live in peace."

Nithroel leant back. She looked down at the table and started to tap her fingers again. Was she taking it seriously? And why was she? It actually made Anton quite nervous as her pondered the reasons.

"Very well. We will have this peace treaty you speak of."

Anton felt himself relaxing. Though, he was concerned as to why she would agree so quickly.

"But, I have some conditions."

Immediately his body tensed.

Not that quickly then...

"Here we go." Esperit mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

His gods had been very quiet, seemingly content to let Anton do the talking. They would definitely be a part of these conditions.

"Your old kingdoms' capital, Surdon or whatever. You have control of that, fifty miles south of there, along to the sea and everything north of that line. For some three thousand or so people, that should be more than enough room for whatever it is your kind do."

That is a good chunk of the old Kar Kingdom territory we could not actively control with so few people. The capital is infested with goblins, so it's not exactly like we control it right now. Still, what lies beyond that? Is it just a buffer, or is there something that you want there?

Perhaps the old kingdom had something that could do you harm that they built there...maybe that has something to do why the old kingdom was over-run by monsters and beasts? Perhaps even ordered by you? Something to ask Bertram about.

Anton was about to speak when another thought cropped into his head.

Three thousand? We have one thousand, seven hundred people...Where are the rest?

Does that mean there might be another village or something that survived. If Atros could then another might. We need the map from the Graterious Empire or the Qaiviel Kingdom. Judging from what she said it'll probably be north of that line. I wonder if they'll be friendly.

"What about the Kobolds still in that territory?" Verona asked, breaking him out of his trance. "And any other beast or creature that.... Worships you?"

Nithroel frowned.

"I will tell them to leave the area as soon as they can. It may take some time and not all may listen to me."

"That's fine." Verona folded her arms and leant back into her chair. "We won't seek them out but we'll fight them off if they try to attack. Those won't be yours so I think that that will be fine with you."

Anton did not know if Verona was trying to be combative but she certainly appeared to be. It seemed to work out though as Nithroel nodded her head in agreement.

Did she think that we would overlook it? What Verona said though, it works both ways. It basically lets them fight us with no consequences for her, so long as she doesn't coordinate them. She'll just say those aren't hers. It should mean that attacks of this size are basically stopped...I'll ask Jira if there is some way of writing this all down.

"Secondly..."

She looked straight at Tethra. The prayer goddess had not made a sound throughout the meeting, and that may have been for the best. Her speaking would have given away her small increase in power, and Nithroel was supposed to hate her the most for some, as of yet, unknown reason.

It was not difficult to guess what she was going to ask.

"You swear 'her' off."

"Tethra?" Anton asked as he looked over at Tethra.

Her facial cloth hid her facial expression but it could not hide the way her body twitched. She was nervous and but also determined, determined not to keep being on the receiving end of her attacks.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

The tone of her voice was unbearably smug.

The reasons were obvious in his mind. It was a very strong and flexible power that, while requiring a considerable amount of mana to use, was able of healing mortal wounds and improve oneself immesurably. Many people were alive just because of that power. He was also starting to understand that there was much more to it than just the ability to heal and modify ones' body. That could be probably be said for the lightning and fire magics that he had yet to explore.

Mostly, he had no intention of abandoning someone who had done him no wrong.

There is so much anger direct at Tethra. I need to know what the cause of all this anger is so we don't make a blunder in the future.

He did not answer and just stared. She quickly understood that he was not going to budge.

"Fine. Since you will not be giving 'her' up, then I would ask that you to cooperate completely with more more intelligent followers. Things like dealing with any Demons that make it to your lands, or monsters like the Goblins that you humans have continuously allowed to infest the world."

"You don't control the Goblins?" Verona asked.

Nithroel shook her head.

"Those things live and die by their own rules. None of us control them."

"I do not see a problem with that." Anton said, "So long as that does not mean subservient."

Nithroel paused for a moment.

"... Of course. But if the Demons do invade through there I want you, and your armies, to help."

"Fully agreed." Anton clapped his hands. "I'm glad that we got this sorted out before this became more serious."

"Since we have settled-"

"Hang on." Verona interrupted Nithroel as she was about to stand up.

She gave his hand a squeeze.

"Now, what you and Anton have agreed to sounds nice, but I don't see any reason as to why you should follow anything you just said about keeping the peace. Why should you follow anything you've just said?"

Jira nodded.

"She's right. Anton cannot announce to the other gods what has happened, but you can."

A pang of annoyance formed on Nithroel's face.

"I think it would be best if you performed the Sacrament of Binding. Otherwise...There is no reason for them to follow the rules either."

He thought she was talking about him for a moment, but Jira nodded towards his gods. They seemed quite resolute in the way they looked at her.

Is that it? That even as weak gods they have extraordinary power that they have all agreed to keep in check. How much of a difference is their between a weak and strong god?

Nithroel's face scrunched up in annoyance.

Maybe it's not that. But there might be something else though...Pride? Or maybe it's just a way to officially limit my movements to the south and make sure everyone else knows? It seems you are taking it pretty serious, for whatever reason it is.

Anton suppressed the desire to smirk.

I thought you were probably not going to follow anything of what you said. I just about to bring it up but Verona beat me to it. I'm glad she did.

"Very well."

Nithroel glowed, a strange golden aura began to emanate from all over her body.

"I Nithroel, Goddess of the Forest, agree to the peace treaty dictated, including the first and third terms of the treaty."

She looked towards him. A strange look of smugness overcame her face.

"May there be peace in our time."

Was that a deliberate reference to Earth? The last time someone said that it really didn't work out for everybody. Do you know about what happened on Earth? Did one of the others tell you?

I wonder how they're doing.

The glow began to fade. Jira glowed a little, a faint red, and then it was gone. He heard a small chuckle from Esperit.

She saw him looking and leaned over so she could whisper to him. Verona scowled, she did not like having Esperit's large breasts pushed into her head that forced her to move slightly closer to Anton.

"Every god heard that, and Jira gave the details of what the treaty actually said. Something like this has not happened in over thirty thousand years."

There was a wicked smile on her face.

"Everyone will be very interested in what happens now. If she breaks it... Well, let's just say that it will not be very good for her."

She resumed her upright position, Verona staring furiously at her chest.

I don't think they're any bigger than yours. Anyway, I guess that sort of answers the question of what will happen if Nithroel tries to attack us. Nothing good, especially if someone as powerful as her actually needed to do it... It fills me with a sense of worry though. What happened last time this was needed? And what lies to the south that is so important to her that she would giver up her attacks?

Nithroel looked thoroughly displeased at what had just transpired.

"Now that I have gone out of my way to satisfy your paranoia, I would very much like to leave."

Anton looked to Jira and his own gods, who nodded. It seemed that this Sacrament of Binding was no small thing.

"Just make sure you do not break it first, human." Nithroel growled at him. "For if you do, I will make sure there is nowhere for you to run and hide."

The anger you have. It would be wrong right now to try and have a go at you.

"I understand the terms. Don't attack anything out of the fifty mile line south of the old capital, Surdon, and help the Wood Elves should there be a mutual enemy."

Nithroel, surprisingly, nodded in response.

The chair groaned as she pushed it back up and stood up.

Anton's guess about her choice of attire had been correct. The green dress left most of her stomach exposed right down to her hips, and so too where most of her legs. Slits opened up to the top of her thighs through the green dress and allowed her to bare almost all of her legs.

What? What compels you to dress like that for a meeting like this?

Somebody sniggered. It was not Verona or his gods, it came from his left.

Jira looked like she was barely able to keep herself from laughing.

"What?" Nithroel asked angrily.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

Jira started to laugh, so to did Stratos. The old man was red in the face and was desperately trying to hold his laughter in, even bringing his hand up to hold it shut. The frankness of Jira must have been too much.

"You would speak to me like that?"

"Yes.” Jira shook her head. “Because, right now, you look like.... Some...I don't know what sort of look you are trying to go for. Not really something I even would wear normally."

Nithroel started to flush.

"This is traditional elven priestess attire."

Really?

"And not something for you to mock."

Jira laughed as she stood up as well. Nithroel was a bit taller but seemed to be shrinking away underneath Jira's laughing gaze.

"Whatever. My job here is done so I am going myself."

She turned to Verona.

"Despite what I said earlier, it was good to see you in person without you running away. Hopefully you will actually talk to me in the future."

Verona huffed and folded her arms.

"Not if you talk to me the way you did before." she mumbled angrily.

"I guess I'm still a bit cross from what you did. But the number of Kobolds that you killed have started to make up for it."

Verona made no sound but seemed very unhappy, this whole time had just been one bad experience for her. Nithroel looked quite cross at the mention of all her Kobolds being slaughtered by Verona. Jira seemed to be liking that even more.

"Alright, you all behave now. Good luck, Verona and Anton."

Jira gave a final little wave before a circle of red emerged at her feet. A strange squelching sound filled the air as she descended through the circle and disappeared.

She really is one strange lady, a completely different person when nobody is looking. I'll definitely make sure that Verona gets pampered a few times after this.

Nithroel stood alone. She did not have the chance to properly retort to Jira about anything and now she certainly could not.

There was one final glance, still full of contempt, as another ring formed at her bare feet. A green circle formed, vines and branches grew out from it. They quickly grew up and encircled her entire body. As quickly as they came they were gone and so to was Nithroel.

Anton turned to his gods.

"Is she gone?"

Stratos nodded, still recovering from his earlier near outburst of laughter.

"Neither her nor Jira can hear us now." Esperit explained.

"Thank fuck." Anton and Verona said together, a smile forming on their faces.

"Does she always dress like that?" Verona asked, getting off the chair and sitting on the table infront of Anton. She picked up one of his hands and held it firmly, all the while looking at Esperit. A tiny hint of burning jealousy was still evident on her face.

Do the gods even have a desire for sex, or even intimacy?

Verona pinched his hand hard and said nothing.

"Basically." Stratos replied. "Some times she turns up wearing less.”

I think that's an exaggeration.

"So there are Wood Elven women walking around like that?" Anton asked. "That sounds like a bit much for them."

Stratos smiled.

"Out of all the elves, the Wood Elves live the longest. A hundred thousand years is a very young age for them do die, and that's if they really don't try to look after themselves.”

Anton was shocked.

To live for so long...

Even Verona was stunned. He had told her before that a year was essentially the same thing as a winter here, how they addressed the full rotation of the seasons. The idea of living for so long was utterly bizarre.

"I'm gathering that they breed so much slower than humans," Anton said, "Otherwise they would have covered the whole world by now."

All three gods nodded.

"Every couple hundred years they can have a child." Esperit explained. "The signs that a woman is about to ovulate is watched very closely by the community."

"From what I know the..." Stratos looked sheepishly at them, "Act of union is essentially done infront of the priestess. To ensure that there is the best chance of impregnation. That is why they are so highly regarded in their society, as harbingers of the next generation. That's probably why Nithroel copies them, or maybe it's the other way around."

"Wow." Anton coughed as he answered. "That sounds a little odd."

Stratos shrugged.

"They have a very poor change of getting pregnant anyway. Maybe a new child ever thousand years or so. They really need all the help they can get."

"So do they even have sex during the other.... hundred or so years?" Verona was exasperated.

To think about going for so long without some level of intimacy.

"Not like you two." Stratos smiled as Verona flushed slightly. "But... It depends. Some couples really don't while others do. I think they just have different desires to humans, beast kin... And the other elves."

"I might as well ask this know while I have the chance, but I was told there are Dark elves, Desert elves and that there were Fire elves."

Esperit flinched at their mention.

"The others lived for maybe a thousand or so years, but the Fire Elves...they.... They lived about the same length of time as a human or beast-kin. About seventy or eighty years." Esperit explained.

"I was told they were..."

Esperit nodded, her face was full of sadness.

"There used to be over a million of them living peacefully alongside a human kingdom far to the west. Now there are only monsters living there, past the Qaiviel Kingdom. Nithroel got it in her head that all Elves belonged to her, so she sent her followers to force the Fire Elves to reject me and join her. They didn't. They preferred the human and dwarven cities to the Wood Elves and their lives in the tress. And for their defiance against her they were killed. The humans tried their best but could not stand against the beasts and elves she unleashed. They died too. Not even ruins remain."

She bit down on her lower lip as she shook her head.

"Ever since that day I have been waiting for a chance to strike back at her. Forgive me for being rude, but that was why I gave you my glyph and power."

I guess that explains you a bit, but not Stratos. What did she do to you?

Stratos gave no indication that he was going to answer.

"Your power has come in handy many times Esperit.” Anton said, “Soon I'll see about getting shrines devoted to you three and hopefully some new mages even."

She smiled warmly. He looked up at Verona, she was not going to have a go at him now. Verona sighed loudly and shook her head in disbelief.

"What is her problem?" Verona asked.

"That's a very good question." Esperit replied. "But do not be fooled by how she dresses or how she acts on the surface. Many have underestimated her and paid the price. I did, and it nearly cost me everything. If your partner had not gotten angry at her and forced Jira to ask, she would have left without performing the Sacrament of Binding and she would send everything thing she could at you. Many more than just a few thousand Kobolds."

"Considering that we were effectively bent over a barrel with our pants down, I think we came out of it very well." Anton said.

There was something niggling at the back of his mind.

"Why even agree to this meeting then? She must have known that Atros could not hold out against a full elven army, or even a horde of beasts."

"Her armies... Are not fighting as well as she would want you to think." Tethra started to cough violently but it subsided very quickly. Stratos rubbed her back to see if she was alright, Anton could see his hands rise and fall as they moved over the chains.

"Tethra is correct though." Esperit began. "It was a good thing that you only brought up that they were fighting them, not how well they were doing. We can see them and quite frankly.... They are terrible. Especially the 'Heroes' from your world. They are a complete joke."

"They can't be that bad."

"You have killed more than they have." Esperit shrugged.

"Those were just Goblins."

"And Kobolds." Verona chimed in.

"But," Stratos began, "You have virtually no resources or people. You've had to go and buy them from a neighbour."

"Well...true, we did. But still..."

"They just don't seem to be coping well." Esperit said, crossing her arms.

"Does Nithroel allow you to see them? Can we see them?" Anton asked.

He had no news about the others since arriving, the good and the bad ones. It would be good to know.

Stratos shook his head.

"Not yet. But soon. Your body is still adjusting to the vast supply of mana you posses. Besides, you've used quite a bit keeping both of you in this dream world. We should not stay too much longer anyway, for your sake."

"But back to the original topic, why agree to the meeting?"

"The south..." Thethra coughed out.

"Is a Wood Elven kingdom." Esperit continued. "It's a vassal state that is providing Nithroel with quite a large portion of her forces. Now, she failed in her attack thanks to Verona."

Verona smiled a little bitterly. The reason she had done so well was because of her blood power, one which she was still apprehensive about.

"Now that her first attack failed, she would need to bring her Wood Elves out of the forest and into the grasslands to attack you.” Esperit said. “That would negate all of their advantages of fighting in the shadows and twisting disorientation of their forests. She would loose hundreds, if not thousands, of her Wood Elves just to breach the walls.”

Stratos chuckled.

“And you could just kill thousands on your own with your magic.”

"Even more with that beast-kin of yours that'll be able to smell and track them better than any human could. She's quite talented."

Esperit looked to Tethra.

"That was something that I was not expecting." Esperit said with a chuckle.

I guess you guys don't tell each-other everything. Though in Tethra's case that might be a little hard.

"Anyway, it would tie up forces that could be better used elsewhere and it would take an inordinate time to recover. The demons do not have such worries about replenishing their forces. So I'm guessing that's why."

"She did not seem all that concerned when Jira mentioned all those Kobolds getting killed." Verona said. "More of those creatures could still attack us."

“Exactly why you must not delay in anything you do.” Stratos said. “She will not take this well and will move against you.”

“Despite those Kobolds, and quite a few other beastly creatures, worship her like fanatics, she has complete and utter disdain for them." Esperit continued.

"There was not even one mention of how many died from her," Stratos continued. "They are just tools for her to use, she really doesn't care how many die. Compared to the Wood Elves they breed so much more quickly, even than humans."

"That's pretty terrible for them." Anton said. None could disagree.

"Those totems that she had," Verona shuffled to face his gods. "Do they stop you from seeing there?"

Stratos waved his hand in uncertainty.

"Sort of. It makes it harder for a hostile or enemy god to see there. And we are definitely not friends."

“Can you see what's in the south?” Anton asked. “Is there something there that Nithroel wants, or doesn't want us to find?”

Stratos shook his head.

“Not that we can see. There seems to be some sort of haze over the whole region, just as if she had totems covering the area.”

Anton frowned. He did not like that she had already started to conceal the whole area.

“All we can see are ruins of the cities and forts of the old Kar Kingdom,” Stratos continued. “Most of those seem to be infested with Goblins and other monsters, the lands in-between are home to a myriad of beasts...I'm not really sure why she wants such a wild and untamed land.”

“Maybe something was left there by the old kingdom?” Verona offered.

Esperit and Stratos nodded.

“It is a good possibility.” Esperit said. “Unfortunately, we cannot see and you cannot go there without risking annihilation.”

Anton nodded.

"So if we were to build totems to the four of you-"

"Three." Verona cut in.

Anton consoled her as warmly as he could, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Despite how she treated you, we should at least try and show that we are trying to work together. She did give us some hints, even though it was covered in barbs. Jira might change her tune if we try to rectify whatever slight she thinks we have made against her.”

Verona frowned deeply before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Okay. I'll try. But if she treats me like before I'm never going to help her."

"Did she say something bad to you?" Stratos asked.

"Yeah. She said some quite nasty things."

Stratos chuckled.

"That's standard for her. She treats everyone badly."

"Even those that have her mark?" Anton asked.

Esperit nodded.

"She's always been like that. Don't take it personally."

"Kind of hard not to." Verona said in a huff.

"But if we did make something like that... Would it stop Nithroel from watching us?"

"It would make it difficult for her to see. There are other ways for her to see, like if someone tells her." Stratos stroked his chin, "But it may make her think that you are up to something."

"She can if she wishes.” Anton said. “She is. I don't think she's actually going to follow through with that thing she agreed to. Not for long at least. None of us glowed or whatever. She'll probably have one of the Kobold groups stray into the border of our territory and say it was an unprovoked attack, rendering the treaty null. I don't know, but I'm sure she'll try something. One way or another."

Verona tilted her head.

"The Capital, Surdon, is quite far away. About two or three days away from Atros. There would need to be a lot more people in Atros before we expanded that far, not to mention that we have had to dealt with the goblins first. Not that she's going to help with that."

“The longer that she waits, the more people we can get and we'll continue to get stronger.” Anton mumbled added.

“We'll need to work even harder with the kingdoms and empires around us, won't we?” Verona asked sadly.

She was probably looking forward to spending some time together relaxing with him, not having to worry about having to explore. He was getting annoyed that he could not spend some time with her as well. Time without fighting or having to worry. He sighed and held her hands firmly, getting a smile in return.

"I think this whole thing has been a cautious success." Stratos said happily. "Please do not go out of your way to try and break the treaty early."

“Or at all.” Esperit quickly added.

"We won't." Anton and Verona said, again, in unison.

"We'll let you get back to sleep then." Esperit said as she stood up along with Stratos. Tethra remained seated.

"Thank you for your help." Anton said with a bow of his head.

"We all expect great things from you."

Esperit and Stratos gave a final nod before rings appeared beneath their feet. Esperit was consumed by fire and disappeared while Stratos disappeared in a blast of lightning.

That left Tethra sitting alone, with three empty seats between them. With some difficulty she stood up and walked to Verona's seat. No one spoke as she sat down with a groan.

"Do... Do you know what it is like to be... Impotent?" she asked in a croaky voice.

"No." Anton replied truthfully.

He was not going to pretend that he knew or could relate to anything that she had gone through all those years.

"I am the goddess of Prayer.... And for so long I have been only able to hear their cries and screams... Unable to do anything. Until now. Until you."

"You were the one that Kal talked about." Verona said in a soft voice.

"The one that she said she prayed to on a stormy night. And for the first time, you answered." Anton added.

Tethra lowered her head.

"I do not... Discriminate between humans and beast-kin. I had no idea if you would be the same. I'm glad that it's going well for her after so, so long. Spending nearly every waking moment fearing for her life, always on the move, hungry, cold and alone. Never able to trust anyone."

She coughed but quickly recovered.

"Her tears at night are like knives through my heart."

"Are? Not were?" Anton asked.

Tethra shrugged lightly.

"I am glad that she found the both of you... And that you, and you, Verona, are... Accepting of what she is. She deserves some happiness."

“I hope that we can actually do that.” Anton said. “I'm guessing that she has been through some things that nobody in Atros would wish upon the worst people. I hope she can be happy here with us.”

"She is a nice and kind person, even after all that she has been through. She will find happiness here. Of that I am sure." Verona smiled.

She looked up over his head with a peculiar look on her face. It screamed that she was planning something. A moment later it was gone as she looked back at him and smiled. She made no attempt to say what just happened, nor did Anton push.

"Thank you Tethra, for everything and everyone. I hope that we have been a help to you as well.

She nodded.

"I am much stronger, stronger every day. Next year I may even be able to remove... The chains on my face.... If everything goes well."

Anton shuffled around so he faced her, he could feel some apprehension build within her.

"What did Nithroel do to you. I mean, really, what did she do to you?"

Out the corner of his eye Verona nodded as well. Tethra lowered her head.

“Long...Long ago we were friends. Well, rather, we didn't have much to do with each-other. However, she...didn't like that I was helping the humans and beast-kin grow in strength, so much faster than her own Wood Elves and beasts. In a few centuries they would have eclipsed her followers. Some of my best disciples also helped the Fire Elves attempting to escape but they were all cut down. I think that's when it all started to...devolve into open warfare. I...tried to talk her down but she would not listen. So, she destroyed nearly everything I had and made me have to retreat into this...form.”

She reached out and held his shoulder.

“She is quite petty and vicious. Don't do anything to upset her.”

Tethra was silent and gave no further indication that she would say anything more on the subject.

That seems a little bit vague to try and destroy you. But, from what I understood from meeting Nithroel, I don't know if she would go so far just...because of what you said. She was very quick to not have us as an enemy once it became clear she could not destroy us immediately.

Does it have to do with whatever the reason is why we aren't allowed to go past the old capital? Did the old kingdom find something there, or build something, under you three's instructions? I have no idea...It all sounds very vague....There's too little information for me to work on.

Nithroel went through quite a bit of effort to do what she did to all of you, especially since it takes so long for the Wood Elves to replenish. Whatever it was, it cost you nearly everything. And the same thing can be said about Esperit and Statos...

I don't know what to make of what Esperit told me for her reasoning, and Stratos didn't even offer one. But I'm guessing that you're not going to tell me any more.

Are we... Could we be working for the bad guys here? I certainly hope not.

Verona glanced at him, she looked just as unconvinced as he was.

There was nothing he could do to verify it without upsetting his gods, gods that he needed for his power. Perhaps it was just Nithroel getting underneath his skin and making him paranoid.

No. I don't think we are...I hope. But, I'll need their strength for quite some time, so I'll still need to keep a good relation with them for now. At least. I just hope that we are on the right side...not that I've actually given it much thought before.

The thought lingered no matter how hard he pushed it away.

"I will Tethra. May things get better from here on. I hope that you don't have to wear those chains for much longer."

Tethra nodded as his eyes became heavy and closed.

-------------

Hello again.

So, Verona joined Anton with meeting the gods. Jira, Verona's god, is still very annoyed at her but is willing to forgive her. I wanted to give her more of an annoyed and playful personality than just a spiteful one.

Anton's gods are the same, but Nithroel is a piece of work. First itterations of her were far more crude, but I still wanted to show that the complicated nature of who they are going up against. As was stated, she was extremely quick to form a peace deal with Anton despite her overwhelming power, so she's got some serious problems of her own. Also shows that the gods can be petty towards eachother, in this case their appearance. Her time in this chapter may have been a little short but she will be returning soon.

It's also pretty clear that something's going on in the southern half of the old Kar Kingdom. That is locked off though to Anton and Co., so it'll be some time before we get there. Also got an unknown number of goblins in the remains of the cities and the old capital for them to go through as well.

Also not ready to meet the other heroes just yet. Will be doing that at the end of this 'arc', if all things go well. I still need to finalise their personallities, beyond what little was done in the first chapter.

The final bit was a question about being on the 'right' side. Especially since that his gods are so evassive and vauge about their reasons for their hostility with Nithroel. Esperits is a little vauge, Stratos bailed as soon as he could, and Tethra's links into Esperits but seems rather vauge too. He cannot ask Nithroel for the truth, and his own are doubtful if they would say anything other than what they have already said. It means that to find out he's going to have to talk to a neutral god or find some sort of written record to find out the truth, both of which are extremely difficult for him to get at the moment.

So, that's this chapter.

Next two chapters are done but still need editing work, both for this site and just generally. No idea when those will be done.

As I have quite a few chapters, having some cover-art is well overdue. However, I have no idea as to where to look. If someone could help me in that regard I would be extremely greatful.

Thanks for reading, thanks for any and all donations.

Chapter 040 - Planning for the Future

Chapter 040:

A familiar, and yet nearly forgotten, weight lay heavily on Anton's arm as he awoke from the god's dream. The golden light of the early morning shone through the wooden slats, that worked as windows for the bedroom, lightly gracing his face and his surroundings. At least he knew that he was back in the real world.

The weight shifted again, moving closer towards him. He looked down and saw the dishevelled hair of Verona's head lying just below his own. It was their first full night together after quite some time apart. He moved his arm, wrapped around her waist and onto her taught stomach. Every part of her was so soft and delicate underneath his fingers, her body twitched as he ran his fingers slowly over the outlines of her muscles. And her marks.

Jira had been an interesting meeting for her. It caused her quite a bit of pain, but there might have been a few hints thrown into her vitriol to Verona. He sighed, knowing that he could do very little to remove the pain that it caused her. He lent forward and kissed her on the head. The sensation started to awaken Verona. As before she mewled as she stretched her limbs out, nearly hitting him in the head. This was her new morning ritual. Her hands seeked out his head before patting his beard gently.

Verona mumbled something as she awoke fully. Her tried eyes, still fuzzy and out of focus, opened and looked up at him. A smile grew on her soft pink lips as she hauled herself up and next to him. She sat on her knees, allowing the fur covers to roll of her body and expose her body to the sunlight. No matter how many times he saw or felt it he knew that he would never loose interest. Her giant breasts, still white and untarnished underneath the red tribal marks, heaved with every sleepy breath.

Sometimes his mind wandered, and wondered what her mother had looked like for Verona to be this way. According to what he had managed to get out of the other villagers, she had been quite the woman.

Thankfully she could not hear his thoughts as she brought up both hands and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. Anton still had his hand around her waist, pulled her closer along with a cute mewl that escaped her lips. Sitting on her knees seemed to be to uncomfortable so she moved to her hip, she made no attempt to cover herself. They already knew how each-other looked and felt to be worried about exposing themselves.

"Good morning." she said, stifling a yawn as she stretched out her arms and let them flop onto the bed. "That... That night really happened, didn't it?"

It was not worry on her face, rather she was seeking assurance that she was not mad.

"You know, with my crazy and scary god, your nice and kind ones, and that red headed one that planted her tits on my head as she lent over to talk to you, and that weirdly mean spirited elven bitch. The one dressed like a whore?"

Anton brought his free hand and scratched his head and beard. He needed to do something about that and soon.

"I suppose when you put them like that, yes. Yes it did happen."

Verona breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good, otherwise I thought I had completely lost my mind."

She chuckled as she pulled him up for a deep kiss. When they finally parted she was flustered but also concerned. A hand traced over the marks on her chest.

"My... Urges. Do you think I can control them?"

Anton nodded, taking both her hands and entwining them with his own.

"Yes, I think we can. We will find a way no matter what. I promised that we would in the dream world and I mean it now."

Verona smiled warmly again.

"Jira... She said something about me needing to properly control and understand my power. What... What do you think that means?"

Anton slumped his shoulders a little and looked up at the wooden ceiling.

What does that actually mean? At the time I was more worried about Nithroel. Usually it means some sort of soul searching, perhaps? Like why she actually chose it...maybe.

"You have something?" she asked.

Her face was very close as she raised herself up and almost onto him. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath.

"Back on Earth, there were some stories about this, when someone would get an incredible power."

He rubbed the small of her back, where the glyph mark lay, to which she let a seductive moan.

"But I think in this case it will have something to do with what you were thinking when you got it."

"But that was my-

"Yeah it was your subconscious."

Anton scratched his head.

"So that means that you really wouldn't know."

Verona looked down, dejected.

"When I had the god's dream, after the battle with the Yellow Goblins, I met Jira. Along with my other gods. She was a little bit dismissive but nothing like what she was with you."

Verona looked up at him.

"So she did not call me a cunt and then act all fake and nice the next moment?"

Anton chuckled as he rubbed her head, she did not find it funny.

"She was a little annoyed with you then. She said that you were looking for power... A way to fight alongside me as an equal."

Verona flushed vividly and turned her head away. It was so cute to see her so embarrassed. If they had time later he wanted to see it even more.

"She mentioned that she could do that, provide a way for you to protect me. And then something happened."

Verona, still flushing, looked oddly at him. She titled her head and opened her mouth to speak but did not. The question was obvious.

"She said it was something like your subconscious lept at her and started to strangle her, even though she is a god and that should not be possible. When she accepted, and gave you as much of her power as your subconscious demanded, you relented."

Verona looked a little scared. At herself.

"Apparently she was a little scared by what happened. So I think that's why she's still a little cross at you."

Verona mumbled something, it sounded like an insult, but Anton did not hear. He was remembering what also happened in that dream. Jira seemed a little bit cross with him when the first met. She was sure that he had something to do with Verona ripping power from her. That all stopped when she had seen the crystal embedded in his hand. Her whole demeanour changed, then she seemed perplexed and confused at his own gods. They had not said what the crystal actually did, but he was sure that Jira knew something. He had forgotten to ask then as well as the last time.

He had not asked, as the dream ended soon after, and there were more important things to worry about this time. This time it was more important to deal with Nithroel. It was starting to worry him, like a lump that refused to go away. He would ask them the next time he saw them. Though, that may not be for a long time. He could only hope that it was not something terrible eating away at his mind and body.

Something poked his cheeks hard. He looked at the source, Verona had a troubled frowning face.

"You did that looking off into the distance thing again."

Her face almost formed into a pout as she lent closer.

"I don't like that. It makes me worry when you do that. It's never something good..."

He answered with a kiss, deep and long. When they parted Verona seemed satisfied with his response.

"Okay." she wiped away the thin strand that connected their lips. "So, I need to make amends to Jira? For something that my subconscious did?"

"I... I don't think so. Every time you use your magic, and possibly when you kill something with it, the gods get some power from that. With how many Kobolds that you killed I think she would have gotten quite a bit. Hopefully it shouldn't be too many more."

"That whole things about the gods getting power from us... It all sounds a bit vague."

"It is. I don't really understand any of it myself, but Tethra was on deaths door when I first met her. She could not even speak properly and walking seemed to take a great effort. Now she can say speak whole sentences without having too much of a coughing fit. And it seems to be from me using my prayer power. You know, for healing and that thing where I made our eyesight better and also my hearing...I'll need to look into that later."

"So, what then? Since I'm guessing that Jira's not going to make it any easier for me..."

Anton shrugged lightly. "Perhaps is has something to do with the feeling of controlling every part of your power. It may be one of those things about learning self control."

Verona huffed and turned away.

"I have great self control!"

He chuckled as he gave her another kiss. She pouted when they parted.

"Fine," she mumbled as she tried to hide her flush, "Any ideas on how to do that?"

"It would involve using your power quite a bit. And exploring it..."

Verona scrunched her face up.

"There's really no other way... Is there? I can't feel anything right now when I'm not using it. If I start-"

"Hold on a second." Anton cut her off.

She tilted her head in confusion.

"I really don't think we should be doing this in our bed and house. Just in case something happens."

Verona opened her mouth but then closed it shut. "Right. That's not a good idea, not right here."

"Also, not when we are both naked."

Verona looked down and laughed.

"Yeah... That would be pretty frightening for the enemy, wouldn't it?"

Verona gave his leg a pat as she hopped off the bed. She bent over, revealing a very shapely behind, as she picked up their scattered clothes.

"You know, having all our bits bouncing all over the place."

"I can guess what that would mean, Ver."

She smiled as she handed him his pants and shirt.

"I'm pretty sure there were ancient warriors, on my old world, that used to fight like that."

"Sounds odd."

Anton put on his shirt and pants while Verona was still searching for hers.

"I think it makes them much harder to grab hold of; your hands would just slip off if they tried to grab you, and weapons would not get caught in clothing or armour. As well as terrifying the enemy."

"You really said it like that? Harder?"

She looked back as she put on her shirt, her face a wild and cheeky grin. He knew exactly what she was implying. Both their faces heated up in response.

"I don't think I should practice with my blood power in the training fields, too many people. Same with the central plaza..."

Verona turned around and picked her chest piece and handed it to Anton.

"It's still easier if you help me."

He put the armour over her head and began to fasten up the clips.

"You could do it in one of the abandoned barns?"

Verona shook her head.

"They've all been filled with something useful. Food, wood, coal and other supplies. There isn't one spare. I think that we're going to need to build some more."

Anton was genuinely surprised. He had not asked about that specific situation of supplies and goods when he returned, there were far more pressing matters.

"Haven't you all been busy... Before the Kobolds at least."

Verona laughed, mainly because Anton's fingers started to tickle her sides as he neared the end of the fastening.

"We did quite well in everything. All things considering."

Anton gave one final pull on the clips to make sure they would not come undone. Her picked up the other pieces of armour, but Verona took them off him. Those she wanted to do herself.

"Perhaps the east of the village." Anton suggested. "Not much has happened there. Not so much a private place, but you should be able to do it out in the fresh air and it'll be away from anything important. I'll make sure that nobody bothers you while you're trying to concentrate."

Verona paused before nodding with a smile.

"Okay. But first we need to attend the council meeting, let them know about the treaty with Nithroel and what those terms mean."

"Excellent idea. It'll give me a chance to catch up on what people have been up to in a lot more detail. I'll also be able to see how Jonathan is going with my project now that he has the explosive powder."

Verona gave one final bump on her pieces of armour. Satisfied they were not going to fall off she turned to the door.

"Are you okay going out like that?" Anton asked, pointing to her arms.

She was wearing a long sleeved shirt, which left the snaking red marks on her hands exposed. The same could be said of her neck.

"I... Um. Hang on."

She returned to her side of the bed and rummaged around underneath. Eventually she brought out a long piece of cloth, it looked quite soft for the material of the village. With a flick she wrapped it around her neck just like a scarf, covering most of her marks.

"I can cope with the ones on my hands, now, but the ones on my neck might be a little tough for others to see."

She turned to him, her face beaming in a smile as she bobbed her head either side.

"This is quite comfy. Besides, the way you acted last night, you seem to really like them."

He could not hold in his laughter.

"I do. I really do."

She laughed, dodging his attempt at bringing her in for a hug as she made for the door again.

"That was terrible. So, how do you think the former bondsmen liked the night here?" she asked, making sure that Anton had followed. "It's a little different than sleeping outside or how bad it was in Maxill."

"I hope they found it better than it was in Maxill. I'm a little worried about Kal."

Verona made it quickly to the front door before turning around.

"I just hope they remembered that she's not to be touched."

"They won't forget." Verona added. "Not unless they want a blast of fire and lightning through their heads."

She opened the door, the streams of a new days light poured in. She took a deep breath and walked outside. She waited until Anton was out before closing the door.

"First night, and morning, that I haven't had to wake up to Kobolds. At least it's not all blue."

He rubbed her hair vigorously.

"Where's your barrette and chain?" He asked.

Her face paled as she dived back into their house.

"Good morning." came a different voice, lighter than Verona's.

He turned away from the house and looked towards the road. This early, there were not many people out and about yet, apart from the occasional guard.

There was one figure walking towards him. Kal wore her usual cloth wrappings underneath a pair of pants and a shirt. Over that she wore her cloak and kept her hood up. Thankfully she was no longer wearing the face cloth she had been forced to for the past two weeks. On her back was the gifted bow and a half full quiver of arrows. He would need to make sure that she could get some more.

Seeing the tanned, sharp, and no longer haggard face brought a smile to his own. Her horizontal cat slit eyes locked onto him and she too broke into a rare smile. As she walked he did not miss the hilts of the two daggers on her hips, almost hidden by the cloak. She was hoping that she would not be attacked but still planned for the worst. A cautious and careful person despite her improving surroundings.

"Good morning Kal." He said as soon as she was close. "I hope that you had a pleasant night, nobody tried anything?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"Nothing. It was unbelievably good to sleep in a bed, undisturbed, for the whole night." she bowed her head lightly. "Thank you for escorting me back after dinner."

"It's what any man should do for a drunk lady."

Kal flushed, her ears moved underneath her hood as she tried to avert from his gaze.

"I... I wasn't that drunk." she spoke very softly. It seemed that she was very embarressed to let him see her in that state.

"You were having quite a bit of difficulty walking in a straight line. I think that qualifies as being drunk."

Kal pursed her lips as she desperately fought back the flush. It was something that he was not expecting to see of her. Anton found himself smiling as he remembered that sight.

"Did you drink when you were out in the wilderness?"

She seemed relieved to be on a slightly different topic.

"No." she said as she shook her head. "Only a very few times, when things were going there worst, and not that often. Alcohol dulls the senses and makes you an easier target."

"To be attacked or for someone to attack you?"

Kal bit onto her lower lip, all her canine teeth were on display.

"Both." If she answered. "I was never drunk but I could steal quite a bit from drunk people. They were very easy targets. Wandering alone outside the small villages."

"Is that where you got your clothes?"

Kal seemed a little embarrassed as she nodded.

"Sort of..."

"And the daggers?"

Her face darkened instantly, she seemed quite angry at him.

"No." came a swift and curt reply.

The warmth had gone from her face and body as she stared at him.

What are those daggers to you? You seem more concerned with me thinking you stole them rather than someone else holding them.

The way she continued to stare, with a deep and searching angry look, was rather unsettling. A few seconds later it was gone. Immediately after that she looked quite apologetic.

"I'm sorry that I implied that I thought that you stole those daggers." Anton said, cutting of a potential apology from Kal.

"Thanks. They are very important to me. I-"

"Sorry Anton!" Verona shouted as she burst through the door. "It took a while to get them on right."

Verona spun around, letting her hair fly about. On the back of her head was the metal chain, keeping her hair pulled back in a ponytail. On the front right of her head was the silver and red star barrette. Now, in the proper daylight, it looked even prettier on her. It was not much, in the way of jewellery, but the way she were it naturally and innocently took his breath away. She noticed this as well.

"I can't believe that I was about to head out without them on." She shook her head as she went in for a hug. "After all that you went through to get them."

He pulled her in for a hug, her body twisting so he was hugging her from behind. She opened her mouth to speak when she realised Kal was standing close by.

"Kal! I'm so sorry I did not say hello and was just talking like you weren't there. Hello! How are you?"

"Very good and well rested. Although..."

"Although...what?"

Kal looked quite sheepish, more so than he had seen before.

"I've been thinking about my place in Atros... And I really haven't found something that I could be useful for when we're not heading outside the village and into the wilderness."

"You're our friend, Kal." Verona said defiantly, as if that was enough for her.

Kal smiled as warmly as she could, taking a few paces closer.

"Thank you, but I was thinking of something more..."

She could not find the right words to describe how she felt. The feeling of free-loading and not having a clear way of contributing was never a good one, especially for someone like her.

"Actually," Anton began, "We were about to get a Council meeting underway to discuss some new events."

Kal looked confused, raising both her dark aqua eyebrows. The only time that their council had concerned her was when she arrived and they needed to decide what they were going to do with her, finally deciding to let her stay. Bringing that up, just after talking about not knowing how to help, was nothing but confusion for her. Anton saw this as well.

"There's not really an open spot right now, but since our numbers and needs have grown, I was going to see about setting up some more positions so that the goings on of the village could be better handled. Like bringing Raston on for relations with Maxill and the Qaiviel kingdom at large, as well as Dana as the same sort of position that Avery is, except for our mounted soldiers."

Kal still looked confused, so too did Verona as she bent her head backwards to look up at him.

"And also bringing someone on that know s about beast-kin."

It took Kal a few seconds to process what he had just said. Her eyes widened in shock, though her hidden tail started to move in delight.

"Me? But I'm just-"

"The perfect person for the position." Anton said, cutting her off. Verona understood and nodded deeply in agreement.

"While I know that it will take some time before we can get to Seocuria, through the Graterious Empire, and more beast-kin, I think it's important that we start now. To get the people and Atros itself as ready as possible to different types of people living here."

Kal was still utterly dumbfounded. Her mouth opened and shut, the only noise emanating were tiny squeaks. Verona turned to face him properly and pulled down on his shirt.

"The bondsmen might not like this. Having a beast-kin seemingly influencing decisions."

"Let them. One day there'll be more than one beast-kin living in Atros. Besides," He looked up at Kal, "Once you get to know them they are just as normal as everyone else."

There was a hint of pride, and embarrassment, to her face. Having responsibility, power and duty must still be an alien concept to her. Another tug on his shirt made him look down again.

"What's my position then?" Verona asked. "I don't have any of the skills or knowledge," she nodded to Kal, "That the others have."

He rubbed her head again, making sure to avoid knocking off the barrette.

"You... You are the finest, and first, mage soldier that Atros has to offer. Our elite commando."

Verona nodded lightly, she seemed very happy.

“You're going to have to tell me what that word means later.” she whispered to him.

"And, from what Sybil told me, was that you did an extremely good job at getting the council to work much better."

That brought a wild smile to her face.

"I'd like to think I did. Alright, let's go." Verona started to lead then away. "The rest of them will be getting up pretty early for this first meeting. Everyone was so tired they didn't even go to the celebration. I wonder if we're going to have a proper one tonight? Anyway, we just need to get someone to let Dana and Raston know."

She turned around and kept walking backwards, a few paces away.

"Do you think they are living in the same house yet?"

"I don't know. After the Yellow Goblin incident I think she was going to live with her brother. I don't know how well he would like them both living underneath the same roof."

Verona snapped her fingers at him.

"That reminds me, we going to have a fourth person to add to the council."

Verona smiled wildly and chuckled but said nothing more. Quickly the smile turned to a frown and to a look of horror. He was about to ask when she ran back towards their house, not saying a word. Kal looked on confused but shrugged as she turned to Anton.

"Any idea who this fourth person is?"

Verona had reached their house and nearly ripped the door off to get inside.

"Honestly, no. I don't know who or what it could be. I'm sure that she'll explain it later."

Verona emerged a few seconds later with her red crystal tipped spear in her hand. She ran back towards them, her face full of embarrassment.

"First day you're back and I'm already forgetting things. Important things, like my gifts and my weapon."

She laughed as she took the lead again.

---[]---

The council had gathered and the new people were about to be informed on their upcoming positions. However, the first person on the list was already having second thoughts about their new appointment.

"Is this really necessary?" Raston asked.

"I thought we had already agreed on this, while we were still in the forest." Anton said.

Raston could not deny it but remained quite flustered at the council table.

Verona had told him that the last meeting they had, before the Kobolds had first attacked, was done outside. So they could enjoy the fresh air and sunlight. Anton did not have anything against it in principle, but they had returned to doing it inside the Main Hall now that he had returned. Apparently the going's on of the outside could get rather distracting. Now there were some potentially sensitive details that needed to be discussed.

Raston sat at one of the four new chairs provided on the council table. Everyone sat in seemingly random places but Verona had made sure to get a seat next to him. Strangely Kal wound up on the seat on the other side of Anton, so now he was stuck between the two girls. Beside Kal sat Dana, who, while not friendly to many people, seemed to treat Kal with some great deal of respect. Beyond her was the still flustering Raston, and beyond that was an empty chair for Verona's mysterious fourth person who had yet to arrive.

"Now that I've had some time to think about it and...I'm not so sure." Raston said as he scratched his head. "I'm not too keen on going through that forest again."

"So the Duchess is not a problem?" Anton asked.

Raston chuckled nervously. "Not compared to being eaten by wolves, no."

"You were attacked by wolves?" Sybil asked.

During their brief reunitement, after having dealt with the Kobolds, he did not explain what had happened on the trip to and from Maxill. He was far more concerned about what exactly happened at Atros. After the items were dealt with satisfactorily he would have to explain. The Orcs, and their disappearance, would be of great interest, especially since what he did to the thralls.

"Yes. But Kal managed to find them first, so we were able to fend them off with no casualties. Some light injuries, but nothing serious."

He was not going to embarrass Kal by saying she had a tooth lodged in her foot and decided not to tell anyone for fear of exposure of her skin. A quick glance revealed that she was thinking this as well.

"As I said, you will have the best weapons and armour we can afford to spare."

Raston took another deep breath but looked somewhat unconvinced. He was, very much so, pressured into saying yes, and that was before they knew about the Kobold attacks on Atros. Perhaps he did not want to leave now.

"Raston, it will be fine." Dana said in a cool voice. "If he says you will be safe then I am going to believe him."

"I really don't want to leave here-"

"Anton can't be the one going each time." Dana spoke further. "So he needs someone that we can all trust."

The last few words were uncharacteristically light and sweet for Dana. Anton had secretly wondered if Dana and Avery were related in some way. There was a tug on his sleeve, from Verona. She gave him an odd look, quite mischievous, as she looked towards them again. It appeared the sweet words of his girlfriend did the trick. He relaxed and nodded towards Anton.

"Alright. But I want a day or so to myself at both ends of the journey."

"What?" Dana asked, her voice was even colder than normal.

That's right. Back in Maxill, Isobell slapped you on the butt right infront of her and she was not impressed. Maybe that's what spurned Dana into action, knowing that there was someone else after him. Who really knows...

"I'll need some time to relax after the journey."

"Fine. Do whatever."

Dana looked thoroughly disinterested in him. Anton hoped that she was just pouting, though Raston appeared to be taking it seriously.

"Wow." Verona mumbled, quiet enough that only Anton could hear it.

"I... I'll make sure that I'll turn around from Maxill as soon as I'm done." Raston half pleaded.

"Good." Dana said, looking pleased with herself.

"Wow." Verona said again, louder this time.

Loud enough for the others to hear. They all looked at her. She seemed to be a little uncomfortable with the attention but held her ground.

"It would not be that long." Verona told Dana. "Anton was away for nearly thirty days but I managed."

There was a snigger from Sam, Verona closed her eyes and fought off a rising flush. Sam had managed to extract details about their sex life while he was away. Verona had relented to make the questions stop, though the whole episode was rather embarrassing. Especially after Sam had started offering advice and what she should do.

"Are you sure-"

"Don't." Verona cut Sam off, raising a hand towards her.

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan asked.

Both his children were not present. Anton reminded himself that he would need to talk with Jonathan about the hand cannon project later.

"They're together now." Verona answered, Sam nodding as well. “A couple.”

"I..." was all that Dana could say before she buried her head in her hands to avoid her flush.

Anton thought it was cute, the way she behaved, although being in a consenting relationship was nothing to be ashamed about. It was not as if that they had just been discussing their private lives. A quick glance at Sam gave Anton a worrying thought. She would find out what they were up to, one way or another.

"It's fine you two." Anton stepped in amongst the chuckles of the others. "Nobody is judging you. They're just having a little laugh is all."

Seeing someone like Dana embarrassed to such a state was a a little funny, but they still needed to continue.

"We'll figure out a proper arrangement for you for your travels. Just remember to not cause an incident."

Raston nodded. He tried to calm Dana down but it seemed to make things worse. She started to relax on her own as Anton turned his attention to her.

"Jeff?" Anton asked, turning to him.

Jeff coughed and looked towards Dana.

"Dana..." He waited until she had calmed down completely before continuing. "You have displayed great skill in using and leading the mounted soldiers of our burgeoning army."

Dana no longer flushed but was rather confused. Unlike Raston, she had no real idea as to why she was here.

"As those who can ride horses look up to you, we've decided that you will be in charge of our horses and their riders. Our mounted soldiers, such as they are right now."

"I'm sure I'm not exactly the best person for that."

"From what I have seen, the other riders respect you and follow your commands. That is more than enough for you to take this position."

"I... I will." she said with a slight bow to her head. "I will be do my best."

"Excellent." Anton replied, Jeff seemed to share his enthusiam.

Now Anton was about to move onto the third person, one he hoped would not cause strife. Kal, so far, had not been questioned as to why she was present at the meeting. He hoped it was not just because she came in with him.

"Now, Kal."

Kal tensed at the mention of her name.

"One day I would like to see many more beast-kin, besides you, living and working in Atros."

He stopped, glad to hear no signs of discontent.

"I realise that it will be be some time before that happens, but I think it's important that we begin now. Getting everyone and everything ready. I do not know if certain... Types of beast-kin have different needs, but I would like to have you to represent them on this council."

He knew it was a little long winded and not the most eloquent way of putting it, but when he looked over it appeared to have come over well. Her ears were pricked up in happiness and her tail, that only he could see from his position, was trying to burst free. She was extremely happy, even though everything she had experienced was keeping her from fully expressing her joy.

"Thank you...Anton." she said, the long pause before his name was odd but now was certainly not the time to bring it up. "I will do my best to repay the trust you continue to put in me."

She smiled, warm and genuine. Something that, until a few months ago, must have seen like an impossibility to her.

"Since you would want to know, most beast-kin have the same needs as humans. There are a few different ones, like the lamia’s. Or I should say, were. But mostly-"

"What are they?" Verona asked.

"Like centaurs but with a very long snake half instead of a horse."

Everyone, except Anton, looked bewildered by what she had said. Whatever the reason it caused Kal to shrink away and begin to fold her body in.

"Do you know what a centaur is?" Anton asked, coming to Kal's aid.

He got shakes of heads in response. Even Bertram and Sybil did not seem to know properly.

"I know a bit but I don't know everything." Bertram said, as if he could read Anton's look.

"Well," Anton began, "Imagine you cut a horses head off at the shoulders..."

Dana looked horrified, while the others were still confused.

"And if you put someone, from the hips up, onto that, that would roughly what a centaur is like."

"Oh. Okay." Jeff said first. "So they can move really fast but still use their hands like we do?"

"Basically." Anton replied, looking at the recovered Kal, "And one of those lamia is...?"

"Right. Instead of the horse half it's a snakes..."

Kal looked around until her eyes settled on Zac. He had been quiet so far but started to look bemused as all the attention became fixed on him.

"So about the same amount as... Zac?"

Zac frowned as he looked down at his stomach.

Anton did not want an incident so soon.

"I think she is saying that if you were to be the lower half of a lamia, it would take the same amount of body...mass as you? I'm guessing?"

Zac frowned, at him then at Kal.

"You could have said it better." He grumbled at Kal.

"I'm sorry." Kal bowed her head. "If you haven't seen one they can be a little hard to describe. The tail is such a large part of their body. Not that I've actually seen one."

Oh dear.

There were some frowns from the other council members. They understood Kal's foreshadowing.

"Anyway, it's quite long and they use it to move about, just like a snake does. So they would need a bit more room and a few other things to live comfortably. I'm pretty sure that they were meant to have problems staying warm."

"You said you haven't actually seen one?" Anton left his question hanging.

Kal nodded and looked very sad as she picked at the ends of her fingers.

"My mothers older friend told her what happened. The lamia breed were a large investment in food to maintain. All their tail was muscle so they needed to eat quite a bit of meat compared to someone like me. My kind are much more thin but still able to do the work the Seocurians wanted done. The Lamia's also had a tendency to snap the necks of the slave owners with their tail while they weren't looking. So it was quite an effort just to use and kep them."

Because they cost so much you guys decided to get rid of them and get more 'efficient' breeds like Kal to take over?

"They had quite a few good 'traits', like tough skin and resilience. So... They bred those parts into a new type of beast-kin, the Cobras, and once they had all that they wanted..."

Kal wrapped her fingers on the table as she grimmaced.

"They got rid of them all."

"Bloody hell." Verona said.

"They wiped out an entire species? Just to improve their workforce a bit?" Anton asked.

Kal nodded.

"That... Um." Jeff tried to speak but could not find the words.

"If we do have some beast-kin settle here," Sybil began, "It would be good for them to know that something like that isn't going to happen here."

"Same here." Sam continued. "With someone like Kal here, who has already been for a while, if I were a beast-kin, I would feel a bit more safe."

Kal smiled, but Anton thought he could see something past it.

She is probably going to be treated quite badly by most of the full beast-kin, if Earth has anything to tell us about mixed ethnicities, as well as most of the humans. Still, it will be better than a full human speaking for the beast-kin. Otherwise it might feel like they never left Seocuria. Hopefully...

"Exactly." Anton began. "So Kal, welcome to your new position."

"Thank you again, Anton." Kal bowed her head quite deeply. "I won't let you down."

"With that done... Wait, Verona?"

"Hmm?"

"You said that there was to be a fourth person?"

"Ah yes. The new Marshall."

Verona looked very happy, looking over to Sybil who nodded at him. She turned her head up at him.

"Right before the Kobolds started to attack, I was talking with Sybil about... Um."

She looked rather sheepishly at Raston.

"The possibility that some of the new bondsmen might not have the same respect that you and the first 'batch' of former bondsmen do."

Raston frowned but nodded as well.

"I cannot speak for all of them. It is entirely possible that Duchess Belinda threw in a few more of the badly behaved people, not that they got up to anything on the journey."

"They were miles from home in a very dangerous forest. If they wanted to survive they would need to work together." Anton added. "Once they settle down however... Speaking of, has there been any trouble from them?"

He directed the question to Jeff and Avery, who both shook their head.

Verona coughed to get the attention back on her.

"Both of those things is why we need a Marshall."

"Both?"

"We can't just piling stuff onto Jeff for him to handle." Verona explained. "With the new bondsmen, there will be some that are going to become soldiers. So Jeff is going to need to focus on that. He can't just keep being called away to deal with someone being a thief or whatever."

Anton nodded.

"I agree. Does anyone have any ideas?"

"I've already got a name in mind." Sybil said, her wrinkled face turning into a smile. "They fit Verona's idea for the Marshall."

Anton looked down at her. She was beaming with pride.

"Someone that knows Atros, knows what disorder will do, and has a good reason to make sure they uphold the law."

"Sounds like a rare person. Are they just outside or...?"

Sybil shook her head.

"We really didn't have much time or energy when the Kobolds started to attack to check with them. And since you've been back we've been celebrating that we are still alive. After the council meeting is over we were going to check with them if they wanted the position."

"Who is it?" Raston asked.

Anton was curious himself. To find someone that they trusted enough for the position, he wanted to see who they found. Sybil smiled sweetly.

"We'll let you know once they agree. I don't want to put them in an awkward position if they disagree."

Anton could not argue with that.

"Am I right in thinking that there is more to this meeting than just getting more people to help?" Zac asked.

He kept his arms folded. Perhaps the earlier comment from Kal was still playing on his mind.

"Yes there is." Anton nodded. "Quite a few important things. The most important one being what happened last night."

There were some blank faces looking at him.

"About the Kobold attacks, and the goddess they worship, Nithroel."

Now there were frowns all around.

"That's the goddess that had her symbol on those totems, right? In the Kobold camp." Jeff asked.

"Yes." Anton replied. "When we were in the Kobold camp, after you had brought down the stone totems, I asked my gods if they could arrange some sort of meeting between our gods and Nithroel."

Anton put his glyphed hand onto the table. Verona looked a little uncomfortable, that was not a good night for her.

"I did not know if it had worked, so we carried on as usual. Then, when we were asleep, both Verona and I were dragged into a... Special dream, where we met our gods and Nithroel."

"What is your god like, Verona?" Sam asked. She was the one that helped Verona when her marks continued to grow. There was no malice in her voice, from her perspective she wanted to know what sort of god tried to mess with her friends mind.

"A bit of a bitch." Verona replied truthfully.

Anton chuckled, none of the others did.

"Her name is Jira. And she can be really nasty if you get on her bad side, like how she thinks of Verona. For now at least."

All looked in concern at her. Verona shrugged.

"After we see about the Marshall, we're going to the eastern side of Atros and going to try and figure it all out. My power is a little hard to control right now, but we've got some insight from Jira." Verona scratched her head. "I hope I can get it under control."

"We will." Anton said adamantly. "Jira was there as a mediator of sorts, so nobody did or said anything stupid. I'll skip the fine details of what was exactly said, but we have a treaty now between us."

"I still don't like the idea of us getting dragged into a war between your gods." Bertram said.

There appeared to be some agreement, not that Anton disagreed with the sentiment.

"Neither do I. But this is the reality that we are now faced with. Though now we probably don't have to worry about that."

"What does Nithroel look like?" Kal asked. "I only knew that she looked like a wood elf. Whatever they actually look like..."

Verona snorted, getting quite a few odd looks.

"She is a very rude and arrogant woman that dressed like a whore. I don't know what an elf looks like either, but I suppose she looks like one. Just a very bad one."

Everyone, especially Kal, was taken aback by her bluntness. Verona was less than impressed with Nithroel on their first meeting. So was Anton.

"She wore basically nothing." Verona continued. "A very slim, thin, dress with huge holes cut out to show off most of her body. Just about letting her giant breasts hang out for all of us to see. Not exactly what I would expect someone to dress up if they were going to a peace meeting to stop a war."

"We've got a very strange and nasty enemy then." Bertram mumbled.

"Well, as I said, we managed to get a treaty with her."

"How did you manage that?" Zac asked, unfolding his arms and resting them on the table. "If this god has all those Kobolds worshipping her..."

"There was something called the Sacrament of Binding, and Nithroel was coerced into performing it. Apparently every gods knows about it and there are harsh consequences for her breaking it."

"Which are?" Bertram asked.

"They were not exactly clear, but it was enough to make her back down. There were also other reasons as to why she actually agreed."

"I hope that it actually works...I like it here." Kal spoke softly.

She did not want to loose the only thing she could even remotely call a home, especially just after she had found it. Could she even return to the isolated life she led before after tasting this one? Anton had no idea. He did not want to find out either.

"Which brings us to the actual details of the treaty. Nithroel will not send any of her followers against us and we will not seek out and kill hers."

"Sounds simple enough." Jeff said with a grumble.

"Nithroel said that not all of her followers are... That intelligent. So there may still be some attacks and skirmishes from beasts that are not aligned with her, or at least they don't appear to be."

Jeff frowned deeply, pondering what that actually meant.

"So what you're saying is that we can still be attacked by her?"

Anton smiled bitterly.

"I'm afraid so, but it shouldn't be as many. It was the best I could do. I didn't want to piss her off."

Jeff's face, and quite a few others, said that they did not believe him.

"Nithroel knows that we could not survive a major attack-"

"That was not a major attack?" Jeff was exasperated.

Everyone else sharred his shocked expression. Anton nodded bitterly in agreement.

"I'm guessing that there are other beastial servants of Nithroel, much more powerful ones that could break the walls down in a few heartbeats. We were lucky that she did not send those in time. Or many more of the Kobolds that she has under her control."

They all looked quite frightened now.

"Nithroel knew that she had us in a position where we were about to get beaten. The fact that she conceded anything at all is nothing short of a miracle."

"So there's more things she wanted from us?" Bertram asked, looking as disturbed as his son.

"Yes-"

Loud groans emanated from all around him.

"But nowhere near as bad."

"Alright, let's hear them." Bertram said, the tiredness clear in his voice.

Anton did not know how old Bertram was, but he guessed he was in his late sixties or early seventies. He, and Sybil, had been living in fear for the past two weeks. They would not be able to bounce back as quickly as the rest.

"We now have a territory limit." Anton explained.

That raised a few confused looks.

"We have free range over all of the old Kar Kingdom territory, up until fifty miles past the old capital, Surdon. Then that forms a straight line to the sea. Everything north of that line is ours. Everything south is a no go area."

"Why does she want that?" Jeff frowned. "Does she want more space to breed up an army of beasts to attack us?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. Since we don't have a map..."

Bertram shook his head.

"There's really no way to tell." Anton shrugged unhappily. "I was not in a position to clarify why. I do, however, believe that there is something there that she wants or doesn't want us to get. Bertram, was there anything special on that side of the capital?"

Bertram looked up in thought. He slowly shook his head.

"Not that I know of. It was all some time ago. My memory isn't the best."

He's right. I can't just expect them to know everything. The Kar Kingdom fell about forty years ago. It was worth a try though.

"When I head over to Graterious I'll see about getting a map of the Kar Kingdom. See if there's anything of value either side of our new border. Find out why she was so desperate to make such a large buffer...Though it will take some considerable time before we can even take over the old capital and even possibly strike at the land beyond that."

"I take it she's not going to help us with clearing out the goblins either." Jeff said.

"I doubt Surdon is the only place that is infested with those things." Avery rapped his hands on the wooden table.

Verona shook her head while she pursed her lips.

"She made it quite clear to me that we are to fend for ourselves against everything that comes at us. Especially the goblins on our side of the barrier. If we take them on too early and get ourselves killed... Well, then it all worked out fine for her."

"Which brings us to the second point. Well third actually, we managed to avoid the second point."

"What was the second?" Bertram asked.

Anton held out his glyphed hand again, pointing to the white hands clasped in prayer.

"This is the mark of Tethra, the goddess of prayer. Every time I have healed someone I have used her power. She was also the same god that brought Kal here."

Kal looked a little embarrassed as she fidgeted and suppressed a smile.

"Nithroel wanted me to swear her off as part of the treaty. I refused from the beginning and never explained why, the reasoning being pretty obvious."

"If it were not for that, my legs would have rotted away." Jonathan said loudly, as if to answer the reasoning.

Anton remembered how they looked when he first arrived. Gangrenous and rotting. If he did not have that power he would have, at the very least, lost his legs. Quite possibly his life.

"Exactly." Anton continued. "Which is why I refused and Nithroel did not push it any further."

"Why would such a powerful god back down?" Kal asked, a sentiment shared by everyone else.

Anton did not have a proper answer. Nithroel could have used that as an excuse to void the newly formed treaty but did not. The more he thought about it the more uncomfortable and nervous he became. The more he felt like he knew nothing of what was happening beyond his current sphere of influence.

"I am not entirely sure. It has something to do with why she wants the southern half of the old kingdom I'm pretty sure. Perhaps not. But for now we need to just count our blessings that we are no longer at war."

That sentence threw up a lot of confused looks. They must have not heard such an expression before. He was about to explain when he remembered that three of the people in the room did not know that he was from another, entirely different, world. Instead he held his tongue. He did not miss the look that Kal gave him. He was sure that she was suspecting more and more that he had memories from before arriving at Atros. Unintentional slips, like that one he had just made, increased her scepticism. However, she seemed content with staying quiet for now. Dana and Raston made no such cues.

"So, anyway," Anton continued, "The third thing was a little odd. We must help the Wood Elves however we can."

"You said we cannot go that far south." Zac grumbled.

Anton nodded.

"Indeed. I clarified that part with her and that seemed to be acceptable."

"But," Verona began, "Anton made sure that it did not mean that we were going to be subservient, like we would be some sort of slave to them."

Kal's chair creaked as she moved forward to look at Verona. Verona caught her eye and flushed slightly from embarrassment.

"Sorry Kal, kind of the wrong word there."

Anton glanced at Kal. She did not seem angry, perhaps a little confused as to why Verona would use that word.

"But the meaning is still the same. When Anton asked if that meant we would do everything the Wood Elven told us to do."

Verona chuckled.

"You should have seen her face when she realised that we had guessed what she really wanted. We made it so our relation was one that is basically for defence."

"That sounds alright." Jeff said.

"So long as it means that we are safe from attacks from the beasts, I am fine with that." Bertram said, shaking his head. "I do not want to go through that again."

There were many murmurs of agreement and nods of heads. They seemed most pleased by hearing they would no longer be attacked. Verona tugged on his hand. He leant down so she could whisper in his ear.

"There was that stuff with the other... People that are like you." She spoke in the softest voice she could.

"Can't really talk about that now." Anton tried his best to convey his thoughts, which did seem to reach Verona.

"But also why they are here. Nithroel said they, and her elves, are fighting the Demons. Which means they have already arrived." she whispered back to him.

Anton nodded and tapped loudly on the table, bringing the attention back onto him.

"There is another, very important, piece of information that we gleamed from our talk with Nithroel."

The frowns and looks of worry returned.

"The Demons, the ones I saw in the dream the night after the Yellow Goblins were wiped out, have arrived."

"Already?" Jeff and Bertram said in unison.

"I am afraid so."

The older council members looked at Verona. In the first gods dream she had not been there, so there was only his word to go on. Now she had gone with him. She nodded, nobody liked to see that.

"Which means that, once again, we need to work even faster." Anton continued. "I don't know if we can beat them but we will give it all we've got. There is some good news in there though."

"What could that possibly be?" Bertram asked.

"They are nowhere near us."

That brought them some relief.

"She mentioned something about us having quite a few humans between us and the Demons, one of the reasons she was so dismissive of us. And I don't think that means there is just Qaiviel in the way. The way she said it, it sounded like there were quite a few in the way. It's a little grim to say it, but they would have to go through much more powerful kingdoms and Empires before they could get to us."

"That is good news, for us." Jeff said. "I guess. Though, it's a little bad for those in the way."

"After we are done here, Jonathan, I would like to see how the project is going. We have some powder so it is the perfect time to start experimenting."

Jonathan gave a quick nod. Anton was very curious to see how they would actually work.

"So, that's my pieces done. So, whomever wishes to go next..."

Jeff was the first to speak.

"Since Verona brought up the Marshall and potential order problems, I suppose I should say that there has not been any problems with the new... Former bondsmen. So far. None have said anything about Kal being present, at least out loud."

"Good to know that they are all settling in." Verona said. "And that they have not taken offence to a beast-kin living here."

Jeff nodded. It was a concern that Anton held. It had barely been a day so far. Things could change very quickly if they decided to take action against her. He just hopped it would not come to that.

"What about the more... Special ones?" Raston asked, Dana nodded as well.

"The stonemasons are doing very well." Zac answered. "They were not at the quarry for long and they have already made things quite a bit better for us. They said we did a decent job on the walls, but now they are going to make sure the stones fit better. It's going to make the wall, and anything else made from stone, slower to build but be a lot stronger."

"What about the books I got you?" Anton asked. "Have they been of some help?"

Zac slid down on his chair as he looked a little embarrassed.

"I... I can't read that well, lad. Before... This, I really didn't need to know how. Some of the younger stonemasons, I think they are the apprentices, helped me with some of the more difficult words. It has quite a bit of words on how to build tall buildings."

"Quite a few of the buildings on the inner side of Maxill are quite tall, compared to here. And the Duchess's mansion is even bigger, even though most of it looks like it was made from stone."

"The stonemasons are doing very well, and so are the miners to the north." Zac continued. "They've been a big help to us."

Anton raised his hands to stop him.

"Before we go any further, I would like to borrow one of your stonemasons later. I want them to make something special for me."

"Okay..."

Verona shuffled in her seat. She knew that he was talking about building the shrines.

I'll wait until they are done before explaining what they are for. It might be a little hard for people to actually pray at them... I don't know how I could convince them to take a few minutes out of their day to actually pray at the shrines. I can't exactly say that they will get rewarded... I'll have to think it out fully before announcing it.

"And the smiths? And their apprentices?" Raston asked Zac.

Zac turned to Jonathan, who smiled.

"They are working very hard in my new smithy and forge. For now I am having them make swords, armour and shields. I'm not letting them anywhere near your project."

Anton gave a respectful nod.

"Oh, you will be glad to know that both my children have agreed to become apprentice smiths themselves."

"So you did ask?" Anton asked.

He was quite interested to know if it had actually worked out. There was a genuine and warm smile on his face.

"The other smiths think it is very funny, the way that they run around all happily, so much smaller than anyone else. But they do give them respect for trying to become a smith. They are learning very quickly, even if they will not be large enough to swing a hammer properly for quite a few winters."

Verona tugged at his hand again.

"I don't think that Joclyn likes me very much."

"Why do you say that?"

"When I was going to get my armour improved, I had to take it off, and she saw my chest..."

She looked down. The enormity of her breasts were hidden somewhat by her leather armour.

"Yeah, I can guess why she was a little annoyed at seeing them right infront of her. She isn't that young... How old are they?"

"I'm not exactly sure. But I don't know how long it will be before they go through their second growth."

Second growth? Oh, puberty, right.

Anton smiled and squeezed her hand.

"It would have been nice to get some people that could make bows or arrows properly." Avery said. "Or just to properly make more crossbows. I'm sure that Jonathan easily has the skill to make the metal pieces."

Jonathan gave another nod.

"When we returned to Maxill it was going through a quite dramatic change." Anton began. "It seemed Duchess Belinda had listened to what I had to say... At least the message of what I saying. Happy workers are busy workers, so if she wanted them to work without having to resort to whips..."

Raston remained quiet, though perhaps understanding.

"She would have to invest in her territory and not just drain it dry. Part of that was setting up full and proper industries to make things to sell. The main exports of Maxill were meats, furs, and wood."

Avery seemed like he understood right away.

"After all that time of mismanagement there really wasn't much left so it had to built from scratch. Good woodworkers were in short supply, so they simply were not even for sale."

"I understand. I was just voicing my opinion."

He almost seemed defensive in his tone. That was not something that Anton wanted to continue.

"I was told that, the next time that we go to Maxill, that some will be made available. It might be only one or two but they will be able to train others in their art."

Avery nodded. He seemed to be satisfied. Anton looked around the now quiet table.

"I take it the 'general' bondsmen are working well."

He received nods from all around.

"They are," Sybil began, "We have agreed to send them where they are needed most and they are doing very well no matter what they are doing."

"That's very good to hear."

"We will soon have a major increase in food and material production." Bertram said. "But, please don't bring so many next time, it's still a bit of a struggle to keep a handle on so many. Our resources are stretched to the limit already."

Anton nodded.

"I'm thinking that we will get a smaller trickle of people over time from Maxill and Qaiviel. At such a rate that we can deal with the increase in demand without killing ourselves or the land in the process."

A look of relief come over Bertram's face. Anton realised that he had been putting almost all the administrative duties on him and his wife. They could definitely use some help.

"If, at any time, you need some people to help with your workload, do not hesitate to ask." Anton said. "We would rather not have you both run into the ground to try and keep up with demands."

Bertram smiled but said nothing. He was certainly old enough to make that decision for himself.

"I suppose you would like to know of anything special that happened at Maxill and the way there?"

The half hint that Anton left got their attention. They all looked at him with curious eyes.

"On the way there at the lake... You remember the lake?" He asked Verona.

She gave a cute little nod.

"Well, for those of you that don't know, there is a large fresh water lake on the way to Maxill through the forest. We got water and some rest there the first time. This time we ran into some Orcs."

The room was silent. It took a few moments for their brains to realise and understand what he had just said.

"Orcs?" Jeff asked, breaking the silence. "Like the ones that attacked the Yellow Goblins at the end? And then we..."

Anton waved his hand.

"Not exactly. We would have run into them if Kal hadn't been able to smell them first, and we may have even gotten into a fight if she had not told us the difference between the two. The ones we found were called Thralls. They are Orcs...but they are missing..."

He glanced at Kal, who had told them of the difference.

"Penis's. It turns out that all the first born Orcs are like that. Neither male not female. Not really anything, and are treated like such. Anyway, we ran into them heading south. There had just been a conclusion to a civil war and they were the losers. They were heading south to somewhere called the "Red Spines". Anyone heard of that before?"

There was nothing from them.

"Which may be bad news for us. Because in order for them to win they had to ally with another group called the Deweth clans."

Bertram and Sybil shuffled at their mention.

"You know of them?" Anton asked.

Bertram nodded.

"When I began my career as an financial administrator in the old Kar Kingdom we would always hear stories of great battles fought to the north in the snowy mountains. And always having to deal with the expense of such campaigns. In the end we just ended up paying the clans not to fight us. It was cheaper in the long run."

"Young nobles would always go off to fight for glory." Sybil began. "Much to the horror of their wives and families. I had to help the women deal with the consequences, like having to give birth alone, or to someone that they found comfort with while their husbands were away."

He understood what that meant.

I bet you would have had knowledge of quite a few acts of infidelity.

"The stories of those that did come back were of savage and powerful warriors," Sybil continued, "Giant, burly men and women that would crash though a line of soldiers. Each one could take on four men with ease."

Everyone looked very worried. They had problems with the Yellow Goblins and Kobolds, though they did vastly outnumber the villagers even though they were significantly weaker. The possibility of fighting thousands of very strong humans, that each had the strength of a rampaging barbarian, was not a pleasant one.

"So, these clansmen and the Orc tribes have banded together-"

"Not to come here?" Jonathan asked, his voice quivering from panic and concern. Probably for his children.

"I honestly don't think so." Anton replied, doing his best to calm Jonathan and the others. "According to our new friends in Maxill, they try regularly to attack the Qaiviel kingdom through a large set of forts. But they're late. My idea was that the Deweth clan and Orc tribe armies will attack from the east of Qaiviel rather than through the northern passes.... It would be easier if we had a map I could show you, the Duchess had one in Maxill..."

"Hang on." Sybil said as she pushed out her chair. “This would be easier if we could all see it.”

She left and returned a minute later with a rough piece of blank paper along with a wrapped piece of charcoal.

"Thank you." He said as she handed it to him.

He placed it down and began to draw a rough map of what Duchess Belinda and Alfred had shown him.

"This southern area of the Deweth clans, which is just beyond the mountain to our north, used to be controlled by hostile Orcs. Now the Orcs are no longer hostile. So my worry is that they will head along the mountain edge and head straight for Maxill."

"Why?" Jeff asked.

"Because Qaiviel won't be expecting it. Maxill, up until very recently, would have fallen under a day. It might still. They could then use that as a base while they ravaged the relatively unprotected heartland of the kingdom."

"So why does it concern us?" Avery asked. "Unless you're saying that they would see us on the journey and attack us."

"Again, not exactly. If Maxill falls, so to does a potentially valuable ally... And a source of people and money that we so desperately need. Also, the bondsmen live that live here would not like to know that we could have done something and didn't."

"I wouldn't either." Raston spoke with his arms crossed. "A lot of the new bondsmen still have many friends and relatives there. It would be hard to keep order here if they were to be found dead."

"So you want us to send our soldiers to Maxill's and Qaiviel's aid should they be attacked?" Jeff asked, he seemed less than thrilled to be sending Atros villagers to fight and die in somebody else’s war.

"Not an army." Verona spoke up, "If someone were to be captured they would let them know where we are and then we would be finished. It would be better if it were two people. Two people that could defeat a small army on their own."

Everyone looked a little concerned that their two most powerful people could be leaving.

"I'm also telling you this so you know that we might be leaving in a hurry. Which also means that I don't want you to try and antagonise the beasts and monsters roaming about."

"What if that goddess, Nithroel, just decides to attack again when you are both away?" Jeff asked.

"If she really wanted to she would not have made the treaty with my gods and just flattened us. And there would be nothing that either of us could do to stop it."

Everyone looked quite glum, knowing that there was great uncertainty hanging over their future.

"Which is why we need to be ready to help Maxill." Anton began. "I got the feeling that Nithroel is not going to hold to her promise, or treaty or whatever, for very long. She really seems to hate my gods to an extreme level. By helping Maxill we can help ourselves get so much stronger. And next time something like the Kobolds attack we can send them squealing away in fear."

Jeff nodded.

"Alright." He motioned for the map to be passed to him. "We could get a few lookouts here, on Mount Aspire. That will give us over all that grassland and the mountain ranges to the north. If they go anywhere near that we'll be able to see them. It's the best we can do with what we have."

Anton nodded.

"Sounds like a good idea. Just make sure that those sentry posts keep themselves hidden. We definitely do not want an Orc and Clansmen army descending from the north after having spotted our scouts."

Jeff nodded again.

"I'll see about sending a few builders and some wood, for shelter for the lookouts. Nothing too much so they don't stand out against the mountain." Zac added.

"Thank you both." Anton said. "Potential disasters aside, we are looking at having our first trading partner. Now it's just a case of having something good to sell... Do we have anything in abundance that can be transported easily?"

There was no answer.

"How about when we meet up again for lunch we share anything we have thought of?" Verona suggested.

There were murmurs and nods of approval. She lent up to his ear.

"Sorry, but it looks like they are getting a bit tired. Mentally at least."

"And you're not?"

Verona smiled wickedly.

"I know what to expect from you."

She smiled as she took her normal position. Nobody else seemed to want to say anything.

"Very good then. Is there anything else that needs to be addressed?" Anton asked.

There seemed to be nothing. Bertram clapped his hands.

"I think that is the end then. We have quite a bit to do and think about from this meeting, but nothing that cannot be done."

There was some murmur of agreement as everyone stood up.

"Jonathan," Anton began, "Can I swing by your new smithy and see how the 'project' is going? We have the powder so..."

"Sure."

"I'm going to go with Sybil." Verona said as she pulled down on his sleeve.

He turned down and threw up a questioning brow.

"You won't need me for the project thing that you are doing. Though, I do want to see it in action. So I was going to go with Sybil and find out if the person we have in mind wants the Marshall position. It'll be good to have me there so they understand who they are dealing with. That needs to be dealt with right away."

"Okay." Anton gave her a quick kiss, which was returned. "I'll catch up with you as soon as I can."

"Righto!"

The council members started to rise and make for the door.

"Anton?"

He turned around and saw Kal looking rather nervous.

"I know that I said I wanted to contribute, but right now-"

"Come with me then." Verona said happily, cutting her off.

Kal looked very confused.

"Me?"

"Yeah. You can come along. It will also give us the chance to see if they have anything against protecting a beast-kin."

Verona reached out and grabbed the edge of Kal's cloak. She began to pull her towards the door. Kal resisted slightly but Verona seemed very insistent. She gave a light shrug, almost as if she knew this was happening one way or another, and hesitantly allowed herself to be dragged off.

"I'll see you at lunch no matter what!" Verona shouted out as she led Kal out the door.

Both girls gave him a wave, and then they were gone. Sybil followed them as fast as she could.

"Will she be okay with Verona?" Jeff asked, stopping next to Anton.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." Anton answered. "Kal is a very strong girl. I didn't tell you before but she got her foot impaled by a wolf's tooth and didn't say a word. She's probably one of the toughest girls in the world. Not to mention what else she has been through."

Jeff raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.

"That is tough."

"It's also nice to see Verona having another friend. I think with her power and marks it might be a little difficult for her to have many. Kal's probably the third woman she could call as a friend, and the first that's roughly her own age."

Jeff hummed in agreement.

"Yeah. If you didn't know her well she can be scary." He turned so he could whisper in Anton's ear. "You didn't hear the way she laughed when she used her magic on the first day of the Kobold attacks. It was..."

Anton shrugged.

"It doesn't matter to me. We are going to work it out together."

"Shouldn't you be doing that now?"

"Possibly. But I am liking the independent Verona quite a lot. We'll do it once we've got our respective things sorted. So long as she doesn't use her power, she's fine and I trust her judgement."

"Right." Jeff said with a nod. "Is it alright if I come along? Jonathan here won't explain what you've got him to build and neither will Zac. They both say it's something secret and they're sure that you don't just want anyone looking at it."

He nodded to Jonathan, still waiting patiently a few paces behind.

"I thought you would have said that Anton."

Anton nodded.

"It's good to keep secrecy, especially as I have many more things for you to build for me."

Jonathan looked quite distraught. He had to interoperate his vague designs and try and make it work with no fundamental knowledge, or even rudimentary knowledge, of how it was supposed to actually work. It was no wonder that he was not thrilled that there would be more things for him to decipher.

"Are they going to be as dangerous and deadly as I think this first thing of yours could be?" Jonathan asked.

Anton nodded again.

"Far more so. But first, we need to make this first one work." He turned to Jeff. "To answer your original question, yes you can come along. This is going, hopefully, to be used by your soldiers, so you'll definitely need to know what this thing actually is."

Jeff looked quite excited, almost like a child that had just been handed some candy. It was something Anton was not expecting to see from him.

"So how dangerous is it really?"

Anton started to walk to the door.

"If it works right, and we use it right, it'll start to change the world forever."

----------

Hello.

This chapter is more of a recap-ish chapter. I could have just said Anton told them but I wanted to try and keep fleshing out the other characters a bit. Perhaps more of my attempt to show how the other people think about Anton's thoughts and adding their own to the information about the treaty with Nithroel. Unfortunately most of the information would be at least 40 or so years old and the few people who would know the truth have had far more important things to worry about.

Setting up the other people for the council is simple enough.

A bit more information on how Seocuria treats the beast-kin in general and what they are capable of. Also what sort of other Beast-kin would have suffered over their lives.

Also setting up who the main 'villan' for this arc will be.

The next two chapters are basically done, so those should not be too far away.

Chapter 42 will see the first attempt at a cannon, so look forward to that.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for any and all donations!

Chapter 041 - Laying down the Law

Chapter 041:

Verona was almost skipping as she walked through the central plaza.

A great weight had been lifted from her heart, a heart now filled with joy; knowing that Anton would still love her regardless of her changes, to say nothing of the physical pleasures she was once again able to experience. It felt so good just to lie in a warm bed after so long. That night, meeting her Goddess Jira properly for the first time, had almost turned into one of the worst and most sickening she can remember. She had no idea as to why Jira's words made her so angry, beyond being incredibly insulting.

In a strange way that too had lifted some of the burden on her mind. At least she knew what she was dealing with, and was not possessed by something evil or simply going insane.

"Verona?" came a soft elderly voice from behind.

Verona stopped and turned around. Sybil was following her, but her age meant that she could not travel as fast as someone as young like her. Nevertheless, she was trying her hardest. It was something she instantly regretted forgetting.

"Sorry." Verona apologised as she walked back to her, "I got carried away in pleasant thoughts."

"It seems like it." Sybil chuckled.

"Who are we going to see, exactly?" Kal asked.

Kal was walking behind Sybil, in a very strange way. She now moved less confidently and proudly now that she was heading somewhere new. Her eyes darted around and her hand rested on the hilts of her daggers.

You're walking like you're a thief, or a wild animal on the hunt. But you haven't looked like this until now... Every other time Anton has been with you.

She looked at her fingers resting on the daggers. They twitched in readiness, as if she expected that she was about to be assaulted at any moment, despite Anton's announcement that she was protected.

Is that it? That you don't believe him?.... That's not entirely right. It's like you think it might still happen despite his assurances.

Kal caught her eye and frowned. She did not like Verona looking at her so intently.

The words that Anton's god,Tethra, the prayer goddess and the same one that Kal prayed to every night, spoke of came back. She remembered hearing that she cried every night, and that she deserved some happiness. What she did not need was Verona judging her.

"Well," Verona moved so she stood in between them as they walked south, "We didn't really want to say it in there, just in case somebody got upset."

"Who?" Kal seemed even more confused.

"It's easier just to show you."

Kal smiled lightly but still looked thoroughly confused.

As they walked in silence Verona noticed the stares again. They were even more brutal on her mind than before. Most were of outright fear of her, not surprising since she had been the one to, effectively, single handedly beat back the Kobolds with her blood power. During the battle most were too exhausted to care  but now they were rested, and had energy to stare at her. Their eyes were full of misplaced judgment. The mounting problems of her blood glyph, like her wild laughing and seemingly effortless way in which she killed the Kobolds, had not helped.

As she looked deeper into their eyes she saw that not all were directed at her. While many were, some were directed at Kal. She showed no obvious sign that she was affected. Just as she was about to turn away she saw something, a quiver on her bottom lip and a tiny twitch on her beautiful green eyes. It was tiny and she fought it back, but not before Verona could see it.

So it does affect you.

Kal turned to Verona, who turned her eyes forward. Through the corner of her vision she could see Kal looking right at her. Verona reached out and linked her arm with Kal, something that she was not expecting. She let out a squeak of surprise, the same cute one that she let out when Verona hugged her when they returned. That was not something she was going to forget any time soon.

"They will accept you completely, one day." Verona said.

"I... I would like that. But they look oddly at you too."

Verona grimaced and pointed to the red marks that covered her skin.

"This," she then pointed at Kal's ears, "And those mean that we will always be outsiders, of sorts."

"True. It is different for both of you. Yet it is not." Sybil began.

She had been very quiet the whole time they had been talking. It was only then that Verona realised she had been listening and watching the whole time.

"Verona was once an ordinary person, just like the rest of us." Sybil continued. "After Anton-"

Verona threw Sybil a look to not explain further. Kal did not know that Anton came from another world but Sybil did. There was a chance they could let it slip, not that Kal would have many people to tell.

"Arrived that all changed... As did a number of things."

That they did.

"Anyway, Kal, they look at her like that because, not one season ago, she was a normal person. As strong, or as weak, as the rest of us. Now she can do... Well, you've seen what she can do."

Verona felt strangely embarrassed as Kal looked at her, not from judgement but one of surprise. She might have thought that she always had her blood power.

"To see someone like change like that can be a little frightening. I know I still find it a little scary."

Something felt warm in Verona's heart. Hearing what someone honestly thought, and not hidden behind false niceties, was oddly uplifting.

"You, on the other side of things, are a complete outsider."

Kal looked a little taken aback by what she had just said.

"I don't mean it like that. You are a beast-kin. Half-breed or not, they don't see any difference. You're a beast-kin, which everyone has been told about in children’s tales as wicked creatures, but have never seen one themselves. But what they have been told over and over again has sunk into their minds. It'll take time for them to adjust."

She smiled warmly at hearing that.

"Being a cute beast-kin also helps."

Kal flushed, not as deeply as when she was told that infront of the whole village, but still very noticeable. Verona looked back at Sybil. She had a cheeky look on her face.

Despite your age you still have a sense of humour.

Verona sniggered as Kal's blush deepened. She closed her eyes and held her head down. Verona unlinked her arm before giving her a pat on the back.

"The past two days are probably the first in a long time that you've been called something like cute."

Kal's flush began to fade as she scratched at her cheek.

"Actually, I was called cute by one of the Orcs that we met at the lake."

"Wow." Verona and Sybil muttered.

Kal's face changed again. Verona was no great reader of faces but she felt like Kal was about to ask something difficult.

"It was... Strange. That whole meeting. Most humans first instinct is to kill an Orc when they see one. And yet, the first thing he wanted to do was see if they were friendly, if they can be talked to."

Verona knew instantly who she was talking about.

"There could have been a lot more Orcs than there were of them." Sybil answered. "It sounds like it was a reasonable decision. Besides, he could take care of them by himself."

Verona nodded in agreement, but all it succeed in doing was increasing Kal's confusion.

"Exactly. Then there was him dealing with that Duchess Belinda, haggling over the price of the bondsmen and offering the information about a possible attack from the Clansmen and Orcs for free... And dealing with myself."

"He doesn't care about you being a beast-kin. It doesn't worry him."

Kal chuckled nervously as she massaged her hand, which she brought into a fist.

"No. It's not that."

Verona tilted her head, not understanding what she meant. Whatever it was she was not saying.

"I... I don't know what to make of him. He's very... Odd."

"That he is."

Verona chuckled as she scratched her head. Kal brought her hand up and started to twirl a few stray hairs near her ear and looked down at the ground. A light groan from Sybil caught her attention. She had a face that was difficult to describe, mainly it looked to be of concern. Verona raised her eyebrows to get her to explain but she did not.

A lot of people don't seem to want to tell me stuff today.

She looked back at Kal, who had resumed her normal walk and pace.

"Anyway," Kal started after a cough, "Could you please tell me who this mystery person that we're meeting is?"

I suppose there's really nothing to be gained by keeping it a secret from you. Other people seem to be doing that...It'll help show you that we can share things between friends.

"You know Dana, right?"

Kal nodded.

"That's the woman that we travelled with us to Maxill. The one that rides the horses."

Verona nodded.

"Yep. Anyway, she was the only person that was willing to come out of the mountain alive. The goblins had done horrible things to them, they just wanted to sleep. But there was someone that went in there to look for her, and it wasn't Raston."

Kal frowned.

"I don't know who that would be. I arrived well after the Yellow Goblins were killed."

"It's her brother, Dennis." Sybil added. "He, unlike quite a few of us, was willing to brave the infested mountain to save his sister. He should make a fine new Marshall."

Kal bent her head down in thought and rubbed her chin.

"Because he knows what life was like before, he knows that Anton was very important in not only saving Atros but also someone very important to him, and has an interest in not letting it fall back into the way it was."

Verona looked at Kal questioningly. She looked a little nervous underneath Verona's stare.

"During the trip to and from Maxill, there was not a lot to do on quite a few of those days. I learned a little bit of what happened before I arrived."

"That's basically it." Verona replied, as she broke out in a smile, "We need someone that's going to be loyal to Atros and have a good reason to keep order."

"He seemed like he would be a good fit for the role." Sybil added. "Nobody alive has any real experience as a Marshall, or law man. Our last one died... Well, before even you were born Kal. So we're going to have to do our best to figure out how it will work. And my son cannot do everything."

Kal looked around at the villagers going about their day. There were more out than when they had arrived at the council meeting, but there were still many more to come. It was a little surprising that a large number of the villagers working were the former bondsmen. Their previous life must have conditioned them well for working hard and early.

"Everyone seems well behaved." Kal said.

A small group of villagers parted to let them past. Verona sighed, as they moved well out of the way, along with the near standard look of repressed fear on their faces.

"That's now." Sybil began. "Before it was kind of a mess, all waiting for the end in some way."

Kal looked very surprised.

"Yeah. It wasn't great." Verona scratched the back of her head. "I was living underneath a table, wondering how I would die."

"That's..."

Verona smiled and linked her arm again.

"That's all in the past now. Let's focus on the future."

Kal returned the smile, and so to did Sybil. Verona hopped that everything would continue to go well and peacefully, even though she knew it would not.

---[]---

Sybil brought them to a halt outside a house on the south eastern side of Atros. It was not that far from the central plaza but, to Verona, every house looked very similar. That was why her parents had planted the blue flowers outside her house. Although now she was as the age of twenty it was no longer an issue, but thinking about it did remind her about how much she miss the colours.

I should see if Anton is interested in having a little flower garden or something. I think there is some room near the back of the house that we don't use. It might be fun. Brighten the place up.

A knock on the wooden door brought her back to the present. Kal, to her side, tensed up once again. It was nowhere to the extent of when Anton outed her infront of the whole village but it was close. Remembering the embarrassed expression on her face, the way she turned to Anton for help, and how she tired in vain to cover her uncontrollable embarrassment and blush, brought a smile to her face. It was absolutely adorable to see her like that.

Sybil knocked again, more forcefully this time.

"Is this person already out working?" Kal asked.

Sybil shook her head.

"I've known most of the children that have grown up in Atros. And I know that he has difficulty in waking up."

The words that Tethra spoke came back into Verona's mind.

I don't think I can ask outright, but...

"Do you manage to get much sleep here... Or when you were travelling? I know that it was a bit difficult for me the first few times."

Verona chuckled at the end but it seemed to have no effect on Kal. She shrugged, after taking a moment to think about it.

"I did enjoy getting a full night of sleep here. But, out there, you learn to make do with what you can get."

Verona studied her face as best she could. She looked a little sad as she spoke, not that she would have known what Verona knew, but it felt like it might be the truth.

She doesn't want someone to pity her, remember that.

Finally the door opened. A bleary looking man emerged, his clothes dishevelled and slightly smelling of alcohol. Verona lent closer to Kal.

"You've got a better sense of smell than the rest of us. Can you smell that?"

Kal nodded lightly.

"Very well. I can smell the alcohol coming from the air leaving the house. I can smell and hear things that most humans, or even full Beast-kin can't."

Verona nodded, but then a thought creeped in the back of her mind.

If she can smell that, what else can she smell? I certainly hope not me smelling of... That would make things pretty awkward.

Verona glanced up at Kal, something that annoyed her as she was shorter than her, and saw nothing on her face. Right now she was very difficult to read.

The man glanced between all three as his dreary eyes rapidly came into focus. It was then that he realised who was standing outside his door.

"Errr....Sybil. I'm sorry if I'm a little late to start work in the fields but I can assure you that I can be there in a few heartbeats."

So he works in the fields growing and tending to the crops. That's interesting, completely different to what his sister does.

Sybil waved him down.

"We aren't here about that." she said. "We're here about something else."

He looked between them as he straightened himself up and his clothes.

Verona could appreciate his nervousness. Here was one of the most influential people in Atros, the Blood Berserker mage who has killed tens of thousands of Kobolds by herself and in a relationship with their extremely powerful mage, and the half breed beast-kin that was under Anton's personal protection. It was little wonder that he was so scared.

He seemed to relax a little but remained very nervous.

"Then... How can I help?"

"We need to talk to you and we would rather not do it outside your front door." Sybil lent down and rubbed her knees. "My bones and joints are not what they used to be. Do you have enough chairs for all of us?"

Before Dennis could answer Kal interjected.

"I can stand, it's not a problem for me."

Verona shook her head.

"No you're not. You are one of us, so you won't be standing like you aren't allowed to sit."

Everyone went quiet as Verona flushed a little in embarresment.

"Sorry, Kal. Lately I have been a little quick to snap at people."

She scratched at the visible marks on her hand, hoping that would be enough to convey her message. Judging by her face it did.

"So," Sybil broke the awkward silence, "Do you have places for us all to sit?"

He shook his head.

"No. But we do have enough out the back in the garden."

"You have a garden?" Verona asked.

"Yes. Well, we've always had one but it's needed a bit of work. Please, head around the back and find a seat. I'll get properly dressed."

He closed the door with a frightening speed, leaving the three quite bewildered.

"He's not running away?" Kal asked. "Is he?"

Verona closed her eyes to concentrate on the sounds. She wished again that she had Anton's prayer ability. There had been quite a few times where it would have come in handy.

She could not hear any thing like a door being opened. Hopefully he was not running.

"I don't think so." Verona replied. "We could have just asked him right then."

"Would you agree to something like being a Marshall after you had just woken up and approached by all of us?" Sybil asked.

Verona shook her head.

"No. I don't think I would."

Sybil backed down from the door and moved to a small, low wooden gate in between his house and the adjacent.

"I guess we go through here." Sybil mumbled as she opened the gate.

A small flat stone path, surrounded by short grass, led them around to the rear of the house. Kal mumbled something as she walked behind but was not willing to share. At the back was a small, but beautiful, garden. It had a few small trees and flowering shrubs, and a few small blue and yellow flowers. Quite a bit of work had gone into this.

Kal looked rather astounded as well. Most of the village was rather bland and lacking in colour compared to here.

Definitely need to put some effort into making this place a bit more colourful. At the very least it'll make it a bit friendlier to newcomers.

"This looks very nice." Kal said softly.

Verona turned around and smiled.

"The Duchess Belinda of Maxill had a very impressive garden as well." Kal continued. "Although I think she had quite a few servants to do it for her."

Verona titled her head in thought.

"That mansion... Well, it did have something that looked like a garden around the front of it... I didn't know it had one like this."

Kal nodded.

"We went through the mansion and were shown to a garden that was half enclosed by the mansion, where the Duchess Belinda was waiting for us."

"Huh."

Anton said the same thing about the trip, at least you aren't lying about that... Not that I actually know if you are trying to lie.

In front of a large central tree was a wooden bench, side on to the rear of the house. Sybil quickly took her seat followed by a grunt and the sound of relief from her bones. Verona sat next to her and so did Kal, after a moments hesitation. They did not have to wait long before the back door opened. Dennis emerged, still wearing the same clothes but they were more neatly presented along with himself in general. At least he did not want to make a bad impression.

As he made his way to them, Sybil began to speak.

"This is a very impressive garden you have here. It must have taken a bit of work."

He smiled as he took a seat on a small wooden chair to the side.

"Yes. Yes it did. I never got the chance to thank you, Verona, for saving my sister."

Verona smiled.

"I'm just glad that she's better now."

Dennis smiled bitterly.

"The first few days were very difficult. She would wake up in the night screaming and trying to fend off imaginary goblins."

This is horrible to think, but I'm glad it wasn't me.

"A few days later, I think that you and Anton had already left, I talked to some other elders who said that she should not spend all her time staying inside. It would do her good to go outside and do something. Anything to take her mind off what happened."

If you're stuck inside all day there is little else you can do except think. And for her it would have let her mind wander to the worst days of her life, stuck in that dark and musty cave with all those things crawling all over her... Doing anything would be better.

"We had this garden out the back here, so we fixed it up, using a few neighbours to help out. It... I think it helped her a lot."

"Yeah. She even has a boyfriend now." Verona added.

Dennis chuckled.

"I honestly didn't think she would be ready for something like that, but she told me that she knows what she's doing and I trust her."

"That is very good to hear." Sybil said.

"But," He continued, "I don't think all three of you came here to chat about my sister."

Sybil shook her head.

"No. No we did not. We came here because we would like for you to be the first Marshall of Atros."

Her words seemed to not reach his ears. There was nothing to indicate that he even heard, let alone understood, what was being asked of him. A few moments later he finally realised.

"Me? You want me to be a Marshall?" He asked exasperatedly, "To enforce laws and punishment?"

Verona looked carefully at the man. He was not the strongest looking man but he did not look entirely weak either. Someone in the middle for the people in the village. This could work.

"Yes." Sybil answered flatly.

"I... I wouldn't know the first thing about it."

Sybil shrugged lightly.

"That doesn't matter. I think it will be a simple job; making sure people don't steal things, start fights and just help keep people happy and in line."

"But why me?"

Verona was the one to answer.

"As Anton has brought more than seven hundred new people to Atros, there will also likely be more in the future, there's a good chance that some of them will be bad. At the very least they won't respect us and the way we do things. So, we need someone that has a very good reason to be loyal to the ruling council, to follow through with their duty and to make sure that the madness of before Anton... Arrived, is not repeated. You know exactly what it was like. The new people from Maxill don't know how bad it can get. There situation seemed different to ours."

"So that's why we've come to you." Sybil added.

Dennis nodded slowly.

"Alright. I don't have any experience but I'll give it a go."

Sybil clapped her hands once in celebration.

"Excellent." she began. "You and I, Jeff and Berty-"

Berty?

"Will need to meet some time later this morning when we can start to figure out how this is all meant to work."

"Okay... But, I am meant to be heading off to tend to the new plantations and start harvesting. We're already a bit behind on that."

Sybil waved her wrinkled hand.

"You don't need to worry about that any more. You will still have to work in some respect, but your main duty will be ensuring safety and internal security of Atros."

"And that's for all the people of Atros." Verona added.

Dennis looked a little confused. Verona looked over at Kal, then back to him. He seemed only get the idea then.

"All of them, even if they are... a little different to us."

Dennis nodded deeply, a tiny trickle of sweat ran down his forehead.

"I understand completely. Be they human, beast-kin or whatever else, I will treat them fairly and without judgement."

"Thank you." Kal spoke for the first time.

"Exactly what we need." Sybil said, taking a few moments to fully stand upright. "We'll head over and try and find my son. He'll be able to suggest some good people to form the first Marshall's of Atros."

Verona straightened up as she thought of something else.

"You might want to consider getting them something a little different to wear. So people know that they are speaking to a Marshall." Verona added.

Sybil nodded in thought.

"I think we can find something for that."

Verona stood up and so to did Kal.

"You two can head over to Jonathan's new smithy, Anton will probably still be-"

A lightning crack roared through the air. Kal winced loudly as she ducked down low and looked to the sky. A nervous hand clutched at one of her daggers as she scoured the sky furiously. There were a few lonely clouds in the morning sky but nothing enough to create such a violent sound. At that moment she remembered that Kal was terrified of lightning. Not a good combination with Anton.

Another rang out and then another.

"That sounded like it came from the new smithy." Verona said worryingly.

A fourth crack came from the north, then it was silent.

"Verona, Kal, go and see what is happening." Sybil commanded. "I'll make my way there as fast as I can. I hope they haven't just destroyed the wall with whatever stupid thing those boys are making."

Verona nodded and headed for the gate, making sure that Kal was following closely behind. She was, but whatever was haunting her from her past had taken its toll. Her hands were jittery and she held one of them on the hilt of her one of her daggers, refusing to let it go.

"You alright?" Verona asked, immediately realising what a silly question it was.

"Kind of." Her voice was only trembling slightly less than she was a few moments before. "I just really don't like lightning. It... It brings back some bad and painful memories."

Verona opened the gate and walked out to the road. There was many people outside, some still as bleary as Dennis had been when he had woken up. All had stopped and were looking towards the north east, where Jonathan's smithy and Anton were.

"Come on, let's find out what's happening."

Verona only made a few steps before she had to voice the question in the back of her mind. She waited for Kal to walk alongside her, so she could try and read her expression.

"Anton said that he used lightning during the trip to defend against the wolves. That didn't affect you?"

Kal hesitated before answering.

"No. That... That's different to normal lightning."

"But it sounds basically the same."

Kal hummed in agreement as she nodded.

"Yes, but those, I know who it comes from. So it's fine."

"He used it at the lake with the Kobolds, and you..."

Kal grimmaced. She had started to plead with Anton not to strike her. That was a very disturbing moment.

"I've come to trust him more. I understand that he wouldn't do that."

Kal smiled as best she could, though there was no indication that she would explain exactly what she meant by that. That might be teased out later, if at all. Verona, reminding herself to make a memory of it, chuckled and broke into a light run, Kal followed closely behind seemingly without effort.

"Do you know what Anton has gotten them to work on?" Verona asked.

Kal shook her head.

"I only know that it uses the special blue powder that he bought in Maxill. Powder that he said not to get any fire near it."

Sounds like the stuff from those drawings of his.

"Well Kal, I think we're both about to find out what mad thing my boyfriend has got them making."

-------------

Hello,

Broke this chapter in two so it flows a bit better, also easier for me to handle. Next shouldn't be too long away.....

Brought back someone who was talked about and to and gave them a bit more of a character. He's going to rock up from time to time.  I chose Dana's brother, because there's only one other character that's been introduced has a part to play in the 3rd arc.

Verona and Kal are not there to establish what exactly a lawman will be doing in Atros, but to show exaclt what will be watching over them, and to make sure there are no prejudices. And if there are, reminding him to keep it inside.

I'm also showing that Verona's trying to help become a better friend with Kal, also trying to find out how much truth Kal has actually said. Also showing that Kals confidence is quite shaky, and a bit more about the relationship between the two of them.

That's about it.

Thanks for reading everyone!

Chapter 042 - The First Test

Chapter 042:

Anton arrived at Jonathan's new smithy soon after leaving Verona and the Main Hall.

The new smithy looked very impressive. Jonathan's old one looked more like a converted house but this was so much better. Now it was  dedicated solely to the forging weapons and armour. In it lay a large furnace and forge in the center of the open area, with what looked to be a smelter to one side, all in heavy use. Stacks of blunted weapons and armour filled nearly every free spot of the smithy, all waiting to be repaired. At least ten people worked inside; the smith bondsmen and their apprentices, as well as a few people he recognised from the village. The noise of metal striking metal was phenomenal.

"You have done some truly impressive work here." Anton said.

Jeff and Jonathan stood either side. A quick glance showed that they were indeed proud.

"It is now doing so much better... Mainly because I have more people to help me. They can do most of the repairing work while I try and figure out your drawings."

Anton chuckled nervously.

"I do understand that it has been a little much of me to just heap such a task on you, but you seem to be exceeding in everything you do."

Jonathan smiled, there was almost a hint of a blush from such overt praise. He coughed to steady his mind and next words.

"I asked Zac to build an enclosed room to the side. That is where those barrels have been put, as well as the first few attempts."

"Few?" Anton asked.

"I was not really confident with my first attempt. It was a bit bent, compared to how straight I think it is meant to be, and the colour of the metal looked rather odd. It twisted and swirled in odd ways. So I have had four more made. That should be enough to test, right?"

"Should be." Anton answered. "Did you get those done before the Kobolds attacked?"

Jonathan nodded.

"You people do work fast. Can we see them?"

"Of course. Right this way."

Jonathan led them through the smithy to the door at the back. The smithy smelled of burning coal and iron, soot and sweat. A cacophony of noise filled the air; metal striking metal, the sudden gusts of air from the bellows and the sizzling sound of metal being tempered in water. A true spectacle of people working hard, something that quite a number of people on Earth, Anton included, had no real idea about. What was also extraordinary was that most of the new smiths were the bondsmen from Maxill, it seemed strange that they would already be showing such enthusiasm after a single night in their new home. Anton was not about to question it though.

The smiths, especially the ones from Maxill who still wore their original clothes, bowed their heads slightly as Jonathan passed. He tried to get them to stop but they would not. It seemed to be a genuine expression of respect. When they saw Anton that bow deepened even more. He caught a glimmer of fear on their faces.

Not that surprising, I suppose. Still feels quite weird to have them behave like this. By now, and especially after that drinking session last night, they would have been filled in on the gossip of who does what around here. I'm sure that Verona and myself have featured in that discussion.

"How are things going?" Jonathan asked one of the smiths near the back.

The man was quite large, almost as big as Jonathan or Zac, which he used to great effect as he swung a hammer onto a heavily dented metal chest piece from the inside to straighten it out.

"Very good, sir." He said, putting down the hammer and wiping his hands with a spare piece of cloth. "Give us a couple of days and we should have all of these repaired."

"That is very good to hear, but I am not a sir." Jonathan replied.

"Forgive me." The man said with a light bow of his head. "It is something we learned to survive in Maxill. Whomever worked for the Duchess..."

"There won't be any of that happening here." Anton added.

"Thank you, Grand Mage."

"A what?" Jeff asked a moment before Anton could.

"A Grand Mage." The smith looked somewhat confused and a little nervous. "That is what you would be called in the Graterious Kingdom, for someone of your magical strength. The name does not do you actual justice. Only, that is the highest rank that I know of."

"Huh." Do Anton said as he turned to Jeff and Jonathan. "I guess you learn something new everyday. Thanks for the information."

The smith bowed very deeply this time. Relief was evident all over his body, relief that Anton was not going to use his magic to punish him for some reason.

"Shall we continue?" Anton asked.

"I really do want to see this thing." Jeff added.

Jonathan nodded and led them through to the back, leaving a very relieved smith to carry on with his work. Anton did not miss to notice that the other smiths looked as equally scared as him. He had told Kal that he did not intend to use fear as the primary tool to keep order but it did seem to have its advantages when used correctly.

They reached the back of the smithy, close to the second wall, and Jonathan opened the door. The inside looked to be like a tinkerer or inventors workshop. Small and broken pieces of the mould sand lay everywhere along with scraps of paper, all with different ideas on how to make Anton's cannon idea a reality.

"It is a bit of a mess," Jonathan began, "But I have not allowed anyone else in here, for security reasons."

He pointed to one side of the room. Lined up against the side were the barrels of the explosive powder.

I hope this can actually work. Otherwise a lot of my knowledge of combat could be going to waste. That would limit us to the sciences and magic’s of this world. Then I've only got my magic, and the money we've managed to recover, to work with. Not that that's something to scoff at.

"The metal tubes, which we are calling the 'Hand Cannon', are right over here."

Next to the barrels of powder was a table, which had five of the Hand Cannon's resting on it. To the side of them were over a dozen metal balls. They looked like they would fit perfectly into the metal tube. Jeff moved forward and inspected the, to him at least, bizarre contraptions that Jonathan had built for him.

"These are what you have been making?" He asked.

His tone was not offensive, he seemed genuinely interested in what they were.

"I suppose you could hit someone with these but... You would already know that. They are almost hollow..."

He picked up one of the metal balls and held it in his hand.

"I... Uh, I'm going to let you two explain what this actually is."

"I definitely think we'll want to head outside for this test. The last thing we want is this whole place to go up in flames."

Jeff looked a little afraid, like he was starting to suspect what these things could do.

---[]---

The impromptu test range was set up outside the second wall of Atros, past the eastern gate. Jeff wrangled a few of the soldiers on patrol to carry the equipment outside. They seemed just as confused as to what the actually were for as Jeff still was. A wooden stand was hammered into the ground, large and hopefully strong enough for the Hand Cannons to be lashed to without breaking during the tests. A large wooden table had been brought out as well on which the Hand Cannons were placed, along with a barrel of the blue explosive powder. Jonathan started to pour some of the powder into the cannon and compact it with a tightly wound cloth wrapped around a stick. He looked quite happy as he did this.

The soldiers looked very confused as this was done and made the smart decision to stand back. Even the soldiers on the wall watched with an eager, but cautious, fascination.

"This seems quite dangerous." Jeff mumbled, holding a iron shot in his hand. "If what you say about this is true, it could kill us as just likely as the enemy if it goes wrong and destroys the hand cannon."

"I believe that would be called a misfire." Anton replied. "That's also why, for our first proper test of these, we won't be anywhere near them."

"But how will we ignite the powder?"

"I'll use my magic to make a little fireball and use that to ignite a powder stream leading away. By the way, Jonathan, how are we coming along with that?"

Jonathan stood hunched over the table, trying his best to get some of the blue powder into the Hand Cannon without it spilling over the table and making a potential disaster.

"There's the last one done." Jonathan announced, dusting off his hands and looking very pleased.

Jonathan pulled out a small wooden scoop out of the powder barrel.

"There was not a lot of to go off with those drawings of yours. I am also guessing that this powder is probably not the same stuff you are... used to. So I had to guess with how much to use."

Jonathan moved and tapped on each of the cannons.

"So, I made each one with a different amount of powder. I know how much is in each one when we need to do it again."

Anton and Jeff nodded.

"I get it." Jeff began. "You don't know which will work best, so when we find the best we can just use that in the future."

Jonathan smiled again.

"I believe this is the beginning of something called 'Standardisation'." Anton said. "So when I say it needs two scoops, or whatever it could be, everyone else will know what it will mean. So long as they have the same scoop. That's another problem."

"The building bondsmen are saying similar things about the wall and buildings. So we can build everything to one design. They say it'll mean that we can build much more quickly and so it can be repaired much more easily." Jeff added.

"How's he taking it?" Anton asked.

Jeff and Jonathan shrugged happily.

"Pretty well, I think." Jeff answered. "He can see the good in doing it so that's enough for him. Though, that might just be him putting on a tough face."

If I get this thing with Verona sorted, I'll need to track him down and have a proper chat. Haven't really done that with him yet. The infrastructure of Atros will be vital for everything we do. It'll pay in the long run to make sure that he's doing alrigh. See what I can possibly add from my world, though I'm not sure what I can actually add with this level of technology.

"I'll see about getting to have a proper chat with him later." Anton continued. "I can light the powder with this."

He held out his hand and summoned a small fire ball. It was strange that neither of them showed any fear as he did this, they really must have trusted his ability and judgement.

"So where do I light it? And the same goes for normal people using these."

Jonathan pointed to a small hole on the top of the Hand Cannon. He withdrew his mana before looking in. In it he could see the blue powder but also a tiny trail out and a few inches along the down the cannon. Amongst the powder were several slightly larger granules of the blue powder. He touched one and it broke apart. Everything felt like very fine sand, and came off his fingers quite easily.

"From those drawings, It presume that a small flame, like one from a torch, is put onto the powder trail. That burns along the trail and then causes the whole thing to work. There was something like a string coming out of one of your drawings, but I do not think that is what you would want for this. This will have to work for now."

"Work?" Jeff asked.

"If it works, you'll be amazed." Anton said. "Do we have any more spare target boards?"

Jeff nodded and repeated the order to the waiting villagers. They seemed glad to be heading away from a series of instruments that were talked about in such a cryptic manner. While they waited for the target boards to arrive they lashed the Hand Cannons to the wooden horizontal stand, making sure that the powder did not spill out. Each cannon was given almost two feet in-between so they would not all go off at once from an uncontrolled spark or his fireball.

I seem to recall that some of the later cannons used essentially a plug of powder for the charge, that they could load it easily and more quickly than this. So they did not have to pour it like this...Still one step at a time.

The soldiers returned very quickly with the spare target planks, each of which had a large red circle in the middle.

"What's the range of this?" Jeff asked. "Is it longer or shorter than a bow?"

"Depends." Anton said as he placed the target only a few meters away. "From what I remember the larger cannons, the ones that I would like to have built one day, could hit something many times over the distance that an arrow could."

"This little metal ball?" He asked incredulously.

Anton nodded.

"A bigger one though for the larger cannons. You see how big the tip of an arrow is? And we both know how much damage that can do. This will be going a lot faster too. So I think you can guess what it'll do to a Goblin or Kobold."

Jeff took a second then nodded.

"Okay Jonathan. Are we ready to begin?"

Jonathan made one last check on the cannons before giving his nod of approval.

"Let's get behind the wall, just in case one of these decides to blow up."

All of them moved inside and onto the wall, the two soldiers closed the gate behind them. The few soldiers on the top were looking very confused, but followed their actions when they squatted down behind the wall.

"I suppose I should start with the closest one." Anton said, with no objections uttered.

He moved to a section where he could see through and summoned another small fire ball. The distance was not that great for him, especially as the fire balls could move much further than the lightning bombs before loosing their form and exploding. With a small push with his mana the small bead of fire towards the closest cannon.

Thankfully they were situated far enough apart that they would not all catch on fire at once. As the first bit of powder caught on fire, a few bright and enegetic sparks lept out from the trail and flew in all directions. Some landed along the next three Hand Cannons. Each tiny ember had enough energy to ignite the next line of powder.

Before he could say or think anything the thick blue smoke obscured his vision over the cannons as they all ignited at once.

A loud crack rang out and the first cannon fired, followed immediately by the sound of something hitting a piece of wood. Before they could say anything the next cannon fired, much louder this time. Then the third and fourth. His ears were ringing as he clasped his hands over them. Something in him was waiting for the fifth but nothing came. Silence overcame them.

He glanced around. Jonathan looked quite scared. He knew that he was working with over a dozen barrels of the blue powder very close by to a forge and smithy. They would need to find somewhere more appropriate. Jeff was doing better but he was rubbing his ears to try and get the ringing sound out. The other soldiers looked as scared as Jonathan.

As the seconds passed it was clear that the fifth cannon did not fire.

Anton patted himself down and stood up, followed by the other villagers.

"Guess we should have done more tests with the powder on its own." Anton mumbled. "I don't remember it being so volatile when Lester tested it."

“Fucking hell!” Jeff said, looking a mixture of anger and confusion.

"Well...That was a little more dangerous than I thought it would be." Anton said cheekishly as the others looked out at the cannons. "I didn't know that the powder was that dangerous. I don't know how dangerous it should have been."

"Maybe because it was compacted?" Jonathan offered, looking very nervous, "There were those tiny little beads in the powder, maybe that is why it did that?"

"I just was not expecting it to be so volatile. No wonder Lester only had a tiny bit of it and didn't want much to do with it."

Jeff laughed lightly as he looked out at the cannons. The first three were leaking blue smoke. The fourth had ripped itself to pieces, only bent out and curled fragments remained. The other four looked fine.

"I'm laughing, but do you see that?"

He pointed to the wooden targets. Anton had been rather more worried about the explosions, and bits of metal flying about, rather than if they had actually worked and struck the targets. The first cannon's target had a large dent, with the next three target boards had holes punched through.

"Let's... Let's go have a look." Anton offered.

The others were not so confident to go near something that had managed to make such a large volume of sound and smoke. While Anton, Jeff and Jonathan went down to have a look, the soldiers on the wall remained crouched down while the two that had gone with them seemed only confident enough to open the door and hide behind that.

Anton stopped a meter away from the cannons.

We are going to have to figure out a better system of getting the powder to work. If it did that here I do not want to know what it would do in a real combat situation. Probably just hurt our own side more than the enemy. We'll need to test out anything we buy before trying the big tests like this.

While Jeff and Jonathan moved to look at the wooden targets, Anton looked at the few bits of powder that remained.

Why did it spray out like that? I was keeping the fire ball as steady as possible.

He picked up a few grains of unburned powder and rolled it around in his hand. It had the same texture as a very fine sand, but when he squished it together in the tips of his fingers it changed into a oddly solid ball. Just like the small ones that had been present before he ignited the powder. With a roll of his fingers it broke apart again.

It changes physical properties when you compress it? And when it's ignited it spits out with enough energy to start the rest. If it's used for performance...then it might be a bit unstable. No wonder there wasn't that much in Qaiviel. Could be a reason... Still a good reason to work on a better explosive charge system. Not bad for our first attempt though, I suppose.

Anton looked at the remaining and un-ignited Hand Cannon. It did appear to have the compacted powder beads on the outside as well.

"Any idea where it went?" Jeff's loud voice caught his attention.

Both of them were either side of the wooden targets, their heads down and scouring the grass. They were looking for the iron shots. Anton looked over at the targets and could see something that looked like a tuft of upturned grass about a hundred meters away.

"I think that's where one of them landed." Anton said, pointing into the distance.

"Yeah. That could be it." Jeff said, as he started walking quickly towards it.

Anton turned his attention back to the wooden targets. Specifically, the holes smashed through them.

The first cannon did not have enough power to punch through the wooden board but left a serious dent. If that had been a person, shattered bones, damaged and bleeding organs would have sure to eventuated at the very least.

The second hole was quite large, compared to the other two. The third was only slightly smaller. The last hole, made by the exploded fourth cannon, was only slightly larger than the iron shot. Jonathan saw him looking as well, his face looking quite puzzled. Anton ran his finger on the inside of the wooden board.

"That iron ball travelled so fast that the wood did not have time to bend. It just went straight through."

Jonathan looked at the other boards, noting the way the wood splintered and compared to the previous two.

"Oh. I understand." He said. "What would happen if we tried that fifth one?"

Anton chuckled nervously.

"I don't really think we need to try it out. It blew this one apart." He patted the remains of the fourth cannon. "If we did I don't think there would even be the stand left."

"Found them!" Jeff cried out from far away, it appeared to be well over sixty meters.

He ran back towards them, looking quite cheerful in his stride. Perhaps he was starting to see the potential that Anton saw. Anton heard some movement on the wall. Many villagers and soldiers had gathered, all talking quickly and in hushed whispers. He did not need to use his magic to understand what they were talking about.

Guess this is another thing that will add to my public image. Some strange, mad magician that's trying to blow up Atros. Could be worse I suppose.

Nobody appeared brave enough to ask what they were doing. Anton endured the, oddly loud, whispers until Jeff made it back.

"These little things are bloody hot." He said, handing the iron balls over.

They were still very warm to the touch.

"This one dug itself nearly a foot into the ground." Jeff started to smile. "I can see why you wanted this. If someone was standing in the way if this... Not to mention how fucking scary that thing was when it actually did it. I would definately be running away, or at least thinking about it."

"I have no idea if they were meant to be that loud, but I'm pretty sure that it had quite a terrifying effect on anyone that had never seen or heard one before. I hope that Goblins will have the same thoughts."

He chucked an iron ball into the air and caught it again.

"We've got the basic principle down. Jonathan, you did remember to count how much powder you put into the second and third Hand Cannons?"

Jonathan nodded.

"Excellent. I think for now we'll use these Cannons for defence. It'll be too difficult to carry these around, especially as these are our first few. Maybe we could attach them to some sort of cart or something when we've got them sorted out properly."

"They are a little difficult to make." Jonathan admitted. "Now the Kobolds are gone I can focus on making them much more quickly. As well as making better ones."

Anton hummed as he furrowed his brow.

"What's wrong?" Jeff asked. "You don't want more of these things?"

Anton shook his head.

"It's not that. It's just that those barrels of powder are all we have. Quite possibly for several years, I mean, winters. If the man we bought them off is right, this might be all there was in the whole eastern side of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Maybe in the whole of Qaiviel."

Jonathan looked surprised.

"Those twenty odd barrels is it?"

Anton nodded. Both looked rather disappointed.

"But," Anton continued, "He did also say that this stuff is made in the Graterious Empire."

"Which is where you want to go next?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. See what we can get there as well as a regular supply of this powder. Maybe even a way to make it ourselves."

"So, what of these?" Jonathan asked, turning to the Hand Cannons.

"We'll keep them, and keep experimenting with the design. Make it larger and stronger. A longer barrel would help too. There were some that were almost as big as me, I think those-"

"Anton!" a loud voice yelled out from the gate. It was deep but clearly feminine, he had heard it nearly every day.

Verona, with Kal following her, emerged from behind the gate and out towards them. It appeared that none of the growing crowd was brave enough yet to approach.

"What... What was that!?" she asked, confusion clear on her face and her voice. "We heard four loud cracks coming from here-"

Anton did not miss the tiny wince Kal made at the mention of the sound. It could have sounded like a blast of lightning, something that terrified her still.

"And we find you three out here with.... What is that?" Verona pointed to the torn apart Hand Cannon.

"This is, or at least was, one of the special items that Jonathan had building for me. As you can see, it's a bit of a mess."

"Is it safe to do this where so many people can see?" Kal asked. "If it's meant to be a secret..."

"Think of this as a 'proof of concept' test." Anton answered.

Verona, Kal, Jeff and Jonathan looked quite confused.

"There is no point in pursuing something like this if we don't know if it will even work on the most basic level." Anton patted one of the intact Hand Cannons. "And this doesn't give away too much information that somebody could actually use in another kingdom or empire. Not that they could actually get here yet. Now, we can get Jonathan to continue designing better ones. Although you are right, Kal, we do need somewhere that would be a safe and secret practice area."

They were silent for some time before Verona snapped her fingers.

"You could use the area by the lake. Nobody goes that way and there's a ridge in the way so nobody still in Atros that could see what you are doing. Even if they were looking from the highest point in the village."

Anton smiled and nodded.

"I like it. Jeff, can we make that our testing area for new weapons?"

Jeff shrugged.

"I don't see why not. As Verona said, nobody goes there. So there shouldn't be a problem."

"There might still be wolves lurking about so we would need to bring quite a few soldiers, and archers, with us for protection."

“Ugh, those things.” Verona grumbled, shaking her head.

Kal looked a little disturbed as well, she knew what sort of wolves they were. Jeff nodded. He was still in favour of it. Anton turned to Jonathan.

"Sometime over the next few days, before we head off to Graterious, I'll make sure to help you figure out some of the... Better designs for these things. I've already got a few in mind."

"So do I." He replied. "It was rather fun to play around with these things. Spending all day doing the same thing over and over does get a little tiring. But, I would still like to do some normal smithing."

"I don't see any problem with that." Anton said, Jonathan looked very happy.

"The test is done." Anton said to Jeff. "And it did very well, all things considered. Jeff, can we get someone to take these back inside Atros. And get the people to carry on with their day, we don't want them gawking at us during the next bit."

Verona took a deep breath, trying to calm herself for what she knew would be coming.

"Right." Jeff waved to the two guards, still waiting nervously by the gate. "You two, we need this stuff back inside Jonathan's smithy."

The soldiers approached with some trepidation.

"It's fine so long as you don't get a fire near it. Come on..."

Jonathan unwound the fifth cannon and emptied its contents, putting the iron ball with the others and what powder he could save back into the barrel. There were quite a few granules present in the salvaged powder.

I must try and find out this stuffs' name and the name of the people who make it as soon as we arrive in Graterious. It'll be pretty weird if I just started asking around randomly. Less suspicion will be attracted if I already know the name but not exactly where to find it.

The guards, hesitant as they were, still followed their instructions. They handled each of the cannons with some trepidation, especially the exploded one. Jeff picked up the barrel while Jonathan handled the table. They both turned to Anton to see what he would say next.

"Verona and I are going to be doing some magical training. So we won't be free until some time later. Hopefully we'll stop for lunch."

Jeff and Jonathan looked at each-other before looking at Verona. She looked awkwardly back at them. They knew what he was talking about, even if they were going to be polite by not speaking it.

"Right. We'll see you both then."

Jeff waved at the soldiers on top. They took this as an order for the crowds to disperse. Some seemed quite glad that whatever Anton was up to had stopped.

I'll make a note about this at dinner, or lunch, saying that it was a weapons experiment. That might allay some fears as to what I am doing.

As the crowds disappeared it left Anton, Verona and Kal alone, again.

"So," Verona began, "Are you... Ready?"

"I guess I am. What about you?"

Verona scratched her head roughly.

"I... I suppose I'm as ready as I'm going to be." she said with a light shrug. "... Running away from it is not going to help. It's not just going to get better on it's own. It’ll probably piss of Jira as well, so she'll make the urges start to affect me when I'm not using the power."

She took a another deep breath.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Um, Kal?" Anton said.

"Yes?"

"This really isn't a thing where we want...company. Just in case."

Kal looked worryingly at Verona, who could only smile awkwardly back.

"I understand, Anton."

It did not feel right, though, just to cut her loose in a village where many people might still harbinger animosity to her kind.

"I don't really have that much for you to do, so-"

"Actually," she cut in, "I do have something that I could do. Or get, rather."

"What's that?" Verona asked. "I think that Sybil has the new Sherriff thing covered."

"Incidentally, who did you guys pick for the new Sherriff?"

"Dennis." Verona answered.

"And who's that?"

Verona looked rather embarrassed, that she had not explained a little further.

"He is Dana's brother. And he should be perfect for the position."

"That's right, she had a brother." Anton said as he searched his memories. "He came with using into the Yellow Goblin tunnels to rescure her. I didn't actually get his name then."

"Well, he's got all the right reasons to be a Sherriff." Verona continued. "Loyalty, he comes from here and knows what it was like before, when everyone was at each-others throats. So he's got a good reason to work hard and keep the peace."

"A good decision then." Anton smiled at Verona.

"Sorry Kal," Verona apologised, "We kind of stopped you talking there. You said that there was something you wanted to... Get?"

Kal nodded.

"Before... Before coming here... I kind of didn't say the truth when I said that I only had my daggers and clothes as my possessions."

Makes sense I suppose. Don't bring everything here just in case we were hostile and you had to run. Although, what else could you have? Food, or loot? Something else perhaps?

"What do you have out there?" Verona asked.

"I only have a few things. A few extra clothes and a few copper and silver coins that I have stolen over the winters. Also, I... Ugh..."

Kal looked very awkward as she struggled for words.

"It has been some of the best days of my life here, but I don't want to forget how to move in the wild without being seen."

She looked fairly embarrassed. Perhaps she did not want to imply that she thought that Atros might fall.

"That's fine.” Anton said with a smile, which she returned, “It's a good idea to keep in touch with your strengths. How far away is it? I take it's a cave or something?"

Kal looked out to the north east. There was mainly grassland, but in the distance there some tall trees on a ridge.

"It's a small cave. I should be able to get back before the middle of the day." she sounded very confident in herself.

"Alright." Anton said, starting to walk away from the wall. "You definitely know how to handle yourself. We'll be on that ridge over there. Just in case you run into trouble."

"Thank you Anton, Verona. I will return shortly."

She gave a slight bow to each of them and ran off. Anton did not miss the smile on her face as she passed. Even her gait looked like she was bursting with joy.

Verona walked up to him and wrapped her hand around his.

"You don't think she's going to run off, do you?"

"No." Anton replied flatly.

"Good, I don't think so either." Verona spoke happily.

Another second later and the apprehension returned.

"Let's do this." she said, leading them both to the small ridge, where they would start to figure out how to control her power.

------------

Hello.

Shorter chapter again, but it was easier to break it up, forflow and editing reasons.

First tests of the hand cannon with the blue explosive powder. They worked alright, although the powder behaves a little more differently than it does on earth. I also know that the more 'modern' cannons have a proper fuse but this is just the first attempt. Didn't want to drag it out either. They know what roughly works so they'll be working on improving that.

It also means that the cannons, or anything else like that, won't be ready for some time.

Next one will be from Kal's perspective, reflecting on how her world has changed dramatically in such a short time. The one after that will be Verona starting to control her power properly.

So, Thanks for reading!

Chapter 043 - Cave of the Past

Chapter 043:

The morning sun shone bright over the village of Atros, at least from where Kal was standing. She had said to Anton and Verona that she was going to collect the other parts of her belongings, which was in fact the main reason, but it was also to spend some time alone. Alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that she never imagined she would be having. Thin and dry grass crunched underneath her wrapped feet as she ran hurriedly to her hiding spot, though compared to her human friends she was essentially silent. Just like the breeze that whipped past her, drowning her mind in its pleasant rustling.

As she reached the final crest before the cave she found that her feet could take her no further. At least not without sorting a few things out in her head.

"I'm glad I didn't listen to myself before coming here." she mumbled aloud to nobody in particular. "If I knew what I was going to find, I would not have believed it. I would've thought it was a trap or crazy dream."

She stopped, taking another look back. From where she stood she could still see the village that she now called home. Everything about that place was bizarre, nothing like she had seen before. Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever imagined such a place could even exist. A hand clutched at the medallion that lay around her neck.

“I never thought you would actually answer my prayer.” she mumbled, looking towards her destination.

It was mostly out of habit that she prayed to the medallion and its goddess Tethra, especially as the thunder and storms roared overhead. Yet, for the first time in her life, it was answered. She took a deep breath and held her hands on her hips. No matter how much she fought it, a smile formed on her face.

“Everyone there is crazy.” she muttered with a smile, “Especially those two.”

'Those two' were Anton and Verona. Two of the most bizarre in the village of the bizarre.

Verona is...different. Despite being from Atros, she has no issues with talking with me...or even holding my arm. A beast-kin's arm. Or even hugging me. She goes well out of her way to make sure that I'm alright. When I first arrived, and I was exposed as a beast-kin, she did nothing hostile towards me. She lept to the defence but only because she did not know who was in the wrong. She didn't even think of me as something to be killed or hated.

Thinking about Verona gave her an unpleasant tingle at the base of her tail. While she was certain that Anton was interested in seeing what it looked like, he was not going to force her to show him. Verona was different. She had tried to grope her tail, almost groping her butt in the process, on her first day of living in Atros. She slapped her hand away hard in response but Verona just seemed to find it funny.

Kal shook her head as she continued towards the cave. She kept her hands hovering over her weapons but found herself grossly distracted by her thoughts.

That whole thing was...interesting. But it's not something I'm going to show to just anyone.

Though, that thought brought her mind to an uncomfortable person. One which made her mind become muddled in twisting and spiralling thoughts. There were many things about Anton that made her feel confused and strange.

He's...He's not from Atros, that much is certain, and everyone seems trusts him with an unwavering belief. I'm sure that wasn't always true, but he is now. He has near limitless power. More than enough to make mountains of gold in the Graterious Empire as a mercenar magey, and yet he is here, in the middle of nowhere and doing what he can to make to make a tiny village stronger...

But it was how he treated her that confused her the most.

Not once did he ever look at me with revulsion. My eyes, my ears, not my hands and claws. Not even when he saw my foot...

She could not finish her thought. The thought of having her feet exposed was utterly terrifying, and she had done everything she could to not show him. Yet when she did he looked at it with a curious gaze, like it was not repulsive to him at all. Her dreams often wandered to that moment. Especially when he was playing with the knuckles of her toes, completely uncaring that it was not human in any way, shape or form. The only reason he stopped was that he saw her red face. Thinking about it even now caused her to flush lightly, she was very thankful that nobody was around to see her like this. Those flushes, around him, had occurred more and more as time went by. It was getting harder to keep herself under control. But thinking more about it brought up another, disturbing possibility. One which caused her stomach to turn cold the more she thought about it.

He's a liar. But I don't really know why.

There were things that he said, phrases and expressions, that even she had not heard of. When she looked at him he knew that he had slipped up. Even if the others did not see it, she did.

It's the little things, like how he knew how to behave infront of Duchess Belinda, how he knew what a centaur was even though nobody else did. Some of the words too. And...he was kind to me even after I punched him in the gut...Though...

Thinking about that brought her a sense of shame and guilt. Though Anton said it was fine, as he had not explained what he was in Maxill for to her, it was probably a little too much to hit him so publicly. And that hard, she had put all her weight into it. The mere mention of slaves, and the thought of someone like him being involved in the ghastly flesh trade, made her blood boil. Taking another deep breath, she calmed herself down. Even remembering anything about slavery briefly was enough to make her angry. Her hands were already curled into fists and were ready to draw her daggers at a moments notice.

The entrance of the cave was not far away. It was hidden by some large bushes and trees, hidden amongst the small forest on the ridge. Only a freak accident, when she was desperately looking for shelter from the storm, allowed her to find it.

A niggling and gnawing feeling continued at the back of her mind. Something about his origins still refused to make sense.

On the way to Maxill, when I made that mushroom soup for the first time, I said that he wasn't from any land on this world.

He didn't deny it.

Then I said that he isn't even from this world.

He didn't deny it.

Is he? Is he from another world...A place so far away....It would explain a lot of things. Most importantly, how he doesn't seem to have any concern about me being a beast-kin. Perhaps his world, if he really does come from another, is more....tolerant of creatures like me. Or maybe that's just the way he is?

She looked back towards Atros, now nearly hidden from view.

But, who could I tell? Who could I ask without making someone angry and distrustful? And what could I possibly gain from it? So what if he is? He's...he's the only person that has given me a chance.

Thinking that brought a strange smile to her face, one that she did not really understand.

I will not let him down!

Before she realised it she had brought her hands into fists, but not in anger. She took another deep breath as she readied herself to approach the cave properly and carefully. The few times she had been in a true life or death situation had been when she was too eager or desperate to do something. A few times had seemed harmless enough, but those had landed her on her back, trying to fight off something that wanted her dead. Or worse.

The cave was well hidden from prying eyes, like an open mouth leading back into the ground. Several small bushes hid the front while the grasses adding to the secrecy of the cave. A strange sense of relief overcame her as she saw it, the place that she had called 'home' for some few days before journeying to Atros. Quite a few important things to her remained inside.

The grass outside appeared to be long and upright, nothing had trampled it flat by walking over it. As she took her first step to the edge of the steep slope into the cave, her body screamed for her to stop. She had done well, over the winters, to listen to that feeling. Instantly she lowered herself, pulling out a dagger and planting her other hand onto the ground for stability. One deep sniff at the air told her that something was wrong.

That's Goblin shit...quite a bit of it.

Staying low she slowly crept to the edge of the cave. A tiny change in the light around her told that her that she was doing something wrong. The shadow, cast from her body, would be entering the cave if she took another step.

Goblins might be stupid but they're smart enough to know that a shadow might mean a predator. I don't want to be attacked like I heard Dana was.

Moving as silently as she could she moved around until the sun was infront of her, and her shadow cast behind her and not into the cave. Next to her was a small pile of Goblin waste. It smelt as awful as it looked. At times like this she wished that she had a human sense of smell; far weaker and less debilitating when encountering such potent smells.

Nevertheless, she started to breath through her mouth to lessen the stench.

The quiver could be quite noisy as I move through, if I hit anything or spill it with the arrows bouncing around. They'll know that I'm here.

As she started to take off her bow, as quietly as she possibly could, she heard another noise coming from within the cave. For a terrifying moment she thought that she had been discovered already. With one hand she placed down the bow and quiver right next to her as she brought both her legs close to her body, so she could launch herself at whatever was coming for her. Scratches on rock, the sounds of pebbles and clods of dirt being forced loose, told her that it was coming towards her. Knowing that she should see the enemy first, just in case it was someone like her, even though it was almost certainly a Goblin.

The waiting was the worst part. Each breath seemed to last for eternity, waiting to see the something that accompanied the noise. Finally she saw it. A green, balding, diminutive head rose above the edge of the grass. It was unmistakably a Green Goblin. As she readied herself to pounce, she noticed something odd about it. It swayed slightly and its eyes looked clouded.

Is it drunk? I didn't have anything like that for it to steal.

Fearing how many more could still be lurking inside the cave, she waited until it's head was completely exposed to her sight. It bobbed from either side like it was floating in water. Its eyes had not yet seen her but she was not going to give it the chance. She readied the knife, lunged forward and grabbed it hard on the mouth with her free hand, pulling it towards her. Any sense of inebriation vanished instantly, its dull eyes snapping into focus, as its life was threatened.

Before it could squirm or scream she plunged the dagger into its neck, dragging it away from the cave and onto the grass. A few tiny bloody splutters and the creature was dead. She stabbed its neck and chest five more times to ensure that it was dead. There was virtually nothing holding its head onto its body as the blood pooled onto the grass.

There was no other sound coming from the cave. Kal glanced around, still finding nothing to indicate that she had been found out yet, and pulled the body further away from the cave. The nearly severed head almost came off as she dragged it away.

Just going to have a quick look over you, then I'll see about your friends.

The Green Goblin was almost identical to like the hundreds of Goblins she had seen over the many winters. Small and deformed green limbs that belonged on a bloated child-like body, with yellowed and chipped teeth and claws. Even though it was dead its beady eyes stared back into hers, utterly lifeless. She had seen that look before. So many times that she felt nothing at seeing it. Nonetheless, she focused on the goblin infront of her. She needed to be careful, and make sure it was not something more dangerous. Like a warrior or champion. The Goblin was only wearing a raggedy piece of animal hide around its waist. Its distended stomach hung over it and helped to keep it in place. Other than that, it was completely nude. With her blade she lifted it up the hide, and saw that it was a male.

It doesn't have any of the marks or signs that it's anything but a normal goblin.

She looked back up and saw no more goblins, of any colour, emerge from the entrance.

Greens would only go alone out like this if there are only a few. They never go alone if they can help it. That means under a dozen at most. If they were this drunk that they didn't see me they probably aren't listening too well either. This should not be too difficult. Hopefully.

There was nothing else to learn, or to steal, from the goblin, so she started back towards the cave. Even dimwitted creatures like them would soon look for the missing goblin. Leaning over the edge she saw no more Goblins lazing about. She picked up the bow and quiver, knocked an arrow, and descended into the cave.

The cave was not very large but the main cavern was around a corner, which obscured her vision. And theirs. Only the tiniest crunch of rocks followed her footsteps as she made it to the edge. Her worry about the quiver was unfounded, it barely made a sound. Part of her felt a little silly for thinking that.

Remember...Find out where they are and surprise them as best you can.

She took another deep breath and readied herself. Fighting was always terrifying, and this was no different.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this!

As she pulled back on her bow, she peered around, aiming the bow into the cavern. It was not as dim as she thought it would be. A few torches provided flickering orange light. Torches that she did not have. They must have been brought by the Green Goblins. Through the flickering light, and some staggering movement, she could count eight Green Goblins in the main cavern, all male and congregating on one side. She could tell they were male as the female goblins wore something more akin to a raggedy dress rather than the thin piece of fur the males wore.

This means that they're going to be looking for a woman to...breed with.

That thought made her want to vomit. Memories of her life in Seocuria came flooding back, vivid recollections of her early life. Blood curdling screams and cries for unaswered mercy pounded through her. It was almost enough for her to vomit despite the danger. She had to retreat back out of the way for fear of loosing the arrow early.

Don't think about that. They're not here. They're not here, and they don't know where I am.

She turned around the corner again. Most of the Green Goblins were sleeping or chatting amongst themselves. Apparently nobody had ever figured out what they were saying, or even if they were saying anything at all. One was looking vaguely in her direction. That gave her a little fright as she thought as she thought she had been spotted. She counted her breaths and readied her dagger but nothing came for her. Another quick glance showed the Goblin lying on its side asleep. She had been lucky that it was so tired.

But from what? Why are they all so tired and distracted?

A further glance showed that the floor shimmered near the Goblins and reflected the dull orange scenery, but it was not water. It was too thick and pooled in an odd way for water. A goblin stumbled back and stood in the puddle, dying the back of its heel red. Red with blood. But who's? As her eyes quickly became more adjusted to the dim light she could see more of the cave. On the far side of the cave, and seemingly untouched, were the small bags of loot that she had managed to build over the many winters. It was not much, but it was all she had.

Another goblin stumbled about from the huddle, this one falling down too. Though this one had a satisfied expression on its deformed face.

Kal felt her stomach turn over as she looked closer at the huddle. One of the Goblins was moving in a fast rhythm, over and over again. She knew what that meant, there was no mistaking it. There was another body underneath it and it lacked the green skin of the Goblins. It was a little hard to tell, but it appeared to be a very dark brown in colour, almost black. That's why it was so hard for her to spot it right away, especially when her attention was focused on the Goblins.

There was only one place where humans had that colour of skin. Seocuria.

Why is a Seocurian here? It's hundreds of miles from there. And quite far from the furthest village in Graterious, and they've certainly not been to Atros.

Her mental musing were stopped as she continued to look. There was not just one body. There were three. She had no idea if the others were men or women, but the Goblins paid them no mind. Either they were dead men or dead women. Neither of those could bear children and were on no interest to the Goblins now. Perhaps they would eat them later. Right now they were focused on their most basic instinct.

She watched the horrific scene, but could not determine anything more.

I can't learn anything else from here. I'm just going to have to go in.

Kal drew the bow and aimed it at the most alert Goblin, the one that seemed to be waiting its turn on the woman.

Kill them first. And then find out what three Seocurians are doing so far away from home.

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm her nerves and aim.

You can do this!

She loosed the arrow. It struck the Goblin in the back of its head, killing it instantly. The dead body slumped onto the dead humans. Only then did the others realise something was wrong. Kal readied another arrow and loosed it straight away, killing the Goblin next to the dead one. Another two were killed before they even started moving towards her. She dropped the bow and pulled out both daggers. Wielding both daggers, in what she had been told was a 'reverse grip', and lunged forward.

With only four Green Goblins remaining, still dazed and stunned, it was not much of a fight. She pushed away their crude wooden weapons and stabbed them in the back of the neck before moving onto the next one. It only took a few heartbeats, her own sense of time made it seem to last only as long as a flicker of light in a droplet. When she stopped her heart was racing.

It took a few moments to calm herself properly. Before investigating the bodies more she turned to each Green Goblin, even the ones struck by the arrows, and stabbed them repeatedly in the head and chest. She did not one of them to feign death and strike her later.

Blood covered her cloth wrappings. Instead of being disturbed that the wetness of the blood had already soaked through, it was the reaction she was expecting of the people at Atros that concered her the most. Even in the dull torchlight she could see that her hands, legs and some of her cloak, was covered in blood.

I wonder what they'll say? Hopefully they'll wonder what happened...

Her thoughts drifted to the three human bodies in the cave.

Though that might change once I figure out what they are here for...

She picked up a torch and walked closer to the human bodies, holding the torch close to them. Up close they were undoubtedly from Seocuria. On her travels she had never seen anyone with skin darker than theirs. Spending her child years in that Empire made it impossible for her not to recognise the dark skin as anything but Seocurian.

Two of them were men, their faces were torn apart while their jaws hung loose. Each had terrible wounds covering there body that looked to be a mixture of old and new. The other, where the Goblins had focused their attentions, was a woman. She was not fairing any better, with her guts barely held in by a few thin pieces of skin. The Green Goblins were never nice to their captives, more-so than the others of their kind. On their faces were white line tattoos that ran from their nose, along their cheek bones to the edge of her face then to the base of her chin. Several other white dots ran above and below their eyebrows. She knew the marks.

“Slave hunters..” she mumbled aloud. “And poor ones, if this-”

The woman spluttered, Kal took several paces back in surprise. She made sure both of her blades were held firmly in her hands as she hesitantly approached.

“Help...me.” the woman begged weakly.

It seemed that it took everything she had to stay awake, her eyes rolled around in her head as they tried to focus on Kal. How long had this woman been forced to stay here like this?

“Why?” Kal asked, taking another step forward.

“Please.” Her voice was now a whimper.

A hand, and a bloody stump, tried to push her spilling guts back in. Kal took a deep breath and sheathed one of her blades. With her free hand she reached into her waist and pulled out a few dried pieces of Shimmer Soral. She always kept some, and had been able to build her collection again after taking it from the Kobold camps. It would not save her, but would keep her alive for a bit longer. Long enough for Kal to figure out what to do with her.

She lent down and pushed the leaves into her mouth, the woman's intact hand pushed it in further as she weakly chewed on the leaf. Every bite seemed to restore some measure of life to the woman. By the third leaf she looked a lot better, comparitively. Well enough to speak without passing out.

Kal gave her a fourth leaf and sat on the other side of the cave, near her own supplies.

“Can you talk?” Kal asked.

The woman shuffled backwards so her head rested against the cave wall.

“Yes. Thank you.” she said, her voice still trembling through weakness.

Kal pursed her lips. She pressed her hand onto her small bags. Everything felt the same. At least the Goblins had not pilfered her loot.

“What's a Seocurian doing so far from the Empire?” Kal asked.

“I need...help.” the stump pointed at her horrendously wounded stomach.

Kal sat next to her goods, brought her knees up under her chin and watched the woman.

“If you tell me who you are and why you're here, I'll get my...” she flexed her toes, almost breaking out into a smile, “Friend, to help you. He's a devout follower of the Old God, Tethra, the goddess of prayer. He can fix your wounds.”

She reached in a pulled out the silver medallion, a final gift from her mother, just enough so the woman could see the bright reflection. A hint of recognition came over her face as her eyes looked from the reflection to her face.

“So, your kind do exist.” the woman said.

Kal put the medallion back underneath her cloth wrappings. She let out an involuntary sigh as she looked back at the woman.

“Your eyes....nobody could miss those. On a human face.” she said weakly. “A half-breed.”

“So, what's your name?” Kal asked.

Something in her mind told her to follow something more akin to Anton's line of talking, like with Duchess Belinda.

Don't just answer everything they ask, make them work for it.

Kal said nothing as she stared at the woman. Whomever she was, she knew that she was dying. Her eyes knew that she had to answer at least some of Kal's questions if she had any hope of getting help.

“My name is...Farida. And these are...”

She looked at the bodies.

“It doesn't matter now.”

“You're a long way from Seocuria.”

The woman moved herself up further against the wall.

“I think you already know that, half-breed.” she stared into Kal's eyes.

“Which clan are you from?” Kal asked.

The woman did not answer.

“And why were three of you so far away from home?” Kal asked again. “Or even from Graterious?”

“Travelling...to Qaiviel.”

“There are easier ways to get there, especially if you are in Seocuria. You could head through the Bebbazzar Kingdom and then through to Qaiviel. That avoids the Deweth clans and this wilderness.”

Kal looked at the dead Green Goblins littering the floor. Farida shook her head.

“Bebbazzar has changed over the last few winters.” She weakly explained. “They're becoming a very paranoid people. Everybody is searched at the border crossings-”

“That's the way it has always been.” Kal answered, sounding rather annoyed.

Farida took another large pained breath.

“The countryside is filled with bandits. Far more than usual. First, when we tried to go through there were eight of us. Then we got ambushed.”

If three of you managed to get ambushed and slain by these Green Goblins, it's no wonder you lost to some bandits.

“They took us prisoner. Their leader tried to recruit us, always-” Farida coughed up some more blood, Kal moved over and gave her a few more Shimmer Soral leaves to help her ease her pain. “Talking about the labourers and workers of the Kingdom. How they should rise up and overthrow the King and his followers. That those that created things and tilled the soil should be the rulers. Not those that sat in palaces and mansions abusing their efforts and lives. Some crap like that.”

Interesting. Anton might know something about this. If he is from another world, perhaps something like that happened in his? If he's willing to accept me, who knows what happened there.

“So, you decided to head the other way, through the deadly remains of the Kar Kingdom? Full of goblins, beasts and creatures that only the Old Gods know about?”

Farida looked rather uncomfortable.

“I can see now that it was a terrible decision.”

Kal nodded. Her eyes were continuing to become more adjusted to the dim light. Underneath the leg of the Seocurian to the right were several sheets of old and worn paper. Some blood had leaked onto it, but it looked like it was still readable. She moved forward towards the pieces of paper, Farida tried to stop her but no words came out, only more blood.

“What are these?” Kal asked, lifting up the leg to free them.

Farida refused to answer. Kal held them close to the torch. While she did not have a perfect understanding of how to read words, she was certain it was better than most people in the village. She guess that only Anton, and Bertram and Sybil, had better reading skills. She didn't even know if Verona could read, a strange hint of pride swelled up inside of her.

It was crushed when she turned her attention to the sheets of paper.

“Bounties...” Kal mumbled.

Farida looked like her heart would stop at any second from shock.

“Who are these?” Kal asked.

“Criminals.” she answered. “We are, were, bounty hunters.”

Each piece of paper had a drawing of the hunted person and how much they were worth and to whom.

Kal hummed in agreement. “Most are these are for Bebbazar people, and a few from Qaiviel. Still a long way to come for....”

She flicked through them, stopping cold when she saw one at the bottom of the pile. Unlike the others, filled with angry and scarred men and women, this one was softer. But it was not a human. It had distinctive horizontal cat-like eyes and long furred ears. One of which was torn off half way.

It was Kal's.

“Why do you have this?” Kal asked angrily, showing her the paper.

Farida refused to answer.

“Fine.” Kal grabbed her own bag from the other side of the cave and stormed towards the cave entrance. “Die here then.”

She only made a few steps before an angry cry rang out.

“Wait.” she begged, “We needed the money. So we took every bounty that we could find. We never had a hope of catching the highly rewarding ones.”

“Catch any?” Kal returned to her previous position but remained standing.

Farida shook her head. Kal felt a shiver run down her spine. It had been almost twenty winters since she escaped Seocuria and almost nine since she last saw a hunter with an allegiance Seocuria. Knowing that somebody was still after her was terrifying.

“There's a bounty on me?” Kal asked, almost chuckling as she looked at her own wanted paper. “I thought they would have given up by now. Thought that I was dead after so long.”

Farida shook her head. She groaned angrily as another coughing fit brought up more blood. She knew that her chances of living were now very slim.

“The bounty still stands. Three hundred gold coins.”

Kal coughed at the mention. She had no idea that someone wanted her so bad, though she knew what it was for.

I'm probably the oldest living Half-breed to have existed. They'll keep the bounty open until they're certain that I would have died from age. At the very least they'll want me as part of a collection. Or worse.

Another thought crept up into her mind.

Anton was talking about needing more money...He wouldn't. Would he?

The terrifying thought flashed through her mind. Of her kicking and screaming in vain as she was handed off to some Seocurian slaver, while Anton checked over a chest full of gold. It was horrific and made her want to be sick.

No! He wouldn't do that...He wouldn't! Get that out of your head!

Kal shook her head and focused back on the wounded woman.

“And you travelled all that way on the hope that you would find me here, in the wilderness?”

Farida remained silent.

“If you want me to save you, you're going to explain.”

“There was a rumour in Graterious. We...” she looked either side to her dead companions. “We were trying to enter the Red Company-”

“How did you fail that?” Kal asked, a uncharacteristic smugness in her voice. “They take anyone so long as they've got a bit of money or skill.”

Farida scowled angrily.

“We didn't have enough of either. That's why we tried to work the bounties, but my companions spent anything we made. It was only lowly criminals, poachers and things like that. But, as we travelled to Porswea, we heard a rumour about someone that was prowling around the smaller villagers. Something about it, the way the person was behaving and dressed... it just sounded like a runaway slave.”

“And you thought you would track me down, and get me all the way back to Seocuria so you could get the reward?”

“It took us three winters to track you down, even vaguely.” Farida continued, not acknowledging what Kal had just said. “It became an obsession. The little hints and bursts of information became maddening for us. We heard nothing about you for some time, only that you had headed here, to the remains of the Kar Kingdom. Do you know how well we could have lived with all that money? For over twenty winters we would have been able to live the good life without any worries.”

The blood loss was starting to make her delerious, her eyes no longer had the focus they once had.

“I didn't head this way on purpose, but the further away I got from the larger cities the easier it was for me to hide and travel. I guess it just sort of happened that I came this way. It also stopped people from finding out that I'm...well.”

Kal frowned deeply.

“So, you just wandered the wilderness until you stumbled into this cave, and were ambushed by nine Green Goblins?”

“Yes.”

Kal folded her arms.

“That sounds...extremely unlikely. Especially with how easily these Goblins dealt with you. For you to have been able to track me.”

“My brothers were the trackers,” she nodded either side.

“For all the good it did them.”

Farida said nothing, barring her teeth as she pushed her struggled to keep herself together. The Shimmer Soral seemed to be starting to wear off. The immense pain was starting to carve through her face.

“How did they do it?”

“Can you please help me now?” she pleaded.

“Are those bags yours?” Kal asked as, pointing to some bloodied bags next to one of her dead companions.

“Y...Yeah...” she looked desperately at Kal as she walked towards her. “Please, I'm dying!”

“I know.” Kal said dismissively.

She bent down and picked up the bag, fending of a desperate swipe from Farida. Kal took another step back, kicking away another swipe.

“My friend...one, one of my friends.” Kal began, rummaging through the bag, “I actually have friends now. He took a chance with me. Even though I'm a half-breed, and every human I met before treated me with hatred and disgust. But he...he didn't.”

She found herself smiling. She opened the bag fully. It seemed to be food supplies and a few more copper coins. There was nothing in there to indicate how they knew how to follow Kal. The absence of information was most disturbing.

Was it luck that they found here? Or was it a vision? I guess I feel like Anton does; not knowing anything and having to try and guess my way through it.

“He gave someone like me a chance. But,” she looked towards Farida, “He would also give someone like you a chance. At the very least the chance to explain yourself. He might heal you... and save you. Then you might even live happily in Atros. For a time. Then if we to head to Graterious, what's to say that you wouldn't find some people from the Red Company, tell them of my bounty, gather them together to get me....to take back 'Home'?”

Kal put down the bag and pulled out her knife.

“Please.” Farida begged, trying her best to shuffle backwards, “I swear that I would never do that.”

“Would never?" Kal snarled, "You were going to capture me and bring me back to Seocuria for money. If you could find me. You...”

Kal left her statement open. Farida knew what it meant.

“Please.” she begged again, trying in vain to crawl away.

“You'll bleed out before long. Those wounds are too much for me to deal without magic. But, I'm not going to let that happen to you.”

She turned to face Farida.

“I'm-” was all that she could say before Kal plunged the blade into her throat.

A few spluttered coughs and she was dead. Her wounded limbs fell limp and the few intact muscles on her stomach weakened. Blood started to pour out, in great quantities, as her muscles failed. Kal took a step back and wiped the blood off her dagger onto her sleeve. Her cloth wrappings were already so wet it took her a few goes to get it remotely dry.

“I'm...” Kal could not finish.

She was not sorry, even though she felt like she should say it, yet she could feel or say the words.

Kal rolled the bodies to the side and looked for anything valuable.

Might make this whole thing a little easier for me to explain. Or at least worth it.

Underneath Farida was another small bag. This did not look like it had been found by the Green Goblins. They were far more likely to be interested in the warm body on top of it. In it was another small stash of coins, twenty silver and a few copper, as well as something that looked like a lump of-

“Ugh.” Kal groaned as the rotten fruit burst and released its pungent innards.

She threw it to one side, wiping her hand onto the pants of one the dead men.

“Not too bad.” she said aloud, dropping the bag full of more rotten food, “Anton will be impressed.”

She looked back at the three bodies.

“Why didn't you head south?” she asked aloud. “That's the way I was heading once I left the Empire.”

She tore through the remaining bags but found nothing of value. Feeling rather disappointed and annoyed, she grabbed the wanted posters and used the torch to burn them. She did not even want the thought to enter anyone's mind. The extra light from the burning paper caught something odd near the other body. Near the wall was something purple, with a hint of the same green of her eyes. It gave her pause as she continued to look.

On closer inspection it was a piece of flesh. She reached over and picked it up. It was as cold as the cave surrounding them.

She felt and studied it in her hand. It was about the size of her arm, slightly tapered at one end, it had large smooth scales covering the outside, with a set of two bright green scales running along the top. The base of the meat looked like it had been ripped free rather than cut and there appeared to be bit marks along it. Even though it had been almost twenty years, there was no way that she could mistake this for something else.

It was the end of a beast-kins tail. A Cobra beast-kin to be precise.

Guess that explains how they were able to find me. They've always had a good sense of smell...taste, I think they called it. Said it could linger for days or for a whole season if it was strong enough.

She glanced at her bag and took a sniff. It smelled like it normally did, but perhaps that was the problem.

Maybe there was just enough for a good Cobra beast-kin to follow me. They might have only been a few days behind me at some points. Guess heading to Atros has was good for more than one reason.

She looked closer to where she found the tail. There were some gnawed bones around it. Not enough for a full body but too many to have belonged to the wounded Seocurians. The Green Goblins looked like they had eaten the poor beast-kin for food. While she felt nothing like guilt or remorse for the three Seocurians, she did feel something for the Cobra beast-kin.

“A slave, forced to serve, hunt and kill for their master.” She placed down the remains of the tail in the center of the room. “I'm sorry that you died so far away from your family. From those that cared for you.”

She was sure that the Cobra's, along with all other beast-kin, had some sort of burial rites but she did not know theirs. At least if it was left here some creature would come along and make use of it.

Kal took another deep breath and took stock of what she had gathered. She rummaged through her bag, now filled with whatever she deemed valuable.

“I have about forty silver and thirty copper coins.” Kal grimaced slightly. “That's not much compared to what Anton had in that little box I was protecting. But it's something.”

As she bounced the purse, hearing the wealth it contained, brought a smile to her face.

“I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”

She took one final look at the cave, which had been her home for some days, and opened her mouth to say something but could not think of anything. There was nothing to say.

Leaving the bodies behind, she crawled out of the cave and back into the light and air. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the fresh air. Though, she could still smell the blood on her clothes.

“If Anton, or Verona with her blood power, see the blood on my clothes they're going to ask what happened.” she glanced down at her hand cloth wraps. “I could say that it was Goblins, but they'll want to look into it, to make sure there aren't any more lurking about...”

Kal looked back down into the cave.

“I...I don't want them to see this.”

She put down her bag and pulled out several long clean pieces of cloth, the same colour as those covering her. There was no second cloak, she would not be able to hide that. Removing her cloak would attract even more questions.

As she started to unwrap her bloody clothes it gave her another thought.

“If someone still wants me, does that meant that I'll have to wear some sort of mask when we head to Graterious and then to Seocuria? I do enjoy the wind on my skin.”

Kal sighed loudly, not that there was anyone to hear. It was something she would have to plan out carefully when talking to Anton. She did not want to allude to what had happened here. She looked up at the bright sun in the sky. As she looked up she started to think about Verona had said the other day.

What would I actually say to my mother? After so long, could I just say hello? I...I might need to ask for help on that.

That brought a smile to her face.

Now I have people that I can ask.

----------------

Hello everyone.

Got a Kal centric chapter. Wanted to show how she behaves on her own and how she considers the people close to her. She's figured out that Anton's not from their world, but doesn't know what to do with the information. As well as how she deals with someone that might be a threat to her fragile new home.

Met the first Seocurian, a slaver hunter, and found out what they look like.

Also a bit of what the Cobra Beast-kin look like. Well, a bit of one.

There's also the problem with Kal being a very old half-breed and therefore valuable to certain people, that makes her a 'wanted' person throughout the rest of the world, so that's going to cause some issues in the future. When I was writing this, I thought about the potential that not all of the slaves are hateful of the system. Some could work with the system for a better life, like possibly one that travelled hundreds of miles as a sort of enhanced traker.

A tiny bit of information about the Bebbazar Kingdom, the one that really hasn't been spoken about. Only in so far as that they are going through a sort of communist revolution on the eastern side of the kingdom.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and thanks for any and all donations!

Chapter 044 - A short and Bloody Trial

Chapter 044:

Verona stopped when they arrived at the top of the ridge. From there they could still see Atros, even though it looked so lonely and isolated in the endless grasslands. Even more so, flanked to the north by Mount Aspire and to the west was the forest that seemed to span the horizon. She could also see the lake to the south, and the strange square pillars that rose up from the waters. To the north of where they stood there was a small forest on top of the same ridge that ran to the mountains. That was where they had both seen Kal run towards.

I'm sure she'll be fine. She has spent nearly every day of her life living in the wilds. Heading into a cave, a cave that she already knows, would be nothing compared to that. I couldn't do something like that.

A cough brought her back to the present. Anton looked at her worryingly, it was clear on his face that he was very concerned about her state of mind. That made her feel a little warm inside. Though, if she was honest with herself, she was worried about herself too. She had come here to try and begin to understand her powers and not to just gaze off into the distance. Anton would be the one to tell her that they could not waste time to get herself under control.

"Sorry, Anton," she began, scratching the back of her head while smiling as reassuringly as she could, "Just got a little bit distracted. I'm fine...."

She chuckled nervously, Anton's face filled more with worry.

"I guess that, when it comes down to it, I'm actually got quite nervous."

That elicited a smile from Anton. Did he appreciate that she was being honest with herself, and not pretending to be pointlessly brave? Possibly. This was nothing to be pointlessly overconfident about. Her future was about to be decided.

Verona clapped her hands and readied herself to begin.

“Okay. Well, first I'm going to need some blood.”

“Right.” Anton answered, moving forward. “Just so I know, so I can make sense of this, there's nothing...different right now?”

Verona took a moment before answering. She searched within herself, looking for the urge for carnage and blood, but found nothing.

“Nothing yet.” she answered. “I'm not using my power though.”

“That's good.” Anton said as he moved forward. “I'll need you to tell me what's happening at every stage of you using your power. I can't tell what you're feeling.”

“What do you mean by stage?...oh, like each step of me using my power.” Verona chuckled. “I think I'm getting used to some of the things you say from your world. I can get a little bit lost when you're talking quickly and those words just get thrown in.”

Anton smiled, offering his hand to Verona.

“It is a little bit hard to not use those.” Anton explained. “Having used them for many years, it's a bit hard to just stop using them.”

Years...that's a winter? Yes? Yes.

“I get'cha. It's just like a reaction. Like when the sound of metal clanging makes everyone get ready to fight.”

Anton nodded slowly.

“Basically. So, how much blood do think you'll need? It probably shouldn't be too much this time.”

Verona lowered her spear so Anton could give her some blood. Before it was not a problem for her to get blood from Anton, it was like something that had to be done for her to use her power. Like money changing hands for goods. Now that there were issues with her blood power, she felt a little ill about using Anton as her source of blood. Just in case something went wrong. Just in case she went...crazy.

Anton could see hesitation and fear on her face. He ran the palm of his hand over the edge of the spear, the spear that never seemed to dull no matter what she cut with it, drawing out a few drops of blood. A little wince of pain flashed over his face. How he was able to do this, over and over again, without worrying about the pain was odd. He was just that odd.

She took a deep breath, to calm herself for what was to come, and started to light the fire within her. A warm sensation ran through every part of her body. It was not unpleasant, in itself, but now it felt more insidious. Her exposed skin, those with the marks running over it, glowed bright red, even those underneath her clothing. She knew that her eyes glowed red, not that she could see anything different. Anton did not seem to mind. That was a little odd, but reassuring that he said or made no reaction to it. It made her feel a little bit more normal and she could relax a little easier.

Focusing her mental effort onto the blood coming from Anton's hand she started to draw it towards her. She held out one of the small clay pots and directed the blood into it. After half filling it she stopped drawing up fresh blood.

“I think that will be enough for now.” Verona said as she gently pulled away the spear.

There was still quite a bit of blood still on the red crystal, the easiest way to see it was the bright sheen from the blood. She focused her power and took that into the small clay pot as well. Through her power she could still feel the blood on Anton's hand, like it was a shadowy extension of her body. She wanted that gone when she started to practice.

“Right.” Anton said.

She watched his wound start to heal itself, the droplets of blood disappearing. It felt like it was water being drawn into the dry dirt, disappearing to somewhere beyond her control.

“So...what do you think I should do to start with?” Verona asked as genuinely as she could. “Should I just move it about for a little while? Or do you think I should try making it into the crystal shapes?”

Anton rubbed his hand through his bearded chin. His face was the same one as when he thought deeply. His eyes were focusing on something far away and she knew that she could pull odd faces and he would not realise. That brought a little smile to her face as she watched him think.

“Perhaps...we should start with the basics.” Anton replied, looking straight at her. “The basics are always going to be the most important. In this case, I think it would just be able to move it about, split the blood into parts and reform it. There'll be chances to experiment with the other forms of your power a little bit later.”

Experiment?...I'm guessing that means roughly what I'm doing right now; trying my power out in a controlled way so we can figure out what's happening. Just another strange word from his strange world...

“'kay. Let's get this thing-”

“Hang on.” Anton stopped her.

“What's wrong?” Verona did not like being stopped like that. Was something changing on her already?

“Your presents.” Anton said, pointing to her barrette on her head. “If something goes a bit wrong...I don't really want to see them get damaged.”

Anton trailed off at the end, he was a little embarrassed that he was suggesting that he was more concerned about the barrette and chain than her. She knew that was not the truth, and while she was tempted to tease him for the mistake, she refrained.

“Yeah, though you could have said it better.” she could not help but make a little jab at him.

Anton smiled bitterly, though it faded when Verona smiled herself. She walked towards Anton and turned around.

“I still don't know how the Barrette clips onto my hair, or how the chain holds my hair back like that. Could you show me this time?”

She looked up at him, tilting her head backwards, and received a smile. Anton took his time and explained how he put them on her. She guessed how it worked but she just wanted him to do it. There was something about his fingers running through her hair.

With both of her presents off, and safe at Anton's side, she returned to her previous spot. She focused and drew up the blood, forming a small ball infront of her. It always felt a little strange to look at it like this, knowing that it once belonged to someone else. Why she could not use her own blood was still a mystery, but an easily solvable one when she thought about it; using lots of your own blood would make you very weak, though it did not explain why she could not use a little at the beginning of a fight. That menat she always had to have weapons and be skilled enough to score a hit or at least travel with someone else.

She shook her head to focus herself on the task ahead. She continued to focus on just moving the ball every so slightly, feeling out what she had to do in order to make it move.

“Okay. I can do this with no problems.”

“And you don't feel anything strange?” Anton asked.

Verona cocked her head to see around the floating blood sphere to Anton.

“I need you to tell me everything that you feel, anything that's odd. I can't really tell just by looking at your face.”

Verona nodded.

“Right now, I don't feel anything odd. I have this sort of warm feeling traveling through me, but that's the same that I always have when I'm using my power...at least when my marks start to glow.”

Anton nodded. He mumbled something to himself but refused to elaborate.

“I started to feel excited, when the battle was well underway. Blood and dead Kobolds was flying everywhere. Not excited that we were winning the battle against the Kobolds but that there was so much blood. I don't know if just using it will have the same effect. But...”

“Only one way to find out. Can you start moving it around for a bit? Tell me how you feel when you are moving this small amount.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Verona lay down her spear on the grass. She was sure that Anton would have said something about that in a moment, something about focusing everything on controlling and exploring her power and not putting mental energy into holding the spear. A tiny nod from Anton told her that it was probably the right thing.

Using both hands she started to move the small sphere again. It began to move slowly with slight pushes of her mana, something that felt akin to a 'heaviness' that filled her body. It was only a feeling, it did not actually slow her down but it felt as if it should. When she stopped pushing in mana the sphere stopped. It remained hovering where she pushed it and did not fall to the ground. Some mana was still flowing into it, tiny compared what she used to move it, but it was there and noticeable. Over the next little while she moved it faster and faster infront of her. Sometimes she would make it move incredibly fast then bring it to a halt. That used far more mana than slowing it down over a longer distance. It was almost like a muscle.

“I can move this single one just fine.” she told Anton, moving the blood sphere in a circle infront of her. “Controlling this one piece feels as easy as breathing. I was able to control hundreds of little blood shards during the battle.”

“But did you have the same precise control over them like you do this one?” Anton asked.

Verona searched her memory of that day, trying very hard to focus on how she used her power and not the slaughter that was surrounding her.

“Not, not this well.” she answered. “I could make them behave as I wanted to, but it was hard to keep them all together like I originally wanted. Eventually I just held the shards roughly together and made them follow me as I ran, I didn't send them forward with this much control. That's what made all those scratches on the wall.”

“It's pretty clear to me that one is no problem for you. How about if you split it?”

Verona nodded and focused her find. It was a little difficult to split them quickly, like she was trying to cut something by throwing a blade at it and hoping it would be cut into two even halves. When she had split her blood before, when she ran the shards along the outside of the wall, she had only made them roughly the same size. There was no time to worry about making them perfectly identical. This time, for the purpose of this test, she took her time and effort to split it into ten equally sized spheres. Now that there were ten, there was also ten times the mana being used to keep them together. It was not as much as she needed to move them about but she felt the increased drain on her mana. With those formed she moved those about like she had done the single.

It took her a bit longer to get them to all behave like she wanted to at the same time, but she did. It was a lot more difficult than just making them into a shape and then throwing them all forward. To control them all at once, when they were heading in different directions, took skill and effort. Eventually she had them following one another like a snake through the air, forcing them out in random directions, and then reforming them into the snake-like pattern.

Anton's chuckling brought her back to the present.

“It looks like you're really enjoying this.”

“Am I?”

She brought a hand up to her face and realized she was smiling. She was having fun, like this was a normal part of her that she was continuing to explore its potential. As if the blood spheres were dancing in place of her.

“I guess I am.” she said with a chuckle.

“And nothing odd yet?”

Verona searched within herself but could not feel anything yet. Not the shiver of excitement nor of the desire to cause ever more destruction. Nor the desire to drink the blood for the disturbing sexual pleasure and release.

“Not yet.” Verona answered truthfully, Anton nodding in return. “I can move these little blood balls with no issue, but this isn't the same...um...surroundings, to when I had my 'urges'.”

“We'll come to that in a little bit. Maybe.”

Verona threw him a quizzical brow. It would have looked quite odd to him, with her glowing red eyes and body.

“Just bring it all back into one sphere for me.”

She did so, with the tiniest push of mana. As each ball coalesced into the larger, the amount of mana she needed to control it diminished until it was the same as when she had started. As the last piece joined the whole she opened her mouth to ask the next stage when she felt something. It was just a flicker of something and then it was gone. Whatever it was, it was gone before she barely had a chance to explore it. This was not something to ignore.

“I just felt something.” she said, keeping her gaze of the blood sphere.

“Okay...” Anton trailed off.

Verona shook her head. He would need a bit more of an explanation than that.

“I don't know what it was. When I reformed the blood sphere, something just flickered through the back of my mind, and then it was gone again. I have no idea what it was. And it's not there now.”

Anton nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay. I would like for us to continue, but only if you're still comfortable.”

Verona took a moment before nodding.

“We need to keep going.” she said definitely, but was not sure to whom she was really talking to. “It was only there for a flicker and then it was gone. I need to keep going if I'm to get control of this power.”

Anton nodded again, motioning her to continue.

“I use the crystal style of my power the most, so I suppose I should try out that now.”

As there was no objection from Anton she decided to continue. Focusing her mind on the floating blood sphere, she started to make the blood crystallize, as if a part of her was forming into the crystal. The sphere shrunk barely perceptibly as it hardened, tiny little cracks formed along the outside. A part of her wondered if she was focusing to hard and that was what was causing it. She relaxed her effort slightly and the sphere too seemed to relax. Now the crystal sphere floated infront of her.

“I don't feel anything,” Verona told Anton, “And this is what I usually do when I'm using my power; get it all into one big ball and then break it apart and into what I want it to be.”

“Maybe the blood power is meant to keep it as a fluid.” Anton offered, rubbing his bearded and looking down in thought. “Since blood is meant to be a liquid, perhaps changing it into a crystal and keeping it in that state might be a part of the problem?”

Verona mussed on it, but could not say one way or the other.

“Though it does seem easy to use it as a weapon.” he added quietly.

“I...I don't know. Using it this way just feels more natural, or easy. I just have one big lump to move rather than-”

Something shivered up her spine. It felt different than the fleeting feeling she had just felt before, and it was nowhere near the level that she felt during the battle with the Kobolds, but it was definitely there.

“I just felt something.” Verona said aloud.

Anton looked concerned at her.

“It was like a shiver that ran down my spine.” Verona began to explain. “That's what I felt when I started to get the 'urge' from the fighting. Just a tingle of joy and excitement. Then I sort of started to loose myself to the sensation. Only drinking the blood shook me out of it.”

“But nothing like...what happened later?”

He asked as delicately as he could, but there was no hiding what he meant.

“No. That would have sent me into spasms, and I would have fallen down. You couldn't have missed it.”

Anton fought down a flush and so too did Verona.

“Anyway,” she coughed to correct herself, “I don't feel it now, or in the time we've just been talking.”

“I guess the next thing is to try using the blood crystal in the same way that you used the liquid. Try and keep an eye out for it.”

“Right.” Verona nodded.

She focused and forced the crystal into a flat shape like the head on her spear. The edges were as rounded as she could manage with the power, while keeping it relatively the same shape, so she would not harm either of them too much should she loose control. Thinking about loosing control reminded her of the large sharp plate creation she had made during the battle with the Kobolds at the Lake. It had done very well in a straight line but when she tried to turn it, it had dug in and spun wildly away.

Later, once I've got my power under control, I'll see about finding out what happened there. But for now, Focus!

She took another deep breath and began to move the blood crystal. Controlling the shard was a little easier compared to the liquified blood. Mainly because it retained its shape and she did not have to focus as much of her mental energy, or mana, into keeping it in shape.

Quite some time passed, as she found it just as easy to control as before. There were no shivers of excitement or the desire to drink blood. Part of her wanted it to happen now, so at least it would be over with.

Anton brought her out of her almost trance as she played with the blood.

“So, nothing else?”

“Hmm?”

Anton frowned slightly. “No other strange feelings?”

Verona shook her head.

“Not right now.” she answered. “Maybe if I try and break the crystals again...”

She stopped the flying shard of blood and brought it infront of her. With another burst of mana she broke the blood crystal into ten smaller shards. The shiver returned, but refused to go away despite her shout.

“It's here again.” she said, concern on her face. “That feeling. Stronger than the flicker I had before, and it's staying. It's like a shiver that runs down my spine. It's not that much right now, but I do feel it.”

“Is there anything else to it, other than just the shiver?”

Verona held the shards as they were, closed her eyes and looked within herself. She could feel it running down her spine but so long as she fought against it, it was controllable. Before she had just pushed it away, but now, as she looked and felt deeper, there was something else. There was a pulse and pressure that was buried underneath the shiver, at the small of her back. If she had not been looking she would have never of found it.

“Yeah, there is. There's a pulse, or something, underneath it. I don't know how long it's been there...” Verona opened her eyes and looked at him. “It could have been underneath that warm feeling I get from just using my power. I, I don't know.”

“Is a beat like your heart?”

She held her hand over her heart. They were not the same. A look of annoyance overcame his face as she shook her head.

“Okay. If it was then it might have had something to do with that. As for what it is, I honestly have no idea.”

Verona bit down on her lip at hearing this.

“But,” he continued, “Can you still use your power well?”

She nodded frantically.

“Of course. It's just that the more of that feeling I get, the harder it is for me to concentrate on properly controlling my power. You know, it just becomes harder and harder to ignore. I might even loose control completely...” her face turned into a grimace. “Like when I used the ball of spikes. I didn't even know that I was laughing like a maniac at watching them die. I had to be woken up from it.”

Anton smiled.

“I won't let it come to that.”

He did not explain further on what he would actually do, but the thought that someone was looking out for her was a soothing wave over her troubled heart and mind.

“I'll do my best. I'm going to keep it under control.”

She started to push to the shards around just like the liquid blood, first following one another than randomly. As she continued to play with the crystals the urge slowly became stronger. It was still manageable but it was becoming more distressing.

“Why do you think it's come now?” she asked Anton, continuing to make the shards dance with one another. “And not when I first got it?”

“You remember the gods dream that we had?”

Verona nodded. There was no way she was going to forget that night quickly. She held the shards still, the urge slowly bubbled away at the back of her mind.

“When I asked to see the other people from my world they said that I was starting to run out of mana.” She squinted at him, it was not very helpful. “And, that I was still attuning to my mana, whatever that really means.”

“So, I've become better 'attuned' with mine?” Verona asked, “And that's why I'm starting to have this feeling. Also, what does 'attuned' mean?”

“Basically that you and your mana are becoming one, more closely connected.”

“It might have been happening from the begining, but my body and the power were still growing closer so I didn't have this problem. And now, after having it for almost a whole season....”

Anton nodded.

“Something like that, yes. It's a possibility.”

Verona sighed.

“So that means that if I don't get this controlled soon, I might not have the chance to do so again? When the 'urges' become too strong for me to stop if I don't know how to?”

Anton grimly nodded.

"It's...a possibility."

“More reasons to get this thing under control. And now.”

She closed her eyes and focused on the shivering feeling, and the dull throbbing underneath. It came from where her glyph mark lay on her back. She was in no doubt that was the cause.

Alright you, I don't know if you are just a part of this magic that I have or it's something that Jira gave me as punishment, but you are going to stop!

Somehow the shivering did go down. Not a lot, but noticeable.

Huh. I don't think just shouting will get you under control...

She refocused her effort on the source. Focusing her mental energy on it, she tried her best to stop it. To sooth it. The mana started to flow into the source, begginning to subside to a barely noticeable pulse.

This seems to be working. Anton would probably say to keep going.

As she tried harder to sooth the feeling, it also felt as if everything was becoming more distant. Her own mind started to detach from her body. Yet this did not feel wrong or alarming. With each wave of mana that she washed over it, her mind faded away to somewhere far away as she lost control of herself. Time itself became muddled and unclear as she slipped into nothingness.

---[]---

Pain surged though Verona's chest and face. Enough pain to drag her back to reality. She had no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day, nor even where she was. Her feet were no longer touching the ground and her mind told her that she was falling backwards. With a thump she landed on the ground, the pain from her head smacking into the hard ground brought her to full alertness.

“Ugh.” was all that Verona could groan. Her eyes were not working very well yet. An arm length was the best that she could see even vaguely well.

Her power, and the fire within her, still burned, but her limbs refused to obey her. A tingling, unlike the shiver that ran down her spine, ran through her body. She had never felt anything like it. And yet, it felt familiar, somehow.

With her limbs recovering she slowly started to pick herself up. The first thing she noticed was the smell. Something was burning, charring, but it smelt fouled. Her chest was hot. A quick brush over with her hand revealed that it was covered in soot, even a few pieces of the leather had started to peel away. This should not be happening for some time, and that would be if Verona did not take care of it. Had she set it on fire somehow? That was not within her power.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice still weak from whatever transpired.

“Are you back?” Anton asked. His voice sounded a little pained and weak too.

“Did I go somewhere? I thought I just passed out.” she hauled herself to sit upright. Her eyes were beginning to focus on the ground infront of her.

It was horrific.

Her blood shards were everywhere. Each of the ten fragments had turned into long and thin spears, now driven into the ground randomly throughout their little practice area. Where Anton stood there was one. Through her blood power she could feel even more blood.

Oh no...

With all the strength she could muster she stood up and pulled the crystals back into a sphere. Anton groaned as the spear left him. It had gone through his foot and into the ground below.

“Verona?” he asked again.

“I...I'm sorry!” she blurted out, standing up and staggering back. Her legs were still weak, they failed to support her weight and she fell back onto the ground. “I didn't! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!”

With another pulse of her mana they reformed into the single large blood sphere. She pushed it away as far as she could and let her control waver. The blood splashed onto the ground and mixed with the dirt and grass. Now most of it was beyond her control.

Pain, fear and shame washed over her as she stared blankly at the ground. Even though the tingling sensation was gone, she could not bring herself to move any further. She was completely and utterly stunned.

“Are you back?” he asked, slowly walking towards her. She could see, and feel, the blood leaking out of his foot. Small trails of his blood, that she had caused, stuck to the grass with each step.

There was a wetness to her eyes. She brought her fingers up to find tears in the corners of her eyes. She was a few moments from attacking someone she loved when she was certain that she was getting better at controlling herself. The more she thought about it the closer she came to crying uncontrollably. Only the shock of what she had just done kept her from doing so. The shame was starting to win over, every silent moment brought her closer to bawling. He brought one hand down to his foot. Another moment later it was healed. Now he could walk normally, though Verona could still feel the fresh blood that had spread from the wound.

“Ugh, yeah.” she stammered out, wiping away both eyes full of tears, forcing herself to not cry through deep breaths. “I didn't even really know that I was gone until...I thought I was getting it right. I...”

“Something happened,” Anton said as he walked up to her and sat down next to her. She tried her best to shuffle away, to make sure she was not too close, but he refused to let her, “After you closed your eyes your whole body started to glow even brighter, and then you reformed the blood into those little needles.”

Verona wanted to punch herself in the head for what had just happened.

I should have kept my eyes open. Open to see what I was actually doing, especially since I don't know what I'm doing and definitely since I don't really know how this power works. I may not have lost it if I saw the world start to slip away....

I feel like utter shit.

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled again, forcing herself again to not burst into tears. “I should have been keeping a better watch on my surroundings.”

Anton waved her down, putting his hand onto hers. She tried to flinch away, just like she had done when he returned to Atros, but held herself steady. He was trying his best to help comfort her, even after she had just attacked him, and she should not be angry at him.

“Nothing bad happened, so it's fine.”

“It's not fine! I just attacked you!” She stared angrily into his face. “I tried to kill you!”

“Wel...I suppose. But I...” there was some apprehension to his face. “I, kind of, had to attack you as well. To get you to stop.”

That stopped her near bawling as she looked him over. He nodded to her chest, specifically the piece of armor that lay there. With her eyes more or less recovered, she inspected it properly. On the front was a large charred circle, the same place that she had wiped her fingers over and smeared them with soot.

“You...You used your magic on me?” she knew that her tone was almost petulant, but it was all that she could manage. Anything to distract her a little from what happened. “What was it? It can't have been the fire magic, so you must have used the lightning.”

“Who says I didn't use my prayer power to bring you back?” he asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Verona took that seriously, searching her memories for the answer.

“Tethra, your prayer goddess,” she began, “Doesn't seem like a bad person.”

She knocked her fist on the center of the scorch mark.

“This doesn't seem like a healing prayer, or that thing where it made my eyesight really, really good.”

He smiled. “No, it wasn't that. But the prayer power does have other uses.”

Verona threw a quizzical brow. Doing so revealed to her that her power was still working. She took a deep breath and extinguished the fire. Anton had no visible change to that, but she did feel better knowing that he did not have to look into the same red eyes that were attacking him a moment ago.

“Like what?” she was glad to be talking about anything else but what had just happened.

“Well, I think it can be used to repair things as well.” he said. “Among other things.”

“But that's what it already does. Like when I heals me, or anyone else, it's putting it all back together as how it should be.”

Anton nodded.

“Yeah, sort of. But, I think it can do other things as well. Like creation.”

He placed his other hand onto the scorched armor and closed his eyes. Verona gave him a look, as the marks were very close to her breasts, like he was trying to grope them through the armor. Nothing happened for quite some time, Verona just stared at the mark underneath his hand. From his hand outwards the leather armor began to change. Like water soaking into the dirt the leather began to fix itself, the dark marks turned back to light and the bent and upturned flakes settled back into line with the rest of the armor.

It was astounding to watch. A few more breaths later and the whole piece of armor looked like new. He took his hand away and breathed a sigh of relief. She knew the look on his face, doing what he just did took quite a bit of his own mana.

“How much did you just use?” she asked, realizing that she should have asked how he was feeling.

“Quite a bit.” he explained. “But, it did fix it. I guess it can fix just about anything then...”

She gave it a thump, it sounded like it always did.

“So it can 'heal' things as well as people.”

Anton nodded.

“That and maybe a few more things. Though, we need to get yours under control first.”

She looked back down at where the scorch mark was but a moment ago.

“You used the lightning magic?” she asked.

Anton looked away, a little embarrassed.

Why are you embarrassed? I tried to kill you, in whatever trance I was just in. I'm the one that's embarrassed.

“I did.” he admitted. “Remember...Do you remember early on when I arrived, when the Yellow Goblins breached the walls and were running through the village?”

Verona nodded.

“Yes. I killed a whole bunch of Yellow Goblins while I was in some sort of trance.”

“Like this one?”

She shook her head.

“I was still in control,” she began, “But it felt like someone else was guiding me.”

“Well, after we had dealt with the Goblins in the central plaza, we headed south and found some of them going after a woman and her daughter.”

“...I remember now.” her heart became more pained from the memory. “After that you got attacked-”

Anton squeezed her hand. Apparently he did not want to remember either.

“Before that, I used lightning magic but it only stunned the Goblins and the villagers, it didn't kill them.”

“Oh...” Verona realized what he was getting at. “So you did that to me?”

“Yeah. You didn't respond to anything I said. It looked like you were unconscious and still controlling the blood, head slumped to the side and staring into nothingness.”

Anton tilted his head to shower her.

“Everything went white. And I sort of lost track of everything. But it didn't feel wrong, like I couldn't even comprehend that it was wrong. I couldn't even think. That's how lost I became.”

Anton laughed nervously.

“I didn't know if it would be weak enough to just wake you up, and not kill you.”

Verona lent over and kissed him on the cheek, the bristles of his beard tickled her lips.

“You did what you needed to in order to break me out of....whatever that was.” She folded her arms and crossed her legs. “I won't be doing that again.”

“Out of curiosity, what did you do?”

“The source of where the odd feelings were coming from, I tried to sooth it with my mana.”

He looked down in thought for some time.

“Perhaps, perhaps your mana ended up feeding the issue than suppressing it. Sending you into a trance where you attacked the first thing you saw to get more blood. Like you were running on instinct.”

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.

“Which in this case was me.”

“I'm sorry about that.” she chuckled nervously.

Anton flexed his legs.

“It wasn't you. So, do you want to keep going?”

She looked within herself, lighting the fire within, and found that the feeling had returned at the same intensity before she had tried to soothe it. She had to control it. Otherwise she may never be allowed to fight again, though that would probably be her decision.

“I do.” she said as she puffed out her chest. “I have to.”

It was an act of confidence but it helped.

He was close enough to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a warm embrace. It was different to normal, more tender and trying to reassure her that everything would be alright. She took a moment, just to enjoy the sensation, before forcing a little room in-between them.

“I need to keep going. To keep trying no matter what happens.” she said defiantly. “I need to understand this. So I don't become a burden and unable to fight.”

As she said the words the shiver almost disappeared. Even Anton knew that something had just happened. Something had just wakened the feeling, and it was not Anton or herself. It came from outside.

“What was that?” he asked quietly, releasing her and taking a few steps back. It was not out of fear but he wanted to give her some space. “Besides, you're not a burden to anyone.”

“I chose the wrong words.” Verona broke out into a awkward smile. “I...Jira...Jira said that I needed to 'master' and 'understand' my power.”

Anton nodded, but he could not see where she was going with this. Neither did Verona, if she was being completely honest.

“I haven't done very well so far, and I know it'll take more than half a day. But, part of understanding my power is understanding where it came from. Why I asked for it in the first place.”

“It was so that you could protect...” he did not want to say it out aloud.

Verona found herself flushing as she remembered the reasoning.

“Yes...but maybe it's more than that. When I said and thought those words, the shivering stopped...I don't really know why... Jira might just be giving me a little hint...maybe.”

Verona closed her mouth and looked within herself, keeping her eyes open so that she would still be able to see the what was happening around her.

Did I really mean that, a burden? No. It wasn't that. It was something else. Like...Like I would not be able to fight.

Is it that I won't be able to protect? Is that it? And not just myself or Anton, Everyone. Even the people that don't like me or are afraid of me. Even if that's what I didn't get my power for, it's what I should be using it for.

Nothing seemed to change. Now she was getting angry at it.

Well, whatever it is, I'm pissed off at you that you're getting in my way of helping myself and other people. And I'm not going to let you, whatever this feeling is, stop me from doing what I can!

With all her might she surrounded and crushed down on the source. It buckled and cracked but it did not disappear, the mana did not have time to soothe over the area before it broke. The shivering all but disappeared. It remained though, at the back of her mind, but nowhere as bad. When she released her constriction of the feeling the shivering returned, when she refocused it diminished again. Now it was considerably more easy to keep it under control, though she had to focus some of her energy on keeping it as it was. The drain seemed to have stopped as well. Part of her problem was now literally broken, though she had no idea what would happen to her in an actual battle.

One step at a time I suppose.

She smiled wildly, to let Anton know it was okay. He relaxed as he looked her over.

“I, may have found something.” Verona began. “The urge has gone, for now.”

Anton looked straight into her eyes.

“It's still there...a little bit. I'm keeping it under control. It's not using any of my mana but it's taking a bit of my mind to keep it that way. But, I think I'm beginning to understand a little bit of how this power is supposed to be controlled." She scratched her head. "Maybe. I honestly don't know if it will even work the next time I use my power.”

“That sounds...possible.” Anton offered. “Although, I doubt that's all there is to it. I've still got a lot to figure out with mine.”

“Me too.” she glanced up at the sun. “And we've still got some time. Can we keep going?”

“Of course.”

Verona reformed the crystal sphere, of what little blood she could control, infront of her, breaking it into its smaller parts. As she floated the shards around the feeling came back. She focused on controlling the urge, and not just pushing it down and away. The shivers subsided. They was much easier to control now, though it did make her control over her blood shards more sluggish. Was there a way to do both? If she was going to find out she would need to keep working.

“Well, that might not be it completely...” she pulled the crystals back into a sphere and moved it to one side. “Did you ever get some help from your gods? Like a little hint or something? I think Jira might have just decided to help me a litte...after letting me attack you.”

Anton nodded.

“The first time I used the fire rings, those giant pillars of fire that came out of the ground. I asked Esperit, the goddess of fire, for help. She helped me understand a bit better of how my magic works, like a guide. It also gave a better idea how to use my magic.”

“Huh.” Verona nodded. “I think that might be what just happened to me. Not a complete thing but a push in the right direction. I'll need to keep working on it though.”

“Perhaps something like meditation practice help.” Anton offered.

Verona cocked her head, letting him know that she did not completely understand.

“Since you seem to have that urge whenever your using your power, it being the strongest when you use the crystal form, it might be a good idea to spend some time just focusing on that. Take a quiet space and just test out new forms of your power and keep a good mental, and literal, eye on it. Practicing all the time so you'll be ready for your first battle.”

She thought more deeply about it and nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Anton smiled, looking up towards the sun. She looked up as well.

“We've still got some time before lunch, I would like to keep going. I don't want to stop once we've got something good going."

“On another point, how well do you think you'll handle with tasting the blood.”

“Oh, gods no.” Verona replied, waving her hands and shaking her head. “I've barely got this under control as it is. That...that might be something that I can ever stop.”

She shrugged.

“Besides, all I need to do is not get it in my mouth. I didn't feel anything when it got on my skin.”

“Like a mask of some kind?” Anton offered. "That could stop that."

“Yeah. I used a cloth to cover my mouth but that didn't work that well when the fighting got really intense. Blood and claws were coming at my face and it just got torn off. I'll need something better, that won't interfere with my ability to fight.”

Anton looked into the sky before looking back with a smile. That meant he had thought of something.

“We'll think about it later, but for now keep practicing. I'll be right here if something happens."

Verona nodded enthusiastically. She sat down on the grass, brought the crystal sphere infront of her, and began to practice again.

---[]---

Anton watched Verona in silence, watching her manipulating the blood crystal. It seemed that she was determined to bring, whatever it really was, under control. She was not going to leave until she got a good handle on it.

It had turned into a very scary session. It all seemed to be going so well until she started to pass out while still using her power. He called out to her many times but all it did was succeed in making her more angry while she was stuck in her dreamlike trance. She was not awake, that was for certain, when she reformed the crystals into the long slender needles and tried to attack him.

There was no plan or skill used when she was in that form, only a raw desire to attack him. Like it was a primal part, a part of her that was only instinct and not capable of higher thought. Not even his shout of pain, when she stabbed him through the foot, managed to wake her up or give her any change in emotion. Only a weakened bolt of lightning to her chest stopped her.

He was a little shamed that he had to attack her to get her to wake up but it all worked out in the end. Though it was a little shameful to say so, it did give him a chance to experiment more with his prayer power to repair the damaged armor. It was just a shame that it required nearly hurting someone he deeply cared about. Worse was that he did not know if he could the power of his lightning down so it would only hurt rather than kill. His magical strength and control had grown since he used it such a manner. It was a bit of a gamble.

Nevertheless, he was glad that she was alright. His own injury did not feel that bad when it happened. Especially when he knew that he could just use his prayer power to make it better. That was a constant theme with him.

Whatever happened to her she now seemed to be in control of it.

As he thought that a pained twitch overcame her face, the crystal shards shuddered but remained where they were. She took a deep breath, furrowed her brows, and began to move them again.

Well, she's getting there. I don't really have a way telling her what to do. I mean, I could use my mana to 'investigate' her body again, but if what she said was true, about her soothing the area with mana, mine might just make her go ballistic again. Perhaps even worse, I don't know how much mana I have compared to her.

I think there's not a lot I can do now, except be right here for support.

Over the next little while Verona shapped the blood crystals into a number of creations to demonstrate and test out her control. Some were of a flower while others were random shapes. The longer she practiced the less twitches and stops she had.

Nearly an hour passed before Verona made any movement not related to controlling the crystal shards. Her head turned to one side, towards the small forest that Kal had disappeared into. For a brief moment he thought that she had lost control of her power again.

“I...I can smell blood coming towards us.” Verona said, bringing the dancing and folding shards back into a sphere.

“Smell or feel?” Anton sought to clarify.

“Feel.” she answered with a nod towards him. “I can tell there's fresh blood that's not under my control. That's how I was able to find those people in the mountain.”

Anton hummed. The less he remembered about that place the better. Verona even looked a little apologetic, though it was not her fault for bringing it up. He stood up and looked towards the north. Sure enough, he could see a figure walking through the long grass roughly towards them. It was covered in cloth wrappings and wore a long cloak.

“Kal's got whatever she needs to do, done.” Anton said, Verona looked up at him. “Looks like she's coming here rather than heading back to Atros.”

Verona shrugged. “Makes sense. She might still be a little nervous about going there all by herself.”

A thought flashed over her face.

“Do you think she heard the lightning?”

“If she's got as good hearing as I think she does, yes. Do you know why she's so scared of lightning? I haven't been able to get it out of her yet.”

Verona shook her head.

“Not yet. But she makes the difference between normal lightning from the sky and yours. Says that she knows where yours comes from so that makes it okay.”

Anton hummed, looking over towards Kal. She had seen them and was making a straight line towards them.

I guess I already knew that, that whatever it was happened during the storms. Whatever it was it must have been pretty terrible.

Kal gave him a wave, which he returned.

One day, once everything settles down I'll see if we can have a talk about it. It would be nice if she could share.

Verona kept practicing until the last moment, only when Kal was within speaking distance did she stop. She put the blood back into the clay pot, turned off her power, and laid down on the ground. He had not noticed before but she had been using her power constantly, and heavily, for over an hour. It was no wonder that she was tired. They also had none of the Karak fruit with them. For now, she would have to recover the normal way, though he felt that she was putting it on a bit.

“Did I hear your lightning magic?” Kal asked as she approached, taking a quick survey of the surroundings, “I don't see any Kobolds or...Goblins.”

Anton and Verona looked at one another. Both their faces said to one another that it was too embarrassing to say the truth.

“It...It was part of the training.” Verona said, hauling herself up to her sitting position. “Helped me focus.”

That was sort of the truth, so Anton did not add to it. Kal seemed to accept it.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

Kal took a moment before answering.

“Yes. Yes I did.” she said.

There was something different about her, in more ways that one. She seemed happier and more confident, but there was something else. Something more physically different. She reached behind and pulled out a small cloth bag, attached to her quiver belt, handing it to Anton.

“I...I know it's not much, compared to what you have in Atros, but it's what I managed to gather over my time wandering.” Her voice was light and fluttery, something he had not heard from her.

Anton accepted the bag and looked inside. He was quite surprised at how heavy it was and how many coins were inside.

“How much is it?” Verona asked, still refusing to stand while taking deep breaths to calm herself.

“I think it's about thirty or forty silver coins and about the same in copper.”

He bounced the bag in his hands, letting the coins rattle.

“This is very impressive, Kal.”

Kal looked very happy, her ears pulled back and her tail started to move in happiness. Verona lent to the side to try and get a better look, grumbling when she realized that the cloak was still covering her behind.

“Th...Thank you. I did my best over the winters.” Kal fought down a light flush. She turned to Verona. “How is your training going? It seems to be going well.”

Verona chuckled and finally got to her feet. She dusted off the few leaves and blades of grass that had stuck to her clothes.

“It's going...” she looked at Anton. “Okay, I suppose. It's not going to be a quick thing to learn or master. But, I'm getting better at it.”

She smiled nervously at Anton.

“I had no idea how close I was to falling off the edge.”

Anton nodded. Only her mental strength was able to keep herself together when she was using her power, and they had still yet to see how she would perform in an actual battle. He hoped she would be alright. Verona coughed awkwardly, trying to halt the melancholic air that had developed.

“Enough of that bad talk.” Verona clapped her hands as moved closer to Kal.

Something on Verona's face screamed trouble as she stared at her cloak. Kal looked quite concerned and took a step back, she glanced to Anton who looked on concerned.

“Your cloak...” Verona said, pointing to the bottom.

“Oh. Right.”

Anton looked, there was blood on it. Judging from the color it was very fresh.

She had been fighting?

“You were in a fight?” Anton asked worryingly. “You should have told us right away.”

Verona nodded as well. Kal stammered and fiddled with her her hair. Now he realized what was wrong. The cloth on her hands and legs were different. They looked new; the dirt, dried blood and frayed ends of the cloth wrappings had gone. The cloak appeared to still be the same.

“It must have been a bit of a fight.” Anton said, catching Kal's attention. “For you to have to change your...clothes.”

Kal nodded. “A few Goblins had made a home in the cave. I snuck up and killed them.”

“What type?” Verona asked desperately. “Color? How many? Any sign of more lurking about?”

Kal looked bewildered by the barrage of questions that Verona unleashed upon her. Anton moved to Verona and patted her on the shoulder. She relaxed a little, realizing that she may have been a little harsh on Kal.

“Sorry.” she said, “Those things get me pretty mad. Them and the Kobolds. They're the reason that everything went bad around here.”

Kal relaxed as well, taking a deep breath.

“There were....six Green Goblins. All male, so they won't be able to breed without a female. They're probably cast aways from the main group.”

“So that means there are some nearby.” Anton looked over to the small forest. “In that direction...ish?”

Kal looked as well, he could feel some apprehension from her but did not know why.

“There probably would be.  More to the north east probably. But, they would be quite some distance away. The outcasts don't settle down anywhere near where they were thrown out from.”

She turned back and smiled at them.

“Greens don't live in big groups either, so they shouldn't be a real threat to Atros. You have more than enough soldiers and archers to fend them off.”

That was a relief. He did not want to go through again. Most of the recent lives of the villagers of Atros had been spent under a state of siege.

“That's good to know.” Anton said. “Though, now that we are no longer under siege and we almost have two thousand people, and lots more weapons and supplies, I think we should resume some light scouting of our area, about a days ride or so at most. Make sure that no Goblins or whatever else sneak up on us.”

Both girls nodded enthusiastically.

Anton looked back up at the sky. The sun was about in the middle of the sky.

“I'm pretty much done for now.” Verona said, stretching out both of her arms. “I don't have much of my mana left. We didn't bring any of that Karak fruit with us and I'm pretty hungry.”

“I think it's safe enough to call it lunch. Do you want to come back with us now?” he asked Kal.

She nodded. He moved over to Verona and offered an arm, which she accepted. Slowly they moved back to Atros. Kal walked infront, he did not miss the happiness that appeared in every step she took. A pull on his shirt made him look down at Verona. For a moment he was sure that she was going to reprimand him for staring at Kal's backside, but instead she looked at him worryingly.

“More than what she's letting on happened in that cave.” she said in the softest whisper.

Anton knew that Kal had much better hearing than either of them, but the wind was blowing quite hard. The rustling of the grass and the whistling of the wind should drown out their words.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“It's not that she changed her clothes, it's that there's more than Goblin blood on her.”

He glanced at her, her eyes were not red.

“I...I don't know. I used my power just for a flicker of a moment when she was looking at you, and...it felt like there was a difference in the blood. Like a...taste. It's hard to describe. But, I think there's more to it than just a few Goblins.”

He looked forward at Kal. She gave away nothing that she had heard what had been said.

“I'm sure there's a reason for it. She doesn't seem like the sort of person that would just do something because she can.”

Verona nodded. “But...”

"We'll just have to wait until she decides to tell us on her own." he said. "She might never, there are some things people don't want to ever say."

Verona nodded, lightening the load she was placing on Anton. They all walked in silence back to Atros.

-------------

Howdy!

I wrote and edited it in about 3 or so days. I decided to block out everything and type...I hope it's up to standard and that all my future chapters follow that!

The chapter itself. Verona's trying to understand her power almost went out of control, but she's getting a handle on it. How much of it was Jira's interference for better or worse is still in the air. This chapter does not mean that she's got complete control, she's got about 2/10 of control right now, and that's in a non battle condition. Very little stess or the cacoghany of sound and blood from a battle. So, she's going to be doing a lot more magical practice, in and out of battle, and I hope to show the results of that as I go on. It's going to be a bit related to how Verona got her power, with Anton sort of forcing it through his magic, more on that when other people start to get theirs.

Kal is stretching the truth, and ommitting what she found, even though most of the evidence has been cleaned up. That will be coming up later as well.

Next chap will be more relaxed and planning out the continuing construction of Atros, as well as a trip north to the mines and the construction of the observation posts on the mountain. It's been a while, almost a month, since they've been able to check on the mountain....

Also, I was re-writting the plot thread for the first Arc, ad I realised that its very....bare. That could take a while to get a good plot with that and get rid of some of the critiscim about it.

That's it.

Thanks for reading. And thanks for any and all donations!

Chapter 045 - Administration

Chapter 045:

(Changed the position of Marshall to Sheriff and Deputies. Seems like an obvious oversight now :) )

Lunch was the standard affair, the air filled with shouts and cheers from the villagers and a hushed conversation from the council members. Except that this time Kal had joined them, for her first communal lunch. Almost a full thousand of the people of Atros had stopped to eat. This did lead to some problems, mainly overcrowding, that was dealt with by the surprisingly authoritative and efficient elderly villagers. Now they were having to draft up some sort of rotation plan for lunch so that the village did not grind to a halt. Not to mention there wouldn't be many keeping watch into the wilderness. That lead to some other arguments but the elderly villagers had been able to calm the situation with some stern words.

The normal food, a healthy selection of cooked meat, breads and lots of vegetables, had been served up. He was sure it tasted better than the equivalent meal from Earth. Perhaps it was the completely natural and organic way it was grown? Or perhaps the Earth Mana flowing through the ground, that allowed the plants and monsters of this world to grow at unexpected levels, that made it taste so good. Perhaps it was just in his mind. Not that it really mattered. It tasted very good. He barely missed the processed foods of Earth.

Everyone ate with their fingers. They did not have anything in the way of cutlery, apart from rough spoons for soups. Anton did wish for a knife and fork. He could have used his prayer magic to make himself one but to create a wooden spoon for Kal had taken almost half of his mana. He did not feel ready yet to use his mana so frivolously on something that he could manage without. And if he did make something like that, and used it all the time when he ate, he was certain that he would be incessantly nagged by passers-by for one. The other council members, merrily eating away, might be flooded with requests for his creations. Though that might just be an unhealthy dose of paranoia.

Kal sat beside Verona this time, who sat next to him. Again nobody said anything about Kal's presence on the council table. Anton had a sneaking suspicion that Avery was the least fond of Beast-kin of those present. He did not know if he should put it down to a cautious attitude to outsiders or if he was genuinely hateful of Beast-kin. Either way he kept such thoughts to himself. He had not heard from anyone with a protest about Kal's presence, though his presence was definitely suppressing any such attitude.

Kal ate with her normal caution and nervousness, always making sure not to show off her teeth and keeping an eye of everything moving around her. It had caused her enough discomfort the first time he had seen it and she had no intention of showing them again to relative strangers. Now there were over a thousand rowdy villagers were in close proximity, shouting and jeering. Thankfully nobody was looking in her direction as she ate. It was slowly calming her, like she was blending in.

There was a conversation ongoing but Anton had zoned out. Thinking over what happened to Verona in his mind took away some of his concentration, and his enjoyment of the meal. There was little he could do but trust in her judgement and support her however he could. He hoped that she would get better in time. Verona picked up on his concern and gave his leg a squeeze. He returned it with a smile and focused his attention back onto the conversation.

“I could really use some more help.” Zac grumbled. “I'm struggling a little.”

The large bear-man folded his arms, putting down what remained of the Razor-pig meat. He seemed to be a fast eater. Either that or Anton was especially slow today.

“We're stretched as far as we can be.” Bertram replied.

He looked quite apologetic for whatever problem was unravelling infront of him.

“I understand that.” Zac looked quite sorry himself. “It would just be easier on the people that work for me if the load was lightened. So I can focus on getting to the building.”

“What's wrong Zac?” Anton asked. It would be rude to ask what they had just been talking about, and effectively admit that he had not been paying any attention, but he had no other way of finding out what he was talking about.

Zac scratched his head. “Listen...Lad, I am thankful that you've put so much trust in me to organise all of the building and construction of Atros and the places outside.” Zac emphasised 'and' quite a bit, sounding quite tired as he did so, “But, I'm struggling with this many things at once. ”

Zac lent back in his chair and took a deep breath before continuing. “Before...Well, before this, I was only building a house or two at the same time. It didn't matter where they went, there was always more room. I did alright in fixing up the houses that were damaged over the winters. That was simple enough, but now I'm having to plan and build dozens of houses at once. I'm guessing that you're going to want something none of us have ever seen before. Nothing like in the old Kingdom.”

He looked towards Jonathan, who was making sure that his children ate everything on their plates.

“What you got Jonathan to build is proof of that.”

Jonathan glanced around but returned to his children when it was clear that he was being spoken about rather than to.

“Anyway, I'm just saying that I need some more help to get things done right. Planning things out is becoming a big problem for me. I've got the new people from Maxill asking me questions every few heartbeats. It's...I don't think I'm right for my position.”

Zac seemed rather hurt by what he felt he had to say. However, Anton appreciated that he was being honest about having issues rather than covering them up. Anton had been ignoring that aspect of Atros in favour of bringing the weapons of Earth to this world. Now that seemed to be under-way, and still needing some time before it would as effective as he hoped, he needed to direct his attention to the very important task of industry and infrastructure.

Would Zac feel any different about what he had just said if he knew that Anton was going to talk to him after lunch? Possibly, but what had been said had been said.

“I...Appreciate your concerns.” Anton began, Zac keeping his arms folded. “But, I don't think that you should give in just yet. I was going to visit you and find out things were going. I have been neglecting your side of Atros for some time.”

“What am I hearing between you two?” Sam asked with a mouth full of food. Nobody acknowledged what she had said, her face turning into a pout in response. Jeff had to calm her down before she resumed her normal attitude.

“That's...nice to hear.” Zac replied to Anton. “But, I'm still struggling, regardless.”

“After we're done here I'll see what I can do. It sounds to be just the administration side of things that's getting to you, rather than the actual construction?”

Zac nodded.

“Then I might have a few ideas. It was not my profession, but it might be enough to help. Or at least make it a little easier or steer you in the right direction.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Zac smiled and began eating again.

Anton hoped that he would be of help and not just throw the administrative equivalent of his hand cannon designs on Zac. Verona coughed and poked Anton in the leg to get his attention.

“Well, while you two are doing that, I was thinking that I would continue to train and practice my blood power.” A bitter smile came to her face. “I think I'm going to need every moment if I'm going to have any chance of controlling it in a battle.”

“That reminds me,” Jeff began, “One of the soldiers on the eastern side of Atros said that they heard a loud crack coming from far away. Just like the lightning powers you use. About where you two were meant to be practising....Did something happen?”

Anton and Verona looked at one another. Above her head, he could see Kal tensing slightly. She stopped picking at her food.

“Something did,” Anton said with a shrug, “Suffice it to say that nothing bad happened.”

Verona gave him a rather annoyed look, a look to tell him that her trance and attacking him was no minor thing. He did not want to tell them that she could loose control if she mishandled her power. She turned to the others and shrugged.

“My power is...difficult to control. Not like Anton's.”

“You seemed fine when the Kobolds attacked.” Sam said. “Well, mostly.”

Verona shrugged again. "I suppose so. But I was really using it badly, like a child would wield a spear. Learning how to control every part of it is not going to be an easy or quick thing.”

“So, the lightning was not to defend yourselves?” Bertram asked.

He had hit the nail on the head. Verona audibly winced, and the others looked at her. He was not going to oust her for something she did in a magical trance. However, there was a way to shift it without drawing Verona deeper into questions.

“Not exactly,” he replied, “But there is a reason for concern. Kal said she found something. Kal?”

He looked at Kal. She shrunk away at everyone's stare, but her glare at him told him that she did not understand what she was being asked.

“Could you tell everyone what you found?” Anton said softly. He did not want to put her in an uncomfortable or difficult position, but she would need to be exposed to speaking infront of others. It was enough to start Kal in the right direction. She put down the remains of a piece of bread and took a deep breath.

“I...I had several things that I had collected over my lifetime that I did not bring with me to Atros when I first arrived. I did not know if you could be trusted then. I stored them in a nearby cave.” There was no sound of opposition, so Kal continued. “In that cave, I found...six Green Goblins.”

That caused some concern. Even if Kal did not say how far away the cave was, the fact that she came back with Anton and Verona in time for lunch told them it was not far away. Nobody wanted another repeat of the Yellow Goblins.

“They're dead now.” Kal said, throwing up both hands. Everyone's expression began to soften. “But, they were male and likely out-casts from a larger group. Outcasts looking to make their own group. A new nest.”

Dana groaned loudly, gripping tightly onto the hilt of a blade at her waist.

“But,” Kal looked a little worryingly at Dana, “They were Green Goblins. They don't live in the same sort of large groups that the Yellow Goblins do. They won't attack here, with walls this high and so many people. They would be rather go after a small hamlet without walls than here.”

Everyone visibly relaxed.

“But,” Anton continued, “It don't think it's a good idea just to leave it alone.”

He looked to Jeff, the man in charge of what constituted their military. Jeff shuffled, realising that he was on the spot.

“We...um...we don't know how many of these Green Goblins there are, or where they live.”

He glanced to Anton, who nodded as inscrutably as he could. Jeff took it that he was on the right track with this.

“And, with the people that we have, we can't just send them all out to hunt for them....Dana?”

Dana perked up. She was a bit distracted with remembering what the Yellow Goblins had done to her and those other women in the cave. It was unsettling for Anton as well, he had put them down himself with a lightning bolt to the head. Thinking about that made his stomach churn.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to organise a scouting....um, expedition, north east.”

Dana nodded, while Jeff looked towards Kal.

“Kal, anything we should know about the Green Goblins?” Jeff asked her, “Since you've been out there for so long.”

She seemed a little surprised by Jeff asked her a question. “They're the weakest and smallest of the Goblin varieties.” she began. “They hunt in groups of up to twenty, but the main camp will have up to about five hundred or so.”

Dana spluttered in surprise.

“Five Hundred?” she asked incredulously. “That doesn't sound like a small number of those things.”

Kal nodded. “But they aren't a threat to Atros, as they are now. You beat back nearly eight thousand Yellow Goblins.”

Dana opened her mouth to object but kept quiet. There was nothing to object about Kal's statement.

“Just,” Kal began again. “Be careful. They aren't very smart or have good eyesight but they should not be underestimated.”

“I did that.” Dana folded her arms and looked down at her empty plate. She began tapping impatiently on the table. “Okay...How far away do you think they'll be?” she asked Kal.

Something flashed over Kal's face, apprehension and a hint of fear, and it was gone again. He was not sure if the others saw.

“If...If these Green Goblins are the same as the others, it shouldn't be any more than a days walk.” A strange smile came onto Kal's face. “I think they are pretty lazy creatures.”

Well, if what I managed to find when I did that impromptu dissection, they seemed to survive on grass. They only go after humans because they can. Guess that would make them pretty lazy and sedentary, and the only reason they would need to spread out is from their social structure. Apparently these don't need humans to breed to large numbers. Doesn't really explain why the world isn't covered by these things, apart from possibly them killing each-other. A question to ask an expert on the matter.

Thinking that gave Anton another thought. “Dana?” he began. “Could you tell whoever goes on the trip, so long as they are careful, to try and capture one of them?”

Dana stopped, as if her body had just frozen solid. Everyone else looked slightly less shocked.

“Jeff, you remember that I dissected one of those things early on?”

Jeff nodded in agreement. “Yes. That was a little odd of you.”

“Well, we should try and investigate them as much as we can.” He received some very angry stares, especially from the women.

“So that we can figure out how to kill them better.” he added. “We shouldn't have to fight the Kobolds for some time, but the Goblins will be a constant threat. It would be a good idea to find out a little bit more about them.”

“You want those things running around in some sort of animal pen?” Dana asked, her shock and anger having levelled off. "In Atros? Those things here?"

“Not exactly. But I do want to see what else we can learn from them. See if anything further can be learnt from them. See if there's anything that can be used to kill them more easily. Though, I understand that an arrow to the chest or club to the head is just as effective without me doing this impromptu research session.”

Dana took a moment. “I'll see what I can do, but I'm not going to risk my riders or myself so we can capture one of those things.” She glanced around. “I don't see what you could possibly learn from them.”

“Things like where they're weakest, and how long they can survive without food, and whether they can live on just grass.”

“Why?” Verona asked. Everyone mirrored her thoughts.

“I'm thinking about the longer term.” Anton explained. “Do we even know how many Goblins are infesting the capital?”

“Lots.” Jeff replied.

“Lots indeed. Well, when we finally move against them we'll need to know if we can just surround them for a couple weeks while they starve and become weak. That'll save lives and effort. If we didn't know that we could have just charged in a lost many more people than we needed to.”

“Surdon was a very big city.” Bertram began. “We would need many thousands of soldiers to surround it, and many more to stop them from just fighting their way through."

Anton rubbed his bearded chin.

“I suppose I could move around and set fire to the grass around the city to cut them off from their food source, leaving one patch which we set up most of our forces. Force them to come to us.”

“That...could be something.” Jeff said, looking down in thought.

“But that would involve a dangerous amount of guess-work if we don't do these tests before. Besides, I only want one. We'll keep it chained and pinned down so it can't move. That'll also let us know what the maximum length of time they can go without food, as they can't move to burn it off.”

Dana nodded slowly and reluctantly. “Fine. I'll see about getting one. Just so we can figure out how to kill more of them. But I don't want it getting out.”

“Do we have somewhere we could put it?”

Everyone looked towards Bertram and Sybil. They were in charge of resources and supplies, if there was something that could be used they would know.

“All the barns are full,” Sybil said, looking towards Zac, “I suppose that Zac could get a builder to make something small, like a wooden cage. Wrap rope around it and then pin it to the ground.”

“That could work.” Anton said. “However, as I said, I just want one.”

For now, at least. There might need to be more experiments later, but finding out their 'hunger span' would be a good start.

“I think we may have to add that to the list of things you've got to do.” Anton said to Zac. He seemed not entirely thrilled with Anton's decision but was going to follow it.

“It's just a small thing for now.” Zac grumbled, starting to pick at his food again.

Verona clapped her hands, brining all the attention to her. “Since we didn't get to it this morning, but did anyone think of something that we could sell for money? I...really didn't think of anything.”

“I had a look through what we have and make here,” Bertram began, “But there's really not a lot that we make here that other villages make that they would want to buy.”

“Damn.” Verona grumbled, folding her arms in a huff.

“There is....” Jonathan trailed off while he looked at Zac.

“What?”

“That alcohol that you have, we could sell some of that.”

“I don't have that much left.” Zac answered with another shrug.

“How do you even make it?” Anton asked. “I haven't seen anything like a brewery in this place.”

A smile formed on Zac's bearded face. “You haven't looked hard enough then. But, I could get a barrel or two to sell for each trip to Maxill. See how it goes.”

“I think it could do well.” Anton said. “I had some stuff there that was a little stronger than that stuff and it was quite expensive. It could become a sort of exclusive drink for the area. All depends on how we sell it. Make it something exotic from a dead kingdom. That alone would make people interested.”

Zac filled with a strange sense of pride, several of the others chuckled as they watched.

“Just make sure that nobody drinks it along the way.” Anton told Raston.

Raston nodded but did not say anything more. Most of his attention was on the potential problems of returning to Maxill through the forest. The wolves evidently still played on his mind. Anton smiled as warmly as he could towards them all. Thankully the rest of the meal was filled with conversation that did not make stomach's crawl.

---[]---

After everyone had finished Anton helped bring the dirty plates into the Main Hall. He was not exactly sure where they were cleaned, they could get fresh water from a well, but they were always ready for the next meal. Verona, Kal and Jeff had decided to help out as well. As he placed them down, Sybil turned towards him, making sure they were all inside.

“Anton, you'll be happy to know that Dennis had taken to the position of Sheriff with great enthusiasm.”

“You know, I still haven't seen him yet. Even during lunch.”

“He came to me just after those cannon tests.” Jeff explained. “He seemed pretty happy to have been given the position. I gave him a list of people that would be good for deputies.”

“Did you take them from the current soldiers?” Anton asked.

Jeff shrugged. “Sort of. I didn't take the best soldiers away, but the ones that I thought would be the best at keeping law and order. I'm sure that was the best idea.”

“Good decision.” Anton said. “Where are they now?”

“They'll be over the northern side with the rest of the soldiers. I've got a section to the side reserved for them to practice...For their job.”

“Do you have somewhere where they are based? Like a central building that they can operate from?”

Sybil and Jeff glanced at one another. “Not yet. It's all still very new to us.”

“Well, wherever you decide to put it, it should probably be near the center of the village. That way they can get to anywhere in the village quickly.”

Jeff looked at Sybil.

“I don't think there's anything facing the central plaza that's free...But there might be a decent sized house just back from there. I'll talk with Bertram to find a free place.”

“What about the punishments?” Verona asked. “Like for theft, or assault?” She glanced at Anton. “Are we going to keep to the old style of punishment? Or....something else?”

“What's the old punishment for theft?” Anton asked.

“Loosing a finger for the first offence,” Sybil answered, “More for every theft after that.”

“Harsh, but the message will get out. I think everyone should be made aware of the consequences now.” Anton folded his arms. “At least they won't be able to say they don't know what would happen to them if they're are a crook.”

“I think it'll be a good idea to go there once you've we've got the thing with Zac sorted.” Verona said, looking at Kal. “I think that you should come along as well.”

“Me?” Kal had been very quiet the whole time, she seemed a little uncomfortable inside this building. Perhaps it reminded her of her past, or she did not like being surrounded by so many people.

Verona nodded. “We may have checked with Dennis that he's not against Beast-kin, but we can't be sure about the others. So we'll do what we did before, but Anton will be with us as well.” A wicked smile formed on her face. “Then the definitely won't think of doing anything stupid.”

“Right.”

“I'll handle this here.” Sybil said. “You guys get going and do what you need to do.”

“Thanks Sybil.” Anton said, followed by nods from Verona and Kal.

“I'll help mum and then head over to the training field in the north. Come and see me when you're done with Zac.”

Anton gave another nod and exited the building. Most of the villagers had already dispersed from lunch and only a few wandered about in the central plaza.

“So....do you want to come with me for this thing?” he asked.

Verona shrugged. “I don't think I'll be a lot of help. Besides...” she scratched at her visible markings on her hands, “I still have my magic to keep practising with.”

“You sure you want to be alone when you do that?” A flash of pain flickered over her face as she thought back to their previous session. “I don't think you should just yet. Just in case. I don't want something happen to you.”

“I'm not going to be doing that, what I did before, I know what not to do now. I'll just be practising with the crystal shards.”

“Verona....” it sounded like he was talking to a rebellious child. Verona finally cracked and smiled.

“Okay. I'll wait. I'll practice with my spear instead. If something happens where I can't use my magic, I'll need to know how use that better than I do now.”

“Okay.” Anton gave her head a rub, Verona bursting out into a giggle. “What about you, Kal?”

“I have some things that I can do to help everyone.” she began, opening one side of her cloak. There were quite a few small pouches attached to her hips. “These are the things that I've taken from the Kobold camps, as well as a few things that I recovered from the cave. I have a few things that I can make with these, things that will be useful to Atros.”

She scratched at the torn off ear. “It's...something I learnt in Seocuria.”

“That's...” Anton did not know to respond to that, or even if he should. He let it drop, to a thankfull Kal.

“I'll be heading behind our house to practice.” Verona said. “We have a garden there that we can use.”

“We do?” Anton asked, astonished. It amazed him that he had not completely explored around his gifted house, but Verona had taken the time to check. Embarrassment flushed over his face, receiving an odd look from Verona.

“Anyway, while I do that, Kal can do whatever she wants to do there as well.”

Anton raised an eyebrow at her.

“I'll be fine. It'll just be swinging a spear about.” she said, full of confidence. A look of need, a need for assurance from him.

“....Okay. I'll be as quick as I can. Kal, you can work inside if you want.”

Verona smiled warmly, and gave him a quick kiss before heading to the east. Kal's eyes lingered on his face for a moment, his glance at her eyes snapped her back to reality, and gave a quick nod.

“See you soon, Anton.” she said as she ran after Verona. She gave another glance back as she caught up with Verona. They started talking amongst themselves, he could hear Verona laughing laughing as they continued to walk away.

Anton took a deep breath, hoping that she would be alright. He spied Zac waiting in the center of the central Plaza. Anton gave him a wave, which he returned, and headed towards him.

---[]---

Zac led Anton to his workshop located on the south eastern side of Atros. It was one of the large barns that was scattered throughout Atros, though this one looked far more busy and active than the others. Many people entered and exited with iron and stone tools in their hands before heading off to work. Twenty wooden logs were stationed outside, supported by two sets of two bound crossed pieces of wood. The workers were stripping the bark off the wood and then stacking them in a pile next to the barn. It was quite an industrious and productive work site.

Is it that he's extremely good at organizing at this level, and fixing up the place, but he's struggling at designing the new city?

Anton shook his head to focus his thoughts.

I should not be judgmental about this. Everyone here can do things that I can't do. I couldn't start a fire without my magic. I can't just throw things at people at expect it to work. I should not just leave something important like this alone. And working together is not about me having these sort of thoughts, so I should do everything I can to help.

With a little mental resolution finalized, Anton directed his attention to the working villagers. Each of them wore thick gloves that seemed to be made from the same hide as the Razor-Pig's. Anton had to ask, if only to break the silence between the two.

"I didn't know that you had gotten such thick gloves." Anton said. “Is that Razor-pig hide?”

Zac glanced at him and then at one of the workers. “Yeah. We always have it left over after our meals, so some of the others dig up some way of making it into leather. Not the best, but it's pretty good, quick to make and strong stuff.”

He stopped and looked at Anton. “Do you think we could use it for the soldiers?”

Anton nodded. “Could do. If it's stronger than the cloth that they wear, make a full set of armour. It'll help them survive until we can get full metal armour.”

Zac chuckled and smiled, heading towards the barn. “That's good to know. I didn't like seeing so many people die.”

“I don't think many people do.” Anton added. “...Not good ones at least.”

Zac remained silent. The builders and workers, upon seeing Zac and Anton approaching, stopped and waved. Zac returned the wave and motioned for them to come forward.

“Everyone,” Zac spoke in his normal loud voice, catching the attention of the few workers that had not stopped, “This is Anton. Our extremely powerful mage and our strangest person.”

“Thanks.” Anton spoke softly enough so that Zac could just hear.

None of the builders spoke, they did not know what they could possibly say.

“Are you stripping the bark off the wood?” Anton asked. “I thought we didn't get any of those woodworkers from Duchess Belinda.”

Zac shook his head.

“The men are just doing their best with what we've got.” he gestured to the workers, straightening their backs. “They saw what some of the woodworkers did and we've done the best to do what they did. We're about to put something on them so they don't rot as quickly.”

“That's very good.” Anton said, walking up and gently running his hand over the straight pieces of wood. There were far less splinters than he thought. “I take it the stone is being prepared somewhere else.”

“Yes. To the south.” one of the workers said, gaining the attention of everyone around him. Many looked in fear and surprise that he had just spoken aloud. “Just near the southern gate, so we don't have to move them any further than we need to.”

“Are you one of the stonemasons from Maxill?”

They all shook their heads.

“We...We are just bondsmen.” he answered. “The stonemasons are still working at the south on the stone chunks.”

“Do you know if they have everything they need? Like hammers and chisels?” Anton asked.

The man took a deep breath. “I know they brought those with them here. The leader of the smithy, I believe his name is Jonathan, is helping to make more of them for us.”

Anton looked back to Zac, who had moved closer.

What about adding something simple from my world relating to construction and building. There's more than just guns and cannons there. It can't be that hard to think of something.

He glanced at the work being carried out around him.

Everything is moved by hand, the only thing that's not is when it's being loaded onto the cart. From what I've seen of the building going on it's all done by hand too, even the wood right up the top.

“How about things like pulleys and cranes?” Anton asked again. “To raise these logs and stone up high without breaking yourselves. Everything looks like it's done by hand, even right up to the top.”

The man relaxed a little bit more. He knew that he was not being interrogated, but merely being asked how they were doing.

“Some of the bondsmen used something like that to expand Duchess Belinda's mansion.”

“She wanted that thing bigger?” Anton chuckled.

Compared to the rest of the city, even to the richer inner circle, was small compared to that giant mansion. Although, compared to some places he remembered of earth, it was very modest in size.

The man tried to hold back a smile.

“Yes. Quite a few winters ago. They used these stacks and built up...steps...layers, of wood, that allowed them to carry the stone up to the highest level of the mansion.”

“Ah, some sort of wooden scaffolding then.”

“I'm not sure what they called it, but yes.” the man continued. “The also used ropes that ran over small wooden wheels to pull the stone blocks up, so they wouldn't have to try and carry it up by hand.”

Anton turned to Zac. "I don't mean to be rude or presumptuous, but are you using these technologies?”

Zac nodded. “Once the people from Maxill found that they would be having a lot more freedom than they did before, they came up with many ideas that they had been stopped from using. Those were some of them.”

He chuckled, folding his arms and looking about. “It took almost a day to get through just some of the ideas. I had to tell them to focus on the best ideas, otherwise I would still be listening to them now.”

Anton chuckled as well. “Good to know that our new citizens are contributing so well.”

The man, and the other former bondsmen, relaxed greatly.

“Well, I've taken up enough of your time.” Anton said, turning to Zac. “And I don't want to take up any more of your time than I need to.”

“Thank you, everyone.” Zac said, waving them back to their work.

Inside, and away from the other builders and workers, Zac's demeanour changed. He relaxed and started to slump his shoulders down. It was quite odd to see.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” Anton asked.

Zac snapped his fingers and pointed to a table near the back, illuminated by a converted open window. On the table lay a giant sheet of paper. It was bigger than anything he had seen in the village. As he got closer it became apparent that it was six pieces of paper put close together and held together by small stones on the corner of each piece.

The papers were a rough map of Atros. There seemed to be many attempts at drawing, erasing and then drawing those parts again.

“So, this is the map of Atros that I've been working on.” Zac looked very proud of his work. “It's taken a bit of time but I'm pretty proud of it.”

“It looks pretty good.” Anton said. “A pretty faithful recreation.”

Zac let out a smile. “I may have been a bit...dramatic, over lunch.” Zac said, looking back to the map. “But I don't know what I'm supposed to be actually doing. I'm...I'm a bit lost.”

Anton threw him a quizzical look. Zac moved to the other side of the table and brought out several more pieces of paper. These had many drawings of Atros on them as well, of what it could look like in the future. He lay them on top of the current plans.

“These are some of the ideas that I have. I had an idea that would make things a lot easier for us.”

“Okay...”

Zac shuffled them around until he found the one he was looking for. It showed the two current ring walls of Atros, as well as many others drawn in a lighter shade. Each was much larger than the previous.

“My plan was to keep building Atros like this. Each time we need to build a new wall for more people, I was thinking of dividing it into sections.” He brought out a thin piece of charcoal, and began to draw on the piece of paper. He filled in the next ring and divided it into three. “This way, I can just have the same things built each time. Lots of houses, a few storage barns, and leave some space for open areas or anything else that might need to be built.”

“Basically, a repeatable template for each new part of Atros.”

“Umm...Yes?.” Zac said, Anton realised that he might not know what a template is.

“You have a layout, a design, that you can repeat each time.” Anton began. “That'll save you time in planning and allow your builders to get better at building, as it'll be the same thing over and over again. Though there's going to have to be a few alterations as the city gets bigger.”

A frown formed on Zac's face as he looked deeper at the paper.

“What's wrong?” Anton asked. “It's a good idea.”

“It...It seems...Now that I heard someone else say it, it doesn't seem like that much of a problem, does it?”

Anton knew the look that Zac had on his face. It was of embarrassment, embarrassment that his problem seemed to not actually a big problem once he talked it through with someone else. Anton wanted to raised his spirits.

“That doesn't matter.” Anton said, getting an odd look from Zac, “The point is that you've got it sorted. Sometimes, it's a simple as talking it through with someone.”

“I suppose.” Zac said quietly. Anton did not miss that he seemed a little happier, though he did not want to leave it there.

“I wasn't a designer or a city planner before I arrived here, but is there anything else you are having issues with? Like resources?”

Zac shook his head. “The stonemasons from Maxill have got that side of things handled and we're doing alright with mining, also thanks to those people you got from Maxill the time before. I've got the boys working as best they can with the wood as well. They do have to go pretty far, to the western forest, but we've got loads more of those carts, so that's not a problem.”

“Sounds like you've got everything else well under control.”

“Well, since you're here, could you help me plan out how these expansions are going to work.” Zac looked a little sheepish. “Since...Since you're here.”

“Sure.” Anton said, moving closer to the table.

It took them quite a few minutes but they ended up with a plan for Atros. Anton stood back and let Zac do most of the work, only speaking up if he saw something that might be a problem.

The new plan followed the idea of the repeating template, at the very least making each expansion ring essentially the same. Instead of dividing the next area into three sections, they divided it into four, using the roads coming from the four gates as dividers. A road ran through the middle of the expansion section, wide enough for two carts to travel past each-other, with space for many houses and barns. A few spaces had been left open for trees and other types of greenery.

Anton did not know much about city planning, but it looked very good. Zac was of a similar mind.

“I'm liking this a lot.” he said. “This will really help with constructing Atros to be a great city.”

“It looks pretty good.” Anton added.

A twitch of a thought cropped up at the back of his mind.

“What about the crops and plantations?” Anton asked. “I don't see them on any of the maps.”

Zac groaned.

“No, they're not.” he grumbled.

Zac looked deeper before shrugging. “I'll just have to talk with Sybil and find out exactly where they currently are and where they plan to put more. Work them together.”

Anton nodded. “I think that the plantations and crops could be moved further away so we have more room for buildings. We've got carts to bring the harvest in.” Anton chuckled. “Don't tell her like that, but try and work that in when you talk to her. Mention something like it'll save them having to replant and keep moving.”

“I'll give it a go.”

“We've got enough carts spare for moving the harvest about....It shouldn't be a problem.”

“Well, thank you for your help, Anton.” Zac said with a tiny bow of his head.

Anton smiled, waving his hands. “I didn't do anything really.”

Zac started to collect the pieces of paper into a pile, he stopped and glanced towards Anton before continuing.

“The other day, after the Kobolds had been finished off, you said that you wanted one of the stonemasons for something. But you didn't say what for.”

“Ah. Yes. I need to get some way to better repay my gods that have given me these powers.” Anton held up his hand with the three glyph markings. “One of the ways that people without access to magic, which is everyone except for Verona and myself, to help the gods is to pray to them. I wanted to make a few stone shrines to them so I can start doing that.”

Zac stopped and looked at the marks. “I don't see a problem with that.” he finished collecting the papers and put them back underneath the table. “Those gods of yours are probably the only reason this village is still alive. But, how does anyone actually pray to the gods?”

“I...I don't know.” Anton answered, a little regretfully. It was the truth. “They really were a bit vague about it, they're vague about a lot of things, but I would guess that it would be offering up something like a prayer or a thanks at it.”

Zac looked rather dubious.

“I know. But, I promised my gods that I would and I mean to follow through with it. Oh, we'll also need one for Verona's god.”

“It sounds like she doesn't like her god very much.”

“She doesn't, after what happened to her. The relationship is quite bad at the moment. But we've agreed that we would do our best to work with her rather than against.”

Zac hummed in agreement.

“I don't have a problem with taking one of the better stonemasons away from the quarry to make some of those. There should be a delivery of raw stone soon so they'll be swarming around it...What does Verona's mark look like?”

“It's like a tear-drop with some swirls coming off. Unlike mine it's on her lower back. I'll see about getting a drawing of it. She's not to confident in showing off any of the marks that cover her body, bar a few on her hands. I also don't want to show her off.”

“Well, I'm sure that a drawing will do fine for them to work from.” A smile formed on Zac's face. “Those drawings that you gave Jonathan looked pretty interesting. He got something going from that.”

“Thanks.” Anton felt a rush of pride at being told his rough sketches were good.

Zac picked up a spare piece of paper and handed it to Anton. “I'll see you in a bit. It'll be good for me to check in all my workers and find out how they're going.”

“Right. I'll see about getting the drawing then meet you back here.”

---[]---

Anton walked back to his house. Many of the people that he passed gave him a small nod and made sure that they were not in his way. It felt quite strange to see the people behave like that, like he was a moving rock in a stream, but it did mean that his way was not impeded by anyone.

I shouldn't try to get used to this, or try and enforce it. It could start to warp the way I perceive myself. Might even make me start to behave like Duchess Belinda did...Let's hope it doesn't ever get that bad.

He entered the house and travelled through to the back corridor of their house. Light came through one of the rooms at the far end. In that room at the back, there was a slightly ajar door that looked almost similar to the wooden wall. As he opened the door, leading to what would soon be their garden, he saw Verona sitting in the middle of the overgrown weedy grass. Her whole body glowed bright red. She stared at the large blood crystal infront of her. The crystal folded and continued changing shape while she took slow and steady steps. She was taking the training to control her powers very seriously, even though she said she was not going to. She did not even realise that he was there until he coughed loudly.

The crystal shuddered as she let out a gasp of surprise. She quickly regained control and forced it back into its normal sphere shape.

“Anton!” she said with a squeak of delight, standing up and putting the blood into the clay pots on her hips, “I didn't even hear you open that door. I guess I was really concentrating hard to have missed that.”

The power faded from her eyes and skin and she turned towards him. She smiled, wildly like she used to.

“Where did you get that blood?” he asked, his voice lightly grumbling in annoyance.

She had told him that she was not going to practice with her power. Verona bowed her head, and took a deep breath. “I need to keep going. To keep practising, no matter what. I'm not going to loose to this power. And....”

She looked up at him, her eyes having hardened like steel.

“I am going to master this.”

He pulled her into a hug, which she returned.

“Please....Please don't do that again. At not least while I'm not...” He did not want to have to explain what he meant, she seemed to understand.

“Okay.” she said flatly, nodding furiously. “It was just a little bit though....”

“So was what happened before.” Anton added, looking incredulous at her.

She winced again, looking like a child that had just been caught stealing.

“I'm sorry.”

He sighed, releasing her from the hug. Bringing his hand up to her forehead, he brought his middle finger up, and flicked her hard in the head.

“Ow.” she said, frowning while desperately trying to hold in a smile.

“Please don't do something so dangerous again.” he said, rubbing the area.

She nodded and gave him another hug. When she parted, a smirk started to form on her face.

“So...are you done already?” she had a wicked smile as she pulled down on his shirt for a kiss, frenzied but brief.

Anton gave her another kiss on the forehead after they parted. “Not yet. But, I've got the thing with Zac sorted.”

“That was quick.”

Anton shrugged. “It wasn't much. He just needed someone to talk his ideas through, it was nothing serious.”

Verona smiled as she gave him a hug. “I thought it would be. He's a tough man.” she smiled as she looked up at the sky. “He fought quite hard during the Kobold siege.”

“I thought he wouldn't have fought.” Anton said. “With the Yellow Goblins he said he wouldn't fight. He only really did at the end.”

Verona shrugged. “Perhaps he changed his mind. He didn't look very happy when he did have to fight.”

“It's his right to not like having to fight.” Anton coughed to focus himself.

“Since you were doing it when you weren't meant to...” Verona groaned in embarrassment, “...how are you going with your magical practice.”

Verona smiled and hummed happily. “Very well. I'm not having many of those shivers any more and it's becoming easier to control the feeling.” She scratched her cheek, looking very sheepish. “Though I don't know how I'll do in an actual battle. I hope the next one I get into is just a little one, so if something goes wrong it'll be easier to get get myself out of it.”

“But,” Anton raised his hand, Verona's smiled turning to a frown. “I don't want you to go too hard with something like this. I don't want you falling into one one those trances again.”

Verona looked very apologetic. He had already told her that it was fine, though he knew that it was not that easier for her to just accept that it happened and it was not her fault. Her face quickly changed back into the smile. She moved back to where she was sitting and picked up something, moving back to him. It was the stalk of a fruit, the Karak fruit.

“I had to have one so I could keep going. We don't have many of these left on that strange looking tree.”

“Another thing that we need to sort out. We'll have to see Sybil about getting a few more of those plants growing.”

Verona nodded. She turned to the far right side of the garden against the surrounding wall, towards Kal. She was not paying them much attention, though he was sure that someone like her would have made sure it was someone friendly before continuing on with her work.

Both of her hands were rolling the herb leaves into tightly bound rolls on top of a flat slab of stone. When she was done with one roll she sprinkled a orange powder over the roll, quickly disolving into the slightly damp roll. Judging by the number of rolls to the side of her, she had been doing it since he left the plaza. It had not been that long too. She was quite industrious.

“How are you going Kal?” he asked as they both walked over.

She looked up, a stern face engrossed in work softened to a warm smile.

“Very good.” she replied, a slight weariness to her voice. “I've almost used up everything that I've been able to take from the Kobold camps.”

Anton squatted down while Verona sat down and lent against him. He picked up one of the rolls, Kal's hand twitched as she reached out to stop him, but held herself back. She brought her hand back into her lap. Quickly she moved to continue with the few pieces of herbs she had left.

The roll looked to be a mixture of many of the different types of healing herbs that he had seen over the time he had been on this world.

“I'm a little bit confused about this.” He said.

Kal stopped and looked up at him, raising a deep aqua eyebrow in question. She said nothing, waiting for him to further clarify his query.

“I mean, I understand that these are all healing herbs, and whatnot, but I don't understand why you don't just do it the way we do it.”

Kal frowned deeply. A strange mixture of confusion and annoyance came over her face. She took a few moments, took a deep breath, and picked up one of the herb rolls. As she held it in her fingers a look of wistfulness and longing. Again, it was gone immediately after it emerged.

“In Seocuria, slaves are not given much in the way of care. We were expected to look after ourselves. If we don't...” she sighed lightly. “Well, they were allowed to die. Mainly through beatings as they can't keep up with the work.”

“That place just seems to be getting worse, the more I hear about it.” Anton moved to sit properly. “I'm glad that you managed to get away from there.”

Kal smiled painfully. He immediately realised that it might have been the wrong thing to have said. As he raised his hand to apologise, she stopped him.

“I am glad to be away from there, one of the very few to have survived such a thing.” she said. “I won't say it was easy....or good what I had to do. But...”

She looked back down at the roll of herbs. Even Verona squeaked in empathy. That seemed to be the end of line of that conversation.

“Anyway, these are what the slaves managed to come up with.” She held it in between two of her fingers. “These herbs were planted near our....pens, huts, and we were allowed to keep them.”

She chuckled as she looked at it more closely.

“Though, I only think that it was so that they didn't have to spend money, time or effort on keeping us healthy.”

“What do you do with it?” Verona asked.

Kal smiled and pulled out a knife, cutting it into three parts. Without warning she put one into her mouth and began to chew.

“If it was something on the skin,” she began to explain, still chewing, “some of the others would chew it and then put it over the spot and bind it with whatever we had spare. If it was something a bit more serious, like blood poisoning, they would keep chewing on these until they got better, or they died.”

Anton picked up one of the cut pieces. “Did they work on someone that was really sick?”

Kal shrugged, continuing to chew. She was making great effort not to show her canine teeth.

“Depends on what they had. If it was something really bad....sometimes they would refuse it, and just walk up to a slave guard and try to strike them. They were beaten to death there and then.” She took another sigh. “They knew they wanted to die but..."

Kal groaned, shook her head, and refused to talk further about it.

“But,” she began again, “It does allow us to carry them more easily when we move and work.”

She stood up and put several of the rolls into a cloth fold around her hip. Each seemed to remain in there while she stretched and moved, to demonstrate that it would not fall out.

Anton looked back to his piece.

“Why haven't we done something like this?” he asked.

Kal shrugged as she took her seat. “You probably don't need to. This doesn't work as well as the stuff you use, the way that humans use them. We used it because it was quicker and more easy to use while we worked, we didn't have to stop while we healed. Not that it's any better.”

Verona picked up a roll herself. “I think we could use these.” she looked towards Anton, “You know, for people like Dana's riders. They could carry a few of these with them and they could use them when they're out and about. I'm sure that it would be better for them to get some sort of treatment on a wound right away rather than them waiting to get back to Atros. Especially if you aren't there.”

“That's a good idea. Though I don't think that's what Kal meant when she said she wanted to be of use.”

“I'm just glad that I have something that I can do that's useful.” Kal said with a smile.

Anton frowned. “I think that you have much more to offer Atros than just this, though I'm not saying that this isn't useful. Thanks Kal.”

Kal opened her mouth to speak but no noise came out. She held a smile though.

“Right.” she said. “But I am glad that something I've done could be of use.”

Anton and Verona smiled.

“Actually, Verona, I need something from you.”

“What's that?”

“I've got Zac to get the stonemasons to start making the shrines.” Verona started to tense with his words. She knew what he was getting at. “So I'm going to need to make a copy of the glyph mark at the small of your back.”

Verona scratched awkwardly at her hands.

“I wanted to get a charcoal drawing of it, along with mine, and then give it to Zac's stonemason. That way we won't need to show off your back to anyone. They can do that while we move onto the next thing.”

Verona and Kal frowned.

“What's that?” Kal asked. “Oh...heading to Graterious.”

There was something beneath her face before it vanished. She was very good at doing that.

“My plan is to start heading that way in a few more days, but before that there is one thing that I want to check out.” he looked at Kal. “Thinking about those Green Goblins that you ran into gave me a few thoughts.”

He looked north, towards the mountain in the distance.

"What's there?" Verona asked, turning back to him. “That's just where....”

"It's been about thirty or so days since anyone's been near the mountain."

"Okay." Verona mumbled, looking towards Kal who looked a little stumped herself.

"And the closest we are there now, bar the new lookouts on the mountain that are being built, is the iron and coal mine."

"And you don't know if something else has moved into the mountain." Kal said, getting a cautious nod from Verona, "So you want to go there and just make sure."

"Exactly." Anton nodded. "There are many entrances into the mountain. I'm thinking of using my magic to close them up. Should have done that the straight after beating the Yellow Goblins. Stop any sort of Goblin, Rock-Rat, or whatever else exists from building a home."

Something flickered at the back of his mind, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Verona nodded happily. "The last thing that we need is another attack from the north before winter has even arrived."

A slight frown formed on her face. "Do... Do you want me to come along? I think I've got a decent hold on my power. If there is something there it'll be a good chance to try it out a bit."

"Yeah." He gave her head a rub, making sure not to dislodge the red and silver barrette, "It'll be a good chance for all of us to get more experience in prowling through the wilderness."

That phrase caused Kal's ears to twitch in surprise. She caught his eye, her face flushing lightly as she stared into his own.

"So Kal, is it possible that you could guide us through that area safely? Our guide?"

Kal was completely stunned. Someone had just asked her for something, something that she could do. The herb mixture was still in her mouth, she did her best to remove it surreptitiously, not that she could do that with both of them waiting for her to answer.

"Y... Yes! I'll be honored to." she exclaimed, her voice broke slightly at the end.

"That's the attitude." Verona's smirk widened.

Some of the enthusiasm dropped from Kal's face, as if she felt she had overreached her position. However it returned when she saw his smile, and saw Verona's. She was gaining confidence.

Kal smiled. "I don't know the area well-"

"Neither do we." Anton said. "But I'm sure that you've been through places like this before."

Kal smiled warmly. "I will make sure that I guide you both safely."

It was so nice to see her so happy. Her smile was almost as wild as Verona's.

"But, before we get to that we need to get the stonemason thing done."

"Right." both girls said in unison. They both gave each other a warm smile.

Verona stood up, motioning for him to do the same. She raised her arm so he could get at the clasps to free her chest armour. Kal returned to making the last few rolls of healing herbs while Verona wriggled her way out of the armour.

Anton gathered the paper and charcoal from near the door and brought it over. Verona rolled up the back of her shirt, enough that he could see the glyph mark. He laid down the piece of paper and did his best to copy the mark. It was quite difficult to get a good copy on the grass and weeds.

Kal saw him struggling and handed him the flat rock she had been using. She made a concious effort not to look at the marks that now covered most of Verona's body, but she still managed a peek.

I suppose I would want to see it for myself.

Anton mouthed a silent thank you before returning to the drawing. It did not take him long. He gave Verona a tap on the back to let him know that he was done. While not an artist, he felt that he had done a good job of recreating the tear drop shaped glyph, along with the immediate swirling marks that were still present in the gods dream. The spear, running through the middle of the glyph, remained. It was Verona's main weapon of choice. Jira, if people would actually pray to her, would hopefully understand.

"Okay." He began, showing them both what he had done. "Just my three now."

---[]---

With the marks copied they headed towards the south of Atros. He hoped that Zac was waiting. Anton saw him first, standing happily outside of the workshop with one of the Maxill stonemason bondsmen.

"Anton," Zac said happily as he waved them over, “I've got the best stonemason with me.”

The stonemason, an strong man with wisps of grey coming through his black hair. When he saw Anton he bowed his head.

“Grand Mage!” he bowed his head again as Anton approached.

“That title again. Have you talked to the people working in the smithy?” Anton asked.

The man shook his head, averting his eyes.

“No, Grand Mage. It is the highest rank of magician in the Qaiviel Kingdom. It does not do you justice.”

“Please raise your head.” Anton said, the man snapping his head upright. “I don't really want to be called a Grand Mage like that. Just Anton will be fine.”

“Very well sir.” the man said. “Master Builder Zac said that you had something that you needed from me.”

“Can we go inside?” Anton asked.

Zac nodded and led them all inside. Verona and Kal peeled off and started to look at the tools and other items while Anton, Zac and the stonemason moved to the table at the back. Zac had kept it clean from the other papers.

“I need you to make a small stone statue just like this.” Anton unrolled the paper with the glyphs drawn on them, pointing to Verona's mark.

Zac and the stonemason looked at it, Zac took a glance back at Verona, who was looking at one of the balance looking devices that the bondsmen had brought with them from Maxill.

“How big do you want this?” he asked.

Anton had not given in much thought.

“Um...About the size of a head?”

The stonemason looked between him and the paper, before nodding.

“We only have the granite from the mine to the south to build it from. There doesn't seem to be any marble or anything else nearby. Will that be fine?”

“Granite will do fine.” Anton said, “How long will it take you to make one of these?”

“I...I don't know. To make sure it's done well it could take a day or two.” he looked back at the drawing. “It might take me a while to get it done right. I've never had to do something like this.”

“There's more than just that one though.” Anton added.

The stonemason looked at him confusingly.

“The other three drawings, one of each of those too.”

He grumbled as he scratched the back of his head. “I can do it but it'll take a while. I can't say when it'll be done.”

His face frowned slightly.

“Are these related to your gods?” he asked, his face otherwise blank. “The old gods? As we were taught in Qaiviel?”

“Yes.” Anton replied. “These are their marks. I and want to repay them for what they have done to help us.”

A smile formed on his face. “Did they give you power to use the lightning and fire magic that you used the other day?”

Anton chuckled. “That, and other things.”

“And we can get that if we worship at these shrines?”

Here goes nothing.

“I can't promise you that it'll happen, but you'll be right next to a place where the god's power comes through. So if there is a chance to gain their power and their blessing, that'll be the best bet.”

“Wow.” the man looked back in awe at the drawings. “I'll get on this as soon as I can.”

He turned to Zac. “I'll need my apprentice to help me, and I'll need to borrow a few people to get the stone somewhere where I can start to work.”

“Get on it.” Zac ordered, the stonemason bowing his head and running out. Anton heard him yelling at someone the moment he was outside.

“That's one thing sorted.” Anton mumbled.

“What will you be doing now?” Zac asked. “I don't think you can help us much more...unless you are willing to use your magic so the workers can work even harder?”

“That could be a good test for my mana reserves, but right now we're going to be heading north, to the mountain.”

Zac said nothing and waited for Anton to continue.

“It's been too long since we've been to the mountain. And it's about time that we sealed up the entrances. We don't want more Goblins to make a nest there again.”

Zac grunted and nodded.

“That we don't.” He looked out the window of the barn at the sky. “You might want to think about explaining what you're doing. Otherwise they might all coming running to you if they hear any more of those lightning powers of yours rumbling down from the mountain. It hasn't been too long since those damn Kobolds attacked.”

“Thanks, that's a good point.”

Anton held out his hand, who Zac shook roughly.

“Come on, you two.” Anton said, catching Verona and Kal's attentions. “We're going on a trip.”

----------------

Hello Everyone.

Sorry for the delay. Got bogged down in Real Life, and things sort of got away. However, I have complete a lot more chapters. Should be one out tomorrow.

This chapter. Admin, planning the future for the city. Planning for the old medieval cities were a bit hapazard, so stopping that from becoming a thing. A few other things like that, with the former bondsmen bringing some basic technology. Not going to have it that they haven't though of these things before Anton arrived.

Getting the shrine...tablets?...ready. Those won't be ready for some time, but got them going.

Also Verona pushing herself and Kal bringing a thing from her past. Also her deciding whether or not to share what happened in the cave. She will eventually.

The thing with the Goblin is pretty self explanitory, though not everyone is clearly onboard with it.

Right, that's that. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the delay.

Chapter 046 - Down to the Depths

Chapter 046:

The clanging of metal, and the shouts of men and women training, greeted Anton as they entered the training fields in the north of Atros. Villagers, old and new, ran from one side to the other, while others practised against each other with blunted training weapons. It was an awe inspiring sight. Many had divided themselves into smaller groups to practice hand to hand fighting. Some one on one while others tried their best to simulate being attacked from two sides. A few were practising with bows and crossbows, underneath the watchful eyes of their trainers. There seemed to be no distinction between former Bondsmen and the villagers practising. That what very heartening to see.

None of them paid them any attention as they walked through. He was impressed by their dedicated to their practice.

“So...” Anton mumbled out aloud. “Where are the sheriff and his deputies hiding? They might know where Jeff is.”

Verona tugged on his sleeve, pointing towards a group of villagers to this side of the training field. There was about thirty of them. These, unlike the normal soldiers, stood extremely upright and in a line. Infront of them stood Jeff and another man. All of their attention was directed at them.

Anton looked down at Verona.

“The one next to Jeff is Dennis.” she said, glancing around at the soldiers on the other side of the field. “Guess he's really moving quickly.”

Anton hummed in agreement. As he looked more closely, he saw that Dennis had several bands of bright blue cloth in his hands.

Is that going to be some sort of band they wear around their arm? That's not a bad idea. It'll be instantly recognisable from a long distance away. Guess that blue is going to be the colour of law and order here as well.

“Let's go introduce ourselves then.” Anton said, moving forward.

He took a quick glance backwards to make sure that both were following. Verona seemed to be at home here, and Kal too appeared quite relaxed. Perhaps it was the open spaces, but surely the sheer number of armed soldiers around her would have caused her some grief.

I don't know much about slavery, but I suppose that they wouldn't have hundreds of armed soldiers training around them. Though, there would have been many soldiers to keep them in line...unless Seocuria had some other way of keeping order.

Anton shook his head to focus himself. Jeff saw them approaching and waved them over.

“Anton, Verona, Kal. These are the first Deputies of Atros.” He said, waiting until they stood next to him and Dennis before waving towards them.

The new deputies snapped to attention, and brought their hands up into a salute.

“They seem quite...motivated.” Anton said.

“They are.” the man called Dennis answered. “With Commander Jeff's direction and selection, he picked the best people for the job of enforcing law and order.”

Anton studied the man. He was certainly Dana's brother, there was not much to phyisically differentiate the two. Unlike his sister he did not seem cold or detached in his voice. Now, with the power and responsibility of the whole of Atros, he was bursting with energy and enthusiasm. That energy had infected the new deputies.

“All thirty of these people are from....before.” Jeff said. “So, they should have loyalty to Atros.”

“Shouldn't you get some people from the new bondsmen?” Anton asked.

Jeff looked at Dennis. Dennis looked very awkward as he scratched his head.

“I have thought about that, um, Anton, but we do not know them well enough yet.” he answered. “After a little while I'll see about getting some of those as part of the deputies.”

“What about the first ones from Maxill?” Verona asked, as she peered around Anton, raising a silver eyebrow. “Like Raston, he's fine.”

Dennis coughed awkwardly.

“I...I haven't got to them yet.” he answered, looking to Jeff. “Jeff, are there any of them that you would recommend?”

“A few.” Jeff said. “I'll add them to the list for the deputies.”

Why not before...Oh well. Just so long as it's done.

“So, Dennis.” Anton began. “How will you deal with any criminals that emerge?”

Dennis shuffled his feet on the ground before looking straight at the assembled deputies. This was the first test of his position.

“If...Well, in any case of criminals, we would like to catch the offender in the act. If not, we will have to try our best to find out the truth from those we question and the things we find.”

Good start.

“I'm not going to patronise any of you, trying to tell you how yo do your jobs, but there are a few things I would like to speak about.”

Dennis nodded thoroughly.

“If the perpetrator, of a crime, was a deputy or a friend, would you arrest them and enforce the punishment?”

Dennis looked to the deputies. “Anyone who commits a crime will be arrested and punished.” he said defiantly. “Regardless of our relations to them.”

“Good. And the final thing I want to know...Is that if a crime involves a Beast-kin, victim or perpetrator, will you work harder to get to the truth of the matter?”

That brought Dennis, and the deputies, pause. Their eyes drew over to Kal, who held her stare and ground. It was an important question. What he did not want was the beast-kin to be discriminated against, either for or against. He wanted them as equals to everyone else, even though he knew that would be something extremely difficult for both sides.

Dennis coughed. “We would....We will treat every crime, involving a beast-kin or human or whomever, the same. It will not even come into question.”

A shudder of relief overcoming his face when Anton nodded.

“Good.” Anton heard Verona mumble quietly.

Kal mumbled something similar, though he could have just been hearing things.

“An I'm sure that applies to you, as well?” Anton asked the assembled deputies.

A quick shiver of fear overcame their faces before they corrected themselves.

“Yes sir!” they yelled in unison.

Anton gave them a polite nod and turned to Jeff and Dennis.

“I look forward to seeing how well this goes.” he said, holding his hand out for Dennis to shake. “We all expect you to perform well in your role.”

“I will, sir.” Dennis said, shaking his hand. His hand was cold, slightly damp and trembling.

“I've taken up enough of your time,” Anton said, “I wish you all luck with your duty.”

“Thank you.” Dennis gave a final nod before returning to the deputies. He seemed very glad to be away from Anton.

Anton stepped back and towards the most northern gate. “Glad to see that he seems to be heading in the right direction.” Anton said to Jeff when he came alongside.

“Did you try and intimidate him?” Jeff asked.

Anton shook his head. “No. Just wanted to make sure that they are fully aware that they are not going to be discriminatory against someone that's not from Atros, even if they are Beast-kin or not. I remember hearing that there are other sentient creatures here as well. They might choose to live in Atros, or our other cities, as well someday in the future, and I don't want to have to try and change it then. Start it now.”

“Right.” Jeff said, taking a deep breath. “I wasn't sure about bringing people from Maxill into something like this straight away....I wasn't the best person at figuring out who is a good, or bad, person.”

Anton knew what he was talking about.

“I....I think just one or two from the first batch we got from Maxill would be a good start.” he said, avoiding what Jeff was alluding to, “You might want to consider asking Raston for help. I trust him, and he'll probably know who's good or not.”

“I'll have to find him, but I'll give it a go.”

Jeff glanced between all three of them.

“Are you here for some training?” he asked. “You look like you are.”

“We're heading to the mountain.” Verona answered, pushing out her chest in pride.

Jeff looked at him, full of confusion.

“The mountain has been abandoned for a while. It'll be a good idea for us to go there and seal the entrances. Just in case anything has tried to make a nest there.”

“That's...That's a good idea.” Jeff said. “I've already spoken to Zac about building a watch-post on the far side of the mountain. Soldiers have already been sent over to man the position. You may want to see them on your mission. See if they've seen anything crawling about.”

“Thanks Jeff.” Anton said.

He looked to the mountain in the distance, letting out a groan.

“I forgot how far away that thing is.” he said aloud. “I don't know how to ride a horse yet.”

“You know how to ride in a cart, though?” Jeff asked, a smile forming on his face.

“Why?”

Jeff nodded his head towards the northern gate. Just in front was a cart, being drawn by an Ix. On the cart were several small crates and an assortment of villagers.

“There's an idea.” Verona wore an awkward smile.

---[]---

The cart rumbled and bounced as they travelled to the mine. Anton sat near the back, along with Verona and Kal. The front was filled with supplies and the villagers that were meant to be going to the mine. They joined in at the last moment and had to fit in where they could. Not that the others seemed to mind.

“At least it's not as bad as the time when we travelled to the lake.” Anton said to Verona, seeing that she was handling it better than she had last time.

“That was a terrible trip.” She answered, putting one finger into her throat. “What happened to that driver? Did Jeff get rid of him?”

Anton looked to the front, and at the man leading the cart. He could not see the front of the man but he looked decidedly familiar.

“I...I don't think that we should ask.” Anton said, sitting back down into his position.

Something was starting to bother him. A feeling crawled at the back of his mind whenever he looked at the mountain. Talking about it was fine, now that he was here he could not shake the feeling. A mountain was just a mountain, but what he did in there was not normal. What happened there was not normal. Not by a long shot.

“Hey, Kal.” Verona asked, Kal turning away from looking at Atros and to her. “Did you ever ride in a cart before? When you were travelling?”

She shook her head. “Someone like me could not go very close to larger cities or villages without getting caught. Any carts and caravans that were travelling, in the places that I could travel safely, always had armed guards with them to deal with monsters and bandits. Someone dressed like I normally am...” A bitter smile crossed her face. “They would think that I'm working with any bandits. I don't want to be hanged from a post.”

“That's what Graterious does to bandits?” Anton asked, trying to distract himself from the feeling.

Kal nodded. “If they catch them. Bandits are very quick and dangerous. It makes travelling on the roads quite dangerous. Some times the monster infested wilderness can be safer.”

“I don't think that anybody would allow this to keep going on for long.” Anton added.

Kal shrugged. “One of the last things that I heard was that they were starting roaming patrols that would hunt bandits. From what little I overheard they were doing okay.”

“Another thing we'll need to look out for when we travel there.” Anton rubbed his beard. “Still, better that we know now. We'll just need to bring a few extra soldiers with us.”

Kal breathed deeply, like she was about to say something, but held back.

“I...I...If I come with you, I'll need to be completely covered at all times, at least when I'm outside.” Kal said. “A half-breed would stand out.”

“Got it.” Anton said. “We'll make sure that happens.”

He looked towards the mountain, missing the worried look that Verona gave him.

After almost half an hour, travelling at a decent speed, they arrived at the final ridge before the base of the mountain.

Anton, for the first time, saw the mine that provided the iron ore and coal for Atros. It was essentially a large pit at the base of the mountain, with some wooden buildings relatively close to the edge. On one side was an enormous pile of dirt and small rocks. As they got closer he could hear the sound of digging, and men and women shouting in exertion. Pick axe heads rose above the top of the pit and then drove back down. It seemed the mine was not that deep yet, just very wide.

A whistle, by one of the soldiers standing on-top of one of the buildings, caught his attention. Quite a few armed soldiers emerged from the few buildings.

“How many are there?” Verona asked, leaning over the side of the cart.

“Thirty two soldiers.” Kal answered.

“Quite a few.” Anton mumbled as they came to a halt. “Though, being so far away from Atros, they are quite a long from help so....I would think that there might even be more. We do have a serious manpower problem here.”

Anton hopped off the cart, quickly followed by Verona and Kal, as did the other workers. One of the soldiers came up to Anton, his attention was darting between them and the surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” He said. “I didn't know we were expecting you.”

“You weren't.” Anton replied, the man frowned. “We are here of our own volition. I wanted to see how the observation posts on the mountain are going, also...”

He turned to the mountain, the man following his eyes. “We're going to seal the mountain up as best we can. Have you heard anything strange coming from there? I don't think we want any more Yellow Goblins pouring out of there.”

Several of the soldiers tensed. Anton did not recognise them by name, but he felt that he had seen many around Atros before. A few looked like they were from the former bondsmen. They had not seen what those creatures had done to Atros.

“No.” he replied, glancing down. “No we do not.”

The bondsmen glanced at the solemn guards, but did not ask. There would be time after they left.

“We've only been here a day, but...” he moved in closer to Anton. “I do think that there might be something going on in there.”

Anton nodded, biting onto his lower lip. “It was about twenty odd days since you've been able to be here, and we haven't had enough people to surround it.” Anton put on his best apologetic smile. “I should have sealed all of the tunnels except for this one.”

He pointed to the large cavern entrance into the mountain. The same entrance that they had used when they finished the Yellow Goblins off.

The soldier shrugged. “Well, I...”

“The point is that I'm here to fix that.” Anton said, receiving a warm smile from several of the soldiers. “So, have any of you heard anything odd coming from inside?”

The soldiers looked at one another.

“Actually,” one at the back began, “I thought I heard something just before you arrived, coming from the cave.”

“What sort of noise?” Kal asked.

Quite a few of the soldiers looked oddly at her. Had they not expected her to speak until Anton spoke to her? He hopped that was not the case, especially for Kal's sake. A quick glance at her showed nothing of the sort. He hoped he was just overthinking things.

The man looked back at the entrance. “It...It sounded like something was scraping along the stone floor. I only heard it for a moment, but I'm sure I heard it.”

Kal looked down at the grass for some time, he could see that she was thinking very hard.

“Was there anything else?” she asked, still looking down, “Like a sort of chirping, or squeaking?”

Anton saw the man frown and nod.

“Maybe...There could have been something like that.” he glanced at the soldiers to his side, they nodded as well. “We were the closest but even then it was very soft and weak. When we moved closer we couldn't hear it anymore.”

Kal looked over to Anton. “It sounds like it could be Rock-Rat's.”

It did not fill him with a sense of dread, like it would have if she had told them that some Goblins were trying to make a home there, but it was still disconcerting. He could not help but let out a chuckle.

“Once something built has been abandoned, it won't take long for something to move in.” he mumbled.

He received quite a few odd looks from those around him, but he ignored them.

“Kal, how dangerous would Rock-Rat's be to Atros, or this mine?”

She spun around and looked at everything that constituted the mine, then at the mountain. A frown formed on her face as she pursed her lips.

“Very. They are very territorial and breed almost as quickly as the Green Goblins, if they had humanoid women to breed with. Thankfully, they don't want those, or men.”

The soldiers relaxed a little.

“But, that also means that they have no issues with killing a few humans, or a mine, or a cities worth, for being too close to their home.”

“So, we need to deal with them now.” the soldier at the front bumped his metal chest-piece. He turned to Kal. “How many do you think there could be?”

Glad to see that somebody doesn't have a problem with asking Kal something.

Kal was stunned for a second, before coughing to correct herself. “If...If it's been about twenty days, the first litter should already be reaching maturity. So, if there were only a hundred or so to begin with-”

“Only a hundred?” the soldiers now looked very worried.

“There could be three to four hundred now.”

None of the soldiers said anything. Anton could see them contemplating how they would fight so many, with just thirty two moderately armed soldiers.

“Shouldn't be a problem.” Verona rested her spear over her shoulders, a wicked smile forming on her face.

For either of them, it would not be a problem. The others did not see it that way.

"Especially not if they're in those tunnels. I'll just use the fire magic." He was not sure who exactly his was speaking to, though Verona chuckled as she rested her spear on the ground.

"I'll start by closing the entrance here. Just in case, if they are in there," Anton glanced at Kal, but she had not been offended. "So they don't all come pouring out against you."

"Right..."

"What ways do you have for contacting Atros?" Anton asked. "Just in case."

"We have a fire that we can light," He began, "So the soldiers on the north of Atros would be able to see and get help. We also have two of Dana's riders here, which can ride quickly to Atros to give them the message."

"Send one to Atros. Tell them to get every soldier we can spare to come here. That way you guys don't get killed by a horde of angry Rock-Rat's. I don't want for it to happen, but..."

"Thank you, Anton. We'll get the messenger ready."

With a wave of his hand, one of the soldiers ran towards one of the larger buildings. A few seconds later they emerged with an eager looking horse.

"I didn't think that Jeff and Dana had already got something like this sorted."

"They arrived at dawn this morning, and they told up what they were here for."

I must remember to commend them later.

Anton turned to the horse rider.

"Head back to Atros and tell Jeff that he needs to send soldiers here now. Tell them there could be Rock-Rat's."

The rider glanced around, unsure if he should go.

"Move!" He barked.

With a jolt he lurched forward and towards Atros. The remaining soldiers looked at him, looks of confusion plastered on their faces.

"I'm sorry that I kind of had to pull rank there," Anton began, "But you don't want to be all understaffed if those Rock Rats turn up when I start working."

They all nodded furiously.

"Plus, it'll give Jeff a test of readiness." Anton chuckled. "I hope he sees the good in it, and doesn't just yell at me."

"I'll let the men know what's about to happen."

"Before you do that, how will I find the lookouts? I would like to see those as well."

"Aren't you causing enough havoc here?" Anton raised an eyebrow at the soldier, the man reeling. "I... I didn't-"

"No. No, you are right." Anton waved to calm the man down. "We will wait until the soldiers arrive before starting."

"Thank you, Anton." this time he seemed genuinely thank full that he listened.

I should wait, and not be impatient about something like this. I don't want to be responsible for their deaths just because I could not wait an hour or so.

He looked towards the sun.

We've still got about six hours left of good light. The worst that happens is that we stay the night.

"Carry on with your duty, soldier."

He received salutes in return, they quickly dispersed and went about their business. They seemed to be taking great pains to work as far away from them as they could.

"Are they avoiding me?" He asked to Verona and Kal.

Kal shrugged, keeping her attention on the mountain. She would not yet know what a normal reaction should be. Verona, or the other hand, winced as she lightly took his hand.

"A little. But don't think too much about it. They do it to me." she sounded quite sad at the end.

A part of him wanted to hit whomever was treating her this way, his first thought was of Jira, but he quickly realised what she meant.

"Just telling them I was going to ruin their day probably didn't help."

Verona chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"Well, we're waiting until those soldiers arrive." Anton said. "I'm going to have a little look around at how the mine actually works."

"I'll come with you." Verona happily exclaimed.

"I want to have a closer look at the cave entrance." Kal pointed towards it. "There might be more clues as to how many Rock-Rats there are, and if there's anything we need to watch out for."

"You can tell that just by smell?" Verona asked.

Kal shook her head. "No. But, there might be something there. Something that only a Beast-kin can find."

A hint of pride graced her face as she ran towards the mountain, not waiting for any response.

"Guess we've got some time to kill."

---[]---

"Rock-Rats?" Jeff asked, leaning his whole weight onto a wooden table at the mining camp, looking up at Anton. "Hundreds of Rock-Rats making a nest in the mountain?"

"It is a serious possibility." Anton replied.

“I'm sure that I smelt something like that coming from the cave.” Kal explained. “It was weak and old, but I know what I smelt. It was from Rock-Rat fur.”

Jeff pushed himself off and stood upright. They stood outside of the largest of the mining camp buildings, along with two hundred soldiers and twelve horsemen that he had brought with him. Jeff was not angry when he arrived, but more surprised of what he had heard of what might be happening.

He scratched the back of his head underneath his iron helmet. Along with most of the reinforcement villagers, he had been issued with a set of iron chest, arm, leg armour along with a helmet. Jonathan had been working hard to churn out this many pieces. Now any creature would think twice of attacking these men and women.

"And if the Green Goblins lurking to the north east weren't bad enough." He grumbled.

"Better this happening happens now, before we go, than afterwards." Anton said, trying to lift his mood.

A small smile broke out on his face. "That it is. You gave me a fright when that rider turned up, babbling nonsense about you needing men here."

"We don't need soldiers to help us seal the mountain." Verona said proudly. "But, we don't want to be the cause of people dying because of us."

"So, what will we be doing?" Avery asked. Like always he was silent and spoke with his cold voice. Of the two hundred odd soldiers, thirty were archers and crossbowmen.

"If everything goes well, nothing." Anton began. "Think of it as a training exercise. Something to teach them about...a rapid response."

"Sitting around then?" Avery chuckled.

"You are more than welcome to go into the tunnels and tell me where the Rock-Rats are."

Avery scoffed, but some of his frivolity disappeared.

"Okay." Jeff clapped his hands, "How long do you think it will take?"

"A while." Anton answered. "Quite possibly until night fall. I don't know how many entrances there are. Kal has very good senses, so we should be able to get most of them."

"I can't just find caves by you asking, you know?"

Everything went silent as they all looked to Kal. He did not know what to call it exactly. Snark perhaps? But, whatever it is, she had just done it. An uncontrollable smile formed on his face, as she began began to understand what she had just said. A light flush started to creep over her face. Even as she fought it down, she opened her mouth to speak, quite probably to apologise. Whatever it was, she did not say it. Her confidence in herself was coming back.

"You're right, Kal. But, I'm presuming that you can find most of the cave entrances?”

Kal flushed brightly. Verona was nearly bursting with laughter, again, but she was holding it in.

“Yes. Yes I can. Though it will take me a little while to find them; the air coming out of them might be a little stale, there might be trails where water running out carved through the rocks and dirts. Things like that.”

Anton smiled.

“We'll get started then.” He said.

“I'll get the men to start digging some defences.” Jeff smiled broadly, folding his arms. “You're right, this could be a good chance to get some serious practice in.”

Anton gave a final nod before heading towards the mountain. As he walked away he heard Jeff, and Avery, begin to order the soldiers to work. There were a few grumbles of discontent, but they did not last long and did as they were told.

When he stopped infront of the entrance, he glanced back. The soldiers were using mining equipment to build earthen ramparts around the mine. Most of it came from the giant dirt waste pile.

“So. I suppose I'd better start.” he said.

“You going to use the lightning bombs?” Verona asked, standing a few paces back, along with Kal.

“Yeah. Though, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to close this tunnel.” Anton mused. “I suppose that I could use the tethering of a chain of lightning bombs and throw them into the ceiling.”

“I...I suppose that could work.” Verona answered, getting an inconclusive shrug from Kal.

“One way to find out.”

He took his time, summoning a tethered line of four lightning bombs. The thin line of twisting and writhing as it kept the lightning spitting balls.

Who knows if this is going to actually work.

With a push of mana the lightning bombs sailed forward into the tunnel. Standing as close as he dared, he stopped the bombs, took a deep breath and pushed them into the rock ceiling. The moment the bombs touched the rock ceiling they exploded. Each detonated in a blinding flash of light and sound, the sound of rocks tumbling quickly following. When the dust began to clear, the rocks began to creak and groan. Nearly ten meters worth of the rocks above sunk into the tunnel entrance, leaving a large rough channel above where the entrance once stood.

“Wow.” Verona said, coming up to him. “I don't see anyone getting through that.”

“I don't think so either. Kal, how well can the Rock-Rat's dig through stone like that?”

“The Rock-Rat's prefer to live amongst the rocks and caves, they don't need it to love. They don't often build into something as hard as this. They'll just search for somewhere else to make a home rather than dig through it.” she said as she walked up to the loose rocks, “But they could dig through this, given enough time. They'll probably just find another way in or out of the mountain.”

“Now we've probably just got dozens more to go.” Anton said, starting up towards the mountain. “You remember how much smoke was coming out of here?”

Verona nodded. She did not look to happy to remember that day either. “The whole thing looked like a chimney on the smithy.”

“How did you do that?” Kal asked. “I didn't think you had the power to make smoke.”

“I...”

Could I actually have that power? I suppose I could, smoke is a part of fire, though I haven't really seen it when I've used my magic. When it caused something to catch on fire, like wood, that released smoke, but my fire. I haven't tried it yet. Definitely not now.

“I'm not sure. I might be able to but I didn't do it this time. The Yellow Goblins had been collecting loot, and they had barrels of thick tar near the bottom. That smoked them out.”

Kal smiled and nodded.

“I'll...I'll head in front and find as many of the tunnels as I can.” she said, quickly moving infront. “I'll let you know when I find one.”

---[]---

Over the next two hours they found eleven tunnel entrances on the western side of the mountain. Anton closed them all with the tethered lightning bombs. However, Kal had not found any evidence of Rock-Rat's being present in the mountain. There were no piles of refuse or signs of habitation. It started to cause her a little pain as she could be seen to be wrong, that her concerns may be unwarranted.

She moved infront with increasing determination and restlessness to find the caves and evidence of the Rock-Rat's.

“Is she okay?” Anton asked Verona.

“I don't know.” Verona answered. “She seems a little out of it.”

“Kal?” Verona said, her voice light and teasing.

She did not answer and continued to look along the mountain, perched on a large boulder. Verona glanced at Anton.

“Kal?” Now Verona spoke more deeply and with authority.

Kal snapped her head back to them.

“You okay?” They both asked at once.

She looked around at the rolling landscape of dirt and stone. She let out a sigh as slid down the boulder and made her way to them. Barely a sound came from her as she walked gracefully over the rocky ground.

“Sorry.” she said, not giving any further explanation.

“Well.” Anton began, looking back to the peak of the mountain. “We're about at the halfway mark. We've even closed the entrance that we found when we infiltrated the mountain.”

“I thought we would have found some sign of the Rock-Rat's by now.” Kal grumbled unhappily.

“We've still got the rest of the mountain to cover.” Anton offered, “They may have come in through another way.”

Kal smiled. “I hope that I am wrong, but I know that they're here. Somewhere.” She grumbled again.

“The watch posts are meant to be above us.” Anton began, “They've been there for a day, so they might have seen something. We'll be able to get some food to snack on while we're there.”

Both of the girls smiled. They followed Jeff's directions leading to the watch post, through several large boulders and a path that Kal identified as being disturbed lightly by humans. They continued to follow the path until they came across a small wooden structure hidden amongst the rocks.

It was built between three very large boulders that lay in the shape of a triangle. Wooden planks had been placed over the top for shelter, and had been placed vertically to enclose the structure. He could see a small entrance at the front that led to another line of small boulders. These were small enough to see over the top while standing, so they could see out but not be discovered easily. It was quite good for what they had and where it was built.

However, he could not see or hear anybody. That was to be expected, in a sense, as this was meant to be a hidden outpost. He stepped forward, his shoes crunching on the light and small stones. Unlike the grey stones around these were white and looked more like sand. They did not look like they belonged right there. Were they an early warning system?

Anton was about to speak up, when both girls stopped him, Kal raising her arm while Verona pulled back on his shirt. He heard the sound of a bow being pulled tight, but Kal's was still fastened to her back.

A woman appeared around the side of the building, her bow drawn and aimed at them. Upon looking at them more closely she lowered the bow.

“Sorry about that. The next person is meant to be here tomorrow, so when we heard something coming towards us...”

She knocked her fist onto the wood, reverberating through the cool and still mountain air. Another three armed villagers emerged from the small structure. Two were men and the other was a woman. They wore full leather armour and wielded short spears and swords. Armour that would not gleam in the light and weapons more suited for the rocky and congested terrain.

“Our visit is unscheduled.” Anton explained. “I take it you've heard the explosions going on for the past little while?”

The woman nodded, ushering them into the structure. It was sparsely furnished, only sleeping gear and some small crates of food.

“Yes.” she answered. “We had a look and saw you moving about near the base of the mountain. By the looks of things you are sealing the tunnels.”

“Yes.” Anton answered. “Just in case something tries to come back and make a home in the mountain.”

The women tensed, and the men looked equally sickened. He did not know if they were from Atros originally, but they must have been told of what happened if they were not.

“Have you seen anything odd?” Kal asked. “I...” she glanced at Anton, who nodded her to continue. “Some of the soldiers at the mine said they heard something odd, and I'm sure that I've smelt old Rock-Rat fur. I've been told that they tried to take the mountain from the Yellow Goblins but failed. So they might be back.”

“We've been looking out as far as we can, but we haven't seen anything.” she answered.

He could see Kal's ears droop, along with her shoulders. She was determined to find proof of them, even though she had not been ordered to find them.

“That's a pity.” Anton said. “So nobody's seen anything odd?”

All shook their heads. They moved through to the lookout position.

This was another series of small boulders that formed an enclosure. They could see out, but it would be almost impossible for anyone to see them. All they would be able to see were some small heads over the boulders. A series of planks of wood had been placed nearby so they would be able to stand easily for hours on end. At least their feet would be flat and not trying to have to balance on the innumerable small rocks.

“Quite a sight here.” Anton said.

The watch post soldiers agreed, resting themselves on the boulders as they looked out. Kal stood next to him and sniffed at the air. Verona was stuck looking at the top of the boulder. She grumbled unhappily as she moved to the side, to a place where she could see over. It was a few meters away but she seemed happy that she could see over.

Between them and the mountain range to the north, the border of the Deweth Clans, was open and rolling grasslands. Many creatures roamed through the grass; Razor Pigs, Ix beasts and horses. There were probably the giant rabbit Thumpers hidden throughout. There was even something that resembled a giant chicken, brightly and flamboyantly coloured. He had seen it before, but had never asked what it's name was. There were quite a few of them roaming around. The other creatures paid them, or each-other, much mind.

They had seen this scene before but there was nothing significant there this time either. Specifically, there were not small furry creatures running through them.

“So there's just those creatures.” Anton hummed. “Those haven't been a problem? Have they?”

“Not yet.”

“There's something.” Kal pointed at the base of the mountain, to where the grass stopped and the dirt and stone of the mountain began.

There was something there, hidden amongst the dozens of giant boulders gathered there. They were at the very edge of his vision but he could see a few very small grey lumps that moved ever so slightly. Kal could see better than anyone there, so she could see what they really were.

“Hang on.” Anton said.

He chanted the enhanced eyesight power for himself. The world exploded into clarity, far better than what even Kal could see. He looked down at the lumps, which were no longer just grey fuzz at the straining end of his vision.

There were four grey creatures, small and diminutive. One looked around, he could see a rat like face from the side. He ended his enhancement and looked at the others.

“Four Rock-Rat's.” he said, much to the annoyance to the soldiers. “They've hidden themselves very well amongst those boulders, hiding amongst the grey stone.”

The woman clicked her tongue.

“How did we not see them?” She asked the others, none able to give a response.

“We'll head down and get rid of them.” Anton said. “Can one of you send a message to Jeff, tell him that we've found Rock-Rat's and to be on guard until they see us.”

“Yes, sir!” the soldier replied before dashing away.

Anton turned to the remaining soldiers.

“You guys should keep your heads down and your eyes out for any more Rock-Rat's that might be scurrying about.”

“I'm, I'm sorry that we didn't see them earlier.” A soldier bowed his head deeply.

“It's fine.” he said, tapping him on the shoulder to raise his head. “Most people haven't seen Rock-Rat's before. Besides, they blend in nearly perfectly; a stone grey rather a bright yellow or green. They're quite crafty creatures.”

“We will keep a better look out in the future, sir.” another soldier said. “They won't sneak up on us again.”

Anton nodded, looking back down to the Rock-Rat's below. It was not a good idea to always try to have the last word, or try and correct everything that was said.

“Verona, Kal.” he said, “Let's get those critters.”

---[]---

With Kal in the lead again, they moved silently down the rocky mountain face to a striking position above the Rock-Rats. Now that he was closer, he could see the differences between them. One's coat was a darker grey while one had patches of very light brown thrown randomly amongst the grey. Each looked far different to one another than the Goblins.

Kal brought them to a halt above the small tunnel entrance. The four were looking out to the plains, and not to the threat above them. They kept glancing towards the western side of the mountain. There was no way they would not have heard the thunderous explosion of his magic.

"Verona." Anton whispered as quietly as he could. "I think this would be a perfect time for your magic."

Verona glanced at the Rock-Rats, then to him. She pursed her lips and nodded.

She laid the spear against the stone delicately and pulled out a small knife. Her eye twitched, the glyph on her back had just changed. Changed to what type of implement she could draw blood through. With his hand outstretched Verona cut lightly into his hand. It stung but he knew that it would not last. She drew up enough blood to fill a clay pot then withdrew her hand. That was the sign to heal his hand.

"I'll get as close as I can before I strike." she said, stooping low and keeping her power on. If the Rock-Rats looked back they would clearly see her.

"How close does she need to be?" Kal asked.

"About... Twenty, no, sixty feet." He answered.

Verona already was forty odd meters away and rapidly closing in.

"Twenty what?"

"Hmm?"

"You said twenty, and it's clearly not twenty feet." she furrowed her brows, "So what was it?"

A need was present in her eyes, in her face. In her body. A need to know the truth. There was no way that she did not suspect something about his origin.

"I...I..."

Verona brought up the blood and formed it into the thin shards. She continued forward with the shards hovering just above her.

"Can you keep a secret?" He asked.

Kal ears pulled back in disbelief. Her eyes darted low, frantically looking at something.

Is that, is that guilt? Or is it something else?

She nodded furiously, keeping her attention towards Verona.

"Ask me later. After this." He finished, refocusing on Verona.

Kal gave a final hum of agreement.

Verona neared her maximum range and began to slow down. She looked for a boulder that she could hide behind while she struck. When she moved to her hiding space, the rays of the afternoon light bounced off the blood crystals and glinted towards the Rock-Rats. Anton felt his heart miss a beat as one turned to follow the light to her. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the four shards forward. They did not even let out a whimper as they died.

"That power is terrifying." Kal said, standing up and surveying the surroundings.

"And silent too, apart from when the crystals grind on something." Anton added.

Verona moved closer, using her power to pull the bodies away from he entrance. If they had friends coming soon they would just see the blood and not their dead bodies. They both moved as quietly as they could down the rocky slopes to Verona's position. Anton handed back her spear.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, reaching out and squeezing her arm.

Verona took a deep breath.

"I'm okay, right now. The urge isn't back yet and I'm keeping myself steady." she answered confidently. "I'll let you know if something starts to feel wrong."

Anton took her word and slowly moved down to the entrance. It looked the same as any other of the entrances they had sealed that day, other than the dead bodies.

"Do you want to seal it?" Verona asked.

She kept her power on and her hands ready.

"I think we should." Anton said. "But, how many Rock-Rats are there still in there? Could be hundreds of them. Breeding and building their nest. Do you know what they eat?"

She stopped for a moment before shaking her head.

"And when they dig themselves out they aren't going to be happy. That could be well after we're gone and I don't want to hear that Atros has gone through another siege while we are off in Graterious."

"You...You don't have to tell me that." Verona said worriedly.

She held his hand and looked into the cave. Only then did he realise that his hand was shaking.

"I...I think that part of me doesn't want to go in there." Anton brushed his hands through his hair. "I haven't really thought about it."

Verona squeezed his hand again, even Kal looked concerned.

"There were, what, forty women in there, being the Goblins play things..."

He felt his whole body grow cold. The less he thought about what happened there the better, and this was why.

"I...Um." He could not bring himself to say anything more.

"We'll be right here." Verona said, drawing up daggers of the blood.

Kal moved close to him and tried to be as supportive as she could. "Take a few deep breaths and it will help calm you down."

He was about to question her when he remembered what she had been though.

She's probably been through some shit experiences through her life. Just do it.

He stopped and followed her directions. While he did not feel normal, he did feel a bit better. More in control of himself and his magic. Verona smiled warmly at seeing him look a little better, and took the lead.

"Hang on." Anton stopped her. "We can't really see in there without a torch or my little fire ball. That'll just let them know we're coming. I have an idea."

He held Verona's shoulder and, despite a look of surprise and a tiny flinch, Kal's as well. In his mind he chanted a prayer to let them see in the dark like it was day. Like when he used the prayer for poison immunity, he gave no end time.

A rush of magic left him as the darkened tunnel infront lit up.

"Wow." Kal mumbled, her clothed fingers touching the skin around her eyes.

"That's really awesome." Verona said as she stepped forward. "What...What happened? You didn't make everything brighter..." she snapped her fingers, "You made it so we can see in the dark!"

"Yep." His voice trembled a little, he had still not recovered completely.

"So, how long does it last?" Verona asked.

"I don't think that it will until I tell it too."

"This is a very useful power." Kal said, crouching towards the cave and waiting near the edge. "If I had this before..."

"I think that it'll make it a little hard to go to sleep." Anton quietly said.

"So, what's the plan?" Verona asked.

"We go in as quietly as we can, Kal leading with her excellent senses." He saw that Kal straightened her back at being praised, "We'll be right behind her. We'll find the main nest of these things and then destroy them. Leave, and then seal the remaining tunnels."

He glanced around. "That sounds like a plan, right?"

Both girls looked at each-other and then at Anton.

"Should we not get some soldiers from the mine?" Kal asked.

"We could, but that would take time. Some Rock-Rat is bound to come here soon to check on their friends, or at least wonder where they are. Also, they'll make quite a bit of noise in the tunnels, and we don't want to leave them behind it something goes wrong."

Verona and Kal nodded. It was not the best plan, but they were with him regardless. He took another deep breath and ventured in.

--------------------

Hello Everyone!

A quick diversion to the new Sheriff, and potential problems with discrimation in all its forms.

A quick trip to the mine at the base of Mount Aspire, just an open pit really, and Anton backing off a bit with ordering around villager soldiers.

Got the little outpost hidden in the rocks...That'll be important soon. :)

Kal's now outright asking Anton about his past, pointing out his slip of words. It'll be good to see how she reacts, and whether or not she will trust them enough to tell what she found in the cave.

A few Rock-Rats. So hurray, they make a return. For a bit. They haven't been seen since the stone quarry, and a bit with cleaning up the Yellow Golbins.

And delving into the mountain. Got Anton with a bit of a worry about heading there, especially as he had to put down fourty mutilated women, and hasn't really spoken much about it. Every time it's brought up he moves on or pushes it down. Thankfully he's got people to help him.

Anyway, That's that.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 047 - Barred

Chapter 047:

Anton felt his fleet slide over the unsteady rocky floor of the tunnel, traveling deeper into the depths of Mount Aspire. He was glad that he could see without needing a source of light. It would give them a great advantage when they came across the rest of the Rock-Rat's. And would be a great spell for future use. Still, his heart was as steady as the floor underneath him.

Talking about returning to the mountain had not been the problem. But now that he was here, in its cold, numbing and claustrophobic depths, he could not help but remember what he did to the women they found. Nobody, to his knowledge, spoke about what they had found in there. Most were completely silent on the matter. Whenever such thoughts came back he pushed it down. He had not thought about it much since that day.

They wanted to die. I told them that we could get them to safety, but they made the choice that was theirs to make.

He took another deep breath, watching Kal sniffing at the air while running her hand along the side of the stone wall.

Oh well, I just need to man up about it.

With another mental push, he forced it down and focused on their mission. Kal was leading and Verona was right behind him. None of them spoke, a small rock tumbling loose by his shoe showed just how easily sound travelled in this network of tunnels. On reflection it was amazing that they got so far the first time without alerting the whole mountain. He got the feeling that Kal was going slow for that exact reason, that and the fact that Anton was not completely focused.

Kal lead them deeper and deeper into the mountain, occasionally stopping them with a raised hand, but continued quickly after. From what little he remembered about the mountain they were approaching the large central cavern that functioned as the Yellow Goblins main home. There was not much there, when they first attacked, so they had left it alone during their search of the mountain. It seemed like a good base for the Rock-Rat's to nest in, and exactly where Kal was leading them.

What was surprising was the lack of Rock-Rat's. He had expected to run into at least one or two of the beasts but so far their had been none. Nothing to hint that there were any more deeper into the mountain, but Kal was adamant. What was the point of the four at the entrance? Where they expecting more to come and they were going to guide the way? Nothing made him feel particularly good about being inside the mountain.

Finally Kal brought them to a stop. The tunnel widened into the large cavern that he remembered at the center of the mountain. Where the Yellow Golbins had nested thousands of their kind. She waved them closer to the end of the tunnel and pointed inwards. Inside were almost a hundred Rock-Rat's sprawled throughout the center of the cavern. Many looked to be in an advanced state of pregnancy, while others moved between, tending and nursing them. However, he could not see anything that they could be eating. There were no piles of food or even scraps.

I don't think they eat rocks or dirt. Insects or seeds? That seems a long way for them to travel out of the mountain...

“How many?” Anton whispered. He readied his mana for some lightning and fire magic in his mind just in case they managed to hear him, but they gave no sign that they had.

“About a hundred and twenty.” Kal answered, “Maybe more. There's something odd over there.”

She pointed to one of the downward tunnels on the far side of the cavern. A Rock-Rat, armed with a sharpened wooden stick, stood guard at an entrance. He was the only one not at the center. While the mass of Rock-Rat's had quite a few guards other than those tending to the mothers, this lone Rock-Rat was looked as if he was trying to stop anyone from entering that tunnel rather than stop possible intruders entering the cavern.

“Are we going to attack?” Verona asked. She kept her back to him and watched down the tunnel they came from. He was proud that she was taking care of things like their escape route without being asked.

“Just a moment.” Anton whispered back. “I want to see if there's any more that's going to come here.”

Verona looked at him, he could see her face clearly with his enhanced eyesight, and smiled. She turned her attention back to their rear while Anton continued to watch. He waited nearly a minute before he finally made up his mind to attack. Just as he raised his hand, to help control the lightning magic, Kal squeaked. It gave him pause as she nodded to the far entrance. Another Rock-Rat emerged from the guarded tunnel. Its coat was covered in dirt and dust. It shook it's body like a wet dog to remove tiny fragments of stone. The emergent Rock-Rat walked over to the main group and laid down. It look exhausted, its chest heaved with every breath.

“What was that about?” Anton asked.

Kal remained motionless. It was highly unlikely that she could know something about these Rock-Rat's in this cavern.

“They're digging.” she said, after some time.

She glanced up at the cavern's ceiling. “But, this place is so big. They don't have any need to even try to something like that. I don't think they would be trying to dig towards the sound of the lightning...”

“Are they attracted to gold or jewels?”

Kal shook her head. “Not really, not more than anything is attracted to something shiny. They could try and steal better tools and weapons though, iron swords and the like.”

“They do look like the best they can do on their are stone and wooden weapons. Wouldn't want to face them if they had iron, or Bosciycium weapons. Like a thousand needles carving away at you.”

Kal frowned as she turned to face him. “How would they get a hold of that?”

“This place, when it was infested with the Yellow Goblins, was a hoard of stolen weapons and gear. A hoard of everything that they had stolen from the collapsing Kar Kingdom. They got a hold of some of those.” He let out a sigh. “There could be more of that throughout the mountain, other caches of gold and weapons, but we found one and that was good enough for us. Nobody wanted to stay long in these twisting caverns.”

“Don't want them with the same armour that the Goblin Commander had.” Verona almost chuckled. “That stuff he wore stopped my magic. That wasn't a fun fight.”

“So, are you going to attack?” Kal asked.

He raised his hand, feeling a little sorry for the creatures, and the summoned the lightning bombs.

---[]---

The Rock-Rat's never saw it coming. All that Anton could be thankful for was that they had died very quickly, most were dead even before they knew they were under attack. Verona nor Kal had to aid in the fight, only a few Rock-Rat's even realised where the magic attacks were coming from. They were cut down before they could even let out a squeak. Kal had kept a watchful eye over the battlefield during the quick fight. Verona looked ready to lunge into the fray but kept herself in control, she kept most of her attention to behind them. Even with all their strength they could still be killed by a surprise attack from behind.

“I didn't see any escape.” Verona said in her normal voice. It echoed in the cavern. There were no Rock-Rat's to hear.

“Except those that might be down there,” Verona pointed to the formerly guarded tunnel. “There could be quite a few down there, tunnelling.”

Anton peered into the mess of bodies. The Rock-Rat's were completely naked. Fur covered their entire bodies, they had no use for the loin-cloths that the Goblins had. They moved the bodies but found nothing of value.

“There's nothing for us here." Anton said, both girls nodding in agreement. "Not point remaining here. We'll go down there and find out what they were doing. After that, we'll head out the tunnel we came from and seal the remaining entrances. I'm sure Jeff will be delighted that another race of creatures was able to get so close to Atros without his soldiers knowing.”

“Hang on a moment.” Verona said, running back to their tunnel.

She used the spear to grind a large cross next to the entrance.

“Just so we know.” she proudly spoke as she came back to his side. “I don't want to be wandering around this place.”

Verona looked up at the rough stone ceiling. “I don't like this place very much either.”

“I agree. The sooner we are done here the better.” Anton turned to Kal, her hand resting on the hilt of her daggers. “Are you comfortable on taking the lead again?”

Kal nodded and walked to the guarded tunnel. As they approached she took a deep sniff at the air. Even without an enhanced, magical or otherwise, sense of smell, he could tell that something was amiss.

“What's that I smell?” he asked. “It smells...really old and stale.”

“Smells like it's never had fresh air down here.” Verona added, faking a cough.

Kal hummed in agreement. “It's very old and stale air. But, far more so than anything in this mountain I've smelt so far.”

She turned to face them. “Did either of you notice something like this on your...first, time here?”

“Nope.” Verona answered first. “We were more worried about the Yellow Goblins crawling about than what it smelt like.”

“It was a little old and musty, but nothing like this.” Anton added.

He appreciated how Kal avoided saying the issue. Despite everything she had been through, she was capable of being delicate with him, even when his own problems were minuscule in comparison to her own troubles.

“I'll lead.” Kal said, readying her bow and knocking an arrow.

Verona waved him to follow, she took the rear again.

The air continued to become more and more stale as they descended. His breath felt short in some places, the air felt so thick and muggy. Yet again they found no Rock-Rat's or any sign of where they had been digging. Kal glanced down and pointed to some disturbance in the dust covering the rocks. There were more than a pair of rat like foot prints. Quite a few of the creatures were coming down here regularly for something. Again, that something started to worry him.

Slowly the tunnel began to turn back to the center of the mountain as they continued their travel downwards. There were several smaller branching tunnels, but a quick glance showed that they were completely undisturbed or did not go anywhere after a few meters.

Anton was about to ask whether or not they might want to consider going back when he heard a tiny noise amongst the relative silence. This was not their sounds of tiny rocks tumbling as they walked, these were big rocks falling onto the ground. The sound of digging.

Kal crouched low and moved even more slowly, Anton and Verona copying her movements. A few minutes more around they found the source. The rocky and bumpy surface turned completely flat and straight, forming a strange corridor in the otherwise roughly cut stone tunnel. As if it were here that somebody had decided to start building. At the end of this strange tunnel was a single small flickering torch, illuminating three Rock-Rat's trying to remove a pile of rough stone that blocked the path. Above the pile was a hole in the flat surface, extending well over the rock pile. Something had caused this strange tunnel to collapse.

One of the Rock-Rat's looked back towards them. The sheer look of stupefaction on its muzzled face was a thing to behold. It stammered out a few squeaks before Kal loosed an arrow. The arrow struck it through the eye, the creature falling backwards dead. The other two heard the body falling over, and were quickly dispatched by Kal and Verona before they could figure out what was happening.

As Kal recovered her arrows, Anton inspected the strangeness of what they had found. The rock floor and walls of the corridor was perfectly smooth to the touch, made out of the same material as the rest of the mountain. It did not make a lot of sense as to why it was here, and only here.

“How did we not find this before?” he asked aloud.

Verona moved beside him and looked at the flat rock surface.

“There weren't that many of us that headed into the mountain.” she said. “We only went as far as we needed to, to make sure that the Yellow Goblins were dead. This tunnel was quite a long one, if somebody did go this way they would have just turned back. We found those people with that had found that red and silver crystal box thing by travelling less distance, and we went back down to find them.”

“True.” Anton said, “But to think that something like this was right here all the time...”

“You did ask, once, who actually built the tunnels in the mountain. Maybe it was made by the same people that made this.” Verona offered.

“But, why not make the whole mountain like this, or just this bit?”

Verona had no answer. She sighed as she turned to look at the cave in of rocks. Kal was staring at them as well.

“What do you think they were trying to do?” Verona asked.

“They wanted something behind this pile of rocks.” Kal said, clambering onto the pile.

She climbed to the top and moved her head about to see through the cracks.

“If...If you move your head about here, you can see through the pile of rocks. It doesn't seem to be that big.”

Kal stepped down from the pile, waving them both over. Verona went first.

“Oh. I see. It looks like there's something on the other side.” she said. “That might be what they were after.”

“What thing?” Anton asked.

“I...I think it's a door.” Verona sounded very unsure of herself as she slid back. “One made out of stone. It's really big. I can't quite see it properly though.”

Anton took her position and looked through. It took a little moving about but he found the spot they were talking about. Past the pile of rocks, that seemed to be only a few meters thick at the top, was the continuation of the smooth corridor. At the end, another twenty to thirty meters down, did seem to be a stone door. There were no handles on it, at least from where he was looking. It was very hard to get a complete look at it.

As he moved back something on the ground, just in front of the door, caught his eye. It was obsucred by the rocks so it was difficult for him to make it out properly. Even if he used his eyesight enhancement magic he did not have the a clear line of sight.

“There's definitely a door there. But, there's something at the base of the door, seems to run along the bit of the floor that we can actually see.” he glanced at the top of the rock pile. “I can't really tell what it is...If we move these few I think we can get a better look.”

Slowly and delicately they removed the rocks at the top of the pile. For their size they were incredibly heavy. All three struggled with the weight of them, but soon they had enough room so they could see over. Room enough for all three to get their heads through.

They wriggled over the top so their eyes could get a proper look at the other side. Verona upon seeing, squeaked in distress. It was not a good sound, even Kal let out something similar. He could see both quite stressed as their breathing quickened. Kal started to shuffle away as Anton took her position.

There were marks on the other side on the straight correidor. Claw marks, dug easily an inch into the hard stone, sprawled chaotically across the floor, gleaming nearly white. They extended halfway up the sides of the wall as well. There were hundreds of them, all travelling in groups of six. Tracing each one made him feel ill.

What could make such a deep cut in solid stone? The claws of Demons? They're meant to be on the other side of the world, and I think that the gods can see underground...maybe not.

Anton turned to Kal and spoke in the softest voice he could manage.

“Kal, I don't think that Rock-Rat's can do something like that, can they.”

She refused to speak, only shaking her head.

“Goblins couldn't do that either.” Verona said. She looked down at her spear, resting at the base of the pile. “Maybe my spear could, but it would take a while. Or used by something very strong. What sort of monster has claws like that...”

It was not a pleasant thought.

His eyes followed the scratch marks to the door. Two slabs of stone made up the face of the door. The only markings on the door were the natural colour variation running through the stone. It did not look as smooth at the rest of the tunnel, clearly made in a hurry compared to everything else.

As he thought before, there were no handles on the door. Instead there was a thinner slab of stone acting as a bar to hold the door shut. Twenty dull metal slots kept the slab in place against the door. At the center of the bar, where the doors joined, were dozens more white scratches. So many so that nearly a third of the stone bar had been carved away.

Metal spikes had been rammed through the top and bottom of the door, and into the surrounding stone. The stone had buckled and cracked through the force. Despite the damage it looked like it would not budge. Whomever had done this they wanted to make sure that nobody got inside. Or out. And he was certain that it was not treasures inside. Everything screamed that only horror and death awaited whomever opened this door.

“Kal?”

“Yes?”

“At the join of the door, just above where that stone bar is, are there any more white scratches?”

She hesitated before nodding.

“All along it. They look like they came from inside. Like they were coming out as the door closed.”

“Okay. We're done here.” he said, beginning to slide back down as quietly as he could. They did not argue and slid down themselves.

“Let's block this back up. Just in case.”

They quickly put back the hunks of stone back into the cave-in pile. The rocks were not so heavy now. Now that he thought more about it, it was more than likely that this was not an ordinary cave-in. A different feeling filled the back of his head, telling him that they should leave as quickly as they can. The other thoughts were gone.

When they were done he waved for them to leave. He took a step, before pointing at the dead Rock-Rat's. Picking one up by the legs he carried it up the tunnel. Verona and Kal glanced at each-other before taking one themselves and following.

He said nothing until they made it back to the main cavern. As he dumped the body into the pile of dead Rock-Rat's, Verona grabbed him by the arm and looked very worried at him. She glanced back at Kal, who moved in closer.

“What was that?” she asked quietly.

“I really don't think we should go down there again. You saw those claw marks?”

They both nodded.

“I think that it's clear what's behind that door. Nothing good. And I don't think we should ever go back down there to disturb whatever slumbers below."

Verona and Kal hummed in agreement.

“There were no bones or bodies there.” Kal added. “So either it was a really long time ago or they took the bodies with them. If that's what happened those creatures could be long dead by now. You didn't mention anything leaving the mountain, apart from those Yellow Goblins?”

Anton and Verona shook their heads.

“I've never heard of anything that could do something like that. Cleanly cutting through solid stone...”

“So...” Verona closed her eyes and frowned, “The people that made the door also caused that cave-in? Why not just collapse the whole mountains worth of tunnels?”

“They didn't do a good job.” Kal glanced back to the tunnel. “They must have been in a real rush.”

“More reason's for us to leave this place and seal it up.” Anton said, looking to the marked tunnel. “Let's go.”

“Umm...right.” Verona mumbled, glancing at Kal as they headed towards the tunnel.

Anton was glad to be heading away from there. It seemed that nothing good in this world came from caves or mountains.

---[]---

The sun was beginning to set when Anton made it back to the mining camp, and the last tunnel entrance they could find. Kal had found another half dozen entrances they could not find on their own. He deactivated the night vision prayer, receiving a few mumbles of consternation from Verona. Kal seemed to accept the change without issue.

Now the mine camp looked like a small earthen fort. A small ring of raised earth surrounded the mines buildings. The mine itself was left alone, the muddy slopes would be difficult for anyone to climb up. It was also adorned with a wooden palisades under construction and spikes on the earthen rampart. Anton was about to question how they got so much wood when he saw groups of soldiers returning with wooden logs. Part of the forest reached close to the western base of the mountain.

“Last one.” Verona said happily, nodding towards the cavern entrance to the side of the mine. “Then we can get away from here.”

Anton smiled as warmly as he could. He had been acting a little odd, rash and impulsive to leave. He would be happy to leave Mount Aspire. It's name was just an insult now, from what he had found within.

“Thank the gods.” he mumbled.

The soldiers waved to him as he neared and moved towards the last entrance. Summoning the tethered line of lightning bombs, he sent them into the cave and collapsed the last tunnel. With the rumble of collapsing rock and stone, and a blast of air and dust, he felt relieved that the mountain was sealed.

“That was...an interesting day.” Kal said.

“Yes it was.” Anton forced a smile. “Let's tell Jeff the good news.”

They found Jeff next to the largest building of the camp, Avery at his side. He was leaning on the table while talking to a few of the soldiers. They were pointing towards the less complete sections of the wall.

“Anton.” he said with an voice full of joy, looking up and cutting off one of the soldiers. “I can't hear any more of that lightning magic going off. I can assume that means you've taken care of the Rock-Rat's.”

“We have,” Anton said as he approached, the other soldiers nodding respectfully before moving away. “I'm glad you got the message.”

“We were a little concerned that you were heading into the mountain with just the three of you.” Avery said calmly.

Verona shrugged. “We didn't have much time to get it done. If they figured out that they were under attack they could have fled. And then who knows how long we could be fighting that angry tribe.”

“But they are all dead?” Jeff asked.

“All dead.” Anton replied. “At least the ones that we found in the mountain. There could still be one or two roaming about somewhere.”

“Those won't be a problem.” Verona smiled, giving Anton's hand a squeeze.

“One of those creatures isn't a problem.” Jeff happily said, looking towards the mountain. “But several thousand of them would be. I've told the soldiers on look out to keep a better watch.”

“Don't be too hard on them, the Rock-Rat's blend in perfectly with the stone.” Anton said. “Maybe have them keep a very good look out into the grasslands. Their grey will be a severe disadvantage there.”

Jeff glanced at Avery.

“I'll get the next person up there to pass on the message. But, everything's good now. The north is secure, barring an attack from those Orcs and Clansmen you spoke of.”

Anton grimaced, Verona and Kal did not look confident either.

“What?” Jeff asked, the confidence draining from his face.

“We did find something in the caves though.” Anton spoke quietly.

“Another chest of gold, or weapons?” Avery asked.

Anton shook his head. “We need to have a council meeting right now.”

Jeff and Avery looked worriedly at each-other.

“For now, tell everyone that they are not to enter the mountain under any circumstances.” Anton said. “Not to chase something down or just because they are curious. Understood?”

They both agreed, though it was clear they wanted to know why.

“I'll get a cart ready for the return trip.” Avery said, walking away.

Jeff glanced around to make sure that nobody was listening in. When he was certain that there was nobody he leaned in close to Anton.

“What's happening in there?”

“I'm not entirely sure.” Anton replied. “But it's very disturbing.”

Jeff left it at that until they returned to Atros.

---[]---

Crowded would be a polite way of describing the council room in the Main Hall. Everyone had been called, though Anton was not going to divulge what he had seen there until they had all gathered. Once they were, he took his time and explained in detail what they had found at the lowest level of the caves in the mountain.

Nobody said a word as he spoke.

All stared at him in a mixture of fear and stun. None liked what his tale implied, something very dangerous could be living right underneath their feet.

“So, you didn't go any closer to that door?” Zac asked.

Anton shook his head.

“Whomever built that door wanted it to be shut for a very, very long time.” Anton forced a weak smile. “I'm not going to just open it to see what's on the other side to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Could it be those demons?” Sam asked. She was very worried that Jeff, or any of them, had been so close to that site.

“I...I don't know.” Anton replied truthfully, “But I don't think so. They're meant to be on the other side of the world. That whole place seemed really, really old. Like nobody had ever been there in a thousand winters. Maybe even longer than this city has been here.”

“You said the Rock-Rat's were digging at the rock pile.” Bertram seemed as tired as when Anton had returned from Maxill. “That sounds like a very odd thing to do. To try and get to it.”

“Especially since they had the whole mountain to themselves.” Kal added. None gave her an odd look, something she seemed grateful for.

“How did we not find it?” Jeff asked. “How long had they been digging for?”

“If they had been digging at roughly the same time the Kobolds attacked,” Kal answered, “Quite a long time. The Goblins might have been digging during their time as well. If they always keep someone working it would not take them that long. They were close when we found them. Perhaps you had found the tunell before but it was completely covered by loose rocks. It seems very odd that it would be so few rocks to keep something like that buried.”

“Do Rock-Rat's follow Nithroel?” Verona asked.

Kal shook her head.

"That's good then."

“Here are the facts, or at least my conjecture.” Anton began. “Something came up from below the mountain, something that could claw its way through solid stone, that something else sealed them in before leaving. We don't know whatever those creature are, or if they are still alive. I'm telling you all this so you know what's happening. Something as important, and disturbing, as this is not something to be kept a secret.”

A tiny shuffle from Kal caught a flicker of his attention. She said nothing.

“Are you saying that we should close the mine then?” Jonathan asked. He had not brought his children this time. For that Anton was a little glad, stories of something that could carve their way through solid stone was the things of nightmares.

It was something that Anton had not thought about before. There was a possibility of them digging so far down that they reach wherever those creatures came from. However, seeing how far they had actually dug down already, along with how much iron and coal they had managed to bring up, it would be some time before they reached the same depth as the corridor and door.

“Not yet.” Anton replied. “I'm not sure how deep we actually went but it was some way. It'll be many, many, winters before the miners dig anywhere near that far.”

Jonathan and Zac relaxed.

“That being said, I think it would be a good idea to tell the miners to look outwards for more sources of iron and coal rather than down.”

They both agreed.

“At least until we figure out what's going on in there.”

“You want to go back down there?” Bertram asked.

“Not if I can help it.” Anton answered. “I don't think I'm liking caves and the insides of mountains very much. Ever since I woke up here the most terrifying things have come from there.”

Verona smiled as sweetly as she could, giving his hand a squeeze.

“This is all disturbing, to say the least.” Bertram said, he glanced at Dennis, face riddled with worry. “Do we tell the people what we found?”

Anton glanced around at the worried faces. “Not yet. We can see what this knowledge has done for us, who knows what it'll do for the stability of Atros.”

Dennis nodded furiously. “I'll make sure that this stays quiet as I can. Any questions on the matter, we'll tell them that the threat has been dealt with. Nobodies going to head there without good reason anway.”

Murmurs of agreement and nodding heads filled the room.

“Since we are all gathered, is there anything else that needs to be discussed?” Bertram asked.

“I would.” Dennis began, “I would like to thank everyone for having trust in me. I will do my best with the position of Sheriff that I have been given.”

Anton swore that he saw Dana rolling her eyes.

“Have you found the building suitable?” Bertram asked.

Dennis nodded. “We have. It's more than sufficient for us. My deputies and I will keep the peace in Atros.”

“That's good to hear. Anything else?”

Nothing was said. Everyone just looked like they wanted to go.

“Alright, let's finish this meeting then.” Bertram said with a grimace. “And see if we can keep our food down tonight.”

The chairs groaned as they left the room and into the early night. A few villagers were starting to set up the central plaza for the dinner, but Anton did not feel that hungry.

“Anton?”

He turned and saw Verona looking at him worryingly.

“You still don't sound like you are doing alright. Is there something you want to talk about?” She came up close and rested her head against his chest. The warmth from her body travelled into his own.

“I'm fine.” he said, kissing her on the forehead. She was not believing him, her hand pinching tight on his waist.

“I...I don't know. Maybe remembering those forty odd women that were being raped by the Yellow Goblins...just made me a bit funny.”

Part of him had to say it aloud. Verona smiled as warmly as she could.

“I know. It wasn't a good day, was it?” she spoke awkwardly.

“No. But, it's over and I'm not going to have to go back there any time soon.”

He took a deep breath and looked at the beginnings of dinner.

“Actually-”

“You're not feeling that hungry?”

Anton nodded.

“Well, I managed to get some preserved food a little while ago and put it in our house.”

“Just a snack...I think that'll be a good idea for tonight.”

Verona smiled, looking around him.

“I'll go and tell the others that we won't be attending dinner tonight. While I do that, you've got someone waiting to talk to you.”

Kal was standing several meters away, patiently waiting in silence.

“Thanks.” he said, Verona giving him a quick kiss before running towards where he had seen the council members heading off to.

“Thanks for guiding us safely Kal.” he said, receiving a warm smile in return.

“It wasn't a problem.” she said. “I...During that trip I've given another thought to how I can help Atros.”

“Oh, how's that?”

“When I was looking at the Rock-Rat's, it reminded me of the Kobolds.” she looked at her hands. “And the poison they have in the spines on their back.”

“Right. We've kept those spines that we recovered from the battle. Their poison seemed like it could be useful for something.”

Kal nodded. “I was thinking that if we could get poison out of those and dip arrow heads in them...”

Anton brushed his hand through his beard. “That sounds very dangerous, for the enemy. But we don't want that stuff on us. I suppose we could use the heavy leather gloves that Zac has got the workers making. That should be enough to stop the poison getting through. I'm liking the idea. Poisoned arrow heads...A good idea, Kal.”

“You...” she hesitated, but took a confident step forward. “You could also use your magic to stop the poision from working when we're working on it, like what you did with our eyes so we could see in the dark.”

“I could do that. It would be a good chance to further try out my magic.” He smiled at Kal. “Alright. We'll give it a go tomorrow.”

“Thank you Anton.” she glanced around, focusing on the silvery head of Verona talking rapidly with Sam and Sybil.

Kal took another deep breath, scrunching her eyes shut, before turning back to him.

“Before, when Verona was attacking the Rock-Rat's, you said that you would tell me something later.”

“Right...” Anton looked around to see who else was close by, there was nobody. “Um...Tomorrow, I'll talk to you about it then.”

Kal bowed her head.

“Thank you. For trusting me.”

Verona quickly trotted back to them, looking very happy with herself.

“Hey Kal.” she said, taking one of his arms. “Just spoken to them and they've said it's fine. They're not feeling that good either, what with that description of all those scratches made into the stone and what could have made them.”

“I can understand that.” Anton said.

“I'm going to sleep as well.” Kal said. “I will see you both in the morning.”

“See ya.” Verona said happily. Kal smiled and made her way quickly through to the east of Atros.

“Come on, we need to go to sleep as well.”

Their night was far more slow and passion filled than normal. Even afterwards his sleep was short and troubled, his mind always being drawn back to the horrific scratches gouged into the stone, the white gleaming like tears through a soul.

------------

Hello.

Rock-Rat's didn't put up that much of a fight. That's kind of to be expected.

Also, sort of, answering who made the tunnels in Mount Aspire. Not the Goblins, they've just dug their way through the collapsed tunnels. I said early on that they weren't natural nor built by them, so someone's collapsed everything and it's slowly been excavated over the years, however many years that is.

Everyone a little scared about it. I think I took the right actions when finding something like that. The answer isn't to open it and find out. Better to just leave it alone when you're so weak as a force.

Also Dennis taking some initative in how to deal with telling the people what happened. Cna't tell the whole truth so they'll have to tell the cloest they can. It's much easier to believe that way.

That's really about it.

Hope you enjoyed reading!

Chapter 048 - Venom Tipped

Chapter 048:

Another yawn escaped Anton's mouth. He tried desperately to cover and suppress it, but he could not. That night's sleep had been short and fraught with jolts that woke him every few minutes. Memories and thoughts of everything that happened in the mountain still clung at the back of his mind. And the carved apart stone door only compounded his distress. He hoped that this would not continue for much longer. If this continued he might need to ask for the sleeping herb, Hamura, that Kal said she used.

Currently he was standing, alongside Verona, outside Kal's house. She was normally waiting outside when he exited his own home, and that was before most people were awake. Today, however, she was not home or waiting. A strange feeling of dread crept up his spine. He did not want to barge in on her if she was sleeping, but if someone had decided to deal with the issue of a beast-kin living in Atros...

He knocked on the door again. Only silence came back.

“Hello?” Verona hummed through a slim gap in the door. “You there, Kal?”

There was still no sign.

“She might just be in the central plaza.” Anton offered. “I agreed to her idea of using the Kobold poison on the arrows. She might have just decided to head there and wait for us.”

Verona looked up at him, scrunching up her face. “That stuff burned for days when it got on my hands.”

“Imagine what it'll do when it's on an arrow. And in you.”

He poked her hard in the shoulder. She let out a playful laugh as she slapped his hand away. Verona contemplated it for a while. “Yeah, that would hurt. I think I would just run away if I knew it was coming.”

Anton gave one final knock before giving up. He looked around the house's entrance for any signs of a scuffle but could see nothing.

“I'm sure she's fine. If she's not here, then there's no point in waiting about for her to turn up.”

She smiled and grabbed his hand tightly, leading him towards the central plaza, saying nothing as she nearly skipped over the stone and dirt road.

Entering the central plaza he saw very few villagers present. As ever there were very few people up and about this early in the day; a few soldiers and villagers carrying crates of food wandered about, but that was all. He looked to the north of the plaza, towards the barn that stored the array of healing herbs and the Kobold poison spines, and saw two figures talking just outside. One was small and a slightly hunched elderly woman, the other was a taller woman wearing a cloak with a bow and quiver on her back.

“There she is.” Anton said. “Though, I don't remember telling Sybil about it.”

He glanced down at Verona, who shrugged.

Only one way to find out.

As they approached Kal and Sybil turned towards them.

“Good morning, Anton.” Sybil said with a warm smile.

“Good morning to both of you.” Anton said.

“We thought that something terrible might have happened to you,” Verona said, a wild smile on her face. “Though, I'm thinking that you would just be able to beat them up before they could do anything.”

A slight flush overcame Kal's face. 'I'm not that strong.” she said quietly.

Verona punched her lightly in the shoulder. “But you're quick. Moreso than any of us.”

They both chuckled. Sybil gave him an odd look before it turned into a small smile. Again, it was heartening to see Kal able to laugh with other people. Sybil was the first to break the silence.

“I caught her skulking around the barn-”

“Skulking?” Kal whimpered.

“So, I wanted to know what she was doing. I didn't think she was up to anything bad...”

She gave Kal a sly look, who glanced at Anton for help.

“But she told me that you wanted to try something with the Kobold poison.” she gave him another odd look. “As if you aren't already known for doing strange, bizarre and probably quite dangerous things in this village.”

“I try not to.” Anton replied with a shrug. “But it does seem that it's just going to happen no matter what. You all looked shocked when I said that I wanted a Goblin to experiment on. By the way, how did we go on that?”

Sybil looked back at the main hall.

“Still working on it. I don't think Dana was particularly happy with that...request, from you.”

“I bet she's not.” Anton replied softly.

“But, she's going to try.” Sybil smirked. “She told me that the only reason she'll do it is so that you can figure out better ways to kill them.”

“I hope that's the only reason you want them, Anton.” Verona said as she looked up at him.

“That Is the only reason why I want one of them.” Anton answered. “The more you know about something the easier it is to fight. According to that book of yours, we didn't even know they could live on grass.”

Sybil opened her mouth but no words came out, only a tiny crackle. “True. Do try and talk with her privately before you go to Graterious.”

Anton nodded.

“So, are we going to start with another one of your scary things?” Verona said, pulling one of the doors open.

The inside was filled with almost a hundred small wooden crates. Hanging from the walls and beams overhead were more drying healing herbs. There were quite a lot of them, Atros would not be caught in a shortage any-time soon.

“Which ones have those Kobold spines?” Verona asked, moving forward and perusing through the crates.

Sybil directed them to the specially marked crates. They did not want someone to accidently touch the spines. Anton and Verona slid the top off the crate. Inside were dozens of the Kobold spines. It had been quite a while since these had been collected, these being harvested from the first Kobold attack almost a month ago. Yet there was still a green shine on the barbed teeth at the base of the spine. Given what Verona and Kal had said about the poison it would probably still burn.

“So...What now?” Kal asked, looking at her hands. “I don't really want to touch that poison.”

“Would Zac be awake yet?” Anton asked Sybil.

“He should be. If he is, he'll be at his workshop. Why?”

“Okay, I'll be right back with a few sets of those gloves.”

---[]---

Anton returned soon afterwards with three sets of the Razor-Pig hide gloves. The outside was rough and hard, but the inside was surprisingly soft and comfortable. All the gloves were the same size. They were a bit big for Anton and it would certainly be too big for Verona but might be close to the right size for Kal. Her fingers were slightly longer than a humans and the claws at the end made them even longer. Still, they would probably be good enough for all of them to handle the poison.

They awaited him at the front of the barn, chatting amongst themselves. Verona nodded towards him as he approached.

“These look pretty good.” Verona said, taking a pair for herself.

“Is there one for me?” Sybil asked.

Anton shook his head. “Um...no. I didn't want to try and make you handle something so dangerous.”

“But you're going to have those two help?” She asked, throwing up a brow.

“Well...” Anton looked back at Verona and Kal, “Sort of.”

“Just make sure you look after them all.” she said with a sigh, looking over at the two. “How are they?”

Verona waved her gloved hands at them, a frown formed on her face.

"These are a bit big for me." Verona mumbled unhappily as she inspected the gloves more closely. On her they looked comically large and ungainly. Her fingers did not reach the end of the gloves when Anton gave them a squeeze. She groaned as she took them off, looking very disappointed.

"They're good." she said, clearly annoyed. "But I don't think I could use my spear properly if I wear these."

"They need a bit of work before you can use them. That's a shame..." Anton said aloud, turning to Sybil who was looking through one of the crates full of healing herbs. "Sybil, do you know someone that could make these gloves a little smaller?"

"How much smaller?"

Verona laid her hand over the glove. It was clearly that quite a bit would need to be removed to make it wearable.

"Shouldn't be a problem. How are you doing Kal?"

Kal wore both gloves and flexed them back and forth. From the way they moved they seemed to be the right size.

"They're very good." she said with a smile. "I didn't think they would be."

"I'll go get these made smaller. Some of the other elders are good at this sort of thing." Sybil made her way to the door. "I'll see you all in a bit. Try not to get that stuff on your skin. I've never felt something burn like that."

I guess that everyone tried to help out with trying to remove the piles of Kobolds. A mixture of rotting blood and Kobold Venom, definitely not a fun experience.

"It looks like it might just be the two of you." Verona said "It's not that I don't trust your magic..."

Anton folded his arms and held his gaze on her. "But you don't want to take that chance?"

Verona smiled sheepishly as she scratched her cheek.

"Don't you trust me?" He teased further. Verona continued to look more embarrassed.

"Absolutely!" she defiantly said. "But, while you do that I want to continue practising my magic. That will be a better help to Atros, and myself, if I continue to try and master my power."

Anton nodded.

"Okay, we'll be right here anyway. You'll want some blood, right?"

Verona smiled warmly and lowered her spear. The glowing power overcame her body. The sight of her glowing eyes and body was still a little worrying, especially after she lost herself in the trance. Still, he knew that was not the case now. She cut and drew up a tiny amount of blood before raising her spear away from him.

"Thanks." she said. "I'm going to start."

She moved close to the entrance and sat down, facing them. The blood crystallised and she began to twist and form them into different shapes. Verona gave him a quick smile and nod before focusing all he attention on the twisting shard infront of her.

“So, Kal.” Anton turned to her. “Do you know how to break these things apart to get at the poison sack?”

Kal hesitantly reached in and picked up one of the Kobold spines. Her hands crunched down on the spine but it was bone, she could not break it. One of her fingers ran along a tiny depression near the teeth end of the spine. Glancing up at him, and receiving a cursory nod from Anton, she pulled out a dagger and rammed it in. With an audible click, the dagger broke the outer bone of the spine. Kal gave another glance at Anton before she cracked it sideways. The spine broke open with some effort, and the small green venom sac was exposed to the light.

“That wasn't too bad.” Anton said.

Kal chuckled. “I was worried that it would burst. I don't want this stuff to get on my eyes, I have the feeling that I might go blind.”

“Well, that's what I'm here for.”

Kal reached down and picked up another spine, handing it to Anton. “Um...If I break these, can you deal with the poison sacks...and whatever you need to do to those?”

Anton nodded and glanced around. “I don't have anywhere to put this.”

“I've got something.” Verona said.

She stood up and took off two of the small clay pots hanging from her hips.

“I don't need all of these, so you can use them instead.”

Verona handed them to Anton, giving her a quick kiss in thanks. She giggled as she retook her position and continued her magical practice.

“Oh, Verona?”

“Yes?”

“Can I please borrow your dagger? I don't want to have to squeeze this thing open.”

Verona sighed dramatically, standing up and handing him the dagger, before returning to her practice spot again. The dagger cut through the fleshy sac and released the viscous liquid within. He squeezed the liquid into the clay pots. It took some time, and a few near misses of it running up the gloves and onto his skin, but he had almost one filled very quickly. Kal continued breaking the spines apart in silence and handing him the venom sacks.

He remembered what he had said to her the other night. She had probably already figured out that he was not from this world, her insistence the other day had just added to little things she would have noticed.

“Umm, Verona?” Anton said, stopping his handling of the spines.

“Yes?” she turned to face him. The small crystal shard hovered in between her hands.

“The other day, just before we went into the mountains, when you were taking out those Rock-Rat's guarding that entrance, Kal...”

Verona's eyes flickered towards Kal.

“Well, I think she's guessed the truth about me.”

Verona's body tensed as she looked out the door. There were still very few people in the central plaza. She stood up and checked that there was nobody lurking nearby. When she was certain there was not, she came back inside and folded her arms. She kept her blood power on, her red eyes piercing through Kal's.

“So...”

“I think that, since quite a few others know, it would be good to tell her. I trust her.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I....Okay, I trust Kal-”

“If it's a problem with it, then you don't need to tell me.” Kal shook her hands to get him to stop.

Anton smiled. “It's not a problem. Suffice it to say, I think you know that I'm not from the world.”

Kal was silent but nodded.

“Some...Some of the things you say and do...I've never heard anyone acting like that. Especially towards someone like me.”

Verona sighed, forming the blood into liquid again and putting it into her clay pots, standing up and walking over to him.

“If you are going to tell her, we should at least sit down. It could take a while. Especially with all the questions that I'm sure she'll ask.” Verona got some of the small crates full of healing herbs and put them down in a circle. “I know I did. Besides, I like hearing about your world. I find it all so interesting.”

They took their seats, Kal looking equally nervous and excited, and Anton began to tell the story again.

---[]---

Anton gave the shortened version of his life and how he came to this world. Verona was silent, while Kal looked on in awe. It was clear on her stunned face that she had not expected his world to be so completely foreign and alien compared to their current one.

Anton gave a final clap of his hands.

“And that brings up basically to now.” Anton said. “So, you can see why people might not be ready to hear something like that. They'll probably all think that I'm crazy. They probably already do, but they haven't heard anything too crazy coming out of my mouth. At the very least they'll question everything that I do, not that they don't already. It'll just make everything a bit easier if they think I've still lost my memory.”

Kal straightened her back up. “I...I don't know what to say.”

Verona chuckled. “Neither did I. Nobody really has.”

“Well, thank you Anton.” Kal bowed her head. “I can't imagine that you would tell this story to just anyone. But, I will never repeat what you've told me to anyone.”

Anton smiled and nodded. Kal took a deep breath and slapped her legs. “I think we should keep going.”

Kal hopped up and moved back to the pile of Kobold spines. Verona smiled and stayed seated, bringing the blood back up and began to manipulate it again.

There was nothing said for some time, only Kal breaking the Kobold spines breaking the silence. Finally Kal stopped and placed both of her hands on the edge of the wooden crate. She looked like she was about to say something; she was breathing harder and more frequently as the tips of her fingers twitched. Finally she took a deep calming breath.

"Thank you for telling me your story, Anton. For trusting me with that...”

Her eyes began to water as she looked into the distance, her fingers gripping harder on the wooden crate.

“I. You don't know anything about me from Seocruia." She coughed and stared down. "It...It was the third day after I escaped my home city, or rather after my mother had thrown me from the walls, and I was almost dead. I had not eaten or drunk anything in all that time, and it was the height of summer. The small streams had run dry and all the fruit was gone. There was nothing. I could barely even think, my head was aching like it had been stabbed. No sweat came to my skin."

She stopped and looked at him. "Have you ever been so thirsty that you couldn't even take a piss? Where your mouth is nothing but sand?"

"No. I never have." Anton answered as flatly as he could.

Kal searched in his eyes for something but gave up, returning to looking at the broken spines. She picked one up and continued her work as she spoke.

"I didn't know at the time but I was heading north from the city. Not towards here or even towards Graterious. Just away from that place. I was wandering along the small animal tracks around the cities and plantations, looking desperately for something to eat and drink. I could find nothing. Just when I thought I would fall down and die on some tiny dirt track in the middle of nowhere, I stumbled upon a plantation."

She stopped and looked up at him.

"You know what a plantation is?"

"Basically a large farm, that grows one type of plant?"

Kal shrugged but also nodded. "That's basically it. Anyway, I came across a large apple plantation. Even though I could barely think straight I knew that it was a very dangerous place. That could save me. If they caught me I would end up back as a slave or they'd just kill me on the spot. But I had no choice, I was going to die if I didn't get something to eat and drink. Even if it was only a piece of fruit."

Kal smiled awkwardly.

"No beast-kin in Seocuria can travel without explicit instruction from their owner. Something told me to go to there, probably my stomach. I sneaked through the bushes surrounding the plantation and reached the edge of the apple trees. I can still remember the red fruit amongst the rustling leaves. There was a small wooden fence but that wasn't a problem for me. Thieves were never really a problem in Seocuria."

"Were they sold into slavery or something?"

Kal nodded.

"It meant they didn't have to worry about security as much. Bandits and thieves only attacked on the roads, but there were very few of them. Humans didn't want to risk being sold into slavery, even though they were willing to watch my kind...Anyway, I peered through, desperately hungry, and I saw the entire plantation was full of apples, ready for harvesting. Some had even fallen to the ground and did not look rotten. I looked around and I could not see anyone. It was a risk to head out there but I knew that if I didn't I would die. I crouched down low and ran to the nearest good apple."

She stopped and looked at him, a strange detached look of happiness.

"Nothing, nothing in my life tasted as good as that first bite. I ate the whole thing in just a few bites. Then I ate another and another. I ate my fill, I even felt ill from eating so much. I had a small cloth bag with me, so I took as many good ones as I could."

Her face darkened as she looked down at her hands.

"Then it happened. I was so distracted by having food for the first time in so long that I didn't see a ladder on the apple tree. It was on the other side. But I was so hungry that I didn't see it. I had just filled my bag when I saw him step down the ladder. A Beast-kin boy, a reed woven container on his back filled with apples. He got to the bottom and brushed off his hands. He picked up the ladder and was about to move it to my side of the tree when he stopped. He saw me."

Kal looked up and sighed.

"I still remember his face. He was a reptilian beast-kin, basically a mix of a turtle and a lizard. Far, far less human than me. I never learnt their names, I had only seen one before. And this one was a few winters younger than me. He was so young. And he just stood there, staring at me."

Her eyes started to become moist. She fought back the tears but couldn't wipe them away with her poison coated gloves.

"And then he ran, still with the container on his back, the apples flying out with every waddling frantic step. He screamed his masters name, over and over again. I...I don't even remember it now. But, I knew that if they looked for me they would find me.”

She picked up another spine and broke it with ease. There was anger in her movements, directed at herself. Anton furrowed his brows as he watched and listened in silence.

“Their kind is so much slower than mine. I ran after him. Even weakened as I was I caught up to him before he even made the next tree. He fell onto the ground, I remember the apples scattering over the grass. I don't know why I remember that. I begged him to be quiet and let me go, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept screaming his masters name over and over again.”

He could see tears starting to well in the corners of her eyes, he was not liking where this story was going. Verona had stopped using her power as well and was listening in silence.

“I don't know why I hit him, but I did. I grabbed the first thing to make him stop screaming. I though it was an apple, but it wasn't.”

Kal could barely even continue with her work.

“It was a rock, the size of my fist. I struck him in the side of his head. Bang. They have very strong bones, not that I knew that then. Blood poured from his face. I remember that look on his face. The fear. He thought I wanted to kill him. He started to take swipes at me, but his arms were too short and stubby. His claws had been clipped so he couldn't cut deep. They scratched at my arms but they couldn't do anything. His screams became even louder. More desperate. I didn’t know how big the plantation was, but I knew that someone would be coming very soon. I hit him again. And again. And again. And again.”

Her voice was nearly a whisper by the end.

“I barely even knew what I was doing, only that his screams had stopped. When I looked down I was sick.”

The tears began to flow.

“Most of the skin on his face was gone, the bloody bones of his face exposed to the air. One of his eyes was broken and the other would never work. I...I...I ruined him. And yet he still spoke. But not for his master. He wanted his mother. A soft voice, all that he could muster through his blood soaked mouth and broken teeth.”

Kal shook her head, wiping away the tears with her shoulders. Anton did not know if he should tell her to stop, but something told him to let her keep going. This was probably the first and only time she would tell this story. The only people she could tell.

“I couldn't leave him like that. He would just be killed by his master, and might be able to tell them that it was me, rather than some deranged thief or murderer. Which, even then, I knew would get a lot less attention than a loose half-breed. I stumbled off him and was sick again, even though I had almost nothing in my stomach. I got the biggest rock I could find, much larger than before and threw it down on his head. It cracked and his body went limp. I've never hated myself more than that moment.”

“After that, and I still don't know why, I dragged the body towards the bushes and covered it with as many leaves and branches as I could find. There was a trail of blood to his body, but I really couldn't think that far ahead. I took as many apples as I could and I ran away.”

She turned and looked straight at him, her slightly puffy and red eyes searching for something in his own. There was nothing she could do to hide the shaking of her hands and legs.

“I barely made it away and back to the trail when I heard a scream. A wail that pierced the air. I didn't need to go back to know what it was.”

The tears began to flow like never before. “It was his mother. She had heard him and now she found his battered corpse. She wailed and screamed, crying his name out over and over.”

In one quick motion of her hand she ripped of both of her gloves, not caring where they landed, and grabbed onto her chest above her heart and the crate to steady herself. The tears were flowing and her breath was so fast, she began to sway as she looked at him.

“Why?” she asked him desperately. “Why did I have to kill that young boy so I could live?! What did he do to deserve me?!”

Her legs began to buckle as her body slumped down. Anton, working on instinct, moved forward and caught her body before she hit her head on the crate. She kept hyperventilating as she tried desperately to calm herself down. A hand clutched at her chest, the other latched onto his arm, while her eyes wildly darted about. What surprised him most was how light she was, even after all that she had been eating and the prayer healing. Before she must have been just skin and bone.

Anton was sure that Verona might say something about him grabbing another woman, but her face was full of worry. Verona dashed forward as Anton lowered her so she could sit on the ground. He had to pull her up as she wanted to just lie down, but he did not want her to just curl up into a ball and cry.

He kept his hand on her shoulder, slowly moving it back and forward. Verona moved to the other side and did the same. Slowly it started to work, Kal's breathing slowed and she pried her hand from her chest and his other arm.

“I'm sorry.” Kal said between sniffles.

“Don't say that.” Anton said.

“But I-”

“Take a deep breath.” Verona ordered, Kal trying her best to follow. “We're your friends, so we're going to help you as best we can.”

Kal nodded furiously, holding her head down as she held back the tears.

“Let's get you a bit more of some fresh air and some light.” Anton said. “There's not much in here. I think the side of the door would be a good place.”

Verona nodded, sliding her shoulder underneath Kal's arm. Anton did the same. Together they helped, the still shaky, Kal to her feet and led her to the side of the door. Slowly and gently they lowered her so her back rested against the door and remained upright. Kal closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, the early morning sun lighting half of her face.

“Verona,” Anton began, “Could you please get some water? This isn't something that I can just use my magic on.”

Verona gave Kal a final quick pat before standing up. “Right. I'll be back soon.”

She darted off towards the main hall, leaving them alone. Kal brought her legs up and rested her head on her knees. Her fingers dug into the cloth fabric on her legs.

“Do...Do you hate me now?” she asked, not raising her head. “Because you know I killed a child younger than myself so I could live?”

Anton did not know how to answer. As the seconds dragged on in silence she slowly turned to look at him. Her eyes were red and also empty, part of her soul had just left her.

I can't just keep quiet. How does it affect me? Does it?

“Do I hate you now? No. I don't hate you.”

She kept looking at him without saying a word.

“I'm not going to pretend that I understand anything of what you've been through. True hunger, thirst and pain, I've never experienced any of it.”

Kal moved her head back to rest in on her knees. Anton moved his hand and gently placed it on her head, she flinched away, a slight recoil in her eyes as he began to slowly rub her head.

“So, I'm not going to tell you what you should or should not have done. If it was right or it was wrong. But...Kal...Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell your story.”

He did not know what he should do, other than just to be there for her. He continued to pat her head, slowly she began to cry. Not loudly or violently. Just a weak sob.

------------------

Hello Everyone.

Got Kal not waiting on other people as much, even if it's heading to one of the barns to start the day.

Anton finally told Kal his story. Imagine her surprise when Verona is silent and enjoying the story as well.

The next bit, with Kal retelling part of her past, I wasn't sure if I wanted just the story or to tell it from a very you Kal's perspective. Maybe on a re-write I'll change it. Horrific, but she had to do it to survive. One could argue it wasn't entirely necessary, but it's what happened in the heat of the moment.

That's going to be the last bit of horror from her past for some time.

So, that's that.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 049 - Determinant Decision

Chapter 049:

Anton stared at the small clay pot full of the shimmering green Kobold poison. It had taken a while for Kal before she could stand properly again. During that time Verona sat with her, making sure she was okay as she could be, while Anton worked on the remaining Kobold spines. Kal wanted to continue to help but he had commanded her to sit at the door. Only his words got her to rest. He was certain she would have tried to work otherwise, with shaking legs and hands wielding a blade. She followed his words and basked in the sun and fresh air. He had collected and drained all the poison that he could find. There was so much, he had to get two more pots for the poison.

Now they all stood at the northern training fields, having taken over a small section of the archery training fields for their tests. Avery was not entirely happy, but Anton promised to get some bowmakers in Graterious for them. Their old bows were beginning to break and fray from age and use, and they only had so many of the new weapons from Maxill. They still had no way of making their own reliably yet. He was looking in the long term where nearly every soldier would use a bow or crossbow. Avery acquiesced after being told that. He looked quite happy, quite a rare thing.

Kal had assured them that she was feeling a little better. She was quite adamant about it when Anton suggested that she could take some more time. Even getting the closest he had seen of her getting angry with him. Now, with Kal wearing the heavy leather gloves, they were planning how to use it on their arrows. Verona leaned around Anton's shoulder and peered into the clay pot as well.

“Can't we use it on our swords and spears as well?” she asked. "Not just arrows."

“We could.” Anton answered. “I don't see any problem with using it like that.”

“Other...Other than if someone manages to grab one of our weapons, and uses it against us...That would be pretty bad.” Verona said with an awkward smile.

“The poison could wear off the blades of the weapon as it was used.” Kal added. "With each cut a bit would be removed."

“Yeah, but the same could be said for an arrow.” Verona countered.

“But....An arrow can be recovered and used again. We could recoat it in poison for the next enemy, even if it's not one of ours.” Kal replied. "And it doesn't need as much to cover it."

Kal brought out an arrow and looked at the iron tip. Verona chuckled, smiling at Kal.

“True. I haven't ever been hit by an arrow. But, I'll guess it's not pleasant.”

Kal shook her head.

“No. I got hit in the back of my leg once. I can't describe the pain.” Kal rubbed the back of her left leg.

“Another hunter?” Anton asked.

Kal winced and nodded. “That, and I once got too close to a battlefield between two of Graterious's noble's armies. They thought I was looting the dead and they shot arrows at me to scare me off, but I got hit.”

“Both of them in the leg?”

Kal nodded.

“I bet that hurt.” Anton stared back into the clay pot. “Kal, can I have one of your arrows?”

Kal handed him one of the iron tipped arrows. He dunked the arrow head into the green liquid and pulled it back out. The liquid stuck to the iron and slowly dribbled off. Anton handed it back to Kal to test the arrow.

She held it delicately, to stop the droplets of Kobold poison from falling on her, and nocked the arrow. She waited until most of the poison had stopped falling. Drawing it back with all her strength, aiming up slightly to compensate for the distance, she loosed the arrow. As ever, it hit the red center of the target.

She smiled and moved to brush the hair off her face. Anton saw a tiny glint of something wet on the edge.

"Don't-" Anton started, but it was too late.

“Ow! Damn it!” Kal cried, dropping her bow and throwing off her gloves.

“What's wrong?” Verona asked. Kal wanted to paw at her face but she held herself back, her hands trembling.

“I rubbed my face with the poison on my glove.” She said, he could see a tiny green droplet near her eye. "I'm so stupid."

Shouldn't have got you to do this so soon...

“Hang on.” Anton held her shoulder and chanted a prayer to make her immune to the Kobold poison. The mana flew out of him and into Kal. Almost immediately she stopped twitching and jumping as her body relaxed.

“That...Thank you.” she said. Now she looked quite embarrassed. She had not yet recovered from this morning.

“We'll still want to get rid of that.” Verona mumbled. She took off her scarf, motioned for Kal to bend down, and removed the poison from her face.

“Thanks again.” Kal mumbled. “I didn't realise that drop got onto the gloves.”

“It seems that all my tests go terribly wrong the first time,” Anton shook his head. “At least this one didn't nearly blow up a wall, or someone.”

“I...” Kal trailed off, like she did not know what to say. Even Verona looked at her confusingly.

“The poison was still wet on the arrow and it dribbled onto your hand.” Verona said. “If I had that on a sword or my spear, and I spun around, I could hit the people fighting with me. Or myself.”

“Though.” Anton began. “From what I heard about the battle with the Kobolds, you could have charged out with those blood shards and just walked through them.”

Verona thought deeply then smiled. “I could have. There's a thought about my power. I also need to find out about why that disk of mine didn't work.”

“We'll have a talk about that later.” Anton said. “Going off my magic, I have a few thoughts about why that might have happened. Why it just flew off in the end.”

Verona's smile grew even wider, far more intense than usual. He was not sure why though.

“But, we should focus on one thing at a time.”

“Right.” Verona nodded and turned back to Kal.

She already had another arrow ready.

“Could we please try again, Kal?”

Kal dunked the next arrow head into the pot. When she brought it out she held it over pot and allowed the drops to fall back into the pot.

"If the poison is dried onto the head, will it still work?" Kal asked.

"It might take a bit longer to work." Anton said. "Since it'll take a few moments for the poison to dissolve into the blood. But the poison should still work."

"Rather than just having it go straight in through the liquid blood." Verona added.

"Correct." Anton gave her a pat. "I think...But I don't think it'll matter in combat. Kal, when you were hit by the arrow, did you rip it out right away or did you take a few moments?"

Kal frowned and twisted around to see the back of her legs. "I...I was stunned at first, the pain and shock that I felt at the time was so much that I didn't even think about it. I just wanted to run away. I snapped off the end off, but not right away."

Verona bumped her hands together.

"Then it doesn't matter if it takes a bit longer to get into the blood."

"It'll only be a few seconds at the very worst before they're writhing in pain."

"So, do I just blow on it to dry it?" Kal asked. "Or..."

"I suppose." Anton said with a shrug.

Kal raised the arrow and began to dry it. She looked quite awkward as they both watched her, Verona holding back a laugh. Quickly the poison dried onto the iron arrow head. Now it was just a thin green sheen cover, one that was no dribbling off. Kal looked rather proud of what she had done.

"Okay. I'll give this a go then."

Kal aimed her bow at the target and loosed her arrow. The arrow struck the outside of the target with a satisfying whump. Kal checked her gloves and showed that they were dry. A few crystals of the dried poison could have transferred, but it seemed a lot better than before.

"I suppose we could make some large racks and hang some of these up until they're dry." Anton began. "Though we don't know how long this stuff will keep. I think that's going to be difficult thing to test-"

A shout rang out from the northern gate. Most of the villagers present stopped and looked. A quick shout and their training resumed in earnest. Guards on top of the gate ordered it to be opened. A beleaguered horse and terrified rider emerged. He made straight for Anton, he was one of the riders he yelled at the other day. Avery saw the confusion and arrived at the same time as the rider.

"Sir, I have an urgent report to pass on."

Avery arrived at Anton's side and said nothing. The rider took this as an instruction to continue.

"The watch post has seen hundreds, no, thousands of lights descending from the mountains to the north."

"Coming here?" Verona asked, her hand gripping tightly on the spear.

The rider shook his head.

"No. They came down to the base of the mountain and headed west to the forest. By now most would have entered there."

"What colour where they?" Anton asked.

The rider coughed. "The scouts said that some were green and black, while others were brown and grey, almost silver. I...I don't know what that means."

"Orcs." Anton said quietly.

"And Deweth Clansmen." Kal added. "Lots of them."

"Fuck. At least they're not coming here." Avery joked, though Anton was sure that he did not fully mean it.

"Yeah." Verona scoffed at Avery.

Kal turned to him, a deep frown of concern on her face. "You said this might happen to Duchess Belinda. That an attack might be coming from the west to their city."

"And this is it." Anton felt ill. There was a critical decision to be make, and very little time in which to make it.

He turned to the nearest soldiers that he could see.

"Find everyone on the council and tell them that there is another emergency meeting. I don't care what they're doing, they need to be there now."

All saluted, perhaps a little shocked by his voice, and ran towards the village. Anton let out a sigh as he brushed his fingers through his hair. Today was not going to be one that he would forget any time soon.

---[]---

The council chamber was crowded once again. It did not take the members long to gather, though Anton's message had left them somewhat puzzled. As they entered they asked what the problem was; if the creatures from beneath the mountain had emerged, if Nithroel had broken their agreement and a horde of Kobolds was coming, or if the Green Goblins had decided to attack. But Anton told them that they would be told all at once. The rider stood to the side, his hands fidgeting nervously as he watched the members gather.

With the last people assembled the rider gave the report. Everyone's exhaustion disappeared as the rider gave his report and Anton gave his thoughts on the events, adding what he had said to Duchess Belinda about the potential attack. When he was done everyone looked very shaken. Bertram was the first to speak.

“Thank you.” Bertram said, nodding to the rider. “Make sure you get something to eat before you head back.”

“Thank you, I'll do just that.” The rider saluted and left the room, giving a nod to Jeff and Dana, which was returned. Anton was sure that he had conflicted feelings about returning to the mountain.

Bertram clapped his hands to gather their attention. “So...We don't know for certain if these are the Orcs and Deweth Clansmen you warned us about. But-”

“I think it's pretty clear that it's them.” Anton said. He did not know where his attitude was coming from. The others seemed a little surpised by this as well. Usually he just steered people in the right direction.

“Sorry.” Anton mumbled in apology.

Jeff turned to Kal, who was sitting next to Verona.

“Kal, do you know of any monsters or beasts that would do something like that?”

Kal stared at him for a moment, quickly looking down at her twiddling fingers. Everyone was waiting on her answer.

“Not that I know of.” she said, looking up at everyone. “Goblins would not move so obviously. And the other creatures around here, like the Rock-Rat's, wouldn't either. Only humans...I mean, there are Orcs there as well, but only creatures like that would move with light and fire so openly and brazenly.”

“I doubt that it's a bunch of traders heading to Maxill. Not that many. So, it's an attack on Qaiviel.” Verona mumbled. “So, the question is, what do we do about them?”

“Not if we should?” Jeff asked. He seemed to be mirroring quite a few concerned faces.

Verona shook her head. “I'm pretty sure that it's clear that we get involved.” she glanced at Raston. “And not just because of the bondsmen we freed from Maxill, but for the future of Atros. Of keeping every ally we can. It might sound a little harsh, but...”

She gave Anton's hand a squeeze. “We only have one friend that we can talk and trade with outside of Atros. One place. One place that we can actually get stuff to help us.”

I'm more impressed by you by the second. Thanks for saying that.

Strange...Nithroel did say that there were roughly three thousand people in our side of the agreement. So, where are rest? I doubt they could be stronger than us...Focus on the task at hand.

“Exactly.” Anton said. “We can't just leave them to their doom. There could be thousands, tens of thousands of Orcs and Clansmen making a beeline straight to Maxill. And from what I remember, the city won't last long. They barely had decent wooden walls, not even stone. Though, they were fixing it up when we left. Then they'll be dead and we'll have to head to Graterious to find help.”

“So...” Jeff looked rather awkward. “We should help out somehow. Are we...Are we going to muster all the soldiers we can?”

Anton shook his head, patting Verona on the head.

“If you are willing...” Verona nodded. “Then the two of us will head there to fight.”

“Just you two?” Kal asked.

Anton shrugged. “We can't bring the army. It'll leave Atros exposed. The smaller and quieter we are the better.”

“Right...” Kal trailed off and frowned, looking down at the table.

Anton coughed, to get the conversation moving again and looked at Dana, “We'll need to borrow some horses, so we get there before the army.”

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” she asked incredulously.

“No. But I do know how to steer one of the Ix creatures.”

Dana held back a scoff. “From the back of a cart, maybe. But riding a horse properly is a lot more difficult.”

“What happens if the Clansmen or Orcs find out you helped their enemies?” Jonathan asked, worry clearly plastered over his face. “If they find out where you come from, not that I am doubting you will win, but is it not possible that they will come for us?”

He was clearly very worried. “We were almost wiped out by some Goblins and Kobolds...I do not know if we can survive against an organised enemy like that.”

“We...” Anton glanced around the room, snapping his fingers. “We'll pretend to be mercenaries in the employ of Duchess Belinda. That way we won't lead anyone back to here.”

“And.” Verona continued. “We'll make sure that's the only thing said about us. That'll probably mean we'll have to talk to the Duchess soon after we arrive, just so she doesn't blab or anything.”

“I hope she go along with it.” Anton said. “But, thank you for the point, Jonathan.”

“Dana? Can you give us some training?” Verona asked.

Kal was mumbling something as she pinched hard on her forehead. She was not sharing what she was thinking about.

“I'm going to have to.” Dana said with a rare smile. “If I don't, you could just get thrown off and break your neck. Not something anyone wants.”

She looked towards the north. “How long do you have?”

“If they're on foot.” Anton began. “Which I think they are, I want to be gone before lunch.”

Dana sighed in exasperation. “I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can. I don't think you'll be able to fight, like we do from horseback, but you'll be able to get them going in the right direction.”

Sam chuckled. “Though, with you two, that's all you'll need.”

“Thank you.” Anton said. “Can I ask someone to prepare some food and water for us? We'll need all the practice we can get.”

“We'll get on it.” Sam said, giving Sybil a quick glance. “Anything in particular?”

Anton shrugged as he stood up from his chair. “So long as it's light and not going to sit in our stomach and slow our mind's.”

“Got it.”

Verona stood up as well, followed by Dana. Dennis, the new Sheriff, looked around worryingly. Anton caught his eye. He coughed and began speaking, stopping Anton from leaving the room.

“The people have been asking the deputies about what happened in the mountain.” he began. “Some of the soldiers saw and heard your lightning magic.”

“What did you tell them?” Anton asked, resting his hands on a chair.

Dennis smiled. “Exactly what was agreed upon. That you closed the mountain's entrances, and that you three dealt with a few Rock-Rat's before they became a problem. But...” He sighed. “There's no way that people are not going to see you two leaving Atros and not ask questions. We can't just say that you two are leaving for Maxill because you want to.”

Dennis glanced to Raston. Anton did not know their relationship, he hoped it was decent as he was dating her sister.

“News that Raston, and a few soldiers, will be heading to Maxill soon is already widely known. If you two leave, and Raston doesn't, it's going to raise some very awkward questions.”

“Tell them the truth.” Verona said, looking for reassurance from Anton. “That we're heading to Maxill to save them from a slaughter.”

Dennis nodded.

“It'll make the newer bondsmen feel a lot better that we're doing something about it.” Anton said.

“Though, not as much as them knowing that their old home, along with their friends and family still there, are under threat.” Raston said.

“There's very little we can do about that,” Anton said, “Unless they all want to come with us. Though they'd probably get in the way. I'm not trying to be rude...”

“I understand.” Raston lowered his head.

Anton moved over, patting him on the shoulder. “Don't worry. We'll save everyone that we can.”

A quick tug on his sleeve caught his attention. It was Kal, a determined look on her face.

“I've got something that I need to do.” Kal said. “Don't leave before I'm done.”

“Okay. I was going to ask, do you-”

Before he could say anything else Kal ran through the door and out of the building, her cloak trailing well behind her. Everybody remained still, slowly looking to him.

“Is she alright?” Jeff asked.

“She has been acting a little strange lately.” Sam added.

Anton did not want to even allude to what she had told him. That was something private and not to be shared. He shook his head.

“I don't know.” Anton replied. “But I'm sure she'll be fine. We need to keep moving though. I'll catch up with her before we go. Find out is she wants to come along. I don't particularly want to leave her alone, but it'll be up to her.”

Thinking about Kal did bring up a question in his mind. Did he want her to come along? To a place where she could be killed instantly if she so much as showed her face? He did not have a proper answer as he left the room.

---[]---

The sun was almost straight above them as Anton and Verona were doing their best to get a wrangle on their horses. They were practising on the far western side of Atros, outside of the secondary wall. It was very difficult at the beginning, but Dana and her riders had given them the easiest horses they had to learn on. They were not the strongest or the fastest horses. However they were much faster than walking or going via an Ix drawn cart. Despite being told they were docile it was still a bit difficult to get a good handle on them.

Kal had disappeared after the council meeting had ended and nobody had seen her since. It was very hard to miss her moving through the villagers, the only person wearing a full cloak. And having dark aqua hair. And long furred ears. Some time had passed and she had yet to emerge. He was starting to get a bit worried about her.

“Anton?” a voice called out to him, Dana's.

“Sorry.” Anton said, pulling back on the reins. “Got a little distracted there.”

“I thought you would be okay with a battle.” Dana asked.

She looked over at Verona. She was having some trouble at making the horse move in the right direction, as her occasional shout of annoyance demonstrated. Although she was getting better at controlling it. Seeing that they were looking at her, Verona brought the horse close to them.

“This guy's pretty hard to control.” She mumbled through a happy smile. “But, I'm getting there.”

Dana patted the muzzle of the horse. “He's a good one. Very nice to new people.”

“Do you think we're ready enough?” Anton asked.

Dana smiled bitterly. “Honestly, I would want you to have quite a bit more time to practice, but I don't think you have the time.”

Anton looked to the north. From where he stood he could not see the bottom of the mountain range, but he guessed that the army had already moved on. Another rider had come back and delivered another report, that the force had moved completely into the forest. They were moving quite fast. In order to catch them they would have to leave soon.

“But you'll be able to get it through that forest, so long as you don't ask them to go anywhere stupid.”

“I've been through there four times.” Anton answered. “Verona two, so we should have no problem in getting through the forest.”

“Damn right.” Verona said proudly.

“We shouldn't wait much longer.” Anton looked to the forest. “Let's go get our food, say our goodbye's and then get going.”

Verona nodded, dismounting from her horse. She had a little trouble mounting the horse, thanks to her size. She needed a little help up unless she wanted an undignified attempt. Anton dismounted as well. He turned to Dana while holding onto the reins.

“Could you hold onto these for a moment?” he asked.

Dana did not answer but took the reins for both horses. Verona stopped a few meters from the gate, her head tilted quizzically. Infront of her was Sybil, Sam, Jeff and a few of the other elderly villagers. Each had small cloth bags in their hands, along with some things that looked like water skins.

“I thought we were going to head back inside Atros for a proper send off.” Verona smiled back at him.

“We decided that time was starting to run out.” Sam said. “So we decided to come to you.”

Dana brought the horses closer and helped them load up the supplies.

“Thanks everyone.” Anton smiled. “I have no idea when we'll be back. If something happens out there...” Anton shrugged. “Continue as best you can.”

“It won't come to that.” Jeff chuckled confidently.

Anton was glad that he had such faith in him. He had dealt with many of the Yellow Goblins, but they were not that intelligent. Fighting thousands of humans and orcs, creatures that could think imaginatively and creatively, exploiting real weaknesses, would be very different.

“You're right.” he said, offering his hand. “It won't.”

Jeff shook it roughly.

“Wait!” a voice screamed from within Atros.

Everyone turned to the source. It was Kal, running like she was the wind. Her face was red from exertion and lightly covered in sweat. She wore all of her weapons and quite a few small cloth bags attached to her waist.

“Don't leave yet.” she said, moving past Jeff to Anton's side.

"I was going to try and track you down before we left." Anton said, Kal breathing deeply to cool down. The small beads of sweat coming down her tanned face looked strangely alluring.

“Are you coming with us?” Verona asked, glancing at Anton. “I thought that you might not want to come along, since we'll be heading to a place where people hate Beast-kin.”

Kal hesitated, scrunching her hands tight.

“I know. But...You.” she pointed at Anton, frowning deeply with a hint of anger and annoyance, something he expected that she would never do to him. “Said that you are going to be fighting, a lot of fighting, in a place where you've never been before. Your going to need a guide. Someone that can actually read the land and signs. Someone like me.”

“Have you been there before?” Anton asked, trying his best to not be offensive.

Kal shook her head. “No. But, I know how to travel and track things better than the both of you.”

You do...

Anton glanced at Verona, who looked as equally surprised. However, it quickly changed to amusement.

“I...I may be overstepping my position and my place here, but I want to come along with you. I can use a bow, I know how to track animals, I-”

“Okay. Your coming with us.” Anton said, Kal's eyes opening wide in surprise and relief. Even a brief smile graced her face. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

Kal quickly recovered from her stunned state. “No...No. I've never had the chance to ride one. They would make me stand out too much in the wilderness.”

“Huh.” Verona nodded, pursing her lips. She looked back at the rest of her horse. “Well? Get on.”

Kal seemed stunned again. Verona grumbled and jerked her head again to her horse.

“Yes...Thank you.” Kal bowed her head, and mounted Verona's horse with a running jump. Had she done that before?

Sam moved forward and closer to both of them, speaking in a soft enough voice that he could not hear. Jeff, Bertram and Sybil came up to him.

“Good luck.” Jeff said. “We would come with you if we could.”

“Thanks.” Anton said. “Maybe on the next adventure. We might want to bring some extra people with us to Graterious.”

Jeff chuckled and patted him again, helping Anton onto his mount. Bertram handed him another small bag. Inside were five Karak fruits.

“I definitely think you'll need these.” Bertram patted the side of the horse. “But...these are all we have left.”

“Are we out? Or is the tree dying?”

Bertram chuckled. “It's fine. But the fruit take a bit of time to grow, and there's a new batch coming through.”

“While I'm gone, is it possible for you to see about growing some more?”

“I've tried to grow the seeds.” Sybil shrugged. “But they don't just seem to be taking.”

“That's...That's very annoying. Can it be grown from a branch? From a bud?”

Sybil looked at him blankly. “No. We haven't tried that. We'll give it a go.”

Anton gave them another nod. A burst of laughter from Sam and Verona caught his attention. He had no idea what they could possibly be laughing about, but they seemed happy. Kal even looked like she was fighting back laughter. That was nice to see.

“By the way.” Jeff began. “Do you have that Red silver crystal thing? From what I've heard it would be very good to have with you when go through the forest.”

“Damn.” Anton grumbled. “Getting a bit ahead of myself. Does anyone know where it is?”

Jeff smiled, pulling the large crystal out of one of the bags he had handed over. Anton felt a wave of relief.

“I'll be sure to get you something in the Kingdom for your efforts.” Anton said. “Any ideas?”

Jeff looked towards Verona, Anton caught him looking at the silver barrette.

“Something like that?” Anton asked quietly, Sam letting out another laugh.

“How about a ring?” there was a slight flush to his face.

“I'll get you a good one.” Anton replied, Jeff gave him a quick nod.

“Are we going?” Verona asked. Anton nodded.

“Let's go then.” he gave the reins a whip and started the horses towards the forest.

“Good luck!” they shouted after them, waving madly.

They gave one final look and wave back before bringing the horses into a full run, towards the forest track to Maxill.

---[]---

Three days later they arrived at the lake in the center of the forest. Anton had never felt so tired or sore. Every part of his legs and butt ached from the bouncing on the back of the horse. It was made even worse by the rough terrain and the horses having trouble moving so quickly over the rocks and hollows of the dense forest. The path that they followed was terribly painful moving fast, last time they were moving at walking pace.

They had to push their horses hard to arrive at Maxill first. He did not use the prayer power to heal himself, just in case he ran into any of the Clansmen and Orcs on the way. So far they had found no sign of them, though they should have been travelling far to the south of their main army. Kal led the tracking but she did not seem so disappointed that she was not able to find them this time.

She said that all Beast-kin feared the Deweth Clansmen as much as the Seocurian slavers...What the hell do they do to Beast-kin? No wonder she's not disappointed to find them.

A whimper from behind him distracted him from his aching legs. Kal was sitting behind him, keeping a great effort to keep any part of her body from touching his. She had swapped horses from time to time, to give the other a little break from the extra weight. Anton was expecting Verona to object but she said nothing. He hoped that it was not some sort of test that he was failing at.

“Thank the gods that we got here first.” Verona said, admiring the crystal clear water of the lake. “We don't have time for a swim, do we?”

Most of her focus was on Kal. She was certainly determined to see her tail, or any part of her hidden Beast-kin body. She would be furious to know that he had seen, and held, her Beast-kin digitrade feet first.

“While I would love to do that, to properly wash the grime off, we don't.” Anton said. Verona did not look too disappointed. “But, we should make sure that nothing bad has been through here...like some Orcs or Clansmen.”

He turned back and caught Kal's eyes. She smiled and nodded, gracefully hopping of the horse. Kal started to prowl around the nearby edge of the lake while Anton and Verona allowed the horses to get some water to drink. They both started to gather more water for themselves when Kal grunted loudly, loud enough to catch their attention over the sound of horses drinking.

“We've got a problem.” she said, standing up and looking along the dirt and sandy edge. “There are many footprints along here.”

“They're not animal footprints?” Verona asked, receiving an odd look from Kal. “I'm not doubting you, but there are quite a few creatures living in this forest.”

Kal shook her head.

“No. These look like your two feet.” she glanced down at her own. “Unlike mine.”

“What do you mean?” Verona asked flatly.

“Oh.” Anton walked back to the horses. “When she got stabbed, in the foot by the wolf's teeth, I got a look at her feet.”

Verona scrunched up her face. “So you got to see her feet? Before me?” She punched him playfully in the arm, “I thought-”

“Shush!” Kal blurted out. She lurched towards them, covering Verona's mouth, getting a look of utter surprise. Kal removed her hand, Verona not objecting, and readied her bow.

“What's happening?” Anton whispered.

“There's a lot of creatures coming torwards us.” she answered. “I don't know what, but I can hear them rustling through the undergrowth. Very noisy. Not a real hunter.”

“But...” Verona looked back at her horse. “We've got the red crystal thing.”

“Then it's not goblin's then.” Anton said worryingly.

He offered his hand to Verona, who used her dagger to make a shallow cut. Her body glowed red as she drew up a small cup full of blood before removing her blade. The blood slowly formed into crystal sphere, hovering infront of her face.

“Charge!” A booming voice cried out from the forest, reverberating through the trees. The bushes rustled violently. Twenty burly human men and women emerged, smiling and laughing.

“Vikings?” Anton said aloud, getting an odd look from Verona and Kal.

They looked nothing like Anton had seen before. No human he had met in this world look like this. Each was clearly over two meters tall and seemingly just as wide. Both genders were incredibly muscular in form and there was little to distinguish between the two. Covering their bodies was a mixture of chain mail and furs, an odd but intimidating look. They did not wear horned helmets, like he half expected them to, instead just a normal iron helm. What was most striking was the large axe they wielded in both hands. The dull iron axe heads were larger than their own heads. Each were lightly bloodied and yet the edge still gleamed through the blood, they would easily carve through a person. Especially with the size and the strength of the person wielding it.

The intruders slowed down as their eyes tracked to Verona, and her glowing red body. It gave them pause. They glanced at one another but refused to advance, their previous bravdo and strength was gone.

A particularly large man came forward and pointed his axe at them. He had no issues with holding the imense axe with one hand outstretched. An intimidating act. If they didn't have magic on their side.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” he asked in a deep growling voice.

Slowly the other soldiers started to fan out, but they kept themselves within Anton's field of vision.

“We're travellers.” Anton answered, somewhat truthfully. "Just trying to pass through peacefully."

“No. You're not one of....What are you doing here?” he asked again. His face, riddled with scars and already growing red, gave off a vibe that he had a very short temper.

“Are those Deweth Clansmen?” Anton whispered to Kal.

She did not answer him, remaining completely still, until her gave her a tiny bump on the shoulder. Without turning to face him she nodded.

“Yes. But I don't know which clan they are from. They don't have any marks on them. I don't know why they're hiding them. There normally so proud about them. I've never seen them like this.”

Anton looked more closely. On their chests, on a large piece of leather, were many scouring marks. Whatever their clan allegiance was they had removed it. Probably for this attack.

Does it mean that they're not entirely confident about this attack of theirs working? So they don't have to suffer political fallout if it goes wrong? Guess that says something about them if it's true.

“And who are you?” Anton asked.

“We're travellers too.” the man answered with a wide smirk.

“Not Deweth Clansmen about to attack the Qaiviel Kingdom?” Anton chided.

Any faked warmth drained from their faces.

“How do you think you know that?” another clansmen asked.

“I presume that you don't mean to let us live regardless? Since you've just told us you are?”

The leader spat onto the ground, bringing his axe to his side.

“Did you hear that from her?”

For a moment he thought he was talking about Kal, but it was focused on Verona. She looked as stunned as they did.

“Me?” Verona asked, throwing up both brows.

The clansmen frowned deeply, bringing up his axe, reading to attack.

“Why is someone from the Silver Eagle Clan here? You're on the other side of the Clans territory and not involved here. Why are you here?”

Why...? Oh, right. The silver hair. Guess that explains why she's the only one...Not that it really matters to me.

“Guess that explains why you're the only one with silver hair.” Anton said quietly.

Verona hummed, beginning to split the blood crystal sphere into tiny fragments.

“Why are you helping them?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Verona replied. “And. I don't care. I'm not part of whatever clan you think I am. So, no. I didn't tell anyone anything. About your invasion.”

“That's a shame.”

Anton readied the magic in his mind, preparing to summon lightning and fire bombs.

“I suppose that a human, a beast-kin and a little Blood Berserker won't be much of a problem.” All the clansmen readied their weapons. “I've killed Blood Berserker's before, that little blood sphere is just a bluff. Just like the last two I killed."

The others chuckled. "She's still using a spear. Just one of you be ready to take a hit while the rest kill her.”

“You sure about that?” Verona asked smugly, lowering her spear to attack while the crystal blood sphere began to break apart.

The lead clansmen frowned as he took a step back. He was not stupid, but the others seemed to miss it. He waved the others forward while he moved behind the others.

Must have just been some really weak Blood Bersekers then. Jira didn't seem to concerned if Verona died. Guess that makes us both stupidly powerful then...We'll just have to wait for the next person to emerge with a glyph, or an actual mage, and see what happens there.

Anton bumped Kal's shoulder again. “Loose an arrow at them. We don't want them running off when I use my magic. Make them angry.”

Kal nodded, quickly drawing her bow and loosing an arrow at the closest Clansmen. It struck her in the throat, through a gap in the chain mail armour. All the clansmen were stunned as the woman slowly slumped to the ground as her bloody hands clutched ineffectually at the arrow jutting out from her throat.

I don't think that was my intention...But...

A snarl came from the lead clansmen.

“Kill them!”

Each clansmen roared as they charged, bringing their mighty axes backwards, ready for a devastating strike.

Verona just smiled and broke the blood sphere into ten shards, throwing them at the closest charging clansmen with a flick of her wrist. The closest four received the shards in the face. The shards crashed through their eyes and out through the back of their skulls, their lifeless bodies sliding limp along the grass.

Seeing their comrades falling so easily, the clansmen skidded to a halt in surprise. They raised their axes to act as a shield. Each looked confused as to whether they should continue the attack.

Do they not have shields? Or do they just rely on their strength to just overwhelm the enemy? Do they not have to deal with archers in their homelands?

Verona did not wait, withdrawing the shards from the dead clansmen and bringing them back. Kal readied another arrow, Anton saw a glint of green covering the iron head.

Oh? I guess that's what she wanted to do before we left. I like it. This should be fun.

“Kal, hit the leader.” he received a quick glance from her. “You know what I mean. Verona, you and I will take care of the rest.”

Verona nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She flexed her hands as she surveyed the dead clansmen.

“You doing alright?” Anton asked.

“Yeah. I'm-”

“Fucking love rats!” the lead clansmen yelled. “What are you waiting for! Why aren't they dead yet? She's a tough Berserker, just swarm her.”

“What about me?” Anton asked, summoning lightning and fire bombs.

The light emanating from his magic mesmerised the clansmen. Many began to try and slowly step back. Anton did not give them that chance, throwing the bombs straight at them. Kal loosed her arrow in the confusion. Clansmen screamed as the lightning tore apart their bodies and the fire burned those that were left, leaving the leader clansmen alive and alone. Kal's arrow stuck out of his right shoulder, though his eyes were fixed on his screaming companions.

It was over. Barely a few seconds of fighting.

We really are too powerful in this world...

“What...What are you?” the lead Clansmen asked, his hand clutching at the arrow.

Slowly his eyes were focusing more on the arrow than on them. He pulled the arrow free and glanced at the iron head.

“Ah!” he yelled out as his arm and fingers began to spasm, quickly falling to the ground on his back.

“Do we kill him?” Verona asked, moving forward and stabbing the dead bodies with the crystal shards. “We can't take him with us.”

“Let's just talk to him for now.” Anton moved close to the man while standing out of range of any potential attack. Kal followed closely with her bow still drawn and aimed at his head.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

“What the fuck was on that?” he asked through short and laboured breaths. Already great beads of sweat were forming on his face as the shaking began to spread through his body.

“Kobold poison.” the clansmen's eyes widened in shock. “I didn't know what it would do if it got inside somebody. Although, a Kobold once got hit in the face and he just died instantly, so...”

He barred his teeth as he tried to stand, Verona hit him in the leg with a blunted crystal shard, sending him back down. Anton took one of the clay pots off of Verona's hip, receiving an odd and silent glance.

“I have the antidote here, just in case one of us got got hit.” He tossed it up in the air, deliberately making it seem like he would drop it. “So, you're going to answer a few questions before I give you any of this.”

“Fine.” he spat out, clutching his right shoulder with all his strength. “Whatever you want.”

Anton knelt down, placing the pot next to his feet. He missed Verona and Kal looking at one another with a look of deep concern on their faces. He focused on the man infront.

“How many are there of you in this attack on Qaiviel?”

“Ah, there's thirty thousand Clansmen and same again of Orcs from the Wrath of Doom.”

Good to know that Lazgar wasn't lying about the Orcs and Clansmen teaming up. Shame that we might be killing his people.

“Where are they headed?”

“A border town called Maxill, they're going to ransack the city and attack deeper into the Thieves Kingdom.”

“Is this an attack in support of another on the border forts at where the Qaiviel Kingdom and the Deweth Clansmen territory meet?”

A deep frown formed on his face. “How do you think you know these things?”

“Just a bit of conjecture.” Anton replied with a shrug, the clansmen clearly not understanding. “But, you'll answer if you want the antidote.”

“I...I think it is.” he answered. “It's only what I've heard from others. I wasn't a part of that.”

“Okay.” Anton looked back at Verona and Kal. “Do you have anything that might be useful to ask?”

“Why are you here?” Verona asked. “Is it for water, or are you guys some sort of rear guard?”

The clansmen's shaking had extended to most of his body now. He was in a very bad way, Anton hoped that he would be willing to answer anything for the chance at life.

“We're chasing some hunters that are prowling the forest and picking us off.

“Last one, are there any more of you between here and Maxill? Or is the army north of here?”

He started to laugh as the spasms overtook his face.

"You...You don't have an antidote, do you?” he barked angrily.

Anton shrugged. “Sort of, but not in here.”

He showed the empty contents of the pot, the clansmen half chuckling and grunting.

“If you're going to try and save that stupid red haired bitch, you're too late....Our army is already besieging it by now. Thousands of Orc and Clansmen against a pathetic few.” He smiled widely. “You three aren't enough to save her from us.”

With what was left of his strength he raised himself up on his elbows. “I hope...”

His eyes rolled backwards as his mouth began to froth. A second later his body fell down limp. Verona poked him with the spear, there was no sign of movement.

“I suppose I'll just make sure then.” she mumbled, thrusting her spear through his throat. There was no movement.

“I can't believe that it worked so fast.” Kal pulled out her arrow, cleaning off the blood, and returned it to her quiver. "There's no way he could get help in a battle. Just one arrow...and you're dead..."

“It really is really dangerous if it gets into ya'.” Verona chuckled as she shook her head. “I wish I could use that in my blood power. Though, if I mix anything with it, I can't control it. Perhaps when I have greater control over my magic.”

“Did we end up getting some water before this?” Anton asked.

They looked over to where they had left the horses. During the fighting they had left. The lightning and fire had spooked the beasts. Now they trotted anxiously near the very edge of the grassland around the lake.

“Come on.” Verona tried to wave them over to no effect. “It's fine now.”

The horses were extremely spooked by the glow coming off of Verona. When she turned off her power, after placing the blood into one of her blood vials, they were quickly rounded up.

“When did you get that poison?” he asked Kal, waiting for Verona to get both horses under control.

“I thought that I was meant to come along with you both from the beginning.” Kal said. “So, I took the venom and dried it onto the arrow heads. Getting everything ready took far longer than I thought. That's why I took so long and I yelled out for you to stop.”

"I was about to ask you at the end. But then you ran off."

"You could have said that I was coming with you from the start."

Anton scratched his head awkwardly. "I...I didn't know if you wanted to come with us to another Kingdom like this. A Human Kingdom to fight a war."

Kal frowned angrily, raising her fist like she was going to hit him. Instead she poked him hard in the chest.

"I told you...I told you that I would follow you to the depths of hell. And I meant it. So...Don't try and keep me out of things."

Anton pursed his lips. He reached out and patted Kal's head.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask straight away. It won't happen again."

Kal smiled as she looked over at Verona, who had caught both and was now coming towards them.

"Good. And thank you for saying that."

“By the way Kal, do you have the Kobold poison with you?”

She slapped the bottom of her quiver. “I've got it in here. I've bound it really tight so it won't leak out. There's a thick layer of cloth so it doesn't get damaged by the arrows."

“I think we'll be needing that again soon.”

“I'm sorry that I didn't tell you.” Kal bowed her head slightly.

Anton smiled and patted her on the head.

“It's fine. Though, I'm glad I could trust you with that.” he said, “Otherwise we wouldn't have gotten the information out of the clansmen.”

“Trust huh...” Kal frowned as she looked down, something was trying to force its way out. Whatever it was she decided to keep it to herself, again. She opened her mouth just as Verona yelled out.

“Right! Got 'em!” Verona said proudly. “That was a bit of fun, wasn't it?”

“Are you alright?” Anton asked. “That was quite a few people that you fought.”

Verona looked around at the dead bodies. “You killed quite a few yourself.”

She chuckled and waved her hands. “But...I feel fine. I don't have the shivers, so long as I keep myself in control.” She glanced towards the west. “If what they said was right, we don't have time to waste.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” Kal asked. “We could gather some supplies from them? We find something valuable?”

“Only a few minutes.” Anton replied. “But we need to keep moving.”

“Right.”

They quickly searched through the dead and torn bodies for anything of value. All they found were a few pieces of food and hidden weapons but little else. Kal's point about them scoring off their markings extended even more deeply than just the mark on the chest. Other markings, on their weapons and other parts of their clothing had been completely removed of any identifying marks. Though, it was still clear that they were from the Deweth Clans. Though not which clan.

“I've got nothing.” Verona said disappointed.

“Me neither.” Anton added.

They looked to Kal, still rifling through a corpse.

“Anything?” he asked.

Kal stood up and shook her head. "Five silver coins. That's all."

“That's a shame. I thought we might have been able to get something out of them. Alright, we need to get moving. We'll leave the wolves to deal with this.” Anton looked towards the west. “If he was telling the truth then we need to hurry.”

They left in a hurry, working the horses as hard as they could. He hoped that the city could hold until they arrived. And that they could actually do some good.

--------------

Hello everyone!

Got the Kobold poison arrows made, and their first use. Very dangerous and will be seen again.

So, the Clansmen and Orcs are the big attack for this arc, not that much of a surprise, but still. The sheer scale of the attack is quite large, so it'll take more than just Anton and Verona's magic to win.

A bit of info on the Deweth Clansmen, such as they are big norse warriors. Quite aggressive and very strong. These ones at least.

Next chapter I've tried something a little different. This is from the position of a Clansmen leading this attack. I wanted to try something different, and I hope it goes well.

That's it.

Thanks for reading. And thanks for any and all donations.

Chapter 050 - Warcamp

Chapter 050:

Ivano stared lifelessly at the map splayed out infront of him, only an occasional grunt and cough by the large Deweth Clansmen that surrounded him to break the silence. It was a map of the Qaiviel Kingdom, their combined Orc and Clansmen forces represented by small wooden pieces spread out through the forest. What drove him to such stupor, and brought down the mood of those around him, was how far they had gone. Or rather, not.

The invasion of the Qaiviel Kingdom had been going so well. They had achieved a complete surprise. The wretched Knights of the Plains had not known they were coming. No army had tried to stop them as they descended the mountains in the dead, worthless and empty husk of the Kar Kingdom. At least they had thought so at the beginning. Their first target in Qaiviel had failed to be taken in two days of siege. A small city on the edge of the forest, by all accounts and reports should have been barely a threat, had turned into a small fortress. An advance force had been wiped out and the next wave was being ground down against the enemy. After such a reversal of expectation, the combined Clansmen and Orc attack had come to a grinding halt while they took the bizare change into account. Now they were camped in the forest a days march away.

He leaned forward on his flimsy wooden chair, running his hand over to the small dot where most of their forces were concentrated.

“This city...” he began, his deep growling voice silencing any murmurs. “Maxill, I believe they call it...”

He looked up at his fellow Clansmen. They did not wear their usual mix of chain mail and furs. These lowlands were far too hot for that. Instead, they wore their thick cloth undergarments. Ivano briefly wondered if they realised how naked they were. None were as strong or as mighty as him, but he was not like his fellows back in their cold mountains. He knew that he needed more than just strength and force, he needed brains, intelligence and wit. And these were the best the clans had to offer.

“Why haven't we taken it?” he asked aloud.

The wind slowly picked up as the flap of the tent began to buffet about. One of the Clansmen moved to hold it shut.

“Thank you.” Ivano said, eliciting a look of surprise from their gathered faces. Most Clansmen would not have even acknowledged what he had done. Others would have berated him, physically or verbally, for allowing it in the first place. But Ivano had travelled beyond their snowy and frozen lands, and not for war. The world beyond was very different...Perhaps that was why they always lost?

The clansmen too was stunned but kept his composure as best he could.

“I'm still not hearing any answers.” he growled. The reason why he had gathered them was not to stand in awe of him, like so many of the other Deweth Chiefs wanted of their followers. He wanted them to answer him and not cower in fear of speaking their thoughts.

“There have been many reports of our soldiers dying in the night.” one of his assembled clansmen began to explain. “Qaiviel huntsmen and archers have been roaming the forest, setting up traps and ambushes for our forces. Mainly to the south of our armies.”

“Hmm...” Ivano looked back at the map.

The forest was not particularly large but it was very thick. Dense trees, sometimes barely a human's width between them, and giant boulders and deep ravines had hampered their way. They were rotating forces to push through and find a path, sending those back when they became too weak to rest and regain their strength. All the while, a few lone hunters would pick off at them before disappearing into the darkness of the forest. Only a few arrows and losses but it was working. Morale was low and only falling lower. It still begged the question of how they knew to have those forces roaming through the forest and attack them at first sight. Had someone told them of this attack? That seemed to be the most sensible answer. There was no other reason why there would be Qaiviel soldiers in the forest, ready to attack them without warning.

He glanced at each of the men and women gathered. Nothing was on their faces to hint at treachery, and surely a traitor would have trained themselves to act calm in this situation.

“How many have we lost?” he asked, running his rough and calloused hands through his hair.

A female clansmen, far more slender than most, spoke first. “As of nightfall, eight hundred and thirty.”

“What?” Ivano roared. All present seemed to shrink from his shout. “That's....We only have thirty thousand clansmen....Are you saying we've lost nearly a thousand out of sixty before we've even begun our campaign?”

“Yes.” she replied, she did not shy away. “We have not been able to catch the Qaiviel forces that are harassing our forces and they continue to harass us even now. Someone might have died while we've been talking. They know the forest far better than we do.”

Ivano raised his hand to yell at them again, only stopping at the last moment.

It's not their fault. This is why we are doing so badly, we just rage at the first person that gives us bad news. Too much anger at our own people. And not taking time to find out why it's going wrong.

However, a lifetime of his Clansmen upbringing was very hard to shift in a few winters. Closing his eyes and taking several deep and long breaths calmed the rage within him. He took his seat and looked back at the map.

“Do we still have our siege equipment? They haven't destroyed that, have they?”

She nodded again, though she stopped and frowned halfway through. “The Orcs seem to have taken control of that. We've got most of it back, but...”

His rage began to return.

“What to do you mean, taken control?”

“I am not entirely sure.” she began. “But, the Orcs say that they do not fear the Qaiviel soldiers and knights, and they should lead the attack on the kingdom. We should be in support.”

“Lead the attack?” he scoffed dramatically. “If they're smart, they should always fear the enemy. They've beaten us back every time. If the Orcs any kind of smart they would be wary and afraid of their enemy...Those wretched Orcs been hiding in the center of the war camp so they don't get attacked. Though, now they're on the south and taking most of the brunt from the hunters...Have they taken anything else from us?”

The clansmen shook their heads.

“Do a count on the food stocks...I get the feeling that they may have tried to take control of those too.”

They gave a quick nod and left the tent, leaving Ivano alone. Alone to stare at the map. He stood up and began to trace the predicted path of their invasion with his hand.

“This should have been so easy.” he said aloud, nobody was there to hear. “Head through the forest then obliterate the defences from the rear, and take out the Border Forts. And yet we stumble before the first point...That Duchess was meant to be weak...and now all this?”

He shook his head. “Something's happened....but what?”

He doubted that anyone within the war camp would know. The most recent piece of information about the eastern side of the Qaiviel Kingdom was the map that lay infront of him, and that had arrived just at the beginning of spring.

“And why now?” he mumbled again. "Not ten winters ago."

“Chief Ivano!” the slightly smaller female clansmen barged into the tent again.

Ivano sighed. He guessed what she was about to say.

“Let me guess...”

She paused. “They have tried to take nearly a tenth of our food supplies for themselves. There's been a fight, and some Clansmen and Orcs have been killed in the scuffle.”

A fake laugh left his lips. “They have more than we did to begin with...Even though we did give half of it to them in support for their stupid little inbred war.”

He looked up at the woman. “What is your name again? Forgive me. This whole thing has been very stressful.”

Names were never a good point for him. He always had trouble with remembering them and this was no different.

“Brenna, Chief Ivano.”

“Brenna...I'm not really a Chief, only that I am in charge of this campaign.”

She smiled as warmly as she could, she was not going to admit that it was the truth. Ivano had been awarded the position of an Honorary Chieftain position after beating down all opposition.

But does that make me the best person for this? To command an army of two different races? Because I can hit harder and faster than the others? The Kingdoms and Empires don't work like this. And their armies beat ours in the end...

“Chief?” Brenna asked lightly.

“Ah, yes. Brenna, come with me. We're going to have a talk with the Orcs and find out what they're up to.”

“Yes, Chief.”

He did not bother to correct her as they left the tent and headed to the Orc encampment.

Walking through the Clansmen encampment gave Ivano a real feel for his followers. Each tent was perfectly aligned with the next, giving it an orderly and regimented appearance. Normally this would not be the case of a Deweth Clansmen war host; the tents and camp on most raids would sprawl all over the land, but under his leadership it was kept under control. Mimicking the lowlanders way. Quite a few heads had to be bashed in, and three upstarts had to be put down in order for his words to be followed. But they were followed.

Every clansmen that he passed was doing something productive; sharpening weapons, repairing armour and equipment, preparing food and ensuring that their libido was not going to be an issue in the fights ahead. He could hear the moans and groans of slave men and women tending to their needs. Out the corner of his eye he caught Brenna staring into one of the more open tents.

“Are you interested?” he asked.

She tore her eyes away.

“Yes.” her reply was a refreshing surprise Ivano.

“Well, afterwards you can go and enjoy yourself.”

There was a slight smirk on her face. “I've never done it with one of these slaves before.”

Ivano shrugged. “There's nothing different about them. Other than they don't really have a choice. At least it keeps the soldiers focused.”

“Why not let them onto the thieves? Surely they can fuck the same as anyone else.”

Thieves, in this context, was everyone not from one of the clans. Their elders and stories always told them, over and over again, that they once ruled all that was known as the Shattered Kingdoms. Somehow they had lost it to these thieves. Vile magic, demons and twisted forces of nature were always to blame. To try and retake the land from them was the highest goal of anyone from the clans. Always to take back their lands. Always to fight. To kill....

But there are so many of them, and so few of us. We are so chaotic and they so ordered.

Ivano shook his head and bought himself back to the present.

“I do not approve of raping the innocent...or the guilty.”

“But they are not worthy of the lands they stole.”

Ivano stopped, grabbing her arm hard. It was quite strong and muscular underneath her clothing. She refused to budge and looked him in the eyes.

“How many raids have you been on?” he asked, not letting go.

“Three.” she answered proudly. “Two into Graterious and one into Bebbezar.”

“And why did you run each time?”

A flush of anger and embarrassment overcame her face, yet she did not answer.

“Well?” he asked again.

“There were too many of them.” she said weakly. " Their armies rallied and pushed us back. We did not run away. We were forced back, after killing many times our numbers.”

“And these soldiers that pushed you back, were they just the shining and disciplined armies you first fought? Or were they bulked up by more ragged men and women, using anything they could find as a weapon, and yet each fought with the ferocity of a wolf protecting its cubs?”

She frowned deeply before looking at the ground. “Yes.”

He released his hand, slowly she began to rub where he held.

“How many raids do you think I've been on?” she looked surprised at him. “Go on, guess.”

“Nine or ten?” she said anxiously.

Ivano shook his head. “Thirty seven.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Older than most here.”

He surveyed the clansmen at their tents. Some were barely into their second growth, quite a few could not even grow beards. That was happening more frequently as the winters dragged on. And ground them down.

“What drove you back were not just the true soldiers.” he began. “Though they did weaken you considerably.”

He grabbed her by the shoulder, though not as roughly as before.

“When we come into these lands, and kill and rape everyone because they're theives, do you honestly think they'll just give up? When their wives, husbands, daughters and sons are raped and butchered as they cower in the shadows? When the men are slaughtered and burned, while the women beg for their lives? Then enslaved to work and die in our cold mountains...Do you think they'll run? Or will they fight because they have nothing to lose?”

He shook his head again, looking at the joyful actions of the other clansmen. They knew so little of the horrors that they would unleash and receive in turn.

“We should be coming here as conquerors, not rapists and murders.”

“We-”

“That's what they see us as.” he let go and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his upper arm. Scars and wounds littered his arm, but one deep scar caught her attention. On it was a brand, a black cross seared deeply into his skin. Never healing properly. “I got this from Bebbezar, when a merchant lord figured out I was from the Clans. They captured us, branded us, and let only me go with this. They killed everyone infront of me, after making sure that I knew their names.”

A deep frown formed on her face.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugged again. “Somebody needs to know. Every winter we get smaller and weaker while these Kingdoms and Empires continue to grow. We are destroying ourselves...Someone needs to know, before the Clans are nothing more than dust.”

He expected her to refute him, to yell back at him like many that he shared his convictions with, but she kept silent. Had he gotten his message across? Only time would tell.

“Enough of this.” He began. “There will be time enough later. But now, we have a campaign and some Orcs to deal with.”

---[]---

Compared to the Clansmen encampment, the Orcs was a sprawling and jumbled mess; many of the tents were not assembled correctly, waste of all kinds was just strewn over the ground, and the Orcs, their supposed allies, seemed more interested in fighting each other than doing any sort of work. It was more a drunken party than a force ready for war. The clansmen at the edge of both camps were on guard and kept their full attention at them, just like they were an enemy force. No Orc seemed to be on watch.

“These are nothing like the old Black Fist clan.” He mumbled aloud, marvelling at the poor state of their ally. "If they were..."

“My father once told me that he fought a Black Fist Orc.” Brenna said. “That he was a honourable, brave and worthy opponent. In the end they both walked away, apparently even became friends later.”

She looked over the yelling and writhing masses of green. Many wore their armour still, a black layered carapace that covered only some of their body. It exposed a surprising amount of their green skin, many scars lay underneath. Ivano did not understand their choice of armour. Unless it was trying to show off how tough and brave they were. Not that it would stop a crossbow bolt or even a knife into their soft spots. He had seen many go down that way. That did not explain why they were hiding behind the Deweth Clansmen.

“Nothing like this.”

As she finished, an Orc at the edge of the camp fell to the ground dead. An axe protruded from his skull. A mighty cheer rang through a small huddle of Orcs, cheering that their comrade was dead. Several started to exchange small purses of gold. The clansmen guards shook their heads as they continued to watch in silence.

“More of a mob than the army we were promised.” Ivano quietly said as he approached.

The Orcs, still jeering and laughing at their dead comrade, barely noticed them approach. Only the Orc smeared with blood, the one that had done the deed, acknowledged him. He didn't wear any of the normal armour, only blood stained pants. To defeat a fully armoured Orc in his state was impressive.

“Ah!” the Orcs smiled with his toothy under-bite jaw. “Our glorious comrades!”

Ivano could feel the sarcasm drip off his words. He could also feel the hungry stares directed at Brenna. She kept her hands on her hips where he could see the outline of a small weapon. Orcs were not exactly gentle with human women. Or took no for an answer. Something about the challenge...

“I need to speak with Zig. Do you know where I can find him?”

“Ah, Our idiot commander, huh. He's over in his command tent.” he let out another scoff as he started to wipe the blood off his green muscular frame. “He's taken quite a liking to you humans way of doing things. Keeps moving it too, not really sure why. Come on, I'll show you the way.”

“What about your...” Brenna looked at the dead Orc.

He looked at her and then down at the Orc. “Oh, someone'll get rid of him. Come on. It's not every day that I get to lead our boss.”

The Orc started walking deeper into the camp, not looking back to check if they were following, or if anything was happening to the dead Orc. Ivano gave a shrug and followed. Brenna walked very close by.

“What's your name?” Ivano asked the Orc, making careful steps to not walk in a pile of fresh shit in the middle of the path.

“Surprised you asked. Name's Snakha.”

“Snakha...You seem different to the others.”

Snakha shrugged, pushing a smaller Orc out of the way. He turned back to yell at Snakha, realised who he was, and received a punch to the face for his trouble. The other Orc slinked away as Snakha looked very proud with himself.

“My father taught me well. Spent nearly every day teaching me words and writing. To be smart and think for myself. That's before I killed him.”

“Why?” Ivano asked flatly.

Snakha shrugged again. “He threw us in the the Black Fist Clan during the civil war. Once I heard you guys were going to help out the other side I knew I needed to change sides. So, I gave my fathers head to show my new loyalty.”

“I'm sure your father's very proud."

He laughed. “If he hadn't taught me so well I would have fought with him to the end.”

More fights were breaking out as they continued deeper into the camp. None seemed to end in a fatality, just more injuries and hurt pride. It was still hurting their overall army's strength.

“What did that Orc do to you?”

“Hmm?”

“The one you just killed? Just back there.”

“Oh...He had an axe that I wanted.” A wicked smile formed on his toothy jaw.

“You killed him for that?” Brenna asked, keeping very close to avoid being dragged off by a rowdy and aroused Orc. “One of your own comrades?”

Snakha shrugged once again. “I did offer him to swap his for mine. His was only little bit better, he barely would have noticed. Idiot should have listened.”

This would have never happened with the old Black Fist Clan. How far have they fallen?

Finally they arrived at a large tent. Several Orcs lounged out the front acting as guards, very badly as they barely recognised his presence. Evidently they had been told what they were meant to be doing and but not actually enforced. It seemed that Zig had very little control over his soldiers, not that he seemed to at the beginning when they all started this campaign. Tonight was no different.

“Alright. He's in there.” Snakha said, “I need to go and recover my axe before someone else has to die. Have fun with the whelp.”

He gave a wave over his back and walked towards where they came. Ivano felt quite isolated and alone, surrounded by so many Orcs. He walked into the tent, the guards did not even try and stop them.

An assassin could just walk in here. He should be more careful, especially since that's how his father came to control the Orc clans.

The inside was nothing like his own tent. Piles of goods and food littered the floor in a disorganised mess. Books and papers lay loose over the ground, dirt trodden into them dozens of times. At the center stood a large table, several Orcs standing around it while one sat. The standing Orcs wore the full body black carapace armour while the seated Orc wore bright yellow, orange and blue clothes that looked like they belonged on a flamboyant Bebbazzar Merchant Lord than an Orc. He looked up and frowned.

“What are you doing here?”

Not, how did you get in here without you knowing first?

“You know why.” Ivano said loudly.

He had not met the Orc leader, Zig, often but he did not like those brief moments. Far more so than meeting any Orc. Something just felt wrong about him, like he was wearing a flesh mask that had slipped. His ridiculous arrogance did help. Ivano always sent a messenger to deal with him. The other Orcs looked rather discomforted around him as well. He was not sure if they were feeling the same thing he was.

“Chief Ivano.” he spoke in a voice lighter than any Orc he had heard before. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

There was a smugness to his voice, and yet he spoke like some some elitist twat from the one of the Kingdoms. Unlike the black carapace armour he wore finer clothes. Like a noble. He could see something like an iron chest plate underneath, but that was all. He was trying to look more like an aristocrat rather than a warlord of Orcs. Ivano doubted he had actually fought at the front. And whether he could actually lead, he seemed to lead through birth right rather than any sort of ability.

“We need to talk.”

“Of course.” he glanced at the other Orcs. “We'll continue this later.”

He gave a wave of his hand to dismiss the other Orcs. They hesitated a moment, glancing at each other, before shrugging and following his orders. Ivano and Brenna moved out of the way. His control seemed tenuous at best.

“Please, have a seat.”

Ivano and Brenna took a seat opposite Zig.

Zig looked slightly different to the other Orcs. The others all bulged and rippled with muscles, even ones that Ivano knew that barely did any exercise. Zig was probably more slim than Ivano, only slightly bigger than Brenna. He was definitely very strong but it came from extensive work, not deriving from their natural physique. Ivano was not sure what led him to think that, but he trusted his instinct. Otherwise he was a normal Orc. One that made him question what his eyes were seeing.

“I've found out that your Orcs have taken some of the food supplies that belong to the Clansmen. I would like them returned.”

What I would like to do is reach over and punch you in the head, Orc.

“I don't know of anything like that.”

Ivano sighed. “Of course you don't. You don't seem to have much control at all.”

A grim smile formed on his face. “My father-”

“Your father, Xugug, poisoned his rival and won control of your clan with our help. His name doesn't mean much here. Seemingly neither does yours. You have a writhing horde of Orcs, and you need to get it under control, if your soldiers are just taking what they want from us. Take control!”

Zig folded his arms as he lent back into his chair.

“We need those supplies.” he said. “Our own have been destroyed by those raiders from Qaiviel.”

“So have ours.” Ivano lent forward, resting an arm on the table. “We need to work together if we want to stop these attacks. And that means not stealing from one another.”

Zig lent forward and began tapping his fingers on the table. Even those looked more thin than a normal Orc.

“What about the clansmen you've sent to hunt them down? Surely they've had some success? Orcs are a little big for such...delicate work.”

Ivano shook his head. He knew it was not true, but he felt that he should induldge him a little. “Some have had success, but four gangs are still missing. I think that they're dead.”

Zig grumbled. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

Is that compassion? Your own Orcs are killing and wounding each other right now. Diminishing our army. I don't understand you.

Zig clapped his hands, focusing his attention on a map in front of him. He too had been given a copy of the map of the Qaiviel Kingdom.

“Your clansmen are having a tough time breaking through this one little city, yes?” There was a serious level of smugness to his voice.

“From what I'm hearing the city is far more prepared for a siege than we were told.”

“Orcs would not have this trouble.”

And yet you could not win a civil war on your own.

“You should let us take care of it.” Zig added.

“If you think you can actually take it, sure. Why not? Send your whole army to finish them off quickly. I would like to hear of an Orc victory. And a reversal of our fortunes.”

It was blatant false praise, but it seemed to work. Zig smiled. “Excellent. I'll let the Orcs know, we'll set to marching tomorrow.”

“You should reach it tomorrow midday, if you move quickly.”

Zig smile turned to a frown as he looked down at the map. His brown eyes looked to the south of Maxill.

“What's here?” he asked. “What's to stop us from being attacked in the rear or the side?”

Actually thinking this through...Perhaps I was a little harsh on him.

“Other towns and fortresses of the Qaiviel Kingdom.” Ivano answered. “Ones that aren't a part of this campaign.”

“Why not? There could be something valuable there. We're not getting much in the way of gold or slaves. If we take them...There might be enough to make it worthwhile for the Wrath of Doom.”

Ivano had to stop himself from laughing at the name being said aloud. He did not believe that was their name when he first heard it.

“If we attack the villages and hamlets as we head to the Border Forts, there's a good chance that they will be able to get word out to the Knight Orders of the south.” Ivano began. “Then we could be facing thousands of armored knights out on the plains, attacking us when we have nowhere to run. They would cut us down without even trying. We will be better off by leaving them alone, and not even let them we know we're here.”

“So...We'll just kill or enslave them all when we head towards the forts. Take those we can take everything of value. That way they can't send out messages for help.” Zig seemed honestly happy with what he had come up with. Ivano was not.

"If they find burnt and looted villages and hamlets they'll know they're on the right track. If they find peaceful villages they might even question whether or not we are invading. It will help to buy us the time we need."

"Unless you compensate us, I'm going to take what I want from them."

“That is not a part of the campaign.” Brenna spoke up for the first time.

It seemed that Zig had barely noticed her before now.

“It's part of ours. Otherwise, why are we here?” Zig was clearly talking about the Orcs as a whole. "We don't want these lands."

“Perhaps after the-”

“No.” Zig cut her off.

Ivano frowned deeply. “Our orders are to cut off supplies to the Border Forts and to surround and assault them in support of the larger attack from the north. Not to go and rape and pillage our way through the Kingdom.”

Zig shrugged. “Why not? We Orcs don't care for your little human rivalries.”

“That's right. You're not here because you've been promised riches and rewards. You're here because we had to save your father and you owe us. I'm asking you to rein yourself in to work with us.”

Zig frowned. “At least we'll get something out of it.” he leaned forward and moved the pieces representing their armies. “When our forces attack these points towards the forts, I'll have some of my Orcs attack the smaller hamlets and villages. We should get quite a haul of slaves and riches...and food for the campaign.”

Ivano could not argue with the last part but he had no intention of unintentionally raising an army of angry peasants and hunters to harass them. To whittle down their army while they blindly lashed out, only to create even more enemies. Every survivor of these raids could join the enemy armies and bolster their forces in readiness for next raid. Not to mention that they will alert the whole Kingdom to their presence and bring down their full force. Better to move as a silently for now.

“No. We won't be doing that.” Ivano said gruffly. “We will take Maxill then continue north west until we reach the Border Forts and their supply lines.”

“You don't command the Orcs. I do.” Zig had an aura of smugness about him. “And they will do what I say. We will be sending Orcs to raid and pillage as I see fit. Since it seems you don't have the strength to fulfill your name sake as Clansmen, I-”

Something within Ivano snapped. The words coming out this Orc annoyed him to no end. He reached over, with all the speed that he could muster, and grabbed the back of Zig's head and slammed it into the wooden table. Wood splintered and broke as he head was thrown down and into the ground. His body followed and splayed and rolled about as he tried to fight him off.

“Listen well.” Ivano hissed. “I am in charge of this offensive, and you will be following my orders. That was the will of the Deweth Clan Chiefs and especially your father. Remember him? Do you understand what I'm saying?”

He tried to stand but Ivano put more pressure on his head. Some parts of his Clansmen lifestyle were impossible to change, Brenna sat motionless as she watched.

“Fine.” he grumbled as the pressure was released. “But I still want the Orcs to attack and sack that city, Maxill. That is still going to be my honor. The first of many.”

“I don't have a problem with that.” Ivano answered, raising him up. “But, you'll be going with them to make sure it's done.”

Zig brushed himself off, a few splinters of wood stuck near his hairline. “And what will you be doing while I lead the assault?”

“I will be organizing the next stage of the campaign, where we will head towards the Border Forts. So long as you take the city quickly there shouldn't be a problem.”

“Should there be?” Zig asked, massaging his head. “Orcs can take one little city.”

“Don't underestimate them. These raids on our forces have carried on for some time.” he began. “It's entirely possible that the Duchess, and the rest of her followers, already know about us. They've made a rotten border town into a fortress. Who knows what else she's got planned.”

“Some of those hunters and raiders would have reported back before the first forces even attacked Maxill.” Zig said, massaging his head. “So of course she would know.”

Ivano nodded. “That doesn't explain everything, unfortunately. It just tells us that we need to move quickly, otherwise we'll all end up dead in this wretched kingdom.”

He picked up the map, brushing off some splinters of wood, and showed Zig.

“See. If they get the message out, all these forces from here.” Ivano pointed to the south and west of Qaiviel. “Will start to push down on us. We won't have anywhere to run and we'll be crushed. Nowhere to run. It's entirely possible they would have sent out the message. Even more reason to get this over with. Capture that city so we can move on with the campaign. If they find us still laying siege they'll destroy us. If they find a ruin they won't know where we've gone. You've got a day, two at most, to take Maxill.”

“You don't have anything to worry about.” Zig thumped his chest proudly.

Ivano sighed, barely suppressing rolling his eyes, and made for the exit. “Just make sure that your Orcs take the city. The clansmen that are there will support you. And return the food you stole!”

“Fine. We'll take the city for you.”

With that, they both left the Orc alone in the tent.

---[]---

Ivano made a speedy return to his tent. He did not want to be in the Orc side of the camp any longer than he had to. They met the Orc, Snakha, again, all too eager to show off his spoils of murder. His claimed axe was slightly larger and sharper than the one sticking out of the dead Orc. He seemed very proud of his work, though disappointed that the other Orcs did not remove the body. Ivano and Brenna quickly excused themselves from their camp. He had even wanted to show Brenna what sort of warrior he really was. Thankfully, she made the smart decision to turn him down and make a speedy exit with him. He did not want to have to find a battered corpse when they started to move again. These Orcs were not gentle.

The other clansmen had returned in his absence after doing a full stock on their resources. It was not good. Even without the Orcs having taken some supplies, which had been returned very quickly since the meeting, they would be hard pressed to make the campaign with what they had. Sixty thousand people devoured their way through their extensive supplies like he could not imagine. Qaiviel hunters had continued to raid them every day and night of the campaign. Some of their food had been poisioned as well, further diminishing their supplies.

“Perhaps Zig was right.” Brenna began. “We could take some food from the villages we pass.”

“We might have to.” Ivano grumbled.

He ran his hand through his hair again, his own feeling strange on his fingers. There were black hairs covering his hand, black hair which he did not have. They were slightly sticky as well but they came off when he rubbed his hands together.

“Odd...Anyway. We have a plan where this can work and we need to follow it.”

Ivano had drawn on the map to recreate what he had told Zig. However, many of the Clansmen present seemed to disapprove of the plan.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“It...all seems to be a very big risk.” a Clansmen spoke up. “What is so important about taking the city? Why not just keep moving to the forts?”

“If we don't they could use it to launch attacks on our rear.” Ivano replied. “It's the only place for many miles where they could organize and supply any attacks. Not an army, but this is certainly where the hunters are based. They could litter hundreds throughout the land. Picking us off at every opportunity. You should never leave enemy forces behind to harass you from the rear if you can help it. And if we do take it we'll have enough supplies to finish the campaign.”

“And if we don't take it?” Brenna asked.

“Then we'll have to continue towards the border forts at all speed. Those stupid Orcs can be our rear guard then if they fail. Such undisciplined, ungrateful creatures. I'm sure they'll bog down the knights long enough for us to finish our mission.”

Ivano lent back, staring at the few stands of black hair on his hands. Something was starting to form in his head. About why he felt such strange feelings when he saw Zig.

He's meant to be the son of Xugug....Is he the first son. A thrall? It might explain a lot. Though not why the Orcs follow him. Do they not know, or do they just not care? His father's reputation...as a murdering usurper? Ha! From what I've seen, no. I might want to ask that Orc, Snakha, later. Find out what I can.

He had no way of knowing for sure, though using such an argument against Zig to get him motivated would only cause their army to disintegrate even further.

“Everyone is dismissed.” Ivano said. “There's not much else we can do tonight. Make sure everyone gets lots of rest. It might be the last good one for some time.”

Ivano looked down at the map infront of him. Something told him that this hastily thrown together campaign and force would not succeed. The Clan's Chieftains had been so eager for this, chomping at the bit now they had a massive increase in forces. So little planning and preperation had gone in. Nevertheless, he had to persevere and continue as best he could. His life, both here and back in the Clans, would be over if he did not.

Brenna was waiting near the tent entrance. Catching his eye brought a smile to her mouth.

“Tomorrow could be a serious battle.” she began. “And I've never done it with one of these slaves. You up for one?”

Ivan laughed. “Surely you're not talking about a man for me?”

She shrugged, and smiled as she raised her hands in apology. “My brother is like that. Doesn't bother me at all.”

“No. But, do you want to watch?” he asked teasingly, rolling up the map.

She shrugged again. “Might be the last night...”

He laughed heartily again, locking the maps away. He placed his arm around her shoulders as they walked out.

“Why not.” he said. “Give us something to gear us up for the fight.”

-----------

Hello again.

I wanted to try and show the perspective from the other side of the invasion. The Clansmen leader is a radical, for his side, wanting to conquer rather than outright kill their enemies. He's the outsider, so imagine what the rest of them are like. However, he has no qualms at sacrificing the Orcs if something goes wrong.

Also the issues of two armies with wildly different leadership styles and objectives for their invasion. I'm sure that happens in real life. In this case the Clansmen want to ransack while the Orcs are here because they owe the Clans a favour. That affects their willingness to fight and what they are willing to do in the invasion. The Orcs are not that enthused about being here and it reflects in their behaviour.

These Orcs are far more like the Warhammer breed of Orc, rather than the Warcraft one that they met at the lake. Basically all the good ones are dead or not fighting, as the two lamented on how different they are now.

The Orc leader...There's no two ways about it. He's more than likely a Thrall. Since they are meant to be so physically different than a normal Orc it's rather hard to keep it a secret. More like an open secret. None of the Orcs really give him much respect, not that he seems to care, and acts like he's still in charge.

It seems that Duchess Belinda and Alfred took Anton's words seriously. They've held off a force for some time but not for much longer. Thankfully there's help coming towards them, not that they know that.

We will be following the Clansmen leader. See how things, set in motion here, start to affect the world.

Basically, that's that.

Thanks for reading! And for any Donations!

Chapter 051 - Payments of all Kinds

Chapter 051:

Anton knew that they would soon be arriving at the edge of Maxill. The forest had started to clear and there were marks on the ground from constant movement. He did not miss the still slightly charred grounds of the former bandit camp. What little remained of the camp had been weathered and broken over time, starting to return to the earth. Now that he saw it again a part of him wondered how much of a bandit force they really were. It even looked as if someone had rifled through the remains.

Those bandits were nothing like the Deweth Clansmen that they had to fight at the lake. They had to fight another three groups of Clansmen during their trip. Each time Kal spotted them first and were quickly dispatched. By the time they spotted the fourth group it was easier to spot their signs. He did not think he was anywhere near Kal's ability for tracking but he felt he was getting better.

Each group seemed surprised that they had gotten so close to Maxill, as if the concept that their comrades could be defeated was completely alien to them. Anton did not waste much time with the interrogation of any of the survivors. There was nothing they gave that the first clansmen had not given or they had been able to infer.

Such mental wanderings were stopped when Kal, riding on Verona's horse, pulled hard on her shoulder. Verona whistled to him to stop as well.

They were very close to Maxill now. Instead of the near silence of the forest, an occasional rustle of some leaves and chirps of strange and alien birds, he could hear something different. Faintly in the distance they could hear shouting and thumping. It was the sound of something heavy crashing into something solid. And breaking it.

“You hear that?” Verona asked.

Both Anton and Kal nodded.

“It sounds like a siege.” Kal mumbled.

She reached to her waist and pulled out a thin piece of cloth, wrapping it around her head to cover her face. A moment later it covered her Beast-kin traits. Now she looked just like the first time she arrived at Maxill.

“I've been near some sieges before. That's the sound of stone hitting wood.”

He focused on the sound and could faintly hear the splintering of wood. The enhancement prayer power was not necessary to figure out what was happening.

“Guess the Duchess is still holding out.” Anton said. “These Clansmen and Orcs seemed to have underestimated their opponents.”

“Only because you warned them.” Kal bitterly smiled.

“True. So.” he got his horse moving again. “What's the plan when we run into the back of them?”

Verona cocked her head silently as she brought herself close.

“Don't you want to do what we normally do?” Verona asked. “Just charge in there with your magic, mine in case they get close and Kal to keep an eye out and shoot them with arrows? I thought that was the plan."

Anton chuckled. “That's what we'll probably end up doing, but I wanted to check. However-”

“We can't fight tens of thousands of Orcs and Clansmen by ourselves. Even with your magic.” Kal said.

Her face was hidden but her posture was resolute, she was not going to shy away from her thoughts anymore. Verona nodded.

“That's a fair point.” she said as she continued to nod, scrunching her eyes tight in thought.

Finally she snapped her fingers. In the relative silence of the forest it seemed to travel very far.

“So...We'll use Anton's magic to force a hole through the enemy siege forces, then head straight to Maxill. The defenders will see us fighting the enemy, especially if you throw a bit more magic as we run. Hopefully they'll recognise us as friendlies and not shoot arrows at us.”

“Some of the guardsmen might remember your silver hair.” Anton said teasingly.

Verona ran her hands through her pony tail and brought it infront of her.

“Hopefully they don't think I'm one of them.”

Anton hummed. The, slightly muted, revelation that Verona had Clansmen blood in her did nothing to change his feelings about her. Nor had Verona even brought it up again. It had no bearing on her. However it might make things a bit more difficult for those that know the Deweth Clans more deeply and care about their blood. From the words of the Clansmen it sounded like they were some distance away and quite possibly on the northern side of their territory.

They continued in silence for quite some time, the sounds of a continuing siege growing ever louder. Kal stopped them again as they neared the rear of the besieging army. A sprawling mass of Orcs, with their black carapce armour, and quite a few Clansmen, with their chain mail and fur ladened bodies, emerged through the thinning trees. Their attention was directed west, towards Maxill. Discipline and order was terrible in their ranks; they had not seen them approaching.

There were not many this far away from the city walls but they became more numerous further he looked. At the edge of the forest he could see something akin to a catapult, ten of them. Numerous Orcs and Clansmen surrounded them, winding them back and readying another giant stone. There were at least ten of them that he could see, but from the noise he was sure there were many more. No matter how strong the wooden walls of Maxill were, there was no way they could hold out indefinitely against this kind of bombardment.

They had to attack now if they were to help Maxill and the Duchess.

“Once we start the attack they'll be confused for a little bit.” Kal began. “But they'll simply overwhelm us if we stay in the forest.”

“Can you see the walls?”

She stared into the distance for a few seconds.

“Yes. It's still standing but it seems to have taken some damage.”

Anton prepared fire magic within him. While he did not want to burn the forest to the ground, it was going to be the best and safest way to get through. It would also cause so much chaos that they could charge out without interference. Taking another deep breath he formed the magic within him, forming six tethered rings of flame. Using all the mental energy he could spare he pushed it as far as he could, well within the camp. The moment he released the magic, with the rush of the heaviness leaving him, he remembered how destructive this would be. They were far too close.

“Both of you, get back.” He whispered harshly.

As Verona whipped their horses backwards he saw the ground near the middle of their encampment begin to glow. A few looked to the ground in surprise, their faces quickly turning to shock and unbridled horror as the grass began to fizzle and burn. A moment later the forest exploded into a cacophony of sound and heat as the central pillar of flame erupted from the forest floor. Those caught in the middle were instantly incinerated. The rest screamed as they ran away terrified.

The heat was starting to reach them already as they moved behind a wall formed by large trees. Anton hissed at them to dismount and make the horses lie down. As soon as he feet touched the grass he felt the earth begin to rumble again. The tethered flame pillars were about to emerge, and bring so much more devastation. He grabbed them both, both were looking over to watch, and pulled them down. He quickly grabbed the reins and got the horses to lide down, with quite a burst of effort, as the world began to glow bright red.

With a roar the tethered pillars exploded into life. There were no screams this time, only the roar of the fire. Anton held them both and threw himself against the large trees as the heat seared around them. Seconds passed as the heat worked its its way through the tree. He was sure he could hear screams but the roar of the flame made it nearly impossible to tell.

Finally the roar began to die down. The horses neighed, a quick look showing they were scared but not injured. He did not want to have to think of Dana's wrath if she found out they were killed by him.

“Wow!” Verona cried out, looking up at the burning leaves falling around them.

Kal murmured something as she slowly freed herself from Anton. Her hand lingered on his arm for more than a few seconds, a twitch ran through her fingers like she did not want to let go. Verona stood up and peered around the tree to former encampment.

The sky was filled with twirling embers, of leaves and twigs, slowly descending through the thick smoke. An oppressive heat came from former camp. A quick glance around revealed it to look the same as when he had used the magic against the Yellow Goblins; several large, slightly molten and glassed craters were standing where there had once been trees, digging themselves several meters deep. Nothing had survived. Either side of the craters the trees were either burnt to a crisp or, further away, were bursting in flame.

The only thing left moving were the Orcs and Clansmen manning the siege weapons. They were out of range of the blast, but the sheer shock had stopped them firing and were now running away.

“Quickly.” he said, raising both of their horses. “Before they recover.”

“Can they even?” Verona asked as they mounted their horse.

He guessed that while the immediate enemy would take some time to recover, many more would be coming here. Those would not be too stunned to attack them. And then they would be swarmed by those reinforcements with little cover. He had also used a significant portion of his mana in the attack, he could not do it that soon and he had no idea how many more would be coming.

With their horses running as fast as they could manage, they charged out through the still burning forest. It was unbelievably hot as they ran through. They both had to keep whipping the reins of the horses to make them travel through the slightly cooler sections on the edges of the craters. It was quite a bit of effort to get them through the still burning ground but they made it through. Speed was their friend.

Shouts quickly followed them as they broke out onto the dried and burnt grass, it had not taken them long to start to regroup. No arrows followed. Only insults.

As they passed the catapults Anton let loose several small fireballs. He could manage these fine. It was quite difficult to control them while riding on a horse, but he wanted to make sure they were broken. Each burst into flames as the fire bombs touched their wooden frames.

Anton looked further to his right, towards the north, and saw even more catapults, even some giant wooden structures that looked like siege towers. He threw as many fire bombs as he could at the war machines. Most struck, the Orcs and Clansmen manning the machines shouting out in surprise as they ran for their lives.

Verona had almost covered half of the open ground before he looked at the walls. They were in a very bad state, even though it looked like they had been repaired before the siege. Most of the vertical pillars of wood were broken off halfway and a few were virtually broken off at the ground. Some of the ramparts along the top remained intact. Strangely the gate looked to be somewhat intact. The closer he got the more he was certain that he could see people hiding amongst the destroyed wall.

As he opened his mouth to yell, Verona beat him to it.

“Open the fucking gate!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “We're on your side! We've just destroyed them, so let us in!”

He did not see any movement amongst the small specks of green and white, the colours of the Qaiviel Kingdom, peering over the wooden walls. Verona yelled again, only slowing down when she was a few dozen meters from the gate. There had been no arrows or bolts thrown at her. He hoped they were too stunned or confused to act. He quickly caught up and brought his horse next to her. Both of them looked very worried.

A face peered from the top of the gate, almost a smile on his face, then retreated as quickly as it came. Slowly one of the gate doors began to open. An anxious and dirty soldier peered his head through. Anton recognised him, one of the soldiers who manned this gate when he first arrived and tried to extort money from him.

“Y...You!” he managed to squeak out, pointing a finger at him. The soldier glanced behind him. “Quickly. I don't know why you're here, but come inside before they try to attack again. Quickly!”

Anton quickly looked back at the forest line as the soldier waved them through. The flames had spread rapidly through the forest. Shimmers of heat wafted out of the burning forest, flickers of the Orcs and Clansmen running about. Most of the siege weapons were destroyed, but that was not going to stop an army with walls in this state.

Once inside several other guards moved forward and closed the gate. All were tired and dirty, the whites of their uniform were blemished by a mixture of dirt and soot.

“Um...Anton. Yes?” the man began. “What...What are you doing here?”

“It's...it's a little difficult to explain.” he replied. “Is someone in charge here?”

He nodded. “Alfred and Duchess Belinda are in charge of the defence. They're set up just a bit back there.”

He pointed towards the centre of the village. There was something like a white and green command tent established in the centre of the first crossroad.

“Thank you.”

Anton saw that he looked quite tired and was covered in some deep scratches and cuts. He lent down and touched his metal helmet, chanting a healing prayer. The wounds began to close and his eyes recovered their strength. Anton gave him a nod and moved forward before he could respond, Verona and Kal following beside.

They only took a few paces before more soldiers began to swarm them. All looked dirty and tired. However, their weapons and armour seemed to be new underneath the accumulated grime. They lowered their weapons at them, not out of aggression but in caution.

I suppose that they wouldn't just let us in with just that. You are in a state of siege after all.

The command tent flap opened and a man emerged wearing an immaculate butlers uniform. Behind him was another Qaiviel soldier, an impressive green and white uniform. He was a little bit younger than Alfred, easily in his late fifties with a full grey beard. All the other soldiers gave them room as they approached. When Alfred, and the other soldier, came close, the frowns quickly turned into a small smile.

“Anton...” Alfred spoke lightly, he could only shake his head. “You've come at quite a difficult time.”

“It seems so.” Anton looked back at the rising pillar of smoke from the forest. “I think we've got most of their siege weapons. It looks like you're having some trouble with some Clansmen and Orcs.”

Alfred smiled. “We do. Well, since you're here....We should tell you what's happening. But not here, we'll speak more in the command tent. We have some wine and food if you wish.”

“You're not worried about them attacking again?” Verona asked, looking around at the state of the soldiers around them.

“Absolutely. But...” Alfred looked along the growing plumes of smoke coming over the wooden wall. “They won't be attacking us for the moment at least. We have soldiers on watch.”

They began to dismount. Quite a few soldiers looked oddly at Verona and Kal but did not move to stop them. Anton took the time to sneak a bite on one of the Karak fruit, his mana recovering with every bite. Verona and Kal moved close to Anton, some of the soldiers weapons clincking as they lowered their weapons.

“All three of them will be coming with us.” Alfred glared at the soldiers, they quickly averted their gaze. The tension of the siege had frayed a few nerves and minds.

The lone Qaiviel soldier, with a full grey beard, smiled at Anton. His face did feel familiar.

“Do I know you?” Anton asked non-committally.

The bearded man smiled and nodded. “We only met once. When you were being dragged off to meet the Duchess.”

Anton searched his memories as quickly as he could. Back to the first time they have arrived at Maxill, when Lester's shop was being attacked. He snapped his fingers as he remembered.

“You, and a bunch of other guardsmen, tried to stop those thugs from dragging us off.”

The man smiled.

“That we were. Never would have thought that one visit could have changed that.” he jerked his head towards the command tent. He was clearly talking about the Duchess. “Name's Hemiskr.” he offered his rough, warn and calloused hands. “It's an honour to greet you in person.”

Anton felt a little embarrassed. Having any profession of honour or gratitude towards him was quite embarrassing to him. However, especially for the upcoming meeting, he pushed it down and shook his hand.

“So, what are you doing now?” Anton asked. “Last time you didn't seem to be the Duchess's favourite.”

Hemiskr let out a hearty laugh, Verona wincing from the volume. “Now that Alfred's in charge, and not giving out favours from how much money you can steal from people, I've been able to show what sort of warriors my family has always been. My family has always been at the front-lines of-”

“Hemiskr!” Alfred yelled back from the edge of the tent.

He jumped and returned an awkward smile. “Better not wait. She still has a temper with people being late, not even Alfred can calm that part of her.”

Anton did not want to wait any longer either. Especially when it was with someone as important as the Duchess. Verona walked beside him while Kal made a concious effort to stay in his shadow and hidden from their gaze.

Inside the tent, sitting on the other side of a large wooden table, sat Duchess Belinda. Despite the state of siege, and the constant attacks up until a minute ago, she wore her best clothing; a bright red and white flamboyant Victorian styled dress. Even the white gloves had not been tarnished by the chaos of the siege. Although not even make up could hide the tiredness evident in her eyes.

“Good morning Anton.” Her voice was as smooth and calm as before. “I think that you are the last person that I expected to see today.”

She gave a curt nod to Verona and Kal as they entered, both of whom returned it.

“I didn't think that you would be dressed like that. Considering you're under siege.” Anton commented as he looked her over.

The Duchess gave a slight shrug. “If we are going to loose our lives, then I should at least look my best.”

Anton looked out at the soldiers near the wall. They certainly did not look their best. Their efforts were directed at surviving and not how well they looked.

I guess not everything can change.

“How long has it been?” Anton asked.

“A couple of days.” Alfred answered. “Though, I doubt we would have made it through to midday. They have stepped up their attacks since this morning.”

Belinda chuckled as she lent back into her chair. “Though, not for much longer. When you first showed me that you were a mage, you never even hinted that you had such powers.”

She nodded to the plumes of smoke through the gap in the tent's flaps. Anton held back a smile.

“I didn't want to destroy half the city to show it off.”

“And both your friends are with you this time.” she looked them both over. “Though, one still appears to be...wounded.”

Anton looked at Kal, whom he guessed had her eyes on him. There was more than a slim chance that they suspected something about her heritage.

We'll need to work on a more complete disguise when we head to Graterious. Still, since they haven't said anything means that either they don't know or they don't care.

“We came here today to help out our ally.” Anton said, once again not answering Belinda's statement about Kal.

Belinda waved her hand at Alfred and Hemiskr, immediately getting three chairs and placing them across the table from her. Anton was shown to the one central chair, Verona and Kal took their seats either side.

“I didn't think we had such an agreement.” she spoke with a light and slightly teasing tone. “All you've done, before today, is buy some bondsmen from me. For a very good price...But that hardly makes us allies. Although, what you've done now...”

“True.” Anton replied. “But many of those bondsmen still have friends and family here. It would be very hard to keep order and control if they found out we let them all die. Especially when we could've done something.”

“So, it's a selfish reason again?” a smirk drew on her face, even Alfred visibly relaxed. “That means that you're looking for a reward for helping us out...At least I can presume that we can trust you. ”

“That...That and you are the only person we do can business with in the whole Kingdom.”

Finally a full and hearty laugh escaped her lips, one Anton was not expecting. “So that's the reason...The same one that you used on me to convince me to let Alfred manage my territories.”

Anton glanced at Alfred. His face was completely unreadable, and Belinda's was continuing to smile. He did not know how to respond to that properly, without seemingly trying to drive a wedge between the two, so he smiled as he looked at the map.

“Very. Very sneaky and manipulative.” he heard Kal whisper, Verona heard and smiled at her. None of the others seemed to hear.

“But, you did come here to help?” She asked. “You didn't just happen to arrive at the same time as them?”

Anton nodded.

“That's a relief.” She waved at Alfred who poured her a glass of wine. Nothing was said as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the flavour of the drink.

“Duchess Belinda,” Anton began. She waved him down.

“Right, sorry. Just Belinda.” she smiled. “Forgive me for saying this but should we be having such a relaxing talk while there is still an army banging at your walls?”

A faint smile drew on her lips as she looked towards Alfred. The butler stiffened his back and looked to the wall.

“The fire magic that you unleashed, and destroying their siege weapons on your flight to the wall, has put them in complete disarray. It will take some time before they are ready to attack again.”

“You can't go and attack them now?” Verona asked, looking at the map on the table. It was of Maxill and the surrounding woods and villages. Quite a few sections of the walls were marked in red, as well as several spots in the forest.

Alfred and Hemiskr shook their heads.

“Our hunters say that the enemy has at least ten or maybe twenty thousand Clansmen and Orcs attacking us.” Alfred answered.

“Myself and the other guardsmen, and some mercenaries that Alfred managed to get just in time, bring our force up to maybe three thousand.” Hemiskr added, in his deep voice. “Oh, it'll probably give them a big surprise, but then they'll just cut us down and take the city.”

“There's sixty thousand.” Kal said quietly, drawing away all life from the tent. “Thirty thousand Deweth Clansmen and the same again of Orcs. I think you've been fighting the vanguard of their army, the rest are heading towards your Border Forts.”

Alfred sighed, Hemiskr shook his head, and even Duchess Belinda ran a hand through her ornately decorated flowing red hair.

“And how do you know that?” Alfred asked.

“We asked nicely.” Anton replied.

They were all smart enough to realise what he meant. Belinda gave a slap on the table.

“In light of that news, we can't just sit here all day.”

I imagine that's what you've been doing all day...

“On the first day we managed to get messages out, warning everyone about the Orc and Clansmen attack. Whether or not they listened is another matter. But, that doesn't help us right now.” She looked intensely into his eyes. “We need to work something out with you. How can you aid us in our plight?”

“We've come to offer our help and assistance.” Anton began, drawing an odd look from those gathered. “But, as you say we're are not official allies. Rather, we'll be assisting as mercenaries.”

Belinda leaned back into her chair as Alfred moved behind her, Hemiskr moving near the tent entrance.

“I guessed that might have been your action here.” Belinda said quietly, eyeing the three of them separately. “So, what is your price?”

That was one thing that Anton had not thought too deeply about. He had no idea of what an average pay for a normal mercenary would be, let alone a mage of his power.

I could just ask for money, I'm sure that I could earn quite a bit of money as a mercenary mage. But I'm just going to be spending it here and it'll just end up back in their pockets or in Graterious's. We've still got those crates full of gold...I should ask for something more useful to Atros. Resources and people would be good...maybe even some sort of magical items, like whatever Jonathan wanted for his forge.

“Not in gold,” Anton replied, receiving a frown in response. “Or silver.”

He glanced at Verona and Kal, who looked blankly at him. They did not seem to have an opinion on the matter; Verona knowing full well that they had chests full of gold and Kal not needing money to survive.

“So what then?” Alfred asked. He fingers began to fidget. What were they thinking he could possibly ask for? Even Belinda seemed a little anxious. Did they think he might ask for her?

“We are looking for more people and resources for Atros, to help it grow as a city.”

“You're still expanding?” Belinda asked, a weight lifted from her shoulders. “You are living in a monster and beast....infested lands. Why not just move your village to the Qaiviel Kingdom? Surely there are more opportunities for you here?”

Is she trying to 'recruit' me?

Anton shook his head.

“We like our freedom and our way of life. Without anyone telling us what we are doing is wrong, without religions and whatnot interefering.” Anton replied. “So we are going to continue to grow in safety there.”

Verona and Kal agreed, Kal doubly so.

“But at the moment, we still need people and extra resources from outside. That's what we would like to get in return.”

“In support for helping us?” Belinda asked. “And the Kingdom?”

“Yes.” Anton replied with a nod.

Belinda smiled bitterly as she looked at Alfred. He gave a non-committal shrug.

“Due to the siege...and other continuing and prevailing conditions before your arrival...” Belinda spoke very lightly. “Our support, for some time, would be rather limited.”

“I understand.” Anton replied. “A siege-”

Something flashed over Belinda's eyes. A plan had just formed in her head. She pulled on Alfred's hand and down to her face. Anton stopped and waited while they talked amongst themselves in hushed and rapid whispers. After nearly half a minute of talking rapidly they parted. Belinda looked rather pleased.

“Well, Anton.” Belinda began. “There may be a way for you to help us and yourself more than you first thought.”

“Oh?” Verona asked.

“Indeed.” Belinda waved her hand at Hemiskr, who retrieved a tea set that he handed to Alfred.

Alfred took the set and placed it on the table, taking great care to not elicit a clink from the fine pottery. Clearly he had done this many, many times. Nobody spoke until he began to pour out the purple fruity liquid.

“While the territory that I control is not great and not as wealthy as I desire, but if I had more...Then I could help you more.”

A wicked smile formed on her face. She took her cup and sipped at the purple liquid, Alfred offering one to Anton and Verona. It was clear that Kal was not going to, though she may have wanted to. She kept her body completely still, her head turning to watch him as he moved close to her. When Alfred moved back to Belinda's side she began speaking again.

“More bondsmen, talented people and specialised equipment and gear. I found out from Lester that, not only did you buy enough weapons and armour to establish a small warband, but you also bought something very specific for a forge.”

“You didn't hurt him. Did you?” Anton asked softly.

Belinda smiled and shook her head. “No. I simply had Alfred ask him what you had bought.”

Alfred kept his face flat.

“Is he still here?”

Belinda nodded. “Yes. But, I'm afraid that he's not taken the siege very well.” she said with a sigh. “His business was only starting to pick up, and now he's scared that he's going to be killed. Lester has become a very good source of revenue for me; he's already started to sell our goods beyond my borders.”

“That's good to know. I'll check in on him before we leave the Kingdom. Anyway.” Anton continued. “You were saying....”

“Yes. I do not control much, in land or riches, compared to the other royals. My previous...attitude, to management of my territories, has not helped.” She tried desperately to hold her face straight as it tried to wince. Her previous management style had been...lacking, to say the least. “Now, I have greater prestige than ever before, but if I could get more, say, for being instrumental to beating back an overwhelming offensive...I could leverage that for more territory. More people, more power and territory for me, that could also be used to help you.”

Anton was quickly guessing where this was going.

“So, you want me to be a mercenary in your employ to improve your political position. And if anyone asks who managed to acquire a mercenary mage, Blood Berserker and an expert poison archer-”

“Poison?” Alfred glanced at Kal, who held her body still.

“Yes.” Anton replied. “A few of the clansmen have found out how dangerous that is.”

Kal remained motionless, other than a slight flexing of her fingers. Belinda's head twitched, frowning at Anton.

“Wait. You also just said a Blood Berserker.” Belinda's voice wavered slightly.

Her eyes first looked at Kal, but Kal wore the bow and quiver full of arrows. Their eyes landed on Verona, who chuckled and grinned wildly back.

“That's me.” she chuckled, pointing to the red tattoos covering her hands. She even pulled down the scarf around her neck. They showed up so clearly against her white skin.

“I've never seen someone with the marks that extensive.” Alfred hummed as he looked more closely.

“How many have you seen?” Verona asked.

“Five.” he replied. “Though they only had a few marks on them. Barely the size of a hand, that's why I didn't think that they were the marks of a Blood Berserker. They were still very dangerous though. Not that I don't think you are.”

Verona laughed. “I wonder what I'm like compared to them.”

Alfred hummed and retreated his presence back to Belinda's side.

“So, you want us to say that you found and hired us, so you can increase your prestige and territory? And in return, we get more people and resources. Sounds simple enough, and one based on selfishness...so long as you can hold up your end.”

Belinda smiled and nodded.

“Indeed. Larger cities near the capital would never be reassigned in such a manner. But out this far, the word of a Knight Order Commander would be enough to get me dozens of smaller hamlets and villages. Especially if the previous ruler was gone or inept.”

“Do you know any of the ones nearby?” Anton asked.

She clicked her tongue and slowly rapped her fingers on the table.

“Most of the Orders surround the capital. To the north, one currently resides in the Border Forts. He and I...Have never got on very well. However, with the changing fortunes of my territory, and with how this attack may be dealt with by my forces, that may change his attitude of me. If you do happen to see him, do mention that I hired you to defend Qaiviel lands.”

“I'll be sure to remember that.” Anton spoke quietly. “ But, you sound like this is not going to be the only battle.”

“If what you say is true.” Alfred began, “I doubt they would commit sixty thousand soldiers to this one city. It's too many. It makes more sense for them to continue on to the Border Forts. Unless this was just a step in their plan.”

“Sixty thousand soldiers were not present in that camp.” Kal began, all looking towards the fully clothed person. “There would have been six or seven at most, I'm guessing.”

Kal trailed off at the end. Some of her confidence seemed to drop off in the presence of strangers. Kal looked to Anton, he was sure that she was smiling. “Less now.”

Alfred and Hemiskr agreed with her assessment.

“That does seem possible.” Hemiskr said. “We wouldn't be able to hold them off otherwise.”

“So, where are the rest of them?” Verona asked.

Alfred brought out another map. The same one that he had brought out in the garden, the map of the Qaiviel Kingdom. He removed the cups of tea and laid out the map.

“I've been thinking that this is the attack that you were thinking could happen.” Alfred said with a deep grumble. “If there are sixty thousand soldiers, they could carve a deep wound into the kingdom before the Knight Orders could rally. But...If they really are heading towards the Border Forts....”

His hands tracked from Maxill to the squares on the edge of the Qaiviel Kingdom and the Deweth Clans territory to the Border Forts that protected them from incursions. His attention was stuck on large dots, the same size as Maxill.

“If they attack these cities behind the forts first, then the forts themselves, and attack in force from the north, they could cut off their supplies and reinforcements. No reinforcements or help...Even with a warning I don't know if they could hold surrounded and besiged by so many. We've already sent them a warning, but I'm not sure what they could do about it, or if they actually received it, or if they took is seriously. There's no way to tell...but if it falls...”

He straightened up and sighed. “Then there would be nobody to stop them for hundreds of miles. Hemiskr?”

The elderly soldier perked up.

“Get everyone positioned on the wall to keep a watch out for any movement of forces coming out from the forest. Especially if they are heading towards the north, north west.”

“Yes Sir.” Hemiskr saluted happily and ran out the tent.

A few quick shouts and he could hear a flurry of movement. Anton turned back to Belinda.

“Do the Deweth Clans and the Orcs have enough people to even occupy the Qaiviel Kingdom?”

Alfred shook his head.

“No. But, they could cause significant damage before they are beaten back. Miles of destroyed and looted cities.”

“I suppose that's good to know.” Anton said offhandedly. He coughed and straightened his back. “But, we will agree to your proposal. We will be mercenaries in your employ until the combined Orc and Clansmen force is defeated.”

She smiled warmly. “Thank you. All of you. I will honour our agreement. I'm sure that we'll work something out to be written on paper once we are victorious.”

“I'm glad that you're so confident.” Anton said as they all began to rise from their seats.

Belinda shrugged, making her way to the tent entrance. “Why not. Now we have a formerly unknown Grand Mage on our side. And if we lose, I don't owe you anything.”

------------

Hello.

(Hopefully my grammer is a bit better this time. It probably won't though. :)

So, blasted their way through the rear of the enemy and took out their siege weapons on the way through. Everyone's very happy to see their unexpected arrival. Got a verbal contract for a future alliance and delivery of resources. So that's good.

Belinda was just afraid for a moment that he was going to ask for her hand in a marriage or something. Though she was glad that he was helping for purely practical reasons. That, I think, is a big part of her. Not trusting someone when they say they're helping out of good will.

And battle about to start...So...

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 052 - Counterattack

Chapter 052:

They moved quickly to the eastern gate of Maxill. The soldiers and guardsmen that they passed straightened up and looked less tired as Duchess Belinda walked past. He was utterly shocked when he saw her gave a small, but polite, nod to them as she passed. Had she actually changed that much? Or was it a cynical attempt to make them fight harder? Ultimately it did not matter. They would fight harder and increase the possibility of her surviving either way.

“Hemiskr said something about mercenaries.” Anton said, turning to Alfred who remained very close to Duchess Belinda. “Are they equipped with the Kingdom's armour?”

Alfred shook his head. “Some of them are, but most don't wear such bright and vibrant colours. If they weren't pointed out you probably wouldn't notice them.”

He pointed to a congregation of dull white and green coloured soldiers. They were sitting around a small fire, pieces of roasting meat sizzling of the fire while they worked on their weapons. Amongst them were some far darker armoured soldiers, mainly browns and greys. Each had mismatched but sturdy pieces of weapons and armour. They were worn but had been through combat.

“I just hoped that they didn't decide to flee this morning.” Belinda said quietly. “But they've been paid well.”

A few of the mercenaries glanced up but continued their work, paying them little mind. Anton could hear the sound of the whetstone grinding on the iron of their swords.

“Is there any part of the wall that's we can still walk on?” Belinda asked.

Most of the wall was not in the best state when he last arrived. But there had not been giant rocks pelted at them. On the collapsed and damaged sections soldiers laid low and peered out at the still burning and smoking forest. How much longer was that fire going to continue?

“The gatehouse is still intact.” Alfred said. “But, I don't think you should stand on the edge of the wall.”

She turned and threw up a quizzical brow.

“You are far more noticeable than any of us.” He said.

She looked at her bright red and white clothes, sighing when she finally realised what he was alluding to.

“Then just do your job and protect me.” she said offhandedly. It seemed she had returned to her previous behaviour, judging by the loud sigh that Alfred let out.

Next to the large gate was a small wooden door that led them up a set of stairs to the top. A guard moved to stop her but was waved away by Alfred. A small wooden staircase led them to the top. By the end Belinda was panting a little, seemingly not that physically fit.

As the light and sun graced them again he saw the devastation that he had unleashed. Even Kal gasped in surprise while Verona simply whistled in surprise. Nearly a third of the forest that they could see was on fire. The center, where they ran through, had already burnt down and only wisps of smoke rose into the sky. All around was another matter. Those trees were still burning in a growing and spreading inferno. Great volumes of smoke belowed out of the spreading fire and settled back into the forest. A slight breeze came from behind and kept it there.

He was about to ask Kal if she could see how many people were moving in the forest but stopped himself. The reason was obvious.

“The smoke.” Kal began. “Is settling throughout the forest. There's no way they can breath in there. They don't have a lot of time before they choke to death or they'll need to break out and attack.”

“Just like with the Goblins in the mountain.” Verona added with a smile.

“Doesn't matter how they die, so long as it inflicts casualties on the enemy.” Alfred said dryly.

“Sir!” a voice shouted from below.

Anton looked down and saw a Qaiviel guardsmen yelling up to them.

“What?” Alfred barked back.

“There's a lot of people coming out of the forest to the north. I've never seen so many before.”

“Guess that's the main force then.” Anton said dryly.

Everyone looked north. The forest continued in almost a straight line to the horizon, only expanding to the west near the very edge of his vision. A small sea of green and blacks, oranges and greys moved north west from the forest. It was more people in one place than he had ever seen in his entire life.

“By the...Are they going to attack from the north?” Belinda asked, sounding very worried. “Most of the soldiers have been brought away from there.”

Alfred said nothing, reaching underneath the side of his uniform. He pulled out something that Anton had not expected to see in this world. A telescope. Without explaining Alfred expanded the telescope and looked towards the north. He stood motionless for some time watching the moving mass of people.

“That must be the main assault.” he said, keeping watch through the telescope. “It has to be. The Clans and Orcs couldn't just throw away so many people on a campaign.”

“They heading for those forts?” Verona asked, leaning close to the edge of the wall and looking over. “Are we going to go after them?”

Anton glanced at her, Verona just shrugged. “I'm just anxious to have another fight. To properly test out my power.”

Anton hummed. Verona had kept herself under control when she had fought, but against so many, so many sources of blood and carnage, he wondered if she could keep herself from going mad.

“Are they just going to pass us by?” Verona asked again, half pouting that nobody had answered her question.

Kal squeaked, pointing towards the forest infront of them. Out of the burning forest thousands of Orcs and hundreds of Clansmen poured out. Between every dozen there was a crude wooden ladder. Not large enough to breach the walls at their full height, but more than enough to climb the damaged sections.

“They're going to try to take the city before we can dig in. Or give chase.” Alfred began to usher the Duchess back down.

As soon as she had started to descend Alfred turned his attention to Anton.

“Anton.” he began. “As part of the mercenary contract that you agreed to with Duchess Belinda, I ask you to help us fend off this attack and drive them from our lands.”

“I will.” Anton replied. “I've used quite a bit of mana to set fire to the forest but I should be able to slow them down, if not wipe them out, with what I've got left. You've got archers, right?”

Alfred nodded.

“Good. Make sure they're in position and tell them to attack the moment they can. Don't wait for an order.”

Alfred nodded again and hurried down to the ground. Anton heard orders yelled and rapid movement of armoured soldiers and guardsmen followed. He turned his attention to the Orc and Clansmen force approaching.

“There's about three thousand Orcs, and eight hundred Clansmen.” Kal said, lowering the thin cloth so her eyes were not impeded.

Verona chuckled and activated her power. The blood swirled up and into a small sphere. She leant over the short parapet and looked towards the ground.

“I'll head down and wait on the inside of the city. The range of my power isn't that good, so I'll kill anyone of them that manage to get through.”

She chuckled, lightly kissing Anton and then turning to Kal, giving her a quick hug.

“Keep him safe.” she said with a wide smile. “You did pretty good last time."

Kal furiously nodded, taking off her bow and nocking an arrow. The iron end glinted green. He pitied the enemy that was going to receive that shot. Verona gave him a final quick kiss before running down the stairs.

“So....” Kal trailed off.

“Whenever you think you can hit them.” Anton said. “I'll let loose my magic as well.”

Kal grumbled something, he was sure that she was pouting.

“I feel so weak compared to the two of you. A bow and two daggers...All I have are the weapons that I stole."

He patted her gently on the head, careful to not let the cloth slip.

“Kal, you are one of the strongest and bravest people I know. Never beat yourself up over something like that. I wouldn't want to be fighting you without my magic. I know I would loose against you in an instant."

She turned to face him. Underneath the cloth wrappings he was sure that she was smiling. She shook her head and let out a laugh.

“Okay. Here we go.” She pulled back on the bow and loosed her first arrow.

Anton readied the magic in his mind as the sprawling mass of Orcs and Clansmen came towards them. They roared and swung their weapons over their heads as they readied their ladders. The few siege towers that remained standing were left abandoned. They knew that he could destroy the lumbering contraptions with seeming ease. Perhaps they thought they could nullify that advantage by spreading out and attacking at once. Had they forgotten what he had been able to create the pillars of flame? Or did they think that mages were not capable of launching another attack so soon?

Perhaps they were just ordered to delay them from pursuing the main force.

The twang of Kal's second arrow being refocused him back to reality. It sailed through the air and struck an Orc in the face, the lumbering Orc slumping down and quickly trampled into paste by those coming after him.

“Shame they didn't hear him scream.” Anton mumbled offhandedly, forming a few small lightning magic rings in his mind. He received a quick glance from Kal, her posture quite defensive and annoyed, before readying another arrow.

As he readied to throw his magic forward he heard more twangs of arrows and bolts being fired from the Maxill soldiers. More Orcs and Clansmen fell to the ground. Now they screamed in pain before being trampled, though not as much if one had been struck with the poison. The defenders ranged forces had hidden themselves well amongst the broken sections of the wall. None of the charging enemy seemed to know where the attack were coming from and could not direct their shields to block.

Anton stopped admiring the defenders and released the magic over where the enemy would be in a few seconds, almost a third of the distance between the forest and the city walls. This time he had not tethered the magic but he had made four to compensate. Making that many seperate rings took some concentration but used considerably less mana. He wanted to make sure that he had some mana left over. Just in case.

Also a good time to show them that I am more capable than just fire magic. That could also help the Duchess too...A extremely powerful and versatile mage in her employ that nobody's heard or seen before. It would get me talking about her, at the very least.

The air rumbled and crackled above the enemy, lightning erupting in the air in a twisting and writhing circle of purple lightning. They did not stop to gaze and wonder at the sight and continued to charge. Hundreds of pinpoints of blueish-purple light grew within the lightning rings, no more than twenty points in each ring.

Kal loosed another arrow, glancing at him, then back to the lightning. There was no doubt in her mind as to who created it. Though she had yet to see what it could do.

“Kal, you might want to cover your ears for this next bit.” he said. Kal immediately followed his words.

Murmurs of surprise and confusion came from the soldiers on the wall. Thankfully, their training had not failed them as they continued to fire their bows.

Kal breathed in to speak as the first points of light pulsed bright, then collapsed. Hundreds of lightning bolts erupted from the former points and arced towards the Orcs and Clansmen. With the crack of the lightning they glanced up as they were struck in the head, quickly consumed by the bolt of light. He saw an Orc struck in the head, it's stunned and stupefied face illuminated by the lightning, before exploding in a mass of blood, bone and brains.

Each lightning bolt found it's target, showering everyone with parts of their dead comrades. Seeing this they looked up and saw the sheer number of lightning rings and pulsing points over their heads.

Their offensive descended into chaos as the lightning bolts and arrows continued to rain on them. A brave few continued their charge towards the wall but most started to run back to the relative safety of the burning forest.

The few that continued, only a few hundred of the original thousands, soon found themselves alone and peppered with arrows. Yet they continued. Anton let loose a few lightning bolts as the archers continued to fire. Kal had gotten quite a few as they made their final charge though he was not quite sure how many. Nearly twenty at the very least. He was extremely impressed at her marksmanship.

Two hundred Orcs, and only a few Clansmen, crashed into the lowest and most damaged section of the wall. Quite a few soldiers had waited there for this exact scenario. The wooden ladders fell onto the wooden splintered wall, the Orcs making a desperate climb. Their sides were exposed as archers continued to fire at them. Even they soon realised how hopeless the struggle was.

As the few Orcs, arrows sticking from their sides, made it to the top they were greeted by a dozen swords and spears. The run, magic, arrow assault and climb had taken its toll. They had no energy left to fight.

One Orc lunged at a Maxill soldier, only to receive a blood crystal shard to the face. Anton looked over and saw Verona holding out her hand towards the Orc. He saw the wild look on her face and the looks of terror and shock on those around her. They kept their distance but did not point their weapons at her.

How many Blood Berserker’s could you actually seen in your lives?...That clansmen sounded like he had fought some before. I'm sure that the stories of such potentially terrifying people would spread really fast.

Half a minute later every attacker was either dead or captured. No clansmen had been caught alive but four Orcs were now in their custody. Anton looked back out over the grasslands. Hundreds upon hundreds of dead bodies, charred and damaged beyond recognition, were strewn across it. The fire in the forest had finally began to subside, though this was releasing even more smoke than before. A gentle breeze from the west kept the smoke from smothering Maxill. For that he was grateful.

Though that did give him another thought about his powers.

I haven't tried out to see if a smoke version of the fire magic is possible. Could something else be done with lightning...Maybe. It might be able to magnetise something, though it would be easier for me to just blast something to death. I'll need to find another lightning magician to talk that with.

“They aren't coming back.” Kal said loudly. “They trying to head north through the forest.”

She pointed north of where they came through. Through the haze of the smoke and the forest he could just make out movement heading towards the north. Quite a few had survived, perhaps a little under half, and were running as fast as they could. Some were on horseback and were not waiting for the rest. One was leading the charge, an Orc in bright yellow, orange and blue clothing. He was definately some sort of leader. None looked like him.

“Could they be heading to join the others?” Kal said offhandedly. “It looks like they are.”

Their forces continued north and began to slowly turn west, towards the other barely visible stream of soldiers. He wondered what the mood of their forces would be when they found that they were so resolutely defeated.

“How many did you think we managed to get?” Anton tried to count the dead bodies but it was quite hard.

Kal was silent, leaning against the wall.

“A few hundred....” she looked down at her bow, letting out a sigh. “Far more than I can.”

“Don't talk like that.” Anton held her gently by the shoulder.

She did not try and flinch away as her clothed face looked right at him. He leaned in close so nobody else could hear.

“Besides. I don't think any human here could have done it quite as well as you.” he whispered to her. "Nobody."

Kal squeaked, patting down her tail and her ears that were desperately trying to escape their confines. It was so cute to see her so flustered. Anton could not help but smile, which only seemed to increase her embarrassment. She had to fight harder to keep herself from bursting free. Finally she let out a grunt, turning her head away in a pout.

“You said that on purpose.” she said quietly. “Complimented me just to see me do that.”

“Perhaps.” Anton shrugged, patting her on the head to which she let out another squeak of delight. “But I meant every word.”

Kal groaned again and turned away from him. He could see the base of her tail moving underneath her cloak. She turned back, holding both her hands behind her as she kicked at the wooden floor.

“Well....Maybe. But I don't think the Duchess will be rewarding us for just standing up here.”

“Right.” Anton waved Kal towards the stairs. “Let's go see what we need to do next.”

As they started down the wooden staircase Anton brought them to a halt. Kal cocked her head in response.

“What's wrong?”

“Are you alright fighting for a human kingdom?”

Kal breathed deeply before she answered.

“Honestly...No. I don't like working with these humans. Mainly because they'll hurt me if they see who I am. And just about everything they say, says that I should be killed for existing. But...” She gripped tightly on her bow. “I made a promise to you. That if you would see my mother and other Beast-kin free, which you seem to be truly working towards, that I would follow you forever."

She let out a sigh.

“We might actually be heading that way if it weren't for these Clansmen and Orcs...So, I will follow you no matter what.”

Anton smiled, turning down the stairs. “Thank you Kal. I just wanted to check.”

Kal gave a little chuckle as she nodded, following him closely behind.

The soldiers cheered as they emerged, even those that had not seen the magical destruction. Those on the walls were the most joyous. Cheer after cheer was let out as they passed through. All joyous that they survived.

Verona made her way through a gap in the crowd. The soldiers regarded her with no small amount of fear and respect and parted quickly. Being a Blood Berserker was certainly no small thing.

“That was fun.” Verona said loudly, the cries of victory starting to die down.

“You feeling okay?” he asked.

Verona took a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I only had to fight one Orcnot that that was much of a fight. I feel fine.”

She turned to Kal. “How about you?”

Kal shrugged.  “Okay. They didn't have any bows with them, which is a little strange, but I did manage to hit about twenty Orcs and a few Clansmen.”

Verona whistled. “More than I did.”

“Well done, Anton.” he turned and saw Duchess Belinda, with Alfred and Hemiskr in tow, arriving at the gathering of soldiers. They immediately parted as they saw who it was, letting them get to Anton.

“I did not expect you to have that much power.” Belinda said, a hint of awe and respect in her voice as she eyed him over. Like he was on display to be bought. “Or that you could do something like that so soon after the burning down my forest.”

“Were you watching?” Anton asked.

Belinda nodded towards one of the taller buildings nearby. If one was one to stand on top of the roof it would be possible to see over the wall.

“That was very satisfying to watch. To see those Orcs and Clansmen getting hit by that lightning.” She let out a warm sigh, along with a smile as she looked at the dead Orcs sprawled over the wall.

“I'm glad to hear it.” Anton replied.

“Amazing that you could keep control of yourself.” Alfred said to Verona, who shrugged and smiled. “The Blood Berserker’s I've seen would have just lept forward and straight into the enemy.”

“We had to tell the men to watch out for that.” Hemiskr added.

“Do they normally behave like that?” Anton asked, Alfred nodding.

“Well...I'm not like that.” Verona said smugly, twirling her spear in her hands. “I can keep myself under control.”

I sure hope so. No. I know you can.

“So, what's happening now?” Anton asked.

“What's-” Alfred began.

“The survivors are heading to join the main group.” Kal interrupted him, holding her ground when she attracted their gaze. “The smoke is too thick in the forest. They'll choke to death if they stay there.”

“You don't think there will be any more attacks here?” Alfred asked.

Kal gave a very light and non-committal shrug. “I can't say if they have other forces hidden in the forest but I don't think they'll be able to attack Maxill again. Not with what they've just seen. They'll be in chaos as they try to understand what happened to them.”

The soldiers listening cried out in victory yet again. They thought they were safe. For now at least. Belinda smiled at Kal, but a frown slowly drew on her face.

“How many are heading towards the border forts?” She asked Kal.

“Everyone that wasn't killed. Fifty, fifty five thousand soldiers.”

The cries of victory quickly died down. Nearly fifty five thousand soldiers were about to attack a potentially unaware force. The rest of the Kingdom might fall if they did not do something to help. A grim resolution formed on the soldiers face's. They would be fighting again if they were to save their kingdom.

“That's still too many for the forts to fight off if there's another attack from the north.” Alfred lamented. “Doubly so if they attack the supporting cities."

“Anton.” Belinda turned to him. “As part of our unwritten contract, I ask you to accompany a force to defeat the Orc and Clansmen before they can destroy our defences.”

“What?” Hemiskr asked.

Belinda's face was flat as she looked at him.

“You and Alfred will be leading as many soldiers we can spare, as well as all of the mercenaries, and march on the enemy. Destroy them. Completely and utterly.”

“We could spare two and a half thousand of our total force here.” Alfred spoke softly to Belinda. “But that would leave the weakest and poorly trained to defend Maxill if there's any further attacks.”

She took this information seriously, and was silent for some time.

“I trust Kal's assessment of the situation. I think they've abandoned their attack on Maxill. They won't be coming back, and if they did they would run into two very powerful mages and an expert archer. I'm sure that they could crush us...but they would loose so many that they couldn't complete their invasion.”

She smiled at all three of them. “So, Anton, will you join us?”

He glance at Verona and Kal, receiving nods from both. “Yes. We will help in whatever way we can.”

An honest smile graced her face.

“I am glad to hear that.” she turned to Alfred and Hemiskr. “Assemble every soldier you deem acceptable to march immediately and have them gather at the northern gate. Take whatever you need in supplies and weapons. Don't be cheap with anything that we might need. Don't fail me, Alfred. Please...”

Alfred smiled and gave a bow, everyone gasping when she returned the bow. He was utterly stunned until Belinda coughed lightly. Alfred and Hemiskr both gave a salute before everyone exploded in a flurry of movement. Belinda remained stationary and looked at Anton, unfettered by the shouting and bustling surrounding her.

“I heard that we actually managed to capture some Orcs. That's something very rare.” she began. “While Alfred and Hemiskr assemble the soldiers, can you perform an interrogation on them?”

“Why me?”

Belinda shrugged. “You're available for some time, since you're not organising the soldiers. And they will know how they are dealing with.”

A slight smirk drew up from her lips. “And you are also in my employ.”

“Not yet we're not.” Verona said back, taking a step forward and infront of Anton, a deep frown on her face.

Belinda chuckled. “Not yet. Not yet. But, I think they might have some useful information.”

Anton shrugged. “I guess so.”

---[]---

Anton scratched the back of his head as he walked away from the fourth Orc. Despite their size and intimidating stature,they folded nearly instantly when they realised that he was the one that unleashed the lightning and fire magic upon their army. His brief encounter with Lazgar, and the remains of the Black Fist clan, did not give him the impression that they would fold this easily. Verona also added to the speed of their collapse. Briefly showing off that she was a powerful Blood Berserker had  broken any lingering hint of defiance.

Duchess Belinda stood some paces away, looking disinterested in the proceedings as she watched the soldiers running towards the north of Maxill.

“Did you find anything out?” she asked. She started picking at a few flecks of dirt on her gloves.

Anton shrugged as he made his way to her. A wave of relief washing over the bound Orcs faces as he left. Both Verona and Kal followed him closely.

“Not anything about their campaign that we couldn't have been able to figure out before.” he said. “They were going to take out Maxill so any reinforcements from the south would not have anywhere to base themselves. Also to resupply with everything they could steal from you. Sounds like there aren't many larger cities to the north of here.”

Belinda nodded. “Not in the far north east. There are quite a few small villages and hamlets, nothing as large as Maxill. It's heartening to know that they don't have enough resources for their campaign. Our hunters are doing a fantastic job then.”

“It might make them desperate. Although.” he continued, catching a glance from Belinda. “They did say something interesting about how well the two forces are working together.”

“Interesting. How so?”

“Very badly, it seems.” Anton replied, looking back to the Orcs. They caught his eye and immediately looked away, not caring how obvious it was.

“The Orcs are being led by an Orc called Zig. He seems to be the son of the new leader of the unified Orc clans. It seems that they and the Clansmen disagree on how the war should be fought. The Orcs seem to want to pillage and burn their way through while the Clansmen want to head straight for the Border Forts. Zig was commanding the assault on Maxill and wanted all the spoils. It seemed he didn't follow the advice of the Clansmen leader and commit all his forces...That would have killed you before we arrived.”

He smiled as he looked back at the Orcs.

“It seems that he was one of the Orcs that was running away to the north on horseback. The brightly coloured one.”

“What about the leader of the Clansmen?”

“Didn't say much about him. But he certainly won't be happy to find out what has just happened and that he didn't leave a force to keep us bogged down. Now we're free to attack.”

“So now we can head straight after them?” Belinda asked lightly.

Anton nodded. “I'm not a real military man but I would think they are going to continue with their mission, and we should do what we can to stop them.”

“Well...I suppose that is good news.” she continued. “Knowing that our enemy is openly hostile to one another.”

She looked at the Orcs with utter disdain. “Anyway, can we use this?”

“Perhaps. If we can irritate the two leaders to such a point where they begin to actively blame and undermine each other, then that could be good for us. How, I don't know.”

Belinda smiled and nodded, waving over a few soldiers. "That's very good to hear.” she pointed to the Orcs. “Kill them.”

Before Anton could say anything the men lunged forward and stabbed the Orcs in the throat. They did not take their deaths willingly, thrashing and begging in their gruff voice in the few moments they had. He looked confusingly at Belinda, who only shrugged in return.

“Orcs do not ransom their soldiers back. Anything they would pay is of little worth compared to the damage they've already done. They intend to destroy us so there's no bad feelings on our part." Belinda shook her head. "And we could not even sell them to Seocuria for a profit.”

Anton heard Kal's hands grip tightly on the hilts of her daggers at the mere mention of that place.

“I'm not going to keep something that large as a prisoner indefinitely.”

“I suppose...” Anton trailed off.

He was not sure about killing prisoners that had been captured, but this was a war. A war where he did not have to worry about logistics, resources, manpower or political ramifications of keeping the Orcs alive for ransom. He decided to let it go.

Belinda began walking away and to the north without emitting a sound. He was expected to follow.

“Alfred and Hemiskr should have finished by now.” she said, not waiting to see if they actually followed. “We'll give as much food as we can spare for the chase. I can't imagine that it'll be too long, not with someone of your magical strength.”

“I hope not. I've heard that you are a mage yourself.” Anton said as he walked alongside her.

A twitch formed on her face.

“Well, that's not much of a secret. I do know how how use some basic fire magic. Nothing compared to what the court mages can do. Or you. Mainly I just use it to show off that I am one of the few in the Qaiviel Kingdom that can actually use magic.” She flashed him a warm smile. “I did ask you to show off your magic without...When you get back...I'll show you mine."

Anton gave a light nod in return, feeling a very hard pinch on his side. He did not need to guess to whom it belonged to.

“My lord.” came a voice from behind. “Your horses.”

Two soldiers quickly came up from behind with their horses in tow. They seemed nervous as they handled their horses very gingerly. They caught the eye of Belinda and shied away.

“Thank you.” Anton gave a nod to the soldiers as he took the reins.

They seemed quite surprised at his respectful attitude, returning the bow before running off. Belinda gave a light huff as continued to walk towards the north. Anton handed the reins of the second horse to Verona and followed closely. The rest of the journey they made in silence, with only the shouts of disorganised soldiers to fill the void. Soldiers ran about carrying sets of armour and even some sort of javelins. Everything was being brought out for this offensive.

The north of Maxill looked the same as the western entrance, barring the signs of destruction. There was very little room for the two thousand soldiers on the streets so they had to squeeze in where they could. Even then they spilled out for some distance but remained quite eager for what they were about to do. Despite what they knew was coming, a battle against a massively numerically superior foe, they were in high spirits. Perhaps due to the knowledge that they were not going to be facing this army head on, though that was a possibility if the Clansmen and Orcs decided to turn around.

Anton, Verona and Kal mounted their horses and remained at the side of the force. A detachment of horses, nearly two hundred, moved through the tightly bunched horses and settled next to Anton. Each were heavily armoured and draped in the colours of the Qaiviel Kingdom. It seemed that none of the mercenaries were on horse back. At the front of the rode Alfred and Hemiskr. They both wore a full set of white and green iron armour, far better than what the others had.

“I take it you three don't need armour?” Alfred asked, bringing his horse next to Anton and opposite Verona and Kal's.

“I've got some.” Verona peered her head around. She pointed to the thick armour on her arms and chest.

“That's a good start.” Hemiskr took a quick glance. “But it leaves a lot of open spaces where you can get hit.”

Verona shrugged. “I trust the armour that I was given...Are you offering more?”

“Yes.” Alfred replied. “Mages tend to get torn to pieces by arrows, javelins or well placed spear. Their chances of survival would be so much higher if they bothered to wear some leather armour.”

“Have you seen many?” Anton asked. If he was completely honest he did feel a little vulnerable in just his villager clothes. However his magical power always compensated for that. Now was a chance to get a decent set for free, perhaps even spares once the campaign was done.

“A few. There once was this Ice Mage, very powerful, but got hit with an arrow in the chest. A good set of armour might have stopped it from being fatal. Bloody fool.” Alfred shook his head. “It doesn't interfere with their magic either.”

“I think we'll take some light armour.” Anton said, Verona nodding. “Something that doesn't slow us down. We'll be needing to move quickly. And our magic should keep us safe.”

“What about you Kal?” Verona asked, turning to look at Kal.

“I need to be as light and nimble as possible.” Kal said quietly. “But, I'll take a set if there's one available. It's...It's been ages since I've had some.”

Alfred waved over a mercenary and whispered in his ear. The dull coloured mercenary quickly ran off into the crowd. He returned with sets of leather armour, passing the pieces to Alfred.

“Here you go.” he said. “Consider it a gift as part of your contract.”

The armour was in pretty good condition, a few scuffs and marks from age but otherwise a fine set. It took a bit of time to get it on properly. Verona had to help him, receiving a giggle of embaressment in response to his difficulty. He now started to better appreciated how tricky it was to do it by herself. Even Alfred had to help.

When he was finished he looked like a militia soldier rather than just a peasant. He had a hardened leather chest piece, leather and iron reinforced helm, arm and shoulder sets. He appreciated how good it fitted and the sense of protection it gave him. Verona added the few extra pieces to her current set and was now even more armoured than before. Kal had no trouble fixing a complete set, her hidden Beast-kin fingers were incredibly nimble and quickly fastened it to herself. She looked quite good with the armour on top of her cloth wrappings.

It was basic, but it would save them from a rogue hit.

“We look like soldiers now.” Verona mumbled, Kal hummed in agreement.

“On another note." Anton began. "Why-”

Anton's words were halted by a loud trumpet coming from the gate. Duchess Belinda stood to the side of the gate on a large platform, a Qaiviel soldier at her side wielding the trumpet.

“Why aren't you up there?” Anton asked Alfred.

Alfred shrugged. “She needs to be able to do these sort of things completely by herself. Especially if she wishes to rule an even larger territory.”

Anton hummed. He could see something like pride in his face, like a father letting their child out on their own for the first time. Pride, but also a hint of worry.

Perhaps he's worried since he protected and inadvertently helped to make her into the person she was before. Though, she has seemed to change for the better under your steward, once pushed in the right direction. Perhaps it's a bit too much loyalty, not that many could claim to have a person as loyal as you.

Belinda straightened herself up and looked out across the waiting soldiers.

“Soldiers of Qaiviel.” her voice was loud, every syllable full of authority. “I will be brief. Today you will be taking the fight to the Orcs and Clansmen that seek to destroy our lands, our way of life, and your very lives.”

Everyone remained still, in complete silence and soaking up her words.

“I ask that every one of you to fight with every part of your body and soul, and to make sure that you return alive.” A thin smile formed on her face. “May the Holy Father grant you victory.”

Belinda bowed deeply before walking down from the platform. The Qaiviel soldiers were filled with a sense of pride while the mercenaries kept a blank face. Speeches did not pay in gold or fill their pockets.

“Open the gate!” Hemiskr yelled. The gate slowly started to groan open.

Slowly the force began to pass through the gate. Belinda stopped them as they came close.

“I hope to see you all soon.” she said. “Be safe.”

“We will.” Alfred bowed as deeply as he could. Belinda let out an honest smile and took a step back, letting them continue.

Hemiskr and Alfred moved around the force and rode at the front of the departing army as soon as they were through, waving for Anton, Verona and Kal to join them. Together they rode out of Maxill to begin the chase.

---[]---

Late in the afternoon they had already begun to catch up with the remains of the Maxill attack force. These Orcs struggled to catch up with the main force. Unfortunately they caught up to them after they had already moved through a small hamlet.

Anton felt his stomach turn as he looked at what little remained. The hamlet was only a fraction the size of Atros, a dozen or so buildings, some of which were built into the ground to save on wood for building materials. A few large plots of grains and pens for animals surrounded the hamlet.

Everything was broken and on fire.

Sixty Orcs rummaged dispassionately through the desolate remains. They would pick something up, shake it, then toss it aside. Every so often it was a dead body. From what little Anton could see they had died brutally and horribly.

“Bastards.” Hemiskr grumbled, holding back his anger as he looked back at the Maxill soldiers.

The moment the Qaiviel soldiers saw the devastation their tired hearts and bodies were instantly refreshed. Both Hemiskr and Alfred were hissing orders at them to keep them in formation. The mercenaries looked on indifferently but retained their formations. Their commanders did not need to fight to keep order.

These Maxill soldiers seem like a very well armed, and angry, mob, rather than a group of soldiers. Though, they have been through a lot. Perhaps the Knights will be different.

Anton looked towards the small hamlet. Some of the Orcs had seen them and were trying to rouse the rest.

“What's this place's name?” he asked.

Alfred brought his horse infront of Anton. “It doesn't have one. There are barely ten families here.”

A bitter smile formed on his face as he looked towards the small hamlet.

“Less now.”

“Do we attack?” Verona asked. She looked like she was just as eager to fight as the Maxill soldiers.

“Kal? Do you see the rest of the army?”

Kal raised her hand to shield her eyes from view, and removed the cloth just enough to clear her eyes. A second later she readjusted it back.

“I cannot see anyone.” she looked towards Anton. “It looks like they've continued and left these behind. I don't see anyone towards the horizon.”

"Why are they here?" Anton asked aloud.

"To slow us down." Alfred replied. "So that we take time to clear out this hamlet."

"Shame."

“Kal.” Alfred turned to her. “After we've secured the hamlet, can you scout ahead and see what you find?” His elderly face softened. “You seem to be the best tracker here...Even better than my hunters.”

Kal refused to answer, keeping her face steady with Alfred. She looked to Anton, who nodded, and Kal agreed. Alfred chuckled and turned towards the village.

“We heard there were meant to be some hunters through the forest.” Anton said to Alfred. “But we didn't see any. Were they there?”

Alfred shrugged. “They were told to attack Orcs and Clansmen.” He looked all three of them over. “And you don't look like them. Either that, or they're dead. Hemiskr?”

“Yes, Alfred?”

“Send some soldiers and retake the hamlet. Around two hundred should be more than sufficient, bring archers with you. Also include some of the mercenaries to back them up in case they run into trouble with the Orcs.”

“What about us?” Verona asked, leaning forward.

“We will be advancing behind them in case there are more enemies than we expected.”

“We're just going to leave them to fight by themselves?” she asked again. “We have magic you know?”

“Most of these soldiers have not seem true combat before. They've been behind the safety of a wall while it was pelted with rocks. If we rely completely on Anton, Verona....and Kal to fight they will not be even lightly blooded when we have to fight hundreds or thousands of Orcs and Clansmen. Better to get it over with now when they're fighting a small group rather than an army.”

“I'm not sure that's how it works.” Anton mumbled.

“Have you ever had to fight someone with a sword?” Alfred asked angrily, “Only a thin piece of iron between you and someone that wants you dead? Their breath and spit on your face as they hack at you with every ounce of  their strength? A single mistake costing your life?”

Anton paused. He was sure he had not, but he knew that parts of his memories were blanks and scored out. He kept his mouth shut as it was not something that he could answer. Or even should.

“I don't think so.” Anton replied.

Alfred's face scrunched up in a form of controlled anger.

“It's very easy for someone that can use terrifying magical powers to think that it's easy to fight for someone like me, or anyone else here. I have been in more battles than you can imagine. In the best and worst conditions. Against things that you could never even imagine. And the last thing you want, for your first fight, is to be going against thousands of screaming Orcs and Clansmen. Better to let them feel combat now.”

Anton nodded.

I could ask about what sort of monsters and beasts there are, he sounds like he knows what he's talking about. Right now though it feels the same with Kal and when we were talking about slavery. If I try any 'smart' quip...

After his nod he lowered his head. That was enough for Alfred to take it as an apology. A sigh escaped him.

“Whatever. Hemiskr?” he asked again.

“Ready for your order.”

Alfred gave him a quick nod. Hemiskr raised his sword, pointed towards the hamlet and cried out. With Hemiskr at the lead two hundred soldiers and thirty mercenaries followed behind him as they advanced. The ground shook as the armoured soldiers raced past, roaring battle cries with every step. If the enemy did not know they were coming, they certainly would now. Everyone else followed closely behind, setting a brisk pace. Those at the front kept their shields raised and formed a shield wall as they advanced.

The Orcs that had seen them had roused the others to fight. Unlike the human soldiers they did not form a cohesive line. Each pushed the other away, like they were going to fight as an individual.

“Against a wall of spears, shields and swords...” Anton mumbled aloud. “Why aren't they running?”

“Look at them.” Kal replied, he saw Alfred nod as well.

They were tired, breathing heavily and trying their best to keep their weapons raised. Many were injured in some way. Quite badly enough that they had trouble standing upright. They were shattered.

“How hard did they march?”

“Too hard.” Alfred answered. “That and the magic they saw...”

“See if we can capture any and what they have to say.” Anton spoke offhandedly.

Hemiskr brought his horse back down to a trot as the soldiers neared the Orcs. The Orcs had not retreated further into the hamlet, for cover from the burning and smouldering buildings, but where waiting outside. None of the buildings looked like they could hide more Orcs or Clansmen anyway. At least a surprise attack seemed rather unlikely.

Archers moved forward and loosed a volley arrows at the Orcs. Their shields caught some, but not all. Arrows stuck out of the strangely positioned gaps in their armour. Blood spattered over the charred ground. A few Orcs fell, only serving to enrage the others. They let out a mighty roar and charged.

Hemiskr retreated behind the safety of the soldiers who readied their shields. These were large shields, more than just the round personal shields that most soldiers carried. These were nearly the full length of the person. Just like those that they had found in Mount Aspire. These could easily cover most of a body. Lining up behind them spearmen and archers took their position, the spears lowering through the gaps of the shields and forming a wall of blades. Another volley of arrows streamed at the Orcs, felling a few more, but they continued their charge. They smashed into the wall of shields, some already skewered by the spears, and screams errupted. More spears and swords burst out from the shield wall.

A few seconds of shouts and screams and the Orcs were dead. Anton was a little surprised at how quickly it happened. Even the soldiers seemed just as surprised. They cried out in victory, thrusting their weapons into the air.

“That was quick.” Verona said, Kal nodding from behind.

“They acted like it was going to be a duel between two people.” Anton said aloud. “Not against a unified force.”

“Check the hamlet.” Alfred shouted towards Hemiskr. “See if there's anyone still alive in there. They might have something we can learn.”

Hemiskr turned to the soldiers and waved them forward. They broke into small groups and spread out through the ruined hamlet. Each of the houses and buildings were kicked in and searched thoroughly. The soldiers exited with grim faces, the only response was a shake of the head.

“Nothing.” Hemiskr said as they entered the Hamlet. “Nothing alive, at least.”

Most of the soldiers spread out around the Hamlet, Alfred quickly ordering them to search the surrounds for Orc or human survivors. Those seemed glad to be away from the sights and smells of the Hamlet.

All Anton could smell at first was the burnt wood. An undercurrent of blood and faeces wafted through to his senses a few breaths later. Then burnt meat.

Anton looked at one of the houses, now burnt to the ground. It was more of a shanty rather than one of the wooden buildings of Atros. Before it had been burnt he was sure that it was made from whatever pieces of wood they could find and built haphazardly. These people, despite their destitution, still tried the best they could to make a go of it. Until the Orcs and Clansmen moved through.

Another soldier came out, caught Anton's eye, and looked away. He moved a few steps towards it and saw the dead and burnt people inside. Five charred bodies, some very small, were huddling together in the center. They had been locked inside while the building had torched.

“Terrible.” Kal mumbled as she came next to him.

He could not disagree.

“Nobody survived?” Anton looked around for somewhere somebody could hide, like a forest or even a hole, but he could see nothing. Some could have ran and lied down in the grass. But not with several thousand Orcs moving through.

“None.” Hemiskr said. “There would have been about forty or fifty people here. We've found the bodies of those that tried to run. They didn't get far.”

Anton shook his head.

“We shouldn't delay.” Alfred said, motioning for the soldiers to keep moving. “Kal, could you and Verona go forward and see if you can find where they're going.”

“Okay.” Verona and Kal rode forth.

“Do you bury the dead?” Anton asked.

Hemiskr shrugged. “The teachings of the Holy Father says they should be buried with their families. But...” he sighed. “They'll just have to do with a shallow grave. I hope they can understand.”

He waved some soldiers over and detailed what he wanted done with the bodies. “It's all we can do for them now.”

---[]---

They passed through another two small ruined hamlets before they caught up to the remains of the Maxill attackers just as it was starting to turn dark. Each small hamlet only had a few Orcs in each, quickly dispatched by the Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries. Anton noted that they were being slowed down considerably each time. Part of him was glad they had caught with them. Verona and Kal remained at the front of the force, Kal relaying back that they were closing in on the attackers. Alfred and Hemiskr kept the soldiers marching at a brisk pace but never tried to push them beyond their limits. It seemed the Orc Commander was doing just that. If he was actually leading them anymore. They had not captured anyone so far.

Instead of a hamlet they came across a large village, about half the size of Atros. What was surprising was that the village was still being in the process of being looted. Anton counted three to four hundred Orcs moving about the burning village.

To the east of the village of was an extension of the forest between their Qaiviel and the former Kar Kingdom, to the west lay a small pond surrounded by thick rushes. The water was red with blood and bodies lay still and lifeless on the shoreline. Occasionally they would chase out a villager before decapitating them, laughing all the while. Theses were not the Black Fist Orcs that he had met before at the lake. These were the dregs of society, given a weapon and cause, and now unleashing their rage and anger on whatever they were pointed at.

Again the Orcs, upon seeing them approaching, stopped their carnage and formed a vague line. Anton could see the anger and confusion on their faces. At least they were not able to get a message out from the previous hamlets.

“Why isn't it burned to ground yet?” Anton asked aloud.

The soldiers marched around the leaders and continued towards the village. Hemiskr led them from the front. Nearly all of the soldiers and mercenaries were involve in this attack. Any hint of hesitation had been washed away by the scenes of carnage. Already they were more determined and ordered.

Alfred remained nearby, while Verona and Kal remained close as well. Kal was doing very well surrounded by so many potentially dangerous and violent humans. He was wondering how she would handle dinner and sleeping.

“They have only just started.” Alfred answered, nodding towards the burning buildings.

The wood was not burned black yet despite the intense flames.

They might have only just started to loot and burn. What about the Clansmen and Or, army that came through before? A difference of opinion of the leaders to just leave it behind intact? But not anymore it seems.

“The Clansmen army would have already passed through here, but they didn't burn it.” Anton hummed. “There's certainly interesting.”

“Do you want our help for this next part?” Verona asked. “There are quite a few of them this time.” She chuckled, brining her horse closer to his. “We've just been standing back for the most part.”

Alfred shook his head. “You'll be needed when we come up on the main force. We've only fought about three hundred Orcs so far.” An honest smile formed on his face. “And with no losses so far.”

Anton looked at the Orcs, forming up infront of the village. Again they forced some distance between each other. Very little about them spoke that they would, or even could, work as a cohesive force. Though there were far more of them this time than before. Their numbers alone would compensate somewhat for their lack of cooperation.

“That might not be the case in this battle.”

“True.”

“Make sure that anyone that's wounded is rotated out.” Anton said, getting an odd look from Alfred. “I can heal someone that's wounded, but I can't bring them back from the dead.”

Alfred sighed. “Of course you can heal them. That....That's...You don't know anything about The Holy Father, do you?”

Anton hesitated before shaking his head.

“Well, you wouldn't know about their healers.” Alfred continued. “So...that means you are a follower of Tethra, the old goddess of prayer.”

“Indeed.” Anton replied flatly.

Alfred smiled. “That's good. Something that can actually work.” He voice started grinding at the end.

“What are those healers like?”

Alfred smiled bitterly, looking down at his legs.

“They're the reason that I can walk, but it took many winters before I could do it properly. If they had that power...”

Anton held his hand out and touched Alfred's shoulder, chanting a light healing prayer in his head. The magic left him and his Alfred's eyes softened. He flexed his feet and knees, letting out a chuckle, slowly shaking his head.

“It seems, in this case, the old ways were better.” A frown formed on his face. “I wouldn't do that to anyone that's devout. They won't take kindly to it.”

Anton looked towards the village. The soldiers were forming up, a few arrows flying forward.

“Is Hemiskr a devout man?”

Alfred shrugged. “I don't think so. But better be safe. At the moment they might just think you're just hiding your charm somewhere, but do be careful.”

“Right, Thanks.” Anton said.

He had no idea of what a 'charm' was. Belinda had mentioned it when they first met but had not elaborated on it. He presumed it was something that allowed a normal person to use magic, like a amulet or staff.

“What about me?” Verona asked. “I don't think that my powers are...”

Alfred smiled. “They aren't. But very few people would be stupid enough to confront one openly.”

“A clansmen did.” Verona mumbled. “Said he had fought Blood Berserker’s before.”

“He probably did. In such a brutal society like theirs, there's going to be a greater chance for the more violent old magics to come through. Doesn't mean they were strong.”

Verona opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it. Her magic couldn't be described as anything other than brutal.

The Orcs let out a terrifying howl, far moreso than anything before, and charged. The sheer volume made the soldiers tremble. Hemiskr shouted to regain order and control. It seemed to work. The Orcs smashed into the shields, after volleys of arrows cut down many, and into the spears and sowrds jutting out. Both sides buckled as they fought a desperate struggle. He saw Hemiskr, still on his horse, direct the more heavily armed mercenaries into the struggling sections.

“Do you want us to attack?” Anton asked.

Alfred shook his head. “If they break and fall here, how will they fare against fifty thousand Orcs and Clansmen? We cannot coddle them forever.”

Some of that emotion seemed to come from deep within. Anton remained quiet and turned back to the battle.

Blood flew from the lines as the Orcs began to fall under the strain of the shields and thrusts of spears and swords. Coordination between the soldiers was winning out. The Orc's mighty axes struck down onto the shields and helms, quickly replied with by a flurry of spears and swords flying out of the gaps in the iron shield wall. Archers fired volleys through the gaps in the shields to the Orcs increasing terror and despair.

Anton could see the fear growing in their faces as they fell in ever increasing numbers. Another shout and charge from the Orcs did them no good as the soldiers weathered their attacks.

A moment later and the battle was over. The Orcs did not last long. They broke and ran, quickly mowed down by a volley of arrows loosed by the angry soldiers. None made it back to the village, the furthest making a few meters away from the burning buildings.

“Why are the Orcs so feared?” Anton asked. “Is it just because we outnumber them right now?”

Alfred nodded.

“We outnumber these Orcs four to one.” he began. “We have formations and ranged weapons. And these Orcs are not that well equipped. Facing the same number of Orcs, charging at you in full armour and screaming at the top of their lungs...That's a terrifying thing.”

“I can imagine.”

Hemiskr rode back to them as the soldiers began to spread out through the village.

“We got them all.” he said proudly. “But, we did loose a few soldiers. I think about eight or nine. Amazing losses that is. They are just as strong as they look. I've sent out some soldiers to scour the surrounds. If the Orcs stripped naked, I'm sure that they could hide in this long grass.”

They chuckled, though Anton knew it was probably in bad form.

“Nevertheless, you held against some terrifying opponents.” Anton added, getting a smile from Hemiskr. “Where are the wounded? I can help them.”

Hemiskr opened his mouth to speak but decided against it.

The wounded were laid out on the ground. Many had crushed limbs and copious amounts of blood leaking from them. Anton took what he believed to be the most wounded and healed them so they could walk and fight. While he could have healed them completely he doubted whether he had enough mana to do so for all of them. He also only had four and a half of the Karak fruit with him and he doubted that anyone in their army would have any more. Out in these villages and hamlets, in the wilds of this Kingdom, it was doubtful that there would be any more.

Verona and Kal stood close by, making sure that nobody got too close. A quick flash of red from Verona was more than enough to keep everyone at bay. Anton carried on with his work in silence, taking the desperate thanks of the saved with every soldier he brought back from the brink.

---[]---

The light was beginning to fade completely by the time Anton had finished healing the soldiers. There were far less wounded than he imagined. He let out a sigh as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

A full set of iron armour and weapons would do that. Keep you alive when an axe would have ripped you apart. Everyone should have some sort of armour when they go into battle...

Anton stood up from healing the last soldier that was critically wounded.

Most of the villagers that died in Atros with the final battle with the Yellow Goblins were the ones without the most basic armour. If the fought us now we might even be able to get away with it completely. I wonder how they would feel about that?

Alfred had announced they would stay in the destroyed village for the night. He had no intention on marching further. Tiredness and fears of an ambush weighed heavily on his mind. Anton agreed with those but wondered why he was not allowed to use his magic yet. He guessed that they did not want to reveal such a powerful hand.

Verona and Kal walked silently with him as they headed towards Alfred and Hemiskr. They had taken position near a small fire outside a burnt down building, the whole area secured by the mercenaries. Alfred and Hemiskr were taking rapidly amongst themselves. They stopped talking when they saw Anton approach.

“How are they?” Hemiskr asked.

“Those that weren't dead will live on.” he replied, a wave of relief overcoming Hemiskr's face. “They won't be good soldiers for a while, but a few more days of healing and they will be able to fight like the best of them.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Alfred said.

Hemiskr frowned lightly. “I didn't hear any chants when you were healing the men.”

“No.” Anton replied honestly.

“But they're healed.”

“That's right."

Hemiskr looked between the soldiers and Anton. He could see the relief that they were able to walk, one soldier even offered a bow to Anton, one that had almost lost an arm to an axe blow. Hemiskr shrugged, looking over at the soldiers hobbling away.

“They were about to meet the Holy Father...I suppose it doesn't matter. They are alive, and that's what matters.”

Anton smiled, though he made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

“What's-”

Anton was interrupted by a shout from the distance, towards the small pond.

“Sir!” A soldier came running at them.

“What?” Alfred asked loudly.

Any noise from the camp vanished as the man ran towards them.

“We've found something.” he said through panted breaths, stopping a few meters away from them.

All waited in silence for the explanation. The man shook his head to focus himself.

“We've found survivors. Quite a few of them.”

“Orcs or humans?” Alfred asked.

“Humans. They were hiding in the rushes. Seems like they've been there a while.”

“We-”

“Sir!” Alfred was interrupted by another shout, coming from the forest.

“What now?” he grumbled, turning to the newly approaching soldier.

“There are people coming out of the forest. They claim to be the villagers that lived here.”

“Well...That's a surprise.” Alfred said aloud. “I thought the Orcs would have killed them all by now. Bring them here so we can hear their story.”

“Yes Sir!” both soldiers cried out before running off.

“This should be interesting.” Alfred hummed.

---[]---

There were many more survivors than Anton had expected. Well over three hundred, tired and ragged, Qaiviel villagers were now sitting infront of them. They stared at their former village with tired and sunken eyes, they barely had the energy to stand. Thankfully Alfred and Hemiskr let them sit.

Verona and Kal said they would be going to sleep. Terrified villagers did not need a Blood Berseker or a mummified archer to terrify the survivors so they excused themselves. They didn't want to be tired for any battle either. Anton told them he would be joining them shortly. He wanted to see what the villagers had to say for themselves.

“How did you survive?” Alfred asked the villagers.

He did not direct his questions at anyone in particular. Anton could not make out anyone that seemed to be a leader. Alfred asked again, finally eliciting a response from the villagers.

“We hid, my lord.” one villager at the front answered.

Alfred's face softened.

“I did not think the Duchess would send so many people to save us.” the villager spoke far more softly, binding his hands in prayer. Many of the other villagers did so as well.

Alfred hesitated before speaking. “What happened here?”

The villager wiped away a sniffle. “An army, Deweth Clansmen and some Orcs came through. We thought that we would be killed, but they left us alone. I...I...I don't understand why, but they did.”

“They didn't do this?” Alfred looked to the still lightly smouldering village.

“No. That came later.” he looked around at his fellow villagers. None had the will to speak. Most were quietly sobbing. “A smaller group, only Orcs, came later. They were tired and angry. There was one infront, he looked a little different to the others. Bright clothes like the sun. He was angry. Very angry. And told the Orcs to kill everyone.”

“I think that's cleared up.” Alfred spoke with the softest voice he could muster. “But, how did you survive?”

The villager began to cry, nearly uncontrollably.

“I was a coward.” he said through powerful sobs. “When the Orcs battered down our doors, I ran through a window, leaving my wife and children to die. I didn't think...I just ran.”

Anton remained silent, just like everyone else.

“I ran as fast as I could into the forest. I...I don't know how long I ran for, but I found others that had done the same thing. So, we hid and waited. Waited as we heard our families being killed. ” He looked at the others. “I'm sorry, my lord. I know that Duchess Belinda does not tolerate failing like this...”

He continued to sob quietly, unable to raise his head. Alfred rested his hand on the man's head. His body tensed but slowly relaxed when Alfred did nothing.

“Hemiskr, can we spare any food for these people?”

“Are you still following that army?” the man asked.

“Yes.” Alfred replied. “Duchess Belinda has decreed that the army will be crushed by whatever means necessary.”

Any chance to throw in a bit about the Duchess being good....

The man scrunched his eyes tight. He took a deep breath.

“I...Yes. I would like to join.”

“What skills do you have?” Hemiskr asked.

“I...I can use a bow to hunt game in the forest. Most of the men, and quite a few of the women, can use a bow well. I can hit a beast in the eye in the shadows of the forest. It doesn't matter what happens to me now. I've already betrayed my family and those that I love. I might be able to use my death to do some good.”

“That could be very useful.” Anton said quietly. “Perhaps sending them forward and having them pick off any loners. The loners of the army that did so much harm to these people. At the very least bulk up our archers.”

The man's anger, and those of several around him, began to rise. Anton hoped it was not at him. Alfred nodded slowly before coughing loudly to get the attention of the villagers. There was no conversation or disturbance for him to stop.

“The Duchess has not sent this army to rescue you.” Alfred began. “We are here to kill those that have destroyed your lives. You can stay here, and try to rebuild you lives, or you can join us and fight and kill those that took it from you.”

The crowd was silent. Anton could not tell if what he said was for better or worse.

“We will be departing at dawn. Make your decision before then and talk to one of the captains.”

He walked away without waiting for any reaction. Anton saw a few that seemed to be in agreement, but most just seemed lost.

“Do you think they'll join?” Anton asked.

Alfred look at Hemiskr.

“Who knows. But they now can be given a purpose.” He looked back. “Or, they can always wonder what it would be like if they stood up for themselves. And took their revenge.”

Very strange words to come from Belinda's most loyal butler.

“Let's see how many have decided to join by the morning.” Anton said, turning to their camp fire.

What would anyone do in this situation?

He kicked at the burnt dirt as he turned away. He tried his best to put himself in their positions, but could not. He found Verona and Kal near the small fire outside the burnt down building. Verona waved him over. She was still awake while Kal had curled up next to her. She raised her finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet, as she watched her sleeping form. There was almost a giddy smile on her face as she watched. Kal was very still, only moving the minutest amount with every breath. Anton smiled and sat next to Verona, who rested her head on his lap. She quickly started to drift off to sleep.

Leaving Anton alone to ponder the plight of the villagers.

What would I do if I was here? Without any magic and broken like them...I have no idea.

--------------

Hello!

Maxill is saved from the attack, Zig has fled, and they have given chase.

Alfred wants his soldiers to be ready to fight, and not hide behind magic. Bloody them and get used to the roar of the battlefield. I'm guessing that this happened/happens in reality...

A whole bunch of peasant villagers might be joining, bolstering their army. The same sort that Ivano was worried about. They won't be the same as fully armed soldiers but they will add up. And, if used correctly, their ferocity and rage will be unmatched.

Religious issues, with the Church of the Holy Father, are only just starting to bubble. How will the truly devout react to seeing two walking heretical mages?

Also got them sleeping in a secure area. Don't want anything bad happening to them while they sleep.

Chapter 053 - Clogging Meat

Chapter 053:

Ivano held himself back from raging at those in his command tent. All his subordinates stood motionless in complete silence. The map of the Qaiviel Kingdom lay infront of him. Seeing the map, and the relative position of their and the enemies forces, only increased his anger and frustration.

He felt like he had been here before just the day before.

A significant portion of their forces had been lost to no avail. Over the night many riders and messengers had come to him, telling him of the increasingly dire situation they were falling into.

“Almost five thousand Orcs and one thousand of our Clansmen. That fool Zig was not able to take Maxill.” Ivano said aloud, none willing to say anything. “And now, they're following us and hounding our rear forces.”

“The Orcs said there was some sort of fire mage that was hiding in the forest.” Brenna said.

She was the only one there brave enough to speak up when he was in such a state of tranquil fury. He had heard the story from the tired and broken Orcs when they caught up with the main force. Many Orcs collapsed at the camp perimeter, but not before telling him some nonsensical story.

“A fire mage that could actually do what they say....” Ivano shook his head. “No. It's something else. Everyone would have heard about such a powerful person. There's no way that the Qaiviel Kingdom would keep such thing a secret. A few of their hunters just set fire to the forest with oil traps and ran. I saw the smoke coming from the forest. Zig cannot blame his failings on some made up magician. If he had committed all of his soldiers like he said he would...”

“What about the lightning?” Brenna asked, a strange look on her face.

That stumped Ivano. For that he had no explanation. Using lightning magic, to the scale that the Orcs reported, could be possible. But only if there was a team of experienced and powerful mages. Ones he knew that would not be staying at Maxill. Whatever it was, it only made him more worried about what might be coming for them. He rested his hands on his chin and stared at the map. Only the sound of movement and work from his Clansmen, from outside, filled the tent.

Even if there was a mage of that strength...perhaps a few mages, they could not have withstood all of the Orcs coming at them. If Zig had committed more...No mage can last indefinitely...Nothing can be done about it now.

Finally Ivano sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Someone find Zig.” he said, his anger rising when he spoke that name. "That runt hasn't even dared to show his face to me since he arrived back."

The other Clansmen present bowed and made for the exit. Something stirred within him as he continued to think about that worm. He stood up, knocking back the chair, and slammed his fists into the table.

“And make sure that everyone that he considers a leader, is brought as well! I want all of them here!” he bellowed after the exiting clansmen.

They jumped at the sound and scurried out. He had not meant to direct his anger at them, but it was becoming too hard to keep himself calm. Looking over the forces, disregarding the supposed magician, he was becoming increasingly worried. It was almost certain that messages had gotten out from Maxill on the first day of the siege, not that any feasible plan could have stopped that. Especially with the Qaiviel hunters roaming the forest. Now they could be attacked from the rear with Maxill still standing. It was a good staging and resupply point. A few thousand soldiers was not a threat to their army but it gave him pause. That they were actually following implied that there was some sort of plan.

He sat in silence and continued to pour his mental energy into the map.

It took some time for Zig, and his commanders, to arrive. The clansmen walked in normally, but time dragged on as Ivano stared lifelessly at the tent flap. The moments passed, his subordinates avoiding his gaze. All waiting for Zig. He sighed and returned to looking at the map. He was not going to play Zig's games.

Finally Zig burst through the tent as dramatically as he could, throwing the flap up with all his might as he confidently strode in. Ivano looked up at the Orc and his entourage. His followers were dressed like professional Orc soldiers while he was still wearing the flamboyant yellow, orange and blue clothes. Still like a pretending noble. Seeing his face brought back the creeping feeling of nausea whenever he saw him. But, looking past that, there was nothing on his face that even hinted at the possible disaster that they were facing. Or his retreat and now their pursuers chasing after them. Zig was smiling like he had won a massive and overwhelming victory.

Ivano took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he spoke.

“I'm glad you came, Zig.” Ivan tried his best to keep his voice steady, but it was far more difficult than he imagined.

“Your people gave me the impression that it was urgent.”

Hearing that made his blood boil, but he kept himself calm.

How could this not be urgent?

He waved to some of the Clansmen nearby to get some chairs. Zig and his Orcs took them, sitting opposite Ivano. Now Zig looked so much smaller and weaker than the others. The fact that they had not killed him already was quite puzzling, especially with how his father came to power. And how he was behaving now.

“What happened at Maxill?” Ivano asked softly. “You said that the Orcs were going to march and take the city...and yet, I saw most of them travelling with us.”

Zig barred his teeth at Ivano. He took a quick glance at the Orcs either side of him.

“We thought that six thousand Orcs would be enough.” he said.

“Six thousand Orcs?” Ivano trailed off.

He leaned forward, repeatedly stubbing his finger on the marker for Maxill.

“The city is still standing, and not under our control.”

Zig did not have a response, merely looking at the map.

“No sacking or looting of resources. Now they can use that as a base where they can continue attacks on us, which they are now doing. You told me that you could handle this small city.” Ivano glanced up at Zig, who remained still. “Well. What you have to say?”

“We weren't expecting those rats to have a Grand Mage with them. What was I supposed to do? I am supposed to be able to predict this shit? I can't do anything like that Grand Mage.” Zig frowned, leaning on one arm and pointing his finger at Ivano. "A Grand Mage that could set fire to a forest, and summon lightning, I might add. Explain that!"

“Ugh, this again.” Ivano grumbled. “I saw the smoke and fire, but that can be easily explained by those Qaiviel hunters setting the forest on fire rather than pulling a mage out of your arse. You didn't secure your perimeter or perform a search of the area before you brought out valuable siege equipment. Oil, tar and fire...You were beaten by your lack of attention to detail.”

Zig scoffed at his response.

“And the lightning? Was that the work of those hunters?”

Smugness formed on his face as Ivano could not answer that properly.

“No mage, even a Grand Mage, could keep doing that for long. If you have brought all of your forces Maxill would be a smouldering ruin, and not able to inform the enemy on our direction.”

“Perhaps.” Zig spoke after waiting for some time. “But it could have been a complete disaster. If there were more mages...”

A smiled formed on his face. “Then you would have no Orcs to fight for you.”

That might actually be a good thing.

“We should have committed all our forces on the attack.” Ivano mumbled. “Yours and ours. Then it would have been crushed.” Zig and the other Orcs looked genuinely surprised at his admission.

“But.” he continued. “This bickering will only aide our enemies.”

“...True.” Zig did not seem to know where to go with his words. He awkwardly scratched as his black beard.

Clansmen were known as a stubborn lot. Backing down or admitting they were wrong was something extremely rare. It caught Zig off guard.

“So....How many Orcs have you lost?”

Zig looked at his subordinates, who gave him a light nod.

“Four thousand.” he said quietly. “Though...”

“Though, what?”

“Not all died at Maxill. We don't even know if they are all actually dead.”

Ivano stared at him blankly.

“We retreated, after the fire and lightning magic, some of the Orcs stopped to loot the villages and hamlets-”

“I told you that was not to happen.” Ivano grumbled angrily.

Zig shrugged. “They said that they wanted to rest. And I let them. Those that had the strength to continue, did so. I have my reasons.”

Ivano sighed.

“You saw the state of them when they arrived at the camp.” Zig continued. “Some of those have already died from exhaustion.”

“They should have formed blocking forces to delay the potential counter attack.”

Zig scowled. "So that's all we are all to you? Just flesh and corpses for you to throw away to keep your precious Clansmen safe."

Just as Ivano was about to erupt in fury at the Orcs a Clansmen messenger came into the tent, beleaguered and drenched in sweat. A short neigh came through the tent. The messenger had ridden his horse through the entire camp. Something terrible was happening.

“Yes?” Ivano asked. The Orcs did not even turn around.

“On our patrol south we've spotted a small Qaiviel force, camped some miles south of us.” he said through short and laboured breaths. “About three, maybe four thousand. They've stopped in a burnt down village for the night."

Ivano stared silently at the Orcs. Zig had agreed with him that there was going to be no looting, but he had already broken that. Now there seemed to be wanton and random destruction. Such fire and death would only embolden and swell their enemies ranks with the survivors. And draw in young fighters from the surrounding villages looking for glory or revenge.

“Were you spotted?”

The messenger shook his head.

“Thank you for your report.” Ivan said, the messenger quickly departing.

Ivano turned his full attention to Zig.

“It seems that your Orcs did more than just loot.” he began. “And I doubt that they would burn down their own village down for no reason. Now they'll be even more angry.”

“So what?”

“So what? Now the peasants that survived could fight with the army. They won't be the best fighters, but they won't give in. Stories will spread out and they could recruit more from the villages. Who knows how many they could get...How many survived from that village alone? How many more villages are there? They could have thousands more by the time we get to the border.”

Zig only shrugged. Nothing on his face gave any hint of the sort of creeping dread that Ivano felt.

“There could be hundreds from that village alone that survived.” Ivano folded his arms in a huff, looking down at the map. He looked at the map where they were, around them there were dozens of small dots, the small dots of villages and hamlets. If they could get some soldiers from each, they could get a decent army to harass them. “We need to deal with them before we arrive at the Border Forts. That small force could cause some serious damage if they attack at the right time.”

“We know where they are...” Zig began. “A Clansmen attack could easily deal with them.”

“Are you afraid of your soldiers looking weak?” Ivano asked.

“The Orcs have suffered the brunt of this invasion.” Zig replied angrily. “The Clansmen have suffered very little and seemingly just walk away from fights. I do not want my Orcs whittled away while you keep yours safe with our blood.”

Ivano saw the looks of anger on their faces. They felt that they were the lesser in this campaign. They were. Not that they needed that hammered into them any more. These Orcs were nothing like the Orc clans of old. Far less discipline and prone to pointless violence. Primitive. Seeing how unstable these Orcs seemed to be he didn't want to agitate them further and potentially lead to an even worse state of cooperation between the two armies. If an outburst happened, and their armies turned on themselves, they would have no hope of succeeding against the Qaiviel Kingdom.

“We will send five thousand Clansmen to attack this Qaiviel force, if you are willing to send that many Orcs as well.”

Something flashed over Zig's face. Surprise.

If there is a powerful mage, and we direct our whole army at it, we could take huge losses before we dealt with them. We could overwhelm them, but we might not have enough strength to take out the Border Forts or our secondary targets. Especially if there's a team of powerful mages there...

We'd also loose valuable time. Time for a message, that almost certainly got out of Maxill, to arrive and ready them for what's coming. Not to mention time to mobilise the Knight Orders. At the very least this force will delay the enemy while we continue to move...This is the best compromise I can think of.

“We cannot have them harassing our army.” Ivano said. “So, will you agree?”

Zig held up his hand and spoke with the Orcs either side in hushed whispers. As the moments dragged on Ivano's patience began to wear thin. He held himself together until they parted.

“Very well.” Zig clapped his hands. “We will send our forces to work together with your Clansmen. Who will be leading this assault?”

Ivano had not given it much thought. He had expected the Orcs to try and back out.

“I will leave it to you. Just make sure that you choose a good one.”

Zig smiled and nodded, holding out his hand to shake. It was smooth but a firm hand. Not like an Orc's.

“It will take some time to organise for the assault.” Zig began. “Do we launch a night assault?”

Ivano tapped his fingers impatiently.

If there really is a mage, of the strength the Orcs have described, there's every chance that the attack could be destroyed. After that, who's to say they won't attack us during the night and then run away. Hit and run attacks are going to wear us down to nothing before we reach the Border Forts.

Ivano slammed his fist onto the table, catching everyone by surprise.

“Prepare for a dawn raid. The enemy is resting but I don't want their hunters to pick us off while we move to attack their camp. I'm sure they'll have some in between our camps. Those hunters and archers, striking from the dark...our army might loose their nerve before they even make it to the enemy."

"They're an annoying bunch." Zig lamented.

"But, while those forces ready for the attack, we will put as much distance between our main force and the enemy before dawn. If the worse happens, and there is a powerful mage amongst them, they will do so much damage to them that they cannot follow. Or are destroyed.”

Zig frowned deeply, looking down at the map.

“And if they do fail there will be so much distance between us that they cannot reach us before we reach the Border Forts.”

Zig still looked unconvinced. Ivano still needed a little more encouragement to win him over.

“Then there won't be anything to stop us from bringing in all of our warriors to these land. Hundreds and thousands of Orcs and Clansmen...One mage won't be able to stand up to that.”

Zig chuckled, a honest smile forming on his green face.

“Very well. But I want all of the loot from the soldiers that we kill. And everything at the Border Forts. And the first five cities.”

“Agreed.”

Ivano had no care for looting the dead in such a manner. Nor of looting those forts or cities. Besides most of it would end up in the Clansmen's hands when they sell it to them. This was just a way of cutting out some of the work.

“I will ready my forces.” Zig said as he stood up. “I trust that you will do the same?”

Ivano nodded.

“Then we are done here. We need to return to begin moving my army.”

He gave a final nod before exiting the tent. Every clansmen present breathed a sigh of relief. Brenna, who had been standing very quietly in the corner, came forward and took one of the Orcs seats.

“Do you mean to do this?” she asked, a frown forming on her face.

“Of course.” Ivano replied. “That army will only grow as the Orcs pillage their way through the land. Better that it's dealt with now.”

Brenna shrugged. “I'll go and get our warriors ready to move-”

“Send the weakest.” he frowned deeply. “It's despicable for me to do this...But I don't want our forces to be significantly weakened before our main fight. Also give them specific order to retreat if any magicians are spotted. At the very least it'll convince them that we're not a big as a threat as we are.”

“Most of the 'weakest' are from the smaller clans.” she said. “The few they've sent might be all they've got. They may never recover.”

“I know.” he replied, sighing as he ran his hands through his hair. “That's why I don't want them to engage an actual battle with mages. Let those wretched Orcs do the dying.”

Brenna gave a nod and relayed the order to the other waiting Clansmen. They looked a little confused by his words but carried them out regardless. Brenna waited at the entrance and gave a final look back.

He smiled and looked up.

“Maybe...Maybe the Orcs will finally be of some use. Meat for the enemy to choke on.”

Brenna wore a blank face as he looked back down.

“Tell everyone that it will be a forced march from now on. Us included. We need to put as much distance between us and the Qaiviel forces before morning. I just hope Zig actually sends some capable warriors this time.”

He could not help the smile that formed on his face. Ivano picked up one of the Orc icons and slammed it into the map.

“Green meat for Qaiviel to choke on.”

-----------

Hello!

Got another from the Clansmen side. Seeing how the Orc leader is deliusional about his position and Ivano more than willing to sacrifice Orcs to buy some time. But he still wants to complete his mission even though it might just be sending people to die, if the mage turns out to be real.

So...there you go. Just a bit more insight into how the Clansmen operate in these situations.

Also the problems of having two high level commanders with wildly different personalities and objectives.

Thanks for reading, and Any and All Donations!

Chapter 054 - Gravestone

Chapter 054:

Something hard was poking Anton's face. Trying to rouse him from a deep slumber. It was like a finger but there was something hard in the center. Again and again it tried to awaken him. Whatever it was it was annoying and ruined the pleasant dream he was enjoying. Anton grumbled as he forced himself awake.

The sky above him was still a murky black with a hint of blue. It was not even dawn yet. Not even remotely. He had taken the first watch of the three so he should still have been sleeping. Unless something bad had happened.

He groaned as he looked to where the disturbance came from. Kal was crouching infront of him, resting one hand on her knee. She poked him again, Anton frowning as he looked at her. She squeaked as he brushed her hand away. Nothing about her screamed that they were in any immanent threat. She had hit him to awaken him before, but there was a wolf pack attacking and he refused to wake. Though he was sure that Kal was not going to poke him without reason. Not because she was awake, bored and wanted someone to talk to.

“Good morning Kal.” he said, his voice still tired from his forced awakening. “Is something happening?”

Kal nodded. He was certain that she was smiling underneath her cloth wrappings. During her sleep she had remained virtually still, nothing hinting at what she really was.

“Yes. Alfred and Hemiskr have told everyone that we are to be moving at first light.” she said, her voice a little fluttery. “Verona's just gone to get something for us to eat.”

Anton nodded, though his mind was still not working completely right.

“No attacks during the night?”

“No.” Kal shook her head, moving so she sat next to him with less than a person's width between them. “I climbed onto the roof, during my watch, but I couldn't see the enemy army. It was very quiet night.”

“I suppose that's good news.” Anton shuffled himself upright and stretched out his limbs. He presumed that she could see very well in the dark, though not as well as with his magic. Part of him regretted not doing that for last night. “By the way, why were you poking me?”

Kal jumped in surprise and started to fidget at the ends of her wrappings. She did not answer him.

“I mean last time you just kicked me in the gut to wake me, when the wolves attacked.”

She coughed awkwardly and raised her head high.

“That time I did try to wake you by pushing on your head first. But you didn't seem to want to wake. Verona mentioned that if you weren't waking up quickly, I should try something more direct. Like...poking you in the face.”

He raised his eyebrow at her. Kal shrugged.

“She said she's done that before to wake you.”

Anton chuckled. “A few times.”

He stood up, stretching his back and legs out. Kal stood up as well and stretched out herself. Every movement was followed by the faintest squeak. Anton did not feel so good. Sleeping on the cold ground, with only a thin blanket, was not doing much good for his body. It had only been one night and he felt noticeably worse. He could use his prayer power to heal himself but somehow it felt like it was cheating. Kal, who had spent most of her life like this, seemed fine.

“Do you feel any different?” he asked her.

She cocked her head at him. With the cloth wrappings it was quite hard to gauge her expressions. Thankfully she exaggerated her actions for his sake.

“You've spent most of your life...in the wilderness. Not on a warm and soft bed. Did you ever waking up stiff and cold?”

Kal waited a few seconds before nodding. “Yes. But I had to keep moving to survive. So I just ignored it.” she glanced him over. “Stretches help though.”

“Right.” Anton continued to stretch out his body.

Now that he was more alert he could hear the sounds of a growing and rapid movement throughout the camp. Sounds and smells of cooking began to grow louder and more intense. The smell of salted pork, potatoes and vegetables filled his nose, tantilising his senses. The idea of a hearty and simple meal made him feel very hungry.

“Verona said she was going to get some for each of us.” Kal looked out. “I'm...I'm not....brave, enough to go out there by myself.”

“That's...” Anton did not know how to properly respond. “Well, You...Yes.”

He felt very awkward as a light flush came over his face. Kal chuckled at his embarrassment. She moved happily to the dwindling fire infront of them, holding out her hands to warm herself on what heat remained. The small fire produced a surprising amount of heat. He sighed and relaxed as the warmth travelled through his body.

Another clamour rang out from deeper into the camp. He could see Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries jostling each other to form a line for the food.

“Do you like cooking?” Anton asked.

“What?” Kal's head twitched in surprise.

“You seemed like you really enjoyed cooking that mushroom soup thing in the forest...So, I was just wondering if you liked to cook.”

Kal went silent for some time, not moving her gaze from the fire. He began to feel that his attempt at creating conversation had turned out for the worst.

“I do.” she spoke softly after nearly a minute of silence. “It was the only thing that could really distract me from what I was going through. Smelling cooking food; meat, warm bread, cooked vegetables...all of it helped me forget where and who I was.”

She turned to him. “I suppose I came to like the only thing that took me out of that place. Made me feel...normal.”

Anton smiled and patted her head. She let out a soft and cute mewl with every stroke.

“When we get back, could you make some more? I would really like to try it again. It was so different compared to everything that we have in the village.”

“I would like that to.” he was certain that she was smiling. “I'll need somewhere to grow the mushrooms, but I don't think that'll be a problem.”

She turned her head towards him. “Do...Do you think we'll make it back?” there was a hint of fear in her voice. “You're going up against more enemies than you have...well, since you arrived.”

If Anton was honest with himself he had a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. He was certain that everyone here in the camp had a similar feeling.

“I do.” he said. Patting her again. “I'll make sure that we do.”

“Thank you.” she looked back at the fire. “I wa-”

“Hello!” Verona's voice cut in abruptly from far away. “Finally got back.”

Kal stopped and looked over, Anton followed. Verona was making her way through the soldiers, three small bows between here. Tiny wisps of steam rose up from the clay bowls, hinting at the hearty meal within. A wide grin grew on her face as she walked up to them.

“There was almost a fight at the kitchens over there.” she began, handing them one of the bowls.

The bowl was filled with a thick grey and brown soup, a large piece of bread floating on the edge, and a spoon in each. It did not smell as appealing as the mushroom soup that Kal made; the pleasant earthy smell that mixed with the meat was missing. Still, it looked pretty good for what it was. Anton took a spoonfull. It was surprisingly good. Verona seemed equally surprised. Kal raised the cloth until just her mouth was exposed. She raised the bowl so nobody could see her unique teeth as she ate quickly.

Verona coughed, and began to speak with pieces of food still in her mouth.

“Some of the soldiers and mercenaries decided to have a fight over something. Hemiskr had to break it up. It looked like it was a good hit that started it.”

“You didn't get involved?”

Verona laughed.

“No way. Though I nearly got into a fight when they thought I was some sort of beggar.” she looked down at her clothes, then at theirs. “We don't look anything like them. It looks like we're peasants that've just stolen this armour.”

“I've been called worse.” Kal said lightly.

Verona smiled and lent onto his side.

“Can we get some better clothes?” she asked up at him, glancing at Kal. “We could really use some sort of uniform, just like these Qaiviel soldiers, especially if we're going to be taken seriously.”

“I didn't bring much money with me. We've got a few coins from the dead Clansmen.” Anton replied, giving Verona a pat on the head. “We might be able to get something at the end of this mission. If we all wore the same sort of clothing it'll make us look like a proper force. Keep an eye out if we go through any city after we're done.”

Verona gave a quick nod and returned her full attention to her food.

“Though...” Anton mumbled, both girls stopping to look at him. “It'll make things a bit easier for you, Kal.”

Kal remained silent. He was not sure if she understood.

“If you have the same colours as us, and you've just got the cloth wrappings on your face and hands...we've got to find you a mask or something, but, there'd be a lot less questions about you.” Kal slowly started to nod. “They'd just think you're one of us...With some burns or something. Maybe.”

“I...I like the idea.” she said. “But, what would it be?”

“No idea.” Anton replied.

“But something good.” Verona jumped in. “Something that everyone's going to recognise that doesn't look silly. Something simple, and not too expensive.”

They ate in silence for some time. When Anton was nearly finished he heard the footsteps of people approaching. Alfred and Hemiskr approached. They looked a little better than he felt. Had they done something like this before?

“Good morning, Anton.” Alfred began, stopping a few paces from him.

Anton looked up. The sky was only starting to become a dark blue instead of the inky black.

“Good morning to you too...Though, I don't think it's morning yet.” Anton said dryly through a smile. “We continuing our pursuit?”

“We are.” Alfred answered. “We'll be moving very soon.”

“Right. Well, I've got basically most of my mana back.”

“After what you did yesterday?” Alfred asked, a look of stun on his face.

Anton nodded. “Yep. By the way, how many of the villagers decided to join? Was it many or none?”

“Basically all of them.” Hemiskr answered. “The longer the night dragged on the more angry they got, seeing and smelling their burnt village.”

He raised his hands to the burned village around them. “They didn't like what the Orcs did to their lives.”

“I wonder how they feel about the Deweth Clansmen?” Anton said quietly.

“They'll fight them all the same.” Alfred said loudly, Hemiskr had a look of surprise. “They know that without the Deweth Clansmen the Orcs would have never come to their lands.”

“Sounds fair.” Verona mumbled, picking at the edges of her bowl.

Anton remembered that Kal was in the presence of people that did not know her secret. He looked to her to find that she had already pulled down her face cloth over her mouth. A tiny wave of relief came over him, he was glad that she was on top of things. To have survived this long she would have to be.

“We should be expecting even more soldiers to join this morning.” Alfred said offhandedly.

“Oh?"

“These mercenaries we have with us.” he began. “Are not all that the kingdom has to offer. However we were not able to get all of them to Maxill before the attacks started. Last message I received that they're waiting at a place the locals call the Gravestone, before they were to head towards Maxill. I've sent a rider to tell them to wait there. It's a little way to the north west from here. But it'll bolster our army quite a bit.”

“Are we heading to that place....the Gravestone? First?” Verona asked. “Will we get to the mercenaries or run into the enemy first?”

“Some of the scouts are currently looking into that. We'll head to Gravestone first. Boost our numbers before we start any further attacks. We'll need everyone we can get.”

“How many mercenaries are you expecting?” Anton asked.

“If my summons have been listened to, which they should...They still owe me enough.” Alfred trailed off to a near whisper at the end.

Anton and Verona shared a glance, but neither seemed to know much. He knew that Alfred was a former mercenary of some kind, having travelled as far as Seocuria at least one. Surely he could have acquired some favours and allies over that time.

“Should bring our force to well over three thousand. Maybe even more.” he continued. “I don't know how many of my former friends are dead, but the amount of gold that I promised for this job should draw them out of hiding.”

“Three thousand is not going to do much against sixty thousand.” Kal said quietly.

“True.” Alfred politely nodded to her. “But, that was never our intention. We could not win in a straight up fight...So we won't. We may not even be able to stop them at all if I'm honest. Our best bet is to weaken them as much as we can. So the Knights can deal with them more easily.”

That's...That's a lot, coming from someone in your position.

“But, we'll make them pay for invading our kingdom.”

“Do the villagers have much in the way combat potential? Or are they just going to be filling up our numbers of archers?” Anton asked.

“This area is still part of Duchess Belinda's territory.” Alfred answered.

“And.” Hemiskr continued. “The main goods that comes from this region is game from the forest. Meat and hides...I've been asking and they seem to be capable archers. They've lost quite a bit of their gear, but when we meet up with the other mercenaries-”

“My lord! Sir!” a shout came from the north.

A Qaiviel horsemen was charging at them at full speed through the camp. He and his horse looked extremely tired and haggard. When they came close the horse buckled and collapsed. Anton had no idea as to how hard that man had ridden that horse.

Some soldiers tended to the collapsed, though still alive, horse, while the rider ran towards them.

“The enemy is on the move.” he said. “They're coming here, right now!”

Anton tried his best to look out the camp. It was still very dim but he could make out the terrain beyond the light of the camp. Not that he could see anything. Kal looked out as well, remaining silent as she continued to stare into the inky darkness.

“Makes sense I suppose.” Anton said dryly, collecting Verona and Kal's bowl. “By the time they get here it'll be light enough for them to see properly."

“How many?” Alfred asked, seemingly ignoring Anton's comments.

“Ten thousand, I'm guessing.” he replied. “About half are Orcs and the other are Clansmen.”

“Only ten thousand?” Alfred and Hemiskr asked in unison.

The rider nodded furiously.

“Did you see where the main army went?” Anton asked.

“No...Grand Mage.”

Guess that's my name in this Kingdom then.

“I didn't see them. Though, they were only just leaving a large camp site. It looked like the others had already left some time ago.”

“Sounds like they've continued on to the border forts during the night.” Alfred mumbled.

Hemiskr nodded in agreement. “Sending those ten thousand to deal with us.”

Verona looked very confused. “Why not just send everyone? I don't think that we could fight off sixty thousand soldiers...We didn't do that well with eight thousand Yellow Goblins.”

“How many?” Hemiskr asked.

“We'll tell you later.” Anton told him, Hemiskr quite astonished by the number.

“If they attacked like that," Anton continued. "We could use our magic and might be able to take out half of them. Maybe.” Verona frowned at him. “I think I've gotten better at controlling my magic. I'll just summon as many of those flame pillars as I can. That could take out tens of thousands....”

“They're here to slow us down or wipe us out.” Alfred barred and grit his teeth. “We cannot wait here. This is not a good position to defend. Gravestone is far better.”

He turned to Hemiskr. “Tell everyone that they need to move now. If they aren't ready by the time I give the signal to leave, they'll be left behind to fight the enemy by themselves. Go! Now!”

Hemiskr paled slightly, saluted and ran towards the soldiers. He bellowed some orders, quickly followed by a flurry of movement and shouting. Everyone wolfed down food and began packing their up equipment.

Alfred turned to them. “I want you on the northern flank as we advance on the Gravestone. Keep an eye out for the enemy, and keep them off us until we get there. Please don't use your strongest magic just yet....We want them to come at us, so they don't just disperse for us to hunt down later.”

Anton smiled and nodded.

“You got it.”

Alfred saluted, perhaps out of reflex, which Anton returned, and returned to the main camp. Already they were almost ready to leave. He knew this was going to be a big day for all of them.

---[]---

Anton kept his horse moving at a brisk pace, keeping the Qaiviel soldiers on his left and his attention focused out towards the right. To the north. The land was a seemingly endless flat grasslands, as was everywhere in this part of the kingdom seemed to be. He could not see the Orcs and Clansmen approaching yet but he knew they would be coming for them. He hopped they would not be coming from behind, he kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure. Verona and Kal rode beside him. Kal was a better scout than him, constantly keeping her head swiviling about. So far she had not seen or smelt anything.

A cry came out from the front of the army. Anton followed the cry and saw something ahead of them, something large and grey rising out of the grasslands. The Qaiviel soldiers were emboldened by what they saw.

The Gravestone was a large hill, perhaps fifty meters tall at its highest point and hundreds wide, surrounded by giant upright stones at the base. These were easily a hundred meters tall, ten in all, and standing equally apart. They were partly covered by the hill. Someone had made this, a very long time ago. Certainly not by humans.

“It looks like a crown.” Anton mumbled quietly. “A really crude one.”

Verona looked at him.

“The way it looks...”

“I don't know what a crown's supposed to look like.” Verona said. “Though I'm pretty sure it's meant to be made from gold, or something. Lot's of gems and stuff.”

“The old Kar Kingdom's king, or queen, probably had something like that. Though, I'm pretty sure that it doesn't need to be gold or have jewels adorning it. I'm pretty sure that some used wood instead.”

“So...It's just showing that somebodies in charge?”

“Right. I'm pretty sure that some didn't need crowns to show off they're in charge. It's just-”

“I see something.” Kal said quietly, interupting his ramblings. She pointed to the north east.

A slow ripple moved above the grass and below the light blue sky. Coming towards them. He could easily guess what they were.

“They are quick.” Anton said. “I'm guessing that they've sent some scouts forward...Alfred!”

Alfred was near the front of the column of soldiers. He heard Anton's shout and looked to where Kal was pointing. His face drained of colour.

“Move! Everyone Move!” he yelled.

A light groan emanated from the soldiers as they picked up their pace. Anton kept his horse at the same pace as before so they slowly dropped back from the marching column of soldiers. They could take on anyone that tried to attack the army from the side. Eventually the rear of the column passed them by. This was not filled by soldiers in green and white, or unmatched dull armour. These were the villagers. They had whatever weapons they could find; rusty axes and long handled scythes, along with quite a few with bows. Anton smiled as he saw the determination in their faces.

The enemy continued their approach, far more slowly than he thought. They arrived at the Gravestone when the enemy were still very far away.

As the first Qaiviel soldiers started to climb the hill dozens of soldiers emerged from the peak. All bared dulled swords, spears and bows at the soldiers. The column ground to a halt. They were not Qaiviel Kingdom soldiers but were dressed and equipped in the same way as the mercenaries. Hopefully their mercenaries. Alfred rode forward and the mercenaries lowered their weapons, he gave a wave and the soldiers began to move again.

It was clear that they knew one another; Alfred and one of the new mercenaries threw their heads back in laughter, Alfred patting one on the shoulder. He looked back and caught Anton's eye and waved them over.

The moment the soldiers had started to arrive at the site Hemiskr ordered the soldiers to start dig some fortifications on the hill. They did not have much in the way of shovels or proper tools. Still they persevered as best they could. Shield bearing soldiers took position in a line behind the giant stones and the archers and spearmen behind them.

They made their way through the flurry of running soldiers through to Alfred.

“Anton,” Alfred began, already dismounted from his horse and in the midst of a gathering of the new mercenaries. These looked like the commanders. “I would like to introduce you to some of my old mercenary friends.”

“We're not that old.” one of them said to Alfred, a warm smile on his weathered face.

Despite his words he did not look that young or spritely. He easily looked to be in his sixties. However the rest of his body was clearly in good shape, as was his armour and weapons. Judging by the scars on his face he had seen combat for most of his life. He would not be here, or alive, if his age interfered with his ability to fight.

“So, who are these three Alfred?” he asked, a light frown on his face as he looked them over.

Anton looked down at his clothes. They looked just like the a volunteer villager given some armour.

Verona's right. We aren't going to be taken seriously with these sort of clothes. We look like peasants with gifted, or more likely stolen, leather armour. I wonder how expensive we should go when we find a clothier. Is that the name of them in this world?

“My name is Anton,” he said as he dismounted from his horse, Verona and Kal following.

A soldier came forward and took the reins of both of their horses and led them away. The mercenaries now looked even more confused.

“Name's Verona, and this is Kal.” Kal gave a little bow of her head at Verona's introduction.

“I'm sorry, but I don't recognise your name.” the mercenary looked at Alfred. “You don't seem like you're just soldiers.”

“They've only just arrived in the Kingdom.” Alfred began. “They've come at Duchess Belinda's request. They helped us fight off the Orcs and Clansmen besieging Maxill. I think that without them we wouldn't be here.”

“Well...” the new mercenary leader seemed somewhat impressed. “My name's Conrad.”

He held out his leather gloved hand for Anton to shake. It was a rough and firm shake.

“Alfred and I were both in this company. But, that was an eternity ago. We go back a long way.”

Conrad smiled and looked over at his mercenaries. They looked a little different than the ones that accompanied them from Maxill, more regimented in appearance.

“Ah...This is the White Dog Company...Well, some of it.” he sighed and looked at Alfred, apology plastered over his face. “A third of the Company is still in the south of the Kingdom, fighting off some bandits that have sprout up. At least that's what they've told me. They won't be able to help out this time.”

Alfred looked around as well.

“There were more here when I left.”

Conrad shrugged. “Things haven't always been the best. Some of the other companies are more aggressive in poaching new recruits. But, ours is still the strongest company in the North.”

He chuckled.

“We've got another eight hundred mercenaries to add to your little army.” Conrad looked to the north east. “Though, we seem grossly outnumbered.”

The enemy army had begun to spread out and were now a few kilometres away and closing quickly. Hemiskr was leading a desperate entrenchment, he was even helping out personally. Small ditches infront of their positions had been dug and were continuing to be extended. There were no trees to use to make better defences or spikes. Anton was not sure what they would do against such a large enemy, but any sort of defence was better than nothing. The only defensible aspect of this place seemed to be the hill the enemy would have to charge up, a charge that would sap their strength. It was better than just being out on the plains.

Alfred moved forward and patted Anton on the shoulder, breaking him out of his mental wanderings.

“We've got a Fire and Lightning Grand Mage on our side.” he glanced at Verona and Kal. “And two other interesting women.”

“Him?” Conrad asked.

He seemed very dubious of Alfred's claim. Anton knew that he would be too, if someone had said that about him. His current appearance would always be an issue.

“Yep.” Verona said proudly. “And I'm a Blood Berserker, and Kal's an expert archer and wielder of nasty poisons.”

Conrad looked at the red swirling marks on Verona's exposed hands. His frown deepened as he saw how many and extensive they were. Conrad leaned towards Alfred.

“Are you sure you want to have one of those on your side?” he asked quietly, “They have a tendency to go a little bit crazy.”

“I can hear you.” Verona huffed, folding her arms and staring deeply into his eyes.

Conrad flushed lightly in embarrassment, coughing to quickly recover.

“They've been a great help.” Alfred told Conrad. "And continue to surpise us all."

Conrad shrugged. “Fine. We'll need everything to survive. I really doubt they'll let us just go now.”

Anton turned his attention to the enemy approaching. They were very close now.

“I'll attack as soon as I can.” Anton said.

“Wait until they're close.” Alfred said, catching an odd look from Anton. “If they see any of your magic before they engage they're probably just going to run. We want to get as many as we can. Otherwise we're going to have to chase them down. And then we'll be the one being harassed.”

“Got it.” Anton replied. “Hopefully they'll bunch together for me.”

“I'm not really sure what you're talking about.” Conrad looked between them. “But, I'll tell the men to get in position.”

Conrad gave Alfred a nod and walked to the other mercenaries. He gave a yell and they burst into motion, racing to the defensive lines. They moved to the positions that were going to bear the brunt of the assault. The center.

Nearly half of the hill had been surrounded, as every enemy continued to advance, none had been left in reserve. Everything was being thrown into one attack.

Is that something to do with their nature? Or is there another reason, like a sort of political reason? That they are forced to work together?

Anton, even without his eyesight enhancement, could see the annoyance and anger on their faces. Most was not directed towards them. The Clansmen and Orcs were almost fighting amongst themselves as they advanced. They seemed more concerned with each other than with them. Did they not consider them a threat? Or, did they just hate each other more?

“Kal?” Anton turned to his side, Kal already had an arrow nocked. “Do see any archers in their ranks?”

Kal surveyed the army, shrugging her shoulders. “I cannot see any amongst the Orcs, but a few of the Clansmen have archers. Though it's less than we have on our side.”

“Maybe they want to get into our face when we fight?” Verona offered, looking at Alfred.

He was silent and continued to look out.

If something that big was going to crash into me...That would be terrifying. A good strategy for them I suppose.

Now the enemy was close to the base of the hill. Surely they should be in range of the archers. Anton turned to ask Alfred, but Hemiskr stopped him.

“Archers! Fire at will!”

Every archer and crossbowman loosed their arrows and bolts at once, the surge of noise was strangely electrifying. The enemy raised their shields to block the arrows as they continued their march. They struck the front row of the Orcs and Clansmen, many falling down in a torrent of screams.

A single cry ran out from the centre of the enemy mass. It was the same as the cry when the Orcs charged at the burning village. Orcs hollored and jeered, raising their weapons and shields and charged. The very ground trembled as they ran. Clansmen around them looked on stunned as they continued in a steady march. Order had collapsed at the very start of the battle.

“There's no organisation in their ranks.” Alfred lamented, punctuated by another volley of arrows directed at the Orcs.

“Two commanders?” Anton offered. “Two commanders, with the same authority but differing objectives...Two different styles between the enemies...I don't know.”

“It's something that we should take advantage of.” Alfred mumbled. “Although, it may make your next move a little more difficult.”

The Orcs had nearly reached the bottom and started to climb the hill, not worrying about the number of their comrades that were falling around them. Arrows peppered the ground, the screams and cries grated at his mind, but they still continued. The clansmen followed behind but continued their cautious marching pace.

“Right.” Anton said as he readied the mana within his mind. “I'll hit the main body and see what happens. Verona?”

“Yeah.” she unfolded her arms and readied her spear. “I'll head to where I'm needed the most...”

She pulled out a thick piece of cloth and wrapped it around her face, like a bandit mask. While he had promised to think of a better way to stop her ingesting the blood he had not been able to try to make anything before they had to leave. He hoped it would be enough. He trusted her judgement.

After giving it a quick strength test, she looked towards the Orcs. They were just starting to climb the hill.

“Seems like they're thickest just infront of us.” She closed her eyes, her whole body began to glow bright red.

Many nearby gasped in shock. Hemiskr and Conrad shouted to focus the soldiers attention on the enemy.

“I'll need some blood.”

Anton offered his hand and Verona quickly took a few drops. She formed it into thin shards, took another deep breath, and ran towards the first line of shield bearing soldiers. They glanced at her, quickly yelled at by a commander, and refocused their attention outwards. Shields interlocked and held firm. Behind them were spearmen and swordsmen, ready to attack anything that reached their lines.

Anton formed as many tethered rings of fire magic he could, twelve rings all tethered to each other in a line. It was the most magic he had used at once. He knew how dangerous five tethered together could be, he was honestly worried at how much damage it would cause.

Nevertheless he pushed the rings past the base of the hill and into the main mass of the enemy just as they started to rise. When he released the magic nearly everything left him. The very breath was ripped out of his lungs as his legs buckled underneath his weight. Even his sight blured and faded for a moment. Kal moved andgrabbed him by the shoulders hard, slowly lowering him so he didn't fall down on his side. He gave a silent thanks as he steadied himself. He barely had a tenth of his magic left. It took quite a bit of mental effort to keep awake.

The ground, and the even very air, began to glow red, so much more than he had seen before. Only the Orcs at the front, and away from the rapidly glowing ground, did not stop in surprise.

A moment later everything disappeared in a blinding orange light. Heat blasted over his body as he eyes tried furiously to adjust. A roar defeaned his ears. The seconds continued to drag on while the heat, light and sound refused to recede. Many of their own soldiers cried out in surprise, barely perceptible over the roar of the flame. A hand dug deeply into his arm as it twisted slightly. Kal retreated behind Anton's form to shield herself, he could feel her head pressing against his back. Her senses were far greater than a humans. This must have been torture. He had no idea what was happening around him. Of how the battle was going. Even if it was still going on and their soldiers were being slaughtered in the blinding light.

The Orcs could be still attacking, but I can't see!

Remembering what he had done at the Kobold camp, and his use of the prayer magic to recover his hearing from the lightning bombs, he chanted a prayer to restore his sight by compensating for the brightness. He forced his eyes open and gasped at the sight.

Twelve pillars of flame rose into the sky infront of him, buffeting the small clouds overhead. Even with his magically enhanced and protected eyes he could barely see past the bright light.

I didn't expect most of my mana to be capable of something like this! I...I need to find someone to tell me how this tethering thing works.

Behind him Kal had dropped her bow and covered her eyes completely, using his body to block out the light. Alfred had done the same thing but Anton could see that he was trying desperately to see through gaps in his fingers.

The soldiers at the front, amazingly, had kept their shields up. They moved low to protect themselves from the heat, and those behind them grouped close to them as well. Many Orcs had tripped and fallen on the approach but were still trying to crawl towards them. He did not know how good the Orcs eyesight was but even if it was good they would be blinded.

Anton looked beyond the flame pillars, now slowly starting to die down, and saw what remained of the enemy army.

So many were dead. Anyone inside the pillars and those nearby were dead. Incinerated. Nothing remained of them. Anton guessed that over half the enemy was dead from that one attack. Part of him wondered what Conrad, and indeed everyone else, would think after they saw this destruction.

A few seconds passed as the fires began to flicker and die. The soldiers and mercenaries groaned as they began to see clearly again. Slowly they staggered up.

“What are you waiting for?!” Hemiskr bellowed. “Archers! Fire!”

The archers forced themselves alert, despite the still bright light, and fired a volley of arrows at the Orcs. They had just started to stand up themselves, receiving a volley of arrows and bolts at their unguarded forms. They did not have time to raise their shields and received most of the volley in the back.

“Shit...” Kal mumbled, rubbing furiously at her covered eyes.

The devastation was greater than even he thought. Shallow craters were now where the flame pillars once stood. The base of the hill was now a bubbling red mass. A hundred meters away from that were charred remains of people. They were only sticks, spindly black bony remains of what was once a human or an Orc. Flesh and fat had melted them together in twisted forms of excruciating pain. Beyond that were hundreds of wounded Orcs and Clansmen. They looked at each other in fear in disbelief as they desperately tried to make sense of the situation.

“Half of them are dead...” Kal said in a hushed whisper. “The rest...How?”

Anton collapsed deliberately onto his hip, Kal immediately moving and held his shoulders and prevented him from falling any further. The claws in the tips of her fingers could be felt through her cloth as she desperately held onto him.

“I...I...” Alfred stammered out. It seemed that Hemiskr could handle this destruction more easily than him.

He shook his head violently, looking at the right and left flank. Those had not been too badly affected by his magic. And the surviving Orcs and Clansmen were quickly rallying. Somehow. What looked like Orc leaders were shouting at the Clansmen to attack, though it was slow to have an affect. Many of the archers were being withdrawn from the center to bolster both sides. Nobody could perform such magic again, at least the enemy seemed to be what they were betting on.

The silvery head of Verona rose up from the mass of soldiers and looked back at him. She looked very angry.

“You could have told us that you were going to do that!”

“I didn't want to give it away.” he replied, looking either side to the continuing battle. “We're still not done yet.”

Verona looked towards the north and saw the Orcs and the surviving Clansmen driving up the hill towards the defenders. Reverberation of metal shields rang out through the air as the first Orc's axe struck.

“I'm on it.”

She ran with all her might, pushing past soldiers, and lept into the fray. Like with the Yellow Goblins siege she ran up the back of the soldiers and dove into the Orcs. He could just make out the looks of stupefaction on their faces as she plunged her spear into its face. A wild smile drew on her face as the Orc's face crumbled inwards. Before the next could react she had already withdrawn her spear and had drawn up even more blood. They formed into thin shards and threw them forward. Screams, and the odd cheer from the Qaiviel soldiers, followed.

She'll be fine. I hope.

He took one more glance over to her, seeing many shards driving down into the enemy.

That area will be fine. The center should still be fine....Just the flank to the East.

The defence lines to the east were not doing so well. Enemy forces there had not been stunned for long and were already battering down on the shield wall. Despite the dersperate thrusts of spears and swords, and the arrows that continued to storm into them, they continued their attack.

“Kal, you're with me.” he said, running towards the east.

He could just make out the sound of her feet over the cacophony of the battle.

“Anything I should be looking out for?” Kal asked as she nocked an arrow.

“Anyone that looks like a leader.” he replied, readying several lightning bombs. “We need their will to shatter. They'll be easy prey then.”

He glanced back to the horsemen. Alfred had not moved them so far, and the beasts seemed quite calm despite the blinding light just a few seconds ago. Their own horses were close to them, a soldier staring, stunned. He needed a Karak fruit if he was going to be any more help. However his legs were not moving that quickly.

“Kal, can you get me a Karak fruit?” he asked. “I can't move that fast...”

Kal nodded, ran to the horse and retrieved a fruit. The soldier barely noticed her presence. She handed it to him and bit down onto the sweet flesh. One fruit would not be enough to restore his magic entirely but enough to keep him fighting.

“I hope that Alfred will send the riders to hunt down anyone still fighting at the end.” he mumbled aloud. “Kal, take out anyone that looks like an officer or a leader."

“Right!” Kal exclaimed. She moved back to the highest point that she could find and surveyed the enemy.

Anton did not know what a high ranking Orc or Clansmen would look like but trusted Kal's knowledge and instincts. Very quickly, she drew back her bow and fired at an Orc. This one was slightly bigger than the rest and had a slightly better set of armour on him. Instead of jet back a few blues and orange adorned his armour. Her guess was as good as his when it came to hunting down the commanders.

Time to help out.

There was not much mana left in him, a tenth at most. However he still had enough mana to make one lightning bomb at a time and use that. His own recovery, and with the mana recovered from the fruit, seemed enough for him to continue fighting for some time.

He threw the first lightning bomb, two Orcs caught in the explosion. Now there was real fear on their faces. Now they knew that there was still more magic coming their way. Again and again he summoned up a lightning bomb and threw it at any enemy he could see.

Another arrow flew by, one launched from Kal, and struck a Clansmen leader in the neck. As he fell to the ground the Orcs and Clansmen visibly paled, their attacks loosing their ferocity and guidance.

Combined with the furious defence of the Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries the Orcs began to falter. Even the Clansmen were starting to loose their intensity and looking to flee.

A cry came out from behind. For a terrifying moment he thought that the lines were broken. Hemiskr and Alfred, on top of their horses, charged through a gap in the central defences. The soldiers stationed there cleared a path and the horses poured through. They split into two forces, one led by each man, and cut into the rear of the enemy force. It was only a hundred or so horsemen each side but it caused panic and fear.

The Orcs and Clansmen collapse became total now that they they knew they were completely surrounded. They tried to run as away but were cut down the moment they exposed their backs. Somebody yelled for them to surrender, Anton was not sure of the voice, but they began to drop their weapons. Many did not and continued to fight on. Even as their comrades fell like flies around them.

Anton readied another lightning bomb but the Orcs and Clansmen threw their hands up in surrender. The soldiers passed those that had surrendered and continued to attack those fleeing. Cheers resounded throughout their lines as the surrender spread.

A few minutes later everyone that was willing to surrender had. Everyone else was dead.

Anton could see the look of complete and utter resentment on their faces as they laid down their weapons. They knew they had been beaten badly, but not in a way thought possible. A mage, with magic that seemed impossible even to him, had beaten them. Not the army they had expected to find. Such a reversal, of a unilateral defeat, eluded their comprehension even now as they were herded together, the soldiers jabbing them with their weapons. Only when they were forced to sit together did it truly start to sink in.

The soldiers let out another cheer as the last survivor officially surrendered. There were almost a thousand that survived.

“Well.” a voice said, coming close to Anton. “Looks like I owe you an apology.”

It was Conrad. Some parts of his face were red from the heat of his magic. He, and everyone else, seemed relatively fine after being exposed to such a source of heat. A few days and they would be back to normal, though it would not impact on their fighting ability. Hopefully.

“Why's that?” Anton asked.

Conrad nodded to the line of burnt bodies at the base of the hill. Anton hummed, looking back to him.

“How much did Duchess Belinda pay for someone like you?”

Anton shrugged, though he held back a smile.

“Quite a bit.” he replied.

“Did you get, whatever that means, as part of your contract?” he asked, confusion palpable on his face.

“No. We just agreed to it. Nothing in paper yet. I don't think she'll try and back out though.”

Conrad still looked confused, like it was utterly incomprehensible that he would just agree without written words. Behind him he could see Verona approaching. She was covered in blood but her face was free from the red liquid. With a flick of her wrist the blood covering her body was drawn towards a small sphere infront of her. She took enough to fill a clay pot and let the rest fall onto the grass. As Verona walked past Conrad he gave her a wide berth.

“I did it!” she triumphantly exclaimed as came forward for a hug. “I was in a battle and didn't loose myself.”

She pulled him down and kissed him frantically. There was an excitement about her, one that he hoped was just from the battle and not from her power.

“Not even a bit.”

“I'm very proud of you.” Anton said, giving her a squeeze. Verona giggled in delight. To anyone hearing what he just said, and seeing the carnage she had caused, they would have been quite disturbed by his words.

Verona laughed and looked at Kal who was still surveying the north.

“Kal!” Kal turned around. “How many did you get?”

Kal took a final glance towards the north. There was nothing to the north, and he did not see anyone escape, though one might have.

“I'm not sure.” she replied, coming up to them. “I was told to get the leaders of the army.”

“How many?” Verona asked excitedly.

“I think about ten...Maybe fifteen. All commanders.”

Verona nodded and smiled. “Awesome."

She moved forward and gave Kal a light hug. Kal didn't try and resist.

Alfred and Hemiskr soon joined them. A mixture of exhaustion and surprise plastered over their faces as they looked at Anton.

“I'm glad that we brought you with us.” Alfred said, a wry smile on his face. “I'm even more glad that, when we first met, you didn't just burn down Maxill.”

He looked at the bottom of the hill. Smoke still emanated from the charred ground and spindly corpses.

“It seems that you wouldn't have much of an issue.”

“The Duchess did not pay enough for you.” Hemiskr said almost in awe. “I think you could make a mountain of gold by working for the Royals.”

“If I ever get that desperate for money, I might take that option.”

“What happens now?” Kal asked, looking towards the north. “A few of our people have died, but the main force is still heading north. They probably didn't even stop for the night.”

Alfred nodded, turning to Hemiskr and Conrad.

“Gather the men and get them ready to move by midday.”

Anton looked up towards the sun. That would be an hour or two at most. Everyone would need to get whatever rest they could spare. Both men nodded and moved to their soldiers. At hearing the news most soldiers visibly relaxed. There would be no forced march for a little while at least.

“What about the prisoners?” Anton asked.

Alfred looked to the hundreds of Orcs and Clansmen they had captured. The look of anger and ferocity, that they first saw, was completely gone. Only a handful of inattentive guards were watching them. Their will to fight on had been completely broken.

“Conrad?” Alfred shouted to the rapidly disappearing man, stopping and returning to him. “How many soldiers would we need to spare to keep these properly guarded?”

Conrad looked at the Orcs and Clansmen.

“As they're sitting there, right now, not many.” A frown formed on his face. “Though once they get their pride and confidence back, I'm not so sure how many we'll need. Too many taken away for this campaign of yours to succeed.”

“Understood.” Alfred mumbled.

The implication was clear was in his voice. They could not take them with them and to keep them as prisoners would take too much in the way of manpower and resources. The same thing that happened at Maxill was about to happen now.

Anton looked over at the prisoners. They did not even bother to look up at anyone. He could not help but feel pity for them. But, he did not deal with food supply or handling of prisoners. He did not know how much food they actually had with them.

“They didn't show any mercy to the villagers.” Alfred said. “We would have been killed like those poor people.”

“Sounds about right for them.” Conrad turned to the prisoners. “Clansmen don't give out much mercy....The Orcs though...These aren't the same as they...Oh well. We'll handle this. No need to bloody your hand. Not the first time we've had to deal with something...difficult like this.”

He jerked his head towards the prisoners, brandishing a short sword. The mercenaries of his company followed behind.

Verona groaned and turned Anton away from the scene, quickly nestling herself in his arms so she wouldn't have to see. Despite her carving her way through the screaming mass of Orcs and Clansmen, killing those that wanted to kill her, she was having trouble with this. She used his hands to cover her ears while she closed her eyes.

I suppose there's a difference. Though...I don't feel that bad about it. Perhaps just a little...upset. We had gotten them to surrender. It feels, wrong.

He glanced over, seeing the prisoners tensing in fear. Something in him told him to look away. Kal was watching but turned away at the same time as him. She looked away as well as folded her arms in a huff. He could hear her breathing heavily as she moved closer. Though she seemed more comfortable with it than quite a few of the Qaiviel soldiers.

The screams carried on for some time, and then the deed was done. He glanced over, just to make sure, and saw the bodies dead and slumped over. Conrad and his company seemed completely unphased by what they had just done. How often did they do something like this? Was this the reason why their Company was meant to have diminished over the years?

“Job's done.” Conrad said, wiping the blood off his blade. “I'll go tell the rest of the Company to get some rest.”

He turned to leave, stopping and looking back at them. “I think all of you should as well.”

“He's right.” Alfred said. “I'm going to check on the soldiers. You, Anton, should definitely get some rest. Everyone's going to be talking about this for a long time.”

A warm smiled grew on his face. “You're going to be quite famous after this. A Grand Mage...You'll definitely be getting hundreds of proposals once they find out it's the truth. They'll be throwing themselves at you. You could probably marry the Queen's daughter if you tried.”

Verona, still in his arms, growled at Alfred. Out the corner of his eye he even saw that Kal's body looked quite angry. Her fingers gripped tightly into fists as she held them rigid by her side. Alfred chuckled and moved away without another word.

Verona sighed and freed herself from his embrace. She glanced over at the dead prisoners, sighing and shaking her head.

“I suppose it's war...”

“Have you never seen something like this before?” Kal asked quietly, moving very close to them.

“No.” Verona said quietly.

“I don't think so...Apart from what happened in the mountain.”

Kal sighed. “These things happen in war. All the time. Quite a few things that I used were taken from dead peasants, after a group of bandits or fighting armies moved through an area.”

She looked at the dead prisoners again.

“Better not think too much about it. We've got a lot more fighting to do.”

---------------------

Hello!

Second big battle and the enemy is wiped out. Anton's magic is a bit overwhelming, but Alfred hinted at how most people deal with powerful mages, like killing them by stealth. Something to look out for.

Realities of war, like not being able to keep prisoners, crop up. It's...just one of those things.

That's it.

Thanks for reading, and any and all donations!

Chapter 055 - Into the Heart

Chapter 055:

Two days had passed in realtive peace since the battle at the Gravestone. Now they were closing in on the Border Forts. They marched from dawn till dusk and covered substantial ground. Endless grasslands, and an occasional small forest, continued to greet them as they hurried across the wind swept lands. Only the looming mountain range in the north, the border with the Deweth Clans, told them that they were getting close. The air was becoming noticeably more cool and the vegetation was starting to reflect the change. Becoming more suitable to cold and frost.

After the Orcs and Clansmen attack had been defeat he expected them to rush to the Border Forts to try to finish their assault before they could intercept them. Alfred, Hemiskr and Conrad agreed with this sentiment. Though it seemed that the enemy force was spiralling out of control.

They had come across four villages and five hamlets, completely razed to the ground. Everything was blackened and burned, all destroyed well before their arrival. Now though there were Clansmen amongst the Orcs in the villages. Only a few hundred enemies were in each village and hamlet, but enough to slow them down every time they came across them. They no longer were disorganised and charging wildly against them.

The Clansmen had enforced some sort of grim order amongst their combined forces. They kept their lines tight, shields raised and used everything they could against them. Even using captured villagers as human shields. He did not know if they knew of just how much magical power he could unleash but human shields were always an effective strategy. If heartless and cruel. Anton used his lightning magic to stun the captors, the army charged forward and crushed the enemy in the confusion.

But their efforts were working. Kal told them that they were getting further and further behind, the trails of the enemy were becoming older each time they resumed the chase. They could have bypassed the villages, and left them to their fate, but they couldn't.

Spending time to save each village and hamlet was not a wasted effort. Beyond a moral one. Their army had swelled with each victory. Despite the army passing through, quite a few villagers and peasants had survived. A very brave man, nowhere to be seen, had ridden from village to village to warn them of what was coming. Many took the warning seriously and hid, others remained and were slaughtered. Those that survived joined them without a moments hesitation. Now they had almost five thousand soldiers to their name. He knew that it would be nothing compared to the fifty odd thousand enemy, especially since many of their new soldiers were equipped with barely the most basic weapon; mostly a motley gathering of farming equipment and quite a few with hunting bows. It was better than nothing.

A little before lunch, and while they continued their brisk march towards the border forts, he saw a tiny wisp of smoke slowly starting to rise into the sky. Everyone else saw it as well. He could feel the sense of dread, of failure, coming from the soldiers beside him. After all their effort, of the blood and deaths, it seemed that they had failed.

“That doesn't seem right.” A voice came from behind him.

Conrad, leader of the White Dog Company, was a few horse lengths behind him.

“What do you mean?” Anton asked.

He did not want to say aloud what everyone around him was thinking. That could completely crush their morale. Not that it wasn't already flaging. Conrad whipped at the reins lightly, bringing him alongside Anton. Verona and Kal, on the other side, looked over at him. He glimpsed at Kal resting her hand on the hilt of her daggers.

“That's not where the Border Forts are.” he said, pointing closer to the mountain range past the smoke trail.

“So what are they attacking?” Verona asked. “If it's not the Border Forts....”

Something clicked over her face.

“The forts don't grow their own food, or make their supplies do they? Armour, swords arrows and the like?”

Conrad smiled lightly.

“They do not indeed...Lady Verona. It all needs to be brought in, they need resources to work with.”

Verona hummed happily at being addressed in such a manner, Kal cocked her head in confusion.

“So.” Verona continued. “They could really do some damage to the Forts if they attack where they get their supplies."

“But surely the forts would have some stores in case that were to happen.” Kal said, looking towards the mountain. “I doubt the Qaiviel Kingdom would be that stupid to allow that to happen.”

Conrad nodded again. “They do. But, it would still cause them considerable harm. Then if these Orcs and Clansmen attacked in force they would not have anywhere to get reinforcements. The whole defence could crumble. Doubly so since...”

“Since what?”

Conrad sighed. “Most of the nobles that live out here are not that....Noble? They make Duchess Belinda, of old, look good. The latest one, I forget his name, Governor Eilis, that's his name. He's taking a good portion of the money that's meant to be used for the defence of the kingdom for himself. Built this ridiculous mansion in the centre of the city. The defenders don't have much of a say in things, even the Knights can't do much against it without proof. He's very good at that."

“This whole place seems to be choking on corruption.” Anton shook his head. “So, why hasn't it fallen?”

“Because the soldiers fight on. Spilling their blood and lives in the defence. Regardless of what their idiotic rulers do.” Conrad was getting quite angry with every word. Such anger was personal and came from deep within.“It's only by their blood and corpses that the Clansmen haven't already overrun this land. That's why I fight for money. A much better ending for me.”

“What about those Knight Orders?” Verona asked. "Why would they put up with it?"

Kal nodded in agreement. “They sound like they're a bit different.”

Conrad's attitude mellowed slightly. “They get their gold from the King himself, so nobody can take their 'due share' along the way. .”

“So, is this supply city undefended?” Anton asked. “Surely the corrupt people wouldn't let it fall, they'd die too.”

“It is defended. Quite well in fact.” Conrad replied. “But, if what I've heard from Alfred is right, fifty thousand Orcs and Clansmen could probably breach the walls. They've got high walls and strong defences, but everyone's expecting the attackers to have to fight their way through the forts and not come from behind. I doubt they'd be looking very hard, especially if the warning didn't get through.”

Alfred approached, turning away from the front of the column of soldiers. His face was tired and worried, an undercurrent of fear underneath his face. Anton briefly wondered if he was worrying about Duchess Belinda's wrath if she found out they had failed.

“You see that...” Alfred said as he brought his horse next to them.

“Hard not to.” Anton said dryly, eliciting almost a smirk from Alfred.

“Well, it looks like they're not going after the forts at least.”

“They haven't lost that many soldiers.” Anton added.

Conrad grunted. “They aren't going to take the forts easily with that many tired soldiers. Maybe one, but not enough to make a difference to an invasion from the north. They're too tired to make those walls. They've been pushed very hard to get where they are.”

“And so have we.” Alfred lamented.

“True.” Conrad added.

“So, that means they're heading for Nonbu'rn.” Alfred said as he looked at the pillar of smoke. It seemed to be growing in size, and new sources of smoke were beginning to emerge to join the rising column.

“Do you have a map with you?” Anton asked. “I don't know where that is."

Alfred reached into a small bag, attached to his horse's saddle, and brought out a map. He unfurled it and passed it to him, moving closer so he could point. Anton lowered it so that Verona and Kal could see as well.

Alfred pointed to a small marker below the line of square boxes that represented the Border Forts. There were two of them, roughly equally spaced from the forts and each other. Underneath the most eastern marker, the side they were approaching the forts from, was the name Nonbu'rn.

“That's the city that they'll be attacking.” Alfred said as he looked forward again.

A cry rang out from the front as Hemiskr yelled at the soldiers to pick up the pace into a fast jog. They needed little encouragement to find an extra burst of speed.

“This city only provides for half of the Forts, but if they destroy the city the Forts on this side could be seriously weakened. If they push their whole army through there they'll just punch right through.”

“What sort of defences does this place have?” Anton asked.

“Large walls, and a decent city watch. But it won't be enough to hold them off for long.”

Anton took another look at the map, transferring what he could to memory, and handed it back.

“We'd better get moving.”

“You three.” Alfred pointed towards Anton, Verona and Kal. “Ride ahead and see what you can do about slowing down their assault. Conrad, I need riders to go to the forts and explain what's happening.”

“Do you want them to send reinforcements?”

Alfred stopped and thought deeply. It was some time before he answered, finally shaking his head.

“Tell them....Tell them what's happening and to send soldiers only if they truly think they can spare them. Remember, there's still a good chance that there'll be an attack of the forts very soon. Perhaps even today at the earliest.”

“On it.” Conrad bowed his head. “I'll send my fastest riders.”

“Good luck.” Alfred said, as Anton and Verona brought their horses to a full run.

---[]---

It was nearly half an hour later of before they saw the city. The flat grasslands began to rise and crested, now they could see the city of Nonbu'rn a few kilometres away.

The city was clearly larger than Maxill, possibly three or four times larger. Thick and tall stone walls surrounded the city. In peace time it would have been quite a bustling city, judging from the crops and small workshops that surrounded the walls. A city that they could have bought any number of important items from.

Smoke and bursts of flame poured out of the city. A giant hole had somehow been blasted through the stone wall. Outside he could see thousands of Orcs and Clansmen still waiting to pour into the city. There were quite a few lying dead in the grass before the mass of Orcs and Clansmen. Who knew how many were already inside causing havoc.

“They're in a lot of trouble.” Verona mumbled.

Anton could not help but agree. The city was on fire and in serious trouble, but he could see some white and green soldiers still fighting from the top of the wall. They were throwing whatever they could at the invaders. Valiant, but it was little in comparison to the invading horde.

“They fight on still.” he said, turning to them. “We'll do as much damage as we can. I want you two to hang back while I use my magic. I don't want you swarmed by thousands of them.”

Verona and Kal nodded. Verona began to glow and drew up some blood that she had collected from him earlier. She kept in a small sphere above her, still in its liquid form. Taking a deep breath, which only served to increase his worry and fear, he brought the horse into a full gallop.

They did not cry out as they approached, not wanting to alert the enemy and force them into the city to run away. It was the waiting that bothered him the most as they crept up on the enemy. He was well out of his magical range when they first spotted them. The waiting Orcs and Clansmen erupted in a flurry of movement. For a brief moment he feared that they were all about to turn around and charge right at him. Instead they began to push themselves into the city.

There must have been a scout watching that battle at the Gravestone. They wouldn't have just run away if they saw three people coming at them. Such a story would have certainly spread amongst the camp. I doubt they would know what I look like but they know that that army is now closing in on them. So...they're going to hide amongst the civilians again.

A few Clansmen horsemen broke off from the rear of the army and charged towards them. Even their horses looked huge and powerful. There were over a hundred of them, more than enough to kill three normal riders, but they were not exactly normal. Anton readied some fire bombs and summoned them above him. When the Clansmen horsemen saw this those at the back immediately turned around, taking nearly a third away. Anton readied to throw the fire bombs forwards when he heard a faint twang coming from his side.

Kal, pushing Verona to one side, fired an arrow over her shoulder.

I didn't know you could do that...

The arrow struck the lead horse in the face. A torrent of bestial screams erupted as the horse tumbled and brought many other clansmen down with them. Refocusing himself at the enemies infront he threw the fire bombs forward. Horses and men screamed as the fire engulfed their bodies.

It's not like I'm killing innocent civilians or those that are trying to surrender. You are trying to attack us.

He formed as many as he needed to blunt the attack, Kal letting loose another arrow.

I just hope it was quick.

They moved around the dying bodies before turning to the mass of Orcs and Clansmen. Seeing the small display of magic had brought them to a terrified panic. They clambered over one another to force their way through the breach. It seemed that over half of the enemy, that had still been waiting outside, had already entered the city. How many were already inside he had no idea.

The cities defenders were not so stunned. While he was certain that they had no idea as to who they were, they were smart enough to realise that they were on their side. Now that he was close enough he could see them firing arrows and even dropping large rocks onto the enemy below. The Orcs and Clansmen's overall lack of ranged weapons was becoming a serious liability.

Anton summoned larger fire bombs and threw them at the rear of the enemy army. Screams and shouts of panic filled the air as they were burned alive.

“What about the flame pillar things?” Verona asked, wincing as Kal loosed another arrow past her head. “I don't think it'll burn the city down.”

“I think just one for now.” Anton said, getting a weak smile from Verona.

She certainly did not want to be blinded by the flame again. Just one pillar would not do that, nor damage the walls.

He formed a single fire ring in his mind and threw it into the rear of the enemy mass. The ground burst into light, a few looked down in surprise, before flames burst out of the ground. It was not as powerful or bright as the tethered pillars at the Gravestone but it was nothing to sneer at. Those inside the pillar were vaporised in a brief scream, and those nearby were drawn upwards by the draft of the fire. They flew up hundreds of meters, burning all the while, before being thrown out and smashing onto the ground.

With an oddly satisfying crunch they slammed into the ground, their bones breaking and limbs twisting in unnatural ways. There was no chance they could survive from such a height. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies landed around them. Many landed onto the live enemy, terrifying them further seeing their burning comrades crashing onto their heads.

The flame pillar began to die down. And now they could see him clearly. The enemy tried even more desperately to enter the city as the cities defenders fought even harder seeing that the enemy was utterly terrified.

Anton continued to throw fire bombs, and the occasional lightning bolt, into the crowd. Occasionally a group would part and try to attack him. They were quickly dispatched by Anton, and Verona's magic when they got too close, Kal continuing to help as best she could.

By the time the last enemy had entered the city Anton had no idea as to how many people he had killed. Several hundred easily, though he was a little concerned that Stratos was not going to be getting much mana from this whole fight.

Now that they're inside fire will just burn down the whole city. Guess Stratos might be getting his turn now.

A few minutes later horn resounded out from behind them. Coming down the slight hill was the rest of their army, their horsemen . They had ran very hard. Anton tried his best to wave them over, even though that he knew they would only be able to make out a tiny dot vaguely moving.

“Who are you?” a voice shouted from the wall.

It was one of the defenders, her white and green uniform tattered and dirty as she leant over the wall. All the defenders were clearly exhausted from the fight. However her attention was mostly focused behind her into the city, where the sounds of fighting still continued.

This might be a good idea to drop Duchess Belinda's name.

“We fight for Duchess Belinda.” he shouted to her, getting an odd and doubtful look in return. “We've come to aid you in this fight.”

He saw her shoulder droop in a sigh, he could not hear anything over the growing shouts coming from within.

“Well, thanks for that.” she pointed to the piles of charred dead bodies near the breach. “But they're already inside and killing everyone....And each other.”

Kal let out a noise of surprise.

Guess that their little alliance has broken down.

Anton heard the sounds of horses running from behind. Alfred, Hemiskr and Conrad came up, the soldiers running to join them.

“What's the situation?” Alfred asked, bringing his horse to a halt. He was short of breath.

Anton gestured to the dead Orcs and Clansmen. That was evidence enough.

“Right.” Alfred looked up at the Qaiviel soldiers on the wall. “We fight in the name of Duchess Belinda to save this city.”

The woman chuckled. “Well, come on in. We can't hold it by ourselves.”

She turned around and started yelling at the other soldiers. They started throwing and shooting at the other side, the battle was continuing while they talked.

Alfred turned around to face their army.

“Men and Women of Qaiviel! The enemy are caught in this city, but are not yet beaten. Today we will end their threat!”

A few cheers emenated from their side. He nodded to Hemiskr and Conrad, and they advanced into the city.

---[]---

The soldiers began to spread out into the sprawling mess of streets of Nonbu'rn. Anton had not been to a surviving medieval city on Earth, but he remembered that there was no overall planning involved when these cities were built. Buildings were built wherever they could fit them in, making the streets widen and shrink randomly. A confusing and winding mess. This city was no different. From the breach in the wall he could make out at least a dozen places they could have travelled, there were none waiting to fight them off. The battle had already moved on.

Everywhere they looked they could see dead civilians, Qaiviel soldiers and Clansmen and Orc warriors. It was becoming less of a battle and a frenzied fight for survival. The female Qaiviel soldier, and a hundred odd soldiers from each side of the breach in the wall, came down to meet them.

“Where are they?” Anton asked the Qaiviel guard.

“They split up and headed deeper into the city. They fought their way through our soldiers...Most of them looked like they were heading towards the center.”

“That means we'll be the ones hunting then.” Conrad said with a light smile.

“Most of the soldiers should go with someone else.” Anton said. “There's still tens of thousands of these-”

A roar came from the left of the breech. Nearly two hundred Orcs and Clansmen emerged. They were covered in blood and had a crazed battle frenzy in their eyes. Without a moments hesitation they charged straight towards them, bloody weapons raised to strike at them.

Verona dashed to the front as she reformed the blood into tiny shards, Anton threw a few lightning bolts around her. Those that made it to Verona were quickly dispatched in a flurry of red shards. Everyone there was stunned by what they saw, especially the city soldiers.

Verona chuckled as she withdrew her crystal shards. A shiver ran through her body, though she held it under control. She took another deep breath and turned towards him, a beaming smile.

“A few less now.” she said smugly, returning to his side.

“I....” the female soldier trailed off.

“You said that most of them were heading towards the center.” Anton began, catching the soldier's attention. “What's there?”

“Governor Eilis's mansion.” she replied. “It's the largest building in the city, it stands where the first fort stood. It's quite big and has another stone wall...”

A thought dawned on her face. “If they get in there it'll take a lot to get them out.”

Anton looked towards the center of the city. That was where most of the smoke was coming from.

“Hopefully they've headed that way. We'll head there and try and rescue as many Qaiviel soldiers we can.”

“We'll split up then.” Alfred began. “These narrows streets will lessen the influence of their overwhelming numbers. However, we should still stay close together to assist one another in case something happens.”

“Right.” Anton said, looking towards the center.

“I guess that you want me to join you?” the female soldier asked.

Hemiskr smiled. "Every sword and bow helps.”

Anton led a few soldiers and mercenaries towards the centre, while Alfred and Hemiskr went to the right and Conrad to the left, taking most of the soldiers with them. He felt that they could better use the soldiers than he could, he also had Verona and Kal to help him if anything went bad.

Slowly they advanced through the corpse strewn and abandoned streets. Sounds of continuing battles rang out in the distance. Most of the bodies were of dead civilians and Qaiviel soldiers, but an increasing number were of Orcs and Clansmen. Kal kept them moving at a cautious pace, and made sure that they were always glancing up in case of an ambush from above.

The further they went the more the streets were filled with bodies. Blood ran through the gaps of the stones like a river. Verona scrunched her eyes tight but continued as best she could. Noises came from the buildings either side. For a moment Anton thought it was going to be an ambush, but a quick glance revealed frightened eyes peering through. When they made contact they darted away. The civilians of Nonbu'rn were hiding in desperation. Anton let them hide in peace.

Finally they found the first group of Orcs and Clansmen. A large group of a few hundred. They were pressing forward into an alcove formed by the randomly placed buildings. While they could not see what they were fighting, they could hear the sounds of fighting.

Probably a group of Qaiviel soldiers still fighting on.

“Hey!” Verona shouted, reforming the blood into long crystal shards.

A few looked towards the shout, their faces instantly draining of all colour.

“Run! It's them!” one yelled out.

A few started to run, quickly cut down by a rain of arrows, led by Kal. The rest heard and diverted to attack them. A flurry of lightning bolts, crystal blood shards and arrows brought them down.

His assumption was correct. Forty odd battered Qaiviel soldiers stood in a close shield wall, though going by their trembling hands and faces they were not going to last much longer.

“Who...?” one asked, his face relaxing when he saw the white and green of the other soldiers with them.

“How many more fight on?” Anton asked.

There was no time to have a long conversation with each group they rescued. A roar came from the adjacent street. A few clangs of iron rang out, but then was quickly silenced.

“A few...We banded together and did our best to fight them off.”

“Fall in with us.” Verona said, waving backwards to the soldiers behind them. “We're heading deeper into the city. Were they heading towards the center?”

The soldiers stared blankly at her. Her red glowing eyes and body had brought them to a halt. Anton snapped his fingers to break them out of it.

“Yes.” he replied in a shout. “They passed us by and carried on towards the Governor's Mansion.”

“Start moving again.” Anton said, the rescued soldiers moving to the back.

They rescued another three groups of soldiers, each being larger in number and less wounded than the previous, and an occasional lone soldier. No soldiers had been lost when an inner wall came into view through the sprawling wooden buildings.

This wall was only slightly smaller than the tallest building and built like it was a genuine defence. This was meant to be a fort at the beginning. The inner wall of a layered defence. However, many bodies, Qaiviel, Orc and Clansmen, littered the ground below and slumped over the wall.

Kal went forward, waving the rest of them forward. “There's still fighting inside.”

He could hear the clanging of metal and shouting coming from within. As it was a genuine defensive wall there was no stairs or ramp on the outside to allow them onto the top. The dead bodies on the top, seemingly not killed by arrows, had been hacked to pieces.

“How did they get up there?” Anton asked, looking towards the south.

From the buildings to the south, Conrad and his forces emerged. They were bloodied but looked like they were ready for more. A momentary look of anger flickered over their faces until they realised they were friendly. Conrad gave them a wave and led his soldiers to them.

“Found quite a bunch of both.” Conrad said, blood covering his face. “The Clansmen fight really well, the Orcs are more of a mob than an army. I wished the Orc clans of old fought this badly. How many did you get?”

Anton shrugged, looking back to the wall.

“No idea. Quite a few I imagine. Though, it seems that they've already got inside.”

“Damn.” Conrad groaned. “Can you just make a hole in the wall?”

“I could. I don't want to damage the defences. But, what made the hole in the first wall?”

Conrad didn't have an answer, neither did anyone else. It reminded him of what the Yellow Goblin commander and its magic; a white ball of magic that destroyed the northern gate of Atros, the gate that was heavily reinforced and blew the hinges apart like it was wet paper. If there was more power to it it could break through a stone wall. Though he knew that line of thought was not going to get them anywhere. He shook his head and tried to find a gate.

Kal pulled harshly on his shirt, pointing to the north. Far away, lying against the wall, was a collapsed wooden building. The crumpled and destroyed remains of wood made a rough pathway to the top of the wall.

“How'd they bring that down?” Anton asked aloud.

They did not have an answer. If it was the same magic that brought down the wall...

A moment later Alfred and Hemiskr emerged between them and the collapsed building. They looked a little worse than Conrad and his soldiers. There also seemed to be a lot more soldiers with him than before. More than Anton or Conrad's group.

Alfred followed his sight and looked at the destroyed building against the wall, letting out a gasp of surprise.

“Anton.” he shouted back. “Can you get up and fight from there?”

“Yep.” Anton said.

The building was strangely solid underneath his feet. It took them a while but they reached the top, the last section requiring a jump up, and looked along the wall. There were hundreds of dead Qaiviel soldiers, they appeared to have died fighting the Orcs and Clansmen that climbed up the destroyed building. Many of the dead enemy had arrows and bolts sticking out of them. The defenders were prepared for fighting at range but not in melee. More bodies were strewn along the ramps down to the ground on the inside.

Inside the wall the fighting continued. The Qaiviel soldiers fought in close groups against a surge of Orcs and Clansmen running into the mansion. The Governors Mansion was several times larger than the mansion Duchess Belinda had, though it was made from wood rather than stone. It was clear that there was once many windows on the mansion, though these were now smashed out. The few archers they had took up position there and shot out.

Anton did not bother to try and shout out first, letting loose lightning bolts at the Orcs and Clansmen. As the first twisting and writhing bolt exploded an enemy, the Qaiviel soldiers took heart and increased the fury of their attacks. Some cried out reverance for the Holy Father but all seemed relieved. The Orcs and Clansmen retreated into the mansion, quickly forming barricades against the Qaiviel soldiers.

“Retreat to the wall!” Alfred shouted out, having just made it up to them. Many other Qaiviel soldiers poured onto the wall as well.

The Qaiviel soldiers on the ground looked to the source. As they realised who it was they began to pull back. Anton took the time to survey the area. From his position Anton could see several small gates that lead into this area. One, past the destroyed building, looked to be completely blown in, the metal bars forming the gate thrown about like match sticks.

“I wonder who could do that?” Anton mumbled, throwing out another lightning bolt.

“I don't want to know.” Verona replied. “Looks like that Yellow Goblin Commander thing did it.”

“That it does.”

The surviving Qaiviel soldiers massed at the bottom of the wall, no longer looking as afraid.

“Secure the wall!” Alfred yelled down.

“Are we not going to take back the mansion?” one soldier yelled back.

“Not yet. We need to take back the city and help anyone else still fighting. We'll make sure they don't get out.”

Dubious looks greeted them, but they agreed with the orders, quickly filing out. Alfred turned to Anton.

“Can you keep an eye on the enemy for now? Make sure that they stay in there. We need to retake the rest of the city before we move on them.”

“Not a problem.” Anton replied. “They won't get past us.”

“Is there anyone alive in there?” Verona asked. “Like...servants? Or the Governor?”

Alfred shrugged. “If they're still there, then there's little we can do for them. Besides...One noble's life is not worth loosing this invasion.”

Kal grumbled something but did not elaborate.

“I'll make sure that Hemiskr and Conrad keep soldiers on the wall to keep an eye on the other side while we search the city.”

He gave a wave, the two seemingly understanding straight away, and their soldiers began to spread out along the wall. Anton turned to watch the mansion seeing the hurried movement within.

What's your plan now?

---[]---

Over the next silent and uneventful hour control of the outer sections of the city was quickly established. Many Qaiviel soldiers, and quite a few militia style forces, had survived by barricading themselves into small defensible areas or had simply been passed by. Those on the north had suffered very little in comparison, where the Orcs and Clansmen had no coordination and had been left to their own devices. Many of the soldiers on the north survived. Now that it was clear there was an organised defence they quickly rallied to the cause. Nearly nine thousand soldiers now manned the inner wall, keeping a keen watch on the remaining enemy squeezed into the giant mansion.

According to the survivors most of the enemy had made their way into the mansion. There were so many bodies throughout the city that he had no idea how many were left. Whatever their initial army was it had been whittled away in the narrows streets. Still, the mansion looked very crowded.

He hoped that they would just surrender so they could go home. He wanted to sleep in his own bed again.

Alfred and Hemiskr had all the soldiers brought to the wall and took up positions, their green and white uniforms as clean as possible in a show of defiance and force. Anton wondered briefly why each of these Qaiviel cities seemed to have an inner and outer wall. He reserved that question for later.

“What's going on through their heads?” Anton said aloud, catching Verona and Kal's attention. “They've lost so many people already, and now they're boxed in...What was their plan coming here? I'm guessing it...”

Kal looked back at the city surrounding the Governors mansion. It was still smoking from the fires, fires that Anton had not lit. Some were still raging  across the city. The intensity was beginning to die down, replaced by an increasing blanket of smoke.

“To burn the city down...But.” Kal said, shaking her head. “But...now they've lost so many and now they're trapped. They're running out of ideas and actions. They can't do anything.”

“What would you do?” Anton asked.

Kal turned and looked at him in silence for some time. He did not mean it in the way he felt she was taking it.

“Either they can charge out and die, or they can surrender. That's all they can do now.”

“True.” Verona nodded, looking towards the mansion. “They're stuck in there. Now they've got lots of time to think about what to do next. They might come up with something.”

“Let's not give them that chance.”

Anton moved to the other side of the wall and shouted to gain the attention of the soldiers that were looking after the horses, to get the small bag containing the Karak fruit and bring it up to him. He had most of his reserves of mana but he did not want to take any chances. And this seemed that it would be one of the final battles for him in Qaiviel. Perhaps there would be another at the Border Forts, but this was not the time to be too frugal.

The solider quickly ran up to him, up the collapsed building. Anton gave him a thanks and took a fruit. Every bite filled his mouth with the soft and sweet flesh. His mana started to recover greatly with each bite. He attatched the half empty bag to his waist. He turned and offered one to Verona. However, she shook her head.

“I haven't had to use my power that much.” she said, a smile on her face. “I'm still fine.”

“Do you want one, just in case?”

Verona hesitated before taking one. Now Anton had two left, enough to see him through this fight. He hoped.

“You're right. You never know when something like this'll be needed.”

Anton gave her a quick pat on the head, letting out a cute whimper, before turning her attention back to the mansion. The mansion was very lavishly built and had many glass windows. Nearly all of them were broken, a clear line of sight through which he could see rapid movement.

Making glass like that would surely cost a fortune....I think. It looks like the Governor's trying to show off his wealth. I'm not actually sure how glass like that is made here. Another question...

Alfred moved past the waiting soldiers and next to him.

“We've got everyone in position. Can you deal with anyone that tries to escape?”

“Only if they're in my range.” Anton replied. “But, we can get down to our horses pretty quickly. Are you going to try and get their surrender?”

Alfred nodded.

“There's still so many of them inside. I don't want to have to fight that many Orcs or Clansmen. If we can get them to surrender without having to fight...We might even be able to get something in return for the safe release. We're close enough to their lands for this to work.”

“Wonder what that would be?”

Alfred chuckled, a thin smile forming on his mouth.

“Gold would be a good start. Enough gold to cover what damage they have done.”

“So long as it helps me in the long run, I'm fine with it.”

Alfred smiled again. “I guess we'll see if they're willing to be cooperative. Please wait up here.”

Alfred walked down to the ground, many heavily armoured soldiers with large shields went with him for security. They held their heavy shields around Alfred. He didn't get very close before he began to speak.

“I am Alfred, servant of her grace, Duchess Belinda.” Alfred bellowed out to the mansion. Anton was surprised by the volume he could create. “You are surrounded, cut off from whatever plan you hoped to accomplish.”

There was some movement, many faces glancing around the broken windows and any opening. Yet no sound came back. They were waiting on his words.

“We have a Fire and Lightning Grand Mage on our side, one you're quite familiar with. And a Blood Berserker. If you do not surrender, we will burn the mansion you are hiding in, with you and whomever you have held hostage in there. This is your only chance at survival. Surrender, and save your lives."

Still no noise came back. The faces that he could see looked terrified. They took the threat seriously.

“Does he really mean that?” Verona asked. “If they don't give up...they'll be burned alive. Would you do that?”

“I think it's just a bit of a threat.” Anton replied. “If he doesn't threaten them, and play on their fears, they might not give up.”

Verona hummed as she looked at the mansion. Still nothing happened.

“Anton.” Alfred said back to him. “Throw a fireball at them.”

He formed a small fireball and threw it at the base of the mansion. It landed on the wooden debris outside and burst into flame. He did not want to burn the mansion down yet, but hoped that the smoke would convince them that they were deadly serious.

Time passed, Alfred waiting patiently.

How long is he going to wait? Has he done this before?

“Something's happening.” Kal said.

Anton focused as hard as he could, he could hear something like shouting coming from the top of the building. It grew louder and louder.

A window near the source, one of the few still intact, exploded in a white flash. A body fell out. A Clansmen. He fell three stories before landing back first onto an orning on the first floor, rolling lifelessly onto the ground. The Qaiviel soldiers were stunned.

Slowly further shouts grew from within, but they were not like before. These were to fight. Something travelled through the faces that he could see peering out. They went from fear to anger in a few seconds.

“I don't think your negotiations going to work, Alfred.”

Alfred grumbled, waving to Hemiskr and Conrad.

“No it does not. Everyone, prepare for battle!”

-------------

Hello!

Brought the fight to the enemy, even though they're spiralling out of control. Now they're surrounded and going to fight their way out.

Next chap will be from the other side, a few moments before the explosion.

Thanks for reading. And any and all Donations!

Chapter 056 - Charmed

Chapter 056:

Ivano could barely contain his anger. His anger or his fear. Copious amounts of sweat poured down his face as he hugged the edge of the broken window. Outside he could see the large space between them and the wall, filled with the bodies of their own and the enemy. The Qaiviel soldiers stood resolute on the wall, shields and weapons barred, and stared back at them. Staring like a cornered rat. Which, they were.

The sun light bounced through a fragment of glass jutting out of the window's frame. A brief flicker of his thoughts went to how expensive such a large and smooth piece of glass would have been to make. More than everything in his home, himself included. Thinking about that warm place, with his family, the cold snow, delicious fish and game, made him long for home. Another shout from behind broke his thought.

Zig was pacing uncontrollably on the floor, his boots thumping on the soft white carpet of the Governors quarters. Ivano had expected to find the Governor, or someone of high status or rank within, but only found lowly servants. They had been ejected soon after they stormed the building, but the lack of anyone high born was a little unsettling. If they had one they might be able to trade their way out. Or at the very least, buy themselves a little more time.

Brenna, sitting on an impossibly expensive wooden table that formed the centre of the room, was trying her utmost to try and calm the Orc. For what little it did. It only seeming to make him even more agitated and panicked. Snakha, the murderous Orc he had met before the Maxill assault, sat in the large and ornate Governor's chair. Judging from Zig's attitude towards him, he seemed to be the second highest ranked Orc left in the army. He seemed quite comfortable there, the axe he killed a fellow Orc over resting on his legs. Nothing on his face gave away anything to how much trouble they were in. Ivano thought that the other leader Orcs, that Zig had brought with him into the tent, would attend. Snakha had told him that they had died in the skirmishes in the city, though refused to elaborate on exactly how they died. Memories of what he did to claim that axe came back.

Does he actually care at all? Or, is he like one of those people that actually believes they go somewhere after they die...Or maybe he just doesn't care, and is only in this for a good fight. These damn Orcs...

“It's all gone so wrong.” Zig finally muttered weakly, stopping his pacing near the door.

“Yes it has.” Ivano replied.

“What happened? We....”

“The Grand Fire Mage.” Brenna said, “Took out the army we sent. Then everyone...” she focused on Zig, sweat pouring off his face under her scrutiny. “Refused to turn around and launch an immediate attack on them, while they recovered. Using waves and dispersed-”

“It doesn't matter any more.” Ivano cut in, Brenna lowering her head in respect.

“Doesn't matter?” Zig asked angrily.

“Not like that.” Ivano assured him as best he could.

“So...” Snakha began, leaning forward and getting too close for Brenna's liking. “What do we do now?”

Silence filled the room. Screams and groans of the dying Orcs and Clansmen flooded through the empty air.

“I don't know.” Ivano replied. “I don't know.”

Snakha grumbled, but seemed content with his answer as he lent back into the creaking chair. He seemed quite content and started to peer through the things left behind in the desk. Zig was not happy. Something seemed to have snapped in his mind.

“You don't know?” he asked, moving close to Ivano. “Then why do you think you are in command?!”

Ivano slammed his fist into the wood, a dull reverberation travelling through the air.

“Because if you, you stupid Orc, had been put in charge, we would have spent all our time raiding little villages and hamlets throughout the countryside. Which you did, anyway, after I, very clearly, told you not to.”

“I am in command of the Orcs, not you.” Zig barred his teeth.

Ivano no longer felt anger in himself, only disgust that he had to work with someone like this. Someone who could not focus on their target; to attack the Border Forts in the rear and prepare for the invasion. It was a simple order, and yet this Orc lacked the ability or was unwilling to follow such simple orders.

“What do we do?” Zig asked aloud.

“We could always surrender.” Snakha said, the room turning stone silent. He smiled and righted himself. “I never thought that they would even ask for our surrender. We might want to take it before they change their mind.”

He nodded out the window. Ivano followed his line. Out there on the wall he could see the source of their problems. Amongst the sea of white and green soldiers were three dressed like armoured peasants. Those around them regarded those three as some sort of leader. They always moved for them when they passed and never the reverse. Others were dressed as peasants. And probably were, the army bolstered by the angry and revenge driven peasants he had tried to warn the Orcs about. He could see those amongst the soldiers. They were treated like peasants, leaving those three as the clear outliers.

“That mage they have, Grand Mage or whatever, I'm sure he could burn this place down without risking a single person on their side.” Snakha grumbled.

“So, why haven't they?” Brenna asked. Snakha smiled at her but shrugged. “They might think we have someone of value, like the Governor.”

Ivano forced a fake laugh. “We've set fire to their city and burned and pillaged our way through their lands. I thought they would have just burned us alive.”

The room was silent again. Snakha began to rock back and forth on the chair that could barely contain his weight. It squeaked and groaned with every movement, driving a lance through the middle of Ivan's brain. However it was easier to push that aside than the imminent destruction they faced. It would would not be long before their fate was decided, with or without their consent.

After an eternity, and still no movement from the enemy, Ivano breathed a sigh of relief. He had made his decision.

“Against everything that I've been taught, I think it would be best to surrender.”

Silence greeted him. Brenna looked utterly stunned at him, Snakha sharing the same expression. Zig. Zig was furious.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, his words filled with spittle.

“We cannot win.” Ivano began to explain as simply as he could. He did not want an angry mind to be clouded by complex words. “We wait, we die. We fight, we die. If we surrender, we could live. It's that simple.”

He slammed his boot onto the wooden floor.

“No. It's Not!” Zig screamed back at him. “How am I supposed to tell my father what happened here? That I lost so many Orcs for so little. So little that there's not anything to even...Fuck!”

He swung his fists wildly into the air and smashed everything he could see. Now he just looked like a petulant child. Ivano sighed, knowing that he was not going to get through any time soon. He looked back out again at the soldiers. There seemed to be more of them now.

“Well, we had a good run.” Snakha stood up and leaned an intact window next to him. “But I don't think there's any way out of this.”

“You're just as much a coward as the rest of them.” Zig spat out. His face, and especially his neck, grew more angry with every passing moment. Snakha just ignored him.

Is this the limit of your command?

Zig grew even more angry.

“We will not be surrendering.” A laugh escaped his lips. “I thought you Clansmen were meant to be brave?”

Ivano was not going to rise to the challenge, not matter how much he wanted to punch this Orcs head in.

“You can lead whomever is stupid enough to follow you to their deaths.” Ivano moved away from the window. “But, I am going out there to surrender, with everyone that wants to see their families again. And be done with this wretched land. If you want to live, Zig, you should to.”

“My father-”

“Your father would want you to live.” Ivano replied. “Any decent father would rather have their son in their arms rather than a cold corpse.”

“You don't know him...This was my chance to achieve some greatness. But we might-”

“We'll just die if we stay here.” Brenna cut Zig off, a strange look of terror and fear in his eyes. “There is no honour or greatness here. We might as well surrender.”

“I can't go back like this.” Zig grumbled. “I can't...”

He kept his head hung low as he quivered. There was nothing else to be done now. Ivano began to move to the door. Right now he did not even care if anyone would actually follow him. He just wanted to go home.

“We're not going to win here.” Brenna hopped off the table and started to follow him. “Might as well-”

Metal rubbed on metal, a light cry, and something slumped onto the floor. Ivano turned around first seeing Snakha with both his hands raised in the air, his axe on the floor infront of him. Brenna lay still on the floor, face down into the plush white carpet. Several large gashes were visible on the side of her face leaking copious amounts of blood as she lay perfectly still. Zig stood above her with a small bloodied blade.

“We're not going to surrender.” Zig spoke calmly. The blood continued to drip off his blade. “We're going to finish our mission and burn this city to the ground, and then demolish the Border Forts. That is our mission. And I can alone now can see it through.”

Ivano could not think of anything to say back. He was too stunned to speak. Was she dead? She was not moving, but she might have just been unconscious. Her back moved every so slightly. Though that might have just been his imagination. His anger, the anger he had beaten into him through endless winters, started to boil over.

“And those that want to surrender, like you.” Zig pointed the bloody blade at him, then at Brenna's body. “And her, are the reason we are in this state.”

“You and I both know that's not true.” Ivano replied.

Zig frowned. The expectation of Ivano lashing out had not come to fruition. He did want to kill the Orc, but now he was worried. Brenna was no weakling. It was troubling to see her go down so quickly. Everything he thought about Zig was now in dispute. Now he was worried as to whether he could actually kill him.

“As you said, it doesn't matter. I am going to get my glory. And I will not go back in shame.”

“You're behaving like a child.” Ivano moved his hand to his one handed axe. “And you need to have the snot beaten out of you. More, for hurting my friend. You're not going to get to go home after I'm done with you.”

“Try it, you bear fucker.”

Ivano shook his head in disappointment and readied his axe.

Ivano lunged forward as fast as he could, raising his axe to strike. Zig froze in the spot, blocking his downward strike with his own weapon. He slowly buckled underneath his strength but he refused to go down.

He shouldn't be that strong!

Zig let out a smile. The same disturbing and creepy one he always wore. It distracted him for only a heartbeat, but it was enough.

A tingling, then a burst of pain, came from his left side. He glanced down and saw blood coming from a small wound through his armour. Zig held another small dagger coated with blood. His own blood.

How did he do that?

Some strength began to leave him along with the blood. He had been stabbed before but something was different about this. Ivano relinquished his axe and throttled Zig, using his other hand to hold Zig's left hand and knock away the blade. That did leave a hand free, but Ivano's anger and rage had muddled his mind. Using every part of his strength that he could muster, he threw himself forward and slammed Zig into the floor next to Brenna's body. The other knife flew free.

Clamping down hard with his right hand the life began to leave Zig. He scratched desperately at Ivano's face with his free hand. Ivona did not care for what little pain he could inflict. He was going top see this runt of an Orc dead, not matter what. Despite struggling for breath, Zig called out towards the broken windows. Snakha stood to the side refusing to intervene on anyone's side. Something glinted in Ivano's eyes, coming from Zig. The momentary glance to the side gave Zig all the time he needed. When Ivano looked back Zig had something in his free hand.

There was something metallic in the palm of his hand. A silver disk. It was incredibly ornate and adorned by numerous white crystals and gems, one the size of his thumb in the centre. He recognised it instantly.

“A charm-”

The charm flashed white, Ivano's eyes blinded in the flash. He howled in pain and relinquished his grip on Zig as his hand reflexively moved to cover his face. Snakha gasped in surprised, his feet shuffling about nervously. Zig, going by sound, rolled away, panting heavily.

“Snakha!” Zig roared. The Orc grunted something back.

Ivano felt something wet coming out of his eyes. It was far more thick than tears, his own blood. His vision had yet to recover and did not seem to returning. A terrifying realisation came over him. He was blind. And the rest of his body was rapidly loosing strength.

“Snakha!” Zig roared again, sounding more demented with every word.

“What?” the Orc replied, the fear clear in his voice.

“Throw that traitor out the building. I don't want something like that near me. Now!”

Snakha did not reply. Ivano waited for the inevitable, but it did not come. Heavy steps moved from where he knew the Orc was, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?!”

Snakha refused to answer. His feet becoming ever more faint as he ran away.

I thought you would have obeyed, or fought. Ivano let out a smirk. Guess I got that wrong about you.

“Fine.” Zig grumbled as he moved to the left of Ivano. "My Father's not going to be disappointed in me again. Never again. I'll be the one to lead us to victory then, since you humans seem so useless at it."

A dull ringing filled the air, coming from Zig. It grew and grew before disappearing. A sudden force crashed into his left, sending his hurtling away. His body smashed into a window before continuing out. Nothing, other than the sensation of falling, filled him for what seemed an eternity as he fell through the air.

The visions of home and warmth against the cold filled his mind.

A brief cacophony of pain, all along his body, then everything turned to an endless black.

------------

Hello Everyone!

So, Zig's lost it and has serious issues with his daddy. Brenna's down, Snakha ran off, and Ivano's blasted out the window, the Clansmen that fell out from the previous chapter.

Also that Zig's a mage. Perhaps it has something to do with him being a thrall, and the Orc shamans always wanting them. Hmm...

Shorter chapter than before. But, there you go.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 057 - Smoky Dust

Chapter 057:

Anton had no idea what happened but whatever it was it brought the cornered Orcs and Clansmen from their defeated resignation to a fiery defiance. It had taken a few moments after the Clansmen had been blasted from the top levels of the Governors Mansion, with the same white magic the Yellow Goblin Commander used. Seeing that white light again explained a lot, especially how they had managed to get through Nonbu'rn's walls. Was there a mage there with a glyph, like himself and Verona? Or did they have some sort of charm, like Duchess Belinda supposedly had?

Alfred had quickly retreated up the wall and next to Anton. He seemed quite distraught that he had failed to get their surrender.

“That's a shame.” Alfred said, shaking his head. “I thought they might have actually decided to surrender this time.”

“Seems like it would have added quite a bit of weight to Duchess Belinda's name too.” Anton replied.

A twinge of anger flashed over Alfred’s face, but he fought it down.

Perhaps it was both, he wants to improve Duchess Belinda's prestige and save lives when he can. It's not impossible to do both.

Anton softened his own face, to which Alfred relaxed as well. He realised he may gave spoken a bit more rudely than he had expected.

“It would have. But...At least we can deal with the threat in one go. Even if it involves the destruction of the mansion. Keeping it intact would be better though...that would have-”

“They're moving.” Kal said, pointing to the guards visible at the far side of the mansion. Shields were being raised and the few archers that they had readied their bows. A few shouted and waved for anyone to respond.

“Of course they're not going to come to us.” Verona said. She turned on her power and drew up the blood she had stored.

“We'll hold anyone that tries to come through here.” Alfred said. “We need you to take care of the breach. Hemiskr, Conrad. Take as many soldiers as you need and pursue them. I'll send someone to look for that one that fell from the top.”

Anton nodded and looked along the wall. Hemiskr and Conrad ran either side and rallied the soldiers, Hemiskr followed behind Anton.

As they could not bring their horses up here there was little choice for them but to run along the wall. With the smoky air choking their lungs they ran as quickly as they could, the soldiers glancing towards them as they passed. He heard Verona and Kal behind him, though now he was regretting not having trained his body, even if it was only for a short time every day. While he could use his prayer power to compensate he did not want to use up such a valuable commodity. The bag of Karak fruit bounced on his backside with every step. At least he knew where his reserve was.

A thought was continuing to bother him.

Are they just going to use that white magic to blast a hole through the wall? And what are they going to do next? They can't complete their mission. And the worst they can do is burn this city down...So it just seems like they're going to kill themselves and bring down as many as they can with them. Sad.

His question was soon answered. Once they passed halfway around the mansion he could see the mass of Orcs and Clansmen spilling out and towards a thick iron barred gate. There was a surprising number of them. It also seemed as if they had not lost anyone, the ground was so thick with movement.

He ran a bit further and stopped, forming three non tethered lightning rings and sending them over the enemy. As the lightning began to crackle and roar into life something glowed white at the front of the mass of soldiers. It grew brighter and brighter before collapsing into nothing. A large white sphere flew froward and smashed into the wall. The stone wall smashed and exploded into thousands of pieces, the soldiers on top thrown high into the air. A cry rang out and the enemy charged.

Anton stopped dead. He watched those thrown into the air, tumble and scream, as gravity took hold once again and threw them to the ground below. As their bodies crashed into the ground the lightning rings burst into life and threw their bolts down at the enemy. Many burst as the bolts struck, but the charge kept on moving. The archers tried their best but could not stop the flow.

“I think we should keep moving.” Verona said, rushing forward and grabbing his hand.

“Right.”

Anton let loose a few more lightning bolts after the enemy. Despite their losses the Orcs and Clansmen continued their frenzied charge into the smouldering city and into the streets. They seemed to be heading north. He glanced behind and saw nearly all the Qaiviel soldiers hot on his heels, Hemiskr leading from the front.

“Anton!” he said through breaths, waving for them to continue. Anton doubted that he could stop without being crushed by those behind. “We'll take the brunt of their attack while you support us. Don't want you killed by them right at the end of this thing.”

The soldiers at the front cheered and raised their shields. They continued down the closest ramp to the ground and followed the enemy horde through the rubble of the wall. Conrad and more soldiers joined them from the other side. Shields locked together while spearmen and archers moved forward to attack through the gaps. The Orcs and Clansmen were very far ahead and moved far more quickly than they could.

In order to catch up they had to break formation and run. Anton, Verona and Kal moved to the front so they could keep fighting. Anton threw lightning bolts over the soldiers and into the rear of the enemy force. It was enough to panic the enemy into attacking them. A screaming force smashed into the shields.

Verona summoned her blood shards and threw it into the horde, keeping herself behind the safety of the shields. Their screams filled the air and they began to run away again.

“They know they can't win.” Verona said, continuing to attack. “Why don't they just give up?”

“No idea.” Anton replied. “Though it doesn't matter much now.”

Another Orc and Clansmen group charged at them. He dispatched them with two small lightning bombs, much to the relief of the tired shield bearers. The mob continued to spread out amongst the city streets. Every branch they passed had some enemies running away. It seemed that their leadership had completely shattered. The smaller groups had stopped running and began to smash down the doors of houses. Screams quickly rang out as they killed the cowering occupants. He did not know if this was an order or if they were just trying to go out with a bang. It was terrible.

“They're just killing everyone!” Verona exclaimed. It was bringing back memories of the Yellow Goblins.

“We need to take out that lead Orc.” he said, trying his best to move forward. “That's the one that can use that white magic. If we can get him we can break them completely. He's probably the last leader they've got. They'll be stuck in here and then they'll be easy prey for us. It won't save everyone but they won't be able to blow up any more walls.”

He stopped and flung a lightning bolt at a group attacking a home. They were dragging out a family before their attacker's chest exploded. Some still survived.

“Someone, take care of them.” Anton yelled.

A dozen soldiers, and a few archers, peeled off. The Orcs ran away while the Clansmen stood and fought. Outnumbered they were quickly cut down. Anton sighed as the Qaiviel soldiers moved forward again, revealing more splintering groups either side.

“I can't see the leader, the one with the white magic.” Verona bobbed her head as high as she could. She could not see over the mass of Qaiviel soldiers and the enemy. Neither could Anton as he threw another lighting bomb over them.

“I can find him.” Kal said. She had been very quiet during everything so far. He could feel the determination radiating from her. For what reason he was not sure.

“Can you?”

Kal furiously nodded. She pointed upwards, to the tops of the buildings.

“I can climb the buildings and run along the top. I can move faster up there than I can down here.”

Another surge of Clansmen pushed hard against the Qaiviel soldiers. The Orcs seemed more content with running away and letting the Clansmen die in their place. Verona raised her blood shards above her, and slammed them into the enemy. They screamed in pain before they backed off and the Qaiviel soldiers pressed their attack.

Their advance was slowing down as the enemy began to form improvised defences. Some from destroyed buildings and even from their dead comrades. It was horrible, but it was working. Anton could see the rest of the enemy force disappearing through the gaps. If they took much longer the enemy force could escape. Then it could take days or even weeks to hunt them all down, especially if the Border Forts were besieged by the annual invasion. Time for them to cause untold damage.

“Okay Kal.”

She started to bounce slightly in joy, eliciting a chuckle from both of them. He liked seeing her acting so happy. Though coming from a battle where people were dying all around them was a little disturbing. Still, he felt that he had little choice if they were going to have a decent chance to catch the leader Orc before he escaped. But sending her up against magic like that made him feel ill. He did not want to find her dead.

“But.” he raised his hand to stop her, Kal cocking her head in question. “You are to just follow and try and stop them from leaving the city. If you can't, don't worry. And don't fight that magic user directly. I don't want to find you dead. Understood?”

Kal took a deep breath, slowly nodding.

“Okay.” she said resolutely. “I will follow your orders.”

I don't think they're really orders, but....

“Good luck.” Verona said, turning to the front lines. She pushed through the soldiers, keeping the crystal shards above her, and dove into the enemy. More screams and shouts of pain erupted into the air.

“We'll push forward as fast as we can. Please, don't do something stupid.” he almost pleaded with his voice at the end. He did not want to find her body after the battle.

“Okay.” Kal said.

She moved close and lowered her head, refusing to raise it as the seconds passed. Confusion filled his mind for a brief moment before he guessed what she might want. Tentatively he reached out and patted her head. She did not protest, in any way, until he stopped. Saying nothing she took a step back and bowed again.

“Thanks.” her voice was far more light and fluttery than usual. Even the way she said thanks seemed to be out of character for her. “I will complete your order. And return."

She took a final glance at him. “To you.”

It was so quick and quiet that he was not sure what he heard. Kal turned to the nearest building, rolled back the cloth on her hands to reveal the tips of her claws, and lept onto the wood. With her hands and feet she scratched and clawed at the wood, slowly ascending the building. It was clear that she had done this before and was quite skilled. She turned and gave a final nod to Anton, continuing to climb the building.

“Good luck!” Anton shouted after her. He had no idea if she heard as she continued to climb.

---[]---

Kal ran over the top of the homes like she was wind. Every step barely clinked on the baked clay tiles of the roves. They were not laid at a harsh angle, so she did not have to worry about sliding down. Her feet, with her claws exposed, moved so much more quickly than before. Part of her had forgotten how fast she could actually move. Far more quickly than any human could.

Below her, through the small gaps between the buildings, she could see the Orcs and Clansmen running through the city streets. There was no order or reason to their actions anymore. They were just going to have some fun before they died or were captured.

Where is that magic user? Anton said....I need to find him. I can do this!

She looked down but could not see anything different amongst the Orcs and Clansmen.

He'll probably be heading to the wall to escape. That strange white magic...Something about a Yellow Goblin?...

She followed the direction of the enemy heading towards the wall. However the city street turned into a cross roads. There was a considerable gap between the roves, more than she could just walk across.

“Okay. It's just a running jump. I've jumped bigger ravines before.”

Kal glanced down at the running mass of Orcs and Clansmen, hearing the tell tale cracks of Anton's lightning coming from behind. Hearing that made her feel strangely warm inside. Not as warm as just before. She had remained still so Anton could pat her. For once she was glad for the cloth covering her face. He would have laughed if he saw how red her face was and how her mouth and ears twitched in nervousness. She did not understand exactly why she did it, but she did. A pleasant warmth trickled throughout her body as he touched her head.

A shout from below snapped her back to reality. The enemy was being bushed back. Verona at the front, the red crystals shimmering against the light. Her daydreaming and reminiscing had taken too long and they had gotten away.

Focus on the order you were given. Don't mess up the first thing you've been entrusted with!

She took a deep breath, flexed out her toes and hands, and ran at the the gap. At the last moment she lept with all her might, flying through the air before landing on the other side. A few clay tiles broke and slid out from underneath her but otherwise she landed fine.

There were five more large gaps, and numerous smaller ones, until she caught up with the front of the mass. The building that she stopped at was still on fire. Smoke bellowed out of the gaps between the clay tiles. Several giant sagging holes had opened in the roof and bellowed out even more smoke like a chimney. Warmth came through the tiles, a fire still raging beneath in the building below. A tile dislodged with the tiniest push of her foot. It tumbled down into the building, letting out a new chimney's worth of smoke. Amongst the smoke she could smell burnt flesh. She shuddered at the though of being burnt alive.

I've seen worse ways to go...Or not to go. Poor Lucia....

Focusing herself back on the present she moved low and looked out from the edge of the building. Towards the street below. Amongst the front of the mass there were far more Orcs than Clansmen, so many that she had to search for one. In the center of the front she could see an Orc that seemed very different to the rest. He was slightly smaller and not dressed in their armour. Compared to the back of the Orc soldiers he looked more like a noble than a warrior. Yellow, orange and blue bright clothes. The way that they took orders from him she guessed that he was a leader, though it was not clear if he was the magic wielder. It was a good place to start.

None on the ground seemed to know that she was there. For all her worrying about ambushes from above, it seemed that it was all for naught. That was a little annoying. Now she was the one that was about to start hunting them.

She crouched down, to steady herself, and checked the arrows in her quiver. There were not that many, about thirty left. And she only had five left with the Kobold poison coating. She still had the clay bottle with her, just in case, but that did not help the limited number of arrows.

Magic, like Anton's or Verona's, would be really handy now.

The Orcs yelled and jeered, pushing harder towards the wall. Right now they were halfway to the wall. And there was nobody in the way to stop them.

My orders were to follow and try and stop him if I can...I've got some arrows...So...

She nocked and loosed an arrow into the horde. It struck an armoured Orc in the head, next to the suspected leader. He fell over onto the leader, who shouted in surprise and pushed him away. His green face drew down in anger as he saw the arrow sticking out from his head.

The Orc glanced up and his eyes connected with hers. A strange feeling of revulsion filled as she looked into the Orc's face. He turned and started to push the Orcs forward even faster.

She loosed several more arrows at him, but they seemed to miss him and strike the Orcs nearby. She knew that she was a decent shot at this range but it did not seem to matter. It was frustrating. Very frustrating.

How am I missing him? It must be magic. At least I'm taking down your friends.

Reaching back, she pulled out one of the poison coated arrows.

Wonder if this one will work? I'm not going to fail my first mission!

As she drew hard on her bow the lead Orc turned towards her, something silver in his hand. A moment of dread flickered over her as she thought that he had, somehow, managed to take her precious medallion.

No, it's not that.

The silver object began to glow very bright.

Run or Fight?

She already had the bow drawn.

Fight!

She aimed, not at the lead Orc, but one next to him. The arrow struck him in the arm. A heartbeat later the Orc's face contorted in pain. His body buckled and thrashed about, hitting the lead Orc in the head. His body recoiled from the strike but the magic did not stop. As the glowing white light condensed to a point, Kal ran away with all the strength she could muster. Infront of her was the section with a partially collapsed roof, smoke still bellowing out. She jumped over the hole with ease and kept on running.

A blast of white came from behind. She winced as the magic exploded behind her, almost as loud as Anton's lightning magic. A quick glance back and nothing had happened to the roof.

Shouting came from below. She was too far away to hear the words but it sounded angry. A death cry, from an Orc, rang out before being silenced.

Kal slinked towards the edge to see what was happening. The building groaned and started to rock back and forth. Kal outstretched both her arms in an attempt to steady herself but it was of little use. Another terrifically loud groan, as loud as the white magic, came from below. At the ground level.

The building began to buckle and groan, fire damaged wooden beams tearing themselves loose from the adjacent buildings. Clay tiles smashed and slid into the fires below, letting out even more smoke and heat. Groans of wood grew as the building began to fall apart. There was no time to think.

She had to run.

With every morsel of strength she could muster she ran towards the adjacent building, away from the street, still standing strong. The roof slipped away from underneath her feet as the building crumbled into nothing. Red fire and smoke poured out of the collapsing building. She leapt as far as she could but it was not enough. Smoke and dust plumed up from the crashing building, obscuring her vision. Her fingers scraped on the exposed beams, her grip to weak, before she fell down into the dust below. Something smacked into her face and flung her backwards into the tumbling smoke.

---[]---

Kal's head throbbed, like someone was trying to beat her brain. She knew this sensation. She had just been knocked unconscious. Though, judging by the rapidly dissipating headache, she had only been unconscious for a few moments. The rest of her body throbbed and stung with every movement.

Where...Where am I?

A few clays tiles slid off her as she rose. Splintered and charred wood was underneath her hands as she steadied herself. Somehow she had survived. While she had not ridden the collapsing building down she was now on the street level. A fall like that would have broken every bone in her body, and yet she was barely injured.

Smoke and dust filled the air. Every breath was laboured, the cloth blocking the worst out. She could see nothing beyond her own outstretched arms.

Focus! The Orcs! They're still here!

Kal slapped her clothed face, the sting forcing herself to focus and alert. She lay to the side of the rubble of the collapsed building, forming a large barricade. Sounds of fighting, and the occasional rumble of lightning, came from behind. She had fallen to the other side, near the head of the mass of Orcs.

Through the rubble of the building many hands of Orcs and Clansmen stuck out.

How many were buried alive?

The main street had been blocked but there were many other ways around. Small passageways that covered the city. Soon the Orcs and Clansmen would be there from both sides, followed by the Qaiviel soldiers. She did not want to be caught in the middle of that.

In front of her, through the clearing smoke, several figures started to move closer. They were too large to be humans. Dread creeped over her.

Kal reached for her quiver but found her back empty. It had been thrown loose in the fall. It was only an arms length away and still filled with arrows, somehow, with her bow next to it. Thanking a strange streak of luck she recovered her weapons, a quick check telling that both her daggers remained on her hips. If if was Tethra, that kept her alive and near her weapons, she would build the largest temple the world had ever seen.

“You still alive, you little runt?” A voice yelled out.

It came from her side of the collapsed building, through the smoke. More figures started to emerge. They were Orcs, covered in soot and dust, and ready to fight.

With the air almost cleared Kal counted eight Orcs. Normally she would have been utterly petrified by seeing just one Orc. Now she felt eerily calm, like she had ever since coming on this journey to Qaiviel. All she was thinking of was how to kill these Orcs and get away. She glanced at where the building had collapsed, the fires still flickered within. Wooden beams could act like a ladder, they could easily let her escape and she was much faster than an Orc. If it came to that.

I can't take down eight by myself, not without making some distance....I'll need to get creative.

Taking a few valuable moments Kal backed up the ruined building as far as she could, nocked and drew back her bow.

I might be able to get one or two by talking to them....maybe.

Seeing their large, square, green faces gave her pause.

They look so similar to the nice ones we met at the lake. They were the first people to call me...cute. Nice people. I can't believe that they are from the same clan.

She loosed an arrow into the Orc at the back of the group, striking him between the eyes. The Orc slumped to the side, dead. When she aimed at someone, other than the leader Orc, she found her mark easily. Whatever that Orc had it would be difficult to deal with. The others glanced back giving Kal time to ready another arrow.

“Are you the leader?” Kal asked, hoping to catch the Orcs off guard and perhaps get another arrow in before she had to panic.

The slightly smaller Orc, the one looking more like a noble than a warrior, scoffed. He kept the other Orcs in between him and Kal, even though she was sure that he had some sort of way of deflecting her arrows. Something at his feet caught her eye. It glistened in the light, a small round silver disk, nearly broken in two. A terrifying instant flickered past, a thought that it was her medallion again.

That's...That's the glowing amulet that made the white magic. That's good. He won't be able to use magic to get out of this. Maybe he'll surrender and this whole thing will be done. And I'll be able to go home...

“I am.”

“Then you should surrender. You've been given a chance, you won't get another. Better that you get to live another day and return to the mountains. To your family. To have the sun on your face for another day.”

The leader cocked his head and frowned.

“Sounds like a slave.” The lead Orc smirked. “That's what a slave from Seocuria would say.”

Kal clicked her tongue. She had hearkened back to what she had heard, day after day, in Seocuria when a slave tried to calm down a fellow slave from doing something stupid.

Damn it. I hate it when things like that happen. It’s been too long since I've been able to talk to someone properly. Like when someone calls me a Feline...

That though made a little flutter cross her heart. Her body twitched to say the numbers, something beaten into her from as early as she could remember. She focused on the Orcs.

“You should give up before the army gets here.” Kal said.

The leader looked behind her.

“It seems that they've got a bit to go through first.”

The debris of the building was quite large and looked difficult to move over. The armoured soldiers would take some time to clamber down, and the Orcs could easily flee before that.

A rumble of lightning came from behind again. It was far closer than before the building collapsed. Their army was still advancing. She needed to buy more time.

“What's your name?” Kal asked the leader Orc. “I think that you're in charge of this army.”

It was a blatant attempt at flattery. So long as it bought her time she would say whatever she needed to.

“My name is Zig. First born son of Xugug, Warlord of the Wrath of Doom.” A demented smile formed on his face. “Not that it's going to matter to you for long.”

First son?...

“It's not just me that's attacking. You should surrender if you want to live. When Anton gets here-”

“That's the Grand Mage?” the leader asked.

Kal nodded. “And he'll only ask once. And if you don't...he'll kill you.”

“Then we'd be better be gone before then.”

He nodded to the other Orcs. They raised their axes.

Guess they're not going to listen anymore. I bought a few moments though.

Kal loosed her arrow at the closest Orc, it stammered out a squeak before collapsing. Six remained. They glanced at each other as Kal readied another arrow and fired. The Orc took one step before falling down dead. She almost smiled at how easy it was to take down them down; their weapons may have been terrifying, but their armour left many vulnerable parts exposed. Especially their faces.

The Orcs charged, another two falling before they even got closer to her. They were so much larger and terrifying up close.

She dropped her bow to the side and brought out both her blades.

They may be big, but that doesn't meant they're quick. I just need to use that.

She ran at the closest Orc, his face stunned by the speed at which she crossed the distance. He desperately brought down his axe but Kal was already too close, within his arms and able to press against his body. The axe missed her back while she replied with a quick thrust into his throat and gut. Blood spurted out as the other Orc slammed into them both from behind, sending them falling over and onto Kal.

The Orc's body was far too heavy to push away. Kal slinked underneath the falling body, retrieving her blade and cut out sideways, ensuring his death.

She bounced and lunged at the other Orc, using the dead Orc to launch herself further. He was stunned that someone could recover that quickly and barely readied his axe before Kal slashed his throat. With the last attacking Orc fall to her blade, a spurt of blood coming from its slashed neck, a glint of light came from her right.

The gleam of an axe head came into her periphery, followed by a flash of yellow and orange. She jumped back and raised both her daggers to block it, but her strength was weaker than the Zig's. She managed to stop the axe but it quickly bored down on her face.

She removed her right blade, running it along the handle and slashed at his hand and quickly darting to the left so the axe would continue to the ground. She pushed with her left hand on his axe to make sure it missed, getting another cut in. Zig yelped in pain, dropping the axe and kicking her in the gut. The very breath was knocked out of her as she tumbled backwards. She threw herself into the movement to create as much distance as possible. Something wooden broke beneath her. A quick, and forced breath, and she was back to life.

Her chest was sore from the kick but the pain only made her even more angry.

I've had it worse. Far worse. And this isn't going to stop me from getting back to my new home and friends!

The quiver now lay at her feet, but her bow was broken in two. But, the clay pot of Kobold poison was at the bottom. If she could just get to that...

“This is actually a bit of fun.” Zig laughed as he wrapped a piece of cloth around his hand. The dagger had cut deep into his green hand and blood poured out. He did not seem that interested in Kal, he knew that she did not have a bow.

Does he not care? No matter...

She forced her hand into the quiver and brought out the bound clay pot of poison. Zig finished and looked up at her, she had to hide the pot behind her feet.

“Aren't you worried?” Kal asked, another echo of a lightning blast resounding through the streets. “You can't get away anymore. You've lost your little silver disk.”

“That's what you think....” A slight scowl overcame his face. “Ivano...Oh well.”

He brought out another small axe, wielding both of them.

“I've already told them to get out of the city, however they can, and cause as much destruction as possible. Do you think a wooden gate, attacked from the inside, will stop them for long.”

“I think that you're going to be abandoned by your own people.” Kal fingered back for the pot and started to unbind the lid. It was difficult to use the blade, keep the pot upright, to stay steady and not reveal what she was doing. “They could have climbed over that building by now.”

A scowl formed on his face.

Something about that his face just feels...wrong.

“I'm going to enjoy breaking your body.”

Kal shrugged, finally freeing the lid off the pot and dipping the edge of her dagger into the viscous green liquid.

“I've had it far worse.”

Zig chuckled.

“Not today you haven't. Slave.”

Kal growled. She hated that word. She slowly stood up and held her daggers in a reverse grip, keeping her legs bent.

Zig cheered, raised both his weapons, and charged like a raging beast.

I will not fall here! I have a home and people that care about me, and I will get back to them no matter what!

---------------

Hello!

The enemy has charged out and they're giving chase.

The next chap will be from Kal's perspective as she deals with the Orc commander. He's got a Charm, basically the way for people that don't have a glyph to use magic. Duchess Belinda has one, we'll see that a bit later.

Kal's got a big fight on her hands, using everything she's learned to survive the fight. Let's see how she does...

So, thanks for reading. And for any and all Donations!

Chapter 058 - Old tricks

Chapter 058:

Zig charged at Kal with all his might, waving the weapons over his head. From Kal's perspective he was not a skilled fighter. Zig seemed to rely on his parentage to get his way through the Orcs, not though his martial prowess. The magic he had probably helped but that was gone now. Without it he seemingly had no combat sense. He simply ran with no thought behind his actions or footwork.

The flamboyant clothes he wore tried to tangle with his arms, slowing his attack and giving her vital moments to react. She tensed her legs, for a burst of strength, and waited for him to close in. When he was a few steps away she darted to the side, using the poisoned blade to slice into his left arm and a normal blade at his leg. There was little armour beneath the colourful clothing.

He screamed in pain as his axes collided with the ground. As he struggled to understand how fast Kal had just moved, she scored a few more hits from both blades into his back before making more distance. He turned angrily to her, his teeth on full display.

A wild animal filled with rage.

Good. Got a few hits with the poison. Just need to keep moving about until it takes its toll...Just like how Anton used it.

That was a little disturbing to see, especially from someone she regarded so highly. She had tried to talk to Verona about it. Her only response was to not think about it too much. That brought up other questions that confused her, like-

Focus!

Another mental scream refocused her efforts.

“What the fuck was in that?” he screamed. Zig clutched at his arm, looking at the green poison that had surrounded his wound. Strangely he did not seem to be suffering like the others did.

There's something very strange about this one.

“I'm going to enjoy ripping out your heart."

The threat did not intimidate Kal nor did the spittle coming from his teeth. He picked up a small axe from one of the dead Orcs, he raised both his weapons and charged again. She readied herself to dash to the side at the last moment when he spun and threw an axe at her. She lunged to the right, the blunt head clipping her left shoulder and sending her arm back.

Zig closed in and swung his axe as Kal tried to dart away again. The axe dug lightly into her shoulder. An overwhelming pain screamed through her mind. Using her right hand she stabbed into his side. The armour underneath the chest his flamboyant clothing was not very strong, and allowed her blade passage through and into his flesh.

He howled in pain again, raising his left hand and backhanding her with his closed fist.

The sky and ground tumbled together as she rolled away, finally resting to look up at the sky. Suddenly her vision became clear. A different fear enveloped her as she felt flecks of dirt stick and fall from her face.

Her face cloth was gone. She raised herself back up as Zig's left arm started to twitch in a spasm.

“Guess it does work.” she mumbled as she righted herself and reformed her stance. She was tired and wounded but she wasn't going to give in yet.

Zig looked up at her, his face twisting in complete and utter confusion. It was then she realised she had spoken loud enough to him.

“What?...Why?” he could not form proper words, though she guessed it was not from the venom.

“Didn't expect to see a Beast-kin?” she asked.

If I can just drag this out a bit longer...

The deep wound on her shoulder was now beginning to hurt even more. How she had no passed out yet was a question best left to the gods. Anger and surprise most likely. Her fingers were tingling and they refused to respond to her mind correctly. Her entire arm was red with blood. And it was continuing to flow.

Zig was still not focusing on her, desperately clutching at his poisoned wounds. Taking a moment she used one hand to tighten the cloth straps around the wound. It was not a fix, but it would keep her moving for a bit longer.

“That...That doesn't explain anything.” Zig continued to look bewildered at her. “Someone like you? Willingly helping humans? What is happening in this wretched lands? What is wrong with the world?"

“I choose to help them.” Kal replied. She hoped that her answer would keep him talking, though it was the truth as well.

“So who do you serve now? Is it that Grand Mage?” he let out a laugh as he began to bind his poisoned wound shut, not that it would stop the poison already coursing through his blood. “You're kind always seem like you were bred to serve. Nothing else seems to fit your people. Where you ever anything but slaves?”

Kal let the insult go. It made her furious, it being clear on Zig's bemused expression, but she did not lunge into an attack. She was not a child anymore.

“Maybe you will make this whole, stupid, invasion worth while.” he said, a disgusting smile drawing on his face. “I've heard stories of someone like you...An adult half-breed...I wonder if they'll want you after I've broken your mind.”

“You think you could do that? After everything they've done to me."

Her arm, where her slave number was branded, burned. She dug her fingers into it to stop the pain. That was one of the softest things Seocuria had done to her.

Zig laughed. “I've broken in slaves before. Human, Orc, Beast-kin slaves. There's no difference to me.”

“I doubt that.” Kal lowered her weapons.

While the words spilling out of his mouth were repugnant and vile he was not attacking yet. It would not take him long to figure out that she was playing for time, in more ways than one. The sounds of fighting had stopped. The rumble of the lightning had not happened in some time. She hoped the battle had been won or was still ongoing.

He laughed again, glancing back as a lightning echo came from behind the collapsed building. It was much closer than before. Zig completely ignored it.

“You think your kind is any stronger than a human?” he shook his head, his wounded arm started to twitch even more. “Felines, like you, are pretty easy to break. A few honeyed words of niceties and your kind lap it up. Become like a toy. I'm sure that's what he did to get you...When you've broken a Drakeling, then-”

“Really?” Kal asked.

They were a fierce breed of Beast-kin and one of the few very dangerous breeds still alive. They were not weak in any sort of form. Everyone knew that. And no one touched them. Ever.

Zig looked quite proud with himself. “They becoming quite docile once I ram my cock down their throats. And you-”

Something clicked in her mind. Something that was so obvious she could not believe why she had not seen it before. Kal started laughing, Zig stopped dead in his speech. A mixture of annoyance and confusion clear on his face as he clutched more tightly on his arm.

“They would never let someone like you touch them.” She began to smile. “Only their mate can. The Seocurians know not to touch them, because the last time a slaver tried to rape one they had their dick bitten off and rammed down their throat. Before their teared their body apart. Then ate them. The only reason they're still alive is because they're so obedient, so long as nobody touches them. Everyone in Seocuria knows that.”

Zig readied both his weapons to attack, even though one of his arms was no longer working that well.

“Which means you've lost it, or you've never had one to begin with.”

Zig's face's colour drained. It was clear with hindsight.

“You're a Thrall." she spoke quietly.

She said it partly to anger him and increase the spread of the venom but mostly because she was offended by everything he said. Never had she seen someone who was angry as Zig was now. Not even the most vile and hateful slave master, right before they killed a slave for striking them, radiated anything like the anger he had.

“Is that why you threw that clansmen from the mansion? Because he found out?”

The anger in his face subsided, but only a little.

“No. But, I know you want to keep me talking. I can see that.” he looked at his arm. “This has been getting worse with every word you speak. So...I'm going to bring back your corpse to Seocuria. See if your old friends recognise it."

A brief flicker of her mother seeing her dead body flashed through her mind. It was enough to distract her. Something was coming towards her. Zig had already thrown his axe, the blunt head hitting her in the gut. Again the breath was taken from her. He lunged at her and they crashed into the ground.

Kal's vision tumbled again. Zig recovered first and he grabbed her foot tight, spinning her into a pile of rubble. Her head and side screamed in pain. He continued to hold her foot as both her daggers clanged and bounced away from her. Now she was unarmed, and they both knew it.

I'm not going to die like this. Not without....Fight! Damn it!

She tucked her leg behind and lunged towards him, using her arms to add what little they could. Zig's face began to turn into a smirk, thinking that she was going to head-but him. She still had one weapon left, one that she had not used in nearly ten winters.

Her teeth.

Each was like a blade on its own. She opened her mouth and barred down on his face, a look of horror accompanying the realisation. He let go of her leg and tried to stop her but it was too late. Green flesh peeled away from his face as she bit down with all her might, her teeth grinding through to the bone beneath. She twisted around as she bit so her mouth encompassed his face from his nose to his eye. He screamed and pulled her away as Kal dug both of her clawed hands into the back of his skull.

Zig could have attacked her again, but the shock and pain told him to tear her away. Slowly her strength failed against his but it only helped her. She slid her bottom jaw away from his nose and her upper teeth dug into something soft. It popped, filling her mouth with something salty.

With an almighty scream he threw her away. She took one last snap at his face as she bounded away. Great tufts of skin stuck in her claws and teeth. In her mouth was a particularly large piece of flesh; his nose. She spat the flesh out and stared angrily at the now one eyed and nose-less Zig. He was consumed by anger, hollowing like a rabid bear. His remaining eye tried to bore a hole through her mouth, where his blood dripped out of her mouth. However the pain and wounds hadn't brought him down yet.

He pulled out a thin small blade from his hip and held it in a reverse grip. The wounded arm no longer seemed to be working, the venom finally having taken effect. Still, one weapon was more than she had. She doubted that she would be able to bite him again, or at least to win.

I could attack on the side of his wounded eye, but he'll know that's what's going to happen....I'll have to go back to an old trick.

“After this, I'm going to go find Anton." she shook her head as Zig began to advance, the anger and pain clear on his wounded face. "Then we're going to go home, then to Graterious, to Seocuria and then rescue my mother. And I am going to live to see that happen!”

She took a deep breath and ran backwards with all her might, lunging for a dagger. Zig ran after her followed by a blood curdling scream. She grabbed the plain dagger in one hand and a fist full of dirt and ash with the other. As she got up and started to run again.

Kal stopped and waited for Zig to get close. He readied to strike only to receive a handful of dirt in his good eye. With a howl he stopped and began thrashing about wildly, trying to use his shoulder to try and clean his eye and keeping his weapon up. With all the strength she could muster she lunged forward, dodging his wild strikes, and drove the dagger into the wounded eye. Some of his vision had returned as he raised his hand and caught the edge of the blade with his fingers, slicing them apart as the blade continued in.

Zig screamed in pain as Kal drove the dagger further into his head.

Pain came from her side, she glanced down and saw the thin dagger slowly twisting into her side. She gasped in pain. Another two strikes drove into her side, one into the same wound and one higher, before she kicked his hand away. Her next breath felt weak and wet.

Now or never!

She screamed as she forced the dagger through his mutilated hand and into Zig's head. It clicked and tore through. He tried to say something but the dagger dug into something soft. His body twitched, a gurgle of a bloody breath, before going limp. It slumped down as she backed away, clutching at her wounded side. Time slowed to a crawl as she stared at the still body.

“I did it!” she said. “I-”

A violent cough overcame her, blood pooling in her hands and staining her mouth even further. Her side burned in agony.

That bastard got me.

Strength was starting to leave her.

I...I need to find him...He can...

There had not been a lightning blast in some time. She had no idea where Anton, the only person that could heal her, was.

She removed her hands and looked at the blood that was starting to pour out of her side. A quick rebinding of the cloth slowed the bleeding to a crawl. With a grim determination she started to climb the rubble of the collapsed building. Every step up the steep rubble took every effort she could summon. Quickly her vision started to become even more blurred. She looked down and saw blood pouring over her hand. The wound, near her armpit, continued to leak blood. She bound that but it was taking every ounce of strength.

As she took the next step a clay slate tile slid out, causing her to fall down. A broken end of a wooden beam struck her wounded side. She cried out in pain and rolled onto her back. It was getting very difficult to move. Difficult to think.

She looked at what she had managed to do. At her first mission that she had been given.

“I...I did alright.” she said aloud, not caring that nobody seemed to be around to hear. “I did stop him...but...”

She looked down at her wound. The blood was starting to slow down while her body was starting to feel cold. It was not good a sign.

“I wasn't meant to get hurt like this...I'm sorry that I let you down Anton.” tears started to fall down. “I'm sorry mother. Sorry that I couldn't see you again, to show you the things that I've found. And tell you what I've done.”

A clink, of a clay tile being stood on, came from behind. Through the wall. A strength came from within her. A defiance. She was not going to die just yet.

Part of her wanted to call out, to get someone to find Anton. Her exposed half-breed beast-kin face did not even come into her mind. Neither did the Qaiviel soldiers reactions. However, whether or not they were their soldiers or the enemy did play on her mind. She unravelled a piece of cloth and wrapped it over the top of her head. It was covered in blood but it would hide her ears, if not her eyes.

“Shit,” an unrecognised voice called out. “Looks like the last Orcs got hit by the Grand Mage.”

“Nah, see the hands.” another voice spoke condescendingly to the other. “The building crushed 'em. Who knows how many there are on the other side. The bosses won't be happy to hear that.”

“We'd better tell them.” the first voice spoke up. “They're not going to like having to come back here. Save us having to work through the streets.” A few more tiles were kicked around. “Doesn't look good for them, does it?”

It was not Anton, or anyone she recognised, but it did not sound like an Orc or Clansmen.

If they leave now they might not search here for some time and go around...No. I'm not going to let myself die here. I'm just going to have to risk it.

“Hello?” Kal yelled out.

“Who's there!” the voice shouted back. The sound of swords being drawn accompanied the voice.

Really?

“My name is Kal. I am travelling with Anton, the Grand Mage. I-” She began to cough up even more blood, and only just stopped herself from passing out. “I need you to bring him here! Now!”

She looked up and saw a soldier peering over. She quickly lowered her head and raised her hand so the soldiers on top could see. One let out a gasp as they saw her bloodied cloth hand.

“That's one of the ones that came with him.” he said. “We'll send someone down to help you until we find-”

The fear of being exposed came back.

“No!” she yelled. “Just bring him here now!”

She was certain that their armours clicked as they shrugged.

“Okay. Just, hang on then. He shouldn't be too far away. Oh, I can see him! Hang on!”

Thank the gods.

---[]---

It was nearly impossible to tell how much time had passed since the soldiers left as Kal kept trying to fall asleep. She forced herself to stay awake. If she fell asleep now she would definitely be found dead. Not now. Especially when help was so close to living.

When she finally hear something like Anton's voice calling out she had never been so happy to hear her name . Her strength had almost left her but she managed to let out a squeak. A groan. It seemed to be enough. A single person started to scurry down the debris next to her. A few loose tiles and small stones and pieces of timber tumbled past her. She first saw his shoes, the ones that nobody else in this world used or even had. Her heart throbbed to see those things.

“Fucking hell Kal.” he said, scrambling and stumbling to get to her. “What happened to you?”

Tears flooded down her face as she pointed to the dead Orcs. Anton followed and gasped.

“You did all that?” he asked as he got closer. Kal nodded, not that Anton seemed to be paying much attention. He knelt down next to her.

“Right. I'm going to do something and I don't want you to complain.” he said, a warm smile forming on his face, which Kal weakly returned. “You've more than earned it.”

She did not bother to ask what he meant as he placed his hand on her head. A moment later everything sparked back into life; her body began to burn with heat, the wounds and pain vanished, the seeping sensation of her blood ceased, everything quickly replaced with an odd tingling all over her body. Breathing became easier with every passing moment as the magic coursed through her body.

She looked towards him, but his eyes were closed. Whatever he was doing it was taking all of his attention. Feeling such care and attention he had for her moved her heart. It ached, more so than it had ever before.

Other parts of her body started to ache and twitch. Her ears, arms, hands, feet, everything felt odd. If anything it was as if she was growing. She was told not to complain so she held her questions until it was done. She trusted him. More every moment.

Anton opened his eyes and slumped down onto the debris, his arms lost all their strength and crumpled beneath him. Just like at the Gravestone.

“Anton!” she squeaked out, coming to his aide. She moved, with a speed she never knew she had, and made sure that he was still breathing. A smile broke out on his face.

“Sorry. I just used a lot of mana then.” he chuckled and brought his hand up to her head. Something in her took control and guided the hand from her head to her cheek. He looked a little surprised but said nothing.

Kal closed her eyes and clasped the hand tight, enjoying his warmth flowing into her. Something she thought she would never have was right infront of her. Slowly her throat began to choke as more tears began to flow.

“It's okay.” Anton said, not removing his hand. “Everything's fine now.”

It was a silly thing to say, but a gate within her heart broke. The words that she wanted to hear ever since escaping Seocuria. That she could relax. That everything was fine. She didn't have to run, hide or cower anymore. Someone was there for her.

That she was safe.

She could no longer hold it in. Every bottled up emotion came out at once. Her throat chocked as she began to hunch over and cry. Everything was coming out. Things that she had kept cramped and locked in her heart, never to be released.

No words flowed forth, only incomprehensible cries. Anton said nothing, only moving his other hand to hold her head, slowly caressing it. She would have said something but her tears overwhelmed her thoughts. She cried louder and louder. Finally turning into a wail that burned at her throat.

It was a wail from the bottom of her soul.

-----------

Hello.

So, Zig's dead, and ramifications for that will happen. A tiny bit more info on what the Orcs, at least, do to Beast-kin and why Lazgar, and his Orcs, were a little concerned to see her.

Also Kal using a 'trick' (throwing dust like she did with Sam), I thought it would be good to bring that back. Just a little nod. Also her teeth which are all cannines, she's said she's used them before and why they can be so dangerous.

Kal got away and has, seemingly, been healed completely. She's also finally letting out bottled emotions that she's never been able to let out over the past twenty odd years.

So that's that.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 059 - Heart

Chapter 059:

Anton had no idea how much time passed before Kal stopped crying. Part of him wanted to tell her to stop, but a larger part knew that he should just keep quiet. She needed to let these things out and not just bottle them up. He said nothing and sat in silence, slowly rubbing her head as she gripped his other hand for dear life. Finally the cries turned to sniffles after everything had finally left her. She was left shaken and empty.

When she finally stopped she looked terrible. The tears had mixed with the ash and soot covering her skin, dirty streaks running down her face. Her green eyes were red and puffy, far more so than anything he had seen before. A wet sheen started to dribble out of her nose as she continued to sniffle.

“Thank you.” she spoke weakly, her voice breaking into a choke at the end.

“For what?”

“For...” She sniffed and looked down, still keeping attached to his hand.

“Hold on. We should get you cleaned up.” He mumbled. Anton looked around for something like a spare cloth but there was nothing to be found. He took the small piece of cloth that Kal was using to cover her ears and, using his free hand and parts without blood, began to wipe away the grime.

“No.” She began, trying to move her head away. “You shouldn't have to-”

“Kal.” His words stopped her. She refused to look up. “Stop it.”

She went quiet and nodded her head. He folded a corner and began to work. She glanced up but did not stop him. A few squeaks escaped her lips as he roughly cleaned her face. With everything mostly gone he smiled warmly.

It took her a while but she finally let out a smile.

“Thank you, Anton.” she mumbled as she released his hand. Her claw tips lingered for quite some time.

“What happened here?” he asked. Kal looked back at the dead Orcs before moving next to him and sitting, bringing her legs underneath her chin.

“That lead Orc, the one with the colourful clothes, he called himself Zig, had some sort of magical...item. I don't know what he called it. He used it to bring down this building. Luckily an Orc that had been hit with a poison arrow thrashed about and broke it before he could use it again. I think. I fell down with the building, fought and killed all of them.”

Anton could not believe the words she was saying. He looked back at the Orcs. Most of the Orcs had arrows sticking out of their faces, the rest bleeding heavily from the neck. The Orc, in yellow, orange and blue clothes, had one of her daggers sticking out of its eye. It must have been quite a battle.

“I thought I saw a flash of white before we heard the building collapse.” he began. “I thought they were just blocking our pursuit. If I had known that you were there-”

Kal raised her hand to stop him.

“I...I was only meant to keep an eye on him and slow him down. Not to fight him....or nearly get killed myself. I'm sorry.” She lowered her head.

“Well...” It was what he had asked of her, but combat was a messy situation. He was certain that things like this happened. But it was certainly not something to get angry at her about.

“I'm sorry that I failed my first order from you.”

“It's fine, Kal. You didn't fail.”

A twitch came over her face. “No, it's not fine. You put your faith in me and I broke it. I...I should be punished.”

“What?” Anton could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

This isn't some side effect of having survived a life and death situation, is it?

Kal refused to break eye contact with him. She stared at him with a burning intensity. Something told him that she wasn't just going to let it go.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as flat as possible.

Kal knelt by his side and nodded furiously. Was this some part of her feline Beast-kin's culture?

Anton inwardly sighed as he raised his hand. Kal gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, expecting a serious strike. Instead Anton pulled back his middle finer and flicked her in the forehead as hard as he could. A satisfying thwack rang out as his finger collided with her skin. Kal jumped back surprised. Her eyes swivelled around as she frowned deeply at him. Before she could say anything Anton flicked her again. She groaned childishly as he flicked her once more.

“There. That's your punishment for disobeying my orders and nearly getting yourself killed.” he tried to speak with authority. But it was undermined by Kal holding both her hands over a small red mark on her forehead, almost a pout on her face. He could not keep a straight face. Neither could Kal. Finally she let out a laugh.

“Thank you.” she said, taking her seat next to him. “Thank you for caring.”

He smiled and patted her head again, eliciting another mewl of delight. His eyes caught something, a dark aqua, moving low on her backside.

“Um...Kal?”

“Hmm?”

“I think your tail is showing.”

Kal ran her hand to her butt and squeaked in surprise. She looked back and saw the tear in her pants and cloth. Letting out a sigh, she looked at the dead leader Orc.

“It must have happened when I was fighting him.” she began. “It bit his face off and he must of torn it then.”

The casual way she said that stunned him. Anton thought that he was just badly wounded, but now that he looked more closely he could see the grevious wounds. Kal saw his state and smiled warmly.

“I bit his nose off and bit through one of his eyes. That made him very angry. Stabbed me a few times.”

“I bet.” Anton chuckled nervously. Now that he looked more closely Kal's teeth were covered in a thin layer of weak blood. He had thought that was her own, but he swore he could see tiny flecks of green amongst it. “I'm never going to be messing with you then.”

Kal smiled and ran another hand to her tail. It looked like she was trying to fix it so Anton looked away. He reasoned that she did not want someone to be looking while she fixed something so near to her butt. The seconds drew on as he heard no movement from Kal. Slowly she started to squeak.

“Would you like to see it?” she blurted out. When he turned to look her face had turned a light red. “You...I know I said that it's not something that a Beast-kin would just let anyone touch or see but...”

She coughed to cover her embarrassment. “But, I trust you with it.”

An honest smile graced her face as Anton nodded. He was very curious, but he was not going to force it out of her.

Kal stood up and began to roll up the layers of cloth from her pants to just below her shirt. Anton had no idea what she was doing, so he moved his gaze forward. Kal did not need his eyes studying her. Even though he did look. What little she revealed was a very slim and toned body. He could make out the lines of her taught muscles, skin the same tan as her face, clearly hereditary. She rolled it up further, to where the bottom of her shirt would lay, and green fur began to emerge.

It was her tail, wrapped around her waist and settled just above her hips in a coil. She caught his eye and chuckled.

“A Beast-kin's tail is usually about an arms length at most, even the longest is not much longer than that. Mine....Mine is a lot longer.”

There were several small and thin pieces of string binding her tail together. She started to pry them apart with some difficulty. Evidently they did not come apart very often.

“A lot longer.” she mumbled, a tinge of pride in her voice.

Finally she managed to free the last string and her tail burst free. She let out a gasp of relief as the tail unfurled.

Anton was utterly stunned by it. It was huge, longer than she was tall, easily two and a half meters. The fur was a bit coarse and knotted in a few areas, probably from being unable to move and being bound for years, but otherwise it looked even more soft and delicate than the fur on her feet and ears. It was not very thick, so it could hide easily around her waist. The end of the tail flared out into three small fans. On each of these in the center was another small orange star, on the top and bottom of the fur. Just like the marks on her toes.

He was lost for words. She saw back down and lazily brought the tip into her hands.

“It's a little weird, I'm sure. I don't think you would have seen anything like this on your world.”

“It's stunning. Simply stunning.” Anton said truthfully. Kal's face grew even more red as her ears drew back in happiness. This time she did not try and stop any of it.

“I rarely get to take it out. If someone were to see this...”

“They would certainly try to hurt you.”

Kal grimly nodded.

“Such a shame. Can...Can I touch it?” he asked.

Kal nodded and waved over her tail to his hands. She appeared to have complete control over her tail despite its size. The fur was even more soft than he thought possible, his hands sunk in until he found the small center that formed her tail. His hands trailed along the tail to the end, the tail split at the end to each of the fans at the end. Each part moved independently as he touched it. He wondered what it would have felt like to control every movement of such a limb.

“It's amazing.” he said, slowly turning it so he could fully look at it. A quick glance up revealed that Kal's face had turned from red to scarlet. Any deeper and she would have passed out. Anton smiled as he let it go, though Kal seemed disappointed.

“I...I try to take care of it as well as I can.” Kal let part of her tail linger on his legs. “But, it can be difficult after it's bound for so long. It can get stiff and sore. It can take days to get the proper feelings back.”

“Do you...have it out when you're in your home? Nobody's going to see you there.”

Kal shrugged. “Not really. I...I don't know. I still feel odd about showing it. Even when I know that nobody can see it I just don't feel that comfortable.”

Anton smiled, picking up the fan part of her tail. “Well, when we get back, you are more than welcome to keep it out. I'll make sure that nobody has a problem with it.”

Kal laughed. “Thank you. I would like that.” her face turned more serious. “But, you would have to tell everyone that they can't just come up and touch it. It's a very delicate part of me and I don't want children to try and yank it off.”

“I'll let everyone know not to mess with you or your tail. I bet that would hurt.”

A flicker of pain washed over her face. He did not need to ask where that came from.

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“But, you're fine with me touching it?”

Kal flushed again. “That...That's different.”

She withdrew her tail until it lay coiled infront of her.

“Oh...I have something that I need to tell you.” she said, the flush disappearing. Now she looked very saddened. “I've not been completely honest with you...or done the right thing by you, or Atros.”

She started to play with her ear, right at the tip. A look of surprise and confusion plastered over her face.

“My...My ear is back.” she gasped as she clawed at both of them. A wide smile grew on her face. “How did you do that?”

Anton shuffled upright a bit more.

“I used my prayer power to heal your wounds. I didn't want you to die.”

Kal smiled as she started to check over the rest of her body.

“You've healed me before...I really didn't notice it before, I was focusing on not dying. Other parts of my body feel different as well. My feet feel more flexible and my chest doesn't hurt when I breath.” she grimaced as she looked at Anton. “I had one of my ribs broken when I was young. And it never healed properly.” A frown formed on her face. “But, you've healed me before. Like my foot with the wolf's tooth. That didn't do this.”

“I...I worded the prayer to restore you completely.” Kal raised a deep aqua eyebrow to him. “So that your body would return to how it should be. If you hadn't been stuck in the hell hole of Seocuria and forced to wander the wilds for years. Like you should be. A healthy woman.”

“It looks like it took a lot of it out of you.” She chuckled weakly. It had taken most of the mana out of him.

“I wonder, if it did that...” Kal rolled up the cloth wrappings on her left arm. It too was the same tan as the rest of her. A stunned relief overcame of her face. “They're gone.” She chuckled. “Of course they are.”

“Was that...Was that were you were branded?”

Kal nodded. “When I first came to Atros...”

“We found out that you were a Feline type of Beast-kin, then you started to say some numbers.” When he said the word Feline, her body lurched forward and her mouth twitched as she stopped herself from speaking.

Wow. It really was beaten into you.

Kal flushed lightly as she coughed herself into control again, playing with the tips of her tail.

“Sorry.” They both said at once.

“You don't have to be sorry.” Anton said before Kal could. He was the one at fault.

“It's like I can't help myself when someone says that word. Thankfully it didn't happen when I had to talk with human villagers.” She kept looking at her left arm. “My name...the name that I was given was F.T. Four three eight two one. That was my name. The name the Seocurians called me everyday. I wasn't allowed to be called anything else.”

Anton smiled. That was not something she would just share with anyone.

“For what it's worth, I'll always know you as Kal.”

She flushed again, lowering her head into her knees. The tail moved to cover her face.

“I only want to be known as Kal too. I hated seeing that thing.” she started to shuffle uncomfortably sitting. “Though, I'm thankful that the rest of my body has healed...I do have a new problem now.”

“What?”

Kal moved the tail to cover even more of her face. “Well, you know Verona's...bust?”

“Yes.” Anton tried very hard not to try and make any stupid remark.

“Right. Well. She told me they can cause her quite a bit of pain when she hasn't got the armour on...”

“Yes. That's one of the main reasons why she wears it all the time.” Anton tried his best to remain objective as possible. Though, this did bring into question why Kal was speaking along these lines. There was one very likely possibility.

“Well as I said to Verona, and I don't know if she told you, but my mother had breasts larger than her. Now, I don't know about my fathers side, but most Seocurians are quite lithe and slim people. Umm...So, it seems that they've grown. When you...”

Kal's face continued to get even more red. She did not raise her head and covered herself more with her tail. It was clear that was all she could muster herself to say.

“So...” Anton tried to break the silence. “When my magic restored you to how you should have been, it also restored your...breasts to how they should be?”

“Yeah.” Kal whimpered. A hand moved and tugged at her chest. Finally she raised her head, and he could see what she meant. Worrying whether or not she was going to live and his own magic depletion had taken his full attention. Before he could vaguely make out that she was a woman but now they were much more prominent, however tightly bound by the cloth wrappings. If nothing else her breathing would be constricted.

“So...You'd like some armour or undergarments, or something like that? To help...”

Kal nodded, lowering her head straight after. Anton could not help but feel the heat rise up to into his face. He did not often have to talk about something so intimate and personal.

“Well...We'll figure something out. That's a conversation that we can have once we've finished the battle.” he said, moving to stand. “We've basically won. But we probably should be heading back. They'll be wondering where we are soon.”

Kal squeaked, shaking her head. She turned away and brought up both hands. A hand quickly unbound and rebound the cloth around her chest in a few short seconds. Now she seemed to breath more easily. They did seem to be a bit bigger, he tore his eyes away so she could not accuse him of ogling.

“Wait.” Kal blurted out, stopping Anton from moving. “Before that, before I realised that my not only my ears were back, I was going to say...”

Anton frowned and sat back down. Kal fidgeted with her hands, before sending one down her neck and pulling out her silver medallion. She sighed as she took it off and handed it to Anton. At first he did not understand why. He did not want to take mishandle something so personal and precious to her, but a tiny glint of green caught his eye. Turning the medallion over he saw a green gem stuck to the back. The same type of gem that they recovered from the Yellow Goblins.

He looked at Kal, now drenched in embarrassment. She lowered her head and looked at the ground.

“When did you manage to get this?” he pried it free, the green gem was held on by something sticky that he did not recognise. Thankfully it was not a concoction of the Kobold venom.

“When...When you were talking with Alfred and...Isobell? You told me to go to the money chest. Nobody was looking at me, so...”

Anton chuckled, eliciting an odd look from Kal. “I can't say that I'm particularly impressed.” Kal looked even more crestfallen. “Although maybe I am. But, I can...appreciate...where you come from. You didn't take the blue or purple gems...what were they called? Benitoite and Tazanite, that's right.”

Kal shook her head.

“If I took those it would have been very easy for you to realise they were gone and that I was one of the few allowed near it.” a strange smirk came across her face. “Don't go after the biggest prize when the smaller one will do. Someone will notice it's missing.”

“Is this all you've got?” he asked as innocently as possible. He handed back her medallion.

Kal winced even more. “I've managed to hoard some food that isn't mine. I've got a small bags worth. There....There is something else. But, I...I want to talk about that when we get back home. To Atros.”

“If you don't want to talk about it-”

“I do!” Kal cut him off. “But, not right here.”

“Alright. Kal, you are forgiven for this. But make sure there's nothing more in the future. Okay?”

Kal furiously nodded, a bright smile on her face. As if a weight had been lifted from her.

“We'd better get moving.”

“Are you alright to walk?” Kal asked. It was only a few minutes ago that she was at deaths door. And yet her whole concern was for him. “You've used so much magic on me.”

“I'll be fine.” Anton smiled. He pulled out one of the two remaining Karak fruit and ate half of it. Some of his mana returned, his whole body felt less wobbly. “What about you?”

Kal raised her eyebrows. “Oh. Right.” She ran her tail through her hands. “They would be very confused if they saw any of this. I've lost a few pieces of cloth, can you get something from one of the Orcs? I don't want to be exposed, not after this.”

A sheepish smile formed on her face bringing some warmth to his heart. He moved to the closest Orc and ripped off some cloth while Kal did her best to retie her her tail around her waist. It seemed such a shame to keep it hidden. But he did not want to have to fight his way out after all this. She took the cloth and wrapped it around her head to hide her other visible features.

After a minute she looked just like she had when they set off. There was nothing to reveal that she was a Beast-kin, though she looked more patchwork than before.

“You said that Orc had something different on him. A magical item...” he said as he looked over the bodies. “Do you know where it is?”

Kal nodded and moved to the leader Orc, effortlessly moving across the strewn debris. It was a little difficult for him to walk but that was from his lack of mana. It would improve soon. The leader Orc, Zig, looked a little different to the others. His face, apart from being torn apart by Kal, looked smaller than the others. His hair, even his beard, looked like it was stuck on. Kal recovered her blade with a satisfied grin on her face. There was another in Zig's hand which she also took. A trophy of the kill.

“He was a thrall.” Kal said, crouching and searching nearby for something. “So he must have been related to someone very important for the rest of the Orcs to even bother listening to him. Or not to be taken away by their shamans. I don't understand, it wasn't hidden that well. Maybe from a distance...But...”

“Maybe he was the boss's son of the new Orc clan.” Anton offered. “Hidden early on so he doesn't get taken away and when you're in command you could bring him out. Now he wanted his son to enforce his authority further. Maybe the Orcs all just went along with it because it was a benefit to them.”

He chuckled, looking down at Kal who was searching near his feet.

“Did that happen in...your world?”

“I...I suppose it did. All the time probably. There are quite a few people that will hang around someone rich and powerful to pick up the scraps, lavishing them with praise so they get more. All along the social ladder. No idea if that's what happened here.”

Kal hummed in agreement. She pulled out some silver coins, almost taking them for herself before leaving them in a small stack. Anton started searching the other side quickly finding more coins and other strange curiosities. None of which he understood.

“Better not let him know that you killed his son.”

“I have no intention of ever heading into those mountains.”

With a light gasp she pulled out a small silver disk from underneath his leg, handing it to Anton. The small disk looked like a larger version of Kal's medallion. Several bright gems adorned it though it was clear that it had been broken. A large crumple had cut along the middle and many of the crystals were broken or missing. Whatever it was, it was broken beyond use.

“I think Alfred will be interested to see this. I'm guessing this is what he used to break down the wall?”

Kal nodded, searching his pockets further. “He used it to bring down the building. I was lucky it was broken.”

“Lucky indeed. Anything else?”

“I...Hang on.”

She handed him the small pile of coins and the new knife. It was very thin, able to pierce through the the tiniest holes in armour. The blade that had found the gaps on her side. The blade was a very fine and smooth steel. The hilt and handle had swirls and tiny silver jewels, forming something like a bear on both sides.

“Seen anything like this?” he asked.

Kal looked more closely before shaking her head.

“No idea. Doesn't look like anything else the Orcs or Clansmen have. I don't know if they've got the skill or desire to make something like this. They could have stolen it.”

“Again, we'll see if Alfred or any of the others know what it is. We don't want to piss someone off by showing a weapon from a dead relative. In the meantime..."

Anton handed her the dagger. It was her trophy and he wasn't going to take it from her. Kal chuckled as she took it back. Kal sighed as she looked over the dead Orcs.

“This whole time has been interesting.” Anton said, Kal took a quick glance to the debris pile. “But, we'd better get moving. After this collapsed the Orcs and Clansmen turned back to the way they first came from. We took out quite a few of them but they could move really fast. I don't know how many are left.”

“Without him it seems they lost their direction and just went to where they know. They must have been hoping for him to open a new breach in the wall.”

Anton nodded. “Sounds about right. Verona's currently chasing them. You're lucky you managed to get a message out when you did. I was about to start pursuing as well. I was just finishing off one of those small splinter groups.”

Kal chuckled. “I'm glad I did. I still have quite a few things I need to do before that something like that happens to me.”

“We will get your mother free, and as many other Beast-kin as possible.” Kal said nothing but nodded warmly. He had made the promise and he intended to keep it.

Anton started up the piles of debris. It was slow going, to make sure that he did not slip, but he made progress. Kal remained very close to make sure he did not fall over. She was moving better than she had before. The pile was barely an obstacle for her now.

Near the top of the pile his foot stepped on a clay tile resting on another. It slipped out and his body fell forward. Kal moved and caught his side as he tried to steady himself. It was not enough as another tile slid out from underneath him. His whole body slumped down and brought Kal down with him. A sharp squeak escape her lips as she fell on her back, both hands holding onto him. A piece of burnt wood grazed his face.

He tried to laugh but only felt like a tremendous idiot.

I guess my mind isn't working too well, when I could have just gone around. Why didn't I?

“We should have just gone the other way. It's completely clear that way.” Anton said as he tried to stand again. “At least that way doesn't have all this to climb over.”

Kal laughed, a honest laugh. He took her arm and started to raise her up.

“I wondered where you two were.”

A deep feminine voice. Verona. She was standing on top of the debris pile and looked down at them very smuggly. Something on his shoulder pinched down very hard. Kal's hands were wrapped tightly around his arm and her chest was pushing into him.

Oh.

Verona smiled wildly as she looked between the both of them.

“The battle's over, so much as it can be. Quite a few of them got out through the first break in the wall.” she began, folding her arms with a thin look of annoyance on her face. “But, it looks like we've got something to discuss first.”

-----------------

Hello!

Kal's better, got her tail out (I like it) and got herself a shiny new blade for her trouble. Though she has lost her bow.

Still, got the charm that caused the problem, so good for them.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Verona's found Kal holding very closely to Anton's arm. Yay!

Thanks for reading, and for any and all donations!

Chapter 060 - Bonds

Chapter 060:

Verona stood looking over them both, continuing to stare in silence. She had clearly been in more fights since they parted. Her body was covered in a mixture of blood and dirt. Her face was still filled with a strange level of smugness as her eyes darted between the two of them. Specifically, Kal's arms wrapped around his.

Kal recovered from her stun and relinquished her grip. She stood up, nearly slipping on another loose tile, as she waved her hands wildly infront of her face.

“I'm, I'm sorry, Verona.” Kal blurted out. He could feel the panic coming from her voice. “We...we were trying to climb over the rubble and we fell. I-"

“It's fine.” Verona smiled, purposefully making her way to them. She took slow and deliberate steps to avoid loose rubble.

“I didn't-”

“I said, it's fine.” Verona had look of annoyance growing on her face.

“I...I slipped and Anton-”

“Kal, it's fine.” Verona frowned deeply as she stopped a few paces from them. She looked at Anton with a sly smile on her face.

“But-”

“Kal. Sit!” Verona barked.

Kal jumped, stunned by the volume of Verona's voice, and sat. The debris crunched as a few tiles slipped from underneath her. A moment passed as she looked around in surprise, finally letting out a loud sigh.

“I can't believe I did that.” Kal scratched her head.

“Part of your...Past?” Verona asked, looking very happy that Kal had just obeyed her.

Kal slowly nodded. She did not take her face away from Verona. “Yes. I shouldn't have done that. I just wasn't expecting you to yell it that loud. I'm...still having some issues with that.”

Verona hummed. “I'll try not to do that in the future.” She looked at Anton. “You should sit as well.”

Anton opened his mouth to protest but Verona put her finger on his lips, lightly shaking her head. A clear sign that she was going to get her way. He found a relatively flat spot and sat. Verona smiled and sat right next to Anton, leaning her head and body onto his side.

“Ah...” Verona tried her best to let out a purr. “This is comfortable. Though, not on my bum.” She smiled as the looked between the both of them. “You'll be glad to know that the battle is basically over.”

“Should we do this somewhere...a little more comfortable?” Anton asked.

Verona squeezed down extremely hard on his waist, enough to make him wince in pain. Verona's eye were firmly stuck on Kal. He could not see anything through the cloth wrappings.

“No.” Verona's voice was light and fluttery. “This is fine.”

He was not sure about that.

“So, how did you go?” Verona asked Kal.

Kal recounted what she had done to the Orc leader Zig. Verona was almost laughing and cheering by the end. She looked back at the piles and dead Orcs shook her head when she saw the Orc with half its face ripped off.

“Ha.” she cried out. “Got what's coming to him for trying to hurt you.”

Verona frowned as she leant closer to Kal, over Anton. “So. You're better now after Anton's magic?”

Kal nodded. “Much better. I feel the best I have in a long time.”

Verona smiled and resumed her previous position.

“Although.” Kal began, scratching her head. “That's not all that happened.”

“Oh?”

“Umm...” She poked Anton where he had put the emerald crystal. She wanted to come clean to Verona as well. Verona looked between them as Kal touched his leg. She didn't say anything. Anton showed the emerald crystal to Verona, who looked between them confused. Kal seemed unwilling to speak.

“Well, it seems that Kal was able to pinch this when we were at Maxill.” he began. “Just the green one. If she took the blue and purple ones it would have been easy to find.”

He chuckled as he looked at Kal. “She's a good thief.”

Verona hummed, Kal moved a few centimetres away.

“Wouldn't have realised if she hadn't told us. And after the fight, well, she's had a change of heart and wanted to return it.”

“Huh.”

Verona took the crystal from Anton's hand and looked more closely.

“If you had this, and you managed to get to somewhere remote in Graterious, how long could you live on this?”

Kal shuffled. “They could sell for twenty gold coins, probably less because it's me. They would lower the price since they can get away with it. But I could live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

“And you didn't?”

Kal hesitated before shaking her head. “No. I like it here, and being in Atros, with all of you, has been the best time I've ever had. I can't do what I still need to do on my own.”

Verona chuckled, nodding and smiling, handing the crystal back to Anton. “I'm glad you're here as well.”

Kal seemed to be a little bit better as well. Two of the people she trusted, the few in whole world, had forgiven her for stealing from them. He got the feeling that she would not steal from them again. Lest she break that bond.

“So that's what you've been up to.” Verona said. “Well, let me tell you what I've been up to.”

She straightened out her legs and tired to massage them through the leather armour.

“After you climbed up that building, and sorta' brought this one down, the Clansmen just...gave up.” A strange look overcame her face. “They were being left behind by the Orcs to deal with us and buy time for their escape. Someone yelled for them to surrender. So...They did. Again.”

“I...” Kal stammered. “I didn't think they were the sort of people to do that.”

Verona shrugged and smiled. “Neither did I, or did anyone else. But they did. A lot of them were dead by then. I think they just wanted it over with. The Orcs, however, started heading back towards the way they came into the city. Thanks to you, Kal, they couldn't just blast a hole through the wall.”

Kal perked up.

“But, they move really fast. They've escaped the city and are heading north. Towards the Border Forts.”

This was the part where Anton was called away to help Kal. He had not heard where the Orcs were going nor what their plan was. Verona had continued the chase. Her clothes, covered in more blood and dirt than when he last saw her, was a testament to her violent pursuit.

“There can't be many left.” Anton said. “They couldn't even take this city...What can they possibly do against alert fortresses?”

Verona shrugged. “Maybe they've got more of whatever broke the wall and brought this building down.”

“I don't think so.” Anton said, shaking his head and bringing out the crumpled artefact. Verona looked with awe at it. “Kal brought down the lead Orc who had this. This brought down the wall and building with that white magic. I doubt they'd have more than one and this looks really expensive to make. Without this they've got no hope left.”

Verona chuckled again. “You brought down someone that could do that...That's pretty darn impressive.”

“I'm glad I didn't die fighting him.” Kal mumbled happily, fidgeting with her fingers.

That brought another gaze from Verona.

“That explains something else. Every time you disappear from our sight you seem to have a new set of clothes.” Verona said, pointing all over her body.

“Oh.” Kal chuckled. “Some of my clothes were torn during the fight, so I had to get new ones. Otherwise everyone would have seen...” Kal trailed off at the end.

“Seen what?” Verona leant over Anton again, putting her full weight on his legs to get as close to Kal as she could. A few of her fingers deliberately dug into his legs.

“Um....my tail.” Kal admitted. “It was freed from the fight-”

“Hang on.” Verona righted herself. “Did you fix that before or after Anton healed you.”

Kal was silent for some time before she answered. “After.”

Verona smirked at him. “So, you saw her tail before me.” She did not sound angry, rather playfully annoyed.

“Yes. It's usually bound and hidden. When it started moving-”

“How do you know that?” A light frown on her face.

“Because...” he knew there was no way out of this. “Because she showed it to me.”

Verona punched him in the arm, relatively hard. “I wanted to see it as well. I wanted to hold the fluffy thing in my hands...” she looked hungrily at Kal. “Is it fluffy?”

Kal stuttered at the question. “I...I guess so. I really don't get to bring it out very often. Usually it's bound around my waist.”

“Bound...Well then.” Verona pouted. “Next time that we're alone I want to see it. I wanted to see what a Beast-kin's tail looks like.”

“I think it's quite impressive.” Anton began. “It's longer than you or I am tall.”

“Now I really want to see it.”

“It's not something I'll just show to anyone.” Kal spoke with some defiance.

“But you showed it to Anton?”

“I...Um...” Kal stammered weakly, looked to Anton for help. He could not think of anything to say. She lowered her head. He caught something flickering over Verona's face, before she let out a sigh.

“Alright. I've made up my mind.” she said as she stood up.

“About what?” Anton asked as they both stood up, brushing the dirt off their backsides.

“Something....Something interesting.” Verona didn't elaborate further. “But we've got a few things to deal with first.”

“Finishing off the Orcs?” Anton asked. He was starting to kind of worry what she was alluding to. Kal looked worried as well. It didn't sound like it was about the fighting.

“That's one of the things. But we'd need to get our horses first to chase them. But they're still at the Governor's Mansion. Alfred, Hemiskr and Conrad have taken that over so they can organise everything. We'd better ask them and find out what the next plan is.”

Verona started walking over the debris, Anton and Kal following. It was easier going on the other side but there were still many places where one could slip and hurt oneself. Several times he started to slip, seeing Kal making a slight reach for his arms but recoiled soon after. When they reached the ground Verona turned around and lunged at Kal for a hug. Kal squeaked before slowly relaxing as Verona buried her head into her chest. A little whimper escaped Verona's lips.

“I thought that you might have died.” she said. “I'm glad that you're alive.” Verona pulled back, a few tears in her eyes. “I don't want to loose one of my friends...I don't have that many.”

Kal opened her mouth, evident through the expanding cloth wrappings over her face, though shut it. She brought her rigid hands up and hugged Verona back, resting her head on Verona's. Verona chuckled and hugged her back.

Anton smiled at the scene. Though when they parted Verona frowned at Kal. Specifically at her eye hight.

“Kal?” she spoke lightly. “What is that?”

“What?”

Verona poked at her chest over the armour. “Even with that armour I can tell something’s different underneath...”

“Um...”

Verona looked at Anton, who could only smile awkwardly.

“Right. We've got a lot more to talk about then.” She walked up to him and pulled him close. “Did you just heal her or did you do that on purpose?”

It was clear what aspect Verona was talking about.

“I healed her to how she was meant to be if she wasn't stuck in Seocuria and lived a normal healthy life. So that's why-”

“So you do know?” Verona shook her head.

“She told me that it was an issue she didn't have before. She asked how you dealt with it.”

Verona huffed as she looked back at Kal. “Well, we're definitely going to be talking about this later. All of us...”

Verona smirked, the exact same look she had during the dream with their gods, laid down her spear and brought him down for a deep kiss. It lasted for some time as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When they finally parted her face was quite red, his own not far behind. She glanced back at Kal, chuckled, and kissed him again.

“That's a hint.” Verona smiled at him and refused to say anything else.

She looked at Kal for quite some time. Kal glanced either side to see if there was something behind her, but there wasn't.

No...It couldn't be. Could it? No. That's...That's just fanciful.

He glanced at Kal, who looked just as confused. Verona chuckled as she picked up her spear and started skipping towards the center of Nonbu'rn. Anton sighed lightly and shrugged, hopping that everything would work out fine in the end.

------------

Hello!

I know, a shorter chapter. Some of these newer ones will be smaller or larger than the usual 7,000 or so words. This is definately on the smaller side.

Anyway, Verona's up to something and quite miffed about it. Though I'm sure you can guess what she's up to...

Battle's bascially done, so now it's just wrapping up.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 061 - Questioning

Chapter 061:

Bodies littered the streets, more than he remembered when he first passed through. Very few were the green and white of the Qaiviel soldiers. Overall, the Qaiviel forces had come off quite well through the invasion. Verona walked at his side and picked up on his feelings.

“After you left a few more of those splinter groups came back and tried to fight us.” she poked a dead Orc with the butt of her spear. “There weren't that many but it gave everyone quite a surprise.”

There was nothing in her voice to hint at what she was planning for later. Whatever it was she was keeping it very close to her heat. She caught him looking and smiled, a mixture of her normal wide smile and her strange grin, before looking forward again. She retained a quick pace and made sure they followed close.

Slowly the civilians of Nonbu'rn emerged from their homes. Their dirty, tired and terrified faces greeted them as they stepped out into the ruined city streets. They looked at the dead littering the street and gasped. A few murmurs quickly turned into a chorus of shouts and yells. Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries looked oddly at one another, hoping to avoid whatever was building around them They moved away from the dead bodies and gave them lots of room.

The civilians picked up whatever weapons they could find and ran towards the Orc and Clansmen corpses, the soldiers darting away in surprise and fear, and began beating them with all their strength. Dead bones broke and blood sprayed out from the beaten corpses with every swing. Everyone else watched in silence. More civilians joined in with the venting, quickly becoming a new chorus of battle. Anton made sure to keep some distance from them. He didn't want to get dragged into this.

“If they're so angry why didn't they help in the defence?” Verona asked very quietly. “Less might have died if they helped.”

“The soldiers that fought and died might be their friends and family. They could be dead.” Anton said, Verona humming and looking more closely at their faces. Tears streamed down the faces of the attackers as they barred their teeth in rage. There was no limit to their strength as they unleashed their anger. Names were being screamed at the dead. Of the lost friends and families. “I'm guessing that they've lost sons and daughters, fathers and mothers. It's...It's probably best just to leave them be.”

Verona grimaced slightly. “I can relate to that.”

Anton did not want to bring up any more bad memories. She did not need the worst days of her life brought back.

She sighed and began walking again. Nobody spoke as they continued towards the inner wall. On the way they passed quite a few soldiers engaging in the revenge beatings on the dead Orcs and Clansmen. Some of the Qaiviel soldiers had parted from the main force and began joining in with the civilians. They seemed like they were from Nonbu'rn. Many looked away and allowed the venting to continue in peace.

The venting had seemingly finished by the time they reached the inner wall. Many soldiers manned the walls and kept a keen eye out into the sprawling and still smouldering streets. All of the gates had been raised, not that security mattered since two large holes had been blasted through the wall.

Many of those, on top and those either side of the iron gate, saluted as they passed through. Inside the large space and scattered throughout the marshalling yard were bodies being hauled away and stacked in a large pile. There was a distinction between Qaiviel and the enemy. Everyone was being stripped of anything of value, their weapons and armour, and the odd coin. He remembered how their religious teachings said the dead were meant to be burried. He doubted it applied to the Orcs or Clansmen.

Being buried in according with the teachings of the 'Holy Father' doesn't include your armour and weapons. I suppose that's fair in a time of war.

A soldier at the front of the mansion waved desperately to catch their attention. Anton returned it, much to the man's relief.

“My lords.” He, and the other soldiers, bowed deeply. “Alfred and the other commanders have taken residence in the highest room of Governor Eilis's mansion. They have asked anyone to guide you there.” A smile formed on his dirty face. “We've got a few high ranking prisoners that they need you to look over.”

“Umm. Please, lead on.” Anton found his words came out a little awkward. However the soldier seemed not to mind.

The inside of the mansion was a complete mess. What was once a well and lavishly decorated mansion had been brought to ruin; all the windows broken, paintings torn, books and ornaments scattered and destroyed. Dead Orc and Clansmen bodies littered the interior. They looked to have succumbed to wounds before the mansion was stormed by the soldiers. At least they didn't kill them as they lay wounded and dying.

They continued up many flights of stairs until the soldier stopped at the entrance to a large meeting room. The room looked quite damaged on one side, the side with the windows. This was the room that the Clansmen was blasted out from.

Inside was a large wooden table with the leaders of Qaiviel peering over it. He did not recognise a few of them but those that travelled with him were present. Behind them was an impressive library of colourful and bound books. Everything screamed of how much wealth this Governor had. Even the large plush white carpet stained with a massive pool of blood. Not that Anton knew where the Governor was now. No one had said anything about him.

Several mercenaries stood either side of the door, relaxed but alert, their weapons in positions where they could rapidly respond to a threat. It seemed they had done this sort of work before. The soldier knocked on the wooden door frame.

“My Lords. Anton, Verona and Kal have arrived.”

Without waiting for a response the soldier bowed and moved away, heading back down the stairs. Anton shrugged, getting the same response from Verona and Kal, and walked in. His feet squelched on a white carpet, filled with very fresh blood. There was no dead body present in the room. It must have already been removed. Verona scrunched her eyes but endured the iron smell.

“Good to see you three.” Alfred turned and smiled. He gave a wave and the others moved around to make space. “How did it go?”

“Alright. A few things happened but we're dealing with them.” Verona said, taking her position at the table. On the table was a detailed map of Nonbu'rn and the all the border forts. “We got most of the Orcs and Clansmen. The Clansmen have surrendered but the Orcs managed to escape and have fled the city.”

Hemiskr grunted. “They hacked down the few defenders there and poured out. Now they're just running north.” He smiled. “I think they're trying to head home.”

“Any still left inside the city?” Anton asked.

Non committal shrugs greeted him. Conrad was the first to speak up. “There's not going to be too many left. I've sent my company to scour the city. They won't be able to hide for long.”

“What about those outside?” Verona asked. “When are we going after them?”

“Let them run.” Alfred said with a wave. “They don't have any siege weapons and have lost nearly all their numbers. They obviously don't have the ability to destroy the walls with magic either. They'll be cut down by our soldiers there. I think that it's safe to declare our victory!”

Everyone cheered. He found himself getting a little caught up in their celebrations. Verona laughed and he was sure that Kal was smiling. He was glad to be done with the pursuit and fighting for now. To be able to head back to Atros with whatever they could get from Duchess Belinda.

Alfred raised his hands to stop the limited celebrations.

“Drinks can wait, though I'm sure it will flow when we start celebrating.”

“Governor Eilis has a whole bunch of really good wine.” Conrad chuckled. There were no bottles present. He must have already scoured the mansion.

“Although.” Alfred continued. “We are still left with quite a few questions and decisions we must deal with before we can truly celebrate.”

“Of course there is.” Anton mumbled.

Alfred frowned and looked back at the map. “We've got a message back from the Border Forts. And they're thankful for the warning.”

“They've only just found out?” Anton asked.

Alfred looked at everyone present. “It seems so. Quite interesting.”

“Where is the Governor?” Kal asked. “If...If he got the message-”

“I'm afraid that we don't know where he is. We can't ask him.” a female soldier spoke up. It was the soldier that they had seen at the breach in the outer wall.

“I don't believe I got your name.” Anton asked the woman.

She straightened up and gave a salute.

“Rosanna....Grand Mage Anton. Currently Acting Commander of the City Watch.” a difficult smile on her face. “I'm the eldest that survived. So...”

She did not look to be that old. The dirt and grime on her face muddled his guess at her age. Not that it really mattered.

“Thank you, Rosanna. Sorry I interrupted you, please, continue.”

She looked around in disbelief. People of his 'rank' were evidentially quite rude and arrogant going by the surprise on her, and a few other Qaiviel soldiers next to her. She coughed awkwardly.

“Umm, Thank you. We don't know where the Governor is. We've been asking around and we can only find out he, and his family, was here two days ago. After that he sort of disappears.”

“Nothing from the servants?”

“Nothing. Those that survived just say the same thing. He just disappeared.”

“That's very...worrying” Alfred mumbled.

“But you're sure they got the message?” Verona asked. “You said that you sent them out when they first attacked in Maxill.”

“I did.” Alfred nodded. He looked to Rosanna. “Did the Governor do anything odd before he left?”

Rosanna shrugged. “A day before he disappeared I think he was acting a little odd. Maybe.”

“He ran?” Hemiskr asked. Verona nodded in silent agreement. “That's a shame.”

“Governor Eilis won't be able to get far.” Alfred looked back at the map. “If I remember that fat little stump correctly he'll come running back. If the city was destroyed that would excuse him but, if the King finds out that he ran from his duty like this...”

“What's the punishment for...what he did?” Anton asked.

“If he turns up...” Alfred trailed off at the end. Anton suspected that it was not going to be good for this Governor. But potentially quite beneficial to Belinda. So long as it helped him in the end.

“The other problem, while we wait for news from the Governor, is what to do with our prisoners.”

“You're not going to do what you did at the Gravestone?” Verona asked, part of her gaze directed at Conrad. Kal nodded in agreement. Conrad remained stoic. For him it seemed to just be a part of his job.

“No. No, we're not going to do that.”

Rosanna, and the other soldiers, looked a little lost. Perhaps it was best that it was not explained to them.

“I think we have found someone very important that we should talk to before making any decisions. The Clansmen, that was thrown out of this room by the white magic. However he is in a bad state; most of his bones are broken, he's been blinded and I don't even know if he can hear us.”

“Sound like a job for you.” Verona smiled up at Anton.

“Indeed it does.” Alfred looked at everyone else present. “Continue organising the sweeps of the city and start repairs of the walls as best you can. Conscript the civilians to work if they are not willing. Everyone needs to work.”

Rosanna tensed but did not offer any objections. Everyone saluted before moving out very quickly. In a second they were already gone.

How willing will the civilians be once they've calmed down after their outburst of revenge against the dead? I remember stories from the wars that civilians were forced to do some of these things. Dig trenches and burying the dead...I hope they do it, and that the soldiers aren't just aggressive about it.

That left Alfred, Anton, Verona and Kal alone. Alfred clapped his hands, a warm smile on his face.

“So. Shall we go meet this person?”

---[]---

The Clansmen that lay infront of him, on what he assumed was Governor Eilis's bed, was a total mess. His body was essentially held together by his armour. Blood continued to stream out of his bleached eyes, only pathetic whimpers escaping his lips. His skin was red and raw, some of it already starting to turn a dangerous shade of purple and blue. Anton honestly had no idea how he was still alive. Everyone else seemed to be of a similar mind. A few green and white soldiers, who looked like medics, shook their heads as they tried to tend to him.

“Can you heal him?” Alfred asked.

“Sure. I don't have a problem with healing an enemy.” Anton said, He winced as the man weakly coughed up blood. “And, this is just painful to see someone like this.”

The Clansmen wheezed again. Anton moved closer to the Clansmen, the closest medic making room.

“Can you heal him?” A voice from a hidden corner of the room said deeply.

“I can.” Anton said, turning to see the owner. “I-”

His voice clamped down in his throat. Verona growled, activated her power and drew up blood crystal shards. Kal drew her new blade and moved infront of both of them.

Sitting in the corner, and surrounded by four Qaiviel soldiers, was an Orc. A very large one. He had a large axe next to his chair but did not seem to be willing to use it. He kept his arms folded on his massive muscled chest, staring directly into Anton's eyes.

“Who's this?” Anton asked, readying magic in his mind. The Orc paid him no attention.

“Not really sure.” Alfred said as he walked in. The Orc returned a glare, then turned his attention to the dying Clansmen. “We found him near this one and refused to be separated. He didn't fight back, so long as we didn't try and take his axe away from him.”

“This was the one thrown from the top of the mansion?” Verona asked, keeping her eyes on the Orc. “And survived.”

“Barely.” Kal quietly added.

The Orc frowned. “He wasn't thrown. Zig used some magic, blinded him and then blasted him through the window.” he shook his head. “Little runt bastard.”

“You going to stay still when I heal him?”

The Orc chuckled. “I thought you Holy Father types wouldn't heal one of us.”

Anton smiled. “I'm not one of those.”

He laid his hand on the Clansmen's arm and chanted the healing prayer. Most of his mana left him, Kal moving forward to make sure he did not fall over. The clansmen gasped as his body cracked and his wounds bound themselves together. His eyes regained their colour, and swivelled about as he gasped for air. The medics looked on stunned in silence.

Anton steadied himself by resting against a wall. Verona and Kal moved closer to Anton to shield him.

“Ughhh.” the Clansmen grumbled as his head rocked from side to side. He coughed violently, letting out some blood spray. The Orc looked on stunned. Slowly the Clansmen rose up, the Qaiviel soldiers pointed their weapons at the Orc as he tried to rise as well.

His eyes snapped into focus as he sat up. As he looked around, seeing the green and white of the Qaiviel soldiers as well as the room he was in, and let out a groan of disappointment.

“So.” the Clansmen voice was raspy and hoarse, clear as he rubbed his throat after speaking only one word. “I'm guessing that we've lost.”

“That you have.” Alfred said quietly.

The clansmen sighed, bringing his fingers up to his eyes. “That bastard Zig blinded me...And I'm pretty sure that I couldn't feel anything below my neck. Who healed me?”

Alfred smiled.

“I know it wasn't you, old man.”

Verona, still glowing, looked back at Anton.

“So, you're the one.” the Clansmen smiled at Anton. “Why?” he waved Anton down before he could answer. “Doesn't really matter now. We've lost.”

“I was asked to.” Anton answered. “But you were in such a bad state that I think I would have anyway.”

The Clansmen grumbled. “My thanks.”

“So, let us begin then.” Alfred said.

“Right. I understand how this works. My name is Ivano. Of the Blood Axe Clan.”

Alfred turned to the Orc. “What about you?”

The Orc relaxed at seeing Ivano able to speak freely. “Snakha. Of the Wrath of Doom.”

“The Black Fist are no more?” Anton asked, recovering some of his strength.

Snakha glared at him. He looked like the Orcs he had seen before, perhaps a little more wild.

“They are now. I suppose we're going to answer all your questions?”

“If you want to live.” Alfred said flatly.

“Alright.” Ivano answered for the both of them.

“What was your mission here?” Alfred asked.

He was not going to try and bamboozle both of these important prisoners with complex questions.

“I think you've already guessed it.” Ivano began. “But we were to attack the Border Forts, and its supporting cities in support of a major assault. They won't be attacking now. They'll see that we've failed and turn back.”

“Very well.” Alfred said. “I can understand why you wanted to destroy certain cities. But why burn down the smaller villages and hamlets on the way? They served little purpose in the campaign.”

Ivano grunted as he shook his head. “That wasn't my orders. We took food, but never burnt the villages down. Zig and the rest of the Orcs did that.” He glance at Snakha, who glanced briefly at his axe. “It was becoming difficult to control my ally by the end. I did send some Clansmen to stiffen their resolve to delay you but the villages were already burned down.”

Ivano started to look around. “Where is he?”

“Was he one dressed in yellow, orange and blue clothes?” Anton asked. “A bit like...a noble would.”

Ivano nodded.

“He's dead.”

Ivano looked at Snakha before they started to laugh. He didn't understand why but they carried on for some time.

Ivano wiped away a few tears. “I'm glad. I'm glad to hear that prick Zig is dead. After what he did to me.”

“Me too.” Snakha said. “The man was an idiot. So much anger in such a little Orc.”

“That Orc, Zig.” Anton began, showing them the broken silver charm. “Did he use something like this to break down the wall?”

Ivano looked more closely. “Yeah. That's the thing. I don't know where he got it. I had no idea he even had it until he destroyed the walls. I thought we would have to climb up each other. But, Orcs couldn't make something like that.”

Ivano looked at Snakha, who shook his head.

“I take it that you can't make something like this?”

“No. Looks like something from Bebbazar or Graterious. I'm not really sure which though.”

Anton looked at the silver charm. Ivano sighed as he massaged his arms.

“So. What happens to us now?” he looked towards Snakha. “We don't know much about any other campaigns against you. With this failure they're going to take some time before they try anything against you. I'm surprised that we're even alive. Qaiviel doesn't have a...reputation, for letting Clansmen, or Orcs, who invade their lands live.”

“Not this time.” Alfred replied. “As I have been bestowed with the authority of the Duchess Belinda-”

“That's the one from that little city...Maxill?” Ivano interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Huh. I guess she did alright out of this.”

“She's alive.” Snakha said, keeping his arms folded. “If you'd went...”

They both smiled and chuckled, the same way someone would awaiting imminent and unavoidable death.

"One moment." Anton said, turning to Alfred. "Could I just have a moment."

Alfred nodded and they both left the room. Verona and Kal moved to cover them but remained inside.

"What?" Alfred asked.

"What were you about to do to them?"

"They were going to be ransomed back to their respective clans. Recouperate some of the losses."

Sounds fair. But there might be something in this...

"I have a request to make of you." Anton said as Alfred narrowed his eyes. "I would see them return to their lands. Without a rime wasting ransom."

"What?" Alfred didn't seem angry, rather confused and curious about his decision.

"As a favour to me, and Atros, I would owe you for doing this."

"We already owe you for coming to our aid."

"Consider this as two favours in one, so I owe you again."

Alfred frowned. "Why?"

"They might be usefull some day."

"A Clansmen and an Orc?"

Anton nodded.

Alfred sighed after looking deeply into his eyes. "Very well. We're making a considerable amount of gold anyway. Having a favour from a Lightning and Fire Grand Mage is more valuable than that...Alright."

Alfred led them both in. Ivano and Snakha hadn't moved. They kept all their attention focused on the door way waiting their return.

“With the authority of Duchess Belinda.” Alfred said louder than before. “And with Governor Eilis's...absence, I have decided that you, and the rest of survivors, will be returned home.”

Silence filled the room. Nobody believed what they had just heard, least of all Ivano and Snakha. Verona and Kal looked the same way, though far less.

“What?” Ivano said quietly. “Is...Is this some sort of joke?”

“If we tried to ransom you for gold, it would take seasons to organise something.” Alfred explained. “Back and forth as we haggled over the amount of gold. And that gold would be from some another Kingdom or Empire that you stole it from. We would have to house and feed you, while we are trying to rebuild. It's better for us to just send you back. Alive.”

Ivano grimaced. “Broken. But Alive. I wonder what they'll do to us when they found out we've failed.”

“I have a question.” Anton said, getting a nod from Alfred. He moved for a chair, one of the medics got it for him. “Why?”

Ivano waved Snakha over to sit next to him. The Qaiviel soldiers relented as Snakha dragged the heavy wooden chair of the wooden floor, sitting next to the edge of the bed.

“Why attack the Kingdom? Why any of this?”

Anton nodded.

“We want to take back the lands that were taken from us.”

“Oh not this again.” Alfred shook his head. “I've heard this story before. Do you want their version or ours?”

This Clansmen, and Orc, don't seem like the usual screamers. Maybe if I can get on their good side, even if it's just asking about something like this, that might get us a line into the Deweth Clans and the new Orc clan. I get the feeling that we're going to need everyone we can get to deal with those Demons. And this, this could be one of those defining moments in history. The biggest changes in history can start in places like this.

How often would I be able to talk to a Clansmen and an Orc that aren't going to kill me? I don't think there's going to be many.

“Let's start with the Clansmen version. But, please keep it to the important bits.”

Ivano shrugged. “Fair enough. Our legends say that all the lands in the Shattered Kingdoms, all of them, even the lands controlled by the elves, once was ruled by the Deweth Clans. You, and the rest of the Kingdoms and Empires, are theives and trespassers. And it is the duty of every Clansmen to reclaim the lands.”

He and Snakha laughed. “You can see how well that goes.”

“You don't sound all that enthused by your quest.” Anton said.

Ivano scoffed. “Of course not. A waste of time and people. All it does is make you hate us even more. There's so many of you in every place we go, and so few of us. There's no real point. Besides, I'm sure it's just an excuse to enrich our leaders. We're more concerned with loot and slaves than conquest...”

He rolled up his left sleeve, riddled with scars and missing hunks of flesh. On his forearm was a large deeply branded cross. It drew all attention away from the other scars.

“I got this from a Merchant Lord in Bebbazar.” Ivano sighed. His face became very sad as he looked deeply at it. “They didn't like us raiding their lands, for some reason. They killed so many of us. When you keep loosing like this...Did you find a Clansmen woman-”

Alfred nodded. “We did, in the Governor's office. She suffered a bad head wound but she's alive. Barely. Our healers are doing their best. She'll have some scars but she'll live.”

“But she's alive?”

“She is. Currently she's with the other prisoners.”

“I understand. But I'm glad that she's alive. I don't know why Zig didn't kill her.”

He looked at Snakha who could only shrug.

“I was trying to teach her that our current ways will be the death of us. But...”

“So, if you could be in control of the Deweth Clans, what would you do differently?” Anton asked.

Ivano frowned and looked at Snakha, who desperately held back his smirk. He seemed to be a trouble maker. Whomever the Orc really was.

“Quite a few things would change. Many things. For the better of everyone in all the lands.” Ivano left it at that.

He continued to stare at Anton with a burning intensity.

Well, I wouldn't divulge everything to an enemy that has captured me. He might think I'm just playing a sick game with him. Either that or he might just say what he thinks I want to hear. Though I did bring him back from the brink so at least I can get a few words out of him. This might be a good thing...

Anton smiled as he looked towards the Orc.

“I can guess the Qaiviel version of the Clansmen story. So what's your story? You're from that new group, the Wrath of Doom?”

Snakha scoffed. “We're only here because we owe the Deweth Clans. None of us have any desire to end up in your lands. Or to die here.”

“Did you willingly join the Wrath of Doom? Or were you from the defeated side, the Black Fist clan?”

A flash of anger overcame his face. “I did what I had to do to survive in that place.”

“You don't sound like the other Orcs.” Verona said, keeping her power active and the blood shards floating around her.

Snakha shrugged. “I guess not. They're not like the Black Fist Orcs. They wouldn't have been dumb enough to follow the Clans here. And loose almost thirty thousand Orcs. I was forced along and I tried to enjoy the ride as much as I could.”

He sounds like he's not exactly happy with the new leadership. I wonder what he'd say if he found out that Lazgar, and the Black Fist Clan, survived and was heading south. I think that might be a bit early to tell.

Ivano frowned and turned to the Orc. “You killed someone for that axe.”

Snakha held up his axe, not that he seemed top be about to use it. The Qaiviel soldiers kept a keen eye on it. The axe looked quite good but not enough to kill someone over. Just as Anton was about to ask if that was the truth Snakha chuckled.

“The old clan might have been good, but I've never been.” a look of satisfaction of his face as he twirled the axe in his hand. The axe had blood on it, some of it looked old. Maybe.

Guess it's too early yet. I wonder if he's a secret loyalist? A little early to tell yet. I would need to find Lazgar first. He said he was heading the to the Red Spines. When we've got a bit more privacy I'll ask Alfred about that place. We'll see about heading there after Graterious and Seocuria.

“Thank you.” Anton said. “So, what do we do now?”

“Get them as healthy as we can before we dump them back on their side of the border.”

Ivano chuckled. “That-”

Something resounded through the air. It was a horn but far louder than anything they had. The high pitched noise travelled through, wherever it was from it was very far away, and yet it could reach them inside the mansion. Alfred and Ivano tensed.

“Alright, what's that?” Anton asked. Snakha grunted as he looked around.

“You two seem really nervous.” Verona added.

Ivano chuckled as he looked at Verona. “That, little Blood Berserker, is the sound of a Knight Order.” he shook his head. “They're coming to kill anyone still alive.”

“Quite a few of the Orcs made it out of the city and headed north.” Anton said.

Snakha sighed. He knew that whatever deals they were making in here would mean nothing against the Knights. Alfred was of a similar mind.

“Do you know the leader?” Anton asked Alfred.

“Maybe. I just hope that I talk some sense into them before they come in here and just kill everyone.”

------------

Hello!

The invasion has been beaten, and now they're cleaning up. Only got a little chat before being interupted. New issues on the horizon. Also got the corrupt Governor to deal with, in a way that benefits Anton and Belinda. So we'll see how that plays out.

Verona's holding off on her little plan for the future. She's smart enough to wait until everything's done.

Anyway, that's about it.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 062 - Knight Order

Chapter 062:

Another deep horn blast resounded through the battered city of Nonbu'rn. Every soldier and mercenary stopped and looked towards the source in the north. Nearly all were confused as the fear rose in their faces. Was it another attack? Or had the Border Forts been breached and now the enemy were pouring in?

Anton, Verona, Kal and Alfred mounted their horses and rode towards the northern section of the outer wall. Qaiviel soldiers moved out of their furious charge. They dismounted and found a ramp up to the top of the wall. Alfred ran up the ramp, Anton was surprised that he could move that fast. A few soldiers on the wall saluted, Alfred waved it down, though their attention was clearly focused to the north.

Amongst the rolling grassland hundreds of Orcs, and a few Clansmen, ran chaotically northwards. Any hint of organisation had long been forgotten. They were simply running for their lives.

The mountain range did not extend as a continuous wall. A large gap existed in the middle, smaller snow covered hills forming the a wide passage through the mountain. These hills looked traversable, with some difficulty, unlike the sharp mountains either side. It was clear why the Deweth Clans and Qaiviel were so interested here.

“I bet they didn't think they would be running home like this.” Verona said quietly.

“No they didn't.” Alfred replied. “They won't forget this humiliation for some time.”

Another deep horn blast came from even further to the north. Anton had not looked too closely towards the mountains when they first arrived, his attention had been focused on stopping the enemy.

Below the snowy hills were dozens of white castles, as if they rose out of the grasslands. The Border Forts. Some where huge sprawling fortresses while others were just huge. Each looked like they would be very difficult to take on its own. But these were close enough that they could support one another. Between each of the fortresses were green open expanses. Perfect for the Qaiviel Knights to cut down attackers.

From one of the larger forts towards the center, hundreds of green and white knights rode forth. He did not need his eye enhancement to know they were the knights. Another horn blast and the knights started to fan out into a line. There were far more than he first thought. A thunderous wall of horse and man.

“A whole chapter of a Knight Order, eight hundred armoured knights. Well, those Orcs won't last long.” Alfred looked to Anton. “Have you seen mounted warfare before?”

“Only a few times.” Anton replied. “But they were mopping up armies that had been beaten by magic or by foot soldiers. But nothing like this.”

“Dana would like to see this.” Verona added. “To see how these Knights fight. I think that she would like to hear everything she can about using horses like this.”

“I don't think it's going to be much of a battle.” Kal mumbled.

Anton agreed. The enemy was not trying to defend themselves. They remained spread out and running desperately to the north. Even with his limited knowledge of this sort of warfare he knew that they wouldn't last long.

Alfred grumbled, lightly nodding as he held tightly onto the stone wall. “Although, they'll take all the glory of the battle. Make it out that this was the most important battle.”

“Are they that bad?”

“Perhaps. But maybe...” Alfred took out his telescope and looked at the knights at the front of the charge. Slowly a small smile formed on his face. “Perhaps we might be able to avoid that this time. Duchess Belinda might even be able to get more territory than she first thought.”

Alfred did not elaborate. Anton used the eyesight enhancement magic and tried his best to follow Alfred's line of sight. It was quite hard, but Anton guessed that it was at the centre of the approaching Knights. Six in the center had a small blue flame on their shields, chest armour and helms. They must have been the leaders. The others only had one on their shields.

The knights spread out into a line facing the retreating enemy. An impressive and intimidating wall of white, of muscle and iron, drew closer and closer on the enemy. A few tried to stand and fight, but most just wanted to run away.

A few Knights broke free from the line and charged forward.

“What are they doing?” Kal asked.

“Trying to win glory?” Verona offered with a light shrug. “Maybe they want to be ones that say they killed the most.”

“Look more closely.” Alfred said. “They've got bows.”

The Knights brought out large white bows and began firing at the enemy. They were too far away to see the arrows being loosed, but the Orcs started falling down well ahead of the Knights. He had no idea how accurate they were shooting whilst on horseback. They were firing very quickly. Many fell before they began to slow down and reformed the line with the other knights. Lances lowered as the whole line picked up speed.

Was that part of their usual tactic? To pepper them with arrows...to break a formation? And then attack them. But that could just make them clump together, but it could break the enemies line... I wonder if we can ask what that tactic is.

Maybe they just needed some live practice with their bows.

Screams erupted from the Orcs as the Knights crashed through them. It was not so much a battle as a slaughter. A few tried to stand their ground but they were crushed underneath the wave of horses. Behind the wave the dead Orc's bodies and blood had been trampled into the grass. A red smear trailing through the green. Nothing stood up after they passed. Even the Knights themselves started to become stained with blood.

Three minutes later the whole thing was over. The Knights circled back and ran through the enemy again just to make sure. Nothing was spared, no attempt given to ask for their surrender. Anton wondered what they would try to do with the prisoners they caught. If they were killed it would trash any potential good relations with the Orcs and, more importantly, the Deweth Clans. Part of him doubted if he could find another way into their factions. Especially if they were both hostile to any outsider.

The few soldiers on the wall cheered out in victory. What they witnessed was not really a battle. Still they had all gone through hell with nothing but pieces of iron and leather between them and death. He was not going to ruin their victory now.

“So, what now?” Anton asked, the cheers starting to die down.

Alfred continued to look out with his telescope. He smiled.

“No need to worry about that. They'll be coming to us next.”

“To see if we need help?”

Alfred remained silent.

The Knights reformed themselves, after another sweep of the bloody smear over the grass, and made their way to the northern gate of Nonbu'rn. Anton saw Alfred tense slightly as the Knights came ever closer.

“Open the gate!” a Knight at the front ordered.

Anton glanced at Alfred who held a stoic face. That knight did not seem to be the one that he was looking at before. These knights only had the small blue flame on their helms, not the one on their chest or helms. He could not see where their leaders were. The Qaiviel soldiers looked towards Alfred. He nodded and the gate rumbled open. Some of the Knights scoffed and jeered as they entered Nonbu'rn, even audible from on top the wall. Alfred waved from them to follow him down.

The Knights rode triumphantly into the city. Anton could feel the apprehension between the dirty soldiers and the gleaming white and green, and blood red, Knights.

“Who's in command of this mess?” the first Knight that entered the city barked the moment he stopped. The Qaiviel soldiers looked at one another as Alfred was still walking down the ramp.

Here we go...

The Knight raised his helm, a handsome face scowling down at the dirty Qaiviel soldiers beneath him. He, and every knight around him, seemed to regard them as literally beneath them. They barely restrained their horses from hitting the soldiers.

“Do you not bow in the presence of a Knight?” he growled.

Many of the Qaiviel soldiers looked awkwardly at one another before giving a rough bow. Most of the Knight's chuckled, like this was their due.

Yep. This is going to be pretty terrible.

“Well? I asked you a question. Have a few little Orcs taken away your voices too? Or are you all too stupid to understand words?”

“Wow...These Knights really think that everyone's beneath them.” Verona mumbled into his ear.

“Perhaps they've spent all their time in a life of privilege.” Anton offered. “Where they're the heroic protectors of the realm, protecting these people that are beneath them. And they deserve adulation. At least that's the vibe that I'm getting from them. I could be wrong...He could just be a dick.”

Verona chuckled, even Kal let out something akin to a weak laugh.

“Well?!” the Knight was getting even more angry. Evidently he was not used to people not answering his questions right away.

“Forgive me, my lord.” Alfred said as he reached the ground, giving a deep bow. “My legs are not what they used to be.”

Guess you need to play the part. For now, at least.

The other Knights were still filing into the city, some moving past him but all remaining on their mounts. Anton still did not know if he was a leader. Those with the blue flame were far more likely to be in that position. This Knight might just be high up in their command structure. And was taking the initiative.

“And who are you?” The Knight lent forward along his horse, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Alfred, Servant of Duchess Belinda. Here to counter the Clansmen and Orc invasion.”

“You call that an invasion?”

Before Alfred could speak more another Knight came towards them. This one's armour was more ornate. The most noticeable thing was the small blue flame on his helm and chest plate.

“Alfred...I never would have thought that I would hear that name again.” the new Blue Flame Knight spoke with a gruff voice through his closed helmet. Alfred smiled, an honest smile, while the first Knight frowned towards the Blue Flame Knight. “But I didn't expect to see you here. So far from your little home near the forest.”

“Things have changed.” Alfred said. He took a glance back at Anton. “Quite a few things. Hopefully for the better.”

Alfred approached the Blue Flame Knight, only for the first Knight to draw his sword. Anton barely saw it happen. “You dare approach without an invitation from my Lord.”

Alfred stopped, his body completely still as the sword hovered at his throat. The Blue Flame Knight sighed as he shook his head.

“Put that thing away, Castor.” he commanded, the Knight following his order. “Apologies Alfred. Some of the new Knights need to learn how to talk with the common folk properly. So they're not hated. Or killed by an angry peasant with a pitchfork through their throat.”

“Lord Marcus?” he said weakly, only to be glared at.

Castor, the first Knight, grumbled as he withdrew his sword. Alfred shook his head as Lord Marcus dismounted from his horse. He removed his helmet, a dark brown head of hair and greying beard underneath. His face was not particularly ugly or handsome. Plain but a sense of strength deep within. Many scars adorned his face. This man lead from the front.

“Quite a bit it seems.” Alfred took his mailed hand and shook it roughly.

“Indeed. I never thought I would see you again Alfred.”

“Neither did I.”

“When was the last time I saw you?...Oh yes, just after the last Centaur invasion. By the Holy Father, that was a wretched time. Then you were heading off to Seocuria. How did that go my friend?”

Alfred looked down at one of his legs.

“Not well. But, I survived.”

“It's still good to see you alive. Where you honestly telling the truth when you said that Belinda, that little fiery brat, sent you? Doesn't sound like her.”

Alfred nodded.

“She has grown well under your guidance.”

Anton could see Alfred almost wince.

“Well...” Alfred chuckled and smiled again. “Very recently so, at least.”

Marcus frowned, his face going dark. “Indeed. I've heard quite a few bad things coming from her lands. The territory she manages at the behest of the King. Incompetence and decadence, I kept hearing. I was in half a mind to head there myself next winter to see if it was true. If it was, I would have no choice but to issue the King's Justice. My friend.”

Alfred paled at the end. It was easy to guess that it would have ended with Belinda's death at the very least.

Marcus's face softened. “Though what I've been hearing lately is that it's come good. Very good. I'm not one to pry, but, what happened?”

“Perhaps later.” Alfred said, letting out an awkward and nervous chuckle. “Once we've got everything sorted.”

“Right.” Marcus clapped his mailed hands. “Chatting for latter. We've still got a war going on.”

Marcus turned to Castor, the man instantly straightening his back.

“Castor. Organise the Knights to sweep through the city-”

“Actually,” Alfred interrupted, Castor looked on furiously while Marcus simply stopped mid sentence. “There are no more Orcs or Clansmen fighting within the city. We've been doing sweeps ourselves and we haven't found any for some time. All are captured or dead.”

A few murmurs of disbelief ran through the Knights. They looked at the Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries. When they made no move to the contrary, they appeared to respect them a little more.

“The messenger you sent said there were tens of thousands of Orcs and Clansmen assaulting Nonbu'rn. Are you saying they are all dead? With just this force?”

Marcus looked at the damage wrought on the city. It was not particularly bad here but areas deeper into the city were clearly more damaged.

“Dead or captured.” Alfred replied with a smile. “The city is calm and safe.”

Marcus seemed quite impressed, a smile coming to his scarred and bearded face. The Knights chuckled, though Marcus quietened them with a raise of his hand.

“And how did you manage that?” he asked. “Furthermore, how did your little city...Maxill, survive the full army? The messenger was a little thin on details.”

Alfred coughed and waved Anton forward, also waving at Verona and Kal.

“Commander Marcus, I have the honour of introducing...”

Oh. We didn't have a discussion on what I'm, or any of us, are to be called.

“Grand Mage Anton....”

No attempt at hiding it then.

“One Lady Verona, and Lady Kal.” Alfred looked at Marcus. “They are some specialised mercenaries that Duchess Belinda hired to defend our lands.”

Marcus frowned, his eyes flickered from Kal, who he gauged as unimportant. She didn't even have a bow with her, and his stuck on Verona. Specifically her hair.

“Didn't think you'd manage to get someone from the Silver Eagle Clan on your side. Very strange.”

“I'm not from one of those Clans.” Verona said with a frown. “I've only just found out that I'm meant to be related to them. It doesn't matter to me at all. My hair colour doesn't make me good or bad.”

“Do not speak unless you are being spoken to.” Castor unsheathed his sword again and lowered it towards Verona.

A brief of flicker of fear ran through Alfred's eyes, Marcus caught it. He looked at Verona, who was growling back, bearing her teeth. Marcus raised his hand to stop him.

“It's fine.” he said, the sound of a sword slowly being sheathed coming from Castor. “I'm guessing that that you three aren't from Qaiviel? I'm sure that I would have heard of a Grand Mage by the name of Anton.”

“If he really is a Grand Mage.” Castor said. “Nobody that young could be a mage of that power. Probably just a mage with lots of scrolls and magical items.”

Castor waved his hand dismissively, several of the Knights chuckling and nodding in agreement. Marcus paid them no mind. This time. If Anton could not deal with the jeers of a few how could he be expected to be a powerful mage.

Anton coughed. “My companions and I were hired by Duchess Belinda to defend the Qaiviel Kingdom. We have done our utmost to do that.”

“That's heartening news, for the Duchess's sake. She's gone above her position to help secure this Kingdom.” Another scoff came from Castor, which Marcus ignored again.

“If you are a Grand Mage...” Marcus looked to the Qaiviel soldiers who nodded furiously.

“He is...My lord.” one of the soldier spoke up, one that had travelled with them from Maxill. “Killed thousands of them at the Gravestone, all by his-self. And more here.”

Castor scoffed but Marcus threw him a glare, silencing them with one look.

“Even more interesting. But, where have you been for so long? You clearly aren't that old, and someone this young and powerful could not be hidden. I've never heard of your name before...You don't have a name assigned to you by any of the academies. The Qaiviel Kingdom would not just let someone like that wander freely. So...who are you?”

Marcus's face was completely unreadable as he looked through Anton.

Didn't really think too much about that. Though, it's obvious in hindsight. Someone that could level a city wouldn't be just some mercenary. Whomever the rulers are would do their utmost to keep them controlled, through money or force...more likely money.

“Commander Marcus, I am afraid to say that I have lost my memory and can only remember until the beginning of this spring. I have been travelling to try and recover it. During my travels I came across Alfred and Duchess Belinda. I agreed to fight with them when they explained what was happening.”

“Curious...” Marcus trailed off. “I trust Alfred's words. Though, I would like to see some of that power.”

Alfred coughed before Anton could reply.

“Perhaps later. We still have more to do before we can relax and celebrate our victory.”

“Quite.” Marcus turned and mounted his horse in one swift motion. Despite wearing the armour he did not need someone to help him. A strong man. “It is quite crowded here. Do you have somewhere with a bit more space? Somewhere where we can spread out.”

“Outside Governor Eilis's mansion, there's a marshalling area that's...almost clear.” Alfred said. “There should be enough room there for your Knights.”

“Good to hear. We'll meet you there.”

Marcus whipped the reins of his horse, leading the Knights towards the center. More Knights let out a snigger as they passed them, a few even tried to kick some Qaiviel soldiers and mercenaries that got too close to them.

Alfred released a large breath in relief.

“That could have gone a lot worse.” Alfred said quietly.

Anton moved closer. “They seem like they could be assholes. You thought they could have killed you?”

“It was a possibility. I had no idea of how close Duchess Belinda was to death. I didn't know they were taking that close attention to us.”

“Seems that it all turned out alright.”

Alfred chuckled. The last of the Knights passed, and the Qaiviel soldiers seemed just as relieved as Alfred now that they'd passed.

“We shouldn't keep them waiting.”

They started following the Knights moving towards the Governor's mansion.

“So who are those jerks?” Verona asked. “Are all the Knight's like that?”

Alfred shrugged. “From what I remember, yes. Sometimes a lot worse. The Blue Firestorm Chapter is pretty good by most standards.”

“I'd hate to see a bad one.”

“Pray to your old gods that you don't meet anyone from the Black Riders. Or the Golden Roar.”

Saying that name caused Alfred to shudder. Anyone with a name like that was bound to have some problems. They said nothing more as they walked in silence.

---[]---

A large table had been brought out from inside the mansion so everyone gathered could attend the meeting. All of the local leaders had been gathered and Commander Marcus, Castor and two other Knights attended, both equipped with a bow and large sword. Other than Marcus the other three Knights seemed rather annoyed at the presence of everyone except Alfred, and even that was at the behest of Marcus. Marcus and Alfred seperated from the group for some time, chatting rapidly amongst themselves. When they parted Marcus patted Alfred on the back that nearly hurt the old man.

Rosanna laid down the map of Nonbu'rn and the surrounding Border Forts. Marcus studied it for some time before speaking.

“Before we begin, I believe that we are missing someone.”

“The Governor?” Anton offered, quickly remembering who he was speaking in the presence of. Castor and his Knights scowled angrily but did not reach for their weapons. Marcus's words lingered in their heads.

“Indeed. Where is he?”

“From what we heard he fled well before the siege even began.” Alfred said. "Like a coward."

“I doubt that.” Castor said. "I've always known him as a noble and respectable man. Of good blood...and not diluted by the rabble." Anton immediately did not like the direction he was travelling.

“He ran when he could have done something to get them ready to fight.” Anton replied. “He left two days before the assault and did nothing to ready the people for the siege. Just running...That's hardly a competent or caring leader. Besides, you didn't even know it was happening until we sent you a message. And Nonbu'rn was already burning by then.”

He felt a silent agreement coming from Rosanna and those present from the city watch. They would not be forgiving the Governor for some time.

“Why are you here, mercenary?” Castor nearly spat out the word mercenary. “The battle has already been won, and you are not needed here.”

“Anton is here at my behest.” Alfred sternly replied. “And he is not someone you can just dismiss because you are a Knight. He isn't from Qaiviel, so he does not need to bow and scrape your arse.”

The space was silent, except for Marcus letting out the faintest chuckle. Castor's face reddened. “Fine. But his two...friends, do not need to stay.”

“They actually do.” Anton spoke back. “And-”

“And how can we trust this silver haired Clansmen traitor?” Castor continued. “Or the one that's dressed like a wounded shambler, too ashamed to show their face-”

“You'd better shut your fucking mouth before I burn you alive.” Anton said flatly.

His words took everyone by surprise, even himself. Conrad and Hemiskr glanced at one another before slowly backing away. Nobody noticed, their attention focused on Anton and Castor, except Marcus. He took a deep breath and folded his arms, content to let this play out.

“We have been chasing sixty thousand soldiers, and we're all pretty tired. Phyisically and mentally.” Anton continued. “And I am not in the mood to deal with some stuck up Knight that thinks the world revolves around him. Especially after you just insulted people very important to me.”

“Really?”

“Castor.” Marcus said, equally quietly. “You are a very brave and courageous fighter, none can match your skill in swordsmanship, but I want you to use what excuse you have for a mind between your ears. Before you say anything else, think and look for once.”

“What-”

“You have just insulted this man's companions. Companions, who in their own right look like they could be dangerous, but you also insulted a man that claims to be a Grand Mage-”

“A spurious claim.”

Anton sighed and raised his hand. Six lightning and fire bombs floated around him. Castor stumbled backwards in surprise while Marcus gritted his teeth.

“You see?”

“I've never heard of a Grand Mage looking like him.” Castor blurted out. His hand instinctively reached for his sword. That seemed to be his response to everything.

“So, because you've never heard of it before, it cannot possibly be true?”

“I...” Castor did not finish.

Marcus turned to Anton, some beads of sweat running down his face as he glanced at the hovering and thrashing balls of magic. “Please forgive Castor. He is a a good Knight and leader of soldiers, but doesn't think things through. Words...tend to just come out of his mouth. Especially when dealing with other people. I put it down to his youth and fiery blood that runs through his body. He's a good man that's a great benefit to Qaiviel, and I do not want to see him dead this day. I ask for your forgiveness in this matter.”

Marcus bowed his head. Conrad, and the other Knights, looked on shocked but soon followed. He didn't really mean it, nor had he learned anything.

“It's fine.” Anton said, withdrawing the magic. A wave of relief overcame those present. “But, I'm not just going to let it slide without an apology of some sort from him.”

“You-” Castor raising his mailed finger.

“Castor!” Marcus yelled.

Marcus gave him a death glare, Castor immediately quieting. He refused to speak. Anton grumbled. Perhaps he could get something more out of this.

“My friend,” Anton nodded towards Kal, who looked towards him. “Lost her bow when she was fighting eight Orcs, by herself.”

Everyone looked surprised at Kal.

“She only has three daggers to her now. So...” Anton looked at one of the Knights to Castors side. “I think one of those white bows will be a good repayment. I think one of those...and I'll let it slide.”

Verona chuckled, resting her spear over both shoulders. Doing so brought attention to the marks on her hands. They were not glowing but were clearly obvious against her white skin. Marcus frowned and nodded to Castor. The smugness in his face faded as Marcus continued to stare.

“What?” Castor spluttered out, looking back to the bow wielding Knight. “A single Bleached Tri-Bane Bow is worth more than a quarter of this city. I could buy a small mansion for myself if I sold one.”

“And yet you disgraced yourself.” Marcus replied, folding his arms. “And our Order. So, give them the bow. We'll get you another one.”

The Knight grumbled and handed the bow to Castor. With a scowl he handed the bow to Anton.

“My apologies, Grand Mage.” Castor mumbled through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry for my words."

“Thank you.” Anton said as he took the bow. He could had said something further but Castor did not need further indignation added to him.

The bow was beautifully made, and extremely light. The wood was bleached white with faint swirls followed the grain of the wood. It was perfectly smooth in his hands. He barely registered it's weight in his hand. And yet it felt incredibly strong.

Anton turned to Kal, her body jumping a little as he handed it over to her. She took it in silence, not to further annoy Castor and his Knights, and studied the bow. She looked extremely pleased with it. If she did not have to wear her cloth wrappings he was sure that we would be smiling like the world's happiest child.

“Thank you.” she whispered to him. He gave a little nod, as she placed the bow on her back, and turned back to the map.

“With that...Issue, sorted.” Marcus looked at a sorry Castor. “We should actually begin.”

No one offered any objections.

“Very well. Are we certain that this was the only attack the Qaiviel Kingdom coming through the Accursed Forest?”

He looked towards Anton. Perhaps he wanted to see if he was going to contribute, especially after taking away a very expensive sounding bow.

“We interrogated a few Clansmen in the forest.” He began, Verona and Kal letting out a noise of discomfort. “We were very thorough in our questions. This is the only attack in support of their main offensive. The prisoners we asked said the same thing, and they were the commanders. So they should know something about another planned attack more than just grunts. I don't know if they have enough soldiers to launch another diversion.”

“We cannot be sure if they are not going to prepare another attack.” Marcus looked at the map.

“Can they spare another thirty thousand soldiers each?” Anton asked. “Especially now that you're aware of what they're up to and are ready for them.”

Marcus hummed as he poured over the map. He stared for some time.

“No. The main attack might have fifty or so thousand Clansmen, probably more since they were planning this sneak attack, but a good portion of them are able to get away. They haven't suffered a set back like this for some time.” A thin smile came to his lips. “They won't be trying anything for several winters. Could be a long time of peace and prosperity in the north.”

“So, we can get ready to go home?” Hemiskr asked, holding his ground underneath the stares.

“Soon.” Marcus replied. “We may need you to remain for a few days while everything calms down. But there shouldn't be any fighting.”

“That's good to know.” Verona mumbled quietly.

“Since the Governor is still absent, we should deal with the Orc and Clansmen prisoners.”

“We should mount their heads on spikes all along the border.” Castor spoke with enthusiasm. “That will send them a message.”

“Lord Marcus.” Alfred began, Castor raising a questioning brow. “May I have a quick word?”

Alfred moved next to Marcus and whispered in his ear. Marcus heard it in silence, his previous frown deepening, but finally nodding as the conversation dragged on. A tiny smiled creeped up his face as he looked at Anton and then back to the governor's mansion. They returned to the table, both looking very happy.

“Very well. On the issue of the prisoners I agree with Alfred.”

“On what?” Castor asked.

“All of the prisoners that we have taken will be released to the enemy. No exceptions.”

“What?!” Both Castor and Rosanna yelled at once. Both seemed surprised that they, of two very different social ranks, had the same thought.

“They've killed so many.” Rosanna said exasperated. “They must be punished.”

“I must agree.” Castor said, with the other Knights in agreement. “Their lives are forfeit. Not that their deaths nor blood can bring back those that have died.”

Everyone became silent. Marcus looked like he might be starting to back down from his decision. A decision that could help Anton, and Atros, immensely in the long run for some short term painful heart ache.

“I have spoken to the leader of this campaign.” Anton began. “The Clansmen leader does not seem enthused by the direction the Deweth Clans are heading. If put into a position of power I believe that he will want to make the Clans less violent and willing to work with the other Kingdoms and Empires.”

It wasn't the exact truth. Ivano was not going to spill everything about his world views. If they were killed everything could become that much harder for Anton in the future.

“I find that hard to believe. Especially since we hold his life in our hands.” Castor spoke gruffly as he folded his arms. His previous embarrassment had not worn off yet. However, Marcus seemed to hold the same attitude.

“How many have you spoken to before?” Anton asked.

“They really don't spend a lot of their time talking to me.” Marcus said. “Most of the time they are trying kill us.”

“So...not many?” Verona piqued in, Marcus shaking his head.

“It seems that you are locked in a vicious cycle of killing one another.” Anton raised his hands to stop any serious backlash. “Perhaps, not unwarranted. Though I'm guessing that you don't go into their lands to retaliate?”

“No.” Castor replied. “We cannot wield our horses there. The snow is too thick and the cold hurts our soldiers more than theirs. They have special breeds that can survive the snow. Ones that we don't have.”

“Now...Imagine that you may have a chance to change that. To one where you do not need to fight, where the people of Qaiviel of Deweth do not need to kill each other.”

“Sounds like a dream.” Marcus said.

“It very may well be.” Anton replied with a shrug. “Instead of just killing them you could release them. See how this view could grow and change the Deweth Clans from within. It may end your near endless war. Who's to say it won't?”

“But what about the others?” Marcus asked, Castor and Rosanna agreed. “Do they share this same...sentiment of change?”

Anton shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But now they can live and think about what happened. Maybe the sentiment will spread.”

“Or they could just think we are weak.” Castor grumbled.

“But they know how many went out here to conquer and pillage. And how far they actually got.”

“And how many died.” Verona added.

“There is no way they could think this was a glorious battle.” Marcus said. Anton was surprised that he agreed. “A few thousand demoralised, battered men is not much of a threat. Especially when added to their normal attacks. No stories could be sung about this in any way other than a defeat. It might be something.”

“So. When can we meet these people?” Castor asked. “I'm very interested in talking to them. See what they have to say for themselves.”

“Releasing them will only take a few moments.” Alfred began. “But they still need a bit of time to heal and be ready for the journey. What we need to deal with now is our missing Governor. Who fled and left the people to their doom. To find him and have him answer for his actions.”

Castor scoffed, his face softening.

“Perhaps...Perhaps if he had fled, then-”

A Qaiviel soldier came running up to them. His face was red from exertion.

“You...” Castor began, but stopped. He was not going to risk making a bigger incident of himself, today at least.

“My Lords!” the soldier said, he held his hand over he abdomen between laboured and pained breaths. He took a few breaths as he straightened himself up. Anton noticed that everyone was looking impatiently at him.

“Forgive me. My Lords, Governor Eilis has returned.”

“That's surprising.” Conrad said quietly, otherwise silent so far. “I thought he would have taken all his money towards the capital.” Everyone looked to him. “From what I've heard from the servants that survived most of it's gone.”

“He had more?” Anton asked quietly, Conrad giving him a nod. “There were still gold statues everywhere. That's quite a bit of gold then.”

“Make sure that he gets here, fast.” Marcus barked at the soldier, his back straightening. He turned to Castor. “Go with them. I don't want anything happening before he gets here. I want him to explain himself.”

Castor brought the two Knights with him, as well as getting several other Knights resting in the marshaling area.

Marcus shook his head. “I wonder if that little barrel of lard is coming here of his own volition.”

“Not impressed by him?” Anton asked.

Marcus grunted. A smile formed on his face. “Not in the slightest. Perhaps I'll finally be able to administer the King's Justice. I've been looking for some evidence, let's see if there's enough this time. Perhaps everything will work well...”

Marcus watched Castor disappear through the gate. Anton saw Alfred trying to recover the color in his skin at hearing about the King's Justice. Nobody said a word, all waiting for the Governor to arrive.

-------------

Hello.

We meet the pride of Qaiviel, their Knight Orders.

They're a bit stuck up, but having tonnes of money and prestige will do that, make them seem that they're above everyone. Marcus and Alfred have some history, which makes it easier for them to get along with. Castor is a bit of a jerk, but more comes from his upbringing rather than just being an arse. More that he has always been in the position of superiority and doesn't really get it otherwise, whereas someone like Marcus, who was once a merc, knows a bit more.

Kal's got her bow back, yay, and a better one too.

Now we've got the former Governor to deal with, the King's Justice, and Verona's thing.

That's that.

Thanks for reading! And for any Donations!

Chapter 063 - The King's Justice

Chapter 063:

Governor Eilis emerged, flanked by the white and green Qaiviel soldiers and Knights. The man was not very imposing; a short, fat waddling man, dressed in bright yellow, white and green pantaloons. A large white ruff around his oversized neck. His head was a balding light brown, his beard patchy and gray as copious beads of sweat rolled down his face. Every step seemed to be a serious effort for the man.

Beside him was a horse, a small but sturdy beast. Every few seconds Eilis looked up at the beast, and would say something to the soldiers accompanying him, only for them to shake their heads and hit with the butt of the spear to get him moving again.

Is he seriously try to ride his horse over here because he can't walk?

Behind him three large carts trundled along, a built up leather canopy covered their cargo. Anton was sure it contained whatever he decided he should flee with. Alongside those were people wearing the same style of clothes; two women, one clearly a mother and one a daughter, a young man and two boys. The Governor's family. They seemed to be eating just as well as Eilis.

Walking alongside those were many women dressed like the maids Duchess Belinda had. They did not have the same confidence the rest of his family walked with. Even at his distance he could see them fidgeting with their hands and fingers. Like they wanted to bolt at the earliest opportunity.

It was quite a sight to see them herded into the marshaling yard. The soldiers and Knights, who before had kept their small groups, seemed to break apart and joke with one another about their appearance.

Well, at least they're having a good laugh.

Castor dismounted his horse and ushered Eilis towards them. The carts and his servants were kept near the mansion and surrounded by the soldiers and Knights, preventing them from leaving. They would share the fate of the Governor. Castor had to walk at a snails pace to ensure Eilis did not fall behind. To Anton it looked like the Governor was about to bolt, though he wondered how far he could actually get.

“Commander Marcus. Eilis, Governor of Nonbu'rn.” Castor spoke, all emotion drained from his voice. He continued walking until he resumed his previous position. Eilis was standing all alone, and looked terrified. Perhaps rightly so.

“My...My thanks for you to come all this way, Commander Marcus.” Eilis bowed low, one hand sweeping far away as he brought the other to his chest. He held his bow, a twitch of fear on his hands when nothing was said. "It has been a terrible time here."

“Governor Eilis.” Marcus began. “Raise your head. You have some explaining to do.”

Anton saw the ripple of fear flow over Eilis's back. Slowly he rose up, bringing out a piece of cloth to dab his face. It was not that hot this day.

“Yes, my lord.” A smile drew on his face. Anton could not tell if it was honest or not.

“You have done very well out of the battle.” Marcus began, cynicism and snide dripping from his voice. “I belive congratulations are in order. Not a scratch on you, despite the Orcs and Clansmen taking your mansion for their own. Your proficiency as a warrior is trully remarkable.”

The sweat began to pour as Marcus's face darkened.

“How did you accomplish that?”

“My...My lord.” Eilis stammered out. “I took actions before the assault to preserve the strength and wealth of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Everything I have done is for that goal. Everything.”

What? That wasn't even an attempt at answering the question. Is your plan to evade the question by bamboozling him?

“Wealth...Is that the best you've got? Besides, you did not answer my question. How did you survive the Clansmen and Orcs taking your mansion? I don't see any weapons or armour on you.”

“I...I...” Eilis stammered out.

Marcus sighed and looked at the carts. He whispered something to Castor. He and his Knights walked towards them, Eilis looking a little scared.

“Perhaps I can continue.” Marcus asked, focusing Eilis's attention back on him. “It seems that you entered the city, rather than emerged. My Knights say that you were seen on the horizon returning to Nonbu'rn. After you realized the battle had been won. That questions would be asked about your disappearance. Like you had ran...and left these people to their fate. While you saved some...what? Gold? Saving some metal rather than thousands of people. Gold cannot defend us from the Clansmen, Orcs, Goblins, Centaurs or whatever threatens the kingdom. I'm rather ashamed of your actions.”

“The gold that I saved from the invaders could be used to rebuild-”

“Not stopping them in the first place? It seemed you failed in your duty there.”

Eilis grumbled something. “That's wasn't my-”

“Damn right you should have done your duty.” Rosanna spat out, not caring that it was probably not her place to speak yet. “We had no idea that the Orcs and Clansmen were going to attack. They just turned up this morning. We had no time to prepare, and they just slaughtered their way through.”

She was practically fuming. All looked at her in silence, even the Knights, as her rage continued to boil over.

“And you left two days before they arrived. With everything you managed to take with you!” she pointed to the carts. Castor had reached them, and quickly backhanding away some servants and followers, and began to tear through the carts. He ignored the growing protests and summoned even more Knights and soldiers to begin looking through them all. Eilis began to look even more worried.

“You've only come back because, if you don't, the Knight orders and the Royals will hunt you down! I bet you were going to use the destruction and chaos of the city to set yourself up somewhere west of The Bite, where nobody would know who you are!”

“Madam Rosanna.” Marcus spoke with a soft voice. “I believe you have made your point.”

“Forgive me. I just...” Rosanna bowed her head. Some of the color drained from her face. Could she have been punished severely for speaking out like that?

“However.” Marcus turned to Eilis. “Her words and emotions speak true.” His mailed fist ground harshly on his sword. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I needed to protect my family.” Eilis said. “They are the most important thing to me.”

“I can appreciate that.” Marcus replied. “I have a family as well. But it does not excuse your actions. Of cowardice.”

Eilis looked genuinely sorry. How much of that was an act, Anton did not know.

“What is this?!” Castor shouted. He was looking towards the servants in utter shock. Some tried to talk him down, others by force, but he was having none of it. He pushed them away and continued his search.

“By the Holy Father!” he exclaimed. Castor stepped back from the cart, holding something golden in his hands. He was struggling with the weight. It was a statue. “There are tens of these...”

Marcus gave Castor a nod, a soundless order given, and they began to tear the cart's canvas roofing apart. The servants, and his family, began to protest, but were forced away by the soldiers while the Knights broke through. Eilis tried to run towards them but Marcus's mailed hand gripped harshly on his head. He whimpered as the Knight Commander wrenched him back to the table, Eilis letting out a groan as he crashed into the wood.

“Don't move.” Marcus commanded. He looked to Conrad and Hemiskr, nodding towards Eilis. They both drew their weapons and moved either side of the struggling short man. Marcus released his grip while both took their position to block Eilis's movements.

“Forgive me Alfred. But I needed to borrow your soldiers for a moment.”

Alfred nodded and watched the Knights work. Every second that passed was making them more angry.

“How much stuff do you think he's got in there?” Verona asked quietly. “I'm guessing it's a bit. Those Knights don't look happy.”

Kal moved closer to both of them. “The carts were not bouncing around as they came in. Either they are built very well or there's a lot of weight holding them down.”

“There's a good chance that they've got more gold than we do.” Anton said very quietly. "And that's a bit..."

The Knights heaved out a large crate. One stumbled under the weight, his hand slipped out, and the chest smashed onto the ground. Hundreds of gold and silver coins clanged and ran across the ground. Everyone was silent. Castor shook his head as they continued to haul out more crates. Each Knight struggled with the chest just like the first.

“If I had known there was all this gold I wouldn't have complained about the bow.” he said loudly, taking a quick glance at Kal. He knelt down and picked up a coin between his mailed fingers. “There's got to be thousands of coins here.”

Marcus grumbled as he turned to Eilis. Marcus grabbed the top of his head, the man wincing in pain as both pudgy hands clawed desperately against metal. He turned his head and pointed it outwards. To the wooden buildings of the city beyond the inner wall.

“I don't know how long it took for you to collect that much gold, but there are a few ways. None of them good.” Marcus growled as he gripped even more tightly. “If you had actually spent that money, rather than keeping it for yourself, Nonbu'rn could be ten times as grand compared to what it is currently. The wealth you have hoarded would help the common folk immeasurably; every man and woman could have a decent set of armour and weapons, industry would be booming and even more soldiers would be here...the Orcs and Clansmen invasion would not have been anywhere near the threat.”

“If the common folk were to have those weapons they would turn on us.” Eilis strained. “Those without noble blood-”

Marcus shook his head and released his grip. “If you were a good leader, then you would have nothing to fear. They would lay down their lives for you.” he looked at Rosanna, and any of the nearby Qaiviel soldiers. They looked at the piles of money in disbelief. “But none will do that for you now.”

Castor returned to the table. “Seems like there's several thousand gold coins here.” he was lost for words. “I didn't know that there was so much in the Kingdom.”

Marcus scoffed. “It would have taken many winters. Slowly taking a few handfuls of gold at a time. Probably over generations...The gold that we use first come through Nonbu'rn. As do many things destined for the Border Forts.”

Eilis began to pale and sweat even more profusely.

“It wouldn't be too hard to take some gold along the way.”

“My...My lord-"

“Choose your next words carefully. Very. Carefully.”

“Perhaps...Perhaps...A gift to the most proud and honourable order of the Blue Firestorm could aswade some of these grievances?”

Eilis wore a wicked smile as he wrung his hands together. Anton had never seen such blatant attempt at a bribe. Marcus remained stoic as he studied the man. It quickly dawned on Eilis that it was not going to work. The opposite in fact.

“I cannot be bought for such a paltry sum.” Marcus roughly gestured to the carts filled with gold.

“There's more in this one too.” One of the searching Knights yelled back.

Marcus sighed and shook his head.

“I've seen more than enough. In the name of the King, Lambert Qaiviel the Third, I hereby deliver the Kings Justice upon you and your family.”

Eilis did not comprehend the words for some time. His face remained still. As the words finally worked it's way through his head all the colour drained and his whole body began to shake.

“My Lord, surely there can be something that I can do to stop this?” he pleaded, falling to his knees. Strangely he did not have any problem moving quickly now.

“You've had your chance. If you had been serious about changing your ways you wouldn't have waited until you were caught. And your prostration, now, is only because you and your family face death.”

Oh my. So, it's one of those sort of devastating things. Even the children?

Anton stole a glance at Alfred. His face was turning equally pale. Hearing the words had brought vivid images of what could have happened to Belinda, and likely himself.

“Please...” Eilis began to cry. “I will do anything!”

Marcus sighed, and waved over Castor and his knights.

“There is nothing more to say. Castor?”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Prepare seven nooses. Hang them from the outer wall with a placard around their neck. Let everyone know their crimes.” Marcus spoke calmly and softly, Eilis's eyes were wide open in stunned fear. He looked over at his family. They had not heard what Marcus had said and played with each other like children should.

“Even the children?” Anton asked.

Eilis looked at him with a glimmer of hope while Marcus remained flat and unmoving.

“Grand Mage Anon.” Marcus began, any previous hint of warmth had disappeared and now there was nothing but ice in his voice. “You have already taken a bow as payment for my subordinates rudeness. But this is a different matter entirely. If you wish to keep your head, and whatever hopes you have of finding your memories, you will not object to our dispensing of justice.”

Anton was stunned by his words. Verona and Kal looked equally shocked, though they clearly hid it better. Then again, Marcus was likely just as stunned when he threatened Castor's life over his insults.

“I was merely questioning whether or not those were for the children.”

Marcus nodded.

“Why?” Verona asked. “They've done nothing wrong.”

“They have not.” Marcus replied, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “But the punishment must be severe enough so that it doesn't happen again.”

“It's clearly not working.” Verona continued, Kal nodding in response to her words. “The children should not have to suffer for the crimes of their parents.”

Anton felt a tinge of fear as Kal readied herself to verbally spar with Marcus. Instead of retorting, Marcus stroked his beard, his eyes looking away in deep thought. It was some time before he spoke.

“Perhaps it will not be the full punishment this time.” Marcus turned to Eilis. “Do you have any relatives in the east of Qaiviel?”

“Y-Yes. I have a sister and brother there.” Eilis looked as if he could not believe what was happening around him. “Please...I don't want to see my children hanging from the walls.”

Marcus nodded. “Give Castor their names and their locations. Some of your hoarded gold will be given to them for travel expenses. They will be departing through a different gate so they don't see you. Your elder children will serve in the Western Forts as Knight Errants. Your wife will serve as a maid in a small and remote noble household. You however...”

Relief, that his children would live, overcame the short man, his legs nearly buckling. “I...I understand.” Eilis looked up at Marcus with tear filled eyes. “Can...Can I at least talk to them first?”

Marcus shook his head. “No.”

Eilis went silent, Castor ordering two of the Knights to escort him to the gate. He did not resist.

“Thanks.” Anton said quietly to Verona and Kal. “You might have just saved some young lives. They probably were going to string them up like a piece of meat.”

“Were you going to let them go through with that?” Verona asked.

“I...I...I don't know.” he replied. “I may have argued a bit more, but I honestly don't know what I would have done.”

Verona slumped a little, Kal looked a little saddened as well.

“But, you two did change his mind. Maybe that might stir something as well, like with the Duchess. A bit more mercy in the future.”

Kal chuckled once while Verona smiled weakly. They glanced at one another and focused their attention at the map. There wasn't anything he could think of to make the situation any better.

Killing children for their parents crimes is pretty stupid...unless those children decide to seek revenge for their deaths. Knowing that someone killed someone so close to you would eat away at your heart. But, if I had been pressed...I think that I would have backed down so we wouldn't have any future problems with Qaiviel stemming from this. Does this make me bad?

Eilis tried his best to reach his wife, but Castor relayed the order before he could. As the Knights surrounded her, her face swivelled wildly around as they grabbed both of her arms.

“How! How dare you touch a lady!” she screamed out, as a Knight either side lifting her off the ground. “Let go of me. Do you know who I am? Eilis, what are they doing?”

He kept his head hung low. He could not bring himself to tell her what was happening. Their children began to panic, the Qaiviel soldiers moved and restrained them from rushing towards them. The look of desperation on their faces, and the stoic nature of the Knights, clued her into what was happening. A Knight following with a long piece of rope finished any wandering thoughts. Their children, the elders at least, understood.

“Let go.” she cried out again, trying her best to wrestle herself free from the grip of the Knights. “I command you to let go!”

One of the Knights weakened their grip enough for her to rip her arm free, along with part of her shirt. She punched the Knight holding her other arm in his exposed face. The Knight crushed down on her arm, she cried out in pain, as both Knights reached for their swords. They gave a look back at Marcus and calmed themselves down. She reached and punched the Knight again. He responded by punching her with his mailed fist as hard as he could. Blood and teeth sprayed out as she howled in pain, her body slumping to the ground. Eilis could not bear to look and kept his head hanging low. The whole thing was difficult to watch.

Eilis told their children to be strong while his wife kicked and screamed into the distance. By the end the Knights were dragging her away. Soon the insults changed from the Knights to Eilis, carrying long until they faded out into the distance.

The children looked on terrified. Castor went over to the children and began talking quietly to them. They were clearly terrified but Castor's words began to calm them. He seemed very good with children, but not with peasants or common folk.

Marcus turned back to the table. Most were not looking as enthused as before.

“With that unpleasantness out of the way, we should move on. In the light of Governor Eilis's incompetence and corruption, and the changes stated by Alfred, I, Lord Marcus of the Blue Firestorm Chapter, award control of Nonbu'rn, and it's associated territories, to Duchess Belinda.”

Wow. It worked. Alfred's and Marcus's history goes very far indeed. They seemed like they might have been in the same mercenary company back in the day...

“My Lord.” Rosanna spoke softly. “Would Duchess Belinda be any better? I have heard some stories on how recklessly and badly she governs her territory.”

Alfred chuckled awkwardly. “She has changed considerably. She will choose a good Governor for Nonbu'rn, and the surroundings. What happened here will not happen again.”

“I certainly hope so.” Rosanna said softly.

“On my life I will make sure it is so.” Alfred said. There was more than one implication in his voice.

“That is very good to hear.” Marcus said. “I will write up the writ, and send another to the King. They'll want to know what happened here.”

“What about the gold?” Verona asked. “Are you guys just going to take it?”

Evidently she, and Kal, were still not happy about the near death of the Governor's family.

“Most of it will go to repairing and rebuilding Nonbu'rn.” Marcus began. “Some of it will go to paying the mercenaries, yourselves included. Everything will be used to better the people, not just the few.”

“Just checking.” Verona folded her arms.

The meeting then continued into the finer details of the campaign and invasion. Eventually he officially ended the meeting. Everyone began to part ways, each had their own work to continue with. Anton did not, apart from possibly more healing.

Before he could do anything Alfred raised his hand to catch his attention.

“If you could just wait a moment Anton.” Alfred said to Anton. “I just want a moment to talk to Marcus, then I wish to discuss something with you.”

“Alright.”

Anton lent on the table, watching the other leaders disperse and carry on with their duties. None headed in the direction that Eilis, and his wife, were carried off to. He did not particularly want to see it, he was sure that neither did Verona or Kal.

He caught Kal out the corner of his eye. Seeing her brought back what Verona had said earlier. Before he could think anything more deeply on the subject, Alfred had already finished with Marcus. They spoke in very hushed whispers. Anton used his ear enhancement prayer to listen in.

“Thanks, Marcus.” Alfred said. “You won't regret this.”

“I know I wont. Just make sure you follow up on your end.”

They gave each other a hug before parting and Alfred making his way to them.

Oh, seems like they both got something out of this...And got rid of the former governor in the process...

“I would like to personally thank you three for helping us.” Alfred held out his hand. “You didn't have to come here and risk your lives for us. And yet, you did. Without you three we would more than likely be dead. The entire north of Qaiviel could be on fire and gripped in a frenzy of death and destruction. But now...we have peace. For a time. Thank you.”

“Thank you Alfred. Will you be returning to Maxill soon? It will be easier if you are there when we finalise the agreement with Duchess Belinda. Hopefully she'll be happy with these turn of events.”

“I will be returning to her side soon, and I'm sure she will be delighted by how this turned out. But I will not be leaving before I find someone suitable for an interim Governor. I have a few in mind that would be good for the position, but it will take some time to sort through them. As for you three...” Alfred chuckled. “I think you would just like to go home.”

“We really do.” Verona said, a wide grin on her face. “But we need some time to rest.”

“I'll talk to someone about getting one of the Inn's here turned over to you three. You won't have to pay. Especially after what you've done for us.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

Alfred bowed his head lightly. “I'll return in a moment with a name and a soldier to guide you.”

Anton saw Verona's smile in his periphery. The same one she had in the God's Dream. Whatever she was planning, it was going to happen tonight.

------------------

Hello!

The Governor has been dealt with and now the Duchess's influence has grown. Even though the corruption is continuing it's now working in Anton's favour. He's just hanging back and letting it happen otherwise it could hamper him if he tried to interfere. I'm sure this happens in reality.

Also shows how close Belinda came to death through his mismanagement. So, now that's dealt with now it's just up to whatever Verona's up to. Can you guess?

Thanks for reading and any Donations!

Chapter 064 - Family

Chapter 064:

Anton lay on the surprisingly comfortable bed of the Wild Pony Inn. Alfred had pulled through with his promise. This was the largest and most expensive Inn in Nonbu'rn. And they had an entire level to themselves.

The room itself was well furnished for this world; a few landscape paintings, a cupboard for their clothes and some bottles of wine, water and food laid out on a table. It was very comfortable, being far better than any he had seen during his time here. He had offhandedly asked the soldier how much one of these rooms cost for the night and gasped at the price. It was amazing that anyone could afford it. Especially being so far north and near the relatively open border with the Deweth Clans.

However it was not the Clansmen what was bothering him. Before they entered this room Verona said that she needed a few moments with Kal, and refused to elaborate further. When he asked again she told him that it would be fine and he should try his best and take a nap. He could not see what Kal was thinking when Verona dragged her off into the room furthest down the hall, but she went willingly.

That left him some time to think. Think about what he was doing, regarding why he was sent here to this world.

“Is this really the best thing to stop those Demons.” he spoke aloud. “I'm sure that I could influence things more if I were to work with one of the Kingdoms or Empires...But I really don't want to get involved with their politics too deeply. Where I just become a servant of the state and embroiled in their politics, hampered by whomever I offend. Working with one could alienate all the others.”

He chuckled as he shook his head.

“I can imagine that cleaning it up would take quite some work. If Qaiviel is anything to go by. Better to start anew rather than try and fix it...Still, I'll need to work with everyone else for resources and people. I'm guessing that I'll be in a mercenary state for some time while I work my way into their politics, as an outsider. Act as a nexus that holds them together against the Demons. There might be something to that.”

He rose off the bed and moved to the table adorned with food. Most of it he barely recognised, so he picked at some delicate looking pieces of fruit as he poured himself some wine. As the fine glassware nearly touched his lips he forced himself to stop.

I don't know what those Knights are really like, or if there are any sympathisers, if they can be petty. I did kind of embarrass one of them quite a bit. I certainly went too far, but they all seem decent enough one they're off their metaphorical horses. Still, I didn't see any of this being prepared. Just to be safe...

A quick prayer, for immunity and identification to poison, and he sipped the wine again. Nothing told him anything was wrong. He took a morsel from each piece of food, just to be safe, and found nothing. They were both surprisingly good.

I haven't tried anything poisonous knowingly, so I don't know what it would do to me. Hopefully it would just neutralise it and give me some sort of warning. Like a ping or something. I might need Kal to give me something mildly poisonous to test out.

He turned and moved to the wooden slat window, the only source on natural light. A series of crystals hung from the ceiling that also provided light, the same type that Duchess Belinda had in her mansion.

Outside the people were working very hard. Bodies and debris were being hauled away and reconstruction was already beginning.

“I wonder what it's going to be like in Graterious?” Anton said aloud as he continued tow watch the people go about their duty. “Kal said that there were nobles that feuded constantly...We'll need to become friendly with one of them in order to get more people and resources.”

As he lowered his hand the few coins that they had taken from the dead Orcs jingled.

“We'll need to see about getting a good stream of that coming in as well. And it can't just be us using our magic for odd jobs from the nobles. We'll need to think of some sort of business and see about making more money that way...But, what can we make here that everybody will want? Something easy from my world?”

Anton shrugged, moving back and lying on the bed.

“I'll have to ask Kal first about Graterious. I'm sure there's going to be a whole bunch of hoops that we're going to have to jump through. Belinda was initially nice and even talked to us, because we had lots of money. How will that fare in Graterious? How will we do?”

He had no answer. He half dozed, waiting for Verona and Kal to return.

---[]---

A knock on the door awoke Anton. He realised he had dozed off, for how long he did not know. He lightly slapped his face to bring himself to full alert and got up.

“You there, Anton?” Verona asked. It was far more light and hesitant than normal.

“Yeah. The door isn't locked.”

“Right. I...Right.”

Verona opened the door. She looked a little more refreshed than when they parted. All of the grime, soot and dried blood had left her face. She still wore her normal clothes though her armour was gone.

“Just had a bath.” She said, moving next to him. “They even prepared that for us.”

“That's good. You look good.”

A flicker of movement at the door caught his attention. Kal, without her face cloth, peered around. She too looked clean and refreshed. Her loose and scruffy dark aqua hair had been combed straight, reaching below her shoulders. Nervous eyes darted all around the room and behind her.

“Come on in Kal.” Verona waved her in, speaking very lightly and softly. This was not her usual behaviour.

She did so, very nervously. The cloak covered most of her body but she seemed to be holding it very tight against her body. Cloth covered fingers held desperately at the edges.

“Did you have a bath as well?”

Kal nodded. “Yes. I wasn't expecting them to prepare that.”

“I wanted to go with her,” Verona began. “But she insisted that she went alone, even though...”

“Hmm?”

Verona shook her head. “Anyway, I think we should all take a seat for this next bit.”

Verona refused to elaborate, moving a chair close to the bed, waving for Anton to sit on the side. He did as he was bid. Verona sat next to him while Kal slowly, and very cautiously, took the chair.

When she was seated Verona clapped her hands.

“Right. So, after we'd taken our baths, we had a long talk.”

Anton nodded. They had been gone for quite a while, but he knew that he shouldn't say anything yet.

“A very long talk.” Verona continued. “About a great many things. We've finally come to an agreement on it. So long as you agree to it as well.”

“Okay...”

Verona's face reddened slightly, though she fought it down with all her might. She coughed as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Okay.” She coughed again. “So...I'm not really sure how to say it, so I'll just say it. Basically, Kal is open to the idea of being in a relationship with both of us. Together. And so am I.”

What?

Anton was stunned by what he had just heard. Verona had to tell him again before it truly sunk in. He took a quick glance at Kal. She kept her head low but the skin on her face was already a deep scarlet and only getting deeper.

“I, I don't know what to say.”

Never before had something like this occurred to him before. He had no idea what he should be saying. Thankfully Kal remained still at his words. Verona saw him floundering, so she held his hand with a warm smile and continued.

“I may not be the smartest person in this world, but I've seen the way Kal looks at you.” she continued. Kal's shoulders twitched. “It...It took me a little longer than it should have, but I know what it means when she looks at you like that. A sort of longing...Other things too. Not wanting to be apart, and touching that lingers a little too long.”

Kal groaned lightly.

“But.” Verona chuckled, trying to wave down Kal, not that she was looking up. “But I know that there is no harm in what she does. And...”

She turned to him. “I've seen the way you look and treat her as well. Not to the same level but you do care immensly for her.”

She stared into his eyes, giving his hand a light squeeze. He was sure that his voice would break or he would say something stupid so he nodded. Another smile drew on her face.

“And I like her too.” Verona continued. “She's a kind, caring person that I am extremely glad to have with us.”

This time Verona lent over and held Kal's hand. There was just a hint of a twitch, but she relented. Kal looked up as Verona raised their hands. Her eyes were slightly distant. When they landed on him they burst into focus. He was certain that she was blushing even more furiously.

“So, I've been talking to her and she says that she likes me as well.” A smug smile came to Verona's face. “Maybe not to the same level but...Says that I'm one of two people that she's met in the past twenty winters that actually care about Beast-kin...though she did say that me wanting to feeling up my tail is a part of it, and that I'm pretty as well.”

He could not argue with that.

“So...What do you think?” Verona turned to him. Kal was looking intently as well.

“How would this work?” Anton asked. He needed a bit of time to sort out a few swirling thoughts in his head.

“Oh. I've already checked and she's human underneath. Past the elbows and knees is a very soft and enticing brown body.”

“You said you weren't looking.” Kal said quietly, a tiny snarl curling up on her lips.

Verona shrugged. “I lied.”

Kal sighed and lent back into the chair.

“So, there isn't a problem with...that.” Verona said.

“Right.”

It wasn't exactly what Anton was thinking about, but it was one question answered. That very thought was tacit agreement to this proposition. The more he thought about it the less he was worried or concerned about it. Verona seemed very open to the possibility, and he had thought for a moment that Kal might have been interested. At the time he put it down to fanciful thoughts, two women desiring him and working out some sort of arrangement...

“But,” Anton spoke softly. “I meant, how would this work in sleeping? Would it be one at a time...or both?”

Verona shrugged. “I'm not going to be leaving your bed for anything, so it's going to be both.”

Kal remained neutral. She didn't seem to have any problem with that part of this arrangement. As the seconds dragged on Verona became more incensed. Letting out a great huff, she pulled both of them closer to her. Kal was pulled from her chair and landed with a squeak on the bed next to Verona.

“I don't see what the problem is.” she said, an honest look on her face. “We all like each other. There's no bad feelings between us and none of this is by force. I don't see what the problem is. This...This is to be enjoyed.”

Verona sighed and became a little more sombre.

“One of the people that travelled with us, one of the villagers we picked up from the first hamlet where we found survivors, I overheard him talking. Apparently there was a woman in his hamlet that he loved very dearly but he could not muster the courage to tell her his feelings. I found out that she was in the camp as well, and heard the same thing from her.”

She stopped and looked down.

“What happened?” Anton asked.

Verona shrugged. “The man died in the last battle. He never got to tell her how she felt. And she can never do the same.”

She took another deep breath. “So that's why we definitely shouldn't wait.” Verona smiled apologetically. “It's not that I don't trust your magic, or my own, or Kal's skills, but something could...could, happen. And those sort of feelings should not be kept hidden. We all like each other. So, why not?”

“I...Let's see how this works.” Anton said weakly. He could not believe what was happening.

Verona freed their hands and clapped her own. “Excellent. Kal's already agreed.” Verona looked up and Kal nodded, not with intensity, but like this was some far away fanciful dream that she was living through. “And I knew you would. Besides, you've kind of already agreed to this anyway.”

“How?”

Verona smiled wickedly as hand reached for his crotch and squeezed down hard. Anton winced in the pain as Kal looked on worried.

“See? You've already agreed.”

“Could have done it a little more gently.”

Verona chuckled. “Yeah. But where's the fun in that?”

He made a mental note to make sure that she was punished for that later. Thinking that brought him to the present. He had just agreed to something rather wild.

“Umm, what happens now?”

“What do you mean?”

Verona had already removed her clip and barrette. She moved quickly to the table and placed them gently down. The next moment and she was already stripping. Kal let out a squeak of surprise as she averted her eyes, not by much though.

“Well? What do you think's going to happen?” She removed her shirt, revealing her upper body to the world and threw the shirt at Anton.

“I should close the window at least.” he said as he rose from the bed. “I don't want anyone to sneak a peak.”

Verona chuckled and muttered something underneath her breath. When Anton closed the window, and made sure it wouldn't open again by accident, he turned around and saw Verona trying to get Kal to stand. The shock of this new situation was too much for her.

“Kal?” he spoke softly. She looked over at him. “I...I know that Verona said you'd agreed, but if you are-”

Kal furiously shook her head. “No. I...I agreed to this.” Her face resumed her beet red blushing. “I've had this happen in my dreams. I...want this. But, being here right now, I'm a bit nervous.”

Verona chuckled as she finally convinced Kal to remove her cloak. She wore her usual cloth wrappings, though they were not done as tightly as before. As he moved closer he could hear he saying something, over and over again. “You can do this. You can do this.” she was almost saying it as a mantra.

Anton took her hand in his, it trembled before grasping tight. She slowly stood up as her eyes locked onto his. The strange but captivating eyes that had seen tremendous horror, and lived through it all, stared back into his. A caring, yet fierce, soul lay within. One that he wanted to protect.

“I...I don't know what to do.” Kal chuckled, Verona joined in as well.

“Neither did I.” Verona moved closer. “But it'll come to you.”

He smiled as warmly as he could, Kal took a deep breath, before moving forward for a kiss. It was different to Verona; less fierce and overwhelming but no less passionate. He held her gently by the elbows, and Kal returned it, the claws lightly digging into his skin. The embrace lasted for quite some time. When she parted she was dyed red and completely dazed.

“Kal.” Verona said, looking very smug. “You can't go to bed with us like that. You're going to have to take it all off.”

Kal glanced down at her clothing and nodded. She gave Anton another quick kiss, one she seemed to be enjoy quite a lot, before taking a few steps back and began to undress. Verona took her position at his right side and kissed him deeply, as she started to throw off his clothes. When he was down to his pants she pushed him onto the bed, both of them falling down together. Verona giggled and patted his chest before standing up and moved to help Kal.

Kal's fingers shook as she desperately tried to remove the layers of cloth. Verona gently took her hands and pulled her down for a deep kiss. Kal squeaked in surprise, though her surprise didn't last for long. When they parted Kal was utterly stunned, trapped in a light daze. Verona took advantage and quickly freed her from the cloth wrappings.

Verona let out a gasp, which quickly turned into a giggle.

“I thought they were pretty big underneath there.” Verona chuckled. “Though they're not as big as mine.”

Verona moved out of the way, revealing Kal's naked form.

She was very slim, possesing a delicious toned and mocha body,, each muscle clearly defined. There were no blemishes or marks on her smooth skin. There was virtually no fat on her body, except for two areas. Her breasts were quite large, probably half of Verona's. The small dark nub at the center drew his attention. A delicious body that nearly everyone would be desperate to have in any way. He wondered what sort of woman her mother was.

Her Beast-kin hands and her digitigrade feet twitched uncontrollably. Seeing her naked showed that the soft fur extended to just past her elbow and knees. The fur stopped abruptly, giving way to her smooth brown skin. He thought that he might have been a bit repulsed at seeing something clearly not human, but he wasn't. The claws on her feet scratched and tapped nervously at the wooden floor. He found it extremely adorable the way she was so nervous but undoubtedly eager and excited as well.

She was beautiful. It was such a shame that she had to cover herself all the time.

Kal caught his eyes. “Um...What...What do you think?” she asked quietly. Both her hands fidgeted uncontrollably with each other.

He glanced at Verona, who only smiled, then back to Kal.

“You're beautiful. Utterly stunning.”

Kal blushed even more, coughing awkwardly to cover her surprise. He couldn't help but smile, both girls smiling back. Her tail was still coiled around her waist, though not by a piece of string. Seeing him look she quickly freed into the air,

“What? I didn't think it was going to be this big.” Verona squeaked out, watching the tail wave seductively infront of her. Anton was still enamoured at seeing it. Kal wrapped it around her body like a towel, an awkward smile on her face.

“It's fucking amazing!” Verona cried out. “I'm so annoyed that you got to see and touch this first.”

Verona reached out and stroked the fur on the tail. She bounced in joy as Kal looked awkwardly at Anton, doubly so as Verona rubbed her face upon it.

“I. I am so jealous that I don't have this. Though...not anymore.”

Verona brought Kal down for another kiss.

“Ahh. So pretty.” Verona mumbled, pushing Kal towards the bed and Anton. She made sure to get a hand onto Kal's pert rump.

Kal moved to the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do next. He rose up and held out his hand. Kal took a deep breath and took his hand, gently he guided her to sit down on the bed. This was not something to be done wrong, to be rushed. Kal appreciated the slowing down of the event. She smiled as her hands entwined with his. Verona tossed away her pants and sidled next to Anton. She smirked and whispered to Anton's ear.

“Thought you would be interested.”

“By the looks of things, so are you.”

Verona nodded. “As I said before, why not enjoy ourselves?”

Kal took another deep breath and lunged forward for a kiss, knocking him down. Their lips smacked together as his hand moved around her waist, her own hands gripping . It felt so good to hold her. Her skin so soft. Verona chuckled as she moved onto him as her hands started moving over their bodies.

“This...This is going to be a night to remember.”

---[]---

A ray of sunshine pierced Anton's eye, forcing him awake. His body was light and utterly relaxed. Drained.

It was the morning of the next day. The day after the Clansmen and Orc invasion. And the day after he had started a relationship with Kal alongside Verona. If someone had asked him about such a development the previous morning he would have laughed it off. Two heavy lumps either side of him told him otherwise.

Resting on his right arm was Verona. Her silver hair was completely dishevel and rested loosely over her face. She had been very...enthusiastic during the night, showing and teaching Kal quite a number of things. Things that she had no idea about, but rapidly took on and learned. One of her hands gripped tightly on his arm as she lightly snored, forcing her body onto his.

On his other other was Kal. Unlike Verona, who curled up in his arm, Kal was splayed out over the bed. Her dark aqua hair was thrown about, her brown skin shone in the morning light. One of her legs rested over his, the other was almost visible out the edge of the bed. The digitigrade toes slowly twitched with each breath. One of her Beast-kin hands lay just below his neck, the other he had no idea. Resting across both legs and onto his stomach was her tail. The fan end was in Verona's hand. She had finally relented to her demands, allowing Verona to pat it when they finally finished.

Seeing them both in this dishevelled and exhausted state brought back vivid and exciting memories of the previous night.

I never thought I would get involved in something like this.

His left hand was free holding onto Kal's waist, he brought it around and brushed a few strands out of her eyes.

It's so nice to see her calm and relaxed like this. Her sleeping face is so lovely and peaceful. Now she's no longer alone. I'll take care of both of them, not matter what.

Verona started to mewl as he body started to turn and writhe about. His movement had stirred her from her sleep. As she started to stretch out Kal started to awaken as well. She raised herself up, her Beast-kin hand's claws digging deep into his skin as she pushed against his chest. Verona turned onto her back and threw out both her hands. One missed his chin but hit Kal in the arm, enough for her sleep addled body to buckle and her head hit Anton's chest.

“Ow.” Kal grumbled, rubbing her head as she raised herself.

The covers fell off her body, exposing everything to the light. Her eyes were still closed as she stretched out her arms. With every action she mewled slightly. Just like Verona.

Both sat still as Kal, still half asleep, started rotating her shoulders. As her eyes opened she looked down. At Anton, with an arm still around her taught waist, and Verona, smiling as her body pressed onto Anton. Slowly it dawned upon Kal what had happened.

“That...That happened.” she stammered out. “We had sex?”

Anton and Verona nodded. He could feel that Verona was smiling wildly.

“I...I need to go. I'm sorry I...”

Kal started to throw off the covers but Anton squeezed onto her waist and stopped her leaving.

“Hold on...Where do you think you're going?” he said lightly.

Kal looked at him, not caring that her chest or any part of her body was exposed.

“I thought it was all some sort of dream.” she slowly brought the covers to hide her chest. “I didn't believe it was real. Any of it. That someone would want me..,as a woman.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Verona asked, smiling wildly as she gently played with her tail.

Kal stared forward as she picked at her claws. They had made a few marks on his back during the nights passion that still stung even now. Slowly a smile formed on her face.

“I did.” she said quietly.

“I'm glad you did.” Verona said, bouncing her body to the edge of the bed and hopping off. “I know I did, and I'm pretty sure Anton did too.”

Verona, completely naked, walked over to the table of food. They had not touched it during the night and now his was quite hungry. Judging by the way Verona and Kal looked at the food so where they. Verona picked up the plate and sat down infront of them. She started to pick at the food, handing pieces to both of them.

“How...” Kal trailed off, slowly chewing on a dried piece of meat.

“What's wrong?” Anton asked. Verona nodded as well.

“How...How will this work. Later?”

Verona cocked her head as she chewed on a grape.

“Everyone knows you two are in a relationship. So...How do I...”

Verona shrugged. “That's their problem, if they have a problem with us. I don't care what they think. And what they say isn't going to influence how we behave.”

She huffed and folded her arms underneath her large breasts.

“If they have a problem with a harem then they can shove it up their arse's.”

Anton frowned as he looked at Verona. “Where did you hear that word?”

“Which one?”

“Harem.”

Verona looked at Kal. Kal coughed awkwardly. “In Seocuria, a man having more than one...woman...was not that uncommon. Most of the leaders, nobles and rich merchants have one. That's what they called it.”

“Huh.” Anton picked up another piece of food. “But, you do want this to continue?”

Kal hesitated before nodding furiously.

“I do. I really do.” A few tears started to well up in her eyes. “I...I never thought I could have something like this. Someone...”

Anton kissed her on the cheek, Kal eliciting a squeak in surprise. Verona chuckled so Anton gave her one as well. She quickly turned it into a deep kiss before finally parting.

“There isn't going to be a problem with...this.” Anton said, both girls smiling and nodding. “But...”

Kal frowned as she glanced at Verona, her face just as confused.

“Would you like to move into our house?”

Kal tensed immediately.

“Not a bad idea.” Verona mumbled as she continued eating.

“We've got lots of spare rooms. One we could easily give one to you, even if you don't really use it much.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. She lunged at him, knocking the food everywhere, as she hugged him tight.

“Thank you!” she said, over and over. “I never thought something like this could ever happen. Now I've even got my own room!”

“You've got a house, you know?” Verona said, picking up the bits of food covering the covers. "What's the difference?"

“This...This is different.” Kal replied as she pulled him up. “To a Beast-kin, being invited to live in someone's home is...something very special.”

He gave her another kiss on the forehead. Seeing her squirm in delight was never going to get old.

“I...I will follow you anywhere...Anton.”

She looked at him such earnest eyes, ones he had never seen before. Verona started laughing and broke their moment.

“So, what's the plan once we get this finished?” Verona asked. “Head back to Atros, to Graterious, then to Seocuria?”

He felt Kal tense in his arms. Anton nodded.

“Yep. Kal, on the way we'll need you to tell us everything you know about both of the Empires. I know Seocuria might be a bit difficult to speak about but we need to know.”

“I understand. I don't feel so bad about talking about it now. It'll take some time though.”

“I think we've got time.” Verona said as she hopped off the bed and moved towards the small table again. This time she poured three glasses of wine. She came back and handed one to each of them. “It'll be a few days before we go if Alfred was right, so...”

She raised her glass, waving with her other hand for them to do the same.

“To our weird future.” she said.

“To the future.” All said, clinking their glasses together.

Anton could not help but wonder what their future would bring, this strange little family he was building.

-----------

Hello!

Kal's finally joined in, only took 64 chapters before this story could even start to be called a harem. I didn't want to have it just be a new person every other chapter or so. Anyway, Kal seems to be enjoying a lot. That might make things difficult later, but not caring now.

Just a few more chaps of some wrapping up and then it's onto the next arc.

Thanks for reading! And any and all donations!

Chapter 065 - Embers of Alliance

Chapter 065:

Two days in Nonbu'rn passed in relative peace. Anton didn't have that much to do, other than heal the wounded and get the prisoners ready to be sent back. Everyone that could be saved was, though some did have issue with him healing them without being a member of the Holy Church. When their wounds healed, and those at the edge of death were brought back, the complaints stopped. It wasn't that surprising. Still, after everyone had been healed from death it left him with quite a bit of free time to pursue the new relationship between the three of them. While that was extraordinarily fun, and somewhat exhausting, for all of them, there were a few things extra that he needed to do before they left Nonbu'rn.

He needed some time alone to talk with the Clansmen leader, Ivano. With Alfred controlling Nonbu'rn, for the time being, that was not hard. Verona and Kal still had a few things to talk about regarding this new relationship, ones that seemingly didn'twarrant his presence. He wasn't sure if it was just Verona wanting some alone time with Kal. Not that he minded. Everything seemed to be very strange for him in this world.

There was also the Orc, Snakha, that seemed to be the highest ranking Orc left. However Anton did not trust him enough yet. His questioning about Lazgar and the remnants of the Black Fist Clan might reveal to him that they are still alive. Then the last remnants of a seemingly strong and respected clan could be gone for good. Anton made a mental note to find and visit the Red Spines as soon as he was able.

Anton waited for the Clansmen chief in a well furnished room, spending his time nibbling on the food provided. Ivano was still a prisoner and couldn't just wander about.

Someone knocked on the door and a Qaiviel soldier peered through.

“Grand Mage Anton. We have the prisoners here to speak with you.”

“Prisoners?”

“Yes my lord. Ivano said he wouldn't meet you without her.”

“Her? Oh, right. The woman we found in the Governor's study, Brenna. Send them in.”

The soldier opened the door fully and showed a giant of a man and woman in. Their chain mail armour and furs had been removed, replaced with a tight set of peasant clothes. They seemed more comfortable in those, but looked more nervous and vulnerable.

“I'm surprised to see you again.” Ivano grumbled, rubbing his arms. Some of the wounds he had suffered had yet to completely heal, even with his magical healing. There might have been something odd with Kal's new blade.

“Well. There are a few things that I would like to talk about.” Anton said as he stood up. “We were interrupted by the Blue Fire-storm chapter before we could finish. And...”

He looked around. “There's a bit more privacy here.”

“Where are your other friends?”

“Relaxing.” Anton said, knowing that was a version of the truth.

“I see...” Ivano looked at Brenna. Both shrugged as Anton waved them to their seats.

“Thank you.” Anton said to the soldiers. “We'll be fine on our own.”

One opened his mouth to object but held it shut. They knew who he was. When the door clicked shut Anton relaxed into the chair.

“You aren't afraid of being left alone with two Clansmen?” Brenna asked.

She had been found in the former Governor's study, face down in a puddle of blood, barely alive. Anton had healed her so she would live but left several wicked scars on the side of her face. The previous day, during his healing rounds, he had offered to heal it better but she had been adamant to leave it. Something about reminding her how badly things had gone in Qaiviel. Anton wasn't go to push that any further.

“No.” Anton replied. Brenna seemed to relax. “We were talking about what you would do if you were put in charge of the Deweth Clans.”

Ivano shuffled uncomfortably. He reached for and poured themselves some wine.

“So, what would you do?” Anton asked again.

Ivano rubbed his bearded chin while he looked down at the red liquid. Brenna was not so hesitant, and sculled the entire contents. She kept quiet, she had not been there when they were originally talking. Now she was just drinking more and more wine.

“If...If something like that were to happen, I would try and change the Deweth Clans away from the path of war. One more towards peace and trade. Where we don't loose thirty thousand Clansmen and Orcs for basically nothing. It's stupid.”

Anton tried his best to study the man. He could read anything on his face.

“I think that would be the best for everyone.”

They both frowned at him.

“Who are you?” Brenna asked. “Really?”

He could just be saying what he thinks I want to hear. But dancing around the issue like this might never get anywhere. Someone needs to take the first step. And it should definitely be the guy that has the advantages.

“That...That is a little hard to explain.” Anton began. “Suffice it to say that I have been sent here by the Old Gods to fight an invasion of Demons.”

Both looked blankly at him.

Anton chuckled. “That was sort of the same reaction when I told others that. I wouldn't believe it unless I had been through it myself.”

“You worship the Old Gods?” Brenna asked. “I didn't think that Qaiviel would let you.”

“I'm not from Qaiviel. But, you know of them?”

Both nodded. “The Old Gods still reign in the Clans. The Church of the Holy Father and the Church of the Holy Mother have no sway there. Especially when they do nothing for their worshipers.”

Brenna frowned. “Wait.” she placed a bandaged hand on Ivano's knee, surprising Ivano and Anton. “You said Gods. More than one of them.”

“Yes?”

“That's impossible.” They both said in unison.

“A person cannot withstand more than one blessing of a god.” Brenna continued. “It would tear your body apart.”

Ivano raised a brow at her.

“My brother's a priest of Cairn, the God of Earth.”

“But he's also-”

“Yep."

Whatever they were talking about he didn't know, and they weren't going to divulge it. Her words filled him with another sense of creeping dread; that someone like him shouldn't exist in this world.

Nithroel called me an abomination. That must be what she meant. But, how am I alive in the first place? I doubt it's because I'm from another world.

His eyes were drawn to the crystal embedded in his hand.

This...Thing might be the only reason that I'm alive. Might be able to get an answer.

Anton raised his hand with the glyphs. Both frowned deeply.

“Stratos, Esperit...and Tethra?” Brenna said with a deep frown. “I haven't seen any worshippers of Tethra since I was a little girl.”

“Were they killed?”

“No.” she shook her head, a deep frown on her face. “Their powers stopped working. They couldn't heal or help anyone, so they just sort of fell apart.”

“That's a shame. Tethra was a deaths door when I met her.”

“You've met a god?” Ivano asked incredulously.

“Five gods, actually. One of them was not friendly.”

“How?” Brenna asked, utterly stunned and shocked. “How can you use all their powers as well?” She touched the cherry red scar running down her face. “You were the fire and lightning mage that followed us?”

“Yes. I think this has something to do with it.”

He drew their attention to his other hand. Both looked at the crystal but looked completely blank.

“What is it?”

“No idea, but I think that it's keeping me from being torn apart by these three glyphs. If what you say is true.”

“My brother would know more about the Old Gods than me.” Brenna said. “He's spent most of his life dedicated to them. He would know more.”

“More than enough reason to head to the Deweth Clans.” Anton said.

“I wouldn't recommend that.” Ivano said. “The Clansmen would kill you if they saw you coming from Qaiviel. Even if you were heading there peacefully.”

That put a dampen on Anton's spirit.

“Can anyone get into there without being killed?”

“Only if you were to head through Seocuria, and as part of a merchant group.” Ivano explained, a strange look of guilt on his face. “They're the only ones we're not really at war with.”

“They provide you with slaves?” Anton asked calmly.

Ivano nodded. “That and other things.”

Anton was a little glad that Kal wasn't with him.

“That's a shame. It seems that I won't be able to get there for some time then. It sounds like the Deweth Clans are the best source of information about the Old Gods. Still, Seocuria is a long way from here.”

Ivano hummed. “You're heading to Seocuria? For someone that doesn't look like a slaver? Why go there?”

“I have my reasons to head to that place. Things I have to repay and do. And I have little time.”

“Are you dying?” Brenna asked. She looked him over. “If you can heal something like this...”

“Not dying. Not yet at least. But if we don't stand together we all will. I need everything I can get to help defeat something that comes from another realm. Beings of fire and hate. Demons. I'm building a city, maybe even a kingdom or empire, to combat this threat. They've already arrived on the far side of the world and alone we cannot stand against them. No one in the Shattered Kingdoms can survive on their own.”

Both frowned.

“And I need everyone that I can get to help me. No matter where they've come from or what they've done. So long as we all are willing to work together to defeat the threat. No matter who or what....” Anton smiled bitterly, clicking his tongue. “I presume that there's going to be consequences for your...failure?”

Ivano nodded grimly. “I'll be lucky if I can keep head when they're done with me. Perhaps they'll just send me back to the lowest rung. If I'm lucky.”

“I could offer you...asylum, if you so wish.” Anton said. “It's-”

Ivano smiled warmly, shaking his head. “I cannot accept that. I would be forever banished from my home, and my family, if I were to run now. Though I'm thankful that you gave me the offer. I don't think someone like me would be very welcome. Clansmen tend to stand out.”

Anton nodded. They were massive specimens for humans. Even Brenna was much larger than most women he had seen so far.

“I think you might stand out the least.” Anton said quietly. Ivano frowned but said nothing.

Anton looked at Brenna, who simply shrugged. “I must decline as well. I am not going to run now.”

“Well, there's little more I can do for you other than this.”

Anton rose up from the chair and motioned them to held out their hands. They seemed dubious but relented. Anton chanted a prayer to heal them to their prime, except to leave Brenna's scars. Huge amounts of his mana left him as the rejuvenation flooded over the two. Their eyes became more focused, their breathing easier, and cuts and wounds healed, except the ones on Brenna's face. Those lost their pinkness and turned into just a deep scar. Even their skin regained some youth.

“That...” Ivano stammered out, before chuckling. “I feel like a young man again.”

How old are you? You don't look to be later than thirty.

“I think that you'll be needing everything you can get to survive whatever the Clans are going to throw at you for failing.” Anton said. “Besides, I would very much like to have you alive. Someone within the Clans that I can work with. Your Orc friend seems a little unstable...”

“After killing thousands of us, you think that we would work together?” Ivano seemed genuinely intrigued.

Anton bowed his head. “I cannot bring them back. That is beyond my power. But alliances can have strange beginnings. From what I've been told.”

Ivano frowned and lent back into the chair. He seemed somewhat amused, judging by the light smirk on his face.

“Although that does mean that I have to survive my punishment first.” Ivano lamented, Brenna nodding. “And it would take some time, many, many winters before I could get into anywhere influential again. All the while the Clans will be doing what they do best.”

“Well...Should you survive...I'm going to put a bit of faith in you now. If you wish to get in contact with me, make for Mount Aspire in the old Kar Kingdom.”

“And we'll find you there?”

“Of a sorts.” Anton replied. “But, if you try to bring an army there for revenge, I will burn every village and city that you have with everyone in them. Every man, woman and child of the Deweth Clans will be ash and cinders when I'm done. You heard what happened at the Gravestone?”

They both nodded in silence.

“I can do that every day. And not even your best trackers would be able to find me. I have an exceptional hunter on my side, and even if you did, there's also a Blood Berserker to deal with. One that's just as powerful as me. Doubly so if you get within fifty feet of her. You understand?”

Ivano nodded.

“I do. But I kind of want to see my children grow up. But, speaking of that, it explains something.” Ivano spoke quietly. “The silver haired woman. Did you get her as a child from the Silver Eagle clan?”

This again...

Anton shook his head. “No. I'm thinking that one of their ancestors decided to visit the Kar Kingdom and left a present with a local woman, probably without her consent.”

A brief flicker of emotion burst onto their faces, and then it was gone.

“But, yes. That is her.”

Ivano hummed. Anton was sure that he guessed the cloth wrapped woman was the hunter. He wasn't sure of the population of the Deweth Clans, but three people could move almost unseen throughout the wilds. Especially with a good guide.

“If the time ever comes that I can travel, and I've got some power and influnce in the Clans again, I will be sure to remember it.” Ivano said, bowing his head lightly.

“I'm afraid that there's not much more that we can do for you, other than to set you free.”

“Any idea when that will be?” Brenna asked.

“I believe it will be tomorrow or the next day.” Anton replied. “It depends on how well the rest of your people are.”

There was a tremendous thumping on the door. It seemed he was needed elsewhere. He just hoped that he had done enough to start building a proper relationship with these Clansmen.

“I must say that I didn't expect to survive this.” Ivano said lightly.

Anton didn't know how to respond, so he rose out of the chair and thrust out his hand for him to shake. Ivano, after a moment of confusion, copied him. The man's hands were rough and thick, incredibly powerful too.

“Good luck Ivano, Brenna. May we meet under better circumstances.”

He moved and opened the door, the Qaiviel soldiers waiting on the other side. One was a Knight. He couldn't see the face underneath the helm but he was sure he was scowling at all three of them.

“We're done. Take them back to the others, and make sure they're fed well. They're all going to need it.”

Anton gave one last look at the bemused Clansmen.

“Good luck!” he shouted back, heading away. There were many people that needed healing before the day was done.

-------------

Hello!

Another shortish chapter...

Anyway, got a tentative understand with Ivano and Brenna about needing to change the Clans. Also that they've got the location of Atros, a piece of trust that Anton has given him, one that he hopefully won't abuse, but with the threat to back it up.

Also that the Deweth Clans are the only place that still worship the Old Gods, which makes it a very important place to visit but it is hostile to just about everyone. Just another reason to establish relations in Seocuria.

That's that.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 066 - To the Future

Chapter 066:

The once besieged city of Maxill rose out from the grassland. It was already under reconstruction, fresh pieces of wood adorned the damaged wall. The forest had long finished burning, though it had destroyed countless miles of once green and lush forest. It would be some time before it recovered. For that, Anton was a little annoyed. Doubly so since Nithroel was meant to be a goddess of the Forest. He hoped that he could make up for it. Possible ramifications with Nithroel didn't even play on his mind when he used the magic.

He would have to keep his head down for some time.

“They're doing very well.” Anton said, moving his horse to the side of the marching column of villager soldiers and mercenaries. The city watch of Nonbu'rn had remained behind, leaving them with a few thousand soldiers. Many were tired and were ready for a week long sleep once they got home.

Verona brought her horse next to him, Kal riding on the same horse.

“I'm surprised they've managed to get anything done without Alfred there.” Verona added.

“I assigned a good person to manage Maxill while I was gone.” Alfred said, stopping next to them. “They've done a good job, it shouldn't have been too hard. Just repair everything that's damaged.”

“Why not do this before?” Verona asked. “Maxill looked really bad when we first arrived. I think it looks a bit better now even.”

Alfred sighed. “Please do not go there, Lady Verona.” Alfred looked genuinely pained. “But, things will not go to the way they were before. Belinda has seen what can be accomplished once effort is applied.”

Anton hummed. It was definitely a sore point for him, one that he did not need prodding.

“Will Nonbu'rn be alright with you not there?” Kal asked.

Ever since that night she was speaking more openly with others. Not as much as a normal person would, but it was improving. He didn't want to think that their new intimacy had too much do with her increasing confidence, but there was something to it. She had never expected to have someone as close as they were now, especially not a lover. Or two. Verona had given her quite a few hugs, and Kal had held his hand quite a few times, in more private moments travelling with the soldiers. She still wore the cloth wrappings. It was such a shame to cover her like that, but he was sure that she was smiling.

Alfred chuckled. “Rosanna seemed like a good choice. She has good reasons to work hard and fairly for everyone. She won't become like the previous Governor...or how Belinda was before.”

“That was a surprise choice.” Anton said.

“You didn't see her face.” Alfred smirked. “Though she lept at the chance to do some good for the Kingdom. Being under the employ of Duchess Belinda didn't even enter her mind.”

Rosanna seemed like an odd choice for Governor of Nonbu'rn. At least initially. Her outburst against the previous governor, about his hoarding of gold and lack of care for the people of his city, made her the best candidate Alfred had. What her management skills were was a different matter. He hoped that Alfred had given her someone good to help her with that, perhaps someone from his old mercenary company.

“Everyone I know is very manipulative.” Kal mumbled. Verona reached back and patted her on the leg.

“I'm sure that Conrad is quite happy.” Anton said, getting their horses moving again.

Conrad, and his company, had been paid a generous sum from the recovered gold, on top of what he was to be paid by Alfred and Duchess Belinda. Now he was very eager to continue working for them.

“He is.” Alfred looked over at the column of soldiers.

The mercenaries passing had massive smiles on their faces. Some were even counting the gold coins in their hands, their faces filled with the dreams that gold could fulfil.

“How many will leave the White Dog company?” Anton asked, eliciting a hum from Alfred. “Now they've got all this gold.”

Alfred shook his head and looked over at the happy mercenaries. “All that money will go to their heads. Some will leave, they'll gamble and whore away most of it, then they'll come back. The smart ones will spend it on weapons, armour and training. Invest it somewhere usefull.”

“I've already told them that.” Conrad said, peeling off from the column of soldiers.

For some reason he had decided to walk amongst his men instead of riding on a horse.

Maybe he was talking to the new members, to warn them of temptation.

“I've managed to talk a few of the new, and old, men from just pissing off with the gold.” He smiled. “I know that it doesn't last long when you start gambling it away.”

“How fast?” Verona asked.

Conrad chuckled. “You could do it with a single throw of some dice if you really wanted to.”

Verona hummed. To throw away such a fortune...

“Will you be staying on?” Anton asked Conrad.

“If the Duchess and Alfred are willing to have us. We didn't run into any bandits along the way, but with seventy thousand soldiers running and fighting over the countryside they're going to keep their heads down. I saw quite a few hiding when we moved through. They're going to be moving in to take whatever they can.” he shook his head. “It'll be a shame, after all this, for Belinda's territory to go to shit from some shitty bandits.”

“I think that we will continue to use your company. So long as your rate is reasonable.”

Conrad smiled and curtly nodded to Alfred.

The soldiers on the north hailed them, opening the gate. Everyone cheered as they entered, returning as heroes. The villagers, soldiers and mercenaries took it in their stride. Reconstruction work had continued inside. Many parts looked better than before the siege.

“It's good to be back.” Alfred took in the smell of the city. There didn't seem to be anything that great here.

The army spread out amongst the city streets and the civilians coming out of their homes. He was not sure if they were entirely relieved at Alfred's, and the army's, return.

“I'll get the men rested.” Hemiskr waved at the soldiers to sit. “You lot need to go and see Belinda. Tell her the good news.”

Anton moved to Hemiskr and shook his hand, much to his surprise. “Just in case I don't get the chance.”

Anton did the same to Conrad. “It was a pleasure to fight alongside the both of you.”

Both looked at each other and laughed.

“It really wasn't a battle with you there.” Conrad said. “Hope to see you some day, and not on the other side. I know that I'll be running the other way and not looking back.”

“Me too. Good luck with whatever you're doing..”

The both shook his hand again before returning to the soldiers.

“Alright. Let's not keep her waiting.”

---[]---

Alfred led them through the inner wall to Belinda's mansion. As they travelled up the gravel pathway, to the front of Belinda's stone and 'small' mansion, dozens of maids filled out. An older looking maid came out through the center, just like how Alfred emerged the times he had done before. Anton did not recognise the woman. She was older than most of the maids.

“Alfred.” she began with a bow. “The Duchess will be glad to know that you have returned. Were you successful in your mission?”

“We were.” Alfred dismounted, motioning for them to do the same. Some maids came up and took the reins from the horses and led them towards the manicured grass. They all seemed quite happy to munch on the grass, despite being led by someone completely new to them.

“Where is Belinda?” Alfred asked.

“She is in the study at the moment.” the maid ushered them in. “She has been preparing something for your return.”

“By herself?” Alfred asked, voice full of concern. The maid nodded.

Belinda always had Alfred sign and make out the pieces of papers...Does she not know how to write? Perhaps not if she's never had to do it before....

Alfred and the maid led them through the mansion, heading up the stairs in the center of first room. None of the maids tried to stop them, or say anything about them carrying their weapons or military attire. That was something Anton was glad for.

They were led through more corridors, adorned with large paintings and statues, until they arrived at another large room near the back of the mansion. This looked remarkably similar to Governor Eilis's study room; many books adorning the walls, a large window overlooking the Accursed Forest, a large table along with many large plush chairs.

In one of those chairs, next to the table, sat Duchess Belinda. She didn't wear her normal red and white Victorian dress, instead a more red plain dress. It still covered most of her body, long sleeves with her hands still covered by white gloves. She looked far more relaxed than normal.

The maid announced their arrival, Belinda instantly warming into a smile.

“Alfred!” she cried out, leaping out of her seat. She caught the surprised eyes of everyone and hurriedly restrained herself. “Alfred. It's good to see that you have returned safely. Were you successful?”

“We were.” Alfred replied. He seemed a little stunned by Belinda's outburst, but he recovered quickly. “The Orc and Clansmen army has been destroyed. Nonbu'rn, and its territories are now under your control.”

Belinda smiled, picking up a piece of paper.

“This arrived a day ago. Written by Knight Commander Marcus, officially giving me control.” A wicked smile grew on her face. “My wealth, power and prestige has increased immeasurably. I have all of you to thank.”

She bowed deeply to them, specifically Anton, Verona and Kal.

“May we please sit?” Alfred asked, not that it really seemed like a question.

Belinda smiled and waved them towards the chairs surrounding the table. The maid, and Alfred, moved forward and arranged the four other chairs equally around the table. Belinda took her seat, motioning for them all to sit. Kal hesitated, but took her seat.

“Thank you.” Belinda turned to the maid. “Can you please shut the door? We'll be fine on our own.”

“Yes, my lady.” the maid bowed and left the room. The door clicked closed.

Belinda turned her attention to some bottles of wine on the table, holdings some papers down. She reached and began to pour one for each of them, waving away Alfred when he tried to help.

“I would like to thank each of you personally for you coming to our aid. I will ensure that this is repaid many times over. I...” she shuffled uncomfortably. “I would like to propose an alliance between the two of us.”

Anton glanced either side. Verona seemed interested while Kal remained indifferent.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Belinda clapped her hands. “Wonderful. I just wanted to get that in before we start to get into the finer details of your reward. That might have distracted me from bringing that up.”

Belinda lent forward and shuffled some of the pieces of paper about. She stopped when she found one with numbers and handed them to Alfred.

“When I received the letter, stating how much territory I now controlled, I did some investigating through the records for what those territories will provide. I think these are a reasonable amount of resources to be sending to you over the seasons. But...I would like you to go over them first.”

Alfred smiled, smiled that she was asking for a second opinion. He looked over the numbers and frowned lightly. It seemed that Belinda may have promised a bit too much. He lent over and whispered into her ear, pointing at specific numbers, Belinda frowning but slowly nodded as her face softened.

It lasted nearly a minute before Alfred handed over the piece of paper.

Belinda coughed before Anton could read further.

“I'm afraid that I didn't take into account the damage caused by the invasion into my numbers. I can provide this level of support...But. It will have to be at the end of autumn when I can actually start.”

Anton looked up.

“I need time and resources to repair my territory, as well as setting up new industries and farms. That way I'll have a larger resource base to help in the future. Both of us will become stronger if I have this time to prepare.”

Anton nodded and looked back down at the paper. Verona and Kal leant over to look at the numbers.

“One hundred and fifty bondsmen every return trip, from Maxill to Atros.”

Anton looked up at Belinda. “Just for my sake, we'll make that every thirty or so days. That's how long it takes to get through the forest and back.”

Belinda nodded.

“Access to all goods and materials on offer throughout her territories. One cart load of raw goods, to be decided on each trip.” Anton hummed. “That's so we don't ask for a cart full of gold. Also specialised material and craftsmen to be decided on each trip.”

Anton looked at Verona. “What do you think?”

“Seems alright.” she said. “We've got just about everything we need in Atros, but what we really need is more people. And if we need anything special we can get it. I thought there...No. Bertram said that the planning of the city can't handle too many people arriving at once. Zac would certainly agree. So...I think it's okay.”

“What about you, Kal?”

She shrugged lightly. “Just about everything I need to live I can get from the wilds. I don't really know what you are planning to do, but more people sounds like it's the most important thing to you right now. Perhaps...Perhaps it increases to two hundred people starting from the end of winter. So long as it doesn't hurt their side of the deal.”

“I like it. I wonder if they will.”

Anton returned the piece of paper to Alfred.

“It sounds good. But, if we could make one small change.”

“Which part?”

“At the beginning of next winter, could we up the number of people to two hundred? I imagine that you'll be able to leverage your new found wealth and prestige into controlling more territory in the interim.”

It was a bit of flattery, flattery that Alfred saw through instantly, but Belinda smiled. She glanced at Alfred who returned with a nod.

“Very well. I'll make sure that's in the new agreement.”

“That's excellent. I don't see a problem with that.” He replied. “But. This whole incident has gotten me thinking over the past few days.”

“About fighting in another land?” Belinda asked.

“Sort of.” Anton replied. “We only found about the attack by chance. If you had tried to get us a message it would have taken nearly thirty days before we could help. But...If there was a way of sending messages instantly, then it would only take half the time. It would also allow us to communicate on all manner of important things. Planning for trade, technology or requests for help.”

“That has always been an issue within the Kingdom, and I'm sure that the other lands have the same problem. But we don't have a way to deal with that.” Belinda said unhappily.

Communication lines are always a problem. Especially in a place without even paved roads. It's time to get a bit more creative with my magic...

“I may have an answer to that.” Anton continued. “Do you have something to write with? Two of them?”

Alfred looked very surprised but retrieved two dip ink pens, handing them to Anton. Anton gave his silent thanks as he stood up and moved away. He could feel everyone looking at him, their eyes boring a hole through his head. This was something that had been bubbling away in the back of his mind.

He held both pens, one in each hand, and closed his eyes.

I hope that this can work. I'm going to need your help with this one Tethra.

Tethra, goddess of prayer, I beseech you to link this two pens. What one does when writing, the other copies. So that it uses the Earth Mana to function and write. And so that no distance shall stop it from working. Make the end glow when writing and not allow it to function if either is confined and unable to write.

It was a bit vauge but it seemed to work. A substantial amount of mana left him and flowed into the quills. He hoped that it would work. The only time he had tried to create, or modify, something like this was Kal's spoon, or his own eyesight modification. He hoped it would work, and it would last. He hadn't given an end time for the magic.

Here goes nothing.

“Can I please have some paper?”

Alfred stood up and handed him a blank piece of rough paper. Anton laid down both quills onto the paper.

This had better work, otherwise I'm going to look pretty silly. My magic went somewhere...Hopefully Tethra picked up a few of the gaps in my request.

He picked up one quill and began to write. Not in English, bit whatever the written language of this world used. There was no ink on the quill but it still wrote in a strange black thin writing. Slowly the other quill rose up and copied his words. Everyone remained silent as he finished and put the quill down, the other soon followed after it was finished copying his words.

A wave of relief overcame him as he lent back into his chair. Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.

“How did you do that?” Belinda asked, everyone mirroring her thoughts.

“I asked Tethra to link these two quills.” Anton began. “When one moves, so does the other. A perfect copy of what the other is writing. And it doesn't even need ink. But, only when it's writing. That way it won't spin or bounce about when you move one. I'm guessing that the magic takes care of figuring that out. Somehow.”

And it's not drawing any mana from me, or at least so little that I can't tell it's being used. Just what I asked for. Thanks, Tethra.

Alfred lent forward and spun one of the quills. The other remained completely still. He took the piece of paper and started to write, the other quill moved up and started to write onto the wooden table.

“Oh.” Anton mumbled, seeing the ink on the, presumably, very expensive wooden table.

Belinda waved it down. “Think nothing of it. I'll get another one if necessary. But this...This is amazing.”

“We'll be taking this one to Atros. This way we can talk to eachother whenever we want.” Anton said. He felt two sets of angry eyes descend upon him. He didn't mean it the way they were taking it. “For trade and defence. I'll make another so that I can communicate with Atros as well. That way when I'm away from Atros I can still send and recieve messages from you. It won't try and write if either of them are confined. So, if I'm travelling and this is in a bag you won't be able to write. That's why you'll be writing to Atros where it'll never be like that. But, that's just something I put in just in case.”

Belinda picked up the quill. “We'll have to get something made for something so valuable. A special area, a special desk. Somewhere safe from prying eyes...Thank you, Anton. This...This will be very useful. Can you make more?”

“I can. But, I don't want to make too many. They do take a bit of mana to create.”

“I understand.” Belinda clapped her hands. “Well, Alfred?”

“Yes?”

“Can you please get the maps? I think they deserve the copies.”

Alfred nodded and started rifling through many scrolls on the bookshelf.

“Maps?” Verona asked.

“From what I understand you don't have any real maps. Anton seemed quite interested with the maps of the Qaiviel Kingdom, like he hadn't seen one before. Maps, and their knowledge, is vital to any ruler. My family has acquired many maps over the generations. And I have some spare of the most recent. I think you'll want one of the Qaiviel and Kar Kingdom. We also have a map of Graterious, Bebbazar...and Seocuria, if you want them?”

“Yes.” Kal said.

Belinda smiled and nodded. “They are a little old, they were my fathers, updated when Alfred returned from Seocuria, so there's bound to be a few things that have changed. New cities, roads and plantations. Quite a few have been torn down. Especially since you've been there...”

The room went silent.

“What?” Kal said flatly. Verona's hands twitched in readiness, so too did Anton's.

Belinda sipped on the wine as she lent back into the chair. Alfred seemed unperturbed.

“You hide it well, but it's clear that you haven't had to blend in with humans for long. I'm guessing that you're a Beast-kin.”

Is...Is this meant to be some sort of intimidation? To get into a dominate position, even though that's not what either side of this relationship is about?

“Why would you say that?” Kal's voice was still flat, her body completely still.

Belinda smiled. “You hide it pretty well, but there are a few signs. Like completely covering yourself, though that can be explained. Your hood moved when you were here the first time, around your ears. And you were adamant that Beast-kin were not violent creatures, even though most people think they are. Especially those that have never met them. Alfred's told me that the opposite is true, something only someone that's been to Seocuria would know.”

“And so what if she is?” Anton asked, Verona nodding. “Does it matter?”

Belinda shrugged. “Not really. I was just curious...I've never seen one.”

She looked back at the door, seeing that it was still closed. “You can show yourself here.”

“I thought the Church of the Holy Father was meant to say Beast-kin were monsters.” Anton spoke quietly.

Belinda shrugged again. “They do. But they can't do anything this far our. They're far more annoying the closer you get to the capital. But, we're in privacy here.”

Alfred had five rolled up maps underneath his arm and placed them on the desk. No emotion graced his face as he sat.

“I would like to see.” Belinda said lightly.

Anton looked at Kal, he certainly caught her eyes. It was her decision. Kal sighed, and undid the wrap around her face. She lowered her hood as she freed the cloth. Her ears twitched as they were freed. She ruffled her dark aqua hair, stiff after being bound for the past several days.

Belinda looked a little confused, while Alfred was utterly stunned, his jaw almost dropped off.

“A half-breed?” Alfred coughed out.

“She's not a Beast-kin?” Belinda asked, receiving an odd look. “I've never see one before. So...”

Alfred shook his head. “A half-breed is when a human and a full Beast-kin have a child.” he looked very closely at Kal, who held her ground. “I never thought I would see another in my life.”

“How many have you seen?” Verona asked.

“Only one. A very long time ago. He was a Minotaur half-breed. Only a babe though.” Alfred shook his head. He could guess what he was alluding to.

Kal shook her head. “They do that.”

“How did you survive?” Belinda asked.

Kal glared, a tiny quiver of her clothed fingers. It was not something she had shared with any of them yet.

“Anyway.” Anton tried to steer the conversation away. “Kal is a Beast-kin. And someone very important to me. I will not have any harm to her, or any of us, by revealing this fact.”

Alfred raised a brow while Belinda chuckled.

“I will not speak a word of this. But, thank you for showing us.” Belinda bowed her head. “If the Church of the Holy Father found out that I even knew about a living Beast-kin even coming through Qaiviel, they would try and punish me. Take my lands and wealth. And I have no intention of that.”

Kal raised her hood and moved the chair closer to Anton. Belinda chuckled as she lent forward.

“Where will you be heading after this?” Belinda asked. “Will you be travelling deeper into Qaiviel? Or head east to Graterious?”

“What about south, to the wood elves?” Anton questioned.

Belinda did not know about their agreement with Nithroel, that they couldn't head more than fifty miles past the old capital of Surdon.

“That's...That's not a good idea.” she said. “The wood elves only have one trading site with the whole of Qaiviel, and that is heavily controlled, and on our lands. We cannot touch their forests.”

“If you were to head into their lands uninvited you would be killed without hesitation.” Alfred said.

Not that I had any intention to do it but I'm sure that Nithroel would be happy with me dead. She has a serious hatred of me now...More reason why we need to work even harder. And not piss her off.

“Thank you for the warning.” Anton said with a light bow. “But we were not going to head there any time soon. We've got quite a bit of monster infested lands to cover before we could even reach that place. Not to mention we've...Well. Anyway.”

Belinda and Alfred glanced at one another.

“There is another issue, not related to that.” Anton continued. “There are almost a thousand people from the destroyed villages and hamlets. What will happen to them now?”

Alfred shuffled and spoke first. “They will be sent to areas in the south to settle. Away from the places that cause them so much pain. Why do you ask?”

“Atros is in need of more people, especially in the short term. I don't know how well they will be able to work in Qaiviel, they'll still know that they are close to where they lost their livelihoods...I was thinking that we could take everyone that's willing to settle in Atros.”

“We can let you take up to a quarter.” Alfred said. “You can't just take everyone.”

“I understand. We'll take them when our first merchant arrives at Maxill.”

“You're sending someone through the forest?” Belinda asked. “Not you?”

“No. We'll be heading to Graterious. See what we can get from there.”

He wasn't going to reveal that they were going to head to Seocuria after Graterious, to start to free fellow Beast-kin alongside Kal's mother. Wherever she could be. Belinda smiled and nodded at Alfred.

“A half-breed could not travel through Graterious looking like that.” Alfred began. “And border guards might find it a little odd. And you don't have the eyes of a slave.”

“So?” Verona said. “Kal's travelled the wilds for most of her life. They haven't caught her yet, even though she wears that cloth.”

Kal winced slightly. There was still something that she was still meant to tell them. Was it something along those lines?

“But.” Alfred continued. “If you were to wear something a little more...expensive, you might be able to pass yourself as some sort of eccentric. One that dresses up willingly.”

Kal was genuinely offended by his words.

“And you have this something?”

Alfred nodded. He left the room, only to return a few moments later. In his hand was a mask. A white mask with a green line running along the centre. Over the eyes was a black meshlike material. Overall it looked like a masquerade ball mask. A mask without any real features.

He handed it to Kal, who regarded it with some suspicion.

“If you were to wear this, alongside your normal attire, you might...might be able to avoid greater scrutiny. So long as you get more expensive clothes. Less so than someone having a cloth covered face. None of you have been to a large city yet-”

“Nonbu'rn wasn't a large city?” Anton asked.

“No. It's a modest sized city. Especially since it's so close to the Clansmen territory. In Qaivel the further south and west you travel, the safer and larger the cities become. And someone there would ask about your face and demand to see it. No matter what you told them lay underneath. But, with that, you will have a greater chance of hiding your identity. It should work in Graterious as well.”

“Hmm....” Kal inspected the mask more closely.

Kal glanced up and saw both Alfred and Belinda smiling at her. She shrugged, retreating further into the couch.

“Thank you.” she spoke quietly.

“Do be careful if you head deeper into Qaiviel territory.” Belinda spoke to all of them. “You've been lucky that you've been on the outskirts, but the Church of the Holy Father has more sway the closer you get to the capital. Those fanatics are growing in strength daily. Any of them would like to see you dead, for being what you are. Those that practice with heretical magic, like two of you, are put to death.”

“What about me?” Verona asked. “They're going to try something because of what I am?”

Belinda shrugged. “Perhaps. But your magic will give them pause. Unless you do something to attract their attention they should leave you alone. Most don't want to die against a mage.”

Anton sighed. “That's a shame about the capital. I was hoping, one day, of seeing what the rest of your Kingdom had to offer.”

“It's rather beautiful. But, there are some sadder and darker sides to it.” Belinda smiled bitterly.

“I think it's like that everywhere.” Anton said.

Belinda chuckled, a warm and honest smile on her face. This time he felt three sets of angry eyes burning through him.

“In the meantime it's probably best you don't head close to the capital.” Belinda continued. “The Knight Orders and the Church have always been fighting. And with this attack dealt with it'll only make things worse.”

“Because the Church had nothing to do with it?”

“Exactly. All of Knight Orders can't resist a chance to dig at the Church. Political ramifications will be felt for some time. You could be attacked for supporting either side. It'll be very dangerous for a little while.”

“I thought the Church and these Knights would have been very close.” Anton said.

“They have bad history. Constantly vying for the King's ear. Though the Knights don't agree often, they will work together on this. Currently the Church has influence over the King and it's growing rapidly.”

“But their power won't be eclipsing  for two or three more winters. Then it'll become a serious problem.” Alfred said. “Unless someone can pry them away from the King.”

Great. Sounds like a civil war of sorts is looming just over the horizon. A stable Kingdom is probably best for us. We might be getting involved once again.

“I have another question, if you don't mind.” Anton searched through the maps for the Qaiviel Kingdom.

He rolled it out on the table and looked near the bottom. Sure enough there was a mountain range, the center known as the Red Spines.

“What can you tell me about this place?”

“The Red Spines?”Alfred shrugged. “It's a large mountain range at the south of Qaiviel. A chain of small mountains within the range are covered in rust. It's not actually red, but...well, rust coloured. But...” Alfred frowned. “There are large Orc settlements throughout the range. They trade in metals, gems and rare hides...”

“Are you thinking they could attack from the south?” Belinda asked. “That would be terrible for the Kingdom.”

“No. I don't think so.” Anton replied. He glanced to Kal, who smiled awkwardly. “It's just that someone important is meant to be heading there.”

“The person that gave you the information of the Orcs and Clansmen allying?” Alfred asked.

Anton shrugged. “Basically.”

“Well, I haven't been there more than once.” Alfred began. “But you can reach them after arriving at the Wood Elven trading post. Once there you can just head up into the mountain. It's the only place that the Orcs trade with us as well, they don't like humans much. You'll definitely want an Orc guide, so you don't get lost or killed.”

“The...” Kal coughed awkwardly. “The ones we met didn't seem too violent.”

Alfred shrugged. “It's always good to be cautious.”

Belinda clapped her hands together. “We'll make sure that you have enough provisions for your trip home. But, before that, I would like to show you something. How normal people use magic.”

---[]---

Verona and Kal, under the escort of some soldiers and maids, left for the Limping Rat Inn for food and supplies. While eating food, that they hunted and gathered was good, they all desired something a little more refined. Different. Not that any of what they currently ate was bad.

Now out in the open Kal's stylised mask looked quite good. It was vaguely in the shape of a human, but compared to seeing the cloth wrapped face he could see why it might attract less attention. Or be a little easier to explain. He hoped.

Belinda seemed very eager to show Anton her magic, much to the angry glares of Verona and Kal. Both girls had been given an unlimited purse to spend in the city and could take whatever they wanted. That had quietened their issues. He had given them both a quick kiss before Belinda led him towards the rear of the mansion, Alfred following closely behind.

“Where can you practice magic here?” Anton asked.

Belinda, still wearing her casual clothes, smiled and waved to the rear of the mansion. This area was beyond the small garden, and was just an open area of grass. In the center of this area was a large circle made from flat white stones.

“Here.” Belinda said. “Nobody outside my retinue can be here. Only those on the wall could see, but they are my soldiers. That makes it the perfect place to practice.”

Alfred stopped some paces away while Anton was allowed to move closer. Belinda stood in the center and pulled out a silver object from around her neck. It looked remarkably similar to the one that the leader Orc, Zig, held in his hand. This was more of a silver spiral than just a disk, a large rem gem at the center, with more little red gems following the three arms of the swirls.

“This is my charm.” Belinda looked more closely at the charm. She used her sleeve to polish the gem. “My way of using magic. I don't often get to use it. Apparently I don't have much mana within me.”

She glanced at Alfred, who remained stoic.

“So I can only use it a few times a day like I'm about to. So you can see I couldn't help much with the siege...Anyway, I'll show you how I use magic, someone that doesn't have a glyph from the old gods.”

Anton walked backwards to the edge of the stone circle next to Alfred.

Belinda wore the charm around her neck and raised one hand to the sky.

“By the light of the fire, strike down my enemies!”

A fireball, the size of her head, grew out of her hand and flew into the sky, just as fast as Anton could if he pushed with all his might. The fireball soared as it grew weaker and weaker, until it disappeared completely.

Belinda looked down satisfied. She was breathing a little harder just after one use of magic. How much mana did she have? How much mana did he have?

“That looks pretty good.” Anton said. “Would it incinerate an Orc?”

She nodded. “Yes. Quite a few. When it hits something it showers everything in flame. Once I took out twenty Green Goblins with one of those. I didn't want that to happen, so I just threw it up into the air.”

“How many more can you do?”

“Another five or so. Then I'm done for the day. I don't have the strength to use it for more complex magic...like the flame pillars you used.”

“Can I have a look at it?” Anton asked, gingerly moving forward. “I've only seen a broken one. The one that Zig used.”

Alfred pulled out the broken white charm that Zig had used and handed it to Belinda. She took hers off and gave it to Anton.

“Please be gentle. A Fire Charm is extremely expensive. And...It was my fathers. It means the world to me.”

The piece of silver felt very heavy in his hand, and strangely warm. Otherwise it didn't look magical in any way. Something so precious...

“How does it work? Do you just push your mana through it and it forms the fireball?”

“Not really.” Belinda said. “Speaking the words helps me focus my mana correctly through the charm so I can create a fireball and release it where I want. The words help me remember what I'm supposed to do. How to form the mana within me. Powerful mages don't even need to say the words, even though it does make it easier. Though it does hint at what you're going to be doing to an enemy.”

Belinda's face turned to fear as Anton twirled the silver and red charm in his hand. “Please...Please don't try to use it. I don't think that it'll be able to handle the amount of mana that you have. I think it would just explode.”

“I definitely wont do that. But I thought that the fireball would have come out of the charm.” Anton said, handing it back to Belinda. “I'm pretty sure that's what Kal said the Orc did.”

A wicked smile came over Belinda's face. “That just means they don't know how to manipulate the formed magic well. It is much easier just to form the magic through the charm and release it. But someone that has skill, like me, can make it come out of body wherever I want. I just don't have enough mana.”

She placed the charm back around her neck and held out both hands.

“A snake of wrath and flame!”

A tiny swirling line of flame burst into life around her hand, slowly flowing to one from to the other. She didn't seem to be suffering from any heat problems.

“Any decent fire mage can do this. One of the most basic fire magic’s that all fire mages learn. Very little mana is needed. I could kill a Goblin with this, I can do this all day.” A smirk formed on her face. “Although I couldn't strike Alfred from here.”

She raised her hand and threw the snake of fire. It raced through the air at Alfred, the butler remaining completely stoic. The fire fizzled out before it reached him. Anton realised that he was well within her range.

“That's pretty impressive.” Anton mumbled.

Belinda smiled, a hint of a blush on her face, followed by a grumble from Alfred.

“Can you buy those charms?”

“They can only be handed out by the royal family.”

“So if this breaks you'll have a difficult time getting a new one?” Anton asked. “Wouldn't you also need time to adjust to using a new one?”

“So long as it's the same type it's not going to be problem. I can't use a water, ice or stone charm, for example. But this...”

She looked more closely at the broken charm. “But...But I've never seen one like this before.” she said. “I've never heard of a white one. Not even during my time in the royal academies.”

She looked even more closely at the few white gems on the broken charm. She pursed her lips and shook her head. “If it's alright with you, Anton, I would like to have someone look at this from the royal academies. They will surely know. They'll be able to tell where an Orc got something like this.”

“I wonder who made this thing. I thought I'd seen this sort of magic before.”

“Where?” Alfred asked.

“A Yellow Goblin, leading the attack on Atros. He was able to use the same magic, even though he didn't have a charm. And he was covered in some sort of...magic dampening metal...Gliyrhil. That's it's name.” Anton turned to Alfred. “That's the one that I said was covered was covered in cysts and puss.”

Alfred nodded. “I remember that. That was...odd.”

“Well. We killed it, and carved it apart, but didn't find anything like that. Would the royal academy like to have the samples?”

“They should.” Alfred said. “They'll be very interested.”

“I'm very interested in finding out what that thing was as well.” Anton said.

He wasn't going to tell anyone about the sealed up door at the depths of the mountain. Remembering that gave him chills.

“Could...” Anton scratched at his beard. “Could those samples be used to secure some books on magic? I still want to know what Qaiviel teaches officially. I'm running on what little I've been able to find out.”

“I'll see what I can do.” Belinda replied. “But I can't guarantee anything. You'll have a good chance to find something in Graterious.”

“Be sure to search Graterious's larger cities for anything of value.” Alfred began. “They are far more relaxed at selling magical items and tomes compared to here.”

“Anywhere we should look?” Anton asked. “So we don't end up having to wander the country and waste valuable time.”

“Since you will be arriving from the west, the first city of some importance that you'll come across is called Porswea. It's much larger than Nonbu'rn. It'll have all that you need. Just, be careful. The larger the city, the larger the number of theives and scum that infest its depths. Make sure you don't go anywhere near the slums.” Alfred laughed as he folded his arms, his eyes brought back some distant memory. “Once. Once six of us had to fight our way through about sixty thugs. All because one of us lost his purse and had to chase the little urchin down. That's another thing. You can't have your money in a crate like you did before. You'll need to get creative in how you hide it. And spend it. The theives have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Well, that was some fun.” Belinda said, looking very proud with herself. “But we'd better go find your friends before they try to bankrupt me.”

“Actually,” Anton began. “I need to swing by Lester's shop before that. I need to get a few things.”

---[]---

Lester's shop was far more impressive than before. Despite the siege he seemed to be doing very well. Another building had been added to his shop. It seemed he was now looking to make a trading post rather than just a humble shop.

Belinda and Alfred, and their escort, waited outside. He did not want them try and interfere.

Inside was far more elaborately stocked and filled than before. And now there were nearly five people running about. Even customers, though they looked to be mercenaries.

He's doing quite well out of this.

He spied Lester at the main table, speaking to a group of traders. When he caught his eye Lester's face lit up. He seemed so happy to see him,. Thankfully, his professionalism refocused his attention to the traders. Anton took the time to wander about and look for a ring for Jeff.

I can't believe I'm actually having to say something like that. I...I never would have thought it was possible.

It took a little while for Lester to finish. As the traders left, with satisfied look on their faces, he made his way to Anton.

“Anton.” his voice was light and happy. “Thank you for saving this city and the Kingdom.”

Anton fought down a little flush of embarrassment.

“How can I help?” he asked. “Do you need more weapons or armour? We've got quite a bit now. Or something else?”

“I need a ring.” Anton replied, looking at the glass care infront of him.

Laying near the back were dozens of rings. Small silver bands. No precious stones adorning them.

“Which one interests you?”

“I'm looking for a good one. For a friend of mine. I believe they've been together for some time and they seem ready to lock down their relationship.”

“Ah...marriage.” Lester looked away, his eyes wandering. “Doesn't happen much here. It was too expensive to pay the Duchess.”

Did she take a bite out of everything?

“What...What are the marriage ceremonies where you're from?”

“I honestly don't know.” Anton's eye was drawn to a silver ring with a small blue gem on top. “But I think that I'm going to find out. I'll take that one.”

“Very good choice.” Lester waved to one of the young children running about his store. The child retrieved the rings and handed them to Lester.

“A lot more people than you had before.”

Lester nodded. “Indeed. Soon I'll be expanding into other cities. Belinda has given me...the authority to do so.”

“And in return you give her a part of your income?”

“A small part.”

Anton sighed.

Guess that not everything can change. Oh well. It works out for me in the end.

“That doesn't sound that surprising.”

“It's not that bad. I'm already making thirteen times what I was before. So, I'm not to worried.”

“Hmm. How much do I owe you.”

Lester smiled, handing the rings to Anton. “Nothing. Since the beginning you've been a great customer. And you've helped turned my life, and many here, even if you didn't mean to. So, consider this a bit of what I owe you.”

“Well...Thank you Lester. By the way, what was the name of that blue powder that I bought from you?”

“Dragon's Breath.” A questioning brow rose. “Is...Is it working for you?”

“It is. But I'll need a lot more. Preferably from the source. Any idea where in Graterious it's made?”

Lester didn't.

“Oh well. I'll find out when I'm there. Thanks Lester.”

Lester shook his hand before being called away by a loud mouthed trader. He gave a wince, in apology, and ran off.

Anton looked at the rings in his hand. “I hope they like this. I wonder what a wedding ceremony is like here.”

I'll get Verona and Kal something when we get to Graterious and Porswea. If it's a big city there's probably going to be a jeweller there. One that could make something very impressive for them. Hm...

As he stepped outside Alfred and Belinda greeted him.

“You get what you wanted?” she asked.

“I did. I didn't know that you were helping Lester's expansion.”

Belinda shrugged. “I told you that he's going to be making me a lot of money.”

That was all that was said on the matter, though he caught a sly smile on the corner of her mouth.

They found Verona and Kal outside the Limping Rat Inn, laughing and cheering while she ate a large plate of steaming food. Kal stared at the plate, her body language looked rather annoyed that she can't reveal her face. Around them were several soldiers and maids. They kept everyone else away. To the side were both their horses; new saddles and packs filled to bursting with food and supplies.

“Hey Anton!” Verona yelled out the moment they were sighted. “They've got some really good food here.”

Isobell, the owner of the Inn, stood to one side. Both her sons stood near the door with crude and heavy weapons in their hands. They did not trust the new management style just yet.

“It certainly looks like it.” he smiled as he saw the shine of the greasy food around her lips.

“We'll take some of this with us...for later.” Verona glanced at Kal.

“You've got everything?”

“You're little woman here decided that she was going to eat everything I had.” Isobell smiled. “Thankfully it's being paid for.”

“These three have more than earned any food that we can offer.” Belinda said. Isobell tensed as Belinda spoke, but held her ground.

“Thanks Isobell.” Verona gave a nod to Isobell. “Fantastic food. But, it's time for us to go back home. I want to be able to sleep in our own bed again.”

“Where are the maps?” Anton asked.

Verona nodded, pointing to a pack on the back of his horse.

“Got 'em in there. Made sure that they weren't scrunched up.”

“Thanks. So, are we ready to go?”

Verona and Kal nodded, giving a final thanks to Isobell, before moving to his side.

“Got a few bits of some very useful information. We've got a name of the next city we're heading to. From there we can plan our next move.”

“We're getting closer...” Kal said quietly. Anton patted her head gently.

“Thank you again, Duchess Belinda, Alfred, for continuing to work with us.”

Belinda frowned and shook her head.

“We should, and still are, thanking you. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Anton gave another light bow and mounted his horse.

“Farewell Belinda, Alfred. Send my regards to Hemiskr and Conrad. I hope that everything goes well for you.”

They gave a final bow and started towards the eastern gate.

---[]---

Once they were back into the relative safety of the forest they could relax, about what they said and how they behaved. Kal took the opportunity to remove her mask and feel the air on her face again.

She looked down at the white and green mask, a strange look on her face.

“It's not bad. Less scratchy than wearing the cloth.”

“It freaked me out a little.” Verona turned her head back to Kal. “I'm just so used to seeing you with the cloth.”

“Belinda's right.” Anton reached over and rubbed her head, eliciting a mewl. “It might make it a bit easier to travel through Graterious.”

“If I wear this...Make the straps a little stronger, so someone can't just take it off easily, then I might even be able to make it to Seocuria.”

“You're not abandoning us?” Verona asked, a tinge of worry in her voice. “Not after...well. No you wouldn't. Especially not after you've found us?”

Verona squeezed down on Kal's upper thigh. Kal's face reddened instantly. She turned away as her ears began to twitch happily.

“Of...Of course not.” she held out her hand, which Anton took. It was shaking slightly as he gripped it tightly. She seemed to relax. “If Tethra had told me what I would find here, I would have run away. It's...all too much for me to believe it's real.”

Verona reached back with a hand and squeezed down on her leg again. Kal squeaked in surprise as she held the back of Verona's hand.

“Well, it is. I hope you are enjoying it.”

Kal nodded furiously.

“When we make camp, we can have a bit of fun.” Verona chuckled. “Are we going to travel as fast as we can or are we going to take a bit longer?”

There was no mistaking what she was alluding to. Not that her wild smile could hide what thoughts were swirling about in her head.

“Let's see how the days take us.” Anton said, an unmistakable smirk on his face. He gave a final squeeze on Kal's hand before squeezing onto Verona's leg. She squeaked before playfully slapping his hand away.

“I...” Kal spoke, getting their attention. “I don't know how I could explain any of this to my mother.” She sighed. “That I've fallen in love with a human.” she glanced towards him. “And now I'm involved in a strange...strange relationship with with the both of you. I don't know what she would say.”

“Your mum's not too good with humans?”

Kal shook her head. “She did not willingly let my father lie with her.”

“I'm sure that your mother...can be brought around.” Anton said. “We'll able to convince her that this is your decision...Besides, I'm rather enjoying it too.”

Kal chuckled, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“By the Gods...So what's our next move?”

“Simple.” Verona whipped the reins to get her horse moving faster. “We head back to Atros, maybe taking an afternoon at the lake where I can finally have a swim, have a few days rest there. Head to Graterious, find a way through to Seocuria safely.”

Verona turned back to Kal with a wild smile on her face.

“Then rescue your mother. Easy.”

Kal laughed. “You make it sound all so simple.”

“It is.” he lent over and kissed her deeply, her face scarlet when they parted. “Now that we're all here together. Come on. We've got quite a bit of ground to cover before we break for camp.”

Verona laughed wildly, Kal smiling back.

I'll take care of this family. My new, weird and wonderful family.

---[]---

Ivano stared over the frozen lake infront of him. A lake at the top of the hills just inside the Deweth Clansmen's territory. The ice cold wind howled around them. Slowly the cold travelled through his metal armour, but the thick furs insulated him. Falling snow had already reached up to his knees and was continuing to fall, every step was slowly becoming more difficult. But he didn't mind.

He was alive.

Never would have thought those Knights would actually listen to what that Grand Mage had to say. Thought they would just shoot us with arrows for sport before we made it to the snow...What really happened there?

What were those three? The Grand Mage mentioned something about Demons, but is that the real reason why he wants to work with us? Healing us all? I'm-

“What's wrong?” came a voice near him.

A clansmen was speaking, but not to him. He was speaking to another that had curled up in the snow. The man had given up, and chosen to freeze in the snow, rather than go back home in shame.

He looked back, towards the green lands of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Along the snowy hills were dozens of brown lumps; Clansmen that had given up the will to move forward. Nearly a hundred of them littered the snow.

Ivano walked towards the collapsed Clansmen, slapping him hard in the face with his metal fist.

“Ow!” he groaned.

“Get up.” Ivano ripped the man to his feet. “And keep moving.”

“Yes...Chief.” the man grumbled, beginning to trudge again through the snow.

I don't think I have to right to be called a Chief any more.

The other man nodded in thanks before following right behind.

“Quite a few of them are doing that.” a familiar voice spoke from some distance away, getting closer. “Doesn't seem like they've got much hope.”

Ivano turned and saw Snakha, his maybe Orc friend, moving through the snow like it was not even there. He had been given a thick coat by the Qaiviel Knights, something nobody expected, and had been walking with them. He and the Orc survivors. There were only a few hundred left. Zig had been right in one respect, they had suffered the most of this invasion.

“I do what I can.” Ivano said. “This is the truth of a horrific retreat; people just giving up hope and lying down in the snow to die. Not able to bear with the shame of defeat.”

“Can you blame them?” Brenna asked.

She followed close to Snakha, though she kept her eye on him. The scar on her face made her look like a seasoned warrior. After meeting the Grand Mage, the slim blonde man that decimated their armies, she had been rather quiet. He hoped she was just trying to figure things out in his head.

Snakha moved next to them and overlooked the lake. He knew this place. This lake very rarely thawed, but at the height of summer it melted and turned into quite a large fishing spot. It was strange how close they could get to the enemy and neither side paid any attention to each other. Perhaps that was what that Grand Mage, Anton, was guiding him towards when he woke up. Perhaps not. But there was something there.

“Perhaps I can.” Ivano replied. “For being too weak to survive the shame defeat. They'd rather just curl up into a ball and die rather than fight on.”

Snakha chuckled as he swung his axe lazily infront of him. The axe he had killed someone for. There were quite a few contradictions in his actions. Ones that Ivano couldn't figure out.

“Why did you try and find my body? I never did ask.”

Snakha shrugged. “Didn't really feel right what Zig did to you. Everyone had already decided to live, but then that prick...heh...decided to go down fighting and kill everyone he could. I'm sorry what Zig did to you, Brenna. Shouldn't have let that prick do what he did.”

Brenna shrugged, a mailled hand touching the scar underneath her eye, and towards her neck.

“I didn't see it coming. That's my fault. A Clansmen should be taken out so easily. What happened to Zig? Nobody told me, other than that he's dead. We're more than far away enough now.”

Ivano shrugged.

“He got what he deserved in the end. One of those Qaiviel soldiers said that he got stabbed in the eye and most of his face bitten off. Didn't say who. Or how. They thought that would make me angry. It's just a shame that I didn't get to see it, or thank who did it. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the Grand Mage or the Blood Berserker...”

“Did you know he was a Thrall?” Ivano turned to Snakha.

“Yeah. To an Orc it's really obvious.”

“I don't know why your kind followed him.”

“That's a good question.”

Snakha sighed and began walking with the rest of the survivors. The column, of a little more than a thousand, was slowly making its way towards the closest Clansmen city. They would reach it well before nightfall, even with the snow, but Ivano was dreading the response.

“What are they going to do when they find out that we've had to retreat?” Ivano said aloud.

“You think you're going to run into your army?” Snakha replied.

“They'll be so happy to see us like this.” Brenna mumbled. “Running away...Again.”

Ivano did not miss the change in her language. Had he changed her mind? Only time would tell.

“Yeah.” Ivano chuckled. “And what they're going to do to me.”

Snakha scoffed. “What about me? I'm the highest ranked Orc left. What do you think Zig's father's going to do to me once he finds out his son is dead?”

“Nothing good.” Brenna smirked. There was no love lost between herself and Zig. If she had awoken she would have fought half the Qaiviel forces to get to Zig to kill him herself.

“Do...Do you want sanctuary with my clan?” Ivano asked.

Snakha smiled bitterly. “I don't think that's going to be worth much. Especially since you won't be a chief, of any kind, once they find out how badly this whole thing went.”

Ivano grumbled. If he was lucky he might get away with his head still on his shoulders. Maybe. At the very least he probably wouldn't ever get to see his wife and children again.

Brenna looked equally dejected. “I think that this'll be the last raid I go on...I guess that means I'm going to be married off to some grunt Clansmen warlord.”

Brenna shuddered.

"Some big, dumb, disgusting and hairy thruster." Brenna shuddered again. "He'll thrust three times and then be done, letting out a grunt like he's just slain a dragon, and then just flop his sweaty body ontop of me. For fuck's sake..."

Snakha chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe you do have it worse. The men here are just going to have our heads cut off."

"I suppose." Brenna replied.

They seemed to be getting on better than what he thought they would, especially after their first meeting.

“Maybe...Maybe we should try to change the Clans. Away from this raiding. Towards something more peaceful.”

“Did you just get hit in the head by some heavy snow?” Snakha asked, trying to hide a chuckle. “I thought you told that blonde mage twat that story so he wouldn't kill you. That's what it sounded like when you told me.”

“I did. But...Maybe there's something to it. I...I don't know. You didn't seem very happy when you heard that the Knights were going to kill all the Orcs running outside Nonbu'rn.”

Snakha grumbled, his shoulders drooping in dejection.

“Perhaps...” he shook his head.

His arm moved forward and stopped Ivano.

“Listen. If you're both still alive at the end of summer, come find me. If I'm still alive I'll be in Ozizgrad. Find me there. If you wish to speak further.”

Snakha smiled and patted him roughly on the back. He shook Brenna's hand and patted each other on the back. He said nothing more and walked ahead, leaving Ivano and Brenna standing alone in the snow. Ivano looked up at the cloudy sky, the flakes of snow falling upon his face.

I wonder what he's planning. What anyone's doing. Only one way to be sure. And that's to survive.

--------------

Hello!

The Arc is done! I've got one more but it comes under more of an intermediate chap.

Anyway, got the agreement with the Duchess, as well as a way to communicate between the two. Something that will be sorely needed.

Shown how normal people use magic, so that's cool.

Also got the wedding rings for Jeff so we can see how that happens, and what the future hold.

Ivano's still kicking and heading back home, although in disgrace and worried for his future. Throughout the next Arc I'll be splicing his journey throughout. Also what's happening in Qaiviel thanks to his involvement. A few more different character positions. Hope that goes well.

Right, Thanks for reading!

And for any Donations!

Chapter 067 - The New Heroes Pt.1

Chapter 067:

Janet landed with a thud, her side tingling in pain. Everything was muddled, both her sight and her mind refused to work. Her eyes were barely working even though she had gotten new contacts just a few days prior. It was strange that she could remember that but not anything else.

“What?” she weakly spoke aloud. “What happened?”

Her voice did not sound like her own. More light and less scratchy.

What's the last thing I remember?

There were all those nasty men on board the bus...They were trying to rob us. And then...we died? Is that it? Then there was...A woman. I don't know...

It sounded stupid but she was definitely alive even though she distinctly remembered being killed. Metal had punctured every part of her body and flesh. And yet she was still alive; breathing and feeling pain. Nothing was making sense. Was this heaven? It certainly didn't feel like it.

She rose herself up and sat on her backside. That felt different too; none of the usual aches or pains, no sense of relief once the pressure had been relieved from her joints. She rubbed her eyes with her hands. They too felt different, more youthful and soft, yet definitely her own.

Slowly her vision returned. Her hands were nothing like she remembered. Gone were the blotches and spots. These hands were immaculate. Not a single thing wrong with them. She touched them together to test the sensation.

They were hers.

“What's happening?” she asked again.

Her vision was returning. All around her were slowly moving masses. They looked like people, some were starting to groan.

She decided that the best thing to do, until her vision returned, was to sit still. Better not wander off when she could barely see. She tried her best to get a handle on her surroundings but it was very difficult. Something soft and smooth rubbed over her skin.

“What am I wearing?”

A thin silk dress covered her body. A body that was not hers. She did not have such a youthful or shapely young body. As she explored this new body she let out gasps of surprise. Everything was like new, even though it certainly wasn't her own body. She never looked like this in her youth.

“Hello! Is anyone there?” came a female voice.

Janet looked at the source. A few meters away was a slowly squirming body, very pale in skin with long blonde hair. From what little she could see the woman was wearing the same silk dress.

“I'm here. I'm here.” Janet replied. It was difficult to associate her new voice with her own mind. Something she would just have to get used to.

She moved on all fours, her legs were not strong enough to support her weight, and crawled to the woman.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

The woman’s head shook from side to side, not taking it off the solid and cold white floor.

“I...I can barely see. Where am I?” she sounded completely terrified.

Janet laid her hand onto the woman's shoulder. It was incredibly soft and warm, twitching in fear underneath her touch. Her long and shapely legs pushed hopelessly on the floor.

“I don't know. What's your name Dear?”

The woman sniffled and rose herself up. She had a very pretty, and sharply featured, face. Pale green eyes stared desperately into her own. Janet decided to take the initiative.

“Well, Dear, my name is Janet. What's yours?”

The woman's face frowned deeply.

“Janet?” she looked at her in complete disbelief. “I remember you. From the...crash. But aren't...Aren't you eighty?”

Janet felt her eye twitch in annoyance. “Well, that's a blunt way of putting it, but yes Dear, I am that old.”

The woman shook her head, taking Janet's hand. “No. I mean, you look like you're barely twenty. Maybe even younger.”

“What do you mean?” Janet asked, bringing her hands up and touching her face.

Her fingers traced over her features. If anything she felt features like the young woman infront of her. Something was tickling her ears. Using her free hand she brushed away her hair, the same bright blonde, over her ear. When she touched her ear she nearly had another heart attack.

It wasn't the same. Not that that was shocking in itself any more. It was definitely an ear, but it was far too long to be a humans. She traced it to a faint point at the top.

It's like...what was that movie?...It's like an elf's.

More memories came flooding back. There had been a black void, where all of them had gathered. A woman in a flowing green dress had spoken to them, the words were very vague, and had dragged them down into a dark abyss. And now they were here.

What was her name?

“Dustine.”

“What's that Dear?”

“Dustine. My name's Dustine...I think.”

“Is your head fuzzy?”

Dustine nodded weakly.

“I think it'll pass in time.” she looked around and saw many more bodies starting to move. She coughed and spoke loudly “Hello?”

“Hello?” a voice called back, a man's voice. “Am I alive?”

“Your voice is fucking annoying...Why the fuck did I get dragged to hell along with you tossers?”

Janet recognised the voice. Dustine clung tightly to her hand out of fear. Even with their muddled minds there was no way they would forget why they were here.

“Well? Where the fuck are we? Is this some sort of hospital? Hey!”

Jacobs, the leader of the gang of robbers that caused the accident, was with them. And annoyingly, alive. He was some distance away and seemed to be the same sort of creatures they were now. While he was certainly different, there was enough similarities to tell it was the same man.

“What's happening boss?”

“Shut yer' trap. Just shut up. Where's that prick? Where is he?”

She saw Jacobs stand upright, only to wobble and fall back down. That was heartening to see. She had to fight down an inappropriate chuckle. Jacobs rolled around as he tried to calibrate himself to his new body.

“Hang on.” she mumbled, Dustine not letting go.

Something else wasn't making sense. There weren't this many people on their bus.

We got hit by another bus. That must be where half them came from. But I remember that some of the people, at least on our bus, weren't...this white. So these are completely new bodies. Elf bodies?

A rush of fear washed over her.

By God, what is happening here?

More groans emanated from the sprawling mass of probably human elves. It gave Janet time to study the room. The floor they rested on was a completely white marble forming a large twenty meter wide circle, barely a perceptible gap between each slab. It seemed that she was in the middle of this circle. Beyond this lay a large step made from a yellow stone, perhaps a rich sandstone, and beyond that large columns of white stone, touching up to a white ceiling that radiated a light without any perceptible source. The entire circle of columns was enclosed by more white marble stone.

It's like...It's like I'm in one of those ancient temples. That spoke to those Greek or Roman gods. Is that where we are? Have we travelled back in time...With these new bodies?

Lord, why have you done this?

Before she could cry out against her fate something rumbled behind here. She turned, along with everyone else that could see, and saw dozens of pale, blonde haired and pointed eared people approaching them. These did not look like them though; they shined with metal and carried spears. Seeing that sent further chills down her spine.

Warriors. Soldiers.

She tried to stand and flee but her legs were not working yet. She twisted and fell onto the cold stone. Judging by some thumps around her, others had the same idea as well. She raised her hands her hands to shield herself.

“Please do not be afraid.” A soft, but authoritative voice cried out from the door.

A different dressed blonde elf moved forward, the armed soldiers parting slightly, and another followed closely behind. One clearly a woman and one a man.

The elf woman wore the same green dress as the blonde woman as in the black realm. That dress would have been appropriate if she was serving at a club of ill repute. Only the most important pieces were covered. Most of her legs, arms and stomach were exposed. She wasn't fat in any sense. They weren't fat but they lacked any muscle tone. Though, she clearly had some...plastic surgery. Janet had worked in a hospital before retiring and had never seen someone with a figure that was so naturally top heavy. It was just visible that most of her back was exposed. Odd. Janet wondered why she didn't just wear a bikini, and skip the pretension.

None of the male elves near her paid much mind, at least in a sexual sense.

The man wore something more conservative. A pair of green shorts and an open shirt, showing off a slim but well muscled chest. Perhaps he could have worked in a similar club? On each of his hand he wore a golden bracelet. No one else did. Was he a leader?

“Please do not be afraid.” The woman said, raising both hands in an attempt to calm them. Many scurried away as best they could.

She slowly and delicately moved forward, her bare feet barely making a sound. She crouched and gently rested her hand on the closest human elf, still groaning as they held their head, waiting for their body to adjust. The human elf's head twisted to her, lathered in fear. She recognised the face...barely. It was the bus driver, the one who's heart attack had caused them to careen through a crossing and collide with another bus. That seemed to explain why there were so many of them here.

However, she remembered that the man was rather portly. Not the slender and lightly muscled man that lay in fear infront of her.

The elf woman smiled and laid her other hand on his. There was always with a warm smile on her beautiful face as she looked around. He was still terrified but slowly his face softened. Everyone's did. Everyone was too stunned to do anything else. No one had even started to cry yet. Janet was sure that was going to happen soon. The only reason she wasn't was that she was so stunned by her surroundings.

“My name is Aeirlaya Luyarus.” A few tears came to her eyes. Tears that made Janet mentally frown.

Please. I've been alive longer and seen more things than most of the people here. Do you think I don't know when a woman is putting on the water works? But to what end?

The others nearby didn't seem to see through it. They relaxed as they heard her sob in happiness. Dustine's hand gripped hers hard. She looked down and saw that she was gripping hers very tightly as well.

“Something's not right.” Janet whispered. “Keep your eyes and ears open, and don't believe anything they say.”

Dustine nodded, rising up to sit next to Janet.

“What the hell?” a new voice cried out.

It was not one she had heard before. Everyone looked over to him. He sat next to Jacobs, probably one of the robbers, and frantically looked at his arms.

“What happened to my skin?” he asked Aeirlaya angrily. “I wasn't this colour before. I was black, you bitch, not this! What did you do to me?”

Oh dear.

Aeirlaya smiled, a mixture of fake and honest, and moved more closely. As her body shook it took some of the wind out of their anger. It almost made Janet want to roll her eyes. Men could be so easily distracted.

She knelt closely infront of him and took his hand gently.

“I'm sorry for your pain. Truly I am. But we have been praying to the Goddess every day and night for your arrival. To help save us from the evil that is destroying our world.” More tears flooded out. “We need your help.”

“How come we're not in our bodies?” Jacobs asked, oddly calm in the situation, though not being subtle about his stare. “I like my new teeth though...”

Aeirlaya smiled but did not understand. Janet remembered his foul breath as she desperately searched for something of value to give to them. And when...

Where's that young man that was next to me? Anton, that was his name. Where...

Janet tried her best to surreptitiously look around to find the man she was sitting beside when this whole thing started. Even though they were now elves, there was enough similarities to tell it was the same person so long as one looked hard enough. She looked at everyone who's face she could see. None looked like that man.

“I...I am glad that this has worked out in your favour.” Aeirlaya awkwardly smiled at Jacobs, who was still leering at her exposed chest. “But, you are all so weak now. Your bodies have only just been born. And you are still adjusting to them. The journey for your souls has been a difficult one.”

She rose up and waved at the soldiers. “We will take you somewhere more comfortable. This cold stone is not good for your new bodies.”

The elf soldiers, in a glittering suit of armour, came forward and gently brought them to their feet. Their faces were completely covered by their helmets and their scaled armour clinked lightly with every movement. As two soldiers came to Janet she got an even closer look. Each scale, that looked like it belonged on a fish, had tiny white links that held them together. They were barely as thick as a hair. Yet they looked incredibly strong. What level of craftsmanship went into them?

Two sets of strong hands, covered in a thick and soft leather, lifted them all up. A few objected but their objections were ignored. Especially when they fell down when they tried to stand on their own.

Slowly and gingerly they were led away from the strange room. The moment they were outside everything changed.

They were no longer on Earth.

Giant trees, taller than the highest building on Earth, soared above them. They were so thick that only a little light made it through the hundreds of branches. Hanging from the lower branches where large crystal that emitted a bright white light.

The ground underneath her feet changed from the perfectly white stone to a far more rough brown stone. At the edges were tiny edges of moss growing up. Despite the rustic look of the pathway it was clearly maintained, by something. There was no way that moss would stop only a centimetre up the stone and stop. Did that mean anything?

They continued to walk forward at a reasonable pace, the elven warriors with them started to carry them when some slowed down. They had no say in what was happening.

Small round houses started to emerge around them, again nothing like on Earth. These were built into and around the base of the tree, almost as if they had been grown out of the tree and formed the home. Dozens more dotted the trunk of a tree. Smaller light emitting crystal hung from the center of each doorway, yet there was no door. A small blonde head, barely a meter off the ground, peered through the gap. A child? A hand grabbed the child by the head and pulled it away.

Are we freaks to them?

More elves peered out but disappeared just as quickly. Some even carried a bow and had an animal slung over their soldier. They regarded the group with distrust and disdain before hurrying away. Each made sure not to get anywhere near their procession.

I guess Aeirlaya is definetly someone important. But who's the other man?

She glanced at the elven soldiers carrying her. She dared not ask them yet.

Ahead of them, nestled between four large trees, a large wooden structure emerged. They were led inside without a word. At the center a small fire burned, surrounded by many cushions and furs. All along the walls were skulls of beasts, that Janet could never believe existed, alongside sets of weapons. Hundreds of them. It gave Janet a tinge of fear.

“Please.” Aeirlaya said softly, waving her hands to the cushions surrounding the fire. “The fire will warm you. We will bring you food and water while I explain what is happening. You must all be very confused and scared.”

Janet nodded. It was the truth. She was surprised that no one had tried to run yet. It must have been they were too weak, and now they were surrounded by hundreds of these elven soldiers. They had no idea where they were. Who knew how big this forest actually was.

Let's...Let's see how this goes before I do anything.

She looked down at her hands, scrunching them tight. Strength and control was returning.

I'll wait a bit longer at least...

The soldiers guided them to their cushions, gently lowering them with the care one expected with handling the elderly. At least that was good. Dustine was placed next to her, much to the relief of both of then.

Aeirlaya, and the elven male, took their position. She still didn't know what the position of the male was.

More blonde haired elven women emerged from seemingly nowhere, carrying large plates of fruits and silver glasses of water. Everyone had one set placed infront of them. The servers didn't wear the same slim dress as Aeirlaya but were still not wearing much.

“Thank you.” Janet said.

There was no reason to be rude, nothing good came out of it. Especially if they needed to run. A flicker of emotion, disgust, burst onto her face before being replaced by a courteous smile.

This doesn't seem good. I get the feeling they don't like us...in their bodies? Did, are these someone else's? No...

There was no way to be sure. Janet pushed down her mental wandering and focused on Aeirlaya and her male companion.

“I would like to apologise for having to bring you here.” she began, bowing deeply, followed by the elves present.

“You'd better have some fuckin' answers.” Jacobs said. “Like why we're some goofy looking elves, and not humans.”

Another twitch came over her face but she held it very well.

“Very well. I shall start from the beginning.”

“Good.”

“You're the reason we're here!” someone cried out.

Janet did not recognise the woman but she looked very angry.

“Did you think we'd forget that you tried to rob us? And that's why we died? I have a child that's going to be all alone thanks to you!”

Jacob's face turned into a snarl. A strange look on his now handsome face. “If you wanna' fight, I'll rip your head off.”

It did nothing but inflame those around her. Nearly half had no reaction, those she presumed where from the other bus.

Quickly their words flared into a full blown argument. Aeirlaya tried desperately to calm them but it was no use. As both rose to fight, the guards moved forward and restrained them. Neither were strong enough to resist.

“Please! Do not fight.” Aeirlaya pleaded. “You must save your strength.”

“Why?” Jacobs asked, a leathered hand pushing hard on his head. “Why are we here? You...”

“What is your name?”

“Jacobs.” he spat out. Aeirlaya gave the warriors a nod, and they released both of them.

“Well, Jacobs, we have not brought you here just to ruin your lives. You are all here for a very special reason.”

Jacobs scoffed, folding both his arms and ripping into the food. Everyone's attention drew on Aeirlaya. She coughed and smiled warmly.

“If we didn't need you we wouldn't have disturbed your slumber, but our world and our lives are in peril. Demons, beings of fire and hatred, have attacked our world. We, the Wood Elves, are the only race that stands between them and oblivion for everyone on this world.”

“Demons?” Janet found herself speaking aloud. “Like hooves and horns? Red skin and holding a spear?”

Aeirlaya, and the elves, frowned in confusion. The human elves around her nodded.

“You...You must have a different...idea of what a demon is.”

She waved her hand towards the fire. The flames instantly snuffed out replaced by a shimmering green light. Out of the light a face emerged. Six red eyes on a charred dog-like face. An orange liquid poured out of its eyes and down it's face. Slowly it opened its mouth, hundreds of black razor like teeth, revealing a glowing mouth. Like it had swallowed fire. Out of the mouth a forked tongue emerged and licked at the liquid weeping from its eyes.

“What the fuck is that?”

“That. That is a demon.” Aeirlaya said. “Creatures that are pouring into our world.”

“That's terrible.” Janet said aloud. “But...”

A creeping feeling worked up her back. Other human elves seemed to guess what was about to be said.

The male elf spoke next. “We have fought these creatures to a stand still, but we are being ground down while they seem to have limitless numbers coming through a portal. We cannot reach it to close it...”

And this is going to involve us. Somehow.

“We have prayed, day and night, to the Goddess, Nithroel, for help.” Aeirlaya said with tears, a mixture of fake and real. “And she has sent you to us. To save this world.”

“Fuck off!” Jacobs said. “I'm guessing that you want us to fight those scary looking lava things? With all those teeth?”

Aeirlaya nodded.

“You can take that, and shove it up your arse. I ain't going to die for you. Just send us back.”

“We cannot do that.” Aeirlaya said calmly.

Murmurs grew from the human elves.

“Why not?”

“Because you have died already. Nithroel spoke to me and told me what happened. Your bodies crushed and torn apart by metal. Your souls otherwise sent to oblivion, saved from that fate by our Goddess. There is no body waiting for you on the other side. You would be instantly killed by the laws of nature.”

“What?”

Aeirlaya sighed. “You are here for the rest of your lives.”

The room went completely silent as everyone contemplated their new existence.

“Please, eat and drink something.” Aeirlaya said, motioning infront of each of them. “You must recover your strength.”

Janet found herself reaching for the food and drink. Even if everything sounded completely unbelievable she shouldn't waste away from spite. The food and water was very good, mainly a mixture of fruits, but helped to fill her stomach.

The male elf stood up as they finished their meals.

“I am Prince Folwin Luyarus.” the male elf bowed. “I have been instructed by my father, the King, to ensure that you are ready to fight these invaders.”

“You think we're actually going to help you?” Jacobs asked, bits of food flying of his mouth. The new body had not changed his etiquette. A few elves looked at him in utter disgust before a glare from Aeirlaya forced them back to a smile.

“Yes.” Folwin replied, his face still in a perfect smile. “You will.”

“We'll see.” Jacobs grumbled.

Janet could not help but agree. They had not agreed to this and now they were being told to fight, and probably die, against those vile looking creatures. Of course they would be upset. Though she found herself feeling a little ill agreeing with Jacobs.

Folwin smiled. “I understand that you are in an incredibly difficult and upsetting position, but if you help us we will make sure that the rest of your days are filled with luxury.”

“What sort of luxury?” Jacobs asked. Many others, even those not from his gang, nodded. As soon as a reward was lowered...

Jacobs looked at the serving women behind them. They kept their smile, but were desperately trying to stop themselves shivering out of revulsion. Jacobs turned to Aeirlaya and smiled even more wildly, devouring her with his eyes.

“As long as something good can be worked out.”

Really?

There was some murmur amongst the human elves, but most were still simply too stunned to react. Either that or were just going along with the flow.

Aeirlaya smiled, though Janet was sure she understood what they meant. Fowlin coughed.

“Very good. Tomorrow we will begin your training. Aeirlaya, our high priestess, has told me that you are incredibly weak right now. The journey has been strenuous on your body and your strength has already been drained enough.”

He waved to the guards standing at the edges of the room. They moved forward and gently helped them up.

“We have prepared bedding and food for each of you. I advise that you get as much sleep as you can. Training will begin tomorrow.”

He bowed low, his head almost touching the floor. Janet didn't know if it was genuine or another manipulation, but at first glance there didn't seem to be anything lying underneath. He genuinely felt bad for their situation.

The elven soldiers picked them up and gently carried them out. Janet dared a final glance at Aeirlaya and Folwin. There was nothing on their faces, like all of them were nothing to them. It did not bode well in Janet's mind.

Since she was strong enough to walk on her own she lightly shrugged off the elven guards and walked unaided. They did not begrudged her this right. Dustine walked infront of her, she too had decided to walk on her own feet. Many of the others were still too mentally exhausted to care. Now they were being brought back to the lone stone temple they arrived at. The other half of the wood elven village, the half that was obscured to them, was even more grand. The trees were filled with huts, nestled and built along giant branches. From each of the homes she could see lights. And movement.

By God, there must be thousands of them...Maybe even more. I don't think we can run away just yet.

They led them along the stone pathway and off along a well worn dirt path through the grass. Janet became acutely aware of the sensation of dirt clinging to her feet. Even that felt...heightened.

Nobody spoke a word until they saw their destination. The building was on the ground level again, considerably larger than the previous though much less ornate. Many windows adorned the structure though little light escaped from within. It was impossible to know what was happening inside. Several elven guards stood either side and opened a huge wooden door.

The inside was very spacious. Just like all of these people's buildings. A cluster of green crystals, hanging from the ceiling, illuminated a very spacious wooden floor. Along both sides were numerous doors, each with another green crystal hanging above.

Another elf emerged, stopping the procession. He was different than the other elven soldiers. Compared to the seemingly ageless elves holding them up this one seemed to be old. At least fifty or sixty years, if he was a human. His armour was a completely encompassing gold, far more intricate that anything she had seen before, and only left his head exposed.

“This will be where you will live for the time being.” the elderly elf spoke, a soft voice that bristled with authority. She was inclined to listen to him just through the power in his voice. “As Prince Fowlin said, you should spend all your time resting and recovering for tomorrow.”

The elf rested his hand on the hilt of a golden sword on his hip. “Tomorrow I will begin your training in earnest. One that will test the limits of your mind and body. I will reforge you into soldiers and mages worthy of the Vunyth Dynasty. Worthy of his Eternal Majesty.”

He spoke with such reverence at the end. An unsettling amount. The soldiers carrying them directed them to one of the doors along both walls. Inside was a well furnished but Spartan room; a comfortable bed, a desk and a chair. That was it.

The soldiers pushed her gently in, though it was with some finality. There was no backing out now. Not there was really a chance before.

Janet found her legs and hands trembling. She took the bed to steady herself, very comfortable underneath her body. She laid down on the bed and covered her face with her hands. There was not the strength within her to cry.

“What the hell is happening here?”

“Janet?”

The voice was Dustine's, coming through the wall. She wiggled herself closer. There was a tiny hole caused by a natural knot in the wood. It was barely a centimetre wide but more than enough for them to talk through.

“I'm here sweetie.” Janet replied, trying her best to sound calm. “How are you?”

“Um...Terrified.” Dustine faked a nervous laugh. “They don't seem to care what we have to say or want. What...What's going to happen to us?”

“I don't know. But, we'll get through this together.”

She heard some cries and whimpers coming from the other side. Her motherly side wanted to reach through and comfort the poor girl, but she could not.

“We'll get through this. All of us-”

“Even Jacob's and the rest of his idiots?” Dustine asked. “Those elves separated us pretty quickly.”

“I certainly hope not. They're the reason that we're here.”

Silence greeted her for some time.

“My...My mon. My dad...They don't know that I'm here. Everyone else's families...”

“We'll find a way to send a message.” Janet said. She knew it might not be possible, but she wanted to say anything to raise her spirits. “If they brought us here than we can send something back. Maybe that we can't get back but we're alive.”

A sniffle returned. “I would like that.”

Janet couldn't help the smile on her face.

“There's not a lot we can do now.” Jane said quietly. “We should try and get as much rest as we can. See what the new day will bring.”

“I'm scared.”

“Me too.”

Dustine shuffled and turned over. Janet sighed and looked up at the wooden ceiling.

The room felt like a prison. Perhaps it was. Except there was no out and no way home. Thinking that did give her another thought.

Nobody here seems to be that you man that I sat next to, Anton. Where is he? Surely they would know? I'll ask...someone, as soon as I get the chance. If he's not on Earth, then where is he? I wonder what he's doing?

God, what is happening to us?

---------------

Hello!

A different chap, from the other guys! Don't really know how it's going to go over, but I felt like i needed to bring it up eventually....Only on Chap 67 though.

A brief look at the Wood Elves style, their local leaders, and how they treat the new heroes by moving them through things so quickly they don't have time to think too deeply about it.

Had to go back and find their names, it's been a while ">

I would like to know if you would want a few more chapters about these guys or straight back to Atros. Either way, it'll be a bit before I can write some more chapters. I'm suffering a little bit of burn-out and need a bit to relax. Shouldn't be that long...Hopefully.

Anyway, Thanks for reading!

Maps and Images

Hello Everyone.

Unfortunately this isn't a chapter, just letting you guys know that I'm still going despite the time since the last chapter.

Got a few almost ready. Don't know when it'll be done though. It might be the beginning of next week but I can't be sure. I just don't want to have that month long gap where I didn't say anything...

Anyway, once I've got the next chapter ready I'm going to use this one to keep everything like maps and images and stuff, so that it's in one place and so that people don't have to scrounge through chapters to try and find links.

Thanks everyone!

Map of the Shattered Kingdoms

Chapter 068. Vol 3 - Rings and Sand

Chapter 068:

Anton had never been so happy to see the city of Atros looming in the distance. The walls were even wider and taller than when he had left, and he could see the beginnings of the third expansion ring. A thin trail of smoke raised out from the center. Thankfully it clearly came from homes and the forge, and not from the smouldering fire of another Kobold attack.

The trip through the forest had been relatively uneventful, except for the very active night time sessions, quite a few of them just between the two girls. Most had been initiated by Verona, not that Kal seemed to mind. Never in his life would he have expected what was currently happening to actually transpire.

Kal had never seemed as happy as she was now. Quite often he caught her smiling as she looked off into the distance, as she looked around his back. Most of the time they had spent travelling she had sat with Anton, much to Verona's consternation. She had swapped often which calmed her a little. Often he heard Verona giggling as Kal hugged her tightly. Seeing that again, and catching Verona's slightly worried eyes, brought up a small potential problem.

What the others would say about this.

“You're thinking away again.” Verona said quietly as they passed through the last remains of the forest.

All along the edge there was obvious signs of logging, quite a bit. He glanced up and saw several carts in the distance returning to Atros filled with freshly cut timber. They were spotted, one small speck of a worker giving them a wave, which Verona and Anton returned. Kal peered around Verona's head and saw the villagers. She was about to wave but she hesitated. During their trip she had not worn her new face mask or quite a few of her cloth wrappings. Her arms, digitigrade feet and tail were left free, through she kept her cloak. Verona found out about the brush for Kal, becoming quite irritated until she could brush her fur. Now Kal's fur looked quite sleek.

“Sorry.” Anton said, both girls frowning at him. “It happens.”

He ran his hand through his beard. Until a few days ago it had been allowed to grow uncontrollably. Verona, and Kal, said that it made kissing him rather annoying, beyond the tickling sensation that Verona liked when they first become a couple. Verona wanted to use one of her blood crystal shards to cut it short against his skin, to like when they first met, but Anton and Kal had talked her out of it. In the end they settled on using Kal's new blade and taking some delicate care. It seemed that Kal's hands were the steadiest, though feeling of her fur and pads on his skin was a little strange. Almost instantly afterwards Kal said that they were going to keep it short. They both liked the way it tickled against their faces.

“Is this about those demons?” Verona asked.

Anton shook his head.

“Right. I think I know what it's about.” Verona glanced back at Kal, patting her hand wrapped around her waist.

“Right...” Kal said quietly.

“They can just deal with it.” Anton said defiantly. Both looked much happier at his words. “I'm not going to give up either of you. Not after all this. If they have a problem they can just leave. Nothing we're doing affects anyone else.”

“Exactly.” Verona nodded furiously.

“I wonder what they're going to say when they see this...” Kal looked at her fur covered hands. They were slightly different to a humans, despite the fur. Her fingers were a little longer than a humans, not to mention the sharp claw at the end and the pads on the inside.

Kal took another deep breath, bringing both her hands into fists. “I'm not backing down anymore! No more hiding in my new home. Or...alongside my new...um, strange family.”

“That's the spirit.” Verona chuckled.

“And definitely no pulling on your tail.” Anton added.

Kal brought out her tail from the confines of her cloak and wrapped it around Verona, the three fanned end resting just below her chin. Verona started giggling like a demented fool as the played with the fur, nearly letting go of the reins of the horse. That tail was a thing of beauty. He played with it every chance he got, and Kal never denied him.

“You need to get that under control.” Anton hummed, reaching over and rubbing Verona's head vigorously.

Verona blushed but refused to let go. Kal withdrew her tail and jumped to Anton's horse. The horse grunted at the sudden burst of extra weight while Kal wrapped her hands around his chest. Verona huffed as Kal hugged Anton tightly, burying her head into Anton's back as the claws lazily massaged at his chest through the leather armour.

They continued in relative silence. Anton was a little thankful that the wood-cutters continued on with their work. That gave them a little more peace before they were bombarded with questions. He was sure that most reactions would be of relief, that they succeeded and the former bondsmen's relations are still alive.

When they were halfway to Atros a horn sounded out. To the south he saw a small group of riders running towards them. He recognised the one at the front.

“Dana!” Verona yelled as they approached.

Dana waved back, not as wildly as Verona's, before sidling beside them. The other riders formed a large circle around them for protection.

“Glad to see that you're back in one piece.” Dana said, a hint of warmth in her otherwise cold voice. “We had no idea when you three were expected back. Or...if it all.”

She seemed very happy to see her horses again. Her brows narrowed as she saw Kal's exposed feet. She glanced at Kal, holding tightly onto Anton, more specifically her exposed feet and hands.

“I see that you're not hiding yourself anymore. I didn't think that would happen. I thought it would be a lot more different, your hands at least...from the stories I've been told about your kind.”

“You don't have a problem with that?” Kal asked quietly. He felt the tips of her claws dig into his armour.

Dana shook her head. “I'll let your actions speak for you. So far, it's been very good.”

Kal smiled and squeezed onto Anton's side. Dana threw up a brow, looking between Verona and himself before settling on him, a strange almost smirk on her face.

“If only everyone else could do that.” Anton mumbled.

Dana nodded. “I had a long time to think about those sort of things. Anyway, it seems that quite a few things have happened. Quite a few things...Did you win against the Orcs and Clansmen?”

“We did.” Anton replied. “We won...relatively well. We've got an agreement with Duchess Belinda and quite a few other things besides that.”

“Yes. Kal's bow seems to have changed.” Dana said. “I don't remember it being that white.”

“Ah.” Verona smiled wildly. “We got it as a gift from a dick in Qaiviel.”

Dana stared in shock at Verona. Verona chuckled as she shook her head. “Not like that. But we did have some fun.”

Again, Dana looked between the three of them. Finally she sighed and shook her head. “We don't know what to expect from you anymore. When you left it was two and now it's three. I'm guessing that you'll want to have one of those council meetings right away?”

“Yeah. We've got a bit to discuss.”

Dana whistled at one of the riders and sent him forward.

“Anything serious happen while we've been gone?”

Dana's face darkened slightly. “We managed to get that goblin that you wanted.” Her whole body shuddered in revulsion. Images of what the Yellow Goblins did to her came flooding back through her eyes. “I...I really, really didn't want to do that.”

“I know. But it's only one. And it'll be the last one that we'll probably have to get.” Anton replied, Dana didn't look entirely convinced. “Is it bound somewhere safe?”

“Yeah. Near the training field. Just in case something happens to it there'll be hundreds of soldiers to kill it. That...that thing was disgusting. Even bound up it looked like it wanted to rape me.”

“Thank you for doing that, Dana. I realise it wasn't easy on you. But now we'll be have a better idea of how long it'll take to wipe out the larger nests.”

Dana hummed and returned her sight towards Atros. Many soldiers, all wearing full plate metal armour, watched them advance. Their faces turned from sceptical, as they squinted at the limits of their vision, to relief when they got close enough. Quite a few of them could be former bondsmen. They certainly would want to know the fate of their friends and family.

The large outer wooden gate, adorned with dark brown fragments of the Obsidian Towers for extra protection, groaned open. Behind that were dozens more soldiers. Some were equipped with the green Bosciycium metal shields. Jeff evidently trusted these people enough to use such valuable pieces of armour. Though, there was little they could do if they wished to sell it. Atros was still effectively cut off from the rest of the world.

“Right.” Anton looked at Verona and Kal. “Guess they deserve a bit of an explanation. So they don't just make up their own mind from what little they see and hear.”

Both nodded. Kal relinquished her tight grip on his chest and folded her arms underneath her chest as they entered Atros. The soldiers separated and formed a path for them to enter. Almost immediately a growing chorus of questions. Anton coughed loudly, all sound stopping as the soldiers desperately waited for his words. For a moment he felt very...powerful. Not in the sense of his magical abilities, but that nearly a hundred people right here were waiting for him to speak. They would be silent until he said something. Anything.

I guess this is what the Duchess felt, in a sense. Better not get used to it.

Anton coughed again, some even looked around to see if someone else was speaking.

“Our mission to Maxill and the Qaiviel Kingdom was a success. The combined Orc and Deweth Clansmen attack has been thwarted. All those that have friends and family in Maxill, know that they are alive.”

“Thank the Gods!” a soldier at the back shouted, several nearby following.

Anton looked closely at the soldier and saw the flame and lightning markings of his gods had been etched into his armour. Some sort of red and purple colouring had been applied, from what he didn't know. Was this the first convert to the Old Gods?

“In...Indeed.” Anton said. “Thanks should be given to our four gods. Each had a significant role to play in the fighting. But, there are implications from the fighting that we are still working through. I must continue to a council meeting to discuss what has happened. Just know that everyone in Atros and Maxill are safe.”

The soldiers looked quite relieved at his words.

“But,” Anton continued. “It is good to be back.”

He smiled, a few chuckled in response as some yelled at the soldiers to get back to their duty. Those were the ones with the Bosciycium shields, Anton assumed to be higher ranked soldiers that Jeff had assigned to be leaders. The soldiers dispersed and allowed them passage. Dana turned to her riders, telling them to continue with their patrol without her. She was eager to know what happened in Qaiviel, just like everyone else was.

The inside of Atros looked better than it had before. The new buildings were going up at a rapid pace, over half that he could see in the second ring were nearly complete and the rest were well on the way. Stone filled the streets and roads in between the buildings. Everything looked far more ordered and regimented than those on the inner ring. One day that would need to be fixed as well.

The inner wall's gate was already open, quite a few soldiers saluted to them as they passed.

Everything was as he remembered it. Their house had not been touched for better or worse, but something was different in the middle of the central plaza.

Where there used to be a filled-in fire pit was now a large flat granite stone. Ontop of them were four large stone objects. They looked very similar. As they approached it became obvious what they were. The stone idols to their gods had been finished, much faster than Anton thought possible, and had been displayed in the most central and accessible location. Someone had solved the issue of where to put them.

“Huh...” Verona said, cocking her head. “Guess Jira will be happy. I don't see anyone here though.”

“People can offer up there thanks at the idols in the morning or after their work is done.” Dana explained. “Everyone agreed that offering prayers to the gods shouldn't interfere with our livelihood.”

“Also so that people don't try to skip out on work by saying they are going to pray?” Anton asked.

Dana chuckled. “Yeah. Ask Sybil about that. She got quite miffed about that.”

“Huh.”

They reached the front of the Main Hall and dismounted. Out the front a log railing had been built, one which Dana lashed the reins to.

“Feels a bit strange to be back here.” Kal said, keeping close to Anton. He looked down and saw her claws flexing on the stones and dirt. “To be like this. I've never been in a city as I am now, except when I was a slave.”

“Nobody's going to have a problem with it.” Anton said defiantly, giving Kal's head a quick kiss while Verona nodded furiously in agreement. Kal relaxed a little.

Dana cocked her head towards the Main Hall.

“Come on. It'll be a little bit before everyone gets here. Might as well sit down.”

---[]---

It took a few minutes for everyone to assemble. They all received many hugs and handshakes, even a few for Kal, mainly from the women. They seemed less concerned with her Beast-kin traits. Perhaps is was a gender thing. Anton didn't really understand as he didn't find it repulsive in any shape or form.

When they were all gathered they took their seats and looked towards the three of them. Verona took the right side of Anton while Kal took the left. Dana had taken the seat next to Kal.

“Well.” Bertram began, a smile on his weathered and old face. “Let me just say that it's good to see you again. This time we didn't know if you would return. I remember that fighting Clansmen is completely different to fighting Goblins. How many did you end up having to fight?”

“Umm...sixty thousand.” Anton replied.

The room went perfectly silent as they processed his words. Jeff was the first to say anything.

“How many?” he squeaked out.

“You heard right. Sixty thousand.” Verona said, a smirk coming to her face. “Though, we didn't kill them all. Anton probably got about twenty thousand. I think I got a couple of thousand and Kal got a few hundred. With no magic too.”

Everyone seemed quite surprised at hearing Kal's kill count. She was the one without any sort of magical power and yet she had fought very well alongside them. Kal shrunk back for only a second, before pursing her lips and straightened her back, her fingers scratching lightly on the wooden table. She was following her words, she wasn't going to hide any more.

“I did the best I could.” Kal said.

“You did better than that.” Verona added. “You took down an Orc chieftain, and eight of his guards, all by yourself.”

Now everyone's eyes bulged, especially Bertram’s and Sybil's. They caught a flicker of his eye.

“Killing an Orc chieftain is...” Bertram trailed off at the end.

“Oh. And he could use magic.” Anton added that just to see their reactions. “That could easily blow up a giant stone wall.”

“Of course he could.” Jeff said. “It seems that everything you touch just becomes...so weird.”

Kal twitched. They hadn't told them yet about their new relationship, though nobody had brought up their proximity yet.

“But, despite the overwhelming numbers we face we came out on top.” Anton continued. “We have secured a deal with Duchess Belinda, one that will benefit us for many...winters to come.”

“This should be good.” Bertram shuffled in his seat.

“The...” Anton patted his chest. “The pen and paper are still in the packs on the horse. As well as the other thing.”

“I'll get it.” Kal said, rising up from the table and running towards the door. He saw her tail perk up from underneath her cloak and follow her like a trail of smoke.

The moment she was out of earshot everyone's eyes descended upon them.

“I've been meaning to ask.” Jeff began. “But...why isn't she...”

“Covering herself like she used to?” Verona retorted, folding her arms and leaning back into her chair.

“I didn't mean it like that.” Jeff seemed a little embarrassed. Anton knew what he was getting at, and he was sure that Verona did as well, but she was just trying to have a dig to make them uncomfortable.

“Let's just say that things have changed.” Verona said with a wicked smile.

A few looked at Anton who remained as stoic as he could. He didn't want to tell everyone behind her back. They seemed content to wait until she returned.

When Kal returned, with the packs from the horses, she had a noticeable spring in her step. She moved to his side and handed them over. He caught the tiniest hint of a touch from her claws.

“Oh dear.” Sybil said very quietly. She didn't elaborate on her words though he was sure she figured it out. Her eyes darted to Verona, who remained passive, then back to Kal as she took her seat the other side of Verona.

Anton lightly rested his hands on the wooden table.

“Before we go any further, Kal and I...And Verona.” Anton scratched at his short beard. “Well...We're in a relationship now. All three of us.”

Everyone looked between all three of them. Finally Jeff broke. He smiled and turned to Jonathan and Zac. All three started to chuckle.

“I think that I owe someone a drink.” Zac grumbled happily. “Though, I'm sure we all made the same bet.”

“That something like this would happen?” Verona asked.

Jeff nodded. “Yeah. Sort of. Mum told me how Kal was looking at Anton.”

Kal groaned and shook her head, her tanned face starting to flush lightly. Anton smiled and held her leg. She laid her own hand on top of his.

Sam frowned at Verona. “But...You're fine with this? There's no...”

Verona smiled and shook her head. “This is all...agreed upon. Kal and I had a very long talk before any of this and it's all fine.”

Anton hadn't asked what they had discussed. It really wasn't his business.

“Exactly.” Anton said, getting a nod from Kal. “Now, I agreed to this. If anyone has a problem with this than they can take it up with one of my lightning bombs. What we're doing isn't hurting anyone and I won't give up the happiness I have found with both of them because someone has a problem with it. I'm not letting go of Verona or Kal because of someone else's beliefs, no matter who or what anyone else has to say.”

Everyone else was silent. Anton felt his words might have been a little angry but it was something he needed to get off his chest. He wasn't going to lose either of them.

Finally Bertram spoke. “I...I don't think that anyone here has a problem with it. So long as it is...consensual. Which it looks like it is. Others might have a problem with you sleeping with a Beast-kin, but that's their problem. I'm sure they'll keep it to themselves with both of your magics.”

Verona chuckled. “We thought that would be the answer. But...it needed to be said.”

“Quite a few weird things happen between people here after dark.” Sam looked around the council chamber, but it wasn't clear who she was directing her gaze at. “There shouldn't be any complaints, so long as you aren't doing it just outside your house. Speaking of which, is Kal going to move it with you?”

Anton nodded. “Absolutely.”

Kal smiled and gripped tightly onto his leg, not out of fear or anger but in joy.

“I'm glad to know that you've found some more happiness.” Raston began. “I, for one, don't have a problem with it, and the Church of the Holy Father has no sway here anymore. I can't speak for them all but I'm sure that the former bondsmen won't have a problem with it.”

“That's good to know.” Anton said quietly. The less religious tension they would have to deal with the better.

“But you said before that you had something arranged with the Duchess. What sort of deal did you manage to get out of the her?” Raston asked. “And is it safe to cross that forest now?”

“It's safe.” Anton replied, much to Raston's relief. “I have an agreement from the Duchess, in her own handwriting too, that the next two trips that you take to Maxill we will be getting another two hundred and fifty people with you. Then there will be a gap until autumn where it will become one hundred and fifty people and then rise to two hundred for every trip after the end of winter.”

“She can't keep that up forever though.” Zac said. “Even I know that there's something wrong with that. There's only so many people in Maxill. Eventually she'll run out.”

“Indeed. But as part of winning the invasion we got the Duchess a lot more territory.” Verona replied. “And people. She's even got a really big city. Nonbu'rn, I think they called it.” she looked at Anton too check, a flicker of relief knowing that she got it right. “That place alone's got to have thousands upon thousands of people. And then there's all the new villages and hamlets in between. I don't think it'll be a problem.”

“Also.” Kal spoke up, everyone seemed less surprised at her speaking after the previous revelation. “She made it quite clear that she'll be using her prestige from winning the battle to try and expand her control in Qaiviel. That will make her a good ally for An-Atros. I don't know if she'll come to our aid like we did for her.”

“She bloody well should.” Jeff said in a huff. “Especially after what you three did for her.”

“That moves us onto the next point.” Anton opened one of the packs and brought out the special pen. Everyone, except for Verona and Kal, looked strangely at it.

“I never thought I would see a dip pen again.” Bertram said, Sybil nodding. “When I fled the capital was the last time.” He looked up at them. “It's a fine gift, but...”

“It's not just a dip pen.” Anton replied. “It's a special one. One that allows for anyone to write to the other pen. In this case Duchess Belinda has the other one, so we can write to her and she to us. It uses Earth Mana to work, so it'll keep working even if I'm nowhere near it.”

“That sounds good.” Raston said.

Anton quickly explained the specifics on how the pens worked. They seemed rather impressed.

“So...is this one going to stay here?” Bertram asked. “Or are you going to take it with you?”

“This one will stay with you, here.” Anton replied. “I'll make a new one and take that with me. That way I can talk to the Duchess even if I'm away from Atros by having someone writing it from one paper to another. Do you know if you have any more pens like this lying around?”

“We'll have a look.” Sybil replied. “Would a piece of wrapped charcoal work.”

“It could. But I would prefer a pen. It might make it easier for me to use.”

Verona started squeaking, bouncing on her chair. She smiled. “I've just thought of something that's been swirling around my head for some time. Every time I thought to bring it up I...go distracted. What are we going to call ourselves?”

The question stumped most people present. Verona huffed and folded her arms.

“I mean, we can't always just be Atros. I started thinking about it at the Gravestone, when Conrad didn't think much of us when he first saw us when he saw these clothes.”

Anton was starting to get what she was getting at.

“Everyone else is called an Empire or a Kingdom. But we're just Atros. Not that I'm saying that's a bad thing. But it might make things a bit harder for us to work in the future.” Verona looked down at her clothes. “We also need a uniform so we're not seen just as a villager and peasant army. I don't know what though.”

“I get you.” Anton said, giving her leg a squeeze. “Though I don't know if we should be called an Empire or a Kingdom. We're not going to be like any of them so we shouldn't call ourselves that.”

Bertram looked around. “Any ideas? I think we should still keep Atros in the name...Since it's our only city, right now.”

Everyone went quiet as they thought deeply. After a while it seemed quite obvious that nobody had much of an idea of a name. Bertram sighed as he rested back into the chair.

“Something's that not an Empire or a Kingdom...” he trailed off.

“Something greater than them.” Verona said quietly.

“Somewhere everyone can live equally.” Kal spoke in the tiniest whisper.

The only way you could do that, especially in this sort of world, would be through force. Hatred and prejudice seems to run deep between humans and non-humans. And that probably extends to the Empires and Kingdoms. A name that could inspire hope and fear at the same time. That's going to be tricky to find.

“How about...” Anton shook his head. “Some sort of Imperial name.”

Verona shrugged and chuckled. “There we go. Atros Imperial. No, Imperialum...Imperium. I think that's the way to call it. The Atros Imperium. ” She seemed quite pleased with herself. Everyone else appeared to share her opinion. “I think that settles it. The first good name you come up with is the best. I'm all for it being called the Atros Imperium. Anyone else?”

“I think that's a good name.” Jeff said. “The Atros Imperium rising from the old Kar Kingdom. I'll go for it.”

Everyone else nodded. Anton caught Kal smiling at Verona.

Bertram nodded. “Very well. I think that's the name for us now. Though it might be a little odd to hear since we've only got a few thousand people to our name.”

Anton nodded. “We're going to be working on that. I think we'll also need official colours and a flag for Atros, especially if we're going to be a proper force in this world.”

“We'll have a think about it.” Sybil said. “We'll make it a big event to come up with the design.”

Anton smiled. “I like that idea. But, before we go any further, Jeff?” the large bald man raised his chin towards Anton. “I got you that special something?”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously.

Jeff instantly remembered what he had asked Anton to get in Qaiviel. He pushed out his chair, creaking as it moved against the old wood, and hurried towards Anton. Anton reached into the pack and pulled out the small bag. Neither Verona nor Kal knew what was in there but he could see by their faces that they were very interested. Jeff pulled the bag close to his body and looked inside. His face lit up like a child receiving candy for the first time.

“Thank you, Anton.”

Anton gave a light nod. He was about to begin speaking but realised he should keep quiet. Jeff took a deep breath and reached inside the bag, moving slowly to Sam. Sam began to frown and look at the others for support, her hands gripping onto the table. They didn't know what was going to happen. Finally her eyes landed on Anton. It seemed to be asking if this was something terrible, but Anton kept as straight a face as possible.

“What's happening?” Sam asked. She seemed genuinely concerned.

Jeff took another deep breath and pulled out both rings, still concealed in his hands.

“Sam, will you do me the honour...” He pulled out the small rings and took her hand gently, Sam was too stunned to resist. “And be my wife?”

For a moment Anton thought she would say no. Sam just sat there stunned, her face completely unreadable. It began to crack, letting out a weak chuckle before tears started to flow.

“I thought you'd never ask, you big idiot.”

She pulled him into her and hugged him tight. At the last second, just as they were about to collide, they stopped. That brought some questioning looks from those assembled.

“Ah. You didn't have to wait for a ring, you know?” Sam mumbled as she slipped the ring onto her finger. It looked quite good on her. “We've been meaning to tell you, but it seems that I'm pregnant.”

A few cheers of congratulations carried throughout the chamber. Verona seemed the most surprised but she didn't divulge why.

“How far along are you?” Jonathan asked. His children weren't present this time, so he didn't have to give the explanation of how children were made just yet.

“Not that long.” Sam replied. “I just know that I've missed the past two times. So...”

Jonathan nodded. Bertram and Sybil seemed quite happy as well.

“We haven't had a proper marriage ceremony like this in about twenty years.” Bertram said. “I never thought that I'd get to do this again.”

“I don't know what a wedding ceremony is here.” Anton said. “But it looks like it's going to be quite an event. Something to really turn around what's happened.”

“It will be.” Sam looked over at him, briefly at Jeff who returned her nod. “After we're done here I need to speak with you, Anton.”

“Okay?...”

Sam didn't say anything more and just smiled happily, looking at the ring on her finger. That little band of metal and the small gem was worth more than quite a few things in this village, doubly so when compared to before he arrived.

“It seems that today is filled with revelations.” Bertram mumbled, getting a chuckle from Verona and an awkward smile from Kal. “So what's next for you three? I doubt that you're going to stay in Atros for long.”

“One or two days.” Anton replied. “Enough to get our heads settled then we're heading east to the Graterious Empire.”

Kal stiffened at his words. She started to breath a little more harshly but kept herself together, even though she knew where they would be heading after this.

Anton reached into the other pack and pulled out the maps he received from Duchess Belinda. Bertram looked the most pleased. The maps were laid out on the table so they connected. Together they formed a nearly complete map of the Shattered Kingdoms, bar the Deweth Clans and the Elven Kingdom to the south.

“We'll see what sort of connections we can make there. I was told that this city, Porswea.” Anton pointed at the marker on the map of Graterious. “Will be a good place to start. After that we'll head to Seocuria.”

“More Beast-kin?” Avery asked.

“Yes.” Anton replied flatly.

Avery didn't reply. Was he worried or just wanted confirmation? Anton couldn't tell either way, other than to just make a note to keep an eye on him when more arrived. He turned to Dennis, who had been quiet this whole time.

“Dennis. When we return there's a very good chance that we'll be bringing quite a few Beast-kin back with us. And they won't be like Kal. They'll be full Beast-kin.” He glanced at Kal who nodded. “So some of them won't be that...human. If what I understand is correct. We'll need you to keep the peace on both sides.”

“Right....Both sides?”

“The Beast-kin have spent every waking moment enslaved by humans.” Kal continued. “Even I still remember the feelings that I had in Seocuria towards humans, and I was only a child when escaped. They'll have spent ten, twenty, thirty, forty or even fifty winters having the idea that humans are bad beaten into them. It'll take some time for them to realise that you can be good.”

Kal fidgeted with her claws. “It took me a little bit too.”

“So that's what we'll need you to have to work with.” Anton told Dennis.

Dennis nodded in thought. “I'll do my best. When some Beast-kin settle in I'll see about some becoming Deputies. That....I'll keep thinking on it.”

“Thank you.” Anton and Kal said together.

“Can we go?” Jeff asked. “I want to see beyond Atros. Especially since you'll be travelling so far.”

“We don't know how long it could take.” Anton replied. “And I don't know how well pregnant women can travel.”

“It won't be that bad, I don't think.” Sam replied, taking Jeff's hand. “But I don't want this one to go wrong. And you'll be wanting to travel as fast as you can and not weighed down by a woman with a swollen stomach.”

Jeff pursed his lips as he looked down, a little crestfallen. Sam smiled and looked at Verona.

“Besides, when are you expecting yours?”

Verona perked up. “Um...soon, ish? I think after we've got Seocuria sorted then we'll have a talk about it.”

Anton nodded. If they could get some sort of stream of people, and Beast-kin, from both countries, just like Maxill, then there would be a lot more time to settle down. The Demons had yet to appear, they could be years away, so there could be a bit of free time to try and have a family.

“And what about you, Kal?” Sam asked.

Kal blushed and fidgeted with her ear. “I...I don't know if Half-breeds can actually have children. I think I'm the oldest one to have lived in some time. I still have all the normal...things that a woman has. I don't know if that means I can though.”

“I'm sure you'll work on that.” Sam flashed a wicked smile. Kal flushed a little, trying to cover her reddening face with her hands. Anton felt his own flush a little and so too did Verona's. Everyone else chuckled as they shook their heads.

“Back onto what you were saying before.” Bertram said, his face having a hint of red. They had to delicately tell them that his and Verona's night activities were a little loud, though it only was the one night. “Where in Seocuria will you be heading after Graterious?”

Anton looked at Kal. She hadn't told them yet, they were a little distracted as they travelled through the forest. She took a deep breath and pointed to the largest marker on the map of Seocuria. One near the coast.

“I came from here. Danafra, the capital of Seocuria. That's where we need to go.”

---[]---

The rest of the council meeting delved into smaller, and more administrative tasks. Anton did mention thanks to Zac for getting the idols of the fours gods complete in such a short time. He said he would pass the information on.

Sam explained what he wanted Anton to do for the wedding ceremony. As both her parents were no longer alive, she wanted him to be the one to give her away. It appeared to be somewhat similar to the marriages that he was familiar with, with a few more pagan elements thrown in. Anton accepted it, Verona and Kal were very supportive of it.

After the smaller things were handled most of the attention was directed to the wedding. Since they had just returned Anton, Verona and Kal were told that they could have a break. Especially since they needed to move Kal into her new home.

Anton and Verona stood waiting outside of Kal's house, waiting for Kal to collect her few possessions. She said that she wanted to do this herself. A minute later she emerged with two bags, a weak smile on her face.

“This...” she handed one of the cloth bags to Anton. “This is the food that I managed to steal from Atros.”

“How did you manage that?” Verona asked as she looked into the bag. It was filled with dried meat and many long lasting nuts.

Kal scratched at her ear. “I...I can move quietly and quickly enough that the guards didn't see me. So I broke into the stores and got this.”

“Huh.” Anton said, giving Kal's head a rub. “You'll make a great thief.”

“Please don't.” Kal whimpered, Verona laughing at her state. “I don't want to go back to that life.”

“Now you won't.” Verona gave Kal a deep hug, which she returned. “Come on. Let's get you settled in.”

Anton opened the door, relieved to be back to his new home. Some dust had settled everywhere, they would need to spend some time cleaning, but otherwise it was fine and untouched. They would need to get some things to spruce up their home, especially if they were going to have children sometime in the future.

“Nobody's tried anything.” Verona mumbled. “Though I doubt anyone would try and take this house.”

“Not with a Grand Mage, and a Blood Berserker.” Kal added, eliciting a smile from Anton.

“Alright. Where's a good room for you?” Anton said aloud. “There's one near our bedroom...”

“Are you going to be sleeping with us each night?” Verona asked.

Kal flushed but nodded. “Yes. I...I would still like a separate room. I want some privacy to practice a few things.”

“Of course.” Anton replied, opening the door next to their bedroom. “We all need some privacy from time to time.”

Kal gasped as she looked inside. It was completely barren, only a small wooden slat window on the far side for light. She seemed utterly entranced by this empty room.

“It's...It's wonderful.”

Verona looked up at Anton, a strange look on her face.

“I know I said this before in Nonbu'rn, but you did have a house to yourself.”

Kal smiled back at them, an honest smile. “I don't need big spaces like that to be happy.”

She placed her bag down gently in the middle of the empty room.

“That looks a little lonely.” Anton said.

“It does.” Verona added. “We'll need to get you a few things when we head to Graterious.”

“So, what do you have?” Kal asked. “I haven't seen you bedroom.”

As she walked past Anton grabbed underneath her legs and lifted her up. Kal squeaked in surprise, her claws digging into his skin as she looked up at him. Her face was filled with a playful anger.

“Warn me before you do something like that. If someone grabs me-”

“Grabs you?” Verona chuckled. “When one person, in particular, does that?”

Kal grumbled as she rolled her eyes. “So, what are you doing?”

Anton gave Kal a kiss, much to her continued feigned annoyance. “Well, what did you think that we'd be doing when you, Kal, asked to see our bedroom?”

Her face started to grow red again. Both her hands started to nervously play with each other.

“I thought that there would be things that we would need to do for Sam and Jeff's wedding. I was thinking that it might be tonight. Then we'd have lots of time...for us.” Kal stammered out as Verona moved past and opened the door to their bedroom. Already she was taking off her jewellery and her armour.

“You seemed so much more enthusiastic in the forest.” Anton moved her towards the bedroom.

“It's...Now that I'm here.” Kal buried her head into his chest. “It feels like the first time again.”

Anton kissed her deeply again. He lowered her so she was standing on her feet, while she melted into his body, her hands desperately gripping onto his shirt. When they parted Kal was completely flushed while Verona was grinning wildly. She had already taken off her armour and was waiting for Anton. He moved to her and began to kiss and undress her, Verona doing the same for him while Kal began to undress as well.

Verona leaned back with all her weight and pulled them both onto the bed, this time Anton squeaking in surprise as he nearly landed his whole weight onto Verona. She laughed and wormed out from under him. Kal was almost undressed as Verona waved Kal over. There was very little hesitation as she walked towards the bed. Anton gently took her hand and pulled her down, Kal landing in between them.

“We've only got a day or two here.” Verona started to kiss Kal's neck, getting excited gasps from the writhing Beast-kin. “So we should definitely not waste our time. It'll probably be the last time we can do it on a bed for some time, not that being outside wasn't fun.”

“Ahh...Okay.” Kal whimpered out, her eyes misty as she reached out for Anton and pulled him in for a kiss.

---[]---

“What are we supposed to wear to this thing?” Verona asked. She stood naked, looking over the meagre selection of clothes. “I didn't ask before we left.”

“Just something good I suppose.” Anton said, giving her a quick kiss as he moved past her to his own clothes.

Kal remained on the bed, the fur covers hiding most of her body, though it left most of her lovely brown thighs on display. She wasn't asleep but she was dozing, her green eyes staring blankly into the wooden ceiling. It had been quite intense afternoon. One they wouldn't forget for some time.

Now only a little light came through the wooden slatted window above them. The wedding ceremony would be starting soon and they couldn't just stay in bed for the next few hours, no matter how tempting that was.

“Is...Is it right that I wear my armour?” Verona asked. She picked up both her breasts and let them drop. “They can get heavy without them.”

“Um...to a wedding, like this...I don't think so.” Anton found his a new shirt and put it on.

“I suppose.” Verona hummed as she found some new clothes.

“Hey Kal.” Anton said quietly.

“Hm...” she mumbled back, rubbing her eyes as her she rose up. She ran her hands through he dark aqua hair as she stretched herself out. “What's happening?”

“We're getting dressed for the wedding.” Verona said, putting on her pants and folding up their scattered clothes.

“Right...What do I wear?” Kal asked as she hopped up, Verona's eyes immediately drawn to her tail swirling in the air. “Is a Beast-kin even allowed at something like this?”

“Absolutely.” Anton said, getting a smile back from her. “Sam and Jeff are good friends of ours, and they don't have a problem with you.”

“But.” Verona held up Kal's shirt. It was tatty and had many holes in it. The only reason it worked was the many layers of cloth wrappings. “You can't go out wearing this.”

“I wear the wrappings underneath them, so it's fine-”

“It's not fine.” Anton said. “No woman of mine should have to wear something like that.”

Kal's face burst into a red flush, while Verona blushed a little herself as she shook her head.

“Looks like you've definitely agreed to this thing then.” Verona chuckled.

“Well...” Anton scratched his head. “Yeah. I'm not going to let either of you go. Ever.”

Kal tried her best to remain calm, though she realised that she was the only one that was still naked.

“Okay. So, what do I wear?”

“Sybil gave me some extra clothes before we left.” Verona said, reaching underneath the bed and pulling out some lightly coloured simple villager clothes. “These will be good for you. We'll get something when we're in Graterious.”

She chucked them at Kal. Kal opened her mouth to object, but clamped it shut. A few short moments later and it was done. Now, apart from the Beast-kin traits, she looked like a normal villager. The long sleeved shirt and pants only left the extremities of her hands and feet exposed, though her tail poked out from the bottom of her shirt and swayed in the air.

“Do...Do I look good in this?” Kal asked, twirling around with the tail following her like a whip. Somehow she instinctively knew how to be seductive.

“Absolutely.” Anton said. He moved in and gave her a kiss, one which she returned. “You look beautiful.”

Kal groaned as her ears pulled back in happiness, her tail started to sway seductively. Verona took a brush and quickly ran it through her hair a few times then doing the same to Kal's head and hands and feet.

“Can...Can I at least wear my cloak?” Kal asked. “I'm still not that ready.”

Verona handed Kal her cloak, one which had been discarded during their tryst. Kal wrapped it around her her neck. When it was secured she seemed much more calm.

“Okay. I'm ready.” Kal said, her eyes suddenly blinking at Verona. “Oh. I have an idea to deal with your problem.”

Verona cocked her head, waiting for Kal to explain. Kal reached down into the pile of her discarded cloth wrappings and picked one up. She wrapped one end around her hand and sent the other underneath Verona's shirt.

“I didn't think you'd be this eager.” Verona leered at Kal.

Kal shook her head as she wrapped the cloth around Verona's inordinately large breasts, binding them tight. Verona squeaked as Kal gave another tug at her back. She lifted up her shirt for Anton to see, it looked like a simple band that acted like a bra that kept her breasts close to her body.

“I like it.” Verona said. “It doesn't feel so bad now. I'd still like the armour, but this is pretty good for now. Thanks Kal. We'll be sure that you get one of these when they're made properly.”

Kal smiled and gave a light nod.

“Alright, let's go then.” Verona cheered. “I wonder what the ceremony's going to be. I've never seen one. Have you?”

Anton and Kal shook their heads. Verona hummed in excitement as she led them to the front door. Outside was filled with activity, more so than usual. Everything was filled with an air of excitement. If Bertram was right this was to be the first official wedding in some time. This is something that everyone would want to see.

“Just...follow everyone else?” Verona asked with a shrug.

“I guess so.”

Anton and Verona took the lead, Kal walking behind them. He reached back and grabbed her hand, pulling her to his side. She coughed in embarrassment but held herself steady. He caught Verona nodding in approval. She didn't want Kal to be hiding in their shadows either.

A few gave Kal odd looks as they passed. Very few dared anything more than a glance, not with a Grand Mage and Blood Berserker next to her. With every step they took Kal seemed to grow in confidence. She didn't have to hide who she was, at least in Atros.

Some children, barely ten years old, ran up behind them. He glanced back and saw them looking at Kal's tail sticking out from the side of her cloak.

“Miss? What's that?” one asked, pointing at her tail.

Kal glanced at Anton before stopping and turning around. She brought her tail up to her hands as she looked at the children.

“This...This is my tail.” Kal said unconfidently.

“Mummy says that we're not meant to talk to you.” another said, a few nodding in agreement.

“I..I haven't...” Kal stammered out.

“That's not very nice.” Verona said, squatting down to the children’s level. “Why did they say that?”

The child shrugged. “Said that she wasn't human. And she's a Beast-kin.” He sounded very unsure of himself at the end.

“So?” Verona asked. “Does being different make you good or bad?”

The children were stumped. Anton didn't expect them to figure out a question like that. Especially as it was one that continued to stump people no matter their age.

“I...I don't know.”

“Well.” Verona looked up at Kal. “She's a very kind and caring person. Her being different has nothing to do with that. And she has a tail.”

“Can...” a child at the back spoke up, she shrunk down as everyone looked at her. “Is it soft?”

Kal looked at Anton.

“It's your choice.” He whispered to Kal, giving her hand a squeeze.

Kal took a deep breath as she knelt beside Verona and moved her tail towards the children. They were completely hypnotised by the slightly swaying green limb, especially at the three fanned end with the orange mark in the middle.

“You can touch it.” Verona said. “But only this once. And only if you're gentle. It is a part of her.”

A child frowned at Verona.

“You wouldn't like it if I pulled on your ear.” Verona reached out a lightly twisted the child's ear, eliciting a yelp. “See?”

The child nodded furiously as Kal swayed the tail infront of them. With some hesitation they reached out and touched the fur. Their small hands sunk into the fur as their faces started to turn giddy in joy.

“Seems that everyone here enjoys fluffiness.” Anton said, crouching next to Verona.

“Why shouldn't they?” Verona replied.

The children touched her tail for almost a minute. None tried anything as they were too entranced by it. Anton patted Verona and Kal on the shoulder, both rising up as Kal withdrew her tail. The children groaned in disappointment as the furry tail left their hands.

“There you go kids.” Anton said, giving Kal a kiss on the side of her head. “That's all you're going to get.”

“Aww.” they said. So too did Verona.

“Not you.” Verona chuckled as Anton ruffled her hair. “But, as you can see Beast-kin are perfectly fine. Now, are you lot heading to the wedding?”

The children nodded in unison. “Our parents are already there.”

“Well run along then.” Anton said.

The children smiled and ran towards the central plaza, throwing back a hearty wave.

“Bye fluffy miss!”

“Fluffy miss?” Kal repeated, stunned by their words.

“Got a new name for you to us tonight.” Verona laughed and stuck out her tongue teasingly.

Verona took Anton's right arm while Kal, gingerly took his left. They walked in silence to the central plaza.

The large open area was filling with smartly dressed villagers, as smartly as they could be. Quite a few were soldiers dressed in their full military gear. Anton didn't expect any disturbances tonight but they should be always be careful.

A large circle had been formed at the center, around the idols of the gods. Around the center he could see the other members of the council. Most had already assembled, all looking quite good. Their hair had been cut, some women had their braided and straightened as best they could. The men had their beards trimmed and cleaned up as best they could. There wasn't much in the way of jewellery present in Atros but what little there was had been brought for tonight.

“You're not last.” Zac said, waving a path through the crowd of villagers. “We were wondering if you three would be.”

“I'm sure they've spent their time well.” Jeff slyly added.

Anton smiled, feeling a hint of heat rising to his face. “We did. Very well.” That caused everyone around him to flush a little at his honesty. “But who are we waiting on?”

“Jonathan and his kids, as well as Avery.”

“I'm here.” Anton recognised the calm voice of Avery.

As he turned to look back Verona let out a squeak of surprise. He saw Avery, looking rather good, and a person to his side. Specifically, a man. Avery caught his eye and frowned, pursing his lips and looking away.

“Well, since everything seems to be out in the open now.” He looked between Verona and Kal. “I thought it was time I was as well. Everyone, meet my...partner...Mark.”

Anton studied Mark. He was a plain man, a little bit shorter than Avery with thick dark hair. Anton was sure that he has seen him before in the archery training fields.

Huh. Didn't think that was going to happen.

“How you going Mark?” Jeff thrust out his hand for the new man to shake. He seemed a little nervous.

“Very good Jeff.”

“'bout time you brought him out.” Jeff chuckled.

Avery frowned. “You...knew?”

“Of course. Most people did.” Avery closed his eyes and groaned at Jeff's words. “Doesn't matter to us.”

Everyone nodded. It seemed to be a poorly kept and open secret.

Avery looked at Anton. “What about you?”

Anton shrugged. “It doesn't matter at all to me. But, let me ask you a question. Are you and Mark happy?”

Avery and Mark glanced at each other and nodded.

“Then there you go.”

“Huh.” Avery looked quite happy. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“Sorry I'm late.” another voice shouted through the growing crowds. Jonathan, both his children infront of him, came through. He too had dressed himself up, so much as a blacksmith could. His children, on the other hand, looked a little pale. They clearly had tried their best to look their best for the occasion but still didn't look well. Jonathan saw his concern.

“They've been like this since I got back from the meeting.” Jonathan said, his face full of worry. “I got them to have a sleep but they don't seem to be getting any better.”

Anton squatted down to look at them at eye level. They seemed very tired. Even their attempt to smile looked like it took a great effort. Both looked utterly exhausted.

“So you two, what seems to be wrong?” Anton asked as he put his hands on their head.

“My body hurts.” Joclyn said in her calm voice.

“How so?”

“It's like my...” Shawn looked up at his father. “My bones hurt as I move. I haven't been able to sleep properly.”

“We haven't been able to sleep.” Joclyn corrected her brother.

Verona grumbled. She moved close and took Anton's hands off their heads.

“Where's it coming from? Is it your spine...Along your back?”

They both nodded.

Verona shot Anton a panicked glare. He remembered what she was getting at. When she got her powers something very similar happened. She had been suffering great pains, he had used his prayer power to feel through her body and found something, broke it, and then her blood powers had ripped through her body.

“Can you two make it through this?” Anton asked the children. They both nodded, though Jonathan was looking a little worried. “Well, I'll give you guys a bit of a hit to keep you going.”

He put both his hands upon them and chanted a healing prayer. Shawn and Joclyn's eyes widened and cleared, their breathing and posture became better. He didn't dare to try and investigate through their bodies just yet. They didn't need an activation of another glyph during an important event, if that's what it was. There would be time when they were done.

“Thanks Anton.” Shawn gave Anton a hug around his neck.

Joclyn did the same, though without the intensity of her brother.

Anton ruffled their hair as he stood up. Jonathan didn't look too happy.

“They're fine at the moment.” Anton said. “We'll talk when we're done.”

“They're-”

Anton hesitated to tell Jonathan his theory. He had been present when the red glyph markings had torn through Verona's body, when she had thrashed about and her thin frame had enough strength to nearly throw a full grown smith around a room. Now both his children could be undergoing that transformation.

“They're fine.” Anton cut Jonathan off. “I just gave them a bit healing prayer.”

“O...Okay.” Jonathan didn't look to happy but he nodded.

“So...are we ready now?” Jeff asked. He was looking around to see Sam, but now she was the only one missing.

“Sam shouldn't be too much longer.” Bertram said.

He stood as upright as he could infront of the four god idols. Anton hadn't noticed but all four had been turned so they faced them. It seemed that they were going to use them as part of the ceremony.

In the eyes of the gods, or something?

“Excuse me, Anton?” A new voice called out from towards the Main Hall. A tall black haired woman, flanked by four armoured soldiers, came towards them.

Verona grumbled as she looked closely at her. “That's one of Sam's friends.”

Ah...Bridesmaids?

“Sam's ready for you.” she said.

“Right. I guess we're about to start.”

Kal looked at Verona, who took her hand and pulled her to her side as Anton followed the soldiers. The dark haired woman knocked on the door of the Main Hall.

“Have you got Anton?” Sybil's voice came back.

“Yep. The man's right here.”

The door opened and Sybil greeted him.

“Alright.” Sybil turned her head back and raised her voice. “And she's just about ready.”

“I'm ready!” Anton recognised Sam's voice coming from the distance.

Footsteps came towards him. Sybil opened the door a bit more to reveal Sam. The short hair had been braided with small white and blue flowers, almost a silk dress covered her muscular frame. She looked very lovely, Anton coughed to direct his thoughts away.

“So...Anton.” Sam said teasingly. “How do I look?”

“Lovely.” Anton replied, a faint flush from praise on her face. “Jeff's got a very good catch.”

Sam raised a brow, though she seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“Well, it's about time that he proposed. I was wondering if he ever would.” She held out her arm for Anton to link his own through. Taking another deep breath as Anton took her arm. “Let's go.”

Sybil opened the door fully, much to the cheering crowd. The moment Sam emerged he felt her body tense. He patted her hand as they walked slowly towards the altar. Bertram waved to the council members to move either side, leaving Bertram standing in the middle and Jeff infront of him to one side. It definitely felt like the weddings Anton was familiar with.

The cheers became even louder as they passed by.

“When are you getting married?” Sam asked quietly. “You got Jeff a wedding ring, so where's Verona's? Or Kal's, for that matter.”

“I think I'll get them in Graterious. See what they've got to show for themselves.”

Sam nodded a little, so not to shake loose any of the work done on her hair. “I don't know about you and Kal, but make sure that they're always happy.”

“I will. I always will.”

Sam smiled at him. “Good. Those girls couldn't really ask for more.”

“Good luck.” he whispered as they approached the central pillar.

They moved slowly right up to Jeff. Anton unlinked his arms, recieving a tiny nod from Bertram, and moved between Verona and Kal.

"I'm not sure if that's right." Anton said quietly. "I should have got instructions on what I was supposed to do."

"I think you did alright." Verona whispered back. Kal was completely unreadable as she watched the wedding unfold.

Bertram raised his hand and the crowd began to quieten. He cleared his throat and began. "People of Atros!" his voice carried quite far. "We come together, under the sight of the Old Gods, to witness these two bonded forever in a sacred union."

Verona tugged on his sleeve. "Will...Will we be having one of these?"

Anton nodded and wrapped his arm around her. "Absolutely. But there's something else I need to do before that."

"Put a baby in me?" Verona asked with feigned innocence.

Anton almost coughed at her words. Bertram, still talking, glanced briefly towards them before continuing with his speech.

"I was thinking of the wedding ring. I think there's going to be a big variety of jewellery in Graterious. I'll find a pretty one for the both of you. I wouldn't want either of you to be seen wearing junk."

Verona flushed, so too did Kal. She was listening in as subtly as she could.

"Will we be allowed to have a wedding like this?" Verona asked.

"I don't know." Anton replied. "But it'll be fun no matter what."

Verona chuckled and squeezed his hand. Anton looked back to Bertram.

"Let their union be everlasting and blessed by the gods to bring eternal love and happiness."

Jeff and Sam held hand and exchanged their rings.

Oh, they give each other a ring, and they swap it again. Didn't really think it would be that. But, who am I to judge?

When they finished exchanging their rings the crowd erupted in cheers again.

"Well, that was quick." Kal said, looking at both of them. "Seocurian marriages take nearly a whole day."

"Huh..." Anton said.

"We've got better things to do with our time." Verona started clapping along with everyone else.

The crowds tried to push forward to congratualte the newlyweds as the soldiers tried their best to stop a crush of people. Jeff and Sam were pushed towards the Main Hall escorted by soldiers.

"What happens now?" Verona asked as she moved close to Anton for safety.

"Now we celebrate!" Zac said.

---[]---

A party, such as it was, soon descended upon Atros. Food and drink flowed as Jeff and Sam were offered congratulations and words of support as they sat at a table of honour. Dozens of soldiers made sure it was an organised affair.

Anton, Verona and Kal moved quickly through the crowd and waited their turn until they were at the front of the line.

Jeff and Sam's faces lit up as they saw them approach.

“Congratulations you two.” Anton said as they finally approached.

“Glad to see you both so happy.” Verona added.

“Con...Congratulations.” Kal stammered out.

Jeff rose up and gave Anton a giant hug. It was the type he was expecting, where it seemed he was trying to crush all the air out of Anton's lungs. When he released Anton, Jeff's face was practically beaming.

“Thanks for getting them.” he held up his hand. “I wouldn't have had the courage to do it otherwise.”

“You're the commander of the soldiers of Atros.” Verona said with a wide smirk. “How difficult was it to ask her to marry you.”

Jeff shook his head. “More terrifying than anything I've been through so far.”

“I wish you both luck.” Anton said. “Do you know when you're expecting the baby?”

“Well.” Sam rubbed her chin. “If I missed my last two periods, and it's about the middle of summer, I think about the beginning to middle of spring. So that means that I won't be able to do that much over the winter. Other than try and stay warm.”

“If you need anything you ask.” Verona said. Sam chuckled as she glanced at Anton. If she needed anything, like healing, it would be up to Anton. He didn't have any desire to deny her that.

“May you always be happy.” Kal bowed her head.

Sam and Jeff chuckled. “The same thing goes for the three of you. I want to see some babies running about soon. I think mine and yours will be great friends.”

Verona and Kal smiled, Anton could see the flush rising on their faces. They were fantasising about what that would be like, one that Verona had told him about one night.

“We won't hold you up any longer.” Anton bowed his head. “Good luck to the both of you.”

“You too.” Jeff and Sam said to them.

The three waved as they left the wedded pair. Both linked their arms as they walked back through the crowds.

“Do either of you see Jonathan?” Anton asked.

“What was happening to them?” Kal leant close to them.

Verona held up her free hand for Kal to see, specifically the red tattoos running over her skin. “This might be happening to them. It hurt like crazy, but they're so young.”

Kal stood up on her feet, now taller than Anton, and spun around. She gripped his arm tight and pointed towards the Main Hall. They found Jonathan and his two children at the side of the Main Hall. Shawn and Joclyn looked a little worse for wear, despite the prayer power he used on them, while Jonathan looked increasingly concerned and worried.

“Hello, Anton.” He gave an awkward wave. “You said to wait until after the ceremony was done. So...”

“Right.” Anton looked at Verona. She nodded as Anton placed his hand upon Shawn's head. He started to feel through his mana and into the boy, something he hadn't done since Verona's activation. Slowly he searched throughout the body.

“That, that feels really weird.” Shawn said, a pair of frantic eyes looking over his body.

“Does it feel like there's water running underneath your skin?” Verona asked.

Shawn nodded.

“Don't worry.” Verona said, crouching down and smiling. “Anton's just looking with his magic to make sure nothing's wrong.”

Anton continued his search until he found something. Near the small of his back was a something, a small grain of sand lodged in the spine. It didn't feel like the rest of his body through his mana. With the utmost caution he tried to move it. The speck moved but bounced back after he moved it barely a millimetre. He knew what it was. Before saying anything he checked Joclyn as well. She seemed more calm than her brother but not much more. Once again he found the grain of sand in her back. Somehow this felt different than her brothers, though he couldn't exactly explain how. He didn't even really remember what Verona's was like.

Just for the same of completion he checked Jonathan. He had nothing.

Anton pursed his lips. “I think I know what might be happening.” Anton said.

“Really?” Verona asked. “They've...”

“Yeah.”

Verona grumbled as she scratched her head. Kal and Jonathan looked confused between them. Anton lightly sighed. There was no point in dancing around the issue.

“I think that Shawn and Joclyn have the signs that they are developing glyphs of the Old Gods. Like Verona and myself”

Everyone was silent.

“Like...Verona's?” Jonathan asked.

Anton nodded. Shawn seemed ecstatic while Joclyn was still very happy. Jonathan was terrified.

“Are you sure?” Jonathan weakly asked.

“We're going to have powers!” Shawn threw both arms into the air in joy. “What will I have?”

“I don't know. We didn't know what Verona's powers were for a little while after she got them.”

Jonathan whimpered. “I do not want my children to go through what Verona did. To see them go through that...”

“For Verona, I reached out and crushed it. Then the bad thing happened to her.”

“It...It wasn't fun.” Verona scratched her head.

“So, what do we do?” Jonathan asked, trying to rein in his children's glee at potentially gaining powers. “What if it happens when you are not here?”

“There are a few things that we could do.” Anton said. “We still need to head to Graterious in the next day or so. So...We could take your kids with us and then deal with it as the glyph happens naturally.”

Jonathan didn't look to pleased.

“Or, I forcibly activate it before we leave. Something like Verona.”

“I do not like either of them.” Jonathan looked terrified.

“Well, we're going to be here for the next few days.” Anton said, smiling at both the children. “So we've got a bit of time to figure things out. But, if you two do end up getting the glyphs of power when we're gone I want you to promise me one thing.”

“Okay?” Shawm said quietly.

“Don't try to use it without thinking it through.” Anton received frowns from both of them. “If something bad were to happen to you, or from something you did, and I'm not here...”

They got the idea and nodded.

“Good on you.” Anton ruffled their hair.

“Thank you, Anton.” Jonathan said, still looking very worried.

“Go home and get some sleep. Eat well and stay strong. We'll see how it feels in the morning. If anything goes wrong, don't hesitate to get us. No matter what time of the night it is.”

“I...Thank you.” Jonathan patted his children. “Come on. It's time to go to bed.”

They both seemed quite tired, despite the prayer healing, and simply followed their father after giving a final wave.

“Are you sure they'll be okay?” Verona asked.

“I don't know.” Anton replied. “I don't know anything about how the glyphs are supposed to work normally. I'm pretty sure I forced yours. Maybe it's not that painful.”

“What are you talking about?” Kal asked.

“Right.” Verona nodded. “I had a few problems with something with my back. Anton found something through his mana, something that he said felt like a stone in my spine, and crushed it. Then everything went red as something tore through my body. It really, really, really hurt.”

Verona flexed her wrists to show off the red marks.

“Then I got these.”

“And those two have the same thing.” Anton watched them walking through the crowds. “Though they're not as big as Verona's was. I don't know what that means. I need more information on how this works. I get the feeling that the Deweth Clans might be the only place that know anything about how these work. There was that Clansmen who knew of other Blood Berserkers.”

“Do I have one of those things?” Kal asked.

Anton held his hand on her head and searched through her body. Kal gasped as he searched through her body. Verona chuckled as she watched Kal's surprise. He searched through her whole body but didn't find anything.

“Nothing, Kal.”

Kal's ears drooped.

“Trust me.” Verona said. “It's not all that good when it's tearing through your body.”

Kal started to pout, folding her arms and turning away. “You say that but I've only a got three daggers and a bow to fight with. No magic. I'm not like you two.”

“A very good bow at that.” Anton said, giving her a squeeze from behind. “And if I didn't have magic there's no way that I could even get a hit on you.”

Kal relented and kissed him back, giving Verona one too before she could complain. “I guess.” Kal grumbled, but she did look happy.

Anton looked back at the happy couple. They truly did seem happy.

“I think it's time that we leave them to it.” Verona said. “We've got a lot to do in the morning to get ready. And there's a lot we still need to do tonight.”

Kal flushed and grumbled at the same time, Anton gave Verona a quick kiss. Anton linked his arm with Kal as Verona led them out of the revelling crowd and towards their house. The night was long and passionate, far more than they had before. When they were done, and drifting off to sleep, Anton said a silent prayer to Tethra for help with Shawn and Joclyn. The mana left him but he didn't get an answer as he drifted off to sleep with both girls sleeping soundly in his arms.

Chapter 069. Vol 3 - Blessed

Chapter 069:

Something awoke Anton from a deep and wonderfully relaxing sleep. Verona and Kal, both exhausted and dishevelled from their nightly activities, squirmed a little in his arms but refused to wake. His sleepy and tired eyes looked up at the wooden ceiling above them. There was very little light coming through the wooden slat window, barely illuminating their sleeping forms. It looked to be the same amount of light when Kal had awoken him before the battle at the Gravestone. Not the time he would normally wake after a night like that. One of Verona's hands caressed over his chest then stopped with a sleep filled sigh.

I didn't get a dream with Tethra...Should I have tried to speak with Esperit or Stratos? Is Tethra still too weak to have a direct dream with me? I-

A massive banging on the front door brought him to full alert. Kal's eyes shot open as she lept off the bed, diving to her small pile of clothes and weapons, and grabbed her new blade. Kal, still completely naked with her tail resting over the floor, crouched low and looked towards the door.

“What's happening?” Verona mumbled. She was taking her time in waking up.

“Someone's at the door.” Anton and Kal said in unison.

He shuffled off the bed and put on his shirt and pants. Verona made a little grumble as she dragged herself out of bed and groggily dressed herself. She groaned and squinted her eyes as she looked towards the wooden slat window. Kal had remained at alert, moving to the door of their bedroom and peered around. While she was very threatening it was undermined by watching her tanned body from behind. Anton picked up her new clothes, having to cough to get her attention, and handed them to her. Kal frowned at him then looked down at her naked body. She chuckled as she took her clothes, a tiny flush to her face.

“I forget what it's like to sleep naked.” She quickly threw on the shirt and pants, keeping her focus towards the front of the house.

Seeing them both in such a casual state of dress was very exciting. Another knock on the door stopped him from enacting on his thoughts. Verona took her spear, resting against the wall, and advanced on the door. Both girls took great effort to make sure that they were infront of Anton.

“Who is it?” Verona asked.

“Sir. Jonathan's in trouble.” Anton didn't recognise the voice. “He sent me to come find you.”

Verona opened the door with one hand and had the spear lowered to strike. Three armoured guards were waiting on the other side. They seemed very worried.

“Forgive us for waking you us this early but we could hear the screams several houses away.” The closest guard spoke. “They're clawing at their backs and can't be calmed down. He told us to come find you right away. That you would be able to help them.”

“Fuck.” Anton grumbled. “It's happening. Alright, we'll be there right away.”

They ran towards Jonathan's house, the former smithy building, not bothering to put on shoes. The guards ran infront to deal with any obstructions. It seemed that Kal could run much faster than everyone as she was visibly having to slow down to match their speed. She also didn't know where they were going. This was also the first time that she had been outside in Atros without her cloak. It was especially noticeable as her giant fanned tail followed her like a snake in the air. She didn't try to hide or control it other than keep it out of everyone's way.

When they made it to the central plaza he could hear faint screams in the distance. Kal whimpered as she turned back and held tight onto his arm as they moved forward. He guessed that there was much horror inflicted upon the Beast-kin children in Seocuria. Hearing similar noises, even hundreds of miles from the country, must have thrown her back to that horrible place. Verona moved to the other side and squeezed on Kal's other hand, calming her a little.

Dozens of villagers were surrounding Jonathan's house when they arrived. Guards were doing their best to break up the crowd but it seemed to be an impossible task. Many were shouting to know what was happening; if it was another magical experiment gone wrong, a Goblin or Kobold, or even if it was their resident Beast-kin doing something terrible to Jonathan's children, like they had been told when they were young. Anton shook his head at hearing such ridiculous accusations, thankfully Kal made no reaction to it. When they approached the crowd quietened down their shouts.

In the mass of people he could see Dana and Dennis at the back, trying to force their way through.

“Dana!” Verona said loudly to catch her attention over the screams of the children children. “Can you make a way through for us?”

Her head swivelled around and shouted towards her brother. When he saw them running towards them his face paled slightly until he realised that he wasn't in trouble. He pushed forward, a few deputies moving the people and forming a path. The guards infront of Anton moved forward and made a path and connected the two.

“Thanks you two.” Verona said back at them, Anton waving at them as well.

Two guards stood at the door and let them in. Once the door opened the screams became nearly deafening, all of them wincing from the sheer volume. Kal covered her ears and rested herself on Verona. He could see the pain on her face.

The inside of Jonathan's house was a complete mess. What was once the small forge was now a pile of destroyed furniture. Shawn and Joclyn's screams came from the small side room that once was Jonathan's, and his family's, entire small home. They made a few paces when a large burly man stumbled back from the side of the room. A man that looked like a bear.

“Zac?” Anton asked the man.

Zac grunted and turned to him, one side of his face bright red from being struck.

“Thank your gods you're here.” He said, waving them in. “They're going crazy.”

The screams grew even louder as Anton continued inside their small house. On the side of the room, lying on two small beds, were Shawn and Joclyn. Their backs were arched up, only their heads and feet were touching the bed as their fingers scratched and tore at their clothes and skin like a crazed and rapid animal. He had seen this before. Jonathan, tears running down he red and puffy eyes, was desperately trying to hold them down and stop them from thrashing about. Anton didn't say anything and moved forward and placed his hand on both the children.

Alright Tethra, we're going to need to help out here.

Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, I beseech you to help these two through whatever they are going through. To ease their pain and soften this...activation of their glyphs.

Again, Anton was guessing at the proper words for the prayer. How he wished for an instruction on how the prayer powers were supposed to work. Perhaps Graterious would have the answers.

When the mana left him, and split into Shawn and Joclyn's writhing forms, they began to calm down. Almost instantly their screams stopped and their body's went limp. Loudly they thumped onto the bed. Their faces, flushed red with tears staining their cheeks, rocked to the side as they began to take short and shallow breaths.

“Thank you.” Jonathan said, his voice choking up.

He looked at both his children.

“What happened?” Verona asked. Anton was pretty sure they all knew.

“I...I do not know.” Jonathan began, wiping away the tears building in his eyes. “Zac and I were having a drink after the wedding and then they both started screaming. We both rushed over and they were thrashing about like you saw.”

Jonathan moved the hair away from his children's faces.

“They were able to throw us both about. I remembered what happened when Verona got her power.”

“I think that's what's happening here.” Anton said. “Can you turn them on their side? I want to see if there's a mark or glyph on their backs.”

Jonathan moved to the side of the bed and lifted Joclyn to her side. Her hands had not torn through the clothes yet but, judging by the frays and badly stretched weave, it was close. Jonathan coughed and raised his daughters shirt. There was nothing on small of her back, where Verona's glyph lay. Jonathan let out a sigh of relief. He had been present when Verona received her glyph.

“Better check all of the back.” Anton nudged at Jonathan.

He nodded and continued. There was no sign of a glyph or its distinctive tattoo swirls that grew out from the central mark. Jonathan let Joclyn lie on her back again and checked Shawn's back. Nothing was present. Jonathan seemed relieved. However Verona grumbled as he scratched at her head, a deep from forming on her face. Anton caught her eye.

“Well...When I got my glyph, I did that.” Verona began, waving to both silent children. “The kicking, screaming and writhing about.” Her frown deepened, everyone became visibly worried at her look. “I mean, I did that. Then I calmed down for a bit. And then-”

Shawn started groaning as his hands clutched at the bed, so too did his sister.

“Here we go.” Verona mumbled.

She handed her spear to Zac and moved between the children. Kal looked confused at Zac, who shared her expression. Verona held their hands tight as they began to thrash about again, letting out terrifying screams. Jonathan used his weight to try and hold Shawn down while Joclyn continued to thrash about. Anton tried his best to keep her still but was utterly stunned by the strength surging through her body. While he was afraid of hurting her, but he couldn't keep her still any other way than pushing down on her with all his strength.

Zac lent Verona's spear against the wall and moved to help hold down Shawn while Kal moved to hold Joclyn. Both screamed even louder, so loud that Anton felt his brain hurt from the sound. Slowly their screams started to die down to loud and disturbing cry.

A sound of tearing flesh filled the air, coming from both of the children. Anton turned Joclyn on her side while a terrified Jonathan did the same to his son. Their groans became shouts as their bodies started to convulse again. They did their best to hold them steady as they lifted their shirts. On Joclyn's back, between her shoulder blades, a large purple and white lightning bolt etched its way onto her skin. The mark was only a few centimetres long but it was unmistakable. It was exactly like the lightning glyph on his hand. Around the bolt a small circle of the same colour emerged, around that many small bolts of arc lightning grew out equally until it reached the base of her neck to her shoulders. When the marks had stopped growing Joclyn's groans became weaker as she started coughing and held tightly onto Verona's hand.

What's Shawn got then?

Anton looked at a stunned Jonathan. He moved his head past his large frame and saw something similar forming on his back. Unlike the lightning bolt on his sister, an orange and red flame formed on his back in the same place. Larger licks of flame radiated out of the central flame covering half of his upper back. Anton looked down at his hand again, the mark was the same. Shawn started to calm and rolled onto his back. His eyes, filled with tears, looked up at his father.

“Dad?” he asked weakly. “What...What happened? Was I in a fire? What happened?”

Jonathan was too stunned to speak. Anton patted him on the shoulder and moved him slightly to the side so he could squat next to the bed.

“How are you doing?” Anton asked.

Shawn's eyes closed, with some effort he opened them again. “I...I don't know. I'm so tired. What happened?”

Anton smiled, stifling a chuckle. “Well. I think it's safe to say that you, and your sister, are now mages.”

“What?” Some of the life had returned to him. He tried to raise himself up but Anton stopped him. There was virtually no strength left in him to resist.

“Just relax for now.” Anton chanted a light healing prayer for him. “In the morning you'll be better. Verona was already hitting me awake the day after she got hers.”

“I remember that night.” Shawn said. “Auntie Sybil moved us away before we could see anything.”

Anton smiled and rubbed his head. “Sleep for now. Things will make more sense in the morning.”

“Okay...” A frown formed on his face. “How is Joclyn? How is she?”

Anton looked back to his sister. Verona was talking to her, in the quietest voice possible, as Kal tried her best to calm her. He saw Joclyn's head nod lightly in response to something Verona said. A tiny smile formed on her face as Kal said something as well, her Beast-kin hand holding lightly onto hers. Joclyn looked a little apprehensive at first but quickly held tightly onto it.

“She's fine. But you need to rest.”

“Okay.” Shawn closed his eyes, holding onto his fathers hand. His head fell to the side, a few breaths passed and he was fast asleep.

“Jonathan?” Anton said, lightly shaking the large man.

“Hmm?” he still seemed distant and lost.

“You can relax. Your children are fine.”

“I...” he looked over at Joclyn. Verona got her to lay on her back. A few seconds later she was asleep as well.

“Come on.” Anton said, motioning for them to leave.

“What is happening to my children?” Jonathan asked, his voice full of worry. His large weathered hands fidgeted uncontrollable, his whole body shaking as well.

“We should speak somewhere a bit more private.” Anton looked towards the door and into the other room. “But it looks like we've still got quite a few guests outside that we need to get rid of.”

“They made quite a bit of noise themselves.” Zac grumbled. “I thought they were going to try and break down the door to get in here.”

“To what end? Because they could actually do something to help or just be a pain?” Verona asked, Kal nodding as well. Nobody could give a proper answer.

“Alright. I'll be back in a bit.” Anton opened the door and saw the anxious crowd. Dennis and his Deputies had tried their best to disperse the crowd, continuing as Anton emerged, but it was a rather futile effort. When the crowd saw him the questions and shouts flew forth.

“What's happening in there?”

“Is it safe?”

“Did a Goblin get in?”

That question brought a lot of murmurs. In a few seconds the crowd were all asking about a potential Goblin assault, a secret Goblin infiltration and why they would be allowing it attack the children, and then to a full scale assault from the south. As each person fed off each other's wild speculation in the vacuum of information, the uncontrollable nature of a terrified crowd took hold. It was amazing to see them come to a decision even though nothing had actually been said. A few seconds passed and they were already starting to push forward.

Yeah, can't let this keep going. Though it would be interesting to see how far they could go if it wasn't so serious.

Anton raised his hand and through up a small lightning bomb. He didn't detonate it, but it was enough to quieten the crowd.

“Thank you.” Anton said, withdrawing the lightning bomb. Nobody said another word. “Now, what you just heard...was the second and third blessings of the Old Gods to be given to the people of Atros. Another two people now have the power to use magic.”

“It doesn't sound like a blessing.” A woman replied.

Anton nodded. “I can definitely understand that. However gaining such power...” Anton summoned a small lightning and fire bomb above his head. “Does have its' consequences. I've lost almost all of my memories and have no idea who or what I was before I arrived here. Verona, with her powers, went through the same thing as well.”

A few murmured, their temperament a little hard to measure properly. It wasn't as hostile as it was before though.

“I will explain in the morning if you require more information.” He withdrew the lightning and fire bomb. “Just know that everything is under control and everything is fine. There's nothing more to be done here so please return to your homes.”

The crowd slowly started to disperse. He caught Dana and Dennis, at the back, directing the people back to their homes. They caught his eye and he gave them a little nod, which they seemed to appreciate. Both the guards stationed either side of the door remained as the crowd dispersed. Anton gave a quick thanks to the guards and went inside, closing the door. Everyone inside looked very worried at him.

“They're going now.” He said, waving to the far side of the room. “Two guards will be stationed outside your house for a little while. Just in case someone tries something. I don't think they will but, better to be safe than sorry.”

“What did you say?” Verona asked.

“I said that they have the Old Gods blessings and that I would explain more in the morning. That seemed to be enough for now.”

“You made a lightning bomb.” Kal said quietly. “You didn't use it but I could hear it.”

Anton nodded. “I just had to be a bit dramatic to get their attention. So, do we have somewhere where we can sit?”

Jonathan and Zac pulled up the remains of the wooden furniture. It seemed that only a few were actually broken. There was enough seats for all of them, so long as Verona sat on his lap. That wasn't a problem as he could rest his chin on Verona's head and still look over without any problem, much to Verona's annoyance at his subtle pointing out her lack of height.

“What is happening?” Jonathan asked.

“Both of your children have been blessed by the Old Gods.” Anton held up his glyphed hand and pointed to Verona with his other. “From what I'm guessing, Joclyn has received the mark of Stratos, the God of Storm, and Shawn the mark of Esperit, the Goddess of Fire. So they'll be able to use magic like me.”

Jonathan looked on still terrified. He had just been told that his children had just become someone possibly as powerful as Anton was, that could hold such power in their tiny frames. It was no wonder he was worried.

“What...What happens now?” Jonathan asked.

“For now, nothing. There's still a little time before morning so we should let them rest.” Anton lowered his hand. “I don't know if you can but...”

“I...I...” Jonathan stammered out. He seemed so completely and utterly lost. Zac, thankfully, came to his rescue.

“I'll take care of him.” Zac said. “Make sure he gets some sleep. They're not going to use their power in their sleep?”

Anton and Verona shook their heads.

“No.” Verona replied, quickly glancing up at Anton. “Even at the beginning I needed to think to use it. Nothing will happen to your children while they're sleeping.”

“That...That is good to know.” Jonathan said. “I am sorry if I have been a little bit out of it. This is just...”

“I can understand where you're coming from.” Anton patted Verona's head. “I was pretty worried when Verona was going through it.”

Verona nodded. “It was a lot better than mine though. We'll just need to see what magic they can use compared to Anton.”

“Right. Are you still going to Graterious and beyond?” Zac asked.

“Yes.” Anton replied. “We'll make sure that they understand a bit about their powers before we go. I'm not just going to leave with them not understanding anything. That would be incredibly dangerous and reckless of me..”

“Well.” Zac looked out a small wooden window. “It's going to be a little bit before the sun's going to be up and then we'll see how things go from there.”

“Good decision, Zac.” Verona said, hopping off Anton. “We'll meet up again when they wake up.”

---[]---

After returning to their house it was difficult for Anton to even think about going to sleep again. It seemed to be the same for both girls. When they returned they hopped into bed with him and lay there in silence, each hand searching out for another for comfort. Anton's thoughts were stuck in hearing them scream. Seeing the two children writhing as the glyphs carved their way through their body was very disturbing. Would everyone that received the blessings of the Old Gods go through the same thing? And why didn't he when he arrived in this world? Had it already been done when he black out after the crystal was embedded in his hands? Perhaps somebody in the Deweth Clans would know, but there was no way for him to get there now.

“Anton?” a voice spoke to him.

Kal nudged at his shoulder with her Beast-kin claw. She, and Verona, looked very worried at him.

“You're doing that looking away thing again.” Verona mumbled.

“Sorry. I'm just wondering if this is going to happen every time someone gets the blessing of one of the Old Gods. It's going to make it a little difficult to convince people to worship them if they start screaming in pain like that.”

Verona shrugged. She looked up at the wooden slat window and sighed. There was a lot more light coming through than before, more than enough for most people to start their day. She patted Anton's thighs and hopped out of bed, dragging him out as well. She picked up her chest armour and began to fasten it tight. Kal picked up her cloak and wrapped it around her neck, then attached her new bow and quiver. A sense of relief came over her as she wrapped the lightly tattered cloth around her. She was still most comfortable with it on, even with his and Verona's presence to ward off any bad sentiment.

“Well...” Verona slapped the metal clasps to make sure they were fastened. “When they see what they can do they'll by lining up to pray. If they can do anything like like you can there won't be any complaints.” She scratched at her silver hair. “I wonder if they'll try praying to Jira...”

Anton gave Verona a quick kiss and looked out the window. Now it was definitely dawn. People would start waking up and going to work. They too would need to work hard. Mainly getting ready for their trip to Graterious and then onto Seocuria. It was going to take them a while, judging by the maps they had received from the Duchess.

“There is one thing I want to see before we disturb the children.” Anton said. “And we need to get some things prepared.”

Verona and Kal glanced at each other and followed him out the house.

Outside was beginning to fill with people. Some regarded Kal, now fully showing off her Beast-kin traits, with some surprise and scorn, but they kept such thoughts to themselves.

It'll take some time to change, but there's not that many doing that anymore. Especially the former bondsmen. After hearing that she was a big part of saving their friends and family I hope they'll become a bit more friendly. When there's more Beast-kin, ones that don't look human, she'll probably get a little lost in it. That's kind of a bad thought. Having distractions to take their eyes of Kal? I-

A pain came from both his sides. Verona pinched at his waist while Kal gripped lightly onto his shoulder. They said nothing, but their faces warmed when he ruffled their hair. He definitely was thinking away again. He held both of tight underneath his arms, both seemed a lot happier with his touch and embrace.

The central plaza was becoming a hive of activity even this early in the morning. Many gave them a small berth as they passed. Still the looks of fear, suspicion and puzzlement were thrown at Kal as she passed. She seemed to be handling it relatively well, but Anton saw that she she wasn't looking back at them.

At the side of the central pillar, with the God's idols on top, he spied Jeff and Zac speaking hurriedly. They saw them approaching and waved them over.

“I thought you would still be in bed.” Anton said.

Jeff chuckled. “While I would love to keep playing with my new wife all day I've still got work to do. Especially after what I heard this morning. How are they?”

“They're fine. We're just going to wait until they wake on their own and go from there.” Anton turned to Zac. “Is Jonathan okay?”

Zac shrugged. “He's taking it alright. All things considered. There's still some guards outside in case something goes wrong.”

“Good.” Anton clapped his hands. “But I want to see that Goblin that Dana said she'd caught. Where is it?”

Zac nodded and waved for them to follow. They travelled to the north of the village, to the side of the training fields. Very few people were present this early in the morning, only those that were getting the place ready or practising in secret. Those few paid them little mind as they passed.

To the far left of the fields was a small enclosure built from thin pieces of wood. To the side stood two guards, both looking quite tired and disinterested at their task, but they kept their vision focused firmly on the enclosure. Inside was a Green Goblin, tied to the ground with rope and large wooden stakes. It thrashed about wildly, trying to free itself of its binds. Thankfully the villagers had done a very good job of restricting even its most basic movements.

“Sir. Grand Mage.”

Both guards snapped to attention and saluted as they saw them approach. Jeff gave one back and waved for them to relax.

“Thanks you two for doing this.” Jeff said. “I can understand it's not the best work.”

One shrugged. “It's pretty easy.” He pointed the butt of his spear towards the creature. “Though, that thing's not making it that enjoyable. Hasn't stopped moving since they brought it here.”

Anton looked at the writhing Green Goblin. They all looked the same to him; a deformed humanoid face, rotten and yellowed crooked teeth, bulging eyes that stared at them with unrivalled hatred, a distended stomach hanging over a small rag that covered their groin. Its claws and feet flexed uselessly at its binds.

When it saw him its face changed to a snarl, changing again when it saw the two girls. It was excited, very excited to see them. Verona grumbled at the sight while Kal shook her head.

“These things are so disgusting.” Verona looked like she was ready to kill it there and then.

“How long has it been here?” Anton asked.

“About four days.” the guard replied. “As per Dana's instructions we haven't been feeding it...though we don't know what these things eat.”

Anton looked again at the creature writhing on the ground. All of its attention was clearly placed on the two women. He waved his hands and it barely noticed, its eyes flickered towards him then back to them. A tongue lolled about over its green lips. It made Anton feel a little sick to see such a thing.

“Maybe because it's dying it's focusing on it's base needs.” Anton said aloud. “Instead of surviving it's trying to breed? Maybe it doesn't recognise how much danger it's in? Or they're just crazy?”

He turned to Jeff and Zac. “I want to take a little closer look at it.”

“Why?” Everyone asked.

“I want to see a few more things. See if it's actually dying.” He looked at the Goblin again. “Right now it seems like it's fine. If it got out I'm sure that it would try to attack all of us.”

Jeff sighed but didn't try to stop him. Verona grabbed his hand, a dagger in the other one.

“Just in case.” she said, her eyes turning red.

She took a small portion of blood and formed a small shard above her, then squeezed his hand. Anton used a small prayer to heal himself and hopped over the small enclosure. Behind him he heard a bowstring pulled tight. He didn't need to look back to know why.

The Goblin turned its full attention to him as he approached. The look of lust was gone, replaced one of unbridled fury. It didn't regard any of the others this way.

He turned back to the others, waiting outside the enclosure. “Can I borrow a knife?”

“Are you going to cut this one up?” Jeff asked.

“No. But I don't want touch this thing. Just in case.” He smiled as Verona handed over one of her small metal blades. “It's better to be cautious.”

He took the blade and prodded at the skin near its feet. Not enough for the knife to pierce the skin but enough to make a dent in it. The Goblin spat at him and tried to attack, but the binds held it splayed out over the grass. Anton looked back to the skin. It was still slowly returning to normal. He reached and touched the skin above its foot, the Goblin going into hysterics, and pulled it up. Again it took a very long time for the skin to return to normal.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asked. He had been present for his first examination of the Goblins.

“I think it's dehydrated.” he replied. “I'm pretty sure...” He looked back and saw only two that didn't know that he had his memories from earth. “That I remember that the skin starts to act like this. It looses its ability to...bounce, back when it's getting really thirsty.”

“So...these things get thirsty?” Verona said, her voice trailing off at the end.

“I'm sure that a large city, like Surdon, would have water.” Jeff added. “From a well or something. So...”

Anton said nothing as he moved closer to its head. The Goblin stopped thrashing wildly, almost going completely still, as it looked into his eyes. As he approached it tried to spit at him. All that came out was a dribble. Anton chuckled at its impotency. He rubbed the flat edge of the blade along its tongue, it was completely dry. The Goblin lurched forward, its tongue cutting along the sharp edge as it snapped down. It howled in pain and began thrashing again. Anton stood back up and out of the enclosure. When he was out Verona liquefied her blood and brought it to a small clay pot on her hips, the glowing red draining from her body.

“So?” Jeff asked.

“The Goblin needs water.”

“What?”

“We're trying to figure out how long it'll last without food, not water. You can survive a lot longer without food than water. Even though most people will try and secure food rather than water in a survival situation.” Anton looked back, the Goblin spat out its blood as it continued to thrash about. “And we don't want to have to keep doing this, to keep capturing rather than killing them. It doesn't even look like its' stomach has gone down much. So someone give it some water otherwise we'll just have to get another one of these and repeat this. And I'm not going to heal one of those things.”

Jeff looked at the guards and gave them a nod. One sighed. “I guess I'll get a bucket then.”

As he walked away Kal sighed. “Lack of water makes you do...strange things.”

Verona smiled awkwardly as Anton gave Kal a hug.

“Yeah...” he stroked the back of her head, Kal whimpered and nuzzled into his neck. Kal coughed and freed herself.

“So.” she looked around, her beautiful green Beast-kin eyes finally resting on him. “Are we going to find Jonathan and his children?”

---[]---

Jonathan was waiting for them in the central plaza when they arrived. He looked a little better than earlier, though his two children at his side looked quite exhausted. Six armed villagers stood around them, keeping everyone else at bay. When Jonathan spied them his face lit up.

“Anton...I...I am sorry how about how I acted before. I-”

Anton waved his hands to stop him.

“It's okay, Jonathan. Something....Well.” Anton looked at his children. They were fighting the weariness trying to close their eyes. “Something that none of you were expecting to happen, happened.”

Verona crouched down. “How do you feel now?”

Shawn and Joclyn glanced at each other and shrugged. “Okay.” Joclyn said. “Really tired and sore.”

“I bet.” Verona chuckled. “I was like that after mine happened. It won't last too long.”

“Jonathan.” Anton began. “I would like to, at the very least, show your children how their new magic works. They need to be able to understand what's happening and how to use it. With me gone they'll be the only mages in Atros.”

Jonathan slowly nodded. “I...I understand.”

Anton turned to Jeff. “We're going to get a bit of a baseline practice with both of them. Can I ask you to prepare rations for our trip? As well as a third horse for Kal?”

“Right.” Jeff nodded and slowly frowned. “You three leaving today?”

Anton looked at Verona and Kal. Both looked like they were leaving the option up to him.

“While I would love to stay for longer I, unfortunately, get the feeling we need to keep moving. No matter how tempting it is to stay here.” He glanced between them both, both girls grinning back at him. They did like sleeping, and other things, in a bed. “We're going to need a lot more on our side to deal with threats we don't even know about yet. Like whatever's in that mountain. And the Demons, Goblins and whatever Nithroel's got planned for us. And the sooner we can start to free some Beast-kin, and bring them back here, the better.”

“I would like to see my mother free.” Kal said.

“I would like to see other Beast-kin.” Verona said. She turned to Kal and held both her hands, her eyes were almost sparkling when she looked into Kals'. “You've got to tell us all about the different types.”

“So you can find out which ones are the fluffiest so you can grope their tails...or butts?” Kal raised an aqua eyebrow as a small smirk grew on her face.

“Aww.” Verona pretended to pout. “Don't be like that...”

They both chuckled and smiled at Anton. He gave them both a quick kiss on the forehead and turned back to Jonathan.

“Will we be mages by the time you go?” Shawn asked. Despite his fatigue he was undoubtedly feeling excited by the possibility.

“Um...You might be.” Anton replied with a smile. “But we'll talk about it more when we're somewhere a bit more safe to practice. Here's a bit dangerous.”

Both children nodded furiously, their tiredness completely gone.

Jeff clapped his hands. “I'll get on with those rations you wanted. I'll see you in a bit.”

“Thanks Jeff.” Anton said as Jeff walked off. He turned to Jonathan and his children. “So, let's go and find somewhere private where we can start to practice.

---[]---

Verona sat at the edge of the impromptu training area that Anton had decided upon. It was just to the south of the bone-yard, between that and where the Kobold camp once stood. She brought her knees up underneath her head as she watched Anton speaking to Shawn and Joclyn. Hearing their screams had been quite distressing, not as much as when she had watched her parents die during the first Yellow Goblin assault, but terrible nonetheless. She slapped her face to focus her thoughts.

She could just barely make out what Anton was saying. They were quite some distance away, Anton said it was for safety reasons. He was saying something about how to control the magic that they now held. It sounded completely different to how Verona's worked, there was no flame within them to ignite and making the magic itself sounded different. That meant there was little she could do to help them.

A tiny rustle to her side caught her attention. Kal stood next to her, her bow in her hand with an arrow ready. Verona looked back out and didn't see anything coming towards them. This area was an open and flat grassland with very short grass, to the south it was still recovering after Anton burned down the Kobold camp. It would be difficult for something to sneak up on them.

“Kal?”

“Hmm?” Her captivating green eyes glanced down at her. Seeing them brought warmth to her heart.

Verona was extremely happy that they were all together. Thinking back over what things that had been said there were a lot of hints that Kal harboured feelings for Anton. At first, when she realised Kal's feelings, she thought she should have been jealous. Strangely she only felt happy. Was that normal? It didn't matter. They were all happy together.

The only thing that she was annoyed about was that Anton had already seen and touched that gorgeous giant tail of hers before she could. Even now it swayed lightly in the breeze, threatening to hypnotise her with every tiny moment of the dark green limb.

Verona coughed as she rubbed her legs. “You can relax a little. Nobody's going to attack us here.”

Kal raised a dark aqua brow. “Even a single Goblin? You can't be too careful in the wilds.”

“Is something coming?”

“No.” Kal shook her head. “But you don't live long by not keeping an eye on your surrounding.”

She's right. I shouldn't get lazy or think that my magic can always protect me. That special Yellow Goblin had an armour that stopped my magic. What if someone wore a proper suit of that? Or I lose my magic? I'll be a worse fighter than someone with a just a pointy stick...

Verona sprang to her feet and looked at Kal. Kal jumped back lightly in surprise, a frown forming on her beautiful brown face.

“Alright then. Tell me. Tell me what I need to keep a look out for.”

“What?” Kal frowned, a tiny blush coming to her face. “What do you mean?”

“Teach me!” Verona exclaimed. “I should learn those sort of things from you. You're the best at this. I'm sure you can teach me something while Anton's teaching them.”

Kal's ears twitched back in surprise, a smile slowly forming on her face. The flush grew even brighter as Verona let out a wide grin. She liked to see Kal happy like this, and she knew why Anton loved to see that flushed brown face all the time.

“Okay. First-”

“What is happening?” A voice came from Verona's other side.

Jonathan sat on the grass, his body perfectly still. Ever since finding out that both his children now had powers that he had been behaving very odd. Not that it was an unreasonable reaction. Verona sat back down while Kal returned to her scouting.

“I do not know what to do.” Jonathan said, looking down at the grass between his legs.

Verona looked up. Joclyn had a small dancing bolt of lightning floating over her hand. It crackled and shook violently, like it was trying to escape. Slowly it dissipated until she brought it back. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Shawn was struggling a little more with the flame, he frowned as sparks danced in his hand. Anton was darting between the two, offering words of encouragement.

“What do you mean?” Verona asked. “You're kids are doing fine.”

Shawn yelled out in joy as the flame steadied itself on his hand. Anton seemed quite proud of him. Verona felt a pang of jealousy that they couldn't train together like that. Could Anton get another power? She highly doubted it.

“Not...Not that. I thought that the things that are happening to you, and Anton, would not happen to me.” He started to pick at the grass lazily. “Or my children. I...”

Verona frowned. The words coming out of his mouth were very odd. In all the time she had known him he hadn't spoken like this, not even when his wife died.

“They are the only things left of my wife. The only proof that she lived. I do not want to lose them.”

Something clicked in the back of Verona's mind. She wasn't sure if it was true but there was only one way to figure it out.

“Are...Are you worried that Anton's going to train and use them as soldiers?” she asked, seeing the tinge of worry on his face. “That he's going to take both with him to the far ends of the world?”

Jonathan hung his head low, a deep sadness on his face.

Does he genuinely think that Anton would do something like that? He should know that Anton would only have their well being in his heart.

Verona frowned again.

Or does he? The two 'odd' people here that aren't Anton, myself and Kal, both followed him...for different, no, the same reasons. But, we still left Atros for a long time. And we've fought and killed things that nobody else here could even begin to understand...Is that it?

“He's not going to take them.” Verona said defiantly. Jonathan looked up at her, his face unreadable. “He's not going to take your children with him to Graterious and beyond and away from you.”

“I...I know that. But, when I saw them screaming their hearts out I had never been so scared before. Not when my legs were rotting or when the Goblin or Kobold hordes descended upon us. But...that made me afraid.”

Verona smiled as warmly as she could. “Shawn and Joclyn won't be coming with us. They'll be staying with you. Safe, in Atros.”

“But...They are so different from me now. I am just-”

“Jonathan. You're still their father. And they'll love you no matter what. All this means is that they'll have to spend a little time practising their magic. That's all. When I got my magic it didn't change who I am. The same goes for them. They'll still want to be with you, like they've always been.”

“That is...I thought they would always be safe in our village. Does this mean that they do not want to be smiths anymore?”

“No.” Verona replied, getting a strange look from Jonathan. “I don't think so. But...you should still have a talk with them about it regardless. I've learned that a lot of things can be solved by just talking things through.”

Jonathan caught Verona looking up at Kal. “Right.” Jonathan looked the tiniest bit happier.

Joclyn cried out as a small lightning ball flew around her head. Anton raised both hands, as if he was going to catch it. Could he touch someone else's magic if it was the same type?

“They look like they're doing well.” Kal said. Verona saw the tiniest hint of jealously on her face.

“Are you jealous that Anton's teaching them or they've got powers?”

Kal flushed and turned her face away. “A little of both.”

Verona suppressed a squeal of joy as she stood up, readying both hands to lunge at Kal. “That's why you're so damn cute!”

Verona moved in for a hug but Kal was faster than her. Her dive was dogged effortlessly by Kal, who took just a step to the side as Verona continued and nearly fell over. Verona laughed and started to chase Kal in a circle. She fended off her lunges and hugs for some time but her face was always beaming back with a smile. A smile that so few people got to see. Finally Verona caught Kal, though she was sure that Kal let her, and gave her a giant hug.

“There. That wasn't so bad, was it?” Verona laughed at Kal.

Kal groaned and ruffled Verona's hair. Verona caught Jonathan suppressing a smile as he watched them run and play around him.

Verona looked over at Anton. Both children had stopped practising their magic and were listening intently to something he was whispering to them. He gave them a final pat of the head and sent both towards their father.

“Dad!” Shawn cried out as they ran towards them. “Did you see us?”

“Y-Yeah.” Jonathan stood up to embrace his charging son. “That was something.”

Shawn jumped up at the last moment, his body colliding with his chest. The impact let out a terrifying smack as Jonathan stumbled back a step. Shawn kept his hold on his father as he let him down. Joclyn came up quickly behind, pushing her brother over so she could hold her father as well. A few tears welled up his eyes as he hugged them both back.

“That was so much fun.” Shawn said, a laugh escaping his lips. “I can control fire and Joclyn makes everything go zap and bang.”

“Anton called it lightning.” Joclyn corrected her brother, her face contorted in a strange frown as she spoke in her normal cold voice.

“Whatever. I still think it's awesome.” To that both children smiled. “So, do we get back to working on the forge now?”

“What?” Jonathan seemed astonished.

Shawn and Joclyn freed themselves from his grasp and cocked their heads.

“Anton said that we need to keep doing what we like. So...” Shawn frowned. “Are we not doing it today?”

Joclyn nodded as well. Jonathan chuckled and scratched his head as he saw Anton slowly approach.

“Umm...Yeah. If you are not too tired.”

They both shook their heads.

“Nope.”

“We feel fine.”

Jonathan smiled even more. His faced changed a little when he saw Anton.

“They're doing very well.” Anton said, scratching his head. “I think. I'm not really a teacher of magic, so I'm going off what little I've been able to figure out during my time here, but they seem to be understanding it pretty well. I think they'll be pretty strong given some time.”

Jonathan nodded. He still looked a little nervous about the change in his children.

“But, I have told them that they are to only practice a little each day. They...They've had a few ideas about things that I couldn't ever do.”

“Oh?” Verona asked.

“Well.” Anton turned to her. “You remember how I could feel my way through you through my magic?”

“Yeah...” Verona chuckled. “That felt really weird. Like water running underneath my skin.”

“They suggested working their magics into their metal work. So that their works can take on aspects of fire or lightning. What that'll be, I don't know. I haven't tried it yet.”

“I've never heard of that being possible.” Kal frowned at Anton. “Could...Could it be done?”

“I honestly don't know. I'm able to change some things with the prayer power. But I'm thinking that, if it was possible, that it would be done when making making the object. You know, blending them together. Or something.”

Anton did not sound very confident at the end.

“And what are you basing this on?” Jonathan asked. “Have you seen it done before?”

Anton held out a knife, the one that Verona had given him to prod the Green Goblin. He hadn't given it back to her after he was done.

“When I was walking over I tried to pour some lightning magic into this. And it just sort of bounced off. The same with the fire magic. It didn't take and hold. I don't think those can enter an object...Well, fire did...”

“What happened then?” Kal asked.

Anton just shook his head. Verona remembered when he was stabbed by that woman, and what happened afterwards. The others didn't. And it should probably stay that way.

“You think that it could work when it is being made?” Jonathan asked. “I do not know if magic could work like that...”

“Neither do I. But, there's only one way to find out. And I'm no smith and don't have the time or skill to learn.” Anton frowned and looked far to the north, past Mount Aspire looming in the distance. “Perhaps the Deweth Clans might know something about using the magics of the Old Gods. Same too with Graterious. All the more reason to go soon.”

“Why not use the prayer power, thing?” Verona said, a frown forming on her face. “You used that to change Kal...back to boobs and ears...”

Kal and Anton flushed at her words. Anton coughed to focus himself. “That was...restoring Kal to the way she was supposed to be. Adding something like that might be beyond my skill. Besides, it took a huge part of my magic just to make a spoon of out wood. If I were to try that it might just knock me flat.”

Verona hummed. She didn't really understand why one of Anton's magic used so much more than the others, when the effects were noticeably less for using considerably more magic. They were missing something. All the more reason to head to Graterious, or the Deweth Clans, where they might find some books on it. Maybe even ones about her own power, and how to control her power's side effects.

“Shame.” Verona folded her arms.

“Although, I am excited about getting a magic forge up and running. I wonder if anyone else has something like this. I got the feeling that Qaiviel certainly doesn't.”

“I am still having trouble making your strange designs.” Jonathan said. “Though, it is getting easier. There is not much more for me to show you. I do not want to test them when you are not here.”

“That reminds me to find the place where that blue powder is made.” Anton rubbed his short beard. “Dragon's Breath, they called it. We're going to need quite a bit of it.”

“Something's coming from the south.” Kal said.

Everyone's eyes followed her pointing. Verona knew that Kal had far greater eyesight than any of them there. Anton blinked dramatically, and his eyes seemed to pierce through anything. He had just used the prayer power that let him see incredible distances. How she wished for that power.

“It looks like a bunch of large rabbits...Those Thumper things.”

“Oh yes.” Verona smiled as she remembered her fighting the large Alpha Thumper. “I thought the Kobolds would have killed them.” She tuned to Kal. “Do those things follow Nithroel?”

Kal hesitated before shaking her head. “I don't think so. They're not as intelligent as a Kobold or a Goblin. They're just animals, so I don't think so.”

“If it is, then Nithroel has just broken her side of the agreement.” Anton said. “But I don't think she's going to break it like this. She'll try and get us to do it. That way there's no consequences for her. How she'll get us to do that, I don't know.”

Meeting Nithroel, the Goddess of the Forest, was not something she wanted to remember, especially since she met her own Goddess at the time. But she made a note not to forget the woman they were going against. Verona was no great reader of people yet but she knew Anton was right. They would have to face down Nithroel one day, and she wouldn't just let them get infinitely stronger before they finally fight. Another reason to keep gathering people and support. Anton had certainly thought of that but didn't want to remind everyone that they were the enemy of the most powerful goddess.

“Alright.” Anton clapped his hands, Verona raising a brow at him. “Remember what I told you?”

Shawn and Joclyn nodded. “Don't use magic to fight with unless you need to.”

“Right.” Anton ruffled their hair. “But don't hesitate to use it if you need to. While we're gone you two are the only mages in Atros, so I have to ask you both to help defend the city if something happens.”

Both nodded furiously, their eyes beaming with pride and joy.

Anton smiled.“You've got some good kids, Jonathan.”

That made the slightly weary smithy perk up. “Thanks.”

“Let's get some lunch into us.” Anton started to walk away. “I think we'll need to start heading off pretty soon.”

---[]---

Anton felt that lunch was the normal affair with the village regarding everyone at the council table, especially Kal, Joclyn and Shawn, with some suspicion. Both children asking why Kal's hands were so radically different to everyone else’s, covered in fur and soft pads on the inside, nearly caused some issues, but it was solved before it became serious. Kal was very understanding and explained to the children the reason why. It wasn't malicious but genuine curiosity. They were also allowed to touch Kal's tail, for a few moments. That seemed to only bring out more questions from the pair. There appeared to be no hint of exhaustion in either of them.

Despite the disturbance earlier in the morning more people were taking time to pray at the idols of the gods. Anton pulled a passing guard to the side and asked why. Despite the concerns around pain many had been able to see their practice from the wall and surroundings, and had seen what the two children, despite only getting their powers a few hours earlier, were already capable of. It seemed that the reward outweighed the risk. Anton didn't mind, so long as the gods got their power from the worship, and that it didn't end up killing the people when they received it.

With lunch done, and the equipment loaded onto the three horses; their food, the red and silver crystal and rough copies of the maps of the Kar Kingdom and the Graterious and Seocurian Empire, they were almost ready to go. Anton received two old dip pens from Sybil and performed the same prayer magic on it as the previous set. He took one and gave the other to Sybil and Bertram. Both would be kept in a special room always monitored by someone they trusted for messages from him or Duchess Belinda.

They also decided to bring with them a few emerald and ruby gems and quite a few gold coins, more than enough to see them through their adventures until they returned. Anton had it distributed between them so a thief wouldn't be able to get it all at once, Kal pointed out good places on their clothes to hide them. They had more than a small fortune hidden on them, and the stores in Atros still had crates filled with gold coins. Though Anton knew that supply wouldn't last forever, especially when they started to buy and free Beast-kin slaves on a large scale. Getting a proper and reliable income stream, one not subject to the whims of nobles and lords, was another thing they would have to do in Graterious.

Anton, Verona and Kal came to the decision to leave then. There was not much else they could do in Atros, and so much to do elsewhere. Everyone on the council had gathered on the far eastern gate. Anton, Verona and Kal were already riding their horses and they were eager to go. However they had to say their goodbye's properly.

“I know that we've barely been here a day.” Anton began. “But we're got to keep moving.”

“We were hoping to have you for a few more days at the very least.” Sybil said. “It would be nice to see you from time to time. The people that so many people rely on.”

Anton smiled bitterly. “Unfortunately, we're on a time limit now.” He glanced to Kal. “About more things than one.”

It was something that was bubbling in the back of his mind but he didn't want to say aloud. Anton knew that if Kal was in her late twenties or early thirties, that meant her mother would have to be in her late forties at the very least. And slaves, in a harsh place that Seocuria sounded to be, wouldn't last into what he would call retirement age. They would be retired early.

“Well.” Avery said. “We wish you luck. If you find someone that makes bows...”

“We'll be sure to try and recruit them. If you think of anything that you might need, don't forget to use the pen.”

“When could we do that?” Jeff asked. “So that we get you when you're not riding?”

“We'll be making camp at dusk.” Anton glanced at Kal, who nodded.

He saw the white and green mask at the side of her head. He wondered what the people of Graterious, and indeed Seocuria, would think of her completely wrapped up in cloth and wearing that mask. They would need to get her some gloves and special boots before they headed into Seocuria.

Anton shook his head and focused himself. “So if you want to communicate with us it's at dusk. The pens' end will light up if you can't write because we can't receive it. Oh, and Raston?”

“Yes?” He seemed happier knowing that Qaiviel and Maxill was still standing, but not so much about having to travel through a wolf filled forest. Still, he wound have quite a number of well armed guards so there wasn't too much to worry about.

“Can you make sure that you find the Yellow Goblin Commander's remains and bring it with you? We've got them in special jars, and we'll need them to try and trade them for some books about magic from the Duchess. We're needing them now so much more than we did before.”

Raston nodded. Jeff moved towards him and whispered in his ear.

“We'll be back soon.” Verona said, even though they knew it was a bit of a stretch. “And if things go well, we'll have a whole bunch more Beast-kin with us. And full ones, not like Kal. It'll be an exciting time.”

He caught Kal looking a little more confident. Verona glanced as well before turning to Dennis.

“That means there might be some issues with people not liking them based on their appearance. That's where you come in. Right, Dennis?”

Verona stared through him. Dennis nodded furiously at her question.

“I will.” he spoke with some confidence. “I'll do my best when you return.”

Verona nodded.

“Good luck everyone.” Anton said. “Please don't try and disturb the beasts and monsters of the land too much. Though, you do have another two mages with you now.” He caught the eye of Shawn and Joclyn, both beaming back at him. “Make sure you take good care of your father.”

“We will!” they said in unison.

“We'll be back as soon as we can.”

“Good luck!” Sam cried out. “Be back before I have the baby!”

Anton laughed and they all waved back as they whipped the reins and set off at a brisk pace. The cheers and goodbyes continued well into the distance.

When they stopped at Verona's practice ground Anton glanced back and saw the gate was already closing with everyone returning to their jobs. Out the corner of his eye he noticed that Kal was acting a little odd. She was looking towards the small ridge line with the forest, the same one that she said that she kept her goods before coming to Atros. She took a deep breath before looking straight at him.

“Anton.” she began. “I told you before that I had something else to tell you. Other than me...taking the green crystal?”

“Yes. You said you didn't want to say it in Nonbu'rn.”

Kal nodded. “Yeah. Well, I think it would be best to just show you. If it's still there.”

Kal whipped the reins of the horses towards the ridge, Anton and Verona having little choice but to follow. When Kal arrived at the ridge she dismounted, nocked her bow, and slowly advanced into the forest. She stopped when she arrived before a small hole in the ground. If anything it looked like a mouth had opened up in the ground.

“This is where you lived?” Anton asked. The cave looked slightly damp and musty. To live in a place like this...

Kal nodded. “This is a lot better than quite a few places that I've had to camp in. And compared to just sleeping outside in the rain.”

Verona hummed but refused to say anything more. Kal drew back on her bow and led them down a rocky pathway. A few loose stones slipped out from underneath his feet. He saw Kal make a reflexive move for Anton as he stumbled a little, but he corrected himself before he fell. At the bottom the cave opened up into a small cavern. Anton lit a small fireball and pushed it forward so they could see. About five Green Goblin corpses littered the room. The corpses were dried and desiccated husks, deep cuts evident on their leathery skin. But that wasn't the interesting thing.

In the center of the room lay a strange dried purple piece of flesh. It didn't look like normal skin, if anything it looked like part of a snake. And lying against the wall were three human bodies. Many were wounded while one, a woman, looked to be relatively intact. But their skin, half rotted and dried out, was dark. Far darker than anything had seen before in the world, and Kal with her tanned skin, was the darkest he had seen so far. They looked like they had come from the most remote parts of Africa.

“What's this?” Verona asked.

“This is the other thing that I wanted to tell you about.” Kal said quietly. She pursed her lips as she pointed to the dark person in the corner, the one woman that was still in one piece. “That woman is from Seocuria. You can tell by their dark skin colour. Her name was Farida.”

“Seocuria's meant to be hundreds of miles away.” Anton began. “What are they doing out here?”

There was a good reason why they would travel so far. Kal played with her ear as she looked at the dead bodies. Finally she took a deep breath and spoke.

“They were hunting me. There's a bounty on me being brought back to Seocuria.” Kal became very nervous as she looked at him, a twitch in her hands and eyes. “Three hundred gold coins.”

“Wow.” Anton said, glancing back towards the exit. “No wonder they wanted you.”

Kal smiled bitterly. “Yeah. They had found out I was in Graterious and hunted me. I found out that they were only a few days behind me at a few places.”

Anton looked at the dead body of the Seocurian woman. While she had some deep and rough wounds, clearly from something clumsy that one of the Green Goblin's weapons, one mark, underneath her neck, was clearly made by a sharp blade. And the Green Goblins barely used anything more complicated than a crudely sharpened wooden stick.

“How?” Verona asked. “I don't think it would be easy to track someone like you. You barely make a sound when you move...”

Kal pointed to the purple scaled flesh. “That's all that remained of a Cobra Beast-kin. They can taste the air and follow scents. They used that poor Beast-kin to follow me.”

“They're like a snake?” Anton asked. “They...lick, at the air?”

“Yeah. So they were able to follow the smell that was coming off my clothes. When I left for Atros...They turned up here some time later. And were ambushed by a group of Green Goblins and brought here. They killed and started to eat the men and use the woman to breed more. Then I found them when you were doing your training and...”

“How'd they make it this far if they could be killed by a few Green Goblins?” Verona asked.

Kal chuckled. “I asked the same thing. It seems they got lucky, but they lost quite a few of their group while they were chasing me.” Kal folded her arms. “I don't know where they got the bounty poster of me...I burnt it...I...Anyway, there are bounty posters of me somewhere. Pretty good ones. So, if I'm found out...”

“That won't happen.” Anton said, Verona nodding as well. “We'll make sure of it.”

Kal smiled, an honest smile. “Thanks. They were trying to sign up with a mercenary company in Graterious. I think it was called the...the Red Company. They were going to use my bounty to fund their entry into the company. I think that's where they found the bounties about me.”

“We'll make sure to stay well clear of them. Thanks for the heads up.”

“I just wanted to tell you.” Kal said, making for the exit. “But I don't want to hang around here any more than I have to. Thinking that people want me for gold makes me feel sick.”

“We're never going to let them take you there.” Anton said, brining her in for a deep kiss. When they parted Kal flushed and nodded furiously, bringing both hands close to her chest.

“Onward to Graterious then!” Verona pumped her fist into the air, leading them back into the light.

Chapter 070. Vol 3 - Hints and Whispers

Chapter 070:

After leaving the small ridge Anton, Verona and Kal continued east through the grasslands in near silence. Kal made it very clear that the most important thing when travelling was to remain completely quiet and not stand out, to not attract attention in the first place. That was a little hard as they were the only people travelling this far east of Atros, over the empty grasslands on the high backs of horses. While there were other large creatures roaming and foraging in the grasslands; wild Ix and horses, the brightly coloured birds racing about, and herds of Razor-Pigs, there wasn't anything else sentient moving about. What Anton was most worried about was stumbling upon a group of Goblins hidden in the relatively long grass, not that they couldn't deal with them.

They followed a patch of shorter grass, seemingly following an old road east. Anton looked down and saw the grass desperately trying to grow through many flat stones almost completely buried and consumed by the dirt. Verona saw him looking and stared down as well.

“I didn't know there was a road here.” Verona looked up, her eyes trailing along the short grass path cutting through the rolling grasslands. “Though it's pretty obvious now that we're in it. Of course the Kar Kingdom had roads. I just thought that they would have been gone by now.” Verona turned to Kal. “Should we be following the roads?”

Kal shrugged. “These aren't really roads. Not any more. But...I suppose they might be a little safer. Or not. There's really no difference.”

Kal brought her horse to a stop, Anton and Verona following.

“What do you see?” Anton asked. Kal wasn't the kind of person to stop for no reason.

“Goblins, Green Goblins moving through the grass.” She pointed her Beast-kin hand to the North East. “About ten, maybe more.”

“A scouting party?” Verona asked. “Or are they just those outcasts...like the ones in that cave?”

“I think they'll be outcasts, but they'll still try and attack when they see us.”

“They've got pretty poor eyesight.” Anton said. “We'll just keep an eye on them as we pass. If we have to fight we'll annihilate them in an instant. They aren't going to stop us from getting to Seocuria.”

Both girls nodded as they continued to ride. At the speed both groups were travelling they would soon meet. Anton readied some lightning magic as they got closer.

“Can...” Kal said quietly, catching their attention. She took a deep breath and looked at him and spoke with more confidence. “Can I use my bow? I haven't had the chance to use it yet.”

Anton nodded, leaving the lightning bolt magic to continue bubble away inside him just in case. Kal smiled, a hint of her canine teeth showing, as she readied her bow. The white bow flexed easily in her hands as she pulled back the bow. She made it look effortless as she pulled it back to its full length without a grunt or any visible sign of exertion.

Kal trained it on the Green Goblin at the back of the pack and fired. It barely made a sound as the arrow soared through the air, striking the Goblin in the neck. The limp body sprayed blood over the grass as it fell to the side. Only when it hit the ground did the others notice. A screech, in whatever language they used, rang out as they searched desperately for the attacker. Kal didn't wait and unleashed another arrow. Another five fell before they realised where the arrows were coming from. Their eyes strained to see them approaching on horse back. The moment they realised what it was they screamed and ran towards them to attack, broken branches their only weapons and a tatty piece of fur to barely cover their groins.

Anton let loose a few lightning bolts, each finding a target before they even made a few meters. Kal finished off the remaining Goblins before they even got close enough to consider being a threat.

“That was fun.” Verona hummed. She didn't even look at the dead Goblins as they passed.

“Wait.” Kal brought her horse to a halt. “I need to get my arrows back. Unlike you two I can't just use magic to fight.”

“Yeah.” Verona turned to Anton. “When is Kal going to get some magic?”

Kal ripped out an arrow from a dead Goblin. She smiled back at them. “After seeing what happened to those children, Shawn and Joclyn, I'm not so sure I want that sort of magic. Maybe something like that Orc had...”

Verona chuckled as Kal recovered her last arrow. “It's not that bad. Afterwards...”

Kal sighed and shook her head. Her ears shot up. Something spooked her, she stooped low and readied her bow, pointing it north. Verona readied her spear while Anton prepared his magic. Kal scanned the grass but said nothing

A green head emerged from the grass, another Goblin. There was more to the group than the dozen they had just killed. Kal struck it in the head, its body falling back limp. Anton was impressed at her accuracy and speed.

“How many are there?” Verona asked, looking to Anton.

Something else rustled through the grass away from them, moving very fast. Kal loosed another arrow. It sunk into flesh and a scream erupted. A wounded Green Goblins stood and received another arrow in the face.

“I thought I got them all.” Kal grumbled, advancing slowly on the dead Goblins.

Anton looked into the distance. At the edge of his natural vision a snow capped mountain range loomed, the natural border between Atros and the Deweth Clans, now somewhat less of a barrier with the Clans and the Wrath of Doom alliance and allowing free passage. Before that lay a large hill. It was nothing compared to Mount Aspire, still just visible in the distance, but it was still pretty big. A perfect place for Goblins to hide and nest in.

Anton looked at the path that the last Goblin was taking, Kal marked the spot with her body as she wrenched the last arrow free. Verona sidled alongside him and followed his sight.

“You think they were running back to the mountain.” she said. “It ran straight, not away from us but towards there.”

Kal nodded as she returned, her Beast-kin ears being so much more sensitive to sound than their own. “It seems that it was heading towards that hill. I'm pretty sure that's where the Green Goblins came from that I found in that cave.”

Verona clapped her hands. “Well, it'll be something to tell everyone else when we make camp for the night. See how far that magic pen of yours works.”

Anton smiled and ruffled her hair, Verona letting out a mewl in response. Kal mounted her horse in a swift bounce. She looked a little annoyed that she hadn't gotten a reward yet. When she moved close he did the same thing, Kal laughed as her ears pulled back and her face flushed lightly.

“Okay. Enough of that.” Kal said, fighting down the flush. “We need to keep moving as fast as we can.”

They travelled quickly for the rest of the day, their horses moving at a brisk pace that wouldn't wear them out. As the sun began to set they made camp underneath a solitary and very lonely looking tree just a few meters off the old road. It didn't look like anything he had seen before, something like an oak. Whatever it was it was very old.

As they tied their horses reins to the tree, he spied a marking engraved into the wood. The mark was old and cut deeply into the tree. It was a heart, with the letters U and I engraved in the middle.

“Was this one a lovers meeting point?” Anton asked aloud.

Verona, rummaging through their packs for the sleeping gear, stopped and came over.

“Huh...Does that mean that there's a city nearby?” She shook her head. “They would have been dead for a long time by now. And I doubt there's anything for us to take.”

“Still.” Anton patted Verona, who looked up at him oddly. “At least there are still some relics showing that once people lived and played here. Nithroel said that there was meant to be about a thousand more people within the old kingdom. But not here...”

Verona looked around. Everything was basically flat grasslands, the dimming light preventing them from seeing too far into the distance. If there were any remains of cities, towns or villages, they had been weathered down to nothing.

“Come on.” Verona gently held his hand as she led him back to their horses. “We've got a bit to do before we settle down for the night.” She giggled as she looked up. “Another night together underneath the stars...”

As Verona rolled out the sleeping gear and a basic skin tent, Anton set to collecting some firewood from around the oak tree and getting a fire started while Kal did a quick search around the perimeter to make sure they were safe. It took some time for her to return. When she came back, carrying something like a large rabbit over her shoulder, Anton and Verona were quite surprised.

Kal picked up on that, her ears pulling back as she blushed lightly. “I thought you might want something fresh to eat. This one got a little close, so...”

“We didn't even hear you using the bow.” Anton said. “Or it crying out.”

Kal chuckled, placing down the dead rabbit next to Anton and resting her head against his shoulder. “I've become much better after I was healed. All the pains and broken bones I've suffered over the...” she looked up at Anton, a tiny frown on her face. “Years? Is that what you would call a winter?”

Anton nodded.

“Well those aren't hurting anymore. It's so much easier to move about now.”

“That's good to know.” Verona crashed into Kal, both girls mewling as Anton gave them both a big squeeze.

“You know how to skin an animal?” Anton asked Kal. “I only know how to prepare fish. And even that's...”

Verona grumbled as she grabbed his hand tight, Kal looked between them confused. Thinking about that gave him the strange scratched out memories as before, followed quickly by a rapid heart. He forced himself to think about something else before it went any further.

“I do.” Kal said, her voice wavering as she looked between them. “We weren't given much in the way of prepared food in Seocuria. My...My mother taught me.”

Verona picked herself up, sitting on her knees as she stared intently at Kal. “You haven't told us what your mother's name is, or what she looks like.” She glanced up at Anton. “Seems that the people I love have a habit of doing that.”

Kal frowned and raised up her hands. “Well. From what I remember, she's got the same coloured fur as me, so a dark aqua. It's just that she won't have any human...parts, to her body.” Kal rolled up her shirt to show her toned stomach. “So these parts will be covered with fur. Everywhere, even her face. Though those areas will be very short.”

Anton nodded. “So they've got lots of fur...Won't they be fully clothed?”

Kal shook her head. “Not...All of them.” she sighed. “They didn't give us much to wear. The males wear just pants while the females get pants and a shirt.”

“Does your mother have anything...special about her?” Anton asked, caressing Kal's head as she leaned into his chest. “Like you had your...missing ear.”

Kal scratched at her long furred ear. While the flesh may have healed, the memories of whatever caused it was not.

“She...She has a few deep scars on both her arms, just a straight line, and a big one over her belly button.” Kal pouted. “I'm...I'm sorry that I can't give a better description of her. It was so long ago.”

“It's fine.” Verona patted Kal's head. “But now we know roughly what we need to look for. If we see someone that matches that we'll let you know...I don't know how to ask this but are dark aqua feline Beast-kin rare or common? ”

Anton felt Kal lurch forward at hearing the word feline, but restrained herself from sprouting her number.

“My colour is pretty rare among...my kind. So, that should help.”

“But then there's the last thing.” Anton said. “What's her name?”

Kal took another deep breath. “I don't remember the number she was given, but I always called her Marion.”

“Marion...” Anton nodded and patted Kal's head again. “We'll find her. Now we've got a name, what she looks like and roughly where she is.”

“Maybe some of the other Beast-kin that you knew might know where she is if we can't find her right away.” Verona offered.

Kal smiled and nodded. “Thanks...This is really happening...”

She brushed herself off as she stood back up. “But, that's not going to be happening for a little bit. Right now I need to get this animal skinned so we've got some fresh meat to eat.”

“Let me help you.” Anton and Verona said in unison.

Kal smiled. “Thank you, Anton. But I'll just get Verona to help tonight. She said before she wants to learn what little I have to teach. You've got that magical pen thing of yours to deal with. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Right.”

Anton hopped up himself, giving Verona and Kal a quick kiss, and made for the pack on his horse. He pulled out the linked pen to Atros and a large spare piece of paper. When he returned Kal already had her knife out and was skinning the rabbit, Verona watching intently like a student learning from a master. Kal kept glancing around and directed Verona to do the same thing. She was teaching her to keep a constant awareness of her surroundings as well. Anton checked around the tree and when he couldn't see anything he sat down, back against the tree, and readied to write with the pen.

He didn't know who was meant to be on the other end. They hadn't really stipulated who it was, other than it was to be manned at all times. However he didn't know what to say. This was probably the first time something like this had been done in some time, quite possibly in the world.

Hello, this is Anton. Are you getting this?

It was a little anti-climatic for the first message but it would have to do. Perhaps the history books would be able to say something more grand and profound. He placed the pen down and waited. As there was no resistance he guessed, hoped, that the message had gone through.

In the distance Verona squealed, and Kal chuckled, as they slowly skinned and gutted the rabbit. It was taking a while but Kal was being a very patient teacher, showing her exactly where and why to put the knife. It was nice to see them having some fun together. Even if it was gutting an animal.

As Anton looked back down the pen started moving.

Hey Anton. It's Jeff and Bertram here. It's good to know that this is working. How are you going and where are you?

We're currently camped underneath an oak tree, following the road heading east. It could take us about a week to get to the border at our current rate.

Anton immediately realised that Jeff and Bertram might have no idea what a week was.

What's a week?

Seven days. We believe we've found a local Green Goblin nest, one that you should still keep clear off.

Dana will be glad so she doesn't have to send her riders beyond the sight of Atros anymore to try and find it. Where is it?

A small hill to the east of Mount Aspire. We don't know how many Goblins there are inside but I'm sure that's where the recently spotted ones have come from. How are things in Atros? Are Shawn and Joclyn okay with their new powers?

It took some time for the pen to start writing again.

They are doing okay and so is Jonathan. However some people are still afraid of what happened. While others pray fanatically to get the power. Some of it is a little worrying.

Anton hummed. Fanatics were not something that he wanted, especially if they turn to strange or even vile means to try and get the blessings of the Olds Gods. He remembered stories about those trying to gain power by literally taking it from another. Even if it meant killing them. A mind warped by greed could certainly hurt two children when the supposed reward was power such as he seemingly effortlessly wielded.

Tell them that hard work and devotion to others is what attracts the gods' blessings. Definitely say it was from me and those that develop any glyphs are under my protection and guidance. That should be enough to keep them at bay and working hard.

Hopefully.

We'll give it a go. Apart from that everything's peaceful. Raston seemed hesitant to go through the forest but he eventually folded. Jonathan's doing well on you project too. Says that by the time you get back it should be ready for another test. Zac's doing well on building and we're all working on making a brewery to sell alcohol to Maxill. That's going to take some time though.

That's very good to hear. We're going to go to sleep soon and continue as soon as it's light. Good luck with everything.

You too. Say hi to Verona and Kal for us.

Something akin to a smiley face followed, then the pen lay down for the last time. Anton smiled and wrapped up the papers and put it back into the saddle pack. When he returned the girls had finished skinning the animal and were spearing the meat onto thin pieces of wood, roasting them over the fire. Anton pulled out a few of their packed supplies, some long lasting fruits and nuts to be added to the meal. It seemed that Jeff had put in a few wooden plates. He would thank him the next time he wrote to him.

“Hey.” Verona said, waving him over as they rammed the sticks into the dirt so they would hold the meat over the fire. “How'd it go?”

“Good.” Anton handed over the plates with a smattering of the fruits and nuts. “They got the messages clearly. They're glad to know about the possible Green Goblin nest in that hill. But...”

The girls frowned in worry at him.

“They are worried about Shawn and Joclyn. Seeing someone else get powers that aren't...” Anton smiled bitterly at Verona. “Initially frighting, they'll certainly covert it. Some have been acting a little odd.”

Verona nodded. “I can see that. But since you're not...Yeah. I see what you're getting at. You're not there to remind them of your power, I'm not there, and Shawn and Joclyn are people from the village, not someone that dropped down from the heavens.”

Kal chuckled as she rotated the meat.

“So...What can they do?”

“Do their best to keep away from any fanatics if they appear, as well as tell them that the only way to get the God's blessings is to do good things.” Anton shrugged. “I have no idea if that's true but it'll hopefully keep  them from doing something stupid. That and they're under my protection. They don't want to be burned or electrocuted to death.”

Kal sighed. “I would say that people wouldn't hurt children...” she trailed off at the end. Anton gave her leg a squeeze.

“They're keeping a close eye on the kids.” Anton said. “And I've told both of them to defend themselves if necessary. They can both use magic like I can, so they can just summon a fire or lighting bomb to fend for themselves. One of those would easily kill a man or woman. I think that should be enough.”

“Actually.” Kal began. “Anton, Verona, how do you use your magic? You don't need whatever that Orc, Zig, used or what Duchess Belinda showed you...Alone.” Kal emphasised the last word, a pain burst out from his other side, which he ignored. “But, how do you do it? You know, just in case I get one.”

“Well.” Verona stretched out her limbs. “I think that mine's a little different to everyone else's. I have to...light something within me before I can use my power. Then it feels like I'm controlling an extension of my body. It's a bit hard to explain.”

Verona's body flickered red. “See, if I don't...glow like that I can't control the blood. But only blood that I release with a weapon that's etched into my back.”

Verona raised her shirt and showed Kal. In the center of the blood tear drop was an image of a spear. She picked up a knife, a tiny shiver ran through her body and the image changed to the knife.

“So, I can only use the blood that's released by that weapons, or released by my blood.” Verona tried to look at her back. “Though I can't see it, so I don't know why it's there.”

“Okay.” Kal frowned and nodded in deep thought. “So...”

“Well, for the lightning and fire power I form the magic into a shape, a ball for one of those bombs and a ring for the flame pillars and lightning disks. Anyway, after forming it I release it and then it happens.”

“So that's what you were teaching them?”

Anton nodded. “Yeah. Just the basics. I don't understand much about it still. I had to get help from Esperit to find out about the ring pillars.”

“That was the one that-”

“Yes. The one that lent her breasts on your head.”

Verona grumbled and shook her head while Kal looked on confused. She had no idea what either of them were talking about.

“But the prayer power seems different again.” Anton continued. “I don't really form a shape with my mana. I just recite a prayer in my head and then it does what I asked it, if it can be done. Though it uses quite a bit of magic to do anything. You saw how much it took out of me to heal you back to full health.”

Kal nodded. She remembered him falling over once his mana was essentially depleted.

“So it can do anything?” she asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think it can. But it uses so much more mana than the other two. You remember all those linked flame pillars at the Gravestone? That used about the same amount of mana that I would use to create two wooden spoons.”

“I remember that...” Verona pinched down hard on his leg again. “Kal told me quite a few things that you did for her. When we weren't all together.”

Despite her words it was clear that she was just teasing him. Though her jealous side was incredibly cute.

“That took quite a bit. I'll show you.”

Anton picked up one of the spare firewood branches in both of his hands.

“So, what I normally do is sort of push my mana towards it a little and then say the prayer, asking Tethra to change something.” Anton readied the mana in his mind. He might as well use it to make a second wooden spoon, even if if was to make Verona a little less jealous. “I know you can't see my mana. But, anyway, I would say something like...Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, I beseech you to make this wood into a spoon...the same as the one that I made for Kal.”

A small fraction of mana left him, about an eighth. The wood started to turn to dust and fall away, revealing a wooden spoon. Kal ran and pulled the spoon out of her horse's pack. They were virtually identical. The only difference was the wood it was made from.

“That's amazing.” Verona smiled. “Do you think you could do that to a blade? Or even my spear?”

Anton barely heard her. He was shocked by how little mana it had used.

Before I'd been just saying it in my head...That must be why it used so much mana compared to the others. Tethra must need the prayers to be said aloud, I guess how some prayers were said aloud in my world, but I've just been brute forcing my way through by saying them in my head. That's why it uses so much mana to do the simplest things.

Verona prodded his shoulder. “So. Could you do it?” She frowned when he didn't reply. “You okay?”

Anton chuckled as he shook his head. “I feel a bit like a fool.”

Both frowned deeply. To them it seemed that everything had gone wonderfully well.

“I've only used a bit underneath an eighth of my power, when the last time it took a bit over half of my mana.”

Verona took the spoon for herself, letting out a slight giggle that she had something that he created. “Okay. So that means you're just getting used to using your power. I'm sure that there's a lot more to mine that I don't understand. Speaking of which, I don't know why that disk of mine spun out of control when I tried to bring it back. So, that'll be a thing to practice some time.”

Anton smiled. “I don't want to use all my mana practising, just in case a horde decides to descend upon us. So, who's taking the first watch after a very lovely looking rabbit and vegetable dinner?”

---[]---

The next three days of travel was rather uneventful. Only a few Goblins, Kal identifying them all as outcasts, briefly interrupted their passage. They even spotted a few groups attacking each other and allowed them to just slip by unnoticed. The larger herbivore wildlife paid them little mind and so too did the other predators. It was a rather calm trip, with some rather fun nights, for which Anton was glad. They were making very good progress all the same.

During those three nights, when he had some free time, he had continued to experiment with the prayer power. It seemed a little obvious that he should had been saying the prayer out loud, or at least tested it a bit more thoroughly. However, he had found one way that worked, and with his seemingly enormous amount of mana, he had simply compensated for his lack of skill. There was also the major issue with using all the mana and having nothing left. If he was completely depleted he would just be a liability to a fight, he had to keep a large reserve in him to fight and heal anyone after the battle. In order to strengthen himself he continued to practice his magic. He had made a few copies of the wooden spoons and plates, to which Verona and Kal seemed very grateful for. He tried to make something out of metal, to recreate Verona's dagger from nothing as they had no spare metal, but something stopped him. Tethra, he presumed. Something told him that to create something from nothing was still beyond his reach. Perhaps it would always be, or he was still using it wrong. Before everything had bean a modification or restoration of the object. That was probably why. He hoped that Graterious, or maybe even the Deweth Clans, would have books on the subject. He just needed to get them. He needed to know if there was anything else he needed in order to make it work. A different way to use the magic. Right now it was still like stumbling in the dark, hoping to find something that worked. Still, things were going in the right direction.

He focused himself to the present. Kal, taking the lead as a scout, stopped them at midday. She raised her hands to get them to stop, pointing further down the old road.

In the distance he could see burnt timber rising out of the ground clustered in squares and stretching for over a hundred meters either side of the old road. Large trees had sprouted in strange patterns, smaller ones sprouting in the square burnt timber formations, quite possibly where a building or house once lay.

“Did you see this before, Kal?” Verona asked, brining her horse next to Kal.

Kal nodded. “I saw it and kept well clear. And that's why...”

She pointed to a large collection of burnt beams to one side. Anton trained his eye and saw a flicker of movement. Something retreated from sight.

“Black Goblins.” Kal grumbled. “They're the worst of them. Fast, strong and relatively intelligent. They must be using this place as a home. Their skin blends in well with the burnt wood. And the night. They don't have the same poor eyesight as the Green Goblins.”

“So...Do we clear them out?” Verona asked, tilting her head. “Or do we go around?”

“I think they know that we're here.” Anton replied. “They'll just attack us when we make camp next. I don't think we're going to have much luck seeing them in the dark.”

Kal nodded as she drew her bow. “They blend in well. Be careful of their slings if they've got any. The rocks aren't big but they can kill you.”

“Slings?” Anton said. “Where they spin a rock over their heads and release it at the enemy?”

Kal nodded.

“Well, the Yellow Goblins did have bows...” Anton hummed. “Something we'll need to keep an eye out for.”

Verona made sure that her helmet was on properly. “Thanks for the warning. Anton, I'm going to need some blood.”

He held out his hand and allowed Verona to take a small portion of blood, which she kept hovering over her head. This time Anton said the healing prayer aloud. It took a little longer to do, as he could say it very quickly in his mind but not as fast saying it aloud, but the amount of mana used to heal his hand was insignificant compared to what it normally took. There was still so much that he needed to learn about any of his powers.

Verona spilt the shards and held them up like small shields as they advanced. She seemed content to  act in defence this time. It seemed incongruous to someone who was called a Blood Berserker.

“Kal, it'll be on you this time as well.” Anton said. “Take out everyone that you see and point out large groups for me. I'll hit them with the lightning.”

“Why not just hit them with another flame pillar?” Verona asked, her red glowing eyes studying him.

“Because there looks like there might be something valuable in there.”

“You sure? After all this time?” Verona asked.

Anton nodded. “At the back of the right side of the debris. That looks like it's a building that's still...relatively intact. I can see something shiny poking out of there. It might be gold or silver, something that we can use to buy some freedom.”

“But we've got heaps of gold with us.” Verona jingled a few coins on her person. “I'm not saying that we shouldn't do it, but we've got enough.”

“With what I want to get done, we're going to need every coin we can get. It might not be coins either. We should at least try and see if it's something valuable.”

Verona accepted his explanation and focused forwards. Something flew towards them, a tiny hint of grey. Verona moved a shard of blood into the way and caught the flying round stone. The stone embedded itself into the blood shard, stopping halfway. Verona liquefied the blood around the stone so it fell out and left the blood shard floating unharmed.

Kal loosed an arrow at the source. A wretched cry screamed out. A black body, a little over a meter tall, fell out from behind a burnt beam. She loosed another three arrows, each finding a target, before the next stones were thrown.

Verona rested the spear on her lap and directed the shards with her hands, catching most of the stones. One flew past and struck the chest of Anton's horse. He heard a soft crunching, like bones being bent and flesh crushed. The horse shuddered and reared back, letting out a terrifying scream. Anton didn't know how to deal with wounded horses, so he quickly chanted a mental prayer to heal it. With the pain gone the horse calmed down. He saw in its eyes that it had not forgotten the pain, its movements far more nervous than before.

He saw a Black Goblin lean out with a spinning sling over its head. A quick lightning bolt to the face and it was dead. Kal released a few more arrows in retaliation, nearly all finding a target.

“How many are there?” Verona asked, blocking another stone, the Goblin quickly struck down by Kal.

“They're can't be many more left. They are a lot less stones being thrown.” Anton said. He spied a group running away and struck those down. “I certainly hope so.”

Verona grunted and blocked more thrown stones. The attacks started to petter off after they had killed nearly fifty black goblins. A cry rang out as the short grass shuddered violently as another fifty Black Goblins ran out through the grass towards them. Each ran incredibly quickly across the ground but it was their weapons that gave him pause. In one hand each had a crudely fashioned stone tipped spear that looked very sharp and dangerous. In the other hand was another wooden spear. This was just a sharpened stick, but they held it behind their backs. Something about that tickled at the back of his mind.

As the goblins slowed and leaned back he knew what was happening.

“Javelins.” He said, throwing out as many lightning bolts as he could.

Most were struck down but a dozen launched their wooden weapons. Verona divided her blood up even further to catch them. She fashioned them into plates and angled them so the Javelins glanced away and over them. The wood grazed upon the solidified blood, throwing up fragments of red crystallised blood, as it droved them away. He saw a shiver run down her spine as she gritted her teeth.

With their javelins depleted the remaining Black Goblins continued their furious charge. He didn't understand why they weren't running away after loosing so many, but it didn't matter. A few short moments later and they were dead. They scanned the area for some time before even thinking of  lowering their guard.

“I think that's it.” Kal said, lowering her bow but keeping it nocked.

“Are you alright?” Anton asked Verona.

She nodded, keeping the blood floating around her as she withdrew them close to her body.

“Yeah.” She flashed them a smile. “I just felt it through the connection. That felt really weird.”

They went around the city and made for the slight glint that he had seen before. Kal kept scanning as Anton and Verona dismounted and walked to the building remains. This building had been rebuilt and repaired, in a fashion. Scattered over the ground were roughly cut skin hides alongside small piles of meat and bone weapons. It was the Black Goblin's home in the remains of whatever this city was called. As he looked around he saw more small fur hides where the others had slept. However none of it was valuable in any way. He directed his attention to the glint he had seen before.

What he had seen was not a pile of silver, but rather an iron edge of a large wooden chest. It had been been attacked in an attempt to open it, but the Black Goblins had no luck.  Many of the marks were very old, the dirt and dust having covered it over again. When they had found it he couldn't be sure. The Black Goblins hadn't been able to open it so they had left it there as they continued to claw at it whenever they were bored. It wasn't something they could eat or breed with, so it was probably left as some sort of curiosity to amuse themselves with.

He moved closer, slowly checking underneath his feet for traps. When he was close enough he pushed on the chest with his feet. It moved away like it was empty, even though it sounded like it was full.

“Can you help me lift it?” Anton asked.

Verona nodded, keeping her power active, and floated her blood shards to lift the chest. It was a bit of a strain on Verona but she appeared surprised by its' lack of weight. Anton peeked underneath and saw five white circles drawn into the wood, a small white crystal in the middle.

“What do you see?” Verona asked as they exited the building remains and next to Kal. Kal kept watching the charred building remains.

“Kal.” Anton looked up at her as Verona placed down the chest. “Do you want to recover your arrows?”

She looked out, a frown forming on her face. “Only if you both come with me. I haven't come this far only to get killed by a Goblin playing dead.”

“Good idea.” Anton said.

They moved through the remains gingerly and carefully, only going so far as to recover her arrows. Nothing moved to attack them.

Verona and Anton moved the crate further away from the former city while Kal lead the horses after them. They set the crate down as Verona put the blood back into a small clay pot and deactivated her power.

“This looks pretty familiar.” Verona said. “We took some gold to Maxill in one of these, didn't we? The ones we found in the mountain?”

Anton nodded. “Yep. This one has the same marks underneath so it's very light.” He clapped his hands together. “So, let's see what's inside.”

He moved to the lock, stopping when he saw a mark underneath it, one that looked very familiar. The mark itself was very simple; a circle with a cross on the top. He had seen it before in Atros, but the source was eluding him.

“I've seen this mark before...” Anton scratched his head. “It was before the big battle with the Yellow Goblins...That's it!” Both girls were startled by his outburst. “We found a journal in the mountain. It seemed that the...Tiger, no, it wasn't that. Tigel. The Tigel family was trying to escape the carnage in the south.”

“Okay...”

“Then they were attacked by the Yellow Goblins as they headed to Graterious. Maybe they made it this far and then were attacked? I don't know.”

“When did you find that out?” Verona asked.

“When you were having a bath with Sam after coming back from the mountain.”

Verona started to blush. “Oh. I remember that day.” she coughed to cover her rising flush. “So, are you going to use magic to open it?”

“It's worth a shot.” Anton placed his hand over the lock. “Here goes nothing. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, may this lock become open.”

It wasn't the best description but it seemed to work. A small amount of his mana left him. The lock clicked and the lid opened a fraction. Kal chuckled as she shook her head.

“I think you would make an excellent thief.” She said, crouching down next to the crate.

“I don't think that Tethra would like her power to be used by theives.” Anton said, Kal giving him a smile, as they opened the lid.

Inside was filled with formerly brightly coloured clothes. They had faded, and some had started to rot, over the years as it was left abandoned. Verona and Kal rifled through the clothes and took them out. Even though they were old they were better made than what they currently wore. Both girls looked at the clothes very seriously. It was like they were looking through a clothing store, even though a few moments ago they had been fighting Goblins.

“This looks pretty good.” Verona said as she admired a dull red long sleeved shirt. Anton didn't know what material it was made from but it looked quite strong, despite the age. “I'm taking this. And these.”

Verona pulled out a pair of grey pants and stuffed them into a pack on her horse.

“For later.” She told him. “We need something a little bit better than these.”

Verona's eyes shifted to Kal as she pulled out what seemed to be a dark green butlers uniform. Kal frowned as she looked at the front. When she first saw Alfred, in a somewhat similar uniform, it had caused her some distress. The first thing she did was removed some of the extra adornments with one swift yank, leaving behind a plain dark green long sleeved shirt and pants.

“Definitely.” Verona took the clothes off of Kal's hands and held them up against Kal, taking a glance back to Anton. “I think she'll look really good in guys clothes. What do you think?”

Anton tried to imagine Kal wearing some sort of business suit. It was quite enticing. He smiled at Kal. “I would love to see her in that.”

Kal flushed and laughed herself. “Well, it seems that I've got some things to do tonight.”

As Kal put the clothes into her pack Verona turned her attention to the chest alongside Anton.

“Well, it hasn't been a total waste for you two.” Anton said. “But apart from that it seems that the rest are dresses.”

“Shame.” Verona looked up at Anton. “Don't every try to put me in one of those frilly dresses.”

“Like Duchess Belinda?”

Verona nodded. “Yeah. I just don't like to think of me wearing something like that. How would I fight in that?”

Anton was about to explain that it wasn't to be fought in but he was certain that she knew that. He and Verona continued to pull out clothes. Most of these seemed to be in a bad way torn and rotten, but Kal asked for some of the more dull coloured ones so she could use them as spare pieces of cloth wrappings. His hands, after pulling out another piece of cloth, touched something different. It was a hard leather and certainly not the lining at the bottom of the crate. He peered though and pulled out a leather bound book, the mark of the Tigel family clearly plastered on the front.

“Oh. A book.” Verona said, peering over his shoulder as she rested her head against him.

Anton opened the book, the pages creaking with age. The first pages looked to be of a journal. It may shed some extra light on what happened to the Kar Kingdom. Bertram and Sybil had given him an idea of what happened but there is now way they could have been privy to the whole story. If nothing else it would be an interesting read. As he turned the pages they began to tear and fragment. They were turning to dust from the slightest movement. He had to be careful not to break them.

“I just want to try something. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, I ask you to restore this book, to repair the tears and reverse the damage of time.”

Some magic left him as the book started to creak. The pages seemed to regress in age until they looked like new, with the writing still present and clear.

Verona closed the lid of the chest. “It looks like there was just clothes in there. And that book. Not a bad thing but I thought there might be some coins.”

Anton smiled and took a seat on the chest, and began to look through the pages.

“Okay. Let's head to the back for now. Let's see what the last entry is.”

Anton coughed as he found the last entry. Unlike the rest of the writing, which was clear and delicately written, this was more of a frenzied scrawl with splashes of dried blood covering the paper. It seemed that the prayer didn't erase that.

“We barely escaped with our lives. I've never been so relieved to see a band of stinking and revolting peasants before. Just as the Yellow Goblins were about to kill me, me, an army of peasants came from the east and fought them off. Why the rest of the wretched commoners were never capable of something like this, and stop the hordes from the south, astounds me.”

“Sounds like a bit of a jerk.” Verona said in a huff.

Anton nodded. “I think it might be the same one that we found before. Hang on, it's still going. Even though their hands, covered in filth and blood, touched my skin, I am grateful. Someone traveling with them seems to be a mage from the Kingdom. One that knows healing. That is the only reason that I, Juluis Tigel, am able to write, even though I know that I am still weak and near death. She says that the entire Kar Kingdom is in flames and consumed by death and madness, with only a few places that are still living and not overrun by monsters. In the morning we will be heading towards a fortress that these peasants have built in an old Iron mine. Bale Mine, they call it. Even though I have lost everything; gold, soldiers and land, and that I am the only surviving member of my family, I think that things will turn out for the better. Peasants will always need someone to lead them.”

Anton flipped the page.

“That's it. Maybe he made it to the mine or maybe the Yellow Goblins came back and finished them off. There's no real way to tell right now.”

Verona and Kal were shaking their heads when he finished.

“That man seriously sounds like a jerk.” Verona said, taking the book off him.

Kal looked equally annoyed. “Did he really think, that even with his power and money worthless, they would just put him in charge?”

“Who knows.” Anton said. He moved for his pack with the duplicate map of the Kar Kingdom. “Maybe he thought they would want someone in charge that reminded them of the old days. When things weren't burning and dying around them. Even though the old days let the Kingdom fall to ruin. Doesn't explain why he left this behind. He probably wrote that and thought they would carry that for him, then they told to leave behind the crate and he just forgot. There are more important things than some dresses.”

He returned with the map and lay it down on the chest. It wasn't a perfect copy but everything important was clearly labeled. With Verona and Kal leaning on him from both sides, he traced a line from the Atros marker to the east, following a line denoting a road, until he stopped on a marker for a city on the road that seemed to be the same distance that they had traveled. He tapped his finger on the marker. Judging by the size, and a few adornments, of the marker it seemed to be a small city.

“Xewood. I think that was the name of this place.” Anton looked up at the burnt remains of the city. “And if they were heading to Bale mine, that would put it here.”

Anton pointed to a location to the south east of the city. On it read Bale Mine. He wasn't sure about how accurate the map was for distance but it looked to be well over a day's ride out of the way.

“Do we go have a look?” Verona asked.

“Can we afford to?” Kal asked in return.

Anton rolled up the map. “Nithroel did hint that were were meant to be a lot more people alive within the old Kar Kingdom. Almost a thousand other people. Maybe they'll be there...But I don't know what they would do if we just walked in. If they're still living like they're in the old Kingdom they might not like the new leadership. And we won't be there to stop them from doing something stupid to our people.”

“So, that's a no?” Verona asked, hopping back onto her horse. “I'm fine either way, but I'd rather get to see more Beast-kin rather than some humans that might be crazy or want to be the new rulers.”

“You know that not every Beast-kin is going to let you feel up their tail.” Anton said, watching Kal effortlessly mount her horse.

Verona shrugged, a tiny smile on her face. “We'll see.”

“How much further to Graterious?” Kal asked.

“If the map is right, about four more days until the border. Maybe less if we stress the horses but I think we're making good time.” Anton said as he mounted his horse and they started to move away from the remains. “It's so much easier than heading through that damn forest.”

Verona chuckled as she brought her horse into a run. “Come on. Let's go free some slaves.”

Chapter 071. Vol 3 - Confusion

Chapter 071:

It was almost five days later when they neared the border of the Graterious Empire. The map that Anton had wasn't as accurate as he had hoped, rather that he didn't exactly know how far or fast they were travelling. Still, they made good progress. Verona and Kal had worked on their clothes during the nights. Kal had convinced Verona to not wear their relatively bright clothes while they were still in the wilderness. They had decided to wear them when they travelled around Porswea and other Qaiviel cities so they didn't look like total hicks. That and it might help Kal blend in by not wearing old villager clothes with her white and green mask. Now she would just be passed off as poor rather than completely odd. Verona become very excited by the possibility of getting more proper clothes for all of them to wear.

However, during their travels something had been bothering Anton, even though he was liking Verona's distractions. While the Accursed Forest, and the knowledge that the former Kar Kingdom was infested by monsters and beasts that destroyed a Kingdom in a few weeks, had prevented the Qaiviel Kingdom from expanding into their territory, it didn't explain why Graterious had not. During the nights Anton had looked more closely at the maps. There seemed to be nothing to stop them.

Now they were here, it was clear why.

A huge fissure in the earth ran from the mountains of the Deweth Clans to the north another range that was just visible in the distance in the south east. The fissure was easily a hundred meters wide, giant purple crystals jutted out over five meters tall and covered both sides. A strange purple hue seemed to cover the air coming out of the fissure.

To his side Kal squeaked. Her head twitched as she frowned at the sight, her breathing become more rapid and uncontrolled. Verona moved up and held Kal's hand.

“I don't think that that thing was there when you came through.” Verona said. “Was it?”

Kal's ears drooped as she looked worryingly at Anton. “No...There were a few of those purple crystals poking out of the ground. But I didn't think anything of it. This wasn't there...This...”

Her ears continued to droop as her breathing started to become more rapid. Did she think that they were about to start disbelieving how she arrived at Atros?

Anton moved close and held her hand, waiting until she looked him in the eyes before he said anything. “It's okay Kal. I believe you. But, have you see anything like this before?”

Kal violently shook her head. “Never. I've never heard or seen something like this. I didn't go too close to the cities so I'm not sure if someone knew this was going to happen after I passed...” She looked at him with searching eyes.

He smiled and gave her a kiss. It calmed Kal a little but she was still clearly rattled. Verona hummed and leaned forward on the horse.

“Well, it looks like we're in luck. We're not going to have to go the long way around.” She chuckled, pointing towards two of the larger purple crystals jutting out of the middle of the fissure at the far right, very close to the mountains in the distance. “There's a land bridge between those two big crystals. It looks like the only one on the whole thing.”

Anton tried to look more closely. There may have been one but it was very hard to see at this distance. This was another chance for him to test out the prayer power. He moved his horse between the two of them, receiving an odd look, as he held both their hands.

“Okay. Let's give this a go. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, grant the three of us enhanced eyesight for the next minute.”

As before, a smaller fraction of magic left him, less than when he performed it on himself by speaking it inside his head. The world burst into clarity and vision. As before it was hard to get a control on the increased vision, he kept hold of both of their hands as they groaned as they adjusted to the vision as well.

Anton focused it towards the two giant purple crystals. As Verona had said there was a land bridge across the fissure that appeared to be held up by the large crystals. He couldn't say if it was natural or not, but it looked to be the only way through. Just as he was about to say something he saw movement along the land bridge. A small black body lead over a dozen green smaller bodies over the bridge. Goblins. The more he looked the more he saw. There had to be several hundred of them at the very least, many were clambering in and out of the fissure.

They remained in silence until the prayer effect wore off. The extreme clarity disappeared and their vision returned to normal. Verona coughed and shook her head.

“Wow. That was fun.” Verona mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. “Though, I didn't expect to see that many Goblins running about there.”

“I...” Kal took a deep breath to calm herself. “When I came through here there were only a few Green Goblins. Nowhere near like what they've got now. They must have been drawn here. There can't be any other reason why they're here.”

“Did you see those Black Goblins leading the Greens?” Verona asked.

Anton nodded. “Yeah. The Greens were just doing what they were told. I'm not sure what they're doing, but they were doing it.” Anton rubbed his short beard. “I remember when Dana was first captured by the Yellow Goblins, Bertram was showing me a book that had a little information about the Goblins. About how the lower breeds, like the Greens and Yellows, will follow something that can intimidate them.”

“The Black varieties are definitely stronger.” Verona mumbled, Kal nodding. “They could use those things...Slings. As well as Javelins and stone spears. That makes them a lot smarter than than the Green ones. And why they're their boss..'s.”

“Are we going to go around?” Kal asked. She didn't seem that serious about what she had just said, like she just decided that she was the one to say it.

Anton shook his head. He leaned down and pulled out the map of the Kar Kingdom. “For now I don't think we have that much of a choice if we want to get to Seocuria this year. If this map is right, there's something like a giant bay to the south, south east of us. And maybe a smaller one just to the south of where this fissure goes. If we get can a ship in Graterious, and hire a crew, then we could...We could sail to Seocuria and without having to travel across all that land. And we'd only have to cross that fissure and deal with those Goblins once.”

“That's a good idea.” Verona smiled and nodded. “Though, I don't know what I'll be like on a ship.”

“We could also move hundreds of Beast-kin at once without having to go across the land.” Kal murmured. “And away from people looking at and questioning us. I like it.”

“Have you been on a ship before?” Anton asked.

“No. But the city that I grew up in was near the ocean. I remember the smell of the salt all the time.”

“We'll see how we go.” Anton turned to the crystal fissure. “But first we need to get through this and find out what Graterious is like before we make any serious plans.”

“I'm going to need some blood.” Verona lowered her spear and collected a few drops. She smiled awkwardly as she looked at Kal. “I don't want to take too much from Anton...Could...Could I...”

Kal looked down at her padded hand, and nodded at Verona. Verona gingerly made a tiny cut into the soft pads on her hand. She winced but kept her hand still. When Verona had taken another vials worth she stopped and looked at Anton. He held the Kal's shoulder and quickly said a healing chant aloud. Kal's wound healed instantly.

“Thanks Kal. I'll be sure to give you a big cuddle tonight.”

“Umm...Sure.” Kal shrugged. When Verona looked forward he caught a tiny smirk on the corner of her mouth.

Verona raised the blood shards over her head as they slowly advanced. Anton prepared the magic inside him as Kal readied her bow.

There was quite a bit of ground to cover between where they stopped and the land bridge. They said nothing as they closed in on the Goblins. When they were a few hundred meters a scream burst out from the fissure. A Black Goblin spotted them, their eyesight was leagues better than their Green cousins. The first one to spot them roused the others to fight. Green Goblins, armed with rudimentary wooden spears and surprisingly sturdy looking wooden armour, rushed towards them as their leaders hanged back in relatively safety.

Anton summoned a floating lightning ring over the approaching Green Goblins. The display of magic, and their exploding comrades, brought them to a stand still. A shrill scream from the Black Goblins stopped the charge as they retreated back to the start of the land bridge.

Definitely well organised. Comparatively. If these guys led an attack on Atros it'll get really messy. Hopefully we'll have the cannons and guns working...Plus we've got Shawn and Joclyn now as mages. I don't think that they've got as much magic as me but they'll be pretty tough. I think that Atros is actually pretty safe now.

All the Goblins formed a line for defence, the Black Goblins had to constantly fight to keep the Green Goblins from charging forward. Anton threw a dozen large fireballs at the lines. They screamed and broke, running back along the bridge. The Black's tried to rally but the fear of Anton's magic was too much. Verona drew up her blood crystal shards and floated them over her head. A group was rallied and tried to attack, a Black leading a group of fifty Greens. She smiled at Anton, a wild look on her face. With a flick of her wrist the shards tore the Goblins apart before they even made twenty meters away. As their bodies were torn apart Verona drew up even more blood and turned those into more shards. A tiny shiver ran down her spine but she kept it under control.

They were only a few dozen metres from the start of the land bridge, and the Goblins continued to flee, when something started to burn at the back Anton's throat. He looked either side and saw they were entering the purple haze that smothered the air. Something tingled at the back of his head, like a warning. A feeling that grew in strength that told him to go back. As he focused more deeply he realised that it was the prayer against poison. A month had passed since he cast it in Nonbu'rn and it was still working. He wondered how long it would keep working.

He reached out and stopped both girls.

“What's wrong?” Verona asked. A sling's stone came towards them, she blocked it with a shard and let the stone fall to the ground.

“The air. I think it's poison.”

“How do you know?”

Anton motioned for them to get closer to him. “When...We became a family, I cast a prayer on myself to give myself immunity to poison. Just in case the food was poisoned. It's telling me that the air itself is toxic.”

“Are you going to do that to us?” Kal asked. She looked around and pointed along the land bridge.

Despite them both having killed hundreds of Goblins there only seemed to be an increase to their numbers. Anton saw Goblins, of both types, crawling up from the depths alongside the two crystals that held up the bridge. They were screaming down into the depths and more were continuing to emerge.

“Yeah.” Anton held both of hands and chanted a prayer aloud to give them both immunity to toxins and poisons indefinitely. They both mewled as the power washed over them. Anton did the same to the horses. He didn't want them to die halfway through the trip, he wasn't sure how much of the worry was from Dana's reaction if she found out that he had killed three of her horses.

“That feels funny.” Verona mumbled. “So this means that I can eat anything now?”

“I...I wouldn't recommend it.” Anton smiled back.

“You're immune to being poisoned by people that don't like you.” Kal said glumly. “I'm sure that Nobles, Kings and Emperors would pay a lot of money for that.”

“What would they say if they found out that we were going to use that money to free Beast-kin?” Verona chuckled.

“Just so you can hug some fluffy tails?” Anton teased.

Verona flushed a little, the whole look a little odd on her red glowing body. “Maybe. But we've already got the best one.”

Kal grumbled. “Can we please get moving? There are more Goblins appearing.”

Anton smiled and readied the lightning and fire magic in his mind as they started a cautious gallop across the bridge. Anton fired lightning bolts at everyone he could see along the bridge, fireballs at clumps, and Verona took out anyone that came too close and dealt with projectiles coming at them. Kal kept her bow nocked but didn't fire. There would be no time to recover the arrows.

When they reached a third of the way across the bridge Anton heard something coming from below them. He peered over the edge from the back of his horse as far as he dared. The fissure was at least several hundred meters deep, covered by hundreds of purple crystals of every size. The purple haze grew more thick as he looked down, finally becoming completely opaque before he could see the bottom. But through the haze he could see movement. The bottom looked like a writhing mass of worms, but the reality was far worse.

Thousands of Goblins; Green, Yellow, Blue and Black were streaming up the two large crystal shards in the center of the bridge. He glanced back and saw the same thing happening behind them. There had to be thousands of each type coming up towards them, screaming at the top of their lungs.

How are there so many?

“We need to run!” Anton whipped at the reins, both girls seeing what he saw and breaking into a run.

Verona formed the blood shards as a shield infront of them while Anton fired lighting bolts at any that managed to get in their way. When they reached the halfway point of the bridge the center was covered with Green and Yellow Goblins, with the other colours close behind. Anton threw a fireball into the center, incinerating a path and knocking the rest over the edge. The other goblins barely registered their screams as they fell hundreds of meters down into the purple hazy abyss. He didn't even know if they hit the bottom, the noise of the swarming Goblins was so great.

A surge of Goblins were about to reach the top of the bridge as they clambered up the purple crystal. Anton formed four lightning rings, pushing two to either side of the bridge. As the lightning rings burst into life they passed the charred halfway point and continued to run. Crackles and explosions continued behind them as Anton heard Goblins exploding as hundreds of lightning bolts rained down along the side of crystals from the rings.

Verona split half of her blood shards to the rear to protect them as they continued without looking back. A few more Goblins climbed over the side of the bridge, seemingly having crawled from underneath, but were quickly dispatched by Anton's lightning bolts. A dozen Black Goblins, even a bright Red Goblin, one that he had never seen or head of before, stood at the end of the bridge as a guard but were quickly dispatched. Evidently the Reds were not much stronger than their fellows.

Once they reached the end of the bridge, and onto the grass on the other side, Anton looked back. Nearly a thousand Goblins, a bizarre display of a moving multicoloured mass, ran towards them. He could see and feel the anger coming off of them.

Is that place sacred to them? Can they even have something that could be considered sacred? They seemed okay with the purple air.

Anton formed a powerful ring of fire magic and pushed it into the screaming mass. The pillar of fire erupted in the coloured mass just as they were about to reach the end of the bridge. Most were incinerated instantly, their blackened corpses thrown into the air, as the rest cowered away.

“Ha!” Verona cheered as she laughed. “That'll teach 'em.”

The ground began to rumble as cracks began to emerge on the side of the land bridge. The heat from the pillar was too much. The surviving Goblins at the back ran towards the large crystals at the middle and began to climb up and down.

As the flame pillar flickered out of existence the bridge began to crumble. Surviving Goblins screamed as the ground gave way underneath them, tumbling away into the purple abyss. The bridge collapsed past the two large crystals, they too began to groan and fall towards each other. Both crashed into each other, throwing up hundreds of purple fragments into the air alongside the Goblins that had been scrambling away from the collapsing bridge. They twisted and ground against each other, a ear splitting noise filled the air as they disappeared down into the fissure. A second later two deep thumps came out as they crashed into the bottom of the fissure. Purple dust and air flew into the air and slowly settled around them.

Anton waved for them to continue moving away from the fissure. Verona kept her power active and the shards near them for safety. Nobody said anything until they stopped on top of a small hill a hundred meters back.

“That was fun.” Verona chuckled. “But...What was any of that?”

“I have no idea.” Anton replied. “But there's no way were going to get through that again.”

As the purple dust began to clear he couldn't see any part of the land bridge. Only a stump remained on the far side. He looked along the fissure but could not see any other way across.

“We won't be getting back to Atros any time soon.” Kal lamented. “The first place that I could actually relax and call a home. It looks like we'll be heading home on those boats. That we still need to find, buy and get a crew. That aren't going to ask too many questions.”

“That does sound hard, but we'll do it one step at a time.” Anton said. “I think I'll be alright with a boat. If something goes wrong I'll just use my power and stop any sea sickness.”

Anton looked around the hill. A strange silence was starting to build. Right up until finding the fissure he had been able to see some sort of life on the Kar Kingdom side. On this side there was absolutely nothing. Only grass and a forest in the distance with looked like it could be a tiny trail of smoke rising in the distance.

“I think we'd better keep moving. Those Goblins might take up chase soon.” Anton said, both girls nodding furiously. “If we put enough distance between us and them they might just give up. Another thing that we're going to have to warn Atros about.”

---[]---

The map of the Graterious Empire didn't have any major cities or towns this close to the border, so they had very little direction to go on. They decided to head towards the trail of smoke and see if there was human habitation where they could get better directions. This also meant that Kal had to completely cover herself once again. Now she seemed annoyed that, after quite a few days of being free in the sun, she had to go back into hiding. With her hands and feet covered by cloth, and the reinforced and secured mask covering her face, there was no way to tell that she was a half breed Beast-kin. Anton hoped that they would be able to smooth over any questions about who she was and why she was dressed like that.

A trail emerged through a break in the forest as they approached the solitary smoke trail. Kal rode at the back of the group and kept checking over her shoulder. It seemed that nothing was following them from the fissure. He didn't want to bring a horde down upon whomever was living this close to the fissure. Perhaps they would know what was going on.

“This doesn't make much sense.” Kal mumbled, breaking the silence.

“What's wrong?” Anton asked, splitting his attention forward and back to Kal.

“This is too close. They're too close to that many Goblins.” Kal said. She shook her masked face. “They should have been killed by now, even if that fissure and those Goblins have only been there since I passed. I don't see how it's possible.”

“It might have something to do with that purple gas.” Anton shrugged as he slowed down next to Kal. “Maybe it makes them docile...ish. Where they don't want to leave. Though they were going to try and kill us when we got too close.”

“We're about to find out.” Verona said. She grabbed the reins of Anton's horse and brought him to a halt.

Ahead of them lay a small settlement. A human settlement. Nestled to the side of the forest pathway were twenty odd wooden buildings. They were simple but well built. A thick wooden fence surrounded the small hamlet, a single entrance guarded by large wolf like creatures chained to posts either side. The chains were quite long, more than long enough to stop someone who tried to slip in. In the middle, a particularly large building, a small trail of smoke came out of the top. However he couldn't see anyone around.

Verona waited for Kal to join them before moving forward again. She didn't have her blood power active so she couldn't scare anyone with her red glowing eyes. Kal kept herself a little before behind Anton to shield herself from any scrutiny.

The wolves started to bark wildly at them. Anton stopped them before getting too close, the wolves strained at their chains as they continued to bark.

Out of the central building a man emerged. His hair was grey, his back slightly stooped over as he studied them with curious eyes. He looked like Bertram, ten or twenty years ago. What was most bizarre was how he walked. It was like his head didn't move, just floating straight towards them, his body a marinate perfectly controlled by his thoughts. There was noo hint of extra movement or even a gait. Anton was not feeling good vibes from this man already.

He reached the edge of the wooden fence and silenced the wolves with a wave of his hands, yet the wolves didn't even look back at him. The man looked all three of them over with no visible reaction.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice eerily as smooth as his walk. “You people know that you are not meant to cross the ward stones.”

Okay...This is going well. At least he's not talking about the fissure. I don't think that could be called a ward stone. We shouldn't say that we're from Atros. But, maybe we could at least get him to show us the way out of here. So we can head onto Porswea.

“Forgive us.” Anton began, the man unblinkingly staring at him. “We were trying to find our way to Porswea and we got lost. Can you tell us the way?”

The man blinked, for the first time, a tiny frown on his face. Behind him more people started to emerge from the building, men and women of all ages, all had the same blank stare as the elderly man. They too moved to the fence and stared. Verona glanced behind them. There were no people there, but Anton wouldn't doubt that it would happen if they waited too much longer. These people were very creepy. And they had barely said anything.

The elderly man looked to the north east. “Travel that way, follow the trail. Fast. Don't go off it. You'll fine a series of large stones with a purple crystal on the top. AND DON'T COME HERE AGAIN!”

The volume shocked Anton, Kal squeaking in surprise and Verona's eyes were wide open.

Time to go.

“Thank you for you help.” Anton said hurriedly.

He turned and was about to bring his horse into a run as another person came out of the main building. It was a boy, barely five years old and completely naked, drenched in blood. In his hands was the severed head of a Red Goblin. Judging by the boys mouth he had been eating the flesh. The severed head looked like he had bite marks around its eyes and cheeks.

“Granddad?” The child in a sweet voice. “Who are they? I thought bad people weren't meant to pass through the ward stones? Who are they?”

Anton didn't want to hang around any more. He sharply whistled at Verona and Kal, and they sped off. He dared a glance back. The people were staring blankly at them, now with farming tools in their hands. Were they about to attack them?

Verona and Kal brought their horses next to him.

“What the fuck is happening in this place?” Verona asked.

Anton looked to Kal. Kal shook her head. “I'm sorry. I didn't know any of this was here. I went through the north. I don't know what was happening to the south of the border. I don't know what's happening any more!”

He could hear her sniffling underneath her mask.

“So where are these stones we're meant to be finding?” Verona asked.

Towards the south, through pathways deeper into the forest, he could see even more small hamlets. These looked exactly the same as the one they just left. A few people were tending to some small crops and fields. When Anton looked at them they stopped, some in mid swing of their tools, and glared at him. Their unblinking eyes were very unsettling.

“Keep moving.” Anton said, whipping the reins more.

“As I was saying.” Verona spoke up again. “Where are this ward stones-Oh, there they are.”

They had barely been travelling a few minutes, at full speed, and they had reached several large standing stones, seemingly made from the same purple crystal as the fissure.

How big is this weird little cult place? It could only be a few kilometres of forest at most.

“Whatever.” Anton shrugged. “We should keep going until night fall. I don't want to stop anywhere near this place.”

“What was that place?” Kal asked, shaking her head. “Everything I've just seen, seems to be trying to make a me a liar to the both of you.”

Anton gave her hand a squeeze. Kal seemed more rattled by the possibility of the both of them doubting her, rather than a creepy cult that had children eating the flesh of Goblins.

“Is there anywhere that we might be able to stay the night?” Anton asked aloud, pulling out the map as they continued following a path beyond the ward stones. “This map basically has Porswea as the closest city from the border. The rest seems like wilderness. I'm guessing that the Graterious maps weren't very detailed on this side of the border.”

“I don't want stumble across any more of that stuff.” Verona said quietly. “What the fuck was up with that kid?”

“They are trying to do things that no human is supposed to do.” A scratchy and elderly voice said from somewhere infront of them. “Yet they try and try again...”

The voice didn't come from either of them, they looked at him in confusion as they searched for the voice.

“What?” Kal asked aloud.

“Over here, mixed one.” The voice came from infront of them.

Behind a thin tree an old woman emerged. The clothes she wore were tattered and worn, covering most of her limbs. White and stringy hair came out from underneath a hood, a toothy smile peering out alongside a pair of milky white eyes. The skin he could see was old and weathered, covered in liver spots and deep creases. She shambled forward using a large cane keeping upright. The tree that she emerged from wasn't big enough to conceal her form, neither was the forest thick enough to hide her in shadows. Like she just appeared from behind an invisible wall.

Verona lowered her spear. “Who are you?”

“Just a poor old woman that lives on the edges of civilisation.” she said. Her bare foot slipped over an exposed root, but she didn't fall. Her cane dug deep into the dirt to steady herself. She took the next step to a level spot like she had never slipped. How much of this was an act? Anton kept his magic bubbling away, just in case.

Her milky eyes snapped to him as he readied a lightning bomb. A smile formed on her crooked face.

“There's no need for that.”

“You...Do you know those people?” Anton asked.

The woman shrugged, stopping a few meters away from them. “Not that well. But they leave me alone if I don't go through their land. And why did you?”

“We got lost.”

The woman scoffed. “I think we both know that's a lie, Grand Mage.”

“What?”

Verona's body glowed red as she drew up crystal shards and readied them to throw. The woman furiously waved her hands as she backed away as fast as she could. Now she didn't need the cane to move.

“Please! Please don't hurt me. I mean no harm.”

“How do you know about him?” Verona asked, keeping her glowing red eyes focused on her.

Another smile formed on her face. “No one can miss that much magic.” She started to lick her lips. “Far too much for any human to wield normally. Though you are getting close to that level, Blood Berserker.”

“I guess that's easy enough to see.” Verona admitted.

The woman nodded seriously. “I'm surprised, Grand Mage, that you're able to keep one of them under a semblance of control.”

“I keep myself under control.” Verona said angrily. “I can do that myself.”

The woman seemed taken aback. “Even more interesting.”

“Who are you...Ma'am?” Anton asked.

The woman thrust out her hand, palm up. “I have not eaten in some time. Nobody wants to give food to someone as old and decrepit as me. I am very hungry...”

Verona looked at Anton and shrugged. Kal remained stoic.

She's definitely a mage. Or a witch maybe, though that might just be prejudice from my world. She's clearly got something else going on. Maybe she knows some things about how to use the magic of the Old Gods...What did she call Kal, a Mixed? Does she know about her just by looking through magic? I doubt she can see with those eyes...

The woman glanced towards him. A thin smile remained on her face as she kept her hand outstretched.

Well, she doesn't seem like those creepy cultists, or whatever they are. Perhaps we can get some information from her. At the very least somewhere that might be safe to sleep.

Anton reached into a pack on his horse and pulled out a small collection of dried meats and some nuts. He didn't want to get too close, just yet, or throw it at her. Instead he nodded to Verona and got her to bring him one of her blood shards. She formed it into a plate, placed the food on top, and pushed it towards the woman.

The woman's milky eyes blinked and glanced between them as she snatched the food down and wolfed it down.

“Thank you!”

Torn apart and crushed pieces of meat fell out of her fingers as she rammed them through her few remaining teeth. She gave no concern for how they looked at her. Kal groaned as she watched the woman eat the food like a savage animal.

When she was done she licked her lips and her fingers. As she let out a hearty sigh it was quickly replaced by a smirk.

“Thank you. That was so good. Most people wouldn't give someone like me...The foolish men and women of Graterious look down upon worshippers of the Old Gods. Though they won't hurt us physically the still treat our kind very badly.” She pointed a bony finger at him. “Something that all three of you should be careful about. Far better than Qaiviel though I must admit.”

“How do you think you know these things?” Anton asked. He didn't want to give away too much.

The woman smiled again. “I know that you've come from the west. But there's nothing there but monsters and beasts...Not to mention that giant fissure opened up about thirty days ago. Nearly every Goblin for a hundred miles has been drawn to it. I don't understand that.”

Kal let out an audible sigh of relief, the old woman throwing her a glance but saying nothing on it.

“It did stir up the false believers.” The old woman shrugged. “They're a lot happier now.”

“Do the Goblins let them live so close?” Verona asked, taking a quick glance back to Kal. “I mean, we saw one eating a Red Goblin.”

The woman smirked again. “Ah...They're still not getting it. Doesn't stop them trying though, does it?”

Anton didn't really know how to respond to something like that. She didn't offer up any more information.

“We are looking for somewhere to stay for the night, that's not in the wilderness.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at the towards the north. “You find a small village that way, called Soulthor. Follow the smoke once it starts nearing dusk if you haven't found it then by then. If you're not one of those cultists I wouldn't be out at night. If you get lost check your map.”

Anton pulled out the map of Graterious. Where there was once a open area between the border of the Kar Kingdom and Porswea in Graterious, was now a small mark with the name Soulthor underneath, seemingly burnt into the map. He didn't hear anything or see anything cast from her.

Although, nobody can see my magic before I use it...So I'm sure it could be done. Still not good though.

“Well. Thank you for the information.”

Another smile formed on her face. “After being willing to help someone like me, it is the least I can do. Although, it is good to know that the visions of the Old Gods were not a lie this time. Not a disappointment, even if it is just a few sentences between us. It seems that the old Kar Kingdom is rising once again.”

“What?”

“I haven't been there in some time...death and madness rule the dead lands.” She started to scratch her chin as her eyes looked away in deep though, of ancient memories brought back to the surface. “At least the last time I was there. I wonder...I wonder if that tree is still growing. It has been so long. Goblins won't attack a Karak tree. It's just a tree after all. I wonder...”

“Wait a second.” Anton said, the woman stopping her reminiscing and looking straight at him. “Jeff said that one of the Kar Kingdom mages once visited Atros and left a seed of that tree.”

A beaming smile, if it could be called a smile, formed on her face. “Hmm...So it's all still going then. You. You and you. All alive, somehow. That's very interesting. I'm sure they would have all been dead by now. Esperit certainly doesn't disappoint.”

A shout came from behind the ward stones. A gathering of the villager cultists were approaching. Apart from the shout they moved in complete silence, their arms and legs moving in perfect sync as they stared blankly at them. In each of their hands were sharp short swords and farming tools.

“They don't look happy.” Verona said glibly.

Anton nodded, looking back to the elderly woman. She peered around his horse and chuckled.

“They really don't seem happy. I think you'd better get moving.”

The elderly woman started backing away into the forest. “Grand Mage, Blood Berserker, Orison Templar. I would be delighted for you to visit my home some time. Over the winters I have collected and made many things that you'll find useful to take back the Kingdom. Many things. I haven't forgotten my vows to the dead king. I would be glad to say them again.”

“What vows?” Anton asked. She shook her head and continued to back away.

“You need to leave before they reach you.” The elderly woman continued to retreat into the forest. As parts of her body passed the trees they started to disappear into shadow. “Once you've rescued your slaves and got them home safe, come find me. I'll have everything ready for you then. Good luck, Grand Mage.”

With that she disappeared completely. She just simply ceased to be present.

“Anton?” Verona said, taking a glance back before moving closer to him. “What the fuck is happening here?”

Anton checked the map again. Now a small mark had appeared on the furthest side of the Graterious Empire near the sea. This had just a small hut with the name Koumore underneath.

“I don't know. I don't know.” Anton replied, putting the map back into his pack. The cultist villagers were continuing to close in on them. He whipped the reins and they run towards the north. “I'm thinking that the dealing with the Yellow Goblins, the Kobolds, the Duchess, and the Orc and Clansmen invasion was a lot easier than this. If nothing else a lot less confusing.”

Verona grunted and shook her head. “I'm going to need a good sleep after this. Try and sort this crap out in my head. Did we even get her name?”

“No.” Kal said back, a frown forming on her face. “And, what did she call me?”

“Orison Templar.” Anton replied. “Guess you've got a power in you. I'll have a look tonight.”

Kal chuckled and shook her head as she glanced back. The cultists didn't seem to be following but that could change any moment. “Verona's right. None of this was happening when I came through. What the fuck is happening in this place?!”

Chapter 072. Vol 3 - Provincial Lands

Chapter 072:

Anton didn't even think of stopping until they found the village of Soulthor. Neither Verona or Kal wanted to stop either, with the strange cultists potentially snapping at their heels. While running it did leave Anton a little time to think about what the elderly woman had said. She was definitely a witch, if the name meant the same thing it did back on Earth, and knew far more than she was supposed to. It seemed that this witch could commune with an Old God on a regular basis, enough for her to start to doubt the visions she was receiving. He would think about it more when they stopped and were. Everything that was happening in Graterious seemed to be a thousand times stranger than anything in Qaiviel, and they were barely a few miles into the land.

The village of Soulthor, if this was that place and not another cultist village, was about half the size of Atros when he first arrived. However, this village had a very large wooden wall at least four meters tall and very thick. The forest had been cleared for nearly a hundred meters around. Nobody could approach without being spotted and attacked. The space was filled with withered crops that looked rather sad. Thankfully the Earth Mana allowed plants to grow very quickly, but seeing the plants so sick made him feel a little sad for their predicament.

Standing on top of the wall were soldiers. Only their chests and above were visible. Each had a iron helm and a leather chest armour, though they were battered and very weathered. Even their weapons, simple looking spears, looked old and worn. If anything they looked worse equipped than Maxill when he first arrived. At least these didn't look like the cultists.

Well, they are quite a distance away from the bigger cities, according to this map. So they might not be on the highest priority for new gear. I don't know if there's something they could do to keep their weapons and armour in relatively good condition. Something to ask Jonathan.

Anton glanced either side, seeing some of his thoughts mirrored in Verona's face and he was sure that Kal was thinking the same.

They slowed as they approached, a few soldiers on top of the wall shouting to their fellows as they kept an eye towards them. There were at least twenty soldiers in the middle when they threw up their hands for them to stop.

“Stop. Who are you?” a soldier yelled over the wall.

“A trio of weary travellers looking for rest.” Verona yelled back.

Verona smirked and looked back at the soldiers of Soulthor.

“And why is one of you wearing a mask?” Another soldier asked.

Verona glanced back at Kal. Kal turned slightly to Verona but said nothing.

“Our friend has been deeply wounded.” Verona replied. “And she doesn't need you judging her for what she's been through.”

It was sort of true. Just so long as they didn't think that she was a cultist.

“Why do you come from the south?” the first soldier asked. “You know that your kind aren't welcome inside. It's also not time for trading either.”

“If you're talking about those...people.” Verona glanced back. “Then we aren't them. So, can you let us in? We're looking for somewhere to sleep and get some hot food. Do you have that here?”

The soldiers glanced at each other. They whispered to each other rapidly before parting.

“Alright. Come on in. We don't have any reason to keep out honest travellers. But, you're going to be kept underneath a close watch. One fuck up and you're out. Or dead.”

One side of the large wooden gate rumbled open. Verona gave the soldiers a wave as they entered the village, Anton and Kal doing the same. Their horse’s hooves clicked onto the stone road as they entered the village. It was a bit like Atros, before he arrived. The village consisted of dozens of wooden houses, a few larger buildings that seemed to be for storage, nothing grand but they didn't seem to be as poor as the raided hamlets in Qaiviel. A simple looking life.

The soldiers began to step down from the wall and walked towards them. It gave Anton time to study them a bit more. Their dark and faded red clothes, underneath the worn leather armour, were tattered and sewn together from different scraps of cloth. Some didn't even have boots, or even wraps like Kal had. A very poor frontier village.

We'll have to get some boots for Kal. Good ones that fit her. That might be a bit tricky to get. Someone sympathetic.

“You'll find the tavern over there.” The soldier pointed to the center of the village. Anton saw that he was missing two of his fingers, the others were filthy and one looked like it was infected. He could heal him now but he didn't know how these people would react. Especially being so close to those strange cultists.

Anton followed the man's fingers. He pointed to the largest building in the village. There were dozens of drunken and shambling people staggering out and in of the building. Quite a few horses were tied up at the front, drinking from a water trough. If anything it looked like some sort of rough saloon. Full of gangsters and cowboys. Hopefully they could get a room to sleep in. And sources of information for the goings on of the Graterious Empire.

“Thank you.” Anton said as they trotted to the tavern, the wooden gate closing loudly behind them.

The villagers, of all ages, glanced up as they passed, most of their attention on Kal's mask. When they passed they returned to their work or play. It was odd that they didn't regard them any further. Perhaps they saw more odd travellers coming through their city than somewhere like Maxill.

They stopped at the tavern and a young boy resting on a chair next to the door came up to them, his face beaming.

“Afternoon.” He said in a high pitched but happy voice. “If you're looking for somewhere to stay for the night then this is the best, and only, place in Soulthor.”

“That's good to know.” Anton said as he dismounted from his horse. “We've had a rough day and would like some rest and good food.”

The boy smiled even more. “Then you should head on in. My granddad will be glad to take care of you. You can tie your horses up here. Nobody's going to steal it, not with the nobles' soldiers inside.”

Anton hummed and nodded. “Thanks kid.” he turned to Verona and Kal. “We'd better bring the packs in. Just in case.”

Both girls nodded and slung the packs over the shoulder. The kid regarded their actions with indifference as they tied their horses to the long wooden post, next to the other horses. Those were different to their own, covered in a thick leather and iron studded armour. They were built and bred for combat.

Anton took a deep breath and entered the tavern. A mix of drink, hot food and raucous shouting filled his senses the moment the door was opened. Dozens of Graterious soldiers and guards were drinking and eating, a few desperate waiters moving between them handing out drink and food. Anton spied a group to the side of the tavern, better armoured and equipped than the drunken guards, sitting and eating in relative silence. They barely seemed to be drinking, and judging from what he could see it was only water. They must be the owners of the horses outside.

“So, do we talk to the person behind the counter?” Verona asked. Kal nodded in agreement as the taverns patrons started to regard them with curiosity and suspicion. She shrunk behind Anton, a clawed hand gripping tight onto his own, as the men began to stare at the women.

“Better had before they do something dumb.” Anton said.

They walked towards the counter, an elderly man pouring drinks standing behind. He looked up and smiled as Anton rested both arms on the counter. Kal remained very close to the both of them while Verona grumbled that her head barely made it over the top.

“I thought that all of you Bandit Hunters came together.” The elderly man said. “Did you drop back or did you find another bandit hide-out?”

Anton looked at the silent group.

Kal said something about the bandits in Graterious were meant to be really bad, and that when she left they were starting to organise something to stop them. Guess this is them.

Anton shook his head. “I'm afraid not. We're not a part of them. But we are looking for somewhere to rest for the night, some good food and somewhere to rest ourselves and horses.”

“Well...” The man glanced between the three of them, taking a quick moment when he focused on Kal's mask and Verona's silver hair. “Well, if you three are fine with sharing the same room. We're kind of full tonight.”

“That'll be fine.” Verona smiled and nodded. “Can you look after our horses as well?”

The elderly man nodded. “Sure.”

“Alright. We'll pay for the night. How much?”

The elderly man smiled. “For the three of you, that'll be one silver coin. Or ten copper rings.”

Copper rings? Well, it's a thousand copper coins for one silver. I wouldn't want to carry around that much. So there must be another denomination in there. So that makes a ring a hundred coins...Not a bad thing to carry around, but forgery must be a problem. Anyway, I don't know if that's a good or bad rate. But, considering what we've got back at Atros, and what I've been told that all of us could earn, it's nothing. Perhaps these people use the barter system more often than coins.

Anton reached into a small coin purse inside his armour, something that Alfred had been insistent for him to use, and pulled out a silver coin. The elderly man smiled and took the coin.

“Thank you. Where are your horses?”

“The three on the end.” Anton pointed outside. “The one's that aren't owned by those Bandit Hunters.”

“I'll get my sons on it.” The man waved to a few men at the side. “I'll show you to your room.”

He hobbled out from behind the bar, one of his legs was missing and replaced with a wooden peg, and led them towards a door at the back. They followed in silence until the man stopped at a door.

“Alright. This is your room for the night. There will be a meal later, I'll send someone to let you know when it's ready. There's a bucket of water for cleaning yourselves. If you need more you'll have to buy it.”

“Thanks.” Verona said with a wicked smile smile. “What's for dinner?”

“Nothing too fancy.  Some cooked wolf meat, baked potato, some bread and beans.”

“Sounds good.” Verona nodded furiously.

The elderly man nodded and left them. Verona kept her eye on him until he disappeared from sight.

“Great. Now we can have some private time.” Verona giggled as her grin became even wider.

“Is that's all that's on your mind?” Kal asked.

Verona shrugged. “I still owe you that hug...” She moved and grabbed Kal on the butt. Kal squeaked and brushed her hand away, moving behind Anton and wrapping his arm around her waist. Verona chuckled. “Yeah. This is going to be a really fun night. At least we'll be doing it on a proper bed for once. Tumbling onto the wet grass really ruins the fun.”

Verona was grinning wildly and chuckling when she opened the door. The inside was sparsely furnished: a large bed, a table and a few chairs. It wasn't much but it was enough for them. Verona placed the packs onto the floor and flopped onto the bed. She waved for Anton to join her as Kal took off her mask and unruffled her hair.

Anton took Verona's hand and pulled her back up. She giggled in delight as he kissed her deeply. He didn't let her part until she became limp in his hands. Kal, out the corner of his eye, was looking very jealous. He gently let her go and onto the bed, Verona giggling like an idiot as he kissed Kal just as deeply.

Verona's head rocked from side to side as she laughed. “Seems like you are even more excited about this than you are. Does doing it on a bed excite you that much?”

She pointed at his crotch as Anton's hand found its' way to Kal's behind. Kal moaned into Anton's mouth in response. She pushed him away gently but didn't remove his hand from groping her butt.

“I...I don't really mind where.” Kal chuckled and began to kiss his cheek. “Does it really matter?”

Anton gave Kal another deep kiss. “While I would love nothing more than to do that, there are a few things that we need to do first.”

“Like clean ourselves?” Verona sniffed at her armpit. “I really need a bath or something.”

“Even before that fun...” Anton chuckled as Verona hopped off the bed and pulled Anton down for a quick kiss. “We need to gather a bit more information. I know that this is going to be a little hard to say, but what Kal knew of Graterious may have changed since she passed through.”

Kal had the tiniest hint of wry smile. He knew that she wasn't the type of person to get offended by something like that, but she appeared to appreciate it.

“So...we've got three groups we can talk to.” Verona sat down on one of the chairs, Anton taking another chair while Kal sat on the edge of the bed. “The regular soldiers, those Bandit hunters, and the tavern owner. Who goes to who?”

“I...” Kal took a deep breath. “I don't know if I should go. I'm not afraid but being on my own, with that mask, they're going to want to know.”

Anton squeezed Kal's hand. “It's okay. We'll try our best while you look after our gear.”

Kal looked a little awkward but still nodded. After all this they didn't want to get ousted by a drunk and leery Graterious guard who got too close.

Verona hummed. “I'll take the drunk and leery guards, see what they have to say. I saw them checking out my butt. I'm the one without a cloak. Anyway, I could get them to think that I might be interested in them if they give me some information.”

Anton nodded. “Okay then. I'll try and have a chat with the Bandit Hunters. See what they have to say. If they'll say anything.

“Right...” Kal frowned lightly.

Anton and Verona glanced at each other. They both knew that Kal wanted to help but circumstances prevented her, and she didn't like that. One day, Anton hoped, there wouldn't be this discrimination.

“Right.” Verona clapped her hands. “Everyone got some money? Oh, I'll just get some blood from you Anton. Just in case they try something. I don't think they'll have that special magic stopping metal on them, especially with what they're wearing.”

Anton offered up some blood and then healed his hand. He chanted a healing prayer as Verona moved the blood into one of the pots. With that ready they got ready to leave, both giving Kal a quick kiss and squeeze, and entered the tavern. He heard something heavy dragged along the wooden floor. Kal wasn't going to take any chances.

The tavern main room was even louder than it was before. More people had joined and there were very few places free at the tables. Verona smiled at the sight.

“Okay...Let's see what we can find.” Verona nodded to the elderly man, serving a few rowdy men at the bar. “We should meet up here if we got anything.”

“Right.” Anton looked at the guards. They appeared even more drunk than before, even a few had passed out on the table.

“We'd better get moving before they're too drunk to talk.” She nodded to a laughing group of guards. “I'll see what I can find out. See you in a bit.”

She gave him a quick kiss, straightened out her hair and walked over to the group of guards. They regarded her with suspicion for a moment before making room for her. She laughed and took a spare drink and sculled it.

Right. Time for me to speak to the Bandit Hunters. See what they've got to say for themselves.

It struck Anton that he didn't really know how to approach the quiet men in the corner. Nevertheless he knew that nothing would happen if he just stood there. He took a deep breath and approached the men in the corner. When he was a few meters away they started to look in his direction. Nobody else was anywhere near them, a ring of tables acting as a buffer.

“Evening.” Anton said. “I presume this seat isn't taken?”

Anton smiled as he took a spare seat. Whatever he would say he would just have to improvise.

The Bandit Hunters looked to one of their own, the man almost opposite Anton. He was a plain looking man; short brown hair and a short beard, brown eyes and few small scars on his face. His fingers too were scarred. The Bandit Hunter smiled back.

“No.” His voice was gruff but not angry. “You're the first person that's even tried to approach us tonight.”

“From what I've heard you're meant to be some sort of Bandit Hunters.”

“That's right. Name's Virgil.” He offered his hand over the table, which Anton shook. “So what are you, and your two women, doing out this far?”

“We're travellers.” Anton replied. “Of a sorts. We haven't exactly been around...real civilisation for some time.”

Virgil smiled, one that Anton knew was put on, and looked to Verona. She was laughing alongside the other guards. About what he had no idea.

“Sounds like you must have come down from the mountains. Especially since you've got a Clansmen woman with you.”

Anton smiled. “Basically. Think of us as trying to make it back to civilisation.”

“So what changed?” Virgil looked him over. “You seem like you were doing well before you came here, judging by how many teeth you've still got. And their colour. And that you aren't just a raving lunatic.”

“A change of scenery was in order.” Anton smiled.

Virgil chuckled. “From what I heard you came from the south. And that there are only bad people that live there.”

Anton nodded. “We ran into them.” He leaned closer to the soldiers. “Who are those people? They seem-”

“Mad?”

“Yeah. It's almost like they're...I don't know how to describe it.”

“I'm surprised you didn't hear about them before...” Virgil glanced around to see who was looking in. “But if you've really come down from the mountains that I guess you wouldn't know. You've wound up in Soulthor, the most south eastern city of the Graterious Empire. Only the truly desperate or insane would come this far. Not us though. But it sounds like you've come across someone that's even more desperate and crazy than the people here. They call themselves The Ancient Listeners. No idea what that means, or what they're doing, but they're fine as long as you don't go into their lands. They also help keep the monsters and beasts beyond in control and out of here.”

Guess they don't know about the giant crystal chasm. Still doesn't explain why they didn't try and colonise the dead Kar Kingdom.

Virgil glanced at his men. “I'm sure that's why Cassius let's them live.”

“Who's Cassius?”

Virgil seemed genuinely shocked, so too did the men around him. “My, you have been in the hills for some time.” He glanced at Verona. “I can see why you took your time. You've got with you some sources of fun, it seems. Even that one with the mask looked like she had a good body underneath those clothes.”

The other Bandit Hunters laughed and returned to their food.

“But.” Virgil smiled. “Cassius is a Lord of the Triumvirate of Graterious. He rules the southern lands of Graterious. Lord Septimus rules the north and Lord Atticus rules the east. Those three are the most powerful people that rule in the empire.”

“So there's no king or emperor? For an Empire?”

“Oh there is an emperor, Emperor Decima. But...” Virgil waved his hand. “But the power of the Emperor is very vague, especially if any of the Lords of the Triumvirate don't back them. Which they don't. Only one does and it's not Lord Cassius.” Virgil smiled. “You've come at a very interesting time. If you're here to fight for them you could make a bit of money as a mercenary. If you're a fighter that is.”

“But you're not doing that. Fighting a war?” Anton said, looking at the armour still on their bodies. It was leather mixed with metal panels and studs. Good for strength without a real cost of movement. Not for fighting in a big brawl of soldiers, all of which were probably armed to the teeth in full metal armour.

Virgil shook his head. “No. My men and I serve Lord Cassius to deal with the bandits that have infested the lands under the reign of Emperor Decima. Loads of them have sprung up in the past few winters. Some very bad...Anyway, we're hired to deal with them.”

“Well.” Anton slapped his thighs. “I guess that's why we really didn't run into any problems. Other than those crazy people to the south. I should buy you all a...What do you drink here?”

Virgil smiled and waved him down. “I appreciate your generosity, but we won't be drinking until we return to Porswea. We've just dealt with the last of the holdouts to the north and there's no way they would be any further south than this. So, without any more orders, we're heading back home.”

“Porswea...I take it that's a big city?”

“The capital of the Southern Triumvirate.” Virgil smirked. “So, yes. It's a big city.”

Anton clapped his hands. “That's great. Can my friends and I tag along?”

Virgil shrugged. “I don't see why not. So long as your friends are up for some fun.”

“That's not happening.” Anton replied coldly. “Ever.”

Virgil smiled and nodded. “Good. I'm guessing that you have the strength to keep them safe. My men, even though they are starved for good women, aren't the types to take it by force. They’ve seen the faces of women that some of the bandits take. Not everyone else you'll meet here is that well behaved.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

A warm hand wrapped itself around Anton's shoulders. He recognised the sensation, he saw Verona grinning as she rested her head on his.

“Hey Anton.” Verona's face was a little flushed from drink. “What're you doing?”

She started to kiss his head as she grinned at Virgil and his Bandit Hunters. “Hey, who's this?”

“This is Virgil, and his Bandit Hunters.” Anton explained. Verona smiled even more wildly as she gave him a rough salute. Virgil just shook his head. “How much have you drunk?”

Verona laughed. “Only a little bit.” She giggled and began to nibble on his ear. “Just a few sips. Acting the part.” She whispered to him.

Anton patted her on the shoulder, she relinquished her grip and staggered back for one of the empty chairs. She rested it near Anton, one of the hunters shuffled to the side to make some room. Verona waved him down.

“I'm not that big.” She chuckled. “Name's Verona.”

The Hunters gave her a polite nod. Many were checking her out, but Verona paid them no mind. She simply rested her head on Anton's shoulder. “So. You're Bandit Hunters? Are there many left? Bandits, I mean?”

Virgil nodded with a hint of regret. “Unfortunately, yes. We go through an area, clean them up, and then they're back again a season or so later. It's good money but you do start to get the feeling that it's all pointless at times. There's an absolute brute leading them in the southern lands. A demented brute called Tullas Mad Eye. Don't know why he's called that, haven't met him yet otherwise I would have killed him. I think that he wants to take over the southern Triumvirate as a new king. Not fucking happening.”

“Any idea where he is?” Verona asked.

“No.” Virgil shook his head. “For all we know he could be hiding in one of the bigger cities. Or even a lord himself. Even Lord Cassius himself. The bandits we've come across don't know a lot. And we've asked very nicely.”

“Shame.” Verona stretched her arms out. “Bandits are never fun to deal with.”

Virgil chuckled and downed his drink.

“Well, we would like to chat further but we've been riding all day.” Anton said. “What time would you guys be leaving?”

“First light.” Virgil replied. “I want to get back to Porswea as soon as possible.”

“We'll see you then.”

---[]---

Anton knocked on the door to their room. He heard the bed groan and someone walk towards them, an unmistakable hint of claws tapping on wood.

“Who is it?” Kal asked flatly.

“It's us.” Anton replied.

“Hang on.” Something groaned behind the door and it opened. Kal had dressed down, relatively, but most importantly her digitigrade feet were visible in all their glory. Anton and Verona entered and moved the table and packs of gear back in the way. Verona removed her chain and barrette and gently laid them on the table.

“That...That was interesting.” Verona said as she sat on the bed. “I take it that you got something out of those Bandit Hunters? 'cause I didn't get much out of those guards.”

“You sounded like you were having fun.” Anton said. He sat beside Verona as she rested on his side.

“They wanted me to start drinking with them.” Verona shrugged and lay back on the bed. “Probably  so they could find me defenceless and push me down onto a bed. Not gunna' happen.” She huffed and folded her arms. “They would have just preferred to see my tits.”

Kal smiled awkwardly, offering a hand to Verona. Verona chuckled as she patted it. “I found that Porswea is run by someone called Lord Cassius. That it's the largest city in the area and we should be able to get just about anything we need there.”

Anton looked Kal's feet. “I think we'll get some boots to hide your feet, even though it's such a shame to hide these.” Anton picked up one foot and started to play with the claws and knuckles. She moaned as she laid down on the bed and let Verona continue.

“That's it. What about you?” Verona asked.

Anton told them both about what he found about Graterious and the four different rulers. They listened in silence.

“That sounds very confusing.” Verona said when he was done, still lying down on the bed. “I think Maxill and Qaiviel was easier. Just get on the good side of the Duchess and we can get just about everything as long as we've got gold. This sounds like there's four groups of people to deal with, all that might hate each other. Not to mention there's probably going to be people on each side that are going to be difficult to deal with. Sounds like a complete mess.”

Anton patted Verona on her taught stomach. “I think that we got off easy with Duchess Belinda.”

“Are we going to do the same thing as before?” Kal asked, lying down and offering her tail for Anton to play alongside her foot. “Where you make a deal with the leader...this Lord Cassius?”

Anton nodded. “Yep. Though it might be hard to get close to him. He's going to have quite a few layers of people to go through first before we could even say hello. And just having money won't get us through this time when they're meant to be a civil war bubbling away.”

“We'll just do what we did before.” Verona sat up and started to undress. “Just make a big scene of our magic and that'll be enough. At least it'll get us noticed and then we'll have to work from there. Anyway, I need to get this stink off me. That goes for the both of you too. I'm not having sex with either of you before getting a bit cleaner.”

She waved them over to the bucket of water and the few relatively clean rags.

“Sounds a good as plan as any.” Anton said. “Though I don't think that I can just blow up a field without just becoming an enemy of the Empire.”

Kal, taking off her shirt and pants, frowned deeply. “There might be something. But I really don't know much about it.”

Verona exclaimed in happy surprise. In the corner was a large wooden bucket filled with water and three clean rags resting on the side.

Verona, completely naked, took a wet rag and did her best to try and remove the accumulated dirt and grim. “What's that?”

Kal sighed as she took a wet cloth rag and passed it to Anton before getting one for herself. “The mercenary company that Seocurians got my bounty poster from, the Red Company, they have base, or guild hall, or something, in Porswea. We could try and sign up with them, or another group, to get some prestige so we're noticed. I'm sure that you'll be easily noticed.” Kal grimaced. “Though I really don't want that attention.”

Anton ruffled her hair, Kal eliciting a mewl. “Well, we don't want to get bogged down in Porswea if we can't get things moving in a day or so. We'll see about buying a ship and onto Seocuria. That's the most important thing to us right now.”

“I think we should spend a day in Porswea at least.” Verona said. “If Kal's right we can get better armour, weapons and clothes. Something to make us look a little more professional, even with those new clothes.”

They washed themselves in silence for some time.

“I wonder what the rest of Atros is going to think.” Anton broke the silence. Kal and Verona  glanced up at him. “With the purple crystal chasm and the thousands of goblins. And the crazy cultists.”

Verona smiled as she threw the rag over the bucket. “You said you would be doing that at dusk. But, it's not that time yet.”

“So you want to cuddle?” Anton asked. Kal shook her head, Anton didn't miss the tiny hint of a smile on the corner of her mouth.

“We've got some time.” Verona smiled and grabbed Kal's waist. She squeaked and grabbed one of Verona's breasts in return. Both girls started laughing as they led Anton to the bed.

---[]---

Anton rolled out the piece of paper, and the communication pen, as dusk finally settled over the village of Soulthor. He wasn't particularly worried about getting it set up right away, not when that would end their fun. Anton dressed himself in a pair of pants as he thought about what to write back to Atros.

A murmur behind him made him smile. He looked back and saw Verona and Kal nestled together underneath the rough cloth of the bed. Considering they had been in the outdoors for most of the time they didn't have to worry if they were a little loud. Now they couldn't afford to, though that did give rise to quite a few fun things during their escapades.

Both were whispering to each other, a cute giggle escaping Verona's lips as she held Kal's tail against her face. Kal appeared very calm and relaxed as Verona whispered to her again, both now giggling. They nestled closer together as Verona caught his eye.

“You're coming back once you're done?” She asked quietly.

Anton nodded. “As soon as I'm done.”

Verona giggled and brought Kal in for a closer hug. Anton turned back to the paper.

Now, what do I say?

He shrugged and decided to start off with the basics.

Hello, this is Anton. Are you getting this?

At least the pen works on this end. Though, I wonder how far it can actually work. All the way in Seocuria, or even beyond? The other side of the world?

He laid the pen down and waited for it to move. Slowly the pen glowed and began to write.

Hello Anton. This is Dana writing. I have been asked to write this day. With me are Jeff and Sam. They are doing well.

Anton smiled. He didn't know how many people in Atros could read or write, but he didn't think Dana could. When he looked more closely the writing was quite rough and uneven. She may have been learning to write.

I'm glad to know that you are receiving this. How are things going in Atros? Are Shawn and Joclyn going okay?

The pen took a while before it moved again.

They are doing very well. No incidents have occurred since then. They have been trying to make something called a 'Magic Forge'. Jonathan says that they are already getting results.

That is good to hear. Anything else happening in Atros?

No. No Goblins, Kobolds or Rock-Rat activity nearby. Jeff wants to scout the Green Goblins mountain or hill you discovered. We managed to talk him out of it for the safety of Atros. Everything else is going well. I would like to see Raston soon.

That's right. Raston will be on his way to Maxill by now. He should be in the forest. He should have a decent force with him to deal with for protection. I still haven't heard anything from the Duchess.

I'm sure that he's fine. He's got quite a few soldiers with him for protection with some of the best armour we've got. On that subject, have you heard anything from Duchess Belinda?

Last night we received a message from someone named Alfred. He said that the repairs of Maxill and Nonbu'rn are complete and that they have acquired four more small cities. He made it sound like it's something that good for us too.

That's good to hear. It is good for us as it'll help the Duchess and us in the long run. Unfortunately, things are not going that well for us over here. Things have changed since Kal has travelled through Graterious, she didn't take the change well. A huge purple crystal chasm has appeared at the old border between the Kar Kingdom and the Graterious Empire. Thousands upon thousands of Goblins, of all the known varieties and previously unknown Red Goblins, infest the chasm. We managed to cross but destroyed the only way through. After that we found a strange cult that Kal says lives far too close to Goblins to exist. They were very strange; they were nearly silent, moved in perfect unison and we saw a child involved in a ritual involving eating the flesh off a Red Goblins head. We got out of there fast. Then we met, what we believe, to be the female mage that gave the Karak tree to Atros. Jeff says that he remembers her.

Jeff here. She's alive? It's been so long. How is she?

Strange and seemingly very powerful, if that's her. She knew who we were, who Kal was despite being covered, and could apparently commune with the Old Gods. She used magic that is beyond me. Take from that what you will.

At least she's alive. But apart from that, you're fine?

Yep. We're heading to Porswea in the morning and are now resting. We'll let you know what's happening the next time we can. We all wish you luck.

Okay. Good luck yourselves with your rescue mission!

The pen fell still and didn't rise. Anton took that as the end of the conversation. He wrapped up the paper and pen and put them back safely into one of their packs. Verona, gnawing on Kal's ear, glanced over and smiled.

“They're doing well?”

“Very well.” Anton slipped into bed behind Kal. “It seems that Shawn and Joclyn might have a magical forge going by the time we get back.”

“Does that mean magic...cannons?” Kal asked. “Blades and arrows?”

“Maybe. Maybe.” Anton hadn't given it much thought, but the possibilities were huge. Especially if they mixed the different magic's together. Even more so if they were to get a glyph user from a different god.

“That's good” Verona said, shuffling back from Kal to make a space between them. She patted the bed loudly. “Now ge where you're supposed to be. It's your harem.”

As Anton moved over Kal he heard something. Something that made Kal twitch and shoot up, nearly hitting him in the head. Verona looked around as well. They waited in silence, moving to get their weapons.

He heard the noise again, coming from the distance. It was a groan, a mixture between a roar and a moan. It wasn't someone enjoying themselves.

“Alright. What's that?” Verona asked.

Both she and Anton looked at Kal. She was straining to remember but nothing came to her. She looked to them and shook her head. “I'm sorry. I've never heard something like that-”

Someone slammed their hands against the door. Verona flared red and lowered her spear, Kal dived for both her daggers and held them in a reverse grip, lowering her body. They seemed to forget they were naked.

“Hey!” A high pitched voice, very similar to the child out the front of the tavern, shrieked at them. “You need to get up!”

Verona moved to the door and stopped. She glanced down at her heaving breasts, sighing loudly. She folded her arms, keeping her power active, and opened the door enough for them to talk through.

“What's happening?”

“You need to get out here if you want to live. Giant Mule Rats are attacking! And they don't care if you're hiding in here.”

Verona looked at Kal. Kal nodded. “Mole Rats. They're a beast that lives in Graterious and in southern Seocuria. I've never had a problem with them, even when I've been a few feet away from them.”

“Dad and Granddad says there's lots of them. They say if you want to live you need to fight.”

Verona sniggered as she turned off her power, looking at Anton. “I remember you saying the same thing with the Goblins.” Verona turned back to the door and shut it. “We'll get dressed and then we'll be there.”

“Thank you. Please hurry.”

The boy's footsteps left their door and did the same thing to the next room in the tavern.

Verona grumbled as she started picking up her clothes and armor. “Just when things were starting to get really interesting.”

In under a minute they were fully dressed, each checking each others armor. When they were done, and double checked that Kal was completely covered, they exited their room. One of the Bandit Hunters brushed past them, muttering an apology, as he ran to the exit still assembling his armor.

“This seems serious.” Kal mumbled. Anton smiled and gave both of their hands a squeeze.

The main area of the tavern was completely abandoned, they could hear shouting outside. As Anton was about to open the door Verona stopped him and got a fresh pots' worth of blood. When he opened the door it seemed that nearly everyone of Soulthor had gathered outside the tavern. For a terrifying moment he thought they were a lynch mob, all were armed with weapons of varying quality, ready to attack. Seeing their faces directed to the west brought him a little relief.

“What's happening?” Anton asked over the clamor of the guards and villagers.

They glanced at them before looking back out. Verona huffed when they didn't even acknowledge her question.

“Thanks everybody.” Verona grumbled, shaking her head.

Virgil, and his Bandit Hunters, moved through the crowd and next to them. “Hello Anton, Verona...Um, masked lady.”

“Kal.” Kal said quietly.

Virgil nodded. “Kal. You ready for a big fight?”

“They're not saying much.” Verona said, her annoyance still clear on her voice. “Apparently those noises were from something called...” Verona glanced at Kal, both hands resting on the hilts of her daggers while the white bow remained attached on her back. “Something called...Mole Rats?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. Damn things are a menace when they get riled up. It's not often but...”

“What did that?” Anton asked. A creeping sense of dread flooded his body. If that cult, The Ancient Listeners, had riled them up they would be in serious trouble from the villagers.

Virgil shook his head and pointed at the villagers of Soulthor. “Because these idiots decided to build their village right next to one of their nesting sites, an ancient nesting site, and pushed them out. They destroyed and burned down their nests for more room to grow crops and harvest rare wood. And for some reason they don't like that.” Virgil shrugged. “I can't imagine why.”

Anton glanced at Kal, who nodded. When he looked straight ahead Virgil was smirking. He leaned closely and whispered. “Though, I think disturbing The Ancient Listeners didn't help. I wouldn't go saying that too loudly if I were you. These frontier people can be pretty superstitious.”

“Right.”

Virgil's face turned angry as he looked back at the villagers. “Though, you could have told us that the Mole Rats were going to be coming back soon. That it was time for this clan to return.”

The elderly tavern owner shuffled through the group. “We didn't know.”

“Yes you did.” Virgil shook his head. “Your drunk soldiers spilled it when we punched one. That's why you wanted us to stay for the next two days. You knew it was going to happen.”

The villagers hung their heads low. Virgil grunted. “Whatever. We can't escape on horseback now anyway.” His eyes glanced back to Anton, he was sure that was directed at him. “So we're going to have to fight. What sort of weapons do you have?”

“I've got a spear.” Verona said. “Kal's got a very nice bow and daggers and Anton's got...magic.”

Virgil looked Anton up and down. He, and the other Bandit Hunters, looked incredulous at his body. Anton wore basic villager clothes with some gifted Qaiviel leather armor on top. None of that spoke that he was a magician.

“Well, if you're just some trickster, you'd better have some good tricks if we're going to survive.”

The howls, the haunting groans, became louder and louder. Anton looked towards the wall, to where the howls were the loudest. A few Graterious soldiers manning the wall began shaking and ran away. One tried to rally the soldiers back, his head was grabbed by a large gray claw and was dragged over the wall, kicking and screaming. Another scream cane from far away, one crying out for his mother, then the sound of bones snapping, then it stopped. The sound of ripping flesh and cloth filled the otherwise silent air. The villagers and the soldiers began even more panicked as the fleeing soldiers reached them.

Kal readied her bow and stared towards the wooden wall. “They're coming over the wall.”

Dozens upon dozens of large gray blobs moved through the streets, their forms only briefly illuminated by the few flickering torches. Anton managed to get a decent look at one. The Mole Rat was the size of a giant dog and roughly the same shape. It's body was not covered in fur but there were dozens of patches showing a dark gray and wrinkled dark grey flesh underneath. Long and gangly limbs, with long sharp claws, propelled them effortlessly across the ground. Everything in their path, carts, boxes and fences, were knocked over. They stopped and began to sniff at the air as more continued to climb over the wall. Two tiny eyes glinted at the side of its bulbous head as it sniffed at the air, its head twisting. These creatures could barely see but had a great sense of smell.

The growing hoard stopped at a house and battered down the door in a flurry of strikes. A scream pierced the air as the creatures dived in, bursts of blood splashed and stained the wooden walls.

“Shit.” Verona mumbled.

The creatures came out of the house, their faces now drenched in blood, flesh and shreds of clothing covered its bulbous head. A row of tiny razor-like teeth, dripping with blood, snarled towards them.

“Get into a fucking formation.” Virgil yelled at the terrified Soulthor guards. “Or you'll get killed. By them or me.”

The terrified guards nodded and formed a rough line towards the approaching Mole Rats even as more of the creatures continued to climb over the wall, like water flowing over rocks. The cries of the Mole Rats were growing even louder as their numbers swelled.

The Mole Rats slowed as they approached the guards, their heads cocked from side to side as they sniffed at the air, their shoulders protruding above their back as they cautiously approached.

“Okay.” Anton said, moving so he could see the creatures. “This might be a little loud.”

“What?”

Anton raised his hand and fired lightning bolts at the Mole Rats. The surge of lightning ripped through the creatures as their bodies exploded. The splashes of blood and tiny whimpers of the dying terrified the Mole Rats. They snarled at each other, unable to determine what was happening. Anton fired again and again, killing dozens more before they moved.

Instead of running away the Mole Rats charged with all their might, slathering in a wild rage. Verona glowed red and drew up the blood shards from the small pot and stepped infront of the guards. They gasped at her glowing form as she threw the shards forward. The solidified blood tore through their thick hide and bodies began to pile up infront of her.

A small group of Mole Rats darted to the side and onto the buildings. Their claws dug into the wooden and thatched roves with ease as they attempted to flank them. As Anton turned to fire at them he heard a bow being drawn. An arrow flew forth and struck the lead Mole Rat in the head, its body tumbling onto the ground dead, bits of straw roof stuck in its claws and thrown into the air. Kal drew back again, as far as the bow could manage and seemingly without effort, and fired again. She struck the rest of them in quick succession, stunning everyone else present as they watched the Mole Rats slam into the ground.

“Don't just stand there.” Virgil said to his Bandit Hunters. “Fire your arrows!”

A volley of arrows flew forth and into the diminishing horde of Mole Rats. With their screams echoing into the night the creatures stopped and started to flee, their leathery short tails tucked between their legs. Anton continued to fire lightning bolts into their retreating forms. Verona began to give chase, her feet moving at a nearly inhuman speed. She reformed her blood into a horizontal large disk and threw it towards them. The disk ripped their bodies in half, those infront screamed even louder as they ran with all their might. She flicked her wrist and the disk kicked up into the air and landed on the screaming Mole Rats and continued to slide along the mixture of flesh, dirt and blood. It nearly reached the wooden gate before it shuddered and returned to liquid and drenched it in blood. He had no idea how many were Mole Rats were killed, but there were many bones and twitching corpses sticking out of the river of blood. A slow groan began to emanate from the path of blood.

Verona clenched her eyes shut and gripped down hard on her shoulder, sinking to one knee as she slammed her side. Anton ran towards her, her body was shaking when he touched her. Her glowing red eyes looked towards him full of excitement and fear. She scrunched them tight and took deep breaths.

“I'm...I'm okay.” She said as she used Anton to stand up, Kal moving close with her bow still drawn and scanning the surroundings. “Just. That was a bit...much. It wasn't this bad when I fought the Orcs and Clansmen at the Gravestone. This time I felt them being crushed. That was...” Verona grunted as she stood up. “Different. Something I know I shouldn't enjoy.”

“Are you okay?” Kal asked, gently resting a hand on Verona's arm. She smiled back and nodded, patting Kal's clothed hand lightly.

Anton gave Verona a quick hug before turning back to the stunned villagers and Bandit Hunters. They were completely still before a villager raised his trembling hand towards them.

“What...Who are you?” it was the elderly tavern owner.

“We...” Anton looked at Verona and Kal. “We are sent from the Gods to save this world.”

They villagers stared agape at them, the Bandit Hunters too were stunned but held it together better.  There wasn't much he could say to get out of scrutiny and suspicion after killing the Mole Rats seemingly without effort. He decided he might as well go with it, go with what he was actually sent here for.

“Really?”

Anton nodded. “Indeed. That is why we are here.” Anton looked towards Virgil and his Bandit Hunters. “And we need still need to head to Porswea at first light. Will you be heading there as well after this?”

Virgil shook lightly and nodded. “Y-Yes.” He coughed to recover himself. “We will, at first light. I know that we won't have any bandits to worry about at least.”

He laughed nervously but kept an eye towards all three of them. Even though Kal didn't have any magic he regarded her with quite a lot of suspicion. Though she doesn't have magical abilities, perhaps she might in the immediate future, something he still needed to look into, Virgil and his Bandit Hunters seemed to think she might have something even more powerful in her. It was like she didn't even need to use magic to fight them off and was content to use a bow, the mask helped to reinforce that image.

I'll check when we get some time. Should have thought about that rather than enjoying their bodies...

Anton nodded. “Will those things be attacking again?”

Everyone looked at the piles of dead Mole Rats, many twitching and moaning pathetically as life left their ravaged and broken forms.

“After that, no. I don't think so.” Virgil chuckled. He looked down at the bow in his hand, a frown forming on his face. “I think they're done for tonight.”

“Excellent.” Anton clapped his hands. “We're going back to bed until the morning. If more of those things come back just come and get us.” He nodded back to the piles of dead. “We can handle them.”

They walked back into the tavern, leaving the stunned villagers to watch over the piles of dead bodies in complete silence.

Chapter 073. Vol 3 - Yellow, Blue and Red

Chapter 073:

Anton awoke early the next morning, a tiny beam of light warming his face, with both girls had curled up in his arms. It seemed they had been awake for a little while. They were mumbling something to each other, a brief giggle, then it stopped the moment they realised he was awake.

“Good morning you two.” Anton said, giving both girls a squeeze on their rumps. They smiled as they stretched out their bodies, Anton's head nearly struck by both arms.

“Looks like nothing happened during the night.” Verona mumbled. “I suppose that's good. No more of those Mole Rat things.”

“Weren't you supposed to be on watch for the last part?” Anton asked.

Verona giggled and rubbed his cheek. “Yeah. But I've only just crawled into bed.”

She threw off the sheet covers and began to pick up their scattered clothes.

“But you managed to take off your clothes?” Anton asked. Verona chuckled once and continued collecting their clothes.

Kal remained his his arm and squirmed as she rose up. Anton took a moment to admire the toned mocha coloured back, the muscles twitching underneath her skin with every breath. He ran his hand up her back, Kal throwing him a wry smile as she patted his chest. Before they went to bed Anton checked Kal's body again and found nothing. Why the witch called her an Orison Templar was still beyond him, perhaps she would get powers in the future.

“At least they didn't try something.” Kal spoke quietly.

Kal glanced to the door. They had moved the table, and their packs, to act as a weight against the door. Nobody had tried anything during the night. Anton would have been surprised if they had done something after their display that previous night, though there was still their three horses unaccounted for. That would be interesting.

“After seeing what Verona did I don't think they would be that dumb.” Anton said.

Verona, having collected their clothes and separated them, grunted loudly as she gripped hard onto her elbows, hard enough to for her fingers to turn white.

“I wonder if they've cleaned that up?” She asked, a look of pain on her face.

“Are you okay?” Anton asked, getting up and holding her hand.

It shook lightly but she gripped tight on his own. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It's...It's just that it can be a little difficult seeing and remembering all that...blood.”

Kal made a noise, a frown on her face. Anton didn't know if she knew what happened to Verona when there was too much carnage around her.

Verona slapped her face with both hands. “It's getting easier to control.”

Anton kissed her deeply, her hands entwining with his. “If something happens, you will tell us?”

Verona nodded. “I will.”

They dressed in silence and made sure that they had collected everything. Kal spent a bit of time on her cloth wrappings than normal, she didn't want anything to happen now, and double checked that everything was fastened tight. When they were ready they moved the table, picked up their gear, and headed out. Anton half expected there to be someone outside waiting for them but it was completely deserted. When they walked back into the main area of the tavern he found the elderly tavern owner alongside over a dozen villagers. Anton stopped, Verona and Kal staying very close, as they stared back at him. Their faces were a mixture of awe and fear. He guessed that it was something that was going to happen a few more times before he was even done with his first trip through Graterious. And this was just the first village that they had found. At least they didn't have to destroy too much when they went through.

“Good morning everyone.” Anton said. One villager averted his eye and made for the door. None of them stopped him from walking away. “Is there something wrong?”

The elderly tavern owner shook his head. “No...Everyone's terrified about what happened last night.”

Most of the eyes were focused on Verona. She huffed and folded her arms underneath her chest, partially hidden by the armour. “I'm not that terrifying.”

Anton smiled and gave her a kiss on her forehead. It cheered her up a little.

“Are our horses ready?” Anton asked. “And what about Virgil and his men?”

“They're outside.” The tavern owner nodded to the young boy. “He'll get your horses and meet you outside.”

Anton got the feeling that they kind of wanted them gone; the elation of surviving the attack of the Mole Rats had disappeared over the night and now they were just left with the fear of what power the three of them contained.

“Thank you.” Anton said. He pulled out a few silver coins. “I know that we paid for the night, but I think you might need a little bit of help to rebuild.”

The elderly tavern owner looked down at the silver coins, like this was some sort of test, like the coins were worth more than their actual value. Nevertheless, he took it. He gave a nod as they exited the tavern, Kal giving them a little wave as they left. Verona still seemed a little miffed but warmed up with the early sun on her face.

Outside was beginning to smell a little rank. Most of the dead Mole Rats had not been removed. Only those that were directly in the way had been moved, creating a strange series of snaking paths through the dead bodies. The red paths were a little disturbing. Verona groaned as she dug her fingers into her arms, trying to use the pain to overcome the feelings of elation that were travelling through her body. After taking another deep breath she calmed down again.

In front of the tavern stood Virgil and his Bandit Hunters, already mounted on their eager looking horses. They straightened their backs at seeing them approach. A few gripped them tight on the pommel of their swords. It was probably out of instinct, they knew there was probably little they could do against them in an outright fight. Anton was sure that Kal could take down most of them herself after seeing how she dealt with eight Orcs.

“Morning.” Anton said as he approached Virgil. “Seems that we aren't the most popular people anymore. I thought they would have been trying everything to get us to stay.”

Virgil shrugged. “What can you do about these provincial people? You saved their lives and now they're acting like they're next to die. Even though you've only helped them. Superstitious idiots. You could have just let them all die and deal with them yourselves. But don't worry, the people in the cities are far better bred and cultured than these idiots who decided to build on a Mole Rat nest.”

Virgil seemed to have had a change of heart since last night. It was a bit of a gamble to travel with them, they probably thought they were just some travelling fools, but now he spoke a bit more formally and respect.

“Um...Mr. Mage?” A voice came from behind.

They turned around and saw the small boy leading their horses towards him. Verona smiled and took the reins off the kid. The moment that she had taken them he ran away back to the tavern, keeping one eye behind him. Verona sighed, shook her head and brought the horses to them.

“I thought they would at least be able to say something like thanks. We did save their lives after all.” Verona grumbled. Anton ruffled her hair as he took his horse.

“We've got people coming.” Kal pointed to the side of village, opposite of where the Mole Rats attacked from.

It appeared to be nearly every person in the village of Soulthor, minus the ones still in the tavern. They walked like they were preparing to confess to someone they loved. Or to a horrific crime. It made them all a little anxious. They stopped a few meters away, those at the front had large baskets infront of them.

“Is there anything we can do to convince you to stay?” One asked.

Anton looked into the baskets. In it was a selection of dried meats and fruit, more than enough to live a week on comfortably. He saw that the others were filled with the similar items.

“We can give you anything to stay. Even my daughter.” Another said, a middle aged woman. She grabbed a young girl, a little younger than Verona, and thrust her forward towards him. The daughter didn't look too thrilled by the proposition. Verona looked at Anton incredulously while Kal grumbled. This was not something that he could entertain, even jokingly, if he didn't want to be slapped very hard.

“I'm afraid that I cannot stay or accept your gifts.” Anton said, to the dismay of the villagers and the awkward relief of the girl. “You need your food and people far more than I do. We need to keep moving to Porswea. I can only wish you luck in your future.”

“What about the Mole Rats?” The young girl asked. “Will they be back?”

Everyone looked at the piles of dead bodies. Now there was nothing alive or moving in the mass now.

“Not for a little while.” Anton replied. “But, you should all prepare as best you can. Everyone should be able to fight when the time comes. Even if you are not a match for a professional soldier you will have a fighting chance.”

The villagers remained silent. He didn’t know what they could have said. Anton got light shrugs from Verona and Kal. They weren't planning on staying in the village in the first place. There was virtually nothing that they could gain by staying here.

Anton looked to Virgil who nodded as they mounted their horses.

“Good luck.” Kal said as they passed.

The villagers remained silent as they exited the village. Anton hoped that, if they would come back through here, they would be alright. There were a lot of Mole Rats that ran away and were still lurking in the forest.

---[]---

When Soulthor was out of sight Virgil laughed in relief. He looked back to Anton, Verona and Kal, who were at the back of the small group, and slowed so he was alongside them.

“How did you do that?” He asked Anton and Verona.

“Magic?” Anton asked, a slow nod from Virgil.

“I couldn't see a charm on either of you.” Virgil said. “And you don't look like a mage.”

“Is it the clothes?” Verona asked.

Virgil nodded, a tiny quiver of fear flashed over his face. “It is. You can normally see one from a hundred miles away. Always walking like they've got a stick up their arse.” He tried his best to imitate a pompous walk on his horse.

Anton chuckled. “I hope that we aren't ever going to be like that. But what we know isn't much. Being isolated in the mountains means that there's only so much that we can learn. Does Porswea have books on magic?”

Virgil frowned as he scrutinised them deeply. Did he believe their story? He finally shrugged, let out the tiniest sigh, and looked forward.

“Of course. Porswea has a large magical academy. They'll have books on magic. Just about every type imaginable. Either that or you could go to a magic tome store. You'll find them near the academy. I don't know how much they cost, or how much money you've got, but that's something you're going to sort out yourself.”

“Books on everything?” Verona asked.

“I haven't been their myself, but I'm sure they'll have knowledge about everything. Even your...magic.

“That's interesting.” Anton nodded. “We'll need to stop by there. So do the rulers control this academy, or-”

Kal started behaving oddly, taking deep sniffs at the air.

“What's wrong?” Verona asked, leaning forward.

“Smoke.” Kal replied. “Fresh smoke. But not from a stove. I can smell burning leather and paper. Spices and thick oils.”

Anton sniffed at the air. Now that she had mentioned it he could smell something on the air. It was definitely smoke, and there was something else. Even without his enhancements he heard something underneath the rustling of the leaves. A slight clinking of metal striking metal. Then a loud shout. Virgil nodded to the Bandit Hunters and they drew their swords and readied their bows.

“We've become all too familiar with that sound.” Virgil said, his face turning into a scowl. “Bandits. I know we got most of them in this region, bit it seems that those rats find somewhere to crawl out of.”

He turned back to Anton. “I know that you three are not a part of this, hopefully, but could you three help us with our job? Help save some poor people from a terrible fate?”

Anton had already decided on yes, but he looked at Verona and Kal. Both nodded furiously.

“Sure.” Anton replied. “We'll help. But I want you to put in a good word for us to the rulers if you get the chance.”

Virgil nodded and charged forward, everyone else close behind.

Barely a minute later of hard riding they came across the bandits. The bandits were assaulting a caravan of what appeared to be brightly coloured merchants riding large Ix drawn caravans. Bright yellow, blue and red clothes darted about as men and women desperately fought off an overwhelming mass of bandits, even the caravan's guards were equipped with flamboyant armour with bright fluttering clothes underneath. Anton received a flash back to the Orc from Qaiviel, Zig. So too did Kal as she squeaked in surprise. Thankfully it was clear who the bandits were. There were over forty of the bandits; dressed in rough animal skins mixed with patches of peasant clothes, dirty bodies covered in fresh blood, all wearing a murderous smile as they swung their dull and rusty weapons with tremendous strength but no skill.

The merchants, and their colourful guards, were slowly faltering. They were outnumbered three to one and yet were still holding on. Anton admired their determination and strength.

“Who are those?” Verona asked. “They look like that...” Verona stopped and glanced at Kal. Kal remained unmoving, her hand was gripping tight onto the hilt of her daggers.

“Um...Anton?” Virgil said, glancing towards him as he drew his sword. “Can you use your magic from here?”

Virgil looked at Verona and Kal. “I do not doubt the strength of you magics, but...”

Verona huffed. “I can do that pretty safely. My magic isn't that messy. Though they might think that I might be a bad guy.” She looked at Anton. “Knock 'em dead, Grand Mage.”

Verona's grin widened from ear to ear, even Kal chuckled at hearing his assigned name. Anton rubbed her head and turned to the fight infront of them. He whipped the reins of his horse and rode closer. While his lightning bolts could kill the bandits with ease there was still a chance that he could miss at such a large distance. That would make things a little awkward.

When they were almost in range one of the merchant guards stopped and looked towards him. He nearly received a blunted rusted sword to the face but deflected it effortlessly, countering and thrusting his own sword through the throat of the bandit. The bandits at the back of the group turned around and shouted when they saw them approach.

Anton raised his hand and fired lightning bolts at the bandits he could safely get. The lightning arced and writhed through the air, hitting the dirty bandits in the back or sides. They screamed as the lightning tore through their light armour and into their flesh. The flamboyant merchants backed away and kept their swords and shields raised.

“Run!” A bandit cried out. Anton fired a bolt at him as ran, hitting him in the leg and blowing the entire limb off. His body continued moving until he needed to step again, the stump having nowhere near the length to reach. He stumbled, all his weight travelling through his wound as it smacked into the ground, and screamed in pain. The remaining bandits began to flee.

Virgil turned to his men. “Run them down. Capture them if you can.”

The Bandit Hunters cheered and gave chase. Some were mounted archers, striking some down as they chased them into the thin forests. A few seconds passed and the merchants sighed in relief, many cheering as they hugged each other. They had survived. Now their eyes drifted to their saviours, full of worry and apprehension. Who were their saviours and what would they want in return?

“Thank you, most gracious of saviours.” The merchant guard, who first saw Anton, bowed deeply as he spoke, one arm swinging wide as he right foot lightly tapped the back of his left. “You have saved myself, my family, my business and my future prospects. For that, you have my eternal gratitude. And any and all favour that I may curry with the Holy Father for your most gracious actions saving us from those heathanous scoundrels.”

The man looked up. He was a relatively handsome man, but his features were different to the few people that he had seen in Graterious. His face was a little more rounded, dark red hair cut short only with his beard cut to a barely perceptible length, a dark red moustache that the ends turned into a little twirl. Two grey eyes, nearly shinning in the early light of the sun, studied them intently as he looked back up.

Virgil chuckled. “You seem lost, friend. Far more so than...” He looked back at Anton. “These people.”

The merchant guard smiled wildly, thrusting his sword into the ground. “Forgive me for saying this, men and ladies of Graterious, but your land is utterly bewildering and confusing.” He waved to the forest surrounding them. “Forest, trees, forest and then more forest. Only a few places where grasslands intersect, and then it's back to these maddening and confusing forests.”

Virgil frowned and looked towards all three of them. “Well, forests cover most of the east of Graterious. But your story makes even less sense than theirs. What are you doing so far south?”

The man's dark red eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Where are my manners?” He coughed and rested both hands on his hips, puffing out his chest. “My name is Duran de Yscar. Merchant Prince of Bebbezar.”

“You're a prince?” Kal asked, her mask looking between Duran and the damaged caravan behind him. Verona nodded as well.

“My...Ladies. I-”

“He's not a prince.” Virgil cut in, Duran huffing in response. “Not a real one, at any rate.”

“We don't know the difference.” Verona said to Virgil.

“Right. Well, Bebbezar has a royal family in the normal sense. But those with enough wealth can call themselves a Merchant Prince. It doesn't mean that they have any royal blood running through their veins.”

“I take offence to that, my good man.” Duran pointed an armoured finger at Virgil. “Four of my ancestors are directly related to the Great-”

“Nobody cares.” Virgil cut him off, shaking his head and throwing up a hand to stop Duran. He turned to Anton and smiled bitterly. “These Bebbezar types do tend to prattle on once you get them started. We might as well make camp if we got they try to tell us why they're so damn important.”

“But it's still barely morning.” Verona said. Virgil nodded. “Wow.”

Duran had recovered, his pout replaced by a smile. “Unfortunately, as I was saying before, we have been lost for some days. At least in the rolling clear hills of Bebbezar you can always find your way. We had to flee a Ghlotsm horde when we were finally making headway towards a city by the name of Porswea.” He glanced back to the caravan. “We've been lucky that we've only lost some cargo and not one of my companions.”

What's a Ghlotsm? Another beast or monster endemic to Graterious? I'll ask when we're on the move again.

Virgil smiled as he saw the Bandit Hunters return. Their horses were covered in blood, thankfully not their own, but looked eager and ready for more. The same could be said about the men on their backs. One at the back had a beaten and blood man tied to a rope trailing behind.

“We managed to catch one.” The Bandit Hunter scowled. “Two managed to get away. I'm sorry.”

Virgil shrugged. “That's the way it goes. We managed to get most of them, so that's enough for now. We'll just have to let Lord Cassius know that this area isn't completely cleaned out yet.”

The bandit was thrown infront of Duran. He barely kept himself awake as blood poured out of a dozen wounds on his chest. Duran looked up, a confused brow dramatically raised on his face.

“You were the one that they tried to kill and rob.” Virgil nodded to the dying bandit. “We don't need him for information. There's nothing he would know anyway. His life is yours.”

Duran frowned as he looked down at the bandit. The bandit looked up, throwing up a desperate shaking hand, as he pleaded for mercy through bloody breaths. Duran sighed and shook his head.

“As a Merchant Prince of Bebbezar, I am a man of honour and virtue. And I am not going to strike down someone so clearly on the verge of death. Even if they are a despicable and pathetic villain such as yourself.”

The bandit relaxed.

“But doesn't mean I have to save your worthless hide.”

Duran lent down and picked up the bandit, nearly effortlessly as he was much stronger than he seemed, and carried him to the edge of the path and deep into the forest. He ignored the weak protests of the bandit and left him sitting against a tree. As he came back, ignoring the cries of the bandit, he shrugged to their confused stares.

“I will not strike him down.”

Anton hummed, so too did Verona and Kal. At least it wasn't as brutal as the Gravestone.

“Can your...caravan move?” Virgil asked Duran.

Duran looked back, receiving nods from the other brightly clothed people. “We can. We can't move as fast as you on horseback, but we will endeavour to try.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, you wanted to head to Porswea. And, as it turns out, so are the rest of us. If you are willing to cook for us we'll take that as payment for saving you.”

Duran looked towards Anton. He was the one who had used the lightning.

“Travelling in a large group would be safer than splitting up, especially with this many bandits on the road. I would also like to ask you a few questions while we travel.” Anton looked back at Verona and Kal. “There's a lot that's happened in the world that we need to catch up on.”

Duran raised a brow but didn't object. He bowed flamboyantly again. “Thank you. Our culinary skills are the best in the land. We will not disappoint.”

Virgil chuckled as the Bandit Hunters moved to assist the Bebbezar merchants get ready. Verona and Kal rode either side of Anton.

“Do we want to be travelling with these people?” Kal asked. Anton turned, seeing her raise a hand in apology. “I'm not saying it's the right, or wrong, choice but this many people, with those slow carts, will make a lot of noise. There's a much higher chance that we'll be spotted and attacked by beasts and monsters.”

Kal started fidgeting at the reins. “And I do like...being free.”

Anton held her hand, Kal entwining her fingers with his own. “I think this will be a good chance to get allies in Graterious. That could help us get to Seocuria much more quickly, if we have someone to vouch for us rather than having to go alone. We shouldn't turn down potential help.”

Kal sighed. “I know. I just like being able to strip down some times.”

Verona chuckled. “Me too. But we'll find somewhere in Porswea to rent, somewhere better than that tavern back there, and then we can have some fun for a few days.” Verona leered at Kal's backside. “Where I can play with that again.”

Kal groaned as she shook her head. However, Anton could see that her ears were twitching in happiness.

“Okay.” One of the Bebbezar merchants shouted out. “We're ready to go.”

The caravans started to rumbled back onto the path towards the north east. Virgil gave them a glance before following the merchants. Anton whipped the reins lightly and the horses started to move. They remained at the back travelling in silence for nearly a minute before Verona gently reached for Anton's hand.

“So, are we going to be doing what we did the other night? Where we try and find out information?”

Anton nodded. “It's a good idea. I would like to speak with that Duran man. If he's come from Bebbezar that means that he's probably travelled through Seocuria.” Anton felt Kal's restrained anger at that place being mentioned. “It'll be a good chance to find out what's been happening there since you left.”

Kal nodded. “I...I should come with you. I don't want to hear about that place but I know that I need to deal with that. I'll also know if they're lying about that place. Like if the Beast-kin are all free and happy, I'll let you know that he's lying.”

“Okay then.”

Kal coughed awkwardly. “Also I don't think that many people are going to open up to me wearing this.”

Her cloth wrapped fingers lightly scraped at the white mask.

Verona just laughed. “I don't know about that. But, afterwards you could try. The worst that happens is that they don't speak to you. I don't think they're going to ask you to remove the mask.”

“So.” Kal looked around Anton to Verona. “Who will you be talking with?”

“I'll talk to the women in the caravan. They might be more willing to talk with a woman, like me, and not the Grand Mage that effortlessly took out nearly twenty bandits. They might be a bit afraid or intimidated.”

“You might want to hurry on that.” Kal said, getting an odd look from both of them. “If Virgil, or one of the other Bandit Hunters, tells them what you did in Soulthor I don't think that they won't want to speak with you.”

Verona nodded deeply as she held her chin. “That they wont.” She turned and smiled to them. “Alright. I'll get on it before they start to chat. We'll catch up at lunch unless we see each other before then.”

Verona lent over and pulled Anton down for a kiss. She whipped the reins and moved to the other side of Kal, also giving her a kiss on the top of her mask. Verona whispered in her ear, both girls chuckled, then waved back as she caught up with the caravans. She began speaking with some of the women from Bebbezar, a few were guards, offering her hand for them to shake. When they shook Anton focused himself forward.

“Come on Kal. We need to do our part as well.”

Kal nodded furiously as they picked up pace. They moved to the other side of the cart that Verona was talking at, they heard a laugh from her and a woman as they passed, and towards the cart at the front of the caravan. That was where he had seen Duran go.

When they arrived at the front he found Duran sitting to the side of a woman holding the reins, what he presumed to be his wife. A slim and attractive middle aged woman. She wore the same coloured flamboyant clothes as Duran, the same dark red hair kept short in a bob. When Anton sidled along the cart the woman bumped Duran's arm, who was thoroughly captivated by her, and nodded towards them.

Duran turned and smiled when he saw them. “Hello my friends. Our saviors. I'm afraid that I have been continuously rude to all...three, of you. I haven't asked for your names or given my personal thanks.” Duran looked behind them for Verona. “Where, where is your silver haired friend?”

“She's at the back of the caravan.” Anton replied, Duran smiling in return. “My name is Anton, this is Kal, and the silver haired woman is Verona.”

“My pleasure to meet you all. Anton, the Lightning Mage.”

I wonder if they'll call me Grand Mage if they see me using all my powers.

Duran offered his hand to shake, which Anton took. It was rough and firm but he didn't try and rip Anton's hand off. He offered it to Kal who shook her head.

“Ah, my companion is a bit...” Anton trailed off at the end.

Duran looked quite shocked. “My apologies. I never mean to intrude on someone else's space or body without permission.”

Kal nodded once. At least she wasn't going to be exposed right now.

“This is my wife, Eluria de Yscar, the most fine woman a man like me could ever hope to aspire to marry.”

Eluria bowed her head. “Thank you...Anton, for saving us.” She looked him over, studying the both of them. “You were the one that used the lightning, yes?”

Anton nodded. “I did. I didn't think it was right to just leave you to the predations of those bandits.”

“For that we are very thankful.” Duran bowed his head again. “But, what is someone that can use such powerful magic so easily doing out this far from a city? Forgive me for saying this but you don't look like a mage.”

Well, we should keep the story straight.

“We haven't been away from the mountains for some time.” Anton began. “We are only just returning to civilisation after a long time. That means that we couldn't buy new clothes so we need to use what we found, caught and made. But, spending so long away from other people, it means that we have become a little out of touch with what is happening in the lands below. Perhaps you could help us with that.”

“Certainly!” Duran exclaimed. “After what you have done for us we have no right to refuse. Not that I would anyway. A man from the Yscar family would never miss an opportunity to talk with someone that he owes a great debt. I would like to think-”

Eluria bumped his arm, a thin smile on her face as she looked forward. Duran sighed as he rubbed her leg. “Forgive me. My wife says that, if I get going, I tend to talk and talk without end. I, personally, don't think-”

He was bumped again, this time he smiled again. They seemed to love each other quite a bit.

“We've managed to find out a bit about what's happening in Graterious.” Anton began. “A Triumvirate between three noble lords that keep the royal family on top and the country together. But I know nothing of the lands beyond Graterious, beyond what I can see on a map.”

“Well.” Duran straightened out his brightly coloured armoured legs. “I suppose that I should start with the land that I know best, my-our homeland.” Anton noticed the tiny wince in Duran's eyes, one of Eluria's hands had jabbed him in the side. “How can I best describe the land of Bebbezar...A large and bright open land, rolling grasslands filled with orchards and farms growing such delectable things you wouldn't have tasted before. The bright sun is nearly always shinning, the people happy and peaceful. Artisans and craftsmen make things of unparalleled beauty and quality. Always something to do and something to trade. I cannot do it justice with my words. There's no place quite like in the Shattered Kingdoms.”

Sounds a bit like a tourist advertisement. But, how would you really describe a place like the land around Atros? Grasslands, a lake in the distance and a mountain looming over it? Anyway, it sounds like it'll be a good place to visit.

Duran sighed as he closed his eyes, clearly reminiscing about home.

“Why did you come here then?” Anton asked. “Graterious is a long way from Bebbezar, at least according the maps I've seen.”

“It is.” Duran replied. Eluria's face turned crestfallen as she shook it barely perceptibly. “Even though the land is glorious...But, there are some tough times back home. Very tough and dangerous times. We've had to leave to make our fortune elsewhere.”

Kal made a noise, the beginning of a word. She looked to Anton, who nodded lightly, and she coughed to gather their attention.

“W...Was it bandits?” Kal asked.

Duran shook his head. “No, my masked dear. I only wish that it was something as simple as those bandits you so graciously killed for us. Again, I am thankful for that.”

“So no bandits?” Anton asked.

“No.” Eluria replied, Duran smiling as he rested against her shoulder. “That wasn't it. But there are some very dangerous bandits on the eastern side of Bebbezar. They aren't like these ones you fought off for us.” She shook her head. “They are more like an army. Large and pervasive in the east. A whole bunch of angry people that hate people with money. I heard them in one of the captured cities at the border with Seocuria. They were talking about how the workers and labourers should rise up and overthrow the king. To take back their lands...And then what?”

Eluria chuckled. “I...asked them, It was stupid to even raise my voice, what they would do once they overthrew the king. They said it would become a paradise. But when I asked them how they were going to do that they just got mad at me. They didn't have an answer as others began to ask the same question. Everyone there realised they were just angry men acting like children, angry at their lot in life. We've lost more than they've ever had, but we...” Eluria patted Duran's arm. “We manage to keep our smile. We have to, for everyone's sake. Otherwise we'll become hateful like them.”

Those bandits sound something like a communist style uprising. Kal mentioned something abut that after showing us that cave. I don't know if that can be useful to us, but something we'll need to keep an eye out if we get to Bebbezar.

“I'm glad that you managed to get through in one piece.”

Duran laughed. “Ha. Those people slinked back into the trees when we showed them some steel and arrows. For all their talk they aren't very brave.”

Kal made a little noise. “Why do you wear such bright colours?” Kal asked. “If you were trying to evade bandits or beasts and monsters...I could have spotted you a mile away without even trying. Why not wear something like this?”

She gestured to her armour and cloth wrappings. Compared to their bright blues, yellows and reds, Kal's grey and brown clothes were basically camouflage. Kal could hide in the bushes and forests and no one would know of her presence. That was exactly why she had chosen to wear those coloured clothes, though not to the extent that she had to wear them.

Duran huffed, even Eluria looked marginally miffed. “Even if Bebbezar was to fall into the sea and consumed by fire I wouldn't stop wearing these. These clothes are made by the weavers of Bebbezar, of colours, varieties and better quality than any of the other kingdoms and empires can match. We wear these like you would your skin. I feel uncomfortable without them. There is no way I would stop being proud of my heritage, not even at the point of a sword.”

Anton hummed. He had heard of nationalistic pride before, but never heard it being said to him like this.

Surely they would change their bright colours in a war...I wonder if that Clansmen, Ivano, would know more. If they actually fight wearing such bright colours. I wonder how he's going?

“So...” Kal shook her head. “But you look still like a giant target for bandits and monsters to hunt. I don't understand...”

Duran shrugged. He wasn't going to budge on the issue. “My dear, this is our way of life. And nothing will change that.”

“I must visit Bebbezar one day, see what your country has to offer. According to the maps I've seen there's another country between Bebbezar and Graterious.” Anton said. “Seocuria.”

He heard Kal grip tight on her reins. Neither Duran or Eluria appeared to notice.

“Yes.” Duran nodded. “A fine place. A very nice place to visit. If you're travelling to Bebbezar, you must stop there. I'm sure that you'll find it completely and utterly fascinating. So many little critters running around.”

Kal made the tiniest noise, her body moving forward like she was about to yell something, but she held herself back. She didn't want to ruin any chance of rescuing her mother and her people.

“What's it like?” Anton asked. “I've only heard a few things about Seocuria. The maps really don't show that much.”

“Well, how can I describe it...” Duran rubbed his chin again. “Okay. It's an arid land, with lush life for several miles either side of the many rivers that run down from the mountains of the Deweth Clans. The arable land is filled with massive plantations and farms. Around those are hundreds of cheap workshops and weavers. Their quality is nothing like Bebbezar or even Graterious but it's so cheap compared to everyone else. So, if you need to get a lot of cheap, and not very good, things it's the place to go. But I know you'll find this interesting, especially after being away from other people for so long. They're the only place that, bizarrely, keeps Beast-kin alive and working as slaves rather than removing them entirely. Them and Graterious. They just work the beasts hard as well, but they don't let them breed.”

Anton kept his face under control. He didn't look back to Kal, just in case it gave something away. He knew that she would be very angry of hearing his words. Eluria didn't make any reaction that she was offended by his words.

Bloody hell. No...This sounds like it might be the normal reaction that people have in this world. It's just us...well, myself and Verona right now, that like them. I'm sure the others have warmed up to Kal by now. But this...this is how Kal has had to live? I'll need to pamper her a lot when I get the chance.

Wait a second. If Seocuria didn't enslave them and killed them like everyone else seemed to have, does that mean that they could all be gone? Bloody hell. Humans can be real dicks when they want to be.

“Beast-kin?” Anton asked, getting an odd look from Duran. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, right. Beast-kin are the personification of our most vile sins, sent by the most gracious Holy Father to remind us of our failings. To remind us to keep our faith and that humans are the superior beings. Not that it's hard to see why they're inferior. Twisted parts of beasts and monsters forced into human forms. Some are giant things covered in fur, others barley as big as my leg that scurry about like rats. Damn smelly things too. Very smelly.”

“Hmm.”

Anton had heard this sort of thing before when he revealed Kal to the new bondsmen at Atros. Though that time he had Raston perform a little crowd manipulation so things didn't get out of hand. He didn't want to say anything yet. He glanced back at Kal, though he couldn't see her face he could tell that she was fuming on the inside. She must have heard this every time she met a human that didn't just attack her straight away. How she didn't go insane over the years was something he didn't understand. He wouldn't have had the strength she has.

Duran smiled as he lent back. “But, thanks to those disgusting creatures, we managed to make quite a bit of coin. They always need someone to move them about from one plantation to another.”

Kal was furious underneath her cloak. Here was a man that engaged in slavery, only thinking about the money he could make from it. Though Anton reasoned that why most people would deal in that trade. That, or power or desperation.

“It wasn't dangerous work.” Duran continued. “Though, at least we didn't have to worry about any bandits attacking us while we moved throughout the land. Bandits don't last long in Seocuria. It's very interesting what they do to them, you'll like this.” Duran leaned closer to Anton. “They don't hang them or kill them. They offer them a choice to be enslaved alongside the Beast-kin or kill themselves. Most kill themselves, usually with a blunted rusted sword. Doesn't say much for the Beast-kin, does it? That people would rather be dead than work alongside them.”

Is this just the casual racism against Beast-kin that everyone has? How rare is someone like me, or Verona, for that matter?

Kal grumbled lightly. Anton decided to change the subject a little, if to stop Duran from inadvertently insulting Kal before she lost her cool.

“So why did you come here to Graterious?” Anton asked.

“We heard in Seocuria that there was some good money to make in Graterious.” Duran's smile faded. “That and the tough times have followed us from Bebbezar.”

That sounds like your being pursued by someone, and not those communist bandits, and that's why you ended up in Seocuria. Doesn't explain why you haven't got rid off your bright coloured clothes. If I was on the run that's the fist thing I would have done. I don't get these people.

“I hope you have better luck in Graterious.” Anton said. “Are you going to establish some sort of business in Porswea?”

Both nodded. “I certainly hope so.” Duran replied. “It'll be difficult, I'm sure, but we aren't defeated just yet.”

“If we ever come back I'll have to try and find you. I'm sure that finding a Bebbezar Merchant Prince in Porswea wouldn't be too hard.”

Duran laughed as he looked forward.

“How are the roads to the north?” Anton asked. “If we were to head to Seocuria and Bebbezar, how safe are the roads?”

Duran looked back at Virgil and his Bandit Hunters. “If I'm very honest, not very good. I would advise you to travel with an armoured caravan. If at all. There are lots of bandits on the roads and there's always the chance that you could be attacked by Deweth Clansmen raiders from the north. Those frost warriors make my bones feel weak. Terrifying lumbering men and women, though I'm sure that you know all about them.”

“What about the sea?” Kal asked. “Are there many pirates out there?”

Duran glanced back at Eluria. She waved a free hand. “There are a few, but nowhere near as many as there are on the land. It would be...relatively safe out there, if you intend to travel.”

“Good to know.” Kal mumbled. She lowered her head, both Bebbezzarians shrugging at her actions.

I can find out what the others think about the Clansmen. Find what they think of them.

“You said something about Deweth Clansmen.” Anton began. “I saw in the map that they are in the center of all these Kingdoms and Empires. Does that make them a trading hub or something?”

Duran and Eluria laughed, an honest loud laugh. It was loud enough that the Bandit Hunters and the other members of their merchant caravan looked over.

“No.” Duran shook his head, wiping away a tear in his eye. “Oh, Anton, the Lightning Mage, you made this whole day's bad events worthwhile. No, they are not traders. Raiders. That's all those people are.”

“It's a shame.” Eluria added. “I've met two that aren't raiders, and they were very nice people. Though that was all of them.”

Ivano and Brenna seemed like nice people, if you weren't on the other end of their axes.

“They raid all the surrounding Kingdoms and Empires for people and valuables. Well, almost all of them.”

“Someone has made a deal with them?” Kal asked. She focused her mind so she wouldn't think about Duran's casual racism towards Beast-kin.

“Seocuria has.” Duran replied. “They pay them in gold and slaves to keep them away, and get some interesting things in return. They're the only people the Clansmen can trade with. But what I really meant they can't raid the dead. By that I mean the Kar Kingdom.”

“An entire Kingdom is dead?” Anton asked. “It's not on my maps that it's gone. How and when did that happen?”

Duran shrugged. “I don't know but it happened about thirty to forty winters ago. From what I know it just seemed to fall apart when a Goblin horde tore through their lands from the south. My heart weeps for those poor souls that were overtaken by those horrid little creatures.”

“You have them in Bebbezar?”

“Oh yes. Though just the Green and Yellow varieties. Not those Blue or Black ones. As long as you don't let them grow into big numbers they aren't really a threat. Good to train your tactics and sword arm on though.”

“That's good to know.” Anton said. “We've come across a few in our time. None have been particularly friendly.”

“No they are not. So, Anton, and Kal, what are you hoping to find in Porswea? You seem like you could survive in the wilderness easily and not need the trappings of city life.”

Kal perked up. That was her specialty, honed over years in the wilds. She seemed quite happy to be praised inadvertently.

“A number of things.” Anton replied. “Things that will help us immensely.”

Duran has said that he's a follower of the Church of the Holy Father. And they aren't too keen on the Old Gods. We got away with it in Qaiviel and Soulthor because of Verona's and my sheer magical power. They wouldn't risk their lives against it. And we left pretty quickly.

Duran smiled knowingly. “Everyone has their reasons. A man of Bebbezar won't pry into another's purpose without good reason. And doing that to our saviors would leave a mark on my reputation and heart that I couldn't remove.”

Anton smiled and nodded. As Duran looked forward, Anton reached over and gently held Kal's hand. Her body was trembling in a strangely calm anger, his touch calmed her a little. They continued in silence, the noise from the horses hooves and the creaking and rattling of the carts filling their ears.

Chapter 074. Vol 3 - Weathered Thin

Chapter 074:

When the sun was sinking low when everyone in the caravan stopped to make camp to the side of the forest path in a small clearing. Judging by some ash and charcoal lying in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by a small ring of stones, this was a relatively well used stop. In order for them to make good time they didn't stop for lunch and barely stopped to refill their water supplies. Anton was glad that they were finally stopping. His back and butt was sore from riding on his horse, everyone else seemed to be dealing with it better. If Kal or Verona were feeling tired or sore they were toughing it out.

As the Bebbezar merchants started to prepare the night's dinner, while the Bandit Hunters secured the perimeter, it left Anton and the two girls with not a lot to do. Before he could offer to help with dinner Verona flew out of nowhere, crashed into his side and hugged him deeply. Kal, looking in the opposite direction, reached for her dagger to stop the perceived threat. She had already drawn the blade and turned before she realised who it was.

“Don't do that.” Kal grumbled as she folded her arms and growled at Verona. “I though you were attacking him. If I'd been closer...”

“Sorry.” Verona said to both of them. “I got a bit carried away there. Those brightly coloured people, the Bebbezarian people, do like to talk. And talk. But it was all very interesting.”

“Did you find something out?” Anton asked, rubbing her head.

Verona nodded and took a step back. “I think I did. But tell me what you found out first.”

Anton and Kal told Verona everything they had found out. She was a little disturbed to hear about the casual racism towards Beast-kin. Thankfully she didn't hold it too much against them.

When they were done Verona shook her head and sighed. “That's disappointing. They're all so fluffy and squishy.” Anton saw one of her hands clenching at the air, Kal groaned and moved closer to Anton. “Well, the one I know is very squishy. I don't know why they would hate that. But, whatever. Although...It seems that you managed to find out more than I did.”

“You were gone for most of the day.” Kal said, slightly cocking her head.

Verona chuckled. “What can I say? They love to talk about nothing.”

“Duran's wife stopped him from doing that. I’m guessing that it might have taken all day to get that much information out of him otherwise.”

Anton looked towards the center of their small encampment. He could see Duran and Eluria, still in their brightly coloured clothes, preparing food for the nights meal. They seemed quite in love, despite the hardships they were fighting. Perhaps it made it stronger. His eye wear drawn to an armoured Bebbezar soldier kneeling in the center of the encampment, a sheathed sword and large shield resting on the ground nearby, swearing repeatedly as they desperately tried to light a fire with two pieces of flint. They were struggling and only becoming more incensed with every passing moment. Apart from the struggling soldier everyone else seemed to be doing well.

“Should we try and help out with dinner?” Verona asked. “I'm sure that we can do something other than look important...Like I'm sure the nobles of Graterious do.”

She looked to Kal who lightly shrugged. Kal probably wouldn't know how the nobles of Graterious would act, though if Qaiviel was anything to go by Verona's assumption wouldn't be too far off the mark. They approached the Bebbezar merchants as they continued to prepare the food. Duran rose his head up and smiled, his hands were lightly stained by the preparation of the food and he resisted the temptation to wipe his hands on his bright clothes.

“Anton, Lady Verona and Lady Kal.” he began. “Do you require something?”

“We were wondering if we could help out with dinner in any way.” Anton said. “We're kind of standing around doing if we're not helping.”

“We cannot ask something like that of you.” Duran smiled.

“You're not asking.” Verona replied. “We're asking.”

Duran, just as he was about to open his mouth again, received a light jab to his side from Eluria. He glanced to her and back to them, slowly nodding. “Well...If you truly wish to help then I suppose that you could help cut up some of the potatoes.” Duran motioned with his elbow to a small pile of the uncut vegetables.

“We'll be glad to help.” Anton said.

The Bebbezarian's regarded Kal with some suspicion, more about the cloth wrappings covering her fingers, so she decided just to pass them the uncut potatoes. That left Anton and Verona to help cut up the vegetables in silence. When they were nearly done something poked him from behind.

“Excuse me.” came a young voice. Anton turned to see a young woman from the Bebbezar merchant caravan standing behind them with an empty metal pot. She was a head shorter than Anton and wore the bright blue, yellow and red clothes of their people, though without any ornate armour. She had the same dark red hair as the rest of the Bebbezarian's, and a soft face that seemed to be a mix between Duran and Eluria. She looked quite pretty and smiled sweetly at Anton. Duran smiled as he became aware of her presence. Was she their daughter?

Before Anton could ask anything Duran perked up and laughed. “Ah, you haven't met our daughter yet, have you?” the man asked. Anton shook his head. “This is Sancha de Yscar.”

“Hello.” she bowed her head. “Thank you for saving us from those bandits.”

“It wasn't a problem.” Anton said. “We would have come to your aid even if we planned to part immediately.”

Verona peered around Anton to look up at Sancha. “Did you come with your parents all this way?”

Sancha nodded. “I did...It's been quite a journey.”

“I bet.” Anton said. “I know this might be a little presumptuous of me to ask but do you think that your troubles will follow you this far?”

All three looked a little awkward but eventually nodded. “I don't think so.” Duran said. “We are as far away as we can get before we leave the Shattered Kingdoms. And that's a very dangerous journey to make. No to mention expensive.”

“That's the last of them.” Kal said, handing the last potato to Verona. She carved through the vegetable with ease. Anton wondered if she wanted to use her blood power to make things quicker. The crystallised blood didn't leave any stains.

“Thank you, Lady Verona.” Sancha took all the potatoes and shovelled them into the metal pot. Her eyes stopped when she saw Kal. “Um...Lady Kal.” she glanced at her father and mother. “Can I ask why you wear the mask?”

Kal's mask twitched towards Anton before looking back at Sancha. “I...I burned myself, very badly when I was young.”

Sancha looked rather horrified, her face twisted into an apology. “I'm sorry to hear that. And I'm sorry to have asked and make you remember.”

Kal shrugged. “It happened a long time ago. I try not to think about it.”

Sancha made an awkward smile and bowed her head once. A shout came from the center of the encampment. Sancha frowned and looked up at the Bebbezar soldier crouched down over the unlit fire, still striking at what appeared to be flint in a desperate attempt to get a fire lit. Even though Anton couldn't hear the words being spoken, but just by their body language, the guard was becoming increasingly angry and frustrated.

“How much longer is she going to take?” Eluria sighed as she looked up at the back of the struggling guard. Anton felt a little embarrassed that he first thought the guard was a young man. The guard had nearly all their skin covered with armour or clothing, and had a helm that covered at least the side of their face. He was glad that he hadn't said anything about that soldier yet.

“She doing fine.” Duran replied, a smile still on his face. “Some of that wood is a little bit wet, so it's going to take a bit to get a fire started.”

“She'd better hurry up.” Sancha grumbled as she placed the metal pot onto the wooden table. “I want to eat before darkness, this time.”

Anton caught Verona looking up at him, a silver eyebrow raised. He wished he knew what she and Kal were thinking.

“I can get it started.” Anton said.

“Lightning Mage, Anton.” Duran began, as if to punctuate the point he was making. “Forgive me for saying this but we would like a fire and not just a charred hole in the ground.”

Verona chuckled. “You don't even know the half of what he can do. Or the both of us for that matter.”

The Bebbezar merchants looked at Anton in surprise but kept quiet. If Verona was making it up they would soon find out. Anton gave Verona's hand a light squeeze, and then Kal's, before heading towards the struggling Bebbezar guard. He approached gingerly, as he really didn't know what to say, and he could make out her words better.

“Fucking piece of shit.” she grumbled in a deep woman's voice, somewhere between Verona's and Kal. “This is why I said to get the expensive stuff. But those two fucking idiots said to get this because it's cheaper. Stupid...Fucking idiots.” She shook her head as she continued to try and strike a spark. “It's all well and good for them to say to get these but they're not the ones that have to get it working every night. Stupid...”

“Um..Excuse me?” Anton said, standing a few paces behind and to the side.

The guard stopped, her body jumping underneath the bright clothing, and looked back towards him. She looked different to the other Bebbezar merchants he had seen. His first thought that entered his mind that she was a bit of a tomboy. Her face was a little more square than the others, her skin a little bit darker, about a third of the way between Verona's and Kal's skin. A deep scar ran horizontal over her nose, a few smaller ones randomly scattered over her face. The metal helm hid her hair but Anton could tell that it was kept very short. A pair of grey eyes, with large flecks of purple scattered throughout, stared back at him in a strange level of fear.

“Oh...Sorry. Um...” she remained squatting infront of the small pile of wood as she stammered, her leather gloved fingers nervously twitching at the pieces of flint. “Lightning Mage, Anton. I...” She shook her head and began to try and light the fire again. “I'm just having a bit of trouble getting this started. It won't be too much longer.” Anton moved closer to the fire and squatted down next to her, she stopped and looked towards him. “I know you've probably been hearing this all day, but thank you for saving our lives. I never thought we would have to fight so many villains like that.”

“It wasn't a problem. And we would help again, people preying on innocents like that doesn't leave a good feeling in my stomach.” she gave him an odd look but returned to attempts to light the fire. “Though I thought that you were handling them very well. You had been fighting for some time before we arrived and you looked like you were holding your own.”

She chuckled. “We did alright but we were terribly outnumbered. I didn't realise these lands had such terrible problems with the predations of bandits.”

“Neither did I.” Anton replied. She frowned, black eyebrows drawing down on her eyes.

She shook her head instead of asking whatever her question was, returning her attention to the small pile of wood. “Well, unless you can make these better...” she held up the pieces of flint. Anton didn't know what flint was supposed to look like but something about it looked a little off. “You're just going to be watching me struggle, and then watching them yell at me.”

An involuntary twitch of her head motioned behind them. Anton turned his head enough to peek out the corner of his eye. Verona and Kal were speaking with Sancha and Eluria, Kal appeared to be actively participating, which was nice to see. Both Bebbezar women were keeping their attention divided between his women and the back of the guard next to him.

“Well, I might be able to help there.” Anton said.

She raised a brow, was about to say something before shaking her head again. “How? You've got some powerful and quick lightning magic, sure, but I think that might be a little much to start a fire here without smashing apart the wood and making big holes in the ground. And you must have used so much mana to save us, so you can't just just use it so flagrantly.”

I could find out more about what mages are supposed to be like, perhaps what they are like in Bebbezar. Sounds like they don't have the anywhere near the mana supply I have. I must find more about mages...and this gem in my hand. Nobody's asked about it, I guess the magic puts all questions to rest.

Anton smiled and held out his hand infront of the wood. He formed the smallest fire ball he could. The small ball of fire bust into life infront of his hand, barely an inch wide. The guard gasped at the sight, her grey and purple flecked eyes darting up to him. She wanted to say something but watched the tiny source of heat float just past his hand. With a small amount of mana he pushed the fire ball into the wood. It exploded on contact, but it was so small that it only lit a few pieces of wood. The guard shook her head, to shake off her surprise, and moved the lit pieces of wood to concentrate the flame. When she was done, and the flames were rising and spreading throughout the rest of the wood, she looked at him with deep concern. “How...How...How can you do that?”

Anton smiled. “I know quite a few tricks.”

The guard shook her head as she closed her eyes. She picked up the pieces of flint and stuffed them into a small leather bag on her hip.

“Well, thanks for your help.” she said as she stood up. Anton was a little surprised at her height, her eyes were just a bit higher than his. “I would have been there all night with these pieces of crap. They were fucking idiots to get those.” She thrust out her leather gloved hand towards Anton. “Name's Cetina de Yscar.”

Anton shook it, a strong and firm shake. She didn't try to crush Anton's hand in the process.

“Anton. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cetina.” Anton said.“So what does that make you to Duran? Are you his daughter?”

Cetina mumbled something, her lips barely moving, but she blinked and smiled towards him, one that looked more than a little forced. “I'm his daughter. And Sancha's been adopted into the family when Eluria married my father.”

“Okay...I though you might be.” Anton looked more closely at her features on her face. “Your eyes have some purple in it and everyone else has a dark red hair and yours appears to be black. Nothing like Eluria or Sancha.”

Cetina frowned and ran her gloved hand over the rim of her helm. She frowned when she didn't feel any hair sticking out.

“Your eyebrows.” Anton said, if only to stop her confusion. “They're black.”

“Yeah.” Cetina chuckled and unfastened her helm. Underneath her black hair was kept very short, barely more than a few centimetres. What was most surprising was the hair at the front. A few patches of deep blue hair grew out of her short fringe from the middle of her head to left side of her temple, a tiny patch growing just above her right ear. It didn't seem to be dyed as it travelled all the way to her roots. At seeing Anton look closely she flushed a little and scratched at them, an awkward look on her face.

“You're right. I don't have their hair colour. I got this from my mother's side. She came from beyond the Qaiviel Kingdom, so that's why I've got this. Doesn't make the most popular girl, but...”

Anton looked at Eluria. She said something to Sancha and carried over the metal pots. Verona and Kal were now talking to Duran. Judging by Verona's face, and the way Kal's shoulders dropped, he guessed that Eluira wasn't stopping Duran from starting one very lengthy conversation.

“Yeah. She's not my mother. I...” Cetina let out a long, near silent, sigh as they approached.

“It shouldn't take this long to get a fire started.” Eluria said, a sternness to her voice. “All it took was for someone to lean over your shoulder to actually get it done.”

Anton turned to Cetina. She caught his eye, it flickered down for a second, something hidden deep within, before she fought back another sigh and looked to Eluria. “I'm sorry.” Anton saw her gloved hand brush against the leather pack where she stored the flint pieces.

“Go get the rest of the food and the metal stands.” Eluria said dismissively. Anton looked over at the table. There was quite a bit of it left, far more than what both women were carrying. Not to mention the metal stand, which Anton guessed they would hang the metal pots from, looked to be quite heavy as well. Did they want her to bring both at once?

Cetina opened her mouth the speak but shut it tight. He saw some of the muscles in her neck tense as she nodded and walked away, her fists curled tight in anger.

That's just a bomb waiting to explode in a rage. Something wrong is happening here.

Sancha shook her head and made sure that Cetina was out of earshot. “Don't worry about her. She always messes things up if she's left on her own. I kind of feel sorry for her. She can swing a sword though.”

She looked to her mother, Eluria had no change on her face as she looked to the fire. Now it was producing a generous amount of heat, more than enough to cook their food over. She placed the pot on the ground and looked towards Cetina. She had decided to ignore the food for now and take the metal stand first.

“Won't she hurry up?” Eluria said, Anton felt that it was more person talking to a servant rather than a step-daughter, if that was what she was.

Yeah, something kind of bad is happening here. I know it really doesn't affect our larger plan but I want to know.

“What's up with her, Cetina?” Anton asked, deciding to start on something relatively neutral.

“She's as ditzy as ever.” Sancha flashed him a smile. Anton felt that he had seen that sort of smile before, but couldn't quite place it. Fake. The polite and honest attitude of under a minute ago was gone.

“She's Duran's daughter from a previous marriage.” Eluria spoke softly and without emotion. All of the warmth and kindness he saw directed at Duran was gone. “A giant mistake...”

“She seems kind enough.” Anton said, watching Cetina slowly walk towards them, some of the food in her spare hand. She seemed to be struggling a little under the weight. However she persevered.

“She's just a pain most of the time.” Sancha ran her hand through her hair, flicking it out in an attempt to be seductive. If Anton was honest she was pretty, but her words were poisoning his image of her.

Anton looked at Eluria who apparently shared the sentiment of Cetina.

Well, Cetina's got a pretty shitty life here. I couldn't stay in a place like this. Maybe she feels that she's got nowhere else to go?

Cetina arrived, mumbling an apology, and struggled to arrange the metal stand while she held the wooden plate of food. Neither member of her family moved to her aid. Anton let out a mental sigh and moved forward to relieve Cetina of the plate. When his hands touched the plate, and tried to lift it, Cetina's eyes snapped up to him. First it was of deep concern and even worry before it softened. She mumbled a thanks as Anton took the plate off her hands, allowing her to get the metal stand set up properly. He caught Sancha looking quite annoyed at Anton. The moment she thought he was looking it instantly changed back.

Great. I'm sure she'll get it for this, somehow.

When Cetina was finished, giving the metal stand a final shake to make sure it was steady, she didn't even get a thanks as Sancha and Eluria hooked the metal pots over the fire.

Eluria glanced towards Cetina. “Go take care of the Ix.”

Cetina, Anton was sure, was about to say something but held back. She glanced at him before walking towards the idly grazing Ix beasts. With her gone Eluria regained the warmth and attitude she had when they first met. She smiled warmly at Anton, one that made Anton feel a little ill about her duality.

“Dinner will be ready in a little bit.” she said in her normal warm voice. “We'll take it from here. We have some wine from Seocuria that we would be glad to share.”

I'm sure Kal would be delighted to know where it's from. I wonder if it's pressed by feet there, or if it's only picked by the Beast-kin, or not at all?

“Thanks.” Anton replied as friendly as he could. “I'll ask Duran about it.”

Both women smiled at him, Sancha's eyes raking over his body, before turning back to the cooking food. Anton returned to Verona and Kal, still being to talked to by Duran. It seemed that he hadn't stopped talking since he left.

“Lightning Mage Anton.” Duran said, his voice full of enthusiasm. “Your...women, are most fascinating.”

Verona shot him a look, one that said that neither of them had actually spoken a word.

Are they fascinating because they haven't stopped you speaking?

“They are.” Anton slipped in between Verona and Kal, his hands resting on their hips, their hands quickly entwining with his own. Duran chuckled at the sight. He smiled and looked back to his wife and daughter talking as other Bebbazar guards and a few Bandit Hunters gathered, drawn by the smell of cooking food. “Oh, Eluria said something about some special wine?”

Duran snapped his fingers and hurried away to the back of one of the carts far away from where they stood. It left Anton alone with both girls. Kal pulled on his shirt with her free hand.

“Who were you talking to before?” she asked.

Anton turned to see if there was any anger or jealousy with him speaking to another woman. Judging from the way her hands and body felt she didn't appear jealous. That couldn't be said for the teasing pinch coming from his other side.

“That was Cetina.” Anton replied, glancing to Verona as well. Her face was teasing but instantly changed. Now she was listening intently. “From what I understand she's the daughter of Duran with a previous wife. And Eluria and Sancha are the new family. And that doesn't appear to be sitting too well with them.”

Verona glanced up at Anton before taking a few steps to the side. He could feel her discomfort as she looked through a gap in the carts to the idly grazing Ix creatures. Anton moved, with Kal still at his side, to look as well. Tending to the beasts, all alone, they could see the Cetina moving between them. A nearby Bandit Hunter glanced at her but otherwise ignored her as she continued to move between the large reptile beasts. It was the way that she looked at the Ix that made Anton feel quite sad, that she was envious of the lives the Ix lived, that they had a better existence than her.

“She looks so sad.” Verona said, shaking her head and returning to his side. She thumped her head on his leather armoured chest. “After loosing nearly everything, wouldn't they pull together? So they can get back what they lost?”

“Not necessarily.” Kal said, her mask facing the visibly sighing Cetina. “It might have made things worse. They might have just ignored her before. But when things got worse they might have decided to place blame on her. Even though, because of her isolation, she wouldn't have much opportunity to-”

“Make things better?” Verona cut Kal off. “And continued to pick on her when it didn't get better?”

Anton bitterly smiled. “It's a possibility. But we couldn't know for sure unless we ask them all. But...”

“But it might not be our problem to deal with.” Verona sighed. “Atros was pretty bad as well before you arrived. Even though it might be shitty...Why has she got good armour then? It's looks to be pretty strong iron, even if it's rather plain.”

Kal grumbled uncomfortably, scratching her elbows. “A gift...A hollow gift to try and make up for the terrible things they do to you. To allow themselves to keep doing it because of its material worth.”

All three went silent as Anton held Kal tight, Verona holding her hand. He heard her suppress a sniffle underneath her mask. A clothed hand reached up to try and wipe it away but only touched the mask. “Sorry. I just remembered something really, really, bad...”

“There's nothing to be sorry about.” Anton said.

Kal made a sound like she about choke up into a cry, so Anton wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her into a big hug, her head resting on the crook of his neck. He slowly stroked her back as he felt her body become weak and rest into his.

“Oh dear, am I interrupting something?” Anton turned his head to see Duran approaching, two large glass bottles full of red wine. Verona's eyes darted between them before she chuckled nervously.

“No. We're fine.” Verona said. She glanced past him to Cetina, still tending to the Ix, but turned her full attention to Duran. “Our journey hasn't always been easy.”

Duran nodded. “I can appreciate that. We too have been through some harsh times. I think that you will like this. We don't have enough of it to sell to make a good profit, so we might as well share it with our benefactors.”

Verona took the bottle, staring at the red liquid within. She looked back at Kal, who finally freed herself from his grasp and gave him a final weak pat on his shoulder, and her mask.

“Um...Kal doesn't want to take her mask off in the presence of others. That's going to make eating a little difficult, the same with drinking.”

Duran nodded, looking between Kal's mask and the bottle. “Wait just a moment, I have an idea.”

Anton watched him walk into the distance and picked something off the ground. He moved close to Cetina but barely gave her a glance. The issues here ran deep. When he returned he had a large reed like piece of grass in his hands. Most importantly it appeared to be hollow.

“I do not know if this will fit the Lady's aesthetics but it's the best that I can do with what little we have. This way you can just suck the wine up without having to remove your mask. At least that's the plan.” Duran said, handing the reed to Kal. She took it was some hesitation and inspected it closely.

Kal nodded. “Thank you. I'll give it a go.”

Duran chuckled, puffing out his chest. “I'm glad to be of help. Though I know that it'll be tens of thousands of these little things before I even come close to paying all three of you back.” He looked around them towards the fire in the middle of the encampment, waving towards them. “I think dinner will be ready in a few more moments. Let me get a few mugs for us and I shall lead the toasts to you three.”

Duran bowed lightly and walked towards the growing group. Anton didn't miss the brief look that Cetina gave them, quickly averting her eyes and returning to her duties.

---[]---

The meal laid out infront of Anton was quite impressive; a selection of cooked meat that looked near identical to the rabbit meat that Kal caught for them every night, cooked potatoes, tomatoes, carrots and some nuts. A good hearty meal. Verona sat on his right, Kal on his left, on small empty crates near a cart. Everyone, bar a few Bebbezar guards and Bandit Hunters remaining on watch, had gathered around for the food. Duran stood in the middle of the encampment and loudly, and repeatedly, gave his thanks to the Bandit Hunters and themselves for saving them. After the fifth time Eluria had to stop him. He was already getting quite stuck into the wine. Anton didn't ask if it was made by Beast-kin but Kal had drunk it without a care. That thought, whatever it was, had rattled her a little. Drink would help her forget and push it back down, if that's what she wanted. They had also made sure that Kal was hidden when she ate. It was a difficult affair but Kal managed to wolf down the food as they shielded her face from view. Undignified it may have been but nobody knew her real identity, nor did anyone question why she ate the way she did. That left Anton and Verona to eat like normal, though he could feel that Kal wanted to be just like them and enjoy the food. Once they arrived in Porswea they would have some privacy once at an Inn.

Slowly the guards and Bandit Hunters rotated themselves so their companions could eat and they could relieve their fellows. There was one person that Anton had not seen yet.

“There she is.” Verona nudged Anton.

Cetina, who had only just came back from taking care of the Ix, had a small plate of food and looked around nervously for somewhere to sit and eat. There didn't seem to be somewhere for her to sit, she shrugged and walked slowly towards the back of one of the caravan carts.

“Hey!” Verona said, waving until she caught Cetina's attention. “We've got a seat for you here.”

Cetina hesitated until Verona motioned for his crate to be joined to Kal's so they could have all three crates joined together, leaving one left for her. There weren't any people from Bebbezar near them, the few Bandit Hunters were more interested in their food than the people around them. Anton briefly wondered what sort of food they ate normally. Judging by their faces it wasn't good.

“Can I?” Cetina asked tentatively.

Anton nodded, pulling Verona close so there was more than enough room. Cetina smiled and took her seat. Anton saw her hesitate at the last moment but still took her seat. She sighed as the weight was taken off her feet.

“Cetina?” Verona asked, finally finishing picking at the remains of her rapidly eaten meal. “My name's Verona.” she offered her hand for Cetina to shake. It took a second but she decided to take it. “And this is our good...” Verona coughed awkwardly. “Ah...Kal. This is Kal.”

Cetina nodded at Kal, which she returned. With nothing more being said they returned to their meals. Anton noticed that Cetina kept her her shoulder raised towards them, like she wasn't that comfortable being near them. Before Anton could say anything Verona beat him to it.

“Do they always treat you like crap?” she asked.

Anton nearly spat out a piece of hot potato at her words, Kal appeared to be struggling as well.

Didn't think you would go in so direct, Verona.

They all looked towards Cetina. She stopped eating, her eyes loosing focus and looking beyond the plate. Slowly she picked up a bit of food and began to eat again.“Does it matter?” she said quietly.

“Of course it does.” Verona said adamantly. “Just because this is our first time meeting you doesn't meant that it's alright for us not to say something when it's clearly wrong.”

Cetina sighed lightly and continued eating, continuing to look into nothing.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Anton asked. They were under no obligation to help any of them but Verona was right, they couldn't just ignore this. Especially when it was so prominent and they would be travelling with them for many more days. He wondered what the treatment was going to be like in the morning. Nothing good.

Cetina swallowed the piece of food in her mouth before putting the plate on the grass. Anton noted that it was a little bit smaller than everyone else's.

“No...No.” she said quietly.

“When did it start?” Kal asked.

Cetina shook her head. “When dad married Eluria. About a season later it got really bad and then it's been like this ever since.”

“Why haven't you left?” Anton asked.

“I don't know anything else.” Cetina rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, hanging over the edge of the crate. “This is all I can really do. I can't read and everything else I know is what I've managed to overhear.” she clinked her sword again. “This is all I know.”

“Then why not join a mercenary group?” Kal asked. “I know that the Red Company would hire anyone, so long as they've got enough money to join.”

“I've thought about it. But...I don't have any money. I've never had any money.”

Anton looked at the sword. “What about selling-”

Anton received an angry glare from Cetina. “I'm never going to sell this. Never.”

A cheer from the center caught their attention. Duran and Eluria were cheering at something one of the Bandit Hunters had just told them. Anton glanced around, there were some people that he couldn't see.

“Where's your...half sister, Sancha? Or Virgil for that matter?” Anton asked. “He might know somewhere where you could work. I'm sure I saw him a moment ago?”

Cetina chuckled, a devious smile on her tomboy face. “She's working right now. Very hard. And I'm sure he is too.”

She began to gyrate her hips while badly intimating moans. Verona chuckled at the sight. “We've barely known Virgil for little more than a day. And they're already humping?”

Cetina pointed to a caravan cart on the far side of their enclosure. It was the only one with it's cloth drawn tight and shut. He shook her head and began eating again.

“I'm surprised she didn't do it to you.” Cetina gave a glance to Anton, her eyes only daring a momentary connection. “I don't know what she gets out of it but she seemed like she was interested.”

“I thought she was looking at me like that.” Anton felt two hands pinch very hard on his side. He winced before he could placate both girls, though he had to pinch both of them on the butt in return.

“And she acts like she's the queen of virtue.” Cetina grumbled. “Always with her sweet voice and fake fucking smiles...” Cetina raised her hands. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be trying to drown you in my problems. I just don't get many chances to speak to other people like this.”

“I can't imagine you do.”

Cetina nodded. “I do get to speak with other people but not that often. Mainly the other guards, sometimes, and any workers when I'm helping load and offload goods. People that my sister and adoptive mother won't speak to.” she nodded her head weakly. “I did manage to get a few words out of those Beast-kin when we were in Seocuria. Didn't think they could actually speak.”

Kal snapped her head towards her. “Was that when you went through Seocuria?”

“Yeah. We picked some up, to move from plantation to plantation. Good money, I was told.” Cetina shook her head. “I know they're meant to be bad creatures...but they just looked so sad.”

Kal softened her stance, her shoulders drooping a little. Before anything more could be said Cetina snapped her head towards the Ix. They were behaving a little odd, their large heads darting around as they shuffled about. They were snorting quite loudly and quickly becoming more agitated. The Bandit Hunters and the Bebbezar guards present tried their best to calm the beasts but it was having no effect.

“Something's got them spooked.” Cetina perked her head up, scanning into the distance.

Kal stood up and sniffed at the air. Though there weren't holes in the mask to allow her to breath just through her nose there were more than enough gaps to allow air through. She pointed her head towards the south, to where the agitated Ix were looking.

“Anything?” Verona asked, standing up as well and lowering her spear.

“I can't smell anything.” Cetina said.

Kal raised her hand to her, taking another deep sniff. “If it weren't for this...I can smell something like rotting meat and shit...A hint of old stagnant mud underneath.” Kal shrugged at Anton. “I don't know what that means.”

“Ghlotsm.” Cetina said, putting down the plate and drawing her sword and shield. “We've had to fight these things before. But there were a lot more of us then.”

“You lost people?” Verona asked.

Cetina shook her head. “No. But we were in a caravan of over a hundred people. Some people from the other caravans lost some people though.”

Verona smirked at Cetina. “Did your sister bed half the caravan?”

Cetina suppressed a smile as she looked towards where Kal was staring. Now they could hear some rustling in the far distance, the Bandit Hunters there were starting to look a little worried.

Anton turned to the lightly revelling crowd. “Everyone! We've got Ghlotsm coming at us. Get your weapons!”

It took a moment for his words to register, followed by a flurry of movement as Bebbezar guards and Bandit Hunters dived for the weapons and armour. Food and drink were knocked over as they ran about in a confused panic. Anton saw the flap on the closed caravan open and a dishevelled Virgil emerge, desperately pulling his pants up. A few seconds latter Sancha, in a similar state of undress, crawled out.

“Seems you were right about Virgil and your sister.” Anton said to Cetina. She glanced back and smiled at Anton, quickly turning her attention south.

“What's a Ghlotsm?” Verona asked, receiving an odd look from Cetina. “We've been away from other people for some time.”

She frowned between all three of them, her face full of disbelief. “I find it hard to believe that. There's no way you wouldn't have seen one before.”

“Humour us.” Verona smirked at her, finally Cetina cracked into a smile.

“They're little grey creatures, white eyes and loose skin. About the same size as a Green Goblin. I haven't had to fight Goblins for some time but I'm sure that they're more dangerous.”

A man ran towards them from behind. It was Virgil, still trying to put on the last of his armour. “Sorry about that.” he stopped to the side of Kal. “Got a bit distracted there.”

Verona chuckled, Kal even shook her head a little. “Sounds like it.”

Virgil ignored it and unsheathed his sword and brought out his small wooden shield. “You said Ghlotsm, right?”

Anton nodded. “We think so.”

He scanned the woods, his face contorting into a frown. He let out a sharp whistle to bring the Bandit Hunters back to the relative safety of carts. The Bebbezar guards followed, some brought the Ix beasts inside the cart caravans. They might be able to use the carts as some sort of shield against these creatures.

“Fuck. Well, at least I'll die with my head clear.” Virgil said, catching Anton's sideways glance. “That sister of yours knows what she's doing.”

Cetina groaned and shook her head.

Virgil chuckled again. “I've had better though. A lot better. Didn't think I'd get some before we got to Porswea. But that's poor consolation for all of us though. This part of Graterious has been shit for all of us.”

Anton looked into the forest. It was hard to see anything clearly more than a few meters in. He thought he saw something move at the extreme edge of his vision but he couldn't be sure.

Just giving us three night vision wouldn't be the best use of my magic. Not to mention is would use heaps of my mana, and I don't have any Karak fruit with us. Better to use something a bit more direct that'll help everyone.

Anton held up his hand and formed a small fireball, making it as bright as possible, and pushed it above them. Everything burst into light and clarity, as if it was day, like a small floodlight had been lit. Many people gasped at Anton using magic other than lightning, the only new person that didn't look stupefied by Anton's magic was Cetina. Some tried to ask Anton what was happening but their attention was instantly drawn by movement in the distance.

Moving throughout the forest, forming a semi-circle around them, were hundreds of small grey and white creatures. They darted from one tree to the next, barely exposing their bodies for more than a fraction of a second but it was enough for Anton to build a picture in his mind. Cetina was right about their general description, like a white goblin with loose skin, but it didn't do these creatures justice. The Ghlotsm, if that's what these creatures were, were barely a meter tall. The head was not the deformed human head, like a goblin, but just devoid of features. A large, rounded head bobbed about on top of a small and solid looking frame. The eyes were two small sunken white pits, the nose was non-existent and the lips were gone as well, showing rows of yellow and chipped teeth. Loose flaps and rolls of skin hung off it's head and neck, like every creature had been grossly overweight and lost it all in an instant. The rest of the body was relatively more taught and muscled than most of the Goblins bar the Blacks', though there were still lost of flaps of loose grey skin over its' body. Perhaps there was so much for survival so they could loose skin and not get their organs damaged. Their hands ended with vicious claws that looked like it could easily rend its way through flesh and have a good go at leather or even steel. Unlike the Goblins these were completely naked, though it was hard to tell if it was a male or female. Anton guessed, from the lack of breasts, that these were the males. Either that or they laid eggs.

Thankfully there were almost fifteen open meters from the last tree to the closest cart. They would have to expose themselves before they could attack, not that it appeared to be worrying them.

“You going to light up the forest?” Verona asked. “I know you easily could.”

“I'd prefer not to.” Anton replied. “Remember how much of it was burned down last time?”

Verona nodded, a small smile on her face, as she remembered what happened to the Accursed Forest that formed the border between Qaiviel, and Maxill, and Atros. Anton hoped that Nithroel wasn't too annoyed about that and he didn't want to provoke her anymore by destroying this forest. He still hadn't received a gods' dream even though he had sent the mana. Just another reason, albeit a small one, to make it through tonight.

“You can do that?” Cetina asked. Anton turned and smiled. He didn't answer but she took it as yes.

More and more of the Ghlotsm creatures emerged through the forest. They only made it to the final trees before the clearing, hanging at the back and peering around. They acted like they couldn't see the bright fireball above him. Either that or they could see in some way that Anton didn't expect.

“Alright.” Virgil whistled again to his Bandit Hunters. They pulled out their bows and moved behind the carts for cover, those without moved in-between the gaps, followed by the Bebbezar guards.

“What are you doing?” came a voice from behind. Anton turned around to see Sancha, her face still flushed from her recent activity with Virgil, wearing the bright Bebbezar colours. He couldn't see any armour or weapons on her, and judging by the way her clothes moved, there was no armour underneath. “Move forward with the other guards.” she said to Cetina.

Cetina shrugged and moved forward and took a position next to a Bandit Hunter. He glanced to his side and said nothing. Nobody was going to begrudge an extra sword and shield at their side.

“Honestly, that girl.” Sancha shook her head and moved close to Anton. “Can you protect us?” Anton noticed that she pushed her arms together and raised her chest to accentuate her breasts. Verona shook her head and sighed.

“You should get a weapon too.” Anton said to her flatly. “Probably a spear, so you can fight from the safety of the carts. And some armour, if you want to survive this.”

Sancha shook her head. “You just need to protect us. But I don't fight.”

“You need to fight if you want to survive.” Verona said. “If you don't help we'll all be dead.”

“Anton can protect us. Right?” she reached out and held his arm. Anton shrugged her off and Verona pushed her away with a heavy shove.

“Keep your rotten and disgusting body away from him. You...” Verona frowned and shook her heard. “Idiot.” Verona pulled on his sleeve. “I'll need some blood.”

Before Sancha could retort, Verona lowered her spear and ran the edge on Anton's hand. Sancha gasped as Verona's body began to glow red. She collected the blood and Anton healed the wound by chanting the prayer in his head. Sancha looked stunned at him, so too did the other Bebbezar merchants and guards, even Cetina, as they looked at Verona's red glowing form.

“What are you?” she asked in a terrified whisper, her hands shaking. “What monsters...”

Verona looked up at Sancha, a mischievous grin forming underneath her glowing eyes. She raised her hand and rubbed her hairline. “Listen...You've got a little something there. Just there. You should deal with that before you try and hold somebody else's man.”

Sancha, seemingly distracted from Verona's glowing form, reached up and touched her hairline. When she touched her hair she recoiled in horror. Verona only shook her head, sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth while Sancha was flickering between flushing and turning white in embarrassment.

Verona was on the verge of bursting into laughter. “Next time you do that you should make sure that you don't get that in your hair. And if you do, make sure you don't walk around like you're someone important. It really shows up in this light, and kind of makes you look like a slut. Fucking idiot.”

Sancha turned and ran away, holding her head down in shame. Virgil started laughing and shaking his head, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard. He seemingly didn't care that it was his fault, nor had any lingering attachment. Even Cetina was holding back laughter.

“Ah...Dumb fucking idiot.” Verona said. “I'm taking it they haven't attacked yet? While we were dealing with that?”

Anton nodded his head. He had been keeping his attention divided between the growing Ghlotsm attackers and the scene happening behind them. Now there were were several hundred of them and they were only continuing to grow in number.

“How does anyone survive with this many of these creatures roaming the forests?” Anton asked aloud.

“Because they live in cities and villages with walls.” Virgil replied. He hadn't even looked back once after Sancha ran away. “Even Soulthour's wall would be enough to make them think twice. And they aren't brave enough to attack that many people, as badly armed as they are. But us out here...We aren't so lucky.”

“Why weren't you attacked before?” Kal asked.

“Because if this many turned up we would have ran off by now.” Virgil replied. “Not this time.”

“I'll try and take down as many as I can with lightning.” Anton said. “How many do we have to kill before they break?”

“They won't break.” Cetina said, taking a glance back. “Even if there's only one they'll still try and attack once they get like this.”

Not even the Goblins are that crazy. I wonder how they reproduce? If they need human women to do it quickly? Perhaps they do lay eggs...self fertilised perhaps?

“The girls' right.” Virgil nodded towards Cetina. “It'll only be one of us that makes it through this.”

Anton could see the end of their numbers, no more were coming through the forest. Hundreds. They were going to try and overwhelm them in a single attack.

“Okay. Here we go.”

As Anton raised his hand he heard Kal ready her bow beside him. He formed as many lightning bolts within him as he felt comfortable. Without warning he fired the bolts into the forest, the twisting and writhing blue arcs striking the exposed Ghlotsm in their loose skinned faces. They screeched as the lightning struck their bodies and flung them back, some burned limbs flying into the air. Before Anton fired another barrage something stopped him. Many of the Ghlotsm he struck struggled to rise back up. They were wounded, most of the flesh on their bodies were charred and torn, many missing some of their limbs or seemingly blinded by the attack, but they weren't dead.

“What?” Anton said out loud.

The Ghlotsm glanced around, anger drawing on their disturbing faces. Sharp claws scratched at the wood. Kal squeaked in distress as her hand reached for Anton's for assurance, Verona looked up at him in surprise and concern.

I put quite a bit of mana into that attack. Less mana easily killed those bandits and goblins...Those giant rabbits, the Thumpers. They had that flesh that inhibited magic. Do they have that?

He fired another lightning bolt volley at the Ghlotsm. This time, those that were struck already died instantly, now completely torn apart, and the bolts wounded the other Ghlotsm. “Verona. Magic doesn't seem to work as easily against them. Be careful.”

Verona nodded furiously. “Got it. What about normal weapons?”

Kal drew back her bow and fired. The bow twanged lightly, the arrow finding an unharmed Ghlotsm looking around a tree and felling it was a single hit.

“Not bad, Kal.” Verona formed the blood into shards. “So normal weapons work. That's good. Guess that's why everyone's still alive.”

The Ghlotsm screeched, a quick and looping rhythm, and charged. It reminded Anton of the Goblins when they attacked, but this was even more frantic. Every Ghlotsm ran as fast as they could, their muscles straining to propel them across the grass, clawed hands flailing wildly about to attack.

Anton stopped his marveling as Kal, and every Bandit Hunter, fired their arrows and felled a few charging Ghlotsm. The archers readied another volley as Anton summoned lightning bombs and threw them over the heads of the defenders. Those were more successful than the lightning bolts, their explosions throwing their small bodies about and causing more damage. It also physically slowed their attack as they needed a few moments to resume their charge.

The first Ghlotsm reached the carts and dived underneath. A Bandit Hunter thrust his sword down into the head of the Ghlotsm, Anton heard the skull breaking as the creature went limp. Another dived over the top at Cetina, it's clawed hands and feet moved it effortlessly up the wooden cart. She raised her large metal shield as the Ghlotsm threw itself at her. Her shield ringed with a dull reverberation as the Ghlotsm broke a bone, or two, before bouncing back and onto the cart. She didn't hesitate and thrust her sword into its head, instantly killing it but embedding her sword into the wood. She kicked on the dead Ghlotsm's chest hard and wrenched her sword free just as another lunged at her from the top of the cart. Cetina used her backward momentum to her advantage, throwing her shoulder back and her body into a spin, keeping the sword close to her body to not strike the Bandit Hunter next to her. She turned to face the creature and sliced the lunging Ghlotsm's head in two. Another Ghlotsm dove from underneath the cart, she dispatched it with a simple downward slash.

“Bloody hell.” Anton said, throwing out more lightning bombs.

Cetina glanced back at Anton, a boyish smile on her blood speckled face, then resumed her stance. More and more Ghlotsm started to clamber over the carts and caravans and past the few defenders. Verona directed her shards at those that made it past the soldiers. Her blood shards slowed as they penetrated the flesh of the Ghlotsm. She had to make visible effort to wrench them free. Fighting these things was a bit difficult for the magic users. Kal, on the other hand, was dispatching them with accurate shots like she was a machine gun. However there were so many Ghlotsm that they were being pushed back towards the central fire. Anton was having to fire several lightning bolts to kill each one instead of firing once and moving onto the next target. Verona too was having a bit of a problem with their magic inhibition. Neither of them could use their powers most dangerous forms as there were too many people present and they didn't want to destroy everything in sight.

“Fall back!” Virgil yelled, slamming his small shield into a Ghlotsm and breaking its face. “Don't get separated.”

Anton slowly started to back up, noticing that Cetina wasn't retreating with them. Was she waiting for an order from a family member that wasn't going to come?

“Cetina!” he yelled. “Come on!”

She glanced back, a strange lack of comprehension before he waved her towards them. As she nodded he fired off a bolt next to her head, striking and incapacitating a Ghlotsm about to attack her as she ran to their side. Now they were a few meters back from the carts as the Ghlotsm continuing their frenzied attack. Anton didn't know if anyone had been killed yet but he knew it wouldn't be long. A Bebbezar guard didn't retreat fast enough and became isolated. The Ghlotsm attacked him from both sides as he desperately swung his sword for his life but he couldn't fend them off. Their claws tore through the loose bright clothes and into his flesh between the armor, stabbing and tearing over and over. The man screamed as blood spurted out as more Ghlotsm began to crawl over him while his body began to crumple. Anton fired a few lightning bolts, being very careful to not hit the man, and Verona threw a wave of blood crystals over him to throw the Ghlotsm off him. Cetina and another Bandit Hunter ran forward and dragged him back.

He was bleeding profusely but he was still alive. Anton knelt down and mumbled a healing prayer so that he wouldn't die. Once the mana left him the wounds were still raw but the blood had stopped flowing. Nobody noticed as they were still fighting for their lives. He turned his attention back to the Ghlotsm attack. There were many dead and they appeared to be running out of numbers. Anton let off a series of lightning bombs around the defenders. Now there were less than a hundred Ghlotsm left.

“Do not give in now, friends!” a deep voice yelled out, Anton quickly identified as Duran. “The enemy are on their last breath!”

The defenders gained a tiny bit of morale as they could see the end in sight. Seemingly the same couldn't be said for the Ghlotsm, still attacking like there was no limit to their numbers. The last Ghlotsm finally fell a few moments later, a short thrust by Virgil skewering the creature in its neck and body. It took a few moments before they realised that they were all dead. There was no cheer this time, no matter how much Duran and a few of the Bebbezar guards tried to encourage them. Most of the defenders just slumped to the ground in relief. They had survived the night.

“Is anyone wounded?” Anton asked. “Or did we loose anyone?”

“None of us are dead but we've got quite a few wounded of ours.” Virgil said. He used his sleeve to wipe away the Ghlotsm blood covering his face.

“I'm afraid that I must say that some of us are wounded too.” Duran said. “Cowardly little creatures. A shame that they decided to attack us this night.”

Kal slumped to the ground next to Anton, desperately holding onto his shoulder to slow her fall. All of the strength left her so she crumpled onto the ground, her breath hard and ragged.

“What's wrong?” Anton asked, holding her hand. It was trembling a little and felt weak and limp despite her best efforts.

Kal shook her head, gripping his hand back. “My back hurts. And it's like I've lost all my strength. I'm not wounded but it feels like I'm back at the plantation.”

Verona crawled towards them, a deep look of concern on her face. Anton laid his hand on Kal's back and tried to search through Kal's body for any sign. Just below her neck he found it, the small grain of sand lodged along her spine. He brushed up against it and bounced a little but it snapped back.

“I've...Have I?”

Anton nodded. “Yeah. You've got what Shawn and Joclyn had.”

Kals' breathing began to increase. She didn't want to go through the pain that both of the children went through. Verona moved closer and held Kal's other hand, Kal appeared to appreciate it and rested her head on Verona's shoulder.

Verona turned to Anton. “I'll...I'll take care of her.” she slowly stroked Kal's back. “Go help the others. We'll get Kal through this once everything else has settled down.”

Anton gave Verona a kiss, one which she returned greedily. He gave Kal a kiss on her hand, one which elicited a very weak chuckle from her. Verona pulled Kal closer as Anton stood up and looked for the wounded. They weren't too hard to find. He moved to the man that looked the closest to death. It was a Bandit Hunter, most of his body torn to bloody shreds and leaking copious amounts of blood. The few people present that knew some sort of first aid had ignored the man to work on the others. Anton didn't blame their decision, and neither did the dying Bandit Hunter who kept a stoic face as life slowly left him. They all knew that he was not salvageable without serious help. Magical help.

Here's hoping that they don't get to freaked out by this.

Anton placed his hand on the Bandit Hunter's leg. He, and the people around him, looked oddly at his action. “Please don't struggle.” It appeared that the Bandit Hunter thought he was being told that it was over for him. Anton coughed deeply. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal this man so he will not die.”

As he spoke the words aloud a small fraction of his mana left him. The blood flow ceased and the wounds began to heal over, life returned to the man’s eyes. Deep cuts and wounds knit themselves together and the red wounds became pink and tender. Now he wasn't going to die at least. Again he was annoyed that he hadn't tried using the prayer power in this way before. He pushed such thoughts away, there was nothing that dwelling over it could do.

“What...” a woman to his side said quietly. Anton turned and saw Eluria staring at him in disbelief. “What did you just do?”

Right. They follow the Church of the Holy Father. The forces of Qaiviel, like Hemiskr, kept quiet because they knew how much trouble they were in and that we were necessary to beat back the invasion. Seeing their friends kept alive should quell any concern. But I shouldn't push it.

Anton smiled back warmly. “What I can to keep these men alive. Now, who else is badly wounded?”

Eluria, still startled by what Anton had just managed to do, gestured to the other men lying wounded. Anton shuffled to each of them and recited a healing prayer aloud. He didn't shout it out, just in case it would truly offend them, and kept it under his breath. Each prayer was a little different in volume which seemed to have a slight difference in the amount of mana used. However it seemed the most important thing that was that it was said aloud. He was sure that the wounded would be a little offended if they found out that he was using them as part of a test.

“Is that everyone?” Anton asked as he stood up. He surveyed the scene. Nobody was going to die from injuries but they were all staring at him. “I didn't miss anyone?”

“N-No. Lightning...” Duran stammered out. He rubbed his eyes as he shook his head. “How did you do that? I didn't think that you were a healer of the Holy Father. Especially after being away from people for so long...”

Anton shook his head. “I am not versed in that belief.”

“Then...How...” Duran looked to his wife. “I...It doesn't matter. After saving all those people that were only a few moments from prematurely embracing the love of the Holy Father I don't have anything to object to.” He bowed his head. “Thank you for help once again.”

“Indeed.” Virgil added. “What other tricks do you have? I thought that the fire was a bit much. But this...”

Anton bowed his head to both men. “It wasn't a problem to help. Virgil, do you think that any more Ghlotsm will attack tonight?”

“No.” Virgil replied flatly. “Not tonight.”

“Good. My companions and I need some privacy.”

Duran looked to one of the covered caravan carts. “Certainly. We can rough a few nights until we reach Porswea. You can use that cart. I'm afraid it's the best that we can do for our continuous saviours.”

The cart that Duran pointed to was the one that Virgil and Sancha had emerged from. He had no desire to be inside of that cart after it had been so recently used.

“Is there another one?” Anton asked, not giving his reason why. He heard Cetina and Virgil chuckle behind him. Anton did his best to keep a straight face as Duran studied him for the reason.

Finally Duran shrugged and gestured towards the another covered cart. “It matters not. You can use whichever cart you wish. Our humble goods are at your disposal.”

“Thank you.” Anton moved back to Verona and Kal. The others said nothing as he walked past, like he was an existence that was somehow beyond their comprehension. He had just healed people with seemingly a murmur, bringing back a man that was almost certainly going to die. He hoped that they would give them some space, and not try and find his Charm that would normally allow him to use such magic. Kal had calmed and relaxed a little when he arrived and now she just looked tired. She rested on her hip as Verona held one of her hands. He knelt down to her. “How are you feeling?” he gently rubbed her shoulder. Her body was much warmer than normal.

Kal held his hand and turned her mask to him. “Alright. I...I just really feel tired. I want to sleep, even though...”

“We'll get through it.” Anton said, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her up. Kal seemed more than willing to rest her weight on his body.

“Is she alright?” Cetina asked. She looked at them all with some concern.

“She's fine.” Anton replied. “Just a bit tired. That was very impressive what you did. I haven't seen someone use a sword and shield like that before.”

Cetina smiled, her face reddening a little in the glow of the fire. “Thank you, Anton. I hope that you get better soon, Kal. Verona.”

Kal nodded at Cetina and gave her a tiny wave. Verona smiled and said something to Cetina when he was out of hearing range. She quickly ran after them and took the other side of Kal.

“Will it happen tonight?” Verona whispered to Anton.

Anton looked at Kal. “I don't know. But we'll be right there for you Kal, no matter what.”

Kal nodded and squeezed his hand in return as they hopped into the covered cart.

Chapter 075. Vol 3 - Changes

Chapter 075:

Anton tried his best to get comfortable in the back of the caravan cart. Dozens of differently shaped large wooden crates were not really conducive for them to sleep on. Kal was very tired as the budding glyph was taking its toll on her body. Anton and Verona started to move the crates so they could form a rough bed for her.

“It's not the best.” Anton admitted, looking at their work. “But it'll have to do.”

Kal, with her mask still on, looked at a gap between the crates in the middle of the cart. She grumbled, rubbed and massaged her back, and lay between the gap. It was only a little bit bigger than she was but she seemed fine with it.

“This is fine.” Kal said as she let out a deep sigh. “It's not too bad when you get used to it. Also lying down like this is making it a lot better.” Kal looked at him, her eyes and expression hidden by the mask. “I think it's kind of rude that you didn't have to go through this to get your powers.”

Anton smiled. He looked back and made sure the flaps of the caravan were tied tight to the bottom of the cart. When he was certain that nobody was going to peek in he moved down and gently removed Kal's mask. She tried to protest but quickly gave up. Her face was lightly flushed and covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Are you sure about that?” Kal asked.

“Well, if you do end up screaming, I don't want to have to try and hold your mouth closed with that on your face.”

Kal raised her hand and thumped against his leg. While he was liking the playful Kal, he wasn't liking that it was possibly a response to the pain and lethargy she was suffering. He held her hand tight which elicited a smile from her.

Verona chuckled and patted Kal's other hand. “While you may think that you're comfortable there, I'm sure that you don't actually want to sleep like that. And I don't want to sleep like that either. I'll go and get the softest blankets.”

Both nodded as she headed to the exit. Kal placed her mask on her face as Verona exited the caravan and into the night. She pushed it shut, a few attempts to push it flat before Verona grunted and walked off. Kal sighed and tried to raise herself up. Anton stopped her from rising, it wasn't that difficult.

“I'm sorry.” Kal mumbled. She raised her mask so she could look him in the eye, her horizontal cat slit eyes looked a little misty and very tired. “I'm just going to be an inconvenience until this thing is over with.”

Anton sighed, moved the crate back, and knelt next to Kal. She frowned as he removed her mask and kissed her, one that she returned with great enthusiasm. When they parted he knew that they were both red and a little embarrassed.

“You've never been an inconvenience for me.” Anton replied as he retook his seat, holding her hand. “Never.”

Kal chuckled and shook her head. She rested her mask loosely on her face as she pouted. “I guess the pain is making me a little grumpy and weird. At least once it's over I'll be fine...The next day.”

The caravan flap opened and Verona entered, carrying the sleeping gear underneath her arms and one of the horse packs over her shoulder. She smiled between them as she gave Anton the sleeping gear. “That was a bit heavier than I thought. I brought that special pen of yours so nobody gets a hold of it...Could you put one of those prayers on this pack so only the three of us could get into it? Like give them a big zap, or make their skin bright blue or something?”

Anton nodded. “I'll give it a go, once Kal is better. I don't have all my mana and I want to keep it all just in case.”

Kal groaned while Verona poked her with her boots. She looked at Verona through the side of her loosely fitted mask. “So, where's my kiss?”

Kal frowned. “How did you know?”

Verona smiled wildly as she looked between both of them. “I can tell. So, since I was left out of that fun, I'm going first once we rent a room in Porswea.”

There was no mistaking the look on Verona's face. Kal shrugged and closed her eyes, quickly drifting in and out of sleep. The sleeping gear was laid out on the carts and underneath Kal. Now there was just time to waste until Kal's power came through. He could have tried to force it, like he accidently did with Verona, but he didn't want to put Kal through that sort of pain on purpose.

Verona, lying on the blankets, bolted upright and looked down. “We've got another problem.”

“What?” Anton asked. Kal moved her mask to peer at Verona with one eye.

“When this happens, she's going to be screaming. No matter how much she tries to hold it in.” Verona started rummaging through the pack she brought for herself. “And I don't want to be trying to hold you down while you're screaming your head off. Your teeth can be really nasty, if you want them to be.”

Kal ran her tongue over her canine teeth. Verona knew about what she had done to the Orc leader, Zig.

“So what's your plan?” Anton asked.

Verona raised her hand to tell them to wait and continued to rummage through her pack. Both hands emerged a few moments later with a thick rolled wad of cloth. “See, we put this over your mouth and then you'll scream into this and not wake everyone up.”

Kal frowned even more deeply as she pushed the mask off her face and looked more closely at it. “This...These are my...”

Verona smiled. “Yeah. I couldn't just take it from someone else, could I?”

“I suppose not.” Kal replied, her eyes frowning as she placed it over her mouth. If she was wearing it properly it would stop her screams. “This looks a little...suggestive.”

“What's suggestive?” Anton asked.

“I haven't told you this, but there was one night when I was lurking around the back of a large building in a remote city in Graterious. And there was some...” Kal raised the cloth wad and spun it between her hands. “Stuff...Involving something like this.”

Verona raised a brow between them while Anton held back a smile. “Was...Was there a whole bunch of hands being bound, some leather and whips?”

Kal flushed. “Something like that.”

Verona still looked a confused but shrugged. “You're going to have to tell me what you're on about. I'm guessing that it's a sex thing?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“So, what now?” Kal asked.

Verona lent down. “You just try and get some rest. We'll be here if something happens.”

---[]---

Anton had been told to go to sleep first so that he could recover as much mana as possible. Lying on the crates was a little different to what he was used to, lately it had been on the ground with at least one of them for warmth and company. Still, he managed to get a bit of sleep before Verona woke him. Her face was worried as she looked down at Kal. Though the mask was obscuring most of her sleeping face it was clear that she was quite pained. As the seconds passed it began to get worse and worse, her brows started to furrow as she began to gasp for air.

“Here we go.” Verona said.

She lent down and removed the mask and quickly wrapped the cloth over her mouth to stop her from screaming. Kal was dipping in and out of conciousness as her hands began to try and reach around to scratch at her back. Anton moved the crates back and knelt beside her, holding both hands tight.

Kal began to calm for a moment before her body buckled and started to thrash about uncontrollably. Anton held her arms and chest down while Verona moved to her legs, though her strength was nothing like it was before. He could see the strain on Verona's face as she was nearly lifted into the air on both of Kal's legs before lying on top of them and crashing them back down onto the wooden cart floor. Muffled screams started to follow as Anton desperately held her arms still. He was using every ounce of his strength to stop her from clawing at her own back. With Beast-kin claws her back would be shredded by the time the glyph activation passed.

How did Jonathan feel when he saw both of his children go through this?

“Hold on Kal. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, help Kal though this process and ease her pain.”

Some of his mana left him as Kal began to calm down. Verona didn't let go of Kal's legs as she looked up at him. “That was the first bit. Now it's just the really bad bit.”

Kal's face was drenched with sweat and clearly in a lot of pain. Her head flopped to one side as unconsciousness overtook her once again. He stroked her forehead in a vain attempt to calm her. It was terrifying to see someone he loved go through such pain.

“Do you want to swap?” Verona asked. “I almost hit the ceiling before.”

“I wasn't much better.” Anton replied. “If she was like this all the time-”

“Both our backs would be shredded.” Verona smiled wickedly.

Anton suppressed a smile as he remembered the nights with Kal. There were quite a few times when she could get lost in the moment and her claws would rake across their backs. It only ever stung lightly at the worst time, except their first night together. Kal always apologised profusely but they both said it was fine.

Kal started to groan and moan, much louder than before, as he body began to writhe uncontrollably again.

“Here we go.” they both said in unison.

Kal began to kick and scream. Her hands desperately tried to claw at her back. One managed to come free of Anton's hands and dove under her back, tearing free the cloth wrappings over her head and making a light cut on her cheek. The sounds of claws tearing at thick and hardened leather filled the air. He tried to get the arm back but only received a nasty scratch all along his arm. It was a shallow cut but stung like mad. Verona looked over as Anton let out a tiny cry of pain, her eyes stuck on the blood leaking out of his arm. The momentary distraction loosened her grip and sent her flying to the side and into the wooden crates. Kal's legs arched up, along with her body, and her feet's claws' dug and ground their way into the wood. Verona grunted as she shook her head and dove for Kal's legs and flattened her again.

A new noise began to fill the air, the sound of flesh tearing coming from Kal's back. She began to calm somewhat, her spasms weakening, so Anton gently turned and rested her on her side. Verona moved up and held Kal's hands while Anton unfastened the chest armour. Kal wasn't completely through with her transformation yet. Her body buckled and trashed about again, enough to throw off the piece of cloth in her mouth. She let out a single cry before Verona clasped her mouth shut. Anton glanced up, Verona was enjoying this as little as he was.

When he finally removed the armour piece Kal had calmed down. She was breathing very heavily, sweat pouring off her face as she gripped desperately onto Verona's hands. The sound of tearing flesh was continuing but her thrashing had stopped. If Shawn and Joclyn were anything to go by it would be over. He rolled up some of the cloth wrappings and exposed the top of her back. Along her mocha toned back white marks began to etch themselves onto her skin. Along her spine, just between her shoulder blades, a pair of white hands clasped in prayer emerged. Surrounding that wavy lines grew out, forming a stylised set of wings, that reached the tips of her shoulder. Anton ran his hand over the marks. Her body was very warm, especially on the marks. He chanted a prayer to heal her. It took quite a bit of mana but Kal began to breath easier. Verona unbound the cloth from Kal's mouth, the cloth had almost been torn through and was drenched with spit.

“Did...Is it over?” Kal asked weakly. “Did...”

Anton laid her on her back and slowly caressed her head. “I think it is. There's a mark on your back. You've got a glyph, just like us. I think that you've got the prayer power.” Anton showed her the white mark on his hand. “That's on your back now. That and some wings.”

Tears started to well in her eyes, ones that made Anton feel very odd and concerned. She began to cry, weak sniffles at most. “Finally.” she whispered as her eyes closed. A few breaths passed and she was out cold, her head slumped loudly onto the floor. Anton didn't reply and just slowly stroked her head.

“I'll stay up for the next couple of hours.” Anton said to Verona, both returning to their crates as Kal slept between them. “It might be a good chance to see if my powers can refresh myself. But I shouldn't-”

“You alright?” A voice came from the caravan tent flap. Anton turned and saw a black haired head, with a small tuft of blue, poking through a small gap in the caravan, a sword poking through to the side having cut a few of the strings. Cetina was looking through and at Anton. “Sorry. I was on patrol and I heard a scream that wasn't...”

Her voice trailed off as she looked down at Kal. Specifically her ears. The long Beast-kin ears were exposed to sight as her mask lay on the side and some of the cloth wrappings had been loosened. Anton glanced down, a feeling of cold washing over him now that she saw. He looked up and Cetina's face paled. She darted back without saying a word, her sword clanged lightly onto the ground.

“Shit!” Verona said, diving after her and out into the darkness. “Hey!” A few seconds passed and Anton heard a thump of metal against wood and then another. He readied himself for a fight but nothing came.

Fuck. I hope that Verona's not going to do something stupid.

---[]---

Verona's feet barely touched the ground before she reached out for the back of Cetina. The woman was a lot stronger than Verona first thought, throwing off her first grab at her armour. She ground her teeth and lunged at her, colliding with her chest and pushing them both into the side of a wooden cart on the outside of the defensive ring. Cetina raised her mailed hands to fight but Verona knew that she was the one at a disadvantage. Without fresh blood she was very weak, especially against someone that had always relied only on their body and their muscles. Verona dodged the first powerful swing as she darted inside her reach and only a few inches from her face. Verona reached up and clamped her mouth shut. The fear on Cetina's face was palpable.

“Don't move. Don't speak.” Verona growled. She felt that she might be overdoing it a little but she was the one at a disadvantage. Cetina looked down at her, stunned, before Verona flashed the blood power enough to make her eyes glow. Cetina nodded furiously.

“Okay. I'm going to remove my hand and you aren't going to scream.” Verona said, waiting for a nod before removing her hand. Her bluff worked as Cetina remained silent. “Whatever you think you saw in there. You didn't.” Verona began. “You won't speak of it unless you want to be killed. Understood?”

Cetina nodded furiously. “I won't.”

“That's good to hear.” Verona looked around. She wasn't too worried, at first, where she was or who saw them, but it would be hard to explain why she had pinned Cetina against a cart in the dead of night. She could only spy one of the Bandit Hunters, a few carts away and looking into the darkness. It seemed that the Ghlotsm bodies had been removed.

Anton poked his head out of the cart, searching desperately for her. When their eyes made contact his face softened. He threw him a wave, to let him know it was alright, and he retreated to the cart. Verona turned back to Cetina, still very close to her.

“I...um...need to get back onto patrol.” Cetina stammered out.

Verona frowned at the grey and purple eyed woman, annoyingly taller than she was, probably an inch or two taller than Kal. Dark edges lay underneath her eyes and they seemed to have difficulty staying open.

“Have you had any sleep yet?” Verona asked. She moved and picked up Cetina's discarded sword and handed it back to her. It took a moment before Cetina took the hint and reached for it. Did she think it was some sort of test?

“Not yet.” Cetina replied, sounding quite tired now that the excitement had worn off. “Nobody has come to relieve me.”

“No one from your family?”

Cetina sheathed her blade. “No. One of the Bandit Hunters offered to do it if I slept with him for the rest of the trip to Porswea.” Cetina frowned deeply, a strange smile on her face. “Either that or I get on my knees for him. I'm not doing that.”

Verona chuckled. “Some of them don't seem like they've ever washed themselves. I couldn't imagine what it would be like.”

Cetina smiled back at Verona.

Can't just leave this as some sort of friendly chat. She's seen something that she's not supposed to.

“Don't say anything.” Verona said. It was a little hard for her words to have the same sort of impact as before but she still needed to say it.

Cetina nodded, her face less terrified than before. “I won't. I'm not going to...upset people that don't treat me like crap.”

Verona looked her up and down. Cetina was a rather good looking young woman, so it wasn't related to that. If anything it should have made people, men especially, treat her a little better.

“That come from the family that you're travelling with?”

A dark look drew on Cetina's face. “Yep. I...It can be hard. Especially if there aren't other people with us.”

“To keep them from acting too badly?”

“Yeah.”

“So, I know we asked you this before, but why not just leave?”

Cetina's hands gripped hard on the pommel of her sword and the edge of her chest armour. “I don't care about any of them, apart from my father.”

Verona tried to smile as warmly as she could. “It's his choice who he's going to be with. And I'm sure that you've said something?”

“He asked them, but that just made it worse. When he's not looking.”

Verona hummed in agreement. “Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do but I think you should leave once you get to Porswea. If Anton treated me half as rudely as you are being treated...”

“You would leave him?”

“No. But I would beat the crap out of him until he came to his senses.”

Cetina smiled awkwardly. “That's...I would need money to survive and I don't have any. And I'm not selling these.”

Verona looked back to the cart she dived out from. “I need to get back soon. You know, you sound a little bit like Kal.”

Cetina lent more closely. “Is she a-”

“Don't say it or think it.” Verona growled, Cetina instantly remembered the predicament she was in. Verona ran her hand over a small coin pouch hidden in her clothes. They had brought dozens of gold coins with them, not to mention a few of the ruby and emerald gems. Loosing a few coins wouldn't harm their foray into Graterious and Seocuria.

Verona waved her finger at Cetina. “When...When we get moving in the morning...Do you ride a horse or are you on one of the carts?”

“I don't have a horse.” Cetina said.

“Well...Tomorrow, when we get moving, we'll come and find you and have a bit of a chat. See what we can do to help out. I'm sure Anton's already thought of something like that.” She looked back to the caravan. “He tends to do that with people that need help.”

Cetina only frowned. “Why would you help me? Surely it doesn't matter to you what happens to me?”

Verona smiled. “I've got a good feeling about you. I'd like to think that I've got that skill and it's worked out well so far. Besides, I don't think that you would actually tell someone what you saw.” Verona looked directly into her eyes until Cetina nodded. “So, we'll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Um...Yes.” Cetina stumbled out her words. “I will, I will continued with my patrol.”

Verona nodded. “We'll see you then.”

Cetina, somewhat rigidly, walked off to continue her patrol. Verona sighed and ran her fingers through her hair as she walked back to the caravan.

Anton was right about this place being more complicated than Qaiviel, or even Atros. I wonder what he'll have to say about this.

---[]---

Anton waited in silence for Verona to return. While he waited he kept some mana bubbling away inside, just in case someone tried something threatening. After seeing what he was capable of he very much doubted it but wanted to play it safe. Especially when Kal was out cold and couldn't be moved easily.

Finally he heard movement from outside. A silver head poked its way through the tent flaps and into the caravan. Verona wore a big cheesy grin when she hauled herself in. She made doubly sure that the tent flaps were fastened tight before coming to his side.

“Don't worry about Cetina.” she said. She rested her head on his shoulder and entwined a hand with his. “We had a chat and she's going to keep quiet.”

“Did you hit her? I heard some thumping, of metal onto wood.”

Verona scratched nervously at her cheek. “We had a little tumble, let's just put it at that. But I've got her word that she's not going to say anything. I had to flash my power a little just to get the message across.”

“Well...” Anton wrapped his other arm around Verona gave her a quick kiss. “That's good to know. Kal's just been sleeping quietly. Hopefully she'll be able to ride in the morning.”

“What did that old woman call her?”

“An Orison Templar.” Anton replied. “I was dredging that up in my mind while I waited.”

“Any idea what that means?” Verona asked, continuing before he could answer. “Unless it's the same sort of thing with me being a Blood Berserker. Like the name of whoever has this power?”

“I think it is. The old woman, witch or whatever, called you two that.”

“But she called you a Grand Mage.” Verona frowned a little. “But that's probably because she could see your mana, like she could see ours. That's kind of creepy, like she can see though us.”

“There's a lot of questions that she needs to answer.” Anton nodded deeply. “But I think it might be a little while before we get to where she lives. Whatever that place was called.”

Verona nodded as well, looking down at Kal. “We've got something else we need to do first. Oh, also, it seemed that Cetina has been up all night. And by the looks of things she'll be up until dawn at the very least.”

“What?” Anton mumbled. “That's pretty shitty.”

“Well, not so fast.” Verona flashed him a playful smile. “One of the Bandit Hunters offered to take her place if she slept with him. Or at least got on her knees for him every night.”

“Oh, is that all.” Anton shook his head. “Sounds like she didn't take that deal.”

“No. No. But...I did manage to get out of her that she does want to leave but needs help.” Verona's playful smile vanished as she looked up at him completely seriously. “Should we help her? I'm seriously asking. We've got more than enough money for now. And a few gold coins could help her get her away.”

“I got the impression that she wouldn't leave without tearing Duran away from Eluria.”

Verona shrugged. “I did too, but she might change her mind when freedom and money is offered to her.”

“I...I don't know.” Anton replied. “I honestly thought about helping her. What she's going through is pretty crappy and I don't really want to have that thought niggling at the back of my head. Of course, there are people, and...beasties, going through a lot worse things but-”

“We should help out where we can?”

“Yeah...When we get to Porswea we could give her a few gold coins. We've got more than enough on us, for now.” Anton gently rubbed his beard. “I wonder how much a boat and crew would cost. That's not something that I can ask without attracting some really odd attention, especially since the story that we've going with is that we've been in the mountains for so long.”

Verona pulled him down and gently kissed him. When she parted her face contorted into a frown. “If...If Cetina can use a sword so well, and she felt pretty strong when we fought, why would they treat her so badly? She's got a sword and they don't.”

“Because she hasn't retaliated properly yet.” Anton replied. “I'm guessing. They'll just keep pushing and prodding until she snaps, which shouldn't be too far away. You didn't see her when we made camp and she got told off for failing to get the fire going. If the prods were a little bit harsher she would have exploded by now. And then there would have been quite a few dead people. It might be over inheritance for all I know. If Duran's still got some money in Bebbezar that would make Cetina the one to receive it, if inheritance follows the same sort of rules it does from my world. That might have something to do with it. Maybe”

“She's pretty good with a sword.” Something flashed over Verona's face, too quick for Anton to pick up. “I'm not going to be too happy if I find that she's been awake all night and expected to be awake tomorrow.”

Anton nodded. “I think that we would need to have a little chat with our new Bebbezarian friends.”

---[]---

Anton chanted a healing prayer onto Kal, who was sitting on his lap facing outwards. When she woke up she clearly wasn't that well. She needed help to be good enough to ride today.

“I still don't feel great.” Kal told Anton. “But it's getting better.”

“That's the third healing.” Anton frowned. “I think the glyph did some real damage to your body.”

Kal couldn't help but nod at Anton's words. He had spoken aloud very specific healing prayers, which had used up almost half of his reserve, but she still needed work. Thankfully she looked a little better each time. She flexed her hands and straightened out her legs. A tiny whimper escaped her lips.

“I've had it worse.” Kal smiled and lent into his chest. “I feel a little bit worse than when I arrived at Atros. I've forgotten what feeling like this does to you. I just want to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.”

“So do I.” Anton replied, kissing her head. “I'm sure we all do. But we've got a few more days before we can take a proper day to rest.”

“So what do I have now?” Kal asked. “I was sort of waking and passing out last night. How Shawn and Joclyn handled it, I don't know.”

“It should be the prayer power. So you'll be able to heal yourself, other people, enhance your already sharp senses...and make spoons.”

Kal smiled and shook her head. She reached down her shirt and pulled out her medallion, staring intently at the crudely fashioned hands clasped in prayer. “She's answered almost all my prayers.” she clasped the medallion tight and put it back under her shirt. “You told me before that you formed the mana, said the prayer aloud, and then it worked?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. But can you feel something different in your body. Like a heaviness that you didn't know of before? Just try and move your arms about first.”

Kal looked a little confused but did as she was told. She waved her arms about and a frown formed on her face. “I...I can feel something. Like I'm swimming through water, but I'm not being slowed by it. It's...”

“That's your mana.” Anton said. “It'll take a bit to get used to. Anyway, if you can use the prayer power like I can you'll need to try and push the mana to a point. And then you can recite a prayer.”

“How do I move it?”

“I...don't know how to explain it.” Anton replied, a tinge of regret in his voice. “I just sort of knew how to do it. But, with Tethra, it should be a bit easier since you should just be able to recite the prayer and that'll be enough. So why don't you try asking Tethra to heal your body with half your mana?”

Kal pursed her lips. “Okay...Here we go.” She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in prayer and closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, thank you for everything you have done for me.”

I haven't ever said actual thanks to my gods. I hope that they know that I am thankful. Ew...I guess that they're a bit like Cetina, getting a gift and that should do. I'm sure they understand, and don't want a sycophant praising them all the time but I'll do that next chance I get.

“I beseech you to heal my body, using half of my mana.”

Anton couldn't see anything but Kal gasped. She eyes became more focused and her breathing deepened. Kal started to cough, holding her side.

“Are you alright?” Verona asked, looking on in concern. “I thought it was meant to make you better.”

Kal shook her head. “No. It worked. I just wasn't ready for it. I feel a lot better. But I'm not...”

“It's very strong but uses a lot of mana.” Anton began. “I don't know what your mana reserves are like, compared to mine and Verona's, but even with my seemingly vast mana supply it still needed multiple prayers. I don't know if this is part of the activation or you've got a large supply of mana. Either way, we've got two healers in Atros.”

Kal smiled. “Now it means I can fight on the same level as you two.”

“You already were.” Verona chuckled. “I wouldn't want to fight you without my magic. I think I would end like that Orc that you tried to eat.”

“Please don't put it like that.” Kal grumbled. “But, what else can it do?”

“I don't know. That's one of the reasons I wanted to go to Porswea, so we might be able to find books on how to use these magics properly. None of us use a charm, like Zig and Duchess Belinda, and if they don't have any glyph users it might be a bit hard to get a hold of information on how it's supposed to work.”

“That's good, I suppose. Maybe I could make arrows with it...” Kal nodded deeply, a cloth wrapped hand holding onto her chin. She stopped and looked at up Verona. “I...I didn't hurt any of you last night, did I?”

Verona hummed, trying to look innocent. “You scratched Anton's arm and nearly threw me through the roof. Otherwise, no.”

Kal whimpered and shook her head, a smile growing on her face. “Sorry about that.”

“There is..ugh...another thing that happened.” Verona scratched at her head. “Cetina...Well, she saw you. That you're...”

Kal tensed, her fingers digging into Anton's arms and chest. She turned and looked at him in deep worry. She couldn't afford to have her secret found out so soon, and when they were finally moving towards rescuing her mother and her people.

“It's okay.” Verona continued as she moved next to Anton and held one of Kal's hands. “We had a chat. And, with a few goodies thrown in, has promised not to tell anyone.”

“You trust her?” Kal asked flatly.

Verona shrugged. “She said she wasn't going to say anything.” Verona flashed on her power just so her eyes glowed. “I gave her that, and she's got a few more reasons to keep quiet. She may escape her life just yet.”

“Whatever the decision though, it needs to be her own.” Anton said to Verona. “If she wants to make it. If she doesn't then we need to respect it. Regardless, we need to keep moving.”

“You can get used to your own hell.” Kal said quietly. “It can be hard to think you can actually escape, and it just becomes easier to accept it.”

Anton smiled and kissed her deeply. She let out a tiny whimper when his hands tried to caress her back. Evidently there was more work to be done.

“Alright. We'll see what we can do to help. But first we need to see if anyone else saw or heard anything.”

Verona gingerly poked her head out of the caravan. She returned and looked quite relieved. “Nobody's waiting for us, though quite a few people are up and about. Guess Cetina was the only one that listened in.”

Kal, with some help, refastened her cloth wrappings, armour and mask. Verona opened the caravan completely and jumped down the ground. Anton followed and both gently helped Kal down. She took a sharp breath as she flexed her legs. After a few seconds she was fine. Verona stayed right next to Kal while they entered the main camp. Their small camp was a buzz of activity. Bandit Hunters and Bebbezar merchants were preparing a hearty looking breakfast while everyone else was getting the animals and carts ready. Anton spied their horses being well looked after by some Bandit Hunters. Anton spied Virgil and Duran at the center of the camp. He couldn't see Eluria, Sancha or Cetina.

“Good morning our most gracious saviours.” Duran said loudly, reminding Anton immediately what sort of man he was. “After our scuffle last night are you three ready and rested?”

“Did you say scuffle or tumble?” Virgil asked, suppressing a deep yawn.

“For you, I think both are appropriate.” Anton replied.

Virgil and Verona chuckled, even Kal shook her head. Duran looked between them confused before Virgil waved him down. He wasn't going to explain that he slept with his step-daughter.

“But are you ready?”

“I think so.” Anton looked back at Kal. She nodded but it was obvious that she still needed some time and more prayers before she was fully healed. “Yes. Are we having breakfast before we get moving?”

“A quick one.” Duran replied. “We'll be riding hard for the rest of the day.”

Anton spied Virgil desperately trying to not make a face.

“Here you are.” A voice came from behind. Anton turned to see Eluria and Sancha coming towards them with enough small plates for all of them. They were filled with some warm food along with a pile of strange looking nuts and fruit. Sancha tried her best to avert her eyes from them.

Verona looked deeply at the meat. “This isn't Ghlotsm meat. Is it?”

Eluria chuckled lightly. “No. We've tried the meat, prepared by someone that said they knew what they were doing, and it wasn't good. Very stringy and chewy. No, this Razor-Pig and Mole-Rat meat.”

Virgil coughed loudly, finished the piece of meat in his mouth, and then started to pick at the fruit. She must have remembered Verona's blood disk cutting and crushing the fleeing Mole-Rats. And the twitching and dying red mass of flesh.

“Thanks.” Anton said. Kal politely refused. They would have to eat on the move.

“I'm going to get my men ready.” Virgil said. He quickly finished the fruit and nuts and left the meat, handing it back to Eluria. “Sorry. My stomach's not feeling the best right now.”

Virgil gave them a nod before walking away to the largest collection of the Bandit Hunters. To their side Anton spied Cetina, preparing an Ix to pull a cart. Judging by her expression, and the way she carried herself, she had been awake the whole night.

“How long has she been awake?” Anton asked.

“Who?” Eluria asked, a light flutter to her voice. Verona flashed him a questioning look.

“Cetina. She was patrol last night. And by the looks of things she hasn't had a wink of sleep all night.”

“She's a very tough girl.” Eluria replied, Sancha nodding in response.

Anton saw their smiles, somewhat plastic. “That may be true, but Duran, as her father, you should have a talk with her. A proper talk.”

“About what?” Duran seemed genuinely interested and a little concerned.

Anton shrugged. “About everything. About how she actually feels and what she would like to do with her life. She's not doing so well right now and I'm sure she would appreciate it.”

“Just talking things through can make everything better.” Verona added quietly.

“I-”

“I'll talk to her.” Eluria cut Duran off.

Anton raised his hand before she could take a step. “I don't think that's a good idea.” Eluria frowned but said nothing. “I don't really know what's happening in your little family here, and I know that it really doesn't affect me or that it's really any of my business, but I don't want to just let it keep happening around us for the next couple of days. So, Duran, if you actually care about me being your saviour you'll go and talk with your daughter right now. And let her speak her mind.”

Duran's eyes darted around before he sighed and walked towards the carts. Eluria raised out her hand to stop him but he ignored it. The man walking away wasn't the confident and bombastic man that had just been speaking, now he dawdled and scratched nervously at his head while he shuffled his feet. Did he really know and was just avoiding it?

“Who are you glaring at?” Verona asked. Eluria and Sancha were glaring angrily at the three of them. “Aww, did we interrupt whatever stupid little thing you two had going on?” Verona spoke with a silly and teasing voice.

Both women huffed and walked away, not towards Duran or Cetina. Duran had reached his daughter, much to Cetina's obvious surprise. She looked guarded and on alert but started to soften as Duran shuffled while he spoke to her. An awkward smile began to grace her face as she to speak.

“That's nice to see.” Verona said quietly, Kal nodded.

“It is.” Anton replied. “But I think we annoyed some people to do it.”

“Who cares?” Verona asked. “But it looks like it won't be long before we're all going.”

Anton nodded and moved to their horses. Verona snapped her fingers, ran back to their caravan and return with their packs. “Didn't want to give them this. Did you end up talking with Atros?”

Anton pursed his lips. “No. I was a little distracted by Kal's...awakening. I'll have to do it tonight.”

Verona chuckled as she helped Kal mount her horse. Unlike before she couldn't just bounce onto the horse. Verona mounted her own along with Anton.

“Well we've already gone through a giant fissure, crazy cultists, giant Mole-Rats, these Bebbezarians and a Ghlotsm attack.” Verona lamented, her face quickly turning into a smile. “We've still got a few days before we're meant to reach Porswea. What else could happen?”

Chapter 076. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Iron Links

Chapter 076:

Ivano's wrists chaffed against the iron links. The metal wasn't smooth or well made, like the metal that had bound his freedom when he had been caught by the Bebezarian Merchant Lords. Though he received the distinct impression that he wasn't meant to be enjoying his current situation. For some days, he couldn't tell how many had passed, he had been locked in a cold, wet and dark hole. A Clansmen Cell, somewhere no person wanted to end up. Other Clansmen had removed his armour and skins, leaving him with only a few undergarments to protect himself from the harsh elements. Some times he thought he would pass out and never wake again, but he had been through worse. The deep scars on his arm, reminders of a particularly nasty encounter with a flamboyant Bebbezar Merchant Lord, kept his anger growing and refusal to succumb to his situation.

When the cell door finally opened he could barely see. The light was blinding and took him a fair few breaths to adjust, made infinitely more worse by the white snow that covered everything. Someone beckoned him forward. Ivano had not been able to move much and his legs felt weak. Two pairs of hands grabbed him and pulled him out. He blinked furiously to adjust himself and saw the two Clansmen holding tightly on his arms.

“Ivano.” A gruff looking Clansmen grunted at him as Ivano was lead out and into the light. “The Five Great Chieftains have gathered to determine your fate.”

“That's surprising. To go through so much effort for me. Do I get the chance to say my piece?” Ivano asked, his voice raspy and dry. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything in the past few days. And none had been given, and he wasn't going to lap at the few droplets of the water that formed on the walls.

“I don't know.” the other Clansmen said. This one was older, much older, but conveyed a strange sense of dignity and strength. “I think it's up to the Old Gods now.”

Ivano hummed as they pulled him forward. His bare feet crunched in the snow. It had been so long since he felt the ice move and form underneath his feet and draw out his warmth. What little warmth he had.

“Couldn't at least give me some shoes?” Ivano asked. This was likely his last walk, so he might as well try and have some fun.

“I'm afraid that I can't do that.” the second Clansmen said. “They ordered us to bring you as fast as we can.”

Ivano didn't begrudge their actions. They were just doing their duty and he was, in their eyes, a disgraced man.

When he arrived at the first Clansmen town, Arnarfell, he and the remains of the invasion were regarded with suspicion. Initially they had been allowed in, but when the city chief found out why they were there, he was horrified and ordered his arrest. Ivano's Clansmen were too tired and demoralised to fight back, and he was sure that quite a few of them thought that he was the reason that they failed. Brenna had offered to fight but Ivano ordered her away. Snakha had, somehow, already disappeared and Brenna slinked away into the mass of Clansmen as Ivano was captured. The Clansmen and Orcs under his command were sent home but not without a strong sense of shame beaten into them. Where those to went he had no idea and more important things to worry about. For the next few days he was berated constantly by the chief of Arnarfell about his failure. At first Ivano had tried to explain himself, but it was easier to yell back the wind. Nothing sunk through his head, and when they started to beat him when he spoke back he retreated into his mind and ignored them. The chief thought that he had won, then moved from beration to gloating over him. Ivano would have paid any price to punch that mans' face in but that would have achieved nothing. The words that Ivano had spoken to the Grand Mage, at first only to save his own skin, rattled around in his head. He watched and listened to the chief, that largest and hardest hitter, rant and rave endlessly. What reason did he have to lead? His fists didn't make him intelligent, nor give him any skill. What did he know of actual fighting and the horrors of war when he could just bully and intimidate the others to fight for him?

A few days passed before a large force arrived in Arnarfell and took Ivano from the local chief, who apparently was about to hang him for his crimes. It was a small reprieve, a very small one, that they took him to the largest city in the Deweth Clans, its de-facto capital, Rangarvellir. He was brought into the city in disguise, for his own safety apparently, and thrown into the damp and dark cell. They were taking a failure on this level far more seriously than normal. That worried Ivano a little.

“We're here.” the first Clansmen spoke up. Ivano had day dreamed during their long walk. He glanced behind him and saw the city for all it was worth. Rangarvellir had been built in what was once an active volcano. One side of the mountain had blown itself apart and the Clansmen settlement had been built from the rim of the mountain to the base, large wooden long houses dotting the landscape for as far as he could see. Often Ivano had questioned the logic behind building in such a place. Many volcanoes still raged in the Deweth Clans, giant mountains that breathed fire and smoke, but this one was apparently dead. Building so close to one meant that the soil was surprisingly rich and fertile and were some of the few places that crops could be grown. All along the slopes of the volcano he could see farms and orchards, growing the few plants that could grow in the cold and near perpetual falling snow. He stood at the top of the dead volcano, infront stood the largest building in Rangarvellir, the Great Chieftain’s House. It officially belonged to the chief of Rangarvellir but today, judging by the number and variety of Clansmen present outside, representatives from the Five Great Clans had convened to lay judgement upon him. Ivano didn't know if he should be honoured or terrified.

The first Clansmen hit Ivano on the shoulder again and pushed him forward. As he trudged through the ankle deep snow the other Clansmen started to shout obscenities towards him. Ivano simply shook his head and ignored them, which only seemed to increase their anger. Giant oak doors groaned opened as they approached and Ivano was beckoned inside.

Ivano felt a wave of heat wash over him. In the centre of the long house lay an enormous fire pit, a tiny stream of smoke rising towards a hole in the ceiling. Standing around the fire were four large men and one, equally large, woman. The Chiefs of the Five Great Clans. Now Ivano felt a serious pang of worry, his chances of seeing his family again were growing more slim with every passing moment. Not that he seriously that he had any to begin with. The two Clansmen guards pushed him forward to a metal loop sticking out of the wooden floor a few feet from the fire. They brought out a length of fresh steel and wrapped it around the chains binding his wrists and through the loop on the ground. A metal bar with a knob on both ends, at the end of the chain, was moved through a link and turned. The bar was larger than a single link and couldn't be removed in a hurry. Ivano smiled, at least they were taking some precautions.

The five Chieftains beconend to servants hiding in the shadows to come forward. When they came into the light it became clear that they were actually slaves, and only a few of them were Clansmen. Humans, all smaller than a normal Clansmen, and of a wide variety of colours, came forward. Their heads were cast down, a thick metal band tightly fastened to their neck with a metal bar at the back to secure it, and all were covered in bruises of different stages of healing. None were treated particularly well. What was most surprising was that quite a few weren't human. A few Beast-kin moved forward alongside the humans, their throats clasped tight with a slave collar. While Ivano didn't know the different varieties of Beast-kin he could guess that these were canine, or perhaps even a wolf variety. Their faces were somewhat reminiscent of a human's, the general structure was the same, perhaps a little bit longer, but that's where it stopped. Their ears were much longer, those that still had them, and were covered in a mangy fur. Their eyes looked human, if hollow and devoid of emotion, their faces were covered with fur and their noses were a little longer with the small black nose of a wolf. Their hands had an impressive set of claws on them, until Ivano saw that the ends had been clipped short, presumably to keep them from attacking their Clansmen masters. A wolf Beast-kin took a stool and lowered it behind Ivano. He didn't know if it was male or female but he said his thanks regardless, there was no need to be rude to these slaves especially when he could be joining them soon. The Beast-kin glanced up at him, a tiny crease in its fur covered brows, before it slunk away to rejoin the others. Ivano glanced up and saw the others taking a seat and so he did as well.

“Ivano of the Blood Axe Clan.” a deep growling voice came from infront of Ivano as he took his seat. The man in the center of the semi-circle of the Chieftains spoke first. “You understand why you have been brought infront of us today?”

Ivano straightened his back as far as he could. The chains were a little tight so he moved the stool forward, a light groan emanated as he moved it forward with his legs, and he looked over the fire. Opposite him sat Arnkel Iricsson, High Chief of the Blood Axe Clan, Ivano's chieftain. The man was the epitome of what a Clansmen should be. Well over six feet tall and his exposed arms rippling with muscles and scars. He was a bit bigger than Ivano but was far more of a warrior than he. Arnkel had seen battle and war for almost his entire life. Easily into his late fortieth winter and still an impressive man, and still chief and yet to be usurped.

Ivano coughed and flexed his shoulders. “I suppose I am. Though I don't see the need for this.” Ivano tried his best to raise his hands, the metal clinking loudly with only the crackling of the fire to fill the air.

Arnkel grunted, a tiny hint of a smile visible underneath the thick brown beard. Another Chief leant forward. He wasn't as impressive a specimen as Arnkel. This Chief was much smaller and thinner, a golden medallion adorned with bright green and red jewels hung from a golden chain around his neck. Ivano's mind flashed back to Zig, and his charm. He wondered when that whole incident would be brought up.

“You should feel lucky that your corpse isn't feeding the wolves and crows already.” he said, rotten teeth jutting out of a cleanly shaved face. Whomever he was, he was furious. Ivano's mind raced but he couldn't put the name to him.

“Do not interrupt the proceedings.” Arnkel said to the man. “There is still an order to this, regardless of your own feelings.”

The man nodded and returned to his upright position. Whomever he was, he was content to let Arnkel doing the talking. For now at least.

“Ivano.” Arnkel continued. “You are here because of your failure in your last battle, resulting in the deaths of thousands of Clansmen...and the allied Orc clan, the Wrath of Doom.”

Ivano caught the other four Chiefs, even the one with the golden charm, snigger at their mention. Evidently they didn't think much of their allies either.

“Do you deny it?”

“Do I deny it?” Ivano asked. “That I cannot deny.” Again, Ivano raised the links binding his hands.

Arnkel nodded. “Very well. I would be greatly disappointed, no, insulted, if you tried to deny that. But that's not what this is about.” He looked at the others. “However, before our decision is made, there are a few questions that must be asked. Keep in mind that many of the Clansmen and Orcs under your command have already been questioned so we have a decent understanding of what happened.”

Ivano nodded. He was glad that his Chief was, at least on the surface, going to bother to ask questions. “I will answer as best I can.”

Arnkel looked to the man with the golden charm. He smiled, revealing his rotten teeth, to the visible disgust of everyone, even the human and Beast-kin slaves.

“You left with over sixty thousand Clansmen and...Orcs.” again, he forced himself to keep a straight face. “And you return with barely a thousand Orcs and less than half of the Clansmen.”

Ivano frowned as a silence filled the air. “Was...Was that a question, or a statement?”

The man jumped up in fury, a hand reaching for the charm dangling on his chest. Ivano clenched his fists at the sight, even though there was nothing that he could do in his present state. The Chief next to him stood up and threw him back down onto his stool, the charm wielders eyes flashing between confusion and murderous fury.

“Don't you look at me like that, Folkmar.” the other cheif bellowed. “If you ask...no, say, something stupid like that he's going to give you a stupid answer. I would have given you that response.” the Clansmen sat back down, all of Folkmar's rage directed at this Chief. “For your stupidity alone I almost feel compelled to let Ivano go free, no matter what he says.”

Folkmar took a deep breath, closed his eyes and flexed his hands in an attempt to calm himself. “Forgive me. Many men, and quite a few women, from my clan joined your force.” his anger started to resurface. “And very, very, few of them survived. And I want to know what happened.”

I have no idea who this man is, and I can't just keep talking and then have to admit that I don't know. Better not piss him off anymore than he already is.

“Forgive me but I do not know your name.” Ivano spoke flatly, as it was a matter of fact, hoping to not set the man off again.

He gripped the golden charm tight. “Vestar Ailifsson. Cheif of the White Death Clan.”

We aren't the most imaginative when it comes to names...

“Vestar, would you like me to go over from the beginning?”

The man nodded. Arnkel raised his hand. “Please keep to the important details. What you consider important.”

“Very well.” Ivano shifted on his stool. “We left the mountains and headed through the Accursed Forest. Immediately we started to run into problems. Not only were the Orcs not cooperative, and acting counter to combined goals, but we were quickly being picked off by hunters sent by the Qaiviel Kingdom to stop us.”

“You're saying they knew?” the Chief who shouted down Folkmar asked, his grey bearded face full of questions. “That's impossible.”

Ivano shrugged. “They knew we were coming, and killed hundreds before we even left the forest.”

“Hundreds killed by peasants?” the remaining male Chief spoke up, his voice growling like a bear. “I think we should be asking why you should have been in command of this attack in the beginning.”

It was because I could hit the hardest and fight the best of those chosen to lead, but that doesn't make me a good leader. I suppose that's why I'm here.

Ivano frowned and looked towards him. It was one of the few people that Ivano actually recognised. The thick red beard, and the red eyes, were unmistakable. If Ivano was right, he was Mord Selkollrsson, Chief of the Fire Blades.

The Fire Blades are in the North of the Deweth Clans. That means they'll have only attacked Bebbezar and never the Knights of Qaiviel. They've never seen a horde of charging armoured horses.

Ivano's deep marks burned at the thoughts of that place. He focused himself at Mord. “My time in that dark and wet cell has obviously clouded my memory. Where does your Clan normally raid?”

Mord frowned but quickly turned into a smile. “Bebbezar. And we trade with Seocuria. They do have such delicacies for sale.” His eyes leered at the female slaves, and even some of the men, before focusing back on Ivano.

“Bebbezar.” Ivano nodded slowly. “I've fought there a few times. Lovely open grasslands and rolling hills...Have you ever fought in a forest? A forest where you can barely see more than a hundred yards infront of you? Where the middle of the day has almost the same light as the dead of night. Where arrows can fly out of nowhere, kill dozens of your friends, and no matter what you do you cannot find the source? Only to fall into more traps?” Ivano felt himself getting a little angry at the memories, and not just of those from the latest campaign. “Only those that have fought in the forests of Graterious know of what I speak. Being worn down while the enemy just fade into the darkness to strike again and again.”

“I can understand that.” the man who shouted down Vestar spoke up. He rolled up a sleeve to reveal several deep scars on his running up his hand to his elbow, almost as bad as the brands seared into Ivano's arms. How he could still fight with such horrendous wounds? “I received this from a band of Graterious archers in one of their forests. We took a small city and they just fled into the trees. We followed and only I made it out alive. Sixty of us entered and they lost...four? Four peasant hunters.” He turned to Mord. “Don't underestimate something you don't understand.”

Mord's face started to turn red. Ivano was surprised that this was going so well, he expected them to be screaming at him about his faults, and not fighting amongst themselves. He was an opportunity to let rivalries flare. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Unfortunately Ivano didn't recognise the man. The Chief appeared to pick up on that. “You probably wouldn't recognise me. I've only held the mantle of Chief of the Storm Reapers since the end of the last winter. Finally my father decided to step down.”

Step down of his own accord, or was he pushed?

The Chief continued. “My name is Hedin Hroksson, Chief of the Storm Reapers.” he looked at the other Chiefs. “If I had been involved in this I would have told you to not go through the forest unprepared.”

“But they shouldn't have known of our approach.” Arnkel mused.

Definitely can't let them know that it was probably that Grand Mage, Anton, or whatever his name is, that warned Qaiviel.

Ivano also remembered that Anton threatened that he would burn every city and village to the ground if they found and attacked his home, to the south Mount Aspire. Considering what happened at the Gravestone he didn't want to find out if it was a bluff.

“Are we dawdling like old women?” Vestar grumbled, looking at Ivano. “Continue.”

“Eventually we made it out the forest. I sent...Well, in order to get the Orcs to follow my commands, I had to send Zig, the-”

“We know who that man was.” Vestar couldn't hide his rotten smile again.

Ivano coughed and continued. “I had to send Zig to take the small border town of Maxill. That was to serve as a supply base and cut off warnings to the Knight Orders to the south of Qaiviel. That area of the kingdom doesn't have any of the orders nearby. Again...they were ready for us.”

All five Chiefs grumbled, varying in levels of annoyance, but allowed Ivano to continue.

“They were heavily fortified and ready for a siege, when everything we knew said that only a few hundred Orcs would be needed to take it. We...”

Ivano scratched his head. This was the part that he was dreading. The part where the forest burst into flames, and he knew perfectly well who did it but couldn't say everything. He hoped he could hold that back.

“Well?” Vestar asked angrily.

“The forest burst into flames, killing most of the Orcs and Clansmen assaulting the city, forcing us to continue north.”

“This is the first piece we take issue with.” Arnkel waved forward a human slave. He held a piece of paper in his hand and handed it to Arnkel. Ivano didn't know how many people could read in the Clans, but apparently he could. “Stories from survivors say they saw three people run out of the forest on horseback and into the city of...Maxill.”

“I was not there, but that is what I heard as well.”

Arnkel scratched at his beard. “And they say there was lightning as well when they attacked the city walls...?”

Ivano nodded. “Yes. After taking heavy losses they broke and fled to rejoin with the main force heading north, towards the Border Forts to enact the second part of the plan.”

“You left the border city?” Mord asked.

Ivano slowly nodded. “We had no choice but to keep moving.”

Mord said nothing and allowed him to continue.

“We then continued north west towards the Border Forts. Zig, at this time, was becoming quite uncontrollable and disobeying my orders.”

“You should have disciplined him.” Hedin said quietly.

“I considered it, but Zig was the only reason that they even vaguely worked with us.” Ivano said. “He started to attack the small hamlets and villages along the way.”

“I don't see the problem.” Arnkel said, a frown forming on his face.

Very few people shared Ivano's views, that their actions were always doomed to failure, and that they should try to conquer rather than raid and pillage. That their violent actions wouldn't cow the enemy into surrendering but forcing them to fight back, as he had experienced a number of times. This was something that no one present shared.

“The problem was that we were being pursued by a two thousand strong Qaiviel force from Maxill, one that, at the time I didn't believe, contained...two mages.”

“And this is where we really start to take issue with the story.” Arnkel grumbled, looking closely at the piece of paper. “This is where the story becomes a little...fanciful, I may say so. If anyone else were to look at this no one would believe that you lost with the forces you had.”

Ivano nodded. “I'm sure they wouldn't. May I continue?”

Arnkel nodded, none offered any objections.

“Their force increased by a half as they picked up the survivors, most of which were hunters and all filled with rage as they watched their wives, daughters and son raped and butchered by the Orcs.” Everyone was silent at his words. Ivano expected someone to say something about the superiority of the Clansmen and the other humans were lower than cattle. They may have just kept it to themselves this time. “We decided to launch an attack on them with ten thousand warriors, five thousand Clansmen and five thousand Orcs, to crush them. They failed.”

Arnkel passed the piece of paper to the other Chiefs. Ivano waited until they all had a look.

“I agree with Arnkel.” a female voice spoke up. Ivano looked towards the female Chief, the one that had been completely quiet so far, that was equally as large as the men. Her black hair was cut short, and a pair of dark blue eyes regarded him with suspicion. Deep scars crossed the face of someone that would have once been called beautiful, now there was a strange rugged beauty to her. “Are you to tell me that two mages killed ten thousand warriors?”

“Yes.” The smirk on her face disappeared, soon replaced with a look of scorn. He wouldn't have believed it either if ten thousand warriors didn't just disappear.

“Preposterous.” Mord laughed, Vestar nodded with his words. “Utterly preposterous.”

Ivano shrugged in resignation. “I can't make you believe it. But ten thousand warriors departed and none returned. My scouts said that they saw giant pillars of fire rising into the sky, and that they saw bodies crashing into the ground.”

“A mage of that power...Or even two...” Mord looked to Vestar. “Is that possible?”

Vestar looked down at the golden charm, rubbing it between his fingers. “Honestly, no. I cannot use magic of that level. A team, of perhaps five or six powerful fire mages working together could do that. But two...No.”

“I know what happened.” Ivano growled. “After they didn't return we travelled even faster north to the city of Nonbu'rn. We breached the wall, thanks to Zig, he had one of those.” Ivano pointed at Vestar's charm. He shuddered to remember what happened later. “Then we fought our way through the city, loosing even more warriors from archers hiding in buildings and small groups of soldiers, and then we boarded ourselves up in the Governor's mansion. Lightning bolts chased us inside.”

Everyone looked to Vestar again. He appeared to like the positive attention he was receiving. “That...That is possible. A decent lightning mage could do that.”

“At least that's reasonable.” Hedin said quietly.

I'll leave out the bit about our surrender just in case, nobody's here to refute that.

“Zig and I got into an argument and I was knocked unconscious.”

“What?” Mord hid his chuckle. “The man wasn't a man.”

“But he had one of those charms. A silver one with white gems.”

Vestar glared at him. “What sort of magic did it use?”

“This...This white blast. It took out wall, two actually, and blasted me out a window and blinded me as well.” Ivano regretted his last word, as everyone now regarded him very strangely. There was an obvious question that none, to their credit, were going to ask just yet.

“When I came too I was told the battle was over. Our forces had been defeated, the Orcs tried to sacrifice our Clansmen to save their hides, and we were completely and utterly beaten. We were healed, cared for, and then sent home. And then you know what happened.”

“I will ask the obvious question.” Hedin began. “If you were blinded...”

Definitely keep Anton's real location out of this.

“A mercenary, in the employ of Qaiviel, healed me. Yes I was blinded, and near death.” Ivano raised his hands and raised his legs as far as he could. “I didn't get his name, other that he was called a Grand Mage.”

“A Grand Mage...” Vestar picked at his rotten teeth. “And a mercenary at that?” Vestar hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “This Grand Mage could heal your blindness and wounds?”

Ivano nodded. “Yes...I believe he was a follower of Tethra, the Goddess of Prayer. At least that's how he said he healed me.”

That brought murmurs from everyone present, a look of utter shock on Vestar's face. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

“You can't be buying this?” Mord exclaimed. “No one has been able to commune with the Goddess of Prayer in the past thirty, forty winters.” he frowned deeply. “We're supposed to be deciding his punishment for failure!”

“Shut up Mord!” Vestar spat out. “If this is true, this is more important than loosing thirty thousand Clansmen.”

Hedin frowned at looked at the mage. “Weren't you just furious before?”

Vestar clenched his fists. “If...If the Goddess is returning.” he looked behind him. On the far side of the wall were dozens of wooden idols, of the various Gods and Demi-Gods. One was made out of a white wood, clearly a woman dressed in a cloth that covered all her features. Tethra, the Goddess of prayer. “Then I need to know everything.”

Ivano shrugged. “I don't know much else. I felt I warm feeling and then I came back to life, a little better than before.”

“Did he say anything? The texts say that a prayer must be spoken aloud, detailing what must be healed in a very specific way. Hyms and chants.”

“From what I saw, of him healing others, he didn't say anything. I just saw the wounds mend themselves.”

“D-Describe this man.” Vestar was very interested, almost scarily. “Do you know his name? Where he comes from?”

“Only that he was called The Grand Mage and a mercenary.”

Vestar wouldn't relent. “There were two others you said. Describe them.”

“One was covered, head to toe, in cloth. I have no idea who that one was, other than they were a woman. She had a bow and two rusted knives. The other was a...Blood Berserker.” That received more of a response from everyone.

Arnkel cocked his head. “A mercenary Blood Berserker, travelling with a Grand Mage and this mysterious cloth covered woman?”

“How do you know it was a woman?” Mord asked.

Ivano shook his head. “You could tell. The cloth wrappings were very tight around her chest.”

“Shut up Mord.” Vestar snapped. “Explain the Berserker.”

“She was short, silver hair and had red tattoos that covered her hands and neck.”

“What?!” Mord exploded, throwing back his chair as he stood up full of rage. “You dare accuse the Silver Eagle Clan of working with the enemy?”

Arnkel shook his head. “Of course not. No one questions your, or your subordinate, clans loyalty. It's possible that a child was left with a previous conquest.”

The men chuckled, and so too did the female chief. Ivano saw the slaves look even more despondent than normal. The humans had their lives taken away from them while the Beast-kin never had freedom to begin with. Seeing it from this position was quite an experience, normally he would had ignored it but now he felt strangely ill. He kept it to himself and held a straight face.

Vestar shook his hand at Ivano. “A Grand Mage, who can use...fire, lighting and the power of the prayer goddess, a Silver Eagle Blood Berserker and a mysterious woman covered in cloth...You're saying that's what beat you?”

Ivano smiled bitterly. “Yes.”

Vestar laughed, made infinitely more disturbing by the brown and green teeth. “I must know more. There is much to discus.”

Vestar started to rise but was held down by Arnkel. “Unfortunately for you, this is not over. So, you're saying that's what happened? And then you were freed without any ransom demands?”

Ivano nodded. Arnkel looked to the Chiefs either side. “Very well. As Ivano is part of my clan I must abstain from this.”

“He is guilty of failure to the Clans and should be executed by exposure.” Mord said angrily. “His words are preposterous and treasonous and a direct attack against my subordinate clans' loyalty.”

It wasn't a direct attack. Everyone just told you that.

“I must agree.” the female Chief folded her arms. “Loosing sixty thousand warriors in a sneak attack is inexcusable and makes us all out as weak fools. Stories of Grand Mages and Silver Blood Berserker's is just covering for your inadequacies.”

And I don't even know your name.

“If only to find out more about this Grand Mage I am willing to pass on any punishment.” Vestar said. “Unlike these fools I am willing to believe that your words match up with the words of the warriors.”

“As one of the two, no, three people here that have actually fought in a war against actual soldiers.” Hedin smirked at Mord, the female Cheif and even Vestar. “I understand that terrible things can happen, beyond anything you could prepare for, like a Graterious Legion popping out of nowhere, I understand Ivano's predicament. I will say that he is not to be punished.”

It was surprising how honest the Chief’s were with their reasoning, Vestar's especially.

Arnkel shifted on his stool. “In the light of this even outcome, I must say that you are innocent, considering your words are supported by the words of your warriors. Though, there are many questions that still need to be answered.” he looked at the Clansmen guards. “Release him.”

“What?” Mord growled. “You can't be serious.”

“I am.” Arnkel said. “If you have a problem with it you can challenge him to a Blood Duel. But he will need a few days to heal first.”

Mord grumbled and folded his arms, saying nothing more. The Clansmen guards moved forward and removed the chain links binding his wrists and to the ground. Once the metal was freed his hands immediately moved to his wrists to regain some feeling. The skin was raw and tender, his every touch was surprisingly painful.

“Thank you.” Ivano said. “What happens now?”

“We aren't done yet.” Arnkel continued. “You will follow me.”

Mord and the female Chief left in a great huff. They forced the door open, the Clansmen outside coming to their sides. They blew them off and continued storming away, leaving the other Clansmen wondering what happened. A great rush of cold air flooded into the room. Arnkel waved to the Clansmen and the great door was closed. Now it left Ivano with the people who had secured his freedom. He didn't want to say it aloud, unless he bring an angry god's wrath down upon him, but it had gone a lot better than he thought. He expected his head to be cleaved from his shoulders.

“This is something private. We will return in a few moments. “Arnkel stood up, a human slave taking his stool. “Come outside with me.” He looked to Ivano. “And get that man something better to wear. And something for these two to drink and eat.”

A wolf Beast-kin slave, he was certain it was the same one, handed him a thick set of animal hides. They were the same ones that he wore when he was captured. Less the chain mail armour.

“Thank you.” Ivano said as he took the clothes back. The wolf Beast-kin regarded him with suspicion, it's empty eyes connecting with his for a moment, a brief flicker of emotion, before darting away.

They're not as beaten as we've been lead to believe.

Arnkel exited a smaller door to the side, Hedin and Vestar remained infront of the fire and were served food and drinks by the slaves. With no better instruction he decided to follow Arknel. He noticed that several more Clansmen warriors emerged from the shadows, hidden ready to deal with him if he tried to attack, and followed closely behind, their giant axes ready to strike.

Now that his feet were properly covered he no longer felt the cold. How did the slaves manage it when they moved from building to building, or even where they slept? Ivano pushed such thoughts aside and followed Arnkel. The small door led to a set of stone steps that led them further up the rim of the volcano. Wherever it led it wasn't travelled often, the snow had frozen solid and was quite slippery even with his boots. He just hoped it didn't end with him being thrown off the edge. He followed the footsteps in the snow, the Clansmen warriors following closely behind. Finally he found where they were going. At the very highest point of the volcano stood a giant pillar of black stone, easily four times his size. He realised it was a solid stone of obsidian, with not a single flaw in its black form.

Arnkel stopped him when he was a few paces away. “Ivano. You understand that your freedom comes with conditions?”

That was quick.

Ivano nodded. His chief could command him to do practically anything and he would have to follow it, otherwise he would have to challenge him for the position. Thankfully most chiefs weren't stupid enough to think they were a god and listened to their advisors and from what Ivano knew of Arnkel he was one of those.

Arnkel shook his head, folded his arms and looked out to the city below. “The Clans are the weakest they've ever been.” he began. “And we cannot even work together to pull through it. I fear that, one day, the other kingdoms and empires will unite and obliterate us. The snow and cold won't stop them. I can feel it in my bones. This could be the last generation of the Clansmen. Even some of the seers have said the same thing.”

Ivano was silent. He didn't know if Arnkel shared his views about changing the ways of the Clans from raiding to conquest, or perhaps something more peaceful. At least conquest would be more in line with the dogma that is rammed down their throats all the time.

“Mord and Ulfheid are actively working against the interests of the Clans.”

Ulfheid must have been the woman. That would make her the chief of the Wind Walkers. Didn't know they had a female chief...

“What interest is that?”

Arnkel chuckled. “The oldest one imaginable. Survival.” he rested his back against the obsidian pillar. “Tell me, how many of the Clansmen that followed you were young? Rather, how many didn't have a beard?”

Ivano shook his head. “Quite a few. Far more than I'm used to leading. They fought well, considering their youth.”

“True. They had the fire of youth. And now they're dead.” he sighed and turned to look behind the city. “When my father was young, Rangarvellir covered the whole mountain and well into lands beyond. Now look at it. Just at the slopes on half the mountain. The others might not see it but we are a dying people. The Thieves don't even need to invade our lands for us to fall.”

Ivano frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

A smile came to Arnkel's bearded face. “Because I know that you have...different views to the others.” Ivano felt a chill wash over him but he kept his face straight. “One of the people you told came running right to me. But, I agree with them. Hedin and the Storm Reapers agree with me, that's another reason why they came to your defence. And it seems Vestar is going to support us, especially if your words about the Goddess of Prayer returning are true.”

“It is. I saw it myself.”

“You'll need to talk with him more about what you saw there. Although...” Arnkel frowned deeply. “I get the feeling that you know more about this Grand Mage than you let on.”

Should I say something? Definitely not where he lives.

“He spoke to me. He wanted to know who we were and what we thought we were doing in Qaiviel. He also said that he was sent by the Old Gods to fight off Demons that were threatening this world.”

“The man sounds a little crazy.” Arnkel spoke softly.

“He seemed more than convinced that it was real. He...He did ask about travelling to our lands to learn more about the Old Gods.”

Arnkel grunted. “He would be killed by the same fools that just kill everything they see that isn't one of them.”

“I told him that and he sounded quite disappointed.”

Arnkel hummed. “Is there a way to find these people?”

“Not that I know of.” Ivano replied. “Though, they would stand out. A woman with the blood of the Silver Eagle Clan would be very noticeable.”

Arnkel thumped his fist onto the obsidian pillar. “A thought for another time. For now I need you to depose Mord Selkollrsson of the Fire Blades.”

Ivano remained stunned for some time. “What?” he managed to blurt out.

“His clan is antagonising the Bebbezar Kingdom to such a level that they are preparing an invasion of our lands. The first time in over a thousand winters. Many Clansmen will die before the cold drives them back.” Arnkel looked towards Ivano. “I know that he is planning yet another raid into Bebbezar, and I am powerless to stop it. And you cannot challenge Mord for control of the Clan.”

“Would they even follow someone like me, who doesn't have their blood running through them?”

“They will when his head is rolling on the floor.”

Ivano had never heard of something like this.

“As of right now, your standing within the Clans can go no lower. However, I can send you and some of my warriors along with the raid into Bebbezar. If you can garner enough prestige from the raid you can challenge Mord for leadership of the Fire Blades.”

“Do I have a choice in this?”

Arnkel shook his head. “No. You're life still hangs in the balance of the failure to destroy the Qaiviel Border Forts, regardless of whether or not it's your fault. Unfortunately that means that you'll have to earn your way into their ranks the old fashioned way.”

“I...” Ivano couldn't finish. He didn't want to tell Arnkel that being able to beat another man half to death didn't make one a better leader. The other Kingdoms and Empires didn't, and they always beat the clans back. Always.

“If you do this I'll make sure that your family is kept safe.”

Ice water rushed through Ivano's veins. He looked closely at Arnkel. There was nothing on his face that appeared threatening, he was too smart for that, but Ivano knew that this was one.

“I would like to see them first.”

Arnkel shook his head. “There is no time. Mord will be leaving Rangarvellir soon, he only came to see our clan humiliated, and will be starting the attack as soon as he can.”

Ivano sighed. He hated being used in a political move like this, but if it worked, perhaps he could start to change the Clans from within. At the very least see his wife and children again. He hardened his nerves and nodded in agreement.

“Okay. So long as they are safe and I can see them when this is done.” Ivano said. He waited until Arnkel nodded before continuing. “What would I have to do in that dammed land?”

“You are familiar with the Merchant Lords of Bebbezar?” Ivano nodded but he didn't want to think about them too much. “There is a particularly troublesome Lord in the city of Thessos. One that has been a constant problem to the Fire Blade's raids. If you capture him, and his family, and present it to them, they'll have no choice but to acknowledge you. When you're there you can challenge Mord to a Blood Duel.” Arnkel chuckled. “He'll probably see through it but he, like everyone in their clan, they have a very quick temper, so use that. You'll have to be creative when you think up the insults. Try and find his sexual preferences, if all else fails.”

Ivano sighed again. “I'll need a map of Bebbezar. And the name of whomever I need to kidnap.”

“The map will be easy enough to get. The man you want is the Merchant Lord Gavriel de Yscar. Very wealthy, and very powerful with a massive personal army. You are to bring him, his wife and two daughters, to Mord and the Fire Blades Clan. That will get you close enough to them to challenge Mord for control.”

Ivano's mind had completely gone when he heard the name 'de Yscar'. That was the name of the man that tortured him, branded his arms, and killed his fellow Clansmen brutally infront of him before letting him limping back to the Clans in shame. Although, the name Gavriel wasn't right. It wasn't the name he heard over and over again when he could smell his flesh being roasted. When he was forced to watch the blood being let free from his friends throats, as they writhed on the ground hopelessly trying to stem them flow. It was Duncan, or something like that. Ivano felt his anger rising but he forced it back down.

Arnkel waved behind Ivano, the Clansmen warriors moved forward. “These men will make sure you make it to Brenningr, safely. Vestar will have to wait to interrogate you for information on the Grand Mage, though I'm sure that there's not that much more you know about him. I hope to hear of your success, not only capturing the Merchant Lord but also having Mord's arrogant head separated from his shoulders. I will see you soon.”

Arnkel turned to look over the city, signalling the end of the conversation. The Clansmen warrior motioned for Ivano to follow. He gave a final glance back, knowing that his life, and the lives of his family, weren't in his own hands and that he was a pawn in a much larger game. He regretted ever trying to take the leadership of the campaign in the first place.

Chapter 077. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Frozen Stone

Chapter 077. Vol 3 - Frozen Stone:

Ivano felt so much more secure now that he was back in his normal armour. Thankfully, and a little strangely, the Clansmen hadn't torn or set it on fire. Instead they had carefully folded it up and made sure it remained clean and in top condition. Did that mean the whole trial was just a show? A formality that had to be run through first? Ivano brushed such thoughts aside. There was no way Arnkel could know that Vestar would change sides so quickly once he had heard the Goddess of Prayer may have returned. And Mord and Ulfheid certainly seemed to want him dead.

“Ivano.” a voice came from his side. “Keep moving.”

Ivano looked to the source of the noise. It was the Gruff Clansmen, one of the two who had escorted him to the meeting of the Great Chieftains. He and the younger Clansmen were travelling with Ivano as well to make sure he made it to Brenningr, even though there were another six heavily armoured Clansmen from the Blood Axe Clan. These two weren't going to make much of a difference.

“You know that you two aren't going to be much help.” Ivano replied. He didn't know their names yet, nor had they offered them.

The Gruff Clansmen shrugged. “We have our orders and we're going to follow them.”

Ivano looked back at the other Clansmen. They were better armoured than most Clansmen Warriors, or the soldiers of the lowlands, he had seen before. Each wore the thick furs over and underneath their armour, but the metal armour was what caught his attention. Ivano, and the two Clansmen, wore steel and iron chain mail. That was enough to stop most arrows and took out most strength of an axe strike. The six Blood Axe Clansmen, however, their exposed metal armour was a strange mixture of the dull grey of the steel chain links while there were many segments that were made from a strange blue metal. Ivano had only seen this metal a few times in his life, the most important time was in Bebbezar. A rare metal called Chelium; an incredibly light and strong blue metal that becomes stronger the longer the metal was worked. He had no idea where it was mined or how it was forged but he knew it was quite rare. Ivano was surprised at the quality of the Clansmen that were being sent with him. He got the inkling feeling that they were going to be coming with him beyond Brenningr.

Now that he was no longer worrying about his immediate future, and having his head removed from his shoulders, he could actually look at the town of Rangarvellir. Arnkel's words rang true, they became even more true the further he looked. The city was in a very bad state. While some of the buildings were starting to fall apart, nothing that Ivano hadn't seen in a thriving Clansmen city, it was the people that surprised him. Old women trudged through the icy roads, through its encumbering mixture of ice and mud, overloaded with withered and sickly looking game and what passed for a meager yield. Ivano wanted to help but there were hundreds of them. It was a poor state when the elderly women had to do such work. Even the orchards that he could see were using slaves to pick what little food was available. The slaves wore very little and their fingers were swollen and starting to turn purple. It appeared to be a constant struggle to keep themselves moving. The Beast-kin slaves were doing a little better, but not by much. How strange it was that the human slaves were envious of the Beast-kin's natural fur coat. Either side of the road the few stalls sold sad fish and pathetic looking vegetables. The sellers looked utterly despondent just like the few buyers, especially with prices so high. Even the children, who Ivano expected to be running about in a mad burst of energy, drudged through the mixture of snow and mud. He felt a small pair of hands brush against his thigh, immediately smacking away the source. A child yelped and ran away, a flash of anger on his face that he had been caught trying to steal.

“Do you want us to get him?” one of the escorting Clansmen asked.

Ivano shook his head. “Look at him. He's all skin and bones. I doubt he'll last the night if he doesn't get food and somewhere warm to sleep.”

The child continued to run away and disappeared behind a building. Ivano continued walking in silence until different people started to fill his view. Either side of the road sat despondent looking Clansmen, seemingly uncaring that the snow was building on their heads and around their bodies. Many were tattered and raggedy, most had missing limbs and eyes. Clansmen warriors that had lost horrendously in battle and had been cast out of their homes for being deformed. Now that they could no longer fight like before, and couldn't find any other sort of work, they had no choice but to beg for money or food. Most had a crudely carved wooden sign infront of their near frozen hands stating how they were wounded and why they should receive pity. Judging by the empty wooden and clay bowls, and tattered bundles of rags they weren't doing well. He could only see a few copper coins, and those were being eyed off by terrifyingly crazed and hungry Clansmen.

Ivano's eyes were dragged to one sign held between two middle aged Clansmen, the words were a little hard to read but it said something that he knew to be impossible. Both men were missing an arm. They way they sat it looked like they were joined at their stump of a shoulder. When he stopped so too did those escorting him. He looked down at the sign.

“Are you saying that you both lost your arms in a Chimera attack?” Ivano asked.

Both men looked up. The accumulated snow fell off their heads in great sheets, even their eyelashes were frozen and covered in a light smattering of snow. When they blinked the ice cracked and shattered free.

“Yes.” they replied in unison. Now that they were being spoken to they appeared quite alive. One of the men looked down at the meagre offerings in the bundle of clothes. He held up the three copper coins, encased in snow, and frowned deeply.

When the man moved Ivano spied a large axe resting behind him. Judging by the colour of the blood on the head it was relatively fresh. He couldn't see any more blood in the snow, but he guessed that someone had tried to steal their meagre offerings.

“In the Clan's territory?” Ivano asked.

Both men frowned and glanced at each other, a spark igniting behind their eyes.

“That it was, good Chief.” the other man said. “A ferocious battle where we managed to slay the beast, but lost our arms to strike the killing blow.”

“The rest of your hunting party took the credit for the kill, and denied us our rightful prize.” The first man continued. “And now we are here.”

Ivano nodded. “You know that Chimera's are extinct? The Qaiviel Kingdom wiped out the last of them before even any of us were born?”

They said nothing and held his gaze.

“What are your names?” Ivano asked.

“Arlid.” the first Clansmen said.

“Arvid.” the other Clansmen nodded weakly.

“So how did you really loose your arms?” Ivano asked, much to the growing annoyance of the Clansmen escorting him. “I mean, I've lost my freedom when I failed my kill.”

Arlid and Arvid glanced at the Clansmen warriors surrounding Ivano, their eyes lingering on the Chelium links in their armour.

“They're to make sure that I make it to my destination and I don't run off.” Ivano smiled at the men behind him, who looked like they were a few moments from ordering him to keep moving. “So how did you loose your arms?”

Arlid sighed and scratched at the stump. “Ice...”

“What?”

“Ice Goblins.” he said weakly, Arvid looked weak at hearing it said aloud. “Ice Goblins. We were guards on a caravan heading towards Rangarvellir. We just make camp for the night when, out of nowhere, thirty of those little bastards came running at us. We could barely see them, there wore white wolf fur coats that made it impossible to see them against the white snow.”

The man seemed incapable of going on further. Arvid groaned weakly and continued for his weak comrade. “We managed to kill them all, but they killed everyone except for Arlid and myself. Even we didn't manage to get away with it completely unscathed.” He moved to show the flush stump.

Ivano nodded. “They like to cover their weapons with their own shit. I guess that your arm started rotting after the battle?”

Both men nodded. “We had to cut them off. They had already started to turn green.”

If the Prayer Goddess was still around, and the priests could still work her magic, they could have healed your arms. Maybe even bring them back completely. That Grand Mage, Anton, was able to heal me...I'm pretty sure that I had a broken back along with my blindness. I wonder if that means that he could regrow an arm? I'm a little annoyed that I won't be able to find that out for some time.

“And no one from your family, or any of your friends, would take you in?”

Both shook their heads. “Our home is quite poor, the land is very hard to work and the animals are few and far between. If you aren't fully abled, like we aren't, you can't help and are only a burden on their food supplies. So they kicked us out.”

Both men looked down quite despondent. Ivano felt a pang of empathy and sympathy for these two men. They hadn't been raiding the low lands, the Thieves Kingdom's, but it instead been trying to make a honest living for themselves by protecting traders from the horrors that infested the Deweth Clans.

“Can you still fight?”

Arvid smiled, reaching for the bloodied axe behind him. “That we can. That we can. Had to take the hand off of some little bastard that thought that they were going to try and steal what little we had.”

Probably one of those kids. Some of them looked like they might have been missing a hand.

“Well, we're heading to Brenningr to join in on a raid into Bebbezar.” Ivano looked to the Clansmen guarding him, they understood what he was alluding to. “By the sounds of things the journey might be… A little rough in some places. A few extra hands, and axes, would be a great help. There might even be some wealth and honour in it for you if you are willing to join.”

Both men looked at each other, then to the Clansmen surrounding Ivano, and shrugged. They slowly stood up, the snow falling off of them in great sheets. They still wore their armour and thick furs, that explained why they had and frozen to death in the snow, and it looked to be in relatively good condition. Ivano didn't know if they would be actually good fighters but a few extra hands wouldn't hurt. It would also help to have a few people on his side, for bringing them out of their hell, that he could reasonably guess were not under the control of one of the Great Clans. Anything to help him survive and make it back to his wife and children.

“Alright.” Arlid said. “Lead on.”

---[]---

Ivano was a little disappointed that they weren't offered fit and young horses that were adapted to the extreme colds of the land. They were offered older horses. Not that they were weaker, they were just more tempermental and refused to listen to their commands as readily. It seemed that the Clansmen warriors were not too impressed by Ivano picking up two, essentially drifters, into their little group. It meant that there were not enough horses for all of them. Arvid and Arlid were fine with resting in the cart that would carry their supplies. They had enough to reach Brenningr so long as they didn't take any major detours. Ivano told them quietly that if they tried to sneak any of the food supplies they would be dumped in the middle of nowhere and left to fend for themselves. They didn't even try to offer a counterpoint, they understood perfectly what was expected of them.

He was shocked to see the state of the city wall as they left Rangarvellir. Even though there was only a slim chance that the city would be attacked the wooden and stone wall was in a particularly bad state. Giant holes had emerged in the wall that had been filled by compacted snow. The wood appeared rotten in most places and he could only count a few dozen Clansmen on the wall. Ivano shook his head. Anyone or anything could just climb up the snow, or simply shovel it away and make a ramp and then they would be in. There was essentially nothing to stop beasts or monsters from attacking the people within. The Clans were in a terrible state if this was their capital.

They travelled in silence for some time, on an old stone road covered by a thick layer of snow. It seemed that nobody had come this way for the whole of the day. The snow wouldn't have had time to cover their tracks yet. This was another reason why the Clansmen needed to change. The emphasis on raiding and pillaging the Low Lands meant that peaceful activities, like trade and farming, suffered immensely, so too did their cities and villages. Their lands were nowhere near as wealthy as they thought, most of that wealth was locked in the chiefs that raided the most successfully, encouraging others to do the same and ignoring their lands for the promise of easy wealth. Why work when you could take it from someone else? And everyone was trully begining to suffer from this way of life.

The white snow covered pines and ground travelled seemingly endlessly once they left sight of Rangarvellir. However, despite the trees, Ivano barely saw any signs of life. Even the land appeared to be slowly dying. Occasionally he saw the odd track from a wolf in the snow but that was all. No signs of the herds of game that he remembered as a child. He hoped that it was just like this near the larger cities where they had over hunted the animals and the more remote areas would be fine. Like his home. It would be sometime before since Ivano could see his home. He wondered what his wife and two children were doing. It would still be a few more days before he should have arrived back home if he had succeeded. They would be terribly upset to know that he was about to head back into the fight again. Normally he would spend a whole season with them before heading back out but that wasn't an option this time. He knew that Arnkel had, unsubtly, threatened his family. There would probably be Clansmen warriors on the way there now, and his family wouldn't know. There was no way for him to get a message out without the others seeing, perhaps his two new friends could do something once they arrived at Brenningr, but that was something that he would have to figure out at a later date. His wife wasn't some weak princess from the lowlands. She was more than strong enough that she could beat him if she had to, and his children were pretty tough as well. He hoped they would be alright as he sent them a silent prayer.

Finally, when the sun was straight above them, they found the first signs of human life. Resting in the middle of the road was a large merchant cart, pulled by two massive Ox creatures and eight men around it. It appeared to have thrown a wheel and the men were trying their best to get it back. When they looked up they waved them over.

Ivano heard a groan from the two new men at the back. Both were sitting on large crates full of food, but it was the weapons that they held tight in their hands that concerned Ivano.

“That's not right.” Arvid said quietly. “We shouldn't help them. Keep moving and don't stop.”

“Indeed. We should keep going, with our weapons out to scare them off.” Arlid added. Ivano could barely tell the difference between the two, so he was almost guessing at who was who.

“Why shouldn't we help?” the younger Clansmen asked. He had been silent this whole time and looked quite nervous and unsure of himself. Ivano guessed that this might have been his first time leaving Rangarvellir.

“Foolish boy.” Arvid hissed at him. “Look at the wheel. Just look at it.”

Ivano strained his eyes as hard as he could. The thrown wheel looked perfectly fine. Was that was the duo were getting at? When he glanced back both nodded.

“They need help.” the young Clansmen said again.

“Something doesn't seem right but we can't just ignore them.” Ivano said. “Everyone keep your eyes open and your weapons ready to fight. But don't look like you're going to fight.”

Everyone nodded, even the young Clansmen, as they slowly approached. A Clansmen at the cart smiled and moved forward. “Hello.” he began, Ivano's mind grating underneath an obviously forced tone. “We're glad to see you. We threw a wheel and we're struggling to get it back on. Can you give us a hand?”

Now the gruff Clansmen looked back at Ivano. He didn't look to happy about helping them.

“How did you throw the wheel?” Ivano asked.

“We hit a hole back there.” the Clansmen trader looked back at the cart. “It's a bit heavier than we first thought to lift it back up.”

Eight big people can't lift it? And you haven't taken the goods off the back to make it lighter? Those two are right, something's up.

Ivano looked behind the cart. If the cart was heavy enough that eight people couldn't lift it, it should have thrown up stones and dirt behind the cart on the same side as the broken wheel. The snow was completely flat and undisturbed, no sign that dirt or stones had been mixed with the snow. Even though it was lightly snowing there was no way for that to have disappeared. None of this was sounding good.

“I see...” Ivano trailed off. “We-”

“What's with those tracks?” Arlid said, pointing his free hand to the side of the cart. Along the side of the road, and up into the pine trees nearby, were tiny depressions that looked like they had been filled in poorly. Those trees, with their low and thick branches covered by snow, looked perfect to hide an ambush.

“Yeah.” the Gruff Clansmen spoke up. “That-”

The cart Clansmen clicked his tongue and, faster than Ivano had seen done before, drew and threw a small axe at the Gruff Clansmen. The axe struck his unprotected face, a tiny spurt of blood and he fell off his horse.

“Told you!” Arvid said. “Bandits!”

Both brothers jumped out of the cart, their axes ready to fight. Ivano had guessed that their axes, which were designed to be used by both hands, would be too unwieldy to use. There was no time to test that out now. As the Gruff Clansmen fell to the ground the younger Clansmen cried out in shock. Ivano's escort looked equally surprised but recovered quickly, bringing their horses into a run and charging at the Clansmen Bandits. Ivano remained where he was and got off his horse. While it may have been a little cowardly to say so, he didn't want to die fighting some bandits, especially when he still wanted to see his family again. Arvid and Arlid remained near the cart, because they had not been ordered to move or they wanted to protect the food he didn't know. Ivano doubted they were a part of this. He had talked to them on a whim.

“What are you doing?” Ivano said to the Young Clansmen. He simply remained staring blank at the dead Gruff Clansmen. Ivano reached up and pulled the man from his horse, the beast emitted a terrifying scream and fell over. Another throwing axe struck the horses neck, sending the beast into a blind panic. It bucked wildly and ran away to the opposite direction of the trees. Where the covered tracks came headed towards.

As Ivano looked up the trees shook violently and snow poured off their branches. A screaming horde of Clansmen Bandits came thundering down towards them. Ivano knew the look in their eyes, there was no reasoning with these fools. Only one side would be leaving here today.

Ivano took out his axe, it felt a lot heavier in his hands than normal. His time in the dark and wet cell had done more damage than he first thought. Arvid and Arlid readied themselves to fight, so too did the Young Clansmen but Ivano felt he was running on rage rather than something more reliable.

“Just us four?” Ivano asked aloud. He looked over at the cart with the other Bandits. The Clansmen Warriors were doing quite well against the Bandits. Their superior armour, strength and weapons were winning the day, though they didn't seem to be used to fighting on horseback. They kept their distance, to keep stray swings from chopping off their legs, but none of the bandits had fallen yet. They would do better by fighting how they knew and on foot.

“Kill them!” a Bandit from the trees yelled. He, and ten more Clansmen bandits ran down through the snow, cheering and screaming as they charged.

“Well...” Arlid smiled. “At least we won't be dying freezing to death.”

Ivano smiled bitterly at the twin's bravado. At least they would go out in a small blaze of glory, though Ivano wanted to survive no matter what.

A pair of younger bandits broke free from the charging group and raised their axes to strike, rage and spittle flying out of their mouths. These were much smaller than a double bladed axe, not that they were small by anyone's standards. Ivano readied himself to take a step back, what he normally did when someone tried to strike him with an axe, when Arvid and Arlid dove infront of him. With a speed that Ivano had never seen of one armed men, they swung their large axes towards the stunned younger Bandits. The axes tore through their armour and into the flesh bellow. Great spurts of blood erupted as the two bandits crumpled to the ground, their chests twisting in odd ways. That gave the others pause, even the man Ivano guessed to be the leader.

Who are these two? Are they gods that have taken human form for their own entertainment? Whatever. I'm glad I picked them up.

Ivano glanced over at the Clansmen guards fighting the cart Bandits. They had finally decided to dismount and were fighting on foot. A few Bandits had already fallen and the others were not doing so well. They had not expected to be fighting actual warriors, probably some poor merchant that was trying to make a living without violence. Ivano turned back to the remaining Bandits. Now that they had gathered in once great clump their confidence returned, their wild smiles came back even more wicked than before. Ivano didn't know if they could beat them, but if they could hold until the Clansmen warriors had dealt with the other Bandits they would easily win. Arvid and Arlid retreated to form a line with Ivano and the Young Clansmen.

The Bandit leader smiled and rested his leg on the Gruff Clansmen's corpse. Ivano felt the anger of the Young Clansmen. Ivano guessed that the Gruff Clansmen was his father, maybe an uncle of some sort.

“Are you just going to stand there like a rock or are you gunna fight?” He spoke a slow and deliberate way, though Ivano thought that it might not entirely that deliberate. He seemed to have the appearance of a man that wasn't too bright.

“We can wait.” Ivano said with a smile. He didn't offer any further words. He was playing for time, something that he was sure that the others would soon realise. He just needed to wait for the other bandit's to be killed. Judging from their screams it wouldn't be that much longer. The Bandit Leader appeared to realise this as well.

“Fine. Just give us your food and gold and we'll be on our way.”

“What about the cart?” Ivano asked. “Is that yours? Or, if I go looking, will I find some dead merchants and traders underneath those trees up there?”

The Bandit Leader looked behind him and smiled. “Well, you guessed right.” He shrugged, his ragged armour clinking with every movement. “But I think that you knew that already. And that we were going to kill you anyway.”

Another scream erupted to the side as another Bandit fell. It appeared this Bandit Leader didn't really realise that he was running out of time. Instead he began to stomp on the Gruff Clansmen's corpse, trying to elicit a response. Ivano, Arlid and Arvid did nothing, while the Young Clansmen tried to burst into an attack. At the last moment Ivano grabbed him and held him back from his charge, one arm gripping around his waist. It only served to amuse the Bandit Leader and his fellows.

“Hold on.” Ivano hissed at the Young Clansmen.

“He killed my father!” he screamed back.

Ivano wrestled with him back as the bandits started to encroach upon them. Their backs were against the cart and they had nowhere to go, not that they were thinking of running away in the first place.

Five Bandits struck at once, their rusted and old axes swung that their heads. Ivano dived forward and tackled one of the bandits, throwing him back and stunning the surrounding two. The Bandit looked very surprised, his rancid and wet breath was only a few inches from Ivano's face. Ivano ground his teeth and struck the man in his groin with a small axe. The man howled in pain, dropping his weapon and clutching at his crotch as he rolled about on the ground. Arvid and Arvid quickly dispatched the bandits striking them with a single strike. Their large axes and smaller frame, due to missing one arm each, made the bandits underestimate them, for which they paid dearly. The Young Clansmen brutally finished off his bandit by slicing open his neck and stabbing repeatedly in the open wound with a small blade retrieved from his wrist. Ivano can feel the anger radiating off the young man. He hoped that it wouldn't consume him even though it would be totally understandable.

Now the Bandit Leader looked quite afraid as Ivano regrouped with the other three men. There were only two of the bandits with him, and the screams from the bandits at the cart had stopped. They all looked over and saw the Clansmen warriors were returning. They were bloodied, and looked a little wounded, but they were ready to fight. The Bandit Leader had no such intention to fight. He simply turned and fled towards the tree line, leaving the two other Bandits momentarily stunned before they tried to run as well.

The Young Clansmen shouted angrily and threw an axe at the back of one of the bandits. It struck him square in the back, the man gasping for breath before falling face first into the snow. He tried to run forward but Ivano held him back. He didn't know if there were any more bandits lurking in the shadows, or that he could actually win against the larger Bandit Leader. He flashed Ivano an angry look but began to calm down, his thoughts turned to his dead father, lying in the bloodied snow.

“Are you alright?” one of the Clansmen warriors asked Ivano,

“Yeah.” Ivano looked at his axe. “First little fight I've had in a while. Would have been easier if I hadn't been thrown in a wet and dark cell.”

The Clansmen warrior simply shrugged and looked at the dead Gruff Clansmen lying on the ground. They said nothing and proceeded to collect the scattered horses and started to loot the dead. Perhaps there was something valuable on them, or at least to tell them where they came from.

Ivano looked down at the Young Clansmen, the grief palpable on his face. “What's your name?”

The Young Clansmen sniffed and whipped away tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “Erik” The Young Clansmen replied. "I wanted to go with him. I begged him. And now..."

Ivano reached out for Erik's shoulder. It was trembling and shaking. He turned around and looked straight at him.

"Why did you stop me?" there was an anger bubbling in his voice. "He was the one that killed my father!"

Ivano had been lucky in that regard. His father had passed away peacefully and so had his mother. He knew he couldn't possibly understanding what Erik was going through.

"You're no good to your father if you're dead too." Ivano spoke quietly. "He would be furious to see you only a few breaths later. That man was a lot bigger than you and I don't think that you could get away with it. Now you can at least burn your father properly."

Erik nodded, tears streaming down his face. He opened his mouth to speak when the branches above them, where the bandit leader had ran, smashed and broke apart. It sounded like a charging horde of knights were about to descend upon them. They all looked up and saw the Bandit Leader running down towards them. Ivano raised his axe to fight, even Erik barred his teeth, but something was wrong. The man was fleeing, his arms flailing wildly about without any weapons. He ran past them, sweat pouring off his face as his eyes had contracted to tiny dots, and continued through to the other trees on the other side. Ivano glanced at everyone as they began to look worried at one another.

"Get ready for anything." Ivano said, not that anyone needed his words.

The trees began to shake and rock violently as something big and heavy came towards them. Ivano started to feel rather ill and worried. Out of the trees his fears were realised.

“Fucking hell.” one of the Clansmen warriors yelled. “Stone Men!”

Giant men, taller than even the largest Clansmen by over a half, emerged through the snowy trees. But these weren't men, not in the normal sense. Each wore a solid brown stone like armour that encased most of their body, a large black pauldron on their right shoulders. Their faces though, that's where the horrors started. The skin was grey and blue, devoid of life. The cheeks had sunken in, their skin taught and their lips had receded so their teeth were always barred. Their eyes too looked hollow and empty, a milky uniform yellow that held no iris's. A black and brown stone helm covered these sunken and dead looking faces. Their boots and gauntlets were black and made from the same material as the rest of their armour. Ivano knew from experience that their armour was exceptionally hard, not as strong as Chelium but far stronger than any steel or bronze. In their hands they wielded a large mace and shield made from the same brown stone.

Ivano had fought these monsters only a few times in his life. He had no desire to fight one of those creatures, let alone over a dozen.

“What are they doing here?” Erik asked.

“They're drawn to dead flesh.” Arvid replied. “But it doesn't make sense. The battle is only been a few moments. So where...”

His thoughts were answered by a fresh Stone Man emerging from the woods. In one hand he had the frozen remains of a half a man, dressed like a clansmen trader. The blood coursing through him had frozen solid, so too had the guts that had tried the spill out from the Stone Man's grip. At least they knew why the Stone Men were here.

“Guess those bandits killed those traders early in the morning for the Stone men to have smelt that.” Ivano said quietly. “How many of them are there?”

“I count twenty.” Arvid replied. “More shadows are coming through the trees.”

That was simply too many for them to fight. Even if there were twenty Clansmen, armoured like the warriors escorting Ivano, he doubted they would win.

“We need to run.” Ivano said, much to the disgust of the Clansmen warriors. “There's no way that we can win this. We've got enough horses, we're just going to have to leave the supplies behind. ”

“What?” one of the warriors shouted back. The Stone men were not waiting for them to decide or to finish their chat. They started to descend upon them, wading through the snow like it wasn't even there. Even the Stone Man with the dead body advanced, eating and trudging behind his fellows, all in silence other than the groaning of their stone armour grinding against itself.

Ivano wrangled his horse and readied to mount. “I have orders to get to Brenningr, and so do you. And none of you will be able to do anything ever again if you're eaten alive by Stone men. We'll just hunt for some food when we're safe from these things.”

That got everyone moving. Except Erik. He remained by his father's side as the Clansmen readied the horses and Arvid and Arvid hopped into the back of the cart and dumped all the supplies. The supplies would, hopefully, distract the Stone Men long enough for them to get away.

As Ivano mounted his he looked at Erik, standing defiantly over his father's corpse with his axe ready to fight. There was no way he could take down one Stone Man, let along the thirty that were encroaching upon him.

“You have to leave!” Ivano shouted. “If you don't want to die you're going to have to run. It's not honourable but you have to do it.”

Eric did nothing save brandish his axe at the Stone men. They barely even recognised his presence as they moved towards them. They didn't consider him a threat. Arvid rushed off the back of the cart and reached Erik's side. The young man turned towards him, only to receive a punch to the gut. Erik bent over and Arvid took the boy in his arm, handing him over to his brother who threw them into the back of the cart. Arvid went down to his father's corpse and moved a small chain around his neck. The Stone Men were now only a few dozen feet away. When Arvid hopped onto the cart Ivano whipped the reins and got the horses moving as fast as they could. The Stone Men quickly disappeared behind them as they raced through the snow. They were not renowned for their speed, thankfully.

They travelled onwards, for some time, before they even thought of slowing. Ivano was sure that the others would try to mock him, saying that he was a coward, but he had actually fought some of those creatures before and he had no intention of dying out there. And then being eaten by a seemingly soulless monster. Finally, when the sun was directly over their heads, they decided to stop for a moment. They were still some distance away from the nearest village but they needed a moment to get their heads together and work through what just happened to them.

The Clansmen Warriors simply hopped off their mounts and sat in the snow, some finding a snow covered pine tree to rest against. Erik said nothing and simply looked at the simple metal chain in his hands. That was all that remained of his father. Ivano doubted they would be anything left for to bury or even burn. The Stone Men never gave up of meal if they could help it. Ivano simply dismounted his horse and rested against the cart. He took several deep breaths to being to calm his heart, his hands were shaking violently as he ran them through his hair. Arvid and Arlid, strangely enthused by today's events, came up to Ivano, a strange grin on their faces.

“I'm glad to know that I'm not about to become food for those dead creatures.” Arvid said.

“I think that goes for all of us.” Ivano replied. “I'm wondering why those creatures are so close to the capital. They normally live on the extreme north and the far east of the clan's territory, not this close. We'll have to warn the towns and villages that we passed that they are on the move. Though why they would be moving...”

Ivano wondered what was making those creatures roam far beyond their normal reaches. Was something stirring them up, and forcing them out? He had no idea.

A grumble in his stomach brought him back to the present. “I haven't eaten anything in some time. And I told you to dump the food so we could get away. Looks like we'll be going hungry for a little bit longer yet.”

Arlid looked around and pointed out a bush covered in snow. Ivano could see many small purple berries covered in a sprinkling of snow. “We can eat those. It won't be the same as a good wolf or a rabbit, but he was going until we reach the next town.”

Ivano nodded and motioned for them to start. He turned his attention to Erik, still staring at only thing that remained of his father. Ivano tried to open his mouth to speak, to say something to cheer him up a little bit, but all Erik did was turn to him with a burning hatred. The young man must have wanted to die there, defending his father's body, even though he must have known deep down in his heart that it was ultimately pointless. At least it would have been a honourable end. He decided not to say anything and turned to the endless snow behind them. The Stone Men, even if they gave chase without stopping to eat the numerous corpses, would still be some distance away and probably wouldn't even reach them by nightfall. They would probably wander off in search of more food rather than take a long and ponderous chase. He sighed loudly as the duo returned with the berries. They ate some, just to prove that it wasn't poisonous, before Ivano gave one a chance. They were good but not enough to sustain themselves. Sometimes he thought that the Low Landers, the thieves Kingdom's, had things a lot easier than they did.

Nevertheless, grumbling about it wasn't going to make anything better. He took another deep breath and readied himself as best he could for the remaining trip to Brenningr. It had barely been half a day...

Chapter 078. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - The New Heroes Pt.2

Chapter 078. Vol 3 - The New Heroes Pt.2:

Janet saw the strike coming from above. Her senses were now far when she was a human, almost like it was beyond even instinct. Her right arm moved and deflected the rusted iron sword. The green creature recoiled, it's small arm breaking at the elbow under the strain of the deflected strike. It howled in pain, clutching at the loose and flopping arm, as it turned its beady yellow eyes towards her. For a moment Janet's former job as a nurse tried to take hold, to help this poor creature. Before she took another breath it charged again, its right arm flopping about uselessly as it tried to strike her with just its claws. She took a step back and slashed her sword upwards, slicing apart the guts of the green creature's distended stomach and spilling it's green, grassy innards. The strike continued upwards and through it's chest and smashed apart it's jaw. The momentum of the creature carried it towards her before slamming into the grass infront of her. Remembering her brief training she thrust her sword into its head and cracked open its skull. The creature didn't even whimper as life left its form.

As Janet took deep breaths to steady herself a slow clap came from behind. “Well done. Well done, Janet.” She looked back and saw the Elf Captain, Taranath Vunyth, approaching, several male elven warriors nearby. Unlike the rest of the Wood Elves he appeared to be quite old, about fifty to sixty years old if he was a human. However, during their brief practice sessions, she knew that he was a very skilled and powerful warrior. He smiled, the only honest smile she had seen since arriving in this place. “You have just slain your tenth Green Goblin.”

Janet didn't know what a Goblin was supposed to look like, the stories of her youth didn't match those creatures with what she was seeing now. These were small deformed humanoids with a bulbous green stomach, with only a ragged piece of rabbit skin to cover its groin. She looked down at the dead creature and another nine dead around lying still around that.

“I don't know if I should be glad to kill a creature like this.” Janet said. As she turned back the armour she wore clinked and rattled, like the smallest wind chime. The Wood Elves gave all of them a set of the same armour that the soldiers wore, with a bright red piece of cloth around their arms. It was a lot lighter than she thought it would be, so too was the sword and shields they had each been given. Janet struggled at first, her mind still remembered her old body and tried to compensate on this new one. After a few days she had a decent understanding of her new body.

“Of course you should.” Taranath smiled and gently held her shoulder, his hand barely touching her shoulder so as to not invade her space. “These vile creatures prey on any sort of intelligent beings that they can get their grubby little green hands on. Every sentient species has to deal with their predations. Some do it better than others.”

A shout came from in front. A red banded Wood Elf was being surrounded by five Green Goblins. They stabbed at him, their rusted swords and spears unable to find holes in the armour but chipped away at his strength. He was struggling fighting so many at once.

“One moment.” Taranath raised his hand, a bright green light gathering in his palm. Out of the bright light tree vines grew as his mouth muttered an incomprehensible set of words. The vines grew at a rapid pace and formed a bow, a strange bow that appeared to be alive. He said something again and a vine arrow grew out his hand, the arrow already nocked on his bow. He drew back the bow, a strange groan emanating from the living wood, and fired the arrow. It flew straight, striking the Green Goblin in the neck. As the arrow started to draw blood and pierce the flesh the arrow began to bloom, vines sprawling out of the wound. Within a second the vines began to grown like a tumour, travelling underneath and rupturing the Green Goblin's skin, literally sucking the life out of the creature. Within two seconds it was dead and replaced with a mound of vines roughly forming to its shape. Taranath summoned another four arrows and dispatched the remaining Goblins, leaving the red banded elf stunned and staring at the strange circle of vines that surrounded him.

“One day you'll be able to do that.” Taranath said. “If you work hard enough.”

Janet smiled and nodded as warmly as she could,. She had no intention of staying for any longer than she needed to. There was something about this place, these people and this goddess they worshipped, that gave her the creeps. When they approached the man he freed himself of the vine statues and made his way to them. Janet didn't recognise his face, other than that he was a male and young. She only knew Dustine and Jacob's, not that she wanted to know the latter any better.

“Thank you for rescuing me.” he said in a light voice, his head taking a tiny bow. “I thought-”

“No time for that.” Taranath snapped, the man jumping in surprising. “We're still in a battle.”

“I...Okay.” he bowed his head again, raised his sword and shield, and returned to the battle.

“That goes for you too. You need all the experience you can get to defeat even the weakest Demon. These Goblins are nothing like those creatures, but at least you won't get killed instantly by these things.”

Janet took a deep breath and readied herself for the battle infront of her. All thirty five of the Human Elves, those that had died and had been brought to this world, had been ordered to clear out a large Green Goblin nest. The nest had been built into a tangled mess of trees and what appeared to be a fort of some kind. An old Wood Elven fort. Currently they were struggling to take the ground before they even reached the base of the tree fort. They had support from the other Wood Elven soldiers, and Taranath, but they were mostly left to their own devices. Taranath had assured them that there were only a few hundred Green Goblins and that wouldn't be any trouble for them. It didn't put Janet at ease, especially with how badly they were going.

I can't think too deeply about what I'm doing. I've never taken a life before today, and it goes against everything I know. Lord, do I take the lives of these creatures so that I might live?

Her mental musings were stopped by the arrival of another wave of Green Goblins. They appeared out of crevices in the trees all at once, like they had some sort of plan and weren't just mad and deranged beasts. She readied her sword and shield as they approached. It seemed that the decision had been made for her. The first Green Goblin, wielding only a crude wooden spear, charged straight at her. Remembering what little they had been taught, she took a step forward and dug her foot into the ground. When the Goblin was within striking distance she swung the sword, snapping the wooden spear like paper. It looked surprised as the sword continued and struck its face. The metal cut through bone and sprayed blood everywhere, even onto her. The other Goblins didn't worry about their friends death and continued their charge. Now there were two attacking at the same time, not out of a plan but opportunity. These attacked in the same way and they were dispatched by a single swing that cut through their weapons and heads. Whatever the metal the sword was made out of it was incredibly sharp, far more sharp than anything she knew could exist, even in a hospital.

When the last Green Goblin fell she felt a strange rush of energy flow through her. She was old and experienced enough to recognise the sensation, adrenaline and excitement. She made a mental note not to enjoy the sensation too much. There were no more Goblins nearby so she took a quick scan of the surroundings. The other Human Elves were struggling, but they were improving. Each swing was a little more confident and the Goblins were inflicting less strikes on their impossibly strong armour. Within half a minute all the Goblins outside the tree fort had been killed. Now there were just those on the inside. She saw Dustine and the Human Elf Taranath rescued come towards her. Both were covered in blood and looking emotionally worse for wear.

“Janet.” Dustine said, her beautiful elven face covered by specks of blood. “How...How are you taking this? I'm...”

“I'm just taking it one step at a time.” Janet replied. “It's all very confusing for me. I mean, I worked around blood and dying people all the time but nothing like this.”

“Thank you for help me.” the man said. “I thought I was done for.”

“What's your name, Dear?”

The man cocked his head, his elongated ears twitching in surprise as a strangely childlike and playful look appeared on his face. “Why are you speaking like that? You aren't old?”

Janet frowned deeply. “I'm actually eighty, young man.” she jabbed him with the edge of his shield and took the wind out of him.

He smiled and rubbed the end of an ear, the tip starting to turn red from embarrassment. “Sorry. This is all so new to me. My name's Percy. I-”

“Sorry to interrupt you.” Janet cut him off, much to both of their surprise. “But Taranath is right. We've still got a fight going on.”

She looked back and saw the Elven Captain looking towards them, impatience plastered over his face. The living bow was still in his hand. If Janet was honest that thing was the most terrifying thing she had seen all day.

The other Human elves were forming into small groups and getting ready for the next phase of the assault. Janet didn't know anything about how wars were fought but felt it was being handled very badly. There was no organisation and everyone was just expected to work together without any experience or real training in team work. Even though she knew nothing of war, a hospital couldn't work without everyone working together and an established hierarchy. Did they just expect one to form naturally? With everyone terrified of their new existence and the source of their troubles fighting alongside them?

With no answers, and a battle still to be fought, she readied her sword and shield. Dustine and Percy moved behind her. She felt a little odd becoming almost the de-facto leader of this little group. As she made her first step something stopped her. She looked back to Taranath, the older elf frowning as their eyes made connected.

“Taranath.” Janet yelled back. “Do you have any suggestions on who we should proceed?”

He looked a little chuffed, that someone was looking for his advice. After their brief training exercise most had the impression that they were ready for anything. Janet had overheard him arguing with the elven princess, Aeirlaya Luyarus, about their readiness. He argued that they simply weren't ready and needed considerably more training before their first mission, something that Janet agreed with, while Aeirlaya argued they needed to go now and that experience in the field would be all they needed. Invoking the name of the Eternal Majesty put Taranath in his place and he acquiesced to her request.

Taranath smiled and pointed to his head. “Make sure you keep your helmets on and stay alert. Keep together and take it slow. If you don't know what it is, don't touch it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Janet turned forward and readied her weapons again. “I guess that's the keep your wits about you thing that I heard in movies.”

“Which moves are those?” Percy asked.

Janet ignored him and advanced towards an opening in the tree fort. She glanced to the side and saw the other Human Elves doing the same thing. At least they wouldn't be going in alone.

The moment they entered the fort Janet felt herself gagging on the smell. Evidently the Green Goblins were not heading outside to go to the toilet. It was horrific and overpowering, doubly so with her Wood Elf body and its enhanced senses, that it nearly caused her to simply run away. She pushed through it, breathing through her mouth. The smell was lessened but still present. Now there was something else underneath it, though she couldn't put her finger on it.

When they had taken a few paces in they heard a shout. Before they could move any further a dozen Green Goblins set upon them, the narrow corridor formed by the trees making them appear like a tide of angry green flesh spurting out of the wood wielding wooden spears and rusted swords. Janet backed and formed a wall with her companions shields and braced for the charge. The tide of green smashed into their shields, Janet felt the anger through the strength that was being forced upon them, and nearly started to tip over. She thrust her sword between the gap between the shields. Something screamed as she wounded an attacker. The strength pushing upon her shield weakened and allowed her to push it forward. Percy and Dustine attacked alongside Janet and the Goblins were quickly dispatched. They took a moment before they continued. With hesitant steps they moved over the dead Goblins and deeper into the fort.

Janet, seemingly decided upon to be the leader, led them slowly through the small passageways of the tree fort as shouts and clanging of metal resounded around them. It was impossible to tell exactly where it was coming from but, most importantly, it made it difficult to hear if something was coming towards them. A few branches started to emerge in the passageways. Janet only dared a peek down the smaller passageways, she didn't want some Goblins to sneak up on them later.

They travelled for some time before they saw any sort of life. Ahead, in a large room within the passageway, she could see Human Elves and Green Goblins fighting furiously, the Goblins outnumbering them six to one. Just as Janet was about to order them to help she found herself inwardly groaning, something that she had expected her old age to take away from her but constantly came back. Jacobs, and what looked like his whole gang, were fighting furiously against the Green Goblins. It looked nothing like the graceful movements of Taranath's teachings or the nervous stabbings of most of the Human Elves. This was rage, pure and simple. They hacked and battered their opponents, and were doing quite well considering the lack of skill. Janet scrunched her eyes and ran to attack. No matter what person he was she wasn't going to just watch him die. Jacob's eyes darted towards her in surprise, nearly receiving a wooden spear to the face, then back to the Goblins in front of him. Now that the Goblins were set upon on the rear there was little hope for them. A few screams, flashes and spurts of blood, and they were dead.

“Never thought I'd say thanks to you.” Jacobs grumbled. “So I'm not going to.”

“You're still an arse.” Janet mumbled back to him, keeping her attention towards the center of the fort.

Jacobs laughed. “Who knew the old bag had a sense of humour.” his eyes narrowed. For a moment she thought that he was about to attack them but he looked behind to one of his gang members, panting furiously with his hands digging into his knees for support. “And what the fuck's wrong with you? If the old lady can do it, then so can you!”

“I've...I've never had to do something like this.” he whimpered out. He wiped his face clear of the sweat that covered it, the skin underneath looked deathly white. “Never.”

“Harden the fuck up.” Jacobs boncked him on the head with the side of his shield, the man crying out in pain. “The old lady can do it, the woman and that young prick can do it, so you can as well. And you thought you were supposed to be tough.” Jacobs shook his head. “Just think of it as a video game. Just, you only get one go at it. On second thought, just think it's like life.”

The man shook his head but rose up anyway. His hands were shaky as he held his sword and shield low. If he could fight Jannet didn't know.

“So, where now?” Percy asked.

Jacobs growled at the man's question. Percy moved behind Janet to avoid his stare. He seemed quite terrified to have his gaze upon him.

“Well.” Jacobs started. “If this is supposed to be some sort of tree fort, and it looks like it's round and you can just walk in from anywhere, then I would put all my important shit in the middle.” He pointed his sword down the passageway. “So that's a good decision as any.”

“Why would you say that?” Dustine asked.

Jacobs shrugged. “Staying here ain't gonna' fix anything. And I want to get me some good food, drink and maybe one of those elven women if I can convince them.”

The gang members, bar the recovering one, chuckled, even a few licked their lips. Janet and Dustine grunted in disgust. Jacobs simply shrugged. “Whatever. If there's a reward for clearing this thing than I'm gonna get it. You chumps can help if you want.”

Jacobs led his men deeper into the fort, the recovering man giving them a final nod of apology before following.

Dustine leant around to Janet's ear. “Are we going to follow them?”

“Sure.” Janet replied. “But we'll stay well back. Just in case something happens.”

“Shouldn't we be at the front to help them?” Percy asked.

Janet shrugged. “We should. But I don't think that he's the sort of person who's going to look after his friends all that well. Don't you think?”

Percy hung his head low. “Sorry.”

Why did you say it like that?

As Percy offered no explanation Janet was forced to let it drop for now. They grouped together and followed. A few dead Green Goblins littered their path, even one that looked like it had been burned. This one was jet black, Janet quickly realised that was it's actual skin colour, and covered in rudimentary wooden and rusted iron armour. Janet pointed her sword to it, the others nodding when they saw it. They would need to handle these Black varieties with caution.

They caught up with Jacobs barely a minute later. He, and his gang, were standing perfectly still, their swords and shields not raised to fight.

“What are you doing?” Janet asked in a soft whisper.

Jacobs only shook his head. “What the fuck?” he spoke even more softly than Janet. She didn't even know if he had heard her.

She approached him, looked over his shoulder and nearly wretched at what she saw. An unspeakable horror lay infront of her. The center of the fort, quite a large open area, was filled with naked women in varying stages of pregnancy. Human women. For a brief moment she wanted to move forward to help them but she couldn't. A gang member wretched, again and again, but Jacob's didn't reprimand him. A woman weakly moaned as a green mass slid out from between her legs. Janet felt her heart turn to ice. It was a baby Green Goblin, ugly and screeching as its diminutive hands clawed at it's mother's flesh on her legs. It was not the only one writhing about, there were dozens of the baby Goblins crawling about. One, its skin dried and its umbilical cord gone, crawled towards Janet. She froze as the creature stopped a few meters away and looked up at her. It was angry, even though it couldn't have been more than a few days old. It barred its already yellowed teeth and hissed at her.

What sort of creatures would be so angry? Lord, what horrors have we uncovered?

The baby Green Goblin rose up onto its weak legs and took tentative steps towards them. Its hands reached up to strike her, the imbalance was too much and the Goblin fell back down, the look of hatred and anger never leaving its face.

“Are you blind?” a voice came from behind, breaking them out of their trance. Taranath was behind them, as well as the few Wood Elf soldiers. He frowned deeply at them and shook his head. “Those are Goblins that you need to kill.”

Janet looked down at the approaching Goblin child. It was less than a meter away and still angry. A strange noise came from behind as an arrow shot past, striking the Goblin in the head. Vines consumed the Goblin in under a second, nothing remained of the small creature.

“Those creatures don't care who you are.” Taranath said as he moved past them and infront of a human woman. “They capture and breed with any female they can find. This is what you'll find at the center of any Goblin nest, no matter what colour. Green, Yellow, Blue, Amber, Black, Blue, Purple or Red. It doesn't matter the colour, they'll have someone captured there...breeding an army.”

“We...” Janet glanced and saw that everyone else was still too stunned by what they were seeing. “We need to help them.”

Janet moved forward but was stopped by Taranath. His hands were far more powerful that she thought. As he looked back more Human Elves entered the room. Some had wounds on them but were immediately stunned by what they saw. Taranath sighed, a deep look of sadness on his face. “There's nothing you do to save them. Their minds have been broken, not that I would expect anyone, human, elf, dwarf or beast-kin to survive such an atrocity. There's only one thing that can be done for them now.”

He moved towards the center of the room, not caring the he stood on and crushed the heads of the Goblins underneath his feet, and raised his sword over the head of the closest pregnant woman. He looked back again. “If we leave them here as they are these Goblins will grow into adults and start this whole thing again. That is something that we cannot allow.”

“But...” Percy started, his head drooped when Taranath looked towards him.

“It is despicable what we must do.” Taranath thrust his sword into the chest of the pregnant woman and into her heart. She gave a final gasp as life left her. “But it must be done. This is something that you will need to get used to if you want to survive here.”

I don't want to get used to it.

Taranath made sure that each of the Human Elves killed at least one of the pregnant human women each, though he did make sure it quick and relatively painless. In all her life Janet had never felt so sickened. She was the last to kill one of the women, the sword hit one of her ribs as it pierced her heart. The look of the woman, as life left her, was filled with anger and relief, both directed at her. It was an odd sensation.

With the last of the women dead Taranath ordered them out. Janet couldn't just leave, even though everyone else, including Jacobs and his gang, appeared more than happy enough to go. She knelt down next to the woman she had killed, for the crime of being raped and used to breed these little green monsters. All of the children had been killed and Taranath said that those still not born won't make it to their adult forms without help. Something caught her eye on the dead women. She only noticed it now that she was so close. It was their wrists and ankles. Old and deep bruises covered them. She had seen this before, when someone was bound for a long period of time. She looked around, the sight of all the dead was utterly revolting, but there wasn't anything that looked like metal or even rope bindings.

A sickening thought grew in the back of Janet's mind.

These...Goblins, didn't have anything other than wooden weapons, which are easy enough to get, and rusted metal weapons. They didn't make those metal weapons. And these binding marks....Were the Goblins given these weapons and women? As a test? These poor people...

Janet scrunched her eyes and stood up. Taranath was waiting for her to finish, he wasn't going to interrupt. She couldn't ask him. Even if it was the truth he wouldn't say anything and it would arouse a tremendous amount of suspicion. She resolved to keep it to herself. Taranath followed her and left the room.

Once outside, and into the fresh air, Janet felt her mood improve a little. It was amazing what a change in scenery and smell could do. Taranath waved some of the Elven Soldiers forward. They brought out wooden torches and lit them, the same green fire that the other Wood Elves used, and threw the torches at the fort. The green flames engulfed the fort and soon it was nothing more than a green roaring inferno.

Taranath waved all of the Human Elves together. They didn't look to happy, all were rather emotionally drained from their experience. “Congratulations.” he spoke calmly, the taking of the innocent lives meant nothing to him. “You have just survived your fist battle.” Janet didn't miss the sneers of the Elven Soldiers on her periphery. “It may not sound like much but every battle is important. There are quite a lot of things that you will need to learn if you are to survive. Many of you actions were lacking, especially considering how quickly you were thrown into battle.” A twitch overcame his mouth, one which he hid very well. “We will return home to rest. I advise that you all do that, as you will be going back into battle tomorrow.”

Taranath turned and walked back to the way they came, everyone else was expected to follow. Janet took one last look back at the burning tree fort. She hoped that the human women would forgive them, but it gave her some hope. There were humans nearby, somewhere. That meant there was somewhere other than this strange forest with these strange elves.

---[]---

Their new bodies allowed them to move at speeds that Janet never thought possible. What she would have considered a fast run was now a gentle walk. This new found speed did lead to some problems, as their minds were still adjusted to their human bodies, but it was amazing how quickly they covered ground. It took them a little over an hour of running through the forest before they reached the Wood Elf city. From the outside it was virtually indistinguishable from the trees that formed and surrounded the city. Once they passed a particularly thick hedge the forest cleared and they were inside.

They still weren't allowed to wander around this city, something that the surrounding Wood Elf Soldiers made clear with their presence. One Human Elf stopped to try and admire the scenery but was pushed forward.

All around she could see the Wood Elves going about their lives. During their brief forays outside Janet had tried her best to understand the world she was stuck in. She didn't see anything like industry, if that word even applied to this way of life. What she could see were hundreds of elven men and women working and carrying food. The men wore loose fitting pants and open shirts, the women wore essentially a sun dress. They wore gloves and boots that appeared to be made from interwoven leaves bound together with a gold and white metal, the same as their armour. Both sexes were working in perfect harmony, there seemed to be no distinction between them as they worked. There were giant trees bristling the strange looking fruit of impossible size. The elves clambered up the trees without effort, snapped off the fruit and dropped it the elves below. They caught the dropping fruit, sometimes without even looking at them, and placed them in giant baskets. Others were bringing back dead animals, slung over their shoulders. She saw elven children running about in play, some helping their families, all looking like a massive happily family.

The moment they realised they were approaching their attitudes changed. The adults stopped their work, rapidly climbing down the trees and to the ground, and gathered near the children. They hurried them away, the children looking rather confused, and gave them a wide berth. Janet, once again, became acutely aware of how much they were regarded as foreigners and freaks. She didn't know if the other Human Elves recognised this yet.

Taranath led them towards the large bunk that they were sleeping in. He stopped them just before the door.

“Again, I would like to congratulate you on your first victory. Food will be provided to your shortly. Once you've eaten you should get some rest.”

Taranath gave a final nod and opened the door. Inside was the same open and spacious room as before, small green crystals hanging from the ceiling that illuminated everything in a strange green hue. There was something different waiting in the room. The Wood Elven woman, Aeirlaya, stood before them, wearing the same extremely revealing clothing she did before. Upon seeing them she smiled, clapped her hands wildly as she deliberately pushed up her breasts. Janet saw that quite a few of the men looked in awe at the sight. Strangely, Percy didn't have any visible change, not even a downward glance. Though she shouldn't judge someone because they weren't leering. She made a mental note to keep herself from judgement.

“I am so glad to see you all alive and back safely.” Aeirlaya spoke with soft, but unmistakeably fake, concern. “We will see to your weapons and armour. Some of you will have to tell me of your heroics in battle.”

Her words restored uncomfortable memories amongst all of them. Everyone groaned lightly and shuffled awkwardly, Aeirlaya tilted her head in confusion.

Taranath smiled. “First they must eat and rest.” He looked straight at Aeirlaya, his face blank. “You and I need to have a...discussion.”

Aeirlaya smiled, a flash of annoyance, before she nodded and walked past them. A few eyes trailed on her behind but far less than Janet thought. Everyone scattered the moment the doors closed, very few said anything and left for their rooms, leaving Janet standing with Dustine, Percy and a young female Human Elf she didn't recognise.

“I...” Dustine looked around. “I really just want to curl up into a ball and cry. I don't want to do anything like that again.”

“I...” Percy looked to on the verge of tears, great beads of water formed in the corners of his eyes. “I don't want to be here anymore!” tears flowed from his eyes, his head head leaning back as he started to bawl. “I just want to see my mummy again!”

The unknown Human Elf held his hand. It seemed to calm Percy a little. Something was nagging at the back of Janet's mind. It stemmed from one of the first things that she heard upon arriving at this strange world.

“Percy, Dear.” Janet said softly. “How old are you?”

Percy sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Eleven. And my sister, Sandy, is twelve."

The unknown human Elf raised her hand and waved it weakly at Janet, every action felt unsure and unsteady. Her face looked a little similar to Percy's, if not perhaps a little older and a little more feminine. It was a little difficult to tell with these bodies.

It dawned upon Janet, a horrible and disturbing possibility had been put in front of her. Not only were their bodies not their own, now it seemed that they might be someone else's. Their souls, of every age, thrown into these new ones. Perhaps that was why the other Wood Elves looked upon them is with such disgust and scorn. Where they once friends and family that sacrificed themselves, willingly or not? It may Janet's skin crawl. At least it would explain why they were lying virtually naked on the floor of the giant marble temple. Had the bodies had already been laid there, ready for their souls to enter from wherever they had been collected?

Janet didn't want to think about it any more than she needed to, that the forms they were residing in were literally husks. There would be time to think about it once they made their escape “Sandy, Percy. I know this is a little difficult to speak about, but how did you get here? I don't remember seeing you on the bus. Which one were you on? Were you on the bus were people tried to rob you?”

Percy and Sandy both shook their heads. “No.” Replied Sandy. "We were just on the way home from school. We were at the front of the bus, the lights were green and we went through. The bus driver let out a terrifying scream and we smashed into another bus. Next thing we know we are in that strange dark place with the lady with the long flowing green dress. Then everything went black and ended up here.”

Janet took both children's adult hands and held onto them tight. “You are both very brave you know that?” She spoke in the most gentle voice she could manage, even though her own was starting to crack up. “I don't know of any children they would not be just bawling right now.”

Percy and Sandy looks each other with deep worry in their eyes. It seemed that only by them being brother and sister, together in their terrible present, were they still able to maintain any sanity in this world.

Sometimes the strength of children defies expectation. Dustine and I, as the adults here, need to be strong for them as well. I suppose that we can all be strong for each other.

“So what happens now?" Percy asked.

“Well...” Janet brought both of the children, forced into adult bodies, closer and Dustine as well. She glanced around to make sure that no one was listening. There was nobody left in the large room, amazingly everyone had seemingly decided to go to bed. Even Jacobs and his gang members had decided to seek oblivion in sleep rather than contemplate what they had seen or try and seduce some Wood Elf women. “If I'm perfectly honest with you, I don't want to stay here a minute longer than we need to. This was just one fight and I do not want to go through another. Ever. I do not want to see those creatures falling to my blade, nor do I want to have to plunge my sword into the heart of an innocent young woman again. I never thought I would actually kill is someone in this world, but I have. Someone that didn't deserve it, someone whose only crime was being kidnapped and brutalized by those disgusting little green creatures. So...I say that we run away.”

All three were silent for some time, Dustine was the first to make any sort of noise meant that she actually understood her words. She found deeply, and brought her face within millimeters of Janet's ear. “Are you crazy?” She asked in a hushed and furious whisper. “We have no idea where we are going, or what the world is even like beyond the forest walls. Beyond the forest it could all be desert or ice, endless miles of nothing and nobody. We could be chased and forced back here, and then what would they do to us?”

“I am eighty years old and I am not going to be a pawn in some game that I made no decision to be a part of.”

Sandy nodded her head furiously. “I...I don't want to be here either. Everyone looks at us like we really bad people. That we've done something wrong, and we've only been here are a few days. I hate it. And I want to go home.”

Jack smiled back warmly as she could. "So do I Dear, but I don't think it's going to be that simple. We aren't exactly in our bodies anymore.”

Percy and Sandy looked to their hands, holding them up like they were ill-fitting gloves. Their minds were still used to their 11 and 12-year-old bodies, not these gangly forms.

“There must be a way.” Percy said with great enthusiasm. "If they got us here than the must be a way to get us back.”

“I don't know Dears.” Janet shook her head. “But I don't really want to be here much longer. I don't know how that everyone else feels...”

“How would we get away?” Sandy asked. “I don't see any way that we can get away from here.”

“I don't know.” Janet replied. “There's quite a few things that will we would need. Food, water, a map, and a distraction big and long enough to keep these Wood Elf Soldiers, and anyone else they decide to send, off our backs long enough until we are well, well, past where they can reach. Then we can find somewhere to hide and figure this whole thing out.”

“That sounds really hard.” Dustine said. “Not to mention that any getting any of the first three would attract serious attention. They give us more than enough to eat but they make sure to clean up everything that we leave behind. So there's no chance of us slowly building a hoard of food. I'm pretty sure the same could be said for water. And I'm sure they check our rooms when we are gone.”

“I didn't say it would be easy.” Janet chuckled, a rare smile coming to her face. “But there is also something else that we need to do. Something that I, and I'm sure that the three of you, will not find pleasant.”

Sandy frowned. “And what's that?”

“We need to learn how to fight. Better than what we did today. Better than the other soldiers. And better than Taranath. We need to be better than all of them, and it's only going to be the four of us. And I have no idea how many of them there are. I don't think this is the only city, village, whatever you want to call it, in this world. There could be tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, of these elves. All which would better soldiers, better warriors, than us.”

The other three looks rather despondent. Jana didn't know how well Sandy had fought in the battle but she guess he was just as badly as Percy did. Her body was not her own, her arms and legs did not respond in the way her mind wanted it to. That was something both of them would have to deal with if they were to escape, or even survive, this world. Taranath said that the daemons that they were here to fight were far, far, more powerful than the Green Goblins. And she had no doubt that the Elven Soldiers were far better than they were right now.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Dustine asked. It seemed to be more of a confirmation than an objection.

Janet smiled. “I overheard Taranath and Aeirlaya arguing before, probably like they are now, about how ready we were to actually fight those Green Goblins. He said we won't ready while she said that there was no time for us to continue to practice. I think that we can use that. Use Taranath to make us stronger and better warriors, fighters, so we can, at a moments notice, escape. We might even be able to get better armor and weapons, maybe not the same that he has but far better than what we've got. It might be enough to get us out of here.”

“Are you going to go and find him now?” Percy asked.

Janet looked towards the door. She couldn't hear arguing, or even speaking, on the other side. Perhaps the two had gone someplace far away to have their little discussion.

“I will." Janet replied. “I'm far older than all three of you combined, so if there's any problem with me trying to walk around to find him I'll deal with that. You three go and do what you were told, go and have a little rest and then get some food into you. I think that Taranath is right and will need everything we've got to see this through. And that doesn't mean staying up late while we'll have yet another battle tomorrow.”

Three nodded, somewhat nervously, and left for their rooms. Janet wondered if they understood what they were actually talking about, what she was actually getting them into. She didn't know if she was actually serious about running away, but the idea of doing something constructive, that wasn't just fighting and killing, gave her the strength to keep going. Janet took a deep breath and and open the door, strangely it wasn't barred or locked.

She looked along the dirt path and towards the large marble temple they arrived in. Halfway between the their building and the immaculately manicured moss covered stone pathway stood Aeirlaya and Taranath, clearly in a heated argument. Aeirlaya flailed her arms about wildly while Taranath simply watched on with a bored but controlled expression. Finally, when it appeared her words were falling on deaf ears, she threw her arms up dramatically in the air walked away from the marble temple in a great huff. The well practised, almost sultry, walk was gone now, replaced by a strangely defiant fast stride. Her choice of attire, with most of her rear and backside on display, made the whole thing very odd to watch. She could see the look of exhaustion and a thinly veiled look of disappointment on Taranath's face. He shook his head and hung it low before turning back towards their bunk. Janet realised there was no way that she could hide herself so she decided to take a small modicum of initiative. She took a deep breath and walked towards him. He was very surprised to see her.

He froze for a moment before frowning, then slowly forming a smile. “Janet. What are you doing outside?” His words seemed to be a genuine curiosity, not an implied threat.

“I was actually going to ask you something.” Janet began. She took a quick look towards Aeirlaya, still storming off in the distance. She quickly reached the large wooden building that they first brought them to, threw open the doors and stormed inside and slammed the doors shut. Even with the distance Janet felt the shutter of the doors travel through the ground and into her bones. The woman was very, very angry at something. “Is this a bad time?”

Taranath sighed and shook his head. “Not particularly. Aeirlaya wants you to go on another Goblin raid early tomorrow. If I'm being honest, I do not think that you are ready yet. Only a few of you I would consider even remotely ready. Especially that other man that you were with when you entered the main area of the fort.”

Janet remembered what she had seen in their, the bindings, and the bruises. She didn't have the strength or will or desire to ask that question is debt, to ask if they were slaves or captives being used to breed Green Goblins for them to fight.

“Actually, we wanted to know if there was a chance that we could get some extra training. This, and I don't know if you know this, is the first time that we have fought. Well, most of us. You understand that we come from a different world where violence is normally avoided by most people. We barely even though to hold a sword and shield, I don't think any of us know how to use a bow and I don't think you have guns.”

Taranath raised a brow at her last word. It was clear that these people had no idea of firearms from their world. Perhaps that was a good thing.

“We didn't really get much training before we were sent out there. So, I was wondering, and so are quite a few of us, if we could get some extra training before nightfall. Even if it's just how to properly hold the sword and use a shield it'll help us in the battles to come.”

And maybe even helpless with an escape, if it comes to that.

Taranath let out a smile, a genuine smile. It seemed a little impressed that she was actually asking him for help. He cleared his throat, rather dramatically, and rested his hand on the pommel of the sword. That sword look nothing like the ones that Janet and the rest of the Human Elves had to use. Theirs looks quite common, if that could actually be applied to these weapons, while his looked like it was made just for him.

“Well. I do agree with that. You do need more training before you could even think of fighting a wounded Demon and not just being turned into a red paste on the ground. Very well. You and those that are willing to do extra training are to meet me outside barracks in a few moments. Gather your weapons and armour, and I will do my best to teach you some basic skills. If you are going to be an asset to His Eternal Majesty you can't just be continuously thrown into battles we have no understanding, where the chances of you dying are incredibly high. Bringing you here, whatever world you came from, took a lot more than you might think. And we shouldn't waste those resources.”

Janet presume that was why they were in Elven bodies and not human. Taranath didn't elaborate and walked towards one of the large inhabited trees on the other side of the manicured mossy stone pathway. Janet turned back to their bunk, not really knowing if she had done the right thing to talk to him. However her path had been set and there was little she could do to change it. She readied her mind to deal with the horrors that they may have to endure in order to escape, or even to survive. She wondered if, if things continue when they were, she would even see the end of the week. The thought of the missing man from the bus was just a flicker of thought before it became lost in the tumultuous sea of her wild thoughts.

Chapter 079. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Abuse of Faith

Chapter 079. Vol 3 - Abuse of Faith:

Marcus, Commander of the Blue Firestorm Chapter, had never felt so nervous in his life. Never, in all the winters he had served the king, had he called to actually meet the king. Usually this would be considered a honour, but not today, not like this. After the Qaiviel forces, mercenaries in the employ of Duchess Belinda, had successfully defeated the combined Orc and Clansmen invasion he sent a letter to the king, King Lambert Qaiviel III, telling him what happened and what he saw. Specifically the Grand Mage and the Blood Berserker. From the man's demonstration to Castor about his magical prowess Marcus was sure that the king would need to know. Even if it turned out that this, so called, Grand Mage was not a threat to the king he would need them to be watched closely. What was most surprising was the speed of the reply. It had barely been a few days since sending the message when a message returned. The messenger who gave him the letter's horse was on its last legs and died a few moments after stopping at their fort. He didn't understand why this message was so important, especially when the invasion had successfully thwarted with minimal losses on their side. Without the Grand Mage, the silver haired Blood Berserker and the cloth wrapped archer, they may not have been able to defeat the Orc and Clansmen invasion so easily.

The letter told him to ride to the capital with all haste. It also told him that failure to do so, in an acceptable time frame, would result in the dissolution of his entire Knight Order Chapter. That too was something that he had never heard of before, to destroy an entire order, that protected the border from constant Clansmen attack, for simply turning up late. Something was happening in the king's court. Marcus had the distinct impression that it had something to do with the Church of the Holy Father. They had been sinking their fangs into his neck for some time now. As the winter's passed their influence over him became greater and the Knight Orders were constantly annoyed and harassed by a growing number religious fanatics at every turn.

Now Marcus, and his immediate subordinate, Castor, stood outside the main door to the throne room of King Lambert Qaiviel III. Their was no one else with them, so they had to wait in silence. It would be grossly appropriate for either of them to enter the King's throne room without an official invitation. That that could very well get Marcus, and his entire Knight order, destroyed from a single action. He pushed down his discomfort and waited for someone to arrive. There was little to see other than the giant door the lead to the King's throne room. This door was deliberately designed to equally intimidate and impress those that were to meet the king. Made from a giant oak tree, a size that Marcus didn't even know existed, the doors were adorned with meticulous engravings and golden markings. Every inch showed some heroic battle with the forces of Qaiviel emerging triumphant over some unspeakable horror. A dragon, a chimera, an unending swarm of goblins emerging from the depths and a hoard of Centaur rampaging through the countryside. Marcus had fought the last two and hoped he would never have to fight the first two. They were only myths and legends now, and for that Marcus was grateful. He had no idea how Knight Orders of today would deal with such terrible threats. Perhaps that was why he had been brought here today, but the threat was from three individuals from the east. A land that was supposed to be dead and overrun by beasts and monsters the likes and numbers of which he had no comprehension.

Castor stood beside him, his armour polished to the finest degree. The blue emblem of their order, the blue fire, had been meticulously polished for nearly the whole time they had been in the capital. They were not allowed to carry weapons but Castor had sneaked in a small blade hidden underneath the chest plate of his armour. Marcus too had concealed weapons, two small blades hidden in his armoured boots and another along the back of his chest armour, and another two hidden up is shoulder armour plates. Marcus felt that he may be a little paranoid but with the state of the King and of that church's involvement and the strange letter he wanted to be ready for anything.

“My Lord.” Castor turned towards him. “Why are you carrying so many weapons?”

Marcus shrugged. “I don't want to be unprepared. Worst that happens is that I have carried around some extra steel for no good reason.”

Castor nodded but he still didn't look entirely convinced. While this was the first time Marcus had been to the King's throne room this was the first time Castor had been to the capital. In the past few days he had quite a reality check. First, some of his attitudes had started to change. His close brush with death, at the hands of the Grand Mage Anton, had tempered his aggression somewhat. There were times when he would have lashed out at someone of lower birth and status for approaching a member of the Knight Orders without the correct attitude. Now that was…Diminished. Slightly. There were often times when Marcus could see Castor straining to maintain himself in a calm state when the men handling the horses, men of lower birth than he, handled them a bit roughly. Not enough to cause them any actual pain but enough for them to be clearly a little distressed. Marcus himself had expected them, as part of the Royal stables, to handle them a little better.

“Where are these people?” Castor asked, clearly on the verge of knocking on the door to see what was happening. “Are they normally like this?”

Marcus nodded. "This is your first time meeting the king, and all those that feed off of him. They need to prepare him for the words that are about to come. So we don't...scare him.”

Castor nodded but Marcus was sure that he didn't quite understand the implication. Finally the door opened a fraction, and a young man exited. Judging by the colour, and the quality, of his clothes he was someone very, very close to the King. They didn't allow anyone to wear drab and tattered clothing in their presence, even if they were a peasant receiving an honour. Hopefully this was the person they were waiting for.

“My Lords Marcus and Castor.” The young man spoke without a hint of an accent or dialect of any kind, it'd probably been beaten out of him. “King Lambert Qaiviel III awaits your presence.”

Without waiting for a reply he turned and signalled behind the door. Both doors opened with a tremendous groan, four heavily armed and armoured Qaiviel soldiers pulled the door open. Marcus tilted his head slightly towards the young man as he guested for Castor to follow him as well. He moved closely to his subordinate. “Whatever you do, don't speak unless you are spoken to. These are people that are highly stuck in their ways and they won't hesitate to punish you for the tiniest perceived slight. And they're always looking to take down the Knight Orders for any perceived slight.”

Castor nodded slowly and did his utmost to keep his hands as his side. “Dealing with that Grand Mage was easier. Even If I had to give up that bow because of what I said....Still, I didn't realised how much gold Governor Eilis had managed to acquire.”

“That was nothing compared to some of the fortunes that these people have acquired.” Marcus whispered back. “So do your best not to upset them.”

Castor nodded and didn't speak again. They walked into the throne room now open to them, moving very slowly along a very soft carpet, easily dented by their heavy weight pressing down upon it. Judging by the marks left on the carpet it was brand new. Was one of these brought out every time someone important came to see the King? It was a possibility.

After Marcus took a few steps on the carpet he looked up and observed the room, immediately regretting and wishing he hadn't. He had expected this to be a private meeting with the King, and some of his advisers at most. That was the implication of the letter he had received. However the throne room was almost completely filled with people. Full of Nobles of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Marcus had always been on the fringes of the kingdom, and did not have the time or energy to keep up with the latest trends and fashion of the capital and nearby major cities. He found some of their fashion choices to be quite repugnant, especially for someone usually stuck out in the relative wilderness where flamboyance and bright colours was a detriment and a great way to make yourself a giant target. Why the Bebbezzarians wore bright colours he didn't understand.

The nobles of Qaiviel wore bright and brilliantly extravagant clothes, like they were straight out of a children's tale, where fanciful balls and dances were commonplace. None of it looked even remotely practical. The women wore near completely encompassing dresses the reached the ground and appeared to grow outwards like their top half rested on a gigantic pumpkin. The men wore ridiculous layers of bright clothing, their hair dyed white and styled in such strange and exaggerated ways that only the women were able to match. Many wore a white powder on their faces, a powder that Marcus had heard was known to induce madness, not that he had seen this for himself. At least the men and women looked equally stupid in Marcus's eyes. He didn't know what Castor thought of them, he was glad that if he did have any thoughts he was keeping them to himself.

The nobles were not what concerned Marcus the most. Near the end of the long sweeping carpet, and near the King's throne, were dozens upon dozens of nights just like himself. These did not wear same armour as Marcus and Castor, or even each other. These were Knight Order representatives, each man present had nearly the same powers and responsibilities as someone in Marcus's position. Why there were almost thirty of them assembled, nearly all of the Knight orders, here he did not know. He didn't like the implication.

Two Knights caught his attention, one in a near all-encompassing black and another in a bright gold and amber coloured armour. Representatives from the Black Riders and the Golden Roar. Why people from those two near completely disgraced orders were present was what concerned Marcus deeply.

Behind them, and to side of the King, were old men, dressed in brightly coloured robes. These were the representatives from Church of the Holy Father. Their actions made Marcus's skin crawl. There were always rumours about these people, even as far out as the Border Forts, and none of them good. What disturbed Marcus the most was that it usually involved money, corruption, and most disturbingly, young children. To what end the latter were brought to the priests he did not know, but he had his suspicions.

The King himself, King Lambert Qaiviel III, sat in the ornate throne at the end of the room. It was far larger than the man sitting in it but it clearly demonstrated the man's near limitless power and authority. Even if that authority was being eroded by the ancient men in robes beside him. The King himself was relatively old, well into his seventieth winter. However that had not taken away the strength that Marcus could see in his eyes, even if his body was beginning to fail. He wore the ceremonial bright purple clothes of the King, the ornate golden crown lay slightly askew on his head. Did no one notice? Or did no one have the courage to tell him?

As Marcus and Castor approached he heard the nobles snigger as they passed. He couldn't make out the words but he knew that they were laughing and besmirching them the moment they had their backs to them, what little he could make out all involved their appearance and their Knight Orders lack of relative prestige in the capital. He was sure that they knew that without the Blue Fire Storm Order, and another two Orders, protecting their borders against the constant threat of Clansmen invasion their entire kingdom and their way of life would be not be possible in its current form. Sometimes these people needed reminding, though Marcus knew it wasn't the time.

The representatives of the Knight Orders, for the most part, didn't join in on the nobles chattering and laughing. Those of the Golden Roar, Marcus quickly realised there were three of them present, did appear to join in. A lone man from the Black Riders said nothing and watched them approach with a strange cold indifference.

When they reached about twenty feet away from throne itself, Marcus stopped and dropped to one knee. He quickly glanced at Castor and the man followed his lead. The young man who had opened the door raced past them and stood to the side of the King.

“Your Majesty.” he began in a voice that echoed throughout the room. “I present to you Marcus of the Blue Firestorm Knight Order, and his second-in-command, Castor.”

The King looked from the young man and at Marcus, his eyes somewhat distant and cold when he looked at the boy, not in keeping with the brilliant green that looked down towards Marcus. He shuffled his throne, a light groan emitting as he twisted his hip and pushed himself hard against back the throne.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” he began, his voice clear and authoritative, though sounding a little old and worn. “I know that it is a long way form the Border Forts to the capital. I trust the trip wasn’t too arduous for men of your calibre?”

Is this some sort of game? A test from the King? And with so many people present too.

Marcus dared a quick peek towards Castor. Thankfully the man was keeping his head down and waiting for Marcus to say something.

Can't wait too much longer. Just stick to something simple.

“The trip was long, my King, but your message gave the clear implication that we were to arrive here at all speed, no matter what our discomfort.”

Lambert nodded once and looked to one of the old men from the Church of the Holy Father. This one wore a particularly resplendent red robe, the intense colour tried its best to cover for the man's obvious age but may have exhausted it instead. Hundreds of wrinkles and deep grooves covered his face, though it appeared he to had not lost his intelligence from age. Marcus received a decidedly bad vibe from the man, especially as the King looked to him to speak next even though he seemed perfectly capable of speech.

“Lord Marcus, of the Blue Fire Storm chapter, I am Inquisitor Tirell.” He pulled out a letter from the inside of his robes, the one that Marcus had sent the King only a few days prior. “Your letter contains some…Interesting, words.”

A few of the nobles behind them began to snigger even louder, though they were silenced by the quick glare from the majority of their Knight Order representatives. At least they had their side, for now.

“Everyone present has been made aware of the claims and contents of this letter, Lord Marcus. We understand that the annual Clansmen invasion was considerably different this time. This time is involved nearly thirty thousand Orcs as well as the same again of Clansmen. What concerns us is not that in itself, but these other people that are referenced in this letter.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Specifically the Grand Mage and the Blood Berserker that fought alongside the Qaiviel forces.”

“I will answer as I am capable.” Marcus replied.

“As you are able, or as you are willing?” came another voice. Marcus turned and saw one of the Golden Roar's representatives smiling down towards him. He, and his fellows, had a tremendous amount of gold jewellery on their fingers. Marcus soon realised that most of their armour was adorned with gold as well. They were not fighting men, no one would would wear that much of the soft metal and expect to survive an actual battle. But where did they get that much wealth from?

King Lambert shot the man a glare, he instantly shrunk down to the size of a mouse under the King stare. He knew that he had broken a cardinal sin. To speak in the King's presence without permission, or to address the King himself outside of exceptional circumstances. He mumbled an apology, the King side lightly and shook his head, and nodded for Tirell to continue.

He coughed lightly and held up the letter again. “Could you explain to us, as the letter is a little bereft of details on the subject, of what these two individuals were doing in Qaiviel lands and how they actually helped.”

Marcus nodded. “Of course. May I please stand as I speak? My legs are rather tired and stiff after our journey, and I do not want to have to be dragged from the throne room when they fail.”

Tirell received a nod from the King, who then nodded at Marcus. He sighed as he stood up and motioned for Castor to do the same. He appeared quite relieved to be standing tall though he wisely kept his head down slightly.

Marcus knew he had to be very careful of what he said. While the concept of a Grand Mage was not uncommon or alien, there were at six mages within Qaiviel that could be called that, it didn't directly go against the teachings of the Holy Father. The fact that he didn't appear to use a charm was an issue. That meant he used the powers of the Old Gods, and was extremely powerful, far more so than what an actual Grand Mage. Another issue was the silver haired Blood Berserker, that he only heard the name of once, Verona. Their kind were considered heretical by the Church of the Holy Father. However none of the Qaiviel forces involved with countering the invasion had done nothing to remove such a stain upon the kingdom. They all knew that she was a tremendously powerful mage, even if the people currently present wouldn't recognise it, and appeared to be in a relationship with the Grand Mage. There was no way that Marcus was going to commit suicide by attacking them. Especially after they had helped to save the Kingdom. The cloth covered archer, that Anton gave the gifted bow to, was a mystery to Marcus but not an issue right now.

“Thank you.” Marcus said. “From what I understand, I only met them twice, they were mercenaries hired to defend our lands from the Orc and Clansmen invaders. By all accounts they did just that.”

“You met a Blood Berserker?” Tirell asked, a deep and angry frown forming on his ancient face. “A walking bastion of heresy and heretical magic and you did nothing?”

This is starting to feel a bit like a trail, where I've already been convicted of a crime. Still, there's no easy way out of this one.

Marcus nodded. “Yes.”

Gasps and murmurs filled the air, the assembled nobles doing their best dramatic acting to convey their shock and horror. Marcus was sure that none of them even knew what a Blood Berserker was or why they were so dangerous. It wasn't just their power at using spilled blood against their enemies but it was the rage. The uncontrollable rage that tore through their bodies and minds. He had only met one in battle and it was something he never wanted to do again. The screams and howls of the deranged man as he cut apart friend and foe was something that he never wanted to experience again.

The priests looked horrified, but didn't play it up as much. His fellow Knights either stared blankly or had a light frown on their faces. As military men he hoped that they understood that there were times where one couldn't just kill everything in sight in the name of their god.

King Lambert raised his hand and the noise stopped. It was funny to see how quickly the nobles were brought to heel with a single motion.

“Why?” Tirell asked flatly and devoid of emotion.

Marcus coughed again, giving him precious moments to think. “Have any of you fought a Blood Berserker before?”

Tirell and the other priests shook their heads. At least they were being honest.

“The only one that I have ever seen and fought was when I was very young. I wasn't even allowed to wear full armour then.” Marcus unclipped his left shoulder armour piece and rolled down the cloth underneath to show his collar. The bone was deformed and the skin deeply scarred. The King and the priests frowned at the sight. “The Blood Berserker I fought did that. Nearly killed me.”

“But you could have done it when you met this other Blood Berserker.” a different priest said dryly.

Marcus shook his head. “This one was already dying, and an archer brought him down. With his last ounce of strength he threw a blood crystal shard and pierced the arhcers heart. The shard travelled through and struck me. He had already killed over a hundred armoured knights and hundreds more soldiers and I don't think he was going to stop any time soon.”

“Again, you could have-”

“This girl was far more powerful. Far stronger than the one that I fought.” Marcus cut the priest off, much to his annoyance. Upon hearing the Blood Berserker was a woman, and not a man, many of the nobles began to laugh. It seemed they didn't think a woman could be a soldier, though Marcus had seen many examples to the contrary. “The red tattoos covered most of her body, from her hands right to her neck. The one that caused this only had a small mark on their chest.”

“You allowed a walking bastion of heresy move freely through the Kingdom?” Tirell asked again. He appeared to be following the usual line of repeating his accusations enough times until it became the truth and Marcus buckled under the weight of his questions. Marcus wasn't going to do that.

“I could not attack her and live, and I'm sure that she and the Grand Mage could have done far more damage to us if we dared point our swords at them.”

Castor made an involuntary flinch of his hands.

“Ridiculous. You're also saying that a Blood Berserker and a Grand Mage were working together?”

“Yes. If anything I believe that they were in some sort of relationship.”

Tirell appeared genuinely stunned. “Blood Berserkers are wild beasts that only seek to kill and maim. Their heretical god's power drives them made. They could never love or care for anything save death and destruction.”

“Because you've never seen it with your own eyes, you dismiss it instantly?”

I feel a little bit like I'm talking to Castor again.

Tirell frowned and contemplated his words for a moment.

“Not only that but the Grand Mage had killed many thousands of the enemy by himself.” Marcus continued, King Lambert and many of the Knight Order Representatives frowned at his words. A single mage, even their most powerful, couldn't do that on his own. “And I did not want to have everything we have worked for go up in flames because we tried to kill him on sight, because of what he was.” Marcus glanced at Castor. “A near incident occurred, and the Grand Mage threatened to kill everyone present.”

“You see?” the priest said, his voice almost shrill. “These people threatened the kingdom and our people!”

“Only because he was slighted.” Marcus cut him off before the King could speak. “And the issue was cleared up very easily and without further incident.”

“I read this part.” King Lambert spoke softly. “A battle at a place known as the Gravestone, where he summoned huge pillars of fire to kill ten thousand Orcs and Clansmen by himself.” he looked over the letter and straight into Marus's eyes. “Can you confirm this?”

“I cannot.” a few sniggers and suppressed chuckles filled the air. “But I trust the thousands of soldiers that said that was what happened.”

“Interesting.” King Lambert trailed off. “It also says he could use lightning?”

“Yes.”

“This is just becoming ridiculous.” the priest said. He looked to Tirell for support but none came. Tirell was content to let this play out.

“I'm sure the enemy commanders thought the same thing.” Marcus replied. He didn't want to say that he could heal people from the brink of death without using the Church's healing methods. If he told them that they would scream for everyone that had been healed by the Grand Mage to be killed. “But that's what happened.”

“A mage could easily be killed.” Tirell said. “Every mage, no matter how powerful, is just a man underneath. I expect you of all people to know that.”

Marcus knew clearly what he was implying. That even if a mage and a Blood Berserker had helped them they should have been killed the moment they had a chance, even if they were allies just a few moments before. That way of thinking made his skin crawl, the way they could treat life so callously and like it was nothing. No sense of honour or respect for their allies.

“That would have impossible for me.” Marcus replied. “He appeared to have great control of his powers and so too did the Blood Berserker. If everyone in this room tried to attack they wouldn't have a chance. You might be able to draw your sword before everyone was ash.”

Tirell smiled. “It just sounds like you aren't being very...creative.”

Marcus ground his teeth. “I don't feel like killing allies. Especially after they saved tens of thousands.” Tirell held back a look of scorn that drove Marcus mad. He felt his nerves reaching their end. “When was the last time that you left the capital to fight? When was the last time that you even fought a single Green Goblin?”

With all the attention now placed on Tirell he appeared a little nervous. “I...I have never. The Holy Father provides me with all the safety we need.”

“And that safety comes from those soldiers that you aren't listening to now.” Marcus replied. “If you can find the Blood Berserker, and the Grand Mage, and the clothed woman, then you can fight them.”

“How do you know it was a woman?” a priest asked.

Marcus couldn't help the smile that formed on his mouth. “I understand women just as well as you understand young boys.”

The priest's face instantly dyed red, the fury on his face matching his new found colour. “How dare you! I am-”

“Be quiet.” King Lambert cut him off, the priest remembering his place. “If the accusations were untrue you would have been dismissive or failed to understand. Your anger...belies your...intentions.”

The priest hung his head in shame, so too did quite a few more. Marcus saw Castor looking quite concerned at him. Usually it would be Castor to say such things, but Marcus couldn't help himself. He hated those that preyed on children like that the most.

“I think we can understand roughly what has happened.” King Lambert continued. “I will not admonish you for your decisions in battle, it has been some time since I took up a sword myself, but what we want to know is where these people came from and if they're a threat to the kingdom.”

“I'm sure that I said they weren't in the letter I sent.” Marcus said softly.

King Lambert nodded once. “You did. But I want to see the man who says they are not a threat to us. From your words they appeared to have come with the Qaiviel forces pursing the Orc and Clansmen invasion. That still begs the question, where-”

“Father!” a voice boomed from behind. “You started this without us?”

Marcus turned around. Entering the room through the giant oak door were three men and one woman. Judging by their clothes, ornate and brilliantly coloured with the majority of it coloured purple, but not to the excessive level of the nobles, they appeared to be royalty. They looked like his adult children.

The nobles let out feigned gasps as they passed, Marcus fighting the desire to roll his eyes at the sight of them fawning over the royals. The men looked like younger versions of King Lambert while the woman looked nothing like her father. Long golden locks cascaded down back and shoulders, immaculate manicured and maintained. King Lambert let out a rare smile as he watched them approach. They both moved to the side of their father, King Lambert, and looked at Marcus. For a moment he thought that something good might come of this, but upon seeing two of the princes faces he knew that this is not likely. Two of the Princes were smiling like maniacs, like soldiers lost in a frenzied battle, while the other Prince and Princess looked on with a blank and empty expression.

King Lambert frowned for a moment before looking towards his children. "Lord Marcus and Castor, I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my children, especially being so far away from the capital. May I introduce my first son, Leo, my second son, Giles, my third son Harold and my first daughter, Lila.”

The moment he finished all four bowed their heads, not to the extent of the nobles or peasants, but enough to acknowledge that the names had been spoken. Marcus, unfortunately, couldn't tell the difference between the three young men. They looked almost identical, except perhaps Harold, the third son, he looked slightly more tired and withdrawn that his two brothers. How King Lambert knew the difference between his children he did not know.

“I thought that you were going to have us be a part of this?” Leo said, a hint of anger underneath his voice.

King Lambert shook his head lightly. “Normally I would, but this has little to do with teaching you how to run a kingdom properly. I have actually gone above what I would normally do in order to satisfy my own curiosity… And the curiosity of the Church of the Holy Father.”

Tirell, and the priests, look towards the King for a moment but said nothing.

“I'm sure that it'll be interesting nonetheless." Giles replied to his father. He appeared to have more of a grin, and almost manic energy in his face and voice.

The remaining two children said nothing instead on blankly at Marcus and Castor.

“Actually, father.” Leo looked at the nobles in front of them. “Why are they here? Why are these people gathered here today? If this is so important why are there so many of these fake, stupidly dressed sycophants?”

Marcus couldn't help a wry smile on his face. Even though he knew nothing of the children, he was already starting to like this Leo. If he could at least brush away the obvious attempts at flattery from the nobles that would already make him well on the way to being a good king.

“Yes?” King Lambert look to the priests at his side. "Why are they here?”

Marcus guessed that he actually knew who the real reason but just wanted Tirell to say it aloud. Was it an attempt by the church to gain even more power and control? And how much control do they actually have over this King? By the looks of things it seemed to be tentative at best. Perhaps they had recently gone too far and now they're experiencing a backlash, to which they brought in all these nobles to try to shore up their position.

Tirell said nothing, neither did any of the priests. King Lambert waved his hand dismissively towards them. "I understand completely why they're here. This is also not the only thing we have to discuss today, although it is by far the most interesting. Life in the capital has been rather dull recently, I'm sure that any news from the far north would gather their attention. As something to do."

King Lambert sighed heavily, glancing over their shoulder at the assembled nobles. Marcus gave a quick glance. Now they appeared much more subdued, even a few avoiding their gaze. Very few actually had the spine to meet the king's gaze.

“As I was saying before my children interrupted me. Where did these mercenaries come from?” King Lambert asked. “It doesn't sound like they appeared out of nowhere.”

Marcus took a deep breath and readied himself for what he was about to say. While knew Alfred quite well, and woman that he served, there was little that he could do to protect them. The king would eventually find out, due to spies or simply by asking the right people in places like Nonbu'rn. It wouldn't take too long to find out, and if Marcus tried to deflect the question or lied it would only serve to make things more difficult for him and everyone else in the future.

“I believe that these people were hired by Duchess Belinda.” Marcus replied.

“Duchess Belinda?” Leo asked, much to the surprise and feigned the grasps of the assembled nobles. “One of the nobles stuck on the eastern edge of the kingdom? How did she manage to get them?”

King Lambert frowned. “Where you listening in? I know there are meant to be bolthole's hidden throughout this room but I didn't think that you lot would actually go to the bother of using them.”

Leo and Giles smiled while the other two still looked on blankly. Marcus got the distinct impression that both of them didn't want to be here. There was something going on with the royal families that he wanted to have nothing to do with.

“Well, since you know already, it is surprising that someone so far away could gather these people.” King Lambert said.

“It sounds like Duchess Belinda is consulting with heretics.” Marcus expected it to be Tirell that spoke, or one of the priests, but it wasn't. It was the man from the Golden Roar, a wicked smile on his face. “I have heard that she has recently acquired a vast amount of territory and wealth. Perhaps she got this through heretical means as well?”

A few of the priests appeared to agree, not Tirell though. He kept his face steady and looking at Marcus for any sign that he knew more than he was leading on.

“My King.” the Golden Roar representatives smiled even more wildly. “I ask that you let our order investigate these matters ourselves. We will find the answers, and bring this heretics head to your feet.”

That was quick. I think I know how they really get their wealth. They're the dogs of the Church. That doesn't explain why the Black Riders are here though...

Marcus opened his mouth to speak as King Lambert turned towards them, but was interrupted by Castor.

“What?” Castor asked, for the first time he said something. “Duchess Belinda has only been accused of a crime and yet you're already clamouring for her death? If it is true that she conspired with heretical forces she should at least be able to explain her actions. You cannot just believe what you are told, especially when those people stand to gain an immense amount of wealth from their actions.”

Marcus was silent. He hadn't expected Castor to have a small outburst like that, something reflected on the man's quickly retreating form, but it had the desired effect on the King.

King Lambert nodded. “Duchess Belinda has been accused of dealing with potential heretics and nothing more. Accused, that is all.” He turned to the young man, still standing between himself and Marcus. “Send her a letter telling her to come to the capital with all speed to explain her actions regarding the defence of the Clansmen and Orc invasion.”

“Yes, my King.” the young man nodded and quickly left the throne room.

“You two will remain in the capital for the time being.” King Lambert continued. “Everything that you need will be provided for you. I'm sure that the Border Forts will be strong enough to hold without you present.”

Marcus nodded. “They will. Especially with all the expected gold going to the forts now.”

King Lambert nodded as he looked back at the note. “Yes...Eilis, his name was. Shame that he stole gold from me that was meant for the defence of the kingdom.” His mouth opened as he read the next line, where the city of Nonbu'rn, and its surrounds, had been given to Duchess Belinda to manage in his name. He hummed but said nothing of it.

“The wealth has been distributed amongst the people, who are recovering quite well.”

“The people...” Tirell mumbled under his breath. It seemed the Church didn't care too much for the common people. It was sad to say but the Duchess Belinda of old might have cared more than they do now.

“I'm sure that you don't want to have to listen to the other boring nonsense that we have to do deal with today.” King Lambert waved some Qaiviel guards forward. Marcus understood the implication of his words. They were done for the day. “These men will escort you to your lodgings. Everything should be taken care of. While we wait for Duchess Belinda to arrive I implore you to enjoy the city as best you can.”

'Because it may be your last time.' Either that or he's giving us an opportunity to run if we are guilty of conspiring with heretics. That's not something I'll do.

“Thank you, your Grace.” Marcus bowed, so too did Castor. As they left he caught the eyes of the Golden Roar representatives looking absolutely furious. It seemed that the rumours were true and they wouldn't loose any opportunity to enrich themselves. He caught the eye of the Black Rider, his body turning very cold. It was the lack of emotion in his eyes that made him feel cold. They were rumoured to be vicious compared to the Golden Roar's avarice and greed. The soulless look, that only reacted with combat and flowing blood, glanced towards him for a moment, a hint of a bubbling emotion behind them. What was going on behind those eyes?

Marcus peeled his eyes away and followed the guards out, thankful that he had survived this ordeal. His hands brushed up against the hidden blades. He wasn't about to let them go, not when he was stuck in a city where everyone had a motive to do them harm.

Announcment (Not a cancellation)

Hello Everyone.

It's been a little while since the last chapter, it doesn't feel that way for me, so I'm just putting this out there to let you know I haven't disappeared.

So, yes, I am continuing to write and I've got the next two somewhat written. Things have become a little tiring, RL stuff. When I get back I don't have much energy to write and type so it's slowed down to a crawl. I haven't given up and I'm still continuing.

On other news, that other story that I've got here, I've been working on that as well. I've finished the first arc, about 200,000 words or so. I'm using the lessons I've learned from this story *cough* to do that one and make sure it doesn't go stupid. I've shown a few people and they seem to like it so I'm very glad about that. I was incredibly nervous the first time actually showing it to people I know. That story has gone through one go of heavy editing, there was quite a bit to pick up, and it's about to go through the second edit. When that's done I'll see where to go from there.

Anyway, that's that. I don't know when the next chapter will be ready but I hope it won't be a month.

Thanks for your time.

Chapter 080. Vol 3 - Entry

Chapter 080. Vol 3 - Entry:

Anton was glad to hear they were nearing the city of Porswea. At least according to Virgil they were. Nothing in the scenery had changed for some time. For the past few days they had been travelling through a seemingly endless and uniform forest. They had passed a few small hamlets and villages scattered throughout the forest pathway that kept to themselves, at least they weren't part of those crazy cultists to the South East. Virgil said they were largely self sufficient so there was very little need for them to trade. There were no other caravans along the route. It made the journey a little lonesome. No further attacks had come from the Ghlotsm or other monsters during those nights. For that he was thankful, though it was not like the days weren't without unique problems.

Many of the nights had been rather awkward. Not between them and the other Bandit Hunters, but rather the arguments they were overhearing between the Bebbezarians that carried long into the night. It seemed that Eluria and Sancha didn't appreciate what they had done to interfere with their lives. Or, more accurately, what Verona had done to stir the pot. Duran, perhaps broken out of his stupor, had been speaking quite a lot to Cetina. Whatever had been said Cetina it resulted in her receiving her own horse and no longer having to do all the cooking and setting up the camp by herself. It was a lot better for Anton to not have to try and ignore the blatant issue.

While Anton was glad that Kal had acquired a power of her own, one that he wished she hadn't needed to go through such extreme pain, they didn't have an opportunity to test it out yet. Practising with magic from the Old Gods would attract a lot of attention. Attention they couldn't afford to have, especially when quite a few of the Bebbezarians didn't seem to like them. Kal had been rather dejected, but understanding, that they had to wait before they could practice her magic. Knowing that she would soon be fighting alongside them made her extremely happy. She was content to wait a few days.

Anton directed his attention back to the present and those around them. Cetina, still trying to get a wrangle on her unruly horse, rode up to them as they trotted alongside the caravan. “Darn thing.” she pulled hard on the reins in an attempt to make the horse travel alongside them. “This is...This is much harder than I thought it would be. Everyone else makes it look so easy.”

Verona smiled at her. “It's a little difficult the first few times. You just need to not be rough with it. Nobody likes being roughed about.”

Cetina chuckled. “I don't doubt that.” With a final tug the horse settled down and fell into line next to them, the other side of Verona. “There we go.”

Anton looked at the horse beneath Cetina's legs. It was much larger and stronger than theirs. It lacked the studded leather armour that the Bandit Hunters used but it was still an impressive beast. It was the same breed used by of the other Bebbezar guards, so one must have been kicked off his mount. Anton spied a very unhappy guard on the one of the carts.

“I'm glad that you're no longer stuck in one of those bouncing carts.” Anton said. “Can't imagine that was comfortable. For days on end.”

Cetina shrugged. “It wasn't that bad. You get used to it after a while.” she smiled at Anton. “Though I've only been on this girl for a few days and my legs and butt are killing me. How can anyone stand this? How can you three do this?”

“You get used to it.” Verona said. She patted the saddle underneath her. “I've also put a bit of padding under here. That takes the worse of it out.”

“So that's why you haven't been complaining.” Anton mumbled. He looked towards Kal. “What about you?”

Kal nodded, her face obscured by the white and green mask. No one had said anything about her. Cetina had kept her word to keep her mouth shut. “Haven't you?” Kal seemed rather concerned.

“No.” Anton admitted. “I've been trying to make sense of the things we saw at the border and that's been enough to distract me. And I've been using the prayer power once we stop to take the edge off.”

“Those people were pretty strange.” Verona said in agreement. “Goblins and the way they all walked and looked...Though I'm sure that we'll be meeting them again. Damn crazy cults.”

A horse rode up behind them. Anton turned and saw Virgil approaching.

“We're almost at Porswea.” he said, looking either side to the thinning forests around them. More light was coming through and a few freshly cut stumps started to appear. Fresh logging, a sign of habitation. “Shouldn't be too much longer now.”

“Good.” Verona replied, stretching out her back and rubbing her arms. “It's been a while since I've felt clean. A good chance for some private time too.” she smiled and glanced back at Virgil. “You been having an more luck in that regard?”

Virgil smiled. “After all that you'd be surprised.”

“So she came back?” Anton asked. “After what happened?”

Virgil didn't answer and only smiled. Anton took that as a yes.

“That's incredible.” Anton shook his head as he looked back, catching Eluria and Sancha's eye. They were in the middle of the caravan, chatting with a number of the Bebbezarians. Every so often they glanced towards them. This time they locked their gaze with him, like it would undo what had happened. Anton smiled and waved at them. They scowled and returned to their huddle.

Anton leaned down to Verona. “I don't think they like us.” Verona threw up a silver brow, a fake disbelieving look on her face. “Less everyday.”

She chuckled. “They'll keep doing that so long as we keep looking at them and smiling and waving.” Verona looked back but they weren't looking. “Why is there always someone with something wrong in their head?”

“I wish I had an answer.” Anton ruffled Verona's head, to which she laughed again. “That seems to be the same, where ever you go.”

Verona was about to say something when she stopped. Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she looked forward. Out of the abrupt ending to the fores lay the largest city Anton had ever seen. A giant light brown stone wall travelled from one side of his vision to the other, at least thirty meters tall and very thick. Many thin trails of smoke rose from the interior of the enormous city, from forges and from homes. The number of people that lived in the city must be immense, even compared to the massive cities of Earth. Stretching before the wall, for dozens of kilometres, lay hundreds of plots of crops and plantations. Even from this distance he could see some varieties of plants that he recognised and many more that he couldn't. Throughout the plots were hundreds of moving little specks, people. Hundreds upon thousands of workers were tending to the plants, plants necessary to feed the swarms of people within. It appeared, even without knowing how many there were inside, there were too many. Outside the city wall, and almost blending into the stone, stood a sprawling shanty town. These looked very ramshackle and thrown together, no order or reason. Anton guessed those were part of the places that Alfred told them to stay away from. They would have to cross the shanty town before reaching a large wooden gate into the city.

“Bloody hell.” Anton said first. “How big is this place?”

Virgil smiled. “Huge. Many miles across and well over a hundred thousand people living inside. Probably a lot more. I don't know how many there actually are, it's a little hard to keep a count on everyone.”

“I bet.” Anton said quietly. “So how do we get in?”

“You see the shanty town?” Virgil asked, to which everyone nodded. “We'll need to pass through that mess first and try and not get mugged. Then we get to the main gate, get checked over by the guards to see if we've got any sort of contraband, and then we're in.” Virgil frowned. “None of you should try to go into the shanty town on your own. You all look like easy pickings, even though I know you're not. I don't want to have to deal with a mage that's burned down half the city.”

Verona looked at Kal then at Anton. “I don't think we'll be going there. There doesn't sound like there'll be anything there for us.”

Anton nodded. He had no intention of being mugged or fighting in Porswea. Between the three of them they had more wealth than anyone had probably seen, or would ever see, in their entire lives. He ran his hand over one of the hidden pouches out of habit to make sure it was there.

Their convoy continued to roll out of the forest and along the dirt road towards the sprawling shanty town outside the main city walls. Anton noticed Kal moved closer to him as they moved from the dirt pathway to a rough stone road. Now the carts were beginning to rumble quite loudly now as the wood rattled about, the passengers were suffering the same fate. Anton turned his attention back to Porswea. If any of them found out who Kal really was they wouldn't hesitate to tear her apart or sell her back to Seocuria. A sickening image flashed past his mind, quickly suppressed. He was not going to let that happen. Ever.

"Kal." Anton began. "Do...Do you want to ride with me or Verona? Just for this next bit?"

Kal glanced towards him, he spied Verona looking equally concerned between her and Porswea, and slowly shook her head.

"I'll be fine." she said quietly, he detected the tiniest waver in her voice. "But I'm not going far from either of you. Just...Just to be safe."

Verona nodded. "If anyone asks you've suffered a horrendous burn injury and you choose not to show it. If there's enough of us they'll, hopefully, buy it." she turned to Cetina, riding in silence on the other side. "Won't we?"

Cetina nodded furiously.

"Good." Verona turned back to Anton. "Just in case I'm going to need some blood."

Anton offered up his hand and allowed Verona to take a vials worth. Cetina watched in silence with a strange mix of awe and fear. Seeing such a power, that Anton was sure was considered heretical by the Church of the Holy Father, used so liberally and with such ease of control, there was no way that she wouldn't be fascinated. Anton glanced back as he murmured a healing prayer.

"Do you know anything about this city?" Anton asked Cetina. The Bebbezar woman nearly jumped out of her saddle in surprise.

She coughed loudly to recover herself. "Not Porswea, no. We were heading here when we became lost. Though we did stop in a city near the border with...Seocuria that looked pretty much the same. A lot smaller though."

Cetina glanced at Kal, Kal seemingly remained unmoving at the mention of that place.

Again Cetina coughed. "I...If this place is the same, and it looks like it will be, they'll have a lot of things to buy, which I'm sure that you're going to need in your journey. But the gates might be a little trickier to get through."

"Do they have some sort of toll?" Anton asked.

Cetina looked at him, her grey and purple flecked eyes were searching for something. Probably how much of their story was actually true. She certainly doubted most of it, knowing Kal's real identity. However there was little she could do about it, and they were one of the few people that weren't treating her badly.

"Yes." she finally answered. "Although, if you've got a signed writ by the local Governor, or someone higher up, you can get in for free." Cetina puffed out her chest. "Dad has one from the Governor of Obulco, a city on the border with Seocuria. I don't know if that means we'll be able to get into Porswea for free. We'll just have to wait and see. And I don't know if it extends to anyone else either."

"Don't worry about that." a voice came from behind. Anton looked back, Virgil was smiling quite happily at them, though Anton saw most of his attention was diverted to the city of Porswea looming in the distance. "I have a writ from the local Governor. That'll get us through the gates."

He frowned as he looked between Porswea and Cetina." What city did you say you went through again?"

"Obulco."

Virgil pursed his lips. "That's a little different to Porswea."

"For better or worse?" Anton asked.

"Worse, for us." Virgil replied. "Let's just say you don't want to get lost. The same goes for your Bebbezarian friends. That goes for inside the walls, and especially outside.” Virgil looked at Cetina and then to the rest of the caravan. “You people stick out so much with those bright clothes. I don't know why you wear them."

Kal said that as well. Anyway, Alfred said to stay away from the back alleys, and we'll definitely be doing that. I wonder how much the city has changed since then. For better or worse?

"So." Virgil looked around. "We'll all stick together until we make it inside."

“That bad?” Anton asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Depends. With this many people there might be some blood. Desperate people are violent people.”

He moved his horse closer to the rumbling carts and so too did they. However Anton received a few looks of scorn from the Bebbezar merchants. It seemed that Eluria and Sancha had been very busy in the past few days. He simply ignored them as they continued to rumble towards Porswea.

As the minutes passed their little convoy started to gather more people. Now they were being joined by laborers and other small merchant and trading groups heading to Porswea. Virgil said that Porswea was a large city, so it only made sense that people would flock to try their luck at trading. A few of the traders began to talk to the members of their convoy, obviously intrigued by their size and composition. Most attention was placed on the Bebbezarian merchants and their bright clothes. How they kept them so bright with only water was beyond Anton. Did they have soap? It would be nice to feel truly clean, rather than what they currently looked, and smelt, like.

He peered into the traders goods as they passed. A motley selection of goods were on display. Most looked to be either simple food or bundles of wood, everything heading to the hungry city of Porswea. A few held more exotic appearing items, but they were few and far between. Their caravan, by comparison, looked quite wealthy and extravagant. Of the other traders only a few had carts. Those few were led by old and slow horses or equally tired looking Ix but the majority were pulled by hand, the effort and strain clear on their faces, while some where hauling their bundled goods on their back. To save on time and the number of trips their backs were loaded to breaking point. To distribute their overloaded cargo each person leaned forward, giving them a stooped back, like they were old peasants. Most were not that old.

"I'm glad I only have to load the carts." Cetina mumbled, loud enough for Anton to hear. "I don't want to end up like you poor people."

Anton looked back and caught Cetina's eyes. Realizing she had been heard, she flushed slightly and smiled awkwardly. Anton returned the smile and looked forward again.

They were getting close to the shanty town surrounding Porswea. The smell was the first thing to hit Anton. The smell of shit and piss. While Atros was still small enough to handle the waste of the people that lived there it was clear the sprawling shanty town outside the city wall did not. It gathered in clumps by the side of the road and puddles off the road and near the plantations, flies and other insects swarmed over the mass and stagnant pools. Most of the runoff headed towards the crop fields and plantations. While Anton was sure that foul smelling watery mixture had some useful nutrients for the plants he was certain that it was also swarming with diseases.

That's an interesting thought. I haven't been sick since I've been here, though the prayer healings have probably had something to do with that. When I arrived in Atros there were quite a few sick people, and Jonathan had gangrene on his legs, so it's not impossible to get sick. I wonder how sick the city will be if it's like that out here? Maybe the interior will have an actual sewage system?

Anton made a note to tell the council to prepare sewage and clean drinking works as soon as possible. The earlier it was done the easier it would be later on. Just what that would be Anton did not know. He didn't know anything about civil construction and no one had been involved with building a large city. Perhaps Bertram or Sybil might know something from their time in the old Kar Kingdom capital. They would just have to do their best.

"This is disgusting." Verona said as she suppressed yet another gag. "Do they just go wherever they please? Like right there? Or here?"

She pointed towards the shanty town as a middle aged woman threw out a wooden bucket filled with waste. There was no care where it landed, the water and mass splashing about. Thankfully it was near the edge of the shanty town, so there wasn't anyone nearby but, judging by the colour of the wooden buildings, others didn't worry where it went. Thinking about it made Anton a little ill.

"There's only so many places you can do your business in a city as big as Porswea." Virgil said. "Though, coming from the country side, you three should be used to the smell."

He looked back at Anton and then towards Kal. Kal was clearly struggling with the smell. Her Beast-kin senses were being overwhelmed by the strength, judging by her tiny coughs and splutters.

"We don't just take a shit wherever we feel like." Verona replied, pulling on the reins hard to avoid a particularly large deposit left in the road. However it appeared to be left by a passing horse. She frowned deeply as she looked towards the first buildings of the sprawling shanty town surrounding Porswea. "How can they handle this?"

"I suppose you get used to it." Anton replied. “Even if it is utterly horrific.”

Verona coughed and nodded. Anton looked back, Cetina apparently had no trouble with the smell. When her purple flecked grey eyes locked with his she cocked her head lightly. Anton smiled lightly and turned forward, leaving the Bebezarian woman more than a little confused.

The people that swarmed around their growing convoy now appeared to be quite comfortable with the filth surrounding them. They weren't covered in that filth but their bodies were stained with mud from working the land. The traders and labourers, that had come from afar, were not so comfortable. Anton didn't blame them.

As they passed the first building of the shanty town the stench only grew. It staggered Anton how anyone could live like this. What also surprised him was the speed in which he became used to the smell. It was still terrible but he didn't feel like throwing up with every breath.

The buildings looked as bad as the smell surrounding them. Nothing looked particularly strong or well built. To Anton it looked like the slums of Earth had been rebuilt here, instead of corrugated iron they used old and rotten pieces of wood. Every building was cramped and half rotted, patchwork after patchwork holding the buildings together.

He directed his attention to the people as they passed. Everyone was dirty and tired, no matter the age. Upon seeing their convoy they tried to swarm around them. Their arms were thrusted out towards them, all desperately shouting for any coin that could be spared. Virgil pulled out his sword and waved it menacingly at the beggars. They didn't get the message and continued to swarm around them. One got too close and received a swing to his head. He screamed as blood poured down his face and he ran back through the crowd. As Virgil held up his blooded sword the rest of the beggars began to disperse, though not without throwing out a combination of swears and insults that Anton had never heard before.

Virgil grunted as he began to wipe the blood off his blade. “This is the one thing that I hate about Porswea. These fucking beggars.” he glanced back at Anton. “You see, I have nothing against them, but when they get riled up they can attack you. Seen it myself.”

“When people are desperate they'll do crazy things.” Anton said. He chose his words carefully to not arouse any suspicion of the story he told them. “Are there just no jobs?”

“Oh, there are jobs.” Virgil sighed as a Bandit Hunter kicked away a brave beggar. “They're just going to have to work pretty hard. Whatever, not my problem.”

Anton mumbled and they continued onwards.

Their group slowed to a crawl as they neared the gate into the city. A few hundred people, and more than a dozen fully laden carts, were in their way. Judging by the bored looks on their faces this was something very routine.

Armoured soldiers moved from cart to cart, many just taking a cursory glance at the contents before waving them forward and moving to the next. As the soldiers moved closer Anton could get a better look at the Graterian soldiers.

Wow. Never thought I would see something like that.

The Graterian soldiers looked as if they had been ripped straight out of the glory days of the Roman Empire. Each soldier was heavily armoured in a mixture of chain mail and solid plates that covered most of their form, a large red rectangle metal shield in one hand a short sword in the other. Their helms didn't have the large red mohawk, as Anton half expected them to have, rather a metal helm that covered most of their face and all of their neck. There was no way for a stray sword slash to cut open their throats.

Nearly ten minutes passed until the soldiers waved them forward. One soldier, wearing more bright red colours than his compatriots, held up his hand for them to stop. He appeared to be the leader. Verona glanced at Anton while Kal moved even closer, her horse touching his leg, and held his hand. This would be the moment where she could be revealed and her life would end.

"Good morning." Virgil said to the lead soldier as he approached. "How are you this day?"

"Alright." The soldier replied. "The wind isn't blowing from the south so it's not too bad."

"I think that's the best that it's been in some time." Virgil had a strange smile on his face. "Most of the time it blows from the south, not the north."

The soldier nodded. "That it does. That it does." he rested his steel gauntlet on the pommel of his sword as he looked at all of them. "I'm taking in that you're not leading this merchant group. That would be very odd. Never thought a Bebbezarian would let someone else do that."

The soldiers eyes looked towards Anton, Verona and Kal. He frowned when he looked at Kal, even more deeply when he saw Verona's silver hair and completely ignored Anton.

"No." Virgil replied. "That's not my job. Not this time." he looked back to the caravan. "Duran! They want to talk to you."

Anton heard shuffling from the center of their convoy as Duran emerged from one of the carts. The man's flamboyance and charisma had taken a substantial hit over the past few nights, not that anyone new would realise. Anton didn't miss the way his hand twitched as he gripped hard onto the bright yellow of his pants as he hoped off, even his walk appeared more nervous than before. Once he started walking his confidence returned.

As he approached Virgil reached into a saddle bag and removed a large piece of paper. While Anton didn't get a good look he managed to see some very ornate and delicately written words. That must have been the writ that Virgil and Cetina were talking about, identifying him as in the employ of Lord Cassius. The soldier looked it over for a few seconds before handing it back with a nod. Evidently he could read. When Virgil didn't move the soldier frowned and raised a brow.

"I'll wait for them." Virgil said. "We've been through some interesting times and I would like to see that they make it inside."

The soldier nodded. When he looked to Duran his demeanour relaxed.

"Anything to declare now?" the soldier asked. "If you surrender contraband now you won't be punished for it."

"Nothing my good man." Duran said in his normal bombastic tone, though Anton noticed that it was slightly forced. "Everything that we have with us is perfectly legal with all the Kingdoms and Empires."

"We'll see about that." the soldier said quietly. "We just need to have a quick check over your goods and then you can be on your way. After you pay the toll."

Duran snapped his finger, the Graterious soldiers hands twitched towards their swords. "Please wait but a moment."

Before the soldier could reply Duran ran back to the cart, returning a few moments later with a large piece of paper nearly identical to the one Virgil had presented. The soldier took the paper and read it slowly and carefully.

"Unfortunately." the soldier began as he delicately handed back the paper. "We still need to do a search of your carts. Lord Cassius has decreed it necessary in all circumstances. Especially with the increasing bandit activity. They've been trying to smuggle themselves inside carts."

"They still aren't getting the message." Virgil grumbled as he looked to the far right along with the lead soldier. Anton was shocked to see hundreds of people hanging from the top of the wall, ropes strangling their necks as their still bodies rolled about in the wind. The bodies covered the entire range of decomposition. Some seemed like they had only gone up that morning. From the top of the wall a group of Graterious soldiers were lowering down another body.

"That they aren't." The soldier waved the other Graterious soldiers forward. "If we met those little rats in the field..."

The soldier shook his head and turned his attention to Anton. "And what about you three?" his eyes scanned them all, lingering for a few moments on Verona and Kal's chests. "You don't look like you are part of either group."

"We are travellers looking to buy goods in your city." Anton said. He wanted to keep it simple and believable. The soldier didn't seem convinced. Once again his eyes lingered on Verona's hair. It seemed that it was going to be a problem everywhere in Graterious. What about Seocuria?

His eyes looked them over again. "Do you have money on you? We don't let in vagrants. Got enough of them out here."

"They can't go inside?" Verona asked, looking to the shanty town behind them. None of the inhabitants seemed willing to get too close to the soldiers guarding the gate.

The soldier nodded. "Yes. Do you have any money?"

"Yes we do." Anton replied.

The soldier regarded them with a little bit of disbelief before he nodded. He looked at Virgil. "Since he's travelling with you I'll believe that. These other two...I haven't got anything against a Clansmen that looks more at home in a brothel than travelling with a bunch of Bebbezarian merchants." Anton heard Verona grind her teeth at his words, but she held her composure. Just. Her hands were scrunching hard on the reins. Anton knew that she wanted to lunge at the pig of a soldier and rip out his throat. "At least she's not a slathering murder. You should keep that spear somewhere safe and not try to hurt anyone...Or you'll end up there. What about the one with the mask?"

Their attention turned to Kal. This was probably the closest she had been to a large city in over a decade. She was holding herself together very well, but now that all the attention was placed on her it was beginning to crack.

"She is my companion." Anton spoke a little louder than normal to attract the soldiers attention. "She has suffered terrible burns and she wishes to conceal them. And she doesn't need to show them to you."

"That she has." Virgil added with a small nod. “I'll vouch for her. For all three of them in fact.”

Anton glanced back at Cetina. When their eyes met she shrank a little as she shook her head the tiniest amount. She hadn't told Virgil of what she saw in the cart. He was just covering for them.

Does he expect this to be returned as a favour?

The soldier stared at Virgil for a moment before turning to Duran. Duran, upon realising he was the center of attention, nodded slightly. The soldier sighed and rubbed his brow with the metal gauntlet, the skin underneath turned red from the agitation.

"Alright." the soldier looked straight at Anton. "Keep out of trouble and things will be fine."

Anton nodded. He had no intention of causing any disturbance when he was in Porswea or anywhere in Graterious. They needed to head to Seocuria as fast as they could.

One of the other Graterious soldiers walked up to the lead soldier. "We just checked everything. Seems to be okay."

Duran smiled and looked back to the convoy. Anton caught the eye of Eluria and Sancha looking towards him, an obvious strain on their faces to keep contact away from them.

"Finally." he said loudly to the Bebbezarian merchants. "We can finally enter Porswea and begin our new lives."

The merchants let out a subdued cheer, seemingly conscious of the hundreds of people travelling around them and those waiting behind. Anton caught Cetina looking quite happy herself.

The soldier, ignoring Duran, nodded and moved to the side. "The entrance fee will be waived this time. I don't think that Lord Cassius will miss some silver from the vagrants." He looked straight at Anton. "Don't cause any trouble. And welcome to Porswea."

The last sentence was utterly devoid of sincerity. Verona grumbled but nodded alongside Anton. Anton breathed a sigh of relief as they were waved through the large gate. The Graterious soldiers moved to the side and let them pass as they joined a smaller column of people entering Porswea.

The moment they were inside it was clear they just crossed a boundary into a different world. Gone were the rough and rotting shanty buildings, replaced by large, straight and tall wooden and stone buildings. These were built by professionals, rigid and strong. Anton nearly gasped at the sight of so many buildings, and people. So too did Verona and Kal. The people inside Porswea were far better dressed than those outside. And better washed. These didn't wear the rags of those outside but full sets of clothes, a little bit better than what they currently wore but nothing spectacular. Functional. Some wore brighter and more fine clothes but they were the exception. They must be entering a workers district of Porswea. The rich and elite wouldn't live near people like this. All along the street there were dozens of market stalls and shops that were selling a multitude of goods, hecklers shouting to the passerby's to peruse their wares.

As it appeared they didn't know where to go, and other people, caravans and traders were trying to get past, the caravan followed Virgil and the Bandit Hunters down a side street. While Anton was initially hesitant to follow, remembering Alfred's words, he kept his eyes and wits about him as they followed. The caravan found a quiet area to the side of the busy roads and streets. Judging by the lack of market stalls and shops and the abundance of smaller trading caravans waiting nearby this was a regular stopping point. Virgil moved his horse close to Anton. Now that he was inside this massive city, with the promise of the pleasures of flesh, he appeared extraordinarily happy.

"That's a horrific smile you have on your face." Anton said quietly as he approached.

Virgil laughed, his hands dropped the reins of his horse and rubbed his neck. "That I am. Some good food, drink and women await us. As soon as we're paid that is."

"From Lord Cassius?"

Virgil nodded. "Indeed. He'll be pissed to know that the bandits are back in the south-east again, but that's not my problem."

"Won't he think the you aren't doing your job well?" Verona asked.

Virgil shook his head. "No. I hope not. Anyway..." He looked intently at Anton. "I'll put a word into Cassius about you...Three. I know that the rest of my men won't be able to keep their mouths shut for too long, and I think that it would be best if he hears it straight from me. And not after a dozen drunken stories have turned you three into Demons that obliterated an army."

Anton smiled and nodded. If Virgil knew the truth, that they had been involved with the destruction of an army of Clansmen and Orcs, he would definitely call them Demons.

"I don't know if that'll help you, doing what ever it is you are doing, but having friends in high places wouldn't hurt."

"That it won't." Anton replied.

“So where will you be going after this?” Virgil asked, cocking his head slightly. “This looks like it's your first time here. Do you know a good Inn?”

Anton shook his head. “No. I was about to ask you for some advice on that.”

“Well. If you want a good place, that's not going to rob you, you'll want to head to The Orange Haven. It's a little bit expensive but they're very good.” Virgil smiled. “They even have some rooms that have a bath in it, so you don't have to use a public one, if you're willing to pay.”

Verona and Kal nodded. Anton wanted to have a decent bath too, and it's not like they were poor.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Anton replied.

Virgil quickly rattled off a list of directions. He did his best to keep the instructions simple, finally finishing off that they could just ask a stall owner and they should give them directions. He mentioned that they might have to buy something for the information, the people of Porswea would want something in return.

Virgil nodded as Anton recounted the instructions correctly and a new rider approached. Cetina, still trying to get her horse under control, approached them gingerly.

"Right. Good luck with what ever you're doing." Virgil whistled loudly, the Bandit Hunters snapping to the source. "Let's go and get paid."

They let out a cheer as they gathered together and left the Bebbezarian merchants. They looked just like Virgil did now. The lure of the pleasures of city life were great for these people, especially when they were risking their lives to fight murderous bandits. No one could deny them some physical pleasure to calm their nerves.

"Good luck." Virgil took the reins up again. "Let's hope there's not a Ghlotsm attack the next we meet."

He gave a small wave, which they returned, as he joined he rest of his men. As he passed Cetina he gave her a tiny nod and said something very quietly to her. Cetina's face recoiled in disgust as Virgil burst out laughing, giving them a final wave before leading his men away and back to the busy thoroughfares.

"What did he say?" Verona asked as Cetina stopped a few meters away.

Cetina, still a little flushed, shook her head. "Something disgusting about him and my sister." She looked back to the caravan. Anton saw Duran, Eluria and Sancha moving from cart to cart. They were performing one last check before they moved into the city proper, to start their new lives, however that was meant to happen. "They've been treating me better these past few days."

Verona shot Anton a look, one that he understood instantly.

"Yes..." Kal said quietly. "That... That may not last much longer."

Cetina frowned at Kal. At least her knowledge of Kal being some sort of Beast-kin wasn't the issue.

"Since we've been here..." Kal trailed off as she looked to Duran. Cetina followed and caught the eye of her adoptive mother, following close behind.

"You... You might find things go really bad as soon as we're gone.” Anton continued. “It's a little hard to be a pain in the arse when three very dangerous people are right next to them. But when we're gone...”

It dawned upon Cetina. She slowly nodded as she looked back to her family. “I...I thought that might happen. I just enjoyed speaking to my father these past few days, more than a few sentences at a time. It's just been so long.” A tear came to her eyes, quickly removed. “But, thank you for warning me. I may need to leave after all, just after I thought things might be getting better.”

“I'm sorry that we can't do anything more.” Verona continued. “But we need to keep moving. There's quite a few things we need to get in Porswea before we move on, and we are on a time limit.”

Anton nodded. “Some better armour, maybe some better cooking equipment...and some small metal bands.”

Both Verona and Kal looked at Anton. When he raised his hand Verona flushed and Kal coughed loudly. They understood his implication.

“But, we have something for you first.”

Anton reached underneath his armour and opened one of the small pouches of gold coins. While they had done a good job of keeping their wealth hidden during their travel through the countryside he wondered how they would fare against determined pick pockets. He found five gold coins and pulled them out, still concealed by his closed fist. He motioned for Cetina to move closer, which she did with some hesitation.

"Hold out your hand." Anton said.

Cetina frowned but did as she was told. He reached over and placed his hand on her leather glove and let the coins drop. When he removed his hand Cetina's grey and purple eyes bulged from their sockets.

"H...How?" she asked, still completely and utterly disbelieving at the wealth that was placed in her hand.

"We have our ways." Anton said quietly. He didn't want everyone to know they had that much wealth on them. "This is our gift to you. You can do whatever you want with it."

Cetina continued to stare at the gold coins. Slowly she brought her other hand up and stroked one of the coins, the yellow metal clinking lightly in her hands.

"Why?" she looked up at them, confusion clearly plastered over her face. "I haven't...done...that sort of stuff for you." Cetina was lightly blushing by the end. It wasn't hard to figure out what she was getting at.

Anton looked to Verona. "I...none of us, would feel right to leave you with nothing after we saw how you were treated. And that was only for a couple of days." Cetina scrunched up her hands and brought them to her lap. "You can use that to escape from your life, if you wish, or however you want. It's your choice for here on."

"If we come back I don't want to see you still be treated like crap." Verona said. Everyone looked to her but she shrugged and looked intently at Cetina.

Cetina looked down at the coins again. She moved them to a small pouch on her hip. "I... I don't know what I want to do now." she gave the pouch a little press and took the reins of her horse. "Since we met you my mind has been wandering and dreaming about what I want to do with my life. If I'm honest, I thought you said that to keep me quiet about...So I don't know what I'll do now. I think that I'll see how it goes in Porswea before I make any decisions."

"Don't stay because you think it'll get better." Kal said quietly. "Because it won't."

Cetina opened her mouth, held it, then clamped it shut. She had seen Seocuria.

"I...will keep that in mind."

"Whatever you end up doing, I hope that you're happy with it." Anton said as he saw Duran approach. Cetina nodded, a new determination on her face, as she looked to her father. Duran had aged a few years in the scant days they have known each other.

He looked at his actual daughter and smiled. "We're just about ready to depart. How about you Cetina?"

"Ugh...I'm...I'm...basically ready." Cetina stumbled out her words. The awkwardness in her voice was clear in not just her voice, but her body as well. Her hands twitched, she could barely look her father in the eye, and she kept glancing up at them, almost for reassurance. Their relationship would need a lot of healing before it could be even considered normal.

"I...Was just saying goodbye to Anton, Kal and Verona." Cetina gained more courage as she spoke.

Duran smiled at her, one pained with regret, then turned to them, the normal smile returning. "It has been an absolute...Well, I can't really say that..."

"It's been an interesting trip." Anton said. Duran nodded and smiled.

"One the two of you shouldn't be forgetting any time soon." Verona added. There was a seriousness in he voice and on her face. Both Duran and Cetina nodded.

"What will you three be doing now that you're in Porswea?" Duran asked. "You didn't seem like you have much of a plan once you arrived here."

Anton caught Cetina glance at Kal. Kal turned her head, still hidden by the white and green mask, before averting her gaze and placed it back on her father.

"Virgil gave us the name of an Inn that's meant to be pretty good." Anton replied. "One that doesn't go through your stuff while you're asleep."

"Those places that do don't tend to last very long." Duran smiled, raising a finger and shaking it. "It's very, very bad for business. No one's going to trust them once the stories get out. Only those truly desperate would go, and you don't look like them."

Anton shrugged. "I guess that it is bad for business. But it's not our problem what they do. After we spend a few moments relaxing I think we'll be going to be few shops." Anton looked all three of them over. "Get some better armour for us, then a few other things and we'll go from there. I hear that there's a magical academy here that might be of some use."

"This is the first time that I've been to Porswea." Duran smiled bitterly. "So, despite all that you have done for us, I cannot help you any further."

Anton waved him down. "That's fine. We'll find our way from here. Virgil gave us pretty easy instructions to follow. I just know that we need to stay of the back streets."

"That goes the same for every city, I think." Duran smiled warmly.

"What are you going to be trading?" Verona asked. "It doesn't look like you have all that much left with you."

Duran simply smiled back. "We still have a few things that we can sell to get us going. A man from Bebbezar can always find a good deal. No matter what. We'll find somewhere where we can ply our trades. Don't you worry about us. We'll all be wealthy by the time we meet again."

"We're ready!" a merchant guard cried out.

Duran returned the wave and turned back to Anton. "It looks like we are moving again. I wish you all the best with your adventures."

"Thank you." Anton replied. "May you have luck with your business as well."

He lowered his hand as much as he could. Duran looked a little nervous but accepted it regardless. It was a firm handshake, one where he did not try and show off his strength.

Duran moved to the side and let them pass. As they neared Cetina he offered his hand again. Just like with her father, Cetina was a little hesitant to take it. However she returned it. Anton knew that, underneath the leather gloves, lay a very powerful arm and body. Why her step family thought they could abuse her and get away with it, he didn't know. He hoped there wouldn't be any more of that. Verona offered her hand. Cetina appeared to be a little more nervous, especially after their brief scuffle, and finally so too did Kal. Cetina froze at seeing the cloth wrapped hand thrust out towards her. She was one of the few people that knew what Kal was. It was impossible to tell what Kal was thinking behind that mask but Anton knew from her body language, a body that he knew very well, that there was no malice behind her action.

Cetina took another breath and took the hand. She glanced down at her glove, where Kals claws were gripping, and looked up. A deep sadness overcame her face. She let Kal's hand go and gripped hard on the reins of her horse.

"Good luck. All of you." she said. “With whatever you plan to do here, and beyond.”

They returned the wave as they followed Virgil's trail back to the main road. Anton gave them another sideways glance, catching the eye of Eluria and Sancha. Their eyes were filled, bristling with anger and hate. Anton wasn't hurt by their emotions directed at the them. They had ruined whatever stupid little thing they had going on before. Strangely there was an undercurrent of smugness in the faces.

If you think that things are going to go back to the the way things were I think you're in for a big surprise. Cetina's not going to be your punching bag anymore and hopefully Duran isn't going to be hypnotised by some fluttering of eye lashes. If you do try anything it'll only end badly for you. Only time will tell.

Anton smiled inanely and waved to them, Verona joining in as well, while they glanced at each other and looked away. Anton chuckled as they neared the busy streets.

"What was that about?" Kal asked, glancing towards Verona. "Are you stirring them up, like Verona did... That morning?"

Verona chuckled. "Oh, that was fun. I loved their little squirming faces, when their shit was thrown back at them."

"Basically that." Anton replied to Kal. "I know that we've got more important things to worry about but seeing them behave like that really irked me. And yes, seeing them squirm like that was a little fun."

Kal chuckled and he was sure that she was smiling underneath the mask.

"So..." Verona began. "We're off to that place the Virgil said... Is it a good idea to head there?"

Anton hesitated before he answered. "It'll mean that Virgil and his employer, Lord Cassius, knows where we are. But we don't really want to take too many chances with the places around here." Anton looked them over again. "And if they were to judge us just by our appearance they would think us vagabonds that are just there to waste their time. It's going to be a little difficult to prove that we aren't wasting their time."

"Or a crazy masked person and someone, that everyone keeps calling, a Clansmen." Verona huffed dramatically at the end.

Anton reached over and ruffled her silver hair, to which she playfully stuck out her tongue.

"I like your silver hair." Anton said. "I wonder if those silver haired Clansmen are as tall as the rest of them?"

"I hope not." Verona grumbled, straightening her ruffled hair and taking great care to not dislodge her red and silver barrette. "Then I'll have missed out on their one good trait."

Kal was looking down at Verona's chest. She shook her head when Verona caught her looking.

"What?"

"You don't have that much to complain about." Kal kept her head dead straight the entire time.

Verona laughed. "And neither do you. Yours are bigger than most of the people back home. At least bigger than Sam's."

"Is that something to be proud of?" Kal asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

Verona shrugged. "For me it is, and I'm sure it's a bit for you too.” Kal shook her head but still seemed happy. If Anton was honest he enjoyed them too. “Come on, time for us to have a good bath and a nice soft bed for the first in a long while."

"I would love to get this grime off me." Anton said. “And to take a proper bath with you two.”

Verona smiled wickedly, the same ear to ear smirk when she was thinking of something dirty. She didn't have to say anything for both of their faces to heat up.

Anton took one last look back at the Bebbezarian Merchants as they passed out of sight. He hoped that they would meet again one day, on better terms.

---[]---

Anton didn't realise that the main streets of Porswea could be this busy. Hundreds upon thousands of people pushed past them as they followed a column of horses through the streets. Everything had a strange mixture of an a ordered chaos. There were no lines or people to direct the traffic, yet it all formed into a relatively ordered street. Somehow. That didn't stop the odd person bumping into their horses when they tried to cross the horse lines and didn't bother to look. A few curses came from the unobservant men and women as they were shunted about, but otherwise they were allowed to continue on their way.

They rode three abreast, with Kal in the middle. Now that they were in the center of the bustling city people passing by took even less notice of her. A quick glance, seeing a strange woman wearing a white and green mask, was all they afforded her. For that they were all grateful.

Virgil gave them only a rudimentary set of directions, the standard take a left and then the third right, to find the Inn. What he did say was the exterior was bright orange and would be easily spotted and that anyone they asked would know where it is. Not that it was helping them right now. Their heads bobbed and darted about as they searched for the Inn. Kal's hand reached hard onto Anton's as he was searching. Her whole body was frozen solid, thankfully her horse didn't stop and continued its leisurely stroll alongside them.

"What's wrong?" Anton asked quietly. While it was impossible to read her face he could feel that something had spooked her. He followed her eye line, as best he could, until he saw what made her freeze.

A small gap emerged in the flow of people moving past. Anton counted twenty people chained together in a long line, but not all of these were people as he recognised them. Ten were the size of a human but were covered in a thick brown. Their faces were also covered in fur and elongated around to the nose. The nose was quite large, rounded, and made from a rough black material. Out from underneath their badly kept hair hung two floppy ears. These reached the bottom of their jaw line and were covered in the same brown fur as the rest of their body.

The other ten were different again. A light green scaly skin covered their bodies, no fur anywhere on their body. Their months were more akin to a beak than a human's mouth, and their backs had a carapace like hide, rather more like a shell. Or a man sized turtle.

Anton didn't need Kal to explain who or what they were. They were Beast-kin. Beast-kin slaves.

"Are those Beast-kin?" Verona asked aloud, if only for confirmation. When she saw Kal's frozen form she had her answer. "I thought Duran said that Seocuria was the only place that had them... No, he complained about Graterious using them as slaves."

As they neared Kal returned to life. She released her grip on Anton and took back the reins. The Beast-kin trudged past, two burly men at the front and back, armed with large iron batons, kept them moving in the right direction. Little concern was given to them by the Graterious humans moving past. Their main concern appeared to be accidently be on the receiving end of one of the iron baton strikes.

As they passed in silence, other than the clunking of their chains, all the Beast-kin kept their heads down and never looked up. Kal began whimpering a line over and over. Anton moved a little closer, to hear her words and to keep her from doing something silly.

"I'm so sorry." Kal was clearly holding back a fountain of tears. Anton took her hand but it seemed to do little good. In fact, it made it even worse. No one noticed and the Beast-kin passed by, not knowing that a free half breed rode right past them. A few seconds passed before Kal said anything.

"Sorry." Kal reflexively tried to wipe away the tears but the mask prevented her. She groaned as she ran her cloth wrapped fingers down it. "They're still in chains, beaten and raped. Every. Day. Only seeing the sun when it is time to work, from dawn to dusk. Never being able to enjoy the light. And...I have you two with me."

Kal shook her head and said nothing more. Anton gently released his hold, which Kal appeared to appreciate, and they continued riding in silence.

Less than a minute passed and they found the Inn. Virgil hand not been lying about the colour of the building. It was orange, almost blindingly so. But as they approached, cutting through the other lines of horse traffic like they were a car on a road, it become obvious that the building was a little old. While light stains and odd discolourations covered the exterior it had been repainted relatively recently. Out the front of the Inn stood dozens of horses tide to a long horizontal post, partaking in an open water trough, protected from the passing traffic by a sturdy wooden fence. The whole establishment appeared to be a more classy version of the Inn at Soulthor.

Two armoured men stood guard at the entrance of the Inn. Their armour was not the Roman style of the normal Graterious soldiers. These were plain metal armour plates interwoven with chain mail. Several of the plates on their chest were the same orange as the building. They weren't pretty, but they would be tough in a fight.

Both men glanced at one another as they approached, a disbelieving look on their faces. Anton knew their current attire, and even their choice in horses, didn't speak of extravagant wealth. Nonetheless the guards said nothing and allowed them through, keeping them in their peripheries at all times. There was no young boy to collect the horses so they bound their reins to the pole themselves. Their horses partook in the open water trough and thoroughly ignored them as they recovered their packs and moved inside. Two more guards stood at the entrance and frowned as they approached, holding the door shut. Both guards looked them over and frowned.

"You don't look like you can afford this place." one said.

"I'm sure we can." Anton replied.

The guards looked at each other before the first shrugged. "Well, if you don't we'll be seeing you really soon."

They parted and allowed passage into the Inn. Anton gave them a small nod, they were just doing their job and anyone would say they didn't have the money, and Verona and Kal followed closely behind. Anton almost gasped at the interior of the Inn, Verona had no such control this time. The only words to describe it was luxurious. An amazingly detailed and colourful carpet covered the floor, seats and tables on top that appeared to have been stolen from Duchess Belinda's mansion. Large plants adorned the corners of the room while large sheets of a dull orange cloth hanged from the ceiling and gave the Inn a more cosy feel. Small braziers burned in the center of the small gathering of chairs and couches, the orange flickering light nearly blending completely into the surrounding. Sitting on some of the seats were the obviously well off clientele. They dressed conservatively in simple clothes, though bright and varied colours, and they did not look cheap. Huddled away in little groups they stopped talking when they saw them approach. Immediately their faces changed to confusion or amusement. Either they were about to be thrown out, something that would undoubtedly be entertaining for them, or someone eccentric was entering.

At the center of the room stood a reception desk, if it could be called that. A young woman, wearing a simple and flowing orange dress, moved forward to greet them. Anton immediately saw through the business smile on her face.

"Welcome to the Orange Haven." she began, an undertone of annoyance of having to deal with three obviously poor people in her voice. "Do you have a reservation?"

"No." Anton replied in a jovial tone. "We were hoping to spend a few days in your establishment." The woman opened her mouth to speak but Anton cut her off. "And before you say anything, Yes we do have money."

The woman's mouth closed and the smile returned. At least she was entertaining them this far.

"Very well. What sort of room would you be requesting?"

"Not too fussed about the size of the bed." Verona began, the woman's attention firmly planted on Verona's silver hair. "But is there one with a bath? We were told there was one here. I really want to have one."

The woman smiled at Verona, took a quick glance at Kal, then rested her eyes back on Anton. "Of course. We have such rooms available. They are more than simple rooms with a wooden crate for a bath. The Orange Haven has some of the most luxurious rooms available in Porswea. I take it that you'll be wanting one room for the three of you?”

Verona let out a strange noise, the wide smile was back. "Yes. We'll take that one." she looked at the both of them. "Yeah? A place where we can relax and properly wash ourselves?"

Anton and Kal nodded.

"Sounds like a good idea." Anton turned to the woman. "And how much would that cost? Per night?"

Now the woman looked a little serious. Many mathematical equations were flying through her head, trying to figure out how much money she could squeeze out of them. Very quickly she came to a decision.

"An establishment like this does come with a price. Especially...For you it'll be thirty silver coins for each night you wish to stay."

Anton took a quick glance to the seated people. There was nothing on their faces to hint that was an expensive price or they were being ripped off.

These places do need to make money, so I can't complain too much. Besides we'll only be staying for a few days and this place seems relatively secure. Don't want someone to try and go through our stuff in a cheaper Inn... That'll be something to experiment with later. So we can start to judge what's a good place. But for now, hang the expense!...I really want a bath. This'll be the first time I've taken a bath with Kal, and Verona at the same time. This should be fun.

"Excellent." Anton replied, to the woman's mild surprise. "Could we have two nights then?"

"I...Yes. So long as you have the money."

Anton reached underneath his armour and pulled out a single gold coin. While they had a few silver coins on their personage it wasn't enough. He hoped that she had enough change, or Graterious had some sort of denomination so they wouldn't have to carry a bag of several hundred silver coins. That was a problem that Anton had been thinking about, bubbling away in the back of his mind. How did someone with five hundred silver coins actually carry them around without a massive sack? In Maxill, at least, they had only a small amount of change from the gold coins. They would soon find out.

The woman took the coin with some hesitation. She inspected it closely, checking over every part of the golden circle, before slowly nodding.

"I... My apologies if I appeared rude before." The woman bowed lower enough to show a modest amount of cleavage. "Quite often we have to deal with some quite undesirable people who try and waste our time or try and steal something from us or our clientele. I must says that you look more like the former, rather than thieves."

"We're going to be working on that." Anton smiled back. "I think we'll get settled in and then we'll get directions to a good supplier of better clothes and armour."

The woman nodded. "I will get your change immediately. Do you require any assistance in carrying your belongings?"

All three shook their heads. The woman smiled and returned to her desk. She waved to one of the nearby low hanging orange sheets of cloth and a soldier emerged. Anton didn't see him until he moved out of the shadows. He joined the woman at the desk and produced a key from around his neck, so too did the woman. A few metal clicks later and they had opened some sort of metal safe, what that would be on this world Anton was a little curious to find out, but not enough to get into trouble.

The woman returned with a series of silver rings and silver plates. She gave them to Anton, they were quite heavy in his hand, and smiled warmly. Anton held his face flat and devoid of emotion as he looked down at the silver in his hand. There were nine silver rings, large enough to go over his wrists, and three silver plates, larger than the coins and just a little bit thinner.

Alright. Since I paid the equivalent of a thousand silver coins, I'm guessing the rings are worth one hundred silver coins and the plates are worth ten. I'm guessing that it makes sense. On Earth we have notes that have different denomination of dollars. It wouldn't make sense to carry a hundred single dollar notes when you could just get away with one. I'll have to pretend that I know what I'm doing.

Anton nodded as he found a pocket large enough for the silver to enter. “Thanks. Are meals included in this?”

The woman shook her head. “I'm afraid not. All meals will have to be paid upon delivery.”

Well, that makes things a little bit easier for us. Nobody should be entering the room and that means that we can relax. Kal can also eat food without having to hide herself. This isn't such a bad thing.

“Thank you.” Anton smiled again. “May we please be shown to our rooms now?”

“Of course. I-”

“Oh. Sorry to interrupt.” Anton smiled awkwardly as the woman raised a brow. “But we have three horses outside that we need taken care of. Is that possible?”

“It is. I'll get the guards to take them inside the stable and have them taken care of. That won't incur an additional fee.”

Anton smiled and nodded furiously. “Thank you very much. So, where are our rooms?”

The woman nodded at some guards hiding in the corner of the room. They came forward and moved towards the back of the room and past the reception desk. It appeared that's where they were meant to go. Anton gave the woman another nod, picked up their packs, and followed them closely. He caught the woman check them over as they walked away before she returned to her previous position.

The guard led them to their room through a series of winding and narrow corridors before finally stopping at a seemingly innocuous door. It looked the exact same as the others, except this had the number twelve on it. The guard opened the door and allowed them in. Anton gave the guards a curt nod before they headed inside. Once inside Anton was, again, acutely aware how rough they had been living. The room was huge and very well furnished; a large soft bed, many cupboards for their clothes and some very plush chairs surrounding a table with a large selection of food. It appeared they wouldn't be paying for this first selection of food. To the side, and hidden behind some thick orange curtains, he could see a large bath submerged into the floor. A white stone surrounded the bath, so water splashes wouldn't reach the rest of room, while a soft carpet and fine wood floor made up the rest of the room. It was a lot bigger than he thought, more of a small pool than a bath tub, not that he was complaining. It appeared to have the faintest wisps of steam rising from the smooth surface. He didn't know if it was heated, or if it used a magical artefact of some kind, but he was going to find out soon enough.

"I see that there's food laid out here." Anton looked to the soldier. "If we need more, who do we ask? I didn't get it from the owner lady."

"You can ask one of the cooks, or a servant." He replied. "They'll get the message through. It will cost you extra, depending what you want."

"Right. Well, thanks." Anton said as he gently placed the packs down and turned to the man.

He nodded and closed the door. Anton didn't hear it click so he and Kal moved a large couch to block the door. Verona didn't wait and, after roughly placing her bags down and resting her spear against the wall, dove for the bed. She crashed face first into the large luxurious bed, the structure barely making a sound under her weight as she flopped about like a fish out of water.

"By all the Gods this is good." Verona moaned as she wriggled deeper into the folds of the bed. "So...comfy." Without looking back she raised her hand towards Anton and Kal, who had just finished securing the door. "We need one of these back home. How much do you think it would cost?"

"It's not a matter of cost." Anton said as he approached the bed, Kal following closely behind, after placing the bow next to Verona's spear, with her mask still on. There was a chance that they could be spied on, but Virgil assured them that was not the case here, for whatever that meant coming from him. "It's how difficult It'll be to move back to Atros."

Anton lay on the bed next to Verona. She was right about how comfy it was. His body fell into the soft material. It was surprising how quickly he became used to the relative harshness of this world, and how quickly he longed for the comfort of his old. He let out a weak groan as he lay on his back on the bed. It was more than wide enough for him to lie down across its length without his head falling off. Tiny squeaks and cracks emanated from his bones as he felt his body relax into the soft surface.

"I'm not that old yet. Am I?"

"Who are you talking to?" Kal asked, titling her masked face.

Anton shook his head and reached for Kal's hand. Before she could react he pulled her down and onto the bed next to him. She squeaked in surprise as her elbow connected with the bed and she rolled onto Anton's side.

"I really want to take that off." Anton said, reaching for the white and green mask.

Kal offered no resistance as he gently pried the mask free, with a little assistance from one of Kal's free hands. With the mask free he was now able to see the face of someone he loved that had been hidden for several days. He would never tire of seeing her brilliant green horizontal cat slit eyes. The rest of the cloth wrappings hid her face were still bound tight so she removed them. Verona let out another moan as she raised herself up and began to unfasten her armour. She patted on Anton's armoured chest for him to do the same thing. It only took a few moments for all of them to be free of their armour. Verona took their pieces and placed them neatly next to her spear and Kal's bow. Anton sat on the edge and rubbed his arms while Kal tried her best to straighten out her hair.

"I'm kind of glad to be out of those." Verona slapped her hands together repeatedly as she returned to the bed. "Wearing them all the time is a little bit irritating."

"What about for-"

"Support?" Verona cut Anton off as she knelt on the bed beside him. She used both hands to pick up her breasts and let them drop. "That's good, don't get me wrong. You don't have to carry around all this weight on your front." Verona lent around Anton to Kal. She had a brush out and was trying her best to straighten her hair. Verona's eyes darted down to Kal's chest. "Though Kal basically knows what I'm talking about...Especially after you healed them bigger."

Anton chuckled and gave Verona a kiss, one which she nearly pushed him over in a frenzied desire.

"But at least now we can wash ourselves." Verona's eyes drifted to the large bath. “You know, before...”

"We really haven't had a wash since that time at the lake." Anton smiled.

"It...It's noticeable." Kal smiled as she sniffed at his clothes, recoiling in a playful disgust. She looked around and then at Anton. "Is...Is it really safe for me to be like this? I don't want to be found out when I'm so close."

Anton looked around. The walls were flat and uniform, no places for peep holes, and so was the ceiling. There was only a single large window at the top of the far wall though it was quite opaque. It would be impossible to tell that Kal was a half-breed beast-kin. So long as they didn't attract too much attention it should be alright. His magic could more than compensate if something went wrong. Anton nodded and gave her a light kiss. "Of course it is. I want to see you in your full splendour."

Kal flushed and her tail tried to escape its confines. "I hate it when you do that to me." she punched him lightly in the arm. "You do that entirely on purpose. Just to see me fluster like that."

"I do." Anton admitted, eliciting a wry smile from Kal. "And I mean every word."

Kal chuckled and patted his leg. "So. Somehow I've made it into one of the largest human cities in the Shattered Kingdoms without being found out...Never though that would happen. What's the next step?"

Verona let out a noise. Her shirt had already been removed, revealing the thin piece of cloth that acted as a bra. She looked oddly back at them, a confused look on her face. "I thought, I thought that, since we're here, the first thing we should do is have a bath. Get the filth and grime off us and then think of the next step. The warm water should help clear our heads."

Anton looked at the bath. It sure was enticing, only only served to make him more acutely aware of the grime covering his skin. "That sounds like a really good idea. It'll be nice to slide into the water with both of you. "

Verona quickly stripped herself of clothes and lowered a tentative toe into the water. She didn't recoil and slowly slid in up to her neck, all the while moaning in joy.

"And I thought the bed was good." Verona said, stretching both of her arms above her head, the droplets pattering back into the bath. "You two have to get in here right now."

Anton removed his clothes and slowly walked into the bath, following a series of steps that formed the interior of the stone bath and deeper into the water. Anton expected the water to be quite hot, it was pleasantly warm. He felt his body relax the water washed away the grime and his stress while he took a seat next to Verona. She appeared so relaxed in the water, and for good reason. The water was taking the weight off her breasts as they floated infront of her. She caught him looking as a wild smile grew on her face.

"We need one of these too." Verona patted his thigh through the water. "I know, for a fact, that every large woman in Atros will be lining up to use one of those. Can either of you use your magic to make that happen?"

Anton scratched his head and ran his wet fingers through his greasy hair. It would take more than this warm, and very pleasant, water to fix that. He glanced around but couldn't find anything that resembled soap. That might be available for purchase later.

"I suppose you could." Anton replied. "It would use up a lot of mana to make this. It took me heaps just to make that spoon. It'll take far more than any of us have, though if we word it so it would take multiple prayers. That's an idea. We also need to find out how much mana Kal has and what the extent of her powers are. How they compare to mine. Really haven't had a chance to test it out yet."

"Right." Verona nodded. She slunk further down into the water until it covered her head. She emerged a moment later, her wet silver hair clinging to her face. "So we need to do it in chunks then. Just like this plan to get to Seocuria."

"I think it would be easier just to dig a bath first and then find out whatever they are using to heat all this water." Anton looked deeper into the pool, Verona tried her best to help him search. "I can't see anything that could do it. Or even where they let the water in. Or out."

"The grate?" Verona pointed to the slab of metal in the middle of the bath.

"Don't think so. That would be where the...water..."

Anton stopped. There was something missing to his side, a third person was missing from the bath. He turned around to see Kal standing behind them. She was naked, her majestic tail curled around her body, but she had yet to join them. The claws on her feet tapped nervously on the hard floor while her hands gripped at her fur covered elbows.

"Are you going to join us?" Anton asked. For a moment he wanted to ask what was wrong but he knew it wasn't the right thing to say.

"I...I don't know." Kal replied. "I just..."

Anton rose out of the water and held her hands, still clutching at her elbows. She looked up at him with a strange sense of worry in her eyes.

"Seeing those Beast-kin..." Kal shook her head. "I know it's silly to think like this, but is it right for me to enjoy this while they are still suffering?"

"I...I don't know." Anton replied. "I don't think it's that silly to think like that, with everything you've been through." Kal lowered her head. Now she looked a little ashamed of what she had said. "But if they knew what we are going to do for them they wouldn't even care that you're going to take a bath. Besides, as your future husband, I want you to take a bath with me. And that's the end of that."

"I don't know. I still don't feel right with them..." Kal frowned and looked deep into his eyes. Her own squinted slightly as they darted from eye to eye. "What did you just say?"

A series of splashes came from behind. Verona emerged from the bath and, while letting the water roll off her impressive naked form, moved next to Kal.

"What did you say?" Verona asked. "That end bit? You just said something."

Now it was Anton's turn to be embarrassed. While the words had slipped out of his mind in a desperate way to stop Kal being depressed over seeing the enslaved Beast-kin, the thought had been swirling around in his head for some time. During Sam's and Jeff's wedding he had mentioned to Verona about getting some better wedding rings, a thought that excited them both. On the journey, in their quiet moments, the thoughts had swirled around in his head and had only grown. He made up his mind about this a while ago so there was no reason to hide it now, especially when any attempt to cover it up would only hurt them.

"I suppose those words came out a little early, and far too nonchalantly, so I'll do it right." Anton took one of their hands, both girls glancing at each other in confusion, both with an increasing temperature and heart rate. He dropped to one knee and looked up at them, Verona and Kal were now very nervous. They didn't know what the action signified.

I don't think that you're meant to be naked for this bit of the proposal but...Here goes nothing, I suppose.

"Okay... Verona, Kal. Will you do the honour and marry me?"

Neither said anything for a few seconds before a smile broke over Verona's face.

"Fuck yes!" she was so excited that she looked like she was about to burst. "Of course I will marry you. If you want me...” Verona flushed. “I didn't think you'd ask so soon. Or...at all."

"I was planning to have the wedding rings first. Then I was going to try and ask you in a better way, but I kind of threw it out a bit early. So I could get Kal into the bath."

Their eyes trained on Kal. Her eyes were turning misty as great tears built in the corners. Verona flashed him a smile as Kal burst into tears.

"I never thought I'd be asked. Ever. I..." Kal whipped away the tears as Anton stood up. She didn't let go of his hand and pulled herself in for a kiss. This wasn't like her normal ones, this was like Verona's; wild, passionate and filled with desire. When she parted her face was completely red, Anton felt that his was as well.

"Of course I'll marry you. I'll be your wife...One of them." Kal glanced at Verona and back to Anton. "Is it normal for someone to have to wives? Instead of a wife?"

"I don't think so." Verona replied, resting a hand on both of them. "But, none of us are exactly normal. Are we?"

Before Anton could answer Verona pushed them with all her might, quite a bit given her small size, and Anton and Kal both fell into the bath. Kal tucked herself into Anton, for protection, as they splashed into the warm water. A great plume of water rose up as Anton tried to get his bearings, his feet could reach the bottom of the bath. He didn't know if Kal knew how to swim but thankfully the water wasn't that deep.

Anton burst up through the water, Kal still in his arms. The water made the fur on her ears look rather odd, parts of the fur stuck themselves together like she was a cat that had been thrown into a bath. In a sense she was. She ran her hands, that fur also slightly matting together, through her hair and onto her mocha toned skin. After giving another glance at Anton, a hand squeezing lightly on his arm, she scowled at Verona before breaking into a smile.

"You're going to pay for that." Kal teased, moving closer to Anton.

Verona laughed and waded back into the water. Now that Kal was submerged up to her neck it meant her tail was too. It flowed through the warm water like a lazy snake, the three fans had condensed and followed the end of the green snake. Kal saw him looking and moved it slowly through the water and wrapped it around them, the three fan tips nestled between their joined arms, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Can... Can you just move a little closer?" Verona asked as she waded through the water. “Future husband and...future sister wife? A little help over here?” Her head was bobbing over the water as she stood on the final step of the bath. She would have to tread water to reach them.

Anton reached out and Verona, realising that they weren't going to move, pouted and swam to them, taking his hand and Kal's as she reached them. Verona laughed as she felt two sets of hands, one human and another Beast-kin, wrap around her waist and hold her up. She began to twitch in their arms.

"Can..." Verona looked between them as tears flowed from her eyes in great rivers. It was a little worrying, a thought mirrored on Kal's face. "Can we stay like this? I...I want to be with you two like this, for just a bit longer. Just...like this. Please..."

Anton nodded and brought them in as close as he could, their faces just a few centimetres from his own. Verona was crying, something he never thought he'd see her do and Kal seemed on the verge. Anton was choking up as well, he was glad that he didn't have to say anything. There would be many things they would need to talk about but that would have to wait. Now was not the time for words. They remained in their embrace, in complete silence and barely moving, for quite some time. It felt good just to hold them in his arms.

Chapter 081. Vol 3 - Leather and Bands

Chapter 081. Vol 3 - Leather and Bands:

Verona, dried and back into her normal clothes, happily sat on Anton's lap while he brushed her shoulder length silver hair. She said nothing since they left the bath, only humming the wordless tune that she occasionally sung, the same tune that she sung at the lake or in the god's dream world when her Goddess, Jira, did it to annoy her. To his side Kal sat on the bed, loosely wearing her ragged shirt, trying to get the last remnants of water out of her fur. It appeared she hadn't had the chance to properly clean herself for some time, the colour of her fur had brightened by several shades and even had a new shine to them. Now that they were clean the hairs stuck out, making her furred limbs appear a little bit fatter. Poofy, even. Her face was clearly stained with annoyance as she tried repeatedly to push it down flat, especially her long and hypnotic tail.

Finally the tune stopped as Anton neared the end of brushing Verona's hair. "That was...a relaxing bath." Verona mewled as she lent back into his chest. She held up her left hand up high, a smile coming to her face. "Didn't expect that to happen. I didn't think you'd ask us."

"Same." Kal said quietly. She had given up trying to flatten the fur on her limbs and now focused on the fan ends of her tail. She gave Anton a smile and lent in for a kiss. “Though I'm so happy you did.”

"It really just slipped out then." Anton kissed Verona's head after he parted from Kal. "I was originally planning to get some rings first. Then ask. But, these things happen the way they do. And I'm extremely happy you both said yes."

“What else would we have said?” Verona asked, an honest look of surprise on her face. Kal smiled as well before shuffling close and wrapping her tail around them both.

"Anyway, I have something that I was going to ask." Verona nestled herself deeper. "What is the plan for the rest of the day? I know that we could spend the day having some fun times on this really comfy bed but I know that we've got things to do. Besides, we've got tonight for that."

Kal shuffled closer and rested her head on his shoulder, her slightly poofy tail's end snaking its way to Verona's lap, much to her enjoyment.

"Well, we need to move with the next part of the plan. Getting to Seocuria." Anton felt Kal's hand grip lightly on his shoulder at the very mention of that place. He gave it a squeeze to reassure her. "So, we have a decision to make. We can keep going over land, the land that Virgil said is infested with bandits. Or we can buy a boat in a city to the east and sail to Seocuria. But I don't think that we'll be just able to buy a boat, and a crew, if we just show up with a ton of money. We'll also need a captain and crew that's quiet. So they won't blab about what we're taking with us and when we land south of that crystal fissure."

"That thing takes out going by land." Verona grumbled. "We took out the only land bridge and I don't think your mum wants to fight ten thousand Goblins trying to find a way around."

Kal simply nodded. "The boat sounds like it'll be the best. We've got enough money I'm sure. But how do we get it?"

"We're going to need help from the rulers." Anton replied. "This Lord Cassius. If we can get on his good side he might make things a little easier for us. Although I don't know if his territory extends to the sea. From what little we've heard I don't think this place is united. We'll need a better map of Graterious and who holds sway where. Still, having Lord Cassius on our side would help immensely I'm sure."

"I'm sure that Virgil has told him, or whomever he has running the city, what we did and who we are." Verona sighed. "So we'll probably have someone knocking on our door in a little bit."

Anton nodded. "Hopefully it won't be like Maxill."

"What happened there?" Kal asked. "That was before I arrived, was it?"

Verona nodded. "We had a fight with some thugs working for the Duchess, who weren't too nice about it. Though they were just thugs and not the sort of soldiers this place has. They didn't have swords and armour...and I broke one of their legs when they got too close."

"So while we wait, if it's even going to happen, we should get as much done as we can." Anton looked at the armour sitting by the wall. "Our weapons are pretty good, but our clothes...really need some improvement."

"Right...That and a jewellery shop." Verona played with her left hand again. "What sort of ring are you looking at getting?"

"I'll know it when I see it." Anton replied. “It'll be one of those things.”

“How..." Kal coughed as she shuffled on the bed. "How will I do get some better armour? If the armour is going to be good it needs to be made to size...So..."

"We'll figure something out." Anton gave Kal a quick kiss. "I'm sure that we can make any small adjustments later."

Kal nodded. "I wasn't able to ask before." Kal scratched at her beast-kin ear. "But did any sort of cities like this exist where you came from?" Anton turned to look at her, Kal shied away. "I'm sorry if I made you think about-"

Anton scratched her soft ear.

"It's fine, Kal. I just don't think too much about it. There's not a lot that I really miss about my old world. Especially now that I have you two." Kal smiled, but there was still a lingering sense of regret of having asked the question. Anton coughed and continued. "But, yes, there are cities as big as Porswea in my world. Some many times bigger, in the millions of people."

"Those must have been strange places to be." Verona said. "So many people all together."

"That was a major problem with those cities. Food, water, housing. Keeping the people healthy was one of the main problems as diseases would rapidly spread in such confined areas and wipe out tens of thousands of people. Poor sanitation was one of the main problems, just like what we saw outside the city. And that's something that we'll need to deal with now rather than later. I'll tell Bertram and everyone else to start thinking up ideas on how to solve those problems. I'm sure that everyone will be glad to know that we've made it to Porswea safely."

"That won't be until tonight." Verona crawled off Anton and went to her armour. "So let's go get some better gear, and some jewellery."

Kal's hand gripped tight on Anton's shoulder. "What about people coming in here and trying to steal our stuff? I know it might not happen with this place but there's a chance..."

Anton nodded and gave her hand a reassuring pat. "Good thinking. I'm thinking that I use the prayer power to make a trap for anyone that tries to open a pack that isn't one of us."

"Your power is much more useful than mine." Verona grumbled as she dropped the chest piece over her head. "Can it be done?"

"Only one way to find out. I was able to pick a lock with the power, so why not this?"

Anton spoke a prayer over each of their bags. If someone other than them where to try and open them they would receive a nasty shock and their skin would turn blue for several days. The same with their weapons. Anton really wanted to get into the magical academy to find anything more about the powers of the Old Gods. However they wouldn't just let anyone in. Getting permission to enter and explore the presumed libraries was something that Anton didn't know how to approach. Perhaps if they got the attention of Lord Cassius they could get in.

Kal started fidgeting. “Anton. When can we start to practice my magic? I know I haven't had a good chance yet with so many people around us. But we have some privacy to practice.”

“The moment we get back we'll practice.” Anton kissed her head. “We don't want to be tired when we go out.”

Kal nodded. “Right. I can't wait to see what I can do.” She seemed really excited as they checked themselves over once again and left the room.

---[]---

The streets of Porswea were still chaotic but, now they were travelling on foot, it didn't seem so bad. Anton guessed that most of their destinations wouldn't have a stable and someone to look after their horses, and Anton since didn't want to leave either of them out of arms length in this chaotic city, they travelled very closely together. With their usual weapons left behind, without the red crystal spear or bright white bow, they wouldn't stand out too much in the bustling crowd. Kal kept her hood pulled down tight to hide the obvious white and green mask. Verona kept her blade on her side for defence and Kal had her two rusted daggers on her hips, as well as the memento blade taken from the Orc, Zig. He held their hands tight as they moved with the flow of people. It was strange being so close to so many people in this world, though those passing by acted like this was completely normal to them. Which, it was.

After leaving the Inn they travelled deeper into the city, quickly finding themselves at a large junction. Whomever designed Porswea had the decency to have large marker posts built in the middle of busy junctions. These posts were well over ten meters tall with several large wooden signs hanging down from long awnings, all with some simplified shape pointing in a direction. Anton reasoned that most people here couldn't read, so they would have to use simple pictures to compensate.

They stopped near the edge of one such post.

"The Inn lady said to find the sign with two crossed swords and a shield." Verona said loudly to overpower the back ground noise of human activity. "Which is just there. We follow that and we should get to the armoury district. Then we just need to find someone good...that doesn't ask too many questions. I'm sure that'll be easy."

Anton nodded. He followed the direction of the sign. In that direction lay several columns of smoke, smoke from the chimneys of smiths. While he didn't know if they wanted metal armour it was the best action to take right now. His thoughts turned to Kal, her face and emotions were hidden by the mask but she didn't seem to be enjoying herself at all.

"How are you holding up?" Anton asked, pulling her closer.

Kal nodded. "I'm...I'm doing alright. I never though I'd be around so many people. All that would want to..."

Anton smiled and gave Kal a quick hug. "You're doing great. We'll all just stick together."

With Kal in between them they continued to move through the busy streets. As they neared the columns of smoke the people around them changed as well. Before it had been a true mixture of people and classes, they had seen a few more chain gangs of Beast-kin, now the people were becoming more militarily minded. Nearly everyone carried some sort of weapon, of exotic material and styles, and some form of armour, that too of different designs of metal and leathers. There were less people overall so they could spread out a bit, though neither let go of Anton's hands and kept very close.

Quite a few of the people passing by were women, and many looked like they would be tough fighters. None looked weak or dainty. Such pretenders would have been killed off the moment they saw real combat. Verona caught him looking at a group of women soldiers outside a shop that appeared to sell crossbows.

"What are you looking at?" Verona asked teasingly, the grip on his hand becoming a little tighter as her nails dug into his skin.

Anton nodded to the group. "I'm liking that they're wearing a full set of armour."

Kal made a noise as Verona brought them to a stop. She moved them to the side of the flow of people and looked at the group of women soldiers now inspecting their crossbows.

"What are we looking at?" Kal asked.

Verona nodded in their direction. "Anton's checking out their armour. And that's all he's doing."

Kal turned her head to him, cocking it slightly.

Anton smiled back. "I'm just glad that they aren't wearing sexy armour."

Kal made a noise as she looked at them. Each of the women soldiers wore a full set of armour, half wore a full metal set that lacked any ornamentation, while the other half wore varying combinations of leather and metal armour. Very little of their skin was exposed.

"What do you mean by sexy armour?" Kal asked. "I mean, I can guess what you're saying..."

"Basically where a woman wears armour that is more titillating than actually useful. Like one that only covered a bit of your crotches and boobs, leaving everything else exposed."

"That's just stupid. They'd be killed in an instant." Verona said as she shook her head. "One arrow to the gut...One nasty scratch and then...Infection..."

"Exactly why I'm glad not to see it."

Anton started them moving before the group of women soldiers realised that they were watching and studying them.

"But." Kal began once they were moving. "Why would someone wear that, someone that's not working in a...You know..."

Anton shrugged. "No idea. But I don't think it happens in reality. Where I come from it happens quite a bit, in stories at least. I'm sure that those women, and men for that matter, don't last too long when they actually need to fight. I can't imagine they could survive against a Green Goblin with most of their legs and guts and breasts exposed, let alone against another human being."

Verona chuckled and shook her head. They walked in relative silence, only the murmurs of the oddly well behaved and quiet soldiers, and the clanging of the forges, to fill the air until they found a shop that looked suitable for them. It was quite a large and well maintained shop, a sign with a metal shield and a needle and thread over it hanged over the door. Quite a few people were coming and going through it's doors. It seemed like a good place to start.

"This seems like a good place." Verona said happily. "Clean and doesn't look thrown together. They've even got...glass windows. And some good looking armor inside."

It was as good a place as any to start their shopping spree. The door jingled as they entered, a tiny bell was rattled by the passing door. A torrent of smells, of oils and leather, overwhelmed Anton with the first breath, Kal sputtered a little but held herself together. The inside was filled racks upon racks of armour of varieties that boggled Anton's mind. Steel, Bosciycium, Chelium, a white metal that he guessed to be Adamantium, filled his vision. There were many different types of leather armour amongst them, the grain and colour different between each one. This appeared to be the perfect place to start shopping.

Several people were perusing through the impressive collection, doing their utmost to spot any flaw or imperfection.

How are all these here and no one is stealing one? I didn't see any guards at the door...A magical device? I wonder if I'll find out?

Near the back stood a counter, a large man behind it with four equally large armoured men standing in front. On the counter lay four white swords made from the presumed Adamantium.

"I guess that's a start." Anton said as he began walking towards the counter. "Hopefully they'll be able to help us out. If you see something you like keep note of it."

They scanned the cramped racks, Anton saw a few things that looked interesting. He didn't want any metal armour that would weigh him down and impede his movement. He wasn't sure about what the two girls were taking note of but he trusted they would pick something that suited their fighting style.

"That'll be two gold and five hundred silver for each sword, so that's ten gold coins in total." A flat but authoritative voice came from behind the counter. Anton saw through the armoured backs of the four men that they were not happy with the price.

"That's a fuckin' rip off and you fuckin' know it." one of the armoured men said back. "Especially someone with your type of hands touched it."

Are we going to have a repeat of what happened in Maxill? And what does he mean by hands? His hands seem fine. Or does it have something to do with the man himself?

The man at the counter tried his best to hide his sigh. "Adamantium is a very rare metal, there's only one mine that the kingdoms and empires can get it from. And It's not in Graterious. It's also difficult to work and quite dangerous from the amount of heat needed to make anything from it. So, that's the price. If you don't like it you can find somewhere else. Just be careful that someone hasn't just got a crappy bit of Iron and painted it white."

Anton stopped at the end of the racks and made sure that Verona and Kal weren't blocking the way. He had a sinking feeling that things might turn violent. The counter man glanced at them but instantly turned his attention to the four armoured men. Two glanced at each other, Anton saw the look in their eyes and pushed Verona and Kal further out of the away, and darted for the blades. The counter man was quick, drawing a dagger from seemingly nowhere and stabbing one of the men's hand. The blue blade pierced through the chain mail and leather glove and dug into the wood below. A terrifying scream erupted from his mouth as he desperately tried to wrench his hand free. His companions shared no apparent love for him as they grabbed the swords and ran to the door with their loot. When they saw Anton, Verona and Kal in the closest escape rout it only took a single step before they made up their mind. They didn't know who they were, they might have been no one or they could have been someone very wealthy and connected, or they might try to delay them, so they darted either side and down the racks. Armour and weapons were knocked loose as they tumbled through the tight passageways.

Verona pulled a face at Anton while Kal, he was sure, was a little bemused by them. Anton glanced at the counter man. He didn't seem to worried. His attention was still focused on the man still pinned to the table.

The men neared the door, their hands reached for the handle, and their bodies burst with lightning. All three men fell to the floor in a moaning and slowly twitching heap. The stolen swords clanged loudly on the ground while the other customers were stunned and utterly hesitant to approach.

"Idiots." The counter man said to the still whimpering thief. "Did you think that some place like this could make money in Porswea without having protection of some kind against thieves? Especially dumb ones like you."

"Fuck you! My fuckin' hand!"

"That's the least of your problems now. Thief."

The thief screamed as he tried to wrench his hand free, the counter man had embedded the blue blade quite securely to the wood. The counter man quickly grew tired of the mans pitiful attempts to free himself so he stuck him over the head with a hammer. With a loud crack the man fell silent and still. However he did seemed to be alive.

With the situation seemingly dealt with Anton tentatively approached the counter, Verona by his side and Kal a little bit behind. The counter man saw him approach and shook his head.

"Johnny?" He yelled an the open door leading behind the counter. "I need you out here."

"Really? This little thing?" The voice was male but very effeminate, to the point where it belonged in a bad parody of how gay men spoke. “Just after what I heard?”

The counter man shook his head. "Yes. Just get out here."

A series of quick steps came towards them. A rather ordinary, relatively slim, man appeared. Then he spoke. "Oh. Has another bunch of thugs tried to hurt you?" Johnny, if that was Johnny, said to the counter man.

He sighed and nodded to the mess littering the floor, and the four downed men. "I'm afraid so. This one, and three more at the door, tried to steal four Adamantium swords."

Johnny gasped, both hands covering his mouth dramatically as he looked to the unconscious man.

"Well, that's what he gets from trying to steal from my Fergus." Johnny looked towards the rows filled with knocked over pieces of armour and sighed. The dramatic voice ceased the moment he saw them. He knew that would involve a lot of work to get them back on the racks. "Right. Well, I'll go get someone from the city watch to deal with these four idiots then I'll be back to help clean up."

As Johnny stepped around the unconscious thief his eyes turned to Anton. "They...They weren't a part of this?"

Fergus shook his head. "Nope. They just got here and stayed out of the way."

Johnny sighed. "If only it was that easy for the rest of us. I'll be back soon."

He turned and gave Fergus a little wave, one which was returned, and made for the door. Anton saw him pick up the Adamantium blades but did not receive the blast of lightning. He did, however, slide them away from the door with his foot before picking them up and placing them upon a nearby wooden container.

"So." Fergus looked up as the door chimed with Johnny's passing. "Since it's going to be a while before he's back, how can I help you?"

"Is that common?" Verona asked as they approached the counter. "Even though you've got that lightning thing?"

Fergus nodded. "Every now and again someone tries. There's more than enough fools in this city for someone to try. That and travellers from nearby cities that want to try their luck."

I'm curious how it works but I don't think that he'll just tell me. I'm certain that the shops on Earth would kill for something like that, even if the law says it would be too brutal. They are still alive though...

"Seems to be." Anton said as he inspected the thief pinned at the counter. His armour appeared to be pretty strong and in good condition. The sword at his side, while made from steel, looked pretty good as well. It must have been greed that convinced them to try and steal the Adamantium swords. And now they were going to be arrested.

"My companions and I are looking for better armour." Anton began. "And you're the first store we've come across."

Fergus looked them over. His eyes questioned Kal's mask and Verona's silver hair for a moment before he shrugged.

"So long as you've got the money we're happy to help." Fergus folded his massive muscled arms. They were only a little smaller than Jonathan's. "I don't have time for time wasters."

"I can understand that." Anton reached into a concealed purse as he looked back at the disorganised racks with their spilled contents. "How much do you think three full armour sets cost?"

"Depends what you're after. If you want the really rare stuff it be one to two gold coins for the each of you. I think you overheard how expensive these swords are. And there are more expensive things in here."

"You must have this place built like a fortress." Anton said as he removed three gold coins. "I think this will prove that we aren't joking."

Fergus frowned as he looked at the gold coins laid in front of him. He regarded them with suspicion as he picked them up and held them close to his eye. Eventually he appeared satisfied they were genuine and handed them back.

"I don't know where three people dressed like you are now got this much-"

"We didn't steal it." Verona pouted a little. "If that's what you mean?"

His eyes rested on Verona's silver hair for some time.

"No. But I don't want to be involved with some sort of crime or scam. I've got enough trouble as it is."

"From these idiots or something else?" Anton asked.

Fergus's eyes narrowed and he refused to answer. Anton guessed it had to do with Johnny, and whatever sort of relationship they shared. Humans are not the most tolerant of species and with their choices of partners. It didn't matter to him, Avery was gay and he didn't have a problem with him or his ability. For some reason it mattered to quite a few people, though these four might have just wanted some cheaper gear and were going to use sexuality to get a better deal.

Fergus shook his head light and slapped his large hands together. "So. What will it be?"

"We're after something light, strong and easy to move about in." Anton glanced back the nods from both girls. "Nothing garish and loud. So probably nothing with heavy metal. Oh, and a new cloak for Kal."

Fergus looked at Kal's mask. "Hmm. I don't think you'll want any more attention than you two women are getting already."

Verona ran her fingers through her loose silver pony tail. "I always liked my hair. It's only causing us trouble now. I'm not going bald to stop getting attention."

Also the red glyph marks extend to your skull. That might make them even more suspicious of you.

"You're not a Clanswomen?" Fergus asked.

"No. I think that I'm one of their descendants." Verona looked up at each of them. "They could have given me their height. Anyway, I think we'll need a cloak for all three of us actually. Do you have something like that?"

Fergus nodded. "I do. But first let's get some proper armour for you then worry about those." Fergus took the Adamantium blade and stored it behind the counter. As he moved closer to them he frowned as he looked at Anton's chest. "Where did you get that armour?"

"Is it that bad?"

"It's alright, for someone living on the fringes, but how do you have that much money and still wear that?" Anton said nothing and stared back. Finally Fergus shrugged. "It doesn't really matter I suppose. That's why you're here now."

"Indeed it is."

Fergus smiled lightly and moved from behind the counter to the far right of the shop, well past the armour racks they passed to enter. There were many more armour racks in that direction as well. The shop was a lot bigger than Anton first realised, seemingly it contained the next building with the wall knocked through. He stopped in front of a rack with dozens of sets of hardened leather armour. What Anton knew was none of them were made from a cow or an Ix, some other exotic creature. The colours and grains were all of different colours and types.

"I was thinking these, to start." Fergus began. "These are at the top end of the leather armours we have available. You said you didn't want metal armour..."

"It's too bright." Kal said as they approached. "The light bounces off the metal and gives you away. And it's too loud and limits movement."

Fergus nodded. "That's one of the reasons why many people pick leather armour over metal, especially bandits...So, anything here take your fancy? We have this whole row for you to look through."

Verona's eyes caught something as she looked down the rows of armour. She stopped in front of a full set of a dark grey leather armour set. From the joints of the armour, like where the chest piece met the legs, a soft white fur stuck out an for inch, far more around the neck. It rested on a stand and appeared to contain everything other than a helmet.

"What's this one?" Verona asked, running her hand over the surface of the leather. "It feels really fine."

"It's a full hide armour, without a helmet." Fergus began. "Made from the hide of a Grey Emperor Wyrm. Very, very strong hide. They only live in the north of the Bebbezar Kingdom so its had to travel some distance. It'll stop just about any steel sword or arrow, though if you get shot by a crossbow up close you'll probably be in trouble. Probably not a puncture but definitely some deep bruises, maybe a few broken bones."

Verona nodded and looked back at Anton. "I seem to recall you saying something about me not ever wearing something made from the hide of a Dragon Emperor." She smiled sweetly at him. "I know what I'm getting. How did they bring it down?"

"I believe they had to take out its eyes first, then they can kill it safely." Verona nodded but didn't reply to Fergus's words. "You'll also see the white fur sticking out of the armour pieces? That's Winter Wolf fur, so it's really soft. The inside of the Wyrm hide would rub against your skin and rub it raw before the day was done. Even if you were just breathing. It also keeps you at a consistent temperature, so it'll be hard to overheat while wearing it."

"That sounds good. Now..." Verona clapped her hands together and pointed them towards Fergus. "I have certain...Problems, two of them in fact, that this armour currently helps me deal with."

Fergus nodded. "That's not my area of expertise. When Johnny gets back I'll have you discuss it with him. He knows fabrics and those sort of things better than me."

"Okay. I'll take it then." Verona glanced back at Anton. The face she pulled was identical to a pleading puppy. Anton smiled and nodded.

"Yes!" Verona exclaimed. "How much is it?"

"All of them, and that is without a helmet, will cost two gold and two hundred silver."

Verona choked at the price, and Kal swore under her breath. Anton was stunned by the price, though the Adamantium blades should have warned him of what to expect.

"How do you have something so expensive just sitting around?" Anton asked after he recovered from his brief shock.

Fergus smiled. "Things like this do sell pretty quickly. Usually a rich Lord or merchant wants to equip some of their soldiers with the best equipment that can be bought. Some of them have more money than sense. They like to show off to their friends. I encourage it, in fact."

Walking around with that on would definitely attract a lot of attention. Bad people might think that we've got a lot more money on us. Which we do. But if we have the cloaks over us it'll be hidden.

"Alright." Anton said. "We'll definitely need a cloak to hide it, just in case some one gets some ideas."

"We'll also need that helmet later too." Verona mumbled. "I don't want to be struck in the head with a rock or an arrow. It all just seems a little bit...Big, for me."

"I'll have Johnny get some measurements and get it adjusted as soon as possible. Might take a day to get it done."

"That's alright." Verona replied. "Right. I've got mine. What about you two?"

Fergus looked over Anton's shoulder. Kal had taken a few steps back and was looking intently, at least he was sure she was, between several different pieces on the far side. Kal, upon noticing that everyone was looking at her, pointed at the pieces.

"It doesn't matter if they're not in one set, does it?"

"No. People need replacements all the time. What has caught your...eye?"

Kal pointed to a sandy coloured leather chest, a darker band over the front at breast height. It was an extra piece of leather armour that had been fastened on. She also pointed at a pair of dark brown pants, with pads of thick hide covering the vulnerable sections, and a leather shirt that appeared to go with the chest piece, and had the same patches of leather over vulnerable sections. She also pointed at a pair of thick black leather gloves, and two dark brown boots that reached to halfway up her calf. Those boots would need some work to make them right for her feet but the size was basically right.

"Okay... Okay." Fergus held his chin and scratched it with one finger. "Do you use a bow?"

Kal nodded.

"I thought you might. The extra piece of armour protects the chest from the release of a bow. Far more important for a woman not to get hit there, so I am told."

"They seem about my size." Kal mumbled as she touched the chest piece. "I'll make any adjustments myself."

Fergus raised a brow. "Are you sure? We include it in the price.”

Kal looked at Anton, then down at the floor. "It...depends on where the measurements are taken."

"We have women customers and they are perfectly fine with Johnny."

"Because he's..." Verona trailed off at the end.

Fergus nodded. "Yes...yes. His interest in women is..."

Everyone fell silent as an awkwardness filled the vacuum. Anton doubted that homosexuals were treated well in Graterious. They weren't treated that well back on Earth. Fergus realised the silence was not going to be good for his business, so he continued as best he could.

"We'll get those worked out for you." Fergus said to Kal. "And what about you?" He asked as he turned to Anton. "Have you spotted anything that takes your fancy?"

"Not...Not really." Anton replied. "Verona and Kal know how they fight and picked theirs accordingly. I..."

"Okay. I presume that you are mercenaries of some kind, so...How do you fight?"

"Magic."

"Magic?" Fergus looked him over. Once again the relative cheapness of their clothing was acting as a severe detriment to their cause. "That would explain the money, and I've met a few mages in my time, but most of them are a bunch of c-."

Before Fergus could finish his obvious swear the door bell rang as someone entered the store. Fergus moved to check, in case a thief actually managed to get away with their loot, and smiled as he saw Johnny with six Graterious soldiers following close behind. Anton recognised one, he was the same man that stopped them as they entered the city. And the same one that was leering at his women. There must be some sort of rotation in the Graterious guards.

"Here they are." Johnny spoke in his overly effeminate voice. "Scoundrels that wanted to steal Fergus's hard work."

The Graterious soldier looked down at the thieves who were only just starting to recover consciousness. He shook his head and waved the other soldiers forward.

"I'll never understand why these idiots try this shit." He knelt down and rummaged through their pants, bringing out a small coin purse. Several silver and copper coins and plates poured out.

"They're hardly poor." He jangled the money in his hand. "Look at all this shit they've got."

"They tried to steal four Adamantium swords. Good forged ones too."

"Ah. That would explain it." The soldier shook his head. "People can go just as crazy for that white stuff as they would for gold." He took all four coin purses as the theives were assembled near the door.

"What's going to happen to them?" Verona asked Fergus. "Do they loose a hand or what?"

The soldier and Johnny looked up at the noise. The soldier squinted at them before it dawned over him who they were. This time he kept a more professional attitude then before.

"I'm pretty sure I told you lot to stay out of trouble."

"We are." Anton replied. "We aren't involved in this."

"So what's going to happen to them?" Verona asked.

The soldier rolled up the sleeve of one of the thieves and tutted. He held up the mans wrist, a circle had been branded into the skin. He checked the other three before he sighed and shook his head.

"Bastards aren't just thieves. They're from Tullas Mad Eye's gang. Cassius won't be glad to here about this. What the fuck are they doing here?"

That gang that Virgil is hunting really is everywhere. Pretty stupid for them to try this though. Being a bandit doesn't meant that they're smart. Either you're very or not at all.

"Normally they would be sent to the mines or hard labour for the rest of their lives, but that's not happening with these four. They'll come back with us so we can have a nice long chat."

They didn't need a further explanation. Four more soldiers entered and hauled the stunned theives away, leaving the Graterious soldier next to Johnny. He handed over two of the coin purses. They sounded relatively heavy as they fell into his hand.

"Here's your portion. For your trouble."

Johnny appeared hesitant to accept but eventually did. The soldier gave them all a quick nod before following his other soldiers. With a chime the door closed and they were all gone.

"That was a lot easier than I expected." Johnny shrugged as he walked towards them, he held the two coin purses in his hand like they were about to explode. "We've even made a little bit of money off them."

When he was close enough he tossed the purses to Fergus.

"So..." Johnny spoke with a teasing voice. "What's been happening while I've been away?"

Fergus weighed the purse in his hand. "Not that much. We've got two of them sorted, they'll need some adjustments, and we're still working on the last one."

"That's good." Johnny looked straight at Anton. "So, what are you looking for?"

"He said he uses magic." Fergus interrupted before Anton could get a noise out. "And that got me a little confused."

Johnny frowned and looked him over, even peering around his backside. "You? A mage? From the academy?"

"Are they that bad?" Anton asked.

"No... Not all of them." Johnny replied. "But most of them are..."

"Just spoiled little brats?"

"Basically."

"Can't wait to meet them." Anton mumbled. "What I'm looking for is something that'll keep me safe and doesn't interfere with my magic."

"That's easy enough for us. But we don't have anything that will enhance your magic...The academy keeps all that stuff to themselves."

Verona chuckled and looked up at him. "I don't think you need to have any more magic. You'll probably just pop."

Fergus and Johnny looked at one another before shrugging. It didn't matter to them if Anton was crazy or overconfident with his magical prowess. All that really mattered was his coin.

Fergus started walking towards the entrance. "I was thinking something to keep arrows and bolts out of you, as well as an assassins blade. If you're a mage then you shouldn't be fighting against swords or spears. If you are then something's going wrong."

Johnny looked at Verona and Kal. He clearly wanted to say something but held his tongue. Fergus stopped at the beginning of the rack and waved them over. He stared at a set of a black and grey leather and woven armour. It looked a little similar to the pants that Kal had chosen, these too had thicker sections of leather had been added to the vulnerable locations. Overall it looked very strong.

"This armour set has a toughened cloth made from Brackenlace, so it's a lot stronger what you're currently wearing. Also quite a few sections of Grey Wyrm leather for extra protection."

Anton looked back down the rows. Nothing else caught his attention. They also didn't have all day to spend shopping in this one building. They had quite a few things to do before they stopped for the night.

"Alright." Anton nodded. "I'll take it. There'll have to be some measurements to make sure it fits."

Johnny clapped his hands together. "That's where I come in. If you three would follow me I'll get your measurements while Fergus brings them over and we get some money sorted out."

Johnny threw Fergus a look, to which he gave a nearly imperceptible nod. They certainly wouldn't want their time wasted.

"You also haven't chosen any helmets or cloaks." Fergus said after them as they were being led away. "Just something something to keep in mind."

"I think we'll get them tomorrow." Anton replied. "We've still got a few more things to get done today."

"It will take a little bit to get them to the right size." Johnny replied. "You can't just use steel tools to get it done, so it's going to take some time."

He led them past the counter and to the room behind. Anton heard further clinking of metal from the armour racks as they passed. Anton spied a young man putting the spilled pieces of armour back onto the racks. It seemed there was someone else working here. The back room was a little crowded of miscellaneous items. There clearly wasn't a forge here so the work must not done somewhere else, somewhere an expensive metal like Adamantium could be worked safely and away from prying eyes. Johnny retrieved a measuring tape, made from a very flexible leather.

Johnny waved for Anton to raise his arms and he moved close. "I'm just going to get your measurements so we can make this fit. All three of you."

As he wrapped the tape around his arm Anton looked straight at him. "Don't go putting your hands anywhere near Kal unless I say so."

Johnny looked up and nodded. Nobody would want an angry mage breathing down their neck. Johnny quickly took the measurements of himself and Verona, and making a brief compliment about the size of her bust, and then moved to Kal. Kal, with her white and green mask, looked straight at him. Anton could tell that she was very nervous about being touched. If her secret got out...

"How... How about I do it?" Anton asked.

Johnny nodded and handed the tape to him. Kal whispered a thanks as Anton read out the measurements. With that done Johnny took back the tape. He checked the values and nodded.

"These won't take too long to adjust. Removing sections isn't the problem, adding them is."

"How long are we talking?"

"It'll be ready first thing in the morning."

"I didn't think it could be done that quick. That'll be great." Anton gave him a small nod. "We'll cough up the coins then be on our way. When we come by in the morning we'll get the helmets and cloaks. Just something that's good and fits.”

“We've got some good ones.” Johnny said. “They're made from some aged Brackenlace so it'll be very strong. Very strong even though it looks quite worn. You'll just look like another traveller while still being able to fend off knife attacks. And the weather.”

Anton nodded. It all sounded very good. Now it was just a matter of how much it would cost. They moved back to the counter as Fergus passed them carrying the pieces of armour in one great stack. Despite the weight the large man wasn't having any trouble.

"Are you the one that makes the armour and weapons here?" Anton asked.

Fergus made a noise as he placed the armour onto a table in the back room. He returned, brushing a smattering of dust off his hands.

"I do. I do quite a bit of this. I have forged Adamantium before, but not here. We can only do that in the Empires' Forges and I can't get into those. Though I'm sure the Dwarves could easily do it."

Anton had heard of Dwarves being in this world before though he had yet to see one. Perhaps they would be classed a non-human that wouldn't be attacked or put in chains, especially if they could be classed as small and wide humans with tremendous beards. If his image of them matched the reality here.

"Any of them in Porswea?"

Fergus shook his head as Johnny moved behind him with a sheet of rough paper. "Not since I was a boy. And that was a long time ago."

"Not that long ago." Johnny cheekily smiled back.

"Shame." Anton said as he reached into one of the hidden coin pouches. "I would have like to have met one. See what they're like."

"Well, they aren't dead or wiped out." Fergus continued. "So they're still around. They're still living happily on their isles, last thing I heard. Though it's a long journey if you want to get there."

"How far are we talking?" Anton asked as he removed a small handful of gold coins.

"From here you'd have to travel through Seocuria, then Bebbezar, take a boat past The Conflagration and land on the north of the Mycenaean City States. Then head to the south of the City States, get on another boat and reach the south of the Holy Kingsland, a brief stop on the Frindal Emerate and then a long boat trip to the Dwarven Isles."

"Well how long does that take?" Verona asked, the exasperation clear in her voice. Anton felt the same way.

Fergus scratched his chin. "If...If you were to leave now, near the end of summer, you could be there by...provided you don't get killed by bandits or goblins or the like, by...the middle of spring."

Two sets of hands gripped onto Anton's arms. Verona was looking at him very worried and Kal's hand held him very tight, her true emotion hidden by the mask but he could feel that she was more than worried. Did they think that he was going to set off on an adventure right away?

"We aren't going there." Verona spoke adamantly. "That's way too far. Not when we...No."

Kal nodded as Anton gave both of their hands a squeeze. "No, we won't be even trying to go there any time soon."

"The only other way, if it's still possible, is to head through the ruins of the Kar Kingdom then through the Wood Elven Orthanos Kingdom and take one of their boats to the Dwarven Isles. They use their magic to make the boats a lot stronger to survive the dangerous waters of the deep oceans. But you can't go through the Kar Kingdom now."

Anton nodded. "Full of nasty beasts and monsters."

"That it is. So, you can't head that way. That only leaves you the long way."

A bunch of goblins doesn't worry me too much, though we can't go that way for other, more dangerous, reasons.

Johnny clapped his hands. "I hate to be the one to break your conversation up but we require payment."

"Right." Both girls let Anton's arms go. "How much are we talking?"

Johnny looked over Anton's shoulder as he handed over the piece of paper. There were still a few people perusing the shop and a few were slowly making their way to the counter with pieces of metal and leather armour in their hands.

They might not want them to overhear how much money this is going to cost and have us pay up immediately, and have them know we have a lot of money on us. Or, since we still look pretty poor, don't want them to think they're trying to get rid of us with ridiculous prices because we look poor. Either way...

Anton looked at the price. Eight gold coins. He didn't know if it had been rounded up or down but that wasn't much of a problem for them. Verona and Kal peered around and neither offered any objections. Anton was pretty sure that Kal could read but he wasn't so sure about Verona. They did a little bit of studying when they were in Atros but then there were other, more important, things on their mind.

"Alright." Anton handed over the gold coins as discretely as he could. Fergus took and immediately hid them, giving Johnny a tiny nod.

"If you come back in the morning we'll have them ready for you." Johnny began. "Then you can get what ever else you need."

"Thanks." Anton glanced back, another group of customers were only a few meters away. "Since we're new to Porswea, where's the best place to get a map and some jewellery? Rings and the like?"

Anton felt Verona and Kal perk up at his words.

Johnny smiled wildly. "I know that the government controls things like detailed maps so unless you know someone really high up I don't think you'll be able to find one without being robbed. And I would hate to see that happen to the three of you. But for jewellery...Well, I would say that the best place would be Madam Higgins."

"They do have some nice stuff." Fergus nodded, deep in thought.

Johnny nodded as well. "So that would be the best, and safest place, to go."

"Alright. How..."

Johnny flushed slightly as he waved his arms in apology. "Sorry. I...out of here take a right. Once you get to one of the big plazas find a sign with the two golden rings on it and head that way. You're looking for a blue fronted shop with a large golden woman on the front."

"Thanks again. We'll see you tomorrow morning."

They turned and left as the next group approached carrying many armour sets. Hopefully they wouldn't end up like those thieves, spluttering and writhing on the floor before being taken away to who knows what terrible fate. Anton entwined his hands with Verona and Kal, both girls leaning into him, as they headed back outside into the busy streets.

---[]---

The plaza was even busier than before. It appeared to be some middle of the afternoon rush hour. People and horses were bustling and jostling for space as they swarmed through each other like a writhing mass of worms. This time Anton held their hands tight, and they held his tight in return. They found the jewellery sign hanging from the central pillar and followed it down yet another busy street. Again the traffic quickly petered out and this time the people became more wealthy. Far more wealthy.

These people were different to the soldiers and mercenaries they passed in the armoury district. Everyone was obviously wealthy, to some degree; finely made clothes, immaculate hair and skin, along with slaves or servants that followed the most wealthy among them. A few regarded Anton and his women as scum but kept their animosity towards their presence firmly on their faces. Strangely it was more often the women that regarded them harshly, most of the men did not appear to be able to care less about their presence. Anton paid them no attention.

Madam Higgins shop was not hard to find. All the shops and stores were garish to the some degree but this one stood out amongst all the others. The golden woman was a heavily stylised statue in an erotic and seductive pose with her rear was on display to everyone. Women stood outside wearing very little, their clothes designed to be as alluring and titillating as possible, all shouting to the passing crowds. To the passing men they sold the idea of impressing their woman and to the women they told them to use it to impress their husbands or boyfriends. It appeared to be working well as quite a number of people were entering and leaving the store.

Just as they were about to head towards the building Anton spotted the back of someone that he recognised. Virgil. He was alone, none of his Bandit Hunter friends were anywhere nearby, and his attentions were focused on a young woman outside the shop. Judging by her expression she was not interested but was too polite to send him away or call for help. The other women kept them within eyesight while they continued to ply their trade.

"She looks like she needs help." Verona spoke quietly to Anton's ear. "She doesn't look too happy that he's chatting to her."

"Let's go save someone then." Anton replied. They moved closer and Anton yelled out to Virgil. Virgil turned around to the source, puzzlement on his face, and the girl used the chance to escape. When Virgil recognised them a smile crept onto his face.

"Hello there." Virgil said as he approached. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you any time soon."

"Neither did we." Anton replied. "What do you think you were doing to that poor girl? Was Sancha not enough for you?"

Virgil chuckled as he glanced back. The young woman was nowhere to be seen.

"Haven't seen any of them since we separated. No idea what they're doing. Nor do I have any desire to stay with that girl other than a half decent fuck while we're on the road. I don't think she's entirely right in the head."

Verona scoffed. "With a mother like that what chance does she have?"

Virgil nodded. "I heard all about it, what happened. Wouldn't shut up about it. But enough of that crap about those crazy fuckers. What are you three up to?"

"Just doing some shopping." Anton replied, Verona smiled and pulled closer to his arm, Kal followed in response.

Virgil chuckled. "I see. Madam Higgins has got all the sort of jewellery you could want. And a few other, more private things..."

"Is that what you were trying to impress that girl with?" Verona asked. "Your knowledge of jewellery?"

Virgil laughed again. "No. But she'll come around. Just give her a few days."

"I really doubt that."

"What about you?" Anton asked. "Has Lord Cassius sent you back out to hunt more bandits?"

"Not yet. He's not in Porswea right now, which is a little odd, so I'm enjoying a few days to myself." Virgil raised a hand. "Before you ask, I have dropped your name...s and deeds to the local governor. Let's just say that he was a little...disbelieving of what I had to say. When everyone else said the same thing he changed his mind. I'm sure that people will soon be speaking to those Bebbezarian traders we travelled with before he makes up his mind. Not too hard to miss one of them here."

Anton wondered how they were doing; if they were doing alright, if they had fallen back to their old ways, if Cetina was doing better and Duran had changed permanently. He put those questions away for a later time.

"I was hoping that the governor might be able to help up secure a ship and crew." Anton began. "I don't think that many would rent or sell their ship to us. Not the size we for what need."

Virgil bit on his lower lip and allowed it to roll free. "No. They really wouldn't. And I thought you were mad before, but..." Virgil frowned in deep thought. "I might be able to help you out there. It'll take a few days before Lord Cassius gets back to Porswea, and when he does it'll be a little bit before he'll believe your story to be genuine, so I have an idea to help Graterious, Lord Cassius and yourselves all in one go."

"This should be interesting." Anton and Kal said simultaneously.

Virgil nodded. "After you're done here, head over to the mercenary recruitment district, You're looking for a chain surrounding a gold coin, and find the Graterious Mercenary Guild, those are the people that I work for."

"That's not the most original name I've ever heard. I heard there was another mercenary group called..." Anton glanced at Kal, who whispered the answer. "The Red Company."

Virgil scoffed, waving them down as he shook his head. "No way would I work for those idiots. Only the really desperate and stupid work for them. They spend their time guarding trading caravans mostly and protecting some poor lord, and running away if it looks like it'll be a tough fight. The people that I work with actually have some skill, and not just some copper coins they found on the ground after sucking it out of a passing drunk."

"Right...So, you were saying?"

"Yes. I've been told there's a really big job coming up which is no good for me, because I've just got back and I need a few days of not sleeping on the ground and grass, but you three will easily make short work of it with your skills."

Virgil kept glancing at Kal, a little worry in his face. He still believed that Kal had more terrifying powers than himself or Verona, because of the mask and how little she had fought at Soulthor.

"What's the job then?" Kal asked. "We can't stay here too long."

"You'll be supporting a Graterious Legion as it tries to retake a fortress a days ride north west from here. It's just been over run by a horde of Goblins and..." Virgil shrugged. "They need it back to help fend off the Deweth Clansmen, whenever they decide to attack. The fortress is vital for defence and distribution of resources and men, so they can get to forts that are starting to fall against the Clansmen. And, considering how easily you dealt with those Ghlotsm, I thought you would do really well there."

"If it's so strong then why did it fall?" Anton asked.

Virgil shrugged, hopelessly. "Oh, they didn't give up like some old Kar soldier. They took down tens of thousands but there were just tens of thousands more to replace them. No one has seen this many since... About two hundred winters ago, so I'm told. Everyone in the military is extremely concerned and they're hiring anyone who is willing to fight to help out. Which you three can do."

"We do this and we'll get to see Lord Cassius?" Anton asked.

"If you three do what I think you can do, even if you didn't want to see him, you would. Don't worry, I'll make sure you're well paid for your trouble. So long as you sign up with the Graterious Mercenary Guild."

"Sounds like you own it." Anton snidely pointed out.

Virgil smiled and slowly nodded, a big cheesy grin on his face. "I may own a part of it, yes."

"So you just want us to make some money?" Verona shook her head.

"There is that too." Virgil admitted. "But doing this is the fastest way you'll be able to get that boat you want. I know that Lord Cassius has quite a few, and he could afford to let go one of the older ones. Who you get as part of your crew is beyond me, but also not my problem." Virgil clapped his hands. "So, are you in?"

Anton looked at Verona and Kal. It was a little hard to gauge what their reaction was.

"We'll need to have a bit of a discussion about it first." Anton replied, Verona nodding in response. "But we will take your proposition seriously."

Virgil smiled and nodded. While Anton was sure that he would have preferred a yes, they hadn't given a no. It appeared to satisfy him for now.

"The Guild wants the numbers in by this afternoon. So, if you are interested, you'll have to get it done by then." Virgil smiled. "Well, I won't hold you up any more than I already have. You three have a good day."

Virgil gave a final nod before heading back into the crowd. A few seconds passed and he was gone.

Verona pulled on his sleeve. "What do you think about that? It might be worth looking into."

"If..." Kal began. "If it gets us to Seocuria and Danafra quickly, which it sounds like it might, I think we should do it." Kal started nodding furiously. "An extra few days here might make a lot of difference. And it'll make it much easier to get them back home. And a whole lot more of my...people."

"I was thinking along those lines too." Anton replied, giving Kal's hand a squeeze. "It'll get us there a lot faster and we might be able to make some powerful friends in the process." Verona smiled and Kal felt rather happy too. Anton looked at the golden woman in front of the store. "But first we've got this to deal with."

"Right." both girls replied at once.

They all took a deep breath before they entered the shop. The women outside paid them only a little attention now that it was clear they were heading inside. The inside of the shop was very well furbished, an immaculately maintained jewellery store. Again Anton was shocked at the wealth on display in this place. Dozens of large glass cabinets, adorned with gold trimmings, lay scattered throughout the room with more conservatively dressed women beside them. From the ceiling a series of large glowing crystals floated, just like those they saw in Duchess Belinda's mansion, covered everything in a light blue hue. Another group of people tried to enter so Anton pushed them all forward. Their boots crunched on the soft blue carpet as they began to wander about the store.

“What are we looking for?” Verona asked.

“Well...Rings.” Anton replied. “I'm not too fussed about price.”

None of the women tried to come towards them so Anton found a series of counters that looked like what they were looking for. Before he could get a good look at the items on display he heard a series of footsteps approaching. They sounded a little heavy.

"Hello there." a voice called from behind the glass counter. Anton looked up and unlike most of the women present, inside or outside the building, this woman was comparatively old. She kept herself in good shape, very few wrinkles and smooth skin, but age was only just starting to show through. It was quite difficult to guess her actual age though.

"Yes." Anton smiled towards the woman, Verona and Kal still marvelled at the copious amounts of wealth on casual display. "I...We were looking to buy some rings."

The woman smiled. "Then you have come to the right place." Her brown eyes looked them over. "If you have the money for it."

Hopefully these sort of questions won't be happening too more often.

Anton nodded. "That we do."

The woman smiled, a business smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Excellent." she clapped her hands together. "I am Madam Higgins, owner of this fine establishment."

"A pleasure to meet you." Anton replied. "We were told by a man called Fergus and a man called Johnny that you were the best in Porswea."

Madam Higgins flushed a little, a light chuckle escaping her lips. "Those boys are too nice for their own good. Still, I wont turn down any sort of business. And since you came from them that means that you probably aren't lying about money."

"Does that happen often?" Verona asked. "People wasting your time, or stealing stuff?"

Madam Higgins looked at Verona's silver hair for some time before the smile returned. Finally she weakly shrugged. "Sometimes. Though not that often. Not when they hang theives or send them to work in the mines."

Verona nodded. "So what sort of wedding rings do you have?"

She waved them towards the long display case, filled with hundreds upon hundreds of gold and silver rings, many more made from metals that covered the entire spectrum of the rainbow. The types of gems mounted on the top were even more diverse. Anton didn't want to think too much about how much wealth was right infront of him. Verona and Kal had the same idea.

"This is our main selection of wedding rings. Does anything take your fancy?"

Anton scanned the rings before looking at Verona. She smiled warmly. "What ever you pick, I know I will love it."

Anton glanced at Kal.

"I don't know that much about these things, but I trust your judgement. Besides." she gripped his hand tight. "It's because of what you said we're even here."

"I'll try to not let you two down." Anton said, Verona chuckling in response while Kal nodded once. He looked up at Madam Higgins, who had retained a neutral expression. It didn't matter to her what they were doing in their private lives so long as they had the money to pay for her goods.

Anton resumed scanning the display cabinet. Finally he found something that caught his eye, two rings very close to each other. One was made from silver and had a ruby gem mounted on the top. The other was a dark green metal with lighter swirls throughout with a white gem on top. Immediately he knew he had made his decision. It appeared that Madam Higgins had come to the same conclusion. She moved to where his eyes lingered for some time and opened the display cabinet from her side.

"I believe that these are the ones that interest you?" she waved her hand in their general direction.

"Yes. The silver and red, and the green and white one." Anton saw Verona very excited out the corner of his eye while Kal was equally happy, he was sure. The mask muted some of her emotions.

Madam Higgins smiled and retrieved the rings. Anton was now wondering how much these were going to cost.

"A fine choice." she smiled and clapped her hands. "That will be-"

"Hang on." Verona threw up a hand. "It's not fair that we get one and you don't. You made a decision for us, so now it's time for us to do it for you."

Verona waved Anton away while pulling Kal towards her. Anton took a few paces to the side and let the whisper in private. Madam Higgins did the same thing. As the seconds dragged on in silence Anton started to feel rather awkward just standing there and watching them make a decision. It took some time but Verona started bouncing and tapping on the glass.

"Got it." Verona said, tapping furiously on the glass case. Underneath her finger lay a ring made from a black metal with white waves running through it. There was no gem on the top but it still looked expensive.

"Excellent choice." Madam Higgins said as she removed the ring.

Verona smiled as she turned to him. "I don't think you wanted to wear all those rings on one finger. It'll get it too heavy. And I think this one looks really good too."

Kal nodded to Verona's words.

"It would have only been two rings."

"Yeah...Yeah." Verona looked off into the distance, the hint of a wicked smile drew on the corner of her face. He had seen this before. It didn't make him worried but it made him curious as to what she was planning. Verona clapped her hands. "Anyway, that stuff can wait until later. Right now we need to pay for these things."

Anton looked at Madam Higgins, who returned a smile. "Since you three seem very much in love, I'll let these go for five gold coins and five silver rings. These are made from very rare metals and very hard to get them in Porswea."

Anton reached into one of the hidden purses. He had not gone through one yet, and Verona and Kal had a few hidden on them as well. They would not be poor just yet. When he brought out four gold coins Madam Higgins eyes flickered with something before it disappeared. She took the coins and gave Anton the change and the rings. They felt extremely heavy in his hands, though extremely warm. He wanted to see them on the girls fingers right away.

"I hope that you three find happiness."

Anton looked at the rings, then back up to her. "We will. I know we will. Have a good day."

She gave them a polite wave as another person moved to the counter. This person looked especially rich, and rude, judging by the way he looked down upon their very presence. And the throng of servants and slaves behind him, all keeping their heads low, only added to his dreadful image. He sneered at everyone while Anton could only sigh at the sight. He had no intention of staying any longer than he needed to.

"Come on. Let's go." Anton held them tight as he led them out of the store and into the street, avoiding all contact with the deeming man. The moment they were free Verona started bouncing infront of him.

"Can we have them now?" her words were almost a plead, they sounded so desperate.

Anton relented and took Verona's left hand. She looked at him a little quizzically, he hadn't told her what was done on Earth, and gently slipped the ring onto her finger. Bizarrely it was almost the right size. When it was on Verona retracted her hand and held it close to her chest. She held it close for some time before she brought it up and looked closely at it, her hand just inches from her face. A smile crept onto her face as a tear trickled down her face, quickly brushed aside. She coughed to steady herself and looked at Anton.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." she spoke in barely a whisper. "I'm never letting this go. Never."

She flushed a little more before shaking her head and looking intently at Kal. Anton turned as well.

"Now, Kal, this might be a little difficult..."

"We can do it when we get back to the Inn." Kal's voice carried a tiny note of disappointment which she tried desperately to hide. "I can-"

"Nope." Anton and Verona said simultaneously.

"But... Here?"

Anton nodded as he moved forward and held Kal's left hand, leading her and Verona away from the main thoroughfare and to the side of a plain looking building. Virtually no one looked at them now. Anton moved to block their vision, held Kal's hand up and began to pick at the tightly wound cloth wrappings. Kal quickly understood and took over, mumbling a small apology for how tightly they had been bound. Finally a finger, the same finger that Verona's ring lay on, was freed to the light. He felt her nervousness and promised himself to do it quickly.

The green and white ring slid onto her finger, but it was a little tight. Kal's fingers were a little longer than a humans, and a little thicker, especially with the short green fur and pads on the underside. It didn't go all the way but made it to the second knuckle before he could feel that going any further would bring her pain. He let go of her hand. Kal's first instinct was to cover it again but she held back for a moment. She stared at the ring for some time, while the other two kept a look out for anyone getting too close. Kal quickly wrapped the finger, thought there was a certain happiness, almost giddiness, to her actions. When she was done, giving one last pull to make sure it wasn't going to come off, she looked straight at him.

"Thank you. I...Again. I never thought anything like this would ever happen to someone like me. I'll always treasure this, and what it means. I'm not going to let this go."

"Maybe we could get Jonathan to make it a little bigger?" Verona said as she held up her own. "I think it's meant to go here rather than where you've got it."

Kal nodded and placed her right hand over the ring. "I might have an idea about that. And a good chance to test out my prayer power." She cleared her throat and began speaking in a tiny whisper. "Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, I ask that you make this ring large enough to fully slide over my finger."

It was almost impossible for Anton to tell if Kal actually used her magic or how much but, judging by the deep breath that immediately followed the prayer, it appeared to work. Kal wiggled the ring, through her wrappings, over her knuckle and to the base of her finger.

"Thank you, Tethra." Kal said softly. "For everything you continue to give me."

"We've still got one more ring to give out." Verona smiled wildly. She opened her hand and Anton gave her the ring. She smiled and motioned for him to hold out his left hand, quickly sliding on the ring. The black ring on his finger felt very cold, and heavy. As the seconds passed it began to warm through his skin. He felt his face heat up as he looked at it. He was married, to two beautiful and loving women. Being married to one woman seemed a little far fetched. Two was just fanciful. Anton, without warning, brought them both into a big hug. Both squeaked in surprise as they were slightly crushed in his arms before they returned the hug.

"What we just did doesn't count as our wedding." Anton said as he parted, keeping one hand on their waists. "We'll have a proper one when we get back home. I just wanted to do this the second I had them."

Verona pulled him down and kissed his cheek, Kal took his hand and held it tight.

"So, um..." Anton stammered to try and find the right words. "Ah, my new wives, shall we go discover what Virgil was on about?"

Anton felt really awkward using that word. He had not thought that he would be able to call someone his wife, let alone the word wives. Verona laughed and smiled, holding his right arm and twisting it around her waist and entwining her hand through his. Kal hesitated for only a second before copying her. Anton felt the heat returning to his face as both pressed their bodies into him. He coughed and nodded the direction they came, moving back into the crowds. He kept them close as they headed towards the location of the Graterious Mercenary Guild, unaware of the pairs of eyes following them from the shadows.

Chapter 082. Vol 3 - Meaty Kebabs

Chapter 082. Vol 3 - Meaty Kebabs:

It took some time before Anton found the Graterious Mercenary Guild, even with Verona and Kal's heads bobbing wildly about searching desperately alongside him. They followed Virgil's directions but it still took them asking the seller of, what appeared to be, Porswea's answer to Earth's fast food. The small store, located outside a larger building that appeared to be a home for the relatively poor of Porswea, sold a sort of kebab, with layers of an unknown types of meat with cooked pieces of vegetables on a thin wooden stick. The owner wasn't very helpful until they bought one, which Verona devoured in a matter of seconds, but then he gave them directions. Anton wasn't worried about the cost of the information, it was nothing compared to what they had on them.

They found the building situated in another large plaza, a ring of large buildings forming part of the defining edge of the plaza. The people walking the streets changed every time they arrived at a new area in Porswea. Now the people looked very similar to those near the armoury district. Armoured men and women soldiers roamed about the stone streets. It made sense for all those well armed and armoured people to gather here, where they could find employment with one of the many mercenary guilds Porswea had to offer. While most of the buildings, all with a board with the golden coin surrounded by iron chains, appeared non-descript one caught his attention immediately.

Red. A bright red building, in the midst of the more conservative colours, drew everyone's attention. Quite a few people roamed out the front as many people were entering and exiting. These looked nothing like the other mercenaries walking around them. Those people were scraggly and dirty, their weapons and armour were old and kept in poor condition. They hurled abuse at each other and at passers by. Many had red faces and trouble standing straight. They didn't look like a guild of professional fighters and mercenaries, rather a motley crew of bandits that had been, somewhat, colour coordinated.

Anton nodded towards the red building as he squeezed Kal's side. "I know that you haven't been to many cities before, but is that the Red Company?"

Kal nodded. "Yeah. They're the people that had the...drawing."

"That's no good." Verona grumbled. "Thankfully we aren't going there. We're heading to that one."

Verona pointed to a building nearly opposite that of the Red Company. It was the same shape and size but lacked the garish red. Instead, more of a soft grey. The people outside looked a lot more professional and better equipped. Anton shrugged and moved them through the crowds, keeping both very close, towards the building.

What Anton had not yet seen in Porswea were any mages. He had been told they wore garish and bright robes but he hadn't seen one through the streets and none in the mercenary district. A mercenary guild or company would probably pay big to have them on their side, yet he couldn't see any. Perhaps the government could pay even more than the mercenaries could, or fighting for money was beneath them. Duchess Belinda was the only mage he had met so far and she was, by her own admission, not a very powerful mage. Regardless he didn't want to fight her. He didn't want to fight even a middling mage before learning a few more ways to use his magic. He couldn't block a bolt or arrow with his magic yet and relied on destroying the enemy before they could get him. He had no idea if he would be killed in a few seconds with a battle with an actual mage or if he could block their magic with his. The different forms of magic that he could use were quite limited and chances to experiment were few and far between, the consequences of being caught without any mana would be catastrophic. As it stood currently he was quite vulnerable.

The men and women posted outside the mercenary building barely gave them a glance as they entered. Once inside a different smell filled his nose. Gone was the smell of too many unwashed bodies and the general stench of humanity, replaced by the smell of beer and cooking food. The Graterious Mercenary Guild, on the inside, looked more like a pub than a place were fighters would gather. Hundreds of people sat a dozens of large wooden tables. There appeared to be no distinction between men and women, or even from the colour of their skin as they ate, laughed and drank. A whole range of skin tones were on display, from as light as Verona to some darker than the Seocurian body that Kal showed them. Most were eating some sort of food, almost all had some sort of mug in their hand. Judging from the look in their eyes it was some sort of alcohol, a lot of stronger than beer. As the smells of food filled his nose his stomach began to rumble. They were chatting and laughing like a roaring party, it seemed a strange place to find such diversity and acceptance. The more he thought about it the more the setup made sense.

"I...I didn't know what to expect." Verona mumbled as she gently freed herself from Anton's hand. "I suppose this is alright."

"The Red Company is like a drunk house compared to this." Kal said softly. “I never went near one but I could always here them from miles away. Same with the mercenaries themselves. They're pretty easy to find, even when they're in the wilds.”

They moved to the side so they were not obscuring the entrance, a mumbled thanks of a passing mercenary.

"Where do we go?" Verona asked aloud.

The main area was filled with the mercenaries happily eating and drinking. To one side sat a flight of stairs, leading somewhere to a level above. That didn't appear to be the right place. Directly infront of them was something akin to the counter in the armour shop except this was built into the far wall. A pair of nearly identical twins stood on the other side and were dealing with a long line of armoured mercenaries. The twins wore the same clothes, a tight fitting grey and blue shirt, that contrasted heavily against their short blonde hair, with some pleated cuffs on their wrists. Everything below the waist was obscured but he was sure those clothes were the same colour and style too.

"Pretty sure that's where we need to go." Anton said as they were already moving towards the lines of waiting mercenaries.

They moved through the crowds of seated mercenaries, barely receiving more than a second glance that was mainly directed at Verona's silver hair, and stood at the end of the line. Over a minute passed and they did not move an inch forward. Verona quickly became agitated while Kal stood motionless. When he focused on Kal he could hear the tiniest whisper of her mantra being repeated over and over again. He gently held her hand which calmed her a little.

Finally they moved, but only a single person forward. Verona looked around the line and grumbled. "There's...twelve more people before we reach the front. This is going to take ages."

Anton peered around and nodded. "I know. But we don't have that much of a choice if we want to get there soon."

Verona smiled but he felt her irritation. He held her hand as well. Verona said nothing more but picked idly at his finger nails. Another few minutes passed in relative peace. A few more people joined the line behind them who quickly shared Verona's level of growing impatience.

This must be related to that big job Virgil was talking about. Everyone will be wanting to get in on it, and the guild would need to make sure they're good enough and not just going to be a drain on their business.

Anton looked down at their clothes, and then to the mercenaries around them. Compared to those around them they looked like a bunch of countryside hicks. None had paid them any real attention, for better or for worse.

I just know they're going to bring up the clothes thing again. And they should too. How are they supposed to know that we can do what we do just by looking at us?

Anton turned to the right side of the large room. The backs of mercenaries obscured the wall but from what he could see there were dozens of pieces of paper pinned all over the wall. Some looked very cheap and old while others were clearly very new and expensive, judging by the intricacy of the words.

"I guess that's the job board." Anton said quietly.

Verona glanced at him and then to the wall. "Yeah. Oh, there's a person there that looks like those really slow people at the front too. Doesn't look like they're having much fun either."

Anton bobbed his head around, Verona's height afforded her a different angle, to find this person. Sure enough a young man, wearing the same style of clothes at the receptionists, was speaking rapidly to nearly all the mercenaries gathered. Their arms were waving and pointing at a sheet of paper, then explaining what the job was. It was a little difficult to hear over the dull roar coming from behind but the jobs seemed simple enough: bodyguard duty, extermination of some beasts or monsters that have gotten out of hand and caravan protection. Anton didn't know how much the jobs would pay but it appeared to be relatively standardised judging by the calm way the mercenaries were listening in.

Verona tilted her head. "Why do they need that person to explain what the jobs are?

"I don't know how many people here can read." Anton replied, he received a sheepish look from Verona. "But I don't think it's a common thing to be able to do. That soldier that we keep meeting could read but I don't know about the rest of them."

"Oh...well, it's a good thing that I have you then." Verona squeezed his hand. "Because I still have trouble reading words. Not as bad as I used to, but..."

The line moved forward again. Now it was Kal's turn to become impatient. It seemed that this place needed to bring in more staff for today. A noise, coming down the stairs, caught Anton's idle attention. A large armoured man trundled down the stairs, a thin young woman wearing light causal clothes walking close behind. She didn't wear any armour but looked rather flushed, so too did the man.

"Guess this place offers all kinds of services." Anton mumbled quietly. Kal nodded.

The armoured man stopped and looked up the stairs. The young woman moved to this side as another woman, this one almost as equally large and armoured as the man, came down. She too looked a little flushed as a young man followed her.

"All kinds of service." Kal said quietly. Through her hand he felt her laugh. It would be very rude to do so when they were looking.

The line moved forward and now there was only one person in front of them. He lost track of the armoured pair but he watched the pair of suspected escorts open a door to the side of the counter and enter. They nearly bumped into another young woman exiting the door, this one holding a tray of steaming hot food.

Is that a good idea? Keeping those two professions close to each other? I'm sure that the escorts aren't waiting in the kitchen. At least, I hope so.

With the last person in front of them gone one of the twins waved them over.

"About bloody time." Verona grumbled in a barely audible whisper.

It took a moment for Anton to register that the person on the other side was a man. While his face was largely androgynous he had a small amount of stubble on his chin. As they neared the counter Anton looked at the other twin, still serving a mercenary. That twin was undoubtedly a woman, though it was a little less obvious when compared to Kal and especially Verona.

"Hello." The man said as they reached the counter. Once again Verona was irritated by her lack of height and glared angrily over the top. "How can I help?"

Anton rested his hands on the counter, while Kal kept very close to him and her hands by her side. She did not need a click from her claws touching the counter to give her away. "Hello. We were told that there was a big job coming up, about reclaiming a fort to the north from some goblins, and we would like to sign up."

The man looked between all three of them. Verona sighed dramatically as his attention rested on her silver hair. She raised both her hands just as he was about to speak. "What ever you are going to say, you can hold it in. We've probably heard it already. And in answer to your next question, yes we can fight. Very well in fact. So we're going to sign up for the job."

Verona's small outburst caught the man a little off guard. He straightened his shirt as recovered his train of thought.

"Well...You must understand that, because of the nature and reward of this job, we have had to turn quite a few people away as they are...not suited to be part of this guild. Most are snapped up by the Red Company anyway, but..." The man shrugged. His eyes darted to the side where the other twin was glaring angrily at him. He coughed again. "So, you wish to join the guild for this job?"

"Yep." Verona replied curtly.

"If I may ask, where did you hear about this job and from whom?"

Guess we're about to see if Virgil's a liar or not.

"A man by the name of Virgil." Anton replied, the man kept a straight face and allowed him to continue. "We have just travelled with him from the far east of Graterious, from a town called Soulthor, to here. He told us about it."

The man slowly nodded. "That explains a bit. Virgil and the rest of his gang have already been through and told some interesting tales." He looked between the three of them again. "I guess you must be them."

"Good or bad tales?" Verona asked, a hint of worry in her voice. If he told them everything, and these people were fanatics opposed to the Old Gods...

"Interesting ones." He replied. "But we do not discriminate here based on your beliefs, so long as you are a good fighter and a decent person. Your...beliefs, are not a concern to us. And neither should it be."

Finally somewhere a little progressive in this world. I guess being a mercenary guild means that you would get all sorts of people and you couldn't be too prejudiced if you wanted to be successful. I shouldn't be reading too much into it though.

Verona breathed a sigh of relief.

"So long as you don't try and ram your beliefs down someone's throat there won't be a problem."

"Well." Verona idly scratched at her hair. "They may have to see it, but that's all I'm going to do."

"Thank you." He looked honestly relieved. "We don't need any more preachers coming in here and disrupting everything. Those Holy Father people are really annoying. Shouting and hurling abuse at everyone."

"Haven't seen any of them in Porswea." Anton said.

"They aren't that popular but they're around." The man clapped his hands. "So, if you are who you say you are, we would be delighted to have you with us. Now it's just a matter of sorting out your credentials."

"Isn't there something like a fee?" Anton asked.

"Normally there would be, just a small one to keep out the truly useless, but we are willing to trust Virgil's word that you have some skill."

He left the counter and proceeded through an open door and left their sight. Kal pulled on his sleeve.

"Is this good or bad?" The fear of the unknown was clear in her voice. "I only have my daggers with me and I don't know how well I'll be able to fight with this mask on."

"I hope that it's a good thing." Anton replied. "Hopefully he's just going to get some paper work. Just stay close to the both of us."

"I'll have to get you to do mine." Verona said glumly. "Once we get some real down time I'll get one of you two, or both, to teach me how to read and write properly."

The man returned a few minutes later with three small metal plates. He handed one to each of them. Each had their name, the name of the guild alongside, and an emblem of a birds claw striking a human skull. They already knew their names and who was who. Anton realised he was making a face and decided to direct his mental energy somewhere else. He looked at the emblem next to his name.

"Charming image." Anton said as he held the plate in the palm of his hand. "What sort of message are you trying to send?"

The man shrugged. "The founder decided on that emblem when the guild was formed and it's stayed that way ever since."

"What's the Red Company's emblem?" Verona asked. "Is it just a red square?"

Verona was very surprised when he nodded. She looked up at Anton. "We need to do a lot better than that."

Anton nodded, much to the man's confusion. "We will." He looked up at the male twin. "So how do we sign up for this job?"

The man pointed to the board on the wall. "Over there someone will be able to direct you to sign up and what the job entails. Present them with the iron plate and they will know that you are part of the guild and can join up. Good luck and don't get killed."

They returned the nod and moved to the side as another person moved forward. Verona tossed the metal plate up in her hand. "So, what do we do with these? Just put them in a pocket? I don't have a necklace to hang it off. And I don't need any more weight on my front."

Anton looked at his own metal plate. It was a cheap piece of iron with just his first name. They didn't know he had a last name so it would be strange for that to be there. The same with Verona and Kal, now they had a last name as well now they were married to him. It would be very weird if they knew that as well. As a piece of identification it was a little lacking. Most importantly there was no real way for someone to know if the plate actually belonged to them. However, in a world without photographs it was the best they could reasonably do. Perhaps there could be magic involved for more important things and people, but so far he had seen nothing of the sort. Everything in Porswea was still done by hand and muscle.

"Let's go find out what we are supposed to do and go back to the Inn." Kal said as she placed the plate underneath a fold of cloth hidden by her chest armour. "I want to get out of these clothes."

Anton nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. Strangely, and judging by the way her clawed fingers scratched at his palm, she seemed rather playful right now.

"The moment we are done here." Anton whispered into her ear. Kal chuckled and squeezed his hand. Not to be outdone, Verona linked her arm with Anton and pulled him along. Verona forced a way through the crowd and emerged at the front, Anton and Kal close behind. Verona grumbled as she retreated and rested her body against his.

She looked up, annoyance clear on her face. "I can't find the one we need. I really need to get better with my reading. I'll just struggle on my own."

Verona looked back at the wall and sighed. There were far more pieces of paper than Anton first thought. Nearly every free part of the wall had been filled with requests, many simply laid over one another with no real care for placement. It looked a bit of a mess.

It all seems to be relatively simple stuff. Kill or protect...by killing. And for a decent amount of money too. Though with so much gold on us, and living off the land without needing money, I don't think I really understand how much people need to make to live in this world. There's another thought. Unless we can get a business going here we may need to do quite a few more of these jobs to keep a steady income going to Atros, so we can keep buying things and freeing Beast-kin slaves. I think we'll try and sort that out when we come back. First we need to rescue Kal's mother and begin a way to rescue the rest of her people. We've got enough money to get us started.

"So where's this big job?" Anton asked aloud. “We're looking for something to do with taking back a fort.”

The Guild worker, who looked suspiciously similar to the twins at the counter, ripped off a small piece of paper and handed it to a group of mercenaries. They huddled together and moved back to the main room, all the while checking over their weapons and armour. They looked like they were getting ready to go. Anton wondered what they would be fighting.

The worker moved to another group of mercenaries and pointed to the largest piece of paper on the board. It was considerably larger than all the others, though the writing was crisp and clean instead of some of the more ornate and extravagant pieces of paper. Anton studied the large piece of paper. It appeared to be the one they wanted.

"Pretty sure it's that big one." Anton pulled Kal close as a mercenary stopped beside her.

"So how do we sign up?" Kal asked.

"Only one way to find out." Verona said. She lent forward and waved at the Guild worker. He turned, gave a nod of acknowledgement, and continued speaking rapidly with the other mercenaries. "There we go." Verona had a cheeky smile. "Now he knows that we need help. He'll know what to do."

They waited for only half a minute before the man was done with the mercenaries, this group left empty handed, and he moved to them.

"Yes?" He asked as he approached. "How can I help?"

The man was short of breath and a little flushed, though for different reasons compared to those that came down the stairs. Verona nudged Anton's side. Apparently she wanted him to do the talking despite calling the man over.

"We were told that this is the place to sign up to the job to retake a fort a days ride north of here?" Anton asked.

The man nodded. "Yes. We've been having that question a lot over these past few days. Are you...members of the guild?"

All three nodded as Verona was the first to pull out her metal identification plate. The man took them, inspected them quickly before giving a nod, and moved to the large piece of paper. He pulled out a very fine piece of charcoal and put three small dashes along the bottom of the sheet of paper. There were already hundreds of them.

"Thank you for signing up." The man said as he returned the plates. "We're trying to get everyone we can for this to guarantee success. We were expecting a few more but they're being put off by the numbers of goblins."

"What sort of reward are we looking at?" Anton asked.

"The reward is five hundred silver per person." The man replied, much to Kal's shock. He picked up on her surprise even with her mask still on. "The Guild itself isn't offering that, but Lord Cassius is topping it up to that amount. Killing Goblins wouldn't net you that sort of reward, ever. However he doesn't want the fort to become a goblin nest and infect the surrounding area. It'll cost far more to dislodge them if they get dug in. Lord Cassius doesn't want that when there's a good chance that war could be breaking out soon."

Anton nodded. "That's what we've been hearing for a little while now."

The man shrugged. "If you kill and brutalise someone's family something bad is going to happen to you, even if it's not in the best interests of the empire."

Anton nodded again. It might seem a little strange to ask the man outright. He filed the question to be asked at a later date. Perhaps on the trip they'll meet some mercenaries that are willing to talk to pass the time.

"Where and when do we gather for this job?" Verona asked.

When the man looked at her he paid her hair almost no attention. "Everyone needs to be assembled at the Guild before the middle of the day. We then depart for our destination and will arrive some time the next afternoon. We will begin precursory operations upon arrival. Make sure that you're ready and rested."

"That sounds like you're coming with us?" Anton asked.

"Indeed. I will be the representative of the guild with the main forces." A sheepish smile crawled over his face. "I ask you, and everyone, not to do anything stupid during the mission. It'll make everyone's life more difficult."

"We won't be doing that." Anton replied. "So, be back here tomorrow at midday?" The man nodded again. "We'll see you then."

He gave a slight nod before returning to his duties. Anton turned Kal around and gently pushed her forward, standing right behind her in case anyone bumped into her, and Verona quick darted in front as they walked away from the job wall. They moved to one of the empty tables on the far side of the main room so they would not be in anyone's way.

Verona lent on a chair as she looked around for anyone listening in. "So what now?"

Anton and Kal moved alongside her, with Kal in the middle. "We've only got a few more things to do before we can head back to the Inn."

Kal chuckled and shook her head but didn't say anything. Verona sighed and stretched out her back. "I know that I would like some of that beer they've got floating around here." Anton looked to some of the groups of mercenaries and their relatively lavish food. "It smells pretty good. My father once gave me some, when my mother wasn't looking, and it was really good. But I don't think it's really...a..." Verona trailed off as she frowned deeply, her eyes pointed towards the entrance. A laugh tried to overtake her face as she desperately fought it back. "By all the Old Gods, what the fuck is that?"

Anton followed her gaze and was astonished at the sight. Six people had just entered the Guild but these looked like no mercenary he had seen before. The young three men and three women dressed, what could be called, provocatively. The men only wore leather pants, leaving their relatively well muscled and hairless chests exposed for all to see. Quite a few small scars adorned their chests but to Anton something appeared a little off about the scars. They looked real but were a little too neat, it was the only way he could describe his feeling. Overall they were quite handsome men, their faces square and strong with a thick head of hair. It seemed strange that, amongst all the other mercenaries who were armoured to the hilt, that they would deliberately expose so much of themselves to danger. At least they had a sword at their side, but had no shield. They seemed poorly prepared for combat.

The women, however, made Anton sigh on the inside. They wore something similar to what Anton would have called sexy armour. Armour that had no practical use in battle. Overall they wore less than the men; a pair of very short leather shorts with an oversized belt that showed off a significant portion of their rear, and a cropped leather armour chest piece, which cut off just underneath their quite large breasts and two of which had a window in the armour to expose yet more flesh. The only other things they wore were a pair of small boots, a suspicious amount of padding at the back to give them pseudo-high heels, and some small leather gloves. They too had short swords at their waists, and one even had a shield. Their brown hair was quite long, a few curls ran throughout, and immaculately maintained, something that none of the other female mercenaries had. None of it looked even remotely practical if they were actual fighters. In fact they looked more like they belonged in some sort of sexy role play scene rather than combat.

Anton was unimpressed by their attire and doubly so by their attitude. Each was soaking up the attention they were being afforded, a well hidden sneer tried to grow on their faces because they knew they had just become the center of attention. A surprising number of male mercenaries were turned away from looking by their female compatriots, though a few of them took the moment to get a look as well.

Kal pulled on Anton's sleeve. "Is that what you were talking about in the armoury district? These sort of people? Dressed like..."

Anton nodded. "Yeah. It....Look at it. You can tell right away that it affords no real protection and is just meant to entice your eyes. Like a lure...And it seems to be doing a pretty good job at it too. I don't think it's meant to be used in actual combat though. Maybe something kinky upstairs. Why are they here anyway?"

"If they're here for any sort of combat they're going to get themselves killed." Verona grumbled as she shook her head. "One poisoned arrow right between the tits doesn't sound like a good way to go. And they don't have either of your abilities either to fix that."

"A horrific way to die." Kal added, though she refused to elaborate.

Anton shook his head and rose off the table. "Indeed. Personally it doesn't matter to me and I don't really care to hang around to find out what they're after. Let's go."

Both rose up and moved so Kal was in the middle as they moved to the door.

"I thought Virgil said this was a good Guild." Kal said quietly to him. "They look like they belong with the Red Company."

"I can imagine what they're hired for then." Anton whispered back, eliciting a chuckle from Kal. "Though not why they're here right now, or why they haven't moved from the door. Best we don't get involved with them and just slip past."

"Right." Both girls replied in unison.

They moved silently through the guild, making every effort not to attract the six's attention. However that was a little difficult as everyone else quickly stopped paying them attention and the scantily dressed mercenaries had not moved from the door. It also didn't help Anton's cause that one of them had silver hair and the other a white green mask. They stood out like a sore thumb against the dirtier and darker mercenaries.

One of the men perked up as they approached, his eyes glued onto Verona's silver hair. His eyes kept glancing down at her chest, something that made Anton annoyed at how brazen it was. His chest puffed out as he turned to face her.

"Hey there." He said loudly when they were a few meters from the door. "You seem pretty cute. How about we go for a drink little lady?"

Before Anton could speak Verona cut him off. "No way in hell." Verona snapped back at him. "Can you please move from the door? We want to leave."

He seemed stunned by Verona's words, so too did his companions. Verona flashed Anton an apologetic smile as they stopped barely a meter from the door. It took a moment before the man recovered.

"Could you please move?" Anton asked, his voice devoid of emotion. He did not have the time or the energy to deal with these fools.

"How dare you talk to him like that!" one of the women snarled. "You dare talk-"

"Shut up." Anton said loudly, some of the roar from the other mercenaries faded away. They were the center of attention now. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't care what you're doing or what you think you're doing, but you're baring the door and stopping us from leaving and other people from entering. So, could you please move to the side and let us pass?"

Anton tried to keep as calm as possible but that was hard given the way they looked at him. Although he could easily rend them into dust and ash at a moments notice that would ruin everything they had worked towards so far. It might be impossible to make it Seocuria if he let his desires get the better of him. He tired his best to remain calm and patient, but that often evaporated when dealing with stubborn fools.

"And who the fuck are you?" The second man asked, backed up by the furious nodding of the second woman. His rather impressive chest puffed out as he moved forward in a clear act of intimidation, though to Anton it looked more like a frog puffing itself up when threatened. Anton forced himself to keep a straight face.

What am I watching play out in front of me? Six idiots with an ego problem? Why am I watching this? Whatever, we don't have time for this.

"Could you please move?" Anton asked again. Now there was little noise coming from behind. Everyone wanted to see how this was going to play out.

As the seconds dragged out there was no movement from the six. Anton's patience was nearing its end. It was the way they looked at them at irked him so much, though he couldn't really say why.

"Sure. We'll move." The first man said as he stepped forward, his hand raised towards Verona. "But first how about a you-"

"What's wrong with your breath?" Verona asked, just as his hand tried to reach her shoulder and as Anton grabbed his wrist tight. It stunned all of them so Verona asked again. Still no answer. Anton threw the hand away as the mercenary glared at him. Verona shook her head as her hand moved to her waist, and her blade. "It smells kind of familiar. Although, as men, you breath shouldn't smell of that stuff...Not that I have a problem with men who enjoy their own kind..."

All six had turned to a curious mixture of rage and disbelief. The three men looked to each other as they stepped back and reached for their weapons. Right now Anton, Verona and Kal looked thoroughly weak and vulnerable. An easy target. They were about to learn how wrong they were.

Verona and Kal reached for their weapons as Anton readied six lightning bolts. Not strong enough to kill them but to stun and give them the fright of their lives. Anton raised his hand and readied to let loose when something hard and cold grabbed his shoulder. Though it was covered in metal and leather Anton could feel the fingers grabbing down hard on his shoulder. He had been so distracted by the six idiots that he hadn't kept a watch on his surroundings or who could sneak up on them. Verona and Kal snarled as they all turned to face the owner of the hand. Anton was surprised to see a large mercenary, the same one that came down the stairs with the escort, holding onto his shoulder, his slightly weathered face held a bitter smile. The female mercenary was a few paces behind him with a large green metalled mace resting on her shoulder and a wicked smile on her face.

"Whatever you three are thinking of doing, I wouldn't." He spoke with a soft but deep and authoritative voice.

"It was never our intention." Anton replied. He kept the magic bubbling away and created a new lightning bolt to be directed at the new mercenary at a moments notice. "We have been incredibly polite and tried to settle this peacefully, but they couldn't just move to the side like decent people. How hard is that?"

"Oh, I didn't think you were in the wrong. Everyone heard it. But it probably wasn't the best idea to point out what they do for a living." He directed his last words at Verona. Verona said nothing and kept her eyes focused on his, and the metal gauntlet still holding onto Anton's shoulder.

"And you six idiots shouldn't be picking fights with people you're going to lose to." Their hands continued to hover over their swords as they judged their chances. For whatever reason they had yet to choose to give up and walk away, even though that was the easiest thing to do, but doing that would harm their ego.

The woman with the mace stepped forward and waved the weapon about. "Not being cooperative with you, babe?"

"No. No they are not." Now that they were on near equal numbers the six did not seem so brave. When the male mercenary moved to his blade the six finally relented and moved away from the door, mumbling a few curses, and allowing passage to well over a dozen angry mercenaries waiting outside. The man finally relinquished his grip of Anton's shoulder as they watched the six storm towards the job wall.

"Those idiots are always a pain." The mercenary grumbled.

"Then why let them be a part of the Guild?" Verona asked. "I heard this Guild was meant to be one of the better ones."

"They don't look like they do much fighting." Anton added, Kal nodding alongside him.

"No they don't." The male mercenary looked back at the six, now forcing their way through the crowd. "But they always make the guild a bit of money with the jobs they do. Don't often see them heading over there. Usually they head around the back...The Graterious Mercenary Guild has many types of jobs available. They just fill a very specific requirement."

I'm guessing it's a sex thing. None of them are what you could call unattractive. Though their attitude leaves a lot to be desired. You're not paying them for conversation.

"They must be desperate if they're actually thinking of fighting instead of some role play." The female mercenary added. "With those weapons and that armour...Wonder what they've managed to fuck up."

"True." He turned to Anton. "You three had best be on your way before those idiots try something."

"We were just trying to leave this whole time. Peacefully." Verona grumbled loudly. "And that seemed to be their problem. What is their problem anyway?"

"No idea. But they're always trying something, though I've never seen one with a sword that actually planned to use it before." The mercenary shook his head. "You three joining up to retake the fort to the north?"

Anton gave a small nod.

Both mercenaries cracked a smile. "Well, we'll see you tomorrow then." A wry smile overcame his face. "Try not get into any more fights before then, okay?"

He did not wait for an answer as he turned around, linked arms with the female mercenary, and moved back into the Guild. With the event over everyone returned to their drinks and food.

Anton took a moment before Verona pulled on his sleeve. "We didn't do anything wrong. Did we?"

Anton shook his head as he held Verona's hand. "No. We were being as polite as possible after they wouldn't move and tried to hit on you, which still annoys me." Verona flushed the tiniest amount at hearing his annoyance at someone making a pass at her. "And they wanted to keep it going. I'm sure they wanted money in the end." Anton spied some of the six glaring at them. He smiled and waved as he turned away and led them out of the building. As he turned away he heard a burst of laughter; the other mercenaries were laughing at, not with, the six, each of whom were looking rather embarrassed. They wouldn't forget this for a while. "Bunch of weird bullies. We haven't seen the last of them. Especially if they sign up as well."

Both girls nodded as they all moved back onto the street.

---[]---

Once outside, and back into the bustle of the streets of Porswea, Anton moved to the side of the building and away from the throngs of armoured mercenaries. Verona, still holding his arm, looked up at him while Kal tilted her face.

"Now.” Anton began. “I would love nothing more than to head back to the Inn and push you both down but I want to make sure that we've done everything we can before we have some fun.”

"What about writing back to Atros?" Verona asked. "We didn't do it the other night and they might be getting a little worried."

Anton looked up at the sky. It was late afternoon, judging by how low the sun had sunk in the east. Seeing the sun set in reverse to Earth always reminded him that he was in a different world. Not that Verona and Kal, a Blood Berserker and a half breed Beast-kin, didn't do that every day he woke up next to them.

Anton shook his head and focused his thoughts. "Yes, we need to do that. But we've always done it once the sun has set...though that might be a little earlier that before, as it'll be dark there while it's still light here."

"There..." Kal squeezed his arm. "You wanted to find about the magic academy here. So you can find out more about our magic."

Anton nodded. "Yes. Good thinking Kal. We may need to buy some more food to get that information thought. Something to fill our stomachs too. We didn't get a chance in there."

"That'll be good." Verona licked her lips in readiness.

Anton smirked as he pinched her cheek, Verona grunting as he tugged on it. "And maybe this time we can share the food?"

"Why didn't you buy three then?" Verona asked. She tried her best to smile but she looked ridiculous with her stretched cheeks. Anton relented and Verona gave her face a quick massage as she chuckled. "But that's given me an idea."

"Me pinching your cheek?"

Verona laughed. "Not that...Anyway, I was thinking about those special metal barrels you had Jonathan make. Hand cannons, I'm pretty sure you called them. The blue powder is supposed to come from Graterious, so, while we are here..."

"Yep. Dragon's Breath. Another good idea. We'll do both at the same time." Anton began walking back into the busy streets with both on his arms. "Do we go back to that food stall?"

"I can't eat...outside." Kal grumbled unhappily. "It's too risky for me."

This time Verona grumbled. "I hate that's a thing we have to go through."

Anton gave Kal a light hug which made her a little happier. "One day that will change. I'll make sure it does."

Kal said nothing and rubbed the side of her cloth covered head on his shoulder. "I'll be fine."

"I...Okay." Anton wasn't going to try and push the issue, especially when the consequence of discovery was the end of her life as she new it.

They walked in silence through the bustling streets, filled with people of all ages and social classes, always being very careful not to bump into anyone, until they found the food stall again. The wry man and woman, who Anton believed were man and wife, were making the kebabs at a tremendous rate to feed the small crowd gathered around their stall.

"Why are there so many people?" Verona asked as they stopped to the side of the crowd. "There weren't this many before."

"No. But look at their clothes." Anton nodded towards the crowd. "Most of them are pretty dirty and look tired. I think they're workers that have just finished for the day."

Anton looked to the other food stalls. Some where far busier than this one but all had the same tired and dirty men and women surrounding them.

Kal spluttered once. "I'm surprised you can't smell them. It smells pretty bad."

Anton and Verona took a deep sniff of the air but he couldn't smell the stink that she was talking about. He could smell a mixture of sweat, dirt and soot. Perhaps that was truly offensive to a Beast-kin's sense of smell.

Very quickly a large gap emerged in the crowd which wasn't immediately filled, it appeared this part of the rush was over. Anton moved Kal between them for protection and moved forward. The man glanced up as he saw them approach, his eyes moved from Verona's silver hair to Kal's green mask, finally a smile crawled over his weathered and sooty face.

"Well, well. Back for some more information?" He asked teasingly while continuing to work on cooking the meat over the steady fire. "Or are you actually interested in our food this time?"

"Both, actually." Anton replied. "You seem like you would know a few things around here."

The woman laughed as she shook her head, a cackle escaping her lips. He glared at her before looking back to them. "Don't listen to her. She wouldn't know her arse from her leg."

"At least I know my way to this spot." she smiled at him. "Hasn't taken me thirty winters to still not get it."

The man laughed before he gave her a kiss, which she returned. The whole exchange was a little odd to watch.

"Alright. How many do you want?"

The man made it very clear who was to move first, probably from being too helpful in the past and the other person not holding up their end of the bargain.

"Two today." Anton replied. "Two of your very best."

The man nodded as he continued to cook at a rapid pace. When he looked up a frown grew on his face. "You wanted to ask me something, so hurry up and pay. I can see more customers coming."

Anton looked in the direction his head jerked towards. Coming down the busy street was another swarm of dirty and tired workers. They began to peel off to the stalls but many more were coming.

"Right." Anton coughed. He reached into one of his hidden purses and withdrew twenty copper coins. The man took the coins without a second glance. Anton guessed that it was time to start asking questions. "Do you know of something called Dragon's Breath?"

The man nodded as he received payment from a dirty worker.

"That I do. Blue powder that the travelling artists troupes use. Very exciting stuff when it burns and flashes bright. When they're in town business is always good. Something about seeing all that fire and swinging and prancing about seems to make people hungry. So that's good for me."

"Any idea where they make it?"

He puffed out his cheeks and slowly and loudly exhaled. "I know the troupes don't make it. Some of their suppliers complained about there only being so much and they have to travel quite a way to get it."

"But it's in Graterious?"

"Yes. Far to the south west of here." He handed over a steaming and scrumptious looking kebab.

Anton gave it to Verona who devoured it like a starving fox. Anton shook his head and turned back to the man. "What's the name of this place?"

"Oh...it was something like Karatin. No, that's not right. Kuronoe. No..."

As he continued guessing at the name Anton had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew the name of the city where the Dragon's Breath powder was made. It had already been given to them.

"Is it called Koumore?"

He snapped his fingers. "That's it. Can't ever get the names right. But if you already knew the name, why bother asking?"

"I just wanted to double check." Anton replied. "We didn't want to head all that way and find out it was the wrong place. It seems to be some distance away."

Kal tugged on his sleeve and moved her mask millimetres from his face. "That's where that old woman that saw through..."

Anton nodded. "Yes. I think that also explains why she told using to get on the boat first and get that done. Don't want to be sailing around with hundreds of barrels of that stuff on board with us."

Kal shook her head. She knew how dangerous the powder was. One day the whole world would know what too.

"Is that all you've got to ask?" The man presented the second kebab.

Anton caught out the corner of his eye Verona looking desperately at him. He was going to ask where all the food went but the answer was obvious. He took the food and had a few good mouthfuls. The meat burst with succulent juices, from what animal he could not tell, and the vegetables were cooked to perfection. It was little wonder that Verona wanted to devour this. And it was such a shame that Kal could not enjoy this. With half the kebab gone he passed the remains to Verona who, after giving a hurried thanks, quickly tore into it. He felt Kal's jealousy through her body, they would need to order some special food for her when they got back to the Inn. Perhaps a little pampering as well.

"I've just got a second thing to ask. Now, I've heard there is a magic academy in Porswea."

"Yep. There sure is." He looked up and flashed a toothy smile. "I suppose you're going to ask where it is next?" Anton nodded, a little distracted by the sound of the carnivore next to him. "If you head towards one of the main plazas, you'll find all those signs hanging down? You want a blue board with a white staff with a green ball on top. Don't know why that's the sign they chose for the academy but that's what they chose." He stopped preparing food and looked them over again. "But it won't do you any good. They won't let you through the gates dressed like that."

"What should we wear then?" Kal asked.

The man frowned as he looked into her white and green mask. There was no way that he could have guessed Kal's true identity, at least that's what Anton hoped.

"They wear these great flowing robes, brightest colours you'll ever see. And a massive ego to match."

"You got that right." his wife said loudly. "Little pricks, all of them. Doesn't matter their age neither. They keep thinking they can just get things off people for free because they can use a little magic. Just a bunch of spoiled bullies." Several of the waiting crowd murmured in agreement. "Though it doesn't mean you can't jab them with a knife if they get too close." This time the crowd laughed, so too did both of the stall owners.

Obviously something's happened with a mage that's become quite a story. Nevertheless it only reinforces what Alfred said about mages needing good armour and staying away from the front lines. At least I should have the first of those covered soon.

"I'm sure we'll manage." Anton said. "Do you know if they sell books on magic outside the academy?"

The man shook his head. "It used to be so, but not any more. Lord Cassius is hoarding all the knowledge on magic. He thinks there's going to be a war soon, and only those loyal to him have access. Keeps them loyal too. So, no. Not unless you're willing to risk the black market. But that would be a death trap for people like you."

"Alright. Well, thanks for the information." Anton gave them a quick nod. "You both have a good day now."

They gave a quick wave back as the next wave of dirty workers had finally meandered to their stall. Anton nodded for them to follow. Verona ripped the last of the meat off the small stick and looked for somewhere to put both sticks. Things like public waste services were...lacking, in Porswea, so she decided on placing them on the ground next to a building instead of dropping it on the street.

“That's a bugger.” Verona said as they resumed their previous arrangement. “Thought we might be able to get some answers. Well...solutions to our problems.”

“If we do well on this job I'm sure we'll get the chance.” Anton patted Verona's hand. “It'll be good to have some information about our powers...How...How are you holding up on your side.”

Verona took a moment before answering. “It's okay. Right now I don't feel anything like that but when I'm in the thick of fighting it can get a little bad. I think I'm getting better at controlling it.” She shook her head. “Time will tell, but I'll let you know if it gets really bad, like to the south of that ridge.”

Anton nodded and held her hand tight. He never wanted to have to strike someone he loved again. They said nothing more as they travelled through the busy streets and back to the Inn.

---[]---

When they arrived back at the Inn they were treated to an interesting, and quite dangerous, sight. The receptionist woman, who Anton suspected might be the owner of the Inn, glared angrily at them the moment they entered as two people, their skin dyed blue, stood beside her. Their faces held a hidden shame as they refused to look anyone in the eye.

"You three have some explaining to do." She snapped the moment they were in sight. "You had better give me a good excuse not to call the city watch and have you strung up on the outer wall."

Her voice was breaking near the end but it did nothing to diminish her anger. Anton said nothing as they approached, those lounging in the main room all turned their gaze to the noise, and stopped a few meters away. The woman's confidence diminished ever so slightly but it returned almost instantly.

"What's the problem?" Anton asked nonchalantly, fully aware of what those two had done.

She glared at all three of them, for playing this game out in public. "I don't know what you did...You did something that turned my workers blue. And struck them with lightning, nearly killing them. Explain!"

"How could I have done that?" Anton asked, trying to be as innocent as possible. "We've only just returned."

She glanced at the Verona and Kal, who said nothing, and looked back to him.

"Unless." Verona began. "They decided to touch our belongings. Those bags are magically enchanted, a spell has been cast on the bags to make someone who shouldn't be trying to go through somebody else's stuff skin turn blue and give them a bit of lightning to scare them off."

Now it was Verona's turn to glare at the two blue people. "So...Why did you try and go through something that doesn't belong to you?"

As Verona barred her teeth, and they looked at her silver hair, the two began to pale and shake.

"Well?" The owner asked the pair. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I..." one spoke up before lowering their head in shame.

The owner quickly understood the implication. Panic began to take over her body as she looked back towards Anton. He said nothing and kept his face blank.

"My...My deepest apologies." She said hurriedly as she bowed deeply, not caring about what that meant for her hair or dress. "I accused you of something terrible. Something no one should be accused of."

"Is all our stuff still there?" Verona asked.

The owner nodded furiously, so too did the two in blue.

"That's good to know." Anton continued. "We're going to retire to our room for the night. I trust that this will be the end of this? We won't be hearing of this again?"

"It...It will be the last." The owner blurted out. "Your stay with us will be free of charge and everything you have paid for will be refunded."

Anton waved her down, much to her confusion. "That's very kind of you but that won't be necessary." Verona looked up with an odd expression on her face. "We just wish to spend our time here peacefully and without interruption. And I'm sure that you don't want this to go any further, for your sake."

"I can guarantee that from now on." She added hurriedly, her head bowed low.

"Good." Anton smiled at both girls, Verona smiled back and it was, as ever, hard to guess what Kal was thinking underneath that mask. "I would have a long talk to those two about their future job prospects if they wish to turn to theft. The blue will fade over the next few days. That will give them plenty of time to think about their choices in life."

"I will be sure to teach them a lesson they won't forget."

"But." One of the blue workers slipped out before he was silenced by a single angry glare. He immediately shrunk in size and presence.

Is she their mother? That would make a little sense, but it's not really my problem any more. I guess they're going to get the shit beaten out of them.

Anton began to walk, the girls by his side, and passed through in utter silence. Only when the woman thought they were out of earshot did she begin speaking again in hushed whispers. Just as they reached the door to their room Anton heard a slap, two of them, coming down the corridor, followed by cries and many, many more slaps. Their cries didn't stop the assaults on their bodies. Anton wondered what the other people in the lounge were thinking as they were watching the punishment unfold infront of them.

"Guess they got what they got what they deserved for trying to steal our belongings." Kal said quietly.

She reached out and held his hand as they pushed the open door. They were greeted by the room in exactly the same state in which they had left it. There was no evidence that someone had tried to rummage through their belongings, apart from the fact that the bags had moved position. Thankfully their weapons had not been touched either, at least they hadn't been moved. Perhaps trying to take that was what made the two blue.

"For a thief they got off easily." Verona mumbled as she closed the door, quickly moving some furniture to bar passage. "I don't like the idea of theives."

Kal huffed as she removed her mask. Her tanned face was a little flushed and sweaty from being trapped behind that mask for so long. Anton raised a brow, to which Kal flashed a toothy smile, her canine shaped teeth gently biting on her lips, before sternly glaring at Verona.

"You do remember that I was a thief?" Kal asked, all emotion gone from her voice. Anton saw Kal's behind, just where the tail attached to her body, wiggle ever so slightly. Kal was in an oddly playful mood today and was having a rare dig at Verona.

Verona snapped around. A genuine concern lay on her face that she had offended Kal, but when she saw Anton's smile it vanished. She giggled as she skipped towards and then crashed into them both.

"You..." Verona, her head still buried in Anton's chest, tapped Kal's chest armour. "Stole to survive, not to get rich. Those two idiots just wanted to make some easy coin. And who knows what might have happened if they got into the bags."

"I've stolen clothes before." Kal smiled. "Are you saying that's bad?"

They both chuckled as Verona began to unwind the cloth wrapping of both of Kal's hands. Kal quickly removed the cloth and let it fall free to the ground, her fur covered hands once again exposed to the light and air. Verona held up the hand with her ring and picked up Kal's. As she entwined their fingers she looked at Anton, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Anton, both of your new wives are having an argument." Her free hand began to undo the clips on the side of her armour. "As our husband, shouldn't you do something about that?"

Anton chuckled, moved behind Verona and wrapped his hands around her waist. When she looked up the smile on her face had only grown in size.

"You just want to get out of what you said by distracting us with the lure of sex." Anton said flatly, much to Kal's amusement.

"So what if I am?"

Anton kissed Verona before picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. Surprise covered her face as flew through the air, her hands tucked close to her body like a cute little fox. Kal laughed at the sight of Verona bouncing across the bed before she joined her. This time it was Kal's arms and legs flailing wildly in the air as she fell through the air. When she landed, and Verona crawled to her, she pouted dramatically, throwing her head away from both of them. She quickly relented as Anton joined them and began to kiss her deeply, pushing her down alongside Verona.

---[]---

Anton sat at a table, the communication pen and some spare paper laid out in front of him, while Verona and Kal took a gentle and relaxing bath. While it had been a long and exhausting session, their first time as a married...group, a time they all wanted to make truly memorable, seeing their shapely and dishevelled bodies slide into the water made him excited for more. However while that was undoubtedly more satisfying than what he was currently doing writing back to Atros was more important.

Verona, her wet silver hair allowed to wander freely in the bath as the water reached up to her chin, looked backwards at him as she idly splashed at the water. "Don't be too long." Verona purred in the most seductive voice she could muster. "Your new wives want your company. Now."

"I won't be too long." Anton replied. "Or, why don't you two join me here for a few minutes before we all go for a dip together."

The glanced at each other before Kal gave a tiny nod and began to walk out of the bath, her wet tail leaving the water several paces after her. Verona let out a tiny sigh, as the decision had been made for her. They each grabbed a soft white towel, one belonging to the Inn, and wrapped it around their bodies. It successfully covered some of their body though it left their shapely legs exposed and only accentuated the alluring curves of their bodies, the water running down their skin as they moved. Kal's claws clacked lightly as she crossed the floor to collect a chair for them and moved one either side of Anton. They leaned in close to see what he was about to write. Unfortunately the towel didn't do a great job of hiding either of their cleavage's. Anton found himself becoming lost in the sight of the pale milk and red swirls on one side and the soft mocha on the other, even though he knew exactly what they were like in every conceivable way. It was different, and utterly delicious, to see their firm bodies wrapped up tightly by the white towels. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He could push them down again later.

"So." Kal began, her green horizontal cat slit eyes staring deep into his own as she played with the green and white ring on her beast-kin hand. "Are you going to say anything about what you seen in Graterious. And done here as well?"

Anton smiled and rubbed both on their heads. They appeared to like it, eliciting similar sounds produced just a short while ago.

"I don't think so." Anton replied, both girls cocked their heads in response. "Not all of it at least. I was planning on proposing to the both of you when we got back and I had the rings. And I still want to do that, properly ask you. For now I think we leave it a secret."

Kal nodded while Verona hugged his arm tight, pressing her inordinate breasts against him. She freed one hand and gently held his short bearded cheek. "You don't need to propose to us again. I think I'll fall over the next time you say that. I don't want a big fancy thing like Sam and Jeff had. I want to be with you, the both of you. We've all said yes, that we'll be with you 'till the day we die. And that's..." Verona blushed and smiled wildly, in an attempt to hide it. "That's what I want."

"I never thought I would live to see a day like this." Kal too leaned onto his arm. It was becoming very difficult to concentrate with two sweet smelling and soft bodies pressed against him. "So I will be with you no matter what, even without the ring. Even though it's beautiful." Now it was Kal's turn to flush. "I made a promise that I would follow you to hell. And I mean it."

"When did this happen, again?" Verona asked, not in a teasing way judging by the pressure being exerted on his leg.

"When Kal first went to Maxill with me." Anton replied, knowing full well that the answer was not going to placate her.

"Oh. So before she joined your harem." She squeezed down even harder on his leg. "Before any of this she promised to follow you anywhere."

"That's right. She did." Anton replied. He freed his hand from Kal, a lingering touch from her fingers, and began to tickle Verona's thigh. Immediately she burst into laughter as she desperately tried to palm him away. Both girls were ticklish but Verona was unbelievably so. A few short seconds passed before Verona threw her hands up in submission as his hands reached her waist.

"Okay. Okay." she gasped between short breaths. The look on her face was different to most nights but one that Anton still enjoyed. "I already knew that. I was just teasing."

Anton smiled and tickled Verona's waist. She nearly fell off the chair before she grabbed Anton's arm. "Bloody hell." She laughed out. "Can't you spare little me and attack Kal instead?"

Kal looked rather nervous. She found the noises she made when she was being tickled weird, though they were very similar to what she normally made every night.

"Maybe later." Anton hauled Verona back onto her seat properly and gave Kal's leg a small squeeze. "But we do need to get on with this. It's been a few days and I'm sure they'll be getting worried."

"I certainly hope they are." Verona mumbled, moving closer to get a better look and resting more of her soft body against him.

"Here we go." Anton mumbled as he readied the pen.

Hello. This is Anton. Are you getting this?

"Is that what you've been saying each time?" Verona asked.

Anton nodded. Verona opened her mouth but shut it as words began to flow through the hovering pen.

Hello. This is Bertram. We were all starting to get rather worried as we hadn't heard anything for a few days. Are you alright?

We are doing fine. We have arrived in Porswea without too many incidents, and hopefully will be continuing onto Seocuria in a few days time at the most. How are things back home?

"I like that we call it home." Kal murmured as she rubbed her cheek and soft beast-kin ear on his arm.

Not much of note has happened. A few goblins strayed too close to Atros and they were dealt with. Everyone is settling in quite well and construction is proceeding even faster than I thought possible. We've got many empty houses now, ready for many more people. We haven't heard anything from Duchess Belinda for some time. The last thing we heard she was being summoned to the capital of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Sounded like it had something to do with you three helping them against the Clansmen and Orcs. None of it sounded good.

"That doesn't sound good." Verona said quietly, Kal nodded in agreement. Anton felt the same way. They couldn't afford to lose an ally or, by some action of theirs, inadvertently set off some religious fanatics. Unfortunately there was little they could do from Graterious though.

I don't think there's a lot we can do without making everything worse. Do keep trying to talk to them though. How are Jonathan and his kids going?

It took a little while before the response came.

Good. They are producing lots of weapons and armour now. They're having success with infusing simple weapons with magic. I think Joclyn has made a small hammer with her lightning magic and Shawn is not far behind. I don't know if the weapons will do anything special but when we have some more made we'll give them a go and let you know as soon as we know what they do. The other smiths are very interested in seeing what they are capable of.

That's very good to hear. We all wish everyone the best of luck with everything they're doing. I hope the Goblins do not encroach any further. Make sure your son doesn't try and attack the nest and bring them down upon you without us there. Good luck and we'll contact you next time we can.

Anton laid down the pen and breathed a sigh of relief. News of Goblins moving close enough to Atros for them to fight them off was a little worrying. He hoped it had nothing to do with the crystal fissure. Anton doubted it. Atros had been attacked by thousands of Goblins unrelated to that fissure and there were so many crawling around the crystal fissure that it would have overwhelmed Atros even with everything they had there. More than likely even if they were there. It meant the remains of the Kar Kingdom were still alive and changing, and not necessarily to their benefit.

The news that no one had tried anything stupid with Jonathan's children was heartening, so was them trying to make special weapons. And of their burgeoning successes. Hearing of Duchess Belinda in such a manner was not. There was a good chance that something terrible could happen to her because she hired three heretics to save her kingdom from the depredations of the Deweth Clansmen and Orc Invasion. It made Anton feel quite ill, that there was nothing they could do to help even though he wanted to. He hoped that Belinda was strong and smart enough to get out of this unharmed. She seemed smart enough, when she was properly directed and motivated.

"There's not a lot we can do about Duchess Belinda." Anton said as he rolled up the paper. "If we do try anything it'll only make things worse."

"Besides." Verona nestled herself closer to Anton, pressing ever more of her voluptuous flesh into him. "We can't turn and head back, even if we wanted to. There's no way of getting over that crystal chasm. We need that boat."

Anton nodded as he squeezed Kal's waist. "We've also got someone to rescue before we can head back. And find a way to keep them flowing out of Seocuria and back home."

"You have an idea?" Verona asked.

"Maybe. I'll need to think a little bit more on it first." Anton stood up and dragged both up with him. They weren't quite ready for it and clung to his body and off the floor, all three breaking into a cheeky smile. "Now. One of you, with silver hair, told me to hurry up so I can take care of my new wives."

Verona flushed as she gently placed her foot on the ground. Kal followed a second later, her claws emitting the tiniest click on the wooden floor.

"That...That did happen."

As Verona reached up to kiss him another pair of hands, very soft ones, grabbed his face and turned him to the left. Kal's lips smashed into his own as her tongue invaded his mouth. Verona huffed and tired to worm her way between them with no success. Finally Anton parted, both his and Kal's faces deeply flushed, and turned his attention to Verona. She was like a giddy little girl as he kissed her, picked her up in his arms and took her to the bed. The night that followed was long, arduous, and filled with a newfound lust for one another. A night they would not forget for some time.

Chapter 083. Vol 3 - Enchantments, Clothing & Supplies

Chapter 083. Vol 3 - Enchantments, Clothing & Supplies

When Anton awoke the next morning his body was a strange mixture of weightlessness and exhaustion. Verona and Kal, dishevelled and soundly asleep in his arms, had not surrendered until well into the night. Both took quite a bit of effort to make them submit, and even then they hadn't given up but rather worked together against him. When they were finally done they collapsed in a heap and used what energy they had left to arrange themselves like normal. A few short seconds passed and they were all out cold in a deep sleep. It had been one of the most exciting and best nights they had shared yet.

He looked over to the door and was glad to see that nothing had moved. Tiny streams of sunlight came through the opaque window and covered the bed, illuminating their exposed bodies. Verona lay curled in his arms while Kal remained half spread over him. The softness of her Beast-kin hand just below his chin felt incredibly good. Where he tail was he wasn’t entirely sure.

I hope I get to wake up to this every day. This is something no human being would ever tire of. I'm glad they said yes, now I can monopolise them.

Finally, after some encouragement from Anton, the girls started to wake. Verona mewled as she twisted and laid on her back, arching upwards and allowing her voluminous breasts to spill over the side. When she was done, a few tiny clicks from her joints, she crashed into a heap on his arm. She gently grabbed his hand, entwined it with her own, and directed it to her soft breasts.

"Good morning." Verona mumbled as she nestled deeper into his body, a leg wrapping around his. "Or. Husband, I should say." she let out a cute laugh as they watched Kal lazily roll onto her front. "I wonder if...doesn't matter. How was your night?"

Anton kissed her deeply, one eagerly returned. "Amazing. Absolutely incredible. You both were. How about you?"

Verona used her free hand to rub one of her legs. "Well. I'm starting to get feeling back into them after what you two did to me. But, to answer your question, I don't ever want to be away from you again. I'll let that be my answer."

Kal murmured in agreement. She slowly stretched her body out, raising her impressive behind into the air as her legs stretched out to their utmost. Both digitigrade feet flexed their claws and toes as they dug into the soft bed. Her tail twirled and flicked about in the air before floating over Anton’s chest, the three fan end near his free hand. As he gently stroked the soft limb she lowered her back and pushed out her front, accentuating her breasts. She moaned as she fell into a heap next to him, her face lying in the crook of his arm.

"It was an amazing night." Kal murmured as she slid down the bed. She raised her hand, the wedding ring on proud display, and smiled at the sight. "I have to keep reminding myself this isn't some crazy dream that I've fallen into. And that I'm not going to wake up back in my cell in Seocuria."

Anton gave her a quick kiss before turning his attention to the magnificent tail lying on his chest. As he wrapped his arm around Kal's waist and began to play with the end she moved it away just out of his reach. She did this when she was being playful. Both digitigrade feet rose through the sheets, casting them aside, and bounced idly in the air. Nobody said anything for some time as they simply enjoyed the touch and presence of one another.

"I would love for nothing more than to lay here with the both of you for the next couple of hours and enjoy this scenery." Anton squeezed them both and pulled them onto his chest, neither resisted and only helped each other manoeuvre themselves on top. "But we can't stay for too long." Both pouted dramatically, it was a little strange to see Kal doing it alongside Verona. "Because, if we do stay here." Anton squeezed their shapely rumps. "It's going to be quite a while before we're ready to go."

Verona laughed as she rose up, sliding off his chest and onto the bed. "We understand." she frowned as she pushed down on the soft bed, her hands pushing down a considerable way. "Though it was amazing to sleep on a bed this soft. We have to get one for our house. I don't care how we do it but we need to do it."

Anton smiled and pulled himself, and Kal, upright to land a kiss on Verona. She returned it slowly and gently, unlike her normal self, before she pushed herself back. Judging from her body she would have been unable to stop herself from pushing him back down in a few more seconds if they continued.

"We're getting that armour before we go on that job?" Kal asked as she wrapped her tail around his shoulders and allowed Verona to play with the fan ends. "I...I'm kind of excited to see what I'll look like. Even though I need to keep wearing the mask."

"I'm excited too." Anton said as he gave them both a quick kiss and pushed them to the edge of the bed. Kal retracted her tail before he accidently pulled on it, something he guessed was very painful. He and Verona had tried extremely hard not to pull on the tail, even during their most adventurous session. It would have ruined the night if they did. "At least nobody will think that we are poor...though they might think that we have something worth robbing now." He shrugged as he hopped off the end of the bed and began to put on his clothes, quickly followed by Verona and Kal. "If it's not one thing it's another. Though, Verona, I didn't know your hair was going to be this much of an issue in Graterious. Kind of pissed of that they're giving you so much shit and there's not much we can go about it."

Verona scoffed as the hurriedly pulled her shirt on. "I know, right? They take one look of my hair and they make all these grand assumptions about me. Like I'm going to be like one of those Deweth Clansmen people; raping, pillaging and murdering my way through the city." she sighed as fastened her pants tight and looked up at Kal. "I understand, a little better, what you go through every day. Not that much but...fucking hell it's shit."

Kal could only smile back. As Kal started to wind the cloth wraps around her arms she looked at Anton. "I'm guessing that those sort of things still happen where you come from?"

"Did, does, and I'm sure it'll continue long after we're gone." Anton gave Kal another small kiss. "And I'm hoping that, in this world, one day beast-kin and humans will be able to walk together without hating each other. Though that may not be in our lifetimes."

Kal sighed again. "It would be nice to be able to walk with you both outside without fear, where I can feel the wind and sun on my face just as you do. When we get back home at least..."

"We've still that chasm to deal with before we can get even ourselves back home, not to mention the other slaves." Verona turned to Anton. "You said that you had an idea to get around that thing?"

Anton nodded. "Yeah. While I was thinking around getting these rings, and what Kal did to make it fit, I thought a bit more about the prayer power. Up until now I've been a bit hesitant to use it, since it takes so much mana to do one thing and I didn't want to be without my magic if disaster struck. Anyway, thinking about what I did to those packs and the communication pens, I was thinking of making some kind of teleporter."

Verona and Kal stopped and looked confused at him. Verona finished pulling on her pants, gave a quick glance at Kal who was half way through wrapping a hand, then cocked her head.

"What's that?" Verona asked. "Is that something from your world?"

"Umm...sort of. I mean, when I left there weren't any. But the idea is to move from one place to another instantly. So we could move back to Atros right now and come back here in an instant."

"Okay. I think I get it." Verona nodded, Kal also nodded. "So how would we go about making one?"

"I don't really know. I'm guessing that it'll involve the prayer power. But I don't know how to set it up in the first place. Is it a mark I make on the floor? A circle of stones? A metal plate or a pool that you walk into?" Anton shook his head. "This is why we need to see about getting into the magical academy and see if they have any clues on how to use this power. I'm just stumbling in the dark and I want to keep my mana reserves as high as possible at all times."

Verona grumbled. "And to get those clues we need to get into the magical academy proper. Which, they aren't just going to let us do. So we really need to stand out if we're going to get their attention before we leave for Seocuria. Nobody has tried to collect using yet, like in Maxill."

"I'm sure they're watching us." Anton said. "Virgil's employer would have undoubtedly heard about us and, even if he doesn't believe it, he'll want to keep an eye on us just in case."

"Anton." Kal began, a hand gripping hard on the end of her shirt. "If...If we want to get noticed, and in a good way...Can we try testing my powers? I haven't been able to do really anything with it and it's getting really frustrating. We were supposed to do it when we got back, but..."

Anton flushed as he nodded. He wouldn't forget that night in a long time. He focused himself on what happened when she received the blessing of Tethra; how she said finally, and how she had said before that felt weak compared to them, only able to fight with a bow and daggers while they could use powerful magic. Now she had her chance and she still couldn't test it. He had no idea how maddening that would be. They were also supposed to practice the moment they got back but temptation got the better of them. She didn't seem miffed about that though.

"We definitely will be..." Anton's mind raced over what they would be doing over the day. None of it was good for testing out the power of an Old God, and they probably wouldn't be here that night. There was no way they could practice safely surrounded by a large number of mercenaries. "Doing that right now. We won't have privacy any other time. So, let’s do some practice."

"Yes!" Kal exclaimed. Her hands were nearly thrown high above her head before her expression dropped. She hurriedly brought them down and coughed to cover the creeping embarrassment. "Right. That sounds like a...An excellent idea."

Verona started to chuckle and it wasn't hard to see why. As Kal wasn't wearing her cloak, or pants, it was easy to see her shapely behind and her tail trying desperately to wag in delight.

So much emotion goes through that lovely tail, and she can't show it off. Such a shame.

They moved to the table and took a seat. Verona, since there was no compatibility between their magics, sat on the opposite side to Anton and Kal and began idly picking at the dried and salted food left on the table.

"Okay." Kal stretched out her arms on the table. "I know that I can heal myself, or anyone else, pretty easily. But how can I use this power to fight? I don't want to be hanging back and just healing people. I want to be in there with you two."

"Well." Anton began. "I also used the prayer power to enhance our vision and eyesight. So it can do that too. I haven't tried to fight with it, not when I've got the lightning and fire magic."

Kal nodded but remained quiet. To Anton the prayer magic was to be used in a support role, and not as part of the front line. As he had the lightning and fire magic he hadn't put much thought into how to use the prayer magic to attack. Kal's eyes widened as she looked to her bow and quiver. Evidently she had some idea. She raced to the quiver and pulled out a single arrow.

Are there different sort of arrows, beyond what type of material they are made from? There’s harder metals than iron but they’d be really expensive. Anyway, I wonder what she's thinking.

"Okay." Kal placed the arrow in front of her. Verona lent over to get a better look. She threw them a quizzical brow when she saw it to be a simple iron tipped arrow. "Maybe. Maybe I could cast some magic onto the arrow, so when it hits something it'll burst into flames or throw out lightning or something." Kal smiled awkwardly as she looked up at him. "I'm using your powers as a guide for now."

"I haven't tried something like that yet." Anton admitted. "It could work, given what I've already done with the power. Only one way to find out."

As Kal placed her hands on the arrow Verona frowned again. "Could you infuse the arrow with healing? That would be interesting, if it could be done."

"I think it might send the wrong message." Anton replied. "A wounded soldier wouldn't want a bow pointed at them, no matter who was holding it. And then getting hit only to have their wounds heal themselves. I’f this works it could work."

"I suppose." Verona went back to picking at the food.

Kal closed her eyes and placed a hand over the head and tail of the arrow. "Okay Kal, you can do this." her face turned into a light grimace when she realised she had spoken aloud. "Tethra, goddess of prayer, I ask you to infuse this arrow with the power of flame. For this arrow to burst into flames when it finds its target."

Again Anton could not see if it worked. Kal took a deep breath as she raised her hands. Over the small iron tip of the arrow a swirling mixture of red and white grew. There was no discernible pattern but it was very similar to the glyphs on his hand.

Kal exhaled a deep breath. "That was interesting. I felt the mana flow out of me and into the arrow. Is that what of feel every time you use your magic?"

Anton nodded. Verona shook her hand as she gnawed on a piece of dried meat. "Not really for me. My power seems to be a little different to yours. I need to...light a fire within me first. Then I can use my magic. That's the best way I can describe it."

Kal nodded no looked back to the arrow. Anton lent over and delicately picked it up.

"It looks like it should work." he said, taking great pains not to touch any of the swirling marks. "We definitely don't want to test it in here. We won't be welcome back." Verona gave a light chuckle. "But I'm guessing we'll have a chance to test this out when we retake that fort. How much mana did that take to make?"

Kal huffed and hummed before she gave a light shrug. "It's...really hard to tell. I don't think it used that much though."

Anton nodded as he placed the arrow back. He was glad that it didn't go off. A thought crept into his head as he looked at the white and red marks.

If Kal can do that, and not use much mana, while I still nearly used a third to make a wooden spoon from a tree branch...maybe Kal has a much higher affinity with Tethra's power than me. We should try and test it while we are relatively safe.

"How many more of these do you think you could make?" Anton asked.

"Quite a few more." Kal replied. "How many do you want me to make?"

"As many as you can until you've used half of your mana."

"Are we going to try and sell these?" Verona asked. "Make a bit of a name for ourselves?"

"It's a good idea." Anton replied. Kal looked a little concerned that she was being turned into an income source for him. "If these work really well we can sell them and use that money to free more slaves from Seocuria."

Kal appeared quite happy with the idea now. Anton turned to Verona, who returned an odd look. "And we can also invest in a much more comfortable bed."

"Yes." Verona smiled. "I would help make them if I could."

"Any ideas on what types you can make?"

"I...I've got a few ideas." Kal gave him a warm smile before retrieving her quiver full of arrows.

She placed the quiver by her leg and began to cast. Anton was quite stunned by the number of arrows she was able to infuse with magic. When she stopped ten fire and ten lightning arrows, a swirling purple and blue mark for the lightning arrows, lay in front of her. Both he and Verona were very impressed. Kal was a little flushed but equally happy with her efforts. Anton took a normal arrow and tried to infuse it with fire using the prayer power. It worked but took nearly an eighth of his power. While Verona and Kal looked happy with the result Anton was stunned at how much mana it took.

Something's definitely going on. It's not that I'm getting weaker, it's that Kal's really good at using the prayer power. Perhaps believing in Tethra for nearly twenty years, praying to her every night, has given her some increased affinity with the power.

Anton looked at the red marks of Verona's hand as she picked up Anton's arrow and compared it to Kal's. While Kal's white marks were hidden it gave him another thought.

I don't have those marks. Even Kal, who's only had the power for a few days, has it covering most of her upper back. Verona's covers most of her body, and I don't have anything like that. Shawn and Jocelyn have them too, despite being very new to the power…Maybe that's why it uses so much.

He looked down at the crystal embedded in his hand.

I still have the feeling that this crystal is the only reason I can use magic. Am I using my own mana to use magic or am I just using this to use magic? When the gods said that I was getting used to my magic did they mean this thing? We need to get into that magical academy, failing that into the Deweth Clans territory and ask some of their priests or scholars…They still worship the Old Gods.

“Anton?” Verona asked lightly. Her voice brought him back to reality. Both girls were looking rather worried at him.

“Just got a little distracted there.” he replied. “I don't think that I'll be able to do much of that. It used quite a bit of my magic just to make one.”

“But you could burn down half a forest if you wanted to.” Verona raised a silver brow. “I thought making an arrow would be so easy for you.”

Anton shrugged. “The prayer power has always used so much of my magic, no matter what I do. It took an eighth of my magic to make one arrow. I think that Kal's already got a better handle on the power than I do.”

Kal perked up, her ears pricked up, as she smiled but it quickly turned to a light frown. “You're just saying that.”

“No I'm not.” Anton smiled as he held her hand.

Kal smiled and picked up the arrows and dumped them in her quiver. “Now I can fight alongside you two now.”

“I wouldn't like to fight you with those blades.” Anton said. “You took down eight Orcs by yourself.”

Kal chuckled as Verona clapped her hands as she finished off the last piece of dried meat. “The three of us will be unstoppable now. So, are we going to go?”

Anton nodded. “Yep. Otherwise I'll be pushing you both down in a few minutes and then we won't be going anywhere soon.”

Verona and Kal flushed as they gathered their remaining equipment. Kal equipped her bow and Verona took her spear. Both were a little hesitant to touch the weapons, after Anton cast the security prayer over it, but nothing happened to them. Verona frowned at the red crystal on the top of the spear. It was very bright and looked like it would sell for an incredible sum. She took a spare piece of cloth and wrapped it around the crystal head. Now there was no way to know what was hidden beneath.

“Anton.” Kal gently tugged on his hand. “What do we do about our packs, and horses? We can't take them with us. We’ll be fighting to take back a fort and we really can’t use them. And if we bring them with us they’ll just get stolen.”

Verona nodded as she moved to their side, fastening the last of the metal clips on her chest armour. "I think I'm going to need something like this underneath that new armour. Getting distracted because these things are giving me back pain again is the last thing I need. Or throws me off balance." Verona mumbled in a barely audible whisper. She gave a final thump on her armour and looked at their collection of packs. "That magic that you put on them is still working. Right?"

"Let me just check." Anton lent down and spoke the prayer again. It felt like he was adding mana to the pack. He wasn't entirely sure if the security prayer needed to ensure it continued to work but a boost to its strength and effectiveness couldn't hurt. The mana that he used was only a little bit more than making the enchanted arrow. Again the Prayer power used so much mana and was wildly inconsistent in how much it used to perform different actions. He needed to get a better understanding of the power.

"Right." Anton said as he stood up. "Nobody will be able to get into these without turning bright blue and receiving quite a nasty shock. It didn't feel like it even lost any strength when those two idiots tried to open it. I think Tethra might have helped out and altered the prayer so the packs used Earth mana to work."

Verona nodded. "That's good to know. I was thinking we just rent this room for a few more days. About...eight at the most. We can tell them to clean the place up but not to touch the bags or anything else." A smirk graced Verona's face. "They'll definitely know why they shouldn't touch things that don't belong to them."

She was still miffed the Inn's workers had tried to go through their things. So was he, and he was certain Kal was as well.

"We'll pay them for the additional nights, minus the food, and tell them not to touch anything. Hopefully that'll be enough. Or we'll get the rooms for free so we don't complain about what happened." Both girls nodded to his words. “So…" Anton clapped his hands. "Are we ready to go?"

Kal nodded as she donned her mask, her white and green mask hiding her expression, while Verona frowned lightly.

"What about breakfast?" Verona asked. "You and I can get something as we go but it's going to be pretty hard for Kal to eat outside. And we haven't eaten anything since...since last night. Well, I have."

"I'll be fine without breakfast."

"No." Anton cut Kal off. "Verona's right. We'll have some before we go. We've still got some dried food with us. We'll have some of that now and take the rest with us. Who knows if there's going to be provided food on this job?"

"Good point."

They settled down at the table and enjoyed a quick meal of their dried food and what was left of the Inn's food before going over their gear one more time. As they were about to exit Anton stopped them.

"What's wrong?" Verona asked, leaning her spear against the door.

"Our...I really mean your, weapons." Anton reached for the bow on Kal's back. Even though it was fastened it came loose relatively easily. "There's a chance that with these weapons, and our new armour, that someone is going to try and steal them."

As he handed back Kal's bow she nodded. "And you’re thinking of something more than just keeping a good hold of them."

"Yeah." Anton spun Kal around, much to her surprise, and felt near where the bow was attached. When his hand travelled down and, just before he reached her butt, he felt the unmistakable coils of her tail wrapped around her waist. "If someone tries to steal your bow, and they feel that..."

"They'll know right away." Kal groaned as she rubbed her behind. "I can't hide it any other way, and I'm not going to get rid of it."

"Fuck no." Anton blurted out, surprising himself most of all. "I love your tail." Kal stammered at his words, a foot started scratching at the floor, much to his and Verona's amusement. "I was thinking that we do the same thing to them that we did to our packs. Make it so that anyone who touches them gets a massive jolt of lightning that'll send them flat. It worked with the packs so it should work with the weapons."

Verona nodded as she handed him her spear. "I'll have to leave that to you two again. My magic can't do that."

Anton looked at Kal as she held the bow in her hands. "Do you feel like you have enough mana? If you don't its fine. I've still got most mine and I don't want you passing out on me."

Kal looked at the white bow for some time. Finally she shook her head and handed it over. "Making those arrows used a little over half my magic and I don't know how fast I recover my mana."

"You made twenty." Anton rubbed her head, over her mask. "That's pretty impressive.”

Kal chuckled and gave a tiny nod. Anton focused on the weapons in his hand, speaking aloud a prayer to make anyone, baring them, who touched it receive a massive and debilitating jolt. The mana left him, so too did his breath. Even though he spoke the prayer aloud it took nearly all his mana. His vision blurred and his head spun as the weapons fell from his hands. Verona and Kal lunged for him, preventing him from smashing into the ground, ignoring the weapons as they bounced on the floor.

"You okay?" Verona asked, the worry clear in her voice and face. "What just happened?"

"I..." Anton coughed harshly, it was like sandpaper had attacked his throat. "I just said the prayer and it took nearly everything away from me." He looked over at their weapons. Neither had looked to them when he fell, for that he was a little happy for. "I know it worked...but not why it took so much." He gave a glance at the white prayer glyph on his hand before he stood back up.

Standing was a lot easier now, at least with the world no longer trying to spin around him. Kal gave his hand a squeeze, which he returned to let her know he was alright. Both girls retrieved their weapons with more than a little hesitation. When their hands touched them, and nothing happened, they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Verona looked relieved that everything was fine while Kal let out a faint groan. She raised her mask and inspected the bow extremely closely. When she found nothing a deep frown formed on her face.

"Why did that happen?" she asked, her bright green eyes searching his. "You completely healed my body and that made you fall over a little because you were nearly out already...the packs..." an idea was forming in her mind, Anton thought it best not to interrupt. "When...When you gave the magic lessons to Shawn and Jocelyn you said you couldn't...infuse a weapon with magic."

Anton nodded, doing so made the world spin a little again. He found a nearby chair. With the weight off his legs the spinning stopped.

"I'll get you something to drink." Verona placed her spear against the wall and raced to the small table of food. On it were several wooden jugs filled with water. As she poured some Kal continued to frown at her bow.

"What did you say happened?" Kal asked.

"It felt like it just sort of bounced off." Anton began. "That was with the fire and lightning power. I think that Shawn and Jocelyn might be able to make something out of it, if they are able to pour their magic in while the weapon is being made. Maybe. But we could get the arrows to work with the prayer power."

Kal nodded. "I...I think I might know what happened. If you don't mind me saying."

Anton smiled as Verona came back with a small cup of water. She refused to give him the cup, instead pressing it against his lips.

"You know I can do that on my own?"

Verona smirked. "Yeah, but I don't get to do this often so I'm going to take this chance."

Anton sighed and relented, much to Verona's enjoyment. When he was done she was nearly skipping as she moved back to the table. Kal gave him an odd look, to which he smiled.

"So, you were saying?"

"I...um...yes. I think I know what happened." Kal scratched idly at her face. "From what little I know I think it has to do with the words of the prayer."

Anton threw up a brow, Kal immediately threw up both hands.

"I'm not saying that you did it wrong." Kal blurted out. "Or you don't know what you're doing. I-"

"Kal." One word was enough to stop her. Already she was looking a little nervous. "Come here." Kal took a deep breath and hesitantly walked towards him.

Does she think I'm going to do something bad to her, or yell at her, for suggesting that I got something wrong? The horrors of Seocuria still linger...

When Kal was a meter away Anton stood up and pulled her into an embrace. She was a little startled initially but she very quickly melted in his arms, her clawed fingers gripping at his elbows. Eventually she pushed him away and lent her head onto his chest.

"I..." Kal shook her head. "No. You don't want me apologising for things I didn't do wrong."

Anton shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong." Kal remained still for some time before Anton coughed and held Kal's hands. "So, what do you think happened?"

Kal took a deep breath, now filled with confidence, and looked at Anton's glyphed hand. "I think it was what of were asking the prayer to do. With the packs you made it so that only people that tried to open it would be hurt. They could have touched and moved it and they would have been fine. You made the prayer, on our weapons, hurt anyone that touches them that isn't us, but not if they were stealing them. I think that we could just tap them on anyone and it would give them a blast of lightning, even if they kept their hands to themselves. Maybe because it has to do so much more than just stop thieves, maybe that's why it took more mana."

Anton nodded. "That makes sense..." Anton frowned, one matched by Kal. "But why didn't it use that much when you were making the arrows?"

Kal opened her mouth then hesitated. A sheepish smile crossed her face. "Either we use the power in a different way...Or that the arrows will only work after I've fired them from my bow. It didn't go up in flames when any of us held it."

But if it took so much mana to accidentally make those weapons how much would it take to make a teleporter? I need help to make that, beyond what Kal can add…I haven’t been able to really test out the tethering with the prayer power. Perhaps linking them all together at once…but I’ll need a lot more power or a better way to cast the magic. We need to get into that Academy.

"That it didn't. Well, it's a good thought." Anton gave her hands another squeeze before letting go. "It's something that we'll need to look into when we've got more time. Thankfully I can still do some healings without much issue so that's enough for me. Sometime in the afternoon, when we’re on the trip to the fort, I'll change the prayer on the weapons when I've got more mana and I don't want either of you to go through what I just went through. But right now we have shopping to collect."

Even though neither Verona nor Kal had been shopping but both seemed very excited. Like two normal happy girls about to go on a date.

---[]---

The owner of the Inn was very helpful in their predicament. Almost too helpful. She insisted they pay nothing for their extended stay, especially after learning they wouldn't actually be in the room. It was not Anton's plan to not pay and demand a free stay but it worked out in the end. After that it was a short walk through the busy streets, everywhere they looked was teeming with human activity, to reach the armoury store they placed their order the day before.

Once inside the chaos of the streets of Porswea vanished. The only thing they could hear were the clinks of metal gently lowered against more metal. Quite a few people were present today, Anton could see about ten perusing the isles of armour, and no one was waiting at the counter.

"Let's go see if our armour is ready." Anton said as they started walking forward. "They must have worked into the night if they got them done by now."

"If it's adjusting the size it shouldn't take too long." Kal said. Anton looked back, Kal tugged at her shirt underneath her armour. "I made this fit me, even though it was too large when I got it."

"That's sort of what I'm getting at." Anton looked forward and took a step to the side as he nearly wandered into a rack of metal chest pieces. "I mean we chose those types of armour because they were strong, much stronger than cloth or just this hardened leather. How are they supposed to work them in such a short time?"

"What were those swords made out of?" Verona asked before she snapped her fingers. "Adamantium. They could have used Adamantium scissors...or something. Adamantium needle and thread?"

Anton smiled as he looked forward. Verona's snap caught the attention of Johnny, the flamboyant man, who emerged from the room behind the counter. It took him a moment to recognise them but the moment he did a massive smile graced his face.

"I'm so glad to see you." He began, Anton instantly remembered the effect the man put into his voice. "It's always good to see a paying customer."

Anton smiled as he reached the counter and rested his arms upon it. Verona did the same, though it made her look a little small, and Kal remained very close between them. Anton looked around. He could see quite a few more people perusing the racks of armour.

"These people aren't purchasing?" He asked quietly.

Johnny lent forward and took a quick glance either side. "Most of them are just looking. But...a few of them are buying, not to the same level that you three are."

"They aren't stealing?" Verona asked. "After what happened yesterday?"

Johnny shook his head. "No. No one has tried anything after that. Probably tomorrow."

"By the way, what happened to those thieves?" Anton asked.

"The city watch arrested them. And now they're going to spend the rest of their days mining salt." Johnny shrugged, a little sadness in his motions. "Not that it'll be a particularly long life. But that was their decision."

An awkward pause followed. Johnny's fingers tapped on the counter before he clapped them together. "There's no point in thinking too much about that now. You are here for your armour, yes?"

"Is it ready?" one of Kal's hands gripped on Anton's shoulder as she leant around him. "I want to be out of these and into something better."

Johnny studied her mask for a second before he nodded. "That we do madam. I'm sure that you'll want to get changed right away and into your new armour. We can have some privacy back here."

Johnny waved for them to follow him through the room behind the counter. Anton took the lead with Kal safely in the middle.

"Where is your friend?" Anton asked. "I believe his name was Fergus?"

"I'm here." a voice called out. Fergus's head poked out from behind the wall, a small smile on his face. "We just got them finished before you got here. It was a little more difficult than I thought it would be."

"I guess that's why we picked it." Verona said quietly. "If it was easy to cut then it wouldn't be any good for us."

"True." Fergus replied. When Anton peered around the wall he saw the large man working on a green armour set. The metal looked to be Bosciycium, an exceptionally hard metal far stronger than iron, while he had no idea what the leather was made from. If anything it looked a little like crocodile skin. When they passed Fergus stopped working and followed behind. Johnny brought them to a halt in the next room. This appeared to be the main workshop of their store. One side of the building was filled with crates and boxes, the other had many armour items splayed out over some large wooden tables. Anton scanned them and found three armour sets next to each other that looked exactly like what they had ordered.

"I take it these are ours." Anton began walking towards them. On closer inspection they looked nearly identical to what they were before, but he could just make out some new seams where the armour had been cut and adjusted.

"Yes they are." Johnny nodded happily. "I'm certain you will be happy with them."

Anton ran his hand over the hide of his armour. He could tell that it was extremely strong.

This will help solve the problem that Alfred was talking about. Mages don't have much strength up close so this should give me a fighting chance. Though if I've run out of mana I probably won't be able to stand up let alone swing a sword. Still, this is good. Very good.

"It looks amazing." Verona squeaked in delight as she touched her leather armour. "I know that we are going to look so awesome in these."

Kal nodded as she inspected her own. Anton checked his out and was very impressed with their work. There was almost no way to tell these had been adjusted from the sets they saw the other day.

“We'll need you to try these on here.” Johnny said happily. “We don't want those to be ill fitting when you go out to fight.”

“While you do that I'll keep an eye on the store.” Fergus gave a nod towards the front. “Don't want another incident like yesterday.”

Johnny gave him a sweet little wave before turning to them. “We have a small storage room back there if you wish to get changed. I don't have interest in women but I can understand the concern to be seen naked by a stranger.”

Verona decided to go first. She gathered together her sections of armour and, like a giddy young girl trying on the latest fashion, ran towards the closet to get changed. The wordless tune, that she sometimes sang when she was happy, emanated from her lips as she closed the wooden door to the supply closet. They waited in silence for a little while before the door opened but Verona had yet to emerge.

"Okay." Verona called out. "I'm coming out. Please don't make fun of me."

"Come on out and show us." Anton said.

"Okay." her words were hesitant and nervous, something he rarely heard from her.

There was a final cough before Verona stepped out and into their sight. Gone was the old and worn cloth that made her look a little like a beggar. Now she looked like a new woman. The Grey Emperor Wyrm hide clung loosely to her body, hinting at the seductive curves underneath, and covered every inch of skin from her neck down. The white wolf fur, which Anton knew covered the inside as well, stuck out the top and lightly cradled her face. She moved her head slightly to get a better feel of the fur. To completely hide the glyph marks that licked at her jaw line she continued to wear the wrap of cloth for a scarf. Since they were buying expensive new gear they could spare a few coins on something a little better.

"So…How do I look?" Verona asked with a teasing voice, leaning forward and idly running a dark leather gloved hand through her hair.

"Amazing." Anton replied. "Utterly amazing."

"I'm a little jealous." Kal replied. "No one is going to mess with you now. You look like a really tough woman."

Verona flushed a little as she straightened up and laughed. "I thought so too. I was just a little nervous to hear what you would say, that's all."

"How does it feel?" Johnny asked.

"Pretty good." Verona began to stretch out her body. The armour made a little noise as it bent and stretched but it seemed very flexible. "The fur is really soft against my skin. Tickles a little but I'm going to get used to that."

"Are you naked underneath that?" Kal asked.

Verona shot her a wicked grin. "No. But I am down to my pants and the bra strap." She looked at Johnny. "Just that this doesn't do that great a job of holding my breasts right. And it's kind of uncomfortable without the support I used to have from the old armour. How did I manage to walk up straight before?"

"Too large." Anton heard Kal grumble. He playfully squeezed her hand, which she returned.

"I thought we did that right." Johnny rubbed his chin. "If you give us a little time we can-"

Verona raised her hand to stop him. "It's fine. I'm exaggerating a little anyway. I just need to make it a little easier to deal with these two. I have a few ideas."

Everyone knew what she was talking about. Verona performed a little twirl on her new boots before dashing to Anton's side. She manoeuvred his arm to wrap around her and looked to Kal. "Alright Kal. You're up next."

Kal nodded, scrunched her fists, and followed Verona's word. As she picked up her differently coloured armour pieces Anton freed himself from Verona, receiving an odd look in response.

Anton lent down to her ear. "I'm going to wait by the door, just in case something goes wrong. You know..."

Verona nodded before pulling his head down to hers. The new leather gloves gave her a surprising amount of grip. "What do you think she's going to look like?" she asked in the faintest whisper.

"Like a very sexy kitty cat." Anton replied. Verona laughed and slapped his thigh before pushing him gently to the door.

Kal took a deep breath as she closed the door. Anton felt a little silly for standing near the door as Verona and Johnny looked blankly at him. Thankfully there was a knock on the wood from inside.

“Um, Anton, can you give me a hand?”

Anton gave a small nod before slipping behind the door. Kal stood nearly completely fully dressed. She looked amazingly beautiful. Right now she wore all her armour, and looked like she was a terrifying sniper on a battlefield, but her beast-kin digitigrade feet were still exposed to the light.

“These boots don't really work.” Kal grumbled unhappily. “They look really good but it feels like my feet are constantly sliding back and forth and it's really uncomfortable.”

Anton knelt down and looked at the boot. “Okay. What can we do?”

“I need support on my feet if I'm going to wear human boots.” Kal said. “So, I could just use the cloth wraps to pad them out...”

“Let's give that a go.”

Anton and Kal picked the softest looking pieces of cloth and stuffed them into the boots. It took a little work but they managed to work something out that appeared to be workable. Anton took the boot and helped her slide it onto her feet. She flexed both feet, and jumped into the air a little, and seemed satisfied by the result.

“This feels pretty good. I'll make some adjustments as we go but this is good.” Kal donned the white and green mask. “I feel really powerful now. I couldn't possibly get something like this last winter. All this in under a few seasons.”

Anton gave her hand a squeeze, secured in the surprisingly soft black leather gloves, which she returned. Kal quickly spoke another verse of her mantra and opened the door. Verona gasped at the sight, not feigned in the slightest, and Johnny gave a small nod.

“Very good.” Verona hurried towards Kal and held her hands. “They're really soft too. Can you use your bow with this?”

Kal nodded. “I should be. I use my fingers and not my...” she coughed loudly. “It'll be fine.”

Verona nodded and looked at Anton. “She looks really awesome right now.”

Anton couldn't disagree. Just by looking at both of them now he knew he wouldn't want to tangle with them. Perhaps the incident at the Mercenary Guild wouldn't have happened.

“Now there's just you.” Verona smiled as she handed him his armour. “I wanna’ see you looking good too. Can't have you looking like that with us.”

Anton smiled as he retreated to the closet and donned his new armour. He didn't have the Winter Wolf fur like Verona but the Brackenlace cloth felt surprisingly good on his skin, far better than what he used to wear. Only time would tell if it would rub him raw. Hopefully he wouldn't have to be doing too much running about. With every piece firmly secured on his body, looking like a slightly darker version of Kal's armour, he took a deep breath before stepping outside.

Verona smiled, even gave a small whistle, while Kal nodded furiously.

“You look good.” Verona admired as she approached and ran her hand over his armour. “Really good.”

Kal poked the Grey Emperor Wyrm hide sections on his chest. She seemed very satisfied by the result.

“I feel a lot stronger now.” Anton admitted as he rotated his arms. “I think only your spear could pierce through this now.”

Johnny's eyebrows raised dramatically. Anton smiled as Johnny chuckled and shook his head. “When you said that I had a very different idea.” Johnny glanced at Verona's crotch for just a moment before snapping back up to Anton. “My mind tends to wander at inappropriate moments. I think that you probably want those Brackenlace cloaks now, along with some helmets to protect your heads.”

Johnny turned around pulled out three dark green cloaks, with a large hood, and handed them over. “These are a few older pairs. They're aged quite a bit so they're very strong and resistant. You can have these for free. They're just taking up space.”

They took the cloaks and wrapped them around their necks. Kal very quickly fitted hers and helped Anton and Verona with theirs. Johnny looked very impressed.

“Okay. You all look very dashing right now. Unfortunately I can’t just let those helmets go for free. They will cost you some money.” Johnny opened a small wooden crate near the door. Fergus peered around to investigate the noise but smiled and retreated when Johnny gave him a tiny nod. He retrieved three metal and leather helmets. The green metal looked very similar to some of the armour they had back in Atros. A very strong metal called Bosciycium. “These have Bosciycium bracing running throughout the helm so they'll be able to absorb just about any blow. It's also pretty dark so there's no chance of you being spotted when you're sneaking around.”

“That's very good.” Kal said. “I might have a bit of trouble with mine.” Kal's hands lightly scratched on her mask.

Johnny nodded. “I'm afraid there's not a lot that I can do for you there.”

Kal placed the helmet on her head and adjusted it so it didn't interfere with her mask. It appeared to work out relatively well. Anton and Verona donned theirs as well.

“Now we're really tough.” Verona puffed out her chest, a wide grin on her face.

“That'll cost five silver rings.” Johnny smiled warmly.

Anton retrieved a gold coin and handed it over. “That should cover everything. Thank you for everything. Oh, by the way, do you know anything about armour that can inhibit magic?”

Johnny shook his head. “I'm afraid that we don't have those sort of things. You're looking for something like a protective amulet. All of which are strictly controlled by the Academy and Lord Cassius. There's no way that you could get one of those without knowing someone near those two.”

“Okay. We don't need the old armour and clothes. I don't know if you want them...”

“We'll sell them.” Johnny nodded. “It'll help someone just starting out. Even though they look a little old and worn I can see they're pretty tough for what they are.”

“Well, thanks for everything. I wish that everything goes well for you two.” Johnny nodded to Anton's words and allowed them passage out of the back room.

Fergus looked very impressed by their attire as they passed the counter as three armoured women stood at the counter buying a new set of iron armour. All three gave Fergus a small wave as they passed through. Anton stopped and shook Fergus's hand, so too did Verona while Kal gave him a tiny nod. Fergus smiled and returned the nod.

“Good luck with everything you two. Thanks for everything.” Anton yelled back as they exited the building, he hoped that everything would go well with them both, the tiny chime jingling as they re-entered the bustling armoury district.

Anton felt so much more confident with his new set of armour, Verona and Kal looked equally more confident. It was amazing what a change in attire could do for their sense of self-esteem and confidence. Even though most people would only see the cloaks and their faces peering from underneath their hoods it still made Anton feel a lot better about himself. Verona’s smile looked like it was about to rip off her face and Kal kept brushing a hand over her backside. Anton looked and couldn't see movement but obviously Kal was struggling with containing her delight at her newfound attire. It was probably the most expensive thing she had ever owned.

Verona was the first to speak. "It looks like we've got a bit of time on our hands before we need to be at the Guild." She glanced up at the sun. Anton guessed that it was a little before ten o'clock. "We should probably get something to eat for the trip."

Anton nodded. "We should get some more food to bring with us, just in case they don't have anything for the trip to the fort. And we can keep whatever is left over for the next phase of our journey." He squeezed Kal's hand. "How much do you know about what's edible in the wild lands of Graterious?"

"A bit." Kal replied. "I spent a good portion of my life in Graterious and living off what I could find. We shouldn't have a problem with food...but buying it already made will cut down on time that we would otherwise spend foraging. We'll be able to take more time resting and travelling..."

"Alright." Anton cracked a smile. "We might even be able to show those mercs a thing or two about cooking. I really want to try that mushroom soup again."

"I want to try it too." Verona grumbled loudly. Kal chuckled and her hand began to heat up in his. "But where do we get it? Oh, we'll want some extra skins for water. We're going to want quite a few of them. Ours are a bit old and leaky."

The water skins they had brought with them from Atros were good though they were finally showing their age. They were also the best that could be given to them. A few new ones would not go amiss.

"Let's head back to the mercenary district." Anton said. "If there's all those mercs heading off beyond the city than there's a good chance that there will be businesses that will sell those supplies. It makes sense to have them close together." Anton shrugged lightly. "At the very least we'll be in the right area and be able to ask someone if we can't spot it quickly."

"We might have to buy another of one of those awesome kebabs to get directions." Verona tried her best to hold herself back from licking her lips but to no avail. Her appetite was nearly insatiable, outside and inside the bedroom. She shrugged as she pulled closer to Kal. "Who knows, we might even run into the six idiots again."

"I really hope we don't." Anton groaned dramatically, though his face leaked a faint smile. "I wonder if they'll puff up like a frog this time."

Anton puffed his chest out and started bouncing about like a human frog. Kal chuckled, and Verona smiled as she shook her head, as they both leaned their head against his shoulders as they moved silently through the busy streets.

---[]---

Unfortunately finding accurate directions involved the purchase of yet another kebab, not that Verona appeared to mind as she devoured it in a matter of seconds. The directions were simple enough and led to a large, open building, bustling with mercenaries, Graterious soldiers and civilians. Racks of food and other miscellaneous items filled the building. It looked very similar to a large open market stall from earth. Anton, once again, moved behind Kal and Verona in front as they entered the busy market building. Immediately they were assaulted by a torrent of noises, of hawkers trying to drum up sales, and the smell of cooking meet. Much to Anton's relief and Kal's judging by the tension in her shoulders, none paid them more than a quick glance. Kal's mask was relatively well hidden by the hood and Verona's silver hair was pulled back and hidden by the hood of her cloak. Nobody would know of her heritage or try and judge her.

It's still sad that they have to hide themselves from the world. I would love nothing more than to walk hand in hand with them down the street. Maybe one day it'll happen outside of Atros.

"What are we getting?" Verona asked, looking back and pulling the hood back a little to see better.

Anton looked over the stalls. Most of it look quite appetising but it would probably go off in a few days. He placed his hand on Kal's shoulder. "Any ideas on what sort of stuff we should get?"

"A good, healthy variety of anything that will last." Kal replied, a little happiness in her voice. She nodded to a stall a few down from where they stood. "Some dried and salted meat, quite a few nuts and some hard vegetables. They're going to go rotten first so it's important that we get the ones that will last the longest until we can find more. I think I can see some carrots. Those will be good to start with."

"If we don't have our veggies there's a good chance that we could come down with scurvy. That's something that nobody wants."

Verona turned around and raised a silver brow. It occurred to Anton that they might not know of the affliction that affected so many of the first long distance sailors of earth.

"Think of it as a deficiency of...healthy food." Anton answered. He also guessed they wouldn't know about vitamins and minerals. "Basically we need to eat some fruit and vegetables to keep healthy. We can't just live on dried meat."

Verona, satisfied with his answer, nodded and began walking to the stall. The selection on display was rather impressive so Anton took a moment to properly peruse before he made any decisions. After a few hushed exchanges they made their decision. Just as Anton was about to get the stall owner's attention a shadow moved beside them. The lowered light levels made it a little difficult to see but something about the profile of the person jogged his memory. More important was the patch of blue hair on the right side of their otherwise short black head of hair.

"Cetina?" Anton asked quietly.

The person twitched and looked towards him. Anton saw the grey eyes, flecked with purple, stare into his own for a few seconds before it dawned on her.

"Anton." Cetina said happily, a smile forming on her lightly scared face. "I never thought I would meet you somewhere like this. I didn't recognise you looking like that. You've got new armour. How are you? How are all three of you, I should say?"

Verona turned and smiled at Cetina, a shiver of annoyance ran up her spine that she had to look up at her, while Kal moved so Anton was blocking most of her back and any chance of someone accidently finding out who she was.

"We're doing great." Anton replied. "It's all gone really well for us." He saw Verona play with the silver ring on her finger. "Very well for us. How about you? Are you doing alright?"

Cetina hesitated before she answered. "Yeah. Things are going alright, considering what they were."

Something grated on the back of Anton's mind. Every word she spoke was accompanied by a tiny flash of pain over her face. Like she was recovering from a wound or bruise. The lack of light made it a little difficult to see and Cetina's skin was a light tan in colour so it could hide a bruise. She also didn't look straight at them, her head was tilted just enough to hide her left cheek.

"Is something wrong with your face?" Anton asked.

Again she hesitated. "No. I'm doing very well, actually."

Verona shot Anton a look. She did not believe her and neither did Anton. Cetina did not appear to be the best liar. Anton raised a hand and gently pushed Cetina's head to the side, she did not stop or say anything to his action, to show her left cheek. Underneath the light scars scattered over her face he could see the beginnings of a bruise. A very large one at that.

"Who did that to you?" Kal asked quietly.

Cetina bit down on her lip as she hung her head low. Anton heard the grinding of teeth as she refused to say anything.

"It wasn't Duran, was it?" Verona asked. Anton glanced down to see genuine concern on Verona's face. She didn't think it was likely but she wanted Cetina to say something.

Cetina frowned angrily as she looked back up. "Dad didn't do this."

"Then who did?"

Cetina shrugged as she sighed deeply. "It's not too hard to guess, is it?"

"But you got those two back." Verona moved forward to get a better look. "Right?"

Cetina glanced at Anton before she smiled bitterly. "No. As much as I would have liked to I didn't."

"After what we've seen you go through I wouldn't begrudge you if you hit them back." Anton shook his head. "I don't know why they pick on you. I wouldn't want to hit you. I know you're a very, very strong woman. Far stronger than they ever will be. And a better swordsman too."

Cetina opened her mouth to speak but decided against it as the tiniest hint of a flush rose over her face. "Um... Thanks. But that will probably be one of the last times I see them. I hope it's the last. So this bruise is nothing compared to what it has been."

"It didn't get better, did it?" Kal asked. There was a deep sadness to her words.

Cetina shook her head as she let out a deep sigh. “No. No, it got a lot worse. So much so that I had to get out of there. I listened to what you said and I knew it wasn't going to get any better if I stayed. I wanted to stay but I knew it was only going to get worse.”

She didn't elaborate on what that meant but Anton was not pleased to hear any of this. “What about your father? I thought he had finally grown a pair and was trying to fix this?”

Cetina shrugged and remained silent, with only the noise of the surrounding market to fill their ears.

“Did you have to leave behind your shield?” Verona asked.

Cetina grimly nodded. When they first met she had a large plain metal shield that she kept attached to her back. That was gone but her sword remained on her hip.

“Yeah. It...It hasn't been a good few days.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Anton asked.

Cetina nodded as she rubbed her bruise. “Yeah. I used the money you gave me to rent a room on the other side of Porswea. It's not much but it's better than sleeping on the streets.”

Kal nodded while Cetina sighed again. Anton vigorously rubbed his face. “Right. Well, we've still got the fort job in about an hour or so, and we don't have time to find and beat some sense into your father.” Cetina frowned but didn't stop him from speaking. “The moment we get back from reclaiming the fort we'll force some sense into your father. And deal with whatever happened to you.”

“You're going to retake that fort?” Cetina asked, a black eyebrow raised up.

“Yes.”

A faint smile drew over her scarred face. “So am I.” She chuckled as she reached underneath her metal chest armour and produced the same style of metal plate they had received from the Graterious Mercenary Guild. It looked nearly identical, other than it had the name Cetina de Yascar on it. “After...Afterwards I decided to join a mercenary guild, since I didn't know what else to do for money. One of the few things that I actually know is fighting. Apparently Virgil said something about me so it was really easy to get in.”

“No favours?” Verona asked.

Cetina flushed slightly as she put the plate away. “No. Thankfully there wasn't any mention of that. And if there was I would have turned around and joined someone else. There are quite a few of them in Porswea.”

“So long as you don't join the Red Company.” Kal said quietly. “No matter what.”

Cetina could only nod. Anton wasn't entirely sure if Kal's words were out of genuine concern for Cetina's wellbeing in joining such a deplorable and rowdy bunch or if it had to do with her wanted poster. Perhaps she feared that, upon knowing how much Kal was worth, Cetina might give into temptation and attempt to capture her. It was probably a combination of concerns.

“Do you want to come with us?” Anton asked, Verona throwing an odd look at him while Kal turned her mask. “We're about to head that way ourselves. It'll be good to travel with someone else we know. Someone that can fight really well.”

Cetina took a moment as she glanced between them. Her hand gripped tight on the pommel of her sword as a look of determination washed over her face. “Yeah. Sure, I'll come with you. You're the only people in Porswea that I know that I can trust. I know that I'll survive this thing if I'm with you three.”

An awkward smile graced her face as she scratched her head. She knew how powerful they were, it sounded a little like she was taking a free ride.

“What about a shield?” Anton asked, Cetina glanced over her shoulder. “When we fought the Ghlotsm you used it really well.”

Cetina smiled, forcing back the tiny hint of pain on her face. “I'll be fine. If the people at the guild were right there will be people selling equipment at the fort. I'll get one there. I’ve fought without one before and I did alright.”

“Okay.” Anton looked at the patiently waiting stall owner. “Let's get some food and water and then be on our way.”

Chapter 084. Vol 3 - Road to Battle

Chapter 084:

Anton spent only a few minutes with Verona, Kal and Cetina selecting their food and water supplies for the journey. Usually they would use their horses to carry their supplies but since they were not bringing them, just in case something happened to them and they had to deal with Dana’s fury, they picked things that were light and easy to carry. Thankfully the stall owner also sold some large cloth bags that Anton and Verona carried on their backs underneath their Brackenlace cloaks. The packs weren’t heavy so it wasn’t a problem. Once again Anton made sure both Verona and Kal were close by, Kal in between to limit any chance of someone discovering her Beast-kin nature. He also liked having them both within arm’s reach.

As they weaved through the people swarming the streets of Porswea something was bugging him. It wasn’t the people around them, and the potential for them getting too close, but someone that was following. Cetina walked behind by several long paces. More than enough distance for other people to weave in between them causing her to bob her head about to make sure she was following them. While she didn’t hold her head down she acted like she didn’t belong with them.

Anton frowned as he looked back at Cetina, her grey and purple eyes making contact with his. “Cetina, you don’t have to walk that far behind us.”

Cetina smiled, a faint hint of pain on her face. “I’m fine.”

“Come on.” Verona waved her forward. “Don’t be like that.”

Cetina sighed and picked up the pace. Anton had yet to get anything out of Cetina about what happened to her. While he wasn’t entirely confident that things would actually turn out for the better for her after they left he didn’t expect things to go so bad so quickly. The growing bruise on her face was disconcerting, considering he knew that she was a very strong woman underneath her relatively loose clothes.

“How much money do you have left?” Anton turned his head back to Cetina. “I take it they didn’t take any?”

Cetina shook her head now that she was just a few paces behind them. While she didn’t loom over them she was the tallest of them all, a few inches taller than Anton. “They didn’t know that I even had a coin to my name. I…I’ve never had any before. So I’ve still got most of it.”

Anton nodded. “That’s good to know.” Cetina smiled. “As soon as we get a moment I’ll heal that bruise…I’ll make sure to leave the scars, if that’s what you want.”

Cetina nodded. “That…It would be good if you could keep them. These mean quite a bit to me. I know that’s something stupid to say but it reminds me of the few good times I’ve had.” She idly rubbed her bruised cheek with her gauntlet.

The moment that we get back I’m going to have a long chat with Duran and those two women. If we need to we might need to take Duran with us so he gets away from them…Convincing him that Beast-kin are alright might be a bit of a stretch. One step at a time though.

“Once again I can’t do anything to help.” Verona chuckled as she shook her head. “Maybe I could use my power to heal…maybe. Knit wounds together with the blood…”

“Or keep someone’s heart pumping.” Anton added. “That could be useful.”

“Can it do that?” Kal asked.

Verona shrugged. “Who knows? I guess it’s kind of like the opposite of what Anton said, that I’ve only thought about using this to fight. But I don’t think anyone is going to let me practice on them.”

“Certainly not when you’re glowing.” Anton reached around Kal and squeezed her arm, Verona flashed a smile back.

“I don’t think a Blood Berserker is meant to be a healer.” Verona chuckled. “Not with that kind of name.”

They soon arrived at the mercenary district and found it to be bristling with activity. Armoured mercenaries swarmed through the district, hundreds of carts loaded with supplies made navigation through usually empty the plaza difficult. Anton directed all four towards the Graterious Mercenary Guild. Outside were hundreds of armoured mercenaries, some Anton vaguely recognised from the previous day, all with an air of nervousness and excitement around them.

“This definitely looks like the place.” Verona smiled as they slowly entered the crowd. “How are they going to move so many people?”

“Lots of carts.” Anton replied. “I remember that logistics, moving people and resources, is always a challenge. Especially in a place like this. Where everything is moved by beasts and where most people can’t read. It’ll be interesting to see how they manage it.”

Very few gave them anything more than a cursory glance, far less now they were wearing their hoods up. Most of the limited attention was directed at Cetina thanks to her height and unhooded helm, though her blue patches of hair were hidden by her iron helm.

“But.” Anton continued. “If Lord Cassius is as rich as I’m guessing he’ll have the resources to get enough carts to get these people there.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to ride another cart so soon.” Cetina wore a pained smile.

“Do you still have your horse?” Verona asked. Cetina shook her head and said nothing more. An awkward silence filled their space, once that Verona tried to fill. “Did they say we would be rewarded on how many Goblins we killed or if we just turned up?”

Cetina gripped the pommel of her sword. “If what they told me is correct it’s the second one. Though that’s why the people from the guild will be coming along.”

“To make sure we actually fight and don’t just hang back doing nothing.” Anton looked around. “They certainly would want their monies worth. And that’ll help us get noticed too.”

“Hopefully in a good way.” Kal quietly added.

“Why are you trying to get noticed?” Cetina asked. “Is it to get better jobs or fall in with the nobles and lords? Considering what you’re capable of.”

“Sort of.” Anton replied. “Sort of.”

He didn’t want to tell Cetina they were planning to head to Seocuria as soon as they were done here. Since she knew of Kal’s real identity it would only confuse her and throw up a myriad of difficult questions, ones they couldn’t answer in public. Cetina tentatively accepted his words but it was clear that she held some reservations about his response.

“I don’t see anywhere we are supposed to report in.” Anton mumbled as he scanned the idle mercenaries around them. “They were just making little marks on the paper when we signed up.”

“Are you three staying out of trouble this time?”

Anton recognised the voice but not to whom it belonged to. They all turned to the source and saw the two armoured mercenaries from yesterday moving through the crowds, the same two that helped them peacefully deal with the six scantily clad idiots from the other day. Anton took a moment to study them better. The man looked to be in his middle to late forties, a short brown head of hair with a few flecks of grey starting to show through. His armour, and that of his female companion, were a mixture of iron, Bosciycium, and hardened leather. Many scratches and scuff marks adorned the armour, marks that looked genuine and not made to give the appearance they had been in battle. At his side was a sword and a small shield attached to his back. The woman appeared to be the same age, a slightly weathered face with her short hair tied up in a ponytail. Anton saw the large Bosciycium mace on the woman’s back, she didn’t have a shield but the size of the weapon, and the woman wielding it, probably meant she didn’t need to worry about it.

“We are.” Anton replied, Verona chuckled at his words.

“That whole incident had nothing to do with us.” Verona added. “We were just trying to leave peacefully.”

Cetina threw up a black brow as she looked between them but didn’t ask what they were talking about as the two mercenaries approached.

The male mercenary smiled, a few teeth were missing, and raised both his hands. “You don’t need to tell me that. I understand completely that you did nothing wrong. I just didn’t want to be involved when the city watch turned up to deal with six dead bodies.”

Anton didn’t know if he knew they were mages or if he thought extremely little of the skill of the six idiots. Nevertheless he was grateful for his help. It could have turned nasty if they hadn’t shown up.

“Thanks anyway.” Verona smiled at them. “Do you know where we’re meant to go after arriving here?”

“Just wait a bit longer.” He replied. “We’ll be dragged off soon enough.”

“I don’t believe we caught your names last time.” Anton said to the two mercenaries. Both smiled and glanced at each other.

“My name is Citrio and this is Livia.”

Livia gave them a small wave as she smiled warmly.

“A pleasure to meet you both.” Anton nodded. He didn’t offer to shake their hands, just in case they started wondering why Kal wasn’t going to shake theirs.

Livia looked between all four of them. “I hope that your four know how to fight properly.” A wicked smile graced her face. “Better than those six whores at any rate. We’re going to be fighting thousands of Goblins tomorrow.”

“We’ve fought them before.” Verona replied. “They aren’t much of a trouble on their own but they can swarm you pretty easily.”

“That they can.” Citrio slowly nodded. “I’ve heard there’s more than just the Yellow’s and Green’s at the fort.”

“What other colours?” Kal asked.

“There’s meant to be some Black Goblins and some Orange and even some Purple ones are meant to be there as well.” Citrio shook his head. “That’s going to make things interesting.” He turned and smiled at Livia, his face cracking up into a demented smile as he looked beyond her. “Oh dear. This day just got a lot more interesting.”

“Why?” Cetina asked, moving closer to follow his line of sight.

They all tried to follow Citrio’s eyes. Anton sighed loudly, so too did Verona and Kal, while Cetina looked on confused. About ten people deep into the crowd Anton spied the bare back of one six idiots, the clean scars once again grating on Anton’s mind. All six wore the same clothing they wore the other day, none of it suitable for combat. They stood in a tight huddle, chatting with each other as their eyes nervously darted about. He wasn’t sure if they were genuinely nervous or they were wondering why they weren’t getting full attention. Or why they were even joining in this job if they were so nervous and underequipped.

“What are they wearing?” Cetina asked, her voice full of honest curiosity.

“The same crap they wore yesterday.” Anton replied, eliciting an odd look from Cetina. “I don’t think they’re actually fighters. Well, perhaps in the bedroom.”

The tiniest hint of a flush rose over Cetina’s face as she looked once more and the images flashed through her mind. Verona, Citrio and Livia chuckled at the sight of her embarrassment. Anton found it quite cute. Doubly so considering what she had been through the past few days.

One of the six, the one that made the pass at Verona, turned and looked in their direction. He made eye contact with Anton but all the bravado from yesterday drained from his eyes. Now they were on true even numbers, all heavily armed and armoured, they didn’t have the courage to try anything. Anton gave them a tiny wave and smiled warmly, something that only seemed to disturb the man as he looked away with a thinly veiled look of annoyance.

"Okay…” Cetina frowned lightly at Anton. “Did something happen between you guys?”

Verona groaned and chuckled simultaneously. “We’ll tell you on the way. It’ll be something to pass the time. Just always remember to wash your mouth when you’re done.”

“Oh dear.” Kal quietly mumbled as she shook her head.

Cetina only nodded in response, though it was clear she didn’t exactly understand what Verona was hinting at. Nevertheless, despite the opportunity to see Cetina even more embarrassed when Verona told her story, it might be a good opportunity to find out exactly what happened between her and her father.

A loud horn bellowed out through the plaza, silencing the idly chattering mercenaries.

“Here we go.” Citrio said, nodding to the source.

Anton could just see over the heads of some of the mercenaries and saw several hundred Graterious Soldiers, those looking like roman soldiers from their glory days, entering the plaza leading a new stream of large Ix pulled carts. These were considerably larger than the carts Anton was used to, something he guessed was the equivalent of a small truck in this world. They pushed a path through the mercenaries and began to circle through the plaza.

A much smaller whistle came from back towards the Graterious Mercenary Guild. The blonde man that worked at the job board stood upon a large crate to stand above them. He removed his hand from his mouth and clapped his hands loudly, the sounds of the wooden carts was only growing louder.

“Can I have your attention please?” he yelled, more asked politely with a firm voice. Nearly every mercenary present stopped and looked at the man. “I hope that everyone has gathered here. We’ll have a count when we’re on the move but right now we need to get moving.”

Several of the large carts stopped in front of them.

“Everyone please hop on and we’ll get on our way. Please…” There was almost a pleading to his voice now. “Please keep yourselves well behaved on our journey. We don’t need any fights breaking out before we get there.”

A few chuckles came from the mercenaries, a few looks were directed towards them, but all quickly moved to the carts. Anton grabbed Verona’s and Kal’s hands, both looked towards him in surprise as he led them towards the carts.

“We don’t want to get a bad seat.” He said to both girls. “The last thing we want to be is separated…”

Both nodded as they quickly moved to the front of the que and found a relatively empty cart. They moved to the front, placing Kal between them, and sat on the uncomfortable wooden seats.

“This is going to seriously ruin our butts.” Anton said as he thumped on the wooden seats. “I’ve got an idea. Verona, we’re going to need to borrow your cloak as well.”

Anton and Verona removed their cloaks and placed on the wooden seats. It wasn’t the best padding, the Brackenlace didn’t bounce too much, but it was better than nothing. At least they wouldn’t need healing when they arrived at the fort.

Cetina arrived next, looking a little sheepish, as she took the seat next to Verona. She glanced at Verona’s new armour, a barely disguised look of envy, as she tried her best to get comfortable. Cetina’s armour, a well-made iron chest piece, and arm and leg pieces, looked a little cheap compared to any of theirs. However hers had seen combat and kept her safe. That was far more important than looking good or expensive. Citrio and Livia sat on the opposite side as the rest of the cart filled with other mercenaries. The floor quickly filled with packs and crates, many not belonging to the mercenaries.

“Is that the food?” Anton asked.

Citrio threw up a brow. “Yeah. We’re only going to be gone for a few days so it’s not that hard to supply food and water. Did you bring your own?” Anton nodded. “Well, that’s a good habit to get into. You never know what could go wrong out there.”

Livia frowned as rested against Citrio’s shoulder. “You don’t want to be fighting over the last scraps of food when your miles away from people.”

Anton couldn’t disagree. That’s why they’d always packed so much, and collected what they could on the way, so they didn’t run out and run into real strife.

From Kal’s story Seocuria is meant to be a relatively dry place. Thankfully the boat will mean that we don’t have to worry about going inland. Still, it’s something we should always keep an eye on.

Another horn blasted through the mercenary plaza the carts began to rumble forward and out of the plaza.

---[]---

Their cart was void of all speech as they trundled out of the city of Porswea and travelled towards the north. To the north of the city the sprawling slums continued, perhaps even more extensive and rotten than the previous area. This time the residents kept well clear of the convoy. They took one look at the armoured convoy and decided that there wasn’t much chance for begging. Again Anton was overwhelmed by the smell of human filth, the girls were as well, but the mercenaries appeared rather tolerant of it. Perhaps they knew that in a few minutes they would be free of the smell.

Once free of the slums the land opened up into something Anton didn’t expect. Fields of crops and plantations spanned the horizon with hundreds of small farming hamlets dotting the landscape. The stone road, one quick glance revealed the stones were roughly cut into squares but tightly packed together, led them through several of the small hamlets. Many people, looking far better than those in the slums, at least lacking the haggard and desperate eyes, came out and marvelled at the precession going past. The hamlets looked poor, compared to the city of Porswea, but not destitute. A small wooden fence surrounded the hamlets, alongside many large huts and barns filled with boxes of grains, fruits and drying meat.

Something gnawed lightly at the back of Anton’s mind as they exited the hamlet. “Say, you two.” He looked to Citrio and Livia who were idly looking about. “Why doesn’t anyone in the slums just come out here and nick some food?”

“They do.” Citrio replied. “You didn’t see the wall on the way out?”

Anton looked back to Porswea. He could just make out ropes hanging from the top of the wall, bodies hanging from the bottom. There were hundreds of them on this side of the city.

Citrio nodded as he looked back to Anton. “Having those there keeps them in line. Makes them remember what’s waiting for them if they steal.”

“There’s that many thieves?” Verona asked.

“Not really.” Citrio smiled. “Some of them are thieves, yes, but most are prisoners or people that have died from sickness. They’re just there to keep them from doing something stupid.”

“Of course they could just join the army.” Livia added softly. “Or work the fields, or be a labourer. Something…”

“We’ll probably be meeting some of those willing to escape their wretched lives today.” Citrio looked back to Porswea. “At least they are willing to do something about their lives.”

“I doubt they’re going to look as good as the soldiers around us.” Anton nodded towards the driver of the cart. While the man steering the large creatures wore causal clothes the two next to him wore the bright encompassing roman styled iron armour. One looked back but didn’t linger for more than a second.

“They won’t have stuff like this.” Citrio lightly tapped his chest piece. “But they don’t want them to die by the thousands. If they’re lucky they’ll have some metal armour, but most will have to do with hardened leather…And making sure they aren’t hit.”

“We had leather armour before this.” Verona perked up. “It’s saved our lives quite a few times. Quite a few for me. So they should be fine, as long as they aren’t stupid or race into battle too early.”

Both mercenaries smiled, and quite a few more nodded as they listened in. A silence overcame the cart once again as they continued to roll through the countryside’s nearly endless plots of farms and plantations. Anton spied a glance to Cetina every so often. She had said nothing after taking her seat and simply stared at the wooden floor of the cart. She bounced and rocked back and forth with the cart but could have been dead if her mouth didn’t twitch in pain from the bruise. Finally he caught her looking up and returned a small smile, one that the bruise somewhat limited, but didn’t say anything and looked back down after a few seconds. It would be highly inappropriate to start discussing what happened to her now. Every other mercenary was silent and probably just waiting for something to start.

Every so often they came across a particularly large hamlet, possibly as large as Atros was now, and in the distance he could see the small trails of smoke rising into the sky. They weren’t as numerous or as thick as Porswea’s but there were other large cities out here. Graterious appeared quite heavily populated, at least in the south east of the empire. The idle thought stirred Anton into action.

“They said that it would be sometime tomorrow that we arrived at our destination.” Anton said like an open ended question. Again Livia and Citrio looked to him and smiled. “Since…Since we’ve been out of civilisation for some time, I was hoping that you could explain a few things for me.”

Both mercenaries nodded. “Sure.” Citrio replied. “We’ve got more than enough time to spare. What do you want to know?”

“Really just the basics, and an answer to a few stories that we’ve heard of.”

“Go for it.” Livia leant back into the cart and pulled out a small water skin.

“I know that this area is controlled by Lord Cassius, and that the Emperor of Graterious is called…Deciums, but I’m sure that he doesn’t have absolute control.”

“Thank every god.” Citrio coughed harshly. “If he was it would be worse than living in the Deweth Clansmen, whatever that’s really like.”

“Not the best leader?” Verona asked quietly.

“No.” Livia’s face turned a bit more sullen. “I actually feel bad for him. And his children. There’s…there’s something wrong with their heads.”

“Like…Are they silly or something more?” Verona asked.

“Something’s wrong in their heads.” Livia continued. “They’re crazy. Their whole family is crazy. It’s only thanks to people like Lord Cassius and Umbris that the whole place hasn’t descended into anarchy.”

“Who…I understand that Cassius controls the south western area of the empire, the maps that I’ve seen are pretty old and a little sparse on detail, but what territory does he control?”

There was a slight pause, barely perceptible, before Citrio answered. “He controls the eastern third of the empire. Good man, from what I’m told. He and Lord Cassius are very close and essentially allies.”

It’ll be good if we can get on Cassius’s good side. Put a good word into his friend and then we can get that boat…

“So who’s the third one?” Anton asked.

“Lord Vulusius.” Citrio replied. “I’ve seen the man before once. I didn’t get a good feeling from him. He’s not ugly, he’s a relatively normal looking man, but he’s got this look, like everything’s just a game to play. It freaked me out.”

“And he’s the other side of this civil war then?” Verona asked. “Lord Vulusius…and Emperor Decima against Lord Cassius and Umbris.”

“Yes. Though the Emperor is really only in power thanks to Vulusius. He’s an extremely rich man. More so than the Decima, Cassius and Umbris combined.”

“I’m going to hazard a guess here.” Anton began. “But he funds the Emperor so he can put forward whatever laws he needs to make more money?”

“Yeah.” Both replied simultaneously.

“Huh. I guess I was expecting something a little more original.”

Citrio shrugged. “What’s more original than wanting more money?”

Anton couldn’t refute that. That was something prevalent no matter which world he was in.

“His territory is to the north, bordering Seocuria. He makes a killing off using the Beast-kin to mine his gold and silver. And everything else.”

Kal’s fingers gripped on the cart but she held her composure. Anton only looked out his periphery, lest he attract any untoward attention.

“A very dangerous man then.” Verona folded her arms and looked out to the fields.

“Only if you cross him and expect to live.”

Verona smiled and nodded.

“I overheard someone hinting at why this civil war thing is about to kick off.” Anton began. “Something about messing with someone else’s family?”

Everyone in the cart grew very dark and withdrawn. By asking one thing it appeared they had become social exiles.

"Family is sort of an understatement." Citrio grumbled. "It's not a pleasant tale, if you really want to hear it."

Anton glanced to the other mercenaries. It was quite clear they did not.

"Just the quick version. Without the icky parts. Which it seems like there might be a few of."

Citrio stretched out his armoured legs and gently rubbed his chin. "Okay. So, Cassius had a daughter. And extremely beautiful one at that. A gorgeous face, dazzling green eyes and red hair that flowed in great waves. She had quite the body as well." Livia shot him a look but didn't interrupt. "She was to be married to the son of Lord Umbris."

"A political marriage?"

"Yeah. Fairly simple one at that. The boy seemed quite nice, a little weak and naive perhaps but a good person. Most amazingly they didn't hate each other." Anton raised a brow to that. Citrio chuckled again. "Well, they weren't in love, but they didn't hate each other. So that makes it miles better than most political marriages. Who knows, they may have fallen in love over time."

"As it's meant to be." Livia added. He caught Verona making a tiny nod.

"But it wasn't meant to be, was it?"

Now the mercenaries looked truly sad.

"No." Livia sighed. "No it wasn't."

"You see, Emperor Decima has a son. Many kids, actually, but this was the next in line to the throne. So you can imagine that people tend not to say no to the first prince."

That'll warp his sense of self. Everyone he meets exists to serve him.

"And he found out about this marriage. He saw her and wanted her. Long story short...and cutting out the icky bits...he did."

"Fucking disgusting is what it was." Livia barely held back her utter contempt for this prince.

"The young man committed suicide. But everyone knows he was poisoned by the Emperor's guard. The daughter lasted a few days later before jumping to her death. Right from the top of one of the capital's spires. She did actually jump...But the rumours say she was riddled with bruises. Ones that could not be caused by the fall."

"That... That sounds utterly horrifying."

"It was." Livia replied. "Cassius and Umbris were utterly furious, beyond simple political implications. Both had lost someone precious to them. They became firm allies after that. The next part of the story is kind of vague, it's only going off rumours, but both men demanded the prince be held accountable for his crime, something never heard of in the history of the empire."

"That's where Vulusius comes in." Citrio continued. "He, somehow, convinced Cassius and Decima not to go to war."

"Basically you're the aggressor and I have mountains more money than you." Livia added.

"Essentially, yes. Even though Cassius and Umbris had a much larger army, constantly fighting of the Clansmen or pirates and marauders, they chose to not fight. And by the time they realised what happened Vulusius had bolstered his army so they were now on equal terms and would destroy the empire as they wrestled to the death. And that... That pretty much brings up to now. Both sides are getting ready for all-out war but neither ready to take the first move. It's been like that for eight winters now and doesn't look like it's going to get better any time soon."

"So much death because of one person." Anton said aloud.

"It's the madness that afflicts the line of the Emperor's." Livia said. "It makes them go crazy. Men and women. Doesn't matter which. All are mad."

In these sort of times I'm sure it was lead or mercury that made people crazy. The Romans used lead as a soft and easily workable metal and had it near their water and food, not realising it was slowly killing them.

"I saw him in Porswea." A man three seats down from Anton spoke up. "He was afflicted by something powerful and terrible that had taken hold of his soul, even I could see that. Not even the Holy Father could have saved that man. His...His jaw looked like it was broken and was jutting out further than his nose."

Something rattled in the back of Anton's head. "Was there anything else off about him?"

The man shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Bit I remember seeing him through the crowds to see him with Cassius's daughter. His nose was gigantic, flat and wide. His tongue…I don’t even know if I saw it properly but his tongue always stuck out of his mouth…He didn’t look right."

That sounds like a bit like...inbreeding. That would explain the madness of the royal lines, if they kept marrying people far too close. And it's here as well.

Verona flashed him a look and Kal turned towards him as well. He tried his best to convey he knew what it was, which he guessed they both got, and sighed lightly as he looked back to Citrio and Livia.

"Sounds horrible, like something you would get at birth. And now because of him everyone's just waiting for it all to go off. Are you going to get involved?"

"We'll see when it kicks off." Citrio replied. "Don't really want to get killed but we don't want to see our city and home torched."

"Sounds like a tricky position to be in." Verona added.

"It is." Livia replied. "It weighs heavily on our thoughts."

"I've got another question. We were buying food in Porswea and we overhead something about a mage getting stabbed or something. Have you heard anything like that?"

"Oh. That." Livia chuckled heartily. "That was about this prick of a water mage from the academy that thought they could get whatever they wanted for free. This little bastard tried it at...somewhere you really shouldn't. Eventually the owner got so pissed that he walked up and stabbed him in the gut."

"I remember now." Citrio looked very happy recalling the tale, far better than just a few moments ago. "That was funny."

"Anyway, this little kid tried to use his magic but the owner grabbed his charm and ripped it off him. Then his was basically shitting himself as he got the crap beaten out of him. Then thrown into a back alley covered in shit."

"The real lesson there is to not be a dick." Anton huffed as he folded his arms. Kal and Verona chuckled and so too did Citrio and Livia. He glanced to Cetina but she was still lost in her thoughts. The convoy continued to roll forward, with only sporadic conversation to break up the journey.

---[]---

The sun had long fell behind the horizon, Verona and Kal had dozed off and rested against eachother, when a small horn sounded out along the caravan and the carts began to slow. Anton looked about and saw the other carts within their caravan begin to slow as well. They had been travelling since mid-day and quite fast at that. The large beasts would need rest soon, otherwise they would just fall over.

“Is this it for the day?” Anton asked quietly, not wanting to wake either resting girl.

Livia smiled at him while Citrio was looking out into the murky black night around them. The few torches that rested on the corners of the carts had barely illuminated anything beyond a few dozen meters. Flickers of orange lights barely illuminated anything in the flat open grasslands, they had no way of knowing if Goblins or anything else lay in wait for them.

“It is.” Livia replied, her words slowly waking Verona and Kal. “We’ll be setting up camp for the night and then we’ll be continuing at dawn. Should be arriving at the fort early in the morning.”

“That’s a little faster than they said. Have you ever been there before?” Anton asked. “We haven’t heard anything about the layout, and I’d rather not go in blind.”

“We’ve been through the area before.” Livia frowned deeply as Citrio turned away from the murky surrounds. “It’s a massive fortress, built like a six pointed star as tall as the walls of Porswea, with thousands of well trained and armed soldiers. For such a major military distribution centre…I don’t know how the Goblins were able to take it. Or how many we should be expecting to face.”

“I doubt someone would be helping them.”

“Not unless they liked being eaten or raped.” Citrio added dryly. “It seems that’s all those little bastards are good for.”

“You got that right.” Verona mumbled as she cutely yawned and stretched her arms. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be sad when they’re all dead.”

“But they don’t offer much of a reward.” Livia shrugged lightly. “So not many mercenaries go out of their way to fight them. If they get in our way we’ll cut them down. Those that actually hunt them are often inexperienced or very desperate, and only do it so they can get out of fighting them and onto something more lucrative. There are a few crazies that hunt them exclusively but there’s only a few of them and so many more Goblins.”

“Sounds like the place should be swarming with them.” Anton said.

“The armies are sometimes sent to deal with them.” Citrio looked back into the murky darkness. “But I’m not going to say that they aren’t just out there. Waiting for us to let our guard down.”

“It’ll have to be a short sleep tonight.” Kal stretched out her arms as she clicked her neck.

The cart rumbled off the stone road and began to bunch up with the hundreds of other carts in the convoy to form a large blob. As they had been travelling through open grasslands for some time there wasn’t anything like a camping spot. It appeared they literally just stopped on the side of the road. Citrio and Livia, and the other mercenaries from the guild, grumbled lightly as they hopped off the back of the cart. Anton, without receiving any specific orders, rose slowly and motioned for Verona and Kal to follow the mercenaries. He hopped off the cart first, onto dry and crisp grass, before helping Verona and Kal down. Cetina followed immediately after. She still didn’t look too good, a mixture of loss and sadness. When she looked up she forced a smile on her face but Anton could tell it was terribly forced.

“Now what?” Verona asked, raising her free arm and letting it flop to her side.

“This is pretty standard.” Citrio replied. “The Graterious soldiers will secure the perimeter while we take care of ourselves. Better get the fire going. I think we can all agree that we’re starving.”

---[]---

The small fire crackled and warmed their bodies as they finished their light meals. They didn’t bring much in the way of wood for fires, the space on the carts was limited and there wasn’t any nearby forest to harvest wood, so the number of fires were quite few. Thankfully it was a rather warm night so the fires were more for comfort and protection than warmth. Anton didn’t use any of his magic to help start the fires, letting the mercenaries start the fires with pieces of flint. Doing so would attract considerable attention and send the idly gossiping mercenaries into a frenzy. He had yet to see a mage within the mercenaries so they, and Verona and Kal, would become the centres of attention. The chances of discovering Kal’s identity would only be increased if he did.

Anton picked a small fire next to their cart and sat down on the dry grass. Amazingly only two other mercenaries were sitting at the fire. Other mercenaries were resting or sleeping around other fires, the rest were either setting up tents within the sprawling caravan or idly chatting and resting on the carts. Graterious soldiers were keeping a strangely tight perimeter. He had an inkling that they were to prevent them from leaving than stop a sneak goblin assault. Anton returned to looking at the fire. It was strange that, after sitting down for most of the day, he wanted to sit down again. Perhaps it was that the ground was not bouncing and jolting with every stone and hole. At least his rear was no longer being tenderised.

“Right.” Verona mewled as she flopped down next to Anton, immediately resting her head against him. “Time to get some sleep. Are you going to stay awake for this first bit?”

Anton sighed as he pinched Verona’s cheek. “When you put it like that it sounds like you’ve already made your decision.”

Verona chuckled as she playfully palmed away his hand. “I was just checking. Besides, someone else has the same idea.”

Kal sat next to Anton, a little more gracefully than Verona, and laid her head on his lap while she brought the rest of her body to curl in front of him. Verona pouted and huffed when Kal tucked her legs underneath his. With her free hand she pulled her Brackenlace cloak tight to her body, just like a blanket, and tried to get comfortable on the dry grass. Anton smiled and gently rested his hand on Kal’s head. Through the layers of cloth he could still feel her Beast-kin ear twitch slightly under his touch. To anyone else it simply looked like she wanted to get cosy with him, and while that was definitely part of it, it limited anyone else getting too close.

“We should get as much rest as we can.” Kal suppressed a light yawn. “We don’t need to watch for enemies and tomorrow will be a big day. We need as much rest, and mana, as we can get.”

Verona opened her mouth to retort but held it shut. She simply seemed more jealous that Kal had beaten her to it. With a shrug she lay down next to Anton and reached out for his free hand, which he was more than willing to give up. A few seconds passed and they were sound asleep, Verona’s mouth slightly agape as she started to snore lightly.

Anton’s admiration of the sight was broken by a light chuckling from the other side of the fire. Livia and Citrio were nestled together and sharing light kisses, both had removed their metal armour, at least their top half, his hands were clearly searching for something underneath her shirt. They didn’t seem too concerned about the possibility of other mercenaries watching their actions. They appeared to be…Anton wasn’t sure what they were or what he would call their relationship, remembering what he saw when they came down the stairs in the Graterious Mercenary Guild. Perhaps they enjoyed swapping or watching. Though, when Anton looked down at the two beautiful women snuggling around him, he had no right to even think of judging someone else’s consenting relationship.

Livia gently slapped away Citrio’s hands as they reached for her breasts. “You’re insatiable sometimes, you know that? And we’ve got people watching.” Citrio smiled and nuzzled his bearded chin in her neck. She sighed and looked at Anton. “Sometimes he gets rather worked up before a big battle.”

“So do you.” Citrio retorted. Livia smiled and kissed him back.

“I can understand that it’s a good way to relieve stress.” Anton replied. Verona pinched his thigh lightly so he retaliated in kind. “Though that might be a bit tricky here.”

Citrio laughed. “When you’re in this line of work, where you could get killed at any moment, you end up not worrying about knowing two people are going off to have a little fun.” He pointed to a large caravan in the distance. It looked almost the same as the one they travelled with the Bebbezarian merchants. Many mercenaries waited in a line outside, mainly in pairs, with three very strong men stood out the closed entrance flap. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were doing. “Though you might have a bit of an issue with that. I don’t think there’s enough room for the four of you in there.”

“Four?”

Anton turned to his side. Cetina sat next to them a few paces away on a small wooden crate. Her face was scarlet as she stared at Livia and Citrio, both now glancing at Anton with a deep look of confusion. Livia and Citrio frowned as they looked between her and Anton.

“Oh…” Citrio looked quite surprised. “I thought that, since we saw you four so close that you were together.” He looked at Cetina. “Since you were travelling with them I thought that…”

Cetina looked at Anton and flushed a little, many pinches were made, a few with a claw, on Anton’s legs as he tried to keep a straight face.

“No.” Cetina coughed lightly. “We just know each other from our journey to Porswea. They’re…they’re the only people in Porswea that I can actually trust.”

The mercenaries shared a knowing look but refused to elaborate.

Livia smiled. “If you did manage to get three women, without paying them, I was going to be very impressed. Though having two pretty women on your arms is pretty impressive.”

Anton laughed as he felt a flush come to his face, both the mercenaries laughed. He couldn’t deny that. “Although, we saw you coming down from upstairs in the mercenary guild with some interesting people.”

Citrio chuckled, quickly quietening as he looked down at the pretending to sleep Verona and Kal. “Nothing wrong with a bit of fun. Especially when they’re so soft and young.” Livia slowly shook her head as her tongue ran over her teeth. “Well.” Citrio removed his hand from Livia’s shirt and slapped his armoured thigh. “All this talk has gotten me quite bothered. So you need to come with me.”

Livia sighed and made Citrio drag her up, but she looked more than a little excited. She smiled awkwardly as she looked at the gear they were leaving behind. “I…I know that this is a little awkward to say this right now, but could you please look after our gear? We’ll be gone for a little while.”

Anton waved them off. “It’s fine. No one’s going to try anything. We’ll make sure of it. Go have some fun.”

“Thanks.” They both replied, linked their arms and made for one of the caravans.

Anton shook his head and looked to the weapons and gear they had left behind. While he didn’t think they would be stolen, the mercenaries around them were well behaved, at least those from the Graterious Mercenary Guild, there was every chance they could be stolen. Far in the distance he could see members of the Red Company, kept well away from the other guilds by impatient and annoyed Graterious soldiers, idly roaming while shouting and swearing at the soldiers. None were impressed by their behaviour or how they, heavily intoxicated with alcohol, wanted to start a fight with another guild.

He turned to Cetina, who was watching Livia and Citrio idly walking to the caravan, and lightly coughed. Cetina snapped towards him, her face more than a little flushed. “You know, Cetina, I thought you would be a bit better at talking about this sort of stuff.”

Cetina frowned but kept a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“Well…when we were back in the forest you didn’t have any problem with talking about Virgil and…and your sister. You made some quite interesting sounds and motions then.”

Cetina laughed. “But that’s different to this. I couldn’t care less who she fucks. Stupid whore.” She coughed as she shook her head, a tiny hint of hidden embarrassment on her face. “Sorry.”

Anton waved her down. “It’s fine. I was actually going to ask you if you could look after their gear for me.” Cetina raised a black brow when Anton lightly patted Verona and Kal. “I really can’t move.”

Cetina smiled and moved to sit in the middle of their gear. She took a moment to have a peek at the gear, she seemed quite impressed by its quality, before tucking her legs underneath her chin and stared at the flickering flame. Even though the other mercenaries were laughing and drinking it felt like their small circle had fallen into a cold silence.

As she continued to stare into the flame Anton saw something slowly breaking in her eyes. Whatever happened to her it continued to eat away at her heart, even more so when she had time to stop and think.

While I can’t do anything about it here, just talking about it will help. It’s better than keeping it bottled up and letting your mind just run itself into the ground. Festering away…

“Cetina?” Cetina snapped up to Anton, her eyes still a little distant. He took a deep breath before he continued. “What happened?”

A shiver of fear ran through her face. She gripped hard on her shoulders as she scrunched her eyes tight. Slowly she started to nod. “Okay. I supposed I should tell you what happened. You did give me quite a bit of money.”

Anton’s first instinct was to clarify that the gold they gave her was unrelated to his concern now. That she wasn’t obligated to say anything to them. He held his tongue as it would only make the situation all the more awkward. Cetina took a deep breath and reached for something on her hip. She produced a small water skin and downed its contents. Judging by her reaction, the sharp breath and the scrunched eyes, it contained quite a bit of alcohol.

Verona hauled herself up and rested her arms on Anton’s shoulder while Kal lifted her hood to show she was listening. Hearing this was more important than a few minutes of closed eyes.

Cetina attached the empty skin to her hip and stretched out her legs. “Well, it really began straight after you left. Just like you all said it would.” She smiled lightly at seeing Verona and Kal paying attention as well. “Not…Not right away. We found somewhere to stop while Dad tried to find out how to set up a business in Porswea. That seems easy enough, anyway, the other people that I travelled with, the other guards, they started acting funny. Like they were…Dolls.”

“Dolls?” Anton asked, simply for clarification. “Like they were puppets?”

Cetina nodded. “Yeah. Everything about them was so stiff. They started to have trouble steering the horses properly. I tried asking what was wrong but they didn’t answer me, not that that’s different, but Dad didn’t seem to notice the change either. We got moving again and found a large old storage barn that we could use to get started. Again, nobody wanted to help me, but that’s normal.”

Anton let out an involuntary grumble upon hearing how she was being treated normally. It seemed to lighten Cetina’s mood a little.

“While I was doing that I started having these weird headaches, not like I hadn’t drunk enough water or had bumped it. I don’t know where it came from but some moments I could barely think. Then I heard arguing from upstairs between my father and Eluria and Sancha. I…I don’t remember what it was about, the headaches were really bad then.”

“Sounds like you were drugged.” Verona quietly offered.

Cetina slowly nodded. “That would make this all easier to deal with. Anyway, I tried to head upstairs but the others blocked me. I couldn’t understand what they were doing so I tried to force my way through. They wouldn’t budge, but they still acted like they were all puppets attached to the same string.” Cetina held out both her hands and pretended to puppeteer. “Even their legs moved perfectly together. Like they were all controlled. As one.”

Verona squeezed Anton’s arm and Kal his leg. It sounded extremely familiar to something they met upon entering Graterious; The Ancient Listeners, a bizarre cult that apparently could live extremely close to Goblins, which moved in the same marionette style Cetina mentioned. A cult that used children and the flesh of Goblins in their rituals. He thought they had seen the last of them only a few minutes after meeting them. Now it seemed their reach was much further than their small section of forest in the south west of the empire.

“So…Um…I eventually fought my way through them.” Cetina scrunched her fists. “You were right, I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was.”

“Did you kill them?” Verona asked.

“No. But I was wearing my shield on my back when I fought my way through. That’s where I lost it.” Cetina sighed as she looked to her side, where she would have laid her large iron shield. “I ran inside and found my father…” Any warmth on her face instantly drained as she desperately held back tears. “I…I don’t know what happened next. Eluria and Sancha were holding onto his arms, all looking like they’d just had sex…He told me to go and never come back. Ever.” She shrugged hopelessly. “The next thing I know I’m screaming at him. I can’t even remember what I was saying.” Her gloved fingers gripped hard onto her shoulders as she ground her teeth. “I was so fucking angry. There might not have even been words for most of it. Just screams. Then Eluria punched me in the eye, saying that I was a worthless whore and never welcome back. And my father just stood there, like I was nothing. I…I snapped.”

Verona patted Anton’s hand and gently moved over to Cetina while Kal pulled herself up to rest next to Anton. Cetina glanced at Verona when she sat next to her and gently held her hand. She didn’t recoil or fight, simply staring into the flame.

“I shoved Eluria back with everything I could and then I ran. I ran from there, crying my heart out. I never thought I could cry like that.” Cetina shook her head as she wiped away the tears. “When I stopped I realised I had already run halfway to the other side of Porswea. Then…Then you sort of know what happened.”

Cetina looked up at the night sky and said nothing more. Anton felt more than a little angry at Duran but parts of her story didn’t make much sense. He didn’t get the impression that she was lying. The bizarre change in Duran and the Bebbezarian guards that she spoke of sounded like manipulation by magic. Then there was the head-ache she claimed to have at the time. Was that some side effect of it not working entirely? The Ghlotsm and the Thumpers both had some immunity to magic…There was only one way to know for sure. Anton gently patted Kal as he stood up and moved to the other side of Cetina. Tears were still in her eyes as she looked at him in confusion.

“Cetina. I want to check something, with your permission.” She frowned even more deeply as she looked at Verona, who seemed to understand what he was about to do. “It’s not going to hurt and I might help me understand something.”

Cetina wasn’t up for any objections, though she didn’t know what Anton was planning to do. He placed his hand on her armoured shoulder, much to her confusion, and closed his eyes.

I don’t think I want to say this aloud, just in case I’m wrong and it sets Cetina on the wrong path.

Okay. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, has magic been cast upon Cetina?

The answers to his questions using the prayer power had always been rather vague, never a word in his ear or head, only a feeling. This feeling that came back was a yes but it wasn’t clear what it meant.

“Anything?” Verona asked.

“I’m not sure.” Anton replied, eliciting a frown from the lightly red eyed Cetina. “But I want to try something else. This…this might feel a little weird.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Just trust me. This is going to feel a little weird.”

Cetina frowned but didn’t say anything as Anton closed his eyes once again. This time he tried to push the prayer magic into Cetina, to search for something. While he doubted she had the ethereal grain lodged in her body symbolising a developing mark of the Old Gods there was a chance that he could find something. Cetina gasped and tried to recoil away as he started to search through her.

“What, what are you doing?” Cetina asked.

“Does it feel like there’s water running underneath your skin?” Verona asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Just wait a moment.” Verona patted her hand. “Anton knows what he’s doing.”

Anton opened an eye and saw Verona throwing him a look. He hoped he knew what he was doing. At least he knew not to try this why using the lightning or fire magic. That would end in disaster for her. Anton kept searching and found it quite hard to search through her body, like he was pushing through mud. When he looked through Verona and Kal there wasn’t any resistance, before and after their activation, but this was new. He moved carefully just in case there was some risk involved with using the magic this way.

She said that she had a head-ache of some kind. I should check her head first.

He directed his attention upwards, Cetina let out a strange whimper as the magic reached her face, and he found something. For a moment he thought it was another lodged grain but it wasn’t that. It was more like a wisp of smoke, a green smoke, which tried to coil its way around and through her brain. Whatever it was it wasn’t strong and dissipated with the tiniest touch of his magic. He tried to form his magic around the few remaining puffs but it was impossible to get a hold of it. Nor was there any way of getting it out so he could inspect it further. A few brief waves of his magic and is was all gone. He quickly searched through her body but couldn’t find any more.

When he opened his eyes again Cetina stared at him in disbelief. “What…What was that?” A faint smile drew on her face. “That was really weird. I hope you don’t do that to just any woman.”

Verona chuckled. “Did you find anything?”

Anton scratched his head. While he was a little hesitant to tell her what he found he knew that, after everything that she had been through, she deserved to know the truth. “Sort of.” Cetina frowned deeply. “Well, firstly, I had a bit of trouble searching with my mana. It felt like I was pushing it through mud, and I’ve never had that problem before. Secondly…I found something like green smoke coiled around your brain.”

Cetina’s face drained of colour. She stared blankly at him, completely stumped but what he said.

“Whatever it was it dissipated the moment that I touched it with my magic. There wasn’t much, like it was just a tiny wisp. It’s all gone now but I’ve got no idea what it was. Well, that’s not entirely true. I think it might be some sort of magic, which probably caused your headaches during…that. But I’ve got no idea where it came from.”

Anton looked to Kal. He doubted that she would know but there was a chance that she had overheard something. His faint hopes were dashed when she shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve never heard of something like that.”

Anton nodded and turned back to Cetina. “Sorry, but I don’t know what it all means.”

Cetina rubbed her temples with her leather gloved hands. “I feel a little bit better. I’ve had a headache ever since then but it’s been getting better slowly. It’s completely gone now.”

“Well, since I’m here I should try and deal with that bruise of yours.”

Anton held is hand on Cetina’s shoulder and chanted a prayer to heal the bruise on her face. The mana flowed out of his body and into Cetina, but again it felt sluggish and required more mana than he expected. Not enough to be concern him but enough to be noticeable. The slight discolouration on her cheek quickly faded as Cetina touched the former bruise. She seemed equally happy and surprised that it disappeared.

So…There’s more going on with her than just that green smoke. I’m going to guess that’s not from her, but it feels like she’s got some sort of magic inhibition. Not to the same level as the Ghlotsm or those rabbit Thumpers, but there’s something. I healed that Bebbezarian guard without any issue…but she’s not one of them. She said that her mother came from across the sea to Bebbezzar. That would explain why she looks different to the rest of them. Maybe that’s why it felt difficult to use my magic. She has some innate resistance. Does that mean she could use magic at all?

A light cough from Cetina brought him back to the present. “Thank you, Anton.” Cetina bowed her head. “I feel a little better.”

“It’s not a problem.” Anton smiled at her. “If you get injured come to myself or Kal. We can heal just about any non-fatal wound.”

“Really?” Cetina looked at Kal with no small amount of awe. Kal didn’t know how to react so she scratched at her head. That was enough for Cetina. “I’ll do just that.”

“I think it’s time for us to go to sleep, for real this time.” Verona gave Cetina’s hand one last pat before she stood up and moved back to her previous position, Anton taking his as well.

Cetina looked a little happier, as happy as he expected she could be, and continued to look into the small fire. All around the mercenaries were slowly starting to go to sleep and gather as much strength as they could for the coming fight. It was a nice change of pace for them to not have to worry about arrange a guard rotation, where they could actually sleep, though Anton knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly until he had a roof over his head and a decent bed. Verona and Kal resumed their previous arrangement and drifted off to sleep, Anton hoped properly this time, while he sat in silence, his sight drawn to the silent and still Cetina, watching the flame reflected in her grey and purple eyes.

Chapter 085. Vol 3 - Fort Acidava

Chapter 085. Vol 3 - Fort Acidava:

Birds fluttered overhead as the carts rumbled to their destination, woken by the rising sun. Apparently they would be arriving at the fortress in a matter of minutes. The convoy had made better time than they first thought, at least according to Citrio. Both of the mercenaries were absent for quite some time before they returned their previous night, offering to take a watch while they had some sleep. The sleep that Anton had was pretty minimal, a creeping nervousness set in about how many Goblins they would have to fight. He hoped that he would get by with what he had, but he knew that Cetina had even less. She tossed and turned as constant terrors and flashes kept forcing her awake. He guessed that she had two hours at the most and that wasn’t continuous. However she hid it well. She had practice.

A cry from the front of the caravan drew their attention. The first carts were reaching the top of a large grassy ridge, one they were slowly snaking their way up, and Anton suspected they could see the fortress.

“Guess we’re about to see how much of a mess we’ve all gotten ourselves into.” Citrio said loudly, taking the moment to stretch out his armoured arms and legs.

“I’m rather interested in seeing this fort.” Anton said. If the design was any good, obviously ignoring the fact they needed to retake it, it might be a good idea to pass it onto Zac and begin construction of smaller forts, once they had enough people in Atros. “What’s the place called?”

“Acidava.” Livia replied. “Although it’s the largest one that’s not on the border with the Deweth Clans, so people tend to call it The Fort.” She lightly shrugged. “I remember it always being a decent place to get work. If you wanted to work for the lords and nobles.”

“It beats starving to death.” Anton looked forward again. The more he focused the more diffused lines of smoke he could see rising over the ridge. He didn’t know if that was from a besieging camp or from the fort itself.

“True.” Citrio weakly smiled. “But it does mean that you have to work hard and risk your life if you’re stupid. They aren’t just going to give you money.”

Their cart slowly rumbled up the hill. When they were almost at the top the mercenaries in the carts and caravans in front began to gasp and cover their mouths in shock. Verona gently held his hand and threw him a worrying look.

When they reached the top, and they could see the fort, Anton immediately knew why they were so shocked. A giant six pointed star fortress lay in front of them, the fortress itself was almost five hundred meters across, the outer walls taller than those of Porswea or Nonbur’n. He could only imagine at the effort required to build such a thing. However the fortress was in a terrible state. Several breaches in the wall had opened up and with the hundreds upon hundreds of tons of stone acting as impromptu ramps into the fortress. These breaches didn’t have any scorch marks or signs of explosives, as if someone had simply picked up and thrown the stone in every direction. Anton’s thoughts immediately flashed back to Qaiviel and the Orc, Zig, who used some strange white magic to blast a hole in the walls of Nonbur’n. He and the Yellow Goblin Commander from Mount Aspire had a lot in common. Some of the wisps of smoke were coming from the fortress, from what Anton couldn’t tell, but many more came from a large camp, nearly as large as the ruined fortress some distance away. The whole camp looked like a swirling and moving mass just from the number of people moving throughout it, several thousand at least, quite possibly in the tens of thousands, and many of them heavily armoured Graterious soldiers. Around the camp were several layers of deep dirt diches filled with wooden stakes. While it would make any human attacker into thinking twice he wasn’t so sure about the Goblins. From what little he knew about fighting the Goblins they would just charge through the defences like they weren’t even there. However, they normally had the numbers to make that strategy work.

“That’s really big.” Verona admired the fortress as she leant over the side of the cart. “How long did it take to build?”

“Not that long. Couple of winters.” Citrio replied. “A lot of slaves died to build it. Had to bring in Beast-kin ones from the north to make sure it was done on time.”

Anton tried not to have any expression but he could feel Kal was quite upset. She kept her body completely straight as she overlooked the fortress.

“It doesn’t really matter.” Citrio continued. “That fortress helps, or did help, with keeping the land safe from the marauding Deweth Clansmen.” He glanced at Verona. “I mean no offence.”

Verona rolled her eyes. “None taken. Because I’m not one of them.”

Livia nodded. “Yes. Apart from the hair you’re too short to be one of them.”

Verona groaned dramatically and rested her head against his shoulder as she pretended to cry. Anton played along and brought Verona in for a cuddle, which seemed to be her goal all along. Kal glanced back and continued to scan the fortress in silence. He guessed that she didn’t want to engage with anyone right now, just in case her reaction gave away her identity.

While their carts rumbled towards the rear of the camp Anton turned his attention to Cetina, still sitting to the side of Kal, who had not said a word in some time. She continued to look blankly at the floor of the cart, barely resisting the rocking of the cart. The very brief talk the other night hadn’t done her any lasting good, not that Anton thought she would just get over it so quickly. It definitely wasn’t good to let her stew in her own thoughts like that.

“Cetina?” Anton tried to get her attention. When she looked up to him the hollow eyes faded away into something more resembling of life. “How…How are you holding up?”

“Um. Okay, I guess.” Cetina scratched her head and rubbed her eyes with the back of her gloved hands. “Well, not really. I didn’t get much sleep.”

Anton smiled bitterly. There was virtually nothing he could do about that. Perhaps he could use the prayer power to put someone to sleep, but that was no guarantee that they wouldn’t suffer terrible nightmares and be unable to wake from them. Of course he could word that into the prayer…

“The moment we get back we’re going to sort that out.”

Cetina gave a tiny nod and resumed looking at the floor of the cart. Anton didn’t know what else to do or say. Verona gave his hand a squeeze, when he looked she slowly shook her head. He took that as a symbol that he should stop. He trusted Verona’s instincts that anything more, right now at least, might be detrimental.

Their convoy stopped at the rear of the sprawling camp and they received the order to disembark. The mercenaries grumbled and groaned as they hopped off the carts and into the sodden and dirty grass, churned up by the thousands of people moving about. All three took a more delicate approach down, Anton helped both to the ground, while Cetina simply jumped off, not caring where the mud splashed over her.

“Now what?” Anton asked aloud.

“This way! Everyone from the Graterious Mercenary Guild please gather over here.” A voice called out. Anton turned and saw one of the near identical twins, the one he presumed was standing at the job wall, wave towards them. “Everyone, this way!”

The other members of the guild slowly trudged towards the young man at the edge of the camp. Anton looked around and saw the other guilds slowly group together, the Graterious soldiers watching them with a keen eye. While most were indistinct those wearing red, belonging to the Red Company, stood out like a sore thumb. The Graterious soldiers watched the pack of rabble very closely as they slowly congregated. Anton spied a few sneers on the faces of the soldiers, evidently they didn’t think too much of them either. Did they expect them to run if things turned sour?

“Can I have your attention please?” The guild representative found an empty crate and stood on top, continuing to wave until all the mercenaries had gathered around him. “Thank you everyone for coming. I hope that you all had some rest the other night, because we will be going into the attack right away.”

“Really?” Kal asked quietly. Anton held the same thought, as did many of the mercenaries.

“Our employers, Lord Cassius and the Graterious Empire, need Fort Acidava retaken immediately. I have been told there have been signs of movement from the Deweth Clans and worse still, the Stone Men.” The last thing elicited quite a response from the mercenaries. Anton didn’t know what the Stone Men were, a quick glance down and Verona shook her head while Kal was silent. Whatever they were it was enough to cause great concern amongst their employers. “So this fortress must be retaken immediately.”

A Graterious soldier, wearing a slightly more extravagant suit of armour to the city watch captain they continued to run into in Porswea, approached the representative from behind and tapped him on the back of the leg. The representative looked down and was handed and tightly bound piece of paper, Anton could just make out a small piece of red wax holding it together. He took a moment to read the paper and slowly nodded.

“The next assault will begin in a matter of moments. You will directed to an area where you can safely store you belongings and then you shall be briefed of what is required of you.” A warm smile came to his face. “Good luck and try not to get killed.”

He stepped down from the crate and they were guided to a series of large cloth tents at the rear of the camp. Anton positioned Kal in the middle and gave her hand a small squeeze.

She looked towards him. “I’m alright, so far. There’s just lots of people around us…It’s strange I’m already becoming used to this.”

“Hopefully it’ll be like this one day, even without the mask.” Anton whispered back. Kal gave a tiny nod as they continued through the camp.

The Graterious soldiers, in the far distance, were already getting ready to move out. Each was having one last check over their weapons and armour before taking on very solemn expressions. Out the corner of his eye he spotted the six idiots walking amongst them. They were looking even worse than the regular soldiers, their skin had turned white and they were almost shaking with fear. The reality of combat, and the possibility of death, was truly sinking in.

The tent they were directed to was extremely large and empty, almost like a circus tent. They were directed to put anything they didn’t need for combat inside the tent. Apparently a few rear guard soldiers would watch over their gear while they fought. Anton didn’t think much of this but the only things they had brought in their packs were food and water. There was surprisingly little risk in their stuff being stolen. After they placed their packs to one side, Anton or Kal didn’t want to waste any mana on making them secure, they were directed back outside and into the camp proper.

Every tent and hastily erected building they passed was perfectly aligned, everything neatly positioned and organised. It was nothing like the camps during their travels through Qaiviel. The Graterious soldiers were equally well dressed and organised. They passed small units of a hundred men, ten deep and wide, with a man standing in front of them, dressed slightly more ornate than the others. Though they passed too quickly for Anton to completely hear what they were saying it appeared they were a captain of some sort giving a rallying speech before battle. It appeared to have some effect.

The soldiers began to travel with them now, far more orderly than the mercenaries, as they reached a large open area before the dirt and wooden stake laced trenches. At the far side, just before the first trench, stood a large wooden stage. The wood had been painted red and gold with several large sheets of impressively expensive looking cloth fluttering in the light breeze from wooden corner poles. Two turned towards them and each had a different symbol upon it. One cloth had a giant golden eagle, a large wreath clutched tight in its claws, and the other a golden bull riding on, what appeared to be, a bolt of lightning.

Which one is Cassius and which the Emperor? Going off of Earth’s history it should be the eagle, but it sounds like this eagle is very sick and weak.

A few shouts were directed at the mercenaries to gather to the side of large area. They bunched together, alongside mercenaries from the other guilds, as the Graterious soldiers began to assemble in neat squares. Though they were bunched closely together there was still enough of a gap to see the raised stage. Three brightly dressed people walked onto the stage. One was dressed in an entirely encompassing blue robe, the others wore red and silver. Kal made a strange noise as she nodded towards them.

“Are those mages?” Anton asked.

Kal nodded. “I think so. I’ve only ever seen a few, and those were from a long distance.”

“Those are some fire, water and iron mages.” Citrio said quietly. “If you look closely you’ll see a golden belt around their waists. That means they’re masters of the academy…and under the pay of Lord Cassius.”

Anton moved his head about. One of the mages turned and a tussle reflected a golden light. As he looked more closely he saw that the silver and red mages were women, seemingly of middle age, and the blue mage was a man a few years older.

Verona grumbled as she stood moved about and found a clear line through the mercenaries. “I can see them. The red one I’m guessing is some sort of fire mage?” She looked to Citrio and Livia, who nodded. “Then the blue is…”

“Probably a water mage.” Cetina answered. Once again she had been very quiet, and now their attention had been turned to her she looked a little nervous. “I remember seeing one back in Bebbezzar. They were part of an artist troupe and used coloured dyes in their water.” A look of warmth overcame her face. “Reds, purples, greens and yellows…I loved seeing them twirl and bend the water in the air…back when I was still with…”

Anton knew what she was going to say. He didn’t really want her to think too much more about it. “What’s the iron mage do? Is it what it says it does?”

Citrio nodded. “Yep. They can control iron and steel. So you can imagine that they are quite a problem for us.”

“Can they just pick up swords and armour with their magic?” Kal asked.

“Yeah.” Citrio replied. “So that makes them really sought after by the nobles and lords. She’s probably being paid more than half of us here.”

Anton looked around, seeing the thousands of mercenaries gathered. “That’s…That’s a lot of money.”

It could almost be one of those chests we’ve got back in Atros in a really short time…They are sought after indeed…And it might make them entitled pricks. Or it might not. I hope I’m not going to end up like that.

“Are they in command?” Anton asked. “Sounds like they aren’t military people.”

“If what I heard from the soldiers was right it’ll be General Ricimer.” All three, a quick glance back revealed Cetina was looking as well, looked to Citrio. He sighed lightly. “General Ricimer is Lord Cassius’s nephew.”

“So…What skills does he have?” Verona asked. “Anyone can be born into a position.”

“Umm…I don’t really know. This could be his first time commanding a force this large. We’ll just have to see how it works out.”

Anton immediately felt a little ill. As mercenaries, people that only worked for money, they could easily be seen as more disposable, especially by someone new who wanted to preserve his own forces. Still, if they were thrown into the thick of combat it would be a good chance for them to show off their abilities and get noticed. So long as they weren’t killed in the process.

The iron and fire mages removed their hoods. Each woman kept their brown hair short, though it seemed the fire mage had suffered a few burns to her face of the years. The blue water mage removed his blue hood, he too was a little older than middle aged but also wore a pair of glasses. Anton had yet to see something like that in this world. His mind flashed back to Qaiviel. Alfred had a telescope he used to scout the movement of the Orc and Clansmen invasion. He said that it had come from Graterious and was a relatively recent invention. It only made sense that someone with tremendous amounts of money would have something like that.

All three mages moved to one side of stage as ten brightly coloured soldiers approached the side of the stage. A single soldier moved forward, more ornately dressed than the others, and began to climb the steps.

“Is that him?” Verona asked quietly, her head bobbing about to try and see through the gaps of the mercenaries. “He looks pretty important.”

General Ricimer stood upon the centre of the large wooden stage in front of the assembled soldiers and mercenaries. It was a little hard to see him but Anton could tell that the man was very young, possibly younger than him, and not an age expected of a general. Still he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until he studied what he was wearing. Compared to everyone else his uniform was the most flamboyant, and potentially useless. The base armour was the same as the soldiers but had gold trims and ornaments of dragons, lions and some sort of snake creature that Anton suspected might be a Hydra of some sort, adorning his shoulders and chest piece. At the very least it would encumber him when fighting. At his hip hung one of the gaudiest and impressive swords Anton had ever seen. Like the rest of his armour this sword was covered in gold, and probably never used. A large and flowing red cape swished and fluttered with the light breeze, one that the mages and a few of his guards took extra effort to not let touch them. Anton hopped they didn’t want to get hit by the cloak and not some petulant reason on behalf of the General.

“Soldiers of Graterious!” He bellowed out in a volume Anton didn’t expect him to produce, though his voice was rather high pitched. “Your duty today is to retake Fort Acidava from the perfidious rabble of Goblins that has dared to infest it. The plan is simple, for these Goblins only strength is in their numbers.”

“He’s got that right.” Anton mumbled, Kal nodded to his words.

“The Eighty Seventh Graterious Iron Legion will attack up the middle of the central breach of the fortress and crush the Goblin occupiers under the weight of iron, steel and muscle. Mercenary forces will support the flanks and ensure the main force is not surrounded once fighting inside the fortress commences.”

Anton looked towards the fortress walls looming in the distance. There was some distance between them, perhaps a kilometre, but more than enough for the Goblins to see their approach and react. If the Goblins had a competent commander they wouldn’t just scream and rush out to meet them where they would be slaughtered. Had they not taken into account what could have the destroyed the walls?

“Do your duty to your Emperor.” Ricimer gave a dismissive wave to the men as they cheered the name of Decima.

The thousands of Graterious soldiers began to disperse in their hundred man units and marched towards the fortress, the mercenaries following closely behind.

“Which way are we going?” Cetina asked, her height affording her a slightly better view.

“This way.” Citrio called out to them. He and Livia waved them to the left side as several different shouts came through the chaos.

The mercenaries began to split either side of the departing Graterious soldiers. Anton saw the other members of the Graterious Mercenary guild head to the left side, thankfully the members of the Red Company moved to the right. Several large wooden bridges were placed over the ditches to allow them passage. There were only a few bridges so bottlenecks quickly appeared and slowed everything to a crawl. Graterious soldiers were given priority, or at least they enforced their own priority, so the mercenaries decided to wait and let them pass first.

“This is going to be pretty simple.” Citrio smiled at them as the Graterious soldiers marched by, their large broad shields on proud display. Anton caught Cetina looking very jealously at the large shields. He didn’t know how long she had fought with a shield but it must feel a little odd without one now. “We just hang back and fight when they need us to.”

“No point in overdoing it and dying?” Anton asked.

Both mercenaries nodded.

“That might make things a little difficult for us.” Verona frowned as she folded her arms. She looked up at her spear, the tip still covered in cloth, and removed it. The bright red crystal shone in the early morning light, scattering beams of red in all directions. Many of the mercenaries looked at the weapon hungrily. Verona groaned as she drew closer to Anton. “I know I like this thing but I might need to get something else. Something more...modest. It draws so much attention.”

“Especially since it looks like a giant ruby on top of a wooden pole.” Verona nodded to his words and held the spear tight. He had yet to change the prayer on the weapon and didn’t want to use any mana before this fight. He hopped that no one would try and steal it.

Finally the Graterious soldiers finished passing by and allowed the mercenaries to follow. The bridge was a little rickety and bent and bounced under their steps. Anton looked down and saw the hundreds of wooden spikes in the dirt trenches jutting up and towards the fortress, all placed very close to each other. He didn’t want to retreat without the wooden bridges.

Once on the other side the Graterious soldiers began to reform their lines and positions, an impressive display of discipline and manpower. The captains of the small hundred men units stood to the side and barked orders for the soldiers to form a tight line, shields touching each other to form a single continuous sheet of metal. Other units moved in behind those. These men didn’t wear the all-encompassing metal armour, rather a mixture of metal and leather. In their arms they held small and strangely bent bows, large and fully stocked quivers on their backs. It seemed a simple but effective deployment. On the other hand the mercenaries had no such order. Those with more bloodlust moved to the front, regardless of weapons or armour. Since they were ranged fighters, even if Verona’s blood magic was essentially a close ranged magic, they opted to stay near the middle. Citrio, Livia and Cetina remained with them as well, content to let them and other mercenaries do the fighting for now.

A loud trumpet horn resounded through the air as they began to march forward. Compared to the ordered march of the Graterious soldiers the mercenaries were more of a mob than a cohesive force. Since they weren’t traditional soldiers trained to work as a team it was somewhat understandable.

Verona moved around Kal and pulled on Anton’s sleeve, pointing to the small clay pots on her hips.

We should have bought some better ones. Ones that might not break if we bump into them too hard.

Anton held out his hand for Verona to draw some blood and threw the cloak around them both to shield her from sight. She flickered her power on and off as she made a tiny cut and withdrew half a pot’s worth of blood, Anton quickly healed his wound once she withdrew the blade.

“That should be heaps.” Verona coughed loudly. “For now. I’ll get more once we start fighting.”

“That power is really strange.” Cetina said quietly. “It seems so strange...to be able to do that.”

Verona turned and flashed her a wide smile. “You should see some of the things I can do with it.”

Anton smiled and held it when he caught Citrio and Livia looking wide eyed at them. “We get that quite a bit.”

“Never thought I would see one.” Citrio said quietly. “They have a habit of going…”

“She won’t be.” Anton replied firmly, to which Verona smiled warmly at him. “Ever. Not while I’m here.”

Both mercenaries gave a tiny nod and looked forward as they continued to march towards the broken wall of the fortress. He noticed that they didn’t speak aloud what others were called with her power. For that he was a little grateful, she didn’t like the term either.

“Are you going to use your magic right away?” Kal asked. “That would attract a lot of attention.”

“I…I don’t know.” Anton replied. “I don’t think they expect a mage to be a mercenary, or for me to be able to use as much magic as I can. If we see a big clump I’ll use my magic. How about you? How about your arrows?”

Kal patted her quiver as retrieved her bow. “I just checked before and they’re all there. It’ll be a great chance to see if they actually work.”

If they work well the enchanted arrows could sell for a small fortune. If they sold for some silver each there was a good chance they could fund the purchase of Beast-kin slaves entirely from their sale.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Slowly, as the looming fortress grew, an air of apprehension grew throughout the mercenaries and the Graterious soldiers. Now they could see the size of the fortress and the giant hole blasted into the outer wall many were questioning what they were going to face. Everyone knew that no ordinary Goblin could do something like that.

When they were three hundred meters away from the first of the stones loosed from the breach a short horn blast came from the rear, three short blasts that brought everyone to a halt. As Anton tried to ascertain the reason, looking back to the source of the horn, Cetina grabbed his shoulder and pointed to the breach. A tide of green and yellow of screeching, howling and unbridled rage poured out of the breach and hurtled down the uneven sloped stony towards them.

“Here we go.” Citrio unsheathed his sword and readied his shield while Livia readied her large mace. “Lots of the bastards too.”

The wave of Goblins continued surging towards them with no sign of stopping. They looked identical to those they had fought before. The Greens wore nothing other than a thin rag, many wore nothing, while the Yellows wore raggedy pants and shirts, and a few with stolen pieces of iron and steel armour crudely fashioned to fit their diminutive size. They waved their wood, stone and iron weapons over their heads as they ran over the broken ground like a herd of charging mountain goats. Within a few seconds there were more Goblins than they had fought at Atros and there was no sign of an end to their numbers. Anton felt deeply concerned as they reached the maximum range of his magic.

Are there enough soldiers and mercenaries here to fight such a number? I can’t see anything like pikes or even spears to keep them at range…Quite a few have bows and crossbows but that won’t be enough to deal with this many. Did any of those mages come with us? Would they even be enough?

Two tugs on his clothes brought him back to the present. Verona looked worriedly at him while Kal gripped very tight on his clothes. Anton looked to the mercenaries, they looked quite worried as well, while the Graterious soldiers held their faces firm, but Anton could see the tiniest cracks starting to form on their faces. No one could have prepared them for this.

“Right. Now’s the perfect time.” Anton looked around. “I’ll use the tethered flame pillars at maximum range. That should do the trick.” Cetina, Citrio and Livia looked at him in confusion. Anton smiled to each of them. “You might want to squint your eyes and cover your ears. It’s about to get very bright and loud.”

“What?” Cetina asked, throwing up a black eyebrow.

Anton closed his eyes and focused the mana inside of him. He formed six fire rings in a line, tethered them together and pushed them as far as he could. The rings flew through the ether, beyond sight, and released it as the bulk of the Goblins passed over.

“Here it comes.” Verona pulled her hood low and tight, the others copied her though Cetina, Citrio and Livia didn’t quite understand why.

The charging Goblins didn’t see the stones underneath their feet begin to glow, even as the mercenaries and soldiers began to point and look on in confusion. A second later the Goblins at the front stopped and looked down as their feet started to burn, quickly pushed on and trampled down onto the burning stones by those behind. They, inadvertently, used their comrades to shield their feet from the rapidly glowing stones and simply charged over without a moment’s hesitation. Kal let out a tiny squeak as she used both hands to cover her more sensitive Beast-kin ears as first hints of flame began to emerge. A red-orange flash burst out from the stone in a line as everything was consumed by the blinding torrents of roaring flame reaching over a hundred meters into the sky.

It was nowhere near as bright as the flame pillars he had unleashed at The Gravestone, twelve tethered flame rings, but more than enough for everyone to shout and recoil from the blistering heat. He felt something solid rest upon his back, his hands moved behind and felt Kal’s mask hiding behind his back. Even with the mask and her eyes shut it must have been too much for her.

Anton dared a peak through his fingers, not willing to risk more magic to see through the light. The mercenaries around him were crouching and covering their eyes with whatever they could manage while the Graterious soldiers had crouched down behind their shields, many using the person in front to shield them from the heat and light. A few shouts came through the flames, their captains yelling at them to remain firm and in position. The pillars of flame began to die down but not before he saw the hundreds of small black dots rising and falling in the sky illuminated against the red flame. Many were simply tumbling black embers, emitting a thin trail of smoke, but many of the Goblins were still alive. They twisted and screeched as they, injured and burning, fell back to the ground, emitting a terrifying crack as they smashed onto the ground.

Quickly the flames flickered and wanned, dying down to nothing except for small pillars of smoke. Anton blinked furiously to adjust himself to the reduced light while Kal moved from behind to his side. Cetina groaned loudly as she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her leather gloves and tried to understand what happened, the same for every other mercenary and soldier.

The area had been scorched bright red by the heat, the stones emitting steam and smoke as every liquid and fluid boiled and burned, some had even melted and lost their shape from the unrelenting heat. The area around the nearly molten stones had been burned black. Thin spindly black twigs were all that remained of the Goblins on the blackened stones, stuck forever in terrifying poses of agony. Those that were in the centre of the pillars had been vaporised. Screams, horrific animalistic screams, erupted from their side as the injured Goblins began to writhe in pain. Many were burned black skin or their limbs reduced to black spindly stumps, others only suffered scratches and light burns. Everyone was left stunned by the scale of devastation, just like at the Gravestone.

“Not bad, Anton.” Verona gave him a light punch in the arm while Kal shook her head.

“Is that what you meant by bright?” Cetina asked, her voice a little loud as she adjusted herself to the reduced noise.

“Yep.” Anton smiled back as Citrio and Livia threw each other a disbelieving look. Cetina cursed under her breath and shook her head, a faint smile on her face.

Two horn blasts, one short followed by one long, rallied the Graterious soldiers as they reformed their lines. It had more of a limited effect on the mercenaries but they recovered all the same. Very quickly a chorus of questions erupted, all demanding to know who or what caused the flames. Many were calling the Graterious fire mage as the source but there were also calls saying it wasn’t possible for a single mage, no matter how powerful that individual was.

Another two blasts rang out in the air and the mercenaries ceased their chattering.

“Is that an order to reform the line?” Anton asked Citrio.

The mercenary now looked at him with no small amount of fear. When Anton tilted his head, by the tiniest amount, his eyes shrunk as he nodded furiously.

“Yes.” He barked loudly, receiving a jab from the slightly less terrified Livia. He coughed to steady himself. “It’s just to reform their ranks after a break. It’s not something you hear often from an Iron Legion. Usually they-”

Another deep rumbling from the fortress interrupted Citrio. The Goblins that could move ran back through the breach, those that couldn’t crawled as pathetically as they could manage, as the red hot and blackened stones tumbled down and away from sight. Tremendous plumes of dust and sooty smoke erupted into the air and slowly flowed towards them. More screams erupted from the smoke and dust, ones that sounded like a distant echo.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to do that too.” Cetina shook her head and ran a glove across her brow. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Fire, lighting and earth magic…You’re…You’re just too crazy! Just…incredible.”

Anton flashed her a small awkward smile as the dust cloud floated towards them.

“Stay on your guard and your head out of your arse.” Someone near the front yelled back. “We’ve got no idea what’s happening.”

Anton raised the hem of his cloak to cover his face and stop the dust. Cetina pulled out her sword and held it ready for combat, but it was hard to see anything. Anton focused as much as he could through the chattering people and heard more collapsing stones, with a hint of stone striking wood. Verona and Kal pulled close to Anton, Kal retrieved her daggers while Verona’s hand hovered over her pot of blood. Anton readied some lightning bombs within his body just in case. Thankfully he didn’t hear any sounds of metal being struck or screams of pain as the smoke and dust slowly cleared. When it cleared he heard gasps from the mercenaries and even grunts of surprise from the soldiers.

The collapsing stones revealed a small cavern underneath the stone rubble right up to the base of the fortress. None of it looked natural. Hundreds of wooden spikes littered the exposed carven, some jutting upright with their exposed ends sharpened to a point. A few Goblins had fallen in and had impaled themselves on the wood. They desperately clawed at the holes in the stomach to free themselves but it was no use. It took Anton a moment to process what he was seeing.

“Crafty bastards.” He mumbled aloud, those nearby looking to him as he was the only one speaking. “They built a trap for us. How’d they think of that?”

“Doesn’t look like much of a trap to me.” Citrio said, slightly stammering as he tried to understand what they were all witnessing. “They would have fallen in first.”

“Not if they attack us, retreat, and then we give chase. We could fall into their trap when they knock out the supports. It looks big enough to collect all of us. If the spikes didn’t get us the fall would.”

Citrio nodded and looked forward. The Goblins beyond the collapsed cavern didn’t attempt another charge. Instead they simply watched their lines from the safety of the fortress breach, their bulbous eyes staring at them unblinking as they bared their teeth in anger. A loud screech from the fort attracted their attention and they began a relatively orderly retreat. They disappeared from view, almost to say they were not worth their time, and left the fortress seemingly abandoned.

This isn’t the work of something stupid and animalistic. This is the result of something cunning with the ability to lead and control its comrades, especially from creatures that seem so wild and destructive. The Yellow Goblin Commander tried something different by dispersing its forces and attacking in waves rather than just attacking in a mob. It also didn’t have the luxury of organising a more complex plan. But if there were a few more of them or if they had more time they could have thought of a better plan, something like building a pit trap with the massive manpower they have here. If there is one or more of those things they could’ve used that white magic to make the holes in the wall. We aren’t just facing an undisciplined rabble but an actual enemy force. One our side didn’t plan for.

Anton looked at the spiked pit in front of the breach.

If we attacked like we were supposed to we’d probably all be dead…Not a great way to meet the Gods. I know it’s going to seem extremely self-centred but it’s good that I was here.

Five short horn blasts came from the rear and the Graterious soldiers began to retreat in a slow and orderly fashion. Anton looked to Citrio as the mercenaries began to follow. “I’m guessing that’s for us as well.”

Citrio still looked a little scared of him but nodded all the same. “Yeah. Five short blasts is for a general retreat. Guess they want to replan the offensive…Considering what just happened.”

“I’m sure they will.” Verona said quietly.

Kal groaned as she looked towards the camp. “I think it’s about to get serious for us.”

She strapped the bow to her back and withdrew her captured blade, holding it flat against her wrist. Cetina sheathed her sword and moved to their side. Anton saw several Graterious soldiers approaching surrounding the red, blue and silver robbed mages. None looked particularly happy as they made a beeline for Anton.

“I think so too.” Anton sighed as a small path emerged in the mercenaries. “Let’s just keep calm, and play this by ear. We’ll be fine.”

“This won’t go well.” Verona grumbled. Anton hoped she was wrong.

Chapter 086. Vol 3 - Fire, Water, Iron and Gold

Chapter 086:

Anton, Verona, Kal, Cetina, Citrio and Livia were shown to six large and well-furnished chairs inside one of the larger tents in the sprawling camp near Fort Acidava. The tent clearly belonged to a commander of some sort. The material was red and gold unlike the normal dull and dirtied white. A large dark wooden table stood in front of the six chairs, laden with soft fruits, dried meats and bottles of wine. Other tables littered the room filled with other assortments of food and drink. A few contained large stacks of fine white paper, a small dip feather pen to the side. To the side of the room a small fire burned in a metal brazier giving the tent a strangely warm and homely feeling. A soldier grunted and motioned towards the chairs again. Anton knew it was more of an order than a request, the dozen soldiers a few meters away made sure that point was made, but they acted the part all the same.

The elite Graterious soldiers had said nothing on their journey, only for them to follow and not to speak or make an unnecessary movements. Anton saw the looks in their eyes and knew they weren’t joking or playing around. He, Verona and Kal had initially followed but Cetina, Citrio and Livia were brought along with them, simply because they were nearby and the mages hadn’t given them specific instructions. Cetina appeared rather nonplussed while Citrio and Livia were positively panicking underneath a thin veneer of confidence and indifference to their current circumstances.

Anton took a seat, with Kal and Verona either side, Cetina next to Kal, while Citrio and Livia sat next to Verona. The soft chairs didn’t belong in a military camp, rather a mansion, but he wasn’t complaining when his rear made contact with the seat. Any hint of fatigue left him as he made contact with the incredibly soft cloth covered chair and rested their weapons against the chairs. It didn’t seem to matter to the soldiers that they were potentially covered in sweat, oil and dirt. While the others visibly relaxed Verona let out an inappropriate groan as she wiggled deeper into the chair, resting her spear against the inside of the armrest.

“This…This.” She smiled inanely at him as she patted the armrests of the chair. “We need to get…three of these.”

Anton caught Kal giving a tiny nod as she ran her gloved hands over the fabric, a tiny wiggle from her rear as she tried to get more comfortable. “Sure.” Verona’s face lit up at his words. “Getting it back might be a problem. I’m just wondering how much something like this costs.”

“A substantial amount.” A womanly voice said from behind. “Though I’m sure that we could let those go cheaply since you’ve sat on them with dirty armour.”

Anton turned to the source. The three mages entered alongside another ten Graterious soldiers. The iron mage, wearing the silver robe, entered first and smiled warmly at them. Anton tried to stand up, as did everyone else, but she gently waved them down.

“It’s fine.” She continued to smile as she waved at the soldiers and pointed on the other side of the table. “If such fleeting and material goods really mattered we would have made a point for you not to sit on them.”

The Graterious soldiers produced another three chairs and placed them on the other side of the table. All three mages moved around and sat opposite them. The iron mage sat in the middle with the fire and water mage sitting either side.

“I’d just like to start by saying thank you.” The iron mage began. “Thank you for not making a scene and coming with our soldiers peacefully.”

Anton smiled as he looked back to the new soldiers. They kept their eyes planted on them as their hands rested on the pommels of their swords. As Anton turned back to the mages he saw Verona’s hand resting on her filled pot of blood, her fingers idly picking at the lid. She was ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Kal remained perfectly still but he could tell that she too was ready to fight, like a coiled spring ready to let loose. Anton didn’t know if the mages could tell if he was about to use magic so he prepared a few lightning bolts and kept them within him. The mages made no sign that he was preparing to fight as he turned back.

“We really didn’t have much of a choice.” Anton smiled at the mages. “Not if we wanted to survive. You can’t really argue with twenty well-armed and sour looking soldiers.”

All three smiled, the fire and water mages chuckled.

“Perhaps.” The fire mage spoke with a very light and faint voice. “But this is the easiest way.”

“So…Let’s skip the formalities and pleasantries.” The water mage began. His voice was far more scratchy and hoarse but it didn’t sound like it strained his throat. His fingers, old and weathered, tapped on the table. “We know that one of you-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” Someone new barked from behind the mages.

All three inaudibly groaned and rolled their eyes, all three slumped slightly in their chair while the water mage began to sneer and open and close his mouth like a pouting child. For all their magical strength and seeming authority they behaved a lot like children. Anton found it strangely endearing.

The mages turned around as the tent flap was pulled back by several of the elite Graterious soldiers to allow General Ricimer entry. Up close he looked even younger, there was just the hint of a spotty beard beginning to shine through his soft skin, and not an age someone expected to be a general.

“General.” The iron mage flashed them an awkward smile as she turned around. “General Ricimer. Whatever seems to be the problem?”

“Why did you start this without me present?” He spat out to her as he approached. Anton saw the fire mage holding back from rolling her eyes. “I am the General in command here. Not you. Not any of you.”

“This is a matter of both the army and The Academy.” The iron mage gently replied. “Far more important to The Academy. As Masters of The Academy we understand far more of magic and those who use it than you ever well. So please, let us do our job without interference.”

The last few words held a hint of venom towards the General. Ricimer appeared to understand and softened his stance and expression. He waved to an elite soldier to bring forth another chair and sat next to the fire mage. She didn’t look too happy but instantly changed her attitude when he looked towards her. To Anton’s left Citrio and Livia were looking ever more like ghosts as more important and powerful people gathered. Verona, Kal and even Cetina kept calm as Ricimer fidgeted with his golden armour and tried to get more comfortable.

“As I was saying.” The iron mage continued. “One of you created that magic. We-”

Citrio raised his hand, the four opposite turned towards him. The mages looked indifferent to him while Ricimer looked slightly confused.

“Forgive me for saying this, your graces, but my wife and I…don’t have anything to do with this.”

Oh, so you are married.

“We were merely nearby when it happened.”

The mages looked to the Iron mage, who slowly nodded. She nodded to the soldiers standing behind them and smiled sweetly. “I understand your predicament. I can also tell that neither of you are involved in this incident. So, my apologies for taking up your time. We will compensate you for your time lost and the inconvenience thrust upon you.”

Two soldiers moved forward and loomed over the seated Citrio and Livia. Livia seemed rather relieved to be leaving alongside her husband. The soldiers escorted them out the tent, both gave a small nod to them as they left.

All attention returned to them. “So…” The Iron mage continued. “Which of you was the one that created those flame pillars?”

Cetina glanced towards Anton, the realisation of what she did immediately washed over her face. When the mages and Ricimer looked to Anton a light flush of embarrassment rose over her scarred face.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. “I didn’t meant to…”

“It’s fine.” Anton said, Cetina awkwardly smiled back. “Yes. It was me.”

“You?” The fire mage asked, genuine surprise on her face. “You made all six of those ridiculous flame pillars? By yourself?”

Anton nodded. The Iron and Water mage looked to the Fire mage with a look of incredulity. The Fire mage slowly nodded as she held a red leathered glove to her chin. “It…It may be possible, though the supply of mana would need to be enormous. It is possible...but the fire charm alone would need to be at least a foot wide, made from Adamantium and a quenched Gliyrhil core, with at least twenty flawless rubies in a spiral formation.” She looked him over, her wise eyes focused on his armour visible underneath the Brackenlace cloak. “You have some money for that armour…four…three of you have.” She frowned as she looked at Cetina’s plain steel armour. She made a tiny noise as she looked back to Anton, Cetina frowned as if she was being considered cheap. “So, where is your charm?”

“I…” Anton looked to Verona and Kal. Verona flashed him a small smile while Kal gave a small nod. There wasn’t a way to lie their way out of this and this could be their only chance to get to Seocuria quickly. “I don’t have a charm.”

“That…” The Iron mage looked him over again. She didn’t believe his words so she looked to Verona and focused on her hair. She didn’t know what to make of Kal’s mask either. “I find that hard to believe.”

Anton raised his hand and summoned a small fireball. All three mages eyes shot open while Ricimer appeared rather confused by their reaction.

“Why are you all looking like that?” He asked. “I’ve seen students in The Academy do that after their first winter of training. It’s not that impressive.”

“He didn’t speak any chants-”

“So?”

“So…There’s one way for someone to use magic like that, without a charm and without chanting.”

Ricimer’s eyes became distant for a moment, even forming a faint squint, before they burst back into clarity. “A mark of the Old Gods.”

The Iron mage nodded. “Indeed.” She smiled as she smiled towards him. “A mark of Esperit, the Goddess of Fire. You don’t see many of them.”

“Are there more?” Anton asked.

“There are. But they tend to keep their heads down.” She smiled as she nodded towards the fort. “Unlike you, it seems.” Anton smiled but didn’t say anything. He wanted her to make the next move. The Iron mage immediately picked up on that and continued. “Perhaps…Perhaps we started the wrong way. My name is Terentia. The woman is red is Vistilia and the man in blue is Harprax. And you already know General Ricmer.”

Ricimer grumbled and threw Terentia a foul look but didn’t admonish or chastise her for the way she spoke to him.

Anton smiled and nodded to each. “A pleasure to meet you all. Properly. My name is Anton, this is Verona and Kal, my wives, and this is Cetina, our most recent travelling companion.”

Terentia nodded. “When I heard there was a Clansmen amongst the mercenaries I was quite interested.”

“Ugh.” Verona leant closer to Anton. “This again.”

Vistilia frowned. “You mean-”

“No.” Verona angrily replied. She pulled at a few loose strands of silver hair. “The colour of my hair, which I love, doesn’t make me one of those marauders. I’m not going to kill people because of that. Okay?” Vistilia appeared quite taken aback, a tiny flush on her face. Verona groaned as she reached for Anton’s hand. “Sorry. I got a little emotional there. Still not used to it yet.” Anton squeezed her hand in return.

“My apologies.” Vistilia nodded. “That hair is not something you should show in Lord Vulusius’s territory. You’ll probably be torn apart by the citizens and soldiers alike. The Silver Eagle Clan hits their territory the hardest.”

Verona grumbled. “Guess we aren’t going there anytime soon then.”

“I’m not too sure what to make of your masked…woman.” Terentia gently bounced around the issue of Kal’s white and green mask. “But that does bring us back to our original concern. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“We…Think of us as a group of travellers.” Anton began. “We have been travelling for some time, away from cities and civilisation, when we arrived at Porswea. We planned to make some money there before moving onto Seocuria. For that we need a large boat and crew, and since the north is supposedly infested with bandits, and meeting Lord Cassius would be the easiest way to get that. So the plan was do all those things at once.”

The four looked on dumbfounded and thoroughly confused, though they held themselves together quite well.

“That is…” Terentia. “One way to get…That.” She coughed loudly. “But why do you want to do that? Seocuria is very far away when you could live easily in Graterious selling your...skills? Like you are now. I just don’t understand.”

Anton resisted the urge to look at Kal. “We have our reasons.”

Verona nodded while Kal remained motionless out his peripheries. Terentia looked to Cetina. “And what about you?”

Cetina quickly realised she was the centre of attention. She shuffled awkwardly as her hands scratched at her scarred cheek. “I’m…I’m in this for the money. I’ve only met them recently.”

Terentia kept her face blank and looked back to Anton. “Well then…”

Ricimer slammed his armoured fist on the table. “We’re all very impressed that you can summon a fireball without a charm.” Terentia mumbled something but Anton missed it. “But how did you know that there was a pit trap at the base of the fort?”

Anton smiled awkwardly. “I’m afraid to say that I didn’t. It was merely an accident, I just wanted to show off to gain your attention.”

“Well, you succeeded in that.” Harpax smiled as he lightly tapped his finger on the table. “None of us have seen or heard of you before today. You, you don’t belong to the Academy, do you?”

“No. We asked about visiting but we were told that we wouldn’t be allowed in.”

“That’s…A fair response.” Harpax closed his eyes and shook his head. “We have many charlatans trying to get in to steal rare and expensive books and items.”

“Do…” Verona glanced at Anton. “Do you have any books on the Old Gods? And their magic?”

Now their eyes grew interested, even Ricimer appeared vaguely interested. “Why do you ask that?”

The implication was clear. Verona took a deep breath. “Because we don’t really understand our powers all that well and we need guidance.”

“Does anyone there know how to use the powers of the Old Gods?” Anton asked before they could respond.

“N-No.” Terentia stammered out. “No one at The Academy knows how to use such old powers.” Verona huffed as she fell back into the chair. “But that sounds like you all, well, three of you, have their powers.”

“Yes.” Anton held his hand up again and summoned a small lightning bomb.

Now all four looked quite scarred, the mages incredibly so. They glanced at one another, sharing a knowing look, before focusing on Terentia. “Lightning…And fire…That’s impossible. From what little I understand of their powers.”

“Well, I can.” Anton replied, withdrawing the lightning bomb.

“Can you do anything else?” She asked. “Since you can already beat the rules.”

Anton initially hesitated to reveal his ability to use Tethra’s power. He had no idea if she was hated in the Empire, but it was the perfect opportunity to increase potential attractiveness to Lord Cassius.

“I can also use the prayer power of Tethra.”

“Tethra? The Goddess of Prayer?” Anton nodded. Their attitude changed immediately. “Three powers of the Old Gods…One that is supposed to be dead…” Terentia looked to Verona. “What is your power?”

“I can control blood.” She pulled down the white furred collar of her armour to expose the red tattoos liking at her jawline. “Jira, she’s called.”

Terentia looked to Kal. “I can use Tethra’s power, the same as Anton.”

Something washed over their faces. “Can you please excuse us a moment?” Terentia asked as her hands disappeared below the table.

Anton had no real authority to stop them but played along. The three mages quickly rose from their chairs, the wood groaning on the hard floor, and left the tent, leaving General Ricimer stunned. He raised an open armoured hand and held it in their direction. Finally he scoffed and gave a rude gesture as he shook his head. When he looked back the stun was still prevalent. Anton looked to Verona and Kal, who shrugged weakly while Cetina looked on blankly.

Ricimer glanced to his soldiers, who kept their faces stoic and still. He sighed as he flexed his hands. “Right…Since they’ve left…And you appear to be quite…capable. How would all four of you like to serve under my father in law, Lord Cassius?”

Anton wasn’t expecting that from the General. To Anton he appeared inexperienced at military matters, simply walking into Fort Acidava, but another thought cropped up. Ricimer was more than likely a noble of some high pedigree to be leading at such a young age. Born into, what he guessed, the cutthroat world of noble politics, he would have been trained and taught to recognise boons when they came by and exploit them ruthlessly. And with the mages gone he could move freely.

“What would that mean?” Anton asked, casually entertaining the idea.

“You would work like a soldier, a combat mage, in the employ of the Graterious army, specifically under the command of Lord Cassius. I’m sure my father in law would pay extremely well to have you on his side. Far more money than you could earn with a mercenary company.”

And I’m sure that you would gain quite a bit of favour with Cassius. But this could be a good chance to get close to Cassius, but if we agree we’ll probably have to say in Graterious and fight in that civil war that’s bubbling away. And we need to get moving onto Seocuria.

“Can we please have a moment ourselves?”

Ricimer sighed and waved them away. Anton looked to Verona and Kal as they rose up and left the tent, leaving Ricimer alone. They stepped outside, finding the tent surrounded by a ring of Graterious soldiers, and formed a small huddle. Just as Anton was about to speak he saw a glint of steel as Cetina approached. When he looked up she realised that she might not have been invited.

“Oh…” The embarrassment was clear on her face. “I…”

“It’s fine.” Verona smiled. “This affects you as well.”

“I don’t know about that.” Cetina awkwardly approached them and entered their circle. “You’re the ones with the magic. All I have is my sword…And not even a shield.”

Anton grunted as he remembered how she lost her shield. That would be one of the things they fixed the moment they returned to Porswea. He focused himself on the current task. “What do you all think?”

‘What do you think?” Kal asked. Anton nodded at her, telling her to speak first. “Well, I…I don’t think we should. Even if we get lots of money from working with them we’ll be stuck in Graterious. And then we won’t be able to move onto Seocuria and Danafra. So, no.”

“I’m the same.” Verona folded her arms. “I don’t want to get involved in someone else’s war when it doesn’t affect our home.”

“I agree. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to just say no outright. That’ll just piss him off. We should try and get an audience with Lord Cassius regardless. Otherwise we’ll be stuck going the long way through Vulusius’s territory, something that’s going to be terrible for all of us.”

“Are you going use Ricimer’s desire to gain favour against him?” Cetina asked.

Anton nodded. “Exactly. Instead of us being delivered to Cassius all nicely wrapped up in a little bow as the perfect present to his father in law, alongside returning Fort Acidava to their control, we’ll say that we’ll need to speak with Cassius himself before we agree to anything. That way we haven’t declined but haven’t agreed. We might get a few things as favours, things we might need, from Ricimer to persuade us. Things that we’ll take but won’t change our decision.”

“Sneaky and manipulative.” Kal mumbled under her breath. “Very sneaky.”

Cetina scratched the back of her head. “I don’t think that they’re going to hire me if you aren’t there. In fact I don’t think they would hire me at all. I don’t have any fancy magic. I don’t even know how I’d fare against a normal soldier, let alone against one of those elite soldiers.”

“You slaughtered those Ghlotsm with ease.” Anton said. “I’m sure, with some better gear, you could probably take out quite a few of those elites.”

Cetina smiled and flushed lightly, Anton received two light jabs to his side. He pulled them both close, Kal squeaked in surprise while Verona laughed wildly as they playfully tried to push him away.

“I wonder what made those mages freak out.” Verona looked back to the tent as she brushed down her armour. “Just because of our powers…”

“I don’t know much about how they are treated in Graterious.” Kal picked at the chin of her mask, the barest hint of a scratching sound with her touch. “It really didn’t matter to me back then. Are there any followers of the Old Gods in Bebbezzar?”

Cetina shook her head. “The Church of the Holy Father says they’re terrible people and they’re hunted down.” Cetina perked up, remembering she was from Bebbezzar. “I don’t follow their beliefs. Their empty words and promises didn’t matter to me back then.” An awkward and lonely smile graced her face. “I had other problems.”

“Well…” Verona looked quite awkward as she looked up at Anton.

“We’d better head back inside.” Anton patter her helmet. “Find out what made those mages freak out for.”

“That…That was odd.” Kal began as they moved back inside. “I know you three, probably couldn’t see it but they were very surprised.”

“Umm. I don’t think that was hard to see.” Verona flashed Kal a cheeky smiled.

Kal shook her head. “No, not like that. I could see it in their eyes and the way they breathed. Even with the mask on I could tell they were worried about something.”

“How good are you at doing that?” Anton asked. Kal said nothing and looked away, a tiny sway to her hips as she moved to the front.

The Graterious soldiers opened the tent flap. Ricimer still sat at the table, drinking from a large goblet of wine as he disinterestedly looked at a plate of food in front of him. When he saw them approach his face changed.

“So?” He motioned for them to take their seats. “What do you think about the idea? We can discuss payment at any time, though I can assure you it would be in the hundreds of gold coins.”

Cetina struggled to sit properly at the amount and the casual way at which such wealth could be thrown around. Anton bitterly smiled at Ricimer. “I’m afraid that we cannot agree to such a thing right now.” Ricimer didn’t seem too disappointed or surprised. It was a stab in the dark from him and he didn’t have much time to act. Anton continued before he could speak. “But we still would like to speak with Lord Cassius himself after this is over. Will you be coming back to Porswea after the fort is retaken?”

Ricimer finished his wine before slamming it on the wooden table. “Probably not. I will be required to stay for the next few days to repair the fortress. Which is a shame.” He didn’t seem thrilled that he wouldn’t be able to return with them. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, slumping lower into the chair. “Is there anything that could convince you to join our side? Money, land, an estate?”

“I’m afraid that we are not open to the idea of joining you outright right now.” Ricimer looked even more annoyed. “But we are open to the option of being hired for specific jobs, if the pay is good enough and we are available.”

Ricimer raised a brow. Anton threw him some bait and he appeared to take it. Before he could speak the tent flap opened and the mages returned. The nervousness from before had disappeared as they retook their seats. Ricimer threw them a questioning look but they didn’t reply.

“My apologies.” Terentia said as she slid the chair forward.

“I just offered them permanent employment with us.” Ricimer nodded towards them as he hauled himself upright. “However they declined. An option to hire them later is still available if Cassius can convince them.”

Terentia nodded thoughtfully. “I can appreciate that. Trying to force someone that could create those flame pillars, and still be able to move, not to mention two other users of the Old God’s power…and another with a very finely crafted sword and armour, wouldn’t work out well for us.” She smiled at Anton. “The simple question is this. Are you a threat to Graterious or its people?”

“No.” Anton answered firmly.

Terentia looked to Ricimer, who kept his face flat. “Excellent. That’s very good to hear. I think that answers that problem of whether they are a threat to us.” A strange look overcame Terentia’s face. Her fingers clenched tight as she scrunched her eyes. “Now…How much do you know about being a mage, especially one of the Old Gods?”

“Very little. I haven’t had anyone to teach me and we’ve all just had to learn on our own.”

“Creating those flame pillars…That would have used a considerable amount of mana for anyone. Yes?” Terentia reached into her robe and produced four small glass vials containing a thick blue liquid. “If you’ve never been to The Academy, or any other magical society, than you probably don’t know what these are.”

“Mana vials?” Anton asked the obvious.

Terentia simply smiled again. “Indeed. These will restore a portion of your mana.”

“What’s it made from?” Kal asked.

Terentia frowned lightly at Kal, her eyes raking over her white and green mask. “The list of ingredients is long but I can assure you that none of them are poisonous. I’ll prove it to you.” She opened a vial with a satisfying pop and drunk a portion of the blue liquid. “Comparing mana from one person to the next is always difficult but that recovered a small portion of my mana. I don’t know how much it’ll recover for any of you but it’s much faster than waiting for it to recover naturally.”

“Is there a limit of how many you can take at once?” Anton asked. When he ate too many of the Karak fruits he became violently ill, even though Jeff, who didn’t have magical powers, could eat as many as he wanted.

“About ten a day. Though you would be feeling quite sick by the end of it. If you want more they can be bought from magical suppliers. There’s usually one in the larger cities that can be trusted. Having an angry mage descending upon their store is a quick way to be put out of business forever.”

Sounds just like eating the Karak fruit. That fruit was supposed to be only accessible to the royalty and mages of the dead Kar Kingdom. I doubt Graterious would have it, and asking about that would just bring up dangerous questions.

Terentia pushed the four vials across the table towards Anton. They felt quite cold in his hands, the coldest thin g he had touched in a world without refrigeration. He gave a tiny nod as he took the gifts.

“Thank you very much.” Anton bowed his head a tiny amount, enough for Terentia to smile lightly. “These will come in handy in the battles ahead.”

“Since you aren’t going to join us I’m calling an end to this meeting.” Ricimer grumbled as he looked them over. “A shame that you won’t join us now. I only ask that you don’t cause trouble for Graterious.” Ricimer said as he rose from his chair. “For any of its people.”

“We won’t be.” Anton replied. “Once we have completed the mission to retake the fort we’ll be leaving Porswea and be on our way. I would like to speak with Lord Cassius before then.”

Ricimer opened his mouth but Terentia cut him off. “That won’t be a problem. He’ll make time for you. And offer something far more enticing than gold.”

“Like access to The Academy?”

Terentia pulled an awkward face. “I’m afraid that almost everything related to the Old Gods has been destroyed some time ago. A fire ripped through the older sections of the library about thirty winters ago and destroyed countless tomes and scrolls. Anything of value is now nothing but ash.”

“Oh.” Anton grumbled, Verona didn’t look too happy either. “Thanks for telling us.”’

“I’d rather you not be falsely led to believe you can find your answers there.” Terentia added. “Deceiving people is not a good way to make friends.”

“That it isn’t.”

“I will strategize with my officers and create a plan to take the fortress.” Ricimer waved to the guards at the rear of the tent. “When we are done the assault will continue. Since you are not going to join us I ask that you return to your mercenary company. I…I do ask that you don’t use such large and powerful magic inside the fort. We still want it in one piece when we’re done.”

Anton nodded. Ricimer smiled weakly. “Very good. After the battle is over we will find you.”

He’s got a lot of confidence that this will be easy, even after the pitfall trap. Is it genuine confidence or from ignorance? We’ll find out soon enough.

“Will you be joining the assault as well?” Anton asked the three mages.

“We will.” Vistilia replied. “In a limited fashion. You’ll be able to see how the elite mages of Graterious fight.”

It was something Anton was very interested in seeing, to see if they had anything they used to defend themselves with and if that could be replicated with his magic. So far it was difficult to form the magic into anything than simple shapes. Of spheres and rings. There would be time to experiment later.

“That will be very interesting.” Anton turned to leave when he saw Cetina’s sword resting on her side, and her empty left hand. “I know this is a little odd to ask, but could we have a large shield for Cetina?”

Cetina raised a black brow as he head swivelled around. “I’ll be fine. I-”

“Of course.” Vistilia clapped her red gloved hands just below her chin.

When she held that pose she looked very childish, something he didn’t expect from a powerful mage. She smiled as walked up to Cetina. Cetina took a step back and bumped into the chair. When she turned back Vistilia was only a few inches from her face. Thanks to Cetina’s height she almost towered over Vistilia but her presence shrunk underneath the red robed woman’s gaze. Vistilia pulled off one of her red gloves and ran her hand over Cetina’s chest piece. Cetina looked to them out of fear as Vistilia tapped an old finger on the centre.

“This is very good. Very good steel. Very strong. Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift from my father.” Cetina said straight.

Vistilia nodded. “Did you live in the south east of Bebbezzar?”

Cetina frowned but nodded. Vistilia smiled as she put her glove back on. “I thought so. Your armour and sword look like they’re from the De Yscar family.”

“How do you know that?” Cetina frowned lightly.

Vistilia shrugged. “I recognise the work. A simple and well worked iron. Simple yet beautiful. Very useful when fighting off the Clansmen raids.” She turned to the elite Graterious guards and their gaudy armour. “Functional and clean, compared to their useless flamboyance. It would serve you so much better than their armour against one of Clansmen’s mighty axes.”

Was that the problem they faced? Increasing Clansmen raids? Either way I don’t think Cetina’s going to talk about it yet.

Ricimer scoffed, he probably bought his armour and his was the more ornate, so it seemed like she was making an offhanded jab towards him.

“So you need a shield to match.” She looked back and to the two mages and they agreed. “What sort of shield did you use?”

“Umm…” Cetina looked in their direction but Anton held his face firm. This was her gift and he shouldn’t interfere. It might also help give her a bit more confidence, just a tiny drop, when they confront her father. She looked to her sword. “I used a large rectangular plain iron shield.”

“Iron?” Vistilia shook her head. “That simply won’t do for…not for you.”

She waved a soldier over and whispered in his ear. The soldier glanced to Ricimer when she was done but when he nodded the soldier followed her order. He returned a few moments later with a large rectangular shield and presented it to Cetina. She took it with some hesitation but took it all the same. The shield was quite large when she held it, the top was just below her chin and a foot off her thick leather boots. If anything it looked like some sort of tower shield. Her original shield was smaller, he didn’t know how she was going to fight effectively with it. She retrieved her sword and readied a stance. With the shield covering most of her body she held her sword to the side. She practiced a few swings and bashes with the shield. Anton didn’t know anything about fighting with a shield but she looked very strong and confident with her new shield. She flashed them a smile as she sheathed her sword, a tiny frown formed on her face as she ran a gloved hand over the top rim of the shield.

“It’s very light.” Cetina bounced the shield up and down. “It’s about a quarter of what I had before.”

“It’s made from iron, titanium and even some Chelium running through it.”

Chelium…That’s the blue metal. We’ve got a few swords made from that back in Atros. Strong and very light if I remember correctly.

“I can see that.” Cetina tilted the shield forward as she ran her hand over the top again. “How much did this cost?”

“A considerable sum.” Ricimer said quietly as he folded his arms, the metal plates grating against each other.

“Material goods are worth nothing in the long run.” Harprax said, earning a scornful gaze from Ricimer. “You can be the wealthiest man in the world but it doesn’t matter when you’re dead.”

Ricimer raised his hand to retort but stopped. There was nothing to object to.

“Is this really for me?” Cetina looked to the mages. “I don’t have any magic.”

“You would be surprised how many mages can be killed by a simple soldier.” Vistilia huffed dramatically. “One arrow or sword strike would kill us far more easily than it would you.”

Cetina nodded and looked back to the shield. “If this is for me…then, thank you. I’ll use this well.”

“I hope you do.” Vistilia’s eyes grew quite serious. “Make sure you do. Make sure you do.”

Anton didn’t know what to make of her last sentence. Neither did Ricimer. Vistilia’s face returned to the smile. “Thank you for meeting us. Cetina, Anton, Kal and Verona. It will not be long before the assault begins again. You should get as much rest as you can. We will be seeing you again very soon.”

---[]---

Once outside, and walking back to the mercenary section of the camp, Anton let out a huge breath of relief.

“Yeah.” Verona chuckled as she massaged her shoulder. “I feel that way too.”

“I didn’t think it would go bad, like it could have with Duchess Belinda, since they just wanted to know who we were.” Anton nervously chuckled. “But that still wasn’t the easiest thing we’ve done.”

“They’ll be watching us from now on.” Kal turned back to the command tent.

The soldiers remained at their posts but he knew they would be watching their movements very closely from now on. While they hadn’t done anything wrong they wouldn’t just allow people with their skills and abilities just to roam free. Alfred mentioned something similar when they were in Qaiviel. At least here they didn’t have to worry about being attacked for following their gods. Kal was still unlucky in that regard.

Kal groaned as she scratched at her mask. “With this thing on I can’t see, smell or hear how I used to. I’d be able to tell if they were following us if I didn’t.”

“We’re just going to have to add our eyes and ears to yours.” Anton wrapped a hand around Kal’s. “Once we’re out of the city and away from people it’ll be pretty hard for them to sneak up on all of us.”

When he held Kal’s hand tightly it easy to tell that it wasn’t a human’s hand. All they needed to do was not let anyone touch her and she should be fine.

“Do you think they were about to try and force us into the army?” Cetina asked. “I mean you three could easily…”

“Not if they didn’t want an angry Blood Berserker they wouldn’t.” Verona spoke defiantly.

“I mean, those mages got quite scarred when you said you can…do what you do.”

Anton couldn’t disagree with that. Something had rattled them but he wasn’t sure what. If anything they seemed more than happy to be rid of them, even though they might have been more of a relatable negotiator than Ricimer. Still, they had gifted Cetina a new shield, one she kept close. She seemed far more relaxed to have the security of a shield once more.

“Thanks for getting me this.” Cetina held up the shield. “It’s really good. Far better than my old one.”

“Not thinking about getting another sword?” Verona asked.

Cetina shot her a dirty look as she furiously shook her head. “The shield was just a piece of metal to me. This.” She patted the pommel of her sword. “This means a lot to me.”

Verona nodded as they continued walking through the army section of the camp. The Graterious soldiers rested inside the tents or in large huddles around small fires. Some were eating while most kept very quiet and checked their equipment over. Judging by how they looked they were ready to move out right now.

“It’s good they told us about the academy.” Anton spoke to break the silence. “No point using that as a bargaining chip now. Though…I don’t know if we can trust them. We didn’t ask Ricimer about that…Though he probably would have said the same thing.”

“We’ll just have to ask Lord Cassius when we see him.” Verona said. “There’s no way we won’t get his attention now. Three mages, all of which use the powers of the Old Gods.”

“Not if Ricimer wants more fa…”

The mercenary tents were directly in front of them now and were abuzz with activity. Many of the mercenaries were seated and chatting amongst themselves while quite a few were standing and keeping watch towards the army section of the camp. For them, it appeared. Upon stepping around the last tent blocking their view many of the mercenaries vaulted up and ran towards them. Kal whimpered and used Anton as a shield as hundreds of mercenaries ran towards them, Citrio and Livia at the forefront.

“You made it out of there alive.” Citrio pointed out when he was a few meters away, a thought shared by Livia.

“I’m glad that you ran away.” Anton forced a silly smile on his face.

Livia threw up her hand in apology as the mercenaries began to crowd around them. “It wasn’t brave but we still wanted to live.”

“Well, you fight for money and there wasn’t anything in there for you.”

“What did they want to know?” Citrio asked.

Anton hesitated to explain he was the one to release the six flame pillars. He wasn’t sure what their reaction would be. He smiled and shrugged.

“Who we were and what we were doing. The standard stuff. Not really exciting if I’m honest.” Some of the mercenaries were getting very close and had completely surrounded them. Kal was becoming increasingly nervous and Anton wrapped an arm around her waist. “Now!” He raised his voice startling some of the mercenaries. “We need to get some food and rest before we start the assault again. We overheard that it wouldn’t be long before we head attack again-”

“Really?” A mercenary asked. “After all that?”

Anton nodded. “So we’re going to get some rest and I suggest you do the same. So could you please move?”

He gently pushed on Verona’s back for her to go first. She picked up on his intention. “Come on!” She yelled and forced an opening. “Time for everyone to get some rest before we have to fight again. Come on, move it.”

The mercenaries quickly realised they weren’t going to be discovering what happened and lost interest. The news they were about to head back into the fight was far more important than some potentially juicy gossip. Citrio and Livia joined in the chorus for the mercenaries to clear out and get some rest. A path formed as the mercenaries cleared and they made for the tent containing their packs. The mercenaries present said nothing as they moved to their packs as sat on the dry grass, Cetina sat next with them while Citrio and Livia sat to the side. No one spoke a word as they began to nibble on their food and get what rest they could before the next assault began.

Chapter 087. Vol 3 - Into the Breach

Chapter 087:

Twenty minutes passed in relative peace before a noise broke their silent wait. A single loud trumpet resounded throughout the camp. The other mercenaries groaned as they finished off their meals and rose to their feet, grabbing their weapons and armour while giving them one last check.

“I wonder if it’s going to be a simple plan this time as well.” Anton said as he rose to his feet. “Something a little more imaginative than charge up the middle.”

“They probably wanted to give the soldiers a little break.” Cetina explained as she picked up her new shield. “It’s easy for you guys but most of the soldiers are in full metal plate. Even mine’s heavy and tires me out if I have to run, even though I’m used to wearing this.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Verona opened the small clay pot on her hip. “This is a little old. Can I get some more?”

“When we’re on the way.” Anton replied. “When everyone’s focusing on the Goblins and not us.”

Verona looked around to see the mercenaries still in the tent glancing towards them. Anton’s explanation hadn’t answered any of their questions so they were undoubtedly still curious what happened. He pushed them out of his mind and checked over his own armour. When he was certain it was fine he saw Kal looking around rather nervously.

“Are you alright?”

“I…I think so.”

“You think someone’s watching us?”

Kal nodded. “That’s definitely going to be happening, for some time I think, and probably right now too…but…I don’t know. Something feels a little odd. I can’t really explain it. It does feel like someone’s watching me…There’s just that feeling running down my spine.”

“Keep close to us and point out anything you think that’s odd.” Anton said.

Kal nodded as she checked over her bow and quiver. Anton was quite interested in seeing how the new arrows would function. They all took a deep breath before heading back into the light. Outside the soldiers were already forming into their hundred man units and moving towards the fortress. Behind them the mercenaries were rapidly forming into small groups but were not heading towards the fortress just yet. Anton spotted Citrio and Livia and waved towards them. Both mercenaries returned the wave as they hurried over.

“Any idea what the plan is?” Anton asked.

Citrio had recovered some of his courage from the break and didn’t regard him with the same level of fear that he did before leaving the command tent.

“Yeah.” Citrio replied. “We’ve just got the plan now. Seems like it’s pretty much the same as before. Except this time, once we’re inside the fortress, we’ll be separating into small groups of about fifty, while the regular soldiers keep to their one hundred men groups. That way if there’s more traps it won’t be as devastating to the whole force.”

“That makes sense.” Anton nodded. “Except for those poor people that fall into another trap. I wonder if they’ve done that inside the fortress as well.”

Livia shrugged. “I’ve heard that it’s possible. There are a lot of floors in the fortress. It wouldn’t be too hard to weaken one.”

“I guess we’ll be staying near the back then.” Anton smiled awkwardly. “Has anyone been assigned their groups yet?”

“Not yet.” Livia replied. “We were thinking of travelling with you.”

“For safety?” Verona chuckled as her smiled widened to breaking point. “Kind of like this one.”

She cocked her head back to Cetina. Cetina flushed lightly and turned he head to hide her embarrassment. Anton and Kal chuckled at the sight, as did a number of mercenaries, though theirs were a little more awkward as they were dancing around the issue rather than Cetina’s admission. Regardless, Anton preferred knowing that there were fifty odd people that would stick close to them out of safety.

“Alright.” The mercenaries appeared quite happy to come along. “When we get inside is the plan just to kill every one of them?”

“Basically.” Livia replied. “There’s not much else to-”

A new horn resounded from the south. This was far deeper and distant than the one before, coming from well past the camp perimeter. Over the crest of the hill a large moving mass of red and brown began to creep over. It was another army. But who’s?

“And who are they?” Verona asked, cutting to the heart of the issue.

Livia squinted hard. “Looks like reinforcements of some kind.”

“They’re not wearing any sort of metal armour.” Cetina pointed out. “Looks like leather armour if anything.”

“No…” Citrio looked for a moment before realisation came to him. “I know who they are. They’re reinforcements.”

“And…And why didn’t we wait for them to arrive?” Anton asked.

“Who knows?” Citrio replied. “They might be reinforcements that were late. Though…I don’t know why Ricimer tried to get us to attack early.”

“Any idea who’s leading it?”

“It’s got the insignia of Lord Cassius.” Citrio replied. “So it’s friendly at least. Though it doesn’t look like they’re under Ricimer’s control. It might be a family member…”

Anton agreed. That seemed the more likely answer. “I wonder how Ricimer’s going to take this. Not well I imagine.”

Verona and Kal nodded as the mercenaries began to follow the Graterious soldiers towards the few wooden bridges across the dirt ditches. Once again there was a large bottleneck, one that appeared worse than last time, and they mercenaries had to wait while the soldiers passed. Anton looked back to the hill. The reinforcements had quickly reached and stopped at the perimeter of the camp. Anton spared the tiniest amount of mana to increase his vision for a few seconds, more than enough to get a good look. Each soldier wore thick, sturdy leather armour that had the same pattern as the tough and hardy Ix beasts. Their shields were relatively small and dull, a dark paint over their front, while they held spears or swords in their hands. A few had bows, crossbows and quite a few more had long pikes. They weren’t a rabble of soldiers, rather a carefully constructed army, designed more for manoeuvre than a straight up slogging match like Ricimer’s metal plated army.

When nearly half the soldiers had passed over the bridge a few soldiers rode forward from the new force and straight towards the command tent. Ricimer emerged looking rather furious, flanked by the three mages and several of his officers, and stood in the middle of the camp’s road, his arms on his hips while he stared at the approaching soldiers.

“This should be good.” Anton said as the soldiers approached. “Ricimer doesn’t look too happy.”

“Of course not.” Livia replied. “Not when there’s sibling rivalry at play.”

The new soldiers rode right through the camp perimeter and stopped a few meters from Ricimer. Ricimer’s body language spoke volumes of the displeasure the guest was giving him.

“We might want to hear this.” Verona offered.

“I doubt we can just get close enough to listen in.” Anton replied. “But…maybe this is another chance to test out and obtain a better understanding of the prayer power.”

“Do you want me to help?” Kal asked. She seemed quite excited by the prospect of experimenting with her power.

“How much mana do you have?”

“About…Almost all of it.”

Anton patted Kal’s head, to which she cocked it slightly. “That’s very good. You-”

“How much do you have?” Kal asked back, a sternness to her voice.

“About three quarters. I checked the potions the mages gave me and they’re not poisoned. I still want to keep them all just in case we need them inside the fort. ”

“You’re going to need every drop of mana to fight. I don’t.”

He was sure that Kal puffed her chest out ever so slightly. Verona raised a brow but didn’t say anything, rather, she looked a little impressed. Anton really liked it when Kal had this sort of attitude, when she was the one taking charge. A tiny crack formed in her posture but she took another breath and held her hands on her hips.

“Okay.” Anton nodded and looked towards Ricimer. He was already chatting with the new soldier and, judging by his posture, he wasn’t have any fun. “I have an idea.”

Anton leant down to down and whispered what he wanted her to do.

---[]---

Kal listened in silence to Anton’s words. They seemed simple enough to follow. When he leant back up, not very far for him as they were nearly the same height, a faint smile formed on his face.

“Do you think you can do it?”

Kal nodded furiously, the mask straining around her head as she felt it trying to come loose. It hadn’t, she had checked and rechecked the straps every time she had a spare moment, but the fear was always present. Especially in such a large crowd. Often she would, when Anton and Verona weren’t looking, take massive breaths just to calm herself down. It normally worked and after a few more deep breaths she was fine. It surprised her how quickly she became used to the idea of walking and talking to humans, even though most would try and tear her apart the moment they realised who she was.

“I can. It sounds simple enough.”

Kal turned towards General Ricimer and the reinforcement soldiers. They looked quite smug while Ricimer was becoming increasingly annoyed. She glanced to the side, the thin black material covering her eyes hindered her vision a little, bringing her down to what she suspected was human levels of vision, and saw that two thirds of the Graterious soldiers had already made it across the bridges. They didn’t have long.

“Okay. You can do this.” She coughed as Verona jabbed her lightly in the side. “Okay…Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, give me the gift to hear only in a cone in front of me until I wish not to.”

Anton had been very specific with his instructions. He didn’t want her to be deafened if every noise of the camp and soldiers, every creak and groan, every cough and breath, were to rush into her ears at once and to have the option to remove it at any moment.

A small portion of her mana left her, about an eighth, it was hard to guess how much it actually used, as a torrent of sound rushed into her ears. She squeaked in surprise and reflexively covered her ears. Anton grabbed her shoulder and said something. She looked, but didn’t turn her head, and his mouth moved but nothing came out. Rather she couldn’t hear anything coming from the side, not even the bouncing and groaning of the wooden planks.

How weird. Is this what it’s like to be deaf? Anton said there were ways for people, on his world, that were deaf to hear again…Definitely not with this though.

Another squeeze from Anton reminded her of where she was.

Shit. I’m getting distracted by his stories again.

Often, late into the night, they would all snuggle together and listen to the stories of Anton’s world. A strange and fantastical world. Sometimes it was just an excuse to hear him speak as they slowly drifted off to sleep. But reminiscing would have to wait.

She removed her hand, gave Anton’s a quick pat, and focused her attention forward. With the prayer power enhancing her hearing it was completely clear Ricimer and the new man were arguing. While Ricimer looked rather plain, and not at all a General, this new man looked equally unbefitting a leader. His face was hawkish, his eyes sharp and observant, yet he held himself in a jovial state with a wide and dopey smile and unruly curly hair that poked out from underneath his helmet. Kal focused all her attention and listened in.

“I said, what are you doing here?” Ricimer demanded, throwing his hand towards the ground. “We don’t need you, or your peasant rabble, to retake Fort Acadiva.”

“I think you do.” The other man replied. “Considering what you told my father you should have taken this fort by now. With all the men you have, and even the mercenaries thrown in as well, this should have been an easy victory. Even for you.”

“Lord Cassius gave me this task and I intend to complete it. Alone.”

“Is that why you begged on your hands and knees for these mages to come with you?”

Ricimer held his fury in check, Kal heard the grinding of metal and leather as he hands scrunched tight.

“I didn’t and you know that-”

“I bloody well saw you.” The other man barely held back a smile. “I didn’t tell my father because it seemed far too cruel. Even to you.”

Hurry up at tell me your name.

Ricimer appeared to be in a tranquil state of fury and held himself back. “Crispus. I don’t need you here.”

Crispus smiled and moved forward to embrace Ricimer. He stepped back but Crispus was faster. The sound of metal clinking was near deafening but Kal persevered. Crispus leant into his ear and whispered. “After you married my sister it’s the least I could do. Or the least you could.”

Kal didn’t understand the inflection in Crispus’s voice and the man held his smile as they parted. Citrio or Livia might know more. Crispus parted and patted Ricimer’s armoured shoulder, yet another cacophony of sound, and returned to his original position.

“Well…You’re here now.” Ricimer grumbled as he kicked at the grass. “I suppose that we should take advantage of your help. If that’s what you’re offering.”

Crispus chuckled. “Of course. Actually we’re on the way to a little sleepy town near the border with those rotten clansmen. It seems father’s found a major hideout of Tullas Mad Eye’s gang and wants us to pay a visit.” He smiled, one which deeply disturbed Kal. One which she had seen before. And never wanted to see again from someone so close.

“How’d he manage that?”

Crispus winked. “That’s his little secret. Even I don’t know.” He pulled out a small piece of paper, drops and smears of blood covered one side. “Though…I’m pretty sure I can guess how he got it.”

“Hmm.” Ricimer looked towards the reinforcing soldiers. “And will they be enough?”

“Of course. Against bandits my men won’t lose.”

Ricimer nodded but said nothing more. Kal remembered Virgil saying those bandits weren’t like the usual ones. How they were far more dangerous than the usual types that Kal ran away from during her life in Graterious, the type that would run away once a trained sword was thrust towards them. His bravado might go disappear once they get into an actual fight.

“So, will you help us?”

“I said yes before, didn’t I?” Crispus moved to the side of Ricimer and looked towards the fort, a frown forming on his face. “And what happened there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come now. You know exactly what I mean. There’s a giant hole in the wall…and it’s just not here.” His eyes squinted even more. “And why is there a giant hole in front of the wall here? The edges looked burnt.”

Ricimer looked back and straight at them. Kal felt her heart jump as his eyes looked at Anton. While Ricimer had been willing to let them go, on the promise that they would meet Cassius later, she wasn’t so sure Crispus would. He seemed a far more frivolous man than Ricimer.

Ricimer sighed and turned back. “There was an incident.”

“You don’t say…” Crispus looked at Vistilia. “Has it been taken care of?”

“It has.” Vistilia replied softly.

Crispus waited for more information but none was forthcoming. He shrugged. “Good to know. Ricimer, I take it you’ll be attacking from the south, heroically leading your men from the front?” A deranged and knowing smile overcame his face as he clapped his hands together. “Oh. If only there was a way to capture the moment both of us triumphantly meeting in the middle of Fort Acadiva. What a tremendous gift for father that would be.”

Kal chuckled at Ricimer’s obvious discomfort. There was no way that he would be leading from the front or even entering the fort without it being completely secured. Anton looked at her but she didn’t answer straight away. She didn’t know how loud her voice would be.

“True…” Ricimer trailed off for a moment before he regained his composure. “However retaking the fort will have to do.”

“That it will. It’ll still be a marvellous gift for father.”

Ricimer grumbled once again. “My forces will attack from the south in the next few moments. We weren’t planning or counting on your support so the attack will continue as planned.”

“That won’t give us that much time…There’s a breach on the south eastern side. We’ll attack through there and meet you in the centre.”

“Just be careful. There-”

“Oh? Is that concern I feel from you?” Crispus was barely holding together his laughter.

“There was a large pit-fall trap at the base of the fortress and there could be more. My mages say that an Awakened might be leading the Goblins.”

Awakened?

Crispus’s face darkened. “Well, thanks for the warning. I’ll tell the men to be careful.” Any frivolity disappeared. “If one of those squishy pustules is lurking about this thing’s going to get a whole lot messier. Good thing we’re here then.” There appeared to be hint of modesty in the man. “We’ll start our attack immediately. See you in the middle.”

Crispus gave a wave before mounting his horse and returning to his men. Ricimer ground his teeth, loud enough for Kal to clearly hear, probably even without her enhancements, and turned towards them. He checked over his weapon and armour as the mages looked towards him with more than a little concern.

You actually took the bait? Honour must mean quite a lot to you…with your father in law at least. I need to tell Anton what I just heard.

Kal wished for the enhancement to end and a different sound rushed into her ears. The clanking of metal armour, the groaning of wood and the breathing of those nearby returned. She glanced to their side, almost all of the Graterious soldiers had passed and a few of the mercenaries were already travelling over the bridge.

“How’d it go?” Anton asked.

“Good. Really good.” Kal smiled back, though immediately remembering and slightly detesting that he couldn’t see her face. She sighed, which only increased Anton’s confusion, so she waved her hands to placate him. When his face softened she felt happier. “Anyway, I’ll tell you when we’re on the move.”

“So you’ve got something?”

Kal nodded. “Yeah. Something about an Awakened Goblin leading them. One that’s meant to be a squishy pustule, whatever that means.” Anton’s face darkened as he bit onto his lower lip. “I...I remember you saying something like that before.” Kal groaned as she rubbed her temple. “Back at Maxill you talked to Alfred about that.”

Thinking back to Maxill brought back some interesting memories. It made her heart flutter remembering their first night together and the cold she felt just before as she lay dying after slaying the Orc commander Zig. She brushed those thoughts aside and recalled the conversation with Alfred, Duchess Belinda’s butler, the trip before they rushed to Maxill’s aid. He had been confused about the existence, and Anton’s fascination, of such a strange Goblin. Verona grumbled to her side as they started moving towards the wooden bridge.

“If it’s what I think it is I’ve fought one before.”

“When?” Kal asked.

“Before you arrived.” Verona smiled wildly at her. She looked at the mercenaries around them and coughed, especially when Anton had a strange look on his face, one telling her not to blab everything about their secret home. “One was like that. Covered in puss and cysts. It…It wasn’t fun to fight.”

“Nearly killed you.” Anton gently held Verona’s hand, to which she flashed a smile. “I had to ask you for it but my heart ached to see you dive into the fray like that.”

Verona flushed lightly and smiled as she hold his hand. “I did for you. But I did manage to kill the rotten thing. We both know it was very smart.” Verona chuckled once. “For a Goblin. With that white magic it could blow a hole in the wall…Hmm…”

Verona frowned deeply and held her chin tight as she thought deeply about something.

I’m kind of glad I didn’t have to face such a thing. Something that makes them that worried…No thanks.

“An Awakened…” Livia trailed off. “That would explain the pit trap.”

“That’s what Crispus said.” Kal replied.

“Crispus?” Anton asked, a strange smile creeping on his face, one that Kal didn’t understand. She would have to ask later.

“That would be Cassius’s first son.” Citrio replied. “He’s pretty smart but rather…frivolous.” Kal agreed with Citrio’s words. “I don’t really care why he’s here but I’m glad that we’re going to have the extra soldiers with us.”

“Apparently he’ll be attacking the other side of the wall, up another breach.” Kal looked back to see Crispus and his soldiers marching away from the camp. They weren’t going to wait for a combined assault.

“Here’s hoping that they told them about what happened when we attacked.”

Kal smiled, again mentally cursing the mask, and reached out for Anton’s other hand. She entwined her fingers with his free hand. “Don’t worry. Ricimer told them about that, and he didn’t give you up as the person that caused all those scorch marks.” She felt Anton relax through his hand.

“There’s some good news.” Anton said as they began to cross the wooden bridge, bouncing and rocking as the heavy mercenaries walked across.

Kal’s Beast-kin feet were different to a humans, and the boots she wore, while comfortable, felt like they were about to slip forward. Some of the pressure wasn’t on her pads just behind her toes but rather the part of the foot behind. Still, it was the best she’d worn in her life and far better than being discovered. Anton picked up on her light discomfort and she shook her head. She didn’t need to bother him with something so tiny, even though he would take the time to help her through it. That thought alone brought her some happiness.

Time to focus Kal. We take this fort, meet with Lord Cassius, get the boat and held to Danafra. Then it’s simple as finding my mother after nearly twenty winters, buying her and anyone else we can and then getting them back to Atros…Tethra, we might need your help with this. But if we can…I don’t know how I could repay you.

Kal smiled, knowing that there were two people, two that would be with her no matter what, that were risking their lives to help her. She gripped her hands tight, the leather squeaking under the strain, as she looked towards the fortress. It still loomed in the distance with its imposing wall. She took a deep breath and readied herself for what was to come. If her head was stuck in the clouds with warm feelings she wouldn’t be able to reach and rescue her mother. That thought alone gave her focus for the battle ahead.

---[]---

Anton carefully moved across the wooden bridge. While he was sure that it would hold he wasn’t entirely sure. The wood let out terrible groans as the heavy mercenaries moved over but it appeared okay.

“Anton, Verona....” Kal shook her head and looked towards the fortress wall. “What…What was it like when you fought that Awakened Goblin? I’ve never seen one before.”

Anton shook his head. “Only that my magic didn’t work when I tried to kill it with a lightning bolt and it could use this really powerful white magic.” He turned to Verona. “Though I wasn’t the one to fight it.”

“Nothing much to say. Other than it was pretty strong. I couldn’t use my blood shards straight away. I had to use my spear rather than my blood.” Verona glanced up at her spear. “My magic became dull when I tried to hit it…”

“I think that was part of the metal armour that encased it.” Anton said. “That Gliyrhil stuff lay underneath the green Bosciycium husk.”

“That’s right.” Verona smiled warmly at them both. “Darn thing was clever too. It laughed at me when it thought my blood couldn’t kill it. Didn’t stop me from cutting its balls apart.”

Kal turned to Verona and tilted her head. Anton smiled and squeezed her hand. “She isn’t kidding. She’s my tough little silver fox.”

Verona laughed as she threw her head back, Kal grumbled as she wasn’t being flirted with. Anton freed his hand and gave her rear a pinch. Kal squeaked and thumped his side but quickly pulled herself close and returned the favour.

The mercenaries followed the Graterious soldiers across the wooden planks and formed up behind. As before the soldiers stayed with their small hundred man units, forming an unbroken line, while the mercenaries clumped together in their smaller groups. Once again organisation seemed a little messy on the mercenary’s side. It would be difficult to maintain it once they assaulted the fortress itself.

“Where are we going?” Anton asked Citrio.

The man had almost forgotten his fear of Anton, though a tiny twitch of his hand and face revealed it wasn’t entirely gone.

“We’ll head up the side and then into the fortress.” Citrio pointed to the left of the revealed pit trap. “Not right against the wall, in case they throw things down, but it’ll have to do.”

“Right…” Anton turned to Kal. “Keep an eye out above. It’ll be a good chance to show off those arrows of yours.”

Kal nodded furiously as she held her fists close to her chest. He loved seeing her like this, even if he couldn’t see her face.

“You ready, Cetina?” Cetina still appeared a little lost but nodded all the same. She raised her shield and drew her sword. “Alright then.”

“I’m going to need some more blood.” Verona withdrew her blade and ran it along Anton’s palm. She hid herself underneath her cloak until she had taken up another half pots worth. “The other bit still seems okay. Just to be sure.”

Anton healed the wound as a single loud horn resounded from the rear. The soldiers began a slow and methodical advance to the fortress wall, not charging or running so they wouldn’t be tired when they arrived. To the east the reinforcing soldiers were making good time in reaching the other side of the point of the star fortress. While he didn’t know how well they would fight it should at least divide the Goblins forces and attention.

The travel to the fortress was long and uneventful. Again he felt the nervousness and apprehension rise amongst the mercenaries and soldiers. Only fools or those with supreme confidence wouldn’t be at least a little bit nervous when fighting. The reinforcing soldiers disappeared behind the side of the wall as they began to attack in unison.

The fires and smoke had long extinguished themselves around the fallen pit trap, revealing how close they had all been to disaster. A few Goblins were still in some semblance of life, trying to haul themselves back into the fortress, but otherwise the whole area was devoid of life. As their mercenary group moved to the left side of the soldiers Anton scanned the top of the fortress wall and saw nothing. He doubted that would last for long.

As the Graterious soldiers advanced like a sea of metal to the edge of the burnt stones Kal quickly withdrew her bow and nodded to the top of the wall. Tiny specks moved all along the top, their profiles were a little strange to be Goblins with spears. They looked like Kal was now.

The first arrow flew from the wall, he could barely see it against the bright sky, and landed amongst the mercenaries. By some chance it missed everyone but everyone knew what it meant. Every mercenary raised their shields above their heads as they huddled together for protection. Cetina raised her shield and moved beside Anton, more than adequately protecting them all from a small hailstorm of arrows. Quickly a thunderous cacophony resounded around them as the Goblins above loosed everything they had. A few arrows started to get through and yelps of pain emerged. Kal huddled close to Anton and pulled out a Lightning arrow.

“Fuckers.” Livia groaned as the mercenaries huddled together as they advanced. “They can just throw shit down.”

“Cetina.” Kal had Verona tap her. “Move your shield. I’m going to shoot them.”

“Can you actually hit them from here?” Citrio winced as an arrow bounced on the middle of her shield.

“I can.” Kal stepped back, pulled the bow back as hard as she could, and loosed the arrow.

Anton could just see through a tiny gap behind Cetina’s shield. The arrow, loosed by the white bow at maximum draw, flew like a rocket and smashed into one of the small yellow lumps. A brief screech resounded as the arrow erupted in a scattering of lightning, like a moderate sized lightning bomb, striking everything within ten meters. The Goblins nearby vaporised as the lightning penetrated and wrecked their bodies. Large chunks of stone flew into the air alongside the dead Goblins. A new shower of rocks landed on their shields but a cheer rang throughout the mercenaries. Many were stunned but already cheers of praises were directed towards her, something she wasn’t entirely ready for as she hid behind Anton’s back. Anton looked up from the safety of Cetina’s shield. From what little he could see the other Goblins were deeply afraid and had ceased firing. Their barred teeth quickly returned as they drew their small crude bows back for another assault.

“Again.” Anton said, but Kal was well ahead of him.

Another three lightning arrows followed in quick succession. As the first arrow reached the Goblins the second was already in flight. Each exploded in a burst of lightning, taking out every Goblin within ten meters and throwing chunks of stone in every direction.

Kal readied a fifth arrow, her breathing was already slightly ragged, but she held it. Anton looked up and couldn’t see any Goblins on top. He looked to the other side of the fortress and could see many Goblins launching arrows from the wall at the soldiers and the mercenaries. As he judged the range a bolt of blue smashed into the Goblins and sent them tumbling over the wall. Anton saw the stone turn a darker colour slowly. It took a moment before he realised the stone had become wet. He looked back and saw the blue water mage, Harprax, with a large staff in his hand, a large metal tablet on top with eight embedded blue stones. He was chanting something, throwing his hand into the air and another ball of water smashed into the remaining Goblins, the high pressure of the spray coming off the human sized ball cutting through flesh and stone like a hot knife through butter. The ball of water smashed into a giant stone and exploded, harmless spray travelling in all directions. Anton looked to Harprax. He barely looked like he had exerted any effort.

“Looks like they’re finally coming out to play.” Citrio smiled.

“What did he just use?” Cetina asked. There was no small look of awe on her face.

“Just a water blast.” Citrio replied. “A basic skill of the water mages but it can be really dangerous.”

“I can’t imagine what his big spells are like.” Anton commented quietly.

Another horn resounded from the rear. This time Ricimer was almost at the front of a small detachment of elite soldiers and the three mages. Crispus’s words had taken root in his heart and drawn him out to fight. Harprax let loose a few more water bolts and completely cleaned off the right wall. Now neither side was under assault.

“Any of them attack from the front yet?” Anton asked.

“Not yet.” Someone replied. “They’re just letting us in.”

That means they’ve got some sort of plan.

The soldiers move around the pit fall trap and began the ascent up the last fifty odd meters of uneven stone before they reached the breached wall. The going was slow and ponderous for the heavily armoured soldiers. Man slipped and crashed into one another, though none of it looked serious. Just as they moved past the hole, and they reformed their lines, a screech came from deep within the fortress.

A horde of green Goblins, several hundred at least, rushed out from the dark hole with little more than sharpened wooden stakes and shards of sharp rock. The captains barked orders and the men readied themselves. Shields clunked together and were thrust into gaps in the stone as swords were drawn and arrows and bolts loosed. Many died but the surge didn’t break. Their small frames crashed in stone secured shields and were torn apart by hundreds of jabs from steel blades. Every Goblin that crashed into the shields was immediately cut down only for another to take its place. Anton readied a fireball in his mind, something he could throw over the soldiers, but it was unnecessary. After the last Goblin smashed into the shields the captains ordered their men forward, simply marching over the dead and bleeding bodies.

“What did they need us for?” Verona asked. “I’m sure everyone is loving the money but they don’t honestly need us.”

“That’s good then.” Citrio smiled back. “Free money is good money.”

“And it still gets a meeting with Cassius.” Anton added to Verona. “I don’t think the rest is going to be that easy though.”

Verona’s face grew serious as she gripped tight on her spear and pushed forward with the other mercenaries. Kal kept most of her attention at the wall while Cetina kept her shield above their heads.

A strange grumble came from the front as a gap emerged in the advancing mercenaries. A body lay on the ground, a mercenary killed by the Goblin arrows. It was one of the six idiots, the left side of his chest had been peppered with three arrows and one that travelled straight through his jaw and out his neck. He looked to an arrow laying to his side. The tip was very blunt and wide. The angle from which it was fired would have given it a substantial increase in strength but a decent piece of armour may have saved his life. There was nothing to say or do. His power couldn’t bring people back from the dead, nor did he have any desire to bring this one back. Anton followed everyone else’s action and moved around the body. He couldn’t see the other five anywhere.

Someone might have used them as a meat shield. I think that’s kind of sad, though them turning up wearing what they did is even worse.

The soldiers hesitantly entered the breach and advanced inside. Almost immediately shouts rang out with the sounds of combat. Blood and green and yellow body parts flowed forth.

“Where are they coming from?!” One of the first mercenaries yelled out.

Yellow and Green Goblins were bursting out of nowhere and setting themselves upon the startled mercenaries. Though they suffered from having to adjust to the lower light they quickly rallied and cut them to pieces. They slowly continued to advance through the breach and arrived in a very large open section of the internal wall. A series of very wide corridors ran either side while another large breach had been opened on the other side leading into the central area of the fort. The shuffling silver backs of the soldiers jostled as they slowly advanced, the unmistakable cries of combat emerging as a small torrent of Goblin body parts and blood followed behind. Anton agreed with Verona’s sentiment once again. So far they hadn’t really been needed.

Several brightly coloured Empire captains stood just at the back of the soldiers and waved the mercenaries down the corridors. Anton couldn’t see any Graterious soldiers moving down the corridors, only the backs of the mercenaries travelling down the relatively tight stone confines. Anton guessed this is why they were hired, to clear these confined and dark areas without risking the regular soldiers. They had no choice in the matter and travelled down the left side of the fortress with half of the mercenary force. They corridors quickly branched out, up and down. One was picked and they cautiously travelled down the corridor, always watching and waiting for an ambush.

---[]---

The inside of the fortress was a complete mess. While freshly killed Goblins lay scattered and leaking across the floor there was an abundance of older bodies. Human soldiers, wearing a mixture of leather and metal armour, were pilled along the edges of the corridors, their armour thoroughly torn to pieces as the Goblins attempted to loot their corpses of anything of value. Many more Goblin corpses were piled amongst the dead soldiers. It was interesting to see that the Goblins took just as much care with their own kind as they did with the humans. At least they weren’t being stepped on. The smell of rot, the foulness of decaying flesh mixed with an undercurrent of bodily excrement, was especially unpleasant to the senses. Kal spluttered next to him but waved him forward. No one else was entirely happy with their current surroundings.

Ahead another group of mercenaries were fighting furiously against a surge of Goblins from ahead, their shouts and cries, the sounds of metal hitting flesh and stone, echoed everywhere. Even though the relatively narrow stone corridors should have limited the effectiveness of their numbers they were simply crawling over one another and ripping into the relatively unprotected faces and necks of the mercenaries, using the mercenaries’ bodies as platforms to other victims. The tight confines were now working against the mercenaries. Some were starting to fall as flashes of Orange and Purple came through the struggling mercenaries. These weren’t flashes of magic but Goblins.

A pair of Orange and Purple objects dove through the mass and stabbed at the backs of the mercenaries. Their screams were terrifying. Those with bows and crossbows moved forward but hesitated to fire. These Goblins were very fast and hard to get a proper aim on and every second they hesitated was another dead or wounded mercenary. Kal took a shot with a regular arrow and struck the Orange Goblin in the back. The mercenary let out a cry as the arrow had punctured through and struck him, but at least he wasn’t being stabbed.

The Purple Goblin turned towards them. This breed was taller and more lithe than the Yellow Goblins, the type that Anton had decided on being the base type of Goblin. While the Yellows were about a meter tall, more if they didn’t slouch all the time, this one nearly stood perfectly straight at one three quarters. A complete scavenged set of leather armour, including boots and even a blet, had been fitted relatively well onto its body. Each hand held a well-crafted steel dagger drenched in mercenary blood. Compared to the Yellow’s its hands were far more human, even more so than Kal’s, with very small but sharp claws. The face was more like a hawk than the deformed Yellow, the nose long and like a beak, its lips pulled back slightly to give it a permanent sneer over rotten yellow teeth. When its eyes made contact with them the already small pupils contracted to pinpricks, leaving only enraged red irises.

Verona pushed through the mercenaries and activated her power. With one flick of her spare wrist the blood crystallised and flew forth from each pot in two large shards. The Purple’s eyes flickered to the first shard as its body twisted out of the way of the first shard. Thankfully the dead Orange, still attached to the struggling mercenary, caught the shard. The second blood shard caught the Purple Square in the chest as Verona held it back from the first by a few centimetres, piercing through the leather armour and out the other side. Verona grunted as she held out her hand and burst the embedded shard, sending the fragments throughout its body and shredding its insides. The Purple slumped to the ground, the knife tumbling uselessly away, and Verona recovered as much blood as she could, including the shard embedded in the Orange.

“That guy was quick.” Verona mumbled as she refilled her pots, allowing the rest to fall to the ground.

The other mercenaries were stricken in a mixture of fear and surprise and failed to respond. Their companions were still fighting and dying ahead.

“Come on!” Anton yelled, bringing them back to the present.

The last mercenary fell as the surge of Green and Yellow Goblins rode over them. The Orange and Purple hadn’t been the only ones to get through though had proved to be a sufficient distraction. Cetina moved in front of them as she readied her blade and shield. Anton moved to the side and fired a few lightning bolts as Verona threw her blood shards. The lightning and crystallised blood exploded and eviscerated the horde and reduced them to puddles of blood and flesh. Everyone held their breath as they waited for another horde to approach, but none came.

“How…How many was that?” Citrio asked.

“About two hundred.” Kal flatly replied.

“They shouldn’t have…”

“In the open field, no.” Anton continued. “But in here they just crawled over them and they couldn’t kill them fast enough…Maybe if they had spears…No, they would have wanted shorter weapons…Anyway, we need to get into the open. Then this won’t happen to us.”

Anton was a little surprised when everyone agreed with him. His knowledge of military matters was very limited but apparently it was correct. Now it was just a matter of getting out of the corridors. They had come across many doors but they had no idea which way led to the upper walls. If by emerging early they lost some of their pay, so be it. They really didn’t need it and the other mercenaries knew they couldn’t collect or spend the reward if they were dead.

“Any clues on how to get out?”

“There’s bound to be a door somewhere.” Livia pointed at some of the smaller mercenaries. “Sneak ahead and see if there’s a door leading upwards.”

The smaller mercenaries, who Anton immediately thought to be scouts, grumbled but did as they were told, readying their shorter weapons and moving over the dead bodies. Anton thought it was strange but perhaps an instruction, no matter what it was, was preferable to standing still and waiting for something to find them. Either that or Livia had some sort of authority that Anton wasn’t entirely aware of yet.

“I want to have a closer look at the Orange Goblin.” Anton said.

Verona frowned lightly. “Whatever for?…Do you want to dissect it again?”

“Not right now-”

“Doing what?” Cetina asked.

Verona chuckled. “One of the first things that I saw Anton do was rip one of those Goblins apart to see how it worked. Very endearing…”

Cetina looked to Anton and then to his hands.

“It was with a knife.” Anton said, Cetina continued to look a little disturbed as did the other mercenaries. “I want to see what’s different about that one, other than its skin. That Purple one was really fast.”

“Hang on.” Kal fired another three arrows into the Orange Goblin, still pinned to the dead mercenary. Each landed with a satisfying thump and squelch but the creature didn’t move. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Good call.”

All four moved forward with their weapons raised. Cetina kept her shield and her sword ready to fight, just in case a Goblin was playing dead. Kal knocked another arrow and kicked the foot of the Orange Goblin. It was completely loose and lifeless. Kal hesitantly retrieved her arrows and moved to the side for Anton.

Anton knelt down to the Orange Goblin and pried it off the dead mercenary. Verona and Kal let out strange groaning noises and Cetina visibly recoiled at the sight. While the Purple Goblin was approaching a human physique this was the complete opposite. Strong muscles bulged underneath the tight and leathery orange skin, several places had ripped to reveal a dark and dry red flesh underneath. It wore no armour and only a loincloth styled piece of cloth to cover its groin, the same level of care the normal Greens and Yellows had. The claws had grown considerably and were jagged and sharp with many hooks along the edges, like a sharks tooth, the same for its feet. The mouth though, the mouth looked like a deep sea creatures; all teeth and nothing else. These too had the hooks running on the inside of its teeth, far larger than on its limbs. Hunks of flesh were still embedded in its teeth, wet and dripping down its dead throat. The face itself was more flat and square than the Yellows or the Purple though clearly still a deformed humanoid. It was a hideous mass of flesh.

“Wouldn’t want a whole bunch of these things tearing at us.” Anton took Verona’s blade and prodded around its mouth. “Imagine if we had to fight a few hundred of these things…And their teeth. Or that purple one and its blades. That one seemed really smart. Or at the least, quick.”

Verona agreed. “Thank the Gods we didn’t have to fight these…back home. I’m more worried about that Purple one than the Orange. That thing moved really fast. Having fifty of those come at you at once would probably be terrifying. Especially without magic like mine. They’d just dance around swords and spears.”

“They’re strong but they still die to an arrow.” Kal pointed out as she looked at one of her arrows. “I haven’t seen any like this in my time in Graterious. I didn’t make a habit of getting close to their nests, but...”

“They take so long to breed.” Livia began. “That’s why there aren’t more of them.”

“At least this isn’t the first time they’ve been seen. I’d be terrified if there were.” Anton admitted as he stood up. “Just one, without my magic, would make me want to run away.”

“From what I remember it’s about a season for them to come to adulthood.” Livia said. “And they’re very rare to be born in the first place. One in tens of thousands, that still need to grow up in their society. So we don’t see them often…Thankfully.”

Anton nodded and looked back to the Orange Goblin. He thanked any god that was listening they didn’t have to face these varieties when he arrived. Atros would not exist.

“We’ve got a whole bunch of doors up here.” A scout yelled back. “We need some help to get the open.”

Help or do they not want to be alone? I don’t blame them if it’s the second.

Livia waved them forward and they began to move. It felt very wrong and disrespectful to walk over the bodies of the mercenaries but they had no choice. Everyone moved with hesitation, like their boots would offend the dead, but moved across them regardless. Something underneath the thinning pools of blood caught his attention. Two bodies looked completely different to the others, these didn’t have armour. Another two of the six idiots. A man and a woman, torn to bloody shreds by the Goblins attack. With such a high amount of exposed flesh they were an easy target for the Goblins to sink their teeth and claws into. Their role as a meat shield didn’t work too well though.

Verona scrunched her face up as she passed. Being around so much blood was clearly grating on her mind. She grabbed Cetina’s arm, Cetina raised a brow but didn’t say anything, as she used her to help her across the piles of bodies.

Kal stopped next to Anton as he rose up from the body. She grunted as she saw the bodies.

“I wonder what they were doing.” Kal asked aloud. “What made them think they could actually do this? How desperately did they need the money?”

“You remember what Verona said?” As Anton started walking forward he held his hand out for Kal to take. She took it and followed him across the floor.

Kal nodded. “Their breaths reeked of…you know.”

“Maybe they owed a lot of money…To their pimps.” He glanced back at the bodies. “Who really knows? But there’s another three somewhere. Hopefully they’re doing better.”

Anton and Kal were the last to pass over the dead bodies. Verona ground her teeth as she slapped her cheeks when he approached, Cetina threw her an odd look.

“I’m fine.” She exhaled deeply. “Just a little too much in such a small space. I’m alright now. Just need to take a few breaths.”

“What’s wrong?” Cetina asked.

“Um…It can get a little bad for me if I’m surrounded by so much blood.” Verona smiled awkwardly. “It can play with my head.”

“But I thought that, since you control it...”

Verona shook her head and she rubbed her forehead with her free hand. “Nah. It’s how I use the power, it can make things a little bit difficult for me to concentrate.” She smiled at Anton. “It’s getting a bit easier to control each time. Like I’m getting used to it.”

“Right!” A mercenary at the front yelled. “We’ve got light. We can get up top from here.”

Two large mercenaries held a large wooden door, one thoroughly attacked by the Goblins with evidence of being barred from their side. Streams of light came through the door from above and Anton could just see a flight of stone stairs leading up. Anton looked along the corridor and saw nothing other than more dead bodies. From behind he heard more movement, several more groups of mercenaries were coming towards them. He had no idea if they would be only one’s on the surface or the fighting would already be over. The Graterious soldiers and the reinforcements might have already cleaned everything up. They were tearing through the Goblins when they last saw them and that was some time ago. A tiny clang through the door told him otherwise.

“Let’s go.” Livia pointed towards the door. “Better than being stuck down here.”

A mercenary passed through the door and slowly advanced up the stairs. He kept low and his weapons drawn but didn’t encounter anything. He gave a wave and motioned for everyone to follow. They slowly and delicately advanced up the stairs, as a group of mercenaries behind them caught up. They were covered in blood and wounds but looked otherwise okay. There were far less than the fifty in their group.

Now I know why they wanted us to go through the corridors first. They don’t have to pay us if we die and we’ll do whatever we can to live…Its kind of sick but it’s a cost saving measure. Not one that’s good in the long term. Having pissed off mercenaries is a good way to have really experienced and coordinated bandits.

As they advanced up the stairs he heard the tell-tale sounds of metal clashing and shouts of men and screeches of Goblins. They quickly ran up the stairs, the lead scout slashing at a Yellow Goblin that tried to attack, and emerged at the top of the fortress on one of the outer perimeter walls.

Everything inside was a bloody mess.

Graterious soldiers, both Ricimers and Crispus’s, fought a bloody battle in the open courtyard in the centre of the fortress. The several hundred meter space was filled with Goblins, quite a few Orange and Purples amongst a sea of Yellow and Green, all surging like waves towards the soldiers backed up into the south and eastern sections. Ricimers soldiers kept in their shield formation and stabbed and shot everything that came into range while Crispus’s fought them off with everything they had. Anton wanted to help but he couldn’t unleash his most powerful magic just anywhere. He looked to the North West and saw nothing but Goblins.

“I’ll use my flame pillars on the north side.” Anton began to focus his magic. “That should break them.”

As he formed a few flame rings in his mind a horde of Goblins charged up a ramp leading down the wall to the inside of the courtyard. Hundreds of Yellow and Greens, and Anton was disturbed to see a few Oranges in the mass, ran towards them up the stone stairs.

“Do it quickly.” Verona yelled.

She summoned her blood shards and threw them forward. They tore through the Goblins flesh but the tide was too great to steam. Verona grunted as she began to spin the shards up, when they reached her maximum range, and then back down the stairs, forming a shredding belt of shards. Bizarrely the Goblins continued to charge straight through the shards, unknowingly pushed on from behind.

The remaining mercenaries readied their weapons as more Goblins ran along the top of the wall, some leaving other groups of struggling mercenaries, and charged straight towards them. Kal readied a flame arrow and fired at a mass at the base of the stairs. An explosion of flame erupted, just like the lightning arrow, and burned every Goblin it touched. The black spindles and shrieking dead gave the other pause and made them easy prey for the bows and crossbows of the remaining mercenaries. Another shriek along the wall caught his attention, another surge of Greens were coming from both directions.

Anton formed five tethered flame rings, the mercenary group from behind ran up the stairs and were quickly assimilated into the defence, and pushed it as far as he could. A great rush of mana left him when he released the magic.

He waited until the ground began to glow red and the Goblins shrieked in panic. Great holes began to emerge, as if the Goblin sea had parted itself.

“Here it comes again.” Anton yelled to the mercenaries. “Get ready for the light.”

Most covered their eyes and ears as best they could but had to keep their attention focused on the Goblins that had almost made it to them. As the first Goblin collided with their shields the world disappeared in a blinding flash of red and orange and the unmistakeable roar of a fire. Verona covered her eyes with her arm but continued the shredding crystals.

Four flame pillars raced into the sky, destroying everything and everyone inside. Through the roar Anton was satisfied to hear their screams and the popping of the Goblins boiling under the heat. Cetina moved forward and used her shield to protect them from the light and heat. Verona offered her thanks, or at least he was sure she did, it was hard to hear anything over the roar.

As quickly as they had emerged the flame pillars disappeared. All that was left was the blackened remains of the Goblins and scorched stone and earth. Thankfully the ground didn’t open up again. The mercenaries cheered, quickly silenced as the Goblins resumed their charge, but Anton was worried. One pillar was missing.

“Ha!” Verona cried out as she patted Cetina’s arm for her to move. “That’s what you get you little bastards.”

“What’s wrong?” Kal asked. She held his arm, he could tell that she was excited, excited that her flame arrow had worked spectacularly and would easily sell for a small fortune, but she was worried that he wasn’t so excited.

“I made five flame pillars…”

Kal grunted as she released another flame arrow along the wall. It bought them a little more breathing room.

“So where is it?”

“I…I don’t know. I used my magic so it went somewhere…The one that didn’t go off was near the middle of the courtyard.”

Kal’s hand moved to raise her mask but she held back. He heard a chant muttered underneath her breath. Her mask scanned the surroundings until she gripped his arm hard.

“There!” She pointed near where the fifth pillar should have been. “There’s a strange Goblin there. It doesn’t look like the others, more like the Graterious soldiers. It’s got all this puss on it.”

Verona visibly shuddered as she looked into the Goblin mass. Anton looked to. He chanted a quick eye enhancement prayer, to last only a few seconds, and tried to follow Kal’s line of sight. A Yellow Goblin stood near where the fifth flame pillar should have been. Its body was encased in thick metal armour, horrendously warped and bend to fit its form. A thin puss leaked from every gap, especially its mouth. Its arm was held up into the air, with even more puss running down the inside of the metal armour and emerging from its armpits, with a large green crystal held firmly in its hand. However its head, barely visible underneath the warped helm, was staring straight at him. The look of anger was unmistakable and even more intense than anything he had seen from them before. It knew exactly where that magic came from.

“I see him.” Anton grumbled. The magic wore off and his vision snapped back to normal. “My magic didn’t work on him last time, but that was because of the Ghlyirl…but how can it use magic covered in that stuff anyway?”

“We’ll figure it out later.” Verona replied. “We just need to kill it.”

“Right. Kal, this might be on you.” Anton looked towards Kal, she had already retrieved a lightning arrow. “If that doesn’t work…We might need to do it the old fashioned way.”

“That’s a lot of Goblins to go through.” Cetina mumbled.

“I can clear a path pretty easily.” Verona had a wild, and somewhat troubling look on her face. “I’ll just summon more shards and spin them around me. Nothing could get through that.”

“No it couldn’t.” Anton added. Verona laughed as her head darted to the side, following the sound of stones tumbling.

Green Goblins were climbing the stone wall straight up towards them, bypassing the steps and Verona’s magic. Verona swore as the first Goblin’s head emerged. Anton prepared to fire a few lightning bolts but an armoured body moved first. Cetina rushed past and thrust her shield onto the ground just as the first Goblins heads appeared. With an almighty kick she hit the bottom of the shield, sending it careening into their heads and throwing them back into the Goblin sea. She quickly stepped back and swung her sword at the next Goblins to climb up, cleanly cutting their heads in two. Every Goblin that tried to climb the stairs was quickly cut down by her furious strikes and bashes from her shield. Anton wanted to say something but didn’t want to break her concentration.

Kal pulled a lightning arrow and fired at the Awakened using the maximum draw of the white bow. The arrow soared through the air and straight towards the Goblin but there wasn’t a blast of lightning when it landed. Anton flickered his eye enhancement prayer. The Awakened stared at the arrow jutting out of a nearby Green Goblin. It pushed the Green away and barked at the nearby Goblins, an order quickly spreading throughout the Goblin hordes.

“What do I do?” Kal asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

Anton threw several large fireballs into the Goblins trying to climb the side of the stairs. They screamed as the fire melted flesh and fat, slowing their assault. Now they had a bit more breathing room.

“That thing’s just like the other one.” Anton said. “Try…Try hitting one within the blast range of that arrow.”

“Right.” Kal pulled her bow to full drawn and loosed another lightning arrow. This arrow landed past the Goblin and exploded in a shower of sparks. The lightning killed dozens of Goblins but the Awakened, despite being struck by many of the lightning bolts, survived. Kal swore as she readied another arrow.

“Oh shit!” Cetina exclaimed as she stepped back.

Orange claws clambered up the stone and the horrific creatures lunged at her. Again, like with the Ghlotsm, her body and breathing changed ever so slightly. Her sword twisted in her hands as she took another step back and spun her sword around her body in a great arc. The Oranges were torn apart but as she continued her spin it left her without her sword pointed at the enemy. She kept her shield in-between her and the Oranges, two crashed onto the iron tower shield and tossed back into those clambering up, and stepped back towards him again to provide some distance.

Anton saw the look on her eyes as she spun around. The grey and purple eyes that were either happy or full of sadness were completely devoid of emotion. They continued to hold zero emotion as she continued to spin back to her original stance and to slice down another charging three Orange Goblins. Another five Oranges darted around her, now considering her too much of a threat, and dived for Verona’s back. Anton loosed lightning bolts, Kal hesitated to fire her bow as she still had the lightning arrow in her hands, and the killed the Goblins.

“To the right!” Kal shouted to Anton.

He glanced and saw a flicker of Orange. A single Orange Goblin had dived the other side of Cetina and lunged at him, the sharklike teeth dripping with saliva from its enraged open mouth. He readied another lightning bolt, Kal dropped her bow and rushed in front with her rusted blades, but the pinpricked eyes constricted even more as a burst of red blood erupted from its throat. Cetina shouted as she wrenched the sword free to the side and ripped its head apart. The Goblin continued on its path and crashed just before Anton’s feet. When he looked Cetina’s hollow eyes barely recognised him before fading back into emotion.

“Thanks Cetina.” Anton said, Kal said it too, even bowing her head to her. Cetina flushed as she smiled nervously at the creature a few centimetres from his leg. Seeing the blood stained shark teeth made him feel more than a little jittery. While giving up a tiny bit of blood to Verona was fine he didn’t want to know what those horrific teeth would feel like.

Cetina coughed and returned to the top of the stairs, slashing and smashing anything that tried to climb the stone. Thankfully there were only Yellows and Greens now, something that Cetina could easily deal with.

“I’ve got an idea to get that one.” Kal readied another arrow to fire at the Awakened Yellow Goblin. Anton threw a few fireballs into the tightly packed masses of Goblins beneath them to keep thin their numbers.

“Tethra.” Kal said aloud. “May you bless and guide this arrow to its target, so that nothing may block its course.”

Kal loosed the normal arrow into the mass of Goblins. Anton quickly chanted the eye enhancement prayer in his mind to see if it worked. The Awakened Yellow Goblin didn’t move, thinking it was a normal arrow, but let out a terrifying screech as the arrow struck it between the eyes. Its head jerked and body spluttered before the creature fell over dead. The Goblins nearby emitted a strange shriek, one of panic that quickly rippled through the Goblin forces. Now they were scared and confused with their leader dead.

A deeper screech came from near the lines of the soldiers. Almost instantly the Goblins rallied and continued their assault. Anton found the source, another Awakened Yellow Goblin. This one was protected by a ring of Purple Goblins, all staring towards them. The Awakened barked an order towards the Purples as they leapt up and over the crowds of Green and Yellow, their heads used as stepping stones, straight towards them.

“We’re going to need another one Kal.” Anton said. He looked back to see Kal lightly panting. “How much mana did it use?”

“A bit.” Kal admitted. “But I’ve still got more in me.”

He knew that Kal would push herself but didn’t want to tell her to stop. He nodded as she spoke the prayer again and fired the next arrow. Anton secretly thought that it was too far to shoot from but the arrow found its mark again. The Awakened Yellow Goblin fell and the same shriek rang out, demoralizing their army. The Purples running over the heads of the Goblins weren’t affected and continued their charge. Anton waited until they were close enough and fired a storm of lightning bolts, killing many Goblins that weren’t his target, until he obliterated all the Purples.

Kal groaned as she staggered a step and used her bow to stand upright. Anton moved to her and found her arms shaking and her breath ragged. “That…That used a bit more than I thought it would. Only two and it took nearly everything I had…”

Anton smiled as he retrieved one of the vials given to them by the mages, raised Kal’s mask just enough to expose her lips, and held the vial to them. She swallowed the vial’s contents in a second before forcing the mask back down. A few moments passed and the shaking stopped.

“Thanks. I can do that a few more times now. We’d better find out how those are made.”

A single trumpet horn blew from below.

“Charge!” A voice came from one of the soldier captains. “Fight for your Emperor and cleans these vermin from his lands!”

The soldiers cheered and surged forward, cutting a bloody path through the Goblins. Their numbers counted for nothing once they had broken. Soon the reinforcing soldiers picked up the cheer and charge and began to sweep aside the Goblin defenders. Mercenaries began to pour out of the holes and breaches in the stone walls, many looking battered and bloody but still alive. The Goblins had ceased attacking along the wall and were now running about without any direction. Their eyes swivelled about as they desperately tried to find a way to flee, knocking each other over and becoming easy prey for them.

“Let’s finish them off!” Anton yelled, a cheer rang throughout the mercenaries.

Verona used her blood shards to clear the stairs of bodies and allowed the mercenaries to run past and into the Goblins bellow. They followed close behind watching the growing trails of carnage. The soldiers and mercenaries decimated the Goblins and pushed them back so they only controlled two thirds of the central area. Anton threw out a few more fireballs as they kept to the rear but most of the work was done. The Goblins were broken and easy prey now, and he didn’t want to ruin anything by accidentally lighting someone on fire.

“So we’re just hanging back?” Cetina asked. She didn’t seem particularly worried by that, simply asking the question.

“Yep. We’ve killed more than enough to earn our money.”

“Maybe you…” Cetina looked to her blade. “I haven’t got much blood on this yet.”

Verona shook her head as she held her nose tight. “There’s way too much right now for me. If…If we’re not going to be fighting any more can we-”

Anton yelped, something attracting Verona and Cetina’s immediate attention. For a brief moment Anton thought his arm had been stabbed. When he looked, already preparing a lightning bolt in his mind, he saw Kal gripping onto his arm with all her strength.

“We need to go!” She screamed. “We have to leave right now!”

“Explain.” Anton demanded. There was no time to dance around the issue.

“I don’t know.” Kal whimpered as she held her head. “It’s everywhere. All over my fur. Like I’m being stabbed a billion times on every part of my body...And it’s coming from the centre of the fort. We have to go! Now!”

Her voice was almost a shriek by the end, something he had never heard from her even when she was dying. He glanced towards the centre only to see several fully enclosed mercenaries behaving the same way, clutching at their helmets while shouting and pulling their comrades away from the battle. They seemed just as confused as he was.

“Okay…” Anton pushed Kal towards the stairs. “We’ve done enough. Verona, Cetina, let’s go.”

“Right.” Both replied at once.

As they ran up the stairs Kal’s affliction grew worse. By the top she was almost crawling on all fours as her hands desperately clawed at her head, shuffling up using only her elbows. Her legs kicked wildly and almost removed a boot in the process. Anton picked her up and moved her against the wall. A few seconds passed and she seemed better.

“Kal, what’s happening?” Verona asked.

“I don’t know.” Kal groaned as she scratched at the back of her hands. “I don’t know. I just know we need to run and get out of here.”

Verona shot Anton an extremely worried look. Cetina banged her shield on the ground and looked down the stairs. Citrio and Livia ran up to join them.

“What’s the matter?” Citrio asked. “Thanks to you we’ve got them on the run.”

Both of their attention was placed on Kal, clearly the source of their concern.

“Why are some of the other mercenaries acting so odd?” Anton asked.

“No idea.” Citrio replied. “They just started saying they needed to run. I don’t know why but they really sound like-”

A deafening thunder clap came from above. Verona glared at Anton, her face draining of all colour when she realised it wasn’t him. Kal stood up and gripped tight on his shoulders as she looked towards the source. Above the centre of the courtyard ripples of red lightning ran a hundred meters above them, quickly coalescing into a sphere. Verona backed towards Anton and held his hand, Kal too.

No one spoke as the lightning continued to grow. Below the fighting stopped. Every Goblin stared slack jawed at the red lightning, uncaring or even unaware of their surroundings. The soldiers too were stunned. They looked to one another, confusion clear even given the distance, before one dared a jab. The spear slid through the Goblin’s chest and fell down dead, its head still staring at the rippling and growing red lightning. Nearby Goblins didn’t notice its death and remained perfectly still. Mercenaries and soldiers cheered and charged forth, carving their way through the stationary Goblins. The red lightning contracted to a single point before firing towards the ground, forming a giant sphere that threw off bolts of red lightning for over thirty meters. The impact blew away every Goblin nearby and every red lightning bolt fried the Goblin and carried through to the next.

The sphere stopped the charge of the soldiers as they were brought back to reality while the Goblins remained still, despite so many of them dying from the arcing lightning bolts. Very quickly a cleared circle emerged around the sphere while the surviving Goblins continued to stare unmoving. Shouts emanated from the soldiers as they began to retreat to the wall.

“Should we head down there?” Cetina asked quietly.

No one answered, and it looked like she didn’t really expect one, as they watched in silence. The red lightning settled down and formed a smooth red sphere. An occasional red lightning bolt would fly off but nothing compared to before. Through the red sphere an image began to come through, of a different place, one not of this world or of Earth.

Long brown grass moved gently with the wind. On the end of each blade was a hook, but it took Anton a moment to realise they were also moving independently of the wind. Tiny white flecks moved through the air, snapped up by the hooks and pulled down to the ground. What he thought was brown grass was actually the feelers and graspers of a plant, one like a sea anemone, that grew in large clumps. Endless fields of these strange plants spread out in every direction that he could see through the sphere. To the uttermost right stood another strange plant. A mixture of a pine tree and a mushroom, a very odd layered tree, stood lonely in the field of grass anemones. These too had the feelers, smaller than the grasses, which picked up the small white dots floating through the air. The more he looked the more white dots he could see, a constant rain of them fell from the sky.

Above the anemone plants a bright red sun burned in the sky, hundreds of times larger than this world or Earth. The small sunspots and bursts of flame were visible on its slowly swirling body. In the far distance a faint purple hue coloured the horizon with a faint twinkle spattering the purple hue.

Anton moved his head to the side and the image moved as well. It wasn’t like a flat portal judging how it shifted, there was probably a sphere on the other side as well.

“Is that…” Verona nodded to the red sphere. “Where…”

Anton shook his head. “No. I don’t know where that is.”

The image inside the sphere began to shake violently. Every tendril withdrew into the plants all at once, even the tendrils of the mushroom tree withdrew to safety. Something hit the edge of one of the lower levels of the mushroom tree, a tiny flick of sharp barbs ejecting from the edge of the layer, before the sphere collapsed in a blinding flash of light. Thick steam obscured where the red sphere once lay, flowing out and blanketing the still stunned Goblins.

Just as Anton was about to speak a deep growl emanated from the steam. A growl he had never heard before. Out of the steam six red eyes glowed through, arranged vertically in sets of two. They weren’t humanoid eyes, rather thin slits that leaked something orange that dripped from whatever face held them together. A bright glow came from underneath as an orange forked tongue licked up the orange liquid weeping from its eyes. The eyes turned to one side as another set emerged, then another and another. Six sets grew through the dissipating smoke as the red slits moved from side to side, Anton only just realised they were at least five meters off the ground.

Verona looked terrified at Anton while Kal’s hand trembled in fear. Anton didn’t speak. He couldn’t speak. Though almost no one else knew what was happening he did. He knew what these things were. There was no mistaking it. He had spoken of the mission that the Old Gods sent him to this world with Verona and Kal. And now, in a fortress of the Graterious Empire, the Demons, the scourge of civilisation and enemy of the Gods, had arrived.

Christmas update

Hello!

Merry Christmas to everyone. Hope you have a wonderful time!

It's been a while so I thought I should let you know what's going on. After the last chapter, I suffered a little bit of burnout from writing, it also didn't help that I was thinking up an idea for another story that didn't really work out so it kind of added to the feeling that I didn't want to do much writing.

That being said I'm currently editing Volume 2 of the story, Volume 1 really needs a complete overhaul, and I'm seeing how far I've come since then. It's quite cringy to read how I wrote back then and fixing mistakes is taking a bit out of me. I'm currently 15% through the 350,000 words so far and it's quite an ordeal.

So...I'm feeling a bit better and I'll start writing again once Christmas is done and dusted.

That's all I can say for now. Hope everyone has a wonderful time!

Chapter 088. Vol 3 - Six Weeping Eyes

Chapter 088. Vol 3 - Six Weeping Eyes:

Slowly the steam dissipated as the entire fortress watched on in complete and total silence. All Anton could hear was the clinking of metal armour from the stunned soldiers, slowly retreating towards the breach. The Goblins, irrespective of colour or wounds, continued to stare slack-jawed at the groups of six red eyes. Glowing orange forked tongues licked at the weeping liquid emanating from the eyes while also licking the air, like a snake searching for prey.

“What the fuck?” Verona said quietly, gripping ever tighter on his hand. Kal did the same.

“I didn’t think it would happen so soon.” Anton stammered. “They told us that we had more time before they arrived here. And…” He violently shook his head. “We need to be ready for anything. If they are what I think they are.”

“That makes things simple.” Verona glowed red as blood swirled around her.

One set of red eyes looked towards them and constricted ever so slightly. If they were Demons they knew of magic and exactly where to look. The steam had cleared enough for a vague outline of a gigantic black body extending over a meter above the eyes, well over six meters tall. Anton dreaded to think what they would look like in the clear. However, he did not actually know if these were the Demons or not. His gods had not shown him what they actually looked like. So far these creatures had not done anything hostile, other than their portal making a mess of the Goblins, which would make them friendly, for the moment.

“Don’t attack just yet.” Anton gently patted Verona’s free hand. “So far-”

“Greka!” A voice from below shrieked out.

As Anton took a step forward the shriek grew in volume. He stopped himself from taking another step as he saw all the Goblins all screaming in unison. Slowly their slack-jawed faces scrunched up in anger and their eyes hardened. Every Goblin looked towards the steam shrouded black figures and howled even louder, screaming the same thing over and over again until the amorphous noise hurt his ears. The soldiers below were struggling as well, as was everyone with him.

The Demons growled back and advanced, a massive clawed front leg emerged and effortlessly dug through the hard ground with claws as dark as obsidian. The flesh around it…was not flesh as Anton recognised it. Layers of hardened black carapace bulged unnaturally around the root of the claw, as if it had been forced into the carapace. A thin weak yellow liquid leaked around the claw and from many of the joints of the front leg, the same colour that leaked from its eyes.

The screeching stopped suddenly, like a switch had been shut off. The human soldiers below quickly recovered and reformed their lines as best they could. Without warning the Goblins charged towards the Demons, screaming louder and waving their simple weapons in the air. It looked like the parted sea was closing upon the Demons. The Demons screamed and howled as the Goblins dived into the steam, only for hundreds of body parts to fly out with a single swipe of a Demon’s front leg. Still, the Goblins continued their attack as the steam dissipated while the Demons thrashed wildly about. With the steam nearly gone the Demons were revealed in their full horror. Each stood well over six meters tall, a large dog-like creature covered in the black crumpled carapace armour that wept thin orange liquid from most of its joints. The dog face had been elongated and pulled down to accommodate the extra sets of eyes while the mouth was full of razor-like obsidian teeth, just like its claws. Anton didn’t know what to think as he watched the creatures thrash about, blobs of green and yellow, even some orange and purple, clamber onto their backs.

The Demons grunted and rolled on the ground, throwing off many Goblins and squishing more. Their armoured hides cracked and released more orange liquid. Spray and spittle flew in every direction, a large splash landed on a group of Goblins. While it was impossible to hear anything over the chorus of screams he saw they were howling in pain. The Goblins hit by the orange liquid emitted copious amounts of smoke before collapsing onto the ground in an unmoving heap. Even without the eye enhancement he saw their skin and flesh boiling under intense heat. He looked to the Goblins thrown off by the Demons. None were moving or thrashing in the air, some emitted a thin trail of smoke, and landed dead on the ground, only to be run over by their fellows. Though it was hard to tell if such creatures had muscles, in the traditional sense, the way the carapace covered its body spoke of the strength that lay beneath. That and the effortless way they were able to crush and slash at the Goblins.

“What’s happening?” Cetina asked, utterly dumbfounded like the rest of them.

“I don’t know,” Anton replied. “Our enemies are taking out each other?”

Though it doesn’t make sense…What does here?

The far wall of the fortress, on the other side of the still bewildered soldiers, emitted a plume of dust. Rocks tumbled away as a new stream of Goblins poured of the fortress and ran towards the Demons.

“There were more of them?” Verona asked rhetorically.

Still, the human soldiers remained motionless as the Goblins continued to pounce on the Demons, now with sections of carapace hide ripped free, revealing huge sections of dripping orange flesh, though killing the Goblins in the process. The Goblins continued their suicidal attacks, only wanting to end their lives.

Nearly half a minute passed, the stream of Goblins coming from the new breach in the fort ceased, and some of the Demons were looking quite injured. Two were staggering and leaking small streams of orange fluid from their body as they desperately clawed and tried to remove the Goblins crawling over their body. Anton saw a Purple Goblin crawl underneath its leaking neck and stab repeated with a long blade. The Demon gurgled, spat out a huge mouthful of orange liquid, and staggered before collapsing to the ground. It weakly tried to stand but to no avail. After one last tiny roar, the mouth loosely hung open, the glowing forked tongue rolled out, and did not move again. The Purple Goblin that scored the killing blow was nowhere to be seen, probably consumed by the orange blood leaking from the neck wound, all the while the remaining Goblins continued their relentless attack.

Another Demon fell soon after, it too suffering a terrible wound to the neck. It crashed into the ground but was not immediately dead. While it tried to stand the remaining Goblins surged towards it, tasting a kill, and descended upon its head. It didn’t matter to them that they died with every successful strike or crushed by its orange tongue. They were possessed by something to see these creatures dead, something Anton, and judging by the stunned look of everyone around them, had never seen before.

With only four Demons remaining, and the Goblin sea nearly depleted, the Demons changed their tactics. They backed into themselves, even as the Goblins continued their self-destructive assault, and began to glow. Anton retreated far from the edge, taking a quick glance to ensure everyone followed and watched in silence. Quickly the Demons’ orange glow grew insanely bright and then howled at the Goblins. The Goblins did not stop, even as the Demon’s open mouths glowed bright. The Demon’s lower jaw jumped back and its teeth smashed against those above, throwing off hundreds of sparks. Their chests swelled before expelling copious amounts of a dark orange liquid that ignited upon touching the sparks. Four streams of flame through the Goblins. The Goblins disappeared in the flame as the Demons moved the heads from side to side, covering everything in a bright red flame. Near the edge Anton saw Goblins partially consumed by the flame. Napalm was the first thing to come to mind. Napalm covering insanity. Even as their bodies burned and flesh melted away they continued to move forward through the sticky red flame. Those quickly collapsed and were consumed by the fire.

Whatever had possessed the Goblins finally broke and they ran in every direction. They cared not if they ran towards the soldiers or straight into a wall, they simply had to get away. Those that ran towards the soldiers were cut down but the rest were allowed to go. They had bigger problems.

Well over half the courtyard had been set aflame, the Demons safe in the middle. The attack had drained their strength. The four Demons that remained had trouble standing upright. Their chests had shrunk considerably and their large legs shuffled about as their body swayed unnaturally. One howled at the dying flames as they revealed the carnage they had wrought. The scene looked even worse than Anton’s flame pillars. At least those were not clawing through the sea of burning flame, still alive.

“Anton…” Verona gripped his hand tight. “What…Do we do?”

Anton hopelessly shrugged. Kal gripped his hand hard, her claws felt through two layers of leather. Her eyes searched in his for an answer.

“I…Nothing yet.” Anton looked down at the stationary soldiers. “We haven’t done anything to hurt them…They might not even be the Demons for all we know. For now…We just wait.”

Both looked and felt a little reassured, even if Anton did not hold confidence in his words.

The Howling Demon grunted again as it moved towards the two dead Demons. They had been sprayed with the flame breath but the carapace hide showed no signs of damage, only a few flames licked the outside. The eyes contracted tight as it lay its giant paw on the dead Demon’s head. Anton was sure he heard it choke back a cry. The other three moved closer, still staggering somewhat, but did not repeat the action, though they held their heads down for a moment.

Just as the howling Demon looked at the other dead Demon its eyes widened before contracting again.

It was looking directly at the soldiers.

It barked at the three Demons as its tongue licked at the air. They formed a line facing the soldiers, their great claws churned the dirt as they howled at the soldiers. No one spoke a word, not even the captains, as the Demons enraged themselves for a fight. They reared up and smashed their front legs into the ground as their roar became deafening.

“We need to stop them,” Anton said aloud, if only to force himself to move.

As he raced to the edge of the wall something flashed in front of his eyes. It was tiny and fast, but his heart knew what it was. A Demon howled in pain and their stomping stopped. One next to the howling Demon pawed at its face while the others looked on. A crossbow bolt, now engulfed in flames, jutted out of an eye.

Anton looked to the soldiers and spied an armoured soldier shaking, with an unloaded crossbow in his hands. The soldiers next to him looked in disbelief. A howl from the Demons told them all what was coming for them.

This time they pawed at the ground once before charging at the soldiers. Their stride and speed were enormous. Anton summoned a massive lightning bolt and threw it at their feet. The bolt exploded the near-extinguished flames and brought the Demons to a halt. All four dug their feet into the burning ground and looked towards him. For a moment he felt complete and total fear but, out of his peripheries, when Verona and Kal stood beside him he felt that wash away. There was a chance to show that they were not hostile. Perhaps stop any more carnage. Even talk with these creatures.

However…

“Fire!”

Hundreds of bolts flew forth and struck the stationary Demons. They followed the queue of the panicked soldier and aimed straight for their eyes. Many missed but some found their target. The Demons howled in pain, and the Howling Demon looked directly at Anton. What thoughts lay behind those eyes he did not know, but now there was almost no stopping the inevitable.

“Stop firing!” Anton yelled, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Another volley struck the Demons. Some of the bolts were much larger and powerful, throwing off chunks of armour with every strike. Anton glanced down to see large crossbows, probably some sort of arbalest, aimed at the Demons. They fired again and plucked out all bar one eye of the furthest Demon. It screamed, a pitiful scream for a creature so large, and rushed at the soldiers.

Anton sighed internally. He did not know who ordered the first volley but it was pointless to worry about that now. He threw another massive lightning bolt at the charging Demon, striking it in the head. Dust and fragments of carapace armour blew out in all directions, shielding his view as the Demon tumbled and stopped twenty meters from the soldiers. None were brave enough to break their lines and attack.

The Demon staggered up and looked at Anton. Most of its face was missing, strangle knots and layers of an orange flesh lay underneath the carapace armour, but it looked angry. Even though the soldiers were just a few meters away it abandoned its original target and ran straight towards him.

“Run!” Citrio yelled.

He and Livia ran towards the passageway into the wall. In his heart, Anton knew that he would not be able to escape through the tunnels. The Demons would simply crush them or breathe fire along the corridors.

“Fire again!” A voice called out from below.

Anton recognised it this time. Ricimer, in his gaudy golden armour, sat upon a magnificent white horse bellowing orders. A nervous smile graced his face. The volley struck the side of the charging Demon, broke free some armour, but did not stop its charge. The other three Demons howled and charged towards the soldiers. Anton saw the blood drain from Ricimer’s face as they ran towards him.

“We can do this!” Verona cheered to them. Her red marks glowed bright as every drop of blood available swirled above her head. “We have to!”

Anton summoned four large tethered lightning bombs, draining most of his remaining mana, and threw it at the charging Demon. All four exploded at once, deafening his ears and temporarily blinding his sight. Verona solidified the blood and formed a screen in front while Kal drew a lightning arrow. Anton reached to his side pulled out a mana vial and quickly downed the cold contents. As he tossed the empty vial away he heard the clank of metal approach. Cetina had not retreated and stood by them ready to fight. Her eyes flickered between grim determination and the emotionless state when she fought. Nevertheless, he was glad to have another sword at his side.

The Demon had fallen to the ground, its head completely gone. Orange blood poured out from the stump and covered the ground. A limb twitched before it went completely limp.

The mana vial had restored some of his mana, like Terentia said, but not much, perhaps an eighth at best. He spared a brief thought to the three mages, and where they were, but could not dwell on it for long. The Howling Demon broke off the charge at the soldiers and ran towards the dead Demon while the other two continued. Kal loosed her lightning arrow. It found its mark, a strangely small eruption of lightning from the strike, blew apart a good chunk of its armour and staggered it slightly, but it continued its charge. Kal loosed a fire arrow, this one again erupted smaller than normal. The Demon was heavily wounded but carried on regardless towards the soldiers.

Soldiers armed with spears and pikes moved forward and presented a bristling defence. A hailstorm of bolts and arrows flew forth but did not stop the Demons, even though they lost more eyes and sections of armour. The pikes struck the carapace hide and skidded off. Some dug into folds and propelled the wielder back, shafts snapped sending wooden and iron shrapnel in all directions. A final volley of arrows and bolts did not stop their charge.

Then the Demons were amongst them. Eviscerated bodies and sheets of iron flew in every direction as the two Demons tore through the soldiers. Orders were barked, some shrieked, as they tried to fight them off.

Just as Anton readied to fire a lightning bolt at the wounded Demon the Howling Demon reached its dead comrade. Instead of showing respect it lifted the corpse in its mouth and held it up. Like a shield. It ran towards them without any loss in speed, the strength of the Demon was so great. They retreated from the edge of the wall as Verona formed her blood into a massive spear. She raised a hand and threw the spear the moment she was in range. It was slow to move, even with Verona gritting her teeth and shouting in rage. The spear collided with the edge of the dead Demon and punctured its flesh, ripping it from the Howling Demon’s mouth along with a few Obsidian teeth and sending it careening into the ground.

“What?” Verona meekly whimpered, fear palpable on her face.

The blood spear quivered and shattered, returning to liquid as it splashed onto the ground. She scrunched her fist together but the blood would not respond to her.

The Howling Demon reached the wall and began to climb. Its obsidian claws effortlessly guided it up the rough stone wall. Cetina pushed them back and behind her. Her hands were trembling and so too were her legs, but Anton admired her courage.

The first claw emerged on top of the wall. Kal loosed another lightning arrow, blowing a claw completely free. The Howling Demon did not stop and continued to haul itself up. The dog-like head was covered in wounds but filled with rage. Anton used his remaining mana to fire a lightning bolt directly into its chest. The bolt ripped open the chest and exposed the orange flesh underneath. The mana withdrawal sent Anton tumbling to his feet. Verona rushed forward and caught him before he crumpled. As she reached into his side Kal loosed another lightning arrow. The lightning ripped through its body and it collapsed onto the wall. Its hands were still dug into the wall and refused to let go, terrible scrapping noises came from below as its hind legs desperately tried to get a foothold.

“Knock it back!” Anton said to Kal, just as a blue vial was thrust into his lips by Verona.

Kal loosed another fire arrow into its damaged paw, another claw was lost and another injured. The Howling Demon shifted its body so its elbow could act as support. Anton drunk the two remaining mana vials and poured all his might into a lightning bolt. It arced through the air and struck the shoulder of its damaged arm, blowing it almost clean off, with only a thin strand of muscle holding it together. Orange blood poured from the wound at an alarming rate, cascading down the stones. As Anton crumpled once again he found it odd that he could not see any bone.

The spindly remains of flesh snapped and the Howling Demon screamed as it began to fall back. However, its remaining claws found purchase and held it in place. Kal readied another arrow but the Demons’ head lolled around. The paws carapace armour buckled as it hauled itself up and spun its head towards them with its mouth open. There was no glow for a fire breath but the forked tongue extended far beyond the dimensions of its face and tried to strike them.

Cetina, the only person who could move, stepped to the side and raised her shield and sword. Emotion had drained from her face as she silently readied herself. The orange tongue smashed into the shield, denting the shield but stopped the blow. Cetina’s hands shook from the impact and she had been pushed back over two feet, but she held. She cut down with her sword and severed the tongue. The Demon screamed in pain and nearly lost its footing. The severed tongue splashed orange blood everywhere.

Kal loosed the arrow at one of the Howling Demon’s remaining eyes. It struck true, lighting rippled over its face and destroyed all bar one eye. The Demon lunged up, resting its chest on the wall, and tried a final swing. However, it fell short by several meters, deep gauges were torn into the stone throwing up bricks and giant plumes of dust. It staggered back and swung its tongue again. Cetina steadied her shield but, as the Demon whipped its tongue around a tremendous crack ran through the stone beneath. The Demon began to slide away even though its remaining arm held on desperately.

“Yes!” Cetina cried, raising her sword.

The orange tongue still flicked about in the air as it fell back. Perhaps angered by Cetina’s words it tried to continue its attack, but as it fell the tongue rose into the air. Directly at her face. Anton saw the look of stun as the severed end smashed into her helmet, breaking the iron helmet in two and spraying orange liquid over her face. He had never heard a scream so painful before. Cetina dropped her sword and shield, while the Howling Demon’s head fell away, and writhed on the ground, hands desperately clutching at her face. A tremendous thump resounded below as the Howling Demon crashed onto the ground.

“Heal her!” Verona yelled to Anton and Kal.

Anton, still feeling the effects of mana withdrawal, skittered to Cetina’s side. She screamed no words, just pain. He grabbed her hands desperately trying to claw at her left eye but was unable to lift them. A faint hint of cooking pork wafted through the air. Kal raced to her side, keeping a nocked arrow in her hand, while Verona raced to the edge. Gingerly she peered over before running back.

“It’s not moving.” She said as she slid next to them.

“How’s the battle going?” Anton asked. “Have we won?”

Verona shook her head. “No…I mean yes. It’s over. One’s down and another’s torn apart. No idea how many are dead though.”

Anton nodded. Cetina had stopped screaming but she was still in tremendous pain, now grunting angrily through clenched teeth. Her armoured boots smashed onto the stone as Verona and Anton tried to hold her still.

“Cetina!” Anton yelled. “Give me your hands.”

Through the pain she weekly nodded. Anton gripped her hands tight and lifted them up. The insides of her gloves had been burned, but the left side of her face lay in ruins. Though it was only a small amount of orange blood it had horrifically burned the flesh around her left eye. The once grey and purple eye had turned opaque and continued to burn, along with the rest of her face.

Anton used the edge of his cloak to wipe away all the orange blood he could see. The heat travelled through his cloak and glove. He discarded his cloak. Cetina calmed a little but the pain was still raw. She gasped for breath as her body shuddered from shock. He held her hands tight, he could barely feel his through her tremendous grip.

Kal removed a glove and lay her Beast-kin hand on Cetina’s head. Cetina did not even notice as she cried out in pain once more.

“Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, Heal her!”

Cetina gasped as Kal fell to one side, barely managing to use her hand to stop her fall. Verona steadied Kal and retrieved her glove. Kal quietly gave thanks as she looked to Cetina. She had stopped screaming, now steadily quietening to a small whimper, as the prayer worked on her flesh. The cooked flesh healed and flattened, though most of her scars disappeared, with the exception of a scar across the bridge of her nose. Her skin regained its natural lustre and her shaking stopped.

She remained stationary for some time, taking deep breaths before slamming her foot onto the ground.

“Fuck!” She cried out, the second time he had heard her swear. “Is…Is it dead?”

“Yep.” Verona smiled wildly and patted her back. “Fell back and killed itself. Well, it’s not moving.”

“That’s good. Really good. Thank you, everyone. Thank you, Kal.” Kal gave a curt nod. Cetina looked down to see she was holding Anton’s hand deathly tight. She flushed and released them, the blood and feeling returned to them. “Sorry Anton. Didn’t mean to hold it so tight.” Anton chuckled as he patted a hand. “Is that orange stuff gone?”

“Yep.”

“Great…Can you get rid of whatever’s over my left eye? I can’t see anything.”

Cetina smiled. When she looked at Anton he could not help but frown, his worry transferred to her face. Her eye remained opaque despite the healing. Worry quickly transformed into panic as she tried to rise up.

“What’s happening?! Anton! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cetina, stay down.” Kal quietly, but forcefully, ordered Cetina. She resisted for a few moments but finally relinquished to Kal’s orders and lay back down.

“I take it that prayer used almost all your magic?” Anton asked Kal.

Kal nodded. “It took nearly all of it. I could barely keep my head up when I was done. I didn’t know healing took that much. It…It should have worked? Shouldn’t it? I mean, that’s what you did to me.”

It takes a lot but not that much for healing a wound that simple, even if Cetina has a natural resistance to magic.

Anton shuffled closer and lent down to inspect Cetina’s left eye. He touched the skin that was once burned, Cetina tried to move away but Verona and Kal held her still. Unlike the rest of her skin it felt faintly rough, even though the prayer should have restored it completely. He peered closer at her left eye. Her eyelid was still deeply burned as were a few millilitres around her eye. Kal’s prayer had not completely worked, though Anton did not know why. He did not doubt Kal’s work or ability…Thoughts started to bubble in his mind.

“Can you see anything out of this eye?” Anton waved his hand in front of her left eye.

Cetina welled with tears as she shook her head. “No. Nothing. It’s just black.”

“Okay...But everything else feels fine?” Anton held Cetina’s hand tight. She nodded as the tears began to flow. “We’re going to sort this out. I promise you that. But we need to make sure the other Demons are dead. Can you look after her Kal?”

Kal nodded and took Cetina’s hands. She sniffed and cried but tried her best to not completely break down. Anton struggled to his feet, Verona moved to his side and helped him up. Out of the four present she had the most magic left. However, she did not have any blood to manipulate. All the blood that she could manipulate within reach had already been drawn up. Anton offered his hand to Verona but she shook her head. She knew he was almost out of mana.

They moved so they could see the battlefield below.

It was over. Both Demons lay dead, and so did many more soldiers. Both Demons lay in a parted sea of soldiers, their carapace armour hacked to pieces and torn off their bodies revealing the orange flesh beneath. Limbs had been torn off and both had their heads almost completely severed. Pikemen repeated stabbed at the exposed sections, the tips of their weapons occasionally catching fire, while crossbowmen continued to pummel the dead creatures head. One began to move, the soldiers shouted in surprise, and it received a dozen pikes to the face before falling limp once again. Orange blood pooled around their corpses and had engulfed the poor dead soldiers.

Dozens upon dozens of soldiers lay dead and mangled in the courtyard. Many looked to have been crushed by the Demon’s mighty strikes and many, many more burned by spilt blood. Those wounded staggered to the breach in the wall, supported by their comrades. A wave of new people rushed forward through the breach. These were not soldiers, these wore full white clothes with a peculiar six pointed green star on their chests and backs. They raced forward and took the most injured soldiers and lead them out of the fortress, those carrying them gave thanks and returned to the other soldiers.

Looking at what Anton presumed were the medics he saw General Ricimer, still mounted on his horse and still looking utterly resplendent. Not a drop of blood or dirt tarnished his golden armour. He looked quite pleased with himself. Anton wondered how many of his soldiers had died.

“Thank the gods that’s over with.” Verona nervously chuckled. She moved so Anton placed most of his weight on her. “Now…Now what?”

“I don’t know. But we need to get to Ricimer and those mages of his. See what they know about these things and if they can heal Cetina.” Anton looked near Ricimer but couldn’t see the mages bright clothes in the sea of iron. They were still mysteriously absent from the battlefield. “Where the hell were they? They could have helped us fight those things.”

“Yeah…” Verona frowned angrily as she looked back. Cetina had stopped crying but still lay on her back, holding tight onto Kal’s hands. “We’d better head down I suppose. They won’t be coming up here for a while…”

“They will the moment they remember who took down two of the Demons. It shouldn’t take long before they recover their senses. Anyway…Where are Citrio and Livia?” Anton asked as they returned to Kal and Cetina. “I don’t think the corridors collapsed but…”

“They’ll make it out.” Verona chuckled as she knelt next to Kal. “They seem like they’re pretty good at surviving. I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

Cetina rubbed her left eye with the back of her glove and hauled herself up. Verona offered her hand but Cetina refused it. Anton retrieved her shield and Kal her sword. Cetina mumbled a silent thanks as she took back her weapons.

“Thanks…” Cetina sheathed her sword and looked at her shield. It had taken a serious beating but remained in one piece. She looked at her shattered helmet and sighed.

“We’ll get you a better one when we get back.” Anton said.

He avoided naming Porswea. They still had her father to deal with, on top of this mess. Cetina looked at him and smiled weakly. Her nearly white eye was rather distracting. It was a little harsh to say but it was distracting. Anton looked at his cloak and had an idea, one born from Kal. He reached into her belt and retrieved a blade and cut a ribbon off.

“This…This might make things a little easier for you.” Anton present the ribbon to Cetina. She understood immediately. “At least until we can fix it.”

Cetina gently took the ribbon, rested the shield against her side, and quickly fastened the ribbon around her eye. She tugged the cloth and sighed again.

“Fucking hell.” She grumbled aloud.

No one had anything to say.

“Alright. Let’s find those mages and see what they have to say. We can’t just leave here if another portal’s going to open.”

---[]---

They slowly walked down the stone stairs to the courtyard below. The Goblins’ blood covering the stairs made it quite slippery. The loose stones and dead bodies did not help either. Anton took the lead and gently helped everyone down. Verona, feeling a little vulnerable, activated her power and tried to draw up the blood. Only some responded to her command, only the fresh blood that she had freed. With her vials filled she moved with more grace and confidence. Kal remained at the back and made sure that Cetina made it down in one piece. With only one eye functioning Cetina’s depth perception had essentially disappeared. She had the occasional misstep but made it the ground in one piece. She grumbled and rubbed her eye as she nearly stumbled over a loose stone. She waved away Kal as she continued to follow.

The Howling Demon lay dead sprawled on its back with a large puddle of Orange blood grew around its corpse. The carapace armour on its back had cracked in the fall and continued to weep blood. One leg remained pinned up against the stone surface and its head had caved in on itself. The severed long orange tongue hung loosely from its open mouth. Seeing those razor sharp obsidian teeth filled Anton with worry. Everything dangerous in this world, and seemingly beyond, loved copious amounts of teeth. He spied Cetina frown at the Demon but neither said anything.

Anton found a path through the orange blood to the severed front hand.

“What are you thinking?” Verona asked.

“I want some samples…for my special project.” Anton replied. “See how effective it is against it.”

“And if it’s not you’ll be in trouble?” Kal passed her recovered blade to Anton.

Anton nodded. “Yeah. We’ll all be in trouble.” He nodded to the dead and wounded soldiers. “I think it will be but I just want to make sure. Only two managed to do that…”

Atros couldn’t survive an assault like this. Even against just six Demons. But if we had dozens of hand cannons, even proper guns, we could deal with them without such losses. Just another reason to accelerate our plans…Does this mean we skip rescuing Kal’s mother for now? No. That witch said she wasn’t ready yet. I wonder if any Beast-kin are smiths…

Anton focused himself on the task at hand. He reached out and tried to pry a piece of carapace free. A chunk came free with relative ease, though it was cold through its glove. It was very light and felt almost porous. He pocketed a few pieces and retreated before the slowly expanding orange blood. He made sure it was clear of any blood residue before handing it back to Kal.

Anton looked beyond the dead Demon but could not see the once orderly lines of soldiers bearing shields. Their cohesion had completely broken down and they simply wandered about aimless, unable to believe what had attacked them. Their captains were trying their best to rally and reform the lines, with some success, but they too were stunned by the Demons. Oddly fitted and coloured mercenaries mingled with Ricimer’s iron clad soldiers and Crispus’s hardened leather soldiers. Anton had not seen what happened to Crispus’s lighter armoured soldiers as Ricimer’s forces took the main beating. Judging by their hollow faces and the many that just stumbled about the Demons had torn through them just as bad.

Thankfully none had noticed them yet.

He stopped and gathered them in a small huddle. “The moment they realise that we’re here, after killing that thing…and that one, they’re going to swarm us and this time they won’t let us go. I doubt it’ll take them longer than a minute before someone asks who killed the other two. It doesn’t speak highly of them that they haven’t already sent someone.”

Anton realised he spoke an Earth term again, but Cetina did not show any interest in his strange phrase. He did not push it and waved them forward. This time Anton moved Kal directly behind him and pushed through the soldiers and mercenaries. Thanks to their cloaks and the presence of the other mercenaries Ricimers’ soldiers did not question their presence, though many gave them odd looks and stood well back. They pushed through and nearly reached Ricimer before his guards stopped them. At least they were doing their job. Recognition flashed over their faces before it hardened and became professional again.

None looked back to Ricimer, who was rubbing his face with a golden gauntlet.

“Ricimer!” Anton cried out.

Ricimer stopped rubbing his face but held his gauntlet still. Slowly he turned his head towards them. As he let his gauntlet drop free his face deepened into a frown.

“I have half a mind to torture you four for lying to me.” His voice broke near the end. He coughed and began to dismount his horse, a guard came to his side and assisted him. “Just a bunch of travellers?! Just hoping to make some money? A fucking boat?!” He raised a golden finger to them. “You have a lot of explaining to do. Right now!”

“We didn’t know that this was going to happen-”

“Horseshit!” With a flick of his wrist the guards allowed them passage. He grumbled until they were inside the circle. “I don’t believe you.”

He advanced on Anton but stopped when Verona and Kal moved in front of him, their weapons ready. Ricimers guards drew their swords and quickly surrounded them while Cetina kept her sword sheathed but raised her shield. Ricimer’s face drained off all colour.

“I. Don’t. Believe. You!”

“You should.” A slightly scratchy elderly voice spoke loudly from behind Ricimer. “They had nothing to do with this. Of that I am sure.”

Ricimer scowled at Anton before he turned around. All three mages; Terentia, Vistilia and Harprax, slowly walked towards them over the rocky surface. They took their time to avoid slipping on the uneven surface. They did not seem to be fast movers at the best of times.

“And by every god that seemingly infests this world!…” Ricimer took a giant breath. “Where the hell did you old bastards run off to?!”

Terentia, the iron mage, stumbled back from the volume of Ricimer’s rage. His fist had curled tight and the gold plated iron screeched as it ground against itself. Vistilia raised her red gloved hand to placate Ricimer but it was no use.

“If you old scrotums had been here I…I wouldn’t have lost so many men against those…those things!”

“How many men did you lose?” Terentia asked flatly as they cleared the rocky debris.

Ricimer threw his arms into the air. “I don’t know! Hundreds? A lot fucking more than if you three had been up here and fought. Like you Masters are supposed to do!”

All three mages kept silent and their faces blank. Slowly Ricimer began to calm, a redness receding from his neck. Currently, he was the only one screaming in the otherwise silent fortress, even if Anton completely agreed with him. Ricimer coughed loudly and pointed to the mages. His guards surrounded them with their weapons drawn. Terentia threw a quizzical brow but said nothing.

“Now.” Ricimer took another breath to calm himself. “Explain. Explain why you weren’t here before now.”

“We were performing other duties.” Terentia replied.

Ricimer nearly burst a blood vessel as his neck flushed with blood. “What?!” he shrieked back.

Vistilia waved to Anton. “After they killed the Awakened Goblins we felt a massive burst of magic erupt over the centre of the fort.”

Only Kal felt something, and that’s because she’s a Beast-kin. I don’t think you three are…

“So we worked to deal with it as soon as possible.”

Ricimer grumbled and scratched his chin. “But…But why weren’t you next to me doing that?”

Terentia hesitated for a few moments. “We could not risk ourselves against those creatures until we were sure we had completely sealed with the rift.”

“And how did you do that?” Anton asked softly, all attention quickly drawn to him. “I didn’t feel any magic.”

Ricimer frowned when he looked at the mages. Terentia simply smiled. “A follower of the Old Gods doesn’t use mana or magic in the same way we do. Our way is more delicate than the raw power you possess. You lack the…finesse, to feel such things. Especially without any training.”

I can’t say if that’s true or not. Though we all lack training.

Anton simply nodded. Ricimer ground his teeth as he stared at the mages. Finally, he threw his hands up in surrender.

“Fine. But what were those things?”

“Something beyond our world,” Terentia replied. “What they are, I do not know. And I doubt Anton and his friends know anything either. We were simply lucky they were here.”

“Only because you three fucked off,” Ricimer muttered to himself. He looked to Anton. “For your services, in doing what Masters are supposed to do, a reward is certainly expected.” He looked at the dead Demons. “Especially after killing two of those things by yourselves. What price would you accept to work for us?”

“What we really would like is a meeting with Lord Cassius,” Anton replied. “To discuss the things we brought up earlier.”

Again Ricimer frowned, remembering their request for a boat and crew, and slowly nodded. “I will write a letter to my father in law immediately. Soon he’ll be returning to Porswea and he’ll certainly want to hear about this. It’s better that he meets you this way rather than…later.”

“Um…Terentia?” Verona spoke up. Terentia smiled warmly at Verona. “How do you know more of those things aren’t going to keep popping up? It happened once here so what’s to stop more of them? Just six were a pain.”

“We cast a wide-ranging sealing magic over this area. All magics that allow transportation or opening rifts are now blocked.” Terentia seemed pretty happy with herself.

“There’s magic that can do that?”

Terentia nodded. “Yes. Though it’s very costly and difficult to perform. That’s why we were so late.”

Verona bumped his arm. “At least it can be done.” She whispered.

“What about more of these rifts then?” Anton asked. “Couldn’t they just form outside of your casting?”

Terentia nodded. “Yes. They could. But not in the foreseeable future. Casting a magic like that would have used a tremendous amount of mana. Far beyond what a hundred Masters could accomplish.”

“How do you know that?” Ricimer asked dryly.

All three mages smiled. “You must trust us on these matters,” Vistilia replied. “You must trust us.”

Even though you have answers for your actions I still don’t like them. You three were up to something…

“That’s very good to hear.” Anton smiled. “So long as these things won’t be coming back anytime soon. They weren’t fun to fight. And we only fought four. Who knows how many there are on the other side.”

All three mages smiled. Kal squeezed on his hand tight. She did not believe their smile. Still, there was little that they could do about it.

“Many of my soldiers died,” Ricimer grumbled. “So long as you can assure us-”

“So did hundreds of mine!”

A new voice cried out from the crowd. Anton saw a man pushing his way through Ricimers iron soldiers and stopped when he reached Ricimer’s guards. He wore an impressive set of leather armour with curly hair poking out from underneath a tightly fitted helmet.

“Crispus.” Kal whispered.

Crispus’s face was filled with annoyance as Ricimer’s guards refused to let him pass. “Let me through.” He looked at the guards. “Well?”

“Let him through,” Ricimer grumbled.

The guards parted and allowed him passage. Crispus threw a dirty look at the guards and brushed himself down.

“Did you have any idea that was going to happen?” Crispus was not accusatory and looked blankly at Ricimer. “If you had known when I arrived…”

Ricimer shook his head. “No. I did not know. If I had I would have let the two fight it out…How many men did you lose?”

“Several hundred. Many more injured.” Crispus’s face darkened. “I don’t know if we’re going to have enough men to clear out his hideouts after this. Father will be furious if I return without succeeding.”

“If you want you can take all the mercenaries…That are willing to go with you.” Ricimer quickly added. “Very few might be willing to join you but you would have to pay them quite a bit. After what they’ve seen they might just want to head home. I know I certainly do…”

Crispus scoffed. “We’ll see. I suppose I’ll just gather some more soldiers from garrisons on the way. Perhaps hire a few rogues too.”

Crispus turned to Anton, their group still surrounded by Ricimers guards.

“Right…So…Who are they?” Crispus nodded towards Anton. “Who’s he, the Clansmen woman, the one with the mask and the one with the shield? Why are they here?” Crispus frowned deeply. “Wait a moment, you were on that wall weren’t you?”

Ricimer clapped his gauntlets. “Well Crispus, you have your soldiers to look after, as do I. You should probably get back to them and prepare to carry on with your original mission. From what you just said it’ll be a tough one. I wish you the utmost luck.”

As Ricimer waved his guards forward Crispus’s eyes began to dart about. “So who are they? Are they the ones that took down the other two creatures? I know it wasn’t your mages.”

Ricimer said nothing and turned to the mages. Crispus managed to glare the guards down. Were they being paid by Cassius rather than Ricimer?

“What do you think you’re doing?” Crispus took a step towards the guards. “You know exactly who I am and who my father is.” Crispus glared at Ricimer. “And who do you think you are? Huh? I am Cassius’s heir. And since you came along sister doesn’t leave her room…”

Ricimer’s face froze.

“Do you think that-”

“Time for you to deal with Tullas Mad-eye and make Cassius proud.” Ricimer clapped his hands together hard. “No commemorative painting this time.”

The guards nodded and rushed forward. Crispus tried to resist but their strength was too strong.

“You damn shit! You just wait-”

Ricimer simply smiled. Cassius petulantly railed for a moment before the guards lifted him up and took him back into the swarms of soldiers. Anton heard a very loud swear, and then he was gone. He waited a few seconds and Crispus did not return.

When he looked back Ricimer desperately suppressed a smile. “Excellent. He’ll soon carry on north and leave this to us. Cassius’s orders aren’t something you can just go against. Even in circumstances like this.” He appeared to be speaking to himself.

He chuckled and looked at Anton. “It would probably be best for you to leave quickly before Crispus can get his fangs into you. It won’t take him long when he sets his mind to it.”

“We don’t have any horses.”

“We can easily loan you some.” Ricimer checked with a nodding guard. “Four warhorses should be enough to get you back to Porswea quickly.” Cetina whimpered lightly. “Some of my guards will travel with you to ensure you make it back safely. And unmolested. Thank you again for your help and good luck speaking with my father in law. Please don’t upset him, but do mention that I was the one to find you.”

Still clawing for his favour, huh?

Anton gave a quick nod. Ricimer sighed and rubbed his armour down. “I actually need to do my duty to my soldiers as well.”

He mounted his horse and retreated through the breach in the wall. A few guards left with him but most remained. One approached Anton with a roll of paper.

“Present this at the stables and they’ll give you the four horses. Some other riders will travel along with you.” The guard spoke gruffly. He did not wait for Anton to take the scroll. Thankfully he caught it before it hit the ground. The guard gave no indication that he even cared and returned to his original position.

“I guess it’s time for us to leave then?” Anton said aloud. Verona and Kal weakly shrugged while Cetina remained still.

Anton found the mages in a huddle speaking rapidly amongst themselves. They looked worried, pensive even, about something. Their initial good impression was rapidly corroding.

“Excuse me,” Anton said as he approached, gently pushing Verona and Kal along. “Can we please have your help with something before we go?”

Terentia broke from the huddle, her worried face quickly transformed into a smile. Kal bumped him again. Even without a Beast-kin’s sense of vision he could tell her smile was attempting to cover a deep inner turmoil.

“Of course. By the way, I don’t think you need to worry about leaving right away. Ricimer just doesn’t want the chance to let Crispus get the chance to talk to you. That and you might be swarmed by people. There are only meant to be three Master mages here.”

“That’s a relief. But…It’s my friend, Cetina.” Anton pushed Cetina forward. Her boots tried to dig into the ground but Anton kept pushing until she relinquished. “She injured herself quite badly against those creatures. And…She lost an eye doing so.”

Vistula nodded and moved in front of Terentia. She sighed as she held her cheeks with her red gloves. “You poor thing. Loosing such stunning eyes…” She moved forward and Cetina took a step back. “I need to see it to know what went wrong.”

“Can you fix it?” Cetina asked. “They managed to fix everything else with their magic.”

Vistula raised a brow.

“She was hit by one of their tongues and some of that orange blood.” Anton explained.

Vistula weakly nodded. “I still need to get a better look.”

Cetina nodded and walked closer to Vistula. Vistula had to stand on her toes to reach Cetina’s face comfortably. If it was not so serious it might have been funny. Vistula’s gloved hands lifted the ribbon of cloth away searched over Cetina’s face. She whimpered and tried to pull away but Vistula held her still. Vistula finally focused on Cetina’s white eye and pried it open. She frowned deeply. Vistula pulled out a small red amulet, probably a charm, and held it against her eye. It flickered red before going out. Vistula shook it, it quickly glowed red and retained its intensity, and frowned.

“Well…It appears you have Ghlyirl infesting your eye…Quite a lot of it. And it looks like it’s been severely burned too.”

“It was…” Cetina tried to look away but Vistula held her head still.

“My magic can do nothing to fix this, nor can Terentia or Harprax. Ghlyirl inhibits any magic it touches. The skin around your eye has a light discolouration as well…I suspect that was burned as well but they were able to heal that?”

Cetina nodded. “That…That did happen.”

Vistula nodded. “It certainly looks like it. Now…I’m afraid to tell you dear that there’s little that can be done to fix it.” Cetina looked to be on the edge of breaking down. “The only thing that could be done is to remove your eye entirely.”

Cetina’s body went stiff.

“And the flesh infected with Ghlyirl. Then use the same power they used before. That could work...Maybe…”

“Remove my eye?” Cetina glanced back to Anton, her face full of fear.

“Yes. But it may not work. Especially if the Ghlyirl has travelled further into your skull. Which, I think it has, judging by the reaction of this charm.”

Cetina said nothing. She looked down to her glove and scrunched it tight.

“I’m sorry.” Vistula held her scrunched fist. “But I’m afraid that nothing can be done.”

Cetina nodded and dipped her head. “I see. Thank you for telling me.”

“Simply losing your eye isn’t the end of your career as a soldier.” Vistula began, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “You will need to adjust your style but you’ll be just as strong as before. More so if your opponent underestimates you.”

Cetina said nothing, continuing to stare silently at the ground. Vistula opened her mouth to speak but slammed it shut when she received a glare from Verona and Anton. Being stuck in books and a secluded academy for years might hurt one’s social skill. Vistula winced and awkwardly picked at her gloves. The Mages gave a final nod, Terentia and Harprax a much deeper one compared to Vistula, and proceeded towards the dead Demons. Anton patted his hand against the tiny fragment he managed to collect of the Demon carapace.

Anton sighed loudly. “Time to go before anything more stupid happens.”

He pulled Kal close, she still felt a little shaky from mana withdrawal. Verona chuckled and led the way. They only took a few paces before they realised they were missing someone. Cetina had not moved, continuing to stare blankly at the ground.

“I…I can’t…” Cetina managed to mutter. The realisation that she would be disfigured for life had set in, freezing her body like stone.

Verona smiled at Anton and patted him on her way past. She reached Cetina, and without asking, grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. Cetina did not resist, pulled down her cloth ribbon, and faintly smiled as they walked out of the fortress together.

Chapter 089. Vol 3 - Lord Cassius

Chapter 089 - Lord Cassius:

Through the winding plantations and endless fields of crops, Porswea emerged with the rising morning light. The riding had been a little arduous. They rode late into the night before breaking for camp, something that was made a little more awkward by the presence of six Graterious soldiers, specifically, Ricimer’s guards. While Anton would have preferred to remove Kal’s mask and play with her fluffier parts, alongside Verona, he had to hold himself back. The guards were silent and effectively kept to themselves, making sure that they did not leave their sight. Cetina was equally silent. After leaving Fort Acidava she had said very little, often lost in her thoughts and barely initiated any conversation. She would speak, but only enough to satisfy the conversation before returning to her quiet state. Anton and Kal had continued to heal her later in the day but nothing changed. If Vistula spoke true the Ghlyirl was well and truly embedded in her eye. And none were game enough to try the more invasive surgery…

Now with the city in view she came back to life. She did not say anything but her hands gripped harder on the reins, her face hardened ever so slightly.

“Do…Do we have to dress up for our meeting with Cassius?” Verona asked, not directing her inquiry in any particular direction.

Kal rode on a different horse but he could still feel her tense.

“If…I don’t think so.” Anton replied. “Cassius, if he’s actually going to see us, hopefully should understand why we’re in armour. Besides, these are our best clothes.”

Kal grumbled. “They would want us to wear dresses. I’ve never thought of wearing a dress before…Like one a noble wears…”

Anton looked at Kal, then Verona. He had occasionally thought of what they would look like in a dress, something akin to a sundress, but he had never pictured them in something like Duchess Belinda wore. In his mind, Verona looked thoroughly grumpy in the bright red gown while Kal was amazed at the excess and sheer cost. His mind quickly fluttered back to the sundress image, one he stored for later. Perhaps a seamstress here sold something similar. Walking with them around Atros…

“Good.” Verona nodded. “I don’t want to wear something like Belinda does.” Kal nodded furiously. “I’m sure that he’s a busy man. Just like we are. He’ll understand.”

Verona glanced at Cetina. She continued to focus on Porswea with her good eye, her sight never wavering.

The guards led them through the sprawling slum outside the city walls. A few tried to approach but the guards pushed them back. With a furious kick and some pathetic wails, the beggars and potential thieves retreated back into the crowd. Once again the smell of human refuse and civilisation assaulted their noses, Kal held herself together better, but they passed through unhindered to the city gate. With a flash of the writ, the city watch let them through without a second glance.

I wonder if those guards as the gate can read, or if they just see the insignia of Cassius or Ricimer and just let them through? Forgery must be a big problem, especially with that bandit group they’re chasing.

The guards led them to a siding next to the gate, where many carts filled with wood, ores and food were being prepared to go deeper into the city. All dismounted and motioned for them to follow.

“So where is Cassius going to meet us?” Anton asked.

If he is.

“At his palace.” The guard gruffly replied, probably his third or fourth spoken sentence. He waved towards a group of idle Graterious soldiers, in their resplendent roman armour. “But…”

Anton felt a moment of trepidation before he recognised the face of one of the soldiers, the soldier that appeared to be their Captain. It was the same man they had already run into twice during their time in Porswea. The man grumbled as he recognised them too.

“We have to return to Ricimer.” The guard replied. “These men will escort you further.”

The guard handed the writ to the Captain. He studied the contents, everyone stood in silence, with only the sounds of civilisation to fill their ears. Verona and Kal moved close, both girls resting a hand on their blades.

“I understand.” The Captain replied. “We’ll make sure they get to Cassius immediately.” He roughly saluted the guard. “Safe travels.”

The guards barely acknowledged his words and mounted their horses. Without a single glance, they rode out the gate and disappeared from sight.

“What a bunch of rude people.” Anton quietly mumbled, Verona chuckled and squeezed his hand.

“What have you lot done this time?” The Captain asked. “I thought I was done with you lot in Fergus’s shop…And it looks like you’ve managed to get another one. Lucky you…”

Cetina flushed and stammered in equal measure, a creeping red flush rose up her neck. She coughed loudly and brought herself back under control. Verona chuckled and bumped Anton’s side.

“Not exactly,” Anton replied. “But she will be coming with us. Where is Cassius’s palace?”

The Captain, after tearing his eyes off Verona and Cetina, waved for them to follow. “Near the centre of the city. It’s the second biggest building in Porswea.”

The Captain led them through the bustling city streets while Anton kept Verona and Kal close, Cetina following closely behind. The soldiers kept the rowdy people at bay when they threatened to close around them in the more narrow sections. It was never deliberate, they barely gave a second glance, but the sheer number of people in some of the tight streets made for some very close encounters. Thankfully only he and Verona got close to Kal.

Slowly the crowds began to thin, the buildings became larger and more expensive and better furnished until the crowds suddenly disappeared. They found themselves in front of a high stone wall completely enclosing a massive wooden mansion, far larger than Duchess Belinda’s. Dozens of armoured soldiers stood at attention outside a large iron door in the stone wall with many more on patrol along the wall. These guards looked just like Ricimer’s guards, as did their attitude. The mansion itself was made from a mixture of a dark stone and wood, hundreds of windows covered the outside and four great golden eagles adorned the corners. Even compared to the surrounding buildings it was clearly leagues more wealthy. And they had no idea what wealth would be on display inside. Anton remembered the ruined mansion of Nonbur’n, and that was a provincial city.

“Everyone here has a massive palace just to show off,” Anton mumbled. “Compensation.”

Verona faintly smiled. A guard standing at the gate raised his hand and brought them to a halt. The Captain handed over the writ, the guard quickly read it and signalled for the gate to open.

As one of the iron doors opened the Captain turned to Anton. “Stay out of trouble this time. Cassius isn’t someone who you want to cross.”

Anton gave a simple nod. The Captain sighed and returned to the city streets. The guards looked expectantly as they waited by the iron door. Without waiting for a reprimand they passed through the door and into the courtyard. Anton stopped and marvelled at what lay before them. The moment the girls saw they stopped as well. There was no way for Anton to accurately convey the small Garden of Eden that lay before him. Small and large flowering trees covered every inch of the garden, bristling with birds of varieties as yet unseen, dozens of small ponds and fountains holding hundreds of brightly coloured fish that swam in shoals. A meticulously maintained path led through the veritable paradise to a single small wooden door into the mansion. Several marble benches sat next to the pathway, free of stains and even a single leaf. It was insanely beautiful.

“By Tethra…” Kal whispered.

Anton agreed. The sheer wealth and invested time on display here was incredible. Was this a tactic or did he genuinely enjoy his gardens?

The guard closed the door with a loud thunk. They were locked inside the garden now. A light clacking along the path caught his attention. A gardener, if they could be called that, walked towards them with a pair of secateurs in her hands. Unfortunately, she did not look dressed for the job. Anton sighed when he saw her wearing a very short skirt with a sleeveless tight shirt. Despite a few of the smaller plants wielding thorns, she did not have a scratch or blemish on her pale skin. Anton caught Verona and Kal looking towards him, he could only shrug. Cassius’s fetishes were his own business.

Just as she was about to speak something burst from the shrubbery and grabbed her from behind. She squeaked in surprise, Anton readied a lightning bolt, before it quickly faded into dull annoyance. The gardener slapped her assailant multiple times until he relinquished his grip around her waist.

“Honestly.” She spoke with a soft and light voice, though her face bristled with anger. “You can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you Virgil?”

Virgil raised himself up and into the light. “No.” He kissed the nape hard. She squealed but did not try to escape. He slapped her rear, a deep slap echoed throughout the garden. “I wouldn’t give that up, now would I? Especially after that squeal.”

She flushed and pushed him away again. Her strength seemed lacking. “Please excuse the delay. My name is Domitilla and I maintain this garden. If you would please follow me Lord Cassius is waiting in his study and expects your arrival soon.”

That guard’s still got the writ. They must have sent a message beforehand. Another rider or a bird of some sort, perhaps something magical?

“So why are you here?” Verona asked. “You’re not actually Cassius are you?” She honestly looked disgusted by the possibility.

Virgil smiled. “Because of all the people in Porswea, I’m the one who knows you best. And I take Cassius’s coin. And…” He grabbed the gardener again, much to her feigned annoyance. “And I get to see her each time.”

“Piss off.”

Anton coughed Domitilla flushed, swatting away his hand from her rear. “Unfortunately I cannot be rid of him. If you will please follow me I will escort you to meet Lord Cassius.”

“Lead on.”

Domitilla bowed and led them through the garden, Virgil only a few paces behind. Dozens of whispered insults were traded before they reached the door. Verona chuckled again while Kal shook her head. Cetina retained her distant look. Anton wanted to get that sorted as soon as possible.

“Do you maintain this yourself?” Anton asked as she opened the wooden door.

“Yes. Only me. I appreciate the world of nature far more than most people that work in this mansion.” She walked inside. “And it’s very peaceful.”

The interior of the mansion was surprisingly spartan, only a few small paintings and the occasional ornament decorated the simple wooden interior, nothing made of gold or even silver. Cassius held modesty in strange places. Either that or most deals were made in the garden, a place to demonstrate his wealth and power, even over nature. They walked through a small corridor, the smell of cooking food wafted through and arrived at the central room of the mansion. This room was very sparse as well, no real ornamentation except for a simple wooden flight of stairs to the next floor. Only a single painting, of a smiling young woman with green eyes and flowing red hair, adorned the walls.

When Domitilla began walking up the flight of stairs it became apparent that she wore…extremely little underneath her skirt. So much so that she might very well be naked underneath. Anton, once again, reminded himself that Cassius’s fetishes were none of his concern. Virgil appeared to know full well of her wardrobe choices and slowed by several paces. A deep, claw-tipped, pinch of pain erupted from his side. He smiled through the pain until it stopped, only when they were at the top of the stairs.

“Do…” Cetina weakly began. “Are we allowed to take our weapons with us? I mean, they haven’t stopped us…”

“You may keep your weapons but please do not use them.” Domitilla flashed a hostile smile. “You won’t get the chance to hurt our lord if you try.”

Cetina simply nodded and continued following.

Is she saying that she’s actually a mage and not a gardener? Judging by her attire she’s not a mage…I shouldn’t judge by appearances. Especially against a woman. At least we’re still immune to poison.

She led them up several more flights of stairs and opened a heavy wooden door. She groaned and pushed with all her might as the heavy door opened. Natural light poured in. They had reached the top of the palace already. A simple garden lay before them, woven into a large semi-enclosed area that covered half of the top of the palace. A thick layer of flowering vines ran above, a vibrant display of blue and pink, the faint sweet smell of nectar rained down. Small birds fluttered between the flowers, desperate to drink the precious liquid. In the centre lay a dark wooden table with seven chairs sitting around it. At the end of this garden lay several large trees, a short fat man standing in front watering the trees.

Domitilla waved them forward. The short man turned around and smiled. His face was a little puggy, reminding Anton of Governor Eilis of Nonbur’n, but he doubted this man was Cassius. Though, there was no real reason for that assumption.

“Hello.” The man bowed as he gently placed a small watering can down. “I am Cassius. I am pleased you could make it this quickly. Please, have a seat.”

Unlike their time at Maxill, there was no one to pull it out for them, not that Anton had a problem with that. They all took their seats, Verona and Kal either side of Anton and Cetina beside Kal, while Domitilla stood to the side of Virgil. He tried to sneak a hold of her thigh but was swatted away with far more vigour. The short man, if he was Cassius, took the seat next to Virgil, with some difficulty, and rested his hands on the table. A brief pause filled the air as Anton stared at the man.

I’m surprised your maid…servant didn’t help you.

“Again, thank you for coming.” His eyes darted around the table. “And thank you for dealing with those creatures that assaulted our forces at Fort Acidava. Tell me, what were they like?”

“Well-”

“Who’s the man over there?” Kal asked quietly, nodding towards the large trees. “Someone’s hiding behind them.”

Anton looked closely but could not see anything. The trees were thick and allowed no light passage. Slowly a figure emerged, one which Domitilla rushed towards. Before she could reach the figure she received an order, bowed deeply and retrieved and placed a chair between the supposed Cassius and Virgil. Both men shuffled away as she stood to one side of the chair.

The man came into view. A tall, lean man with an immaculately maintained beard and hair, hard brown eyes and strong jawline. His clothes were simple but very well-tailored, light brown pants and long sleeved shirt, with two red sashes running from his right shoulder to his left hip. Two simple golden bracelets adorned his wrists, along with a small golden pendant hanging off a chain around his neck. He carried himself with great importance but not from arrogance. He was important.

“It seems that my hiding spot needs a bit of work.” The man grumbled as he took his seat. “It’s never been that quick before. I was going to use Governor Albus for a little longer. See what he could do…” He looked at Kal’s mask. “How did you know?”

Kal said nothing. Anton gently squeezed her leg as she held his hand.

“Not that it really matters now. I am indeed Lord Cassius.”

Cassius tried to speak but began coughing furiously. The coughs were heavy and deep, it sounded like his chest was full. The door opened and another maid rushed out, wearing the same uniform as Domitilla. She moved to his side and held a cloth to his mouth. The attack continued for several more seconds but it was enough to leave Cassius out of breath. A tiny sheen of sweat covered his face and he shook a hand to regain some composure. After giving one final heave he gently pushed her away.

“Thank you.” He coughed again, his voice clear once again. “I am finishing off the remains of a cold. Judging by that I am nearly finished.”

Could that be a ploy of some kind?

“Now, I must thank you personally for your involvement in dealing with those creatures. Thanks to you four we incurred significantly fewer losses than predicted.”

“Do you have any idea what those things were?”

“No.” Cassius looked out of the garden towards a large tall white spire in the north east of Porswea. “Our mages have been searching the libraries but have found nothing. These things are…new. Though the way the Goblins reacted to their presence is equally odd.”

“That it was,” Anton replied.

“I understand…” Cassius produced and unfurled a small piece of paper. Tiny and densely packed writing covered one side. “That my…son in law, Ricimer.” Anton saw the tiniest hint of a scowl at the mention of his name. “Tried to recruit you but was unsuccessful.”

“Indeed.”

“However it mentions that you are open to the possibility of an arrangement…” Cassius frowned as he glanced at Governor Albus, who had been sitting perfectly still and smiling inanely. “So long as you had a meeting with me and…something about a boat?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. I’m not sure what Ricimer has told you about us but we require a boat for the next stage of our journey. Quite a large one. And a crew, of course.”

“For what purpose?”

Anton remained silent. Cassius looked to everyone but no one gave him a reply. He gave a tiny nod and continued.

“Very well. But whatever you could hope to achieve or find on your…travels, I can assure you that, if you were to work with us, I could have it delivered right to you. You would not have to work for your life again, outside of using your magic. Everything could be provided for you. Everything.”

“That is most gracious of you, but I’m afraid that we have to decline such an offer.”

Cassius bit his lower lip. “I see. I’ve also read here that you declined payment from Ricimer and you have yet to return to your guild for your final payment.”

Anton glanced at Virgil, his face remained flat and calm, though it was peeking at the bare-legged woman standing next to him out of his peripheries. “Yes.”

Cassius nodded to Albus who rose from his chair, walked as fast as he could to a small box near the watering can, and retrieved a small bag. When he placed it down it sounded heavy and full.

“This will suffice for your payment. I’m sure that Virgil doesn’t mind his guild not having to pay out some coin.” Virgil chuckled but did not refute Cassius. “And we can arrange for you to receive ownership of one of my boats at Rusaddir. The crew will be your own concern.”

“Thank you. Do you happen to have a spare map of the Graterious Empire, Lord Cassius? The only maps we have are very old and void of lots of information.”

Cassius hesitated for a moment. “If you can assure me that you won’t join with Vulusius or Decimus I can give you detailed maps of every kingdom and empire in the world.”

“We do not have any intention of joining with either of them, especially as you are able to provide anything they could. I understand that you have more than enough reason to see them both dead.”

Cassius gripped his fists hard and desperately tried to hide his fury. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was not going to allow himself to be riled up.

“Indeed. After what that piece of shit did to my daughter…” he scowled as he shook his head. “If I had my senses with me at the time I would probably be emperor. Not some inbred pig to wallow on the throne.” He calmed himself again. “And not wasting so much money preparing for a bloody war.” Cassius sighed loudly. “But there’s nothing that can be done now.”

“Those…creatures.” Anton began. “Despite the good work of your mages, there is a chance that they could return. If we are in Graterious we would like to help but you contacting us could be difficult.” Cassius said nothing, clearly thinking that Anton had more to say. “Do you have a spare piece of paper and two dip pens?”

“Yes…” Cassius gave Domitilla a tiny nod. She scurried off, her skirt rising a dangerous amount, and returned a few moments later with both items.

“Thank you,” Anton said as she gave them to him.

There was one thing he wanted to check before he made another copy of the communication pens. “Are you aware of what sort of magic that we use?”

Cassius nodded. “Yes…I wasn’t entirely sure what to think at the beginning. But…we don’t have the luxury to deny or antagonise someone who can use the power of the Old Gods.”

Albus looked a little dubious while Virgil smiled faintly.

“I personally don’t have a problem with their worshippers. Personally, I’ve never had a problem with them, or have many of my subjects. I just wish they and the Church of the Holy Father wouldn’t fight so often.”

“Who starts those fights?”

Cassius simply smiled.

Anton focused on the dip pens and chanted the same prayer he had for Duchess Belinda. A small portion of his magic left him and flooded into the pens. He took a deep breath as he gently placed the pens down.

“These pens are now linked and they will duplicate what is written. Let me show you.”

Anton wrote on the paper with one pen, the other pen took a moment before it rose and copied his words. All three looked very impressed.

“Impressive.” Cassius looked at the spire again. “If those mages saw how easy making something like this was…”

“I’m afraid that it used a good portion of my magic to make just these two,” Anton explained. “But they do not require any external magic to function and they should work indefinitely. Anyone can use them.”

“Fascinating.” Cassius picked up one pen and looked at the other. When it remained motionless he frowned, but when he wrote and the other copied his actions he smiled. “Truly wonderful. I would be willing to pay you tens of gold coins for sets of these. So much faster than birds or horses. And with no chance of someone capturing the message.”

Didn’t think if someone could intercept these. Though I don’t know how I’ll find that out.

“We may take you up on that offer.” Anton smiled, to which Cassius frowned lightly. “But, before you ask, we will not be selling these to Decima or Vulusius. What about Lord Umbris?”

“Not really,” Cassius replied. “I’d prefer you to not. While we are allies, and we share a deep pain, I do not want him to have this advantage while I do not.”

I’m guessing that after you’ve defeated the Emperor and Vulusius you two will fight it out. It might not be too hard to try and take that last step to become emperor yourself. Or I could be wrong and he just wants it for himself.

“I believe that’s where we’ll be heading next,” Anton said. “But we’ll keep a low profile heading through that territory.”

“Thank you.” Cassius looked at Albus. “Could you please get the maps and write the writ for The Snowberry.”

The what?

“Actually, could you please give me another four dip pens? I’ll make another two sets for free.”

Albus nodded and hurried towards the door. Cassius’s face beamed, just as another coughing fit started. This sounded a little more serious as his head disappeared from sight below the table. Something wet hit the floor. Virgil held his hand as the attack subsided.

“Ugh. I don’t believe I actually have this infection under control.” Cassius wiped the spittle away from his mouth. “Darn thing.”

“I may be able to fix this.” Anton rose from his chair. “If you’ll let me.”

Cassius glanced at Virgil, Virgil nodded. “Very well.”

Anton approached Cassius, he saw Domitilla place her hand on her hip, a strange hardness was underneath her hand. Nevertheless, he approached and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal his infection and disease.”

A small portion of magic left him and Cassius looked healthier. He breathed easier as a hand travelled to his chest. He rubbed it gently and coughed, there was no sign of infection. “That…I don’t understand why those Church people would want this type of magic eradicated.”

Cassius smiled but he rubbed his temple. “Without that dammed cough now my head hurts.”

“That is one way to get rid of pain.” Virgil chuckled. “Just have something worse. Stub your toe to get rid of an ache.”

“Not like this,” Cassius grumbled at Virgil.

“If you will allow me.” Anton placed his hand on Cassius’s shoulder again.

He chanted a prayer to remove his headache but Cassius continued to frown. “Some of it’s gone but…I suppose it lessened the pain a little. Not bad though.”

“Let me try something else.”

He gently poured magic into Cassius. Cassius frowned as Anton’s searching travelled from his hand to his head, while Virgil found his expression hilarious. When Anton reached his jawline his pushed into something. His magic, a white force if he had to describe it, collided with something green. A green smoke. He glanced at Cetina and she frowned deeply. She said nothing but gripped the pommel of her sword. Anton forced his magic upwards and brushed the green smoke away. This was far denser that Cetina’s was. It took nearly a minute of continuous work to clear it, all the while Cassius looked at Anton deeply concerned. When the last wisp was cleared he relinquished his touch.

“Thank you. That worked, whatever it was. It’s gone now.” Cassius smiled as Anton took his seat again, both Verona and Cetina looked at him in concern, he was sure that Kal was as well. “Thank you. That’s been plaguing me since my…daughter died. Those damned mages weren’t able to fix it. But you could…At this rate, I’m thinking of making the Old Gods the state religion if I become emperor.”

“Cassius…” Anton began delicately. “Do you know of any magic that leaves a residue…like a green smoke?”

“What?” Cetina’s head snapped towards him, her face filled with confusion and a growing anger.

“No.” Cassius frowned deeply. “My knowledge of those arts is extremely limited.”

“I found great swirls of it surrounding your mind.” Anton looked at Cetina. “And it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. Though this was so much worse.”

“What does it do?” Cassius was panicking underneath a near perfect façade of calmness.

Anton shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think it’s good.”

“I’ll have to get a mage to investigate this.” He frowned and scratched his chin.

Anton hesitated. He did not trust the three Master Mages of The Academy or anyone else from The Academy, though he might be prejudiced against the others.

“Could I please have one of your bracelets for a moment?” Cassius shrugged and handed it over.

Anton chanted a prayer enchantment on the bracelet, baring the wielder from being influenced by any magic. It drained a good portion of his magic but appeared to work. He handed back the enchanted bracelet.

“This, this should protect you from any more of that magic.”

“Thank you.” Cassius held the bracelet tight. “It seems I have some investigating to do…A good excuse…” Cassius flashed a slasher smile. It disappeared a moment later. “But that isn’t your concern.”

Albus returned with several scrolls in his hands. He passed them to Anton, with a tiny bow, and returned to his seat. He smiled warmly as he knew nothing of what happened to Cassius. He glanced between Cassius’s legs, frowned, and looked back up.

“Kal.” Anton began. “Could you please work a prayer on those pens? I don’t want to use what I’ve got left.”

Kal nodded. “Okay. Just chant the same thing you did?”

Anton nodded as Kal picked up two pens. Cassius, despite being lost in thought, looked at Kal’s mask with great interest. Kal whispered the chants for both sets and let them rest on the table. Cassius reached over and tried both and they worked perfectly. Anton squeezed Kal’s leg, who returned his affection.

“Impressive.”

“Consider those as free,” Anton said. “Any more and we’ll make an arrangement.”

“Thank you. Domitilla, could you please get some mana vials for them? They’re in the fourth draw in my study.”

“Yes, Lord Cassius.” Domitilla bowed slightly and entered the mansion.

Albus whispered into Cassius’s ear and appeared shocked when Cassius replied. Domitilla returned a few moments later with seven blue glowing mana vials.

“Please pick one for me to test.” Domitilla arranged the vials like a fan. “To prove they aren’t poisoned.”

“Does that happen often?” Anton picked the second from the left.

Domitilla shrugged. “Not that I’ve heard of.”

“But it is the easiest way to get a powerful mage.” Cassius continued. “Especially when they’re so vulnerable.”

Domitilla nodded and downed the vial in one go. She showed no reaction and handed the remaining six to Anton.

“I hope these will be sufficient for a gift.” Cassius chuckled. “Very little money has actually changed hands during this. Just things…Well, this is everything that you requested. I’m sure they’ll be enough…so you don’t get involved with our little war. Show the writ of The Snowberry to the harbourmaster in Rusaddir and the ship will be yours. The crew is still your own responsibility.” Cassius rose from his chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some considerable work ahead of us. Far more than I thought when I received this message. Thank you for meeting me today. I will be sure to contact with these shortly.”

Anton took that as the end of the conversation. He took one of the Communication pens as all four rose up while Domitilla moved and opened the door.

“Good luck Anton,” Virgil shouted after them. “With whatever it is you have planned.”

Anton smiled back, Virgil beaming wildly, Cassius deep in thought while Albus looked on deeply confused between them both, as Domitilla led them through the door and back into the palace.

---[]---

Virgil leant against the edge of the uppermost garden and watched the garden below. He watched all five exit the palace, talk a moment with Domitilla, and then leave through the iron gate. All four observed the beautiful garden. Verona, the silver-haired clansmen woman, pointed at something and laughed. Anton pulled her close and kissed her forehead. He saw her pale skin turn red as she threw her head back and laughed. Kal, the one with the mask, appeared to be jealous while the fourth, Cetina kept her face blank. She was incredibly tense during their meeting as if something else was gnawing at her mind.

It was difficult to see over the wall, even from his current height, but he waited until he saw the four appear and enter one of the city streets. He did not know where they were going but he knew that they would create waves, no matter what they were planning.

“I must return to my duty, my lord.” Albus bowed deeply to Cassius.

“Very well,” Cassius replied. “Make sure that preparations continue. In fact, accelerate the plan. Do whatever is necessary.”

Albus bowed again and left the upper palace garden.

Cassius waited until he heard the door close and waited until twenty heartbeats passed. He chuckled as he tapped the pens on the table.

“I’m actually surprised,” Cassius spoke softly behind him. “I thought that you were joking when you told me of those four. One man and three women…That’s impressive.”

Virgil turned back to the table. “Two. The silver and masked one are his. Not paid if I understand things. The other one is more recent, I don’t know about that one. If it weren’t for them I would have died in Soulthor.” The images of that night flashed before him. Eating red meat had become difficult now, everything had to be cooked very well to remove the colour. That and the image of Verona, the Blood Berserker, smiling as she tore apart the Mole Rats made him a little queasy. “Though it still haunts my dreams sometimes.”

“Well…” Cassius looked at his bracelet. “This has been an interesting meeting. Perhaps even productive. Do you believe what he said about me? About my head and the smoke...What is that supposed to be anyway?”

Virgil took a moment. “I’ve never heard about it before but I believe what they have to say. They don’t have a reason to lie to you about this. They’ve only been in Graterious for a short time and they didn’t even know who you were before we met.”

“And this Cetina?”

Virgil shrugged. “She’s part of a Bebbezzarian merchant group that we ran into dealing with bandits. Just the regular type of bandits. I thought I’d seen the last of her and their group after arriving at Porswea. I’ll have to look into that. They seemed like decent people.”

Virgil remembered Cetina’s sister. He grinned but focused himself on the task at hand.

“Okay. But…you’re implying he has lied about other things?”

“Indeed. I told you that they claim, well, not Cetina, the one with the shield and sword, to have come from the wilderness and following visions of the Old Gods for some purpose. Anton claimed to be trying to save the world. Though he only said that once.”

Cassius nodded and rolled his hand for him to continue.

“Well, for one thing, they didn’t even question staying at one of the most expensive hotels in Porswea. Despite claiming they never used money before and had just come into a large amount. I would have thought they would have asked about other cheaper hotels and Inns. They didn’t seem stupid and it was odd they didn’t try and conserve their wealth. Especially if they have such an important task. I found that very odd. That and their sheer power. Far more than any mage I’ve seen before. Except maybe the Masters when they really try. But they can do it without a word…and a smile…”

“But are they are a threat to us?” Cassius asked seriously.

Virgil shook his head. “I doubt it…So long as you don’t attack them. I doubt there would be anything left of this city if you tried to attack him.”

“Are you serious?” Cassius raised a brow.

Virgil nodded seriously, any joviality gone from his face. “I don’t think he appreciated…”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Virgil remembered his words at Soulthor when he first met them. If he had been drunk and tried something stupid…

“What’s with the one with the mask?” Cassius asked. “She, I presume she is a she, could use the same power as him.”

“I don’t know. But she’s very good with a bow. Very good.”

The door opened and Domitilla emerged. A tiny smile graced her face as she returned to Cassius’s side. She smiled and held her hands clasped. Cassius glanced at her then back to the message.

“Did they say anything?”

She shook her head. “Nothing much. A few questions about some of the plants in your…garden, but other than that nothing of note.”

Cassius grumbled. “Oh well. The fact that they said they won’t be joining Decima or Vulusius is more than enough for me. And Umbris. And these communication pens is worth that much again.” Cassius held one in his hand. “Twice even. It’s relatively easy to kill a mage when they’re sleeping…but this. Imagine what our armies would be capable of if our generals could communicate like this. Even down to our captains…We could outflank and encircle our enemies without messages having to be physically carried between, so open to theft and loss. Time is no longer an issue. Organising supplies and reinforcements. With these…”

Cassius chuckled and placed it gently down. He tapped the message. “These creatures that they fought scare me. But they can be beaten with magic and steel…” He scratched his head and frowned. “This concerns me more.”

“Do you want me to investigate?” Virgil asked. “See what someone at the guild knows about green smoke swirling around your head?”

Cassius leant back into the chair. “No. I will make my own investigations. But I do have a mission for you.”

Virgil had a sinking feeling what he wanted.

“I want you to follow those four and find out what they’re doing. Even if they’re not against us I still want to know what they’re doing in the Empire and why.”

“I’d rather deal with Tullas Mad-Eye and his merry gang of idiots.”

“My son will deal with them. Crispus is more than competent enough. Even if he lost some soldiers helping my idiotic son in law.” Cassius shook his head. “They should outnumber them at least six to one, even with their losses. I’m not worried about them now.”

Virgil knew that was a lie. Tullas had been a tremendous drain on their resources ever since he came into being and, with the civil war about to erupt at any moment, Cassius could not afford to leave him running about. They had no idea who he was or where he was based. For all they knew he might be an agent of the Emperor, or anyone, really. Maybe even a mage lead this gang…They had essentially nothing to go on.

“Four people my soldiers managed to pick up provided quite the cache of information.” Cassius smiled. “A bunch of thieves trying to rob an armoury store were caught, turns out they were part of his gang. They didn’t last long before they gave up their master’s hideout.”

“Did you ask nicely?” Virgil teased.

Cassius smiled, closed his eyes and relished his memories. “No. Though their screams were very satisfying. We’ve still got them if you need some stress relief.”

Virgil groaned. He did not like his employer’s propensity for viciousness against his enemies. He had bared witness to one of his sessions against an enemy. That gave him nightmares for nearly the whole spring. Probably even worse than the incidents with the Mole Rats.

“I’ve got better ways…” Virgil desperately avoided looking at Domitillas’ short skirt.

Cassius smiled. “Regardless…Just make sure that you don’t get caught.” Cassius said. Virgil had to restrain a smirk. “I’m not sure how they’ll react.”

“You don’t need to tell me that. I know what I’m doing.”

“True. True.”

“This won’t be for free though. I’m not risking myself against any of them for nothing. Even that one with the sword is pretty terrifying. I’ve seen her fight…”

“I’ll pay you double the standard amount.”

Virgil smiled. “Very well. I’ll get moving before they get too far away. Good luck with finding who or whatever put that smoke in your head.”

Cassius’s face darkened as he nodded seriously and looked at the message on the table. Domitilla opened the door and led him down into the palace. She barely made it down the first flight before she turned and pinned him against the wall. Her knee smashed into the wood just behind his crotch and she dangerously raised her leg with every passing moment.

“Aren’t you mad tod-”

She grabbed his head and rammed her tongue down his throat. They remained embraced, fighting in all the senses, for some time before she slowly retreated. They were both beet red before she took his hand and continued leading him down the stairs.

“They told me where they’re going next and what they’re about to do.” Her voice had turned a little husky as she moved more quickly. “So we have a little time before you need to leave. Understood?”

“I don’t think one of Cassius’s spymasters is supposed to behave like this.” Virgil flipped her skirt.

Domitilla sighed and opened a door to a bedroom. “No one suspects me. And I do enjoy tending to plants and animals. So much more simple and beautiful than humans.” She grabbed his shirt hard and pushed him towards the bed. “Now, do what you’re best at before they’ve dealt with Cetina’s father.”

“Who?”

Domitilla did not answer and threw him on the bed, though he did not resist. She mounted him before he had stopped bouncing on the bed and had already begun ripping off his pants. He sighed and grinned at the same time, he would have to work hard to make sure he did not lose his pay.

Chapter 090. Vol 3 - Strega

Chapter 090 - Strega:

Anton watched Cetina scratch at the cloth covering her eye as they exited Cassius’s mansion. The heavy iron gate closed with a heavy thunk. Cassius’s guards watched them in silence. The meeting had been a success, in so far that Cassius did hate or want them dead and now they had a writ for a large ship, The Snowberry. He hoped it would be enough to hold a fair few people, Beast-kin rather.

But right now there was something more pressing to deal with.

“Cetina.” Anton began, Cetina’s head snapped to him. “Where…Where is your father.”

Cetina winced. She took a deep breath and looked to the east. “Over there. There’s a large barn that my…Father bought. If he’s still there.”

“We’ll get through this.” Verona patted Cetina’s arm.

Cetina smiled weakly and began walking away. They followed closely behind. As they began to enter the bustle of the streets Kal moved to Anton’s side and held his arm.

“What was that you said about the green smoke?” Kal whispered.

Anton looked forward. Cetina had not seemingly heard. “It felt exactly the same as I found before, just a lot more of it. Whatever affected…her family also affected Cassius. It would explain something.”

“Cassius seemed pretty normal to me,” Verona said. “Was that bad cough from the green smoke?”

“Don’t think so. That disappeared with the first prayer. But, remember that story the mercs told about the Civil war?”

Both nodded. “It was a pretty bad story.” Kal held his arm as the crowds continued to grow. “To kill yourself like that…”

“And to be separated from someone you love and…assaulted by some creep,” Verona grumbled and shook her head.

“Yes. But Cassius and this Lord Umbris were willing to go to war over it and would have won, if they hadn’t stopped, for some reason. The same time he started getting those headaches. I think you can guess why.”

Both nodded.

“I can see why someone would want to stop a war that the Emperor would lose, but why…others?”

“No idea. But we’re going to find out.”

They travelled as fast as they could through the city streets. Cetina’s frame continued to grow more apprehensive, and more than once she stopped and had to be ushered forward. In the brief moments he saw her face it was drenched in fear. No one should have to confront their father about something like this.

Finally, Cetina stopped. They stood in front of a large warehouse, conjoined with a large multi-storey house, with a dozen armoured men and women standing out the front. These were dressed in the bright and slightly flamboyant colours of Bebbezzar. While Anton did not know any by name he recognised their faces from their journey to Porswea.

“I…”

“We’re right here with you,” Anton said.

Cetina looked like she wanted to bolt but she held her ground. The Bebbezzar guards slowly looked towards them, all in unison and without any emotion. Dread rose through Anton’s spine as they looked at them.

“Okay.”

Cetina took a single step and stopped. She could go no further without help. Verona and Kal gently pushed her from behind and she started walking again. The guards slowly formed a wall as they approached, their feet moved in perfect unison. They really were like dolls.

They stopped when they were a few meters away. Cetina’s hand gripped the pommel of her sword hard, the guards remained motionless.

“Where is my father?” Cetina’s voice wavered. “Where is he?”

“Not…Here.” One replied. His voice was slow and calculated, but none of Anton’s memory held a guard that spoke like that.

“Where is he?”

“Not…Here.”

“Why did you treat her like shit all these years?” Anton asked.

Cetina glanced back, tears welled in her good eye and her cloth ribbon was wet in the corners. The guards looked at him.

“No.” was all the guard could say.

“What does that fucking mean?”

The guards remained motionless, even as Anton waved his hands about. “Alright. This is getting us nowhere. How about you lot get out of our way and let us in? Or is that too difficult for whatever’s going on in your head?”

“No.”

Cetina’s back shivered. “I’ve fucking had enough you fucking shits treating me like a fucking animal!” She drew her sword. “Now, get out of my way and let me see my dad!”

“Fuck yes,” Verona whispered to Anton. “I might need some.”

Anton offered his hand as Verona drew up some blood. Kal readied her bow and a normal arrow.

No guard moved despite the threat present to them.

“Fuck it.” Cetina advanced as the guards finally drew their weapons. All held their weapons at the same level. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

The guards did not move. Cetina advanced as their swords were pointed towards her. She pushed forward but received a strike from a guard. Cetina stepped back, dodged the strike and swung her own sword down, striking the guard’s wrist. Her sword sliced cleanly through the unprotected flesh and cleanly severed it. She gasped, her hand shook, as she hurriedly stepped back.

“I…I didn’t mean to.” She stammered out but her voice trailed off sharply.

The guard’s stump was not bleeding. Cetina glanced at her sword, it was completely clean, as was the severed hand. Out of the stump and hand, a thick green smoke slowly leaked out. The guard looked down, dropped his shield, and picked up the severed hand. A flicker of recognition flashed over his face before he tried to force the hand back onto his stump. The green smoke mixed and knitted together. When he let go the hand remained attached. He flexed his hand as smoke continued to leak from the wound. The guards looked at the wound before focusing on Cetina. For the first time, they had an actual emotion. Anger.

“This might go badly,” Anton said quietly to Cetina.

Cetina violently shook her head. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t really care about them. I never have. I only want my father back.”

Kal loosed an arrow into a guard. It struck an exposed section between armour plates on her shoulder, but she barely recognised the injury. Anton released a lightning bolt into the leg of a guard. It blew the leg clean off. The guard tried to advance but stumbled forward as she continued to walk without a leg to provide support. She dropped her weapons and armour before reaching for her severed leg. Anton loosed another blast into her crawling body, only strong enough to stun, and she fell still for a moment. Another moment passed and she began to move again.

“Nice try,” Verona grumbled. “But I don’t think there’s a good way out of this way.”

She formed her blood into small daggers and threw them at the guards, all finding a hit. However, no blood came forth, even when piercing their necks, and Verona was forced to withdraw her shards. Kal loosed an arrow into a guard’s head, knocking him flat.

The guards advanced quickly now they knew they were under attack. Every step was made in perfect unison as they advanced. Cetina looked at them and charged. Anton released lightning bolts, Kal as many arrows as she could fire and Verona advanced with her shards flying through the guards. Anton directed his lightning bolts towards the guards in front of Cetina. They blasted into their shields, knocking them free, as Cetina smashed through them with her dented tower shield raised high. With her strength and speed she smashed through the single line and continued through. She did not look back once and ran into the warehouse.

Anton fired more lightning bolts and together they dispatched the remaining guards in short order. While they could take several good hits in the body and limbs they could not handle head injuries or decapitation. Everything else they shrugged off or simply reattached their limbs with the thick green smoke emanating from each wound. Their strength and manner of death reminded him of something from Earth.

He downed another mana vial and knelt beside a headless corpse, Verona approached with her few shards hovering above her head while Kal had her bow nocked and ready. The body was cold to the touch and the wound, after waving away the green smoke, was dried and grey.

“That would explain why you couldn’t get any blood from them,” Anton said to Verona as he stood back up. “They’re dead and decayed.”

“And that smoke was keeping them moving?”

Anton nodded. “I bet these will decay now the magic is gone.”

He had no idea where Cetina was but they could not just leave her alone. Just as he waved them forward the unmistakable sound of metal boots striking stone came from behind. Anton sighed. Someone would have heard the battle and called the local forces. As he glanced at the sound his groan grew even louder. Thirty well-armed city watch members ran towards them, many with shields and several with large crossbows, with a man Anton recognised leading the group.

The Captain shook his head as he approached. “How many fucking times do I have to run into you three? What have I done wrong?”

One of his fellows grabbed his arm harshly and pointed towards the corpses lying behind them.

“And what is this?”

Anton opened his mouth to explain when the sound of snapping wood came from above. Cetina flew out of the second story through a wooden slat window back first, only her sword in her hand, crashing and skidding along the ground. She was furious as she stood back up.

No one said a word as they looked to the destroyed window. A woman moved to the window and looked out. It was Sancha, Cetina’s step-sister. Green smoke leaked from numerous wounds on her arms and hands as she looked out. Her eyes focused on Cetina, struggling to get back up, then flickered to them. Her face paled as she disappeared from view.

Verona raced to Cetina and helped her up. She was shaky on her feet but not because of an injury. She was just that angry. Kal moved beside him and readied a lightning arrow and readied. A few seconds passed before they heard movement from the window. Sancha raced past but Eluria stopped at the window and scowled at everyone beneath her. Unlike Sancha she did not have green smoke emanating from her wounds, rather a green halo spun around her hand and wrists.

“Fucking bitch.” The captain yelled. He looked to his crossbowmen. “Fire!”

They hesitated for a moment before firing their volley. Eluria darted out of the way as the bolts smashed into the wall behind her. Anton swore he saw a flash of green from one bolt.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say there were Strega’s here?” He demanded as he approached.

“I have no idea what those are,” Anton answered.

The Captain swore as he drew his sword and stabbed the corpses. Tiny wisps of green smoke leaked from the fresh wounds. “Fucking witches is what they are. They haven’t gone yet. Not with all this residue still leaking out of the bodies.”

“Right…” Anton waved Verona and Cetina to them as the city watch scanned every possible nook and cranny for Eluria and Sancha.

Anton downed another vial and gave one to Kal. As he felt mana flow back into his body two figures approached from the warehouse’s open doors. Both women approached with an unbearably smug look on their faces, while the green smoke swirled around their heads and wrists.

Eluria chuckled, sickly sweet, and shook her head. “I thought I told you, whore, to never come back. You would have been so much happier with your new pimp.”

Cetina snapped and howled with rage, charging towards her with every ounce of strength she could muster. Eluria chuckled and waved her hand. The coiled green smoke darted from her wrist and shot forth like a snake, striking Cetina in the chest and throwing her into the wooden wall of the warehouse. She shouted and fell limp to the ground. Eluria and Sancha smiled at each other then looked to Anton.

“We didn’t think we would see you again.” Eluria’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I-”

“Is Duran still alive?” Anton interrupted her.

Eluria’s brow twitched. “For now he is-”

“Good.”

Anton threw a small lightning bolt at Sancha. Her eyes widened ever so lightly as the bolt exploded in front of her face. A swirling mass of smoke swirled around her face. A good portion of the smoke had been burned black but slowly regained its original lustre. She looked to Eluria who held total and utter contempt on her face.

“I told you to always be careful. These aren’t peasants.”

“Sorry mother,” Sancha mumbled. “I’ll be more-”

Anton was not going to wait for their conversation to finish. He threw five lightning bolts and a fireball at Sancha, Kal loosed her lightning arrow at Eluria. Both threw up their hands as their attacks collided with the smoke. Blinding flashes and a large burst of flame erupted upon contact. The green smoke had been burned and charred deeply and very slowly recovered. Eluria and Sancha frowned at one another.

“You’re pretty good for a novice.” Eluria chuckled. “If you actually had a teacher you probably could be pretty dangerous.”

Kal drew another arrow and began whispering a prayer. Anton did not want them to hear her.

“What are you two anyway? They called you Strega witches.”

Eluria and Sancha chuckled. “Oh, that brings back some memories. We haven’t been called that for…I can’t even remember. But-”

“Now,” Kal whispered.

Anton released another barrage of lightning, only for the green smoke to block it again. Kal loosed her arrow into the mass, and a scream erupted. When the smoke cleared an arrow jutted out from Sancha’s chest, right over her heart. She looked terrified but more importantly, she was not going down.

Eluria clicked her tongue and ripped the arrow from her daughter’s chest. The arrow was tipped with blood.

“I told you.” Eluria slapped her hard. “To be careful.”

“Sorry.” Sancha whimpered.

Eluria’s eyes snapped up as blood shards collided with the smoke. Despite her best efforts, Verona was slowly pushing them forward. The strain on Verona’s face was palpable.

“What are you waiting for?” The captain yelled. “Fire!”

The crossbowmen fired at the two, a near dozen heavy bolts smashing into the green smoke. However there was only so much smoke they could use and a few bolts made it through, the sickening sound of stricken flesh filled the air.

Anton fired more lightning bolts and Kal another lightning arrow. They too exploded upon contact but the amount of smoke was becoming less and less.

“Fire again!”

As the crossbowmen furiously reloaded Eluria waved her hand and Verona’s blood shards flew away, much to her surprise.

“You aren’t nearly strong enough you little bitch.” Eluria snapped. “You-”

Eluria screamed and clutched at her foot. A dark red crystal protruded through her foot and had dug back into the ground, locking her into place. Anton had not seen the shard travel through the air. The dirt around her foot had buckled and cracked open. A large hole had opened behind Verona’s foot.

Verona smiled at Anton. “Something I’ve been thinking about.”

He would have to ask later. Without waiting another wave of attacks flew forth, now most of the smoke was gone or holding Verona’s remaining shards in one place, and those were struggling. The shards bucked and writhed wildly as they tried to cast of the green smoke.

“Fuck you all.” Eluria spat out. “You’re all beneath us. I am stronger than anyone here, even you.” She looked straight at Anton. “Abomination.”

For a moment it gave Anton pause. That was the exact word Nithroel used to describe him. Eluria took the opportunity and threw a mass of smoke at Anton. He fired bolts at the mass but it was not enough and, without knowing any protection magic, the mass smashed into his chest. Pain screamed and tore through his body as felt, and heard, something snapping in his chest. A lot of things snapping. His inability to breathe was the least of his problems as he fell backwards. His hands desperately, shaking violently, clawed at his chest as the pain threatened to send his mind into the abyss.

Fuck! Tethra, fix this!

It was not so much a prayer as a mental cry, as his mouth was only emitting a continuous pathetic scream. The prayer worked, probably with considerable leeway from Tethra, and his breath returned to normal. He looked up and saw Kal loose another arrow, her masked face darting between him and their target, Verona held his shoulder and pulled him up.

Eluria hissed as he pulled himself back up.

Alright, now I’m pissed.

“You’re going to pay with your lives for that,” Verona spoke calmly and softly as she stood back up.

She still had her blood crystal embedded into Eluria’s foot. With a single flick of her hand, the crystal exploded, sending fragments of crystallised blood and foot in all directions. Eluria shrieked as she fell over. A hand had to choose between falling down or defending against a lightning arrow. She chose the latter and crashed into the ground. This time the lightning arrow threw off dozens of sparks that scorched the ground and her. Sancha raced to her side and helped her up.

Anton threw another volley of lightning bolts that cleared all but two of the free small clouds of smoke. Verona collected the foots’ blood and smashed it into Eluria’s stump. The blood crystal rippled underneath her skin and began to expand and tear, flaying her from the inside out.

“Fuck you!” Eluria screamed.

Both Eluria and Sancha popped something out of their sleeves, something that looked like a small pellet, and bit down before they could be stopped. The smoke glowed bright and appeared to expand. Another volley of bolts flew past but was deflected by a stream of smoke.

“Don’t think this is over-” Eluria was stopped by another volley of fireballs and the pain from Verona’s internal flaying blood. “I’ll find where you fuckers live and that’ll be the end of you!”

That very thought boiled Anton’s blood. The ground beneath them began to glow green, a circular marking grew beneath their bodies. It reminded him of how Nithroel disappeared in the God’s realm. They were trying to escape. Probably. Either that or trying to attack. They had survived because Eluria and Sancha had not had a serious chance to attack yet, and he was not going to give them that chance.

He put nearly everything he had left into a single lightning bolt. It struck the green smoke hard, obliterating most, leaving just a few wisps for defence. Their eyes were filled with panic as the crossbowmen and Kal loosed another volley and Verona flung the remaining shards towards them, despite being encased in smoke, landing a few centimetres from their faces. The shards began to break down into tiny fragments and crawl over one another towards them.

The markings grew in intensity and they smiled. Sancha rose up and deflected a fire arrow to the face.

“I’ll see you burn.” Sancha looked directly at Verona. “I haven't forgotten what you did!”

“Because you had Virgil’s jizz on your hair?” Anton teased.

Sancha flushed red, even more vividly than before, and raised her hand. A swirl of smoke coiled in her hand as she coughed blood. Eluria glanced up as something silver passed through Sancha’s neck. Cetina’s sword pierced Sancha’s neck and collided with her spasming, sending them both out of the glowing circle. Cetina barred her teeth as she cut her sword free with all her might, a mighty spurt of blood and sinew thrown loose as they crashed a meter from the circle. The green smoke faded from her body away as Eluria screamed for her daughter.

Both circles flashed bright and Eluria was gone.

“Fuck.” Anton gasped as he stood up. “Bitch got away.”

“Are you alright?” Verona dropped her spear and hugged him tight, pulling him down so she could look into his eyes.

She deactivated her power, her red eyes that close was a little unsettling, and feverishly rubbed his face. After seeing he was fine, as well as someone could be after having their chest crushed, she kissed him deeply. It lasted only for a second or two but it bristled with love and emotion. When she parted she was not red but looked incredibly worried.

“For a moment I thought that was it.”

“It’s not over yet,” Kal said quietly.

Sancha, somehow, despite suffering a clearly fatal wound, writhed on the ground. Cetina hauled herself up and grabbed her sword. She thrust it into Sancha’s side, blood poured out with wisps of green smoke, before pulling up and spilling her guts. Sancha gargled in blood as one hand clenched her ravaged throat while the other flayed at Cetina.

Cetina stood up, impaling her sword into Sancha’s crotch as support, as her face become void of emotion. She looked at Sancha the way someone would look at a bug beneath their feet. She wrenched the sword free with another fountain of blood and plunged it over and over into her chest. With every strike, Sancha’s struggle became weaker until she could barely move. The last wisps of her magic began to fade away. Cetina thrust one last time before moving to her head. She drew a short dagger, slashed at a final swat and stabbed her in the eye.

No one spoke a word, perhaps too afraid, as they watched Cetina’s silent rage unfold.

Cetina thrust both hands into her mouth and wrenched it open snapping bone and teeth apart. With a mighty heave, she ripped the head free before smashing the head into the ground over and over, her face still void of emotion. Blood, bone and teeth splashed her face until there was nothing left to hold. Until it leaked through her hands.

Slowly they approached the still and silent Cetina, her gloves dripping with blood and brain matter.

“Cetina?” Anton asked softly.

Her head snapped towards them. Emotion returned as she glanced between them. She looked at her hands and what remained of her step-sister.

“I…” she looked towards the warehouse. “Dad!”

She ran into the warehouse, a hobble to her step as blood trailed behind her.

“Go after her.” Anton patted Kal and Verona. “I’ll catch up in a moment. My lungs still are recovering.”

Both girls nodded and ran after Cetina. A moment later the Captain and his men approached Anton. Each held a look of utter shock. After witnessing Cetina’s rage that was understandable.

“Have you got this place under control now?” Anton asked the captain.

The captain slowly nodded, staring at Sancha’s headless and mutilated corpse. “Yeah…Yeah.” He shook his head. “Yes. The…The Strega Witches are gone…or dead. The smoke has left their corpses, so they’re gone now.”

“One’s still alive. Any idea where they go?”

“No.”

“But you knew what they were the moment you saw them.”

“Yes. I’ve fought them before.”

“I’d-”

“Wait!” Verona cried out from above. She ran past the broken wooden slat window with Kal in tow.

“We’ll be back,” Anton told the city watch. As he ran, as fast as he could, towards the warehouse they looked on confused at the scene of carnage around them.

The inside of the warehouse was filled with crates and barrels. He presumed the barrels were filled with alcohol while he had no clue what the crates contained. But there were hundreds of them. He was almost tempted to have a look but the thunderous sounds of boots kept him moving. Cetina’s blood trail left a clear guide through the cramped building. Crate after crate littered the halls with the occasional bloody handprint. He began closing on the sound of running boots, Cetina’s increasingly desperate cries for her father and Verona telling her to slow down when he heard an ear-piercing shriek. In his heart, he knew what it was.

He passed a corner and saw Cetina white with fear, her body shaking as she collapsed against the wall. Kal tried to pull Cetina away while Verona looked into the room, her face equally filled with shock. Cetina was an unintelligible wreck as he approached. He stopped in front of her and pulled her up, even with Kal’s help she was very heavy as all strength had left her form. Her lips quivered while her iris’s had constricted to pin-pricks. Verona had not said a word or even moved.

“Verona?” Anton said without looking back. “Verona?!”

“Yeah?” her voice was weak and distant.

“Take her and get out of the building. Now!”

Verona turned and grabbed Cetina’s arm and pulled her away. Both girls were enough to pull Cetina away as she burst into uncontrollable tears. Her body collapsed, her cries devolving into wails as they essentially dragged her away. Kal looked back but he had no idea what she was thinking. A large part, an increasingly large part did not want to turn around. When he did his legs felt weak and a tiny bit of bile rose to the back of his throat.

The room behind him was a bedroom, a very well furnished bedroom. Duran lay naked on the bed. His hands were tied to the posts, something that could have been considered kinky if he was not covered in blood. Naked was the wrong word; the very flesh on his chest had cut away down to the bone, his legs had been broken in numerous locations and his genitals had been removed, quite forcefully so. Anton retched at the sight, doubly so when he saw the chest was still moving.

He downed two of the remaining mana vials and approached Duran. His eyes were wild but he was still alive, for now at least.

“Fucking hell,” Anton mumbled as he approached.

Duran’s eyes shot towards him. At first, they were drenched with fear but quickly faded to relief.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix you right now.” Anton lay his hand on his arm. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal every injury Duran has suffered. Heal him back to his prime.”

Nearly all his magic flowed out but something was wrong. Nothing had healed, perhaps the blood had stopped flowing so quickly, but he should be better. He had no idea what was happening. Duran did not have Cetina’s natural immunity. Anton used what mana he had left and begun searching through his body with the prayer power. While Cetina and Cassius simply had smoke swirling around their brain Duran had hundreds of condensed spikes emanating from every wound on his body. Anton shouted in pain as he tried to brush them away. Every touch produced immense pain, for him and Duran.

Anton grunted and downed the last mana vial and tried brushing away the solid smoke. It was not enough and Duran screamed in pain with each attempt. Tears of pain trailed down Anton’s eyes before he had to stop. He would kill Duran long before he could fix him.

“Fine. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, remove the magic that infests Duran.”

Again magic left him. Duran groaned and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Anton had no idea if it worked and searched his body again. It had not worked. The spikes remained, if but a little dulled. For the first time, Anton felt truly helpless. If he knew nothing of magic, only what he had stumbled into. And everything he knew meant nothing against something as advanced and intricate as this. Even with his magical reserves, he could not reverse what was slowly unravelling before him and he doubted Kal would be able to fix this, even if she was far better at using the prayer power than him. There could be a prayer to fix it but he didn’t know enough about it. He cursed his lack of knowledge.

Anton patted Duran’s shoulder. “Hold on a bit longer. I’ll get Kal up here. She might have enough strength to beat this.”

Duran shook his head. “No…I can’t…It hurts so much.” He coughed up more blood. “I loved them…and they…ripped my soul apart.” He shook his head. “I can’t…”

“You’ve still got to make amends to your daughter. Your real daughter, the one that loved you all this time. So don’t give up just yet.”

Anton ran out the room and looked out the nearest window overlooking the warehouse. Verona and Kal had Cetina sit on the ground while she bawled her heart out. The city watch looked on while a small crowd began to gather. With a quick glance up the streets, he saw hundreds slowly approaching. At least they looked like people and not reanimated corpses.

“Kal!” he yelled out. “I need you up here immediately.” Kal looked up and nodded, patting Verona’s shoulder and running into the warehouse.

“City Watch Captain!” The man looked up at Anton. “Get it under control. You’ve got hundreds of people coming and who knows what’s going to happen. Do your job!”

He looked back and jumped in surprise. Seeing something he could do he rallied his fellows and formed a perimeter.

Anton ran back to the room but Duran had already taken a turn for the worse. His eyes were shaking, his skin sweating profusely and his hands shook violently. Despite the death rattles beginning to overcome him, he whispered something over and over.

“They didn’t find it.” Anton heard when he leant in. “They didn’t find it.” There was almost a laugh in his hoarse voice.

“Didn’t find what?”

Anton’s words coaxed some life from Duran. His eyes darted towards a small innocuous chest in the corner.

“I…held my oath,” Duran whispered again. “Is that not enough?”

Anton did not know how much of his words were mad ramblings or were the truth. He ignored Duran’s increasingly deranged and nonsensical words and began to remove the bindings on his hands. When he had removed the first Kal arrived. She was out of breath or disturbed by what lay before her. Probably both.

Kal raised her mask, her face drenched with sweat, and turned to Anton. “What happened to him?”

“Those two happened. I’ve tried to heal him but it’s not working. Something’s blocking my magic and I don’t know what. You might have better luck.”

Kal gulped, lowered her mask and moved to Duran. Thankfully his rapidly twitching eyes had not seen Kal’s face. If he had he might not want to have been saved by a Beast-kin. Anton had no idea how far Duran’s convictions lay.

“You can do this Kal. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal Duran no matter what magic tries to interfere.”

Kal yelped in pain before she wobbled and grasped at the bed to steady herself. Duran howled in pain but nothing had been healed.

“I…I don’t understand! It should have worked. It always works!” Kal was nearing hysterics herself.

“Those witches must have done something to block magic.” Anton freed Duran’s last wrist. “And I have no fucking idea how to undo it. Using magic just causes pain and wastes mana…I don’t know what to do. I don’t anything about their magic either…”

Kal whimpered and gently held onto Duran’s shoulder.

The death rattles grew worse. “My foolish brother. He’ll lose his but I kept mine hidden. Hidden. Hidden. No matter what they did I didn’t talk…They will never have them. Can…Can I rest now?”

He glanced to the side as the shakes ceased and his head fell limp. His breathing stopped and his chest remained still. Anton moved his hand under Duran’s nose, there was nothing.

“Shit,” Kal mumbled. Her shoulders drooped and she lowered her head.

Anton sighed. “Poor Cetina.” He patted Duran’s arm. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

“What do we do now?” Kal asked. “We can’t leave him like this…”

“No…No we can’t.” Anton turned to one of the cupboards and found a large sheet. It felt perhaps a little disrespectful to simply throw a sheet over him but it was all they could do right now. The moment the sheet touched his skin it turned red and blotchy. Anton sighed again.

“I barely saw it when I came up.” Kal shook her head. “But Cetina saw this. How do we explain it to her?”

“I…I have no idea.” Anton had never had to deal with something like this.

He looked around the room, perhaps just to distract him for a second. His eyes landed on the small chest that Duran had feverishly looked towards. The chest was very heavy and well made. Kal raised her mask and looked oddly at him.

“I’m not robbing him.”

“Good.”

Anton moved the chest to the centre of the room and opened it. There was no lock and the metal hinges were well maintained. The moment he opened it his eyes sparkled. Jewels. Hundreds of them. Far more than Anton had seen before. He picked up a clear jewel. It looked like a diamond, the size of a small peach seed. The wealth contained within the small chest…

“I guess this is Cetina’s now…” Anton grumbled as he began pulling out the jewels.

“Why did they come this far if they had so much money?” Kal asked.

“None of this makes sense. Did they lie about how much money they had and dressed relatively poor? Did those two Strega Witches get this while they were here to fund…whatever it was they were doing? I honestly have no idea. But Duran kept looking at this. And, as sad as it sounds, I don’t think they were intended for Cetina.”

Kal grumbled but agreed with him. They continued to pull out gem after gem before reaching a layer of golden necklaces beneath. This chest contained a literal fortune and, with the diamonds and other jewels, probably more wealth than Atros had.

With everything removed Anton began searching through the necklaces for anything. Anything. He used what meagre mana he had left to try and find something hidden in them, something that the deluded Duran had been hinting at. He was finding nothing.

Kal sighed and looked into the chest, a frown forming on her face. She picked up the chest and looked along its bottom before placing it back down. As she shook it side to side the frown deepened. Without saying a word she drew a dagger and drove it into the corner. With a tiny grunt, a wooden panel came loose. Beneath lay something dull and grey.

“The chest is too shallow,” Kal explained. “And they used the same wood everywhere else so it doesn’t make sense they tripled the thickness on the bottom. And there was this tiny rattle when I moved it...”

She pried the pieces of wood and retrieved a small iron box. It was very small and thin but masterfully built with a tiny seam running around the edge. The outside was incredibly smooth to the touch without a single mark or blemish, even the seam was barely noticeable. On one end he saw a tiny hole, a keyhole.

“Is there a key in there?” Anton asked.

Kal rummaged around and shook the crate. “Nothing…Though it doesn’t make sense to have a key in the same place that you hid something so carefully.”

“True…Let’s see if I’ve got enough mana to open this thing.” He placed his hand on the lock. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, unlock this…lock.”

Mana left him, what little he had left, causing his breath to become ragged and harsh. The room spun for a moment but Kal held him steady. He held her hand tight until the room returned to normal. When he looked down the box had not opened. He tried to pull it open, Kal tried to pry it open, but it would not budge.

Kal frowned and held her hand on the box. “I tried doing what you do, pushing the magic through it, and I can’t. It’s like my magic just can’t enter it. Not like…Duran.”

Anton gently took the box. He held it up to the light and saw something. When the angle of the light was just right, nearly running along it, he saw strange hexagonal marks running along the exterior. He recognised the pattern.

“Ghlyirl,” Anton said with dejection. “The box appears to be made from the stuff. At least that explains why our magic didn’t work on it.”

“I’ve seen too much of that stuff already.” Kal rose to her feet and slowly helped Anton up. “But that wasn’t what Duran had?”

“No. I don’t know what he had. We really need to find a teacher.” He sighed as he looked at the metal box in his hands. “Time to break the bad news…”

When they emerged from the warehouse a small crowd had gathered. The city watch were doing their best to keep them at bay and several more city watch members were forcing their way through the crowds to help their colleagues. To the side, on the ground, sat Cetina and Verona. Verona tried her best to comfort Cetina but she was struggling. Cetina’s face had turned deathly white, tears and snot ran down her face while a puddle of sick lay in front of her. Her body shuddered as she held herself in a ball while Verona held one shoulder and gently rubbed her back.

Verona was the first to notice them and looked expectantly. When she saw their faces that look faded. Cetina glanced at Verona, she saw the look on her face, then looked to them. She was almost pleading with her eye as she desperately searched theirs. But he would not lie. When he shook his head she completely broke down. The wail was unintelligible as she clawed at her hair with all her might. The blood matted with her hair while her boots smashed into the ground.

The city watch looked back at the new sound, quickly realised what it was, and looked back to the crowd.

Verona tried to pry Cetina’s hands off her head, lest she rip her hair free, and flashed them a look for help. Anton thought that he was probably the last person she would want to see so he patted Kal gently. Kal nodded and rushed to Cetina’s side. Slowly they were able to calm Cetina until she was just crying uncontrollably, the tears pouring down her face until her throat was hoarse. Her body shook as her gloved fingers clawed at her face.

The Captain slowly approached Anton, stepping clear of the bodies. “What did you find?” he asked very quietly.

Anton moved to the base of the building, out of earshot of Cetina, and the Captain followed. “Her father, dead.”

The Captain shook his head as he looked at the still shivering Cetina. Her body lurched forward, Verona and Kal pushed her forward and allowed her to be sick. Virtually nothing other than a thin strand of spit came out of her mouth before she collapsed against the wall and continued to cry.

“What are these Strega Witches?”

“I don’t know that much, but what I do know is that they are very dangerous…As you’ve seen yourself. They lurk in the distant forests and marshes, selling ancient and foul trinkets and magical artefacts to those willing to brave the dangers. And willing to pay their price. They also like to meddle with the affairs of others. That’s all I really know, other than a decree from the Emperor to kill them on sight, and to be on watch for their green magic.”

“I see.”

“But you managed to kill one. No small feat, from what I hear.”

Anton nodded and looked at Sancha’s headless corpse. They did not look like witches, as he understood them, but these two were definitely evil. Definitely up to something. The box in his hand felt heavy, as did the knowledge that he knew nothing of the games being played around him. Games that extended between nations. What connection did they have; Duran, the hidden Ghlyirl box, Cassius…maybe even the Demons themselves. Who knew the truth?

The world was only becoming more complicated.

Chapter 091. Vol 3 - Smoulder

Chapter 091:

Cetina’s body felt numb. Numb was not strong enough to describe how empty she felt inside. She barely felt anything. The wind, the sun, leaves brushing against her face…nothing. Never could she have imagined that everything could have gone wrong so quickly. Firstly, her injury in a battle with hideous creatures, their very blood had permanently burned, disfigured and blinded her left eye. And now…

A flicker of orange fire caught her numbed vision. Only then did her legs start to feel weak.

A giant funeral pyre burned in front of her. Her fathers. That thought alone brought another tear to her eyes, one that she could barely afford. Her eyes were red and raw while her throat felt like knives had carved through the flesh.

Everything after finding her father had been a complete blur. She remembered very little, other than being dragged around quite a bit by Verona, Kal and Anton. A man wearing a red sash had spoken to them at length, several words were directed at her but she didn’t register them. Her mind was swirling around her pain. She did not recall what happened after that but, by the afternoon, they had somehow arranged a funeral pyre for her father. There was a mention of money somewhere but she did not care. She was like a ghost. Her father, as a follower of the Church of the Holy Father, would have wanted to be buried in the ground. But in Graterious only nobles were allowed to do such a thing. People like her father had to settle for fire. It was the best she could hope for.

Duran had been wrapped in many layers of cloth before being placed onto the large pyre. She vaguely remembered Anton saying that her last memories of Duran should not be so horrid. Those were empty words. There was no way she could forget what she saw. Her father, the person she loved the most, had been torn apart, his flesh had been rendered down to the bone and…his crotch…

Another parcel of bile threatened to enter her throat. She force it back down. Numbed as she was she barely felt the burning sensation in her mouth.

Slowly she began to notice her hearing had returned. Rather, she had the mental strength to care once again. She looked at the pyre but heard nothing except the roar of the flame. Seeing his wrapped body burn through the flame, every part of what was once the honourable man she knew disappear into smoke and ash drained the strength in her body. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. Again. Her hands fell limp beside her legs as she stared at the fire.

What do I do now? Everyone I know is dead, a witch or hundreds of miles away…And would kill me the moment they saw me. And now there’s just me…Alone…What do I do?

She had no answer as she continued to stare into the flame.

Some time passed before she heard something approaching from behind. She willed her head to turn back. Normally it would have turned enough but she had yet to get used to her wound. She waited until the source came closer. Anton emerged, his head hung low as he slowly dragged his feet through the dry grass, and slowly approached her.

For a moment anger flashed through her mind but it quickly dissipated. Even in her numbed state, she knew it was stupid to hold such thoughts. He had helped her immensely since they had met and saved her…in more ways than one. She knew that he must have tried to save him, he had saved her without obligation, and that he would not have given up. Her…Step mother, or stepsister, must have done something to him so that not even Anton nor Kal could heal him. Was it the same thing that had turned the guards into those smoke soldiers? She had no idea. They might have been talking about it but at the time she did not care.

Anton shuffled through the grass before stopping at her side. She peered up and saw that he looked incredibly awkward. He had absolutely no idea what to say or what to do. Though, what could he really say?

Finally, he coughed and slowly sat beside her. He said nothing for some time, slowly rubbing his legs as he watched the fire.

“It’s…It’s been…” He trailed off, not knowing what words to speak.

“Yeah,” Cetina mumbled back, the first word she had spoken in some time. “It’s been shit.”

Usually she refrained from swearing but right now she did not care.

“Seems like everything has turned for the worst since we arrived in your life.”

It almost elicited a smile from Cetina. “It has. Almost…”

She shuffled her legs out from underneath so she could sit more comfortably on her rear. Anton continued to stare into the flame while Cetina looked behind her. About thirty feet away Verona and Kal stood silently with their horses in tow. They too were staring at the pyre, at least she was sure Kal was. It was impossible to tell what Kal was thinking beneath her mask. And for a Beast-kin to come here…

She shook her head and dispelled such thoughts. It did not matter now, not when she looked back and the realisation that her father was dead washed over her. Another wave of tears fell from her eyes. The pyre had burned down halfway by the time Anton spoke again.

“What…What will you do now?” He looked towards her and said nothing, searching in her eye for an answer.

Cetina shook her head. “I don’t know. I have nowhere to go. My family is dead and everyone else wants me dead.”

“Back in Bebbezzar?”

Cetina nodded. “Yes. I don’t know why my father’s brother chased him out but…” She shook her head. She did not know why she was speaking of such things, perhaps it was better than thinking of the reality that lay before her.

“I can’t go back. Not to Thessos or back to Porswea. I…I can’t think of that place, even look at it, without thinking of…what happened.”

Anton slowly nodded. “Well, we aren’t going to stay any longer either. Stories of witches are already spreading throughout the city and mobs are forming. Though it seems like most are just using it as an excuse to start looting,. That city watch Captain told us to leave before things got serious. It shouldn’t last more than a few days before they calm down on their own.”

Cetina looked beyond the pyre and at Porswea. There seemed to be a little more smoke than normal. Her heart began to pound as memories flooded back.

Anything…Anything but thinking about that place.

“Where are you going then?” She asked.

Anton shuffled slightly. “We’re heading to Rusaddir, and then to Seocuria. A city called Danafra.”

Cetina frowned as she looked back to Kal, then back to Anton. “Why? Why head to that place…You aren’t going to sell…”

Anton shook his head. “The opposite. To buy.”

Cetina could not help the hint of a smile. “I didn’t think you as a slaver. After what I’ve seen of that place…”

“We’ll be pretending to be buying slaves but we’ll be freeing them. As many and as often as we can.”

“That…How?”

“What do you mean?”

Cetina felt a frown form on her face. “You don’t look like salvers. Are you just planning to walk in and buy them?”

Anton scratched his cheek. “We’re going to be working on the plan from here on in. Now that we’ve got a ship, minus the crew, we can move onto the next stage.”

Cetina frowned deeply. “And how do you expect to find a good crew that’s not going to throw you overboard after robbing you of your gold? And how do you expect to convince someone in the capital that you are a legitimate slave owner?”

“I…I suppose the plan was to improvise and use gold to smooth over anything that goes wrong.”

“That’s…That’s a terrible plan.”

Anton smiled. “It’s the best we’ve got right now. Unless you’ve got a better one.”

A strange thought grew in her mind, a thought that might give her direction. She felt her mouth move on its own. “I’m sure that you mean well, but none of you know how Seocuria works.” She looked at Kal. “While Kal would know what it’s like on the inside you don’t know how the owners operate. I do. I told you that we…” she suppressed a sniffle. “Traded them. I know how it’s done and what prices to expect.”

Anton nodded. “Alright. Any idea about a captain and crew for our ship?”

Cetina pulled at a loose section of her yellow clothes. Only then did she realise that her gloves were still covered in blood.

“A…Anyone that sees my clothes will know that I’m from Bebbezzar. And that I must know something of haggling.”

“Do you?”

“I…I do.” She coughed. “I’ve seen enough of it to know what it means. They state a price that’s too high. I say a lower number and you end up with a number in the middle.”

“That’s…That could work. Money isn’t a problem for us.” Anton shuffled his legs as part of the pyre began to collapse in on itself. “So…Well, I don’t mean to impose, but you could come with us, if you wish. Bandits and who knows what infests the lands between here and our destination. We could always use an extra pair of hands on our journey. So…Do you want to come with us?”

Cetina looked to the pyre. Most of the flames had died down and hot embers remained, covered in a thick layer of ash and charred coals.

“Please give me a moment.”

Anton nodded and left. Cetina looked blankly into the fires.

Should I go? I don’t have anything to lose. If it keeps me moving and stops me thinking about…this, then I probably should go. Who knows what will happen, much more than if I stay here.

A hand brushed against her hip, and the empty wine flask still attached to her belt.

I might need to fix that soon.

Cetina gritted her teeth and stood up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, father. I’m sorry that I watched you fall under their control and did nothing. And I’m sorry that I cannot bury you like you would have wanted.”

She bowed her head once before turning away from the pyre and walking towards the only three people she could trust in the world. Verona nudged Anton’s side. Both smiled warmly while Kal’s mask continued to hide her emotion while her body showed the same warmth.

When she stopped she saw four horses, including the horse gifted to her by her father. Had they already made a decision to bring her with them? A tiny smile crept over the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t know what I want to do.” She began. “But I’ll come with you for now. Even if it’s just to get away from here. I can’t go back to that city.”

“Sure.” Verona smiled wildly, something she did whenever she was very excited. “It should be about fifteen or so day’s hard riding and then we get to see the ocean. I wonder what it smells like. I’ve always wondered...”

Cetina smiled at Verona’s innocence and wonder at something so simple. Doubly so coming from someone so powerful. Though, she knew she was anything but innocent.

“The salt in the air makes your hair really stiff.” Kal looked at her. “And…other things. It can get uncomfortable. It also makes iron rust very quickly.”

“Huh.”

Cetina nodded. “Well…Shall we go?”

“You don’t want to wait a bit longer?” Anton asked.

Cetina looked back to the pyre and shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’ve got any more tears left in me. I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”

“Hang on.” Anton moved to his horse. “We have something for you…Something that I’m sure your father would have wanted for you to have.”

Cetina waited until Anton brought out a small bag, which looked quite heavy and handed it to Cetina. She threw up a brow but he said nothing. When she opened it she gasped at the sight. Gold and jewels, sizes she did not know existed, nearly burst out from the bag.

“What?” she scarcely believed what she saw. “It was only a few coins last time…”

“We found these inside…the building.” Anton began. “And now they’re yours. They belong to you now, to do with as you please.”

“I…” she held up a large diamond. “I can’t believe this.” She smiled warmly at them. “Thank you. I…I’ll think about what I want to do with this.”

Anton nodded. “Good. By the way, do you happen to know what’s inside this?”

He showed her a small metal box. She had never seen it before.

“No. Sorry.”

“Shame. Your father pointed to this and the jewels just before he passed away.” Anton frowned at the box. “And we can’t open it.” He gently shook the box. “It sounds like there’s something inside. Unless you have the key we’ll have to find someone that knows how to lock-pick. That might be a little difficult in this world. Most locks are pretty simple.”

“What?”

Something flickered over Anton’s face. “Never mind. I just don’t think it’s going to be something that a lot of people know.” He placed the box into a pack on his horse. “Oh…These packs have been magically protected, so you can’t open it without your skin turning blue. We’ll change that when we’ve got a spare moment. We can make you one if you want.”

“Sure.” Cetina clapped her hands. “We should probably get moving soon otherwise we’ll be here all day.”

“We’re ready to go as soon as you are,” Kal said quietly.

Cetina nodded. “I am ready.”

“We’ll stop just before dusk.” Anton began. “Get more supplies from the nearest city and figure out where to go from there. Stop at an Inn with a proper bed. Does that sound like a plan?”

They mounted their horses while Cetina took one final look at the pyre. Duran would not want her to wait around his grave forever. He would want for her to live her life. She scrunched her fists, put the bag into a pack on her horse and mounted with a single jump. Verona helped her swing her leg over properly.

Cetina waved for them to go first. When they filed out she shook her head, not truly believing that she would be following these three strange people on some ludicrous plan to buy and free slaves and send them…somewhere. They had yet to reveal that part of their plan. She did not take one final look back at Porswea, there was nothing left behind her. Only ruin and death. Now there was only forward. As she whipped the reins her empty wine flask bounced against her hip. When they stopped she would get another. Maybe two. Maybe even three.

Chapter 092. Vol 3 - Curses and Prayer

Chapter 092:

Eluria smashed into the cold hard ground. She screamed in pain as she clutched at the remains of her foot. Anger boiled in her heart as she felt the still solid crystallised blood that had torn through her flesh. Never, never in her long life had she felt such pain. Not even when her master had thrown her into the Gyps Mire for the whole summer, to fend for herself in that festering swamp. She mentally recoiled at the rots and infections she had suffered.

The crystallised blood quivered and slumped off the stump that remained of her foot. The Blood Berserker, the short silver haired Clanswomen whore, was too far away to retain her control and the blood returned to normal. If she was nearby Eluria would not last another moment.

She glanced around, just to make sure that she was safe. There was no one else in the dimly lit stone cavern. She was alone and safe, even though there were two green teleportation marks slowly fading into the cold stone beneath her. Realisation hit her like a crashing wave of cold water.

Sancha was dead. Her daughter was dead.

No words came out, only a single long scream. A wail. The one person that she could rely on, the only person that she had successfully taught, the one person that actually managed to make her smile, was gone. She remembered the sword tearing through Sancha’s throat as Cetina, that horrendous bitch, and knocked her out of the teleportation markings. Before she could do anything she had teleported away. As she fled so quickly it meant she did not have time to create a continuous portal in Porswea. There was no way for her to get back anytime soon.

Tears flowed from her eyes as she slammed her fist onto the stone ground.

“Really?” A voice called out from the shadows. “I thought you were better than a petulant child.”

Eluria scowled as she looked up at the source. A pair of figures emerged through the dim light. One was dressed in a full grey robe with a golden tasselled belt hanging from her waist. Even her hands were covered by extremely expensive soft grey leather gloves. The other woman wore nearly identical red robes, with another golden tasselled belt.

“Fuck off Terentia.”

Terentia smiled and knelt beside her. “Looks like you’ve lost your foot.” A teasing smile crept over her face as she poked at the still bleeding stump. “Oh dear…Where did you lose it? That was very silly of you, wasn’t it?”

“I said fuck off!”

Terentia and Vistula chuckled.

“There’s no need to be angry.” Terentia cast a weak curse over Eluria’s wound.

Eluria tensed as she watched the green smoke coil around Terentia’s hand and slowly drifted to her foot. She grunted at the smoke touched her wound and began to do its work. The wound closed and fresh skin covered the stump that was now her foot. While she grit her teeth the pain was unbelievable, only slightly less than when she lost it in the first place.

Eventually, Terentia withdrew her hand and the pain stopped. At least she was not bleeding anymore.

“I could regrow your foot, but you know-”

“Yes…” Eluria nodded and slowly tried to stand up. “I can’t be unconscious for the next few days. Not right now.”

Terentia slowly nodded, a strange and bitter smile formed on her face. “Though, that might be better for you. Come.”

“How do expect me to walk with this?”

Terentia and Vistula shrugged and walked away. Eluria spat at the blood pool near her foot. When she had recovered more strength she would rebuild her foot. She dreaded the pain and anguish that would follow. At least during the terror-filled sleep, she would not remember Sancha’s death. Still, she could not walk like this. She weaved a simple curse on the stone. Small fragments of stone broke from the floor with the green smoke from her hands. She braced herself for the next part as she formed them roughly into a foot. She winced and rammed it into her stump.

“Fuck!”

The stone embedded itself into her skin. When the pain became bearable she slowly stood up. The stone shards hurt with the pressure she placed upon it but she would endure. As she took a few practice steps the pain became less, though it was a little difficult to move. It was of no concern right now. Terentia and Vistula’s presence concerned her the most. Why were they here?

Eluria sighed, pushed down the images of her daughter’s death, and hobbled towards the exit. Even though glowing crystals hanging from the ceiling gave out a warm glow the stone corridor walls felt impossibly cold against her skin. There were many sidings along the corridor, each leading a small cavern, just like the one she had arrived in. All were empty.

Ahead she could hear talking, an occasional burst of laughter. She continued to hobble through the stone corridor before she arrived at a massive cavern with a large wooden table in the centre, a massive Bright Crystal hanging from the ceiling. Thirteen chairs sat around the table, all bar four were filled. She knew why two were empty. The noise ceased as she entered. Everyone stopped and looked at Eluria. She felt utter revulsion at the looks upon their faces; pity, contempt and sneering pride. She held herself back from saying anything and moved to her seat.

“What happened to you?” A middle-aged man asked from the other side of the table.

Eluria said nothing as she took her seat at the table.

“Where is your protégé, Sancha?”

“Gone.” Eluria managed to say flatly.

“How is that possible?” He asked. “I do not think you would raise a weakling. Not after all your boasts, so long as they weren’t empty and filled with hot air.”

Eluria’s heart boiled but she held herself together.

“No. We-”

“And that is the reason that why we are here.” An elderly woman, sitting next to the man, spoke up with an incredibly scratchy voice. “Because you, Eluria, have fucked up. Badly.”

Eluria frowned. The woman was the leader of the Strega Witches, Elder Morgon. She had been very old when Eluria joined the witches, and that was nearly two hundred winters ago. Morgon was wrapped tight in an old shawl with a thick woollen coat underneath. She was virtually unrecognisable as the leader of their coven, though her sparkling green eyes spoke of the strength of will that lay beneath her slowing ageing body.

“No, I have not,” Eluria replied, much to Morgon’s annoyance. She was supposed to keep quiet until Morgon addressed her directly but she was not in the mood. “I have just lost my…daughter. But I don’t see how that’s any of your problem.”

Morgon leant back in her chair. “That is why you are here. That is why we are all here.”

Another woman, a very young one, with a pointlessly pretty face and body, leant forward. “Where is Harprax? I thought he would be here, he owes me some money.”

Terentia shook her head. “I’m afraid that he is trying to fix a delicate situation in Porswea. It seems that Cassius is no longer responding to any of our commands. And attempts to restore it have been…ineffective. I don’t know how long it will take to fix. If it’s even possible.”

The pretty woman frowned. “Someone didn’t cast a Repellent curse on him, did they?”

“No. He did not feel any pain when he tried casting. He described it like the curse simply bounced off.”

“Huh…I’ve never heard of that before. What could do that?”

Morgon shuffled again, the man sitting next to her gently thumped on the wooden table.

“That is something that we will have to discuss, but now we must focus on the current issue.”

“That’s not important?” Vistula asked.

“Of course it is.” Morgon snapped, the red robbed woman jumped back slightly. “But compared to what Eluria has done…”

Eluria kept her face flat. It was all that she could manage.

“Did you at least manage to find the eighth piece of the Frangitur Ira?”

Eluria shook her head.

Morgon was about to explode into one of her famous rages. Eluria usually found those quite funny, except those on the receiving end usually were dead by the end of it. Usually very badly.

“You had four…no, five winters to find one piece. And you have yet to find it.” Morgon shook her head. “Where you so enamoured with shagging that piece of meat you called a husband that you became distracted.” Morgon chuckled. “If it was I don’t particularly blame you. I’ve been there…when I was young.”

Eluria nearly flushed. While she had no feelings towards Duran she did enjoy him inside her. More than most men. Though that was the only thing that she missed. A male whore could easily satisfy that need.

“I could not find out where he was keeping it,” Eluria replied, slowly and carefully. “My magics could warp his mind but I could not break him. Not even after all that time. We know he was the only one that knew were it was so I couldn’t just kill him right away. I had to resort to more drastic measures at the end.”

“But…”

“I have not found it. However we managed to recover several other important artefacts while we travelled and I tried to extract it’s location. For all I know it’s still in Bebbezzar with the rest of the De Yascar’s. I’m certain he had it. I was sure of it…”

Morgon sighed. “Oh well. There is a possibility that we were wrong from the beginning. But at least it was not entirely wasted. Those other artifacts you found have been very usefull. We have been looking for the pieces since I was young…How long ago was that?”

Eluria felt her eye twitch as the other Strega Witches chuckled and sniggered amongst themselves, like a bunch of children. None had asked how Sancha had died, only accepting it as given that she was dead. That made her mad.

“My daughter is dead,” Eluria spoke through gritted teeth. “And I intend to see them dead for what they did to her. I know that we don’t often work together but I need help to see them punished.”

The whole table went silent. Everyone looked to Morgon.

“I’m afraid that would only make things worse.” Morgon sighed, looking far more tired than ever before. “I have spent time trying to smooth things over before they escalate. We cannot afford to go to war with them.”

“But no one can kill one of us, no matter how weak or powerful, and live.” Eluria spat back. “That was what you said yourself. Why is it suddenly different for me? Why am I denied justice for my daughter’s death? Those four fuckers are running about, merrily screwing and fucking their way across the countryside while I’m stuck here with-”

“The Redeemer has them marked.”

Morgon’s quiet words stopped Eluria dead. She looked at the thirteenth chair. That chair had always been empty, ever since she became an initiate. Everyone spoke of that chair belonging to someone very powerful, one powerful enough that Morgon trembled at their mention, but also someone that had abandoned their coven.

“What?” Eluria asked.

“You, Eluria, and your…unfortunately killed daughter, Sancha, attacked three people marked by The Redeemer.”

Morgon waved a bony hand, every finger was covered with rings which bristled with power. A large column of thick green smoke billowed from the centre of the table. The smoke solidified and three faces emerged. Eluria felt her blood boil as she recognised two, but the other was of a Beast-kin. Why a Beast-kin?

“These three have been marked by The Redeemer. The man, Anton, the Clanswoman, Verona, and the Half-breed Feline Beast-kin, Kal.”

Upon revealing the third person was a half-breed the entire table burst into conversation. Everyone began rapidly whispering to one another. Vistula and Terentia were the most surprised for some reason. Eluria was furious upon discovering that a Beast-kin had shot her daughter in the chest. Seeing all of them, together at once, brought her to the edge of lashing out.

“These three are, as of now, untouchable by us.”

“They attacked first!”

Morgon shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now. Besides, you were torturing the father of their friend.”

Eluria had nothing to say.

“I have just finished speaking with The Redeemer about this-”

“You actually spoke to that traitor?!” Another elderly woman spat out.

Morgon nodded. “Of course. You always need to keep lines of communication open. I…Barely, managed to convince her that it was not a deliberate act. That you and your daughter did not know. If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have made it more than a few steps after you landed. She was very quick to contact me and drag me into a vision link. But, now you do.” Dark green smoke coiled around her hands. Eluria had only witnessed Morgon’s magic twice when she fought. “And that means you cannot attack, or move against them. If you do we will all be destroyed.”

Eluria glanced around the table. Everyone looked worried, even Vistula and Terentia, two powerful mages on top of being elder witches. And none were willing to lift a finger to help.

She scrunched her fingers so tight that blood began to trickle out.

“I…I understand.” Eluria managed to spit out.

“Good.” Morgon slowly nodded. “Despite the situation, I am sorry about the loss of your daughter. She seemed like she could be a very powerful witch given a few winters. And a good person…”

Eluria said nothing.

Morgon coughed awkwardly. “So…With that little issue sorted I’m afraid that we need to continue to an issue that has become even more pressing than a battle with The Redeemer.”

Eluria raised a brow.

“Most of you would not be aware that giant creatures, Demons, have arrived in Porswea, inside Fort Acidava.”

“Thankfully they were dealt with but their arrival means something terrible is coming,” Terentia explained. “There was only one portal to their realm this time, one small portal that collapsed the moment the Demons passed through.”

“Now…” Morgan continued. “Now that they’ve begun their invasion beyond their main portal on the Isle of the Shifting Stones the walls between worlds have weakened. We need to get the remaining fragments before more stable portals begin to emerge. The Wood Elves have that controlled, for now. But more will emerge. But we have no idea when. So…we need those fragments before the situation becomes untenable.”

The young pretty woman threw a hand up. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that I was successful.”

Everyone, bar Eluria, looked at her with genuine and elated surprise.

“I was waiting for a gathering like this to hand it over.”

“You just wanted praise, didn’t you?” Vistula smirked, resting her chin on one hand.

The woman flushed vividly. “Perhaps. But, I do have it.”

She reached into her waist, hidden by the table, and brought out a small flat stone. The grey and white stone fit easily in the palm of her hand. Other than a few red markings on one side of the stone it looked completely unremarkable.

Morgon practically salivated at the sight of the stone. The stone was passed to her, everyone that it passed through took a moment to examine the stone. Eluria, despite not touching it, felt the immense power that radiated from the stone, more than anyone present wielded.

“Excellent, Pearl.” Morgon smiled at her. “Was the cold any problem for you?”

“No.” Pearl smiled sweetly. “A good set of thick furs, and a nice man, or men, to warm your bed is more than enough. Though, the Stone Men were quite difficult to get past. They don’t sleep or even blink. I’m a little worried about the Clansmen, actually.”

“Why?” Morgon asked, completely disinterested and slowly stroking the stone.

“Well…The Stone Men are leaving Eldfjall Trelleborg and rampaging throughout the countryside. I had to ditch my male companions when they surrounded us. They had already destroyed two villages when I left…”

Morgon shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Stone Men, Demons, even The Redeemer, pale in comparison to what we must face. If we fail it means the death of everything. So a few dead Clansmen mean nothing, regardless of how helpful they have been and terrible their plight may be.” She chuckled. “Of the twenty pieces we now have seventeen, so I’m feeling pretty good about today, all things considered.”

Hearing that, after knowing that she had lost her daughter on the same day, made Eluria almost snap. She had no intention of letting them get away with her murder. She would just have to be clever about it, attacking in a way that did not lead back to her. But who could do such a thing? None of them were weak, not even that whore Cetina.

I’ll have to be clever about this. There must be someone that wants them dead. I’ll just need to…help them help themselves.

Eluria felt a smile creep onto her face so she dove her head down and deeply rubbed her forehead. No one appeared to guess what she was thinking.

“So what now?” Vistula asked. “There’s still three more pieces, one we may know roughly the location of. Any clue of the remaining two?”

“Yes.” Morgon nodded. “One is likely in the Shadow Isles, hidden in the Dark Elf capital, which will require extreme caution and effort to recover. The last…Is hidden in the remains of the Kar Kingdom. Several miles south of the Capital lies a massive mine. I believe it has been hidden there. Recovered journals hint that is lies there. Where exactly it is, I do not have any idea. It could be several miles below the surface. If it is actually there. And with the collapse of the Kar Kingdom…” Morgon looked at the empty chair. “That will be exceptionally difficult and time-consuming. The Goblins in the area are plentiful and have recently begun breeding up rapidly so our movements there will have to be incredibly delicate.”

“Can’t we just force our way through?” Pearl asked sweetly. “A few hundred Goblins would not be a problem for us.”

“Not hundreds. Tens of thousands. Probably more.” Pearl and many of the witches paled ever so slightly. Despite their power, they could easily be overwhelmed by the thousands of screaming and scratching little rodents. And their abilities were very rarely ever…direct.

“And…And The Redeemer has also pointed out that the entire area is off limits to us…For now.”

Oh? Why now? You would have brought up something so important if you had known before you had spoken to The Redeemer. That means you’ve only just found out, while you were talking about those three. I guess I know where to start looking…

“So,” Morgon coughed again. “We will deal with that fragment last. I ask half of you to look into the De Yascar holdings in Bebbezzar and see what you can find, the rest head to the Shadow Isles and find their fragment. Do not hesitate to use any method to get what we need; money, intimidation, favours, it matters not. Especially when the fate of the world is at stake.”

Everyone nodded.

“Remember the oath our ancestors took. Always strive to fulfil her final wish.” Morgon looked at the ceiling. “By Tethra’s name, we will finish what she started.”

Every witch held their heads down and clasped their hands tight. “In Tethra’s name.”

Chapter 093. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Misplaced Trust

Chapter 093 - Misplaced Trust:

Marcus paced along the wooden floor in an attempt to calm himself. It was not successful. While he and Castor had been catered for extremely well, luxurious food and even the chance of women, which Marcus declined for them both, they did not have the chance to leave the building. And it was driving him crazy. There was only so much they could eat and sleep before they got bored. Luckily there was enough room for himself and Castor to practice with their swords, but only very carefully and after they had rearranged the furniture.

“How much longer are they going to keep us here?” Castor asked quietly. “Shouldn’t we really be heading back to the Border Forts? There could be another attack by now. I never thought I would miss the place so much.”

Marcus shook his head as he retreated from the glass window, the old wood groaning and creaking beneath his feet. “No. The Clansmen aren’t that stupid. They can’t just loose thirty thousand men and just launch another assault. With luck that should be the only attack this winter.”

“Still…” Castor tried to think of something but closed his mouth as his mind trailed off.

This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation and it wouldn’t be the last. Marcus didn’t mind, at least Castor was trying to think of the bigger picture. Perhaps he would, one day, be able to properly lead the Blue Firestorm chapter.

Marcus sat on the end of the bed, far more luxurious than he was accustomed to, and lay down. Castor walked to the window and pried it open, allowing a cool but pungent air to waft in. That was one thing they didn’t have to deal with at the Border Forts, the smell of thousands of thousands of people living basically on top of one another. They only had to deal with horse shit. As he rubbed his head Castor let out another groan. He sat on the window’s edge, a slight push and he would tumble to his death, and looked down to the city streets below. Before Marcus could ask there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

“My Lords Marcus and Castor,” The voice was young but undeniably a male. Marcus presumed he was from the court. “Duchess Belinda has arrived. King Lambert has decreed that the court is to assemble as soon as possible.”

“Thank you. We’ll be ready shortly.”

Marcus was sure the man bowed on the other side, followed by the faint sounds of clinking metal moving away. There were many armoured soldiers just outside. More than he anticipated.

“Come Castor. Let’s get this over with.”

Castor nodded and picked up his armour. When both were fully equipped, a few more knives hidden away for good measure, Castor looked out the window again. He grumbled and waved at Marcus.

“It’s another one.” He said quietly.

Marcus looked down to the chaos of city life beneath them. All couldn’t see anything special through the swarming of people trying to live their lives as best they could. It took a moment but he saw what caught Castor’s eye. Four large covered caravans, the same type large and important merchant guilds used to transport goods, moved through the city streets. They were oddly patiently for the people to part but there was an inevitability about the way they moved. Many soldiers, mercenaries judging by their mismatched and plain armour, gently pushed the crowd apart and allowed the carts through. Very odd. Once the carts had passed people flooded back into the void and carried on with their lives. They watched in silence until all the carts had left their sight, heading towards the Kings’ castle.

“That’s the twelfth time I’ve seen carts like that heading towards the castle,” Castor said. “And that’s when I’ve been looking, and that’s not been that often. Any ideas?”

“No…But, bring your sword and shield as well. Better to be prepared, right?”

Castor nodded. Their weapons had been meticulously maintained during their stay, there wasn’t much else to do. Marcus opened the locked door. A young man waited outside, immaculately dressed in Qaiviel colours, flanked by four royal guards. Marcus had never seen these men in action, but he reasoned they didn’t see much combat themselves. However, their weapons and armour were not just for show.

“Sorry for the delay.” Marcus tried to be humble. “Please, lead on.”

The young man nodded and walked down the wooden corridor, the royal guard waited for Marcus and Castor and followed a fair distance behind. Once outside Castor nudged Marcus’s side. He nodded to another passing convoy of covered carts. As he followed the young man he studied the carts out of his peripheries.

Those horses look tired, that’s why it’s moving so slow. It's also riding very hard. They’ve got a lot of weight on them.

A cart veered to the side and fell into a small hole in the street. As the cart fell towards them he saw a spherical protuberance in the cloth, several in fact. A hand imprint pressed onto the canvas for a moment. They disappeared when the cart righted itself but Marcus knew what that was. The question was how many were inside each one. And how many had already come to the capital? And where were they going?

Marcus sped up and reached the side of the young man. “We’ve been seeing these carts arriving in the city. Lots of them. Any idea what they are?”

The young man threw up a curious brow before Marcus nodded towards the last of the carts. The back was sealed tight so he could not see anything inside. He glanced at the carts, shrugged and said nothing. Marcus grumbled and slowed so Castor could catch up. Castor looked towards him but accepted he had no answer. His hand travelled to the pommel of his sword and gripped it tight. Something was about to happen, he could feel it in his bones.

---[]---

The court had not assembled when they arrived. Marcus and Castor followed the slow processing into the court. Everything inside had been cleaned spotless. Even the carpet had been changed. Again Marcus held back his contempt upon seeing the nobles. They looked just as resplendent as last time but there was a certain anticipation to their steps.

Well, Belinda isn’t someone they speak of. And someone who’s supposedly consorted with heretics is coming here. Of course, they’re excited. I hope that’s the reason why…What about those carts?

The representatives of the other Knight Orders already stood at the side of the empty throne. Each looked their very best. Their armour shined in the light, every colour polished to the highest degree. A rainbow of colours…and black and gold. Marcus felt anxious just looking at them. The Black Rider looked utterly void of emotion, perhaps a faint bubbling of rage behind his otherwise blank eyes. The Golden Roar’s representatives smiled a disturbing and knowing smile and even managed a chuckle. Marcus wanted to punch them, the way they held themselves annoyed him to no end.

Terill and his fat priest were not present yet. The agents of the Church normally swarmed around the King like a buzzard to a corpse. Marcus doubted the King was finished just yet, despite his advancing age. Marcus and Castor were ushered to the middle of the Knight Order representatives. Thankfully he had been positioned far away from the Black Riders and the Golden Roar. To his side stood a Green Viper and the other a Red Salamander. Marcus didn’t know the men well but they seemed good people.

Several young attendants, dressed in the immaculate white and green of the King’s men, clapped once, an echoing and piercing clap that silenced everyone and everything.

“Everyone. Please remain silent for the arrival of King Lambert the Third, King of Qaiviel.”

Everyone looked at the large heavy wooden door as King Lambert approached. His body was ever so stooped and the crown slightly askew as his eyes scanned the nobles filling up most of the court. None had the strength to match his eyes and the King simply passed them over with no regard. When he saw the Knights his expression changed, lightened and revitalised. Marcus had no idea how many of his war stories were true but with just one simple look he knew the King longed to be one of them again.

Behind him, however, hovered the buzzards. Terill and his fat priest skulked behind the King. Both matched the pace of the King and kept their head slightly lowered, an act of submission. One that Marcus knew to be false.

King Lambert arrived at the throne and almost flung himself upon it. With an undignified groan, he adjusted his clothes and rested his old and arthritic hands on the armrests. He cleared his throat and began.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming so quickly.” His voice was soft, clear and a little worn. “Though I know that some of you would have preferred to be on your way home we still have a few pieces to clean up after the recent Clansmen invasion.”

The court, the colourful jesters, murmured in fictions and dramatic agreement. Marcus sighed at their pathetic attempts at pandering. Why did they even try? The King clearly detested them with every fibre of his being.

King Lambert glanced at Marcus. “This…Grand Mage, and his associates. To determine what threat they are to our kingdom, we have called their principle negotiator, Duchess Belinda, from the far east of the Kingdom.”

Another snigger came from the court, one silenced by the furious glance of the King. He wasn’t done just yet. He glanced to Terill who waved to the royal guards at the end of the chamber.

The guards disappeared for a moment, only to return looking a little shaken. Two golden knights, knights of the Golden Roar stepped forth. They were dragging something. Rather, someone. Someone with long bright red hair.

The person looked up, Belinda’s eyes were filled with fury and hate. Her face was bloody and bruised, even a fresh trickle of blood trailed down her face, a tooth appeared to be missing. The once beautiful and lavish dress had been torn and dirtied. Behind her, another two Golden Roar Knights emerged dragging an elderly man in an expensive black butler’s uniform. Alfred was slipping in and out of consciousness while blood poured down his face. Marcus said nothing but moved his hand to the pommel of his sword.

King Lambert remained utterly silent as they were dragged to his feet, thrown at the same location where they had knelt but a few days ago. Belinda landed with her hands outstretched while Alfred was thrown on his side. She hissed a curse at the Golden Knight, only receiving a heavy push and a deep chuckle, and helped Alfred to his knees.

“Someone had better explain this before heads start to roll.” The King’s voice was devoid of emotion as he scratched his chin. Marcus saw his free hand dig tight into his clothes.

“I can, your majesty.” The representative of the Golden Roar stepped forward, an unbelievably smug look on his face. “We have brought those who would conspire with vile heretics to your feet. So that you may render your judgment upon them.”

His eyes flashed to Terill and the other priest. Neither man looked anything other than shocked. His smiled weakened but he carried on regardless.

“These two, once loyal subjects, have conspired with the worst degenerates and heretics. Selling their souls and your people for dangerous and corrupting power.” He almost spat out the last word.

The court was in agreement, seemingly taking Belinda’s and Alfred’s beating as sufficient proof of their crimes. The King remained silent, for now.

“What…What proof do you have of this?” Terill asked. The Inquisitor’s voice wobbled and he clenched his fists on his clothes.

“Yes, Rémi.” The King spoke very softly. “Your proof?”

Rémi smiled and waved to a Golden Roar page waiting at the door. He trotted forth and produced something from his cloak. Rémi snatched it from his hands and held it upon his palms for the king to see. It was a pen, a simple dip pen, broken in three places.

“And…”

“This pen has been cursed and corrupted by vile heresies.” Rémi began, lowering his head once again. “Holy Adepts of the Church have confirmed that it has been tainted by their magic.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it.” The King said, moving forward barely an inch.

Lambert’s presence loomed over Rémi, even sitting on his throne. Rémi quickly realised they had gone too far. The King sighed and leant back into his throne. Rémi began panicking and looked to the priest at his side.

“You were there, Cardinal Abeau,” Rémi shouted to the short and fat man. “You know what I saw. This, and her are tainted by heresy.”

“I have been at mass all morning,” Abeau replied, his voice carefully controlled. “I have never seen this before. While I may have claimed these two consorted with heretics, I did not call for them to be mistreated in such a fashion. Especially with just a…pen, to prove their heresy.”

The King looked to Terill.

“My King, while I understand that you may not take my word for this, but Abeau was indeed at mass this whole morning. He had to leave the congregation early once he heard word of Duchess Belinda’s arrival.”

Rémi’s face paled. Everyone had abandoned him, and now he stood with a beaten royal and her loyal butler. “But, my King, they have confessed to consorting with the heretics.”

“You keep saying the same things…No proof and just words poorly spun…” the king murmured quietly. He appeared to enjoy watching Rémi squirm.

“I did no such thing.” Belinda hissed through the pain wracking her body, pain she had probably never felt before. “And right now I almost wish I had. So I could rip out your throat!”

“Heretic!” Rémi claimed. But the chamber was deathly silent. His body began to shake as he looked at the still silent King.

The king sighed loudly. “So…You have a pen, and perhaps a beaten confession from these two. That does not indicate guilt. We are not superstitious fools like the Clansmen. Especially WHEN YOU JUST WANTED HER LAND AND GOLD! YOU STUPID, GREEDY, IGNORANT FOOLS!”

The volume was of his voice was shocking, Marcus stepped back in surprise. Rémi winced as the King’s wrath was directed solely at him.

The King took several deep breaths to calm himself. “You are a tremendous, greedy fool. Imagine if they had been this Grand Mage, and you hauled him and his female companions out here in this state. I intend for this Kingdom to last beyond my reign.” Lambert breathed heavily through his nose. “And it’s about time I did something about it…Bernard?”

The king glanced at the Black Rider and nodded once. Bernard drew a giant two-handed sword and advanced on the Golden Roar Knights. They still had their weapons and, even if they weren’t fighters from the frontier, they wouldn’t be easy prey. Rémi and the four Knights began to back away but Bernard was quick. Inhumanly quick. He lunged forward and swung at their necks. The swipe severed two heads clean off, ripped Rémi’s helmet free before crashing into the third knight’s helmet. It deformed and the man fell limp to the floor. Pools of blood quickly grew from their bodies as Marcus stepped forward and removed Belinda and Alfred from the battle. The Knights either side helped, excluding Castor who remained stunned and transfixed by what was unfolding before them and hid them amongst them. Neither said anything but he knew they were very grateful. Belinda refused to let go of his armoured fist.

Bernard advanced on the other Knight, whose stance and breathing conveyed nothing except sheer, unbridled terror. He tried to form a line with Rémi but Rémi continued to back away, back towards the rest of the court. Thankfully the colourful jesters back away as well.

Bernard swung once and struck the Knight’s shield. It bent with the single hit before flying loose. Marcus heard the snapping of bones as the Knight screamed and clutched at his shaking wrist. As the sword fell to the floor Bernard struck again, this time with his fist at the helmet. It didn’t kill him but the sheer force striking his face sent him tumbling onto his back. He barely reached the ground before Bernard was on him again, plunging his sword into his chest. The armour buckled and tore like it was paper before the man’s strength. He glanced back to the king, his eyes only slightly satisfied with his kills. The king nodded and Bernard smiled.

Rémi said nothing, only preparing himself for a fight he must have known he could not win. He opened his mouth to speak but Bernard advanced once again and swung down. Rémi was a better fighter than his fellows and knew not to try and absorb the blow. He parried the strike and let the blade smash into the stone ground. Rémi thrust forward one, striking Bernard in the shoulder but only struck metal. It gave him a moment to think as Bernard stepped back, just in case Rémi was luring him into a trap. Marcus knew he wasn’t.

“I only did as-“

“Kill this fool!” Abeau shouted over Rémi. “His madness could have cost the Kingdom dearly.”

You…

Nevertheless, the King ignored it. Bernard wrenched his sword free of the stone and swung again. He feinted another attack directed at his head but changed it at the last moment to his legs. The sword cleaved through his leg armour. Shrill screams filled the chamber as Rémi tumbled to the ground. The court backed further even further. Bernard did not hesitate as he plunged his sword into Rémi’s chest and twisted, ending his life.

Everything remained silent as he returned to his original position, blood still dripping from his armour and sword. The other knights gave him a wide berth but he didn’t seem to care.

“I…” Castor weakly spoke aloud.

King Lambert glanced in his direction then laid his eyes on Belinda and Alfred. “Are you two alright?”

“As…Can be expected, my King.” She was struggling slightly with words and pain coursed through her body.

“Well.” The King nodded to the corpses. “Their deaths will have to suffice for your revenge. I…Bernard, you missed one.”

The king nodded to the page, hiding amongst the court ever since the first swing.

“The boy is not responsible for the mistakes of his master,” Bernard spoke gruffly, almost a snarl. “He will join my order and learn how to be a proper knight.”

Bernard looked at the boy and he almost wet himself under his gaze. Quickly realising the alternative was more than likely death he nodded furiously and slowly approached the throne, keeping as much distance as he could from Bernard.

King Lambert looked at the corpses again and sighed. “I call a brief intermission to my court. We will reconvene once certain unpleasant details are dealt with.” He looked at Belinda and Alfred. “And you two will be able to explain to me what happened. Right from the beginning.”

Why not do that the first time? Why bother going with all this?

Marcus looked at the corpses of the Golden Roar Knights as they were ushered out. He doubted their order could do something like this and survive unscathed. In fact, there was the very real possibility they could be disbanded.

So that’s it.

Marcus looked back to the king as his assistants brought two small chairs for Belinda and Alfred. A faint smile crept over the corner of his mouth as he glanced at the corpses.

I wonder. How much of this you knew was going to happen? Or did you even make it happen?

---[]---

Marcus and Castor stood to the side of the large wooden door. Now it felt like the first time they had been brought before the king, just with everyone else standing with them. A clear distinction lay between the nobles and the Knights like a river had been cast between them. They chatted and whispered amongst themselves, always glancing at the silent and still Bernard standing to one side of the door. No one had approached him after the fight. Not even the former Golden Roar page. He hid near the back of the Knights for protection and anonymity.

“What an interesting morning.” The Red Salamander spoke quietly. “Though, I’m glad the Rémi is gone. Never liked them.”

“No one did,” Marcus replied. “But weren’t they trying very hard to have Duchess Belinda executed?”

“That failed spectacularly.”

“It did. But he still thought he could get away with it,” Marcus looked towards Terill and Abeau standing as far away as possible, their backs to the stone wall as they observed everyone before them. “Even that fell through.”

“Only because the Church left them,” Castor added quietly.

Both the Red Salamander and the Green Viper laughed, attracting the attention of those nearby but none asked. Bernard shuffled and the nobles panicked. When he didn’t move again they relaxed and resumed their bickering. Marcus felt his annoyance with them grow with every action they took. Why did they behave this way? The King and his children clearly hated it…

“What are they talking about?” The Green Viper nodded towards Tirell and Abeau.

Marcus glanced out of one eye and they were indeed talking. Rather, Abeau was talking to Tirell while he looked blankly through the crowd. Marcus did not have the ability to read lips and there was no way for either him or Castor to get close without alerting them. But there might another way.

Marcus moved through the Knights and found the young Golden Roar page. He looked terrified as Marcus approached but he didn’t try and run away, even though he clearly wanted to flee the country.

“What’s your name?”

The page gulped and looked at the ground. “Noah, my lord.”

Marcus smiled and knelt to his level. Noah locked eyes with him for a moment before trying to shy away.

“I need a favour from you, Noah.”

Noah looked at him. “What, my lord?”

“I’m not a lord.” Marcus tried his best to calm him with his voice but it didn’t have much of an effect. “But I do need your help, and you’re the only one that I can ask.”

“Okay…” Noah began to hyperventilate. “Am I going to die? When I was sent to the Golden Roar they told me it was a good place. I don’t want to die.”

Marcus held his shoulder. “You’re not going to die. Not yet. Bernard is a good person.”

I think at least.

“I need you to get close to those two priests, Terill and Abeua, and listen to what they have to say. Look like your running away from us and rest against the wall. Can you do that?”

Noah nodded and took a deep breath. “I can.”

“Good. I’ll come and get you when it’s time.”

Noah nodded and ran away from Marcus. Marcus watched him as he returned to the Knights. Terill saw Noah approaching and then Marcus’s forced glare. He ignored Noah when he stopped ten odd feet away from them and sank onto the floor.

“What did you just do?” the Red Salamander asked.

“Those two are up to something. And I want to know what?”

“So you use someone that’s effectively condemned to death?” he chuckled. “I thought you were nobler than that.”

Marcus shrugged and refused to answer.

The Green Viper continued speaking to Castor. “But they’re really odd. They’re as tall as children but they could easily drink you under the table.”

“True.” The Red Salamander nodded. “They work very hard though. I don’t think I’ve seen one since I was a child. By the Holy Father, that was a long time ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

The wooden doors creaked open and a young man poked his head through. “The King is ready to continue. If you would please all enter the chambers immediately.”

“That was quick.” The Green Viper smiled. “Guess they’re desperate to get this over with.”

Marcus shot Noah a look and beckoned him to his side. Noah didn’t look at Terill and Abeau as he approached.

“What have you heard?” Marcus said as the Knights and nobles jostled to enter the chamber first.

“I don’t know,” Noah replied. When Marcus glanced at him he almost broke down. “Just that they’re planning something. Something about Rémi going too far. I’m sorry, they didn’t say much.”

“It’s okay. Head inside and stay near Bernard. He’ll keep you safe.”

Noah nodded and joined the crowd. Marcus waited for everyone to enter the chamber, until he, Terill and Abeau were left outside. The fat priest smiled and entered, seemingly without a care in the world, while Terill held a tiny scowl on his face, one that wasn’t directed at him. Terill caught his gaze and quickly averted it, rushing into the chambers.

The bodies had been removed, along with the carpets and nearly every blood stain along with them. A thin, weak line remained between the gaps of the stones, but that was all that even hinted at the carnage that has been unleashed in this room. Where the bodies had been moved to he had no idea, probably through one of the many doors along the side of the chamber.

Duchess Belinda sat to the side of the King, with Alfred standing behind her. They were still both bruised and battered but had been cleaned up as best they could. Their clothes were the same but every effort had been made to clean and mend them. Belinda smiled weakly as Marcus approached and stood in his old position.

The King smiled as he looked to Bernard and then to the spot where Rémi once lay. Marcus was sure that he knew of their actions before this unfolded. To speak such a thing would separate his head from his shoulders.

“Now…” Everyone silenced at King Lambert’s words. “That the…unfortunate incident has been dealt with we can continue. Instead of listening to inflammatory words and empty rhetoric,” he glanced at the two priests, who avoided his eye. “We should listen to the person at the centre of this whole incident.”

He looked at Belinda and nodded. She scrunched her hands on the edge of her dress.

“Very well. I did hire the wanderers to defend our Kingdom. The Grand mage, the Blood Berserker and the masked woman.”

“Do you know their names?” Terill asked quietly.

Belinda looked to the Inquisitor. She studied his face for a moment, a tiny frown formed on his old features before she nodded.

“I do. But that is between myself and the King. I will not divulge that information.” Terill said nothing and allowed Belinda to continue. “During the height of the siege on Maxill, when we were about to collapse, they…they came to our rescue. I immediately hired them to help us defeat the invasion. I did not ask if they were heretics or questioned what they did. They saved many lives.”

“What did you have to give them?” Abeau asked. “No one works for free…”

“Least of all you people,” Belinda muttered under her breath. It was loud enough for Abeau to hear. He reflexively puffed up but held his composure, especially after Terill touched his side.

“Some gold, not very much considering what they did for us.”

“What about the pen?”

Belinda shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. They barged into our room and began ransacking it before one picked up that pen and claimed it was powered by heretical magics. You can understand why I was confused. Especially after they dragged a peasant in, wearing a priests’ smock, proclaiming it to be true.”

Belinda flashed Abeau a smile, one which irritated him to no end.

“This has not been what you expected.” The King reached over and patted Belinda’s hand. “To come here at my request and be assaulted in body and mind…I received word from Lord Marcus that your territory has seen a massive increase in stability and productivity of late.”

Belinda desperately tried to hide the twitch that ran down her neck. “It has, your majesty.”

She opened her mouth to speak but held it shut. The changes the King mentioned had only occurred after Anton arrived the first time, well before his third arrival during the Clansmen invasion. Alfred had spoken at length to him about what happened when they were at Nonbur’n. The King couldn’t know any of that.

“Well, that area has always been comparatively poor...I bequeath to you the wealth of Golden Roar members present to do with as you please. I’m sure that it’ll be a significant sum for you.”

“Thank you.” Belinda bowed her head. “I will endeavour to make my territory, and the Kingdom, a stronger place.”

The King nodded as one of the announcers approached. He whispered something into his ear that brightened his face tenfold. He nodded to the announcer who clapped his hands several times.

“Valérie Qaiviel, Queen of Qaiviel, has returned.” He said. Marcus, noticed a certain burst of energy amongst the nobles.

The wooden doors opened again and a solitary woman approached. Marcus kept himself from gawking, though many did not. Valérie cast an impressive figure; tall, flowing blonde hair, a small but pretty face and a ridiculously curvaceous body that bounced hypnotically with every step. She wore simple but clearly expensive clothes. The form-fitting white clothing left a considerable opening above her breasts. A delicate smile formed on her face, her dark brown eyes only adding to the image of beauty.

As she passed the nobles her smile only widened and grew more sweet, winking every now and then at a particularly extravagant noble, even blowing one a kiss.

Now I get why they dress that way…

Valérie had some white make-up on as well, though it was only a spattering.

“It has been too long Lambert.” She hummed sweetly as she approached the throne.

A large chair emerged on the other side of the throne to which Valérie sat on, gently wiping her backside in a deliberately provocating way. She smiled as she held and began stroking Lambert’s hand.

She must barely be in her thirties.

Castor coughed to his side. He was absolutely smitten. Marcus sighed internally, though he wouldn’t deny that he was having some similar thoughts. Belinda glanced down at her body than to Valérie. He knew that Belinda was a very slim woman.

“How have you been, my dear?” Lambert asked softly.

Valérie giggled, almost chuckling. “I have had the absolute time of my life. But I’m so glad to be back. My tour through the west of the Kingdom has been very enlightening for me. There are so many people within the Kingdom that have yet to receive the blessings of the Holy Father.”

So that’s their way into his head.

Valérie smiled. “The new cathedral looks absolutely stunning.” A sly smile formed on her face. “And so do some of the men out there. But,” She patted his hand. “Those details are very long and boring for most people and not suited for your court. When I arrived they told me you were holding court with nearly every representative of the Kingdom. Whatever for?”

Lambert quickly conveyed what had occurred. Valérie listened with genuine shock and disbelief. When he told her about Belinda’s treatment her face turned red with anger.

“That is no way to treat a woman.” She snapped, at no one in particular. “Where are these fools that dare hurt a woman that way? Well?”

“They’re dead,” Lambert replied with finality.

Valérie smiled. “I’m sure that clever old you had something to do with all that.” She turned to Belinda. “Are you alright my dear?”

Belinda’s eye twitched as Valérie leant forward and pushed her left arm into her chest, accentuating something that needn’t be accentuated even more.

“I am, all thing’s considered. I have been compensated with more than just their deaths.”

Probably enough gold to buy a whole city in fact.

Valérie nodded furiously. “Good. After this is over you must come and speak to me. We’ll get you some things to deal with those nasty scratches and wounds until they heal.” Before Belinda could reply she looked to the King. “But first, the King and I need to become reacquainted. It has been far too long.”

I didn’t think you would have it in you, Lambert.

Many of the Knights felt the same, though none would dare even make a twitch that they held such thoughts. Bernard was the only one to remain motionless, simply keeping his eye suspiciously on the Queen’s hands.

“Something’s wrong,” Castor whispered.

“You’re just jealous.”

“No…Out there.”

Marcus glanced at Castor, who nodded towards the gathered nobles. He couldn’t tell what was wrong but he could feel something. It took another heartbeat before it made sense. The shadows were moving, people were moving throughout the court, along the walls and behind the Royal Guards. They dressed well though not like the flashily dressed nobles. These men and women were very well manicured but there was a hardness in their eyes, a hardness that Marcus had only seen in soldiers. And no noble would ever get his hands dirty.

Slowly the mass began to close in, Marcus rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, but Valérie rose up and pulled the King with her. The surge immediately stopped and dissipated.

What are the Royal Guard’s doing?

Marcus glanced at the door. The Royal Guards stood motionless. Something was very wrong here.

“Everyone, if you will excuse us the King and I need to leave. I also need to see my children. It has been some time since I’ve seen them. I don’t like going so long without seeing their faces.” Valérie took the King by the hand and led him forward. “We will send messengers when we are ready to continue.”

---[]---

Once again Marcus stood outside the council chambers, with no one really knowing what to do. Food and drinks were provided this time but it felt like it was just thrown together. Considering the queen had just thrown them out so she could bed the king it was understandable.

This time small groups had formed amongst the crowds, smaller divisions amongst the Knights and the nobles. A few stood by themselves, mainly Bernard, but they were the exceptions.

As Marcus sniffed at some heavily watered wine Duchess Belinda and Alfred approached. They both looked a little better but not by much.

“You must forgive me for telling the King about your involvement with the Grand Mage.” Marcus began immediately. “I had no choice but to give your name.”

“I understand. He explained what had happened. And I told him everything about them.”

“So he knows…”

Belinda nodded and leant in close. “He seemed more surprised that it was all true.”

“I…I don’t want to fight them.” Castor quietly mumbled. He was still having flashbacks to the potential storm he had nearly unleashed.

“No.” Belinda smiled. “And neither does the King. I explained they are perfectly harmless, so long as you don’t threaten them.”

Again Castor whimpered.

“He was more interested in why they appeared rather than who they were,” Alfred added.

“I can understand that.” Marcus nodded. “So what about you two? I get the feeling that everything has been wrapped up. Surely you two should be leaving this place before the Church decides to have another go at you. A better attempt this time.”

Belinda smiled. “Of course. The King explained what was going to happen but…the Queen arrived before he could dismiss us. We can’t just leave without his word.”

“The money from the Golden Roar will be put to good use.” Alfred smiled but Belinda looked a little awkward. Marcus knew that he was managing everything while she soaked up the glory.

“I bet you didn’t expect that when you arrived.” Castor smiled, his smile fading when Belinda and Alfred looked away. “Don’t tell me you-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Belinda cut him off. “All that matters is that a dangerous faction has been dealt a serious blow and the King has the pretext to increase scrutiny of the Church. And someone loyal has gained more power and influence.”

“You lost a tooth…”

Belinda shrugged. “I know someone that can fix that in a heartbeat. But…That might be quite difficult now. I was under the impression they were only going to attack us and not break out things.” Belinda pulled on the hem of her skirt. “This is the best thing I have left after they wrecked everything. I’ll need to get something more comfortable before we head back.”

“I’ll see to it the moment we are excused from the King’s audience.” Alfred bowed his head.

“So the pen was magical.”

Belinda nodded. “Yes. And it was the only way to contact them. Well, there is another way but it takes far too long. Anyway, I need to get the King’s permission to leave so I can fix that and get out of this city. Something about this place upsets me.”

Alfred nodded. “The whole court looked like it was alive and starting to close in.”

Marcus was glad that he wasn’t the only one that saw it.

“So we just need to see the king before he gets too…involved,” Marcus said. “If it’s called off for the rest of today you’ll be stuck here for another day. And I don’t want to be in this place any longer. I preferred things when they were simple and I know who my enemy is.”

“I think we all want it that way.” Alfred chimed in with a knowing smile.

“So how do we find the King?”

“Ask.”

Belinda turned to a Royal Guard and approached him before Alfred could stop her. She spoke quickly with the man, pouting and planting both hands on her hips. The guard seemed rather unaccustomed to her questions and relented. He waved three more guards to his side. Belinda returned to their group while Alfred looked mortified.

“I just explained that the Queen wanted to speak to me as well. That was enough to get through to them. Hopefully, we catch them before the act starts.”

The four Royal Guards led them away from the chamber and through a nondescript corridor. They walked in silence as they traversed the corridors before arriving at another large door. This was far less garish than the golden trimmed door leading to the throne room. Nevertheless, it was clearly very expensive. The guard that Belinda spoke to sighed and knocked on the door.

He heard movement on the other side before the door slowly opened. Valérie peered her head around the door, the white makeup completely removed and been replaced by a natural flush. A flush from exertion. Belinda coughed and shuffled her foot.

“I’m extremely sorry to disturb you, your majesty, but I need to ask permission from the King to leave.” Valérie cocked her head slightly. “I…I do not feel very comfortable in this place, with what happened to me.” Belinda rubbed her cheek over her missing tooth. “I wish to return to my land and continue my work.”

“I can understand that.” Valérie smiled and shook her head. “Please give me just a moment and I’ll ask him. I’m sure I can convince him.”

She winked and retreated behind the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Belinda shuffled slightly and flicked at her hair, quickly regaining her composure. Whispers came through the door, Valérie’s, and another. But it didn’t sound like Lambert. It was too high pitched. Marcus held his thoughts to himself as everyone else remained standing patiently. Had they heard as well?

Eventually, Valérie peered around the door again, a smile forming on her face. “I just spoke with the King and he says you may go. He was about to tell you that but…well.” Valérie flushed slightly. “It seems that he became a little distracted.”

“I…Thank you.” Belinda bowed her head. Alfred leant to Belinda’s ear and whispered. “The King also gave me possession of the wealth of the Knights of the Golden Roar that assaulted me.”

“Disgusting men.” Valérie winked at Marcus and Castor. “They had been tainted by their greed and turned away from true faith. Not like these handsome men. I will prepare the writ.”

Valérie disappeared again. She returned with a beautiful piece of white paper, a single sheet that would have cost a small fortune, and handed it to Belinda.

“Here you go. I got the names from Lambert. That’s quite a fortune you’ve got there. I suggest that you get their wealth before the other Knights hide that money.”

“We will do that the first moment we can,” Alfred said.

Valérie smiled and curtly nodded. “I look forward to hearing more about you, Belinda. I hope that the Holy Father watches over you from now on. Oh, just one more thing.”

Valérie emerged once again and slid between the gap in the door, wearing a very loose white robe and holding a collection of glass bottles in her arm. “I have these for you. There’s no way a woman should be without their weapons.” She handed them over to a somewhat bemused Belinda, clinking lightly as Belinda struggled to hold them all together. “Even though we will never be strong enough to wield a sword like our men we have other ways to fight.”

Belinda nodded, though Marcus didn’t believe her sincerity. Valérie retreated to the door and waved seductively before closing and locking the door.

“That was easy,” Marcus grumbled.

“Yes…” Belinda looked down to the glass bottles in her arms. “What am I supposed to do with this? I barely use make-up as it is.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t discuss this right here,” Alfred said quietly.

He looked up to the Royal Guards, who kept their faces blank. Belinda nodded and turned to their guards. “Please take us back to the throne room. We have intruded upon them enough as it is.”

The guards quickly and silently escorted them back to the throne room. Everyone still waited, many of the Knights and nobles were eating and drinking with abandon, some from the different groups even chatting with each other. Bernard stood to one side while Terill and Abeau were stuck in some sort of argument, with Abeau doing most of the talking. Marcus tried to find Noah and found him to the side of Bernard, still wearing his golden clothes. He doubted he had overheard anything this time.

As the Royal guards moved back to the door Belinda moved far away from the main group. Many nobles gasped as they saw the bottles in Belinda’s arms. She smiled towards them and lowered her arms so they could get a better look. She sniggered as they scowled in jealousy.

“Maybe they’re not so bad.” Belinda murmured when she finally stopped. “Alfred. How soon can we leave?”

“Right now if you wish. However, I would suggest that we acquire an independent escort before we leave. I do not trust our current small escort to provide us safety until we leave the city.”

“Are you concerned we’ll be attacked?”

Alfred nodded seriously.

“Very well. Do you know any good mercenaries that we can hire in this city?”

“I do. They should be out of work and eager for an escort job, especially if we pay them well.”

“Please see to that. I want to be leaving as soon as possible.”

“If we could leave we would escort you,” Marcus said.

Belinda smiled. “Thank you. I imagine that you will not be here for much longer. Honestly, if the Queen had not arrived then everything would have been finished and you would be heading back home as well.”

Yes…We would have…

“Castor will go with you to make sure there aren’t any issues.” Marcus looked to Castor, who gave a curt nod. “I will remain with Belinda here.”

“Very well. We shall return as soon as we can.” Alfred bowed his head to Marcus and Castor followed him out.

That left Marcus and Belinda alone. She seemed a little uncomfortable being without Alfred, especially holding the glass bottles in her arms. Marcus helped her place them on the ground so she could relax.

“Sorry again that I had to tell the King your name,” Marcus said. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“There’s no way you could have known.”

“You know more than you admitted, don’t you?”

Belinda nodded once. “That…That pen was very important. A gift given by them, which allowed me to contact them no matter the distance. It was quite interesting to use, but now it’s completely useless.”

Belinda sighed and looked at the stone floor. “This place and these people…It isn’t how I imagined it. Nothing like the stories or what I remembered. Why did I want to come here in the first place?”

Marcus had nothing to say.

---[]---

Both remained silent until Alfred and Castor returned sometime later. The nobles continued to glance towards them and the glass bottles sitting at Belinda’s feet. Alfred looked quite happy when he approached, as happy as someone with a heavily bruised face, something made infinitely worse by his age.

“I have contracted with the White Dogs again.” Alfred began. “Well, a different group than we used before but I can vouch for them. They’re waiting for us.”

Belinda nodded. “Thank you, Alfred. What about the wealth of the Golden Roar?”

“I have organised with the Royal Army to seize their wealth. So long as we give them a small fraction of the total wealth. That will be dealt with while we heading back to Maxill.”

“Very good.” Belinda knelt down and collected the glass bottles. “Marcus, Castor, when you are free of this place meet me in Maxill. There are many things that I would like to discuss with you.”

She bowed her head once and left. Many of the nobles began chatting the moment they were out of sight. Marcus paid them no mind as he turned to Castor.

“Did Alfred say anything?”

Castor shook his head. “Nothing really. It sounded like he knew those mercenaries really well. They already knew him by name and didn’t try to haggle the price.”

“Well, I first knew Alfred as a mercenary. A pretty good one, until he fucked up his leg. He became Belinda’s butler after that. In his prime, he probably could have taken down those stupid Golden Roar knights.”

“Huh…So why didn’t we ask to leave at the same time?”

“Because-”

“Hello!”

Both stopped and turned to the new voice, one Marcus had not heard before. A few nobles gasped as a well-dressed young man emerged from the crowds of nobles. Marcus searched his memory for a name.

“You…” Marcus began as the young man approached. He looked very similar to King Lambert, a much younger version. “Forgive me, you are either Leo or Giles. You look nearly identical.”

“I get that a lot. I’m Leo, you can tell which is which since Giles has a scar on his chin.” He smiled sheepishly as he stopped a few feet away, just out of sword striking distance. “Though mother has problems with that all the time.”

“I can imagine that. How can we help, Prince Leo?”

“Father was supposed to tell us that there was a meeting, especially since one of us will be leading the Kingdom in…in the near future.” Leo appeared a little embarrassed by his words. “So whoever is going to take over needs to know how to deal with everything. From what I heard today would have been a good experience.”

Maybe not if the King wanted Belinda and Alfred to be assaulted so he could deal with the Golden Roar and put the Church on notice. If that's what actually happened…

“You didn’t miss much,” Castor said. “Other than Bernard killing some knights.”

“That’s the Black Rider guy, right? I’ve never seen him fight before.” His eyes glistened, just like the near insane level that he wore the first time. “What was it like?”

“Very quick,” Marcus admitted. “I wouldn’t want to fight him. But you probably won’t get the chance to see him fight again.”

Or maybe you will.

“Prince Leo, do you know if anything…strange…is going on?”

Leo frowned and thought deeply, eventually shaking his head. “No more strange than usual. Mother’s home early, which is a little odd. She shouldn’t have been back until fall. If we had known we would have gathered to meet her and not be strewn across the city.”

Before Marcus could ask anything more the wooden doors opened and a young assistant emerged.

“His Majesty is ready to continue and asks that you all assemble as quickly as possible. There is still another important item to discuss today.”

“It’s probably the centaurs,” Leo whispered to them. “They’ve been getting rowdy recently and have started to probe into our western territory again. Though I don’t know how beasts could be that threatening.”

The nobles and knights started to file into the throne room, each jostling to be first.

“Have you ever seen a Centaur?” Marcus asked.

“No.” Leo sighed and shrugged dramatically. “In fact, I’ve barely left the capital my whole life.”

“Imagine a horse’s body fused with the upper half of a human.” Marcus began. “They can move as fast as a horse but they aren’t as stupid. Able to swing a sword or spear and use their tremendous bestial strength to simply crush their enemies…that being us. Thankfully they tend not to wear much in the way of armour so they’re relatively easy to put down.”

“You’ve fought them before?”

“Yes. And I don’t want to do it unprepared. Again.”

His mind flashed back to a muddy field. Mud covered his heavy armour as he scrambled to get to his feet, as men and beasts fought each other in an orgy of blood, iron and flailing hooves.

“Does…does that mean that their women are bare-breasted?” Leo asked, a sly smile on the corner of his mouth.

“Yes. But they don’t have large breasts. They wouldn’t be so agile if they were.”

Leo frowned.

“Ask your mother why that might be a problem,” Marcus said.

Leo laughed, followed by a loud cough by the attendant standing at the door. Everyone else had already entered.

“I can see why that would be a problem. Come on, my brothers and sister have already beaten us inside. If we wait too long they’ll have the best spots.”

Leo smiled and moved towards the door.

“He wants our support if there’s a succession war,” Marcus grumbled quietly. “At least he’s thinking that far ahead.”

Castor glanced at him and slowly nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. But why would he think that just talking to us would make us support him?”

“The others haven’t yet. I guess he’s just getting ahead of the others.” Marcus shook his head. “Let’s get this centaur thing dealt with then get out of this place.”

Chapter 094. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Centaur’s Countermeasure

Chapter 094:

Marcus stood in his previous position at the side of the King amongst the other Knights. The Queen sat in a large and comfortable chair to the King’s side Belinda’s chair had been removed. Valérie looked thoroughly refreshed, though retained a noticeable flush, and had applied a thin layer of makeup to her face. She wore something more befitting of a queen, a long and tight purple dress that reached to nearly her toes, with a pair of purple comfortable slippers poking out from underneath, slowly flexing as she smiled at the rest of the court. Though she looked more like a Queen than before her choice of attire left a gaping window into her cleavage. Marcus wondered how effective that tactic was. Probably very, judging by the eyes around him.

Where Belinda once sat Lambert’s children stood in attendance. the nearly identical twins Leo and Giles, the third son Harold, who looked almost like the identical triplet if it weren’t for his slightly withdrawn and tired aura, and Lila, the first princess. She held the same tired look as Harold but didn’t slouch to try and reduce her presence. Rather, she appeared completely uninterested in what was happening around her. For a brief moment, he caught her eye and found it not so empty.

Lambert cleared his throat. “Now that everyone in my family has gathered we can continue. We can discuss something that threatens the entire Kingdom.” He glanced towards Terill and Abeau. “Beyond three potential heretics.”

Terill looked away while Abeau took a deep breath and kept himself calm.

“But while the eastern Border Forts, under the protection of the orders of the Blue Firestorm, the White Lightning and the Grey Dawn, continue to deal with the predations of the Clansmen and their new Orc allies, the threat from the west grows ever stronger.”

A few murmurs of discontent grew from the Knights and even the nobles.

“The Centaurs have proven unmanageable ever since winter ended and continue to harry the western provinces. Fabrice? Could you please continue?”

The Red Salamander Knight stood forward. “Of course my King. We are ready to deal with this threat. My father dealt with the last major assault by these cloven miscreants. And we will not fail. Our Orders will hold firm and throw them back into the wastes.”

The King seemed very impressed by his words. “That is very good to hear, but I’ve been told that the Centaurs far more numerous than before. One of the largest ever seen.”

Fabrice nodded, his armour clinked with every movement. “They are, my King. However, they have yet to leave the wastes and we cannot be certain when they will try. It might not be for several more winters though, but by that time they would be even stronger than they are now.”

“Some sort of pre-emptive strike?”

“That would be ideal. But the wastes are vast and open. And the Centaurs can move faster than our Knights. We would need a truly massive force to surround and force them into a decisive battle. Men that my Order simply does not have to spare or can afford to lose. Especially with Bebbezzar falling apart.”

The King nodded. Marcus and Castor had been locked in the Inn for quite some time and they had no news of the outside world in some time. He knew, given his relative closeness to the Bebbezarians that there were serious problems to the north. Peasant revolts in the east, assassinations in the capital and merchants to the south carving out miniature empires, empires that were hungry for land and soldiers. Had it become even worse?

Marcus glanced at Castor who shook his head.

“True.” The King nodded. “But I would like to do something to halt those creatures and stop them tearing through my Kingdom. I don’t want to see those…things…attacking one of our cities. Regardless of the decision, we make it’ll be costly in terms of money and manpower.”

“My King.” Abeau stepped forward, pushing his way through the Knights and standing where Marcus and Castor knelt when they first arrived. The other Knights only moved as they felt sorry for his attempts to move them aside. “We too have been considering this threat. This concerns all of the Kingdom, from commoner to king, and we all know of these creatures utter disdain for our way of life.”

“And Churches,” Lambert added dryly.

“Yes, my King.” Abeau continued. “They destroy everything in their wake, regardless of its origins.”

Lambert grumbled, disappointed that Abeau missed his point. Strangely, Terill was silent with a hint of a frown on his face.

“We have found a countermeasure to this threat. One that, with your permission, I would like to demonstrate.”

“Do you have it here? It would be interesting to see the Church of the Holy Father as something that actually helps protect the people…”

Valérie patted Lambert's hand and smiled at him.

“Yes. We have it here and can show it to you in but a moment.” Terill frowned again at Abeau.

Lambert nodded in approval. Abeau nearly skipped to the door. The Royal Guards opened the door and allowed him through. He disappeared from view for a few moments before returning with another priest, this one of middle age, who stood near the door before he returned back to his previous position smiling even wider than before. Terill became increasingly concerned.

“My King, your highness, princes, Knights and nobles. It gives me great honour to show you the result of our labour.”

Marcus felt a deeply unsettling feeling rise in his stomach. He checked his weapons and shield, just in case. The wooden doors opened and a dozen people entered, dressed in white cloaks. No part of their skin was visible and their hoods were pulled down low to hide their faces. Their hands were covered by their enormous sleeves and were tucked into one another. The nobles had no idea what to think and simply stood in silence as they passed. They stopped behind Abeau and kept their heads down.

“And what are twelve monks supposed to do?” The king asked. A few of the Knights chuckled. “I’m sure the strength of their faith surpasses us all, but how are they supposed to defeat a creature as strong as a centaur. Especially when they’re thousands of them.”

The King glanced at Terill but found nothing on the man’s elderly face. When he looked away Marcus saw genuine concern and…shame?

“Judging just by their appearance you would think so.” Abeau smiled, one that deeply disturbed Marcus. “However, a demonstration would be the best way to convey their strength. With your permission.”

The King nodded again and dismissively waved Abeau on. Abeau signalled to the priest helper standing by the door. Another dozen people emerged but these didn’t wear long white cloaks. Eight wore comparatively little, ragged pants with iron links holding their wrists together, their faces dirty and angry. Prisoners. The other four were mercenaries that ensured the prisoners didn’t try to escape, even though the prisoners had links around their ankles. They were moved just behind Abeau and stopped. Still, the King looked on with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Already one carpet had to be replaced this day.

“Just one of our new soldier will be able to take down eight armed men. And this soldier has only had a few days training at most.” Abeau smiled. “We can make soldiers at such a rate that no one will be able to stand before us.”

Our soldiers? Not the Kings’?

Lambert clearly had the same question spinning in his mind. Valérie caressed his hand and calmed him down.

“Surely you mean the King’s soldiers?” Valérie asked sweetly.

Abeau feverishly bowed his head. “Forgive my words, my King. My lady. I was speaking of the Kingdom at large.”

The King waved his hand to continue, though he was far more pensive than before. Abeau snapped his finger at the closest and shortest robbed man. He pulled his hands from his sleeves, they were covered in very thick gloves, and pulled back his hood and let the robe fall from his body. Everyone gasped. For the first time in his life, Marcus wished that the Church only took children to abuse them.

The child, for he was not old enough to be a man yet, wore nothing but short pants and the thick gloves. Every part of his exposed modestly built body had stitches, where long and deep cuts had been made into his body then roughly sewn together. Some of the wounds, around his hearts and face, glowed with a faint purple hue. The face had suffered the worst. The lips were completely removed with only rough pieces of still healing flesh remained. Teeth remained but they had been…modified with the same purple hue of his wounds. His hair was cut very short with more stitch wounds running over his skull.

Abeau beamed with pride as he showed off his…creation. The King was absolutely mortified and recoiled from the sight. The Queen, bizarrely, looked happy as she marvelled at the child like he was a newly born puppy. Harold and Giles looked worried but not at the child. Lila kept her face blank while Leo was even more horrified than the King. Every Knight looked on in disgust, even Bernard, while the Nobles were too stunned to respond.

“Caiden?”

Marcus snapped his head to Castor. The child turned his head towards Castor and frowned ever so slightly.

“I know that boy.” Castor turned to Marcus. “He was Governor Eilis’s son. But…He was going to be sent to a Knight Order.”

“This child…” Abeau planted both hands on the boy’s shoulders. His vision turned away from Castor and back to Abeau, all emotion disappearing. “Volunteered himself for this undertaking. A very noble sacrifice so that all the enemies of the Holy Father and the Qaiviel Kingdom could be destroyed.”

“Explain yourself right now!” Lambert slammed his fist onto the throne. “Explain to me why you have butchered this child!”

Valérie patted his hand. “Before you go any further, perhaps we should see what they can do.”

“What?”

Valérie nodded at Abeau before Lambert could erupt further. Abeau nodded to the mercenaries who quickly removed the prisoner’s shackles. The prisoners looked equally concerned as the mercenaries presented them with weapons. Before the King could yell again Valérie held his hand tight. He was still on the verge of exploding. A quick glance and Bernard held his hand over the handle of his broadsword.

The prisoners held their weapons with some experience, but that was overridden by their confusion. They all looked to Abeau.

“If you are able to kill this child warrior the Church is willing to pardon your crimes.”

“Doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice.” One prisoner, wielding a short sword, murmured.

Abeau smiled. “No. You really don’t.” He snapped his fingers again and Caiden moved in front of the prisoners while everyone else, including the other cloaked figures, moved away. “Begin!”

Caiden darted towards the closest prisoner and swung his fist at the man’s stomach. He dodged the swift but uncoordinated strike of the sword and collided with the prisoner’s stomach. Flesh tore and blood flew as his fist travelled through his stomach and punched out his spine. The prisoner gasped, dropping his sword, and desperately scrapped at Caiden’s scarred body but couldn’t find any purchase. Caiden flung the prisoner at the others, a sickening sound of flesh tearing emanated as his fist tore out more flesh. The sound of broken bones filled the air as they collided with the other prisoners, except the one that spoke who rolled out of harm’s way at the last second. Caiden hesitated before picking up a sword and carved through the scrambling prisoners. One raised his sword to protect himself but it shattered under the strike, so too did Caiden’s. He cared not and hacked through one prisoner after another. Every kill appeared to brighten the purple hue that leaked from his stitched wounds. After the next breath, it was gone. The Nobles ran to the edges of the throne room, where Marcus saw strange movement again. A terrifying scream from a dying prisoner drew his attention again.

“Draw your sword Castor,” Marcus whispered harshly. Castor followed his order and hid his drawn sword behind his shield, even as he watched the display unfold before him.

The last downed prisoner desperately raised his weapon to strike Caiden but did not connect. Caiden ripped the sword from his hand, grabbing the blade itself, before thrusting the shattered remains into his head. Marcus knew the strength required for such a strike, he had performed it himself many times, but someone that slim couldn’t do that except to perhaps a Goblin. The prisoner that dodged his throw ran at Caiden. Caiden didn’t have his sword ready and tried to back away but could not beat the prisoner’s momentum. He swung down and cleaved a portion of flesh off his leg. Caiden didn’t let out a sound as the hunk of flesh fell to the ground. The prisoner smiled but it quickly vanished as he looked down. No blood leaked from either the wound or the piece of flesh on the ground. Instead tiny tendrils, hundreds of black and purple worms, reached out from both wounds, desperately reaching out for each other. The prisoner stood stunned as Caiden picked up his flesh and held it against his leg. A sickening squelching emanated throughout the silent room while Caiden grunted in pain.

The prisoner, upon realising he should have moved, lunged into another attack. Caiden took his blow, parried the strike to the ground and swung at his unprotected head. The sword cleaved through his skull, sending blood and brain over one side of the gathered nobles. They recoiled in horror as the final prisoner’s body fell lifelessly to the ground. Caiden turned back to Abeau for further orders, his face blank and devoid of emotion. The wound on his leg had healed, leaving only a tiny white scar amongst the much deeper stitch scars.

Abeau beamed with pride as he turned to the King. Terill, however, desperately tried to hide his hyperventilating panic. Abeau didn’t look at him and clapped his hands twice. Caiden and the cloaked soldiers assembled before the king, while the blood of the prisoners seeped into the carpet and stone once again.

“As you can see, my King, just one of these soldiers is able to take down eight armed men, and while not properly armed or armoured. With the proper equipment, an army of these would be able to destroy any foe that dares threaten us.”

“How…How is anything you just showed me good? Do you have no respect for humanity?” The King had managed to calm himself down. “I know of your scripture, you little snot. I’ve had it preached enough to me that I probably know it better than you. But…How in anyone’s name is a creature like this supposed to be the will of a kind and benevolent god that watches over the good of humanity?”

Abeau smiled. “These are the warriors of the Holy Father. They have given themselves up to a higher cause.”

“A higher cause?! Are you seriously trying to peddle that shit to me?!”

Something at the door caught Marcus’s attention. The priest waved forward a series of attendants, plainly dressed monks, to retrieve the corpses. But the Royal Guards standing at the door made him deeply concerned. Something about them seemed different to the others standing in the throne room.

Marcus turned to the knights beside him as the King and Abeau continued to speak in every louder volume, led by Abeau. “Draw your swords. Something’s about to go wrong.”

“You don’t say,” Fabrice grumbled and drew his sword, along with many of the Knights.

“This…” Lambert stood up from his throne, his age evaporated in the face of his anger. “This is not going to happen in my Kingdom. Ever! You, and the rest of your Church, you have stepped too far this. And for that, I am actually glad. For too long I’ve let you do whatever you please and cover it by claiming it is the will of your god. No longer will you corrupt and poison this land. You and your creatures and hereby sentenced to death.”

“Lambert. Please, don’t be rash.” Valérie stood up and tried to hold his hands but he brushed her aside.

“Rash? Damn it, woman. Can’t you see what they have done to a child?”

“Please, don’t do this.” She was almost pleading in her voice. “What they do is for the good of all humanity. You must see this!”

“You will not change my mind on this.”

Tears flowed down Valérie’s eyes as she slapped him. Then red ran down Lambert’s neck.

Chaos erupted the next moment. Lambert staggered backwards and fell down onto his throne as Leo pushed past his oddly stationary brothers and sisters and ran to his side. Bernard drew his great-sword and advanced on the Queen. Her eyes were full of anger as she attempted to stare down the giant but he would not cow. As he raised his sword high to cleave her in two something struck him from behind. Caiden collided with his back and pushed him forward. The sword missed the Queen and smashed into her chair. He dropped the sword and attempted to kick Caiden but he had already backed away and the kick hit only air.

“Attack!” Abeau screamed.

The remaining robbed men cast aside their white clothes and lunged towards Bernard. Not all were children like Caiden. Most were adult men but some were clearly once women, though the obvious way to determine their sex had been removed and sewn together with more thick black stitches.

“For the King!” Fabrice yelled.

The other Knights cheered and lunged into the fray, Marcus held Castor back despite his desire to attack. There were bigger things at stake. Though these new soldiers were indeed strong they wore no armour and had no defence against a blade. Once the Knights reached Bernard they set upon the creations with a terrible fury. Red blood, pieces of dark flesh and pieces of metal flew into the air as the fight descended in a blur of shouts and movements.

The Royal Guards, standing at the sides of the chamber, ran towards the throne but stopped when the side doors opened and they turned to fight whatever attacked them from behind. Screams emanated from the nobles as they began to run about wildly, their brightly coloured clothes mixing into the swirling maelstrom of violence. Plain clothed mercenaries dove around the Royal Guards and joined the struggling stitch soldiers.

Marcus glanced at the throne. Leo desperately tried to stem the flow of blood while Lambert quickly succumbed, the Queen hid behind the chair, Lila had disappeared and Giles and Harold were advancing upon the throne with daggers in hand. Marcus didn’t have time to think. He ran at the two princes with his shield raised. Leo looked back, the colour drained from his face as he saw his two brothers ready to attack him. He had nothing to defend himself. Marcus collided with the princes and sent them careening towards the far wall. Valérie let out a shriek but Marcus had no time for her.

“I-” Leo managed to squeak out as the King’s head slumped forward.

“Time to go,” Marcus yelled as he ripped the first prince from his father’s corpse.

He managed a step before the crack of breaking wood came from the front. The main doors burst open, the two Royal Guards stationed there had pulled them open, and a horde of plain mercenaries burst through and charged towards the Knights. Marcus spied crossbows amongst the mercenaries. Some Royal Guards split off and moved to intercept the new mercenaries. The mercenaries stopped and unleashed a barrage of bolts. The bolts pierced through the armour of the guards and several dropped but many survived despite being deeply wounded. They charged at the mercenaries, the mercenaries clearly expected for them to go down and hadn’t prepared for the counter-attack, and the Royal Guard’s began to tear into them.

Marcus had no idea what was going on anymore. Who was in the right or wrong, who was friend or foe, he had no idea. More worryingly the flow of enemy mercenaries wasn’t stopping. For days those carts had been coming into the city laden with soldiers…

“How can we get out of here?” Marcus asked Leo.

Leo was gibbering nothings, his eyes swivelling around his skull. Marcus sighed and slapped him hard with his metal gauntlet. Leo’s face burst open with surprise and scowled at Marcus. How many times had the Prince actually been struck before?

“How do we get out of here?!”

Marcus heard another shout. The Royal Guards at the door were beginning to falter and the mercenaries pushed forward.

“The…The bolt holes.” Leo pointed to a wooden wall to the far side of the throne room. “The wood is thin. You could be able to knock it down.”

The Knights were beginning to falter as the mercenaries unleashed the crossbows mere inches from their bodies. Their armour was not thick enough to shrug them off. The rainbow array of Knights began to falter and the line quickly started to fall thin.

Marcus picked Leo up and waved for Castor to follow him. Leo pointed at a seemingly inconspicuous piece of wood. Marcus handed Leo to Castor and kicked at the door with all his might. The wood splintered and broke. Beyond lay a narrow room. Castor pushed Leo roughly through the opening and followed. Marcus looked behind him. Some Knights were still fighting on, many lay dead, and some were missing. Bernard had disappeared, very difficult for a man of that size. A few Knights, with the Red Salamander Fabrice at the lead, were pushing towards one of the side doors. Marcus saw Noah at the rear of the group of Knights. Perhaps they could escape. But for now, they had to make sure they, and Leo, survived.

The bolthole room was very small, Marcus had to bend over just to fit, but they moved as fast as they could. Castor kept pushing Leo forward through a winding series of tunnels which the Prince appeared to know the correct way. The screams and sounds of conflict quickly died away until it was nothing more than faint and echoing whimpers.

---[]---

Time passed so strangely rushing through the cramped tunnels. The thrill and flight from battle produced a dizzying sensation, muddling his perception of time. When they finally stopped in a large innocuous room all three slumped against the wall to desperately try and catch their breath.

“My Lord,” Castor spoke through short, sharp breaths. “What just happened?”

Castor had fallen back into his younger days when he had to call Marcus a lord.

“My…My mother…” Leo shook his head. “And my brothers…I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything that’s going on.”

“Neither do I.” Marcus used his sword as a crutch. “But we can’t stay in the castle any longer. You all saw how many were pouring in near the end.”

“And those…things.” Castor shook his head. “Why would the Church have those things?”

“We aren’t going to figure those out by wheezing our guts out here.”

“And why did they have to do it to that boy? He survived his father’s death and now he’s…”

Marcus didn’t want to think about it too much either. He remembered Caiden as he was dragged away from his father, never to now that he had been hanged over the city gate, not to be removed until his corpse fell to pieces. But he doubted Caiden would have willingly agreed to this. He must have been captured and made into…one of those things.

“Time to go.” Marcus patted Castor’s shoulder. He begrudgingly rose.

Leo did not. His hands were fastened to his knees and refused to budge. Marcus held the boy’s shoulder tight. Slowly he looked up at him, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Prince Leo. If you want to find out what happened in there we need to keep moving and get out of here alive. Now…How can we get out of the castle without being seen?”

“What will we do then?” Leo asked, his voice quivering like a child.

Marcus smiled. “One thing at a time. Now, what is the best way to get out of the castle without being spotted?”

Leo took several deep breathes. “The best way would be through the servant’s quarters. They…They need to go to the river to get water to wash clothes, and that’s outside the castle itself. The well inside the castle isn’t big enough for that.”

“There’ll be servants…How...” Marcus rubbed his brow. “I want you to be completely honest with me, how well-liked are you amongst the servants?”

Leo scratched his cheeks with blood-stained hands. “I…I think I’m well liked. I’ve slept with a few of the maids.”

Marcus sighed. “And did you break any of their hearts when you moved onto the next?”

Leo shook his head. “No. I still see them often. But I don’t see-”

“Okay. That’ll have to do.”

“What about your armour? They’ll spot that right away.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t want to be caught without it. I don’t think they’ll have started a full search just yet. But we’d better get a move on just in case.”

Leo nodded and led them through another series of small corridors until they reached a normal and open corridor. Marcus leapt back when four guards passed them by. They saw them and smiled before continuing with their patrol.

“That won’t take long to fix,” Marcus whispered when they were gone. “There’s not enough guards inside the castle itself to fight off those hundreds of mercenaries. Now, where do we go?”

Leo pointed in the opposite direction. They ran along the corridor, passing maids, servants and another four guards. The guards behaved like the first, slightly bemused but none were willing going to question the Prince. Not yet, at any rate. Leo slowed when he approached a door surround by several young women. They wore maid attire, a rough but strong material that didn’t stain easily. Most were young women but a few were older, judging by their grouping they were the leaders.

“Prince Leo.” An elder maid bowed her head as they approached. “I’m afraid there isn’t a new maid for you this time.”

Nearly all the maids blushed. Marcus was more than a little impressed at Leo’s ability, even if royalty played a major part in it.

Leo glanced back at Marcus then to the maid. “I’m sorry Anne but we need to get out of the castle. The quietest way you can.”

“What’s wrong?” A deep frown formed on her face, one copied by the other maids.

“I can’t explain. But, you need to promise you to tell everyone that we kept running along the corridor. Promise me!”

Anne nodded and glared at the girls. “If any of you say anything else I’ll skin you myself.”

The girls paled and nodded furiously. Anne opened the small wooden door, looked along the corridors, and ushered them in. The interior was filled with many tubs for cleaning clothes and the smell of a soap filled the air. Anne ushered them through at a blistering pace. Many maids worked but were hushed silent by one harsh snap from Anne. She reached a door on the far side and led them outside. Once outside Marcus smelt the distinctive smell of smoke. He looked up to the castle and saw trails leaking from the upper levels, where the throne room lay. A few faint screams and sounds of battle rang through the air.

“What is happening?” Anne asked quietly.

“Nothing good,” Marcus said.

Anne led them along a pathway, waving the passing maids and servants off the path, before arriving at a small gate that led them through the outer castle wall.

“The river that we collect water from is just on the other side and to the right,” Anne said. “Will that help?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not really, but we need to get some horses so we can leave the capital.”

“What is happening?” Anne begged to know.

“My mother killed the King.” Leo quietly answered. “And my brothers tried to kill me.”

Anne was stunned. She shook her head to recover herself. “I…Okay. There’s a Knight’s barracks a block away from this gate, straight ahead. You’ll be able to get a horse there.”

“Thank you, Anne.” Leo kissed her cheek, Anne flushed deeply.

“You and your girls might need to leave as well,” Marcus said as he moved towards the gate. “Once they find out you helped us…”

“We’ll do what we need to do. You three get out of here before they find you.”

Marcus opened the door and found four surprised soldiers on the other side. They looked him up and down as they lowered their weapons. Leo peered around the door and the guard’s relaxed.

“Sorry, your highness. We weren’t expecting you to come through here.”

Marcus leant down to Leo’s ear. “We might be able to stop this right now if we can get enough men and storm the throne room. There’s not enough inside but there might be enough within the city.”

Leo gulped and nodded. “You four are to come with me right now. No questions.”

The guards glanced at one another but saluted all the same.

“Where is the nearest barracks?” Marcus asked.

A guard looked to Leo who, upon receiving a nod, pointed down the street. “One block down. The other side of the Knight’s stable. Should be about a hundred people there right now.”

“We need to get there right now,” Marcus yelled, pushing Leo forward.

They ran down the street and the four guards looked at the top of the castle. Where they had been standing there wasn’t a way to see and the sounds of city life hid the fighting and screaming. Marcus grabbed one by the shoulder and beckoned them forward. The people they passed looked up at the castle in shock and surprise. Many tried to ask Leo what was happening but they push through the crowds.

The Barracks, sounds of raucous laughter emanating from within, came into view but Marcus raised his hand and brought them to a halt. Marcus pointed to a thin trail of blood trailing into the stable adjacent to the barracks. The stable should have had guards but they were mysteriously absent. And the doors were slightly ajar. Marcus drew his sword, so too did Castor, and they advanced on the stable.

“You bloody giant!” Marcus heard when he neared the door.

He stepped back and slowly opened the door. Three plain-clothed mercenaries lay dead on the floor while one backed towards them, holding a bloody and limp hand.

“Fuck.” The mercenary whimpered before a great-sword cut through him vertically.

As his body split in two Bernard loomed over the corpse. His black armour was stained with blood and several chinks had been cut loose. Deep cuts covered his exposed skin and his breathing appeared quite ragged.

“Good to see you, Marcus.” Bernard lifted his great sword. “I wondered if you got out of there.”

“We found a way.” Marcus didn’t lower his sword. “And how did you get out? You had hundreds of mercenaries in front of you.”

“I carved my way through to one of the open side doors and cut my way through the mercenaries. They weren’t ready for someone like me coming down those passageways.”

A young boy, wearing golden clothing, peered around a large wooden post.

“You saved Noah at least.”

Bernard scoffed when he looked back to the boy. “I suppose. He made the smart decision to follow me. Saved his life.”

“Anyone else make it?”

“I don’t know. There were a lot of them.” Bernard sighed and ushered them inside. He rotated his shoulder and smiled. “Though not as many as before.”

When he saw Leo his face softened. “Thank the gods that you survived.” Bernard tried to straighten up but the wounds had taken its toll. “The Black Riders serve the King. Always. And since the death of your father, and the treason of your mother and brother, that makes you the undisputed King. Our Order is at your disposal.”

“I…I don’t know.” Leo rested a hand on a wooden beam. A horse snorted right next to Leo. He shook his head. “This…”

Castor moved forward and held his shoulder. “I know this is beyond anything you ever thought could happen...But this is what’s happening. And you can’t run from it.” Castor glanced back to Marcus, who nodded and motioned for him to continue. “Since you’re the King now, what do we do? Do we try and fight this right now or do we try and flee the capital and get an army to take it back?”

Leo rested his head on the beam. He sighed and ground his forehead on the wood. “I wish father had actually taught us this sort of stuff. Actually taught us how to be a King…Alright.” Leo took another deep breath. “My father wouldn’t run. Not yet at least. We should get as many city guards as possible and try and take back the main castle. That door we came through is still open and the maids will let us in.”

“As you wish, my King,” Bernard said. “We should rally the guards in the barracks first and have them send messengers out before the enemy can do the same.”

Leo nodded but no made no motion to move from the beam. Castor returned to Marcus’s side and smiled weakly. Marcus patted his shoulder.

“This is going to be a tough fight.” Marcus began. “And we may not survive it.”

“They can’t be allowed to get away murdering the King,” Castor replied.

Marcus patted Leo’s shoulder and gently pushed him out into the street. He knew the look in his eyes, he wouldn’t be much use for the next little while. He could follow orders but his ability to act independently was essentially none. Bernard followed behind.

Marcus turned to see Noah following in Bernard’s shadow. “Noah, can you ready four horses for us?”

Noah nodded. “I can, my lord. I have already received that training from-”

“Be quick about it too.”

Noah nodded and rushed to the horses. Marcus turned his attention to the street outside. The small plumes of smoke rising from the King’s castle had grown and the people outside were growing increasingly concerned. Marcus ignored them and followed Bernard as he knocked loudly on the barrack’s door. The raucous laughter toned down and Bernard stepped back. A city watch guard, wearing chain mail and plate armour underneath his white and green clothing, emerged. He frowned as he looked at Bernard, the blood still fresh and dripping off his armour.

“Who is your commander?” Marcus asked.

The guard saw Marcus’s more obvious Knight Order armour and snapped to attention. “Currently I am, sir. We-”

Marcus bumped Leo’s shoulder. “Commander, I am Leo Qaiviel, first prince of the Qaiviel Kingdom. And now, after the assassination of my father, the King. I need you to get ready to fight right now. Everyone you can muster from every barracks.”

The guard looked Leo over before he nodded furiously. “At once.”

He darted inside the barracks. The laughter stopped and tables and chairs started to groan and move. A few moments later the first city guard emerged, shield and sword in his hands. Nearly a hundred and fifty men followed, mostly with swords and shield but twenty with large and heavy crossbows.

“This is a start but we need more,” Marcus said to the commander. “Send a messenger to every barracks and wherever you have men in the city and rally them here. The King needs you all. Now!”

“Yes, Sir!” The commander shouted to a dozen younger guards and sent them off into the city. The civilians had almost all retreated, correctly guessing that something terrible was happening and didn’t want to be a part of it.

Bernard grumbled and started to arrange the city guard into a proper unit. Their discipline, and even their equipment, left much to be desired. But it would have to do.

Noah shouted from the stable and led four horses, with harnesses but no armour, towards them.

“Forgive me, my lords, but they didn’t have any armour. I made sure the harnesses are fitted properly.”

“Excellent work.” Marcus patted him roughly on the head. Noah didn’t seem to know how to respond. “Quickly, Leo, Bernard, Castor, mount up.”

Castor made sure Leo mounted his horse, he managed without incident, and Castor mounted his. His horse protested a little, the horse was a little smaller than their normal horses and not accustomed to the weight. Bernard didn’t move towards his horse, instead leaning on his great sword.

“Bernard.” Marcus approached and held Bernard’s shoulder. “How badly wounded are you?”

“I’m fine. They’re just flesh wounds. I’ll patch it up when we’re done.”

“You should still get on that horse.”

Marcus pulled him away from the city guard. Bernard appointed the commander to get his men in order and tried to mount the horse. Some of the strength had left him so Marcus had to help him up. When he was on he calmed a little. He grunted thanks as he whipped the reins.

Marcus heaved himself up on his horse and gently stroked its neck. He looked over the odd hundred people gathered before them. He had no hope they would succeed with these few men, especially with those creatures like Caiden, but it was a start.

A city guard, one that had been sent away, ran towards them with another three hundred guards behind him.

“How many more do we need?” Castor asked.

“At least triple,” Marcus replied. “I don’t want to fight one of those things. Better to pelt them with a storm of bolts-”

Tiny flecks of pebbles blasted Marcus’s face. He spat out the fragments and tried to remove the pieces in his eye. He looked down and saw a crossbow bolt embedded in the stone street. He followed the bolt’s direction and the blood drained from his face. A large group of mercenaries and city guards marched down the street towards them from the King’s Castle. The city guard did not look friendly. A quick glance to the right revealed another group of mercenaries and city guard fighting another group of city guards, a group that had responded to Leo’s call to arms. They were outmatched and being slaughtered where they stood. No mercy was given.

“Shit,” Marcus grumbled. “Looks like they’re a bit better organised than I thought.”

And those city guard’s think that we’re in the wrong. If we put Leo out there to stop them one of those mercs is just going to put a bolt in him.

Marcus clicked his tongue when spied someone that looked to be one of the assistants to the King, but he recognised him as one of the priests. The moved very quickly. This whole thing was planned, if not well executed.

“Do we flee?” Castor asked. “We can’t fight that many.”

More bolts started to crash into the stone streets and wood of the buildings. Their city guard raised their shields and turned to face them. The bolts smashed into the metal shields but didn’t penetrate. The crossbowmen fired back, striking a few enemies but were answered with a hailstorm of bolts, killing nearly all their crossbowmen.

“No, we cannot.” Marcus whipped the rein of his horse. “Prince Leo. We need to leave the capital and gather our forces. We will die if we stay any longer.”

“We should head east.” Bernard coughed up some blood. “The Black Riders have their main fortress there. We have thousands of actual soldiers, not like these. Not to mention all the soldiers we’ll be able to rally once word starts to spread of what happened here.”

“What do we do with them?” Castor looked to the city guards with them. They were terrified and completely outnumbered and outmatched. “We can’t just leave them to die.”

“We won’t.” Marcus whistled at the city guards. They looked up at him in worry, their hands covered in the blood of their comrades as they hauled them away from the hailstorm of bolts. “Run! There is nothing more you can do for us. Run and find a way to live. Do whatever it takes. We will return.”

The city guards looked horrified they were being abandoned. Nonetheless they quickly broke and dispersed. Many just dropped their weapons and ran towards the castle, away from the two approaching enemy forces. The commander hesitated before Marcus ordered him directly to go. Noah’s eyes darted between them, his hands scrunched in fear and panic. Marcus leant down and grabbed him but the scruff of his neck and lifted him onto his horse, leaving him lying on his horse. Marcus whistled to Castor, who grabbed Leo’s reins and pulled him along, with Bernard taking up the rear, as they all rode away from approaching forces. Bolts whizzed past their heads, striking the stone street and some of the fleeing guards, one struck Marcus’s back armour but didn’t penetrate through to his skin.

The turned around the corner and missed another barrage of bolts. Marcus shouted at the bewildered civilians standing in the street to move. They only managed to get out of the way at the last second, some even struck by Marcus’s armoured foot. He didn’t care about that, only that they had to get out of the city. The sounds of fighting grew as they raced to the eastern gates, groups of city guards were fighting each other with groups of plain mercenaries fighting alongside certain city guard groups. Their messengers had set off some sort of miniature civil war. At least the sacrifice of the city guards could allow them to escape.

Castor brought his horse next to Marcus. Noah was doing his best to hold on but was starting to fall off. Marcus picked him up and put Noah behind him. The young boy held onto his armour for dear life.

“My Lord. If we’re heading east then we could catch up with Duchess Belinda. Have her get that Grand Mage and his companions. With them on our side this whole thing will be over in a few days at most.”

“Good idea. Make sure that Bernard and Leo keep up. We’ll patch him up as soon as we’re free of the city. I don’t want that monster to bleed out.”

Marcus didn’t want to tell him of what Belinda had lost, but the first part of the plan was still good. Marcus turned to tell Leo but tears streamed down his face, reality was setting finally starting to crush down upon him, while Bernard had slowed to make sure he didn’t fall off despite his wounds. Right now they both had enough trouble riding straight. If they were going to survive they would just have to take it one step at a time. Marcus whipped his reins even harder as they fled the capital with every ounce of strength the beasts could muster.

Chapter 095. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - By the Holy Father!

Chapter 095:

Terill held his hands tight in his lap as he sat upon the ruined remains of Queen Valérie’s chair. It wasn’t particularly comfortable but it was what he deserved right now. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the throne room.

King Lambert remained slumped in his throne, blood trailing off his body and onto the floor. The wound on his neck was very thin, made by a sharp and thin blade. He didn’t see it in Valérie’s hand when she slapped and cut his throat. Valérie stood near the door with Abeau, chatting furiously. She spoke to messengers, wearing the white and green of the Kingdom, and sent them away. Was she spreading lies about what happened? She was in the perfect position to do so and with Abeau at her side she had more than enough authority.

A Knight, wearing green armour, from the Green Vipers, groaned as his battered body tried to move forward. With only his elbows he desperately crawled towards one of the open doors, where several Knights had managed to escape through. Terill knew that he had lost too much blood to make it much further but he wasn’t giving up.

Caiden, one of the three surviving Stitch Soldiers, looked at the movement. His eyes were devoid of emotion as he picked up a discarded sword and plunged it through the back of the Knights’ neck. The Knight shuddered once then collapsed. Caiden removed the blade, inspected the blood, and cast it aside. Terill felt physically Ill to look upon him. And for Abeau to claim they were holy. They were anything but. That whole endeavour was supposed to have been destroyed over twenty winters ago. And yet here they stood.

To his right stood Giles and Harold, deep in conversation, while plain-clothed mercenaries began to remove the bodies and clean up the blood. Neither prince held anything on their faces that even hinted at their treason. Giles even managed a laugh at something while Harold smiled. Never before had Terill thought that something was wrong with any of them, their lack of faith not-withstanding. Lila, the first Princess, had disappeared completely and he had lost sight of her during the initial scuffle. He couldn’t see her corpse amongst the Knights, mercenaries and nobles. The last group he didn’t care much for. They were only sycophants to the queen, to earn her favour by dressing up in the most ridiculous ways possible. For what good it did them.

“This has gone rather well.”

Terill looked up and saw Abeau smiling at him. Right now their eyes were about the same height. Terill had always hated the short little fat man, something about him was off. Something that you could only tell if you spent nearly every day with him.

“Has it?” Terill asked flatly.

Abeau shrugged. “We have the Kingdom now, our Stitch Soldiers have been a tremendous success and we can make many, many more now. What’s to be disappointed about?”

Terill lowered his head into his hands. Something crawled at the back of his neck.

This wasn’t the plan at all. Someone’s been working around me…And Abeau thinks I’m in on it.

“I…I just didn’t think it would be so bloody.” Terill raised his head.

Abeau smiled as warmly as he could manage. “I know. I wasn’t expecting that either. So much blood.” He scrunched his face. “And the smell too…”

A plain clothed mercenary stopped at Abeau’s side. “What do you want to be done with him?” He pointed at the King.

“Well, since she’s Lambert’s husband I thought she should make the final decision.”

Abeau shouted for the Queen. She smiled at him, finished giving her order to a messenger, and scampered across the blood-soaked carpet towards them. Her curvaceous body bounced probably in an alluring way, of that he was certain. She had lowered her top and allowed more of her cleavage to show and allow her slightly flushed body to breathe more. A mercenary stepped in her way. She stopped abruptly, nearly falling forwards before the mercenary caught her. She steadied herself, gave him a seductive wink, and then continued towards them, making every effort to miss the stains of blood, even pulling up her skirt in a very delicate manner.

Terill felt Valérie was nothing but pure evil. What person could kill a person they purported to love so terribly and publically?

“Your Highness.” Abeau bowed to Valérie. “What do you want to be done with King Lambert’s body?”

Regret flashed across her face. Something flickered over her eyes, Terill could only describe it like a flutter of leaves, and her smile returned.

“While I still love him, he…He would not listen. And stood against the will of God. I will pray for his soul and that he will forgive me in the realm hereafter. Especially after he sees what we will make here.”

“We will ensure that he is buried in a prime location in the cemetery.” Abeau bowed his head and waved the mercenaries forward.

They gently handled the king and took his body from the room. Terill dropped his head into his hands once again.

“Whatever is the matter, Terill?” Valérie asked as she knelt before him. “You seem quite upset.”

She reached and gently held his shoulder. Terill, fighting the urge to slap her away or scowl, faintly smiled and patted her hand.

“As I said to Abeau, I was not expecting it to be so violent.” Terill took a deep breath and sat more upright. “So, what happens now?”

Valérie smiled. “Now that Harold is King we can start to fight against the corruption and heresy that has taken root in our Kingdom.”

I’m surrounded by rot and corruption. How did I not see it? Have I becoming blinded to…what did she just say?

“What do you mean, Harold as the King?” Giles asked. His face quickly filled with fury as he approached Valérie. “We were supposed to rule together.”

Valérie smiled and swung her hand at Giles' throat. Terill heard a tiny swish of air and the glint of metal just before blood trailed down from Giles’s throat. His hands desperately clamped at his throat as he collapsed to the ground. Terill recoiled as Valérie smiled while Giles desperately clung to his throat as spasms overtook his body and he gurgled up blood. After a few moments he fell limp at the feet of the throne. Harold chuckled and walked towards the door, summoning mercenaries to his side. They picked up Harold’s corpse like he was a dead pig. His head bounced several times on the blood stained carpet before he was taken outside.

Terill couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. “By all that is Holy, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Everyone stopped at his outburst, the room turning completely silent. “You’ve just killed your husband, the King, and your son. What, I…What?!”

Valérie smiled. “I have never wavered in my faith. And I have done everything the Holy Father has asked of me.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Her face beamed even brighter. “Have you seen the Holy Father yourself? Felt his radiance?”

“No…I never have.”

“I haven’t either.” Valérie clasped her hands beneath her chin. “But one of his angels came to me in a vision while I visited the new cathedral. I will never forget what I saw.”

She looked to the throne still covered in blood. Abeau signalled a mercenary who produced a thick piece of cloth and wiped down the throne clean of blood before laying a fresh piece on the throne. Valérie nodded appreciatively and sat down, reaching out for Terill’s hand, which he reluctantly held.

“It was the last night at the Cathedral. Oh, by the way, Abeau, it looks absolutely divine. It simply radiates in the night sky.”

“Thank you, your highness. We do our best to please the Holy Father.”

“I’m sure that he will be more than pleased with what you have built. Now…During our last night, when I fell asleep, I awoke to a strange dream. But this felt like no dream I had ever been in before. It felt so real. I awoke wearing nothing but my nightgown in a beautiful forest. Something called me towards a light glowing in the distance. I saw deer’s running through the forest, even small fairies fluttering through the trees. Their little childlike faces turned at me and they laughed as they flew effortlessly through the air. Oh, I’ve never heard anything more sweet and innocent.”

Faeries…You are a delusional idiot.

“And then I found her, nestled in a circle of vines with glowing golden flowers.” Valérie chuckled and looked down at her chest. “I must admit that I felt a little inadequate compared to her. She was…huge, there’s no other way to describe it. These high cheekbones and a pointed nose, framed by long flowing golden hair that reached to her waist. Utterly beautiful. She wore a thin white silken dress as she knelt in the circle. She smiled at the small creatures of the forest that played with her but the moment I entered they scattered. I never thought I would see an angel look so disappointed. She waved me into her little circle, I have never been so nervous, and bade me sit.”

Get to the point already you disgusting woman.

“She held my hands and told me that the Holy Father has need of me.” She smiled at Terill and Abeau. “Of all of us. The angel spoke of a corruption, an abomination, growing in the east, where only monsters and beasts should roam. A corruption that threatens the fate of the world.”

“Belinda’s territory?” Abeau asked. “K-Lambert said that she was not a heretic.”

“When I held her hands I knew that she was no heretic,” Valérie replied. “But I believe that the taint may have been there, however faint. But the angel said it was beyond the Accursed Forest. Into the fallen lands of the Kar Kingdom. There something grows and festers. Something that threatens the stability of the world. And we need to destroy it before it’s too late.”

“And that’s why you murdered your husband and your son?”

“She told me that nothing must stand in our way. That things that threaten us must be removed immediately. Even…Even my own son.” Again the leaves flickered and passed over through her eyes. “But I know that he, and my husband, will forgive me once they see what we do.”

This is insane. Utter madness and delusion taken to the utmost extreme.

Before Terill could speak further Harold approached the throne. Valérie smiled and rose from her chair, embracing him tightly. When she parted he saw the bizarre look of love between them, more than parent and child.

“Thank you, mother. I thought that Giles was supposed to fall during the scuffle. That’s what we agreed upon just before coming here. Right?”

Valérie flushed and playfully pushed him away. “I really wasn’t listening. Though I’m surprised that Lambert wasn’t woken up by my screams.”

What?

She tenderly rubbed his cheek as he held her hand. “Though it wouldn’t be for the first time.”

The Fuck!

Harold smiled at Abeau and Terill. “I too had a vision, a few days after mother did. The angel said that what we have together is not wrong as we love each other more than anything in the world. Our love is pure. And sanctified by the Holt Father.”

Sure. Something that accepts incest is clearly the work of the Holy Father.

“When…Forgive me asking, but when did this start?” Terill asked quietly.

Valérie smiled. “Not long ago. Somewhere near the end of spring? Though, looking back, we’ve both had feelings for each other for so long. It’s just that everyone else thinks it’s wrong.”

Harold kissed his mother. “But enough about that. Terill, Abeau, we need help to see the Holy Father’s wishes realised.”

“I have the first step.” Abeau waved a mercenary over. “It is only a single step but an important one to greatness and glory, in the name of the Holy Father.”

Abeau waved Harold to take a seat on the throne. He followed his order as the mercenary handed something to Abeau. It glinted with a golden shine. Abeau raised Lambert’s crown above Harold’s head.

“In the name of the Holy Father, I anoint you, Harold Qaiviel the First, King of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Long may you reign.”

“Long live the king!” the mercenaries cheered. Terill doubted their sincerity.

Harold touched the crown and smiled. “I was the third child. I was never going to inherit the crown. But then the angel said I would…It’s all thanks to her.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Valérie hugged Harold who returned it tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh on her back.

Terill held himself back from shaking his head in disgust, though he wanted to do much more.

Harold patted his mother to stand back up. She smiled and stood by his side. “Now, as King, I ask for your guidance.”

His first look was directed at Terill. Abeau, strangely and thankfully, came to his rescue. “My King. The Church has many more of the Stich Soldiers ready for combat. But…we need some concessions from the crown to fund and manage this army. Concessions that require your signature.”

A priest, one Terill didn’t recognise, stepped forward and produced a fine piece of paper. One side was completely filled with dense writing. Terill caught a glimpse of the words and mentally gasped. He had no idea that Abeau would be so bold, to give the Church complete independence and, in many cases, make them more powerful than the nobles. In almost all situations supplanting them as local rulers and taking their people and taxes for the Church. In one signature the entire Qaiviel Kingdom could be overhauled. Terill should have been excited. An enlightened theocracy led by enlightened people like himself was something that he always dreamed of. But not like this. Such an upheaval would undoubtedly cause a civil war. Certainly with these…people leading it.

Harold barely looked at the document before he signed. Abeau appeared just as shocked as Terill but quickly regained his composure.

“Thank you, most gracious of Kings. We will soon have an army that eclipses anything that the United Kingdom could manage at its zenith.”

“Excellent.” Harold clapped his hands. “And how long will that take?”

“But a few days. We will begin marshalling our forces as soon as possible.”

Harold stood up, trying his best to look regal, though it failed. “Let the first Holy Crusade commence. Let every heretic, be it man, woman or child, feel and fall before the wrath of the Holy Father. The lands of beasts and monsters, the corruption that threatens the world, will fall beneath his righteous light and fury.”

Terill slowly started to panic as he saw the new Kingdom rapidly descend towards the path of war. In his experience, no one benefitted from war. Perhaps he could delay it for a time.

“What about the centaur invasion?” he asked Harold. “Fabrice, the Red Salamander, said that it was going to be quite a dangerous event.”

“The Knight Orders will continue to our borders and our people,” Valérie said flatly.

“Once they find out that their representatives were killed I doubt they’ll be anything but hostile to you. I know that Fabrice managed to escape, as did a few others. Marcus and Bernard for one. I don’t think Bernard’s going to forgive you for killing the King.”

Valérie appeared taken aback. Like she could not understand his words or reasoning.

“The Knight Orders are an important part of the Qaiviel Kingdom.” Abeau smiled. “And we will need them for the coming crusade. We will write letters demanding they pledge loyalty to the new King. Those that do not will be destroyed and their land can be seized by any loyal Knight Order, with the backing of the Church and Royal army.”

You’ll only get the greedy and desperate that way. After what you did I don’t think greed will be enough to assuage their rage. I can only think of one Knight Order that might work with you.

“I suggest that we contact the Golden Roar first.” Abeau continued. “They have suffered greatly under your father’s reign. The chance to reclaim their property will be more than enough of an incentive to work with us.”

Only the truly despicable.

“Do that.” Harold pointed at Abeau. “I appoint you…what would you call your new position?”

“I believe it would be chancellor,” Valérie answered.

“Very well. Cardinal Abeau, I bestow upon you that position and the power it entails. See to it that the First Crusade is properly formed and destroy every enemy of the Holy Father in this realm and beyond. We must make the angel of the Holy Father, which sanctified our love, proud.”

Harold kissed Valérie’s hand. This time even Abeau was deeply concerned. He flashed a look at Terill. One that said that he was in command now. His role as Inquisitor was now lesser than his. Though if he and the other members of the Church had been able to do all this underneath his nose he didn’t deserve the title.

“What about your sister?” Abeau asked.

“What about her? Hopefully, she’ll be found dead soon enough. Our soldiers are searching the castle and have found nothing. And a messenger has just told me that Leo has been spotted fleeing the castle with a few of those missing Knight’s. Those worry me the most.” He leant forward. “Abeau. Those people need to be killed before they can raise an army against us. They had several hundred guards already at their side before they were caught.”

“A worrying development for sure. But I know the city guards did nothing wrong. They would not have known of your vision or ascension to power. I will see that they are spared and compensated for any harm that came to them under Leo’s leadership.”

This is all madness!

“How will you explain this to the people?” Terill asked. “They won’t believe you. Even you must see that.”

Harold nodded seriously, rather than taking Terrill’s words as trying to show him the madness he was undertaking. “We will tell the people that heretics, from beyond the forest, killed the King and everyone else. We barely survived by the grace of the Holy Father. And now we will have our revenge.”

“Which is exactly what happened,” Valérie said adamantly.

Terill didn’t have the strength to disagree. His old body just wanted to rest. Perhaps forever. He needed to get out of this place.

“Your Majesty, Highness and Cardinal Abeau.” Terill pulled himself up from his seat. Valérie moved to help but he willed himself to move faster so she wouldn’t touch him. “Congratulations are in order for your ascension. But I must leave now to continue with my work. I wish you the utmost luck with the Crusade.”

“Thank you Terill.” Valérie held his hands. He forced himself to not shake with disgust or anger. “May the Holy Father bless your way.”

Terill began walking away as fast as he could.

“It’s time that I became reacquainted with my new wife.” Harold deliberately mimicked his dead father. “My Queen.”

Terill stopped dead. His disgust prevented him from taking another step. “You’re keeping your mother…as your queen?”

“Yes.”

Harold and Valérie looked confused while Abeau, his eyes hidden from them, turned to utter contempt towards Terill and the new King and Queen. Perhaps they too were not long for this world.

“I wish you both happiness.”

They smiled and Valérie leant down to kiss Harold like a lover. Terill tore his sight away from the sight, bowed his head and rushed out of the room.

There is no god. Not here. Why would the Holy Father allow such a thing to transpire? Were we wrong from the very beginning?

His growing crisis of faith refused to abate as he neared the door. He glanced back as he passed through to see Abeau summoning a mercenary to his side.

---[]---

Despite being older than Lambert, Terill was still able to move quite fast. Not as fast as one of the mercenaries but fast enough to give them a chase. He scurried as fast as his old and arthritic feet would allow down and through the many winding corridors of the castle.

“This place is insane.” He mumbled to himself. Mercenaries and Royal Guards, already anointed with new crests of the church, allowed his passage and even the Royal Guards bowed their heads as he passed. Word had yet to reach them. Unless that was just paranoia. Well-founded paranoia.

“I need to get out and away…How do I get out of this place?”

Terill continued to wander but heard something gaining behind him. He did not want to know and grew increasingly worried as the sounds grew closer. It was metal striking stone. The same kind metal boots would make.

If they catch me that’s the end. I need to hide.

Hiding had been a big part of his early youth. That was a dark place that he didn’t often venture. Shaking it aside he found an innocuous small wooden door along one of the main corridors. He had no idea what lay on the other side but the sounds were very close now. When he glanced back he saw shadows moving against the wall. He opened the wooden door and disappeared inside. The interior was some sort of massive pantry, filled to the brim with preserved foods and barrels of water. This room alone would provide for many, many winters during a siege.

He waited near the door and heard the metal clanking pass the door by. Had it been paranoia? He didn’t want to find out. His old body couldn’t fight powerful and young mercenaries. The sounds stopped for a moment before they continued moving.

He decided to wait until the count of sixty. Hopefully, that would give them more than enough time to be in a different part of the castle. Just as he was about to open the door he looked back and saw a flicker of movement. The white of an eye tearing itself away from looking directly at him. Something drew him towards it. He had no weapon on his person, not that it would do much good for him, but he approached all the same.

Out of the darkness a body leapt towards him, kicking him back onto the cold hard stone. Stars filled his mind and vision until he felt cold metal placed on his throat. Lila, first princess of Qaiviel, straddled his chest with a short knife pressed to this throat. As he gulped he felt the razor sharp edge upon his skin.

“What did you do to them?” Lila asked, her voice cold and flat.

“I don’t know what happened to them.” Terill squeaked out. “They said it was a vision of an angel that made them do it.”

“Bullshit.” Lila spat at him. “You’ve always wanted to take the throne.”

Honesty might see my throat retain its blood.

“I did,” Terill admitted. “But not like this. I didn’t want your father dead, or your brother.”

“What?!”

“Your…” The blade pressed dangerously hard against his throat. “Your mother did to Giles what she did to your father. But he seemed in on it. I don’t know what’s happening…And how did you manage to escape?”

Lila withdrew her blade slightly but kept it close to his neck. “Behind the throne lies a secret passageway. I took it once the fighting started…So my brothers are dead?”

Terill shook his head. “Just Giles. Harold is the new King, with your mother as his Queen, and Leo has fled the capital.”

“What the fuck?” Lila stood up and moved to the door. “And why are you here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your new position? Licking up my father’s blood?”

“Right now I’m running for my life. I think Abeau wants to kill me.” Terill nodded towards the door. “I think a few of the mercenaries are already looking for me.”

“You got what you deserved then. Either you were a part of it and were betrayed or you were too stupid to see it coming.”

Terill slowly nodded. “Perhaps. Perhaps I got what I deserved. You didn’t speak like this before when I met you. Why now? Were you always like this?”

“It’s not a woman’s place to speak such words.” She grumbled. “So I just stand there, looking dumb and slow so they don’t think anything more of me. That’s how I survived.”

“They didn’t even ask about you until I brought it up.”

Lila shook her head. “I should have known that.” She looked at him, the fearlessness draining from her eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Home. Back to Falkirk. I know that Abeau holds no power in that area. At least I hope he doesn’t. That’s the best plan I’ve got. What about you?”

She looked around the room. “This was as far as I got.”

“Right…Well, I won’t stop you from coming or staying.” He gingerly opened the door and peered out. No one was present in the corridor. “But I’m getting out of the castle.”

Terill stepped out and held the door open. He looked back and Lila was desperately judging whether or not she should follow. After a moment she made her decision and followed. Now out in the light, he realised that she was still wearing her dress, a plain light grey dress with small spatterings of blood. She frowned at him and held the knife close to her dress.

“Do you know where you're going, Terill?”

“No. I just know I need to get away from here. Perhaps one of the servant’s quarter’s that leads outside?”

Lila shook her head and walked down the corridor. Terill didn’t have anything else to go on and following her was the best bet. Lila moved very quickly, fast enough that he had to almost run to keep up. She didn’t bother to check if he was following.

She reached a corner of the corridor and stopped. Terill slowed and stood just behind her as he looked around the corner over her head. A maid, carrying a large bundle of cloth, slowly walked towards them along an empty corridor.

“Do you know her?” Terill asked.

Lila shook her head. “No. I’ve never seen her before. I don’t know any of them. But I wonder if she knows?”

“I don’t know. The mercenaries might have told them to keep an eye out for you but probably not for me.” Terill took a deep breath. “I’ll go first and see what happens.”

Lila nodded and Terill moved around the corner. The maid saw him and smiled warmly and said nothing. Terill returned the smile and nodded, just as her face turned to unbridled shock. Lila emerged from behind with the knife in her hand. The maid didn’t have a look of confusion from the princess carrying a blade, but rather shock at her sheer presence. She dropped the bundle of cloth and looked along the corridor for someone, but she was alone.

“Don’t move or say a word,” Lila spoke coldly and softly.

The maid hesitated to turn and run. Lila took advantage of her hesitation, stepped forward and grabbed her by the throat. The maid stopped dead when she felt the cold iron placed upon her throat.

“Why are you running?”

The maid gulped. “They told me you that you are wanted by the King. For treason. That you tried to kill your father.” Her face turned to disgust. “How could you do that? To your own father? Is nothing sacred to you?”

“That wasn’t me,” Lila said.

She looked at Terill but the maid reached for the knife. Lila wrestled for the blade. Terill tried to intervene but he was not fast enough. The maid tried to throw the knife to the ground but Lila held on. The maid jerked her hands down further but lost her balance when she overreached and lost her balance. Lila grunted and tried to pull away, the maid started to fall onto her, before she wrenched the blade up. And into the maid’s throat.

Lila gasped as the blade slowly slid free of the maid’s throat. Warm blood sputtered from the wound and covered her face and hands, staining her grey dress. The maid’s hand released Lila’s and both clasped at her blood-drenched throat. Terill winced and looked away as the maid collapsed onto the floor and fell limp. The blood pooled into the grooves of the stone floor and stained the bundles of cloth scattered across the floor.

Lila stood motionless, staring at her bloodstained hands. The knife tumbled loose and clanged onto the floor.

She looked up at Terill as tears welled in her eyes. “I…I killed someone! I didn’t mean to hurt her! I just…”

She was on the verge of bursting into tears and sobs. That would certainly bring the whole castle down upon them. He held her hands, they were so soft and warm on his own. And sticky with blood.

“What you did was in self-defence. No one, not even the Holy Father, will judge you for that.”

It felt wrong to evoke his name but Lila calmed a little.

“Are you okay to walk on your own?”

Lila wiped away the tears and nodded furiously. Now she was a strange mix of confidence about to be consumed by terror.

“If they catch us we’re dead,” Terill said. “Especially after this.”

“So don’t let them catch us.”

“So you do know a way out?”

Lila nodded. “There are many ways in and out of the castle. I know one that leads outside the city wall. Only I and Harold know of it.” A brief childhood memory flickered over her eyes. She pursed her lips and forced the memory down. “So I don’t think they’ll known about it. We take that and then we’re safe.”

Terill knew that wasn’t true. It would be a long ride to Falkirk, even on horseback. And they had no money nor the time to get any. Nevertheless, it was better than being executed. He followed after Lila as she ran along the corridor, constantly glancing back to make sure that he kept pace.

A Brief Reflection (Not a cancellation)

Hello.

This isn't a cancellation, just a bit of a mild update and self-rant.

The interlude chapters. I get that the last one was the figurative straw on the camel's back. I feel that way even when uploading it. Which should have been a good indication that it wasn't the right thing to do. I'm glad that most people's opinion was that it was a good chapter, just with bad placement. Doubly so since it's been so long since a chapter with Anton & Co. So, I've been thinking about it and the final draft will have the three Qaiviel chapters here, Ivano and Janet when Anton & Co are done with Seocuria and Sally and Surdon probably during a lull when dealing with the Qiaviel Kingdom.

Next thing.

Life has become extremely busy and tiring and it'll continue for some time. That being said I, as ever, will continue to write and work as best I can. As you can already tell I'm not the fastest writer and I can easily get distracted playing a game or watching a movie. I've been looking back at how much I could have gotten done and it's quite shocking. Almost annoyingly so. It can be quite difficult to put them down when they're just a click away.

That being said the next 7 chapters are done. They still need editing and work but they're mostly written and it is following Anton & Co. Any further interludes will be thought out and planned a lot better than this previous batch.

On the subject of chapters, and thinking more about the whole interlude thing, I've told myself to rein it in when it comes to some of my more derpier moments. There's a chapter that's only purpose is to justify itself. Well, it alludes to something that's going to be about another hundred or so chapters away and everyone, including myself, will certainly have forgotten it. Appart from a little world building it really doesn't add anything to the story. And it's very hammy and like it's trying to hit you over the head with an idea. Which brings the chapters down to six but I think quality is important.

That's about it for this little rant. Hopefully, they won't be too common but I felt I needed to do this to clear up anything from that overly long interlude saga.

So, I can't promise when the next chapter will be. I just can't but I hope it's soon.

Thanks for taking your time and reading.

Chapter 96. Vol 3 - A Moment to Sit

Chapter 96:

Anton groaned, rotated his shoulder and felt something click. Sleep had not been that comfortable, even with two warm and soft women to share the bed, as the Inn’s bed appeared to be made from rocks and thin branches. Still, it was better than sleeping outside. Just. Their sleeping gear was actually pretty good especially with furs lining the inside. However, the Inn’s food had been very good, which was a little strange.

Regardless, he was in high spirits, all things considered. Their plan was going very well. They had a ship, The Snowberry, and a destination in Graterious, Rusaddir. Then it was a simple trip north to Danafra and rescue Kal’s mother and begin rescuing and freeing Beast-kin. Simple.

While he, Verona and Kal were doing well, their new companion, Cetina, was not. During their brief travels so far she had been very quiet, not something that Anton begrudged considering that she had just witnessed her father’s brutal death and funeral. She had not broken down into tears just yet but she looked distant and lost. He hoped that she would find something that would give her purpose once again beyond travelling with them.

Anton looked back, just to make sure that she hadn’t fallen too far behind or wandered off, and saw her scratching at the bandage covering her wounded eye. During their fight with the Demons, she suffered a grievous wound to her face, one that Anton, despite his or Kal’s powers, was unable to fix. The cloth bandage was just something temporary and to avoid the stares of the curious.

She caught his look and smiled weakly. “My eye’s itching a little, that’s all.”

“Is it the wound or the cloth?” Anton asked.

Verona looked towards him, raising a brow, while Kal turned her masked face to both of them.

Cetina shrugged. “The cloth. I…I can’t feel anything in my eye, just my skin’s really rough and so is this cloth. It’s getting itchy.”

“It was just a quick fix.” Verona smiled back. “I’m sure we can get something better.” She looked at Anton. “Right?”

“Sure. I don’t know who would sell something like that. Maybe we’ll have to make one.”

Anton looked behind Cetina. The city, whose name he didn’t manage to get, behind them was almost out of sight. While it wasn’t the size of Porswea there was undoubtedly someone who could make such a thing. None were particularly short of money, especially Cetina. She had a large bag, sealed by prayer magic that only she could open it, filled with jewels and gold. It was one of the few things that she had left from her father. Then there was the small Gliyrhil box bouncing near his leg…

“Anton?” Kal gently tapped his hand.

He realised that he had mentally drifted away again, even Cetina looked a little oddly at him. A slight flush came over his face as he patted Kal’s hand.

“Sorry. Just zoned out there for a moment there, Kal.” Kal chuckled and looked forward. “How far is it to the nearest city?”

“Should be another one pretty close.” Verona pointed in the distance. A small forest straddled the stone road, but beyond that a few thin trails of smoke rose into the air.

Kal sniffed at the air behind her mask, a strange sound from the rushing air. “I smell curing leather. Smells awful. Can’t you smell it?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll get something there.” Anton looked between Verona and Kal. “Do you know what sort of leather would be good for an eyepatch?”

“Something that’s soft?” Verona smiled and chuckled. “Something that’s not going to irritate the skin.”

“Yes…I guess I walked into that one.” Anton turned to Cetina and saw her sliding off her horse.

He pulled hard on the reins and his horse snarled violently as it stopped. Cetina, looking far away, realised that she had almost reached the point of no return. She pulled hard on the reins, her much larger horse complaining loudly as the reins pulled hard to one side. The horse, despite protesting, followed Cetina’s instructions and veered off the road and onto the grass. Anton turned his horse around and raced to Cetina’s side as Verona and Kal pulled off the road.

Cetina regained control of herself and her horse when Anton reached her.

“You okay?” Anton asked.

Cetina looked away but nodded. “I’m fine. I…I just slipped a bit.”

Eventually, she looked towards him. Her unbandaged eye was slightly red. And not from tears. Seeing the glassy alcohol-induced haze covering her grey and purple flecked eye brought back a scratchy memory, one that he pushed deep down.

“How much?”

Cetina’s head snapped towards him. She looked like she was about to slip off once more. “I…I don’t.”

“How much?”

“I haven’t had anything!” She snapped at him. Cetina grumbled and whipped at the reins. The horse slowly backed up and re-joined the road as Verona and Kal reached them.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She grumbled as she continued along the road. Anton said nothing as he watched her hand brush against a flask at her hip.

“What was that about?” Verona asked.

Anton sighed and returned to the road. “She’s been drinking. Quite a lot.”

“I didn’t see her during dinner.”

“She did leave for a while,” Kal said quietly, her mask looking towards Cetina’s back. “You and Verona were eating like a swarm of locusts. So I’m not surprised you didn’t know.”

“Were we?” Anton and Verona glanced at each other.

“I don’t remember that,” Anton said.

Kal shrugged. “You were eating a lot. While I…I had to eat cold food in our room.”

Anton reached over and squeezed her hand. Kal returned it.

“I still hate that we have to do that. But, does…” Anton looked behind them. There were a few traders and other travellers along the road but they were well out of earshot. “But does Seocuria have locusts? I haven’t seen any grasshoppers here, and Seocuria sounds like it’s a pretty dry place.”

“It is. And locusts are a big problem. Especially when they fly in a swarm. Trying to fight them off the plantations when a swarm comes along…” Kal scratched at her arms. “They hurt when they crash into you, and it gets into your fur when you’re trying to kill them.”

“No insect repellent in this world then.”

“I hate to interrupt your lovely little chat.” Verona nodded towards Cetina, who they slowly gained upon. She was still having a little trouble remaining upright on her horse. She furiously shook her head and gripped tightly with her legs onto her horse’s chest. “But what are we going to do about her?”

“It doesn’t feel right to abandon her and just leave her to her own devices,” Anton replied. “I really don’t know what to do. But we need to do something before it becomes a dependence. Any ideas?”

Kal shook her head. “In Seocuria we didn’t have the chance to drink. We wouldn’t be productive if we did. Except for the few times some of the braver Beast-kin snuck some from the masters. And got beaten for it. But you’re right, we can’t just do nothing.”

“Yeah.”

Cetina shook her head and nearly fell off again.

“When we stop we’ll try and have a chat. Though, I can understand why she’d turn to drink to forget. She’d already started using it when we were heading to Fort Acidava.”

Verona grunted in agreement. “That she did.”

Anton whipped the reins of his horse to speed up. Cetina didn’t slow but she looked at him. It was an odd expression, a mixture of guilt and self-loathing. Anton said nothing, didn’t even smile and looked towards their destination. Out of his periphery, he saw Cetina visibly relax. She didn’t need someone like him doing a shitty job of lecturing her on her actions.

The next city came into view nearly half an hour later. The people of Graterious were well and truly awake and working. The roads weren’t exactly full but there were lots of people going about their business. It was a little different than when they were approaching Porswea. These had less timber and game-related goods and instead carried more crops and fruits. They passed a few large convoys of cows and Ix heading towards the city, all under heavy guard. They eyed everyone passing by.

I wonder if cattle rustlers are a thing here.

He didn’t ask, for obvious reasons, and they moved towards the city. It was nowhere near as large as Porswea but still was a major city. They passed through the gates unmolested, the guards were very slack here compared to Porswea and pulled off to the side.

“What are we getting here?” Cetina asked, her exposed eye blinking hard.

“An eyepatch for you.” Cetina raised a brow. “That cloth makes you look like you’re wounded.”

“I am wounded.” Cetina looked away, sadness filling her remaining eye.

“Not…Not like that.” Anton coughed loudly. “But you need something that won’t keep irritating your skin. You can’t spend all your time scratching your face.”

“Okay.” Cetina didn’t appear too enthusiastic about it.

“I can work the leather if that’s a problem,” Kal said. “If it doesn’t fit properly. I’ve had to before.”

“Let’s see what we can find first.”

After asking a guard, who was rather rude until Verona snapped at him, they received directions to a leatherworker. The city streets felt like they were back in Porswea. People jostled and barged through the chaotic streams of traffic, shouts and cries to buy from market stalls pierced through the bubbling noise of human activity. They kept Kal in the middle while Cetina followed closely behind. Her horse was much larger than theirs, and most peoples that they passed, and used its size to push away anyone that got too close. Cetina didn’t appear to worry one way or another.

Finding the leatherworker wasn’t too difficult. The smell alone would have been enough to guide them. Nearly a tenth of the city was sealed off by a small wooden wall. Through the gaps, Anton saw the slaughterhouses behind and carcases being drained of blood and excess fat removed. Blood and fat mixed with the dirt and stone, hundreds of flies buzzed around the horrid scene. Certainly not somewhere hygienic or healthy. It reminded him that everything they wore once belonged to a living creature. He had no problem with eating meat but actually slaughtering the creature, if it was something larger than a rabbit or a fish, made him feel a little ill. Thankfully the men and women behind the wall didn’t have the problem. Their faces were flat as they moved the pieces of meat and hide about.

The store, such as it was, jutted out from the wooden wall. Since literacy wasn’t well spread amongst the peasant's large wooden sign hung over the front. It was a little hard to tell what it was meant to be depicting, a rough piece of cloth or a ream of leather perhaps, but it appeared to be enough for the people. Men and women, a lot of women, were coming and going with bungles of leather in their arms. What interested Anton the most was the colours on display. Different shades of blues, blacks, purples, reds and yellows came out in the protective arms of their customers.

“We’ll be able to get something really nice for you,” Anton said. “Something a bit fancier that just brown leather.”

Cetina grunted but said nothing else. Anton looked to Verona, who shot him an awkward smile. It would be difficult to get excited about an eye patch the day after your father died. Nonetheless, she followed them as they stopped at the shop. There was a long post to tie horses to but it was mostly empty. To the side stood some large carts pulled by horses and Ix. They were laden with reams of processed leather.

As they tied their horses to the post Cetina spoke up. “I’ll watch the horses while you three head inside.”

“You sure?” Verona asked.

“Yeah. I think I need some sun right now. A moment to relax, you know?”

“Okay. We won’t be long.”

Cetina waved them in and started patting down her horse.

The interior smelled considerably better than outside, thanks to burning incense from every corner of the building. While there were no reams of processed leather on display there were small strips proudly showcasing what was available for purchase. Thieves must be a constant threat.

“How much do we need?” Anton asked Kal. Kal groaned and tried to pinch her nose. “Just try to breathe through your mouth. That should make it a bit easier to deal with it.”

“But I still smell it, so much worse than you two.” Kal sighed. “And then it just gets stuck in my mouth for ages. Disgusting.”

“I know a way to get rid of that.” Verona smiled wickedly.

“What…Oh.” Kal sighed. “You’re being yourself, aren’t you?”

Verona laughed. “True. True. We can worry about that later. So…” She bumped Anton as she continued to smirk. “Since you were the one pushing for this what sort of colour were you thinking of?”

Anton looked at the strips of coloured leather. “I’m thinking something that matches her…colours. A mix of black, blue and purple. Something that’s not going to immediately draw attention to her eye. I’m still annoyed that we couldn’t fix it.”

“There might be something else we can do. At least you two should be able to do something, not me though…” Verona trailed off.

Anton found someone organising the sales. He wasn’t that interested in selling to them as they only wanted a small amount but when Anton gave him a silver ring and told him to keep the change, he immediately changed his tune. He gave them three large pieces of leather in the colours they wanted and wished them a good day, unfortunately bringing up the name of the Holy Father. That disturbed Anton a little. Nonetheless, Kal said she would be able to make something when they were away from the city. She wasn’t having a fun time with the smell and the hustle and bustle of the city.

“Umm…” Kal stopped as she reached the doorway. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

Kal, with a ream of black Ix leather in her arms, pointed towards the horses. While all four horses stood idly at the posts their guard had disappeared. Thankfully no one had tried something but Cetina’s disappearance worried him. However, he saw her a few meters away, returning with a faint smile on her face. Anton looked at her hip and saw a few more large water skins. She looked up and smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry.” She said as she approached the horses. “I just had to get something.”

“You just left the horses…” Verona patted the large pack on the side of Cetina’s horse. “Even with this?”

“I could always see it. I was just over there.” Cetina nodded just behind her.

She nodded to a large open market stall, more like a bar. Many workers ate and drank at the open bar, food, drink and laughter flowing from the open bar. It seemed to be workers having a midday break.

“You get what you wanted?” Anton asked.

Cetina tensed, her hand instinctively reaching for her hip. She looked more than a little embarrassed but forced a smile.

“Of course.”

Anton said nothing and took the reams of leather from Kal and Verona. “Unless we’ve got something else to do here we should get going then.”

The girls nodded and they were soon on their way once again.

---[]---

They stopped a few miles from the city next to a small lake, more a very large pond. Other travellers had stopped here as well, refilling their water and letting their beasts, and themselves, take a short break. Many were smaller traders, either a single Ix or horse laden with goods or a very small and rickety hand drawn cart. Others looked to be labourers travelling from one city to another and deciding to take a break. All were grouped around large wooden stakes driven far into the ground. It appeared to be an unofficial arrangement established between the travellers. Anton found an upright stake as far away as possible from the others and tied the reins of their horses to it. They rummaged through their packs for something to eat while Kal started to make the eyepatch. While she didn’t have scissors she had Zig’s very sharp blade which easily cut through the leather. He sat next to her while Verona and Cetina collected more water.

Kal, her expression hidden by the mask, glanced up at him several times. She sighed as she finished cutting a piece of the black leather to form the base of the eyepatch.

“It’s a bit hard to do this when you’re watching me like that.” Kal chuckled. “Kind of like you are judging me…”

“I’m always shocked by what you can do,” Anton said. “I think we should just write down everything you can do one day so I won’t be surprised. And you can write too.”

He looked at the edge of the lake. Verona and Cetina had refilled their water but were chatting quietly. Again he saw Cetina’s hand idly brush against the flasks on her hip.

“I don’t think Verona can yet.”

“I needed to learn.” Kal took the dark purple hide and began cutting it. “It helped me quite a number of times.”

“Especially when most people here can’t read. Or write.”

Kal nodded and continued to work. He had no idea what she was going to do but he simply wanted to watch.

I suppose it could be possible to use the prayer power to just make one. But would it fall apart once it touched the Ghlyirl near her eye? What about that spoon that I made? We still have it here, though I can’t just try and touch her eye with it. Maybe there’s some way for the prayer power for her to see with both eyes again…

Anton looked at his hands while he thought, Kal occasionally glancing towards him when Verona let out a tremendous laugh and walked towards them with Cetina in tow.

“How’s it going?” Verona asked, placing the water skin between him and Kal and resting against his shoulder.

“Kal’s doing really good.” He saw her backside wiggle ever so slightly underneath her cloak. Thankfully the other groups of travellers were keeping to themselves as well. “She’ll have it done in no time. She’s still hiding a lot of skills up in there. Probably enough to fund everything we do.”

“Please stop,” Kal grumbled playfully. “Now you’re just trying to make me embarrassed.”

Anton squeezed Kal’s shoulder then turned to Verona. “What about you two?”

Verona looked at Cetina. “Done…We were just collecting water, after all.”

“How about something to eat?” Anton looked through the small pack at his side. “We’ve got some of that salted beef and Ix meat, and some good bread.”

“Awesome.” Verona bounced excitedly as Anton retrieved the food. When Verona had her share, which she quickly devoured, he looked to Cetina. “You want some?”

“Um…Sure.” He handed the food over. She took it with some hesitation and looked at Kal. “What about you?”

“I can’t eat here,” Kal said quietly. “It’ll have to be on the road. When we’re alone.”

“That…” Cetina trailed off and nibbled at her food. She shuffled away when she saw Verona eyeing it off with the eyes of a ravenous dog.

I know where all that food’s going and it’s not to her waist.

They ate in silence with only the sound of Kal cutting and working the leather to fill the void. The sounds of the other travellers were barely heard over the trickling of the water entering the small lake. When Cetina was done, and after Verona helped herself to another small portion, she reached for and drank a whole water flask in one go. She scrunched her face and shook her head.

Well, we can’t let this go on forever...

“Cetina?”

She looked up at him and then to the bottle.

“What’s in that?”

She didn’t answer and looked down at the empty flask. Dark purple droplets ran to the bottom of the lip.

“I...” she looked down and didn’t speak. “It helps. It helps…my dreams. Even before…”

Kal and Verona looked at him. Anton took a deep breath. He had no idea what to say, but he had brought the issue up, so it was his responsibility to see it through right now.

Just speak from the heart, I suppose. But don’t be preachy about it either.

“I…I mean we, are a little worried by what we’re seeing. You nearly fell off your horse before and I know that you weren’t sober before we entered the city or even when we left.”

Cetina kept her head low.

“We just don’t want to see you turn to drink to drown your sorrows.”

“I don’t need someone to tell me what to do.” Cetina quietly said, still refusing to raise her head.

“No…But you have people that don’t want to see you fall apart and find you drunk in some ditch.” Anton sighed. It wasn’t the best words but it was the ones he was going with.

“Do you know what it’s like?” She looked up, her eye red and slightly puffy. “To keep seeing those things in your mind? I thought, I thought I would be fine after the funeral but I keep reliving it. I’ve barely slept and even that’s short and terrible. I keep seeing the blood pouring off the bed, the red sheets…What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know.” Anton took a deep breath. “I don’t know what the answer is, or if there even is one. But I do know that drinking to the extent that you nearly fall off a horse going straight isn’t the answer. I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.”

“But…” Cetina shook her head and looked down at the flask again.

“It was terrible for me when my parents died.” Verona began, turning to rest her back on Anton’s shoulder. “I…I watched my parents die, crushed and burning while I could only watch on. Helpless. That…Those weren’t good times.”

Cetina looked up. “So how did you…Get over it?”

Verona shrugged. “I didn’t. And I know that it isn’t something you just get over. I certainly didn’t. I spent days curled up in a ball underneath a table just crying. But, eventually, I realised that I was just going to die if I stayed like I was. It was difficult, and I know if I had alcohol I would have taken it, but I eventually found a way to continue with my life.”

She reached and patted his leg.

Cetina frowned. “So, you’re saying that I need to find someone to share a bed with?”

Anton smiled. “No. That won’t help. Not that way at least. What you need is a friend. Someone you can talk to no matter what you have to say.

“And you have three of them right here,” Verona added.

Cetina looked between them and then at her flask. “I…I suppose so. I’ll give it a try.”

“We’ll be there for you if you ever stumble,” Anton said quietly.

Cetina faintly smiled and unhooked the flasks. She sighed as she looked at them, her body desperately telling her to keep them. She scrunched her face and threw them far away.

Anton leant down to Verona’s ear. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Verona kissed his cheek. “Sometimes there are things that a woman can say that a man can’t.”

She kissed him again as Cetina closed her eye and took a deep breath. She slapped her armoured thighs repeatedly. “Okay…Actually, I feel a bit better now. Is it supposed to feel like that?”

“I don’t know,” Anton said. “But don’t get me wrong about this. You can still drink. We just don’t want you to overdo it.”

Cetina groaned as she looked at the flasks some meters away. “They were expensive too.”

“How strong was it?” Anton asked. “It looked like you just had straight alcohol.”

“I don’t know what it’s called but it was the strongest they had.” Cetina obviously was contemplating fetching the flasks before someone stumbled upon it. “There was this other stuff they offered, I think it was called Blue Devil, or something. It smelt pretty strong.”

“That reminds me, we haven’t heard anything from Duchess Belinda for a while.” While Cetina didn’t know how far they had actually travelled there seemed little harm in her knowing some names. “I hope everything’s alright over there.”

“We-”

“Finished!” Kal loudly proclaimed, silencing Verona. Kal immediately realised what happened and coughed awkwardly.

“Sorry. I got a bit distracted. It was actually quite fun to make this. It…This isn’t going to be like something an artisan would make but it’s all I can do without proper tools and a night to work on it.” Kal bundled the completed eyepatch in her hands. “When we do stop for the night I’d like to keep working on it.”

“Now you’re just making me feel insecure.” Verona chuckled.

Kal sighed and passed over the eyepatch. It was rough, there was no way around it, but it had been made well. The patch itself was a simple black section, and so was the strap that would go around her head. However, Kal had managed to weave a purple border around the black segment, with thin strips of blue leather binding it all together. Anton was very impressed by her work, especially in such a short time.

Kal caught his look. “It’s just something I’ve learned. Though it’s normally with cloth and not leather.”

“Don’t put your achievements down.” Anton squeezed her leg.

Kal nodded and looked at Cetina. She too looked impressed as she looked at Kal. “Thank you. Um…How, can I have some help putting it on? I don’t know if the straps too long.”

“Give me a moment.” Verona patted Anton and moved behind Cetina.

Cetina wore her metal helm, badly dented during their fight with the Demon creature, but still intact. News of the creatures had spread but it had become lost in a mixture of disbelief and embellishment, Anton had overhead one person saying there were fifty Demons attacking at once, and the news of the Strega Witches. They continued to worry him. They had no way to know when they would strike or if anything could be done to fight their strange magic. Cetina had been right next to them for almost a year and had no idea. He didn’t either until they started to fight. He made a mental note to prepare some magical protection when they stopped for the night.

Verona lifted the helm off, exposing Cetina’s black hair with the distinctive blue patches and removed the ribbon of cloth. The damaged skin around her eye still showed the obvious signs of burn damage while the eye itself had was completely white. He could just make out the faint line of her iris when her eye moved but only when he stared intently. And that was something Cetina did not want. He looked away as Verona adjusted the strap so the eyepatch wouldn’t fall off. When she was done Cetina looked more like a warrior than a wounded woman. Verona returned to his side while Cetina fidgeted with it to make it more comfortable.

“It’s really good. But…” Cetina looked a little embarrassed to speak further. “When we stop for the night can I get you to make a few changes? Not that it’s bad, or anything, just that it’s a little rough in places.”

Kal nodded, he was sure she was smiling, before her head jerked to one side and then to the other. She gripped his leg hard and rose to her knees. Their horses were fine but the Ix, of the other travellers, were behaving oddly. They were snorting loudly and looking quite afraid.

“Get your weapons,” Anton said, not that he needed to. “What can you smell?”

Kal pried her mask forward from the base and allowed more air to pass underneath. She took several more deep sniffs before letting go. “Rotting meat and shit. And old mud.”

Anton looked to the other travellers. They were only just starting to realise something was amiss. Upon seeing them recover their weapons, Cetina’s bent tower shield couldn’t be missed, they too reached for their weapons.

“Ghlotsm,” Anton said to the travellers. That got their attention.

He leant down to Kal as she knocked a lightning arrow. “Which way?”

She nodded across the small lake. On the other side, he saw movement amongst the bushes. Small grey creatures, barely a meter tall, moved towards them, skulking low through the small bushes and short grass but not well enough to be completely concealed. Though a good number of them were weaving in and out of the bushes Anton guessed there were no more than a hundred of the creatures.

“Everyone move together,” Anton said.

Again his words seemed a little superfluous as the other travellers had started to band together. They unbound the horse’s reins and moved them towards the centre of the travellers. A few decided to flee, those lucky few with horses for themselves, but everyone had little choice but to stand and fight. The travellers next to them, with faces covered in dirt and grime, now streaking with the sweat from fear, looked at them like they were crazy. Who would willingly fight such things? Especially when they had the chance to flee.

Anton looked at the weapons their fellow travellers had to face the Ghlotsm and felt a pang of unease. It was nothing like the combined forces of the Bebbezarian merchants and the Bandit Hunters. They only had short rusted blades, a few knives and building equipment to fend off the small, fast and deadly creatures. Anton thanked his gods once again that he was not defenceless.

Verona subtly took a small portion of blood, just in case, while Kal readied to release her first arrow. Cetina stood in front with her bent tower shield. While it had taken a beating from the Demon’s attack it still functioned as a shield, a very good one at that.

The horses and Ix started snarling and stomping the ground as the Ghlotsm reached the edge of the forest. About thirty meters lay between them, open grassland peppered with large wooden stakes. The whole situation felt eerily similar. Anton saw Cetina glance back at him. Her eye was still slightly red and glazed from the alcohol. He touched her shoulder, she glanced back but didn’t recoil or even frown.

Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, remove the alcohol coursing through Cetina’s body.

Mana left him and flowed into Cetina. Again it took more than it should have, overall it wasn’t that much, but it appeared to work. The redness in her eyes faded and became clearer, more focused. She slowly nodded, held back a grimace, and readied her sword to fight.

Kal lowered her bow and tugged on Anton’s sleeve. “What are we going to do?”

Verona nodded to him as well. Anton looked at the other travellers. “I don’t want any of their blood on our hands. We’ll take them out as quickly as we can and then get out of here before they start asking too many questions.”

“What did you say?” A terrified traveller looked at him.

Anton shook his head. “Nothing. We’re going to fight these things together.”

A shriek from the forest drew all of their attention. The first Ghlotsm broke from the forest and ran straight towards them, its razor-like claws swiping at the air. It moved extraordinarily quickly. Anton saw the fear in the eyes of the travellers as more and more Ghlotsm leapt from the bushes.

Kal loosed her first arrow, a lightning arrow, and struck the first Ghlotsm. The wretched creature burst into lightning, the blast large enough to shock and strike those around it. However, the Ghlotsm managed to stumble forward a few paces before falling over, the arrowhead sticking out the chest of the horrid creature. These had the magical inhibition as well.

The travellers looked shocked at Kal, their attention drawn to her white and green mask. They had little time to gawk as the remaining Ghlotsm raced to continue their attack. Those wounded by the flash of lightning continued forward, in whatever broken and wounded state they were reduced to.

“Waste of good arrows,” Kal muttered. She pulled out a normal arrow and fired at a Ghlotsm head, killing it instantly.

Verona sighed and glowed red, drawing up the small shards of red over her head and flung them forward as Anton threw forth a dozen small fireballs. The Ghlotsm stopped and their white eyes widened as they saw what was coming for them. The attacks slammed into the front of the wave of Ghlotsm. The fire lit the skin of the Ghlotsm and they writhed on the ground, the blood shards pierced and cut through their bodies.

The Ghlotsm continued their charge but there were only a few left, the fire magic proved to more effective than the lightning Anton used last time. Anton released another wave of fireballs and burned another wave while Verona retrieved her blood shards. A burning Ghlotsm leapt through the flames, its skin and fat melting together, and swung its claws at them. Cetina stepped forward and took the charge with her large tower shield. The Ghlotsm broke and crumpled against the shield before slumping down to the ground. Cetina stabbed the broken Ghlotsm with her sword while keeping her attention towards the flames.

A few more Ghlotsm charged through the flames but they were already badly wounded. Cetina, and a few of the braver travellers stepped forward and killed them before retreating back to the group. Anton threw a few more fireballs into the flames before he waited for any movement. He could only hear the sound of burning grass and roasting bodies, the disgusting smell crawling its way up his nose.

The fire quickly died down and the carnage was revealed. While the lightning had done considerable damage in the previous attack the fire had done much worse.

Their purple flesh grants them some immunity from the lightning and fire and allowed them to survive the lightning blasts but not the prolonged heat from the fire, even though it was probably being diminished. Interesting...We’ll need more tests on that purple flesh.

“Is…Is that it?” A traveller asked.

Anton could see the looks of shock and relief spreading amongst the travellers. Anton couldn’t see any more Ghlotsm in the bushes, last time they attacked at once without any retreating, so he guessed they were gone.

“Time to go.” Anton quietly said.

The girls agreed and pulled their horses away from the group.

“Hey!” A traveller reached out to stop them but held back when Verona gave them a death glare as his hand nearly touched her shoulder. “Er…Thank you. Who are you? Do you work for Lord Cassius?”

“No,” Anton replied. “Just consider it lucky that we were here.”

Anton hopped onto the horse alongside the others. “I would suggest getting out of here, just in case there are any more of them lurking about. Is there someone that you can contact?”

Anton’s bluntness stopped further questions.

“Yes…” the man replied. “We’ll speak with the local governor. But-”

“You should do that.” Anton whipped the reins of his horse. “Now get out of here before anything comes to check out the sound. For better or for worse. Good luck.”

Verona waved while Kal and Cetina only looked forward.

“The Holy Father sent them to save us!” Anton heard from someone. He didn’t look back and whipped the reins a little harder even as the cries were repeated.

“So how many more stops are there before we arrive at Rusaddir?” Verona asked.

“A lot.” Anton sighed. He looked back, many of the travellers were looking towards them, seemingly too afraid to move just yet. “I thought that the Church of the Holy Father didn’t have much sway in Graterious.”

“They do in the north,” Cetina said quietly. “Not so much in the south. No idea about the rest of the Empire.”

“I’m sure that they’ve heard of it…” Anton looked back again. “I wonder if this is going to convert them.”

He looked at Verona, who cocked her head. “What was the religion of the old Kar Kingdom anyway?”

Verona paused for a moment. She glanced at Cetina, who raised both brows but said nothing. Verona guessed that Anton didn’t have a problem with her knowing a few extra things and shrugged. “I don’t know. By the time I was born, I think it had already fallen apart. That’s something you should ask Bertram or Sybil about. They would know. But, why ask now?”

Anton scratched his glyphed hand. “They don’t like our magic.” He glanced at Kal. “Or some of us for who we are. To them, we’re probably just heretics. And heretics, well…I think we’re going to have to deal with them sooner or later. The soldiers from Qaiviel ignored us last time because we were valuable but once we start to become bigger and more powerful they’ll take notice of us and we won’t have much of choice but to fight.”

Verona opened her mouth to reply but found her voice empty. She frowned, pondering his words, as they continued on their journey.

Chapter 97. Vol 3 - Crossing the River

Chapter 97:

The next four days passed without further incident, keeping as far away from the cities and villages as possible to keep potential incidents to a minimum. They passed small groups of Goblins and Ghlotsm, barely more than ten at a time and very haggard and thin, but they scurried away and hid the moment they were spotted. It was only thanks to Kal that they even knew they were there. When they stopped for the night Kal hunted small rabbits and foraged for edible plants and roots. It helped increase their food supplies, not that they were going to starve any time soon, and Kal appeared to enjoy it. Verona not so much with the blood from the slain animals. Cetina was a lot better too, she wasn’t falling off horses, but her hands occasionally reached for her hip and frowned when her fingers found no flask. When Anton caught her eye she looked away in shame but she was reaching for it less and less. Anton had no real idea what she was going through but using alcohol as a crutch was not a good idea.

“Do you think we can sell these?” Kal asked quietly.

She pulled her horse close to Anton and held up a rabbit skin, cleaned of flesh and fat. Anton held the fur, it was very soft and quite strong, warm in his fingers.

“I’ve kept the furs from each rabbit I killed.” Kal patted a pack by her legs. “I’m just thinking of things we could sell to make some money on the way. And if we can’t we can use it to make our sleeping gear softer. Especially for winter. What do you think?”

“Sure.” Anton handed the fur back. “Both sound like good ideas. Though I’ve got no idea what someone would be willing to pay for it. If we ever have to go somewhere cold we’ll want a whole bunch of those.” He tapped his armour. “I don’t like the chances of our armour against the snow. Except for yours, Verona.”

Verona laughed. “Mine’s quite cool actually. That enchanted fur works wonders against my skin. Surely you two could do something like that.”

“Something to try tonight.” Anton looked at Cetina. She still travelled at the rear but she looked a lot happier now. “Cetina? You’re a merchant. How much do you think this would sell for?”

Cetina whipped the reins and wedged her horses head between Anton and Kal. She reached forward and took the skin. “It’s pretty good. I don’t know a lot about selling furs but I’m sure you could get quite a few copper coins for each one. More if you sold them all at once.”

She handed it back to Kal. “But, why does it matter to you? You’ve got heaps of money. I mean, you gave me those gold coins, which I’ve still got, and then there’s this…”

Anton handed the skin back to Kal. “Because we’re going to need a lot more money than a few hundred gold coins. Besides, money makes everything easier.”

“But where did you get it all?”

“Would it surprise you if we said we found it in a mountain?” Verona shot her a smile.

Cetina pulled out a gold coin and brushed it clean. She frowned as she saw the star crown on the coin. “No. Not with you lot.”

“It might not be enough to buy a beast-kin slave but it’s a start,” Kal said. “I know I could just sell my arrows but I’m trying to think of other things my people could do.”

“I hate to say it but working in some new plantations, or in workshops, might be the easiest way for us to make money,” Anton said. Kal looked at him and tilted her head. “I mean, back when we get them home and not sent out to Graterious or something. We’ll sell the goods to Qaiviel or Graterious and use that money to buy more slaves.”

Kal nodded lightly. “Yeah. I’m still thinking of a way to let them know we aren’t like the Seocurians. They’ve been beaten and abused by humans every day of their lives. It took me a while to think that you could be good. If Tethra hadn’t told me what I would find there…”

“We’ll find a way.” Anton reached out and held her hand. “After all, you’re with us. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Kal nodded and looked forward as they reached the top of a gentle crest on the road. She squeezed his hand and pulled it closer to her body. Anton slowed his horse and so too did Verona and Cetina. Ahead lay a large river, easily thirty to forty meters wide. The water moved slowly but Anton could tell that it was deep. A stone bridge had been built over the river but trouble of a different kind lay before them. Hundreds of carts, bursting and overflowing with goods, waited impatiently in a line in front of the bridge. Almost a thousand people waited, all yelling and shouting, demanding to be let through. Something at the front was holding them up and pushing back the demanding hordes.

Anton spied a small hill to the side of the rear of the gathering convoy. “Let’s head over there. We’ll get a better view of what’s happening.”

They trotted up the hill and stopped.

“That’s going to be a problem,” Verona grumbled and shook her head.

The convoy was much larger than he first thought. And it appeared to contain more than just traders and merchants. Four very expensive looking carriages, with mighty steeds to pull them, were caught amongst the jam. Well-armed and nervous soldiers stood in tight circles with their backs to the carriages. Thankfully the traders and other travellers weren’t stupid enough to get too close.

Anton looked to the front of the jam to find fifty soldiers blocking the bridge. They wore Roman armour and formed a shield wall to stop anyone from getting through. A gap emerged in the shield wall and they let a caravan through, immediately closing tight as the people surged forward thinking it was open. None were struck down but the soldiers waved their swords and spears menacingly and the crowd backed off again. On the other side of the river, another line of soldiers stood still, though not to block anyone coming from the other side. These didn’t look like the standard Roman style soldiers. Rather they wore expensive looking leather armour and dark metal armoured plates, all designed for speed and stealth rather than outright strength. The soldiers on the far side sat idly about and watched the other soldiers struggling to hold back the tide of people.

“So…” Anton reached into his pack and produced Cassius’s map of Graterious. “If I’m right we’re at the border between Cassius’s and Lord Umbris territory.”

“But aren’t they supposed to be friends?” Verona asked.

“Allies, not friends. I think Cassius made that clear when he didn’t want Umbris to have the communication pens. But…He’s not holding them back. Although I get the feeling this has everything to do with us. Maybe.”

“Too fast for word about those Ghlotsm to spread,” Cetina said. When they glanced at her she shied away a little, her horse took a step back, but she held her face firm.

Anton agreed with her though. “True. Though, it’s more than long enough for dedicated word about something else to travel this far.”

All four went silent. Their horses snorted and idly stomped on the ground.

“Well, we aren’t going to figure it out from here.”

Anton looked along the river for another crossing. He saw nothing, perhaps something at the furthest limit of his vision towards the south. Perhaps a small mountain. The map held no answers or hints of another way to Rusaddir, though it did have a faint line where the river should be.

“To the back of the line then,” Anton said. “No one likes queue jumpers.”

Verona and Kal looked a little confused but they all travelled down the hill. The people waiting looked towards them but quickly ignored them when they realised they were just four people on horseback. They reached the rear of the convoy just before another large cart stopped behind them. The driver looked confused at Anton, who could only shrug. He huffed and turned to his companions to talk amongst themselves.

Anton dismounted and rubbed his legs. “I’m going to go for a walk and see what’s causing the holdup. I really want to stretch my legs as well.”

“Me too.” Verona quickly dismounted with a thud. “Do you want us to come with you?”

“I’ll be fine if you three just want to stretch your legs,” Anton replied. “I won’t be going far and I just want to find out what’s going on.”

“Okay.” Verona rubbed her legs.

“Just stay where we can see you,” Kal added.

Anton nodded and, after rubbing and shaking his legs to restore feeling, walked along the jam. Some looked at him strangely, like he was cutting the line, but Anton tried his best to look like the innocent tourist he was. Many people looked quite threatening but Anton ignored them. They guessed from the sheer cost of his armour that he was someone important, or at the very least wealthy, and tried to keep him at bay. About a quarter of the way down along the convoy he found a large caravan, an image of a blue diamond with a black cross lay on the canvas, which looked friendlier. The elderly man with the reins was nearly asleep and two young boys with him were more interested in flirting with the young women of another caravan.

“Excuse me,” Anton spoke loudly enough to wake the old man. “Do you have a moment?”

The old man grumbled as he pulled himself up. He frowned when he saw there had been virtually no movement.

“I suppose.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Not much else going on.”

“My friends and I have just arrived at this little incident. Do you know what’s happening?”

The old man shuffled in his wooden seat. “Lord Cassius’s is what’s happening.” He sniffed loudly. “Seems he’s got all bothered about Tullas Mad-Eye and his gang. Been sending orders all over the empire to hunt them down.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Good bloody luck to him. They’ve been a constant problem since they crawled out of that rotten bog all those winters ago. About time they’re doing something about them.”

Cassius’s son, Crispus, was heading north to deal with a hideout of that gang when they stopped to help retake Fort Acidava. They must have gotten more locations then. Good. Don’t need bandits and the like making things worse when Demons might be pouring into this world. Still no news from my Gods about that…

The old man had been quiet while Anton thought. Thankfully the old man took Anton’s silence as deep contemplation rather than mentally wandering off.

Anton chuckled and smiled. “How long before you guys get through?”

“Don’t really know. A long time. Too long. They’re checking everyone for the mark of Tullas’s gang. On their wrist.” The old man showed his bare wrists. Anton remembered thieves that tried to rob the blacksmith in Porswea. They had tattoos on their wrists. “That’s why those nobles and other tofts are so nervous. No one is being spared.”

“Not even the nobles?” Anton felt increasingly nervous about Kal.

He shook his head. “Nope. From what I’ve heard Cassius will hang them if they do. And no one’s really happy about that.”

“Hmm.”

Anton stepped away from the jam and looked at the lines of soldiers. Now he was closer he could see a few soldiers with crossbows. To the side, near the edge of the water, stood a dozen lightly armoured horses grazing near the slow flowing river. Twelve lightly armoured men stood nearby and idly chatted, occasionally glancing towards the still convoy.

“Perhaps…Do you know a way around this? We don’t have time to wait.”

The old man frowned as his old eyes raked over his body. “Well, there is a small mountain range to the south. It straddles the river and there are ways across…So long as you don’t have a cart and you’re willing to brave the rocky hills. There’s a pass through there, but I don’t know if you can still cross it.”

“Thanks.” Anton smiled. “That sounds like a good bet. I hope that you get through soon.”

The old man huffed and leant back in his cart’s chair. The two younger men had completely ignored him and appeared somewhat successful in their attempts at courtship. As they took the woman by the hands Anton took his leave.

Kal and Verona were standing to the side and keeping an eye out for him. They visibly relaxed when he came back. Cetina remained close to the horses and eyed off anyone wanting to come close. One quick glare from her single eye, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword, was enough to send them scurrying away. Anton nodded for them to gather.

“How bad is it?” Kal asked.

Anton explained what he heard. Kal became increasingly distressed and she scratched at her wrists and looked at the bridge.

“Okay…” Verona sighed. “We aren’t getting through that way. Do you think we can actually cross those mountains?”

“I…” Anton shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe. It sounds like it can be crossed but it’s going to be more than a little treacherous. Though we don’t have much of a choice.”

Kal sighed and gently shook her head. “It’s so annoying…”

Verona smiled and held her shoulder. Kal sighed again and patted her hand.

Cetina turned to him. “If we go I think those riders might give chase. Obviously, they’d want to know why we left.” She looked to Kal. “Which would be bad.”

“Either way they would find out.” Anton looked at the bridge. “And if we got caught here we’d definitely have to fight our way out. That’s something we don’t want to do. So…The Mountains it is.”

They mounted their horses and peeled away from the convoy. Many people looked at them as they rode quickly away from the bridge. Anton looked back and saw a few of the riders mounting their horses. While they hadn’t done anything illegal they would at least want to know why they left.

They travelled a few minutes back along the road, passing several more trading carts and caravans laden with goods, before turning south. The terrain was open, with patches of forest and sparse shrubbery, and allowed them to travel rapidly. A few small houses, even a few small villages passed them by as they rode towards the mountain. They were poor, made with roughly cut wood, but they were hardy. The very few people they saw were tired, dirty and looked more than ready to fend them off. Hands travelled to weapons, mainly farming equipment when they saw them approach. When they passed by they returned to their work, though they kept an eye on them.

“Must be tough,” Anton said.

Verona turned towards him.

“I mean, we’ve always been travelling or staying in places that are…pretty safe. Considering everything we’ve seen.”

He looked to a small house in the distance, all alone in a small clearing, with only a small picket fence to keep our predators and their large animals in. Two men and three women worked crops to the rear of the house. When they saw them approach the men ushered the women out of sight.

Anton sighed. “I couldn’t imagine having to live like that. Always watching and waiting for something to attack and take your stuff. Having to hide your wife and daughters from prying and lustful eyes.”

“I’m sure you’d get used to it,” Kal said.

All three nodded and increased their speed.

---[]---

The old man had been right about the mountain to the south. It was nowhere near as large as Mount Aspire but it wasn’t a molehill either. A few of the peaks were tipped with snow but most was dark grey and barren stone. As they approached Anton saw a faint path emerge in the grass heading towards the mountain. Not enough for it to be a route for traders and caravans but more than enough for small peddlers and trappers going up into the mountain. Smugglers perhaps.

They followed the faint path up the mountain. The grass faded away and the path turned flat with small stones amongst the small boulders and large slate-like plates forming a slippery and unstable path. It quickly became too steep for the horses to traverse while they rode them.

When Anton’s feet made contact with the stones he felt one slip out from underneath him. He held tight on the reins to stop himself from falling down, much to the horse’s annoyance. The girls didn’t have any problems, they saw him and made careful decisions where they put their feet and led the horses up the mountain.

“Um…Anton?” Verona began. “I’ve just had a thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, if those guards were trying to stop those gang or bandits or whatever back at the bridge?”

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t they here?” She looked back to the base of the mountain. “Both of them. I mean, isn’t this somewhere the bandits would cross? Shouldn’t everyone know about this place?”

“It’s what I would do,” Kal said, giving her horse a gentle tug to keep it moving over some unstable stones. “I’ve taken bandit and smuggler’s paths before. But, Verona’s right. If the soldiers are any good there should be someone to stop us. Or they should have tried to collapse the path…”

Anton looked at the large stones above them. The giant boulders and tough short trees nestled between them gave nothing away of what might be lurking just beyond their sight. But they were right. There should have been someone to stop them. Either the soldiers didn’t think this pathway was worth checking, doubtful with a man like Cassius in command and with the spectre of extreme punishment weighing over their heads, they were understaffed, again unlikely, or they thought no one would be stupid enough to try. That last thought did not still well with him. He kept his eyes focused as they quietly trudged up the mountain pass.

A large boulder lay in the middle of the pathway. Anton raised his hand for them to stop. Large patches of moss and dust had gathered around the base, it had not moved in some time but it was more than large enough to hide four or five people.

Kal handed her horses reins to Verona and took out her bow. “Do you think…” She whispered.

“Maybe. Can you tell if something’s there?”

Kal glanced at Cetina and raised her mask. With her nose exposed to the air, she took in a deep breath. She pulled some cloth away from an ear and listened carefully.

“Nothing. Doesn’t mean they aren’t hiding. The wind’s blowing from behind us so it’s hard to tell.”

Anton nodded and readied several lightning bombs. Kal kept her mask up as she took the reins back from Verona. Cetina looked utterly stunned at Kal’s face.

“I…I only saw a glance,” Cetina said quietly. “I…”

Kal smiled and readjusted her mask. “Come on.”

Cetina nodded and drew her sword. They slowly approached the boulder and Anton readied to release his magic. It appeared his concern was for nought, there was nothing waiting for them on the other side except for a small bush.

Verona grumbled but shrugged. “It’s good practice though.”

“I thought there could have been something.” Anton looked back down the mountain path as Kal and Cetina led the horses past the boulder. “Anyway, where are those riders? I’m sure they were following us.”

Verona looked back. “I…I think that’s them. I thought they would have caught up with us by now. We weren’t going that fast.”

“Move the horses behind the boulder,” Anton said. “Just in case they can see us. And try and keep them as quiet as possible. And no one speak either. I don’t want to be deafened.”

Verona and Kal nodded while Cetina looked on confused but appeared to agree. Kal had explained what prayer she said when she listened to Crispus’s and Ricimer’s conversation outside Fort Acidava. He spoke the prayer and the world crashed into his ears. Everything was almost silent. Through his periphery, he saw the riders appearing around the edge of a small forest. They stopped at the last small house before the mountain passage. Anton chanted an eye enhancement prayer and the world burst into clarity. Now he could see and hear the Graterious riders like they were right in front of him.

“Up the closed pass?” One of the soldiers asked. “You saw four riders go up that pass.”

The man, wearing rough peasant clothes, nodded furiously. “Yes, my lords. They rode past, a strange looking bunch, and went straight up the pass. They didn’t stop or say anything. I…I didn’t like the looks of that one with the mask.”

He shuffled forward and looked up the pass. They couldn’t see them hidden behind the rocks but Anton waved them back further, just in case. He couldn’t see or hear them but if he turned he would be vomiting everywhere.

“Do…Do you think that they’re part of the Mad Eye’s gang?” The farmer sounded terrified.

The soldier looked up the pass again. “Maybe. But they’ve gone up the Griffon Pass without any, what are they called? Ricora herbs. They’re on horses so they couldn’t have any with them. Darn things just start sneezing and shitting everywhere the moment they smell it. They’d…”

Oh dear.

“Yes my lord. I’m guessing they didn’t have any. And they didn’t ask about them either.”

The soldier frowned. “Sounds like that’s a common thing you have to deal with? People asking how to get over the Griffon Pass and around the roads? Buying some Ricora herbs? Letting them get past the patrols looking for bandits and smugglers? I bet you make a nice profit too…”

He looked to their house. “And it’s quite a nice house you’ve got out here. Same with a few of your fellow farmers. Good iron tools and wood, good clothes and your animals look very good and healthy. But there are other farmers we’ve come across that don’t look anywhere near as good. Almost like you’ve got another source of money…”

He drew his sword and the farmer shied away, raising his hands in submission. “No, my lords. I would never do something like that. We’re just simple farmers doing what we can to get by. Lord Cassius ordered all the Ricora herbs burned some time ago and they haven’t come back…We would never sell them to Tullas Mad Eye’s gang.”

The rider whipped the reins and kicked the head of the farmer hard. He shouted and fell down, clutching his head. A woman, of roughly the same age, raced to his side.

“Damn peasants. Can’t trust them to do anything right. How do you know they weren’t? What, they were just some bandits or smugglers? So that’s fine then? Tullas works with nearly every form of lowlife in the empire. And you just admitted to helping them.” The rider nodded to his fellows. “String this lot up and hang a placard from their necks. Burn their house to the ground and set the animals loose. Let everyone know what they did. Cassius will not be pleased to hear this pass can still be used. We’ll have to station someone here…”

“Please!” The man begged as the soldiers advanced on him. “Not my wife and children. We aren’t the only ones-”

“I said string them up.” The rider shook his head and looked towards the Griffon Pass. “I’ll head to the base of the pass and wait while you lot finish. If they’re smart they’ll come back. Otherwise, they’ll be dead. And when we see them we’ll have a nice…chat.”

The soldiers grabbed the pair and dragged them, kicking and screaming, towards a large tree. They tried to attack the soldiers but they punched their faces into submission. A rider entered the house and emerged with a young boy and girl held firmly by their hair. Already they were throwing ropes over the lowest branch.

Anton deactivated his enhancements and turned away. He sighed and scratched the back of his head.

There's not a lot we can do for them. By the time we get down they'll be dead. And if we do interfere it'll really make Cassius think we're a part of Tullas's gang. And then everything turns to shit.

“How bad is it?” Verona asked.

“Nothing good,” Anton replied. “They aren’t coming up here, they don’t think it’s necessary since we’ve gone up something called the Griffon Pass. I presume there’s going to be Griffon’s flying about here.”

“What’s that?” Verona and Kal asked.

Anton didn’t know what a Griffon in this world was. If they were anything like the mythological beasts of Earth they were not to be trifled with.

“It’s a large hybrid creature. The head of an eagle, the body of a lion and wings with claws for its front feet.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Verona said. She looked to Kal.

“I’ve never seen one before but I’ve heard of them.” Kal looked at the sky. “From what I’ve heard they lived in the mountains of the Clans…I guess they could be elsewhere. Maybe they live this far into the Graterious Empire. I’ve never been this far.”

“They exist in Bebbezzar.” Cetina looked pained to say that name. “A few roamed near Thessos but I didn’t see them up close. But I was told they were fine so long as you didn’t get too close or if they’re hungry.” She frowned as she looked at the top of the mountain. “Or if you’re too close to their nest.”

“Let’s hope the pass is far enough away from their nesting ground.” Anton beckoned his horse forward. “This is going to sound sick…But if we are attacked you are more important than the horses.” The girls looked at him. “I can’t bring you back if you’re dead. Understood?”

They nodded and Verona reached for her small blade. When she had a vial’s worth of blood they crept forward. Anton kept his eyes upward for any sign of a giant creature swooping down to attack. He would barely have a second to act before he was dead. Lightning bombs and fireballs bubbled within him, ready to strike. Minutes passed and still, nothing came at them. Nothing moved in the rocks above, only a few small rats skittering through the sparse vegetation on the mountain.

Just as he was starting to relax Verona grabbed his arm. She nodded forward, a strange look on her face. “Blood. There’s blood ahead. Lots of it.”

The path ahead rose then fell. Anton raised his hand for them to stop again as he saw something in the small depression on the path. It wasn’t a gryphon. A deer lay motionless in the path. A deer six meters long. The thick light grey coat was stained with blood, the creature's guts had been torn apart with dozens of deep gouges running along its chest and belly. Blood pooled around the stones and had lost its sheen and darkened in colour. This was not a recent kill.

They looked for anything moving but saw nothing lurking amongst the rocks and shrubs

Anton looked at Cetina. “I’m taking this isn’t a Griffin.”

“No…I don’t know what this is.”

Anton approached knelt down to the creature. Its tongue hung loosely from its mouth, dried and stiff. The deer’s eyes were glazed over, shrivelled and stared endlessly at the beaming sun above. The wounds on its guts were deep and clearly the work of powerful and sharp claws. Strangely its rear legs were bird’s feet, four thick and strong talons forming the foot. The claws were covered in blood and small pieces of a brown hide, a colour that wasn’t present on the deer. Its tail was the tail of a bird. A very long tail at that. The feathers, tarnished by blood and excrement, started just above the hip and extended for another two meters. Two feathers along the middle of the tail were slightly longer than the rest and dark blue compared to the rest of the grey plumage.

“Is anyone seeing else seeing that?” Verona pointed to just above its shoulder.

What Anton once thought was a wound was actually the stump of a limb. He leant forward to get a better look while keeping an eye on the head just to make sure it was dead. The stump was the remains of a wing. A few small bloodstained feathers cradled the wound. On the other side of the body lay the complete wing, separated from the main body, almost as wide as the creature was long and made from long white and grey feathers. He looked around but couldn’t find any sign of the other wing. Whatever killed this deer was probably gnawing on it right now.

Kal passed her reins to Verona and pulled her mask to one side. She frowned and knelt down by the deer’s front hooves. She drew her knife and prodded at the hooves.

“There’s some fur stuck in here.” Kal pulled hard and removed only a tiny tuft from the hooves. “It hit whatever killed it with a lot of force.”

Anton looked at the muscles of the deer, the grey fur barely hid the taut muscles underneath. “If it hit something in the chest it’ll have caved it in.”

“It’s even cracked the hoof.” Kal prodded a bit more before standing up and looking up the mountain. “It fought here. Violently too.”

She pointed to some of the large rocks. They weren’t sitting flat and were up at odd angles, their colour lighter and covered in a light spattering of dust. The moss and algae had been disturbed and even a small shrub had been broken. There was no sign of the missing wing amongst the rocks.

“So…What do we do with it?” Cetina asked.

“Not much we can do,” Anton said. “The creatures need to eat as well.”

“I don’t think we should take the meat.” Verona frowned at the tail. “But…We might be able to sell the feathers for money.” She looked to Kal then to Anton. “It might go for a bit. And, as you said, every bit-”

A tiny squeak came from the beast. Kal drew her blade and darted in front of Anton, pushed him back as Verona summoned her blood shards. Anton looked at the head as the girls continued to push him back. It was clearly dead, but something made that noise. Kal refused to stop pushing until he was near the horses and Cetina’s drawn blade.

Verona held the blood shards over the body as she looked back. “So…What was that?”

Anton found his eyes drawn to the opened guts of the beast. Something moved near the hindquarters. Anton moved forward, Kal took her bow and knocked an arrow, and he pried the hind limb away with his foot. Where there should have been intestines, he had seen torn apart Goblins enough to know what they looked like, there was something else. A single large round organ, with several deep cuts into it.

Another squeak came from within, something faintly pressed against it from the inside.

“Is something eating it from the inside?” Verona asked.

Anton shook his head. “No. I…I think that’s its womb.”

He took Kal’s knife and knelt down. He removed his gloves and opened the deep gashes into the womb. Inside he saw baby deer’s. All still and dead, covered in deep cuts, killed by the strike that tore through her guts. But something had made that noise. He cut the wound open more and waved to Cetina. She looked a little disturbed as he motioned for her to pull the rear leg out of the way. With more access, he cut his way deeper. On the far side, he saw something moving, something alive. He reached in and pulled out a baby deer, barely larger than a human baby.

Anton stood up and held the baby up to the light and fresh air. The blood-stained baby was a near complete copy of its mother, its antlers were only stumps but it did have both wings, both small and diminutive. The rear tail feathers were much shorter and the two long blue feathers had not gown yet. Currently, they were just dark grey. It breathed very faintly, its eyes closed, as it desperately tried to crawl out of Anton’s arms, not that he was going to let it.

“Poor thing,” Anton said. The deer creature whimpered as he patted its sticky head.

“Its mother was killed before it was even born…” Verona sighed and withdrew her blood to her vials.

“We basically gave it a Caesarean.” Anton tried to remove some blood from its mouth. “I don’t think it’s a safe procedure in this world, without Tethra’s help at least. That’s how I came into the world.”

Anton frowned. He couldn’t remember why he knew that the further he went into his memory he found nothing but scratchy voids. He shook his head before the numbing sensation overwhelmed him. Verona and Kal looked worried at him, while Cetina stared at the creature in his arm.

“Now what?” Cetina asked. “Do we take or leave him?”

Anton raised the deer’s leg. “I think it’s a girl. But, we can’t just leave it here. Especially after saving it.”

“But what even is it?” Verona asked. “I mean, what does it eat?”

Anton opened its mouth. The deer resisted but it didn’t have the strength. “I’m guessing it eats grass. You see the teeth?” He lowered it so the girls could see better. “See how they’re all flat and wide. Like our back teeth?”

“Not like mine.” Kal quietly added.

“Right…Well, it means they eat stuff that needs to be chewed and ground up. Leaves, grasses and maybe even seeds.”

“That means I’m supposed to just eat meat?” Kal asked.

“I’m not sure. But I’ve seen you eat meat when you’re really hungry.” He smiled at Verona. “Almost as bad as her when she’s eating my food.”

Both chuckled but the deer whimpered again.

“But when they’re young they need milk.” Anton continued. “Just like we do. They need it to grow. And we don’t have any.”

Verona looked at her chest then to Kal’s and Cetina’s. “Well, we aren’t going to be much help.” Kal frowned while she and Cetina flushed lightly. “So either we leave it here and it gets eaten…”

“Or we take it but it starves to death.” Anton sighed and gently rubbed the creatures head. “I’m sure that we can buy some milk at the farms we pass, I know I saw a few goats back the way we came, but milk doesn’t last long. And I don’t know of a way to keep it fresh for the boat ride. She’ll die before we can reach Danafra.”

All went silent while they thought.

“It can’t eat cheese, can it?” Verona asked. “I know that’s made from milk but…”

Kal shook her head. “I don’t think so. It needs to be a liquid so it can drink it. I’ve never seen a baby eating something solid just after it’s born.”

“You know that from experience?”

Kal nodded. “Everyone was kept together so you saw it all the time.”

Anton didn’t want her to think on the slave pens any longer than necessary. “We should keep moving for now and think of a way to keep this little guy alive.”

“I like that we’ve decided to take her with us.” Verona smiled as she took her reins. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s what I want to do, it’s just that we didn’t need to say it.”

“Yeah.”

The deer creature started coughing. Anton saw its dry and parched tongue. “Cetina? Do you have some spare water?”

She nodded and returned with a small flask. Anton tried his best to pool the water in his hand and let it drink but it wasn’t interested. He opened its mouth and gently poured in a small morsel. The deer resisted for a moment before it drank up everything it was given.

“Well, at least it won’t die of thirst,” Cetina said.

“It won’t be long before it starts to get hungry. If she isn’t already.”

Kal came to his side with several large pieces of cloth. Some of it looked like the pieces they looted from the chest on their trip through the old Kar Kingdom. When she saw him looking oddly she shrugged.

“I didn’t have that much left over. Besides, I can get better stuff in the next city.”

“Thanks, Kal.” He kissed her forehead.

Verona led their three horses, until Kal took hers back, around the dead deer mother and along the path. Anton bundled the deer in the cloth and used a spare strip to wipe away the blood from its fur. It whimpered as he whipped it roughly. Some of the blood had dried and had turned sticky, it would need a good bath.

“So what are we going to call the little girl?” Verona asked, reaching over and tickling its head. It appeared to like that.

“I…don’t know. Kal? Cetina?”

Cetina shrugged. Kal went silent before looking up at the sky.

“How about Luna?” Kal smiled. “Sounds like a good name.”

Anton nodded and lightly bounced the creature in his arms. “Well Luna, welcome to our strange little adventure. Now…Now we just need to get you some milk.”

“But how is she going to drink it?” Verona asked. “If they’re meant to suckle on a nipple…”

“I think that I remember something about dipping a wrapped up section of cloth into milk and letting it suck on that. Not ideal but it’ll drink it at least…Maybe.”

“Now we just need to find some.”

Anton retook his reins from Verona and continued along the mountain path. While he saw no Griffons or more of the deer creatures he kept the lightning bombs bubbling away in the back of his mind. He didn’t need to use his hands to direct the strikes, they only helped with coordination and efficiency. If the worst came he would have to drop the baby deer creature to fight then heal it, if either of them survived.

When they reached the next crest Verona stopped them with a harsh whisper, ordering them to crouch low. Anton peered over and saw another dead body to the side of the path. This was the Griffon, a six-meter long amalgamation of a lion and eagle that matched his image of the creature of Earth. This one was dead. Its front claws were drenched in old blood, the same colour and viscosity as the deer, with large tufts of white fur sticking stuck in the claws. Its beak was broken, caved in on one side with a large hoof-shaped imprint near its head, and an eye hung loosely from its socket. The chest was equally deformed and had completely caved in.

“Well…At least she got the one that tried to kill her.” Verona quietly said.

“But what if this one’s pregnant as well?” Kal asked, raising a dark aqua brow.

Anton waved them forward and they slowly crept up on the Griffon. “It’s a boy. So we don’t have to worry about that. But it might have a mate and I don’t want to have to deal with a very angry woman that’s just lost her partner.”

“No, you don’t.” Verona smiled bitterly at the dead Griffon. “Say, Cetina, is any part of a Griffon valuable?”

Cetina shrugged. “The hide, maybe. But it’ll take a long time to skin it. And while we’re still on this mountain too. Maybe the feathers of the wings…but someone might ask where we got them from. If they care about the Gryphons it might cause trouble. Back in Thessos, we could only hunt a few every winter.”

“Again, I’m just thinking of ways we might be able to make a little money on the way.”

“Let’s keep going.” Anton pulled on his reins.

They stepped wide of the Griffon, keeping an eye on it just to make sure it was dead and continued on their journey.

---[]---

Anton breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the other side of the Griffon pass. Nothing had attacked them, he didn’t see anything other than the two bodies, and all were relieved to be safe on the other side. The scenery had completely changed. The open grass and scrublands had disappeared and the small and sparse forests had become far denser. It wasn’t as dense as the Accursed Forest or the forest from Soulthor to Porswea, but the heat from the sun’s rays were all but intercepted by the tall trees above them. The deer, nestled in his arms, appreciated it and pulled closer to him.

“Do we head back to the road now?” Cetina asked. “Or do we join it at the next city?”

“I think we should keep to the countryside for a bit longer,” Anton replied. “It’ll be really weird if we turn up at the other side of the bridge after all that effort. I’m sure they’ll stop us.”

“Especially with Luna in your arms.” Verona smiled.

“True. But she is starting to get really heavy. We’ll need something to put her in while we move. We can’t just carry her all the time.”

“But we need to get her some milk.” Kal leant over, her mask fixed to her face once again and hiding her beautiful face. “Something to eat. She doesn’t look that well.”

“I’ve chanted a healing prayer on her but she’s probably just hungry. I’m pretty sure that babies start sucking pretty much straight away. And she could have been there for almost a day, maybe even longer than that.”

“Can your powers fix that?” Verona asked.

“I…I think it might. Maybe. But it took a lot out of me to make a wooden spoon from a branch. I don’t know how much it would take to conjure up a sandwich.”

“What’s that?” Cetina asked. Verona and Kal nodded.

“Um, it’s two layers of bread with other food, like meat or vegetables, inside. I haven’t eaten one in a long time.” Verona and Cetina looked bemused while Kal tilted her head. “Anyway, after I’ve healed myself I still feel the same level of hunger as before. Though that could be because I asked it to heal me rather than fill my stomach.”

“Well, we still need to get it some milk that’ll last a long time.” Verona glanced at Cetina and sighed. “Do you know a way?”

“Refrigeration would be the easiest way that I know of.” Again the girls looked confused. “Another word for keeping something cold. Keeping food cold will slow it rotting and decaying. It’ll last a very long time. Hopefully long enough to reach Danafra and pick up some fresh milk. I’m sure they’ll have some there.”

“Do you mean something like ice?” Cetina asked. “That won’t last long in this weather.”

Kal scratched the chin of her mask. “Maybe…Maybe we’ve seen something that could do that. And I’m pretty sure that, after seeing my arrows work, you and I can make something.”

“This should be interesting.” Verona teased and began tickling Kal’s arm.

Kal swatted away her fingers and nodded forward. “There’s a rocky outcrop just ahead. I think I can hear water. We can stop there and take a break.”

The rocky outcrop was actually the source of a small stream, a spring. The water had carved a small pool below the source almost a meter wide and half deep. A few small fish swam in the gently rippling pool. They darted away the moment their shadows touched the water.

“Cetina?” Anton began. “I know this might be imposing but could you hold her for just a minute?”

Cetina nodded and gently took her from his hands. She smiled at the half sleeping deer and moved towards the large rocks to sit down.

“So what’s your idea?” Anton asked Kal.

Kal lifted her mask to one side, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that covered her skin. “Remember that bath we had in Porswea?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ll forget that in a while.”

Both flushed lightly as Verona approached with a cheesy smile on her face.

Verona played with the ring underneath her gloves. “Never going to forget that. Those nights…”

Kal coughed. “Well, that bath had warm water even though it had been there a while, and there wasn’t any water coming in. I was thinking of something like that. But instead of hot, it’ll be cold.”

“Sounds like you had a Heating Heart,” Cetina said. She shied away a little when everyone looked at her. “In Thessos, since we’re close to the mountains, it’s usually quite cold. And there isn’t enough forest, timber, to heat all the water that we need, so…”

A slight shiver overcame her body as she thought about her past, her right hand left the cradle it had formed around Luna and drifted to her hip. She shook her head and continued.

“My father bought a lot of Heating Hearts. It’s a small blue stone, about the size of a fist, which uses Earth Mana to make heat.”

“We didn’t see anything like that,” Verona replied. “And we did check everywhere in the bath…Though, there was a metal grate at the bottom. It was probably underneath that.”

“It wasn’t that hot though.”

Cetina smiled. “You couldn’t handle it if it was. And I don’t think people would like to have a bath in boiling water.”

“True.” Anton smiled as he turned to Kal. “That makes sense. You want to make the opposite of that?”

Kal nodded and smiled. “Yes. It’s the best idea I’ve got.”

“It’s a good idea.” Anton gently rubbed her head. He saw her wrapped tail want to wiggle free. “Any idea what we can use to make that work?”

“This, once again, is beyond me.” Verona sighed and pulled a pouting face. “I’m going to look sit with Cetina and see if we can give Luna a wash.”

Verona pulled Anton down for a quick kiss. He returned it, Kal looked very jealous, before Verona patted his cheek and sauntered over to Cetina. Cetina shuffled to the side as Verona sat and began to poke and play with Luna.

“You aren’t bringing Luna along as…practice, are you?” Kal asked, a faint smirk on her face.

“What?”

Kal glanced at Verona, who was thoroughly engrossed by Luna and held his hand. “One day we’re going to have your babies. Sooner rather than later, if what we’re doing is any indicator. I’ve been speaking with Verona about it and…we don’t really know what to expect.” Kal’s head bobbed around a little. “I mean, I know what’s going to happen to our bodies, some good and some not so good things, but not how to properly raise our children.”

“I didn’t take Luna because of that,” Anton replied. “It felt wrong to just leave her there. Back home, in my world, I remember that some people were thought to do that sort of thing with animals. But, here we have loads of people to help us. Besides, I know we’re all going to do great.”

Kal smiled. “I thought so. I just wanted to check.” She took a deep breath and lightly slapped her cheeks. Verona looked up but looked away when she saw it was fine. “Hopefully Verona’s won’t inherit her hunger.”

Anton chuckled. Again Verona looked up but said nothing. She and Cetina were speaking, he couldn’t hear over the light splashing sound of the spring water rushing over the rocks.

“So what’s your plan Kal?”

Kal scratched her cheek. “Right. Well, my plan really doesn’t go much further than asking Tethra to make something give off cold…or take in heat.”

“And use Earth Mana to run it, just like my Communication pens.”

Kal furiously nodded her head.

“That’s a good idea.” Anton bit his lower lip. “But what to use as a base…”

Kal’s eyes widened before she ran towards the rocky outcrop. As she searched through the small rocks a thought bubbled up in Anton’s mind. He, and Kal, were able to create magical devices and Shawn and Jocelyn were, at last contact, progressing very well towards infusing fire and lightning into weapons and armour, but how did normal people create magical devices? They were a little preoccupied in Porswea to ask but now there was someone with them that might know.

“Cetina?”

“Yes?” She looked up and smiled. “I’m not hurting her.”

“No, not that. I was wondering how things like a Heating Heart were made?” Cetina raised a brow. “Kal and I can just ask Tethra to make anything we need, within reason. But how does everyone else do it?”

“I’m not really sure,” Cetina replied. “But I know that there are cities where they make them. Thessos wasn’t one of them but I’m sure mage guilds make them. It makes them a lot of money. How they actually make them, I don’t know. I never thought to ask before.”

Kal returned to his side with a smooth stone that fit perfectly in her palm.

“Thanks, Cetina.” Anton nodded to her then looked at Kal. “Alright. I think you’re better at using the prayer power than I am.”

“But you have a lot more mana.” Kal retorted.

“Just kiss already,” Verona said loudly, a smirk on her face.

Kal closed her eyes and smiled faintly. “So, I’ll just do what you said you did for those Communication Pens. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, make this stone generate coldness enough to freeze-”

“No.” Anton interrupted. Kal looked up while she held the stone tight. “Just above freezing.”

Kal nodded. “Make this stone’s temperature always be just above freezing. Make it so the stone uses Earth Mana to function.”

Kal’s eyes opened and widened in surprise. She passed the stone from one hand to another as she chuckled. “It’s really cold.” She laughed. “It worked.”

Anton held out his hand. Kal passed it over. His skin turned extremely cold the moment it touched his skin. There was no sign the stone was cold, other than an extremely faint amount of dew condensing on the surface. He brushed it away and felt the wetness on his fingers.

“Kal?”

“Yes?”

“If you could sell these you wouldn’t need to work again, beyond chanting a prayer each day.”

“How much do you think we could sell it for?”

Anton looked at Cetina. “I’m not really sure. A couple hundred silver at the very least. It sounds like it won’t ever run out or stop so it’ll be pretty valuable. I wasn’t ever involved with buying anything like that but I know it would be worth quite a bit. You could have a box of meat or vegetables and throw one in.”

“Everything wouldn’t have to be salted either.” Verona licked her lips. “Meat could be kept juicy and fresh. Freshly cooked and bursting with flavour…And you wouldn’t have to hunt every day either.”

“Exactly.” Anton handed the stone back to Kal. “Now we just need to find a farm where we can buy milk from.”

Anton looked around him. While the forest above had taken away the sting from the sun’s rays there was more than enough passing through to allow thick grass to grow. It was a darker shade than what it was on the other side of the river but still very lush and thick. There was a very good chance that there would be farms somewhere nearby. And where there were farms there would be animals.

“Is everyone rested and ready to go?”

“Just a moment.” Verona stood up and moved around the rocky outcrop to the pool. “Haven’t actually washed her yet. I don’t know how she’ll like it but she can’t have the blood stuck to her.”

Anton moved to Verona’s side and helped her clean Luna. She struggled for a moment as the cold water washed over her body but slowly calmed down when Verona gently stroked her head. The blood slowly washed away and her light grey lustre returned. Cetina and Kal gathered their horses and readied them to leave.

As Verona wrapped Luna back up in the cloth, drying her small head vigorously a frown formed on her face.

“I know that look,” Anton said.

“I…I was just thinking.”

“Yes?”

She lightly punched his arm. “No need to be rude. I was thinking about what you and Kal said. That you two can use your powers, the power of the Old Gods, like I do, to just make magical devices.”

“Yes.”

“Well, Nithroel is an Old God. And she’s not friendly to us, that much is clear.”

Anton had a suspicion where this was going. And it had to do with the small bundle in her arms.

“And her mark.” Verona held his hand. “Is a leaf surrounded by antlers. Kind of like her mother has.”

“I see.” Anton rested his hand on Luna’s head. She looked up at him, her doey eyes full of worry. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, break any link between Luna and Nithroel and ensure that nothing can remake the bond.”

A large amount of mana left him. Luna’s eyes shot open and she tried to escape Verona’s arms. The orange on her cheeks deepened to a dark red. When the colour had finished changing Luna stopped writhing and calmed down. She looked up and began to lick the underside of Anton’s hand. Anton scratched its head and Luna squeaked in happiness.

“I guess Nithroel did have a link.” Verona stood up and scratched Luna’s head. “But now you don’t have that nasty, big titted woman, that dresses like a whore whispering in your ear and reading your thoughts, do you?”

Luna sneezed and curled up in the bundle of cloth. When Anton returned to his horse Kal and Cetina were emptying a pack and transferring its contents to the others. They had changed the protection prayer on the pack so Cetina wasn’t affected.

Kal raised her mask. “It might not be the best but we can put her in the pack and wrap her in some soft cloth so she doesn’t bounce too much.”

“We just need to make sure she doesn’t jump out.”

“I don’t think she has the strength for that.” Anton put Luna in the pack, making sure her head was free and that her body wouldn’t be crushed. “We need to find some soon. Who’s got the map?”

“I do,” Kal answered. She rolled out the map. “So…we’re here. And if we still want to go to Rusaddir we need to get back to the road before this town here.”

Anton leant over and saw a small town in between a mountain range. On Cassius’s map, there were several small Griffons and dragon-like creatures flying around the mountains. The chances of getting through the mountains were probably nil, especially as the so-called Griffon pass wasn’t even drawn on the map. It was probably just a local name considering it appeared to be a smugglers pass.

“Yeah. We’ll get back onto the road at this city. It’s large enough that it’s actually named too.”

“What’s it called?” Verona asked as she mounted her horse.

“Sa’leem,” Kal replied. “It doesn’t say how big it is but it looks like about half the size of Porswea. Though I’m just guessing that.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

Anton mounted his horse and made sure everyone else was ready before they started to move. Luna sat in the pack next to his leg, her head resting on the edge, and looked slightly better. He hoped he would come across a small farm by dusk. But the name of the city lingered in the back of his mind, unable to dislodge itself no matter how hard he tried to shake away a niggling sense of anxiety and worry.

Chapter 98. Vol 3 - Break Away

Chapter 98:

Anton’s backside hurt from the long days of hard riding. They rode at a brisk pace and were now on a stone road, after spending a few days in the countryside after travelling through the Griffin Pass, but it was starting to take its toll. He had some soft cloth underneath the rough saddle but it wasn’t enough to take away the constant jolting and rocking back and forth. That and his legs felt slightly numb whenever they stopped. If anything he felt they were starting to bow.

Verona and Kal were doing well and enjoying the scenery. While Verona simply enjoyed the adventure, not so much avoiding the small groups of Goblins and Ghlotsm they stumbled across, Kal was slowly growing more agitated. Every day was another day closer to Rusaddir and the Seocurian capital, Danafra, and her mother’s freedom. She kept it hidden well but every now and again a mixture of excitement and nervousness would burst through. Cetina was getting better as well. She hadn’t turned to drink again, even when they stopped at some small countryside towns, and had a smile on her face more often. She occasionally played and fidgeted with her eyepatch but Kal had adjusted it and made more comfortable. However, her lack of depth perception was a serious issue, doubly so when she used a sword and shield to fight. She bobbed her head about as she fought to simulate depth perception but it wasn’t that good. Still, it would put an opponent on edge to see such a tall soldier moving about so strangely.

A squeak near his leg caught his attention. Luna sat in the pack beside his leg, her head poking out and observing the world as it went past. She hadn’t tried to escape, for today at least, and appeared content to sleep for most of the day. That and eat. She had a ferocious appetite, almost as large as Verona’s, and would not hesitate to drink milk no matter the time. They found a farm a few hours before dusk, a farm with dozens of goats and even a few cows. Understandably the farmer had been dubious at their stated intention to just buy milk, they were heavily armed and Kal’s mask threw their thoughts, but once money was offered he came around. Kal’s Cold Stone, as Verona dubbed it, sat in the bottom of a large water skin, wrapped in a thick cloth to protect the horse from any contact damage. The milk was always kept cold and had lasted for several days so far and looked like it would last for a little while longer yet. They could make more to bring enough with them on their trip to Danafra.

Luna nuzzled at his leg again, her doey eyes trying to convey something important. Perhaps she just wanted to be played with or wanted to run around. Thankfully she appeared housetrained and made a lot of noise the last time she needed to go and this wasn’t like that. Anton reached down and scratched behind her ears. Her squeak deepened before she slunk back down into the pack with only her eyes and nose peeking out.

“There’s a sign.” Verona, who led their little convoy, shouted back. “What does it say?”

Kal leant forward. “Sa’leem. Five miles. Looks like it is sitting between the gaps in the mountains.”

A mountain range had slowly grown in the distance as they followed the road. The tops were not covered in snow but it looked almost impossible to traverse. Several times he was certain he had seen something moving around the peaks, maybe small dragons or even griffons. That would make the seemingly unnatural pass the only safe way through.

“Awesome. We can get some good food and give our horses a moment to rest too.” Verona looked back to Kal. “How many arrows do you have?”

“Not as many as I’d like. I guess I could make some but they wouldn’t be as good as an arrow made by a fletcher. Someone that knows what they’re doing.”

“You can actually make arrows? That’s…You’re making me feel a little jealous right now.” Verona slowed to move alongside Kal, with Anton on the far side.

“Why?”

“You know why.” Verona lightly kicked Kal, who returned it. They both laughed and looked at Anton. “Anyway, do we stop at this town for anything more or do we keep on moving?”

“Let me check the map.” Anton leant forward, Luna licked his leather armour as it passed, and rummaged in the pack for the roll of paper. He glanced back to Cetina and she increased her speed to come alongside. “Cetina, what about your shield? Do you want to see about getting it fixed here?”

“I don’t know if they can. It isn’t made just from Iron. If it was I could get a good smith to fix it but it’s not. Besides, it still works just as well.”

“It just has a massive dent in it,” Verona added.

Cetina smiled weakly and nodded. “True. But it’s not broken.”

Anton retrieved and unfurled the map. While his attention was focused on the sheet of paper he wasn’t watching where he was going. He trusted his horse to follow the others and not do something stupid. All had been very well behaved so far.

“According to the map after we get through Sa’leem, if they don’t have another checkpoint thing going on, there’s a whole bunch of small towns on the other side. They don’t have names but they’re marked. One of those is bound to have an Inn that we can stay in.”

“A bed!” Verona cheered. “Sleeping underneath the stars is all well and good but I do want a soft bed every now and again.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be as good as The Orange Haven,” Anton said, Verona dramatically let her excitement deflate. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten that we should get one for ourselves. But hopefully better than the one at Soulthor.”

“That wasn’t too bad.” Kal looked at him. “The bed was clean…Though there were the Mole Rats.”

“What?” Cetina asked.

Anton explained what happened when they arrived at the small border town of Soulthor, omitting their run-in with the Ancient Listener cult. She sighed and shook her head.

“Of course you did.” She chuckled. “After what you did to those Demon’s I’m not surprised.”

“By the way.” Verona began. “I haven’t heard anyone talking about them yet. Are we just too fast for word to travel?”

“I think so. But it’ll spread quickly, it’s something everyone would want to talk about, even if they’re trying to hide it. We might be just ahead of it. Hopefully, we won’t be dragged into anything. None of the stories, so far, have our description.”

Anton looked forward. The road only had the odd traveller and trader but ahead two more roads merged and the traffic increased by an order of magnitude. Anyone wishing to get through the mountains would need to come through the city. Anton made sure that Kal was in the middle and she pulled her hood down low. Her mask, while hiding her Beast-kin heritage, did raise other questions and the occasional long stare. Those were much better than a lynching.

They joined with the small stream of traders and travellers and made quick progress towards the gap in the mountain range. Several small trails of smoke rose into the air. Signs of civilisation. Kal reached and tapped on Anton’s elbow.

“Something’s wrong.” She said quietly. “The people passing us. Just look at their faces.”

The other side of the road was filled with far fewer people, so few that their column threatened to spill out and take over the whole road. When Anton actually looked at their faces he felt something was wrong. While they weren’t haggard they were almost dazed, there was something that haunted their every thought. Not enough to scare or terrify but something deeply upsetting. Anton caught the eye of one and he only looked sorry, sorry that they would have to experience whatever they just fled from.

Anton leant forward and got Verona’s attention. “You might want to pull your hood down too and hide your hair.” Verona followed his instruction but looked a little confused. “Something’s going on and we don’t want anyone to get wound up because they see that silver and think you’re a Clansmen.”

“Right.” Verona sighed as she tucked it underneath her helmet. “Shitasses. I just want to have my hair out.”

Kal checked herself over, just in case, as the city came into view. A large and tall wooden wall extended from one side of the gap in the mountain to the other. Soldiers, wearing the same attire as Lord Umbris’s soldiers at the bridge, patrolled the top and several riders patrolled outside. The walls hid most of the city but several rooftops peeked over, black and red slate rooves looked like small gnome hats above the brown wooden wall. Anton caught the eye of someone that just passed through the gate. The slightly haunted and troubled look was far more intense. Something was very wrong here. Anton noted to keep an eye out and get through the city as fast as possible.

Thankfully the gates were open and everyone was allowed inside. The guards didn’t concern themselves with checking every cart that went through, they barely batted an eye as they passed. Bandits must have been far less of an issue here than in Cassius’s territory.

Once inside he immediately felt like he was back in Porswea, sort of. There was an immediate wave of human activity but it was nowhere near as dense. A central road ran through the middle of the city, easily fifty meters wide. No market stalls or shops of any kind lay on this road. Beyond the road, defined by a thick line of deep red stones in the road, stood the shops and stalls that he remembered. The criers and owners shouted to the passing crowd, their signs and banners all jostling for exposure, but none were willing to pass the red line. If anything they were taking great care not to.

Anton nodded for them to peel away from the column and stop in a clear section of the wide road.

“This is different,” Verona said. “They really want to cross that red line to get to us.”

“Yeah.”

Anton looked more closely at the market stalls. Small groups of soldiers spent all their attention looking along the bricks. When a crier took a step past the line the soldiers moved towards him. He immediately backed away and threw his hands up in apology. The guards nodded and returned to their original position.

“Guess that answers that.”

“Just to keep it clear?” Verona asked. “Seems a little extreme.”

“This is the only way through that mountain range,” Kal replied. “They’d want to keep it clear so they could move an army through quickly.” Verona nodded. “At least, that’s what I’d think they’re doing it.”

“Let’s go find somewhere we can get more supplies and find ourselves a fletcher,” Anton said. “I don’t want to stay in this place for long.”

“I smell someone cooking good food.” Verona nodded towards one of the larger market stalls. “Seems like a good place to start.”

Verona didn’t wait for their response and whipped her reins. Anton and Kal sighed while Cetina looked confused between the two.

Anton smiled at Cetina. “She can think with her stomach at times.”

“I thought men were supposed to do that,” Cetina said very quietly as they followed Verona.

They dismounted before they approached the market stall and kept their horses and valuables close. The number of people wasn’t as great as Porswea but there was every chance that thieves and pickpockets could be lurking in every corner. Verona had already reached the stall and purchased five meat kebabs, all bursting with juices and bursting with flavour. He knew that Verona wanted to devour them right there but held herself back.

“Here you go, everyone.” Verona handed one to each of them, keeping two to herself. Luna sniffed at Anton’s and sneezed loudly. Kal tilted her head when she looked at the food.

“Umm...Kal, just come close to me.” Anton said. “Just pull your cloak down and it’ll be fine.”

Kal moved between them and lifted her mask enough so she could eat. With her hood pulled tight, she ate as quickly as possible. She licked her lips and refastened her mask. Anton looked around. No one had noticed.

“Thanks.” She said. “Excellent choice, Verona.”

Verona smiled and began eating both of hers at once. The food was delicious but Anton stopped when a small group of guards approached them.

“Excuse me.” The guard spoke loudly. “I’m afraid that you can’t eat here.”

“I’m sorry?” Anton looked around. “But we’ve only just arrived…”

The guard nodded and gestured to the red brick line. “All business needs to be conducted beyond that line.”

“But we’re eating?” Cetina replied, throwing up a black brow. Verona agreed though she eyed off Cetina’s half eaten food with ravenous eyes.

“These aren’t my rules. I just enforce them.”

“And who is that?” Anton asked.

“Lord Umbris’s designated Regent of Sa’leem. Father Hathorne. He has enforced the old rulings relating to trade and safe passage through the city.” Annoyance flickered over his face. “And that Judgments can be done in full display.”

“Right…Well, we’ll move over the line then.” Anton led his horse forward, quickly followed by the girls.

“Thank you.” The guard replied. He began to return to his post when Anton stopped him.

“By the way, do you know of a fletcher in this town? We are a little short on arrows.”

“There’s one back there.” The guard pointed towards the northern mountain. The city expanded up the mountain as the buildings became smaller and poorer. “Look for a bundle of arrows on a sign in front of a building. Just follow that path. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Thanks-”

Bells began to ring. Giant bells. The deep ringing reverberated across the city and silenced the noise of the people. The people passing through the city looked confused while the residents looked on with equal numbers terrified and delighted.

“Fucking hell.” The guard grumbled.

Before they could ask the guards ran towards the sound of the bell. It came from the southern side of the mountain, from a very tall building made from white stone. A large window sat at the very top, just underneath a black slate roof trimmed with gold. A giant golden cross, with an upside-down crescent on the bottom half of the cross, sat just underneath the roof. The ringing flooded the entire city with its deep reverberation.

“Should we just go?” Verona asked.

“I don’t like the sound of it either.” Anton looked up the street the guard gestured to. “I think I can see the building he was talking about. How about we go there, buy a bunch of arrows and then get out of here? We’ll get more supplies at the next city.”

“I-”

A loud groaning noise interrupted Kal. Anton heard the clamour and cries of people from both ends of the city. The huge wooden gates were closing and people were desperate to get out. The gates were quickly closed and sealed by massive pieces of wooden bars. Everyone was trapped inside. Guards filled out and stood in front of the gate, preventing anyone from approaching.

“Come on. If something stupid is about to happen we need have all the weapons we can get.”

---[]---

Buying over a hundred new arrows was a surprisingly quick and painless affair. The Fletcher, according to Cetina, offered a good price and threw in a thick sack to carry them all in. When Anton asked about the bells and guards he remained quiet, an odd look of shame on his face. Since he wasn’t going to give up anything Anton paid him and they returned to the central street.

Where there was once a busy street, full of bustling trade behind the red brick line, now a large wooden platform stood in the middle surrounded by nearly everyone in the city. Young, old, rich and poor had gathered. Anton looked back to see the stalls were abandoned but not empty. Everything remained where it was, anything relating to cooking had been snuffed out, and several guards stood well behind the crowd. When they caught Anton looking towards the empty stalls they shot him an evil glare. He turned his gaze away and towards the central platform, out of his peripheries they relaxed and looked towards the centre. The platform stood well over two meters above the heads of the people. From what Anton could see from the ground it looked to be a simple and light portable construction that could be carried to position. What worried Anton the most was the beam that ran along the middle. Three people, in plain white robes, a simple brown rope tied around their waist, threw a thick rope over the beam. Anton saw the noose swaying in the breeze. For a moment the thought they had been discovered flashed through his mind but when he saw three nooses his panic eased. They were clearly travelling in a group of four…

“I think we’re going to have to wait for this to play out,” Anton said quietly. “Though I get the feeling that we aren’t going to like what happens next.”

“Who are they going to kill?” Verona asked.

A person near the back of the group turned around. His eyes were nonchalant and held no malice. Anton seized the brief opportunity.

“Excuse me, but what’s happening here?”

The man said nothing and turned away. Verona huffed and held Anton’s hand.

“No need to be rude.” She said very softly.

A rising cheer emanated from the crowd as someone came from the south. The cheers grew, people jumped for a look, as a man walked onto the platform. The cheer became a roar as a man stepped into view. Hundreds of people cheered and clapped but Anton saw a good many were silent and completely still.

The man upon the stage looked very similar to the other three. A clean-shaven young to middle-aged man wearing nothing more than a white robe, though his belt had a golden ornate working on the tassel. He raised both his hands and the crowd began to quieten.

“Oh no,” Cetina said. She nodded towards the man. “That’s a priest of the Holy Father. And he looks like he’s pretty high ranking.”

“How bad is that?” Anton asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them wear something so plain before. They never wore anything like that in Bebbezzar.”

“Maybe it’s a breakaway group, different from those in Bebbezzar and Qaiviel,” Anton replied. “Religions tend to do that given enough time and distance.”

The priest raised his hands again and the crowd slowly calmed. He waited until everything was utterly silent, the loudest noise were from the horses next to them breathing.

“Brothers and Sisters!” he voice boomed over the silent crowd. “We gather today to deal with the most hateful of Sinners.”

The crowd erupted into another cheer until the priest raised his hands once again.

“Though I know, good people of Sa’leem, that while you walk in the light of the most gracious Holy Father, there are those that seek not to earn his favour and redemption, nor even just to spit on his name by ignoring his eternal and unending care and love.”

“I’ve heard this sort of stuff before,” Anton said softly. Verona and Kal looked at him but he didn’t elaborate.

The priest shook one of his hands into the air, while the three other priests checked the nooses. “No. There are some that seek to destroy everything that we have built with the vile sins they inflict on themselves. Sins that attract the demons that have ravaged the lands to the east.”

The crowd burst into heated discussion. Very quickly the priest sought to bring things under control.

“Oh, I guess they have heard.”

Let’s see what they actually have to say about it…

“Beings of condensed sin have been born into the world near the lands of the heretical clansmen, slaying innocent and guilty alike.”

Here we go…

“The sins of the people of Graterious, of the Shattered Kingdoms, have begun to spill into the Real!” He threw his hands into the air. “But fear not! Fair people of Sa’leem, for we have ways to appease the Holy Father and forbid such monstrosities from ever setting foot on our fair lands.”

He waved to his priests. With the help of a few guards, they dragged three people onto the platform. Two men and one woman. They wore almost nothing and looked dirty, tired and beaten. Even from their distance, he could see the red marks from beatings and whips. All three were delirious and needed the three priests to hold and guide them.

The murmurs grew in the crowd once again. “These three, who once lived amongst you, have committed great and numerous sins. But fear not, for their souls will receive the Holy Father’s blessing once they leave this cruel and heartless world. Praise be to the Holy Father!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, under marked by boos and jeers at the three.

“Are they serious?” Verona asked. She looked over the crowd. “They’re actually going to kill them?”

“Seems like it. Most of the crowd seems in on it.”

Anton saw that amongst those remaining silent a majority were traders.

The three were moved to the gallows and noses pulled tight against their necks. They struggled but a few quick strikes to their stomachs, forcing them to convulse and pulling tight on the noose, stopped any resistance.

The head priest stood in front of the woman, turned to his side and pointed at her. “The woman that you knew as Mollie has confessed to adultery. A terrible crime, with this man here, Theo.”

The crowd booed and some threw rocks and scraps of food. The priest dogged the strikes and stood to the side as he allowed the two to be pelted. He smiled as the crowd grew in anger and rage. A large rock flew from the crowd and struck the man’s head. Blood spurted from his mouth, showering a nearby white-robed priest. The priest looked down in disgust but the head priest waved for the crowd and the priest to calm.

“Do not worry fair people, for they will meet their justice soon enough.”

The head priest moved to the final man. He appeared to be the most coherent. And defiant. His face bristled with anger and hatred but something within him held him back from lashing out like a wild maniac.

“And you.” The priest looked the man over. “I expected better from you.” He smiled as he turned to the crowd. “While these two may have indulged in one another despite being promised to another, you…You have laid with Beasts!”

The crowd silenced for a moment before turning to anger once again. Anton almost wanted to roll his eyes at the accusation.

If they found out about Kal they would definitely say the same thing. And if they knew about Verona…

The head priest raised his hand for the crowd to silence as the man desperately tried to speak but the crowd was simply too loud.

“Silence!” The Head Priest shouted over the crowd, instantly dimming the noise. “We are not the simple creatures that he prefers. Let him speak. It’ll be the last thing he has to say before receiving the everlasting love and redemption of the Holy Father.”

Only when silence settled over the crowd do the man speak. “Fuck you and your ridiculous shit. I didn’t fuck that bear and you know it. You all fucking know it. If you don’t stand up for yourselves now they will keep taking everything until you have nothing left.”

The crowd remained silent. The man continued with his last words.

“The only reason you, and the rest of your little sycophants, want me dead is so that you can take my land. Since you lot became in charge twelve people have been killed like this. And all their land and property now belongs to the Church. Do you think that everyone is so fucking stupid to not see it?”

The man spat at the Head Priest. The mixture of blood and spit landed in one of his eyes. He recoiled but held his ground. The Head Priest wiped away and looked at the crowd. His words had struck some deep chord within and rattled his seeming confidence and charisma. The crowd noticed it too, already they were beginning to whisper amongst themselves. Doubt and troubling thoughts were beginning to surface in the crowd.

“Enough of your vile words, you filthy heretic.” He clapped his hands and a priest moved to the edge of the gallows. The head priest turned to the crowd and raised both of his hands. “Brothers and Sisters! I ask that you pray for their souls as we deliver them to the Holy Father, cleansed of their mortal sins and allowed to bask in his radiance.”

The crowd immediately stopped their whispering and began chanting something over and over.

Cetina shook her head. “It was never like this back home. They got weird at times but nothing like this.”

“Are we going to let this happen?” Verona asked very softly.

“There’s not much we can do,” Anton said. “We might be able to save them but how do we get out of here without having them chase us? And what do we do with those three?”

“I know…”

Anton held Verona’s free hand. He could tell that she was angry. “We can’t save everyone, even if we want to.”

“I know…”

The chanting grew in volume until it reached a fevered pitch. The head priest swung his arm down and the three dropped. Everything went silent as they fell, the sounds of snapping bones reverberated throughout the air. The bodies twitched and spasmed for a moment before the crowd cheered once again. Anton felt a little ill at their eagerness to hang the three, even though it appeared there was only hearsay for their crimes.

The head priest left the platform along with his three followers. The one covered in blood scowled at the stain as he followed at the rear. Slowly the crowd dispersed as the city guard moved forward and collected the bodies. The woman was somehow still alive. A guard plunged his dagger into her heart and silenced her forever. They slumped the bodies over their shoulders and travelled towards the south. Another group of soldiers moved forward and carried the empty gallows platform out of the central street. Everyone turned away and returned to their everyday lives like they hadn’t just executed three people with dubious levels of guilt. Anton caught the eye of the man he asked for information earlier. His empty eyes, devoid of the joy of life, told him that he wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

The gates rumbled open and a large stream of people entered from both sides. Their annoyed faces knew nothing of what had just transpired.

“Let’s get out of here before anything else happens,” Anton said as they mounted their horses and moved to the eastern gate.

“I think it’s best that we stay away from the cities again,” Kal said. “I don’t want to see that again.”

Anton leant over and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. I think we all deserve a little drink after that.”

Luna sneezed at his leg, she had been silent the entire time. Anton rubbed he head as they hurried out of the madness of Sa’leem.

---[]---

No one spoke for some time. They were all just glad to be rid of that awful town. Compared to the normal travellers they rode much faster. Anton didn’t want to spend the night too close to that town, and the other travellers and traders simply trailed away.

“What a place,” Anton said loudly. Verona and Kal looked at him. “Thank all the gods that we didn’t have to stay there the night.”

Luna sneezed loudly. Anton leant down and scratched her head.

“Or a moment longer.” Verona shook her head. “I think we could have made it out of there if they decided to have a look at us…”

“They’re not like the people I knew,” Cetina said quietly. “They weren’t like that…I don’t know what’s wrong with them.”

“Maybe so far away from the centre of power they’ve grown more radical,” Anton replied. “At least that’s what I’m guessing what happened. Either that or they’re acting just like that last man said, just using their religion to take stuff from others. Either way, its shit.”

“What a place to live…” Verona rubbed her stomach. “I know this might not be the best time but I feel hungry. Again. I think I need to eat something to calm me down.”

“At least your appetite hasn’t diminished.” Anton teased.

Verona stuck out her tongue and lightly punched his side. He laughed and retaliated, Verona, laughed even more before steering her horse away slightly. Anton looked at Kal and saw she was slightly jealous. He reached over and gently squeezed her hand.

“The next town…” Anton reached into a pack and pulled out a map. “The next town is probably an hour or so away. And I don’t know if it’s going to be another crazy place again.”

“We should probably stick to the roads as much as we can then,” Verona said. “So we can get to Rusaddir as quickly as possible. Though we’ll need to get some more milk for Luna.”

Luna squeaked at her name being spoken. Anton leant down and scratched her head again.

“We should find somewhere off the road where no one’s going to spot us if we’re going to have a snack.” Anton looked at Kal. “Somewhere where you can take your mask off for a bit. And actually have some fresh air and sun on your face.”

“Somewhere without Ghlotsm too.” Kal snidely added.

Anton smiled. He didn’t want to have to deal with those monsters either. Were they related to Goblins? He hadn’t seen them together but it didn’t mean they didn’t attack each other on sight. If the Ghlotsm laid eggs rather than live birth their numbers should be large enough to simply smother the countryside. He didn’t want to think any more about those things than he needed to.

Verona raised her hand to shield her eyes. “I see something ahead that looks a bit like that. One of those travelling stop points. And there’s a fence around it too, so it should take those monsters a bit to get in.”

“Anyone there already?”

“No.” Kal moved her mask to the side. “There’s no one there. And…I can’t see anyone ahead on the road either.”

“Strange.” Anton shrugged. “Maybe there’s another of those checkpoints ahead.”

“Do you think they’re looking for us?” Cetina asked as they approached the campsite.

“I don’t think so. Four travellers probably isn’t a major concern. Especially when they’ve got a gang of criminals to worry about.”

“We could still be criminals.” Verona pointed out as they stopped. “Just four criminals rather than a whole gang.”

“Perhaps. But they’ve got a lot more to worry about than just us.”

A brewing civil war for one. I wonder what Lord Umbris has to worry about compared to Cassius? Maybe it’s just the Church of the Holy Father that’s a thorn in his side. He did lose his son as Cassius lost his daughter. Maybe the radical elements got into his head when he was mourning?

Anton had no answer as he dismounted his horse. The girls quickly followed and stretched out their legs. It felt good to not be sitting on, what was essentially, a large warm barrel. Verona slapped her legs as he and Kal brought out some food.

“Do we want a fire?” Cetina asked, pointing to a small blackened circle in the centre of the space. A few pieces of wood had been left to the side by a previous traveller, something one probably did while travelling through Graterious.

“Yeah, actually. A fire would be good. But I think that I’ll light it. Your pieces of flint weren’t that good, if I remember correctly.”

Cetina frowned as she opened the small pouch on her hips. She had kept the two pieces of flint, which looked somehow odd and soft and rotten, probably just because she had forgotten to discard them. She juggled the two pieces in her hands, both clinking lightly. She looked at them and sighed.

“These darn things…”

Cetina gripped her hands tight before throwing the pieces far into the woods. They smacked into a tree and disappeared into the forest. Cetina took a deep breath and smiled at them. She seemed a little happier.

“I’ll get some wood.” Cetina brought her horse to one of the many poles rammed into the ground. It appeared every spot had these stumps.

“I’ll help,” Kal said as she tied up her horse’s reins. “You shouldn’t go into the forest alone. You don’t know what’s out there.”

“Okay.” Cetina smiled faintly as they walked to the edge of the clearing.

Anton saw many large branches lying just beyond the wooden fence. He didn’t want either of them to go too far from his sight. With the ever-present threat of Goblins and Ghlotsm, it didn’t make him feel good for them to go too far. Verona grunted as she held her and gyrated hips.

“I think something light would be best.” Verona rummaged through the packs on her horse. Of course, she had taken all the packs of food for herself.

“I think we might be able to get some fresh meat if we want. So long as Kal’s willing to gut them.” Verona chuckled as she scratched her hands. “I don’t think I’m ready to handle that much blood by myself yet. I’ve only watched her do it, never done it myself.”

Anton held her shoulder as Verona pulled out a large wrapped piece of dried meat. “Is it getting any worse?”

“Not yet.” Verona smiled and pulled him down for a quick kiss. “But I’ll let you know the moment something happens. I haven’t forgotten what I said.”

“And I haven’t forgotten having to shoot you with my lightning.”

“Yeah.” Verona winced and looked away. “I don’t want to think about that.” She hadn’t forgotten either.

A loud squeak caught their attention. Luna, still tucked safely in her pack, was desperately trying to crawl out. Her small hooves desperately tried to lift herself out but she wasn’t strong enough. There was also the meter odd drop afterwards but she wasn’t worried about that. Anton was secretly glad she had started making a noise. Verona pulled out a few pieces of bread as Anton lifted Luna out of the pack. Her hind legs, those of a bird, kicked violently and scratched at his wrist armour.

“What’s wrong?” Anton asked as he put her down. “Do you need to go?”

Luna, despite being no older than a few days, trotted a few paces away before she urinated.

“House trained,” Anton asked himself as Verona came to his side, already nibbling on a piece of meat. “It’s impressive if nothing else.”

When Luna was finished she scampered back to Anton and Verona, pawing her front hooves between them until Anton picked her up.

“She’s probably hungry as well,” Verona mumbled. Anton turned to see her face stuffed with food. He pinched her cheek as she tried to move away but she wasn’t fast enough. She chuckled as she swallowed the food. “How much milk do we have left?”

“Enough for now. But we’ll need to get quite a bit for the trip to Danafra. A small barrel or two.” Anton, holding a very active Luna in his arm, walked to Kal’s horse and touched the water-skin of milk. “Well, it looks like the cold stone’s still doing its work.”

“Kal’s right.” Verona began. He looked back and she stopped herself from taking another bite. “These would make us enough money to buy all the Beast-kin slaves we could want.”

“True. I just wonder how they make these normally.”

“Do you think this is enough?” Cetina asked as she and Kal dropped a large bundle of wood next to the fire pit.

“That’ll be more than enough,” Anton said as they approached. “I’m sure that I could actually just make a flame and just cook it on that. But that seems like cheating.”

“That would be interesting.” Kal looked along the pathway and moved her mask to the side, just enough to reveal her mouth. “You’ve already done something like that before. I remember in Mount Aspire, when we were heading beneath it you used a magic flame rather than a torch. Though you did something with our eyes so we could see in the dark.”

“I did…” Anton shook his head. “Then there was that door as well.”

Kal slowly nodded while Cetina looked on confused.

“A story for another time.” Anton clapped his hands. “But we should have something to eat first.”

Cetina knelt down and arranged the wood into a small pile. Anton lit the fire with a small wisp of flame. Within a few moments the wood was burning and they all sat down around the flame. Verona sat on his right and Kal on his left, Kal leaning heavily onto his shoulder, while Cetina sat beside Verona. Luna nestled herself between Cetina and Verona. Cetina smiled as she scratched Luna’s ears and she let out small pleasant squeaks.

As Verona cut and skewered the meat, holding it over the open fire, Kal became increasingly restless. She kept looking back to the road, her hands gripping tight on his legs.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know.” Kal sounded quite distressed. “But...There were people behind us.”

“And?” Verona asked as she handed a large piece of meat to Cetina. Her eyes lit up at the size of the portion being offered.

“They should have caught up by now.” Kal shook her head. “And where are the people coming the other way? There was always someone on the road.”

Anton felt a creeping sense of dread. He hadn’t really noticed it until now but Kal was right. Someone should have passed by now, even if it was just a single person.

“Cetina? Get your sword.” Cetina nodded and rose at his words. “Just in case.”

Cetina quietly walked to her warhorse and took her blade and shield. Kal shuffled and took her bow and checked her quiver. Verona took some blood from Anton. He didn’t know if he was being paranoid but it was better to be safe than sorry. Cetina returned to the fire with her sword drawn. They scanned their surroundings but he couldn’t see anything moving. Not even the small rabbits and critters that always darted through the short grass.

“That smells delicious.” A voice came from the forest. It was old and scratchy, something about it familiar. “Do you have any delicious food to offer to an old woman like myself?”

Anton turned to the source. From behind a small tree an old woman, covered in tattered clothes, emerged. White and stringy hair poked out from underneath a long hood, a toothy smile barely visible.

“Did you find the village?” The old woman asked as she approached, a gnarled wooden cane emerging from a fold of cloth. “I’m assuming you did, since you’re here now.”

Cetina took a step in front of Anton and raised her shield. The old woman raised her head. Milky white eyes stared at him before they flickered to Cetina. She cocked her head and frowned.

“Well, it seems you have another companion. Quite an odd one.” The old woman chuckled. “But were my words true? You did find Soulthor?”

“We did,” Anton replied. “It was an interesting few days but it was better than sleeping in the wilderness. Especially with the Mole-Rats.”

“I thought that was her,” Verona whispered.

“Mole rats…” The old woman looked away, a wistful look graced her face. “How very strange. But you survived them. Obviously.”

“Yes…” Verona trailed off. “Still wasn’t fun.”

“Not for a Blood Berserker who wants to retain her sanity, no.”

The old woman slowly approached them. Like the last time, she appeared to need the cane to walk but Anton saw it didn’t always press down very hard on the grass. It was just for show. Maybe. She reached the wooden fence and sighed. She raised her cane and touched the horizontal beams and they broke, sliding down to the ground and allowing her passage. Anton swore he saw the tiniest hint of a green flash when the wood broke. He looked to Kal but she didn’t say anything or give him any sign she had seen. Thankfully, if what he saw was real, Cetina hadn’t seen. He chanted a prayer in his mind to grant him immunity to Strega magic, not knowing if it would work.

“There we go.” The old woman chuckled. “I almost bumped into that. There are some things that are difficult for me to see.”

“I’m surprised you can see anything,” Verona said quietly.

She nodded. “True. I cannot see how you do. No colours…But I can see so much more now.”

“Do you want some food?” Anton asked, the girls glancing oddly at him. “Last time you said you hadn’t eaten in some time. Is that true this time as well?”

The old woman smiled. “No one would give me anything more than an angry glance. Some even tried to strike me. I mean, look at me. I’m just a tired, old and blind woman. Why would they care about me?”

Anton made a small collection of their food with the second largest piece of cooked meat they had. Again Verona used her blood to pass it to the old woman. He didn’t want to get too close to her just yet. Her white eyes widened as Verona dropped the plate in her hands. She smiled and began to devour the food like a starved wolf.

“What is this?” Cetina asked, a deep frown on her face.

“I’m not entirely sure myself. Just, keep your distance and don’t do anything stupid.”

Cetina nodded furiously and looked back to the woman. At least she hadn’t seen the flash of green.

With the food gone the old woman wiped her mouth with her sleeve and let out a loud burp.

“That. That was incredibly rude of me. But…you do have some of the best food I’ve been given in a long time.”

She held out the plate for Verona to take.

“So…What brings you to meet with us again?” Anton asked. “You said that we would meet after we’ve….”

Anton looked along the road. Still, there was no one, nor any sign someone was approaching.

Like we’re stuck in our own little world.

“Done our thing.”

The old woman nodded. “Yes. And I’m glad that you’re continuing your little quest to free Beast-kin slaves. Very nasty what’s happening to them up in Seocuria and I’m glad that someone’s trying to help them. At long last. Well, more than just one.” She smiled at Kal. “Tethra wouldn’t have blessed you so if your motives were impure. Especially a mixed.”

“You…” Kal gripped her hands tight. “Last time you called me a…an Orison Templar.”

The old woman nodded.

“Why? What does it mean?”

“Simply that you are a devout follower of Tethra and have earned her favour. Though, you didn’t have her power when we first met. Just a lingering touch. Though that has changed, hasn’t it?”

Kal frowned and retreated behind Anton’s body. The old woman chuckled and smiled.

“Yes. Quite a powerful glyph. Nonetheless, I’m impressed to see three people travelling with a mixed, humans too. Often times we aren’t the most tolerant of creatures.”

“No,” Kal replied. “But they are different.”

“That they are. That little jewel of yours tells me otherwise.”

Kal began to panic and held her ring finger tight. Even Verona’s hand trailed to her ring.

“Very impressive.” The old woman chuckled.

Anton didn’t need someone to congratulate him on bedding and marrying two women. She, whoever she was, didn’t come all this way just to congratulate him.

“But we still have to get to Seocuria.” Anton continued. “Then you said to meet you in…Kudur-”

“Koumore.” She answered for him. “You still have that map?”

“We do. But why are you here now?”

The old woman winced slightly. “I must apologise for my…inaction, during certain events.” She looked at Cetina. “There are things I should have looked into more thoroughly. And if I had things might have gone better for everyone involved. Especially you. Your father might not have died if I had been watching a little more carefully.”

“What?” Cetina could barely speak.

“I should have been keeping a better eye on you. Where you’re going and who you were travelling with.” The old woman sighed. “I spent all my time collecting tomes and artefacts for you that I didn’t check who you were travelling with. If I had I would have immediately seen those two for what they really were.”

Cetina made a step forward but Anton grabbed her shoulder hard. She flashed a look of anger back but it faded after a few short breathes.

“You could see what Eluria and Sancha were?” Anton asked. “Like you can see what powers we have?”

“Yes. The Strega witches have a smoky green aura. Very distinct.” The old woman chuckled. “They are lucky only a few beings in the world can see what I can. Their twisted forms cannot escape the sight. Otherwise, they would have already been hunted down.”

“One of the soldiers immediately knew what they were and ordered them killed,” Anton said. “Didn’t even hesitate.”

“As I said, they would have been hunted down by now.” She turned to Cetina. “Congratulations on killing one. That’s no small feat. And it looks like you managed to shrug off their magic’s too. That would explain why it’s so hard to see you.”

“Since she has an immunity to mana?” Anton asked. “Her…aura would be weak to you, wouldn’t it?”

“Sort of. More that her presence is weaker and that magic doesn’t affect her as easily, for better and for worse. That’s why their mind controlling curses didn’t work on you. Though I’m sure it still would have hurt somewhat.”

“I did have a terrible headache until Anton removed it,” Cetina said quietly.

“Yes…Tethra’s magic does have a lot of uses. Very versatile.”

“That it is,” Kal whispered to Anton.

“But I am here to express my condolences that I wasn’t able to stop them. And make sure that there isn’t any lingering taint of their magic. If there is they’ll be able to track you down very quickly.”

“How many are there then?” Cetina almost snarled the words out. “How many of those rotten things are out there.”

“At last count, there should be twelve Strega witches.” The old woman smiled. “Though now there’s only eleven. Again, congratulations on taking one down.”

“Sancha…She wasn’t really paying attention to me.” Cetina admitted. “I snuck up on her when she was distracted.”

“A kill is still a kill. But I can see that there is not taint amongst you. If they do decide to attack you, which they shouldn’t, it’ll take them some time to track you down. And they don’t know where your home is. So that’s safe.”

Anton felt his blood run cold. That was a thought that had constantly niggled at the back of his mind. But to hear it spoken aloud…

“That doesn’t really put me at ease. How am I supposed to know that someone that visits our home isn’t a Strega witch in disguise?”

“There are ways.” The old woman smiled warmly. “But I can assure you that the Strega Witches are focused elsewhere. All these little cults are always plotting and scheming something. Otherwise, what would they do with their days? And I know that Eluria is still heavily wounded, so you won’t be seeing her for some time.”

“I did cut off and shred her foot.” Verona chuckled. “Bitch was screaming pretty loud.”

The old woman laughed. “I bet she was. You Blood Berserkers do have a tendency to kill in such creative ways.”

Verona grunted and shuffled awkwardly.

“Well. Thank you for your words.” Anton frowned lightly. “I don’t think we actually know your name. Last time we were interrupted.”

“Ah, my apologies. It’s Ferula.” Ferula smiled. “Sometimes I forget simple things in my old age.”

“It seems that we meet you after running through some crazy cults.” Anton looked at the mountains. “I don’t know which one was worse.”

Verona and Kal groaned as they remembered the Ancient Listeners, the odd way they moved and talked. And the small child with the severed Goblin’s head. They hadn’t spoken a word about it since then.

“Oh…Oh.” Ferula chuckled. “Those Ancient Listeners are up to no good again, aren’t they?”

“We really don’t want to have to meet them again.” Verona shook her head, Cetina looked oddly at her. “Bunch of crazy people we met. Though I think they’re just as crazy as the Church of the Holy Father.”

“Them...” Ferula looked towards the distant city of Sa’leem, the mountains still visible in the distance. “Annoying people, aren’t they. Though it’s rather annoying that they are so stuck up and self-righteous all the time. Their god is even faker and a product of delusion than the Ancient Listeners.”

“Are you saying the Holy Father doesn’t exist?” Cetina asked.

Ferula faintly nodded. “I’m afraid so. Despite the words and screams of the Church…He doesn’t exist. He never has and never will. It’s just fantasy.”

“But…But I’ve seen their priests use magic.” Cetina furiously blinked her eyes. “And they were chanting hymns praising him…Just like Anton and Kal do when they use Tethra’s power. Then how…”

“I’m afraid it’s all a lie.”

Cetina’s shoulders drooped and her face fell.

The religion that her father followed so faithfully…All of it a lie…

Anton reached out and held her shoulder. She jumped at his touch but faintly smiled when she looked back. She gave a nod before looking back to a faintly grinning Ferula.

“But I’ve heard them as they worked…”

“They’re using the same principles that normal mages use.” Ferula moved towards the fire and sat down, with many groans and moans as she did. “They’re most famous for their healing arts. Tell me, do they always have a silver charm on them, in the shape of their cross? With a large white crystal in the centre of the cross with four small blue crystals around that?”

Cetina slowly nodded.

Ferula smiled. “They’re using the Principles of Life with a properly attuned charm. When they use their magic to heal…Think of it like using Tethra’s power to heal. Kind of. It’s a little difficult to explain without a proper teacher of the Principles of Life, which I am not, but suffice to say that The Church of the Holy Father combines their religious teachings with the Principles so most people, who don’t know any better, think that they’re actually using the power of the Holy Father. But there's no such being.”

“That would probably be enough to convince me if I was someone that knew nothing about magic.” Anton looked back to Sa’leem. “Any sort of magic, no matter how weak, is spectacular the first time you see it.”

Anton motioned for the others to sit. They followed his action, begrudgingly, and kept their weapons close. Luna scampered towards Anton and curled around his feet. Ferula glanced down and frowned at Luna.

“How did you manage to get one of them?” Ferula nodded at Luna. “A Peryton. They only live in the forests to the south of the Kar Kingdom…In Wood Elven lands no less.”

Anton picked Luna up and held her in his lap. “We found her in a place called Griffon Pass. Her mother had been killed by a Griffon, and killed it in the process, and she was the only one left of her…litter.” Anton shrugged. “And it felt bad just to leave her there.”

“She seems a little different to what I remember.”

“We…I cast a prayer on her to cut any ties she has to Nithroel. Just in case.” Anton scratched behind her ears. “We aren’t on very good terms with her.”

“It is just one so hopefully it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.” Ferula shifted her legs and rested her cane on her lap. “If she lives to become an adult she’ll be very strong. Far stronger than she would appear. And she’ll be able to fly as well.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to fly.” Verona smiled.

“I don’t want to fall to my death,” Kal added with a smirk.

“Me neither. But when you talked about the Principles of magic…We don’t know that much about normal magic.” Anton said. “We all use the power of the Old God’s Glyphs…”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Ferula began. “Instead of using the power of the Old Gods they use the charms to create magic. Forming their mana using the charm and then releasing it. If using the Old God’s power is instinctive, drawing power from the Old Gods, then using the Principles is using mathematics and formulas to create. Using the Principles requires a great level of control, especially compared to using the glyphs where you simply create magic, so anyone can’t just pick up a charm and use it. You could use one of the Church’s charms to cast fire or earth magic but it would be extremely dangerous. If you get it wrong it could explode and take your head off.”

That’s what Belinda said about her charm. At least it’s consistent.

“I’ve heard that before.” Anton smiled.

“One of the first things apprentice mages learn is to never use the wrong charm.”

Ferula chuckled. “Sorry. I don’t have the opportunity to talk about these sort of things so openly and without scorn and ridicule. As part of my agreement I have collected many tomes on how to use Principle Magic and Glyph Magic.” Ferula winced slightly. “However…I cannot bring them with me. My ability to move from one place to another…without drawing unnecessary attention is extremely limited. I can bring myself and that’s it.”

“Not even food?” Anton smiled.

“No.” Ferula chuckled. “Not even a piece of bread. Though I can bring my cane with me.”

“Is that your charm?” Kal asked.

Ferula shook her hand. “Not exactly. But it does help with my magic. There are many artefacts that can help cast magic, or simply increase your magical reserves. None of you really need that though.”

“We tried to get into the Magical Academy in Porswea but we were really running out of time.” Anton glanced at Cetina. “And we had other reasons to leave. Do you know where the other Academies are?”

Ferula frowned and rubbed her weathered chin. “In Lord Cassius’s lands, there’s only one. And that’s in Porswea. Lord Umbris and Vulusius have one each and Emperor Decius has three in the capital. I doubt you could get into any of them, looking like you are even now, but each Academy has a rivalry with each other. Being friendly with one won’t help you with another. Though they won’t hate you.”

“Is there anything there about our magic?” Verona asked, leaning forward.

“I’m not sure. I can’t go there, they don’t appreciate people just appearing out of thin air.” Ferula smiled. “Last time I did every one of those crotchety old fools actually started moving…”

“We really needed some guidance on our powers. I thought they would have some there but apparently, they were destroyed in a fire.”

“It’s possible. Probably a fire mage got a little too eager and burned down the building. But, as there haven’t been any followers of the Old Gods within the Academies for some time, it would have been forgotten but the Principles of Magic would have been rebuilt relatively quickly. So long as a master of each Principle survived.”

“We met three mages that seemed pretty tough,” Verona said. “A fire, water and iron mage. They seemed nice, though at the end they were a little strange.”

Ferula frowned for a moment, staring into the flame, before smiling back at them. “An Iron mage…Those are pretty rare. Not a very popular Principle.”

“How many Principles are there?”

“Quite a few. There are the larger schools, that’s what they call them within the academy, such as fire, water, life and earth. Then there are the smaller ones like the light and metal schools. That’s where your Iron mage comes from. Then there are those that...don’t officially exist. The most notable would be death.”

“Necromancy?” Anton asked. “Bringing back the dead?”

“You can do that?” Cetina asked.

“I’m afraid that it doesn’t work that way.” Ferula sighed. “Finding and bringing back a soul from beyond the veil is extremely difficult and painful. For both the soul and the caster. I’ve seen casters die from trying to bring back one. And the spirit wasn’t exactly having a good time either.”

“Oh…”

“But it must work otherwise it wouldn’t be popular.” Anton continued as Cetina slumped into herself. “Even rarely.”

“What I was talking about before was trying to bring someone specific back. If you wanted to raise some skeletons or zombies…or worse things, you don’t need to worry about that. But one would need incredible strength of mind and mana just to maintain them in some semblance of order.”

“I wouldn’t be particularly happy if someone brought me back to fight in a skeleton.”

“Exactly. Every moment the skeleton, or whatever they are, is trying to attack the conjurer. And that takes its toll. The greatest necromancer that I can remember was when the Shattered Kingdom was still united. That was a long time ago…”

“And if the Strega Witches are hunted down then Necromancers…”

“If they’re smart they don’t do something like raise an entire graveyard full of skeletons and zombies. That gets attention very quickly. And some people that hunt mages are extremely good at their job.”

“Yes…Another reason why I don’t want to attract too much attention.”

Anton looked at the road. Still, no one had passed them by. “I’m guessing there’s magic beyond the Principles of Magic, as you call them, and the powers of the Old Gods? Like magic that can put us into our own little world where no one has passed us for some time?”

Anton took another look along the road. The travellers they had passed just before reaching the stop. And still…

“Just a little spell of mine.” Ferula waved her hand. “They’re passing by but we’re not really of each other’s presence.”

Ferula picked her cane up and tapped it on the grass. Anton heard the sound of horse’s hooves trampling on stone. They looked back, Anton lowered Kal’s mask, and people were walking past but they looked like ghosts. None were looking towards them.

“That’s…neat,” Verona said. “I don’t feel any different though.”

“It’s not that sort of magic. You would only know something if you had these eyes. Or a very delicate understanding of the flows of magic. Which none of you do. For now at least…”

Ferula tapped her cane again and the ghostly figures disappeared.

“I came here to give my condolences and tell you that you don’t have to worry about the Strega Witches. If they move against you they’ll have to contend with me.” Ferula smiled a toothy grin. “And none of them are powerful enough for that.”

“Well…Thank you.”

Ferula bowed her head. “I can only offer my condolences at your father’s passing, but I have some advice for you. If you will hear me out.”

Cetina appeared surprised to be the centre of attention. She gave a small nod.

“I’m afraid that I will be blunt…but you will never wield magic. Your blood and the Ghlyirl infesting your head means you cannot control mana well enough to use magic.”

Cetina didn’t look that surprised or shocked at her words.

“Perhaps if I trained you for a winter, even at my hardest and most ruthless, you may be able to use a single spell once a day.”

“I thought that would be true.” Cetina shrugged. “But I’ve never fought with magic so I’m not worried.”

“Well...” Ferula trailed off.

“You mentioned her blood.” Anton leant forward. “She doesn’t have the same red hair and she has patches of blue through her black hair.”

Cetina’s idle hand reached for the patch of blue hair over her ear.

“That would explain a lot, even though I cannot see as you do.” Ferula scratched her chin and at the few wisps of white hair trailing down the side of her head. “That would mean that one of your ancestors comes from Eperios. That’s a long way from Bebbezzar, they couldn’t have come over the land…Over the sea then. That person must have been very brave to cross those waters.”

“She was.” Cetina smiled, a tear trailing down her face. “My mother said she came from there. And followed my father home to Bebbezzar.”

Ferula realised she had touched a nerve and her fingers scratched at her cane. “I’m sorry if I brought up something painful for you.”

“It’s fine.” Cetina sniffed. “You didn’t know.”

“Well, as I was saying, you will never be able to wield magic. But that doesn’t mean you are weak.”

“Certainly not,” Anton said. “I’ve seen her fight with her sword and it’s pretty terrifying.”

Especially when she does that zoning out thing. I wonder if that’s from her mother’s side.

Verona and Kal nodded in agreement, even Luna let a tiny squeak and a sneeze.

“The enemies that you face, Grand Mage, will become ever stronger. And they will not all be as easy as those you’ve fought so far. If the two Strega Witches had been ready you could very well be dead.”

“Well…We didn’t give them a chance to fight back. We just hit them with everything we had and hoped for the best.”

“Exactly. You won’t be able to do that against someone who is prepared and knows what they are doing. You’ll need something more. You need someone by your side that can deal with mages and magic easily. Someone that already has an immunity to magic.”

“So I need more Ghlyirl in me?” Cetina asked flatly.

“Not in you.” Ferula smiled. “I can’t say that having a huge amount of Ghlyirl in your body is a good thing. But I’m talking more about using Ghlyirl based weapons and armour. If you wielded weapons with enough of the metal you would be essentially immune to magic. A great bolt of lightning would simply scatter and fizzle out as it approached you.”

“Like some sort of Mage Hunter?” Verona asked.

“Exactly. Something you will need in the battles to come.”

“It sounds like it could be very useful.” Anton folded his arms. “Though I’ve got no idea where we could get such weapons. I don’t think Porswea had them and that’s one of the larger cities in Graterious.”

“Where you get such weapons I’ll leave to you. Just know that they’ll be very expensive and will draw attention.” Ferula smiled. “But please take it seriously. Seriously consider becoming a Mage Hunter. It is something that only you can do.”

“I’ll…I’ll think about it.” Cetina looked at Anton. “I’ve still got a lot to think about and I haven’t made my decision yet, but I will consider it.”

Ferula smiled as she shakily stood up. “I think you already have but please make sure that you fully understand who and what you’re getting involved with. There will be a point where you can’t turn back.”

Cetina nodded, strangely seriously, as Ferula fully stood up.

“I wish you all the best. Remember to come and see me when you are done in Seocuria.”

Ferula gave a final bow before hobbling towards the broken fence. Once she passed she used her cane to pick them up and back to their original position. Anton didn’t see the green flash this time.

Ferula gave a final wave as she approached the trees. “I will see you all soon.”

She hobbled past the trees and simply disappeared, her body moving past the trunks and not appearing on the other side. When she had completely disappeared the sounds of horses and people passing by returned. Anton quickly made sure that Kal’s mask was down before he looked towards the road. Ten people walked past and glanced towards them. Anton saw a strange look on their faces, one of confusion at their presence and the presence of the rest stop.

“Well, that was something.” Verona sighed. “One of you two should learn how to do that. So we can just move through the land without anyone seeing us.”

“That would be very useful,” Anton said. He turned to Kal. “Did you manage to get anything to eat?”

“No.” Kal chuckled and leant into his shoulder. “I don’t know if you noticed but we had the creepy old lady to deal with.”

“I wonder if we’ll meet her early again.” Anton took one of the pieces of uncooked meat and held it over the fire. He turned to Cetina. “What do you think about what Ferula said?”

“I…I don’t know.” Cetina shuffled about. “But it’s given me something to think about. Though it sounds kind of interesting.” Cetina smiled at them. “The thought of being able to hunt down those Strega Witches sounds like a good idea.”

“Only if we see Eluria again,” Anton spoke firmly. “We don’t know what the others are up to and I don’t want to fight them. We won because we attacked hard and fast, and didn’t give them the chance to recover. I don’t know how we’d fare against another that’s prepared for us.”

Cetina looked blankly at him.

“But if we do meet Eluria again we’ll be sure to get her. And make sure she doesn’t get away.”

“Really?”

“You have my word.”

Cetina smiled and gripped her sword’s handle tight. “I think I’ll look into becoming a Mage Hunter, or whatever she called it. How expensive do you think those weapons would be?”

“Don’t know. Extremely I’m guessing.”

Anton took the cooked piece of meat off the fire and passed it to Kal. She looked back and saw that none of the few passing travellers were looking. She moved her mask to the side and began to devour her food. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the luxury to enjoy the taste.

“But you don’t have to worry about things being too expensive.”

Cetina looked at her pack and chuckled. “No, I don’t. No I don’t.”

Verona bumped his shoulder and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled and ruffled her hair. When she pulled herself into his other side.

Did I actually see a green flash from her? If she’s a Strega Witch can we trust anything she says?

Anton searched through his body with the prayer magic but he found nothing. He did the same for Verona and Kal, both gave him odd looks but he found nothing as well. He even checked Luna. She had nothing but she pawed at him with her hoof before he rubbed her head. That just left Cetina but he would check her in a moment.

The gnawing thought that he had no real idea of what was happening around him, especially to him, continued to eat away at his mind. Verona and Kal picked up on his worry and held his arms tight. He could only smile and pat their hands as he stared silently into the flickering flame.

Chapter 99. Vol 3 - Rusaddir and The Snowberry

Chapter 99:

Rusaddir finally loomed into view. Anton felt relief knowing they were reaching the end of one stage of their journey. The city was large and sprawling, more so than Porswea and befitting a major port city. Multiple layers of stone and wooden walls protected the city. However, the city was so large that outermost layer of buildings wasn’t protected at all and simply grew out randomly in all directions. These were Rusaddir’s poor, their slums, but they looked to be a bit better than those of Porswea. At least there weren’t hordes of shifty and desperate eyed people waiting behind every darkened corner. Hundreds of carts, caravans and travellers entered the city through massive open gates. The smell of the sea, something that Anton had not smelled in an age, filled his nose as they approached the outer city wall.

“Finally.” Verona loudly said as they passed through the open iron gates. “We can be done with this craziness. Now…Where’s this ship that we’re meant to own?”

“The Snowberry.” Anton smiled. “What a delightful name. Now, where’s the wharf?”

Kal and Cetina pointed deep into the city. Through the maze of tall wooden buildings, he spied several slim and exceedingly tall wooden spires. The masts of the ships slowly rocked back and forth in the distance.

“Perfect.” Anton whipped the reins towards the ships.

His smiled turned to a frown when he saw the number of crosses of the Holy Father hanging over building entrances. Some were small and made from wood while others, on the larger and more expensive buildings, were made from gold and polished to a bright and glistening sheen. The memories of Sa’leem came back.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said.

The girls agreed. They banded together and quickly travelled through the city streets. After the madness in Sa’leem, they kept as far away from cities and villages as possible. When they did Anton couldn’t help but notice the prominence of the Church of The Holy Father in this part of Graterious. The few people that they interacted with, mainly for milk to feed the ravenously hungry Luna, were more than pleasant, despite interjecting praise for the Holy Father into their parting sentences. However there was no malice hidden in their words, like those spoken by the priest in Sa’leem, so Anton suppressed a desire to question their faith. These were good people trying to live their lives as best as possible. Corrupted people could come from all walks of life.

They travelled along the twisting and winding streets, again bombarded by the cries and shouts of stall and shop owners, and began to descend slowly. The street flattened out and they approached another large stone wall. When they passed through the open gate they entered the port.

“Wow.” Anton managed to say. The girls seemed equally impressed as well.

Over fifty huge ships with hundreds of smaller ships nestled between them waited in the port. Dozens of stone jetties stuck out hundreds of meters into the calm ocean waters. Crates were constantly being loaded and unloaded from the ships, some with large pulley cranes operated by small swarms of people. Smaller ships were being loaded by hand. Rusaddir must have been one of the largest ports in Graterious.

“Okay…” Anton led his horse to the side so they wouldn’t block passage. “Can any of you see The Snowberry? It shouldn’t be too hard to spot…”

The ships names were proudly displayed on the side and rears but they couldn’t see any with that name. Anton hoped that they hadn’t been given something that didn’t exist. If they were they had enough money to buy one, probably with an extreme favour to Cetina, and he would be paying Cassius a visit when he next visited Porswea. Hopefully, the rest of the city wouldn’t burn with him…

“I can’t see it,” Verona said.

“Same.” Kal sighed. “But this port is massive, far larger than the one in Danafra. A lot of the ships are facing the wrong way or blocked by others. It would take a long time to search everywhere.”

“And even if we do find it I don’t think they’ll just let us on and sail away. Not that I know how to sail, or really want to do it myself. We’ll just have to ask the harbourmaster.” Anton started looking around. “If they have one here.”

“They must do,” Cetina added. “They couldn’t have a place this big without one. If…If what I know about port cities is correct it won’t be far. The captain wouldn’t want to walk far to get their paperwork done. Or pay any fees.”

“I forgot those sort of things exist.” Anton held his chin. “Not that they’ll be a problem for us. It’s just that we’ve been recently living without needing to pay for food and travel.”

Kal nodded. “When you hunt for your food you forget that others have to pay for theirs.”

“And work,” Verona added. “Haven’t had to do anything like that yet, and for that I’m glad.” She smiled and looked at Cetina. “So, Cetina, since you’re the best expert in this, where would the Harbour Master be?”

Cetina pursed her lips and looked at the buildings closest to the port. Most were massive warehouses and barns, crates travelling in and out at an alarming rate, but some were different. One was exceptionally tall and built almost like a lighthouse. The very top had large clear glass windows, very expensive in this time and age, only overlooking the port. Cetina saw them looking, smiled and shrugged. It was good as a place as any to start their search.

Thankfully a sign hung over the outside of the building actually saying, Harbour Master. No pictogram for this building, evidently all captains were expected to know how to read. Either that or they remembered the shape of the lettering. Or they just asked a passer-by.

Once outside they dismounted and Anton retrieved the writ to The Snowberry. Before he entered something tickled his side.

Kal poked at his arm. “I think its best that you and Verona go in to get this. I’ll wait out here with Cetina and the horses. There’s nowhere to tie them up and my mask will raise a lot of questions.”

“Okay.” Anton pulled her in for a quick hug. “We’ll be back shortly. Cetina?” Her eyes snapped to him. “Make sure that you look after Kal for me.”

Cetina took his words a little too literally and nodded furiously. Kal sighed and chuckled before she moved to Luna and began feeding her some cold milk. Verona sidled up to Anton, linked his arm, and they strode into the building.

A strange smell permeated the interior. One he didn’t expect to smell again. Tobacco filled the air, the faint grey smoke rose and swirled along the roof of the single-story room. People sat at large desks, piles of paper dwarfing and confining them, while they wrote with dip pens at a furious pace. All had a large glowing cigar in their mouths and breathed nearly a constant stream of smoke. Anton questioned having so much potential flame near paper.

Verona spluttered and chuckled. “Now I know why Kal volunteered to stay outside. Poor girl would have been nothing more than a mess if she came in here.”

“Yeah.” Anton held back a cough. “She’s got a good head on her. There are quite a few things that we don’t have to deal with that she does. Imagine what we smell to her?”

Verona sniffed at her clothes. “True. Although that explains a few things…”

“What things?”

Verona smiled wildly. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just girl stuff…”

Anton knew it was best to drop the issue and move forward. He looked through the haze for someone that looked to be more than a paper pusher. He spied a man walking amongst the paper filled desks that seemed to fit the bill. His clothes were better made and he walked with the air of someone important, hopefully not someone who was stuck up their own arse. Anton took a deep breath and walked towards him. The man saw them approach and lowered the papers in his hands.

“Can I help you?” He asked dryly.

“Yes.” Anton unfurled the writ. “Lord Cassius has granted us The Snowberry for our personal use.”

The man looked very disbelieving. He took the writ from Anton’s hand and took out a pair of glasses. Anton was surprised to see such a thing, but he remembered that Alfred had a telescope that he acquired from Graterious. He looked closely at the paper before a frown formed on his face. Without saying a word he scurried away and into the smoke, leaving Anton and Verona a little shocked. Verona looked up at him but he could only smile weakly. What could either of them really do?

Anton moved to the side so they wouldn’t be in the way. A few large men, smelling of salt and unwashed, came through and began speaking with one of the men at the desks. Anton fought back the suspicion that the man had just run off with the only evidence they now owned a ship. Thankfully such fears were unrealised and he returned shortly afterwards.

He handed the writ back. “My apologies. We just needed to check that this was real. Many people try to falsely claim that they own something so significant.”

“How did you know we have a good copy?”

The man smiled. “There are secrets hidden in the paper. Suffice to say that we know this is true and legitimate. However, it did state it was only for the ship and not for a crew. Is that correct?”

Anton nodded. “It was. We were hoping that we could find a crew here.”

“Well, you can.” The man pocketed his glasses. “Your best bet would be to try the local taverns. There’s one on the waterfront that has a large number of crews. One might not be enough to man The Snowberry so you may have to get them to work together. How you do that is up to you.”

“Thank you. Where is The Snowberry?”

“I’ll send an assistant with you to guide you and help finalise everything. So good day to you two.”

The man bowed his head and left them alone in the smoke-filled room.

“Okay…” Verona scratched her head. “Have we been given a little wooden rowboat?”

“I hope not.” Anton ruffled her hair. A young man, wearing the same clothing as the others, approached them with a joyous bounce in his step. “If we have we might need to beg Cetina for some money.”

---[]---

Their worries were completely unfounded. The young assistant led them to the far side of the port and to one of the larger ships. If Anton was honest The Snowberry looked a little old. It lacked the shine of some of the other ships, its name was engraved on the side but looked a little old and tarnished, but better than quite a few of the larger trading ships. What was most important was that it was seaworthy and could hold hundreds of people. Or Beast-kin.

The young assistant smiled and handed over a small piece of paper. “This is just some final documents to let anyone know that you are the sole owner of The Snowberry.”

“Thanks.” Anton looked back to the port. “Do you know which tavern might hold a crew large enough to man this ship?”

“You don’t-” the young assistant blinked furiously and smiled to cover his shock. “Yes. The False Fish Tavern is your best bet to find one large enough to man The Snowberry. My sister says that there’s a captain there with a large crew.”

“And his name?” Verona raised a silver brow and leant forward.

The assistant flushed and chuckled nervously. “Sorry. I think his name is Wilford Earle. I think. But he should be there.”

“Thank you. We’ll check that out.”

The young man glanced at Verona, who remained still for a moment then jerked her head towards the Harbour Master building. He nearly choked and scampered away. Verona chuckled as she watched him run down the pier.

“Cute kid.” She clapped her hands. “So who gets this captain and sees if he’s any good?”

“I…I don’t think I should.” Kal sighed. “I don’t want to be in a crowded space with lots of drunk people. If they get too close and go for my mask…Well, we won’t be needing a boat.”

Anton nodded. “Alright. We’ll move everything onto the boat and get settled in.”

“This has been here a while,” Cetina said. “Someone might have decided to move in. Especially if they haven’t been paying much attention who’s walking into the port.”

“We just managed to walk through…” Anton flexed his hands and readied lightning bolts. “We’ll do a check over the ship and then Verona and I-”

Verona raised her hand. “You might want to change that. If a bunch of drunk people see a pretty Clansmen girl, like myself.” She flicked her silver hair back with one hand. Anton heard Kal groan and he was certain she was rolling her eyes. “Then things might get gropey and touchy-feely. And I don’t want half the place going up in flames because some drunk guy grabbed my ass.”

“So send the people that even drunk people wouldn’t want to grab?” Anton asked dryly.

Verona’s face drained of colour. “I…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean by it then?”

Verona struggled to find words. She looked to Kal, who backed away and waved her hands.

“I…um. I mean that drunk sailors aren’t going to mess with another guy or a woman that looks like she could beat them up even when they’re sober.” Verona sighed and turned to the boat. “I think I got out of that one.”

Anton ruffled her hair. “You didn’t really. And don’t think I’ll forget about it tonight.” Cetina looked oddly at him. “But…Cetina? Could you come with me to get this captain?”

“Sure.” Cetina smiled. “This is one of the things I sort of know about.”

---[]---

Anton and Cetina passed through the open doors to the False Fish Tavern. His senses were blasted with raucous laughter and the smell of salt, cooking food, and copious amounts of free-flowing beer. Judging by the state of the people at the tables they had been partaking since dawn.

“Just like the guild,” Cetina said. “Maybe a little dirtier.”

Anton gently moved her to the side so they weren’t going to block passage. “In Porswea…” Her eyes looked to the mugs of beer on the table. She scrunched them tight. “It reminds me of that place. That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, it wasn’t. Although we nearly had a fight and it was only our first time there. That was interesting.”

Cetina looked more than a little shocked. “But they were so nice to me there.”

Anton smiled. “Not them. A bunch of clowns with sticks up their arses. They didn’t want to move out of the doorway and then they wanted to have a go at Verona. And that wasn’t happening.”

“Did you kill them?”

“No. Someone else stepped in to stop the fight. But I know some of them are dead. They were at…the place with all the goblins. I saw some of them dead.”

Cetina frowned. “Why aren’t you saying Fort…”

Anton stared her down. “Just in case someone has heard of that place. And they think we’re good for gossip.” Anton clapped his hands. “I guess the bartender is a good place to start to find our captain.”

They moved through the tables full of drinking and laughing men and women. They looked like sailors and those that worked near the sea. Wind and sunburn on their faces, their skin dry and their hair stiff and all short. There was no way a woman could keep hair long in such conditions, if they had to live by the sea Verona and Kal’s shoulder-length hair would be the absolute limit, or at least be braided to stop it whipping around. Both girls would need some braids when they were at sea.

The bartender looked the part. A large man, covered in tattoos and scars, wearing a shirt that seemed just a little too tight. However, his face was always smiling. When he saw them approach he smiled.

“What can I get you two?” his voice, unlike his appearance, was soft but not gentle.

“A beer each, please.”

Cetina leant towards him. “I thought-”

“You can have a drink from time to time, Cetina. I just didn’t want it to become a crutch for you.”

Cetina slowly nodded. “Yes. That would be good.”

“One moment.” The bartender turned around and returned a moment later with two large wooden mugs filled with beer.

Cetina’s eyes lit up at the sight and she reached for the drink before it even touched the wood. Anton handed over the money and drank from the mug. While the beer wasn’t as cold as he would have liked it was nonetheless delicious. When he put the mug down Cetina had already finished hers and had ordered another. The bartender obliged and handed it over the moment Cetina handed over the copper. When Cetina had almost downed her second mug Anton gently held her arm and lowered it to the bar. The white froth covered her lips, which she brushed away, and she slowly nodded.

“Sorry.” She mumbled. She held the mug with both hands and proceeded to sip.

“Actually.” Anton git the bartender's attention again. “We were looking for someone. We have a ship and we need a crew, and a nice young man said we can find someone by the name of Wilford Earle here. Apparently, he’s a captain with a large enough crew for our ship.”

“What happened to your old crew?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“We’ve just bought the ship and unfortunately they don’t’ come with one.”

The bartender nodded towards the far side of the tavern. About thirty men sat huddled around tables in the corner, trying to keep out of sight.

“He’s the one in the blue coat. I’ve heard that they’re in quite a bit of a problem. Debt.”

“Then why are they here and not running away? Or finding a way to pay it back?”

The bartender smiled. “Because no one is allowed to fight in here. No one. Not even the city watch would be that stupid.”

“Right…”

“I thought I saw some strange people lurking around the place,” Cetina said softly.

“That’ll be them then.” The bartender shook his head. “The moment they’re outside of here they’ll be gutted.”

“Any idea how much?” Anton felt his hand brush against his secret pouches of gold coins.

“I think about fifty gold coins.” The bartender rubbed his chin. “It’s probably more than that right now.”

“How did he get so far into debt?”

“Not really sure. At least that’s how much they claim they’re in debt. Can still afford drinks and food though.”

“Right. Well, we’ll have a chat with them.”

The bartender nodded and moved to other patrons. Anton turned to Cetina just as she finished her mug. He poured half of his into hers.

“I don’t know that much about negotiating.” Anton began. “Not in a real business situation like this. The previous times the other person’s been in our debt or money simply didn’t matter. Anyway, I’ll need you to help me get the best price. We can’t just spend like we’ve got a limitless supply.”

Cetina nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best Anton.”

Anton took another sip and they walked towards the huddled group in the corner. They saw them approach and a few rose up to stop them. Their menacing looks did nothing to scare Anton. One got very close, his foul breath inches from his face. Cetina rested her hand on the pommel of her sword and pulled slowly, the harsh sound of metal on metal silencing the group.

“You don’t want to do that.” The man said. “You won’t get very far fighting everyone in here.”

Anton smiled and gently pushed Cetina’s arm down. “We don’t want to fight. My companion doesn’t like it when someone gets right in our faces.”

Cetina was slightly taller than he was and, while he didn’t know how well built she was underneath her armour and loose clothing, she was probably stronger than most of them. And then there was there was the trance she fell under when she fought…

A man at the back, wearing a blue coat, coughed loudly.

“Oi! Don’t be rude to them. They ain’t done nothing wrong yet.” Wilford, if it was Wilford, smiled. “What do you two want with us? I can tell you that we don’t have the money yet and we’re not going to get it with your thugs hanging out the front.”

“I was told that you, and your crew, were available for hire. Is that true?”

The man moved from Anton’s face and Cetina sheathed her sword.

“It is.” Wilford nodded. He whispered something to the men next to him and they vacated the seats. “But we’re kind of stuck in here.”

Anton took the seat while Cetina remained standing, her hand rapping on the pommel of her sword. “I heard from the bartender that you’re in a bit of trouble. If I may ask, why?”

Wilford sighed and slumped into the chair. “We got into a bit of trouble with one of Lord Vulusius Dukes. And he’s finally found us and wants his money back.”

“What sort of trouble?” Wilford frowned at Anton’s question. “I need to know before I hire you.”

“We were moving some cargo discreetly but the city watch caught wind and seized it. They aren’t the problem but the lords want their money back. They’ve already seized our ship and want whatever we’ve got left to pay it back.”

“How much do you actually owe?”

“At this stage…I think about seventy, maybe seventy-five gold coins. It’s…It’s a lot.”

Anton reached into his armour and retrieved a dozen gold coins and lay them on the table. The eyes of those nearby bulged, Wilford’s almost popped out from his skull. Anton pushed them towards him. He seemed confused and looked up.

“I can pay for whatever the lords want from you. In return I want you to captain my ship.”

“Where are you going?” he appeared hesitant to take the coins. Perhaps he thought this was a test from some devil that would seal his fate once he took the cursed coins.

“For now, Danafra. After that…we’ll discuss that when the time comes.”

Wilford hesitated before taking up the gold coins. He smiled, a toothy grin, as he inspected the coin. Anton looked at his crew and was intrigued to see almost ten were women. While they weren’t conventionally pretty it allayed a fear that Anton held. They were going to be stuck on a boat with three women and certain…urges might take hold. He had no idea if they held that sort of arrangement but it helped ease any sort of worries. Not that he was going to let them wander the ship by themselves.

“This is a good start.” Wilford smiled. “It’ll probably get them off our backs for a while. More than enough to get out of Rusaddir.”

“I’m willing to pay a substantial amount for each trip that we undertake, but there may be some time between those. You will be free to do whatever business you wish with the ship, so long as you’re available when we need you. And you don’t lose it or get it seized.”

Wilford had been enticed by the prospect of gold. He nodded and slammed his hands on the table. Every one of his crew rose up at once. “Alright, you lot. This here is our new boss. We’ve finally got a job and way out of this place. And I’m going to take it. Get yer’ shit and let’s get moving.”

The crew burst in a flurry of movement, wood dragged loudly on wood as chairs and tables were moved in the rush.

“Shouldn’t be too long now.” Wilford smiled. “Now, how much are we talking on each trip?”

“We’ll be travelling essentially from here to Danafra and then that distance about three or four times again.”

Wilford nodded. “Right. Well, I was thinking about-”

Anton coughed and interrupted him. “Actually, my companion Cetina is better handled to deal with that stuff.”

His expression dropped when he looked at Cetina’s yellow and blue clothing. Evidently, he had met a Bebbezarian before and heard of their ability to haggle a deal. Cetina only needed to act confident and that she was an expert.

“Okay.” Wilford rapped his fingers on the table. “I was thinking, for that distance, about a thousand silver for each trip.”

Cetina scoffed. “Try again.”

“This isn’t just for me. I have to pay my crew. Food and repairs too. Not to mention fees and tariffs.”

“True.” Cetina folded her arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “But not that much. Not unless the cost of everything has doubled since the last winter.”

Wilford clicked his tongue. “How much are you offering then?”

Cetina scratched her chin and looked at the floor, remaining silent for some time. “I think that four hundred sounds better.”

“I’m going to be going backwards with that much.” Wilford nodded towards the port. “The current will work against us half the time. One way it’ll be good and the other shit. So I’ll be wasting time, while my crew actually gets paid. Seven hundred.”

Cetina glanced at Anton. “I think six hundred, per trip, is more than enough.”

Wilford thought long and hard before he slowly nodded. “Alright. We have a deal.” He stretched out his hand for Anton to shake, which he did. “I know a few people that want stuff moved to Seocuria.”

“Not this time,” Anton said. “When you aren’t working directly for us you can do what you want.”

Wilford appeared slightly confused but didn’t press. “Fair enough. It’s your ship. So…Where are we and when do you want to go?”

“We have The Snowberry as our ship. And we’re ready to leave the moment you are.”

“The Snowberry…That ships’ been there a while.” His face darkened slightly. “Last thing I heard that it belong to Lord Cassius. You aren’t thinking of stealing a man’s ship, are you? Because that’s a good way to get us all killed.”

“No.” Anton produced the piece of paper from the young assistant. “We own it now.”

Wilford leant forward and squinted at the paper. “Well, my reading’s not as good as my first mates but I’m sure I don’t need her to tell me what it says. How did you manage to do that?”

“It’s a secret.” Anton smiled. “How much food will we need to get to Danafra?”

“Depends. Is it just you two?”

“Us and another two already on the ship. And four horses.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll get some supplies before we leave and we know how to fish. That won’t be a problem.” Wilford smiled. “If you’re really in a rush I could arrange those supplies as soon as we’re free. It’ll save time having to go and find and organise it in this port.”

Anton smiled. “That’s fine. But I want a record of everything you bought and how much it cost.”

Wilford’s smile faded ever so slightly but still nodded. Hopefully, he didn’t think they were total chumps but rather a meal ticket they could ride to wealth. That should keep them in line. All they needed to do was sail.

“Alright. We’ll leave the moment we can. I’ll go see if those thugs actually want to listen.” Wilford smiled as he rose from his chair. “Otherwise you might need to find yourself another crew.”

He left, leaving Anton and Cetina alone.

“Excellent work, Cetina.”

Cetina breathed deeply and smiled. “It wasn’t much. I just remembered what my father did and copied that. I think it worked.”

Thinking about her father took its toll on her. She sighed and her shoulders hunched together. Anton held her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…Yeah. I just don’t try to think about it.”

“Do you want a moment?”

Cetina closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. No, I just need to keep moving. It’s easier that way.” She took another deep breath and slapped her face. She chuckled when Anton looked oddly at her. “No point waiting here. We should head back to the ship, so long as Wilford hasn’t gotten himself killed.”

Anton smiled as he followed Cetina. “At least I don’t have to threaten to start a firestorm this time.”

Cetina laughed, a proper laugh, and led them outside.

---[]---

It was getting dark by the time everything was ready. Wilford and his crew took to the ship like a duck to water. They almost gushed at the sight of the ship and immediately turned into tough and professional sailors. Anton and Cetina could only look at each other in surprise as they visibly transformed before them. Large sacks and crates of food and water were quickly loaded onto the ship, more than enough for their trip.

Wilford approached Anton, Verona, Kal and Cetina as they stood at the prow of the ship. The Snowberry slowly cut through the salty sea out of the port and were already heading out to open sea, the spray of the ocean throwing up salt into the air.

“Anton.” Wilford stopped a few paces behind them. “It should take about seven or eight days before we arrive at Danafra. The Snowberry is a pretty fast ship for her size.” He smiled. “Her fat ass isn’t dragging as much as we thought it would.”

“Excellent. Is it safe to travel at night?”

Wilford nodded. “It is. Once we reach Seocurian waters we won’t have to worry about any sort of pirates. They put them into slavery and, trust me, they don’t want anything of that. They patrol a little further south than their borders but no one seems to mind. There are a few nasties swimming in the water but we’re big enough so they should leave us alone. Just like those lords. They’ve given us a bit longer to pay it all back. They were pretty shocked when I gave them the money.”

“That they were. Thank you, Wilford.”

He took that as the sign to leave. He bowed his head and began shouting at the crew.

Kal leant on the railing and lifted her mask. She breathed in the spray and the fresh air. A tear trailed down her face. “I never thought I’d actually be here. About to actually get back to Seocuria. With help too.”

“We’re going to be with you every step of the way.” Verona patted Kal’s shoulder.

Anton hugged Kal from behind, her hands wrapped around his elbows. “We will be there every step of the way, just like I said we would. We’ll save your mother and start rescuing hundreds of slaves. As many as we can.” He patted her side. “Over the next few days, we’ll need you to tell us everything we need to know about your old life. It’s going to be tough but we can’t go in unprepared.”

Kal nodded and looked to the open ocean. “Hold on Marion. We’re coming to save you.”

Chapter 100. Vol 3 - Danafra

Chapter 100:

The spray of the sea blasted Anton’s face as he rested against the prow railing of The Snowberry. First rays of dawn pierced his eyes and drove back the darkness and light fog that covered the turbulent ocean. According to Wilford, they were making excellent time, far better than he originally thought, and Danafra would soon be in sight.

Kal wriggled in his arms. She had been having increasingly difficult days and nights as she worried about what was to come. Every night was another day closer to Danafra, her old home and the source of her nightly terrors. And also another day closer to the accumulation of one of her greatest wishes, rescuing her mother, Marion. Now that they were probably just a few hours away she was shaking and breathing almost uncontrollably. Nearly two decades of tension and desperate hope was bursting through her normally calm exterior.

Anton tightened his grip, forcing her arms tight against her body, and kissed her head. She calmed down a little.

“I’m just so nervous,” Kal said quietly. “Now that it’s happening, that it’s really happening, I can’t stop worrying. My hands and feet are shaking and I can barely sleep-”

Anton kissed her head again. “Take some deep breaths. We’ll find her and get her to Atros. And nothing’s going to stop us. If we have to I’ll break the city to find her.”

Kal nodded and held his hands tight. Verona sidled and rested next to Anton, resting her hands against the railing. She and Cetina had not done well with the ocean swells. Both had started vomiting furiously within the first hour of travel. Anton chanted a prayer to remove their sea-sickness, which cost more for Cetina but for Verona he had to remove her immunity to poison. When they reached dry land he would have to restore that, just in case. For both of them. Kal and he had no problem with the waves. Strangely.

“Wilford says we’ll be seeing it any moment.” Verona smiled and looked forward. “Even though it’s going to be terrible I am a little interested in seeing what it looks like.”

“Not from the inside,” Kal said quietly and retreated into Anton. “Not from there.”

Anton stroked her arms and kissed her head again.

Verona nodded. “True…But it won’t be long now.”

Cetina rested her mailed hand on the railing next to Verona. “If it’s anything like the other cities, most of the slaves will be kept in large pens inside fortified slave houses. A riot nearly twenty winters ago in Danafra did so much damage they completely restructured their holdings. Other cities adopted it so it couldn’t happen to them.”

“To think my escape made things so much more difficult.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Anton squeezed Kal again. “We’re going to find her no matter what.”

Again Kal nodded, this time with much more confidence.

Wilford gingerly approached from behind. “My lord, Danafra will soon be in sight. Once we pass the cliffs we’ll be able to see it.”

To their left large brown cliffs passed them by, the same cliffs they had watched for the past several hours. Sometimes it felt like they were going nowhere at all.

“Thank you.” Anton had stopped trying to stop Wilford calling him a lord. If he, and the crew, thought he was important they might keep their hands to themselves, which they had done during the trip so far.

Wilford nodded and left. Anton stood in silence as the cliffs began to shrink and reveal a very arid land. Compared to Graterious or Qaiviel it was very dry, the trees and shrubs were hardy and tough, unlike their lush and green counterparts. The grass was almost universally brown but the base had faint amounts of green. A few ibex-like creatures bounded along the cliff’s edge. Often Anton thought one would get too close and fall down but they didn’t. One quick look at the cliff’s base revealed this to not be the case all the time.

“How’s Luna?” Anton asked to break the silence.

“She’s doing good,” Verona replied. “Right now she’s sleeping. She’s drinking quite a bit of milk.”

Luna didn’t seem to worry about the swell of the ocean. Instead, she spent most of the time gently wandering around his room and nuzzling them for pats and food. When a large wave came she would stumble but immediately got back up, as if to prove that she was still okay. The crew hadn’t found out about her and part of him didn’t want to know if she was some valuable, sacred or reviled creature. Kal’s three hundred gold coin bounty floated up in his mind. If anyone, especially Wilford, found out about it…

“The doors locked too, and she’s tucked underneath the bed, so she’ll be fine. She goes straight to sleep once it’s dark.”

“I wonder what the others will think of her,” Anton said. “And I’m glad that everything’s going fine back home. Still no word from Belinda though.”

A cry from the crow’s nest signalled the end of any sort of frivolity. The cliffs ended and revealed the city beyond. Kal’s hands tightened again, this time to a near death grip.

The city emerged through the last wisps of morning fog, an even larger city than Rusaddir or Porswea. A thick dark brown stone wall surrounded the perimeter of the massive city and extended for nearly a hundred meters into the ocean. Inside of that lay a port with many ships, though none as large as theirs. If anything they looked like small boats, more suited to the shallows or even canals than the open sea. Wood and stone buildings filled the city’s interior in a near grid-like pattern, many streams of smoke rising from the tops of stone chimneys. Each building had wooden beams jutting out from the top in a grid pattern. Large pots, each with a lush and flowing green plant, hung from the ends. Anton saw some people on ladders watering the plants. Beast-kin slaves.

“The walls...” Kal murmured. “They weren’t that high.”

The walls were more than twenty meters tall. No one could survive that fall, let alone a child.

They passed several small ships as they approached the port, most nothing larger than fishing boats, and Anton began to fully appreciate what Kal had fled. Only Beast-kin operated the small fishing boats. He had not seen this type of Beast-kin before. If Anton had to guess they looked like shark-people. No hair, a thick rough grey blueish skin, a face tapered to a point and fins growing from their backs. However, the thick iron links squeezing tight on their necks, and the almost robotic way they moved, told him everything he needed to know about what sort of lives they led.

“They’re shark Beast-kin.” Kal whimpered and held his hands tight. “The masters send them out to do anything related to water. Fishing, clearing canals, harvesting seaweed or clams. Everything. They’re just…they’re just dolls to the masters. Just living dolls to use and thrown away.”

Anton sighed. There was not a lot they could do for them now. But one day they would.

The Snowberry avoided the small fishing boats and docked at the end of a long stone jetty. A sailor threw a rope to the jetty, a canine Beast-kin caught it and fastened it securely.

They really do use them for everything. I wonder how they’re going to fare when they’re all gone.

“Remember the plan.” Anton began. “I am a representative of a new rich plantation owner at the very south of Seocuria. And he needs a lot of slaves to work the plantation.”

“What are we growing?” Verona asked. “That’s something that we didn’t talk about.”

“Kal?”

“The south of Seocuria is a lot more humid than here. So…It’ll be large plants, like apples, oranges and peaches.”

“That’ll be enough.” Anton nodded. “I’ll try to remember that. I’ll need you three will need to help shore up anything that I forget or get wrong. We’ll be relying on you a lot Kal. I need you to be strong no matter what you see or hear.”

Kal nodded. “I understand. I’ll try to keep myself under control but I can’t promise you that. You don’t know what they do to us here.”

“Just stay between us and your mask on. Make whatever face you need to but don’t give yourself away.”

Kal nodded and scrunched her fists.

“Right, so Verona and Kal are assistants that are here to help select a good variety of Beast-kin, that’ll give you an opportunity to, hopefully, mingle with the other Beast-kin and try and find your mother. And you were held in the Blue House slave market, Block E?”

Kal nodded. “Yes. That’s where I lived. Blocks with higher letters had…Other purposes.”

“And I’m an expert on purchasing slaves you…no, your employer hired.” Cetina raised a brow. “Right?”

“Yep.”

Cetina chuckled. “Seems my only advantage is the colour of these clothes...”

“Do we have enough money?” Verona asked. “This isn’t going to be cheap.”

Anton nodded. “We do. You’ve still got yours and I’ve still got quite a few hidden pouches. And we’ve got a few green and red crystals, just in case.”

A large wooden plank landed on the ship. The sailors and the Beast-kin adjusted and fastened the plank securely.

“Everyone ready?” Anton asked.

The girls nodded. Anton looked to find Wilford near the wooden plank. “Wilford. How many Beast-kin can The Snowberry hold safely?”

“Um…About three hundred, possibly three hundred and fifty if we bunch them all up together. Maybe four hundred.” Wilford scratched his lightly stubbled chin. “I guessed that we would be getting Beast-kin slaves…But I’m not too keen on having them on this ship. They’re bad luck.”

If only you knew.

“Well, you are more than welcome to head back to Rusaddir. On your own. And pay the lords the remainder of what you owe them. Though you won’t have this ship to make up the difference.”

Wilford grumbled but held his ground.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be interacting with them any more than absolutely necessary. If everything goes well you’ll barely even know they’re here.”

Wilford slowly nodded. “Okay. Just some old stories about them and being on water. A few ships transporting them have supposedly sunk.”

I imagine they got loose and attacked the crew. The most simple answer is often correct.

“The fishermen don’t seem to have trouble. Nor do the bigger ships, and they have Beast-kin on board.”

“I suppose. But we need to resupply. And we’ll need a lot to feed all these Beast-kin.”

“Get as much as we need for a return trip to Rusaddir.” Anton passed over a gold coin.

Wilford nodded. “I’ll get a receipt of the food and water we buy. It won’t be anything that tastes great, but it’ll last a long time.”

“We don’t know how long we could be. Don’t let any of your crew get drunk and wander off. When we’re done we’ll be leaving straight after that.”

Wilford nodded and returned to his crew.

Anton held Kal’s hand, hidden slightly by her long coat, and squeezed tight. “Let’s do this.”

They walked down the plank and stepped on the first piece of solid ground in over a week. He felt a little wobbly, unused to how the ground didn’t try and rock and surge underneath his feet, but that soon passed. The girls followed close behind and they too seemed a little odd for a moment.

Anton looked to the Beast-kin waiting at the jetty. He looked just like the Beast-kin he had seen in Porswea but somehow even more sad and pathetic. Patches of his brown fur were missing and small sections of his skin were red and looked infected. The iron collar was tight on his skin and the protruding fur was dark and matted. The canine averted his eyes and looked only at the ground. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Anton’s. Anton’s first thought was to show sympathy but had a part to play. He forced himself to show as little emotion as he could. The canine quickly averted his eyes and continued working. Anton glanced back to see Verona and Cetina looking at him with pity, and Kal mainly with anger through his hand.

“Where is the Harbour Master?”

Anton didn’t speak harshly but the canine whimpered slightly. “At the end of the jetty.” His voice was hoarse and slightly terrified. “The tallest building. My Lord.”

“Hmm.” Anton wanted to thank him but kept quiet.

He gently pulled on Kal’s hand, her feet were planted to the ground, and they moved along the jetty. Ships smaller than The Snowberry were transferring hundreds of crates and large barrels. Unlike at Rusaddir, there were no cranes or harnesses. Beast-kin were all the labour the Seocurian’s needed. There were canines and turtles like they had seen in Porswea, as well as Beast-kin that looked a bit like Kal. They had the same arms and limbs but fur covered all of their body. Their faces looked a little like at cats, except the irises were horizontal rather than vertical. All those he saw had brown or a dark orange fur, not a hint of green anywhere. A few very large Beast-kin, easily three meters and very well built, helped move the larger and heavier crates. These were more humanoid than the others, their faces were almost human but their legs were like a cows, an ungulate with large wide hooves to spread their weight. Above their ears their ragged hair buldged out oddly but he couldn’t see why.

“Minotaurs,” Kal said quietly. “They’re used for the heaviest jobs. And for ploughing fields.”

“But they’re so huge,” Anton replied. He looked at the male Minotaurs and their muscular form. They weren’t particularly hairy, even compared to a human male, but the lack of fur gave them all a light shade of sunburn. He wondered what a female would look like. “They could easily kill a person. Their arm is almost as wide as me.”

“Not when they hold your wife and children. And to what end? They can’t escape here…”

Anton glumly nodded and continued forward. The Beast-kin saw them approach and gave them a wide berth, some even downed their goods. A shout and a crack of a whip got them back to work. Kal jumped at the sound, Anton held her tight to keep her calm.

From behind one of the Minotaurs a man emerged carrying a whip. It was the first time he had seen a living Seocurian, and it answered a question about Kal’s heritage. The man’s skin was dark, so dark that it almost had a faint bluish hue under the right angle of the dawn’s light. His clothing was simple and rugged, a dark green shirt and dark blue pants, a long scimitar at his side.

His anger drenched face softened the moment he saw them, slowly turning into a cheeky smile. “Hello, travellers from the south.” He spoke with an odd accent, inflections on the vowels, but it was more coherent than some of the people in Graterious. “I haven’t seen someone from Graterious for some time. What brings you so far north? In such a large ship no less?”

A canine dropped a crate. It didn’t break but he looked at the Seocurian in absolute terror.

“Stupid mutt!”

He whipped the beast-kin over the head, again and again, tufts of fur ripped loose with every terrible strike. The other Beast-kin winced but did nothing as the canine was belted over the head. After eight strikes the Seocurian relented.

“Damn things need to be reminded not to mess up.” He smiled. Anton felt Kal’s desire to tear the man limb from limb. “But what brings you this far north?”

This might be a good test run.

“We’re here to buy slaves,” Anton said. The man threw him an odd look as the canine struggled to his feet, a faint trickle of blood trailing down his face. The others wanted to help but dared not move. “My employer has just bought a plantation near the border with Graterious and needs more slaves. Can’t run a plantation without workers.”

“Seems a long way to come to get slaves. There are …four or five slave houses between here and the border. Can’t be cheap to come up here.”

Ah. Didn’t think about that.

“My employer is relatively old-fashioned and told us to come here first. He pays extremely well and I follow his orders.”

“Fair enough.” The Seocurian hissed at the Beast-kin and they all returned to work. “Just make sure you pay your fees before you leave the dock. More than a few people have run afoul of the merchant council for not doing that.”

“We’ll do just that.”

The man nodded and returned to his brutal supervision of the Beast-kin. They were utterly terrified of him, despite their overwhelming numbers and strength. Just one of the Minotaurs could snap him in two. Anton moved along the stone jetty and the same pattern repeated itself. Anton held his face firm as he casually observed the dock. Kal was utterly furious, he could hear the grinding of her teeth, and Verona held the same face as Anton. Cetina looked like this was normal in Seocuria. Perhaps it was.

They reached the end of the jetty and reached the tallest building on the waterfront. It looked almost identical to Rusaddir, down to the thick Tabaco smoke filling the air. The workers had the same skin colour as the Seocurian on the jetty. These wore very fine clothes and worked furiously through the hazy smoke.

A middle-aged Seocurian woman noticed they stood at the door and approached. “Hello.” She began, she had the same odd accent but far more subdued and controlled. “It’s rare that we see people from the south here.”

She looked at Kal’s mask, frowned for an instant, and then looked at Cetina. “And from the west too.”

“It’s been a bit of a trip.” Anton smiled, which she returned. “We’ve just docked, The Snowberry, and we need to pay our docking fees.”

“Of course.”

Anton handed over the money. The woman moved to one of the busy tables and wrote something on a long piece of paper. She returned with the change.

“Your fees have been paid. You, and your ship may remain in Danafra for up to thirty days.”

“Thank you. Our employer needs slaves for a new plantation.” Anton began. “He spoke of something called the Blue House for buying slaves. Granted it was a long time ago when he was in Danafra…”

The woman smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid that your employer’s information is woefully out of date. After the slave rebellion twenty winters ago all slaves have been moved to the one slave house.”

“Does that make it easier to keep control?” Verona asked.

The woman looked at her hair. “Yes. High and strong walls with only one gate in or out. Even if they riot they’re stuck. Then they’ll just starve and surrender.”

“Efficient,” Anton said calmly. “Little resource investment and good control. So where is this new slave house? It seems our instructions aren’t going to get us much further.”

“I have a spare map of Danafra that I can sell to you if you wish?”

“Well take that please.”

With the map in his hands, they left the Harbour Master and stepped outside. The fresh air, devoid of smoke and with the refreshing smell of the sea, cleared his head a little.

“Why do they all inhale that smoke?” Verona asked. “It can’t be that good for you.”

“The Seocurian’s grow it.” Cetina began. “Tabaco they call it. A lot is grown on the border with Bebbezzar. The leaf is smoked and it gives a sense of pleasure and energy. Some people on the border go crazy for it.”

“Smoking…I bet they make quite a bit of money from it.” Anton said. “And that’s where those uprisings are meant to be happening.”

“All made off the backs of Beast-kin,” Kal said through gritted teeth. “Every moment in this place is making me angry beyond belief. I…Want to kill those people I saw on the jetty. What they did…”

She looked at a large group of Beast-kin hauling building material. She grumbled and shook her head. “Please Anton, please don’t make us stay here any longer than we need to.”

“Sorry Kal.” He unfurled the map and held it so everyone could see. “If we head up along this dock and then turn here we can make a straight line to the main slave house.”

According to the map, the slave house was the largest building in Danafra. It looked like a large keep nestled inside the city. Judging by the map’s scale it didn’t look big enough to hold every slave needed for a city this large, but he was thinking they were housed like normal people. If they were packed like sardines there would have been more than enough room. But the conditions they would live in…

“I agree with Kal,” Verona said. “I don’t like this place either. Let’s get this over with.”

---[]---

They followed the dock and the reality of Seocuria became more unavoidable. Beast-kin were used as nothing more than chattel, organic machines, by the Seocurians. Most Seocurian slave masters only had a whip and scimitar at their side and were often alone despite controlling sometimes up to twenty slaves. Any Beast-kin could easily overpower him, especially the large Minotaurs and other large Beast-kin. Yet they walked with complete and total immunity. The psychological hold the Seocurian’s had on them was utterly controlling and pervasive.

They turned away from the street along the dock and turned to a wide straight and street running through the heart of the city towards the main slave house. The streets were busy with activity despite the time of day. Market stalls and shops, far more ornate than those in Qaiviel and Graterious, were already open but the owners were not shouting for the business of passer-by’s. Instead, the owners had their Beast-kin slaves do it. The slaves, mainly canine and felines, shouted to the passing crowds. They directed their shouts to one group in particular. The Seocurian humans. The Beast-kin amongst the crowd were almost completely ignored. Most of the Seocurian’s that passed by had some sort of Beast-kin slave that followed closely behind, a few had thin chains from their collar to the hands of their masters. They physically looked a little better than those at the docks but utterly depressed and devoid of any semblance of hope.

The Seocurians with the slaves looked quite rich, wearing fine light coloured clothes and silver and gold, all designed to contrast with their dark skin. Even their black hair, braided or made up in odd but impressive styles, had jewels and precious metals strewn throughout.

“It’s all just to show off,” Anton said quietly. “Peacocking…”

Kal nodded. “Most of these are slave owners. They make so much money…” She gripped his hand tight to curb her anger and frustration.

They passed silently through the crowd. While they wanted to get through without drawing attention it was simply not possible. Anton, Cetina and especially Verona were almost deathly white compared to the Seocurian’s. Anton looked around and saw only a few with light skin and those were more like Cetina’s than his. Thankfully their interest was only fleeting at most and they went back to their activities. Even the Beast-kin didn’t pay them anything more than a second glance. Kal pulled her hood lower and pulled closer to Anton.

Anton glanced into the stores and market stalls. It all seemed to be a standard affair; good food, furniture, jewellery and even weapons and armour. The weapons and armour looked very ornate and needlessly expensive, but he spied some that could pass for real weapons. Some of the food stalls had some Beast-kin purchasing goods. Anton suspected they were slaves sent out by their masters, rather than being free.

The Slave House’s domed roof loomed in the distance over the inner wall. Small torches and fires dotted the rim of the dome, the orange light flickered on the dark stone. On the top of the wall Seocurian soldiers, wearing red and gold armour, patrolled with menacing bows and spears tipped with Bosciycium. A few hundred meters from the gate, where hundreds of Beast-kin slaves entered and exited under and dozens of heavily Seocurian soldiers stood either side, Anton felt himself stop.

The buildings ceased as they entered a long plaza with large wooden posts rammed into the ground every few meters forming two long lines. Beast-kin were crudely nailed to the posts, their hands held above them with a single nail driven through their palms, the same with their feet. The whole range, from freshly mounted to dead, were on proud display. Blue crows picked at the dead and those close to death. Most barely had the strength to shrug them away.

“Punishment,” Kal spoke through gritted teeth. “For any reason our masters deem fit. Breaking a plate to simply being too old.” She looked up at a dead female feline Beast-kin. “Or if they don’t like us. I should have been up there when I dropped some eggs. But…”

Kal shook her head. Anton squeezed her hand. He looked back to see Verona and Cetina looking on in disgust.

“I’ve never seen it like this,” Cetina spoke softly.

“Because this is the heart,” Kal replied. “Because stories need to be told of this place. So the slaves know there’s something worse waiting for them. So they’ll do whatever they need to, bow and grovel as low as possible, to avoid this place.”

“You can’t keep control of someone if they literally have nothing to lose.” Anton tugged on her hand. “Let’s go. We can’t do them any good.”

This little world of terror won’t last forever. Not if I have anything to say about it.

Seocurians and their slaves walked past the poles without saying a word. They walked slowly enough that their Beast-kin had to hear the whimpers and struggles of their dying fellows but could not simply run away from it. Anton spied a group of three Seocurian’s staring at a dead turtle Beast-kin. He had been dead for so long that parts of his body had fallen off, or eaten by the Blue Crows, but his shell remained propped up on the pole. An old man, his hear grey, skin wrinkled and back hunched, shook his head at the sight. He spoke something to the other two, who looked to be his children or possibly grandchildren, and they looked equally appalled. He turned away and began walking towards Anton and their eyes met. He realised that Anton had been watching him, his face drained of emotion. When Anton hesitated in taking another step he grabbed the children and took them across the plaza and into the alleyways beyond. He kept checking to see if Anton was following and scurried away even further when Anton kept looking.

I can’t imagine it’s a good way to keep your job, or your life, if you were openly critical of slavery here. Not in, as Kal says, the heart of it all.

They approached the large gate and two Seocurian guards moved from their position to intercept them. Kal tensed as they approached.

“Can we help you with something, Southerner?” Again he spoke with the odd inflection, as pronounced as the man at the docks.

“We were told this is the place to buy slaves,” Anton said as a matter-of-fact.

The two looked them over. “Strange that someone would come so far to buy slaves…”

“We know. But I have my instructions and I intend to follow them.”

The guards nodded. “Well, we haven’t seen you before and we just needed to be sure.” The guard wanted to say something more but held himself in check. “Head through the gate and the first building on the right. The one with the gold phoenix on the roof. They’ll take you from there.”

Anton nodded and they proceeded through the gate. When they were clear Verona came close and smiled.

“That’s another hurdle down.” Verona squeezed Kal’s free hand. “We can do this.”

Kal nodded but she wasn’t ready to speak yet, at least not without potentially making a  scene.

They entered the building the guard spoke of, guarded by another four heavily armed Seocurian’s, and Anton felt…strangely ill. He had just walked into a different world. It was clearly a reception room, a large desk sat in the middle, made from a very dark wood, expensive leather furniture sat in the corner and a faint trail of smoke rose from an incense candle. Everything was incredibly clean and beautifully maintained. Anton couldn’t spot a speck of dirt or dust, except the trail they were dragging in. A Beast-kin would probably be sent in soon to fix that.

The Seocurian woman at the desk smiled and rose up. Her bright orange dress hung tight on her body, revealing little in the way of curves but instead hinting at a very slim and trim body. She moved around the table, she wore soft orange shoes and looked between them.

“Hello. Welcome to the Danafra Slave House. My name is Adara. How can I help?”

Anton explained their story once again. Adara slowly nodded but was frowning lightly at the end.

“I’m sure that someone has told you that you’ve come a long way when there are other Slave Houses?”

Anton chuckled, followed by a sigh. “That we have. Just about every moment we’ve spent in your city so far. But we’re here. So I thought we’d continue regardless.”

Adara smiled, a business smile but it wasn’t entirely devoid of emotion. Perhaps something nearing pity and empathy.

“Though I must say I find your choice of companions a little odd.” She glanced over Verona and Kal before settling on Cetina. “Surely a Bebbezarian trader would have known this?”

Cetina stiffened a little before looking at Anton. Before he could speak she answered. “I was told to ensure they weren’t being ripped off. I wasn’t paid to question the orders from his employer.” Cetina shrugged. “They pay well.”

Adara’s face turned back into a smile. “I see…How many slaves are you looking to purchase?”

“About three hundred to start with.”

If we just order them like they’re from a shelf who knows what we’ll get. We need to have a good look around.

“But we would like to get a good look at them before we make any decisions.”

Adara nodded. “Of course. However, before taking you any further, I must ensure that you are able to pay for so many slaves.”

Anton retrieved three gold coins. Adara looked pleasantly surprised as she inspected them closely. She smiled as she handed them back.

“We just needed to be sure.”

“No time wasters. I can understand that.”

“What sort of price range are you looking at?”

That was one thing that Anton hadn’t thought of. The slaves would likely be tiered in price, and he had no idea where Kal’s mother, or any of her friends, would be priced. However, he couldn’t just ask Kal there and then.

“My employer made mention of some very out of date information, regarding where to purchase slaves. In his original instructions, he mentioned the Blue House, which we now know is no longer here-”

“Unfortunately it was destroyed in the riots twenty winters ago.” Adara sighed. “We lost considerable stock in the flames.”

“Yes…He made mention of Blocks in the Blue House, but he focused on E Block for some reason. Which I now realise doesn’t exist...”

“E Block…” Adara looked into the distance. “That was before my time but I’m sure that corresponds to the worker tiers. After the fires, they were all moved here but I believe that some of the old Blocks could still be together.”

“In that case, we would like to see those first.”

Adara smiled strangely. “Forgive me for asking, but why does it matter which old Block they come from? We can assure that all slaves that we sell are of good and able condition…some more interesting than others.”

Anton didn’t understand what she meant but continued on regardless. “My companion, our dear Bebbezzarian friend, has been paid to report exactly what and where we buy the slaves. No exceptions. And she’s told me that there’s no corner cutting on this trip.”

“Seems like your employer has a lot of money to spend…”

Anton nodded. “That he does. But I get paid regardless, so I might as well.”

Adara paused before nodding once. “Please wait here a moment. I just need to arrange an escort and then we can proceed.”

She turned and left through a door behind the desk, Anton caught a glimpse of a shapely behind. The pain that seared through his hand may or may not have been related to that. He squeezed Kal’s hand and she nodded.

“I’m okay…I’m okay. This is really starting to get to me but I’m holding in so far. But please don’t ask me to do much more than this. I’m not liking any part of this.”

“We’re almost there Kal. We just need to hold on a bit longer, though I think the worst part is about to come.”

Kal nodded and pulled her cloak tight around her body. Verona approached his other side and gave him a look, one that knew he had looked at Adara’s behind. He shrugged and Verona chuckled. Cetina remained where she stood with a hand resting on her sword.

Adara returned with four Seocurian guards in tow. Another woman, wearing the same tightly wrapped orange dress, emerged and took Adara’s place at the desk. Adara caught Anton’s odd look.

“It’s nice sometimes to get away from the desk.” She chuckled. “Although I would prefer to walk through the gardens rather than through the Slave House. Please, if you’ll follow me.”

A Seocurian guard tapped on her shoulder and pointed to Cetina’s sword. “I’m afraid that you have to surrender all weapons before going into the Slave House. One free blade could cause tremendous damage.”

“But they have teeth and claws?” Verona said. “Aren’t those just as dangerous?”

Adara smiled. “No.”

Verona shrugged and handed over her daggers, Cetina her sword and Kal handed over her captured knife but kept her two old rusted daggers hidden. As she gave up one blade they must have presumed that was all she had and didn’t pat her down. Perhaps they didn’t think a woman was much of a threat.

They were led back outside and towards the main entrance of the Slave House. More Seocurian guards stood outside and opened the door to let them in. Anton felt a wave of stench blast his senses. It wasn’t truly foul, but merely the result of thousands upon thousands of unwashed bodies packed together like sardines in a can. Crates and barrels of food were stacked either side of the door and were protected by thick iron bars. Beyond that, he saw the first cells. Hundreds of Beast-kin, many of varieties he had never seen before, were jammed into cells. Most were sitting down and the largest were almost touching each other.

“You caught us at a good time,” Adara said as she led them to a long flight of stairs. “Many of our slaves are about to go out to work.”

“But it’s already light.” Anton pointed out.

“Most of these work in the fields. Yesterday it rained incredibly heavily so it’s only just starting to dry out. There’s no point in having them get stuck in the muddy soil when working the fields. They’re lucky enough to have this reprieve. It’ll be their first late day this season, something new for them.”

Anton nodded but remained silent. The cells, bursting with Beast-kin, extended endlessly in all directions. Anton looked up to see the layers of cells continued upwards. Each cell was a small iron-barred box placed on top of one another with wood acting as a floor.

“Adara?”

Adara turned back and smiled sweetly. “Yes, Anton?” There was a playfulness in her voice.

“I know it’s not my place to question why this is arranged the way it is. But, is it a good idea to have so many slaves in one place? And wouldn’t they waste time travelling long distances to work?”

“Tell me, how many guards, apart from the four strapping men with us, do you see?”

Anton looked along and across the rows of cells. “None.”

“Exactly. Oh, don’t get me wrong, there are guards here, but far less than if there were a hundred little slave houses dotted around the city. As for wasting time…Well, they don’t ever walk to their destination.”

She smiled and led them up to the third story of cells. Kal was able to keep her calm, somehow, but Anton could feel it slowly starting to unravel. The sounds and smells were dragging up long forgotten memories, one she probably wished buried forever. Anton motioned with his eyes for Verona to take care of Kal. She linked arms with Kal and she calmed a little, even patting Verona’s hand. Upon reaching the third level they moved off the stairs and towards the endless cells. Anton tried to ignore the Beast-kin inside the cells but could not help but look. Mangy fur, rashes, sores and terrified eyes greeted him. As they moved past the Beast-kin shied away from the iron cells bars, pushing into each other so they wouldn’t be singled out at the front. A scream above shattered the pervasive moaning and whimpering of the slaves. Something heavy crashed into a story above them and then onto the next. The guards stopped and drew their scimitars. Adara looked at the wooden floor above them.

“Don’t worry. It’s probably just some foolish runt that talked back to a guard. They won’t have long before they’re always basking in the sun. Ha! What foolish little things. If only they knew where that came from.”

She laughed and waved them forward. Kal ground her teeth but kept calm. Adara led them past cell after cell before finally stopping in front of a very large cell, which looked to be three smaller cells put together.

“This is what’s left of Block E.” Adara began. “The Blue House wasn’t a particularly large slave house but I believe most are here if they haven’t died or been taken away. How many Beast-kin are inside?”

“Two thousand, three hundred. Roughly.” A guard replied.

Adara smiled. “I believe that this will suffice.”

“It will. My two companions,” He motioned to Verona and Kal. “Have a better understanding of the requirements of the work than I do. If it’s possible could they select individual slaves for purchase?”

Adara nodded. “Of course.”

A guard stepped forward, produced a large iron bar, and smashed it on the cell bars. The clanging echoed sharply through the air. The Beast-kin recoiled from the sound and tried to cover their ears. The guard struck, again and again, only stopping when the Beast-kin were close to tears.

“All of you scum are remain where you are. If any of you lot try anything you, and those around you, will be killed. Understood?”

The Beast-kin remained silent but they all nodded. The guard smiled at Anton, one he forced himself to return, and opened the cell.

“We’ll get the ones we want to stand up,” Verona said as she entered and gently pushed Kal inside.

Kal glanced back at Anton, gave her a nod, and entered the cell.

---[]---

Kal had never felt so strange. Anger, rage, fear and the desire to run and hide swirled around her head. Without Verona’s gentle pushing she probably would have remained standing completely still. All her effort was focused on not freaking out and making a scene.

Okay…They’ve got me this far. I need to do this. I need to be strong.

A young canine boy whimpered a few feet away. He had clearly been beaten badly and very recently, a few fingers were broken and mangled and some teeth were missing. The Seocurian guard’s probably weren’t the ones that had done this. Kal wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything would be alright, that he wouldn’t have to be afraid any longer, but she couldn’t. She took a deep breath and pointed at the young boy. His eyes were filled with terror, his mangy tail tucked between his legs, but something made him stand. Kal looked back and saw a Seocurian guard staring at the boy.

Focus Kal. Anton’s right. We can’t save them all. I need to find my mother, or at least someone I know. That’s why they risked so much to get me here. Tethra, I’ll need help to see this thing through.

Verona moved through the Beast-kin and knelt down in front of a feline. It wasn’t her mother, but Verona was doing more than Kal was. Kal scrunched her fists and continued looking through the pathetic looking Beast-kin around her. She couldn’t believe that she looked like and lived with them once.

Something caught her eye. A few feet to the side sat a female Cobra Beast-kin. She hadn’t explained to Anton what a Cobra Beast-kin actually looked like, other than showing the small remains in the cave. Small dark blue and purple scales covered her humanoid body, not a single hair on her body, and her eyes were slits like Kal’s but vertical rather than horizontal. She didn’t have ears, no Cobra’s had ears, but had small holes on the side of their head where sound entered. A hood, made from her own flesh and skin, grew out from the top of her skull, along her neck to her shoulders. Kal remembered that it changed based on her emotion, fully stretched out when they were scared or angry and wrapped close when they were sad or tired. She sat hunched over, her clawed scaled hands in her lap with a short and fat short tail coiled around her. A thin line of bright blue scales ran along the top of her tail intermittently spackled with red flecks that trailed up her back, along her head and stopped at her nose. There was only one Cobra Kal knew with that colouring.

Eider.

One of Kal’s few friends.

Beside her was another female Beast-kin, which looked similar to Eider. A Drakeling. She had scales on her body, black and almost as large as Anton’s thumbnail but not on her face or on her front. Instead, that was a mixture of scales and human skin, a skin that Kal knew to be extremely strong and resilient. Her face was almost identical to a human’s, or Eider’s, except her eyes were eyes were bright orange and her teeth were larger than normal. Her thin lips stuck out more as her teeth pushed against them. Unlike Eider she had hair on her head, short, black and very thick. Two horns rode along the top of her ears, kicked up at the end and ended in a blunt tip. Small spines ran along her back to her tail, three feet long ending with a large tuft of red hair. Her clawed hands, like Kal’s but with black scales instead of her fur, scratched at flaking white patches on her legs. Kal knew her as well.

Irso.

Kal didn’t know her that well, she had spoken with her a few times, but she didn’t hate Kal like so many of the other children did.

The third person was completely different to Eider and Irso. Her upper body was essentially a human’s, skin slightly darker than Kal’s, with dark brown hair and green eyes. Annoyingly she was very similar to Verona’s upper body, clear underneath her clothes, but that was where the similarities ended. Below her waist her body transformed into a giant spider. It was a large as Kal lying down, covered in a very short black fur and had three white stripes running along the abdomen. Her legs were tucked underneath her large body save for one. Kal saw the small claws at the tips of the legs that allowed an Arachnid to easily manipulate its thread. It took a moment for Kal to dredge up her name.

Ulyaa.

Kal was ecstatic to recognise someone she knew. She forced her happiness down and remained calm. There was a small space around the three. Drakeling’s didn’t like to be touched except by a very select few, mainly their parents or those they cared about immensely. That made them very dangerous but the Seocurian masters gave them leeway. If they were left alone they wouldn’t complain about their job. Any Seocurian or Beast-kin that tried something would soon find their throat ripped out.

Kal looked around but couldn’t see anyone else she recognised. She took a deep breath and slowly approached them. She looked outside the cage, the momentary sight of the iron bars made her heart grow cold and her feet stop, but when she saw Anton and Cetina talking with Adara she calmed. She wasn’t trapped inside the cell. She was a free woman. They were talking about something since Cetina was speaking she presumed it was about price, but that was not important right now.

She stopped when she was a foot away from Eider, Irso and Ulyaa. Irso glared at her, no one was stupid enough to tangle with a Drakeling, while Eider shied away. Ulyaa looked blankly at Kal then back to the floor, her legs tucked in tighter underneath her large body. Now that Kal was close enough she could see the white scars that trailed over Irso’s face, one running dangerously close to her eye. Both of Eider’s eyes looked a little wrong. They had lost their clarity and a thick fog had clouded them over. Kind of like Cetina’s eye but nowhere near as bad. Was she blind?

Fuck. What do I do now? I can’t just say who I am…Here’s where everything goes wrong.

Kal knelt down in front of Eider, Irso continued to glare at Kal’s mask. She took a deep breath and reached out for Eider’s face. Eider whimpered and tried to turn away but couldn’t leave, not with the Seocurian guards watching over them.

Here it goes.

“Can you be quiet?”

Eider, shaking with terror underneath Kal’s glove, nodded. Irso continued to glare but remained quiet. Ulyaa continued to look away and said nothing.

“Do you remember a Half-Breed Feline Beast-kin? Don’t say anything, just nod if you do.” Eider nodded and so too did Irso. Ulyaa frowned and looked between Eider and Irso, memories fluttering through her mind.

Kal looked at Verona and caught her eye. Verona winked, walked to the iron bars and began talking with the guards, waving to the far side of the cell. All the guards were distracted.

“Here goes,” Kal mumbled, to which Irso continued to frown. “Well, that’s me. I’m Kal. The one that escaped all those winters ago. Do you remember me?”

Eider’s eyes widened in shock but Kal moved to cover her mouth. Kal took her hand and used a claw to push hard on her hand. She felt the resistance and Eider’s eyes widened again. Eider looked at Irso and Ulyaa and nodded gently.

“But…why?” Irso asked in the faintest whisper. She remembered the slight crackling echo the Drakeling’s voice had. “How? What are you doing back here?”

“We’ve come to rescue you. As many as we can.”

“Thank Tethra,” Eider whispered through Kal’s glove. She slowly took it away and Eider relaxed a little. “But…How are you safe and in Seocuria?”

Eider emphasised her S’s. She didn’t look straight at Kal’s mask but she didn’t appear to be averting her gaze.

I’m so sorry Eider. If you get too bad at work they just kill you…That’s why you were so afraid and Irso tried to protect you.

Kal placed her hand on Eider’s face again and chanted a healing prayer in her mind, just like Anton did, to heal her eyes. The white faded away and they darted around in shock.

“What? How?”

“We’ll talk later.” Kal looked around. The other Beast-kin were trying to listen in. They needed to be brought along otherwise they might tell the Seocurian guards for favours. Then it would be almost impossible to get more slaves. “But…Where is Marion? Where is my mother?”

Tears welled in Eider’s eyes. “I’m sorry Kal. She was taken by the guards about five days ago.”

Kal’s heart raced but she forced herself to be calm.

“What happened?”

“Apparently she attacked a guard.” Eider shook her head. “Though we don’t believe it. Since she gave birth to you they thought that she might do it again. But she never did. Not since you. And…They tried.”

Kal felt the tears roll down her face as she imagined what her mother faced every day and night. Even while she frolicked with Anton and Verona.

“So where is she now?”

“I heard them saying something about the Pink Celestial.” Irso shook her head. “Even after putting us all in this place that…that thing still exists. I think she’s there.”

Kal barely heard Irso’s last words. Panic surged through her as the memories of that place came back. Kal had never seen it herself but she had heard stories of what happened in there, and what was left of those that came out. Lucia, a young canine girl, a few winters older than herself, went in as a happy and rebellious girl and came out a broken, drugged crazed whore slavering for sex and release. And she was barely old enough to be called a woman.

Eider poked Kal with her foot and brought her back to the present. “I’m sorry Kal. But there’s nothing we could have done.” A look of shame washed over her face. “Otherwise we would have been taken with her.”

Ulyaa winced. “Sorry, but we’re not brave enough to try and save her. Not that we could actually do anything if we did…”

“It’s…It’s okay. But it was only five days ago? That means there’s still time.”

“I know there’s a sale from the Pink Celestial today,” Irso whispered. “There’s a chance that she’ll be there, so they can make some quick money. Sell her cheap. There were some riots in the north and they’ve got a whole bunch of Beast-kin going through that place. Far too many. Maybe she’ll be sold with them, I don’t know.”

Kal grit her teeth. “Hold on. We’ll get you out of here, and anyone listening in.”

A few Beast-kin slaves shuffled nervously.

It’s not too late yet. Not yet, not after coming this far. Just hold on for a bit longer Marion.

---[]---

Anton looked over the Beast-kin slaves again. While he wanted to smile, as Kal appeared to have found someone she knew, he had to remain calm and somewhat disinterested in the state of the slaves. Now that he was staying in one place the pervasive smells of the Beast-kin slaves were starting to get to him. He wanted to do something more than just staring at the slaves but couldn’t risk blowing their cover. Not when they were so close.

Adara had just finished explaining the advantages of canine and feline Beast-kin for harvesting from fruit trees. Anton was barely interested in their justification for using Beast-kin as slaves. While he would have argued that was not going to help right now.

“Oh, it seems that your companions have made their decision,” Adara said.

“Not that many are standing up,” Cetina said worryingly to Anton.

Kal stopped Verona just as they exited the cell and spoke into her ear for a moment. Verona nodded and smiled as she approached, Kal looked a little shaky.

“Could you please give us a moment?” Verona asked. “We just need to quickly discuss something and then we’ll make the purchase.”

“Of course.” Adara stepped away alongside the Seocurian guards. They moved to the cell on the opposite side and looked at the Beast-kin there. Those slaves looked utterly terrified to be under their scrutiny.

“What have you found?” Anton whispered.

“I found three people that I know. The Cobra, the Drakeling and the Arachnid.” Anton glanced to where Kal had been kneeling for a minute. “We need to buy them and everyone nearby. They listened in and they’ll talk if we don’t get them out.”

“Right. And your mother?”

Kal whimpered. She took a deep breath and scrunched her fists. “She’s been taken to the Pink Celestial. It’s a place where Beast-kin go to be trained. To become…pets.”

“Oh…”

Not after all this, to have her mind broken…

“But there’s meant to be a sale today. And she might be there. If she’s not there we need to break in and get her out.”

“Hopefully we can get her out without going that far.” Anton looked at Adara. She was still overlooking the Beast-kin slaves. “Now, Verona, I need you to work with me on this next bit.”

“What am I doing?”

“You and I need to buy some sex slaves.”

Verona flushed lightly at his words, so too did Cetina. Anton smiled and waited a few seconds for their flush to fade before getting Adara’s attention.

“Those Beast-kin will be good for the first purchase,” Anton said. He pointed with his hand towards the Cobra and Drakeling Beast-kin. “Our ship is The Snowberry and is currently waiting in the Danafra docks. We have a captain who is expecting them.”

“Very well.” Adara frowned lightly. “I’m afraid that Drakeling’s are not known for their compliance if you get too close to them. It’s best not to interfere with their bodies.”

“That’s not a problem. I have no intention of touching one like that. But…There is something else.”

“Something else that we can help with? You’ve already spent a bit of money already.”

“When we arrived at the port we spoke to a few people who mentioned something a bit more fun about Beast-kin, beyond just slaves to work.”

“You mean Pleasure-Kin?”

Wow.

Anton knew Kal was furious at the phrase but he had to smile and nod.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed about it.” Adara moved forward and ran her hands up his shoulder. “I indulge in them from time to time. Some of them can be quite…interesting. Especially once you teach them how to pleasure you.”

“Well,” Anton scratched his head. “I didn’t know how to say it.”

“There is a sale today, at noon, if you are interested?”

“Yes,” Anton said. “All of us will be attending.”

Adara raised a brow as she looked between the girls. Anton chuckled. “It’s not just for me.”

Adara was taken aback for a moment before her smile returned. She nodded to the Seocurian guards. They smacked an iron stick on the iron bars and entered the cell, accosting the Beast-kin around the Cobra and Drakeling and got them to stand. The guards weren’t brave enough to touch the Drakeling and almost politely asked her to stand up, which she did without resistance.

“We will hold them in another area until they have been fully catalogued and paid for.”

“Won’t they be missed from work?” Verona asked.

“No.” Adara shook her head. “The others will compensate for their absence until replacements are found.”

Didn’t think of that…What a place this is. We can’t rescue you all yet. But we will free you from this hell. Even if it takes years. As many as we can.

“Right. We can pay right now.”

“It will take some time before they can be fully catalogued.” Adara began walking towards the stairs down. “And there is some time before the auction begins. Will you be returning to your ship?”

“Unless there is somewhere to wait before the auction,” Anton said.

Adara smiled. “This way please.”

---[]---

Anton sighed as he closed the door and made sure it was locked. He felt his hands shaking and beads of sweat trailed down his face when he realised that they were safe, for now at least.

Adara led them to a room within the Slave House reception building that served as some sort of plush waiting room. Now they had some privacy for the next few hours.

Anton sat on a soft leather couch. Verona flopped onto another couch while Cetina gently sat on a plush seat. Kal remained standing near the middle of the room.

“Kal.” She barely responded to his words. “Come here.”

Kal nodded and slowly sat next to Anton. She was shaking when Anton slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her head to rest on his chest, gently caressing her head.

“You did great.” He said into her ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

Kal nodded and exhaled loudly. “I never thought I’d find her. Or even get into the city. But she’s so close. I know she is. I can feel it. And I’m afraid I’ll just fall apart when I see her. If they’ve made-”

“We’ll get her out of here before they can do anything more to her,” Anton said sternly. “And we will get her and everyone else back home safely.”

“Yeah. We will. Thanks, Anton.” Kal pushed herself upright and rubbed her legs. “Thank you, all of you. I would never have made it this far without you.”

“We’re going to be with you every step of the way,” Verona said. “Don’t you ever forget that. By the way, Anton, were you serious-”

“No,” Anton replied flatly.

Verona raised her hands. “Okay. But you just said it so honestly that I actually thought…”

Anton sighed and Verona playfully stuck out her tongue.

Kal leant back into the couch. “After all this time I’m back here…”

“What do we do now?” Cetina asked. “I don’t think we can just leave. And I feel so vulnerable without my sword.”

“I’m sure you could just punch your way out.” Verona leant up and chuckled. “I’ve seen you fight and I know you’ve got a mean swing.”

Cetina smiled faintly. “I suppose. But, what do we do?”

Anton looked at the small bowl of fruit on the table and the water in glass containers. He checked the poison immunity prayer was still working and took a bite of the fruit. It was very good, but it was ruined slightly knowing that a slave had picked this. One of the slaves that lived in that horrible dome.

“We wait. Simple as that. There’s not much else we can do that’s not going to cause a scene. And we can’t afford to blow it now that we’re so close. Not now.”

The girls nodded and Kal curled herself back into Anton’s arm. He held her hand tight while they waited for the auction to start.

Chapter 101. Vol 3 - Legal Rescue

Chapter 101:

Anton sat in silence, slowly stroking Kal’s head, and waited to be called by the slavers. Kal tried to remain as calm as possible but he could feel her tension and fear. She had kept herself together well. Verona and Cetina sat on opposite couches, Cetina kept looking around as her hands massaged her legs while Verona picked at the few pieces of food left for them. They hadn’t spoken a word and all were keeping an eye on the door.

Finally, a tiny knock came through the door.

Verona stood up. “Yes?”

“Adara sent me to tell you that the auctions are about to begin.”

“Thank you,” Verona replied. “We’ll be out in just a moment.”

Anton patted Kal’s shoulder and helped her up. “You ready?”

“No.” Kal chuckled. “But I don’t ever think I will be.”

“We’re all going to be here. Just point her out for us and we’ll do the rest.”

Kal nodded and remained at his side. Verona took a small knife from the platter of food and took hold of Anton’s other hand. She activated her power and took a small vial’s worth of blood.

“Better safe than sorry.” Verona smiled as she wiped away the blood and returned the knife.

Cetina smiled as Verona’s body stopped glowing. “That’s still weird. Especially your eyes…It’s like it’s leaking a red mist.”

“Does it?” Verona cocked her had at Anton and Kal. Her hands reached for the back of her scalp. “I hope I’m not changing again. The last time was bad enough.”

Anton kissed her forehead, calming her a little, and she opened the door. A young Seocurian woman, wearing the tight orange long dress of the Slave House, smiled and waited on the other side.

“Um. Please lead the way.” Anton said.

The woman smiled and bowed. She led them out of the building, four Seocurian guards joined them and back out and into the city. The air was very hot, almost unbearably so. They arrived during the early morning and the sun had been weak. Now, near the middle of the day, the full force of the sun was unleashed upon them. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on his face, as did Cetina’s. Verona appeared fine, her enchanted armour was keeping her cool and there was no way to tell how Kal was fairing. The Seocurian’s were suffering but nowhere nearly as bad.

And the Beast-kin have to work out in this. Bent over, in the sun, hauling and working without break. This place must be complete hell for them. But they probably don’t know anything else. How will they react to Atros?

“There you are.” Adara approached them from the Slave House’s office building. “I thought you would have already been at the auction by now.”

Anton felt his body turn cold. “We were just told that it was about to start.” He glanced at the other Seocurian woman. “Are we late?”

Adara smiled and shook her head. “No. But most people tend to get there pretty early. To get out of the sun and heat before the fun starts.”

“It wasn’t that hot in there.” Verona nodded to the building.

Cetina grunted and wiped away a thin veneer of sweat building on her face. And Kal’s face was hidden behind a mask and cloak, like a miniature oven.

“We have enchantments to keep the buildings cool.” Adara turned to the other woman. “You can return to your previous duties. I will take it from here.”

“Of course.” The woman bowed and walked back to the Slave House. Anton didn’t see anything in the way she moved that hinted at annoyance at being dismissed but he did feel a fain pinch on his side.

“Are you going to be running this auction?” Verona asked.

Adara smiled. “No. But I am involved with the organisation of the sales. Ensuring that money is paid for stock before they leave the Auction House. Things like that.”

“Does that happen often?” Anton asked.

“Not often. Not often. I don’t think we’ve had one since I’ve been working here. No one would be that stupid. If they do they’ll be captured and sold as a slave. Or worse.”

Anton looked at the rows of wooden pillars. A Beast-kin was being nailed onto a pole, with a rotting corpse on the ground. The canine thrashed and screamed but he could not break free. The guards punched his nose and he became far more compliant. He screamed in pain as the nails were rammed through his hands and feet. Kal was furious but remained stoic.

“I presume because they’ll end up right next to them?”

Adara chucked and waved at a guard. “Exactly. No one wants to end up there, surrounded by screaming and dying Beast-kin.”

The guard handed Adara a large umbrella, one that was large enough to cover several people. The spines were made from thin pieces of dark wood with a thin paper material for webbing. Anton doubted it would keep away the rain. That was something they hadn’t had to deal with yet, thankfully. Adara moved closer to Anton and made sure to cover them all in shade.

“So, shall we go?” Her voice was very sweet and almost flirty. Verona resisted the urge to roll her eyes while Kal lightly pinched his side again. Cetina looked on blankly.

“Where are we going anyway?” Anton asked as they started walking.

Adara nodded to a large building attached to the wall of the Slave House. It was probably the second or third largest building in Danafra but was far more ornate and lavish than any of the Slave House buildings. Ostentatious levels of gold and lavish hanging gardens adorned the wooden beams jutting out from the top of the building. Carts and carriages, thankfully pulled by horses and Ix, waited out the front with dozens upon dozens of Seocurian guards keeping a close eye on everything. A young Seocurian man, very well dressed, exited the Auction House and approached one of the carriages. The guards descended upon him but he was able to talk his way out and they dispersed, all bar one which stayed with him, even as he returned to the building.

“You can never be too careful.” Adara began. “Many extremely wealthy and powerful people have gathered here. And we couldn’t have them suffer any misfortune under our care.”

“Not if you wanted to remain in business,” Anton added.

“Or keep your heads,” Verona said quietly.

Adara smiled and nodded.

They approached the Auction House, Kal felt even more nervous as the Seocurian guards turned towards them. They frowned but upon seeing Adara they relaxed and returned to their duty. When they reached the top of the stairs Anton heard another carriage arriving. This was considerably larger and more ornate than the others, built from a white wood, like Kal’s bow, and drawn by four of the largest horses Anton had ever seen. It brought back memories of Qaiviel.

Adara caught his stare. “Yes. Those horses are from Qaiviel. The finest steeds you can possibly buy in the whole world. And incredibly expensive.” Adara frowned lightly. “More so since summer.”

“Clansmen?” Anton asked. “I know it’s a long way to go…through Bebbezzar, I think?”

“Not with Bebbezzar falling apart.” Adara shook her head. Cetina frowned and looked at Anton. “It’s almost impossible to get through now unless you can afford to hire a small army or hire a ship. And even then they’d still attack you.”

“What?” Cetina moved in front of Adara. “What’s happening there?”

“When were you last there?” Adara asked flatly.

Cetina coughed and calmed herself. “It’s been a while. I’ve been in Graterious for some time. But it wasn’t that bad when I…left.”

Adara ushered them underneath the protection of the building. The harsh rays of the sun disappeared and immediately Anton felt cooler. “In the past twenty or so days things have gotten much worse. The eastern provinces, on the Seocurian western border, has erupted into total revolt.”

“But the King will take care of it…Right?”

Adara winced. “No. I’m afraid that an assassin has made an attempt on his life. And while he is recovering the Merchant Princes are tearing apart the country, especially in the south. And the nobles in the centre are fighting amongst themselves for control of the regency. Quite frankly, it’s a mess.”

Cetina went silent and looked at the ground. Anton realised that he didn’t know what Cetina thought about Bebbezzar. He knew that Duran felt very proudly his homeland. Evidently, she cared to some degree.

“I…I didn’t think it would get that bad.” Cetina shook her head. “When we went through the border it wasn’t good, there were bands of peasants that had turned into bandits, but I didn’t think it wouldn’t actually fall apart.”

Adara smiled and held Cetina’s shoulder. “I may be speaking a bit of an exaggeration.” Adara tried to placate Cetina’s worry. “People like to tell impressive tales and the truth can be lost in there. But I can’t lie that it’s a bit of a mess right now. And it’s hurting our business with them as well, so we’re keeping an eye on things.”

“Is there anyone fighting to keep it together?” Anton asked.

They would probably head up to Bebbezzar someday, perhaps they would get involved in this civil war if it was still happening, and every piece of information was valuable.

Adara rubbed her chin. “I think that the royal family is still in one piece. I think they would be the most likely candidates. But we’re talking about things that we can discuss after the sale. Please, follow me.”

Adara led them inside as two large Seocurian guards opened the large heavy doors. Anton marvelled at the interior of the Auction House. The floor was a black and white marble, polished to a near mirror sheen. Large plants and small fountains filled the floor, in small circles, and many weeping vines hanged from pots hung from the ceiling. Stained glass covered the ceiling and allowed light to come through without the stinging heat. Hundreds of people filled the Auction House and not all of were Seocurians. Many were, wearing bright loose clothing, but some looked like they were from Graterious and Bebbezzar. Those from Bebbezzar dressed like Cetina but their yellow, blue and red clothes were far brighter and made from better material than Cetina’s. Even from this distance, he could see that it looked like silk. Was that the best material for this climate? Maybe they had enchantments like Verona’s armour. Those from Graterious dressed similarly to Lord Cassius. Simple yet expensive clothes. Anton’s eye was drawn to one group in particular. A man, a slim and older man with short grey hair and hooked nose, standing at the centre. He wore similar clothes to Cassius, almost the same, but his sash was green and blue. There was something about his aura, the way he carried himself with an earned self-importance, which drew his gaze.

Groups huddled around the fountains, eating and drinking while Beast-kin servers held plates nearby. The beast-kin wore something akin to a butler’s or maid’s uniform but it didn’t particularly suit them, especially with the expressions they desperately tried to hide. They held their gaze away from the humans but had to make every effort to ensure they served them perfectly. Anton saw even their hands were gloved.

“You four should find somewhere to wait until the auction begins,” Adara said. “The auction will start shortly and I need to continue with my work. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

“Hang on,” Anton said before she turned away. “How do we bid?”

“There will be someone to help you with bidding. I will make sure that someone good is assigned to you. We know that you aren’t wasting our time.”

Adara bowed her head and left them alone. Anton looked around and found a fountain that was free. Verona let out a deep breath and looked around. Anton squeezed Kal’s hand, which she returned. She was still holding together. Cetina appeared a little rattled about the revelation of Bebbezzar. He had no idea how long they would have to wait and speaking about anything other than their current situation would be preferable.

“Cetina.” Anton began. “Are you worried about Bebbezzar?”

Cetina looked at him. “I…I don’t know. I suppose since it’s my home I do, but on my journey, I didn’t feel anything for the places I went past. I guess I missed living in Thessos before…you know…but I guess that I’m worried that war will come to it. I know a few people there, good people.”

“But it’s right on the border with the Clans,” Verona said. “That can’t be safe.”

Cetina smiled. “They have high walls and lots of soldiers. They’ll be fine. When I was there they never got over the first wall.”

“But if you could go back to help, would you?”

Cetina hesitated. “I-”

Kal squeezed his hand tight as a Beast-kin server approached with a plate of food and another of what looked like wine. The male feline Beast-kin looked surprisingly well off, compared to those in the Slave House, but there was something in his eyes. Or a lack thereof. An emptiness, that not even those kept in cages held.

Anton looked at the girls who shook their heads.

“No thank you,” Anton said.

The Beast-kin’s ears twitched as he bowed his head and slunk away. Kal shook her head but said nothing. Cetina looked wistfully as the wine slowly drifted away.

“I don’t know.” Cetina continued. “I honestly don’t know. When I heard it was falling apart my heart just moved on its own. But there’s not much I could do. I only have a sword and a dented shield. And even though I know you three are strong I don’t know what you could do to fix it. Whatever that even means. It’s a big place.”

“Maybe we’ll get there, one day,” Anton said. “We’ll definitely take you as a guide.”

Cetina smiled. “Maybe. At least I won’t look odd in these clothes compared to everyone else.”

A loud bell cut through the murmuring of the people’s chatter. Adara stood above them on a small podium. “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for waiting. We will now proceed with the auction. If you would please follow your designated attendants we will begin.”

“Where’s ours?” Verona asked.

Anton looked through the crowds. He saw young Seocurian women, again wearing the tight orange dresses, paired off with the groups. Some were talking with just one person but Anton couldn’t see any approaching them. Eventually saw a Seocurian woman approaching them with a soft smile on her face.

“Excuse me for interrupting but I have been assigned to you for this auction.”

“Excellent.” Anton smiled and tried to sound upbeat. “We were starting to think that no one would be coming.”

She smiled and bowed her head. “We would never do such a thing. You are a valued customer. If you would please follow me we will proceed with the auction.”

She led them through the main foyer, waiting for most of the other groups to pass, and deeper into the building. The Beast-kin servers slunk away without making a sound, no one paid them much attention. Anton saw one, the male feline that had tried to serve them earlier, put something into his pocket. A coin purse, a very small one. Anton suppressed a smile as the Beast-kin patted the pocket in his butler’s uniform. There was some resistance from the Beast-kin slaves, but another slave would probably be punished for the theft.

They travelled through two large doors, flanked by Seocurian Guards, and into a large auditorium. At the front lay a massive raised platform. Along the front Seocurian guard’s stood with their back to them and archers stood at the side with their bows out and an arrow nocked. Anton doubted the chances of any beast-kin trying to make a break for freedom. Throughout the auditorium lay small circular booths. They were tall enough to see over even when sitting down, cosy but still open. Many more people had already assembled inside. The young woman led them to a booth near the front and directed them to have a seat.

The woman produced a ream of paper. “I am required to ask this, but can you read?”

Anton nodded. “I can. But I would still prefer if you would explain how this is supposed to work.”

“Of course. I just needed to check.” The woman moved close to Anton, which slightly annoyed Verona. “The auction is incredibly similar to bartering. Stock will be displayed and you can bid on purchasing that piece of stock. Of course, others are open to bid at a higher price, at which time you may bid again at a higher price.”

Seems standard. Though Kal’s getting more pissed each time she hears Beast-kin referred to as stock. How will she handle seeing her mother up there?

“Do we have a placard or something to hold up?”

The woman handed over a thin piece of wood with the number forty-seven in bright red paint. “Simply raise that when they call out a stock number and place your bid. It’s very simple and easy. I will record your bids and purchases.”

“So what’s on sale today?” Verona asked. She appeared very uncomfortable to talk about Beast-kin that way.

The woman looked through several sheets of rough paper. “Today we have some special stock to be sold. To start with we have some worker batches but the most interesting sales are regarding the special companions.”

“I was told those would be sold today,” Anton said, trying to remain calm and indifferent. “How many are we talking?”

“Currently there is an abundance in the training houses, so there’ll be quite a few. Quite a variety in type and cost. So there’ll be something for everyone.” A sly smile graced her face. “For boys and girls alike.”

Verona forced a smile while Cetina kept watch on the surroundings.

You work them as slaves but are more than willing to have sex with them? I’m sure that’s hypocritical.

Another bell rang out from the stage. A female canine Beast-kin, her fur a light brown with white patches, walked onto the stage and smiled warmly at the crowd below. She wore virtually nothing; a see-through dress hanging from her waist and a tight bra over some modest sized breasts. Anton frowned as he saw she had golden piercings on her bellybutton, her nipples and her groin, a thin golden chain connecting each of them. Small golden clips were fastened on the bottom of her short and upright ears and golden bands on her small bushy tail.

“Lucia…” Kal whimpered faintly. “What have they done to you?”

Anton said nothing and checked that the Seocurian woman didn’t hear anything. Lucia rang a bell and the murmuring died away.

“Everyone! Welcome to the Auction House!” Lucia spoke clearly and with great enthusiasm. Too much enthusiasm for a slave.

Anton saw she had a tongue piercing, again made from gold, but her eyes disturbed him most. They brown eyes twitched and darted about too much, her pupils were almost constricted to pinpricks. Her clawed fingers twitched and her feet scratched at the wooden floor. She looked like she was on drugs. Powerful drugs.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cetina asked, a frown on her face.

The Seocurian woman glanced a Lucia as she almost started dancing and swaying her hips. “Lucia, our loyal servant. She keeps things fresh and interesting. She has a lot of energy, even without the Purple Shade.”

Kal’s hand squeezed down hard. He would need to ask later.

“Without any further ado.” Lucia lent forward and licked her lips. “Let’s get the sales started!”

The crowd cheered, more subdued than Lucia’s attitude, and Lucia stepped to the side. A large torrent of worker Beast-kin, wearing nothing other than thin rags over their genitals, were brought out. Each had their hands and legs bound by metal cuffs and to one another in a line. They looked pretty good, compared to those in the Slave House, but they looked tired and empty. Lucia stepped to the side as Seocurian guards moved onto the stage and arranged the slaves in a line.

“The bidding will start right now.” Lucia winked at them. “I hope you are ready, because these big boys and girls are going to sell fast.”

Anton had no capability to buy any more worker slaves, the ship was already basically full, but he still didn’t like seeing them paraded around like cattle. They sat in silence as Lucia directed the sales. She loudly shouted prices, rapidly rising and pointed at the bidders, smiling wider as the prices rose. Anton saw the looks of the Beast-kin as their prices rose. Their eyes were kept down but every so often they would glance at Lucia with outright hostility.

Of course they’re going to be pissed. Having a fellow slave sell you off, with such glee and enthusiasm, I’d be pissed as well.

The first batch of slaves was sold off for what Anton guessed for a reasonable price. Lucia clapped as they were dragged away by the Seocurian guards. Another group was brought out as a Beast-kin server approached with a platter of fruit. She placed it on the table and quickly scurried away. The fruit looked good and they nibbled on the food, except for Kal who kept close and breathing deep and slow in an attempt keep herself calm. The Seocurian woman with them also partook but didn’t seem worried or concerned that they show no interest in purchasing any slaves.

After nearly an hour the workers were finished. Anton felt drained watching these people go off to their fate. If he didn’t have a reason to stay he would have left already. Lucia stepped off the stage for a moment, talked with a Seocurian guard and received a mug of water. Before she drunk it she begged the guard for something. He produced a small purple pill and held it above her. She whimpered and begged, running a hand seductively along his chest, before he smiled and dropped the pill into the water. Her eyes widened and she sculled the water in a few seconds. She didn’t care as the water spilt out of her mouth and onto her see through clothes. Her shaking and twitching calmed. She returned to the stage, not caring the water made the clothes stick to her body.

“What an exciting sale so far.” Lucia’s voice was lighter and more relaxed than before. “Now that we’ve got them done with we can get onto the stuff I know you have come for today.”

The crowd chuckled as Lucia nodded to a guard on the side of the stage. The guards brought out another line of Beast-kin but these were different to the workers paraded before. While the Beast-kin before had been the more common types; Canines, Felines, Reptiles and Turtles, these slaves had much more variety. A few were Cobras and some were Minotaurs and one was even a Drakeling. They wore far better clothing, not simple rags but clothes more like Lucia’s. They were designed to be titillating and enticing, showing skin and curves to entice their potential buyers. Even though their hands were bound they tried to cover their bodies but it was a pointless endeavour. The chains connecting them in a line were unlocked by a Seocurian guard. Two guards pushed a feline female forward. She looked quite young, perhaps barely fifteen or sixteen, and looked terrified at the people in the crowd.

“A young and beautiful feline.” Lucia walked towards the young woman. “She, and everyone here have only spent a few days in training. So…” Lucia saw the look of scorn from the other Beast-kin but only smiled. “Don’t worry, sweetie, soon enough you’ll have a master that’ll make you feel fantastic.”

The feline recoiled but a Seocurian guard pushed her back to the centre.

“So, let’s start the bidding.”

Anton turned to the Seocurian woman. “How long do Beast-kin stay in training?”

“About forty days at most. But we’ve had quite a few troublemakers within the general slave population, so there’s been a massive influx. Usually, they wouldn’t be sold until they’ve been fully trained but they’re taking up too much room and we need to sell them. There’s also less chance of death as they haven’t undergone much training.”

“How bad is it?”

“About thirty to forty percent die before it’s completed.” The woman nodded at Lucia. “But when they’re done they’re completely loyal and docile. Like Lucia up there.”

So long as you keep feeding them drugs. But at least I know what I’ll need to heal when we find Kal’s mother.

The feline was sold for quite a low price, Anton guessed from the look of disappointment on Lucia’s face. Tears flowed down her face, which only seemed to encourage some members of the audience, but she was dragged off the stage. Lucia sold each slave individually, the Drakeling sold for a huge price, until all were sold.

The second batch of slaves was brought out. Many of the Beast-kin were very large, some were Minotaurs, but these Minotaurs didn’t have the empty look as their fellows. The Seocurian guards started to unlink all the Beast-kin from each other. The moment they were unlinked fro they charged towards the crowd. The Seocurian woman backed into Anton and pushed him back further, Cetina drew a hidden blade and Verona hovered her hand over her clay vials. The three Minotaurs held the eyes of the damned, one born of desperation and defiance. They were not going to be sold off as personal slaves. Just as they reached the edge of the stage two fell limp. Their large frames’ inertia carried them off the stage and onto the floor. Large black arrows jutted from their necks and blood pooled around their body. The remaining Minotaur glanced at his dead comrades and then to the Seocurian guards rapidly approaching. More guards poured into the room and formed a protective wall between the Minotaur and the audience.

Lucia stepped forward, still on the stage, and tried to get the Minotaur’s attention.

“Do you want to die?” she asked. “Are you stupid? If you take another step they’ll kill you, just like they killed your friends.”

“I won’t-”

An arrow pierced his neck and silenced the Minotaur. He staggered for a moment before falling back against the stage. Lucia shook her head and rubbed her forehead. The Seocurian guards began to disperse as Beast-kin slaves emerged to remove the bodies. Several were needed for each one and smaller Beast-kin started to clean up the blood.

“Please…Please forgive the interruption and delay.” Lucia said, panic clear in her voice. “Once this has been dealt with we will continue. Please enjoy our free refreshments.”

Anton looked around. The buyers did as she said and began chatting amongst themselves, completely ignoring the dead Minotaurs. Those still on the stage were now watched far more closely by the Seocurian guards.

“Sorry.” The Seocurian woman gently lifted herself off Anton and back to her old position. “I got a little nervous there.”

“Does this happen often?” Anton asked. “I don’t know if I feel particularly safe right now.”

“I-I can assure you that something like this hasn’t happened in some time. This is exceptionally rare.”

“Your response was very quick,” Cetina said. Verona nodded in agreement.

“The guards practice daily in preparation. I can assure you that something like this will not happen again and that our business is secure.”

Anton nodded non-committal. She looked towards the stage as canine Beast-kin cleaned up the blood.

“You poor fools,” Kal whispered. “At least you aren’t going to suffer anymore.”

Anton didn’t have anything to say. They waited until the blood was removed and the auction continued as normal. Lucia, under instruction from someone to the side, threw in some bonuses to purchasing the next slaves to rebuild the buying atmosphere. It worked very quickly and the enthusiastic bidding began once again. It amazed Anton how quickly they forgot that three Beast-kin had just died. But if he saw three chickens die in front of him he would feel bad for a while but it wouldn’t stop his day. That’s how nearly everyone in this place saw the Beast-kin.

Another three batches of slaves were brought out but none were the one they were looking for. What disturbed him most was the way the Beast-kin were degrading as time went on. They started to look more and more like Lucia, at least the way their hands and fingers twitched. Anton wasn’t liking Marion’s chances.

When the fifth batch of slaves was brought out Kal let out a tiny squeak. The Seocurian woman looked to Kal but turned back to the stage. The slaves were brought out and Kal pulled close.

“I can see her.” She whispered. “The tall feline fifth from the left. That’s her. I know it.”

Anton looked to the Beast-kin. She was a tall feline Beast-kin with dark aqua fur like Kal. Her tail looked a little similar to Kal’s but lacked the three fans, instead just one. And her eyes looked almost identical to Kal’s. She really did look like Kal’s mother. Anton knew it was wrong to notice right now but she had Kal’s hips and a bust bigger than Verona’s. Verona and Kal had told him that but he didn’t expect it to be quite so obvious.

Anton signalled to Verona to move closer.

“We’ve got her,” Anton whispered to Verona. “Fifth from the left.”

Verona looked around his head. “Yeah. I can see the resemblance. She’s really pretty. So what do we do?”

Anton looked at the line of slaves. “We can’t just buy her by herself. Might raise questions. We’ll buy the two either side so it doesn’t look too weird. Like we decided to buy a batch.”

To Marion’s left stood a blue-skinned female Minotaur, easily three meters tall, with a large orange and red horn sticking out of her forehead and parting her long red hair. Her long red hair almost reached her hips and were bound with small black bands. Long ears, twice as long as a human’s, were pulled back and mostly hidden by rough strands of hair, several golden clips were clipped on the bottom. Her face looked like the Minotaurs he had seen before, almost like a human’s with a slightly larger nose. She had hooves for feet and large, strong legs. Her tail was small, like all Minotaurs he had seen and slowly swayed in the air. She lacked any real fat except for a quite large pair of breasts, slightly bigger than the previous Minotaurs.

On Marion’s right stood a male Minotaur but he was a little different compared to the others again. He was a little smaller than a normal male Minotaur but he had their muscle mass. Horns grew above his ears into short black hair, the tips had been filed smooth, which grew into a tight swirl. A small tail with a black tuft of hair on the end hanged low between his legs. Like the other male Beast-kin, he wore only a loincloth which left little to the imagination.

“Who’s meant to be getting who?” Verona smiled slyly.

Anton rolled his eyes. Verona chuckled and motioned for Cetina to come close. She turned to Cetina and started whispering in her ear. Cetina returned it but she appeared a little awkward.

Kal squeezed his hand. “I…I think I know that Minotaur. The blue one. I pretty sure she’s got Oni blood in her. That’s why she’s got the horn growing out of her head. And blue skin. I’m sure I know her. I don’t know the other one.”

“Oni…That’s…Hmm. Well, we’ll definitely get all them then.”

Verona patted Cetina’s leg and she shuffled back to her previous position. Verona nodded and leant to Anton’s ear.

“I just asked Cetina and, if we need to, she’s willing to give us enough money to buy them.”

Anton nodded. He would need to thank Cetina when they were back on the ship.

Lucia moved through the Beast-kin slaves until she reached the blue-skinned Minotaur. “Here we have a lovely Minotaur, with Blue Oni blood mixed in. A very rare specimen.”

Lucia smiled and the Minotaur scowled. Lucia chuckled and strode to the front of the stage. “A very rare specimen. The bidding will start at four hundred silver.”

“How much?” Verona asked.

“Crossbreeds are a rare thing.” The Seocurian woman chimed in. “Of any kind, and they always go for very high prices. Usually they don’t live until adulthood. Let alone this old.”

“Four fifty!” Lucia pointed to a group far away.

There was information that could be gleaned but they needed to still buy this Beast-kin. He passed the wooden paddle to Verona. She scrambled to catch it and raised it high. Lucia pointed at them and the price increased by another fifty silver.

“Why are crossbreeds rare?” Anton asked. Kal’s hands tightened on his. “Is it difficult for them to be conceived? Or are they not liked by the Seocurian masters?”

The woman looked to Anton as the price rose again, that Verona immediately countered.

“My employer doesn’t have a problem with them…”

She smiled. “It makes cataloguing the Beast-kin quite difficult, it’s important to know for planning, but we don’t have a problem with them. Interesting breeds can emerge. Like the Cobras. Though that was forced. But we don’t have a real concern with cross-breeds. They can work like everyone else. It’s the Beast-kin that have a problem with them.”

“They…”

“Yes.” Kal’s hand became deathly tight. “They kill them. Usually in the night when they’re sleeping. A group will hold back the mother and kill the child.” She chuckled as she looked back to the stage. Lucia was searching for more bidders but Verona currently held the highest. “Strangled or battered to death usually. She was lucky to not live with the Beast-kin puritans. You’d think slaves would have something better to do than killing innocent children.”

The woman smirked and looked to the stage. Lucia tried one last time to raise the bid but it was unsuccessful. She slapped her hands and announced the blue Minotaur was theirs. The Seocurian woman made a note on the paper and continued looking at the stage. Anton looked to Kal, though her face was hidden by her mask he could feel her shame. The shame at her own kind’s behaviour. She had told them that Half-breeds, with humans, were deeply despised due to their obvious relation to their masters, but she hadn’t told him about this aspect. Perhaps it was too difficult to say, that they could be just as brutal and cruel as their masters. Perhaps their circumstances made it even worse. Either way, it didn’t matter. He patted her hand, he couldn’t say anything right now to comfort her, but he wanted to let her know that he didn’t think any of this was her fault.

I didn’t think they would fight each other when they’ve got bigger threats. The Seocurians seem to think that as well. They must be laughing behind the Beast-kin’s backs every time that happens. But there must be a reason just beyond maintaining genetic purity. But what could it be? I’ll guess I’ll ask them when we’re free of this place.

“Next, we have a very special item.” Lucia began, speaking softly so people at the back turned quiet to listen in. “One of the few Beast-kin to successfully give birth to a human half-breed.”

That brought extreme interest from the crowd. Anton looked around and saw everyone leaning forward and speaking with their Seocurian offsiders.

This is going to get expensive.

Anton reached over and took the paddle from Verona. He readied himself to burn through most of their funds.

“Yes…Very interesting.” Longing, perhaps regret, flashed over Lucia’s face but it barely lasted a second before she returned to her unusually happy state. “She hasn’t been able to do so again but who knows.” Lucia leant forward and licked her upper lip. “Perhaps one of you will be to change that. They would sell for a small fortune.” Again the emotion flashed across her face. “So…The bidding will begin at twenty gold coins.”

Anton almost chocked at the price. So too did Verona and Cetina. Kal appeared just as shocked. Anton raised the paddle and Lucia pointed to him.

“Twenty-one gold!”

Marion scrunched her eyes tight and fought back tears. If someone else got a hold of her he knew what they would want from her. What she expected them to do to her…

Immediately the bidding war started. The price rapidly reached forty gold coins. Anton’s main rival was the old Graterious man. He appeared unconcerned with the high price, there was nothing on his face that even hinted at the amount of money he would potentially be spending. He didn’t turn his head towards Anton but his eyes were watching him. Finally, at sixty-seven gold, he gave up. Anton felt a wave of relief wash over him as Lucia gave the final call and announced they had won the bid. Kal was almost bursting with joy despite having to remain completely still. As he wondered if they should actually buy the next Beast-kin a look from Marion gave him pause. She looked at the smaller Minotaur beast-kin with longing and impending loss. They weren’t just two slaves put together, they were close. Very close. He looked at her too in deep worry as he was pushed forward to the centre of the stage.

Maybe they’re lovers? I know from that look that they don’t hate each other. We should probably get him just to be sure.

Lucia smiled. “What an interesting previous purchase. Now we have a Bull Beast-kin, think a slightly smaller Minotaur, one of the few this far north. The starting bid is two hundred silver coins.”

Nowhere near as much. This time I won’t go too hard at the beginning.

The bid started off similarly, but Anton noticed that most of the bidders were women. Unfortunately, a rivalry between a group of Seocurian and Graterious women flared up and the price spiralled out of control. When it reached three gold coins the bidding frenzy began to peter out. Anton spied their Seocurian woman smiling warmly. She caught his eye.

“Male Beast-kin can be quite fun. If they know what they’re doing. Especially someone as strong and muscular.” She chuckled and revisited some pleasant memory.

Anton nodded and raised the paddle. She seemed a little surprised but her professionalism took over. There were no more bids and Lucia announced them as the winner. The Seocurian woman noted it. Anton lent back into the couch, holding Kal’s hand tight, as they watched the continuing parade of flesh in silence.

---[]---

Several hours passed before the entire auction was finished. Anton felt drained, watching the auction in full. And seeing those three Minotaurs slain without a moment’s hesitation didn’t help. Despite everything, they had what they needed. Once the auction was finished Lucia thanked them for their time and purchases and they were led back to the main foyer. Quite a few were led to other areas within the Auction House. Anton realised they were probably being considered to be some sort of high rollers, doubly so with how much money they had just spent. Between them they had just enough gold coins on them. Anton handed them to the Seocurian woman and she scurried off to finalise their transaction.

They stood near the bubbling fountain they had before and stared at the gently flowing water. Kal was nearly jumping for joy and was desperately trying to hold it in. Verona kept smiling at Kal and Cetina looked quite happy herself.

“You seemed very eager to buy that Feline.” An older voice spoke to him.

Kal’s body stiffened and her hands gripped tight. Anton looked at the source. It was the elderly Graterious man. He smiled at them but Anton didn’t like the emotion hidden behind that face. It felt…cold. Very cold.

Anton said nothing and looked blankly at the man. The man mentally stumbled a little, unaccustomed to being ignored and opened his mouth to speak again.

“You spent quite a sum on buying such a rare specimen.” He continued. “Tell me, what would you be willing to take for her?”

Anton had no intention of engaging with him, even in friendly conversation. They had what they came for and they needed to leave as soon as possible. Thankfully the assistant interrupted him and arrived at their side with three pieces of paper. The old man frowned, shrugged his shoulders and returned to his group.

The Seocurian woman handed over the pieces of paper. “Here is the documentation for your purchases. They are now yours to do with as you wish. Any damage caused by them is also your responsibility.”

Anton nodded. “As expected. Thank you. Now, where are they?”

“They are being prepared.” She replied. “Adara has already sent your slaves to your ship. You didn’t mention that you owned a ship…”

Anton smiled. “Didn’t really feel it was necessary to say. But, are we done here?”

“Yes. Thank you for your patronage and we hope that you return soon.”

“We intend to…If, if I may ask one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“My employer will have need of additional slaves but I may not be available to purchase them myself. Is there some way around that?”

“Yes. If you will give me a moment I can have something arranged.”

She bowed and left. Anton turned to the girls. “So we can keep buying without having to come here, so we can go to other places.”

Verona smiled. “Good idea. But where will we head next?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have a chat about that when we get home safe and sound. There are quite a few things that we need to deal with.”

“Not long now…” Kal whispered. Anton smiled and squeezed her hand.

The Seocurian woman returned with a small wooden plaque and handed it over. It was very simple, like the metal identification plates from the Graterious Mercenary Guild, and that displayed his name and a few other random letters and numbers.

“Anyone that has this can purchase in your name, so we know they are valid, so long as they have the money.”

“My employer might be a bit miffed about this.” Anton forced a frown that quickly turned into a smile. “But I’m sure I’ll make it work. Thank you again.”

“May you have a good day and return soon.” She bowed low and left.

Anton turned to leave, after taking Kal by the elbow, and saw the elderly Graterious man out the corner of his eye watching them. He seemed annoyed that he may have been blown off but Anton didn’t want to get involved. It was clear that he wanted Marion and was willing to pay whatever he needed to, but she was not for sale. Not now. Not ever.

---[]---

Anton watched the last of the Beast-kin slaves boarding The Snowberry. They looked horribly depressed as they drudged up the gangplank and onto the ship. Seocurian guards, from the Slave House, prodded the Beast-kin to keep them moving. Wilford stood next to him and was talking through the lists of supplies he had bought. Anton didn’t know what prices the goods should have been but it really didn’t matter.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to have them on the ship?” Wilford asked. “I don’t doubt you but I know they’re bad luck.”

Anton smiled and handed over a gold coin. “You’ve done very well so far. Don’t worry so much.”

“But you’ve bought so many slaves…The ship is basically full.” Wilford nodded to some of the larger Beast-kin. Anton had bought several Minotaurs and large reptile species from the Slave House. “And those big ones. They’ll be able to tear through iron bars with no problem. Or just rip through the wood. Did you see the beak on those turtles?”

“They’ll be fine,” Anton replied. “I’ll talk to them when we set sail. They won’t rebel, I can assure you of that.”

Anton summoned a tiny flame in his hand and extinguished it immediately. Wilford looked shocked but nodded.

“I…I understand. We’ll set sail the moment everyone is on the ship.”

Wilford walked up to another gangplank and started issuing orders to the rest of the sailors. They appeared to hold the same thoughts as Wilford.

The worker Beast-kin slaves finished boarding the ship, leaving only three slaves to board. They didn’t wear their see-through clothes like in the Auction House, they wore rough but sturdy shirts and pants, but they looked even more depressed than the normal slaves. They must have thought they were being led to a terrible fate. How wrong they were. He saw Marion on the verge of tears as the Seocurian guards pushed them up onto the ship. He, and especially Kal, wanted to say something but they still had a part to play.

A Seocurian guard approached Anton. “You should know those three haven’t gone through the full training program. They won’t be completely loyal…”

Meaning they’ll probably try to rip my throat out if I try and rape them. How kind of you to point that out.

“We understand and will take it into consideration,” Anton replied.

The Seocurian guard’s face softened. “You’ll need these.” He handed over a small bag. Inside were hundreds of small purple pills, just like the ones given to Lucia. “If they start acting up just give them one of those. They’ll become docile really quick, especially after what they’ve been through.”

Anton smiled and nodded. The soldier whistled to his friends and they left the dock. Anton took a deep breath and they walked onto the ship. Wilford ordered his sailors to begin casting off.

“Where are they?”

“Down below,” Wilford replied. “This ship wasn’t set up for slaves so we had to modify a few things.”

“What do you mean, modify?” Verona asked.

“We’ve put iron loops onto the side of the hull and support beams. Their chains have been fastened to those so they can’t move too much.”

Anton nodded. “And the last three?”

Wilford looked more than a little disgusted. “The Seocurian’s told me what they are for…While I don’t agree with it...They have been chained to a room on the bottom of the ship. Here are the keys.”

“Thank you. Set sail for Rusaddir.”

“Are…Are you serious?”

“Yes. But we won’t be stopping there for long. Just enough to resupply.”

Wilford looked genuinely glad. Perhaps he didn’t want to have his friends back home know what he was doing. Either that he thought they would be attacked for bringing Beast-kin to eastern Graterious.

“As you wish.”

Wilford returned to organising the sailors.

Anton looked at Kal. “Are you ready?”

Kal weakly reached for his hands. She was shaking and shivering. “No…But you’ll be with me. Right?”

“We will. All of us will.”

“Okay…”

Kal wasn’t willing to go first. He led them down the levels of the ship. Cetina made a noise when they reached they reached the level of their rooms.

“What about Luna?” She asked. “Is she going to be alright?”

“I’ll check.” Verona ran towards their room. “I’m not going to miss this.”

“Is it alright if I come with you?” Cetina asked. “Since this really doesn’t involve me.”

“Yes,” Kal said, her voice shaking. “I think I’ll need everyone to get through this.”

“But isn’t this a happy moment for you?” Cetina raised a brow. “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah. And that’s why I’m so nervous.”

Verona skipped along the wooden floor. “Luna’s fine. She was asleep the whole time, but she has licked up some of the milk we left out. Seems she doesn’t need the cloth to suckle from now.”

Verona led them down the stairs and to the bottom of the ship. There he saw the Beast-kin slaves shackled to the hull and support beams. Their faces were blank and their eyes empty. Some shuffled away from their sight but most didn’t seem to care.

“I can’t see your friends,” Anton said.

“Um…They’re right at the back.” Verona pointed. “They’re the only ones that look anything other than depressed.”

Anton saw the three. They did look a bit better than the others.

“We’ll talk to them once we’ve got this done.” Anton squeezed Kal’s hand. “You’ve waited so long for this and we shouldn’t stretch it out any longer.”

Kal nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the door. They stepped inside the dimly lit room, only a single small glowing crystal to provide light, and saw the three chained to a central wooden pillar. As Anton didn’t want the other Beast-kin to hear something so private he closed the door once they were inside.

Anton stepped forward and was about to push Kal forward when his eyes were drawn to the Bull’s Beast-kin’s hands. While Marion and the blue Minotaur had their hands fastened above them the Bull didn’t. His were hidden behind his back. His eyes and Anton’s locked and he saw the anger and desperation within. He leapt to his feet and ran towards him. Anton pushed Kal out of the way and prepared to fire a lightning bolt but he wasn’t fast enough to create a bolt that wouldn’t outright kill him. As Kal tumbled to the side Anton took another step back as a massive muscular hand reached for his throat. The fingers managed to find purchase and both crashed into the wall behind. Verona’s body glowed red and she tried to summon the blood but it was too old for her to control. Anton struggled to breathe as the Bull’s hand crushed down on his throat. Cetina elbowed him hard in the guts, Verona kicked him in the groin, but even then he wouldn’t let go. It gave Anton a moment to catch a tiny breath. The Blue Minotaur struggled to break free, the wood holding her back splintered and frayed. A hand ripped free but a quick rage-filled glare from Verona stopped her dead.

“No! Stop!” Kal shrieked. “Don’t hurt him!”

Anton fired a weakened bolt directly into the Bull’s body. His hands snapped back as he staggered away. The bolt should have knocked him flat but his size granted him some immunity. His hands refused to close properly and his legs couldn’t move well, even his mouth twitched uncontrollably. Verona and Cetina scrunched their fists and punched him hard in his nose. He fell back onto the wooden floor with a heavy thud. Cetina grunted while Verona shook her hand and bared her teeth.

“Fuck! That fucking hurts.” Verona smiled and looked at the comparatively calm Cetina. “How the hell do you do that without it hurting?”

“Practice.” She mumbled. “It still hurts…”

Anton spluttered to recover his breath. Kal ran to his side, he could hear her muffled cries as she picked him up.

“I’m fine,” Anton said as he patted her hand, his voice was still rough. He patted her hand and chanted a prayer to heal his throat. “I’m fine.”

Kal snapped her head to the Bull as he slowly started to recover. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Everyone recoiled from the volume Kal’s shouts.

“You could have killed him you stupid…fucking IDIOT!” Kal paced and took deep breaths, shaking her hands and rubbing her mask, her breath rasping through the confines of the mask.

“I told you not to do it,” Marion mumbled. “Now he’s going to kill you, you big dumb idiot.”

The Bull wiped away the blood from his nose. It appeared, and sounded, broken. “No one is going to rape my Marion. Ever.”

Anton summoned a small fireball. The Beast-kin looked in shock, especially the Blue Minotaur.

“Fuck.” The Blue Minotaur mumbled. “A fire mage…On a boat? Are you serious?”

Anton nodded as he dismissed the fireball. “That’s right. So all of you will just sit there unless you want to drown. And no, you aren’t going to be raped. None of you are.”

They looked more than a little dubious. The Bull shuffled back to the central pillar and wiped away the blood that continued to drip from his broken nose.

“Why should we believe you?” Marion’s voice was almost identical to Kal’s.

Anton pushed Kal forward.

“Okay…I…” Kal fingers fidgeted. “I…”

“What?” Marion asked. “Is this some sort of pet you’re going to set on us? For sport or for your sick desires? Well?”

“You’re going to regret saying that in a second.” Anton said.

He turned Kal around, removed her mask and her hood. Cloth still bound her hair and ears. As Kal’s hair and ears burst free the three Beast-kin looked on in shock and surprise. Kal, however, couldn’t turn around.

“You can’t be serious.” Marion growled. “You actually got a Beast-kin…”

“I...I can’t…” Kal whispered, her eyes full of tears.

“It’ll be fine,” Anton replied. “Just listen to what your heart tells you.”

He turned her around. The Blue Minotaur and Bull’s eyes widened in shock while Marion looked confused.

“Hello…Mother.” Kal whispered. “I…I came back.”

Marion’s eyes slowly widened. “What is this? Is…No. Kal? My Kal?”

Kal nodded. “I’m sorry it took so long. I…I’m sorry it…”

Tears poured down Kal’s face.

“But how?” Marion asked, tears welling in her own eyes. “It’s been so long…I thought you were gone forever. I thought I would never see you again. I…”

Anton gently pushed Kal forward. She didn’t resist and ran at her mother with tears streaming down her face, colliding with her chest. Marion burst into tears and tried to hold her daughter but her hands were still bound. Anton stepped forward with the key, eyeing the bleeding Bull Beast-kin and released her chains. She looked at Anton, who could only smile back, and held her daughter tight, her Beast-kin claws digging into Kal’s armour as she embraced her daughter for the first time in over twenty years. They didn’t speak a word. Both cried as Marion clutched Kal tight, slowly rocking back and forth, cries twisting into wails as decades of pain and loss flowed forth.

Chapter 102. Vol 3 - Beast-kin in the Shadows

Chapter 102:

Anton sat on a large food crate while everyone watched in silence as Kal and Marion cried and held each other, slowly rocking back and forth. Verona sat by his side and Cetina rested against the wall, both keeping a close eye on the Bull Beast-kin. The Blue Minotaur had her hands free though she was basically free already. Anton was a little shocked to see the few splinters holding her back. Another good tug and she would have been free. She said nothing, gave a nod of appreciation and gently rubbed her wrists.

Finally, Kal and Marion started to calm down. Marion kept stroking Kal’s head and pulled her close each time. Kal pressed on her mother’s shoulders and righted herself. Marion didn’t want to let go but slowly relented. Kal shuffled and sat cross-legged in front of her.

Marion scratched her face, her hands identical to Kal. “I don’t understand. Is this a dream? Have I died?”

Kal chuckled. “I think that a lot of the time. Just about every day when I wake up.”

“But…” Marion took a deep breath. She spared a glance at Anton and Verona, a tiny frown forming on her fur covered face, then looked back to Kal. “Tell me, what happened to you? How are you alive? You were so young…How did you survive out there?”

“It wasn’t easy. But…I managed. Just.”

“Yes, but how?”

Kal took a deep breath and explained what she did after being thrown from the wall. It was just as hard as Anton thought it was. Marion and the others winced as she briefly explained the murder of the young turtle Beast-kin. Cetina covered her mouth when Kal explained how she hid the body under a pile of leaves. Marion raised her hand to stop Kal.

“That is…”

“I didn’t really mean to.” Kal winced slightly. “But I had to if I wanted to survive.”

“But you did survive.” Marion hugged Kal tight again, a mother comforting her long lost child. “My only child…But how did you get from that to where you are now?”

Marion held Kal at arm’s length and scanned her clothes and armour. Compared to the raggedy cloth they wore she wore a gown to a ball. Kal reached underneath her armour and pulled out her silver medallion. Marion nearly burst into tears again.

“You’ve kept it. After all this time.”

“I prayed to it every night. I prayed to Tethra to fulfil my deepest wishes. And now…” Kal smiled at Anton. “She has.”

Marion frowned and looked at Anton again. “Kal. Who are these humans?” she reached out and pulled Kal close. “They haven’t hurt you or forced you to do this. Have they? Make you point out good slaves?”

Kal frantically waved her hands. “No! No. I’m not a slave. I’m free. More free than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“So who are they?” she asked again.

“Um…” Kal awkwardly smiled at Anton and Verona. “Well, you probably…Okay. Anton is...well, he’s my husband.”

Marion’s eyes bulged from her sockets and the other two Beast-kin looked equally surprised. Kal removed her left glove and showed off the wedding ring. The gem glinted in the dim light. Marion gently took Kal’s hand and inspected the ring.

“It’s real,” Marion whispered. “How much did this cost?”

“Lots.” Kal smiled. “But what matters most is who gave it to me.”

Kal looked at Anton then to Verona. “And the silver-haired woman sitting next to him is Verona. She…” Kal groaned and scrunched her eyes. “And I are sister-wives, I think it’s called. We’re both married to Anton. Together.”

“Wow.” The Blue Minotaur laughed and smiled at Anton. “What did you have to do for them to agree to that?”

Anton chuckled. “Nothing much. Besides, I don’t think I look that bad.”

She laughed a deep laugh and looked at Marion. “Doesn’t seem so bad. For a human.”

“I…” Marion couldn’t form words. She shook her head and let out a grunt. “How could you fall in love with a human? After everything they’ve done to our kind? Have…Have you had sex?”

Kal nodded. Marion looked even more bewildered. “Even after everything they’ve done to us?”

“Anton is different,” Kal stated adamantly. “When I revealed myself to them-”

“You showed your face to humans?!”

“Yes. I was extremely nervous when I did, and I thought they might just kill me, but Anton held no malice or hate towards me. Neither did Verona. Instead of anger he looked confused and intrigued, there was no hate in his eyes. He fought for me to stay in Atros when everyone wanted me gone or dead. He told them I was staying no matter what. He treated me like an equal. Something I have never felt before. My feelings grew and now…I’m his wife.”

“But with-”

Kal chuckled and smiled. “Yes. With Verona as well. She gave me a little push so I could say my true feelings but I’m very happy that she did. I’ve never been so happy before. And now, together, we’ve managed to save you.”

Marion shot Anton a dirty look but he ignored it. No one wanted to hear their daughter had willingly entered a polygamous relationship.

“But…You’re with humans-”

“Mother,” Kal spoke deeper and colder than before. “I know that you may not agree with what I have done or who I am with but, I chose this. I want this. They are the ones that accepted me for who I am without any hesitation or reservation. Without these humans, you would be heading towards a hell that you could not escape. To be used worse than a whore. I love Anton with every part of my being and I will never leave him, no matter what anyone says. Not even you.”

Marion blinked furiously, her face stunned, while her hands fell limp into her lap. Marion held her head with both hands and took a deep breath.

“Sorry.” Kal winced slightly. “But I-”

“No.” Marion cut her off. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. This…This is all just too much and I’m acting silly. I thought that I would be someone’s whore. My mind is completely messed up and with you here now…I can’t think straight.”

Kal held her mother’s hands and the room fell silent.

“Are you guys hungry or thirsty?” Anton asked.

“Yeah.” The Blue Minotaur said. “They haven’t given us anything since the auction.”

Anton patted Verona’s back for her to stand. She stepped aside and Anton opened the crate. Inside were hundreds of pieces of dried and salted meat. Cetina nudged Anton’s side and pointed to another crate with a water droplet on the side.

“And who’s she?” Marion nodded to Cetina. “Is she…?”

Kal chuckled. “No. This is Cetina, a new friend of ours. She’s from Bebbezzar and travelling with us for the moment. She’s known that I was a half-breed for a while now.”

“You know you can’t just show that to everyone you meet.” Marion almost chastised Kal.

Kal looked at Marion with disapproving eyes. Marion winced as she realised who she was speaking to.

“To be fair,” Anton said as he lifted the lid of the crate and pulled out several large water skins. “It wasn’t on purpose. She kind of barged in one night and found out.”

“And then I had to fight her so she would stay silent,” Verona smirked at Cetina, while Cetina looked away embarrassed.

Anton passed the water-skins out and Cetina the food. All three ravenously dug into their food and sculled the water. After a few bites, Marion started crying again.

“I still can’t believe you’re still alive.”

Kal hugged her mother tight.

Verona pulled Anton to sit on the crate. “Since you know who we are why don’t you guys introduce yourselves.”

Verona nodded to the Bull Beast-kin, her face turned cold and menacing. “Starting with the one that tried to strangle our husband. The only human willing to go so far to save an ungrateful slave. If it was up to me you’d be swimming right now.”

The Bull winced and looked to Marion. She nodded. “My name is Kristof. I am a…Dwarf Minotaur.”

Anton looked him over. He seemed just a little bit shorter than Cetina. Kristof picked up on his looks.

“That’s what I actually am. The Seocurians don’t call us that. I’m not that much smaller than a Minotaur.” He nodded to the Blue Minotaur. “But I’m just as strong. They just call us Bull’s because we have these horns.”

“So why were you with the rest of them in the Auction House?” Verona asked.

Kristof glanced at Marion and blushed slightly, barely perceptible underneath his dark skin. “When Marion was taken by those guards I…assaulted them as well. I couldn’t bear to see them take her away from me.”

“Eider told me about that,” Kal said. “Did you really hit a guard?”

Marion shook her head. “No. But there was one that had taken a fancy to me and wanted me to suck his dick. I told him where to shove that tiny thing.” Marion shrugged. “And he took issue with it…Did you say Eider? Was she with the others?”

Kal nodded. “Eider, Irso and Ulyaa. They’re coming with us too.”

Marion breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Old Gods. Eider was probably going to be executed soon since she can barely see. But I’m glad that she’s safe. And the others?”

“They’re fine,” Kal said. “They were really shocked to hear that I was alive.”

Marion chuckled and smiled. “I bet they were.”

“So, Kristof.” Anton continued. “You are…with Marion?”

Kristof nodded. “Yes. About four winters ago. Things just sort of happened one night and we’ve been together ever since.”

“I’m glad that you have someone.” Kal squinted at Kristof. “Even if he did try to kill my husband.”

Kristof groaned and looked away.

“Okay.” Anton looked at the Blue Minotaur. “And who are you?”

“My name is Rasha. I’m a Minotaur with an eighth Blue Oni blood. That why I have one horn in the centre of my head instead of horns like Kristof. Or like the other Minotaurs. And blue skin.”

“I thought I remembered you,” Kal said quietly. Anton looked to Verona, who shrugged and leant on his arm. “You used to bully me.”

Rasha looked away. “I hoped you wouldn’t remember that.”

“You bullied Kal?” Anton asked, finding his voice colder than normal.

Rasha looked at his hands in fear. “I…I was much younger then. And more stupid. Than now.”

“You were six when Kal was born.” Marion quipped. “You should have known better.”

“I know that…Now.” Rasha rested her head against the wooden beam.

“Are you not well-liked by the other Beast-kin because of your breed?” Anton asked. Rasha tensed, looked down with pursed lips and gripped her hands tight. “The Seocurian woman told me that Beast-kin have problems with any sort of cross-breeding.”

All three looked away in shame.

“There…That is a problem.” Marion admitted. “Quite a lot of them don’t like any cross-breeding. They say it makes us impure. I had to fend them off when Kal was born. If we don’t have a thousand more important things to worry about.”

“The Seocurian’s thought the same thing. They thought it was funny.”

Marion scoffed. “Sickens me that we actually think alike.”

“So, Rasha.” Verona began. “Let me work this out. You were bullied because you were a cross-breed yourself. And you bullied Kal because she was even lower on the…” Verona looked at Anton. “What did you call it? That’s right, the pecking order. Because she was beneath you? In both ways.”

Rasha looked utterly ashamed and couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Anton felt it might be a little harsh to blame her for her actions, actions made decades ago made under unimaginable conditions and stress. Kal held the same thought. She let go of Marion and moved in front of Rasha. Rasha looked quite concerned as Kal took her hands. They were much larger than Kal’s and were very similar to a human’s except coloured blue.

“It was a long time ago, Rasha.” Kal began. “Though I can’t say I can just forget what you did to me, I am willing to leave it in the past. That’s what all of this is. Everything that’s happened will remain in the past…Since we’ll be living in the same city together and I don’t want to avoid one of the few people I know.”

Rasha weakly smiled. “Even though I was the one that told them that you ate those peaches…And then you got whipped?”

“That was you?” Kal didn’t sound that annoyed.

Rasha nodded, a sly smile crept up her face. “I was really hungry. And I was a growing girl. I mean, look at me. I can’t eat what they give a Beast-kin as small as you and expect to grow.”

Kal smiled, hiding her annoyance, and punched Rasha hard in the arm. Rasha yelped, something Anton didn’t expect from someone so large and strong. The look of shock quickly turned into a chuckle.

“I guess I deserve that.” Rasha massaged her arm. “I’m sorry I did what I did, Kal. It…It was stupid and wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“So, how did you manage to hook up with a human?” Rasha looked over Anton. “You never got to that part of the story. Well? How’d you do it?”

Kal chuckled. “It’s a long story. One I’ll tell later-”

Rasha and Kristof winced in pain and held their temples tight. Both started smashing their hands on their temples.

“What’s wrong?” Anton asked.

“It’s the drugs.” Marion sighed. “Withdrawal from the Purple Shade affects everyone differently, but it can result in headaches and fevers, death in some cases. There’s not much we can do until it passes. Doesn’t seem to do much to me but for them…”

“We saw a Canine Beast-kin that seemed to be suffering from that.” Anton stood up and approached Rasha as she winced in pain, her hands pounding on her temples. “Though she didn’t look like this. More shaking and shivering, like she was anxious to get more of the drug.”

“Lucia…” Kal trailed off.

Marion nearly started crying again and shook her head. “That poor girl. I was surprised to see her still with the Auction House. She’s been there for over twenty-five winters.”

“Shouldn’t she be a mess?” Cetina asked. She held a hand over a small blade hidden on her belt as Anton approached Rasha, her eyes glancing at the iron loop almost ripped free from the wood. “That drug’s meant to tear through a Beast-kin’s body faster than it would a human.”

“How do you know that?” Marion asked. “I don’t think Bebbezzar has a problem with it.”

Cetina hesitated to answer. “Um…I have been involved with trading and transporting Beast-kin near the border.” Marion’s eyes constricted to angry slits. “But that was a while ago.”

“Can you all please not talk so loud?” Kristof begged. “It’s like knives are being driven into my skull.”

Rasha nodded as another wave of pain crashed through her head. Anton stretched his hand out and held Rasha’s head, she looked up and tried to move away but didn’t have the mental strength.

“Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal Rasha and remove every toxin from her body.”

Anton lost a considerably large portion of mana with the chant, nowhere near as much as healing Cetina the first time. Rasha’s eyes widened in shock as her skin darkened ever so slightly and the tiny cuts and blemishes disappeared.

Rasha gasped and removed her hands from her head. She looked at him in fear. “What…What did you do?”

“I healed you.”

He moved to Kristof and performed the same chant. Kristof’s shaking stopped and his breathing calmed. Like Rasha, his skin regained its lustre and his horns regrow their pointed tips and the tiny flaking segments disappeared. Kristof looked at Anton and tears of regret fell down his face.

“Thank you.” He reached up and held Anton’s hands. “I can’t believe I was so foolish to try and kill our saviour.”

“Just Anton is your saviour?” Verona raised a brow and smiled at Cetina. Verona idly scratched her chin. “Though, once the Beast-kin find out what’s going to happen to them I think that you pretty much ask whatever you wanted from them.”

Anton smiled at Verona. It wasn’t the main reason why he was doing this but what she said was true, in a sense. Rescued Beast-kin would be very loyal to him and hopefully Atros, so long as they continued to free more Beast-kin and take good care of them. Which was his plan. Though he doubted they would do whatever Verona was hinting at.

“What magic is that?” Marion asked. “How are you able to channel the powers of the Old Gods…I thought that Tethra was supposed to be dead.”

“Not quite dead,” Kal replied. She took off her glove and exposed her Beast-kin hand. “I think that there are only two people that can use her power in the whole world.”

“Two?” Marion looked at Verona and Cetina, both of whom shook their heads.

Kal placed her hand over Marion’s. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal my mother. Heal every wound, ailment and illness she has.”

Marion gasped as the magic crashed over her. The greyed fur returned to its dark aqua colour, her eyes cleared and her long ears pricked up. Her fan tail, hidden for safety behind her, popped out as the orange marking grew in intensity and size. Marion looked to Kal with genuine fear in her eyes, a look that horrified Kal. It quickly softened as Marion smiled and Held Kal’s hands.

“My daughter…My daughter actually became a disciple of Tethra. Though I just wanted you alive.” Marion reached out and touched with the silver medallion dangling from Kal’s neck. “All this time I thought she was just something we told ourselves to make our lives easier. So we could actually have some hope.”

Marion shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m just so glad that you’re safe after all this time.”

She pulled Kal into a hug again and tears fell down their faces.

Rasha raised a blue hand. “Sorry for interrupting, but where are we going? I heard the others saying a new plantation…But I don’t think that’s want you want to do with us…”

“Where can we possibly go in Seocuria where we won’t be thought of as just slaves?” Kristof asked.

Anton smiled. “We’ve got a long way to go. And we aren’t going to be stopping in Seocuria or even Graterious.”

“Where then?” Kristof looked to his fellow Beast-kin. “Qaiviel? They hate us just as much as the Graterian’s. Maybe even more. Bebbezzar? I don’t think they particularly like us there either…”

Cetina shook her head. “Not really. The Church of the Holy Father really doesn’t like your kind, but that hasn’t stopped humans from hating and enslaving your kind before they existed. I don’t have a problem with Beast-kin, though a lot of my people do.”

“If the old stories were true the long gone United Kingdom had Beast-kin and Humans working together,” Marion added. “Such a strange place. Though that might not be true. Perhaps it was just lies…Just stories I’ve heard and that was all such a long time ago.”

“Well, you’re going somewhere else. And it’s not to the Clans either. Before you get worried.”

“I don’t want to see snow. Too cold for someone like me.” Kristof said, his words trailing off near the end.

“So where are we going?” Rasha asked again.

“Atros. I don’t think any of you have heard of it, but it’s all that remains of the old Kar Kingdom. A city to the south of Mount Aspire.”

That and another thousand odd people that Nithroel mentioned. Are they in that place that the journal mentioned? Balefire Mine? I don’t think we should make a detour on the way home, just in case.

“And it’s our home.” Anton continued despite their stunned silence, including Cetina. “A refuge where you can live alongside humans in peace.”

“I don’t know about that.” Marion looked to Kal. “It’s a nice idea, Anton, but I don’t know how well it’s going to work. I can only speak for myself but whenever I see a human my blood starts to boil and I get scared and angry. If I was free I’d have tried something like Kristof and Rasha did.”

“Even them?” Kal asked. “The people that I’m married to. What about me? I’m half-human. I look more like a human than a Beast-kin. Does that mean you feel half as angry when you look at me?”

Marion paused. “No. I know that you’re my lovely daughter. But when I see someone I don’t know, like them, I can’t help but feel...angry.”

Rasha and Kristof agreed though they seemed more than a little embarrassed about their feelings. Anton didn’t begrudge such thoughts. It was a natural response to the horrors unleashed upon them.

“But…” Marion took a deep breath and held Kal by the shoulders. “If this is where you want us to go, where you think we can be free, I will go with you.”

“Thank you.” Kal smiled. “Atros isn’t that big but it’s the place that I call home. And I hope that you all will be able to call it your home as well.”

“If Marion’s going then I will,” Kristof spoke defiantly and folded his muscular arms. “I won’t be accused of being a coward when our kind’s freedom is at stake.”

“Doesn’t sound like we’ve got much of a choice.” Rasha scratched her horn. “But it sounds like it might be worth a go. Either that or we head back to that hell-hole with those mind fucking drugs.”

Kal turned to Anton with a smile on her face. “You’re still sneaky. Very sneaky and manipulative.”

Anton smiled though Marion appeared to have the wrong impression. Marion didn’t know about the Qaiviel Bondsmen travelling through the Accursed Forest then telling them they were free to do whatever they wanted, stay and work or leave, in a monster and beast infested land. Perhaps it was the same here, though Anton didn’t see it that way.

“I’m glad you agree. But I need something from you three.”

“Oh?”

“You did buy us.” Rasha smiled wickedly. “That makes us your property.”

Rasha dramatically tossed her long red hair back and parted it around her horn. Cetina rolled her eyes while Verona laughed. Rasha joined in.

“But seriously, you did save us. What do you want?”

“We have yet to tell the other Beast-kin. Only another three Beast-kin even know you aren’t heading to work on a plantation or something. And I’m worried that there’s a chance they might try something.” Anton looked at the wood surrounding them. “We are on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and I have no idea what’s swimming with us. Apparently, slave ships have been lost before and I have no intention of joining them. I need you three to talk to them and convince them that we aren’t slavers.”

“That’s easy,” Rasha said. “Just remove their chains.”

“They won’t know why though.” Marion held a pained expression. “They might think that you’re about to do something terrible to them. Like, throw them into the ocean to watch them drown.”

“That happens?” Verona asked, her face aghast.

Marion winced as she nodded. “Sometimes. Though only to slaves that misbehave. They aren’t stupid enough to do that to good stock.” She focused on Anton. “But some eccentric new owner, with strange companions, might just have that desire.”

Anton nodded. “I didn’t think of it that way. But that’s why we need your help. To make sure they remain calm. Now, the crew isn’t a part of us. They still think you’re all slaves heading to a new plantation. So we can’t just have Beast-kin free to wander the ship. They’ll have to remain where they are and well behaved.”

“We can’t promise that but we can try,” Marion said. “Right?”

Kristof and Rasha nodded. “We’ll do our best.”

“I will tell the people there to be on their best behaviour.” Anton continued. “And I need every Beast-kin to do the same. Human’s tend not to like anything that’s different to them, and you can see why that’s a problem. Kal was a big enough problem in Atros, at the start at least. Anyway, it’s going to be a bit rough, for both you and us, but I know that it can be done and we can get back home.”

All three Beast-kin nodded.

“Well, we might as well get this started.” Anton clapped his hands. “I’d ask that you’re-”

“Anton?” Kal cut him off. “I…I have a lot more to talk about with my mother.”

“Okay. We’ll just take Rasha and Kristof. I’m sure that you two will be enough.”

“Thank you.” Kal smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you for granting my wish.”

Anton gently kissed Kal. Marion frowned but grabbed his hand, Cetina’s hand hovered over her blade, before holding it tight with both hands.

“Thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter.” Marion closed her eyes tight. “I always dreamed of her. But I’d never thought I’d hold her again. Not outside of the hereafter. Thank you.”

Anton smiled and patted Marion’s hand as she brought Kal in for another hug. Anton waved everyone else out while they wept in private.

---[]---

Anton gently closed the door and took a deep breath.

“I really can’t believe that we actually got her.” Anton chuckled. “I feared she would be dead. I know it’s rude to ask how old a woman is but Marion isn’t young.”

“It is rude,” Verona replied. Cetina and Rasha nodded.

“Marion is almost fifty winters old,” Kristof said flatly and calmly.

Rasha sighed and scratched her head. “You’re just going to say how old she is? Just like that?”

Kristof shrugged. “I don’t think she would care. She’s not worried about that sort of stuff.”

“She looks good for fifty.” Verona smiled. “I hope I look half as good when I’m that old.”

“But that means that she was in her teenage years when she gave birth to Kal…” Anton shook his head, dispelling the images floating up through his mind.

Rasha shrugged. “That’s nothing compared to what some of us have gone through. But she’s alive to tell her story. And now she has her daughter back.”

“True…Now we just need to convince them.”

Anton looked over the Beast-kin slaves. They shied away from his sight but they seemed quite intrigued why Rasha and Kristof were free and seemingly happily conversing with their captors. Anton saw the looks of resentment, some even accusatory, directed towards the two.

“What do you want us to tell them?” Kristof asked.

“That we aren’t real slavers and they’re going to be free, very soon, to live without being beaten or abused,” Anton replied. “I don’t know how you’re going to convince them of this…But they need to be quiet and well behaved. And remain chained up. It won’t work if the crew think something’s up. Oh, and don’t tell them the name of the place we’re heading.”

“I’ve never heard of it before.” Rasha shrugged. “And I don’t think anyone here would have either.”

“Perhaps not. But there’s a chance that one of the sailors might talk. If they’re drunk and trying to impress someone with stories they might just talk about a bunch of Beast-kin slaves that were talking about a mythical place where they could go to be free. And that would just create all sorts of problems.”

Rasha nodded. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

She took a deep breath and walked to the nearest Beast-kin slave. Her heavy hooves thudded deeply on the wooden floor. The slave, an older turtle, shied away when she knelt down. Very quickly it changed as Rasha began to speak to them.

“I’d better get started.” Kristof smiled at Anton. “Can’t have the women show us how it’s done.”

Anton stared blankly while Verona and Cetina squinted at him. Kristof realised what he said was more than inappropriate and scurried away. The Beast-kin that he approached looked even more worried than those Rasha was speaking with. Kristof did look like a barrel of muscle compared to the more ragged canines and felines he approached.

“Now what?” Verona asked. “Do you want to get some sleep or what?”

“I want to talk to Kal’s friends first,” Anton said. “See what they have to say and if they need any healing.”

Anton looked to some of the wounds present on the slaves. Some were far worse than simply missing an ear or an eye. “Kal and I are going to be quite busy. What about you Cetina? If you want to have a break you can.”

Cetina shook her head. “You were almost just killed. If it weren’t for Verona and myself you could very well be dead, or have killed Marion’s husband. I don’t think you should go alone.”

“Okay.” Anton could still feel Kristof’s fingers on his throat. He was unbelievably strong. Probably strong enough to rip a person in half if he tried. Seeing him whisper to the scared Beast-kin made Anton feel a little odd.

He walked silently through the close masses of Beast-kin. They parted and tried to avoid his gaze. Even the large ones, similar to Rasha in size, did everything they could to avoid scrutiny. So beaten and downtrodden, an utterly hopeless outlook on life.

The Drakeling nudged her two friends and nodded towards Anton. All three girls looked at him in apprehension. They had seen him with Kal but they probably didn’t have any idea what their relationship was.

“Where is Kal?” The Drakeling asked, her voice had a slight crackling echo. “She was with you before.”

“Irso.” A dark-skinned Beast-kin hissed at the Drakeling. She, very obviously a she, looked almost human. However, the lower half of her body was a spider, quite a large one at that. An Arachnid, he guessed.

“She’s fine,” Anton said as he knelt down. Cetina stood close behind while Verona sat on the ground and looked intently at the Cobra’s short and fat tail. “Right now she’s speaking with Marion. After twenty winters I think they deserve some time to each other.”

“So you actually saved her?” The Cobra asked, her vertically slit eyes blinked furiously.

Anton nodded. “We did. She’s in another room right now. We also managed to get a Blue Minotaur, Rasha, and a Dwarf Minotaur Kristof.”

“I never liked Rasha.” The Drakeling folded her hands, the iron links clanking as they dragged on the floor. “She was a nasty bitch to us when we were younger.”

“Irso…” The Arachnid hissed again. She smiled at Anton. “It was a long time ago. She got a lot better in the last few winters.”

“I don’t forget. No matter what, I don’t forget how I’ve been treated.” The Drakeling seemed quite stubborn.

“Who are you three?” The Cobra asked. “Irso and Ulyaa said that you were with Kal in the Slave House.”

“Why did you say it like that?” Verona asked. “You were there.”

The Cobra winced, a strange expression on her scaled face. “I could barely see before. Kal…She did something to me. I felt something wash over me and then I could see again.”

Anton chuckled. “She didn’t tell me that. Did she say anything when you were healed?”

The Cobra shook her head. As she looked at him her a forked tongue darted out of her mouth, a mix between a snake’s and a normal. Her face was blank as she cocked her head slightly.

Irso, the Drakeling, sighed, a very strange crackling emanating from her throat as she shook her head. “Eider. You need to control that. Especially if their faces are anything to go by. I don’t think they’ve ever seen a Cobra before. Or your tongues…”’

“When you do that do you taste the air?” Anton asked.

Eider nodded seriously. “Yes. I can’t see that well, even after…Kal did that thing to me. It’s what we all do. But who are you? You still haven’t answered.”

“Well, my name is Anton. The woman sitting next to me is Verona. And the woman standing behind is Cetina.”

Irso frowned as she looked at Verona. “You managed to get a Clansmen slave? And without a collar too.”

Verona’s eye twitched. “I’m not a slave. Or a Clansmen.”

“But your hair-”

“I’m not one of them,” Verona replied adamantly, folding her arms. “Nor am I a slave. I am a free woman.”

Ulyaa held Irso’s scaled arm tight. Irso’s eyes snapped to Ulyaa, her large razor tipped sharp teeth on full display before it softened. Anton remembered Drakeling’s didn’t like to be touched, though clearly it didn’t extend to friends.

“Sorry.” Ulyaa bowed her body from her waist. “Irso can be a little…direct at times. Please forgive her.”

Irso tried to make an apologetic face but failed. Anton waved her down and both relaxed.

“Where are we going?” Irso asked. “You don’t look like slavers.”

“To somewhere you can all be free. Where you don’t have to worry about being abused or discriminated. Where you will be treated as an equal, not an inferior being.”

“Are you serious?” Eider asked. “There’s actually somewhere like that for us?”

Anton nodded. “Kal has been living with us for some time. I know that Half-breeds, especially with humans, aren’t exactly popular with most Beast-kin.” The three looked more than a little ashamed. “But she has been living peacefully with us. And I know that all of you will be able to as well.”

“But why do this for us?” Ulyaa asked.

“Well, I don’t like what they were doing to you guys.” All three looked oddly at one another. “And I promised Kal I would.”

“And…” Verona slyly smiled at him.

“And because she’s my wife.”

They were stunned, utterly stunned, by his words. Anton took off his glove and showed the wedding ring. Eider and Ulyaa moved to touch it, Irso seemed content to just look, but they were impressed. They had yet to see Kal’s but they took it as evidence all the same.

“So...” Eider idly scratched at the edge of her hood. “Does that mean you have-”

“We sleep together, yes.” Anton’s elbow was bumped by Verona. “And…Verona is my wife as well. Together. At the same time.”

Irso chuckled, a frightening display of teeth hidden behind her smile, while Eider and Ulyaa flushed lightly. At least he was sure Eider was. The scales didn’t really change much in colour but the inside of her hood turned redder.

“Didn’t think Kal would be into that sort of stuff.” Irso chuckled.

“She wouldn’t have made the first move if I didn’t give her a little push.” Verona smiled. “But I know that she’s the happiest she’s ever been now.”

“So you’re both okay with that…” Irso shook her head. “Doesn’t really matter though, you both seem happy enough. If you are actually freeing us that is.”

“Where are we going?” Eider asked.

“I can’t tell you that just yet.” Anton pointed to the decks above. “The crew of the ship aren’t with us. They’ve just been hired to do this job. So I can’t tell you, just in case they hear and word gets back to Seocuria. None of you want to go back, I’m sure.”

Any sense of frivolity vanished immediately and they nodded seriously.

“Thank you. We’ll talk more during our trip. It’ll be a while before we arrive at the next stage of our journey but I wanted to see if any of you were injured.”

“I think we’re alright,” Eider replied. “Some of the others aren’t looking so good. A few of them are almost blind like I was. Though it’d probably be better to get Kal so she can do…whatever it is she did.”

Anton smiled and rose to one knee. He reached out and touched Eider’s scaled knee, the scales were cold and extremely smooth, Irso almost growled at him.

“Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal her. Heal every wound and undo every scar, restore her to her prime.”

Eider gasped and skittered away from Anton. Her hands reached for her teeth as Irso lunged at Anton. Thankfully the chains were just too short, Irso’s claws just missed his skin by a hair. She relented when she felt Cetina’s blade pressed against her throat. Irso shot Cetina a dirty look but Ulyaa pulled both her hands down and onto the floor, using every ounce of her strength to keep the Drakeling from attacking again. Ulyaa wasn’t a thin girl but her arms twitched and shook to keep Irso still. Verona pulled him back and glared at Irso with eyes that would make a wolf crawl away. Irso slowly relented, Cetina withdrew her blade and Ulyaa released her grip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ulyaa asked.

“What did he just do?” Irso’s voice was almost a growl, her eyes filled with unimaginable hatred.

“Ow…” Eider rubbed her upper jaw as she opened her mouth. He tongue licked around her thin needle-like teeth, really fangs, focusing on two large fangs at the front. Her eyes widened in shock. “My teeth are back. Well, my fangs. I have fangs!”

Ulyaa and Irso looked very surprised, while Anton, Verona and Cetina looked confused between one another.

Eider massaged her cheeks above her two front fangs, a few tears trailing down her scaled face. “I can’t believe it. They’re back. You have no idea how important these are to us.”

“They’re just pointy teeth,” Verona said quietly. “There’s obviously something more…”

“The Seocurian’s rip them out when we’re young. So we don’t bite and kill them. And now I have them back. Thank you, Anton. I’ll never forget this.”

Eider bowed low. Her head hit the floor but she didn’t care. When she came back up she was smiling, letting out an awkward chuckle. It looked a little strange but he could tell that she was utterly ecstatic.

“I might be the first adult Cobra to have fangs.”

Eider’s head started to bob about, her eyes closed, as her tongue wrapped and flickered around her fangs. Her short tail began to swirl through the air, like Kal’s when she was happy.

Verona pulled herself closer to Anton’s ear. “If you keep this up you’ll have every Beast-kin here swearing an oath to you. That’ll be fun.”

Anton kissed her forehead. “One Beast-kin giving me an oath of allegiance made you freak out. What would five hundred oaths do?”

Verona chuckled and held his arm. Extremely tightly.

Eider ceased her fantasising when Irso glared at her and Ulyaa gently pushed her. She coughed and her short tail stopped undulating. “What Kal did felt the same. Who…Who is Tethra?”

Guess the knowledge is becoming lost over the generations. When you’re being beaten every day it might be hard to keep faith in something that doesn’t help.

Anton quickly explained who Tethra was and what her powers could do. They were very surprised to hear that only he and Kal were probably the only people in the world that could use her power.

“I don’t understand why.” Ulyaa began. “If it can do that, why wouldn’t someone else worship her and use her power?”

“That’s a fantastic question. It uses a lot of mana for one. But why she ended up in such a state that only two people can use her power, I don’t really know for sure. Apparently, her followers were dying out but someone from the Clans said her power just stopped working one day and they had no choice but to leave her for someone that worked. I’ll have to look into it further when we can.”

“Tethra…Thank you for healing me.”

“Was it just the fangs?” Verona asked. “Usually it does other things…”

Verona looked to Eider’s chest, a smile quickly formed on her face. Eider didn’t have a bust. At all. Her clothes were relatively tight against her body yet there were no curves underneath. She had a very impressive set of legs but those hadn’t changed.

“Like what?” Eider cocked her head then looked down at her chest.

“Nothing important.” Verona smiled and looked away. Cetina chuckled and shook her head, attracting their gaze but didn’t answer.

“Eider?” Anton began. “Kal told me something about the Cobras. And now’s as good as a time as any.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, Kal said that Cobras are a relatively new species of Beast-kin.”

Instantly Eider’s expression dropped. Her hood contracted and her eyes were cast down. “Yes…Yes, we are. I think I’m a fourth generation Cobra.”

Eider looked at her left arm. She frowned and pulled her arm around further. Her frown turned to elation as her legs began to bounce in happiness. “My numbers are gone! Are you serious?! How did you do that?”

“I healed you. Every part of you and every wound. So scars caused by branding…”

Eider started to weep and held his hands. “Thank you. Thank you! You have no idea how thankful I am. I’ve had to look at the thing every day of my life. Always reminded that I was a slave, just a number to the Seocurians. I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

“Give us a few days and we’ll have everyone’s numbers removed.” Anton smiled. “I’m sure they’ll listen to me then.”

Anton saw numbers branded on Ulyaa’s left arm but nothing on Irso’s. Irso smiled and leant back. “They’d be stupid to touch a Drakeling. If they didn’t want their throat ripped out.”

“You didn’t seem all that worried when Cetina had a blade at your throat,” Verona said quietly.

Irso scratched her cheek. “That was different. For all my anger I know I was in the wrong.” She looked at Cetina. “But don’t do it again.”

“Don’t threaten my friends,” Cetina spoke coldly and without emotion. Her eye held the same look as when she fought, cold and utterly devoid of emotion. Irso saw something in her eyes and nodded.

“Kal told me that Cobras were bred from Lamia’s. Because they were too dangerous and cost too much food for what they were worth.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” Eider shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s true though. But there’s nothing that I can do about it.”

“This is going to sound terrible but why not just get rid of them entirely. If they were such a problem.”

“We’re very tough. Our skin, or as they keep calling it our hide, is very strong. So they use us in places where most slaves would get scratched or torn apart. Like harvesting the fruit from Barnacle Blade Bushes.”

“Oh, I hate those,” Irso said. Ulyaa nodded and scratched at her arms.

Anton looked to Cetina. She might know more. “I’ve had a few fruits from that plant. They’re pretty good. Never thought how they got them. It makes sense when I think about it.”

“Well, the bushes hurt. A lot. And the bush can grow pretty much anywhere without any real water, so there are quite a few large plantations of the things. That and we are just pretty tough overall.”

“I bet that they forget that and overwork you.” Verona pointed to her eyes.

Eider slowly nodded. “They did, for me at least. I was working with something that smelled awful and burned my eyes. After a few days, I could barely see. I was basically blind. I had to get Irso and Ulyaa to help meet demands. Otherwise, the masters would have killed me. They probably had their eye on me.”

Anton smiled at Ulyaa and Irso. While Ulyaa took it, as a matter of fact, Irso huffed and looked away. He didn’t understand why she got so embarrassed over helping a friend. Maybe she was one of those sorts of people.

“Ulyaa.” The Arachnid perked up. “What about you?”

“Well, my name is Ulyaa and I am an Arachnid Beast-kin. And yes, my lower half is a spider.”

“Doesn’t that make you a bit of a target?” Anton asked. “Looking like a human? Also, do you wear clothes over your spider body or are you technically naked right now?”

Ulyaa recoiled her head slightly and patted her spider body.

“I didn’t think a slave would have time to get into…” Verona looked at Anton as she tried to recall the word. “Exhibitionism. That’s it.”

“No. It doesn’t work like that.” Ulyaa raised her body up. The chains had been attached to her hind legs but she seemed a little weak. She had a rough skirt around where her human and spider body joined in addition to a long shirt. Other than that she was naked.

“Let’s not worry too much about the particulars of your anatomy.” Anton calmed Verona down just as she was about to say something. “But…I am wondering. Can you produce silk?”

Ulyaa shook her head as she sat down. “Not for some time. A few winters ago I got really sick, nearly died, and I couldn’t make anymore, no matter how hard I tried or what they did to me. I’m still a good climber, so I can get to the tops of the trees without a ladder, and a hard worker so they let me…stay. Though they did keep checking to see if I could make silk again. That…”

“I wonder if it’s the same for you like it is a spider.” Anton mused. “Does it come out of your spinneret?”

Ulyaa blushed. “Yes, it does. But please don’t talk about it like that.”

“And where is that?” Verona asked. She stood up and looked at Ulyaa’s body. “Is it at the back?”

“Yes…”

“How strong is it?” Anton asked. Ulyaa’s eyes widened at him. “The silk that you make. I know that the web that spiders make is very strong. Is it the same for you?”

“Um…I think so.” Ulyaa calmed a little. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, the clothes you guys have isn’t that great.” Ulyaa pulled at her rough shirt. Anton saw that there was considerable cleavage hidden beneath. Thankfully Verona hadn’t seen him looking, rather she saw it too. “And at our destination, we really don’t have enough wools or furs for everyone. And I have no idea how clothes are made here.”

I’m imagining some sort of loom. However that works….

Ulyaa guessed where he was going. She threw up her hands to stop him. “I would help you if I could. But…Do you really want to wear something that came out of there?”

Verona laughed. “Right now I’m wearing the skin of a dead wyrm and the fur of a wolf on the inside. Anton’s wearing hardened leather as well and some of Cetina’s armour has a few pieces of leather. I don’t think it really matters where it came from. So long as it’s good.”

“Exactly,” Anton said. “It really doesn’t matter to us. But only if you are willing. We’re not going to force you to do anything like that if you don’t want to. That’s my promise to you. To all of you.”

Ulyaa relaxed a little and looked at her hands. When she looked up the happiness faded as Verona smiled wickedly again.

“So long as you wash it before we wear it.”

“What?”

“It sounds like it comes out of your butt…So…”

“It’s from there. It’s a different place! Just near it!” Ulyaa stomped her front legs on the hard floor. She flushed when nearly every nearby Beast-kin looked towards her. She winced and held her head in her hands.

“Verona…” Anton looked at her.

Verona chuckled and held her shoulder. “Sorry. I just got a bit carried away there.”

“It’s not every day you have a Clanswoman, sorry, someone ask about something like that.”

“But could you make clothes?” Anton asked as Verona returned to his side.

Ulyaa shook her head. “No. I could make a thread, great bundles of it if I had enough food and time, but that’s it. I don’t know how to make clothes.”

“I’m sure someone knows how to weave,” Anton said. “Is it a sticky thread?”

“Only if I want it to be sticky,” Ulyaa replied. “At least that’s how I remember it being…It’s been a long time.”

Irso chuckled and shook her head. “You’re talking to a human about your sticky thread. And a man married to one of your friends. Do you have any shame?”

Ulyaa flushed and slapped Irso’s arm. Irso just laughed and leant back further onto the wall. She appeared to be warming up to them. Slowly. Very slowly.

Anton stepped forward, Irso kept a very close eye on him, and chanted the same healing prayer for Irso. She jumped in shock, just like Eider, but smiled almost immediately after. Her hands traced over her body before reaching for her spider body. She laughed as her hands ran through the short fur.

“Some of my claws are back.” She smiled. “On my legs. I lost them when I fell from a tree and tried to hold on. And…Hang on.”

Ulyaa leant further around her body and reached to the rear of her spider body. It wiggled ever so slightly and she let out a gasp. She returned a moment later with a bundle of what looked like white string in her hands.

“I…I can’t believe it. It’s just like I remembered it.”

Anton leant forward and Ulyaa hesitantly handed it over. The small bundle was almost dry, bounced when he touched it and was very warm.

“This is…quite surreal. It looks pretty strong.” Anton said as he pulled a single thread loose and pulled hard. It didn’t break no matter how hard he tried, though it was with one hand.

Verona poked it and he felt Cetina’s armoured legs touch his back as she leant over to look.

“Why is it so warm?” Verona asked.

Ulyaa looked a little embarrassed.

“That’s because it’s been in her body.” Anton quietly said. “Until just a few seconds ago. So it’s going to be warm.”

“Right…” Verona took the bundle from Anton’s hands. “We’ve been thinking of ways to get more money so we can keep buying Beast-kin slaves. Is this worth anything?”

“I…I don’t know.” Ulyaa looked to her friends but they only shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve never really thought about it. I think most of it’s used to make our clothes.” Ulyaa pulled her shirt, revealing the deep brown cleavage hidden beneath. “These need to be tough…We don’t exactly get replacements that often.”

“Someone we sold this to would probably wonder why someone like us would be selling raw Arachnid silk.” Anton mussed. “But…If we could make this into clothes or maybe even armour we could sell them. Maybe to Qaiviel, where they won’t know what they’re looking at.”

“I don’t know about that.” Ulyaa smiled as Anton gingerly handed back the small bundle of silk. “But if it can help free other Beast-kin then I’ll do it. I think I can make quite a lot, though it’ll just be like that. Will that actually help you?”

“That’s going to be a great help,” Anton said. Ulyaa smiled warmly, to which Verona pinched his waist hard. “Everything that you can do will help us, no matter how small you think it might be. We’ll need to do a few tests on it but this stuff might be a major export of ours.”

“How many more Arachnids do we have?” Cetina asked. The three looked at her, Irso frowned very deeply. “I don’t mean it like that…Just after handling Beast-kin for a while it can be hard to not speak like they do.”

“I think I’m the only one here.” Ulyaa sighed and slouched slightly. “The only one of my kind here…”

“You aren’t alone.” Anton began. “You’ve got your friends that will always be there for you. I know that Irso looks out for you both.” Again Irso looked away in embarrassment. “And not to mention Kal, myself, Verona, Cetina, Marion, Rasha and Kristof. All of us will be here to help you and everyone else here. You aren’t alone.”

Ulyaa perked up and smiled. Anton knew what he said was a little bit dramatic and flowery with his words but it seemed to work. Whatever he needed to say to raise their spirits he would. And he meant every word.

“Thanks. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” Ulyaa bowed deep towards Anton. Verona smirked and nudged his arm. She said nothing as Ulyaa straightened up. “Um…Anton.”

Anton nodded and turned to Irso. She scoffed and began speaking before he could.

“Irso. Drakeling. If you touch me I’ll rip your throat out.”

“Irso!” Eider and Ulyaa snapped.

Irso huffed and held out her hand. “Just heal me.”

Anton didn’t move and Irso frowned at him. “Please?”

“Not with that attitude,” Anton folded his arms. “So we’ll start with the basics. What did you do when you were a slave and what makes you different to a Cobra?”

Irso retracted her hand. “Okay…I’m sorry. My blood can make me angry and aggressive at times, even when I know I shouldn’t. I’m sorry. I used to work in a forge, hauling near molten iron and gold.”

“Not with your bare hands?” Verona looked at Irso’s scaled hands. They weren’t damaged in any way.

“They gave us leather gloves.” Irso looked away. “But only Drakeling’s and other Beast-kin like us can handle it. They don’t give much for protection and the gloves are very thin.”

“So…Drakeling’s are resistant to fire and heat?”

Irso nodded. “We are. We don’t really feel it, except when I’m right over the fire, and I haven’t seen anything wrong with my scales. So most of the people that work in the forges are Drakelings. And the Seocurian masters leave us alone because we’re good at our job.”

“We’ll need a lot of help with the forges soon,” Anton said. “Do you know anything about smithing?”

Irso shrugged. “A bit. Mainly from what I’ve seen. Usually, I’m the one that holds the metal while other’s work it into shape.”

“That’s fine. Since you’re are a Drakeling, does that mean you can breathe flame?”

Irso’s scaled ears snapped back and she looked quite embarrassed. “No. No. Maybe several generations ago we could but I can’t…”

“Right. Well, I’ll heal you now but if you feel like you can breathe fire I ask that you don’t. I can’t put it out and we don’t want to be sinking in the middle of the ocean. Not after all this.”

Irso nodded and held out her hand. Anton gingerly touched her scaled hand. Unlike Eider’s it was quite warm and he chanted a healing prayer. It used considerably more mana than the other two, like healing Cetina. The scratches and peeling flakes on her scales disappeared, the large white faint scar running along her face faded away while she started to breathe more easily. She flexed her hands and smiled at Anton.

“Nothing aches anymore. And my scales don’t itch.” She bowed her head, Eider and Ulyaa looked pretty surprised. “Thank you. I’m sorry I tried to attack you.”

Anton smiled. “It’s not a problem. It’s not the first time I’ve been assaulted by a Beast-kin.”

“Who?” Eider asked.

“Let’s see. Kal, Kristof, Irso and almost Rasha.”

“Kal assaulted you?”

“One. She punched me in the stomach really hard. Hard enough that I lost my breath.”

All three looked a little surprised. Anton slapped his thighs and stood up. “I’m going to set you three free. But I can’t let the rest of the Beast-kin free just to wander about the ship. Not only will it freak out the human crew, who aren’t like us by the way, but some are you are really big. Like Rasha and Kristof. I need you to keep as still as possible to save on food as we’re pretty tight on space. We’re going to fish for extra supplies but we still need to stretch it as much as we can.”

“What do you want us to say?” Ulyaa asked.

“That they’re going to be free and to remain calm and quiet. That’s the most I can say for now.”

“We’ll do our best,” Eider said.

Anton took the small key and unlocked their shackles. They rubbed their wrists, and Ulyaa rubbed her spider legs, and slowly stood up.

“When we saw that masked woman kneeling in front of us I didn’t think it would end like this.” Irso smiled at him. “How many more Beast-kin do you intend to free?”

“All of them. If I could every Beast-kin would be free.”

Irso looked into his eyes and nodded. She moved past, her orange tufted tail trailing behind her, and knelt down next to the closest Beast-kin. Eider and Ulyaa moved past, though Ulyaa required them to move to the side to let her spider body through, and they started speaking to other Beast-kin. Those Beast-kin slaves looked terrified but slowly their expressions changed. Anton looked to Rasha and Kristof. They had clearly spoken to several Beast-kin. Those they had looked far more calm and almost happy and excited. Anton hoped they would calm themselves before any of the crew saw them. Happy slaves would attract a lot of attention.

Anton waved Verona and Cetina through the masses of seated slaves, received a nod from Rasha and Kristof, and stopped at the door. He didn’t open it but leant his ear against the door. He could hear two people talking within, Kal and Marion, but not what they were saying. They deserved some privacy.

“While they do that I think we’ve earned a break.” Anton wrapped an arm around Verona’s waist. He looked at Cetina. “There’s not much going to be happening for the next little while. If you want to have a rest it’s probably a good idea.”

“Alright.” Cetina rotated her shoulders. “I think that’ll be a good idea. After what I’ve seen today I might need a good sleep to push it all away. Maybe even a drink, if I had one.”

Cetina weakly smiled and waved down their concerns. “I’m joking. But I think a sleep is a good idea.”

Cetina turned and started walking back to their rooms. Verona tugged on his hand and led him after her. She strode with a spring in her step as they reached their room. Cetina gave a small wave and entered hers, a tiny click of wood told them she had locked it. Perhaps she was worried about potential free-roaming Beast-kin. Or unscrupulous sailors visiting during the night. It hadn’t happened so far but there was no harm in taking extra precautions.

Verona hummed her song as she opened the door. A small white blob ran at her legs, squeaking as it nuzzled at Verona’s. Luna pawed at Verona with her front legs, continuously glancing between the two. Verona leant down and picked Luna up.

“Have you been a good girl?” She asked, holding her just underneath her armpits. “You haven’t done anything have you?”

Verona looked to the side of the bed to find a small deposit of poo. Thankfully it was dry and very small but the faint smell was starting to permeate the room.

Verona smiled at her. “Aw. Don’t worry. We all have to do that. And it’s a little embarrassing to do it on this ship. Not much in the way of privacy. Which is especially bad for Kal.” She turned with Luna still in her hands. “Can you take her for a bit while I deal with that?”

“I can get rid of it-”

Verona thrust Luna into his arms. “No. I’ll deal with it. Besides, it’s good practice for the real thing. Remember what you said before we left Atros. About our future together…”

Anton held Luna more like a baby rather than a dangerous weapon. Luna cooed and nuzzled her head into the crook of his arm, her rear bird’s feet digging into his armour for support. Thankfully she wasn’t that strong yet.

“See. You know what you’re doing.” Verona tickled the red fur on Luna’s cheek. She nuzzled deeper. “By the way, that’s my spot. So enjoy it while it lasts.”

“We need to get something better for her.” Anton looked around. “Like somewhere she can properly go without her worrying she’s dirtying the room.”

“I’ll have a chat with some of the sailors, see what they have to say.” Verona picked up the few droppings with her gloves. “I’ll be sure to wash these before I get back.”

Anton opened the door but Verona didn’t leave straight away. She pulled him down with her free hand. “This’ll be the first time it’ll just be the two of us. So don’t think about going to sleep just yet.”

She kissed him deeply, with a burning passion, so much so that Luna squeaked in annoyance. A tiny strand of saliva connected them when they parted. Verona brushed it away but left her lips wet.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

With that, she left him alone. Anton, feeling more than a little flustered, decided to lie on the bed. He gently put Luna down next to him. She tromped on the rough bed before lying down, resting her head on his arm. She looked up at him with big doey eyes. He couldn’t resist that look and scratched her head and underneath her small wings. Her rear legs started to twitch rapidly, like a dog, and her squeaks became very loud and frantic. When he stopped she looked disappointedly at him.

“I wonder what everyone else is going to think when we bring you back.” Anton scratched Luna’s chin. “You’re probably going to be like Ulyaa for some time. The only one of your species.”

Luna squeaked and nuzzled at his hands. She wasn’t content until he was patting her. A memory tried to force its way out, one consisting only painful scratches, which he forced back down. Luna nipped at his hand, Anton realised he had been holding his chest with his other hand.

“Sorry, Luna.” He scratched her head again. “That happens from time to time. I don’t want to really find out what they are. Something tells me I’m not going to like it.”

Luna picked herself up and clambered onto his chest. She gingerly walked along his chest and rested her head on his. Her body glowed slightly, the red cheek markings glowed bright, and she spread her small wings. The lingering fear washed away from his mind. He felt calm and relaxed, like he hadn’t felt for some time. Luna staggered and collapsed onto his chest. For a moment she was still before she started breathing softly.

She…She just healed me! Well, in mind rather than in body. She might still have a connection to Nithroel though. I don’t feel any different but I’d better be safe than sorry.

Anton chanted a prayer on himself to revert any changes, nothing appeared to change, and he searched through his body. Again he found nothing. Anton smiled at Luna as she slept on his chest.

“You saw that I was in trouble and you wanted to help…You’re a very smart and caring girl. Aren’t you?”

He scratched her head, she appeared to appreciate it, and he rested his head against the back of the bed. Verona opened the door a few minutes later. She had a large pillow in her hands.

“Hey. Aw, that’s cute. She’s all tired out.”

“Yeah…”

Verona frowned as she sat next to him. “I know that look on your face. What happened?”

“I just had another of those funny memories try to come back up.” Verona lay beside him. “Luna saw that I was under a bit of stress and…Well, I think she cast some sort of magic on me.”

“What?”

“She glowed and then I felt calm. It took just about everything out of her but I’m sure she did something.”

“That’s new.” Verona scratched Luna’s sleeping head. “Who knew that animals could use magic as well?”

“Not me. She’s a very smart girl.”

Verona picked Luna up, this time more like a baby, and placed her gently on the pillow in the corner of the room. She took a small piece of cloth and draped it over Luna’s body. Luna slowly curled more into a ball.

“Now…” Verona jumped onto the bed and straddled his waist. “We’ve probably got a while before Kal’s done. You’ve given her the best gift she could possibly ask for so, as your wife, I want something too. Seems only fair that I get a present when she does. And it’s been quite a while since I’ve had you to myself. Not that that’s a problem.”

Verona started to undo her belt.

“Hang on.” Anton held her warm and soft hands. “This seems…Wait a second. Isn’t today…”

Verona nodded. “Yep. But you said that after we save the Beast-kin we’d talk about having children. And even if you got me pregnant right now, at the end of summer, I wouldn’t be giving birth until sometime in spring. So it’ll be all of us snuggling up in our warm house during winter. A lovely little fire roaring away…”

“That does sound nice.” Verona took his hand and rubbed her taut stomach. “Seeing you waddle about with a swollen belly would be nice.”

Verona laughed. “You’ll have at least two bellies to take care of.” She lent down and kissed him. “I’m sure Marion will want to see her grand-kids soon. She’s waited long enough.”

Verona didn’t wait for his response and kissed him hard, unbuckling their armour in one swift motion.

Chapter 103. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Thessos

Chapter 103:

Ivano’s feet landed with a heavy thud on the walls of Thessos. A Bebbezarian soldier charged towards him, his short sword raised over his head in a frenzied attempt to strike him down. Ivano charged towards him and smashed his shield into his. The man’s eyes widened in shock as the much larger, and what he must have presumed slower, Clansmen collided with him. Ivano’s boots dug into the stone ground while the man careened backwards, his armour skidding on the bloodied stone. Ivano darted forward and swung his axe into the man’s chest. The axe head broke through the metal plate carved through to the fragile flesh and bone underneath. His mouth frothed with blood and then he was still.

Ivano wrenched his axe free and wiped the blood off on his bright yellow and blue clothes. Why the Bebbezarians wore such bright colours, even at dusk and defending a fortress city, he had no idea. The sounds of battle continued around him. Once this wall had dozens of archers defending but they lay dead, many killed by Clansmen arrows but more killed by axe blows.

The trip from his cold homeland to the warm lowlands had been long and arduous, not helped by the thoughts and people that clouded his mind. His Chief, Arnkel, had custody of his wife and children and had not too subtly threatened him to perform a task. Capture the lord of Thessos, Gavriel de Yascar, and bring him, or just his head, back to the chief of the Fire Blades, Mord, and challenge him to a blood Duel and claim the clan for himself and by extension Arnkel. Easy, or so Arnkel implied. Especially when he wasn’t the one doing it. Ivano grumbled mentally as he looked at the dead bodies slumped against the wall.

The small ladder behind him rattled and Arvid joined him. Despite only having one hand he moved up the rickety ladder with a frightening speed. While the main siege ladders were far better constructed these smaller and more portable ladders were needed for the inner walls.

“You know, when you took us from Rangarvellir I thought you were making this whole part up.” Arvid gently swung his large axe with his one remaining hand. “My brother and I thought you would use this and a chance to try and escape.”

“I didn’t.” Another voice came up the rickety ladder. Arlid poked his head over the wall and laughed when she saw the dead Bebbezarian soldiers. “That’s just my brother. I always thought you were genuine.”

“Shut up.” Arvid helped his brother up onto the wall. “Like you can talk.”

Ivano shook his head and suppressed a smile. During their time together he had got used to the both of them bickering and teasing each other. It took the edge off his worries, that this was more like an adventure than a dangerous mission he was taking against his will.

“How long before those bodyguards of yours figure out where we are?” Arvid asked.

“It’ll be a while.” Ivano pointed towards the centre of Thessos.

The lower sections of the city burned, the screams of the young and innocent mixed with the roar of the flames and the shouts of those fighting on both side. Thessos was much larger than he remembered. Before, when he had been captured by a Bebbezarian Merchant Prince, Thessos was a large fortress but nothing like this. This was easily three times as large and very heavily fortified, something that the men leading the assault had not taken into consideration.

Mord sent his son, Dyri, to lead the assault. Dyri was the spitting image of his father; a large strong man, like nearly every Clansmen, with a thick red beard and red eyes. He was a strong and brave warrior. However, Ivano’s concerns about the leadership quality of the Clansmen, and their selection methods proved to be correct this time as well. Dyri had enough men to take Thessos, if he fought with any intelligence. Instead, he had launched everyone into an all-out assault before they were sufficiently prepared or made enough siege weapons. They had enough ladders to get onto the walls and into the city but the casualties were far higher than they should have been. Crossbows and archers tore through the exposed sections on their insufficiently numbered ladders, which would have been fixed if they had waited just another day. And once they were on the walls Bebbezarians were able to box them in with crossbows and bows firing at point-blank range. Only the raw strength of the Clansmen had pushed the defenders back and allowed them to spill into the city. But far too many had died just to take the wall, and the defenders were well prepared for an assault. Ivano remained near the back of the army and once inside the city had given his guards the slip when a band of Bebbezarians ambushed them. He didn’t care for the gold or spoils from this battle. He needed to find Gavriel de Yascar and, thanks to one terrified guard had blabbed before fainting, he knew he was hiding in a small keep to the side of the main castle.

“So what now?” Arlid asked.

“We need to find a person here and then get out.”

“Alive?”

Ivano paused. “Yes. If we can manage it.”

“I don’t know.” Arvid poked a corpse with the head of his axe. “Looks like they’ve already been through here. Our Berserkers really do cleave through them, huh?”

Ivano nodded to a large wood and stone building in the middle of the stone wall. “That building’s not on fire and I know I saw some candles in there before. That’s where he’ll be hiding.”

“And why wouldn’t he have just run away?”

“Well, that’s one good about Dyri’s reckless assault. No one really knew that we were coming.” Ivano turned away. “Though they wouldn’t have for another day, enough so we could properly prepare the siege.”

The ladder rattled again and Erik emerged over the top. He was covered in blood, thankfully not his own, and his axe was tipped with a fresh coat.

“Looks like you had some fun.” Arlid teased.

Erik shrugged. “After you two went up two Bebbezarians tried to attack me.”

“And you won?”

Erik shot Arlid a look, one full of annoyance at his joke. When he looked at Ivano his expression changed to smouldering hatred. His father, who’s name Ivano didn’t know and considered too rude to ask now, had died during an ambush while escorting him to Brenningr. Then had been eaten by a marauding group of Stone Men. A simple metal chain around Erik’s neck was all that remained of him, one that he wore at all times. Ivano knew that he still blamed Ivano for leaving his father’s corpse to be devoured by the Stone Men, but at least he has the chance to be angry. Hopefully, he would eventually understand.

Regardless of his feelings about Ivano he still followed his orders. Ivano always kept an eye on him and positioned him just outside of striking distance. Just in case. One could never be too careful.

“Enough,” Ivano grumbled. “We need to keep moving and get out before reinforcements arrive.”

Arvid and Arlid looked at one another. “What reinforcements?”

Ivano pointed to the top of the main castle. A massive bonfire raged on the top, bright pink in colour. Anyone within a hundred miles could see it. The moment they assaulted the flame erupted, and that was some time ago.

“By morning this place will be swarming with Bebbezarians. And I don’t want to get captured again.”

“You were captured?” Arvid asked.

Ivano nodded and turned to walk along the wall. He didn’t need to hear the screams of his fellow clansmen nor the laughter of his captors. They had enjoyed torturing them, though, considering what the clansmen did to them on a regular basis that wasn’t surprising.

Ivano walked to the guard house before a sword darted towards him. It wasn’t a good or strong strike so he simply dodged the blade. A Bebbezarian guard stumbled out, quickly dispatched with a swift cut upwards with his axe. Another two guards dove out to attack him. These were relatively young, probably stationed somewhere that was supposedly safe. Ivano bashed one with his shield and hit the other with the blunt edge of his axe. Both fell down to the ground silent, their swords and shields scattering. Arlid and Arvid entered the little guard house and looked at the unconscious guards. Ivano shook his head and moved forward, both men shrugged before stripping them of their weapons and moving them to one side. Just past the door lay four Clansmen, blood seeping from their wounds. At least they knew why some defenders were still alive.

On the other side of the guard house lay a large set of stone steps down to the courtyard in front of the small keep. No soldiers stood outside the keep but the door was strangely open. A dark void lay inside, one that, for some reason, disturbed Ivano.

“Did that guard of yours tell you which floor he’s supposed to be on?” Arvid asked.

“No. But if we find someone we’ll soon know.” Ivano glanced at the two, and Erik who trudged down the stone stairs. “If you find any women or anyone that doesn’t fight back, don’t touch them. Understood?”

The twins nodded. “Never liked that stuff.” Arvid smiled. “If that’s the best way you can bed a woman then you’re really pathetic.”

Ivano smiled. His own wife had almost done that to him when he announced his desire to marry her. That was quite the night. It had been too long since he had felt her warmth and her touch.

Before they took another step the sound of splintering wood came from their right. A wooden door splintered as axe heads burst through. Within a few moments the door tore apart, large armoured clansmen tearing a large hole before wrenching the lock open. The door opened and ten heavily clansmen poured out. Ivano recognised one at the front.

“I wondered where you went.” Dyri sniggered. “My father told me to keep an eye on you. He told me that only Arnkel’s word got you into this raid.”

Ivano stared blankly at Dyri, slowly blinking his eyes. It seemed that Dyri wasn’t the smartest person. His brow furrowed before he shook his head.

“Whatever. What are you doing here anyway?”

“What are you doing here?”

Dyri furrowed his brows once again. “Some of the guards we captured said there’s something really valuable in here. I’m thinking a lot of gold. We’ve already got enough slaves back home but we could always do with so more. And Seocuria’s always willing to oblige. And they said the noble women are kept here.”

Ivano grumbled. Taking slaves is a good way to make your surviving victims hate you. Especially when you could buy slaves legally. The wolf Beast-kin flashed through his mind, the look of despair but also the fire of resistance that burned underneath his eyes. He pushed it aside to focus on the present.

“We haven’t seen anyone here,” Ivano replied. “You’d be better off looking somewhere else.”

“That would be you. A disgraced man like yourself, skulking around trying to get rich.”

Ivano sighed. After they had left Brennigir Dyri had made a constant effort to continue to point out Ivano’s position and situation, to tease and belittle him, though Ivano was certain it had everything to do with his father’s opinion of him. Dyri got many things wrong about the failed invasion that Ivano had to correct. After the fourth correction, Dyri relented, though he found other ways to try and torment him.

“I’m not in command here.” Ivano shrugged dismissively. “Everyone that falls is on your head, this time.”

Dyri paused before grunting. “Whatever. This city will burn soon enough, then the rest of the Kingdom will be ours.”

This is just one fortress city. They’ll have hundreds upon thousands of soldiers coming here right now, not to mention the civilians that can still fight. Do you really think that you could actually take on the whole kingdom after capturing this one fortress?

“So, are you going to go in first?” Dyri asked.

Ivano stepped back and waved Dyri forward. Something about the open door and darkness troubled him. The Clansmen that had assaulted the walls hadn’t got this far and he doubted the Bebbezarians were this stupid.

Dyri waved his mend forward.

Arvid tapped Ivano’s shoulder with his axe. “Is that a good idea? You, wanting this man alive?”

“I don’t think they’re going to keep his head on his shoulders,” Arlid added.

“Didn’t want to fight him. Besides, I only need the head if everything else fails-”

Erik grabbed Ivano’s shoulder and pulled him hard to the right while kicking Arvid to the left. A Clansmen flew out of the Keep, streaming blood from his body. Dyri skid along the hard ground before slumping against the far wall. One of his arm and both his legs had twisted in strange ways while his face was drenched in blood. A strange noise came from the keep. Like a bear struggling to climb.

A large soldier emerged from the keep. The soldier, more like a Qaiviel Knight, had to stoop low to get through the door. The giant was easily seven or even eight feet tall, with arms and legs to match. Every part of his body was covered with a thick iron armour with green Bosciycium woven throughout. It was a cheap way of dramatically increasing the strength of armour without spending a fortune. Behind him, he dragged a massive broad-sword, longer than he was tall. It too was made from a mixture of iron and Bosciycium.

The Knight glanced between them, his breath ragged with wet spittle leaking through very small breathing slits. The Knight growled and raised his broadsword ready to strike, but he didn’t advance any further. All drew their axes and readied themselves for a fight, but the Knight stayed still.

“Hello?” Arvid asked the Knight. Nothing came back. “I think he’s one of those…slow people. You know, not all there in the head.”

“That means he’ll be really strong,” Arlid added. “Nothing’s going to stop him once he starts yelling!”

These two really don’t stop once they get going.

Ivano couldn’t see any other safe way into the Keep and he doubted they would survive meeting such a monster inside, nor would it just patiently wait while they infiltrated the keep. He had to be dealt with here. Ivano sighed and advanced. The Knight glanced towards him and readied his broadsword. Ivano raised his shield and ran as fast as he could. He swung his broadsword with a speed Ivano had never seen before. He dodged to the side and angled his shield to deflect the blow to his extended leg. The strike hit the shield and shattered the wood and iron, scattering them in all directions, and continued and crashed into the ground. Ivano’s hand screamed in pain. It wasn’t broken but it was close. The sheer strength of this man…

However the large size and the sheer weight of the sword, and being embedded in the ground meant the Knight was defenceless for a few moments. Arlid and Arvid charged and swung their heavy axes. The Knight grunted and stepped back, the axes striking air, but the twins took another step forward and found their mark. The axes struck the armour, bending and tearing through the plates. Both dropped their weapons as the Knight attempted a wild swing with his fist. It missed but Ivano heard the air tear in front with his swing.

Arvid and Arlid were without weapons as they returned to Ivano’s side. They pulled small knives from their belts.

“That armour’s really tough.” Arvid shook his head as the Knight took his stance again. “And now we don’t have our axes.”

“He should be bleeding,” Erik said quietly. Ivano saw one of the axes hadn’t fallen to the ground and was embedded in the armour around his waist. It was deep enough to draw blood and yet it was still clean.

“Right.” Ivano twirled his axe in his hand. “We’ll take his damn head off and that’ll be the end of him.”

All four readied to attack as the Knight looked between them. The spittle trailing down his helm only grew as his breath grew more ragged and angry. Ivano moved forward first again. The Knight raised his broadsword to cleave him in two. Ivano ran back and the Knight gave chase. He stepped back as Arlid and Arvid struck. Their knives found purchase in the small gaps in the armour. Both backed away as the Knight’s helm swivelled towards Arlid and swung his fist again. It connected with Arlid’s shoulder and sent him flying towards the Keep. He crasged into the wall and fell silent. Arvid cried out but the Knight’s grunt kept their attention.

As the Knight turned back to Ivano and Arvid, Erik swung his smaller axe at the Knights’ head. It struck the mail protecting his neck and dug deep into the flesh beneath. The Knight grunted and swung his Broadsword, with only one hand, at Erik. He ducked and let the sword fly over his head. Erik lunged at the Knight and wrenched the axe free. Instead of a spurt of blood, and the Knight collapsing, he ignored the wound and picked up his sword.

“That’s new.” Arvid smiled, though his eyes darted to his silent brother.

Erik looked at his clean axe.

“No one can survive having their head cut off,” Ivano said. “You get the Arlid’s axe near his feet while I distract him and then you cut his head off. Just stay out of the way, Arvid.”

Erik nodded. If he wanted Ivano dead this was the best chance he had for someone else to take care of him. Ivano doubted that but there was no choice but to trust him.

Ivano shouted at the Knight and caught his attention. He grunted and advanced on Ivano while Erik simply moved out of the way. The Knight moved very quickly and quickly caught up with Ivano. He grunted and raised his broadsword to strike. Ivano saw Erik pick up the discarded great axe and run at the Knight’s back. Ivano felt a pang of fear as the Knight stopped raising his sword and began to swing down. Erik jumped up and swung the large axe at his neck but the Knight was already swinging. Ivano dived out of the way of the strike, landing on his wounded hand, as the sword smashed into the ground. Erik rolled the other side of the sword without the axe in his hands.

The Knight staggered as an armoured hand reached for the axe embedded deep into his neck. Its leg staggered and collapsed to one knee before falling over. The axe’s handle hit the ground before its neck and pushed it up and completely severed the head. The metal helm crashed into the ground, yet no blood spurted from the wound or covered the axe.

“Brother!” Arvid ran towards his still downed brother while Ivano and Erik slowly advanced on the dead Knight.

Ivano hauled himself up and picked up the helmet, the head still contained within, and tried to shake it free. It didn’t rattle and was completely lodged within. The visor opened slightly with his shaking. None of this was making sense. His damaged hand screamed in pain but he wrenched the top of the helmet open.

“Fucking hell.” Ivano looked away from the head within.

“What happened to him?” Erik asked.

The head inside looked like a torture victim. His lips had been removed, strange deep scars carved deep into his face and his flesh held together by black stitches. Even though they looked old they hadn’t healed. A faint purple hue leaked from the wounds which quickly faded with every moment that passed. When it was gone Ivano tipped the helmet over, shouted in shock and dropped the helmet. Erik looked oddly at him before Ivano pointed at the helmet. Where there should have been a flat wound, strangely missing blood, lay a strange tendril amalgamation. Hundreds of black worm-like protrusions dangled from the wound, lying limp and motionless. The Knight’s neck had the same worms but these were still alive. They thrashed in the air as they looked for something. A few more breaths passed and they fell limp like those from the head.

“What did they do to this man?” Erik asked. “My father…My father said the Thieves Kingdom is full of dangerous and evil people. But I didn’t think they would do something like this.”

“I have no idea what this is.” Ivano kicked the Knight. He was still. “Last time I was here they had nothing like this. Nothing like this in Qaiviel either. Or Graterious or Seocuria…”

That Grand Mage though…He wasn’t from Qaiviel though. I wonder if he knows something about this.

Ivano brushed aside the thoughts of the strange trio he met in Qaiviel. He brushed away another thought on what they were doing right now. Whatever it was it was probably better than fighting one of these creations, though none of them would have had much trouble with their magic.

Ivano tried to pick up the sword and couldn’t. It wasn’t his wrist that was the problem, just the sheer weight was too much. He managed to get it up, but only after putting up nearly all his strength into lifting the blade. How the Knight could move such a thing was beyond him.

“He’s still breathing!” Arvid shouted to them.

Ivano and Erik ran to the twins. Arlid was indeed alive, but very badly hurt. His coughs were ragged and hoarse, but he hadn’t punctured or collapsed his lungs, nor were they filling with blood. He knew the faces of those that had. Ivano had held the hands of too many Clansmen as they died with terror in their eyes.

“I…I can still feel my legs.” Arlid smiled weakly. “So I’m not going to be put down just yet. You killed that thing?”

“Yeah…” Ivano didn’t want to think too much about the Knight…creature.

“I’ll be fine.” Arlid continued. “You two get that man of yours. We’ll take care of that Dyri kid as well.”

Ivano had forgotten about Dyri. The Knight took precedence when he emerged. “See if he’s still breathing and stay out of sight. If we aren’t back soon take him and get out of here.”

The twins nodded as Arvid picked up his brother and moved towards Dyri’s body. Ivano didn’t feel much for the kid. He hadn’t been a very smart leader, had cost hundreds of Clansmen’s lives without felling a single Bebbezarian defender, and had charged into the Keep like he owned the place. Nonetheless, a part of him hoped that he lived. It seemed a shame to lose a great warrior. Perhaps he would learn from this.

Ivano raised his axe and pointed Erik to the other side of the door. If another of these Knight creatures hid in the Keep they would have to flee. Essentially it was a miracle they had survived against one. If there were just two he doubted they would have survived.

Ivano peered into the darkness. While he couldn’t see far he could see blood staining the floor, and what remained of Dyri’s bodyguard. He retreated outside the Keep and found a small torch. Now he could see the mangled remains dropped on the floor. No grooves or scratches lay in the wood, the Knight had crushed and torn through them with his bare hands.

Erik followed closely behind Ivano as they stepped through the blood and over the bodies. The interior of the Keep was far better furnished than a normal military building. Once they had passed the first passageway the wood lining the walls became far more expensive. Ivano recognised the red swirls through the dark red. This wood only grew on the Shadow Isles, just a single panel of this tree would cost hundreds of silver, and every wall was covered by it. Other ornamentation unbefitting a Keep; gold furnishing, expensive paintings and lavish furniture, filled every room. This was a place to show off someone’s wealth and not a defensive structure. There was more wealth in one room than in Ivano’s whole village.

In the third room, he spotted something hiding behind a large chair. He passed the torch to Erik and strode into the room. He heard the whimpering grow louder until it screamed as he reached for an arm. A young woman, dressed in expensive maid clothes, was hauled up by Ivano. She hit him in the chest, her strikes incredibly weak over his armour. Finally, she stopped struggling and looked up at him. Her brown doey eyes were already red and tears streamed down her face.

“Where is Gavriel?”

The maid shook her head.

Ivano sighed. “Just tell me and then get out of here. Unless you want to be raped or burned alive.”

The maid seriously considered his offer. Ivano properly looked her over. She was young but clearly rapidly filling out underneath her tight clothes. With a soft face and a growing body, she would be a great prize for an inclined warrior. Ivano was not such a person but couldn’t protect her from the thousands that would want her, and not all of them were men either. She might not even see the dawn if she were taken.

“Upstairs.” She whispered, almost afraid to give up her master. “In the third room on the left after you reach the stairs.”

Ivano let the maid go. “Get out of the Keep. I don’t know if someone else is going to come through here and they won’t take no for an answer. And you don’t want to end up with them, no matter how pretty you are.”

She looked confused at his compliment at the end of his threat. Ivano moved to the side and pushed her out of the building. “Head as far away from the south as you can.”

She stopped, looked him over once and nodded, before running out the door. Erik gave her a wide berth as she ran past the dead Clansmen and out the keep. Ivano hoped she spoke the truth when he gingerly advanced up the stairs. He peeked around the corner and found the second floor just as abandoned as the first. They advanced along the passage until they stopped at the door the maid indicated. It wasn’t locked and opened with a gentle push. Why Gavriel or whoever was inside didn’t lock it was beyond him. Was it a trap?

He waved the torch in to illuminate the room. It was a bedroom, quite a lavish one. The bed alone looked to be worth more than some houses in the Clans. However, he couldn’t see anyone inside. He slowly stepped inside and tried to find signs of someone hiding. Erik moved to the bed and tapped Ivano on the arm. He motioned to underneath the bed. There was enough room for someone to hide underneath.

Both reached the end and toppled the bed to one side. Five people lay underneath; a man, a woman and three small children. The fire shone oddly against their deep red hair, a colour endemic to the south of Bebbezzar. All wore expensive white nightgowns except the man, who wore some sort of leather armour. They looked at Ivano and Erik, then at their weapons.

“Gavriel?” Ivano asked gruffly.

The man nodded meekly, raising his hands over his head. “Please, don’t hurt my family. I’ll pay anything!”

Yeah, this definitely isn’t him. Still, at least we can get out of here.

“All I want is you.” Ivano reached forward and picked him up. “Your family should start running if they don’t want to be caught.”

He looked to his wife, a middle-aged woman of relatively non-descript appearance. “Go. Get them out of here.”

Her eyes were filled with fear for Gavriel and hatred for the Clansmen. Ivano didn’t care for her hatred, he had other things to worry about. She picked the children up and ushered them to the door. Gavriel patted their heads as they ran from the room. Each gave a final glance before they disappeared from sight. No one spoke until their footsteps had disappeared completely.

“What do you want from me?” Gavriel’s hands picked at his fingernails. “I haven’t sent anyone in your lands. I’ve been keeping them back. I thought we had a deal!”

Ivano raised a brow. “With who?”

Now it was Gavriel’s turn to look confused. “Arnkel, Chief of the Fire Blade Clan. We met in secret and we organised a peace deal. We would leave each other alone. In fact, he mentioned something about trade.” Gavriel weakly smiled. “Some of the Clansmen have some very interesting things to trade. We prefer money over war, war is expensive. If-”

“Nevertheless, you need to come with us.” Ivano pulled him towards the door.

“Am I going to die?” Tears began to well in his eyes.

Ivano hesitated. “Not…Not if I can help it. But you’ll improve your chances if you cooperate.”

“I…I understand.” Gavriel held his head low but followed his instructions. Erik took the lead back down the passageway while Ivano stood behind him with his axe ready.

Is Gavriel actually speaking the truth? That Arnkel is actually trying to turn to the Clans away from war? More damn questions…

“Do you have a coat?”

“What?”

“A coat.” Ivano patted his shoulder with the shaft of his axe. “It’ll be very cold where we’re going. Do you have one in here?”

“Yes.”

Gavriel pointed to one of the rooms they passed. Erik opened the door and stood back with his axe and shield raised, expecting a strike. When none came he ventured inside.

“You need to see this.” Erik peeked his head back out.

Ivano held Gavriel with one hand and looked inside. The room was filled with thick heavy coats and pants, all immaculately made, but clearly made for war. Metal plates covered most of the vulnerable sections and extra leather protected the less vital sections.

“Get a set.” Ivano looked to Gavriel. “You were preparing for war, weren’t you?”

Gavriel looked even more nervous. “Part of the agreement was that we needed to be ready to advance to take out another clan if they got too dangerous. But after this I can see why…”

I need to have a word with Arnkel when we’re done with this.

Erik handed him a set of the winter gear. Gavriel sighed and held it close to his chest. He knew that he wouldn’t be seeing his home for some time, if ever.

Once outside Ivano brought Gavriel to a halt once again while Erik travelled towards Arvid and Arlid. They seemed to be okay, both twins were standing, while Dyri appeared to be slowly roused from his unconscious state. Thankfully the Knight creature remained dead on the ground. Gavriel said nothing when Ivano gripped him hard on the neck and pointed his head towards the slain Knight creature.

“Can you explain where you got this…Thing?”

“I can’t.”

Ivano squeezed even harder. “Try.”

“I can’t because they’ll kill me if I do.”

“You actually bought something like this?”

“They said it would keep me safe! That they couldn’t be beaten. I saw it fight against twenty armed men and it didn’t fail. And yet four of you could.”

“Who said this though? And, just so you know, you’re starting to become bloody annoying, and I’ve barely known you for more than a few moments…”

“The Church,” Gavriel said weakly. “The Church of the Holy Father. They came to me, needing money, and offered me this is return.”

“The Church needed money? How many cathedrals do they need?”

“I paid them good money for this. They said it was one of a kind and it would keep me safe from heretics and evil men. For all the good it did me.”

“You don’t even see it as a human…”

“You don’t understand what that thing was like to have around.” Gavriel shook his head. “You didn’t hear it when it slept. How it cried and whimpered all night. How it tried to eat. And there was just this strange feeling that washed over you when it stood near it for too long. My wife couldn’t stand it…I don’t blame her.”

“You didn’t have this the last time I was here.”

Gavriel looked confused. “We’ve only had him since the end of the last winter. Worst decision I’ve ever made.”

Thank the gods they didn’t have more of these things. We wouldn’t have made it into the city even if there were ten of these on the wall.

“Second worst decision, actually.”

“What?”

“When I agreed to have my brother exiled.” Gavriel shook his head. “He was the one who knew things about war and business. I just know business…and not that well it seems.”

Ivano pushed Gavriel forward. “What was his name?”

“Duran.” Gavriel seemed equally ashamed and saddened to say his name. “My brother and best friend. Until he went strange after his wife disappeared. Then, just a few days later, this red-headed woman and her daughter-”

“He’s still alive!” Arvid yelled to Ivano.

Ivano pushed Gavriel forward. Dyri did not look good. His broken limbs looked very bad, though they looked could be healed with time, maybe he would swing an axe again. But the amount of blood leaking from him was very dangerous.

“Can we move him?” Ivano asked.

“Not very far, or fast,” Arvid replied. “Most of the wounds have stopped bleeding though. So as long as he doesn’t get any more we should be able to get him back to the camp in one piece…”

Arvid looked at Ivano. He wondered if Ivano wanted Dyri to live.

“Bring him. Enough people had died today, all for this one.” Arvid and Arlid threw him an odd brow. “And for treasure.”

“Speaking of.” Arlid coughed painfully. “Are we going to get any gold? I was hoping to celebrate in Brennigr. It’ll be the first time I’ve slept with a woman in a long time.”

“That goat doesn’t count?”

Arlid hit his brother. Erik chuckled at the sight, the first time he had since Ivano had met him. As Erik leant down to pick up Dyri a terrific crashing sound came from the north. Several large wooden buildings, heavily engulfed in flames, collapsed. Ivano heard screams emanating from nearby buildings as they started to collapse.

“Let’s go. I’m sure that Dyri will be more than grateful and give us a little bit more of the haul.”

Another loud set of screams came from the north. This wasn’t like civilians being cut down or captured. This was Clansmen dying. Ivano ushered them towards the busted wooden gate while he raced up the stone steps. From the top, he could just make out the forest to the north of the city. Hundreds of tiny lights moved through the forest towards Thessos.

They’re getting really good. Once they start attacking us in the mountains, rather than just swatting us away, there’ll be nothing left of us. We need to fix the Clans before it’s too late. If we don’t we won’t survive another generation, maybe two if we’re really lucky. All our history and our people…gone…

Ivano raced to catch up, continuously pushing them forward and ignoring the questions or orders of the other Clansmen until they reached the safety of their camp.

Chapter 104. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - The Ancient Oak's Defenders

Chapter 104:

Janet’s arms felt incredibly tired. Swinging the short sword over and over again had drained nearly every ounce of strength she had in her new Wood Elven body. Taranath, however, would not relent. He stood to her side, constantly directing and adjusting her stance and swing, alongside Dustine, Percy and Sandy. While she and Dustine were almost completely accustomed to their new bodies Percy and Sandy were not. The shock that the two had actually been children, forcibly transplanted into these new bodies, still lingered at the back of her waking thoughts whenever she saw them. Their minds had not completely adjusted to their new reality and still occasionally tripped or misjudged an action.

“You need to focus more,” Taranath spoke gently to Percy.

Percy, who had taken to Janet as some sort of motherly figure, nodded resolutely and readied to swing the sword again. The objective of today’s training was to finally cut a falling leaf with such speed that it barely noticed their swords passing. Janet looked at her own sword. The thin silvery sword was exceptionally sharp and was nearly as light as a feather. And very, very strong. Yesterday Percy accidentally dropped the blade on a stone. While the stone had chipped the blade remained completely untouched.

“I don’t understand.” Percy slowly and quietly admitted. “I swing it when I think it’s right but I miss.”

“Well…You swing with enough speed, but with nowhere enough intent.” Taranath drew his own blade. “You’re behaving like a child, or a human warrior, waving your blade wildly about and hoping to find a mark. You need to be far better than that.”

“I…” Percy’s eyes glanced back to Janet. Whether Taranath knew about the situation with Percy and Sandy was still up for debate. Not telling the true Wood Elves was one of the first things they had agreed upon. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What am I missing?”

“It’s hard to say,” Taranath admitted. “Usually a Wood Elf would spend hundreds of winters perfecting their strikes. But you don’t have that luxury…So you’ll just have to do your best.”

“Okay.” Percy seemed more than a little dejected and resumed striking at the leaves falling around them.

Their current training was not being held in the usual location near their home, the barracks, rather beneath a massive Oak Tree. This tree reached to some of the highest points of the forest and dwarfed everything nearby. If Janet knew how to climb she might be able to find a way to flee from these people. A gentle cough from Taranath brought her out of her daydreaming. She was the closest to reaching the first goal of Taranath’s personal training and had mentally wandered off for some time. When she looked at him she found the old elf looking strangely at her.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, not offering an explanation. In her long experience, it was best in these situations to just apologise and carry on with your work.

“You almost have it.” Taranath looked at her sword. “You and Sandy, actually.”

Sandy, Percy’s sister, stood apart from them by serval additional steps. She took several deep breaths before slashing again. She struck the leaf but hit the stem and sent it flying away. She sighed and readied herself for another strike. After starting their training with Taranath she had spoken very little, and that was only to ask about their plans or help prep up her younger brother whenever he started to falter. Once again Janet was shocked by the strength she held, though part of her knew that it was a front, one that would falter if properly pushed.

Sandy glanced over and saw Janet looking. She smiled weakly and readied herself to strike again.

“I got it!” Dustine cried out in joy.

In front of her a leaf, sliced perfectly in half, fluttered to the ground. Taranath’s eyes followed the leaf and smiled.

“Very good. But an elite soldier can cut down the leaves for nearly a whole day.”

All four stopped and looked at Taranath. A smile formed on his face, something that she had never seen on another elf in this city, and he shook his head.

“Don’t be too alarmed. They would have taken far longer to reach where you four are right now. You should be proud of yourselves.”

“This is all still new to us,” Janet admitted, resting the tip of the sword on the grassy ground. “I’m sure that you know that none of us have ever swung a sword before.”

Taranath nodded. “Some of your…fellows, aren’t as eager about training as you are. I’ve tried to speak with some but they appear lost. They have spoken fondly of the world you came from. It sounds…cold. Odd. A strange world where most life is controlled and tamed, where you’ve lost contact with the world itself.”

“I…I guess you could say that. But it’s what we know. It’s our home.”

“I can appreciate that. Humans live in strange dwellings compared to us.” Taranath frowned. “Even your current housing is modelled around that.”

But that was already built when we arrived…So how long in the planning was this?

Janet looked at the few Wood Elf houses she could see from their current location. There weren’t many but they looked very simple. Far more simple than what any of them were used to in their world. Still, there was something to living a much simpler lifestyle. A lot less stress.

Taranath looked up at the sun, starting to sink low in the distance. He frowned deeply before sighing. “Okay. That’ll have to be it for today. In about two days we’ll be going on another assault of a Goblin nest.” Taranath smiled warmly when he saw their concern. “Don’t worry. It won’t be as bad as last time. You’re all much stronger than you were, even the rest of your people that don’t do anything other than what they’re told. Some of them seem quite…unstable.”

“Jacobs and his ilk were bad people on Earth,” Janet explained. “They were thugs there and they will be here, though I think they’ve calmed down somewhat.”

Taranath agreed. “Annoyingly they are the best you have to offer, before your training. I believe that Aeirlaya has something planned for them.”

“You don’t like her, do you?” Dustine asked.

Taranath’s face darkened as he looked away. “I do not like my brother’s daughter. He’s spoiled her for the lifetimes of human empires, and it has eaten away at the kind young girl I once knew. Thankfully my brother still trusts me more than his daughter. If…” he shook his head and clapped his hands. “Another time perhaps. Time to go back for dinner and then sleep. You all look like you need it.”

All four were breathing extremely raggedly the moment they were given a moment to relax. Janet was glad to have this body. If she tried this in her old body…

Taranath sheathed his sword and walked away from the giant oak tree. They followed closely behind but Janet spared a final glance to the tree. This one felt, different. Ancient and yet somehow sentient, like it was watching them somehow. While she was about to call it stupid she remembered the magical bow that Taranath had grown from his hands. Magic existed in this world and there were things far more ridiculous than growing a bow from magical vines. It wouldn’t be so far-fetched if a tree started speaking to her.

“Are you coming?” Taranath called back. The other three had been sent forward but he waited for her. He mustn’t have wanted her to wander off, they were very close to the edge of the forest city.

“Yes…I just felt something.”

Taranath nodded as she walked alongside him. “Giro’s is an ancient being, far older than I, and far more kind and wise.”

“That tree is alive? But…But we’ve been cutting those leaves.”

“Do you worry about the skin that falls from your body?”

“No.”

“Think of it like that. But don’t try and take some bark from him. He doesn’t like that.” Taranath smiled. “While he can’t move he has friends to help him if needs to.”

“Like what?” Janet cocked her head.

“Faeries, for one.”

Taranath stopped and whistled towards the tree, a long song with rises and falls. From the top branches, several bright green lights fluttered down. Janet strained her eyes and saw the branches were swollen and gnarled where the lights flew out from. Several dark holes adorned the outside of the growth where more bright lights emerged.

Taranath stopped the others and brought them back as the lights descended and fluttered around them. The lights were not spheres but rather small women emitting bright green light. Barely ten centimetres tall, they had long flowing green hair with pale white skin and a tight green dress that appeared to be nothing more than a leaf wrapped around their slim bodies.

“These are faeries?” Percy asked as one floated around his head.

The faeries giggled, incredibly faint and fleeting, and began pulling at his hair and ears. He swatted them away but they moved effortlessly to avoid his swings. If anything it encouraged them to tease him further.

“Faeries are the natural guardians of the ancient oaks.” Taranath began as a larger faery landed on his head and began to pull on his air. “As you can see they’re quite prone to being very annoying to those they like.”

“They’re very pretty.” Dustine held her hand and a fairy landed on it. Its tiny feet didn’t actually touch but it stopped floating. Dustine smiled and reached to touch the faery. A finger made contact with its hair and both smiled. “It’s really soft.”

“It is.” Taranath gently shoed away the faery tugging at his hair. “But if they do get annoying just tell them to go away. They don’t like to be yelled at and will come back with gifts, berries usually, so they can keep playing with you.”

“How…How can this protect the forest?”

“I’m not a this!” A faery fluttered down in front of Janet’s face, her little face scrunched up in ager. “I’m a faery of the forest, defender of the trees!”

It reached out and flicked her nose. She jolted back as a ripple of electricity shot through her body.

“Ow!” Janet rubbed her nose as the faery floated in a circle around her head. “What was that for?”

“We aren’t things!” the faery adamantly stated, pounding its foot on the air, tiny sparks of green bursting out from its stomp. “We tend to the forest far better than you Wood Elves. We can make sure that not even a single leaf grows awry. We-”

“That’s enough Cintrine,” Taranath spoke a little more harshly than normal.

The faery glanced back and almost growled, in its light and fleeting voice. “But-”

“They are new and don’t know what you do for the forest and the world at large.”

“How…” Cintrine floated mere centimetres from Taranath’s face. “What has your kind done this time? Huh? What has your silly brother done now?” She shook her head. “You should have been king.”

“That wasn’t for me to decide.” Taranath reached out and gently patted Cintrine. “These are the people that are going to help us defeat the Demons.”

“Hmm…” Cintrine floated around Janet’s head, even as the other faeries continued to play and annoy the others. “Maybe. But those things are really strong. And there are lots of them too.”

“We’ll do fine,” Taranath said. “But could you show them how strong you are?”

Cintrine huffed and flew into the sky. She returned a moment later with a single golden armour segment, one that took extreme effort on her part. When she dropped it onto Taranath’s hand he barely noticed the weight. “Throw that into the sky.”

“Right.” Taranath looked at Janet. “This is Adamantium infused with the power of the sun, forged in the-”

“Just throw it.” Cintrine zapped his finger lightly.

Taranath sighed and threw the fragment into the sky. Cintrine looked up and held out her hand. A tiny green ball grew in the palm of her hand before it shot forth towards the glittering and spinning golden fragment. It struck and exploded in a massive ball of light. Green sparkles descended around them while Cintrine buzzed around Janet with an air of importance.

“That was pretty strong,” Janet said, not really knowing the right words to say.

Cintrine scoffed and raised her head in supremacy. “Of course. I can do that all day. Well, so long as the sun is shining.”

“Like a solar panel.” Dustine idly said while she fended off a faery buzzing around her face.

“A what?” Cintrine cocked her head and looked at Taranath.

“Don’t worry about it.” Janet didn’t want to offend the faery further. “But that’s really impressive. Can you take down a Demon?”

Cintrine smiled wildly and nodded furiously. “I’ve taken down several by myself. Though they were pretty tough.”

Taranath batted away another playful fairy. “As you can see they’re pretty tough and more than strong enough to scare away a goblin or something stupid that tries to get too close to the Ancient Oaks.”

“Like those annoying Kobolds.” Cintrine huffed.

“Thank you, ladies, for coming down and showing us your power.”

“It was fun!” A faery squealed as it flew past.

“Come again soon!” Another shouted.

Cintrine bowed her head and flew back to the gnarled branch on the oak. All the lights quickly disappeared into the tree and everything became quiet.

“They were really pretty,” Sandy said.

“They were.” Percy smiled and placed his hand over his eyes to block out the sun as he looked at the top of the tree.

“They can be a little annoying,” Taranath chuckled and ushered them towards the city again. “But they are some of the more loyal and useful denizens of the forest. They also answer Nithroel’s call, so…”

“Is she a good goddess?” Janet asked.

Taranath nodded. “She has guided our people through many crises and wars. Though, I think she is fallible as any person at times.”

Janet was honestly shocked. “How can you talk ill of your goddess? Can she not hear you?”

“She can. But anyone that only receives praise, even for their more questionable actions…well, it’ll bend and warp them. And I, for one, will never lie to her. If I need to say that she’s being a fool then I will be that one. Even if everyone else licks her feet no matter how hard she kicks them.”

“I…I imagine that might make you unpopular.”

Taranath shrugged. “Perhaps. But they’ve seen what happens when they do.”

He said nothing more until they reached the barracks. Once again the other Wood Elves regarded with thinly veiled looks of scorn. Janet mentally sighed and ignored their looks. If she had her way she wouldn’t even be here. None had asked to come here.

Taranath waved goodbyes they entered the barrack, guarded by two very observant Wood Elven soldiers. Only their eyes moved as they passed through the door. The interior was mostly abandoned except for Jacobs and his thugs. They sat at the far end of the empty barracks on some very comfortable looking chairs with two female Wood Elven servers either side. They ravenously ate a plate of food, chicken and fruit, and some glanced up at them. They glanced only once then returned to their food. Janet suppressed a smile. For all their bravado when they arrived they had yet to recover after their first battle. They were more than eager enough to practice but after that, they returned to their bunks and ate.

Maybe they’re trying to grow more muscle. I hear that chicken is supposed to be good for that…

Nor had any of them followed their all but stated goal to seduce the Wood Elven women. For the most part, the wood elves appeared disgusted that such a thing would even be contemplated and the most receptive politely ignored them the first time and vehemently rejected them the second. The brutal rejection had dampened their spirits.

Janet nodded for them to enter her room. While she was sure the Wood Elves came into their rooms after they left to clean and check for anything untoward, she had deliberately managed to sneak some food and leave it tucked underneath her bed. It had not been removed, though that could be another ploy.

“Make sure the door is shut.”

“Are you sure about this?” Dustine asked after she shut the door. “Can’t they just listen through the wall?”

“Maybe. And I’ve checked outside when they’ve given us some free time. It’s very thin. So we’ll just have to whisper.” Janet waited until they were all together. “So, has anyone made any progress?”

“No.” Dustine and Sandy replied.

“I managed to get some water skins.” Percy smiled. “After one of the training sessions, they didn’t take them back. So I kept four big ones and gave the rest back.”

“Why?” Sandy asked.

“Because…” He looked a little bashful. “Because I know that if you let them know they forgot something they’ll think better of you and not that you stole something. If you stole something why would you let them know they didn’t take it the first time?”

“Is that from personal experience?” Janet threw up a brow.

Percy chuckled and flushed lightly while Sandy shook her head.

“And where are they?”

“Right now they’re in my pillow. That’s the only place I could think to put it right now.”

“Okay. So we’ve got water, at least some water. Anything else?”

“I’ve seen where they throw away our food.” Dustine continued. “It’s this big pit really far into the forest. We could say that we’ve got excess food and get some of the longer lasting stuff like nuts and stone fruit…Nothing here is refrigerated or frozen or salted so…”

“Good. Now…” Janet sighed. “Now we need the map. That’ll be the hardest part.”

“That woman with the big breasts…” Percy trailed off as his young imagination took hold.

“Aeirlaya…” Sandy dryly said.

“Yeah. Well, she goes to one of the big buildings all the time. But I never saw anyone else coming or going, except for Taranath. And I saw him going in there once with a large roll of paper with lots of colours on it. Could that be a map?”

“It could be.” Janet nodded. “Right. I’ll see about heading there when everyone else is asleep and see what I can find.”

“Not all of us?” Dustine seemed very worried.

“If I’m caught I’ll be the only one punished. And none of you want any part of that. And you have the other parts of our plan.” Janet shrugged dramatically. “I didn’t find anything so this’ll be my part.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“It’ll be fine.” Janet rose from the bed. “Better go get some sleep. I’ll let you know in the morning how it went.”

Chapter 105. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Infiltration

Chapter 105:

Janet didn’t have the luxury to go to sleep. If she did she had no idea what time she would wake up. While her body was new her mind still lingered in her old body and liked to sleep in. She sat on the side of the bed and glanced out the wooden slat window. The stars were mostly hidden from view but Janet wasn’t using that to determine the passing of time. She watched the Wood Elves walking past. As the night dragged on they became fewer and fewer until she didn’t see any pass for seemingly an hour. She opened the window and peered out. The Wood Elven houses were almost all completely dark with only a few twinkling lights dotting the hundreds of homes. If she was going to go try and get a hold of that map it was now.

She checked her clothes over for anything that might rattle or make a noise. When she found nothing she took a deep breath and made for the door.

Just as her hand reached for the handle the door flew open. A fully armoured Wood Elf soldier stood on the other side, surprise on his face.

Shit! They know! Did they manage to listen in?

“Thank the Gods that you’re up.” He said. Janet suppressed the need to question his words. “Get ready for combat right now.”

“What’s happening?”

The soldier didn’t ask and knocked on the next door. Screams and sounds of breaking wood came from outside. Janet looked through the open window to see lights emerging in all the houses. Another three soldiers knocked on the doors to wake the others. The people that stumbled out were tired and rubbing their eyes and their long ears. Janet realised that she was the odd one out, even her other colleagues looked just as tired and disorientated.

Jeffrey stumbled out, groaning as he rubbed his ruffled hair. “What is it this time?”

This time?

“Demons.” The soldier replied without looking back. “They’ve breached the outer perimeter and are coming here. Everyone needs to get their weapons and armour right now.”

“But you twats keep those,” Jeffrey grumbled. The soldier stopped for a moment to think. “So go get them.”

The entrance burst open and Taranath stepped forward, flanked by heavily armoured soldiers. “Outside everyone! Right now! We’ll get your armour and weapons soon.”

“How are supposed to fight?” Janet asked.

Taranath barely spared her a glance. “You aren’t to fight. Not this time. You are to hang back and observe. Observe the horrors that come for us all.”

“But-”

“No time. They-”

A rushing wind, and the beating of wings came from above the barracks, the wood groaned loudly and violently as everyone stood still and silent. From outside distant screams started to flow, the clash of metal on stone followed soon after.

Taranath scowled and left the barracks. The soldiers followed him and motioned for them to follow. Janet saw the confused and somewhat terrified look on their faces. If she had time, and they hadn’t been forced to fight so quickly, she would have spoken to each to try and raise their spirits. While she and Jeffrey had formed their own little groups of support everyone else simply retreated away from their new reality. It would take a gentle hand or a shocking push to bring them out of their stupor.

The ground outside glowed a faint orange. In the distance the forest was on fire, great plumes of roaring orange fire and thick smoke rose far into the night sky. Screams and shouts came from the burning forest alongside the snapping of wood. Wood Elves of all ages ran about in a state of complete panic. The children, though Janet knew they were several hundred years old and still looked to be below ten, followed their parents terrified of the growing sounds of violence.

“There!” Taranath pointed to the top of the smoke plume. “That is what we fight!”

Through the smoke and illuminated by the fire a giant snake trailed through the sky. Its head looked like a snake, except elongated downwards and angular, with six red slit eyes above an open mouth leaking copious amounts of orange liquid. Behind the head lay several large fish-like fins, the veins pulsing with a faint orange hue. Many more of these fins grew along its body cumulating in a massive thin tail that whipped through the air.

Janet’s mind returned to their first meeting. She remembered the first meeting they saw images of the Demons in the strange flame. In the back of her mind, she considered them very far away if they were even real. But now they were here…

“Sir!” A female Wood Elf soldier, very heavily armoured with a dark wooden bow with gold ornamentation, ran up to Taranath. She was covered in cuts and deep burns. Janet’s medical training tugged on her mind to rush to her aid but she held herself back. “Two of the Serpent Queens have already been fought off but one still remains.”

“Yes.” Taranath nodded towards the snake above the smoke clouds. “We can’t reach it from here. A Treant Archer might.”

“But they’re fighting still fighting the Drones and Guardians in the forest.”

The Serpent Queen above shrieked and its body undulated violently. From each segment six small and one large black spheres dropped into the fire. She didn’t hear them land but the sounds of fighting quickly grew more intense.

“Bitch is still bringing more friends for us to fight.” Taranath held the soldier's hand. She flushed brightly as he muttered something. From his hand, several small green vines grew around her hand. She winced in pain as the wounds faded away with brushes of the vines.

“Try and find the Treants and get their archers here. If we don’t take down the Queen they’ll keep dropping more things for us to fight.” The woman looked to where Taranath touched her. “Go!”

She jumped in surprise, a flush of embarrassment, and ran into the forest. Taranath shook his head. “Like I actually have time for such things.”

Several lightly armoured elven soldiers returned to their side with their armour. Taranath stepped away from them while he directed the battle from inside the city. The chaos began to calm somewhat and the people started to behave more rationally.

For people that live for thousands of years...I thought you'd be better at it than this.

When everyone had their armour fastened and their weapons ready terrified and panicked yells came from the edge of the city. Thirty heavily armoured Elven soldiers fought something in the darkness of the city edge. They flew back, some torn in half with blood sprayed everywhere, as eight black skinned creatures darted through their lines.

“Drones!” Taranath yelled.

The Demon Drones were humanoid creatures a little taller than two meters with six arms. Their skin was black and looked like a mixture of snakeskin and charcoal. Their small bulbous heads, with two large orange glowing compound insect eyes, were sunk low into their body, visually raising their shoulders almost to eye level. A terrifying set of white teeth jutted out beneath the eyes, many chunks of flesh stained the white teeth. Blood dribbled down their bodies.

Janet drew her sword, but it felt heavy in her hand. The Goblins had been terrifying enough but these were something else entirely. And the name Drone hinted that these were the weakest of the Demons.

An elf shot one of the Drones in the side of the head. The arrow pierced the black hide and stunned the Drone. From the wounds, a small bundle of vines grew into the blackened hide. It howled in pain before it ripped the arrow out, took a step towards the elf and fell down. The vines continued to grow and destroyed the creature’s head. Unfortunately, another Drone ran at the elf, its hands, wielding deadly bone bleached white claws, outstretched to fight. The elf dropped its bow and drew its sword. The Drone swiped and two of its hands connected with the sword. The silver sword dug deep into its hide, but that left four arms free. It pushed forward and swiped with its other hands. They struck the armour and dug deep, the elf coughing up blood as the Drone dug its claws deeper into his flesh. Before it could tear the poor elf in two another elf shot the Drone in the head again. This time the arrow struck between the eyes and the creature went limp, its four hands slid out of the elf and blood flowed out. The rescuing elf started to drag his wounded colleague away. The remaining drones fought on but were quickly dispatched without any further losses, though many were wounded.

“Get them to the healers!” Taranath yelled.

If these are Drones what chance do we have?

The wounded elves, those still breathing at least, even those missing limbs, arrived at their feet. Taranath saw Janet’s concern as he knelt down to the side of the most heavily injured soldier.

“Rest.” Taranath patted the head of the shaking man as a green glow emanated from his hand. “The vast majority of our soldiers are fighting near the Shifting Isles, where these things come through. These are just militia wearing armour. But they fight like the bravest of soldiers.”

“They’re so fast.” The wounded elf muttered as the green glowing vines raked over his body, licking at and repairing the wounds. “And so many of them…”

“Rest,” Taranath ordered. He stood up as four Wood Elves arrived, wearing monk styled clothes, and began casting the same green magic. “I-”

“More are coming!” Another voice yelled out.

Tarnath grumbled and looked at the first breach. The defending Wood Elves had retreated from that section and allowed more Drones to pour through. Dozens of them, and all running towards them.

Taranath looked at them. “This is your chance to prove that you are worthy of Nithroel’s blessing.”

A glow emanated from his hand and a vine bow grew. Janet stepped forward, alongside Dustine, Percy and Sandy. Jeffrey grumbled something and he, and his thugs stepped forward as well. It felt strange they would be fighting alongside them. The others slowly advanced though Janet saw that some wanted to just run. Taranath fired his first vine arrow. It struck and instantly consumed the closest Drone and transformed into a green parody of itself. The Drones ignored it and ran at full speed towards them. Taranath dispatched another five Drones before he released the bow, the vine bow vanishing into a green light mist, and drew his sword. Several Drones peeled off towards Taranath while the others continued their charge towards them. They howled something unintelligible as they opened their mouths and readied their hands to strike. Janet heard something behind her, some of the Heroes had turned and fled. Though she wanted to survive as well something made her stay and gave her the determination to fight. Was it the injured people behind her? Or something else to do with her new body? It didn’t matter, but a little under half of the Heroes remained to fight.

The Drones spread out and picked one person to descend upon. There was almost a smile on their weird faces as they attacked. Janet tried her best to remember Taranath’s training, though that was a almost impossible when facing down something so terrifying. She crouched low and readied to lunge forward and strike the Drone in the chest. If she missed or tried to defend she would be torn apart by one of its six hands.

The moment it was in range Janet lunged forward with all her might. Their Wood Elven bodies moved so much faster than their old human forms. She reached the Drone in a blink of an eye, the creature’s own compound eyes appeared to widen in shock before she struck the centre of its body. The tip pierced through its hide, the grinding sensation transferred through the blade to her hand as it pushed through with relative ease. The Drone stopped and swiped at her head but the attacks were weak and uncoordinated. She pushed the blade as hard as she could until she felt something shatter. The Drone shuddered and fell backwards, its body turned limp as it crashed onto the ground. The other Drones passed her by only to fly backwards. The other Heroes followed her lead and struck at once. Their swords pierced through their hides and found something near their heart, the cracking so loud that Janet could hear it over the fighting, and they fell back dead. The remaining Drones stopped, their numbers cut down to just a few and tried to flee. Janet drew her sword out of its corpse and turned to fight the remaining Drones. A thin orange blood stained the silver of the sword. Janet wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t bleed red, not with the Drones looking like they did. Something told her not to let it touch her skin.

“Just die already!” Jeffrey yelled as he stabbed the Drone’s head repeatedly. He and his thugs tore through the Drones they attacked, while those they missed stepped back while they barred their white teeth.

Something bumped into Janet’s side. Dustine, blood trailing down her face from a claw wound, smiled as she stood to her side with her orange blood-stained sword. Percy and Sandy quickly came to their side, fewer wounds but panting furiously as their eyes darted about.

Janet readied to fight the remaining Drones, along with the other Heroes, before they exploded in a shower of green sparks. Their intact lower bodies slumped to the ground and leaked copious amounts of orange blood onto the grass. The grass shrivelled and burst into flames as green spheres descended around them. The faeries held out their hands and shot more green blasts at the Drones. They dispatched the remaining Drones except those fighting Taranath. All of those had been cut in half while only one remained. Taranath was completely unharmed, not even a scratch on his golden armour or his pale skin. His eyes were hard and unflinching. The remaining Drone panicked as its feet danced on the grass. A faery zipped by, its hand outstretched to fire a green bolt. The Drone turned its head a little to twist its compound eyes to face the faery but took its attention off Taranath for a crucial second. By the time it realised its mistake Taranath had already cut it in two. A look of stupefaction washed over its charred face as its body slid apart. Taranath stepped back to avoid any of the burning orange blood.

“Thanks, Cintrine.” Taranath smiled at the faery floating around his head. “You saved me a bit of trouble.”

She huffed and turned away from him. “You shouldn’t ever put yourself in such situations. You mean too much to our kind for you to die here like this.” She turned to him, tiny tears falling down her face. When they left her body they disintegrated into green sparkles of light.

Taranath chuckled. “I don’t intend to die today, or for a long time yet.” He looked to the rest of the Heroes. “Good decision to attack first. You didn’t have the skill or strength to fight them properly so it was the right decision to take the initiative and attack with a killing blow in mind.”

Cintrine buzzed near his head, throwing his a deep frown.

“Sorry. I can get a little distracted by war. It is a fascinating thing.” Taranath shook his head. “And trying to over analyse things.”

He looked to Cintrine and the other Faeries. “Can you help us find Anthurium? I think he’s the only one strong enough to reach the Serpent Queen now.”

The Serpent Queen shrieked again and released another batch of small black balls into the flames beneath it. Taranath clicked his tongue as the sounds of fighting grew once again.

“I think I saw him before.” Cintrine nodded to the centre of the noise. “He’s fighting the Guardians in the forest.”

“That’ll be the end of him if he’s not careful. Get him here right now and we’ll deal with the Serpent Queen.”

Cintrine nodded and fluttered away, followed by the rest of the faeries. As they flew into the dark forest the Demons screamed as they blasted through their numbers. Taranath smiled as he walked up to them.

“Is everyone alright?”

“I think so,” Janet replied.

She looked around, only to see one of the Heroes lying on the ground with their stomach torn open, their guts spilt onto the grass. His eyes were empty and stared up at the night sky, his face forever contorted in pain and fear. White claws jutted from his wound, broken off in his armour. Taranath rushed to his side and knelt down to check his pulse. He stood up a few seconds later.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “There’s nothing that can done now.”

Janet felt her heart sink. Someone they should have helped, someone they should have talked with and tried to work together with had just died. She didn’t even know his name. Did anyone?

“This is why you need to train.” He scowled at most of them, avoiding Janet and her colleagues. “Hard. Only a few of you did anything more than the bare minimum of training. You are absolutely pathetic.”

“This isn’t our fight.” Someone spoke up that clearly made Taranath’s blood boil. “We didn’t ask to be here.”

Janet didn’t know who it was but it was a woman that had tried to flee and had strangely returned. Not so strange when she saw the Wood Elven soldiers standing a few meters away.

“Well, you’re fucking here now!” Taranath grabbed the woman by the neck and lifted her off the ground. “You don’t have a choice. They!” He pointed to the dead Drones, still able to hold her up with one hand, then to the dead Hero. “They want to kill you. They want to kill everything in this world. They don’t give a shit where you are or what you’ve done. And the only person that’s going to stop them is you. Standing up for yourself against this…Do you even know who that was?”

She shook her head as her hands tried to pry at his.

“No. Of course not. Most of you just retreated rather than confronting your new reality.” Taranath shook his head again. “It is tough and terrible. But you all need to grow a spine. Well, after this I won’t give you the chance to hide anymore.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” Taranath released his grip and let her drop to the ground. “You humans are like children. Stupid children. I’ve been too lenient with you while I tried to deal with Aeirlaya’s interference. To hell what my brother says about her.” He looked towards the forest and smiled when he saw the faeries swarming close to the clearing. “Especially with all the bullshit he put us through.”

Jeffrey laughed. “Nice one. Taking control from the King’s daughter during the war.” He sniggered, a wicked smile forming on his handsome face, one made worse by the knowledge of what he really looked like. “That’s a real low move. Though I agree with it, really. Someone once lectured me about-”

“And you.” Taranath turned to Jeffrey. “You’re just as bad as them. I’ve seen you and the way you act. You’re strong, yes. But you’re just a thug, who’s just a good hitter but not good at anything else. We need people better than that in order to push these things back. Ones that can use the gifts that you were given, but there’s not much else going on up there. Is there?”

“What did you say?” Jeffrey’s eye twitched.

Taranath turned and slapped Jeffrey’s head. He stumbled from the strike and fell to a knee. Jeffrey looked up at Taranath in shock, slowly a smile falling on his face.

“Ha! And I thought you were just an old bustard in the world of these eternal children.” Jeffrey laughed. “Oh, you’re good. You’re good for a laugh. But don’t think I’ll forget that.”

“You would need another thousand winters to get even close enough to be able to strike me.”

“Why do you call it that?” Jeffrey stood back up and massaged his reddening long ear. “Why don’t you-”

A faery flashed past Taranath’s face. Janet’s fingers reached for her sword when she saw something massive moving behind them, easily ten meters tall. It wasn’t a Demon but rather…a walking tree. Some sort of a walking tree. A thick cylindrical body walked towards them with a face embedded into the central trunk. Its arms and legs were long and groaned as it slowly walked, long spindly branches made up its hands while for its feet it had root and moss covered stumps. It lumbered towards them while the faeries darted around it.

Taranath smiled. “Everyone, this is Anthurium. He is an Ancient Treant, one of the very few.”

“I’m not that old,” Anthurium replied. He spoke slowly and every word was difficult to understand, the sound of grinding wood permeated every word. “But there are so few of us left now.”

“Compared to us you’re old.”

Anthurium chuckled. “Yes. I guess we are. What did you want? Cintrine didn’t say.”

Cintrine buzzed to the side of Taranath’s head. “I did. But he doesn’t listen. He’s too slow and stupid to understand half of the things we say.”

“No.” Anthurium shook his trunk head. “We just don’t have the strength to deal with all your incessant chattering. Especially when everything you say in your homes can be heard throughout the forest.”

“What?” Cintrine hid behind Taranath’s head. “What did you hear?”

“Everything that you’ve been complaining about. Such as your unrequited love.” Cintrine burst into a flush, a much brighter green shade covered her skin. “At least I think it was. I don’t remember. Memories…”

“Please, you two.” Taranath brushed Cintrine back to the side of his head. “I need your help to deal with the Serpent Queen.”

Anthurium nodded. “Yes. That snake is very annoying. And very fast. Why haven’t you killed it yet?”

“Because I still want to move in the morning.” Taranath nodded towards the Heroes. “I need to start training these people tomorrow morning.”

“So these are them.” Anthurium leant forward. “They don’t seem like much.”

“Because Aeirlaya and I have been fighting over what to do and we’ve been getting nowhere.”

“Hmm…Never liked her. Or her father. It should have been you.” Anthurium looked at the Serpent Queen swimming through the sky. “If you had-”

“Another time.” Taranath opened his hand and grew another vine bow. “Take this and shoot her down.”

Anthurium extended his hand and took the bow. His body glowed and the vine bow grew until it was nearly as large as him. He turned to the Serpent Queen and began to ready the bow.

“Guardian!” a voice came from the forest.

Janet felt her heart drop when the trees were thrown aside once again. This time a single massive creature came through. It looked like a burnt dog, though much, much larger. The Demon Guardian stood six or seven meters tall with six horizontal orange slits for eyes. A think orange liquid wept from its eyes down its downward elongated face. A large forked tongue lapped up the liquid as it darted in and out of a mouth framed by massive obsidian teeth. While the Drones had a mixture of snakeskin and charcoal this was entirely covered in a thick charcoal hide that buckled and bulged in strange and odd ways. The Guardian snarled as it looked at Anthurium and charged. Janet reached for her blade but didn’t know how they could defeat the creature.

Cintrine and the faeries flew forward and fired green blasts at its face. Each shot blew away a fragment of armour but it wasn’t enough to stop it. Anthurium lowered the bow and shot the Guardian in the head. The giant vine arrow smashed through its skull and penetrated deep into its flesh. Almost immediately the transformation began to tear through its skin, the Guardian struggled and twitched as its body was remade into vines. The transformation was nowhere near as fast as the Drones or the Goblins. Puffs of smoke emanated from the vines as they burst into flames even as they were continued to grow through and consumed its body.

“The blood of the Demons.” Anthurium turned to them. “Burns. And slows magic.”

“Damn things are bristling with Ghlyirl,” Taranath grumbled. “We found that out pretty quickly.”

“And that is?” Janet quietly asked, all attention falling on her.

Cintrine floated in front of her face. “Ghlyirl is a metal that inhibits magic. And nearly all the Demons have it coursing through their blood.”

“So if it touched you…”

Cintrine smiled bitterly and nodded. “Yes. I would die.”

Anthurium readied another vine arrow and aimed it at the Serpent Queens head. He drew the bow to its maximum draw and released. The vine arrow shot through the air like a bullet and struck the jaw of the Serpent Queen. It howled in pain as the vines immediately began transforming its body. The giant body undulated and it tried to force the vines loose. It was no use and its howling stopped as the vines reached its head and enveloped its mouth. The Serpent Queen thrashed one last time before its head slumped down and its massive body fell lifelessly towards the ground. It fell through the air, almost silently, until it crashed into the forest. Plumes of cinders and smoke burst into the air as it disappeared beneath the trees.

Anthurium chuckled and handed the bow back to Taranath. “You could have done that.”

“As I said, I want to move tomorrow.”

“There’s still a lot of Drones and Guardian’s in the forest.” Anthurium looked at Cintrine and the other faeries. “We’ll need your help to get rid of them.”

Cintrine nodded and signalled for her to fellow faeries to follow her. They swarmed in front of Anthurium and fluttered into the forest. More bright green flashes erupted in the forest as the Demons screamed in panic.

Taranath shook his head. “This is merely a small strike force. They could never hold this city, just enough to cause havoc. And to kill you. I don’t know if they can sense you but it’s strange they would come here. There’s no way for them to make it back before we would crush them.”

Taranath smiled as the flashes of green light quickly became less frequent. “The threat is dealt with, for now. Everyone is to return to their bunks. Training will begin at first light tomorrow morning.”

Janet waited before everyone started to leave before she spoke. “What about Aeirlaya?”

Taranath shrugged. “I’ll deal with her. You four show the most promise, and it’s a shame that we had been fighting for so long. Those damn fanatics of Nithroel are an unending source of worry.” He sighed again. “But that’s not for you to worry about. At least you now know what it is that we fight. And they’ve got a whole bunch more things to throw at us than these.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Taranath nodded. “We wouldn’t just bring your souls to this world because we were bored. We need more than just physical strength. In the next few days, we’ll start practising your magic. With training, you should be able to do far more than even Anthurium could with that bow.”

“Wow…I…I have a lot to think about.”

“I bet you do.” Taranath turned to the injured Elves. “Go to bed. I’ll give the final rites to your fallen comrade.”

Janet looked down at the dead Wood Elf, actually a human inhabiting its body.

What fears, hopes and dreams did you have? Did you really want to go home or were you just lost like so many of us? I don’t think there’s a way to bring you back, that’s beyond even God’s power, or this Nithroel’s too.

Janet glanced at the burning forest.

We could flee, but is that right? After seeing how these people, and creatures, struggle so valiantly just to survive…I don’t think we should run. Not yet at least. There are some good ones here, even amongst us. I don’t think we’d last long against the Demons if we ran anyway.

Janet stepped around the dead Hero, his body was being tended to by the Wood Elf soldiers, and towards the barracks and the awaiting Dustine. Questions swarmed through her mind but she had no answers as she fell into a troubled sleep.

Chapter 106. Vol 3 - Dragon Tooth Bay

Chapter 106:

Anton, Verona, Kal and Cetina stood at the prow of The Snowberry. The sea spray splashed his clothes, slowly encrusting them with thin white lines of dried salt, stiffening his hair and drying his skin but he didn’t care. He, no, they had accomplished something that appeared impossible. In the hull of The Snowberry, hundreds of Beast-kin slaves sat silent and still. Waiting to be free and feel the sun on their faces. The freed Beast-kin had worked wonders on the rest of the slaves. None had said a word to the crew and accepted every meal and drink with a silent thanks. Wilford asked Anton several times each day what he did to make the Beast-kin slaves, who outnumbered them by over an order of magnitude, so docile and compliant. Anton put on a brave face when he suggested teaching the Seocurian’s what he did. Such a thing would make him the most sought-after man in Seocuria. Before they parted Anton needed to sort that out. There couldn’t be any word of what happened beneath the decks reaching the slavers.

Verona, nestled in his arms, hummed her wordless tune as her head bobbed from side to side. Over the past few days she had become increasingly fond of cuddling, even outside of bed. She didn’t have much of an answer other than she wanted to cuddle. Anton didn’t mind as it always felt good to feel her soft and warm form underneath his fingers.

Verona stopped humming and turned to Anton. “Won’t be long now until we reach solid ground.” Verona chuckled. “And another day closer to home.”

Anton kissed her head. “Shouldn’t be much longer than two weeks or so once we do. And after everything we’ve been through I’ll be glad to see home again.”

“I’m really interested in seeing this place you come from.” Cetina leant against the wooden railings. The sea salt didn’t mix well with her metal armour. Currently she only wore her chest armour over her normal yellow, blue and red clothes. “It makes a lot more sense that you came from some far away city than from the mountains near the Clans, dressed and acting like you do.”

“Did you ever believe that?” Anton asked.

Cetina paused before shrugging. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so but you gave me a lot of gold so I didn’t really worry about it. And you were nice to me, so…”

“Not much longer now,” Kal said. Her gloved hands gripped impossibly tight on the wooden railings. “Then you’ll be free. All of you.”

Anton reached over and held Kal’s hand. Her masked face jerked towards him before her stance softened. The past few days had been an absolute whirlwind of emotions. For nearly half of her time awake she spent speaking with her mother. There was a lot of making up to do, a little over two decades worth, in a very short time. Each time she came back Kal seemed a little happier and moved with a lighter step. Apparently, Marion continued to express concern over their relationship but Kal reiterated that she wasn’t forced or coerced into any sort of relationship.

“I can’t believe it.” Kal’s hands rattled on the wood. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “After so long-”

A tremendous splash interrupted her. To the starboard side of the ship a small boulder crashed into the water several hundred meters away. Anton watched the ripple of water travel over the surface towards their ship. The ripple was small when it reached them but he felt the ship rise and shift slightly. The source of the boulder, and why it didn’t cause any alarm, was the giant mountain range that travelled along the horizon to their right. The giant, sheer grey mountain range began a few days before the coastal border between the Graterious and the Kar Kingdom and had continued ever since. A few of the mountains were capped with snow but otherwise were grey and lifeless.

Verona lent over and chuckled. “At least that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about in…our home.”

Wilford’s heavy steps caught Anton’s attention. “Everyone. According to the map, we’ll be arriving at Dragon Tooth bay very soon.” He pointed to two mountains that rose above the others. “If the map is correct that’ll be the entrance. The only entrance. Are you sure about this?”

Secretly, Anton was not. This was unexplored territory. An unknown land that could be bristling with Kobolds, Goblins or something even worse. However, it was the only port they could use. The Graterious and Kar Kingdom sea border had been defined by the giant near vertical mountain range. There appeared to be no way through the mountains nor anything that could even pass as a rocky beach, just sheer vertical mountains. To the south of Dragon Tooth Bay were open beaches. That would have been a better spot to land. But that lay south of the fifty-mile exclusion line from the old capital, Surdon. Why Nithroel had chosen such a distance was beyond him but that was what they had to work with. That left only one place to dock.

Anton nodded. “Yes. That is our destination, but be cautious. We don’t know what’s waiting for us.”

“You don’t even know where you’re going?” Wilford frowned angrily.

Anton kept his face flat. “Take us in and you’ll get your money. And your ship to do with as you wish, within reason.”

His tune change immediately. A captain wasn’t much without his ship. And all he had to do to get one was to do as he was told and keep his mouth shut.

Wilford nodded. “Understood.”

He bowed and left them alone. Kal immediately grew more and more excited. She rested her hands on the railing and calmed herself down.

“Not much longer now.” She said.

The ship slowly travelled parallel to the mountain range. Just as they were about to turn Anton smelt something odd on the wind. Kal picked it up as well, quickly followed by Verona and Cetina.

“Is that smoke?” Anton asked. He looked around the ship but couldn’t see any wisps of smoke rising up. That had been a constant worry during their trip but thankfully had been unfounded. For something like that to happen so close to their destination.

Verona nodded. “Yeah. Where…”

“Behind the mountain range.” Kal pointed into the sky. “You can just make out the trails against the clouds.”

Anton looked and saw the trail of smoke just starting to rise over the mountains. At first glance, the smoke was incredibly thin but the more he looked he realised there was more than a single trail, the amount of smoke was so great that it was difficult to differentiate against the clouds above them.

“Is anyone meant to be here?” Verona asked, holding his hand. “Everyone in the old Kingdom is supposed to be dead. Expect us…”

“Remember Nithroel said there were more people in the Kingdom than just us?” Verona slowly nodded. He doubted she wanted to remember much of her meeting with Jira and Nithroel. “If they were protected by the mountain walls, and the map shows there are some big mountains on the other side that might form a natural barrier, they might still have survived. Well, until now.”

Wilford approached, his eyes focused on the trails of smoke. “Are we still going in?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. We’ll be able to handle anything that comes at us.”

“U…Understood.” Wilford still didn’t look that happy but followed his word nonetheless.

The Snowberry passed the edge of the mountain range and entered Dragon Tooth Bay. The sheer grey mountains encompassed almost the entire of the interior of the bay except for two small gaps on the far side. However his elation at having returned to land quickly dissipated. The far side of the bay was burning. Anton used a prayer to improve his vision. A wooden settlement covered a large stretch of the far shoreline nestled between the two gaps in the mountain range. Nearly all of it was burning. Some of the buildings had completely burned down while others were only just starting to erupt in flames. Amongst the flames he could see things moving. Some were very short while others looked like humans. Verona grabbed his arm. When he looked at her the world spun and nearly caused him to vomit. Verona chuckled and pointed to the northernmost part of the bay. Giant purple crystals burst through the grey mountain range.

“Fuck. It’s that fucking crystal chasm,” Anton said. “We saw it heading towards the mountain range in the distance…”

“A what?” Cetina asked.

Anton removed the enchantment and the world returned to normal.

“On our way to Graterious, we passed over a giant crystal chasm.” Kal began to explain. “It was filled with Goblins-”

“And that purple fog,” Verona added. She nodded to the purple crystals. “I can see some from here.”

Kal nodded. “That too. We managed to cross a bridge, which Anton collapsed to stop a horde of Goblins from following us, and made it into Graterious. But…But it wasn’t there when I crossed that area not too long ago. So it’s very recent.”

“Have you heard about anything like that?” Anton asked Cetina.

Cetina shook her head and looked to the chasm. “No. No, I’ve never heard of anything like this. We had to deal with a few Goblins in Thessos but Clansmen were our main concern. But I’ve never even heard of something like that.”

“Maybe we should have asked those three mages if they’d heard of anything like this.” Anton mused. “Oh well, it wasn’t really something we were worried about then.”

We haven’t asked anyone back at Atros if they’d heard of something like this. Though that’d probably just be asking Bertram or Sybil.

“But.” Anton rest his hands on the wooden railing. “Looks like we’re going to have to deal with that thing again. At least the purple fog isn’t reaching the burning settlement.”

Anton didn’t think he, or Kal, had enough mana to give every Beast-kin immunity to the fog. If there were a few lingering strands he hoped they would be strong enough to get through it to the other side.

“Does anyone see a place where we can dock?” Cetina asked. “We can’t just have this ship beach on the shore and then just hop off.”

“I certainly hope we don’t have to.” Anton smiled at Cetina. “But I can see something that looks like a jetty.”

Anton patted Verona and Kal’s arm and strode towards Wilford. Wilford didn’t look that happy, neither did many of the sailors, but they held their faces firm, though they constantly watched him out of the corner of their eyes.

“Is this what you expected?” Wilford asked quietly. He stood to the side of the wheel while a sailor steered the ship to the shore. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t right.”

Anton looked to the burning village. He was sure he heard a scream over the crashing of the waves and groans of the ship.

“This isn’t what I expected either but take us in any way. Can you see a jetty or somewhere for us to dock?”

Wilford took out a small spyglass and looked to the burning settlement. “There’s a jetty, quite a large one, on the south and northern side. The north one looks like it’s burned down but the south looks to be okay…”

Wilford went silent and frowned. “What are Seocurian’s doing here?”

“What?”

Wilford handed Anton the small spyglass. “Really. I don’t think it’s hard to tell if it’s a Seocurian or not.”

Anton looked through the spyglass. It was nowhere near as good as his prayer enhancement but it was good enough to make out human figures running to the south away from the burning village. All had dark hair and very dark skin, incredibly dark.

But, why where they here?

“Interesting.” Anton passed the spyglass back to Wilford. “We’ll find out what’s going on in just a bit.”

Wilford nodded as Anton returned to the front of the ship. Verona twirled a small dagger in her hand, the tip spinning on her finger.

“Better safe than sorry.” Verona smiled.

Anton held out his hand for Verona to take some blood. Cetina watched in silence while Kal directed her attention back to the burning village.

“This’ll be the first time we’ve had a real fight since...” Verona glanced at Cetina. “For a while.”

“Thank the gods we didn’t have to fight that Griffon,” Anton said. He looked to Cetina. “Will you be alright fighting here? We don’t know what we’ll be up against.”

Cetina nodded. “I’ll be alright. If what you’ve said is right it’ll just be Goblins. That isn’t too much of a problem. I’ll need to put on all my armour though.”

“I need to get my bow as well,” Kal said. “I don’t want to be fighting them up close. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“We’d better get everything else ready too,” Verona added, turning away from the burning village. “And everyone. We might not have long once we dock.”

“Especially if they try and swarm the boat.”

Verona nodded and gently pulled him along. They quickly reached their rooms and took every weapon they needed. Luna, sleeping on her small bed, squeaked excitedly as they entered. Each gave her a pat before gathering their gear. There wasn’t much for each to get, they wore their armour most of the time, and were soon ready.

“I don’t think we should take Luna with us just yet.” Anton scratched behind her ears. “Just in case something goes wrong. I don’t think she can swim.”

“I can’t swim.” Kal chuckled as she checked the string of her bow. “Never had much of a chance before.”

“But you could swim in the bath.” Anton smiled.

Kal flushed slightly as she remembered their time in Porswea. Her hand fidgeted with her ring. “Yes…Yes, I did. But nothing like the ocean. Unlike Verona, I could actually touch the bottom of the bath.”

Verona stuck out her tongue and pouted cutely.

“We need to look into getting one of those for our house,” Anton said. “I really liked that bath. So much better than a bucket with a towel. It felt so good to just soak and relax in some hot water. All the stress just washing away. Though having two beautiful women to share it with also helps.”

Verona laughed. “That was one of the best…We really need to get one. Though our house might be a little small with everything that’s about to happen. We’ll need more room for the bath, that comfy bed…a few other things, and somewhere for Luna to sleep and live. I’d really like our garden to always be a garden and not some sort of pen for her.”

Anton nodded. “Once we get the Beast-kin back we’ll have a look at that. See if the houses around us are free. If not, we’ll have to get Zac to make us a new one.”

“Our bed isn’t that bad,” Kal said as she fastened the bow to her back. “I didn’t have any problem with it. It seems fine.”

“But which would you prefer?” Verona smiled.

Kal hesitated. “Probably the bed from Porswea. What about you, Anton?”

Anton shrugged. “Truth be told I liked having you both underneath the stars. Something about holding you both, wrapped up in a soft blanket with a fire crackling away beside us…”

Verona and Kal chuckled.

“That was nice,” Verona said. “And a little different. Not that different is bad.”

“I think there’s a name for people that enjoy doing that sort of stuff,” Kal said very softly. Anton remembered that she had once stolen clothes from an establishment that catered to all sorts of strange whims.

“But I would prefer that good bed. While I’d love to re-enact those nights right now we’ve got more pressing matters…” Anton frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Verona looked far more worried than he was.

“We’re about to have several hundred people with us.” Anton smiled. “There’s not going to be a lot of time to ourselves.”

“Oh…”

“And everyone’s going to want to talk and thank you,” Kal added. “Every time I went down to speak with mother they always wanted to stop me and ask about you. It got a little annoying after the tenth time.”

“Never my intention.” Anton threw up his hands. “But we should really get going.”

Both nodded furiously. They gave Luna another rub before leaving their room.

“We’ll come back for our other gear.” Anton looked along the abandoned corridor. “Did either of you hear if Cetina has already gone through?”

“One way to find out.”

Verona knocked on the door. “You there, Cetina?”

“Yeah.” Cetina’s voice sounded a little strained. “I’m just having a bit of trouble getting my armour on. Something’s gone wrong with my chest armour. One of the straps…”

“You want a hand?”

There was a pause before the door opened. Cetina emerged with her chest armour half fastened and her limb guards hanging loose.

“Yes. Yes please.” Cetina pulled at her chest armour. “One of the straps has twisted and I can’t get it fixed with the rest on. But I don’t want to undo the others.”

“Right-o.” Verona smiled. “Let me have a go then.”

Verona opened the door and entered her room. It was quite clean and tidy, something Anton expected from a soldier. All her belongings, not that she had much, were bundled into a small pack, one with a shock and blue skin changing protection prayer cast over it that would only open for Cetina. They couldn’t open it, unless he removed the magic first. However, there was a small empty flask sitting by her bed. One with a faint red stain near the opened lip. Cetina saw him looking and winced. Anton peered into the room and couldn’t see any more.

“It’s just the one.” Cetina looked away in shame.

Anton nodded as Verona started to unfasten the clips on Cetina’s side. Cetina didn’t need to be patronised or demeaned for having a single drink. He made a note to keep an eye on it for later.

“No.” Verona shook her head and passed her spear to Anton. “One of them has got really twisted right at the base. How did you manage to do that?…I’ll need to get under there to fix it.”

Cetina nodded and opened her armour as much as she could. Verona grunted as her hand travelled over the inside of her armour and brushed against her plain yellow shirt.

Verona chuckled and smiled at Cetina.

“What?” Cetina frowned as Verona tugged hard on her armour.

Verona chuckled again. “Not bad. Not bad. You…You might want to get some real padding under there.” Cetina flushed slightly. “Those aren’t meant to work like that.”

“What?”

Cetina frowned at Verona then looked to Anton and Kal. Anton hadn’t been looking but her shirt was rather tight across her chest. And she didn’t seem to be wearing a bra of any kind. As he didn’t want another hard punch on his side he looked away while Kal looked at him, her face blank. He could see her hand twitching and reach for his side when Verona cried out in success.

“Right. Got the little guy.” Verona smiled as she pulled the chest piece closed. “Can you guys help out on the other side?”

Anton went for Cetina’s legs while Kal worked on the other side of the armour. They quickly had all her armour fastened tight. Cetina took a step back and pulled on her armour pieces, nodding in approval.

“Thanks...” Cetina glanced at Verona, frowned again, and picked up her sword and shield. She bounced the shield and gave a final nod. “Alright. I’m ready to go.”

Cetina moved past them and began walking up the stairs to the upper levels. Anton looked to Verona but he received a wide smile and thumbs up. Verona chuckled and slapped his back. Her smile elicited a strange feeling.

“She’s just being herself.” Anton and Kal said in unison.

Kal laughed, lowered her mask and took his hand. She squeezed it tight and led him back to the prow. Cetina still looked oddly at Verona but Verona paid her no mind. She looked forward towards the burning settlement. Soon they would reach the large southern jetty. Now he could see the people and goblins running about. The Goblins were torching the buildings and attacking the Seocurian villagers while they fought back in tight groups with strangely hooked spears and other long implements. Thankfully the Goblins seemed more than content to slowly advance while burning down the village. Anton saw a group of Seocurians point to their ship, their body language spoke of utter bewilderment. Another surge from the Goblins quickly crushed such thoughts as they desperately fought them off.

“What’s the plan then?” Verona asked. “Kill all the Goblins and figure it out from there?”

Anton nodded. “Yep. I’ll start attacking with lightning the moment we get in range. Hopefully, that’ll distract or frighten them long enough for the villagers to get somewhere safe. Hopefully.”

Kal nocked a normal arrow while Verona activated her power. Her red glow caught the attention of the crew, many whispering and turning still from shock. The crystallised blood hovered around her head, ready to strike with a simple thought. Cetina drew her sword but frowned at the dent on her tower shield. While the shield still functioned nearly perfectly the dent was a reminder of her eye injury. When they were safe in Atros he would find a way around that.

Everyone aboard the ship was utterly silent as they reached the wooden jetty. The wood was old, bleached and damaged by unending sprays of salt but still looked strong. When they began to slow the Goblins stopped and looked towards them, their ears drooping and cocking their heads to the side. Goblins had poor eyesight but no one could miss something that big. They abandoned the assault on the villagers, who took the opportunity to retreat deeper into the village, and began charging along the wooden jetty.

The sailors threw a wooden plank down to the jetty. The Goblins hesitated for a moment before continuing their charge. Verona ran down the plank and threw her crystallised blood. The Goblins didn’t stand a chance. Their bloody chunks fell into the water, the water turning red with blood, as Verona stopped parallel to the prow of the ship and continued to attack. Within a minute all the Goblins were dead or fleeing. Kal loosed her arrow into one of the few remaining Goblins while Anton fired a few lightning bolts. The water became turbulent as the bodies tumbled into the water fish and other small creatures began to feast.

Anton followed closely behind by Cetina and Kal, walked down to the jetty. Verona took up more blood and smiled as he approached. Cetina moved in front of Anton and drew her sword.

“How far are we going?” Verona asked.

“There’s still Goblins inside the village,” Kal said, nocking a lightning arrow. “I don’t want to risk a Goblin lunging at us after all this.”

“No…Not after all this.” Anton looked at the end of the jetty and saw more Goblins approaching. He loosed a lightning bolt and killed the group. “We’ll head to the end of the jetty and lure out every Goblin we can. Then let the Beast-kin out and have them take up some of their weapons. Better to have something rather than nothing.”

Kal looked towards him.

“They need to be ready to fight to defend themselves. Just like us.”

“A lot of them seem pretty strong on their own,” Verona said. “Like those two that we bought alongside your mother.”

“I’m sure Kristof or Rasha could just smash a Goblin flat with their hooves.” Anton looked at the ship. “Or just punch them in two. If things get bad we might need a few of the stronger ones to help out. But only if they agree.”

“Kristof managed to break the iron links and Rasha almost managed to rip hers free,” Cetina grumbled.

“True. But they’ve been quite nice after that.”

“Only because they thought you might throw them overboard,” Cetina said. “That kept them from misbehaving. After they tried to kill you. If they’d got free I’m sure they would have tried.”

Cetina’s tone had taken quite a change. He couldn’t quite name what it was but she wasn’t happy with some of the Beast-kin. More of an issue with individuals than with their whole kind. Verona threw up a silver brow at Anton, her red glowing eyes looking deep into his. Anton shrugged and motioned for them to advance. Goblins began to pour out of the village towards them, attracted by the sounds of lightning. Several hundred lay dead by Verona’s magic before they reached the end of the jetty, the bodies had to be pushed into the water so they didn’t trip, but no more were willing to attack. Over the roar of the burning buildings he could hear Goblins chittering. Where the Seocurian villagers had gone he had no idea, but no more Goblins were willing to attack them.

“Cetina? Could you make some noise with your shield? See if that gets their attention.”

Cetina struck the flat edge of her sword on her shield. The clanging rang throughout the air. Two small groups of Goblins, lured by the noise, were quickly dispatched by Verona’s magic. Cetina made another clanging on her shield but nothing came forward. There wasn’t any more noise coming from the village apart from the roar of the flames.

“Hello?!” Anton yelled into the village. “Is anyone there?”

He waited for some time but nothing came back.

“Hello?” Anton yelled again.

Again there was nothing.

“Are they all dead?” Verona asked. “I know I saw a whole bunch running away. So some should still be alive.”

“We saw them heading to the south.” Anton gently pushed them forward. “We’ll stay together and try and find them before we go any further. I don’t want to have a couple hundred Beast-kin and supplies just dumped here.”

Kal nodded the hardest as they slowly advanced to the south. Cetina, the most heavily armoured, stood between them and the buildings. She kept them as far away as possible from the buildings, as did Kal, so nothing could jump out at them. They passed building after building with their windows closed and fastened shut. This Goblin attack wasn’t something that had descended without warning.

“Anything?” Anton asked as they neared the last few buildings.

“I thought I heard something,” Kal whispered back. “Maybe a baby’s cry. I’m not sure.”

“Might want to take down the blood,” Anton said. “Just in case. So they aren’t freaked out.”

Verona nodded and withdrew her blood and power. She held her spear tight, now the only thing she had to defend herself with.

Kal moved past the last corner and motioned to stop. Anton moved behind her and peered around. Huddled in a large group, backed against the last building in the settlement, stood almost two hundred terrified Seocurians. They looked nothing like those from the empire; these wore simple and worn peasant clothes, dirty and slightly haggard. The class of people they saw in Danafra might not be the case throughout the empire. An outer perimeter of men, and a few women, armed with hooked spears, ploughs and forks, looked towards them. They looked worse than the others, covered in wounds and grime, and their hands shook with a dangerous mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline. For a moment their faces couldn’t believe what they were seeing. It quickly changed to relief and elation. Some even started to cry.

“Thank you!” a woman, cradling two children, in the centre of the huddle cried out. “Thank you that you’ve come.”

“Hush.” Someone snapped at her. “We don’t know who they are. We don’t know if there are more Goblins. And there’s just four of them.”

Anton waved at the Seocurian villagers. They appeared to relax a little but kept their weapons raised. “Hello. My name is Anton. The Goblins are dead but there might still be some lingering about. How many people do you think are still left in the village?”

They appeared hesitant to respond. Verona looked at him and shrugged.

“Try again.” She whispered.

“Most of the Goblins are dead and other people could be injured or dying. Can you speak?” Anton asked. “Can you understand me?”

An older man, his hair grey and back stooped, pushed his way through. “Hello, strangers. We can speak, though some of us are more frightened than others.” The way he spoke, and the way a faint and awkward smile crept up his face, reminded him of a Seocurian Bertram. “Who are you and why are you here?”

The older man appeared to be more mentally together compared to his fellows.

“That…Will take some time to explain.”

“Are you from the ship?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. But I’ll tell you right now that we didn’t come to rescue you. Nonetheless, we are going to help. So, how many more people are left in the village?”

“There should be seven hundred people in the village.” The old man looked those around him. “But I don’t think even half of us are left.”

At least we know where the other survivors of the kingdom were. Shame we didn’t get to them sooner.

“But there might be some still hiding.”

“We’ll come with you through the middle of the village and see who we can find,” Anton said. He motioned for the girls to advance. “Though you might be a little surprised by what we can do.”

“You were the ones that killed the Goblins. I don’t think we really have much choice.”

As Anton approached the Seocurian villagers they tensed even more. Some stepped back and all always kept their hooked spears pointed towards them.

“If you, and some of your best men, come with us we can find any survivors,” Anton said. “A lot faster than if we just do it.”

He knew he was acting a bit like a lord, commanding people he had just met, but he didn’t want to waste more time talking. Once they started to offload the Beast-kin there would be time. Though that alone would make more problems for all involved.

The old man nodded and pointed to a dozen of the stronger villagers. They were more than a little hesitant as they slowly advanced towards the still burning village.

“Is it just the four of you?” The old man asked.

He couldn’t move very quickly but did his best. Anton motioned for the girls to stay close near the back. Just in case.

“For now, yes,” Anton replied. “When we came into the bay we saw your village on fire and decided to help.”

“We…We are extremely grateful for your help.” The old man bowed his head. He looked between the girls, frowning for a second at Verona’s silver hair, but didn’t make an issue of it. “My name is Ndale. And I’m the village chief and elder…” A frown formed on his wrinkled dark skin. “Only because I’m the oldest. I don’t know if I’m actually all that good.”

He motioned to the burning and ruined buildings, the great plumes of smoke rising into the sky, and sighed, dropping his hands to his side. The Seocurian villagers started their search through the village, knocking on doors and shouting for survivors. A few times they heard noises from inside. Weary, terrified and dirty faces emerged. Men and women, of all ages, hesitantly emerged. The Seocurian villagers waved them out and sent them to the others in the south. As they passed they looked oddly but none were brave enough to ask.

Anton looked at Verona and Kal. “Keep your eyes out. I just want to ask a few questions.”

Kal nodded and nocked a normal arrow. Ndale heard and looked back. Upon seeing Kal with the bow he still wasn’t overly relieved. He, like everyone else, didn’t know what to make of Kal’s mask, but his face softened when Anton looked down at him.

“Ndale. Can I ask you a few questions?”

Ndale nodded as another group of rescued villagers ran past to the south. “I’ll answer to the best of my ability. I have no reason to deny the questions of those that saved us.”

“I thought the entire Kar Kingdom was supposed to be dead. Nothing more than ruins, beasts and monsters.” Anton nodded to a dead Goblin, one previously killed by the villagers. “So how are you still here?”

Ndale took a deep breath. “Our ancestors, several generations ago, came here from Seocuria. We aren’t natives to the Kar Kingdom. Our skin is too dark, you see.”

Anton looked forward as a Goblin ran towards the north. The villagers were about to give chase when Kal loosed an arrow. It whizzed past their heads and struck the Goblin in the back, felling it instantly. The villagers looked back and gave a cursory nod.

“I’ve only seen people from Graterious and Seocuria,” Anton said. “I haven’t seen someone from the Kar Kingdom before.”

Ndale nodded. “Well, yes. The people of the Kar Kingdom have skin more like…your silver haired friend. Very light. Anyway, they took our ancestors in when they fled the Empire and allowed them to settle here. We would manage the port and the fisheries and they would let us stay and give us protection from the Empire.”

“Sounds odd.” Verona looked to Ndale. “That a different Kingdom would just let you in like that.”

“They were having problems at the time. It was a few winters before the collapse started, maybe thirty or forty, and they needed to keep this bay open but didn’t have the soldiers or people left to do it. Everything was starting to collapse in on itself. So when we turned up they were more than willing to let us stay. Free labour…” Ndale’s face darkened slightly.

“But why did you leave the Empire in the first place?”

Ndale took a deep breath. “My…Our ancestors didn’t agree with what the Seocurian Empire was doing to their Beast-kin slaves.” Kal stopped and looked at him. “I’ve never met a Beast-kin but the stories say they were treated extremely badly. So badly that some spoke out about it.”

“That didn’t end well, did it?” Anton asked. “Not when their whole economy relies on slaves.”

“No. Most were killed, their lands seized. Those that survived went quiet and those that could flee, did. They ended up here and we’ve been here ever since.”

“The village looked quite large when we came into the bay. More than large enough for seven hundred people.”

“Yes. We had about three or four thousand people once.” Ndale nodded to the purple crystals jutting over the edge of the mountain. “But those emerged at the end of spring. And Goblins have been pouring out of there ever since.”

“Why weren’t you over-run before?” Cetina asked. She looked to the mountains to the west. “If the lands beyond are full of Goblins and other things…”

Anton got the feeling the question was more directed at him rather than Ndale.

“We’re not sure. There are only two ways through the mountains. We keep an eye on them but nothing more than a few weak and sickly Green Goblins ever come through. Sometimes there are whole seasons without a single Goblin. Not now though.”

Cetina nodded and glanced at Anton.

“More of them!”

A small group of Yellow Goblins, with Greens in tow, ran down the centre of the village. The villagers formed a rudimentary line, their weapons raised to fight but they were clearly terrified. Anton would have been too. Fighting something like that up close, with just a wonky spear without any armour, was not something he enjoyed. He patted Verona’s shoulder and moved forward. The villagers parted for him, thinking he was going to fight alongside them. Instead, he raised his hand and unleashed a small volley of lightning bombs. The explosions tore through the unarmoured Goblins and broke their lines. Anton threw a few lightning bolts after the escapees. The Seocurian villagers stepped away, afraid of the power that he contained, but Anton simply smiled and returned to Ndale and the girls. Ndale’s eyes bludged from his sockets.

Verona laughed at his reaction. “We get that a lot.”

Ndale shook his head. “That…I can see why the Goblins weren’t a threat for you. But…Please give me a moment.”

He took a deep breath, scrunched and rubbed his eyes.

“Okay.”

A door from several houses ahead opened. Twenty battered and terrified Seocurian’s emerged, half held spears while the others held children and babies in their arms.

“Ndale!” One yelled. “What’s happening? Are the Goblins still out there?”

Ndale looked at Anton. “They are being dealt with. Head to the south and you’ll find the others. They’ll look after you. Everyone with a weapon needs to stay with us.”

A few of the armed Seocurian villagers traded words before they separated.

“How much more of the village do we have to check?”

“To the halfway marker.” Ndale waved the villagers forward. “I say marker, it’s a small monument from the old Kar Kingdom. Near the end, they liked making lots of these things. Everything beyond that’s burned down and abandoned.”

They continued in relative silence through the village with only the shouts of the villagers cutting through the crackling of the flames. About seventy more villagers were found, far more than Anton expected, and more groups of wandering Goblins. Anton dealt with them each time. He didn’t know how they would react to Verona’s power, though she was starting to pout near the end, like she thought he was coddling her.

The monument was a small stone obelisk three meters tall. It appeared the Seocurian villagers used this as some sort of gathering point. Racks of drying fish, large baskets of salt and strange fruits filled the small space around the obelisk. Many had been broken by the rampaging Goblins.

Once the Obelisk held an inscription but it had long been lost. Not to time but to vandalism. Large scratch marks covered the words and completely erased whatever it originally said. If Ndale was correct it was probably a message of glorification of the old Kar Kingdom.

“Such a mess,” Ndale muttered as they approached the Obelisk.

While the villagers started to fiddle and pick up the damaged goods Anton approached the Obelisk. Verona moved next to him and ran her hand over the stone.

“Any idea what it is?”

“Just a monument like Ndale said.” He replied. “Though I wonder why they removed the words.”

“If it wasn’t a problem why not just leave it?” Kal added.

“Exactly. Though…It could just be children with too much time on their hands. Or perhaps someone’s that’s drunk.”

Cetina shuffled and looked away.

Anton placed his hand on the monument and quietly chanted a prayer to restore the writing. It took some mana but the stone began to groan and shift underneath his hands. When he withdrew his hand the writing had been restored. However, it was just what he thought.

“In the twelfth winter of the reign of King Robert Kar the Third, Duke Moshe Lucas of the Gela Estate, slew the White Dragon, scourge of the Kar Kingdom,” Anton shrugged. “Knighted as the Protector of the Realm.”

“That’s what this thing says?” Verona asked, shaking her head. Kal nodded while Cetina could only shrug. “Why go through all that effort to put that here?”

“To satisfy someone’s ego?” Kal offered. “I don’t understand it either, but maybe he wanted to show off.”

“Seems like a lot of effort just to compensate for someone’s ego,” Anton grumbled.

Kal almost chuckled while Verona shook her head.

“Well, it is the right shape I suppose. And out of the way enough...” Verona chuckled. “Whatever. What happens now?”

“Is that your ship?” A villager asked.

From their current position they could see along the jetty towards The Snowberry. Anton saw Wilford and the other sailors looking pensively towards them. If anything they looked like they wanted to cast off right away, but they didn’t want to deal with several hundred Beast-kin below. Some of which were free to roam about the bottom levels of the ship.

“It is,” Anton said. “But we didn’t come here to rescue you. We came here to offload something. Quite a few somethings, and then travel further inland.”

“What?” Ndale couldn’t believe his ears. Neither would Anton if he was honest.

“We…We are transporting Beast-kin.” Anton said. “Not slaves, but free Beast-kin.”

“What?” Ndale and the Seocurian villagers were stunned. Too many things were happening to them right now. Their brains just shut down.

“They’re friendly. But some might be more than a little shocked to Seocurians here. I ask that you don’t do anything aggressive towards them. It’ll take nearly every ounce of their strength just to hold themselves back and they don’t need anything to aggravate them.”

“You surely have a plan to deal with so many Beast-kin…”

“We have a plan.” Anton smiled, not that Ndale was reassured. “But we need to start offloading right away. And with your village almost secured…”

“I cannot stop you.” Ndale looked at the broken remains of his village. “But where are you going? Are you going beyond the mountain?”

Anton nodded. “We are. But we can take care of ourselves.”

“Well…Thank you for saving us from the Goblins. I don’t want to think what those horrible things would have done to us.”

“It’s not a problem. We’ve seen what those things do.”

A knowing silence filled the air. Anton’s anger at the creatures only grew. When Atros had enough strength they would purge them from the lands at every possible opportunity. Nobody deserved to have their lives torn apart by such wretched little creatures.

“I don’t know if there’s any more Goblins about to attack but you should head back to the others.” Anton began. “See what you can do to help them. Once we’re done we’ll see about helping you whatever way we can.”

“Thank you.” Ndale bowed his head. “Thank you for everything you’ve given us.”

He and the other villagers quickly scurried off, always looking towards the north and purple crystals protruding from the mountain. Anton nodded towards the ship.

“They can’t stay here.” Anton began as they reached the edge of the jetty. “Maybe another day if they’re lucky. And I think they know it.”

“They’re lucky they even made it this long,” Kal added. She looked to the mountain in the north. “But not tonight. Do you think they’re ready to live beyond the mountain, Anton?”

“What are you two talking about?” Verona asked with a frown. “They’ve done alright…Better than we did at any rate. The Goblins are dead and, with a little help, I’m sure they’ll be able to defend themselves. Just like we were, without having a Grand Mage on our side.”

Anton smiled awkwardly and held Verona’s side. She looked confused when he turned her towards the purple crystals in the distance. While neither had an eye enhancement it was clear that more Goblins were slowly trickling through the chasm. They spread out with no clear direction in mind but eventually some would start wandering towards them.

“Oh,” Verona frowned. “Oh, I see.”

“And I don’t know if we can close it.”

“Your magic’s really strong though,” Cetina said quietly.

“I suppose so.” Anton patted Verona’s shoulders and continued moving towards the ship. “But I don’t know what would happen if I did use my magic. I could collapse the entire mountain. Or worse, I might close that part and just draw every Goblin in that chasm right on top of us. And then we’ll all be screwed, especially since I won’t have that much magic left.”

Cetina nodded. “So what happens to them now?”

“Well, it’s really up to them. It is their choice but I don’t think they have much of one. We may want to take them with us if we can.” Anton looked at Kal. “I know that it might be a problem but I don’t want to just leave people to such a terrible fate.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to help them?” Kal asked with a curious tone, cocking her head.

“They do look like the Seocurian’s of the Empire. I-”

“I’m not that stupid,” Kal said adamantly. “I can tell if they’re a slaver, and I don’t need to look at the colour of their skin to figure that out.”

“Some of the other Beast-kin might have a problem with that though,” Anton said quietly. He nodded to the ship. “They have been beaten and abused by people that look like that nearly every day of their lives. I don’t know how they’ll react when they see them travelling with us. Even if they are just fishermen.”

Kal stopped. She looked at the wooden pier, everything was silent apart from the light splashing of the water. Slowly she nodded.

“I understand what you’re saying. But that’s their problem to bear. I know it’s going to be tough for them but they need to work it out for themselves. We...We may need to stop some fights that might break out.”

“Like if Rasha and Kristof try anything?” Anton smiled.

Verona laughed. “Oh yeah. Those two would be able to break fifty people before someone stopped them. Not to mention your old friends could be pretty dangerous too. I don’t want to fight a Drakeling or a Cobra if I’m honest.”

“Or any of the bigger ones,” Cetina added.

“I’ll talk with Marion and see what she can do…” Kal sighed. “Though she might be the most difficult of all. Since, you know.”

Anton took and held Kal’s hand as they approached The Snowberry. The sailors looked relieved to see them return, one even started to untie some ropes but was stopped by his fellows. Wilford met them at the top of the plank.

“We heard more lightning. Is everything alright?”

“For now it is,” Anton replied. “But there’s more Goblins coming from the purple chasm up there. But we won’t be staying here long. Start offloading all the Beast-kin and our materials and supplies. Once we are all safely on land you are to head back to Rusaddir and do not speak a word about what happened here. Understood?”

“Perfectly. Don’t say anything and money will keep coming. Speaking of...”

“I’ll get the rest of your money now. Do you have the pen and paper that I gave you?”

“Yes...I’m not going to get into trouble for having something like that, am I? The Church of the Holy Father doesn’t like any of that stuff.”

“Only if you get caught. So just keep it somewhere safe and try not to draw too much attention to yourselves. That means you really shouldn’t be spending it up. You should try and repay those nobles first, right?”

Wilford slowly nodded. He seemed disappointed Anton hadn’t forgotten about his little problem.

“We’ll get them up here and out the ship. Don’t forget your stuff either.” Wilford signalled to some nearby sailors. “Once we set sail we won’t be turning back. Something about this place doesn’t seem right.”

Anton looked at the purple crystals jutting from the grey mountains. “I wonder what that could be.”

---[]---

“Come on everyone,” Marion shouted over the rumble of the moving Beast-kin from the bottom of the ramp. “We need to keep moving.”

Marion, alongside Kristof, Rasha, Eider, Irso and Ulyaa, tried their best to keep the Beast-kin slaves moving out of The Snowberry and to the shoreline. Rasha and Kristof, two of the larger Beast-kin, stood at the front of the queue. Both wielded a simple large wooden stick as a weapon. Their strength alone made it a dangerous weapon. And even if it broke they could simply kick or punch their way through a small horde of Goblins. Each Beast-kin held as much as they could carry of their supplies and equipment. Anton didn’t like using them as carriers but thankfully they didn’t complain. If anything they looked used to it.

The human sailors watched the spectacle in silence with a mixture of awe and fear. Despite every Beast-kin free of their shackles none attacked. They kept their distance though, with their hands over their weapons, just in case. Verona and Kal walked with Rasha and Kristof at the front of the Beast-kin column while Anton and Cetina waited on the ship with their horses. Their horses were grateful to be outside and able to move once again. Especially Cetina’s horse. It was almost scowling at her but nonetheless happy to be free. Luna, as before, was nestled in her special pack and peered out at the world beyond. She seemed quite excited, especially when Anton scratched her behind her ears.

“That’s basically everything,” Wilford said as the last Beast-kin walked past. “We’ve got enough supplies to make it to the next port. We can’t spare any more.”

“That’s fine,” Anton replied. “We’ll find our own out there. We’ve got maps for water and we can hunt for food.”

“I don’t know how to butcher an animal but I’ll help whatever way I can,” Cetina added.

“Thanks.” Anton turned to Wilford. “But we’ll be fine.”

Anton handed over the remaining gold coins and a few extra for good measure. Wilford’s eyes widened in surprise and elation at the sight.

“Don’t spend them all at once.” Anton smiled as they led the horses down the ramp. “We’ll be in contact soon. Good luck.”

The horses nervously traversed down the wooden plank down to the jetty. Marion turned as she patted the shoulders of the last Beast-kin that passed.

“Anton.” Her clawed hands scratched nervously at her hips. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? That you can actually get us through those lands to this Atros place that my daughter keeps talking about?”

“Absolutely.” Anton motioned for her to follow the Beast-kin convoy. “We simply head through the mountain pass and head back towards the road that we followed to Graterious. Hopefully there won’t be much to fight. But just the four of us is more than strong enough to deal with just about anything that comes our way.”

“Even a hundred Goblins?”

Anton chuckled. “I’m sure Cetina could deal with that with her eye closed. But a few thousand wouldn’t be a problem for us.”

“I don’t want Kal to be fighting.” Marion frowned, her furred face casting odd shadows.

“She fights from the rear, so she’s as safe as she possibly can be,” Anton replied. It didn’t help assuage Marion’s concerns. “But I do everything I can to make sure she’s safe.”

“I spoke with her but she won’t give it up.”

“No...And I’m not going to tell her that either.” Anton said. “She’s a grown woman and mature enough to make her own decisions. And no one has the right to tell her what to do. Not even her husband.”

Marion looked deep into his eyes. Her own looked nearly identical to Kal’s, perhaps a little darker with small flecks of black throughout the bright green, alongside the searching look. Finally, she nodded and took a breath of resignation.

“I understand…But I just want her to be safe. I don’t think I could live with myself if, after all this time thinking that she was dead, something were to happen to her.”

“Nothing will.” Anton patted her shoulder. The rough cloth bounced under his touch, her short green fur bounced just like Kal’s. He didn’t want to tell her about Zig and the wolf’s tooth. He wondered if Kal had told her about those things yet.

Rasha and Kristof yelled as the leading edge of the Beast-kin column reached the end of the jetty and solid ground. Everyone was to be glad to be touching solid ground again. Verona and Kal ran in front of them and towards the southern end of the village, where the Seocurian villagers would be waiting.

“Marion. How do you think they’ll react to seeing the Seocurian’s here?”

Marion scrunched her face. She, like the other Beast-kin, had been shocked when Anton told them what they had found waiting for them in Dragon Tooth Bay. The immediate thought was this was some elaborate trap but they realised that would be too much effort even for the most elaborate scheme with no real payoff. Anton’s story didn’t help convince them but they agreed to try and keep the Beast-kin from doing something stupid and lashing out. A few strikes from someone Rasha or Kristof would keep anyone under control.

“Hopefully, with Kristof and Rasha there, and Kal, they’ll be able to keep control. Eider, Irso and Ulyaa should be enough to keep everyone else moving.” Marion winced. “But I don’t know what I’ll do when I see them. I’ve spent every day…”

Anton nodded. It would be incredibly difficult, perhaps truly impossible, to push such thoughts and ingrained feelings from their mind with a snap of their fingers. Nonetheless, it was heartening to see they were at least going to try and not give into hatred.

“I hope the other Beast-kin can keep under control too. I get the feeling that we might be travelling with them for the next little while.”

Marion frowned but Anton pointed to the purple crystals in the distance. Marion had the same eyes and sense of sight that Kal had, she could see the Goblins continue to pour out of the chasm.

“Oh.”

The first Beast-kin reached the south of the village just as they reached the end of the jetty. Anton saw Rasha and Kristof’s forms move between the Beast-kin and the Seocurian villagers huddling near the last few buildings. Anton motioned for Cetina to follow him. They both mounted their horses and rode to the front, leaving Marion alone at the rear. They passed Eider, Irso and Ulyaa, each who were trying their best to keep the Beast-kin moving and in a rough line. Anton said his thanks as they passed.

When they arrived at the front the Beast-kin were utterly shocked and confused. Rasha and Kristof were holding the Beast-kin back as they snarled at the scared Seocurian villagers. The villagers had remained in their tight group and held their weapons towards the Beast-kin. They seemed more terrified of the Beast-kin than the Goblins. Verona spoke with the villagers and tried her best to placate them while Kal was helped Rasha and Kristof do the same. The sound of the approaching horses, especially Cetina’s warhorse, calmed everyone down.

“Calm down, everyone,” Anton said as he dismounted. It appeared to work a little bit for the Beast-kin but they were still incredibly scared and angry. “I just want you all to take a deep breath before you say or do anything.”

“What are they doing here?” A Beast-kin asked, rather, demanded.

“She’s got a point.” Rasha said to Anton. “One I want to know too. Especially after you said that we would be free of them.”

She held the wooden beam in her large hands ready to strike the Beast-kin. He doubted that she would try and attack either side but she looked the part, especially someone that’s nearly three meters tall and who’s arms where thicker than Anton’s waist.

“Do you doubt me?”

Rasha shook her head. “No. I have no reason to doubt you. But I’m just a little surprised. It all sounds a little fanciful.”

“I bet. Can you keep them moving?”

“Where?” Rasha looked around. “I can’t see anywhere we can just stop.”

“I’ll go ahead and see what I can find.” Cetina lightly kicked the side of her horse. “There’ll be somewhere just before the mountain that we can stop and get organised.”

“Could you please do that Cetina? And Rasha, can you keep the Beast-kin moving? It’s not doing anyone any good having them here.”

Cetina kicked the side of her horse again and rode towards the mountains. She glanced at Rasha once before pushing through the Beast-kin. Rasha nodded and strode through the Beast-kin after her. They parted for her, more than just her being large and wielding a large stick, a sense of fear remained in their eyes, and she started directing them towards the mountains. They glanced worryingly at the Seocurian’s before moving on. Kristof, holding the wooden stick tight in his large hands, stepped back and kept the Beast-kin from spilling out or moving towards the Seocurian villagers.

“Anton.” Kristof turned his head slightly towards Anton. “What’s happening with them?”

“Right now I’m not sure. But just keep the Beast-kin moving for now. When Marion gets here we’ll have a chat about what’s going to happen next.”

Kal moved away from the slowly passing column of Beast-kin and stopped by his side. She didn’t say anything and simply held his hand. It wasn’t tight, out of fear or desperation, but out of warmth and a need for contact. It wouldn’t be long before she would be free to take off her mask. If any Beast-kin had a problem with her they would deal with that then.

Eider, Irso and Ulyaa passed alongside the rest of the Beast-kin. Anton smiled and waved them on. They, at first, smiled, but he could feel the anger boiling up from within the moment they saw the Seocurian villagers. Even with a warning it wasn’t enough to completely control their emotions. Eider hissed as she saw the Seocurians and Irso’s claws and spines flexed in readiness to strike. Thankfully they kept themselves under control and continued moving.

Finally the last of the Beast-kin passed. Kristof caught Marion’s attention and she parted from the rear of the group. She told them to keep going and she’d join them later. She took a deep breath as she approached, keeping the still terrified Seocurian villagers in her line of sight.

“So…” Marion glanced at Kal. “What happens now?”

“Since you are, effectively, the representative of the Beast-kin slaves, I wanted to bring you into the discussion on what we’re going to do with them.”

“I know, from what my daughter’s told me about you, that you aren’t going to kill them.” Marion looked at the villagers tattered and salt-stained clothes. “I know they aren’t the Seocurian slavers but…Anyway, why me? I’m just an old woman.”

Kal patted her mother’s arm. Marion smiled and squeezed her daughter’s hand.

“To be fair to Marion.” Verona slunk up to Anton and took his other arm. “You made sure that everyone on the council has their positions because they were your friends.”

“I didn’t…” Anton squeezed Verona’s side. “It was because they were the best people for the job…Though I think they just told everyone what they would be doing and they just said yes. Hmm…”

“Either that or potentially upset a guy that could obliterate a city with a snap of his fingers with another powerful mage hanging off his side.”

Anton chuckled. The thought that his current position was only based on his powerful magic had turned up more than once. Though he wasn’t abusing it. At least he thought he wasn’t.

“True. But I think that Marion’s a good choice for a Beast-kin representative.” Marion threw up a dark green brow on her fur covered face. “I’m sure that you’ll get along with everyone else.”

“Will you do it, mother?” Kal asked.

“Are you a part of this thing as well, this council?”

Kal nodded. “Sort of. I go with Anton and no one’s said anything yet.”

“Alright. I’ll do it. But I don’t know how good I’ll be.” Marion scratched her cheek. “So, we wasted all that time talking about nothing…”

“Time to go speak with Ndale and see what he has to say.”

Anton turned to the Seocurian villagers. They tensed and Ndale worked his way through the crowd, he had been standing just behind the line of armed villagers. He smiled awkwardly as they approached.

“I didn’t expect you to have this many Beast-kin.” He chuckled nervously. “I know I haven’t seen one before but I knew what they were the moment I saw them…They don’t like us very much.”

“Um…It’s complicated.” Anton looked to Marion and Kristof, who held their faces blank. “But I wouldn’t hold it against them. They’ve had a very rough life and there are just some things that are not going to change any time soon. They’re not bad people...”

Ndale slowly nodded. “I understand. Our ancestors were not nice to your kind.”

“They still aren’t,” Kristof spoke very softly. Ndale seemed quite anxious but Kristof chuckled nervously when he saw Anton looking towards him. “But, if what Anton said about you is true, then it’s not your fault. If anything your ancestors tried to make things better.”

“Thank you.” Ndale bowed his head. “It is something that still weighs on our minds. But what are you planning to do now with all these Beast-kin?”

“We are still planning to head through the mountains. But there is something. A small problem." Anton held back a bitter smile. "One unrelated to the Beast-kin."

"What do you mean?" Ndale's eyes nervously twitched between them. "It'll be difficult to rebuild after the goblins but we'll manage. We always have."

"That's kind of the problem." Verona chuckled once. "They aren't really gone."

"What?"

"The purple crystals in the mountain are spewing out hundreds and thousands of the damn little things. And I don't have the strength to seal it, if that would actually stop it. Which I don't think it will. If anything it'll probably make them even angrier and bring a real horde down upon you. I don’t know how many are in there. It could be a few hundred or it could be millions. I simply don’t know. No one here can stop them."

Ndale fell weak to his knees. The villagers came to his aide, those far behind in the group gave Anton glares of hate. To them, he made their chief crumple with but a few words.

"I'm sorry to say this but I don't think you can live here anymore."

"So...So what do we do?" Ndale rose, with his legs still shaking. "Where can we go? Beyond the mountains there's nothing..."

He couldn't finish another sentence. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Well." Anton began, looking at everyone on his side. "There is somewhere you can go."

"Oh..." Marion winced slightly. "Now I understand."

“If you wish, you could come with us.”

Anton looked to the Beast-kin in the distance. Cetina had led them to a small plateau just before the mountain pass. She, and the other girl Beast-kin were doing their best to keep them under control and calm. It appeared to be working.

“The trip will be long and may be dangerous, but we have a city, a growing city, that survives against all odds in the wilderness. One that needs many more people.”

Ndale looked at the people behind him. Quite a few were old and many were young, not strong enough to make the journey without assistance.

“I’m not going to force you.” Anton smiled. “But we can’t stay here any longer.”

He nodded to the jetty. The Snowberry had already begun to sail away. Ndale sighed and looked at his people.

“We are just simple fishermen-”

“Fuck this!” Someone from deep within the villager huddle said loudly.

A Seocurian woman stood up, the same woman that spoke up before, a young boy and girl clutching tightly to her hands. She pushed through the others roughly as her children struggled to keep up with her. She was a middle-aged woman, the Seocurian’s skin tended to hide their true age quite well, with quite a good figure. Overall she looked similar to a Seocurian version of Marion.

“Unlike the rest of you, I’m not going to wait here and die.” She looked at Anton. “Do you really have somewhere for us to go? Where you can free from those stupid Goblins?”

“Sort of. Goblins are still a problem but we have high walls and lots of weapons to defend ourselves with. Not to mention…” Anton summoned a small lightning and fireball. “We’ve got a lot more than fishing spears and pitchforks.”

The woman looked back to the others. She chuckled and pushed her children forward. They appeared to be the same age as Shawn and Jocelyn.

“My name’s Lerato. And these are my children, Saburo and Lili. Say hello.”

“Hello.” Both children meekly waved and shied away behind their mother.

They grew more nervous as they looked at Kristof’s rather imposing form. Marion lightly bumped his side and he softened his posture. She caught Anton’s eye.

“Children…Children aren’t to blame for the mistakes of their parents.”

“Neither are we really.” Lerato retorted. “My parents or my grandparents had nothing to do with what happened to you. Not that that matters either.”

Marion slowly nodded but said nothing more.

“So, can we come?”

“So long as you are willing to do your part.” Anton smiled. “We don’t have food or space for slackers.”

Lerato laughed and rolled up her sleeves, revealing an impressive set of muscles. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself, better than my husband at least.”

“Is he here?”

“No. The Goblins killed him.”

Lerato spoke flat and devoid of emotion, far more so than one would expect. However, no one was willing to refute her claim. Anton shrugged and waved Lerato, and her children, towards them. Anton looked at Ndale and the other Seocurians. They appeared on the verge of coming with them.

“How much food and portable water do you have?” Anton asked Lerato.

“We’ve got some. Not so much water, we’ve got a stream coming down from the mountain that we use, but we’ve got lots of salted fish and fruits.”

“They’ll probably help stretch our supplies quite a bit.” Anton slowly nodded. He looked to Ndale and the villagers. “We really need to get moving. If you want to come with us, now’s your last chance.”

Several villagers stepped forward, scared and unsure of what awaited them but determined to not fall in their village. The rest, seeing some were willing to go, quickly joined.

“Seems like the decision has been made.” Ndale chuckled. “But Lerato speaks true. We don’t have that much in the way of water or food with us. And most of it was on the northern side of the village…”

“Gather whatever you can,” Anton ordered. “We will wait a bit longer while you get everything you can carry. But only the most essential items. We can replace anything except your lives. Even my magic can’t do that.”

Ndale organised the villagers into small groups that fanned out into the village.

Verona pulled on his arm and smiled. “Nice one. I thought we would have to leave them behind.”

“They didn’t look like they really wanted to go,” Kal said. “Except that Lerato woman.”

Lerato had moved to the side and currently spoke with Marion and Kristof. Despite the Beat-kin’s ingrained hatred for Seocurian’s they appeared to get along just fine, baring the odd twitch from Marion’s eyes when Lerato leant too close.

“Do you think her husband really just died?” Anton asked quietly.

“No.” Verona shook her head. “My gut tells me she killed him in the confusion.”

Anton looked down at her. Verona shrugged weakly. “That’s what it's saying. Though, no one really cared that he was dead. Something to ask when we’re on the move again.”

“How many people are you bringing back to Atros?” Kal chuckled. “Our husband is going to be leading almost a thousand people, half of which hate the other half, across monster and beast infested lands…I think this might still be a dream.”

Anton kissed her mask before gently prying it free. Kal resisted but allowed Anton to remove it. He smiled when he saw the mocha toned, and slightly sweaty, face exposed to the light.

“Thought you would like that.” He kissed her again. “Since we’re so far away from anyone that would want to hurt you. Now I can actually see the face of someone I love.”

It felt strange to say that when they would be travelling with Seocurians and Beast-kin, an unknown number who could be puritans and want Kal dead or gone, just like the people of Atros first wanted, but he didn’t want to hide her away. Kal smiled and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Marion looked at the sight and her eye twitched. Lerato saw Kal’s face and let out a small whistle. Kal’s ears pricked up but quickly fell flat once again.

“Not long now and we’ll be home.” Anton squeezed them both and led them back to the horses.

---[]---

Wilford had never been so glad to be rid of someone in his life. While the four had been good guests; polite, kept to themselves and paid well, there was something about them that gave him chills. Money, vast sums of money, had smothered that feeling but now they were sailing once again the feeling came back. He waited until they had passed the threshold to Dragon Tooth Bay before he said a word.

He let out a great sigh and felt the wind leave his lungs. One of his sailors rushed to his side but Wilford waved him away. They all knew he was being a bit dramatic.

“What do we do now?” The sailor asked, a tall lanky man.

“What do you mean? We head for home, that’s what we do.”

“No…I’m talking about…What we carried.”

The other sailors nodded as well. When Anton, that crazy and slightly aloof man, told him they were heading for Danafra he didn’t think much of it. He hadn’t dealt with slaves for many, many winters. Too much trouble, but the man was willing to pay a fortune. And throw in a ship, rent-free. When several hundred slaves were loaded onto his ship Wilford almost quit there and then. But not a single slave even looked the wrong way during their travel. Some were free of their bonds and allowed to roam the lower levels of the ship. But no one, not one, had tried to attack them. How had he done that?

Wilford shook his head. “We say nothing. Absolutely nothing. You lot understand? Not a single word of anything we just did to anyone, ever.”

“But he’ll call on us again.” The lanky sailor awkwardly smiled. “This is his ship.”

“Yes. But it’s ours to do with as we please. So long as we respond to his calls. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to ignore them.”

He said it was a communication pen….Is it really or is it some sort of cursed artefact? Who knows? And I don’t really want to know. But…His money is good. And that’s all that matters.

“Ignore that for now.” Wilford puffed out his chest. “With one job we can pay off every debt we owe and still have a lot left over for the better things in life. Set sail for Rusaddir. Wine, women and debauchery await us!”

A might cheer rang throughout the ship. Wilford couldn’t help but think of the simple pen resting on the table in his quarters. He just hoped he wouldn’t get too drunk, make a fool of himself and let the Church of the Holy Father catch wind of what they’ve done. Perhaps a closer port, one where the Church held no sway would be better. Safer at the very least. Definitely safer.

Chapter 107. Vol 3 - Storm over Ruins

Chapter 107:

Anton never thought he would be leading almost a thousand people through an unexplored and hostile land. But here he was. He rode near the front of the column of people as they manoeuvred through the mountain pass. Verona, Kal and Cetina, the only other people with horses, were spread out to try and keep everyone in line and from fighting each other. That hadn't happened yet but it was a serious concern. The Beast-kin were hardly impressed they discovered they would be travelling with Seocurians, even if they were just fisherman, not actual slavers. With some extra help from Kal's friends, it was interesting to see how much influence a single Drakeling had, they were kept behaved. The Seocurians, under the leadership of Ndale and Lerato, kept to the back. It seemed like the best idea. Though the Beast-kin didn't like the idea of Seocurians right behind them it was better than coming to a halt and the two groups running into each other. Then there would be chaos.

As they reached a crest in the stony path Cetina, who had ridden ahead, returned to the front of the column.

"How much further?" Anton asked. He looked down to the Beast-kin beside him, nearly all were keeping him in their sights. "The sooner we can spread out the better. Away from this grey."

"It's not that much further. After that little ridge, it's a gentle path to open grasslands. Is that what you were expecting?"

"No goblins hiding in wait for us?"

Cetina shrugged. "I couldn't see anything. Doesn't mean they aren't there though. There's all these small forests dotting the grasslands. Perhaps they're living in them?"

"They could be. This entire area was overrun by the little bastards...Any sign of any buildings? New or old. Even burnt ones?"

"There could be something in the north-west. Maybe. I'm not too sure." Cetina rubbed her eyepatch. "It's kind of hard to judge distances with this.

"When we get back to Atros I'll think of a way to get around that. Kal will be able to help as well. Right now we need to keep as much mana as possible. I know there must be a solution, and we’ll find it."

"Thank you." Cetina bowed her head and smiled. "It would be nice to see with both eyes again."

"I'll be glad when everyone's safe at Atros." Kal slinked right next to him. With her mask gone her face was once again exposed to the light and air, something she thoroughly enjoyed. "I don't want them out in the wilderness for long."

"Even though they've gone through hell and back I don't think they know how to survive out here like you do. Despite the horrors of the Seocurian Empire they did take care of them. Even if it was shittly." Anton looked at the large crates and barrels the Beast-kin were carrying. "And with this many more people I don't think we'll make it. Even with the extra supplies they brought."

The Seocurian fishermen carried their dried and salted fish over their shoulders in great bundles, the children the smaller baskets of fruit and skins of water. It looked to be a weeks’ worth of food at best.

Anton whipped his reins and followed the column. As Kal and Cetina followed he reached into a pack, scratching Luna on the way, and retrieved Cassius map of the Kar Kingdom. The intricately detailed map showed nearly all the important locations, most importantly where the cities and towns once lay.

"According to this." Anton looked at Kal who took the reins of his horse. "There should be a river right next to that burned city you saw."

"I didn't know if I saw a city." Cetina shrugged lightly. "But I can't see that well."

"The map says it's on the other side and comes down from the mountain...I wonder if that purple fog can leach into the water?"

"Let's hope not." Kal chuckled. "Otherwise we’re in a lot of trouble."

The front of the column began to slow. A few yells from Kal's friends and they continued but nowhere near as fast. They rode their horses to the front and saw what gave the Beast-kin pause. Lush green grass, rolling empty fields, extended as far as the eye could see, dotted by small forests and shrublands. A faint breeze blew from the south in a short burst, the grass bent in the waves with the wind. It was beautiful.

"Come on," Anton said loudly. "We've still got a long way to go yet."

A few Beast-kin returned disgruntled looks but the vast majority were still riding the high of being free for the first time in their lives.

How long will that last once we start trekking for weeks? I need to make a good impression now so they keep together.

"Where are we going?" Marion called out. She, Kristof and Rasha pushed their way through the crowds to him. "I can't see anything that looks like a city..."

"Still some ways away." Anton smiled and glanced at Kal. "But the place we are heading towards is very real."

Kal nodded furiously as a wide smile washed over her face.

"But for now I need everyone out of the pass. After that, I'll talk with the representatives of both sides, which means you three and Kal's friends from the Beast-kin, and show you where we are heading."

The Beast-kin spilt out of the pass and onto the sparse grass on the other side. Some burst into tears as they saw the near endless grasslands. Never before would they have seen such open and green fields. The Seocurian fishermen followed and moved to the other side. They didn't look so happy, many held odd looks for the Beast-kin's sudden outbursts of joy. Understandable when their home lay abandoned just behind, abandoned to become a nest for Goblins. Ndale and Lerato kept them moving and in order.

Verona parted from the rear of the Seocurian column and re-joined them, a bright smile on her face.

"How did it go? The Beast-kin didn't get into any trouble, did they?"

"No. They were fine. Could you please get Ndale and Lerato for me? Kal, could you get the Beast-kin? We need to have a little chat about what comes next."

Both girls nodded and sped off to their respective groups.

---[]---

A few minutes later everyone had assembled. Anton picked a spot between the two groups, a modest divide separated them where the Beast-kin nervously eyed off the increasingly sullen and despondent Seocurian fishermen. Despite the Beast-kin's ingrained hatred for their old masters, there were a few that gave them looks of pity. Anton hoped that could build into something more over the coming days. Anton coughed to focus himself. Everyone had dismounted and gathered around him. He beckoned Cetina to bring her horse close and use its side to rest the map upon. Her horse was not phased in the slightest, especially after Cetina rubbed its neck.

“Here’s the situation everyone,” Anton said as he unfurled the map. He held it high so everyone could see. “We are currently here, just the other side of Dragon Tooth Bay. Now, we need to get to here.”

He tapped just below the marker for Mount Aspire.

“Are you serious?” Marion asked, frowning as she looked at Kal.

“That’s where Atros is,” Kal said quietly. “And the only place where we can be free.”

“That’s a really long way.” Rasha shook her head and folded her arms. “Are you saying we have to cross an entire Kingdom?”

“Basically…Yes.” Anton smiled bitterly. “There’s no other option.”

“But this place is supposed to be full of Goblins and other things.” Ulyaa shuffled her spider legs. She stood slightly lower than everyone else, except for Verona, but Anton could see that she was simply resting and could easily reach Rasha’s height if she wanted to. “You can’t honestly expect us to make it that far.”

“And most of our people are weak and tired,” Lerato added. “Most of your…kind look like they’re pretty tough but we’ve got lots of children and the elderly with us.” Lerato held her children tight. “And they can only move so fast.”

“I understand that.” Anton looked at the map again. “But that’s what we have to face right now. There’s no other way to Atros…So we have no choice but to get through it as fast as possible. We’ve done the trip before. Once along this old road to Graterious and then through the Empire. All things considered, it was pretty safe.”

“That was on horseback,” Verona added very quietly.

“Yes, it was.”

“How long did that take?” Irso asked, her voice echoing and crackling with each word.

“Quite a few days. And we were riding pretty fast, from dawn till dusk basically. So it’ll take a lot longer on foot. I’m thinking fifteen or twenty days, depending on how fast we can go.”

“How long?” Marion asked exasperatedly.

“Fifteen to twenty days,” Anton replied, fully understanding that she had heard him clearly.

Marion looked at both sitting groups, then at the food and water they held between them. The others looked and came to the same conclusion. There simply wasn’t enough to go around. Ndale and Lerato quickly started to look very nervous but Anton cut off any thoughts that might be bubbling away.

“That won’t be a problem.” Anton took the map off Cetina’s horse and brought it closer to them. “This map shows the rivers and streams that cover the Kingdom. We’ll be able to get water and maybe some fish there…Are…Are there some Beast-kin that don’t eat meat?”

Rasha and Kristof raised their hands.

“We don’t eat meat,” Kristof said. He looked at Rasha who nodded. “It makes us feel bloated and sick. We just can’t eat it.”

“Maybe some eggs.” Rasha offered. “One or two a day I could handle but that’s it.”

“So what do you guys normally eat?” Anton asked.

“Fruits and vegetables mostly. Lots of vegetables…” Rasha frowned. “That’s going to be a problem. Isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Rasha and Kristof raised a brow as Anton turned to Kal. “While I don’t know much about what might be edible or not, we have someone that’s spent the last twenty years living off the land and knows what’s edible.”

“Years?” Ndale asked.

Anton didn’t acknowledge his slip and continued. “We’re going to need your help to stretch our supplies. Things like those mushrooms and wild fruits and berries. Everything that can be eaten we’re going to need.”

Kal smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best.”

Marion gave Anton a look, she didn’t like him sending her daughter off as a forager but he ignored it.

“So that will help stretch those supplies a little.” Anton mused. “Everyone’s going to be eating quite lean until we reach Atros. Right…Any questions?”

Everyone appeared a little dazed and confused. Slowly Irso raised her hand.

“So which way are we going? Are we heading straight towards this Atros of yours?” Irso stepped through the group and tapped the paper with her clawed finger. “How many Goblins and other things are going to get in our way? Even Beast-kin slaves know that the Kar Kingdom is gone and infested with the things.”

“Well, if I’m honest, there could be a lot.” Irso returned to her earlier position while the others looked very concerned. “On the road we took to get to Graterious we only passed one village, a small one that didn’t even have a name on any map. And that had a lot of Black Goblins lurking in it. I’m guessing that the ruins will be the same and simply teeming with Goblins. And I don’t want to fight them if possible.”

“So the plan…”

“Right. We head back to the road we took and follow it back to Atros.” Anton held the map against Cetina’s horse again. “If we take a line...we’ll have to pass through that city to the North West, but otherwise we can head straight back to the road and back to Atros.”

“Why not just head straight north until we reach the road?” Ndale asked. “Follow the mountain and then join that road. Seems like it might be safer. We don’t have that many weapons…And they’re just fishing spears and pitchforks.”

“Those will be more than enough against goblins. But will the four of us there won’t be a problem dealing with the Goblins. Verona and I can use very powerful magic, Kal’s a crack shot with a bow and Cetina’s an expert with a sword and shield.”

“That’s still only four defending hundreds.” Marion frowned faintly.

“You haven’t seen him when he’s serious.” Verona smiled and folded her arms. “In one attack he killed almost ten thousand Clansmen and Orcs.”

Everyone except Kal and Verona’s jaws dropped.

“And then he still fought.” Verona chuckled.

“Well…” Anton faintly smiled. “I think I’ve gotten better since then.”

“What are you people?” Lerato asked, hiding her disbelief.

Anton laughed. “We get that a bit. But there’ll be time to explain on the trip. But we can’t just head north to the road.”

“What’s wrong?”

I don’t think we should tell them about the crystal chasm that runs the border. Doubly so since we might have caused the Goblins in the chasm to go crazy when we crossed. And we don’t know how many Goblins are lurking there now. Could be more than we can handle.

“The purple crystals that burst through that mountain would be here.” Anton tapped on the map. “And we really should not be heading anywhere near that. So, we’ll head through the city to the North-West and keep moving parallel to that until we reach the road and then straight to Atros.”

Anton looked towards the ruined city. He quickly chanted a vision enchantment prayer. He could see things moving amongst the blackened and ruined city. The stooped gait meant one thing. Goblins. Not many, perhaps a few dozen at most, but there were likely many more hiding in the buildings. They could bypass the city but he didn’t like the idea of having a nest of Goblins lurking behind them. It would also be a good opportunity to show off their power and ability, just in case someone was thinking of doing something stupid. Just like with Virgil in Graterious…

“It’ll be fine.” Anton smiled and looked at Verona and Kal. “I just want to know, before we go any further, how good are Beast-kin at fighting something like Goblins?”

“We’ve never had to fight.” Marion began. “Or had the opportunity. The masters don’t want slaves that can fight. I guess one of the few good things about being a slave was that we never had to deal with them.”

“But they were still there?”

“Oh yes. Not that many of them though. The Seocurians…” Marion’s eye trailed to Ndale and Lerato before snapping back to Anton. “They have large patrol’s that scour the land and slaughter every goblin they can find...Honestly, I thought that they would be the ones to find Kal. They are very good at finding them.”

“Right…In that case, you’ll want to keep as far away from them as possible. Spears, or just pointed wooden sticks, would do for now.” Anton nodded to the burned northwestern city. “There still might be weapons there. We’ve found quite a few good things hoarded by Goblins before.”

“We can fight.” Rasha thumped her chest with her fist. “At least I can.”

“Because you’re all muscle.” Irso snidely added. “And not much else…”

Irso frowned at Rasha’s immense chest and held back a snarl. Rasha frowned and looked down to the Drakeling. “You can fight too. I know that your claws can easily tear through leather. Like when that Canine tried to grope you and you damn near lost your mind-”

“How do you know about that?” Irso flushed lightly. “That was…”

Irso barred her large teeth and stomped and kicked on the grass, small green leaves flying into the air. Everyone took a step back and let Irso vent her anger in peace. Finally, Eider and Ulyaa stepped forward and held Irso’s shoulders. Her anger filled eyes snapped to her two friends before softening to normal.

Irso hung her head low when she returned to her previous position. “Sorry. My anger can get the better of me sometimes.”

Anton glanced at Rasha. She smiled weakly and tried to shrink her form, despite that being all but impossible.

“But…” Irso clicked her neck. “Rasha is right. If I needed to I could tear apart something like a Goblins…Or a Canine that decided to put his hands where it didn’t belong.”

I bet he didn’t do that again. If he survived…

“What about you, Eider and Ulyaa. Can you fight?”

Eider looked at her claws. “I suppose so. My claws aren’t as sharp as Irso’s but I’m sure they would hurt.” A nervous expression washed over her scaled face. “But I don’t really want to fight them. I’ve never killed something in my life. It sounds…scary.”

“I don’t want you to fight but just be ready to, just in case. You need to be ready to defend yourself.”

“I won’t be much help,” Ulyaa said. “I don’t have claws or the strength that Rasha, Kristof or even Marion has. Maybe if I had one of those spears…”

“I take it you can’t make your thread fast enough for it to be a weapon?”

“No. But I don’t see how it could be a weapon. It’s strong but…”

“I was thinking something like a lasso.” Anton shrugged. “But it is asking a bit much for you to know how to do that right after being able to make silk again.”

“What’s a lasso?” Ulyaa cocked her head. Verona and Kal looked oddly at him as well.

“Don’t worry about it. But, despite what I’ve just said, I don’t want you to fight the Goblins by yourselves. They’re not something you should fight without some experience.”

“Which most of you don’t.” Kal quietly added. “After coming all this way I don’t want any of you to die from a Goblin.”

“Are they really that dangerous?” Rasha asked, resting her body on her stick. She looked at Ndale and Lerato. “I mean, I know they destroyed your village but there were a lot of them. But they’re so small compared to someone like me. I’ve never fought them before but they can’t be that much of a problem one on one…Can they?”

“They aren’t big or that strong but they can be very crafty.” Anton began. “But yes, you could easily kill them with just that stick. You, Kristof and any of the bigger Beast-kin. I’m sure that I could do it even.”

“So what’s the problem?” Rasha looked to the Seocurians. “Apart from them just overwhelming you?”

“Well…” Anton scratched his chin. “It’s just that. They’re never alone. I am a little worried about them climbing over you and stabbing you in the neck or something.”

“They can do that?” Rasha’s and Kristoff’s hands gripped tight on their sticks.

“Probably. You’re big enough that they can’t just leap up and kill you. But they would get onto your legs no problem and clamber up. The last thing I want to see is you have those things crawling around your neck while you’re trying to throw them off.”

One of Rashsa’s blue hands reached for her throat.

“Kal and I can heal just about any wound. But not if you’re dead. That’s something beyond Tethra’s power.”

“I’ll…I’ll…” Rasha simply trailed off.

“Don’t worry too much.” Anton smiled at Rasha. “And that goes for all of you too. Just stay together, never get separated and let us do the fighting.”

“That isn’t so bad then.” Rasha quietly mumbled. Irso, Eider and Lerato nodded in agreement.

Anton clapped his hands loud enough to attract everyone’s attention. “With that sorted, we should get moving right now. We aren’t going to get to Atros just by standing around, talking.”

“Do we want to keep both groups separate?” Verona asked. She looked between the Seocurians and the Beast-kin. “You guys won’t be getting along any time soon.”

Marion and Ndale locked eyes for a moment.

“I think it would be best if we moved as a group.” Marion began. “With the Beast-kin on one side and the Seocurian…fishermen on the other side. And you four in the middle on your horses.”

“Do any of you Beast-kin want some spears?” Ndale asked. “I’m sure we could spare a few.”

Marion shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. We-”

A deep rumble stopped everyone. Anton felt his blood run cold, Verona and Kal reached for him, as lightning echoed from far away to the south. Immediately his mind flung himself back to Fort Acidava; the red lightning swarming in the sky and the Demons that burst forth. He forced himself to focus. Kal, nor any of the Beast-kin, had acted strangely just before. Rather everyone looked oddly at them, and at Cetina who had drawn her sword, as they looked to the south. Dark clouds loomed at the very edge of the horizon. Every few seconds a flash of blue lightning rippled through the clouds but none struck the ground. The air underneath was grey and hazy from a significant downpour of rain. Anton grimaced as he watched the storm clouds. It was clearly coming towards them at a reasonable speed.

“A storm…Only the second one I’ve been through.” Anton turned to Verona and Kal. “How bad do you think it’ll be?”

“The ones from the south last for a few days,” Verona said. “It looks bad but I’m guessing that it won’t last that long.”

“By the morning it should be gone.” Kal looked at Anton. “But there’s going to be lots of lightning. And I’m still not comfortable with that.”

Marion winced and looked away, Eider and Ulyaa looked at her but she gave no answer.

“Hopefully it’ll only last a day but I don’t want to be out in any of it. Rain soaked clothes…or fur isn’t what I call a good time. That means we’re going to have to take refuge in the city until the storm passes. Which means we’ll be fighting.”

The idea they would actually fight made them all very nervous.

“But, as I said, we’ll be doing the fighting so you guys just hang back and let us handle it.” Anton clapped his hands again. “Tell everyone to get ready to move out. We won’t have long before the storm hits us.”

Everyone gave a nod and returned to their respective groups, except for Marion. Her fingers fidgeted with each other as she nervously approached Anton.

“Please keep Kal safe.”

“I will,” Anton replied. “We’re going to play it safe and lure the Goblins out of the city rather than search the buildings. All we need to do is make some noise and they’ll come running straight at us.”

“Okay…” Marion scrunched her eyes.

Kal gave her mother a deep hug. “I’ll be fine, mother. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do something like this.”

Marion wasn’t entirely convinced but still gave a final nod before returning to the Beast-kin. When she was out of hearing range Verona moved very close.

“How long do you think this is going to work before we have some sort of fight?”

“Hopefully it won’t get that bad. But…The moment the food starts to get low they’ll turn on each other.” Anton sighed. “In future we won’t be able to make this journey. It’s just too risky. We need to make that portal I was talking about in Porswea. Then we won’t have to cross this open and dangerous land.”

“But…”

“But we can’t fix that now.” Anton walked and took the reins of his horse. “We’re just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. The long way.”

---[]---

The storm clouds and rolling thunder was barely half an hour away when they neared the perimeter of the city. It was a modest city, probably as large as Atros when they left, but had clearly gone through a lot. The wooden walls were almost all burned down, there were more gaps than wall, but the buildings in the centre of the city remained relatively intact. Most importantly the rooves still looked to be in one piece. Even if there were a few holes it was better than being outside and exposed to the elements, especially if the storm lasted more than a few minutes.

Anton pulled hard on the reins to stop his horse. Verona, Kal and Cetina stopped beside him while the Seocurians and Beast-kin stood some meters behind them. A few Goblins had been spotted lurking in the grass, trying to stalk them, which upset and deeply disturbed the Beast-kin and Seocurian’s as they kept a nervous eye on them. It was the way the Goblins kept them in their sights, slunk low through the grass but clearly didn’t care they knew they could be seen. Kal fired a normal arrow and scared them off but it was enough to let everyone know that the threat was very real.

A few Goblins, yellow and green, peered around the burnt sections of the wall but didn’t try to attack them yet. Instead, they began chittering and chattering as more Goblins slowly came to the front.

“I’m going to need your hand.” Verona slyly said.

Anton didn’t hesitate as Verona took the blood. She didn’t look back, just in case someone saw her red eyes, but there was no way they couldn’t see the few parts of her exposed skin glowing red. When Anton turned back nearly everyone looked shocked.

“Right,” Verona mumbled. “Didn’t tell them what I am. Not that it would really prepare them.” She sighed as she ran a hand through her silver hair. “Can’t wait to have to explain it all again.”

Anton leant over and kissed her, one she readily accepted. They dismounted as the representatives came up to his side.

“How many are there?” Marion asked.

“Couple hundred,” Lerato replied. “At least. You think you can fight all of those at once?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. It won’t be a problem. The only problem will be that some might try and flee once we attack. And we can’t use our magic when we’re asleep.”

“Right.” Marion nodded and looked at Lerato. “I guess we’re stuck sleeping together tonight.”

Lerato laughed. “I don’t have a problem with that. Some of you Beast-kin seem quite sexy.”

“Mine’s taken.” Marion’s clawed feet gripped hard into the grass.

She looked back to Kristof. He smiled and held her arm. Anton knew that he had been staring at Lerato just a moment before.

“We should focus on what’s in front of us.” Irso pointed to the wall. “There’s a lot more of them while you’ve been chatting.”

“Oh no…” Eider shied away behind Rasha, who looked down blankly at the Cobra.

Almost four hundred Goblins, a few Black’s amongst them, were lurking around the broken wall. All held the sneering and hateful look Anton had always seen in their kind. Why they weren’t attacking was a mystery.

“Let’s get this over with…Do you think that the wood can be burned again?”

“Let’s not find out.” Kal smiled and nocked a lightning arrow. “I don’t want to be sleeping in the rain again. Shivering and trying to keep warm. That’s not fun.”

Kal loosed her arrow into the Goblins. The lightning arced through them, killing dozens and stunning the rest. Marion stepped forward and looked at her daughter. Kal turned back and smiled as she readied another arrow. Marion frowned and retreated to the others, standing very close to Kristof and his large stick. Kal’s friends moved close to Rasha, despite their previous relationship.

The Goblins, as ever, couldn’t stand being on the receiving end of an assault. A loud screech rang throughout the city as the Goblins began to pour out. The Beast-kin and Seocurian’s backed away and those with weapons shakily held them at the ready. Evidently, the Seocurians hadn’t faced this many at once. Verona glowed red and summoned her blood crystals over her head while Cetina drew her sword and moved closer to Anton and Kal. They waited until the Goblins had committed themselves to the assault before attacking. It didn’t last long. Anton unleased a wave of lightning bombs, Kal a flurry of lightning arrows and Verona her blood shards. The Goblins disintegrated before their very eyes into red giblets. Those at the back realised they couldn’t win and ran away. Anton threw dozens of lightning bolts and Kal chased them with arrows. Less than five made it back inside the broken walls.

When Anton turned back he was greeted with faces filled with unimaginable terror. Three people had just destroyed a horde of Goblins with barely any effort and there was still one that had done nothing. No one spoke until Lerato’s two children cheered.

“That was awesome!” Seumas and Lili yelled in unison.

Lerato was shocked by their outburst, pulled them back a little, but her face slowly changed to mirror theirs.

“What was that?” Ulyaa asked, peering around from behind Rasha’s large form. “Was that lightning? Did Kal just use lightning? And what did Verona just do?”

“That was the power of Stratos, God of Storms.” Anton began. “Kal used the magic of Tethra to make lightning arrows and Verona-”

Verona patted his arm as she withdrew the blood crystals to float above her head. “I should probably be the one to do this part.” Verona took a deep breath. “And I am a Blood Berserker.”

The Seocurian’s looked on blankly, perhaps a little confused by the use of the word blood, but many of the Beast-kin knew what she was.

“But.” Verona raised her hand. “I’m not like the others. I’m not crazy and constantly desiring to kill people. I’m perfectly normal…except for the fact that I glow when I use my powers.”

“I’ve heard a bit about them.” Marion kept close to Kristof, who was more surprised than she was. “Sometimes the Seocurian’s talk about them. But they’re mostly from the Clans…”

Verona sighed dramatically. “My ancestors are from there. Apparently. About two or three generations ago. But I’m not one of them.”

“Not that I haven’t had to deal with that a lot already…” Verona mumbled under her breath.

“Right…”

Another rumble of lightning caught Anton’s attention. The storm had overtaken the mountain pass. It wouldn’t be long before it reached them.

Anton started to wave them forward. “Everyone start moving into the city. Stay close and keep an eye out for any Goblins. If you see any point them out but don’t pursue. We don’t want something to happen to any of you now.”

Slowly the Beast-kin and Seocurian’s advanced into the city. Deliberate steps were taken to avoid the blood and fleshy remains but it was exceedingly difficult to avoid them all. Anton and the girls mounted their horses and rode ahead of the main group. They kept their weapons ready just in case. Once inside Anton was oddly surprised. Despite the city clearly having fallen to the Goblins it didn’t look that bad. Most of the central buildings were relatively intact, baring the obvious fire that had swept through, but it was leagues better than the small village they found along the old road.

“Now that we’re actually here it doesn’t look that old, does it?” Anton asked aloud.

“No.” Kal reached out and touched the burnt walls. She sniffed the black soot that came off. “It’s weak but it still smells of smoke. This is recent...As recent as a few winters ago.”

“Not forty?”

“I don’t think so. I could be wrong but I’m sure this is relatively recent.”

“That means this place was still alive and going before you turned up,” Verona said quietly. “And I thought that we were the only people left in the Kingdom. At least that’s what my parents always told me.”

Anton shook his head as he continued to ride forward. “It’s a real shame. But there’s not much we can do to help them now. If there are this many Goblins I doubt they’re still alive.”

“If we find the bodies we should give them a proper burial,” Verona said. “Not just a hole to dump it in.”

“If we do we will.”

Anton kept watch for any movement as they rode towards the largest building. He didn’t know what it was originally, perhaps a storage warehouse, but it was the largest building and in the best condition. The warehouse appeared to have multiple levels but he didn’t want some of the larger Beast-kin, like Rasha, Kristof or even Ulyaa, up there just in case. It was more than large enough to hold everyone on the first level if they were willing to bunch up.

“Found one.” Kal loosed an arrow.

It struck a solitary fleeing Yellow Goblins in the back. It didn’t explode in lightning or flame, the Goblin simply fell dead. Anton looked around but couldn’t see any more of the little critters. Anton motioned for them to stop and wait. They waited a few moments and Kal killed four more Goblins. They looked mainly confused or scared but once they spotted them the anger welled up within them. Anton waved the group to slow down, just in case there were more, but it seemed all the Goblins were dead.

“That should be the last of them,” Anton said. “We’re going to stop for the night in this old warehouse. Everyone make sure that you stick together and always have a weapon with you. The Goblins will tear you to shreds if they get the chance. Or worse.”

They dismounted and approached the warehouse. One of the wooden doors had been broken off. Cetina clanged her sword loudly on her shield, the sharp noise echoed throughout the building. Nothing came out.

“I think it’s good.” Cetina glanced back with a faint smile.

“We’ll still need to be on guard, just in case something’s lurking inside.”

Cetina nodded and entered first with her shield raised. Verona followed, then Anton and Kal. The interior was almost completely barren; the wooden windows had been broken, a few sections of wall were missing and broken crates littered the floor. A rickety staircase, nestled in the far corner, led upstairs. The upstairs floor, their roof, had many holes but what lay above was shrouded in darkness. But for what they needed from this building it was perfect.

“We just need to do a little cleaning and then we’ll be good.” Verona nodded to the far side of the room to a table that was only partially burned. “That table…You still need to contact Atros before we go to sleep. Let them know we’re coming.”

“And with a lot more people than we thought we would.” Anton pursed his lips. “I hope Zac’s been busy.”

“If not he’s going to be.” Kal smiled warmly.

Marion and Kristof entered first.

“It’s not too bad,” Marion smirked lightly. “We’ve had to sleep in worse places. Right, Kristof?”

“Yeah. Like the days after the riots.”

“Yeah…” Marion looked away.

I want to know what happened when Kal was thrown from the walls of Danafra. Kal hasn’t told me what happened before that, I don’t think she even knows what happened. But I want to know. Especially since I’m married to her.

“After we clean this place up we’ll have lots of room to sleep…” Anton looked around the floor. “Though you might have to get pretty cosy for tonight.”

“Not worried about that.” Marion smiled at Kristof.

They entered the warehouse, followed by a small stream of Beast-kin, and began to rearrange the rubble. When the Seocurians began to enter the Beast-kin had already finished using the discarded wood from the crates to crudely patch the gaps in the warehouse's walls. It clearly wasn’t the first time they had done something like this.

Marion caught his eye. “We always have to make do with what we have. And normally that’s not a lot.”

“It’ll keep out the spray.” Anton nodded as he lightly pulled on the wood. It felt pretty solid. “And the Goblins.”

“Should we bring the horses in?” Cetina asked from the open door. “The rain is almost on us.”

“Bring them in. We may need to head upstairs to see if we can patch any of the holes.”

Cetina and Kal brought their horses inside and directed them to sit just inside the door. They didn’t look too happy resting on the burned wood but eventually they complied with their instructions. Kal picked Luna out of her pack and let her loose. Luna ran outside for a moment before returning to Kal’s side. She gave her a quick scratch before Luna began to sniff at everyone. Most seemed rather enamoured by the small Peryton and looked to Anton to see if it was alright to pat her. Luna looked delighted to receive near unlimited attention.

Anton motioned for them to gather around the table.

“How long until the rain gets here?” Anton asked Cetina.

“Not long.” A loud rumble of lightning echoed through the warehouse. “It’s probably over us right now.”

“I think we should check the upper levels. Just in case there’s something valuable hidden up there. Or anything dangerous hiding from the storm.”

“Last time we got clothes.” Verona frowned lightly. “And that journal…I wonder if that man found his way here? That noble guy from the old Kar Kingdom.”

“I think he died in the end. Him and everyone else in that place that he fled to. Balefire Mine. I guess it’s just like this place now. The Seocurian fishermen seemed to be the other people that Nithroel was speaking about.”

“What clothes?” Cetina asked. “You were wearing pretty simple armour when I first met you.”

Verona explained what they found in the small nameless village on their journey to Graterious. She appeared quite interested that the chest had revealed a decent haul of good clothes and the mysterious journal.

“Excuse me…” Marion’s voice brought Verona’s story, already deviating to the types of food Kal was capable of cooking, to a halt.

“What’s up?” Anton smiled as he lent against the table. “I know this is pretty bad but it’s the best we can do right now.”

Marion smiled. “It’s not that, Anton. Just…Even in Seocuria, we had some blankets. And we don’t have any. And…” She looked to the Seocurians, specifically Lerato trying to raise the spirits of her children and Ndale keeping his people together. “I don’t think they have anything like that either. They had to leave their homes in a rush and really only took food and water. And what they’re carrying right now.”

“We’ve got packs…” Anton looked at the floor above them. “If this is a warehouse there might be something we could use. It might be burned but it’ll be better than nothing.”

“Thanks. I don’t want anyone to get cold. Even the Seocurians.”

“Verona, Kal. Could you come with me and check out the upper levels. Cetina, I want you down here, just in case something goes wrong. Someone needs to stay here that can fight well.”

Cetina rested her hand on the pommel of her sword. “Got it. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“We can fight,” Rasha said loudly. She had chosen a spot relatively close by and raised her wooden stick above her head, nearly taking out a nearby Beast-kin and a Seocurian.

“I think Anton means something a bit more than just waving a stick about.” Cetina almost smirked.

Rasha blinked blankly before her blue face contorted into a frown. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? I’ve watched the Seocurians practice a few times. They just thrust and smash their sword about until the target is dead. Isn’t that right?”

Cetina chuckled. “There’s a bit more to it than that. I didn’t have the best training but there’s so much more to fighting than that.”

“Really?” Rasha’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

“If I were to block or parry your strike then what would you do? You’d be exposed to my next attack.” Cetina scratched her head. “There is quite a bit to learn. And strength alone isn’t enough.”

“I’ve bonked a few Seocurians and Beast-kin on the head hard enough that they have trouble moving for a long time.”

Anton raised his hand. “Rasha, while I appreciate your enthusiasm there is more to fighting than just swinging a stick about. Though with your strength it should be enough. ”Rasha’s face brightened a little. “But you will listen to Cetina’s orders if something goes wrong. Out of all of us, she has the most combat experience…in melee, at least.”

“I-”

“And, if I’m honest, we’re all a little bit stressed, myself included. So please just take a deep breath before you say or do anything. There’ll be plenty of time to relax and unwind when we make it to Atros.”

“Okay.” Rasha nodded slowly. She turned to Cetina. “Sorry.”

Cetina waved her down with her free hand. Everyone was on edge right now.

Another rumble of thunder told him they were minutes away from a great deluge of rain. They couldn’t waste any more time.

“We’ll be back soon,” Anton said as he motioned towards the staircase.

“Ha Ha.” Irso, sitting a few meters away, chuckled with her crackling voice. “You just got told off. That’s a first, isn’t it? Most of the time you can just bully your way out, huh?”

Rasha didn’t respond and looked away.

---[]---

The stairs were almost completely rotten. Each step felt as if it would their last and would simply disintegrate into dust beneath them. However it held Anton, the heaviest of the three, and they made it to the second level. While the Goblins had cleared out the bottom level this was in far better condition. Most of the wood still had fire damage but there were some crates that were in one piece. Whether or not they had been looted or not was another story entirely.

Kal gingerly stepped forward first, pressing a hand on Anton’s chest to hold him back, and tentatively stepped on the wood. It didn’t groan or shift underneath her weight. After a few light jumps she seemed confident in the strength of the floor and beckoned for Anton and Verona to follow. Anton caught a sly look from Verona as they approached the crates on the far side of the room. There were quite a few small gaps in the floor, more than big enough for a foot. Anton led Verona after Kal, Verona almost slipped into one. It wouldn’t have been large enough for her to fall through but it would create a scene to see Verona’s leg dangling through the roof.

“Any symbols on them?” Anton asked. “So we don’t have many more surprises today?”

Kal rapped her gloved fingers on the top of the crate. “It says Kermuric Shipping. I…I don’t know who they are or what they did. But…Every single crate has their name on it.”

“Oh well. Let’s see what we’ve got then.”

With a mighty heave, the lid snapped off. The nails holding it together had long since rusted away to nothing. The blackened lid crashed loudly onto the floor, Anton heard murmurs from below. Inside lay a motley collection of metal cutlery, badly rusted, but some appeared to be made of porcelain. Anton tossed out the broken plates and picked out those that could still function as cutlery.

“At least they’ll have something to eat off,” Anton said. “Well, a few at least.”

“It might start fights.” Kal frowned lightly. “I think everyone’s really tense right now. If we hand something out it might make it worse.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Kal winced. “As I said a while ago I can see the small changes on someone’s face…And everyone’s really nervous and scared right-”

A distant rumble of thunder, the roof above them flashing brightly for a second as the lightning ran along the cloud, stopped Kal dead. She reached and held Anton’s chest tight. He held her hand and slowly stroked it until she relaxed.

“Sor…It still makes me nervous.”

“Tonight’s going to be really bad for you then,” Verona mumbled with a faint and awkward smile.

“Let’s keep searching.” Anton looked at Kal’s ears. “We might need to cover them with some pads if the storm gets really bad.”

Kal chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

They separated and searched the remaining crates. They were filled with rusted pieces of metal, some of the objects so far gone that he had no idea what he was really looking at, but nothing of much use. The Beast-kin and Seocurian’s would have to eat with their hands. Though, in this world, that appeared to be the norm for most people.

Verona, sighing upon finding rusted simple forks, stood up and straightened her back. “Hang on…I can see something up there.”

She pointed to the corner of the roof, a small hole leading up. The remains of the ladder had almost entirely rotted away entirely but a single beam remained with small stumps of the rungs sticking out.

“Is it more crates?” Anton asked.

“I think so. But I can only see two.” Verona shrugged. “Whoever goes up there will be able to tell.”

“Who’s the lightest of us?”

“I think that would be me.” Kal handed over her bow, cloak and daggers to Anton. “I’m pretty sure that’s me…”

Kal glanced at Verona, her eyes flicking down to her chest before she clapped her hands together and prepared to climb the ladder. “At least I’m not that heavy.”

Verona chuckled. “Don’t worry Kal. If Marion’s anything to go by you’ve still got some room to grow.”

“I’m older than both of you.” Kal chuckled.

“Not that anyone would think that.” Anton smiled.

Kal smiled, shook her head, and pulled on the ladder. It appeared strong enough but Kal wasn’t convinced.

“Another chance to test out my magic I suppose. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, make this wooden ladder sturdy once again.”

Kal took a deep breath the next second, her eyes widened slightly, and gave the ladder another pull. She seemed much happier with it now. Kal ascended the ladder faster than a cat scaling a tree. Anton looked down to Verona, she looked just as impressed as he felt. Kal wiggled slightly as she reached the top and hauled herself up.

“What do you see?” Anton asked.

Kal lent back over. “I can see the actual roof from here. There aren’t that many holes up here and most I think we could patch up really easily. There’s…There’s three crates up here. One’s broken and looks like it had more knives and things but the other two look fine. I’ll see what’s in them.”

Kal left their sight and began lifting the lids off the crates. She grunted as the first one came free.

“Well, we’ve got some blankets.” Kal returned with a large bundle of dark green cloth in her hands. “Not enough for everyone but it’s a start.”

Anton pulled Verona back and Kal dropped the blankets. They weren’t particularly thick, many had holes, but it was better than nothing. Before they could retrieve it Kal dropped another two large bundles of cloth.

“I’ll take these down.” Verona heaved the bundles in her arms. “They’re going to want them before it gets cold and wet.”

“What else have you got up there?” Anton asked as Verona gently trotted down the stairs.

“It’s a big crate,” Kal yelled down. “The same name as before but it looks a little different.”

After a few heaves the lid slid off and fell with a loud thump. Anton saw the roof above move ever so slightly but it didn’t break.

Kal returned to the edge a moment later. “You need to come up here and see this.”

“Hang on. I’ll be up in a second.”

Anton gingerly climbed the ladder, always afraid that it would give way at any second. When he reached the top Kal looked more than a little concerned. She nodded to the crate. Anton peered inside. A skull looked back at him, many skulls. He recoiled a little in shock before he steadied himself. He had seen things far worse in his time in this world but it was still unexpected.

“There must be thirty skulls in here.” Anton gingerly reached in and picked one up, the jaw falling loose. “They look human…at least I think they are. I’m not sure if humanoid Beast-kin have the same shaped skull as us.”

“I’ve…I’ve never thought about it.” Kal raised a brow. “But why so many? And why here? They seem to be pretty old. There’s no flesh on them at all.”

“I’ve got no idea. But someone went to the effort of putting them here. And just the skulls. The rest of the body…” Anton moved his head to the side. “Looks like there’s something underneath this.”

They gently removed the skulls and placed them to the side of the crate. Neither wanted to desecrate the dead any further than necessary. Removing the skulls revealed another large ream of cloth, nearly identical to the previous crate.

“Seems like a little much for a piece of cloth,” Anton mumbled.

Four at the bottom were particularly big and had to be laid from corner to corner. These looked far too large to be wielded with one hand, perhaps not for someone like Rasha or Kristof. Perhaps they could use one in each hand?

“So…hiding weapons.” Kal raised a brow at Anton. “Underneath a blanket. And some skulls…Am I missing something?”

Anton shook his head. “I have no idea. Maybe someone, before this place fell, went a bit crazy and tried to hide all his good stuff. Or hers. I don’t think we’ll know. But we should give these out. A few more weapons will really help them feel safer. I’ll hang halfway down the ladder and you pass them down. Hopefully, Verona’s already done handing out the cloth blankets.”

“Okay.” Kal frowned as she picked up a mace. “There’s something in the corner…Looks like a piece of paper.”

She passed the mace to Anton, the weapon felt very heavy in his hands and pulled out a single scrap of paper. It was very old, slightly rotten and stained with dried blood. Kal moved closer to Anton and held the piece of paper up.

“Looks like a map.” Kal murmured.

“Of this city…No name though.” Anton frowned. “I don’t really know what I’m looking at but I’m sure that we’re in this big building here. Seems like…Seems like nearly half of the buildings here belonged to this company.”

“There doesn’t seem like there were many cities or towns near here. According to that map from Lord Cassius.”

Anton looked more closely at the smaller buildings. There were small markings underneath the dirt and dried blood. He chanted a prayer to restore the piece of paper. It took some mana but it worked. The stains and torn sections faded away until it looked like new. No names had been revealed but the small markings became much clearer. Next to the smaller buildings were small icons that looked like bundles of grain, logs of timber and dried fish.

“Looks like it was a major resource distribution centre for the region. Probably from the Seocurian fishermen and the smaller towns. Makes sense I suppose.”

“Everything’ll be gone by now.” Kal sighed. “Definitely the food. Even the wood is probably gone by now.”

“Yeah. But the cloth was still here.” Anton rubbed his chin before tapping the map. “But this building looks like it has cloth in it. That little mark looks like reams of cloth. This place might have made cloth as well.”

“During my time in Seocuria and Graterious they didn’t like transporting wool or cotton that far. It could get damaged or something. They preferred to just transport the cloth. There might have been a lot of herders out here so they moved the industries here.”

“It’s possible but I don’t think we’ll ever really know. But, there might still be some left. Someone survived here until pretty recently.”

“Are you guys alright?” Verona shouted from below.

“Yeah,” Anton shouted back. “We’ve got some more cloth and even some weapons. How did they like the blankets?”

“Really good. But it’s looking a little tense right now. There’s not enough to go around and it’s making everyone really agitated.”

“Everyone can suffer through hardship together.” Anton murmured. “But it can be really hard when someone’s got it easy, and you’re shivering in the cold.”

“We definitely need to see if that other building is still in one piece.”

“Verona?” Anton shouted back down. “We’ll start bringing down some more blankets and the weapons. I need you at the bottom of the ladder to take them.”

“Aren’t you just going to drop them from up there?”

Anton smiled at Kal and began descending down the ladder.

The Beast-kin and Seocurians were quite surprised to see a massive ream of cloth being brought down. Verona, or whoever had distributed the cloth blankets, had focused on the elderly and the children. It should, should, keep spirits up. The adults would have to tough it out for a bit. The iron maces, still covered in dried blood, brought some concern, especially when they were laid down on the table.

“Are these for us?” Ndale asked, a thought shared by Marion.

“You need something a bit better than claws and a few sticks.” Anton smiled. “It’s not that much but it’s a start.”

Marion picked up a smaller mace and swung it in the air. “It’s not as heavy as I thought it would be.”

“Well, you work hard nearly every day.” Anton began. “So it really wouldn’t be a problem. Whether or not you’ll be able to land a hit or not is something entirely different.”

“It can’t be that hard. I’m sure I could hit one of those Goblins with one of these.” Rasha tried desperately not to make a move.

Cetina stepped forward and took a mace. “It’s harder than you think. Goblins are really small and move about really fast. If you swing and miss you’ll just be letting yourself open to attack.” Cetina tapped her metal chest armour. “And you don’t have this to protect you.”

“I don’t think your fur is enough to stop their wooden spears,” Anton said. “Or their claws. Or teeth.”

Verona and Kal nodded.

“I was stabbed through the foot by a wooden spear.” Verona frowned and rubbed her chin. “It really fucking hurt. Though that was Rock Rats rather than Goblins…”

“What?” Ndale shuffled towards the table. “The Rock Rat’s are usually peaceful unless you disturb them. They live in the mountain range that protected us but we’ve never had a problem with them.”

Anton shrugged. “Well, we needed to get to a stone mine. Stone to build walls to defend against Goblins. We didn’t attack them just because we felt like it.”

“That’s what humans do best...” Marion muttered under her breath. Kal shot her a death glare and she immediately withdrew her assertion.

“Anyway, we need to hand these out to the strongest we’ve got here.” Anton looked at Marion and Ndale. “I don’t know who that will be for each group but I think that two of the larger maces need to go to Rasha and Kristoff.”

“You want us to take these weapons?” Kristof asked. “Actual weapons.”

“Yes.”

“But…But we’ve never held a weapon before.” He looked at Rasha, who seemed rather indifferent, then to the other Beast-kin listening in. They were more worried about having to fight. “We’re…We’re basically farmers and labourers, not soldiers.”

“Cetina?” Anton began. “If you could, could you show the Beast-kin and Seocurians that take up weapons how to actually fight? They need to know more than to just swing it wildly about.”

“And so they don’t hit each other.” Kal nodded. “That won’t help them get along.”

Verona smiled and leant against the table. “Thankfully we don’t have that problem when we fight. We tend to keep out of each other’s way. Imagine if we had to fight side by side with swords or spears.” Verona looked up at her red crystal tipped spear. “I mean, I just swing and stab with this thing.”

Cetina nodded seriously, a light frown gracing her face. “I’ll do it, Anton.” Cetina scratched her temple. “If you want me to that is. I suppose it’ll be good practice for me. Better than just standing here waiting for the rain to stop.”

“Thank you, Cetina.” Anton smiled, he received an honest one in return. “But I don’t know how much room you’ll have. There’s not all that much in here.”

Anton looked out the only open door. The rain had almost reached the warehouse, the ground outside had turned dark and slick with water. He couldn’t hear the rain just yet, the roof was quite thick and far above them, but when he focused he could hear it. Quickly the faint patter of rain turned into a roar. Everything beyond the door became grey and opaque. The Beast-kin and Seocurian’s shied away from the door and pulled closer to one another, Anton could see rain spray starting to dampen the burned floor.

“Everyone’s going to have to bunch up to stay away from the rain,” Anton said, an order quickly repeated by Marion and Ndale. “Don’t worry about getting cosy with your neighbours. We’ll all be doing this over the next few days.”

They moved away from the door and some of the larger people moved pieces of wood to try and keep the water away. Anton looked up to see three places where the water was starting to come through the ceiling. By some miracle they only came through at the edges of the room. Again Ndale and Lerato ordered everyone away from the streams of water coming down through the roof. How they would deal with the pools of water as the night drew on would be something to worry about later.

“Better than being out in the rain,” Marion said, taking a quick glance at Ndale then to Kristof. “I don’t fancy getting my fur wet and freezing to death.”

Verona sighed, leant against the table and stretched her arms above her head. “Since it’s raining, and we’ve got every entrance sealed except the front, are we going to go to sleep? There’s not much else to do except talk. And I think we all really need some sleep.”

“Well…” Anton turned to Marion. “How many people still need blankets?”

“Most.” Marion smiled bitterly. She nodded to the younger Beast-kin, those that Anton would say were in their early teenage years, and the Seocurians. “They’re good but we could use a lot more.”

“There’s supposed to be a building out there that’s full of cloth. I don’t know if it still exists or it’s going to get waterlogged but I want to see if it’s still there. The Goblins hopefully should have left it alone.” Verona and Kal looked at him. “Hopefully. Possibly.”

“Just having three of us isn’t going to be enough.” Kal threw her cloak over her shoulders, quickly followed by Verona. “Especially if there’s going to be lots of stuff to take back.”

“Or Goblins,” Verona added. “We didn’t get them all so they could still be out there…And your magic isn’t going to be that effective.” Anton looked at Verona. She shrugged and smiled. “Fire really doesn’t work in the rain and your lightning will just follow the rain down to the ground. So…”

“Yes...That’s right. But I don’t want you going out there on your own.”

“We won’t.” Verona looked to the Beast-kin. “We’ll just get some help. Besides, we probably won’t be able to carry all of this with us.”

“You could just use your blood crystals.” Anton offered as he stood up from the table. “You handed over the food, before we got into Graterious, with a plate made of blood…”

“What?” Verona smiled sweetly and leaned in towards Anton. “I know that look. You’ve got an idea.”

“Maybe. But you’ll need a bit more blood than you’ve currently got. But first, we need to see who’s going to help us.”

Anton first looked to the Seocurians. Most seemed very despondent and sullen. Now that they had a real moment to sit and think, think about their upturned lives, the thoughts were taking their toll. Anton doubted they would be any real help for a while. Perhaps getting them moving and working would raise their spirits but it was still the same day their lives had been turned upside-down. Having the man responsible for their evacuation of their homes telling them to get to work might be counterproductive. None looked like they wanted to help, except possibly Lerato or Ndale but both were needed here for different reasons. That left the Beast-kin. They were a little better than the Seocurians but were still very nervous and apprehensive at the sound of the rain and distant lightning. Evidently, it wasn’t just Kal and Marion that suffered through the storms.

I really need people that I can trust. Not that there are many. Guess it’ll have to be Kal’s friends…At least I know their names.

Anton approached them. Kal’s friends, and Rasha had remained very close together. Irso nudged Eider and Ulyaa, both of whom were starting to doze off when he approached. Rasha perked up and watched him. Luna, who had been busy receiving pats and scratches from anyone that was offering, ran towards them. She still wasn’t entirely stable and crashed into his legs after a flurry of hooves and claws scrapped at the burnt floor to stop her. Anton gently picked her up, Luna looked a little indignant but he didn’t know why and gently stroked her head.

“I need a favour from you girls.”

“What?” Irso growled, a scowl forming on her lightly scaled face.

As ever the Drakeling was very curt and aggressive towards him, mainly to protect Eider and Ulyaa. Not that he would do something to them. Eider and Ulyaa smiled at Anton before lightly nudging Irso. She glanced at her friends before softening.

“Sorry,” Irso mumbled as she avoided eye contact.

“What’s happening?” Eider asked. A small forked tongue licked the air. “I don’t really want to say it but…Everything, everything seems to be fine right now.”

“You’ve just ruined it.” Ulyaa chuckled and lent back. Meaning she leant back along her spider body. It was quite large compared to everyone else but she kept her spider legs tucked tight underneath to minimise space.

“I…I need your help to move some more cloth blankets in.” Anton looked around. “There’s not enough as there is but we might have enough if we can get to a building out there. And if the cloth is still there.”

“Out there?” Edier nodded outside. “With all the cold rain?”

“It shouldn’t be that bad,” Rasha said. She appeared to be quite aware that she wasn’t included in the immediate grouping but Anton allowed her to continue. “I mean, we’ll get wet and a bit cold but we’ve all been through worse…A lot worse.”

“Yeah.” Irso and Ulyaa’s faces turned crestfallen.

“It’s easier for you three.” Eider sniffed angrily at the air. “I don’t like the cold.”

“That is something I wanted to ask.” Eider glanced at Ulyaa then to Verona. Verona chuckled but didn’t say anything. “But do you have problems with the cold? Since you’re a Cobra?”

Eider hesitated before shrugging. “I’m not really sure. Seocuria doesn’t really get cold, even during the winter. But I have been cold a few times and I didn’t like it. I didn’t feel bad but everything slowed to a crawl. Like my head was filled with gunk and my body was covered in it. Nothing moved like I wanted it to, not even my mind.”

“Sounds like you don’t produce much heat yourself. Tell me, do you like working in the sun?”

“I guess so. I feel warm in the sun but then it can get too hot.” Eider looked at the other Beast-kin. “They can sweat but I just get hotter and hotter. I have to ask the masters to get out of the sun for a while to cool down. They do, but I have to do something else.”

“Right. I’m asking that, not just because I’m curious about how some of you more exotic Beast-kin work, but we might be getting wet and cold.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. I might just get slow and tired, that’s all.” Eider reached for Ulyaa’s spider body, landing her head and upper body with a loud thump. “I might need this after I’m done.”

“I’m not going to be that for you.” Ulyaa gently pried Eider free. Both girls gave a quick chuckle before attention returned to Anton.

“So, can you help me? I just want to make sure as many people as possible have blankets. Especially if this storm gets any worse or it starts to blow in.”

“Sure,” Rasha said quickly. “I can carry a whole bunch. If you want me to come. I’m probably one of the strongest here.”

“Get one of the bigger maces and get ready to head out into the rain with the rest of us.”

Rasha nodded and moved to the table. Ndale and Marion were discussing something but parted for the large blue Minotaur as she reached for the weapon. She stopped at the table and looked at Anton.

“What about you three? Every person helps.”

“Sure.” Ulyaa rose up on her spider legs. “I’m not as strong as a Minotaur but I’m not weak either. And I can use my silk to bundle up the cloth if you need to.”

“Didn’t think of that.” Verona smiled at Kal, who returned an odd look.

“Me too.” Eider stood up, brushing the soot off her backside. “Some of the Seocurian fishermen don’t look that good. They probably need something like a blanket more than we do. Besides, if I don’t get one, I’ve got a big ball of heat right here.”

Eider slapped Ulyaa’s spider body. Ulyaa squeaked and jumped at the sensation, quickly turning and slapping Eider’s shoulder hard multiple times. Eider raised her hands in submission but Ulyaa got a few more hits in before huffing and turning away.

“I’m not so sure.” Irso scratched her chin. “You said that this place was crawling with Goblins. And I know that you didn’t get them all. What if they’re waiting out there for us?”

“We can deal with them pretty easily. Verona and Kal are really strong and good fighters, better than me, and I’ll have Cetina wait here with the others to make sure they stay safe.”

“Again?” Cetina chuckled and leant against a support beam. “Well, it means I don’t have to oil my armour again. So that’s good…I suppose.”

Irso ran a hand through her hair. She slapped her thighs and stood up. “Fine. I’ll help. But only because these two are going. I can survive a night without a piece of cloth to cover me.”

“Thanks, all of you. Grab one of those maces and get ready to head out.”

“So what’s your plan?” Kal asked. “You obviously have some better plan than just walking out into the rain and drying off when we get back. Not to mention, how are you going to keep all the cloth from getting wet?”

“Yeah…” Verona slowly nodded.

“It involves you, Verona, and your blood power. However it’ll take more than what you usually have and I don’t feel like falling unconscious, so we’ll need to share it around.”

“Okay…Still waiting to hear what you’re planning with my powers.”

“Trust me. You’ll like it.”

“I trust you.” Verona smiled. “I’m just curious.”

“Um, Cetina? Could you please take care of Luna for a little bit? I don’t want her to try and follow us out there.”

“Sure.”

Cetina gently took Luna from his hands. Luna tried to struggle free but relaxed when she was scratched behind the ears. Cetina looked more than a little annoyed Luna didn’t want to play with her until scratches were involved.

“Okay.” Rasha rested the mace on her shoulder. “I’m ready, and so are the others-”

“We aren’t others.” Eider frowned as she came alongside Rasha. “And you shouldn’t talk down to us like that. That’s why no one stood up for you when the Seocurians took you away when we could have said something.”

Again Rasha turned crestfallen and looked away. Anton spied Ulyaa and Irso sharing the same look but to a lesser degree for Irso. He didn’t want something like this hidden for much longer. Like everything, it was better to nip it in the bug and not bring it to Atros. Leave it in the past.

“Rasha, I know this might be rude to say, but I’m guessing you might not have been the nicest person.” Anton began.

Rasha winced and picked at the end of the mace. “Yeah…I was pretty much always bigger and stronger than everyone else. And I could get away with anything.” She looked to the Beast-kin. “And I overdid it. Too many times.”

Anton turned to Kal’s friends. “I ask that you leave the things that happened to you in the past, in the past. Even if that sounds impossible. Atros will be a new start for all of you and I don’t want the past to tie us down.”

“We’ll try, Anton.” Ulyaa scratched at her ear and tucked her hair over it. “I think we’re all going to have to do it.” She looked at the Seocurians then to Rasha. “Some things might be easier than others.”

“I’m only asking that you try.”

“Thank you,” Rasha whispered and looked away.

“Gather near the door.” Anton waved them forward. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

They nodded and gingerly pushed through the bundles of bodies on the floor. There was a path but it wasn’t very big, something that proved to be an issue for Ulyaa and Rasha. Both had to take considerable effort not to stand on someone.

“I never thought Rasha was actually bad.” Kal lightly kissed his cheek. “When I was speaking with mother she told me what she knew about them. Rasha came up a few times…I don’t think she actually liked doing what she did.”

“It was probably the easier thing to do.” Anton shrugged. “I guess you had to do whatever was necessary to survive. But it’s in the past. And where it belongs. So, Verona?”

“Yes?” Verona smiled and leant forward. “Am I finally going to hear what your plan is?”

“Yes. You’re going to need quite a bit of blood. More than I can safely provide. That’s…That’s another reason why I needed your friends.”

“I don’t think they’re going to like being Verona’s blood bags.”

“That’s…” Verona scratched her head. “That’s one way of putting it. Not the way I would but…”

“Take a bit more than the usual from each of us.” Anton ushered them to the door. “Kal and I will heal their wounds.”

“Okay. Still want to know what you’re doing.”

The Beast-kin girls were a little concerned when Anton explained what Verona needed from them. Verona winced when they looked at her. Until now her main supply of blood had been Anton and a very few times Kal. This was something entirely different.

“Okay.” Ulyaa held out her hand. “You’re only taking a bit, right? I mean…we’ve all been through worse.”

“Oh yeah.” Eider nodded, her tongue flicked around her face.

“Not me though.” Irso flicked her mane backwards. “Only stupid people would try and touch me.”

For a second she glared at Anton. Evidently his touch, even the few moments it lasted, still lingered on her mind.

Rasha said nothing but looked ready to help. Verona took a deep breath and activated her blood power. They recoiled ever so slightly as the red glow overcame her body. The only time they had seen this they had been far away, not this close. Verona tried her best to appear calm as an awkward smile formed on her face.

“Woah.” Irso managed to say.

“It is pretty odd, huh?” Verona scratched her head. “Haven’t had to use this in front of people that aren’t strangers in a little bit.”

“It’s just…your eyes. They’ve gone completely red. I can’t even see the black dots in the middle.”

“Yeah…So…” Verona looked at Anton as she took out her knife. “I’m going to need your hand for a little bit.”

Anton allowed her to take a small amount of blood. Again the Beast-kin girls looked on concerned as the blood flowed from his shallow wound and into the air. Verona used a hand and directed the blood to one of the clay pots on her hip. Anton chanted a healing prayer as Kal took off her glove. Verona hesitated before making a tiny nick into Kal’s hand.

“Ow.” Kal’s eye twitched as the knife made its incision. “I don’t know how Anton can do this with such a calm face.”

Eider and Ulyaa glanced at each other.

Anton shrugged. “Guess I’m used to it.”

“Now it’s your turn.” Verona chuckled, almost devilishly. “So, throw out your hands.”

Verona took a small amount of blood from each, the same she would have taken from Anton for combat. Eider and Ulyaa chuckled as the blood defied gravity and floated away from their small wounds and into the clay vials. Kal healed Irso, still eying off Anton, while Anton healed the others. With all her vials filled Verona deactivated her power.

“Okay.” Anton turned to the rain, still thundering down outside. “I want you to form all your blood into a very flat and wide cone, with the point in the middle.”

“I’ll give it a go.”

Verona activated her power again and shaped the blood into a cone. The crystallised blood was very thin when but the cone ended up very large. More than enough to cover everyone with lots of room to spare.

A Blood Umbrella…

“Oh.” Verona smiled and nodded. “I get what you’re doing.”

“I never thought that your power could do something like this.” Kal smiled at Anton then patted Verona’s shoulder. “See, your power isn’t just for fighting and killing.”

“Yeah…” Verona seemed quite happy. “Thanks.”

Verona moved the blood cone into the rain. Water splashed off and into the warehouse but the cone held its shape. A strange high pitched clanging sound rang out with every drop, the blood itself was ringing with every strike.

Verona grunted and frowned as she lifted her hand up. “The rain’s making it heavy. It feels like it’s constantly being dragged to the ground.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Anton asked.

“No. But I need to focus on keeping it where it is. I don’t think I’ll be much good in a fight. Not without getting wet.”

“That means two of the normal fighters can’t fight.” Kal smiled. “And I can’t use my special arrows either.” She turned to the other Beast-kin. “I’m glad that you’re coming with us.”

Eider smiled, folding her scaled arms. “It’s not a problem Kal. You’re always going to be our friend no matter what, even if it’s been twenty winters since we last saw you.”

“If…” Ulyaa nervously held the mace in her hands. “If we do meet Goblins what are we supposed to do?”

“Just swing it at them.” Verona offered. “Crack them in the skull. It’s kind of what I do most of the time. When I don’t have my blood power.”

Ulyaa, nor any of the others, looked particularly pleased. Nevertheless, they followed Anton, Verona and Kal underneath the Blood Umbrella. Rasha coughed lightly and Verona lifted it higher. As Verona stretched the crystallised blood a bit further Anton looked at the tattered paper. Now they were out in the rain it didn’t seem so bad. The mud kicked up by the rain splashed onto their boots. However, four of the Beast-kin with them didn’t have any sort of footwear. Mud had already started to stain their feet…hooves and clawed legs.

“When we get back don’t forget to clean your feet.” Anton smiled awkwardly. “Since we wear boots all the time I really didn’t think about it…”

Rasha looked to her hooves. “It’s fine for me. Most of the time I’m like this. And there’s enough water puddling around to wash it off.”

“So long as Anton doesn’t try and touch my feet.” Irso quietly said.

“You don’t need to mother us, Anton.” Ulyaa chuckled.

Verona made a tiny noise as Anton pointed to a blackened building in the distance. Compared to the others it most in one piece, though it was difficult to make out in the rain.

“If this map is correct that building might still have some cloth in it.” Anton frowned. “And also a good place for Goblins to wait out the storm. If there are still any left.”

The Beast-kin girls took things a little more seriously and held their weapons tight in their hands, bunching ever so slightly closer together as they scanned their surroundings. Their sense of smell was almost useless in the heavy rain as was their hearing. For Kal, and Anton didn’t know about the other types of Beast-kin, with her heightened senses would stuck listening to a cacophony of worthless noise. They only could rely on their sight. And that didn’t extend that far.

“What is that?” Eider whispered harshly.

A shaky scaled hand pointed deep into the rain. Anton focused and saw a blob of movement run through the flickering grey of the rain. Verona grunted and readied to throw a shard but Anton held her shoulder. She looked up, an unreadable expression in her glowing red eyes, but Anton shook his head. He looked at Kal who was already nocking an arrow, losing it the next second. Over the roar of the rain Anton heard it pierce flesh, followed by something landing in the mud. They gingerly approached, the Beast-kin girls incredibly nervous, and found a dead Yellow Goblin shot through the throat.

“That’s a really good shot, Kal.” Anton squeezed her side.

Kal smiled and retrieved her arrow. As she wiped the blood off the tip she looked around. “Why was he outside?”

“Maybe he’s still trying to find somewhere nice and dry.” Anton offered. “Still, we need to keep moving.”

Verona began moving forward but Irso didn’t. She looked at the dead Goblin, its face submerged in the mud as blood leaked from its neck and started blending together.

“It’s…It’s just so quick.” She said. “It was alive a few moments ago…”

“Come on.” Anton waved her forward, not daring to touch her.

Irso quickly caught up before the rain reached her. Kal kept her bow ready and nocked as they moved through the remains of the town. While they didn’t see any more Goblins Anton was sure that he saw some at the very edges of his vision. When he glanced at Kal she shared his opinion, though she wasn’t willing to voice it. They could both see the Beast-kin weren’t coping well with the stress. Their eyes were swivelling about for the faintest sound or movement in the rain.

Another minute passed before they arrived at the building. Compared to the others this, and the next two were almost completely intact, barring being burned. It was still worth a look. The buildings didn’t look much worse than the large warehouse. As they approached Anton slowed Verona to a crawl.

“We can barely see in there. And I don’t want to get stabbed by a Goblin.”

“We don’t have Cetina’s shield,” Kal said quietly.

“True.” Anton coughed. “Oi! Anyone in there?”

All turned in surprise at Anton. Anton shrugged and focused his attention into the building. Nothing emerged so Anton gingerly ushered them forward. Verona raised the blood cone above the building just as Anton and Kal stopped them again. Ten Green Goblins sat inside huddled in the far corner, desperately trying to light a fire with normal stones and charred wood. How they didn’t hear him was unknown. For a moment Anton’s mind flashed back to when he first met Cetina when she was trying to start the fire. A quick blink dispelled such wandering thoughts.

“What do we do?” Eider asked, bringing her mace close to her chest.

“Pretty obvious.” Verona said quietly.

“What?”

“This is a good chance to show you what fighting, killing, is really like.” Anton readied some lightning bolts, just in case. “Just swing and retreat. Don’t let them attack you.”

“Are you serious?”

“You’ll be fine. Trust me. We’ll be right here.”

“Okay.” Eider looked at Irso and both girls nodded. “We can do this.”

The Goblins looked up, at the roof then at Verona’s blood cone. One turned to the door and saw them, shrieking in their strange language. Almost as one they picked up their crude wooden weapons and turned. Rasha and Irso readied their weapons to fight but Eider and Ulyaa shied behind Anton and Kal now they could truly see them. It was still too early for them to lunge into the fray.

“Just like the eyepatch girl said.” Rasha glanced at Irso. “Don’t risk yourself and breathe.”

Irso clicked her tongue. “Can’t believe you’re trying to pick a fight with someone this quickly. You really have something against her.”

The Goblins charged, with their usual lack of self-preservation, and soon were within striking distance. Kal loosed an arrow and felled two Goblins as they reached the door. Irso swung her mace late but the shaft still connected with a Goblin’s head, crushing it like an eggshell. Rasha raised her leg and stomped down hard on one, the Goblin crushed underneath her hoof, then swung her larger mace upwards, taking out another Goblin. However, their attacks left them unbalanced and exposed to the remaining Goblins. Just as Anton was about to throw the lightning bolts Eider and Ulyaa rushed forward, perhaps unable to watch their friends get attacked. They were even less coordinated but Anton liked their determination. They only managed to strike a single Goblin, Rasha another two and Irso one before Anton fired his lightning bolts and killed the remaining two Goblins.

Anton waited a moment before stepping forward. “Take deep breaths. Take your time.”

All were breathing very hard, their hands shaking with the rush and thrill of battle. Irso backed away from the door, almost into the rain, before she steadied herself. Eider and Ulyaa took a moment longer before they were better while Rasha bashed her hoof sideways on the floor to remove some of the Goblin that was stuck inside.

“That…” Irso shook her head. “That was…”

“I thought that after everything we’ve been through something like that would be easy.” Eider dropped her mace in the mud. She quickly retrieved it but her fingers hesitated to touch the blood-stained metal. “We always dreamed of killing the masters. What we would do to them. But I never thought it would feel so…”

“Wet.” Ulyaa continued. She had Goblin blood staining her arms. “Warm and wet. All that’s left of them.”

“There’s a bit of them stuck in my hoof.” Rasha raised her leg and pried out bits of Goblin with her blue fingers. “But it was so easy to kill them.” She turned to Anton. “How do you three not just go crazy? Killing all the time?”

“It’s not something we do lightly,” Anton said. “It may look that way, when I can just wave my hand and someone disappears. Or Verona using the blood or Kal her bow and magic arrows. Killing something isn’t done without reason.” He felt the urge to look away slightly. “Even if that reason is sometimes petty and selfish. We don’t do it just for the fun of it.”

“I…” Rasha couldn’t finish.

“Come on. We can’t wait here forever.” Kal said quietly and gently pushed them forward. “And they’re all waiting for us. I don’t want my mother to come out into this looking for us only to find us chatting.”

“I don’t want to see Marion angry again.” Irso smiled, exposing her large teeth.

When they were inside it was clear why the Goblins had not heard them. It was incredibly loud. Anton couldn’t understand why from his first glance. He looked more closely and saw thin rusted metal forming a sheet over some sections of the roof. The sound emanating from the metal plates was deafening, especially since they were so thin.

“Do we have anything here?” Verona asked.

“If there isn’t we need to head back,” Kal said. “The map only showed this one having anything that looked like cloth. The others were supposed to hold timber.”

“I can’t see that far,” Rasha grumbled. “It goes back a fair way but there’s not enough light.”

Kal squinted her eyes. “There is something there but it’s a little hard to make out.”

“Hang on.” Anton summoned a small fireball to illuminate the room. “There we go.”

A warm orange light filled the room. It wasn’t as empty as they first thought, at least towards the back. To the side of the attempt to light a fire three Green Goblins lay still. Their bodies were emaciated and almost husks. Anton didn’t know what to make of this. The Goblins needed to eat only grass to live so why were these so weak.

“Any idea?” Anton asked Kal.

Kal shook her head. “I…I honestly don’t know Anton. I know that Goblins don’t let the weak ones live. Maybe that’s what these are?”

Verona tugged on his hand. “Remember what happened in Mount Aspire? In the depths?”

Anton did remember but it wasn’t something he liked to think about often. But Verona was right. In the cave, they found the captured women of Atros giving birth to Goblins, and the female Goblins killed one born slightly deformed. He looked to the still Goblins but didn’t see anything that looked too odd about them.

“Better be safe.” Verona stepped forward and stabbed each in the head. They were alive and let out a final whisper of a breath as they died. Verona didn’t look particularly happy putting them down.

Beyond the dead bodies, on the far side of the room, lay more crates marked with the symbol of the shipping company. Many lay broken and torn apart by the Goblins, their contents destroyed from exposure and interference, but quite a few remained.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Verona pried the lid open with her spear. It fell loose with a mighty thud and revealed the precious cargo within.

Anton reached in and pulled out the reams of cloth, still in one piece despite the passing of time. They were rough and coarse, many fraying fibres and holes, but they were better than nothing.

“This is a great start.” Verona smiled and Anton passed a cloth ream to Verona. It was too large for a single person but everyone was going to be sleeping close to each other for some time. It would be enough to keep the worst of the elements away.

“There are quite a few of these to bring back.” Anton mused. “How…How heavy are these things?”

“Let me give it a try.” Rasha stepped forward and picked up an unopened box. She lifted it effortlessly, a slight frown on her face, and stacked four boxes in her arms. “This doesn’t seem as heavy as I thought it would be. I guess that healing thing you did made me a bit stronger.”

“Or you’re just a massive slab of meat.” Eider quipped.

Rasha shuffled and gave one of the crates to Eider. She guffawed under the sudden weight and dropped it to the ground, the crate shattering on impact.

“Oops.” Rasha smiled and looked away.

Eider huffed but didn’t retort.

“Well…” Anton scratched his head. “We can still get most of these back. But I’d like to get them all if we could.”

“There might be a way.” Kal turned to Ulyaa. The arachnid looked around nervously as she pointed at herself. “Yes. Your thread. Marion told me that she’s met some arachnids that could still use their thread. Could you bundle those up and then wrap your thread around them?”

“That…” Ulyaa scratched her head. “I suppose so. But I’ve only made a thread once. And that was just to show that I could do it.”

“I know I don’t completely understand how it comes out.” Anton began. “But if you just make a long enough string of silk we could do it by hand.”

“I suppose so.” Ulyaa moved to the broken crate and arranged them in a rough pile. “I remember some saying that they could just use their hind legs to do it.” Ulyaa stepped over the pile and tried to pick up the bundle with her rear four legs. She was incredibly uncoordinated and could only hold a few at a time. “Not that I know how to do it.”

“I’ve got another question.” Anton’s words stopped Ulyaa. “When the silk comes out of your…Your spinneret, when you want it to stop does it just stop?”

“I don’t...” Ulyaa’s face flushed red. “Oh. Oh, I understand what you’re saying. Um…” She looked at the end of her spider body. “Sort of, I suppose.”

“Why don’t you just check?” Verona sniggered at Anton. “It’s not like you haven’t seen a girls body before.”

“It’s different than that.” Ulyaa breathed deep to calm herself, the red faded away from the brown. “Having someone look at that would be worse than having my top exposed.”

Ulyaa trailed a hand over her human body. Anton couldn’t help but notice the size of her curves, barely hidden underneath her thin clothing.

“Do you want something to wear over your spider body then? We have more than enough cloth now.”

“I’ll think about it.” Ulyaa nodded seriously as Rasha put down her crates before adding another to the stack. “But first let me get some silk.”

Ulyaa backed away from the cloth and looked shyly towards them. “Could you please look away? It’s kind of embarrassing when everyone’s watching.”

“You did it in front of us before?” Verona asked as she turned away.

“I was kind of shocked what was happening. That I could actually do it.” Ulyaa shrugged. “This is different.”

Anton turned away and looked out into the rain. It appeared to be thinning but it could have been wishful thinking. Behind he heard a tiny grunt and one of Ulyaa’s legs moving on the old wooden floor. He caught Kal’s eye. She smiled and lightly punched his arm.

“When I met you I didn’t let you to see my tail. Each Beast-kin’s got something they keep very personal.”

“When did you lose yours?” Eider asked.

“Can we turn back yet?” Anton asked.

“Yeah.” Ulyaa sounded a little out of breath. “Yeah, I’m done.”

Ulyaa held a small bundle of white silk in her hands, far larger than the first bundle she had made on The Snowberry.

“Right. I’ll bundle these together.” Ulyaa lowered her body and collected the cloth, with Irso’s help. “Not much different than what we used to do.”

Kal looked at Eider. “What did you say?”

“I asked when you lost your tail. I remember it being pretty big.”

Eider and Rasha leaned to try and get a look at Kal’s backside. Anton frowned and pulled Kal towards him, an action which Kal found funny.

“Even though I love having it free I’ve had it bound for so long that I barely notice it at times.”

Kal lifted her armour, exposing a sliver of taught mocha toned stomach, and unbound her tail. With a sigh of relief, the long limb fell free to swirl in the air. It coiled around her body before gently poking out of her cloak. The Beast-kin girls stopped as it swayed through the air.

“Woah.” Rasha managed to say. She looked at her own tail, barely a foot long tipped with a small tuft of red fur. “That…”

“Holy shit.” Eider chuckled. “I don’t remember it being that big.”

Kal smiled and held the fan end, twirling the orange stars around her fingers.

"That's insane." Eider pulled up her much shorter and fatter tail. "I wish mine was like that."

"If it was you'd be dragging your arse all the time." Irso chuckled, somewhat forcefully as her eyes were glued to the swirling green tail.

Ulyaa sighed as she finished arranging the clothes in a bundle and began to tie them with her thread. "You lot do your fascination with tails." She looked at Anton and Verona. "Sometimes it's all they talk about. I'm sure you can understand where I'm coming from."

"I guess so." Anton reached for Kal's tail. She obliged him and the three fans found their way into his fingers. He couldn't help but smile as he felt the softness and warmth in his hands again. "But I do think Kal's is fucking beautiful."

"Stop it." Kal playfully swatted away his hand. "You're trying to make me flush on purpose. Again."

"True." Anton held her tail again.

“Even Marion’s isn’t that long.” Rasha moved closer and leant down. “Can you move it like we can?”

Anton saw Rasha’s short tail swish through the air with complete freedom. Kal nodded and lifted up her cloak. The tail twirled and flicked through the air like a streamer. Finally, she let it rest naturally behind her with nearly half her tail sticking up despite it nearly touching the ground.

“That must get really annoying to hold it like that.” Rasha flicked her own tail again. “I mean, you can’t just let it hang down like we can.”

“It’s…” Kal frowned and scratched her cheek. “I really don’t notice it. If I have it out all day it can get a little sore but most of the time it’s bound up or I’m moving it about.”

Kal swished her tail in front of Verona, Verona’s red eyes followed the orange star on her fans. Rasha, Irso and Eider chuckled at Verona’s stare, Verona laughed as well.

“I think it’s pretty too.”

Kal brought her tail underneath her cloak and wrapped it around her waist. She didn’t rebind it but she tucked the fan end so it wouldn’t come loose. Now there wasn’t much chance of it getting wet or covered in mud when they left.

“Got it!” Triumph came from Ulyaa as she picked herself up and rested her hands on her hips. “That won’t come undone any time soon.”

The bundle of cloth now looked very secure with her white silk digging in very tight. Anton smiled at the small cute bow that adorned the top. Ulyaa caught his eye and looked a little embarrassed.

“So,” Verona looked further into the building. “There’s still a lot to take back. If I had all my blood I could carry it back.”

“But then we’d get wet.” Anton nodded out the door. “And if anything it sounds heavier than before.”

Verona clicked her tongue. “I suppose so. But if you were to give me some more blood…”

“Can you control that much safely?”

Verona nodded. “Yep. Just can’t let it touch my lips, that’s all.”

“What happens if you do?” Irso asked, a clawed finger gripping tight on her mace.

“Nothing good.” Verona winced as she approached Anton. “Nothing good.”

With another small vial’s worth Verona picked up almost half the remaining crates. It clearly took a great deal of effort to control everything. Anton didn’t really understand how much mana Verona had, he knew she had some but it wasn’t limitless. He and the other girls picked up a crate each and Ulyaa the bundle. The crate was extremely heavy in his arms. When he looked at Rasha, carrying four without any visible exertion, she smiled and chuckled as she lifted her crates higher.

Now I’m really glad that Kristof didn’t get his fingers onto my throat. My head would have popped off in a second if he did.

Verona moved the blood cone with them and back into the rain. Anton scanned the surroundings for any signs of more Goblins but his fears were unfounded. He spied Cetina standing at the door, sword drawn and shield in hand, looking anxiously into the rain. For a brief moment he feared an attack was imminent but upon seeing them Cetina’s worried look transformed into a smile. She waved them over.

“We were starting to wonder where you’d gone to.” Cetina visible relaxed and moved to the side. “I was wondering if we had to go out into the rain to rescue you.”

“Thankfully everything went fine.” Anton waved the girls inside.

They brought the crates inside and placed them near the entrance. Verona relinquished her control over the blood cone, after moving it far away, and then the rest of her blood after putting down her crates and moving it outside. She breathed deep and shook her hands. Anton gently held her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Verona smiled. “It’s just a little tiring to hold all those things up with just my magic, you know. Controlling them on their own is fine but once there’s weight on them they take so much more effort.” Verona looked at Rasha as she put down her crates. “Of course, being that strong would make it so much easier.”

Rasha looked at Verona but she gave nothing away. Rasha shrugged lightly and began ripping the crate lids off. The Beast-kin girls handed out the bundles of cloth to Marion, Kristof, Ndale and two Seocurian’s. They in turn handed out the cloth to some very eager and desperate looking people. However, Anton noticed some looks the Beast-kin and Seocurian’s where shooting each other. Not many of them were good.

Looks like some are already starting to blame the other side for the situation we are in. Hopefully, with a full night’s sleep and a bit of food, that’ll go away.

“I’m going to talk with Marion for a bit.” Kal gave Anton a kiss and walked towards her mother.

“Same.” Verona smiled. “Well, sort of. I want to have a talk with the Beast-kin. I’m kind of curious about a few things.”

“Alright.” Anton kissed Verona. “But make sure that you keep your hands to yourself. I don’t want to see you running away from Irso if you try to grab her butt like you did Kal.”

Verona laughed as Irso glanced at her. “I wasn’t thinking of that…But do you think I could outrun her? Probably not.” She chuckled again. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to talk to them, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Verona sauntered off and began helping the Beast-kin girls unload the reams of cloth as she chatted with them. Cetina, still with her sword drawn, moved next to Anton. She looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Did she really do that to Kal?”

Anton nodded. “Yeah. Within a few days of meeting her. Though she wanted to see if Kal had a tail and simply travelled a bit too far south.”

“What…Oh.” Cetina smiled. “I bet that caused some problems.”

“A quick swat but nothing too lasting.” Anton smiled as he watched Verona and Kal chatting. The Beast-kin that received their cloth blankets stopped and looked in awe at Kal’s tail. “I’m lucky that I was the first one to touch her tail.”

Cetina threw him an odd look.

“It’s not something Beast-kin just let anyone touch. Think of it as someone just coming up and grabbing you on the butt.”

“That’s nearly happened before.” Cetina shook her head and chuckled. “Though not for some time…”

“Actually, Cetina, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

Anton nodded for to move closer to the single opened door. And the sound of the falling rain. Cetina looked a little confused but followed his action. She moved him away from the door and held her shield against the wall to block any intruders.

“What’s the problem?” Cetina asked. “And just after talking about groping a woman’s butt.”

Anton turned to see a sly smile on Cetina’s face, almost a playful one. He couldn’t help but smile knowing that she could make such a face. Cetina chuckled and ran a gloved hand along the rim of her helmet and tucked the few strands of black and blue hair that hung over her ear.

“So what did you want?”

Anton moved closer so he wouldn’t have to yell. “I wanted to know how everyone’s doing. How the Beast-kin and Seocurian’s are getting along. If they’re getting angry or tense or if they’re just sitting about.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cetina looked at the people still sitting down. “They haven’t done much yet. A few tried to get into the food, from both groups, but we managed to make them back down.” Cetina looked at her sword. “They’re afraid of someone like me. But I don’t know what they’re going to do when we start getting low on food. I don’t know how to forage for food…Or if there is even any out here.”

“Kal will help us with that.” Anton smiled. “She’s spent nearly twenty winters living out here on her own. And she’s got a bow so we can hunt animals for food. Not to mention myself and Verona can hunt too.”

Cetina took a deep breath. “At some moments I was starting to worry. But apart from that they really aren’t a problem. They keep to themselves…You can see the gap down the middle of the room. A few are talking to each other but apart from that they aren’t doing anything.”

“Some are actually talking to each other…Interesting. Thanks, Cetina. I was a little worried leaving you here, by yourself, but I should know that you can take care of yourself.”

Cetina smiled. “Thanks. You don’t need to worry about that. I can take care of myself. I’ve been alone for a very long time…”

Her face fell at the end of her sentence, her eyes looking down.

Anton held her shoulder. “Not any more you’re not. Now, have you had something to eat yet?”

Cetina glanced at his hand before shaking his head. “Not yet. We were going to wait until you returned before we started doing that. Just in case something like a fight broke out while you were gone.”

“Can you help me hand out the food? We can’t just have everyone taking food like it’s a free for all.” Anton looked at Rasha and Kristof. “Especially some of the larger Beast-kin. I’m guessing they didn’t get much to eat but if they’ve got an open buffet…”

“I’m not sure what a buffet is…” Cetina shrugged. “But I guess I understand what you mean. That they might just try to eat their fill. And some of them look quite skinny and hungry.”

“Exactly. I need someone that no one’s going to mess.” Anton smiled as he started walking towards the piles of food. “And no one’s going to mess with you.”

Cetina chuckled as she followed closely behind. Anton told what he was doing to Kal and Verona, who both agreed and kept working. He and Cetina reached the crates and barrels but was stopped when a hand touched his shoulder. It wasn’t armoured but he heard the sound of Cetina’s armour grinding against itself. An extremely dark hand rested on his shoulder. For a moment he thought it was Ulyaa but as he turned he could see her still talking with Verona and the other Beast-kin girls.

“Hey.” The owner of the hand said. “Are you handing out food now? We’re all starting to get hungry.”

Anton turned around fully to see Lerato, one of the few Seocurian fishermen he knew by name, and her two children, Seumas and Lili. Her children partially hid themselves behind her but they didn’t shy away from Anton’s gaze.

I don’t actually know that much about the Seocurian’s yet, I know quite a bit about the Beast-kin, and I really should if we’re going to be travelling together. It might make things easier for the Seocurians if I…we can actually talk with a few of them. Make them think they aren’t something we’re just dragging around.

“We’re about to start.” Anton smiled. “But at the moment it’s just me and Cetina’s who’s going to be handing it out.” Lerato raised a brow. “So there isn’t a rush or fight over it.”

Lerato nodded. “I can see that might be a problem. But…” She scratched the back of her head, her inordinate breasts moving with every twitch of her muscles. “But do you want a hand? There’s not much for us to do and I feel that I’m just sort of mooching off you. Considering what you did for us…That doesn’t feel right to me. I think we all feel that way a little.”

“Of course you can help out Lerato.” Anton smiled, Cetina relaxed her sword arm. “I think your kids can help us as well.”

“They’ll be glad to help.” Lerato pulled her children close. Their faces didn’t speak of eagerness to help but they were just children, children whos whole lives had just been uprooted forever in a single day. “It’ll be good for them to be doing something with their hands. Keep them busy…”

Anton agreed, sparing a momentary glance towards Cetina. Moving was the better alternative to sitting and dwelling on disaster.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you as well,” Anton said as he opened one of the crates. Inside lay tightly packed dried biscuits and large bags of nuts. While they were not the tastiest of treats it would keep them going.

“Oh?” Lerato leant against a crate slightly lower than herself. Her old and slightly ragged fishermen shirt didn’t do a very good job of hiding her chest. “And what you could possibly want to know about little old me? I’m certainly not that interesting. At least, not compared to those Beast-kin you’ve got wrapped around your little finger.”

Anton followed Lerato’s nod towards the Beast-kin girls. They were chatting and smiling, even Rasha, as happily as they could be expected. Verona and Kal looked to be having an equally good time. Anton smiled as he turned back to Lerato.

“They’re just glad to be free of their hell. To be able to walk free for the first time in their lives.”

“Maybe…If you really think it’s just that.” Lerato sighed. “But what could you possibly want to know about me? I’m probably not even the most interesting person from our group.”

“I, hang on. Cetina, could you please make a little noise to get their attention?”

Cetina clanged her shield lightly. “Dinner is about to be served.” She glanced at Anton who motioned for her to continue. She cleared her throat to steady herself, now that she was the centre of attention. “So…Um, form a line and we’ll hand it out. There’s no need to push. There’s enough for everyone.”

“Anyone that does will go hungry for tonight,” Anton added. “There won’t be any of that now or later. Understood?”

There was no sound of opposition. Cetina smiled as the rough line formed in front of her. The Seocurian and Beast-kin didn’t seem to care where they stood. The notion of filling their rumbling stomach would be enough to keep them calm. For now. Anton and Cetina moved to the side of a food crate and began handing out enough for the evening meal. The Seocurian’s looked on blankly at the food, obviously expecting a little more, while the Beast-kin were pleasantly surprised by the quantity and quality. Many were skinny but not as bad as Kal when they first met. Slaves couldn’t be effective if they could barely rise from their beds. Lerato picked another food crate, containing the same food, and began distributing. She looked at what they were giving out for reference and didn’t let anyone get too much, no matter how much they pleaded with her. Seumas and Lili remained close to Lerato, took a smaller barrel of water to stand on, and helped their mother. Their eagerness to contribute, and their smiling happy faces when the food left their small hands, stopped many attempts of complaining dead in their tracks. The relatively orderly procession continued for several minutes before Lerato spoke up.

“So what did you want to ask me?”

“To start off with, just the basic stuff. Like who you are and what you did before coming with us.”

Lerato shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Try me.” Anton handed out another piece of food. “We’ve got some time to kill.”

“Okay. Well, I was born in Jaka, like everyone else…Not the Beast-kin, obviously. And I’ve lived there my whole life. Every day it was either fish, in a small boat or from the shore, collect fruits and nuts or chopping wood.” Lerato shrugged. “That’s all I can really remember. That’s what my life was until the Goblins came and…changed everything.”

Anton glanced at her children, happily helping her mother. “I’m sure that you found someone though.”

Lerato looked at him when he nodded at her two children. “Yes…He died in the Goblin attack.”

Anton didn’t like the cold way she looked when she mentioned him. She saw him stare before she sighed again. “Fine. I’m guessing that you won’t let this go. Seamus, Lili, could you please go back to where we were sitting for a bit? Mommy needs a little privacy.”

Both children glanced at each other, nodded and left. As they walked away they kept glancing over their shoulder but Lerato waved them on.

When they were clearly out of hearing range Lerato sighed again. “My husband was not a good man. At first, I thought he was but…it wasn’t long before he showed me what he really was. A brute…”

Lerato pulled down her shirt slightly. Anton knew it wasn’t meant to be teasing or titillating, especially when he saw bruises on her skin.

“He liked to hit me when something went wrong.” She glanced at her children. “And his eyes wandered a lot…”

“Did he actually fall to the Goblins or…?”

Lerato nodded. “Oh, he did. But not bravely. He tried to use me as a shield when they burst into our house. But…I moved out of the way and let them attack him. The little bastards didn’t seem to care who they started tearing into. He screamed and begged me to help but I didn’t. I didn’t even run away. I just stood there as they tore him apart, limb from limb. When he was dead the Goblins turned towards me and I ran. My children were near the other side of the village so I ran to them. No one asked how he died, other than he did.”

“Sounds rough,” Cetina said. “Did you stay because of your children?”

“There wasn’t much choice. Not in a village that small. And…Well, we thought we were all alone. And no one was allowed past the mountains in case it drew attention. I could hardly run away with my children.”

Cetina nodded. “I can understand that.”

Lerato frowned but didn’t ask further.

“Well. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re the first people that I’ve told. And probably the last. Now…” Lerato rested her hands on her hips. “I’d like to know what it’s like to have a good man. One to help raise my children.”

“What?” Anton was slightly distracted by a reptile Beast-kin trying to sneak an extra biscuit. His glare was enough for him to back down.

“You’re cute, Anton, but not for me.” Lerato folded her arms underneath her chest. “I need a man that isn’t dallying with a whole bunch of women at once.” Her eyes raked over his body. “And someone with a bit more muscle on their bones.”

“Well…I know of at least one person where we’re heading that fits that bill.” Anton smiled. “Would…Would it change your opinion if I said he already had children?”

Lerato paused before shaking her head. “No. Not really. I don’t think I can be that choosy. Are they good kids?”

“Very good, very nice and kind children. He’s done a good job after his wife passed away.”

“Well, I’ll certainly have a chat with this man.” Lerato wore a sly smile. “Do you think he’ll like someone like me? I mean, I’m not that young. And I am a Seocurian. I was always told the people beyond the mountain had extremely light skin and they didn’t like to talk or even look at us. Would that be a problem?”

Anton’s eyes flicked over Lerato’s most obvious assets. He remembered one of the earliest conversations he had with Jonathan before he and Verona were together. Jonathan had expressed envy at Verona’s mother’s features, larger than what Verona had currently.

“I don’t think so.” Anton smiled. “I’m sure he’ll like you a lot. And his kids will get along great with yours too.”

“I’ll definitely think about it. Someone to cuddle up to at night. It could be fun.” Lerato chuckled weakly. “Can’t be any worse than it was.”

Anton smiled weakly and continued handing out food. There wasn’t much more to say.

---[]---

Even as the sun set the rain had not let up. It had weakened but continued to fall in great sheets outside. The food had been distributed, some looked a little hungry, mainly the larger Beast-kin like Rasha and Kristoff, who Anton sneaked a little extra food, and so had the cloth blankets. Unfortunately, there still wasn’t enough to go around. However, all the women and children were now protected, so long as they were willing to snuggle when they slept. A few of the men had cloaks. They tried to complain that they needed them more but Kristof quickly put them in their place. Despite being only slightly bigger than a human, and nowhere near as initially intimidating as Rasha, he was probably slightly stronger than Rasha. A stern look from him was all it took. But he was still incredibly nervous around Anton. Guards had been chosen and stationed near the door and barricades. They hadn’t seen any Goblins since returning but the threat was very real. Once the rain stopped they would be free to move unimpeded, and there was no way they would just leave them to pass through unmolested. Not after they had been the ones to invade their ruins.

With the sun setting Anton took up position near the burnt table and took out the communication pen and what was left of their paper. As it was starting to get dark he summoned a small fireball to illuminate the area. As he was almost finished done setting up Verona and Kal sat and sat down next to him.

“How was it?” Anton asked, gently patting their heads.

“Good.” Verona smiled. “It was nice to speak with them. Even if it was about the little things.”

Kal nodded. “It was. Marion’s doing very well.” She pulled herself close and rested her head on his shoulder. “She won’t say it but she’s really looking forward to getting to Atros. And able to live without being beaten every day.”

Anton scratched her hear. She tried to turn her head away and her ear pricked up but Anton simply followed it. She smiled when Anton scratched the very tip, something he knew that she enjoyed very much.

“I hope they all enjoy it.” He ruffled Kal’s hair. “After everything they’ve been through they deserve it.”

Verona pulled on his other hand. “Just by talking to the Beast-kin I can tell that they’re already happy. Can’t say the same about the Seocurian’s, but…there is something wrong about them.”

Verona waved a hand towards the Beast-kin side of the room. Now the Beast-kin were settling in for the night many simply stared at the roof with blank or worried eyes.

“For the first time in their lives they’re free,” Anton spoke very softly. “And I don’t think they really understand what that means. Even on the shup they thought they’d be dragged off to some plantation or workshop for the rest of their days. It’s going to be a massive shock to them.” He pulled Verona and Kal close. “Over the next few days they’re going to be going through a lot. They might start being weird and distant, as they come to grips with the reality that their past lives as slaves are gone for good. And they really don’t know anything different. I need the both of you to help guide them through it.”

“Not a prob.” Verona leant into Anton. “We’ve had it pretty good compared to them. Not sure what I can do but I’ll give it a go.”

Kal nodded very seriously.

“Thanks. Now, I need to tell Atros that we’re here and on the way. After that, I’ll be going to bed. I think we’ve got a guard watch just before dawn so we need to get all the sleep we can.”

“No fun stuff until we get back…” Verona sighed dramatically as she rose.

Kal lightly flushed and shook her head. “That and food are all that goes through her mind. I’m sure of it.”

They moved to get their sleeping gear from their horses. All four had been well behaved, not that they had much choice. Occasionally they would stand up only to peer outside and return to the original positions. No one approached them, Cetina’s larger warhorse stood protectively in front of the others. Anton didn’t understand the relationship between horses but they appeared to be friends, or whatever passed for friends for horses.

Anton set himself up on the table and summoned a small fireball for light. Many people looked towards him but none were going to question him. As he mentally prepared himself Kal and Verona returned with their sleeping gear. Theirs was considerably better than anyone else’s and attracted looks of envy. Verona casually turned around and their eyes shied away. She shrugged and rolled the packs out.

“When you’re done come join us.” Verona smiled. “I don’t want to go to sleep without you.”

“I’ll be done as soon as I can.”

Kal chuckled. “We aren’t going anywhere. But I will be glad to have my boots off for the night.”

She unfastened her boot as exposed her Beast-kin feet. Her claws clacked and scratched at the hard floor as she flexed her toes. Some of the Beast-kin looked on surprised, especially her friends. They sat nearby, preparing their own sleeping gear as best they could, but Eider had alerted them. Kal smiled as she stretched her body before slumping onto their sleeping pack. Verona did the same and tucked herself underneath the fur covers. A gap formed between the two, one reserved for him. He focused himself on the task at hand.

Hello. This is Anton. Are you receiving this?

Anton still disliked the odd way he introduced himself each time. Nevertheless, the communication pen began to move.

Hello Anton. This is Bertram. How are you? It's been a few days since we spoke and some of us were getting worried. Are you still on the ship?

No. We've landed safely and are currently taking shelter in a ruined city from a thunderstorm. There were a few Goblins lurking about but nothing that we couldn't handle.

That's a relief. How many Beast-kin did you bring? Zac and his builders have been working extremely hard, from dusk till dawn, but I don't know if it'll be enough.

We have about four hundred Beast-kin. But we have some extra people that are coming with us.

What?

We found a fishing village inside Dragon Tooth Bay, Jaka, still alive but under siege from Goblins. Turns out they are Seocurians. And it's making things really difficult.

Anton looked up and surveyed the warehouse floor, the small rift between the two groups clearly visible. They kept their backs to each other but some, a very rare few, were willing to speak to one another. It was more of a whisper but it was something. It was the young that were willing to talk, those more open to change and fastened with an insatiable curiosity for the unknown. Anton returned to the paper to find more writing coming through.

After what they've gone through I wouldn't doubt they would be furious. How are you keeping them from tearing each other apart?

Right now, literally. I'm also talking with representatives and I'm hoping that's enough. So far it's working. I’ve also shown that we’re powerful mages in our own right so they aren’t going to try anything with us here.

I hope you can keep it together. We all would like to see you again. We're starting to have some issues here.

What's wrong?

A number of things. We've had four more people receive the glyphs of the Old Gods. Two with the fire glyph and two with the lightning glyph. It was very scary to hear them scream in the middle of the night but they seem glad to have it. Since you aren't here I've told them not to use their powers under any circumstances. Since we don't have anyone capable of healing.

That's a really good idea, Bertram. We can't have anyone getting injured from those powers. If they do it'll make things a lot more difficult. But you said issues...

The Goblins have become far more aggressive lately. A few days ago they started to get so close to Atros that we had to stop anyone from going outside the wall in case they lured them in, stopping further construction of anything outside the outer wall. We can't get stone, coal or wood, though we managed to get a decent amount of each before it got too dangerous. Right now everyone is very nervous but we're holding on. My son wants to lead an attack on the Goblins to drive them off but I've told him to wait until you get back.

Any idea where they're coming from?

Dana found a small mountain to the northeast that appears to be the source. None from the south thankfully. Whatever they're doing in the old capital it's best not to disturb them. There were tens of thousands when you arrived. Who knows how many there are now.

I'm going to get these people to march as fast as they can but it'll still be a while before we get there. And I can't just leave them just in case something happens. Not after everything we've gone through to get them here.

I'll tell Jeff that you're on the way and to stay put. I might have to get Sybil to knock some sense into that boy but he'll listen.

Once we get back we'll find the main Goblin nest and destroy it. We're about to have a lot more people in Atros. And a lot more that can fight. You should see the muscles on some of the Beast-kin. And even the Seocurian fishermen will join in, once they get over losing their home. That might take a while.

I'll do what I can to make sure everything's good and ready. There is another thing. It appears Shawn and Jocelyn had a strange dream the a few nights ago. Shawn saw a woman with red hair and a red dress and Jocelyn an older man with a white robe and purple sash. At least that’s what they described.

Those are their Old Gods. What did they want?

They said that Tethra has sent you help and it’s about time they did the same. They mentioned Kal and it sounded like it would be like that.

I’m sure that Verona and Kal will be fine with that.

They did say that it wouldn’t be like that, unless you liked beards or stealing married women.

I don’t want either of those. But any more information about what that means?

No. They both said the dream was very hazy and over very fast. The dream hasn’t happened again and we don’t know what to make of it.

I’m not too sure either but keep alert, just in case something happens. So far they’ve been extremely helpful to us and I don’t doubt that now. Hopefully, it’s something good.

We’ll keep an eye out. Other than that everything is going well. We would like the Goblins to go away.

I bet you do. We’ll move as fast as we can but it’s still going to take some time. Do whatever you need to in order to stay safe.

You too. Tell us each night how you're travelling. It'll give the people hope.

Will do.

Anton laid down the pen. A breath had been locked within his lungs formed the moment goblins and Atros were mentioned. He slowly released it and began to roll up the paper.

Those creatures are always going to be a thorn in our side until we can eliminate all their nests. The other kingdoms and empires still struggle to wipe them out so it can't be easy. A few will likely survive a purge, everything goes quiet for a while and then they begin again. Damn things are like roaches like that just come out of the ground. I wonder if there are wolves or some other creature we could use to hunt then? Just release a pack and leave it at that…And what was that about help from the Old Gods? And why not just tell me?

Anton's mental musings were interrupted by a shuffle nearby. Kal was sound asleep, her mouth slightly agape revealing her set of canine teeth, but Verona was not. Her eyes spoke of the pleasant dream she had been awoken from and the desire to return.

"Are you done?" Verona asked in the faintest of whispers. She looked over the other sleeping Beast-kin and Seocurians. By now nearly everyone was still and silent. "You've been at that for a while."

Anton tucked the pen and paper away before extinguishing the flame. "Just finished. Seems that Atros is having a little trouble."

"They worried about the Beast-kin?" Verona hauled herself up onto an elbow. "They weren't too pleased about Kal when she first arrived. And she's basically human compared to some of them."

"Goblins." Verona tensed to his words. "They're stalking outside the walls and they can't safely get out."

"Little bastards."

"When we get back we'll deal with them. Sounds like they're coming from that small mountain we saw those Green Goblins running towards on the way through." Verona scrunched her eyes as she dredged up the memory. She nodded once. "And it'll be a good chance to show these new people how to fight them properly."

"That little battle wasn't enough?"

"Certainly not. Killing a few sickly Greens isn't much of a challenge. Especially for some of them."

Verona hummed and slumped lower as sleep tried to overtake her.

"There's not a lot that we can do here." She suppressed another yawn. "And we'll need all our strength tomorrow if the storm's let up by then. So, come to bed with us."

Anton kicked off his boots and slid in properly between them. Kal, in a sleep filled daze, pulled Anton's arm around her waist and up to her chest. His fingers didn't find leather armour, rather warm and extremely soft flesh. He lifted the covers slightly to see her armour undone. Verona took his other hand and directed it to her rear underneath her armour. She giggled as he gave it a little squeeze.

He took one last look around the warehouse. Those few on guard duty held their weapons close as their heads bobbed around, listening for any hint of a goblin attack through the rain. The Beast-kin girls had chosen a place near them to sleep, with Ulyaa in the middle and Eider and Irso either side. Rasha sat between the two groups with her mace resting on her legs. Her hooves had trouble getting a firm grip on the floor so she let them lie out in front of her. Her eyes were closed but Anton knew that she was awake, as her mind tried its utmost to process what had just happened to all of them. Cetina sat on the other side, her sword resting on the floor and a hand resting on the pommel. Her eye scanned the room constantly. When it reached him she smiled before continuing her scan, her hand moving closer to her sword. Everyone else he knew was asleep, including Luna. She had taken a spot underneath the table as her own, nestling deep between their packs. He didn't want to disturb her sleep so he left her be. Tomorrow would be an exhausting day.

Chapter 108. Vol 3 - Safety

Chapter 108:

Anton could barely hold back the delight on his face. After nearly two weeks of travel, they were finally nearing Atros. An hour away or two at the most. He began to recognise the scenery, the trees and shrubs that grew along the old grass covered road. For that he was glad.

Things were not going well.

A pair of small hands pulled at his waist.

“Is there any food?” A child’s voice asked him.

Anton turned back to see Lili looking up at him with pleading eyes. She, and her brother Seamus sat behind Anton as he rode along the column. The long days of travelling on foot had taken their toll on everyone but the children suffered the most. Their short legs made it very tiring to keep up with the faster and stronger adults. When Anton offered their horses for the children the Seocurian parents jumped at the chance. All Beast-kin were adults.

Since his saddle wasn’t particularly large Lerato’s children had to hold on to his sides. He wasn’t moving his horse particularly fast but he didn’t want them to fall off and hurt themselves.

“I’m hungry.” Lili rubbed her stomach.

“We didn’t have anything for breakfast.” Seamus quickly added. “And dinner was pretty small.”

Anton continued to ignore the pangs of hunger in his own stomach. Despite a truly valiant effort by Kal, searching and scouring the land for anything edible, last night they had run out completely. Kal had roamed far and wide, leading small hunts of animals and striping the few fruit trees left from the old kingdom bare, but it simply wasn’t enough. The Seocurians had put too much strain on their already limited supplies, and some of the larger Beast-kin needed to eat quite a bit. None were given much time to relax or dawdle during their journey.

“I know.” Anton glanced back with a smile. “I’m hungry too. But, if you can wait until we reach your new home, we’ll have lots to eat. Meat, bread, cheeses and veggies. More than you two could possibly eat at once.”

“Any fish?” Lili asked. “We’ve always had fish.”

“Actually…No. We don’t have fish in Atros. The nearest lake is quite far away. And there’s nasties crawling around it. Not to mention some of the fish in there are really big.”

“Really big,” Verona said as she rode alongside him. Just like Anton she had two Seocurian children on her horse. She smiled at the two children clinging to his back. “Huge things. Bigger than these horses. We had to fight in the water once and Anton let loose his lightning. It went bang!” Verona threw a hand back, nearly knocking a child off. “And then they were dead. Huge sprays of water everywhere. We never got the chance to see if we could eat them. We had other things to worry about then.”

“I remember most of them had bright stripes on their bodies.” Anton continued. “I think that means we aren’t supposed to eat them. I don’t want to meet the gods by eating a poisoned fish.”

Verona laughed. “That would be a bad way to go. But…How much further do we have until we reach Atros? There can’t be too much more. Surely.”

Anton glanced at the sun. “Should be around mid-day if we’re lucky. So maybe an hour if we’re slow. We’ve made very good time. Tonight we’ll be back to sleeping in our actual bed. With a chance to have a wash. We…We could all use one.”

“Yeah. I wonder what the Beast-kin think of us right now.” Verona slowed her horse. “I’ll pass on the message to Lerato and Ndale. They’ve been quite anxious for a little while now. Some of them are starting to think this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Not like they can go back,” Anton mumbled under his breath. “Okay. I’ll catch up with Kal and see how they’re doing.”

“Right. Where’s Cetina? Is she at the front as well?”

Anton scanned the column passing by. It stretched for some distance, thankfully retaining a relatively tight and straight line. This time the Beast-kin were at the front. It didn’t seem to matter to them, now, that the Seocurians were behind. A few were still very nervous but most were at least not hostile, many were even talking with the Seocurians. Nothing more than a few sentences at a time, it felt very similar to Kal’s introduction to Atros, but it was something.

“Yeah.” Verona pointed to the front of the column. “She seems to be taking to leading this convoy pretty seriously. Maybe there are some other reasons too but…”

Verona gave a final wave before dropping away. Anton pushed away the feeling, the feeling that Verona was up to something, and rode towards the front. The Beast-kin looked oddly at him as he passed, some in reverence but most still in disbelief. The two weeks of travel had not diminished that feeling amongst them, perhaps it had enhanced it. He hoped the looks of disbelief were not related to his relationship with Kal. So far any sort of puritans, those that disagreed with the mere existence of crossbreeds, doubly so with someone like Kal, had kept to themselves. And he intended for them to keep it that way.

“Let’s see what they’re up to,” Anton mumbled to himself. He glanced back to Seamus and Lili, still holding on tight. “I’ve been meaning to ask you two, as children, what do you think about the Beast-kin? And I want you two to be honest.”

“They…” Seamus began. “Some of them are really big. And some of them look a bit scary.”

“Any in particular?”

“Um…The ones that you talk to look a bit scary.” Lili said.

“Those girls are fine. And once you get to know them I’m sure that you’ll see that they’re really nice. Irso, the Drakeling, can be a bit rough but I can tell that she’s good underneath her hard and sometimes grouchy exterior. Sometimes she comes off like a grumpy old man.” Seamus and Lili chuckled. “But is it just how they look?”

Anton waited for the response but none came. When he looked back the children were more than a little ashamed.

“Mom told us to never care what a person looks like,” Lili said quietly. “But by what they do.”

“That’s very good advice.”

“I don’t think Dad was a good person.” Anton couldn’t respond. Lili sighed lightly and continued. “But I’ve never liked spiders or snakes, I’ve seen what they can do when they bite.”

“Are you afraid that Eider or Ulyaa’s going to bite you?”

“No…But…”

“I know it’s asking a lot but can you please give them a chance? Compared to what you’ve been through they’ve had it a thousand times worse.”

“We’ll try.”

Anton found Kal and Cetina at the front of the convoy with the Beast-kin girls in tow. They had kept their weapons but only Rasha and Irso held them with confidence. Eider and Ulyaa kept theirs out of sight as much as possible, like they were a reminder of something, but didn’t want to surrender them. Anton hadn’t had the chance to ask them further about it.

Kal smiled as she heard them approach. She signalled to the others and they visibly relaxed.

“How is everyone?” Anton asked.

“Good.” Kal smiled. “We’re so close now, aren’t we?”

“That we are.” Anton reached out and held Kal’s hand. “In the distance, I think I can see the forest on the ridgeline. Where you hid your gear when you first came to Atros?”

“Yeah…And where I found that Cobra and Seocurian.”

“A what?” Eider nearly stumbled, her clawed foot digging into the grass. Irso helped her right herself. Eider almost glared at Kal. “What did you say?”

Kal wriggled in her saddle. “When I first came to Atros I didn’t take everything with me. I hid most of it in a cave nearby. When I came back to it I found a Seocurian bounty hunter in there. She had been part of a group trying to track me for some time, for the bounty on my capture, and had a Cobra doing most of the hunting part. A normal human wouldn’t be able to track my scent but a Cobra could.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Did you kill the Cobra?” Rasha asked Kal. Anton found it a little odd that they were almost the same height. A very odd experience.

“No. It was already dead when I got there. Goblins had taken over the cave and eaten most of it. Only a part of the tail remained.”

Eider groaned and shook her head. “At least they aren’t suffering anymore.”

“But I did kill the Seocurian.”

“Good.” Eider almost scowled. Ulyaa bumped her side as Eider remembered who they were travelling with, a quick nod from Ulyaa was directed towards the children at Anton’s back. “Not that. The fact that they were hunting Kal.”

“Why?” Irso asked. “It’s a long way to come here for just you.”

“Three hundred gold coins,” Anton spoke flatly. “That’s why.”

“How much?” Cetina asked, utterly shocked. “That’s more than…”

“Shit.” Rasha laughed. “No wonder they wanted to get you. Rafiki really wanted you back. Sick fucker.”

Kal’s face drained of all colour. Her hands started shaking and sweat poured down her face. Anton reached out and held her steady until she recovered. He had never seen her this scared before, not even in the face of death.

“What?” Kal managed to squeak out. Her hands shook ever more violently and couldn’t hold the reins properly. Anton held the reins and her hands before she fell off. Her whole body trembled with unimaginable fear. Everyone looked at Rasha, who tried to shrink away.

“I…I.” Rasha looked at Anton, who nodded for her to continue. “When I was in that…That place and I wasn’t hallucinating from the drugs, I overheard some of the Seocurian’s talking about him. And you came up. They mentioned an increase to the bounty but I didn’t remember much else.”

Kal’s breath shortened as she forced herself to steady her racing heart. She looked at Anton and squeezed his hand. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I wasn’t ready to hear his name. I haven’t thought about him in so long. Brings back so many terrible memories.”

“Sorry Kal.” Rasha moved between Cetina and Kal, receiving an angry glare from the Bebbezarian. “I didn’t know.”

Kal patted Rasha’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I wasn’t ready for what I remembered. Marion didn’t mention him once when I was speaking with her. So…”

“Do you want to take a moment?” Anton asked.

Kal shook her head. “No. I’m fine. But I don’t want to talk about him.”

We’re definitely going to have to deal with him, and the other slavers, soon.

A squeak came from beside his leg. Luna, who had been dozing for some time, tried to wriggle out of her pack. The little white fur-ball had become quite popular with everyone and spent most of her time running about looking for scratches and pats. It may have been strange to say but Luna had been very valuable in keeping everyone together. Anton leant down and pulled her up. Luna tried to pull herself up his arm but her hooves couldn’t get a grip. Her rear claws, however, found purchase on his gloves and she slowly clambered up. Anton stared into her doey eyes as she tried to jump to Kal, her small wings desperately flapping in a vain attempt to fly. Anton found it unbelievably cute, so did the other girls, and passed her to Kal. Kal delicately held her before Luna dove into her lap. She pawed at Kal’s lap before she rested her head against her stomach. Her body glowed before she slumped down limp. She took a few breaths before nuzzling between Kal’s legs and dozing once again.

“You told me she could do that.” Kal was much more calm and the colour had returned to her skin. “That she can calm you down. This cute little thing…”

“Why can she do that?” Irso asked. “And how did you know that she could do that?”

“I’ve experienced it myself. And it’s…difficult to describe. Like a wave of calm washing over you. Very odd.”

“But why did she do it to you?” Irso raised a brow. “What could you possibly have to worry about that she would have to calm you down? Of all people? The person that could kill hundreds of Goblins without even raising a finger?”

“I have my own issues.” Anton smiled bitterly.

“I…” Irso looked away to the north.

Kal kept Luna in her lap and gently stroked her head as she retook the reins from Anton. Anton’s mind flickered to the ship and the scratchy memory that followed. He shook his head to dispel the creeping thought, he caught Cetina and Rasha looking oddly at him before sharing a quick glance.

“Actually.” Anton continued. “I wanted to ask the four of you something.”

The Beast-kin girls looked oddly at one another.

“I can make more silk.” Ulyaa proudly interjected, cutting Anton off. “When we stopped last night I wanted to see how much I could make at once.”

“That’s…How much did you make?”

“A big bundle.” Ulyaa gestured with her hands something slightly larger than a basketball. “And it was a lot better than what I first made.” She patted her spider backside. “I’m really getting better at making silk, at least now I sort of know what I’m doing.”

“I wonder what it feels like.” Anton mused. Ulyaa cocked her head slightly. “To decide what sort of silk you are going to make.”

“I thought I saw you leaving the camp one night.” Irso smiled. “And you had something in your hands.”

“I couldn’t exactly take it with us, Irso.” Ulyaa flicked hair off her face. “It would be really weird to take a big bundle of my silk with us. Where would I put it anyway?”

Irso shrugged dismissively.

“Is that all you can make in one go?” Anton asked.

“Yeah. After that, I just feel…Empty. I don’t know a better way to describe it. No matter what I do I can’t make any more. I just need to wait until I can do it again.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re feeling better, Ulyaa. I don’t want to use you Beast-kin like a resource but-”
Ulyaa raised her hand to stop him. “After what you’ve done for us I’m not complaining. I’ll make as much silk as I can. Just please don’t make that my only job…”

Ulyaa’s eyes squinted tightly for a single moment before she forced a warm smile. Every Beast-kin had some sort of horror story to tell.

Since the Seocurian slavers consider the Beast-kin nothing more than meat then they probably do something to the Arachnids too. Since they make lots of silk I’m guessing they found something to induce silk production. But something like that would wreak havoc on the body…

Anton looked at Ulyaa. He didn’t like the idea of someone as happy as her being chained down and forced to produce silk. That wasn’t going to happen to them, or any of the Beast-kin for that matter.

“Speaking of things we can do.” Eider began. “Since you healed me completely…” Eider opened her mouth, licking her forked tongue around her front two fangs. “I’ve been trying a few things as well.”

“You can’t squirt silk from your fangs.” Irso laughed. When Eider glared at her she threw up her hands. “I know that’s not what you meant. But I couldn’t help myself.”

Irso was quite an odd person. While she would defend her friends to the death if someone even touched she teased them quite regularly. Perhaps she considered herself the only one that could tease them? It was never serious and each time she backed off the moment they complained.

“What have you done?” Anton asked.

“Well, since I now have my fangs and after seeing Ulyaa with her silk, I was thinking I could do something like that. So a few nights ago I found out that I can make venom come out of my fangs.” She opened her mouth and picked at the end of a fang with her claws. “You can’t see it from there but there’s these little holes at the bottom. Anyway, I was able to make some venom the other day. Not that much. Maybe half of one of those small cups Verona has.”

“I saw her doing that.” Kal continued. “And I wanted to know…dangerous it was.”

“Since you’re a snake…Does that mean your venom is a paralytic or a neurotoxin? I think there are a few more types.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Eider flatly replied, her snake eyes devoid of emotion.

Anton saw everyone had the same blank expression, like he had suddenly slipped into a foreign language. In a sense he had. He lamented the comparatively extensive education he received from Earth. Of the people present only he and Kal could read, and he was sure that Verona and Cetina could read some words. Everyone else here was likely illiterate.

We need to set up schools once Atros is safer. A good education is vital to a strong nation. Hell, even the ability to read on a basic level would give us a tremendous advantage. Most of the people in Graterious and Qaiviel can’t. Same probably goes for the other lands too. That stifles innovation and development. And Atros will need that edge to compete.

“Anton?” Kal’s soft voice broke him out of his mental wanderings.

“Sorry Kal. Just got caught up in my thoughts.”

“Does that happen often?” Rasha asked.

“Sometimes.” Anton smiled at the Blue Minotaur. “But my mind doesn’t truly wander amongst the clouds. I am thinking of important things.”

“Sure.” Rasha didn’t sound convinced.

“Anyway. There are different types of venom that act on different parts of the body. There are venoms that attack the heart and circulatory system, so your blood and muscles are damaged. The other one targets your brain and nervous system. That means you can’t control your muscles but they might still be fine. I think there’s some that just cause rots but that might be spiders…” He looked at Ulyaa. “Do you have fangs?”

Ulyaa shook her head. She opened her mouth and revealed a human set of teeth. Nothing that could inject venom.

“I don’t know what mine does really.” Eider shrugged. “As I said on that boat of yours, I’m probably the only adult Cobra that has their fangs.” She glanced at Kal. “I doubt that one you found had theirs.”

“We tried to figure it out but we didn’t know what it did,” Kal said. “Only that it works.”

Anton felt his brows furrow. “And how did you find that out?”

Eider looked a little embarrassed. “Two nights ago, when Kal caught the last of those Rabbits, she didn’t kill them all at once.”

Kal looked away when Anton shot her a look.

“I think Kal had the same idea you did.” Eider continued, her embarrassment still present. “Instead of searching for a use for Ulyaa’s silk, she tried to find some use of my venom.”

“So why are both of you embarrassed?” Anton asked.

“Well…” Kal scratched Luna’s ears. “I didn’t know what sort of poison, I mean venom, Eider had. So…we had to test it.”

One of Eider’s hands started scratching her hood, picking at the scales. “Yeah. That was really weird. I had to open my mouth really weirdly to bite the rabbit. Then I could feel its fur on the inside of my mouth, and then it moving about and trying to escape.” Eider stuck out her tongue. “That was…That was gross.”

“When did you manage this? I think we would have noticed you doing that.”

“We did it really far away from everyone,” Kal explained. “But, you remember the Kobold poison?”

“Oh yes.” Anton smiled. “Really nasty green shit. I could swear it was bubbling when we harvested it. You got some on your face when you fired that arrow.”

Kal winced. “That stuff burned just to touch it. Anyway, I’m not really sure what Eider’s venom did. The rabbit struggled for a bit and then it fell limp. It was very quick.”

“If it’s that fast acting it sounds like it affects the nervous system.” Anton nodded. “If anything it sounds like it worked even faster than the Kobold poison.”

“I thought it would be good to have.” Kal began to speak very quickly as her fingers began to fidget. She was panicking for some reason. “Since we can’t get any more Kobold poison, and I lost the last of it in Qaiviel, and I thought that I could do some good-”

Anton reached and held Kal’s hand. “Take a deep breath Kal. I’m not worried or upset. I’m sorry if I came across that way but I’m not. I’m very impressed.”

Kal’s tail began to sway as her face softened to a smile. Anton saw Irso mocking his words while Eider and Ulyaa held back a smile of their own. When Irso noticed he was looking the expression faded to a smile.

“I presume you want to use that on our arrows? Just like the Kobold poison?”

Kal nodded. “Yes. I want to use the lightning and fire arrows to make money to buy more Beast-kin. And you and I are the only ones that can make them.”

“Not to mention they take a lot of mana. Even for you.”

“Yes. So I was thinking that we use Eider’s venom on our arrows. That way every arrow would kill an enemy, and it’ll be much easier to replace them. Just get some more venom and arrows.”

“I like the idea. I’m sure we can mix that with some poisonous herbs and other things that you know of, just in case the target has an immunity to Cobra venom.”

“I know a few things that could work.” Kal smiled and chuckled. “I’m glad that I can keep helping you. Beyond making you travel all the way to Seocuria to rescue my mother.”

“You won’t be getting fire from me.” Irso played with her hair. “Though I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

Rasha raised a blue hand. “I’ve wanted to know something.” Rasha frowned at him. “Beyond being…together, with Kal, why would you go so far to help us? We aren’t exactly soldiers. We’re just slaves.” Rasha looked at her large mace. “We’ve barely used these things and just that one time was pretty terrifying. I don’t know how much help we can really be to you so why go through so much effort to save us?”

Everyone, even Kal, looked at him, wondering what the answer would be.

Don’t mess this up. You have a very good chance to make them strong, if not permanent, allies, and if you get it wrong you’ll have to work much harder to get there. Honesty is best.

Anton waited a moment before answering. The Beast-kin girls didn’t know what to make of it and looked at each other confused.

“I won’t deny that Kal is a major reason why I did it.” Anton began. “When I first heard about the existence of Beast-kin I didn’t know anything about you, other than that you were slaves. Then I heard from Kal what sort of lives you had. I must admit that we didn’t drop everything and run to your rescue, but the moment that Atros was safe we did everything we could to get to Seocuria as fast as possible. I dislike the idea of slavery, from just about every angle, and I know that former slaves will work with me in my future endeavours. Especially if I plan to keep freeing more Beast-kin.”

“You what?” Rasha said, her ears twitching.

“Did you think that I was just going to have a few hundred Beast-kin freed and call it quits?”

“I…I don’t know.” Rasha looked at the other Beast-kin. “Freeing a few hundred at a time like this…”

“Not hundreds. I intend to free thousands at a time.”

“Anton,” Cetina said quietly. “I think you know this but The Snowberry isn’t big enough to hold that many. And buying another ship of that size will be very expensive. More than what you had and I…I don’t know if I want a ship or not.”

“Not to mention that they’ll start wondering where you’re sending them,” Kal added. “They’ll want to see the fake plantation that we don’t have. Then it’ll be impossible to buy more.”

“Who said anything about buying them?” Now they all frowned. Anton reached out and held Kal’s hand again. “I intend to use Tethra’s powers to bring thousands of them here at once.”

A faint realisation washed over Kal’s face. “You mentioned something like that in Porswea.” Kal’s eye flickered to Cetina. “You said you had a plan to use our powers to make something called a…A…”

“A portal.” Anton continued. “A way to move from one place to another instantly.”

“You can do that?” Eider and Ulyaa asked simultaneously.

“We’re going to try it out once we get back to Atros and things settle down. Tethra’s power uses so much more mana than the others and even Kal, who’s better at using the power than I am, still uses quite a bit. We couldn’t exactly be in Graterious or Seocuria, or even Atros, without mana.”

“Considering that’s the way you fight…” Rasha nodded.

“But that still means…” Kal’s face softened. “You’re not going to buy them. Are you?”

“What?” Irso asked. The others held similar expressions.

“Exactly. Buying the Beast-kin will take too long and we won’t be able to buy the thousands, the tens or hundreds of thousands that need to be freed. Instead, we’re just going to take them.”

“Really?” Rasha looked at Eider and Ulyaa. “You’re really going to break out every Beast-kin in Seocuria?”

“Yes.”

Rasha stared into his eyes. Slowly she nodded. “It doesn’t look like you’re lying.”

“But I’m going to need your help to get it done.”

“Why?” Eider asked. “We aren’t as strong as any of you.”

“Because I don’t know where to go.” Anton shrugged. “And I know that it’s been some time since Kal has been in Seocuria so the information might be out of date. I need someone with more recent knowledge.”

“Most of the Beast-kin have been moved to the larger slave houses,” Irso answered. “At least in the big cities. They’re just as heavily protected as the one in Danafra, maybe a bit less, but there’s lots of plantations and factories that hold slaves. Sometimes it’s just a dozen. They can’t afford to move them all the time. But they deserve rescuing just like the others. Don’t they?”

Irso almost scowled at him.

“I intend to free them all. But we will be hitting the smaller places first as practice. Then moving onto the larger slave houses.” Irso’s shoulders dropped and her eyes looked away. “I can’t save everyone, Irso, so we’ll do the best we can.”

“You managed to save us.” Eider laughed happily. “And I thought I was going to die in a few days. Everyone that you save will be eternally grateful.”

“We’ll help however we can,” Ulyaa added, Rasha nodded.

“On each trip we’re probably going to need to bring a few Beast-kin with us, just to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Why?” Rasha asked.

“If you were just broken out of your slavery by humans, would you trust them?”

“No.” Rasha chuckled. “Probably not.”

“But that does bring me to the next point. Doing that will mean there’ll be fighting. The Seocurian slavers aren’t just going to let us walk in and take them. So…”

“We’ll need to be ready to fight.” Irso swung her mace about. “I don’t have a problem with it. If anything I’ll be glad to crack a few of their skulls.”

“Same,” Rasha added. “After what they’ve done to us all.”

Anton saw Eider and Ulyaa didn’t look as confident or eager to potentially return.

“Eider. Ulyaa. I can see that you two don’t seem so enthused about that.”

The Cobra and Arachnid looked at each other. Anton felt strange that he saw shame on their faces.

“I…” Ulyaa frowned. “I really don’t know if I can fight and kill again. I just…”

“It was the blood.” Eider continued. “The blood and the smell. The feeling of the bones breaking underneath the swing of that mace. The nights afterwards I kept thinking about it. I thought it would be easier…We’ve all dreamt of killing the slavers…”

“It’s not something that you get used to eventually,” Cetina said. “My first kill was a Goblin as well. It was horrible. But you get used to it. You need to, if you’re going to survive.”

“I don’t know if I want to get used to it.” Ulyaa smiled awkwardly.

Cetina reached down and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anton was a little too eager to put you into battle without any sort of training. But if you get some training and practice it won’t be so bad.”

“I still don’t know.” Ulyaa scratched her arms.

“It doesn’t have to be right up close,” Anton said. “We’ve got a fair few bows and crossbows. I’m sure that you could use those. But, I should have said this in the beginning, but I don’t need everyone to be soldiers. I want you to be able to defend yourselves at the very least. If Atros comes under assault I need to know that every man and woman, Beast-kin and human and whatever else we end up getting, can fight and defend themselves.”

“I…I don’t think that’s so bad.” Ulyaa smiled.

“It’s a lot easier to defend your home than to attack someone else’s,” Kal added, Cetina agreed.

“I think that we’ll take that training.” Eider chuckled, turning to Cetina. “Do you think we’d be strong enough to use a bow?”

Cetina motioned for both Eider and Ulyaa to raise their arms. They weren’t sticks but they weren’t particularly strong. “Probably not. Not like Kal. You could draw the bow but it wouldn’t go that far.”

Kal rubbed her upper arms. Anton knew that she wasn’t as strong as someone like Rasha but she had an impressive build on her, one that was only growing as time went on.

“What about a crossbow then?”

Cetina looked at Anton. “We have these metal latches on the crossbows so it’s easier to load. That shouldn’t be a problem, though they were pretty heavy when I held one.” Anton smiled. “I’m glad I have my magic to fight instead.”

“Could I use one?” Rasha asked. “A crossbow?”

Anton looked over her large muscular frame. “I think you could use a ballista easily.”

Rasha chuckled. “I’m not sure what that is…”

“Anyway, despite all this talk I don’t want any of you to be fighting outside of Atros just yet. You’ve only just been freed from slavery, not to mention the Seocurian fishermen who have just had to flee their homes, and you’re going to need some time to adjust. For now, you’ll only be defending the city rather than attacking Seocurian slave houses or Goblins nests. At a later date, if you change your minds, you can fight beyond the city and help push back the beasts and monsters infesting this land. Right now it’s just myself, Verona and Kal. And I think that Cetina might be joining us from now on.”

Cetina nodded proudly, Anton caught her eye watching Rasha then glancing towards him. When she caught his eye she snapped her head forward. Anton heard Kal make a noise but it was difficult to understand.

“Um…” Seamus’s hands gripped his hands tight on Anton’s side. “Eider?”

“Yes?” Eider spoke flatly as she turned to the Seocurian child.

Seamus winced as Eider’s snake eyes locked onto his.

“How does your tail work?” He squeaked out. Eider cocked her head. “Yours swirls about when you walk. Does…How does it feel? Is it like a leg?”

Eider ran a hand along her thick tail, even Kal reached for hers.

“Kind of.” Eider smiled, though she relaxed her face when she realised it might be a bit intimidating to see her sharp, needle-like teeth. “I guess you could say it’s like that. It’s really hard to describe to someone that doesn’t have one.”

“Huh.” Seamus watched each of the Beast-kin girls tails swish through the air behind them.

“You’re just staring at their butts,” Lili said quietly.

“No I’m not!” Seamus said loudly.

The girls laughed as Seamus turned red, as red as his skin would let him. Seamus pouted but he kept stealing glances.

“Why are you so big Rasha?” Lili asked. “No one else is as tall as you.”

“Well…” Rasha scratched her horn. “It’s the way I was born.”

“And you eat so much,” Irso added.

Rasha scoffed. “It’s not because of that. Minotaurs are tall and large Beast-kin. So are Oni’s. So I need a lot more food than you just to keep moving. And I can’t eat meat so I have to eat even more than an Oni would. Not to mention the Seocurians made us do all the heavy stuff.”

“How strong are you?”

Rasha smiled as she swung her large metal mace effortlessly through the air.

“Easy!” Cetina yelled. One of Rasha’s swipes came dangerously close to her horse. It bucked slightly before Cetina pulled on the reins and calmed it down. “Careful where you’re swinging that bloody thing. What if you had hit my horse?”

“Sorry!” Rasha stepped away, nearly crashing into Eider and Irso. “Sorry.” Rasha sighed and blinked hard. “I hate being this big sometimes. I guess I shouldn’t be near others.”

“Rubbish.” Anton waved his hand. “Just…Just be more careful when you do something. No one thinks you would do it on purpose, but you have to remember that you’re incredibly strong and could injure someone without even trying.”

“Sorry, Anton.”

“You don’t need to apologise to me.”

“Sorry, Cetina.”

“It’s alright.” Cetina shook her head. “If you’re going to be a soldier you’re going to need to watch that.” Cetina looked at Anton. “Rasha asked me a few things about-”

Lightning rumbled in the distance. Everyone stopped speaking and looked to the west, the sky was blue and clear. Anton’s heart dropped. It was from Atros. Kal looked at him with fear drenching her face, the others looked slightly confused but they quickly understood their concern. Anton looked back to see a horse thundering towards them. Verona flew past the convoy before skidding to a halt beside him, tufts of grass flying in front of her protesting horse.

“I know that wasn’t you.” Verona breathed incredibly hard. “That was-”

“Yes.” Another rumble of lightning came from the west. “Everyone’s been told not to use or test their magic out until we get back, and Jocelyn’s the only one that knows how to use lightning. And not that well either. And I told her to use it only if things were life and death.”

Verona paled as another two rumbles echoed through the air. People in the convoy were starting to become deeply concerned as murmurs began to spread.

“Sorry you two.” Anton turned to Seamus and Lili. “I need you two to get off right now.”

Both looked down. It was a decent drop for someone so small.

“I’ll take them.” Rasha held her mace underneath her arm and picked up the children. They were essentially weightless in her hands as she moved them to her shoulders. “Just hang on tight you two. And don’t pull on my hair.”

They nodded as their small brown hands entwined with Rasha’s red hair.

“Anton. Blood.” Verona took out her blade.

“I thought you wouldn’t be fine with a Seocurian touching you.” Anton felt Verona drawing up the blood.

Rasha shrugged. “They’re just kids. And none of these people are the slavers. Though I will say that it’s not exactly easy at times.”

“Thanks. I need you four to look after the convoy and keep them moving towards the west.”

“Where exactly?” Eider asked.

“Just follow us.” Anton gripped the reins tight. “Be quick but don’t run. Cetina? I want you to stay here and keep everyone safe and moving. After all this I don’t want any of them to be killed by a stray Goblin.”

“I…Right.” Cetina nodded seriously. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

“Ready!” Verona said.

Anton healed his hand. “Not this time. We can handle them by ourselves. I need you to keep everyone safe. Understood?”

“Yes, Anton. I’ll keep them safe.”

“The same for you four. I need you to keep them safe as well.”

“Can do.” Irso chuckled. “You three need to get moving.”

“Right.” Anton was about to whip the reins when he saw Luna still in Kal’s lap. “Cetina? Can you take Luna for a bit?”

Cetina reached over and picked up Luna. She struggled for a moment but quickly gave up when she realised she couldn’t escape Cetina’s grasp. Anton glanced at Verona and Kal, both were ready to charge. With a quick whip of their reins they darted towards the west as more lightning rumbled through the sky.

---[]---

Anton had never forced his horse to ride as hard or fast as he did now. The older horse, more used to trotting and short bursts of running, was struggling to maintain its speed. The distance to the ridgeline appeared to be unending, his fear and panic only made time move more slowly. His heart pounding in his head as more and more rumbles came from the west. The very thought of Goblins pouring into Atros, when they had accomplished so much and had come so far, made his stomach turn.

Don’t think like that. You can hear the lightning, so that means they’re still fighting.

He glanced to the side and saw Verona and Kal sharing the same thought. Atros was their home and their future, in more ways than one, and they weren’t going to lose it. Not now. Not ever.

After nearly ten minutes of endless and unending fear, the lightning blasts becoming more frequent, they reached the ridge and could see Atros. Anton’s heart summersaulted in his chest. Hundreds upon hundreds of Green and Yellow Goblins were swarming the outer wall of Atros, one that hadn’t existed when he left, desperately climbing over one another to reach the top of the four-meter stone wall. He didn’t need his eye enhancements to see the Atros villagers hiding behind the wall, smacking down any Goblin that reached the top and Avery’s archers pummelling the side of the main attack. It was impossible to see who was where but two villagers stood out. Small wooden towers had been built along the wall, archers manning them fired volley after volley into the Goblins, and two people, very short people, leant over the edge of one. A ball of lightning, about the size of one of Anton’s lightning bombs, appeared above one before it zipped into the Goblins. It exploded in a flash of light, throwing dozens upon dozens of Goblins into the air before another one appeared. Beside that a ball of flame, roughly the same size, emerged and crashed into the Goblins. This time they didn’t fly away. The Goblins simply burst into flames and melted where they stood.

“Shawn and Jocelyn are still alive.” Anton smiled. “So is everyone else. Come on, we need to help. Kal. How many special arrows have you got?”

“A few.” Kal nocked a fire arrow. “About five of each.”

Anton whipped the reins and they rode towards Atros at full speed.

“How good are you at firing from horseback?”

“I’ve never really tried.” Kal chuckled nervously. “Do you really want me to try now?”

The Goblin’s attacking the wall surged again as another wave of lightning and fire magic tore through their numbers. Even with the constant magical attacks it made no difference to the tide crashing against the wall.

“No. When you get into range stop and shoot at the back of their little army. That’ll turn their attention away from Atros. I’ll use my magic and then Verona can finish them off.”

“None of those little bastards are going to get away with trying to destroy my home.” Verona spat through barred and creaking teeth. “Not one is going to make it out of here alive. And then we’re coming for you.”

Verona charged and Anton pushed his horse hard to catch up. As they approached Atros he saw some of the villagers, those on the extreme ends of the wall and away from the fighting, pointing towards them. It was difficult to see but something rippled through the villagers. They knew who was coming.

As they neared the range of Anton’s magic a few Goblins at the rear noticed and pointed towards them. An arrow flew overhead and struck the rear of the Goblins, exploding in a ball of flame. Another arrow flew past, this time showering the Goblins in a flash of lightning. Anton looked back to see Kal slowing down with another arrow ready to fire. Anton summoned a line of tethered lightning bombs and threw them straight at the Goblins. The lightning bombs, connected by a thin strand of lightning, hurtled forward. The Goblins all but disappeared in a flash of light. Anton had almost forgotten how powerful tethering was. His horse bucked and rebelled at the sudden blast of light and noise, almost throwing him off, but he managed to hold on. Verona summoned the blood shards over her head and readied to fling them forward. Most of the Goblins were dead, giant holes had been gouged into the charred ground once again, but were many still alive. The Goblins forming the ladder collapsed and spilled out into the confused and directionless horde as they suffered another volley of arrows and bolts. A strange chirp rang throughout the remaining Goblins as they turned as one and fled towards the northeast.

“You aren’t fucking getting away from me!” Verona threw her blood shards with a flick of her wrist.

The small shards tore through the Goblins. Every fresh cut, every drop of blood released, exponentially added to the slaughter. The blood shards multiplied, like an explosion of ice, before Anton couldn’t see anything more than a swirling cloud of red shards peppered by the screeches of the Goblins and the sound of flesh tearing asunder. Verona didn’t appear to have much control of the hundreds of blood shards, many of the shards simply flew about without hitting anything. He couldn’t see much strain on Verona’s face as, with a flick of her wrist, she sent the blood shards up into the air. The bloody remains of the Goblins fell lifelessly to the ground. Most didn’t have any skin, just their red muscles and blood stained bones exposed to the air drenched with uncontrolled blood. Verona veered towards the few that managed to escape. None made it more than thirty meters from the wall.

“Little bastards.” Verona smiled as she returned to Anton’s side. “I think I got all of them.”

Kal approached hesitantly. “Verona, there isn’t a single one with any of its skin left on.”

Verona frowned as she looked over the corpses. She chuckled at the sight. “I was kind of pissed.”

Anton looked to Verona, his body turning cold. "Verona! Don't move!" Anton spat out, holding his hand up. “Whatever you do don’t move an inch. Stay perfectly still.”

"Why?" Her body instantly turned rigid. "Did I get hit by something? I can't feel anything. Did they have an archer with them?"

Anton took a piece of cloth from Luna's pack, moved his horse alongside hers and wiped her face.

"You had a huge trail of blood about to go into your mouth." Anton frowned as he gently wiped upwards. Verona tried to pout, at being treated like a child, but the fear of the blood touching her lips was palpable.

“Fuck,” Verona mumbled as Anton gave a final wipe. “I can’t believe I could have almost lost myself there. If I got just a single drop of that stuff touched my lips…” Verona shuddered. “I’m not going to become like I did with the Kobolds. Especially since I’ve been doing so well since then.”

Anton didn’t want to recall the incident; how it felt and how another drop of blood would have driven her to the edge of insanity. “Before you need to use your power again we’ll have that sorted. I’m not going to lose you to whatever pull Jira’s power has. Something like Kal’s mask. But better.” Kal playfully frowned. “A better one for both of you. That mask draws so much attention as it is.”

“Thanks, Anton.” Verona lent over and kissed his cheek.

“Are you three done?” A voice shouted from the wall. Anton looked up to see Jeff, in full metal armour with sword in hand, smiling wildly as he leant over the edge. “If you three want to keep cuddling or whatever we’re more than happy to keep watching.”

Anton felt his face heat up slightly. Verona and Kal did the same.

“I intend to keep going once we have some more time,” Anton yelled back. Verona laughed and Kal smiled and shook her head. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”

Anton motioned for them to approach the wall.

“Me too. Things were getting a little dangerous back there. But everything’s fine now.”

“Any injuries? I’ve still got lots of mana.”

“Lots of cuts, some bad ones, but nothing life-threatening. No deaths as well. So that’s good.”

“When we saw the Goblins I feared the worst.”

“They decided to start getting really close this morning and finally decided to attack.” Jeff laughed as he looked at the tired villagers beside him. “But we can talk about that good stuff when you’re inside…Um. Dad said there were meant to be a whole lot of you. And…”

“When we heard the lightning we rode ahead to see what was happening. They’re still back towards the east. Quite a few of them.”

“I’m actually quite interested in seeing what a full Beast-kin looks like. I don’t know what I’ll say when I see one but if they’re anything like Kal then I know we’re all going to get along just fine.”

“I’m probably the most human one of them.” Kal smiled.

“And they’re all good people.” Anton continued. “Though some might be a bit rough around the edges. A lifetime of slavery…”

“Irso?” Verona snickered.

Jeff raised his hand to his brow and looked eastward. “I can’t see them. But Dana’s back here with her riders. I was going to send her out once the Goblins breached the walls but that’s not really a problem anymore. They’ll go with you and make sure everyone gets to Atros safely.”

“Thanks, Jeff.” Anton turned his horse around. “We need to head back and make sure nothing happens. Tell everyone that we’ve arrived and be ready to welcome a lot of new people that are going to be very nervous and jittery. Oh, and get lots of food ready. We haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Can do. Good to have you three back!”

Jeff gave a waved before issuing orders to the villagers. Despite being tired and wounded they followed his instructions without anything more than a few disgruntled groans and grunts. As Anton was just about to turn away he saw Shawn and Jocelyn in the tower, waving frantically at them. Their tired and haggard faces, covered in soot and grime, beamed with pride. He returned the wave and set off towards the east. They would need to be rewarded later. To the south of Atros, wood groaned and grumbled, a large wooden gate opened and villagers on horseback thundered out. They were dressed for war, even the horses, and ran to intercept them. Dana rode at the front, finally a smile on her face.

“Good to see you three back.” She spoke dryly as she slowed and rode beside them. “Many of us were starting to take bets, to see if you were going to run away for good this time. We thought you were going to last time.”

Anton smiled. “And both times we’ve come back. With lots of goodies and people.”

“Yes…That was the other bet.” Dana signalled her riders to ride forward. “Last time, when you went to Qaiviel, you left with one and returned with two. What about this time?”

Anton chuckled. “Just Verona and Kal.” He didn’t see Kal and Verona share a glance. “Although, on a different matter, we do have lots of new faces. Some of them look…quite different.”

“Bertram tried to describe a few of the Beast-kin types you mentioned.” Dana looked at Kal. “Are there many that look like you?”

“My mother, I guess. But the Cobra’s, reptiles and arachnids do look so much different.”

“If they’re anything like you I think everyone’s going to be fine.” Kal chuckled nervously at Dana’s words. “No one is going to try anything to the Beast-kin. Not with Anton, the man who wiped out an army, here.”

Kal smiled. “That’s what I hope.”

“So how did you treat my horses?” Dana reached over and patted Verona’s horse’s neck. “They haven’t been too rough on you, have they?”

“Who are you talking to?” Anton chuckled as Dana shot him a flat look. “They’ve been taking very good care of us, and we’ve been trying our best not to stress them out. They aren’t the youngest of horses but they’ve been amazing. Compared to Cetina’s they’re pretty old, but they manage to keep up with that warhorse pretty easily.”

Dana scoffed. “We’ll see if it’s actually a warhorse in a bit.”

“It’s pretty big.” Verona nonchalantly added. “Bigger than ours. But it seems she looks out for ours and is quite protective of them.”

“What was this that I heard about Seocurian’s being a part of your group? Don’t they hate each other?”

“It’s a strange story.” Anton smiled. “We’ll tell you all once we get back safely to Atros.”

Dana accepted his answer. Her riders had already reached the small crest by the time they arrived. Their faces were coated with a thin veneer of worry, one that made Anton feel cold for a second, but it faded when he looked past them. The convoy lay only a few hundred meters away and were moving very quickly. Cetina, on her large warhorse, ran along the column, her head darting about and watching for any attack. The Beast-kin girls, most notably Irso and Rasha, led from the front and did whatever they could to cheer them forward. Cetina spotted them first. She waved with a smile on her face and rode towards them.

“Anton!” Cetina yelled. The faces of the convoy visibly lightened, their tense shoulders relaxed. They weren’t abandoned to the wilderness. When she arrived her horse was slightly out of breath and so was she, a tinge of exertion on her face. “I was starting to think the worst had happened. When all that lightning rumbled in the distance and then it stopped…well, I feared the worst.” She looked back to the convoy. “I think we all did.”

“Who’s this?” Dana asked. Her eyes trailed over Cetina, then to her horse.

“This is Cetina. A Bebbezarian that we met in Graterious. Suffice to say that a number of things happened and now she’s travelling with us. She’s a master with a sword and shield, and she knows a bit about haggling too.”

“Not that much.” Cetina chuckled. “I just did the best I could.”

“Well, I think you lied to me a little bit Anton, but…What’s that?” Dana pointed to Cetina’s lap. “What is that?”

“Oh, that’s Luna.” Anton motioned for Cetina to come closer. Her horse almost loomed over theirs. Dana’s appeared a little taken aback but Cetina’s didn’t seem to notice. “She’s a Peryton we found on the way.”

Cetina passed over Luna. Luna kicked and squirmed, her wings madly flapping about along with her legs, before she realised she wasn’t going to be let go. When she saw Anton her face turned into a smile, what could pass for a smile on her doey face. Anton gave her a small scratch before passing her to Dana.

Dana held Luna like Verona did the first time, like a live grenade. “Wow. She’s really soft.” Luna started scratching as all her weight was going through her shoulders. “Okay…She’s got claws on her legs.”

“Yes.” Anton took her from Dana. “But she’s not nasty, but she might get a little upset if you hold her like that. I would too. Is that how you’re going to handle your child?”

“My child?” Dana’s rapidly blinking face almost appeared flustered.

“Well, I mean that you and Raston are together. It’s probably going to happen sometime. I mean, you two are doing it. Right?”

Dana’s face grew increasingly red. Her riders started to laugh, instantly silenced by a furious glare. She took several deep breaths to calm herself.

“We haven’t talked about it yet,” Dana spoke slowly and kept her voice calm. “But it is a possibility.”

“I know that you’ll be a great parent.” Anton smiled. “But right now we need to get everyone into Atros. They’re tired, hungry and eager for rest. Cetina? I take it that nothing happened once we left?”

“No. Everyone got a little nervous when you left. I think Ulyaa said that she saw something moving in the grass but I couldn’t see anything. A few of the Seocurians and Beast-kin said the same thing.”

“It might have been a few Green Goblins lurking about.” Anton mused. “I doubt they would be coordinated enough for every Goblin to attack Atros at once. Probably a few that wandered off from the main group.”

“It’s possible.” Dana had recovered her normal cold demeanour. “When things got to the point that we had to bring everyone in and close the gates there were a lot just wandering about. I doubt that all of them attacked Atros.”

“We’re going to have to deal with them before we go onto the next stage of our journey. Good work, Cetina. Thank you for keeping them all safe.”

Cetina gave a curt nod. “Thank you. How much further is it?”

“Just over our shoulders,” Dana said dryly.

Cetina moved her horse around the riders. She gasped and a smile crept over her face. “To think there’s actually a place out here…We’ve seen nothing but grass, trees and ruins for so long. I was beginning…”

“Were you actually doubting our journey?” Anton asked, Verona chuckled and slyly nodded.

Cetina furiously shook her head. “No. Of course not. But without food this morning, and very little the night before…”

“I can assure you that we have food aplenty in Atros.” Anton looked at Dana, who nodded. “Far more than what you’re used to. Lots of meat and veggies, enough so that you’ll actually have a full stomach for once. Everyone will.”

Cetina chuckled. “I sort of forgot what it felt like to be hungry. You three always did eat well.”

“A lot of the nights it was just Kal’s hunting and cooking. Very good cooking at that.”

Kal smiled and tried to fight down a slight flush, her freed tail swaying lightly from behind her cloak.

“And I see that Kal is not hiding herself anymore.” Dana smiled as she looked at Cetina. “I bet that was a bit of a shock.”

“It…It was.” Cetina looked away. “They didn’t exactly tell me…”

Dana threw Anton a questioning brow. He waved her down, there would be time to explain every little detail later. They watched the convoy slowly approach as Dana and her riders became increasingly more nervous. Their hands tightened on their reins and some on their weapons. He didn’t begrudge their nervousness around creatures, people, which looked so different to them. Especially the Beast-kin girls; Rasha’s blue skin, horn and sheer size, Ulyaa’s lower spider body, Eider’s snake eyes, scales and hood while Irso stuck an uncanny middle between Eider and a human. Kal was far more acceptable as she was almost human. Almost.

“Bertram didn’t say they’d look like this,” Dana said quietly. “Do you think it was a good idea to bring them so soon? I don’t know if everyone’s ready for them.”

Anton huffed as he scratched Luna’s head. “They’re going to have to get used to it. Besides, there’s no way to gently slide them into this.” He glanced at Kal, eagerly awaiting sight of her mother. “Not after we actually managed to rescue some very important people.”

“So you did manage to get her mother?” Dana smiled. “That’s good. You’re going to have to tell us all the story of how you managed that. Can’t imagine it was easy.”

Anton chuckled. He didn’t want to tell her that they basically walked in and bought her. If luck wasn’t on their side they could have still been in Seocuria with a few hundred slaves bottled up on a ship while they searched for Marion. Not a good thought, and one that Anton was thankful for that they didn’t have to deal with.

“Are we close?” Rasha asked loudly, Seamus and Lili still clinging to her head. “Carrying these two is starting to get a little tiring.”

“Your arms are bigger than they are.” Irso snidely said. “What could you possibly be complaining about?”

Eider chuckled, her tongue licking the air. “You should carry us instead. That’ll give you a proper workout.”

“Anton, please stop them.” Ulyaa pleaded, an exaggerated expression of exhaustion on her face. “Once you left they’ve been going like this…And I’m losing my mind.”

“You just didn’t want them to ride off and leave you behind.” Eider bumped Ulyaa’s shoulder.

Ulyaa gently slapped her away. “Shut up. Everyone was getting scared we’d be left alone.”

“Were there any problems?” Anton asked.

Rasha shook her head. “None. The Arachnid said she saw something in the grass but I didn’t.”

“You know my name, Rasha.” Ulyaa shook her head. “And I did see something.”

“Probably more Goblins. And there’s probably many more on the way.” Anton saw them pale ever so slightly. “But the city is safe. And it’s not much further. Dana?”

“Yes?”

“Could you please have your riders escort everyone to Atros? I can’t have them falling after everything we’ve done to get them here.”

Dana repeated the order and the riders obeyed, even if they didn’t entirely like the order. The convoy moved to the side and continued over the crest. Anton heard the sighs of relief and watched as their bodies visibly lost tension. The feeling spread like a wave until even the Seocurians at the rear looked like those at the front. The Beast-kin girls peeled off from the main group.

“Could someone please take these children?” Rasha asked. “They aren’t that heavy but I think they should be with their mother when they actually get to this Atros of yours.” Rasha looked over their horses. “Huh. It’s pretty big, considering what little is out here.”

“Atros is going to get much larger than that. Much larger.”

“That’ll be something to see.”

Anton took Seamus and Lili, both clung to his back like before. “You four should join everyone else and get to the safety of the city walls. I still want armed people to be in the convoy, just in case something happens between here and there.”

“Okay, Anton.” Eider grabbed Irso and Ulyaa’s arms and pulled them away. “We will get to see you again. Right?”

“Absolutely. Today might be a bit busy and messy sorting things out but tomorrow things should have started to calm down.”

“Great.” Eider stopped and smirked at Rasha, her cobra tail reaching towards Rasha’s backside, towards her tail. She coiled around Rasha’s tail before giving it a light tug. Rasha’s head snapped towards Eider but she had already moved beyond her reach. Irso smiled and rolled her eyes, while Ulyaa laughed. Rasha’s eyes twitched, she gave a final glance and nod towards Anton, and gave chase. She didn’t seem all that annoyed when she quickly caught up with them.

“The way that spider one moves really freaks me out.” Dana smiled bitterly. “Just that they’re clearly two different things and yet they’re not. And not just me. They’re all going to have a tough time settling in. I know that they’re probably good people but I can’t shake this odd feeling I get when I watch those eight legs moving.”

“People accepted Kal as a citizen of Atros,” Anton said defiantly. “It will take some getting used to but they’ll get used to it.”

“Kal looks pretty human. Even I was impartial to her presence.”

“Well-”

“And that was only because you were there.”

Anton looked at Kal. She smiled as she watched Marion and Kristof peel away from the rear of the convoy. Despite the quietness of Dana’s voice Kal was probably listening in.

“Is this Atros?” Marion asked, her voice permeated by short, shallow breaths. “I can’t believe there’s something out here. An actual city.”

“A city far away from the reach of the Seocurian Empire.” Kal smiled, her tail almost coiled over itself she was flicking it so quickly. “They won’t ever be able to touch us here. Not in a hundred winters. Never.”

“Thank all the gods. Whichever of them are actually listening.” Marion chuckled. “I must admit that I doubted you.”

“Me too,” Kristoff added. “I honestly thought this was some sort of elaborate trap. But, what happens to us now?”

“Once we get you safely inside, housed and fed, we’ll talk about what we need you to do for Atros.”

“Oh…”

“Everyone needs to contribute. Did you think this was going to be for free?” Anton asked calmly.

“No. Not at all.” Kristof waved his large calloused hands. “Actually, I don’t know what I was thinking. Not a lot. I was just walking each day, that was enough for me.”

“What we need are people that are willing to work. Farming, harvesting wood, mining and building. Those sort of things. Though I can assure you, it’ll be nothing like it was in Seocuria. We don’t beat our people or subject them to worse fates.”

Kristof smiled. “That…That would be nice. Just another question. What time do we start work?”

“Just after dawn and basically to dusk,” Anton answered. “Though we do get a decent lunch.”

“I’m sure we’ll get used to it.” Kristoff held Marion’s arm. “Anything will be better than that place.”

“I certainly hope so. And I hope that you’ll be able to help future Beast-kin that arrive. They’re going to need your help to adjust. And because of that I definitely want you on the council. It’ll help all the Beast-kin feel a little safer.”

“Kal mentioned that you might do something like that. I’m not really sure what you do on this council of yours but I’ll do my best.” Marion nodded and looked at Kal. “When will I see you next?”

“At the very latest it’ll be dinner.” Kal turned to Dana. “We…We still have those big dinners with everyone?”

“We do. I don’t know how we’re going to manage an extra thousand or so people, it was getting pretty difficult near the end anyway, but I’m sure we’ll manage tonight somehow.”

Anton frowned. “We may have to stop doing that. Shame. I thought it brought people together.”

“It did. It’s just there isn’t much room now.”

Kal nodded and looked at her mother. “I hope I’ll get to see you before then but if not I’ll meet you there. I know that you’re going to love this place as much as I do. I’m sure of it.”

Kal curled her fist and pumped it into the air. Marion raised a furred brow but it quickly turned into a smile. She chuckled and shook her head before looking towards Atros.

“Well, we can’t just be standing here all day. Thank you, all of you.”

Marion tugged on Kristof’s arm as they re-joined the column just as the last Beast-kin passed. The Seocurians were now those to be surprised. Many stopped, stunned, to see a city in the wilderness. Anton could see the disbelief in their eyes; after travelling for so long without no signs of civilisation he would have lost faith. The relief of finding a tiny flicker of life and hope in the wilderness must have been overwhelming. A few of Dana’s riders had to shout to keep them moving.

“Anton.” Cetina turned to him. “Do you want me to follow them now?”

“Not yet. We’ve got enough strength with us to hold off any Goblin that tries to sneak its way through the grass. Besides, I need to give these two back to their mother. I’m sure she’s starting to get a little worried about them.”

Near the rear of the column Anton spotted Lerato and Ndale together. Despite Ndale advanced age, he was moving quite fast, as were most of the elderly, but they didn’t begrudge the assistance of their younger fellows. Most of them didn’t. Both peeled off from the main group as the last of the Seocurians passed.

“Thank you for keeping them safe,” Lerato said as she held Ndale’s shoulder to support him. “I know you didn’t ride off with them but I was still worried.”

“They’re fine. I had some of the Beast-kin take care of them until we got back.”

Lerato gently released her hold of Ndale, who’s back stooped a little lower, and reached out for her children. “Are you two alright?”

“We’re fine.” Lili touched the ground first. “I thought they’d be scary but they’re really not. They talk and argue just like everyone else. And Seamus kept looking at their butts.”

“No I didn’t!” Seamus’s face again threatened to turn bright red, what passed for it with his dark skin. “I wasn’t! I was watching their tails.”

Lili smiled and Lerato shook her head.

“Well, I’m glad that you two are safe.” Lerato hugged her children tight. “I couldn’t lose you two now…”

“I…” Ndale coughed lightly. “Forgive me. We elderly aren’t exactly the fastest walkers. But we have done our best to keep up.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just a little out of breath. We didn’t have anything to eat this morning and our bodies aren’t exactly the youngest.” Ndale took another deep breath. “But I have been wondering, what will we do once we reach this Atros? We’re only fishermen and gatherers. We don’t know of anything beyond that. Some of the Beast-kin are very large and I know they can do some things that we can’t…”

“I understand your concerns.” Anton began. “And, unfortunately, the only place that you could fish isn’t exactly nearby or particularly safe. We fought a pack of wolves there and the lake is filled with gigantic fish, many of which I think are toxic.”

“So…”

“For now we’ll have you working with the other humans and Beast-kin. Nothing too difficult or involved to start with. I think that once Atros gets large and powerful enough, we’ll get you to start some sort of fishing operation at the lake, but otherwise it’ll be fairly simple stuff. I’m not going to have any of you try to do anything you aren’t capable of.”

Ndale scratched his head. “And what about the Beast-kin? So far they’ve been…”

“I’ll make sure there aren’t any incidents between you. The Beast-kin will have to just put what happened behind them, even if that seems like it’s impossible.”

“Thank you.” Ndale looked to the rest of the Seocurians some distance away already. “We’d better get back to them. Thank you again for saving us and guiding us through this land. We wouldn’t have survived another day in Jaka without you.”

Anton gave a final nod before they left to rejoin their people.

“That was easier than I thought.” Dana turned her horse towards Atros. “I thought they’d be at each other’s throats, especially with what Bertram told us about them.”

“With Anton here, they aren’t going to try anything.” Verona said proudly. Kal nodded seriously. “They’ve seen a little of what he’s capable of, of what we can all do, and that was enough to scare them. Though…I’m sure that’s not what Anton wants from them.”

“No. But it has to do for now. We can work on something based more on respect and order later. Fear will have to keep everyone working together.” Anton sighed. “But one thing at a time. Come on. It’s about time we actually returned home.”

Anton, Verona and Kal rode to the front of the convoy as it began to lose its form and spill out just before the walls of Atros. Cetina peeled away, re-joined the Beast-kin girls and tried to keep everyone calm. Anton saw them look around in confusion, many looking to him. Dana’s riders directed them towards the gate but it remained closed. Anton saw the villagers on top, they were waiting for him before opening the city with Jeff waiting in the middle. Beast-kin and Seocurian’s looked nervously at the Atros villagers standing on the wall. Their armour, while basic, was leagues better than their simple raggedy clothes. Not to mention the weapons, and the bows and crossbows, that rested on their sides. Anton saw Jeff on top of the gate, ready to order it to open, but Anton wanted to say something first.

“Everyone!” He shouted, instantly dimming any lingering conversation. Everything went silent. “I know it has been a very long and arduous journey for all of you. And all of you have suffered greatly, some far worse than others.”

Many murmured, the Seocurian’s looked at the Beast-kin with pity.

“But those times are behind you now. The memories of what haunted you are now just that. Memories. Within these walls, you will find safety and purpose. Tomorrow you will start working to build Atros into a safe haven for everyone, human and Beast-kin alike. There is so much to be done and not enough time to do it. But, for now, you don’t have to worry about that. Once you’re inside we have water and some food ready for you. Everyone, welcome to your new home. Welcome to Atros!”

Jeff shouted and the gate rumbled open. Dana’s riders ushered the nervous people inside as armed villagers watched everyone closely.

“Dana’s right,” Anton mumbled. “It’s going to take a long time for everyone to get used to each other. I hope we can think of a way to make them get along…Besides fighting off a Goblin attack. Though that might be the easiest way.”

“I know you’ll think of a way.” Verona squeezed his hand. “You got them this far without them ripping each other apart and you won’t fail them now. I know you want.”

“You…You may need to show them your magic again.” Kal smiled as she took his other hand. “That was why they accepted me. And I want everyone to be happy here. You may need to do it again just to remind them.”

Anton felt a smile creep over his face. “Maybe. But we’ll deal with that when we need to. But for now, I’m just glad to be home.”

“Home…” Verona trailed off, her finger idly playing with her wedding ring.

“Home with...” Anton chuckled. “Home with my wives. Never thought I’d say that aloud.”

The last of the convoy had entered Atros. Only they remained outside. Anton released his hold and they trotted inside.

There’s still so much to do. So much to get done before the Demons truly start to invade these lands. And I don’t know if we are moving fast enough. We need more people, weapons, armour, money, supplies…and everything else we could possibly get our hands on. It’ll still be difficult even if everything goes well. Still, I think we can have a few days break. Just to relax in our home for a little bit. Together with my lovely wives. There’s nothing wrong with that. Surely.

He glanced to his wives, both returning a warm smile.

It’ll be so good to have them in our home for a few days. Just to relax and snuggle with them in front of a fire, among other things…I wonder what everyone’s going to say when everyone sees the wedding rings. How’s the wedding going to go anyway? Both at once?

Anton chuckled as they passed the gate, the wood rumbling close behind them. One small stage of their journey had finally finished, but Anton knew that there would be many more trials before they could even begin to consider their home safe. But…One step at a time.

Chapter 109. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Soulthor's Fate

Chapter 109:

Sally awoke to the violent rocking of her cage. The dark iron cage had been her home for several days, alongside dozens of people from her village. Always moving. Almost no light entered their cage, a thick canvas had been laid over the top, and it was hard to tell when day ended and night began.

Her mother held her tight. For the first few days, Sally was sure it was a few days, she had cried and railed against their captors. When they didn’t respond she eventually gave up and sank down into a corner, pulling Sally close for comfort. They were given food and water but nothing else. No explanation of why they were taken from Soulthor in the middle of the night or where they were going. At one stage of the journey the carts rattle and rumbled very badly, the ground must have been incredibly jagged and rough, and it felt like it was about to fall over, but otherwise it was uneventful. Which was probably worse. It gave everyone time to think and worry about their future. Sally didn’t know what to think. Everything felt like it was happening not to her but some ethereal version of herself. A jolt, and the pain of landing her backside on the cold, hard iron cage, brought her back.

“What do we do?” Sally looked up at her mother.

Her mother’s eyes were red from crying for days straight. Strength returned to them as she squeezed Sally again.

“I don’t know.” She whispered into her head. “I don’t know. But we need to look out for ourselves. And we need to be strong no matter what. No matter what they do or say we have to be strong.”

She spared an angry glare for her father, sitting on the other side of the cage. The men of the village held strange and distant looks. Even her father. They had tried to defend the village from…whoever these people were. She remembered blood and screams, of her brother, so happy and always wearing a beaming smile, desperately swinging a chair at one of the attackers only to have his head cut in two. After that, she was knocked out and when she came to she was already inside the cage. In the beginning, the men had tried to fight back but their attackers were too strong. They were dragged away for some time and when they returned they wouldn’t speak, only cry. Her mother asked her father what happened but he was gone. The strongest man she knew cried and clutched his arms around his chest, beginning that they don’t touch him again. Sally didn’t entirely understand what he meant but she knew that it was something very bad.

Her mother patted her head again. “Because we’re the only ones we can rely on now.”

She glared again but her face soon softened. “Why didn’t he take you? Away from this?”

Sally remembered that day in Soulthor when hundreds of Mole Rats attacked their city. Three strange people had defended their village and her mother offered her for them to stay. That was a little creepy but she was glad when the mage said no. Though if she’d known what was going to happen…

Their carts shuddered to a halt. Tension rose inside as everyone tried to shrink as small as they could, her mother pulled her close and covered her head. The canvas flew open, a burst of sunlight blinded them for a moment and large burly men opened the iron lock. They reached and pulled out the nearest person, she kicked with all her might at his head but he didn’t care. He looked like a doll, his face devoid of expression even as her dirty feet hit his face. When she was halfway out he hit her hard in the stomach with a wooden cudgel. She coughed hard and held her stomach, her hands no longer able to stop her and was pulled out very easily.

The man looked at them. “Step out without resisting.” His voice was soft and devoid of emotions. “Now.”

There was a finality to his words, especially when three more large men stepped into view. Each wielded a large wooden cudgel as well. Slowly they exited the cart and stepped out of the cart for the first time in what felt like an age.

Sally’s eyes quickly adjusted to the blinding light. Twenty large carts, just like the cage cart they had just ridden in, were arranged in a line. The other people of Soulthor, those that weren’t cut down, were being dragged out by large men with wooden cudgels. To the side, however, lay something that terrified Sally. A huge stone city wall lay in front, easily fifty or sixty feet tall. The stone looked old and weathered, some areas had partially collapsed with piles of loose stone at the base of the crumbling sections. On the wall she saw hundreds of green and yellow creatures. Goblins. Her feet and hands shook at the sight of those creatures. She had seen them before, her father had made her watch the city watch deal with twenty of the Green Goblins when they tried to attack Soulthor. Her mother told her terrible stories about those creatures. They would eat children if they were caught. But she knew her mother wasn’t telling her the whole story. Something worse awaited anyone that was captured by those things.

“Goblins!” A shriek came from another cart.

The cudgel wielding men looked to her as she trembled and pointed at the Goblins on the wall. Sally realised there were many more just outside the wall, concentrated around the stone piles. The Greens blended in very easily with the grass as they shuffled about.

“You need to kill them!”

“Relax.” One of the men said to her, his voice again oddly smooth. “They work with us.”

“What?”

Her concern was shared with nearly everyone present. One of the men waved at a Green Goblin skulking near the wall. It twisted its deformed head, an ear pointing towards the sky. Again he waved it over and the Goblin hurried to his side. The little creature stopped a foot away from him and looked blankly up at him. He reached down and patted the creature before he shooed it away. The Goblin didn’t seem to mind being called over like a dog and then ignored. It returned to the others and blending in like nothing had happened.

“They are fine. Now…” He pointed with his cudgel toward a massive wooden gate nestled by the crumbling stone wall. “Move inside.”

They moved behind the Soulthor villagers and pushed them forward. Sally’s mother held her shoulders so tight that she felt that her skin would bleed.

The Goblins weren’t just skulking around. Those on the walls were gathered near the crumbling sections and looked like they were trying to fix it. Wooden scaffolding ran along the top and more wooden planks were being moved into position. The Greens and Yellows were moving stones while a few were cutting the stone into shape. A few larger Goblins, their skin almost as black as night, wandered through the working Greens and Yellows, directing their work. Sally noticed that they weren’t doing much work themselves.

The wooden gate had been left slightly ajar and allowed the Goblins passage. Those Goblins carried in pieces of stone as well as bundles of grass in crudely made reed baskets. Above the gate, there was a single word engraved on the stone. Most people in Soulthor didn’t know how to read but Sally knew the alphabet, even though she didn’t know how to write.

Surdon.

What the meant Sally didn’t know. She only knew often small towns and the larger city of Porswea. They clearly weren’t in the Graterious Empire anymore.

The villagers muttered and shuffled awkwardly but quickly passed through the gate, with a few strikes for encouragement. Once inside Sally almost let out a gasp. Huge wooden buildings, almost as tall as the wall, soared around them. They were old, many burnt or simply collapsed in on themselves but she knew it was once a beautiful place. Behind dirty glass windows, she saw movement, more Green and Yellow Goblins. Hundreds of them pressed their little faces against the glass windows to get a better look at them, many crawling over each other to see. Their eyes met hers and she felt their hunger. Their desire for her. Something startled them and they retreated from the window as she was pushed deeper into the city. Goblins were stripping the damaged buildings of wood and were creating new crude houses and buildings. Their oddly angled and rickety buildings looked terribly unstable, but they didn’t seem to care. From one building she heard something. A cry. But she was pushed forward before she could see.

Large rocks and boulders littered the streets alongside upended hand-drawn carts and broken market stalls, the once flat cobblestone had been torn up in many places by some unknown powerful force. Several Green Goblins were trying to lay more flat stones, though they clearly struggled with the task.

Sally looked back to the cudgel wielding men who remained at the rear. They walked very oddly, all in unison. A series of dolls connected to one string. They mimicked each other’s step perfectly. Very odd. A few Goblins stopped their tasks and began to follow them. The men quickly sent them back to work, with a strange series of squeaks and chirps, or threatening them with a hit from their cudgel. They reluctantly did so but she still felt their desire and hunger for them.

“Mom. I don’t like any of this. How do we get out of here?” Sally whispered to her mother, but she had no answer. Tears welled in her eyes as she desperately tried to keep a straight face. It wasn’t working.

The streets wound and curved in strange ways but they were led through the confusing streets towards the centre of the city. The buildings grew in size and complexity, the wood darkening, but more were burned and almost all had broken windows.

“Do you know where we are?” Sally asked her mother again.

“I don’t know.” She whispered back. “You…You can read. What did it say above the gate?”

“Surdon.”

Her mother’s face paled and her grip became even more intense. Sally whimpered in pain before her mother relaxed her grip.

“My father spoke of this place.” Her eyes darted to the dilapidated buildings. Inside Sally saw more green and yellow movement. And quite a few black ones too. “That this place fell to beasts and monsters before I was born…And now we’re here.”

The buildings ended abruptly as another stone wall loomed into view. This wall looked slightly better than the outer wall, though they had far more Goblins working on rebuilding it. If anything it looked like they were making it taller.

To the side of the open gate, she saw a pile of fur. But it wasn’t just fur. Blood leaked from the pile and pooled at the base. Sally felt vomit reach the back of her throat but held it in. They were bodies, but not of people.

“What is this?” the woman from before demanded of their captors. “Why are there Kobolds here? What are you going to do to us?”

Kobolds. I’ve never seen one before. They look a bit like hairy Mole Rats. But, why do they have those spikes coming out of their backs? Those look really, really painful.

No answer came to her outburst as they stopped the group just before passing through the gate. The cudgel men moved forward, still strangely silent, and started separating the men from the women. Sally watch in terror as they dragged her father away. The women screamed at them to stop but the men didn’t resist. They had the same distant and void look in their eyes, even the young boys.

“Keep moving.” One of the men ordered the women forward while the men stayed where they were.

Sally looked back. Hundreds of Green Goblins were allowed to approach the men while the cudgel man stepped away. Their distant look faded as they backed into each other, fear dripping from their faces as the Goblins smiled and liked their lips, stone-tipped spears in their hands. Sally felt something twist in her stomach. They disappeared from view the moment the screams started.

“No!” her mother and nearly every woman screamed in horror. The cudgel men stopped them from running back as the screams quickly turned into begs and whimpers. They quickly faded into the squelching sound of flesh being cut and torn.

Sally felt her body turn cold. Visions of her father, cut and torn apart, flashed over her mind. Everyone was stunned by what they just heard. Her mother broke from the group and attacked one of their captors. He took the blows, though his hand gripped hard on his weapon.

“Why!” she screamed louder than Sally had ever heard before. “Why did you kill them?!”

“They are of no use.” He replied a faint sadness in his voice. “Men cannot help with this stage of The Grand Plan.”

“But…” She shook her head as tears streamed down her face. “They could still work. You didn’t have to kill them!”

He tapped her stomach with his cudgel. “Men cannot help with the Grand Plan. But women can.”

Her mother trembled in fear and retreated back into the group of women, reaching out to her daughter.

“Keep moving.” They said and pushed them forward.

Now everyone was terrified and they required continuous encouragement to keep moving forward. They passed more piles of dead Kobolds. They had been dead for some time as Blue Crows flocked to the corpses, the Goblins were unconcerned with their presence, and picked at the bodies. Small swarms of rats scurried near the piles and hauled away whatever they could manage while flies buzzed around, some attracting small birds that darted about and snapped them from the air. The disgusting feast gave the Kobolds a semblance of life. Sally saw their stomachs had been ripped open from the inside. Around the dried blood and intestines, the skin had strange stretch marks, Sally had seen this with poorly prepared leather. She didn’t understand what she was seeing but knew that it was something terrible.

The sound of chopping wood caught her attention. In front of a large stone buildings, hundreds of Yellow Goblins worked on splitting large pieces of wood into square panels. One held up a piece of wood to another Goblin. It covered most of its chest. It nodded approvingly and put it on a stack next to several smaller pieces, these large enough to cover their arms and legs. As she continued to look she saw hundreds of piles of wooden armour, many just thrown into a rough pile, with black and yellow Goblins rummaging through them and equipping the armour. A thought flashed through her mind of these Goblins forming an army. But that was impossible…

Their captors didn’t relent pushing them forward until they arrived at the base of a truly massive castle. It was larger than anything she had seen before. The castle was at least two, maybe three hundred feet tall and thousands wide. Hundreds of spires, their roof tiles broken, dotted the castle. Thousands of Goblins clambered over the outside of the walls and spires, their yellow and green bodies distinct against the grey stone. She squinted and saw they were using ropes to stop themselves from falling down as they did something to it. Judging by the number of holes they were fixing the castle.

The gate into the castle was open and they were quickly ushered inside. Several Black Goblins stood on guard either side of the gate, each wearing a full suit of wooden armour with a stone-tipped spear in their gnarled black hands. They wore a band of wood around the top of their head. While it looked a little silly Sally guessed they weren’t wearing it because they thought it was funny. The Goblins glanced at them as they passed, a few gnarled fingers rapped hard on their spears but remained at their post.

Hundreds of Goblins mulled about the inside of the castle, each wearing a full suit of wooden armour and wielding a stone-tipped spear. Sally pulled close to her mother as the Goblins moved closer. Their mouths started to slobber uncontrollably as their hands reached out, their eyes turning bloodshot with desire.

“Stop!”

The Goblins recoiled from the source of the voice. The wooden armoured Black Goblins parted and allowed an old man through. His hair was grey and very short, his back stooped slightly as he observed them with curious eyes. He wore a simple set of clothes, like the rest of their captors. Unlike the rest, he had a spark of emotion about him. Happiness, as he looked at the women.

“How many did we get this time?” His voice was as smooth as the others, if somewhat older.

“One hundred and eighty-seven.”

He smiled, one that sent shivers down Sally’s spine.

“Good. They look a lot better than the Kobolds at least.”

“I thought the Kobolds would have been stronger than that.” The man shook his head towards the still opened door.

The old man shrugged. “I thought so too. But the texts say nothing about Kobolds being compatible. Though, we managed to get a good batch from them.”

“And now they’ve all run away to the south. We’d need horses to catch them now. Which we don’t have.”

The old man shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter now. Now we have…” His eyes focused on Sally. “It seems you brought some one that look a little young.”

“Oh.” The man shrugged. “We grabbed all the women and I thought we got rid of all the young ones.”

“And the men?” The Old man raised a brow, distorting his wrinkly face.

“Already taken care of.” The women whimpered. “They’ll help support the next generation.”

The old man nodded. “Good. Let the Goblins check just to make sure. We can’t afford to waste any resources on food when they cannot help progress The Grand Plan.”

He waved at something behind him forward. A Black Goblin, larger and more muscular than the others came forward. He moved from each woman and sniffed at them. He made strange noises, different from each woman until she reached Sally. She was so terrified when her eyes locked with its. It sniffed deeply and liked its lips but turned away in disgust and moved onto the next woman. Sally realised she didn’t breath while the Goblin sniffed at her. The Black Goblin finished sniffing at every woman and spoke to the elderly man in a series of strange chirps.

“Take everyone except-”

“Granddad!” A very young voice called out from behind the crowd of Black Goblins.

The Goblins parted and allowed a very young boy through. He wore a simple shirt and pants, had bare feet, but had a set of teeth on a necklace around his neck. They looked…wrong. A red line ran along one side of the teeth, one that made her eyes shake and her stomach churn to look at them. They appeared to have no effect on the young boy.

The boy smiled at the old man. “Why didn’t you tell me we had new friends?”

Sally shivered at the way the boy smiled. So innocent. And yet…

“These…”The old man frowned lightly. “These are not new converts to our belief.”

“Oh…” The boy looked dejected. “Why not?”

“They are here to help us with The Grand Plan.” The old man waved to the terrified women. “With their sacrifice, we can build a massive army to sweep away everything that threatens The Grand Plan.”

He nodded to the captors, then once to Sally. The men and armoured Black Goblins took the women by the arms and dragged them away, leaving Sally standing alone. She turned to her mother but a man held her back and kept her pinned to the spot. Sally smacked his hand and tried to reach for her mother. Her mother attacked the Black Goblins that held her and tried to reach for Sally. The Goblin ignored her strike and ripped her away just as their hands touched. A few moments passed before the women were taken away, their screams echoing throughout the castle.

The old man turned his attention to the lead captor. “I thought I told you to bring only those that can breed.”

“Sorry. At the time I thought she looked old enough.”

Both raked their eyes over her. She felt disgusted as their eyes trailed over her body, focusing on her hips and chest. She scowled and covered herself, both men cracked a smile while the boy looked confused between them.

“Why isn’t she going with them?” Again he spoke with utter innocence.

“Because she is not able to give birth yet.” The old man gently caressed the boys head, ruffling his hair. He squinted an eye but still looked confused. The man sighed and smiled. “I know your mother and father are no longer with us…but, a person has to reach a certain age before they can have children.” He looked to Sally, who tried to take a step back but wasn’t allowed to. “And she’s not old enough yet.”

“Oh.” The boy cocked his head towards her and smiled. “Then what happens to her now? Will she stay with us?”

The old man rubbed his chin. “It shouldn’t be too long before she’s ready, according to the Black Goblin. She’ll be kept with-”

“Who are you people?” Sally squeaked.

The old man stopped and looked at her, genuinely surprised. The boy cocked his head at her.

“We are the Ancient Listeners!” The boy triumphantly stated. “And we are going to save the world!”

“How? By kidnapping people? By killing my father?”

The bow frowned and looked at the old man. He smiled at the boy and rubbed his head again, but his eyes for Sally burned with hatred. She recoiled but the boy only frowned deeper.

“Why did we do that?” The boy asked, his frown deepening.

“Because they did not follow our beliefs.”

“But…But did you talk to them?”

The old man shook his head. “We don’t have time to show them the truth.” He knelt down, a few clicks emanated from his joints. “If you had never heard of the truth…Hm. If you had spent every day believing the sky was red, and I told you it was blue, would you believe me?”

The boy frowned and thought seriously. “I…No. I don’t think I would.”

“Exactly. And since they don’t believe in their hearts what we do, how long do you think it would take them to convince them of the truth?”

“A long time.” The boy didn’t look entirely convinced.

The old man turned to one the remaining captors and produced several vials of a swirling black and white liquid. “Give these to the women. It’ll help strengthen them for their ordeal and induce ovulation immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Don’t hesitate to use as much as necessary. We have much more if you need it.”

The man nodded and followed the direction where her mother had been taken. The old man turned his head back to Sally. She recoiled from his gaze, one filled with utter contempt for her existence.

“Now. Since you cannot give birth yet you are of no use to us. But…” he looked her over again, focusing just below her stomach. “It won’t be long.” He looked at the man holding Sally, who tightened his grip. “Send-”

“Can we convince her to change her faith?” The boy asked. The old man winced and looked at the boy. “You said it would take a long time but she’ll be here for a few days at least. That’s a long time…”

The old man frowned at the boy.

I need to say something. I…I can’t be dragged away like this! I don’t want to give birth to these things!

“Why…” Both looked as she speaked with her croaky voice. She squeezed her hand so tight it nearly bled. “Boy, do you have a mother? Like mine?”

He shook his head then frowned. “I did. But she died.”

A moment passed and his expression turned very sad. The old man opened his mouth to speak, words that would seal her fate, so Sally blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“But there are other mothers here, other women, with you?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Lots of people. They treat me really nice. Andrada treats me like I’m her son.”

“I don’t see her here.”

The old man frowned and looked at the man holding her. “Take-”

“She’s baking bread!” His eyes watered in desire, he rubbed his stomach with both hands. “They’re so good. You need to try it.”

Sally almost cracked a smile, both momentarily forgetting she was a prisoner. Something moved in her mind. “Is she going to help giving birth to more of these…” She nodded to the wooden armoured Black Goblins. “Things?”

“No…No they aren’t.” He looked up at the old man, the old man frowning in worry for the first time. “Why aren’t they?”

“They-”

“Doesn’t sound like they want to.” Sally interrupted the old man. “That they don’t want to sacrifice themselves for your Grand Plan. Sounds like they want others to go in their place. It sounds like they’re afraid.”

The boy frowned at her than to the old man. “Is that true? They don’t actually care?!”

“What we do is for all mankind.”

“Is it true?!” The boy rapidly grew angry and petulant. Sally was gratefully she knew her brother well enough to know how to stir him up. The old man sighed. The boy took it as agreement. “So it is true!”

“No. It is not.” The old man shook his head, clearly unable to think of a way out of this. “Send that woman to a cell. When she’s ready to give birth send her to the rest of them.”

“No.” he stomped his foot down dramatically. “I want to keep talking with her.”

“You cannot.”

“Then I won’t do it.” The boy folded his arms in a might huff. “If I can’t speak to her then I won’t do it. And I know that you don’t have anyone else that can.”

“ENOUGH!” The sheer volume of his voice made Sally shrink away. It too made the boy recoil slightly. The old man sighed and glanced at the man holding Sally. “Take her to the cells.”

Sally’s captor pushed her the opposite direction they had taken her mother. The boy started yelling at the old man as they passed through a massive wooden door. Sally struggled against the man but her strength was not enough. She glared at him but nothing graced his face other than a veneer of vague annoyance. She slowed but the man didn’t care, his strength was tremendous and simply dragged her along. The deeper into the castle she travelled the stranger everything became. The stone walls began to become rougher with a bright silvery metal trailing along the cracks in the stone. She reached out and caught a fleeting touch of a trail of the silver metal. The moment she touched it something crashed through her mind. Something old, cold and filled with unimaginable rage. Her body shuddered but something compelled her to touch it again, something reaching out from the silver that demanded her to touch it again. The guard ripped her away before she could touch it again. He glared at her for a moment before pulling her forward. Her heart ached in longing to touch it again, far stronger than even her first ever crush.

The silver lining faded away as she was lead deeper into the castle. The light dimmed until the only source of light was the few old torches to illuminate their way. The passageways straightened out to reveal over a hundred metal barred cells. Many of the cells contained skeletons, devoid of skin and flesh. A rat ran amongst the piles of bones, sniffed at their passing, and ran through a tiny crack. The man opened a cell and threw her in. She flew forward and landed on her hands and feet, skin scraping on the cold, rough stone. The man slammed the door shut and locked the door. The metal clank of the key turning the lock lodged in her mind. She glanced around and saw the cell contained nothing except a skeletal corpse. Nothing else.

“Hey!” She shouted as the man turned away. “There’s no water or food? There’s not even a chamber pot? Or even a hole for me! What am I supposed to do?”

The man didn’t respond and walked away.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me! You can’t just leave me to die here!”

He didn’t respond and disappeared up the passageway. Sally slumped down, her raw hands rubbing on the cold iron bars. Rust had built up and flaked off and dug into her skin.

They’ve just thrown me in here to rot. Like these poor people…

She looked at the skeleton in the far corner of the cell. Whatever once had held the person together had completely disappeared. Only its position, and that nothing had disturbed it since the person had died, kept it relatively together.

Sally felt tears stream down her face. The memories of the night she was abducted flashed through her mind again. The screams, the blood and the fear. That fear she would never forget. Finally, despite having never once cried during their ordeal, she cried. Tears streamed down her face until she could no longer control herself. Time felt strange and distorted until everything left her. She didn’t feel any better as she wiped away the tears from her eyes. She was still stuck inside a cell in the depths of a massive castle infested by Goblins.

“Are you alright?” A young and soft voice asked from outside the cell.

The young boy stood outside, his head cocked strangely. His eyes were faintly red and one cheek was slightly redder than the other with the shape of a faint outline of a hand. He smiled at her but kept a good distance from the cell. Again the necklace drew her attention. It felt just like the silver material in the stone, drawing her towards it though nowhere near as strong. She shook her head and looked at him.

“What are you doing here?” she choked down a sniffle and held the bars.

The boy shrugged. “Ghenadie talked to me for ages. He said a lot of things that I don’t really understand.” He rubbed his cheek. “My grandad can be mean sometimes. Though it doesn’t happen often.”

“How can you like that man?” Sally pulled herself up. “Do you know what he’s doing?”

“He’s following The Great Plan.” He smiled warmly. “That’s what we’re all doing.”

“By killing people? By making more of those Goblins?” Sally rested her head on the cold iron bars, feeling the iron flakes scratching on her skin. The boy didn’t respond and continued to smile. “So why are you here? And how come you’re alone?”

The boy shrugged. “Ghenadie calmed down after I agreed to help with the plan. So long as nothing happened to you.”

Sally almost smiled at the innocence and sweetness of the boy, but then she remembered where she was.

If…If I’m ever going to get out of here then I need to get on his good side.

“What’s your name?”

“Mihal.” He smiled.

“Mihal. Do you know where we are?”

“The cells?” Mihal cocked his head and looked around. “At least that’s what I was told.”

“No…” Sally shook her head. “Where is this city?”

“Ghenadie said it was called Surdon, capital of the dead Kar Kingdom.” He giggled. “That sounds really odd, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but where is that?”

“Okay.” Mihal raised his hand. “This place is far to the south…which way did he say it was? It was to the south-west of our home.”

“How far away from there?”

If it’s close enough…

“We travelled for about fifteen days on horses.” Mihal rubbed his bottom. “And it was really bumpy. Especially over the chasm.” He smiled wildly. “That was really bouncy.”

Sally slumped down the iron bars. There was no way she could just run home. Not with fifteen days to run through unknown lands with these creatures and who knows what else to prey on her. She suppressed the tears as Mihal stepped towards the cage and squatted to her level. He kept his hands on his knees but he looked genuinely worried about her.

“I just want to go home.” Sally whimpered to herself.

She looked up at saw Mihal still staring at her with a smile. This boy was the only way for her to survive in this place. By chance, he had become slightly attached to her but such attachment would be fleeting unless she pursued it. Words that her mother had told her to attempt to make a bond with her first crush flooded back into her mind. She adjusted herself and sat down. Mihal copied her and smiled.

“How long do you have here?”

Mihal shrugged. “As long as I want. Ghenadie doesn’t have me do much. And he agreed I told him that I can speak to you as long as I want as often as I want, and I don’t have to have someone with me. I have something really important to do, that only I can do!”

He seemed quite proud of his position, but his hand started to play with one of the red-lined teeth. It drew Sally’s gaze once again. She shook her head to dispel such urges. Mihal let the tooth drop and continued to smile at her.

“Oh, I brought these.” Mihal scarpered out of sight and returned with a large bundle of bread and small skin of water. He pushed them through the metal bars and only released when he was sure she had them. She sniffed at the bread, it smelt very good. Was this the bread he spoke of?

“So…” Sally took a bit of the bread, it was very good. Soft and warm. “If you’ve got time, can you tell me about yourselves?”

Mihal smiled and sat down and began to tell the tale of the Ancient Listeners. With every sentence that he spoke, Sally felt her body grow ever colder, all while Mihal smiled as he spoke of the horrors they planned to unleash upon an unsuspecting world.

Quick Update

Hello Everyone!

I can't believe it's been a month since my last chapter. Time really flies by...especially when you're dead tired most of the past month. Anyway, I just want to get everyone up to speed on what's been going on.

Work is progressing on the editting, currently I'm up to chapter 33 on Arc 2. At least my first go through. There's a lot of work there to be done.

As for Acr 4, the first chapter is done. However it is a little big and unrully, and probably needs to be cut into two. It'll give me a bit of breathing room too. Don't know how long it's going to take to get it out but definitely by the end of the week. I might actually have a few days off this week to get some of it really done.

Another thing, I don't believe I'll be able to keep up my weekly posts of chapters 10,000 or so words. I just can't do it. But I want to keep the chapters that long as that's about how big they are when I just let them flow naturally. I'm thinking fortnightly, so I can keep up the quality and not burn myself out.

Not much else to say except thatks to my Patrons. Really wanted to get this out before the 5th rolls over.

Anyway, thanks for your time and I'll see you all real soon!

EDIT:

I forgot to mention that I've done some re-aranging of the chapters and the interludes, which I'm not even sure if I'll call them that anymore. Regardless I believe the new order is better for flow and less of a dump than before.

Chapter 110 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Good Tidings

Chapter 110 Pt.1:

The mighty gates of Atros rumbled and slammed closed behind Anton. They were home. After so long, after so long roaming through foreign lands and fighting through monster-infested lands, they were finally home. Verona and Kal, still holding his hands tight, released their grip so they could properly steer their horses. Atros looked far better than when he left; streets and buildings were more ordered and regimented, the roads paved with flat stones and the people brighter and happier. Doubly so now that they had returned and the imminent threat was abolished. No goblin horde, baring one a hundred thousand strong, could threaten them now.

"It's so good to be back," Anton said aloud. "Back home. Oh, I've forgotten what it actually feels like to say that."

"Constantly moving does make you long for home." Kal smiled at him, quite a sly smile for her. "And a comfy bed."

"Just some privacy would have been nice." Verona laughed, throwing her hair back. "Not much you can do with almost a thousand people watching you."

"You're barely back and your thoughts are only about that?" A voice came from above the gate. Jeff, the tall and strong bald man, effectively the leader of all armed forces in Atros, strode confidently down the stone stairs adjacent to the gate. "For someone that wants to do great things your minds can get easily distracted."

Jeff smiled as he reached the bottom and jogged to Anton's side. Verona moved her horse away and Jeff slipped into the gap to shake Anton's hand.

"All kidding aside it's great to have you back. It was getting a little dangerous back there." All four looked to the still smouldering remains of the Goblin assault. "We'd have been fine but every bit of help is appreciated."

"It did look a little dicey back there." Jeff gently patted Anton's horse and backed off, allowing Verona to move back. "Dana made it sound like you wanted to ride out and meet them head-on."

"No." Jeff bobbed his head. "Not exactly. You have no idea how frustrating it is to be stuck inside these walls while they wander about outside, trashing everything we've worked to accomplish. They completely trampled a whole new crop field to the north, just walked over it and crushed the stalks…"

Anton nodded to the stream of people, Beastkin and Seocurian, approaching the next gate. "With this many more people I don't think the Goblins will be a problem anymore. Maybe something like the army that came from Mount Aspire but something like this shouldn’t be even a threat. But…I hate to ask this but are you actually ready to take this many people?"

Jeff scratched his head. "Truthfully, I don't think so. Zac was shocked when dad told him how many were coming with you. It was already going to be pretty tight but now...A lot of them are going to have to sleep together until we get things sorted out."

"With all the new hands that shouldn't be a problem. And we’ve been essentially all sleeping together anyway." Anton bobbed his head about. "Where is Dana taking everyone anyway?"

"They central plaza. I thought that would be the best place. Since I'm sure that you're going to have to say something first. Gotta’ have them understand what’s happening here before we start to send them on their way."

Jeff looked to the side streets. The Atros villagers looked on in confusion, Anton could hear them talking about the new arrivals. They didn't appear to have a clear idea on either group. Anton wanted to give them one before they came to their own conclusion.

"Yes...We'll ride ahead and make sure things don't get out of hand. Hopefully, things will go smoother with us at the front."

Jeff gave a small wave as they whipped their reins and picked up speed. They travelled to the side of the column. While the Seocurians looked at Atros slightly impressed the Beastkin were not so happy. Not regarding the quality of the city but by some of the looks they were receiving.

Kal was almost shot when she arrived here. And she's a half breed that looks mostly human...

Anton glanced at a reptile and turtle Beastkin, holding each other’s hands for reassurance.

And some of you look more like true beasts than civilized creatures. This is going to be tricky.

Anton reached the front of the column as they passed the last building and entered the plaza proper. Dana instructed everyone to keep moving to the centre. The Beastkin looked even more distressed as Atros villagers gathered like a ring around them at the perimeter of the buildings, pointing and chatting in hushed whispers. Anton moved to the centre of the plaza and waited for everyone to gather. When the last Seocurian had entered Anton guessed that well over three-quarters of Atros had gathered as well. He spied some children on the thatch rooves, pointing and laughing at the newcomers. At least he knew that their words would be light-hearted banter at worst. It was the adults he was more concerned with.

"Any idea what you're going to say?" Verona asked. "You don't have long before they're all here."

"Something short and to the point. People don't want to hear me waffling on. And it'll only hurt my credibility for the future."

"You made it so people accepted me." Kal gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I know you'll do the same again."

"Hopefully without having to make a little lightning storm."

Kal giggled as the rear of the column reached the central group. Jeff ran along the outside as some of the villagers moved forward. The Beastkin bunched together but the Seocurians stood their ground. A few nervous words were exchanged by the brave of either side that quickly made them relax. The villagers saw them as human, and therefore relatable, except for the stark difference in colour. Anton was more than a little glad they treated it like a severe tan rather than something more profound. No one was willing to talk with the Beastkin and it quickly began to show on their faces. They were outsiders and, even it wasn't put into words, they weren't welcome here.

"Time to put a stop to this," Anton mumbled.

Jeff stopped in front of him, turned and cleared his throat. "Everyone! Listen up! Before anyone does or says anything further there are some things that need to be said."

Jeff nodded at Anton and moved to one side. Now everyone's attention lay firmly on him.

Here goes nothing...

"People of Atros! Most of you know me as Anton. Perhaps even the Grand Mage. We have travelled long and far and faced many trials to return to this city. The people who stand before you now, Beastkin and Seocurian, have suffered through terrible ordeals. But those days are over for them as they are now living with us. I ask each and every one of you to welcome them to our city. I know that it may seem difficult for some but they are good people. I beg you to give them a chance."

Anton paused and surveyed the crowds. He didn't know if there was a way to make the people excited by the idea of Beastkin living with them but they appeared nonplussed by the notion. It would have to do. At least it wasn't outright hatred, though that could easily be lurking behind a facade.

"I will not tolerate any violence between anyone, be they human or Beastkin. That goes both ways. And punishment will be metered out without discrimination. Remember that everyone."

Light murmurs broke out in the crowds as they tried to make sense of Anton's words.

"Now, I believe that some food and water was promised." Anton received a nod from Jeff. "Please do not overdo it. I don't want to be spending my afternoon dealing with everyone's stomach ache."

A few chuckles came from the crowd, mostly from the Beastkin.

“Again, welcome to Atros. May you always be happy here.”

Jeff signalled to some guards waiting near a storage barn. They shouted something inside and a steady stream of villagers emerged, carrying large plates of food and mugs of water. They approached the still nervous Beastkin, looking very nervous themselves, and offered up their wares. The Beastkin sniffed at the food, the villagers looked a little apprehensive themselves, before some stepped forward and took the first pieces. Kal's old friends; Eider, Irso, Ulyaa and even Rasha, were the first to step forward. Only when they started eating did the rest start. Some of the villagers laughed, nervously returned by the Beastkin, as they began to exchange a few words. They were mainly about food, what they could or couldn't eat, but it was a start.

I'll have to thank them again later.

The Seocurians didn't have as much trouble. However, Anton did hear one recoil in shock when a very young villager asked if they were very badly sunburned. They were stunned for a moment before they realised the innocence behind the question. Remarkably it also loosened the tension between them.

"Everything seems to be going well," Anton said quietly. "The need to fill hungry stomachs does that."

"What happens now, Anton?" Jeff asked.

"Try breaking them up into small groups, make sure they've had their fill, and start taking them to where they'll be sleeping. We won't have them working today but it'll be good for them to get to settle down for a bit. Relax and take a breather, knowing they aren’t trekking through the wilderness anymore."

"Right...I'll give it a go." Jeff smiled as he looked over the new villagers. "Let's see how they are in the morning."

"They'll be fine."

"No sensible Beastkin is going to destroy their one chance at freedom," Kal stated adamantly.

"I’m not them I'm worried about. There were a few people that had...misgivings, about having the Beastkin here." Kal's ears drooped. Anton held her hand. "Then they can deal with me. Just like last time. And they'll get just as far."

Kal smiled and squeezed his hand back. "Thank you."

"I'll tell my men to keep an eye out, as well as Dennis and his deputies, but I can't guarantee that something won't happen."

"We'll deal with it when it happens. But with a strong presence, it should be enough to deter anything stupid."

Jeff gave a final nod before joining his men. Anton saw a horse and rider approaching. The horse was large, far larger than the old and weary beasts between their legs, and the rider was taller than any of them. Cetina, wearing her yellow, red and blue clothes underneath her simple steel armour, smiled as she approached.

"I didn't expect your city to look this good on the inside." Cetina stopped a meter away from their horses. Cetina's horse moved forward on its own and began sniffing at theirs. They had become good friends and didn't like to be separated for long.

"Not mine, but our city." Anton smiled as he looked around. "It sure has come a long way since the beginning."

"That it has," Verona added.

Jeff's men, and women, began the delicate task of separating the large group into something more manageable. As the first groups were led away Jeff returned.

"I've told everyone what's expected of them and what to do," Jeff smirked devilishly. "And if they don't they'll be running a hundred laps around the city. Wasn't so bad when it was smaller but now...So who's this?" Jeff nodded to Cetina. "She doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of them."

"Cetina was, is, our travelling companion. She went through some pretty tough times in Graterious." Anton spied Cetina reach for her hip. The moment her eye caught his she looked away and scrunched her hand tight. "And instead of just leaving her there we decided to travel together. She's been pretty useful in buying and freeing the Beastkin, as well as some haggling."

"So did you end up rescuing your mother?" Jeff asked.

Kal nodded and pointed at Marion. She and Kristof stood in a group which included Kal's old friends. Jeff raised a hand to his brow.

"Oh. I see the resemblance. Well, to your hair colour at least. That's great that you got her back. I was a little worried that she'd be dead by now."

"She's happy and safe now." Anton smiled bitterly. "Though she's not too keen on our relationship."

Jeff shrugged. "There you go. But, since you’re happy I’m sure she’ll come around to it."

"Um, Anton." Cetina gripped her reins hard. “What…Um. Since I guess you’re going to be staying here for a while what will I do?”

“I’m not sure,” Anton replied. “But…How good do you think you are at teaching?” Cetina cocked her head. “We don’t really have a professional trainer here. And, while I know Jeff is doing his utmost I think someone with some professional training would help greatly.”

Jeff laughed. “That’s one way to put it. I don’t have any fancy training but having someone that knows what they’re doing would help.”

“So what do you think, Cetina?”

Cetina frowned as she scrunched her reigns tight. “I. I don’t know. I do have some training but I don’t know how good I’ll be. I’ll give it a go though.”

“That’s the spirit.” Verona laughed as she leant forward. “You’ll be able to boss around lots of people now.”

“That’s…Not really an issue for me.”

"What about the eyepatch?" Jeff asked.

Cetina scratched at the leather patch. "I can fight even with this, even though it is a bit harder than before. And Anton promised me he would find a way to fix it."

"As soon as we get everyone settled I'll see to that." Cetina's face softened, a faint smile crept onto her face. "But, that reminds me about something."

Anton reached into a pack and found the small chunk of Demon hide he took from Fort Acidava. The sensation of the rough, cold hide brought back memories, of a terrible battle and of deep, everlasting wounds.

"I need you to summon everyone for a council meeting. There is much to discuss beyond our new arrivals."

"Good or bad?" Jeff asked as he summoned a guard.

Anton felt the ring on his finger.

"Both, I suppose. But I want to get it done right away."

Jeff sent the guard on his way. "Shouldn't be too long to get that organised. Most of them are here but they're just lurking at the edges."

"Could you also make sure that there are seats for Verona and Kal? As well as two extra seats for Marion and Ndale. He's one of the older Seocurians. I want them to join as representatives."

"The room's going to get a little crowded but I'm sure we'll make it work."

"I guess that I'm not invited to this meeting?" Cetina asked. "I understand if I'm not..."

"Not this time, Cetina," Anton replied. "We're going to be talking about some sensitive topics."

"I understand. I just don't know what I'll be doing right now." Cetina's face scrunched up oddly. "I'm kind of lost, since I don’t really fit into either group."

"For now, just follow Irso and Eider and the others. Kal's old house is free so we'll have you live there, for now. It's basically across the street from us and it’s a pretty good house at that."

"Okay." Cetina appeared quite happy. "I guess I'll see you all later...Where is a stable?" Cetina gently rubbed her horse’s neck. "I can't just leave her to wander."

"Go speak to Dana," Anton said. "She'll know what to do."

Cetina bobbed her head about until she spotted Dana speaking to a cluster of her riders. "I see her. Thanks...Thanks for not leaving me to die in Porswea. I'll see you all later then."

Cetina gave a small wave as she headed towards Dana.

"Strong, talented and loyal." Jeff mused. "She'd make a great bodyguard for you."

"A bodyguard?"

Kal reached for his hand again. "I think Jeff has a point. You're going to need more than Verona and myself to look after you and keep you safe. From now on things are only going to get more dangerous. Especially when we're raiding Seocuria. Remember Porswea?"

Anton looked to Verona, but she only gave a seductive wink before turning her attention back to the Beastkin and Seocurians.

"I...I don't know. Maybe. An actual bodyguard would be good. When we become a major player in the world a lot of people would probably want me dead. Having Cetina there would only help. Besides, I can't have my wives being my bodyguards."

"Wives?" Jeff asked, a little astounded.

"Oh..." Anton looked either side. Both girls flushed a tiny amount, they still weren't used to it being said aloud and in a public space at that. He wasn’t either. "Well, that’s one surprise out of the bag."

"There will be a lot to talk about then." Jeff laughed. "I think I owe someone some alcohol."

Jeff laughed again as he moved towards the Main Hall.

"Guess nearly everyone was taking bets on us." Anton smiled. "At least they've still got their sense of humour."

"What...What do we say?" Verona asked. "Just that we're your wives now?"

Anton nodded. "Absolutely. I was adamant about Kal and I am about us. And there won't be a problem, Verona."

Verona still sought out his hand for reassurance. “Just a thought. I wonder what everyone’s going to say when they see our rings.”

---[]---

Anton, Verona and Kal took their seats first in the council chamber, placing their packs at their feet. There wasn’t much room left inside the small room, they would need to move it to a proper building soon, and give Bertram and Sybil some more privacy. Luna, who had been sleeping since arriving at Atros, burst into life when they passed over the horses to Dana’s riders. Anton didn’t want her to dash off, overly excited to be in a new place, so he held her tight and refused to let her escape. He placed her on his lap and gently patted her as he waited for everyone to arrive.

“Am I first?” A voice called through the door. Jonathan, the resident blacksmith of Atros and a very large and strong man, peered his head around the open door. A smile crept over his face. “Nope. I guess not. Good to see you three again.”

He stepped through, his children in tow, and took a seat. “It was starting to get a little dangerous before you arrived.”

“Your children did a good job keeping everyone safe.” Anton smiled as Shawn and Jocelyn's face’s beamed with pride. “Excellent work, you two. I’m very impressed by how you handled yourself.”

“We just did what you told us.” Shawn pumped his fist into the air. “Take it steady and don’t overdo it.”

Jocelyn smirked at her brother. “Shawn’s just saying that. He wanted to use all his magic at once, so he could make those flame pillars that you made, the ones that flew into the sky.”

“That would have been great.” Shawn smiled at his sister. “But I don’t know how to do that. Can you teach us? What about Jocelyn’s magic? Does she get one of those but made from lightning?”

“Kind of. I’ll show you, and the new people, how to use your magic. At least how I understand it. But we’ve got some work to do before we can get to that.”

They appeared a little annoyed but it quickly disappeared when a squeak came from Anton’s lap. All three leaned forward as Luna burst her head through his fingers. Her head twitched towards them as she squeaked and tried to stand up.

“What is that?” Jonathan asked.

“A Peryton,” Anton explained. “We found her on the trip through Graterious. Her mother had been killed by a Griffon but managed to kill him in return, and she was the only one left alive. It felt wrong to just leave her to die with her mother so we took her with us. She’s been very helpful…and we’re pretty sure that she can use magic.”

“Can we pet her?” Jocelyn asked.

“Of course. I think she wants to get a pat from anyone.” Anton gently put her on the table. “Greedy little bugger. Just be gentle with her. She’s not that old.”

Luna glanced at him, her short tail waggling inanely, and ran towards the children. They stood up and raised their hands as Luna jumped towards them. She landed roughly in their hands and began to lick their faces. They moved their chairs closer together and held Luna between them, gently stroking her back and head. Luna loved the attention and settled down, squeaking softly to encourage them further.

“She’s really soft,” Jocelyn said. “But her back legs look like a bird.”

“One day she’ll be able to fly.” Verona rested her elbows on the table. “I don’t know if she’ll be strong enough to carry someone, but it’ll be nice to see her soaring through the skies.”

“Are you going to get any more?” Shawn asked. “I’d like to have one as well.”

“Not anytime soon, I’m afraid.” Shawn was a little disappointed at Anton’s words. “They live far to the south. Beyond the boundaries of the old Kar Kingdom. I think Luna’s mother got lost, maybe her pregnancy made her do some strange things, and she ended up in Graterious.”

“Pregnancy makes you do strange things?” Verona asked, slightly worried.

“Sometimes.” Anton shrugged. “At least that’s what I’ve heard. Eating strange things or behaving oddly, just to name a few things. You do have a baby growing inside of you and it’s going to throw your body off.”

“Something to look out for.” Verona looked at Kal and both girls nodded seriously.

“And I don’t think that they would be for sale in Graterious. Nithroel’s probably not that happy that we even have this one. I might need to ask Cetina about if there are any beasts for sale.”

“Nithroel?” Jonathan leant forward. “Was not that the goddess with the Kobolds that attacked us?”

“Yes.”

“Should…Should we even be touching the Peryton then?”

Anton shrugged. “Not much we can do about it now. We’ve been travelling with her for some time now and nothing bad has come from it. But we’ll definitely keep an eye out.”

If we do get any more we’ll need to separate its ties to Nithroel just like Luna. Can’t let her have too many eyes and ears in this city.

“Who is this Cetina?” Jonathan asked.

“It’ll be easier if we explain once everyone’s arrived.” Anton smiled. “There are several more pressing matters.”

Goblins, Demons and liberating and housing Beast-kin slaves…Way too much for us to deal with, and yet we must.

Bertram and Sybil arrived next. They said a simple hello and sat down next to Shawn and Jocelyn. They looked at Luna, her small form writhing in delight as the children continued to pet her, but said nothing. They correctly assumed there would be an explanation. Over the next few minutes everyone else on the council gathered, except for Raston. They took their seats, idly chatting with each other, but each held an expectant look directed at Anton. Luna, thankfully, didn’t leave Shawn or Jocelyn’s side but she did show a lot of interest in everyone new that she saw.

Now only three chairs remained open. At the doorway stood Ndale and Marion, both looking a little nervous. They didn’t know if they were supposed to sit yet. Marion’s tail was tucked between her legs and refused to sway, she was more than a little nervous. Kal looked at Anton and held his leg.

“Everyone,” Anton began. “I’m extremely glad to see you all. I know that you’re probably extremely busy but there are many things that we need to discuss.”

“Glad to have you back,” Zac said loudly. “It was starting to get a little boring without you three here.”

Anton smiled. “We’re all glad to be back. But, before we get too much further I’d like to introduce you to two new people to our council. Ndale, representative of the Seocurians and Marion, representative of the Beast-kin.”

Both gave a tiny wave at the mention of their name.

“If you would please both have a seat. There’s no reason for you to stand for any longer than you already have.”

Marion pulled her chair out, hesitant to let it scrape on the ground, while Ndale struggled slightly to lift it. He wasn’t the strongest or youngest person and the long fortnightly long trek through the wilderness had taken its toll. Marion mumbled and helped Ndale take his seat. Ndale gave an awkward smile and an appreciative nod before Marion took her own.

“I never thought I would see a Beast-kin help a Seocurian,” Bertram said softly.

“They may share their skin but they aren’t those that enslaved us,” Marion replied. “Even though it can be hard sometimes, I can tell the difference. I just hope the others can.”

Anton clapped his hands to draw attention back to himself. “Indeed. The Seocurians that are with us are refugees in more sense than one. They are the descendants of those that fought and lost against the Empire, and after their home was destroyed by Goblins. Though it will be difficult they will be living alongside us and the Beast-kin.”

“I’m not sure how that’s going to work…” Bertram looked at Dennis. “Your Deputies might be very busy over the next little while.”

“Don’t forget what I said earlier.” Anton stopped Dennis as his mouth opened. “That there isn’t going to be any discrimination either way. Judge them on their actions, not who they are.”

Dennis nodded furiously. “Yes, Anton. I haven’t forgotten what you told me before leaving for Graterious.”

“Good. Now, to business. Since you know that we have made it back safely I’d like to know what’s happened in Atros while we’ve been gone. Judging by what we found coming back things haven’t exactly been dull.”

“What do…” Jeff trailed off. “Well. It’s those damn Goblins. They’re up to no good again.”

Zac and Jonathan chuckled but it was nervous at best. Everyone else, barring Ndale and Marion, looked very serious.

“Dana’s tracked them down to a small mountain to the northeast. I’m pretty sure that Dad mentioned to me that you saw some there on the way to Graterious.”

“Yes, we did. No idea how many there were in that mountain, we didn’t exactly go and check, but judging by the number that attacked Atros I’m going to say it’s going to be a thousand or so. Probably more.”

“Oh, not again.” Sybil fell back into her chair. Bertram held her hand, relief immediately coming to her face.

“Now that you three are here that shouldn’t be a problem.” Jeff smiled. “We can take a hundred or so people with us and we can deal with them once and for all…Or, at least until the next lot comes along.”

“So soon?” Marion asked. Everyone turned to her. Compared to those present she was the outsider, the only one with a fur-covered face. She looked at Kal, who gave her a nod and she took a deep breath. “I mean, you’re going to send my daughter in battle right away?”

“I don’t really have that sort of say.” Jeff scratched his chin. “That would be up to her, and Anton.”

Marion looked worryingly at Anton.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to send anyone out to attack the Goblin nest just yet.” Anton began. “By the time we get everyone organised it’ll be late in the afternoon. And I don’t want to be hunting Goblins in the dark. Besides, we’ve got the Seocurian’s and Beast-kin to help settle in and I’m sure that your guards need some time to relax.”

“It’s going to be hard to relax knowing that there are Goblins lurking just outside the wall,” Jeff replied.

“I understand. But with the three of us here there shouldn’t be a problem. And…” Anton glanced at Marion. “I’d like to make the whole thing a bit of a bonding exercise. I know that, from past experience.” Anton patted Kal’s leg. “That fighting a battle together is a fantastic way to overcome your differences. I know that you all thought differently of Kal after she proved herself fighting the Kobolds.”

Many nodded in agreement. Anton knew the reservations about Kal’s presence had run deep but was glad to know that it had changed and so quickly. A battle with the Beast-kin and Seocurians joining in would help to erode the barriers between them.

“Wouldn’t it be a little too soon for them?” Bertram asked. “They haven’t even been here a day.”

“We’ll only take volunteers this time. I think I know some that we could persuade to join us. They wouldn’t be doing much in the way of fighting but just having them there would make a lot of difference in the long run.”

“If you say so.” Jeff folded his arms and leant back into his seat. “I’ll have everyone ready in the morning. It shouldn’t take too long then, right?”

“Not at all. So, what else has been happening?”

A moment of silence passed before Zac shuffled in his seat. “I guess I’ll say my bit first. Not that there’s much to say. We weren’t exactly expecting so many people and, with the Goblins coming so close to the city, there was only so much we could do. Jeff’s probably told you but a lot are going to have to sleep under the same roof.”

“That won’t be a problem for us,” Ndale said. “Our homes in Jaka were small, not many large trees grew near the coast, and we are used to sleeping close to one another. Truth be told, we are just glad to be out of the wilderness and a sturdy roof over our heads. I am eternally thankful that it didn’t rain after the first night.”

“I can say the same for the Beast-kin. Almost all of our lives we’ve spent huddled together in cells, so it won’t be a problem.”

“It might actually be a bit difficult to be on your own,” Anton said quietly, Marion and Kal looked oddly at him. “After spending your entire life close to people suddenly switching sleeping on your own, where it’s almost completely silent, might be a bit much for some.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” Marion scratched the fur on her cheek. “I’ve…No, none of us have really been alone. Nothing good comes of that…”

“I’ll think you’ll be surprised how quickly you will get used to it, mother. When everyone realises they won’t be beaten or raped during the night they’ll sleep easily.” Kal smiled. “But you aren’t alone. In more ways than one.”

Marion’s tail, tipped with a single fan, unlike Kal’s three, rose above her shoulder. “T-True. Kristof will keep me company. I know I won’t have a problem but some others might. Perhaps this won’t be so bad…”

“Who’s Kristof?” Dennis asked.

“Marion’s husband,” Anton replied. “And a Dwarf Minotaur.”

“Or Bull Minotaur.” Marion shrugged. “They’re both the same that.”

“But still, who’s that?”

“He’s one of the bigger Beast-kin.” Verona began. “He’s about as tall as a normal human but he’s got huge muscles. And horns that grow over his ears that swirl into a little coil. Oh, and he has hooves for feet, like Rasha.”

“I…”

“Introductions will have to wait for now.” Anton patted Verona’s leg. “We’ll do that after this meeting.”

“Right.” Verona didn’t appear annoyed or upset.

“But,” Zac continued. “With the Goblins dead and more wood we could easily build houses for everyone.” He shuffled in his chair. “Is there any chance that some of the new people could help us? It would be done a lot quicker if they did.”

“We are just fishermen,” Ndale explained. “But we will help however we can. We aren’t builders or woodcutters though, we just made do in Jaka.”

“Same with the Beast-kin. Though the stronger of us will be able to cut and haul wood. I suppose that’s what many of us were already doing but at least this time we won’t be being whipped.”

Zac laughed. “Every bit helps. Now I can get my people to focus on building instead of having to worry about getting the resources I need. Could I have a look over the people before any are sent my way? I don’t want to have someone that’s too old or too small to do the job. It’ll just hurt them if they try.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Sybil said. “I’d like to take those that aren’t good for working for you. It doesn’t matter if they’re slow or not very strong. We have crops to plant and harvest soon, a lot more needs to be done after the Goblins wrecked everything outside the city wall, and we’ll need every pair of hands that we can get. Or claws or whatever…”

Marion smiled faintly. “That might be good for the Beast-kin. Even though it might remind them a little bit too much about their lives in Seocuria, most worked in plantations or fields. So at least they’ll know what they’re doing. Just…Promise me one thing.”

“Yes?”

“Just don’t have someone standing around with a weapon, watching everything they do. That’ll only make things worse for them. We always had masters that did that…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sybil smiled. “We usually don’t do that sort of thing but there is usually someone that oversees the work. But I’ll make sure to tell them.”

“Thank you.”

“Jeff? And Avery?” Avery perked up at Anton’s words. He had been silent and simply content to watch and listen. “We need the newcomers properly trained. I don’t want them to be trained to be elite soldiers but at the very least they need to be able to defend themselves. I’ve spoken to a few who might be interested in becoming guards and soldiers but most seem hesitant to make such a commitment, at least presently. The Beast-kin, while some are very strong, aren’t fighters and the Seocurians are fishermen…So they know how to thrust a spear but not much else. Can you two handle that?”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Jeff smiled. “If everyone knows how to defend themselves then it’ll make defending Atros that much easier. Everyone with a spear or sword…The Goblins would be even less of a threat.”

Avery frowned lightly. “We don’t have that many bows or crossbows. And I saw some of the Beast-kin out there…Some of them looked like they might damage them.”

“Do you have a problem with Beast-kin touching your stuff?” Kal asked, her voice far more flat than normal. “I remember that you didn’t want me touching your bows. You gave me one that was really old and almost broken.”

Avery shook his head, but Anton saw his eye twitch. “No. But I am a little concerned about them. Especially with so few of them and being so hard to get more, even with Jonathan working as hard as he can, he can only do so much. Some of the Beast-kin I saw had claws and what looked like really rough skin, which I presume covers their hands as well, and I don’t want it damaging them by accident. And we need all of them we can get.”

Kal grumbled and held his leg tight, so too did Verona. Marion, Jonathan and Zac didn’t look too happy either.

I don’t know how much of that is true, perhaps some of it is, but once we’ve got the hand cannons working properly then that won’t be a problem. Then we’ll see how real your concern is…

“I think we’ll hold off on teaching the newcomers how to use those until they’ve got a good handle on basic weapons,” Anton said. “Swords, spears and the like. As you say, we don’t have that many and some of the Beast-kin, like Irso, who have sharp claws, might damage them by accident. And when the string’s broken…”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Avery shuffled in his chair. “I don’t have anything against them but I just don’t want to have them broken…”

“Well, I suppose that makes some sense.” Jeff mused. “But so long as they don’t have sharp claws or something that could damage the string I don’t see a problem with it.”

Avery nodded.

Maybe it is just concern for the equipment, but it’s coming across the wrong way. Though, what would be a better way of saying it?

“On the subject of weapons,” Anton turned to Shawn and Jocelyn, still enamoured with patting Luna. “Bertram mentioned that you two had some success. Is that true?”

“Yes!” Shawn threw up a hand excitedly. Luna didn’t understand the sudden movement and began squeaking in mild distress. Shawn scratched her head until she calmed down.

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Dennis began. “But what is that?”

“It’s Luna,” Shawn replied, as if that was enough of an answer.

Anton motioned for them to place her on the table. Both were hesitant to let the little fluff ball go but eventually relented. Luna gently landed on the table. While she had been incredibly excited to see everyone enter, from her safe position between Shawn and Jocelyn, now that she was the true centre of attention, surrounded by people staring at her, she was more than a little nervous. Her tail drooped and tucked between her legs and her ears fell. Anton made a noise, Luna perked up and ran towards him. This time she didn't perform a mad leap of faith and skittered to a stop in front of him. Anton scratched her neck and she sat down, craning her neck so Anton could reach the right place.

"This is Luna. A Peryton. We found her in Graterious and we've brought her with us. As you can see she's very friendly and loves attention and a good scratch."

"What does she eat?"

"Right now she's only having milk but soon she'll have to move onto grass."

"When we're done here we'll need to get her some." Verona lent forward and gave her a little scratch. "None of us have eaten today."

"Thank the gods that we still had water," Kal added quietly.

"Indeed...Now, Shawn, you were going to say something?"

"Yes." Now he was far more subdued. "Jocelyn and I managed to put our mana into some weapons and pieces of armour. You should see how they look. They're rippling and waving with pretty colours all the time."

"They are." Jonathan looked at his children with pride. "They have done an extremely good job. I did not think it was possible but they have made something very interesting."

"Thanks, dad." Jocelyn fought back a tiny flush.

"I was surprised when Bertram told me that you had succeeded so quickly. After we're done here I would like to see them very much. See what our apprentice smiths have managed to conjure up."

Shawn and Jocelyn smiled widely. Anton was very interested in seeing what they had made, his excitement only made them happier.

"Bertram also told me that you both had a vision of some sort. That the Old Gods were sending help of some kind."

"They did." Jocelyn looked at her brother. "But it was like a dream and I can't remember that much."

"Me either."

"They said that help was coming but that was it. There could have been something more but I don't remember anything. It was all hazy…"

"That's a shame." Anton shrugged. "Oh well. These Old Gods can be a bit hard to follow at times. But we'll take any help we can get. The last time they sent Kal and that's only led to good things."

Kal laughed, her mocha tanned skin flushed ever so slightly, while Marion squinted at Anton.

"And the new Glyph users? How are they doing?"

"Better than when they got them." Bertram smiled bitterly.

"We thought they were being murdered," Dennis added. "Everyone came rushing as they screamed into the night."

Jonathan took a deep breath and flexed his fingers. "Just like when it happened to my children. That was one of the worst night of my life."

"We told them not to do anything with it, no matter said how tempting." Bertram continued. "We didn't want the city to burn down or someone to get hurt, especially when you weren't here."

"I can only guess at the feeling of having that sort of power and not being able to use it. I'll see them after we've gone to Jonathan's smithy. At least give them the basic rundown on how to use their powers. With six Glyph mages, I think the Goblins will be even less of a threat now."

"We did the best we could," Shawn said adamantly.

"And both of you did a magnificent job. Without your magic, I'm almost certain that things would have been far, far worse."

Jeff laughed. "That it would have been. Every time one of the Goblin got near the top, and I thought they were about to finally pour over, a ball of lightning or fire would crash into them, knocking them back and killing dozens at a time. Everyone owes you gratitude for saving them."

Shawn and Jocelyn smiled as they flushed beet red. Shawn opened his mouth to speak but Jocelyn lightly bumped his side. They should just enjoy the moment.

"Has anything else of note happened while we were gone?"

"Not really." Bertram looked around, finding no one with anything further to add. "That seems like it from us."

"I do like to hear that everything is calm and quiet." Anton chuckled. "Certainly better than finding out this place is under attack again."

"So tell us about your little adventure." Zac laughed heartily. "Three of you left and almost a thousand came back. There's got to be a good story behind that."

Anton recounted, as best he could, what happened during their time away; the empty lands of the old kingdom, a giant crystal chasm teeming with Goblins, a strange cult and their first contact with the people of Graterious, meeting Cetina and Duran and finally arriving at Porswea.

"Over a hundred thousand people." Bertram leant back in his chair. "It's been so long since we left Surdon...I can't even imagine how big it must be."

"There were definitely more than that many people living there." Kal wrinkled up her nose. "It certainly smelt like there was."

"And they just had all their..." Verona looked at Shawn and Jocelyn. "Their waste was just running down the streets and into the fields."

"And neither of us can smell as well as a Beastkin." Anton squeezed Kal's hand.

"It was pretty bad." Kal laughed. "Not so bad once we got inside though."

"Proper planning." Anton nodded. "That’s what we need now. But we needed to get the attention of the local leader, Lord Cassius."

"Oh, and that bed." Verona bit on her lower lip. "That bed was amazing. Everyone here needs one. It was so good. Especially if your bones and joints are getting old and tired."

"What would you know about that?" Dana asked.

Verona raised her hand. "Trust me. It helps when you're tired and sore." She bumped his foot but Anton tried his best to keep a flat face. Verona pouted when she didn't get the desired reaction.

"It was good." Anton continued. "Quite a few things happened, most of them good but we'll get to them at the end. We joined a mercenary company that had been tasked with retaking a large fort from a Goblin horde."

"Those damn things cause nothing but trouble," Jeff grumbled.

"So we joined them and fought our way through. There were a couple of those strange puss leaking goblins, sewn into their armour. Turns out they are called Awakened Goblins."

"Whatever for?"

"No idea. But it was able to block some of my magic. Only nearby but I just couldn't kill it."

Everyone looked worryingly at Anton. If their strongest mage could have their magic blocked by a simple Goblin...

"In the end we killed it. And by we I mean Kal. She shot it with a guided arrow, which is another thing we need to discuss." Anton smiled at Kal. "Kal can use the prayer power, same as me. Better in fact."

"You're just saying that." Kal playfully swatted at Anton's arm.

"And your mark doesn’t cover almost all of your body." Verona addled, shrugging lightly. "It can get a bit annoying."

"So...Kal can now heal wounds?" Sybil asked.

"And a great deal more than that." Anton raised a hand. "After killing the Awakened Goblins they fell into chaos. And that's when everything went wrong." Anton reached into the pack by his side and pulled out the small chunk of charcoal like hide. No one said a word when he placed it on the table. Luna sniffed at it before sneezing wildly and kicking the chunk away. "This is a piece of hide from a Demon that we killed."

"So they are real. And they've arrived." Bertram reached for the chunk but his arms weren't long enough. Jeff brought it close enough for him to grab. He held it close as he twirled it in his hands. "I thought you said that they had kingdoms to cross before they could get here. And now they're in Graterious? Is it all gone?"

"No. A small portal opened and six came through. They were massive dog-like creatures, completely covered in that hide. Huge, strong legs with obsidian teeth and claws. Out of their eyes and mouth, they wept this red-hot lava blood, burning everything it touched. They were a terror to behold."

Verona leant closer to Jeff. "And that's why Cetina wears an eye patch. Some of that landed in her eye and nearly burned it out. Turns out their blood has that Ghlyirl stuff in it, so Anton and Kal couldn't heal her eye better."

"How can we possibly kill it?" Jeff asked. "I'm guessing that if we stabbed it with a spear we'd just get a face full of this burning blood. Which you can't fix."

"They can die, just like everything can be. We used our magic to kill them and the normal soldiers used long pikes and crossbows to smash their hide apart and hit the flesh underneath. Thankfully the portal remained open for a few seconds. But...There was something that bothered me. Two things, actually. When they came through they weren't immediately hostile. The goblins freaked out-"

"Gods, wasn't that loud." Verona rubbed her ear. "All of them screaming 'Greka', or something. I bet that was really loud for you, Kal."

"It was. It really was."

"That's how we knew that their blood burned. The Goblins threw themselves at the Demons, hacking and tearing at anything they could get their hands on. And the blood that came out burned them to a crisp."

"Could you control that blood, Verona?" Jeff asked.

"No. Not even when I caused the wounds. I guess it's the wrong sort of blood, or I can't control blood from another world. Though I can control Anton’s…"

"One of the Demons fell to the Goblins before they were all killed. But...The Demons weren't mindless beasts bent on total destruction. They looked sad that one of their own had fallen, one even laid its paw on the dead ones face and closed its eye's. That, to me, doesn't sound like a wild beast."

"So why are they dead then?" Sybil asked.

Anton sighed. "Because one of the soldiers fired a bolt into the Demons eye. The guy was so scared he fired by accident. The Demons charged and we killed them."

"They don't sound much more than a crazed animal to me." Jeff clicked his tongue and rapped a finger on the table. "But at least we know they can be killed."

"I wouldn't say they were that bad." Anton raised a hand to stop Jeff. "Imagine being in a strange world, one of you dying and then you're attacked again. I wouldn't be having much fun either. I'd probably panic and lash out at the first thing I saw. Which was us."

Jeff slowly nodded and offered no counterpoint.

"We had no real warning it was about to happen-"

"That's..." Kal's ears pricked up as she took a deep breath and straightened her back. "That's not entirely true. I felt something just before it happened. Like a thousand knives we're stabbing...well, my Beastkin parts." Kal rubbed her ear. "I knew something bad was coming, just not how bad."

"There were quite a few others there that were doing the same thing." Anton held his chin. "Maybe they were former Beastkin slaves now living as mercenaries."

"I find it hard to believe that a Beastkin would willingly work as a human mercenary." Marion frowned deeply.

Verona laughed as she rested her chin on her hand. "Just like a half breed Beastkin falling in love with a human. Right?"

Marion opened her mouth to retort but after one quick glanced at Kal it fastened shut as she looked down at the table.

"But." Anton continued. "Now that we have more than one Beastkin living in Atros if one of those portals tries to open we'll definitely know about it."

"Any idea when the next one is supposed to happen?" Jonathan asked. "These Demons sound like they will be perfect against your...project, that you have me working on. I have not made much progress since it was pretty dangerous the last time and we will go through that blue powder pretty quickly. Did you find out where it is made?"

"Yes...But that brings up the last and equally troubling topic. And I'm glad that Cetina isn't here for this one."

"Oh..." Verona trailed off.

"After dealing with the Demons we returned to Porswea. We met the lord, very productive meeting I thought since we got a ship out of it."

"A ship?" Bertram asked. "For free?"

"Yep." Verona folded her arms and nodded. "That's my Anton for you. How do you think we got so many Beastkin out of Seocuria so quickly?"

"After meeting with Lord Cassius we went along with Cetina to try and rescue her father from some very nasty women. Unfortunately," Verona and Kal grumbled. "We were too late. They had butchered and mutilated her father and, unfortunately again, she saw all of it. Nearly broke her there and then. But these weren't just some ordinary bitches. These two were witches. Strega witches."

"I've never heard of them." Bertram shuffled in his chair. "And I was privy to a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to know.

"Never heard of them either." Marion gently rubbed her face.

Ndale shook his head.

"Well, a city watch captain knew what they were just by looking at their magic. And Lord Cassius was equally disturbed to know they had been in the city. They seemed pretty strong but we attacked with everything we had straight away, so I don't know how it would have gone if it was an even fight. Cetina managed to kill one and the other escaped. And I'm all but certain that she wants revenge on us for killing her daughter."

"Seems like you made a strong enemy there, Anton." Zac sighed. "Not that it doesn't sound like we have enough enemies to deal with."

"We spoke with someone on the way that seemed to know them quite well. She said they wouldn't be a problem if we don't go after them. That might be a little hard for Cetina..."

"So what are we looking for?" Dennis asked. "I don't know what a witch looks like and I'm certain that my men don't either."

"Watch out for any sort of green smoke." Verona began, waving her hands like bubbling smoke. "Or flashes of green. That's what they used as their magic. And I think they can use it to control people's minds too."

Verona looked up at him while everyone paled.

"I believe so." Anton sighed. "Worst is that the person might have no idea they are being influenced. A witch tried it on Cetina but it didn't work and another on Lord Cassius, which was more successful."

"If these witches get the drop on our men..." Dennis looked at Jeff. "Then they might be able to take over everything and we wouldn't even know."

"Kal and I will prepare some enchanted bracelets that should ward off their magic. I don't know how effective it will be but something is better than nothing."

"This is all turning into one giant mess." Bertram rubbed his temple. "It was so much easier when it was just the Goblins."

"Witches?" Ndale asked exasperatedly. "Goblins, Kobolds and Demons?" He retreated into himself and shook his head. "It was all so simple but a season ago."

"That would be nice." Anton chuckled. "But a lot of good has come from it. Marion, Kal's mother, has been freed from over fifty winters of slavery and many more Beastkin besides, with many more to come. Ndale and the Seocurians are no longer at the mercy of a horde of Goblins...And...Something good for me personally." Anton shuffled in his seat. He had not felt this nervous when he had proposed but now, telling everyone, was a different matter. "I proposed to Verona and Kal in Graterious. And they said yes."

The room went silent, except for a slight grinding noise from Marion, until Zac broke it with laughter.

"Ha. I told you all that something like that would happen. This is the third time you owe me now."

"You must be cheating." Jonathan cracked a smile. "I do not know how, but..."

"Both of you?" Sybil asked. "Together with Anton?"

"Yes." Both replied simultaneously.

Sybil frowned ever so slightly as she looked at Verona. "And you are okay with this?"

"Absolutely. I wasn't expecting Anton to propose but of course, I'm fine with it. Better than fine, actually. And this just makes it more official."

"I've never been happier." Kal smiled as she shrugged. "I could only dream of having someone before. And..." Kal laughed as she played with her ring finger.

"I don't know how polygamy is handled here, but if anyone has a problem with it they can take a hike. I love them both and I will not give them up."

I feel like I said the same exact thing last time.

"So long as they've agreed to it, I don't think anyone has a problem with it." Bertram smiled. "No one complained when you came back with Kal on your other arm."

"Indeed." Dana agreed. "Most of us expected something like that to happen. This isn't much of a stretch. You three are acting all lovey-dovey when we look at you anyway."

"Perhaps...We've been talking about the ceremony and we aren't sure what we really want. I don't think we want something as big as yours, Jeff."

"Where is Sam, anyway?" Verona looked around the room. "I was going to say something sooner..."

"She's not feeling that well so she's having a rest. This whole Goblin thing we just had to deal with has put a lot of strain on her and her baby."

"After we've gone to the smithy we'll swing by your house and make sure she's alright." Anton raised his hand. "I'm sure a quick healing won't harm her."

"Thanks. I really want to have a kid. And we've had to wait for so long..."

Verona told me Sam's previous pregnancies have resulted in miscarriages. But those times we weren't there.

"I really don't want a big ceremony but something small would be nice," Kal said. "Or we don't really have to have one." Kal rested her tail on Anton's shoulder. "The most important thing is who you are going to spend the rest of your life with."

"That's right." Verona held his other hand.

"See?" Dana leant close to Dennis, brother and sister nodding in agreement.

"Over the next few days we'll organize something. It won't be big." Anton squeezed their hands. "It's who you're with that is."

"Have you got any rings?" Jeff asked. "I know you got mine and Sam's..."

"Yes. Yes, we do." They took off their gloves and showed their wedding rings. A few murmurs came from the group.

"How much did you pay for those?" Jeff leant as close as he could. "They look a lot more expensive than mine."

"A bit," Anton admitted. "But we had come into a bit of money and I wanted to spoil them."

"Those are some impressive gems," Zac said.

"And metal work too," Jonathan added quietly.

Bertram's eyes widened. "I almost forgot. We haven't had any word from Duchess Belinda. Not one thing. I have no idea if everything is alright over there."

"What about Raston?"

"He should be back in the next couple of days." Dana folded her arms. "If anything's gone wrong he will know."

"I have some more of those communication pens to hand over. Where are they kept?"

"In the next room." Bertram looked to the wall. "We check up on them frequently. Usually, I'm there at night, just having a rest and waiting for one to start."

"Right...Anything else that needs discussing?"

"Only one thing." Zac hurriedly rose up and left the room, leaving everyone looking at one another confused. He returned a minute later with a small barrel under one arm, several wooden mugs in the other hand. "That is to say, welcome back!"

Chapter 110 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Good Tidings

Chapter 110 Pt.2:

Anton only had one drink, as did Verona and Kal. Not only was the concoction extremely potent but the girls were adamant not to cause any harm to a child they might be carrying. Anton had no idea if they were pregnant yet, not for lack of trying, but he agreed with them. They left the others to drink or return to their duties. Luna didn't want to leave their side, suddenly not so interested in receiving pats from strangers, and rested in the crook of Anton's arm.

When they stepped outside, the lingering fiery touch of the alcohol still swimming in his mouth, he was greeted with an almost deserted scene. Almost every Beastkin and Seocurian had left, hopefully properly directed to their new homes, leaving a few isolated groups. One nearby the Main Hall caught his attention, not that it was difficult not to notice them. Rasha, the three-meter giant blue Minotaur was speaking with Cetina intently while she had her horse’s packs, sword and shield resting near her feet. Eider, Irso and Ulyaa were speaking with an Atros guard, so too was Loretta and her two children. Kristof hung near the peripheries of the group, constantly checking the Main Hall for movement, probably for Marion.

"Is Marion still inside?" Kristof almost ran towards them, quite quickly for his size and mass. Up close he was much more intimidating, but his large physique was hampered by the concern drenching his face and the way his fingers picked nervously at one another. He didn't seem overly concerned but every moment without her was a strain on his mind.

"She-"

"I'm here." A voice came from behind. Marion stepped around them, her tail following her behind like a snake through the air, to reach Kristof’s side. "Why are you looking like that? I haven't been gone long."

"I know...I can't help but get worried. You know, us being in a human city."

Marion kissed Kristof's cheek. "My daughter stays it's safe so I am going to trust her. And Anton."

Anton gave a curt nod. He wanted at least an amicable relationship with Marion. Despite what Kal said, when Marion first questioned their relationship, she wanted a good relationship with her mother more than almost anything. If Anton and Marion had a bad relationship it would only hurt Kal.

"Have you been waiting here the whole time?" Marion teased Kristof and flicked his hair. "I can't imagine you did. Though you may have come back for the food."

"I wanted to stay but they dragged me away. They showed me to our house, it's pretty good actually, and it has a big strong bed and a rack where we can hang our clothes. Not that we have much…"

"And then you came back here for me?"

Kristof shyly nodded. Marion chuckled and kissed him again. "You are too cute sometimes."

Marion turned to Kal, her playfulness disappeared and was replaced by a crawling nervousness. "I...Uh. I suppose I'd better find out where I'll be living in this city. Will...Will I see you again?"

"I'll see you tonight for dinner." Kal smiled, trying her best to placate Marion. "You'll love it. Lots of food, drink and people to talk and laugh with. And everyone will be coming. Even someone like me."

"...Okay. This feels really weird. To just walk away knowing I'll see you again...But I'll see you at dinner."

Kal lunged forward and hugged Marion tight. Marion wasn't prepared and her body went rigid. Slowly Marion brought her hand up and gently stroked Kal's head.

"I missed you." Kal whimpered into Marion's shoulder. "So much. You don’t know how much I did. Every day I wanted to see you again."

"Me too, Kal. Me too. I didn't want you to go either..."

"Atros is my home now." Kal gently broke the hold. "And I want it to be yours as well."

"I'll try Kal." Marion kissed her forehead. "I really will. Now, a big lump and I need to find our new home, then I think we'll have a wander about this city. Get to know where we are and how to get around Atros easily. Find all the little backroads."

"Thank you, mother." Kal kissed Marion on the cheek.

Marion took Kristof's hand. "Anton. Verona. We'll do our best to make this work."

"I know you’ll succeed." Anton smiled. "I know you will."

Marion and Kristof nodded and began walking to the east. When they were out of earshot Verona pulled on his sleeve.

"Do you think they're going to explore Atros or the bedroom?" Verona smirked. "Because I know which one I think she wants."

"Definitely the second one."

"Right? Those Minotaur's-"

Kal clamped both of their mouths shut. "Please don't talk about my mother having sex. It's...It just feels..."

Anton scratched Kal's ear, she manoeuvred her head into his hand. "And I'm sure that's exactly what Marion felt when she found out we have sex."

"Don't forget about me," Verona smirked and reached for Kal's tail. "I bet that only made things worse."

Kal sighed and held Anton's hand. It felt incredibly good to hold her hand and not through a glove. "Probably pretty bad. I hope that she likes it here."

"She'll love it." Verona laughed. "Once she settles in."

"Please..." Kal groaned.

Anton laughed as Kal shook her head. "Come on. We'd better see everyone else before we go."

"Is it me or are all the Minotaurs big?" Verona asked calmly. "I mean, look at the size of her."

Verona nodded at Rasha, but Anton knew what she was talking about. Rasha stood still, occasionally glancing towards them, with one arm underneath her breasts and the other holding her chin. Out of all the large women in Atros; Verona, Loretta, Marion and Ulyaa, she was clearly the biggest. Cetina craned her neck up to look the three-meter tall Minotaur and appeared to not be looking down, though it appeared to be very forced.

"I guess it's in their blood." Anton mused. "If they're meant to be related to cattle then that would make sense..."

Kal sighed. "My husband and sister wife spend their time staring at other people's breasts."

"You don't have anything to worry about there," Verona said nonchalantly.

"Have you checked everyone in Atros?"

Verona shrugged. "Just with my eyes. And you are fine."

"Very fine." Anton squeezed Kal's waist. She dramatically rolled her eyes but a smile crept up her face. "Let's go talk to them rather than just watch."

Cetina saw them approach and nodded towards them. Rasha smiled as she gave a small wave.

"Anton," Rasha began, immediately followed by a covered cough. "Kal, Verona. I didn't think I'd get a chance to talk to you right away. Or, at all. I’m just one Beast-kin. You all seem rather busy."

"We are." Anton smiled back. "But we can always make time to make sure everyone's settling in well. How are you finding Atros so far? Have they shown you to a house yet?"

"I'm very impressed with this city." Rasha looked around, nodding at everything. "It's...I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. To be able to just walk where ever I want..." A tear came to her eye, one quickly wiped away. "I can't...Thank you, for saving us. For bringing us here."

"It was our pleasure."

"And your house?" Kal asked. "Do you know where that is?"

"Did they make it big enough?" Verona asked.

"I didn't think of that." Anton frowned as he held his chin. "You're really the only person taller than a human. And I don't think I mention that to Bertram once we reached dry land. If it's not big enough I am terribly sorry."

Rasha shook her head and hands, her whole body shook. "No, No. It's fine. Really. My horn hit the top of the door when I walked in, and I had to get down a bit, but it's really nice. The bed's big enough. And...I really won't be spending that much time in there, apart from sleeping."

"If you say so." Anton looked back at the Main Hall. "When I see Zac again I'll let him know-"

"It's really fine." Rasha cut him off. "Besides, I'm near people I know and that I can talk to." She nodded to the other Beastkin still speaking with the guard. "I don't really want to let go of that."

"So long as you are fine with it. So, and I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

Rasha nodded to the other Beastkin. "They left and I didn't want to just stand about in front of my house. I found Cetina waiting here so I started speaking with her. Since...Since she will actually speak with me."

Cetina chuckled. "More me listening than speaking."

Rasha's long ears flicked back. "I was just a little too excited I suppose. This place isn't a dream..."

"What did Rasha want with you?" Verona asked.

"Rasha heard that you asked me to be a trainer and she wanted to know more about it."

"I...” Anton had a thought in his head. “Since you'll be a trainer, Cetina, what weapon do you think Rasha should use?"

Cetina perked up and straightened her back. She looked Rasha over, something that caused the blue Minotaur to frown slightly, before biting on her lower lip.

"Well, I don't think a sword, like mine, is going to be much use. Rasha is incredibly strong and she could easily break or bend it on her first swing."

"Not to mention she would look a little ridiculous," Anton said. Rasha cocked her head and frowned. "Instead of a sword, it would look more like a little dagger."

"Oh.” Rasha laughed. “That would look a little strange...I think. Would it?"

"So a larger weapon then. Maybe a spear, like Verona's..." Cetina's eye lit up. "Maybe something like a halberd. That would probably be a good choice."

"I don't know what that is." Rasha looked almost apologetic.

Cetina looked to them but Verona and Kal shook their heads.

Anton raised his hand. "It's like a spear but it also has a large blade as well as the point with a hooked point on the other side. Is that right?"

Cetina nodded, she appeared happy with his response. "Yes. That's it. A few of the soldiers in Thessos used them. They're really good. They have the benefits of a spear and axe combined. But...It does mean that, in order to use them, you can't use a shield. Both hands are needed to wield it."

Anton pulled a worried face. "Which would mean that if anyone got too close, basically underneath you, you wouldn't be able to defend yourself. Since even you will need both hands to wield such a weapon effectively. Well, maybe you could have a dagger or short sword but you’d have to drop your halberd to use it."

"So what does that mean? That I can't fight?"

Anton shook his head. "Not at all. But you won't be going into battle on your own. There'll always be someone near you for support."

"Someone like me, I suppose." Cetina glanced at her sword and shield. "Keep them away from you while you deal out the big attacks. I think that could work. A large halberd would probably be the best choice for Rasha. And, as Anton said, a short sword for defence since you won’t have a shield."

"I don't think Jonathan has anything like that," Kal said softly. "And with everyone new needing a new weapon, not to mention the...project thing you have him working on, I don't think he'll have enough time to make something that big."

"True..." Anton held his chin. Rasha looked rather disappointed, that she wouldn't be able to fight properly. "For now, would you be comfortable using a spear?"

"I was just using a big stick before."

"But you were just swinging that around." Verona shrugged. "Using a spear is a bit different to that."

"That's why they're all going to get training." Anton ruffled Verona's hair. "When I first met you, you had been practising how to twirl a spear around your arm. Remember?"

Verona's face reddened. "Yeah. Yeah. I spent a lot longer practising that than I should have." She laughed again but she was clearly still embarrassed, a hard pinch on his waist told him so.

"So how does that sound Rasha?"

"I like it. I know I'll need a lot of practice, so I don't hit anyone by mistake." Rasha looked at Cetina then to the ground. "But I'll do my best."

"With people like Jeff and Cetina teaching you, you'll be an expert in no time."

"You're just saying that." Cetina's lips curled up into a sweet smile. Verona nudged his side but he ignored it.

"However I don't think there will be any training today." Anton looked around the near-empty plaza. Beyond the boundary, he could see many small groups of Seocurians and Beastkin wandering about with Atros guards running between them. "Seems like it will take a little while for things to settle down anyway...Oh. There is going to be something tomorrow morning."

"What's that?" Cetina asked.

"Goblins." Verona held a smile, the seething hatred seeped through the mask. "We're going to take out the nest where the ones that attacked us came from. It's a small mountain that we passed on the way here."

"That one?" Rasha pointed to Mount Aspire, the snow-capped mountain that nearly loomed over Atros.

"No." Verona chuckled nervously. "You don't want any that come out of there."

Cetina and Rasha looked at one another. Both were lost.

"We'll tell you another time," Anton said. "But would you be interested in joining? There shouldn't be much to do but it'll be good practice. And having you two join will really help us out in the long run."

"I don't see how but I'll come." Cetina looked at her sword and shield. "I've got to earn my stay somehow."

"I'll definitely come." Rasha frowned as a hoof ground on the cobblestone ground. "But I don't even have that stick anymore. Or any armour. All I really have are these clothes." Rasha pulled on the rough fabric. Anton heard some of the fibres break and fray. "Surely I need something like Cetina has."

"Maybe you could wear her chest piece over your leg?" Verona suggested.

Rasha raised her leg, with equally impressive musculature as her arms, and then to Cetina. "It...It might actually fit."

"This is mine." Cetina thumped her armour. "Get your own."

Rasha laughed. "But, I do need something, Anton. I can't go into battle like this. That whole thing with the Goblins and that cloth, I got lucky there."

"One of the first places we're going is Jonathan's smithy. He does all the metalworking and gave Verona's very first piece of armour."

"It really helped. In more ways than one." Verona pulled on his hand. "That's something we need to get done as well. I'm sure everyone's back’s will appreciate it."

Again Cetina and Rasha looked at each other confused.

"After everything else is done." Anton kissed her head. "But luxuries like that need to wait until we've defeated the Goblins."

"Right. Just don't forget it. I'd like to walk around in just normal clothes once in a while."

"What are you two talking about?" Cetina tilted her head.

"Don't...Don’t worry about it." Kal smiled. "It'll make sense when it's done."

"But, as I was saying before, we'll see Jonathan and see what he has to say. We might just have to fit you with a wooden shield and spear to start with. Making a piece of armour that’ll fit you properly will take some time."

"I understand." Rasha folded her arms underneath her breasts. "Soon I might know what it's like to own stuff, other than this."

"Everyone who's going on this outing will be meeting here just after dawn. If that's the case then we'll see you there. Cetina, have they shown you to your house yet?"

"Not yet, Anton. They said they didn't know if Kal still lived in it and it'd be rude to just put my stuff there."

"I've already taken everything out." Kal ran a hand along the edge of her ear. "Except the bed. So I don't know what they're talking about. Maybe they just wanted to be sure, I don't know."

"Well, that's good. But they didn't tell or show me where. I've taken everything off my horse but it's quite heavy. I thought I'd wait until you were done so I'd know for sure."

"I think Anton still wants to talk with Irso, Loretta and everyone else so we could be a while." Kal looked at Anton with a stern smile. "But I know he won't take that long. I know that we'd all like to return to our house and maybe spend a little bit of time there."

"We'll be as quick as we can." Anton gently kissed her on the lips. "But, Cetina, it might be best if you move underneath the Main Hall's veranda, just to keep the sun off you."

"Okay. Just don't keep me waiting too long." Cetina began picking up her goods.

"Kristof and Marion live basically across the street from my house." Rasha tapped a hoof on the stone ground. "So I'll head there now. At least I'll have someone to talk to. I'm looking forward to dinner. Make sure that they don't give me any meat. Otherwise, I’ll be down for days."

Rasha chuckled before she walked to the east, giving one final wave as she disappeared from sight.

"Cetina?" Anton began. Cetina, with both packs over one shoulder and had just finished picking up her weapons, stopped and looked up. "Do you have any spare clothes? I've only ever seen you in what you've currently got on."

"I have two spares of this." Cetina stood upright a day shuffled the weight. "Other than that, no."

"They stand out so easily in the wilderness," Kal said. "When...When we first met you I could see you before the bandits."

"I...Can see what you're saying. But I still like these clothes. They remind me of better times."

"If you do join us in leaving Atros I think you'll need something less conspicuous."

"Less what?" Cetina scrunched her brow.

"Less obvious. But for now, it's fine. With so many new people, in ratty clothes, it's going to take a while before we can get spares."

"Oh. I understand." Cetina turned to the Main Hall. "I'll just be over there. Please don't take too long."

Cetina grunted as she trudged to the Main Hall.

"Let's see what the second group wants."

Both girls chuckled once as they followed him. Ulyaa, the arachnid Beastkin, was the first to notice them approach. Her two rear spider legs twitched as she turned around. Could she feel vibrations through the ground? Elder and Irso looked as well, followed by Loretta and her children. The Atros guard, who looked more than a little exasperated and exhausted by a protracted conversation, took the opportunity to flee.

"Hey, Anton." Eider laughed. Ulyaa gave a small wave while Irso looked on blankly. It would be some time before she opened up, if ever.

"It seems one of our guards just took the opportunity to flee." Anton smiled as Eider and Ulyaa looked back to find the guard gone. "I know it's only been a little while but is everything okay? Are you settling in alright?"

Eider nodded. "Ulyaa and I have just been shown our new house."

"It looks very good." Ulyaa's fingers gripped together. "Far better than the cells we used to have. But...ugh..."

"We wanted to clear our heads a little." Eider continued, lightly bumping Ulyaa's shoulder. "So we decided to go for a bit of a walk. Normally we couldn't do that so it's all a bit weird. I keep thinking we’ll be yelled and beaten at any moment."

Ulyaa glibly nodded. "When we came back here we saw one of your guards that wasn't busy. We wanted to know more about this place and he seemed like a good place to start since you were busy and we won't always be able to speak with you."

Anton looked at Irso.

"I don't have a problem. I just wanted to make sure they are safe, safe in this human city."

Still grouchy as ever.

Irso picked at her teeth, dislodging a piece of gristle. Anton doubted there would be many willing to pick a fight with a Drakeling like her. Not only were her many teeth razor sharp but so too were the claws on her hands. Kal and Eider also had claws instead of fingernails, Ulyaa upper half was completely human by comparison, but they were only sharp at the points. Irso's had a ridge running down the middle of her claws that looked equally as sharp. Perhaps Avery's misgivings about some Beastkin using certain weapons was not entirely unfounded.

"With you here, Irso, no one is going to approach. For better or worse."

Irso frowned as she pondered his words. Quickly she gave and shrugged in defeat.

"I won't see them hurt." She mumbled.

"What did he tell you anyway?" Verona asked. "Only good stuff about us, right?"

"That was the problem," Irso said. "It started off with asking about this city but then it quickly drifted off."

Eider nodded furiously. "Well, it was hard not to keep going. What they said about you is incredible."

"A little too incredible," Irso mumbled.

Eider poked her arm, Irso looked at the point and glared at Eider who simply ignored it. "In a way, yes. Atros had almost fallen to the Goblins. Everyone was fighting right here and then bang!" Eider's hood widened as she threw her hands into the air. "Lightning struck hundreds of them and they scattered. Then they found you, someone they'd never seen before wearing strange clothes and no memory. Is that really true?"

"That's..." Anton looked at Verona. "Basically true."

"Wow." Eider giggled, very strange coming from her. "That's just...unbelievable. And from there you ended up saving us..."

"Do you not remember anything from before?" Ulyaa asked.

"Not much. A few little fragments but really nothing." Anton laughed, trying his best to hold a smile. "I'm just thankful that I could understand them when I woke up. But...I couldn't read their writing for some time."

"That's really strange," Ulyaa said softly. "But I'm glad that you did. He made it sound like Atros wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"You flatter me, Ulyaa." Kal, very gently, pushed on Anton's hand. "Those sort of stories, of our small adventures, we can easily discuss it over dinner tonight."

"Oh...Oh, right." Ulyaa perked up and smiled warmly. "That'll be great."

"Food and stories." Eider breathed a sigh of relief. "And we don't have to do it in hushed whispers either. This will be great. Will there be meat?" Irso grunted.

"Yes. There should be. It might be salted but I'm not sure there will be some."

"Is it going to be dried and hard?" Seamus asked. "We've only...ever...had...fish...before…"

Once everyone's attention was on him, Seamus floundered a little. He, Loretta and Lili had been patiently standing and waiting for their turn to speak. Anton had kept an eye on Seamus who, despite his earlier assertion, was glancing often at Eider's and Irso's rears. If Anton was honest they weren't bad rears, especially Eider's.

"Probably not," Verona replied, smiling wildly to lighten his mood. "But it's what we had a lot on our travels. Especially when Kal couldn't find anything to hunt."

"Which wasn't often," Anton added. "She's extremely good."

"You kept us going during that trek," Loretta added.

Kal fought back a rising flush but it was pointless. She gave in and allowed it to cover her face, her tail began to swish through the air more quickly and her ears pulled up slightly. "Thanks."

"We'll make sure that you get some fresh meat." Verona patted Seamus's head. "You can count on us."

Seamus nodded as he looked up, his eyes fixed on Verona's chest that even with her armour on did little to hide her curves. He snapped his head away when he saw Anton looking him dead in the eyes.

Loretta rubbed Seamus’s head as she and Lili sighed at his obvious ogling. "I was actually here to see where that person that I might be interested in meeting is."

"But you've only just arrived." Anton scratched his head. "Isn't it a little soon to be worrying about that?"

Loretta shrugged. "No time like the present, at least that's what my father used to say. Why wait? I'm not getting any younger. I’m older than everyone here."

"Who is she talking about?" Verona asked.

"Since I know that Jonathan doesn't have much free time with his work, and doesn't really get the chance to socialize, I thought I'd introduce him to Loretta and see how things go."

"Which one is Jonathan?" Irso asked. She looked to the Main Hall. Cetina had her eye closed and appeared to be dozing. "I saw a few people head into there. Was he the bald one with you or the big man with the barrel under his arm?"

"Neither. The bald man is Jeff, in command of our military, and the big hairy man built a bit like a bear, is Zac. He's in charge of construction and mining."

Irso nodded slowly. He wasn't entirely sure but she almost appeared happy that they weren't Jonathan. Anton put it to one side.

"I don't know if you saw him go in but Jonathan is the one with the two children."

"Oh yes. Just after you three went inside." Loretta giggled as she licked her lips. "He seemed like quite the hunk of meat. Kids seemed really nice as well."

"And children aren't a problem?" Anton asked.

"No. I didn't have a problem when you first asked and I don't now. Why should it?"

"I just wanted to make sure. Sometimes...Anyway, his children can use some of the magic that I can. Fire and lightning, to be exact."

"Right." Loretta looked at her children and brought them close. "So you two be nice to them. Understood?"

Both nodded, Anton felt that they would have anyway.

"Oh." Verona tugged on his sleeve again. "Speaking of our blacksmith."

Johnathan emerged with his children in tow. He stopped when he saw Cetina sitting and resting against the wall. She looked up at him, the change in light had also alerted her, gave a small wave and nod before returning to her dozing. Jonathan was perplexed by her behaviour, truth be told so was Anton. It must have just been the nerves of being somewhere new. Jonathan pulled a face before continuing forward.

"Jonathan!" Anton yelled. The blacksmith turned towards him with a slightly confused face. "I need to talk to you."

Jonathan jogged over. The Beastkin girls only then started to appreciate how strong he was. Not that anyone who swung a hammer all day wouldn't look like that.

"Is something wrong, Anton?"

"Not exactly. I'd like to introduce you to Loretta and her children, Seamus and Lili."

Jonathan smiled at Loretta and held out his hand. It took a moment for Loretta to understand the intention but she quickly shook it. Anton saw the strain in Jonathan's face to keep his eyes focused up, especially when she was bouncing up and down. If Anton looked or at least was caught looking, his sides would be black with bruises.

"H-Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you, Loretta. These are my children, Shawn and Jocelyn."

He gently pushed them forward, Loretta mirrored his action. They awkwardly shook hands before they started talking rapidly amongst themselves. There was no hesitation at all.

Jonathan smiled at the sight. "There are not that many children that mine can actually speak with."

"Are they being bullied?"

"No. With their work as apprentice smiths, I am the head smith of Atros, they do not have a lot of time or the same...interests. They are usually just with me…"

Jonathan trailed off as he looked down. Anton looked at Verona and Kal both of whom shook their heads. None of them knew of this issue, one which clearly took its toll on Jonathan.

I doubt it's just that. Verona said that after gaining her power almost no one wanted to speak with her. After seeing them fight the Goblins, and knowing beforehand that they had the same powers that I have, can you really blame them for being a bit scared? At least Seamus and Lili aren't.

Anton clapped his hands, bringing Jonathan out of his stupor. "On the subject of the smithy, as you can see Loretta isn't some weak waif that's going to break the first time she lifts something. A lifetime of working as a fishermen will do that. That also means she doesn't mind getting her hands dirty from time to time."

"Someone's got to gut the fish." Loretta shrugged as she laughed. "And it was usually me."

Jonathan smiled as well.

"Since that's the case, I was thinking that she could work in the smithy with you, bring her children along to help as well. What do you think?"

"Yeah." Jonathan coughed awkwardly. "Yes. I would be delighted to have you working with me."

"Great. Where..." Loretta looked at the trails of smoke rising from the buildings. "Where is this smithy of yours? I can't see the smoke trail leading to it."

Anton cut in before Jonathan could speak. "Why don't you show her where you work? I'm sure Loretta would like a tour of the city."

"Since we're going to live here that would be great." Loretta slipped in close and wrapped her arm around his, pushing his into her considerable breasts. "I'm sure you know your way around this place."

This confidence...Where was it when you were in Jaka being beaten by your husband? Was it that you were afraid of leaving, for your children, or striking back despite being so strong? I guess I'll never know because I'm not a father.

He glanced at Verona and Kal.

I pray to all the gods that I never turn into someone like that.

"Of course." Jonathan smiled, Anton guessed he knew what was happening. "I would love to show you, and your children, around."

"Thanks." Loretta gave Anton a tiny wink. "I suppose I'll see you at this dinner of yours."

Jonathan gave him a nod before walking with Loretta towards the smithy. Their children looked at one another, their faces blank before they shrugged and jogged after their parents.

"Do you think that will work out?" Verona asked. "I mean, they really don't know much about each other."

"They, at least for now, look happy." Kal shrugged. "I didn't exactly think I was going to fall in love with a human when I first met him."

Anton chuckled. "But I knew you were both cute the moment I laid eyes on you..."

If I keep going down this path I could end up in trouble.

"So we'll just wait and see what happens. Who knows, it might turn out really good."

Kal slinked her face close to his. "You were going to say something else. Weren't you?"

"Nope," Anton said adamantly, turning his head away from Kal. "I've got no idea what you're talking about."

Kal pulled a face as she wiggled a finger just outside his ear. The tip of her claw brushed and tickled his against his skin. Anton twisted his head away but Kal didn't relent. Anton turned and pulled on her arm, catching her off balance, and brought her in for a hug. Kal pouted but accepted it, Verona chuckled and shook her head.

"I suppose that we should get going too," Eider said. Anton had almost forgotten their presence. "Though...I'm not really sure what we should do now."

"Aren't you going to finish your walk around Atros?" Verona moved a hand behind Anton's back, moved underneath his clothes and pinched hard. "I know we'd probably like one too but we've got a lot to get done today."

"It's not really..." Eider looked at Ulyaa, both held a troubled face. "I... I think we might just head back. We don't want to get lost on our first day here and there's not much for us to do anyway."

"You said that we wouldn't be given any work until tomorrow, right?" Ulyaa asked.

Anton nodded. "Yes. Right now everything's a bit of a mess and it'll take some time to figure out where you'll be best at. There's no point in putting you somewhere that isn't compatible."

"Well." Irso raised her arm and stretched it over her head. "I worked in a forge in Seocuria. And it sounds like you've got one here..."

"When someone asks you, either what you're good at or to go somewhere that isn't the smithy, tell them that and I told you to. That should be enough."

"Thanks."

"I don't know what I'm really good at." Eider shrugged. "So we'll just have to see what happens."

"It shouldn't be anything too difficult." Anton smiled and tried to placate Eider and Ulyaa, with some success. "By the way, tomorrow we will be gathering here at dawn to deal with the Goblins, so they can't threaten us again. If any of you are up for it just turn up and we'll give you weapons and armour. You shouldn't be doing much but I think it'll be a good step towards getting everyone in this city to really bond and work together. Are you interested?"

Irso shrugged. "Don't know." She looked at Eider and Ulyaa. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure." Eider scratched on the edges of her hood, focusing on a single line of scales. "The thought of fighting again isn't..."

"Rest on it and tell us in the morning." All three nodded to his words. "Now, we need to get going ourselves. Cetina still needs to be shown where she'll be sleeping. And it's not on the veranda of the Main Hall."

Cetina began picking up her gear upon hearing her name. She had, if Anton was being honest with himself, waited long enough.

Ulyaa looked and nodded. "We'll see you tonight then."

"Where are you three living?" Kal asked.

"Over on the east side," Irso spoke gruffly. "I'm next to these two and Rasha, Marion and Kristof are pretty much right next to us. I didn't think they would let us stay together like that."

"We'll come around when we're done with our things and see how you're doing."

As the three began to walk away Kal raised her hand. "Just wait a moment."

They looked oddly at one another as Kal quickly approached Ulyaa. Ulyaa's body pulled back but not fast enough for Kal to grab her in a hug. Irso watched with a silent judgment and Eider cocked her head.

Kal suppressed a sniffle. "I'm so happy that you three are free and safe. I’ve never forgotten the kindness you showed me."

Ulyaa relaxed and returned the hug. Kal gave her a little squeeze and moved to Eider. Eider whispered sometimes to Kal, both giggled, and gave her a harder hug. Kal turned to Irso but she smiled awkwardly. She wasn't ready to be touched by someone like Kal, even though they were friends. Irso coughed and held out her hand. Kal laughed as Irso's face lightly twitched at the sensation.

"Thanks for saving us." Irso smiled. "Just in case no Beastkin has said it yet. We'll see you tonight."

All three gave a polite nod before moving towards the east.

"Now." Anton began. "How is Cetina doing?"

---[]---

"Is this the place?" Cetina asked.

Anton's arms felt heavy. He carried both of Cetina's packs over his shoulders. It felt rude to make her carry everything to her new home after making her wait. Anton had offered to take them but he was expecting Verona or Kal to take one. Instead, they made him carry both. Apparently they had yet to forgive him for his words earlier.

"Yes, it is." Verona happily tapped her boots on the veranda outside of Kal's old house. "Kal spent the...huh, I guess it was only a few days really, but this was her home."

Anton bounced one of the packs resting over his back. "Cetina's one strong girl if she can carry both of these and her weapons at once."

"They're not that heavy," Cetina said. "It's more about how you carry them. You try to put all the weight straight down your body so you don’t have to try and fight the weight. That’s what I learned moving heavy crates in-"

Verona coughed loudly. "Excuse me, but I'm trying to give Cetina a brief explanation of the history of her new house."

Luna, nestled safely in Kal's arm, squeaked loudly. What she was trying to convey Anton had no idea, judging by her relaxed demeanour after Kal began scratching her head she simply wanted more attention.

"It'll be fine Verona. All of you, it'll be fine."

"Well..." Verona scratched her cheek as she opened the door. "There isn't exactly a lot in here. Umm, there's a desk, a chair and a bed. That's about it."

Cetina peered inside. "It's not bad. I wasn't expecting a palace. This looks a bit like some of the Inns that we stayed in Graterious."

"With a lot less strange smells," Anton added. Kal laughed and even Cetina let out a chuckle.

"I think we were going to move this into our house at first," Anton said. "But...Turns out that wasn't an issue. How was the bed anyway Kal?"

"It was pretty good, all things considered. A lot more comfy than our rucksacks."

Cetina entered the room, walked to the centre and spun around, checking the few features of the room. Anton gently placed the two packs against the wall.

"What do you think?"

"Considering what I'm used to, this is great. More importantly, I have a room to myself. That didn't happen very often."

"If you want to take a nap before dinner I suggest that you bar the door with the desk." Cetina raised a brow to his words, a hand rested on the hilt of a dagger. "Again, like I said to Kal, there shouldn't be a problem. But...There is a possibility that something could happen to a pretty girl like yourself, and if the door is barred it should be enough to dissuade them."

"At the very least it'll wake you up." Kal peered through the door. "It's not the quietest thing."

"Right...I think I might just go for a walk instead. I've got a lot to think about and sitting in a room really isn't going to help."

"Definitely take your sword with you." Anton picked up the blade. Despite looking like a normal steel sword it was considerably heavier than he expected. "No one is going to be stupid enough to try something with that hanging off your hip."

"Thanks." Cetina took the blade and attached it to her hip. "I do feel safer when it."

"Don't forget about her eye, Anton." Verona couldn't help the smirk creeping up her face. "That way she won't be almost running into things or grasping at thin air."

Cetina flushed as she held her face firm. Anton didn't want to say anything but Verona was right. Even taking the sword she reached out until her fingers touched the handle, with only one working eye she had no depth perception. And it was clearly getting on her nerves.

"I want to get a few things done first and then we'll sit down and get that sorted."

"R...Right. I can still fight even with one eye."

Anton shook his head. "Nope. We're going to get it done this afternoon. No excuses from any of us."

Cetina sighed in relief. "Okay. So, where do you three live?"

Anton exited the house and pointed across the street.

"Oh." Cetina looked along the street. "It's right there. And it appears to be the biggest house in Atros."

"It's actually two houses stuck together," Verona said as she closed the door. "I would have been happy with something the size of my old home."

"But it was only you and me then. It would be a bit more crowded with the three of us."

"Yeah...Now we've got lots of spare rooms. When you get that portal thing of yours working we need to buy some good stuff from Graterious."

"We'll get on that."

Cetina grumbled at the mention of Graterious. Many painful memories swirled through her head.

"I'm off. I won't be leaving the city but I don't know when I'll come back. But..." Cetina rested a hand on her sword. "I won't go somewhere I'm not supposed to. Or that looks dangerous. I'll be fine."

Cetina gave a small wave and a smile before she was off, walking quickly towards the western wall.

Verona and Kal moved closer to Anton. They both looked at him with a small amount of worry.

"She'll be fine." Anton ruffled their heads and gave each a quick kiss. "Over the past few days she's been working and moving, not much time to think deeply on what's happened to her. At least she's going for walks and not back to drink."

"Or something worse," Kal mumbled. "There are far worse things out there than alcohol."

"Like that Purple Shade stuff they give to the Beastkin." Anton shook his head.

"How did the Seocurians work that out?" Verona asked. "Did they force some poor Beastkin just to try everything and see what happens?"

"Probably." Kal and Anton answered simultaneously.

Verona stuck out her tongue. "Gross. But...We should still keep an eye on her. She can't buy any here but that doesn't mean she won't do something potentially silly to get some."

"Not much we can do but keep an eye on her." Anton gave them another kiss. "Are we finally ready to go back to our house that we've spent...About two, maybe three days together in?"

Verona laughed. "It was needing a good dusting before you took Kal. I wonder how bad it is now."

"I just hope there aren't any squatters." Anton laughed but the girls turned cold as ice.

"If someone thinks they could sleep in our bed..." Verona growled as they approached the door. Kal said nothing but her face said enough. If someone was in there they wouldn't be alive in the next few seconds.

Anton took a deep breath as he opened the door. The interior was as empty as before. But something about it made him feel calm. This was their home, safe from any of the terrors of the outside. Anton looked at the floor. While it needed a decent clean the thin layer of dust had not been disturbed anywhere. They were the first people to enter in some time.

"That's good." Kal peered around Anton's shoulder. "I can't smell anyone either."

"I trust your instincts, Kal. Now, let's let Luna have a bit of a run around her new home."

Anton took Luna from Kal's arms. She went limp in Anton's hands before she was placed on the wooden floor. Her head darted about, she took several deep sniffs at the air, before turning around and looking up expectantly. Her short white tail began wagging as her doey eyes darted between them.

Sometimes I think you are a dog that just looks like a baby deer.

Anton knelt down as Luna approached him. "This is where you'll be living from now on."

He wasn't entirely sure why he was speaking to Luna like she was a child, he did not consider her practice, but she appeared to understand.

"Now, we live inside but you've got a whole space outside where you can run about and sleep. Do you want to see it?"

Luna squeaked, which Anton was sure was a yes. Anton stood up and walked along the corridor. He peered into the rooms as he passed. All were empty, just like they were when they left. Upon reaching the end he opened the door to their bedroom. Again, everything looked exactly the way they left it, even down to the folds in the fur blanket.

"Home at last," Anton remembered the very fun and exhausting nights, albeit few in number so far. "But you can wait for a bit longer."

Luna wanted to enter their room but Anton gave a sharp whistle and Luna came running after him. Verona and Kal laughed at how attentive Luna had become. Anton opened the door to the grassy patch of dirt they called a garden. For a second Luna was hesitant to take the first step, her front hoof pawed at the weedy grass. When she realized it was safe she leapt from the door and ran through the long grass, darting and weaving around the clumps of weeds. From the sounds she was making he knew she was having the time of her life.

"Should we just leave her here for now?" Kal asked.

"Yeah." Anton nodded at the white blob darting through the grass. "Better leave the door open just in case she wants to come back inside."

"But." Kal pulled on his hand. "Aren't we going to...you know?"

Verona squeezed his other. "Yeah. I thought that was the idea. Let Jonathan and Loretta have a good chat which gives us to time to be husband and wif...wives for the first time. In our house."

"You two." Anton pulled both into his chest, freeing his hands and sliding them underneath their clothes to reach their pert rumps. He squeezed very hard, his sinking deep into the soft flesh, eliciting unbelievably seductive moans and whimpers. "Are utterly insatiable."

"And whose fault is that?" Verona pulled him down for a kiss. Anton obliged her but didn't release his grip. When he finally parted from Verona, Kal was red-faced and patiently waiting her turn. When he was finished with Kal he loosened his grip only slightly.

"Some handsome and dashing man must have done that. Who could that be?"

Verona laughed while Kal smirked and rolled her eyes.

"But, as much as I would love to push you both down and bed you right now-"

"I can tell." Verona purred before looking up to Kal. Her arm rested along his crutch. "Men have such clear signs they are ready to go."

Kal laughed as Anton smiled. "But if I were it would be like Porswea all over again. We might as just call it a day now and say we'll see them tomorrow."

"Ehhh..."

"And we do have a lot to do."

"I understand." Verona's wild smile returned. "I just wondered-"

Anton squeezed their rears again. Verona yelped and tried to grab his hand while Kal gripped his arm tight.

"But don't think I've forgotten this. You two had better be ready for tonight."

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Kal whispered into his ear. "Our dear husband.”

Anton wanted to push them both down right now but he held himself back.

"In all seriousness though." Anton kissed Kal's forehead. "There is something we need to discuss. And that's what we do next."

"We can do that." Verona smiled. "But first could you release your hand. My left cheek is starting to go numb."

Anton released their backside and simply moved it to their waists. "Let's head to the garden and discuss it there. See how Luna's doing."

They found Luna at the door, unsure if she could step into the house. Upon seeing them she perked up and tentatively stepped inside. Once all her limbs touched the wooden floor she raced towards them. Anton shooed her back out, which confused her for a moment before she realized they were following her. She danced around them as Anton sat against the wall, Verona on his right and Kal on his left side. Both rested their legs on his, unfortunately they were still covered by boots, while Kal coiled her tail in his lap.

"I think that even with how difficult it’s going to be to settle them, we should start freeing more Beastkin. And without paying for them too."

"Getting them back here is the problem." Kal smiled as Anton played with the fan ends to her tail. "But with that portal thing, if it works, it should be easy."

"Not as easy as just buying them," Verona said. "If we buy from multiple places it will take time for them to realise what's happening."

"We do still have those gems." Anton mused. "The rubies, emeralds, bentonite and tanzanite. Those last two are worth hundreds of gold coins each. And Beastkin don't usually cost what your mother cost, let alone Kristof or Rasha. Both approaches sound like a good idea. Getting back to the ship might be tricky..."

"Yeah." Verona stretched out her back as Luna approached her for a scratch. "That chasm's still there and the whole place is probably teeming with goblins now. It'll be tricky to get it back."

"Unless...Unless we head back to Qaiviel." Anton began. "Then head up through Bebbezzar and to the north-west of Seocuria. We might be a little less conspicuous there than we were in Danafra."

"Everyone gave us a good stare." Verona chuckled.

"But Bebbezzar is supposedly in a civil war." Kal frowned as she pursed her lips. "That doesn't sound like a safe place to travel. And Cetina said there was some nasty stuff happening near the border. Oh, wait." Kal winced slightly. "That was Eluria."

"What a bitch she turned out to be," Verona grumbled.

"True." Anton gave their legs a squeeze. "But I don't doubt her words, at least regarding that. She had nothing to gain by lying. And Adara confirmed it. If we do head that way we should definitely take Cetina with us. She knows the land better than us, and I'm sure she would like to go home. Thessos, I think it was called."

"If she goes there she might not want to come back," Verona said flatly.

"That's her choice to make. I don't think she's had much in the way of choice in her life so far." Verona slowly nodded. "And I'm not going to force her either way."

"Right..."

Kal shuffled closer. "Cetina and Duran made it sound like Bebbezzar had a lot of stuff that we might want. Building materials and weapons...If we find one of their larger cities and make a portal there we could buy everything we need. Though it’ll be difficult to get more people from there."

"And start to sell some of our goods. Our hoard of money won't last forever, especially when we have tens of thousands of people. It'll evaporate really fast then."

Kal held his shoulder as she tilted her head. "Why...Why didn't you bring this up at the council meeting? I'm sure they'd have something to add to this."

"Because..." Anton held their hands. "Because I didn't want to tell them, right after we've arrived, that we need to be going in a few days’ time. With the Demons and the growing Goblin attacks, we need to work and move even harder. And I'd like to get a lot of the groundwork done before my wives have to retire for the next three seasons, as you shouldn't be travelling with a swollen stomach."

"It's not a good idea," Verona said quietly, Kal agreed. "At least that's what Sybil and Sam have said about it. When our bellies start to swell then we need to take it easy. For both our sakes."

"How long before we start to notice it?" Kal asked. "I haven't exactly been able to ask anyone."

"A few months into pregnancy." Anton gently rubbed their stomachs underneath their clothes. "Right now it's the beginning of autumn, so it shouldn't be until the start of winter or so before you really start to notice any changes."

"Will I have a human or a Beastkin child?" Kal gently placed her other hand on the one rubbing her stomach. "I'm not sure how it works."

"It might be a quarter Beastkin. Or a full human. I've honestly got no idea. But I know they'll be beautiful." Anton turned to Verona. "They all will."

"Damn right it will." Verona laughed.

Anton smiled and pulled them close. Being a father had never been a priority, but now that it was happening, and two beautiful and lovely women would be carrying his children, he was becoming more excited. And nervous. Soon he would have the responsibility to raise at least two children. And that was different, far more personal, than what he had been doing so far. But between the three of them, they would succeed.

Verona and Kal felt his tension and rested their heads on his shoulder, holding him in return. They remained in their semi-tangled state for several minutes saying nothing and simply enjoying the warmth and contact of one another.

Finally, Anton gently pried them off him as Luna began to headbutt his foot.

"I'm sure they'll send someone in a minute." Anton gave them a quick kiss. "Or they think we've run off to bed."

"Then they probably won't even try until the morning." Verona chuckled as she picked up Luna.

Kal brushed the fragments of grass off her behind. "First to Jonathan's smithy then fix Cetina's eye. Right?"

"Yep. After that-" Anton's stomach growled, growled loud enough to silence everything. Verona and Kal burst into laughter, Anton joined them as he fought back a tiny flush. Pushing back the pangs of hunger could only work for so long. Now he noticed how hungry he actually was. Verona and Kal hadn't eaten anything too, neither had Luna.

"First we swing by somewhere with food. And milk for Luna." Anton scratched her head. "She's probably as famished as we are."

"And she's so small compared to us." Verona shook her head. "There must be nothing left inside of you."

"I can't wait to get some proper food." Kal smiled as she linked an arm to Anton. "I don't like the feeling of an empty stomach."

"Me neither." Verona took his other arm. "I can't think straight. So, it's your treat."

"Don't think I haven't forgotten about tonight," Anton smirked at both girls. "I'm not going to forget something like that so easily."

Verona laughed. "I guess that we're all going to need our strength then, won't we?"

Anton kissed them both and held them tight as they returned to their house.

Chapter 111 - Vol 4 - Weapons of the Old Gods

Chapter 111:

Anton, after taking a quick detour to a food storage barn, where the four ate and drank their fill, decided the smithy was their next destination. Humans and Beastkin passed them by along the streets of Atros. The Beastkin looked very nervous, their tails hanged low and still and their posture closed and guarded, but some were less so. Anton didn't give them more than a passing smile but he overhead discussions that’s sounded promising. Many were talking about tomorrow's work and what it would entail and not in a negative way. Others asked about Anton freeing more Beastkin. It was all very heartening stuff to hear. Doubly so since he didn't hear anything bad, one couple of turtle Beastkin appeared to be having some sort of panic attack but a human and a canine Beastkin were calming them down and telling them to keep breathing.

What concerned Anton the most, personally, was their reaction to Kal, the reaction to a human feline half-breed. Most Beastkin held a subdued near reverence as they passed but Anton saw a few with looks of utter contempt. There was no way he could miss the guarded sneer and the eyes of hate directed at Kal. The moment he looked anywhere near them they turned away but he knew their intent. What they might try in his absence, even though without them they would still be prisoners. Thankfully with their presence, none were willing to try anything. Kal knew how to take care of herself. The third dagger on her hip, taken from the slain Orc Zig, was proof of that. But it still worried him. And he had no idea what to do about it. The idea they would still hold such archaic views about racial purity even though almost all of their kind were still in chains was baffling. He made a note to ask Marion about it later, perhaps after dinner. Talking during dinner about such an unsavoury topic would be crass and ruin the atmosphere

They moved in silence until the clanging of metal and the distant crackling of fire drowned out the murmur and clamour of city life. The Atros smithy had doubled in size, again. Four large brick chimneys gently poured a steady stream of black smoke into the sky. From within he could hear the pounding of metal on metal, coinciding with grunts and shouts of exertion. Even with the Goblin threat only dealt with a few hours ago the smithy was in full swing.

"How much bigger is it going to be each time we come here?" Verona slyly remarked to Anton.

Anton rubbed his beard. “If…Much bigger. If I can get everything done that I want to then the smithy will have to be bigger than Atros is now. Perhaps even a few times larger.”

“That’s a lot of that special project of yours.” Verona frowned as she leant forward. “How many do you want to make?”

“Not just that.” Anton smiled. “There are a lot more things I want to bring to this world. Things far more interesting than a cannon or a gun.”

“Like what?” Kal asked.

“It’ll be hard to explain. But in order for it to work, we’re going to need a lot more metal. And rubber. Do either of you know what that is?”

Verona and Kal shook their heads after glancing at one another.

“Oh well. We’ll figure that out later, or if there’s an alternative.” Anton shrugged. “But my future plans will just have to wait. I’m really curious as to what Shawn and Jocelyn have made.”

“If they’ve managed to actually to…infuse something with some of your powers…” Kal smiled. “I don’t know if it’s ever been done before. At least I’ve never heard of one.”

“Considering the Old Gods are essentially outlawed in everywhere except for the Deweth Clans, I don’t think anyone’s going to admit having a weapon or armour with their power,” Anton said. “Doesn’t mean that someone won’t just lie about it. Cetina did say that normal mages were able to make those heating stones somehow…”’

Anton shrugged again as they moved inside. A few eyes turned towards them but they quickly returned to their work. Jonathan wasn’t the only smith in Atros, though he was originally the only one, as they had brought several from Qaiviel as well as their apprentices. They worked hard, covered in a mixture of soot and sweat over large fires, hammering swords and armour into shape. None, not even the youngest apprentice, was slim or weak in any way. There was simply no way one could be weak after working in a place like this. One smith nodded towards the back of the smithy. Anton saw Jonathan and Loretta talking near a rack of swords and spears in a secluded room. Their children were absent but once Shawn and Jocelyn realised they had a chance to show off their work they would emerge.

Luna, still nestled in his arms, dug her head deeper in an attempt to avoid the near-deafening noise. Anton remembered Kal’s sensitivity to noise. When he turned back Kal had already covered her ears but still appeared to be in no small amount of discomfort. How Beast-kin, at least those with sensitive hearing, could work in such a place and not be deafened was beyond him. Perhaps certain breeds, like Drakelings, had some sort of higher tolerance to noise.

The noise began to wane as they reached the secluded area. Several wooden walls acted as buffers and reduced the noise to a far more manageable level. It was still loud but at least his ears were no longer hurting. Jonathan spotted him first and gave a small wave.

“Hello, Anton. I was beginning to think that you were not going to visit us today.”

Anton chuckled, taking a quick glance at the women standing either side of him. “I’ll tell you it was a little difficult to decide to leave, especially since it’s the first time we’ve had a bed in some time.”

Kal’s tail flicked through the air as she shook her head.

“But we made a promise to see their work and now we’ve come. So…Where are they?”

“Right now they are in the back room.” Jonathan nodded to an ajar wooden door. When Anton focused he could hear something that sounded like children talking. “We have put some of the more important stuff there, like the special items that you had me make. Do you want to see it now?”

“Sure. I know that they’ll be happy to show off their work.”

Jonathan smiled. “They have been very excited to show you. Ever since they made the first piece.”

“I don’t think this is for me.” Loretta chuckled. “From what Jonathan was telling me earlier I know it’s all going to go over my head. And I really should explore this place a little more with my children since, you know, we’ll be living here from now on.”

“Right…” Jonathan wasn’t that happy about her leaving.

“Well…Maybe I’ll stay for a bit.” Loretta flashed him a smile. “Could actually be fun. Even if I have no idea what’s going on.”

“It feels like that for us sometimes,” Verona said. “But we just go along with it.”

Anton nudged Verona, who flashed him a wicked smile in return.

Jonathan poked his head through the door. “Shawn? Jocelyn? Could you please come out here? We are ready to show off your work.”

The noise stopped, followed by a light scrambling of feet on dirt, as Shawn and Jocelyn emerged, their faces beaming with pride. Seamus and Lili followed soon after, though clearly more than a little confused as to the other twins sudden burst of happiness.

“Hey!” Shawn said loudly. “Are you ready to see our work?”

“Calm down.” Jocelyn held her brother's arm but it did little to diminish the enthusiasm burning through his body. Through their bodies. “They’ll think we’re weird if you don’t take a deep breath.”

Shawn looked at his sister and followed her words. After a few short breaths, he was back to normal.

“Where…” Seamus looked around. “Where are the others?”

“What others?” Verona asked, tilting her head.

“Do you mean the Beast-kin we were travelling with?” Kal asked. “Cetina, Rasha, Eider, Irso and Ulyaa?”

Seamus nodded.

“We can’t just drag them around all the time with us.” Kal smiled faintly. “They have their own lives to live now.”

Seamus appeared to understand but Lili gave him a sideways glance. He was probably annoyed he couldn’t ogle them. Not that Anton blamed him, they each had their own alluring traits.

"So where are you hiding these fancy pieces of armour that you've made?" Anton asked. "Oh, and congratulations on making metal tools all by yourselves. I know your father is very proud."

Shawn and Jocelyn smiled, a faint flush crept up their necks.

"We couldn't have done it without Dad helping us." Shawn laughed as Jocelyn nodded seriously. "They're in the back room. We were just showing them to Seamus and Lili while..."

Shawn trailed off as he looked between his father and Loretta. It was clear on his face that he didn't know what to say.

"While they were talking, Shawn." Jocelyn continued. Shawn coughed lightly, grateful that his sister had intervened.

"Yes...They're back here."

Shawn and Jocelyn led them into the back room. Only a single window, heavily barred, allowed any light into the dim room. The far sides were filled with more steel weapons and armour but a large table in the centre held their prize. Four items lay on the table, two almost glowed a fiery red, slowly pulsing and twisting over the dull grey steel. The other two glowed a bluish purple, these marks were much thinner and moved far more violently and erratically than the flames.

"I take it these are them?" Anton asked. "If so they look really interesting."

"No one would say these aren't magical," Verona added.

"So how did you make them look like this?"

"Well..." Jocelyn looked at her brother. "It's just what sort of happened after we started putting our magic into them as we made them. We didn't want them to look like that. It…Just sort of happened."

"But we, at least I, like how they look." Shawn gently slapped the table. "I think they look really cool."

"When I tried to push some of my magic into a weapon, my fire and lightning at least, it just wouldn't work. And when I did it to something that was alive." Verona looked at Anton in silence, her eyes filled with worry. "It didn't exactly have favourable results."

"We didn't try that." Shawn frowned light.

"Don't," Anton said sternly. "Don't even think of trying."

"Okay..."

Loretta quietly asked Jonathan what he was referring to. Jonathan replied something too soft for Anton to hear, but Loretta quietly nodded.

Jocelyn cleared her throat. "We made these by gently pushing our magic into it as we made them. It took a lot of mana just to make these four."

Kal looked at Anton. "Did you put in everything you could every day?"

"Yep." Shawn rubbed his temple. "After each time we felt really tired and we couldn't walk straight. Dad made sure that we didn't use too much."

"Otherwise he'd give us a spanking," Jocelyn added calmly.

Jonathan could only awkwardly smile underneath their scrutiny.

"Did you have to touch it when it was still hot?" Anton asked. "I know that I can only do the same sort of thing by touching whatever I want to change. Don't tell me you touched it when it was red hot?"

"No!" Shawn shook his head. "That would be...No. It just felt like it was flowing into whatever we were working on. Through our tools…We weren't touching it with our hands most of the time. Some big leather gloves..."

"It is difficult to describe how it feels without actually experiencing it, isn't it?"

Shawn and Jocelyn nodded.

"I..." Jocelyn swallowed. "I just imagined what it would look like when I was done as I tried pushing my mana into it."

"Same." Shawn folded his arms and nodded towards his sister. "But I don't know if I did the exact same thing."

"It doesn't matter. I think that Atros's first two Mage Smiths have done an excellent job. To prepare two examples of both of your powers with no training. Doubly so since you are still children. Truly incredible."

Everyone agreed with Anton's words, only adding to their embarrassment. No one could have such praise heaped upon them without becoming at least a little embarrassed. Either that or they were huge egotists.

“Thanks…Thanks.” Shawn clapped his hands. “So, do I show mine first?”

Jocelyn nodded as Shawn ran to the table. He stood proudly in front of the two items pulsing with flames. One was a small metal hammer and a small shield, more of a buckler than what most people in Atros used. Jocelyn stood behind hers; a small knife, another small buckler and another hammer, all rippling with the blue and purple lightning. Anton didn’t see the knife the first time as it was almost hidden underneath the buckler.

“These are what I’ve managed to make.” Shawn smiled as they approached. “A hammer and a small shield. Dad said we shouldn’t go for things that are too difficult right away.”

Jonathan nodded silently.

“So could someone please hold the hammer?” Shawn held the hammer out. “You’ll know what I’m talking about the moment that you touch it.”

No one was willing to make the first move so Anton did. When his fingers touched the metal a warmth filled his body. It clearly wasn’t natural but he didn’t dislike it. If anything his body, even his breathing, felt lighter. Easier.

“I feel warm,” Anton said. “And a fair bit stronger as well.”

Shawn nodded. “That’s right.” Anton passed the hammer to Kal. The warmth faded slowly over the next few seconds. “It makes you feel really warm inside.”

“That’s it?” Verona asked, raising a silver brow as Kal passed the weapon to her. “Seems like it should do more than that.”

Shawn held up his hand as he stepped away from the table. He returned with a normal hammer in his hand and a thin piece of wood in the other. Verona took the normal hammer and looked at him blankly as she held one in each hand.

“Try swinging the hammer onto this piece of wood.”

Verona shrugged as Shawn placed the piece of wood on the end of the table and slammed the hammer down. The wood bounced but a small depression remained embedded into the wood.

“Okay…”

“Now try the new hammer.”

“Okay…”

Verona did as she was bid after Shawn turned the wood around. The flame hammer struck the wood and split it in two. Verona looked at the hammer with shock and incredulity.

“That’s different.”

Verona passed the hammer back to Anton, eager to part with it. The warmth returned to Anton, about half as it did at first, then returned to full once Verona let go.

“It makes you stronger!” Shawn happily smiled. “Quite a bit too. Dad says he could lift things…How much was it again dad?”

“About half as much again,” Jonathan said. “I did some tests and that is how much more I could do. And I did not feel anything strange or odd after touching it. I did not want to do it too much until you got back, just in case it was doing something bad inside.”

Let’s see if it did anything to me.

Anton chanted a healing prayer on himself. There appeared to be nothing that had changed. He quickly searched through his body with the magic, the sensation of water rushing underneath his skin was very odd, and couldn’t find anything either. If Jonathan was worried about the flame magic perhaps burning through one’s own life force or something else to gain power, it appeared those valid concerns were unfounded.

“Fifty percent more strength is insanely strong.” Anton mused. He looked closely at the rippling flame markings. They had not lost their intensity despite changing hands multiple times. “Too strong, really. Perhaps the maker has some very high skill with handling the magic.” Shawn smiled wildly. “It’s almost like it enhances the fire within you and makes you stronger. And I don’t feel anything odd after using it. No fatigue or tiredness. I just checked and couldn’t find anything. But everyone that touches these weapons should speak up if they feel anything strange. But, if you could make these into swords, spears or shields then it would help us greatly. I could only imagine someone like Zac wielding one of these flaming war hammers.”

“Um…I don’t think the shield would do anything.” Shawn spoke softly. “That’s the other thing. When I hold the shield I don’t feel the same warmth. It wasn’t bad…just different.”

Anton returned the hammer to the table and picked up the small flame buckler. The warmth this time was far more dull like it was lingering underneath the surface of his body. In fact, he couldn’t feel much else. He poked his skin and could barely feel it.

“I feel…like my sensations have been dulled. I can’t feel my fingers poking my skin.”

Shawn nodded. “Yes. But it doesn’t make you stronger, like the hammer does. I don’t really know what it does…”

Shawn looked quite disappointed, he only had two creations and one appeared to have no benefit apart from the dulling of senses. Perhaps that could be good for a soldier so he could keep going despite being in the thick of combat and receiving a pummeling.

“What…Since magic depends a lot upon what you’re imagining when you make it, were you thinking of a shield as you were making this?”

“Yes.”

“And a shield is meant to defend, not attack. At least normally. Has anyone tried to use it as a shield?”

“I’ve hit it with a normal hammer,” Jonathan said. “But it sounded just like a normal shield. I had to bend it back into place after I was done.”

“Dad…”

“Perhaps when someone’s holding it it’ll work.”

“Are you going to hold that while someone swings a sword at you?” Loretta asked. “I don’t think your two lovely women here would like that…And I know there’d be a whole lot more that would be just as sad.”

“So…” Kal’s fingers fidgeted. “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to do anything that dangerous.” Anton rubbed Kal’s head. “I just want Jonathan to give it a tap while I hold it.”

“That’s what Loretta means,” Verona said. She looked over Jonathan. “He’s a lot bigger than you are.”

“I know that Jonathan won’t do something like that.” Anton smiled at Jonathan, a single shiver rippled down Jonathan’s face. “But I do need a normal shield to compare. Do you have one that’s sort of like this?”

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Jonathan raced out of the room and back into the clanging chorus of the smithy.

“What are you talking about?” Shawn asked Loretta, tilting his head slightly.

Loretta looked at Anton as was about to speak when Jonathan returned. He held a near identical small buckler, barring the flame writhing over the surface.

“Some of the apprentices make some of these so the smiths can judge their work.” Jonathan shrugged as he passed it to Anton. “It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. And at the worst, we can just melt it back down.”

Anton readied a stance, at least he thought he was, many of the girls playfully snickered at his stance. Anton rolled his eyes as Jonathan picked up the normal hammer.

“Are you sure about this?” Jonathan held the hammer nervously in both hands.

“If anything bad happens I can just heal myself. But…Don’t go all out. Okay?”

Jonathan glanced at Verona and Kal, sighed lightly, and readied himself. Anton raised the buckler as Jonathan struck. The metal clanged and Anton’s arm shook from the strike, letting out a groan as pain seared through his arm. Jonathan looked shocked as Verona and Kal raced to his side.

“Shit,” Verona said. “Are you okay?”

Anton shook his arm and removed the buckler. “I’m fine, you two. I know what I’m doing.”

“But you’ve got no training or any real practice in melee.” Kal gently stroked his upper arm. “It was bad enough when you got struck by that green smoke magic.”

Verona nodded furiously. Anton shuddered mentally at the sensation of his bones snapping and lungs collapsing.

Maybe having Cetina as a trainer might actually help.

“I’m fine.” He kissed Kal. “But I might want to actually get some proper training for once.”

When he turned back everyone looked oddly at them. The children looked confused while the adults looked smug. Not every person had two beautiful women who doted on him the moment he appeared hurt.

“But…I know that a person wouldn’t stand up to Jonathan with a war hammer. Last time I saw you fight it was against the Goblins from Mount Aspire.”

“Ugh. Those were bad days.”

“That they were.” Anton took up the flame buckler. “I guess I understand how much that hurts. Now, hit it again with the same force.”

Anton chanted a healing prayer. The pains faded away as Verona and Kal stepped back. Jonathan sighed as he struck again. This time it felt far lighter, like it was a child that struck him. He looked at the buckler as Jonathan stepped back. The dent looked the same, Jonathan clearly put in the same force, but Anton barely felt anything and he hadn’t used anything to make himself stronger.

“I barely felt that,” Anton explained. “But you clearly hit as hard as you did before. The dent…”

“So you’re more resistant to damage?” Verona asked. “But not the shield. So it’s just your body…What use is that?”

“I suppose you could keep fighting for longer.” Kal offered. “If someone like Cetina…I don’t know if it would work on her, had a shield like that it would make her so much stronger. I know she’d like that if she really wants to pursue a path of becoming a Witch Hunter, or whatever Ferula said.”

“True. We’ll need to see how it reacts to Ghlyirl.” Anton looked at Jonathan. “Do you want to have a go?”

“No.” Jonathan smiled awkwardly. “The battle with the Goblins was close enough to combat that I had. Well, that and the Kobolds but you weren’t there for that.” Verona made a noise and looked away. “But that is why I make weapons and armour. To keep everyone safe.”

“Certainly better than being ripped to pieces,” Anton spoke softly as he placed the buckler on the table. “Good work Shawn. If you could make shields or even armour like this it would go a long way to helping everyone.”

“Thanks, Anton. I’ll do my best. But I won’t be able to make many or that quickly.” Shawn slapped his arm. “I’m not that old or strong.”

Anton reached over and patted his head. “Whatever you can do I know will be fine. We shouldn’t have to ask children to help in places like this but it’s what we have to do-”

“But we like working here.” Shawn frowned at Anton, so too did his sister. “What else would we be doing?”

That is a good point. We don’t have an education system like Earth does but actually having hands-on working is a good experience to have. Helps put things into perspective. I know would have benefited from that.

The pain in his head came back, nowhere near as bad but it was still a noticeable lump in his head. He took a deep breath and calmed his nerves. Shawn and Jocelyn looked a bit worried, clearly worried that his expression had to do with their words.

“You make a good point.” Anton continued. “I certainly won’t be stopping you, both of you, from doing something you love. What right do I have to do that?”’

Shawn smiled and his body relaxed.

“Can I show mine now?” Jocelyn asked.

“Absolutely.” Her father replied.

Jocelyn held back a look of joy, far better than her brother, as everyone's attention turned to her weapons. Jonathan and Loretta had at least one thing in common, their sons and daughters were nearly identical in attitude to one another.

"I..." Jocelyn coughed. "Excuse me. I did the same thing as my brother. And I made these three...things."

"Why did you make three and Shawn only two?" Verona asked slyly. "You don't want to be shown up by the girls."

"I did make one." Shawn looked away. "It's...It's not very good, that's all. It was my first try at making something...That's Jocelyn's fourth try."

"I...It is." Jocelyn looked a little embarrassed.

"Practice makes perfect," Anton said. "No one was ever good the first time they tried something. And if they say they are then they're probably a liar."

"Keep going," Jonathan said softly.

"Well, anyway, these are what I've made. And...They work a lot differently than Shawn's do."

"Instead of enhancing the fire within you it..." Anton trailed off, unable to guess what the lightning infused weapons would do.

"It's easier if you just take it." Jocelyn held the hammer out. Again Anton was the only one willing to take it.

He grasped the weapon but didn't feel anything apart from the cold steel. No prickling or jolts of any kind.

"I thought I would feel something like prickles running up my hands. But it feels normal."

"Your senses haven't just been dulled?" Kal asked.

"No...It feels just like a normal metal hammer." Anton looked at Jocelyn. "So what does it do?"

"Dad? Can I use the little metal shield?"

"Sure. It was only going to be put into storage or scrap it later. This is a much better way for it to go out."

Anton raised a brow as Jocelyn moved the other pieces away and placed the plain steel buckler on the table. He passed the hammer back to her, there was still no sensation as they touched it together or when he let go. Jocelyn took the normal hammer and slammed it down hard. The buckler bounced and rattled about, a small depression lay in the metal, but it was otherwise unharmed.

"Okay," Anton said softly.

"Just wait," Jonathan replied.

Jocelyn took the lightning hammer and struck the buckler again. Metal fragments spat out of the contact point as the lightning hammer pushed its way through the metal, only stopping when it reached the wooden table. Everyone stood stunned silent at the sight.

Jocelyn pulled the hammer out, several small fragments of metal fell inward. She scooped up a handful of the metal fragments.

"This." Jocelyn placed the hammer down and held the fragments high. "Is what happens when one of these lightning weapons touch metal. It just breaks apart and falls away. Like...Like ash from a fire."

Anton took a fragment from Jocelyn's hand and held it close to his eye. No burn, stress or fracture signs were present. It had simply fallen apart. However, the edges were not smooth and uniform. Some were at very harsh angles, others flat or rounded.

"It's like it found every tiny stress and fracture in the metal and just caused it to pop," Anton said. "At least, that's the only explanation I have."

Verona and Loretta took a few pieces and handed them out.

Kal raised it into the air and close to her eye. "There's no sign of where it was broken. Even the cleanest cut on metal leaves something behind. But I can't see anything."

"Does it just work on metal?" Verona asked.

Jocelyn nodded. "Yes. It's actually harder to break wood or rocks with this hammer than it is with a normal one. Even longer than Shawn's fire hammer."

Shawn smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"And this is good for..." Loretta trailed off. "Fighting someone in metal armour. But the monsters don't have metal armour."

"A few do," Verona said very softly.

"So that means you're going to be fighting people." Loretta glanced at Kal. "You know what I mean."

"We probably will." Anton began. "Atros hasn't but we three have. And while I would like Atros to be free from the battles between Kingdoms and Empires I just know that's not going to always be possible. It's better that we have weapons that can deal with them, and never need them, then to need them and not have them."

"I suppose. A few good spears and swords would have helped in Jaka. Wouldn't have stopped the Goblins but would have slowed them down at least."

"Hmm...Jocelyn. Does this hammer do anything else?"

"K-Kind of. It can smash through metal but...is that some dried meat?" Jocelyn pointed to the rashes sticking out of Verona's pocket. "Can I have one of those?"

Verona was hesitant to let go of any food.

Seriously, where does it all go?

"Okay. But I want another one back."

"You'll get it back," Jocelyn said teasingly as she received a single strip. Verona caught Anton looking and shrugged.

"It's easier if I use the knife. This has the same...effect as the hammer. But it should be much easier to cut through some meat. Right?"

Anton glanced at Johnathan. He had no idea what she was doing.

"The edge is pretty sharp but..."

Jocelyn began madly trying to cut through the meat. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she pushed or where she cut it simply would not work. She removed the blade, her breathing was slightly faster than normal, and the meat only had a slight cut.

"Now that's interesting," Anton said. "It can't cut through flesh."

"Or anything really. Except metal."

"That...Hmm." Anton held his chin. "That is very odd. At least the flame weapons are easy enough to understand."

"Still don't know what that shield does," Verona said quietly.

“Perhaps…I don’t know.” Anton held the lightning hammer close. “Perhaps it’s vibrations? Lightning that agitates the metal and causes it to shatter? Who really knows? But the point is it works. Excellent…Someone who uses a lightning weapon would probably need to pair with a flame or a normal weapon, otherwise they’ll just be trying to, well, do what Jocelyn did to that for the next hour.”

Loretta and her children cocked their heads. They didn’t understand what Anton meant. He continued on before they could ask.

“If Jocelyn could make a war hammer big enough the sheer weight would be deadly. Smash their bones with just the force rather than cut through flesh.” He smiled at Jocelyn. “I know that might be a bit far away for either of you but it’s something that I’ll look forward to seeing.”

Both children laughed. Anton wondered what would happen if someone like Zac wielded a fire war hammer and smashed it upon someone’s head. Something probably like what happened with Rasha’s hoof and that green Goblin. Paste…

“Last one.” Anton clapped his hands. “So what does your shield do that’s different?”

“It doesn’t give you any strange feelings, like Shawn’s does, but it does have one special thing.”

Jocelyn took the normal hammer and struck the lightning shield. A terrible clang resounded through the air, Anton scrunched his eyes in response to the sharp noise. Jocelyn held the hammer high as small metal fragments, just like those from the metal shield, slowly fell off the end. She gave it a little shake and more fell off. The flat head was now broken and mangled, a layers worth of metal fragments had fallen cleanly away.

"Now that's really awesome." Verona stepped forward. "Does that happen each time you hit it?"

"Yes." Jocelyn struck the lightning shield again. Another layer of metal fell away, perhaps slightly less than before. "Every time. Until it turns to these little bits."

"Do those fragments break up again?" Kal looked at the fragment in her hand. "Does it become dust if you do it enough?"

"I...I don't really know." Jocelyn took a fragment and hit the shield. The fragment bounced away the same size. "I suppose it can't do it again."

"That-"

"There's just one more thing to show you." Jocelyn cut him off as she picked up the splintered piece of wood. She struck the lightning shield but the wood remained unharmed.

"So it only works on metal." Anton nodded. “What about the lightning hammer?”

Jocelyn winced as she readied to strike. “Everyone should cover their ears.”

Anton stepped back as Jocelyn struck the shield. Hundreds of blue sparks streamed into the air, a high pitched scream filled the air. Kal screamed as she winced in pain, everyone else staggered back as their senses returned to normal.

“Are you alright Kal?” Anton held her hand.

“Ugh…I think so.” Kal smiled nervously. “That was…loud.”

“Sorry!” Jocelyn spoke louder than normal, deafened slightly by the lightning scream. “It was easier to just show you!”

“Pop your ears,” Anton said as he opened his jaw. A rushing sound filled his ears and everything returned to normal.

Jocelyn followed his advice. “Thanks. I don’t know why that happens but…Well, neither piece is damaged.”

Indeed, both the lightning hammer and shield remained completely unscathed.

“Well, they probably are incompatible.” Anton mused. “I wonder what use that could be? Perhaps some sort of distraction? Regardless, that's still very good. A few of these at the front of a battle line...But they would need to be supported in order to work effectively. Most people don't have the strength to wield a war hammer effectively."

"I suppose we will just have to leave it up to Jeff to figure out how these can be used best," Jonathan said. "I'm no warrior or soldier."

"There..." Anton looked at Verona, who frowned and tilted her head. "There might be other uses for this other than war."

"That's good," Loretta mumbled. "I hate to say it but children shouldn't be making weapons of war. Even if they want to." Shawn and Jocelyn turned to her. "The fact that we need you to..."

"True." Anton nodded. "That would be nice. But that is the reality we need to face. For a long time I, and a lot of us thought that Verona's powers could only be used for fighting."

"Which did annoy me."

Anton gently ruffled her hair. "And we did find something useful that she could do. And I'm just thinking about these hammers...Could both of you make picks? You know, mining picks?"

"Sure." Shawn glanced at Jonathan. "Dad would have to show us what we need to do but I think we can...Why?"

"Fire enhanced picks could tear through dirt and rocks while the lightning would break metal seams apart with ease. The lightning hammers could be used to break down scrap metal into tin chunks, which I'm sure are easier to smelt back into steel."

"That is true," Jonathan spoke softly.

"And the flame hammers would make building a lot easier too. Everything you’ve made has a lot of potential."

The children beamed at his praise.

"What..." Kal scratched her chin with her claws. "What about my arrows? The heads are metal, so could it be done for those as well?"

"I think so." Jocelyn held up a small metal fragment and frowned. "They aren't much bigger than this...It'll be tricky but we can give it a go."

"It'll be fun sis." Shawn slapped the back of his sister. She groaned and rubbed where he had struck. "But I know I'll make more than you."

"We'll see about that," Jocelyn smirked devilishly.

Anton caught Verona frowning. "I don't know how one of those arrows would be any better than the ones you can already make, which you need to make a few more if I'm right. I think you're almost out."

"I still have a few left. I'll need to get some more soon."

"Right...But those enchanted arrows of yours are so dangerous, and deadly, that having them stronger or able to punch through only metal armour wouldn’t be that much more helpful." Verona pointed to her chest. "They wouldn't have much luck with going through this. But one of those lightning or fire ones would just explode if they struck me."

"Unless these enchantments enhance magic in some way." Anton offered. "But...But this isn't the best place to try that out."

"Please do not." Jonathan chuckled nervously. "It took us a long time to get where we are."

"Maybe..." Verona mumbled something before snapping her fingers. "What about a crossbow? A metal one, obviously. I don't know how the lightning would work but the flame could make it stronger. Maybe, I don't know."

"It's a good thought." Anton patted her head gently. "Shawn, if you ever get around to it I, we'd, be interested in seeing what it does. Same goes for you, Jocelyn."

"Can do." Both replied simultaneously.

"Right." Anton looked around the room. "That looks like everything. Splendid work, you two. And to you too, Jonathan. They wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

Jonathan laughed in an attempt to hide the faintest hint of a flush. "Thanks. Everything else is going very good as well. We could easily arm over half of the new arrivals if we needed to."

"Mom." Lili tugged on her mother's pants. Both of Loretta's children had been utterly silent until now. "Where will we be working? Can it be here?"

Seamus agreed. "It seems like it's a lot of fun too. Can we? Please?"

Loretta chuckled nervously, rubbed their heads, and looked at Johnathan.

“Well.” Jonathan looked a little apprehensive at Seamus and Lili. “It…It is not the easiest job. Everything is very heavy so you cannot be weak or frail. My children have been helping me most of their life, so they know what to expect. I just do not want you to get hurt. It is a real possibility. But…I do not have anything against you working here.”

“We have to do something in this place.” Loretta frowned lightly. “What would they be doing?”

“Not what Shawn and Jocelyn are doing. They are a very special case. I was thinking that they would help move stuff around the smithy. It would help the smiths and apprentices to not have to spend so much time getting stuff.” Jonathan shrugged. “And maybe, given enough time, they might be able to try smithing something.”

“Can we mom?!” Seamus asked.

“Will we be able to make things like Shawn and Jocelyn?”

“Now that’s something that I can tell you.” Anton approached and knelt before them. “What Shawn and Jocelyn have are marks of the Old Gods. Do you know who they are?”

Both shook their heads as they stepped out from behind their mother’s legs.

“It’s a little hard to explain right now, but only they can make those sort of weapons. Not even Jonathan can.”

Shawn raised his hand before taking off his shirt. For a young boy, he had a good physique, one made from working relentlessly in a smithy. He turned around and showed off the fire glyph etched into his back, smiling at Loretta’s children.

“Why did you have that?” Loretta pulled her children back from Anton. “Why do children have something like that?”

“It’s not just me.” Shawn put his shirt back on. “Jocelyn has one too.”

“So do I.” Verona pulled down the collar of her shirt and revealed the red flame-like tattoo’s liking at her neck. “And so does Kal.”

Kal nodded. Loretta looked a little concerned as she pulled her children close.

“I don’t do it.” Anton stood up. “If that’s what you’re worried about. They just happen when someone develops the ability to use the power of the Old Gods. It tends to happen during the night and it’s seemingly random. I really hadn’t spent much time with Shawn and Jocelyn and yet they were the next people to get a mark of the Old Gods after Verona. Kal only received hers when we were away.”

Jonathan leant forward slightly. “And if they did not Atros might be in a far worse state than it is. Without my children using their magic, the Goblins could have easily made it over the wall. And Anton would have to be healing hundreds of wounded people. I do not know how many would be dead.”

“Right…I’m.” Loretta shook her head. “Sorry. This is all a bit stressful for me. I’m in this new place and everything’s moving so fast and wild…”

“That happens with Anton.” Jonathan reached out and gently held Loretta’s hand. She, after a moment, gave it a little pat and held her hands in front of her lips as if in prayer.

“I can check them right now and see if they’re going to get any powers.” Anton knelt back down. “Although I think it’s only good for a day or so. Kal’s came out of nowhere and I had no idea Shawn and Jocelyn were going to get theirs in the middle of the night.”

“Hurt a lot too.” Shawn brushed the edges of his shirt. Jocelyn elbowed him hard, flashing him an angry look. Shawn immediately understood and hanged his head low.

“If you two could just step forward for me…” Anton searched Seamus and Lili for the small granule, the signifier of a budding glyph. “Nothing.”

“That’s good. I suppose.”

“But if your children want to work here I don’t see any reason why they can’t.” Anton stood up and returned to Verona and Kal’s side. “You aren’t exactly a weak woman yourself. Physically or mentally.”

“True.” Loretta’s face softened into a warm smile. “For a moment I thought you were the one who did that. Since you can use the same magic, at least that’s what Jonathan’s said. Do you have those as well?”

Anton shook his head. “No. For some reason I’m different. Apparently, you should only have one power but I can use three. I think it has to do with this.” Anton raised his hand and showed off the white gem embedded in his hand. “I think this is the only reason that I can even use magic in the first place.”

Loretta and her children peered closely at the white gem. They shrugged in defeat when they couldn’t discern anything from it.

“If you say so.”

“Since everything’s sorted, Jonathan, I’d like to borrow your children for a little bit. I need to show the new glyph users how to use their magic and teach a bit more to your kids. I didn’t exactly have much time with them before.”

Jonathan nodded. “Okay. You two have can the rest of the day off. I know that you were pretty tired after you practised last time.”

“Oh.” Verona bounced up and down. “We’ll need to get some of those Karak fruit before we start. I’m pretty sure that we’ve run out of those magic potions.”

“And we still haven’t been able to grow more of those trees yet,” Anton mumbled. “Not that we’ve really tried. Those fruits don’t seem to have seeds in them...” He shrugged and clapped his hands. “For another time. Time for some magic training!”

Chapter 112 - Vol 4 - Vision and Sight Restored

Chapter 112:

Verona sighed loudly as she leant backwards. Her hands, free from the restriction of her leather gloves, dug into the cool grass behind her and prevented her from falling further. She, Kal and Luna sat in the slim shade of one of Atros's inner walls as they watched Anton and the new Glyph users receive some much-needed training. Luna dozed at Verona’s side, every few breaths elicited a tiny and soft squeak.

"Shouldn't you be there as well?" Verona turned to Kal, sitting with her legs crossed and back straight unlike the slovenly Verona.

"Shouldn't you?" Kal asked back softly.

"Nah." Verona gripped the grass tight as she leant back further, turning her head to Kal. "My magic and yours is so different. There's nothing I can learn from this."

"And their magic is different to mine as well." Kal flicked her tail. "Though I can't say I don't want lessons."

"Yeah...Who would have guessed the type of people that were going to receive those powers, huh?"

Kal chuckled as she looked to the six people gathered in front of Anton. Shawn and Jocelyn were easy to spot, they were really still children even if they were skilled enough to make simple pieces of armour. The other four comprised of a young girl, one Verona recognized from before Anton arrived and slightly younger than herself, a middle-aged man and woman and an elderly man. Verona smirked remembering Anton's expression when they had assembled before him.

"I would have been shocked by who came before me as well."

"What did you say?" Kal frowned lightly at her.

Verona waved her down. "It's nothing. I was just remembering Anton's face when they all turned up at once."

Kal chuckled as her tail coiled in her lap. The six people in front of Anton held their hands out, a few had flickering balls of lightning and fire while Shawn and Jocelyn were able to keep theirs steady. It helped they had already been shown and had fought against the Goblins.

"Hey Kal?" Verona shuffled closer to the stunning half breed. Kal frowned but said nothing as her tail coiled itself tighter in her lap. "Can I play with your tail?"

Kal stared at her, the beautiful green eyes piercing her own before the tiniest hint of a smile eked onto her face. "No."

"Why not?" Verona tried a lazy swipe but Kal blocked her with an elbow. Verona pouted. "You let Anton touch it whenever he wants, which is a lot."

"Because..." Kal frowned as she blocked another attempt. "Because I know, with you, it's not going to stop there."

"And?"

"And once you get your hands onto someone it's difficult to get you off."

"Just let me pat the end." Verona pleaded. "I won't go any further. I promise."

"You've broken that promise before," Kal said softly.

"And, again, so has Anton."

"That's..." Kal flushed as she looked forward. "That's different."

Verona took advantage of Kal's momentary lapse in judgement and grabbed her tail. Kal yelped as Verona's hands snaked along her tail and held the fan end. Kal pouted as she looked at Verona, sighed and gave her most of her tail. Verona squealed in delight as she rubbed the soft fur on her cheek and twirled the three fan ends between her fingers. Kal was enjoying it too, not that she would ever admit that to anyone but Anton.

"You know, I've been thinking-"

"I've sure Anton would call that dangerous," Kal said slyly.

"Hey, last time I thought of something you ended up with Anton and me. So don't knock it, alright?"

Kal's tail stiffened as she curled her body into a ball.

Whoops. A bit too far I think.

"I'm just teasing you, Kal." Verona gently rubbed her shoulder. Kal quickly returned to normal. "But I am being serious here. I’ve been thinking a bit more and…What do you really want to do?" Kal frowned at her. "I mean, what do you really want to do now? Your mother is safe and so is our home..."

"I'll do what I said before. I'll follow Anton. He has a plan to see the Beast-kin freed and I intend to see it through."

"Right. I just wanted to know what you thought...Without Anton beside you."

Kal nodded, understanding what she meant. "Marion is safe, something I never thought would happen or even be possible. But...I do have some doubts at times. I...I would like to keep travelling and exploring, even when I was on my own it was pretty fun, sometimes, but I would also like to settle down a bit. I mean, how long have we actually spent in Atros?"

"All of us together? Probably under six days or something." Verona released Kal's tail as she stretched her arms. "But I hear what you're saying. If it weren't for those Demons we wouldn't have to be rushing all the time. Actually spend some time and relax."

A cry came from the new mages. One of the new mages held a small but steady lightning bomb above their hands. Anton was trying his best to make sure the wielder calmed themselves down lest they lose control. Verona knew the damage one small sphere could do. It was one of Anton's standard attacks after all.

"But..." Verona broke their silence as she began playing with Kal's tail again. "But if things have gone the way I hope they have we might not have a choice but to slow down a bit." Kal looked at her as Verona rubbed her stomach. "We've probably got one more adventure in us before we have to stop."

Kal laughed. "Anton isn't going to let us fight while we're pregnant."

Verona imagined the scene; both she and Kal pregnant, their bellies swollen and wielding their magic, fighting against hordes of enemies. Very strange. Verona laughed aloud as she brushed the image aside.

"But in all seriousness," Verona continued. "If we keep fighting like we have been I'm sure it'll hurt them. Anton said it's a very stressful time."

"For everyone involved," Kal added. "Does that mean Anton's going to have to keep going on adventures without us?"

"Yep. I think so. Atros is only going to grow really slowly without someone going out and getting more stuff and people."

"Oh..."

"What are you thinking?" Verona slinked up Kal's side and rested her heads on her shoulder.

"Well...We won't be there."

"Yeah..."

"Even at night."

"Yeah..."

"So what's he going to do for...You know? Nightly stuff."

"Not just the night-time stuff, right? But I'm working on that." Verona playfully nuzzled into her shoulder. "Don't you worry about that."

"You're still serious about that."

Verona righted herself and nodded furiously. "Absolutely. Anton, one day very soon, is going to be the ruler of something more powerful than the Kingdoms and Empires that surround us. He's going to need all the help and support he can get. In every sense you can think of. And..."

Verona looked around to make sure no one could hear. The nearest person was a disinterested guard on top of the wall, but he was very far away.

"And, and I'm trying to think about the future here, but there is a good chance that someone close to him will try to kill him one day."

"What? Why?"

Verona scoffed. "Why?" She looked at Kal's tail and her hands.

"Oh." Kal curled up slightly. "I understand."

"It might not be that." Verona sat next to her so their shoulders touched. "Say...Say if we do go into Bebbezzar, and find Cetina's old home, and we end up getting involved in that mess, there's a good chance that we're going to piss someone off. And there are meant to be a lot of rich people there."

"And they could wait for ages before trying something..." Kal glanced at her. "And they might not do it themselves but pay someone else to do it."

"Or a lot of someones. And it could come from anywhere. A human upset with the Beastkin living here, a Beastkin upset with Anton, a human, being in charge, or with him sleeping with a half breed. Who knows? But...The more people that he has around him that are totally loyal the better. They can't be bought or bribed and they'll fight with everything they have to protect him."

"Okay. But how does this fit into your little plan-"

"Our plan, remember?" Verona leaned closer. "You were the one who made up The Rules anyway."

"Yes...And if it happens I want them to follow it."

"Damn right they will." Verona laughed as she slapped her thighs. "Besides, I'm not thinking of bringing some harlot or slut into Anton's harem just because they look pretty or are skilled with their tongue. That way we could have ended up with that witch bitch Sancha, or whatever that whores name really was. The only people that should even be considered to join are those that have total loyalty before even the thought of actually sleeping with him comes up. Kind of like you. You with your proclamation of I'll follow you to the depths of hell."

Kal flushed vividly. "Yeah. And you too."

Verona smiled. "Yeah. Kind of. But mine isn't as pure as yours." Verona wormed her fingers underneath Kal's armour. "Besides, what better way than to guarantee complete and total loyalty than have them scream out his name every night."

Verona reached around further and tickled her toned brown side. Kal squeaked as she bounced away slightly, Verona held her tail with her other hand. Within a few heartbeats, Kal had already scrunched her face up to hold back laughter. She was very ticklish. Kal grunted as she returned Verona's attack. Both girls were laughing as they continued to squirm and tickle each other. Verona caught Anton watching them. She swatted Kal's rather sharp clawed hands away and nodded towards him. He would prefer to be frolicking with them, that much was clear on his face. He gave a small wave before returning to his task. All but one of the new Glyph users could hold a single steady sphere of magic, the older man. He was having trouble keeping it steady. The ball of fire would flare up before extinguishing itself in a way that Verona knew was deliberate.

He's probably getting scared that the magic is actually working. I know I was.

Anton looked at the sphere intently as it flickered in and out of existence. Judging by Anton's lips he was giving the older man words of encouragement, which appeared to be slowly working.

"Well, at least they're improving. Unlike the groping creature next to me." Kal lightly swatted away Verona's hands as they reached for her ears. "Soon Atros will be much safer. Six mages will be able to keep the Goblins at bay."

"That it will." Verona began to play with her tail again. "When Anton's finished with this, and we fix...speaking of."

Verona nodded to the gate. Standing to one side, to allow the light traffic through unimpeded, stood Cetina. The annoyingly tall woman scratched her head as she looked towards Anton training the new mages.

"Hey, Cetina!" Kal winced at Verona's shout. "Sorry Kal. Didn't mean to shout right next to those sensitive ears of yours." Kal grumbled as she wiggled a finger in her ear. "Cetina. Over here."

Cetina's head twitched towards them. It took a moment before she realized who she was looking at. Her face softened as she approached.

"Hello, Verona, Kal. What are you doing in the shade?"

"We don't want to be in the sun." Verona chuckled.

"At least you don't," Kal smirked at her. "Your skin starts to turn red if you do."

"It does and it annoys the crap out of me. Cetina, have a seat. You don't need to be standing all the time."

"Okay..." Cetina glanced about before deciding to sit next to Kal, perhaps to keep a living barrier between them.

"Did your walk clear your head a little?" Kal asked.

Cetina hesitated to answer. "Honestly, I don't think it did. Didn't make it any worse so that's a good start."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it." Verona released Kal's tail and leant back again. "I'm sure Anton would say that's a good thing. Not really sure how though..."

Cetina cocked her head. "What is he doing?"

Anton shouted something as a lightning bomb exploded. Thankfully it was small and didn't appear to cause any damage. However, the person at the source of the explosion, a middle-aged woman, shied away from Anton's angry stare.

"Maybe he might not be the best teacher," Verona said softly to Kal.

"He taught me well." Kal glanced down at Verona. "We sort of learned about our magic together. I think he's just angry she could have hurt herself. And that he’ll have to heal her."

"How much can that power heal?" Cetina asked. "I know you can't heal my eye, thanks to that Demon, but could limbs come back?"
"Absolutely. Part of my ear was torn off when I was very young. Anton used Tethra's power and grew it back. He also healed my broken bones."

"Among other things," Verona said snidely. She hadn't forgotten how Kal had mysteriously grown her bust after being fully healed, restored to the ways she should have been.

Kal playfully elbowed Verona. "True. I know it took a lot of mana, nearly knocked Anton out, but my ear is back. And that was before we knew that if the prayer is spoken aloud it reduces how much mana is needed. So a limb wouldn't be too difficult to grow back. Maybe over a few days…"

"But you can't bring back someone if they're dead?" Cetina's voice was hollow and soft.

Verona scrunched up her face hidden from Cetina's sight by Kal's body. She had asked a few times after they had met Ferula, and every time Anton had explained that it simply wasn't possible.

"I'm afraid not." Kal's ears drooped slightly. "While I haven't tried it myself Anton has told me that it doesn't work. Once life has left a body it's impossible to get back."

And necromancy, summoning magical skeletons, isn't really what you want.

Cetina nodded and watched the training in silence. Despite some time passing Cetina still appeared to be troubled by something. Since Anton looked to be busy for some time Verona decided to break the silence.

"Is there something else that's bothering you?"

Cetina bobbed her head slowly. "K-Kind of. Now that I've got time to really think, now that I'm in here and everything’s stopped for a while, I'm really worried about my old home."

"What Adara said about Bebbezzar?" Kal asked.

"Yeah." Cetina stretched out her legs. "Thessos...Thessos was my home for most of my life. And while I had to leave there...I still had a few friends before I left. And, if that Seocurian woman really spoke the truth, they could all be in danger."

"It sounded like a mess." Verona sighed. "Kings killed, Royals assassinated, merchants carving out territory and Communist bandit uprisings in the east. Do either of you know what a Communist is? Anton called those bandits that but I don't know what that means."

Kal and Cetina shook their heads.

Huh. Must be another thing from Anton's Earth, or whatever it's called. A strange name...Anyway, I'm sure there's a good story behind it. I do love hearing about that strange place.

"Well, don't tell anyone this." Verona began. "But we might have to be leaving Atros in the next few days."

"Already?" Cetina looked shocked. "But you've only just returned."

Verona nodded. "Yep. And we need to keep expanding Atros. And quickly. So we need to get to Seocuria and keep freeing Beastkin. More people makes a stronger city."

"Right." Cetina looked at the ongoing training. "That, that makes sense."

"If...” Verona rapped her fingers on her leg. “If we were heading through Qaiviel and Bebbezzar to reach Seocuria would you be willing to come along?" Cetina turned to look her in the eye. "I checked that map and Thessos would be along the quickest route to Seocuria. I'm sure Anton wouldn't mind making a little detour there."

"I...I need to think about it." Cetina brought her knees underneath her chin. "While I have a lot of good memories about that place there are more terrible ones. Terrible memories."

"Well...Give it some thought. It won't be for a few days at least so there's no great rush."

"I'll give it some serious thought." Cetina rubbed her chin and watched the magic training.

Anton had recovered from the small explosion and was directing the new Glyph users how to move their magic. They still only had one sphere but they no longer flickered or appeared to be on the verge of exploding.

"How great it would be to be able to use magic," Cetina mumbled. "Ferula said I can't though. Oh well. Guess I’ll only be over good with a sword and shield.”

“You’re very good at it too,” Kal said. “Far better than anyone else here.”

"Cetina?" Verona peered around Kal's back to see the Bebbezarian looking back. "If you're going to come with us back to Seocuria...How do you feel about being Anton's bodyguard?"

Cetina choked on her breath, Kal turned to look at Verona with a flat expression.

Why dance around the issue and not just say it?

"Me?" Cetina covered her mouth with her arm. She coughed and took a moment to steady herself. "But he already has both of you?"

"Two of us." Verona patted Kal's thigh. "Isn't going to be enough from now on. We need every set of eyes, ears and hands we can if we're going to get through whatever the future throws at us in one piece. A strong soldier with a sword and a big shield will make some little bandits think twice about attacking us. And I know that we can trust you. So, what do you think?"

"I would need to hear it from Anton," Cetina replied. "I...Don't have a problem with it but I don't want to just assume such a position without asking first."

"So you'll do it if Anton says yes?"

"I...." Cetina stretched her legs out. "I did like travelling with you three. Does that mean that I have to give up training?"

"Um. I'm not sure." Verona leaned forward and looked at Kal.

Kal raised an aqua brow. "Possibly. If you are in Qaiviel or Bebbezzar with us you certainly can't be here training. But that doesn't mean you can't when you are back."

"I'll think about it. Sounds like it could be good for me." Cetina lips turned up into a smirk. “Keep moving.”

Verona gave Kal a wink. Kal sighed and shook her head. She wasn't stupid, not by any means and easily understood what Verona was up to. The question was did Cetina think and how would Anton react to everything.

All at once the lightning and fireballs faded out of existence. Anton started clapping and congratulating the six for their skill and determination. While Shawn and Jocelyn looked fine the other four were exhausted, their shoulders drooped and their breathing was more ragged.

"Oh. We forgot to get the Karak fruit." Verona grumbled. Kal clicked her tongue and looked back to the gate.

"What fruit?" Cetina asked.

"Karak fruit. They're these pink juicy fruit that acts like one of those mana vials those mages in Graterious gave us. But these are just a fruit and not some weird ghastly drink."

"But we only have one tree." Kal continued. "If we don't have any of those fruit we have to wait for our mana to come back. I don’t think that Sybil’s had much luck planting more of the trees, we didn’t ask her before…"

"If it weren't for that tree Atros wouldn't be here. Anton wouldn't have had the strength to wipe out the Goblins and I wouldn't have been able to kill their commander."

"I guess I owe that tree as well," Kal smirked lightly.

"I'll have to see this tree then."

Anton slowly approached, constantly ensuring the six kept moving. When they were closer Verona almost felt sorry for the new four. They looked even more tired than she first thought.

"Again, excellent work everyone," Anton said loudly. "All of you understand the most basic ways to control your magic. And extremely quickly too. I ask that each of you do not practice on your own and especially in your home. Lightning magic is more than capable of starting a fire. And I shouldn't have to explain about the fire."

The four new Glyph users groaned lightly as they nodded.

"Now you four have the rest of the day off. It's not a good idea to be working when you have low mana, as you can tell it takes a serious toll on your body. I also want you to get used to that feeling, in case it ever happens in battle. Right now you have very little skill or control over your mana usage, which is fine by the way, and it'll only get better with practice. So go get something to drink and eat and have a lie-down. You all did very well today."

They gave a tired but happy smile as they trudged back into Atros. Shawn and Jocelyn remained at his side.

"As for you two, I don't know if you want to return to the Smithy right away because I really don't have much more I can teach you. I only know one other way to use the fire and lightning magic and they're not something that can be practised anywhere near Atros."

"That's alright." Shawn face beamed with a smile. "What are you going to do now?"

"Right now I need to stop procrastinating," Anton looked at Cetina. "And actually fulfil a promise I made to give you back your sight."

"Can we help with that?" Shawn asked. Jocelyn approached Cetina, who frowned and backed away slightly as she moved closer to look at her eyepatch.

"Not, not really." Anton ruffled his hair. "This is something that only Kal and I can do. If we can figure out something that will actually work."

"You two can come here and play with Luna." Verona patted next to the grass. "Luna's just itching to get a scratch and she'll just distract them as they try to work, I just know it."

Luna, who had been dozing lightly to Verona's side, rose up at the mere mention of her name. She yawned and began trotting towards Anton. Verona grabbed her and pulled her back, earning a deer’s look of derision.

"See?"

"And she had been so well behaved up until now," Anton said.

"Because you lot were letting off lighting bombs." Verona scratched behind Luna's ears. "And she really doesn't like loud noises."

"True." Anton looked down at Jonathan's children. "Since you two are free you can play with Luna. Just be gentle with her and make sure she doesn't run up to us. We're going to be experimenting with magic and the fewer chances of us being attacked by her the better."

Shawn and Jocelyn nodded and walked towards Verona. Luna, upon seeing them approach, burst into life. The twins took the squirming white blob and moved several feet away. Luna looked a little concerned but relaxed when she realised she wasn't being taken away, doubly so once the petting started. With Luna dealt with Anton turned his attention to Cetina.

"I've been having a few thoughts about this, while I was teaching them just before, and-"

"Hold on." Verona threw her hand up. "There's something I'd like to say first."

"Okay. Although I don't think your blood power will be of much use here."

Verona laughed. "I had thought about that but I can only control blood once it leaves a wound. And I don't think Cetina wants me cutting around her eye."

"Not really."

"Not to mention the Gliyrhil would stop me from controlling it anyway." Verona clapped her hands and motioned for Anton to sit. "But that's not what I was talking about. While you were training the new people we discussed something with Cetina." Kal glanced at Verona. "Something we had discussed when we first arrived back in Atros."

"There were quite a few things that were going through my mind then." Anton sat in front of Kal, the closest he could be to all of them, and rubbed his knees. "I'm afraid you'll have to remind me."

"There were more important things going on then." Verona stopped as she saw a small group of Beastkin and Seocurians being led by some Atros guards through the training fields. They looked far more confident and relaxed than before. However, she saw the face of one of the Beastkin when they looked at Kal.

Disgust.

Hate.

Verona could see it in their eyes, plain as day.

They hate someone like Kal, who's married to their ‘saviour’ and helped to free them, but humans and even Seocurians are fine? This is ridiculous. And I'm sure that Rasha gets the same treatment, Oni and Minotaur, her being a bully when she was younger probably has little to do with why some Beastkin won't talk to her now. And Irso? Probably not, since she would kill anyone who got too close. Even Ulyaa probably gets some...

Anton frowned as Verona stared at the new group in silence. When he turned, and the Beast-kin saw him looking, the look faded away. Verona grumbled and held Kal's hand. She may have seen it.

"As I was saying." Verona waited until Anton turned back. He probably didn't see the look but he wasn't unobservant enough to not realize what was happening. The small flicker of annoyance was proof of that. "But we were talking about you having an actual bodyguard, beyond us."

"Ah." Anton nodded. "I remember now." He turned to Cetina. "And I presume they were speaking with you about that just now?"

"I...Yes." Cetina flexed her hands before scrunching them tight. "Verona and Kal just spoke to me about that."

"So, what do you think?" Anton rubbed his beard.

While Verona did like the beard she preferred it smooth. The smooth face didn't tickle when they kissed. Anton hadn’t let them get close to his throat with a blade since they returned from Qaiviel with Kal hanging off his other arm.

"Would I even be suitable for such a position?" Cetina asked softly.

You were a lot more confident just before.

"If I had to choose someone my first choice would be you." Anton continued. Cetina forced herself to remain steady and calm. "You are an incredibly strong and reliable person. And you were a great help to us and always a good travelling companion. Without you, we probably would have had a very rough time in Seocuria."

Cetina laughed. "T-Thanks. I liked travelling as well, not so much the lack of food right at the end. I suppose I could give it a try." Cetina scratched her cheek. "I don't have any training in being a bodyguard but if someone tries to attack you...us, I mean, I could cut them down. I suppose that’s the most important thing."

"Excellent." Anton smiled. "I know you're going to do great."

That was easy, wasn't it? No umming or erring once Anton asks you.

Verona gave Kal another nudge. Kal turned to her and rolled her eyes dramatically.

"But." Anton continued. "If you are going to be a bodyguard you'll need both of your eyes, not just one."

"Right. I'll be happy to be able to grab things properly." Cetina hanged her head low. "Like a fork. Or a spoon."

"Unfortunately I don't think there's a way to heal your eye directly. But, if I have Kal help me, I think we might be able to use your eyepatch as a substitute. You will be able to see properly today, I know it."

Cetina's fingers flinched. She didn't want anyone seeing her wound, not that Verona blamed her. Looking at the burnt skin and whitened eye was difficult at the best of times. Doubly so when one realised that most of her eyelid was gone. It was quite a serious wound. Cetina grumbled something as she unfastened the band around her head. As it came loose she raised a hand and covered her damaged eye.

"Thanks, Cetina." Anton gently took the eyepatch. "Kal? Could you please sit next to me? I need to discuss with you how we can put a prayer on this that actually works."

Kal rose up, taking great care to let her tail slide free of Verona's grasp, and sat next to Anton. Immediately they began speaking in hushed whispers as Anton pointed to various parts of the eyepatch. Kal lent in close and offered her opinion, her hand resting on his knee, before waiting for Anton's response.

Cetina remained in a hunched position, her elbow resting on her knee while her hand covered her eye. She sighed as she began idly scratching at her burnt skin.

"Does it itch often?" Verona asked as she shuffled on the grass towards Cetina. "The skin around your eye?"

"Sometimes." Cetina stopped scratching but kept her eye covered. "More often than not, actually."

"Does it get dry or something?" Verona peered closer. "It's still kind of a wound and if it gets infected..."

"I've been keeping..." Cetina chuckled. "I almost said an eye on it. It's nothing like that, it just gets itchy with that eyepatch covering it all the time. Most mornings I have to brush away quite a bit of dead skin."

Verona stuck out her tongue. "Yuck. When we're done ask Anton for some ointment." Anton looked up at hearing his name. Verona found it cute that it was almost identical to Luna. When he realised that it didn't directly involve him he turned his attention back to the eyepatch and Kal. "I'm sure that there's something that Anton knows form Eart..." Verona coughed. "I'm sure he knows something that can help. Beyond splashing your face with water."

Cetina nodded.

If that was Kal she would have immediately known something was wrong. She knew that Anton didn't come from this world with just a few words and that he didn't hate her on sight. Neither did I...So it must have just been his words. What a clever little cat. And a squishy one at that.

Verona pushed the memories of their exhausting but exhilarating nights to one side.

"Cetina? When you..." Verona grunted as she crossed her legs. "What's it like for you when you fight?"

Cetina tilted her head. "What...Do you mean?"

"When you fight, I'm remembering the fight with the Demon."

"I'd rather not," Cetina said glibly.

Verona poked her side. Cetina turned and glared at her but the sense of despair had left her.

It felt like it was just pure muscle underneath those clothes. My finger didn't go in at all.

"But." Verona raised her finger. "When you fought that you kinda’ went into this trance. Anton asked if we had seen it, but you just seem to calm down and fight...I don't know how to describe it. Just really, really good." Verona sniggered. "No wonder Anton wants you as a bodyguard."

Cetina smiled faintly. "I hope there's more to it than that. But when I'm in a big fight, like it was back then, I...It feels like I'm not the one doing it. Like I've been...Pulled back. And I'm just watching myself fight. A performer on a stage and I'm in the audience." Cetina shrugged. "That's how it feels to me. I don’t know how to describe it really."

"That sounds pretty useful. You won't get lost in the thrill of the fight."

Not even when you were mashing Sancha's head into the ground. Or ripping it off her corpse.

Verona was even more curious to see how strong she was.

"Do you do that?” Cetina asked. “Get lost in the fight?"

Verona hesitated to answer. "Some-Sometimes I feel like I can." She pulled down her collar to shower Cetina the red marks covering her neck. Cetina's eye widened as she followed the mark.

"It goes..."

"Yep. It covers most of my head too." Verona released her collar and parted her silver hair. Cetina gasped lightly as she saw how far it covered. "The only thing that doesn't have any of that is my face."

"Wait. Even your-"

"If you can name a part of me then it has it." Cetina looked at Verona's chest. "Yes. Even them."

"But, what is it?"

"It's the mark, a Glyph as Anton calls it, of the Old Gods. Kal has one on her back, nowhere near as big as mine. Shawn and Jocelyn have one and I'm sure the new people have one as well." Verona sighed. "And unlike theirs my God, or Goddess, Demi-God, whatever she wants to be called, is a real bitch."

"You can talk about your god like that? That would never happen in..." Cetina pulled a face.

"I didn't exactly choose her." Verona continued. "And she made sure that I remembered taking power from her or some bullshit. She...She messed with my head."

Verona brought her knees underneath her chin. "It was during a fight when Anton and Kal were away. All these Kobolds attacked us and I...Did everything that I could so we would survive. But during that fight." Verona shook a hand. "Jira did something and I began to enjoy the carnage. A lot. At least I hope it was here. I mean, if you ask Jeff or Sam, anyone that was there, they'll tell you that I was laughing like a maniac as I tore the Kobolds apart. I...Kind of envy your calm when you fight."

"But you're better now, right?" Cetina frowned as she looked down at Verona. "Whenever I've seen you fight you haven't been like that."

"Oh, I've gotten a lot better since then. But...I still feel that pull when I'm using my magic." Verona flashed her power just enough so her eyes turned red. "Even then I felt it, a tiny pull. I just hope I never let blood touch my lips when I'm using that."

"Something bad happens?"

"Yeah." Verona chuckled nervously. "You could say that. And I don't have that under control."

Cetina looked at her in silence for some time before looking back to Anton and Kal.

I mean what am I supposed to say? That a single drop of blood made me orgasm so hard that I wet myself and could barely stand?

Verona forced her mind onto the different line of thought.

"I am a little worried that I'll be distracted by it and then I could be dead." Verona sighed. "And there's no coming back from that."

"But...It doesn't feel weird to use it normally?" Cetina asked.

"It's a bit hard to explain. Like another limb, I suppose. Just another part of my body. It would be like Kal trying to explain how her tail felt to move. You just can't unless you've got it."

"We have something," Anton said loudly. "Just in case you two thought we weren't doing anything."

"And it should still work even when you wear it," Kal added. "The Ghlyirl in your eye and skin shouldn't be a problem with this magic."

"Still much more useful than mine," Verona grumbled softly.

"Perhaps," Anton replied. "But you don't have to use almost a quarter of your mana just to do this."

"How much? A quarter?" Verona pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes tight. "Why does Tethra use so much more than anyone else? It’s just so strange that it does…"

"Anton did it before I could." Kal looked at Verona. "He can't help himself sometimes."

Verona laughed as Anton tickled Kal's waist. It was the same spot Verona had attacked earlier and must still have been sensitive. Kal burst into laughter as she lightly tried to swat Anton away.

"So what did you two do?"

Kal finally became more serious and Anton relented. "We decided that we couldn't just cast a prayer over the whole eyepatch, since part of it touches your skin which still has Gliyrhil in it. Which might cause the magic to break."

Anton held up the eyepatch. The piece of leather on top of the base now glowed with a faint white light. "Kal seems to prepare for things that we didn't even know were coming. So we took this part of the eyepatch off and cast a prayer over that. Whoever wears this will be able to see as if the eyepatch was an actual eye."

"Is that what you said to Tethra?" Verona asked. "Usually they're a bit more like a prayer."

Anton smiled. "Yeah. But the one that I actually did for this was a little more..." He rolled his hand as he looked up. "Precise. And better worded, that's why it took so long. Tethra can handle some ambiguity in the words but that takes a lot more mana than if you just take a moment and get it right."

"Will I be able to see with this?" Cetina rose onto all fours and moved forward.

"I hope so." Anton held the eyepatch by the band as he passed it over. "If not we're going to have to rethink a few things."

Cetina snatched the eyepatch from his grasp. Anton didn't seem taken aback as Cetina sat down, took a deep breath and fastened the eyepatch. In the few moments her wound was uncovered Verona saw that it was worse than she first thought. Her eyelid was almost gone and couldn't cover all of her stark white eye when she blinked. However, the skin around it didn't appear to be infected. With the eyepatch securely fastened, the faint white glow did not abate or snuff out, Cetina scrunched her eye and took a final deep breath. If everything worked this would be the last time she grasped at air or failed to find the edge of a table.

"Here goes nothing." Cetina opened her eye.

For a moment she said nothing, barely even moved. Slowly tears started to pour out of her eyes and down her face. A shaky hand waved in front of the glowing eyepatch. She laughed as moved it back and forth.

"By...It works." Cetina choked up as she held back even more tears. "I thought I would be half blind forever."

"You're still doubting us?" Anton chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that it works. How...hold up!"

Cetina lunged at Anton. For a moment he and Kal, and Verona thought she was about to head-butt him in the stomach. She stopped barely a foot away, a few dry strands of grass thrown into the air, and vigorously shook his hand, all the while tears ran down her face.

"Thank you, Anton. I can't believe I can actually see again!"

"I...It was our pleasure, Cetina. But don't forget to thank Kal. It was her idea."

"R-Right." Cetina shuffled and shook the hand of a nervous and perhaps slightly terrified Kal. She took Kal's hand without hesitation, even though she wasn't wearing gloves and her Beastkin hands were exposed. “Thank you, Kal.”

“I’m just glad that you can see again.” Kal smiled warmly. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to only have one eye. Perhaps it would be the same if I lost my tail…”

Cetina shook Kal’s hand again before moving back to Anton. “I can see again…Thank you.” Cetina turned to Verona and held her hand as well.

“I didn’t really do anything.” Verona chuckled, though not resisting the strong but warm hold.

“Doesn’t matter.” Cetina smiled. “You all helped me…You keep helping me too.”

“So what do you actually see?” Anton asked as Kal laid her tail on his lap. “Compared to what you used to?”

“Um…” Cetina sat down at her original position. “Kind of the same, I guess. But everything seems much…clearer now. Everything I see through the eyepatch is perfectly clear. It’s actually really strange.” Cetina brought her hand close to her eyepatch. “I mean, it goes away when I blink, thanks for that by the way, but I can see everything in perfect detail.” She dropped her hand and looked up. “Did you make the prayer do that?”

“Not…Not really.” Anton scratched his head. “I just asked it to give you…Oh. I asked it to give you perfect sight again. I think Tethra, since she helps fill in the gaps sometimes, made it that way. Is that a problem?”

“No.” Cetina laughed as she waved her hands. “Absolutely not. This is…Incredible.”

She continued looking at her hands, smiling and chuckling as she moved them back and forth. She was utterly delighted to able to tell how far away they were. Verona had no idea how it must have been like for her to live like that.

“Isn’t that glowing bit going to be obvious?” Verona asked. “If I saw that I’d immediately think that’s something’s up.”

Anton nodded as he looked at Cetina’s faintly glowing eyepatch. “Yes…I think that I just wanted to see whether or not it would work and I really wasn’t concerned about it. The other times we’ve enchanted things before they haven’t glowed…But you’re right. It is a little conspicuous and it doesn’t fade when she blinks either. And I have no idea if someone’s going to recognise it as normal magic or ours. Cetina? Could I have the eyepatch back for a moment?”

“Why? It’s fine.”

“I just want to make a few small adjustments.”

“Okay…” Cetina appeared loathed to separate herself from the eyepatch but she eventually relented. This time she did not cover her wound.

Anton mumbled something and the light faded from the eyepatch. Verona saw Cetina’s breathing sharpen and her heart race. If everything had just been a tease, a tease at having her proper sight back, she would never forgive him.

“Okay. Try this.”

Cetina took the eyepatch back. When she opened her eye she sighed loudly in relief. “It’s still there. Oh, that was scary. When I saw that light go out I thought that you had broken it.”

“Actually I had to completely redo the prayer,” Anton admitted. “So it’s the exact same but I asked for it not to glow. It used a tiny bit more mana but now I know that it’s good.”

“So how much do you have now?” Verona asked.

“A little over two thirds I think.”

“It just uses so much mana,” Verona grumbled. “I still don’t understand why…”

“Me neither.” Anton looked at Kal. “But it seems that it’s different for each person. Kal can do a lot more than I can with it and yet I can make those giant pillars of fire.” He shrugged as Kal’s tail swished happily. “I really don’t understand it either.”

Cetina, during their conversation, had been looking around with a smile on her face. Something that Verona didn’t see much from the Bebbezzarian. She quickly realised that everyone was looking at her and she calmed herself down.

“Almost an entire season I’ve been stuck like this.” Cetina laughed. “And with a few words, it’s back to normal. I think I’m going to need to do a lot of training myself. Just so I know how to fight properly. I’ve kind of gotten used to only having one eye.”

“I know,” Anton smirked. Cetina cocked her head. “I saw you practice a few times. You were bobbing your head from side to side like a chicken.”

Cetina flushed and forced a grin, even as Kal started chuckling at her embarrassment.

“Yeah…Yeah.” Cetina laughed. “But it was the only way I could make it work.

"However, if I'm going to take this bodyguard thing seriously-"

Oh, I bet you will.

"I need to know a few things."

"Such as?" Anton asked.

"I know that you, Anton, have really powerful magic that can hit anyone at range. Kal has her bow-"

"And daggers." Verona chimed in. "And she's pretty deadly with them too."

Cetina looked at Kal who smiled back. During their travels, Kal hadn't used her blades to kill, only to skin and gut dinner. The ornamental blade she had taken from Zig was all the proof Verona needed to understand her skill with a blade.

"Okay. And Verona has her blood magic and her spear."

"Not that I'm very good with my spear." Verona mused. "I don't really use it, I haven't used it at all since I got my powers. Most of the time I just carry it with me. And..." Verona leant back, her hands gripped into the grass. "It's been a great target for thieves. I know there were always eyes on it when I had to take that cloth off it. Even during the whole thing with Fort Acidava, I didn't really use it once. Not against the goblins or against those Demons."

Anton pursed his lips. "I...I can see...Are you thinking of changing your weapon?"

Verona shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. But I don't really use it. And it just seems a bit…much."

"The tip looks like it's one giant ruby." Kal picked at her claws. "Even I thought of stealing it once."

"What?" Cetina cocked her head. "What do you mean steal?"

"Don't worry about it." Kal chuckled nervously as she scratched the back of her hands. Verona had been a little surprised when Anton told her that Kal had stolen gems worth dozens of gold coins. She hadn't done it since but it probably still weighed on her mind.

"I usually just use this little blade." Verona continued. "Once I've got some blood I can always get more."

"Cetina?" Anton shuffled on the ground. "Since you suggested a Halberd for Rasha do you have any idea what weapon Verona should use?"

Cetina turned to Verona, her eye looking over her body. "I don't know."

"That thing can't see through clothes, can it?"

Cetina's eye flickered to Verona's chest. Verona caught it as she tried to pretend she didn't. "No! No, it can't. At least, I don't think it can."

Cetina turned to Anton.

"I didn't ask Tethra to do that but I'm sure I could-Ow!" Kal dug her clawed fingers deep into his side. "I was joking Kal."

Kal slowly relinquished her hold. "I haven't forgotten about before...And there's no way that I would allow you to make something that could let someone see my mother naked."

Cetina held her chin as she looked at the ground. "Since that blood power of yours works at close range and you can use it very well-"

Now you're just flattering me. But I think I was pretty smart when I sent the blood through the ground to stab Eluria in the foot. I know I got many 'pats' for that.

"So there's shouldn't be much that can get close to you. I think you would want something easy to use and that'll keep you safe. Something like an estoc. Or maybe a falchion. Something that's fast and will likely leave wounds on the enemy. Which you can use then as your blood, if what Anton's said about your power is true."

"I..." Verona felt very awkward as she smiled at Cetina. "I don't know what those things are."

Now there are two people that use strange and fancy words. At least Kal is with me.

One quick glance dispelled that hope. Kal knew what they were, probably something she learned in the twenty winters she spent wandering through Graterious and Seocuria alone.

"If what I know is correct," Anton began. "An estoc is essentially a thin short sword with a very sharp tip, good for thrusting and perhaps for swiping attacks. Is that right?"

Kal and Cetina nodded in unison.

That Earth of yours taught you a lot. But how do you know what those are when you remember so little about your past?

"And a falchion is a light sword that's good for slashing." Cetina nodded. "It'll be light enough for you to use and if it makes just a single cut..."

"That could work," Verona said. "I would have my hands free if I had one of those on my hip, kind of like how everyone else doesn't haven't to worry about that."

Anton smiled as he looked between Verona and Cetina. "People might underestimate you if you have that instead of a large and expensive looking spear."

"And someone who underestimates their opponent can end up dead, no matter how good they are." Kal flexed her clawed hands. "Some of the hunters that chased me did. I'm here. And they aren't."

"Same goes for you Cetina." Anton continued. "Not only are you stronger than you look but they're going to think that you can't see that well. When they try to attack you from that side they're going to be in for a rude shock."

"That they will." Verona nodded.

"But in order to use a new weapon, Verona's going to need training. A fair amount of training. And, if I'm being honest with myself and my new position, you all need some training too."

"Why?" Anton asked.

"Because I saw that you handling those steel maces that we found in that town near Dragon Tooth Bay."

"They were pretty heavy," Anton replied. "But none of us were struggling to carry them. We took them one at a time so we didn’t fall down those rickety burnt stairs."

"True. But I don't think you could have used one for long."

"Could you?"

Cetina nodded.

Anton laughed. "Well, it seems my new bodyguard is a bit of an upstart." Cetina instantly realised she may have gone too far. The excitement of being able to see properly again had muddled her mind and had overextended her authority and position. Before she could speak Anton continued. "Since the rest of the day is pretty open I think that we could get some actual strength training in. Riding through the countryside is a good start but we should do more. When we’re travelling we should probably do some training when we stop for the night."

Verona looked at her stomach, hidden by the black leather hide armour. She wasn't fat, at least there, and her stomach was toned enough to clearly see the muscles underneath. All things considered, she had a good build and body. However, if the opportunity arose to improve her physique, something that she knew would drive Anton wild, she would take it. Not to mention it would also increase her endurance...

Verona clapped her hands and stood up. "I'm up for it. A good run and some exercise will be good. So long as we get to use the bath when we're done."

"I was wondering about that," Cetina asked as they all rose up. "If you have somewhere to clean yourselves. So you have one here?"

"Of course." Verona sniffed at her clothes. "We girls can't stink all the time."

Kal sniffed at her clothes, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I think we're going to need a bit more than just a wash when we are done. We'll need to give these clothes a wash as well."

"Yeah. We don't have soap here...Oh?"

Verona followed Anton's sight to find a villager running towards them. He was quite well armed but didn't appear to be one of Jeff's men. The blue piece of cloth tied to his arm denoted him as one of Dennis's deputies. Part of the police force that Anton was building.

"Excuse me, Anton!" The man didn't stop running until he was a few feet away. A thin sheen of sweat covered his face while he took long deep breaths as his body stooped over slightly. He must have run nearly the entire width of the city. "We need your help. There's trouble with the Beastkin."

Verona saw Anton's blood run cold, Kal the same. After everything, they had been through to finally start rescuing and freeing them it made Verona's blood boil to hear something bad was happening. And so quickly too.

"What happened?" Anton was clearly forcing himself to be calm. "Is there a fight? Is someone hurt? Even after everything I said."

"No! No!" The man desperately tried to wave down Anton's concerns, and perhaps potential anger. "It's not that. No one is hurt or injured or anything like that."

"So what is the problem?" Kal asked.

"It's...difficult to explain. But I was told to come and find you right away. Since they were certain that you would know how to deal with this."

"At least it's happening now and not after we've gone." Anton rubbed his face. "Where is this happening?"

"On the eastern side of Atros."

"That's where everyone we know is," Verona said softly.

Kal looked at Anton as worry began to overwhelm her.

"We'll sort it out." Anton gently held her hand. "Cetina. It looks like everything's going to be put on hold for a while."

"I understand, Anton. Do you want me to come along?" Cetina pointed to her sword resting on the grass by her feet.

"Better had. Just in case more people are needed."

"If it gets really bad you can just shock them until the fall down," Verona suggested.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Kal winced. "It's barely been a single day and already something’s gone wrong..."

"We'll sort it out." Anton took a step before he turned to Shawn and Jocelyn. They still had Luna nestled safely between them. "You two. Could you take Luna back to the Smithy? I don't want her with us if things get serious."

"Okay," Shawn said. "We'll take care of her."

"Lead the way." Anton waved the man forward, setting a brisk pace. Cetina took her sword and quickly joined them.

It was too easy. Everything was going so well, we should have known something like this was going to happen. But what could we actually do to stop it? Or is this one of Anton's little plans? Instead of stopping it let it come out and smash the problem on the head?

Verona peered at Anton's face. She could not tell either way. With her hand resting on her blade, she ran with them to the south-east, hoping with all her heart that Atros was not already starting to unravel.

Chapter 113 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Clutching

Chapter 113 Pt.1:

Anton followed the Deputy through the streets of Atros. When he heard there were problems with the Beast-kin his mind began to swirl and vomit forth horrible images. Assaults, beatings, lynching. He knew his mind was creating the worst possible images possible so he tried his best to brush them aside, though it still made his skin cold.

Kal was even more worried than he was. After nearly two decades she saw the beginning of true freedom for the Beast-kin. And not even a day had passed and it was starting to fall apart. Verona and Cetina held themselves better but still were a little concerned. Perhaps Verona had unwavering faith in his ability to fix things no matter what? Anton hoped he could uphold that image, if that was true.

Small groups of Atros villagers, Seocurians and Beast-kin looked on as they passed. While they had started to cluster in their racial groups there didn’t appear to be much, if any, animosity between each other, and they hadn’t stopped when they saw Anton approach.

So what is actually happening over East then? These people seem fine…

The Deputy said nothing, only taking glances back to make sure they were following.

As they passed through the central plaza towards the East Anton saw the construction of Atros continuing on with an unshakable pace. Just like with the smithy the builders were working hard even though the Goblin threat had only been beaten back a few hours ago. Large wooden beams moved along the streets and the sounds of hammering wood filled the air. Atros only had simple iron nails, Anton didn’t think that screws would be something available for some time, and no drills so they had to be hammered in hard.

Focus. You can talk to Zac about it later.

They passed through the inner ring of Atros and into the second. After being led down a side street and into the next row of houses Anton saw a small group of Deputies, their blue armbands on proud display, standing around a group of nervous Beast-kin. Anton’s immediate thought was that they were trying to encircle them but they were instead trying their best to contain whatever was going on. There weren’t that many Beast-kin, perhaps fifteen or twenty, but whatever it was it was serious enough for someone to call for his aid. As he approached he recognised one of the Beast-kin. In fact, it was hard not to. Eight black legs attached to a spider’s body twitched on the ground as a dark brown skinned woman upper half bobbed to and fro.

“Ulyaa?” Anton said softly.

The Deputy signalled the others. Anton recognised one that turned around as Dennis. He was clearly exasperated by something serious and beyond his capacity to fix. Before he could say anything Marion peered from behind Dennis. Her tail, much shorter and less alluring than Kal’s beautiful limb, perked up at seeing them.

“Anton!” Marion gently pushed past Dennis before dragging him with her. Dennis looked a little surprised to be dragged by the Feline Beast-kin. Ulyaa, standing at the edge of the Beast-kin, turned and smiled but quickly returned her attention back to the group. She was trying to push through but was not having any luck.

“Marion. Dennis.” Anton began. “What’s happening? I was told to come here right away.”

“Oh…” Dennis looked at the Deputy, the man himself looked a little embarrassed. “It seems one of my men overheard me. I said I wished Anton was here, and that you’d be able to figure this out. So…”

“Sorry, Dennis.” The Deputy hung his head low.

“It’s alright.” Dennis patted his shoulder. “I think this will work out best. Go back to the others.”

The Deputy gave a curt nod and returned to the other deputies. Dennis took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair.

“It may be a little overreaction, considering what’s actually happening, but since you’re here…”

Kal held Anton’s shoulder as she stepped forward. “Mother. What is happening?”

“Something that I thought might happen.” Marion scratched her cheek. “It’s not the human's fault but…We’ve never been in a situation like this. And…There are a few things coming out and it’s all a bit…”

Anton along the narrow side streets. The whole area appeared reserved for the Beast-kin, it was probably a little much to ask them to sleep alongside the Seocurian refugees just yet, but there was something odd about them. They weren’t inside their homes, rather they stood in the streets looking very nervous and lost.

“What’s wrong with them?” Verona asked. “They look…”

“They’re utterly lost,” Anton replied. “Confused and scared. And it’s just starting to sink in that they aren’t slaves anymore. They’ve never been in a position where they have the day off. I suppose the forced march we put them through kept their minds focused on that task but now…Now they’re just spiralling out…”

“Yeah.” Dennis looked at the group of Beast-kin. “It’s not all of them. Marion here has been doing a great job getting them all to settle in and relax but there are a few still holdouts.”

“So those are fine?” Verona pointed to the worried groups of Beast-kin.

“They’re better than they were.” Marion sighed. “A lot better.”

“And you’re fine?” Anton asked.

“When…” Marion barred her teeth. “When I was pregnant with Kal, R...He, kept me away from the other Beast-kin. I don’t know why he wanted to keep me away from the others, probably because he knew what I was carrying, but I’m more used to sleeping and being on my own.”

Kal’s grip became unbelievably fierce at just the merest hint of a mention of her father. Anton knew their relationship was unbelievably terrible. He had ripped off Kal’s ear. And possibly worse.

“Is there anything we can do?” Anton asked.

Marion gently shook her head. “I honestly don’t think so. Some of these will just take time. But…” She looked to the group of Beast-kin that Ulyaa hovered about. “Some might need something a bit more direct. More personal.”

“And that’s why there are so many of your deputies here?”

“No.” Dennis nodded to the Beast-kin group. “We heard crying, it was pretty loud, and by the time we got here a lot of Beast-kin had gathered. Some already had weapons and we thought they were about to attack us but Marion and…The Minotaur?”

“Kristof,” Marion said softly.

Dennis nodded. “Kristof. Kristof and Marion were able to keep them under control. They seem more than a little afraid of the Minotaur, Kristof.”

“Have you seen the muscles of that man?” Anton asked, folding his arms. “He could snap our arms in a moment. My throat remembers that strength.”

Marion looked away, embarrassed, her tail drooping slightly as Dennis frowned in confusion.

“Perhaps I’ll tell everyone later-”

“Please don’t.” Marion awkwardly chuckled. “Please?”

“Okay. But where is he? He can’t be that hard to miss.”

“Right now he’s in the next street trying to keep everything calm. No one is going to mess with my Kristof.” Marion flicked her nose up as her tail swished through the air. Verona chuckled at the sight and Kal’s grip loosened.

“We’ll deal with this…” Anton peered around their shoulders. “So who even is crying?”

“Take a guess.” Marion smiled faintly.

“It’s not Irso, is it? I know I see Ulyaa there…”

“No. But getting close.” Marion turned to Dennis. “Since they’re here I want to go find Kristof and see if there’s anyone else that needs help.”

Dennis nodded as Marion gave them all a small wave before turning away. Just like her daughter, her tail lifted the back of her shirt ever so slightly. Unlike Kal, her dark aqua fur covered all over her body, or at least what little Anton could see. Thankfully Kal didn’t see him looking.

“Dennis. Could you please get everyone else moving and away from here? It’ll be much harder to deal with this when there’s over thirty people just standing about.”

Dennis waved to his deputies and repeated the order.

No one has said anything about me calling the Beast-kin, people. That’s a start. Words and names are important.

“So who even is it?” Cetina asked softly.

The deputies started to move the Beast-kin on. While most slowly and perhaps begrudgingly followed the instructions Ulyaa didn’t leave, she pranced nervously on the spot, as she turned to the front of the house and the source of the disturbance. Eider sat on the veranda of the house, Irso at her side. Eider held her head in her hands, her clawed scaled hands digging deep into her scale covered head. She wasn’t moving but Irso was trying her best to console her. The Drakeling appeared to have no idea what she was doing, an awkward hand gently rubbed Eider’s back as she looked on worried. Her tail, alongside Eider’s, lay flat on the ground. Ulyaa slowly approached and lowered her spider body until it almost touched the ground.

“Okay…” Verona looked at Anton.

“This…Dennis. Could you please make sure the other Beast-kin are alright? We’ll handle this from here.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

Dennis left the area with his deputies, leaving them alone. Anton took a deep breath as he approached. Ulyaa and Irso turned to him, Ulyaa gave a small wave while Irso barred some of her large teeth. Not in anger but in exasperation. Some of Irso’s expressions were open to misinterpretation.

“Anton.” Ulyaa gave a curt nod. “Kal, Verona, Cetina. I…” She sighed as she looked at Eider. “I don’t know what happened. We…”

“Just take a deep breath.” Anton looked at the unmoving Eider. Now there was no one around he could hear faint sniffling and cries coming from Eider. Even though Anton knew that normally Eider could hear perfectly normally but now she was utterly unresponsive. “No one tried something with her, did they?”

“No. No.” Ulyaa shook her hands as she raised her body to normal height. “It happened after we came back from the…central plaza, or whatever it’s called. We came back here, I opened the door and went inside. Eider didn’t and when I looked back she was crying and…” Ulyaa gestured to Eider. Eider gripped so hard onto her hide that he could see the skin and flesh that lay underneath her scales. If she kept her hold up for much longer she would hurt herself.

“Eider?” Anton knelt in front of the Cobra Beast-kin. Thin tears dripped off her face and onto her scaled legs. Her toes gripped hard into the dirt. “Can you hear me?”

He waited a few moments before grumbling.

“Do you think we haven’t tried that?” Irso asked flatly, her normal growl far more diminished than normal. “If it was that easy then I wouldn’t be here.”

“Irso!” Ulyaa hissed at the Drakeling. Irso frowned at Ulyaa but didn’t apologise.

“Eider?” Kal knelt next to Anton. “It’s Kal. What’s wrong?”

Again no response, perhaps she moved slightly but it might have just been his imagination.

“So you were just about to enter your new house and then this?” Anton asked Ulyaa.

“Yes, Anton. We’d been shown the home but Eider…She didn’t want to go inside. She basically dragged me away to take a walk back to the Central Plaza thing. If…”

“Go on.”

“I…She kept asking questions even when I suggested that we head back here so we can settle in. It was like she didn’t want to come back here. I didn’t really think much of it at the time…”

“I thought you were the one that was more nervous before?” Verona approached Ulyaa from behind, inspecting her spider body closely. Ulyaa frowned and manoeuvred herself away from Verona’s gaze. Verona shrugged. “But I don’t remember Eider looking or sounding that, well, nervous.”

“That’s just how she is.” Ulyaa folded her arms underneath her chest. “I was a bit nervous but I didn’t think she was actually worried more than me...”

“She puts up a strong front but underneath she can be quite soft?” Anton asked.

“What are you trying to say?” Irso growled as her free hand flexed her claws.

“While she might appear happy and enthusiastic on the outside, comparatively, on the inside she could be very nervous, scared and frightened, again comparatively. What you know of her might just be a front that’s never come down before, at least you may have never seen it. Maybe.” Anton smiled bitterly at Ulyaa. “But if that is true then she kept it up because she didn’t want to worry her friends. You had more than enough to worry about in Seocuria.”

Neither Beast-kin said a word.

“I may have been a little harsh and hasty with my analysis.” Anton approached Eider. “But it’ll be easier once she starts speaking.”

Eider still breathed but her mouth was clamped shut tight. The muscles at the back of her jaw bulged underneath the effort she exerted.

She’s not listening, so it doesn’t matter what we say she's not going to move. That only leaves really one method. I might want to check my poison immunity for this one.

Anton chanted the poison immunity prayer aloud. It appeared to still be working but only confused everyone present. They didn’t say anything but looked to one another for an answer.

“Eider?” Anton poked her arm. “I need you to let go of your head before you rip it off.”

Again Eider didn’t move. Anton sighed as he reached for one of Eider’s hands. He caught Irso staring daggers at him. She held his stare for a moment before pursing her lips, somewhat difficult given the number and size of her teeth, and removed her hand.

“Come on.” Anton touched her cool scaled arm. “I want to know what’s happening. But in order to do that, I need you to come out of this tight little ball that you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Eider shook her head, her first sign of any recognition.

“So you can hear me. What happened?”

“I…” Eider let out a single croaky word before shaking her head.

“You can tell us but first you I need to let go.” Anton gently held her wrist and tried to pull. She budged a little but it wasn’t much. Her fingers dug into her skin even harder.

“Okay, Eider. Now I’m starting to get annoyed.” Anton held her other wrist. “And if you don’t at least talk to me I’m going to have to shock you so you’ll let go.”

“What?” Eider’s grip loosened slightly.

“I know how to make my lightning magic just weak enough so that it won’t kill someone but it’ll give them a really nasty jolt. And after that their body goes numb and limp. I don’t want to have to do it to you Eider but I will since I don’t have time for you to be sitting here like this forever. So, will you please let go, Eider?”

Eider’s breathing quickened before she gave a tiny nod. Anton didn’t relinquish his hold until she started to move. Her fingers had dug deep into her scales, they clicked and popped as her claws came free, and left many dimples and scratches on her otherwise smooth blue and purple scales. Slowly her hands fell into her lap. She kept her head down and refused to raise it. Her eyes, normally bright green like Kal’s, were puffy and red with thin lines of tears running down her face. Eider glanced up, caught his eye and looked away. Irso tried to hold her shoulder again but was brushed off by the sullen Cobra. Irso looked shocked, even after all the teasing she put them through she had probably never been rebuffed when she was trying to be helpful. She looked at Anton but he could give her no help.

“Don’t move,” Anton said softly as he reached out to her hand.

He chanted a healing prayer, the scratches and minor self-inflicted wounds disappeared and Eider’s breathing became calmer.

If I’d known this was going to happen I would have brought Luna. That little white bundle would be useful right now…

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay.” Anton began. “But I want to know what happened. All of your friends do too, they don’t want you to be a state like this.” Eider gave the tiniest of nods. “So what happened?”

Eider scrunched her eyes tight. “I…I couldn’t go inside.” She sounded like she was about to cry again. “I just…couldn’t.”

Anton didn’t speak, neither did anyone, and allowed her to continue uninterrupted.

“I was fine on the trip.” Eider wiped away a teardrop that ran down her face. “I was fine sleeping in the big building and out in the open. But when I saw Ulyaa actually going into…” Eider chocked up.

Anton looked at Ulyaa.

“I don’t know,” Ulyaa said softly. Kal stepped forward and held Eider’s knee. At least she wasn’t brushed off or pushed away. “I don’t have a problem with it...”

Eider shook her head. “Because you’re not a Cobra. You wouldn’t understand.”

Ulyaa was looking more heartbroken and upset by the moment. Verona gently held her shoulder, which seemed to help, leaving Cetina standing alone and looking very awkward.

“Cobras can’t have children with other Beast-kin.” Eider continued. “I don’t know why but…”

Perhaps messing with the Lamia’s to make the Cobra’s did something to their DNA? Now they’re too different a species to interbreed properly.

“We don’t give birth like the rest of you.” Eider looked up at Anton, her eyes freshly red and wet. “Even Arachnids and Drakelings have it just like you humans. We…lay eggs. Quite a few at a time.”

“And they kept track of when you were ready?” Anton asked gently.

Eider nodded. “They did.” She scratched the ridge of her nose, where the thin blue line of scales, speckled with red, stopped. “It seems that this turns completely red when I can…”

“Oh.” Anton looked at their small house. “And they would take you to a room like this when it was.”

Eider nodded, more tears running down her face. Anton sighed softly and gently held Eider’s hand. There was almost no strength returned.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know-”

“It’s not that.” Eider withdrew her hand, her claws dragged across his skin and left tiny white lines. “I never actually had one that was actually was…You know. But I still have to…pass my eggs. I guess it’s just like everyone else.”

“How often does that happen?”

“Um…Probably once a season? Maybe. I don’t keep track of things like that.”

“I-”

“That doesn’t bother me so much.” Eider continued. “I got used to it. But…What I can’t stop seeing and hearing when I look into that room is…”

She trailed off, fighting back another bout of crying as the tears flowed again. Kal rubbed her knee but it didn’t have any effect.

“Do you know how to write?” Anton asked. “Sometimes it can be easier to write it rather than say it.”

Eider shook her head. “I don’t know how to write. Or read.”

“Well, could you just whisper it to me?” Anton moved in close. “So you don’t have to say it loudly.”

Eider nodded. Irso and Kal backed away slightly.

“They smashed one of my eggs,” Eider whispered. “When they find out that an egg isn’t fertilised they just throw it away. I’ve never had one that was fertilised so they just throw them all out…And one time there was a baby in it.” Eider started crying again. “The only one that I’ve ever had and they just threw it out like it was trash, even laughing when they saw.” She looked up at him with tears streaming down her face, small rivulets of liquid trailing out of her nose. “I saw it…A little baby…My…”

Eider broke down and began crying again. Anton gently rubbed her shoulder, there wasn’t much else he could do right now. Kal stepped forward and held Eider’s hands. It helped and Eider slowly calmed down.

“How…How long ago was it?” Anton asked softly.

“Ugh.” Eider released a hand. “About ten, maybe eight winters ago.” Kal looked at Anton, frowning lightly but not asking. “I tried to forget about it…I almost had. But-”

“But then you saw the inside of the house and it all came back? Because that’s where…”

Eider nodded.

“What did?” Irso asked as she held her shoulder.

Eider patted Irso’s hand. She probably was never going to repeat what she just said to him.

“It’s okay Irso.” Eider smiled at Irso, though it was clearly quite forced. “I feel a bit better now.” Eider took a deep breath and scratched her leg. “Really, I do.”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that memory,” Anton said. “But, if you want, I’m sure that we can find you somewhere different to live if-”

Eider raised a hand and cut Anton off. “It’s okay. I just couldn’t stop seeing it.”

“Well…How are you now about going inside now?”

Eider turned back to their house. Her hood shrunk and her hands gripped tight. “I…” She slapped her face. “I think I’ll be okay. I need to be.”

Anton looked at Kal, she didn’t look convinced. “I would feel better if you actually went inside for me.”

Eider gulped and stood up, her legs and hands were shaking slightly. She took a deep breath and entered their house. Irso flashed Anton a look, one of worry and concern. Anton tried to wave down her concerns unsuccessfully.

“Is she going to be alright?” Kal asked.

“I don’t know.” Anton stopped as Irso approached him. “I honestly don’t know.”

“What did she tell you?” Irso asked, her usual grouchiness gone.

“I don’t think she’d want me to say.” Anton looked at Eider. She stood just inside the room and was slowly looking around. “It definitely sounded pretty personal.”

Irso grunted as she looked at Eider. She still looked a bit nervous but nowhere near as before.

“How are you feeling?” Anton asked as he approached the door. He didn’t go inside or block the way, just in case it caused another memory to surface, but peeked his head through.

Eider gave a small nod as she turned around. “Now that I’m actually in here it’s not that bad.” Her tail, short and fat compared to Kal’s and Irso’s long and thin, wasn’t swaying through the air but no longer tucked between her legs. She returned to the door, stopping a meter away. “It’s…It’s just a house. It’s not that place in Seocuria.”

“Are you going to be alright?” Anton asked.

“I think I will be.” Eider forced a smile. Slowly it became softer and more natural, especially after several more breaths. “It’s just a building. That’s all.”

“If you’ve ever got a problem just know that you can you can always talk to us.” Anton smiled. “Because you have a great circle of friends that aren’t going to let you down. I know that Irso and Ulyaa were extremely worried about you.”

Ulyaa slowly approached and pushed her way past Anton. She reached out and held Eider’s hands, the Cobra looked very embarrassed. “If you have something that’s worrying you, you can talk to me. We’ve always been friends. Right?”

“Sorry, Ulyaa.” Eider hugged Ulyaa tight. “My mind just got muddled up. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“I’ll stay with Eider for now.” Ulyaa turned her human body while her spider body remained stationary, something that mentally jarred with Anton. “I think we’ll just stay here until dinner…Maybe just outside in the fresh air.”

“Thanks, Ulyaa. I feel better with you here.” Eider chuckled, her tail swishing once through the air.

“If you are feeling better we should probably keep moving.” Anton patted the wooden door frame. “Make sure that the other Beast-kin are okay as well.”

Anton took a step away from the door before something cool and smooth grabbed his hand. Eider held his hand, though she herself looked surprised that her body had moved like that.

“Please.” She quickly relinquished her hold. “Don’t tell anyone what I said.” She stepped forward and held her hand close to her chest. “I haven’t told anyone else before. Ever.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Anton smiled as he patted her hands. “Ever. You have my word.”

Eider gave a small nod before turning back into the house and walking to the beds on the far side. One was normal while the other was two stuck together.

“I see that someone’s made arrangements for you, Ulyaa,” Anton said to the Arachnid.

Ulyaa softened, enjoying the change of topic. “Yes. That’s why I wasn’t so eager to come back. I don’t really want to have sleep against the wall.”

“What do you mean…” Verona poked her head around Anton’s shoulder. She looked at the two single beds pushed together against the wall. “Oh. Right. How do you normally sleep anyway? On your back, front or side?”

Eider laughed, seemingly an honest one. “Usually it’s on her front. And her legs just splayed out everywhere. Usually on top of one of us.”

“Eider,” Ulyaa grumbled as she rolled her eyes. “I have to sleep on my front otherwise I’ll pin my legs and then I won’t be able to feel them in the morning. If I did that, at least when I used to I got beaten until I could move.”

“I’m sure that made you work faster,” Anton said snidely.

Ulyaa chuckled. “That’s what they thought.”

“Right. Well, you three, if you need us our house is on the western side of Atros along the main street. Just look for the biggest building. We might not always be there though but if a guard doesn’t know where we are that’ll be your best bet.”

“Thank you, Anton.” Eider smiled faintly.

Anton gave a final wave before turning away. Ulyaa entered the house, the door was wide enough for her to enter without problems and began speaking with Eider. Anton had no idea what they were going to talk about but the two were obviously great friends and needed to talk some things through. He wondered if Eider was going to tell her what she had told him.

Since every one of Kal’s friends is essentially the same age as her I wonder if they have any children back in Seocuria.

When Anton reached the centre of the street Irso grumbled loudly.

“What a waste of help I was.” Irso cast her head down. “I couldn’t do anything for her. Even though I’m supposed to protect them.”

“You did the best you could,” Kal said. “I’m sure Eider would have been far worse off without you.”

Irso shrugged. “Perhaps. But I don’t like feeling so helpless.” She kicked at the dirt, sending dust everywhere. Anton noticed that her claws were sharp enough to kick up the dirt only where she had touched, leaving a clear gouge in the ground.

"Maybe," Irso grumbled again. She looked back to Eider and Ulyaa, still talking to one another, and sighed. "I don't really know anymore. I...Their parents asked me to look out for them since no one is going to mess with me. But now they're safe..." Irso shook her head again. "I don't know. I never had these feelings while we were still slaves. Being lost and confused."

"Isn't that kind of a good thing though?" Verona asked, deliberately keeping Anton between her and a set of razor-sharp claws. "Now you don't have to worry about being attacked."

"We'll see about that." Irso's tail flicked like a whip. "A bit early to say if it's going to work out."

"I know it will." Kal didn't hide behind Anton. Not completely at least.

"If you say so, Kal."

"Which house is yours?" Anton asked. Irso pointed to the house just beside Ulyaa's and Eider's. "Right. You told us that before. Well, if something goes wrong again you'll be right there to help."

"Unless it's someone trying to hurt them I don't think I'm going to do much good."

"So what now?" Verona asked. "Looks like things are going alright in there."

Irso frowned as she scratched the back of her head. "I don't have anything to do right now and standing around’s not doing me any good. I don't know if that was a good idea, Anton."

"Perhaps. I didn't want everyone to go to work straight away, thinking that it was going to be just like Seocuria. Now that I think about it the idea of a day off doesn't really apply to most people. Only the super-rich."

"They wouldn’t know what work is." Irso chuckled. "I've been thinking more about the Smithy you were talking about. Since we've still got quite a bit of the day left I wanted to check it out. See what it's like before tomorrow."

"We need to head that way to pick up Luna," Anton said. "I'll introduce you to Jonathan and the rest of the smiths. I...I was about to warn you that the place is exceptionally loud but I'm almost certain that you already know that."

Irso nodded. "Spent most of my life in one. Haven't lost my hearing yet."

I'm betting that after I healed you any sort of tinnitus disappeared.

"We just need to check with Marion and Dennis, see if there are any more Beastkin that are in trouble, beyond just needing time to adjust, then we'll head there."

"Thanks." Irso almost smiled but, at least for Anton, it showed off way too many teeth. He kept his surprise to a minimum and Irso didn't appear to realise.

Anton gave a final look at the Arachnid and Cobra. Both appeared very calm now, no hint that a few minutes ago one was clawing at their own head.

"Find us if you have any problems," Anton said loudly.

They didn't say anything back but both gave a serious nod. With everything thing done that they could do, that wouldn't come over as meddling or overbearing, they all gave a final wave and slowly moved along the narrow street.

"Irso?" Anton slowed as they walked between two houses. "Make sure that you keep an eye on them as much as you reasonably can. I don't think Eider is out of the woods just yet."

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," Irso spoke up from the rear. "But I would anyway."

"Good. This may come across as an odd question but have you had children before?"

Verona and Kal stumbled at his words, Cetina chocked on her breath and started coughing heavily. A few quick thumps to her chest and she was back to normal. At least physically.

"What are you asking?" Cetina said exasperatedly.

"Yeah..." Kal trailed off while Verona held back a smile.

"Four," Irso replied, her voice flat and uninterested. "It could be five. It's not something I kept track of."

"You don't even know how many times you've given birth?" Verona asked shocked.

Irso shrugged. "Wasn't my decision. It was the Drakeling elders in Danafra. They told me I needed to have children, to keep our species continuing. So..."

"I hope it was at least somewhat consensual?" Anton asked.

Irso shrugged again. "What I wanted wasn't even considered."

"So where are they now?" Kal asked. "Not the elders..."

"No idea. They were taken from me right after they were born. The first time I..." Irso flexed her clawed hands. "But after the second I gave up caring. They were going to take them no matter what."

"The Seocurian Masters are a sick bunch," Anton said softly as they passed a small group of slightly worried Beastkin.

"It's not them that do it," Irso grumbled. "They get other Beastkin to do it for them."

"So you'll hate them and not the masters?"

Irso nodded. "I still hate the Drakeling that took my first. Huh. Guess you're right."

"And once they're gone..."

"Never saw them again." Irso's tail and shoulders drooped. "They're taken to be raised in other slave houses across the empire. That way we can't raise real families so we aren't a real threat, at least that's what a guard told me."

Anton didn't want to ask how she came upon such information. "Makes sense. From their perspective at least. Divide and conquer. But...Kal's stayed with her mother."

"Kal was the exception. Her father made it so."

"What about the other people we know?" Anton wanted to keep the conversation moving. "Did they have to go through what you did?"

"Some. I know Eider hasn't had one fertilised egg-"

That's not strictly true.

"-and-"

"She lays eggs?" Verona chuckled. "Like a chicken?"

"No," Irso growled at Verona. She threw her hands up in surrender as she moved Anton in between them. "Anyway, Marion hasn't had one after Kal. And I know R...He tried. I don't think Rasha has, I'm sure I would have noticed that lumbering bundle of muscle being pregnant. And I'm pretty sure Ulyaa's had eight or ten."

"Hasn't she been...busy."

"Not one at a time," Irso explained. "Usually twins or triplets."

"Wow." Anton looked. "She doesn't look like she's had ten kids."

Irso shrugged and remained quiet.

"Doesn't seem like she's worried about her children either," Verona said softly.

"There's nothing we can do. Worrying about it will just drive you crazy. I'm pretty sure the Seocurians...the masters at least, wanted that."

As they passed another street they found Marion and two Minotaurs. Rasha, three meters tall with blue skin and long red hair, stood out like a sore thumb around the shorter and more muted coloured Beastkin. So too did Kristof, standing next to Marion, though for slightly different reasons. Some of Dennis's deputies were speaking with the small groups of Beastkin. Neither side appeared hostile to one another. Considering how the previous incident resolved itself it was quite a relief. Rasha was the first to spot them and alerted the other two.

Marion, upon seeing them return, smiled faintly when she realized Irso was with them. "Has everything's been sorted?"

"For now."

"Could you keep an eye on her, mother?" Kal asked. “We don't know if she's better yet."

"What even is going on?" Rasha asked. "I was called to help carry some stuff for some of the builders. Then when I came back there's all these people."

"It's fine." Verona chuckled. "There crisis has been stopped."

Rasha didn't look convinced but accepted the answer.

"If someone is asking for Rasha's help." Cetina began. "They can't hate the Beastkin that much. Surely, if they did, they wouldn't want something built by a Beastkin."

"I'm pretty sure most of Danafra was built by Beastkin slaves," Anton said softly. His words were backed by the Beastkin present, Cetina was more than a little embarrassed. "But you are right. If I hated Beastkin to the core I wouldn't have them touch anything."

"Thank the gods you don't," Kal spoke softly.

"Right..." Rasha looked along the groups of Beastkin. "And I still don't understand why you don't..."

"Hello, Anton." Kristof peeled away from the Beastkin and stood by Marion's side. When he stood alongside someone relatively normal, like Marion, it only accentuated his strength. Only Rasha could really compare. "I did my best when I heard E-"

Marion elbowed him in the side. While it clearly didn't hurt the Dwarf Minotaur it stopped him dead.

Marion raised a finger to his lips. "No names. I'm sure they don't want to be embarrassed anymore."

"It'll spread regardless," Irso grumbled. "Can't stop that."

"True. But the less that know the better."

"I am so confused," Rasha admitted. She folded her arms underneath her chest and looked at the ground, saying nothing. Anton could tell she was trying her best to understand but unless she was just told it would be difficult to guess.

Finally Rasha shrugged. “I’m sure that it’ll make sense eventually. I’m not that smart.”

Irso opened her mouth but clamped it shut.

“But I did my best to keep everyone calm when they…” Kristof stopped himself from saying a name. “They heard the noise. I think I did okay.”

“No one’s really going to mess with a guy that’s as wide as a house.” Anton chuckled.

Kristof and Marion laughed. “Yeah. The Seocurian guards didn’t mess with me either. Took about twenty of them to get me.”

“Have you two found any more Beast-kin that are struggling like…You know?” Anton trailed off.

“A few,” Marion admitted. “But we’ve been speaking with them. Some of the women needed a gentle hand while the men mostly needed a good thump from Kristof. That got them out of their mood.”

I don’t know if that’s the best way but if it works…

“I don’t exactly want to use violence-”

“It was just a little punch in the arm,” Kristof said. “I know that’s probably a bit stronger than a normal human’s or a Beast-kin’s but I didn’t hurt them.”

“Some people might just need that.” Anton mused. “Slap them, they’re hysterical. So long as it doesn’t become the norm. Marion, since you’re the Beast-kin representative, can I ask you to keep an eye on those you found?”

“Sure can.” Marion nodded. "I was just talking to Rasha and she said that you were asking if any Beastkin wanted to join you in attacking some goblins? Is that right?"

"Yes. I think it could be a great bonding moment and help to make everyone look past what they are on the outside. After fighting shoulder to shoulder it's a lot easier to see them as a friend. It worked for Kal and I know it’ll work again. Right now it's just Kal and Rasha that are coming. I'd like for some more to come. I was going to ask over dinner..."

"I'll go." A crackling voice spoke up. "If there's room for a Drakeling."

"You want to come?" Cetina asked.

Irso nodded. "If it'll help them I'll do it. I also need to know how to use a sword properly, I can't always rely on my claws."

"What a selfless individual you are." Anton smiled at the Drakeling.

Irso scowled and growled at Anton.

"So that makes three. Are either of you two interested?"

Marion and Kristof exchanged glances.

"I-"

"If you don't want to you don't have to. You probably won't be doing any real sort of fighting but it'll be a good experience to move in an armed group."

"What do you think?" Marion asked Kristof.

"I...I don't know. I don't have any real experience fighting as a soldier or a guard, just the scrapes we got into with each other and the Seocurian guards...Are you coming, Anton?" Anton gave a nod. "Then there probably isn't much to worry about."

Kal held Anton's hand, when he looked at her she shook her head. After everything they had been through Marion did not deserve to die on her second day in Atros from a rogue Goblin spear or rock. Marion saw her concern as well.

"Perhaps not this time." Marion squeezed Kristof's hand. "I mean, we aren't the youngest anymore."

Though Marion's actual build was hidden underneath a layer of aqua fur Anton knew she wasn't frail.

"I'll stay as well then." Kristof returned the hold. "But we will still be taught how to defend ourselves? Right?"

"Yes. That training should start tomorrow after lunch. I'm not sure how it's going to work out but we'll just have to wait and see."

Kal looked a little relieved that her mother wasn't going to be fighting.

"But if you do talk to anyone and they want to join tell them they have to be in the central plaza at dawn. It's going to be a bit of a trek."

"To be honest with you, Anton, I've had enough of walking." Marion chuckled. "I don't think any of us have had to walk so far in our lives."

"Hopefully not again. If everything thing’s settled here we need to keep moving."

"We'll finish things off here then," Marion said.

"I guess I'll go have a nap before dinner then." Rasha scratched the base of her horn. "Not much else to do."

"Please be gentle with Eider and Ulyaa," Kal said after Rasha had taken a step. "It's all a bit...fragile right now."

"Okay..." Rasha frowned but appeared to understand something had happened. "Okay. I'll be delicate then." Rasha raised her hands and looked at her body. "As delicately as my body will let me."

"If you're interested in some practice before we leave tomorrow morning you should head over to the training fields," Anton explained. "They're just through the northern gate of the central plaza. If you need to just ask a guard, they’ll direct you."

"I...I might just do that. Better than staring at the ceiling."

"That doesn't sound bad for us too." Kristof looked at Marion, one of her eyebrows raised. "Once we've talked to everyone here we should consider it. Just like Rasha said, better than just waiting for dinner." Kristof frowned. "Now that sounds like Seocuria."

"Yeah. Might be a good idea to work up an appetite before dinner."

Anton felt Verona wanted to make a snide comment. One quick glance confirmed his suspicion. Nevertheless, she held herself back.

"After we've dropped Irso off at the Smithy and picked up Luna-"

"Dropped off?" Irso asked. Kal gently waved down her question.

"We need to swing by Sam and check up on her baby."

"Oh." Verona pulled a face. "I'd almost forgotten about that. We definitely need to do that, after all the help she's been to me."

"Exactly. With everything that's happened, I'd almost overlooked it."

"Who's Sam?" Cetina leant forward.

"Jeff's wife," Verona replied. "He's the bald guy that you met just after we arrived. And she's pregnant, after a long time, so we just need to make sure that everything's okay. Well, those two are. I can't do much to help her."

"So we need to get going. If we don't see you before dinner we'll see you then."

Anton gave a final wave, one returned by all the Beastkin present, before they began moving back to the main street.

Chapter 113 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Clutching

Chapter 113 Pt.2:

Anton glanced back to Irso as she followed at the rear of their group. Despite being a Beast-kin in a human city she didn't shy away or cower as the humans looked at her, something that many of the others were still doing, though it was diminishing every moment. He didn't know if she just held herself in a high regard or held no fear. He reasoned it was most likely the second as she spent most of her time and energy trying to keep Eider and Ulyaa safe with little regard for her own safety. Also, her natural strength and clawed weapons were more than enough to reinforce that attitude. There was also her general appearance. Her clothes were ratty and raged compared to theirs, something that she and the other Beast-kin didn't appear to have a problem with. It was something that Anton wanted to deal with relatively quickly. The Beastkin girls, including Irso, has many holes in their clothes. It allowed tantalizing glimpses at the body beneath. While Anton was not so inclined it might be enough to make someone do something very stupid, and receive a clawed swipe in return.

Ulyaa said that she'd be willing to donate her silk to us. I can't really ask about that now though...

"How much further?" Irso asked.

Verona looked back. "We've barely even started walking." A faux exasperation filled her voice. "And you're already tired?"

"No," Irso grumbled. "But if this is the place that I'm going to work in I want to know how long it takes to get there."

"Fair enough." Verona chuckled and looked forward, avoiding the angry stare coming from behind.

Atros had been designed as a series of concentric rings with large stone walls separating them. With only a few gates through the walls, it limited the directions one could take. Thankfully the rings had been designed to allow a wide street to run along the middle. The street they currently were walking passed right by the smithy.

These streets...One day, when Atros is truly safe, where we don't have to worry about Goblins or Kobolds, when the people look past the differences of their flesh and when we have an actual economy, I wonder if these streets are going to turn into those of Porswea? Bustling with noise and activity. That would be something. Something I could say that I had a hand in making.

"It's not that far," Anton replied after spending some time lost in his thoughts. "Though...With everything surrounding it made from wood, we may need to move it or a fair few houses."

"Was that a problem in Seocuria?" Verona asked, leaning towards Irso. "Since you worked in one. I remember that it looked pretty dry there."

Irso glanced at Kal, a smirk grew on her face. "Sometimes. And not all of them by accident."

Verona laughed. "You guys aren't beaten down yet."

"If the masters get what they want they tend to not care what we do." Irso chuckled. "Even if it's keeping our pride together."

"That's something that I've been meaning to ask." Anton slowed down so Irso was closer. The Drakeling looked a little nervous as she glanced at Kal. "But the Seocurian Empire has had your kind in chains for many, many generations. Long enough to realise at least one breed is dangerous and make a new one. You haven't known anything else and yet you can still be so defiant. I mean Kal's spent the last twenty winters fending for herself but at least she wasn't being beaten. Even in the Auction House I saw a Beastkin lifting a purse from a buyer."

Irso laughed, the crackle in her voice was much louder than normal, happy almost. "That's fantastic. Some prissy rich noble just got robbed by a servant they barely even consider alive." Irso chuckled and calmed her demeanour. "The elders, if you can really call them that, are the ones that teach us. Tell us stories of the Old Gods and of a time when we were free. I think Kal must have been enamoured with some of those stories."

Kal smirked as her tail flicked through the air. Out of everyone in Atros she had the greatest faith in the Old Gods. They had brought her to Atros and, while it may come across as a little arrogant, to him. She had good reason to continue her faith. He hadn’t asked why Marion had faith in the Old Gods, or why any other Beast-kin knew about them. And doubly so why they kept their faith during their enslavement.

"Surely they would have faded with time." Anton continued. "Each generation would have lost pieces of information or considered them not important."

Irso smiled and puffed out her chest, one modest but only in comparison to those that surrounded him. "Nobody messes with the Drakelings. And we live to be very old, older than humans and other Beastkin. That's more than enough time to learn everything and pass it on to the next generation of Drakelings. Or any Beastkin that's willing to listen to a story."

"You must know a lot then." Cetina smiled, though it faded as Irso looked increasingly more awkward.

"I...I don't have that good of a memory. I can only remember a few of the things and they're the things that everyone already knows." Irso shrugged. "Guess that's why they wanted me to have children instead."

"Sounds like you weren't given much of a choice," Cetina said sadly.

Irso grunted. "Not really. But you don't always have a good choice. But I don't want to talk about that anymore. Something different...Okay, what sort of weapons will I have when we go and deal with these Goblins?"

"Cetina?" Anton asked. "What sort of weapons do you think would be best for Irso?"

Cetina looked Irso up and down, receiving a look of derision from the Drakeling. "I think something simple would be best. Perhaps a sword and shield? You used a mace before, right?"

Irso nodded. "To smash some Goblins heads in, yes. But all I did was just swing and miss most of them."

"You did well for your first time." Kal looked at Anton. "Even if someone put you into battle a little early."

"There's never a time when someone's ready to have their first battle," Anton said.

I'm lucky enough that I haven't had to fight in melee yet. Not against a horde of Goblins, Kobolds or angry humans. I'd probably freak out.

"And since you don't have the reach that someone like Rasha has I think a sword and shield would be best."

"What about my claws?" Irso brandished them into the air. The light glinted off the razor-sharp edges. "These can easily cut through skin and hide."

Cetina pulled a worried face. "You don't want to get too close to your opponent. And if you have to get right next to them to land an attack you're also in their range. It's just too risky."

"Better to lose a piece of metal than your hand," Anton added softly.

Irso grunted as she nodded. "Fair enough. I definitely want a shield too. A good one. Not something that's going to break after one hit."

"Some of the Goblins used wooden shields." Anton mused. Mount Aspire loomed in the distance. "Just that was enough to give us some serious problems." Anton glanced back. "We only had about twenty bows between us too."

"What about..." Verona glanced at Irso. "What about Eider and Ulyaa?" Irso glared at Verona. "Just in case they decide to come along. Any ideas?"

"Eider would have a sword and shield like Irso." Cetina cut in before Irso could retort. "I don't know what sort of armour you two could wear-"

"I think that's going to be the main problem," Anton said. "Even with Jonathan working flat out I don't know if there will be enough for everyone to be fully kitted out. We're going to have to settle for something like you've got, Cetina. Simple armour that protects the important places."

"Your armour looks different to everyone else's." Irso frowned lightly at Cetina, her eyes focusing on her chest plate. "Where did you get it?"

"From Bebbezzar." Cetina smile faintly. "My home. It was given to me...And it's saved me a few times so far."

Irso nodded once.

"What's your...scales like deflecting a blade?" Anton asked.

"A bit better than your skin." Irso shrugged. "But not that good. It doesn't cover me completely, unlike Eider."

"For now you're just going to have to avoid getting hit."

"That's the idea."

"And Ulyaa?" Anton asked. "I think she might be a bit more difficult than these two."

Cetina frowned as she held her chin. "I...I don't even know if she should go into battle."

Irso frowned. "What do you mean? Do you think she's not good enough to fight with you?"

"No. No." Cetina tried to wave down the angry Drakeling. "It's just that...well, she's too big to fight properly."

Irso glanced down to her chest then to Cetina's, her eyes filled with a silent rage.

"Not that." Cetina chuckled. "Though that is kind of a problem."

Anton silently agreed, he saw Verona nodding as well.

"Balance can be thrown off." Cetina coughed loudly. "But I meant that she's too wide."

Irso cocked her head. "Wide? She's not fat. No slave is ever fat."

"I mean her body is too wide." Cetina turned to face Irso. "The…Spider body. If you were to swing a sword at me, downwards, and you missed my shoulders, it would hit the ground. Yes?"

"Yes? I still don't..."

"But with Ulyaa." Cetina looked at Anton. "There's a good chance it would hit her lower body."

"And probably chop off a leg," Anton said. "If not it'll dig into her lower body."

"Oh..."

"And she can't stand in formation with someone else." Cetina smiled bitterly. "A shield that would cover her...width, would be too heavy to use properly. I don't think even Rasha or Kristof could use it properly. And if someone were to hit the edges of it the shield would just spin and leave her open to another attack."

"I didn't think of that." Verona mused.

"I don't think she could use a bow either." Kal brushed a hand over her chest, making sure that Irso was watching. "The string and her chest won't mix well."

"That sounds very painful." Anton winced.

"Getting slapped in the tits with a fast piece of string isn't fun." Verona chuckled. "Hurts for some time too."

"So she can't fight?" Irso asked. "Even if she wants to?"

"I wouldn't say that." Cetina smiled. "But it might be tricky for her. I think the best thing would be a spear, so she can keep enemies away and a crossbow, so she can fight at range. Using a crossbow gets rid of the problem that she would face with a bow."

"All three of us are thankful for chest armour," Verona whispered to Anton.

"If they agree to come I hope that's what they get." Irso appeared a little more confident after hearing Cetina's analysis. "And they'd better not be given rubbish pieces too just because they're Beastkin. If I find that those Seocurians didn't and we did..."

"I know that Jeff doesn't have a problem with the Beastkin." Anton grimaced slightly. "I don't know if I can say the same for the others..."

Irso pursed her lips as they walked in silence.

---[]---

Two young children sat outside the Smithy, holding a small white animal between them. Shawn and Jocelyn rested upon some large crates, idly swinging their legs as they patted and scratched a surprisingly docile Luna. The noise emanating from within the smithy was loud but not deafening.

We're going to need some hearing protection. Either that or we heal the Smiths and their apprentices every day. It could be good practice for people with Tethra's glyph. If we ever get any more.

"Hey, Anton!" Shawn yelled, startling Jocelyn and Luna.

Luna, upon seeing them approach, rose up but wasn't game enough to jump down. She settled for waiting patiently in their arms as it was clear they were coming for her.

"She wasn't too much trouble for you, was she?" Anton asked.

The twins laughed. "She's been fine." Jocelyn scratched just above her short tail. "She hasn't really moved until you came here."

"I knew the little rascal could behave herself." Anton gave her a little scratch before looking into the loud Smithy. "Is your father in? We've got someone that might want to work here."

The twins looked around Anton towards Cetina and Irso. They couldn't make up their mind as to who Anton was referring.

"Irso. Have you met Shawn and Jocelyn? They're the children of the head smith, Jonathan."

"Not properly," Irso said as she approached them. "I saw them go into that building but that's it."

"Are you a half breed like Kal?" Shawn asked, his voice devoid of any malice.

"No." Irso frowned as her tail gently swung low to the ground, a bad sign for a Beastkin. "Why would you think that?"

"You look a lot more like Kal than the other Beastkin." Shawn continued. "At least your face does."

He nodded to Irso's feet. As she didn't wear boots or any sort of covering her large claws were exposed as to were the scales the covered some of her skin. So too were her hands.

Irso's chuckled lightly. "I suppose you could see it that way. But I'm not. I'm a full Drakeling Beastkin." Her eyes glanced towards Kal. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Kal raised a brow but said nothing.

"Is your father in?" Anton asked again.

"Yes," Jocelyn replied. "He's in the back room again. Zac came around just before so I think they're talking in there."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to wait out here." Verona moved to a crate beside the twins. "It's really noisy in there and I don't think that we're going to be much help."

"I..." Kal wasn't sure what to do. She looked between Verona and himself, her hands fidgeting while her tail remained perfectly stationary.

"Wait out here for us, Kal," Anton said. "We won't be too long. And I know how much that noise hurts your ears."

"Thanks." Kal smiled as she took a seat next to Verona.

"I'll wait here as well," Cetina said. "I don't think anyone in there is going to harm you."

"Come on, Irso." Anton started walking towards the door. "Let's see what Jonathan has to say."

"You can't order me around," Irso grumbled as she followed.

The interior of the Smithy was still deafening as a dozen men hammered and crafted metal into usable shapes. While it hurt Anton's ears just to be inside Irso appeared to be perfectly fine. Either that or she was very good at hiding the pain.

A Smith, probably the same one Anton saw when he came in earlier, pointed to the back room. Again he could see Jonathan and the back of a very large man that resembled a bear. Zac, to be precise. Anton gave a curt nod and walked through the busy smithy, making sure that Irso stayed close.

Jonathan spotted them approaching. Zac frowned as he turned to face them but instantly lightened when he recognized them, at least Anton.

"Hello again," Anton said as he entered the room. The roaring cacophony of noise dimmed the moment he passed the wooden wall. Irso stood by the other side of the door.

"What brings you to the Smithy?" Anton asked Zac.

"Need to get my winnings." Zac laughed. "Jonathan's lost twice now, you'd think he'd start listening to me."

"I will win the next one."

"That's what you said the last time and look how that turned out. This time the bets are all over the place, so who knows who will win this time."

Anton didn't want to inquire as to what the bets were about, especially since they revolved around his personal life. He decided to ignore it and move on.

"Irso. These are two important men in Atros. This is Johnathan." Jonathan gave a small wave. "And this is Zac. He’s in charge of construction and mining."

Zac laughed heartily. "That last one was forced on me. I just told them to get to work one day and the next thing I know everyone is asking me about that stuff. I really would like to get back to building."

"If someone else comes up with that sort of experience we'll definitely see about putting them in that position."

Zac nodded and grunted his approval.

"So, if you're not too busy, Jonathan, I'd like to introduce you to Irso. She's a Drakeling Beastkin and worked in a forge in Seocuria."

"Hello, Irso." Jonathan wasn't sure if he was supposed to shake her hand so he gave her a small wave. Irso appreciated the gesture. "Welcome to the Atros Smithy."

"A Drakeling?" Zac asked aloud. "I hate to say this but you look a bit like Kal..."

Anton felt his nerves tingle as Irso's eye twitched and her clawed fingers flexed. It was easier to forgive the question when it came from a child.

"No. I am not a half breed. I am a Drakeling, descendants of dragons, and not the result of a slave master forcing himself on a woman."

Anton turned to Irso, a frown on his face. Irso's tail tucked itself between her legs as she mumbled an apology.

"Sorry I asked that," Zac said. "Out of all the Beastkin I've seen there's only...two, maybe three, that I thought might be a half breed Beastkin. Since everyone here knows about Kal."

"I..." Irso scratched her scaled ear. "I suppose it could look that way."

"Who's the other one?" Anton asked. He was genuinely curious, as really it was only Irso that could possibly pass off as a half breed.

"That spider woman." Zac frowned lightly. "Though...now that I think about it she's probably not. I'm sure there's a reason that she looks like that."

Maybe it's related to how the Beastkin came into existence. Some are clearly unnatural, like Ulyaa. A fusion of a creature and a human. But I haven't heard anything like the Arachnids were created like the Cobras were. Perhaps it was just so long ago. Something to ask her next time.

"Irso is apparently quite resistant to heat." Anton continued. "The Seocurians put them into the forges for that reason." The two cocked their heads. "A lot of Beastkin have fur. And fur doesn't mix well with sparks and embers."

"Smells awful too." Irso flicked her tail. Zac laughed as he shook his head.

If you were to work here you'd smell awful.

Judging by Irso's quick glance over Zac's exposed body, the strong body covered by a considerable amount of hair, she came to the same conclusion.

"I think Irso would make a great fit here." Anton looked out to the busy smiths and apprentices. "So long as they are fine with it."

"Good point." Zac turned to Jonathan. "How good a hold do you think you have on them?"

Jonathan scratched his head. "I do not know. Up until very recently, there was only one Beastkin here and she did not come here. At least without you by her side. And they are all from Qaiviel too."

"Might be difficult then?" Irso folded her arms and leant against the wall. "Should've expected that."

"They're just going to have to get used to it," Anton said. "When they found out that Kal was a Beastkin they didn't freak out, or call for her head. So it should be fine. Seems like it's the Church of the Holy Father that hates them the most, most people didn't really care. Though Duchess Belinda said that was true for people on the western side of the kingdom. The centre and east are far more zealous."

"If you say so." Zac looked at Irso's hands, specifically her claws. "Though if someone tries something I think that those are going to come in use."

Irso chuckled as she flexed her hand. The echoing crackle felt lighter than normal. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"If you wish to work here, Irso, I will not stop you," Jonathan said. "Do you want to start today? I have some busy work that needs doing, moving some things around and restocking the stores inside the Smithy. It is not forge work but it needs to be done."

Irso nodded. "Sure. It was getting a little difficult to just sit and wait for the sun to set. No Beastkin has had that chance before."

"I bet you’re glad to be free of that place." Zac grimaced as he folded his arms. "Sounds like it was hell."

Irso smiled, exposing many of her large teeth. "That it was. And I hope to never see it again."

"Sounds like you all might want a good drink tonight." Zac laughed. "I might run out of alcohol. How much do the big ones drink?"

Irso tilted her head. "Do you mean tall or wide?" She flashed Anton a look.

"Um. I don't really know." Zac frowned lightly. "Some of you are pretty big..."

"I didn't think slaves would be given the opportunity to even think about getting drunk." Anton mused. "Not when it would harm productivity."

"Never had the chance." Irso shrugged lightly. "Some made their own with rotting fruit but they often ended up raped, so I didn't try it."

The room went utterly silent, even the clamour of the smithy felt distant. Irso kept her face straight and flat. She didn't feel embarrassed or anything really for stating a fact about her past life.

"That..." Zac glanced at the ceiling. "I haven't heard that happening here."

"Not for a long time." Jonathan frowned. "Last time it happened was before you arrived, Anton."

"Hm." Anton held his bearded chin. "We should probably remind everyone what the punishment for crimes are. Especially for when things settle down, that's what I'm worried about."

Irso frowned lightly.

"There may be some, and it only takes one, of course, to see a Seocurian and try to enact a...what would you call it? A symbolic revenge. And if and when they do they will be dealt with accordingly."

"That's what you were talking about when we arrived."

"Yes. I'd prefer not to see a Beastkin hanging from a pole but if they commit a crime they will be punished just like any human would be."

"Sounds fair." Irso kicked herself off the wall. "Might be a good idea to say something like that over dinner. Just in case." Irso clapped her hands. "So where do you want me? No point standing here and talking all day."

"Follow me then." Jonathan exited the small room, making sure that Irso followed. She gave a quick nod to Anton before she disappeared from sight.

"Are these Drakelings always grumpy?" Zac asked.

"No idea. It could just be her...I think it might just be who she is. I don't know. But Zac, how do you make that alcohol anyway? I've been meaning to ask but I've never gotten a real answer."

"It's a secret." Zac winked. Very off-putting, a man as large as him trying something like that. Eventually, he cracked and a smile crept over his face. "Only kidding. I make it in a building next to my house."

"I'm just thinking that if we could make more we could sell it and start making some money for Atros. It’s only one revenue stream but it's a start."

"If you're not busy I could show you it."

"Sorry. After dropping off Irso we need to see Sam. Check on how her pregnancy is going."

"Ah. I think she's doing okay. Last few days she's been a bit ill, but with the Goblins..." Zac shrugged. "After you've done that come and see me at my workshop in the south. I'll be there all of today, the miners are helping with the stone and wood managed to haul in before we had to shut the gates, and I can show you then."

"Great...Oh. There's a woman that's currently travelling with us. You may have seen her, she's the one with the eyepatch."

"Yep. She was riding the biggest horse."

"Yeah. Don't give her any alcohol. Of any kind."

"She a light drinker?"

Anton sighed. "I don't think so. And that's the problem. I don't want her to drown her problems in drink so..."

"I understand. Nothing for the eyepatch girl."

"Thanks. I'll see you later then." Anton turned to leave. "Don't bring out too much booze for tonight. Otherwise, we might have a hard time corralling everyone back home."

Zac laughed as he slapped Anton on the back as they left the Smithy.

---[]---

Luna, as ever, squirmed in Anton's arm. While he did want her to be free and get some exercise there was the chance that she could get lost of trodden off if she decided to bolt after a potential source of scratches. Nonetheless, she seemed happy to return to their side.

"When was the last time we went to Jeff and Sam's house?" Anton asked Verona.

Verona shrugged. "Don't know. Probably...Probably before we left for Maxill the first time. So before Kal showed up."

Anton chuckled. "That's a long time then."

Considering that he had only been in this world since the beginning of spring, with autumn having barely even started, it was only a few months. But things could change very quickly here, the two women either side were a testament to that.

"And which house are we looking for?" Cetina asked. She kept her hand on the hilt of her sword as she looked around.

"Last time it had a large skull hanging over the front," Anton replied. "And I'm sure there were some of those blue flowers out the front as well."

"Oh. We need to get some of those." Verona's eyes turned misty.

Her old home, now torn down, had a row of some pretty blue flowers outside. They were the only thing in good condition at her old home, including herself.

"A proper garden would be nice." Kal's tail swished behind her, like a snake through the air. "We'd had to have someone to look after it when we're gone but..." Kal smiled at him and Verona. "Some flowers would be nice to wake up to."

Anton made a note to get the garden underway as soon as possible.

They found Jeff's house fairly quickly. The buildings nearby had been improved but his house had remained almost untouched. Though it was one of the better ones and probably even better than Anton's current home. Two empty chairs sat to the side of the door underneath the veranda. Verona chuckled upon seeing them and shook her head.

"Shouldn't Jeff have someone here?" Kal asked as Anton was about to knock on the door. "I mean, his wife's pregnant and he's in command of the military of Atros. If someone wanted to attack us this would be a great place to attack. Pregnant women can't defend themselves easily."

"Experience?" Anton asked.

"Graterious. Bandits raided a village I was sleeping near when I had just left Seocuria. The pregnant women didn't stand a chance. Most of the men survived but..." Kal shrugged. "It's hard to keep a place going when most of the women and children are dead."

Verona and Cetina grunted. It wasn't a pleasant image.

"I'll have a chat with Jeff when we're done." Anton knocked loudly. "We need to make sure our own house is secure. It wouldn't be too hard for someone to sneak in right now."

"Not a nice thought..." Verona spoke softly.

A light thudding, footsteps, came from behind the door. Slowly the door opened, a face peered around the side.

"Hello." Sam's tired and somewhat exhausted face lightened upon seeing them. "Jeff said that you were back. And you'd brought a lot more than just you three." Sam glanced at Cetina.

"Yes. It was quite a journey. Can we come in? Save you from standing up."

"Of course. We've got enough seats in the dining room."

Sam opened the door fully but had already turned away before Anton could get a look at her stomach. She was only four to five months pregnant at most. There should be some clear signs but her stomach wouldn't be so large that she would have to waddle, at least yet. Anton smirked at the idea of Verona and Kal waddling with swollen stomachs.

Sam led them through to a large room with a long wooden table and six chairs surrounding it. She took her seat at the head and exhaled loudly. Already she was suffering. And she had a long way to go before she could give birth.

Maybe that's why it hasn't been successful. At least, until now.

Anton took the seat next to Sam, catching a glimpse of her stomach. It had grown a little but since she, and everyone else, wore loose clothing it was hard to tell. Her bust may have grown slightly but Anton wasn't too sure.

If Verona's get any bigger I'm sure she'll hurt her back. And Kal won't be having much fun either.

When everyone had taken their seats Sam loudly clapped her hands. "So, Jeff tells me that you've brought a wholesale bunch of Beastkin back to Atros. Did you find your mother, Kal?"

"We did. And we managed to rescue my old friends too."

"And what about humans with really dark skin? What is that?"

"We found some refugees from the Seocurian Empire and brought them back after their home was overrun by Goblins."

Sam stretched her arms over her head. "Those little bastards kept me awake with worry. Every little creak and groan I heard I thought it was them about to burst into our bedroom and carry me away. Like they did to Dana. Poor girl." Sam rubbed her stomach, it had grown a little. "I can't begin to imagine what it was like in those tunnels and caves. But thank the Old Gods you three returned and got rid of them. It really wasn't doing my baby any good."

"That's why we've come." Anton smiled. "To make sure that everything goes well with your pregnancy."

"I really hope it does." Sam gently rubbed her stomach. "Jeff can't go through another one. He was so happy when I told him I was pregnant. I can't lose this one."

Sounds like more than one miscarriage. I don't know how either of you would feel about that. To say that it has probably put a strain on your relationship would be an understatement. If Verona and Kal looked like that and they lost theirs...I don't know what I'd do.

"Verona's told me it's been difficult for you. If you'll let us I'd like to cast a healing prayer over you and your baby. Just to be safe."

"Okay." Sam frowned, reached out and held Anton's hand. "But what about if you aren't here and something goes wrong?"

"Kal can use the prayer magic just like I can." Sam appeared genuinely surprised. "Better than me, actually."

"He's just saying that so I get embarrassed." Kal's tail swayed pleasantly through the air.

"So, can we?"

"I would be so happy if you would." Sam moved the chair so she faced him. "Do you need to touch my stomach or...?"

"It might help." Anton looked to Kal. "Do you want to do this?"

"I don't know. Are you alright with me doing this?"

Sam chuckled. "Kal, it doesn't bother me in the slightest that you're a Beastkin. And I'm not going to freak out because I feel one of your claws poking my stomach. Anton trusts you and that's more than enough for me."

Kal's face reddened ever so slightly as she moved in front of Sam. Her tail moved very happily, even if she tried to remain calm and composed. She knelt and laid her hand upon her stomach.

"What...I know. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal this woman and the child within her. May her pregnancy be without incident and the child born healthy."

Kal's breathing quickened, a foot slid back to steady herself and her tail stopped moving. Sam looked slightly worried before Kal exhaled loudly and smiled.

"It's done. You and your baby should be healthy for your whole pregnancy." Kal chuckled. "They're going to be fine."

"They?" Everyone asked together.

"Yes. I think that's why it took so much mana out of me. I said only one baby."

"Twins?" Sam held Kal's hand, completely uncaring about the differences between them. "Twins? Are you seriously telling me that I have two babies inside of me?"

"At least two," Kal answered flatly. "That's what it felt like. It could be more, I don't know."

Sam covered her mouth and held her stomach. "After waiting for so long I finally have a child and it turns out to be twins." Sam reached down and pulled Kal up for a hug. Kal's body, not entirely prepared for contact, turned completely rigid, her hands sticking out to avoid contact while her tail stayed still. "Thank you, Kal. Thank all of you."

"We didn't do much." Verona looked at Cetina. "Again."

Kal coughed and Sam gently relinquished her hold. Kal took her seat next to Verona as Sam rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands.

"I feel so much better now. I've been sort of moping about all day but now I have lots of energy. Now I can actually leave the house and go for walks now. Get some sunlight and fresh air."

"All of that is going to be good for the babies." Anton smiled. "Jeff is supposed to be at the Training Fields right now. We're about to go there, do you want to come with us?"

"Absolutely." Sam delicately stood up. "Maybe that prayer stuff of yours can't fix everything but it's damn close. I still feel a bit odd but that's probably because I've got another person growing inside of me."

Sam laughed again as she turned to the door. Kal stayed behind the other girls and flashed him a look, that she wanted to talk. Verona understood the look and brought Cetina to the front with her, leaving Anton and Kal at the back.

"Something wrong?" Anton whispered to Kal as they exited the house.

"I used nearly all my mana to do that," Kal replied. Anton was grateful she was almost the same height. "And I haven't used any today. I could make dozens of those arrows but that nearly made me fall over."

Anton looked ahead. Cetina, looking very distressed, was speaking with Sam, while Verona watched on smug. Interrogate was probably a better term. Verona had told him that she had deftly lifted all the secrets about their relationship. Thankfully she didn't have the time since Kal joined. He really didn't want her to know and judge them. Or offer Verona unsolicited advice.

"So long as they are fine now," Anton whispered. "We'll get some Karak fruit before we start trying to make the portals."

Kal nodded. "I...I just got the feeling that she, and the babies, wouldn't have survived the pregnancy. I can really say where that's from but...my heart tells me that. Maybe it was Tethra that told me that."

Anton kissed Kal's lips then her forehead. "Then it's a good thing we were here then. Don't tell anyone that. Okay?" Kal nodded seriously. "Come on. Let's stop Sam before she manages to break Cetina with her questions."

Chapter 114 - Vol 4 - Spinning and Writhing

Chapter 114:

Anton returned to the Training Fields to find it awash with activity. Men and women sparred and trained relentlessly on the flat trodden grass. A handful of instructors, including Jeff, barked orders at the trainees, saying whatever was necessary to keep them moving.

"It's come a long way," Anton said to Sam.

"You should see Jeff when some new people from Qaiviel arrive." Sam chuckled devilishly. "They're used to hardships so Jeff can really work them over. After the first day, most of them can barely move."

"That sounds like it could be dangerous." Anton mused. "To morale at least."

Sam contemplated his words. "Maybe. But after a few days, they aren't complaining. They look and feel stronger. And if there's anyone that's a little haughty he makes sure they are broken very quickly."

"By broken?" Kal trailed off.

"Sorry Kal." Sam laughed awkwardly. "That was probably the wrong thing to say to you. What I mean is that..." Sam frowned as she held her chin. "I don't know a better way to say it."

"It's okay." Kal tried her best to reassure Sam. "I understand what you mean. Just please don't say that around the Beastkin. It'll bring back way too many bad memories."

"I'll be sure to let Jeff know." Sam began walking towards Jeff. "I wonder what he's going to say when he sees me up and about?"

The groups training only paid them a momentary glance before an instructor barked and they redoubled their efforts. Anton didn't know much about stances but simply having strength and stamina was a very good start. Especially where the bow and sword were some of the most advanced weapons they had.

Jeff only realised they were approaching when he heard the crunching of grass underneath their feet. Despite the noise of the training he still heard it, even with all the movement and activity underway in the training fields very few people were moving about. Jeff frowned lightly but it quickly faded upon realizing who he saw.

"Sam!" Jeff broke from his position and ran to her side. "You're up. How do you feel?"

Sam wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. "Much better. These last few days have been absolutely terrible." Sam relinquished her hold and brought one of his hands to her stomach. "They came around to make sure I was alright and did their magic thing on me and the babies. I feel a lot better now."

"That's wonderf...Babies? Did you just say babies?" Jeff looked at Sam's slightly swollen stomach. "More than one?"

"Yep." Sam squeezed the hand on her stomach. "That's what they told me. And I trust them. They have no reason to lie."

"How do you know that, Anton?"

Anton shook his head. "It wasn't me. Kal healed Sam."

Jeff turned to Kal. He wasn't worried that Kal's Beastkin hands touched Sam, merely questioning how she knew.

"I…” Kal coughed lightly. “When I healed Sam I asked Tethra to heal the child within her. But it took…enough mana that there must have been two. I’m not certain but that’s what it felt like.”

Either that or she was in such poor health that she about to die…That doesn’t seem likely though. Maybe the children needed more since mana since they still have so much life to live? I really need someone to explain the intricacies of this power-

Anton’s thought train was cut by something touching his hand. Verona poked the back of his glyphed hand as she looked up at him, not worried but simply throwing up a questioning brow.

“Lost in my thoughts again,” Anton whispered to Verona.

“Well.” Jeff clapped his hands. “If it is, then that’s brilliant. If not, then we’ll still have a healthy child. And everyone’s been waiting for so long.”

Jeff glanced back to the trainees. They were still working hard but they were within hearing range. Jeff approached Anton and Kal and leant in.

“Can I ask you to keep doing that? Just in case something goes wrong. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton pulled Kal in for a sideways hug. “We’ll be sure to stop by from time to time. If you do think something’s wrong don’t hesitate to get us. It’ll only take a few seconds to do and it could save a life.”

“I don’t have a problem with it.” Kal continued. “It’s a good way for me to train my mana control too. Tethra’s magic looks completely different to the fire or lightning and I need every bit of training I can get.”

“Thank you, you two.” Jeff gently waved Sam over. “It means a lot to us. Now, are you just escorting my lovely wife or do you need something else?”

“We need somewhere that we can experiment with some magic. And within the walls, we don’t know if we’ll be so distracted that we won’t see a Goblin or a Kobold sneak up on us.”

“You can take the far side of the field.” Jeff waved to the far side, near a strange wooden corral. “Near that Goblin you wanted.”

Anton laughed. “Oh…I’d completely forgotten about it.”

“You wanted a what?” Cetina asked, shocked and utterly stunned.

“Sometimes it’s better not to ask,” Verona spoke softly, annoyingly Kal agreed with her, though they appeared to be putting it on just a bit. Cetina didn’t know what to think.

“I’m not that bad,” Anton said. “I wanted to know more about the Goblins and the only way to do that is if I have one.”

“What could you possibly want to know about them?” Cetina asked, a slight frown wrinkling the large horizontal scar across the bridge of her nose.

“How to kill them, mainly.” Anton smiled wickedly.

“He’s not wrong.” Verona sighed and flicked back the silver hair trailing over her ear. “One of the first things that he did was cut open a Goblin.”

“Okay…” Cetina stared at him blankly.

“I wanted to know what they were made of since the only thing anyone could tell me was that they were a menace. But I did find a number of useful things. Such as how they can eat grass to survive, though they can eat meat but it’s not necessary.”

“That would explain why it’s so hard to get rid of them.” Cetina held her chin.

“It seems you know more about the world than we do.” Jeff began. “Has anywhere succeeded in getting rid of them?”

“Maybe a few islands.” Cetina shrugged. “I think they’re to the west of Qaiviel, but they’re really small so it’s not that hard. I think everywhere else just has to put up with them.”

“And have them be a constant thorn and threat.” Anton shook his head. “So much effort has to be put into just dealing with them and making sure their populations don’t explode. Such a waste.” Anton clapped his hands. “I was planning to use that Goblin to tell me how long it would take for them to starve to death. The old capital Surdon is teeming with them and it’s only a matter of time before we’re going to have to deal with them.”

Not to mention we can’t go much further south than that. Just what is so important to Nithroel there? Is it just a buffer zone between us and her precious Wood Elves? I wish I could ask that Ferula woman. I get the feeling she might know something about it.

“And instead of seigeing them down, fighting in the ruined streets and have them jump us, I wanted to see if we could just wait outside and kill any that escape. So is it dead?”

Jeff nodded. “Yep. It lasted a long time but it died just before you got back. We gave it water…That was the punishment for someone disobeying an order, and nothing else. It’s…It’s crazy how tough those things are.”

“I want to take a quick look and then I’ll burn the corpse. If there’s nothing more to learn there’s no reason for it to just sit there and rot.”

Jeff smiled. It probably hadn’t done anything good for morale, to know there was a live Goblin inside Atros, one that could possibly escape and wreak havoc before finally tracking and killing it.

No one brought it up at the Council meeting. I guess they just wanted me to forget it and not start to collect the things for experiments. Not that I can begrudge them that opinion.

“Just one look and then it’ll be gone.” Anton smiled warmly. The others didn’t look so sure.

The Goblin, tied and staked to the ground, looked utterly repulsive. They did normally but this was different. Sunken skin covered the thin potbellied creature. Glassy and withered eyes stared endlessly at the clear blue sky. Its open mouth was utterly dry while its tongue, looking like dried and salted meat, hung loosely from its side. If anything Anton pitied the creature. This Goblin hadn’t done anything. And yet, if it was released it would have attacked someone, dragged them back to their nest for a fate that he didn’t even want to begin to imagine. Dana knew all too well what awaited a woman in a Goblin nest.

“How long was it before it stopped trying to escape?” Anton asked. Jeff and Sam looked at him oddly. “Look at its wrists and ankles. It tried to tear through the ropes.”

“We’ve had someone keep an eye on it,” Jeff replied. “A couple of troublemakers, with long spears so they don’t get too close.” Jeff laughed. “It scared them straight pretty quick. Nothing like a night of silence only to be scared shitless when it starts screeching.”

“And you don’t think there is a connection between it dying and the Goblin attack?” Kal asked. “Anton’s right, we don’t know much about them. Not really.”

Jeff shook his head, turning towards the small mountain in the distant northeast. “No. This thing was still alive when they started getting close to Atros. And it died three days before the assaults started. There could be something…I don’t know. Usually, it’s you that tells me there’s something linking this and that.”

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe they have some sort of faint psychic link, drawn to this Goblin stuck in incredible pain.” Anton shrugged. “But I don’t have anything to find out. And I don’t want to use Tethra’s power on it.”

“So do your thing and set it alight.” Jeff held Sam’s hand and pulled her away. “The sooner it’s gone the better.”

“Could you please hold Luna?” Anton handed over the white fluff ball. Jeff accepted. Luna didn’t seem to mind but didn’t like his big, rough hands holding her. Still, she endured it.

Anton knelt beside the withered dead Goblin.

“Kal? Can I borrow your knife?”

Zig’s ornamental knife came into view. Anton took the blade and said a wordless thanks. He prodded the leathery skin. It was tough like it always was, but it was clear that the flesh underneath was completely dead and loose. With the knife embedded into the skin, he could easily lift up large sections with ease.

“Any particular reason you’re doing that?” Verona knelt beside him. “Apart from taking some revenge on them?”

“Not really,” Anton admitted.

“They’re so disgusting.” Cetina kept her hand on her sword. “Especially like this.”

“True.” Anton took the blade and prodded around its face. The skin was just like that of its arm, loose and saggy. “But shouldn’t it be taught? Everything else when it dries out does that. Like the dried meat. And yet this…”

“Maybe they rot fast?” Cetina offered. “Thessos is far colder than it is here, but I remember the Goblins always rotted like they were further away from the mountains. Is…Is that relevant?”

“Probably.” Kal murmured.

Despite Anton trying to appear confident he didn’t actually know what he was looking for or even how to perform a proper dissection, one that would give him answers. Still, they had the answers that they needed. The Goblins would die given enough time, but it simply wasn’t a viable tactic for their small numbers. There was no way they could even surround a small nest and starve them out. Not to mention the Goblins, while not intelligent, were very crafty. They would find a way through a perimeter and collect one of the most common things around, grass.

Anton sighed. “Well, there’s not much else to say. They can starve to death but it’s far too complicated for us.”

“Easier to just kill them with an arrow or a blade.” Kal leant over Anton, her body casting some shade.

“Yeah…Jeff. Do you remember the Goblin Commander from Mount Aspire?”

“I do. Not something I want to think about often. That thing blocked your magic. Then Verona had to charge into the fray to kill it.” Kal and Cetina looked surprised between Jeff and Verona. “Quite a sight to see a silver-haired little woman flying through the air.”

Verona laughed. “What a shitty day that was.” She pulled closer to Anton. “Though the night before was incredibly fun.”

Anton ruffled her hair. “That it was. But we kept the body because it was so weird, harvested some of the more odd parts…Do we still have those?”

“Should do. Unless someone’s eaten them. But I’m sure we’d know about it then.”

“Well, near the end of that whole thing, when we cut into it you said you saw something near the neck?"

"Yeah. And then it started writhing about before its guts turned inside out."

"What?" Kal and Cetina asked simultaneously.

"That was gross." Verona flicked her hands. "Didn't get much on me but by the Gods did it stink."

"Not to mention that its ribcage had torn itself apart."

"When did this happen?" Sam held Jeff's hand tight. If anything she looked a little cross. "And when were you going to tell me?"

"Just after the Goblins had been defeated. And I didn't tell you because it wasn't that bad and I didn't want you to worry."

Sam didn't look too happy with his answer but accepted it when he planted a loving kiss on her lips.

"Just don't do something silly like that again." She mumbled.

"I won't. I think it'll be Anton from now on." Jeff looked at the withered Goblin. "If he really wants to."

"Apart from that, I don't have any need of this thing." Anton looked to the Goblin. "Where did you say it was?"

"At the base of the neck. Where Verona managed to rip it off. Then climbed onto its corpse and screamed at the Goblins to run."

"You never told me that," Kal smirked at Verona.

"I..." Verona shrugged as a light flush crept up her face. "I'd almost forgotten that."

"There's no way I ever will," Anton said. "I'll never forget how brave you were."

Verona opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. Instead, she chose to just enjoy the moment.

"If we cut it a bit above the neck we might be able to find it." Anton was more speaking to himself than anyone else. He didn't miss the sound of Cetina drawing her sword and Kal backing away. "That's a good point. Verona? How do you feel about using your blood power to cut this thing apart?"

Verona shrugged as she drew her small blade. "It doesn't bother me. Probably safer this way too. But..." Verona moved close to his ear. "What about the children. If I use my power a lot will it affect them?"

"I...I honestly don't know. Right now it shouldn't, since it wouldn't be a baby yet...But when it starts to get noticeable I want you not to use it. Just in case."

"Got it." Verona stood up and pulled Anton along with her. "I don't think it has much blood in it."

"It's hardly going to attack us," Kal said flatly.

"That's what we thought about the Goblin Commander." Anton offered his hand to Verona. "And that didn't exactly end well."

Verona made a tiny cut and drew up her standard amount of blood. She held the blood in a long crystallized blade as she gently pushed Anton back several paces. Without moving her hand the blade struck the withered Goblins neck underneath its jaw. Verona gave no indication of difficulty, neither did her blood as it carved through the dried skin and flesh. The blade twisted and kicked the severed head away, Sam squeaked as it rolled away and held tighter onto Jeff. A thick dark red blood oozed from the wound with the same viscosity as tar.

"Definitely dead now." Verona chuckled.

It was hard to tell what she was thinking, her brilliant red eyes hid her thoughts but her smile didn't. Goblins had destroyed her home and her parents. There was no way she would miss the opportunity to kill or hurt one of these despicable creatures.

So long as it doesn't go too far.

Verona broke the large blade into tiny slivers. "Just near the base? Around the shoulders?"

"Yeah." Jeff didn't appear too phased by Verona's glowing body and eyes. He knew exactly how dangerous it could be but also knew the person beneath. "I don't know exactly where though. I saw a glint and then it all went weird."

"I'll be very gentle then." Verona almost smirked as the blood shards began to cut at the Goblins neck.

Small pieces of skin and dried flesh slowly fell away. Verona directed a single thin and wide shard to scrape them away. Neck bones soon joined the growing pile as Verona worked her way down to the base. As the shards began to dig further Verona slowed them down to a crawl.

"You know, I might have something." Verona turned to Jeff, her eyes and body still glowing bright red. "There is actually something here...Maybe." Verona turned back to the Goblin. "Or it could just be a really hard bone."

"Be gentle." Anton held her shoulder. "Whatever it is it's extreme fragile-"

One of Verona's shards clicked, barely audible above the murmur of distant training. The corpse jolted up, the stakes and ropes holding it down groaned under the strain. Verona pushed Anton back, throwing a shard deep into its chest, while Kal pulled him back further and Cetina advanced with her sword ready to strike. Jeff moved in front of Sam, passing her a distressed Luna, and quickly pushed her back. She almost lost her footing but managed to keep upright, with a hand on Jeff's shoulder.

As quickly as it had begun the corpse thrashed one last time before turning limp and still. Only after a few seconds of anxious waiting did the girls start to relax.

"Okay. We're not doing that again." Verona said flatly. "Whatever it is we've done it twice and this has happened both times. I don't want a third time."

"At least it didn't explode." Jeff made sure Sam could stand on her own feet. "And cover us in its guts."

"Look at its chest." Kal's hands went for her back, to retrieve the bow that rested in their home. She clicked her tongue as she drew an old rusted blade.

Anton had been too focused on its arms and legs, wondering if it could actually get loose. The small rib cage, usually sitting over a distended pot belly, had tried to open. The dried leathery skin prevented it and caught the opening bones, forming a large hump along its chest, the rib bones pulling tight against the skin.

"I've never seen that before," Cetina mumbled. "And I've seen some crazy things in the last winter. And that..."

“Can you please burn it now, Anton?” Kal asked.

Anton summoned a small fireball.

There’s something strange that’s going on with the Goblins. Something…Yet I don’t know what. It was clearly dead and yet it still had enough ‘life’ in it to jolt back when Verona broke…whatever she just found. We should keep investigating but with something that isn’t so destructive. But in this world, we don’t have real medical equipment and I don’t want to use my magic on it just in case something happens. Perhaps Ferula might know something? I don’t like having to rely on someone like her for everything.

Anton threw the small fireball onto the Goblin. The withered corpse quickly engulfed in flame and burned to ash. Only when the last fragment of the Goblin was gone did the girls relax.

“Okay…” Cetina rubbed her temple. “This is…This place is so strange.”

Verona laughed as she relinquished control of her blood. “You get used to it.”

“At least now we can use all of the Training Field now.” Jeff looked to his trainees. Without his presence, they had slacked off and some were mulling around aimlessly. Anton saw the veins on his head bulge. A wicked smile crept up his face.

“Looks like someone’s about to do a lot of running.” Jeff rubbed Sam’s stomach again. “While I deal with them what will you do?”

“I think I’ll go for a walk. Now that I can actually walk outside the house without feeling sick I kind of want to see these Beast-kin for myself. I’ve only seen Kal. Are they different to us?”

“Some of them are.” Jeff laughed. “A spider, a snake and a big blue giant just to name a few. But they seem like good people. And you, Anton?”

“We’re going to practice some of our magic. I’ve been thinking of ways to make a way to make it easier to get from one place to another. So we can get the Beast-kin here much faster than before, so we don’t have to cross a whole Kingdom.”

“Sounds interesting.” Jeff held his chin. “I’m sure there’s more that you want to do with it than that, you always do, but I suppose if you could do something like that we could also get our wood, stone and coal much faster.”

“And we can start to buy and sell things directly with the Kingdoms and Empires. Then we can really start to build up Atros.”

“Ha! I guess Johnathan’s about to be out of a job.”

“Not in the least. Do you remember my little project?”

Cetina raised a brow at Jeff. Jeff chuckled.

“Yes. Yes, I remember it. My ears do, at least. I don’t understand what that was all about, that seems something that’s common when talking about you, but I know it’s important.”

And right now there’s under a handful of people that can guess what potential those have. Not to mention there are other things that I’d like to bring from Earth. And not all of them are related to killing too. I’m sure the girls will appreciate that…

“So what do you need?” Jeff asked.

“We’ll keep away, just in case, but is there something that we need. We need some of those Karak fruits since we’re going to need all the mana we can get. Do we have some on the tree or not?”

“I think so. I’ll send someone to get all of them.”

“Not all of them. We can only have about four or five every day.”

“Why?” Sam tilted her head questioningly.

“Because we’ll be sick if we do.” Verona chuckled. “Anton chucked up pink vomit last time.”

“This was before I was here?” Kal asked. “Right?”

“Yes, yes.” Verona dismissively waved her hand. “You haven’t seen Anton puke yet.”

“I’ll get…Cetina, can you use magic?”

“No.” Cetina idly scratched her eyepatch. “I don’t think I ever will. And after I got this I definitely can’t.”

“Right…I’ll get ten then. I’m guessing that Verona’s blood power isn’t going to be useful for this.”

Verona chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah. My power can’t do anything like that. If you want to keep the rain off your head then it’s perfect.”

Jeff and Sam looked confused but there would be time tonight to explain. Jeff signalled to a villager and sent him on his way.

“Anything else?”

“Um…Do you have about sixteen rocks of the same size?” Jeff frowned at Anton’s question. “I’m going to use those as the base for my portal. I want to be able to make it a reasonable size and so that it can be picked up and moved easily.”

“That’ll definitely help in Seocuria.” Kal smiled as her tail began to swish seductively through the air. “We could free an entire plantation and move onto the next one without having to take them to a ship.” Kal pumped her fists into the air. “Let’s do it, Anton.”

“We could finally get that bed.” Verona giggled deliriously as her body swung to and fro, her mind lost in the comforts of the Graterious bed.

“What bed?” Sam asked Jeff. “I feel like I need a lot of things explained to me. And yet…I think I can guess what that one is.”

“Oh, you’d love it too.” Verona sidled up to Sam, nudging her side before taking Luna from her hands. “Big, soft and sturdy. What everyone wants.”

“I understand now,” Sam spoke and smiled flatly.

“If you could find some stones then that would be more than enough to get us going.”

“You’ll get them in a moment,” Jeff smirked as he looked back to his trainees. One was looking towards them and warned the others. A ripple ran through them, they knew that something bad was coming for them. “If you four will excuse me I need to get some people running.”

Jeff and Sam gave a small wave as they walked away. Anton felt his heart warm watching them hold each other tight. That feeling faded when Jeff began yelling at the trainees. Instantly they straightened up and began shaking under his shouts. Anton sighed and turned to the three girls.

“Jeff’s right.” Verona began. “I won’t be much use.” Verona glowed red and drew up the blood on the grass, she recovered about a third. “I’ll just go over here and practice controlling this.” Verona’s face grew dark. “Don’t worry. I won’t do what I did last time. I don’t want to be shocked again.”

“Okay.” Anton pulled Verona close and kissed her deeply. Kal looked a bit jealous while Cetina looked away, a slight redness to her face.

Verona sniggered and pulled him down. “Not bad…” She nibbled his ear. “You’re getting better at it.”

Before Anton could ask Verona gave him another quick kiss and backed away. She moved closer to the wall and sat down. She placed Luna near the wall and gently patted her. The Peryton nuzzled against her leg and began to doze lightly. Verona glowed red as the blood floated in front of her face and began to swirl and transform in strange patterns.

“What about me?” Cetina asked. She scratched her head as her other hand gripped on the pommel of her sword.

“I’m not really sure.” Anton smiled bitterly. “I suppose you could get some practice, some training, in? It’s up to you since there’s not much you can do to help us. If you just want to rest in the shade you can do that. It’s up to you.”

Cetina looked at the ongoing training. “I…I might go and see what they’re doing. If I’m going to be a trainer I need to know the sort of people I’ll be working with, at least that’s what my trainer said. Besides I’m starting to feel a little weak.” Cetina laughed as she rotated her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll have a real chance to swing my sword…I’ll talk to you later.” Cetina took a step before stopping, spinning on her heel. “And if you are going somewhere else please come and get me?”

“Sure.” Anton smiled, giving her a small wave. “Have some fun. We’ll probably be here for a little while.”

Cetina gave a small wave before walking towards the nearest group of trainees. She spoke with the leader for a moment, pointed towards Anton and fell into line swinging a sword. Though he couldn’t see her face she appeared to be enjoying herself.

“Well, good for her.” Anton turned to Kal. “We might need to start doing something like that. Some proper exercise.”

“Cetina was very adamant for us to get stronger.” Kal kicked at the dry grass. “I think it’s a good idea too.”

“No such thing as a gym here,” Anton mumbled. Kal titled her head as her tail swished low to the ground. “Oh. Basically, a place where you can train specific parts of your body. I think that for now, at least something like that’s going to be our best bet.”

“I…I don’t know if I want to practice in front of others.” Kal smiled. “I just…I don’t know.”

“We’ll do it in the garden.” Kal coughed as her face reddened. She had more than just training on her mind. “Seriously…Insatiable.”

Kal laughed as Anton rubbed her ears. No matter what or when she loved to have them scratched. A few moments passed of Kal murmuring as Anton continued to pat her ears before two men ran towards them. Both had a large bag in their hands. Anton relinquished Kal’s fluffy ears, Kal seemed a little disappointed and accepted the bags before they returned to their training. One bag held ten Karak fruits, Anton had missed the pink and juicy fruits, far better than the vile blue mana potions from Graterious, and the other held sixteen large smooth stones. Where they had found these stones so quickly he didn’t know.

Anton passed Kal one of the fruit and took one for himself. With every bite he felt his mana recover, he continued until it was completely gone. Kal ate more slowly than him and far more neatly. When she saw that he had finished, and only about a third of hers was gone, she redoubled her efforts and devoured the fruit. Her teeth weren’t like a human’s, all incisors designed for cutting and tearing through meat not for crushing and grinding vegetables and fruits. She always had a little trouble eating the non-meat parts of her meal. When she was finished a considerable amount of juice remained stuck to her face. Anton chuckled as he took his sleeve and wiped it away. Kal pouted her mocha tanned face as he rubbed it vigorously.

“I’m not a child.” Kal murmured as she took another Karak fruit, a sly smile on her face.

“I like pampering you all.” Anton chuckled. Kal shook her head and ate the next fruit quickly.

“Stop it.” Kal wiped her mouth before Anton could. “I feel a lot better now. I think I’ve got about half of my mana back.”

“Better than what I’ve got from them. Let’s take a seat a little bit away from the Goblin corpse.”

Kal readily agreed with him. A few meters away they sat on the dry grass, placing the Karak fruit bag to his side and the bag of stones between them.

“How is this going to work?” Kal asked. “It sounds like you have an idea.”

“I have an idea. Okay. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, make these eight stones, and when placed in a circle, open a gateway to another set of gateway stones with...with..." Anton pointed at Kal's waist, to one of her blades. She hurriedly passed it over as Anton continued to mumble. He took a stone and scratched a cross into one. "With this marking. May it use Earth mana to fuel it and may it function so long as the circle is in place."

Please understand Tethra what I'm trying to say.

A great rush of mana left his body, taking his breath along with it. Even his vision blackened for a moment. A second passed, a heartbeat skipped, and he could breathe once again. When his eyes focused he saw Kal looking on with great concern.

"I'm fine." Anton took a rasping deep breath. "Just give me a minute and I'll be back to normal."

"You know that we all hate seeing you do that," Kal grumbled as her face contorted into a great frown.

"I'd rather go through it then watch one of you look and feel like this." Anton felt his breath and heart steady.

"What about us?!" Kal hissed. "When we watch you do things like that...It's not like we don't feel terrible watching you exhaust yourself and nearly pass out. I don't want to raise a child without their father."

"I..." Anton scratched his head and looked away. "Sorry."

Kal’s ears pulled back. "I probably went too far. But we do worry about you. You can rely on us more, you don't have to worry and fuss over every little thing. Otherwise, you'll always be too tired to focus on something. Which is only going to make things worse. For all of us."

"I'm sorry Kal."

"Well, you've still got tonight to make up for it." Kal winked seductively, her tail coiling through the air behind her. "So...Did it work?"

Anton pushed away the surfacing images of their first night in Atros and picked up one of the stones. They didn't feel any different but the mark he had scratched on glowed with a faint white light. He covered it in shade just to be sure.

"Maybe." Anton showed Kal the stone. "At least this one is."

"But you were touching all of them."

"And it felt like my mana went into all of them equally. Let's set it up and see what happens." Anton rose up, his legs were a little unsteady. "Oh, and don't get them mixed up. Otherwise, we're going to have to do it all over again."

Kal nodded and took four of the stones. They laid them in a circle while Anton kept the carved stone away. After ensuring that neither he nor the stone were inside as he laid the final stone. All eight glowed white as a line of white ethereal energy ran between the stones. When they touched the sound of rushing wind filled his ears as the air rushed past him. The white light grew inward until it covered everything inside the circle. The light shimmered and began to ripple like water after being struck by a stone.

"Wow." Kal skirted the circle to his side. "This is incredible." She couldn't hold back her smile. "Did you know it was going to look like this?"

"I'd like to take the credit, but no. I had no idea." Anton squatted and looked across the white surface. It was actually rippling and wasn't an illusion. "Far more impressive than I thought it would be."

"Do you want me to make the other one now? You can't have that much mana left."

"I've probably got a little under a tenth left. But I want to check a few things first."

Anton used Kal’s blade to knock the carved stone out of the circle. The stone didn’t want to move, something like a weak magnetic force kept it in place, but gave way under a little effort. A rush of wind blasted his face and the light disappeared. The disk faded away to the circular line until that too disappeared.

“Easy enough to break.”

Anton placed the stone back. The rush of wind came again as the light disk grew back.

“Pretty simple.” Kal patted Anton’s back. “Tethra can really help make sense of some of the things you talk about sometimes.”

“Perhaps I should have just told you all that it was like a door that could lead to anywhere.”

Kal smiled warmly. “That might have made some more sense. But seeing this now…Even though it doesn’t work yet I know that it’s very special. Far more impressive than just some door. Besides, are you going to have one of us carry a door around?”

She laughed, a sweet laugh, and pulled Anton back up.

“I know that I still need to make the next one but where does this one go? If it’s like a doorway, is it even open?”

“One way to find out.” Anton picked up a handful of grass leaves and threw them onto the white rippling surface. The leaves sunk through the white light weren’t impeded in any way, but he had no idea if it had actually worked. He knelt down and rested his temple against the ground. Now that he was low enough he could see the white disk wasn’t actually touching the ground, it hovered a few millimetres above, and the grass leaves had simply passed through.

“Right now they just fell through,” Anton said as he stood up. “But I don’t want to test and find myself lost in another dimension or something horrible. Crossing from one world to another was already traumatic enough.”

Kal smiled. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ll make the other portal now and we can-”

“Wait.” Anton held her shoulder, Kal stiffened and waited for his explanation. “Better have the other three Karak fruit’s right now. It’s going to take a lot of mana.”

“Right…I’m sure there’s another reason for that as well.”

“Well…” Anton trailed off as Kal began to eat one the large pink fruits. “I don’t know if this is true but I get the feeling that having your body completely drained of mana isn’t a good thing. Especially if there’s another one inside of you.”

Kal smiled and ate the fruits in silence. Verona was continuing to practice, now the blood was forming geometric shapes as she held a deep frown on her face. Something was bothering her but so long as she didn’t fall into the strange trance that turned her into a mindless attacker it was fine. Cetina appeared to be having much more fun with the other trainees. If anything she was working the hardest, while the others had slowed or hunched down out of tiredness but she wasn’t. Anton admired that strength. Doubly so when some of the men, probably larger and stronger than her, were starting to look weak and she continued to stand strong.

With the last of the fruits eaten Kal burped loudly. She covered her mouth but she couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up her neck.

“I feel pretty good now.” Kal stretched her arms. “Just say what you did, right?”

“Just carve the cross on it first. I don’t know if Tethra will be as forgiving to you as she is for me.”

“I’d like to meet her.” Kal took back her blade and roughly scratched into the stone. “You and Verona have.”

“Yeah. Though not always for good reasons.” Kal raised a brow as she placed the stone on the pile. “Verona met her when she met Jira, not a good experience for her and Nithroel, not a good experience for both of us.”

“I would like to thank her personally though.”

I really would like to speak to them soon. Did they know about the Demons arriving just when we were passing though Graterious? Do they have more influence than I first thought or am I overthinking things? Again, only one way to find out.

Anton spent what remained of his mana to ask Tethra for a meeting. Like before he didn’t know if it worked but the mana left his body and disappeared into the ether. Without any mana his body felt lethargic and weak, his head started to pound and started to spin. He managed to take a bite of another Karak fruit before he fell down, enough of his mana returned so he could stand normally.

Kal rested a hand on the pile of stones and spoke the prayer. Kal’s ears and shoulders dropped as her tail flopped to the ground. Her breathing became laboured and harsh. She stepped back while the stones glowed faintly like the other eight.

“Are you okay?” Anton moved to Kal’s side and held her shoulder.

“See how we feel?” Kal coughed. She gently held his hand, staring deep with her bright green eyes into his own.

“Yeah…It’s not great.”

“No. But did it work?”

“Looks like it. Let’s get it set up and see what happens.”

Kal tried to stand up but her legs were still too weak, not to mention her tail refused to stand up, something that he rarely saw. He passed her a fruit, one readily devoured, and she helped him assembled the stones like before. When the last stone was placed the same light circle and disk came into being. Kal was more than a little impressed it even worked.

“More grass?” Kal asked.

Anton nodded as he tossed another handful of grass into the first white disk. It fell through just like last time and appeared in the other disk. Just as Anton was about to cry out in joy the grass blades disappeared. They floated between both disks as they constantly tumbled between the two white disks, unable to emerge properly.

“Do…Do you want to tell me what’s happening?” Kal asked. “I thought we had it.”

Anton watched the tumbling grass for a moment. “Gravity.” Kal raised an aqua brow at him. “What keeps us stuck to the ground. When it goes through the first portal it tries to out but gravity just pulls it down and back into the portal. And we can see it’s just tumbling in there. I wonder what it feels like for different parts of your body to feel like its being drawn to the ground.”

“So it doesn’t work right.” Kal sighed, holding her chin in her hand. “Unless it’s against a wall. Shame, I thought it would work.”

“Yeah…I wonder if we can just change the prayer wording a little?”

“You had to redo Cetina’s eyepatch.” Kal reminded him. “I think this might be it for today.

“True. But I might have learned something from that. Maybe we-”

“Did it work?” A voice came from his side. Verona walked towards them, her power gone and her eyes and skin had returned to normal. Luna was nestled in her arms and watching them expectantly with her doey eyes. “Oh. Wow! That looks really awesome.”

“It is.” Anton ruffled her hair. “But it’s not quite right.”

“Why?” Verona’s piercing blue eyes looked between the two portals. “They look fine to me.”

“Things just sort of tumble between the two right now.” Anton pointed at the spinning pieces of grass. “And I don’t think the Beast-kin want a rope tied to their waist so we can pull them through.”

Verona laughed. “No. No, they wouldn’t. So…Is this a failure then? That’s not like you if it is.”

“Not really.” Anton knelt by one of the carved stones. “More like a learning experience. Besides, it does seem to work, just not quite right. If we could get these stones vertical rather than horizontal-”

“Words, Anton.” Verona smiled weakly.

“If…If we had these upright like a doorway, rather than on the ground, I think it could work.”

“Damn shame.” Verona sighed. “Well, it was your first try. Tomorrow after we’ve dealt with the Goblins then? You both looked like you had run out of mana.”

Anton removed the stone from the portal. The rush of wind followed as the white disk faded back to the ring. Something gave him pause, the grass leaves that were still tumbling through the portal remained. At least some of it did. Half of the leave, perfectly cleanly cut, gently floated down to the round. The other half of the grass leaves fell through the other white disk. Verona and Kal backed away as Anton shuffled alongside the second portal and looked underneath. Sure enough, the grass had been cut in two.

"Okay." Anton stood up, brushing dried grass off his clothes. "I think it's a good thing that it doesn't work the way I thought it would."

"Because?" Verona tilted her head, Kal looked just as confused.

Anton pulled away the marked stone of the second portal. Once the white disk had faded he tentatively reached in and grasped the cut grass leaves. When he showed Kal a worried realization overcame her face, Verona still looked confused.

"I wasn't here at the beginning," Verona said softly.

"When the portal collapsed it cut these in half. Now, imagine if someone was in there and someone moved a stone."

A second passed before Verona's eyes widened in shock. "Oh! Shit. That would be terrible. Right down the middle of someone...or across their guts." Verona nodded as she looked at the incomplete portals. "Yeah. Good thing you two say that this isn't what we're going to use. It would be tough to explain to the Beastkin why it looked like we cut one of them in half."

"Yes." Anton let the grass fall from his hands. "Exactly what I don't want. But it's a good start."

"If it only worked one way then it would be fine," Kal said. "Or both ways but you don't fall back through."

"It’s on the right track." Anton tossed the stone into the air. "I think I've got the right idea for one that won't make someone tumble in place. Maybe. But we won't be able to test it until tomorrow. Now I don't know what to do with these. They're still good, just not what I wanted."

"Could..." Verona frowned even more. "If that's the main problem then...I don't know, put them on a wall so they don't keep falling down?"

"Huh..."

"You didn't just realise that, did you?" Kal asked. “I know you didn’t.”

"No. I just don't know if things are going to be turned around in there." Both girls looked oddly at him. "So, say I walked facing the mountain would I come out also looking at it or turned in some other direction? And if they were both on a wall you could come out upside-down and crack your head open. Not a great way to introduce Beastkin to Atros."

Kal chuckled. "No, it wouldn't. Neither is nearly being shot with an arrow."

"Yes...But we could mount these to a wall and use it for other things. Like throwing iron ore or coal through to save on travel time and free up a whole lot of carts and Ix." Anton turned to Mount Aspire. "Since they're going to be much smaller than a log or a chunk of stone they could do it by hand and not potentially lose a hand if it collapses. And it doesn't matter if they break or smash apart either. It would really speed things up there. I know Jonathan and Zac would be pleased. Especially Zac. It would free up a lot of manpower for collecting and transporting wood. And stone."

"Maybe one for each," Verona said. "So they don't have to sort through it to find what they want."

"We'll do that after we've made the good portal for people." Anton held his hand on Verona's head. "But that's a very good point."

Verona's face beamed with happiness. "Just like with those enchanted weapons that Shawn and Jocelyn made, there's use for them outside of fighting. Or at least the way they were intended."

"Just like yours." Kal ruffled Verona's hair as well. Verona pouted as they held their hands on her head.

"Get off me," Verona grumbled, darting forward and slipping from their grasp before moving to Anton's other side. "I think everyone's going to be impressed when they see this. And if we can make the one that you want before we have to go we can always come back to Atros each night. Or every few days." Verona sniggered. "And enjoy our bed rather than an uncomfortable rucksack."

"And start to bring in all the resources we could possibly need." Anton continued. "Hundreds of bows and crossbows. Shields, swords, everything. Once we have that, and people know how to use them, this place will be a true fortress. Compared to what it was."

"As long as Avery lets a third of the people here even touch them, let alone use them." Verona slowly shook her head, folding her arms in disapproval.

Anton was sure, at least he hoped he was, that Avery wasn't hateful and prejudiced against the Beastkin. When they had an unlimited supply of weapons the truth would be revealed.

"Hopefully that's not going to be a problem. I…Oh. There’s something new.”

Out of the main gate from the inner ring of Atros Anton saw a large blue body emerge. Rasha led several Beast-kin towards the training fields. There were probably only ten in total but it was heart-warming to see. The trainers and trainees stopped at the sight. Cetina began speaking to the trainer and he quickly waved the Beast-kin over and brought them into line. Wooden training swords were passed out and they all began training alongside the humans.

“That’s good.” Anton smiled. “I’m glad they’re actually being allowed to train with us. It’s not much but it’ll help bring everyone together.”

“So what now?” Verona asked. “We’ve still got the rest of the day. And I know that we can’t just slip away to our house just yet. Do you want to get some training in?”

“Do you think you can?” Anton looked to Kal.

“I think so.” Kal chuckled. “It’ll be a good excuse to have a bath too. I don’t want to go to bed, or even dinner, reeking of sweat.”

“A fantastic excuse.” Anton lightly kissed them both. “Right after we collect these stones. Let’s show the Beast-kin and the villagers what their saviours are capable of.”

The girls laughed, though they knew that the best outcome would be ending up piled on the ground in a sweaty heap.

Chapter 115 - Vol 4 - Tranquil Days

Chapter 115:

Beads of sweat ran down Anton's face, following the contours of his face before dripping off his eyebrows and chin. The training, as it could be hesitantly called, had drained nearly all of his strength. So much so that he could barely stand. And it still wasn't over. The wooden sword chaffed his hands under the strain and he was certain his skin was riddled with tiny splinters. His opponent, however, wasn't suffering such ailments.

"Come on Anton!" Verona cheered from the sidelines. "You can do it!"

Verona, Kal and Rasha stood at the front of the assembled crowd. Both of his wives cheered him on even as he received a one-sided battering, Kal more subdued than Verona, and Rasha clapped along with the rest of the villagers.

"I haven't even got one hit in yet," Anton said to himself, loud enough that they could hear over the cheers of the villagers. "Thank the gods that she can't use magic."

Cetina stood opposite Anton, a wooden sword in her hand. She was tired from physical exertion but nowhere near as bad. It helped that she hadn't been hit once yet. Her breathing and posture were far calmer than his. Thankfully she hadn't fallen into her trance otherwise the spar would have ended with a single strike.

"Are we still going?" Cetina asked, trying to suppress the snark that inadvertently came through. The crowd didn't care and laughed heartily. Cetina was a bit embarrassed but retained her stance.

"Not yet." Anton gripped the sword tight. "If I can get a single hit I'll consider it a win."

Cetina smiled and slowly began to advance with her sword raised.

I wish that I actually knew how to use a sword, and not just swing it about like a lunatic. I've heard of things like openings and counters, parries...But I have no idea how to do that. And there's no way I can use what little I know against her.

Anton sighed and readied his body for another pummelling. Despite his armour, the wooden sword hurt. He would definitely have bruises when they weren't finished.

"You can do it!" Kal shouted over the crowd.

"Just one hit!" Verona shouted. "I know you can do it!"

Rasha didn't know what to say so clapped alongside the Atros villagers.

"Here we go."

Anton raised his sword and advanced on Cetina. He had no idea if he was holding it right or if his footwork was good, only that it felt the most comfortable.

Better to go with what feels best when you've got absolutely no idea what you're doing.

Cetina lunged at him, her sword directed at his stomach. While the edges had been ground down just the sheer force of the weapon was enough to take his breath away. Anton jumped back but almost lost his footing and started to fall backwards. By the time he moved his foot back to steady himself Cetina was on him again. She slashed upwards in an attempt to knock his sword out of his hands. He stepped back further, this time focusing his mind on his feet, and managed to dodge the attack. Cetina didn't try again and resumed her stance.

She's hardly just going to chase me so I can take advantage of some mistake, which I wouldn't even know if I saw it unless she just fell over. I'm going to have to be on the offensive...I hope my sides can endure this.

Anton swung sideways at Cetina. Unfortunately, she was far better trained than he was. She angled her sword and deflected his towards the ground. Taking advantage of his forward momentum she dashed forward and planted her shoulder into his chest. It took the wind from his lungs and pushed him back, his legs skittering across the grass while his arms and sword waved about. Cetina, if this was a real fight, could have easily finished him off but didn't. This was a sparring match after all.

Anton rubbed where Cetina had struck. The armour that he wore wasn't strong enough to stop the impact force from a very strong woman’s shoulder charge. It didn't help that he didn't have much padding underneath.

Ulyaa said that her silk is supposed to be very strong. Perhaps having it as an underlay would be a good idea. Certainly would be now.

"Are you alright?" Kal asked. She looked ready to move in to stop the match but wasn't ready to make that call on her own.

"I'm fine." Anton laughed as he rubbed his chest. "Just going to be a bit sore after this. She's pretty strong. I can't imagine how I'd feel if I was going against Rasha."

The crowd looked at the tall blue Minotaur. It had been an idea at the beginning but it had been decided against since Rasha was simply too big and strong. Her arms alone were almost as thick as his legs. Rasha smiled awkwardly under the scrutiny of her body, several were directed at her substantial chest, before sighing in relief as everyone turned back to the sparring match.

"You can't stand still and talk in a real fight." Cetina flicked her sword towards the ground. "If you did-"

"My opponent wouldn't exactly wait patiently for me to finish my conversation. Would they?" Cetina smiled and shook her head. "They'd probably run me through the moment I looked away. Thankfully this is just a sparring match."

"You still haven't got a hit on me yet," Cetina said softly.

"You can do it, Anton!" A familiar voice shouted out from the crowd. A small deer-like creature sneezed and squeaked loudly.

"I certainly bloody hope so. Otherwise, these bruises will be for nothing."

"You are getting better." Cetina chuckled. "Slowly, but you aren't making the same mistakes you were at the beginning."

"I'd like to blame your armour but..."

They both chuckled as they readied their stance once again. Anton moved first, running straight at her. Cetina crouched low and moved a foot behind her for stability. She was going to take him head-on. Anton dug his feet into the ground, the grass flying loose in great clumps. Cetina looked surprised but didn't soften her body. Anton staggered before going to one knee and picking up a fistful of grass and sandy dirt.

Going to have to borrow from your playbook, Kal.

Cetina didn't appear to see what he did when he held the sword with both hands. A few leaves stuck out but hopefully, Cetina wouldn't think much of it. He advanced again and just before they were in range Anton threw the grass and sand at her face. Shock and surprise covered her face as the mass of rubbish hit her. She scrunched her good eye to avoid the debris. Anton charged and swung down, hitting her in the leg. The wood clanged and bounced off her armour but he didn't care. A hit was a hit.

Unfortunately for him one of Cetina's eyes still functioned. She dug her heels into the ground and swung her sword down onto Anton's back, a terrific crack resounded through the air.

"Ow!" Anton scurried away, dropping his sword and holding his back. "Ow. How much force did you put into that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it that hard." Cetina appeared genuinely remorseful. She looked at Verona and Kal, who didn't seem too worried, then to the crowd, who were far more concerned. "When you threw that grass into my face I sort of panicked and went on instinct."

"Did you fall into that trancey thing of yours?" Anton pushed hard on his back.

"No...But it was getting close."

"Anton wins!" Verona cheered. "All he had to do was get a hit in. Which he did. So all you people betting, pay up."

"You didn't take a bet, did you?"

Verona smirked and turned to Rasha. The Minotaur looked away as she pursed her lips.

"Did you bet against me, Rasha?"

"It was only the meat for tonight," Rasha spoke very quickly. "I can't eat it anyway, so Verona was going to give me her vegetables if you lost."

"Which he didn't." Verona laughed. "So make sure to ask for a lot of meat tonight."

Rasha sighed and smiled exasperatedly at Anton.

"I had no part in this," Kal said adamantly. "I knew you were going to win."

A loud clap interrupted the general murmuring of the crowd. "Alright, everyone!" The trainer stepped forward. "The fun's over and so is training for the day."

Anton looked towards the sun already quite low in the east. The day had gone by very quickly.

"Put your weapons away and get some rest." The trainer continued. "Pretty sure we'll be having dinner once the sun has set. Don't forget to have some water, you'll have lost a lot during training."

Slowly the crowd dispersed, leaving Anton to try and catch his breath.

"You did wonderful, Anton." Verona ran up and hugged his sore chest hard. Anton groaned at the pain. "Sorry. I thought you would have healed yourself."

"Not yet. But soon I think." Anton rotated his shoulder. "One of Cetina's strikes hit me in the shoulder and it's really numb now."

"That wasn't my intention." Cetina moved closer. "Why did you decide to throw that grass at me at the end?"

"I knew I couldn't beat...land a hit by fighting normally. So I had to copy someone that I know fights like that."

Anton turned to Kal who smiled under their gaze.

"Tricks I learned to survive." Kal chuckled. "A lot of the time they aren't ready for it. Though it only works a few times."

"Once is enough." Anton reached out and gently rubbed her ear. "Normally you fight your opponent to the death, not a friendly spar."

"Nothing friendly about how she smacked that sword over your back."

Kal narrowed her eyes at Cetina. Cetina began to panic under the brilliant green eyes. Kal couldn't maintain her expression and it quickly softened. Cetina breathed easy knowing she hadn't done something terrible.

"But aren't you going to heal yourself?" Kal asked. "You do look like you're breathing is a little difficult."

"Just to take the edge off," Anton said. "I still don't have that much and I don't want to pass out."

Anton chanted a prayer aloud to heal his wounds so they were more bearable. It took only a bit of his mana but he found breathing easier and his upcoming bruises less painful.

Rasha ground a hoof onto the dry grass. "I'm surprised they don't have anyone that can do that in Seocuria. It would keep a lot of Beastkin slaves alive. And it's not like they don't have the money."

"If Tethra said the truth than we might be the only two in the world that can use her power right now." Anton rubbed Kal’s head. "Which makes us kind of special, I think. The only other place that might have them are the Deweth Clans."

Both Kal and Rasha turned grim at the mere mention of that place. Verona and Cetina raised a brow to him.

"What could the Clansmen possibly do to the Beastkin that the Seocurians already don't do?"

Kal was hesitant to answer.

Rasha sighed as she played with her red hair. "The Seocurians, despite all the crap they put us through, still need us to work. The Clansmen...Don't."

"Oh..."

"I don't understand." Verona glanced between the two Beastkin.

"Some are used for work." Rasha continued. "In the freezing cold and ice. Usually, they send the Canine or Wolf Beastkin but sometimes the Seocurians will give them someone like me, who doesn't have any fur, or like Eider, who's cold-blooded."

"And she'd just stop and freeze." Anton frowned. "It's meant to snow here too..."

"I've never seen it myself but that's what happens." Rasha shrugged. "Apparently."

"Even if it doesn't the stories are enough to keep you in line." Anton looked at the snow-capped mountain range on the distance. "Freezing to death is not a good way to go. Doubly so when there's probably a whip on your back."

"Is there a good way?" Rasha asked softly.

Anton shrugged. "A bullet to the head would probably be the best. If it had to happen." Cetina and Rasha looked a little confused. Earth terms had no meaning in this world. At least for now. "Sounds like we're going to have to deal with the Clansmen after we're done with Seocuria."

"Do you regret letting those Clansmen go?" Verona asked.

"No. They were hardly a threat anymore. And that one...What was his name? Iva...Ivano, that's it. He seemed like a good person. Or at least that's how he came off to me. I wonder how they're doing. If we could speak to them we might be able to get books or something on how to use our powers. Even yours." Anton squeezed Verona's shoulder. "There are supposed to be some Blood Berserkers up there."

"Same with my hair." Verona twirled the long strands. "Apparently my clan, the Silver Eagles, or whatever they are called, are somewhere up there. Not that I want to know." Verona hugged his sore body tight. "I really don't want you to find a tall, busty, silver-haired woman. How would I compete against something like that?"

Anton laughed and kissed her head. Verona chuckled but only slightly relinquished her hold. Kal, however, still looked unhappy.

"Do you know what else they do, Rasha?" Kal asked. Rasha frowned lightly, a quick glance at Anton, before shaking her head.

Kal took a deep breath and flexed her hands. "A few winters after I escaped from Danafra I arrived at the base of the mountains between Seocuria and the Deweth Clans. It wasn't too bad, except in winter. Lots of food and water, everything I needed to survive. Just got too cold for me. One day I decided to risk a raid on a slave convoy heading up into the mountains."

"That sounds...Incredibly risky."

"Those convoys are incredibly well guarded," Cetina added, earning a look from Rasha. "I...We were involved in it. Moving Beastkin from plantation to plantation, nothing more."

Rasha frowned at Anton.

"Not us. Or really Cetina for that matter. We'll explain later but please continue Kal. Why?"

"Most of my clothes were worse than rags and winter was coming. I needed to stay warm and I hadn't thought of skinning animals yet. So I find it, not that hard, and sneak up and manage to steal some spare clothes. They were pretty good too. But, as I was leaving, I overheard one of the guards talking about the Beastkin like they weren't going to work."

Kal took another deep breath and violently shook her hands. "They said that a Clansmen only becomes a man once he's killed someone. But they can't spend all their time fighting each other so..."

It makes some sense, not that any of them want to hear that coming from my mouth.

Anton groaned dramatically. "Just another reason we need to hurry and free the Beastkin from Seocuria. If they can't be bought then the Clansmen will have to look elsewhere. Or realise that the ability to sink an axe into another man's skull doesn't make you a man."

"True. True." Verona looked over the Training Fields. "Looks like everyone is heading home. Are we going to do that..."

"I think a bath is first on the list." Anton sniffed his sweaty clothes. "These definitely need to be washed too. I guess that we get a bucket and rinse them."

"Never really had the chance to have a bath." Rasha smiled as she imagined submerging herself in water. "How big is it anyway?"

"Well, I say bath but it's simpler than that," Anton explained. "A bucket of water and a rag to scrub yourself with. Oh, and a wall to keep out any unwanted intruders."

"That's not too bad." Rasha chuckled. "We're used to a Seocurian water mage using us as practice."

"Wow," Anton said flatly.

"Yeah. They create a big ball of water and throw it at us. Or something more powerful and then they think we’re clean."

"Everyone gets what they want," Anton added snidely.

"I don't remember that," Kal said. "Was that after I escaped?"

"Umm. Yes. It would have to be. Only after they moved everyone to the big slave houses did it really start. Before that we were scattered all over the city, so it was a lot more difficult."

"Well, we don't have any water mages here." Anton continued. "Now, there is only one bath house and it's not that big. We're going to go in together but do either of you have a problem with having a shower alongside other women? I won't send you to wash naked alongside the boys, obviously."

"I..." Cetina scratched her head. "I'm not really comfortable with that."

"Me neither." Rasha faintly nodded. "I'd prefer to go alone."

"Is it an issue with seeing humans or Beastkin naked? Or something else?"

"Not the first one," Cetina said. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Same," Rasha added. "But I don't think mine are the same reasons as Cetina."

I wonder what it is. Something on their bodies or are they just not comfortable being naked around other people? I shouldn't take that as an inherently wrong attitude.

"That's fine. But I can't guarantee you'll have long to yourself. There's a lot of people in Atros for such a small building. We need to think about making a much bigger, dedicated building for cleaning. And showers too. They'll save on time and water too."

"Any chance for one today?" Cetina asked.

"I could put a word in but I can't make any promises."

"Despite all this talk," Verona began, "If you really do feel dirty you can just get some water and a piece of cloth and to it in your own home. It doesn't really matter where you do it, it's just nice to have a whole building for it."

Both Cetina and Rasha nodded.

"Thanks for the match, Cetina. I'm sure you went easy on me but I enjoyed it. I think I learned a few things too."

"Thank you, Anton." Cetina bowed her head. "While I'm not a trainer I think you will do well given enough practice. And I'm sure the same could be said for Verona and Kal."

"I've only sparred against Sam before." Kal smiled and chuckled. "It'll be interesting to see if I can win two out of three this time. I'm a lot stronger than I was before."

"And to you too Rasha, just you being here means a lot to us. To my future plans."

"I didn't do anything really." Rasha was a little embarrassed by the praise. "I just let some of the Beastkin know what I was doing and they could come if they wanted too...Do you mean that Beastkin are allowed to train with humans?"

"Yes. It might seem small to you but it'll make a huge difference in the long run."

"If you say so, Anton. A lot of this stuff is beyond me. But if it helps this city then I'll do it."

"We need to go have that bath now." Verona pulled gently on Anton's arm. "And shave your beard. You need to look respectable for tonight."

Does she mean for dinner or what happens later?

Regardless of her intention, Kal agreed, nodding furiously as her eyes fell to his beard. Truth be told it was very scruffy and getting quite long. There were times it had become very itchy and irritable. It would be nice to feel his skin again.

"Okay. But Kal gets to use the blade."

"Yes."

"Why?" Verona asked. "I'm very good at controlling my blood shards. And if I do make a cut I can just keep the blood from leaking out until one of you can heal it."

"That's...An interesting application of your power, but not what I meant."

Verona huffed dramatically. "Fine then. But I want something from you then."

"Alright then.” Anton smiled. “I’ll make sure you get an extra serving tonight.”

“That’s not…You’re just messing with me now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Anton kissed her head. “I don’t know what you two want to do…”

“Actually.” Rasha turned to Cetina. “I’d like some more practice.” She slapped her large muscular arms. “I’m not that tired yet and, if I’m going to come along for the thing tomorrow, I’d like to know a bit more about how to fight.”

Rasha frowned at the wooden sword. “I might need something a bit bigger though.”

“Sure.” Cetina smiled. “It’ll give me practice against a larger opponent. Though against the Goblins that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Whatever you do don’t go too far. I can heal wounds but if one of you goes and cracks a skull and bleeds out before one of us can get there…”

“We’ll be safe.” Cetina nodded. “It’s just practice, after all.”

“Okay. Well, we’ll see you later.”

---[]---

Anton’s clothes, sticky from sweat, clung lightly to his skin as he peeled them free. It felt horrible. Repulsive to peel himself free. With his clothes free he placed them into a small basket made from reeds next to Verona’s and Kal’s. Verona wasn’t having as much trouble, as her clothes were enchanted to be cool, otherwise, she’d overheat with the wolf fur underlay, while Kal grimaced at the sticky sensation.

“Do you think we could put some enchantments on these so they stay cool?” Kal asked as she whipped her shirt off. Her ears were caught and popped free, a cute squeak emanating as she shook her head. “It would be so much easier.”

“I don’t see why not.” Anton touched the underlay of Verona’s black hide armour as she removed her pants and added them to the pile. “After we’ve dealt with the Goblins we’ll do that.”

Luna darted around their feet constantly looking for attention. Anton picked her up and placed her into a basket with Verona’s clothes. Almost immediately she settled into the soft wolf fur underlay and began to doze, more than content to enjoy sniffing up their scent.

“Oh, you silly little thing.” Anton teased.

“You mean putting on enchantments after fixing the portal?” Verona raised a brow. She removed her silver barrette and ruffled her hair, her body shaking alluringly as she did so.

“That too. It’s been a long time since we’ve washed these.” Anton sniffed at his clothes. “Can’t imagine what you’re going through Kal.”

“It’s not too bad.” Kal threw her pants into the pile and neatly placed her boots on the floor. “The Beast-kin smelled pretty awful to me…I think we all stink.”

Anton took a moment to admire their bodies, after everything they’d done together there was no hint of shyness around each other. Perhaps if someone else saw but that was for other reasons. Neither cared how their bodies bounced and swayed as they moved, Anton was all but certain they were exaggerating their movements for that very reason. It wasn’t like they weren’t well proportioned, especially in Verona’s case. The girls knew he was ogling them and slinked their arms around his, pushing it into their very warm and soft bodies, and led him into the Bathhouse.

The Bathhouse, such as it was, was empty except for them. Since they had last visited it had been expanded greatly. Once just a small burnt building refurbished into an open-roofed enclosed space, all the wood had been replaced and the walls shored up. Before there had been a few holes and gaps, necessitating female guards during the time's women were bathing. The open roof remained, something Anton enjoyed despite the noise of the hustle and bustle of city life seeping through, which gave it a very open and spacious feeling. Despite everything, he thought it was just a room with a few buckets of water and some simple wooden stools. Compared to the baths in Porswea it was decidedly rural, very much like the Inn in Soulthor.

Anton took a seat and the girls on either side. He dipped his hands into the water and recoiled. “It’s bloody freezing.”

“How bad?” Verona tapped a finger into the icy water. “Oh. Wow…Yeah, that’s not going to be fun.” She squeezed at her breasts. “They’d turn to stone if I washed myself with that.” She sniggered as she looked at Anton’s crotch. “And the opposite with that.”

“Verona…” Kal sighed as she readied her cloth. “I’ve had to take washes with cold water like this. It’s best to get it over with and dry off as quickly as possible.”

Anton snapped his fingers and smiled. “Or…We could try something else.”

Anton stood up and moved back to the front of the bathhouse where they stored their clothes. Verona and Kal glanced at one another, shrugged, and waited silently for Anton to return. He looked around and found what he was looking for in the heel of his boot.

“What are you doing?” Verona asked as she returned. “I know Cetina and Rasha would like to have a wash as well. Why do you think they don’t want to have a wash with everyone else?”

“Probably because you’d try and grope them,” Kal spoke flatly. “Cetina wasn’t happy when you tried to feel up her breasts.”

Verona laughed and swatted Kal with her cloth before Anton sat down between them, Kal made sure Anton’s body was a barrier between them. “I couldn’t imagine what you would do to Rasha.”

“They are gigantic.” Anton chuckled. He looked at Verona, who pushed her chest out in pride. “Seems smaller than the normal Minotaurs that we saw in Danafra.”

“I’ve never seen an Oni before.” Kal glanced down. “But I think they are…large, to say the least. But not that big.”

“I wonder…First I want to try something.”

“Which is?” Verona shuffled closer. “I’d like to stop feeling so dirty soon.”

“This.” Anton held up a small stone. “I thought something had been lodged in my boot all day, but it wasn’t really a problem.”

“Okay…” Kal looked at Verona, raising a questioning aqua brow. Verona shrugged and stared intently at the stone. “Oh. I think I know what you’re doing.”

“A Hot Stone.” Anton smiled. “Since we know that we can easily make a Cold Stone, why not do it here?”

“Hot water would be so good.” Verona stretched her legs, her red tattooed toes scrunched tight as she squeaked and let her legs relax. “I felt so relaxed after that bath. And then…”

“Your mind just can’t help itself.” Kal’s tail swished through the air as she smiled smugly.

Verona laughed “I know. But I wasn’t always this way. You can thank Anton for that.”

The girls laughed as Anton held up the small stone.

"I know how to make it into a hot stone, just not how effective it's going to be."

"Because it's so small?" Kal asked as she pulled her wooden stool closer. "The Cold Stone...That's back at our house, right?"

"Yeah."

"That was actually a stone, not just a little pebble."

"Exactly my point. I wonder if it's just going to struggle...Only one way to find out."

Anton spoke the prayer aloud. Some mana left him, he didn't have much after the training even after eating the two remaining Karak fruit. The girls held his side as he swayed a little but he didn't fall over. The stone in his hand quickly burned with heat. A satisfying splash followed.

They crowded around the small bucket and waited. After a few seconds, Verona lost her patience and dipped a finger. She laughed as she plunged her hand deeper into the water.

"No. It's no good." A cheeky smile crept up her face. "You two are just going to have to use the cold water. I'll take care of this."

"Yeah. Of course it is."

Anton dipped his own finger, just in case. For the first time in over a month, he had hot water, hot water to wash away the filth and grime. Even though he had grown accustomed to cold water and being unwashed for weeks at a time he still longed for a good bath.

"As the man here it's my job to suffer instead of you two. So I'll take it."

"Really?" Kal shook her head. "Looks like we're just going to have to stay this close and share."

"But there's really only enough for one person." Verona feigned a pout, raising a finger to her lips. She snapped her fingers and the devilish smile returned. "At a time. Oh well, I guess we do get to have some fun now."

Anton and Kal said nothing as Verona soaked her cloth. She hummed her wordless tune before raising Anton's arms and beginning to scrub vigorously. It felt very similar to the time they had last spent in the Bathhouse, before Kal's arrival. Before Anton could say anything another cloth was washed and his other arm raised. Kal kept her face flat, though her ears and tail elucidated her true feelings, and began to wash his other side.

"I'm sure so many people would be jealous of me right now." Anton chuckled. He tried to move his arms but received a harsh hiss from both girls. They weren't about to be interrupted.

The sound of water dripping off his body, stained with sweat and grime, was all that he could hear. Verona's tune was barely audible now. Strangely it felt a little awkward. When they had baths before they had always been talking, or were otherwise busy.

"Kal?" Anton began. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Kal pulled her chair closer so her fur covered knees touched his side. She lowered his arm and began cleaning his shoulder. "What do you want to know?"

"Before we brought up Rasha." Anton felt the cloth stop and a pair of cold eyes looking at him. Kal leant sideways and looked at his groin. Satisfied with the response, Verona simply laughed as she began washing his side, she gave a nod to continue. "Not like that. But she's meant to be a Minotaur Oni...cross breed."

"Yes? That's what I've been told."

"I'm just curious...Do you know what a straight Oni looks like?"

"Mother would know better than me." Kal stopped and rinsed her cloth. Anton didn't like the colour seeping out. "But I know there are meant to be two types. One blue and-"

"And one red?"

"Yes..."

"How did you know that?" Verona asked.

"It was just something that I first thought, back in Danafra in the Auction House. It's not a name I was expecting to hear for a blue giant with a horn."

"Red hair?" Verona asked.

"I don't know enough about it to say either way."

"But from the way you're talking..." Verona stopped and looked at him. "That's from your world. Earth or whatever it is."

"Maybe." Anton shrugged. "I really don't have anything to go on. But what a canine means here and there is basically the same, a dog. Same with felines, reptiles and turtles. Even the minotaurs."

"And the other Beastkin?" Kal continued cleaning but her heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Yeah. But it's just the best way for us to describe you. If someone saw Marion and had to describe her the word Feline would come up. I don't know if it's something from my world that's bled into this one."

"Beastkin have been enslaved for hundreds if not thousands of...years." Kal's brows furrowed. "But I don't know if we've always been called felines or whatever."

"It's not something a slaver would teach you," Anton said.

Kal grunted as she moved to his back.

"I suppose so." Verona gently scrubbed his chest. "It would be kind of weird if someone from your world helped shape the Beastkin. Or at least naming them."

"I suppose it would. Though it would be difficult to figure that out."

"I would have said impossible." Verona shrugged. "No one would remember a stranger from that long ago."

"But there might be records of them. No matter how faint. And there's something that I can do that no one else I know can."

"Use stupid amounts of magic?" Kal chuckled. "Wipe out thousands of enemies with a single wave of his hand?"

Anton laughed but a serious thought bubbled through his mind. "You say that like a joke, I couldn't do this on the other side, but it might be true. We are in the Shattered Kingdoms after all. Something had to unite them. And what better way than to build a massive kingdom than with stupid amounts of magic?"

"Kind of like what you're doing," Verona said proudly, Kal silently agreed. "Except you're freeing the Beastkin as well."

Verona mumbled something but refused to share.

"The United Kingdom probably liked Beastkin." Anton received an odd look from Kal. "If they weren't prevalent than the kingdoms and empires couldn't have purged or enslaved them."

"Hm..." Kal didn't know what to make of that piece of information.

"Who knows, maybe someone from my world made the Beastkin in the first place."

Verona chuckled, her eyes raking Kal's body. "I can see why."

"There's not going to be much left of those days," Kal said. "Paper..."

"It's a shame that The Academy in Porswea burned down and lost all of their scrolls and ancient texts." Verona moved to his legs. "They might have had the answer."

"I don't think Cetina would want to go back there anytime soon." Kal shuddered. "Thinking about Duran...All that blood. And he wasn't my father but I still feel ill thinking about it."

"Yeah. That...That part of the journey wasn't much fun." Anton didn't fail to notice her wince when she said father.

Does that mean our kids are only going to call me dad? That's not so bad, but not saying a word because of one arsehole is utter rubbish. But...We will deal with Rafik before nature does.

"I was thinking we talk to Cassius and see if we can get into the Academy in the capital. Apparently, that's even bigger and older."

"Oh. I'd bet they'd have great baths and beds there." Verona laughed. "And some really good clothes too."

"And books on magic too," Anton said. "Of the Principle magic and ours."

"But the Beastkin come first. Right?"

"Absolutely.” Anton didn't hesitate in his response. “There's no doubt about that. But once we've got a stream of them coming in we need to get other things as well. Especially if Graterious is about to erupt into a civil war. Get things done before it falls apart."

"Have you noticed that everything seems to be doing that?" Verona stopped just as she was reaching low on his waist. "Graterious and Bebbezzar are about to go up in flames. Seems that Seocuria's doing alright."

"Probably because they're so used to putting down slave rebellions," Anton said dryly. "Those Minotaurs in the Auction House...I think compared to them a few angry commoners would be nothing."

But there was those three we saw in Danafra. Scurrying away the moment they were caught looking even remotely disgusted by the Beastkin treatment. Then there are our Seocurian refugees. So it can't all be gone. But how would find such people? Surely they would keep their heads down after the purge-

A sudden jolt of pain interrupted his thoughts. Verona, a wicked smile on her face, was squeezing down hard onto his crotch.

“Do you mind?”

“I just wanted you to stop wandering.” Verona released her grip. “And that was the best way.”

“Did that hurt?” Kal asked gently, resting her hands on his shoulder.

“A bit.” Anton chuckled. “But it’ll go away soon.”

“Right…”

“There is a real possibility that there are Seocurians that disagree with the enslavement of Beast-kin. But finding them, without bringing down the whole empire on us, will be tough.”

“For now let’s just focus on freeing the slaves,” Verona said.

“It does have a good ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Verona laughed. “That it does. Now, how long were we allowed to have in here?” Verona pushed her body onto his. “We’ve got a little bit of time before we need to go. Right?”

Anton had already known, deep in his heart, that it was going to be extremely difficult to just have a simple bath with these two. And he still had to shave his beard…

---[]---

Fully refreshed and dried, their hair still slightly damp but annoyingly lightly greasy, Anton, Verona and Kal walked briskly through the streets of Atros to the south, Luna tucked tight in his crossed arms. Several tables were already being brought out in readiness for that night’s communal dinner, something that had become so large and ponderous that it was likely tonight was going to be the first and last for many people in Atros.

“The logistics alone are a nightmare,” Anton mumbled.

“What’s that?”

Verona clung tight to his left side. She had refused to do up her armour all the way, leaving the collar open. While most people wouldn’t know the difference Anton could quite easily see straight down. Though many women would benefit from it he was kind of happy this world didn’t have bras yet.

“The dinners.” Anton waved to the gathering furniture. “It’s just too much to do any more. Though there’s still some light we need to divert so many villagers to moving and setting things up.”

“There are a few Beast-kin,” Kal noted. “Good to see they aren’t being hated.”

She too clung to Anton’s side but she didn’t look like a child hanging off his arm. Unlike Verona she kept her clothes done up properly though her damp ears and tail were definitely alluring.

“Yeah. Quite a few are those that we saw mulling about when we went to see Eider. Looks like they decided to help.”

“Well of course,” Verona said proudly. “When there’s food involved people are always going to help.”

They chuckled as a new sound filled the air. It wasn’t the sounds of talking or feet, sometimes hooves, striking the stone streets. These were much higher pitched, always followed by grunts and shouts of exertion. The Lumber and Stone yard opened before them upon crossing the first inner gate. It took both sides of the street for some way just to accommodate the enormity of the work being carried out. Like last time they visited stonemasons hammered and chipped large grey stones to size while workers stripped bark off tree trunks and cut them straight.

I wonder how much wood we lose doing that? Most trees aren’t perfectly straight, even those in the Accursed Forest. Once we get that portal working properly it’ll be easy to get them here.

“Beast-kin everywhere,” Anton said.

He counted fifty Beast-kin in the yard. They weren’t exactly working, perhaps passing a tool when requested, but they were watching intently. And on the surface, the workers didn’t have any problem with them. They were almost entirely focused on their craft, so they might just be pushing them out of their minds, but it appeared a good start. It was only day one after all.

“Oh.” Verona pulled on his arm. “I see Zac.”

Zac stood outside a large building, silently overlooking the work undertaken by his workers. He had most of his attention set on the woodworkers. Wood was still the most used material in Atros, stone was mainly used for foundations and the city walls.

“Let’s find out how he makes his alcohol.” Anton began walking towards him. “I think it’ll sell really well. It’s very strong and has a good taste. Porswea seems like a good place to sell it on the cheap.”

“So long as we can find someone willing to sell it for us.” Verona released her grip slightly.

“There are always extortions,” Kal said. “Gangs interfere with business in nearly all of the cities in the Graterious Empire. The only thing that changes is who they pay, bandits or nobles.”

“I think it would be better to pay your taxes to the person that actually owned the land rather than some hooligans. What about Seocuria?”

“No...Strange.” Kal frowned, holding her finger to her lip. “I never saw anything like that.”

“I bet the deterrent is enough.” Anton began. “Surely every business owes an allegiance to someone, I haven’t heard anything about an Emperor or King of Seocuria…And anyone who goes against them would end up a slave.”

“I wonder if we can use that.” Verona trailed off as they reached the large building.

Zac smiled widely. “You three just look like you’ve had a bath.”

“We have,” Anton replied, the girls released their hold but remained close. “And since we still had some time before dinner…”

“I thought you three would have scurried off by now. Newlyweds and all that.”

Anton laughed. They had refrained from going too far in the bath.

“But I remember you talking about wanting to see how I make Fire Blaster Rum.”

“You’ve never called it that before.” Anton frowned lightly.

Zac shrugged. “You’ve never asked before. Only Jeff has, but he was pretty drunk at the time. That was a few days before the big Goblin attack, where you arrived. I think he was trying to get drunk for a few days straight.” Zac laughed. “Nearly did too. I did the same as well.”

“Fire Blaster sounds like a good name,” Anton said. “Someone in Graterious or Qaiviel would be willing to give it a go, so long as it’s cheap.”

“Money really isn’t that important to me.” Zac shrugged as he waved them around the side of the building and away from the stone and lumber yard. “Never needed it. Everything’s always been pooled together and then handed out. I…I always pull my weight though.”

“For now that’s not a problem. But, when we get to larger populations we’re going to need an actual economy. We can’t always just be going like we are right now.”

“Why not?” Zac frowned but kept walking. “Seems fine right now.”

“It does. And right now it’s keeping us together. But once we get larger it’ll be needed. While I know that you will always pull your weight we can’t always be sure everyone will. If people work for money, for a good wage, it’ll help weed that out.”

“And so just that fixes it?” Verona asked. “The people in Graterious didn’t look too happy. Especially those outside the walls.”

“I think they went too far the other way,” Anton replied. “But there is a balance point. However, someone will always be needing to watch over everything so they don’t just try and rip people off. And the other side of things too, businesses need to make money as well.”

“I went through a drought in Seocuria.” Kal began. “Water, at least in the east, became very expensive. All the water sources were seized by merchants, they had to pay whatever they asked. I managed to steal enough, and I found a small spring, but I saw lots of plantation and workshop owners having to sell their slaves just to get enough water to drink.”

“That would be profiteering. And something that we would need to watch out for.”

“This all sounds very complicated.” Zac rubbed his beard. “And dangerous. I don’t want to have to give away my stuff so I don’t die of thirst.”

“Despite what I’m saying I honestly have no idea how we would implement such a thing.” Anton sighed as he looked at the villagers behind in the lumber yard. “It would almost impossible to explain without revealing my lack of understanding of the systems. The people from Atros don’t really have an idea, those from Qaiviel would be glad to be rid of it since they were effectively slaves and out of the Qaiviel economy and the Beast-kin might know how the Seocurian’s operated but might revolt if we tried and implemented their system in any form. It’s not going to be easy any way we do it. The main problem I’m worried about is corruption and profiteering, which will ruin the whole thing…”

“I guess threats don’t work.” Verona sighed. “Because that’s the first thing you would have said.” Anton raised a brow. “You could just say that you’ll burn them and they’ll do the right thing. But a blade or a stick would do the same thing, and even we had sticks.”

“It sort of works, but they just get smarter about how to hide what they’re doing. How to eliminate it entirely…I have no idea.” Anton looked at his glyphed hand.

I don’t think Esperit or Stratos will be much help here. But…Maybe Tethra might be the key. After all, she can make just about anything happen. If I’ve got enough mana. Maybe she can compel someone to speak only the truth. That would stop any sort of corruption and profiteering in its tracks. But that sounds like it would cost a lot of mana.

Zac led them into the streets behind the lumber yard and stopped in front of two small houses. They looked completely unremarkable, except both had his name scratched into a wooden post outside.

“So…This is my place.” Zac laughed. “I know it’s not much compared to what everyone else has but its home. Though I don’t really do that much but sleep and keep my stuff inside.”

“We haven’t spent that much time in ours either,” Anton said. “So where to do you make your Fire Blaster Rum, or whatever you call it?”

“The one of the right.” Zac chuckled as he moved to the door. “I’m still surprised that no one’s asked me where I make it.”

“I did. When I first arrived here.”

“Did you?” Zac stopped as he opened the door, lost in deep thought. “Huh. I remember that you did. But so many people just ask how I make it. And that’s still going to be my secret.”

“Well, keeping a lid on supply will make it a valuable commodity.”

“Won’t that be just like what you said before?” Kal asked. “Profiteering?”

“Perhaps…If you look at it that way. But since it’s not vital, you don’t need to drink alcohol to survive, I don’t think it’s a problem. There are…nuances to it.”

Verona and Kal didn’t look entirely convinced but they went along with his words. Zac opened the door to reveal something that Anton didn’t think was possible in this world. Four small copper stills sat over a small but intense flame at the rear of the building. The wooden floor had been removed and replaced with stone, rather a hasty conversion than something more professional, and a latch above it to release the thin smoke. Coal burned at the heart of the flame but it produced far less smoke than the coal in the smithy, unnaturally so. At the heart lay a strange spider-like metal contraption. Anton had bought one just like it for Jonathan during their first visit to Maxill.

“Did you have one of those and didn’t give it to Jonathan?” Anton pointed at the device.

Zac raised a brow as he looked at the flame. “What? Oh, no. That’s the one that you bought. The smiths that you brought asked Raston to buy some more of…whatever those things are. And they forgot that they already had one so there was one left over. I asked if I could have it and Jonathan said yes. It’s really good, though I’ve got no idea how it works. Makes it burn hotter, or in this case needs less coal and has almost no smoke. It’s really good.”

The four stills had a small pipe coming out of the top. Each went into the next still until the last, that pipe led to a large wooden barrel. The only denoting feature on the barrel was a small wooden tap at the bottom.

“Is this all of it?” Verona asked.

“Yep.” Zac slapped the large barrel and leant against it. “Pretty much. I get the barrels from the north but everything else is made here.”

“How…How did you get this?” Kal stopped a meter from the stills. “Something like this is beyond what Atros was capable of even when I arrived. It looks like it’s made from copper too…I haven’t seen any of that in Atros.”

Zac scratched his head. “Well, they aren’t mine. They’re from my father, when he was young. And back then the Kar Kingdom was still a thing. Not sure where he said he got it from, he might have actually stolen it now that I think about it, he wasn’t exactly a wealthy man. And it’s been in my possession ever since.”

“It looks very good.” Anton inspected the still closely. “There are very few dents where the copper was hammered into shape. Every part of it is extremely well made. It’s quite a good piece of equipment.”

“I do my best to take care of it.”

“So what do you use as a base?”

“Mainly grains,” Zac replied. “That and some potatoes.”

“Sounds more like vodka than rum.”

“What’s vodka?” Verona asked.

“A strong spirit. But I’m sure rum was made from sugar.”

“We’ve got some sweet fruits.” Zac offered. “If that’s what you mean.”

“Yeah…But usually, it’s made from just the sugar and not the whole fruit. I don’t know what that would be called. Anyway, how much can you make each day?”

“Quite a bit.” Zac thumped the barrel. It sounded quite full.

“If it’s possible I’d like to increase production and start selling this. But I don’t think Jonathan’s going to be able to help with this. Not to mention that we don’t have any copper with us. Cassius’s map had mines on it, but not what they are. Perhaps we’ll just buy some.”

“So long as it doesn’t interfere with having stuff to drink then it doesn’t worry me. Besides, it’ll be good to give something that could help people. More of those Beast-kin that you’ve got running about.”

“I couldn’t help but see them wandering about the Lumber and Stone yards,” Anton said. Kal turned her attention to Zac while Verona peered at the stills, wary of the small but hot fire underneath.

“They turned up a little while ago. I didn’t have the heart to send them away but they didn’t want to leave either. Next thing I know they’re asking if they can help. And…They’ve been doing alright.”

“More like junior apprentices,” Verona mumbled as she poked at a still. Thankful it was well secured to the floor so it wouldn’t fall over by a simple touch, Anton wasn’t sure if Zac was a delicate man with his hands.

“Perhaps. But my men don’t seem to worry about them. A few of the Beast-kin talk like they know a bit about what we’re doing.”

“Many would have done something similar in Seocuria,” Kal added quietly. “Just don’t force them to work, otherwise it might not end well.”

Zac nodded once. “I won’t ask them to do something I wouldn’t. But I’m not going to coddle them. I don’t have the time or the energy, and I’m sure Anton would say that’s not the point of freeing them.”

“I want them to be able to stand on their own two…That’s not quite right. But codling the Beast-kin will do them no good in the long run. It’ll teach them dependence rather than independence. Something I don’t want to see. Not to mention the smarter amongst them will realise they are still slaves, just with less obvious shackles.”

“That sounds…” Zac scrunched his eyes. “Just like you said before, we’ll treat them just like everyone else.”

“Thanks. Do you have enough of this stuff to go around tonight?”

“Sure. It’s been working pretty much all the time.”

“You’ll definitely want to water it down.” Kal chuckled. “I don’t think any of them have drunk alcohol before. If they drink this like water…well.”

“I can do that.” Zac clapped his hands. “But you’ve seen everything that I have to make my alcohol. Nothing too fancy. But I need to get back to work. Otherwise, I’ll find they’re just slacking off when they’ve still got stuff to do. We’re a bit behind thanks to the Goblin assault.”

“Don’t go too hard on them.”

“Ha!” Zac slapped him on the back. “Don’t you worry about it. Now, unless you three want to help us with cutting stone or carving lumber there’s not a lot you can do.”

“Would one of those fire enchanted chisels and hammers be a good idea?” Verona asked Anton.

Zac threw up a brow.

“Yeah. I think it will be good. We’ll tell Shawn over dinner.” Anton said as Zac closed the door. “We’ll see you then.”

---[]---

Anton couldn’t help but feel nervous as he sat at the council table awaiting dinner. All things considered, things were moving quite well but the nervous tickle at the back of his head refused to go away. Perhaps it was a good sign, that he wasn’t being ridiculous and thinking everything would just go well because he hoped it would. The other members of the council, and their significant others sat with them while Cetina and the Beast-kin girls sat at a nearby table with Loretta and her children. Anton had yet to inquire how that was going, something best not done at the first dinner of the new Atros, but it didn’t appear bad. They shared the occasional knowing glance but that was all. In public at least.

Verona, with Luna resting on her lap, sniffed expectantly at the air as trails of smells wafted through the air. Atros didn’t have a dedicated kitchen or mess hall yet, something that Anton would need to address to keep these important events going. Instead, they had numerous open fire pits, dozens of roasting Razor Pigs and large metal pots filled with vegetables. Near those, large tables accommodated villagers preparing the fruits and bread to be served. A small buzzing swarm of villagers carrying plates and mugs filled with Zac’s Fire Blaster Rum. Thankfully he had been true to his words and had the alcohol watered down. Anton remembered the original taste, liquid fire running down his throat, and knew that those that were still new to drinking would keel over with a single mug.

Very quickly the servers brought large plates to their table. Cooked meat, piles of vegetables and fruits almost flowed off the plates, alongside a large mug of water. Verona questioned if it was alcohol but it was simply water. She, Kal and Sam looked very relieved. Marion had a significant portion of meat while Kristof’s was entirely filled with fruits and vegetables. Anton checked the nearby table. Rasha’s plate was the same, perhaps a little more full, while the other girls had a normal palette.

“Do you want to say something before we start?” Verona leant close to Anton. He saw that her plate had an extra serving of meat.

“Yeah.” Anton stepped upon his chair. “We need to tell everyone about the Goblin suppression tomorrow.”

Jeff signalled to a nearby guard who bashed a sword on his shield. Those trained amongst the crowd stopped at the sound, the rest saw their reaction and quickly quietened down. Their attention fell on Anton. Once again Anton felt more than a little nervous to have almost three thousand people watching him.

“Everyone! I hope that you are well. And the Beast-kin and Seocurian arrivals, I hope that you are doing well too. I know that it might have been difficult to simply rest after such a long journey and a monumental change in your lives. Tomorrow you will start work alongside us, I’ve seen some of you investigating what work will entail and I appreciate your enthusiasm. Now, tomorrow we will be also be dealing with the latest Goblin threat that continues to be a menace to Atros. Anyone, regardless of skill, that wishes to join us to help make Atros a safe and secure city are to gather here at dawn. We will give you weapons and armour to keep you safe.”

Anton stopped to survey the audience. It was somewhat difficult to make out but many appeared hesitant. Not that he blamed them. Most had never fought and it was very easy to convince oneself that they were safe behind a large stone wall. Still, some looked eager, people like Cetina, Irso and Rasha. Eider and Ulyaa were far more hesitant.

“Regardless if you decide to join us or not, I encourage all of you to undertake some weapon training. We need everyone to be, at least, capable of defending themselves should the worst happen. There will be times that some of us will not be here and we’ll need every ounce of muscle to fend off the threats that plague this city. Nevertheless, feast, eat until your stomachs are sore and enjoy yourselves!”

A cry rang throughout the crowds. The Atros villagers and the Seocurians began to eat with a ravenous hunger. Most of the Beast-kin looked nervously at the food before them. Never in their lives would they have seen so much. Did they think it was some trick or were the memories of their past lives still holding them back?

“Start eating,” Anton whispered to himself as he sat down.

“What’s happening?” Verona asked, a hunk of meat in her mouth.

“The Beast-kin are still too frightened to eat.” Anton looked at the neighbouring table and sighed. “At least, some of them are.”

Kal’s friends held no such reservations and were gladly stuffing their faces with food. Cetina, eating normally, could only look on in shock as the food slipped free from her fork.

I can’t say anything to get them to eat. Maybe I’ll have to do something like with revealing Kal to the people from Qaiviel? But I don’t know enough Beast-kin that the others would consider neutral. They know Marion’s…

Anton spied a few Atros villagers sitting at a long table with Beast-kin asking why they weren’t eating. The Beast-kin didn’t have a real response. The villagers laughed and encouraged them to eat. Slowly they began to eat, infinitely more subdued than the human villagers, but it soon spread. After a few tense minutes, everyone was eating and laughing together.

Anton turned his attention back to their table. A very pleasant evening followed. One filled with mundane stories, drinks, laughter and dreams of what the future might hold. Slowly the people began to tire and retreat back to their homes.

“What time is it?” Anton looked up at the star covered sky. “We don’t have a moon here, but a clock would be nice.”

“Being able to know the time would be nice.” Verona picked at the pieces of food left over from Anton’s and Kal’s plates. “Could Tethra’s power make something like that?”

“Sure…” Anton looked to the Main Hall. “I think that placing it up there would be good. Maybe build a big tower and have them on all four sides. That way everyone will know the exact time. It’ll help with organisation-”

“Anton.” Kal pulled on Anton’s sleeve. “We’ve got a bit of a problem back there.”

Kal pointed to the next table. The Beast-kin girls were still there, perhaps a little tired, but were trying to wrangle a very drunk Cetina. Her visible eye was quite red, her movements slowed and she had difficulty sitting upright. Rasha kept her upright but even she appeared to be having some trouble.

“I think it’s time they went to bed.”

Anton sighed as he looked back at their table. Only a few people remained. Thankfully Marion and Kristof were still there. They were busy flirting with each other, something Kal was taking great pains to avoid, and looked ready to go.

“Marion? Kristof?” Anton said as he stood up. “Would you be willing to take them back to their homes? They look pretty drunk and a drunk woman shouldn’t be left alone.”

A loud thump came from behind. Eider’s head slammed into the table, her hood loose and limp handing along her neck as she struggled to pull sit upright. Her mug was empty but it had been refilled many times during the night. Ulyaa and Irso looked very bad, Ulyaa’s spider legs were limp and splayed out while Irso looked on the verge of being sick. Rasha was fine. Not surprising considering how big she was.

“Sure. It’s about time we did as well.” Marion pulled Kristof up.

Anton patted Verona and Kal’s shoulders. Luna had been content to sit on Verona’s lap, receiving pats and milk from a small cup. Cetina and the Beast-kin girls saw them approach.

“Hey, Anton.” Cetina’s speech was slurred, just as bad as the way her body swayed about. “Do you have any more of this…this stuff?”

“Yes. But I don’t think you need any more. I don’t think you can even walk straight right now.”

Cetina pouted at his words. “I’m fine.” She tried to drink from her empty mug.

“You’re not fine.” Rasha pushed her back to the table.

“Shut up.” Cetina dropped the mug, pointing a finger at Rasha’s chest. “You and those damn monstrous bloody bouncy things. They’re stupid! That’s why you’re trying to-”

Cetina’s hand gave way she slumped to the table like Eider. Anton gently patted her shoulder as Rasha flushed and looked down at her chest.

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton patted Cetina’s back again. “She’s just drunk. A lot better than the last time too.”

“I’m fine!” Cetina didn’t raise her head.

“You’re a terrible drunk.” Anton didn’t want to attract the ire of the others, especially a Drakeling that looked like she could be sick at any moment. “Now, time for all of you to go to bed.”

“Are we done?” Ulyaa asked softly.

“Yeah.” Verona smiled. “Especially if you want to join us on the hunt tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll go.” Ulyaa suppressed a burp. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll see what Eider has to say.”

Eider grumbled as she tried to raise her head.

“All of you…” Kal shook her head. “Are all terrible drunks.”

“I don’t understand why people do it.” Irso scrunched her eyes tight, breathing slowly to steady herself.

Kal rested her hand on Irso’s shoulder. Her body relaxed as her breathing calmed.

“Thanks, Kal.” Irso patted Kal’s hand. “I was about to be sick.”

“Come on.” Anton gently shook Eider’s back. “Time for all of you to go to bed. If you want to come with us tomorrow you need your rest.”

Eider grumbled but rose. Her green snake eyes were hazy and the normal slit irises were almost circles, she had so little control over her body. Anton chanted a healing prayer, just enough to take the edge off. Eider’s eyes focused as she smiled.

“Thanks, Anton. I don’t think I would have made it back without you.”

“I think that Rasha would have just carried you.” Anton smiled at the blue Minotaur. “She could carry you underneath her arm easily.”

Rasha was still focused on where Cetina had pointed.

“Let’s go everyone.” Marion clapped lightly, Ulyaa and Eider groaned. “None of that. We need to get to bed.”

Slowly the Beast-kin girls rose up and followed Marion and Kristof. They gave Anton a wave as their drunk and slightly swaying forms retreated into the distance. Anton turned back to Cetina, still resting her head on the table.

“You too.” Anton patted her shoulder.

“…Fine.” Cetina jolted up, started to fall back before Anton held her back upright. “I’m fine.” Cetina chuckled. “At least I’m not riding more horse.”

“By what you just said I think right now you’re not even good enough to walk in a straight line.” Verona chuckled.

Cetina laughed, swatting at the air in front of Verona. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Anton, Verona and Kal gave a final wave to the few people remaining at the council table before making their way towards their homes. Anton cast a prayer on Cetina to remove the worst effects of the drink. The three found it very funny to watch Cetina walk-in staggered lines towards her home. They did make sure that she made it in one piece. She stumbled onto the front veranda of her new home.

“Don’t forget to make sure your door is properly secured,” Anton said as Cetina staggered inside.

Cetina rested her back against the door frame and smiled at them. “I make a shitty bodyguard, don’t I? A bodyguard shouldn’t get drunk and find that they can barely stand?”

“Tonight is a celebration.” Anton smiled. “Don’t worry about tonight. Have some rest and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Right…Good night Verona, Kal, Anton. Thanks for...Well, everything. I’ll see you guys in the morning then.”

“Don’t forget to pull the furniture against the door,” Kal said as Cetina moved inside. “Just in case…”

“Right.” Cetina gave a final nod. “I’ll be up, bright and early for tomorrow.”

The wooden door closed, followed by the sound of scraping furniture.

Verona chuckled when the noise stopped. “Brings back memories about you, Kal.”

“I must say that I was very concerned the first few nights I slept here. That I would be attacked, and not the way that most women have to worry about.”

“No…” Anton kissed her head. “Hopefully no one does.”

“And if it does?” Verona asked softly.

Anton shrugged. “Then we’ll find the culprit and serve out the punishment. Whatever that is for something like that. I think it would be death…Sounds about right.” The girls went silent. “But enough about that. We’ve got something more important to deal with.”

Anton grabbed them around the waist and pulled them tight. Before he could slink his hands underneath their clothes Verona patted his chest.

“Hold up. We’ve got to get Luna to her bed first.”

Luna was sound asleep in Verona’s arms. Anton agreed but kept his hold on them tight. They opened the door to find their house dark and silent. Just like they left it. Verona left his side and trotted to the door leading to the garden. Lying on the floor was Luna’s bed, essentially a bundle of thick and comfortable cloth. Verona gently laid her down and gave her a quick pat.

“Now.” Verona brushed her pants. “Wha-”

Anton wasn’t going to wait any longer. He wrapped an arm around Verona and pulled her off the ground and into a deep kiss. Verona struggled for a moment before returning it, trying to remove her clothes. Kal grumbled angrily for being left out. Anton moved from Verona to Kal, now it was the Beast-kin’s turn to melt into him. Two sets of hands reached for her clothes and began to tear them loose while he pulled them both to their bedroom. It was a very long night, a very arduous one, but yet another one he would never forget.

Chapter 116 - Vol 4 - Porous

Chapter 116:

Anton awoke to the early morning rays peeking through the wooden slat window above his bed. It had been some time since he had slept in a bed, with some actual privacy to boot. His body wasn’t sore from sleeping on the hard ground, with a relatively thin rucksack to protect him from the elements, rather from the long and arduous night before. Verona and Kal slept soundly in his arms, totally exhausted from the night before. It had been their first night together as a married…not exactly a couple, but whatever they were now. And none had stopped until they simply collapsed into a gasping and panting mess.

“What a night.” Anton chuckled.

Kal, still asleep, lazily scratched his chest with her Beast-kin clawed hands. His back was probably a mess from last night and not all of it was from Kal. Normally Kal would be splayed over his chest but this time she was curled neatly up like Verona. Had something changed within her? Not that he cared, while her fur was very soft he didn’t miss having a clawed finger trying to invade his nose every morning.

He lay in silence, feeling their warmth flow through his body. While he wanted to enjoy it forever it simply wasn’t possible. Time wouldn’t wait for them, and they had commitments at dawn. If anything they were probably already a bit late.

“Hey.” Anton squeezed their rears gently. “Hey, wake up.” Anton squeezed harder. “My beautiful wives. We need to get up.”

Both girls slowly roused from their slumber. They squeaked and groaned, gently stretching their bodies. Anton let his hands drop away and admire their naked and unblemished forms. Verona’s white skin, contrasting with the many red glyph tattoos that ran over her toned body, were an instant eye-catcher. So to were the voluminous mounds that stuck out from her chest and the soft curves that adorned her hips and rear. She remained on her back as she flopped onto her stomach and pushed her chest out. With a final squeak, she flopped around and landed her face on his arm. Kal’s mocha tanned body was equally alluring, especially the way the tiny beads of sweat shone against it, as she pushed her rear up and chest out to stretch her tired and sore body. Her tail rose into the air while her ears flicked back and forth, the claws on her hands and feet gripped hard onto the sheets. She too moved over Anton’s body before relaxing onto him. It was their normal morning routine, at least when they were alone.

“Morning,” Verona mumbled, her face still on his arm. She laughed as she pulled herself up so her cheek touched his. “Weren’t you an eager man last night?”

“I was.” Anton kissed her deeply as a set of annoyed claws dragged across his chest. “Who wouldn’t be when they have the both of you to bed every night?”

Verona chuckled and gently caressed his face. “Even if it’s only for a few nights I want to enjoy these times. Once we’re on the road again it’ll be back to sneaking our little trysts during the night.”

“That was annoying.” Anton reached out and pulled Kal close to his other side. “For almost a month that’s all we could do.”

“I pretty sure they knew what we were up to.” Kal directed her tail to his chest while a Beast-kin foot teased his own. “It would be difficult for them not to.”

“Someone here can make a bit of noise.”

“You just need to kiss me then.” Verona stuck out her tongue. “Easiest way to keep me quiet. I don’t make those sounds by my own choice.”

“You kind of do.” Kal teased. Verona lightly swatted her hand but they both quickly broke into a smile.

Anton reached around and gently held their waists. “What a night. I’ve been thinking about something.” He moved his hands to their flat and toned stomachs. “Have you given any thought to a name?”

“Not…” Kal’s green eyes flicked to Verona. “I think it’s a bit early to be worrying about names.”

“But have you?”

“Yeah.” Kal tried to hide her embarrassment by pulling the fur covers over her head but Anton didn’t allow her. “For a while now.”

“Are you going to tell us?”

“It’s a secret,” Kal mumbled. “I want to know if it’s a boy or a girl first. Then I’ll tell you what I’ve thought of.”

“I’m keeping the names a secret too.” Verona moved his hand up to her breasts.

Anton gave a hard squeeze. “I can’t imagine those getting any bigger.”

Verona laughed. “Maybe I’ll go back to being the biggest in Atros again. I’ve got a lot of competition right now. Now I’m what…fourth or fifth now?”

“Do you really care about that?” Kal asked, raising an aqua brow.

Verona hesitated. “Not really, I suppose. I’m only showing them to a very special few. It’s just really annoying seeing your mother, Rasha and Loretta bouncing around all the time.”

“Really?” Anton kissed Verona gently.

“I know both of you look.” Verona thumped his chest before playing with Kal’s tail. “Everyone looks, it’s kind of hard not to see it.”

No one said anything and they simply lay in silence. Kal nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, within a few seconds their limbs weakened and were already drifting off back to sleep.

“Come on.” Anton slapped their thighs, a sharp echo ringing throughout their bedroom, followed by an alluring purr emanating from his two women. “We need to get ready.”

“Where did we even drop our clothes?” Verona asked as she rose from the bed.

“Most of them are still in the corridor.” Kal didn’t rise without giving Anton another deep kiss.

Anton chuckled as he stroked behind her ears. “We weren’t exactly worried about where they were landing.”

“You mean, you weren’t worried.” Kal kissed him again as they both hopped out of bed. “You were the one that couldn’t wait to get into even our bedroom before you attacked us.”

Verona sighed as she looked along the floor, raising her arms in exasperation before letting them drop against her side. “I can’t believe everything’s still outside. Do you think that Luna could have taken some to sleep on?”

“I…Well, it’ll be full of our scent.” Anton approached the door, Verona was shadowed by his size. She giggled and patted his stomach.

“This brings back some memories.” Verona opened the door.

All of their clothes were waiting just outside, a tangled pile just tossed randomly over the floor. Verona leant down and began sorting through the pile, Anton and Kal had a generous view of her rear. Kal playfully pinched his side as she shook her head. Verona started tossing their clothes back at them.

“Is Luna outside?” Anton asked as he finished putting on his shirt.

“She might still be asleep.” Verona kept her collar open. “Though I don’t know how.”

“I’m glad we’re still not in the Main Hall.” Anton chuckled as he helped Kal with her armour. “Otherwise Bertram and Sybil wouldn’t get any sleep.”

“They’ll definitely have said something.” Verona gently trotted towards the door to the garden.

“I think the only reason they were quiet our first night was that it could have very well been our last.” Anton held Kal’s shoulder tight. “If those eight thousand Goblins attacked now we’d probably be fine, so long as we three are here. It was really touch and go that time. And it wouldn’t have worked if Verona didn’t leap into the fray.”

“Touch and go?” Kal cocked her head. Anton saw her tail sway freely behind her, a small gap had opened between her armour to allow it freedom. She flushed as he stared at her rear. “Stop that.”

“Why?” Anton cupped her pert rump. Kal jumped. “You’re one of my wives. I can stare and fondle your butt whenever I want.”

Kal rolled her eyes but didn’t object.

“Are you two done?” Verona said back. She had stopped halfway to the door and watched them in silence. “If you two are going to flirt I’m going to force us all back into that bedroom so we can work it out.”

She was trying her best to appear annoyed but it was clear she was anything but. If they didn’t have to go and deal with the Goblins she would have pushed them back into his bedroom only to emerge sometime in the afternoon, definitely after having another wash.

“Is Luna there?” Anton asked, wrapping an arm around Verona as he reached her.

“She’s outside.” Verona spun around in his grasp. “I left a crack in the door so she could get out. I think she prefers the outdoors over being inside.”

“We might want to get some sort of flap installed into the door.” Anton reached the garden and looked out. “That way she can get out of the rain and enjoy the outside while we keep the place locked up. Especially if she needs to go to the toilet.”

Outside, hidden in the dawn light covered grassy garden, Luna sat in the middle of a large clump of weeds and grass. While it was easy to see her, thanks to her white coat, he thanked she wasn’t camoflauged.

“Do we wake her?” Verona asked.

“Probably.” Anton stepped onto the grass. Instantly Luna’s ears pricked up and her head darted towards them. She ran towards him and leapt into his arms. “She can’t stay here when we’re going into battle. Not to mention that she needs breakfast and lunch. We probably won’t be back until late.”

Verona laughed. “Oh well. Once we’re back then it’s straight back to bed for us.”

Anton ruffled her hair.

“What about your new weapon?” Kal asked Verona. Kal already had her bow and idly checked the string. “You were talking about changing it the other day with Cetina.”

Verona scratched her head. “Not this time. Cetina’s probably right, I’ll need training in it first. Otherwise, I’ll just be swinging it about wildly. Like a child swatting at flies.”

Anton smiled at the mental image. He waved it aside as Verona turned to him. “I think it’ll be just best if you stick to your spear, for now. I don’t think a Goblin’s going to go for you because he thinks you might be rich. Though I think that they’re going to be put off by the hundreds of blood shards flying about.”

“Ha! That they will. I’ll get some blood just before we start fighting. I wonder if there’s a way to keep the blood for longer?” She looked at Anton, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Well, the reason the blood goes off is that it rots.” Anton began. “It degrades. Very quickly too, when it’s at ambient temperature. Or at least fast enough so that you can’t use it. And we have the way to deal with that. But first, we need to deal with this little lump here.”

“Who do we give her to?” Kal asked.

“I was thinking Shawn and Jocelyn again, since they already know how to treat her and she’s comfortable with them. Maybe Marion if that fails. So long as she gets some milk and some pats I don’t think she’s going to have a problem.” Anton scratched Luna’s head. “Are you?”

Luna sneezed and happily beat her wings. She was still too young to fly but it was cute to see her try.

---[]---

With a final check over their weapons and armour, they stepped outside and into the street outside. It was all but deserted, a few armoured guards patrolled some distance away alongside a few early risers, still yawning and trying to dispel the drowsiness afflicting their minds. As he watched and waited he saw and heard more movement with the buildings.

“Everyone’s always an early riser here,” Anton mumbled to himself, stretching out his arms. “Not that you’ve got much of a choice.”

“Your…” Kal glanced along the street and found no one within earshot. “Your world sounds really strange where people can get up in the dark, go to work and live without seeing any light, and then sleep through the day. That’s what criminals do in the larger cities.”

“Breaking into a place might be easier during the night.” Anton frowned lightly. “Or maybe not. That’s when everyone’s asleep in their homes. Perhaps for warehouses and businesses.”

“That was the easiest time for me.” Kal turned and peered towards the central plaza. “Homes were during the day and businesses during the night.”

“We need to work on that for our home as well.” Verona ensured the door was shut. “I wonder if there’s magic for that.”

Verona looked at Anton and Kal once again with an expectant look. She continued to feel that Tethra’s power could do anything. It probably could, so long as a massive amount of mana was applied.

“When we get back.” Anton kissed her head. “After we’ve got the portal working properly we’ll see if we’ve got any mana left over for it.”

“Great.” Verona turned to the central plaza and started walking. “I don’t want someone walking in on us when we’re asleep. By the way-”

“Hold up.” Anton grabbed her shoulder hard. Verona’s legs continued forward, her body almost fell backwards before jumping back into Anton. She didn’t miss the opportunity to get close to him, not that he minded. “We should probably check on Cetina. She was pretty hammered from last night.”

“Hammered?” Kal raised a brow, so too did Verona.

Anton sighed. “Tonight I’ll have to teach you two more about some of the phrases that I use without thinking. It’ll help you make sense of some of my ramblings.”

“I don’t know about that.” Verona skipped across the deserted street to Cetina’s new home. “I don’t think we’re going to be good for much teaching tonight. At least not…”

She trailed off, a wild smile on her face as she tried to hide the tiniest flush creeping up her face.

“You should do it, Anton.” Verona bowed out of the way. She didn’t give a reason but Kal appeared to agree.

Anton shrugged and knocked on the door. “Cetina? Are you still in there?”

He pushed on the door. It didn’t feel like there was anything blocking it. While it would be improper to peek on someone sleeping or getting dressed they needed to know. Besides, Cetina was going to be an important piece in showing that everyone was welcome in Atros, being the only Bebbezzarian present. A quick peek inside revealed an empty room, the furniture pushed to the side with the single bed freshly made. Anton didn’t know whether or not Cetina was messy, like his women were, but apparently not. Her training would not allow her to turn slovenly. At least not in the short term. Her time with the sword, the cuts and scars and covered her face and presumably her body, were reminders of better times. Though how losing a part of one’s nose could be considered good was beyond him. Anton glanced down at his missing finger. That still hadn’t returned, and for some reason, he hadn’t healed it back. It had been over a decade since he’d lost it and he was just fine without it.

“She’s gone.” Anton peered in further. “And it doesn’t look to be in a bad way either. She’s probably waiting with the others.”

Anton took the arms of Verona and Kal, pulling them close. They walked in silence, except for Luna’s occasional squeaks from Verona’s arms, until they reached the Central Plaza. Anton had expected there to be a few takers but not this few. Perhaps having them drink and expect to turn up in the morning was a bad idea. Still, he saw about thirty Seocurians and the same again of Beast-kin, with one hundred and fifty Atros villagers, giving the expedition a total of two hundred and ten people, roughly. One Beast-kin was particularly large and stood above the rest, a blue Minotaur. Around her he recognised three other Beast-kin. And a Bebbezzarian.

“And I thought that they might not make it,” Anton said aloud.

“Oh. Yeah.” Verona chuckled as they approached. “I thought they’d still be too drunk to move.”

“I think Marion might have had something to do with it,” Kal smirked. “I don’t remember all that much but I know my mother can be pretty stern when it comes to fulfilling promises…I wonder why that is?”

“I guess that in a slave society a slave can’t exactly pay someone,” Anton replied. “Not it coin, anyway. Only in favours. And if someone breaks that then everything could start to fall apart; you couldn’t trust anyone and it’ll only turn you more against each other than against the slavers.”

Kal slowly nodded. “That makes sense. No money. Only trust.” She laughed. “Kind of like Atros, isn’t it?”

“It kind of is.” Anton kissed her forehead.

Jeff stood in front of the gathered guards, arranging the newcomers into lines with the villagers. He appeared to be having trouble with the Beast-kin. Many were larger than a human and their shapes varied wildly.

“Has everyone got a weapon and a shield?” Jeff loudly asked those gathered. Many raised their hands, devoid of everything. Jeff sighed. When he saw them approach his face lightened. “Thought you three wouldn’t be coming. Well, that’s a lie. But I kind of wish you came a little bit later. We’re having a bit of trouble getting everything ready.”

“People still fighting off last night’s feast and drinks?” Anton asked.

Jeff smiled bitterly and nodded. “Yeah. Basically. Quite a few of the men I rely on decided to keep drinking long into the night.” He pointed to three standing some distance away. They used each other for support as they swayed on their feet. “They were supposed to get everything ready but they can barely stand. They’ve already been sick twice.”

“They won’t be doing that in the future then,” Anton said. “Moderation is key.”

“Oh, they’ll learn it alright.” Jeff snarled at the three. “Once they’ve run a few laps of Atros, even with their head screaming in pain from last night.”

That might be a little harsh for being drunk. Then again this is a military matter and any failure could mean death. Especially if the soldiers aren’t properly equipped because they’re too sick.

Avery, wearing light armour with a large bow attached to his back, approached with a flat face. Anton tried his best to judge if he truly thought ill of the Beast-kin or not. It was hard to tell but he was taking great pains to not look at them.

I can’t expect them to just accept the Beast-kin the moment they see them. They’ve had all their lives being told they’re terrible creatures, the man that wanted to shoot Kal was evidence enough of that. And some of them do look a little odd.

“We’re ready,” Avery said calmly as he stopped a few meters away. “I’m only bringing ten of my archers but that should be enough. Especially with our mages here.”’

“Should be.” Jeff pursed his lips and shook his head as several guards arrived pulling a large cart filled with weapons and shields. “Now we just need to give these out and we should be ready to go.”

“And supplies?” Anton asked. “It’s not a small journey.”

“We’ve got that covered.” Jeff pointed to the rear of the group of guards. Two Ix drawn carts waited there, filled with barrels of water and boxes of food.

“Excellent. I think that’ll be more than enough. We should be back before nightfall, right?”

“Should be,” Jeff replied.

“Did you expect this many?” Anton asked. Verona and Kal nodded to his question.

“Honestly,” Jeff scratched his head. “I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a few more, but I also thought that there might not be any turning up. Telling someone we’re going to fight those nasty little bastards, on their first day here, is a bit much to ask.”

“Yeah. But it needs to be done. And doing it this way should, I hope, help in the long run.”

“I hope so too,” Avery added, again his voice flat.

Jeff pointed to the weapons cart. “I’ll see about getting these distributed and then we’ll be on our way. Avery, make sure you’ve got enough arrows and whatnot, I don’t think your archers are going to be much use if they run out.”

“Could you get a big bundle for Kal too? Her quiver is looking a little empty.”

Kal ran her hand through the few arrows in her quiver. The few rattled about loudly. Avery gave a curt nod and left. Jeff began shouting at those pulling the cart for being late. The guards looked more afraid of Jeff than they had been of the Goblins, even at the worst times in Atros’s history.

Anton leant close to the two girls. “We should check that Eider and Ulyaa aren’t being forced into this. Just in case.” Verona threw up a silver brow. “It might be difficult for a former slave to refuse an order, especially if it’s said with some authority.”

“Yeah…” Kal scratched her ear.

As they approached the girls Cetina was the first to notice. "Good morning, Anton." Cetina bowed her head. A slight frown graced her face. "Was...Was I supposed to wait for you this morning? I didn't want to wake you or stand around if you had already gone."

"It's fine, Cetina. We'll work something out in the mornings. Today is a bit of an...odd day."

"What are you talking about?" Rasha asked. Even though she was a pace further away she still appeared to loom over everyone. Many glances were thrown her way but she didn't let it show.

"Anton asked if I wanted to be a bodyguard and I said...Yes."

Rasha slowly nodded, her eyes flicked to Anton then to the ground. She rubbed her chin but said nothing.

"I'm surprised that you all made it." Verona laughed, running a hand through her silver hair. "After you were last night?"

And that's after I said nothing for you, Cetina. I guess all the servers weren't told and you got lucky. But you didn't appear to be using it to drown your sorrows.

"And the rest of you as well." Kal smiled lightly. "You were all pretty drunk."

"Rasha had to carry two of these drunk fools back." Irso's voice crackled like normal. "They wouldn't have made it back otherwise. I'm strong enough to carry Irso but not Ulyaa." The Arachnid and Cobra looked slightly embarrassed, Ulyaa's legs shifted and Eider picked at the edge of her hood. "Unlike the slab of muscle here."

"Don't you have something better to call me?" Rasha's lips curled up in the faintest hint of a smirk. "After so long that's the only thing you have ever called me."

Irso's eye twitched and her clawed feet gripped hard onto the ground. "It's the truth." She said softly, looking away. Rasha couldn't help but look a little smug.

"Are any of you still feeling the effects from last night?" Anton asked.

Eider chuckled, gently rubbing her forehead. "It hurts a little bit just here."

"That's because you slammed your head into the table." Kal gently shook her head.

"Did I?" Eider grew more embarrassed as the others only confirmed Kal's words. "Well...I don't remember that."

"Not surprising."

Anton looked more closely at the Cobra's forehead. Bruises would be near impossible to discern underneath her scaled skin but it did appear to be slightly raised. Eider frowned at the attention he was giving her and grew anxious when Anton reached out to touch her head. He spoke the prayer aloud, not to completely heal but to take the worst of the swelling down. Eider laughed as he withdrew his hand.

"Thanks, Anton. I feel a lot better now." Eider gently massaged her forehead. "It still amazes me that you can just touch a Beastkin like me without any hesitation."

Anton only smiled in response. His sides didn't want another battering, especially after Eider's short tail began swaying happily.

"And the rest of you?"

"I feel fine." Rasha slapped her arm. "A little bit tired though. Are we going to actually get some armour for this?"

"I think a shield will be enough, but we'll get to that in a sec. Ulyaa? Irso?"

Irso scratched her neck. "Fine. Can't complain."

"Compared to how we used to be treated..." Eider trailed off.

Anton clapped his hands, Eider jumped a little at the sound. "I should have asked you all this first but how did you sleep?"

"Did you get any?" Kal asked, a hint of worry in her voice. "I know I didn't sleep well for a long time."

"A bit." Ulyaa received nods from the others. "I kept waking up thinking...I don't know where I thought I was. Then I felt the bed and then I remembered." Ulyaa chuckled. "We never used to have beds."

"Not all of us," Kal mumbled. The Beastkin's faces grew dark, Irso's angry, leaving the humans baffled. Cetina and Verona shrugged at Anton.

"On the way, when we have a bit more privacy, I'd like you to tell me about that."

Kal gave a nod as the darkness lifted from her face. The others took longer before they were back to normal.

Yet another horror? So what is it this time? If it's about beds then it'll be comfort, and the only way you could get something like that is by currying favour from the masters. I think I know where this is going.

“How about you, Eider?” Anton asked softly. “Did you sleep alright?”

Eider smiled awkwardly. “I got some. Not that much…But more than I thought I would.”

“That’s good.” Anton smiled back as warmly as he could. “I didn’t know if you would but I’m glad that you did.”

"Excuse me." An Atros guard spoke up loudly to their side. "Do you have weapons and shields yet?"

"No armour?" Verona asked.

"Not enough." The man looked at Ulyaa and Rasha. "At least not enough to cover you properly."

Anton frowned. "Give them everything you can but don't be silly about it. Even an old leather chest piece will be better than nothing."

"I'll get on that right away." The guard appeared more than a little scared. "We're going to have to take another run to the armoury before we go. We don't have enough for the Seocurians either. But..." He motioned to the weapons cart just behind him, everyone was taking whatever weapon they felt was best.

"Cetina? Could you go with them and make sure they get the right weapons? I know that there's no way that Rasha's halberd could be ready but..."

"Sure." Cetina waved them forward. "I'll do my best."

"When did you get something like your own weapon?" Eider asked.

Rasha smiled. "When you were chatting away with that guard. I was speaking with Cetina but you were asking some-"

Eider hissed at Rasha. She was taken aback for a second before laughing and resting her hand on Eider's head. Ulyaa watched with indifference while Irso scowled at Rasha.

"That's...Hmm." Verona shrugged. "Kal. What was that all about?"

"I'll tell you later." Kal squeezed Anton's hand. "It's not something I enjoy thinking about."

Anton wasn't going to just let it go but she had promised to talk later. Cetina returned with the Beastkin girls. Rasha held a steel-tipped spear and a large wooden shield, a metal band ran along the rim to provide extra strength. Irso and Eider had a short sword and a similar shield. Ulyaa had the same wooden shield but also had a short spear, a few feet shorter than Rasha's.

Cetina saw him looking. "If Ulyaa is going to fight then she'll want something that can keep the enemy away from her, not necessarily do a lot of damage."

"Wouldn't something like one of those maces be better?" Anton asked. "It has a good swing on it...But afterwards-"

"She'd be left open to attack, even with the shield."

"What am I open to?" Ulyaa gripped hard on the spears handle and leant forward, at least her human upper body did.

"We'll explain on the way." Anton waved her down. "And, this goes for everyone, I don't want any of you to die."

"That's a given," Irso said softly.

"I mean that we will be doing most of the work. I don't want any of you, no matter how brave you feel or how you will look to others, to put yourselves in a position where you could die or get hurt. Kal and I can heal almost any wound. But not if you're dead. So stick close to each other and keep alert. Goblins have a real knack for blending in with the environment and being an absolute pain to find. They're not smart, though those Awakened are, but they are very crafty. Very sneaky."

"Are we going to take the horses?" Cetina asked. "It's going to be a decent trip."

"I...Not this time." Anton turned to Mount Aspire. "If it was just the four of us, yes, but even then we'd have to move slowly. I don't want to get thrown from my horse and crushed."

"Has that actually happened?"

"Not yet, but I don't want to be first." Cetina didn't look entirely convinced by his words. "But someone was thrown from their horse. I don't know if they just spooked or hurt it so it threw her off but it did. And then they spent the next ten or so days as a guest of the Goblins."

Verona shuddered. "That whole thing was horrible."

"Was it really that bad?" Irso asked.

"I'd rather be a slave in Seocuria," Verona said, her voice devoid of emotion. "And as a Seocurian."

They still only had the faintest inkling of what awaited them. Adara told them that Seocurian human slaves normally killed themselves rather than be mixed in with the Beastkin.

"Don't get caught then." Irso nodded. "Simple enough."

“I’ll drop Luna off soon as we get going.” Verona bounced Luna in her arms like a baby. “We don’t want here anywhere near a battle.”

Jeff ran towards them, now wearing his armour and sword and shield. "Everyone's pretty much ready to do. How about you?"

"We're fine. Just waiting on some armour for the Beastkin and the Seocurians."

Jeff grumbled as he looked at the two groups. "I told them to bring more than enough."

"It seems like they wanted us to have the weapons and shields rather than even some simple armour."

"Is it because it would completely touch a Beastkin's skin?" Kal's canine teeth were showing as she growled.

"Bloody well shouldn't be." Jeff shook his head. "A lot of people still aren't that happy with you lot being here."

"I'm sure they're not happy with just Kal," Anton said. Verona agreed with his words.

"They can't do much about it so they're being petty." Jeff patted Anton's shoulder. "I'll find out who and flog them if necessary."

"Hopefully after a few fights, and getting to know them, this nonsense will stop." Anton sighed. "At least, that's the plan."

"Worked well for Kal." Jeff chuckled.

Anton kissed Kal's forehead. "That it did. Here's hoping that it works again."

---[]---

The autumn sun slowly crept through the cloudless blue sky, not even the songs of the birds to break the calm and clear day. Anton didn't know how long it had taken, probably a couple of hours before midday judging by the sun's position, but they would soon be arriving at the base of the small mountain. Everyone moved as silently and as quickly as they could, as silent as two hundred people and some large heavy carts pulled by beasts of burden. The Ix were probably the loudest things in their motley convoy but without them they would have to carry their provisions themselves. Just like last time they travelled through this empty yet dangerous land.

"We'll stop here," Jeff shouted but softly. "I know that we shouldn't be doing much of the fighting but, if we do, I don't want to be gasping for breath or thirst. I'm sure our mages will appreciate it."

Anton gave Jeff a wave as he silently took many deep breaths. Whilst they had travelled the width of the Kar Kingdom and Graterious Empire with little difficulty this was entirely different. It didn't help that their horses had done much of the work but he had expected to do better.

There's no way that I'm this unfit. I mean, I'm usually pretty tired most mornings but I should have built up some more endurance.

Perhaps annoyingly the Beastkin didn't look that tired. They took the opportunity to rest but didn't look as bad as he felt. The worst were the Seocurians. They were broken, simply collapsing into the grass and allowing their weapons to fall.

"Really?" Cetina mumbled.

She stood in front of Anton, resting one hand on her sword. Anton didn't want her to carry her bent tower shield the whole way, even if it was far lighter than the equivalent steel shield, and had it loaded onto one of the carts.

"They're just fishermen," Anton said. "They've probably never left their village before. And our forced march wasn’t as fast as this."

"Not much point with the mountains on one side and the sea on the other." Kal stretched an arm over her head. "Though we're just as bad, really."

A silver-haired body flopped to the ground to his side. "We crossed an empire and a dead kingdom, twice, and it didn't feel that bad."

"We were riding horses." Kal faintly smiled.

"Yeah..." Anton agreed quietly. "Looks like Cetina was right. We are out of shape. Except for Kal."

Kal puffed out her chest in pride.

"It's the Beastkin in you." Verona pointed an accusatory finger at Kal's free tail. "I'm sure that's why."

"If anything that would be a detriment," Anton said, the three looked oddly at him. "Cats, felines, are stalkers. They aren't built for endurance like canines are. If what's true for those creatures carries over to Beastkin."

"It would explain why Kal can be so sneaky at night." Verona laughed. "Just sneaks up on the both of us. Pounces without warning."

Cetina shuffled on her spot, a faint redness to her face as images implanted by Verona, ones that weren't exactly false, flashed through her mind. Verona laughed before giving Anton a wink. Anton said nothing and motioned for them to sit. Anton scanned the villagers until he found Rasha, the poor blue Minotaur stood out like a sore thumb. Her skin, height and bulk made it difficult not to find her. She saw Anton looking, a faint expectant smile on her face as Anton waved them over. Verona nudged his side lightly but said nothing, even her face was blank.

"How are you four doing?" Anton asked.

Cetina shuffled closer to Verona, realised her mistake, and darted towards Kal. Verona simply laughed. The four sat, except for Ulyaa who simply let her body collapse and legs splay out. Anton felt one of his sides scream in pain; neither Rasha nor Ulyaa had bras or any kind of support. Inertia acted without impediment. Eider saw it too, a scaled hand brushed down her chest, absolutely zero resistance. No curves whatsoever. She looked up and found Anton silently chuckling, Eider returned the smile and began to scratch the inside of her hood.

"I take it Ulyaa's the only one struggling?" Verona waved an empty hand towards the arachnid.

"I'm just a bit tired." Ulyaa tucked her legs underneath her spider body. "All this walking is making me remember travelling from the ship to here. You didn't give us much rest then, did you?"

"I'm glad I didn't. And we still ran out of food a day before arriving. Imagine trying to do four or five days of that on an empty stomach."

"No thanks." Rasha allowed the spear handle to rest against her neck. "I don't like going hungry."

Rasha glanced at Irso, Anton was expecting a retort of some kind but not this time.

"Since we're going to be here for a bit to catch our breath,” Anton looked up and found Jeff resting against a nearby cart. He understood Anton's face and returned a thumbs up. "For a little while at least, I wanted to ask about what happened before we left. We were talking about beds and then...You all went very dark."

"And angry," Verona added softly.

The Beastkin looked amongst themselves but no answers came forth. Not even from Kal.

"Okay." Anton stretched out his legs. "I'll just have a stab in the dark, but is it something to do with Beastkin willingly helping the Seocurian masters."

The girls tensed, Verona and Cetina pursed their lips towards him. He was right.

"It's not that simple," Irso spoke very softly, her crackle almost overpowered by the rustling of the grass. "But, essentially yes. There are a few Beastkin that willingly work with the masters for better food, housing and work. Even doting on a favourite master. Fucking. Scum."

The four Beastkin girls nodded.

"They keep an eye on all of us." Eider continued. "So that the Masters know what we're doing. They tell the guards who’s doing what and when, and if its bad enough they beat or kill them. But they get found out pretty quickly. And then..."

"They don't see the dawn?" Anton asked.

"Yeah. They don't last long."

Anton scratched and held his bearded chin. "Snitches are never looked on fondly."

"I...Yes." Eider picked at her tail's scales.

“But I’m guessing you’re talking about something more terrible than someone who’s going to rat on you.”

“Kind of.” Eider shrugged. “Some of them barely have to work, so long as they keep giving the masters information. And if they come here…”

“All of a sudden they’ll have to start working again,” Anton said. “Properly this time. And you’re thinking that they’ll try and send a message back to Seocuria, telling them what we’re doing here so they’ll come and capture them and they can have their easy life back.”

“I…” Eider looked to the others. “I didn’t think that far ahead, but yes. I guess so.”

“Another reason to not let Seocuria know about us before they’re destroyed.” Anton smiled. “Not that I was ever going to give them the chance. But now we’ll keep an extra close eye on the Beast-kin whenever we’re doing stuff in Seocuria. Do you think that there’s any here right now like that?”

Irso shook her head. “Shouldn’t be. If they are they’re going to keep quiet about it. It might be the first Beast-kin murder in Atros if we find out.”

“Right…” Anton scratched his chin again. “Thank you for telli-”

“Not just that.” Rasha raised her large blue hand. “Some of them actually go further and become personal attendants. At least that’s what I think they’re called. They do it willingly. And without the drugs that muddled my mind. And Marion’s and Kristof’s.”

“Yeah.” Irso scratched her head, running a sharp-clawed hand through her rough hair. “I kind of didn’t want to talk about that.”

“How personal?” Verona asked. “Like a waiter or a server or…”

“Bed,” Irso grumbled. “They willingly become the master’s playthings.” Anton looked at Kal, she glumly nodded. “Sometimes it’s worse than just sleeping with them…Disgusting things, but some of the worse ones pick weak Beast-kin and have them fight each other.”

Anton raised his hand. “I think I get the idea. Blood sports…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I suppose it’s easy to do that when you consider the Beast-kin to be just meat. Not all of them, I’m sure.”

The Beast-kin girls tilted their heads, all frowning deeply.

“I saw a few, three actually, that looked disgusted at how the Beast-kin were being nailed to crosses and left to rot.” All four were repulsed by the imagery. “I don’t know if there are lots or if it’s just a few, but there are still some there that disagree with how you’re being treated.”

“Then why-”

Anton stopped Irso and waved to the Seocurians with them. Irso’s anger subsided.

“I understand. Some already tried.”

“Everyone get up!” Jeff yelled quietly. “I hope you’ve had a decent break because we need to keep moving.”

A few groaned but everyone followed his orders.

Anton turned to Kal. She smiled bitterly. “It’s probably not as bad as they say.” She whispered. “It’s just that anyone that works with the masters-”

“No Beast-kin’s going to think highly of them. Are they?”

“Yes. I don’t know why…I suppose I do know why they do it. Doesn’t make it any easier for us.”

Anton squeezed her shoulder, Verona gently held her hand as they prepared to move out.

"That all sounds pretty gross." Verona stuck out her tongue. "Sleeping with your owners, willingly, that is."

"Some might not have a choice." Anton patted Verona's hand. "But some might. And those are the ones we have to watch out for." Anton sighed and rubbed his temple. "Hate for humans, puritans and Uncle Tom's. There a lot of things that we need to sort through with the Beastkin."

"Uncle who?" Kal asked.

"It's, um. Basically a sell-out. Selling out your own kind to keep in with the rulers. Especially with something like slaves. Though my memory says that meaning had changed.”

"It's all wrong." Verona threw her hands up dramatically. "Don’t they realise it's so much better to have the fluffiness given to you rather than taken?"

Cetina looked confused while the Beastkin girls retreated from Verona ever so slightly. Eider and Irso didn't have fluffiness, as Verona would call it, but Rasha and Ulyaa did. Rasha's legs, from the knee down, transformed into something very similar to Kal's, except with a hoof instead of claws. The same could be said of Ulyaa, her spider body's dark hair looked extremely soft, so too did the hair covering her eight legs. Verona eyed them off as the two grew increasingly concerned.

"You are...Very strange," Irso grumbled.

Verona laughed. An awkward smile crept up her face as she scratched her cheek. "Yeah. I guess I always was. Anton didn't help in that regard."

Anton gently patted her head, Verona laughed again and squirmed about so his fingers scratched deeper. The light clanging of the small clay pots around her hips jogged his memory. When he relinquished his touch he searched through the grass for a stone. Everyone remained silent until he found what he was looking for.

"Oh. Right." Verona chuckled. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

"What are you doing?" Rasha asked. She leant forward but could not discern anything about the dirt covered stone. It was, after all, just a stone. At least for now it was.

"I'm about to, or rather Kal is, about to make Verona even more powerful."

"With a stone?" Rasha asked. None appeared particularly convinced. “But she uses blood, not rocks or stones. Can you use more than one type of magic like Anton?”

“Ha! I wish.”

Anton passed the stone to Kal. She held it in her hands and chanted a prayer to make the stone cold.

"Here you go." Kal passed the stone over.

"It's really cold." Verona juggled the stone in her hand before slipping it into a pot.

"Was that it?" Ulyaa asked. "I don't understand."

"I can only use blood that's fresh." Verona drew her blade and took Anton's hand. "And I can't use my own too. Anyway, Anton thinks it's because the blood rots too quickly, and when something's cold it goes bad much slower. Like the milk for Luna."

"Oh...I thought that stone was bigger than that."

"The magic we use is different to normal magic." Anton began. "I don't know how it compares but it can, at least Tethra's power, make something that small quite powerful."

"Don't forget what Shawn and Jocelyn made," Verona said.

"Magic." Ulyaa chuckled. "It all seems so strange to us. You seem like you're a hundred miles above us."

"I know that feeling." Kal smiled bitterly. "At first I could only use a bow, while they could annihilate an army on their own."

"An army?" Rasha voice and face were incredulous. "Hundreds, thousands of armed men. And against you two?"

"Five thousand." Verona beamed with pride. "Five thousand at once, Anton took out."

"Really?"

"About that number." Anton slowly nodded. "Then a few hundred more after that."

"I..." Rasha lost her voice, then her ability to reason. She blinked after a few seconds and simply shook her head.

"You see what I mean?" Kal chuckled. "But eventually I was gifted Tethra's power. And I can now make things like this."

Kal brought out the last of her enchanted arrows. Their eyes were transfixed by the swirling lights on the iron heads.

"They do look a little bit like what Jonathan's kids made," Verona said softly. "Could either of you make one like they did?"

"Probably," Anton whispered back. "But I don't need to spend my limited mana on that. I never would have thought to ask for the effects that the lightning and fire weapons have. What they have is a lot more interesting than just setting things on fire or giving them a nasty shock. I can do that already."

Verona, satisfied with his response, gave a curt nod and looked back to the arrows.

"These are what I made." Kal looked very happy to show them off. "This one explodes in a blast of lightning and this one of fire."

"That's insane." Ulyaa shook her head.

"If I had a bow could I use one?" Rasha asked. Eider nodded in earnest.

"I don't think you could, Rasha," Anton said.

"Why?" Anton flicked his eyes down to her chest. "Oh. Right."

"But Eider certainly could."

"What?" Eider's eyes twitched violently. She looked between all the women, her distress only becoming more evident, before stopping on Irso. Irso gently patted her shoulder.

"Don't you pity me!" Eider shouted. She shrunk low as everyone's attention was drawn to her. "Great. So I can be an archer, and I don't need armour there because..." Eider cried fake tears as she slammed her feet on the ground.

Compared to everyone here you did lose the genetic lottery.

Once everyone was ready the convoy slowly moved to the base of the mountain. Since the Goblins had a keen sense of smell and hearing, while their eyesight was relatively poor, Anton was less worried that they would be spotted than simply felt or heard. Kal had moved to the top of a cart, her bow drawn and an arrow knocked. Out of everyone present, she was the best scout they had. Every so often she would raise her hand, everyone would stop, before allowing the convoy to continue. Anton heard some grumbling but he trusted her instincts.

"I don't see where they could be," Verona spoke softly to Anton. "How do we even know they are from this mountain and not just some hole in the ground?"

"Good question." Anton found Jeff's back a few meters in front. "Let's find out."

Anton and Verona quickened their pace and caught up to Jeff. From underneath his steel helmet, his eyes constantly surveyed the grasslands around him for anything. With his sword and shield drawn it would be difficult for a single Goblin to kill him.

But there was never just one.

"Jeff? How do we know where we are going? This mountain has nothing on it worth talking about. Just grass."

Jeff pointed his sword to the middle point up the mountain. "Dana said she saw them hanging around a cave up there. It's not a big one but we both know they can go very far underground."

"Yes. That they can."

Anton wanted to try the eye enhancement again but they had to keep moving. The bouncing with him walking alone would have made him violently ill. He had to trust them.

The convoy slowed even more as it began to climb. The Ix weren't struggling yet but their speed has slowed to a crawl. Kal bailed from the top when some of the crates and barrels shifted beneath her feet. None were lost but she didn't want to take the chance. Eventually Anton saw the cave entrance in the mountain. A perfect place to hide a Goblin nest; barely a meter tall and wide, covered in grass and a few hanging vines. If the Goblins hadn’t been lounging outside when Dana rode by they never would have found it. Jeff brought everyone to a halt with about a hundred meters to go.

"This will have to do," Jeff said. "We can't bring them any further without waking up the whole mountain. Or just falling over. So, Anton, any ideas for this? I was, originally, only going to bring the Atros guards..."

Anton's head darted about. "We shouldn't take too many people. Most should stay here with the Ix and carts, just in case. It'll do them some good. We three, Cetina, you and a handful from each group should be enough."

"What about us?" Avery asked. As per usual he had remained silent during the entire trip.

"You and the archers should stay here, inside the perimeter of guards. You can pick them off before they even get near the carts."

"Right." Avery waved sharply and the archers took up their positions.

"Any Beastkin from your little gathering?" Jeff teasingly asked as Cetina approached.

"I, I'm not too sure just yet." Anton saw them standing a few meters away, looking up at the mountain. "While I know that you two, three, know how to handle yourselves I'm not sure about them. Especially..."

"Especially?" Cetina asked softly.

"Since they're women," Verona replied. "They might just try and drag them down into the depths.” She shuddered at the memories of Mount Aspire.

"Oh."

"This time I'll have them stay with the carts," Anton said. "I can hardly show favouritism. Besides, Jeff, you should be leading this, not me."

"It's a good idea to hear other people's ideas," Jeff said proudly. "And I wanted to know that the person that could burn Atros to the ground with a snap of his fingers would say. And who is going to be doing most of the work. But I kind of agree with you. Besides, none of us can fit in there anyway."

"So what was your plan in the first place?" Verona asked.

"I..." Jeff scratched his head and looked away. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. Bang some shields outside the cave and wait for them to come to us? I don't know, you have no idea how frustrating it was to remain inside the walls watching them wander just outside. Roaming about like they owned the place, smashing and trampling everything we had worked so hard to make."

"I don't," Anton admitted, Jeff was a little surprised by the admission. "And I never hope to know. I was thinking that I throw some big...No."

"No?" Kal raised a brow.

"No. The Goblins might just run away if I use my most powerful magic, and show myself to be something they can't beat. If I make a small fireball but use my magic right I should be able to make it give off tonnes of thick smoke."

Anton held out his hand and summoned a small fireball. He smiled at Cetina's surprise and focused everything he had on creating smoke. Slowly the shimmering waves of heat were replaced by an increasingly thick, black smoke. It grew so thick that he couldn't see the flame anymore. A cough from Kal was enough to tell him to stop. He withdrew the flame but the smoke remained, slowly drifting and dissipating into the clean air. Anton heard a cough from Eider. Her hands scratched at her tongue, trying to scrape away the taste of the smoke.

"That should work." Kal coughed and waved away a tendril of smoke. "I could barely breathe."

"This should be fun." Verona chuckled.

"When I do start any Goblin near the entrance might come running out to escape the smoke. Cetina? I want your shield between me and the cave entrance. There's a chance one might have a sling or a javelin."

"Can you use your magic when you can't see it?"

"Yes. That's not a problem."

Cetina took her shield off a cart and rested the edge on the grass. "You can count on me, Anton."

"And us?" Verona smiled as she leant forward, quite a sleazy smile at that.

"I want you to keep your shards ready to strike down anyone or anything that comes out. The same goes for you, Kal." Both girls nodded seriously. "Maybe not a lightning or fire arrow...As for everyone else, they should hang back and be ready for any attack, from behind or above. There's a chance there's some wandering about outside, and if all our attention is focused on the cave..."

"Got it." Jeff looked to the cave. "Shouldn't be a problem. If one them manages to sneak up on us I'm going to whip the person that let it."

Jeff said his last sentence a little louder than the rest, the nearby guards took note and gripped their weapons and shields tighter.

A minute later and those that were going to the cave were ready. Rasha and Eider looked a little concerned they were being left behind but Anton did his best to calm them. It appeared to work and they remained near the carts, their weapons at the ready. Kal took the lead, instructing everyone to crouch low and move upwards as silently as possible. It was a difficult task, the loose grass gave way in many places sending dirt and rocks towards the person behind. Anton caught several heading for his mouth and didn't want to know what he was sending down behind him. Kal signalled a stop. She stood on her knees and fired a single normal arrow. A thunk, of piercing flesh, followed. Another arrow flew the moment the first had landed. Kal waited a few moments before moving everyone forward. Tow Green Goblins lay dead at the mouth of the cave. Neither would have known what was about to happen to them. Kal gingerly retrieved her arrows, always keeping an eye towards the dark and foreboding cave before returning to his side.

"I only saw them." Kal wiped the blood off the arrows. "But it certainly smells like there are Goblins in there. Judging by the stench there are a lot."

"How many?" Jeff asked.

"I...Maybe five to six hundred?" Kal shrugged. "I'm just guessing but the Greens don't build up to those sort of numbers without a higher ranked goblin controlling them. Probably the yellows that attacked Atros alongside the Greens."

"Six hundred?" Jeff rubbed the sweat from his brow.

"Probably more," Kal said. "If that many could attack Atros without retreating then they have a lot more to spare."

Jeff grumbled loudly. "And to think I thought I could take them with a hundred."

"So long as they only came through this one spot I think you'd be fine." Anton smiled. "We'll start in just a moment. So if you want to get everyone else ready?"

"Half of you, keep your backs to the cave and look out there," Jeff ordered. "I don't want even one of these things able to sneak up on us. The rest will keep watch around the cave, and that means above it too. I don't want anyone to die on this outing so make sure you do your job."

The men silently spread out and followed his orders. The few Beastkin and Seocurians they had brought needed a little guidance but they too quickly fell into line.

Cetina readied her shield. "I'm ready whenever you are, Anton."

Verona's body glowed and the blood shards floated before her. Kal knocked an arrow and aimed towards the black cave. After standing behind Cetina and her shield he summoned another fireball, slightly larger than before, and gently pushed it into the cave. The inside of the cave was thankfully devoid of Goblins but not of bones. Too large to be human, probably Razor-pigs or rabbits, maybe even some of the large brightly coloured birds that ran through the plains. Regardless of what they were the bones were almost stripped clean. Beyond the bones, the cave quickly branched into five tunnels of different sizes. Two looked big enough for a child to crawl through, judging by scuff marks on the edges they were used regularly. The other three were also used heavily with a dusty trail leading deeper into the cave.

"Good thing we aren't going in." Verona chuckled. "Even I couldn't fit in those small ones."

Kal sniggered. "Especially if you keep eating the way you do."

"What?" Verona patted her stomach. "Does that look fat to you?"

"They do."

Anton laughed as Verona joined in. Cetina smiled awkwardly and looked back into the cave.

"I can't see anything moving in there but it's definitely been used recently. Some of the bones look wet."

"How can you...Right. The eyepatch. Are you ready?" Anton only received nods. "Let's begin."

Anton focused and the ball of flame began to leak copious amounts of the thick black smoke. Some of the smoke began to leak out the cave, Anton had expected it to, but very little travelled down. Anton groaned as he realised his obvious blunder; smoke was hot and slowly rose into the sky. It wouldn't just fall of its own accord.

"I miscalculated." Anton withdrew the flame and stood up, kicking at the ground.

Kal lowered her bow and he'd his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Hot smoke doesn't sink." Anton turned to Mount aspire. "Cool smoke will but I’m still losing a lot. The only reason it worked before was that we set the fire off in the lowest sections. Now we're at the top. And unless we can seal the cave, yet still have my flame, smoke ball, on the other side, this isn't going to work. At least quickly."

Kal held her chin. "I...I might have an idea. You've made enchantments that run out after some time has passed?"

"Yes. Quite a few. In fact, I'm sure the poison immunity is still there."

"So you could make a smoke stone that'll last a day."

"And then I blow up the cave entrance, trapping it all inside." Anton kissed Kal. "And you're the one always accusing me of being sneaky and manipulative."

Kal flushed, not before sneaking in another kiss. "You are. And you still are, even if you don't realise it."

Verona chuckled as Cetina watched on helpless. Jeff approached with a deep frown.

"Is something wrong?"

"Kind of." Anton pointed to the thin trails of smoke rising into the clear blue sky. "I'd forgotten that we're at the top of the caves and hot smoke rises. Thankfully, Kal had come up with a solution."

"Only because I watched you." Kal's tail wagged happily behind her as she held a small stone in her hand. “When I'm done I don't want to hold it, I could barely breathe with the smoke last time."

"Right. Everyone needs to move back. Collapsing the cave is going to throw up a lot of rocks and dust."

Anton turned away and stopped a few meters back, more than enough distance to avoid the blast. Cetina followed, her shield hanging loosely by her side. Anton looked over her shoulder and his face drained of colour. A Green Goblin crawled out of the lowest tunnel. Its deformed humanoid face looked around, quizzical, wondering why light had shone deep into the cave when it wasn't morning. In one hand it held a crude sling, a stone already in place. He grabbed Cetina by the shoulder, surprise plastered over her face, and spun her to face the cave and raised her shield arm. Her shield clanged as a rock struck the metal and dropped to the ground.

The Goblin screeched, unintelligible but it's meaning clear.

Intruders.

Red shards flashed past his head, eviscerating the Goblin before it could breathe again. But it was too late.

"Sorry I had to grab you, Cetina. But I didn't have time." Anton held her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I..." Cetina's body was shaking. "I'm okay." She swore under her breath. "Fuck. I'm sorry I didn't keep my shield towards the cave. I'm a terrible bodyguard."

Anton patted her shoulder. "It's fine. Just keep your shield up and your head low."

"Yes, Anton." Cetina gritted her teeth and braced her shield on the ground.

He knew that expression, she was kicking herself internally. Anton patted her shoulder again and turned to Kal. She mumbled words furiously. Smoke had yet to emerge from her clasped hands.

Anton heard scratching and clawing coming from within the mountain. Even the air began to tremble. Kal had been far too conservative with her numbers. The guards began to panic, especially the new ones, as Jeff tried to hold their nerve. He too began to look very worried. Small bursts of light cut through the darkness, bobbing and weaving, flickering in and out as the horde swarmed past the torchbearers.

Any time now, Kal.

Verona drew up blood from the dead Goblin and hid it around the edge of the cave in a large hoop. He didn't know what she was planning but it would undoubtedly keep them safe. There was never even a moment of doubt in his mind.

The two small tunnels began to flicker with light. Shadows danced over the stones as hundreds of hands scrambled towards them.

"There's a lot more than a thousand in there," Anton said quietly.

"Yeah." Verona and Cetina agreed quietly.

The mountain gave birth. Birth to horrors.

Green and Yellow arms burst out of the small tunnels clawing and grasping at the stone. None could get through but it wasn't stopping them from trying. The green arms retreated and a Yellow Goblin squirmed through, its face bled from the rocks but it didn't care.

Prey waited patiently before them. As the first Goblin raced towards them Kal shouted.

"It's done!"

Thick acrid smoke leaked from her hands in cascading flows. Anton wanted to know what she had done but there was no time left. He summoned four lightning bombs, tethered together, and readied to throw them into the cave's roof. Kal threw the smoke stone with all her might, foul smoke trailed behind like a comet’s tail. The stone bounced between the legs of the first Yellow Goblin who barely noticed its passing before it travelling to the lower tunnels. Through the shadows, Anton saw the Goblins stop and investigate the strange item. Almost instantly the light vanished, consumed by smoke. The cries from the darkening depths became frantic and panicked.

The first goblin passed underneath Verona's blood arch, only to receive a blood spike through its head throwing it to the ground. Behind him, a tide of Goblins emerged from the lower levels as more squirmed out of the upper two. Anton took the chance and threw the lightning balls into the cave, Verona retracted the blood pinning the Goblin, and into the roof. Everything disappeared in a flash of blinding white light. Though his sight was temporarily blinded he could still hear. Just. Tumbling stones and rocks echoed over the increscent ringing in his ears. When he opened his eyes again the cave had completely collapsed.

"Did that work?" Jeff asked.

Anton raised his hand to his lips. While their side fell silent he heard the panicked screeching emanating from behind the collapsed stones. Claws scratched at stone's blocking the Goblins escape. With every passing second they grew dimmer and dimmer until they ceased completely.

Verona threw a large rock at the cave in. Nothing.

"I think they're dead now."

"My eye," Cetina grumbled.

"Oh shit. Did the enchantment hurt you?"

"No." Cetina kept her shield facing the collapsed cave. "But I saw it break apart and make all that light and noise. It was...strange to watch."

"So long as it didn't blind you." Anton patted her shoulder again, and the faintest hint of a smile crept up the corner of her face. "Kal. What did you end up making?"

"I asked Tethra to make the stone emit thick, heavy smoke until midday tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Anton looked at midday sun. "That's a long time."

"I had to change halfway through since I didn't ask it to stop." Kal smiled. "I thought it would be bad if it did that forever."

"That would be bad." Anton chuckled and kissed her forehead. “How much mana did it use?”

“Almost everything.” Kal’s hands shook. With a light thump to her side it stopped.

"I should get something too." Verona butted in. "I made that circle thing around the cave."

"I was wondering what that was going to do." Anton kissed Verona as well. Her face beamed with pride as she gently rubbed the spot where his lips touched.

Cetina made a noise and nodded to the cave. Black smoke began to leak out of the rubble.

"Time to go, everyone."

Anton waited a moment before retreating, just to make sure the smoke did dissipate. When he was certain he followed the guards as they descended towards the carts. This time Cetina kept her shield raised facing the cave. She hadn't forgiven herself for her lapse just yet. He hoped she wouldn't beat herself up too much.

The other guards waved at them, it was hard to miss Rasha's large form, when Kal stopped and drew an enchanted arrow. Before he could ask where Kal loosed to the right of the carts. Fire exploded and inhuman shrieks pierced the air.

"More?" Verona asked, flaring her power.

The new people panicked. Atros guards pulled the others back into a tight formation as the archers scanned the burning grass for any signs of life. Kal drew another fire arrow and loosed at the other side. The grass burned and more goblins screamed.

"They're coming out of the ground!" Kal yelled at the others. "Look for the smoke! That's where they’re coming from!"

Avery directed his archers onto the carts. The distinctive thud of arrows loosed filled the air followed by dying shrieks of goblins. Out of the two burning patches, Yellow and Green Goblins hauled themselves out of the ground. This time the very ground seemingly gave birth to the monsters. Once they were free they didn't launch into the attack. It took a few seconds, a few deep breaths before they knew even where to go.

Even with Avery's archers firing as fast as they could the Goblins still reached the perimeter. Armed with only their rancid claws they were cut down by steel spears, swords and broke themselves against the large wooden and steel shields. Anton started to relax but there were so many Goblins they simply crawled over their fellows and lunged at their prey. They were already in a tight circle and had nowhere to go. Anton threw fireballs at both sites and bought some time.

"Behind!" Avery yelled. "Behind us! Another group from behind."

Neither he nor Kal could reach there, not to mention that's where the Beastkin girls were. Rasha turned away and readied her spear, he hoped the others were ready as well.

Black smoke seeped out of the ground in ever greater quantity as they neared. Though the Goblins had numbers on their side the smoke was winning. Limp arms bursting from the ground littered the burning grass, the Goblins no longer had the strength to pull themselves free. The last few could barely move, their distended bellies heaved with deep breaths of the fresh air, only to be silenced by an arrow to the head. With both sides no longer a threat Anton broke through the guards and ran to the rear. The Beastkin and Seocurians were doing well, all things considered, now that their backs were against the wall. Neither side cared when they bumped into one another, when fur and hide touched black skin, or when a sword strike saved their lives. It was exactly what Anton wanted, but not for it to be so chaotic.

Kal leapt onto a cart and joined Avery's archers. They made room for her, they weren't about to complain about an extra set of skilled hands.

Rasha, Eider and Irso fought at the front while Ulyaa skittered behind them. Eider and Irso slashed and cut with the ferocity of an untrained but determined warrior, always keeping their shields raised to receive whatever strikes may come. Rasha's sheer strength was more than enough to send the Goblins flying. Her spear effortlessly cut through the Goblin's hide and a bash from her shield sent them flying too, their deformed faces contorted in stupefaction as they soared through the air. One tried to dive between her legs, a problem due to her sheer size, but received a spear strike to the head from Ulyaa. Since Ulyaa took up so much space she had to stay behind. Her body bounced around as she stabbed at any Goblins that made it through. Though they were doing well physically their mental state was suffering. After only a few seconds of fighting they were already drained. This was their first real taste of killing, the Goblins in the small cloth storage building did not compare.

When Anton reached the front most of the Goblins were dead, a pile of yellow and green flesh drenched in blood. Like everyone at the front they too were covered in blood. Anton hoped it wasn’t theirs.

He threw a few fireballs over the front of the Goblin wave while Verona threw her blood shard into the front. The bodies piled together, impaled by blood shards and sent tumbling back. Cetina joined to the side and helped to cut the few that survived Verona’s onslaught.

An arrow flew over the Goblin mass and exploded in a wave of fire. The Goblins emerging from the ground screamed in pain but it was enough to slow their deluge down to a crawl. Now those from the rear began to look like those coming from the side, breathless and exhausted. Within a minute all were dead. Only arms and half emerged bodies remained in the burnt patches of grass.

“Is everyone okay?” Anton asked loudly.

Everyone breathed more easily but he didn’t get a reply. A murmur quickly spread throughout the crowd.

“Sounds like we’re fine,” Jeff said loudly. “Anyone missing someone?”

He didn’t receive a reply, some good news.

“Well.” Anton rested his hands on his hips. “I think that went well. All things considered.”

“I’ve got so much blood on me,” Rasha grumbled. The Goblin blood was thickest running down her legs, soaking into her fur. She tried wiping it away but it simply spread to her hands. “And it’s even in my hooves too.”

“Blood or bits of Goblin?”

“Both. I think.” Rasha raised her leg. Small pieces of Green and Yellow flesh were wedged deep in her hoof.

“We’ll sort that out on the way.” Anton tried to pat her shoulder but had to settle with her back. She appeared to appreciate the gesture and stomped her hoof into the blood stained grass. “As for you three?”

“Just blood.” Eider chuckled. “Lots of it. I’m surprised we didn’t get cut.”

“These Goblins didn’t have weapons.” Cetina sheathed her sword. “Not even wooden spears. If they did it would have been much worse.”

“Not that their claws aren’t dangerous,” Verona added.

She picked the bodies out of the way and made a pathway back down the mountain. The further Anton looked the more smoke emerged from the ground. Was the entire mountain porous? And had they almost kicked up a nest even worse than Mount Aspire. He was glad the smoke was undoubtedly filling every tiny little nook and cranny with thick black smoke.

“Jeff? Do you think it’s time we went back home?”

Jeff gave a serious nod. “Yeah. I’ve had enough of Goblins, and I’m sure everyone here has too. That smoke thing that Kal made…that will keep working until tomorrow?”

“It should.” Kal slinked down from the cart, barely making a sound or disrupting the load. “I don’t have a reason to doubt Tethra’s abilities or what I asked of her.”

Jeff turned back to the collapsed cave. The black smoke leaking from the rocks was growing at an alarming rate. The entire mountain’s cavern system was probably already flooded with smoke and simply couldn’t contain any more. He doubted the Goblins were smart enough to be ready to seal their tunnels off, to be fair they wouldn’t be either.

“Very well.” Jeff smiled warmly. “In that case, the first suppression of the Goblins has been a great success.” There were no cheers, only the look of those satisfied their home was safe. And those still reeling from the mental strain of bloodshed. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter 117 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Cooperation

Chapter 117 Pt.1:

Atros was a welcome sight as the afternoon sun beamed down on their tired bodies. For the past several hours they had maintained a brisk jog through the empty grasslands on their return to Atros. Thankfully the land was flat and devoid of any real obstacles but the sheer distance was a drain.

“Ugh,” Anton grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Now I understand why Cetina said that we should do some training.”

“It’s not that bad.” Kal said, walking on his left. She wasn’t out of breath or suffering in any way. “This is what I normally used to do. Faster even.”

“But we’ve spent most of our time riding horses or carts,” Anton replied. “Qaiviel, Graterious and here have all been on those. Now that I think about it we haven’t really done much walking or running. We’re just not used to it.”

A groan came from his right. Verona looked worse than he felt.

“Now I know how those Beast-kin and Seocurian’s felt.” Verona breathed deep, her face flushed red. “Though we weren’t going this fast.”

“We might have to take you up on your offer,” Anton said to Cetina.

Cetina, on Kal’s other side in order to keep several people in between her and Verona, walked quickly alongside them even with her metal armour and sword. While her shield rested in the back of a cart her metal armour was still quite heavy, even her arm and leg guards. She looked like Kal, slightly red-faced from exertion but still bright and energetic. At least as energetic as she could be. After the incident with the sling she hadn’t forgiven herself, and it was clear for him to see.

“I’m sorry about how I said it before.” Cetina winced slightly. “I kind of got ahead of myself-”

Anton waved her down. “It’s fine. Though you did see a problem before it really came up. We really need to work on our endurance.”

He was certain Verona said something.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see the sling.” Cetina scrunched her eye and hung her head low. “If I you hadn’t seen it-”

“It’s fine, Cetina. But I don’t want you going on and on about it all the time otherwise I’m going to get annoyed. Learn from it. And move on. That’s all we can do.”

“I still feel bad about it,” Cetina mumbled. She did look a little calmer, perhaps even happy.

Kal patted her shoulder, Cetina wasn’t worried about Kal’s Beast-kin hands touching her. In fact, it had never come up once. She appeared to sympathise with the Beast-kin on some level during her time in Seocuria. They too were downtrodden and abused like she was, though hers was nowhere near as bad as what the Beast-kin still continued to suffer every day.

“There’s the forest.” Anton smiled. Ahead lay the ridge with the small forest on the ridge, one of the few features in the empty grassland. “Shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

Kal nodded. “And we can see the smoke from Atros. At least we know it’s safe.”

“Not like when we came back from Qaiviel,” Anton mumbled. He held Verona’s hand. “That was one of the worst things I’ve seen here.”

“Yeah…” Verona returned the hold tightly. “It wasn’t fun.”

“More Goblins?” Cetina asked.

“Kobolds,” Kal replied. “A lot of them too. I don’t know how many but probably over a thousand.”

Verona laughed. “After a while I stopped counting. It can be hard to tell how many are there when they’re just red paste mixed into the grass.”

“Yeah…” Anton didn’t want to linger too much longer on those days. “Cetina? Is there anything you can tell us about Bebbezzar? Like its people and lands?”

“Are you actually thinking of going that way?” Cetina sounded a little happy though she was a little conflicted.

“Yes.” Anton nodded to the west. “We can’t go back to Graterious, that crystal chasm is still there, and I don’t want to be waiting in a Goblin infested Jaka just waiting for The Snowberry to turn up.”

“Wilford might have run off with your ship,” Verona said softly.

“In that case, he knows that he won’t be alive for much longer.”

Verona looked at Kal with a slightly worried face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’m sure it won’t.” Anton smiled and ruffled her hair. “But if they aren’t there when we arrive…I don’t think any of you want to spend the next few days in a place swarming with Goblins.”

“What about that red crystal?” Kal tilted her head.

“That would work…But I don’t think it’s perfect. Once they notice us they’ll attack. And there’s simply too many of them.”

“Surely you could make a stone that could do that?” Verona shrugged. “Seems that’s what you’re doing all the time now. A stone for this, a stone for that.”

“We could. But I still don’t want to take that chance.” Anton smiled at Verona. “But maybe we should make some and set up a perimeter around Atros. It might not be perfect but it’ll slow them down. If it works.”

“It took a lot out of me just to make that smoke stone.” Kal scratched her long Beast-kin ears. “That might have to be something we look at doing over the next few seasons.”

“And we still need to get the portal working properly. But I think we should look into it as well. Now that we’ve got Atros mostly protected, what can you tell us about Bebbezzar?”

It took Cetina a moment to realise she was being spoken to. She shook her head and flexed her hands. “Right. Well, it’s very much like what…my father told you. Open, warm grasslands with many forests and small hills. But I’m sure you could work that out from the map you received from Lord Cassius. As for what you might want from there…There are a lot of rare things in the larger cities. That’s where the people have lots of money. One time I travelled with my father to the port city of Alcanares and I saw things there that…I can’t even begin to describe.”

Cetina looked away, her eye turned misty, reliving a precious warm memory. Anton, nor Verona or Kal, wanted to break that feeling.

“Anyway, I saw things from more than just Bebbezzar. Things made in Qaiviel, Seocuria…” Cetina looked a little awkward at saying that place’s name. Anton motioned for her to continue. “Graterious, even a few things from the Kar Kingdom.”

“I’ve always wondered what this place was like before it collapsed.” Verona shrugged lightly to his words. “But Bertram and Sybil are probably the only two who know much about it. What sort of things were there?”

“Well, I was pretty young, but I’m sure there were some books, some weapons and armour, a few mages amulets, charms and staves. There was something else that I saw, it was really expensive, but I can’t remember what it was…” Cetina ground her temple with her glove. “I remember it was with the magic…stuff. Some sort of warding amulet or something. I can’t remember. But it was with the other magical items. Trading cities in Bebbezzar are always kept ordered by royal decree. Though, I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”

Maybe that has something to do with the strife? The merchants weren’t making enough money because they were being stifled? Seems a bit far-fetched but it might have contributed, especially if someone dripped those words into a greedy merchant.

“There’s also things from the Mycenaean City States, The Holy Kingsland…They worship the Holy Father as well and are allies of the Qaiviel Kingdom. Kind of.”

“We definitely need to be careful with any information getting out about Atros until we’re a world power.” Anton turned to the Beast-kin. They were as tired as the humans, physically better but mentally worse. “If they found out about this place then…How big is this Holy Kingsland?”

“Bigger than this continent.” Cetina grimaced. “And there’s a lot more people, well, humans there than here. If they really wanted to they could probably take all the Kingdoms and Empires over.”

“So why don’t they?” Verona asked. “If they could do it...”

Cetina shook her head. “You have no idea how difficult it is to move that many people. And the food and supplies needed for such a thing. They’d need to travel a straight before they reached land, and then they’d just end up in the Mycenaean City States. And they wouldn’t like that. And then they’d have to cross lands that no one controls before reaching Qaiviel. Except beasts and monsters. I think centaurs live there too.”

“Again, let’s not anger them. Though it might be difficult for them if they’re angry enough I think they might just do it. Anger can cloud one’s reason.”

Verona and Kal shared a silent glance.

“There’s also a few things from Frindal Emirate. Spices, mainly. And a few swords and even some horses.”

“Spices?” Anton asked. The two girls looked very eager to know more as well.

Cetina chuckled nervously at their intensity. “Y-Yes. There’s some spices that taste really strange. Different to salt…I had a soup made from it and it was so good.” Cetina licked her lips, something he never imagined her doing. “My lips tingled and it was not just the soup but my mouth stayed hot for a long time as well.”

“Sounds like some sort of chillies.” Anton mused. “It’s all well and good to have good natural foods but I would like something with a bit more flavour. All we’ve got right now is a bit of salt.” Anton ruffled Kal’s hair. “Not that the mushroom soup that you prepared wasn’t fantastic.”

“I’ve heard about something like that too.” Kal chuckled as she straightened her hair. “Apparently the Seocurian Masters liked it and started importing it recently. I never actually had some but…”

“Something like that would be great to have-”

“Are you going to make something?” Verona asked, her body bouncing in eagerness. “You two can make some really delicious food.”

Anton pinched Verona’s cheek. She resisted but playfully tried to swat him away. “Only because you get lots of free food to eat. Or, more to the point, steal.”

“You guys just need to eat faster. Or give me more, then it’ll be fine.” Verona slurred out. Anton released his hold and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Where do you put it?” Anton and Kal asked simultaneously.

Verona laughed while Cetina glared at Verona’s chest.

“I’ll make you something once we get some of those spices.” Anton began. “If they’ve made it to any of the cities away from the coast if we head that way. I would like a good curry, it’s been so long.”

Cetina snapped her finger. “That’s what they called it! It was really, really good….Wait, how do you know what…Have you been to Bebbezzar or the Frindal Emirate before?”

“No…” Anton scratched his head, mentally cursing his slight slip. “But it feels right. Sometimes these things come up, like muscle memory. I don’t think about it I just say it.”

Cetina looked at him for a second before giving a single nod and looking away. Verona and Kal appeared relieved that she had, at least appeared to, give up questioning it further.

“What about anything else?” Anton asked. “Like tools?”

“Most of them you could make here, I’m sure. But there are a few special items that they make there. Oh, not to mention this.” Cetina pointed to her bright clothes. “I know you’re always asking why I keep wearing these…Anyway, they make a lot of dyed cloth over there. They go all around the world.”

“A bit of colour would be nice.” Anton scanned the guards. “I think us four are the most vibrantly dressed here. The Beast-kin don’t count, since it’s their natural skin and fur.”

Kal raised a very questioning brow, held back a chuckle and shook her head.

“What about those birds?” Verona pointed to the south.

At the very limit of his natural vision, a small herd of brightly coloured birds ran near the lake. Anton had seen these creatures often but never up close, they were afraid of humans and never came close. However they never attacked Atros nor had he heard of anyone being attacked when collecting timber or stone. They were an enigma to him after all this time, time that had to be spent in other more helpful areas.

"If we want to brighten this place up they could be a good idea," Anton said. "Capture a few and keep them in pens and collect their feathers. We could even have guards and police wear them so they're easy to identify. Making blue cloth here for their armbands is all but impossible here. For now at least. At least without us constantly using our power."

"Do you know what dye they use in Bebbezzar?" Verona asked Cetina. Verona skipped behind Anton and Kal to Cetina's side. She pulled at a loose blue fold. "I don't know if its wool or cotton but it feels really soft. Strong too."

Cetina eyed Verona warily until she released. Only when Verona did and returned to his right did she relax, a hand brushed lightly across her chest plate.

"It is cotton. I'm pretty sure but I don't know for sure. Thessos didn't make any so I don't know what they use. I think the purple cloth is only made by the sea..."

Purple is the colour of royalty on Earth because it was so hard to get. If I remember things right it only came naturally from some sort of sea snail, and not much from each. Perhaps that's true here?

"I'm sure that we could just use our magic to turn cloth purple or any colour if we really wanted to. But I'd prefer not to."

Verona frowned lightly. "Why?"

"Because if we make everything rely on magic then it'll be incredibly easy to break. Say we only use some sort of water stone for all of our water supplies. And then someone spreads Gliyrhil over it."

Verona nodded glumly. "Then it wouldn't make any water. And if it couldn't be replaced we would all die of thirst."

"Atros will become very susceptible to sabotage if we rely just on magic. That being said a normal well could be poisoned, I just don't think it's a good idea to rely solely on one thing. Especially when there will be so many people that would want to see us dead."

"You see what I mean?" Verona leant forward to look at Kal. Kal nodded once and looked forward. When Anton tried to get an answer out of Verona she said nothing and patted his side. A strange feeling tickled at the back of his head.

Their group began the slow ascent up the ridge. Though only a modest increase in gradient its effects were obvious. Still, it wasn't much of a ridge and they would soon be in sight of Atros. At least this time the air was devoid of the rumble of lightning.

Anton's eyes wandered aimlessly through the group until he found the Beastkin girls. They had done very well bearing the brunt of the Goblin attack on the rear. He would hear what they had to say later but what caught his eye the most was the blood staining their skin, especially Rasha and Eider. Irso had avoided most of the blood but they were all covered in it. Most had been wiped away, they had used a good portion of their water supply to remove the worst of it but their skin was still stained red with blood.

I'm sure I could make a water stone quite easily but I'd have to have a cutoff point. Otherwise the whole world would flood. Maybe. I'm not sure if they do last forever. Maybe it fails once the caster is dead? Since there are only two in the world I'm not eager to find out. But all that blood...

Anton gently nudged Verona. "I've asked before but how comfortable are you wearing a mask to fight?"

Verona loudly tapped the helmet hanging loose around her neck. "This thing's saved me from a few nasty hits. I'm fine with it. Or do you mean something like Kal's white and green mask?"

"That one. So you don't accidentally taste the blood."

"Oh..."

"Where did you get that anyway?" Cetina asked.

"From someone in Qaiviel." Kal looked to Anton for permission to speak further. Anton gestured that it was her decision. "They gave that to me so I wouldn't have to wear cloth around my face. That way I wouldn't be thrown out of a big city or someone thinks that I'm a beggar and an easy target."

"But it still attracts attention."

Kal chuckled, a faint smile on her face. "A lot less than if they saw my real face. Normally they just give one look, see that I'm with Anton and that's it."

"And you say my clothes are too bright."

"You aren't going to be hanged from a tree if they see your clothes." Kal smiled bitterly.

Cetina opened her mouth but thought better of it. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology and looked forward.

"Anyway." Verona coughed loudly. "I don't have a problem with it. It'd make things a lot safer for me. But I don't think anyone can make something like that here. And I don't want one made out of steel or leather."

An inappropriate image flashed thought Anton's mind. He didn't know how he felt about it, something to deal with later. Verona frowned at his internal conflict.

"Do they sell stuff like that in Bebbezzar?" Anton asked. "A mask like Kal's, not..."

Cetina, thankfully, didn't understand. Neither did Verona but Kal had an inkling. She had once stolen clothes from an establishment that catered to many whims and potential sins.

"I don't think you're going to find it at a general store but there could very well be some." Cetina chuckled. "A lot of strange items find their way to Bebbezzar."

"Oh." Verona pulled on his sleeve. "Get me one like Kal's. That way it'll look less suspicious and I'll look really awesome when I charge into battle."

Verona laughed as heroic imaginations circled through her head. If anything she looked a little delirious.

Anton let his tense breath loose as they reached the top of the ridge. Atros, a small bastion against the wilderness sat perfectly safe behind its many stone walls. Already construction of the next layer was beginning with carts laden with stone moving through Atros. Even the buildings were rising at an impressive rate. He even saw a few that appeared to be multiple stories tall rising in the newest ring. It was truly amazing what a few extra hands could do. Anton made a note to visit everyone and see how the new citizens were fitting in. Verona and Kal smiled at him, the tranquillity broken by a horn blasting from Atros.

"What now?" Jeff pushed his way to the front. The Beastkin and Seocurians didn't understand what that meant but quickly picked up on their distress.

The horn sounded three times, three short bursts. Anton found it odd that the villagers weren't flying into a panic to gather their weapons. They retreated into the safety of the walls but only at the behest of guards waving them inside.

Another three short horn blasts came from Atros. Jeff scratched his bald head. "We decided to improve the warnings. One time when Raston came back we thought it was a Goblin attack. Everyone panicked for nothing."

"You seem rather calm," Anton said.

"Three short horn blasts means something's coming but they aren't sure what it is. But it isn't hostile. At least yet. If they do they'll blast the horn, one long blast, over and over."

Three quick horns cut through the murmurs of the villagers.

"But we should still hurry," Jeff said. "It might be Raston. He might have word of what's happening in Qaiviel."

"I'm getting a little worried that we haven't heard anything from Duchess Belinda in some time." Anton mused.

"What's happening, Anton?" Eider pushed her way through the bunched up villagers. "Is Atros under attack? Again?"

"I don't think so, Eider." Anton patted the Cobra's cool shoulder. "But we need to get a move on."

"Start running," Jeff yelled. "If you fall behind you'll be doing laps with me for the next ten days."

Anton hoped that didn't extend to them.

---[]---

Anton found his breath short when they reached the outermost wall of Atros. The run had been gruelling but they had made it very quickly. Some had fallen behind but given their state they didn't care about Jeff's threat of intensive exercise. Anton didn't want them to have a heart attack after all this.

"They're coming from the east!" A guard on top of the gate yelled at Anton. "A whole lot of them."

"Who?" Anton gasped to breathe.

"I don't know. But I'm sure Raston's with them. They don't appear to be enemies." The guard shrugged. "At least for now."

"Thanks." Anton waved his hand. "We'll be there soon."

"They haven't reached the gate yet. If you hurry you'll beat them to it."

Anton gave another wave and the guard began running back to the east along the wall.

"Fucking hell." Verona, red-faced, heaved a deep breath. "That was shit." She pulled him down. "And we need to get those bra things made and soon. Mine were killing me the whole way. Bouncing and bouncing. Think of my pain!"

Anton hadn't noticed this time. His eyes drifted to Rasha and Ulyaa, the other two who could suffer the most. They too were puffing breaths but there was a pain underneath their face. Idle hands did their best to massage the area without being seen.

"Another time," Anton said. "Jeff, Avery. Are you two coming?"

"Sure am," Jeff said, Avery silently agreed. "I need to know what's happening and not be left in the dark."

"And everyone else?" Cetina asked.

"Right..." Jeff turned to the breathless guards as the last stragglers caught up. "Everyone new, good work today. I need you to return your weapons to the armoury. Then...Take a break. We'll handle this. Everyone else come with us to the western gate."

The villagers quickly split into two groups. Those that were new hanged back, eager to catch their breath, while Jeff and Avery led the others into Atros. Just as Anton turned to follow he heard a light thudding on the ground. The Beastkin girls approached them, apprehension clear on their faces.

"What about us?" Ulyaa asked softly.

"For now do as Jeff says and return your weapons and armour. If this goes bad you don't want to be anywhere near it."

"We can fight," Rasha spoke proudly, holding her spear tight. Strangely even Eider agreed with her. "We held the Goblins back."

"Goblins without any weapons. Look." Anton raised both his hands. "For my sake, and everyone else's, please do as you've been told. Please. I'll see you all after this is dealt with."

"Let's not be silly," Irso said. Her crackle had only increased with her laboured breathing. "We aren't soldiers."

The other three agreed. Anton gave a curt nod as they ran towards the western gate. The villagers inside held a strange mixture of nervousness and apprehension mixed with a nonchalance as they continued their everyday tasks. Anton noted that many stayed in groups and had weapons within easy reach.

"Anyone want to take any bets?" Verona cheerfully laughed. "I wonder if it's a hundred wandering Beastkin, ready to throw themselves at Anton."

"No!" Kal realized that she had been played and covered her reddening skin. "That's my thing." Kal turned to Anton. "What did Shawn and Jocelyn say about the Old Gods?"

"That they were sending help." Anton shrugged. "That it wasn't going to be like Kal unless I was into beards or stealing someone's wife."

"Those both sound icky." Verona chuckled. "I've got no idea who that's supposed to be."

"Sorry, Anton." Cetina smiled bitterly. "But that's not much to go on."

"Only one way to find out."

Jeff and Avery cleared a path through the busy afternoon streets, Anton merely followed closely behind. Upon reaching the final wall Jeff ordered his men to position themselves behind the gate while Avery and his archers took up positions along the wall. Everyone wore steel and cloth padded armour. If it came down to a fight they wouldn't be walked over. Unless they were powerful mages.

Please don't tell me it's the Strega witches. We were supposed to be protected. If they really want to attack us...

Anton prayed with all his might that his fears were unfounded as they moved onto the wall. Several archers and crossbowmen cleared a space and moved further down the line, giving them a clear view of what was approaching.

"Okay..." Verona titled her head. "Since when were there Seocurians in Qaiviel?"

Verona wasn't entirely wrong with her assumption. A little over two hundred people approached in three distinct divisions. Anton mumbled an eye enhancement prayer.

The first group in the middle was Raston and Qaiviel bondsmen and a few Atros Guards. They looked happy to see Atros, the relief clear on all their faces but most of all on Raston. Not a hint of concern anywhere.

The second group of about thirty men and women, upon first observation, could be mistaken for Seocurians. Their skin, however, was a slightly lighter shade, somewhere between Loretta and Kal. Shoulder length perfectly straight jet black hair occasionally fluttered out from a thick dark green cloak. Though the cloaks hid most of their body he didn't miss the outlines of weapons hanging from their waist. Judging by their size they were large daggers or short swords. Each had a large bow on their back made from an extremely dark wood marbled with red streaks. One of the cloaked figures, very close to Raston, turned their head to speak to him, pointing at Atros. Raston replied and pointed straight at Anton. The person nodded and removed their hood. A woman, perhaps in her middle to late thirties emerged. While she was quite beautiful Anton's eyes were drawn to her ears. They were as long as Kal's.

An elf.

Anton readied his magic but forced himself to calm.

Just take a few deep breaths. They don't look like Wood Elves, since Nithroel is supposed to resemble them. Or perhaps the other way around. Bertram told me there were many types of elves: Fire elves, which are gone, Desert elves that presumably live in the desert, And...

“Dark Elves,” Anton mumbled.

“Their ears are almost as big as mine,” Kal said, an idle hand reached up. “Are they good or bad?”

“Nithroel…” Verona grumbled. Her hands gripped hard on the wall. “But she’s only interested in the Wood Elves, right Kal?”

“Yeah…” Kal looked at Anton.

“I don’t think they’re with her.” Anton rubbed his beard. “If they were it’d be a violation…”

“A violation of what?” Cetina asked, a deep frown on her face.

“A deal that we made with Nithroel, the Goddess of the Forest.” Anton began. Cetina missed a breath, it wasn’t every day that a bargain was made with a god. “She tried to destroy us, so to stop things from escalating further we agreed to stay out of each other’s way.”

“That’s…” Cetina blinked furiously.

“You get used to it.” Kal chuckled, Cetina still looked more than a little shocked.

Anton looked at the third group of about fifty people. While it appeared they were using Raston’s group as a human barrier they didn’t appear hostile, some were even speaking with the Dark Elves, if that’s what they were. At first, Anton thought they were children, fat children. A second glance proved him very wrong. They were Dwarves, no other words existed in his mind to describe them. About thirty had impressive beards reaching halfway down to their rotund bellies. Their forearms were exposed, great muscles bulged against their cut and scar-riddled skin. None waddled but rather strutted with strength and an overwhelming sense of confidence. They too wore cloaks, dark grey that reached to their feet, but Anton saw the axes at their sides. Several had large two-handed axes on their backs. Those without beards had small but well-made crossbows and a single axe on their hips. Anton felt a little ashamed to only then realize they were women and not young dwarves that had yet to grow a beard. Their clothing hugged their bodies tight but gave them an impression of all being rotund, rather than having more distinctive curves like a human.

“And Dwarves…That part makes sense now.” Anton smiled. “That’s definitely the beard thing Shawn was talking about. But the stealing part…”

“That person talking to Raston looks like their boss,” Kal said.

Anton deactivated his eye enhancement. One quick look at Kal and it was clear she was using the same enhancement he was, her eyes and head were almost perfectly still. Violent illness would result if she moved even slightly.

“Guess that the Dark Elf right behind her is her husband then.” Verona chuckled. “Look like they’ve got a decent build on them.”

The lead Dark Elf ran a hand through her jet black hair. She had some sort of band around her forehead, a protector, but Anton knew that Verona was looking lower than that. It was hard to determine their exact figure underneath a mixture of a dark padded cloth and black leather but Anton knew that at least the women had bodies suitable for archery. There was little to differentiate between them, if one just looked at their bodies, apart from the women being slightly shorter and having wider hips.

“Perhaps,” Anton said. “But I don’t think those bows are just for show.”

“Neither are those axes from those Dwarves.” Kal mused.

“I thought that’s what they were.” Cetina smiled. “My father pointed them out to me once. They were selling weapons and armour to mercenaries in Alcanares. And they were paying huge prices for anything that had. I remember a small shield went for several gold coins.”

“Master craftsmen then?” Anton patted the hard stone wall. “And the Gods said they would be sending help. Fifty will surely be a great help. And thirty expert archers are just a bonus. But…”

“But what?” Verona tilted her head.

“I get the feeling it won’t be as simple as that.”

---[]---

Anton, Verona, Kal and Cetina walked out of Atros to meet the new arrivals. Jeff ran in front of them with fifty well-armed villagers. They stopped about fifty meters from the gate and signalled for Anton to do the same.

“So how do we do this?” Jeff asked, forming his men into a rough line.

“I think it’ll be best just to play it by ear,” Anton replied. “First impressions are important but if they’ve been travelling with Raston long enough they’ll know we’re very much a frontier town cut off from the world. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to smooth over any mistakes we might make.”

Kal pulled on his hand. “What about me? Do I get my mask? I don’t know what they might think of a Beast-kin.”

“I think it might be a little late for that.” Anton nodded towards the approaching group, now about fifty meters away. “There’s no way they could miss your tail and ears.” He planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “Besides, once they get inside they’re going to see a lot of Beast-kin. Better for them to know right off the bat.”

“Right…”

Cetina frowned lightly at him but said nothing.

“Hello!” Raston shouted and waved. Even from this distance, Anton knew that he was relieved to be back, probably to spend some time relaxing with Dana. “I’m so glad to see you all. Oh, I didn’t think I’d see you back this time, Anton. How did it go? Did you make it to Seocuria?”

Anton waited until he was closer. “We did. We certainly did. It…It seems like you have brought some new friends with you as well.”

Raston waited until he was a few meters away before replying. “Yeah…It’s a strange story. But we’ve travelled together since Maxill. There was a whole bunch of Green Goblins that tried to attack us on the way back, about eighty I think.”

One of the Dwarves nodded, his arms folded showing off the muscles that ran along his squat body. Of all the Dwarves he appeared to have the most expensive clothes, fine stitching and an impressive set of metal bands on his finely groomed beard.

"The little buggers tried to take us in the night." The dwarf spoke with a deep voice, perhaps with a slight tinge of a Scottish accent. "They're quick and hide in the bushes really easily. Not much more than wooden sticks but...I’m thankful that we had the elves with us."

The Dark Elf woman chuckled, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm glad that you made it back in one piece," Anton said. "But before we go any further I think we should get the introductions in order. My name is Anton, this is Jeff, the commander of the Atros military."

Such as it is.

"And these lovely ladies are Verona, Kal and Cetina."

Anton received a bump from Verona and Kal. He understood his potential mistake when he looked at Cetina. Verona silently chuckled as Anton endeavoured to move on.

"Anton..." The dwarf turned to his fellows, a few murmured something in hushed whispers. He rubbed his bear as a smile grew over his weathered face. "It seems that my mad visions were true." He laughed and smiled at the other Dwarves. "And you called me crazy."

"You still are." A female Dwarf to his side snipped.

"Oh hush you." He slapped her behind loudly. Her face turned scarlet in an instant before she returned the strike. He simply laughed. "Forgive my wife. We often fight like this. My name is Umikgruid of the Dragongaurd Clan. And this is my troublesome-"

"Troublesome?" She raised a brow, put a foot forward before leaning back, her arms folded. "I seem to recall that you spent the whole summer trying to woo me."

Umikgruid laughed. "And it worked."

She sighed but couldn't help the smile that crept over her face. "Oh dear. My name is Gosthilda. Of the Dragongaurd Clan. It is a pleasure to meet you all." She attempted a curtsy.

"We have travelled far to find you and your city." Umikgruid began. "Even I was starting to think it was madness that I saw in the flames...I'm so glad it's not."

"And why have you come so far?" Anton asked. "I've heard the Dwarven Isles are a considerable distance away."

"It..." Umikgruid looked to his wife, both held pursed lips and awkward faces. "It's quite a tale. Quite a tale."

"We can talk further once we get inside the safety of the walls. But before we do that..."

The Dark Elf woman straightened her back. "I am Ceccitol, of the Duskreaver Clan." She spoke with grace and diction, her voice smooth and mature. "As you can see I am a Dark Elf. This is my husband, Tuccac."

Tuccac waved gently. He looked slightly younger than Ceccitol, perhaps barely twenty in human terms, but Anton could tell that he was an accomplished warrior simply by the way he stood, his hands never left his weapons and his eyes were constantly watching them for any potential hostile action. At least that's how it felt.

"And these are my loyal clan warriors. They have all pledged their service to me, and came with me across human lands. Even though..."

Tuccac gently held Ceccitol’s hand. "We will follow you no matter where you lead us. That is what we all pledged to you."

"The..." Cetina spoke softly yet caught everyone's attention. "The Shadow Isles are some way off the coast of Bebbezzar. So why have you travelled through Bebbezzar and Qaiviel to get here?"

"I thought you were a Bebbezarian." Cecittol smiled at Cetina. "I wouldn't forget those colours. But...I, we, wouldn't have made this journey if we had any other choice. Stratos told me that I would find salvation here. And that is why I have come."

"Sounds pretty bad," Verona mumbled.

"It is, clanswoman."

"I..." Verona restrained herself. Ceccitol tilted her head slightly.

"However, Stratos said nothing of a Beastkin." Cecittol nodded at Kal. Kal held her ground but Anton felt that she wanted to move behind him.

"Kal is actually a half breed. Human and Beastkin. And there are many Beastkin living in Atros." Anton took a shallow breath. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Umikgruid and Ceccitol looked at one another confused. Eventually they shrugged dismissively.

"Doesn't matter to me, human." Umikgruid laughed. "It's only your kind that cares so much about that stuff."

"So are there Beastkin in the Dwarven Isles?" Anton asked. Kal appeared hopeful.

"I...No." Umikgruid scratched his head and looked away, unable to look them in the eye. "No. No."

"I don't understand it either." Ceccitol faintly shook her head. "I've read the ancient books of the United Kingdom. Humans and Beastkin fought side by side. It was only when it collapsed did everything turn out the way it has."

"Yes...I intend to right some of those wrongs." Anton smiled. "But we could be talking all day if we don't get a move on. Please, follow us inside. We have food and water, I'd you are running low-"

"Do you have any beer?" Umikgruid expectantly asked. "It's been an age..."

"We don't have beer but Zac makes some very strong alcohol." Anton looked over the Dwarves squat forms. "I don't know if it's what you'd like but it's all we've got."

"After this long, I'd settle for some piss weak wine." Gosthilda glared at Umikgruid but he made no apology.

"Zac might not be happy that everything's gone," Jeff spoke softly. "I know there isn't much left after last night."

"He'll recover." Anton chuckled. "Now. Accommodation for those travelling with you might be a little difficult, we've had a few problems and there simply aren't enough places to sleep. You may have to bunch up for tonight."

"Nothing new." Umikgruid waved down his concerns. "We've all had to do it. Dark Elves turn out to be good singers."

Ceccitol smiled and, while it was difficult to see, a faint redness worked its way along her ears.

"Excellent. I'd like to speak with you in more detail about why you've come. In private. But please come in, and welcome to Atros."

The Dwarves and Dark Elves breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Whatever troubled them, a part of that journey was now over. Their words did not fill Anton with confidence that it was going to be simple. Clearly they had travelled long and far to find them. That alone worried Anton the most.

Anton stood to the side and allowed them to pass. They spoke in hushed whispers as they passed, Anton couldn't make it out but it didn't appear hostile or rude. So it was at least a start. Anton’s eyes drifted to Raston at the lead of the new humans.

"Raston!" Anton yelled. "Hang back a moment! I want to speak with you."

Raston smiled and waved to the slightly apprehensive former bondsmen as he left the group of humans. To them, he was probably their only lifeline. To be truly alone in a foreign land is never a comforting thought.

"Is everything going well in Atros?" Raston asked as he approached. "When I left the Goblins were starting to come over the hill."

"Well, they got close enough that they had to close the gates." Anton began. "And then they attacked the wall. None got it but it was pretty close when we arrived."

"And Dana? Is she still alright?" Raston asked softly. Was he still embarrassed by their relationship?

"She's fine." Verona chuckled. "She rode out to meet us."

"Oh thank the gods." Raston chuckled. "I kept having terrible dreams."

"I actually wanted to know how Maxill and Qaiviel are doing." Anton began walking back into Atros. "Apparently we haven't heard anything in some time."

"Everything seemed normal." Raston held his scruffy chin. "Maxill is now doing really well, lots of trade and the people look happy too. The trader guy that you know there is doing really well too."

"Good for him." Anton smiled. "After all the shit he's been through when Belinda wasn't running the joint. But what about her? Anything?"

"I was speaking with one of the guard captains there, Hemiskr I'm pretty sure his name was, and he said they should have been back by now. Duchess Belinda had no desire to head to the capital so it makes sense that she would want to leave."

"Anything strange happenings nearby?"

"Not that I heard. Everything seems to be calm."

"Right..." Anton looked at the backs of the Dwarves and Dark Elves. "I get the feeling that we won't have much of a chance to investigate any time soon."

“It’s quite a story.” Raston smiled bitterly. “But I’ll let them tell you, otherwise I’m sure I’ll get it wrong. I need to keep up with them. A lot of people, humans, there don’t have any idea what they’re about to see.”

“We’ll see you later then.” Anton gently waved as Raston rejoined the small convoy.

Anton turned to the girls. "Do either of you know anything about the Dwarves or Dark Elves?"

"Not much." Kal smiled bitterly. "Only that the Dwarves are fantastic builders and craftsmen. As for the Dark Elves...They're good with a bow? I'm sorry, Anton, but I didn't hear much about them when I was still in Seocuria and Graterious."

"It's fine." Anton did his best to placate her. "Cetina?"

"The same about the Dwarves. I know that each Dwarf clan owns a mountain in the Dwarven Isles. But I've never heard of the Dragongaurd clan before." Cetina scratched her chin as she turned her eye to the Dark Elves. "I know I've heard of the Duskreavers before. I think they control the most southwestern island and they trade a lot with Bebbezzar. They might be one of the few that actually do."

"An isolationist society." Anton mused. "Then they must be truly desperate to come all this way."

Verona chuckled as she leant forward, peering around Anton to smile at Cetina. "And you thought you wouldn't be much help outside of haggling."

Cetina smiled and looked at the ground. "I only know a little bit."

"But it's very important." Anton began. "We now have a vague idea of what to expect now. And I would have gone in completely blind if it weren't for you two."

Kal and Cetina smiled warmly at him, Verona chuckled at the sight.

"Those Dark Elves are pretty, aren't they?" Verona asked, a finger dragged against her lips.

"Oh stop it." Kal sighed. "Anton's not interested in married women."

"One's that aren't married to him. Right?"

Kal chuckled. "Right."

Anton gently wormed his hands into theirs as they returned to Atros.

Chapter 117 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Cooperation

Chapter 117 Pt.2:

Anton took his seat in the Council Chamber. Verona and Kal took their positions, after Verona sneaked some blood from him, while Cetina stood behind. She only had her sword with her, her tower shield was simply too large and cumbersome to wield inside the small room, but it would be enough. Especially if she fell into her fighting trance. Of the council Jeff, Bertram and Sybil joined them. Anton felt they had done this before when Kal had first arrived. They had come a long way since then. The weight on his finger was proof enough of that.

The leaders of the Dwarves and Dark Elves joined them. The others were waiting outside while eating and drinking. Anton assured them that nothing would happen to them but they made it clear they could handle themselves if a fight was thrust upon them.

"I didn't expect to see so many Beastkin." Ceccitol eased into her chair. "I thought it was only going to be...Kal? Is that right?"

Kal curtly nodded.

"There's a little under five hundred here," Anton said. "Former slaves, now living with us as equal citizens."

"There's a lot of bad blood between your kinds." Umikgruid tapped on the wooden table. He gave his chair a wobble and appeared content with the craftsmanship.

"We'll work through it." Verona chuckled. "Even if it's just a day at a time."

"Just as strange as a clanswoman being here." Ceccitol mused. "How did you arrive in his service?"

Verona's eye twitched but she forced herself to remain calm. "I was born here. Apparently, my ancestors visited Atros and left someone behind. I'm not a clanswoman nor do I want to be. I'm from Atros. And that's that."

Ceccitol realized she touched a delicate topic and simply gave a nod. She didn't retreat into herself, her back remained straight and her face confident but Anton sensed a slight nervousness in her breath.

"Now I know that you didn't come all this way just to chat." Anton began. "And I would very much like to hear the reason why."

Umikgruid and Ceccitol looked at one another, judging who was going to go first. Their partners shared sympathetic looks. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

Umikgruid lightly shrugged. "I guess I'll go first then." He shifted nervously in his chair. "How much do you know of the Dwarves?"

"Very little." Anton turned to Bertram and Sybil.

"I've never met one before today," Sybil said.

"I've met a few." Bertram frowned lightly. "But it was very brief and a very long time ago. I think they were improving the royal treasuries security. Not that it made much of a difference in the end. As for where you live...Only that you live on the Dwarven Isles. Apart from that..."

"I didn't think you would." Umikgruid smiled. "We barely touch this land. Even the most adventurous Dwarf wouldn't leave the ports in Qaiviel or Bebbezzar."

"Qaiviel has Dwarves as well?" Anton asked.

"Oh yes. But not many. And most of them only live in the port cities. Bebbezzar isn't too bad but Qaiviel is weird. They don't pay very well and demand a lot."

"Not Graterious?" Verona asked.

Umikgruid pondered for a moment. "No. Oh, there might be one or two. But not many. It's too far to travel for the money."

"And yet you travelled all this way on foot." Anton raised a brow.

Umikgruid and Gosthilda shared a knowing look.

"Yes...We mainly do live on the Dwarven Isles. Dozens of mountains jut out of the sea in the middle of the ocean. Our ancestors tunnelled into them and we've lived there ever since. Each generation expands the tunnels and caverns while continuing to mine deeper and deeper. Hundreds of thousands of Dwarves live there now. They've reached so deep that they can cross from one mountain to the other without having to cross the sea in boats or bridges, but most still do."

"How can you grow your own food?" Anton asked. "Underground...You'd need your own light source. And a source of fresh water."

"We have both of those."

"But that's where the problems start," Gosthilda mumbled.

Umikgruid held her hand. "Our clan, the Dragongaurd...We...We lost our mountain hold."

Verona peered at their weapons left against the door. "How? Those look like very good weapons. And you've got good armour too. Don't tell me it was the Goblins?" Tucac's eye twitched once. "We've had enough of those things."

"No." Umikgruid sighed. "But that would make it easier. Our clan’s hold, well, it started sinking."

"How do you sink a mountain?" Verona looked to Anton. Anton had no honest idea.

"My grandfather said we dug down too much and weakened the mountain so it crumbled underneath its own weight." Umikgruid huffed. "But I'm sure that our clan was given the most unstable mountain. I found drawings of the Isles from before we lived there and our mountain looked like it was about to crumble anyway."

I don't know how you could determine that from a drawing. Perhaps there was a giant fissure running throughout it that they dug along, only weakening it further?

"I take it that all underground construction is now taken very seriously and delicately."

Umikgruid and Gosthilda nodded. "Very much so. But it is still happening. Anyway, they couldn't just leave us to die so the other clans took us in. Which was fine, until recently."

"The other clans want us out," Gosthilda grumbled. "After we lost our hold we had no choice but to work for the other clans. They pay us poorly and treated us like servants. But it was livable. Recently it's gotten really bad. We used to have a room, a small room, to ourselves but now everyone in our clan is living at three or four to a room. And it's still getting worse."

"Interesting.” Anton tapped his fingers on the table. “So what brought you here?"

"And how?" Verona asked. "If you don't have any money."

"We pooled together what we had for a single boat journey to Qaiviel," Umikgruid explained. "We had to sell...Many precious heirlooms of our clan but we managed to scrape enough together."

"But still, why?" Verona spoke softly.

Umikgruid shuffled in his chair. If anything he looked rather embarrassed. "One day, when I was using a forge to repair some armour I saw something in the flame. I'd never seen anything like it. My...Mind left my body. I soared through the mountain and through the sky, across the ocean to Qaiviel, past a forest and it stopped here. At a small city in a wilderness. I...And this is why everyone said I was crazy, I saw the Goddess of the Flame, Esperit. I couldn't understand what she said but I knew I had to come here."

The visions we've had have always been at night. Perhaps it's different for Dwarves? Or maybe Esperit really wanted to make sure the message got across.

"I thought he was mad." Gosthilda continued. "Especially when we found you slumped at the base of the fire having made a-" She coughed as Umikgruid reddened. "But every time he used a forge after that it happened. Even just looking at a flame. But when you said you were going to follow your vision they stopped. And when you told me it was stupid they came back."

"I asked one of our elders, a very smart Dwarf, and he said to go. So, I did. I was going to go alone but Gosthilda wouldn't let me. Everyone already knew what was happening to me and a few of us banded together and." Umikgruid clapped his hands. "And here we are."

"That is...An interesting story." Anton began. "But I don't have the strength to take a hold for you, if that's even possible for someone like me. Right now all I could offer is food and shelter."

"If I'm honest, that will do for now." Umikgruid shook his head. "We're all tired of fighting and toiling for scraps."

"How many are there of your clan anyway?"

"About one hundred and fifty thousand."

The room fell utterly silent. A pin falling would have sounded like an avalanche. Bertram was the first to make any noise.

"How many?" He squeaked out.

"A hundred and fifty thousand," Umikgruid spoke flatly. "More or less."

Bertram looked at Anton in sheer panic. "We can barely look after the three thousand we have now. It'll take time before we are ready for even another thousand let alone..." Bertram was starting to panic. "We only have one well, which we need to make another one soon, and the crops need time to grow too. And the homes, walls, clothes..."

Anton held his hand until Bertram began to calm. Sybil shuffled her seat closer a day gently rubbed his back.

Umikgruid’s face could only be described as apologetic. "Actually, once we cleared the forest we couldn't help but see the large mountain to the north."

"Mount Aspire?" Anton asked.

"I didn't know the name of it but I think it wouldn't be a bad place to start building our new hold. We have lots of experience with mining and tunnelling, not to mention any sort of metal or stone work." Umikgruid became increasingly excited, bouncing like a child. "I couldn't help but notice the state of your stone walls. It's pretty good for what tools you seem to have but I know that we could easily make something-"

Anton raised his hand. Instantly Umikgruid stopped.

"I...Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I offended your work but we Dwarves can't help ourselves when we see and talk about these sorts of things."

"It's not that." Anton smiled warmly to allay his concerns. "But Mount Aspire is off limits to everyone."

"Except for a small observation base on the other side," Jeff added quietly.

"Why? The Mountain looks stable. And it doesn't appear to be a volcano."

So they have those here.

"And if it was you wouldn't be living this close to it."

Guess there's been a Pompeii here too.

"It's what's below that's the problem," Kal said. "We followed a passage down into mountain after we'd removed some Rock Rats that were trying to make a nest. They had started to remove a blockage. We looked past it and we found a door."

"What?" The Dwarves turned to each other stunned.

"A flat stone door. With a stone crossbeam to keep it shut."

"That sounds like it could be Dwarven." Umikgruid stroked his beard. "But all the way out here?"

"That wasn't all." Kal continued. "Metal spikes had been rammed through the door into the surrounding stone. And..."

Kal frowned as she looked at Anton.

"And something had tried to get out," Anton said calmly. "The centre of the stone beam and almost been cut through. Huge gouges made by something with six claws were everywhere on the floor and sides. We quickly sealed it back up and haven't gone back down since."

"That definitely sounds Dwarven." Umikgruid frowned deeply. "No one else works with stone like we do. But it sounds like they did that in a hurry."

"Something came for them. Something from below. I don't know if the Dwarves, if that's what they were, dug too deep and found something they shouldn't have but I don't want to go down there and start poking around. Especially since whatever they found is likely still there."

"But it's been so long since any Dwarf truly lived outside of the Isles."

"Whatever that found was there before the Dwarves, living comfortably, and once they'd chased them out they'd go back to the way things were. I'm sure that they're still alive."

The Dwarves were very disheartened. To have come all this way and be told they cannot find respite...

Umikgruid took a deep breath and slapped the table, startling the otherwise quiet Dark Elves. "It's not like we have to live underground. We just feel safer without the open sky above our heads. I'm sure that we could live in human homes. Or Beastkin homes, if we needed too."

"It's not that intend to leave Mount Aspire as it is forever." Anton continued, hoping to garner some enthusiasm. "As things stand we could very well be killed by whatever lurks below. With what weapons we have right now."

"Ah." Kal said softly.

Verona leant back in her chair as Kal mouthed the word cannon. Verona understood and smiled at the Dwarves. That wasn't the best move.

"I have an idea. For a weapon. A weapon that will make others obsolete. But...Do you Dwarves have anything like an explosive? Something that creates a loud bang? Lots of smoke?"

"No." Umikgruid shook his head. "We do make some very good crossbows. Big ones too. Ballistaes. As big as this room. We use those to defend the holds and mount them on ships."

"How big is the bolt?" Anton asked.

"Bigger than you." Umikgruid laughed. "About ten of us need to load the damn thing. But nothing can withstand it. Except a big plate of Adamantium."

"Mining? That's all done with picks and shovels?"

Both Dwarves nodded.

"Well. My idea will be even stronger than that giant crossbow. And one the size of that crossbow,” Anton nodded to Gosthilda’s weapon resting against the wall. “Would easily kill someone in plate armour."

"Strange that such a thing comes from a small town miles from anywhere." Umikgruid pursed his lips. "And that no one has ever heard of such a thing before."

"I'm not exactly what you would call normal."

Verona chuckled. "You've got that right."

Kal smirked and a quick glance back revealed Cetina was as well.

"And these creatures wouldn't be able to stand up to these weapons. The mountain hold could be taken back one step at a time until they're all dead and the source plugged."

Umikgruid and Gosthilda shared an apprehensive look. It all sounded utterly bizarre and crazy, everything they had seen so far was. But. They had travelled hundreds of miles on a vision in a flame. It wouldn't be too hard to think this was the solution they so desperately sought.

"If...If such a thing is possible..." Umikgruid stared at the table. "Is it even possible to move our clan here? It's the size of a human capital city!"

"I have an idea for that." Anton chuckled. "And the best thing is that it shouldn't cost you a single copper coin."

Anton opened his hand and summoned a lightning and fire ball. The Dwarves and Dark Elves were shocked. Stunned almost.

"And I can do a lot more besides that." Anton patted Verona and Kal's thighs. "We all can."

"If you really can save our clan from being ground into nothing we will gladly work with you." Umikgruid received a nod from his wife. "I understand that you can’t pay us. Yet. But I’m sure that we can work something out.”

“I hope so too,” Anton said. “I think that your clan will of great help to Atros. There are some finer details that we’ll need to work through, specifics of what how we will interact. But, again, we can speak on that later.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Umikgruid breathed more easily. “I would be more than happy with my life if we could be free here.” He laughed. “You know, my great-grandfather said that humans and dwarves once lived and fought together. Humans controlled the surface, and I’m sure the Beast-kin were there as well, and we controlled the tunnels and mountains. He always looked so happy when he thought of those days.”

“By the way, how old are you?” Anton asked.

“I’m not sure how you humans measure time but about four, maybe four hundred and fifty cycles.” Umikgruid shrugged nonchalantly. “I think you call them winters. After a while, you stop worrying about it.”

“I’m not that old.” Gosthilda chuckled. “Umik was already old when he started to court me.”

Umikgruid rolled his eyes but made sure that she didn’t see.

Well, I guess even Dwarven women worry about their age being known. It’s just that they’re going to have a lot more time to worry about it than us. Especially when eighty would still be young for them.

“I really do hope that we can work together,” Anton said. “We do, and I know this might annoy Jonathan and Zac, but we do need better walls and buildings, better metal and stone working. Atros can’t just spread forever like it is right now.”

“We could easily help to make Atros a great city.” Umikgruid smiled. “If we could get our entire clan to safety Atros would shine miles above even the grandest human city. Literally and figuratively.”

Anton liked the bone that he was throwing out. “Multiple stories?”

“Oh yes.” Umikgruid smiled. “Ten, twenty or thirty of near unbreakable stone, it wouldn’t be a problem for us. We even have a few tricks to keep away beasts and monsters too, something that the human that we travelled with, Raston, said this city suffered a lot from.”

“That it does.” Anton rapped his fingers on the table. “But again, we need to discuss this at a later time. There is still another topic that we need to address.”

Anton looked at the Dark Elves, sitting patiently and perfectly still. Neither looked annoyed they had waited while he and the Dwarves chatted merrily away. Hopefully, they understood that someone had to go first. They didn’t seem like rude or arrogant people, unlike what Nithroel gave off.

“Sorry about that, Ceccitol.” Umikgruid chuckled. “I think we got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine.” She smiled warmly at the Dwarf. “I think we both understand that neither of our problems can be solved with a snap of our fingers.”

To be fair that’s sort of how we dealt with the Clansmen invading Qaiviel. Just walk in and use tons of magic.

Ceccitol moved her chair forward and rested her arms on the table. “Just like the Dwarves, I believe that you can help us. We’ve travelled very far through lands alien and sometimes hostile to us, even though our hearts and minds constantly worry about home. I received a vision from Stratos that you could help us push back the menace that threatens to overwhelm our homeland.”

“I must warn you that, just as I said to Umikgruid we are not very powerful. We have some powerful magic but no real industry or manpower to speak of.”

“I understand. But I still think that you can aid us.” Ceccitol took a deep breath. “The Shadow Isles are being over-run by an army of Goblins.”

“I knew it,” Verona mumbled.

Tuccac sighed and stared at the floor as Ceccitol opened her cloak and took out a small roll of paper. It wasn’t actually paper, instead some sort of animal hide, and held a roughly drawn map of several islands. A large and long island lay in the middle while eleven smaller islands, shaped nearly identically to the main island, surrounded the main. Each island were aligned the same way, as if someone had one massive island and simply removed the connecting parts. When he looked more closely there were small dotted lines between the small and main islands with several of the other smaller islands also connected.

“This is The Shadow Isles.” Ceccitol began. “It lies some distance away from Bebbezzar but it can be easily reached by ship. However it is difficult for anyone but the Dark Elves to find their way through the thick mist, hence its name, so very few come. And we kind of like it that way.”

“How big is it?” Anton asked. “Compared to what the Kingdoms and Empires?”

Ceccitol rubbed her chin. She maintained an air of grace and dignity even as her face frowned lightly. “I’m not sure. A Dark Elf could easily run across the width of one of the small islands well under a day. But we can move much faster than humans so…I don’t know.”

“Several miles at least,” Anton said. “And that makes the central island…very big. Okay, please talk me through what’s happening.”

“Tuccac? Could you please? You understand more about what’s happening about this than me.”

“Of course.” Tuccac drew a small thin blade from his hip. Cetina’s hand gripped tight on her sword but Tuccac merely smiled. “A long blade like that is too cumbersome in such a confined environment as this. You’d be better off with a dagger, or perhaps keep it drawn at all times?”

Cetina mumbled something, drew her sword, rested the tip on the wooden floor and kept her hand ready on the pommel. Anton flashed Tuccac a disapproving look, Ceccitol remained flat and emotionless while the Dwarves looked a little concerned, their hands moved slowly to their axes. Tuccac’s blade’s handle was constructed from the same wood as their bows, very dark marbled with streaks of red. It was a simple steel blade, not Chelium or Bosciycium. In fact, Anton hadn’t seen much of those metals even during their time in Graterious. Were they simply that rare and the Goblins of Mount Aspire lucky enough to steal rare weapons from the collapsing Kar Kingdom? Or were they made by the Dwarves that perhaps lived underneath the mountain? It was something that Anton resolved to ask later in private.

Tuccac tapped the point of the blade on one of the small islands, this one appeared to be slightly further away from the central island compared to the others.

"This is our home, where the Dusk Reaver’s call home. The other small islands are each controlled by a single clan while the central island belongs to almost twenty small clans, with the Mist Walkers in the very center." Tuccac smiled bitterly as he tapped the blade in the middle of the central island. "They rule over all the clans. But we are mostly autonomous. So long as we pay our tithes and keep our lands safe we are left alone."

"And a clan failed that task?" Anton asked softly.

Tuccac and Ceccitol nodded solemnly. "This island here." He trapped the small island opposite to the Dusk Reavers. "Was controlled by the Green Moon clan. Was. Somehow the few goblins that live on the Shadow Isles banded together on their island and started raiding villages."

A disgusting feeling grew in the pit of Anton’s stomach. He knew where this was going. So too did everyone else.

"At first they thought it was one of the mainland clans attacking them, these things happen from time to time. When they realized it wasn't Dark Elves it was too late. The Goblins attacked in great swarms and overran everything but the capital of the Green Moon clan. We don't know if it's still there but many were not inside its walls. I think you know what has happened to them."

"A truly horrifying existence," Anton mumbled. Tuccac agreed. "How many are we talking?"

"Goblins or kidnapped elves?"

"Both."

"As for the number of Goblins, I have no idea. Simply too many to count I’ve been told. As for the captive women, again I don't know. But...And correct me if I'm wrong, Ceccitol, but the Green Moon wasn't a particularly small clan."

She shook her head, folding her arms and pulling tight against her chest. "I don't know exactly but they were about the same size as our clan, maybe slightly smaller. That would give them...about thirty thousand Dark elves. So..."

"Around ten thousand would be women capable of bearing children," Anton said. "I don't know the specifics of Dark Elf biology but I'm going to assume it's roughly the same as a humans."

"Close enough. We live essentially double the length that you humans and Beastkin do. But it takes us one and a half cycles before we can give birth. And we are only fertile for one day every cycle."

"I..." Anton chuckled, remembering what his gods said about the Wood Elves and their reproduction. "I imagine you keep track of that very well."

"We need to," Ceccitol spoke sternly. "We have to, if our race is to survive. However, it's not particularly hard to miss. We undergo certain changes near our ovulation."

"While that is very fascinating," Anton interrupted during a lull. "And I am intrigued to learn more, I think it is best to focus on the Goblin threat for now."

"Mine will be coming soon," Ceccitol said. Her face was devoid of the normal grace and maturity she normally carried. A nervousness flashed over her face and hands when she revealed that fact. Very nervous. Even Tuccac was nervous. Anton decided to pretend that he didn't hear it and allowed Tuccac to continue.

"The Goblins." Tuccac tapped on the two small islands either side of the Green Moon's. "Breached the mainland but didn't spread out in all directions. Like we expected those mindless creatures to. They attacked these clans. And destroyed them."

Anton held his chin and leant back into his chair. Another thought was building. Verona started began before he could say anything.

"After losing an entire clan you let another two fall?" She threw her hands up in defeat. "How? You must have known what was coming for you."

It may not have been the most delicate way to put it but it needed to be asked. And it’s a question that you can ask but I can’t. It’s difficult to negotiate with someone that would ask such harsh questions but I can, even with you at my side. Good cop, Bad cop? Anyway, the Dark Elves look like capable warriors and there doesn’t appear to be a distinction between the sexes.

"The..." Tuccac clicked his tongue. "The Green Moon clan wasn't particularly liked by anyone. They were rude and arrogant, and often restored to raiding trading fleets from the Mycean City States travelling to Bebbezzar and beyond. All their ships were seized and their docks destroyed. They were bitter for generations and still thought themselves better than everyone else. Truth be told, I'm not sorry they are gone."

"Except now there are a billion Goblins running about your islands." Verona sank into her chair.

Tuccac couldn't refute her words. "The Dark Elves are insular, even one clan to another. Only ours really travels beyond the ports of Bebbezzar. And even then not very far."

"So it was difficult to form a united front against them?" Anton asked. "Since your clans are so decentralized and autonomous. And initially, no one cared that a hated clan had fallen?"

Both Dark Elves were quite embarrassed by their fellows. Because of their inaction now, hundreds of thousands of Dark Elves could be at risk.

"I certainly shouldn't belittle you for something in the past," Anton said. "But I assume now there is a united front?"

"Not...Exactly." Tuccac shook his head. "The Mist Walkers have ordered all the Island Clans to send their warriors into battle but almost none from the mainland."

"This should be good," Verona mumbled.

"They think that we are more savage and wild." Ceccitol sighed. "Lesser. And think we are expendable. Not to mention they are worried that if the surrounding mainland clans lost their warriors they would rebel and overthrow them."

"Politics." Anton rubbed his face. "I can imagine that didn't go down well with the Island Clans. So what's the state of things now? Or at least when you left."

"When we left the Goblins were just starting to push south from the three islands." Tuccac gently tapped the map. "And this small island here, using the land bridge. The fighting is fierce, bloody and constant. Every day they push us back. And anyone that falls is devoured or taken away. It isn't looking good."

"I hate to say it but it sounds planned." Anton leant towards the map. "Coordinated. As coordinated as the Goblins could ever be. Do you know if there's an Awakened leading them? That might explain their behaviour."

"Oh," Kal mumbled. "That would make some sense."

"What is an Awakened?" Ceccitol asked. "I haven't heard of this before."

"They're these puss riddled Goblins capable of magic," Kal said. "And they're some sort of leader."

"The normal Goblin hierarchy doesn't seem to apply when they are present," Anton said. "I'm sure those Orange and Purple Goblins were put in Fort Acidava’s tunnels on purpose."

"I have heard of something like that." Tuccac held his chin. "But I've never seen one. On the Shadow Isles, we only have to deal with the Yellows and Greens. Like most humans have to."

"Any Ghlotsm?" Bertram shivered at Anton's words.

"No. But I was in a Bebbezarian port when a horde wandered by. I have never seen one on the Shadow Isles before."

"It was just a thought. But if there is an Awakened leading them, a real possibility, you'll have to be creative to defeat it. Either that or just stronger than the hordes at its disposal. So there's no way to block off an island and deal with them one at a time?" Anton asked.

Tuccac shook his head. "No. The land bridges aren't true bridges, but a line of stones and rocks that submerge during the high tide. Over the cycles we have made it easy for carts and travellers to cross. So the Goblins would have no problems crossing them when the water recedes."

"Well, I suppose I could use my magic to destroy them." Both Dark Elves raised a brow to his words. "Divide and conquer. I could, perhaps, isolate each of the islands and then they can be dealt with one at a time. You could focus your forces and drive them back."

"The land bridges are very strong." Ceccitol frowned. "And made from huge granite and obsidian stones. The magic needed to destroy a segment so they couldn't cross-"

"You don't think that Anton can’t do it?" Verona sniggered. "That the Old Gods sent you here for no reason? No. He can do a lot more than that. Five thousand dead Clansmen and Orcs in an instant. Does that sound like enough?"

They looked at Anton with incredulity, even as Kal nodded seriously to her words.

"About five thousand. But I could do it."

Especially if I can get those books from Ferula. There are more ways to use magic than what little I know. I'm sure that if I knew some sort of earth magic this would be a piece of cake.

"Our clan’s warriors are bearing the brunt of their assault on the mainland." Ceccitol gripped her fingers tight. "During the day it took us to ready a ship to reach Bebbezzar I learned that over fifty warriors had fallen on that day alone. Another thirty the day before. If it continues there won't be anyone left. And then they'll start sending those too weak, old or young to fight. And I will not let that happen."

"I understand-"

"If you are willing to help us fight back and destroy the Goblin menace..." Ceccitol took a deep breath to calm herself. "I am prepared to give you my body to do with whatever you wish."

Anton heard the roof timber groan, contracting as the midday sun's heat radiated away. It was all that he could hear. Verona and Kal let out a squeak but no words. Anton's mind finally ground through her words.

He blinked hard and raised his hand. "I-"

"If you find me insufficient I can offer you my two daughters as well. I know they are still innocent. You may think they are young but I can assure you they are very beautiful."

"I-"

"My son too, if you so desire."

"Stop. I-"

"I know of several Dark Elf women that would offer themselves willingly to see their warriors come home."

"Please stop!" Anton blurted out before Ceccitol could speak any more.

Anton took a deep breath to calm himself. "I was a bit surprised that you would go that far to get my support."

Tuccac, during the whole exchange, barely restrained his anger. But not all of it was directed at Anton. His anger was thrown at the situation they found themselves in, where they had to potentially offer up their son and daughters to get the help they needed. Once the initial shock had worn off Anton it only made him more concerned about their situation, about how dire it must truly be. And how much had been hidden from them.

"But before you say anything more, Ceccitol, I was going to try and help as best I can. Regardless of you offering yourself or your children."

And neither of you really want to do that, even if means getting my help. Even if you are pretty and I'm certain your daughters are as well...

Anton gripped his hand and focused his mind. "But I would need something in return. We have so much to do and little time in which to get it done, I can't just help you out of the goodness of my heart. Even though I would like to. There are just some realities that I cannot ignore."

Ceccitol closed her eyes and mumbled a silent thank you. Anton, for some silly reason, felt a bit miffed that she was glad he had refused her offer. On some petty level, he didn't think he was unattractive.

"Offering...Myself and my children was our idea." Ceccitol began, relief clear on her face. "I have been given the authority to offer seven thousand Dark Elves from the Dusk Reavers to settle in Atros. And whomever else from the other clans you manage to convince."

Bertram coughed to gain his attention.

"I understand that we couldn't possibly handle that many new people." Anton smiled warmly at the slightly panicking Bertram. "But I presume that those people won't be coming until the threat is dealt with?"

"Yes. We could not do it before. They would accuse us of desertion and hunt down every Dusk Reaver in retaliation."

"They'd probably think you'd all just left on your ships." Anton chuckled. "We will help you both, as best we can. I cannot promise any miracles but we will do everything in our power."

"Excellent." Umikgruid clapped and rubbed his hands together. "It's been a long time since the Dragongaurd clan actually had some hope for the future. We will honour our agreement. No true Dwarf would ever renege on a deal once struck."

"Neither shall we." Ceccitol smiled as Tuccac took his seat. "And thank you for not taking my personal offer."

Anton smiled, he could do little else. If he said the wrong thing his body would become a pin cushion.

"We need to have a private discussion about how to proceed from here. There are many plans that will have to now change." Anton turned back to Cetina. "Cetina? Could you please show them outside, for a moment, and then come back?"

"Hmm? Oh. Right." Cetina chuckled. "I wanted to do this so...If you four could follow me, please. I'm sure it won't be long. And I’m sure there will be food and drink for you too."

Cetina led them through the door and outside the main hall. When the Dwarves left their chairs they almost disappeared from view. Anton didn't get a chance to see their legs but he would have certainly chuckled mentally at their short stubby legs dangling back and forth. Only when he heard the door close and Cetina returned did he relax.

"Bloody hell." Anton slid down his chair. "When they said they weren't sending help I thought it might be a bit easier this time."

Kal frowned lightly. "Was I difficult?"

Anton didn't know how to respond without digging a deeper hole so he kissed her. She appeared to forgive him.

"A lot has just landed on your plate," Bertram said.

"Our plate," Sybil added. "There's more to this than just Anton."

"Yes." Bertram sighed and rubbed his neck. "But I thought things would be difficult enough with just rescuing and housing more Beastkin. And now, now thousands of Dark Elves, hundreds of thousands of Dwarves."

"We can't just turn them away." Verona folded her arms in a huff. "Not after they've come all this way."

"It's just so much stuff that we're going to have to organize." Bertram took a deep breath. "I mean we can do it but it will be difficult."

"If you need help, take it." Anton held Verona's shoulder. "Neither of you can do all of this by yourselves forever."

"It might be time to start teaching some smart people how to run some things," Bertram said to Sybil. "It'll make our days less stressful."

Now we’re finally getting some bureaucracy. Now we just need to make sure it doesn't become bloated and unwieldy. That's going to be a huge challenge. Probably as difficult as what we’re about to do.

"So..." Bertram turned to Anton. "What is the plan now?"

"Firstly, we need to finish work on the portal." Anton began. "Without that, we can't do any of this. But if we get it working we can come back and forth as we please."

"Where are we going to put the one in Atros?" Kal asked. "If someone didn't want us to come back they'd just need to move a stone and then we'd be stuck hundreds of miles away."

"We'll make two sets and hide one in our house. That way we can always come back here."

"And beat the crap out of whoever moved the stone." Verona smacked a fist into her hand.

"You mentioned this portal over dinner," Bertram said. "I'm surprised no one currently has one."

"Perhaps the big Dwarf clans do. When we get there we'll see what they have to offer us."

"After the portal?" Verona asked.

"Then we head back to Jaka, after telling Wilford that we're coming. If he doesn't show we'll use the portal and come back to Atros and travel through Qaiviel. But I’m sure he’ll turn up. Then we'll stop at Koumore and meet Ferula."

"I'd forgotten about her." Verona chuckled.

"And get the books on our magic as well as the recipe of the blue explosive powder. Then we'll make port at somewhere in Seocuria, not Danafra, and rent a warehouse and set up another portal. So we can start to buy and liberate Beastkin."

"They'll be happy to hear that." Kal's tail swooned through the air in delight, even her ears pricked up.

"Then we'll head to the Shadow Isles and help the Dark Elves. In the meantime, we'll send Wilford to the Dwarven isles with a set of portal stones so that can keep going while we help the Dark Elves."

"It's going to be a lot of people coming here all at once," Bertram said. "But...We'll manage. We always have."

"If we're short of any supplies we could just buy them." Anton shrugged. "We have a lot of money, which isn't doing anyone any good unless we can actually spend it, so why not buy all the tools and materials we need. Within reason, of course. No point in buying timber when we can use a portal and get our own basically instantly. Not to mention we can start selling some goods too. More money is only a good thing."

"I." Cetina coughed lightly. "Would it be possible to stop by Bebbezzar on the way to the Shadow Isles? I know it's out of the way but I would like to see home, if only a little bit."

"Absolutely. We'll need to stop there for supplies. I think we could take a few hours to explore a port city."

Cetina smiled warmly. "Thank you."

"Could you please bring them back in for us, Cetina? I just hope they like our plan."

Cetina nodded and walked to the door.

Verona leant close to his ear. "What do you think her daughters look like?"

"Oh, stop it you." Anton gently slapped her thigh.

Verona simply laughed, Kal shook her head, as they waited to see their reaction.

Chapter 118 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Groundwork for Depature

Chapter 118 Pt.1:

"That sounds reasonable." Umikgruid nodded slowly. The Dwarf had his arms folded and eyes closed in deep thought. "All things considered it's pretty good."

"I'm glad you like it," Anton replied. "I intend to help everyone but the Dark Elves are under immediate threat."

"How long before we can get back to the Shadow Isles?" Ceccitol asked. "It took us some time to get here. For every day that passes our warriors and people die in droves."

"If we go by horse it should take us seven, maybe eight days to reach Jaka and The Snowberry. After that, I don't know how long it will take."

"Maybe you could use your magic on the sails?" Verona offered. "That could make the whole ship go much faster."

"It's definitely worth a shot." Anton patted Verona's leg. "If we can get our portal working properly we should be leaving late tomorrow or the following day at the latest."

Umikgruid chuckled nervously. "I hate to say this but Dwarves can't ride horses. Our stubby little legs can't get around their backside and we just fall off. If you had some War Rams then that would be a different story."

"War Rams? Like some big goat? That Dwarves ride into battle."

"Ah, so you do know of them." Umikgruid chuckled. "Boisterous things but they're good creatures, so long as they can eat. A lot of them graze around our mountains eating moss."

"That sounds incredibly dangerous."

"It is." Umikgruid laughed. "But the ones that survive don't fall down."

Natural selection, I suppose.

"We might just have to get some carts that the horses can pull. Would that be alright?"

"If you're worried about my pride, after everything we've been through..." Umikgruid chuckled as he shook his head.

"And the Dark Elves know how to ride?"

"Yes," Ceccitol said. "But not very well. We don't have many horses in the Shadow Isles. But we have ridden them, just so we know how."

Anton clapped his hands. "Now that we have that sorted out we need to find somewhere for you all to sleep. We aren't just going to have you wander about Atros trying to find somewhere to sleep. It’s not like we have an Inn…That’s something we should look into."

"Zac should have some more buildings done by now,” Bertram said. “There were a number that were almost ready before the Goblins caused us to close the gates. I don’t think it’ll be much but it’ll be something.”

“It’ll be fine.” Umikgruid waved them down. “So long as it keeps the rain off of us.”

I think it’s only rained here twice since I’ve been here…

“Well let’s go and find you all somewhere to sleep.” Anton stood up and walked to the door. Cetina raced in front and opened the door outside, she was taking her job as a bodyguard relatively seriously. “And we’ll also provide food and drink for your stay, however long that is. Now-”

Cetina made a small noise as she stepped outside. Anton pushed forward to the front and motioned for Cetina to keep moving. To one side of the Main Hall, the Dark Elves waited patiently, many talking quietly amongst themselves but others repairing their equipment and weapons. They appeared relieved to see Ceccitol and Tuccac. As they saw the two’s faces they knew that things had gone as well as they possibly could have and relaxed. However, Anton couldn't see any Dwarves. Not that he wasn't looking over to their height. They were all simply gone.

"Where are the Dwarves?" Anton asked the Dark Elves, stepping to the side to allow passage.

"Oh," Verona said softly. “Oh dear.”

"I'm not sure." A Dark Elf replied, shrugging his shoulders. "They were just the other side of us and then they wandered off somewhere. We called out to them but they said it was alright. I don’t know where."

"Okay..." Anton rubbed his forehead as Verona and Kal came to his side. When the two Dwarves emerged they looked just as confused. "Umikgruid? Gosthilda? It seems that your fellow Dwarves have just wandered off."

"Oh..." Umikgruid stroked his beard. "I think I might know where they've gone."

"Is it to raid some of our food stores?" Verona asked, she seemed genuinely curious as her voice lacked any sort of malice. "We'd give you guys some if you waited a bit longer."

"No. It's not that." Umikgruid rubbed his eyes. "I'm assuming that Atros has a forge of some kind? I know I've seen fresh steel on some of your soldiers."

"Yes, we do."

Umikgruid sighed. "Then that's where they'll be. It's...It's a little difficult to explain."

"You can explain on the way." Anton turned to Ceccitol. "Are you comfortable with your fellows being led to their accommodations?"

"That will be fine," Ceccitol said. "But I am curious to see what has changed with the Dwarves."

"I'll stay with them." Tuccac stepped forward. He gently held Ceccitol’s hands. "I’ll keep them safe."

"And me?" A seductive smirk crept over her lips. "You're just going to leave me alone with some possibly dangerous strangers?"

Tuccac kissed her, gently and delicately. There was none of the hunger that Anton so often experienced.

"I know that you can handle yourself."

Ceccitol chuckled and kissed him again. Tuccac gave her a tiny nod and re-joined the other Dark Elves.

I wonder how good a fighter they really are? While they certainly look agile they don’t look as physically strong, but those swords and daggers could probably find a thousand holes in our defences. I know the Dwarves certainly have the strength, but probably lack the speed.

Over the noise of everyday life, Anton heard someone running towards them, their armour clanking with every step. An Atros guard carefully pushed his way through the villagers to reach them.

"Jeff!" He yelled unnecessarily. "The Dwarves. They're causing problems at the smithy."

"Why did you even let them go?" Anton asked. He was a split second ahead of Jeff asking the same question.

"They were very insistent that they wanted to help. And they're quite strong too. Like a stubborn Ix that wants to get a drink, they’re not just going to stop for anything."

"In future we're going to have to follow some sort of protocol when we have guests like this," Anton said softly.

"Are they breaking anything?" Jeff asked.

"No. But they are trying to do...I don't know what." The guard shrugged exasperated. "Jonathan's not having much fun keeping them out."

"We'll head over there right now." Jeff turned to Bertram and Sybil. "Sorry mum, dad, but we've got to do this."

"It's fine." Sybil chuckled. "Our old bones can't keep up with you youngsters anyway."

"Let's go." Anton waved them onward.

As they ran Anton began to have a greater appreciation for the differences between the two races. Ceccitol, and by extension the Dark Elves, ran fast and without any significant effort. Compared to them she was jogging, even more so than Kal. The Dwarves, on the other hand, were struggling. Not only did their small legs limit their stride, their weight, Anton didn't think it was all fat, slowed them down. Regardless they were putting in the effort, their faces red and breath short, and kept pace.

The Smithy had devolved into chaos, though at first glance it hadn't seemingly turned bad yet. Through the large entrance, Dwarves could be seen moving about while the Smith's and their apprentices watched on nervously. Jonathan stepped into view and tried to shoo the Dwarves out but they were persistent.

Umikgruid, quickly catching his breath, continued walking to the Smithy. "I'm very sorry, everyone, but we Dwarves have a tradition. Back on the Dwarven Isles when we arrive at a...Hold, we offer to help them with their forge and any trinkets they may have. Now, most Dwarven forges are pretty much identical, except for size, so all it usually does is find things that aren't working right. But..."

"Humans aren't that uniform in construction." Anton looked at the buildings around them, every building was different in some way. "And it's really bad without precise tools and planning."

"Yes. And I forgot to tell them that..."

Jonathan stopped talking with the main group of Dwarves when he saw Anton approach. "Anton! Jeff! Help me understand what is happening?"

"It's complicated," Anton said. "They haven't broken anything, have they?"

"No! Quite the opposite, in fact. I had a few broken tools that they fixed. I was just surprised when they turned up."

"Apparently my guards lost them," Jeff grumbled, scratching his bald head. "Sorry about that."

"I..." Jonathan sighed. "I had heard there were Dwarves in Atros but I did not expect them to turn up so quickly."

"You lot!" Gosthilda yelled. All the Dwarves stopped and looked at her, their faces blank. "Get over here. Now."

The Dwarves, men and women alike, shrugged lightly and trundled to the entrance. What Anton first thought was trundling was actually their walking speed.

"What do you all think you were doing?" Anton asked flatly.

A male Dwarf, wearing better than normal clothing, tilted his head slightly. "We were just helping. Their forge is alright but it could do with a lot of work. Everything's built in the wrong location and they spend a lot of their time walking rather than forging. And they also had some broken tools lying about, so we fixed them." The Dwarf seemed perplexed he was being stared at. "You know, the usual Exchange."

"I know you want to help." Umikgruid raised a hand and spoke calmly. "But this isn't Dwarf land. And most of you have never left the Isles until now. But they do things differently here. While I'm sure that they would appreciate the help..."

Umikgruid seemed lost for words.

"You can't just barge into somewhere and fiddle with things." Anton continued. "You're lucky that they knew you were in Atros otherwise things could have gone much worse."

"Oh..." The male Dwarf looked as awkward as his colleagues. "I understand that...That we went too far. We're sorry. We just wanted to make a good impression."

"So long as no one was hurt and you don't do it again, I think we can let this go and chalk it up to a...cultural misunderstanding. Understood?" The Dwarves nodded very seriously to his words.

It's probably what they've done for the past few hundred years, a sort of bonding ritual. And it would be fine in their realm where everyone is a Dwarf and apparently conforms to some standardised construction. But obviously, it can't continue here. But they seemed to think it was perfectly natural. Why did Umikgruid and Gosthilda know it was wrong?

"Umikgruid?" Anton began. "Why did you two know what they were up to?"

"Ah. Gosthilda and I were once sent to work in the Frindal Emirate. We were there for several cycles, and I tried to rearrange a forge that didn't belong to my employer since I could see so much wrong with it. Having my head placed on a wooden block and an axe about to swing down on my neck made me think that I might have been too hasty."

"And I watched it all happen." Gosthilda sighed. "You're so lucky that you managed to get away by paying them everything you had. You’re lucky they didn't throw you from a building. I've seen them do that to humans before. Imagine what that would have been like for a Dwarf."

"A very long way down," Anton mumbled. He clapped his hands. "But please, in future, adhere to our rules and customs."

The dwarves nodded in earnest.

"Jonathan? If the Dwarves want to help can they stay?"

Jonathan sighed as Loretta came to his side. Anton hadn't realized she was there. He wanted to say something about shadows and the colour of her skin but refrained. Behind her, coming from the small back room Seamus and Lili emerged, carrying a docile Luna in their hands. As ever she didn't care who was patting her, just that she was getting lots of attention.

"They can." Jonathan folded his arms. "But if they do what they did again they are not allowed back in. I nearly had a panic attack when fifty of them just walked in here."

"And I need to have a talk with my guards," Jeff grumbled. "Let them know they need to stop people from just wandering off. Even if they are the first guests we've had since... Well, since Kal turned up."

"Yeah." Kal chuckled.

"As for you lot." Umikgruid huffed. "I'm sure I told you lot to keep your hands to yourself."

"We just wanted to make a good impression." Another Dwarf said. "We were beginning to think this whole thing was a waste of time and money. And when we saw this place we all agreed this would be it."

"Well there's a few things we need to talk about but, yes, this is the place. These people will help us free our clan so we can live free." Umikgruid leant close. "And you almost ruined it."

Either they mean they found what they were looking for or they were going to turn around and leave you on your vision quest. There would have to be a point where they would say this it is stupid to continue.

"On a different subject." Anton didn't want Umikgruid to continue down his current train of thought. "How many of you will be coming with us? Every hand will be appreciated."

"All of the Dark Elves will accompany you," Ceccitol spoke firmly. "We all long for home, and none of us would feel comfortable living a peaceful existence while our brothers and sisters fight and die for our people’s very survival."

"How good are you with that bow?" Anton asked. Kal pulled close and gently held the sleeve of his shirt.

"Very good." Ceccitol smiled awkwardly. "But that's not really for me to say. But, if you will allow me to say it, very good.”

"And it looks like you know how to use those blades too." Anton nodded at her hips, receiving a nod in return. "Umikgruid, how about you?"

"Some of us will come with you." He turned to the patiently waiting Dwarves. "There will be actual fighting this time, against an army of Goblins instead of some stupid bandits thinking we are human children."

I thought those weapons looked used.

"So who's with us? Those that stay behind will be helping them improve their city. Their walls, buildings....Smithy’s."

A little over half raised their hands, including those that had spoken earlier. Only a few women wanted to come, not that he blamed them. He had no idea if Goblins could exist on their island mountains but surely stories were told of them to frighten children.

Umikgruid chuckled. "With this many Dwarves, we'll be able to take out a hundred goblins without breaking a sweat." He turned to Ceccitol. "But that's not going to be enough. Is it?"

"Not at all." Ceccitol could only smile bitterly.

"And that's where we come in," Anton said. "Hopefully we'll be enough to tip the scales. But for now, there's little we can do. Ceccitol, do you wish to go to where your Dark Elven comrades are? There's not a lot to be done until tomorrow."

"If I could, yes. I'm surprised that we're moving out so quickly. Less than a day?"

"We need to move fast. Jeff, can you do that and then show the Dwarves where they'll be staying? We need to finalize something on our end."

"Not a problem. Um, Ceccitol, I know where they're going so if you would please follow me."

"Of course." Ceccitol bowed deeply. "Thank you for agreeing to help my people. I will give my thanks to Stratos tonight. No matter what happens we will always remember that you fought by our side."

She gave another bow and followed Jeff.

"Such a shame," Verona mumbled. Kal glared at her but Verona chuckled and moved Anton between them to avoid a lazy claw swipe. Anton ignored what she was doing, on all levels.

"It'd probably be best if we waited," Umikgruid said. "We'll stay here and see how we can help. So long as we don't go too far."

Anton caught Jonathan breathing a sigh of relief. Loretta wrapped a hand around his upper arm, her fingers barely even bent around his muscles. She said something to her children, still holding onto Luna, while Jonathan's children were still working on something in a forge at the back.

“If you need anything that Jonathan can’t handle just ask one of the guards,” Anton said. “There shouldn’t be a problem but just in case…”

“Thanks.” Umikgruid chuckled. “But I’m sure that we’ll be fine. It’ll be good to do some proper forge work again, even if it’s nothing like the ones back home.”

Jonathan gave the Dwarves an odd look as Anton left them to it, but not before taking Luna off Seamus and Lili’s hands. They would have to work now rather than pet the small deer, much to their annoyance.

---[]---

Anton found the Training Fields just as busy as ever. Now there were more than a few dozen Beastkin and Seocurians joining the Atros villagers. Some still looked nervous, especially the Beastkin still fearful to be around so many humans, but the villagers and instructors paid that no mind. That was the correct decision as they were behaving more and more like they truly belonged.

"Good. Our spot's still free." Anton said. "I wonder if that has anything to do with that Goblin."

"I hope not." Verona stuck out her tongue. "If I see it do that thing again I know I'm going to freak out."

"Do we need more stones?" Kal asked.

"Yeah. Before we go we'll hand those over to Jonathan and Zac. Get that system set up and see if it works. If it does it'll speed up our coal and iron ore collection immensely." Anton chuckled lightly. "And if they get into any trouble they can just jump through the portal to safety. Landing's going to be a bit rough but..."

Anton summoned the attention of a nearby guard and explained what he wanted. The guard was slightly bemused by the request but followed it regardless. They took up position near the charred remains of the Goblin; Verona, Cetina and Luna in the shade of the wall while Kal waited next to Anton.

"I thought I would see your old friends there," Anton said softly. "But after this morning I don't think they're going to have much in the way of energy."

Kal chuckled. "I know I wouldn't. It's not just the running and the walking, but we've been fighting for some time now. Not so much up close." Kal lightly thumped his arm. "Thanks to you two. But they've never taken a life before. Probably not even an animal, except for Eider. Maybe Irso now that I think about it.” Kal grunted and waved her hand. “You know what I mean.”

"Oh, I'm sure they've imagined it." Anton looked far to the North East, to where the mountain range spanned the horizon. "Every day I'm sure, somewhere deep down, they've wanted to do it. Though a Goblin is nothing like killing one of their Masters...You know, it might have made their first kills more difficult. At least if it was the masters there would have been rage to drive their strikes. With the Goblins, it's very forced."

Kal didn't respond for some time. "What are we going to do when we're raiding the plantations? And we find some Seocurian guards?"

"It's unfortunate but anyone armed that stands in our way needs to be cut down. There's no way we could just work our way around them."

"And a slave master? They probably won't have weapons..."

"Them too. If they get in our way. But we might need to get rid of them anyway, they're a big part of the problem. And if they survive the Beastkin are going to suffer huge reprisals."

"They're going to anyway," Kal said softly. "At first the Seocurians are going to assume it's the Beastkin. And a lot are going to die before they realize it's got nothing to do with them."

Anton held Kal gently. "I...I think this is a situation where there's no good answer. No matter what we do they're going to suffer. The best that we can do is free as many as we can while trying our best to turn the Seocurians attention elsewhere. Maybe make them think it's business rivalry rather than liberation."

"It's worth a try." She giggled softly. "If we do that it'll be exactly like what I've come to expect of you."

"What?"

"Sneaky. Sneaky and manipulative."

Anton laughed as he saw the villager return with a large bag. Sixteen stones lay inside. After saying thanks Anton focused his attention on creating the portal.

"Verona? Cetina? Can you make sure that Luna stays with you? I don't want her anywhere near this."

"She's fine," Verona shouted back. "I don't think she's really going to do much with us scratching her."

Both were gently playing with Luna while she soaked up the attention. Anton hoped they weren't warping the natural development of Luna.

"Right then." Anton took out the sixteen stones and placed them in two stacks. "Let's hope we can get it right this time."

Kal smiled as she sat down. "We will. We will."

Anton sat next to her and stared at the rocks. He pointed at Kal's blade before carving an identical mark into two stones, different to their first portal.

"Now...It's now just a matter of saying the right thing to Tethra." Anton clapped his hands before laying them on one set of stones. "Okay. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, bless these stones to create a portal when arranged in a circle. Make it so when something touches the portal they are instantly moved to the corresponding portal ring, without falling through the portal. If one of the stones is removed and the portal disrupted the item isn't cut in half. May the stones use Earth mana to fuel the portal."

I hope that's enough. Tethra, if you can hear this, please understand what I'm trying to make this time.

Once Anton had regained his breath after the sudden depletion of mana they arranged the stones in a circle. Once again the stones glowed white, a ring of ethereal energy grew through each stone and inwards until it covered everything inside the stone circle. Only when the surface began to ripple did either speak.

"I hope this works," Anton said softly.

"It will." Kal gently rubbed his shoulder. "It's just strange that it looks almost identical to the other one."

"Let's hope it’s not. I don't want to have my legs cut off if it collapses. Or spend any time tumbling through the white disk."

Kal laughed. "That's a great thought. I'll do the next one."

Kal chanted the exact same prayer over the second pile of stones. It took her almost a minute to completely regain her breath. When the stones were arranged, and the shimmering white light had finished growing, Anton held the bag in his hands.

"Better to use this instead of one of us," Anton said.

After a quick breath, he gently tossed the bag into a portal. It sailed slowly through the air and landed on the white disks. The disk flared brightly for an instant. The bag had instantaneously moved to the other portal. Anton lowered his head to look along the disk, the bag had not fallen through as the leaves had.

"A success." Anton smiled. "At least, so far. Now it's just a matter of experimentation."

Anton drew Kal's blade to recover the bag. He held the knife by the extreme end and always making sure his hand did not cross over the stones. The blade gently picked up a loose strap. As he raised the bag with the knife the bag did not try and teleport back. He took the bag back from the portal and passed back the blade.

"Seems fine to me." Anton scrunched the bag in his hands. "Doesn't feel like it's been changed in any way. I...I think we've got it."

"But?"

"But we need to do a few more tests."

Anton tossed the bag back into the second portal. Like before it flashed brightly before reappearing in the first portal. Anton moved a stone from the first portal out of position. The shimmering portal collapsed with the expected gush of wind. The bag flopped onto the grass completely unscathed. Anton reached in and held the bag, again it was completely unchanged.

“Right. Now,” Anton placed the stone back and the white portal disk returned. “Now we just need to send someone through.”

“Not you.” Kal held his arm. “Not you. I don’t want you to go through and end up on the other side of the world. There will be a lot of people that will be crushed if you disappeared like that. Especially us.”

Anton kissed her lightly. “I wasn’t going to. But I do need a volunteer to go through to make sure it’s safe before we go any further. If it’s not we’re going to have to wait a bit longer before we can help the Dark Elves and Dwarves.”

“I’ll do it.” A voice came from behind.

Cetina stood a few meters away, Verona right behind her with Luna in her hands.

“I’ll do it,” Cetina repeated. “I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

“I-”

“It’s fine.” Cetina smiled. “I know that something that you make isn’t going to be dangerous.”

“That’s a very generous assumption,” Anton said. “But…I’d rather actually send a Goblin through. See what happens there.”

“It’ll be fine.” Cetina approached the shimmering portal. “I was watching and I saw the bag go through without any problem.”

“She’ll be fine.” Verona took his right side. “Otherwise we’d have to send Luna through. And I don’t think anyone training’s just going to do it. And how would you explain that to their families? That they ended up on the other side of the world? Or underneath the ocean?”

Anton didn’t want to try and think about the reasoning too much. Especially since Cetina had no real family left to speak of.

Cetina took a deep breath and stepped into the portal. Her foot made contact with the white portal but the flash of light did not occur. For a moment Anton thought it wasn’t going to work on creatures but when her whole body passed the ring the white disk flashed bright and Cetina emerged on the other portal. Her momentum continued and she exited the second portal without any difficulty. She took another step before holding her head.

“Ugh. Feels like I’m drunk again.” Cetina rubbed her temples hard. “Everything’s spinning.”

“What was it like?” Anton asked. “I need you to be very specific in your descriptions.”

“It…It was like I was falling in all directions. Everything went white for an instant and then I was back here.” Cetina chuckled, giving her temples a light thud. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Except when you’re drunk.” Verona smiled, folding her arms underneath her chest. “I know what that feels like. I haven’t been drunk in some time but there’s no way I’d forget that spinning feeling.”

“I want to give it a quick go,” Anton said.

He stepped forward and onto the white disk. His boots were a few centimetres off the ground and it felt like he was stepping onto a slightly bouncy floor. Nothing assaulted his senses until he had completely passed the ring. The moment he did the world spun violently. His eyes told him nothing while his ears had no idea where he was. When the white light receded he was right behind Cetina and continuing to move forward. Cetina stepped back and allowed him some space.

“That…” Anton’s mind groaned in pain as it was assaulted by a delirious spinning sensation. “That really is terrible. But…I’m here and fine. So, I think we can call this a success.”

Kal stepped through the portal after him. She stepped onto it completely but the white flash didn’t occur. When she looked back her tail was just outside of the ring. The moment it was brought inside she jumped to the second portal.

“By the Old Gods!” Kal groaned as she stumbled out. She emerged looking even worse than he and Cetina felt. Her eyes spun in her head, her tail tucked between her legs and her ears pulled down hard. “That’s awful. Why didn’t you tell me it was going to be that bad?”

“Must be worse for a Beast-kin.” Anton pulled her into a gentle embrace. While it would have little effect on calming her disrupted senses it calmed her somewhat. “You just have much better senses than the rest of us.”

“Sometimes that’s a bad thing.” Kal groaned into the crook of his neck.

“Well, I guess it’s down to just us two then,” Verona said.

Before Anton could stop her, worried about what could happen if two creatures stepped through at once while in direct contact with one another, Verona jumped onto the portal. Even though she and Luna had cleared the stone ring the portal did not activate. Only when she touched the white disk did it flash. They emerged fine though Verona stumbled, as the portal kept her momentum but her mind was undoubtedly just as disoriented as theirs. Luna looked awful, like a drunk deer suffering concussion. She squeaked and glowed slightly, the effects on her and Verona were gone.

“So that’s what you do.” Verona slipped a step but quickly found her feet. “I’ve never had it happen to me yet.”

“You feel a lot calmer, right?” Anton asked.

Verona laughed as she came to Anton’s other side. “Yeah. Though I still feel a little…”

“It’s mostly gone for me,” Cetina said. She brushed a hand through her short black hair, a hand idly playing with the small blue patch on her fringe. “Is this going to be alright for you?”

“It will.” Anton patted Kal’s back as she righted herself. “We shouldn’t have to fight the moment we step through. And even if we don’t have magic it’ll only take us a little bit before we’re fine.”

“And the Beast-kin?” Cetina asked. “I don’t know how their senses compare to Kal, but if they go through that and look like she did…”

“I know they’ll forgive us.” Anton nodded to the training Beast-kin. “Once they realize they are free from the Seocurian Empire they’ll forgive a little be of queasiness.”

“If you say so, Anton.” Cetina smiled warmly.

“Do we want to get anyone else?” Verona asked. “Maybe Jeff can use this to punish people that misbehave? Jump through these a few dozen times, and it doesn’t matter if they move one of the stones since they’ll just fall onto the ground.”

“That’s not what I had in mind at all.” Verona still laughed. “Let’s bundle these up and move onto the next step.”

“Which is?” Kal asked.

“We need to get ourselves our boat.”

---[]---

Anton gingerly walked through the corridor in the Main Hall. Two guards had been posted outside, a new feature, but they had allowed them through without a second glance. There probably weren't many places in Atros that he wasn't allowed in to.

"This brings back some memories," Anton said. "Don't really go past the front room now but...This was home for some time."

"Yeah." Verona chuckled. "Not that they were always good times. But only good things have come from it."

"That they have."

"So," Cetina, taking up the rear, began speaking. "Apart from those council meetings what is this place for?"

"Originally I think it's just the building that the village chief lives in." Anton received a nod from Verona. "But it's also storage for our most valuable possessions. Like all of our gold."

"I bet you know all about that." Verona leant close to Kal, a wicked smile on her face.

"I never even thought of looking in here." Kal sighed. "The Emerald gem was more than enough for me. If I had to flee Atros I could have lived quite comfortably for the rest of my life."

"But you wouldn't have just left your mother in Seocuria?" Anton asked.

"No." Kal smiled as she shook her head. "I'm glad I didn't have to make that journey alone."

"How much gold do you have?" Cetina asked. "You gave me all heaps without a second's thought."

"Should be a chest full." Anton stopped at the last door along the corridor. "And it should be in here."

The room had very little inside; several old crates, two of which were broken, and something covered by a thick blanket. Anton ripped the blanket free to reveal the chest. They were, in fact, two chests pushed together.

"Is that all full of gold?" Cetina's voice shook. "You're wealthier than most merchants in Bebbezzar if it is."

"I certainly hope it is." Anton unlocked the chest. "Otherwise we're in big trouble."

The iron-reinforced wooden lid groaned open. Thousands of gold coins glinted in the faint light coming through the wooden slat window.

"That's definitely a risk." Anton pointed at the window when the girls looked confused. "Someone could easily break in and leave us broke."

"Unbelievable." Cetina covered her mouth at the sight of the unimaginable wealth. "I'm shocked no one has tried to steal it sooner."

Anton smiled as he took several handfuls of gold coins. "Right now you could have a mountain of gold and it wouldn't matter a damn. You can't buy anything with it here and you'd need to travel to Graterious, which is impossible right now, or Qaiviel, and travel through that forest. Then you would have to try and explain why you have so much. It’s actually quite useless to most people."

"But when we do start having to buy stuff?" Verona asked.

"Then we're going to need an actual treasury." Anton sighed. "And then we're going to need things like tax collectors as well. They won't be popular."

"Why not?" Verona asked.

"Would you like to give up some of your food?" Kal asked.

"No. I'm sure it's more complicated than that but I understand."

"There are a lot of services that we'll need to make once Atros is larger." Anton put the gold coins into the small hidden pouches inside his armour. "I think this will be enough to get us to the Shadow Isles and pay Wilford." Anton turned to the girls. "And maybe a small shopping trip in Bebbezzar."

"Yes!" Verona laughed. "Tasty food. Tasty food."

"What about the second chest?" Kal asked.

Just as Anton thought the second chest contained the small gems recovered from the Goblins of Mount Aspire.

"What?" Cetina was lost for words as she held a hand over her heart. "That's...That's worth more than the chest filled with gold! How much more do you have?"

"This is it." Cetina took a deep breath at Anton's words. "But it's not just Rubies and Emeralds in here."

"What?"

Anton delicately moved the gems around until he found the two that he was looking for. He held aloft a blue and purple gem. Cetina paled at the sight, moving to a wall to steady herself.

"I'm dreaming." Cetina ran a hand through her hair. "I must be. There's no way you can have some of those too."

"Benozite and Tanzanite." Anton smiled. "This one is worth one hundred gold coins and this one worth four hundred."

Cetina shook her head in silence. Kal and Verona gently patted her in an attempt to restore some sanity to the Bebbezarian.

"I think we'll take these. You never know how much money might be needed."

"If someone wants that much money..." Verona trailed off.

"Again, right now it's worthless." Anton tossed them into the air. "Apart from looking pretty, they don't have any value. Until we trade them for something."

"All my life I've never had money of my own." Cetina laughed, resting her head against the wall. "Not even a single copper coin. And now more than I could possibly dream of is just being thrown about in front of me."

Anton chuckled. "Despite how fun it’s been we didn't come here just to ruin Cetina's mind." Cetina whimpered as the blue and purple gems were idly tossed back into the chest. "We need to find those pens."

"Bertram didn't say where they are." Verona began. "Only that they are in this building. Do you think they have it in their bedroom, do you? So that Bertram and Sybil can stay together while they're waiting for any message."

"I don't think so." Anton closed the chests and covered them with the thick cloth. "He said it was a separate room. And it's not just been him on the other side. Sometimes it's been Jeff and even Dana once."

"Oh right..." Verona held a finger to her lips. "Our old bedroom then?"

Anton shrugged. "Worth a look. It was really the only room without something in it."

Anton made sure the door was closed properly when they exited. He glanced along the corridor, Verona stood impatiently in front of their old room, but their words circled around his head.

Someone might be able to sneak past those guards, or through that window, and then they've taken all of our money. We could cast some magic over the chests so only a few can actually open it. So long as we tell Bertram and Sybil. Something to do before we go.

"More happy memories." Verona hummed happily as she opened the door.

Anton's memories filled the room with what little furniture they had: a table, two chairs and the bed they still slept on. What actually lay inside were four small tables with a large sheet of rough paper on each, a pen resting on each. Two chairs lay against the wall. Apparently, Bertram did have company each night.

"So...which is the one we want?" Verona asked.

"Can you read yet?" Kal asked, her voice devoid of malice.

"No." Verona's face flushed red with embarrassment. "Not yet. Besides, that's what I have you two for."

Cetina kept very quiet, Anton remembered that she didn't know how to read either.

It's so strange to me to meet people in their twenties that simply can't read. It would be almost unheard of on Earth, but here...Most people don't have the luxury to devote the time and resources needed. Especially for those in the countryside.

"Bertram's been kind enough to put a little name above each one," Anton said.

At the top of each table and above the pieces of paper were small wooden placards. Anton looked closely at the sheet of paper underneath Duchess Belinda's placard. There were many messages underneath from Atros but nothing in return. A troubling sign.

"Doesn't look good for Duchess Belinda," Anton said quietly. "Do you think she broke it by accident?"

"I doubt that." Kal inspected the pen. "She appeared very pleased to have this, so she could contact you whenever she needed to. But since you had helped her so much, with the Clansmen and Orcs, it doesn't make any sense that she would willingly break off contact."

"Raston said everything was fine. What he heard might have been true but Maxill is a long way from the capital. Who knows what might be happening in there. Not much we can do but wait. Especially with everything else we've got to do."

Anton turned his attention to Wilford's pen. Not a word had been transcribed, not surprising since Anton would call on him, not the other way around. Kal took a seat and placed it in front of the table and beckoned Anton to sit.

"Thanks, Kal." Anton's rear hit the flat, hard surface of the chair. "I don't know how Bertram or Sybil deal with this, especially given their age. Now let's see if Wilford is there or not."

Hello Wilford. This is Anton. Are you there?

"Now we wait." Anton leant back into the chair. "For all we know he could be on land or at port. It could be late tonight before we hear anything from him."

"Wanna try Lord Cassius then?" Verona asked.

"We might as well get both going at once."

As Anton began to rise from his chair the pen began to move. It floated into position and began to write.

Hello Anton. I presume that you made it to your destination in one piece?

"Did we check that he actually knows how to read and write?"

Verona and Kal shook their heads whole Cetina tilted hers.

"Probably should have checked. Otherwise, this next step would be a lot, lot longer than it needed to be."

We have. And with everyone in one piece. I need you and The Snowberry to come back to Dragon Tooth Bay and meet us there. You will be paid well for your time.

Isn't that place swarming with Goblins?

We will deal with them. How long before you can arrive there?

The pen fell silent for some time.

About twelve days. We will wait for another ten days and then we will have to turn back otherwise we will run out of supplies. That’s as long as we can wait.

That is fine. Anchor in the bay and wait for our signal that we have arrived. You will understand it when you see it. Payment will be delivered when we arrive.

Again the pen was still for some time.

Understood. We will be there.

The pen slowly dropped down. For a moment it was still before rolling away, Wilford must have thrown his and the enchantment thought he was writing.

“Is he pissed?” Verona asked.

“When we’re done he’s still got the ship,” Kal mumbled. “If he’s upset then he’s just being silly.”

“Maybe.” Anton chuckled. “Perhaps he thought that we’d actually die out there and he’d get a ship for free. Oh well, he’s getting well paid for his work. And we’re going to pay for the supplies anyway.”

“Oh dear.” Verona rested a hand on his shoulder. “If he gets shitty with you then you’ll just have to remind him who owns the ship. And who’s the one that could burn it down with just a thought.”

“We’ll just have to deal with him as we come to it.” Anton rose from the chair and moved to Lord Cassius’s paper. “I wonder if Cassius has someone waiting on the paper. If he doesn’t we could be waiting for some time.”

“You’re part of the very small group that managed to defeat the Demons that invaded Fort Acidava.” Verona smiled. “And you said that you open to joining him later on, if things changed. At the very least you said that you wouldn’t join the other side which would be enough for me to keep an eye on you. If he treats you like crap who’s to say you won’t join the other side secretly.”

“And then he’s going to have a very difficult time dealing with you.” Kal turned to the east. “But we don’t have to worry about him attacking Atros, even if you did change sides. That crystal chasm is basically impassable.”

Anton readied the pen in his hands. “Not to mention the Goblins and poison gas that covers that area. I wonder how it came to be anyway.”

“Perhaps those cultists?” Kal offered. Her ears pulled back in light distress at remembering the Ancient Listeners. “If they had a child willingly eat the flesh of a Goblin…Who knows what they’re capable of?”

“What?” Cetina stood completely still. “What did you just say?”

“It’s not something we like to think about.” Anton smiled faintly at her. “But it was just before meeting you. Suffice to say that we were more than happy to find refuge in Surdon.”

“Then it was attacked by Mole Rats,” Verona added glibly.

Kal folded her arms, frowning lightly. “I still don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“No…I don’t either.”

Anton turned his attention to the paper. It, just like Wilford’s, was completely blank. While Cassius did not know where they were going he knew they needed a ship for at least part of it. For all he knew they could be heading to the Dwarven Isles or beyond.

Hello Lord Cassius. This is Anton. Are you receiving this?

The pen moved almost immediately.

Hello Anton. I am currently dictating this message to my maid. I trust that you received my ship in good order? Was it to your liking?

It was. The Snowberry has served us well. I am writing this asking for a favour.

And what favour would that be?

I would like access to The Royal Academy in the capital of the Graterious Empire.

In Herculia? The Royal Academy larger than the one in Porswea. I could write a writ telling that you are a colleague of mine and that you wish to purchase magical artefacts and tomes. Though I think you know that while my word has some considerable reach it is somewhat muted in the capital.

I understand. If you could do that for us I would be very grateful.

Yes. But what would I get in return? I have already given you a ship for agreeing not to become involved with my enemies. Some might not call that a fair trade but you came to me first. Now you come to me.

Anton ran his hand through his hair.

I was expecting this. Someone in Cassius's position can’t just give away favours willy-nilly. He was extremely generous with donating The Snowberry, and there’s no way that he’d do it again for us. Not without something in return. I wonder…

How is the suppression of Tullas Mad Eye’s gang going?

Terrible. We thought we had found a major hideout. It was, but we have little information to go on. Whomever Tullas is, he’s organising things very well. Each bandit group is isolated from one another. So even if we capture everyone they don’t know much. There was a leader but we have extracted little information from him. I’m beginning to doubt if he knows anything more than code words.

“Extraction just sounds like another word for torture,” Anton mumbled aloud.

Perhaps we could assist in dealing with Tullas’s gang.

Though you are strong enough to deal with those giant creatures that came through the portal at Fort Acidava I don’t think that you’ll be able to be of much help in locating this perfidious bandit.

Is there anything that we could help with that would allow us access to The Royal Academy?

Is it possible that you could create more of these communication pens? I have asked some of the most learned people in Porswea and they have no idea how it functions or how to replicate it. They were very eager to get a better look at it but I declined.

It is possible. But sending them to you would be very difficult right now.

Is it possible you could stop by a Graterious port city?

Yes. We could return to Rusaddir in the next twenty to thirty days.

Excellent. I will send Victor to meet you there since he is one of the few people that I trust right now. He will deliver the writ allowing you access to The Royal Academy in return for five sets of Communication Pens. Does that sound acceptable?

He means to use them for more than just talking to distant lords. With the upcoming civil war...Ah. If his generals had these pens they could easily coordinate attacks with devastating results, and no chance of orders being lost or intercepted. They could run rings around the Emperor's forces and put his ally, Lord Umbris, to shame. No wonder he wants it. But...What do I have to lose here? I gain more favour with Cassius and the lord that supports the Emperor, Vulusius, is an economic ally of Seocuria. Seems like a win-win for us. But I shan't be handing over the secrets on how to make them. Not that it would make any sense.

It is acceptable. I cannot exactly say when we will be in Rusaddir but it will be soon. Tell Victor to keep an eye on all the ships entering the port, as we will not be able to stay for long.

Understood. I will write the writ now. Good luck with your adventures.

Before you go have you had any word about the Strega Witches?

No. Not since you found those two. The mages of the Porswean academy were very concerned they had entered the city without them knowing. I have not taken off the bracelet you enchanted and all my headaches are gone. They have yet to return.

If there is any word of them could you please tell us right away? They are no friends of ours.

I will. May you have safe travels.

And to you.

Anton laid down the pen. A knotted breath left his chest. “Well, that was a bit easier than I expected.”

“Did you get it?” Verona asked.

“Yep.” Anton gently rubbed his legs. “All I have to do is give him five sets of the communication pens.”

“I honestly thought he would ask you to join his side in their civil war,” Kal said.

“I got the feeling he was a few moments away from asking that when he could get something just as valuable.”

“Those pens are stronger than you?” Verona raised a brow, Cetina frowned and nodded.

“Yes and no.” Anton stood up and moved the chair back to the wall. “Individually no. But if used correctly, which I’m sure Cassius will do, it could revolutionise the way wars are fought. Orders could be relayed instantly, regardless of distance. Entire armies could be surrounded and defeated in coordinated encirclements this world has never seen. It could easily tip the scale of the civil war in their favour.”

“But…”

“It’s either that or a bunch of strange and probably renegade mages.” Anton chuckled. “And I think Cassius has enough mages of his own. I still don’t know how we’ll do against Principle Mages. If we hit them with everything we’ve got right away we’ll be fine but if the battle extends longer than that…”

“Hence, why you want those books from The Royal Academy,” Kal said.

“Exactly right. It’s bigger than the one in Porswea and it probably still has some books about the Old Gods and how to use their powers properly, if we don’t get it from Ferula in Koumore. And I don’t think Cetina really wants to go back to that place yet.”

Cetina shook her head.

“Exactly.” Anton clapped his hands. “So let’s get ready.”

Chapter 118 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Groundwork for Depature

Chapter 118 Pt.2:

Dawn rays scattered over the ground, broken up by the wooden buildings of Atros, as Anton and Cetina loaded the last of the food crates onto the Ix drawn cart. They had more than enough supplies to take them to Jaka, Wilford would have additional supplies to take them to the nearest Graterious port where they could resupply again. Since they were not escorting a thousand tired and scared civilians their journey would be far swifter but not fast enough for Anton’s tastes.

Anton dusted off his gloves and looked at the driver. He was glad to hear that one of the Dark Elves knew how to handle the large temperamental creatures. Only the question of how to get the beast back to Atros unscathed remained.

"I wonder how you're going to handle the portal." Anton gently patted the Ix's neck. Rough scales dragged against his glove but the beast still enjoyed the attention. "Hopefully you won't go on a stampede or something."

"I think it will be too disoriented to worry about that." Kal checked the crates for any chance of slippage and gave a nod. "I could barely walk."

"That's something we need to work on. But for now it's still fantastic. I'm a little concerned that there might be a maximum range for these things. There shouldn't be, since it's just a doorway, but you never know. And-"

"There's only one way to find out?" Kal smiled as she raised an aqua eyebrow.

"Exactly." Anton lightly kissed her. "Do you have your mask with you? I didn't see you get it this morning."

Kal pointed to the pack on the side of her horse. "It's in there. I don't see the point in wearing it when we're riding through the wilderness. It's not like the things that lurk in the shadows care."

"True." Anton kissed her again. "But we can't be too careful."

Kal smiled and nodded. Cetina, a few meters behind the Ix drawn cart, let out a grunt as she pulled her horse in line with the others.

"Don't know why you're being so stubborn." Cetina scratched her horse’s neck. "This will be the first time you've been out in the last few days. Aren't you glad to be out of there?"

Atros's stables needed some serious improvement. They were almost identical to those of Earth, but of considerably lower quality. In the rush to make Atros ready for the Beastkin and then the Seocurians improvements had been delayed. Nevertheless it was enough to keep them warm and dry, what more could a horse really ask for?

Cetina gave another pull. This time her horse followed her instructions without resistance. Out of its large eyes it could see the other three horses it had travelled with the past few months. Realizing they were all going together it relaxed and began nuzzling the other horses. Cetina sighed, shook her head, but didn't complain that the horse was being compliant.

"Well." Cetina dropped her arms against her side, the anticipated slap was muffled by her armour and thick clothing. "Looks like I don't understand much about horses still. I thought she'd be glad to get out.

"I don't know that much about them either." Anton said, Kal nodded. "I know how to make them go forward and stop. And how to take basic care of them, but that's about it. Yours must have just thought it was going to be left alone."

"I wouldn't like that either." Verona walked around the front of the Ix smiling wildly, Luna in her arms. "If you three went off somewhere and left me behind I wouldn't be very happy."

"And the second time we went to Maxill?" Anton asked. "You volunteered to stay that time."

"And I'm glad I did." Verona chuckled. "Even though I didn't really like it. But Atros would have been left without any mages. And while it was a little lonely in that bed without you Atros wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Damn Kobolds." Anton grumbled as he shook his head. He turned to the south. "Fifty miles south of Surdon. That's as far as Nithroel...I wonder what's happening down there."

"You said you checked the map that Cassius gave you?" Verona asked.

"Yeah. There's nothing special below that mark. Just the usual stuff: cities, towns, villages, forts, farms, plantations and mines. Nothing that would warrant our exclusion. All gone now, of course. I still think the best explanation is she wants a buffer between us and her precious Wood Elves."

Cetina frowned, scratching underneath the rim of her helmet. "But surely they aren't weaker than Atros. I know that Qaiviel does some trading with them so they aren’t unknown. Their magic is supposed to be really strong and their warriors experts with every weapon."

"Living for tens of thousands of years will do that." Anton mumbled.

"Not to mention the creatures of the forest that fight with them." Cetina shrugged as she looked around Atros. "This place..."

"I understand what you mean, Cetina. I'm certain the Wood Elves could easily crush this place. But not without potentially taking losses. Did you know it takes hundreds of winters, cycles, before they can have a child?"

"No."

"About five hundred. Five hundred winters before they can have a child, and it sounds like it's only good for one day a year like the Dark Elves."

Cetina frowned more heavily. "But how do you know that?"

Anton raised his glyph covered hand, even though he wore a glove. "They told me."

"Right...But still..."

"Imagine that the Wood Elves went to war with a human Kingdom." Anton began. The three girls, especially Cetina, listened intently. "Even if they are fantastic soldiers, of which I have no doubt, they are certainly going to lose some."

Especially if I can get guns or at least cannons ready before it descends into war. If it weren't for the Dark Elves we could very well have them before this time next year thanks to the Dwarves. But it's not like we can just abandon them to their fate.

Verona coughed loudly.

"Sorry. Let's say they won and forced the kingdom into submission. Then they get what they want and head back into the forests. By the time that one generation of Wood Elves has been born the humans, if we take a generation taking twenty winters or so, that means how many generations would have passed?"

Verona and Cetina looked deep in thought, their minds crunching the numbers while Kal took only a few seconds. Thankfully it took them only a few more seconds before they had their answer.

"Twenty five." Verona triumphantly stated. The realization dawned on her face. "Oh. Now I get it."

"Not only would the humans have completely repopulated and rebuilt, just look at how well we are doing, it's possible the old kingdom doesn't exist. That is a long time for anything to last. Especially a government. The Wood Elves could come looking for their next reparation and the humans might have no idea who they are."

"I understand." Cetina refused to entirely relinquish her frown.

"Which is why they use other creatures as soldiers." Kal said quietly. "Kobolds and who knows what else."

"The Kobolds didn't strike me as their main force." Anton said. "More like some sort of quick responders or skirmishers. I think Nithroel will have something a little stronger the next time we tangle."

"Are you looking at making it four now?" Anton looked over Cetina's shoulder to see Jeff approaching. He held a wide smile, almost as wide as Verona’s. “Five, six? I can’t keep up. If you reach ten I win ten barrels of Zac’s alcohol. By the way, isn’t Nithroel that goddess that we’re had all that trouble with?”

“Yes she is.” Anton deliberately didn’t address his original point. “And I have no interest in her.”

“Is she not pretty?” Jeff leant against the cart, nodding appreciatively at the sheer amount of supplies they had taken.

“She is.” Anton shrugged. “But her personality is vile.”

“They were out here.” Verona mimicked the size of Nithroel’s bust. “So big and bouncy…And long hair too.”

Kal sighed and shook her head, Cetina looked on slightly troubled as Verona’s eyes were lost in memory.

“So big.” Verona shook her head. “So was Esperit’s. And she dropped them on my head too.”

“Anyway, we were just discussing a few things while we waited for everyone to assemble.”

“Seems like it’s just the Dwarves now.” Jeff looked around the mostly empty central plaza. “Looks like all the Dark Elves kept the drink to a minimum.”

“Yes…”

While the Dark Elves had taken care to limit the amount of alcohol they drunk, some outright refused stating they could not enjoy themselves so when their homeland was suffering, their travelling companions had not. Each Dwarf drunk what seemed to be their weight in alcohol, draining what little they had left, and yet did not appear inebriated on any level. Anton didn’t concern himself with understanding why but it appeared to be affecting them now.

“I’ve sent someone to get them.” Jeff sighed. “Seems the Dark Elves decided to just leave them there.”

“There wasn’t much we could do.” A new voice came from behind Anton. “If we were to wake the Dwarves early they would be cranky until tonight.”

Ceccitol stood behind him, her face only inkling at a smile as one hand rested on a blade hidden by her cloak. In the early morning light she looked very beautiful, the way the light shone on her dark skin and gleamed from her hair. Though, he knew that Verona and Kal were far, far more beautiful. He couldn’t help but remember her mad offering to ensure his allegiance.

“Was it like that all the time during your travels together?”

Ceccitol sighed as she approached, resting against the cart opposite to Jeff. “Oh yes. Nearly every day. Though, after a few rough mornings they got used to the idea of waking up before lunch. Your friend, Raston, was adamant about returning to Atros. I think that helped.”

“I’m sure the alcohol didn’t help-”

Ceccitol chuckled. “Not in the way you’d think. They barely even notice it. Unlike just about every other being I’ve met they, somehow, seem immune to it.”

At least that part hasn’t changed from Earth. Though I don’t remember Dwarves being seafarers.

“They’re going to have to go sober for the rest of our time away from Atros.” Anton turned to the south then to Cetina. “Would a Bebbezzar port have copper stills? For making alcohol?”

“They should. You can get just about anything in Bebbezzar. Though I would suggest landing at one of the larger port cities if you want to be sure.”

“We might make that our destination then. Give Zac a present. Now,” Anton clapped his hands, attracting a loud squeak from Luna. “What are we going to do about you?”

“I was thinking about bringing her with us.” Verona bounced Luna like a baby. “She’s great at keeping people together, like when we were travelling from Jaka. Not to mention she can do some sort of healing. Even if it’s only of the mind.”

“And the milk?”

“I’ve made another Cold Stone.” Kal pointed at Verona’s horse. On the side, where a second pack should have been, were two small wooden barrels. The edges were stained with the tiniest hints of dried milk. “So we shouldn’t run out this time. Though we can just jump through the portal if we need to.”

“Still no luck from me.” Verona chuckled.

“And…” Kal sighed, her shoulders drooped and her eyes closed. “Oh Verona. This morning I saw her eating grass. So she might be already able to handle it.”

“You really are growing up fast.” Anton gently rubbed Luna’s head. She sneezed and beat her tiny wings furiously.

“My people are ready to leave the moment the Dwarves are.” Ceccitol said. “I’ll double check that everything is prepared.”

“Are you going to ride in the cart?” Anton asked. “We don’t have that many horses. And I know that Dana would be loathed to part from that many.”

“We’ll run alongside the cart.” Ceccitol raised a hand. “We need to get some exercise, and recover our strength, before we return to the Shadow Isles. Travelling with the Dwarves was…a slow experience.”

Kal frowned at the cart. “I don’t know how much room we’ll have for the Dwarves. It’s pretty full already. Where will they sit?”

“I’ll prepare another cart.” Jeff slapped the old wood. “We’ve got lots of these Ix and losing another cart won’t be too much of a problem. Not with that portal thing you made us.”

Anton had shown the council the portal after dinner. All were greatly impressed, though were obviously worried about their first attempts tendency to cut things in half when it collapsed. When Anton explained it would only be used for metal ore or coal Zac and Jonathan were very happy. It would free workers and carts to collecting wood and continuing to build Atros. Later today the portals would be established and the resources begin to flow, but they would not be present to witness the inaugural event.

“Just make sure that no one falls in.” Anton smiled. “The set we’re taking has been set up in the Main Hall, just so no one touches it.”

“Right…That would leave you on some ship hundreds of miles from here.” Jeff chuckled. “I can see why someone might want to mess with it. I’ll go get that second cart.”

Jeff waved lightly while Ceccitol bowed and returned to a group of Dark Elves standing a few meters away, looking impatiently towards the south.

“While we wait for the Dwarves…” Anton frowned at the large water barrels. “How many streams did we find on the way back?”

“Not that many.” Kal sighed. “And they were drying up. It hasn’t rained for some time, only twice during the time I’ve been here, so they’re just running out. Once the winter snow falls there’ll be more but I don’t know if there’s going to be enough. If some of the streams are empty…”

“Maybe we can solve that.” Anton began looking at the ground.

“Again with this.” Verona chuckled.

Anton picked up a small loose stone from the cobblestone ground. It did leave a small hole for someone to trip over but Anton was sure it wouldn’t cause that much of an issue.

“You and your stones.” Verona smiled at Cetina. Cetina raised a black brow but said nothing.

“I want to see if we can fix the water problem. And maybe fix the issue that Bertram said about us only having one well. If Kal could make one emit tones of viscous toxic smoke surely I can make that only weeps a little water, right? But…I can’t just make it make water indefinitely. Otherwise it’ll drown Atros until we can destroy it. So I need a limit. You just told it to last for a day, right Kal?”

Kal nodded seriously as she looked at the stone.

Anton hoped onto the cart and opened a water barrel. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, grant this stone the ability to emit water, utilizing earth mana, until the barrel is filled. Once it is filled the stone shall fall dormant and once emptied the stone shall emit water once again.”

Anton’s hand instantly felt cold, the leather of his gloves began to soften and seeped with water. He didn’t notice the amount of mana it took, some considerable mana at that, and simply dropped the stone into the barrel. It was impossible to tell if it was producing more water or not so he scooped out several large handfuls. The water didn’t replenish itself instantly but slowly he watched the level rise until it neared the top. Once there it stopped as the surface rocked gently back and forth.

“That’s awesome.” Verona laughed. “If only we did that on the way back from Jaka.”

“We didn’t run out of water that way.” Kal said softly. “We ran out of food, remember?”

“I’m sure your stomach remembers.” Anton teased. As he stepped down Verona puffed out her cheeks in feigned indignity.

“I was very hungry. Just as you all were. I could hear your stomach’s growling as you slept. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have fought for a nice piece of rabbit meat.”

“Absolutely not.” Anton sighed. “And to think it was only a day that we were without food. I can’t imagine what it would have been like if it had been more.”

“I think everyone would have been watching the horses very closely.” Kal said softly.

Cetina shook her head. “Usually they are the first to go.”

A clamor from the south broke their slightly depressing conversation. The Dwarves had finally arrived. While they were undeniably late their demeanor showed nothing of the sort. If anything they acted like they were early. However Anton saw why they might have been late. Their weapons and armour, once covered by a thin layer of grime and grit now shone brightly in the morning light. Every ring, buckle and joint of metal had been restored to its original luster, even the leather looked new and supple. They weren’t hung over, they had simply been preparing as best they could. In the distance Jeff approached with another Ix drawn cart. Anton was sure another of the Dark Elves knew how to drive one of these creatures, if not he would have to. He had the experience and this way his legs and butt wouldn’t get sore straddling a large, warm and sometimes temperamental beast.

“Sorry for the delay.” Umikgruid laughed and slapped Anton’s side, his hands could only reach that far. “We wanted to look our best. So, are we ready to go?”

“Basically. How good are you at riding in one of these carts? We don’t have enough horses, though I know you said that you didn’t like to ride them…”

“That will be fine.” Umikgruid smiled at the other Dwarves who nodded. “Better than walking. We can’t move as fast as you humans or Dark Elves. At least now we won’t slow you down.”

“Excellent. Please say your goodbyes to those that are staying behind…Is it still going to be ten Dwarves?”

Umikgruid scratched his beard. “Last night, after we’d finished drinking, which was pretty decent for a human’s brew, we had a bit of a chat. Not that we don’t doubt you…But almost half of us have decided to stay here.” Umikgruid waved Anton down. “I’ll be honest but some are nervous about going to fight the Goblins. So,” Umikgruid stepped back. “Thirty of us will join you. The others will stay here and help to build Atros into a great and powerful city.”

“Will twenty be able to do that much before we get back?” Verona titled her head. “I don’t doubt that you are very good, but that’s not very many people.”

Umikgruid smiled. “You’d be surprised. When you get back you won’t recognise your city, in a good way.”

The second Ix cart arrived and Jeff gave the reins to a Dark Elf. With grace only a feline Beast-kin on a good day could muster he jumped onto the cart and took the reins.

“Right. Hop on the back and we’ll get going. There’s not much else to do now.”

The Dwarves approached the cart but couldn’t reach, not without having to jump up. A Dwarf looked awkwardly at Jeff. Jeff quickly returned with a small wooden crate. The Dwarves chuckled as they used it as a step to hop onto the second cart.

At least they aren’t taking it badly. I’m sure we’ll have a proper step by the end of the day.

“Kal!” Yet another voice cried out. This time it came from the east, Marion approached with Kristof and the Beast-kin girls in tow.

“Mother.” Kal gently pushed past Anton and ran towards her mother. Anton saw her tail sway ever so strangely, her mother was running and she still didn’t have a bra. Even Verona and Cetina were slightly miffed at the sight.

“Don’t tell me that you weren’t going to go without saying something.” Marion’s green eyes almost welled with tears. She pulled Kal into a deep hug, one that Kal eagerly returned. “Do you have to go?”

Kal nodded as she nuzzled into her mother’s neck. “I do. I have to go. Otherwise who’s going to look after them?”

Anton and Verona scoffed at the indignity, Cetina smiled awkwardly and almost chuckled.

Kal gently patted her mother to let her go. “But this is something that I want to do. I want to see the rest of the world too. Even if it’s dangerous. Don’t worry, I’ll be safe.”

“Okay.” Marion smiled faintly and gave Kal another quick hug. When she released she looked straight at Anton. “Make sure that you all come back safely. Okay?”

“We will.” Anton said, Marion still didn’t look that happy. “Trust us. We got all of you out of Seocuria, this will be easy compared to that.”

Marion grumbled but didn’t reply. Kristof held her tight in an attempt to calm her. It worked slightly. When Kal returned to Anton’s side he saw an odd look on Kal’s face. Perhaps she didn’t like to think about her mother having a partner, just like Marion probably didn’t want to think about Kal sleeping with two other humans.

“How long will you be gone?” Kristof asked.

“Not really sure.” Anton held his chin. “It’s the beginning of autumn right now…I’m hoping before winter starts. Before the snow starts to fall.”

“Oh. Right.” Kristof turned to the Beast-kin girls. Specifically Eider.

Eider scratched the scales of her hood. “I don’t think I’m going to have much fun then.” She chuckled. “Whenever it’s cold it feels like everything slows down. I can barely move.”

“Or get up in the morning.” Ulyaa sighed. “Usually it’s me or Irso that have to drag you out.”

Eider chuckled, her long forked tongue liking the air. “Well…You’re both warmer than I am.”

“I have an idea to fix that.” Anton said, all four looked surprised at him. “But right now I can’t. I need as much mana as I can for the journey. When we get back I’ll be sure to give it to you.”

“More stones I bet.” Verona sniggered. “When in doubt that’s what our husband makes.”

Eider smiled and laughed. “I look forward to seeing that, Anton. I’d love to be able to play in the snow like they can.”

“We were never playing.” Irso grumbled, a smile creeping up her lips.

Anton frowned ever so lightly. "I hate to have to say this at all but with us gone...There might be some troublesome elements that think they'll be able to get away with things. And I don't just mean humans that don't want the Beastkin here. So...Be ready to defend yourselves if necessary."

Rasha tilted her head. "By defend?"

"In your case just punch or kick them. It'll probably break a rib or two but that's their problem. Irso can just rip them to shreds and the rest of you might want to start screaming fire."

"Why fire?" Eider asked.

"Because people are going to come if thy hear fire. If you say help...They might not want to get involved."

"Sounds shitty." Irso grumbled.

"Trust me. It'll get their attention."

At least I hope that still applies here.

"We're ready to go." Umikgruid yelled, leaning over the edge of the cart at a dangerous angle. "Whenever you lot are."

Anton returned a wave. All the Dark Elves were waiting patiently for them to finish.

"Just us then." Verona said softly.

"Time for us to go then." Anton started walking to his horse after taking Luna from Verona's hands. "And you're going to have to spend a fair amount of time in that pack again. Don't worry it's very comfortable."

Luna wasn't concerned in the slightest as she slipped down into the pack, the pack where she had spent a majority of her life. Once Luna was secured Anton mounted his horse. It took two attempts but he managed to scramble on. He caught the Beastkin girls laughing silently at his attempts. He smiled back but felt a little annoyed that Kal and Cetina mounted theirs without issue. Verona took slightly longer but didn't require multiple attempts.

"I do need more practice." Anton laughed. "A lot more. Now, you four behave yourselves and make sure you keep Marion and Kristof safe. I don't want anything to happen to her, or any of you for that matter, after everything we've been through."

"You can rely on us, Anton." Rasha spoke proudly, puffing up her chest, which did nothing for Eider's sanity.

"We'll keep training." Eider began clearing a path for the carts, the others followed. "Next time it won't be so bad. Right?"

Anton gripped his reins. "Hopefully next time, and there will be a next time, things will be go better. But until then you'll all be within the safety of the walls. Not to mention there are a lot more mages than there were last time."

"Is there any way we can get magic like that?" Ulyaa asked. She appeared the least enthusiastic about fighting again, at least in melee.

"I honestly don't know. But we might be able to get some materials relating to Principle Magic soon. We'll go from there."

Ulyaa looked a little happier. Irso gave a grunt as she folded her arms, probably the most they were going to get out of her.

Anton looked back to Jeff. "Tell everyone that I wish them the best and for them to behave themselves. I'm sure they know what I mean. We'll keep in regular contact but I can't guarantee it'll be every night."

"I'll let them know. Good luck on your journey."

There was little else to say. They said what little they could for their final goodbyes as they trundled towards the gate.

---[]---

Little fanfare followed their small convoy as they left the final gate of Atros. To many they had just returned. The Beastkin looked the most nervous, now without the people that wanted them in Atros the most and a psychological barrier against harm. Anton lamented that there was little else he could do. They needed the help of anyone that was willing to raise their hand. Nor would he sleep well knowing they had left thousands to die a horrible death.

The Dark Elves were true to their word and jogged alongside the cart. This appeared to be near effortless yet their kept their eyes and ears peeled for any potential threats. While the Ix were not the nimblest of beasts they were the most enduring they had and were moving considerably faster than the Beastkin and Seocurians they had escorted. Anton guessed they might arrive in Jaka early, not that he really wanted to. Spending restless and haunting nights in a village overrun by Goblins did not appeal.

"Which route do we take?" Anton said aloud. They rode at the back of the small column, several Dark Elves jogged behind them to keep watch over the rear. "The old road or something different?"

"Judging by how you said that," Kal spoke slyly. "You already have an idea."

Verona chuckled. "I know you well enough that you're planning something."

"True." Anton reached into a pack, scratching Luna on the way, and pulled out Cassius's map of the Kar Kingdom. "The journal that we found on our way to Graterious spoke of a place called Balefire Mine. Where the last remnants, outside of Atros, were going to find shelter. Nithroel said there were three thousand people still in the old kingdom, now that we know of the Seocurians it still leaves a few hundred unaccounted for." Anton shrugged lightly. "And I want to know what happened to them."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kal asked. "If they still act like the old kingdom than they're going to hate me."

"And all our new fluffy friends." Verona laughed, trying to lighten the mood but it didn't work. "They'd hate them even more than they do now."

"I don't know anything about governing." Cetina spoke softly. "But I don't think Atros can take much more until some time has passed. Let the humans and Beastkin get used to each other. If you were to bring in humans who hated almost a third of Atros on sight..."

Anton nodded glumly. "I know. But I still think it's wrong to let hundreds of people die. Especially since we're going to need everyone to beat back the Demons. We haven't seen them since Acidava. I don't doubt that it won't be long before they even start turning up here."

"Which is why you want your mysterious weapon ready." Verona said. "Probably when you...first arrived here."

"Yeah. It would have made the Goblins a piece of cake."

"Is Balefire Mine out of the way?" Kal asked. "I don't think the Dark Elves would like us taking a detour unless it's absolutely necessary."

Anton glanced to the Dark Elves behind. They moved silently but he was under no illusion that they were listening. Thankfully he didn't need to lie.

"The road we took last time was slightly longer than it could have been, but it avoided unknown obstacles." Anton unfurled the map fully, holding it up so they could see. "But if we go along a straight line from Atros to Jaka we pass right by Balefire Mine and avoid a lot of these big cities. Something I expect to be crawling with Goblin. And who knows what else might have moved in."

"Sounds like a plan." Verona nodded thoughtfully. "And it'll take a few days off the trip too. All around we win."

"And if Balefire Mine is still there?" Kal asked. "Are we going to tell them anything?"

"This time, I don't think so. The knowledge that other people are alive will be enough of a shock to them. But if they've got a lot of soldiers or mages...we might want to keep Atros a secret. Just in case."

"Play it by ear." Kal's ears pricked up, her face serious. "Just like Cassius and Danafra. I understand."

Not exactly an order, but...

“There they are again.” Verona said excitedly.

She pointed to the brightly coloured birds running in the distance. The small herd stopped and looked towards them, cocking their heads while the other caught up. It was strange to watch them all stop and stare at their small convoy. Something spooked a bird at the rear and they ran away again.

“Hmm.” Verona gently rubbed her chin. “I want to have a chat with Ceccitol. See what she has to say.”

Before Anton could inquire further Verona whipped her horse forward towards Ceccitol. She began speaking with the Dark Elf and pointing towards the rainbow coloured birds, Ceccitol nodding in understanding.

“I wonder what she’s planning this time.” Kal said softly.

When she turned to Anton she tilted her head. Anton was lost in thought, thinking about their allies to the west. Now he was free of Atros his mind was constantly drawn to it.

The lack of information coming out of Qaiviel, that everything’s fine yet Duchess Belinda is not responding to our messages and has failed to return…it fills me with concern. Is this still fallout from intervening in the Clansmen and Orc invasion?

Anton glanced over his shoulder, looking past the thin smoke trails of Atros, the only beacon of light and civilization in this land, to the Accursed Forest beyond.

“What is happening over there?”

Kal nor Cetina had an answer.

Chapter 119 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 119 Pt.1:

Marcus’s body shifted backwards, sliding back along the saddle as his legs dug into the stirrup to anchor himself of his rearing horse. The ear-splitting scream of the horse beneath his legs disoriented him for an instant. An instant too long. A crude iron-tipped spear found a tiny crack in its armour and dug deep into the poor beasts’ flesh. He relinquished his shield and pulled himself forward, forcing the wounded horse back onto the ground. Marcus slammed his Chelium sword straight into the helmet of the stunned attacker. Their eyes locked, for a moment, before the blue sword cleaved through iron, bone and brain. Blood gushed from the wound, running down the instantly dimmed face and staining his white clothes before he slumped to his knees. Marcus’s body shifted forward again as the horse missed its front footing and crumpled forward, the wound was much worse than he first thought.

Lucky bastard.

Another enemy charged from the side, an iron-tipped spear raised above a crazed young man. Marcus knew the look in his eyes; the poor young boy had been consumed by the frenzy and madness of the battle raging around them. Behind him another two soldiers charge at him, they only had poor quality iron swords and iron-rimmed wooden shields. Not the strongest weapons but more than enough to kill him if he was unarmed. Marcus tried to rip the sword free from the slumped soldier but it wouldn’t budge. Bone had pinned it tight, with every tug the dead man’s body rolled around limp, his jaw flapped open with blood rolling down his chin. Marcus couldn’t just dismount from his horse, the stirrups were designed to keep him attached to his horse no matter if it reared or bucked in the heat of combat.

With a mighty heave, Marcus freed the blade, tearing apart the dead man’s head from the front to the back. Great beads blood dripped off the shining blue blade as Marcus readied to strike as he struggled to get free. The lead soldier screamed an unintelligible cry, raising his spear to strike before his eyes twitched to the side. He disappeared in flash of black and silver. A Black Riders Knight smashed through the spearmen and carried him over a dozen feet. Stupefaction drenched his face as he slipped from the horse’s chest and onto the ground, mangled into a bloody pulp by the horse's black hooves. The Black Rider Knight didn’t stop and continued charging into the next group of hostiles. The two swordsmen took a moment to recover, time Marcus used to free himself from his wounded horse by cutting the stirrups free. The Chelium blade cut through the hardened leather like a hot knife through soft cheese. Even if it left the straps attached to his legs.

Both swordsmen snapped to Marcus. The charge at him again, Marcus felt disgusted that he had already cut down dozens of these foolish youngsters. Children, really, forced into battle without even the most basic of experience to fight against hardened soldiers. Piles of their dead fellows were a testament to their stupidity.

“Come on then!” Marcus yelled. “If you want to die like everyone else!”

His shout, over the clamour of the whirlwind of a battle surrounding them, gave them pause. Marcus stepped over his still wounded horse, a bloody foam forming on its lips, and took up his shield. It wasn’t the best shield, the balance was off and it was too light compared to what he normally used but it was better than nothing. When the swordsmen realised their mistake they screamed and charged.

Marcus raised his shield. One of the swordsmen reached him first. His sword raised over his head in an amateurish attempt to swing down. Marcus stepped forward and took the strike with the shield. Through his arm, he felt the strike, a decent strength. Perhaps one day he might have been a good knight or soldier.

But they would never get that chance.

Marcus raised his shield and pushed the sword up, leaving his opponent open. Despite his lack of training, he understood exactly the implications. The blue Chelium sword pierced his light padded cloth armour and through his sternum. A single cough and one was dead, even if he had yet to realise it. The second swordsmen didn’t see or understand what happened but had to move to the side to attack. Marcus twisted the collapsing body into his path, using the momentum of the falling body to rip the blade free with a mighty spurt of blood. He hit something very important.

“Wha-”

Marcus knew never to hesitate in battle, a lifetime of fighting the Deweth Clansmen had taught him that crucial skill. He kicked the dead man into the path of the swordsmen, the body colliding with his legs and causing him to tumble. Marcus swung again and found the swordsman’s neck. This time there was no look of horror or understanding, his head simply fell off. Marcus stepped to the side as the spurting headless corpse sprayed his horse with its blood, the head rolling aimlessly on the trodden and bloody grass.

Marcus breathed deep and glanced around the battlefield, such as it was. Nearly every enemy soldier was dead. Just like the unfortunate two lying at his feet none were trained. Yet there were a lot of them.

Numbers do count for something, but not like this.

Black Rider Knights charged through the scattered lines. Their black horses, adorned with black full body armour, cut the remains of Harold and Giles’s army and the Church’s army to ribbons. Squires, those too young and inexperienced to command a horse, or in Marcus’s opinion still too young to even think of growing a beard, formed large groups of infantry armed with longswords and halberds decimated the white-clothed enemy that dared to approach, staining everything red. In the middle of those groups, Pages, some who were truly children, readied and fired crossbows from the safety of their human shields. It took the Church soldiers some time to realise the source of the bolts but they couldn’t respond. The small armoured groups were completely unassailable by the enemy and tore through the enemy lines.

“Who’s even left?” Marcus asked aloud. There was little he could see through the slit in his helmet but he wasn’t about to remove it. His predecessor lost his life that way against the Clansmen. A single swipe with a rusted axe and his head separated from his body. That image had stuck with him ever since.

As Marcus turned to his horse his back screamed in pain. He knew this sensation all too well, he was not uninitiated to cuts. Marcus dropped his shield, twirled his Chelium sword in his hands and stabbed along his side. His thrust found resistance, a warm fleshy resistance. Marcus reached back with his free hand and grabbed the hand holding the blade. His metal gauntlet found an unguarded hand. A faint relief filled his head, no one on their side had unarmored hands.

"You fucking traitor." A hot, gurgling breath brushed against his helmet. "The Holy Father will take your soul to damnation."

"After what I saw in the palace damnation doesn't worry me." Marcus twisted the blade, eliciting a pathetic whimper from his attacker. "Do you even know what that word means? Or are you just repeating what those priests tell you?"

Marcus never received an answer. The hand fell limp and slid off his body, the dagger pulled down and free from the body. It was another young man, barely in his eighteenth winter. The first hints of a beard, patchy and mismatched hair, barely recognizable underneath the blood that seeped from his mouth. One of his arms had been cut clean off and his white shirt twisted tight around the wound. Fresh wet blood still leaked from the wound.

"You actually fight like that?" Marcus spoke aloud. The noise of the battle was still too great for anyone nearby to hear.

After checking that no one else could attack him he inspected his horse. The beast lay still and silent, not even a shallow breath escaped its lips, only a thick bloody foam.

"I'm sorry." Marcus gently patted its back. "I hope it wasn't too painful."

Death by drowning was, by all accounts, an unpleasant end. Doubly so when it was your own blood. At least a person could be comforted as they died. Infinitely harder when the victim couldn't understand a word. Marcus's shoulder wound throbbed, the reminder of the power of heretical blood magic.

"My Lord Marcus!" A voice cried out over the clamour.

Five knights, four in black armour and one in silver with a large blue flame on his chest, charged towards them. Five church spearmen moved to intercept. Even though their weapons were crude compared to theirs a charge would likely wound or kill the horses if they found a chink in the armour. Like his had.

Castor, his second in command and wearing his silver Blue Firestorm armour, pointed his sword at the spearmen. Marcus had believed his fiery tendencies had diminished after the last Clansmen invasion.

The spearmen, however, were not well trained or even poorly trained. Against the five massive beasts thundering towards them, the very ground shaking beneath his armoured boots, the conscripted spearmen could not hold their nerve. Four ran towards Marcus as fear broke their reason, one brave soul stayed behind but immediately felt the loss of his fellows. He bravely stood his ground as the Knights rode either side. Castor swung his sword down and cleaved the man's head clean off. The remaining four were trampled into the ground. Marcus saw the faces contorted with fear and surprise, unable to understand what was happening.

With the last of the obstacles gone Castor and his escort reached Marcus.

"Marcus." Castor stopped on the other side of Marcus's dead horse. "The enemy had been routed."

Marcus surveyed the battle. Before he could have generously said there were a few holdouts. Now they had well and truly broken.

"Yes." Marcus wiped the blood from his blade onto a piece of cloth hanging from his horse. "It seems everything went well this time. Except for him."

"Dead?"

"Single spear. Got right through the armour and punctured a lung. Poor thing bled to death. Might have even hit the heart."

"That's a shame. Do you want a spare horse to chase down the enemy?"

Marcus waved him down. "No. I think I've had enough for today."

He looked up at the sun. It hanged directly over his head yet he didn't feel much warmth, not like in summer at least. With the same certainty that the sun would rise and fall, so too would the season's change.

"If they give us that chance," Castor spoke glumly, pointing his sword to the south. "Before riding out I heard from one of the scouts there might be another force coming."

"Word is it's the same size as this one." A Black Rider knight spoke gruffly.

"See to finishing the rout," Marcus commanded. "I'll return to the castle on foot. See to our wounded and fallen."

Castor nodding and signalled the other knights. With a whip of their reins, they were off again, chasing a bloodstained army into the distance.

Once Marcus was certain that Castor had left he relaxed and leant against his dead horse.

"I'm getting too old for this," Marcus grumbled. "Too old to keep fighting like this. Soon I should have been handing things over to Castor and continue training the recruits. And now this shit has..."

Marcus had no more words. He lifted his visor and breathed the dusty and blood-soaked air.

If I stop here that's going to be it for today. Better keep moving.

With a few groans, and pushing hard against the horse, Marcus hauled himself up. The Black Rider Squires and Pages roamed through the now otherwise still field. Every so often they would stop at a body before plunging a blade into their throat. Thankfully it was always the Church soldiers rather than their own. Very few had fallen, thanks in no small part to their equipment and training and lack thereof in their opponents. As their side began recovering the dead and dying the wailing began. At first, merely a hum, the sound of his heavy breathing was enough to drown it out. Very quickly it grew until Marcus was all but certain he had crossed into some sort of nightmare. Bloody hands and stumps reached for the sky. Those wearing black armour were lifted from the tangled mess of bodies. Those wearing white were killed without mercy. They had barely enough medical supplies for themselves. This way was better, not that Marcus would agree if he was lying on the ground. He raised his blade to the sun. The number slain by his hand that day Marcus had simply lost count. And despite the blood, fat and brains collecting on its surface it retained a perfect edge.

"You can only find Chelium in the Clans and the Kar Kingdom. I wonder how much it cost?" Marcus looked at the bodies around him, several dressed in white still wriggled and squirmed. "But it wasn't meant for this."

Marcus sheathed his blade and slowly walked to the north towards Castle Étoile, home of the Black Riders Knight Order. As Marcus gently waded through the bodies he took the time to study the marvel from the outside. It clearly wasn’t made by Qaiviel hands, it was simply too different to everything else. During a lull between the battles, a Black Rider Knight told him that it had been made during the pinnacle of the United Kingdom, a demonstration of the wealth and power that fabled kingdom once wielded. The castle was more akin to a small city than just a castle. Huge multilayered walls made from black stone, spires ever few hundred feet manned with ballistae and crossbows. Anyone attempting to take the castle would first have to cross the gauntlet and then actually breach the walls. After multiple layers and choke-points, the final castle would then be needed to be breached. Nothing short of a determined army could even hope to take the castle.

While Marcus would have preferred to stay inside the safety of the castle walls they didn’t have the luxury. The Church deployed their force to surround the castle, not completely but it was enough. A small detachment of allied soldiers and knights were intercepted on their way to Castle Étoile. If they didn’t ride out the forces would have been annihilated. And they needed every morsel of strength and warm body they could get their hands on.

Marcus realized that he reached the edge of the battlefield already. All of a sudden the blood, the bodies and trodden grass stopped. The lush green grass that Marcus knew and their horses loved returned. Before him stood a Black Rider Knight, his arms folded as his grim face surveyed the battlefield. Behind him Squires and Pages moved about, preparing the wounded and dead for transport back to the castle. Some glanced at him, their hands moved to their longswords or crossbows. A grunt from the Knight was enough for everyone to return to their work.

“They thought you were one of them.” The Knight said, his voice growled deeply. “Everyone that we’ve been fighting the past few days has been wearing white. You might want to consider changing that.”

The Knight pointed to Marcus’s chest, specifically the blue fire emblem.

Marcus laughed. “I’ve worn this every day since I received my knighthood. Would you wear mine if things were the other way around?”

The Knight pondered for a moment. “No.” A slight smile crept over his scared, bearded face. “I suppose not.”

“Did we get everyone from the detachment?”

“Almost. I think we lost four or five. A few stray arrows. Not bad. And when they were down these idiots swarmed over them.” The Knight scoffed at the dead Church soldiers. “Worse than rabble, in my opinion. I’ve seen drunken women fight better in a tavern brawl.”

“Yours seemed to do alright.” Marcus nodded at the Squires. Though their faces were somewhat obscured by their helms he knew that some were women. So too were several of the pages, but none of the Knights.

“Bernard doesn’t care. The Black Riders don’t care. So long as you are strong and willing to fight and kill in the name of the true King.”

“You aren’t worried about…incidents?”

“Have you ever heard of one while you’ve been here?”

“No.”

“Because they know how to handle themselves.” The Knight dismissively waved his hand. “These aren’t some frail weaklings.”

The women they had could be generously be called rugged.

“And our losses?”

The Knight looked back to the wounded Black Riders. “Fifteen Squires, twelve Pages and three Knights. And a lot more wounded.” The Knight shrugged. “Considering we had to go against nearly a thousand I think we did pretty well.”

If our order had to go against a thousand Clansmen I’d expect more losses. Just goes to show how poor these soldiers are.

“We’ll be taking them back soon. As soon as your subordinate returns.”

Marcus turned to the south. In the distance, the Black Rider Knights had finished off the remains of the routed Church army. The last white clothed soldier fell to a halberd swipe. A cheer rang out through the air. Castor, the only Knight wearing something other than black, waved his sword at Castle Étoile. Castor was smiling when he stopped several feet from Marcus.

“We got them all!” Castor laughed, the Black Rider’s cheered, though Marcus could see that they and their horses were tired. Many had arrowheads jutting from their hide. “Not a single enemy managed to escape.”

“And their commander?” Marcus asked. “I saw him at the back but I didn’t see him go down.”

Castors murmured with a quick glance back. “I don’t know. It was quite messy near the end. Who knows, maybe he’s somewhere out there and trampled into the rest of them.”

“There’s not much that we can do about it either way. If everything’s finished here I think we should head back inside the castle. Especially if there’s another force coming this way.”

Castor groaned. “Another? How can they just keep throwing men at us? Aren’t they going to run out soon?”

Marcus pointed at the nearest dead Church soldier. Castor and the other Black Rider Knights frowned, unable to understand his intention.

“That isn’t a soldier.”

“Really?” A Knight next to Castor laughed. Soon they all were.

Marcus shook his head. “Even someone that’s had some basic training wouldn’t have made the mistakes that they did. These are farmers, serfs, bondsmen, whatever you want to call them, given a weapon and thrown into battle with us. It’s remarkable that we lost as many as we did with our enemy being such poor quality.”

“But there were so many of them,” Castor said softly.

“Their only advantage.” The Knight behind Marcus grumbled.

“I fear that this war is going to destroy the Qaiviel Kingdom.” Marcus sighed. “There won’t be anyone left by the end. But there’s not much we can do now.”

“Do you want a horse?” The Knight asked. “I can see that your previous fell.”

“A tiny hole in its armour and it’s dead. Just like us…I think I’ll walk.” Marcus stretched his arms. “I need to clear my head.”

“I would order you to take a horse.” The Knight folded his arms again. “But I’m not your commander. Bernard told us to treat you like our second in command. If you were I’d tell you to take the horse.”

Very subtle.

Marcus took a step and felt the full weight of the fight crush down upon him. “I think I will take that horse.”

---[]---

A horn blared from Castle Étoile. Huge metal chains clanked and rattled, eight burly men turned a giant handle to open only one side of the large iron gate. Why they even had two and not a single gate Marcus had no idea. Perhaps the United Kingdom had so much manpower, perhaps even magical devices, something like this was standard.

The Knights spread out immediately after passing the gate. A small army of men and women, dressed in loose black clothing, rushed to their side. Attendants. Members of the Knight Orders that were not involved in fighting but in the day to day running of the castles. Things that Squires and Pages had no spare time to do. The Blue Firestorm Order had many, but Marcus made sure that they knew how to use a bow or crossbow, just in case the Clansmen tried to breach the walls. It helped their morale too, made them feel like they were an actual part of the Order. Which they were.

“My Lords.” An elderly assistant shuffled towards them. “Please let us take the horses and your armour. You need to recover your strength. Bernard is waiting for you in the central castle.”

“I’m surprised that he didn’t join this battle.” Marcus allowed the assistants to help him down, an ungraceful affair. “I know he doesn’t revel in bloodshed but I’m sure he would have come.”

“I’m afraid that he said he was needed to remain at King Leo’s side.”

“…I see.”

Marcus frowned as Castor dismounted from his horse. Attendants began to take off the outer metal layer of their armour. They were battered and stained with blood. The cloth padding was more than enough to keep him safe inside the castle and allow him essentially unrestricted movement.

“Has Leo said anything?”

The attendant frowned and looked away. “I’m afraid not, my lords. He has done very little since arriving here apart from eating and sleeping. And even then only at our behest. He just stares out the window.”

“We need him to start acting like a king.” Marcus felt the attendants look oddly at him, whispering amongst themselves wondering why he had stirrups still attached to his legs. “Otherwise this whole Kingdom will fall to ruin.”

The Squires and Pages arrived soon after with the dead and wounded. The dead were covered with a cloth after their armour was stripped from their bodies. Marcus understood the pragmatism but it still felt disrespectful. The wounded had their damaged sections removed and were swarmed with attendants. Principle Mages, focusing on the Principle of Life, emerged and began healing the wounded. These were not members of The Church of the Holy Father, instead, they were mages that had learned their craft in Bebbezzar or beyond. Those that knew the Principle of Life outside of the Church were few and far between. And yet the Black Riders had over ten, truly they had money to spare.

Those with cuts and light wounds were treated with herbs like Shimmer Soral. It was nowhere near as effective as magic but it was far better than nothing. Some groaned and whimpered as the green leaves were applied, the attendants tried their best to silence them. Those that were uninjured continued into a small barracks, Marcus saw them flop onto beds still in their full armour. Men and women slept in the same rooms without a single care. Some of the pages didn’t enter, instead taking up seats outside and began crafting arrows and bolts.

“There’s nothing we can do here, Castor. Let’s go see the King.”

The elderly attendant led them through the winding passages to the central castle. The interior was very sparsely furnished, only what was absolutely necessary and nothing more. Simple seating and lots of room for weapons and sparing for when it rained. They travelled up a flight of stone stairs, winding and spinning seemingly without end until they reached the top. With a mighty heave, the attendant pushed the heavy wooden door open. Like everything in Castle Étoile the room was open and furnished sparsely. A large round wooden table lay in the middle on top of the cold, hard stone floor, with many simple chairs spaced evenly around it. Sitting directly in front was Leo, the official King of Qaiviel, staring silently out the large open balcony to the blue sky beyond. Noah, a young Page from the Golden Roar Knight Order, stood attentively at his side, worry deeply ingrained on his young face. Even though Marcus was all but sure that the Golden Roar had fallen in line with Harold and Giles alongside the Church he trusted Noah. Despite the conflict he retained his old colours, Marcus didn’t really mind that but Noah wasn’t allowed sharp implements, just in case. Bernard stood near the open window, still wearing his black armour with his arms folded. It appeared to be something all the Black Rider Knights did. With a small bow, the attendant ushered them inside and closed the door. Bernard and Noah turned to face them, Leo continued to stare blankly into the sky.

“Marcus,” Bernard spoke flatly. The normal growl in his voice had lessened. “Yet another enemy force shattered?”

“Yes. But I was told there might be another one. Today too.”

“The Church appears to have lost their collective minds.” An elderly voice spoke from the shadows. Alfred, Duchess Belinda’s elderly butler, moved forward with a deep frown on his face. “I watched from the battlements. Were they really that inept?”

“Inept and hopelessly trained.” Marcus slowly approached Leo from behind, the King didn’t move, apart from shallow breathing. “All they have are numbers.”

Alfred nodded slowly, a memory from long ago flashed over his eyes. “Reminds me of my first Centaur Invasion. Men were just thrown into battle without any real training…And the lands ran red with their blood.”

“But there were always more,” Bernard grumbled. “Just like this time.”

Bernard sighed. He thumped the stone wall with his fist and moved to the table. “This isn’t going to end well.”

"I have made contact with every mercenary force that I know." Alfred began. "But many have been bought already."

"Can't you just pay them more?" Bernard asked. Marcus was sure he already knew the answer.

Alfred shook his wizened head and sighed. "To a mercenary, their contract is their life. If they gained a reputation of changing sides they would never be hired again. A few, less scrupulous mercenary bands follow that practice. I, personally, wouldn't want them beside me."

Bernard grumbled, tapping the table with a mailed finger. "I have already contacted every Knight Order that I know will listen. Our..." Bernard winced ever so slightly. "Reputation leaves much to be desired. I'm sure the Green Vipers and the Wolf's Howl will join us. What of yours, Marcus?"

"The Blue Firestorm will fight. As will the Grey Dawn and White Lightning. Though we need to leave a portion of our forces to counter potential Clansmen attack, I consider this unlikely given their crushing defeat."

"Yes..." Bernard looked at Alfred. "And does Duchess Belinda truly believe that this...Anton, will be able to help us?"

"A great deal." Alfred smiled. "He and two...women came to our rescue during the Clansmen and Orc invasion without the promise of reward. Without them, we wouldn't have been prepared and Maxill would have fallen, allowing them to spread out and devastate the Kingdom before the Knight Orders could rally."

"Is that the person that Duchess Belinda was accused of..." Noah trailed off, aware that nearly all the attention now lay on him. Except for Leo who continued to stare endlessly into the blue sky.

"Yes." Alfred warmly smiled at the boy. "But they aren't evil. Not at all. If Duchess Belinda can reach them and convince them to join this war will be much easier." Alfred sighed. "This would be so much easier if The Church hadn't destroyed that pen."

"So that was an artefact," Bernard said. "It seems they spoke the truth."

"Indeed." Alfred smiled. "The King...Former king, I'm sure knew it to be true but wanted to put them back in their place."

"For what good it did." Bernard thumped a fist into the wooden table.

"Without that pen, the only way to contact them is physically. And that will take some time. But I'm sure my lady will convince them to join us."

"So long as..." Castor awkwardly shuffled. "So long as no one says anything stupid."

"Yes...I don't think we'll be doing that again."

Bernard raised a brow and looked at Alfred.

"He wasn't too impressed by Castor calling the two women unworthy of attending a meeting."

Castor flexed his hands and looked away. Even Noah looked oddly at him.

But it cooled your head a little bit. Especially after losing that bow. Seems to have been a worthwhile trade.

"We cannot rely on strange mages from far-away lands." Bernard pushed off the table and looked out the window. "Even if it would help. For now, we must rely on what we have. Thankful the Cabal of Mages have stayed neutral."

"Not surprising," Alfred said. "Given how The Church sought to control them. And when that didn't work they tried to demonize them."

"Better that they stay neutral rather than join Harold and Giles." Leo's finger twitched to Bernard's words, the first real sign he was listening. "But staying neutral won't be an option for long."

"Indecision has always plagued the Cabal." Alfred sighed.

A knock came from a small wooden door to the side. Noah raced to it while everyone rested a hand on their weapons, even Alfred had a short sword underneath his clothes.

Noah opened the door with some trepidation. His face brightened as a platter of steaming hot food was passed over by a servant. She bowed before closing the door. Noah trotted happily over to Leo and placed it before him. Not a single reaction came from the King.

"My King," Noah spoke softly. "You must eat. Otherwise, you will waste away."

Leo said nothing. Marcus moved behind Noah, Leo's eyes were vacant and hollow.

Noah's fingers twitched erratically as he looked between Leo and Marcus. "Per-Perhaps I should show you that the food is safe. And not poisoned. That worked last time!"

Noah chuckled nervously, the noise echoed in the otherwise silent room. Noah took a fork and stabbed at the succulent piece of steak.

"Why?" Leo spoke barely louder than a whisper.

Noah coughed as he chewed on the meat. "My King?"

"Why did they do it?" Marcus had to lean close to understand the words. "My brothers. And my mother. Why?"

"I..." Noah was lost for words. "I don't know, my King."

This seems like the first words he's spoken since we've fled the capital. Can't let this fall.

"I believe they were seduced." Marcus began, Leo eyes slowly turned to him while his head remained stationary. "By allure of power. Giles and Harold were second and third in line to the throne. You, being first, would have received everything while they would be left with nothing. It might have taken some time but people like Terrill and Abeau could have used that to worm their way into their minds."

"But..." Leo gently shook his head. "I thought we loved each other. We'd always been friends, always. Even Harold."

"Things...Can change over time. You may have been so close that you didn't see it."

Leo nodded once. "And my mother? Why did she kill my father? I thought she loved..."

"I...Don't know about that either. But," Marcus tapped Noah on the shoulder and gently pulled him to one side. He dropped to one knee and waited until Leo looked straight at him. "But the only place to find out the truth is out there. You aren't going to find it in the sky."

Leo took another deep breath. "But what do I do?"

"First, you eat all the food on that plate. Then you lead. You need to be out there, so your people know that the Kingdom has not fallen to madness. I don't expect you to be out the front, swinging your sword and cleaving heads, but you need to be there. With us. Fighting. Otherwise, you might as well head back to the capital and surrender to your brothers. We can't win this war for you, but we can help every step you take."

Leo pursed his lips, some semblance of life returned to his eyes. But he did not eat. He needed another push but Marcus was out of ideas. And if he just kept going it might do more harm than good.

"My King,” Noah spoke as softly as Leo just had. “I know that you are suffering…But so is everyone else. I’ve watched the people fleeing the capital, the terror in their faces as they run to the east. They need your help.”

Leo moved but he still wasn’t there yet. Marcus gave Noah a gentle bump.

“But you can’t just let the people suffer!” Marcus was surprised by Noah’s outburst. “You are the King. The man that I serve, even though my friends in the Golden Roar are probably going to fight against us, is the King. No matter what anyone else says. And I don’t want my King to be stuck here while the people, which you are meant to protect, suffer and die.”

Noah, that was…

Leo frowned and reached for the fork. Without hesitation, even though Noah hadn’t tested it, he stabbed the meat and tore it through without abandon. He didn’t care that he looked like a ravenous and starving animal. Noah looked nervously at Marcus but a smile slowly crept up her face.

“Bernard,” Leo spoke through mouthfuls of food. “Marcus. Tell me…No. As the King, tell me what I should do now?”

“Right now we need more soldiers.” Bernard began. “Our Knight Orders are strong but the enemy outnumbers us. We need to even that disadvantage.” He turned to Alfred. “And there is only so much that mercenaries can do.”

“I don’t think we have enough money to buy them from Bebbezzar.” Alfred sighed. “Giles and Harold have the entire royal treasury at their disposal. And we have…little, by comparison.”

“Okay.” Leo tore off another piece of meat. “Where are these attacks coming from?”

“A city to the south,” Bernard said.

“It’s actually a cathedral,” Castor added. “I’ve been there. It’s pretty big. And so is the city and farmlands around it.”

“Explains how they got so many people,” Bernard grumbled. “But it needs to be secured so we can move on the capital.”

Leo stopped, hunched over his plate of food, and looked up.

“Harold and Giles, and Valérie are the source of this war. Kill them and the Church will lose their power and legitimacy.”

“We don’t have enough men to take the capital,” Alfred said softly. “Even if all the Knight Orders that have agreed to aid us attack as one, we will likely lose. The defences are impressive.”

Leo tapped the knife on the table. “We…We can’t attack it yet. We aren’t strong enough. So what to do…We need to get stronger. Tell me honestly, what are our chances of recruiting more soldiers? Even if they are of poor quality.”

“In the south and western regions, good,” Alfred replied. “There are many people that would eagerly fight for the prospect of freedom from their bondage. So we should be able to get significant numbers from there. From around the capital and further west, it’s very unlikely. They are underneath the thrall of The Church of the Holy Father. It’s likely the only people we would get from there would be spies and saboteurs. We cannot count on anyone from that region.”

Noah squeaked lightly.

“Don’t worry.” Leo smiled faintly at Noah. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this without much money…but, Alfred, you manage Duchess Belinda’s holdings. Is it possible?”

“Absolutely. We may need to take on loans from the Wood Elves though. Not that it gives me much joy to think of owing them gold, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

Leo continued eating. “And…What of this Anton? If we have this powerful mage surely we could move on the capital right away.”

Alfred made a noise. “It is my personal opinion that, while he might be very powerful, I don’t think he’s very skilled. Raw power over finesse. I know of several mages that could probably kill him in a one on one fight. Provided he doesn’t hit them first. It is…a wild card. But more than effective against the normal foes we may face.”

“And Duchess Belinda can get him here?”

“I believe in her.” Alfred smiled. “I’m sure she will come to an arrangement.”

“We should not act like this mage will be helping us,” Bernard said softly. “Just in case something’s happened, our strategy shouldn’t rely on such an outside force. We should plan to win the war without the aid of this mage.”

Makes sense. Plan for the worst and hope for the best. If we think there’s going to be saviour coming we might make foolish mistakes on the off-chance that it can be quickly fixed. Leo needs calm heads for the future.

“Okay.” Leo nodded. “It’s about time I actually do something. Now, I remember you, Bernard, saying something about a war council.”

“Yes, My King.”

“Then I’d like you to assemble one.” Leo rammed the last of the meat into his face. “I don’t know who would be best, so I’ll have to trust your judgement.”

Bernard bowed deeply. “I will repay the trust you have placed in me. I recommend Marcus, Alfred and Castor, for now. I know I can trust them. And each has their field of expertise that we will need for the civil war and beyond.”

Oh?

Before Marcus could speak the heavy door groaned open. A swift hand reached for his blade. A young attendant, a pretty young girl dressed in the same clothes as the elderly attendant, breathed heavily with sweat dripping off her brow.

“Forgive me, My Lords, My King. But…” She took a deep breath, almost retching from exertion. “But the enemy is sending another army. This is the largest yet. Scouts…Scouts say that there are over eight thousand. With simple siege ladders.”

“That’s too many for us to deal with outside the walls,” Marcus said. “Not to mention our horses are dead tired.”

“So are the soldiers,” Castor added.

“We only exited the castle to rescue to mercenary forces.” Bernard tapped the pommel of his blade. “So we will fight from the walls. It seems they are willing to come to us, so why not let them.”

Leo slammed his hands on the table, the clang of the metal plate startled Noah into a girlish squeak. “Noah. Get some armour. It’s time the King stopped being such a little girl.”

Chapter 119 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 119 Pt.2:

Marcus, once again in his Blue firestorm armour, reached the second most outer wall. Castor and Bernard followed closely behind. Leo and Noah had retired to the armour so Leo could be fitted with armour. As Leo didn’t have personal armour yet he would have to settle for a refitted set, not something befitting a king but he would have to settle. Given his change, Marcus doubted he would complain. A page, a large crossbow in his hands, led them up to a short tower capable of overlooking the battle. The page gave a small bow and left, probably to return to his post.

“What do they have?” Marcus said to himself.

In his hand lay a spyglass, gifted to him by Alfred. Such a strange contraption was beyond the work of Qaiviel. This piece of metal and glass had travelled all the way from Graterious, the long way too. Marcus followed Alfred’s instructions and raised the smaller end to his eye. A gasp escaped his lips as the world grew larger but only in that eye. It took Marcus a moment to realise that he could only look through one eye at a time.

“The scouts were wrong,” Marcus grumbled. “There are nine to ten thousand enemy soldiers approaching. How, how many do we have?”

“If we muster everyone a little over three thousand. With those extra forces that we saved, that brings it to three thousand eight hundred.”

“With walls and towers like this it should compensate for the lack of soldiers,” Castor spoke weakly. “Right?”

“It should.” Marcus slowly overserved the rear lines. “I don’t see any mages at the back. Only a few archers as well. But…There’s the prick. I knew he wasn’t dead.”

Marcus found the commander at the very rear of the wide enemy force. He wore priest attire, mixed with normal infantry officer armour, but his face was covered in dirt and deep scratches. His eyes burned with the fury of impending revenge, to wash away his humiliation of retreating with his tail between his legs. Nevertheless, he remained protected by fifty actual soldiers. Unlike the conscripts fanning out in great and cumbersome lines, these wore almost full armour and wielded impressive swords and shields.

“We need someone to keep an eye on him,” Marcus said. “Just in case he runs away again. And I don’t think we should let those soldiers protecting him get onto the walls.” Marcus lowered the spyglass. “I respect your Squires and Pages but I don’t think they’ll get away uninjured against them.”

Bernard nodded. “I’ll let them know. I’m sure my Squires will be able to handle them.”

“I sure hope so.”

Marcus looked through the spyglass again. There was something in the eyes of these soldiers. A subdued fury. Even madness, one that made Marcus very nervous.

The rest of the enemy line was far less impressive. They looked identical to those Marcus had spent the morning slaying like a farmer cutting wheat. No real armour, perhaps a bit of old leather or a thick piece of cloth underneath a matching uniform of white. It definitely wasn’t expensive cloth, they had no need to spend money on a force that was largely disposable, but at least they could determine friend from foe.

And that works in our favour too.

At the front were the siege weapons, such as they were. These were not catapults or trebuchets, not even a siege tower. Large wooden ladders were suspended between dozens of conscript soldiers. The wood appeared as fresh as the soldiers. While they were definitely large enough to breach the first wall Marcus doubted how effective they would really be.

“Even if they reach the first wall they’re just going to have to get past the second. Without the ladders.”

There were no connections between the first and second layer of the fortress, so even if they held the outer wall it meant nothing. They would simply have to run through another hailstorm of bolts and arrows to reach a stone wall that they had no hope of breaching. That thought alone worried Marcus. Surely they knew that. So why fight like this? Why not just surround and starve them out? Not that Marcus had any plans to die in such an ignoble way.

“I will head to the front and command the defence from there.” Bernard began walking away. “If you see any areas that are falling don’t hesitate to send those mercenaries in.”

Marcus raised a brow and Bernard pointed down. Waiting in the courtyard between the two walls, now devoid of the dead and wounded, several hundred mercenaries idly waited for instructions. Unlike the Knight Order their armour and weapons were mismatched and of grimy. However, Marcus knew that it was foolish to judge them on appearance alone.

Alfred, once being a mercenary himself, wouldn’t hire some rabble.

Thankfully the mercenaries were close enough to hear Marcus yell. He took up the spyglass again as the enemy reached the maximum range of the ballistae and catapults. Bernard, towering over the rest of his Knights and Squires manning the outer wall, waved at the small towers. A page raised a small red flag high. The same red flag repeated across the small towers.

A shout came from the enemy force and the assault began. A spattering of soldiers stood near the front, waving their swords towards the castle. Ladder bearers lifted their heavy loads while shield bearing conscripts moved in front, only after heavy abuse by their commanders. Their shields were simple wooden constructs, only some had a metal bad to strengthen them slightly.

“It’ll stop some arrows at range, probably some bolts.” Marcus turned his spyglass to the ballistae towers. “But it’s not going to stop that.”

The ballistae groaned as the heavy steel-tipped wooden shaft pointed towards the approaching ladders. With a might thwack, the ballistae fired. Marcus could barely follow it with his eyes as it flew towards the enemy. The conscript’s eyes flicked up as the bolt broke through their simple wooden shields and impaled them into the ground. Four conscripted soldiers fell screaming, their bodies mashed against one another as blood poured from the wounds in their chests. Those around them stopped and stared as they died writhing in pain. The entire enemy army stopped and stared, Marcus could see the fear and terror ripple through their lines. They had not been told what they would face. What the Knight Orders were capable of.

And that was only one ballista.

The next ballistae fired, then the next and the next. Huge steel tipped bolts rained down upon the enemy. Marcus watched in a mix of admiration and horror as the conscript soldiers were cut down, their bodies torn to pieces, embedded into one another and into the ground, while panic consumed the enemy. Already the rear elements were beginning to back away. However, the ballistae took time to reload. And those behind the conscripts were actual soldiers.

“Forward!” Marcus heard faintly over the wind whistling through his armour. “Forward! Or face the wrath of The Holy Father! Only shedding the blood of these faithless scum can redeem your souls!”

Marcus grumbled and rolled his eyes. “Such standard tripe.”

“I could hear that from here,” Castor said softly. “How? It’s…”

Marcus used his spyglass again. “He must be using some sort of Wind magic. So he can throw his voice further. That means that he, or someone nearby, is a mage. We’d better be careful.”

The sound of boots on stone came from behind, rapidly ascending the stairs towards them. Castor drew his sword but they only found a young female Black Riders page. She didn’t have a crossbow, rather a small bow and a short sword at her side.

“My Lords, Bernard instructed me to be your messenger. In case you don’t want to shout the orders.”

Marcus nodded. “Tell Bernard that the enemy has a mage of some kind. Possibly some user of Wind Magic. Tell him to be wary.”

“Yes, My Lord.” The page nodded and ran down the stairs. Marcus caught her taking great pains to not slip and fall. Perhaps she had once already.

Marcus turned back to the battle. The enemy had regained some of their courage but it required constant threats and cajoling from the few armoured soldiers to keep them moving. The shield bearers moved to cover the ladder bearers. Another wave of ballistae bolts rained down and shattered more of the enemy, the catapults threw stone boulders, slowly soaring through the air and landing in the midst of the conscripts. They were so densely packed only a few could move out of the way. The bloody stone rolled through the ranks, catching a few unfortunate souls, before coming to a halt. Marcus caught the eye of the commander. His neck throbbed with anger, anger that they were being pummelled and they had yet to reach the wall.

The first of the Black Riders archers and crossbowmen began to fire at those carrying the ladders. If they fell the attack would falter before it even began. Many fell but the conscripts pried the shields from their dead fellows and held them upright, even if they could be barely called a shield. Marcus readied his sword as some of the ladders made it to the wall. The enemy heaved the heavy wooden ladders up, exposing themselves to a final volley of arrows and bolts. Some fell sideways, crushing more soldiers who had taken refuge underneath the wall.

“Do we head down there?” Castor asked.

Marcus gripped his sword handle. “Not yet. They still need to climb the ladders. And they’ll be exposed even more. If they can’t get onto the wall we don’t have anything to worry about. They’ll be wiped out before stepping foot inside the castle.”

Castor nodded and looked at the battle. Marcus felt his anguish; loyal soldiers would still suffer wounds and probably death.

The conscripts began the dangerous climb. Bernard and the other Knights directed the Pages to attack them first. Ladders shook and rattled, some fell down, as bodies desperately tried to hold on as the bolts and arrows raining down upon them. Despite their best efforts the first of the conscripts began breaching the wall. The Squires and Knights drew their weapons and swung at the hands and heads that popped up. Blood sprayed with every strike and the screams grew louder.

“Are we even needed?” Castor asked.

Some of the conscripts used the dead bodies slumped on the wall as shields to land on the wall. While there were only a few initially they rapidly grew in number and pushed them back by sheer weight of flesh.

“I think that’s us,” Castor said, turning to walk down the stone stairs. “We can’t let them get a foothold on the wall.”

“Take all the mercenaries.” Marcus laid the spyglass on the ground. It would likely get broken in the upcoming scuffles. “I’ll take the Knights and get them on their horses.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled. “They won’t be ready for that. They’re already committed to attacking the wall. So we’ll take out the commander. See what he has to say.”

“But if he’s a mage-”

“We’ll be fine.” Marcus tapped the blue emblem on his chest. “This isn’t just for show.”

---[]---

Marcus mounted the armoured horse, alongside forty Black Riders Knights. They had been loathed to retreat from the wall. Many were covered in blood and had already claimed many lives. When they saw the mercenaries coming to take their place they finally relinquished their positions. The conscripts, still pouring onto the wall, thought the knights were retreating. Their elation instantly faded as the mercenaries relieved their positions and demonstrated why they were such dangerous adversaries. Castor stayed with them and led the limited counter-attack. Marcus didn’t want the enemy completely pushed back, not yet at least.

“The horses don’t have much in them.” A Knight said to Marcus.

Marcus silently agreed. The horse beneath his legs trembled ever so slightly. Between the heavy armour and the days’ fighting, they were exhausted. However, their short break allowed them to recuperate some of their strength. It would have to be enough.

“We’re just going to capture the commander.” Marcus gripped the reins hard. “Once he’s gone these conscripts will lose the will to fight. Then it’ll be easy to round them up.”

“I hope so.”

In the distance, a catapult loosed its heavy load. The stone tumbled through the air followed by a sickening squish and snap.

“We’ll head out the eastern gate and charge straight at the enemy,” Marcus yelled at the Black Rider Knights. “Don’t engage the enemy on the way. We don’t have the strength to get bogged down dealing with a thousand farmers wielding spears.”

The Knights nodded grimly and lowered their helmets. Squires, wounded from the previous battle, groaned as they opened the metal eastern gate. Marcus wiped the reins and kicked his horse forward. With a slight protest, the beast followed his orders. The lingering sense of tiredness and exhaustion faded away. He kept his horse in a fast jog, not quite a run so it wasn’t too tired when it needed to charge.

Forty Knights followed close behind. Normally they would wield lances for their first charge then switch to swords but their lances lay out in the field, alongside several skewered corpses. As they passed the wall Marcus winced at the scale of the destruction wrought upon the enemy. Once green verdant ground ran red with blood, so too did the stone walls. Piles of white-clothed bodies grew around the base of the ladders. The conscripts had to climb over the soft and still writhing pile, probably over people they knew and worked with peacefully a few days ago, to start the climb, all the while forced on by the few soldiers with actual armour. Their steel shields deflected the arrows and bolts keeping them relatively safe. And free to scream at the conscripts to continue their near pointless attack. They had managed to expand their landing but it had cost them dearly. The Black Riders fought well as they slowly retreated. One of the conscripts turned back, wondering what the distant rumble was. Almost instantly a feeling of terror ran through their lines. Marcus had been on the receiving end of a cavalry charge, actually a centaur charge, and he nearly dropped everything and ran. The conscripts began to run the opposite way, along the castle walls to the west. Commanders tried to regain control but it was too late.

“Do not run!” A voice boomed from the rear. The commander of the attack waved his sword forward. “Do not falter! Do not give in to fear! Keep attacking! For the Holy Father!”

Marcus saw something dangle from the hilt of his sword. A charm, a small silver medallion. Though it was far away Marcus recognised it instantly. Thankfully it was small, unusually small, but it had a single grey gem embedded in the middle.

So he is a user of Wind magic. But it doesn’t look like he’s very good. Otherwise, he’d be using his magic to deflect the arrows and bolts. Either that or he’s just a coward.

There was no time to hesitate or retreat. Marcus was not allowing this man to run again. He held back his desire to break into a charge, so too were the Knights behind him. There was nothing in between the main force and the commander and his retinue. They still represented a potential threat but Marcus trusted they would tear through them with ease. Between a near equal number of Knights and swordsmen, the knights would win.

The Commander’s face drained of colour as he saw them approach unimpeded. He waved at the few archers that were still with him. All Marcus could think that this man was a coward through and through. The arrows flew and the charm on the Commander’s wrist glowed. The arrows shot forward, far faster than anything he had seen before. They struck his armour, they hit like a falling tree pushing him back but not free from his horse. His horse slowed too underneath the powerful strikes.

“So that’s it!” Marcus laughed, readying his sword. “But that’s all you can do!”’

“What are you waiting for?!” The man shrieked. “Fire!”

Another volley of arrows struck the charging Knights. Marcus heard someone tumble, the unmistakable sound of a horse screaming in pain, but he would not stop now. The armoured soldiers moved to protect him but it was too late.

Marcus whipped his horse into a charge, using all the energy the beast had left. The Commander cowered behind his soldiers as the thunderous hooves approached. Marcus readied his blade, infinitely glad that the enemy had no spears or pikes, swords would do little good against their armoured bodies. Marcus wrapped the reins around his left arm and swung down with his right, his strike coupled with the horse's speed and strength cleaved through the helmet of the first soldier. The Knights followed him, cutting through the swordsmen while trying their best not to trample the enemy commander to death. Marcus wouldn't have troubled dreams if he was mixed into the blood-soaked mud by accident. He pulled back hard on the reins, his horse protested loudly but followed his instructions. He waved the other Knights forward to attack the archers. These too were a mix of professional soldiers and conscripts, probably trappers and hunters judging by the range in equipment quality. While men screamed as they were cut down by the powerful strikes Marcus turned his attention to their prize. He laid underneath a headless corpse completely still, his eyes blank as he stared into the sky. His charm had been shattered somehow and with it his consciousness. Marcus made sure the area was mostly secure, the survivors were far more concerned with the Knights rampaging through their ranks than one lone dismounted Knight. Marcus relinquished his hold on the reins and jumped from his horse. The impact reminded him he wasn't a young man anymore. With his sword drawn he advanced on his target, wondering if he was actually still alive. Marcus smiled, unnoticeable underneath his helmet and kicked the body off him. The Commander's arm had been broken, broken when a Knight had swiped at his sword and sent it flying, along with the charm he had so foolishly worn around his wrist.

Surely no mage would be that stupid.

Marcus glanced to the faltering attack on the castle walls. More ground had been gained, the fleeing conscripts had been forced back into the attack but, overall, it appeared to be losing speed. There was just no way they could maintain such an intensity with so few numbers, doubly so when he watched white clothed bodies fall from the wall like droplets of rain.

Maybe he is that stupid. It would have been far better to wait for this army then attack. But he did try and stop the reinforcements from arriving.

Marcus looked to the armoured soldiers. They looked like normal men but something bothered him. Something about their eyes. He retrieved a severed head and ripped off the helmet. For a moment he feared they were one of the Church's Stitch soldiers, just the merest thought of them sent shivers down his spine, but his fears were mostly unfounded. Red blood leaked from the wound, not a sign of the writhing black worms, nor were there horrendous cuts and glowing stitches, the teeth were stained with spittle and blood rather than glowing purple. However the eyes, the eyes were bloodshot. Marcus saw something in his teeth, almost covered by the blood. It was a red plant-like material, a moss. But he had never seen a red moss before. He checked another head. That too had bloodshot eyes and flecks of red moss in their teeth.

"I wonder what you bastards have been up."

Marcus idly tossed the head away and lightly kicked the Commander. It roused him from his unconscious sleep, his eyes rolled in his head before snapping into focus.

"Where?" he asked, his mind still groggy from landing on the hard ground.

"Go back to sleep," Marcus grumbled.

He raised his boot over the Commander's head, a moment of recognition flashed over his eyes before Marcus slammed his foot down. Marcus he sure he was still breathing before tying him up with a loose piece of cloth and throwing him over the back of his horse. A Black Rider Knight stopped a few feet from Marcus as he attempted the difficult act of climbing back onto a horse without assistance.

"My Lord Marcus." The Knight and the beast between his legs were exhausted and breathed heavy and wet breaths. "The enemy is retreating. Do we pursue?"

No semblance of organization remained in the enemies rear lines. Those on the front were on the verge of collapse, the armoured commanders looked the most concerned now their rear was exposed.

"No. Let the others handle the enemy." Marcus patted the back of the Commander before mounting his horse on his second try, surprising everyone. "We have what we need."

The Knight nodded and shouted. The other Knights, delighted to run down the escapees, immediately began to return to their side. Marcus didn't wait until they had gathered before riding back to the castle. They took the same route as before, ignoring the panicking enemy conscripts who rightly feared a charge to their rear lines. As Marcus neared parallel to the castle walls he saw something he did not expect. Leo, in a set of Black Riders full plate armour, strode through the enemy lines on the wall, hacking and cleaving his way through the enemy. Though Marcus's first impressions of the boy were that of a joker and later a womanizer, he would have received combat training, training from experts from all around the world. Marcus saw techniques from Bebbezzar, Seocuria and even the Frindal Emirate, all mixing together in a dizzying display of murder. Still, he was only one person but the effect he had was undeniable. The conscripts saw the King, the rightful King, fighting like an elite warrior. The Black Riders took heart and cheered a mighty war cry. Knights and Squires smashed into the enemy lines while the Pages unleashed furious barrages on those still attempting the climb.

The enemy collapsed as Marcus passed the wall. They threw themselves from the wall, landing amongst the dead and dying, some impaling themselves on the arrows and bolts jutting from the corpses and began to run to the south. Even the armoured commanders had no choice to follow the collapsing army. Arrows and bolts harried them along the open plain until only the ballistae and catapults could reach. Marcus breathed easy as they entered the castle gates.

They had won.

---[]---

Marcus slumped the Commander into a chair. Squires and Pages swarmed the man and tied him down, checking him for any hidden weapons. When they were confident he was safe they backed away.

"How was your first fight?" Castor asked Leo.

Both men were covered in blood, head to toe. Now that the battle was over some attendants, not helping the wounded, began to clean away what blood they could. Marcus wanted to dismiss them but he knew what it was like to be soaked in blood, the way it grew sticky and the way it reeked...

"I..." Leo rested on his longsword. "I've never been in a real fight before. Not where the other person wanted to kill me. It's so..."

"Just keep breathing and you'll be fine." Castor tried to comfort the King.

Marcus knew the look in his eyes, the shaking of his limbs and quivering of his lips. The rush of battle, a dizzying high, had faded away. Now all he was left with was the cold and emptiness that followed. It was something Marcus experienced all too often during his youth, but now that he was older he barely felt it. Perhaps he was just so used to it now.

"Any idea when this little rat's going to wake up?" Bernard asked, leaning forward to inspect their prisoner.

Bernard had escaped without serious injury, only a few more scars on his face and hands. Marcus didn't know how many of his soldiers had fallen. Too many, judging by his demeanour.

"I hit him pretty hard." Marcus shrugged as an attendant began to work on his armour. "Otherwise he could have used his magic again."

"Hmm. The runner mentioned that."

Bernard looked to a squire waiting some distance away. In his hands, he held a strange helmet. It clearly wasn't built for combat, it had too many holes in the metal. As the Squire approached Marcus saw it wasn't made from steel or iron. The metal had strange markings, a hexagonal repeating pattern covered the dull metal.

"Ghlyirl."

"Yes." Bernard rammed the helmet on the Commander, no care was given if it would fit properly. "We've had to deal with some upstart mages before. You put this metal anywhere near them and they can't use magic."

"Even heretical magic?" Alfred asked.

Bernard shrugged. "We'll find out if this Anton of yours tries anything silly."

Alfred frowned but offered no objections.

Bernard began slapping the prisoners. His mailed hands left red welts on his face but it worked. Slowly the man was roused from his slumber.

"I thought you had killed him." Bernard flashed Marcus a grin. He no longer doubted the Black Riders enjoyed the carnage.

"What?" The Commander was still groggy and disoriented. "Where is this?"

"Who wants to ask the questions?" Marcus asked.

"I will." Alfred took a step forward. "Unless someone else wants to?"

"I don't know what we could possibly ask," Leo muttered.

"At least what forces they have in the area," Bernard said. "Who has thrown their lot in with Giles and Harold. And who still might join us."

Leo nodded at Alfred. Alfred produced a tiny, thin blade, which he tapped on his fingernails. Marcus had never witnessed an interrogation like this; Clansmen usually killed themselves or went down fighting and the odd peasant rebellion didn't require much in the way of persuasion to extract an answer. He hoped he would have the stomach for it.

"Are you awake?" Alfred asked, his voice remained calm and flat despite what he could unleash upon the poor man.

"Who are you?" The Commander asked. "What's happening? Where are those useless soldiers?"

He had still yet to regain clarity. Alfred sighed before driving the blade into his leg. The man screamed as Alfred twisted the blade.

"Are you awake now?"

The Commander, his teeth clenched, nodded.

"Good. I think even you are smart enough to realize that you have lost." Alfred began. "And what remains of your life may or may not be painful, depending on how you answer. Do you understand?"

"The Holy Father-"

Alfred withdrew the blade and plunged it again into the man's leg. Marcus winced as he screamed in pain again, this time far more pathetically.

"We can keep on going for as long as you want." Alfred's voice did not waver despite the blood pooling around the hilt of the blade. "So, are you going to answer our questions?"

Realizing he had no real choice the man nodded.

"Good." Alfred produced a bandage and placed it firmly over the first wound, keeping the blade stuck in his leg. "Now. How many more men do you have to the south?"

"Eight...Eight thousand." The Commander began to turn pale. "And another ten thousand of peasant rabble."

"You don't seem to have much regard for the men you sent to their deaths."

The Commander scoffed. "They should be glad to be given the opportunity to redeem themselves by slaying a single heretic like yourself."

"Not even armour?"

"Why? There are always more."

If we let this thing go on there won't be anyone left in the Kingdom. Bebbezzar was always looking to expand before their war...

"Okay."

Alfred waved to Noah. He covered his eyes with his hands. Marcus reasoned that he hadn't left yet because the King hadn't dismissed him. No child should have to watch something like this. Noah, peering through his fingers, nodded and brought over a bowl of blended healing herbs. Alfred quietly thanked him and applied the paste. The Commander winced but quickly relaxed as the plants worked their magic.

"What about further south?" Alfred asked. "To the east or west?"

"Nothing from the south. Or the east, at least to attack you. They've received orders to secure the nearby towns and cities and await the arrival of The Crusade."

Marcus's ears twitched at that word. The last Crusade had been called before he was born and directed westward to deal a decisive blow against the Centaurs. It worked but took a heavy toll in lives and resources. And the threat had hardly been abolished if the Red Salamanders spoke the truth.

"A Crusade to kill Leo? That seems like a bit much." Alfred smiled at the prisoner.

Marcus felt it was a little odd he was being so friendly to a man he had wounded so badly. It was more like he was training a troublesome dog than an interrogation.

"They don't know exactly where you are but they had a good guess." The Commander continued. "But they want to keep pushing east. To the old Kar Kingdom."

Alfred's face dropped slightly.

If we knew that someone could live there, without bringing an entire kingdom's worth of monsters upon ourselves we would have taken that land ages ago. Guess they are lucky we didn't.

"Why?" Alfred asked after regaining his composure.

"I don't know. But that's the order. If the King and Queen order it we have to obey, even if-"

"Queen?" Alfred raised a brow, his elderly wrinkled face contorted in surprise. "And King? Not Kings?"

"Have you not heard?"

"For some reason, we have been stuck in this castle for quite some time." Alfred chuckled. "We haven't exactly had the chance."

"Harold is King. And Valerie is his Queen."

“What about Giles?”

“He’s dead.” The Commander looked a little perplexed. A faint smirk grew on his face, quickly dropped when he remembered his situation.

"Giles is dead?" Leo asked softly.

While he, probably, still loved his brothers they had tried to kill him. Marcus didn't envy the swirling emotions going through his head. But what he said second concerned Marcus the most.

The Commander nodded. "I don't know who did it but I heard it was the Queen. She and Cardinal Abeau put Harold on the throne."

"So my mother now rules as Queen Regent." Leo shook his head. Noah rushed to his side but could do little to comfort the King.

Marcus couldn't hold his thought any longer. "You said his Queen. Not the Queen."

"What?" Leo's face drained of emotion.

The Commander chuckled. "Only a few know the real truth." A quick glare from Alfred stopped his jubilant tone dead. "Valerie is Harold's Queen. As an actual..." He tried to roll his hands as he thought of the right words. "Husband and wife."

Marcus was lost for words. So too was everyone else. Leo stood in a mixture of disgust and fury, unable to decide which would win out.

"I...I don't." Leo held his forehead. "That's sick."

"I thought that something like incest was frowned upon by The Church?" Alfred asked.

"It is. But Cardinal Abeau forbade any discussion. But...People talk."

"What of Princess Lila?" Marcus asked. "I haven't heard anything about her since this started."

Leo's eyes opened. While he loved his brothers that did not appear to extend to her.

"No one has heard anything. I think she is being hunted but I don't know. Nothing has been said about her."

Strange. Perhaps no one really thinks she could be a threat.

"How long before this Crusade is ready?" Alfred asked.

"It'll still take some time. Perhaps early spring? But I'm sure they won't just leave you alone until then. The army they're creating will be powerful enough to topple empires, more than enough to sweep away this castle and the monsters in the Kar Kingdom."

"I see." Alfred glanced at the others present, his face still blank. "Eighteen thousand soldiers, of indeterminate quality, to the south. And an army brewing at the capital...I think we've heard everything we need to."

Alfred drove the blade into his throat. Blood streamed from the wound, his bound hands desperately attempted to reach and close the wound. A few moments passed and his head fell forward and body silent.

"That's for sending thousands of innocent people to their deaths," Alfred spoke coldly, wiping the blood from his blade. "I'm sure their families are eternally thankful that they'll starve this winter."

To think that I was about a winter away from marching onto Maxill and removing Duchess Belinda. Oh, I should have asked about the red moss. Maybe someone here knows more.

"Unbelievable." Leo shook his head, scrunching his eyes tight. "One of my brothers is dead. And my other fucking my mother...And I have no idea about my sister."

Marcus felt his concern for his sister was very forced.

"Our first action should be taking out the threat to the south." Bernard began. "Once that is dealt with we can start moving on the capital and your brother."

"Eighteen thousand is a considerable force." Leo appeared more than happy to talk about a different topic. "Even if they are poorly armed and trained."

"Indeed." Alfred held his chin. "To the north is a large town. I haven't heard anything hostile from it."

"The mayor and I are friends." Bernard frowned lightly. "As much as anyone can be friends with one of us. I have sent him letters but I've heard nothing in return."

"Well, the number of their soldiers is considerable." Alfred continued. "If we can get them on our side we should be more than strong enough to take the cathedral."

"Does anyone know why their soldiers would have a red moss in their teeth?" Marcus asked, only to receive blank looks. "Strange. If anyone hears anything about it could they let me know? I'm curious about it."

Leo gave a single nod. "We have our objective now. Securing the land around Castle Étoile. While we wait for the other Knight Orders we'll secure the loyalty of this mayor. I don't know too much about negotiation so I'll need to bring some help. This might be my first real action as King."

Marcus looked at the blood still dripping from his blade.

"We will follow you, My King," Bernard said proudly. Everyone nodded to his words. Leo took heart and smiled, the first proper smile in a long time.

Marcus knew they made the right choice. Though he would never dare air it, it wasn't like there was a real alternative.

Chapter 119 Pt.3 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 119 Pt.3:

Terill sat on the cold, hard ground, his feet tucked beneath his knees as he idly played with the small embers that passed for a fire. A faint drizzle rained, only lowering their spirits further. Princess Lila sat opposite. She too stared into the flame, losing her thoughts in the few flickering flames.

Terill had lost count of how many days they had spent roaming through the countryside. His body creaked and groaned, protesting at the numerous hills and gullies they had to cross to avoid the main roads. While he had no way of knowing if Abeau had soldiers patrolling the roads he wasn't going to take that chance. He didn't want to die yet. And neither did Lila. The journey had been tough on her too but in different ways. Her early enthusiasm quickly faded when she realized how well she had been living. She had never had to go without meals or water. Neither could hunt or knew what was safe to eat. An attempt to raid crops from a small farm almost ended their lives when dogs were set upon them. They had to settle for trading for their food. Lila sacrificed everything of value that she wore. The once beautiful dress now lay in tatters, all of her fine jewellery traded for food at exorbitant prices. Even her shoes had to go for another day's worth of supplies.

"How much further?" Lila mumbled. She ran her dirty and matted hair over her ears. Terill was disappointed that the once long blonde hair had been reduced to such a state. It probably was easier just to cut it off and save it from becoming entangled on every branch.

"We just passed the town of Huttpen." Terill laid another small log on the fire. "So we are very close. Should be sometime tomorrow morning."

Lila grumbled and continued staring into the flame. She spoke less with each passing day.

"How much did you know?" Her eyes were empty yet pierced through his soul. "About what was going to happen? How much was your doing?"

Her hand gripped around something hidden in the darkness. Terill knew it to be a blade, something one of her maids told her to keep on her person in case a man got too close. Given their relative age, Terill didn't like his chances.

"Almost nothing." Terill sighed. "I didn't-"

"Liar." Lila hissed, her hand gripping tight on the handle. "There's no way you didn't know."

Terill said nothing and poked the flames again.

"I didn't know that was going to happen." Terrill continued. "If you recall I was just as shocked as you were."

"Easy to fake. To pretend." Lila shrugged. "We've all been taught how to lie and see through them. But...But you still wanted my father gone."

Terill nodded faintly. "I did. I did want him out of the way. But not dead."

"So you could put yourself at the top?" Lila chuckled. "But that fat little dumpling got to it first."

"I can't deny that. But I didn't want to sit on the throne. I didn't want there to be a throne at all. A council, of enlightened people, would guide the Kingdom to a better existence."

"For all the good it's done."

In some of the smaller villages they skirted around he saw the beginnings of radicals springing up like weeds. Denouncements, lynching’s, public beatings and humiliation.

The ability to do whatever rots people’s morals so quickly. Or it just brings out the worst in us. Simply lets out what has been buried.

"Yes...I was so focused on bringing it to reality, so ready to take any opportunity to further it no matter how noble or vile, I lost track of those around me. And what they were planning."

Lila relinquished her blade and placed another branch onto the fire. There was little good in arguing or becoming enraged by what he had done. Lila was smart enough to understand that, not that she wouldn't be furious at him for his blindness to Abeau’s activity.

Lila rummaged through the cheap small cloth bag that contained what little food they had. Thankfully they had stopped for the night near a stream but that didn't alleviate his rumbling stomach. Terill didn't know how to fish and yet food was right there. A truly frustrating feeling. Lila began to nibble on a piece of dried bread. It was of poor quality and Terrill's nose ran after eating it. But it would have to do.

"What about my brothers?" Lila threaded the bread onto a stick before holding it over the flame. It would make it more difficult to eat but the mould would burn away. "Do you know what happened to them?"

"Why are you asking now and not before?"

Lila shrugged. "I thought we wouldn't make it. So I knew I couldn't get distracted. Now that we're close I want to know."

Terrill stretched out his tired legs. "Leo managed to escape. Giles is dead and Harold is King. With your mother as his Queen."

"Wait." Lila raised a hand while the other covered her mouth. "What did you say about mother and Harold?"

"They are together," Terill said flatly. "They kissed very passionately even while Giles blood soaked into the carpet."

Lila began to turn green.

"By what Harold said it had been going on for some time behind Lambert’s back. And now he was gone they didn't have to hide it anymore."

Lila darted into the shadows and retched loudly. There was little, since they were always hungry, but it was enough to hear the splattering onto the grass. Lila stood hunched over, only her rear faintly illuminated by the weak flame, as she spat out the last vestiges of vomit. When she sat down her face was still pale and exhausted.

"I..." She looked to be on the verge of vomiting just thinking about it, Terrill didn't want to remember their madness induced lust for one another. "What happened to Giles?"

"Seems he was just a pawn. After Valérie said Harold was king, Giles questioned it, some previous plan had them ruling together. Valérie swiped at his throat and he started bleeding. Just like your father."

"Do you know of a weapon that could do that?"

"No. But it could be an enchanted blade, so it's invisible. But that would cost a fortune."

"My mother had all the money my father did and the Church's money too." Lila clicked her tongue. "She was always too close to them. To people like you."

Terill found it difficult to refute her. But a few days ago he too had near unlimited wealth. Now...If they had to go much further he would have to sell his shoes.

"Since it seems like I'm in a talking mood." Terrill found it odd she spoke about herself in such a manner. "What about those strange things Abeau brought. Stitch soldiers, or whatever they're called."

Terill scratched his head. "Some...Some time ago we experimented trying to create very powerful soldiers. Other races, like the Wood and Desert Elves, have large creatures to aid them in battle but humans do not. We-"

"Maybe that's what Beastkin are." Lila shrugged. "I saw some in Bebbezzar. They looked quite big and strong."

"Yes..."

The thought of the Beastkin’s very existence made Terrill's blood boil. However, with his faith battered beyond repair, that thought was nowhere near as strong.

"Yes. But we wanted a human. Anyway, the Stitch Soldiers, as you call them-"

"Abeau called them that too."

"Please stop interrupting." Terrill coughed. "The Stitch Soldiers were a part of that. They are strong and very resilient. Though their intelligence and concept of free will falls apart. It was halted when every soldier, after five days, went berserk. Attempting to kill anything in sight, even other Stitch Soldiers, before ripping their bodies apart from the sheer force. Everyone on the ruling council agreed that it was a bad and dangerous idea. I thought it was all destroyed and forgotten."

"And who was sent?"

Terill chuckled. "Abeau. He was young, and it was his chance to prove himself. He did well. But it seems like he simply took everything and started again. And he found a way to deal with the insanity."

"Is that why The Church helps so many young orphans? Are they needed for it?"

"No. We don't take in children for that."

"But you do for other reasons. I remember one if the Knights, called before my father to explain the Clansmen and Orc Invasion, seemed quite handsome. Anyway, he said something that made Abeau fluster. Saying that he knew young boys very well."

"Abeau, though effective, had his vices."

"And you? Do you go for the little boys?"

"No. I-"

"The little girls then?"

Terrill fell silent, a memory of searing flesh and screaming filled his mind. By the time he returned Lila looked at him only in disgust.

"You actually did it?" Her face drained of what little colour was left. "I'm travelling with a child rapist."

"I..." Terrill cast his head down. "I haven't actually done it."

"But you tried? Didn't you?" Lila almost spat out her words.

"I tried." Terrill held his head in his hands. "I did try once."

“You’re disgusting.” Lila spat at the fire. “A piece of filth that got everything he deserved. No, not bad enough. An old man, poor and starving wandering through the forests isn’t enough. Now it seems like I’m here to suffer with you. What did I do to deserve this? I hope that your god rips it off so you can never touch a child again.”

Terill sighed, stood up and began to unbuckle his belt.

"What do you think you are doing?" Lila demanded, her hand gripping tight to the blade. "If you think I'm going to let you do that to me-"

Terrill dropped his pants. Lila shrieked and covered her eyes, only daring to peak through the tiny cracks in her fingers. Her fear and anger faded away, so too did her hands.

"W-What." Lila looked straight at him. "Where...Where is it? It's-"

"It's gone." Terrill pulled up his pants. "I haven't had it for most of my life."

Lila kept the blade close but now appeared intrigued rather than frightened. "How?"

Terrill slumped onto the dry grass. "I was young. Very young. Really a boy instead of a man. We were visiting a city to the northeast, I forget what it was called and...I tried to force myself onto someone. They were seeking refuge in the local church so..."

"So you raped someone that was, what, trying to hide from a storm?" Lila looked at him with derision and utter contempt. "You deserve what happened to you."

"I did." Terrill threw another branch onto the fire. "My brothers...talked about it. All the time. How enjoyable it was. To have total power..." Terill shrugged. "And I was bored. I wanted to know what it was like. Her...Father, caught me doing it."

Lila continued to stare in silence.

"I don't think you can guess what happened next. Suffice to say that all they could do for me was to remove everything. Not even healers could restore my manhood to any semblance of its original form."

Terrill still had many nightmares about it. He could feel a phantom limb most nights, a constant reminder of the crime he had committed.

"And then what happened?" Lila asked. "You eventually became an inquisitor. Don't tell me you just left them alone."

Terrill chuckled, something that only disturbed Lila. "For the longest time, I hated what he did to me. Every night for...for ages I planned out everything I would do, every excruciating detail. One day I woke up and realized it was all pointless. Even if I did get my revenge it would accomplish nothing. And I was the vile person, not them. I took my revelation as a sign from The Holy Father, to amend my ways and fix the ills of the Kingdom and Church wherever I could. I will admit that our current...circumstances shows that I have failed, but I could only do my best to make amends."

"And that's why you wanted to remove my father."

"I wanted to do the right thing. To make amends, to the people.” Terill sighed. “For all the good it’s actually done."

Terill brought his knees up underneath his chin and wrapped his arms tight. He had been so distracted trying to remove the royalty in the correct way that everything else had simply slipped by. If he had checked his fellows if he had checked those far beneath him for wrongdoings would things have turned out this way?

Blinded by my goal I let everything fall to ruin. Quite possibly the entire Kingdom. And I was supposed to make things right.

Lila laid on the ground, pulling a rough cloth over her body and shutting her eyes. She kept the blade gripped tight in her hands, not that Terrill even had the capacity to do something.

Terrill stared blankly into the flame, waiting for his turn to sleep. What else could be said?

---[]---

The morning sun did little to raise either of their moods. Terill led the way through the thin woods, as best he could, while Lila followed close behind. Not a single word had been spoken between them all morning, not surprising considering what he had told her. He half expected her to stab him in the throat and leave him to die. Whatever her reasoning he wasn't allowed the tranquillity of death just yet. Through the noise of scraping through the forest and the occasional squeak and grunt from Lila, Terrill heard something. He raises his hand for Lila to stop.

"What is it?"

"Screams," Terrill spoke softly. "Two people. A man and a woman."

"Should we help?"

Terill had no weapons and Lila only had her blade. Neither were built for fighting nor had the stomach for it. Lila had killed a maid, only by accident, and Terrill had never held a weapon in anger.

"No." Terrill pushed deeper into the forest. "We'll simply get killed. Or exposed. And after all this, I don't want to die when we're so close."

Lila didn't object and followed closely behind.

The screams came from the last village, more of a town before they reached their destination. As the forest rose above the town's walls they could see everything. In the centre, where market stalls and bustling people had once plied their trades, two great piles of timber lay stacked in bundles. A man and a woman were bound to the poles. They could barely move and the previous screams, pleas for help, had resulted in a broken jaw for the man and a bloody nose for the woman.

"I'm sure this isn't what you wanted." Lila rested a hand on Terrill's shoulder.

"No."

Between the two piles of wood, a priest strode between them, shouting at the gathered crowd but inaudible from their distance. Terill knew exactly what was about to happen.

"The man." Terrill began. "He looks like the Mayor. And that's probably his wife."

"So what happened?"

"I think the priest wanted to take control. The mayor refused and now...Look." Terrill pointed at the inner edges of the gathered crowds. "Those look like soldiers. See their weapons and armour?"

"They don't look like soldiers that I know," Lila mumbled.

"If all you have is a cheap wool shirt and a pitchfork you aren't going to fight someone with a sword and shield, are you? At least if you can avoid it."

Lila looked at him and then back to the town below.

Fear. A great motivator. But when it runs out you'll face the wrath of those you sought to control.

"There's nothing we can do." Lila withdrew her hand. "You don't need to tell me again."

Terill followed her as she led them through the forest.

"Aren't you worried about where we're going?" Lila asked without looking back. "Since it's so close to this..."

"I am," Terrill admitted. "But we don't have much of a choice. We can't keep wandering like this. The only thing you've got left of value is that blade. That and..."

Lila stopped. "And what?"

"If it comes that far we might as well go into that town and hand ourselves in."

Lila instantly understood. She spared a single glance towards the town before moving forward.

---[]---

By the time they reached their destination, the sun was almost over their heads. It wasn't that it was far from the village, they were simply too tired and hungry to move quickly. Terill led them from skirting the forest and onto the compacted dirt road. His initial fears were dispelled instantly as no one recognized them. Not only were they too occupied with their own business but they looked like vagabonds, a grandfather with his daughter. Lila relaxed as well, though she kept her hand firmly grasped on her blade.

A monastery lay before them, the largest in Qaiviel. The buildings were nowhere near as grand as the cathedrals to the west but it was in no way inferior. A large stone wall surrounded the entire monastery, large fruit-bearing vines draped themselves over the top, allowing anyone to pick the generous abundance of ripe fruit. There was only one way into the monastery, protected by a few idle guards, where a small but constant stream of people came and went. Those passing by had carts filled with barrels. Barrels of beer. The monasteries had a near monopoly on the manufacture of beer in Qaiviel, other spirits they wouldn't touch, which provided the main source of income. They could also sell it far cheaper than anywhere else, those that tried found their stills and crops mysterious destroyed. Terrill didn't like that aspect but the beer was so cheap no one but the odd merchant complained.

Terill stopped before he advanced further. Two thin smoke lines floated upward from the village. He said nothing and continued walking along the road.

"They're dead," Lila said softly, not looking back once. "Aren't they?"

"Yes."

"I see."

Terill caught the look on her face. She stored that memory, those emotions, deep within her. She was never forgetting it.

As they approached the monastery entrance the guards only paid them a momentary glance. They really did look like vagabonds which they presumed were looking for some sort of shelter.

This is where I may or may not die.

"Excuse me." Terrill waved at the guards. His body groaned from lack of good sleep, his actions slowed by his hunger.

The guards finally noticed them. "Welcome to the Chalais Monastery travellers. How can we help?"

"Is Bishop Wiciloth still leading the monastery?"

"He is." The guards spoke politely but were also very curt.

"Could you tell him...Tell him that Inquisitor Terrill needs to speak with him immediately."

The guards looked them over with disbelieving eyes.

"It has been an extremely rough journey. But he will recognize me the moment he sees me."

"And who is she?"

"An aide," Terrill answered. "Could you please get us Bishop Wiciloth? It will be so much easier to explain everything to him."

A guard shrugged lightly and entered the monastery. While Terill was almost certain they could enter he did not want to appear to be presumptuous. Terill moved Lila to the side and allowed the light traffic to flow unimpeded.

As time trickled away nervousness only built inside Terrill. Had this been a tremendous mistake? Were they stalling so they could properly surround and take them prisoner? To run now would be more than suspicious and ruin any chance of talking to Wiciloth on a level field. Lila did not share his obvious worries on the surface at least.

Finally, the guard returned with someone at his side. Bishop Wiciloth was a tall, lanky middle-aged man with a receding hairline. Despite his appearance, Terrill knew he was a smart and kind man, hopefully just the sort of person they needed.

Wiciloth looked at Terrill. For a moment he struggled to recognize him underneath the layers of filth and grime. His eyes squinted tight before a smile graced his face.

"Bring them in," Wiciloth said loudly to the guards.

The guards motioned for them to enter. Lila kept the flat edge of the blade pressed against the inside of her wrist and hidden from view. There was little either could do but it made them both feel a little safer.

"I'm shocked to see you alive, Terrill." Wiciloth smiled awkwardly. "Everything that I've heard from the south is terrible. Word was that you were dead."

"Not quite." Terrill felt the pains in his joints ever more clearly. "Though some mornings I wish I was. Is there somewhere we can speak in private? A great many things have changed over the past few days."

Wiciloth looked to the twin smoke trails to the south. "Yes. Yes, it has."

"Was that your doing?" Lila asked, the blade turning in her fingers. "All those horrible things..."

"No." Wiciloth frowned. "They are not from here. But they wanted our support to run amok. I told them no and sent them away."

"They'll be back," Terrill said. "And it won't just be rabble."

Wiciloth shrugged. "This monastery has survived every calamity thrown at it, from Clansmen to Centaurs, and everything in between. This place has stood defiant. And that's not going to change."

"This time might be different. Can we please head inside?"

---[]---

Wiciloth sat in complete silence as Terrill recounted their tale. He kept his thoughts to himself and allowed the story to flow unimpeded. When Terrill had finished he collapsed his head into his arms, a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders simply from retelling his tale.

"So it's even worse than the rumours." Wiciloth sighed. "I thought some of the merchants were exaggerating, trying to spin an alluring tale to entice eager listeners."

"Yes. I wish it wasn't true too."

"So those people I sent away weren't imposters?"

"No. If anything they have the backing of Cardinal Abeau."

"Cardinal...May the Holy Father preserve us." Wiciloth clapped his hands together in a simple prayer. "But you have yet to explain who this young lady is."

Terrill feared this part the most. If Wiciloth had truly fallen in with Abeau and his ilk this would be where everything fell apart. The amount of power and prestige he would receive from handing them both over...

"This is Princess Lila," Terrill said flatly. "She escaped the initial carnage and we escaped together once the situation deteriorated further. She is not some simple assistant or attendant."

Wiciloth bowed his head so low it almost hit the table. "It is an honour to meet you, your highness. I merely wish this honour occurred during happier times."

Lila's back straightened. Despite her condition, she held herself with more pride than Terrill had seen even before fleeing the capital.

"I wish it were so too." Lila smiled faintly. "But such a thing cannot be undone."

All that training kicked in when you needed it the most.

"I wish it were so too, your highness. You and Terrill are safe here, for the time being. There isn't a soul in the kingdom that will recognize you two dressed as you are now."

Lila, for all of her momentary regal bearing, fell back into her previous state. It wasn't just the matted and dirty hair, but everything else about her. There was no way she was a princess.

"Those guards know who I am," Terrill said.

"They understand the importance of secrecy. But I will stress it to them nonetheless." Wiciloth frowned lightly. “But…What will you do now? You are safe here, for now. At least from discovery. I can easily let you both stay but you will need to work with the other nuns.”

“The nuns?” Lila’s blonde brows creased.

“Yes. We cannot have a woman living here for free.” Wiciloth smiled awkwardly. “Even if it is a princess. If anything it will attract attention.”

Lila looked at the table for a long time.

“Perhaps we should have something to eat first.” Terrill felt his own rumbling stomach. “Then we’ll be able to think more clearl-”

“The mayor and his wife weren’t able to do that,” Lila mumbled, silencing Terrill. Wiciloth crossed his hands in a silent prayer for their departed souls. “If…If Harold and that Abeau are allowed to continue more people will suffer.” She turned to Terrill, her eyes searching for something. “Is it not the duty of the Royals to keep their people safe?”

“It is,” Terill said softly.

Lila looked at the table again. “Then…Then I must decline your sanctuary.” Wiciloth raised a brow. “I will not allow my brother to destroy the things it has taken generations to build. And my mother…” She repressed the urge to gag. “I’ll discover why she killed my father.”

“I am no warrior.” Wiciloth began. “But Harold has the Royal Army at his disposal. And warriors from The Church of the Holy Father. And you have…two people?”

Lila looked at Terill. She hardly thought of him as a man, doubly so after his confession the night before.

“I will find a way to stop them.” Lila gripped her fists tight. “No matter what I have to do.”

“There…” Terill began softly. “There might be some help that we can get right now.”

Lila looked to him.

“There’s a small castle, to the north, belonging to a Knight Order. They would know of you. If you were to get cleaned up they would believe that you are a princess and likely follow your orders. No Knight Order would support Harold after he killed their representatives.”

Lila slowly nodded.

“And there’s also the Red Salamanders to the west. Of the Knight Orders, they have the largest force in the west. And I know that they will gladly aid you.”

“Their commander was in the throne room,” Lila said.

“He was. Before I fled they were complaining that he had managed to escape. I think there’s a good chance he could already be back at their main castle. He would certainly rally to your cause and provide you with thousands of good soldiers.”

“Wouldn’t that leave the border exposed?” Wiciloth asked. “I’ve been hearing rumours that the Centaurs had already started attacking the outlying settlements.”

“It’s too close to winter for them,” Terill replied. “They’ll have to wait until the beginning of spring, especially if the snow starts to fall early. Which it looks like it will. The larger forts and castles won’t fall to the Centaurs, though they will have to take in the surrounding people.”

‘Let us hope it doesn’t get that far until spring.”

“Are you saying that’s how long I have?” Lila asked.

“I cannot say,” Terill replied. Lila’s face fell. “But every day Harold and the Church grow stronger. You cannot be indecisive if you want to reclaim the throne.”

Why am I even talking like this? I never wanted one person to rule a country and yet…

He looked at the young woman before him. Though she was covered in dirt and grime, having lost everything and hunted by those that would pay fortunes to see her dead, she had not succumbed to despair. She could still hold her head high.

Lila tapped the table. “How far away is the Knight Order castle to the north?”

“Less than a day,” Wiciloth replied. “Far less if you take a horse. Which we can provide, if you wish.”

“I don’t know how to ride,” Lila grumbled. “Women aren’t allowed to learn.”

“I know how,” Terill said. “I learned when I was younger, though it has been some time since then. If we are going to ride may we have the most docile one you have?”

Wiciloth nodded. “You’ll need more than just the Knight Orders. They are simply too few and too many of the enemy.”

“If…Do you think the people of the village would join us if we removed the priest?” Lila asked Terill.

“I…I honestly don’t know. Perhaps? They aren’t soldiers, most are just simple peasants with no combat experience or weapons.”

“This area is rich in animals.” Wiciloth continued. “There are many hunters and trappers that live nearby. And each has a bow and a good eye. Though it won’t be an army it’s a decent start.”

Terill nodded. “Those forces can harass the enemy, whittle them down before the Knights strike. It’s a good start.”

“And I can win this way?” Lila asked. “I know nothing of strategy or tactics, nothing of economics nor how to wage a war. But…I need people that do.” She turned to Terill. “Will you help me?”

Do I want to help her regain the throne? But, really, what choice do I have?

“I will, your highness.”

A faint smiled graced Lila’s face. “Wiciloth. I humbly request a bath, even a simple one will do. I need to look respectable when I meet these Knights to the north.”

Lila turned to the south, obscured by the walls. “And they are going to be the first to pay for what they’ve done.” Lila’s face darkened. “The first of many.”

Chapter 120 - Vol 4 - Balefire Mine

Chapter 120:

Anton breathed deep, the fresh air filling his lungs. There wasn’t even a hint of the smell of cities, from this world or Earth, only the strangely sweet smell of grass and trees. A gentle breeze swept through the open grassy plains of the old Kar Kingdom, unimpeded by the small forests or what remained of human civilisation. Many ruined cities, towns and villages dotted their route. Even forts, large wooden and stone constructs, had not been spared by the ravages of time and weather, though they appeared to be in better condition. One day they might rebuild them beyond their original splendour. But, in every ruin, Goblins lurked in the shadows. Dark Elves kept a watchful eye on the shadows, the Goblins weren’t willing to attack, content to hide in their ruins. Anton didn’t know if they understood how strong they were but these were Green and Yellow Goblins, cowards at best. If it was just three or four people they might have tried something but not almost a hundred.

A humming to his side drew Anton out of enjoying the open scenery. Verona hummed her wordless tune, her head bobbing from side to side while she stared at the clear blue sky. Her shoulder-length silver braided hair stuck out from underneath her helmet, swinging wildly with every sway. Though it was a shame to hide such beautiful hair the alternative was far worse. The Dark Elves had told many stories how distracting loose strands of hair had cost them a fight. But theirs weren’t to the death.

“What are you looking at?” Verona asked, her voice sweet and teasing.

“Your hair.” Anton smiled. “I just like looking at it. The way it bounces and sways as you move.”

Verona laughed. “That’s really weird. But I probably need to get it cut soon.” A black gloved hand twirled with the end. “Otherwise I’ll whip myself in the face. Kal too. Hers is even longer…What about Cetina?”

Kal and Cetina rode at the front of their small convoy. Anton saw them talking. What a Half-breed Feline Beast-kin and a Bebbezzarian could discuss so amicably he didn’t know. They appeared to be having a good time so Anton wasn’t worried.

“Not for a while,” Anton replied. “I think she likes to keep it short. Good for fighting in melee. Nothing to grab hold of. Speaking of…Umikgruid?”

“Yes?”

Umikgruid sat on the second Ix drawn cart, just a few meters ahead of Anton and Verona. There wasn’t much in the way of room for the Dwarves, it reminded Anton of sardines jammed into cans but their closeness didn’t appear to worry them. The rocking of the cart wasn’t doing them much good.

“Since you have your beards outside of your armour aren’t you worried that someone will grab it in a fight?”

Umikgruid laughed, the other male Dwarves laughed as well. Anton felt a strange feeling, perhaps of slight embarrassment, creep up his face as he waited in silence.

“No!” Umikgruid laughed again. “If they did it would only mean they’re close enough to hit with our axes right in their faces.” He stroked his beard. “I won’t deny that it hurts when someone pulls on it though.”

“Just a thought.” Anton looked to the Dark Elves jogging either side of the carts. “I don’t think the Dark Elves would let anyone even get that close.”

Umikgruid nodded. “If they do they’re going to find out how fast those Brown Ears can swing those blades.”

“Brown ears?”

“Hush.” Goshala snapped at Umikgruid. “You know that’s a terrible thing to say.”

“But it’s true.” Umikgruid shrugged. “They have brown ears…So…”

Gosthilda sighed and shook her head. Anton didn’t see any change in the Dark Elves. Was it some sort of slur against them? If it was it sounded pretty soft.

“Balefire Mine…” Anton pulled out the map, scratching the docile and dozing Luna on the way. “Should, if that’s this forest to the south, then it should be over that ridge.”

They were already beginning the ascent of the modest ridge, Kal and Cetina had almost reached the peak. Thankfully the incline wasn’t too great and the Ix were not struggling. Throughout their journey, the beasts had only tired at the end of the day and were fit and ready the next.

“If we do find this Mine of yours.” Umikgruid began. “What are you going to do?”

“Yeah…” Verona mumbled. “You said that you’d play it by ear. But when they see Kal…”

“Right now they’re so far away that it’d be impossible to tell if Kal’s a Beast-kin.” Anton looked ahead. “Though it’s going to be hard to deny a tail swishing through the air.”

“True.” Verona laughed. She looked down to a pack by her leg. Compared to the others it was on the verge of bursting.

Verona had been acting oddly the last few nights. Normally she wasn’t secretive in any sense, strutting naked in their bedroom gave her no shame, but now she wouldn’t let him anywhere near it. She hid on the opposite side of a cart for hours while she did something. Every so often he would hear a swear or an unintelligible curse but never a call for help. Even Kal had no idea what she was doing, nor did anyone else. In order to satisfy his curiosity, he carefully checked it one night. Brightly coloured feathers, the same from the Rainbow Birds, burst out. It took nearly a minute to ensure there wasn’t any evidence. He couldn’t make sense of it nor ask Verona what she was doing in fear of revealing that he had looked.

I wonder what you’re making. I didn’t think you had any crafting skills. Are you getting help from the Dark Elves or the Dwarves? But you don’t want our help so you don’t want us to know…

Anton tore his eyes away from the overstuffed pack before Verona noticed. She smiled as Anton played with Luna’s white head. She, as Kal had discovered before leaving Atros, could now eat grass. However, it wasn’t much at a time and had to be supplemented by milk but it was a start. Anton wondered when she’d be able to fly. Her wings had not changed, but she was only a month old at most.

A sharp whistle from the front stopped the convoy. Kal waved them forward as Cetina drew her sword. Anton knew there was only a slim chance that Balefire Mine would still be in one piece but he still held some hope. He and Verona rode to the front as the convoy bunched together, the Dark Elves at the front slunk towards the top of the ridge while the others formed a perimeter. The Dwarves appeared unperturbed but their hands moved to their weapons.

When Anton neared the ridge he noticed that Kal’s mask still hung upon her waist. There clearly wasn’t a need for it, nor to hide her long tail. Balefire Mine was nothing like anything he’d seen. An open cut mine, larger than Atros, lay in the middle of an open flat grassland. Despite the primitive mining technology the bottom was completely obscured. Something glinted in the stone, silver veins ran like water as far as he could see. If it was truly silver or any precious metal, this single mine could fund Atros for decades, perhaps even longer. A large wooden wall, rotting and decayed, ran around the mine and a small town to the side, a mining camp. However, his feelings dropped when he saw the town. While it had survived, as ruins could be called surviving, it was crawling with life. Initially he thought it was Goblins, something endemic to the Kar Kingdom, but they were the wrong colour. Small grey humanoids, hunched over slightly with white sunken eyes, sharp claws and loose skin crawled through the ruins.

“Ghlotsm,” Anton mumbled. “I didn’t know they were in the old Kar Kingdom.”

“I didn’t see them on my way to Atros.” Kal smiled at him. “But I was only travelling to the north of the road we took to Graterious.”

“I thought we’d seen enough of them.” Anton sighed. “Guess that they made it here before the chasm sprung up.”

“Ugh.” Cetina shook her head. “These things.”

“But they weren’t that tough for you.” Verona smiled.

“I remember you bashing those things to death.” Anton chuckled. “Though it was more just them throwing themselves at your shield.”

Cetina smiled bitterly. Though the battle had been quite intense it marked the high point of her relationship with her father. And everything only nosedived after that.

“How many are we talking?” Anton asked.

“Hang on.” Kal scrunched her eyes tight. She spoke an eye enchantment prayer and stared at the city. “I count nine hundred. Probably over a thousand…Last time I thought I had the right numbers. And then they started pouring out of the ground.”

“Ghlotsm can’t dig,” Cetina said. “At least I don’t think they can. They might take advantage of caves or pits in the ground-”

“Or a ruined city,” Verona added.

“I never found out but do the Ghlotsm lay eggs or have live births?” Anton asked. “When we got to Porswea we had a lot more things to worry about.”

“I don’t know,” Cetina replied flatly.

“They do,” Kal said. She pulled lightly on the reins and her horse took a step back. “Oh my-!”

Kal scrunched her eyes tight and coughed, her ears pulled back as she continued to groan. “Could someone please grab the reins?”

Anton and Verona reached out and steadied her horse. Only when her horse stood completely still did Kal reopen her eyes. Her mocha skin lost some of its lustre and a green tinge grew on her cheeks.

“By Tethra! Everything just started spinning.” Kal mumbled, wiping away a thin piece of drool escaping her lips. “I was almost sick.”

“I’m sure your horse would have hated that.” Verona chuckled.

“Yeah…” Kal scrunched her eyes as she mumbled as she cancelled the prayer. “I can see why Anton doesn’t want to move while he’s using it. Okay. Do you see that big building in the middle of the town?”

A very tall wooden building, still relatively intact, lay in the centre of the mining town. However, it wasn’t the centre of the Ghlotsm activity. They were more active in a ring around it, moving near smaller homes that had been damaged by fire and general neglect.

“Seems like it’s the only building really in one piece,” Anton said.

“Yes. Now, look towards the mine. Near those buildings on the edge, you’ll see it.”

White dots surrounded the perimeter of the mine, each surrounded by a thick grey material. With a quick mental eye enhancement prayer it became clear, literally and figuratively. Eggs, thousands upon thousands, littered the edge of the mine. Some even extended onto the rock face, built into small cracks and level areas. Why they simply hadn’t laid their eggs towards the town and away from the possibility of a drop Anton didn’t know. Perhaps they were good climbers.

“Right…” Anton sighed, cancelling the enhancement. He turned to Verona and Cetina. “Eggs. Thousands of them. I thought they might have laid eggs but not this many.”

“Why did you think that?” Verona tilted her head. She turned to the mine, raising a hand to her brow to block out the sun.

“Because they don’t have any nipples.” All three chuckled at his words. Anton smiled faintly. “I’m serious though. The vast majority of animals that give birth to live young, like humans…and most Beast-kin, also lactate milk for their young. Since I didn’t see that I presumed they laid eggs. It wasn’t much to go off of but it appeared to be correct. But I wasn’t ready for the number that they’ve got down there.”

“It seems strange to leave them out in the open,” Anton mumbled. “Where the weather and predators can get to them. Maybe they just to warm them up during the day? Who knows? But I don’t really want to find out.”

“So are we going in or around?” Verona asked.

“What’s happening?” A mature woman asked from behind.

Ceccitol and Tuccac approached. They skulked through the short grass, even though their horses were far taller and more visible.

“Ghlotsm?” Tuccac asked. “Disgusting little creatures.”

“They look horrible,” Ceccitol mumbled.

“They are horrible,” Cetina mumbled. “Though they don’t craft weapons like the Goblins-”

“Or the Kobolds,” Verona added softly.

“Their claws are incredibly sharp. Sharp enough to go through leather and cloth with ease.”

“That Bandit Hunter wouldn’t have seen the morning if it weren’t for you,” Verona smirked at Anton.

“Wouldn’t have the opportunity to chase some more women either.”

Verona chuckled while Kal sighed, shaking her head. Ceccitol and Tuccac didn’t understand fully so waited patiently.

“So do we-”

“What’s happening?” Umikgruid shouted from the cart. He hadn’t left it, even though the Dwarves had created a rudimentary ladder.

“Ghlotsm,” Verona shouted back.

Anton checked Balefire Mine. The gentle rustling of the grass appeared more than enough to cover their voices.

“Everyone. Please don’t shout.” Anton spoke forcefully. “We don’t know how good their hearing is.”

“Their sense of smell is their only strong point,” Cetina said. She looked to the grass at her feet. “And it looks like it’s blowing parallel to the mine. We shouldn’t have any problem. At least until it changes.”

Umikgruid stood next to his horse. “So…That’s a lot of them. Even from here. So, human. And Beast-kin. What are we going to do?”

“I would like to know more about the people that managed to survive the initial collapse of the Kar Kingdom.” Anton began. “But it cannot jeopardize our current mission.”

“I love it when he uses big words like that,” Verona whispered to Kal, who merely smiled in return.

“So we’ll need to come back at a later date to deal with them properly. Unless someone knows how fast these things actually breed…Their hide is a lot stronger than the Goblins…What do you think?”

“They don’t even have archers,” Verona said. “Or even slings. Or javelins…All they have is claws.”

“I don’t know which is a greater threat to Atros.” Anton folded his arms. “At least we know how to deal with the Goblins. And they don’t have the partial immunity to magic like the Ghlotsm.”

“I think we should take them out,” Verona said. Kal and Cetina nodded in agreement. “Goblins aren’t immune to magic.”

“When the rest of us Dwarves arrive they shouldn’t be a problem.” Umikgruid buffed out his barrel of a chest. “But I can see what you’re saying. Are there enough of us?”

Verona smiled wildly. “I could probably deal with this many.” Her smile faded. “Though I remember that they resisted my blood shards…This could actually be tricky.”

“I think we should pass them by,” Ceccitol said. “There are simply too many for us, for us to deal with quickly and safely. And…We would like to get back to the Shadow Isles as soon as possible. I know that it might seem callous to imply that we don’t care about-”

Kal’s ears pricked up. She looked to the south and furiously tapped Anton’s shoulder. “Get back!” She hissed. “Get back from the ridge.”

No one questioned the senses of a feline Beast-kin. Anton dismounted his horse, so too did the girls, and beckoned the horses to lie down. The beasts had rudimentary training and followed without protest. If anything they seemed happy to have a decent rest.

“What’s happening?” Anton asked, creeping low to the ridge.

“To the south.” Kal nodded. “Lots of them.”

“Them?”

Anton rested his head over the top and turned to the south. Sparse forests dotted the otherwise open grasslands. Several herds of Razor-Pigs, even a flock of Rainbow Birds ran in the distance. But Kal’s eyes were not drawn to something else. A small brown mass trudged along the dry green grass, hundreds of individuals moving as a group. Anton sighed, resting his head onto the ground with a thud.

Goblins. The eternal threat.

But these were not normal. Crude wooden armour covered their soft hide and held stone-tipped spears. Spears weren’t something unusual, nor was the wooden armour, the Goblins that attacked Atros had archers wielding crude self-made bows, javelins and simple armour. The uniformity caught his attention. Though it was of comparatively poor quality compared to theirs it was leagues above their standard attire and armaments. The rough marching formation made Anton feel very uneasy.

“I only just saw them,” Kal said.

“There’s got to be a thousand,” Verona grumbled. A smirk grew. “They’d be easier to deal with than the Ghlotsm. How would your arrows work against that?”

Kal shrugged lightly. “I don’t know what sort of wood they’ve used but it’ll be a few for each. The wood will take a few arrows or bolts before it smashes.”

Anton sighed. “And there goes our main advantage over them. I don’t think that wood’s going to break on the first swing of a sword or axe. More than enough time to get one of those spears into our throats.”

“We’d be able to hit them through the holes in their helmets,” Ceccitol spoke softly. “But…There are too many of them.”

“Far too many,” Umikgruid grumbled. “So what’s the plan now? Seems like this dead Kingdom is anything but dead and lifeless.”

Anton tapped his fingers on the grass, dry blades crunching lightly underneath his touch. “It doesn’t look like they’re coming for us.”

Kal shook her head. “No. But I didn’t want them to see us, just in case.”

“A good call. I think that we and see what they do. I don’t think the Goblins and Ghlotsm are friends, though I haven’t seen them together before.”

“I don’t think they’re friendly,” Cetina said. “If they were huge parts of Graterious would be over-run.”

“At least they keep each other in check.” Anton chuckled. He offered his bare hand to Verona. “Better be ready, just in case.”

After Verona took his blood they waited in silence. Anton counted eight hundred and ten goblins. Again the exact number niggled at the back of his mind. There was surely the chance of coincidence but for a force so chaotic it seemed unlikely. What was even more unlikely were the ten Black Goblins at the front, acting as officers and maintaining their formation. These wore better wooden armour, rusted metal straps randomly bolted on for extra strength as well as crude iron swords and iron wrapped wooden shields. Again they wouldn’t be too much of a threat against properly armed and trained Atros villager but their very existence was disturbing.

“It’s like they’re being armed,” Anton mumbled. Verona and Kal looked at him. “Professionally. There’s no way this isn’t planned. I can’t see one of those Awakened in there…Which makes it even worse.”

“I don’t really see how it could be worse,” Verona replied. “Almost a thousand Goblins attacking a city? Even if it’s one overrun by Ghlotsm.”

“It’s not just that…But, why are they here? Why do they want Balefire Mine?”

“Somewhere to build a nest?” Kal suggested. “They usually build in ruins, the depths of forests or caves. Balefire mine has two of those.”

“I suppose. But it still seems wrong.” Anton looked at Umikgruid, attempting to lie prone but unable to due to his rotund body. “We might want some of the Dwarves ballistae soon.”

Umikgruid raised a bushy brow but didn’t ask.

The Goblins continued their steady approach, unaware that they were under observation. The Black Goblins shouted at the Yellows and Greens and the small army began to spread out. Anton was surprised to see over a hundred of the Goblins had bows. They were nothing like Kal’s or the Dark Elves bows but they could still fire an arrow, probably. Atros had suffered against their crude arrows during the first month of Anton’s arrival. The Goblin archers remained behind the others as they advanced in two distinct rows.

“This is bad,” Kal whispered. “What if the Goblins attacking Atros, when we came back, were like this?”

“Then we might be rebuilding. With only three humans.” Anton mumbled. Kal winced as she looked back to the Goblins.

Several Ghlotsm near the walls finally noticed the Goblins. Their sunken white eyes widened, their bodies tensed. A strange screech, a quick and looping rhythm reverberated through, echoing through the buildings of Balefire Mine. A Black Goblin stopped his Goblins and the rest followed. A grey tide poured from the ruined buildings, hundreds of Ghlotsm ran towards the assembled Goblins. The disorder of the Ghlotsm far outweighed anything he had seen from the Goblins. They simply charged straight towards them, mindless savages, without a care for their fellows or for any sort of strategy.

Exactly how they attacked us too. They waited until they thought they could surround and overwhelm us, but we attacked first and they just flung themselves into the fray. Though they were on the offensive that time. Now that something threatens their nest there’s even less room in their heads for thinking? Only defend the nest.

A Black Goblin at the rear screeched and the archers fired. Though their bows were crude and their arrows bent and gnarled, they flew straight. The sheer mass of the charging Ghlotsm countered their poor aiming and equipment. Arrows sunk into the loose grey hide of the Ghlotsm, but unlike the Goblins, who would likely be felled by such an attack, many kept going. Those struck in the head fell instantly and were trampled into the dry grass. The arrows that didn’t kill instantly only served to annoy, ripped free from their loose folds of rough skin.

Black Goblins screeched ever louder as the Ghlotsm neared before retreating to the lines of Yellows and Greens. They lacked the confidence of their higher-ranked counterparts, unsurprising considering their designation as fodder. The first Ghlotsm, its arms outstretched in a hideous parody of a hug, reached the Goblin line to receive a flurry of stone-tipped spears. Though their hide was comparatively tough it was no match for sharpened stone. The first Ghlotsm fell, not to be the last, but their sheer weight proved too much. Crawling over their dead fellows and leaping into the Goblin ranks, their spears slick red with the blood, fear and panic spread. Archers continued firing but it was not enough. The Goblins broke as bloodied pieces of wooden armour flew into the air. Screeches and roars came from the Black Goblins, throwing themselves into the thickest fighting and cleaving the Ghlotsm apart before falling to their rage. The Goblins were simply overwhelmed by the ferocity of the Ghlotsm assault even with near equal numbers. Those at the rear began to retreat but they too were overwhelmed and cut down to the last. A minute later and the battle was over.

Verona whistled triumphantly. “That was really, really fast. Though, if you think about it, it probably felt the same for those Goblins attacking Atros. They were getting over the wall, slowly, and then bam. We turn up and everything goes wrong for them. Just like those idiots.”

“Yeah. But now the Ghlotsm are all but finished.” Anton noted. “There can’t be more than a hundred that can still move. Banzai charges are effective but it seriously saps your side’s strength.”

“I’m guessing that’s some sort of suicide attack?” Kal rolled her hand. “Anyway, it worked.”

“The Ghlotsm will probably keep quiet until those eggs hatch.” Anton stood up, brushing the dry grass from his clothes. “If they got the chance that is.”

“Do you mean to attack?” Ceccitol asked, worry creasing her smooth brown face.

“Yes. We can easily take the mine. Not forever, of course. I just want to see if there are anything left behind. If they’re going to be anywhere they’ll be in that big building. That looks like our best bet. There’s also something about those Goblins that’s bugging me. I want to get a better look, and I can only do that if the Ghlotsm are gone. And…” Anton made sure Umikgruid was listening too. “And I would like to see how both of your sides fight.”

“You doubt us?” Umikgruid folded his arms defiantly.

Anton waved his hands. “Absolutely not. I still want to see how you fight. Since I’ll be doing a lot of fighting in the future I want to know what I’ll have on my side.”

“Alright then.” Umikgruid twirled an axe in his hands. “’Bout time we got to have a fight. Even if it against these little runts.”

“Perhaps my warriors have become dulled too.” Ceccitol readied her bow. A deft hand ran along the string checking for any signs of weakness. “After the Green Goblins in the Accursed Forest we haven’t had much to fight. Nothing to test our blades and bows against. Perhaps we have become sloppy.” She turned to Tuccac. “This might be a good chance to show them what we are capable of.”

---[]---

The Ghlotsm completely abandoned the field as they advanced on Balefire Mine. Blue Crows began to descend and pick at the corpses, squawking happily as the feasted on the dead. The birds fluttered away when they approached, only to move to a body several meters away to continue their feast.

Dwarves formed a sturdy and resolute line, axes and crossbows at the ready. Behind, and above, stood the Dark Elves, Each had their bow ready and nocked. Ten Dark Elves remained with the carts, just behind their main force keeping a close watch behind. Though Anton could teleport back to Atros he’d prefer not to.

“Is everyone ready?” Anton asked.

“Ready.”

Kal stood with the Dark Elves, everyone’s bows knocked and ready. Some looked with thinly veiled derision, that a Beast-kin would think to be an archer comparable to them. Anton knew that were about to be pleasantly surprised. Verona and Cetina waited with Anton on their horses, Verona holding onto the reins of Kal’s horse.

“Get ready.”

Anton summoned a small lightning bomb and threw it towards Balefire Mines walls. The explosion reverberated through the air and wooden buildings. A second passed before a wounded Ghlotsm emerged to investigate the sound. Its sunken white eyes took a moment to register their presence, it craned its head up and screeched its quick looping rhythm call, before running towards them. This Ghlotsm lacked several fingers and had deep cuts along its loose skin. Ceccitol loosed her arrow, striking the Ghlotsm between the eyes. The creature fell limp, inertia carried its body along the dry trodden grass. Ceccitol silently readied her next arrow.

Ghlotsm screeching grew throughout the mine but nowhere near as strong. Several dozen appeared, all wounded to some degree, and ran towards them with sharp claws outstretched to strike. The Dark Elves and Kal loosed their bows simultaneously felling the targets. Those that had held derision towards Kal soon washed away, she was as good an archer as they were.

“Is that it?” Verona asked. Before Anton could reply the screeching grew again. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

The same number of Ghlotsm emerged, even more wounded than the first wave. Ceccitol looked back at Anton.

“Umikgruid. I want to see how the Dwarves fight.”

The Dwarf laughed as they readied their axes. “We’ll show you humans and elves how real Dwarves fight.”

These Ghlotsm were slower than the others but Anton held no doubt their claws would be just as dangerous. Umikgruid waited until the last minute before swinging his axe, cleaving through Ghlotsm’s jaw and splitting the head in two. Another Ghlotsm managed to get a swing of its sharp claws into his arms. Rot covered claws found purchase but could not puncture through their chain mail and padded armour. Its face contorted in brief confusion before Umikgruid threw it away with a shunt of his shoulder. As it fell back the creature looked broken, more so than before, its arms flailed as its ugly face was contorted in pain. Umikgruid didn’t pursue and struck the next attacking creature. The entire Dwarven line followed Umikgruid’s lead; the Dwarves stepped forward at the last moment, stepping underneath their opponents and striking hard. Before the next opponent could attack they retreated to their initial line. The few female Dwarves loosed their crossbows, the heavy bolts didn’t have the same grace as the Dark Elven arrows but struck harder. However, it took longer to reload a crossbow than a bow. Nevertheless, they put up an impressive volley. The Ghlotsm were wiped out in quick order.

When Umikgruid was certain they were safe he turned and smiled at Anton, his once magnificent beard stained red with blood.

“There. How about that, Anton?”

“Truly impressive.” Anton smiled warmly. “Very impressive. Though, given what I’ve just seen Ceccitol, I worry that I might not be enough to help you defeat the Goblins.”

Ceccitol chuckled. “I don’t think so. The ease of which you were able to summon a lightning bomb of such size gives me confidence. You said that you could use types of magic greater than that?”

Anton nodded. “Those are just the easiest.”

“Some of the warriors in the Shadow Isles can also use magic. But nowhere near as large, at least not without some time to prepare it.”

If we don’t get the magic books from Ferula in Koumore than the Dark Elves are going to be our next best bet. We won’t be getting to the Graterious Royal Academy anytime soon.

“Let’s just see if that’s everyone.”

Anton threw another lightning bomb. They waited but nothing emerged.

“I think they’re done. At least for now.” Anton said. “I don’t want to check over every little corner of the mine. Just the main building, see what we can find, and then continue with our journey. As you said, we can’t afford to waste any time.”

The Dark Elves looked a little relieved. Everyone retreated to the carts, the dwarves took their seats with crossbows at the ready, and the Dark Elves reformed the perimeter. Anton signalled to the drivers to advance. The streets were over-run with grass and weeds, the once well-trodden cobblestone overgrow and upturned as the slow but implacable growth of vegetation marched forward. Vines draped over the ruined buildings, figs took root in the rooves and had pushed several buildings apart. The inside of the rotten wooden walls were filled with them. A small fluttered down and began to peck at a tiny blue fruit. While it was eating it raised its tail and relieved itself. The small white streak ran down the wood, Anton saw a small red seed nestle itself in a large splinter.

“Once people leave it’s not long before nature takes over,” Anton said aloud. “More so here, where there isn’t any concrete.”

Verona followed his sight but didn’t understand his words.

Pieces of ruined barricades littered the streets, rusted arrowheads and spear tips trodden into the muddy road. Small bones, far smaller than a humans’, lay nearby. Probably Ghlotsm bones.

What do they eat anyway? Do they eat grass like the Goblins? If they do we’re in for a real fight when they breed up.

After moving the old barricades they reached the central building of Balefire Mine. While it was only two stories tall it was by far the biggest, bigger than anything in Atros. A set of iron tracks came out of the mine before disappearing into the building. These too were rusted by age and neglect. He couldn’t see any mine carts resting on the flat section. They may be still in the mine or inside the building.

This place was a very big operation. Not surprising considering when there’s that much silver just pouring out of the wall…

“Hold up,” Anton said. The convoy stopped and everyone went to full alert, several of the Dark Elves aimed their bows at the open entrance to the main building.

“What’s wrong?” Kal asked. “I can’t hear anything.”

“It’s…We’ll check the Goblins on the way out. Not before.”

Everyone looked at Anton before moving forward.

Goblins couldn’t want the silver. Surely? But what if they do…

Wooden windows had been broken and smashed open and giant holes ripped throughout the lower levels of the wall. Anton dismounted from his horse and cautiously approached the main door. His eyes were drawn to the edges of holes in the wood. There were claw marks, very old and weathered, which matched those of the Goblins. Not Ghlotsm.

“Guess the Ghlotsm were latecomers.” Anton said. “They must have wanted this place for a nest, rather than the abundance of silver.”

“Not surprising.” Umikgruid nodded at the other side of the doorway. “Look at this.”

A strange faded circular red mark had been painted onto the wall. Anton didn’t recognise it but he felt something leaking from it, weaker than the gentle breeze brushing against his face but something was there.

“What is it?” Kal asked. “My fur feels itchy…”

“Isn’t that what happened last time?” Verona raised a brow.

“No. Not…Them. A thousand knives were being driven underneath my fur. This just feels like-”

“A tiny itch everywhere?” Anton asked.

Kal nodded.

“I can’t feel anything,” Verona said. Cetina shrugged lightly.

“It’s a ward,” Ceccitol said. “A very old one at that. Designed to repel Goblins.” The red marks disintegrated at the lightest. “Looks like it hasn’t been reinvigorated in some time.”

“Must have just been holding on.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “But I haven’t seen one like this before.”

“Me neither,” Ceccitol said. “But it does look familiar.”

“If it’s a ward it didn’t work that well.” Anton looked to the broken walls.

“Wards only keep them away if they’re wandering about, not alerted to something.” Ceccitol began. “If they get riled up they’d just ignore it. And if it’s the wrong creature then it won’t work…”

Kal felt the Demons arriving. So why me this time as well?

“Tell me, do the Dark Elves have wards that keep away the Goblins? If so how did the Green Moon Clan fall?”

“We do,” Tuccac said. “But, as Ceccitol said, they’re useless once the Goblins are riled up and angry.”

“Or if they’re directed by an Awakened.” Anton mused. “No wonder they didn’t realise what was really happening until it was too late.”

“So can we make these?” Verona asked. “Hang them off the walls or paint them on rocks outside Atros?” Verona sniggered at Aton. “I know how you love your stones.”

Ceccitol nodded. “We could. But no one here knows how. Or what to even use.”

“Same.” Umikgruid chuckled. “Though I know that ours will be far stronger than anything the Dark Elves could make.”

“Except it would take a whole season just to make one.” Ceccitol sniggered at the Dwarf. “If you bothered to rush.”

They glared at each other before their expressions softened. Anton didn’t understand how much was friendly banter, best to stay out of it.

“I want ten Dark Elves to wait here with the carts,” Anton ordered. “The rest of us will head inside, do a quick check over the building and see what we can find.”

Weapons were readied as they gingerly stepped inside. Verona held the blood shards over her head attracting significant attention. Apparently, a Blood Berserker of her power and control was all but unheard of. Metal tracks ran to the far side before looping back to the mine. Rusted mine carts rested on the tracks. The wheels had rusted solid, they likely couldn’t move. Each overflowed with rocks shining with seams of silver. Anton’s first instinct was to rush towards them but held himself back. Hasty decisions would lead to death.

Mining equipment littered the rest of the building, mainly iron picks and shovels. The Ghlotsm didn’t concern themselves with such things, their claws and ferocity were more than enough to take down most aggressors.

A rotten wooden staircase led to the second. A few holes, rotten beams hanging low opened in the ceiling. The leg of a desk hung precariously through one, but the holes looked natural compared to deliberate action.

“Not much down here.” Anton nodded to the carts. “That silver would be nice.”

“Send it back to Atros?” Verona raised a brow. “I know we can’t exactly take it with us.”

“Cetina? How much does raw silver go for in gold coins?”

“I…Don’t know. But if it’s good quality, no impurities, it should be a lot.”

“Then this could be the place that we use to free the Beast-kin from Seocuria.” Kal’s tail swished happily, the Dwarves and Dark Elves noticed and smiled. “Though I’m sure they won’t like working in a mine.”

Kal chuckled. “So long as you aren’t beating them, Anton, I know they’ll do it. Doubly so when they know where the money’s going.”

“Before we do that let’s check upstairs.”

Kal took a step forward but Anton gently held her hand. She understood he didn’t want her to go.

“Ceccitol. Could you send some Dark Elves up there? Make sure that they keep a very light touch, we don’t know how weak it is up there.”

Ceccitol pointed to four Dark Elves. “And if they find anything up there?”

“If it’s hostile, kill it. But be careful of the floor.”

Four Dark Elves nodded, drew their bows, and slinked across the floor. Their boots barely elicited a sound moving across the rotten wooden floor. He understood Kal’s complaining about their noise. As they crept up the stairs Anton noted how little armour they wore on their heads. A simple band with an iron band. While it wouldn’t impede their senses they were very vulnerable to strikes and hits. He trusted their judgement but wondered if it contributed to their poor state on the Shadow Isles. The elves disappeared from sight. A bow loosed and Anton’s muscles tensed. Something slumped down but it was only one. A Dark Elf returned and waved them up. Anton signalled for some Dwarves and Dark Elves to wait near the door, they followed his orders even if he wasn’t their leader.

“My Lady.” The Dark Elf woman spoke softly, yet with a certain clarity to her voice. “We found only one Ghlotsm. It appeared wounded, so we removed the threat.”

“Removed the threat.” Verona chuckled.

“What’s up there?”

“A lot of desks. Books. And a few other things.” The woman shrugged. “Doesn’t look to be much of value.”

“Information is value,” Anton said. “We’ll take a look.”

The second floor looked like a crime scene after an explosion. Everything was overturned and thrown about, books and stationery items lay scattered over the floor. The Dark Elf was right. There didn’t appear to be much of any value. Nevertheless, this was where the Kar Kingdom noble fled alongside a mage. Anton was curious to find out what happened to them.

“Who can read?” Anton asked.

Kal’s hand shot up, Verona and Cetina looked away. Ceccitol and Umikgruid raised their hands while the four Dark Elves followed Verona and Cetina’s look.

Guess reading comprehension isn’t good anywhere in this world. I wonder how the other Dwarves perform.

“Okay. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but anything to do with what happened her would be good.”

Most books were rotten, disintegrating upon the first touch, and any writing had faded along with it. Kal stayed close but appeared just as frustrated they couldn’t find anything useful. Verona and Cetina rummaged through the desks, at Verona’s behest. They found trinkets and items but nothing much of value. Anton’s attention was finally drawn to the far end of the second story. A large table, ornate and in the best condition of those present, sat before a large broken glass window.

“That’s where I’d be if I were the boss,” Anton said. “Let’s see…”

He gingerly stepped around the holes, Kal kept a hold of his hand as she scanned the floor for weaknesses. The table had several draws. Locked, even after all this time.

“The Ghlotsm wouldn’t care to rummage through this.” Anton mussed.

“That means the Goblins weren’t here for long.” Kal looked out the window. “Before the Ghlotsm took over.”

Anton looked into the mine. From this vantage point, it was even more magnificent and impressive. The mine travelled far deeper than he first thought. The true bottom was completely obscured from sight. The mine had been dug in a spiral to allow the twin rails, broken in some sections, to reach the bottom.

“Why did they go so far down?” Anton mused.

“What’s wrong?”

“If this is a silver mine, why not just expand the mine outwards rather than downwards? It’s a lot easier to do that…The only reason I can think of is that they found something more valuable than silver at the bottom.”

“Gold?” Kal scratched her chin with a single gloved finger. “Maybe some of those rare metals. Chelium, Bosciycium or Adamantium? They’d definitely want that for weapons and armour.”

“Yes. Just another thought.” Anton turned to the desk. “I think that this place might be more valuable than we first thought. Definitely need another portal and get this place up and running. But not before we have thousands more Beast-kin.”

“Right.” Kal knelt beside the draws. “Do you want me to use my magic to open the lock?”

“Sure.”

Anton remembered Cetina’s small Ghlyirl box. They had not found a key, not that they had been looking for it, and still had no idea why Duran had died trying to stop Eluria and Sancha getting their hands on it. The Dwarves might know how to open it.

Kal opened the lock with her magic. A soft metallic thunk emanated from the drawer. Inside lay fountain dip pens, something they could actually use, and a wax stamp. On the bottom lay the eight-pointed crown of the Kar kingdom, the same mark present on all their coins.

I wonder if anyone’s wondering where we got the gold? Once they realise it’s real I don’t think they care.

“The pens are useful.” Kal reached into the second draw and brought out several more. “There’s…A few pieces of paper with shipping records."

“Anything good?” Verona asked.

She and Cetina had given up their search and gingerly moved to their side. Verona rested her rear on the table, Anton shooed her off, just in case it couldn’t handle the weight. Verona feigned dignity that her butt was too big.

“Not really.” Kal opened the third drawer. “Oh. A small bar of silver.”

“Now that’s interesting.” Verona took the small metal bar. “Oh. It’s pretty heavy.”

“Even better,” Anton said. “We’ll sell it when we get to Koumore. We can buy some goods with that money and send it back to Atros.”

“Spices?” Verona’s eyes sparkled with hope.

“We’ll see.” Anton patted her helmet. “If there is I’ll show you what I can whip up.”

“Yes!” Verona’s eyes sparkled brighter. “Yummy food. Yummy food.”

“So not much else?” Cetina asked. “I don’t think the others are having much luck.”

Umikgruid and Ceccitol frowning as they inspected the heavily damaged books.

“Again, when we come back we’ll have people go over this-”

“Oh!” Kal squeaked with delight, her ears pricked up. “I might have found something for you, Anton. Something I’d know you’ll like.”

“That’s either a rock or a swooning girl.” Verona laughed.

Kal thrust a book into his face. It wasn’t a ledger, like the vast majority of the books lying on the floor. It was a journal. A familiar journal.

“Excellent work, Kal.” Anton kissed her lightly again. Verona grumbled something, she’d need attention later otherwise she’d be in a mood. “Now let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Just like the journal found in the chest during their trip to Graterious the paper was incredibly fragile less compared to those left to the elements. Anton chanted a prayer to restore the book.

“Have you got something?” Umikgruid asked.

“What about you two?”

Ceccitol sighed. “Nothing. These are all old ledgers detailing shipments. But these are very boring. Not something I’d expect from a Kingdom that collapsed.”

“A dead Kingdom has no need for silver.” Umikgruid’s eyes widened as he saw the small bar. Verona chuckled as she passed it over. “This is pretty good, very few impurities. It’d sell for quite a sum.”

“Not to mention all those carts downstairs.” Anton opened the Journal to the front page. “There’s a small fortune down there. Now…What do we have here?”

The journal was still tattered but readable.

“It’s…It is from the same guy.” Anton began, Cetina frowned and tilted her head. “We found a journal in Mount Aspire from a Kar Kingdom noble that was ambushed by the Goblins. Then another in a locked chest in the ruins of a city, saying that he was coming here after being helped by a female mage. I’m guessing that she was responsible for those wards. There’s probably more on the outer walls, faded over time.”

“Sounds very odd.” Cetina held her chin. “And it ends up here in this desk?”

“Maybe they tried to continue the old Kingdom’s bureaucracy. And he managed to get put in charge since nobles historically rule things.” Anton shrugged. “Anyway…The first few pages are about running Balefire mine like it’s the last bastion of civilisation in the Kingdom.”

“If they only knew about Atros.” Verona frowned. “Though, I’m sure we would have gone along with them and banded together. This place had bigger walls than Atros did.” Verona sniggered. “When you turned up you would have been all alone.”

Anton sighed. “And it looks like it went well. He’s talking about them actually growing, though they are ignoring the mine…Hang on.”

“What?” Kal leant over his shoulder. She frowned as she looked at the word Anton’s finger hovered over. “Oh…”

“Ferula,” Anton said. “The mage that helped them is called Ferula.”

“Oh.” Verona folded her arms. “Well, that explains why she looks so old. She must be…ninety winters or more.”

“That’s not that old,” Ceccitol said, strangely defiant.

“…Anyway.” Anton returned his attention to the journal. “Seems like she set up the wards. And it mentions there are a lot covering the entire perimeter. He seems very excited. Also excited to get silver production up and running again, I don’t think their priorities are right but...”

“So where does it all go wrong?” Verona asked, swinging a leg as she rested against the desk.

“I’ll check the last entry. Here’s where it goes wrong. Seems it was the Ghlotsm. They weren’t ready for them, barricaded up the city and...” Anton frowned. “Seems he didn’t like that Ferula left.”

Anton coughed. “That bitch, after everything she’s done for us, she’s not here when we need her the most.”

“Sounds demanding.” Verona sighed.

“The Ghlotsm aren’t affected by the wards. They’re knocking on the walls of the sorting building. We can only hope that she comes soon. Otherwise, we’ll all be dead. Even if they get in they shouldn’t be able to get into the cellar.”

“Is that it?” Kal asked. She gently took the journal from him and flicked through the blank pages.

“Sounds like he expected to return,” Cetina said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have locked it away.”

“We should have a look for that cellar.” Anton closed the draws and began walking to the stairs. “I know there’s no chance they’re still alive if they’re down there.”

“Let us find it.” Umikgruid thumped his chest. “We deal with wood just as well as stone.”

“Dwarves are very good at working with both.” Ceccitol sighed with a smile.

As they began walking down the stairs Anton tapped on Cetina’s shoulder, motioning for her to hang back.

“Do you still have that little Ghlyirl box?”

Cetina’s face darkened slightly. “I do. I found it at the bottom of my pack. Just…pushed it out my mind.”

“Your father fought with everything he had to keep whatever is inside safe. We can’t open it, but one of the Dwarves or Dark Elves might be able to. Do you want to know what’s inside?”

Cetina’s eyes flicked to the floor. “I…I do. I want to know what those two bitches wanted with us in the first place. Sancha’s dead…” Cetina’s teeth ground at the mere mention of her name. “But Eluria’s still out there. She was probably the reason my mother disappeared. So she could…”

Anton held her shoulder until her anger subsided. Verona and Kal peeked up the stairs. Verona whispered something to Kal, both girls smirked, before disappearing from sight. Cetina gently patted his hand.

“I’m okay, Anton. I’m okay. I don’t like thinking about it, that’s all.”

“If…If you ever want to talk about it I can listen.”

Cetina nodded, a faint smile crept over her face. “Thanks, Anton. We should keep moving otherwise they’ll wonder what we’re doing.”

Anton followed Cetina down the stairs. Verona held a wild smile when they reached the ground, but she refused to elaborate further.

“Found it.” A Dwarf said loudly.

The Dwarves stood around a large opened wooden hatch to the side of the stairs. Anton was impressed at the speed at which they found it.

Umikgruid saw his face and smiled. “I told you that we were good.”

“They basically just walked to it,” Verona said. “Almost like they knew it was there…”

Umikgruid huffed. “If anyone bothered to look they would have noticed the gaps along the width of the wooden panels, a line of them. It wasn’t that hard.”

“Anything down there?” Anton asked.

Umikgruid chucked a small stone down the steps, rattling and bouncing until it faded from sight.

“Don’t know. But it’s quite deep.” Umikgruid squinted his eyes. “No light too.”

Anton summoned a small fireball.

“The ease of which you can do that…” Tuccac frowned lightly. “And with such frivolity too.”

Anton chuckled. “It’s the only way I can fight. If I didn’t have my magic I’d be basically useless. A few Dwarves and Dark Elves are to come with us. It’ll help us cover more ground very quickly.”

Anton pushed the fireball down the stairs. The stone steps were of good quality though covered in dust. The perfectly uniform layer told him that no one had disturbed it in a long time. Small plumes of dust rose around their feet along the slow descent. They dropped several meters before reaching the bottom. Anton increased the brightness, fully illuminating the room. It was very large.

And filled with corpses.

Over a hundred withered corpses lay huddled around open crates and barrels. Their skin had rotted away, the skeleton themselves were only held together by the tiniest hints of dried and desiccated tendons and sinew. Many had collapsed and were now simply a pile of bones held together inside of clothes. Anton’s stomach turned when he saw several small skulls.

“Guess Ferula didn’t come back,” Verona mumbled.

“How long did they wait here before they realised there wasn’t any hope?” Kal shook her head. “Did they just sit here and waste away, or did they choose to take a faster way out?”

“I think the quicker way.” Anton pointed to a small dagger stained with old blood, held in a bundle of hand bones.

“Oh.” Verona sighed. “Well…That’s that then.”

“There’s another room over there.” Anton summoned a second fireball and pushed towards a stone doorway. “Perhaps this place is filled with silver.”

Verona laughed, summoning her blood shards over her head. “If that’s true then we can buy so many Beast-kin.” She rubbed her cheeks, Kal grumbled and wrapped an arm around his. “All those fluffy tails and ears…”

Crates, marked with the Kar Kingdom’s eight-pointed crown filled the next room. Anton hoped they weren’t going to be filled with human skulls this time.

What was all that about anyway? Did someone just lose their mind near the end or was in preparation for some sort of ritual that wasn’t finished?

As Verona neared the doorway Cetina reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. Verona raised a brow, her eyes unreadable underneath the bright red glow of her power.

“You…You probably shouldn’t go first.” Cetina smiled. “You don’t have a shield.”

Verona shrugged. “I was just going to push my blood shards through first but okay then.”

Verona summoned her blood shards and pushed them through to the next room. They hovered as Cetina, her shield and sword raised, gingerly walked through the gap. Nothing happened and they all relaxed.

“Silver!” She shouted. “Lots of silver. One of the crates behind the wall has broken and they’ve just spilt out…I didn’t see a forge of smelter here.”

“It must have just broken over the ages.” Verona walked towards the doorway. “And if that whole room’s full of it…” She turned to Anton, walking backwards. “Would we be able to buy a city with this? Oh, maybe a small mansion out of the way where we can run away and have some fun. I-”

Verona’s heel touched the stones between the doorway. Blue light etched into the stone forming a small circle. Verona glanced down and jumped back, landing onto a surprised Cetina. Everyone readied their weapons as the small mark faded away.

“That was close.” Verona chuckled nervously, patting Cetina’s arm. “Thanks for that.”

“I…I just stood here.”

“Anyone know what that was?” Anton asked, crouching down and looking along the stones.

“Never seen it before,” Ceccitol said. “But-”

A growl emanated from behind Cetina. She immediately leapt over the stones, half holding Verona, before throwing her at Anton and resuming her stance. Verona didn’t speak, neither did he, as they looked towards the second room. The bright light caught a moving shadow, something moving behind the crates. At first, there was only one but it quickly grew to eight. Eight somethings were moving towards them, and they were not Ghlotsm. They were far too large.

Some sort of Ghlotsm Brood Mother? No, nothing had disturbed that dust. Something that’s been down here all this time. But what…

An eerie blue light gently cast itself over the wooden crates as the something’s approached. Verona drew back her shards and Kal readied a lightning arrow.

The first creature emerged. A wolf, at least at first. Walking on all fours its back reached almost one and a half meters tall. But this was no wolf. Its eyes, hollowed husks, glowed with the strange blue light, small wisps of smoke leaked out and faded into the air. Old and patchy fur covered most of its body, the holes large enough to reveal the bones moving underneath. Where organs and flesh once lay only an ethereal blue light remained. Its lower jaw was missing but it was replaced by the blue light.

“Necromancy!” Ceccitol yelled.

She loosed an arrow into the wolf’s head. The bow smashed through the dead skin and skull but the skeletal wolf kept moving. The glowing blue eyes narrowed as it lunged at them.

Anton fired a powerful lightning bolt into the Skeleton Wolf’s head. It exploded, fragments of bones flying everywhere. The blue light faded and the bones fell apart into a loose bundle, kept together by skin and fur. The corpse skidded to their feet and remained perfectly still. Verona threw a large shard into the bones. Again, nothing happened.

“Skeleton wolves?” Anton asked Ceccitol.

Ceccitol nodded. “Yes. But I haven’t seen necromancy for the last ten cycles. There might only be twenty of them on the Shadow Isles.”

“At least they aren’t killed outright,” Anton said. “But I can guess why they aren’t particularly liked.”

No one really wants to see their loved ones shuffling about. Animals wouldn’t’ be so bad, but playing with death will probably never had a good image.

The shadows continued to move towards them, all Skeleton Wolves. Anton wasn’t going to wait and find out how dangerous they really were; how strong their swipes and bites were no how the blue light affected their speed. When they emerged into view Anton fired lightning bolts into their heads. Once their skulls were smashed in the blue light left their bodies and the bones collapsed onto the floor. His curiosity wasn’t worth someone’s life.

“Why were they here?” Verona asked. She drove a blood shard into each corpse, smashing the skull to smithereens.

“Guarding the silver,” Anton said. “Probably. Guess that Verona wasn’t allowed to enter so the security activated.”

“So why didn’t it do it for me?” Cetina looked at the stones. “I stepped on them…”

“Magic doesn’t seem to work on you. Not compared to someone like Verona. That might have caused the circle to activate. So…I wonder if it works now.”

Verona stepped forward tapped on the stone with an outstretched foot. The stone remained dormant. Everyone breathed easy. Verona didn’t enter first, allowing a Dark Elf to take that dubious honour. Despite their extreme caution no further lights emerged.

“Anton!” A Dark Elf yelled, hidden behind some of the crates. “I’ve found something!”

Anton gingerly moved through giant stacks of wooden crates. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, now with footprints from the Dark Elves and the Skeleton Wolves. Nothing had moved in this place until just a few minutes ago.

The Dark elf pointed to an open space in the room. A metal circle lay embedded into the stones. Eight places, shaped a like a resting large wolf, were devoid of dust.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” Anton asked, kneeling down and running a hand over the steel band. It was impossibly smooth to the touch and incredibly cold, far colder than the rest of the room.

“No.” The Dark Elf looked behind the metal bands. “There’s dirt here. And not from the wolves.”

Several specks of dirt had built up at the base of the crates forming the rear wall. The Dark Elf nodded to the crates, two columns were misaligned compared to the others. As Anton and the elf began to remove the incredibly heavy Cetina and Kal came to his side.

“Anton.” Kal began. “Verona’s…Oh. You have something.”

“Yeah.” Anton nodded to the metal ring. “That’s where they were resting this whole time. If they’re skeletons then they don’t need to worry about eating or drinking.”

“But magic would surely run out after a while,” Cetina said.

“Not if that band has something to do with it. Maybe they use Earth Mana, like the pens and the portal. That’s what I’d do. I wonder if that stuff runs out? So far it hasn’t.”

Kal and Cetina knelt by the metal band. Kal took a blade and tapped the ring, it rang just like a normal piece of metal.

“Sounds like steel.” Kal shrugged. She looked up at him and frowned. “I’m guessing the wooden board isn’t supposed to be there?”

Behind the crates, a dark piece of wood rested against the stone wall. Anton, Cetina and the Dark Elf, removed the remaining crates. The piece of wood came free without any effort, though it too was quite heavy. Behind it lay a tunnel, travelling deep into the earth. Anton summoned another bright fireball. It had been dug quickly and in a rush, wooden support beams were thrown haphazardly along the entire length. Even at the maximum range of his magic, the tunnel continued into the darkness.

“Are we heading down that?” Cetina asked, raising a black brow.

Anton shook his head. “No. We’ve spent enough time here.” The Dark Elf breathed more easily. “Besides, we need to get these back to Atros for safe keeping.”

Cetina thrust her sword in the crate and ripped it open. These weren’t filled with silver or gold, rather a black rock with a blue ore. As he twisted the ore the blue ore ran along the veins as if it was liquid. Yet it was as hard as stone.

“Strange.” Anton passed the stone to Kal.

“Someone wanted this.” Kal frowned. “Enough to keep it behind necromancy. Eight of them at that.”

“The Dwarves would know.” Anton tossed up another piece of ore. “What were you saying about Verona?”

Kal and Cetina sighed in unison, the Dark Elf looked oddly at Anton.

“She’s fantasising about all the things we could buy with the silver.” Kal sighed again, gently shaking her head. “A lot of it to do with Beast-kin.”

“You just need to let her play with your ears and tail more.” Anton chuckled and gently stroked Kal's ears. Kal grumbled but didn’t recoil, rather pushing her ear closer to his hand.

“My tail is supposed to be only for you,” Kal whispered. “It’s just that she’s always getting her gropey hands on it.”

“How…How soft is it?” Cetina asked.

“Very soft,” Anton said as Kal continued to nuzzle closer to Anton. “But the tail does belong to me. Even if Verona keeps grabbing it at night.”

“You people are very strange.” The Dark Elf said. Anton had almost forgotten he was there. Awkwardness only grew on his face as Anton continued to play with Kal’s ears.

Anton chuckled, patting a slightly disappointed Kal. “We kind of are. But, surely, that’s what you expected from us? You travelled all that way to find someone based on a vision, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to presume they might be a bit weird.”

“I don’t know about that. But…It does line up with the old stories.”

“What kind of stories?” Anton asked, his tone turning more serious. “Of strangers emerging out of nowhere and changing the world? Or turning the tide of some crisis?”

“Sort of.” The Dark Elf scratched his cheek. “Usually it’s someone coming from some faraway land that comes to the aid of a people under threat. It’s been a long time since I’ve told them to my children. I’m sure one of the Elders in The Shadow Isles would know more. They help raise the younger generations. They would know more.”

Kal raised a brow at Anton.

Maybe the Dark Elves, living longer than humans, would have stories about other humans that have come here like I have. But…Does it just have to be humans? What about Dwarves, Dark Elves, Wood Elves…Or maybe a Ghlotsm or a Goblin? The Demons are proving that it’s certainly possible outside the power of the Old Gods.

A sharp point, pricking at the gap in his armour, brought him back. He patted Kal.

“It’s just a thought that’s swimming around my head. If…When, when we defeat the Goblins would I have the opportunity to talk to these Elders?”

“Of course.” The Dark Elf’s voice grew a few levels in pitch, his ears pulling back in happiness. Almost like Kal’s. “I’m sure they would be happy to tell you anything you wanted to know, once The Shadow Isles are safe.”

Well, I can understand why he’s going to push for me to keep going. Even if the stories are just that.

“I’ll be glad to see the Isle. Let’s board this up for now and get this stuff back to Atros.”

After replacing the panel, the blue-veined rock still in Kal’s hands, they returned to the entrance. Verona stood over the crate full of silver, marvelling at the sheer amount of wealth lying before her, while the others rummaged through other crates. These were filled with more silver bars.

Anton glanced at Kal.

That noble probably thought he could by the Kar Kingdom back. But not the way he thought.

“What are you doing?” Anton asked Verona.

Verona, her face beaming with happiness, turned to him even as the silver reflection bathed her face. “Think of all the fluffy Beast-kin we can buy now.”

“Oh dear.” Anton and Kal simultaneously shook their heads.

Verona slapped her thighs and jumped on the box, her legs swinging over the edge of the squeaking crate. “I’m only half kidding. But with this, we can buy pretty much anything. I’ve just been talking to Umikgruid about all the things their clan makes. And, trust me, Atros will be basically impregnable once we’re done.” Her face grew angry, her feet stopped swinging. “No more Goblins to fuck up our lives. That’ll be good.”

Anton pulled Verona off the crate and into a hug. She looked up at him with a curious expression. “Maybe even a beautiful wedding dress.” He whispered into her ear.

Her face reddened as she tried to back away and fight back the embarrassment. Evidently, she’d been thinking about it a lot. They still had yet to pronounce their love to the rest of Atros.

“Now you’ve said it.” Verona smiled wildly. “I was about to go get the portal stones, but I just wanted to double check with you. Also…No one but us three can open them without getting a really nasty zap.”

“That would be great, Verona. I was going to send someone up…That would have made a bad impression.”

Verona laughed and ran back up the stairs.

Umikgruid, rummaging through a different crate of silver ingots, turned idly and disinterested. When he saw the small lump of ore in Kal’s hands his eyes lit up. A trembling finger pointed at the ore.

“Where…Where did you get that?”

“One of the crates over there,” Anton said. “Why? Is it dangerous?”

“Dangerous? No.” Umikgruid raced to Kal, with a speed unbefitting of a Dwarf, and snatched the lump from her hands. Kal threw Anton a glance. “This…This is so rare. No wonder the Kar Kingdom wanted to build a mine here. This is far more valuable than silver.”

“So what is it?” Anton asked, Kal nodded.

“Chelium!” Umikgruid said excitedly. Anton felt odd seeing a Dwarf with sparkling eyes. “This is Chelium ore. Not that much in this one piece but it’s still incredible.”

“There’s at least another crate of it back there.” The Dark Elf said.

Umikgruid’s jaw fell open, so too did the other Dwarves listening in. His eyes snapped between the lump of ore and the elf. “Are you serious?”

The Dark Elf nodded. “Could be more. We only checked one.”

Umikgruid laughed. “If only for this. If only for this the trip has been worth it.”

“How rare is this stuff?” Anton took the ore back, Umikgruid felt loathed to part with it. “We’ve got a few weapons made from it back at Atros.”

Umikgruid chocked on his breath. “That’s incredible…There are only a few deposits in the whole world. The Dwarven Isles only have two small Chelium mines. And they don’t make that much anymore. But…You know that Chelium weapons are far stronger than iron or steel?”

“Yes. Same with the green metal…Bosciycium.”

“You have some of that too?”

“What are you talking about?” Ceccitol approached, her arms folded with Tuccac close behind.

“I think that Umikgruid has fallen in love with a rock,” Tuccac spoke snidely.

Umikgruid waved the Dark Elf off. “Bah! If you had a mine that could bring up this those Goblins wouldn’t have been a problem. You could have bought nearly every mercenary from Bebbezzar and not have to come all this way.”

Both elves fell silent.

“Money isn’t the problem,” Ceccitol said. “I-”

“I know. I know.” Umikgruid smiled. “I doubt someone like you would actually come this far when help is so much closer. And more numerous.”

“Yes…”

“Can you smelt this?” Anton asked. “We haven’t tried to smelt our weapons down. But can we? With the forges that Atros has?”

Umikgruid waved his hands unconvinced. “Your forge is good, for a humans’. Especially so far from the rest of civilisation. But no. You would need a blast furnace. And that would only make poor weapons. Like most of the human Chelium weapons I’ve seen. We Dwarves could make some with our forges…But they are so far away.”

“Hmm.” Anton bounced the ore. “Oh well. We’ll just take them and be done with this place. I’m sure that you’ll all be happier to be travelling again.”

---[]---

The portal, established in the first cellar room, worked exactly as predicted. Anton felt a wash of relief as the white disk formed between the stones and they began to transport the crates safely to Atros. Only one person could carry a crate at a time. Otherwise the first person to fully step onto the portal would teleport away without the crate, causing the other person to fall over and spill the contents of the old and rotten crates. After cleaning out the cellar, Anton was sure they were now millionaires, they returned to the surface but not before placing another portal set in the second room. He had no plans to lay the other portal stones in Atros anytime soon but it would be very useful. After casting a lightning trap prayer on the cellar door they sealed it shut, placing heavy mining equipment on top. Unfortunately, the disorientation played heavily on the Dark Elves and Dwarves so Anton called a brief break before departing. They rested just inside the main building while those outside continued their vigilant watch. Apparently, a few Ghlotsm were lurking in the shadows but were nowhere near brave enough to attack.

“When we come back we’ll need to clear out the Ghlotsm.” Anton enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his face.

“Not before?” Verona asked. “They’re just going to breed back up.”

“And our magic isn’t that effective against them.”

“Still…You’re not going to wipe out the nest?”

“The Goblins, wherever they came from, wanted this place. And if we leave the Ghlotsm alone they’re going to have a very difficult time taking it. Just leave the two to fight it out until we come back.”

“Just like before,” Kal said softly.

“Like Amsore Quarry,” Verona said, elbowing Anton. “That was the first time that we met. Properly, that is.”

“You had been stalking me before that.” Anton smiled.

Verona raised her finger but couldn’t find a response.

Anton patted her helmet and turned to those on guard. “Does anyone know how to pick a lock?”

Gosthilda raised her hand. “I do.”

“Can we borrow you for a moment?” Cetina tensed at his words.

“Sure. But…What could you possibly need unlocking here?”

“Something that not even our magic can deal with.”

Cetina walked silently to her horse and retrieved the small Ghlyirl box. Her lip quivered at the sight of the hexagonal scored metal but she forced herself to be strong, taking a deep breath and slamming her thigh with her fist. She passed the box to Anton, Verona and Kal immediately understood.

“Can you open this?”

Gosthilda raised the lock to her eye, a smirk formed on her lips. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. This was built by Dwarves, a pretty expensive one at that.” She ran her hand over the surface. “And to make it all out of Ghlyirl. Someone didn’t want anyone to know this thing even existed. Any idea what’s inside?”

“No.” Anton folded his arms. “But…It’s…Cost a lot.”

“Give me a moment and I’ll have it open.”

Gosthilda whipped out several small metal pins. After laying the box on the rear of the cart she began to work on the lock.

“We don’t know if there are any traps in the box.” Anton gean. “So, please just be careful.”

“It won’t be magical.” Gosthilda groaned as the lock began to turn. “Not with this. But I know what I’m doing.”

After a few minutes of fiddling with the lock, more curses and tongue waggling, the lock clicked for the final time. Gosthilda stepped to the side and opened the box with a metal pin. A plush, soft and thick red cloth covered the interior, tightly hugging a small white and grey stone.

“That’s it?!” Cetina breathing rapidly grew erratic. “That’s what my father died for? Some stone?”

Anton held her shoulder. Her eye snapped to him, wild with panic and anger, but it was enough to stop her from falling further.

“I’m…I’m okay.”

Verona leant forward. “Any idea what it is?” She poked it with her dagger. “Looks like a normal rock to me.”

“I doubt it would have been some prank,” Anton said. “Not after all this.”

“You can’t feel that?” Kal asked, raising an aqua brow. “I can feel…Mana coming from it. It’s growing too.”

“Is that what that was?” Verona shrugged.

The stone was emanating mana. It felt like the mana within him but somehow was outside his body, unlike his created magic. He simply couldn’t touch it. It was the first time he had felt anything like it. He gingerly picked it up with his left hand and inspected the stone. It was completely unremarkable, apart from a few red marks on one side. Really just red scratches.

“I honestly have no idea.” Anton placed the stone back. “But, it’s still yours Cetina. I wouldn’t sell or throw it away. Best probably to just leave it in the box for now until we know more.”

“Yeah.” Cetina took another deep breath before closing the lid. “Since it’s magical I wonder if that person, what was her name…Ferula, if she knows some…Anton? You’re bleeding.”

Cetina pointed to Anton’s right hand. Even though his hand was fully enclosed by the leather glove blood dripped free in great beads. Delirium washed over his head as he tried to rip the glove from his hand. His vision grew red with blood; his face, ears and pants felt wet but he didn’t care. The only thought running through his mind was to remove the glove, only the most primal of instincts remained. Strength left his body as he staggered to one side. The very ground wrapped around him, dragging the last vestiges of his consciousness into an endless black void.

Chapter 121 - Vol 4 - The White Realm

Chapter 121:

Anton awoke screaming, a blood-curdling scream from the very depth of his black stained soul. His consciousness erupted from the black void and back into reality. Slowly the darkness dripped away from his mind. Even as his thoughts slowly became clearer, little by little, breath by breath, his mind raced to try and make sense of anything. Once enough ink had fallen away he could formulate an actual thought and move his lips.

“I…I was at Balefire Mine. And then I started bleeding and…” Anton stopped speaking. His voice echoed strangely, from everywhere at once.

He forced his eyes open. A clear blue sky did not greet him. Nor was it the pale blue of the God’s Realm. The perfectly white sky, bright without any sun, stretched as far as he could see. He raised his hand and almost recoiled in shock. White ethereal energy replaced his hands, even his whole body. His clothes had disappeared yet he didn’t feel naked.

Anton rocked his head to the side. Golden grass, with white veins, nestled his body. A ring of golden trees encircled him, rustling in a near silent breeze. Just like the grass their leaves were a lighter gold than the trunk and woven with white veins. A small waterfall, more like a small pond, lay just inside the golden tree perimeter. Whitewater cascaded down a black stone fountain.

Anton forced himself to his feet. After a few steps he could move perfectly fine. His magic, that once was so easy to use, was completely beyond him. The heaviness of mana remained within his body but he was unable to utilise it no matter how much he forced or pleaded it to work.

“I couldn’t use it the last time I travelled to another place like this too.” Anton scratched his head. The hair underneath his fingers felt wispy and light. It took some time for the strands to fall back down. “Right…Hel…No. Better not just yell. I’ve got no idea where I am.”

The grass didn’t crunch or make any sound as he walked over them. They silently folded underneath his feet, gently returning to their original position a few seconds later. Anton tried to jump, to test if the physics of this world were different. They were not. Grumbling, he walked to the small pond and knelt down in front of it. Small red fish darted through the white water. He touched the water causing a tiny ripple to rush over the surface, even against the ripples made by the flowing water.

None of this makes sense. Maybe I should just go with it for now? It’s a better idea than panicking.

A snap made Anton drop to the ground. A crack of thunder. Fearing the red lightning of the Demons he looked up only to see a writhing line of black lightning running along the white sky. Another crackle of lightning came from beyond the small pond as another writhing line of black lightning ran over his head, splitting the clear white sky. It didn’t actually travel in a straight line rather hoping along invisible points in the sky. He followed the lightning into the distance as it faded away.

“Looks like that way’s my best bet.” Anton murmured. He looked around. “Doesn’t seem like someone’s going to come and find me this time.”

As he pushed his way through the trees his mind drifted back to Verona and Kal. He wanted to return to everyone. But he was brought to this place for a reason. And he needed to find out why.

Past the golden trees a golden grassland continued without end in every direction. Large white cubes, jutting out of the ground and one another, lay scattered throughout the grassland slowly growing in density towards the source of the black lightning. In the distance, a large tower, made from the same white material as the cubes, soared into the sky. From the very tip, the black lightning emanated, one bolt every second that darted off into a random direction.

“Okay…” Anton checked the grasslands again for any sort of movement. “Looks like it’s just me…And those fish.”

Tentatively he stepped out into the grasslands. Fearing that there might be something else in this realm, other than the small red fish, he crouched low and hid behind the white cubes. Each had an impossibly smooth yet warm surface. It didn’t feel alive but Anton knew that he could very well be wrong. Everything in this world was wrong, coming from a visitor like himself. Anton lost track of time as he slipped silently through the empty grasslands. Soon he resorted to scrambling over the white cubes as the golden grass disappeared and only fields of cubes remained. He slipped and landed his foot on the edge. Expecting a painful strike his scrunched his eyes tight and waited for the jolt of pain. When he opened his eyes his foot simply rested on the razor sharp edge. Trying his luck he jumped onto the foot to see if there was any feeling other than touch. His ethereal body appeared impervious to such injuries, though he wasn’t going to test it further.

After hours of travelling something was bothering him. Not only was he not running out of breath or even beginning to tire the tower had not moved. Anton ran up the tallest cube he could find. The small ring of trees lay at the very edge of his vision, everything faded into a white haze beyond that. When he looked to the tower he saw the cube boulders begin to thin out and the grasslands return. A large forest of golden trees lay on the other side of the grasslands. It was difficult to determine distance on the open and featureless ground.

“Ugh.” Anton sighed, his voice echoed even surrounded by nothing. “How long is this going to take?”

He continued walking through the golden grassland. He hoped that, if he could find a way back, time didn’t flow strangely here. To come back to an old body…

A laugh, echoing through the trees, instantly caused him to drop low again. It was a child’s laugh, happy and playful. Another laugh echoed through the golden trees.

Children? Well, it’s a start. Though I might have a hard time explaining what I’m doing here completely naked.

Anton quietly moved through the forest, following the growing sounds of children’s laughter. Though he was moving quickly it still sounded extremely far away. Finally, the forest began to thin. Thirteen children played in a clearing. Each looked had an ethereal white body like him but they had subtle differences. About half were girls, at least they wore dresses, while the boys wore pants and no shirts. Their hair flowed just like Anton’s, hair flowing through water, and he couldn’t see their faces. The contours existed but nothing existed except their mouths, not even their eyes. Several chased one another while the rest were played with small dolls. Judging by the colour and texture they were made from the cube boulders.

“Hello?” Anton asked, hiding behind the trees.

The children didn’t notice him.

“Hello?!”

Again the children didn’t register his presence. He stepped out and shouted again. Still, they ignored him.

“Can they just not see me?”

Anton knelt beside a child playing at the edge. He played with small white blocks trying to form a castle. Some of the blocks fell over and he groaned, shaking his head before starting to rebuild them. Another boy approached, this one didn’t see Anton either, and brought a set of dolls to play with him. The first child quickly finished the block castle and began playing with the dolls. They were quite ornate, toy soldiers, but something tickled at the back of Anton’s mind. The dolls hunched over slightly and held deformed faces despite a resplendent set of armour.

Is that…

The second child produced another type of doll. Anton’s blood ran cold.

A Ghlotsm doll. It was unmistakable. The arms, sharp claws, paunch stomach and sunken eyes. A Ghlotsm that someone had tried to model as a majestic specimen.

The children started to play with the two different dolls, making growling noises as they pretended to fight amongst each other.

If that’s a Ghlotsm then-

Every child stopped, turning to face a single point. A small green disk formed in the air, slowly growing until it was three meters across. The child building the castle backed away as a white light began to cover his body. The other children had the same ethereal glow but nowhere near as intense. The child backed away from the portal and dropped the Goblin Doll. He reached into his pants and drew another doll; some mutant amalgamation of a wingless dragon and a human with giant claws, an oversized jaw bristling with teeth and an elongated cranium forming a triangular shape with layers of carapace armour and five backwards pointing horns on the edge. Whatever it was it looked dangerous. The child looked at the doll as the light concentrated around it. He continued to back away from the growing green portal, his otherwise featureless face hid his emotuion but Anton recognised his worried stance, before passing through Anton. His white glowing aura remained within Anton, a searing heat coursed through Anton's body from the waist down, as the child passed through otherwise unchanged. Anton turned to the child as the burning sensation began to overwhelm his senses. The child tilted his head as he flexed his hands, glancing at the dim doll.

“Trellos!” A young girl screamed, tripping and crashing into the golden grass. Another set of white dolls scattered from her hands, rolling into the tree-line. She hauled herself up and gave chase, snatching up the Ghlotsm doll all while looking back at the green disk.

The boy glanced at her then to Anton. Despite his lack of eyes Anton still felt the boy’s sight tearing through him.

“You? What did you do? What are you doing-”

A terrible weight began to fall over Anton even as the burning threatened to overwhelm his very thoughts. The strength left his legs before he crashed into the soft golden grass. Even with every ounce of effort, he couldn’t manage to raise his hand. With his breath fading and the darkness and burning beginning to swamp his mind once again the green disk burst in a flash of green. A portal. People started to move through, not children. A woman stepped through. Long flowing blonde hair trailed behind her, the green light of the portal only enhanced the brightness of her slim green dress. As she raised her hand, a green glowing light swirled around it, another woman emerged through the portal. A woman wearing a white habit. A scream filled his ears before darkness overtook him once again.

---[]---

A gentle slap brought Anton to a clear blue sky. He blinked furiously to try and regain some cognitive thought. A young woman leant over him, her eyes red and her pale skinned face drenched in worry.

“You’re awake!” Verona collapsed her head onto his chest, gently thumping her fists on his chest. “Thank the fucking gods! I thought you were gone.”

“What…What happened?” Anton’s voice was harsh, raspy, but it didn’t echo this time.

“Just rest.” Kal pushed his head down as he tried to rise up, a motherly expression on her face. “You…We were really worried. You passed out and nearly cracked your head on the cart. Cetina caught you but you still fell down pretty very hard.”

Kal gently stroked his head. “I actually thought this might be it. Some rotten hole…So far from home.”

Anton slipped a hand behind his head. His fingers were slick with blood but he couldn’t feel any wound. Kal wouldn’t have left the wound open.

“How long was I out?”

“Not long.” Verona smiled, wiping away the tears still running down her face. “Um…Really not that long. The sun’s barely moved.”

Anton craned his neck back, earning a severe look of worry from Kal. The sun had indeed barely moved. He might have been down for just a few minutes.

“Are you sure? It felt like hours in there.” Anton mumbled. “Days, maybe.”

“You went somewhere?”

Anton looked back, Cetina sat in a kneeling position behind his head. Her sword and shield lay against the cart but within easy reach.

“Kind of.” Anton groaned. “It’s pretty difficult to explain. But…I am back.”

His right hand, unlike his left, felt warm and dry dirt beneath his fingers. His glove lay next to it, stained in wet blood. The skin around the white embedded crystal had inflamed with many cracks, tiny rivulets of blood running down his skin. A rag, soaked with blood, lay to Kal’s side.

“The blood stopped flowing once you fell down.” Kal began, gently stroking his head. “Verona was panicking the most. She, and a few of us thought you had lost your hand.”

“Yeah…” Anton poked the skin. Jolts of pain came with every touch. The white crystal, given forcibly by Tethra, had dimmed a shade.

That crystal doesn’t look like anything from that realm. Thankfully. But what would have happened if I held the stone for just a few seconds more? Would it have fallen out? Turned black? The crystal itself is bigger than my hand. When Tethra put it in it most of it vanished into nothingness.

Anton tried to haul himself up but Verona and Kal stopped him again. Their looks of elation changed to worry and fear as they held him down.

“Is something else wrong?” Anton asked, glancing back to Cetina. She winced slightly. “What’s going on? I’ve still got everything. I didn’t lose the other hand, right?”

“That’s…” Verona glanced at Kal. “Kind of the problem.”

Anton sighed. “Well, can you at least help me up? I don’t want to be lying down for the next hour until my head’s completely fine.”

“Alright then.” Verona smiled bitterly. “Cetina? Can you help please?”

“Of course.”

Anton shuffled backwards, his backside and legs felt odd, as Cetina lifted him by his armpits. She was very strong, almost able to lift him by herself. How much blood did he lose? Verona and Kal gently held his waist, a slightly pained expression on their tired faces, and refused to let go.

“Um. Cetina?” Anton felt something odd along his back.

“Yes, Anton?”

Verona coughed lightly. “Don’t let go, Cetina.”

Cetina’s hands gripped tight. Obviously, his wives weren’t too worried about Cetina being so close. Which only made him more concerned.

“Cetina.” Anton glanced back. “Are you poking your leg into my back?”

“No.” Cetina forcibly kept her face flat.

“Then what am I feeling back there?”

“Don’t let go.” Verona chuckled nervously before clapping her hands. “Anton. No matter what happens I want you to remain calm.”

“Why?” Anton looked to his butt, covered by his bloodstained cloak. “What have you done?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Kal said. “But please listen to Verona. We don’t want you to panic or start lashing out.”

“Neither of you are helping.” Anton snapped. They smiled with understanding, it was the first time Anton had spoken to them in such a manner.

Anton raised his arm, the cloak dragged on his arm and something brushed against his leg. But he was still wearing his pants.

“Did you cut away some of my clothes?”

“No.” Verona nodded at Cetina. Her grip increased.

Anton grumbled and threw back his cloak. A tail, covered in large black scales with a ridgeline of small white spikes running along its length, rested between his legs almost reaching the ground. Just below his knees, the tail split into four. These too had a small ridgeline of white spines that formed a white point at the end. Anton stared, unblinking and unmoving. The gentle breeze pushed the edge of the cloak against the scales, a jolt of touch raced to his brain.

“What the fuck!” Anton screamed.

“Hold him!” Verona yelled. She held his face still. “It’s okay. Anton. It’s okay.”

“What?” Anton’s hand shook as he reached down. Now he understood where the sensations came from. “When did this happen?”

“Do you think you can stand on your own?” Verona asked.

“Maybe we should move you…” Kal pointed to the rear of the Dwarven cart. “Wait just a second.”

The Dwarves and Dark Elves had formed a large perimeter, keeping their watch outward. Occasionally one would glance back, the looks of worry dissipated upon seeing Anton standing. Kal returned with a large empty crate, the breeze brushed against his tail again. He whimpered at the strange sensation shooting up his spine.

“You sound like a little girl.” Verona laughed, relinquishing her hold on his face and holding his hands. “Don’t give me that look. I’m just trying to keep you smiling.”

“Well…It is helping a bit.” Anton admitted. “Not that I was expecting to have a freaking tail when I woke up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a tail,” Kal grumbled, placing the crate to Anton’s side. “I thought you liked mine.”

“I do. But only one of us should have one.”

Verona nodded at Cetina. “It’s not exactly over just yet.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t,” Anton grumbled.

Cetina gently helped him onto the crate, ensuring he didn’t accidentally sit on it. It dragged along the ground, sending another shiver of information up his spine. When Cetina relinquished her hold he realised that is legs had barely been working. He mouthed a silent thanks to Cetina and moved his cloak to the side.

“Can you move it?” Kal asked. She gingerly manoeuvred the tail to his lap.

“I…Think so.” Anton forced himself to remain calm. “It feels so strange for you to touch it.”

“I think we’ll keep the funny stuff until we’re done.” Verona mused, kneeling in front of him. “Does it hurt?”

Anton tapped one of the four small end pieces. He could clearly feel the depression of his finger but it was slightly muted compared to skin. Not surprising considering it was covered by scales.

“No. Not really.”

“That’s good.”

“Please explain what happened from the beginning.” Anton rested his elbows on his knees, careful to not touch his strange new tail. His thoughts drifted to the new appendage. After a moment he lifted it up and manoeuvred the small ends about. He forced it back down, the limb responded perfectly. “This is ridiculous. I guess this is how we’d feel if we were thrust into Kal’s body.”

Verona coughed lightly. “After you fell down you started bleeding and it just wouldn’t stop. Kal tried healing you, that really didn’t work and I couldn’t control the blood to try and put it back in. The blood that I had just wasn’t enough and it just kept on flowing out. We all thought you were going to die.”

“And you were mumbling something.” Kal held his hand. “I couldn’t understand it. None of us could. If anything…” Kal glanced to her side and leant close. “It sounded like a Goblin’s screech.”

Verona and Cetina nodded seriously.

Anton took a deep breath and explained what he saw.

“That’s just strange.” Verona glanced at Kal. “Never heard of anything like that before. Being a white ghost in that weird place.”

“Me neither.” Cetina frowned lightly. “Neither did any of the Dwarves or Dark Elves.”

“They saw this too?”

Verona smiled. “Pretty hard for them not to. Your shouting also brought a whole bunch of Ghlotsm too.”

She pointed towards the open cut mine. A fresh pile of Ghlotsm bodies lay in the street, peppered by black Dark Elf arrows and Dwarven bolts. Several of their number moved amongst the corpses recovering the ammunition.

“So what do they have to say about this?” Anton touched his tail.

“Nothing yet.” Verona shrugged. “I think they wanted to see if you would live first. They’ll probably say something soon. I don’t think it’s bad, but…You never know.”

“Let’s hope not.” Anton ran his hand through his hair. The wet blood stuck to his hands.

“Let me get you something.” Kal jumped up and moved to the supply cart.

A Dark Elf and Dwarf tried to speak to her but she politely waved them down before taking the self-filling water barrel. She took several straps of loose cloth and brought them to Anton. She angled the barrel so the water would constantly flow out and began to clean the blood from Anton’s head. Cetina took another cloth strapped and began to help.

Verona chuckled. “Doesn’t need any push now…I guess I’ll be the one that tells the story then.” Verona shrugged. “As you were shouting the blood began to coil around your backside. Then it started to form into that tail. After it formed…You calmed down.”

“And then I woke up?”

“A little bit after that.” A tear ran down her face. “When you stopped moving I thought you were actually dead.”

Anton gently held her cheek, Verona held his hand tight and closed her eyes. “I thought I might have been stuck in that place forever. Or maybe that I’d be an old man when I got out.”

Verona laughed, patting his hand. “We would have found a way to get you back before then. Do you think we would have just shrugged and walked away?”

“Never.” Anton took a deep breath. “What do I do with this thing? Cut it off?”

“I don’t think that’ll work.” Kal sighed lightly.

“Why?”

Verona held up a small scaled tail, identical to one of the four forming the end of his tail.

“Did I originally have five of these things?” Anton pointed the ends at his face, searching for a stump.

“Nope.” Verona twirled the flesh in her fingers. Anton reached out and stopped her. “We thought that maybe giving you a jolt would wake you up. And since you can heal missing limbs I thought…I’d remove this.”

“So Kal healed me?”

Kal grunted and shook her head. “I didn’t heal you after you calmed down. And that’s the problem.”

“It grew back on its own.” Verona sighed. “Kal and Cetina said that it might be using your mana or life to do it so we agreed not to do anything more until you woke up.”

“Right.” Anton held the four ends in his hands. He focused his thoughts and coiled them around his fingers. “Damn it. This is going to be a serious problem.”

“It’s hard enough with just me.” Kal gently lowered the cleaned rag to her knees. “Can Tethra’s power remove it? Or at the least hide it?”

Anton didn’t hesitate and chanted a prayer to remove the tail. Mana flowed through him and into his tail. A white light, just like Cetina’s eyepatch once glowed, covered his tail. It flickered once before the light dimmed.

“Did-"

His tail flashed white as dozens of small white sparks darted into the sky, fading after a few seconds.

Verona poked his tail. “Looks like we’ve found something that Tethra’s power can’t fix.”

“By the Gods.” Anton rubbed his forehead. “That Trellos person, thing, walked through me and made all this happen.” Anton sighed again. “Great…I should probably just check and make sure it’s not something that’s going to try and hurt me or you two in my sleep.”

“The ends are pretty sharp.” Verona mused, idly poking the end of the cut off tail.

“Please don’t do that.”

Anton searched through his body. Nothing was out of place, not even along his tail. It wasn’t a foreign object or something grafted onto his body. For better or for worse it was now a part of him. Cutting off the limb, just to have it grow back, lacked any sort of appeal. For now, it appeared harmless.

Better put a prayer on it, just in case.

Anton didn’t know exactly what to say, so he asked Tethra to prevent anything but himself from taking control of the tail. There wasn’t a real way to be sure that it worked. Anton just had to have faith in Tethra that it would work.

“Time to see if it can be hidden.”

Anton chanted aloud the simple prayer. Again the tail glowed white but it failed, white sparks flew in all directions.

Anton grumbled. He flicked his tail once, it wasn’t that hard to control, only strange given his lack of experience. “Doesn’t seem like it’s got any magic immunity like Cetina’s blood. Hopefully, Ferula will know something.”

“That’s still a long way,” Verona said. “Do you want to head back to Atros while-”

Anton raised his hand. “Absolutely not. I can’t do anything good there. Besides, what are you going to do if an army of Goblins finds us?”

“Run away.” Kal smiled. “That’s the smart thing to do.”

“Can you still use normal magic?” Cetina asked.

Anton summoned a small fire and lightning bomb. Both magical constructs floated normally above his hands.

“Seems fine.” Anton withdrew the magic. “I would like to check out the bigger magics but I don’t have much mana left.” Anton slapped his knees. “Kal? I’m going to need your help soon.”

“Yes?” Kal’s ears pricked up.

“Since I can’t hide this thing I need advice.”

Kal smiled warmly. “Let me get some string.”

“Just going to wrap it around your waist?” Verona tossed the cut off limb away. “These spines aren’t exactly soft. I mean, it’ll just leave a lot of marks on your skin.”

“You’re going to have to raise your shirt for this, Anton,” Kal said. “Even I can’t wrap my tail around my stomach without my hands.”

“But you’ve got a very thin stomach.” Anton smiled as removed his upper armour. “So that helps.”

Kal gently rolled her eyes. “Stop trying to flirt with me right now.”

“We should probably check the rest of your body for anything weird.” Verona looked over his naked chest. “Just in case.”

“I know you’re worried about one place in particular but okay.” Anton picked up his cloak and passed it to Cetina. “Could you please hold this up?”

Cetina took the cloak but he caught her eyes looking over his upper body. He had a decent build for this world; during the rest periods he had been exercising with Cetina and Kal, while Verona secretly worked on whatever she was planning with the colourful feathers. Kal sighed and bumped Cetina back to reality. She averted her gaze but kept him within her sight.

Verona checked no one else was looking before running her hands over his chest. “Doesn’t seem to be anything odd here.” She spun him around. “Same with your back too.”

“So where does this tail come out?” Anton turned his head back. “Is it like Kal’s?”

“Yep.” Verona knelt by his rear, running her hand along the spine ridges. “Just like Kal it comes out the base of your spine. It completely clears your butt too. Looks like it won’t be in the way when you have to go into the bushes either.”

“That’s actually some good news.” Anton mentally recoiled at the implications. “It seems pretty flexible too.”

“Yeah.” Verona lifted the tail up, a strange bending sensation travelled up his spine, and ran a finger along the underside. “It’s softer on this side too.”

“What do you mean too?” Anton asked dryly, Kal held the same expression. “There’s only one person that I know that has something like this. Did you feel up Eider’s tail?”

“…No.” Verona looked away before a smile crept up her face. “I wanted to know. And it was. Anyway, we need to check lower.”

Anton unfastened his belt. He glanced back, Cetina averted her gaze somewhat. Verona peered inside and his rear.

“Everything seems normal.” Verona laughed. “Well, actually now that I look at it-”

“Is it covered in scales?” Anton looked down.

“No.” Verona laughed. “Seems like that Trellos gave you another gift.”

Kal looked around his shoulder, her eyes glanced down then back up. “Maybe.”

“So longs as it works, and not covered in scales, its fine,” Anton said.

“We’ll see tonight.” Verona clapped her hands. “You said that the burning covered all your legs, right? Let’s have a look.”

Verona unbuckled his boot. She frowned and grunted trying to remove it. Something was pulling on his foot. His heart began to race as Verona ripped the book off. Despite the dried blood staining his foot he knew something was wrong, not even Verona could hide her surprise. His foot wasn’t human or even anything like a Beast-kin. Three large toes, tipped with a large black and white claw and covered in large black scales trimmed with white, had been pushed together to form the front of his foot. Several large ridges, like a carapace armour, formed where his joints should lie and collected wet and sticky blood.

“I…” Anton sighed and shook his head. “No wonder it was so difficult to get off.” Anton manoeuvred his newfound toes. “I suppose I’m not even phased by this anymore.”

“Boots are going to be an issue for you now as well.” Verona mused. She took Kal’s wet cloth and wiped away the blood. “More advice from Kal?”

“Put some padding underneath your foot.” Kal knelt and held his foot up. “If you have to wear normal boots you’ll need to support this part. Otherwise it’ll be really uncomfortable.”

“I think it will be anyway.” Anton sighed.

Verona raised his pants, these larger scales covered halfway up his shin before they petered out, forming small patches of scales that stopped just below his knees.

“Not much we can do right now.” Verona rinsed the blood out of his boot. “We need to keep moving. But we should get this thing wrapped first.”

“I wonder if the horses will act up,” Verona said nonchalantly as Kal removed the other boot. “They’re pretty sensitive to smells.”

“It smells like Anton.” Kal sniffed at his tail. “I’m annoyed I’m not the only one with a tail now.”

Kal stuffed his book with a small wad of cloth, enough to support his high arch. Given the different size, it was quite difficult to get it back on. Anton thought it was snug. Very snug. Anton refastened his belt as Verona and Kal gently wrapped the tail around his waist. The hard scales felt strange and slightly cool against his skin. As it was nowhere near long enough to form a loop, like Kal’s, they gently tied the four split ends to the base.

“This seems okay.” Anton twisted his waist, the tail didn’t fall loose. “I might want something a bit more secure later.”

“Can’t you just put it down your pants?” Cetina asked. She kept everything in her peripheral vision.

Kal shook her head. “Sitting on your tail is incredibly painful. Extremely painful. And mine’s very thin. Not to mention that it feels like it’s trying to rip it out from my spine.”

“Bad enough when you sit on your foot,” Anton said.

As he fastened his shirt a small white blob ran towards him. Luna lunged at his leg. Her doey deer eyes stared into his as she pawed at his legs with her small hooves.

“At least you don’t think something’s wrong.” Anton held her in his arms. She licked his face and nuzzled into his neck. He lifted his shirt and allowed her to sniff at the tail. She was clearly interested but nothing more. After a few small licks and sniffs, she tried to nuzzle back into his neck.

“You’re awake!” A voice came from inside the building.

Umikgruid and Ceccitol emerged from the sorting building. The deep worry and concern they held faded when they saw him standing.

“Yeah.” Anton smiled. “I’m back.” He raised his shirt. “And it looks like a little more came back with me.”

“Hmm…” Umikgruid stroked his beard as he leant close. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen this before. And I’ve been alive for some time.”

“Me neither,” Ceccitol said. “Can you move it?”

“Sure. But I need to get used to having it like this. I can’t exactly expose it in a human city. They’ll think I’m a Half-Breed Beast-kin.” Anton gently kissed Kal. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Umikgruid laughed. “Whatever you did you definitely shouldn’t do it again.”

“Speaking of…”

Cetina pointed to a large bundle of cloth on top of a cart. “It’s in there.”

“Make sure it stays in there,” Anton said. “I don’t want anyone to go through this. Cetina? I’m going to have you look after it okay? Make sure no one touches it.”

Cetina gave a curt nod. Judging by her expression she would prefer to throw the thing into the mine after setting it on fire.

“Can, can you still use magic?” Ceccitol asked softly.

“I can. But we’ll find out what I can do on the way.”

“So long as you are better.” Ceccitol smiled. “And still capable of helping us.” Verona and Kal glared at the Dark Elf. “I mean-”

“I hope so too.” Anton patted the girl’s shoulders, calming them somewhat. “But I can still use magic. I’m sure that I’ll be fine before we reach The Shadow Isles.” Anton summoned a fireball. “It’s a bit easier already. Give me a couple of days and I’ll be ready to take an entire army.”

“If you’re not there’s always us.” Verona chuckled. “Well, mainly my magic. But still.”

Kal sighed.

“Let’s go,” Anton said. “I think we’re done with this accursed place.”

“Shouldn’t we burn it down?” Verona asked. “Get rid of the Ghlotsm now?”

“Not unless we can destroy all their nests and stop the Goblins from taking this place. And we have to come back if Wilford isn’t there…” Anton sighed. “I’d hate to have to go through Qaiviel without some answers.” A thought flashed through his mind. “Whatever happened to those Orcs? We didn’t go further south than Maxill.”

“Orcs?” Umikgruid and Ceccitol asked simultaneously.

Anton felt his fingers tingle. Did they hate the Orcs like humans hated Beast-kin? “Yes. A lot of them. They were heading south…Do either of you hate the Orcs?”

“I thought they didn’t leave the mountains.” Ceccitol scratched her chin. “At least they haven’t been seen in Bebbezzar in some time.”

“Traders? Orc traders?”

“Apparently they used to be quite common all across the land, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Furs from animals lurking in the cold, miners and noble warriors. Apparently. But that might have been during the time of the United Kingdom.”

“I would have like to have seen that place.” Anton smiled. He squeezed Kal’s shoulder. “Maybe it will come again. And you, Umikgruid?”

“Don’t really know that much about them. They have a large empire to the south of the Frindal Emirate, they’re often at war but it’s never that serious. More of an excuse to keep spending money on their armies. But…Whatever. Both pay well for weapons.”

We need to find the Red Spines. Right now it’s kind of low on the list. Especially with my recent changes…

“Another place I’d like to visit. But we need to keep moving.”

“You…” Verona patted his chest. “You aren’t ready to ride a horse yet. Will, it even let you?”

“It’s not that hard with the saddle,” Anton said. “I won’t be poking it with the spines. I’ll just take it steady.”

Anton stepped forward and felt his legs turn weak. He stumbled before the girls grabbed him.

“You aren’t ready just yet,” Verona said. Cetina held Anton by the armpits again. He felt quite secure in her grasp. “I think it’s best you go in one of the carts for now.”

“I should be fine.”

“No,” Kal spoke sternly. “You’re just going to fall off. And break your neck. And no one can bring you back after that.” Her eyes turned slightly teary. “Not after just getting you back.”

“Okay.” Anton relented. “Let’s get out of this place.”

Anton was helped into the back of the supply cart. There was enough room for him to lie in the back, a pile of soft animal hides were enough to keep him relatively comfortable. As he slinked down into the small bed, the smell of furs all around and Luna nestled in his arms, Kal jumped into the cart. She smiled and sat near his feet, her bow drawn but not knocked. Anton hauled himself up to see Verona and Cetina handling their horses.

“It was all going so well too.” Anton chuckled.

“It was.” Kal smiled. “But what does this mean for…Things at night?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.” Anton smiled at Verona. “But I think this tail should be wrapped up at night. Just in case.”

Kal crawled and held his knee. He felt a surge of water rush underneath his skin.

“I can’t feel anything odd.” Kal nestled herself next to Anton’s shoulder. “It all feels like it’s a part of you.” She nibbled on his ear, glancing at an envious Verona and awkward Cetina. “We’re going to see if everything still works right tonight too.”

Anton returned the nip. Kal squeaked, swatted him away and resumed her watch, though keeping a leg entwined with his. Anton relaxed and sunk into the small pile of furs. In but a few his life had completely changed. What would the people in Atros think? The humans and Beast-kin? What was that strange realm, what were those children and the dolls they held? And who was coming through that portal? He had an idea, but not one that he was willing to share yet, just in case the Old Gods could hear his words. The person coming through the portal looked strikingly like Nithroel. And the white habit next to her…

Was there any truth to his thoughts?

Why were those children playing with those resplendent Goblin and Ghlotsm dolls, depicting them as something more than feral beasts? Were they always feral?

Anton looked up at the clear blue sky as they trundled out of Balefire Mine. He had more questions than answers. Answers he knew he would regret knowing. Anton closed his eyes and found himself drifting off to a pleasant sleep almost instantly.

Maybe we should have just skipped this place? If we just hadn’t found that journal, either of them, everything would have been so much easier…

Chapter 122 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Blood Drenched Snow

Chapter 122:

Ivano's legs trudged through the fresh wet, snow. The fall had been near constant since returning to the mountains and cold plateaus. Not a particularly good omen, not that Ivano believed in such superstition. What everyone agreed upon was an early winter. And a cessation of raiding the lowlands. For that alone Ivano was glad, the Clansmen trudging beside him would have agreed even more so. A broken arrow stuck out from his back. A Bebbezarian arrow. Their archers were very good and had struck him from several hundred feet away. The arrowheads were different too, sharp hooks on the sides to dig into the flesh. Yet despite the obvious pain, he had yet to remove it.

During their retreat from Thessos Bebbezarian forces had relentlessly pursued them with a zeal he had not seen outside of religious fanatics. This was not suicidal revenge, as he had seen so often from the Kingdoms and Empires. These men were trained and properly equipped for the cold and snow. Ivano's fears were coming true. The Clansmen would soon be facing vengeful retaliation in their land, something not seen in hundreds of winters. Their pursuers had only stopped that morning when the snow had started to fall hard. Their forces were too tired to even think of trying to counter-attack.

"Keep your chin up." Arlid cheerfully patted the wounded Clansmen. "We're almost home."

Arvid held the other side, dangerously close to the arrow. "Then you'll be able to tell all the pretty girls about your brave story. Oh, they'll be swooning when they hear that you protected wounded warriors with your very body." Arvid raised his stump for an arm. "It's not like I can say this is fresh."

The wounded man chuckled. Arlid and Arvid spent a considerable portion of the retreat talking with the wounded and disheartened in an attempt to raise their spirits. At the very least stop them from collapsing into the snow. The memories of the retreat from Qaiviel came back, vivid memories of Clansmen deciding to die in the snow rather than face the shame of defeat. But not this time. None had fallen, not even Dyri, Mord's son. Dyri walked near the rear of the column, his face down and utterly despondent. This was meant to be his chance to shine, to show his father and the clan what a man he was. Now he returned humbled by those they thought as inferiors.

"He doesn't look good," Erik said softly. "Looks like he just wants to fall into the snow and let the cold take him away."

Erik remained the same as ever. He hadn't improved after Thessos but he hadn't turned for the worse. Ivano hoped with a little more time he would get better.

Perhaps a woman. That normally works. But the ones with us aren't exactly...willing.

I'm the middle of the retreating column were the slaves, captives taken from Thessos. They wore very little and many suffered from frostbite. Ivano had pleaded to let them go, to reduce the number of hungry mouths and delay the pursuing forces. His words had fallen on deaf ears. The raid hadn't worked out well and what little spoils could actually be taken were guarded jealously.

However, there was one prisoner that Ivano wasn't about to release. Gavriel, the Bebbezarian Merchant Prince, travelled at the front of the captives wearing a thick coat and boots to ward off the cold. The other captives hungered for his clothes but lacked the strength to take them.

"I just hope this whole thing was worth it," Ivano grumbled.

"How could it be?" Erik brushed the snow from his brow. "We had to drop all the gold and silver. And most of the food too."

"Not that." Ivano smiled bitterly. "I'm not concerned about that in the slightest."

What I want is my wife and children back.

Just the mere thought that they were in danger, being used as a threat and motivator, made his blood boil. For a few moments he couldn't feel the snow whipping his face.

If Arnkel's done anything to them he'll regret letting me live.

"Are you okay?" Erik asked.

Ivano forced a smile. "I am fine." He looked at a despondent Dyri. "I'm just a little bit conflicted over what I need to do next."

"Do you think it will work?"

Ivano laughed. "I'm more worried I won't have any time to rest before I have to fight."

---[]---

The ragged column reached the crest of a snow-covered ridge. Finally they could breathe easy. Brenningr lay before them, a beacon of life in the cold white expanse. Though they had passed little hamlets or huts this was the only place for miles that could house more than thirty people. Brenningr was positioned with defence in mind, not that there were many things that could assault them here, at least that's what Ivano thought until very recently. Stone walls rose twenty feet above the snow while diligent workers pushed accumulating snow off. Unlike Rangarvellir there were no gaps or impromptu ramps made from snow. This was a well-maintained city. Several thick plumes of smoke rose into the sky, obscuring the many smaller trails coming from homes. The city was thriving, compared to so many they passed to the Brenningr, but only because they were effective and unrelenting raiders. Normally they wouldn't go through Thessos, they'd simply head over the mountains but those passes had become treacherous of late and the towns and villages on the other side were either poor or heavily fortified. Ivano did not expect Thessos to be such a fortress.

"So much blood spilt just to get onto the walls." Ivano murmured, not caring if anyone heard.

A horn echoed through the empty white wilderness. None of them wore anything camouflaged, it would be difficult not to see them approaching. Ivano was all but certain they had been stalked by clansmen wearing white furs for some time, at least since the Bebbezarians gave up the chase. Though the column lacked any sense of leadership they continued their trudge through the snow with a more determined step. The promise of safety, food and a warm bed would motivate anyone to put in that extra effort.

Large wooden gates, charred black by some ancient and disgruntled fire mage, rumbled open. Clansmen emerged, many riding horses. These weren't the majestic and powerful beasts of the lowlands, capable of smashing through lines of defenders without pause. These short, stout yet powerfully muscled horses ploughed through the snow like it was water. Their long thick hair collected dustings of snow, staining their brown coats white. Ivano had once questioned an elder why they didn't have normal horses. He still didn't understand it but the elder simply asked why animals in the snow had small ears, while those below did not. Something to do with losing heat to the snow. That part Ivano understood well enough.

"Get your weapons ready," Ivano said to Erik, Arlid and Arvid heard too. "We don't know what they're going to do when they hear the news."

"What happened to you?" Arvid asked.

"They beat me for days, screaming all the time, drenched me in cold water." Ivano smiled bitterly. "And they didn't hate me."

Ivano rested a hand on a hidden dagger as the horses approached. The lead rider, someone Ivano didn't recognize, stopped some feet away. Confusion drenched his face as the column of dirty, tired and despondent Clansmen simply continued walking.

"What happened?" He asked after some considerable time had passed.

He spotted Dyri, the riders face paled when he saw the empty look in his eyes.

"Where is he?" The rider roared.

"That must be me." Ivano chuckled. "Over here!"

The rider kicked his horse forward, pushing clansmen into the snow without any regard.

"You..."

"Yes...Me?" Ivano smiled. "Is something wrong?"

Ivano's flippant attitude caught the man off guard. His hand was already gripped tight around the handle of his sword.

"What happened here?"

"We lost." Ivano shrugged. "Seems to be increasingly common of late."

The rider's eye twitched violently. The Fire Blades Clan always held themselves in high regard, to an almost unnatural level.

"Mord-"

"Mord will be pleased to hear that I have brought him the man that has challenged him so much. While his own son could not."

"What are you doing?" Erik whispered into his ear.

"Trust me." Ivano turned to the fuming rider. "Tell Mord that I wish to speak with him about the quality of the warriors he had under his control."

I need to rile them up, so Mord has no choice but to see me, without being struck down the moment we pass those gates. Or right here. It wouldn't be too hard to hide a body in this snow.

The rider looked to Ivano's friends before bidding a hasty retreat.

"And that was?" Arlid asked.

"Whether or not you like it your lives are now connected to mine. If I die I don't think they're going to just let you go."

Erik's demeanour didn't change, Arlid and Arvid appeared slightly less worried, but still not too the level of a normal person.

Have I surrounded myself with death seekers? No wonder I'm acting a little strange.

The riders continued a quick trot in front of the column. They tried to speak to Dyri, even offering him a ride, but he was mostly unresponsive. The riders glared at Ivano.

By the Old Gods, it must be nice to have someone that you can lump all your blame and failings on. Imagine if I wasn't here? You might have to get creative on whom to blame. But never yourselves, obviously.

Clansmen, armed with javelins and bows, stood on top of the stone wall keeping a vigilant watch. While no army had reached this far in an age there were still marauding threats: bandits, packs of wolves, an enraged bear or the Stone Men. Ivano shuddered to remember them, strange walking near corpses covered in stone armour. If he never saw them again it would be too soon.

The people inside Brenningr's walls were happy and cheerful, unlike those in Rangarvellir. That jubilation quickly faded. Their warriors had not returned as heroes and victors but a pathetic band of defeated rabble. No one spoke a word as they eyed each other, one with confusion, and the other with an emptiness that longed to be filled.

"Come to the longhouse." The lead rider said. "We have food, beds and drinks."

If the warriors were grateful they definable didn't show it as they shuffled through the snow. Ivano took but a single step before he was reprimanded by a hateful glare. He smiled in return, unbalancing the rider, and waited for him to speak.

"I suppose we should go see Mord?" Ivano asked. "Explain what happened?"

"Yes...I think that would be best."

The riders stopped Dyri from following the others. He was still damaged from the hit he took from that...Knight. Or whatever that horror was. It certainly wasn't right.

Erik, Arvid and Arlid were brought along with Ivano, confirming his thought that they would share in his punishment. As if that would help in any way.

The city streets deeper into Brenningr were so different from Rangarvellir. Here traders actually traded with happy and smiling women, money and goods flowed freely. This is what Ivano wanted to see, even down to his small village. It was just a shame that the only way they could emulate the lowlanders was to steal and plunder. These people too recognized Dyri, unsurprising given that he was their clan leaders son, but their expression soon faded when they his state. A few glances were spared for Ivano but most were reserved for Dyri. Ivano overheard that this was his chance to prove himself to his father, something he had always dreamed of. And now he returned like this...

The rider dismounted his stout horse before the largest building in Brenningr. He commanded everyone to wait outside in the falling snow, even Dyri.

Does he fear what will happen to him?

Four clansmen guards stood outside underneath the shade of an awning. They opened the door for the rider, revealing a brightly lit room full of laughter and feasting. At the very back, Ivano saw Mord, his great red beard practically glowing against the large fire before him. In one hand he held a giant wooden mug overflowing with beer, the other a young woman wearing exceeding little. She was probably from Bebbezzar, near the border with Seocuria judging by her deeply tanned skin and black hair. Mord leaned in for a kiss, her face spoke only of utter revulsion. Mord snarled and punched her in the guts, hard. Hard enough for her to splutter great wads of spit onto the floor. He threw her down and planted his foot on her back. What she was doing he couldn't see, probably cleaning up the mess she had made with her tongue.

There's being an ass and then there's this. No wonder everyone hates us. I'm sure even the Seocurians do.

A dull groan echoed through the silent air as the door was shut. Ivano saw the faces of the guards, they would much prefer to be inside and away from the cold.

Arlid snuck past his brother and tapped on Ivano's back. "Really though, how bad is it?"

The faint raucous laughter stopped suddenly.

"Pretty bad," Ivano mumbled.

Slowly the guards backed away from the door. Ivano's hand hovered over the handle of his axe. One door opened and the rider flew out, his face bloody and an arm bent to a sickening angle. He careened down the icy stone steps, his jaw cracking loudly with every step until he eventually stopped but a few feet from his terrified horse.

"That bad." Ivano almost smiled. "Hope none of you regret anything you've done over your life."

Mord strode out into the snow, his large muscular framed moved with the confidence of a man that nothing had ever had the strength to stop before. Behind his red eyebrows, he was furious. Ivano could not determine exactly who it was directed at the moment.

It'll soon fall on me though.

"What happened, my boy?" Mord asked angrily as hurried to his son's side. His son looked up at him with empty yet tear-filled eyes. "I gave you some of the best warriors we had and you return broken. With...Him. Still alive."

So you were going to have me killed, probably during the height of the battle. Or just after so you could tell Arnkel that I fell then away from my bodyguards. Not a bad decision.

"How did that happen?"

Dyri averted his eyes. "They were ready for us." He spoke very softly, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Of course they are." Mord slapped his sons head extremely hard. "They always know that we could be coming. Always. But even if they were you lost everyone and came back with nothing. A true Clansmen would never run. So why did you? Why did you think to shame me like this?"

Your son is alive. You should be grateful, and yet you only care about your ego. How does any woman put up with you? Judging by that Bebbezarian woman you force them to.

"I-It wasn't me." Dyri blurted out. "It was him." Dyri pointed at Ivano. "I was unconscious and he-"

Mord's eye twitched as he picked his son off the ground by his collar, Dyri's weak fingers grasping at his father's wrists. "You let yourself get knocked out by a bunch of lowlanders?"

"There was something different in Thessos." Dyri blurted out, barely a hint of recognition flashed over Mord's face. "They had some sort of small Stone Man with them."

"There isn't a type of shit lowly enough to describe what's coming out of your mouth." Mord snarled. "I'll deal with you later."

Dyri winced but didn't speak another word.

"And you." Mord snarled at Ivano. "You've returned a second time a coward."

Rile him up so I challenge him to a Blood Duel. He's already a bit drunk so that makes things a little easier.

"Twice alive too." Ivano smiled. "If it weren't for me your son would be dead. And so would every Clansmen that you sent. I know you don't appear to care for your flesh and blood but I know that many here would. They would prefer to have their husbands and sons alive and by their side, rather than dying in some Bebbezarian prison.”

Like I nearly did.

The muscles on Mord's neck pulsed as angrily as he was. He was but a hairs breath from snapping and charging at Ivano. Annoyingly Ivano wasn't sure if he could win yet. He needed to be angrier, angry people were easy to deal with. Creativity evaporated in the face of rage.

"Not to mention all your subordinate clans that are now pissed at you." Mord raised a red brow. "They were promised riches and glory, not death and dishonour. What sort of leader are you?"

"What?"

"I could lead your clan better." Ivano laughed. "A blind pig would do better."

Mord roared in anger. "I'm going to cut every bit of you apart, you stupid, arrogant little man."

"Oh.” Ivano leant towards Arlid. "I think that's the most complicated word he's used in a long time. Look how proud he is."

Arlid and Arvid chuckled, the way one laughs in the face of imminent death. Mord took a moment before he fully understood what Ivano said.

Mord turned to the guards waiting near the open door. "My axe! Now!"

One nodded furiously before running inside. Those feasting moved so they could watch the spectacle unfold. None looked even remotely concerned as they continued to eat and play.

The guard returned with a giant two-handed axe. The edges of the otherwise unremarkable axe glowed red and emitted tremendous heat.

"I'm going to cleave you in two you little shit. I-"

"Wait!"

Mord barred his teeth, turning around to see a shaman approach. The elderly man had a young boy at his side, an apprentice, to help support him across the icy floor.

"Mord. You know that if you cut down this man in cold blood, a man belonging to another clan, and as you are a chieftain, will be tantamount to a declaration of war. A war that will decimate the Deweth Clans."

"I will not let this man breathe another breath!" Ivano exhaled loudly, allowing the fog to form great plumes around his mouth. "If you keep pushing your shit I might just consider war."

"Even as my chieftain, Mord, I cannot turn a blind eye to this."

But I still need to kill you. Who knows what Arnkel will do to my wife if I don't.

Ivano raised his hand but the Shaman stopped him.

"Unless...Unless you were challenged to a Blood Duel." The Shaman stroked the stringy hairs of his beard. "Then it would be acceptable, so long as Ivano agrees."

Did Arnkel pay you off or do you think I have no chance of winning? Maybe you're involved in the betting I can see going on behind you.

Mord snorted like an angry bull. "If it lets me kill this idiot then I agree."

"You understand what that means?" The Shaman asked. "If you lose-"

"I won't lose! Now shut it you stupid old goat." The Shaman smirked ever so slightly. "Now. Ivano. Agree, and let me wipe your stain from the Clans."

Ivano drew his axe and brushed his other hand against his thigh, four hidden daggers more than capable of puncturing the toughest hide.

"So long as you fight the way you please women then I won't have a problem." Ivano smiled at The Shaman. "That's a yes by the way."

Mord paused as he mulled over his words, Ivano raised a brow and stifled a laugh.

If I'm going down might as well have fun with this.

"I noticed that your son doesn’t look very much like you. Were you unable to satisfy your wife so badly that she had to take comfort in the arms of a gangly troll or perhaps a cripple?" Ivano really wasn't thinking too hard on his insults and just let them fly with reckless abandon. "That's why you had to punch that slave. Your hands don't seem to know how to handle a woman properly. Just what I'd expect from a little impotent man like you."

What am I even saying anymore?

Mord roared again, raising the axe above his head and charged straight at Ivano. Those around him ran for cover, even the riders backed away, while Ivano stood still.

The axe is heavy and will kill me instantly, but he won't be able to hit me. I just hope I've got the strength.

Ivano waited until Mord began to swing down before he darted to his right. The axe slammed into the ground, the red edges slipped through the stone and just missed Ivano’s feet. Mord smiled like it was a close call but he was nothing compared to the bizarre Bebbezarian Knight. At least when they fought him it was four against one.

Ivano drew a dagger and plunged the thin, narrow into Mord's shoulder joint. Mord smirked, thinking that such a small blade could not hurt him, but Ivano wasn't a small man. Ivano held the handle with one hand before slamming his other hand onto his first, using all his strength to drive the slim blade deep. Furs ripped, metal clanked and scraped as it tore deep into his joints. Ivano felt something tear, something that spelt the end of a warrior.

Mord screamed and kicked Ivano away. He was ready for it and travelled with the kick, giving him so breathing room without injury.

Mord ripped the blade free. A bad decision, it was a special Bebbezarian blade taken from one of their pursuers. The blade had small notches that dug into flesh and ripped through the remnants of his tendons. Mord inflicted more damage to himself than Ivano had.

"This isn't a real fight!" Mord tried to raise his left hand but couldn't, his face paling in equal amounts fear and anger. "This is not how two men fight." Mord looked to his riders. "Kill him."

"No!" The Shaman barked. "To interfere now would only bring vile curses upon you and your family for taking such a cowardly action."

The riders hesitated at the Shaman's words, serving only to infuriate Mord.

"If you don't want me to kill you and your family you'll stop being stupid and kill him! Now!"

Ivano let out a short, sharp whistle. "We're not done yet, Mord."

Ivano brandished his smaller axe and advanced on Mord. Mord immediately forgoed the use of his large axe, his left arm was still useless, and took an axe from behind his back. Ivano, having both hands, had the advantage but Mord wasn't about to go down without a fight. Mord charged at Ivano, for a moment Ivano wondered if he knew any other move, while Ivano took another dagger and held it flat against his wrist. He pretended to be ready to receive Mord's strike but bent his legs ready to dash forward. Mord began to swing down, spittle-drenched teeth barred in anger. Ivano dropped his axe and lunged forward, driving the small blade into his heart.

Mord fell to the ground as Ivano pushed him over, his axe clattering away to Dyri’s feet. Somehow the man was still alive, not that there was much left in him. Ivano unceremoniously drove his axe deeply into Mord's head. The man fell limp as he breathed his final ragged breath.

What a waste.

Ivano looked to the Shaman.

"Let everyone know that the Gods have spoken. Ivano of the-"

"No!” A shriek came from the building. A woman, the same red hair as Mord, ran out, her eyes streaming with tears. “What have you done?!"

Ivano stepped aside. She ran to Mord’s still body reached for the axe embedded in his skull. There was simply no way he could have possibly survived that.

"You killed him." She's whispered. "Thank the gods."

Ivano raised a brow as the woman stood up and kicked the axe handle upward, twisting and splitting the skull further.

"Thank you." The woman smiled warmly at Ivano. "Thank you. That man was a pig. He would sleep with dozens of women but not his wife. Can you believe that?"

Ivano didn't reply. She wasn't ugly but nor did she have the build that interested Ivano. He didn't want a twig that would break the first time they tumbled.

"But now that I'm chieftain things are going to change. Firstly-"

"Wait." The Shaman raised his hand as he gently walked down the icy steps. "Wait, please...There we go. Your husband agreed to a Blood Duel."

"So?"

"That means that everything belongs to the winner." the Shaman smiled. "Including his role as chieftain of the Fire Blades Clan."

"So..." The woman looked to the clansmen. "So what happens to me?"

The Shaman stroked his beard. "Normally you would belong to the victor, as is tradition."

She scowled at Ivano. If there was to be any consolation he felt the same way about her. He already had one wife. That was more than enough.

"But I believe that Ivano would not take that offer. That makes you a free woman, free to do as you please. But, Asfrid, you are not Chieftain. Nor is your son. "

Dyri stared at the axe at his feet. Ivano knew Erik kept an eye on him but an extra pair wouldn't hurt. The boy didn’t budge but Ivano knew it was only a matter of time before his mind started moving again.

“What?” Asfrid screeched. “After everything we’ve been through-”

“I’m sorry, Asfrid. But those are the consequences of your husband agreeing to the Blood Duel. And as it was witnessed by me no one can defy the will of the gods.”

“So now I’m Chieftain?” Ivano asked the Shaman. “I can do what I want?”

The Shaman stroked his wry beard. “Within reason, yes.”

Asfrid approached him, taking deliberate effort to sway her thin hips and flutter her eyelashes. Ivano’s wife had taught him not to be fooled by such obvious attempts at affection. She despaired at how many men still fell for a woman with a few sweet words.

“If you are going to be the new Chieftain you’ll need a person that knows the land and the people. Someone like me.”

She reached out, her fingers dancing lightly for his chest but Ivano stepped back. He had no interest.

“Forgive me, but I am already married.” Ivano watched Asfrid’s face fall. “And I have no interest in a mistress or concubine."

Asfrid stopped in the snow, slowly the small flakes built on her hair, as she stared at the ground. Now she looked truly lost, his wife had taught him to know what someone was being genuine or not.

“I cannot have you living in this city any longer, for my safety as well as yours.”

“My safety?”

“Yes. If we come to blows you will lose. And I won’t hesitate to kill someone that threatens me.” Asfrid’s face remained calm despite his threat. Ivano turned to the Shaman. “What sort of wealth did Mord have?”

“A considerable hoard of gold.” The Shaman smiled. “I’m sure that no one would begrudged some of it entering the hands of his widow.”

Ivano nodded and turned to the guards. “You work for me now, understood?”

“Yes, Chieftain.” The guards, even the riders, snapped to attention.

It’s so stupid that you would follow me after what I’ve done. So stupid.

“Allow Asfrid to take whatever gold she can carry,” Ivano ordered. “Put that into a cart and set off for a prosperous town near the Seocurian border. Once she and her son have a house you are to return immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, Chieftain.” The guards raced inside, stepping over the rider still resting on the steps. Another rider, a much younger man, crouched over him.

“T-Thank you.” Asfrid bowed her head. “I will not forget this.”

“I suggest that you put your money into something where it will grow.” Ivano waved her into the longhouse. “One where you don’t kill and plunder the lowlands. I think a fishery would be a good idea. You could make a good amount of coin with that. I’m sure that you could live a very comfortable life.”

Asfrid said nothing and followed the guards. Arlid gently kicked the axe away from Dyri’s feet.

“Kid.” Arlid wrapped his arm around Dyri’s shoulder. “You’ll get through this. You need to keep your head up and look after your mother. That’s what you need to do from now on. Right?”

Dyri glumly nodded. His father, a person he hoped to impress, lay dead in the snow. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of his split skull even, when his mother kicked it open.

“I…” Dyri began to fall limp, Arlid supported him until he regained his feet. “I can’t…”

“Let’s sit you down somewhere.” Arlid waved over his brother. They took him to the longhouse and rested him against the wall.

Ivano approached the young man crouched over the rider. Instantly he knew that he was dead. The young man didn’t seem to know. Ivano crouched next to him, he was completely stupefied and gently rocked the body, trying to turn him over. Before Ivano could speak Asfrid exited the still silent longhouse with the guards behind carrying a large chest. It wasn’t exactly what he said but Ivano was going to let it slide. Asfrid took her son into her arms, he didn’t resist her touch even though she essentially attacked his dead father, and pulled him down the stone stairs.

“Thank you, Ivano.” Asfrid bowed her head. “We won’t forget this.”

And that’s the problem…

Ivano nodded as the guards directed them away from the Longhouse and into the snow. “Get them a good cart, one that doesn’t rattle or bounce. They shouldn’t have to walk through this snow.”

“Understood, Chieftain.”

Ivano knelt beside the dead rider, the younger man was slowly starting to realise that he was gone.

“I’m sorry.” Ivano patted his shoulder. “I don’t think he’s with us anymore.”

The young man looked at him, his eyes red and tear-filled. “My brother…Who’s going to look after his wife and children? They’re so young, she can’t work enough to feed them all. She can’t fight or raid…”

Ivano heard the rattling of a large cart. It wasn’t ornate or something befitting a widow of a chieftain but it would have to do. The guards and riders assisted them onto the cart and passed out an extra set of blankets.

“Asfrid’s the wife of Mord, the person that killed your brother,” Ivano spoke softly, holding the young man’s shoulder tight. “And his son, Dyri. There’s a chance they could come back and rule over Brenningr again. Do you think that Dyri, after witnessing the death of his father, is just going to run and hide? He’ll come back when you and your brother's children are becoming adults. And then…”

Ivano nodded to the broken body.

“What are you saying?”

“They have a chest filled with gold.” Ivano patted his shoulder. “Gold that your families, and those going with them, could really use. Judging from your cheeks you aren’t exactly well fed, despite all the wealth in the city. The journey will be long and harsh…”

Ivano tapped the axe at his side. The young man understood. His face hardened as he gripped his small axe tight.

“I understand.”

“But make sure the others understand.” Ivano patted his shoulder as he stood up. “They’ll receive an equal share. But if someone were to stumble upon the bodies…”

“There’s a lake to the south about a days’ walk.” The young man took a final glance. “I think we’ll head that way.”

"Good man." Ivano patted his shoulder again and leant close to his ear. "But I'll want proof that it's been done. Think of something that proves they are gone."

Ivano gently pushed the man forward to join the small escort. Asfrid gave a curt nod to Ivano as the cart began to rumble away. Ivano forced himself to no betray any of his emotions. He wouldn’t risk something happening to his kids because of his actions this day.

“Anything we need to know?” Arlid asked Ivano.

“No.” Ivano looked at the Shaman. “Time to clean up a few things. Someone take those bodies and ensure they receive their proper rites and funeral pyre.”

Ivano sighed and stepped towards the longhouse. The guards gave him a slight bow and opened the door.

“I want everyone out,” Ivano said to the guards. “Now.”

The guards nodded and began to remove Mord’s former patrons. Looks of scorn and hate, others with jubilation and excitement, passed him by as they were thrown out into the cold. Ivano watched them wade their way through the ankle-deep snow and back to their homes.

“Everyone is gone.” A guard said. “Except for the slave. What do you want done with her?”

The Bebbezarian slave remained huddled over near Mord’s chair. She had followed Mord’s wishes, the entire area around her feet was clean with a faint sheen of wetness. Ivano grumbled at the sight.

“Erik? Go look after her.”

Erik raced up the steps and into the longhouse. He gingerly stepped around the large fire and the many plates bursting with food and approached the woman. She recoiled and raised her hands to shield herself but quickly looked up. She breathed easy seeing upon realising it wasn’t Mord. They were too far away for Ivano to hear but he knew they were talking.

She probably needs a comforting face right now. And I don’t think Arlid and Arvid are the right choice, even though they might get a smile from her.

“So what now?” Arvid wrapped his arm around Ivano’s shoulder. “Who would have thought, when you took us from freezing to death on the streets of Rangarvellir, that you would have become Chieftain of one of the most powerful clans there is.” Arvid snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

“I actually was a chieftain,” Ivano grumbled. “But they took it away since I lost.”

“Bahh.” Arlid wrapped his arm around Ivano’s other shoulder. “And now you’re back at the top. And not some honorary position too that they’re going to take away the moment you were back.”

I would have preferred someone more qualified to be a ruler than whoever can hit the hardest and kill the previous ruler. It keeps the ruler physically strong but that’s it. No real intelligence, just muscle. No wonder the lowlanders are now winning.

As Ivano entered the room he felt the refreshing warmth wash over him, eliciting memories of the hot spring that he used to frequent back home. He gingerly stepped around the haphazardly tossed and abandoned plates of food, stopping and staring into the fire.

"Arlid. Send a message to Arnkel. Tell him that I have ownership of the Fire Blades Clan. And make sure that he knows I want my wife and children in my arms again."

"Is that even going to be possible?" Arlid asked. "You did just kill their chieftain. If anything I thought you might want to scoff down some food before they come back here, axes and spears raised amongst a sea of angry torches."

"And burn us all alive." Arvid grimly noted.

"That won't be a problem." The Shaman, no longer supported by the young boy apprentice, staggered into the longhouse. "I have already sent my apprentice to tell the others what transpired before the eyes of the Gods. And how you emerged triumphant, while Mord had clearly lost all favour with the gods. Attempting to strike down a man in cold blood, in his position, is a truly shameful act."

"I see."

"But, do not be worried." The Shaman smiled a toothy grin. "I'm sure that Arnkel will be pleased to hear you not only survived but succeeded."

Ivano forced himself to keep his face flat.

Now it makes sense. Arnkel's paid you off, somehow. You were awfully quick to try and have us fight under a Blood Duel. I wonder if you made sure Mord drunk his full of beer before the fight. Just to give me that extra edge.

"Since it looks like I'll be here a while I really should know your name."

"Kollskegg. And my apprentice is Aki."

"Stay close, Kollskegg. I might need you when the people come knocking on my door."

Kollskegg smiled faintly and moved to a chair near the fire that was high enough that he could simply slide down and stand. Evidently, he was as old as he looked.

"Arlid. See what you can do. And Arvid. Bring Gavriel here. I want to speak with him. Before the other captives tear him apart."

"What's going to happen to them anyway?" Arvid asked, his good arm resting on the door while his brother ducked out into the cold to speak with the guards.

"See what you can do to make their lives comfortable," Ivano ordered. "They aren't to be left in the snow or mistreated in any way. I would have preferred them to back in the hands of our pursuers but no such luck. As it stands I'll have them returned in the spring. Not even we want to be moving during the height of winter."

"The omens say that this will be a particularly harsh winter." Kollskegg raised his feet towards the flame. "If we aren't prepared we won't survive. Well, we will. But there are a number of small villages and hamlets that will suffer."

"Hmm." Ivano nonchalantly walked to Mord's seat and threw his backside upon it. Immediately he regretted his decision. Not only was he tired but the chair itself was unbelievably uncomfortable. How Mord could have been a great warrior and rest his rear on this seat Ivano had no idea.

"That's why I want Gavriel. He knows a lot more about this than I do."

Kollskegg frowned as Ivano took several fur rugs and placed them over the chair. "Is that a wise decision? He is your enemy. And you destroyed his city after all."

"I didn't. It was Dyri and Mord, not that we have to worry about them now. Besides, I intend to release him as well during the early spring. Maybe we can put an end to this conflict."

Kollskegg said nothing, his eyes tried to discern if Ivano was lying. Eventually, he shrugged and returned his attention to the flame.

It definitely will be tricky to convince Clansmen that have spent their whole lives raiding and pillaging that there is another way. A way where we survive on our own merits, and not some extension of the lowlander kingdoms. Or simply destroyed in a few winters.

Ivano leant back into his chair, now actually comfortable, and allowed his tired muscles to rest.

To think all this happened because I wanted to become a Chieftain. If I hadn't though...I'd probably be lying down dead in Qaiviel, burned to a crisp. Still, my path is set for now. For now, I must recover my strength so that I can hold my wife and children tight when I see them next.

Ivano’s brows furrowed in anger.

Arnkel had better kept his hands off them. I’ve already killed one Chieftain. Another one won’t hurt.

Chapter 123 - Vol 4 - Jaka

Chapter 123:

Anton’s horse trundled along the stony path, nestled between the mountain range protecting Jaka from the outside world. The greenery of the Kar Kingdom disappeared, replaced by tough hardy shrubbery and short trees capable of surviving in the harsh mountainous terrain. A faint smell of salt carried through the air, invigorating his lungs.

Anton exhaled loudly. "It feels good to be back by the sea again. Fresh air, the wind in our faces-"

"And Goblins." Verona attempted a smile. "Those bloody things will be there. I'm sure of it."

Anton gripped his reins tight with his left hand and raised his right. A small steady fireball grew above it. After the incident in Balefire Mine Anton had been very careful using his magic. While he had been perfectly fine using his magic his dreams were certainly not unaffected by the change. Though it was only for a few seconds each night he found himself back in the White Realm. He always stood in the small ring of trees, the black lightning rolling over the sky. Before he could but a few steps he always found himself awake and gasping for air. Verona and Kal usually slept through it so it clearly wasn’t a writhing fit. Something good out of this whole situation. Nevertheless it worried him greatly. A nagging feeling told him the time he spent in the White Realm was growing. Apart from that everything was going fine. His feet still hurt but Kal was helping.

Anton gently nodded. "I think we'll be fine. Just so long as the whole place isn't teeming with them."

"Or the purple fog," Kal said. "We don't have enough magic between us to make everyone immune."

"True." Anton sighed lightly. "There's not much else we can do to do except to hope."

"That Wilford had better have arrived," Verona added. She ran a hand through her hair, tossing it away. "If he's run off with your ship and money I'm going to be more than a little pissed."

Anton laughed, leaning over to give her a kiss. Verona looked more than a little worried as he leant over, though that faded when their lips touched. Unfortunately kissing was about the limit of their physical interactions now. Considering their complete lack of knowledge of his transformation he didn’t want anything to happen to them. He could deal with pent up urges for now, hopefully Ferula would be able to explain more. Hopefully.

"I'm just glad you're better." Verona gave a quick peck before allowing Anton to right himself. "I think some of the Dark Elves were starting to worry they had come all this way for nothing."

Anton noticed it too. They had kept it well hidden, for the most part, but it had faded as he demonstrated he could still use magic with ease. That was the most important aspect for them. Which produced mixed feelings for Anton; they weren’t judging him different but didn’t care beyond that. When their homeland was threatened with annihilation it was certainly the right choice.

"How much further?" Umikgruid, residing in the cart behind, shouted at Anton.

"Not much further now." Anton nodded to the Dark Elves, still taking the lead and scanning for hostiles. "Should just be around that bend."

Then again things always look different when you come the other way.

"Good." Umikgruid laughed. "My backside's being mashed soft from all these rocks."

The Dwarf wasn't wrong. The journey had been quite rough the first time but their horses had some choice where to land their hooves. The carts less so. The carts bounced and jostled violently, every Dwarf held onto the edges for safety.

"But soon we'll be on a ship and back to sailing the seas." Gosthilda gently nudged her husband. "Then it'll feel like the good old times."

"I don't think you'll be doing that much," Anton said. "We have a human crew for this, though I don't know what they'll say about Dwarves and Dark Elves."

Both Dwarves grunted and returned to their seats.

"Speaking of, Kal. You might want to get your mask ready."

"Right." Kal sighed, turning to watch her tail flying free in the air. "And it felt so good to have my tail free."

"And your ears." Anton gave his last scratch of the day. "I'm going to miss playing with them too."

Kal laughed as she wrapped a cloth around her head, hiding her ears, then lifting up her shirt enough to coil her tail around her slim stomach. She moved with a deft and quick hand but it was enough for Anton to catch a glimpse of that toned stomach he knew so well. Kal saw him looking and smiled devilishly. She lifted it up slightly more, just to tease him, before fastening down everything again.

It's not like I don't know what it's like.

"Such a shame." Verona sighed. "Still, Wilford and his crew can't know we're travelling with a half breed Beastkin."

A Beastkin worth a fortune.

Verona pointed to his waist. “And they can’t know about that. That doesn’t look like any Beast-kin that I saw in Danafra.”

Anton nodded. “I would like to stretch it out every now and again. Darn thing gets stiff and sore. Now I know how Kal feels.”

“You get used to it.” Kal laughed. “It is nice to set it free though.”

A Dark Elf whistled loudly, bringing the rattling convoy to a halt. He motioned to dismount and move forward on foot. They landed gently on the loose stones and gently pulled their horses and carts along. Jaka lay before them, in better condition that Anton had expected. Goblins now inhabited the abandoned town; buildings torn apart for wood, others demolished to make way for shanty huts and hovels. Small fires smouldered before the stone obelisk with hundreds of Goblins mulling about aimlessly. There were more than just Greens and Yellows, Anton spied some Black Goblins closest to the fires. There were also a few Oranges near the centre, thankfully no Purples. Or Awakened.

"They were lucky that we arrived when we did." Anton mused. "I think Atros, even now, would have trouble with this many."

Verona and Kal nodded seriously. Cetina said nothing, simply looking over them thanks to her height. Anton sometimes forgot that she was taller than him.

"We count at least four hundred in the city. Double that beyond."

The Dark Elf pointed to the purple crystalline rupture in the otherwise formless grey mountains. The purple fog had not crept any further, much to Anton's relief, but Goblins moved through the haze. The land between Jaka and the fissure teemed with Goblins. Far more than he wanted to take on right now.

Anton turned his attention to the bay. The jetty remained untouched, though everything the Seocurian refugees had left behind had been ransacked and tossed into the sea. A single ship rested near the mouth of the bay, gently rocking back and forth with the waves.

Anton chuckled. "And I was actually starting to panic."

Cetina nodded. "For someone like Wilford, if there's money to be made he'll be there. Especially since it's more than he could hope to make if he’s dealing honestly."

"Yes...I hope he's been paying back what he owes." Anton rubbed his chin. “I just hope he wasn't smuggling something like children."

The girls shuddered at the mere thought.

Two Dark Elves approached from behind. Ceccitol and Tuccac had their bows drawn and nocked, ready to fight.

"Doesn't look too good out there," Ceccitol grumbled.

"No, it's doesn’t." Anton pointed to The Snowberry. "But that's our ship. Now we just need to let them know we are here. And get to the dock before we're overwhelmed."

Verona drew her blade. "Some blood, if I could. If I can get enough from the Goblins then I can just throw up a wall of shards and they won't be able to get through."

"I'll make a giant lightning bomb and detonate it above Jaka." Anton held out his hand for Verona. "We could hear the Seocurians screaming that far away. Wilford will know that we are here."

"I don't think he's going to try and dock with that many Goblins on the jetty," Cetina said. Her words rung true. Dozens walked along it, seemingly unaware of the giant ship waiting in the harbour.

"Might have to leave those up to you guys." Anton mounted his horse. "Don't want to try my lightning and fire on that, just in case. Or with this thing."

"We're not sneaking in?" Ceccitol asked.

"When I let off the lightning bomb they're all going to know we’re here. Better to not get swamped on the jetty."

"Right..."

"Not to mention how noisy the carts are. And we can't exactly leave them here."

"You'd better not," Umikgruid grumbled loudly from his cart.

Ceccitol smiled. "We're ready whenever you are."

---[]---

Their convoy slowly skirted the Jaka’s perimeter. Anton was annoyed they even had to enter the city at all. A portal would have been easier, but if Wilford had one they needn't go this far. The Goblins on the perimeter, predominantly Greens, those that could be easily kowtowed into submission by a higher rank, wandered about aimlessly, looking and nibbling on grass merely to pass the time. Finally one looked to the south, curious as to what was making so much noise. It let out a single screech before an arrow silenced it forever. Unfortunately, the nearby Goblins could not be slain quickly enough, the screech echoed throughout the ruined city.

"Good shot," Anton told Ceccitol. "Shame he was able to screech something off."

Ceccitol clicked her tongue. "I need to get my aim back."

She and the other Dark Elves released their next volley. Nearly every arrow found a target; the Goblins outside and those coming to investigate. Each fell instantly, barely able to elicit a cry before falling.

Something ran up Anton’s spine. Rather it ran around his waist before jolting up to his brain. He lifted his shirt, his tail looked normal but the faint sense still lingered along its length. Another breath passed and it faded away completely. After a quick check of his body, and finding nothing amiss, he pushed forward.

"Time for the signal."

Anton raised his hand and found himself hesitating. A part of him worried if he could actually use magic that big after the incident. But now there was nothing else for it. Gingerly, he created a large lightning bomb and threw it towards Jaka. The lightning arced away from the central sphere but most importantly he still had perfect control over it. As it neared his maximum range, and the draw in mana became too large he released it. The sphered exploded in a showering blast of light and noise.

Anton turned his attention to The Snowberry as the stunned Goblins became easy prey for the Dark Elves arrows. The sails dropped almost immediately and lurched towards the jetty. The jolts racing along his tail were incredibly faint, surging along his body with every Goblin killed.

Anton ignored the sensation. "Hug the coastal side of Jaka to the jetty. I'll give them something to worry about."

He summoned one fireball after the next, throwing them into Jaka at random. Though they were small, only able to kill a few Goblins at the most, they ignited the wooden shacks and buildings. Soon flames rose from.

Verona, without her blood power activated, turned to Anton.

"Don't worry. We can rebuild it better than it was. Besides, I don't think Loretta or Ndale would like to sleep in this place after what the Goblins have done to it."

"I just wondered if there might be anything left they might want." The blood coiled and solidified above Verona’s. "That's all. But if it'll kill those Goblins I'm sure they won't mind."

The drivers led their carts around Jaka as the fires spread. The unfolding calamity distracted the Goblins, leaving only the few outside to deal with. The few wanderers, far more concerned with the fire, were simply cut down without any regard.

They're able to do this, just forty of them. How bad could it possibly be in The Shadow Isles? Can we even win it?

The Goblins on the jetty noticed their approach. They wielded crude spears weapons, some with actual fish, but wore virtually nothing for armour. The outcome was predictable.

"It's still a long way off." Umikgruid raised a hand to his bushy brow. "And I don't think those little buggers are happy about what you just did to their homes."

Anton turned his horse to the burning Jaka. "We'll hold them off here. Dismount off the carts and leave them here. Last time the plank was only just wide enough for our horses. The Ix might have some trouble but we'll manage."

"Shame to lose all this good work." Umikgruid slapped the small ladder as he stepped onto the jetty, followed by the other Dwarves. They held their weapons tight. Hopefully, they wouldn't need to this time.

While Jaka burned the Goblins towards the crystal fissure were not so affected. Some peeled off in a desperate attempt to quell the flames. The others began to walk along the jetty, their crude stone tipped spears and clubs ready to attack. Several Black Goblins, wearing scrap metal armour, probably all the metal the Seocurians of Jaka had left behind, remained on the land and directed the Greens and Yellows to attack. The little deformed creatures screeched and ran down the rickety wood jetty, some so eager they slipped and fell into the water.

"Everyone is to fire at will," Anton ordered. "We’ll buy more arrows."

The Dwarves moved to the front, granting the Dark Elves protection while allowing them to fire over their heads. Cetina drew her sword as well, but there was little she could do on such a narrow pathway on horseback.

Anton nor Verona had to do much other than watch on in silence. The hailstorm or arrows and bolts shredded the hides of the small goblins, finding vital organs with every hit. The dead began to pile up as new Goblins simply stood over their dead colleagues to attack, only to be struck down and add to the growing red pile. The four ends of Anton’s began to tingle, from the tip up the entire length. He raised his shirt for a peek. The spines glowed faintly. It didn’t feel bad or good, it just simply was. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t control the feeling building in his tail. It slipped through his fingers, unable to be formed into a shape. Perhaps Principle Magic could help, if only he knew how it functioned.

"Kal?” Anton began. “Do you think you could hit one of those Black Goblins? It'll take some of the wind out of their attack."

"That's a pretty small target to hit," Ceccitol said. "Not that I doubt you can fire that far."

Kal chuckled. "Anton's not the only one with some interesting magic."

Kal drew a lightning arrow. The swirling purple and blue lights were brighter than normal. The moment after striking its target a torrent of lightning bolts arced in all direction, slaying anything it touched. The assault instantly lost its intensity, the Green and Yellows no longer dominated and forced into the attack. Now they could question if this was actually a good idea.

"Show off," Verona muttered, a faint smirk on her lips.

"I wanted to show you them once we had left Balefire." Kal turned to face him. "But we had bigger things to worry about then."

Ceccitol laughed. "How many do you have?"

"That was the only one," Kal replied. "And it took a decent amount of my mana to make."

"If only we could have hundreds of those." Ceccitol grimaced. "We wouldn't have needed to come all this way."

"Then my clan would be better off too." Umikgruid chuckled. "Don't have to put up with your pointy-eared nonsense."

"One of my wives has pointy ears," Anton said flatly.

Umikgruid frowned but Anton simply nodded at Kal. Realization washed over his face, he raised his hand to apologize but Anton cut him off.

"It's fine. I'm just playing with you. And I would think that if you were trying to insult my wife you'd be a little more discreet."

Umikgruid chuckled nervously, receiving a slap on the backside from Gosthilda, and turned his attention forward. The attack was floundering. None were willing to attempt another charge. While the Goblins were not the most intelligent of creatures they still valued their own lives when not being directly controlled. Suddenly, something changed. The very way they carried themselves changed. Each stood more upright, more proud, and almost regarded themselves with some modicum of respect. Like the Goblin Dolls from the White Realm. Anton looked at everyone, only receiving looks of confusion in return.

Something moved out from the burning wreckage of Jaka, something Anton had only seen once before and that time could have been considered a source of minor trauma. A single Goblin, skin as red as blood, confidently walked toward where the Black Goblins had fallen. Behind him stood four Orange Goblins. When they last met an Orange they were a slathering ball of muscle, hooked teeth and anger. These were far more composed. Calm even.

The Red Goblin glanced at the dead Black Goblins. Its face was the least deformed of the Goblins so far. It turned to the Orange Goblins, they in turned looked at him with almost reverence.

“Shu’tki.”Its voice crackled and screeched. “Tyu li Qua.”

“Kal. Another arrow.” Anton said. “Make it a guided one.”

“Right.”

The Red Goblin waved his arm dismissively towards them, the Orange’s barely spared another look before charging down the jetty. Thankfully the pile of corpses remained, slowly sliding underneath its own weight and lubricated by free-flowing blood to splash into the sea. Green and Yellows followed behind the Oranges with renewed vigour. The Red watched on with a smirk on its twisted face as it turned to the crystal chasm. A small but steady stream poured out from the purple wound in the mountain. It would take some time for those to reach them but every Goblin between Jaka and the chasm were now streaming towards them.

“How little regard they have for each other,” Anton mumbled.

Kal fired her bow, a single arrow soared over the masses of Goblins towards the Red Goblin. Its eyes flicked up before the arrow found its mark, punching through its skull and sending it crashing into the ground. Kal cheered lightly as the Red spasmed once and fell still. The surge up Anton’s tail was greater than before and took considerably longer to dissipate. Anton forced his face calm.

“That was a little easier than I thought.” Verona chuckled.

Anton felt so too, but something was off. When the Black Goblins died the others lost their will to fight. These Goblins still charged with reckless abandon. The Oranges’, though far stronger than the others, still fell when peppered with arrows and bolts. Verona summed the blood shards and threw at those that ventured too close. The Snowberry was still some distance away, but the Goblins were not gaining any ground.

“How long do you think you can keep that up?” Anton asked, once again pushing away the prickling sensation.

“For a while.” Verona laughed. “I’m not having to work that hard yet.”

A Yellow Goblin sneaked past the hailstorm of arrows and bolts, Verona flicked her finger and a shard caught in the side, sending it careening over the edge and into the water.

“But these little bastards are fast, I’ll give them that.”

“Let us know if it’s getting tiring.”

Verona nodded and refocused her attention. The minutes dragged on, the Goblin attack unrelenting until The Snowberry was within easy sight. Now the sailors were clearly visible, so too was their fear and apprehension. Anton waved, one hesitantly returned, as the sailors readied a large wooden plank. One pointed to the Ix and a second plank emerged.

“At least they’re ready,” Anton said, Kal and Cetina looked at him then to the ship.

“Back on the boat.” Cetina chuckled and smiled nervously. “Along the cost of Bebbezzar it can get pretty rough. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my food down.”

And Kal has better senses than everyone here. We always have Tethra’s power to smooth things over.

“Is this everyone?!” A shout came from the ship. Wilford leant over the prow, waving maniacally. “I don’t want to be staying here for long.”

“It is!” Anton yelled back. “But we’re leaving the carts here!”

“Hold on. We won’t be much longer.”

Verona and the archers kept the Goblins at bay until The Snowberry reached the very end of the jetty. Sailors threw the wooden planks down, hastily fastened by the Dark Elves and begged for everyone to quickly board. Anton had no intention of staying any longer than necessary. The Ix didn’t understand what was happening and nonchalantly sauntered onto the ship, their heads idly swinging from side to side. Dwarves and Dark Elves followed, leaving only Anton and the girls on the jetty. Verona waved them back as she held the blood shards at her maximum range. When she finally stepped onto the deck the sailors raced around her, wary of her red glowing form, and retracted the planks.

“Is that everyone?” Wilford pushed his way through the crowd, not caring who or what they were. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I didn’t even like waiting in the bay with all those things waiting on the shoreline.”

“It is.” Anton moved to the prow. “Take us out of the bay the moment you can.”

Wilford whistled. As The Snowberry began to pull away the sailors visibly relaxed. Verona stood near Anton while keeping her blood shards along the jetty. The Goblins could now reach the end of the jetty, though it was too far to simply jump. It didn’t stop them from trying. Every small humanoid splashed into the sea and struggled to stay afloat.

“Don’t worry about them.” Anton waved down the Dark Elves readying their bows. “Save your arrows. They’re no longer a threat.”

A Dark Elf fired a single arrow, felling a Goblin and sending it to the depths. She shrugged but frowned when she found her quiver empty.

Anton remained cautious until they were completely out of range. The Goblins finally gave up and slunk back to the smouldering ruins. Anton wondered if they would remember it, perhaps, but the Red Goblin was dead. When they met Ferula they would need to talk about the different varieties out there, as well as the Ghlotsm among other things. Their knowledge was mainly based on Kal’s decade of observations and Cetina’s passing hearsay. While still useful it left far too many holes. Doubly so considering Balefire Mine.

"Are we safe now?" Cetina asked.

Anton saw only a few Black Goblins watching them, the rest had returned to Jaka or were still coming down from the crystal fissure.

Anton smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. "They can't swim, can they?"

"I've never heard of it." Kal fidgeted with her mask. "If they could I think they would have taken over The Shadow Isles long before Ceccitol and the Dark Elves could reach Atros."

"Let's be thankful they can't build boats," Anton mumbled.

"What was with that red one?" Verona asked, looking to them for an answer. "It actually said something. Not just Grekka, or whatever it was."

"The Dark Elves didn’t even know about the Black Goblins." Anton shrugged. “Just another question for Ferula.”

Wilford waited patiently a few meters away, now able to take in who he was really taking.

"Thank you for actually turning up," Anton said. "I'm sure it mustn't have been the easiest wait."

Wilford shook his head. "No. It wasn't. We could hear them screeching and doing who knows what every night. Kept thinking they'd swim out here during the night and that would be the end of it. So...Where are you heading with all these...people?"

"Eventually The Shadow Isles." Anton began. "But right now we need to head to Koumore."

"That's...not a port city. There is one nearby, less than a day's walk if I remember correctly."

"Make that our first destination. I trust that you have been keeping my ship out of illicit activity?"

Wilford nodded seriously, any joviality vanishing from his face. "After what we had to go through, waiting for someone to attack us, being an honest trader has its advantages."

"Not being hunted is one." Verona sniggered. "Right?"

"So long as you and your crew are fine and actually making money." Anton felt one of the small hidden pouches. "We'll deal with payments later. But for now, I need to get everyone housed. Will there be enough rooms for everyone?"

"They will have to bunk in the lower decks. But it won't be as crowded as last time. Your cabins are still unoccupied."

"That will have to do." Anton clapped his hands. "Let's get everyone settled then."

---[]---

A short time later everyone had settled in as best they could. Neither the Dwarves nor Dark Elves thought the vessel was magnificent, but she was seaworthy and that's what mattered most. After two weeks of being forced together continuing that cosiness on a ship wasn’t a problem.

"I wonder if they've moved anything," Anton said. "The bed wasn't the comfiest but with all the furs that Kal and the Dark Elves collected I think it could be really good."

"I might want some of those." Cetina smiled faintly. "Mine wasn't that great either."

"Let's see..." Verona gently pushed the door open.

The room looked identical, even down to the folds left on the sheets.

"Maybe they thought we were cursed?" Anton chuckled. "So they didn't disturb our rooms lest they bring some calamity down upon them."

"What about my room?" Cetina sighed. "Nope. Someone's been in mine."

Kal leant around Cetina's shoulder. "At least they changed the sheets."

"They didn't leave a mess did they?" Anton asked. Luna, nestled in his arms, sneezed loudly.

"No. Just looks like someone might have spilt some wine on the floor."

"I hope that’s wine." Verona chuckled. "Could be blood."

Kal patted Cetina's back. "It’s purple. It'll be fine."

"Yeah." Cetina smiled at Kal. "We've got a few days before we reach the port, so I'm going to have a rest."

"Good idea," Anton said. "There's not much to do until then. I think we're going to do the same."

"...Sure. That’s what you’re going to do." Cetina blinked twice. "Sorry. I'll see you all for dinner then, right?"

"Yep." Verona carried her packs into their room. "Just don't go heavy on the drinking."

"I..."

"You really overdid it in Atros." Anton smiled. "Normally don't have to direct your drunk bodyguard back to bed but..."

Cetina smiled but couldn't hide her embarrassment. "I...Won't be doing that for a long time. Not after how I felt. But I do intend to do my job properly, at least for once in my life." She forced a smile. "I'll see you all for dinner."

Cetina hauled her packs inside and closed the door. Kal pulled on his shirt, while he couldn't see her face he knew she was slightly distressed.

"She’ll have to eat with us then. Not without giving away what I am."

"We'll work something out." Anton touched her head, he was disappointed that he couldn't rub her head without the possibility of the mask coming loose. "Come on. Let's not wait out here all day."

The moment the door clicked closed Kal ripped her mask and cloth off, freeing her lightly sweaty face and ears to the world.

"This annoys me so damn much." Kal vigorously scratched the fur around her ears. "My fur gets knotted and twisted in weird ways."

Kal unbound the string binding her tail in a coil, a seductive sigh escaped her lips as it sprung loose. It always amazed that she was able to control something longer than she was tall with such dexterity and finesse. Doubly so considering the muscles near the base of her tail were quite small. He would have found them by now.

"So..." Kal gently sat on the bed, her tail coiling behind her. "What are we going to do now?"

"If it's up to me I'd very much like to push you both down. If it was safe."

Verona chuckled, taking Luna from his arms. "I know. But...There is something I want to show you. You both, actually."

Verona used several thick pieces of cloth to form a rough bed for Luna. She took a few turns before collapsing and almost instantly falling asleep.

"I'd like to know how she does that," Anton said. "Just fall asleep, even though that's what she's been doing pretty much all this time."

"A growing girl needs her strength." Verona gently scratched Luna's head. The Peryton nuzzled deeper and her breathing began to calm.

“Before you do that, Verona, I’d like to get this free first. It’s starting to feel quite stiff. I appreciate how Kal feels now.”

“Who’d ever think that our husband would grow a tail?” Verona laughed before raising his arms. “I don’t think anyone has.”

Anton nodded as Kal’s deft fingers unbound the string. “No one has probably touched one of those little rocks before. Especially if it’s something those Strega Witches were searching for.”

“Do you think they know about it? It was out of its container for a few moments.” Kal’s clawed fingers scratched the small spines at the end causing Anton to jump. “Sorry. I know it’s sensitive.”

Anton patted Kal’s shoulder. “I don’t…I don’t think so. They could teleport far easier than we can. They might actually be waiting for us in Koumore. If they can watch us, like Ferula can.”

“That’s really creepy.” Verona shuddered. “Do you think they’re watching us when we have sex?”

Anton breathed easy as the tail came free. Verona and Kal ran their hands along its length, staring intently at the scales and spines. Anton wanted to protest but he often played with Kal’s tail almost identically. The girls muttered something as they reached the end.

“The end scales are glowing.” Kal’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Anton turned, the tail remained in their hands and directed one of the four small ends into his hand. Kal laughed at the sight.

“Every time one of the Goblins died I felt something flow through this.” Anton sighed. “Not a jolt of pleasure.” Anton held Verona’s hand. “Not like what you said happens with the blood. Just a jolt. Of something that’s still there. And when that red one died I felt it quite a bit.”

“And what does it do?” Verona held an end close to her eye.

“No idea. For a moment I thought I might be able to use their white magic but I couldn’t…Hmm. Maybe they draw their magic from that world instead of the Old Gods. Or Ancient Gods. Whatever that place is called. The Awakened could use magic even wrapped in a suit of Ghlyirl.”

“It hasn’t done anything bad yet.” Verona shrugged lightly. “Hasn’t moved on its own. Not that we’ve really had much time to ourselves. For now, I think it’s fine. But we definitely need to keep an eye on it. Keep it bound up when we go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Anton let the ends go and vigorously rubbed his cheeks. “What the hell are we going to tell everyone when we get back? Everyone’s been very kind to me so far, way too kind really, but they were at least there when it happened.”

Verona looked at his belt and nodded, holding her chin. “If you ever had to take off your shirt outside they’d see. Or if you had to remove your boots.”

“The Beast-kin might not be too worried.” Kal offered. “Since you’re rescuing them from slavery. But for the humans…”

“And Dark Elves and Dwarves too.” Verona sighed. “They might not be so accepting of it.”

Anton tapped his boot, something very strange now. “The Awakened. That’s what we’ll say. Everyone from Atros, when I arrived, will remember the Awakened Goblin throwing that white magic at the gate. We’ll just say that I got hit by that and this happened.”

“They might wonder why you didn’t turn into partly a puss riddle Goblin.” Verona stuck out her tongue.

“That should be enough.” Anton shrugged. “Everyone already hates the Goblins.”

Anton sat down on the rough bed. He didn’t have much time to learn how to control this new limb. Instead of holding it he directed it out of the way and into his lap. Kal followed while Verona remained standing.

“It feels softer than Eider’s scales. Now…" Verona's fingers fidgeted in a rare display of nervousness. "With that out of the way, you've probably noticed that I've been doing something at night...for the past little while."

"Yes."

"Well, you remember how we were talking about making Atros more... colourful?" Verona unbuckled the pack.

"I do. Right after leaving Atros you brought it up."

Verona moved to block their view. "I was speaking with Ceccitol and a few of the Dark Elf women. They caught a few of those Rainbow birds for me. We didn't kill them, just held them down while we plucked some of their feathers. A lot of their feathers."

"I'm sure they enjoyed that." Anton smiled.

"Oh, absolutely." Verona removed something from the pack. "Had to hold their beaks shut so they didn't bring every creature within a hundred miles on us. But we got a lot. And...With a little help, I made this."

Verona held a small feathered cloak in her hands, large enough to wrap itself comfortably around his neck and reach below his shoulders. Small red feathers, barely two inches long, lined the neck followed by orange, yellow, green, blue and finally purple with an incomplete layer of red beneath that.

"It...Um...Took me a while." Verona gingerly passed it over. "I had no idea how to sew, Ceccitol showed me how. Apparently being a mother of some rowdy children taught her."

Anton and Kal held the feather cloth very gently. A thin cloth acted at the base and anchor for the sewn feathers.

"Every. Every feather has been sown in individually." Anton smiled. "You've fastened it on the little teeth at the end." Anton gave a feather a light tug. "And that's not coming loose anytime soon."

"That was the hardest bit." Verona scratched her cheek. "I had to practice a lot to get it right."

"This is incredible, Verona." Anton patted the feather cloth. "Really. It's incredible."

Verona flushed vividly. "T-Thanks. I wanted to show you two now before I went further to see if you like it."

"Come here."

Verona approached, expecting a reward of some kind. He pulled her close so she rode his leg, ensuring her work wouldn't be damaged and gently kissed her. She held his shoulder while he snaked an arm around her waist.

"This is incredible." Kal had removed her gloves and poked at the feathers. "Almost identical spacing, very little gap between each feather and the layers are the same distance from the centre." Kal pouted. "Looks like I'm going to have to get better. Who knew the groping girl could do this."

Verona laughed, playfully swatting Kal's leg. "You're being too kind. But, thank you."

"Could you make us one?" Anton asked.

"This...” Verona held the feathers with her free hand. “This is yours. I don't think it's a good idea to wear something like this outside of Atros...But, you'd wear it? You wouldn't think it's weird?"

"Not at all." Anton kissed her cheek. "I'll wear it, when it's finished of course. We all will." Kal smiled warmly and nodded. "Maybe even Atros soldiers and guards could have something like this incorporated into their armour. It might become the fashion of Atros, so to speak. All thanks to my little Verona."

"Especially if the Beast-kin's saviour wears it," Kal added snidely.

Anton pulled Kal close. They said nothing for a time, simply enjoying each other's warmth.

"Since." Verona patted his back. "Since we have a few days free I was thinking that I'd keep working on these. Now that I know what I'm doing it shouldn't take as long."

"And the bag is filled entirely feathers?" Anton asked.

"That...And a few of my first attempts. They're really not good, which is why I didn't want you to see them. I would have died from embarrassment."

"Thank you, Verona." Anton kissed her again. "I'd love to see the final piece. Do you think it'll work with our armour?"

"Um. Should do. Might have to think of a way to attach it so it doesn't fly off when you run or something." Verona scratched her cheek. "Fighting at night or needing to be sneaky might make this a bit of a liability. But-"

Anton raised a finger to her lips. "It's wonderful, Verona. I don’t know about you two but I’d actually like to get some shuteye right about now. See if this feeling fades over time.”

“While you do that Kal and I can keep working on the feathers.”

“You want my help?” Kal flexed her claws.

“Of course. It’s taken all that time just to make this one. And I’d like to have one done before we get back to Atros.”

They kissed his cheek and shuffled off the bed, crowding around the small bag of feathers. Anton lay on his side and closed his eyes. Just as sleep overcame him the rumbling of distant thunder echoed through his head.

Chapter 124 - Vol 4 - The Basilisk Swamp

Chapter 124:

“Koumore doesn’t look like a witch’s haven.” Anton said aloud, leaning over his horse. “Just like another Graterious town.”

The map indicated this modest town, surrounded by a sturdy wooden wall, though in disrepair in some sections, was indeed Koumore. The city they were supposed to meet Ferula. The ride had been very short from the port, Wilford and the others were still loading more supplies and taking a needed break on solid, dry land.

“But…She didn’t tell us where we were supposed to meet her in Koumore.”

“Don’t think she meant for us to just hang around,” Verona said. “Doesn’t strike me as that kind of person.”

“What does she strike you as?”

Verona rubbed her chin. “Now that I think about it I really don’t know. But…I get the feeling that she’s not just going to come to us this time. Maybe she wants us to show some initiative. I know someone…”

“We stopped to make camp last time,” Cetina said, pulling back lightly on her reins. “The Dark Elves aren’t going to be happy to hear we’ve stopped to make a campfire.”

“That’s pretty easy with Anton here.” Verona chuckled.

“Looks like there’s a toll at the gate.” Kal held her hand above the brow on her mask. “Do we have any copper or silver? I think they’re going to ask why we’ve got only gold.”

“And gold with the markings of a dead Kingdom.” Anton mused. “No one’s complained yet, but someone’s taken notice I’m sure.”

“Seocuria?” Kal’s voice trembled slightly.

“Certainly hope not.” Anton held her hand. “And if they have we’ll just to resort to freeing the Beast-kin the old-fashioned way. Which I’m sure will be a lot more fun for them, compared to thinking they’re going to yet another hellish plantation or workshop.”

They continued trotting down the road, re-joining a small but constant stream of people travelling to and from the small port. It was nowhere near as big as Rusaddir, being the last port before reaching the desolate mountain walls of the Kar Kingdom, but it still thrived with trade and activity. If they weren’t in a rush they’d probably stay for the night. Not when so much rested upon them. A few travellers spared them glances, mainly towards Kal’s mask, but continued with their journey. While it was annoying that Kal had to cover herself it was far better than leaving her on The Snowberry all on her own. Luna’s presence would have caused too much of a distraction, especially when negotiating with a potential Strega Witch. Once nestled in a bundle of cloth she refused to rise again and dozed comfortably.

The guards, wearing armour that settled in quality between the bright, heavy armour of Porswea and the motley scavenged attire of Soulthor, were not actually collecting tolls. They kept their eyes on the merchants and peddlers travelling through the open gates but did little else. A few looked them over but they considered them not worthy of their time. Regardless it suited Anton just fine. Once inside it was clear Koumore was a simple yet thriving market town. Goods from the countryside and the surrounding woods were on open display, the smell of cooking meat filled the air, and caused one of their number to become temporarily distracted.

“I don’t think we can just ask anyone if they know someone called Ferula,” Anton said, taking hold of Verona’s reins. “Or if that’s even her real name. But…Someone must know something. Maybe we should just ask the stall owners again?”

“Only after Verona’s bought enough food for eight people.” Kal chuckled.

“Oh, yes please!” Verona pumped a fist into the air. “It all smells so good! After spending all that time on that boat with preserved food, this is making my mouth drool.”

Verona…wasn’t exaggerating.

“Oh! I recognise that plaque.” Cetina pointed excitedly to a modest building near the centre of town. Upon a large tower a large wooden emblem had been raised, the emblem of the Graterious Mercenary Guild.

“Does everyone still have their metal…cards? Tablets?”

“Yep.” Verona patted a small pack by her leg.

They hurriedly moved through the busy market streets, Anton had to promise Verona they would stop later and get some food, before arriving at the guild. Several well-armed people waited near the few horses tied outside. Each kept a keen eye on anyone that approached, their hands hovered over their blades and loaded crossbows rested against the building.

“Good thing they take security seriously.” Anton dismounted with a light thud. “I don’t see anyone hanging from the walls this time.”

“Probably somewhere else,” Verona said softly.

“I’ll wait here.” Cetina roughly tied their horses’ reins to the wooden poles. “Just in case…”

She looked to the guild guards. They didn’t show any visible sign of being offended, though something like that would be easy to mask given enough practice.

“Alright. We shouldn’t be too long.”

She gave a small wave as they entered the Guild building. It was much smaller than the one in Porswea, and more cheaply furnished. Perhaps it was more appropriately furnished for their conditions. Many tables and chairs littered the room, a giant board to the right with papers pinned to it and a reception on the far wall. A standardised approach, with intention to breed familiarity. Forty people lounged inside, drinking copious amounts of beer and stuffing their faces with steaming hot food. Most were men but a remarkable few were women. None were given any extra treatment, they argued and laughed with the men as equals. Anton was a little concerned to see a large group of mercenaries in the corner. What concerned him wasn’t their equipment or demeanour but their age. They could have barely been sixteen, all eight, yet they held their dirty and rusty weapons close, armour that had been scavenged and reassembled, a meagre meal lay between them as they eyed off everyone nervously.

“I wonder what happened to them,” Anton asked softly.

“Look like orphans,” Kal whispered back. They didn’t stop, lest they think they were being watched. Their eyes weren’t crazed. Yet. “Probably banded together for protection. And so they don’t have to sell their bodies to eat.”

“Does that happen often?” Verona asked.

Kal nodded. “Sometimes. But it’s not like a brothel. If they get lured by someone bad…”

Anton knew what fate awaited them. They waited patiently in the short queue until it was their turn.

“Hello.” The polite assistant, a young woman, smiled warmly as they approached. She wore the same uniform and presented the same neat and orderly impression as those in Porswea. It was truly run like a professional business, unlike the Red Company. “How may I be of assistance?”

Anton produced his guild tablet, as did Verona and Kal. “We’d actually like some help, if it’s not too much to ask.”

“Certainly.” A business smile grew on her face. “If you have a contract that has been completed we can process that here…I see that you are registered in Porswea. Is there a particular reason you have come so far south?”

“Well, we’ve been on a bit of an adventure. But we need to find someone that supposedly lives here. And since you are the local mercenary guild we thought you would be the best place to start.”

The woman smiled apologetically. “We know of many people, but Koumore isn’t exactly a village. Many people live in small hunting camps and hamlets surrounding the city, only coming to the city to sell their wares. But we’ll help however we can. Who was it you were looking for?”

“A woman by the name of Ferula-”

The receptionist’s face fell. “If…If you think that you can collect the bounty on her I’m afraid that you are gravely mistaken.”

“I don’t understand-”

“I’m telling you this for your own safety.” The receptionist spoke calmly and flatly. “You will die if you try and fight her.”

“We honestly aren’t trying to kill her,” Anton said. “Nor do we have any desire too. But…We need to know where she is.”

She looked between them before sighing. “Another group just came through thinking they would collect the bounty themselves. About thirty this morning…You’ll be able to find this information anywhere so long as you ask, so I’m not doing you any favours by not telling you. Head westwards until you see a giant stone with green markings. Then head south into the swamp. I have no idea where she is in there…Not that you’ll find her first.”

“Any particular reason why she’s wanted?” Verona asked. “She seemed friendly enough.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow. “If you’ve actually met her then there is a chance you will survive.”

“So what did she do?” Anton asked.

“Something to do with the Emperor. I think it currently stands at thirty thousand gold coins.”

Anton coughed. “That’s…Insane. And yet no one has claimed it?”

“Not yet.” The receptionist glumly looked to her hands. “But she doesn’t bother us, so we leave her alone.”

“I’m sure the Emperor loves to know that.” Verona tilted her head.

The receptionist shrugged. “I wouldn’t know that. But the reward increases every winter.”

"Thank you for the information," Anton said. "We'll be on our way now."

"I'd advise you not to go there." The receptionist rubbed her cheeks. "No one comes back from the heart of the Basilisk Swamp."

How fitting, if she actually is a witch. We need to be careful. They worked over Duran and the other Bebbezarians pretty easily.

Anton bowed his head and turned to leave. He caught the eyes of one of the orphan children. He, in his heart, wanted to know more but there simply wasn't the time. It was quite possible they could run into trouble before they even left the building. When Anton stepped outside his heart and bated breath relaxed. Cetina chatted with the guild guards about something, by what fragments Anton picked up it was about the local weapons.

"Cetina." Anton whistled loudly. "Time to go."

Cetina quickly waved to the guards and unfastened the ropes as fast as she could.

"Something wrong?" Cetina whispered. "You all seem kind of flustered."

"We'll explain on the way. But we have our destination. At least I hope."

Anton mounted his horse on the second jump. Kal snapped her head to the guild as Cetina helped Verona up.

"I can't hear anyone," Kal said.

The guards were listening but made no attempt to stop them, not yet at least. With Cetina mounted they turned their horses westward and left without looking back.

Anton didn't stop until they were well clear of Koumore. The western road was all but devoid of people, only a few carts overflowing with timber and hunted game passed by. Anton continued to glance back but no one followed. He didn't know if he expected something to happen or if he had just been spooked. With Koumore now just a large blip in the distance he peeled off the road heading through a light forest to a small patch of grass where they could gather their thoughts.

"What was that all about?" Cetina asked, bringing her horse close to Anton's.

Anton folded his arms. “Seems that Ferula has quite the price on her head for something she did or didn't do, for the Emperor. It's a hundred times what Kal's is."

"Currently." Kal said.

"We have a silver mine now." Verona chuckled. "Not like we have to worry about money now."

"At least until Atros is a major player," Anton said. "Then we'll burn through money like a fish needs water. But...I can see the marker up ahead."

A dense forest lay at the end of the road, swallowing the thin dirt track in its dark embrace. At the limit of the forest Anton saw the marker stone, exactly as the receptionist had described.

"Before...Before we go any further there is something that I want to do. And I'll need your help with this Kal."

Kal tilted her head quizzically.

"I got these at the port." Anton searched through a pack, producing four very simple string necklaces with a seashell on the bottom.

"Aw." Verona smiled. "Thank you. You got a little present for all of us?"

"Not exactly." Anton smiled. "But I haven't forgotten and I'll get you both a good present, especially you Verona."

"Haven’t exactly been able to get my nightly present of late." Verona laughed, a wicked and a seductive grin grew on her face. She nodded to his feet. “Not with all that happening.”

Cetina’s face reddened slightly.

"But I believe that it's a good time to enchant these to protect us against Strega magic."

"Why?" The redness on Cetina's face drained instantly, her hand hovering over her blade.

"Because I think there is a chance that Ferula is one."

Cetina snarled, catching Anton off guard. "You're bringing us to a coven of those fucking..."

Cetina held back the flurry of words attempting to burst out of her throat. Her neck muscles budged in suppressed anger.

"I don't think so, Cetina," Anton spoke as calmly as he could. "We met Ferula before we met you, and Eluria and Sancha." Cetina's teeth ground at their very mention. "She offered her help to us then, but she wanted us to hurry towards freeing the Beast-kin. And it was a good thing that we did. Otherwise, a whole lot of our new friends would be dead or too far gone. Marion, Kristof and Rasha would be broken and Eider dead."

Kal gently nodded.

"And, don't forget, that she said that we were safe from the Strega Witches so long as we stayed out of each other's way."

"But-"

Anton raised his hand, Cetina stopped but did not look happy. “I understand that if she's a Strega Witch then her words are potentially poisoned-"

"Potentially?"

"Yes. All groups have factions. So what Eluria and Sancha did might not have been sanctioned by the majority."

Cetina breathed slowly as she looked at the ground.

"She knew where we were the second time.” Verona piped in. “So she probably knows that we're coming now. She even knew that Kal was a Beastkin even with the mask on."

Cetina bared her teeth. "I don't like this at all, Anton. But I won't let you there by yourselves."

"Which is why I want to make these wards, of a sort, to keep their magic away."

Cetina did not look convinced.

Anton and Kal quickly prepared the wards as best they knew how. It took some mana, less for Kal, but they were protected to some degree. Without speaking a word Cetina angrily snatched her necklace and secured it underneath her armour.

"Anton. I'm probably going to be in a foul mood for a while." Cetina looked away. "I don't know what I'll do if I see that magic again."

"If something happens I'll be sure to stop you," Anton said.

Cetina took another deep breath and relaxed. Verona turned to Kal and winked, not that Anton was supposed to see that. Kal chuckled faintly and shook her head as they began trotting towards the stone.

In the otherwise normal forest, the green marker stone stood out like a sore thumb. What concerned Anton the most was its resemblance to the markers surrounding The Ancient Listeners. Anton decided to keep that information from Cetina. Her anger had mostly dissipated but her posture spoke that she was ready for a fight.

Just beyond the marker stone a small trail led south and deeper into the forest. Compared to the wide, flat main road this was more akin to a goat track. It weaved around slight elevations and never followed a straight line.

"How is there supposed to be a swamp in a place like this?" Anton asked aloud. "This forest is dry. Even the trees are wrong. Where are the marshes and mosquitoes? Frogs and chirping insects?"

"Maybe it's just a name." Verona offered. "Like the Accursed Forest. There's nothing cursed about that place. It even has a wonderful pure lake." She snapped her fingers. "That's what we need to get the Dwarves to do. Make that actual Bathhouse for everyone, you and Kal make the hot stones, or warm stones, and a private one for us."

"That doesn't sound that bad. Did you get a bath before we left, Cetina?"

Cetina kept her eyes peeled into the forests' shadows, watching for anything that could strike. "No. I never did."

"You'll definitely want one then." Verona chuckled. "You have no idea what hot water running over your body feels like."

"Stop," Kal whispered. She pointed to a soft muddy patch in the trail. "Someone's been here before us. Looks very recent too."

"Probably those people who wanted all that gold." Verona sighed. "If they’ve succeeded we might not get those magic books and tomes for a while."

"I hope she's alright." Anton felt daggers emanating from Cetina.

Over the next several minutes of slow and careful travel the forest began to shift and change before their eyes. Tall mighty trees grew shorter, their branches willowy. Small puddles of algae and slime began to emerge. Soon the forest disappeared completely leaving them in a swampy bog. The rugged path veered through the marshes and small puddles unabated.

"Even the sky is different." Verona mused.

Green-tinged clouds replaced the once open and blue clear skies. Behind was cloudy too, even the direction where they entered the forest.

"Another spell," Anton said. "But is the swamp really in the middle of the forest or have we slipped into some sort of pocket world?"

"I think it's the second," Kal said, scanning the willowy trees and insects that incessantly buzzed around them. "These things can't survive the snowy winters of Graterious."

Anton’s heart lodged in his throat looked beyond the murky puddles, a giant shadow moved through the trees and bogs. A shadowy creature, a Jaguar stalked them through the swamp. But this was big. Really big. Probably even taller than Rasha with all four feet on the ground. The shadow slinked through the boggy and muddy terrain effortlessly all while keeping them squarely in the focus of its bright yellow feline eyes.

"Do you see that?" Anton asked softly.

"W-Oh shit." Verona squeaked. "That's really big."

"There's one on the other side too," Kal said.

The second shadow jaguar stalked them on the other side. This was all but identical to the first, perhaps a tiny bit shorter.

"I don't know if we can take them," Anton spoke softly. "But they aren't hostile. Yet." He looked back, Cetina’s drawn sword didn’t agitate their stalkers. "I don't know how much good that will do against them, Cetina."

"I feel safer with this," Cetina mumbled.

"Can you see where this path leads?" Anton asked Kal.

"No. It just seems to go on forever."

"I've got a set of teleportation stones if things get bad."

Ten minutes passed in a nervous silence. The Shadow Jaguars continued to stalk them, maintaining a perfect distance no matter the winding path. The Shadow Jaguars glanced forward, to the end of the swampy path. Anton was expecting Ferula's home to be nothing more than a small rickety hut emanating a single trail of smoke, an open door with Ferula beckoning them to enter and taste her brew. Instead a small hamlet lay in the middle of the swamp. Anton counted ten modest buildings on stilts constructed haphazardly over a raised plateau. Thin yet dense trails of dark green smoke rose into the sky from each building, all but invisible a few moments ago. It only drove home the idea they had stumbled upon a different world, of a sort.

Wooden stakes, driven deep into the muddy marsh, surrounded the hamlet. Though crudely made it worked well, judging by the few impaled creatures dotting the perimeter. A gap remained along the pathway but two giant stone pillars either side made him even more nervous. Two Shadow Jaguars perched themselves on top of the stone pillar, black misty claws dug hard against the stone as they silently eyed their approach.

Anton noticed a change in the soil ten meters before the entrance. His horse's hoof breached the differentiation and the Shadow Jaguars snarled and began to advance. Flakes of stone burst from the two Jaguar’s claws effortlessly tore through the stone. Anton quickly pulled the reins back hard, his horse protested but backed away. Once they were clear the Shadow Jaguars returned to their positions and waited in perfect silence.

"Now what?" Verona asked.

Anton raised his hand. Noises came from the small swamp hamlet: laughter, the clanking of metal, splashing of walking through mud and water. Someone very young moved behind the spike wall. A young girl emerged, barely in her teens, dressed in simple clothing designed for life in the swamp. Instead of cloth, she wore thick hides, so mud and stagnant water would simply run off. Underneath something akin to a small witch’s hat a pair of curious green eyes studied them from behind a dirt-stained face.

"Oh. Hello." The young girl smiled and waved, her hide gloves were stained in some strange yellow fluid. "You must be four that Auntie Ferula was talking about. We were starting to think you weren’t coming. There were some uninvited guests before, but...They had to leave."

Anton caught her eye flicker to a particularly large bog. What he once thought a broken tree branch was an arm, covered and stained in slime and mud. Small insects and tiny crabs were drawn to it, tunnelling their way underneath the metal armour to feast on the delicious flesh.

"I see..." Anton resolved himself to play the part. "Doesn't look like they wanted to be nice."

The little girl puffed her cheeks. "They were really mean and angry, they even threatened Auntie Ferula and my brothers and sisters. But Jub and Cub took care of those nasty people."

"And are they..." Anton pointed to the two stone pillars.

"Those are Cliffy and Pouncy. Those are Jub and Cub."

"Are they going to attack us if we come any closer?" Verona asked.

The girls’ eyes widened. "Oh. I...I don't know. I'll find someone who can tell you." She turned to run but waved them down with her little arms. It would have been cute, if not for the four silent creatures staring them down. "Just. Just don't come any closer. I'll be right back."

The girl ran into the swamp hamlet towards the closest building. Using both hands she propelled herself up the stairs, her tongue jutting out the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sure this will all make sense eventually," Anton said softly. Cetina raised a brow but said nothing.

A seeming eternity passed before the little girl returned, running down the stairs with reckless abandon, followed by a middle-aged man. He wore the same clothing as she did, perhaps of slightly better quality.

The man gently waved. "My apologies for the delay. Ferula said we were expecting four guests but I did not think it would be so soon after our engagement with thirty Bounty Hunters. Please, come in.”

The man and little girl turned away, the girl skipping happily sending up small splashes of mud into the air. The girls looked at Anton. He shrugged and gingerly moved his horse forward. As the first hoof stepped over the differentiation the Shadow Jaguars remained perfectly still. The creatures eyed them closely, unblinkingly yellow glowing eyes followed their every move.

“Imagine if we had these for Atros,” Verona whispered. “No Goblin would dare get close.”

“I think it might freak everyone out to see them perched next to the gates,” Anton replied. “Let’s see if Ferula can explain how to get some ourselves. Maybe even just some Shadow Wolves would do.”

“No skeleton ones.” Verona frowned, her voice adamant. “That’s not something I want to see you playing with.”

Anton nodded. While he had a passing interest in necromancy, especially after witnessing the speed and guessing the strength of the Skeleton Wolves, it was just passing fancy. Besides, necromancy meant resurrecting what was once living. He would have to kill the creatures first. It would be better to just summon something with magic and replace as needed.

Faces peered out from the stilt huts. They wore the same garb as the two, some old while others young. The hut’s interiors were lined with dried herbs, dead animals and other strange items. He wondered what they could make. Could they do things that even the Old Gods couldn’t? Throughout the hamlet he saw small open huts and shacks with incomplete rituals and creations, some bubbling away underneath a watchful eye while others glowed faintly with blue and green hues. His curiosity would have to wait.

They were led to a building at the rear of the swamp hamlet, four wooden poles had been recently hammered into the ground with small bowls of water placed at their base.

“Please tie your horses here.” The man said softly. “It is unwise for them to leave the hamlet, even for a moment. There are many creatures out there that would enjoy such a large meal.”

“Like those Shadow Jaguars?” Anton asked as he stepped down.

He laughed gently, the little girl tilting her head and furrowed her brow.

“They do have a resemblance to Jaguars, don’t they. But they do not require food, in the normal sense, not like the actual jaguars lurking in the swamp. Did you see any on your way?”

“Nope. Just those big ones.”

“Hmm…They must have been scared off by the Bounty Hunters. Ferula will be able to explain more if you so wish to inquire.” He waved his hand towards the building. “She is waiting for you inside.”

“Thanks.” Anton saw that Cetina didn’t want to leave their horses alone. “Come on, Cetina. It’ll be fine.”

At least I hope so. I’ll check them over once we’re out of the swamp.

Cetina reluctantly followed, her sword was still drawn but neither of the residents appeared to mind. Verona and Kal kept their weapons close and ready while Verona checked the small pot for its precious red liquid. The steps creaked and groaned with each step. Anton checked the necklace, it too still seemed intact and functioning. He brushed aside a thin ragged cloth, designed to keep insects out, and stepped inside. This hut was far more open than the others even still decorated with strange ingredients and items. A large table sat in the middle, five chairs with one occupied. An elderly woman sat at the table, slightly hunched over with whitened eyes. A bony, wrinkly hand reached out for a clay cup. She slowly drunk the liquid, savouring the taste and fragrance before focusing her attention upon them.

“Hello again.” Ferula chuckled, more cackled, waving to the four seats. “I’m sure that I saw that is was this morning that you should have arrived…” She looked at the ceiling, not a single beam of light shone through. “I suppose it still is. But it appeared some uninvited guests tried to ruin our meeting. And after all the effort I’ve gone through to get what I promised…Oh, please. Have a seat.”

Anton held out the chairs for all three, Verona and Kal thanked him while Cetina was still too frazzled to properly thank him. Only when she moved the chair forward did she understand what he had done. Ferula smiled as Anton took his own seat.

“Oh, to be young again.” Ferula chuckled before taking another sip of her tea. “Those were good days. Oh. Kal, was it?" Ferula looked to Anton for confirmation. "You can remove your mask if you wish. Your race does not concern me in the slightest."

Kal glanced at Anton, a hand rested on his leg. He could tell that she really wanted to. When he gave the nod her hands almost ripped her mask free along with the cloth wrappings. Her ears sprung free, tiny droplets of sweat sprang off. Her fur was quite damp and had clumped together, just like after a shower.

"You have no idea how hot it was wearing that thing." Kal wiped the sweat away with the edge of her cloak. "The swamp was the worst I've ever had it. Worse than Seocuria."

"She truly is a pretty half breed." Ferula sipped her drink.

"She is." Anton held Kal's warm and eager hand, that too freed from the confines of her gloves. "Just one of the many reasons that I decided to marry them."

Kal and Verona said nothing but he knew they were happy, they always loved to be complimented, even if they didn't always show it.

"You have a fine loyal gathering." Ferula swirled her cup. "I can tell just by looking at them, the way they look at you. Brings me back to my younger days. When I was young I had six men that hung off my every word." Ferula smiled at some long distant memory. "And me. Those were some good times."

"Six?" Verona leant forward, a devilish smile on her face. "I think you can do better than that right now if you really tried."

Before Anton could respond Ferula clapped her bony hands.

"But while you and I can compare tallies of those we shared a bed with, that's not why you've come all this way." Ferula bowed her head low. "While I know you have more pressing matters, saving the lives of the Dark Elves and Dwarves, but...Thank you for making this trip."

"It sounded like the people of Koumore didn't want us to find you, so we didn't get ourselves killed. Or bring your wrath down upon them."

Ferula laughed. "Oh, that's silly of them. We often trade with Koumore for supplies that we can't find here. But I understand why they might be nervous that you're coming to find me."

"Like that group that was just before us?" Verona asked.

Ferula opened her mouth as an ear piercing shriek rang through the air. It quickly turned into a whimper and faded away. Ferula looked away, embarrassed.

Ferula sighed softly. "It happens from time to time. And I can't just turn them away."

"Was it the..." Kal glanced at Anton. "The Shadow Jaguars?"

"Or magic?" Cetina's armour groaned as she leant forward.

"A bit of both." Ferula smiled, the previous embarrassment gone. Ferula hobbled up and slowly brought over four small cups filled with a light red fragrant tea. They were all thankful but none were willing to drink it just yet, Anton pretended but didn’t feel anything change nor any magic react.

"Most are resting in the swamp right now, fulfilling the final act that we all must face one day. But some were stronger than a normal. So..." Ferula rolled her hand. "But we'll get to that. It's been so long since I've had actual guests that I'm getting all muddled up. Like a young flustered girl all over again. Tongue twisted into knots."

Ferula tapped a cane, hidden from their sight, against the wall of the hut. Something walked up the stairs, a small Shadow creature resembling a monkey raced to Ferula's side, tilting its head.

"Could you please get the books on Glyph and Principle magic that I collected?" The Shadow Monkey ran off, Ferula snapped her fingers and the creature stopped dead. "They're in the library in two large packs. On the table at the end."

The monkey nodded and scampered away.

"Sometimes the Familiars can be a little too eager." Ferula sighed. "They'll run off before you've told and come back, looking so happy and expectant, only to have to tell them again. Oh well, they really don't care."

"The Shadow Monkey was your familiar?"

"One of many." Ferula chuckled. "No serious magic user wouldn't have one."

The three Graterious mages didn't have one, at least that we saw, and I don't know if Duchess Belinda is strong enough to have one. She admitted that she's a very weak mage.

"Are you a Principle or a Glyph mage?" Kal asked, mirroring his own thoughts.

"A Principle Mage, I suppose you could say," Ferula said. "I was never lucky enough to be blessed by the Old Gods. No matter what I tried." Ferula shrugged. "But that hasn't stopped me from doing my best."

"These books..." Anton tapped the table. "What do you want in return? It sounds like you went through a lot of effort to get them."

"I do not know if you remember, but when we first met, while you were escaping from the Ancient Listeners-"

"How could we forget?" Verona asked.

"I told you that I hadn't forgotten my oath to the King of the Kar Kingdom. And I intend to see it through to the end."

"The Kar Kingdom is long gone. Doesn't that free you from your oath?"

Ferula shook her head. "Absolutely not. I made a promise to the King, even as Surdon burned around us, to see the kingdom restored no matter the cost. And I think, now, you will be that King, Anton."

The girls looked at him in silence, their faces hinting nothing of what was travelling through their minds.

I don't think I'd like to wear a crown.

Anton took several deep breaths before he responded. "I don't know if I'm king material. From what I understand the Kar Kingdom was not pleasant to Beastkin. Not in the slightest. I will make something better, something that everyone will look up to in envy. Somewhere where everyone, regardless of what they are, will be able to live safely and happily."

Ferula chuckled. "I didn't expect you to restore the Kingdom exactly. But so long as the lands will be civilized once again, I will help however I can."

"Those books will be a fantastic source of help," Anton said. "So far we've had to work things out on our own. And that's been very slow and...Sometimes dangerous."

Verona shuffled, remembering the mad trance she had fallen into, requiring Anton to electrocute her back to sanity.

"Glyph magic is powerful." Ferula grimaced. "But it can be very dangerous. Especially those that bare the mark of the less caring gods, like Verona’s."

Verona grunted.

“Gaining the allegiance of other Old Gods will be difficult.” Ferula frowned lightly. “Given their current antagonism you’re lucky that Jira is considered neutral in all things, otherwise Nithroel and her gang of lackeys would have bullied her to remove such power.”

“I’d rather have something like Earth or Wind Magic.” Verona huffed, folding her arms. “What about those gods?”

Ferula stroked her leathery chin. “Recently there has been a shift, a small but noticeable shift, in their pantheon. You may be able to gain some more of their favor, not you yourselves obviously, but others.”

“Who would be open to siding with us over Nithroel?” Anton asked. “I doubt our four, well Jira doesn’t seem like she cares all that much, are all that popular with the others.”

“No. That does limit some of their potential interactions. But there are some that you should seek out. I would suggest Thirío, Demi-god of Beasts, Parádeisos, God of the Heavens and Montagna, God of the Earth. From my understanding they are the most willing to change. However,” Ferula clicked her tongue. “They cannot move openly and Nithroel will be watching them like a hawk. Unfortunately you won’t be able to ask your gods to talk to them, even though I’m sure they wish too.”

“How do you know that?” Anton asked.

“They told me.” Ferula shrugged. “I can convene with them but it puts tremendous strain on my body, especially for someone so old. And anyone with a Glyph can’t use the brew either.”

“You’ve tried?”

“Yes. They end up dying a horrendous death.” Ferula sighed. “But that was a long time ago. You’re best hope is to find an idol of theirs, or create one, and pray to that. Then they will be able to commune with them without interference.”

“That’ll be a great help to us.” Anton smiled. “Speaking of help, in Porswea we heard about a blue powder. One that was apparently made here."

Ferula's wrinkled face smiled happily. "Yes. Though not by us. Too dangerous. There’s a small workshop near the port that makes it, but they would never give away their secrets. However, I have sent some of my...Acolytes to acquire the recipe. A sort of test, if you will, and I'm extremely happy with their work." Ferula turned around and sighed. "It's also in the Library. I'll have to get my monkey to get it when he comes back."

"You seem to know quite a bit about what we want," Anton said quietly. "How closely are you watching us? Do you hear every word we say? Have you been watching us at night too?"

The girls looked quite unsettled, Cetina as well. What they did at night was their own business. And not to be intruded upon by some strange woman.

"Only bits and pieces." Ferula tried to wave down their concerns. "But...I'm sorry I didn't see that some of your companions were Strega Witches. I feel terrible about that."

Ferula's words were directed at Cetina. Cetina grumbled but said nothing.

Heavy footsteps ran up the rickety stairs. The Shadow Monkey returned with two oversized packs on its back, yet its movement was not impeded in any way. It ran to Ferula's side and gently placed them at her feet.

"Thank you." She stroked the shadowy form, wisps of smoke coiled around her fingers and evaporated into the air. "Could you please get me the small blue bag sitting on top of the scrolls?"

The monkey nodded and scurried away.

"Despite my best efforts I was unable to find all the books and tomes relating to your powers." Ferula lifted out two large books, one red and the other a purplish-blue. "The United Kingdom standardized a lot of things, some of those related to magic. There are three levels to magic: Beginner, Intermediate and Advanced. There are many books for each level but they are grouped accordingly. These are beginner books for the Esperit and Stratos. I also have intermediate books for both too but nothing from the advanced levels. Those were rare then and it's beyond my power to find those. For now at least. I’ve also added a few items that you’ll find helpful. They weren’t easy to acquire so I hope you appreciate them."

"That's not bad," Verona said, nudging Anton.

"I also have a beginner book relating to Jira, and the manipulation of blood."

Verona didn't look entirely happy.

"And Tethra?" Kal asked. "I don't want to be left behind again."

"Unfortunately..." Tethra produced a white book. Compared to the others it was beaten up and neglected. "This was the only one I could find, and it's a beginner's book. I've found dozens of the others but this..." Ferula gently patted the book before placing it on the others. "This is the only one. Very well might be the only one left in existence. Someone went out of their way to destroy Tethra's legacy."

I wonder if a blond-haired goddess of the forest had anything to do with it.

"I'm just glad you found them." Anton took Tethra's book. "We were about to try and search the Royal Academy in Graterious for any of these."

"Hmm. They should have a few, but certainly nothing like what I have here." Ferula tapped the second bag. "This contains the books on Principle magic that I was able to find. None are intermediate or advanced but it should be a good start. I even found one on the basics of how to create a Charm, since Principle magic is different to Glyph magic. Especially since Principle Magic was designed to defeat Glyph magic. It, how best to describe it, it unwinds Glyph magic as its being cast, especially any artefacts. Though you wouldn’t know it powerful Glyph magic is like a child’s finger drawing compared to the complexity of Principle Magic. Though they’ll lack your strength you should always be careful fighting them.”

Anton flicked through the book. Everything was perfectly legible and understandable. Diagrams and pictures littered the pages, small handwritten notes were scrawled in the margins and pointing towards specific images. One pointed out that speaking a prayer aloud reduced the mana usage. If only Anton had known that at the beginning.

Verona tugged on his sleeve and pulled him down. She held her hand up so Ferula couldn't read her lips. "Remember that you said there were some things that only I could ask? Like with the Dark Elves?"

"Yes?"

Verona turned to Ferula. "Anything in those books on necromancy?" Verona raised a brow. Anton saw her hand hover over her blood filled pot. "I’m asking because we ran into some at a place called Balefire Mine."

"Ah..."

"What happened there?" Anton asked softly. "It seemed like things were going well, according to a journal that we found."

Ferula sighed and leant into her chair. "It was. No one had died in a long time, the beasts and monsters were held back."

"And the silver mine?" Kal asked. "Was that a part of it too? Oh, Anton's taken that for Atros's future."

Ferula chuckled. "You won't be running out of money anytime soon then." The smile quickly faded. "I had to perform some tasks in a distant land. And while I was trying to sort that out Balefire was overrun by the Ghlotsm. I had only prepared wards to deal with the Goblins and a few other nasties, not for them. Normally they live in Graterious and some in Bebbezzar. I didn't think they had a nest so close. By the time I returned it was clear they were long dead. The Ghlotsm had already made nests in the mine...And I simply walked away." Ferula sighed. "I spent a very long time after that lost, until I resolved to find someone in Graterious who could rebuild the Kingdom. However, I couldn't find one. Until I found you."

"I'm sure the amount of mana I possess has nothing to do with it." Anton smiled cheekily.

"I would be lying if I said it didn't help...But why did you talk about necromancy and Balefire? The only place with that was the vault below the sorting building."

"That's where we found it. A small pack of skeleton wolves guarding crates of silver ingots and very rare metal ores."

"Well...Yes. Coulsworth asked me to put some security down there to stop anyone stealing the silver, not that they could have spent it. Ghlotsm had no need of it either. So long as it is put to better use rebuilding-"

"We also found..." Anton hesitated. Did Ferula need to know about the dead bodies, those that had waited for her to return. Had she arrived but a few days after the attack, when they could have been saved, or months later when all would have been corpses?

"A tunnel, at the rear of the storage room. We had no idea where it led and didn't want to investigate further."

"I don't recall a tunnel. It must have been dug after I left. I was gone for a long time."

"You wouldn't have happened to have fallen out with the Strega Witches, would you?" Anton spoke as flatly as he possibly could. He had the feeling that he had no chance against her. And he didn't like their chances against the Acolytes without proper training.

Ferula rose from her seat and hobbled towards a small boiling kettle. She poured herself another drink, her face was lost in a deep confliction.

"Yes. I suppose that you could call me a Strega Witch."

Cetina moved an inch forward, her hand gripped tight on the handle of her sword. Kal reached over and held her back from doing something stupid and life ending.

Ferula sighed as she looked over Cetina with white milky eyes. "Your anger is somewhat justified. I was a part of the group that killed your father. But I left a long time ago. Before Eluria and Sancha were even considered initiates."

"Did their actions become too extreme?" Anton asked.

Ferula took her seat. Just the mention of this topic had drained almost all her strength. “I suppose you could call it that. I saw them change, and for the worse. Their desires and methods become too extreme for me. Suffice to say that I left almost all of it behind. I still keep in contact with one from time to time, but that’s mainly to remind them that I exist and to not come after me.”

“What could those people possibly want?” Cetina barely held back the venom in her voice. “Want so badly they would bring in sick and twisted people like them?”

Ferula’s face turned crestfallen as she looked into the cup. “If I were to tell you that, Atros would fall.”

“Are you threatening us?” Cetina growled.

“No.” Ferula smiled bitterly, gently shaking her head. “Not me.” She pointed at Anton. “But him. He would. His actions would destroy the last hope of the Kar Kingdom.”

What cryptic bullshit is coming out of your mouth? Let’s think about this properly. Knowledge itself is harmless, it’s what you do with it. So I’d do something…And the only thing that I can really do to help is my magic. Will I overuse it and cause a calamity?

Or stop altogether?

Anton frowned. “We are going to have to learn it eventually…So long as the Strega Witches, or at least Eluria, won’t be coming after us or our home I’ll be happy.”

“Unfortunately I trust the current head of the Strega Witches and they have lost sight of Eluria. Still. And I have not been able to catch her trail. She’s very good at running and sneaking about, wouldn’t you say?”

Cetina grunted angrily.

“But I will keep watch over you, and Atros, as best I can.” Ferula pointed to their necks. “Those things, those necklaces, they won’t truly stop our magic but it will prevent mental corruption. So you are safe from their…I suppose I should say, our, influence.”

Can’t take that at face value.

A pattering of feet preceded the Shadow Monkey returning, carrying a small blue bag over his head.

“Thank you.” Ferula caressed his intangible head again. “Now, run along and play with the others.”

“He plays with the Shadow Jaguars?” Verona asked.

“Yes. And a few others too.” Ferula glanced at Kal. “Unlike so many of us, they don’t care what they are when they play.”

“I don’t want to see what one of those big things is capable of.” Anton chuckled nervously.

“Perhaps I’ll give you a demonstration once we are done?” Ferula’s face livened significantly. “We still have some time before you need to leave, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to show off their abilities.”

Ferula passed over the blue bag. “The instructions are in here. They are very detailed and I can assure you that it works.”

Anton pulled out several pieces of rough paper and began to read what felt like a cake recipe. Ferula was correct, it was very simple.

Kal leant close, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We can get most of these things near Atros. These are all from plants that we can grow pretty easily. This…Might be a problem.”

“Now that we can move between cities quickly we can easily buy the components.” Anton smiled at Kal. “But we’ll get someone else to make it, just in case it goes off.”

“I would like to of more help.” Ferula continued. “But I’m afraid that I cannot, at this time. Most of my students are currently engaged overseas. They won’t be available until sometime next spring, which is far too late for your little foray into The Shadow Isles.”

“Yes…”

I don’t know how comfortable I’d be with a Strega Witch, or an apprentice or acolyte, lurking about.

“Oh, but there is one thing I can show you right now.” Ferula happily clapped her hands. “Though one of you has already done it.”

Kal received her attention. She pointed a finger at herself.

“Yes. You have something that the other two Glyph mages don’t have.”

“Apart from fluffy ears and a tail.” Anton said, cutting Verona off.

“Principle Mages require Charms.” Ferula reached into her loose clothing and produced a large golden medallion that barely fit her hand. Anton recognised the general shape but the gem interlayered into the metal was massive, a single stone shaped in an eight-sided spiral. It looked similar to a diamond, the largest and most impressive one Anton had ever seen.

Ferula chuckled as she saw them looking with awe. “It is quite large. And expensive. I don’t know how much this would sell for, but its power and ability is unrivalled. Not even the greatest mages alive in the Shattered Kingdoms have anything like this.”

“Did you make that yourself?” Kal asked. “Or did you find it?”

“…A bit of both.” Ferula placed the Charm onto the table with a light thud. “Glyph Mages don’t need something like this to use magic, though it helps. There’s are far more simple…I say simple, they don’t need to be simple, but it needs to be something special. The material itself doesn’t need to be rare or expensive, just crafted carefully.”

She pointed at Kal’s chest. Kal looked down, gently frowned and pulled out her silver medallion.

“That’s a very nice medallion of Tethra. May I please have a closer look at it?”

Anton felt incredibly hesitant. Not because she might steal it, but in case she left something behind. Kal felt the same but gently passed her the medallion.

“Please be careful with it. It’s very important to me.”

Ferula nodded, took out a piece of cloth, and gently held the medallion close to her white eyes. “Ah…This is very good. Almost pure silver handcrafted into an effigy of Tethra. And it has been cared for extremely well over a very long time.” Ferula passed it back to a grateful Kal. She passed it to Anton who checked it for any sign of Strega magic. Confident there was no he returned it. “It is quite a powerful artefact, even if you don’t realise it, though it will only increase Tethra’s powers and no one else’s. Anton could use it but not for fire or lightning magic.”

“That’s…” Kal stared at the medallion for a moment. A smile washed over her face before she tucked the medallion away safely again.

I thought that Kal just had some high affinity to Tethra’s power. In my heart, I still think she does.

“An Effigy doesn’t need to be made from metal.” Ferula continued. “It has to be made by someone with good intent. All of you, most, could create something that will enhance your powers to some level. The books contain advice on how to do that.”

“Will I have to wear something like a blood-stained skull around my neck?” Verona asked. “I’d rather not.”

“I don’t think so.” Ferula smiled. “But Jira does have a twisted sense of humour. But it seems other gods and beings do to, don’t they Anton.”

Anton leant back into the chair. “You knew Kal was a Beast-kin even with her mask on.”

“I looked too hard into the Flames of Foretelling.” Ferula shrugged. “And it burned out my sight. Permenately. But now I can see what no one else can. Could you please show it to me? While it’s wrapped around you it’s a little difficult to see.”

Kal helped Anton remove the string and his tail burst free. Ferula frowned lightly as she looked at the limb, not that Anton was expecting a different reaction.

“Well, well, well. What have you done to yourself this time?”

“This is the first thing that’s happened to me like this.” Anton frowned. “Is it going to continue?”

Ferula hobbled up and approached Anton. “I can’t say for certain. But do you think someone can wield three different Glyphs, where no one else can?”

“I…I just didn’t expect this.” Anton flicked the glowing ends.

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen happen.” Ferula held his tail and held it close to her eyes. “Principle Mages, should their magic get out of hand, could suffer far worse fates. Turned inside out or ripped to shreds from their unctrolled magic. Not that Glyph mages have to worry about that. That’s probably why they are so envious.”

“So what is it?” Anton flicked one end up.

“I’m not entirely sure. Whatever you have done, it has transformed your soul. And that’s not easy.” Ferula sighed. “Destroying a body is very easy, so is destroying a soul, but to transform it like that, without rendering you mad, is quite the feat. Especially with that black lightning sparking at the end.”

His tail only glowed white.

“Each time a Goblin is killed nearby I feel something growing, accumulating, there. But what do you see?”

Ferula rubbed her chin. “Let’s put it another way. When I look at Verona I see a red soul in the shape of a woman, flowing like blood.”

“Really?” Verona pouted before her brows furrowed. “Wait. Does that mean you can tell who’s a mage?”

“Yes. But none of the other Strega Witches can do this.” Ferula coughed. “Kal’s is white, I can see your long tail and ears even when they were hidden. Cetina’s…How to describe it. It’s there but it’s not. Like it’s constantly trying to fade away.”

“Are you trying to say that I’m dying?”

“I think it’s because you’re immune to magic, to a degree,” Anton said. “Like part of you is phasing out of existence.”

“I don’t think that’s a good way to put it.” Verona smiled.

“But it is true. If Eluria and Sancha could see what I can they’d have known right away that it was essentially pointless to try and use magic on you. But Anton’s soul was originally…Well, a bit of a mix. A mixture of white, purple and red swirling out of the crystal in your hand. Now it’s all distorted with this black lightning running throughout you, most of it’s focused on your tail and embedded crystal. Your feet seem fine…”

Ferula tapped on the table, pointing at Anton’s hand.

“Let me have a look. Please. It might explain what happened.”

Anton did as he was bid. Ferula’s bony fingers, strangely warm, trembled as they raked over his hand. She frowned as she tapped on the crystal.

“Have you come in contact with a source of magical power? A very violent one at that…” Ferula frowned. “What did you find in Balefire Mine? There was silver and Chelium, but nothing capable of this.”

“We did find something in one of the crates.” Anton began. “Most were filled with silver and Chelium ore, which we’re going to use, but we found one with a small little stone. After I touched it I started bleeding everywhere and fell unconscious. When I woke up I found myself like this.”

“Very interesting…” Ferula frowned lightly. “Whatever it was it wasn’t a normal artefact. No, something much older. Before the United Kingdom and perhaps even before the Age of Unending Strife.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Legends.” Ferula smiled. “The stuff of legends. Where the whole world was engulfed in war and death. Apparently only the oldest of the Wood Elves remember such a time, like their King. From what I know it wasn’t a good time. An age where your magical ability were supposedly common.” Ferula gently bounced the end of his tail. “A time where artefacts of unimaginable power were created and unearthed; capable of untold destruction, creation and everything in between. This…This looks like you touched a fragment of the Frangitur Ira.”

Anton raised a brow.

“An artefact from before that age.” Ferula relinquished her hold. “From before the time of the Old God’s themselves. Supposedly. Each piece is extremely dangerous”

Anton wasn’t sure if he should ask about the White Realm just yet, but something was telling him not to. The Strega Witches were after it, more than enough reason to deny it to them, but Ferula had simply fallen out not renounced their organisation and goals, only that they became too extreme. Did she still want the pieces and were simply waiting until the others had collected all bar one? If she really wanted it she could just kill them and take it, the fact she hadn’t was a good sign.

“You remember the Ancient Listeners?”

“How could we forget?” Verona mused.

“It is from the time of their gods. Even I do not know how long ago that was.” Ferula shrugged. “I doubt the near-immortal Wood Elves would even know of it. Maybe their elders.”

I’m sure that’s what I witnessed in the White Realm, the transition from one pantheon of gods to another. At least the beginning of it. And it didn’t look pleasant.

“Does that mean I can use their magic?” Anton asked. “It felt like lightning but I can already use that.”

Ferula smiled warmly. “I honestly don’t know. That magic, even if it really is magic as we know it, is beyond me. I’m sure that if I had some advanced warning I’d be able to tell you.”

Aren’t you meant to be watching over us? This didn’t happen yesterday. If you had other things going on I could understand, but still…

“I’m sure we’ll find the answer,” Anton said. “Or, I will. But if you do find anything please let us know right away. If it’s what the Awakened Goblins could use then it might be immune to Ghlyirl. But since the only way I can get more is by killing, haven’t fought anything outside of the Goblins so far….”

“My only advice would to be careful.” Ferula frowned lightly. “There are many types of magic, even ones that I or even the United Kingdom know about. There are many things that can go wrong.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Anton nodded. “I probably just need practice. At first I couldn’t use Glyph magic even though I had mana so I’m sure it’s the same thing. I wonder if it’s like Glyph or Principle magic…Different shapes perhaps, once I find out how to manipulate it, it shouldn’t be too bad. So long as I can find a way to get rid of the charge before it reaches my spine. Something tells me it’s not going to be all that good.”

“What happened to the stone after you touched it?” Ferula asked calmly.

I don’t think I should tell you that we still have it.

“We threw it into the mine,” Verona said. “Probably stuck in some Ghlotsm’s nest. We didn’t touch it though. Since it did that to Anton I didn’t think we should keep it.”

“I see.” Ferula gently nodded. “I still must apologise that there isn’t anything that can be done to remove or hide that tail or feet. It will only prove to be an annoyance in the future I’m sure. You will have to be very careful around people in the future. Hugs are going to be an issue.”

Anton shrugged. “Not a lot that we can do about it now. But that does lead to a more delicate question. One about potential…issues arising from this change.”

“Oh?” Ferula smiled faintly as she retook her seat. “Please enlighten me.”

“To be frank we haven’t had any physical relations since this happened. It’s not that it doesn’t function, I’m worried about this being transferable or not.” Anton shrugged lightly. “Or if it’ll affect any future children.”

“The change isn’t a disease.” Ferula began. “So that won’t be a problem. I’m sure that one of your lovely ladies has already touched it and they haven’t changed. As for the children…I honestly don’t know. Just make sure you don’t do it on those days and it should be fine.”

Anton knew that Ferula might not have a definitive answer but there was no way he was turning celibate. Definitely not. Until they knew more any thoughts of children would have to be put on hold, except for the ones that Verona and Kal might be carrying.

A silence fell over the room. Ferula gently clapped her hands. “Though this has been a wonderful meeting I don’t think there’s much more to discuss. You have to continue with your journey with all speed if you want to save the Dark Elves from their fate. Poor things…”

“Speaking of, what are the Red Goblins?” Anton asked. “He, whatever that one was, could control the others.”

“Reds?” Ferula held her chin. “Now those are rare. I’ve seen about thirty in my long life. Think of them as the commanders, intrinsic leaders who command the lesser Goblins. Which is everyone except the Awakened.”

Ferula sipped her tea, raising a brow at their silent and still faces.

“We don’t know much about the Awakened, how they are created or what they can really do, other than they emerge during times of change.”

“Like the Demons breaking through into the world.” Anton said. “Two Awakened kept the Demon’s portal from emerging. Then they went absolutely ballistic towards them, forgetting we were even there.”

Ferula gently shook her head. “I don’t know why they would just switch targets like that but we have never seen those things before. I will investigate further but I have very little to give you. Awakened Goblins are relatively unknown despite our long history fighting them, you already understand the hierarchy of the Goblins. Have you met any Blues yet?”

“Not yet. Water Goblins?”

“No. Think of them as Shamans. Weak magic users, but you know how dangerous even a weak Qaiviel Fire Mage could be.”

So you know about Belinda too. Not surprising.

“Thankfully they’re as rare as the Red’s and Awakened. I don’t think they use Principle magic, something more primal and raw, even compared to Glyph Magic.”

Those dolls in the White Realm…

Anton raised his hand. “There is something that I would like to do before I go any further-”

“I still have yet to show you how powerful familiars can be,” Ferula added.

“Yes. I think we’d like that demonstration and a bit of an explanation of how they work.”

Ferula frowned lightly. “That last bit might be a little difficult. Since these Shadow creatures aren’t the standard type of familiar. Your books have all the information necessary to summon creatures of the Old Gods and how to control them.”

“Having them as security would be very nice.” Anton mused. “But it has been almost impossible to contact you. If we could have earlier I would have asked to meet you in Rusaddir, even though that might have been inconvenient for you.”

Ferula shrugged. “Not particularly. But I understand your point.”

“Do you happen to have two pens with you?”

Ferula raised a brow. Did she not know about this, despite knowing almost everything else?

The Shadow Monkey soon returned with two small pens. Anton quietly asked for Kal’s medallion and enchanted the pens. Ferula spoke the truth. His prayer required less mana. Perhaps only a few percent for him but noticeable. Still nowhere near the level that Kal operated on. After returning the medallion he demonstrated how they worked. Though he was all but certain Ferula was blind to normal sight, she smiled and clapped once upon witnessing the pens copy one another.

“Such a simple enchantment can do such wondrous things.”

It took me a while to work it out. And I’m pretty sure that Tethra covered up a few things that I missed.

“I presume that this is for me?” Ferula held the small pen close.

“It is. Just in case we ever need to contact you, or vice versa.”

Ferula smiled at the pen, her bony finger tapping the end. “By simply selling these you could become wealthier than your wildest imagination.”

“That’s a lot of money.” Verona chuckled. “Like mountains of gold.”

Ferula chuckled. “The Kings and Queens of the United Kingdom could boast that. And that was without magic.”

Verona held Anton’s hand. “You’ve got your work cut out for you then.”

“Speaking of.” Anton began. “I was thinking of giving you a portal set.”

“Our magics already allow us to jump around very easily.” Ferula tilted her head. “I wasn’t actually following you through Graterious.”

“But you can’t take things with you right? Like books.”

“Indeed.” Ferula sighed. “Not even the food in your stomach.”

“If you can give us sixteen near identical stones we can solve that. So that we can…I don’t think you’ll need anything from us, so that we can trade. In a limited sense.”

Ferula bobbed her head from side to side. “Having access to fresh fruits and grains would be a god-send. Do you know the types of fruit that grow in a swamp? They’re disgusting.”

Ferula directed her Shadow Monkey. It retuned with a bag of stones. Ferula frowned lightly as the monkey placed them at her feet, a happy expression on its shadowy form.

“Where did you get this bag?” Ferula sighed as the monkey pointed just outside the door. “And did you take something out of it?”

“Was that one of our bags?” Kal asked.

“No. No.” Ferula furiously waved her hands, Anton didn’t think someone that old should be moving with such dexterity. “I think he just emptied some medical herbs onto the ground. Again.” Ferula scratched the happy monkeys head. “Really, sometimes these things…”

Anton and Kal enchanted the stones to create a portal. Ferula looked on equal amounts surprised and delighted. After establishing both sets in her house, and sending a small cloth through, Ferula was beside herself with happiness.

“This is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. No more bad food for us. And we can quickly come to your aid.”

“I doubt that you’ll need much help in return.” Anton said snidely.

Ferula chuckled. “You never know. Better that we have somewhere to flee if things get bad.”

“Like if more Bounty Hunters come after you?” Cetina asked.

Ferula nodded. “While we aren’t weak we can’t take on an entire army. Especially if they use mages and tamed beasts like Gryphons and Drakes. Then we’ll be in trouble. But only the royal army has those, and there’s no way they’ll come out this far. Even for me.”

No wonder Cassius want’s us on his side. I’m sure that he has a few tricks up his sleeve too.

“This has been a truly marvellous day. Far better than I thought it could be.” Ferula stood up. “Now, please follow me. I’d like to show you what familiars and summons are capable of. After you’ve disassembled the portal in my home. I don’t want to stumble into it at night. How embarrassing that would be.”

After bundling one portal set Anton led them down the groaning stairs and to the dry mud ground. With every step, his tail brushed against the harsh cloak. While the scales wouldn’t be worn down it still irritated him, the loose threads tried to knot themselves around the spines and the sharp ends became stuck in the weave. Thankfully his feet still just felt odd. Kal coughed before helping adjust his cloak, whispering to direct his tail flat along his legs. A small gathering waited outside. Most were Acolytes like the two from earlier, but four were different. Bounty Hunters; two men and women wearing mud stained metal and padded armour, bound tightly and thoroughly traumatised. And not just physically.

“These…”

“Yes.” Ferula shuffled past them, appearing to use her cane though it never quite touched the ground. “These are the nasty people that tried to kill us earlier.”

“You! You dare consort with witches!” One of the men yelled. A nearby acolyte’s hand glowed green before he wrapping it around his face. “I’m sorry! Please!”

He screamed until Ferula clicked her tongue. The acolyte removed his hand. The man whimpered but resumed his defiant state.

“Please don’t be too harsh with them,” Ferula turned her head towards the path. “I…Oh. It appears there are more of them.”

“More Bounty Hunters?” Anton asked.

Please don’t let it be those children.

“Always someone willing to risk their life for gold.” Ferula sighed. “When will Decimus realise that not even I can help his son.”

“Was that the son that murdered Lord Cassius’s daughter?” Verona asked.

“Ah. So you’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah…She sounded really pretty.”

“Oh, she was.” Ferula swooned, disturbing coming from a hunched ancient lady. “If I was so inclined I would have fallen for her. She even made this one’s old heart throb.”

A few of the acolytes giggled. Ferula glared but they didn’t stop.

“Truly beautiful. I think that’s why his son killed her, he couldn’t stand that someone like that would never love him.” Ferula looked Anton over. “Personality is important but looks are too. I doubt that someone like you, with at least three pretty girls hanging off your arms would have any interest in me.”

“Three?” Cetina asked softly.

“The stories,” Anton continued before Cetina could inquire further. “Said that he…Something that you couldn’t fix? Does that mean it was something so intrinsic that it couldn’t be changed?”

“Yes…”

“The sorties made it sound like he was suffering from inbreeding.” Anton folded his arms. “An oversized bottom jaw and a-”

“How can you speak with people like this?” A female Bounty Hunter asked. Ferula snapped her cane towards her face, she whimpered in pain as a wrist glowed green and bent back at an odd angle.

“Anyway…If it was inbreeding I don’t know if it can be fixed. That would affect nearly every part of his body, not to mention his mind.”

“That would explain it.” Ferula nodded slowly. Anton wasn’t sure if she already knew and simply played along. “Nothing did work. Not even our most powerful spells and magic.”

“So what are you planning to do with these four?” Verona asked, Cetina didn’t look too happy about their predicament.

“Well, since I am unable to give you any of my acolytes yet I was going to give you these four to do with as you please.” A sadistic smirk grew on Ferula’s wrinkled face. “Anything at all…Making them completely and utterly subservient isn’t beyond our abilities.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Anton said. “I am more than happy with the strength of those I have at my side.”

I don’t know how to say I don’t want anything to do with potentially mind altered battle slaves. Especially not my own.

“That’s a shame.” Ferula shrugged. “But not unexpected. They can still serve other uses.”

The four were ushered away without a further word. Verona and Kal looked at him but Anton remained flat and calm. There was little good they could do for them, he very much doubted they would leave Ferula and themselves alone after this.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Cetina asked. “Are you going to break their minds and turn them into slaves?”

“No. But they won’t be a problem anymore.” Ferula said flatly.

Probably going to nourish the swamp, if those other corpses are anything to go by.

“I would have preferred to demonstrate the strength of the Shadow creatures by targeting some of the more rowdy beasts and monsters that plague our swamp, but I’m afraid humans will have to do. Perhaps that’ll be a better example.”

The young girl acolyte ran towards them, her face red and flushed as great clods of mud flew from her rapidly moving boots. “Auntie Ferula! There-”

Ferula smacked the little girl on the head. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that in front of others?”

The girl pouted, cutely holding her head. Anton wondered how he compared to her. Could he even win against a new acolyte as he was now? Possibly not. Their victory of Eluria and Sancha was only thanks to their first strike and Verona’s devious use of her blood, not to mention they clearly wanted to flee rather than fight.

“Sorry.” The girl rubbed her head. “There’s twenty people coming down the main road. They’re better armed than the last group…” She looked at Anton. “I don’t mean the last one, I mean the-”

“Keep going girl,” Ferula said slightly annoyed.

“Right. Twenty…And they all look very angry. Some of them are dressed like Principle Mages too.”

“How many?”

“Um…I think four? Maybe five?”’

“What sort of robes were they wearing?” Ferula glanced to Anton. “The Principle Mages can’t help themselves but try and show off how what type of magic they can use. Gives us an advantage though.”

Green flame burst into life over her upturned hand. Anton felt no heat but something moved through the flames. A group of twenty people, armed to the hilt, moved cautiously through the swamp along the narrow mud road.

“One is wearing a blue robe, that’ll be a water mage. Two red. Fire, obviously. And one white, at least it was white before coming here.” Ferula chuckled. "That's a life mage. Normally a healer, in a group such as this, but also quite troublesome for the Shadow creatures. Not that they are going to be much of a problem."

"When we were in Porswea." Anton began. "The mercenaries seemed surprised that a mage would work as a Mercenary. So..."

"Money." Ferula shrugged. "The simplest reason is usually the best. It's very expensive to learn how to be a Principle Mage; books, teachers, paying the academies and institutions is not cheap. Normally only noble families have the wealth to even consider sending someone. A few commoners get lucky and are noticed but usually not. Thirty thousand gold coins would be more than enough to fund just about anything. These look like students, rather than fully fledged Principle Mages. See the markings on their collar?"

"I see two small golden bands...And it looks like there's space for three more." Anton frowned. "Second...Term? Students?"

"Exactly. They have already completed their first and second examinations so they aren't complete weaklings. But...They are far too young and inexperienced to fight us. I don't think Cassius would be pleased knowing his students were coming all this way to die. He can't afford to lose any more fighters."

Guess the upcoming civil war is very well known, or at least Ferula does.

"The four Shadow Jaguars should be enough to deal with them."

"They're not going to hurt Jub and Cub, are they?"

Ferula snacked the head of the little girl again. "Stop giving them names. They are just summoned creatures, nothing more."

The little girl pouted. "It's nicer for them to have names."

"You're twelve. Start acting like it."

She pouted even more, to a comical degree. Ferula turned to the entrance. The four Shadow Jaguar’s, once patiently waiting at the entrance, silently scampered into the swamp.

"Now...Have you seen how Principle Mages fight?"

"No. The only mages we've fought have been Strega Witches."

Ferula chuckled. “Those two were looking to escape rather than truly fight, even if you managed to get a tremendous first strike on them. But fighting one of us and a Principle Mages is quite different.”

Ferula’s green flame only grew as she removed her hand. An acolyte carried a bronze brazier and placed it beneath the flame. The green flame steadied and grew again, Anton heard the sound of boots striking mud and clinking of metal.

Verona smiled. “Can we learn how to do this?”

“Given enough time, perhaps. But it costs a tremendous amount of mana. And you need to know exactly where to look. Personally, those pens are far more interesting. Now, let’s watch, shall we?”

---[]---

“How much further?” Lars grumbled as he trekked through the thick swamp.

Great clods of mud stuck to his boots while stagnant water seeped through his armour and ground against his skin. When he focused hard he was certain he could feel something moving inside the water.

“Stop complaining.” Darius snapped back. He too was suffering from the swamps harsh terrain but endured it better than the others. He kept his longsword drawn and at the ready, two green eyes furiously scanning the surrounding bogs and half rotten trees for any sign of movement. “Our target isn’t some pushover.”

“For thirty thousand gold coins she’d better not be.” A Fire Mage mumbled.

Lars didn’t know their names. Darius had somehow convinced them to join as magical support. Though they had only completed their Second Examination they were clearly no weaklings. But he did not feel comfortable.

“And where are the others?” A female mercenary asked. She wore a thick cloth padded armour, a loaded crossbow in her hands with a short sword and small shield resting on her hip. “We should have already found them.”

Darius sighed. “If they’ve already gone ahead they could have claimed the reward. But I put this thing together. So we’ll be splitting it the way we agreed to.”

“Don’t need to tell me that.” The woman said dismissively.

“Besides, we have these four mages if things get ugly.” Darius raised his hand for everyone to stop. “Do you hear that?”

Lars focused as hard as he could. Insects and small animals chirped and lived their lives but he couldn’t hear anything special. A few heartbeats later he did. Something walking towards them over the water, it sounded light and small but the gaps between the steps were far too long. They grew closer and closer, even with daylight on their side he couldn’t see very far through the twisted logs and willowy trees of the swamp. As his heart reached a bursting pace the noise stopped.

“Where-”

A black shadow tore through a collection of wood, throwing a mixture of splinters and swampy water in all directions. The shadow ran towards them with the speed of lightning. Lars barely saw the shadow, shaped like a dog, grab Darius’s head before both bodies sored over the road and splashed into the swamp on the other side, sending up a torrent of foul green water. A bloodied hand emerged, the green stagnant water turned red, and everything fell silent once again.

“We have to get out of here!” The female mercenary shouted.

“No!” Cried another mercenary, holding onto the shoulder of a trembling Fire Mage. “We need to-”

Another shadow lunged out of the swamp, not as fast as the first. Lars saw that it was indeed shaped like a wolf, but nothing like he had ever seen before. As big as a bear yet with distinct feline features. Some giant cat? Not that it really mattered. It was going to kill them either way.

A mage wearing blue, a Water Mage, stepped forward. A sneer graced his otherwise handsome face. “I’ll handle this.” He raised his staff, a bronze charm lay on top, with a large sapphire in the centre. “Cold winds of the frozen depths, pierce their rotten souls!”

A lance of ice materialised in front of his staff before flying towards the Shadow Creature. The creatures stopped and braced to take the hit. The mage sneered again as the ice lance smashed into its head, felling the beast. It staggered aimlessly before collapsing onto the ground. Instead of blood it leaked a thick black smoke that evaporated into the air.

“Ha! They aren’t so tough.” The mage cheered.

Lars was almost inclined to agree before the creature hauled itself back up. The black smoke regrew and reformed the head. Yellow eyes blinked back into reality. The creature hadn’t taken any damage, yet it didn’t seem angry.

“What?”

The mage slammed his staff into the muddy ground. He chanted another three ice lances, all hovered near his charm until he tipped the staff towards the beast. The beast took the hits again. This time it tore completely through its shadowy hide and obliterated its body. The legs flopped away before faded into nothingness.

“Now…” The blue mage was slightly out of breath. “That’s how we deal with those things. Cover us and-”

A black blob covered his face, red spurted from his neck and drenched his clothes. Lars reached out to grab it but his hands touched a strange shadowy substance. His hands could not properly grasp before a small head towards him. He had seen this before in travelling circus that had come through Graterious. A monkey, but one just like the other shadow creatures. It screeched, Lars’ ears winced in pain, before jumping away with the mage’s head underneath one arm. The female mercenary fired her crossbow at the creature, striking it square in the back. The monkey tumbled, dropping the head into the swampy water, before limping into an open log.

“We need to get out of here.” The female mercenary spoke very softly. “The others are dead. I know it.”

“This was stupid.” A Fire Mage whimpered. His hands held his staff so tight he could barely move. “I want to go home.”

“Everyone fall back.”

Lars didn’t care who called for their retreat, he was about to run anyway. They formed a tight group and began to fall back slowly, their eyes peeled for the shadow creatures. There was at least one still lurking nearby.

“There!” The other Fire Mage cried. She looked very similar to the male Fire mage, a sister perhaps. “Strike the flame!”

Her chant was very short, but her magic was weaker than the Blue Mage. A fireball flew into the swamp. A shadow creature leapt out, its rear burning bright with streaks of Darius’s blood pouring from its maw.

“Strike the flame!” Another fireball flew out and struck the beasts hind again. It was wounded but wasn’t going down yet.

“Brother! I need help.”

“R-Right.” His shaky hands pointed his charm towards the creature. “By the light of the fire, strike down my enemies!”

His fireball was slightly smaller but moved much faster. Lars didn’t understand nor care to. It hit the creatures shoulder, showering it in a great plume of flame. The creature yelped in pain before diving into the swamp. Its body sizzled as the stagnant water extinguished the flames. The creature eyed them off without any feeling as it sunk beneath the water.

“Time to go!”

As Lars turned around his whole body stopped. The road behind had completely disappeared, the swamp continued endlessly towards the horizon. They were stuck on a small strip of land. Stuck in this hell.

“We have no choice but to push forward.” The Life Mage spoke softly. “If we kill the enemy the world will return to normal.”

“Fuck that.” A Bounty hunter yelled out. Almost half agreed with him. “We’ll just go through the swamp. How far can it be?”

“Fool.” The Life Mage spat. “The world has clearly changed.”

The mercenary ignored him and stepped off the end of the land. If he had expected it to be an illusion he was sorely mistaken. His armoured boot sunk deep into the swamp.

“Fuck!”

The mercenary tried to pull himself out but his leg wouldn’t budge. A blood-curdling scream escaped his lips as he fell deeper into the water. Crossbows fired randomly but found nothing. A hard green thorny vine coiled around his legs, the thorns ripped through his armour and skin, great rivulets of blood flowed out and stained the water red. Small humps formed underneath the water moving towards him.

“Help me!” He screamed helplessly. No one budged.

The lumps reached his legs and sunk beneath the water. For a single moment relief dyed his face, but it was short lived. His body slipped down into the water, a final look of stupefaction on his face as his arms flew above his head. Bloody bubbles floated to the surface alongside pieces of flesh.

“Hey!” A young’s girls’ voice called out from the front.

Three people stood on the dirt road. Two men, one perhaps in his adolescence and the other in his twentieth winter, stood either side of a small girl somewhere around her eleventh or twelfth winter. Lars knew something bad was coming. Far worse than what they had just endured.

She pointed an accusatory finger towards them. “You hurt Cub and Jub. That’s not nice!”

“Who is this?” The female Fire Mage asked.

“No idea.” The female mercenary loosed a bolt towards the little girl.

She yelped and threw up her hand. Green smoke coiled before her, enveloping the bolt and suspending it harmlessly in the air.

“Auntie Ferula-” The girl winced as something unseen struck her head. “Said that you need to go. But you wouldn’t leave. So we need to make you leave.”

“They’re just some little kids.” A mercenary brandished his slightly rusted sword. “Cut them down!”

The mercenaries, baring Lars, charged at the three. Lars knew it wasn’t that simple but he found his legs completely unresponsive. The two men hands coiled with smoke. Four large green smoke whips flew out and struck the mercenaries. Metal plate bent and bones cracked, sending some into the water to be devoured by unseen creatures, others simply to snap heads clean off. One almost reached the little girl, his sword already swinging down in a mighty strike to cleave her in two. The smoke around her hands pushed up in a great cloud, throwing him over her and crashing into the ground behind them. She ran towards him as the smoke solidified into a sword, one impossibly big for her to wield. The mercenary sprung to his feet and charged, anger and desperation having overridden any sense. Another coil of green smoke grew around her hand and shot towards the mercenary’s sword. It flew up and out his hands as the little girl swung her sword at his chest. The green ghostly blade careened effortlessly through his chest armour as the little girl dodged to the side. A line of red seeped through. He took a single step forward before his body separated, his upper half travelling several feet until it ground to a halt. His mind couldn’t process what was happening as he tried to crawl away. A blood-curdling scream filled the air as he rolled and tossed about, screaming as his intestines spilled onto the ground. Lars recoiled at the sight, falling down into the mud before crawling behind a large log resting on the edge of the pathway.

“Sorry.” The little girl plunged the ghostly sword into his head.

He gurgled a final cough of blood, his body falling back dead while the green blade fell loose.

The little girl’s mouth swelled. She ran back and vomited a thin, weak liquid. While she was coughing the other two men moved to finish off the remaining mercenaries. They too wielded green ghostly weapons, one a spear and the other a large sword. The Fire Mages readied themselves to attack but couldn’t get a clear line onto the rapidly moving witches. They shared a glance and pointed their staves towards the little girl, still recovering from her splutters.

“Help us!” The female Fire Mage shouted at the White Mage.

The White Mage didn’t reply but his lips were moving. A chant. Lars knew almost nothing about magic but knew the longer the chant the more powerful the magic.

“Fine then.”

Both Fire Mages chanted their magic again, several fireballs hovered in front of their staves. Before they threw them forward the Female Fire Mage raised her hand for her brother to wait.

“Fire of life, that which gives us nourishment and purpose, strike down those that seek to extinguish our righteous cause!”

A small red creature burst out of the charm. It was about the same size as the Shadow Monkey but this was far more humanoid. Its face was drawn to a point, like a dog, while two dark horns grew out the size of its head. A short tuft of flame flickered as its hair. The creature snarled and licked a flaming tongue over its red teeth. In one hand it held a small flaming sword. While its other hand was empty its red claws looked incredibly sharp. Lars felt the heat radiating off the creature.

“Kill that girl!" The female Fire Mage yelled. "Then the others!”

The creature made no acknowledgement but ran towards the little girl, its small legs propelling it with unnatural speed. Flame balls soared over its head. A swirl of green smoke grew in front of the girl as she stood up, wiping away the vomit from her mouth. The male witches held one hand towards her. The fireballs exploded upon contact with the green fog. As the last fireball exploded it left the little girl with only the ghostly green sword to defend herself. The fire creature leapt towards her with its flaming sword aimed at her.

With a flick of her hands, a strange green light grew around her. Strange markings and lines, none of which Lars recognised, burst into reality. The flame creature crashed into the light but couldn’t get through. Green sparks flew up as its claws dug into the green barrier. The creature hesitated before plunging its sword through the barrier. The barrier flickered but held, held long enough for her to transform her sword into a long spear and drive it through its stomach. The flame creature’s mouth swelled before belching a torrent of white-hot fire along the shaft of the ghostly spear and through the gap in the barrier. The girl screamed as the fire consumed her. The fire creature disintegrated into wisps of flame as she emerged blackened and burning. Flesh and clothing had melted together, so too had her hair melted to her skull while the tips burned a greasy smoke. Lars couldn’t see her eyes, now burned out pits, as she flung herself into the swampy water. An arm fell loose and rolled onto the ground, smouldering and twitching as it continued to boil. A violent burst of steam rose from the water as she kicked and writhed in the stagnant water.

The Fire Mages looked happy with their result. The female Fire Mage looked a little wobbly but still held on.

“Fire of life, that-”

The swamp to her side burst open. Another shadow creature, identical to Darius’s killer, leapt out of the swamp. Not just one but two. The Fire Mages didn’t stand a chance. With one bite they were caught and dragged screaming into the swamp. Their staves and charms, the most precious things a mage had, clattered lifelessly to the muddy ground. Pools of blood started to seep into the swamp.

A scream came from the final mercenary as both witches turned on him, cutting and eviscerating his bodyinto tiny pieces. Blood dripped from their green ghostly blades until they were clean once again. Neither directed their attention to the charred body floating in the swamp water, Lars didn’t know if she was still alive or not.

The Life Mage cracked his neck. “And I thought they would have done something better. At least they took out the little one.”

Lar’s wasn’t about to speak up, he could barely hold onto his sword let alone his bowels. There was no way he could muster any strength to fight any of these monsters.

“Aren’t you going to help your friend?” The Life Mage gestured to the little girls’ corpse. They took a single glance but didn’t move to help.

The witches pointed their weapons towards him.

He tapped his staff against the ground. Lars felt his body turning cold, the very warmth drawn from his breath. “Arise. Arise to serve your dread master.”

A wicked smile grew on the Life Mage’s face. Lars always thought he was a little odd, he rarely spoke to others but was always polite and courteous. But this…

The air continued to grow cold. It’s not that it was actually cold, the mud at his feet hadn’t hardened, Lars simply couldn’t feel. He backed away, as far as he could.

A dark green light gathered around the Life Mage’s staff. His charm, a silver circle with a small ring of white gems, began to rot. The silver blackened to obsidian while the gems began to rot. Green light darted through the air like flaming embers. Each tiny ember landed on a mercenary’s corpse. A dull groan filled the air. The bodies began to move once again. Despite their wounds they rose up, their weapons held tight in their shambling and trembling bodies.

A necromancer.

“By the gods.” Lars whimpered.

The necromancer glanced at him. “I thought you were dead. Don’t worry. The gods are real, but they will not save you. No matter how much you scream and beg. Attack!”

The resurrected mercenaries, zombies, lurched forward, a strange green ethereal light leaking from their eyes and wounds. Those cut in half picked themselves up on their hands, ignoring their decapitated lower bodies and shuffled towards their targets. The witches readied their weapons and charged. With every swipe the green light left the zombies’ bodies, but their attacks were slowing. Unlike the mercenaries, they had to push their weapons through the reanimated bodies. Very quickly they began to tire as the zombies continued to push forward. A ghostly strike smashed a zombie’s blade out if its hand. It didn’t care, lunged forward and grabbed the witch by the shoulder. For a moment their eyes connected, the witches living eyes drenched with fear, the hollow green glowing holes staring back, before the zombie pulled down. Flesh tore as the arm ripped free, the witch screamed in pain, kicked the zombie and forced some distance. His weapon faded back into green smoke before it coiled around his stump. He screamed as the clothing hardened around his wound and sealed the blood. As the green mist coiled back into a sword Lars saw the clothing and flesh and mixed together, small spokes and whirls jutting out from his wound.

“This is why I hate witches.” The necromancer grumbled. “Always so tricky.”

He thumped his staff onto the ground again, another burst of green magical energy swarmed into the closest six zombies. Their muscles shuddered as they hunched down on all fours. Bones and muscles clacked and tore as their bodies transformed with a feral bestial howl. Their muscles grew larger, wounds knitted themselves together and their teeth grew longer and sharper. A semblance of life returned to the shambling monstrosities but it wasn’t the mercenaries Lars had known. The necromancy snapped his fingers and the new creatures ran at the two witches, jumping over the shambling zombies and throwing themselves at the witches. A green barrier formed in front of the witches which the monsters smashed themselves upon. Like the flame creature they struggled to smash through, though their strikes were far weaker and climbed to attack them in the rear. While the witches were distracted the zombies drew close and began slamming on the barrier. Great hunks of the shield broke with every strike. Within a few moments, the zombies were forcing their way in through the tiny gaps, screaming as they wildly grasped at their prey.

“This might be tougher than I thought.” The necromancer held his chin. “I should have raided Koumore’s graveyard first…Though I wouldn’t have had these to fight for me.”

“That’s enough I think.”

A voice came from behind the struggling witches. An elderly woman waddled towards them, a rickety cane in one hand could barely hold her weight. The Necromancer frowned and clicked his tongue. He tapped his staff and the zombies and dead creatures backed away. They ignored Lars but he couldn’t help but feel their…lifelessness, pulling at something deep within him. One of the hunched creatures stared at him, a deep hunger in its eyes. It wanted something more than his flesh.

“Now you’re just giving us a bad impression.” The elderly woman sighed. “Though I wasn’t expecting a necromancer to pretend to be a Life Mage.”

“Forgive us.” The one-armed mage muttered.

The elderly woman looked to the floating body of the little girl.

“Take her back and begin healing her.” She ordered with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t let them help her. She’s not allowed to use a substitute for the backlash. Failure needs to be punished.” She glared at the one-armed man, her white milky eyes devoid of any emotion. “The same goes for you.”

“Y-Yes.”

Both men’s weapons faded into mist. They waded into the swamp and recovered her body. It was just as burnt as Lars first thought. Her blackened skin had hardened and cracked at disturbing angles, both her feet had burned away to stumps and so too had her other hand. They wrapped and held her aloft her in the green fog and ran along the road.

“So…You’ve made an embarrassment of my demonstration.” The old woman sighed. “Well, perhaps it wasn’t so bad. A poignant demonstration of how little they understand about magic…But that’s something I’ll have to deal with that later. But it’s not every day I meet a necromancer.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m just some toy to you?” The necromancer asked.

“Perhaps. You aren’t weak, by any means, but nor are you that strong. I’ve seen stronger zombies and ghouls from someone younger than you. But, like all necromancers, you aren’t that strong once your puppets are gone.”

Ferula tapped her cane. The Shadow Monkey emerged from the wooden log, many more after that. A dozen shadow creatures slunk out of the putrid swamp. Before they looked disinterested, now they were angry. Very angry. The necromancer’s zombies and ghouls shuffled nervously. Lars was certain they couldn’t think for themselves yet responded perfectly to their masters thoughts.

“I would like to know who your teacher was. I might have known them. But if I did they’d certainly have told you never to cross a Strega Witch.”

“I’m going to enjoy tearing through your library.” The necromancer laughed. “I imagine you have quite a few secrets in there.”

“We do. But you’re a fool if you think that you can actually get there.” Green mist grew around the woman’s cane. “It’s always disheartening to see someone with potential have all that power go to their heads. You could have been a great necromancer. But now…”

The green smoke continued to coil until the old woman tapped her can again. The shadow creatures lunged into the attack, so too did the dead. The sides smashed into one another, limbs and plumes of black smoke flew into the air.

“W-How?” The necromancer spat out. Even Lars knew what had happened. He had challenged someone far beyond his strength.

“It’s not that difficult.” The old woman emerged from behind the necromancer, a ghostly blade hovering above her hand. “It just requires training and patience.” The ghostly sword flicked towards his skull. “But you’ll never know that.”

The dead creatures stopped, the green light faded from their bodies. At once they collapsed to the ground, completely unmoving and unresponsive. The shadow creatures prodded a few. Content they were truly dead they pushed them into the swamp.

“I…” The necromancer spluttered a final cough of blood. His hands twitched before his body swayed and fell face forward into the mud. His feet kicked up, throwing a final clod of mud into the air before he joined the dead creatures.

The old woman approached him, seemingly ignoring Lars, and used the smoke to lift away his white stained cloak.

“Let’s see here…” She frowned lightly. “Not that much with you. But you do have this.”

She ripped a large book free, a very fine large metal trimmed book secured with a massive lock. The green haze broke it open in under a heartbeat. Her face widened in surprise as she flicked through the pages.

“Ah. A book written by Gorash. Very nice. I don’t have this one…I wonder where you found it.” She looked at his body and shrugged. “I could ask you but necromancy isn’t my speciality.”

She snapped the book closed and passed it to a shadow monkey. The shadow monkeys descended upon the necromancer’s corpse and stripped him of anything valuable. They began to collect the mages staffs and loot the bodies of any coins.

“Now…” The old woman turned to Lars. “What do we do about you?”

Lars couldn’t move, couldn’t even think, as the woman looked at him with complete disinterest. She nibbled on her fingernail.

“It would be easier for me to get rid of you…But…People will still keep coming. Now, if people just keep disappearing there will be people that won’t believe it and keep coming. But if I let you go then there’ll be those seeking a challenge. Or that simply don’t believe it. So what to do?”

She looked Lars up and down with her blind milky white eyes.

“Go. I don’t think you’re going to be coming back again. Will you?”

Lars mustered what mental strength he had left and shook his head.

“Good. Now, run along.” The old woman pointed with her cane across the empty swamp. Now it wasn’t empty, the pathway had returned as if it was never gone. “Take some of their coin too. I’m sure you’ll need the alcohol to wash away the memories of what happened here.”

A Shadow Monkey approached with several silver plates and rings in its hands. Lars gingerly took them, not knowing if his head was about to be separated from his shoulders, and turned to run.

“If anyone asks you tell them that the swamp took them and you ran. Understood?”

“Y-Yes.” Lars croaked out.

The old woman chuckled. “You still have a voice? Good. Good. Now, run along. Before I change my mind.”

Lars did not hesitate and ran as fast as his trembling legs could carry him.

---[]---

Anton watched in silence as the two acolytes returned with the charred body of the little girl. His stomach churned to see such a person in such a state, even though thousands had died by his own hand in an equally gruesome manner.

“Is she dead?”

The Acolyte missing his arm shook his head. “Not yet. She was smart enough to curse herself before throwing herself into the swamp. It’s going to hurt when she’s better.”

“I can heal her.” Anton stepped forward, slightly wary of the green fog. “So long as she’s not dead I-”

The one-armed man stopped him. “Ferula said that she cannot receive that style of healing. She will be restored by the Curse of Renewal. It will restore her body completely, missing limbs and all.”

“Then why is it a curse?” Verona asked as she approached the floating body. She recoiled when the little girl's charred lips quivered ever so slightly. “I mean, why the fuck don’t you want Anton or Kal to heal her? They can do it basically with a snap of their fingers.”

“Ferula told us so.”

The two acolytes carried her into a house. Anton grumbled as they shut the door.

“Fucking hell.”

“I think we should go the first chance we can get,” Kal said softly.

Anton agreed with all his heart. However, he simply couldn’t just up and leave. Ferula could clearly teleport easily. If they ran she would probably just bring them back. And it was quite clear that she wasn’t someone to cross.

I guess we really did get lucky with Eluria and Sancha.

Ferula emerged from behind an acolyte, still limping on her cane. “How was the demonstration?”

“Terrifying,” Anton replied truthfully. “For just about every reason. It seems that we still have a lot to learn.”

“You do. But you saw what some of your magic is capable of. The female Fire Mage…that was a level two fire summon. Yours will be slightly different, Principle compared to Glyph magic, but you can see what just one can do against a somewhat competent magic user. Imagine what it was like when nearly everyone could use stronger magic than that.”

Ferula turned to the house and sighed. Anton didn’t understand how she could treat her acolytes with such indifference to their suffering, especially one she had spoken with so fondly just before.

“Will she survive?”

“Probably. Perhaps by spring she will be back together in one piece. Though…Her mind might be ruined from the pain.”

“Why not use Anton’s and Kal’s powers?” Verona asked again.

“Because that is not our way,” Ferula spoke calmly.

Is it that Tethra’s power is hostile to yours? I could brush away the Strega magic pretty easily with Tethra’s. Would it ruin a Strega Witch? Something to keep in mind.

“But he said that it was a Curse of Renewal,” Anton said. “How is that a curse?”

Ferula grinned a toothy grin. “Because our magic extracts a toll. It is very versatile, like Tethra’s, but instead of requiring exorbitant amounts of magic, it requires an exchange of pain and suffering.” Ferula chuckled. “A considerable amount of pain that no medication can dull.”

She turned to a patiently waiting acolyte. “Bring him here. I want to show what Curses can do.” The acolyte nodded and scampered away.

“What you saw is one way we can use our magic.” The green fog gathered in front of Ferula’s hand. Anton felt Cetina’s rage slowly bubble beneath a clam feigned exterior. “Though it takes considerable practice and effort to form it into something like a weapon. Most of the time it’s just easier to keep it as a cloud and strike with that, though it’s more easily destroyed. Like you found out in your previous battle.”

“Indeed.”

“The other are curses. It’s somewhat similar but…It’s easier just to show you.”

The one-armed acolyte stepped down the rickety step holding the remains of his arm. A crude amalgamation of flesh and his clothing had knitted itself together to stem the flow.

“Forgive me, Ferula.” The man’s face was whiter than before, a slight jitter to his step and fingers.

“You simply need more training and practice.” Ferula green smoke gathered around his stump. “Do you have something to bite down on?”

An acolyte presented a piece of wood. He placed it in his mouth and nodded once.

“Someone hold him. He won’t be standing after this.”

Ferula whispered something, a language Anton didn’t understand, and the smoke glowed brightly. Out of the fog, the man’s arm began to regrow. Small bundles of muscle and skin grew out of the ether, knitting themselves back together. Anton saw the man’s face. The pain searing across his eyes, his very soul, was unimaginable. Sweat poured from his skin after travelling but a centimetre. His pants grew wet, a light yellow liquid pooled at his feet as pieces of the wood began to splinter free.

“Fucking hell,” Verona mumbled. She pulled Anton back and closer to them. “I prefer your magic.”

Ferula chuckled. “I can see why you’d think that. But with this we can restore almost anything. Even something damaged, not matter where it is on your face.”

Cetina violently shook her head. “I’m fine with what I have right now. So don’t think about handing me over to them.”

The man needed support just to stand up. Four moved to his side and stopped his body from falling any further. Anton smelt something far worse, Kal wrinkled her nose at the merest whiff. It wasn’t surprising that his bodily functions would let go after enduring so much pain. No one spoke a word until his arm had completely been restored. Ferula flicked a finger and the smoke dissipated. The acolyte had bitten down so hard that the wood had almost been cut in two. No life remained in his eyes as they dragged him away.

“Is…He going to be alright?” Anton asked.

“Given him about thirty days and he’ll be fine,” Ferula replied. “But until then it’ll be a miracle if he can even move. He’ll be able to use his magic just as well afterwards, so no worry there.”

That part really doesn’t worry me.

“If his mind doesn’t break, that is. It’s called a curse for a reason. In return for restoring his arm,\ he will suffer nightmares for the next thirty days alongside excruciating pain. I know you’ve all had bad dreams before but they are nothing compared to this. Think of your worst fears imaginable playing out a thousand times every heartbeat.” Ferula held her chin. “I suppose the only good thing is that it’s so painful that you don’t remember much, at least not until the end where you become more lucid.”

Cetina would be down for a few weeks at best, if it can actually heal Ghlyirl infested flesh.

“The length of time is proportional to how much is restored. That girl will be in…considerable pain for a long time. But it also depends upon the curse. If it were something like a Mental Corruption curse all you would feel would be a constant yet deep headache.”

Anton glanced at Cetina. “That makes some sense…I think that we have seen enough for today, Ferula.” Anton bowed. “Thank you for the tomes and books. We will make good use of them and make Atros strong enough to retake the entire Kingdom. Though I cannot guarantee the day.”

Ferula laughed. “I look forward to it. My apologies for the unsightly display. I wanted to show you how to fight against mages, but I didn’t anticipate a necromancer being a part of their group.”

But you could see our spirits before, that’s how you knew Kal was a Beast-kin despite being covered. Did you not see what he was? Or was it just to demonstrate your own power?

“I’m presuming you got something out of it.” Anton nodded to the large book she had taken. “That looks pretty expensive.”

“Its value is above things such pretty trinkets like silver and gold.” Ferula eyes widened as she looked at the Mage’s staffs. “Do you want any of those staffs? If you don’t you could easily sell them.”

“I think we will even though it’ll be some time before someone can actually use them.” Anton smiled. “But, as you said, we must return to the ship and continue with our journey.”

“Of course.” Ferula waved to some acolytes that ran out of the hamlet and along the swamp path. “The path is properly restored and safe. The Shadow Jaguars will ensure the creatures of the swamp will stay away, with all that blood they’re going to be very active.”

Verona coughed. “What about the guy you let go? If he’s heading to Koumore we’ll catch up to him.”

“Don’t worry about that. I cast a tiny spell on him. He’ll run straight to Koumore and won’t stop for anything. He’s also safe from any sort of nasty beasts or monsters.”

Anton nodded. They untied the horses and readied to leave.

“Please contact us again if you need help,” Ferula said as they mounted their horses. “But only after the winter. Otherwise, you’ll only have my acolytes to help, rather than my students. They are much stronger than what you saw earlier.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Anton gently whipped the reins. “Thank you Ferula. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Good luck with your journey.” Ferula waved, as did the acolytes. “May the land of the Kar Kingdom sing once more with the sound of laughter and life.”

Anton forced himself to return the wave, so too did the girls but it was very forced. With a final glance, they sped out of the hamlet, not sparing a glance back or exchanging a word until they left the fetid, humid and disturbing swamp behind.

Chapter 125 - Vol 4 - Learning

Chapter 125:

Anton gently closed the door to their room on The Snowberry. Verona took a seat on the bed, Kal a chair while she unruffled her ears while Cetina leant against the wall, her arms folded and her black brows furrowed in anger. After leaving the swamp they had barely spoken a word. Even the man Ferula allowed to escape did not weigh much on their mind. They rode past him, red-faced and sweating profusely but otherwise, he was fine.

“Does,” Anton coughed lightly. “Does anyone want something to drink?”

“Yes please.” Verona received nods from the other girls.

Anton produced four small mugs and poured a generous portion of wine. Everyone downed their portion without hesitation. Anton sat next to Verona and stared into the mug.

“That’s probably not the best for anything in our stomachs, but are we being listened to right now?” Verona asked.

“Probably,” Kal mumbled. “She knew a lot about us. Even that we were together.”

Cetina grumbled, barring her teeth lightly.

“I’ll think of a way that we can talk with more secrecy.” Anton held Verona’s shoulder. “But I think we should have a look through what we were given.”

“Can you be sure they aren’t infected with their magic?” Cetina pulled herself off the wall. “She was able to corrupt that man without raising her hand. How do you know we’re fine?”

Anton already checked himself and found nothing. There was no harm in checking twice. He checked Verona, receiving a strange look, then Kal and Cetina. There was no hint of the green haze anywhere in their bodies.

“There’s nothing in any of us. I’ll check the books.”

“Did you really think they were Strega Witches?” Cetina looked him, a mixture of anger and annoyance on her face. “Before we met them?”

Anton sighed. “I did. But, as I said, I wanted what they had to offer. I had no idea what we were about to witness there.”

“Don’t ever make me go back there,” Cetina spoke softly, staring at the floor. “I never want to see that green magic again.”

“I don’t intend to.” Anton patted her shoulder and sat next to Verona. “But we’ve got what we wanted.”

Luna, nesting in a thick bundle of clothes in the corner, squeaked and trotted to Cetina’s side. She pawed at Cetina’s boots until she picked her up and began to pet her. She didn’t care who it was, so long as someone was giving her attention. Cetina softened as she scratched the mewling white blob.

“You are a cute little thing.” Cetina removed her glove and scratched her ears.

Anton quickly checked Luna for any sign of corruption. Satisfied she was free he scratched roughly behind her ears eliciting a mewl.

“We should get more creatures like her.” Anton leant back. “Something other than horses. More Peyton’s, maybe some Griffons or Giant Eagles. Drakes? Something. I don’t know if Dana will appreciate it.”

“Alcanares could have some of those for sale.” Cetina sat on an empty chair next to Kal. “No Drakes or Dragons but a lot of exotic creatures. But I’m not sure now. That was a long time ago.”

Anton looked to the packs filled with magical tomes. “I think it’s about time that we actually started to understand our magic. Mine might be a little too dangerous to practice on The Snowberry. We should head back to Atros.”

“Sounds good.” Verona chuckled. “Won’t they be surprised when they see us? And we can actually have some fresh food, rather than all this preserved stuff.”

Kal shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Once you get over the taste.”

“Taste is important,” Verona stated adamantly. “Otherwise I’d be just eating those hard biscuits. They taste like dirt but Wilford said they don’t rot. It’s no wonder they have it.”

“They can eat it so damn quickly.” Anton sighed, rising from the bed. “It’s like I’m eating rocks half the time. I’ll go check with the others if you three can set up the portal.”

The adjacent room held the inactive portal, the pack containing the stones had a protection prayer cast over it. No sailor had dared come to this level but there was better to be prepared.

Anton climbed the wooden stairs, the sun and wind on his face. The Snowberry had just left the port as sailors, assisted by Dwarves and Dark Elves, hoisted sails and shouted colourful words to one another. At the prow Anton found Wilford speaking with Umikgruid and Ceccitol.

“Anton.” Wilford bowed his head slightly. “Was your small journey a success?”

Anton scratched his head “You could say that. I don’t know if we’ll ever be coming back this way.”

“You did look a little upset,” Ceccitol smiled bitterly. “We tried to talk to you but you weren’t listening.”

“You said something? Sorry, we were a little distracted.”

“But you’re back now.” Umikgruid laughed triumphantly. “With a few extra packs too. Don’t think Dwarven eyes aren’t sharp just because we’re short.”

I honestly have no idea why anyone would think that.

“We did. And that’s kind of why I wanted to speak with you both.”

“Before you go any further,” Wilford interjected. “Do we have our next destination? We can head to open sea but I’d like to not waste daylight.”

“What’s the closest Seocurian port?”

Wilford’s face flattened. He knew their intent to purchase, but not their true purpose. “Sébo. It’ll take some time to reach though. We have all of Graterious to cross first.”

“Make that our destination. As soon as possible.”

“I’ll tell the sailors.” Wilford bowed his head again and left.

Ceccitol waited for Wilford to leave. “So long as it’s on the way to The Shadow Isles I’m not really concerned.”

“Actually, I was wondering if you, or any of your people, wanted to return to Atros for a while. Stretch your legs and get off the boat. Maybe have some hot fresh food.”

“The Dark Elves and I will stay with the ship. Just in case something happens. Even if we do not survive our homes are still under threat.”

“I think Wilford said the only thing you might have to worry about are pirates. But we didn’t meet any on the way south.”

“A stray arrow is still dangerous,” Ceccitol spoke adamantly. “And if they disrupt your portal then we will have come all this way for nothing.”

“Right…Umikgruid?”

“I don’t have a need. But some husbands are missing their wives, if you understanding my meaning. Dwarves tend to group together no matter what so it’s always on their minds. I don’t think it’s a real problem but I’m sure they would appreciate it.”

“Have them meet us outside our rooms right away,” Anton turned to leave. “We’ll be back tonight.”

Barely a minute later and a dozen Dwarves had assembled. Each held an expectant look, they were about to see their loved ones separated by hundreds of miles with but a few steps. Kal donned her mask just in case a sailor walked by. Cetina stopped anyone from taking the first step, taking that honour for herself. She returned a moment later, dizzy and grasping the side of her head but otherwise fine.

Anton emerged back in Atros, surrounded by the familiar sight of the interior of an Atros barn. It was mostly deserted, barring five heavily armed guards waiting against a wall.

“Ugh…" Verona held her head like Cetina. “That portal’s still no good.”

“I tried to fix it.” Anton held Kal. She suffered worse than anyone else, though she recovered quickly with his gentle caress. “But I think it’s on our end. Maybe this is something finally out of Tethra’s reach.”

“You said she can’t bring back the dead,” Cetina said softly.

“Not giving someone a headache shouldn’t be that hard.” Anton patted the pack hanging from his shoulder. “Hopefully this will give some much-needed answers.”

The Dwarves staggered off the portal. The guards moved forward and helped as best they could. Though Anton presumed that the Dwarves could be a stubborn bunch they didn’t begrudge a helping hand. When they were better they looked to Anton for instructions.

“I don’t know where the other Dwarves are…”

“Currently they are in the Stone and Lumber yards.” A guard replied. “At least they were a while ago.”

“That’ll be your best bet.” Anton turned back to the Dwarves. “Now, we’ll be leaving sometime tonight. I think you all know what that means.”

The Dwarves nodded very seriously. Cetina raised her hand to question but she hesitated and it slowly dropped. She understood. The guards allowed the Dwarves to leave and held the door open. Anton stopped as he passed through.

“I’m going to leave the portal open. So don’t be too alarmed if you see some more Dwarves or Dark Elves pass through. If you see humans capture them. They don’t know what’s happening here.”

The guards nodded once. Anton smiled as he gently shut the door and breathed in the smells of Atros. It was still mostly fresh air but already there was an underlay of civilisation; of burning wood, food, water and the general smell of people.

“Where too, husband?” Verona chuckled slyly, turning to face them with Luna held securely in her arms. “Where are we going to finally learn how to use our magic? Our wonderful home or the open grasslands, with only the gentle rustling of the grass against the wind to interrupt our thoughts?”

“You’ve gotten a little playful.” Anton kissed Verona, quickly but deeply. He caught Cetina looking, almost a little jealous of the expression Verona held. “But I don’t think our home is a good idea. Soon we’ll actually be able to have stuff in there. Like your feathers.”

“I’d hate for that to burn.” Verona mused.

“Did you bring that with you?” Kal asked, looking around as she removed her mask.

“I left it on the ship.” Verona chuckled nervously. “I’d die of embarrassment if someone saw me making it.”

Anton frowned. “I don’t see why. It’s impressive and downright beautiful. If you said that a whole bunch of women might get envious then I’d understand.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment but I’m going to take it as one.” Verona laughed. “What about the Principle Magic books, or whatever Ferula called them?”

Kal slapped a large pack hanging off her shoulder.

“Let’s go.” Anton slung his pack higher. He offered to take Kal’s but she refused. “We’ll talk to everyone else once we’re done.”

As they moved through the streets of Atros many villagers, old and new, human and Beast-kin, looked surprised to see them. While they knew there was some way Anton could quickly travel back to Atros it must have still been quite a shock. Atros itself was showing signs of changes. Buildings were continuing to rise, many inside the central ring were double story’s or well on their way. The gates were the most affected. Originally they were little more than large wooden rough constructs reinforced by the exceptionally hard stone from the Earth Towers of the nearby lake. The jagged brown flat stone, haphazardly thrown onto the gate like a jigsaw had been cut into interlocking rectangular shapes and fastened more securely. Anton stopped and tried to pull a panel loose. It didn’t budge. There weren’t even gaps large enough to clamber up, enough for Anton to get the very tips of his fingernails around the edges but that was all. The Dwarves craftsmanship was utterly outstanding. Other parts of Atros had undergone a significant upgrade too. Though Zac tried his hardest everything just seemed more straight and orderly. The once slight meander in the street had disappeared and the buildings too no longer bowed or leant at strange angles, everything was rigid and square. Anton knew it was impossible for ten Dwarves to do this much but Zac was clearly listening to them, a good sign for Atros’s future.

Dwarves buzzed around one another in the Stone and Lumberyard, husband and wife chatted and embraced one another as if they had been separated for years. Anton passed them by, this was their time, and spied Zac near his workshop. Zac appeared only moderately surprised, spared him a wave, and continued his work.

They exited the last ring of Atros to find more work underway. Small marker sticks were laid out across the grass indicating the next phase of expansion. However, these were not going to add another ring to Atros. Rather a giant square.

“The circle was only to save on stones,” Anton mumbled softly. “But I suppose squares are far more efficient in the long run.”

“What’s that?” Verona looked up with a questioning brow.

“The Dwarves are streamlining Atros’s future development. Much easier to organise things in a square than a ring. This way everything’s much simpler.”

“Explain it to us on the way.” Verona smiled. “Mainly for me, probably.”

Several small depressions lay in the wheat fields to the south of Atros, the stalks all grew to the same length irrespective of the ground level. These were all the remained of the Bone Fields, once a dumping ground of all waste of Atros. Far beyond those Anton saw hundreds of small dimples scattering the ground. The Thumper Fields, home to some very large and ferocious rabbits. Thankfully they didn’t leave their nests for seemingly anything and had no intention of attacking unless something intruded upon their territory. Eventually they would need to be dealt with as Atros continued to grow but for now they were but a curiosity.

“I’ll stay on watch.” Cetina drew her sword and planted the tip lightly into the ground. “Since you three will probably be distracted.”

“You make it sound like we’re going to have a tumble right here.” Anton teased.

The tiniest hint of red crept up Cetina’s neck, Kal sighed and shook her head while Verona laughed and gently nudged his shoulder. Cetina recovered herself while they sat down and Anton distributed the books. Kal took Tethra’s book while Anton had to choose between Esperit’s and Stratos’s.

I don’t think it really matters. So…Go with the one of the left?

The dark purple and blue leather bound book lay on his left. Anton shrugged lightly and opened Stratos’s book. While most paper in this world was either animal hide or a very rough imitation of the stark white, smooth paper Anton knew from Earth, this was very close. Though wrinkled and distorted from time and moisture the books and the pages within were of a very high quality. Whoever made this really wanted to show off how.

We didn’t ask Ferula where these came from. Perhaps it was best not to ask. But now that we’ve got them we’re in a much better position than before. Best have someone copy these books for safety. I wonder if that means we’re going to make some sort of monks transcribing literature? I know the printing press is far away for us yet…Perhaps the Dwarves have something like that?

Anton pulled himself back to the present. While he had been staring blankly at the first page Verona and especially Kal were devouring the words in front of them. While Kal’s eyes scanned the pages at a truly incredible pace Verona’s lips moved in accordance with a finger tracing the sentences. The first page was simply a drawing of Stratos’s Glyph, identical to the small symbol on Anton’s hand and Jocelyn’s back. It looked more like Jocelyn’s than his. Recalling that he was the oddity, normally someone could only receive one Glyph at a time, he pressed on. The next several pages detailed who Stratos was a god. Very little could be gleaned from its pages. It lavished on great praise and exuberant words but there was little substance. Near the end, a small list emerged detailing who Stratos liked and disliked. Anton wasn’t that surprised by the list, Gods and Demi-gods that governed the skies and seas were his friends, those of the earth he generally disliked. Everyone else was heaped into the neutral list, such as Esperit and Jira. Anton spotted Nithroel’s name amongst the neutrals alongside Tethra. Those two were arranged oddly, the three lists were arranged alphabetically but theirs were not even though there were two neutral gods that should have been in-between.

Strange…Very Strange.

Anton checked Esperit’s book. It was arranged exactly like Stratos’s, he thanked whoever thought these books should be standardised, and so too were Nithroel and Tethra’s names.

Something once existed between you two, something to warrant this special exception. And now she wants your death. What did you do, Tethra?

Without answers and the unlikelihood of an explanation from Tethra, he continued with his reading. Several pages were given to controlling mana, identical to Esperit’s book. Thankfully Anton had already worked it out, at least to a beginner’s level. The next double page elicited a groan from Anton. The pages had two large pictures detailing a humanoid figure raising a small sphere above his hand, the other a straight line. Beneath that was another diagram, showing the resulting devastation from a lightning bomb and bolt respectively. Strangely the book used Goblins to detail potential damage. These lightning bombs could only take out one, though very effectively given the drawing while the lightning bolt required two. The words at the top gave him no small measure of embarrassment.

“Baseline Glyph magic manipulation. Practical applications.” Anton mumbled aloud. He flicked ahead and groaned even louder. “Next is called Basic Magic…Was I really that bad? Like I’m a baby that can’t even crawl.”

“It’s got us this far.” Kal placed a clawed finger onto the page to hold her position. “And for that, I will always be grateful.”

Anton kissed Kal, focusing on her ear. She gently swatted him away but held a faint smile.

“I would have thought I was a little better than that.” Anton returned to his book. “If an actual Glyph user saw me they’d be laughing, acting like my below basic magic was any good.”

Cetina stepped around and leant down to peer over his shoulder. “Your magic is stronger than that.” She pointed an armoured glove to the pages. “They might laugh at first, but not when they see what you can do.”

“I certainly hope you’re right, Cetina.”

Several scribbles had been notched in the corners of the pages. While several where illegible he could just make out little hints and clues left behind by previous holders of the book. Unfortunately, since he already knew how to use this magic they weren’t very helpful.

“Swimming?” Kal asked softly.

“What’s that?”

Kal tapped her book. “It says here that many prospective Glyph Mages incorporate swimming into their training. I…I don’t understand why.”

“I think that it has a lot to do with how we feel the mana within our bodies.” Anton waved his hand through the air. “It feels like I’m pushing my hand through water that’s not there. A heaviness, yet it does nothing to impede my movement. For a beginner, it would be easier to explain it after a dip in the water.”

Verona hummed. “I kind of does feel like that. Speaking of which, when we’re done we need to talk to the Dwarves about the Bath-house. And a private one for us.”

Anton nodded. He would love a proper bath, one powered by hot-stones where they could all simply slide in and relax with two wet and beautiful women.

Focus. Focus on this now.

The next diagrams detailed another type of magic, one of which he recognised. A small figure held a ring of mana above his head before pushing it over his target horde of Goblins. He dropped his hands and the lightning ring burst into life, sending great rains of lightning bolts down onto his targets.

At least I understand that one. Thanks, Esperit. That was my one and only freebie.

The other drawing formed the mana into a octahedron before being thrown like a lightning bomb. Unlike the weaker lightning bomb, this killed twenty Goblins in a single explosion. Given his own power, this would be extremely dangerous. Beneath that were a mage attempting to form a cube and a triangular based pyramid with large crosses covering the drawing. Below that lay a note, explaining these shapes would reform into a sphere, but no explanation why the octahedron would not.

Anton laid down the book and stepped forward. The girls stopped reading, Kal’s hand slowly reached for her bow resting at her side while Cetina gripped her sword’s pommel.

“I want to test something out.” Anton raised his hands. “It might get a little loud.”

Kal allowed the book to rest in her legs while covering her sensitive Beast-kin ears. Verona looked like she wanted to do it but held herself back. Instead, she called over Luna, eagerly awaiting the chance to be petted, and began to gently stroke her.

Like the book said. Make a octahedron and release it some distance away. Surely it can’t be that hard.

Anton focused on his mana. Since he was only accustomed to creating spheres and the occasional ring it was quite difficult to form the mana into the correct shape. The moment he took his attention away from one side the mana bulged out to try and reform into a sphere. Eventually, he managed a rough shape and brought it into being some distance away. Anton expected it to explode almost instantly but it emerged from the ether as a rough and violently jittering octahedron.

“That’s cool.” Verona chuckled. “But why not just make a ball again?”

“If it’s more advanced than the pre-beginner magic…” Kal scrunched her ears tight in readiness.

Anton pushed the lightning octahedron away. It moved considerably slower than the lightning bomb and took far more effort. It took considerable effort just to maintain its rough shape. The lightning magic constantly pushed against his control to reform itself into a sphere. As it neared the same range as the lightning bombs the arcing bolts of lightning grew more and more violent.

“Everyone cover their ears. This could get quite noisy.”

The girls followed his words. Luna didn’t, obviously, so Verona buried her head into her stomach. Luna didn’t understand as her small white tail flicked about happily.

Anton released the magic. For a moment he thought it would simply transform back a sphere before exploding. Thankfully it retained its shape, but none were prepared for the violence of the explosion. The octahedron was close to the ground before it detonated. Great clods of dirt and grass flew in all directions alongside the deafening explosion and blinding flash of light. Anton’s eyes soon recovered though his ears still rang. He glanced back to see the girls fine but in some amount of pain from the noise. Luna buried her head as deep as physically possible while her tail had curled between her legs.

“Impressive.” Anton smiled at them. “What do you think of that?”

Verona brushed the dirt from her hair and looked at the large crater, much larger than several tethered lightning bombs detonated at once.

“If we had that back in Qaiviel, I don’t know if we even would have made it to Nonbur’n, or whatever it’s called.” Verona laughed. “That would have taken out their army no problem. Though...You wouldn’t have Kal on your left arm if you didn’t.”

“I think I still would have.” Anton smiled. “You pushed for it and Kal is a very beautiful girl.”

Kal sighed. “Focus, you two. I can’t be the only sensible one in all this.”

“Cetina’s sensible,” Verona said offhandedly.

“In all seriousness.” Anton approached the edge of the crater. “This is incredible. And to think this is still beginner magic.” Anton clapped his hands excitedly. “A form of area attack to deal with mobs getting close, though I’m sure they’re not supposed to be this dangerous. I wonder what the other two books have.”

Verona smiled wickedly. “Last time I saw you this happy you were about to bed a new girl.” An eye shot to Cetina, though she still looked at the crater.

Anton sat back down, brushed away the chunks of dirt, and flicked the pages to the next image set. This was a wave of magic, like a whipped sheet of cloth, creating a rolling wave of lightning several meters high capable of shocking everything in its path. It didn’t kill the target but left them immobilised for some time, easy prey for normal soldiers or smaller and less demanding magic. The next drawing was of a twin helix that threw up two strange twirling lines of magic, the notes on the margins noted this wasn’t of much use.

I guess not everything is useful. In the just right circumstances it could be effective. I just have no idea when or how.

The next few pages showed a lance, a large and thick javelin of magic, that could be thrown and would bore its way through multiple targets. The next detailed a small sheath of magics wrapped around the mage's hands that acted as a blade. How it didn’t explode on contact, like most of Anton’s current magic, was still unknown. He didn’t want his fingers blown off just yet. There were many variations, some designed to show off the skill of the mage, but all performed roughly the same action. Another was of a whip but this had dubious use for lightning, as it had a tendency to explode, effectively a more complicated alternative to the lightning bolt. The fire version worked exactly as intended but would obviously burn the target while restricting their movement. Warnings were abound, constantly reiterating the dangers of incorrectly forming magic and how some shapes simply didn’t do anything and reverted back to the closest spherical magic, like creating cubes or pyramids.

A final note mentioned that these were just some of the variations of magic available, telling the reader to seek out other teachers and books. Unfortunately they only had these books and Ferula clearly had connections and knowledge they did not. The libraries of the Graterious Royal Academy might have more of what they seek.

Anton flicked ahead and found what he needed to know the most.

Defensive magic.

He couldn’t always rely on the girls for defence or a first strike to kill the enemy. The Acolyte Strega Witches demonstrated how important such magic was. There were two distinct methods to create a magical shield. One formed the mana in a flat circular disk. The other was like a net surrounding the mage, creating a semi-sphere similar to what the Strega Witches made.

“Let’s give the first one a go,” Anton mumbled.

After carefully placing the book down he moved some meters away and focused his mana once again. His quick practice with the octahedron paid immediate dividends. The disk emerged from the ether as a shimmering wall of lightning. Unlike most of his lightning magic, this was far more stable and calm, the lightning didn’t arc off nor did it jitter and appear to be a few moments away from self-destruction. Moving the shield took considerable effort and concentration. When it was but a meter away it began to quiver and shake violently, already its maximum range had been reached. He withdrew the magic before reforming it again, much larger this time, large enough to cover his body. With only a slight increase in mana consumption, Anton was happy with what he had made.

“Verona? Can you throw a shard at this? See if it works.”

“Okay.” Verona slammed the book close, she hadn’t read that far yet. “But, I’ll need someone’s help.”

Kal offered her hand.

“Thanks.”

Kal smiled as the wound healed before them. Verona flung a shard towards the lightning shield. It exploded upon contact, tiny shards flew in all direction before returning to liquid. The lightning shield remained untouched.

Verona deactivated her power. “I can’t feel the blood anymore. It’s just gone, like when the Ghlyirl touched the blood.”

Verona threw a small rock at the shield. This too crackled and disintegrated, Anton’s shield took a slight burst of mana, probably to recover, but retained its shape and integrity.

“So I can’t just keep it up without draining all my mana. I’ll get Shawn or Jocelyn to try some of their magic later. I don’t want Kal to fire an enchanted arrow at the shield, just in case it explodes in my face. Or if it just slips through.”

Kal chuckled and continued her reading. Verona returned to her original position while Anton tried to create the net magic. Not over himself, just in case, but some distance away. This proved to be extremely difficult. As he made a square of the magical net and moved onto the next section the previous would fall apart. After several minutes he had a small net ready. A near identical copy of the Strega Witches defensive shield, this time light blue instead of green, emerged from the ether. Verona threw a blood shard. The lightning flared bright and destroyed the shards.

“I don’t see what the point is of making the net compared to the shield.” Verona mused. “Is it harder?”

“Much harder. Especially in a battle. Much easier to just throw up the shield. But…Wait a second.”

Anton remembered the poor little Strega girl burned to a crisp. He fired a lightning bolt through the net. It flew through but somewhat diminished. The flat lightning shield completely blocked his attack.

“Now I understand.” Anton returned to his position. “That’ll come really in handy.”

The rest of the book was filled with techniques to maximise mana reserves and restoration through a mixture of herbs, potions and exercise. They were pretty simple. The last quarter of the book detailed something that would be extremely useful. Effigies.

“Ferula was telling the truth about the effigies.” Anton mused. “Some are wood and others metal, but the little notes say that metals are better for Stratos…Conducting electricity. What about Esperit’s? Oh. Wood. Right. And volcanic rocks too.”

“Tethra?” Verona idly asked. “Mine’s bone, by the way. Better than a slab of meat I suppose.”

“Silver,” Kal said. “But it doesn’t change much depending upon the material. Tethra’s could easily be made from wood.”

“All those little percentages add up,” Anton said.

The effigy consisted of a carving of the Glyph of the respective god. Where things really mattered were the small markings surrounding the central glyph. Pages upon pages were dedicated to intricately demonstrate how precise the swirling patterns had to be carved out. The little notes complained about their complexity and the finesse required, others praising a slight change with a noticeable boost in power. But the most important piece lay at the end. Each Effigy had to be crafted by hand. Magic couldn’t be used in their creation, even Tethra couldn’t cut this corner. And this was written back when she had a real presence.

“Kal? Any chance that you can show us some woodworking?”

“Of course.” Kal twirled the ornamental blade in her hand. “I can’t sew but I can do that.”

Time passed slowly as they tried to carve some rough effigies. These were crude and held many incorrect cuts and breaks. When they were finished Anton tested a lightning bomb with and without the effigy. It did indeed use less mana, not that much but noticeable.

I’d say about ten percent. And that’s with this rough attempt. Still, every bit counts.

When Anton had three Effigies he moved onto the last section of the book. Near the end was a slight blurb about the second book, the Intermediate tomes. They mentioned summoning creatures. Anton recalled the small fire imp, and how powerful it was. Before moving on that Anton quickly skimmed over Esperit’s book. It followed Stratos’s to a very high degree, some of the magics were a little different but essentially it followed the same rules. The major difference was the instructions on how to use the magic; Esperit’s was far slower and more devastating over time while Stratos’s was instantaneous in almost all aspects, for better or for worse. Anton held the impression that the books were supplementary material to the work of teachers.

“I’m going to do a little more practice.” Anton closed both books and gently patted their covers. “So it might get a little loud for a bit.”

“When you’re using the lightning could you tell me?” Kal raised an aqua brow.

Anton gave a nod and prepared to practice. The girls continued their duties in silence while Anton tried to form the magic as best he could, both fire and lightning. It took some time to get right but he had felt he had a decent level of control when his mana began to run low.

“This land isn’t going to be used for a little while.” Anton frowned at the smouldering grass and blackened dirt.

Verona laughed. “I don’t think so. But I think we’re going to need someone to fill in the holes.”

She pointed at the craters left behind by the octahedron lightning bombs and deep scorch marks left by the fire counterparts. The waves of magic hadn’t left the same levels of destruction but had been covered a much larger area. Compared to the drawings his damage output was higher, something Anton expected, but he wondered if it would kill something as large as a human rather than gravely wound them.

“I think it’ll be good strength training for the guards.” Cetina continued to scan the horizon.

Verona laughed. “Shovelling dirt would be a good way to punish tardy soldiers.”

“Did we have a Principle Magic tome on Earth Magic?” Anton asked as he returned to his place.

“We do,” Kal rummaged through the pack. “It has a brown cover, but I know it’s there. None of us can use that type of magic.”

“Least of all me,” Cetina grumbled.

“We’ll have a look at them once we’re done here.” Anton sighed as his rear hit the hard ground. “How are you two going?”

“Okay.” Verona had almost reached the middle point. “This is talking about how to control my magic. Seems pretty simple. Nothing much I haven’t managed to work out myself. But,” Verona perked up and thrust the book into his lap. “But one of the later techniques is to push the hardened blood through the ground. And it says, right here, that it’s not something easy to do.” Verona puffed out her generous chest. “And I did it on my first try too!”

Anton ruffled her hair before kissing her forehead. “Well done, Verona. The most skilled Blood Berserker in all of Atros.”

Verona laughed. “I know, I know. But I’m still working on it.” She flipped through the previous pages. “The other stuff is how to move the blood shards and harden it…Or make it a liquid.” Verona tapped on a drawing detailing liquid blood seeping through clothes before hardening. “It says here, at least I think it does, that I can soak my clothes in blood to make it harder. Or to attack someone else that gets too close.” She looked at him with curious eyes. “Do you think that’s even a good idea?”

“It would be pretty powerful. Spikes of blood erupting from your armour without even a flick of your wrist.” Anton saw a drawing in bright red, warning of the dangers of ingesting blood whilst the Blood Berserker power is active. “I’m worried about you drinking some blood in the heat of battle.”

Verona scratched her head. “That’s what I thought. And I really don’t want you to use your powers to keep my mouth closed. If it gets in me…”

Anton rubbed her head and pulled her close again. She took advantage of the situation and nuzzled deep into his shoulder.

“But, Verona, all these drawings show only a little bit of blood.” The other two girls crowded closer to the book. “It has a sword coated in blood, but only the edges. And someone with a large Glyph only has three small shards.”

“They don’t have it covering every inch of their body.” Verona flicked open her chest piece to reveal the marks covering half of her white skin. “I guess that makes me as strong as you then?”

Verona chuckled. “The rest of the book has other ways to increase my strength. Like the blood disk, there’s something about that. Just throw it and let it go.”

“Just let it smash through everything until you lose control of it.” Anton nodded. “But you lose that blood unless you get back into range.”

“Yeah. It says that as well. There’s also the hardened spheres that I can use to crush things, in case something can’t be cut. Oh! But there’s nothing about the umbrella thing you made me use. Nothing. So that’s something that just I have.”

Anton squeezed her shoulder and kissed her again. “Is there anything else in there?”

“Not really.” Verona took the book back. “I skimmed ahead, and there’s a lot more writing. I think it’s telling me how to increase my control over the blood. Some training stuff, stuff that I sort of stumbled upon when I was playing with the blood.” Verona sighed and smiled bitterly. “I hate to say it Anton but there’s not a lot for me in this book. Is there anything in your books about tethering, or whatever you called it?”

“Nothing. And I haven’t checked the Intermediate books yet. Perhaps it’s in the Advanced."

“Would it be strange to stumble upon something like that?” Kal asked.

“I have absolutely no idea.” Anton shrugged. “I did get help from Esperit for the ring magic. So maybe one of them nudged me towards that.”

“There’s nothing about that in this book either,” Kal said. “But I’ve learned a lot from mine.”

Anton patted his leg. Kal smiled and placed the book on his lap for everyone to see.

“There’s a lot more writing in Tethra’s book compared to the others.” Kal began. “But it explains that, yes, if you speak the prayer aloud it decreases its mana usage. There’s a note in the margin saying that it also allows you to cast more powerful prayers, though another one underneath it saying that’s only because the mana usage is less, not that the prayer grows in strength.”

“Right.”

“But it says that speaking it in your mind, which is what I think you’ve done most of the time, means that no one knows what you’re doing.” Kal idly scratched the tip of her ear. “So that can be an advantage in combat, heal yourself a bit and no one would really know.”

“And what about strength?” Anton asked. “Physical or magical strength?”

“Nothing.” Kal sighed. “At least in this one. Near the end, it has something about the stones that you made; hot and cold stones, some water stuff and a healing stone. They don’t actually call them stones but artefacts. And it says they are extremely vulnerable to Principle Magic, though it doesn’t say how. There’s a note here complaining about pranks from some sort of Principle Mage school. Sounds pretty serious though. Other than that bit most of this book is about learning how to cast simple prayers, mostly to do with healing, and how to make them the most effective for the mana usage. I think those are going to be in the other books.”

“Shame it took so long to make the Hot and Cold Stones.” Verona sighed. “I would have loved to have hot water to wash myself before Porswea. I didn’t even know what it was like before then.”

Anton smiled. “Just like everyone else.” He turned towards where the Bathhouse lay. “Haven’t heard anything bad about that yet. Or anyone asking for more.”

“Give it time.” Verona chuckled. “It’s kind of hard for people to approach you for something like that.”

“There are some other things.” Kal continued. “The prayer must be spoken aloud to reduce the cost of mana, which you already found out, but it also says that the more sentences spoken reduces the cost again.”

“But delays it. Which would be bad for a fatal wound.”

“Yes. But there’s a limit. It says by ten percent maximum per additional sentence up to a maximum of fifty. Doesn’t say how long the sentence needs to be or what needs to be said, some of the markings say they tried to understand but failed. There’s a large section here about asking the prayer to heal someone over several days. It says that it takes a fraction of the mana to cast as restoring someone instantly.”

“We were usually in a life and death situation.” Anton mused. “A few more people, from the early days, would still be alive if I’d known that.”

“It doesn’t say how much but it appears that’s the way that most people were healed by Tethra’s magic. They’d got to a temple and spend up to ten to twenty days to be fully healed.” Kal frowned at the page. “Someone’s complaining about the high price Tethra’s followers are charging and how it’s immoral.”

“Another reason why people would grow to hate Tethra’s followers.” Anton folded his arms. “Withholding help to make money would certainly piss me off.”

“Yeah…” Kal tapped the page. “But in her book?”

“Someone pure of heart complaining about the state of things.” Anton offered.

Kal glumly nodded. “This one seems interesting. A large stone in a body of water than slowly restores mana.”

“A Mana Bath?” Anton raised a brow. “Now that sounds really useful.”

“The way…” Kal rubbed her brow. “The way they talk about them it sounds like there’s one in every city. But we’ve never seen one before. And it’s not like we weren’t going to the expensive areas.”

“We didn’t exactly look for them either.” Verona offered.

Anton nodded lightly. “True. But this book was probably written during the height of the United Kingdom. And it sounds like everything has regressed considerably since then. Principle Mages probably destroyed them.”

Verona laughed. “After they got rid of the Beast-kin there was no fluffiness to hold it all together.”

“I…Anyway, I think that we should do that as soon as we get a private bath. Not just some puddle that I throw a stone into.”

“I’m sure the Dwarves could do it,” Verona said. “But I still want a garden. That’s something we need to work on too. Actually getting our house in order.”

“We’ll see if we can fit it in.” Anton ruffled her hair again. “Though it might be a bit low on priorities. We’d need to house all the people we’d be displacing and that’s not easy. To do or explain. Anything else in that book, Kal?”

“Just examples of what prayers are useful. There are many to deal with healing specific ailments, sicknesses, and wounds. Healing a small cut is a lot easier than healing the whole body.”

“I think Tethra’s been covering for me. Again.” Anton smiled. “But all this will still help.”

Kal frowned. “There is one bit here, right at the end of the section on artefacts using Earth Mana.”

“Other than it comes from the ground.” Anton tapped his boot. “But that’s really only what Bertram’s told me.”

“Look at this.” Kal moved the book to Anton’s lap. “If more than twenty units worth of Earth Mana are taken from per square furlong of un-noded ground the artefacts will stop working and will attract monsters: Goblins, Ghlotsm, Sorik, Atra and Yitll in ever greater numbers until the imbalance is rectified”

“I have no idea what those last three are.”

No one had an idea.

“I take a way to measure Earth Mana isn’t in that book?”

“No. Neither how much you can take when the land is noded. Or how you node an area.”

“We’ll ask Ferula. See what she has to say.”

“That’s really it for this book. There’s a lot to go over but nothing too shocking.”

“Hopefully the other books have more information. Wherever they are. If Ferula can’t find them I don’t hold out much hope that any still even exist.”

“I don’t think you could get them in Bebbezzar either,” Cetina said. “But they might exist in other countries. I think there are some southern countries, across the sea, which still practice that type of magic. They might have the books you want.”

“Now that’s a really long way off.” Anton shrugged again. “Still, it’s good that we have these. The new mages will like them a lot. Nothing about forging with magic though.”

“That definitely sounds like it’s something above beginner.” Kal chuckled.

“Yeah. I’m going to have a look at the intermediate book now. It talks a lot about summoning creatures. Like that little fire imp we saw. If I can summon a whole bunch of them our battles will get even easier.”

“Poor girl,” Verona said.

Anton didn’t respond as he opened Esperit’s Intermediate book. The first page came with a warning, a very large warning impossible to miss. The next two pages reiterated the same warning.

“Summons are extremely dangerous.” Anton read aloud. “If the summoning is imperfect the magic used on the summon will run rampant within the caster, severely damaging their ability to use magic for some time. Such damage could destroy the ability to use magic entirely.”

“Can Tethra fix that?” Verona looked at Kal. “If they had this warning, and Tethra was a god that was worshipped back then maybe not. Maybe it’s like your tail thing. Once it’s done then that’s it.”

“It gets worse. In rare cases, the summoning can partially fail. Abominations, mutations caused by uncontrolled magic, are formed. Abominations are uncontrollable and much stronger than the intended summon. Great care must always be taken when trying to perform summoning. It is not advisable to summon during stressful moments.”

“Sounds scary.” Verona smiled.

“But it might not all be that bad.” Anton mused. “Creating these Abominations might be useful. In the right circumstances. Letting one lose in the enemy might be very effective, but I don’t know if they’d try and target the summoner first. And do they need the summoner after they’ve killed them? It doesn’t say here but I don’t want to find out firsthand. Anyway, let’s see what it has to say.”

Thankfully the book had helpful diagrams for the first summon. The magic form was a half sphere with a ring on the same plane. On the opposite page lay another drawing of a small imp-like creature, similar to the creature summoned by the Fire Mage in Koumore but slightly smaller and more feral. Like the Principle Mage’s summon the fire imp wielded a single blade, this slightly smaller, and a very sharp set of flaming claws.

“A level one summon.” Anton followed the line with his finger. “Rotate the ring around the half sphere ten times along the same axis without losing form or touching one another. If it does backlash will occur. Or I’ll summon an Abomination.”

“Does that mean you also get injured by the magical backlash if you create the Abomination?” Kal asked. “Do you suffer both or just the one?”

“Um…” Anton flicked through the warnings. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say explicitly so but I’m going to presume it does. It also says I can pour magic into the half sphere to make it easier…But it doesn’t say how. I’ll hold off on that for now. Verona? Do you want to have some blood? Just in case this goes wrong?”

“You’re going to try now?” Verona drew her blade.

“Why not?” Anton rose and took several paces forward. “Gotta’ try sometime, right?”

Verona readied herself, keeping the blood shards over her shoulders. Cetina held her sword tight. Anton presumed that a level one summon wouldn’t be too dangerous and Cetina would probably easily cut it down. If the imp’s blood didn’t melt her sword or the blood burn her again.

At least this time it won’t be infested with Ghlyirl.

Anton forced the mana into the half sphere of fire magic. That alone was difficult enough. The moment he took attention away it tried to bulge back into a sphere. He didn’t want his first experience to be an Abomination. After nearly a minute he could divide his attention while maintaining its shape. Next came the ring. While Anton had often created multiple mana creations at once all had been simple shapes and never had to interact with one another let alone so close. Slowly Anton began to spin the ring. Keeping everything together and in the correct position was disorienting, to say the least. The rings began to shift and required his constant attention to maintain its form. With every rotation, the ring began to accelerate. When he pulled against it the ring began to deform and almost touched the semi-sphere. He poured a little mana into the centre. While the ring slowed considerably the gap between the two shrunk. He couldn’t expand the ring as it began to speed back up.

Once ten rotations had completed the ring snapped into place. A small circle of flame, surrounded by a single ring, emerged in the grass before him. Anton stepped back as a small creature emerged from the flame.

The flaming Imp, identical to the drawing, stood upright at almost two feet. Its red face, eyes glowing like a flickering flame, stared blankly at Anton. A stubby tail gently swayed back and forth.

“Is it yours?” Verona asked.

“I can feel something,” Anton replied. “There’s a connection. Extremely faint. A feeling in the back of my head.”

The fire Imp blinked once.

“Can…Does the book say anything about how to control it?”

Kal held the book aloft. “It says to control it with your thoughts but you’d need to control every action. Speaking aloud gives it some independence but allows an opponent to know what you are doing.”

“Just like with Tethra’s magic.”

Kal raised her hand. “It says the stronger the Summon the more likely it is to a rebel. If it does there is a chance it’ll take over the caster and try to …”

Kal looked at him worryingly, pointing to a warning diagram. This was far more explicit, an actual artist had drawn this. A flaming humanoid creature tried to claw its way from behind thick bars, a fusion of an Imp and a human.

“No wonder Principle Magic is favoured if that can happen.”

“There’s no way to undo it.” Kal’s finger traced the words underneath the ghastly picture. “That’s an inmate in the mental asylum wing of Brautarholt. Was once a student of the United Kingdom Academy of Glyph Magic until, oh, it was a woman, she fused with a level seven fire summon. She was unable to be saved and had to be killed but not after several winters of numerous experiments. Not even Tethra’s power could reverse it.

“So it references her in this book too?” Verona scratched her chin.

“Please don’t do that, Anton.” Kal smiled faintly. “I don’t want our husband to become a fire-creature thing.”

“I’ll definitely be careful then.” Anton chuckled. “Now let’s see what you can do little fella.”

Anton focused on the faint connection connecting him to the little Fire Imp. As he focused he felt a thought transmitted to his brain, not words but a questioning emotion. The Fire Imp tilted its head as he tugged on the tiny thread of thought. Anton wanted the creature to jump and so it did. Another thought to raise its hand and the creature obeyed. There wasn’t any resistance as it returned to its resting position.

“Run a hundred meters south then come back.”

The Imp ran to the south like a rabid dog, keeping the dagger in its hand as it scampered across the grass. Small puffs of smoke rose up as the flaming blade touched the singed grass, trailing into the air behind him. Anton didn’t have any direct control over the creature anymore and allowed it to continue.

When the creature came back Verona hesitantly stepped towards it.

“Does it think for itself now or is it just going to stand there?”

“Nothing right now. It’s like a loyal dog, simply waiting for an order. But that’s it.” Anton rubbed his beard. “I’d like to see how it’d fight."

“I wonder where the nearest Goblin nest is anyway,” Verona mumbled.

“It should be able to take on one at a time pretty easily. Certainly not a swarm, I don’t think it has a flame breath like the Principle version. But I think I can create quite a few more. It doesn’t say there’s a hard limit.”

Anton summoned another Fire Imp. He felt another thought strand linking to his mind. The Imps didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence, keeping their flaming eyes on Anton.

“So what does Stratos’s summon?”

Kal held the book for Anton. The magical construct required lightning magic and the semi-sphere core was a long diamond that slipped underneath the rotating ring. The summon was a small crow, though there wasn’t any colour to the image the wings appeared lighter than the rest of the body. Underneath the drawing, Anton saw a scribbled note.

“Fires small lightning bolts,” Anton said aloud. “Only one at a time but able to kill a Goblin with a single hit. Not bad...”

Verona laughed. “Seems like Goblins are just a unit of measurement back then.”

Kal frowned lightly. “If the United Kingdom was so powerful how come the Goblins still exist? If they could make things like Mana Baths and all this magic why aren’t the Goblins extinct?”

Anton opened his mouth, raised his hand but clenched it tight. He had no answer. Why were they still such a problem? Would they even be able to get rid of them in this land? Or was it possible to only reduce them to a more manageable level?

“Maybe an ancient library would hold the answers,” Anton said. “It’s a troubling thought. Now, let’s see what this crow is about.”

Anton formed the magic construct with the lightning attribute. This time the summoning circle emerged in the air. The Lightning Crow popped out of the blue and purple rippling disk. Once fully emerged it began to flap its wings and hovered two meters off the ground. Its wingtips and eyes glowed with rippling lightning. Otherwise, it looked like a normal crow, albeit somehow devoid of personality. It didn’t twitch or jitter, simply staring blankly at Anton while beating its wings.

“Let’s see what you can do. Fly where the Fire Imp ran to and come back.”

Without a word or squawk, the Lightning Crow sped off to the south. When it returned it stared at Anton with its empty lightning eyes.

“I can guess what the Fire Imps do, but I want you to fire as many lightning bolts into that crater in a minute.”

The Lightning Crow turned, its wing tips grew brighter before a strange field enveloped the creature. The field blinked away as a lightning bolt struck the dirt. It wasn’t as powerful as his but it threw up a respectable amount of dirt. Over the next minute, it fired twelve lightning bolts. When it was done the creature returned to his side. It looked a little depleted, its beak opened slightly. Through the faint connection, Anton felt it draw mana from him for a moment, not much but enough to notice.

“Verona. Kal.” Anton turned to the girls. “If you ever have to do this make sure you keep a reserve of mana. It just took some from me, I let it, but I don’t know what will happen if you’re out. If it’ll start taking your life in return or just fade away and leave you completely helpless.”

“I don’t think I’ll be summoning mine.” Verona tapped on her intermediate book. “These look really scary. People already have enough trouble with my powers, they don’t need to see this tearing through their enemies.”

The drawings were indeed horrific. They weren’t really creatures, rather an amalgamation of blood, flesh and bones jutting out at seemingly random directions. Instead of the mana requirements, it spoke of raw materials; the number of corpses and blood required and any materials that could be substituted.

“That’s horrifying. Especially that one.” Anton pointed to something that required twenty corpses worth of blood and muscle. A shambling forty legged centipede, arms with sharpened bones protruding in all directions. “Seems like Jira’s magic is closely related to necromancy.”

“Don’t say that,” Verona whined. “I already have enough problems with it. I don’t need to think about those zombies and ghouls anytime soon.”

“Yes…”

Anton scanned the southern horizon for any potential target. However, he found nothing, not even with his eye enhancement. He didn’t want to disturb the Thumpers, just in case, they were performing a good service for Atros. Atros was safe, for now at least. But that wouldn’t always be the case.

“Is there anything to bind a summon?” Anton asked. “Like a stone, gem or pillar? A tree would do, but I don’t want to tangle with Nithroel any more than I already have.”

Kal flicked through Stratos’s second book. Anton saw the creatures grow larger until the level six summon. Then it began to become more human until the tenth, a massive five-meter tall bird-man with a golden staff. Apparently, the number of times it had been successfully summoned could be counted on one hand. Every time it completely reversed failing battles and even wars almost by itself. When Anton saw the magical symbols required to summon it he understood why. Each level required an additional ring that needed to spin in the opposite direction, and each ring spun on the axis ninety degrees from the previous. His head spun trying to imagine controlling the magic.

Once Kal flicked past the summons it turned to methods to increase the strength of summons. By adding certain etchings to the rings the power of the summon could be increased significantly. However, they needed to be applied to both sides of the ring along the axis on which it spun.

Kal frowned as she tapped on a page near the end of the book. “It says that it can be done. But it needs a very specific crystal. And it says nothing else will work. And that it’s the same for every summon, regardless of the type of magic it is created from.”

“I’m guessing that Ferula had them hidden inside the pillars.” Anton mused. “The other two might have had theirs hidden in the swamp somewhere. It’s not like someone could just wade through and find it.”

Kal lowered the book. The crystal was the size of a hand, thanks to the crude drawing next to it, and slightly irregular in shape with eleven sides.

“It’s a crystal called Strohierite,” Kal spoke aloud. “Size determines how powerful a summon it can contain. A two inch stone can hold a level one summon, a four inch stone a level two and so on.”

“Any idea where we can get them?” Anton asked. “If not we’ll see if we can just make it ourselves.”

“You and your stones,” Verona mumbled.

Kal murmured something. “It says…nothing.” Kal sighed. “I think they kind of expected you to know someone when you were learning and they would know.”

“Oh.” Verona leant over the page. “What does that say?”

“It says…Oh.” Kal smiled. “The only place where a Strohierite large enough to contain a level ten summon is Eldfjall Trelleborg.” She lowered the book and frowned. “Does anyone know where that is?”

“No idea. But we’ll check the maps when we get back. Sounds like it might be in the Deweth Clans.” Anton shrugged lightly. “It’s got that sort of name. Have you or Cetina ever heard of a stone called that before?”

Kal shook her head. “I might have seen it but I wouldn’t have known what it was. This doesn’t even show what colour it is. It could be anything.”

“Alcanares might have it.” Cetina idly offered.

“Ferula gave us something extra in the pack.” Verona thrust her hand into the base of the bag. “Maybe she gave us some of them as a parting gift.”

Verona pulled out a small sack, it clunked and rattled. Twenty small stones lay inside, small yellow-brown stones barely two inches long.

“This is more than just a gift.” Kal murmured, placing the stone onto the page. “But should we be worried to use these?”

“Let me check.” Anton found nothing inside. They didn’t feel anything different from a normal rock, before more dull, if that was even possible.

“We shouldn’t waste them…” Anton looked at rough Tethra’s effigy lying on the ground next to the pack. “Unless we have the power to create them.”

Anton searched for an appropriate stone.

Verona found one first. After brushing away the dirt Anton took Tethra’s rough wooden effigy. Kal stopped him and pointed to the section on how to reduce the mana required. Anton followed the instructions, throwing praise to Tethra and asking a very specific prayer. However the prayer failed to work, it still took some mana from him but not a lot. While it may be possible it was still beyond him.

Maybe just my mana levels.

While the books had said nothing about working together it was a distinct possibility. How else could someone summon a level ten creature with such complexity? Anton took Kal’s hand and both held the stone with the other. However Anton felt the same slight use of mana as before. Either it was impossible to do this or they simply, still, didn't have enough mana.

"It was worth a try." Kal squeezed his hand. "We still have twenty, and I'm sure Ferula can tell us where to get more."

"Wouldn't it be cheating if we could make gold?" Verona took the stone, holding it close to her face.

“That would be cheating,” Anton said. “And if they could I could see why Tethra’s followers might not have been popular in the long run.”

“Free gold?” Verona raised a brow, Kal and Cetina didn’t understand.

“Imagine if everyone had a house made from gold. Would it be worth anything?”

Kal frowned. “They could make gold worthless.”

“I wouldn’t like to have them in my Kingdom.” Anton chuckled. “Unless they gave me a portion, which I doubt they would.”

Verona held Stratos’s book up for him.

“It says to put the summoning magic over the Strohierite.” Anton murmured aloud. “If the Strohierite is capable of containing the creature it will be absorbed and bound to the stone. If not the creature…Oh, of course. It’ll destroy the stone and become an Abomination. And I don’t exactly have enough mana for another. Enough to keep these things going but that’s it.”

Anton turned to the Lightning Crow, still waiting patiently.

“Fly to Atros and retrieve two Karak fruits from behind the Main Hall.”

The crow soared over the crops and over the city. Several guards ducked and pointed at the small bird flying over their heads. A guard pointed to them before shrugging dismissively when they realised the source.

“What range do those things have?” Anton gently took the book from Cetina’s hands. “Anything in the notes? Nothing…”

Anton heard a happy squawk as the Lightning Crow returned, a large pink fruit in its claws. It floated to Anton and dropped the fruit into his hands. There were a few marks where the claws and ripped into the flesh.

“Thank you.” Anton patted the Lightning Crow, passing the second to Kal. It appeared a little moved by his praise, somehow.

Anton recovered some of his magic. Enough to make another summon if he was careful.

“Another Lightning Crow would be best.” Anton placed the Strohierite on the ground. “At least it won’t set the whole place on fire.”

Cetina looked to Atros. “The wooden buildings will be a problem if Atros suffers another siege. It wouldn’t be too hard to start a firestorm, especially if the enemy has a Fire Mage. Or just lots of archers with fire arrows.”

“Something for the Dwarves,” Anton said. “Not that they don’t have enough on their plate.”

Anton motioned for the girls to back away. He created another lightning summon and directed it over the Strohierite. Something pulled his mana over the Strohierite, similar to the portal stones. Anton spun the ring ten times and the magic shrunk into the Strohierite. A blue-purple hue covered the stone as a new Lightning Crow emerged. Anton couldn’t feel anything from this creature, nor any mana drain.

“Fly to the south as far as you can then come back.”

The new Lightning Crow followed his order without question. After travelling almost a mile it froze in place before darting back.

“So that’s the limit.” Anton watched the Lightning Crow return and land on the Strohierite, while the other continued to hover above the Fire Imps.

“If you add these etchings to the rings you can increase the range.” Kal pointed to a page. “Doesn’t say how far though…Not even the little notes.”

Anton tossed Esperit’s Effigy into the air. “Given how this turned out I might need a bit more practice.”

Verona approached the patiently waiting summoned creatures. “Little Crow. Can you fly back there again?”

The Lightning Crow stared at Verona before glancing at Anton.

“It doesn’t want to play with me.” Verona pouted.

“Listen and follow Verona’s words.”

Verona lightly shrugged and repeated the order. This time the Lightning Crow obeyed.

“There we go.” Verona patted the crows head. It tilted its head and stared at her. “Oh. It tingles when I touch it.”

“We’ll get someone to place this on top of a pillar, something high up,” Anton said. He turned to the crow. “I want you to strike down every Goblin and Ghlotsm that gets within your maximum range.”

The Crow chirped happily and flapped its wings.

“Would Ferula have more of these stones?” Kal asked.

“We’ll see,” Anton said. “Though we’ll need to check them for any Strega magic.”

Cetina snarled.

“Maybe Wilford might know some black market gem dealer.” Anton smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to get back into that line of work. If-”

“If he isn’t already doing it behind your back,” Verona added softly. “He might have a lot of connections.”

He turned to the summoned creatures. “So, how do I send you guys back? I don’t exactly have much mana left.”

The three summons said nothing and continued to stare blankly.

“They should really include that near the beginning,” Anton mumbled as looked at the book again. “Let’s see at the front…Ah. Pull on the thread and try to release it beyond your body…That won’t just make them angry or go rogue. Will it?”

“I’m ready.” Verona hovered her blood shards over her head.

The threads were very faint, difficult to get an actual hold of, but he managed with one. When he released it a Fire Imp faded away into tiny embers that floated away. It didn’t appear distressed, neither did the others and simply accepted its fate. Anton proceeded to release the remaining two summons.

“Shame I didn’t get my mana back.” Anton looked to the Lightning Crow resting on the Strohierite. “Does it say how they gather mana? Because he isn’t taking anything from me.”

Kal flicked through the pages again. “It doesn’t say how Strohierite gathers mana. But it’s probably using Earth Mana so we can’t use too many, not that we know how much it’s using. There’s a scribble here saying don’t buy old ones or ones that have already been used. So…”

“No crappy ones. Got it.” Anton nodded. “Give us a couple of days and Atros should be very secure.” A frown crossed his face. “Ferula said that we should be very careful of Principle Mages, that they could undo our magic extremely easily. I remember seeing one of those etchings was to make the magic more resilient, probably to deal with them. How about those books on Principal Magic? I know we can’t use them yet but I want to have a look at least.”

Kal produced a book on Earth Magic. Anton’s mind brought up images of rock pellets hurtling at tremendous speed, walls of stone rising from the ground, giant pits opening and stone and mud golems charging through the enemy. The first several pages held warnings about misusing magic. Nothing about Glyph magic but many different warnings about the importance of controlling the magic correctly lest they be hurt or killed from the unstable magic. After that Anton felt his heart sank. The pages were filled with mathematical symbols and formula, intersecting with a schematic of an Earth Charm, with only a few diagrams to demonstrate what magic could actually be created.

“I can see why Glyph magic is so much easier,” Anton mumbled.

“Why?” Verona peered around his shoulder. “Oh. Yeah, there’s no way I can do anything like that. Do you even understand what’s being said there?”

“No. Well…No.” Anton tapped on the charm diagram. “I have no idea how this works. Is it that you thread magic along these lines through the Charm? I have no idea.”

“We’ll just have to put these somewhere safe until we can get a teacher,” Kal said. “I don’t think a Principle Mage, that knows how to teach, is going to come to Atros. Unless…”

Kal sighed, her eyes flicked to Anton and Verona before she continued restuffing the pack. Verona laughed but refused to elaborate.

“So while we’ll have to wait until we can get someone from Graterious or Bebbezzar.” Anton began. “We should at least find out who can use magic. Did it say in any of those books?”

“No.” Verona flicked through the page. “Doesn’t say a thing.”

Kal rummaged through the books. “There must be a way, but if you’re reading these books you should already know if you have mana.”

“And it would be weird to go over it again.”

Anton searched through the grass and held up a stone.

“Here we go again.” Verona smiled as she folded her arms.

“Kal. Can you do this one?”

Anton tossed the stone to Kal.

“Okay. What should I say?”

“Something like Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, grant this stone the ability to detect mana within a person and glow bright depending upon how much mana they have. Tethra will fill in the holes.”

Kal repeated the prayer before passing the stone back to Anton. He was sure that it worked but the stone remained lifeless and dull in his hands.

“Verona?”

In Verona’s bare hand the stone slowly began to glow until it reached a steady bright white light.

“There we go.” Verona chuckled. “So I’ve got some mana. Don’t know how much this is but…Kal?”

The stone glowed slightly brighter for Kal. Kal and passed it to Cetina. Instantly the stone turned dead.

Cetina sighed. “I was still kind of hoping.”.

“Doesn’t mean you’ll be weak,” Kal said. “You’ve got a very good sword arm.”

“Thanks. Any reason why it didn’t light up when Anton touched it? I thought it would have just exploded. Can Tethra’s magic be overwhelmed?”

“I wonder about that.”

Anton took the stone from Cetina. It lay completely dormant as the seconds passed by. The girls closed in, frowning deeply at the dull stone. Kal touched it, the stone glowed again but dimmed instantly once she broke contact.

“Too much mana?” Verona raised a worried brow.

“Luna?” Anton patted the grass. “Come here.”

Luna, uncharacteristically still and quiet, leapt up. She approached and offered her neck for a good scratch. Anton laid the stone on her back. It glowed, nowhere near as bright as the others, but it still functioned. When he held it again it turned dull.

“I don’t understand.” Cetina frowned.

“Maybe it’s not my magic,” Anton mumbled, raising the slightly dimmed white stone in his hand. “I’ve had a thought, one for quite some time that I shouldn’t be able to do what I can.”

The girls said nothing and waited patiently.

“Everyone we’ve met says you can only use one Glyph. And yet I have three. And far more magic than is reasonable for a single person, even if there were stories about people of a bygone age using magic like mine, which are probably exaggerations anyway. Stories tend to do that. I think this has everything to do with this.”

“Where did it come from?” Cetina asked. “You never explained that.”

“That is a very good question.” Anton held the stone with his other hand. “I don’t know really. And thankfully Ferula didn’t show too much interest, for whatever reason. But…”

Anton touched the gem with the stone. It flashed brighter than lightning, blinding Anton for a moment. When his eyes recovered the stone had cracked and began disintegrating into a powder that leaked through his fingers.

“Okay,” Anton grumbled.

“I hope I’m not the only one that doesn’t know what’s going on,” Verona asked.

Anton sighed. “I, personally, don’t have any mana. It’s all from this.” Anton tapped the crystal. “Without this, I have no power. No magic. Nothing.” Anton felt the tingling sensation in his tail. “Maybe that’s not entirely true anymore…Why didn’t the stone pick that up?”

Verona scratched her head. “Just don’t lose your hand, right?”

“Right.” Anton frowned at the crystal. “But this brought me to that strange world when I touched that stone. With those little children.”

And whatever came through that portal. I suppose we could use some sort of dial to measure magic and Earth Mana, that would probably be the easiest way.

Kal clapped her hands, her face turning bright. “But that,” She pointed at the gem. “Surely doesn’t matter. You can still use magic.”

“Yeah. But I’m just a little worried about it.” Anton replaced the glove. “What if it’s eating away at my life?”

Verona raised a brow. “More than whatever that tail could be doing? Last time I checked it was still glowing.”

“Speaking of I need to get this thing sorted.” Anton ran a hand over his scaled tail. “No one here knows about it yet.”

“Maybe they’ll think you got that from sleeping with a Beast-kin.” Verona offered. At first, she spoke jovially but her brows quickly furrowed. “Unless they take that seriously.”

“Oh…” Kal’s shoulders drooped.

“I have an idea,” Anton said. “Keep it secret for now but after dealing with The Shadow Isles we’ll say that I got it there. I came in contact with a dangerous artefact. It’s not entirely false so it should slip by.”

Anton stood up and quickly unbound his tail. It always felt so good to leave it to flow freely. More than once the girls had to stop him from leaving his room on The Snowberry with it out. Thankfully he kept his boots on most of the time.

After making some room, the bound Lightning Crow cocked its head to follow him, Anton closed his eyes and focused on his tail. The tingling had faded, now all he felt was a dull throb, a constant pressure, at the very tips.

Maybe this is going to be the same as the Glyph magic. I don’t think I want that glow to get any further up this damn tail. Especially with our destination teeming with them.

Anton focused everything on the ends of his tail. While it was very faint but there was something other than just the dull throb. Whatever it was it felt extremely similar to the stone, the Frangitur Ira Ferula called it, which sent him to that strange realm. He gently pulled on the feeling and directed it to his hands. A writhing ball of black and white lightning, gassing off a white dust, hovered above his hand. He tried to push the orb, just like the lightning bomb, but it refused to budge an inch.

“I hope that’s yours.” Verona smiled at the writhing mass. “Has it at least taken away some of that glow on your tail?”

Verona ran a hand along its entire length, lightly tapping her fingers as she did until she reached the split. Unfortunately, the glow had not faded.

“Damn. Maybe if I can actually get rid of this thing then the glow will fade.”

Anton gently shooed Verona back, just in case something happened. She appeared very reluctant to relinquish her hold of his tail.

No matter what he tried he couldn’t move the sphere. He relinquished control and it simply slipped back inside of him, the charge in his tail hadn’t changed, neither when he reformed the sphere again.

I didn’t see any sort of magic in the White Realm, other than those glowing dolls. But that caused all these problems in the first place. Let’s try copying the Awakened.

Nothing Anton tried worked, the sphere remained stationary, even the lightning failed to respond to his thoughts.

“Anything?” Verona asked. They stood some distance away, just in case something happened.

“No. I tried to copy the Awakened Goblins. But no luck…What am I missing? How did he make it fly forward, was it actually thrown?”

Anton tried again but nothing worked. However as he tried dragging the sphere it shifted slightly, deforming and changing shape without reverting back to a sphere. Finally something. He pushed the protrusion back into the sphere, the lightning had faded slightly and lacked the previous energy and violence.

“Like forging metal.” Anton murmured.

Anton began twisting and forming the sphere. Like moulding clay. Unfortunately, he had no real experience in crafting, the rough effigy was simply thrown together after copying Kal. However this wasn’t the same and he could simply create any shape that he desired, within reason. Every second that passed increased the difficulty in shaping. When the lightning faded away Anton held a strange spear in his hand with a large flat and wide head, made from the same white material of the cubes that littered the White Realm.

Anton waved the spear back and forth, completely weightless in his hand. He swung the spear at the ground. The white edge cut through the soil, throwing up a few morsels of dirt and leave while leaving a near perfect cut in the ground. Nothing stained the edge of the blade, the few crumbs simply fell away.

With great hesitation, Anton touched the edge. It felt dull, yet the edges of the dirt were clearly cut by something unbelievably sharp.

“Ha!” Verona skipped towards him. “So you’ve got a proper blade now.”

“Careful. I don’t know how sharp it is.”

Verona frowned at the other approaching girls. “What are you on about? It clearly went through the ground.”

Verona touched the blade, hissed and recoiled her finger. A stream of blood dripped from a deep yet clean cut. “I see what you mean.”

Kal healed her wound.

Cetina took a dagger and tapped the edge of the spear. The iron groaned loudly upon contact. Cetina frowned at the blade and the flat edge where the two had connected.

“It’s hot.” Cetina dabbed the metal around the mark. “Why?”

She looked at him expecting that he would automatically know the answer.

Some sort of vibration? I didn’t feel anything. Magical vibrations? What an odd magic…Though to the inhabitants of the White Realm, this might be perfectly normal, and they’d find our magic weird.

Anton tapped the edge. “Seems fine for me.”

“I’ll trust that it’d cut me too.” Kal smiled faintly. Luna ran behind them, interested in the commotion but Kal quickly scooped her up lest she tocuh the strange spear.

Anton waved a piece of cloth over the edge, it too was cut with a near perfect edge. He tried his own blade against the spear but felt nothing. As he held it the handle slowly grew hotter and hotter until it was impossible to hold. The grass below singed and smoked from the heat covering the edge of the blade.

“I think it’s a mistake to try and explain everything with,” Anton glanced at Cetina. “With my own logic. Can’t go through metal but it can easily go through flesh, cloth and probably leather. What a strange weapon.”

“You still have your blood shards Verona?”

“Sure do.” Verona directed the shards over her head.

“Put them in front. I want to see how it deals with magic.”

“Ah. I got you. I’ll do that tethering thing to half of them, that hardened the blood last time.”

Anton made sure they were well away before swinging his spear. The weaker blood shattered but the tethered blood remained in one piece. Anton held the edge against the side, the crystallised blood warped and began to crack. Verona frowned heavily and moved the shards away.

“Were you doing something with that weapon?” Verona asked. “It felt like my magic was getting hot. I’ve never felt that before.”

“No.” Anton inspected the edge of the blade again. “That wasn’t my doing.”

Anton tossed the blade to his other hand. Upon leaving contact he felt the weapon drain the sensation from his tail. When his fingers touched it the drain stopped but it didn’t refill.

“Thank you that it isn’t too difficult to get rid of that charge.”

“Who are you thanking?” Kal asked.

“Anyone.” Anton smiled. “Anyone that’s listening. We should probably start on the totems of those Old Gods that Ferula mentioned too…Wait a moment. Does anyone know what those three look like?”

The girls shared a glance and shrugged, smiling bitterly.

“Thought not.” Anton raised his white spear. “How do you handle normal magic?

Anton fired a small lightning bolt at the tip of the spear. It blew away a small fragment of the spear, not much but Anton wasn’t trying particularly hard either.

“Strong against weak material but frail against metals and magic. Such a strange line of magic. Well, time to get rid of this thing.”

Anton thrust the spear into the ground and released his hold. Verona, curious as ever, poked the shaft. This time her finger remained completely intact. She tried to pull the spear up but couldn’t, not even with all her strength. To her, it was completely inert and immovable.

“It’s the same material as the cubes in the White Realm,” Anton explained. “Didn’t think I’d see it outside of that vision, or dream or whatever it really was.”

“Has it happened again?” Kal asked. “The dream, not another change.”

“Every night I see that place for a few seconds but that’s it. I’m keeping an eye on it. And if I do fall back into the world I'm relying on you two to wake me up. Probably a poke in the side.”

Verona laughed, cut short by the spear cracking loudly. Out of the uniform white cracks grew along its entire length, tiny wisps of black and white lightning licked at the air as the cracks met up and continued to grow. A tremendous crack rang through the air and the spear broke into thousands of tiny white cubes, further disintegrating into dust and blowing away in the breeze.

Verona and Kal caught some of the fragments before they disappeared completely. The natural decay of the tiny fragments was greatly accelerated by their touch.

“It’s almost like that brown stone on the gates.” Cetina leant closer. “Where did you get that?”

Anton pointed towards the lake and the Earth Towers, giant brown stone obelisks rising out of the water. “Now that you mention it we don’t know how those got there…And we haven’t seen anything like that in our travels.” Anton turned to the south. “Maybe there’s more beyond Surdon.”

“That’ll be a while,” Kal said. “A lot more Beast-kin too.”

Anton directed his tail to his hands. “The glow has disappeared. I was getting worried.”

“What a strange system of magic.” Verona shrugged, brushing the remnants from her gloves. “The first thing you make is a giant spear…Kind of like mine really.” She sniggered and leant close. “Did you design that after little old me?”

“Perhaps.” Anton ruffled her hair. “It was the first thing that came to mind. Guess it is appropriate for an alien magic, but it’s still weak to magic…Just like me. The Shadow Isles are going to be a right pain for me, even with this. I hate to say this but I might not be of much use. Maybe behind the lines and setting up a few of these bound summons.”

A loud squawk caused Kal and Cetina to jump slightly. Anton looked up and followed the Lightning Crow desperately flapping its wings above them. When it almost reached the maximum range the purple light enveloped its body and fired a bolt at the ground. A terrified screech pierced the clear air, the screech of a Goblin dying. Ten withered Green Goblins ran away, chased by the Lightning Crow.

Anton smiled. “So it works. Excellent.”

The Lightning Crow quickly returned to its Strohierite stone, squawking once before turning silent and still. Anton retrieved the stone, the Lightning Crow didn’t mind and remained perched on top.

“Let’s put it on the roof of Main Hall,” Verona said. “Put a little shelter over it and over the next couple of days, we can make a nest of them. Maybe three or four so we don’t go over that limit, whatever that is. The guards will be able to relax a little with these little guys keeping watch.”

“Atros’s automated security.” Anton chuckled. “I like that. And I didn’t feel anything from those kills.” Anton quickly checked the scales for any sign. “Nope. Guess I’ve found my way to fight.”

“So what now?” Verona asked. “Are we going to stay here tonight or head back to The Snowberry?”

“We’ll head back after dinner. Just in case something happens. But, since we’re here, we might as well check up on everyone.”

The steaming hot food of Atros was so much more alluring than the cold and wet they had on The Snowberry. Anton took both packs, after rebinding his tail, as they slowly returned to Atros.

Chapter 126 - Vol 4 - The Roiling Waves

Chapter 126:

The plain wooden ceiling of The Snowberry did nothing to distract Anton. He couldn’t sleep, even though he had more than enough reason to. Verona and Kal lay sleeping in his arms while Luna snoozed in her coil of rough cloth. They weren’t suffering from the thoughts that troubled his mind. He had suspected for a long time that the magic he could use was not his own, not that it was acting against his will but that he was an unnatural existence, beyond simply being a person from another world. Three Glyphs and a truly ludicrous volume of mana were more than enough proof.

Another thought rattled in the back of his mind. If he was to lose the gem what would happen? Would he just die, torn apart from the Glyph’s conflicting powers or be drawn forever into the White Realm. His dreams hadn’t changed in length, perhaps they had but the increments were so slight as to be unnoticeable. Mere speculation was getting him nowhere and only stressing his heart even further. He tried to focus his mind on better things as he gently pulled the two warm bodies sharing his bed closer.

Atros was going very well. As well as could be expected. Anton had used dinner as a chance to determine the people’s magical capacity. Overall he was disappointed that the vast majority had virtually no magical capacity. It was rather tiring to check almost three thousand people, doubly so since the large communal dinners had changed to smaller scattered groups for logistical reasons, Anton was only able to check the old Atros villagers. The stone was more than enough to get cut out those that had no magic, they would need a dial of some sort to determine exactly how much mana people held, as well as the Earth Mana present within Atros. The Dwarves were very eager to build something delicate, a test of their skill they said. Anton was interested to see if the Beast-kin had a higher or lower level of mana than humans, he suspected they might be higher if they were a created-

Metal thumped onto the door. Verona and Kal reached for their weapons as the pounding continued.

“Anton!” The voice was somewhat familiar, perhaps a Dark Elf.

“Yes?”

“Captain Wilford needs you up top right now. Pirates, he says.”

“Fucking hell.” Anton shook his head. “We’ll be right there. Can you wake Cetina? She’s across the hall from us.”

“Understood. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” The voice grew faint. “Sounds like there are four small ships gaining on our rear.”

“Pirates?” Verona threw off the covers, quickly rummaging through their neatly stacked clothes. “Kal? Anton? Ever met them? I mean, not here for you, Anton.”

“They’re just bandits of the sea.” Kal fastened her armoured shirt. “Nothing too impressive.”

“Apart from their seamanship,” Anton noted. “And no, I’ve never seen a real one. They don’t exist in my world anymore. Well, not like what I expect them to be now. More little speedboats with guns.”

Verona and Kal looked confused but didn’t question further.

With everyone ready, Kal’s mask safely secured and Luna nestled in her bed, Anton loudly knocked on Cetina’s door. The Dark Elf had already left though his wet boots had left stains.

“Cetina?” Anton yelled. “You almost ready?”

“Yes, Anton.” Anton heard heavy hopping. “I’m almost there. I just need to get my last boot on.”

The door opened a few seconds later. Cetina was properly dressed for battle, though she appeared still a little tired, perhaps even restless. She nodded them forward and up.

A heavy spray washed onto the deck, buffeting the deck of The Snowberry with cold foamy water. Dwarves and Dark Elves braced themselves on the starboard side. Through the blackness of night, only illuminated by the light of the stars and their few lamps, Anton saw their weapons were nocked and ready. Anton remained silent as they squeezed into the line. Through the rough sea, Anton saw four tiny lights encroaching upon them. Judging by the positioning of their scarce lights they were much smaller than The Snowberry but faster. Galleys perhaps? It was very difficult to tell in such darkness.

Kal nodded. “Four ships.” She scratched her mask. “But I don’t know what they are. I’ve never been near the sea before.”

“You can see that?” Cetina asked, a thought mirrored by everyone nearby.

Anton spoke the night vision prayer aloud. The inky haze of night faded away. Four galleys rapidly closed towards them. Rows of oars plunged into the roiling waves to propel the small low ship beyond what their simple sails could provide. The Snowberry’s sails were all deployed but with the weak wind there was no way they could outrun them.

“Do you want me to just burn them?” Anton asked, summoning a small fireball. “I would like to test out the Octahedron Bomb on a real target, or one of those fire lances, but I’ll need it to come a lot closer first. It has nowhere near the range of this little guy.”

And find out if killing human’s charges this damn tail.

“They’re Blood Sharks!” Wilford shouted.

He and the human sailors, armed with simple weapons and armour, rushed towards the starboard side. Their trembling fingers conveyed their fear.

“Absolute arseholes.” Wilford spat into the pools spilling water receding back into the sea. “Bunch of seriously demented lunatics. Just raiding a ship isn’t enough for them. They’ll kill anyone they get their hands on, or if they haven’t paid them off.”

“And we didn’t meet them the first time because?”

“Probably because they were attacking some other poor bastard.” Wilford shrugged. “Normally I would pay them off but I didn’t have the chance this time.”

“Wonderful.” Anton turned back to the ships.

“Usually they don’t come this far south…They do have a bounty on them.” Wilford offered, his voice slightly softer than normal. “Quite a bit too.”

“Lord Umbris?” Anton asked. “What does he think of these people?”

“Hates them.” Wilford chuckled. “I don’t see how he wouldn’t.”

“Do we have any way to fish them out of the sea or not?”

“Why…” Wilford looked at the small fireball. “Oh. Yes, we do. But they might choose to drown rather than be taken prisoner.”

“I’m sure everyone says that right before death has them in its grasp.” Anton slapped the wet railing. “Everyone get behind a shield or some piece of armour. I don’t want anyone to die tonight if that start firing at us.”

“I think most pirates will do that.” Umikgruid laughed. He pushed Gosthilda behind him. “This is nothing new.”

“Pirate Dwarves?” Anton raised a brow.

“Never. But we have had to deal with humans…And the odd Dark Elf Pirates.”

“Don’t remind us,” Ceccitol grumbled.

Anton waited until the ship drew close. Cetina moved her dented tower shield in front of Anton for protection and ensured Verona and Kal were protected as well. Anton waved them back and to watch the other side, just in case. Pirates, poorly armed but highly motivated for loot and plunder, shouting and jeering, prepared to throw hooks onto the ship. A sock of chain linked metal covered the first meter of the rope from the hook. There would be no way for someone to cut the rope without exposing themselves to arrows and bolts.

The fireball glowed brighter and brighter until his eyes winced with pain. He pushed it high above the space between the two ships. The pirates were stunned, they looked to one another for assurance, their hands tightened around their weapons while others allowed them to drop low. Regardless of what they expected to pillage from a ship as large as The Snowberry, a Fire Mage was not one of them.

“Surrender!” Anton yelled. His throat hurt slightly from the force, very rarely had he shouted in this world. “I can destroy your ship with a flick of my wrist. Give up now before I burn your ship and leave you to the mercy of the waves.”

Now the pirates were completely stunned. Their attention slowly coalesced towards the rear of the ship. A large pirate emerged, his muscles as large as Jonathan or Zac but riddled with cuts and scars.

“We won’t surrender to the likes of you!” The pirate shouted back. “We eat your kind. I’ve killed mages before, you think you’ll be any different? We’ll just see how long you can keep that magic going. Not much longer I bet. But we’ll keep the women for a while. They can watch you sink beneath the waves.”

Ceccitol leaned close. “You have fire above your head. Is this one just stupid or…”

“Last chance!” Anton yelled to the Pirate Captain.

He must be an idiot. Or think it’s a trick.

The Pirate Captain laughed, so too did the crew. But theirs was forced while his felt true. True that he didn’t understand what a situation he was in. Two of the four pirate boats had already begun to peel away. Their captains understood. It was just these two fools that were still closing in.

“Still leaves me a target.” Anton said. “I really hope there aren’t any captives on that other ship.”

Anton created a fire lance and threw it at the second ship. The pirate’s eyes followed the dart of flame with a mixture of awe and fear. The lance struck the prow of the second ship, throwing up splinters of wood and flame in all directions. Fire spread across the sails and the hull, probably coated with some sort of tar to keep the ship sealed. The crashing waves weren’t loud enough to drown out the sounds of fear and panic. Waves of water extinguished the flames on the outside but the deck quickly began to burn. The pirates, illuminated by the bright flickering flames, desperately tried to douse the flame but it wasn’t enough. Fire spread uncontrollably, especially after Anton threw two more fire lances. Pirates jumped into the water, some couldn’t swim and simply dropped beneath the waves. Anton felt a pang of pity for them. Despite what they were he didn’t want them to sink to a deathly cold embrace. However, they were pirates. They knew the dangers of their work. Anton didn’t feel a charge rushing up his tail even when some had clearly died. Humans had no effect, only the Goblins, and probably the other four races named in that book.

“Surrender!” Anton shouted over the screams of the drowning pirates.

The Captain stared shocked until one of his crew hit him and pointed to The Snowberry. Anton held up another dozen small fireballs ready to strike.

“Okay!” The Captain grit his teeth. “We surrender.”

The pirates threw down their weapons and hooks, raised their hands as they winced while the screams continued.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Anton smiled at the rest of the crew. “Do we have enough space for them?”

“We still have the chains from the Beast-kin.” Wilford offered. “Whatever you did to them…Can you do that to these pirates?”

“No.” Anton smiled. “But I think we should just make sure that everyone is searched extremely thoroughly. How far are we from Rusaddir anyway?”

“Two days. So long as we have good wind.”

“We’ll drop them off there,” Anton said. “You did end up paying up everything you owed, right?”

“We did. But…I don’t know if they’ll like to see us.”

Anton turned to the galley trailing their side. “Bring your ship closer and climb on board. Leave all your weapons there. If any of you try something I’ll burn your ship with everyone still in it and throw everyone into the sea.”

The pirates glumly agreed and slowly manoeuvred the galley alongside The Snowberry. Anton kept a close eye but he saw the two retreating pirate galleys return for their friends. At least there was some honour amongst them. Some.

“Anything from the other side?” Anton asked Kal.

“Nothing.” Kal kept her bow nocked. “It is just the four ships. For now, at least.”

Anton backed away as the galley gently crashed into the hull of The Snowberry. No pirate wanted to go first, so Anton lowered the fireball as a reminder. The Captain ran a hand through his short greasy hair and pushed the nearest pirate forward. With a dejected shuffle, they began their ascent.

“No weapons!” Umikgruid shouted down, the pirate had only made a few rungs before stopping dead. His wet face was stained in fear, a hand reached down for the short sword at his waist. He unclasped it and threw it down to the galley. It struck the edge and tumbled into the sea. A few idle hands reached for the precious sword but couldn’t save it.

“That’s better.” Umikgruid laughed. “Come on up.”

The pirate shuddered in relief and continued the climb. Everyone backed away and gave the pirates some space. The first set of hands hauled themselves up, a stream of weathered sun-tanned bodies flowed onto the ship.

“No weapons!” A Dark Elf shouted at a pirate. He had a small dagger on his belt.

The Dark Elf yelled again but the pirate didn’t follow his order. He looked at Anton, who returned a nod. An arrow sunk into the pirate's arm, throwing his screaming body off the ladder and smashed back first into the side of the galley. Anton heard something snap as he slid limply into the cold water. Again, no sensation. The pirates dropped any pretence of smuggling. Some jumped into the water to swim for freedom, many sinking into the darkness, but most weren’t willing to give up on life just yet.

Wilford separated the pirates into small groups before sending them below. When the Captain emerged, a man much larger than the others, the remaining pirates regained some of their strength.

“You’re not that big.” The Captain sniggered.

“Mages don’t need to be physically strong.”

A Dark Elf grabbed the man, he was very careful to not let his loose clothes shift.

“Is there something on your wrist?”

The Captain frowned and turned his hand. An old circular tattoo lay underneath a ragged piece of cloth. Anton probably wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t bring attention to it.

“That wouldn’t happen to be something from Tullas Mad Eye’s Gang, would it?”

The Captain clicked his tongue. A hand slowly reached for the non-existent weapon on his side.

“I think we’re going to have to have a bit of a chat.”

---[]---

The Pirate Captain grumbled as he was fastened to the wooden pillar that once held Marion and Kristof. Anton saw that Rasha’s chain link, almost ripped free, had not been repaired. The Captain frowned upon seeing. Nevertheless, he remained calm. Was it bravado or some sort of fatalistic realisation? Time would tell.

“Now what?” The pirate grumbled, the iron links clanking as his arms relaxed.

“There’s still someone up top keeping an eye on the other ships?” Anton asked Wilford.

“There is. But, if what’s about to happen is about to happen, I don’t want to be here.”

“Go back up.” Anton nodded. “And take us to Rusaddir with all haste.”

Wilford bade a hasty retreat with the few human sailors.

“Well, at least you got rid of him.” The Captain spat onto the ground. “So, what are you lot going to do now? I don’t know anything.”

“I think you do,” Anton said. “Lord Cassius is still having trouble with that gang.”

He pointed at the tattoo, the Captain’s face turned to a grimace.

“And having you all wrapped up will be very nice for him.”

The Captain laughed and shook his head.

“What are you trying to find?” Ceccitol asked.

“There’s a large, powerful gang that’s causing a lot of trouble for a benefactor of mine, Lord Cassius of Graterious. And it seems that he’s a part of this…But I don’t know anything about extracting information.”

The Captain laughed again. “If you think cutting me will work you’re going to be sorely mistaken.” He raised his arm exposing the hundreds of scars and burns. “Do your worst little man.”

Tuccac drew his slim blade. “I believe that I can extract the information required.”

He grabbed the Captain’s hand and drove the blade underneath his fingernail. A strangled cry emanated from his lips as Tuccac ripped the fingernail free.

Tuccac leant close enough for his lips to brush against the Captain’s beard. “And we have many more to go.”

“I haven’t even asked any questions yet.” Anton mused.

Tuccac shrugged. “No. But this way he’ll behave when you do.”

“This…” Verona pulled on his sleeve. “I don’t like this at all.”

Tuccac raised a brow as he skewered another finger.

“There must be another way to get information out of him,” Anton said. Tuccac finished ripping out the next fingernail before sheathing his blade. Ceccitol remained completely calm as her husband returned to her side. “One that won’t ruin his body.”

“Surely you can just heal him when we’re done.” Tuccac shrugged idly. “If that’s true then it really doesn’t matter what we do to him, so long as we don’t kill him.”

“I’d still prefer not to. Let’s see if Tethra can do something that doesn't involve ripping your fingernails out. One part, scurried away in the corner of the last few pages, talked about Tethra's Arbiters being a problem. Forcing people to confess their sins and crimes. So...” Anton approached the man and laid his hand on his head. The Captain grit his teeth but managed to raise a brow. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, compel this man to speak only the truth until I release my hand.”

His eyes widened in terror as an alien force surged through his body.

“Wh-"

“What is your name?”

“Diaus.” The Captain’s eye shot wide open. “What have you done-”

“It actually works.” Anton smiled. “What age did you lose your virginity and to whom?”

“Fifteen winters. To Lucy, a farm hand.” He growled at Anton. “Fuck you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Anton chuckled. “Now, do you work for Tullas Mad-Eye?”

“Yes.” The Captain tried to shake Anton’s hand free but couldn’t. “How-”

“In what capacity?”

The Captain’s face visibly strained as he tried to hold his mouth shut. “We raid the coast of Lord Umbris’s territory. We capture every ship we can to weaken support for Lord Umbris.”

“That seems a little coordinated for a simple gang.” Anton mused. “Sounds like it’s being co-ordinated by someone very powerful. Not that there isn’t someone that fits that bill to a tee. Tell me, have you met Tullas Mad-Eye himself?”

“No.”

“Have you met any of his commanders? Cells? Locations of bases?”

The captain bared his teeth and refused to speak.

“I suppose I asked too many questions. Where are their bases?”

Again he struggled but Tethra’s power compelled him. “One in Porswea, Capua and Noreia.”

“I think the one near Porswea has been destroyed. Where are those other cities?”

“Capua is near the capital and Noreia is the Lord Umbris’s capital city.”

“Nothing in Vissulis’s territory?”

“No. Not that I know of.”

“I don’t think it’s difficult to figure out who’s benefiting from this.” Anton frowned lightly. “Though that could just be a distraction. It’s not like the upcoming civil war is a great secret. Tullas might be hiding his activity outside of Cassius’s territory with other bandit and pirate groups like these guys. Cells, hard to trace back to the leaders. Unless you get a commander, of course.”

“This is a lot easier than torture.” Tuccac spun the small blade in his hands.

“It is…Still makes me wonder why Tethra ended up the way she is.” Anton turned back to the terrified Captain. “So you don’t know what Tullas looks like…Do you know anything about him?”

“Only that he’s related to the royal family somehow.” The Captain gave up trying to fight. “That’s all I know. I don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.”

“Or even a human.”

Perhaps a Strega Witch? There’s no presence of their magic on him. But…I don’t know enough to speculate further without wasting time.

“Can you get in contact with Tullas? Or someone high up in his command chain?”

“I can. But it’ll take some time.”

“Are you the only one in your gang that has these connections?”

“Yes. Fuck you!”

Anton ignored his screams. “Then it’ll take some time before they realise the truth. I’m sure Cassius will be pleased to have you to play with.”

Anton removed his hand. Something left the pirate and his breath became more haggard.

If Tethra can do this then why was she nearly dead? She really only had two allies when I first met her, perhaps the rest teamed up against her to stop this. Or someone really powerful didn’t like their dirty secrets exposed and silenced every Tethra follower…That sounds more likely. Some sort of Thought Police?

“You son of a bitch!” He screamed at Anton. “By all the gods what did you do to me?!”

“Tuccac, Ceccitol. Could you make sure he doesn’t try to kill himself? I would prefer to hand over a person than a cold corpse.”

The Dark Elves advanced on the panicking pirate. They forced cloth between his teeth. It was enough to keep him from biting off his own tongue, though how they’d feed him before reaching Rusaddir was another question.

It’s dehydration that gets people before starvation. Always. Plus I think we could just pour some water in until he swallows. Sounds very familiar to waterboarding…

“Better than ripping the man’s fingers apart.” Gosthilda smiled bitterly at Verona and Kal.

“I just didn’t want to see Anton try something with his fire or lightning magic for that,” Verona said. “Battle is one thing."

“We should have someone down here at all times. Just in case something happens.”

“Three of my warriors will keep an eye on him,” Ceccitol spoke proudly. “He’ll reach this human port in alive and in one piece.”

“Thanks...” Anton sighed. “Let’s go back to bed, everyone. I don’t think the pirates are going to try another attack so soon.”

“You’d be surprised.” Umikgruid chuckled.

They left the small room and returned to their quarters. Cetina gave a small wave, her face tired from mental exhaustion, and retired to her room. Anton would have enjoyed nothing more than return to bed, the idea of having a little more fun was thoroughly dampened, but his head was still a little unsettled.

“You two go back to bed for a bit.” Anton pushed their rears forward. “I’m heading up top for a bit of fresh air.”

Kal held her bow tight. “Do you want us to come with you? It wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m fine.” Anton moved the mask and kissed her, then Verona. “I just need a little bit of fresh air. That’s all.”

“Okay…” Verona glanced at Kal. “But don’t take too long. We don’t want to have to come and get you.”

Anton gave them another kiss and returned to the deck. Only a few Dwarves and Dark Elves were on patrol, most of the human sailors were resting and trying their best to peer into the dark. Anton realised his night vision enhancement was still active. He walked to the edge and looked into the sea. Well behind them he saw the still burning remains of the second galley, the first had spun away and drifted aimlessly, tossed about by the waves.

A ghost ship. I wonder if someone’s going to reclaim it. Maybe the pirates will get it back, or maybe it’ll wash ashore and some fishermen will get a prize…What’s that?

At the limit of his vision, several humps moved through the water towards them.

Anton found a human sailor nearby coiling ropes. “Hey. Come here a moment.”

“Is there a problem, my lord?” His breath reeked of fish, how Kal could put up with theirs he had no idea.

“No. But, I want you to stand still for a moment.”

Anton held the man’s shoulder. He received an odd look but Anton chanted a night vision enhancement prayer. The sailor gasped in surprise.

“Don’t be too alarmed.” Anton pointed towards the humps. “Do you know what those things are? Are they coming towards us?”

The sailor strained his enhanced eyes. “I…I see them. I don’t know what they are. They might be Leviathans.”

Anton stared at the man. He had an idea what to expect but didn’t want to reveal his lack of knowledge.

“Forgive me, my lord.” The sailor bowed his head low. “Leviathans are giant sea creatures, a giant sea snake that preys on wounded whales, sharks and dolphins. They’re probably after the dead pirates.”

“Let’s keep an eye on them, just in case.”

Anton and the sailor looked into the sea as the two lumps approached the stranded galley. Just before they reached the ships they slinked beneath the waves. Anton wondered why two leviathans would act in such a coordinated way. The water exploded as a giant creature emerged, water cascading off its head. Anton only then realised the two humps in the water were actually the upper ridges of its eye sockets. A giant eel mouth picked up the burning galley and threw it into the air. Flailing oars and splintering wood smacked the creatures head but it completely ignored them. For a moment Anton thought it was trying to swallow the ship whole. A long tongue wrapped itself around the burned bodies before slurping them down its enormous mouth. It shook the boat to free bodies that had melted into the husk of the ship. Neither said a word but the others on the deck slowly investigated their stupor. Though they lacked night vision the glistening water on the Leviathans thick hide was more than enough to illuminate the giant beast under the gentle light of the stars.

“I’ve never seen one so large.” A Dwarf spoke very softly, with almost a reverence as the giant beast thrashed the galley until it broke in half. “They swim near the Dwarven Isles but they don’t attack ships. Not normally. Usually it’s whales and giant turtles.”

“I think he’s just after a snack.” Anton smiled. “Some roasted meat.”

The crew watched as the Leviathan discarded the galley and began to rummage through the flotsam. Occasionally it would lick up another dead body, a picky child rummaging through sweets for its favourite. When it was finally content it began to sink into the water but not before an eye, as large as a car, flicked towards them. The iris constricted to a pinprick. For a moment Anton feared for his life as the Leviathan’s tongue flicked at the air. Another moment passed and the creature slowly slinked beneath the waves.

“Are we safe?” The sailor asked.

“Should be.” The Dwarf slapped the wet wooden railing. “They usually don’t go for wooden boats. What good does that have for them?”

“The tasty little morsels inside for one.” Anton glibly replied. The Dwarf grumbled but didn’t disagree.

“So long as it decides to go after the other dead pirates we should be fine.” A Dark Elf spoke very softly, as if the vibrations from his words were enough to lure the beast. “Surely? Could you have killed it?

Anton smiled at the starry skies. “I don’t know. Maybe, but I don’t know if it’s immune to magic. If it came from below we’ve got no chance. What else lurks just beyond our sight?”

No one had a real answer. Anton’s sleep that night was very short and troubled, every noise and groan of the hull hinted of the Leviathan return.

---[]---

The incidents with the Pirates and the Leviathan were by far the most exciting parts of the journey across the sea. Most of the time the Dwarves simply returned to Atros for the day to continue upgrading the city. Anton remained on The Snowberry, just in case someone dared to attack. The Beast-kin had been checked for magical potential and they were nearly the same as the humans were. No real discernible pattern. Ulyaa’s potential was quite high but the other Beast-kin girls had very little. Anton didn’t know if it was wise to try and teach everyone, even if they could only use a few magical spells each day like Duchess Belinda. The Earth Mana dial had been finished. On a scale of zero to twenty they currently used twelve and a half; four for the four bound Lightning Crows, the four active portals, one to the mine, the forest and the portal back and forth and the secret portal in their home, used another two each and the half from the hot stone. The communication pens used nothing until they began to write and that was only one unit at a time. How they could create a node was still beyond them and Ferula promised to investigate. Cetina was loathed to have her assistance but recognised the necessity of their help.

Rusaddir, as the sun scorched his head, came into view. Seagulls squawked loudly, landing on the railings with inquisitive eyes, hoping to snatch food from their hands. Some were successful before the sailors began to chase them away. They were determined scavengers and quickly returned to eye off potential morsels.

“Just supplies?” Wilford asked.

Anton nodded. “Well, that and handing over these pirates. They’ve been well behaved, all things considered.

“I think after seeing your magic, and hearing about the Leviathan, the thought of escaping faded away."

“You should have told us it was there.” Verona pouted lightly. “I really wanted to see it. It sounded like it was really cool.”

“If you say so.” Kal scratched her arms. “I don’t think there’s much even you could do against something like that.”

Verona laughed, waving down Kal’s concern. “I know that we’d win. Somehow.”

The Snowberry slowly returned to its original wharf. Sailors threw down large ropes to eagerly awaiting dockhands. With the crash of the wooden ramp, Anton knew they would have a few hours of respite from the seas.

Anton clapped and drew the attention of the Dark Elves and human sailors, there were only two Dwarves left on the ship. “We aren’t going to be here long. So the furthest you can go is the end of this wharf. I don’t want you to even go as far as the city. But as long as you are back before we leave then it’s not a problem.

“I think we’ll just be on the wharf.” Tuccac nodded to the deckhands. They chatted furiously amongst themselves as they pointed at the Dark Elves. “We’re already attracting quite a crowd.”

“Not every day you see a Dark Elf.” Anton smiled. “At least that’s what they tell me. And none of you look like slack-jawed yokels either.”

“What?” Tuccac tilted his head. He understood it wasn’t an insult but that was all. Anton wasn’t about to push it further.

“We have to see the Harbor Master about these pirates.” Wilford began walking down the wooden ramp. “Otherwise they’ll arrest us for having human slaves without a permit.”

“It’s that easy,” Verona mumbled, looking up at Anton then to Kal. “Isn’t it?”

Anton glumly nodded and squeezed her shoulders. As they reached the stone ground, Cetina close behind with her sheathed sword, Anton saw a familiar face coming along the wharf towards them. A travelling companion they had picked up in Soulthor, a man whose morals seemed loose at best.

“Do you think Virgil would know something about the pirates?” Anton asked Verona.

“Would a mercenary from hundreds of miles away know that?”

“Probably not. But I wonder if he’ll be glad to see us.”

When they reached the halfway point they peeled off the main thoroughfare to a raised wooden platform. It appeared to be used for storing goods but was currently empty. Wilford nodded towards the Harbor Master building and continued through the crowds. Having no knowledge of Wilford he passed the man by without a word.

Virgil stepped onto the wooden platform, a silly smile on his face. “Good to see you three, no, four again. Cassius will be glad to see that you’re taking good care of The Snowberry.”

He stepped towards the water and raised his gloved hand to his brow. “And you appear to have some Seocurians with you too. No. Their skin’s too light. And their ears…Are they Dark Elves?”

“Yes.”

“You have a crew of Dark Elves?” Virgil threw an almost sassy pose.

“Indeed." Anton smiled. “And what a surprise they were.”

Virgil raised a brow. “A surprise? Nothing out of the ordinary for you lot it seems. Take out an army of Ghlotsm, some giant dog creatures, Demons they say, in Fort Acidava, discover that Lord Cassius is being manipulated by Strega Witches and then fight said Strega Witches. I think that’s more than what most people do in their whole lives.”

“I doubt most people leave the village they were born in.” Anton chuckled. “But do you have something for us?”

“Yes indeed.” Virgil produced a fine piece of paper.

Delight washed over Anton when he read the writ. Cassius held true to his words.

“Fantastic. But I have something extra for you."

“I believe that Cassius said that another batch of those fancy pens would be more than sufficient.” Virgil opened a small bag. “I bought these for you.”

“We did. But I have…I wouldn’t say equal but something he’d like.”

“Oh?”

“We were attacked by pirates on the way here. And one of them is working with Tullas.”

“They mainly operate in Cassius’s territory.” Virgil held his chin. “It would make sense they would expand.”

“They operate underneath another name but he has their tattoo. I don’t know how much he really knows but he knows a few locations of some bases and a few other things. I’m sure you could ask him more specific questions.”

“Normally high ranking members don’t talk much.” Virgil frowned. “Not even when you start peeling their skin. So how did you get it out?”

“It wasn’t a knife ripping out his fingernails,” Verona said idly.

Virgil laughed. “From what I’ve heard Tullas hates traitors more than he hates us. We’ve tried that and it doesn’t work. Very little does, for the higher ones at least. Those few you found in the weapon and armour store were pretty low so it didn’t take much.”

“Magic can do such wonderful things.” Anton smiled. “We also have the rest of a galley’s worth of pirates too.”

“Ah. Umbris will surely reward you with some lovely coins.”

Not that we really need it, especially once we retake Balefire Mine.

Anton passed the writ to Kal, who stuffed it in her quiver. “Do you want him now or…?"

“Let’s wait for your captain.” Virgil waved down Anton’s enthusiasm. “If they see me leading away a man in chains they’ll get very suspicious.”

“Is it really just you?” Verona asked.

Kal pointed into the crowd. “I see eight people that were following you that have stopped.” Some that she pointed at took great pains to avoid attention while others ignored it.

Virgil clicked his tongue. “Seems like I need to give my men some more training. If someone wearing a mask can spot them…”

By the time Wilford returned Anton and Kal had enchanted the pens. Virgil was very happy to receive them, Anton felt that he would have left that very second if he wasn’t getting a warm body. Wilford and the Harbor Master raced past with almost a hundred soldiers in tow. They quickly boarded The Snowberry after Wilford waved down the protective Dark Elves. Though the soldiers were professional there was no way they would not gawk at the rare sight of a Dark Elf, let alone thirty. The pirates began to disembark under heavy guard, all had seemingly resigned themselves to their fate.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Anton asked the Harbor Master, speaking furiously with Wilford.

“The mines.” He waved at the glum procession. “It’s lucky that Lord Umbris needs their services. Otherwise, they’d hang for their crimes.”

“Seems the Blood Sharks are well known,” Anton mumbled to Virgil.

Virgil laughed. “They’re known even in Porswea. He’s right, they are lucky.”

Cetina frowned, her hand gripping tight on her sword. “But they’re about to spend the rest of their lives-”

“Short lives.” Virgil corrected.

“-Short lives breaking and hauling rocks. How is that any better?”

“Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t know. I guess they could attack the guards if they really don’t want try their luck and escape. But there’s every chance they could escape the mines and become bandits again.” Virgil laughed. “Not that they’ll ever get that chance. I know those mines.” He looked at Anton. “You go in, but you don’t come out.”

“I wonder if the Pirate Captain has the better deal from this.” Anton mused.

Wilford stopped the Pirate Captain and pointed at Virgil. The Harbour Master confirmed his orders and released him to Virgil’s men.

Virgil inspected the defeated Pirate Captain. “You don’t look like much. You’re big, but I think that’s about it.”

The Pirate Captain snorted, his first sign of action in some time.

“I see that he has all his fingernails.” Virgil turned to Anton. “Don’t tell me this all a scam?”

Anton approached and raised his hand.

“Keep him away from me.” He struggled against his captors with the strength of ten men, but it wasn’t enough, especially with his bound legs and feet.

“Looks like you did do something.” Virgil enjoyed the spectacle.

“Better than what it could have been,” Verona said. Virgil glanced at her, raised a brow but dropped it when Verona didn’t elaborate.

Anton chanted a prayer aloud to ensure the Pirate spoke only the truth until the next dawn. His body was left shaking by the rush of mana. Virgil didn’t’ bother to notice, too enticed by the possibility of a perfectly truthful interrogation.

“Well then.” Virgil stopped a meter from the Pirate Captain. “Did you say that he knew of some bases?”

“He said there was one in Capua, I think it was called. And the other in the capital of Umbris’s territory.”

“Noreia,” Kal said softly.

“Capua. Where is the base?”

The Pirate Captain struggled again against Tethra’s magic, knowing now he was before someone of some authority, but the magic won out.

“The central royal barracks. The entrance is behind the Sweet Deer Tavern, in the storage room there’s a secret door at the back. That leads to the underground base underneath the royal barracks.”

“And how come they don’t know you’re there?” Virgil asked calmly.

“The stone floor is very thick and everyone moves as quietly as possible. Smoke is sent up with those coming from the barracks itself.”

Virgil smiled and patted Anton’s shoulder. “This is fantastic. If you ever need money you could just offer yourself to Cassius. He’d pay your weight in gold to have something like this. Maybe my cheating ex wouldn’t have done something if someone like you were around.”

“You had sex with Sancha,” Verona said flatly, Cetina twitched at her mention. “So…”

“That’s different. But you understand my point-”

Virgil jumped forward, avoiding a swing at the back of his head by a hair’s breadth. The Pirate Captain wrestled with the eight men, rapidly subdued and pinned to the ground. Virgil drew his sword and plunged it into the man’s hand.

Virgil twisted the blade. “I don’t think you’re a big shot in this organisation. I think you just got lucky. So I was going to let you go once I’d got what I wanted. Let you go to the mines. But, but you just had to do that.” Virgil looked up. “Take a good look at the sky. It’ll be the last time you it.”

The Pirate Captain tried to speak but Virgil stuffed a wad of cloth into his mouth. His men picked up the giant of a man and hauled him away. Passer-bys gave plenty of space.

“Thank you, Anton.” Virgil held out his hand. “Even if that’s all he’s got Cassius will be very happy. He’ll be sure to remember this.”

Anton returned the shake.

“See you soon.” Virgil threw his hand over his head. “Good luck with your journey.”

Anton waited until they were very far away before sighing with relief. “That wasn’t so bad."

“I do feel a little bad for the pirates.” Verona shrugged. “Only a little bit. I’ve never had to dig for a whole day so…”

“It’s not fun,” Cetina smirked. “Just one of the types of training that’s good for building a soldier. And for punishment.”

“Back to The Snowberry.” Anton waved the girls back. “Next stop is Seocuria. It’s a shame that we don’t have the time to head to the Royal Academy. Or trust someone to take the portal stones. But I don’t know how we could convince some Principle Mage to just drop everything and follow us.”

Verona laughed, worming her way underneath his arm and pulling it into her chest. She said nothing but her wicked smile spoke more than words could possibly. Kal took his other arm, not willing to be left out, as they returned to The Snowberry and soon back to the open sea.

Chapter 127 - Vol 4 - First Batch

Chapter 127:

“Is that everything?” The Seocurian Slave House owner asked Anton. “These slaves are cheap and some very unwell. Will these be enough?”

“Absolutely.” Anton kept his face flat. “They will work as they recover.”

“Of course.” The Seocurian bowed, a barely restrained sneer on his face. He thought he had just removed useless stock at a great price. No one in the Slave House, Seocurian or Beast-kin, could guess what was really happening.

“Send them to The Snowberry waiting in the docks.” Anton turned to leave.

“Of course.” The man, and several female assistants bowed deeply again. “We will be waiting for your next visit.”

“Shouldn’t be too long.” Anton returned a wave. “If you have any more like these we’ll purchase them as well. I’m sure you and your bosses will be glad to be rid of them.”

“I will send word. Safe travels.”

“And to you.”

A Seocurian soldier opened the door back to the scorching heat of Kolopti, the most southern Seocurian port. It was slightly smaller than Rusaddir and heavily reliant of trade with Graterious, but most importantly it held a modest Slave House.

“Everything’s so much easier with money.” Anton held a gold coin to the sun. “It’s almost like a drug.”

“Six hundred of my people are about to be free.” Kal pulled close to Anton. “What are they going to say?”

Seocurian soldiers led the procession of Beast-kin towards the docks. As a whole, they looked slightly worse than those they rescued from Danafra. Most had mottled fur and scars, patches of infected and worm-riddled skin, torn off ears and damaged limbs. They looked truly pathetic.

Degrade them to the point of mangy beasts to justify your treatment of them….

There wasn’t much of a selection in Kolopti, mainly feline and canine with a few reptiles and some sharks thrown in for good measure.

“Come on.” Anton continued walking, not sparing a look towards the Beast-kin. “There are a few things we need to prepare.”

---[]---

Anton raised a brow, glancing at the salt-stained walls of the dock fronting warehouse. “Four hundred silver? That’s from now until next autumn?”

The warehouse owner nodded. “These warehouses are underneath the protection of the Seocurian army, Graterian. No one would be so foolish to try and break in. Well, a Graterian might but never a Seocurian. They understand the punishment for burglary.”

“Enslavement?” Verona asked softly.

“Exactly.” The Seocurian passed over a small piece of sheepskin paper. “This is proof of your ownership. I’ll inform the guards of your description…” His eyes lingered on Kal’s mask for a considerable time. “Please be aware that if you don’t have this you won’t be able to access the warehouse. And don’t forget to declare everything that passes through the gates and docks for tolls. Failure will result in seizure of goods and possibly yourself.”

“I understand.” Anton smiled.

The man bowed his head and left, leaving the four standing before a large warehouse. While it was similar to those in Atros it had an undeniable Seocurian aesthetic. Anton liked the style, but such thoughts were tainted by the knowledge of who built and maintained it.

Verona checked that no one was in eavesdropping range. “Another step completed. Our first portal to Seocuria.”

“I don’t know if this is the safest spot.” Kal murmured. “Someone could just walk in and find the stones. That’ll be enough for someone to have a closer look. And then they find Atros and then…”

Anton pulled her close. Kal relaxed slightly but still kept an air of nervousness as Anton opened the small access door. Old and musty air blasted his lungs, cobwebs hung from every corner, several rats ran along the old wooden beams, chittering at the presence of uninvited guests.

“You paid too much for this.” Cetina sighed. “You should at least have a clean floor.”

Large clumps of dried hay, from some unknown previous holder, lay scattered over the stone floor. Though dry Anton smelt the faintest whiffs of faeces. One quick glance to Kal confirmed his assumption.

“It’s just rats.” Kal chuckled. “At least I hope it is.”

“We can only hope.” Verona kicked away a clump with her foot.

Anton ensured the door was shut. Kal removed her mask, brushed away the tiny beads of sweat running down her face and unruffled her ears.

“There’s really nothing here.” Verona mused.

“Perfect for us.” Anton smiled.

“And we’re just going to put the portal stones in the middle of the room?”

“I hoped we wouldn’t have to do that.” Anton nodded to the rear of the warehouse. “And it looks like we won’t have to.”

He nodded to a small secluded room at the rear, really just a partitioned area. Nevertheless, it was more than enough for them.

“Do you have the stones, Cetina?”

When the last was in place the white disk formed. However, there wasn’t another set in Atros, not yet at least. He needed to have a discussion with the Dwarves about establishing something more secure than just a barn protected by a half dozen disinterested guards.

“Perfect.” Verona kissed Anton’s cheek. “Now we have a near constant stream of Beast-kin coming back to Atros. And I’m sure the Seocurians will be more than happy to get rid of the sick ones.”

“Some could barely walk.” Cetina mused.

“We’ll make them better.” Anton smiled at the girls. “Just giving them a decent meal and bed will be a start.” He stroked his beard. “But not too much. If you give someone who’s starving a lot of food it could kill them. Not something I want on my mind.”

“And how do we keep people out?” Cetina asked. “Kal’s right. They could just break down the door and then find this.”

“I have an idea. Can any of you see another way in except the main and the little access door?”

A quick search revealed no additional entrances, but it didn’t mean there was a loose board hidden by wooden planks. The rats had to get in somehow.

“Nothing?” Anton chuckled. “That makes things easier then.”

Verona playfully leant forward and smirked. “Another stone?”

“No.” Anton ruffled her hair. “Not this time. I don’t even know how I could do that. Apart from having one repel…” He sighed. “I was going to cast a prayer over the door like our packs, so only a few people can open it, but that’s actually a good idea.”

“I wasn’t actually being that serious.” Verona laughed. “Since you’ve found that’s a thing it’s like the people I’m married to only think about rocks.”

“I…” Kal raised her hand but let it drop. Her most devastating attack had been with a smoking prayer stone. “It’s not that bad.”

“So what’s your plan?” Cetina rested her hand on her pommel.

“Does someone have a stone that I could use?”

“There’s a spare in the bag.” Cetina passed him a small smooth stone. “Just in case something happened to the others.”

“Thanks. Now…Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, make this stone repel the thoughts of anyone that looks upon it except for those present. May they forget their original purpose and move to other tasks.”

The stone glowed faintly with the loss of mana. Anton placed it at the entrance of the small dividing wall, where it would be seen before the portal.

“That’s a good start.” Anton nodded gently. “Tethra’s power just seems more and more like it’s open to abuse. Did she ever have many people that bared her Glyph?”

“Jira seemed content to let me have my power.”

Jira said that you ripped the power from her in some sort of rage. She was more than a little pissed…How come Kal didn’t do something like that? Or Shawn or Jocelyn? Their gods have some power at least.

“We should leave a Strohierite bound Lightning Crow here.”

Anton took a small Strohierite stone from a pack and bound a Lightning Crow within. Their tests showed that the creature didn’t disappear, at least for a few days, or could be forced back into the stone. However, they didn’t need to eat and were content to sit and wait for instructions. He placed the stone in the furthest corner and instructed the crow to incapacitate anyone that entered the side room without them. Anton knew that it might make things difficult but the creatures were open to receiving new orders, seemingly without consequence.

Anton patted the small Lightning Crow. “I think that should be enough. If the door were to shock someone or simply refused to budge no matter what keys they used would instantly arouse suspicion. And even if we bared the door they could just break down the wall and come in. Just having someone forget why they came in here would be best, that way they'd think everything's normal. And this little guy behind that. We’ll keep the portal off on our end until we need it.”

“I wonder if we’ve run into these before.” Verona tapped the glowing stone with her gloved finger. “The Accursed Forest could be full of them but we just simply walk past without remembering.”

“We certainly could have. I’m sure that a Principle Mage would know something’s wrong. But that’s something we can work out later…Imagine if there’s an entire community surviving in the forest. Perhaps that’s how the Goblins and other monsters seem impossible to eradicate. Always a safe refuge with these things. Maybe something made from the White Realm…”

“That’s a troubling thought.” Kal refastened her mask. “To think the Old Gods are inadvertently responsible for the Goblins continued menace.”

“Maybe misused magic…” Anton stopped at the door. “Then there are those Ancient Listener cultists. They seemed pretty friendly with the Goblins. Somehow. We need some Beast-kin to make this next step easier. They’re not just going to walk through a shining white disk in the bowels of a ship on their own accord.”

---[]---

Anton rested a hand on the side door of the barn in Atros. “Thank you for coming.”

“What do you need us for, Anton?” Rasha asked. The blue Minotaur leant against the wall with her arms folded, one hoofed leg against the wall. “Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly.” Anton rubbed his temple. “But I have the next batch of Beast-kin ready to arrive.”

“Already?” Marion scratched the fur on her cheek. “I don’t know if everything’s ready. I’ve been working with the others and we’ve only just started to get ahead building homes and getting a good food supply.”

Anton nodded. “True. But if we don’t do it now it’ll never get done. And these Beast-kin don’t look like they’re in a very good way. Probably worse than Eider was when we found her. Lots of missing fur and open wounds. That sort of thing.”

Eider groaned, her hood pulling tight. “And I thought being nearly blind was bad.”

“They were going to try and take you away very soon,” Irso said, the crackle in her voice echoed throughout the barn.

“Yeah…” Eider nodded glumly, her forked tongue licked at the air. “I know. But I still don’t like thinking about any of it.”

“So how can we help?” Ulyaa asked.

“I need someone that Beast-kin will trust. And that’s not going to be a human or a half-breed. I want them to know that everything’s going to be alright.”

“When they get here it’ll be fine.” Irso shrugged. “Who cares if you have to carry them in? Or even throw them?”

“I’d still prefer not to.” Anton glanced at Kal. “I don’t know if Kal’s the best person for this, so I need some volunteers.”

“I’ll do it.” Rasha stepped forward. “But…Will I be the right for this?”

“Maybe.” Verona glanced at Anton.

“If they see someone like you, someone who could easily rip an iron link from a pillar, working alongside us it might help.”

Rasha smiled faintly.

Anton clapped his hands. “In fact, it might be best if you all come. If you all did it might make a real difference.”

“Right…” Rasha trailed off, if anything she appeared a little disappointed.

Anton motioned to the open portal behind them. “The Beast-kin are going to be terrified and utterly despondent. It might take you a bit to get them moving, let alone convince them.”

“It might be best to bring a few through first,” Marion suggested. “If we do that they can go back and tell the others what this place is like.”

“Much easier to believe someone you know.” Anton nodded. “Sounds good. Please, head through and we’ll be right after you.”

“So how does this work?” Eider stopped just before the shimmering white edge of the portal.

“It’s very simple.” Anton pushed her onto the disk.

Eider looked back in surprise as she stepped onto the disk. When she completely passed the edge the portal flashed white and Eider disappeared.

“Is she on the boat now?” Rasha asked.

“I think it’s actually a ship. But, yes.” Anton received an odd look from the Drakeling. “I’ll head through, just in case she’s panicking.”

Anton forced himself not to say the word again. Eider’s panic attack hadn’t repeated itself and she didn’t need anyone talking about it, let alone behind her back. Anton took one final glance at the Beast-kin and stepped through. His mind spun in every direction imaginable until the light dissipated. A groan came from a hunched over Eider, Cetina rubbing her back as she struggled to keep her legs straight.

“How are you doing, Eider?”

Eider glared at him as he stepped off the portal, her eyes nothing more than angry slits. “What is that? Why does it feel so awful?”

“I don’t know.” Anton held her back and chanted a healing prayer. “Seems this is just a side-effect that we can’t quite work out. Besides, you’ll only be going through it a few times.”

Eider suppressed a gasp, requiring another pat from Anton. “It’s still horrible. If I’d known what would have happened, and it wasn’t you, I’d have run straight out the door.”

Anton gently patted her head as she righted herself. “Now, where are the others?”

The portal flashed and Marion and Kristof stepped through. After a step they groaned and held their heads hard.

“Ugh.” Kristof groaned and wandered off the portal, Anton took his muscled arm. “That’s almost as bad as the drugs they gave us.”

Anton chuckled. “It can’t be that bad.”

“I want to be sick.” Marion almost stumbled back into the portal before Kal guided her away. “Kal, why did you let Anton make something so awful?”

Kal gently patted her mothers’ hand. “It’s fine. You get used to it.”

Rasha and Ulyaa stepped through next. Both suffered from the distortion but Anton and Cetina pulled them through. Anton was surprised how warm their bodies were, though that might have been the surprise that he held their hands so delicately, even Rasha’s who felt like he was a child grabbing an adults’. Irso came through last, her Drakeling heritage gave her some sort of immunity to the distorting effects, though she had to scrunch her eyes several times.

“Everyone ready?” Anton asked.

A dull murmur of agreement came back. Rasha raised her hand as she looked at the chain link almost ripped free from the wooden pillar. Marion sniffed at the air.

“Do I smell blood?”

“Oh...” Anton stopped at the door. “We had a little run-in with some pirates. Don’t worry.” Anton raised his hands to placate a worried Marion. “It was barely a fight. They were smart enough to realise the dangers of wooden ships and fire. Especially after I set one alight.”

“Please tell me when we get back.” Marion's voice was almost pleading.

“I will.”

Eider licked at the air, nodded in confirmation to the others.

Anton opened the door to a waiting Ceccitol and Tuccac.

“It’s strange that you can just bring people through that portal like that.” Ceccitol glanced at Rasha, the blue Minotaur had to duck underneath the door. “Especially a giant like her.”

Anton saw her eyes glance to Rasha’s voluminous chest and then to her own. Hers weren’t unobservable but compared to the Minotaurs, and many of the women present they were rather sad. Except for Eider, much to her continued annoyance.

“Wow,” Eider whispered to Anton. “They really don’t look good.”

Anton shook his head. “No, they don’t.”

The Beast-kin all sat huddled in the shadows cast by the dim light. Upon seeing the Beast-kin with the humans and Dark Elves they were equally intrigued and terrified.

“Are the human sailors on the deck?” Anton asked.

Tuccac nodded. “They are.”

“Make sure they don’t come down.”

“I think they’re going to talk about six hundred slaves just disappearing.” Those closest to Tuccac began to panic, their bodies folding in on themselves as they contemplated their last moments in the dull musty confines of this ship.

Anton sighed. “Please do your best, everyone. See if you can find a Beast-kin that’s receptive. Even one will do.”

The Beast-kin began to disperse through the huddling masses. It was clear as day that they barely recognised that they were once like them, cowering at any sign of being noticed and praying to long presumed dead gods for salvation.

Why did Marion know about Tethra?

Anton caught Irso painstakingly move through the masses of cowering Beast-kin.

I suppose the Drakelings had something to do with that. But where did Kal’s medallion come from? There’s no way they’d be allowed something that big. Did she steal it from someone?

Anton waited in silence until a few fresh Beast-kin were standing. They were scared and utterly terrified, those with tails had them tucked tight between their legs as they were slowly brought to Anton. Of all the Beast-kin Eider was having the most success, with four canines and two felines with her.

“It’ll be alright,” Eider spoke softly to the Beast-kin. “I thought it was the end too. But you’ll see how much better things will be. Trust me. I was almost blind, my scales were peeling off and I was having trouble walking. But then Anton, this man, healed me and brought me to my new home, a place safe from Seocuria, and soon it’ll be your home too.”

None of the Beast-kin believed her, not that Anton really expected them too. The reality was simply too outlandish. Eider had trouble directing the Beast-kin into the small room. Kal didn’t need to tell him why they were so frightened.

Anton’s eyes were drawn to the closest Beast-kin, his arm had been broken and healed terribly, the blunt end of the healed bone pushed against his skin.

“Does it hurt?” Anton asked softly.

Fear drenched the Feline’s face. “I’m fine!” He screeched. “I can still work! You won’t even notice this, I work just as hard as everyone else.”

“I…”

This is going to be a long process.

“Please give me your hand.”

The Beast-kin winced, desperate not to show any frailty or weakness. Anton felt the trembling off this poor, terrified creature. He chanted a healing prayer, just to fix the malformed limb. His limb clicked as mana flowed from him and into the Beast-kin. He looked down in shock, flexed his hands and rubbed his arm.

“How?”

“Magic.” Eider chuckled. “They have magic that can heal anything. And this is one of the few humans that actually wants to see us free.”

The Beast-kin glanced at Eider, her smile was a little intimidating with all her sharp teeth, and then to Anton.

“T-Thank you.” He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“Do not worry yourself over it.” Anton gently patted his hand. The fur was nowhere near as soft as Kal’s fur. “But I want you to help us however you can. That goes for all of you.” Anton looked at the others, all stunned by the healed wound. “But right now I need you to follow Eider.” Eider gave a tiny wave. “It’ll be a little strange, and I know that you probably have doubts trusting the words of a human but I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

It’s not like they have much of a choice.

The Beast-kin slowly nodded. Anton smiled and stepped to the side, ushering them forward. Inside several Dark Elves waited with their weapons drawn. At least it would be enough to discourage any last-second attempts at a breakout. With a tentative tap of the white disk the new Beast-kin stepped through with Eider following closely behind, Anton heard her grumble something just before the jump. Over the next several minutes the others led their Beast-kin through the portal. Anton healed each group, as an incentive of sorts which truly appeared to calm their nerves.

“The way you were talking.” Cetina tapped a hand on the wooden wall. “It sounded a lot like the Church of the Holy Father. And those people in Graterious.”

“That…That wasn’t my intention.” Anton frowned lightly. “But, in this instance, it might actually be the easiest way to get my message across. Come across as some sort of saviour.”

“At least it’s better than what you said in Soulthor.” Verona sniggered.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” The portal flashed as Eider and several Beast-kin stepped back through. “But this will work.”

The Feline Beast-kin raced past and knelt amongst their friends. Eider moved clear of the door and stood before Anton, taking great pains not to accidentally stand on anyone. Both of the Minotaurs had come dangerously close to that.

“They love it,” Eider whispered, a smile on her scaled face. Her tongue licked at the air. “They just stood still for so long. Watching humans and Beast-kin working and living side by side.”

“And our refugees?”

“I don’t think they were too happy to see the Seocurians but seeing the other Beast-kin not lashing out…” Eider scratched her cheek. “I think for now they’re just confused. Everyone else that came through looked the exact same. Just…stunned.”

“Thanks, Eider.” Anton patted her shoulder. “It wouldn’t have worked without having someone they can trust. Can you slowly free the Beast-kin and send them to Atros? Not too many at a time, and make sure they get settled?”

Eider nodded furiously. “Of course, Anton. I’ll make sure they get to Atros safely. Is it possible that I could keep doing this in the future? I really like it. The looks on their faces are fantastic. The way it changes from hopeless to ecstatic. Truly wonderful”

“Sure. Having someone dedicated to this would really help. But make sure that you don’t get hurt, in case there’s an incident. Your safety comes first, alright?”

“It’ll be more fun than picking fruit.” Eider laughed. “Still so much better than being back in Seocuria.”

Anton swore that her hips were swaying slightly as she walked, even her tail appeared to flick slightly.

Well, I guess mine does that too now. I wonder what they’ll say when they see this. Not until we’ve got the Dark Elves sorted out.

“Now what?” Kal asked.

Rasha and Irso stuck their heads through the door. Anton pointed to Eider as she began to move large groups of slaves to the door. Irso chuckled at Rasha, who clicked her tongue, and moved through to the masses of slaves.

“Once they’re through we’ll head up and speak with Wilford,” Anton said. “Hopefully it should be straight to The Shadow Isles. But I’d like to speak with Marion first.”

“Why?” Kal frowned lightly.

“I want to know how she, and therefore you, even knew about Tethra. It’s not just knowledge you’re born with.”

---[]---

“Where did I hear about Tethra?” Marion sat on a crate on the furthest side of the secluded room next to Anton. “I’m not actually sure. I know that I was very young.”

Anton rested his boots, his feet were very sore from being cramped, onto a smaller crate. “I really wanted to know. I don’t know if it’ll make a difference to Atros but I want to know more about you.”

I know Kal will like us getting along better. I think we do right now, but it’s tempered knowing that a human’s sleeping with her daughter. And with another human.

“Is it alright for me to stop?” Marion asked, leaning forward and scratching at the ground with her clawed feet. As she moved forward her chest, easily in the top three of Atros, shifted. Anton was curious, for a moment, how far the fur travelled…

“Everyone else is continuing to work.” Marion nodded to Kristof, trying his best to lead some young Beast-kin through the portal. They were clearly intimidated by his muscular size and required a more gentle touch from Eider and Ulyaa. Nevertheless, he continued on as best he could.

“It’s fine. No one’s going to complain that you’ve taken a few moments off to talk to me.”

Marion chuckled. She leant back against the wall, her clawed hands picked nervously at the skin surrounding the claws. “Thank you. For saving us. And my daughter. I didn’t think she would be alive after all this time.”

“I wish that we could spend some more time in Atros.” Anton smiled. “Actually get to know you. But fate has a way of dashing those hopes.”

“Yes…So, you wanted to know where I heard about Tethra?”

“And the medallion. The one Kal wears around her neck. I don’t think you made that or would have been allowed to own something made from silver. Maybe keep it hidden somewhere. But definitely not in those cages.”

“Before…” Marion shuffled backwards. “I should start from the beginning, I suppose. I was very young when I first heard about Tethra. Before the riots that consumed most of Danafra everything was a lot more relaxed. We slept in…bunkhouses they called it. Anyway, I started talking to an elderly Drakeling. There wasn’t much else to do.”

Marion checked that Kristof had left and leant close.

“The only other thing to do was have sex…The Seocurian’s encouraged it and some of us were more than willing to take it.”

Marion coughed. “Anyway, he told me about the Old Gods but Tethra was the one that stuck with me. I actually found the medallion while working in…” Marion ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t even like thinking the name, let alone saying it.”

“Was it Kal’s…Father?” Anton asked very softly.

Marion nodded, her shoulders drooped along with her ears. “Yes. Him.” Her body shuddered at merely the thought of him. “It was part of his collection of ancient artefacts. But it was near the back and covered in dust. I planned to sell it and got caught…That was the day that I was given Kal.”

Anton didn’t say anything.

Marion slapped her thighs to dispel the silence. “But, that was a long time ago. I’m sorry to say this, Anton, but there really wasn’t anything special about it. I just wanted it for the silver, so I could sell it. After the incident, I ran home and hid it. I didn’t think about it again until I gave birth to Kal.”

“Fending off the other Beast-kin…”

“I had help.” Marion smiled. “The Drakeling Elder told everyone to back away but it didn’t stop them. I wounded more than a few.”

“Do you remember the other artefacts that were with the silver medallion?” Anton gently raised his hand. “I know it’s an unpleasant memory but it is important. And…If it’s important to Rafiki then all the more reason to steal them.”

“You don’t need to convince me about that.” Marion smiled. “Let’s see. There were a lot of medallions and trinkets, but they were made from wood or iron, so they couldn’t be sold for much. There were a lot of books and staffs. I don’t know what they were for. But there was a pile of these yellowy brown stones. Hundreds of them. Some were as large as my head but most were slightly smaller than my fist.”

“Were they eleven sided? It’s very important if they are.”

Marion was taken aback by Anton’s intensity. “I, I think so. It was a long time ago.”

“I think we’ve got our first target once we’ve dealt with The Shadow Isles. Do you know which house he lives in?”

“No. He doesn’t live in Danafra anymore. Some of the guards…trying to torment me, said he lives in a fortress inland. I don’t think he’d leave his possession’s inside Danafra.”

“Oh well. Once we’ve dealt with The Shadow Isles, and while the Dwarves are moving in…There’s so much happening at once.”

“Once that’s done will you be taking a break? I would like some time to talk with you both, and not in the bottom of a ship.”

“Me too.”

Anton turned his attention to the portal. This time Rasha led a small group through. Though Marion didn’t speak a word she was irritated by Rasha. Not immensely but Anton could see the subtle creases and expressions.

She must have seen the two sparing and enjoying themselves.

“Didn’t think you were the type to get jealous.”

“What?” Marion’s claws gripped into the side of the crate. “Why do you say that?”

“Your tail. The way it moved when Rasha walked in.”

Marion manoeuvred her tail into her lap. Though not as long as Kal’s it still was one of the longest, shorter than his, though it lacked the three fan ends.

“It was behind my back.” Marion threw Anton a derisive look. “So you would have had to be looking at my butt.”

“No. Just the part sticking out. I know what it means by how it behaves.”

Marion grumbled. “If you were just to take Rasha as one of yours things would be a lot easier. Though she was a pain she’s straightened up a lot since you freed her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. You already have three…”

Anton laughed. “That might be a little too much, even for me. I’m more worried that she’d hurt me accidentally, she’s the second strongest here, after your Kristof.”

Marion smirked. “Yeah…Big old lump.”

“There’s just one more thing I want to know.” Anton began. “And this is something that I’m sure that Kal doesn’t know, but how did she escape Danafra? I know there was a fire and she was thrown from the wall…From what I know you aren’t the kind of person who would just do that.”

Marion stretched out her legs again. “Rafiki…I hate saying that name, he found out that Kal could have children. So he wanted to find out what a quarter-breed was like.” Marion shook her head. “Something about how his blood created a perfect half-breed. A lot of them are sort of mismatched. They’ll have arms and legs that are fully Beast-kin and the rest isn’t.”

“Though they never saw the next day, did they?”

“No. No, they didn’t. I knew that it was going to happen the next day, Rafiki wanted to do it right, whatever that means. A lot of drugs and…So I managed to convince some of the local leaders to riot.”

“You started an entire rebellion?” Anton smiled. “To save your daughter. That’s some real determination. I’ll definitely need to keep an eye on you then.”

“Only if they’re willing to have sex with a full Beast-kin.”

“What?”

Marion looked around. “Don’t tell Kristof this but I did what I had to do to save my daughter. A lot of Beast-kin wanted me. And for a long time.”

Marion bounced her breasts up. “Men tend to get distracted by these.”

“So you managed to convince a whole bunch of horny men…Was that before or after the riot?”

“Both.” Marion chuckled. “Though after the riot I didn’t need to fulfil many of those requests. Some of them weren’t smart enough to ask for it before the riot. Anyway, while they did their thing, they were looking for any excuse to riot and bring down the Seocurian Empire at this point, even though that's impossible for us, I took Kal and tried to escape. I ran into this mercenary, he looked a lot like you, light skin I mean. He was fighting against a Minotaur, so I grabbed a wooden pole nearby and broke his leg.”

Alfred?

“I didn't stop to find out what happened to him. When I reached the wall I could see the entire city was burning. I didn’t expect that. But I saw the Seocurians had taken control of the gates and they had started to flood the walls. Hundreds of soldiers, and they weren't taking prisoners. There was only one thing I could do. I found a patch of bushes near the wall, told her to run and threw Kal over. I…” Tears welled in Marion’s eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to make that choice. But it was the only way for her to survive. She wouldn’t have had even a slaves life. If I couldn’t get her out I’d have made sure she didn’t suffer Rafiki.”

“One day.” Anton patted her leg. “One day we’re going to make a move on the Seocurian Empire. I intend to break it. And soon too. If we were to capture Rafiki, would you kill him?”

“Is that even a question?” Marion asked very softly. Her voice sounded identical to Kal when she was angry, a faint growl underlying each word.

“I suppose not. But right now we need to help these poor souls get the help they need.”

Chapter 128 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - The Calm

Chapter 128 Pt.1:

The dry lands of Seocuria gave way to the lush grasslands and forests of Bebbezzar, just as Cetina had described. Just as the border between Graterious and Seocuria the change was stark and sudden. What Anton noticed first was the workers; they changed back to humans and looked far, far happier. So too was Cetina. There wasn’t anything quite like coming home. Though Anton didn’t truly miss Earth there was a longing deep in the back of his mind.

“Should I be asking where the extra supplies are coming from?” Wilford stood next to Anton, the girls were some distance away trying their hand at fishing. “I know we didn’t take on this much.”

“I think it’s best not to think about it too much.” Anton smiled. “Just know that they are good.”

“Right…”

The Snowberry had stopped in an additional Seocurian port, not Danafra but a nearby minor port, where Anton established a secure portal. Though Atros didn’t have the capacity to take in that many Beast-kin they were now ready to strike at Seocuria at any time.

Soon rather than later, if The Shadow Isles turn out to be easy…

“But.” Anton raised his hand. “Make sure the crew knows not to say anything.”

“I understand. It’s just a little strange, is all.”

Anton motioned to the small cliffs and open shores of Bebbezzar. “Anything you know about Bebbezzar?”

“If you want to hire some mercenaries this is your place.” Wilford began. “Also a great place to get ripped off. A lot of things aren’t what they seem, but they have this way of convincing you you’re about to miss out on a good deal.” Wilford shook his head and sighed, resting both hands on the wooden railing. “They’ve got me a few times.”

“Cetina knows a thing or two about haggling.” Anton mused.

“But they have a lot of good gear, once you look past the crap. You might even find some stuff from the Wood Elves. Now those are some expensive weapons. Beautiful, but expensive.”

I still get the feeling that Verona’s spear is one of their weapons. Perhaps a gift to the Kar Kingdom that found its way into the hands of the Goblins. Good thing it’s safely back in Atros right now.

A Dwarf, Umikgruid, ran up the stairs from the lower levels and the portal back to Atros. The Dwarves spent little time on The Snowberry, not that he or the Dark Elves particularly minded, especially when they were continuing to build and improve Atros.

“Anton.” Umikgruid calmed his breath. “We’ve finished the building you wanted. Do you want to inspect it?”

“Sure. Once we get to The Shadow Isles we won’t be going home for a whole.” Anton looked to the Dark Elves at the prow. “There’s not much more we can do now. We’re making good time. Our little forays into Seocuria were very quick…Oh, Wilford, what are the pirates like in Bebbezzar?”

“Not bad. Better than Graterious but worse than Seocuria. Most merchants have a sizeable force on them or move in convoys. Though, all that means is that the pirates work the same way.”

“Well if they try something they’ll end up burning and sinking again.”

“And becoming food for a Leviathan.”

Anton chuckled. He approached the girls as they successfully hauled in a large fish. The silver and blue scales dazzled with the mid-day sun. It flopped and struggled but couldn’t rip itself free from the hook in its mouth.

“Have a look at that!” Verona cried happily to Anton. “Our first fish and it’s this big. What do you think?”

“It’ll make a fine meal, so long as we can have a fire on this ship.”

“But you can do that.” Verona sniggered. “And much more safely too.”

“I don’t like the idea of being nothing more than a portable stove.” Anton sighed. “But it does have its uses. Do you want to come back to Atros with me? Umikgruid says they’ve finished the portal building already.”

“Already?” Kal’s mask glanced at the other girls. “The Dwarves do work quickly.”

“While I’d like to see my home I know it’s not possible right now,” Cetina said. “But I wouldn’t mind getting off this ship.”

Verona sighed lightly. “I’ll have to give this to someone. They can enjoy a nice lunch.”

Verona left the fishing rod and passed the still struggling fish to a human sailor. Surprise plastered his face as he received a veritable gift before giving a small nod of appreciation.

Umikgruid waited near the portal room. He looked very proud with himself as he opened the door. If the craftsmanship of the Dwarves was anything like they claimed he had every reason to. A brief flash of light filled his vision, disorientation wracked his mind, and they were back in Atros. Despite his best efforts, disorientation appeared an immutable part of Tethra’s portals.

“Ugh.” Anton gently pushed the girls forward and off the slightly raised white platform. “Still sucks.”

“Better than walking.” Verona sighed, rubbing her temples.

Kal removed her mask and ripped the cloth wrapping her head free.

“So which things have you actually done?” Anton asked. “There were a few on the list.”

Umikgruid waved to the Atros guards standing nearby. “Let’s see. We’ve got the Bath-House done. That-”

“Is it like how I asked?” Verona’s eyes shot open.

“Almost. We didn’t have the time to make it exactly like you wanted but it’s a lot better than anything you’d find in Qaiviel. Speaking of which…”

Umikgruid opened the door and allowed the light and noise of Atros in. The people wandered by, the hustle and bustle of a growing city in proud display. Some new Beast-kin walked by, still nervous but they already moved with a confidence impossible to find in those still in the chains of Seocuria. Some saw Anton moving past Umikgruid and waved. Anton returned it, some of the Beast-kin girls, at least he was sure those reptiles were girls, giggled and scurried away.

“Not so fast.” Verona sniggered.

Anton pinched her cheek. “Keep that under control.”

“Me?” Verona raised a brow. “Sure…Sure. You just keep thinking that.”

“What were you saying, Umikgruid?” Anton asked.

“We found a small stone in the old Bathhouse, we took that one down since no one will be using it anymore, and it was very hot. No matter what we did it didn’t cool down. Even when we threw it into a barrel of water it just made it hot, after some time.”

“That’s a hot stone,” Anton said. “It’s not dangerous but I thought someone would have told you about it first.”

Umikgruid shrugged. “That’s alright. But it’s a great little thing. We’ve put it into a reservoir and now we’ve got hot water to bathe in.”

“What about the old water?” Anton asked. “I don’t want to be bathing in greasy and dirty water. How did they sort that out in Porswea?”

“They’d probably just drain the water while we were out.” Kal offered.

Verona sighed. “I know that look.” She threw her hands up. “Yet another bloody stone, isn’t it?”

“One that cleans the water? How much will that cost in Earth Mana I wonder?”

“I hate your power sometimes.” Verona’s frown quickly transformed to a smirk.

“That makes things easier.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “I know that my people will enjoy the baths. Your mayor, Bertram, asked us to build some more wells. They weren’t difficult. We’ve also almost finished the portal building. Just the last few pieces and it’ll be done. And we’ve started building the Sovereign Palace too. That’ll take a long time though.”

“The what?”

Verona murmured and waved him down. “You weren’t supposed to say that just yet.”

“Oh…”

“What have you done?” Anton held Verona’s cheek in a pinch.

“It wasn’t just me.” Verona pleaded, though very forced. “Kal and Cetina were in on it too.”

Anton looked up, Kal glanced away while Cetina tried to avoid his gaze. “So what have you, Verona, done?”

“We were going to wait a bit longer, and I thought Umikgruid said they wouldn’t even start until everything else was finished.”

“Everything else was finished.” Umikgruid held his mighty arms over his head and whistled innocently. “Mostly.”

“Essentially…It’s kind of copying what the other people have.” Verona nodded to the north. However, Anton couldn’t see anything over the buildings and stone walls, walls that were slightly higher than before. “They all have a big central building; like Belinda’s mansion, the governor’s mansion in Nonbur’n and Lord Cassius’s Mansion in Porswea. Even the Slave House in Danafra sort of counts. Anyway, since you’re always saying that Atros is going to be a big power one day we need things to match it. And the Main Hall isn’t just good enough for much longer. Some of the new buildings are almost as big right now.”

“I was thinking about building a bigger administration building but not so soon,” Anton said. “We still have walls and homes to build. I honestly think those are more important than a fancy building to rule from.”

“It’s not just that.” Umikgruid continued to stroke his impressive beard. “All Dwarven buildings are strongholds in their own right. If we could find that giant bear man that you have here-”

“I presume you’re talking about Zac?”

“That’s him. He’s in charge of planning for Atros. And we’ve been working with him and he’s assigned fours quare expansion blocks.”

“That’s…A lot.” Anton looked to Mount Aspire. “Just for one building?”

“It’s going to be very big.” Verona chuckled. “It’ll need to be if it’s going to intimidate the Seocurian Empire. When they get here, which they will eventually, they’ll need to know that we aren’t just some rabble.”

Anton relinquished his grip on Verona’s cheek. A slight tinge of worry washed over her face before he pulled her into a hug and kissed her deeply. Umikgruid and Cetina looked away while Kal was a little jealous.

“Thanks, Verona. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably only just have one girl.” Verona laughed. “But I, I mean we, just think of things while you’re distracted with saving the Dark Elves and the Dwarves. Nothing too fancy.”

“Thanks, you two.” Anton kissed Kal. “And thank you, Cetina.”

“Does she want a kiss too?” Kal asked, a smirk on her tanned face. Verona’s mouth flapped open while Cetina shook her head, fighting down a faint redness on her ears.

“Show us this Bathhouse that you’ve made first,” Anton said.

Umikgruid smiled and led them through the streets of Atros towards the south-east. They followed the main street, a circular stone paved road following the internal concentric circles of Atros, past the two innermost walls. A large stone and wooden building lay on the eastern side just before the third gate. The Bathhouse was larger than their home, probably three times as long and at least as wide. There wasn’t much in the way of ornamentation on the outside; the walls were flat and very straight, several small wooden latches adorned the roof to allow a faint trail of steam out while a simple sign hung over the only doorway. Four Atros guards stood outside, male guards.

“I take it there’s a shift change when it’s time for women to bathe?”

“That’s up to Jeff,” Umikgruid said. “But I’m pretty sure it is. Tonight’s going to be the first time it’s used. Everyone’s pretty excited.”

“It looks really good.” Anton nodded appreciatively, patting Umikgruid’s shoulder, after bending down slightly. “Well done.”

Umikgruid laughed. “Nothing can ever beat the skill of the Dwarves in building. No one. Do you want to have a look inside first?”

“Please, lead on.”

“I want to take a bath,” Verona whispered into Anton’s ear. “Though I think Cetina might want to give it a pass again. I don’t think she’s had one yet.”

Cetina’s face and hair was a little greasy and stained from the salty sea air. Nevertheless, she had taken care of her appearance as best she could, but she really could do with a proper wash. She caught Anton looking, tilted her head when Anton smiled and looked forward again. Cetina shrugged but ran a gloved hand through her rough hair, crinkling and cracking as salt and grime fell free.

The guards allowed them through with little more than a sideways glance. Anton whistled as the interior was laid bare. A large central stone pool rippled with clean water. One side was very shallow, about the same height as a Dwarf, while the furthest was far deeper, almost able to submerge Rasha. Small torches hung from walls, casting a gentle flickering orange light over the grey stones. On the far wall, a large open wooden cabinet had been built with dozens upon dozens of small wooden boxes. A small wiccan basket lay in each to store clothes in.

Kal laughed. “This is incredible.”

“We do our best.” Umikgruid pointed to the ceiling. “We’ve even got some sky-lights, in case you want some natural light or want to look at the stars while you bathe.”

Kal dipped a clawed finger into the pool. “It’s cold…But nothing that we can’t fix.”

“I can’t wait to use this.” Verona pumped her fists. “Privately, of course.” She leant around to look at Cetina. “I think you might have to go with others.”

Cetina pulled a face. “I’d still prefer not to.”

“Is there a problem?” Anton asked.

“I…”

“Tell me then.” Verona gently tapped on Cetina’s chest piece. “I’ve been wondering what your problem is. I understand not bathing with men but I’m a girl too so you can tell me.”

Cetina sighed, knowing the issue wasn’t about to go away. As she whispered into Verona’s ear Verona threw up a silver brow before pulling her head back.

“That’s a thing?”

Cetina nodded.

“But what’s the problem then?”

“It’s just…”

“It’s fine.” Verona patted Cetina’s shoulder. “We won’t force you to bathe with others. But honestly, I think you’re overreacting a little.”

Cetina shrugged and folded her arms. Verona returned to his side, winked but gave no words.

“So how does water get into the pools?”

Umikgruid walked excitedly to the far side. Just below the water level was a metal grate. He pointed to the eastern wall, a reservoir had been built into the wall.

“When it’s time to change the water we simply drain it and fill it with more water,” Umikgruid explained. “There’s a drain near the bottom and that goes to the pond just the other side of the wall. Since this part of Atros is on a slight slope we decided to build it here.”

“A pond sounds nice.” Anton nodded. “Lots of fish, birds and reeds to deal with the dirty water. It’s not sewage after all. Hell, it could even be expanded and give the Seocurians something that almost reminds them of home…There haven’t been any bad things happening while I’ve been gone, have there?”

“Not that I’ve heard. The aqua feline woman, I believe her name is Marion, has been keeping the newer ones with older groups, so they understand what’s going on and don’t lash out.” Umikgruid shrugged. “At least that’s what they told me.”

Kal beamed with pride.

Anton spared a glance for Verona as she rolled her eyes. “Do you have some spare stones from building this? Looks like you’ve got to load it by hand.”

Umikgruid scratched his head. “Back on the Dwarven Isles we wouldn’t have to. But here, without any of our equipment…Yes. Let me just go and get one.”

Umikgruid returned with a few cast off chunks. Anton took the stones but saw the trail of dirt they had left behind, dirty boot prints on the otherwise immaculate floor. He made a note to apologise to whoever would have to clean up after them.

“Do you want to try making one of these a Mana Bath?” Cetina asked, leaning close to the stones. “Since you have the opportunity.”

“Not this time. Most people don’t benefit from this.” Anton bounced the stones. “And I’m sure that’s going to cost a lot of Earth Mana. We’ll have to get the Dwarves to make a smaller bath for that. Whenever we get some sort of magical school worked out.”

He held the stone and enchanted it to slowly clean the water using Earth Mana. The stone faintly glowed, indicating that something was working, but that was all. He threw a glowing stone into the baths. Nothing changed. He tapped his dirty boot into the water, trails of mud and dirt swirled through the crystal clear water. Instead of slowly settling to the bottom they faded away. Not dissolving but actually disappearing. He knelt close to watch them completely vanish.

“Seems that the larger bits take a lot longer.” Anton dipped his hand into the water. “Hmm. Doesn’t sting or irritate. So there’s a good sign. I think we can even use these to wash clothes if there’s ever a lull in the usage. I just hope that it doesn’t consider a person as an impurity to be removed.”

“Let’s not go first then.” Verona chuckled.

After he and Kal created the remaining three purifying stones he turned to the reservoir of water.

“I’ll make another water stone,” Anton said as he began to climb a small wooden ladder to the side.

A thick mortar filled the gaps between the stones, perfectly sealing the reservoir from the inside. The only place they could get the ingredients for something that fine was from the nearby lake, a place they had yet to properly investigate and pacify. Anton found a crevice to wedge the stone securely. He wiggled the stone and it barely budged. He chanted a prayer to fill the water until it reached the level of the stone and cease if it was ever moved from its position. He didn’t want something that could flood the city by accident or on purpose.

“Umikgruid? Can you try letting out some of the water?”

The Dwarf ran back outside while motioning Anton to remain on the ladder. A few seconds passed before a heavy groan emanated from the pools. The water began to swirl and tumble, draining towards a fine grate at the bottom of the pool. When a third had disappeared the groan came back and water stopped. Umikgruid returned with an expectant look.

“Perfect,” Verona said. “Worked perfectly.”

“Can we see this pond when we’re done?” Kal asked. Cetina appeared moderately interested too.

“Right after we check that this stone actually works. What do we need to do?”

“Pull that lever near the floor.” Umikgruid pointed down. “It’s pretty heavy though.”

Anton gripped the metal lever, hidden behind the shadow of the reservoir, and pulled. It was very heavy but it still moved underneath. He felt something move underneath his feet, followed by the sound of rushing water. Water gently poured from the metal grates and began to refill the pool. When he climbed the ladder the reservoir had dropped enough to have fallen below the stone. The stone leaked water from the ether. It was quite slow but unending.

Anton shook his hands dry. “This is absolutely perfect. If something goes wrong with the wells we can just use this.”

“A saboteur might not think to check a Bathhouse for a fresh supply of water.” Cetina looked at the bath as Anton descended the ladder. “At least I wouldn’t.”

Anton waited until the pools were almost full before wrenching the lever closed.

“This is perfect, Umikgruid. Everyone will love this.” Anton patted the Dwarf’s shoulder again. “I don’t know how much this would have cost normally but I’m imagining it’s a lot.”

Umikgruid slowly nodded. “Be glad that we’re working for free right now. Won’t always be that way, but the work of the Dwarf’s doesn’t come cheap.”

Anton would never air such thoughts but wanted to take full advantage of the Dwarves before they had to start paying. Hopefully, they weren’t keeping a list.

Outside Umikgruid showed the small stone drain leading underneath the stone wall into the next ring with a metal grate blocking any access. The Dwarves were proving to be very thorough. The pond, the same size as the new Bathhouse, had attracted some visitors. This wasn’t just some puddle in the mud. A row of large rough stones surrounded the edge, preventing people from falling in accidentally. Plants, reeds from the lake, dotted the exterior of the pond and small weeds had taken root. Small fish darted through the slim shade, terrified of the moving shadows of potential predators while nibbling on small insects and plants with a ravenous hunger. Several people had gathered and observed the gentle pond with a serene expression. Anton found it very peaceful too. Once the onlookers recognised them they scattered, leaving only a lonely solitary guard at the stone edge, hopefully to prevent dumping of rubbish.

“That never gets annoying,” Anton mumbled. “I mean, I understand why, but it still gets on my mind after a while. I haven’t done anything bad to them.”

“They don’t want to take the chance to annoy you,” Kal spoke flatly. “They clearly weren’t working…”

“I suppose.” Anton gently slapped his cheeks. “But this is nice. It doesn’t take in any of the sewage, does it?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “It’s simply not big enough. But if you’ve got those stones of yours I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“I’d like to have both methods.” Anton folded his arms before waving to the pond. “If I rely just on magic, and someone breaks it, well, we’ll be swimming in shit in but a few days.”

“An unpleasant thought.”

“At least we’ve got some lovely fish.” Verona sighed. “I wish I could have taken that one from The Snowberry with us.”

Kal raised a brow. “You could have, you just gave it away instead.”

Verona glumly agreed.

Umikgruid began walking back into Atros. “Next are the new wells. You only had one before, I can’t believe a city this big only had one.”

Anton said. “Indeed. But I think it was getting close.”

Umikgruid led them towards the west. He stopped at a new well surrounded by Atros villagers. Each held a large bucket, a large Beast-kin pulled up and distributed the water.

“This...” Anton glanced at Kal. “This doesn’t remind you of Seocuria?”

Kal nodded. “A little. But he seems to be enjoying himself and isn’t tired. If it was Seocuria there’d be someone whipping him for just daring to look up rather than work constantly.”

Umikgruid clapped his hands. “But I’m sure that you want to see the main reason you’re back here.”

---[]---

A thought had bubbled through the back of Anton’s head while he was deploying the portals. If someone found a way to force open the portal, possible with the versatility of Principle Magic against their own, an army could pour through before anyone realised. The portals couldn’t be housed in barns forever. Doubly so since that space was needed for food and other supplies. Anton had only given the vaguest idea of what he wanted from it but the Dwarves had been very excited. Gosthilda said it was something about being given a challenge. Now they stood before their work. A squat stone building, the size of four small houses stuck together, lay in a section of the concentric rings devoid of homes. The area was filled with some sort of armoury and many barracks buildings. The military district, whatever that really meant for somewhere like Atros. Several new guards, mainly Beast-kin, were being measured for armour before being sent towards the Training Fields for some much-needed practice.

Four Dwarves moved on top of the portal building, laying the last of the timber for the roof. However, they weren’t lifting the pieces up. A large blue being lifted the wooden logs up to the eagerly awaiting Dwarves. Rasha effortlessly picked up another log when she saw them approach.

“Hello!” She almost dropped the log as her short tail whipped happily through the air. “What…What are you all doing here? I thought you were still on the ship.”

“We did come back a little while ago.” Anton smiled.

She coughed to calm herself and smiled at the other girls. “How are you all doing?”

“Pretty good.” Verona chuckled. “Seems like Irso would be teasing you right now.”

Rasha frowned as Verona nodded to the wooden log. “Oh. Yeah. Well, it’s really the only thing that I’m good at.” The Dwarf above clapped his hands and Rasha passed up the log. Her large muscles tensed but didn’t strain, the Dwarf required a second pair of hands to pull it up.

“I’m glad you didn’t get free of those chains.” Anton mused.

Rasha’s ears pulled back as her hooves scrapped on the ground. “I didn’t know back then.”

“Another one, please.”

“Right!” Rasha’s large fingers twitched as she lifted another wooden log.

“The Dwarves don’t seem to care about having a Beast-kin help.” Kal smiled faintly.

“Are you kidding?” Umikgruid laughed. “Should have more of them. Look at how quickly she can lift things. It’d have taken a lot longer without her.”

Rasha smiled. After nearly forty years the number of times she had heard praise could probably be counted on one hand.

Anton approached the building. “Are you just a labourer?”

“I’m still training.” Rasha turned to Cetina. “Without Cetina, it’s a little hard to get a training partner, so I just have to try my best by myself. Sometimes Kristof’s there so I can practice. I think I hurt him the last time.”

Anton raised a brow. “You hurt that slab of muscle?”

Rasha glumly nodded. “I think so. At least that’s what Marion said. She doesn’t want him going there without her going as well.”

Rasha sighed and ran a hand through her red hair. In doing so her upper body bounced.

Perhaps Marion doesn’t want Kristof sparring with someone like you? You’re both Minotaurs after all and sparring partners can become good friends. Forging of friendship in battle and all that. Plus you are one of the biggest people in Atros, in more ways than one.

Rasha squeaked a noise as he looked at her face, she grew increasingly flustered as she thought too deeply about the matter.

“I don’t think I’ll be much of a challenge.” Anton chuckled. “You’ve seen how I fight. But for now, I’m going to have to ask you to endure. Sometimes there are things, actions, taken by others that are well out of your control.”

“I…Don’t understand but I’ll do my best.” Rasha nodded proudly.

“What about the others?” Kal asked. “How are they doing?”

“Irso’s doing well in the smithy.” Rasha passed up another log. “And I think Eider and Ulyaa are still helping with the harvests.” Rasha shrugged. “It’s kind of like Seocuria but this is so much better.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Anton received a look from Umikgruid, he was getting a little impatient to show off their work while he was merrily chatting with Rasha. “We’ll talk to you later then, Rasha.”

“Bye, everyone.” Rasha waved and continued lifting the logs as they moved inside.

Verona pulled Cetina down and whispered something in her ear. While Anton couldn’t hear he did see Cetina’s face turn flat yet somehow deeply irritated.

The interior of the portal building was quite large once they passed through the door. Twelve doors, four on each side, lined the interior. A small fire in the centre illuminated the room and slits, embrasures, lay either side of the doors.

“Here we are,” Umikgruid said happily. “This is what we’ve come up with. Each of the rooms links to a different portal. And the locks…” Umikgruid tapped a large plank of wood resting next to the door. “Are on the outside. If someone were to breach a portal they’d just be stuck in here. We can just bolt these shut and shoot through these embrasures and whittle them down.”

Anton looked through the small slit in the wall. It gave a very good line of sight over the centre of the room, most importantly where the portal stones would lay.

“And if it gets really bad we could just shoot one of the stones and cut them off from this side.” Anton patted the stone. “Or some sort of explosive magic. I think a mage would be needed to get through this.”

“If a mage of that strength came through there isn’t much that we could do right now.” Umikgruid’s fingers played with the metal bands on his beard. “I mean, when we get our equipment to Atros then we won’t have a problem making something that could deal with magic like that. But this will have to do for now.”

“It’s still fantastic work.”

“Do you Dwarves sleep?” Verona asked, a slight smirk on her face. “I’m being a little serious here.”

“I mean you drink like fish drink water,” Anton added.

Umikgruid laughed. “The booze you have here is pretty good, for humans, but nothing compared to what we have. I don’t think a human could even handle ours without dying or passing out unless it was watered down, which…which is just a travesty.”

“We have…” Anton looked around the room. “Two portals in Seocuria right now. And they’re on the fall wall.”

Above each room, a wooden plaque denoted the name of the portal city. Anton peeked in to find the ring of stones inside, with one removed from the circle to deactivate the magic.

“That’s a nice touch.”

“And there’s the private one we have back home too,” Verona spoke very softly. “Just in case something happens to this place.”

Cetina pointed to the ceiling. “Why are you making the roof out of wood?” Heavy footsteps, of Dwarves encumbered by wooden logs, thudded above them. “And why are they putting more on top? Is it some sort of defensive measure?”

Umikgruid nodded. “If something really bad happens we can set fire to the roof and smoke them out. We’ve also got some tar to go on there, thanks to those Seocurian portals. And if it gets really bad we’ve put in a few traps, we can just drop the whole building on them. That’ll definitely break the portal and crush them. I know we don’t want to do it but it’s better to have precautions. It’s also a lot easier to build a roof with wood rather than stone.”

“No steel beams yet,” Anton mumbled quietly, Umikgruid raised a brow. “Let’s set up the portal to The Snowberry.”

Anton placed the stones down, the white portal formed while Umikgruid tried to hand up the wooden plaque. Cetina took it, Umikgruid spoke a silent thanks. Anton stepped through the portal and returned to the interior of The Snowberry. He stepped through and returned to Atros, though with a terrible headache.

“It’s still bad.” Anton reached out and received Verona’s hand. “But it’s getting better.”

Verona laughed. “Not so good when you step through it twice so quickly.”

“It’ll free up the guards at least.” Anton rubbed his temples until the feeling dissipated, he didn’t want to always rely on his magic for something so mundane. Kal broke the portal to reduce the Earth Mana usage. “What about this Sovereign Palace you started to build behind my back.”

“It’s not that bad.” Verona delicately intertwined her fingers with his. “I’ve seen some of your drawings. Compared to some of those this is actually quite simple.”

Anton kissed her. “Perhaps. But how much have you got done?”

“Just the base right now.” Umikgruid tapped the floor. “If anything we’ll still be levelling the ground for the next-”

Three short trumpet blasts echoed through the building. A heavy thudding came from outside as Rasha’s head came though. The door was wide enough for her but nowhere near tall enough, she struck her horn upon the doorway but didn’t miss a beat.

“It’s that sound!” Rasha’s voice was panicked. “Coming from the west again. What do we do?”

“It’s three blasts,” Anton said calmly. Another three blasts interrupted his attempt to speak. “Remember what it was last time?”

“It was the Dark Elves.” Rasha’s eye flickered to Umikgruid. “And the Dwarves…And humans.”

“Exactly. So not a threat.”

“For now.” Kal corrected.

“Yes…Do you have armour or that Halberd yet?”

“Jonathan, the smith, was working on a full suit but he said it wasn’t ready. He has made a halberd but he said it’s not the best.”

“Perhaps an apprentice?” Verona queried. “They’ve got to start somewhere after all.”

“Go get the halberd and find the other Beast-kin guards,” Anton ordered.

“Right.” Rasha gave a quick nod before leaving.

“Someone like her with heavy armour will be basically unstoppable.” Anton mused, holding his chin. “Imagine her with a ballista.”

“She could probably hold one.” Umikgruid chuckled. “Maybe one in each hand.”

“She seemed quite excited to think there might be some action again.”

“Oh. I have an idea.” Verona teased, a finger worming its way underneath his armour. “You’ve already got one bodyguard. But I don’t know if that’s going to be enough. Do you want another one?”

The three horns blew again. Anton waved them outside.

“While…While Cetina is probably going to be unmatched with a sword against normal soldiers another hand would be helpful. Especially one that could move a boulder without breaking a sweat.” Anton nodded. “Cetina?”

Cetina glanced at her feet as she frowned lightly. “I…I don’t have a problem with it. When we spared she was very strong and a quick learner, though she got a little too aggressive as the fight dragged on. But that’s not really a problem for now. She seems like a good person.”

“And probably very loyal already,” Verona whispered. Kal heard and rolled her eyes.

“So, yes.”

“Though she can’t come to the human territory she’ll be useful when we explore the wilderness.” Cetina continued. “If we actually do that again. I don’t like what happened at Balefire Mine.”

“Me neither.” Everyone agreed with his words. “Come on. Let’s see who this is.”

It’s not time for Raston to come back yet. So did he run into trouble? Or did he run into someone? Well, there’s only one person that could come from the west…

Chapter 128 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Before the Storm

Chapter 128 Pt.2:

“Thank you, Anton.” Duchess Belinda gently took the fine clay cup and sipped the water. “It’s not my tea, but it’s far better than that stagnant water I’ve had to suffer through these past few days.”

“The journey from Atros to Maxill is a long one.” Anton leant back into his chair. “Though I’m sure you found the lake along the road.”

The Duchess sipped the water again. “Indeed. My escorts were exceedingly happy to find it. Water was starting to run a little low.”

“We have food if you wish,” Anton said.

“Good food,” Verona added, though quickly realising it might not have been the most prudent addition. “Though compared to what we ate in Maxill its pretty plain.”

Belinda chuckled. “I’ve been eating dried rations and hard vegetables for the past seven days. I miss Alfred preparing my meals. Some of the White Dog mercenaries don’t like doing it for me.” She shrugged dismissively. “But they’re being well paid.”

“You have almost a hundred with you,” Kal spoke softly. “Very well armed too. They’re not going to cause problems. Are they?”

“No.” Belinda shook her head. “They are professionals. And professionals know how to behave.”

“So…I think it’s time you told us what the hell is going on.”

Anton looked at those gathered; the same people that had gathered to discuss the Dwarves and Dark Elves, though far more nervous. Cetina had taken Tuccac’s words to heart and kept her sword drawn. It didn’t seem necessary though; Belinda was alone and completely unarmed. And far more conservatively dressed than normal, relatively speaking. Gone was the bright red, gem embroidered Victorian styled dress, replaced with a simple red dress and white gloves. Simple but certainly not cheap. Every stitch and seam had been carefully and delicately crafted.

“Before I do, I’d like to thank you for not attacking us.” Belinda smiled faintly. “I honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t anything like this...But. I have come for your help. I am willing to pay whatever is necessary to gain your assistance. Anything within our power.”

Please don’t offer your sons and daughters to me. Please? Do you even have children? You don’t look that old.

“Is it another Clansmen assault? Or one of the merchant lords in Bebbezzar trying to expand?

Cetina let out a faint whimper at their mention.

Belinda’s eyes judged Cetina closely. “You will have to explain how you were able to convince a Bebbezzarian to join you later.”

“So what is it?” Verona asked. She leant close to Anton. “If it’s more Goblins…”

“The King is dead.” Belinda cast her eyes down. “And now his sons are tearing the Kingdom apart.”

“Another civil war…” Anton ran a hand through his hair. “Just that this one has gone hot.”

“It’s not just a civil war. Or a succession war. It is far worse, for you specifically. Prince Harold and Giles, two sons of the late King Lambert, are backed by The Church of the Holy Father. Once they have dealt with Prince Leo, the only one that hasn’t succumbed to their madness, they plan to launch a crusade to destroy Atros.”

Kal’s fists slammed into the table. “They know about this place? You…You told them? About us? About me? They’ll kill everyone!”

Belinda forced her face to remain flat. “Not exactly. The story is long and dull, I’ll tell you at a later date, but I had to explain your actions during the Clansmen Invasion. And where you came from. I didn’t say there was a city, only that you came from the east. They were smart enough to figure out where you live.” Belinda waved to the roof. “I did too.”

Anton looked to Kal and held her hand tight. “I think a return to slavery is the least of what they will do to you. These people cannot be reasoned with?”

“Unfortunately not. When I left Castle Etoile, the Black Riders Fortress, the enemy had already begun their assault. So far the Royal Army hasn’t launched any attacks either way, Alfred said that they don’t know what to do, but the fanatics of the Church will kill everyone that stands in their way. Right now that means us. Especially me, since I consorted with heretics.”

“And once they’ve dealt with you then they’ll come for us.”

“Exactly. And we left some time ago. I do not know how things fare in Qaiviel right now, but I know that Alfred will not allow the Kingdom to fall without a fight. But if we work together it m-will be possible to defeat them before the entire kingdom is left a desolate husk.”

I need Qaiviel to be prosperous, so I can continue to get resources and people off them. Not to mention a buffer for anything beyond. We can’t just leave them to die.

“I feel like I’m repeating myself a little bit,” Anton muttered underneath his breath. “But there are not many of us that could fight such a war.”

“Indeed.” Belinda locked onto Kal’s bright green eyes. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see them again but they are beautiful. In a wild way."

Kal didn’t quite know how to take the compliment but accepted it all the same.

“But there’s no way that Beast-kin could fight in this war.” Belinda shrugged. “It would only inflame the opposition.”

“I doubt I could convince them to fight for humans after all they’ve done to them. Perhaps I could get six or something but that’d be it.”

“Ah…” Verona sniggered, Belinda sipped at her cup as her eyes flicked between everyone.

“I was only thinking as asking you, Anton, Lady Verona and Lady Kal to join us.” Belinda glanced at Cetina. “Perhaps the Bebbezzarian too, if she’s any good.”

“She’s very good with a sword. Far better than most people.”

“Even with one eye?”

“Even with one eye.”

Belinda’s brows furrowed with the faintest creases but didn’t push the issue. “Four would be more than enough. If you could join us immediately I, and the Qaiviel Kingdom would be extremely grateful. We will arrange whatever payment is necessary. The royal treasury has many vaults overflowing with gold.”

“Though that is tempting there is a slight problem.” Anton cut short her internal celebration. “We are sort of committed to another conflict right now. Helping the Dark Elves in The Shadow Isles.”

“Dark Elves?” Belinda appeared genuinely surprised. “I’ve seen some Dwarves, at least I think they were Dwarves, but no Dark Elves.”

“They’re currently on a ship.” Belinda only frowned as she mulled over the implications of his words. “And they’ll be arriving very soon, earlier than we could reach Maxill if we left right now.”

“I imagine you, of all people, have a way around that, but we need to leave immediately if we are to save the Qaiviel Kingdom. Money is not an issue. But we need your help to survive.”

Anton tapped the table. “Duchess Belinda, could you please give us a moment to discuss this privately amongst ourselves?” Anton waved Cetina forward.

Duchess Belinda bowed her head and gracefully followed Cetina outside. Cetina gave several glances towards the door when she returned to her position.

Anton slumped down his chair. “Can’t it just be one thing at a time? Please?”

Verona chuckled, patted his hand and gently pulled him back up. “So what are we going to do?”

“We can’t just leave them to their own fate.” Anton began. “Even if Qaiviel actually doesn’t affect us that much right now. If she’s telling the truth, and I have no reason to doubt her after coming all this way, then we are in serious danger.”

“We could always do what we did to the Pirate Captain to her.” Verona offered, Kal threw up a brow. “Just to make sure. But even I don’t think someone like her would take the long journey in the carriage just to spring some sort of trap. You did save her life after all, and expand her territory.”

“People can change once money and power is involved,” Cetina said.

“True…”

“Qaiviel will be difficult for me,” Kal said. “I imagine that we’ll be under a lot of scrutiny. And if someone finds out…”

“We can’t just leave either conflict alone.” Anton sighed. “And The Shadow Isles are probably going to be quite difficult for me.” Bertram and Sybil shared a glance. “As much as I hate to say it we may have to split up. Kal should head to The Shadow Isles, not alone…And I don’t know how Qaiviel’s going to like seeing your blood powers, Verona.”

Verona straightened her back. “That settles things. Kal and I go to The Shadow Isles while you and Cetina travel to Qaiviel and help them out of whatever mess they’ve landed themselves into.”

“We’ll need portals so we could easily jump from one conflict to another.” Anton smiled bitterly at his wives. "I'm not going to like being separated from either of you for long.”

“You’ll have Cetina with you, won’t you?” Verona rested her elbows on the table, nestling her head in her palms and shooting Cetina a devilish look. Anton understood the implications but Cetina took a few seconds.

“Not that.” Anton ruffled her hair. “But that will be a problem. Anyway-”

“It doesn’t sound like you have much of a choice,” Bertram said. “Again.”

Anton shrugged. “Not when things are banging on our door. But only us four will go…Oh, Cetina. I should have asked before presuming. Did you want to come with us?”

“I’m your bodyguard,” Cetina spoke adamantly. “There’s no way that I would be forgiven for letting you go to another Kingdom alone.”

She turned to Verona and Kal. Kal smiled warmly while Verona winked. Cetina returned the smile but held back on the wink.

“This won’t have any repercussion for us?” Sybil asked.

“I certainly hope not. Inaction now will definitely lead to our destruction, so long as she’s speaking the truth.” Anton flexed a hand. “And there’s one way to make sure that she is.”

“I think she’s holding something back,” Kal said. “I could see it in her face, when she was talking about who they were fighting. Something behind her eyes.”

“I wouldn’t explain everything in order to get our support. Cetina? Could you please bring her back in?”

Cetina returned with Duchess Belinda. Belinda kept her face calm and flat as she retook her seat.

“Have you come to a decision?”

“Almost. But there are just a few more things that I’d like to ask first.”

Anton rose up and moved to Belinda’s side. She didn’t move away but kept him well within sight. Belinda was a Principle Mage, not very powerful by her own admission, but could still kill him with a first strike. Perhaps her lack of strength was a ruse. There was only her word to go on.

“I will need to hold your shoulder for this next part, or perhaps your hand.”

“And what is this for?” Belinda offered her gloved hand.

The leather was unbelievably soft. “Just to ensure that you’re telling the truth.”

Anton chanted aloud the prayer to ensure Belinda spoke only the truth. The faint white light glowed over her body.

“That was interesting.” Belinda looked to Anton’s hand. “So what happens now? You control my thoughts?”

“No. Just a few questions.” Anton smiled as warmly as possible. “Now, is there anything about this succession war that you’re not telling us?”

“Yes.” Belinda didn’t look overly surprised as the words left her mouth. “Of course there is, but I do not know every detail.”

“Is there something that we should be especially concerned about that you haven’t described?”

“Yes.” Belinda frowned lightly.

“What is that?”

“Stitch Soldiers.” Belinda sighed. “Can I remove my hand now? I’ll explain what they are. Besides, you aren’t holding them as a gentleman should.”

“I don’t particularly appreciate being lied to in such a fashion.” Anton relinquished his hold, the light faded from her. “Lying by omission is particularly egregious.”

Belinda rubbed her chin, the leather was probably rougher than her skin. “Perhaps.”

Anton retook his seat. “So no lying, of any kind, from here on. I don’t want to have to force people to tell the truth like that but I will. So, what are these Stitch Soldiers?”

“I haven’t seen them myself but Marcus, Castor and Prince Leo have seen them. And I trust their word.”

“Didn’t we meet those first two in Qaiviel?” Verona asked before snapping her fingers. “That’s right. They were the ones that insulted us, Castor called us shitty things. And then Anton threatened to blow them all up. Ah, that was a good day.”

“According to Marcus, Castor has mellowed since then.” Belinda nodded. “I think his brush with death put things into focus, at least that’s what Alfred said. Marcus is the Commander of the Blue Firestorm Knight Order, the Knights that routed the remains of the Orc and Clansmen forces.”

“And executed the corrupt governor of Nonbur’n.” Anton murmured.

“Yes…” Belinda scrunched her hands. “Yes, he has that authority.”

“So the Stitch Soldiers?” Verona asked.

“I’d best start from the beginning then.”

Belinda recounted everything that had transpired since their parting: summoned to the capital, their beating and loss of the communication pen, the appearance of the Stitch Soldiers, the strange murder of the King by the Queen and two of the Princes and finally their flight to Fort Étoile.

Belinda took a sip of water. “And that’s basically up until now.”

“Those Stitch Soldiers sound dangerous, to say the least,” Anton said. “Very disturbing. If anything it sounds like necromancy.”

“Have you seen that magic?” Belinda raised a brow. “I haven’t but I’ve heard it is quite an experience.”

Anton smiled bitterly. “Not up close. Those worms reknitting the wounds sounds odd.”

“And removing the lips and eyelids too.” Verona stuck out her tongue. “Gross. And you said that some were women but they’d-”

“Yes. All traces of their womanhood had been removed.”

“Bloody hell.” Verona glanced at her chest, one that Belinda clearly held in contempt. “No thanks. I wonder if it’s the same for the men. What utter crap.”

“Even so they are strong. There is another Knight protecting Prince Leo at the moment, Bernard, and he struggled against one the size of a child. But I’m told they can be killed.”

“Good to know.”

“I have no idea how many there are. I don’t know if The Church of the Holy Father brought out all of them for the coup or if it was just a fraction of what they had.”

“We’ll deal with them when we come to them,” Anton said. “Is there anything else we need to be made aware of?”

“From what I’ve heard the mages of Qaiviel don’t know which side to support. The Church would like to control them but their history isn’t ideal. However, throwing their support behind Prince Leo could put their family’s lives in jeopardy. For now, Harold and Giles are content to leave them alone.” Belinda idly scratched the back of her hand. “But that won’t last when you become involved. I believe that Alfred will try to use that to convince them.”

“Glad to hear that he’s still alive.” Anton patted his thighs. “We will help. I don’t know how much we will be able to do but we will do everything we can. Money and rewards we can discuss at a later date.”

Belinda’s eyes widened in delight. “Thank you. Thank you very much. The Qaiviel Kingdom will not forget this. I was speaking with Alfred before I left about having the Qaiviel Kingdom recognise that the lands of the Kar Kingdom belong to Atros. Just in case someone tries to exploit this land when they realise it’s liveable.”

“Liveable.” Anton smiled. “Not safe.”

“It won’t stop them from trying.” Belinda delicately rose from her chair. “If at all possible I’d like to leave immediately. We have enough food and water for the return trip but some extra wouldn’t go amiss.”

“I’ll see what we can do.” Bertram groaned lightly as he stood upright, as upright as he could. “Though we only have simple foods.”

“That is more than acceptable.”

“We will be joining you in a few moments,” Anton said. “If you’d like to wait in your carriage we’ll finalise our arrangements.”

He motioned for Cetina to escort Belinda out again. This was more of a courtesy rather than forcing her out. Cetina returned with a faint smile on her face.

“She seems happy to get your support,” Cetina said as she returned to her position.

“I bet she is.” Verona laughed. “Now she’s got a bunch of really powerful mages on her side. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

“She might not die,” Kal added. “That’s always something to celebrate.”

“We need a way to keep in contact with each other instantly, so we can move from battle to battle.” Verona mused. “Especially a way that can get around someone not knowing how to read. Yet. I’m working on it.”

“I have an idea about that,” Anton said.

Verona raised her hands, nearly rolling her eyes. “Please no more stones.”

“Not that. Well, not exactly.”

“We’ll get them some supplies.” Bertram and Sybil slowly walked to the door. “I don’t particularly want armed mercenaries inside our city. Ones that probably hate almost half of the people of Atros.”

“We won’t be long.”

“So what’s your idea?” Verona asked.

“Can I have your ring for a second? Both of them?”

“Okay.” Verona shrugged as she, Kal and Anton removed their wedding rings.

“Expensive,” Cetina mumbled.

Anton smiled. “I really wasn’t worried about cost when I bought them.”

He took the three rings, taking a moment to remember that he was actually married to two beautiful women, and clasped them tight.

“Here we go. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, grant the holders of these rings the ability to talk to one another when the rings are worn and held with the other hand.”

Anton passed the rings back. He slipped the ring on and held it tight.

“Can you hear me?”

Verona and Kal jumped.

“It’s like I can hear you inside my head,” Verona said.

“Try thinking it in your mind.”

“Okay.”

“So you can hear me?” Verona giggled. “This is going to be a lot of fun.”

“Anton, does Verona know that her butt’s too big?” Kal’s voice rung in his head.

“What did you say?” Verona’s eye twitched.

Kal kept her face flat. “So she can hear even when you’re not directing it at her.”

“I’m feeling very lost right now.” Cetina idly scratched her head. “Feels like I’m only hearing half of what you say.”

“I think I could easily include you in this if you’d like? Not a ring, but maybe another necklace of some kind. Might need to rework it a little.” Anton held his chin. “Give it a name like a network. That shouldn’t require a new prayer on every item each time we add someone.”

“I wouldn’t hear things that I’m not supposed to?”

“We should only be using this for the most important stuff,” Anton said. “Oh, Kal, can you remove your hand over the ring for a moment.”

“Do you want a tail Verona?”

Verona threw up a brow but nodded all the same.

“So long as you don’t sit on it.” Kal smiled faintly. “That hurts a lot.”

“No funny stuff, Verona.”

Verona scoffed in fake indignation. “I wouldn’t do that. Deliberately. Probably”

“Can we please focus?” Kal asked, her tail hanged low to the ground. “We are about to be separated for some time. Even with the portals, we won’t be able to just hop from one land to the other.”

“I don’t think they’re just going to leave the portal’s alone if they discover them,” Anton said. “I know that I wouldn’t. So we probably will be separated for some time.”

“In that case.” Verona, followed by Kal, took Cetina’s hand. “We need to have a talk, since you’ll be with our husband for the next little while.”

Cetina appeared genuinely worried as they dragged her away. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” Verona winked at Anton. “We just need to have a little chat, that’s all. Anton, we’ll be a little bit. Make sure that Belinda’s alright.”

Anton sighed as Cetina feigned resistance. “Be nice to her. She’s a good girl.”

Verona chuckled, Kal’s ears pricked up as they disappeared to the right and deeper into the Main Hall. When Anton entered the hallway he saw the doorway to their treasury shut. He hoped they wouldn’t be too harsh on her. Cetina didn’t come across as a promiscuous girl, if anything the opposite. Nevertheless, it was girl talk, at least he was sure it was, and it was best to leave it alone.

Once he was outside he understood why Alfred hired this mercenary group. The White Dogs’ were professionals. While some idly roamed they did not leave the small single horse-drawn carriage while Duchess Belinda rested her head out of the window. She watched the people of Atros go about their day, as best they could with a foreign force of almost a hundred very well armed mercenaries placed right in the heart of the city. What most intrigued her and the mercenaries were the Beast-kin, for obvious reasons. To see them like this must have been quite shocking. Especially how humans and even Seocurian’s appeared to get along amicably with them. At least on the surface.

“This is hardly what I expected.” A mercenary broke away from the main group and approached Anton. “Humans, Beast-kin, Seocurians and Dwarves in the middle of nowhere. So much more believable than what Alfred told us.”

Anton recognised the mercenary. Conrad, a mercenary they had first met at the Gravestone, a site where Anton had killed thousands of opponents by himself and cemented one of Verona’s bragging rights about him. He had expressed concerns about Verona’s mental stability upon discovering her power but those were quashed when he saw her strength. Overall he came across as an upstanding mercenary, one who would do exactly as they were told, for enough coin.

“Conrad.” Anton smiled as warmly as he could. “How have things been since Nonbur’n?”

Conrad shrugged. “Okay, all things considered. We didn’t get much of the credit for defeating the invasion, those Knights got most of it, but that’s standard. We were paid really well so there’s not a lot to complain about.”

“Spent all that gold?”

“Some have. But we’ve been in Alfred’s employ ever since, mopping up bandits and keeping the place under some semblance of control. Paid well too, so no one’s going hungry.” Conrad glanced back to the mercenaries. “Unless they’re an idiot in town. Then they might have to pay the bailiff to get out of the stocks.”

Anton caught Rasha approaching. She held the halberd tight in her large hands as she glanced at her rough clothes, with many small holes and tears, compared to Conrad’s metal and leather full armour. Conrad stepped back as she approached, a nervous look on her face.

“Is something wrong, Rasha?”

“I…Jeff told me to be on guard until they leave but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“From my experience that just involves standing around and looking imposing,” Anton said, receiving a cautious nod from Conrad. “At least that’s what I’ve seen. Besides, these guys aren’t going to do anything silly.”

“Not against something-someone as big as you.” Conrad quickly corrected himself.

“She may be strong but she’s a very nice woman.” Anton turned to pat her shoulder but couldn’t reach. Instead, he patted her arm. “Just about every Beast-kin I’ve met has been. Except for two Minotaurs who tried to attack me.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Rasha scratched her blue ears, the faintest hint of red crept upwards from the tips.

“I’m just teasing.” Anton patted her arm again. “Which seems pretty easy, despite your size."

“I…” Rasha didn’t want to bring up her past. So far she had been well behaved, but that could change given time.

“I don’t know what they’re doing to Cetina but they shouldn’t be too much longer.” Anton turned to the Main Hall, still no movement. “But once they’re done we’re going to be gone again. For quite a while this time.”

“You’re coming back with us?”

“I am. And so is Cetina. Verona and Kal are continuing to help the Dark Elves.”

“Dark Elves?” Conrad glanced around. “They’re probably one of the few things I haven’t seen here.” Conrad’s face twisted slightly. “By things, I mean people. Of course.”

“How long will it take?” Rasha asked, using the halberd to lean on. “And when you’re done are you coming back right away?”

“Probably.” Anton scratched his head and looked over the mercenaries. “But I honestly have no idea how long it’ll take. We might still be fighting in winter if things turn really bad.”

“Let’s hope not,” Conrad mumbled.

“Indeed. But I’ll try to be back as often as I can. Has…Has Cetina had a chance to speak with you after Belinda arrived?”

Rasha frowned lightly. “Not recently. Is something wrong? I don’t think I hurt her during our sparing sessions.”

“Someone actually fought against you?” Conrad couldn’t miss Rasha’s arms, almost as thick as their waists and essentially all muscle.

“They wanted me to have a practice bout against Rasha.” Anton laughed. “Well, some of the others did. I’m sure that Rasha would’ve gone easy on me.” Rasha smiled at them both.

Conrad nodded. “At least with you, we won’t have to worry about being attacked heading back through that forest. A lot of strange creatures lurking in that place.”

All we’ve seen are Green Goblins and some wolves. And some fish in the Lake. And Orcs, but that’s just a one-off.

“What’s the problem?” Rasha asked.

“We’ve had a discussion, really just a quick talk…Are you comfortable with just being a labourer?”

Rasha’s eyes looked at the ground, her face fell flat. “I…” She gripped the halberd’s shaft tight. “No. Not really. I mean, I like doing what I’m doing but I’d like to do something more.” Rasha pointed to the small mountain to the east of Mount Aspire. “Going there was really scary. But also incredibly exciting. More exciting than what I’ve been doing since.”

“You know that Cetina is my bodyguard, right?” Rasha nodded. “And, this may sound a little self-indulgent, but I don’t know if one is going to be enough.”

Rasha’s ears pulled back, her short thin tail swayed ever so gently.

“You’ve seen how easy it is for the rest of the world to come down on us.” Anton waved to the patiently waiting mercenaries. Conrad wasn’t offended. “One day someone from outside is going to want to do us harm. Again, not trying to inflate my own ego, but that’ll probably be me. You know, the person that could burn down a city without raising his hand that also wants Beast-kin to be more than slaves or simply dead. So, would you be interested in becoming my bodyguard?”

Rasha forced herself to remain calm. “Yes. But, are you really offering such an important position to me?”

“I am.” Anton looked her over. “I need people by my side that are strong, loyal and not afraid to throw a punch if necessary. So do you want to?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be any good but I’ll do my best.” She patted her arm, almost letting the halberd drop before catching it. “If anything goes wrong you just hide behind me. I’m pretty strong.”

Anton tapped her exposed blue arm. “That you are. I’ll let Jonathan know so you’ll get some actual armour. The good stuff too, since we can’t exactly buy it.”

Rasha tapped the butt of her halberd onto the stone. “I know that Eider’s going to be upset when she hears about this.”

“What?”

Rasha smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“…Anyway. I’ll have you work underneath Cetina, as she’s the Captain of my guard.”

“That’s not a problem at all.” Rasha nodded seriously.

“However there’s not that you can do right now. I’ll be in Qaiviel a lot of the time, and you obviously can’t go there, and The Shadow Isles sounds pretty dangerous while we’re dealing with the Goblins. I don’t want you going in there unprepared and getting yourself hurt.”

“I understand. I’ll have to just get better before you return.”

“We will be exploring the Kar Kingdom once we return. Get Balefire Mine up and running, maybe even a few more outposts where we can put some bound Lightning Crows and Fire Imps. Start to clean up this place. You can come with us then.”

“It sounds fun.” Rasha’s ears pricked back. “I know that it’s not meant to be but…I’ll do my best, Anton.”

“Thanks, Rasha.”

The door to the Main Hall opened and the three girls emerged. Verona and Kal looked happy while Cetina was lost. Her face wasn’t red, a good sign, but she was undoubtedly in a light daze. What had his wives done to her?

Verona waved ecstatically. “You look good with a weapon, Rasha.”

“Thanks. I’ve never owned anything before.”

Kal’s tail swished happily through the air. “It’s a great feeling, isn’t it?”

“And it’ll be even better once you’ve got a full suit of armour,” Anton added.

“Oh.” Verona smiled innocently. “So you asked her about that?”

“Yes. And she agreed.”

“Excellent.” Verona planted her hands on her hips. “It can’t always be me doing all the work.”

“All the what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kal smiled, sighing towards Verona. “You know what she’s like at times.”

“Are you alright Cetina?”

“Yes!” Cetina snapped out of her slight daze. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Rasha gave Anton an odd look, one he returned.

“Cetina. You and I need to get our horses read right now.”

“Got it.” Cetina took a step before stopping dead. “Rasha. Do you want to help me get the horses ready?”

The blue Minotaur looked at Anton for confirmation. He gave a nod and Rasha quickly joined Cetina as they hurried towards the stables. Verona and Kal moved to his side and watched them disappear in the crowds of Atros.

“Not bad.” Verona nudged his side. “Though it’s pretty obvious what you’re going after.”

“Oh stop it you.” Anton slapped her rear hard. Verona jumped and giggled.

“You’re going to regret hitting me later.”

“No, I’m not.”

Verona laughed. “Probably not. Now, we need to give you an actual send-off.”

Two hands pulled him down. Anton was expecting a kiss but received nothing of the sort. Instead, they wrapped their arms around his neck and pulled their faces to his, close enough that the breath from their noses brushed against his face. He returned the hold for some time. He didn’t care if everyone was watching, their warmth was something he hadn’t lived without for some time.

“Now we can keep going.” Kal relinquished her hold first.

“Nothing like a good boost.” Verona stretched out her arms. “But…”

“Tell us if things go bad,” Verona spoke into his mind.

“I will.” Anton kissed her. “Be safe you two.” Anton hugged them again. “If something goes wrong-”

“Which it won’t,” Verona stated adamantly. “But I understand what you’re saying.”

“Thank you.”

Cetina and Rasha returned with their horses in tow. Anton’s horse didn’t look too happy being pulled around by Rasha, she was simply stronger than the old beast, but the moment that it saw Anton it instantly relaxed.

“Hey there.” Anton gently rubbed the horse’s cheek after taking the reins from Rasha. “They’ve been taking you for walks and stuff, right?”

“They told me they have,” Cetina said. “But I think they’ll be glad to be out again.”

“I’ll be glad when we can actually spend a whole five days in Atros without something happening.” Anton mounted his horse, the girls moved to help but he managed without. “Oh. We need the portal stones before we go.”

“Already done.” Kal presented him with a large back of stones. “I did it just before when Verona was chatting with Cetina.”

Cetina grumbled and looked away. “More like threatened.”

“Nothing bad will happen,” Anton said. “I know how to behave.”

“No…Not like that.”

Cetina didn’t explain further so he let it drop.

“Good luck, Anton.” Verona held his hand tight. “We’ll see you soon, right? In the flesh and not just in our thoughts.”

“You will. I’ll see you all very soon.”

The girls waved and backed away. The way things were going they would be there all day saying their goodbyes, Anton didn’t want to separate and neither did they.

“Come on, Cetina. Have…Have you seen much of the Qaiviel Kingdom before?”

“No. I’ve never been that far south before. Why?”

Anton turned to the forest in the far west. “Because we are about to get very acquainted with it.”

Chapter 129 - Vol 4 - The Shadow Isles

Chapter 129:

Verona stood at the prow of The Snowberry, staring silently into the thick mist that completely encompassed the ship. Ever since dawn mist had descended and greatly hampered their vision. Kal stood next to her, perfectly still, staring into the mist through her mask.

“You’re thinking about something naughty again.” Kal continued to stare into the thick mist. “I can tell by the way your body moves.”

Verona laughed, leaning her back against the wooden rung. “Anton said that you can read people’s expressions very easily.”

“I didn’t look. You just told me you were.”

Verona raised her hand, letting her drop. “Right. And you accuse Anton of being sneaky.”

“He is. But not right now.” Kal sighed. “We’re being split too much. I hope we can actually do this.”

Verona sighed. “Me too. Me too. Though I don’t know if Anton can actually be much help here, apart from healing the Dark Elves. Until we figure out what’s happening with his…, I don’t think he should be killing too many Goblins or Ghlotsm.”

“Hopefully killing people doesn’t add to that.” Kal murmured.

Ceccitol and Tuccac approached, their weapons ready. Verona felt a little jealous upon looking at the Dark Elves, of any of the Dark Elves but Ceccitol especially. She didn’t have Verona’s curves but there was an air of maturity about her that she lacked; her face and the way she carried herself. And her height.

“How much longer?” Verona asked.

“Very soon.” Ceccitol stood next to Verona. She pointed into the water, rows of stones rose out of the water. “These are only near the coast of The Shadow Isles. Another reason why only the Dark Elves sail here.”

Verona looked to Wilford. Four Dark Elf warriors directed him through the mist.

“Without Anton is this possible?” Tuccac asked. “I do not mean to be rude-”

Verona smiled. “Kal and I will be more than enough. We probably won’t be able to destroy those bridges but don’t think you’ve seen everything that we can do.”

Tuccac silently looked deep into the mist. Verona sighed, Anton was the most obvious source of power but Verona was undoubtedly stronger in close range. A wall of blood shards would render anything down to a pulp. The Dark Elves would never have seen anything like it. Verona smiled at the thought of demonstrating their strength, the looks on their surprised faces.

“Land!” A Dark Elf yelled. “I see the Lighthouse.”

“A what?” Verona asked.

“A lighthouse.” Ceccitol pointed to a faint purple light seeping through the mist. “Think of it as a tall marker that guides us in.”

“Is it magical?” Verona strained to see through the mist.

“Normally no. But this is, though I don’t know how it works.” Ceccitol pointed into the sea and more lines of rocks. “We still have to do all the work.”

The Snowberry, with its frightened human sailors, slowly ploughed deeper and deeper into the mist. Slowly the mist darkened, Verona was about to speak when she realised it was land. Small orange lights permeated through the haze until the mist suddenly vanished.

“Wow.” Verona murmured.

A tear ran down Ceccitol’s cheek. “It’s so good to be back.”

The Snowberry approached a large jetty made from a very dark stone with small torches illuminating the otherwise near invisible stone. Verona saw the lighthouse, a giant tower with a bright purple light standing on a nearby cliff. The dock itself looked almost like Rusaddir but with an obvious Dark Elven flair. The buildings were made from the same black and red marbled wood as their bows. Dark slate covered the sharply pointed roofs which flared out at the bottom, on the corner were strange little ornaments that appeared to allow water to drain off the roof. A faint orange light emanated from the windows, flickering as people moved about inside.

A small band of twenty Dark Elves ran along the stone jetty. Ceccitol and Tuccac tensed. Thankfully they weren’t immediately hostile and took the ropes thrown by the nervous human sailors.

The lead Dark Elf boarded the ship. This Dark Elf looked older than those they travelled with, a few creases on his face but he lacked a beard.

“Ceccitol. I’m so glad to see you’re back.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go either, father.” Ceccitol hugged him tight, one heartily returned. Small tears ran down his face.

He looked barely to be thirty winters, perhaps a little older than Anton.

If Ceccitol has three kids, and she can only do that once a year, that makes her father something like sixty or eighty? I hope we look half as good when we’re that old.

“I’m sorry it took so long. The journey was longer than we thought. But we found what we were looking for.”

Her father held her shoulders tight. “You found what you saw in your vision. What Stratos showed you?”

“Yes, we did. Not an army, but hopefully enough to turn the tide.”

Her father glanced at Verona and Kal then to Wilford and the human sailors. “Is…Is this it? Just one ship?”

Ceccitol sighed. “Not the ship. They have to leave soon. But four people that-”

“Four?” He was utterly flabbergasted. “Four people? You and your warriors have been gone for over a month, and this is what you come back with?”

Ceccitol winced underneath his words. Tuccac remained resolute but Verona saw his hands trembling in anger. Verona wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. At least nothing that wouldn’t inflame the situation. Her father took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“Forgive me, Ceccitol.” Her father held her shoulders again, gently tapping them as she closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming back. Not that you’d run, but that something terrible had happened in the human lands. The situation has hardly improved since you’ve left.”

“You’ll need to tell me later.” Ceccitol moved to the side. “These are two of the people that we found. Verona, a Blood Berserker, and Kal,” Verona leant close and whispered. “A Half-breed Feline Beast-kin blessed with Tethra’s power.”

“Really?” His eyes raked over her, one that didn’t make Verona’s skin crawl. “I’ll have to see this for myself…My name is Gerin, Lord of the DuskReavers. You must forgive my previous outburst. Things have been very stressful for us all. For a long time.”

“Ceccitol explained the situation.” Verona began. “We came as quickly as we possibly could. It’s not exactly a quick journey.”

“I was surprised that someone still lived in the fallen Kar Kingdom. Ceccitol said there were four?”

“My-Our husband and his bodyguard are currently away.” Verona raised her hand to cut off Gerin’s surprise and bubbling anger. “But he will be coming once the situation allows.”

“And how is he supposed to reach The Shadow Isles? Only the Dark Elves know how to navigate the mists and hidden rocks.”

“We have a way,” Kal said. “I can assure you that it’s not an issue.”

“I’ll have to see that for myself.”

At least he doesn’t seem to care that she’s a Beast-kin, a Half Breed at that.

“Wilford?” Verona shouted to the helm. “Once we’re off you can head towards Bebbezzar and find the nearest large port. We’ll have Anton buy a warehouse and establish another portal. After that head to The Dwarven Isles.”

“How will I get out of here without running into the rocks?” Wilford shouted back.

“A Dark Elf will stay with you until you’re clear of the mist,” Ceccitol said. “Once you are clear they will head through the portal and return to The Shadow Isles. Kal, do you have another one ready?”

Kal nodded towards a small bag at her feet. “The other’s already set up back home. We’ll set this up as soon as we can find somewhere safe and secure.”

Wilford gave a nod and began shouting orders to the sailors. They were glad to be leaving.

Verona looked to the Dark Elf. “Ceccitol. Can you make sure that the Dwarves return to the ship? For protection. And so they can safely dock in Dwarven lands with a human ship.”

Ceccitol glanced at a nearby Dark Elf. They bowed and hurried towards Wiflord’s side. He was very unsettled by their serious and near unmoving attitude.

“Dwarves too?” Gerin looked at the human sailors and shook his head. “Perhaps that’s possible. Now, we need to return to the mansion. We can discuss what’s happened since you’ve left.”

“How bad is it?” Ceccitol followed her father as he walked off the ship.

“Bad.”

---[]---

Verona waited on the jetty until The Snowberry disappeared into the mist. A strange feeling washed over her, they were truly alone in this land. Just her and Kal in an unknown land with people they really didn’t know. Verona inhaled deeply and straightened her back. No one could know of her insecurity. Kal didn’t look much better, a hand idly reached for her mask. Verona made sure that no one was watching before she gave Kal’s hand a squeeze. It shook a little but calmed almost instantly.

“Our mansion is just beyond the city,” Ceccitol said to Verona and Kal. “Near the lighthouse. We’ll be able to collect our thoughts and plan our next move.”

“I wonder what sort of beds you have there,” Verona mumbled. Kal sighed and bumped her shoulder. “What? We need one, and if the Dark Elves’ is better than the one in Graterious why shouldn’t we buy one?”

“I…” Kal sighed. “Never mind.”

The Dark Elves briskly walked along the stone jetty. When Verona looked down she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. It didn’t look like a normal giant slab of stone or even stone brick like Rusaddir. The stone looked like it had melted; light bounced and refracted strangely through the stone though she couldn’t see the bottom. Verona slowed to get a better look but a Dark Elf nearly ran into her. Verona picked up her pace while holding back an awkward smile to Kal. A small swarm of Dark Elves emerged from their buildings and homes to gawk at the new arrivals. They seemed nervous, the children hidden by their parents, and were not willing to approach with their warrior escorts. These civilians didn’t wear the heavy black leather and padded armour of the warriors, they wore more traditional clothing. The men wore traditional pants and shirts but made from a very dark cotton-like material while women wore something akin to a dress designed to show off a good portion of their legs. Something bothered Verona. As they left the jetty it hit her; the men were either old or very young. Those that couldn’t fight. What Ceccitol and Tuccac feared had come true.

But there are still some ‘fighters’ here. Even if they’re only good for fodder.

Verona pushed such thoughts aside and followed the Dark Elves in complete silence. Kal’s keen eyes took in everything but she didn’t want to distract her just now. A smell of fish lingered in the air. Small racks perfectly aligned into rows as fish dried in the weak sun. The mist, though incredibly thin at ground level, blocked out some of the light and heat. Verona’s bare skin barely felt any of the sun’s rays despite winter still being some time away. Again the fish on display looked somewhat meagre and sad, just like the people. Stall owners moved to hawk their wares but backed away upon seeing Gerin. They bowed respectfully and backed away.

The city streets were arranged rather chaotically, unlike the rigid organisation of Seocuria and Danafra. There were more Dark Elves roaming these streets but very few weren’t young or old, and those looked wounded and walked with a dejected limp. Everyone bowed to Gerin. A few even whispered that Ceccitol had returned, some were derisive but most were eager. Eager to hear what she had found. Verona hoped they would be good enough.

Once free of the port city they entered a strange forest. Tall, dark trees rose into the sky and blocked out the weak sun. The leaves were large and very dark while the bark had the red marbled streaks endemic to all Dark Elven wood. Grasses and shrubs were equally dark leaved, it was quite difficult to see anything in this light level.

A small dirt path deviated from the main stone road towards the lighthouse and a mansion lying before it. A large wall, made from the same stone as the jetty, surrounded a mansion larger than Duchess Belinda’s. Unlike hers this was irregular, an amalgamation of small buildings randomly joined together with no regard for aesthetics. Verona liked it, though she was sure Anton would have words with their designers. So too would the Dwarves.

Metal gates opened and three small children ran towards them, making a beeline for Ceccitol. She burst into tears as they collided together. The children cried as she pulled them off the ground and into her chest.

They look as old as Shawn and Jocelyn! How young are they really though? My age? I don’t think Anton would like someone that young. You really were desperate.

“Where did you go?” A young female Dark Elf asked.

“You were gone for so long!” The other girl cried.

The young boy didn’t say a word, simply crying as he held his mother with all his might.

“I’m so sorry that I had to go.” Ceccitol placed them down. “But you know that mommy had to leave.”

“Are staying?” The boy asked.

“I am.” Ceccitol waved Tuccac forward. “For now, though. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay but I’ll make sure every moment counts…Tuccac. Come on.”

“I…”

Verona stifled a laugh as Tuccac struggled to bond with his children, at least she was sure they were his children. Tuccac forced himself forward and knelt down. His children didn’t show any of his hesitation and leapt into his chest. A moment passed before tears started to run down his face. He loved them, even if he had trouble expressing that feeling.

“I’m glad you three are safe.” Tuccac pulled them tight.

“We never doubted that you would come back, dad.” The first girl said. “There’s no way dad would fail.”

Tuccac chuckled and gave a final squeeze. “Verona, Kal. These are our children. Our two girls are Seti and Seva. And our son, Banik.”

The children gave Verona and Kal a wave, which they returned.

Verona smiled. “Hello. Have you three been keeping this place safe while your parents have been away?”

Banik nodded furiously, pointing to the stone wall. A dead creature, some sort of large black cat the size of an adult wolf, was draped over the side peppered with Dark Elf arrows.

“I saw that this morning,” Banik said proudly. “It was trying to get inside and eat the chickens. But I told the guards and they killed it before it gets to any of them.”

“That’s wonderful.” Tuccac ruffled his hair before standing up. “And you two?”

“Seti has been skipping on training.” The dark Elf girl with short hair, Seva, smiled at her sister, whose long hair was tied up in a ponytail that reached below her back. “Again.”

“No, I have not!”

Ceccitol chuckled. “Nothing’s changed.”

The girls held Ceccitol’s hand while Tuccac’s his son. He still looked a little nervous to touch them, to even hold their hands, something that caused a light-hearted snigger amongst the other Dark Elves. Tuccac didn’t show any concern. He was overjoyed to be with his children.

A large garden spilt out from the main door of the mansion to the walls, filled with flowers and plants that Verona had never seen before. These were clearly not what Anton knew from Earth nor anywhere on the continent, he had tried his best to describe them but it was a difficult task at the best of times. These plants held an array of bright large flowers, Verona reasoned they would be easy to see in the darkness for the birds and insects, but some moved as they passed. The flowers retracted into their main body while others produced large feelers, the action almost brought Verona to laugh. A small bug landed on a feeler. It struggled to fly but couldn’t break free from a sticky mucus that covered its legs. In a few moments of struggling the bug had completely covered itself in a sticky sap, not even its wing cases could open. The feeler pulled the insect back into the flower, trapping the insect within.

“A carnivorous plant,” Ceccitol explained. “They catch insects and someone’s even small birds to feed.”

“I’ve seen some in Seocuria.” Kal leant close, though she kept her hands knit tightly behind her back. “But only near the Deweth Clans. They did the same thing as this.”

“They aren’t that uncommon, but are prolific in The Shadow Isles.” Ceccitol continued walking towards the mansion. “Please, come. There’ll be time to explore once everything has been settled.”

Verona and Kal quickly re-joined the Dark Elf group as they approached the main door to the mansion. Two Dark Elves, wearing warrior’s armour, stood at attention waiting to open the door. No butler and a dozen maids to serve them this time.

“Master Gerin.” A warrior bowed as he opened the door.

“Has anything happened while I’ve been away? I’m expecting a representative from those stupid Mist Walkers soon.”

“Thankfully they have not arrived.” The warrior smiled. “The roads are…treacherous at times.”

Oh?

“Good. But I get the feeling that we’ll be leaving for the front soon.”

The warrior glumly nodded and completely opened the door. Dark Elf maids, dressed very similar to the women in the port, hurried to ensure everything was clean, the whole scene reminded her of Duchess Belinda’s mansion. Heads of large animals rested along the red marbled dark wood, no paintings but many ceremonial swords and bows. It was the home of a proud family of warriors, not an opulent merchant or lord. That gave Verona a little hope that the DuskReavers were the clan to back.

“I’ll send out the messengers.” Gerin began. “The rest of the clan will arrive sometime around mid-day. We can discuss things further then.”

“Thank you, father.”

Ceccitol bowed, so too did her children and Tuccac. Verona didn’t know if she was supposed to so she and Kal bowed their heads. If Gerin took any offence he didn’t show it and left the room flanked by two older Dark Elf warriors. When the door clicked closed Ceccitol breathed a sigh of relief.

“That could have gone worse.”

“Your father didn’t believe in your vision?” Kal asked.

Ceccitol chuckled. “No. Absolutely not. The only reason he let me go was that I threatened to leave the DuskReavers if I didn’t go. I’m his only child, you see.”

“I’m sure that’d mess with the inheritance.” Verona sighed.

“Not really. But there’s not much we can do until everyone’s gathered. And I would like to spend some time with my children.” Ceccitol caught the attention of a maid. “Could you please show them to a room? A good one. And please provide them with food and the opportunity for a bath.”

“Of course, my lady.” The maid, a pretty young Dark Elf, motioned towards a large door on the far side. “If you will please follow me.”

Verona and Kal gave a final nod to Ceccitol and Tuccac, Verona winked at their children, eliciting a giggle and wave, before following the maid.

“Just a bit of practice.” Verona smiled at Kal.

Kal nodded seriously. “I just hope that I’ll be good enough to raise them right.”

“We will Kal.” Verona smiled. “I know we all will.”

The maid led them through a twisting set of corridors before showing them to a large bedroom. Verona instantly knew that she wanted this place back in Atros: a large soft bed, heaps of space for clothes and a large sliding door leading to an area outside.

“Is that…” Kal pointed to a gazebo structure just outside their room.

“A hot spring.” The maid smiled ever so faintly. “It is known for its restorative properties. The spring is obscured from the rest of the mansion to ensure complete privacy. Not even the guards patrolling the walls are able to see in.”

Verona saw the high wall of shrubbery. There shouldn’t be a way to look through without some sort of magical trickery.

The maid waved to a large plate of fruit on a table at the foot of the bed. “We have a selection of fruits and dried meats for you as well. If you require anything else do not hesitate to call on us.”

“Thank you very much.” Verona bowed lightly.

The maid returned the polite bow and left the room.

“Kal? Your hand please.” Verona drew her blade, twirling it in her fingers.

“Are you worried something’s going to happen?”

“Best be prepared. Just in case.”

Verona cut a tiny nick into Kal’s hand. Her eyes scrunched lightly at the pain, it was odd that Anton could easily just dismiss such pain. Why was that? When Verona had a pot’s worth of blood she deactivated her power. Kal chanted a healing prayer, the tiny cut quickly faded away to nothing.

“So much more useful,” Verona grumbled.

“Not so much for combat.” Kal ruffled her hair whilst freeing her tail. Though it was somewhat protected from the spray of the sea, the salt had caused it to turn stiff and coarse. It was a shame to leave it in such a poor state.

“Should we actually have a dip?” Kal asked, her eyes eagerly looking towards the hot spring.

“I am.” Verona chuckled. “We might as well since I think we’ll be on the move pretty soon.”

“Right…”

Kal began to strip, placing her clothes in an extremely neat pile on the bed while Verona tossed hers in a mess onto the bed. Kal sighed and picked up Verona’s clothes and neatly stacked them.

“You really should do better.” Kal hovered a digitigrade foot, at least that’s what Anton called it, over the slightly steaming water. “This seems pretty hot.”

Verona dipped her finger into the water. “It’s not that bad. Come on, before we get called.”

A faint gasp escaped Verona’s lips as the hot water rolled over her body. At first, it was quite a surprise but that soon gave way to a gentle relaxing sensation flowing through her body. The hot spring’s water only reached their necks when they sat on the hot rocks, not that Verona minded.

“This…” Verona turned to Kal, a giddy smile on her face. “We need this in Atros.”

Kal dove her head underneath the water before throwing it back up, sending hot water droplets everywhere. Her tail slinked through the water like an eel. Verona pointed to it as something white dissolved out of her fur. “Looks like the salt doesn’t like the hot spring.”

“I don’t like the salt either.” Verona splashed water over her head before giving her arms a rough scrub. “Do you think we should tell Anton that we’re in this wonderful spring?”

“Of course.” Kal scratched her ear. “He’ll want to know we made it safely. But why did salt make you think of him.”

“All that stuff he was speaking with Cetina about food. You know, that really good food…that we should have gotten in Seocuria. Or at least see if we could. Better than just salted meat.”

“I don’t want to give the Seocurian’s any more of our money than we have to,” Kal said adamantly. “Besides, it’d be Beast-kin who have to load the ship. And I don’t want to contribute to their suffering.”

“Yeah…But it still would have been nice. Guess we’ll just have to get it next time we’re in Bebbezzar.” Verona slinked lower into the hot water.

“I’m going to talk to Anton now,” Kal said.

“Right. Right.”

Verona wrapped her hand around her wedding ring.

“Anton?” Verona spoke into the ring. “Are you there? Now I know why you hate saying it like that.”

“At least I heard it,” Kal mumbled.

“Hey, Verona.” Anton’s voice echoed through her head. “Are you in The Shadow Isles? Is Kal with you? Are you both okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kal smiled and slinked deeper into the water. “Hearing your voice in my head is kind of strange. I wish I could see you in the flesh instead. How are things going in Qaiviel?”

“We haven’t reached Maxill yet. But we’re making good progress. There have been a few small skirmishes with the Green Goblins but nothing too serious. Just a dozen or so at a time so Belinda’s bodyguard could probably take care of them, no sweat. Cetina’s doing well too.”

“Hello.” Cetina’s voice, slightly shaky and awkward, floated through the ring. “How are you two?”

“We’re doing fine.” Verona splashed her hand into the water to gently grab Kal’s fan tail. “Right now we’re in a hot spring waiting for the Dark Elves to hurry things up.”

“A hot spring?” Anton asked. “They have something like that in The Shadow Isles?”

“Yeah. And it’s incredible. I can’t wait until we get one of these back in Atros.”

“You could make this,” Verona said to Kal.

“I probably could. But I’m sure Anton would say that it’s a bad use of our magic.” Kal chuckled. “At least for now. Though my shoulders feel a lot better.”

Verona looked at her breasts floating in the water. Though it felt good to have the weight lifted off her shoulders she would have preferred for Anton to do the lifting.

“Lucky for you two then.” Anton laughed. “Right now it’s raining. Not much but enough that everything’s getting soaked.”

“The horses aren’t enjoying it much either,” Cetina added dryly.

“Do you want me to come there?” Verona asked. “I could do the blood umbrella thing again. Keep the water off you?”

“Thanks but we’ll be fine. It’s already starting to lighten, give it a bit and we should be in the clear. So how bad are things in The Shadow Isles?”

“From what we’ve seen it’s not good.” Kal scratched her arms. “Most of the people that could serve as warriors have already gone. The port is filled with the young and old.”

“Terrible. Please do your best to keep things from falling apart. We’ll try to be there as soon as we can but I can’t promise anything.”

Verona looked to Kal, both girls nodded. “Absolutely. But we’re not going to do anything stupid. As you said, you’d prefer to have us both back alive at the end of this.”

“That I would. If you need anything don’t hesitate to call…contact us. If there’s a lull in the battle we could move either way to help out.”

“Okay. Be safe Anton.” Verona smiled, knowing that four people were involved in the conversation. “We love you.”

A faint groan came through the ring. Anton laughed as Cetina mumbled something.

“Oh, Cetina,” Verona interjected. “You remember what we talked about, right? Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.”

Verona couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not, so she chose to believe the former.

“What did you two do to her anyway?” Anton asked.

“Nothing.” Kal smiled at Verona. “Just Verona doing what she does best.”

“I wonder what that could be.” Anton laughed again. “I guess I’m going to find out soon enough, won’t I?”

“Who knows?” Verona teased. “But please, both of you, stay safe.”

“We will. I love you both, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Verona removed her hand and breathed a sigh of relief. She dived her head underneath the water. Warmth travelled through her skull and into her mind. When she couldn’t wait any longer she burst through the water, scattering water droplets everywhere.

“I’m glad that they’re safe.” Verona scratched her chest. “But we’re probably going to be alone for this, aren’t we?”

Kal nodded. “Probably. Anton needs to focus on keeping Atros safe. And to do that he needs to focus, I don’t think we should be bothering him unless it is absolutely necessary. I know he’ll be doing the same.”

Verona sighed. “I know.” She pulled both her hands into fists. “So we just need to do the best we can. And not mess this up.”

Kal’s brows furrowed. “We will. We will do it right. But I wonder how bad things really are?” Kal looked at the ceiling. “How much don’t we know?”

---[]---

Verona and Kal were dressed and thoroughly refreshed before the maid returned. While they weren’t told to take their weapons Verona thought it would be best. Verona didn’t think she would need the blood but Anton always told her to be prepared no matter what. The Cold Stone rattled ever so slightly at the bottom of the pot.

The mansion was far busier than before. Dark Elf warriors, all equipped with a fearsome array of weapons, stood in small groups, whispering and chatting amongst themselves in the mansion. The open door revealed even more waiting outside. An elf took a second look as Verona and Kal emerged.

My skin is extremely white. Well, at least half of it is. I’m probably the lightest person they’ve seen in their lives if they’ve never left these Islands.

Verona felt her skin crawl as the men’s gaze fell on her chest and rear. Thankfully their cloaks hid their true curves but it still felt a little odd. A few harsh whispers and the gazes stopped; their commanders, like Ceccitol, had great control over their subordinates.

The maid bowed to the guards waiting on the door Gerin had entered. She motioned for them to enter but clearly wasn’t allowed in herself. Verona took a deep breath, Kal forced herself to remain calm and composed. Inside lay a large open room with a map on the far wall with dozens of Dark Elves, many not wearing armour but rather more casual, but still expensive, clothes. Verona once again hated her lack of height. The Dark Elves were all quite tall, though far more slender than her. She spied Ceccitol speaking with Gerin, both pointed to the north of the map with a worried expression.

“Come on,” Verona whispered to Kal.

They slowly pushed through the Dark Elves but quickly found themselves to be the centre of attention. Verona returned their questioning gazes with smiles until a hand reached out for her shoulder. She jumped to the side and stared at the Dark Elf as he stood still with his hand outstretched. He didn’t know what to do, doubly so as the crowd focused their attention on him. Verona bowed her head and continued to push through.

“There you are.” Ceccitol’s face relaxed. “The maid certainly took her time to get you.”

“We were just taking a bit of a refresher.” Verona chuckled, nudging Kal’s side. “It was perfect. We feel a lot better now.”

“What is the purpose of this gathering?” Kal asked. She stepped closer to Gerin and Ceccitol. “Is this all the soldiers you have left on your island?”

Gerin sighed. “Essentially, yes. Several are still guarding the cities and towns but they need to remain here. Everyone else is on the front. But we can discuss that in a minute.”

Something in Verona’s mind clicked.

“What did you just say?” Verona asked. “That word you just used. What was it?”

“Minute?” Gerin raised his brow. “What about it?”

“Right. But what does it mean?” Verona forced her hand to remain still.

“It’s a unit of time that Dark Elves use.” Gerin rubbed his chin. “Now that I think about it I don’t know why we call it that.”

“Is there something called…” Verona scrunched her eyes tight. “An hour?”

“Yes. A larger unit of time. We have Sand Timers that we use to determine how long it takes for an hour to pass.” Gerin shared a glance with Ceccitol. “Why do you ask? It is a strange thing to be talking about now. Ceccitol?”

Ceccitol shrugged. “I never brought it up because the humans on the continent don’t use it. I didn’t think you did either so…Is there a problem?”

Verona’s mind spun at the implications of just a few words.

Anton’s always making those slips, even if he doesn’t want to. I mean that’s one of the reasons that he’s with Kal after all. But it’s here! Does that mean that someone else from his world has been here before him? One that gave them their measurement of time?

Verona looked at the worried faces of the Dark Elves.

We can’t worry about that right now, even though I know that Anton would want to know more. At least he would know what sort of questions to ask.

“Another time.” Verona smiled. “If we aren’t leaving right away we’d like to talk more about it. I know that’s will be of great interest for Anton.”

“Very well.” Gerin folded his arms. “We’d better get started then.”

Gerin loudly clapped his hands. “Everyone! Please take your seats! We will begin the meeting.”

“Follow me.” Ceccitol gently tapped their shoulders and pushed them towards the door.

For a moment Verona thought they were about to be ejected. The Dark Elves assembled themselves in two lines on either side of the room with Gerin standing in front of the giant map. Verona saw some sort of arrangement but couldn’t understand it beyond those wearing the civilian clothes, probably the leaders, were closest to the centre while those in armour stood behind them in. Verona was more than a little miffed they were standing behind Ceccitol and Tuccac but let it slide. Verona glanced at Kal, both were worried that they had no idea of the protocol when everyone sat simultaneously. While Verona was glad to be off her feet she noticed a large number of the people on the opposite side judging her very harshly. Unlike her and Kal, who sat with their legs crossed, impossible if they wore a skirt, the others sat in very odd positions. The women with both their legs to the right while the men sat almost the same as Verona but their ankles barely crossed one another. During their travels, the Dark Elves hadn’t sat like this. Formal meetings perhaps? Regardless Verona nor Kal had been told about this. Ceccitol and Tuccac glanced back but said nothing.

“Thank you all for joining us on such short notice,” Gerin spoke gently but with an authority that silenced any hint of noise. “Let us get to the point. The Goblin horde continues to push south. And our strength is nearly spent. However, my daughter has returned.”

Many Dark Elves murmured under their breaths.

“I know that many of you doubted her but it appears her journey has been successful.”

Ceccitol rose up, she clenched her fingers tight underneath the silent scrutiny thrown at her. “My vision was not delusion. Though I do not return with an army I bring some very powerful mages to help us.” Ceccitol stood forward and motioned towards them. “Verona is a Blood Berserker of incredible power and Kal, a Half-Breed Beast-kin can use Tethra’s power, an ability that we have thought lost to the world.”

“Is this it?” A Dark Elf asked. Verona groaned internally, it was the same one that reached for her hand.

“No. There is also an extremely powerful mage that can harness Stratos’s, Esperit’s and Tethra’s powers. And a swordsman of some skill.”

You just haven’t seen Cetina fight yet. Then you’ll know that she could probably take you all out when she falls into that trance.

A murmur that quickly grew into a shouting match was silenced as Gerin raised his hand. “Regardless of what you might think this is the best help that we have. Quite possibly the only help that we have now. No one else in this room has found any additional help. So…Unless you have something better this is all we have.”

Only the shuffling of feet responded.

“I thought not. Now, we will be leaving for the front this afternoon. What forces do you have?”

Verona kept her face flat as the Dark Elf representatives detailed their forces. Her heart twisted to hear such pathetic numbers. No one had more than a hundred warriors to send. Verona’s mind wandered to the people at the dock.

Gerin nodded solemnly as he listened to the numbers.

“Everything we have left.” Gerin sighed. “But, hopefully, we can win now. Especially if these mages are as powerful as you say.”

“They are,” Ceccitol said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Gerin scrunched his hands. “If we don’t move soon the Mist Walkers will return and simply take everyone. And we don’t have the strength to resist them.”

The room fell silent.

“At least we may have a chance now.” Gerin rose up first, the other Dark Elves followed. “We leave in an hour. Make sure that you’re ready.”

The Dark Elves murmured as they slowly began to file out. Verona and Kal took a step back, some Dark Elves threw them odd looks but nothing too serious. When most had left Verona breathed a little easier. Ceccitol hurriedly moved to Gerin’s side, gently holding his hand.

“My mind is clouded these days.” Gerin sighed. “Knowing that our clan is on the verge of destruction while those idiotic Mist Walkers and their lackeys hide behind our warriors so they can enjoy a life of luxury.”

“It won’t last,” Verona said. “If you do fall then they’re going to have to fight. But I’m sure they’ll find a way to blame you for that.”

“Hmm…True.” Gerin gently rubbed his hands. “Can you ride a Jaguar Mount? Dark Elves can run much faster than humans and we cannot delay our departure.”

“We know how to ride horses.” Verona glanced at Kal. “But I have no idea about a Jaguar, whatever that is.”

“We’ll make sure that you get some of the more gentle beasts,” Gerin said. “You were talking about minutes and hours before.”

“Yes…I-We’d really like to know more,” Verona said, hoping the intensity in her voice didn’t put him off.

“We don’t have much information about that.” Gerin frowned. “Most of the artefacts are kept in the Mist Walkers main fortress, which is our destination. I’m sure they will be able to explain this better. To be honest I don’t know why we call it that.”

“You-You mentioned something about a Sand Timer,” Verona said. “Could we have a look please?”

Gerin glanced at Ceccitol. “I suppose so. But there’s little to see. Ceccitol, could you please show them? Oh, and give them some better cloaks. Theirs will just attract the wild Jaguars and other beasts. They smell wrong too.”

Kal raised a brow and sniffed at the hem.

“I will, father.”

Gerin nodded and left the room. Tuccac, who remained in his original position gently walked across the silent room.

Ceccitol gently held Verona’s shoulder. “Now you see bad things really are. I just wish that we had Anton with us as well.”

“So do I.” Verona smiled. “He could have just shown off a few dozen fireballs and everyone would have been happy. My power tends to scare people a bit more. And Kal’s is a little harder to really demonstrate.”

“At least without someone wounded,” Kal added.

“I’ll get the cloaks,” Tuccac said.

“Thanks.” Ceccitol pecked him on the cheek. “We won’t be long.”

---[]---

“Is this it?” Verona tapped the strange item. “I thought it would have been a little grander than this. It’s just a glass tube with some sand in it.”

“But it flows at a regular rate.” Kal leant close, her horizontal cat-slit eyes studied the thin glass neck intently. “See?”

Verona’s eyes were almost hypnotised by the slow but constant stream of yellow sand, slowly building at the base.

“Yeah.” She touched the top but Ceccitol stepped forward.

“Please be very careful with it.” Ceccitol delicately pushed Verona’s hand away. “It has been in our family for generations. It’s very valuable, there are only a few of the original ones left.”

Verona kept her hands behind her back as she studied the markings on the top of the Sand Timer. It was clearly a language but one that Verona hadn’t seen in a very long time. During the first few days after Anton’s arrival, he didn’t know how to write their language, like Verona still couldn’t very well, he could still speak properly. Which was very odd. Anton’s designs all had notes written in his language. No one could read them so if someone stole them it would be essentially useless. And those looked almost identical to the letters hammered into the metal band protecting the top of the Sand Timer.

I don’t think Kal’s seen his language before. Maybe a few scraps…

“Do you understand what it says?” Kal asked.

“No. I don’t.” Verona flashed Kal a look, Anton would know.

Ceccitol tapped the top of the Sand Timer. “This is one of the few artefacts left from the United Empire. When it ruled almost all the world, including these islands and beyond. At least that’s what my father said.”

“Does he know anything about its history?” Verona asked. “I know that Anton would really like to hear about it.”

“Possibly. But most of the history has been lost to us. I know that the rule of the United Empire was not good for our people. The Mist Walkers might know more but that might be a little difficult.”

“I just know that Anton’s going to be really excited to hear this.” Verona sighed. “Just not right now. If we tell him he’ll be distracted. And he wouldn’t do that for us.”

Ceccitol motioned for them to leave her father’s study room. “The journey will take us some time so it might be something to discuss. Gerin might know more.”

“Thanks, Ceccitol.” Verona happily clapped her hands, smiling at Kal. “Now, what are these Jaguar Mounts really going to look like?”

Chapter 130 - Vol 4 - Mist Walkers

Chapter 130:

“Fucks sake!” Verona cried out. “Ride more gently!”

Even with her hard hold on the reins of the Jaguar Mount, every bounce felt like it would be her last, The Jaguar Mount, though apparently one of the most gentle and docile, felt like a raging Ix after being stabbed in the butt with a burning iron. It didn’t move like a horse; its body lurched and rocked with every long stride. Verona body rocked back and forth but she was slowly getting used to it. Slowly. Kal was doing no better than she was. Beast-kin enhanced senses were playing havoc with her mind, even when she copied the other Dark elves and rose above the Jaguar so only their legs jostled. Doing that was extremely tiring. Verona resigned herself to endure it.

“We’re almost there.” Ceccitol brought her mount next to Verona. “You can see the fortress in the distance.”

She pointed to a looming black spire slowly rising through the ever-present mist of The Shadow Isles. Upon leaving the DuskReavers Island Verona thought it might dissipate but the mist had only grown and now covered everything in a faint white haze. Things moved through the haze, small and large creatures, thankfully nothing that resembled a Goblin but it played on her mind.

“I’ll be glad to give my legs a rest.” Verona almost let go of one hand of the reins to rub her calf, instantly regretting her decision but managed to hold on. “Shitting thing…The villages on the mainland are a lot, well, livelier than those on your island.”

The rapid column of Dark Elves, most Dark Elves doubled or tripled on a mount while Verona and Kal were afforded one each, passed by another Dark Elf village. These were different from the human villages of Qaiviel or Graterious. In no way were these a ramshackle assortment of crude buildings to serve only as shelter. The buildings, while few in number, were large and ornate in the same fashion as those in the port. Numerous small fruit trees, with flowers similar to the carnivorous plants in the mansion, bristled with Dark Elf activity. Small dark pig-like creatures darted through the shrubbery as children chased them back into pens. Verona counted a hundred Dark Elves for a modest-sized village. Even the small border town of Soulthor had several hundred, probably more living outside in small shacks. Less now, after the Mole Rats attacked.

I wonder what happened to them? And what happened to that girl that was offered to Anton? She was a little young…just like Ceccitol’s children.

“Because their warriors haven’t been sent to war,” Kal said. Her tail fluttering behind her was a true sight to behold, several of the Dark Elves watched it with a keen eye as well.

“Exactly.” Gerin squeezed between Verona and Ceccitol. “While our warriors fight and die they can live happily like this.”

“And complain that you’re losing?” Verona threw up a silver brow.

“Exactly.” Gerin chuckled. “They’ve grown soft and weak. Soon they’ll realise just how weak they’ve become, once we’ve fallen.”

Verona laughed. “Not if we, and our husband, have anything to say about it. By the way, we were talking about that Sand Timer. What do you know about the United Empire?”

Gerin shrugged. “Not that much. I’m sure the DuskReaver elders would know more, but we don’t exactly have time to meet them, especially since they live some many miles away from the port, and away from where we had to travel.”

“But what do you know?” Verona asked.

“What do I know? The United Empire began in the place you call the Deweth Clans. It spread until it covered the entire continent, from the Wood Elves to the south right to the Mycean City-States in the west, though they weren't known as that back then. None of your Kingdoms and Empires were. Everything was under their control. They continued to grow, even taking our lands and most of the world. Every people bowed to their rule. Almost all. Once they reached the main Wood Elven lands, far to the west, they stopped expanding, and slowly it began to collapse in on itself. In but a fraction of the time it took to create everything collapsed and the United Empire crumbled until only your continent remained. That lasted a bit longer but even that fell into the squabbling mess that it is now. That’s all I really know."

“Guess the Clansmen do have some reason to think they should rule everything,” Kal said.

“And were the Beast-kin here on The Shadow Isles?” Verona asked.

“No. They only lived on your continent originally. Some moved to the south, across the seas, and I think they were spared from your purges and enslavement. I’m not sure though. Not many people go there. Even the Frindal Emirate isn’t willing to go to those lands. Too dangerous.”

“Maybe some Lamia’s still exist.” Verona mused. “I wonder what Eider would think of them?”

“But the United Empire left us several artefacts, like the Sand Timers and our language. Though they were a brutish bunch of arseholes that part of their rule will last forever.”

Anton said his language is called English, but we write something that he said looks like it came from China, Japan or Korea…I’m guessing those are countries from his world. That don’t speak English…Very strange.

“Gerin. When did the Beast-kin emerge?”

“What do you mean?” Gerin spared a glance to Kal, who looked at Verona oddly as well.

“Anton, our husband, wants to know more about them. And…Can Dark Elves have children with humans?”

Ceccitol twitched slightly.

“No.” Gerin turned to his daughter. “Humans and Elves can’t interbreed.”

“Huh…But Beast-kin can.” Verona nodded at Kal. “Kal’s all the evidence you’ll need for that. And I know some Beast-kin that are mixes of other breeds and one that’s a new species altogether.”

“A Dwarf also told us humans and Beast-kin fought together,” Kal yelled over the panting of the Jaguar Mounts. “So they must have lived together before the United Empire collapsed. Surely.”

Gerin frowned in deep thought. “All I know is that they weren’t involved with the conquest of The Shadow Isles but they turned up soon after when the United Empire started expanding to where the Holy Kingsland is now. I…Huh. Where did they come from? Some Beast-kin are very strong."

“That they are.” Ceccitol chuckled. She must have thought of Rasha and Kristof.

“So why not use them to attack us or earlier?” Gerin frowned at the mist covered sun. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“That’s alright.” Verona waved him down. “What you’ve told us is all new. But we’ll still want to talk to those elders when we get the chance.”

So Dark Elves can’t have babies with humans, and probably Beast-kin too. Ceccitol probably told Anton that so it would entice him…So why humans and Beast-kin able to have cross-breeds are like Kal? How are Beast-kin able to interbreed like Rasha and probably Ulyaa when they’re so different? Why weren’t they used in the expansion of the United Kingdom until after the Dark Elves? If I had them I’d use them as soldiers. That’s what Anton wants to do. We’re missing something. But what could it be?

---[]---

Verona felt more than a little humbled as the Mist Walkers fortress loomed through into view. The mist continued to obscure the top as they reached the wall, both were made from the same black stone as the wharf. The tower itself was built from many layered disks, some wider than the previous but slowly converging to a point beyond her sight. A faint purple hue emanated from the peak, but for what reason they would have such a bright light Verona didn’t know. A lighthouse but for land? It would be the easiest thing to see for miles around, even more so at night. Hundreds of scratches and nicks adorned the exterior of the wall, some were very deep. Verona’s eyes were drawn to a line of six deep gouges near the ground. Dark Elf warriors, their bows drawn and arrows nocked, patrolled the walls keeping a vigilant eye. A short whistle travelled along the wall, repeated by the vigilant Dark Elves and catching Verona’s attention.

“Did the United Empire build this too?” Verona asked.

“I think so.” Gerin’s eyes strained to see the top. “Whenever it’s spoken of it’s always after the United Empire took these lands. It must have been a wonder to see such a thing constructed.”

Kal craned her head up. “It is simply too large to be a normal fortress. Does it have something to do with the mist covering The Shadow Isles?”

Gerin shrugged as they approached a large stone gate. “It’s always been covered in mist. I don’t understand it…except it’s just to make some sort of strange statement.”

“Who goes there?” A Dark Elf patrolling guard yelled down. A small white tassel hung from his neck, the same hung from the other guards.

“Gerin of the DuskReaver clan, with reinforcements for the front.”

“Open the gate.” The Dark Elf yelled. He sighed as he turned back to Gerin. “The Mist Walker Elders want to see you. Doesn’t sound good.”

Gerin clicked his tongue. “Thanks for the warning. We’ll be right up.”

The guard nodded as the stone gate rumbled open just enough to allow a single Jaguar mount through. The Dark elves filed through to a massive war-camp inside. Verona’s immediate thoughts of a fully-fledged army were crushed. The Dark Elves held empty and haggard faces, some staring into the void without any recognition of life held in their eyes. Almost all were wounded, some appeared more than life-threatening, while those only lightly wounded were still preparing to take up arms. The smell of blood and iron pierced her nose and sent her heart racing. Blood. So much blood. Verona scrunched her hands so tight her knuckles screamed in pain.

“Oh my.” Kal murmured.

“It’s not that bad,” Gerin said. “This is where all the wounded gather. It’s not like this is all we have…At least I hope it’s not.”

A Dark Elf, with a dark purple tassel, ran towards them waving his arm. He directed Gerin and the DuskReavers to their section of the sprawling camp. The layout of the camp was a complete mess. Clearly, it hadn’t been designed with these numbers in mind nor had any strenuous effort been taken to resolve the issue.

The DuskReavers tents were actually of better quality than the others. However, their warriors looked worse. Nearly all were heavily wrapped with bloody bandages. Though they lacked the distant vacant looks their shoulders drooped and their heads hung low.

“My Lord Gerin.” A Dark Elf spoke loudly. Immediately the attitude changed, not better but more disciplined. “The latest batch of wounded have arrived. It’s not looking good.”

“Take the mounts and give them some food.” Gerin jumped from his Jaguar. It glanced at him and rotated its shoulders, it didn’t like being ridden, not that Verona blamed them.

Gerin turned to his warriors. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can. And help the wounded if you are able.” The warriors saluted and quickly dispersed.

Verona wasn’t particularly sad to see hers and Kal’s disappear. When Luna was larger, or they found a new Peryton, that would be her mount. Unless Anton found something bigger. Like a dragon or a drake. An actual drake, not just jumping on Irso.

Gerin signalled to join him in a small tent. The smell of blood became near overwhelming. Though empty it had clearly just been used for surgery. Kal held her shoulder as she flapped the cloth curtain in an attempt to dispel the odour.

“I’m fine, Kal.” Verona gently patted her hand. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.”

“I thought you told Anton it wasn’t a problem unless you were using your power. That’s what you told me, remember?”

Verona nodded. “That’s true. But there’s just so much it’s there in my mind. I’m not going crazy, I know what that feels like. If it does happen you just need to knock me out before I do something stupid.”

“Right…”

Thank you, Anton, for not telling her what I did in my trance. At least Cetina’s still somewhat in control.

“How many?” Gerin asked.

A Dark Elf surgeon, his clothes stained in blood, scratched his head. “Perhaps ten a day? Since Ceccitol left things have calmed down. We’re no longer taking such staggering losses. But that’s, that’s still too many. And those are just the deaths. Many more are brought in injured, some hopelessly so.” He waved to a pile of bloody bandages next to a table still slick with blood. “I’m sure the warriors here could defend the walls but that’s about it.”

“Can’t you just let those Jaguars loose into the Goblin lines?” Verona asked.

“Their claws and teeth are very intimidating.” Kal frowned lightly. “But this probably isn’t a new thought, is it?”

“Why are-”

“Just answer.” Gerin interrupted.

“They are…My ladies.” The Dark Elf bowed his head, not knowing exactly who they were. “Probably one reason why the Goblins have been kept back as it is. But the Jaguar Mounts take a long time to train and there are simply too many Goblins. They run around the hordes but it doesn’t seem to make a difference.”

“Hopefully they will.” Gerin sighed. “One of the guards said they wanted to speak with me?”

“They?” Verona asked.

“The elders of the Mist Walkers,” Ceccitol replied.

Gerin spat onto the bloodstained floor. “It’s something we’re going to have to deal with. Especially since we have humans this far into our lands since the collapse of the United Empire.”

“More stares then.” Verona threw up her arms in defeat. Kal chuckled.

“Now you know what it was like to go through Bebbezzar and Qaiviel.” Ceccitol smiled.

“I can help the wounded.” Kal clenched her fist tight. “I won’t be able to heal everyone but I can save those on the verge of death. With enough time and mana…I could even restore limbs.”

“That would be incredible.” Gerin smiled. “But even I know that Tethra’s power, though I haven’t seen it for myself, cannot heal everyone in this camp before we must see the Elders. Though it would give the warriors some hope.”

“There are some prayers that I would like to try,” Kal said. “The healing prayers that work over a long period of time. They use significantly less mana but any additional wounds won’t be healed until a new prayer is cast.”

“How long will it take?” Gerin asked very calmly. Verona saw his ears twitch, the same way Ceccitol’s did when she heard they were coming to The Shadow Isles.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps for small wounds a day. For something like recovering a hand perhaps four or five. I haven’t tried it though. Maybe even some healing artefacts I could put into a tent and keep them alive.”

“As long as you don’t use too much Earth Mana,” Verona said quietly.

“If you could do that, that alone would be a tremendous help. Just one person at the beginning of this war would have changed things immensely.”

“Do you not worship Tethra here like Stratos?” Verona asked.

“Some do, I think. But one day her power just faded away. I don’t understand why. No one does. And no one could get an answer from her or any of the Old Gods. So they turned to gods that would still answer, like Stratos.”

Jira isn’t going to tell me anything, that bitch. And Anton’s gods have been very quiet about it too. We need to find a god that’s actually neutral in all this, but that’s going to be hard to figure out. Those books are probably out of date. I really, really don’t want to have to talk with Jira again.

“Do you want me to start now?” Kal gripped her hands tight.

“No. The Elders will be furious if we don’t arrive immediately. And they’ll want to see you two. Is it possible to get the other two here for this meeting?”

“Let me check.”

Verona wrapped her hand over the ring.

“Anton? Are you available?”

“Kind of. We’re just setting up camp for the night. What’s happening?”

“It’s night there?” Verona asked aloud. “I mean the forests get dark pretty quickly.”

“Perhaps Duchess Belinda doesn’t want to travel during the night.” Kal offered. “Many creatures hunt in the dark. Like wolves. Perhaps she’s worried about them?”

“We’re about to meet the leaders of the Dark Elves. It doesn’t look good here. A lot of wounded people, and it sounds like Ceccitol was telling the truth about how badly they’re working together. You might have better luck talking to them than we will. I don’t know if they’re not going to like us, because we’re humans or women, I don’t know, but you might have an easier time to get them working together. Apparently we have to meet them right now, we don't even have time to let Kal heal a few people before we go.”

“The only thing I could do is intimidate them.” Anton sighed, it was strange to hear that in her head. “My magic is a bit flashier without potentially scaring them like yours. But I’ll…Hang on. There’s something going on at the edge of the camp.”

“What’s happening?” Kal asked.

“Fuck’s sake.”

“Bandits!” Cetina shouted. “A lot of them too. Maybe a hundred, maybe two. They’re coming in really quick.”

“Bandits wouldn’t come this far,” Anton grumbled. “They knew that Belinda was taking this route. Well, guessed. Verona, Kal, we’ll be fine. But this will take a while…And it’ll be a good chance to see how effective the summons are. Doesn’t look too serious. But there could be more coming, I don’t think we can leave anytime soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t want our help?”

“No. We’ll be fine.” Anton chuckled. “Nothing more than lightly armoured soldiers and some archers. No mages yet. If that happens we’ll let you know. But I need you two to do what you can. Doesn't sound like you should delay meeting these cantancerous old bastards. If you're late it could do more damage than good. I know you two will do fine, I know you will.”

“Okay! Be safe!”

Verona wanted to jump through the portal and leap into the fray. Not only would it hurt the relationship with the Dark Elves it would also diminish Anton’s trust in her. She had a task, just like he did, and she would see it through even if her nerves wouldn’t stop jittering. Kal was not doing well either but a single glance was enough to see that she had come to the same conclusion.

“Is something wrong?” Ceccitol asked.

“Anton’s fighting bandits,” Verona spoke slowly and flatly. “Or mercenaries, I don’t know. But they want to get Duchess Belinda. Probably because she’s a big part of their civil war.”

“Another one?” Gerin gently shook his head. “Seems that’s what humans are best at.”

“It sounds like the Dark Elves would be having one too if you didn’t live so far apart,” Kal replied, a slight frown on her face.

Gerin wouldn’t argue the point. “Perhaps. We’d better get moving before they come for us.”

---[]---

Verona had no idea how many levels of the Fortress tower they had climbed, maybe thirty or forty before they stopped. Every level swarmed with Dark Elf warriors, these wore lightly coloured tassels around their necks. Gerin explained these were the warriors from the mainland, seemingly content to wait inside the safety of the fortress while their fellows fought and died. They spared a glance for Verona and Kal, curiosity rather than hostility, before returning to their duties, mainly preparing arrows and maintaining their equipment. Finally, they arrived at some sort of meeting chamber though the stairway clearly continued higher still, probably right to the top. Heavily armed Dark Elf guards stood at the giant wooden door. These wielded menacing halberds with a line of archers behind. Verona didn’t like her chances against those.

Gerin stopped them from going further. “Don’t say anything foolish. And definitely, for the love of every god that exists, don’t speak without being asked. These Elders are very prickly and stuck in their ways, they’d have us all executed for talking over them. A bunch of cantankerous bastards.”

“Am I going to be a problem?” Kal asked, a hand ran through the fur on her tail.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. But please don’t do anything too drastic.”

Gerin took a deep breath and the guards opened the door. A thin haze of smoke permeated the air, like the mist that blanketed The Shadow Isles, but this had a distinct blue haze. Verona’s nose recoiled at the smell, so too did Kal’s. She coughed and began breathing through her mouth.

Ten elderly Dark Elves, looking like Ferula but with dark brown skin, sat around a large wooden table. A Dark Elf stood either side of each elder dressed more like servants than warriors. Three were completely asleep, slouched to one side and snoring lightly. A golden wooden item popped out of a fold of their thick cloak. The sleeping dark Elf jolted awake and shuffled it right. The others bickered over a map of The Shadow Isles, pointing to markers of the outer clans and muttering angry curses. One pointed to the DuskReavers Island and shook his head, followed by a horrendous coughing fit. Spittle flew in all directions but he paid it no mind, once again angrily cursing the outer clans for their supposed weakness. The Dark Elven servants kept their faces flat as they watched the almost child-like behaviour before them. But Verona saw their obvious disgust.

Just like some poor children forced to take care of their insane grandparents. Except these grandparents have the authority to send entire clans to their deaths. Only because they allow everyone to pounce on those that go against them. Does that mean they don’t actually have a lot of strength? Some sort of trick of the mind?

“Venerable Elders of the Mist Walkers,” Gerin spoke loudly, a hand to his chest in some sort of military salute. “I have arrived with reinforcements as requested.”

The Elders barley registered his words. Only one looked up. He, at least Verona was sure it was a he, dropped the food from his fingers and rubbed the crust from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“We can see that.” His voice croaked over the otherwise silent room. The other elders paid Gerin almost no attention. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the front? It is the duty of the Island Clans to push them back, yes?”

“I was asked to come here with all haste with reinforcements.” Gerin desperately held back the urge to grind his teeth. “That is what you have asked of all the Island clans, yes? While you sit here safe we fight and die.”

I thought you wanted us to keep calm. What about you?

The elder showed the first flicker of life. “Yes. That is why you have been called. It is only because of the weakness of the Island Clans that we are even in this mess.” He coughed, waving away the servant. “There is nothing to discuss. You and your men will head to the front, push back the Goblins and reclaim the land. Is that too difficult for you?”

Gerin held back the urge to say something rude. He bowed his head and began to walk to walk away when the Elder croaked something.

“I heard there were humans on this land.” He frowned at Verona and Kal. “Any particular reason why they are here? This is a Dark Elf matter.”

“Humans?” A near-blind Dark Elf snapped towards them, her swivelling towards their general direction. “No. They can’t be here. Not again.” She began scratching her arms. “Humans cannot be trusted. Those retching monkeys cannot set foot on this land. Never again. Never again.”

“They are the only help we have,” Gerin spoke calmly. “Unless you were actually going to send your warriors into battle. Fight alongside your fellow Dark Elves to save our homes. And not require the help of humans.”

The Dark Elf scoffed. “Your Island Clans continue to disgrace us. First your kind ally with the United Empire, and now you bring them back. After all they’ve done to our people.”

Building this spire, among other things.

“You should be grateful that you have a chance to finally absolve yourself of that sin.” The Elder smiled. “Even though you seem only capable of acquiring more.” The Elder shook his head. “Consorting with the United Empire again…”

“These aren’t those people,” Gerin spoke adamantly. “The United Empire fell some time ago. And you know that. If you’d bothered to leave these Islands in your entire life you’d…They are mercenaries hired to help us repel the Goblins and restore order.”

The Elder scoffed. “Humans don’t do anything without getting something in return. Only gold and power interest their kind. I hope you didn’t promise them something from our treasury?”

Gerin smiled. “Of course not. Any such rewards would come from our own funds, and not the Mist Walkers. We would never dream of doing such a heinous and thoughtless act.”

“At least you can do something right.” The Elder shook his head. “So long as these humans are willing to fight and die I don’t see a problem. But.” He raised his bony finger. “The moment the Goblins are defeated they are too leave immediately and never return. Do you understand? It’s only by our graces that you DuskReavers are allowed to trade with the Bebbezarians.”

But they’re the only way for wealth to come in and out of your realm. And the Green Moon Clan, the pirates, could obviously leave The Shadow Isles to prey on ships so it’s not like it’s the only port. Doesn’t make any sense if you want to make money. Is this another measure of control? The DuskReavers aren’t a loyal clan. I don’t understand…

“Absolutely.” Gerin bowed.

The Elder groaned. “So long as they know their place.”

I really, really want to say something. But I need to keep my mouth shut.

“How many are there?"

“Four.” Gerin glanced at Verona, who returned a nod.

“Four?” The Dark Elf Elder shrieked. “No. No, that’s too many.”

“You won’t even notice four humans.” Gerin sighed.

The Elder grumbled. “Very well. Now, stop wasting everyone’s time and go and reclaim the land that you have lost. Our warriors will remain on the mainland to ensure the safety of the towns and cities behind the front lines. Several Goblins have already breached the lines while you have been absent. It should not be our duty to push them back but yours.”

“As you wish, Venerable Elders.” Gerin bowed, motioning for the others to follow. “The Goblins will be driven back.”

Heavy armed Dark Elf warriors surrounded and escorted them outside. Verona followed but the Elders barely registered them. They returned to whatever important things they were discussing previously.

Verona waited until they began to descend before speaking.

“What the hell was that?” Verona asked, groaning and stomping her boots onto the hard stone floor. “Just go and fix it. And fuck you?”

“Who is actually leading this offensive?” Kal asked. She too was quite miffed. “I don’t think Anton would have made much of a difference.”

Verona grumbled. “Maybe he could have thrown a few fireballs at them. Get them to wake up a little.”

“Did you not see the amulets around their necks?” Ceccitol asked. “They could easily ward off all but the most powerful magic. Not that they use it much…”

“It was still shit.”

“There’s nothing we can do.” Gerin sighed. “The mainland clans follow the will of the Elders, sometimes, and there are a lot more of them then there are of us. If a clan goes against the will of the Elders they allow the others to take their land and wealth. It keeps everyone fearful of each other and dependent of the Elders.”

“No wonder your clan wants to leave this place.”

Gerin glumly nodded. “That we do. But there’s nothing to be done right now. Perhaps if we reclaim one of the islands things will turn better.”

Verona scoffed. “I doubt it. You saw them, they barely acknowledged you. To them, you, all of us, were nothing more than insects. Even if you reclaimed all the lost land by yourself I doubt they would do anything other than complain that you lost it in the first place. They kind of did, really.”

Gerin sighed. He must have known that but still held hope that things might be different.

“I wonder if there is anything we can do?” Tuccac mused to himself.

“For now we need to help our fellow warriors,” Ceccitol said. “And the warriors from the other Island Clans. They need our help too. We’ll have to find a way to deal with the Elders later. Do what you can do, right father?”

Gerin nodded before wrapping his arm around Ceccitol’s shoulder. Verona held her chin in deep thought as they followed them down along the empty stairwell.

When we get back we’re going to have a little word with these Elders. We aren’t just going to stand there and let them talk to us like that again.

She stopped at a window and looked towards the south.

Please be safe, Anton.

Chapter 131 - Vol 4 - Rumble in the Forest

Chapter 131:

Anton threw a lightning bolt at a Bandit, striking the man in the chest and felling him instantly. Two instantly replaced and charged towards him. One glanced to the side as a sword cleaved through his head, embedding deep in his shoulder. Cetina grunted, wrenching the sword free and kicking the corpse at the other bandit. He stumbled at the sight of his dead friend, not that it truly mattered as another bolt of lightning struck his head. His skull evaporated into mist, his lifeless body careened to a halt a meter from Anton’s feet.

“They just keep coming,” Cetina grumbled, wiping the blood from her flushed face. “They’re all around us.”

“How many so far?” Anton spied a small band climbing a mound to launch arrows at the White Dog mercenaries.

He threw a fireball, catching the men in a small roaring inferno. The sight of charring men screaming was something he hoped never to grow accustomed to.

“I don’t know.” Cetina recovered her shield, dropped to the ground to increase her speed. She glanced at her slick red sword. “I’ve killed twenty so far.”

“Twenty?” Anton saw another gap and exploited it with a lightning bolt, killing another bandit. “And you’re only this tired?”

Cetina laughed and raised her shield. An arrow struck the giant metal shield, Cetina grunted as she took the light shockwave.

“I’ve got him.”

Anton threw a fire lance over the mercenaries and struck another group of Bandits. It cut through and exploded into a shower of flame, gutting the target and setting the others ablaze. The trees immediately behind were almost cut in two and gushed out copious amounts of smoke as fire began to rise up its trunk.

“Can’t you just burn down the forest again?” A voice came from behind. “It worked last time.”

Duchess Belinda, wearing Anton’s cloak to hide her red dress, cowered near the wheel of the carriage. So far she had avoided all combat but her eyes constantly scanned the battle-line.

“We’re still in the forest,” Anton said. “And it’ll kill us too.”

“We could use some help over here!” Conrad ran towards Anton, pointing to the north of their small camp. His armour was bloodied, like Cetina’s, and held many fresh scratches.

“These Bandits shouldn’t be a problem for you.” Belinda began to stand up but Anton forced her down just as a bolt struck the top of the carriage. “Alfred always said they were weaker than mercenaries.”

“Unless they’re deserters.” Cetina offered.

“These aren’t bandits.” Conrad loaded a crossbow resting against the carriage. “Too well armed and determined.”

“I thought so.” Anton held the flame effigy tight in his hand. “I want to try something. This might make things easier.”

“Please hurry.” Belinda pleaded underneath his cloak.

Anton focused his mana to create a level one flame summon. It wasn’t going to be the strongest creature but the stress of battle raging around him was too great to try and create something larger. The effigy eased the formation of the mana structure but didn’t speed up the process. Time dragged as the ring spun around the semi-sphere, all the while he could hear men fighting to the death. The White Dog mercenaries had taken very few casualties but they were growing tired. And the bandits were relentless and seemingly endless in number.

As Cetina struck down another bandit attempting to attack a White Dog in the rear the magic was finished. A small flaming Imp-like creature crawled out of the flaming circle. It stared at him with unblinking, uncaring flaming eyes, simply waiting for a command.

“Kill the Bandits.”

The Imp imperceptibly nodded and ran into the fray. Its small legs climbed up the back of a White Dog Mercenary, yelping at the sudden burst of heat, and lunged at the head of a bandit. Anton saw the stupefaction before a small demonic creature tore into his face with red claws and a small flaming blade.

“Can you make any more of them?” Conrad chuckled nervously.

“A few.”

Anton heard the scream of another bandit felled by the Flaming Imp. As Anton began creating another, he wasn’t ready to try and create two at once, he felt the connection with the Imp fade. The Imp had been struck with a mace, its body broken and fading back into the ether. The Bandits cheered and redoubled their push.

The next Fire Imp emerged, identical to the first. Anton commanded it to attack the bandits but only their necks. Again the Imp agreed and ran into the fray. The Bandits, once so full of bravado and confidence began to run away as the Fire Imp ran through their numbers and cut at their throat. The bandits couldn’t strike him without attacking each other and simply broke. Even the sheer panic was enough to turn the tide.

“Why didn’t you tell me you could summon familiars?” Belinda asked, thankfully still remaining low.

“I haven’t done it in combat before.” Anton smiled at the Duchess. Her face quivered in slight fear as she watched the battle unfold.

Maybe I should try two at once…No. If I did create an Abomination that would be the end of us. It doesn’t take that long after all.

Anton created another four Fire Imps and set them loose into the Bandits. The sight of the small flaming creatures slashing and stabbing at their armour, their flaming hands and daggers easily tore through their light armour, was wonderful and a great relief. Suggestions of cooking pork filled the air, disquieting Anton’s stomach.

“Let’s see how many more of you there are.”

Anton created a lightning crow. It too waited patiently for its order.

“Fly into the sky and tell me how many Bandits there are.”

He was thankful that the summons could understand complex orders. Perhaps they borrowed pieces of information from his mind, like what an enemy actually looked like. The bird soared into the air, returning after Anton summoned another Fire Imp.

“How many?” Conrad asked.

Anton clicked his tongue. “Well, if this guy is correct, there’s another two hundred bandits coming towards us.”

“Fuck’s sake!” Conrad glanced at Belinda. “Apologies for the rude words, Duchess.”

Belinda chuckled nervously, waiving down his concerns from her almost prone position.

“But there’s three in that group that are different.” Anton continued. “Two are wearing red robes and one brown.”

“Oh no.” Cetina gripped her shield tight and moved next to Anton.

“Mages?” Conrad swore again. “We don’t have enough archers or crossbowmen to deal with them.”

“I’m not going to be much use,” Belinda said. “I barely know a few spells, and I’m not very powerful.”

A bandit broke through the perimeter to the east. Instead of attacking the rear of the defending mercenaries he charged straight at Belinda, his eyes spoke of the riches he would receive for delivering the fatal blow. Belinda’s hand wrenched her silver charm from her chest and held it towards the bandit.

“A snake of wrath and flame!”

A small snake of flame erupted from Belinda’s tightly clutched charm. The bandit raised his iron shield to block the strike but Belinda directed it over and onto his head. He screamed as the fire melted his face and his body collapsed.

“I...I actually killed one.” Belinda gasped, frowning at the dead body. “That’s the first person I’ve ever killed.”

“It’s not easy,” Cetina said. “Hopefully something you don’t have to get used to.”

“As a Duchess, I shouldn’t even be fighting.” Belinda pulled the cloak tight around her body, the fire charm remained clutched tight in her hands.

Cetina tapped Anton’s arm. “I can see them.”

Out of the gloom of the forest, Anton saw the bright robes of two Fire Mages and a brown robed mage, presumably an Earth Mage, lurking in the shadows. The Fire Mages appeared to be of similar height, build and even facial structure.

Are all Fire Mages twins or something? It’s too late to get Verona and Kal here. If they were to break the portal then it’d be all over.

“If we beat these three I’m sure the enemy will scatter,” Anton said, preparing another Fire Imp. “Though this could get messy. I’ve never gone against a Principle Mage before.”

“You mean you killed them right away, right?” Conrad’s worry only deepened when Anton shook his head.

“Stay close Cetina. If you see an opportunity to flank them or something then take it.” Cetina nodded seriously to his words. “But don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

“I think if you died Verona and Kal would kill me.” Cetina chuckled nervously. “That was one of the things they told me.”

Anton, creating another Lightning crow, directed his summons to finish off the bandits to their rear. The three mages stopped at the edge of the battle but didn’t immediately attack. Anton wished his summons to move faster and they responded, after taking some more of his mana. It wasn’t much but the drain was constant and noticeable.

“By the light of the fire, strike down my enemies!” Both Fire Mages yelled over the clamour of battle.

From the tops of their staves, two large fireballs grew and flung themselves towards the line of mercenaries and bandits.

They don’t give a shit about who they hit. At least I’m not that bad.

Anton was too far away to use the magic shield so he created two small lightning bolts and threw them at the Mage’s magic. His were faster but not as powerful. Upon touching they exploded, causing the fireballs to disintegrate and throwing their contents over the bandits. The embers weren’t lethal but enough to blunt the bandit assault.

“By the light of the fire, strike down my enemies!” The Fire Mages shouted again. Anton didn’t like the silence and inaction of the Earth Mage. It all felt very reminiscent of the battle against Ferula’s Strega Witches.

This time Anton summoned a Fire Shield and pushed it away as far as he could safely manage. Cetina moved in front and readied her shield to take the strike if it failed. The fireballs collided with the magical shield, Anton felt them tearing through but his magic held.

As the Fire Mages prepared another attack the Earth Mage was clearly finishing his spell.

“Not exactly going to wait for that one,” Anton mumbled.

Anton threw a Lightning Lance at the mages, dropping the shield at the last moment. One Fire Mage and the Earth Mage threw up a magical defence, a fire shield and one made from wet dirt, while the second Fire Mage stood stunned at the blast coming towards him. A faint circle of fire began to emerge but it was too late. Without a shield the lance hit the Mage square in the gut, cutting right through him and into a tree behind. Lightning arced off the lance after passing through his body and struck some retreating bandits. The tree’s leaves sputtered and smouldered from the raw energy flowed into it.

“Brother!” The Fire Mage shouted, dropped his shield and raced to his side.

As he cradled his brother Anton threw a small barrage of lightning bolts followed by a fire lance. He was so distraught that he couldn’t create a shield. The Earth Mage could. A wall of mud, literally sucked from the ground, blocked the strikes. The lance bore through the shield but another layer of mud snuffed out the fire.

“Get it together.” The Earth Mage snapped at the Fire Mage, still hidden by the wall. He sounded older but the cloak hid such features. “This one’s different. If I’d finished my spell this would have been over. No more messing about. It’s already cost one life.”

A few more, actually.

“I…Right.”

“He’s a Glyph mage. Remember to unravel his magic whenever you can.”

Anton quickly checked on his summons. They were still fighting and the White Dog Mercenaries were winning easily now. Only half the Bandits remained and quickly fell to numerically superior and more organised forces. Anton called off the Lightning crows and directed them to perch on a tree overlooking the Mages. Hopefully, they would be distracted by him and not notice the birds. The Imps were directed towards the Mages. Both Mages were shocked to see the Fire Imps running towards them, not screaming or hollering but with a silent desire to kill.

“A Summoner too!” The Earth Mage yelled. “I’ve got this.”

He tapped his staff on the ground, the charm on top glowed brightly. “By the coldness of the earth, of its unending depths, strike down this foolish trespasser!”

Couldn’t he have come up with a better chant? Belinda said that it only helps them remember the mathematics…

Anton threw another lightning lance as small chunks of dirt ripped free of the ground, reforming themselves into long, thin shards. They shot forward and smashed through the Imps. Anton raised another shield, lightning this time, as the stone shards continued their trajectory. Large puffs of dust came through his side of the shield. Unfortunately, the bandits and mercenaries still in that path were cut down. It wasn’t many on their side but Anton still hated the loss.

I’ve still got the Lightning Crows above them. Should I use a Tetrahedron bomb on them? See how much damage it does to people? I think I am close enough.

Just as Anton readied attack again he noticed the Earth Mage was still speaking, mumbling under his breath from behind the relative safety of his damaged earthen shield, but the words spilling from his mouth weren’t gibberish. Something was happening to his lightning shield. Although the mana drain hadn’t changed the shield flickered and grew weak.

Fucker’s breaking down my magic!

Anton’s leg suddenly felt cold. Dirt covered his leg up to his thigh. It felt like iron, worse still it was slowly crushing down.

“Cetina! A little help.”

Cetina took one look, dropped her sword and rammed the edge of her shield into the dirt. A slight dent emerged, one that quickly smoothed over.

“Fine then.” Anton created a Lightning Tetrahedron bomb. “Let’s see what you can do with this.”

Anton threw the bomb forward with all his might. Just like the Lightning shield it flickered and lost its form, turning into a Lightning sphere. The surviving fire mage chanted something towards his magic and reduced it again before it struck the earthen shield, even with tears streaming down his dirty face he could still fight.

“I’m already hating Principle mages.” Anton formed another lightning lance.

The Earth Mage, in the middle of chanting something else, stopped. He slammed his staff into the ground, another wall of dirt rose up but angled this time. The lightning lance struck the wall and bounced away before slamming into a tree. The old tree exploded into a thousand flying pieces of wood. A Lightning Crow faded from his control.

“I saw what you were doing.” The Earth Mage spoke smugly, even with splinters covering his side and back. “Did you think you could hide that summon?”

His remaining Lightning Crow rested in the trees some distance away. Too far away to strike the Earth Mage, for now at least. More worryingly the dirt binding his leg continued to press down. He could feel something trying to cut its way through too.

Let’s not worry about incurring Nithroel’s wrath anymore.

Anton created a fire ring and released it underneath the mage's feet, just as both were about to unleash another attack. The Fire Mage’s eyes shot to the ground as it began to redden and the grass burn.

“Shit. Too much-” The ground beneath the Earth Mage quivered before erupting and throwing him to safety, landing in a cradle of mud some distance away. Anton threw another lightning bolt but it was blocked.

The Fire Mage was loathed to flee from his dead brother but knew he had little choice. He flung himself from the flaming ground just before the column of flame erupted, consuming everything in its wake. Trees burst into flame and the very air roared, stunning the few surviving Bandits. The White Dog Mercenaries had seen this before and didn’t hesitate, carving through the remaining bandits.

“I’ll take the Flame Mage.” Cetina gripped her shield tight. “Take care of that Earth Mage.”

“Don’t die on me, Cetina.” Anton grit his teeth through the pain of screaming from his leg. Already he could hear his bones cracking.

Cetina ran towards the Fire Mage, still stumbling away from the flame. He stopped before inspecting the crater where his brother once lay. Now nothing but molten dirt and stone remained. He saw Cetina approach, wearing her brightly coloured clothes, and bared his teeth in anger.

Anton prayed that Cetina would, at the very least, not get herself killed before he’d dealt with the Earth Mage. He summoned a lightning ring above the Earth Mage.

“Again?!” The dirt shot him away again, well before the lightning bolts rained down. As he flew through the air he fired off another barrage of stone fragments. Anton blocked them with a lightning shield. “How much mana does this fool have?”

“A lot,” Anton said. “But I still need practice, it seems.”

A large dirt bullet travelled low along the ground to strike Anton’s knee above the strangling dirt. Anton created a small lightning shield but it wasn’t strong enough to destroy it. It hit his kneecap, shattering it in a blinding burst of pain. He chanted a prayer to numb all sense of pain, which appeared to work, though it now just felt like his whole body was recovering from anaesthesia. The Earth Mage prepared another landing cradle but Anton wasn’t going to let him rest. He directed the lightning summon to attack whilst preparing another lightning ring, but this time angled it vertically rather than horizontal and pushed it right next to the Earth Mage.

The Earth Mage nearly laughed before preparing to jump again. “Ridiculous” A smirk grew on his face and the dirt folded in, ready to throw him out of range of Anton’s strike. “How’s that foot?”

“I can’t feel it.” Anton smiled. “But I’m not worried.”

A small bolt of lightning smashed into the Earth Mage’s body. Dirt burst from his body as every muscle twitched and tried to contract. Anton almost felt the creature was proud of itself, if a summon could do such a thing. The Earth Mage’s eyes flicked towards the fully formed lightning ring, a faint tear in his eyes. Hundreds of lightning bolts flew forth, almost half striking the poor Earth Mage. His outstretched hand took the first bolt, the stump the next. Every strike blew away more pieces of his flesh until there was nothing lest bar a charred mist. The dirt coiling around Anton’s leg cracked and fell away. Blood gushed from the ruined leg. Not one bone or piece of muscle was intact, even his armour had crumpled and forcibly moulded around his ruined limb. Thankfully the scales weren’t visible.

Fuck! Thank the Gods he focused on keeping me still. Imagine if that had gotten up around my throat? I think that Cetina would be joining me. Speaking of.

Anton chanted a quick prayer to partially heal his wound before turning his attention to Cetina. A large fireball struck her shield as she closed on the terrified Fire Mage. His back had been badly burned by the flame pillar but he could still fight. He summoned another ball of flame as Cetina dropped her sword and gripped her shield with all her might. He managed another attack, the inside of the shield glowed red. Cetina shouted in pain, her metal gauntlets smoking, before ramming into him with her shield. A terrible scream and the sound of sizzling meat filled the air. Cetina forced the burning shield onto his face and chest before he managed to kick her off with a small blast of flame at point blank range. Cetina landed on her back next to him, the shield well out of her reach. She struck his mouth with the back of her mailed fist and drew a small dagger with the other. The mage caught it in his hand but wasn’t strong enough to overpower Cetina. His eyes, wild with terror and uncontrollable panic, watched the knife’s edge sink through his eviscerated fingers and deep into his throat. After a second of struggling his body fell limp, the staff rolled out of his hand and onto the scorched grass.

“Fucking hell,” Cetina grumbled.

Anton smiled, but he couldn’t join her just yet. He summoned another Lightning crow and sent them both to work, dealing with the last of the Bandits. Within a minute every bandit lay dead or dying slow and terrible deaths. The White Dog’s shouted a cheer of victory. Whatever Belinda was paying them it wasn’t enough.

“Are you alright?” Anton asked Cetina, still lying down and catching her breath.

“I…I don’t think so.” Cetina laughed as she held up her gloves. The metal held scorch marks while the leather underneath had blackened and warped. “I can barely move my hands. They sting like crazy too.”

Anton reached down and pulled Cetina up. She hesitated to take his hand but one stern look was enough to change her mind.

“Thanks,” Cetina mumbled.

“I should be thanking you.” Anton laughed, patting her shoulder. “If you hadn’t distracted that Fire Mage I could be dead. Not to mention-”

“Your foot!” Cetina knelt down, inspecting the damage. A terrified wince covered her face. “Fuck. They told me not to let you get hurt.”

Anton laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t feel much out of this but it’s not that bad. I’ve taken the edge off it.”

“They’ll kill me if they know what happened to you.”

“Same.” Anton held his finger to his lips. “So, how about we keep this our little secret. Okay?”

Cetina smiled nervously but agreed nonetheless. She offered her shoulder for Anton but Anton politely declined, he could still move fine. For now at least.

“Is that all of them?” Conrad asked, still at Belinda’s side. His sword was freshly bloodied with another dead bandit lying at his feet.

“For now.” Anton limped towards the carriage. Cetina grunted and took his arm, holding it over her shoulder for support. “Thanks, Cetina.”

“It’s not a problem, Anton.” Cetina smiled. “You’re actually quite light.”

“Are you saying you’re heavy?” Anton laughed. “That’s not something a woman should be saying about themselves.”

Cetina flushed a little, shrugging and pulling Anton forward with renewed vigour.

“Are you two done flirting?” Conrad asked, a slight sneer on his face.

“Not with this foot. I think I’ll need Cetina for a while yet.”

Conrad took Belinda’s hand and gently helped her to her feet.

“Do we continue or rest here for the night?” Belinda asked, brushing small clods of dirt off the cloak. “Ugh. I wish that Alfred was here. He would know what to do.”

You are a little lost without him, aren’t you?

“I say we rest here,” Conrad said. He glanced at the dead Bandits and few dead mercenaries. “My men are tired and wounded. They won’t be going much further tonight.”

“Can you actually heal that leg?” Belinda asked, worry on her fine-featured face. “I saw that Earth Mage Entomb your leg. I didn’t think I’d see that magic again. You’re lucky he didn’t bind the other one too.”

“He just wanted me to stop moving.” Anton laughed. Now the pain was truly starting to return. He winced and Cetina held him tighter. “He was about to do something but…He never got that chance. He also had to keep an eye on my Lightning Crows.”

“Is there any chance that you can heal my men?” Conrad asked. “We’ll move a lot slower having to carry them.”

“Sure.” Anton glanced at Cetina. “Just gather them into one area. I’ll make sure they don’t die but I can’t do much else for them right now. Over the next few days, they’ll be back to normal.”

“That’ll be great.” Conrad whistled at his men, many hunching over and using their weapons to prop themselves up. He issued orders and the men began to organise themselves.

Conrad shook his head as several dead White Dog Mercenaries were laid before him. “Damn shame. At least you can do more than those Church fuck’s can. Everyone you can save I will personally thank you for.”

Anton nodded. “Cetina, I might need your help to move me while I do this. My foot’s still playing up.”

“Shouldn’t you deal with that first?” She asked worryingly.

“Not when there are these dying people.” Anton waved his free hand towards the bleeding mercenaries. “We’re going to need them all.”

---[]---

Anton felt utterly exhausted as he sat down on the step of the carriage. He had saved every White Dog Mercenary that wasn’t dead, though they would still be in considerable pain for some time. He didn’t have the reserves to heal them completely just in case there was more fighting. So far the Lightning Crows hadn’t spotted anything but it was better to be safe than sorry. He could heal them fully when they reached Maxill and some semblance of safety. So long as the city hadn’t fallen, a real possibility. Belinda didn’t like the implications either and retired early. She held onto Anton’s cloak and wrapped it tight around her body as she laid down onto the seat of the carriage. It wasn’t the best place to sleep but she endured it regardless, she had little choice. Cetina had jumped through the portal to Atros and returned with bundles of healing herbs and some Karak fruit for Anton. The mercenaries were surprised and exceedingly grateful to have them. It was nowhere near as powerful as his magic but it was leagues better than nothing.

“What a day,” Anton grumbled quietly. “Do you think the Earth Mage was going easy on me?”

“I don’t think so.” Cetina knelt before him and held his mangled boot. “But I’m not a mage, so I really wouldn’t know. Since he’s a…Principle Mage, maybe those little summons of yours kept him on his toes? If he was going to use a big magic you could hit him with one of those and kill him while he couldn’t use his own magic. But-”

Cetina glanced around. There were still far too many people awake, many glancing towards an attractive young Bebbezzarian woman kneeling before him holding his leg.

“Maybe not here,” Cetina mumbled.

“Don’t say it like that.” Anton chuckled. “There are not many private places around here. I’m proud that you didn’t freak out when everyone started to undress at the lake.”

Cetina chuckled. “Only because you told me it was going to happen. Never thought I would see almost a hundred naked men. If I wrap my cloak around it I should be able to hide…it.”

No one looked towards them, Anton gave her a quick nod. Cetina removed her gloves and unbuckled Anton’s boot. Wet and sticky blood seeped from the leather and metal buckles, Cetina groaned and gently pulled it down.

“I think you need a new one.” Cetina ran her finger along the stitches. Most were broken and fell apart under her light touch. “There’s no way you should be using this. Just about everything’s broken and drenched in blood.” She looked up at him with her single eye. “Your blood.”

Anton waved her concerns down. “It’s fine. Tethra can fix it, though it’ll cost a bit.”

“She can fix armour too?” Cetina raised a black brow.

“Of course.” Anton scratched his cheek as Cetina began to pull the boot free. “Though we discovered that by accident. We don’t need to remove it entirely. I don’t know if there’s anything stuck it’ll fuse with me when I heal myself.”

It was quite stuck so she had to twist and pull hard, something that sent sharp pangs of pain up Anton’s leg.

“Please be a little more gentle.” Anton pleaded. “Especially since…”

Cetina glanced around, no one was close enough to listen in. Except for Belinda. A quick glance revealed she was in deep asleep.

“If someone heard that they’d think that you were doing more than just taking off my boot.”

Cetina’s eye glanced to his crotch and her tanned face turned red. She scrunched her hands and sighed.

“I can see that. But…” She coughed and looked away. “Anyway, let’s deal with this first.”

First?

“This could be a little painful.” Cetina continued to try and remove his boot but it was a slow process. She kept glancing up, judging his face for any sign of discomfort. “We’ll just get it half way then I’ll get some water.”

“Cetina? I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you into the mess-”

“It’s fine.” Cetina smiled, taking the opportunity to pull down a little more. “I chose to join you all in this. I know that, if I asked, you would have dropped me off in Bebbezzar. So stop worrying.”

“Okay.” Anton smiled as Cetina pulled the boot halfway off.

Cetina immediately pulled her cloak tight around his foot. Nearly every scale had broken while his skin had stretched to the point of leaking blood. The scale ridges had collapsed and everything was horrendously inflamed. And this was after he’d healed himself, though lightly.

“Wow.” Cetina chuckled. She gently touched the bloody scales, eliciting a wince from Anton. “If this had been anyone else they wouldn’t be walking. Perhaps ever.” She smiled. “You’re very lucky you have Tethra’s power.”

“I think I am.” Anton chanted a prayer aloud, healing his foot slightly. “Without her, I’d long be dead.”

Cetina began scraping away the blood. “Have you ever thought of selling that ability? I’m sure you’d make a lot of money from it.”

“I actually have.” Anton flexed his toes. “And I think I could do some good too. But the only place I could do that is Graterious, maybe Seocuria, and even they don’t like the Old Gods. Perhaps the Clansmen might allow it. If they don’t kill us on sight.”

Cetina slowly nodded and continued cleaning. A pleasant silence filled their air between them, ruined slightly by the groans of the wounded White Dog Mercenaries.

“Cetina? What did Verona and Kal tell you? Apart from keeping me safe?”

Cetina stopped, her face and body turned rigid. “I-They told me to take care of you. Especially when they’re not here.” A reddening face looked at him. “If things become an issue at night…”

“Are you serious?” Anton forced himself to remain calm. “They asked you to-”

Cetina nodded. “I don’t have an-”

The Lightning Crow sent a message through the thought tether, a new force of bandits were approaching. About one hundred and fifty with no signs of mages.

“We’ve got company.” Anton raised his hand, thankful he didn’t have to continue the line of conversation. “Quite a lot too.”

Cetina deftly refastened his boot. “Where?”

“From the north.” Anton held his lightning effigy and summoned four additional Lightning Crows. He directed them into the sky, just above the tree-line and towards the Bandits. “We might not have to fight this time.”

“I’ll get my shield.”

“I wonder what the range of these things is?” Anton asked aloud, watching the small birds fly into the sky.

As Cetina took up position near him, her shield and sword ready, Anton directed the Lightning Crows to dive through the canopy, fire off a single lightning bolt and dart back to safety. While not the most honourable fight it would definitely be the safest. Small flashes of light and crackles of thunder alerted the resting White Dog Mercenaries.

“What’s happening?” Conrad asked, his hands were filled with bloodstained bandages wrapped around healing herbs.

“Another attack.” Anton sighed. “It’s some distance away. I wanted to test something.”

Anton saw the panicking bandits, huddling together in the darkness, illuminated by the lightning, as archers fired wildly into the sky in a vain attempt to hit the soaring Lightning Crows. Only a few were falling with every pass but they were completely helpless against this style of attack.

“It is a little unfair.”

Conrad glanced at Cetina. “Please warn us next time. You both need to sleep.”

“I will.”

Conrad returned to his duties. Cetina kept her stance until the sounds of lightning receded.

“Is it done now?”

The five Lightning Crows gently perched onto the carriage. “For now. I think that other group was trying to catch up to this one. Any idea who sent them?”

“I haven’t checked their bodies,” Cetina said. “I was a little more worried about the person with a crushed leg.”

“I think we know who sent them.” Anton stretched out his legs. “Let’s have a little look after I send these to have a final search.”

The five Lightning Crows darted into the sky.

“I think that the second Fire Mage still has his tome in one piece.” Anton took his first few steps. After another healing it was acceptable. “I wonder what else he has.”

“Please don’t try anything stupid.” Cetina took his arm to lessen the load on his leg.

He silently thanked her and they walked to the perimeter of their camp. Many of the Bandits had already been stripped of anything valuable before the bodies were dumped into a great pile. Anton didn’t have any desire for their gear, their coin would be a much-needed bonus for the White Dog mercenaries. If they found something truly incriminating he hoped they would share it, so he wouldn’t need to compel anyone to speak with his magic.

The second Fire Mage remained where Cetina had felled him, the blood around his body had dried and mixed with the dirt and leaves, waxy eyes stared endlessly into the sky.

“There it is.” Anton pointed at a small book on his hip. “I wonder if it’s an Intermediate Principle Magic book. We don’t have one of those.”

Cetina ripped it free and gingerly opened the pages. It wasn’t an Intermediate book, only a Beginner, but it wasn’t the same as the book provided by Ferula so Anton considered it a victory. Unfortunately whatever could have been learned from the other two Mages had been completely obliterated, one in a torrent of flame, the other in a barrage of lightning blasts.

Such a shame.

“Anything else?” Anton asked.

He flicked through the pages. These were still near indecipherable mathematical scrawls, but many notes had been written in the margins. It had been well used, soon it would be again.

“I’ve got something.”

Cetina reached around the man’s waist and drew out a small pouch. A roughly folded piece of paper lay within. Anton’s heart sunk, just like when he saw the map held by the Kobolds. The rough map showed the line of their journey as well as the estimated position of Atros. It wasn’t far off, not that it wouldn’t be that hard to see once free of the forest. Atros was the only source of smoke in the entire Kar Kingdom.

“Fuck’s sake.” Anton shook his head. “Again with this crap.”

“What?...Oh. They really do know where you are.”

“Belinda found it on her first try so it can’t be that hard.” Anton sighed. “Looks like we made the right decision.”

“There was another piece of paper in there.” Cetina pulled out a small scrap of rough paper. “I can’t read it though.”

Anton’s eyes scanned the paper. “It just tells them to kill Duchess Belinda. But no reward, strange for a mercenary. It does...Ah. It mentions their families.”

Anton looked at the corpse lying at their feet. “I don’t think they were actually that hostile.”

Cetina frowned. “Are you saying they were forced to fight?”

“Maybe.” Anton shrugged. “If they were being forced to fight they clearly weren’t fighting at their best.”

“So you got away easy?” Cetina winced.

Anton tapped the paper. “This last bit. It mentions a child. I don’t think I need to tell you how threatening someone’s kid makes them change. But it doesn’t bode well for me against a determined and skilled Principle Mage. Still. Maybe if I can use multiple lances at once, throw in a few other things as well. That should tear them to shreds.”

“Aren’t you worried about that too?” Cetina looked very serious. “Verona and Kal told me they plan to have children before things get even more hectic, but they could become targets too. Right?”

“We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Besides, I’ve got a very good bodyguard, right?”

Cetina chuckled but the redness returned, along with the implanted knowledge of what a bodyguard was supposed to do at night. Anton sighed silently at his wives, most likely Verona, trying to corrupt Cetina’s mind.

“If we could get someone into the capital, if that’s where their children and families are being held, the Mages could help us form the inside. Something to talk about in the morning.

Three mercenaries approached. Their hands were filled with coins and other valuable trinkets taken from dead men. Eyes fell upon the dead Fire Mage.

“If you find anything magical do be careful.” Anton tapped Cetina’s shoulder and nodded back to the camp. “Any books, tomes, scrolls or whatever belong to us. Everything else is yours. But don’t you dare and try and take something that belongs to me, understood?”

The mercenaries took his words to heart and began to scavenge the nearby corpses.

Anton walked far more confidently than before. “I wonder what those two are going to say about all this.”

Chapter 132 - Vol 4 - First Battle in The Shadows

Chapter 132:

“Thank you.” The Dark Elf whimpered to Kal. He held her hand tight, completely uncaring for her Beast-kin limbs. “Thank you so much.”

Kal smiled, gently patting his head. “Just rest for now. It’ll take some time before your wounds heal and I don’t want to see any more. Okay?”

She patted the hand as it fell limp. The Dark Elf nodded, closed his eyes and instantly drifted to sleep. A faint white glow covered his body as Tethra’s prayer slowly worked to restore his body. His wounds were deep but not life-threatening, no missing limbs either.

We’re very lucky that we met Ferula and those books on magic. Otherwise, I’d only be able to help a few.

Almost all the Dark Elves in the large tent glowed, to some extent; all heavily wounded DuskReavers, and a few from the other Island Clans. Gerin had been swamped with requests for Kal’s abilities but he handled it well. For political favours. Kal helped those staring down death but the others would have to wait for another time. She didn’t have time or mana to create a healing artefact, which she didn’t know would work and would drain most of her mana, and she only had a few more moments within the fortresses walls. A pair of DuskReaver warriors stood near the entrance with a Sand Timer to their side. Very little sand remained in the top.

Verona sat nearby, watching the thin trail of sand pouring through the glass contraption. She said this device, this artefact, had some relevance to Anton’s original world, a strange world without magic. Kal presumed it had something to do with the writing etched into the Sand Timer in Gerin’s mansion. They had yet to hear from Anton or Cetina. She knew they would be fine but she wanted to hear their voices, but only when they were safe. A moment’s distraction was enough to end a life, something she knew all too well.

“Just one more.” Kal murmured.

“Did you say something?” Verona asked, her chin resting in her palms.

“I’m almost done.” Kal moved to the final Dark Elf. She bled heavily from many deep wounds covering her bandaged body, along with an amputated arm and a torn ear.

At least the Goblins didn’t bring her back to their nest.

“Then we need to head to the front.” Kal laid her hand on the woman’s head.

“Don’t use all your magic.” Verona squeaked as she stretched her back, pushing out her chest.

The Dark Elf warriors couldn’t help but steal a glance. Verona shot back a glare, the men snapped their eyes away as she chuckled silently. Kal finished her chant to being healing the woman over the next seven days. It still used a decent portion of mana but nothing compared to an instantaneous healing. Her pained face relaxed as the inflamed redness began to fade away.

Kal clapped her hands and returned to Verona.

“All good?” Verona raised a silver brow.

“They’ll live.” Kal smiled at the Dark Elf warriors. “And, hopefully, their wounds will completely recover given time.”

“Excellent.” Verona leapt up, hugging Kal tight. Kal sighed internally as Verona buried her head into her chest.

I have armour on. You can barely feel anything underneath.

“Are you done?” Kal pried off the hugging monster, much to her amusement.

“Better now. You haven’t heard anything from them yet?”

“Not yet.” Kal looked out of the tent. The fading mist drenched sunlight was slowly replaced by the faint purple hue given off from the top of the tower. “But I don’t want to wait much longer.”

“Yeah…Either way, there’s not a lot we can do without a portal.” Verona sighed. “If only Belinda hadn’t turned up for just a little bit longer. Then this would have been easy.”

Verona made for the exit, a Dark Elf warrior pulled back the sheet.

“Well, easier.” Verona chuckled.

Outside was still a disorganised mess. Kal had never been one for too much organisation until recently, living as a wandering vagabond hadn’t taught her much in that regard, but even she felt saddened by the lack of order. Warriors weren’t being left to die in the mud but it wasn’t far off. A small distance away she spotted Ceccitol and Tuccac speaking with a small group of Dark Elves. The small tassels they wore were red and dark green speckled with blue. She had no idea which clan they belonged to.

“Verona. Kal.” Anton’s voice echoed in her head. “Are you there?”

“We are.” Verona laughed, stopping and smiling at Kal. “Are you always going to start speaking with your wives like that? Like you would when writing to Cassius or Wilford.”

“Perhaps. Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Kal grumbled. “But don’t worry about us. We aren’t the ones that got attacked by bandits. Are you both safe?”

“We are. Cetina’s fine too. We had a few losses but nothing too severe. Our first run-in with enemy Principle Mages. I don’t think we…I mean I didn’t do that well, all things considered.”

“You couldn’t’ just burn down the forest around us.” Cetina calmly added.

“Yes. But I expected to be able to kill them more easily. One of them managed to almost rip my leg off, but we dealt with him.”

“How the fuck did a Mage almost rip your leg off?” Though Verona was speaking through her mind Kal saw her face drenched in anger, so much so the nearby Dark Elf’s gave her some space. “Are they still alive?”

“No. They’re dead. We’ll tell you about it later. But I need to ask you two something.”

“What is it?” Kal asked.

“Cetina? Could you please take off your necklace for a moment?”

“Okay.”

It was impossible to tell if Cetina had actually removed the enchantment.

“What’s wrong?” Verona asked.

There was a great pause before Anton spoke again.

“What did you tell Cetina to do? Other than just keep me safe?”

I knew this would come back to bite us.

Kal glanced at Verona. She was the one that did most of the speaking. And convincing.

“Umm…” Verona’s body swayed unnaturally as she tried to think her way out of this. Strangely those thoughts weren’t echoing through Kal’s head. “Well, if she’s already told you then I don’t need to explain much more. So, what do you think?”

“I was a little surprised when she told me that you told her to relieve me at night if I needed it.”

“That was the idea.” Verona mused, holding her finger to her lip as she dragged Kal along. “It wasn’t…sex per se, but things with her mouth and hands are still fine. She’s followed that part, right?”

“We haven’t done anything.” Anton sounded a little angry. “And why did you even offer her to do something like that? Aren’t I married to you two?”

“You remember when you took Kal as your second woman?” Verona asked. “We said that she was joining your harem. And that you would need one, for later. “

“I don’t remember that second bit.”

“And then I mentioned it when we were in Soulthor, but then the Mole Rats attacked before you could really answer.”

“I…I remember that part too.” Anton sighed very faintly. “So why-”

“Because you need people that are going to stay by your side no matter what,” Kal said adamantly, surprising Verona and even herself. “We won’t always be there to fight alongside you. So you need someone who’s loyal and strong by your side. Someone’s who’s never going to betray you for wealth or power.”

“And the best way is for me to have sex with them until they’d never think of doing that?”

“Is there a problem with that?” Verona asked honestly. “Cetina’s far from ugly. She’s strong, loyal, attentive, and she doesn’t have a problem with some certain changes. So why not? And she’s not the only one you’ve got an eye on either…”

Anton exhaled again. “Because I promised myself to you two and not-”

“Hold that thought.” Verona smiled wickedly, winking at Kal again. “You told me that people from your world normally only take one partner, right?”

“Right.”

“But you took Kal, and I mean you took her,” Kal felt her face redden at Verona’s words. They weren’t exactly false either. “Without really resisting. So why is this any different?”

“There’s a lot. Firstly, I’m married to both of you.”

“So long as they follow The Rules I don’t really have a problem with it,” Kal said. “If they do that I’m fine with a harem. So long as it doesn’t get too ridiculous in size.”

“And how many would that be?”

“Ah, so you are interested.” Verona teased. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“Stop it, Verona.” There was no real threat to Anton’s voice. “I don’t…I don’t know how I would feel about this. Or Cetina. Have you even spoken to her about this?”

“Not yet,” Verona replied. “Just the nightly attendant stuff.”

“I think we might have pushed far enough for today,” Kal turned to Verona. A silver brow was raised in return. “If we go too far it could put him off forever. You know, pushing back after coming across too hard.”

“Good thinking Kal.” Verona chuckled. “We made more progress today than I thought I would. If you notice, he didn’t say no. To you or Cetina.”

“I still think it’s a little much for you both to have asked of her,” Anton said after some pause.

“This is our chance,” Verona whispered.

“Speaking like this about something important just isn’t right. It’s kind of hard to get things across when we can’t see each other’s faces. We’ll talk more when we see each other next, alright?”

“Alright…You two stay safe.”

“We will.” Both replied in unison, eliciting a chuckle.

“Good luck in Qaiviel,” Kal said. “Don’t let them destroy our home.”

Anton laughed. “I won’t. I’ll talk to you both soon.”

Both girls relinquished their hold over their rings. Verona laughed as they continued towards the small group of Dark Elves.

“Nice thinking there at the end.” Verona sniggered. “End on a high note so he doesn’t question what we said before. And you’re always accusing him of being manipulative.”

“He is.” Kal folded her arms, her ears pulled back in defiance. “Sometimes he just doesn’t seem to know it.” Kal’s ears fell down. A gloved finger scratched on the tip. “He did that to me and he wasn’t even trying…”

Verona laughed, linking her arm with Kal’s. “It was pretty funny once I realised what was happening. Was I just slow for a while there? I don’t know. But we’ll get ‘em. Don’t worry. And we’ll make sure they all follow The Rules. They’re a pretty good list too.”

Kal nodded. She was second, even if Verona and Anton would never dare say or think it. So long as any potential haremettes didn’t try and jump ahead, and they followed The Rules, there wasn’t a real problem. Verona certainly didn’t have an issue. If anything the idea excited her. Unnaturally so.

I wonder if Verona’s corrupted me like she has Anton?

---[]---

Darkness had all but completely overtaken The Shadow Isles before they reached a small hill overlooking the front lines. The faint purple light from the tower hung high behind them, in front lay a massive field of brightly burning torches.

Verona groaned loudly next to Kal. While Kal had a better handle of the Jaguar Mount Verona was still struggling.

She’s sitting down when she needs to be standing up. Or maybe it’s those lumps on her chest that are dragging her down.

Verona rubbed her shoulders after dismounting the somewhat terrifying beast. She raised a brow as Kal looked at her but Kal didn’t respond. Verona would tease her for days for being jealous.

“This seems nice,” Verona said mockingly. “It’s a bloody war zone.”

She wasn’t wrong. Dark Elves, some riding the Jaguars but most on foot, fought a strange battle against a seemingly endless horde of Goblins pouring in from the black void beyond. They didn’t form a cohesive line, like humans or even Dwarves would, instead darting back and forth firing arrows and slicing Goblins apart that got too close. Small packs of Jaguar’s ran through the lines targeting isolated packs of Goblins with Chelium tipped lances, the distinctive blue metal shining brightly against the flickering light of the torches.

Kal sighed. “Anton would be far better in this place than us. He could just take out the forest and the Goblins would retreat. Though that would leave other problems.”

“We’d still like the forest in one piece when we’re done.” Gerin frowned. “Some of these trees are ancient, far older than the United Empire, and are very important to us.”

“Not as important as you all dying.” Verona folded her arms and overlooked the battle. “Nothing matters when you’re dead.”

Ceccitol shot her father a look, one that silenced his incoming rebuttal.

“So what do you want us to do?” Kal asked. “Our magic isn’t that destructive. Well, at least mine isn’t.”

Verona laughed. “Mine is short range. That’s what Anton called it anyway.”

“We’ll head to the command post and see what they need.” Gerin whipped on the reins, driving his temperamental beast forward. So too did the other Dark Elves.

Behind the fields of lights, Kal saw small camps surrounded by nervous guards, all equipped with bows and arrows nocked. Their attention lay squarely towards the running battles in the field of light. Every so often a group of Goblins would breach perimeter only to be struck down by a flurry of black arrows flying out of the darkness. Kal saw the Dark Elves hiding amongst the trees and shrubbery, silent and patiently waiting for their targets to arrive.

“Surely it can’t be this bad all the time,” Kal said. “Otherwise you would have fallen a long time ago.”

“Most nights it’s this bad but the days are generally quiet,” Gerin said. “They can see well in the dark. But that doesn’t matter when we can see too.”

Verona sighed. “I can barely see anything.”

Kal held her shoulder and chanted a prayer to allow her to see clearly at night. Verona blinked furiously to adjust to the new light level before winking at Kal.

The Dark Elf guards surrounding the largest of the tents, Kal presumed it to be the command post, twitched alert as they approached.

“Lord Gerin.” A warrior waved warmly. “Lord Vonkal is in the command tent if you wish to see him.”

“Thank you.” Gerin brought them to a halt just before him. The Jaguars were so close their steamy breath brushed against the nervous guard. “How bad are things here? It’s been a while since I’ve been to the front.”

“Not good.” The guard sighed, taking a step back from the beast. “Vonkal will be able to tell you more.”

Kal saw the blue and purple tassel attached to his neck. She didn’t know which clan this belonged to either.

Gerin and the other DuskReavers were allowed into the camp. The rest of the warriors were shown to a stable, of sorts, while Gerin, Ceccitol, Tuccac, Verona and Kal were directed to the larger tent. Unlike the Elder’s chamber, this place reeked of life and activity, though tainted by the presence of war. Dark Elves ran about, arguing and bickering over details on a giant map of the north of the Shadow Isles. Commanders spoke in rapid hushed whispers, pointing to the map to demonstrate avenues of attack. Servants moved between the groups with small plates of food and water. No one gave the servants a look of derision or hostility, they were treated as an equal part.

At least these people don’t smell of death. Thank Tethra that human’s and Dark Elf noses aren’t as good as mine.

“Gerin, you lovable bastard.” A Dark Elf, perhaps a little younger than Gerin, turned away from the map and smiled. “And I thought I would have to deal with all of this myself.”

Gerin shook his hand firmly. “If only we were so lucky. But we’re here now. You know of my daughter’s vision? It turned out to be true.”

“And how is little Ceccitol now?” Vonkal laughed, Ceccitol hugged the man. “I haven’t seen you since your wedding. Last I heard you were pregnant again.”

Ceccitol laughed, patting his back to tell him to let go, something Tuccac was eager to see. “That was a long time ago. But they are doing well. All three of my children are.”

“Three? Well, haven’t you two been busy.”

Tuccac kept his face flat but Kal saw the faintest hint of pride underneath his calm exterior.

“And who are these two?” Vonkal raised a black brow. “I haven’t seen a human in a long time. And...” Vonkal focused hard on Kal’s eyes. Kal recoiled slightly underneath the stare, it wasn’t a pleasant one, one that even Verona recognised.

“These are the help that my daughter saw in her vision.” Gerin frowned lightly. “At least some of them. It’s…Complicated.”

“I see.” Vonkal approached Kal, reaching out to touch her ears. “Are these real?”

“They are.” Kal’s heart turned to ice, the Dark Elf flinched at her stare. “And they’re not for you to touch.”

“Please restrain yourself, Vonkal.” Gerin tried to laugh things off. “He is somewhat of an eccentric but he is an excellent warrior and leader.”

“Not that great,” Verona grumbled. “It should be common knowledge that you just don’t touch someone without their permission.”

Vonkal was completely and utterly unfazed by Verona’s words. Kal made a note to keep an eye on him and anyone from his clan, just in case.

“Our introductions have been a little muddled up,” Gerin said. “Vonkal is the Clan leader of the Wind Runners. A fellow Island Clan.”

Vonkal snapped his fingers and ran to the large map. Three of the small northern islands had been completely marked red while another had the beginning of an infection of Goblins. He pointed to the island clockwise of the three infested lands.

“We’re here.” Vonkal seemed strangely happy. “No land bridge, so there’s that. But I think just about every warrior is on the front. Just like yours, right Gerin?”

Gerin grunted. “Yes…But with their help, many will survive. So keep your hands to yourself.”

Vonkal laughed as he gripped his hands tightly behind his back. Kal hated the warm smile on his face, it reeked of insincerity. She wished that Anton was here. If he’d tried to touch her he’d probably be writhing in pain from a lightning strike. Perhaps lying flat on the ground too…

“So what do you want us to do?” Verona asked, folding her arms. “I can hear the battle still going on outside.”

“It’s been like this for the past few days.” Vonkal sighed. He tapped the Green Moon Clan’s island, completely stained with red. “A lot have been coming from there. Most of the Green Moon weren’t able to evacuate, unlike the Red Wave and the Crescents Clans. So…” He shrugged as a female warrior whispered in his ears. “I think we all know what that means.”

Kal had no intention of witnessing a woman bloated with Goblin babies. The very thought that something so horrible could gestate inside her disgusted her with every fibre of her being. Anton and Verona didn’t talk about Mount Aspire.

“Thank you.” Vonkal nodded to the female warrior. She returned the bow but remained at his side. “My adjutant has just informed me that we have located a group of Goblins, behind the main force, that appear to be directing this attack. However…These seem different.”

“Awakened?” Verona asked.

“I don’t know what that is. But these have black skin.” Vonkal scratched his ear. “We’ve only spotted them because their iron armour reflected against the light. Most Goblins are essentially naked, so…”

“You’ve only come across the Greens and Yellows?” Verona asked.

“Then you’ve had it very easy.” Kal sighed. “No Blacks, Oranges, Purples or Reds.”

Not that we really know what the Reds’ do.

“I was not aware they had so many variants.” Vonkal glanced at his adjutant. “I thought they were large Yellows wearing mud or some sort of camouflage.” He held his chin in deep thought. “That would explain why they’ve been able to coordinate so well during the night. We simply haven’t seen them before.”

I’m sure Anton would say something about this.

“If we take out these Black Goblin Commanders will that be a start?” Verona asked, turning to Kal. “Otherwise it’ll just be you healing people until Anton gets here. No chance to show off your fancy arrows either.”

“I think I’ll stick to the lightning ones.” Kal detached her quiver and sifted through the arrows. “I might need some more soon.”

“We have thousands.” Gerin shrugged. “I’m sure you could borrow some.”

“I don’t know how much you understand about the Goblins-”

“Very little.” Vonkal sighed. “I’m afraid.”

“-You need to know that they arrange themselves based on colour. The Greens are at the bottom, then the Yellows then the Blacks. I don’t know where the others fit in exactly. But if they are being directed by the Black Goblins then killing them will cause the rest to break…” Kal frowned. “Unless there’s an Awakened with them.”

“I’d think they’d know.” Verona shrugged. “The ones we’ve seen aren’t the type to sit back and just watch. Like Fort Acidava. They were a tricky bunch.”

Memories of the Orange and Purple Goblins in the tight confines of the corridors of Fort Acidava came flooding back.

“No Demons,” Kal mumbled. “Thankfully.”

“If killing the Black Goblins would break their assault then we’d be extremely grateful.” Vonkal bowed his head. “Even a single day would give our warriors much-needed rest.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Gerin said. “We’ll take our warriors and assist them. Do you have their location?”

“They’re on a small hill overlooking our lines.” The Adjutant said calmly. “However they are well beyond the range of our archers or mages. And the areas swarming with Goblins and probably traps.”

“I’d forgotten they could use those.” Verona scrunched her eyes tight.

The Adjutant solemnly nodded. “Many of our warriors have received grievous injuries from their hidden stakes.”

“If they were covered in faeces then that’s beyond what a Green or Yellow would be capable of.” Kal mused. “Perhaps a Black Goblin would be smart enough.”

“If Anton was here he could light up the forest,” Verona said. “Or have a fireball over our heads to illuminate everything.” Verona shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I can see perfectly in the darkness right now. So we’ll lead and take them out.”

“The Goblin traps will be crude but well hidden.” The Adjutant said. “But given enough practice, as we have, they are easy to spot. Most of the time.”

“Perfect.” Vonkal clapped his hands. He pushed the Adjutant forward. “Then you can go with them.”

“Me?” A bead of sweat ran down her face. “But, but I’m needed here. Organising reports and ensuring logistics-”

“We’ll be fine.” Vonkal smiled, patting her shoulder and pushing her forward again. “You’ve been complaining your deeds aren’t being recognised to the warriors while you’re drunk. Right? Well, now’s your chance.”

“I…” The Adjutant looked at him in fear, genuine fear, before resigning herself to her fate. “I understand.”

“Excellent. Please take care of her. Salvira is a daughter of one of my more important commanders. I’d hate for something to happen to her right when the DuskReavers finally arrive at my section of the front.” Vonkal pouted, something felt wrong by a grown man playing pretend like that. “It wouldn’t look good for any of us.”

What’s behind this? Is he just trying to get rid of an annoying subordinate? He didn’t know about us…He might have but he wouldn’t know about our abilities, we’ve barely spoken about them ourselves. We should be careful. Maybe we should ask her a few questions later. No, before we go. Just to be safe.

Salvira trudged to their side, her head hanging as low as the expression on her face. She looked like most of the other Dark Elves; dark skin, long ears and perfectly straight black hair. Up close she lacked the high cheekbones of most of the Dark Elf women but also their curves. Her chest armour was perfectly flat and so too were her hips, Kal could see a small rear but that was it. For some reason it made Kal feel better about her own.

“Can you handle a bow?” Ceccitol asked.

“I can,” Salvira replied, forcing herself to appear confident. “I may not be the best shot but I won’t abandon my position.”

No one asked you that part.

Vonkal silently agreed with Kal’s thoughts. Perhaps it was an annoying subordinate.

Gerin patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Can you lead this assault? I need to speak with Vonkal.”

“Of course father. We will return safely.”

“If you can’t get to them retreat. There’s nothing to be gained with a heroic sacrifice.”

Ceccitol hugged her father as Tuccac turned to Salvira.

“Get your bow, arrows and meet us outside,” Tuccac said. “You shouldn’t be doing much fighting, that’ll be left to the human and Beast-kin. You just need to make sure we don’t run into any traps.”

“R-Right.” Salvira’s fingers flexed. “I’ll, I’ll go get those.”

She almost spun in one place before darting out the rear of the tent. Verona shot Kal a look, she wasn’t too confident about this Dark Elf either, but they had little choice. Alliances between independent forces, even between the same species when their existence was at stake could produce some oddities.

“We should prepare as well,” Tuccac said. “I’m sure the ladies need to get ready themselves.”

“I await news of your victory.” Vonkal bowed his head before turning back to the map. He didn’t look towards them again, they had completely fallen away from his mind.

Verona chuckled as they left the tent. “I’ll need to borrow some more blood. Kal? Can I borrow your hand for a moment?”

---[]---

Kal stood at the edge of the camp, watching the constant battle unfold in the field of light. The Dark Elves never attempted to leave the relative safety of the light while the Goblins attacked with total disregard for their own lives. At least that wasn’t too different from their normal behaviour, at least when the Greens and Yellows were under the command of a higher ranked Goblin. Every so often a Goblin would get lucky and score a hit. Most were light wounds but she witnessed an attack that was clearly fatal, no one could survive an iron-tipped spear through the throat. Her heart grew troubled as the Dark Elves rushed forward to their fallen comrade, fighting off the Goblins before retrieving the body. But this was just a small section of the defensive line. And replacing a Goblin was far easier than a Dark Elf.

“Can you see them?” Verona asked, resting on a large empty crate. “With this eye enchantment thing, I can see them on those hills. There’s a lot more than they said.”

“I count fifty.”

“This all seems very strange,” Verona grumbled.

“Not if there’s an Awakened leading them,” Kal replied. “Remember Fort Acidava? They dug that huge pit for us.”

“Verona! Kal!” Ceccitol yelled from behind. She rode her Jaguar Mount and held the reins of their mounts, they certainly didn’t appreciate being in such close contact. “Are you both ready to go?”

“Sure.” Verona flashed her power, the red tattoos covering half of her body glowed bright. “I’ve got enough blood, and I’ll pick up the rest out there.”

“We just need to have a chat with this new Dark Elf,” Kal said. “We don’t know her and since we’ll probably be at the front…”

“I understand,” Ceccitol said. “Doing something foolish like that wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility for the Dark Elves. Salvira shouldn’t be too far away.”

“I’m here.” Salvira approached with Tuccac beside. Both rode Jaguar Mounts but Salvira’s was slightly larger and had a red sheen to its otherwise black coat. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to ride this guy.”

She rubbed the giant cat’s neck. Its face remained unmoving.

“Well…” Verona glanced at Kal. “I can see something wrong already.”

“What?”

“You don’t have any arrows,” Kal said flatly, slowly shaking her head.

Salvira’s hands grasped at empty air. Her face drained of colour as her head darted about.

“No.” Salvira whimpered. “Not again. This is why I wanted to stay in the command tent.”

“You forget your arrows but you can still organise logistics and troop movements?” Verona asked, gently approaching her Jaguar.

“It’s the fighting,” Salvira admitted. “The noise…I always lock up and freeze when I hear it.”

“Even in a warrior’s society?” Kal asked, taking the reins for her mount. Hers looked slightly annoyed that it would have to be running again.

“Yes.” A dark elf presented Salvira with a quiver of black feathered arrows. “Thank you. I was in this position before the Goblins became a threat. And I can’t just leave.”

“I guess so.” Kal deftly mounted her Jaguar. “But Vonkal seemed very glad to send you out.”

Salvira looked down and refused to answer.

“Another time.” Ceccitol nodded to the battle lines. “Every moment we waste is another dead Dark Elf.”

Tuccac and the majority of the DuskReaver mounts arrived.

“Salvira.” Kal caught the nervous Dark Elf’s attention. “Tell us where there are likely to be traps and ambushes. So stay near the middle.”

Her breathing calmed, the grip on the reins relaxed somewhat. Ceccitol didn’t have to speak a word and signalled for the Dark Elves to charge. They silently rode out of the camp and into the illuminated fields. The fighting Dark Elf warriors saw the large group of riders and parted, a few smiled and waved. The Goblins, still attacking in unrelenting waves, tilted their heads at the column of Jaguars charging towards their lines. Some brave Goblins attempted to hold them, holding their small wooden spears but without armour, they were easy prey for the Dark Elf arrows.

“There’s a trap!” Salvira pointed between two large trees.

To Kal’s eye, the ground looked wrong, the leaves had been deliberately moved in a poor attempt to hide something. Ceccitol signalled for the group to turn away. Verona threw a blood shard as they passed. A thin layer of branches and leaves into a deep pit bristling with dirty and wet stakes. No one said a word and continued forward.

“Where are these things?” Tuccac asked.

The Black Goblins did blend into the black inky surroundings but they weren’t completely invisible. Bright iron patches reflected the dim light of the stars perfectly.

“I could take out most with one of these.” Kal drew a lightning arrow. This one, just like the one from Jaka, had taken most of her mana but it would undoubtedly kill almost every Goblin on the small hill.

“Fire as soon as you are able,” Ceccitol yelled back. “They’re getting quite thick here.”

The Goblins emerged from the bushes and trees, screeching frantically as they threw themselves upon the Dark Elves. While they weren’t able to strike the rapidly moving Jaguar mounts their numbers continued to grow. Wherever Kal looked all she could see were more and more Goblins. Far too many Goblins.

They could just charge in at once and overwhelm the front. So why aren’t they? What are we missing?

“Go right,” Ceccitol ordered.

She directed them towards a thinner patch of Goblins. Something tingled up Kal’s spine.

“No!” Salvira yelled. “Go straight! There’s a giant pitfall trap that way.”

Kal couldn’t see it but the Goblins were directing them slightly away from the hill. Ceccitol took a second glance at Salvira and ordered everyone forward. The Dark Elves released a flurry of arrows, knocking the Goblins down like wheat, but there were simply too many. With tooth and claw, the Jaguars crashed into the Goblin lines. Their hides were no match for claws larger than hands, the Goblin resistance simply evaporated before them.

“I think I can get them from here,” Kal yelled.

Ceccitol brought everyone to a halt, everyone wordlessly formed a tight perimeter and began to fire at the attacking Goblins. Compared to the fields of torches these came in great waves, far too many for the Dark Elves to reasonably handle.

Kal drew back her bow and whispered a prayer to guide the arrow. As she loosed something felt off. The arrow soared through the air, crashing into the massed group of Black Goblins in a shower of lightning and sparks. Every Black Goblin fell but the assault continued with even greater intensity. Something was very wrong.

“Maybe they do have an Awakened here.” Verona shrugged.

She threw the shards into the charging Goblins, each cut allowed her to control more and more blood. The shards multiplied and formed a spinning circle around them. The Dark elves lowered their bows, every Goblin that touched the shards was ripped into a thousand pieces before adding its own blood to the swirling defence.

Something bothered Kal. Though they could call this foray a success the Goblins had yet to give up the attack.

“When the Red died they kept on coming.” Kal murmured.

“Are you serious?” Verona kept her arm outstretched, barely taking a glance back at Kal. “If that’s true we need to retreat.”

“But you’re killing so many.” Tuccac raised a black brow. “I-”

His head snapped up. A Green Goblin dropped onto his head. The small stone blade stabbed at his neck but he grabbed its arm before it could do any damage. He snapped the Goblins neck and tossed it aside, holding the small wound shut.

The trees above them rattled and shook. Greens and Yellows clambered up the rough bark, some slipped free but the tree’s bark pulsed and surged upwards with Goblin hides.

“Retreat!” Ceccitol yelled. No one defied her order.

Verona threw the shards up to form a swirling mass over their heads. Un-phased by the change the Goblins leapt towards them. Tiny chunks of Goblins splattered over them, Verona held her head down and covered her face. Without the blood shards at ground level, the Goblins could attack once again. The Jaguar’s speed and strength were too great to overcome, even though Kal saw many running with a decided limp to their stride. As the returned to the field of lights the Goblin attacks lessened and were picked off by the Dark Elf warriors roaming the field. They continued running until they reached the safety of the tents.

“What happened there?” Ceccitol asked. “You said the Goblins would break if we killed their leaders.”

“Normally they would.” Kal dismounted, gently rubbing the Jaguar’s neck, something it appreciated. “But if there’s a higher ranked Goblin nearby-”

“Or we simply didn’t get them all,” Verona added. She relinquished control of most of her blood, letting it splash onto the dry dark grass. “You all saw how many I just killed, right? Probably over a thousand. Maybe. I think for our first day we did alright.”

“And we didn’t fall into any pits.”

“Thank Stratos.” Salvira whimpered lightly. “I didn’t expect this when my husband got me this easy position.”

“Really…” Verona frowned ever so slightly.

Kal kept herself from rolling her eyes. To be judging someone so soon after meeting them…

“Get the Jaguar’s to their stables,” Ceccitol ordered. “And tend to their wounds. Kal? Could you please help? We need them all in top fighting condition.”

“Certainly. Tethra’s power works on animals too. I’ll need some mana vials if you have any.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Verona asked, manoeuvring her mount closer as the others left. “Are we going to attack in the morning?”

“We try to push forward then.” Salvira began. “But there are so many Goblins that everyone’s tires before we can take any land. And we go through arrows like crazy.” A wistful set of eyes turn to the command tent. “So many…” She sighed loudly. “I want my old job back.”

“Maybe Vonkal can.” Verona chuckled. “I think Kal knows what to look for now.”

“That would be so nice.” Salvira smiled. “If he’d actually let me.” Her black brows furrowed lightly. “His mood changes so quickly.”

Kal found her hand reaching for her ear. “A few thousand dead Goblins is a good start. I’ll give your best archers my enchanted arrows. Better that they kill something than just stay in my quiver.”

Ceccitol nodded. “After you’ve healed the Jaguar’s could you meet us back in the command tent? We need to plan, properly this time.”

“I think we did alright for our first assault.” Verona shrugged. “We ran in, killed our targets and when that didn’t work we ran back out. And no one’s dead. I’d consider that a win.”

“Until we can get Anton,” Kal began. “And his magic, mainly his summons, we should focus on keeping the Dark Elves alive. I’ll spend most of my magic healing the wounded while Verona uses her magic to cut down their numbers so you can push forward a little.”

“That might be enough.” Ceccitol smiled. “The attacks have thinned somewhat already. If nothing else the Dark Elves will be indebted to the Beast-kin. I don’t think something like that’s happened in a long time.”

“How many did you think I killed anyway?” Verona asked with a sly smile. “Honestly?”

Kal didn’t want to stroke her ego too much as looked towards the small hill and enhanced her sight. Amongst the Black Goblin corpses, something moved, shining red against the faint light of the stars. A Red Goblin, with a diminutive twisted left arm, overlooked the field. Its eerily human face showed no emotion, no annoyance or elation at the progression of the battle. It eyes flicked up, almost causing Kal to gasp. The Red turned its attention to the main camp, again with zero emotion. Behind it, a Black Goblin emerged. It looked more similar to an Orc than a Goblin, in size and stature. In one hand it held a large white mace, a small green shield in the other. Kal waved her hand frantically for Verona’s shoulder.

“Where?” Verona asked, bringing her Jaguar alongside hers.

Kal gave Verona the same eye enhancement and pointed to the Goblin pair. Verona groaned.

“Fuck.”

The Red Goblin said something to the giant Black Goblin, waving its good hand across the field. The Black stared at him unblinking. Eventually, the Red waved dismissively and retreated from sight. Kal relinquished her hold on Verona and her own enhancement.

“What’s happening?” Ceccitol asked aloud. “Is this what you meant by breaking?”

The battlefield quickly fell silent. Dark Elves stood stunned as the Goblins slinked back to the forest, clearly resisting something pulling them back from the fight, but obeyed nonetheless. A few Dark Elves fired trailing shots before becoming lost and confused. Slowly they retreated to the final line, none knowing what had just transpired.

“No.” Kal bared her teeth. “No, it doesn’t.” Kal removed her helmet and ran her hand through her hair. “If only Duchess Belinda hadn’t turned up until spring.”

Chapter 133 - Vol 4 - Maxill & Gresir

Chapter 132:

Maxill brought relief to Anton’s heart. Though there were no further attacks his nerves never truly settled, undoubtedly a positive but his mind was tired and exhausted. So too was Cetina’s. She put up a brave and tough front, something she appeared all too familiar with, but the cracks were showing. They hadn’t spoken more about her additional duties and she had made no effort to bring it up.

I wonder how this chat is going to go? Verona’s probably going to say something that’s going to warp my view, like last time. Not that I don’t dislike what happened in the end. I love both of them.

He glanced to Cetina riding next to him.

I mean, she’s pretty in a tomboyish way. And I think we’re good friends at the very least…I mean I think she was about to offer her ‘service’ just before the bandits attacked again. Would I have actually agreed?

“Is something wrong, Anton?” Cetina leant forward, tilting her head slightly.

She, like everyone else, was somewhat dirty from their week-long journey through the forest. Yet she had a charm to her that was unmistakably alluring. Her grey purple flecked eye stared into his own for an answer.

“I’m fine.” Anton smiled. “I’m just glad to see the city.”

“Me too.” Conrad, a horse behind, loudly stretched his shoulder. “We won’t be getting a bath but a simple wash would be great.”

Maxill, once a decrepit and rotting frontier town now bustled with life. The wooden walls had expanded once again in height and diameter. If anything they looked stronger than Atros’s walls, though not once the Dwarves got their hands onto Atros’s infrastructure. Lumber yards and grain fields had expanded greatly too, hundreds of people moved throughout as a large number of Qaiviel guards, white and green armour, patrolled the perimeter watching the forest. A whistle echoed throughout the fields, the guards snapping alert towards the forest.

“How did those bandits get past Maxill?” Anton asked. “I presume they just went a few miles up and entered the forest.”

Conrad shrugged. “Probably. Belinda has a very large and uninhabited territory. Perfect for bandits, and for Bandits to slink through unnoticed.”

“True…”

Anton spotted a familiar face amongst the gate guards, the same man he had met the first time visiting the city. This time he wasn’t extorting money from travellers. He and the others were certainly better paid. Doubly so if the value of their shiny, new equipment wasn’t cut from their pay. Upon reaching the first crossroads, now bustling with life and trade, Conrad stopped the mercenaries with a simple raise of his hand.

“This is as far as we were instructed to go,” Conrad said. “We’ll have to wait for further orders.”

“Are you just going to run?” Anton asked. “I don’t think they’ll let you go after siding with the Duchess. Even if you are mercenaries.”

Conrad laughed. “Only that we’re out of orders, not pay. Alfred has paid us enough to last us some time until next summer. We can’t run now. If we do no one is ever going to hire us again.”

“Finally.” Belinda stepped out of the carriage, a mercenary rushed to her side but was gently waved aside. “Forgive me for saying this Anton but I never wish to cross that forest again.”

“So what happens now?” Anton asked. “Do we head straight for the Black Rider Fortress?”

“First I need to hear if what has been happening here.” Belinda began walking towards her mansion. “There’s no point in going further if the enemy is at our door, correct?”

If it is we’re in a lot of trouble.

Anton and the convoy followed Belinda through the streets. She was confident to walk without any significant guard, though it was clear they were with her. Not many people gave her anything more than a passing nod but a few smiled and waved. So much had changed in such little time. Once inside the inner ring of Maxill, it was clear not everything had. The upper class of Maxill, a strangely snobbish group despite being in such a rural and remote region, still dressed extravagantly, perhaps even more so than before. Since they owned significant tracts of land they benefited from Belinda’s new regime and looked the part. Anton ignored them. Cetina paid a momentary glance, tilted her head in confusion before shrugging and moving on.

Tents and rudimentary stables now covered the once immaculate lawn, several hundred moderately armed soldiers walked amongst them. Each was very well equipped, better than the guards of Atros, with thick gambeson interlaced with thick metal plates, but were very nervous. Some were very young. A White Dog Mercenary led the training of soldiers, barking words of derision and encouragement in equal order.

“Things are going well.” Belinda nodded confidently. “Our forces are nearly ready.”

“Is this everyone you can muster?” Anton asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Belinda sighed. “I’m afraid so. So long as we don’t want to deplete our people and ruin our economy. At least that’s what Alfred said.”

“I’m glad that you’re listening to his words now.”

“Indeed…Indeed.” Duchess Belinda’s eyes travelled to a group of idle soldiers. “Hemiskr! Is everyone ready?”

I remember the name. One of the guards that served under Belinda’s father, who watched everything fall apart and wouldn’t move against her for the love and respect of her father. I hope things are going better now.

Hemiskr approached, the bearded man saluted. “We are ready to leave at a moment’s notice, Duchess. You only need to give the word.”

“How has the war progressed since my departure?”

“From what we’ve heard from traders The Church of the Holy Father is still assaulting the Black Rider Fortress. I don’t know what’s happening with the Royal Army. Haven’t heard anything from them. Knights from the Blue Firestorm, Grey Dawn & White Lightning have joined Prince-King Leo. As for the other Knight Orders…I don’t know. I think they’re confused or waiting until a winner has been decided.”

“While it annoys me I understand their reluctance.” Belinda sighed. “Join the losing side. Prepare my proper carriage as well. I’ll be glad to be rid of that thing. And give Anton our mana potions.”

“Of course, Duchess Belinda.” Hemiskr bowed, gave a slight smile to Anton and left.

Belinda turned to look over the practising soldiers. A white-gloved finger tapped over her elbow. “I, personally, wish to return to Castle Étoile with all haste. But there is something that needs to be dealt with first.”

“Have the Princes overtaken some of your towns?” Anton asked. “My abilities tend to set wood on fire. And I know that you don’t want charred remains when I’m done.”

“Your lightning surely wouldn’t.” Belinda nodded towards the forest edge. “I know that wasn’t caused by lightning.”

The forest edge had yet to completely recover from Anton’s magic during the Clansmen and Orc invasion. Not surprising given how much power he unleashed. Still, they were making a slow but steady recovery.

“But it is a town.”

“Yes.” Belinda gently waved to a waiting maid, neither he nor Cetina noticed her approach. In her arms she held a large roll of paper, a map, which she unfurled and held outstretched. “This town here has rebelled from my control.” Belinda shrugged lightly. “Not surprising considering it has the only church this side of Castle Étoile. And quite a large one at that.”

“Lucky for you they are all concentrated on the western half of the Kingdom,” Cetina noted.

“Not entirely so.” Belinda pointed to the largest city on the map. “The capital, Clausonne, has many church towns surrounding it and to the west. Those will all be teeming with the enemy.”

Anton found Castle Étoile situated very close to the capital. “That doesn’t bode well for us. Far too close. And where is this Royal Army stationed?”

“Alfred would know more but I’m certain it’s supposed to in this castle just to the north of Clausonne. They have more than enough numbers to take Étoile. The fact they aren’t moving for or against us is worrying.”

“The commanders might have been loyal to King Lambert, was that his name? And having two of his sons, his killers, ordering them around probably doesn’t sit right with them. Any chance for messengers to reach them?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Belinda shrugged. “I’m no commander. So while they handle that I decided to get your help.”

“If they’re gutted from the inside that’ll make things a lot easier for us.”

“The agreement will stand regardless,” Belinda added quickly.

“Thank you. Now, I’ve brought us off track, where is this problem city.”

Belinda pointed to a city to the south-west of hers. Maxill was nothing more than a tiny dot and plain writing. Gresir, however, had a level of flair to its writing. So too was Nonbur’n, nestled beneath the Knight Order Fortresses at the border of the Deweth Clansmen territory. Though unspoken it was a larger and more important town than Maxill.

“Gresir is under a day’s ride from Maxill.” Belinda began. “But we need to capture it, otherwise I won’t have much of a home to return to.”

“And opening attacks to the rear,” Cetina added. Belinda nodded solemnly.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Anton said. “So long as they don’t have any Principle Mages.”

---[]---

Anton’s nose recoiled at the smell of burning flesh, his eyes stung from the smoke mixing with the late afternoon sun. The defenders of Gresir put up a valiant defence, mostly militia-style forces at best, but it was utterly pointless in the face of Anton’s magic. He felt quite sad for them. Not every of the four thousand soldiers thrown against them were fanatics. Most looked like farmers and serfs pressed into service. Such a horrible fate. He spared those he could but…

“I wish there was another way.” Anton mused.

A hand patted his shoulder roughly. Conrad smiled apologetically.

“You tried your best. I would have surrendered when I saw that magic.” Conrad sighed, shaking his head at a fallen Church soldier. “But in war, the good and innocent die in droves.”

Corpses filled the streets of Gresir, already pushed to one side by Belinda’s forces and being readied for burial. Most had been killed by lightning, from several Lightning rings and Lightning Crows. The few archers they possessed were not enough to down a single crow and had annihilated them utterly.

“Is anyone still resisting?” Anton asked. A wooden window creaked open, terrified eyes peered from the shadows.

“Just at the Church,” Conrad said. “Didn’t get the message it seems.”

Anton directed his summons, some six Fire Imps and ten Lightning Crows, towards the Church of Gresir. It bore striking similarities to the Church they had seen in Graterious but this lacked the ostentatious golden ornamentation. Nevertheless, it was clearly an impressive structure designed to demonstrate power and intimidate unbelievers. At least those that had never been to a large city before, like the vast majority of the people of Gresir.

Cetina moved in front of Anton. So far she hadn’t even needed to swing her sword, or even use her shield. After Anton’s magic had destroyed the bulk of the enemy Belinda’s archers mopped up the defenders. Very few swords ran red with blood but she wasn’t willing to let her guard down just yet. The incident with the Goblin sling played on her mind.

Through the smouldering remains of overturned market stalls and impromptu barricades, they arrived at the church. A large barricade surrounded the front door, simply random pieces of wood and carts thrown together to form a remarkable thick and sturdy defence. Eyes darted back and forth through the smoky haze. Their attention was clearly focused on the several hundred soldiers surrounding the church. Though the battle was all but over the White Dog mercenaries had to stress the importance of keeping one’s shield raised to the recruits. Several wounded men, not critically thankfully, were a testament to that ethos.

Hemiskr, hiding behind a small wall of soldiers, waved them over.

“They won’t listen to a damn thing we say.” Hemiskr’s voice was rough and harsh, he coughed harshly before waving awake the thick coils of smoke. “I know they’re in there. But they aren’t saying if they’re going to surrender or keep fighting. Do we charge in or burn it down?”

“Wooden rooves?”

“Yes. They only have people outside on the front. We could easily sneak around the other side. Smash a window and get in that way.”

“I’d rather not. Especially if it gives our opposition the ability to rally more people to their cause.” Anton received a nod from Castor. “Let’s try it the old fashioned way first.”

Anton directed the Fire Imps to approach the barricade while half the Lightning Crows to hover over their heads. The remaining half rested on the nearby buildings, out of range of potential magical attacks. He knew how dangerous Principle Mages were to his summons.

“Surrender!” Anton yelled. “There is no point in further resistance. Though it pains me I will burn down this Church if you do not surrender immediately.”

Obscured eyes darted about even more frantically, Anton was all but certain they were honestly discussing their future. The door slowly opened. Screams emanated as splashes of blood soaked the wooden barricade and dripped onto the ground.

“On alert,” Conrad ordered. The soldiers backed away slightly before planting their shields into the ground, the archers knocked their bows.

The screams stopped suddenly. Something new walked behind the barricades. Anton’s bound tail tingled ever so slightly as a faint purple hue cast over the broken bodies and rivulets of blood.

“Conrad?” Anton pulled his summons back.

“No idea.” Conrad frowned, holding his sword tight. “Actually Alfred mentioned something before we left. You don’t happen to know of something called Stitch Soldiers do you?”

“Only what Duchess Belinda told me.”

The barricade creaked and began to fall away.

“I think we’re about to find out.”

With a near silent push, the barricade collapsed, spilling onto the ground. Church soldier corpses lay strewn over the ground and the wood, broken and twisted in horrific parodies of life, some embedded into the barricade ruins. Now twenty people stood before the church door. They wore better armour than the Church soldiers, akin to the first set of leather armour Anton had been given and wielded small iron shields and maces. Despite the relatively poor armour its helmet was surprisingly good; a fully encompassing metal helm that hid all features.

A mercenary archer loosed a single arrow. It sunk through the leather armour but the soldier didn’t flinch.

Anton felt Cetina tense as the soldier slowly looked down and rip the arrow free. The arrow’s head was completely devoid of blood, only a viscous black and purple liquid.

“It’s not them, Cetina.” Anton tapped her shoulder. “This isn’t what happened before.”

“I…” Cetina scrunched her eye and nodded. “Okay.”

The soldier tossed the arrow aside, clanking onto the stone and landing in the blood.

“Let’s not find out,” Anton mumbled.

He stood to the side of the line of soldiers and loosed a fire lance. The beam of fire struck the strange soldiers and showered everything in a bathing red flame. Anton knew that something was wrong. Just like the Awakened Goblin in Fort Acidava and the Thumpers to the south of Atros, his magic had been interfered with. Not suppressed or cancelled, but weakened.

As the fires died away the strange soldier remained standing; he swayed from side to side, his shield had completely melted to his arm, every part of his clothing and armour, barring his helmet, had evaporated underneath the heat. For a moment Anton wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. Their emaciated skin was pale and covered in dozens of deep scars, crudely sewn together with a thick black thread. A purple hue leaked through the wounds, pulsing like a heartbeat. Stitch Soldier was an apt name.

“So they are real,” Conrad whispered. His eyes darted frantically to the archers. “Fire everything you have!”

Anton directed all his summons to attack. The creatures skittered towards the Stitch soldiers who ran to meet them. Despite their emaciated state, they moved far faster than any human. Arrows peppered their bodies as the Fire Imps met their legs. Two were struck with the first swings of the maces, instantly disintegrating and fading from Anton’s control, but the Stitch Soldiers left themselves open. With both hands holding the small flaming sword tight the Flame Imp’s cut through the weak leg armour. Those Stitch Soldiers fell forward, allowing those behind to crush the Fire Imps with a single blow. Whatever these things were they had no compassion for one another and continued their charge unabated. The four that had fallen grasped their legs tight and held them against their wounds. A slight grunt escaped their lips, the first sound from these creatures, and re-joined the charge with their legs reattached, ignoring any form of pain or the cauterized flesh.

So damn close to those zombie puppets in Porswea. And with regeneration and magic resistance. They hit on a gold mine with this, whatever this is.

Anton threw as much magic as he could; lightning and fire melded around each other as they struck the running soldiers. The first Stitch soldier fell, his chest blown to smithereens by a fire lance followed by a lightning bomb. His elation was short-lived. A surge flowed up his tail, almost as great as the dead Red Goblin.

Just going to have to tough this one out.

The next Stitch soldier fell, this time to a hailstorm of bolts striking its head and chest. Again Anton felt the surge travel up his tail. If it reached his spine…

Anton summoned a lightning and flame Octahedron and threw them at their feet. Two disintegrated in flashes of light while the remaining staggered back from the force. It was enough to buy them a little time. Anton directed all of his summons to attack the Stitch Soldiers still obscured by the dust and smoke. They barely registered the strike, not even a dull groan as lightning surged through their bodies.

“Stay together and fall back,” Conrad ordered. “Keep the archers at the rear.”

The White Dog mercenaries managed to enforce a steady retreat but the Stitch Soldiers were unrelenting. Out of the smoke they erupted, bearing their maces down on the unfortunate recruits. The sickening sound of cracking and breaking limbs filled the air. A stitch soldier bore down on a lone recruit, with nothing more than a simple shield and sword to defend himself. The mace bit deep into the iron, bending and warping the metal, before sending it into the man’s chest. Even with his arm broken he desperately tried to stab with his short sword. It found a gap in the shoulder armour and dug deep but the Stitch Soldier made no visible sign it was even aware of its injury. An arrow struck it’s helmet as it ripped its mace up, pulling the shield free, and struck again. The shield landed flat on his head, crushing it instantly and breaking the rest of his upper chest. Without missing a beat the Stitch Soldier looked up and continued to attack without attempting to fix its weapon. Five mercenaries and two archers descended upon the Stitch Soldier and hacked it to pieces, dogging wild swings and taking every opening. The soldier didn’t groan or scream as its arms were cut off. It tried to kick and connected with a leg, breaking it in one hit. The recruit screamed in pain as he fell but a purple stained blade cleaved underneath its helm and sent the head flying. Much to their relief, the Stitch Soldier collapsed silent and limp. The wounded recruit was dragged away as another two Stitch Soldiers tried to attack them.

Anton, with Cetina standing to his side at the ready, threw a fire and lightning lance at the two Stitch Soldier’s heads. The metal exploded but the Stitch Soldiers continued to charge at their retreating forces. Anton fired again and felled the creatures. Another surge raced up his tail, about a quarter was now filled already, but he pushed it away.

Cetina’s eye snapped to a figure moving through a particularly thick cloud of smoke just beside them. At first, Anton thought it was one of theirs but its missing limb told him otherwise. Cetina patted his shoulder and engaged the wounded Stitch Soldier. She raised her shield and charge, the Stitch Soldier raised his mace and swung down hard. The shield, gifted from Graterious and buckled and twisted but Cetina directed the thrust’s strength, and her shield into the ground, leaving the one-armed soldier vulnerable to a counter attack. Her sword dug deep into its neck before she kicked it away. The Stitch Soldier thudded onto the ground, the mace clanged away but it quickly began to rise back up. Cetina’s stance changed, turning relaxed as her shoulders drooped. The Stitch Soldier growled and swung its fist at Cetina. She remained stationary until the last moment, allowing the powerful fist to slide just beside her face. Her sword cut cleanly through its neck and spun the shambling corpse away. With the Stitch Soldier down she quickly returned to his side. He caught a look at her eye; devoid of any emotion or even life. A blink later and it returned. Her eye even flickered about, as if she didn’t know what happened, and resumed her stance.

Within a minute the last three Stitch Soldiers tried to attack Anton. He responded with Lances to their heads, followed up by smaller Lightning bombs. When their bodies fell limp a stillness fell over the field. The groans and screams began to cut through the smoke. Conrad ordered soldiers forward to retrieve the wounded and fallen.

Anton gripped his hands hard, his tail burned with over half tingling with the charge. It was manageable but there was so much more to do yet.

“Are you alright?” Cetina asked. She looked at Anton’s waist.

“I’m fine.” Anton smiled faintly. “Just that…my, you know, is acting up.”

“Bad?”

“Not yet. But I don’t want to have to fight another wave of them.” Anton sighed. “All at once was a bit of a shock. But we got through it.”

“You were incredible.” Cetina’s dirty and stained face burst into a bright smile. “And just a few days after getting those books. Imagine what you’ll be like after winter.”

Anton patted her shoulder. The Lightning Crows buzzed around the bell tower, a portent of what was waiting for them inside.

“Bring the wounded here,” Anton ordered. “I’ll save those that we can. But we still need to go inside.”

Anton used what little was left of his magic to heal those on the cusp of death. They still were bleeding badly, had deep tears and broken bones, but he could fix those later. There was no way he was leaving the Church as it was. The Stitch Soldiers weren’t going anywhere. A soldier picked up a helmet covered had and the severed head flopped out. Anton stopped healing a wounded man at the sheer sight of what rolled at his feet. The Stitch Soldiers were even more horrific to see in person; their eyelids had been removed alongside their lips, the teeth glowed with a fading purple light alongside, a circle of black and purple worms hanged limp from both sides of the wound. The soldiers backed away from the corpses and drew their swords. Revulsion drenched their faces, at both what was once people and those that created them.

“How the hell did they do that?”

Cetina recoiled at the sight, a hand gripping on Anton’s shoulder. “The Church of The Holy Father isn’t meant to…”

“I know.” Anton patted her hand. “Somebody took things a little too far.”

Conrad approached, holding his head low. “About sixty dead. Better than I expected but worse than I thought. I lost a few of my men too.”

Conrad nodded to the crushed and bent corpses. The Stitch Soldiers had literally broken their soldiers. Pieces of people lay strewn across the ground, their blood mixing with the thick purple-black.

“It’s not over yet,” Conrad said.

“Just one more push.” Anton downed a mana vial, it tasted vile but replenished a decent amount of mana, as Conrad gathered the soldiers.

“A quarter of you, come with me,” Conrad ordered, standing very close to Anton. Cetina didn’t like his proximity but allowed it. “Everyone else keep an eye on those Stitch Soldiers. Just in case they decide to get back up.”

Conrad waved a soldier forward. He crouched low and snuck around the barricade’s remains, strangely careful of the blood, and reached the wall. With an outstretched hand he pushed on the door and tried to open it. It wouldn’t budge. He shrugged in defeat, Conrad waved him back.

“Completely solid.” The soldier spoke very softly. “I think they’ve barred it from the other side.”

“You still have some magic in you?” Conrad asked.

“Enough for a few of the fall-backs.”

Anton summoned three tethered lightning bombs. The wooden door stood no chance. Some poor fool had been standing behind the door. Suffice to say there wasn’t much left of him. At the far end, illuminated by a giant stained glass window of some aspect of The Holy Father, a man cowered behind a pillar.

“There’s the bastard.” Conrad chuckled before turning to his men. “Go get him. But don’t get yourselves killed.”

The men rushed in as Anton directed his Lightning Crows inside to kill anyone that resisted. One soldier jumped back immediately on passing the door, a bolt in his shoulder, the attacker slain by a quick bolt of lightning from the crows. The soldiers spread out, darting and weaving their heads underneath the seats until they came upon the priest. Their handling of him lacked any grace but given what they had witnessed they were beyond such niceties.

“Unhand me you heretics!” The priest, fully supported aloft despite his obvious refusal to use his legs, shouted at his handlers. It lacked true conviction as reality began to set in.

“Do we really need him?” Conrad asked.

“Only for what those things were.” Anton kicked a severed Stitch Soldier arm. Even after its death the glow remained, eking out through the innumerable stitches, slowly but surely fading to nothing. At the end a bundle of purple and black worm like protrusions dangled lifelessly, even when Anton shook it.

“You are all heretics!” The priest tried to free himself. “Damn you all. Can you not see that you have condemned your souls to an eternity of oblivion for daring to attack this holy site?”

“I’m sure those fancy words scares the local peasantry.” Anton downed another mana vial. “But it doesn’t work on me.”

“You…” The priest’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the heretic! The heretic that brought all of this to pass.”

Anton shrugged. “I didn’t kill your king. That’s all on your head.” Anton glanced to the soldiers. “Pin him on the ground. I don’t want him moving for this next bit.”

The priest scoffed, right before his head was slammed into the hard stone. “Torture? You truly are animals beyond salvation.”

Anton tossed the severed arm before the Priest. “So what do you call this then?”

“Gifts from The Holy Father.” An almost deranged smile graced his lips. “Those that were once criminals or mere peasants now have power and responsibilities that they could only have once dreamed of. To fight and die for The Holy Father is a noble act.”

Anton held his head. “Very easy to say when you aren’t the one dying.”

Anton chanted the truth prayer aloud. The priest writhed violently but he couldn’t free his head. The faint white glow descended over his body.

“Do you have any more of those Stitch Soldiers?”

“No.” The priest attempted to slam his head into the ground, but a soldier pinned his head down hard. “Damn you all!”

“That’s good.” Anton smiled. “Where and how do you make them?”

“Clausonne. I don’t know how.”

“Above your rank?”

The priest nodded.

“Why did they kill your own men?”

“I...I ordered them to kill everyone outside the church.”

Anton glanced to the buildings surrounding the church. Windows were slowly opening, none more than a sliver.

“They would have killed everyone in the town.” Anton sighed. “They don’t seem like the beings capable of such reasoning.”

“So you’re just an idiot then.” Conrad snarked.

Did he want to see if he would answer that underneath the spell?

“Is there anyone else still in the Church?”

“Just the children.” The priest's eyes shot wide open.

“What was that?” Anton knelt down lower. “Repeat what you just said.”

The priest shook his head, grinding his face into the rough stone.

“Children.” Anton glanced up. The soldiers didn’t look too surprised. “Well…Where are they?”

“In the basement.” The priest groaned loudly.

“Great.” Conrad picked the priests head up before slamming it down into the stone. A terrible crack rang through the stone as the priest spasmed and fell still. He was still breathing, not that Anton knew if that was better.

“Children?” Anton asked as he stood up, Cetina gently assisted him.

“Not that uncommon to hear.” Conrad gently shook his head. “Priests aren’t allowed to bed men or women…”

“So they found a little loophole.” Anton shook his head. “We should have asked how many there were first.”

Conrad shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Those bastards took my sister's child, said he was marked for greatness or some shit. She never saw him again, but I did. Dead in a pit with hundreds that had died from a plague. But a plague doesn’t cut out your eyes.”

Anton pursed his lips. “Let’s go get them then.”

Anton, Cetina and Conrad entered the Church. The wooden floor creaked lightly with every step but overall it was in good condition, baring the dead Church soldier staining the floor with copious amounts of blood. Conrad ordered the Church searched thoroughly. As the Church was long and straight there weren’t too many places to hide a door leading underground. The floor gave away no secrets but something bothered Anton.

“How many windows are there?”

“Eight.” Conrad scanned the far sides. “Oh. I see. There’s only seven here.”

He waved the soldiers to the rear wall, specifically to a large cabinet. Tiny scuff marks lay on the floor. Attempts had been made to conceal it. A large iron door lay behind with the Church’s cross planted in the middle.

“Probably was just a regular room behind.” Anton mused as he approached. “Once. Where the priests would sleep and live. Humble lives befitting someone of faith. Not so much now it seems.”

“Get the key off the priest,” Conrad ordered.

A small iron key perfectly fit into the door, the loud clunk of metal echoed in the otherwise silent room before a soldier pushed it open with the butt of his spear. A completely barren room greeted them, except for a trap door.

“Torches.” Conrad waved to the soldiers waiting at the door. “A lot of them.”

The stone stairway was old but well-worn and kept clean. At least down the centre, mold and mosses grew along the far edges, where enough light seeped through the tiny cracks in the wooden trap door to allow life to struggle. A faint orange light emanated at the very bottom as the pathway turned into a corridor leading beyond their sight.

Anton made a single step before Conrad raised his hand.

“You can’t go first.” Conrad smiled. “If you were to die here I might as well slit my own throat.”

Anton relented, Cetina was glad too and allowed the soldiers to go first. They weren’t entirely happy about it but plunged into the depths regardless. Conrad waited with them until a soldier returned.

“I think it’s safe. We haven’t found any traps. But…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s down there. I just don’t understand what I’m looking at.”

“Did you find the children at least?” Anton asked as he began to descend.

“Yes. But they’re locked behind a gate. And the key doesn’t open it.”

“I’ll handle that.” Anton smiled.

He took the stairs slowly and carefully. Now was not the time to slip and crack one’s skull. Mold and stagnated air filled his nostrils as he walked along the low stone corridor. Whoever built this had done so before well before the church; the stonework was completely different and roots had time to burrow through, a carpet of vegetation hung above them. He was glad to be wearing a helmet. The guards moved to one side and allowed them passage to the end of the corridor, two waited either side of a doorway leading back underneath the church.

A laboratory awaited him, albeit a medieval one; small glass flasks, hand blown, bubble away over small red stones, Heat stones, made through Principle Magic, scraps of rough paper lay everywhere alongside cabinets filled with strange items and materials. Everything felt very reminiscent of Ferula’s swamp village. Inspiration perhaps.

“They’re in the back.” The soldier beckoned them through the laboratory.

Anton saw the soldiers idly rummaging through the items for anything of value. Conrad quickly stopped any such thoughts, lest they destroy something valuable or inadvertently release poison.

A bizarre examination room lay after the laboratory, equipped with dozens of tables with thick leather bindings. At least thirty tables littered the room.

“This place reeks of blood,” Cetina grumbled. She poked a band of leather with her sword, dark purple blood coated the inside. “Why…Why put them here? Weren’t those Stitch Soldiers completely obedient to the priest?”

Anton lifted a restraint with his blade. Half of the nails had pulled through. “Seems like they aren’t perfected yet.” The soldier beckoned them forward again. “At least they weren’t kept with the children.”

Finally, they reached the children. Their dirty forms, clutching their few rags tight to their bodies, huddled together in the far corner of the cell. Three remained at the front, one half draped over the thick rusted iron bars. These didn’t look like outcasts but their hollow eyes spoke the horrors they had endured.

Conrad shook his head, covered his mouth with the back of his hand and pointed to the other rear corner of the room. The wet pit explained what the foul smell was, this place didn’t exactly have modern plumbing.

“Hello.” Anton knelt before the iron bars. “Do you want to get out of there?”

The children didn’t respond; the three at the front barely registered their presence while those at the back recoiled. Had they been tricked before, for some sick joy?

“Can you open it?” Conrad asked.

Anton touched the lock and chanted a prayer. The door swung outwards with a terrible groan, the children held their ears tight and retreated even further, squirming over one another so they weren’t at the front.

“They’re dead,” Anton said, a child glanced up at him. “All of them. The priest, his helpers, everyone. They were the ones that did this to you, yes?”

A young boy nodded, unwilling to look at Anton.

“Well, this place certainly isn’t doing you any good.” Anton knelt by the door and held out his hand. “Do you want to come outside and see the sun once again?”

Please don’t let this be some sort of trap. I don’t want to have to fight children.

The boy gingerly stood up on shaky feet and hobbled to Anton. He held the rag tight, clearly the only thing he owned, and reached out for Anton’s hand. Anton knew the look in his eyes; if this was a trap he would never trust anything again. For his sake Anton wasn’t that sort of person. He held the child’s hand, cold and clammy and pulled him out of the cell. This child looked around terrified but quickly realised it wasn’t a trap, the grip on Anton’s hand only increased. The others took notice and slowly began to walk to the gate. Their will wasn’t completely broken yet.

“Let’s head outside. Okay?”

---[]---

“Patrick!” A woman screamed tears of joy as she ran towards the children.

A young boy responded, even more tears streaming down his face, and ran into her arms. The scene repeated itself over and over again as the townspeople were reunited with their lost children.

“How long has he been missing?” Anton asked.

The woman, alongside hundreds of others, left their homes when they brought the children out. Some soldiers took their frantic running as an attack but quickly realised their intention.

“Oh, my sweet little boy.” She stroked the crying boy’s head closed to her chest, wiping away both of their tears. “Since the end of spring. He and almost twenty children went missing. The Church found half, though they couldn’t remember a thing…They did this, didn’t they?”

Anton glumly nodded. “They were underneath your feet all this time. Perhaps they were trying to mock you?”

“Bastards.” The woman held the boy tight. “I never should have trusted them. My husband told me never too.”

“Where is your husband?” Anton didn’t see anyone.

“He’s dead.” A void and hollow smile graced her face. “You killed him.”

Anton couldn’t respond, his body and mind completely froze. Cetina nor Conrad had words either, eventually, the woman shrugged lightly and brought her son closer.

“But…Even I know there wasn’t much choice. They forced him to fight, otherwise they’d have sent me.” The woman sighed. “But at least I have my son back.”

She bowed her head and left, leaving Anton completely lost for words. Cetina gave him a slight bump.

“I…I wasn’t expecting that,” Anton spoke softly.

“Most people in Qaiviel lead harsh lives.” Conrad began. “But it gives them the strength to keep moving.”

“I just wasn’t expecting someone to say that I killed their husband.”

That’s something that I’m going to have to get used to. If I met any Orc or Clansmen I’ll have to explain how I killed so many of their husbands and sons.

The child that first stepped out of the cage still hadn’t found their parents and wandered aimlessly behind them. Sensing his obvious panic and fear Anton approached him.

“Where are your parents?”

“Baker.” The boy pointed to a small building behind the church.

Conrad summoned a nearby soldier. “Go and tell them their child is safe.”

“While we wait for your parents can you tell me what they were doing down there?”

The child scratched his cheek. “I don’t know. We weren’t allowed outside of that cold and metal place.”

“But did you hear anything?”

“There were some people that went into the room next to us. They sounded like they were hurt. They screamed a lot.”

Anton looked at the dead Stitch Soldiers. One soldier picked up a severed heat, ripped off the helmet to reveal their butchered face.

“The priests-” The boy shuddered at their mention. His eyes snapped to the church where the priest, still alive, was being bound to a great pile of wood outside the church. “Did they say anything about them?”

Anton snapped his fingers to regain the boy’s attention. He frowned as he tried to dredge up some long repressed memory.

“They…They said to be careful of something. Over…Overthrow?”

Anton frowned lightly. “Overflow?”

“Yes! That’s it.” The boy cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

Anton rubbed his beard. “I honestly don’t know. Did they say anything else? It’s really important that you tell us so we can stop them from doing this to anyone else.”

“I don’t think so.” The boy clapped loudly. “They talked about taking us to Clausonne. Something about more subjects for testing. Something about being mal…malleable. I don’t know what that means.”

“I see…Thank you.”

A squeal caught the boy’s attention. A couple, escorted by the soldier, approached. The boy ran towards them with all speed. The two burst into tears and swept the boy into their arms, holding him with every ounce of fibre in their being.

“Imagine losing your child and he’s barely a hundred feet away from where you sleep.” Anton shook his head. “I can’t imagine losing your child. That’s one thing that worries me.”

“Will you need to leave someone here to maintain control?” Cetina asked Conrad.

Conrad laughed, pointing to the growing wooden pyre. Church pews were thrown into the pile, the priest raised high on a stake.

“Not with that.”

“At least we know the Stitch Soldiers aren’t perfect.” Anton mused. Conrad and Cetina looked a little confused. “The fact that they wanted more children for experimentation means they still have some things to work out…Or want to make them stronger. Either way, it’s good they won’t get their grubby little hands on them.”

“I’ll pass that onto Alfred.” Conrad shrugged. “Maybe we can get someone inside Clausonne to cut off their supplies once we figure out what they’re using to maintain them. Without them this war will be over soon. Worth a try at least. Maybe just kill some priests and see what happens.”

A young man snatched a torch from a soldier, defiance filled his eyes and threw it at the base of the pyre. The other soldiers followed his lead. Soon the pyre was ablaze, the air filled with the priests’ screams. No one spoke a word as a small modicum of revenge was served.

Chapter 134 - Vol 4 - Pushing Forward

Chapter 134:

Verona idly picked at the dirt and grime underneath her fingers with her dagger. Satisfied with the amount she wiped it against her thigh and returned to her prying. There was nothing better to do.

Shaken would have been an understatement to the Dark Elves reaction to the last nights foray into the darkness. Not only was it clear the war wasn’t going to be over quickly but the presence of the strange duo, where only Greens and Yellows had ever been observed, only threw more doubt into their minds. Instead of attacking again they decided on repairing their own strength until Anton, and his summoned creatures, could arrive.

It’s not like we didn’t do some serious damage to their numbers. A thousand Goblins isn’t that easy to replace…But if they’ve got thousands of Dark Elves…

Verona shuddered at the thought. The Atros villagers, dragged underneath Mount Aspire, held at least ten Goblins in their bellies.

“They’re not even trying really.” Verona sighed, tapping the end against her leg. “Just these sort of…probing attacks.”

“What are you mumbling about?” Kal asked.

Kal moved from one gravely wounded Dark Elf to the next. The medical tent held rows upon rows of Dark Elves, stained with blood and moaning in pain. Nearly a half glowed with a faint white hue. Kal worked tirelessly, drinking as many mana vials as she could before vomiting so. A truly monumental effort, but it was taking its toll.

“You should really take a break.” Verona jumped from her chair. “You’re not looking so great.”

Kal smiled. “I’m fine. I still have almost half of my mana.” She waved over the wounded Dark Elves. “And these people still need our help.”

Verona sighed, kneeling next to Kal’s Dark Elf. “I just wish that I could help. I suppose I could keep the blood in them, but those that need that sort of help are already dead.”

Kal glumly nodded, placed her hand on the Dark Elf’s forehead and chanted her prayer. A faint white hue covered their body as their pained face relaxed ever so slightly.

“Another one that will live to see another day.” Kal chuckled.

“Thank you.” The Dark Elf whispered. “Thank you.”

Kal gently held their hand and placed it by their side. Though saved from death he was still incredibly weak, probably delirious from pain and blood loss.

“I just have this line to finish off for this morning.” Kal moved to the next Dark Elf. “After that, we should probably get some breakfast.”

Verona returned to her seat and turned her attention to the Dark Elf warriors standing guard at the entrance of the tent. Gerin ensured at least four Dark Elf warriors travelled with them at all times. Though Verona didn’t need their protection with her blood power she knew it would be bad manners, if nothing else, to allow two women to wander about a war camp unescorted, even if almost a third of the warriors were women.

When the last of the row of wounded Dark Elves glowed with a faint white aura Kal joined her, flopping onto the chair next to Verona.

“Don’t overdo it.” Verona chuckled.

“I’m not. That’s about all I can do. I have maybe a quarter left.” Kal nodded to the other rows. “They’re not much better but at least they’ll survive a few more days until we can get to them. I really wanted to try this prayer artefact I read in the book, one that creates a field where everything is slowly healed, but it says it’ll take a lot of mana. And I don’t know if it’ll help those on the verge of death or maybe just fix a few scratches. I’ll try it later. And if I were to get it wrong-”

“These Dark Elves would die.” Verona frowned. “Not to mention some Principle Mage could come and undo it, then you’d be in serious trouble. Thankfully everyone’s been well behaved. So far.”

Kal snorted. “Apart from Vonkal…Trying to just grab my ears.”

“Only two people can do that.” Verona rubbed the very tip of the soft-furred extremity between her fingers. Kal sighed and gently shook her head. “I know you haven’t eaten anything since you woke up. Time to get you some food.”

“We kind of missed dinner too.” Kal sighed, forcing herself up. “That meeting dragged on and on. Then we just fell asleep.”

Verona approached one of the guards. “We haven’t eaten today. What do you have to eat on The Shadow Isles?”

The warrior stiffened, perhaps taking the wrong impression about their lack of food. “We have a large selection of food available, even at the frontlines; meats, fruits and vegetables. I’m sure the cooks could make something good for you.”

“Awesome.” Verona slapped her stomach. “This is completely empty.”

The Dark Elves led them outside to the war-camp. All Verona saw were Dark Elf warriors desperately trying to get some sleep for that night’s assault. Any place that looked comfortable enough to catch a quick nap had been taken. Nevertheless, the Dark Elves were not turning lax in their security. There were more than enough keeping a vigilant watch towards the northern forests. Even with daylight the heavy mist and thick forests kept visibility poor. The torches, which had burned through during the night, were being replaced for tonight's assault. Every so often a bow would release and a tell-tale thud of a dead body would crash onto the grass. The Goblin’s assault was relentless, perhaps designed to push the Dark Elves mentally to the breaking point. That implied intelligence and cunning. Something the lower ranked weren’t capable of. But the Reds...

“The cooking tents are this way.” The Dark Elf led the way through the sprawling camp.

“Verona, Kal.” Anton’s voice echoed through their heads. “Are you there?”

Verona chuckled. “We need to work on a better introduction but we’re here and fine.”

“I think it works just fine. We’ve just finished wrapping things up in the west of Qaiviel, wasn’t that difficult but it wasn’t exactly easy either. And we’ve got a few days spare before the next part so I thought we should jump across.”

“You aren’t worried about someone destroying the other set?” Kal asked. “If they do that Atros is pretty much doomed.”

“I’ll be staying in Qaiviel.” Cetina began. “Just to make sure something doesn’t happen. If something does I can just call you three.”

“Great. We’ll get the stones set up on this end.”

“Okay. I’ll be glad to see you two again.” Anton’s words didn’t sound exactly pleased.

“I’m taking it didn’t work.” Verona sighed. “It was worth a go though.”

“Wasn’t your best decision.”

“I let you and Anton cuddle without saying anything,” Verona smirked up at the Beast-kin deliberately ignoring her. “Remember? Nonbur’n. You and Anton holding each other tight as you crawled over the rubble and I just act like nothing happened.”

“You didn’t.” Kal raised a brow. “Next thing I know you’re barging into my bath.”

Verona laughed. “Everything worked out in the end.”

“Excuse me.” Kal stopped the Dark Elves. “We need a secure area. Where no one is going to interrupt us.”

The Dark Elf frowned lightly. “What about something to eat?”

Verona waved him down. “Don’t worry about that. Do you have a place like that?”

“Of course. Please follow me.”

A few moments later they had a small tent used to store armour repair kits. The four guards waited outside as they laid down the portal. With a flash the white disk emerged, shimmering like a pool of water.

“We’re ready on our end.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll be there.”

“Do we tell Anton about the Sand Timer?” Verona asked. “If we don’t tell him, now that he’s coming here, I think he’s going to be upset with us.”

“I think we should,” Kal said. “But we need him to remain focused on this battle and not something from his world. How we do that I don’t know, I know I’d be very interested.”

The white disk flashed white and Anton stepped through. He held his temple, furiously rubbing his head while baring his teeth. His transformation hadn’t alleviated that aspect of the portal.

“Anton!” Verona squealed happily as Anton stepped off the white disk.

Anton smiled and pulled them into a tight embrace.

“I hate being apart from you two.” Anton squeezed them again. “Even for just a few days.”

“Same.” Verona chuckled.

“Night time gets rather boring.” Kal nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply his smell.

“Yes…” Anton’s hold relaxed. “About that.”

Verona’s ear jolted in pain, Kal let out a tiny whimper. Anton held the ears tight and pulled. Not hard, Anton had never acted even remotely violent against them, but more than enough to hurt.

“You two have some explaining to do,” Anton spoke very softly.

“It was all Verona’s idea.” Kal jokingly pleaded, her eyes focused on his hand.

Anton quickly relinquished his hold, it was the same ear that had been torn off.

“You turned on me very quickly.” Verona poked Kal’s waist.

Anton sighed lightly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I…I honestly was more than a bit surprised. Especially when Cetina sounded like she was okay with it.”

Verona shrugged. “It was just a suggestion. But it sounds like she would have…If it weren’t for a few nasty Principle Mages. They’re dead, right?”

“Cetina killed one. You should have seen it. It was quite impressive.”

Verona gently squeezed his hand. “You’re getting off topic. Deliberately. I know you well enough now.”

“I honestly haven’t given it much thought.”

That’s a bit of a stretch.

“You need strong people protecting you.” Kal took his other hand. “And I’ve been speaking with Ceccitol and Tuccac. Leaders were normally killed, outside of battle, because someone in their bodyguard turned against them. At least for the Dark Elves.”

“I remember some Roman Emperors were killed by their guard, one for forcefully sleeping with their wives…” Anton rubbed his bearded chin again. Verona, honestly, liked it when it was short and prickly, he would need a shave soon. “But how would it work with you two?”

“We’ll be sleeping with you in your bed all the time,” Kal stated firmly. “That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t choose to join us every few nights. I know two people that would enjoy that.”

Verona laughed, Kal wasn’t exactly wrong.

“And children?” Anton asked, more serious this time. “Even with my transformation, Ferula says there isn’t a problem, there’s every chance that I could get her pregnant. Or anyone else that joins.”

“No men for your bodyguard.” Verona winked.

Anton sighed. Before he could speak Verona pulled on his hand.

“Of course they’ll be ours.” Verona smiled. “And we’ll love them all the same. But we’ll have a few more chats before we jump to the question. Not kids but the bit before…”

“You didn’t for Kal.”

“No. And you didn’t say no either.” Verona took Kal’s free hand. “And everything worked out wonderfully, didn’t it? So, what do you think?”

Anton closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I honestly don’t know. Right now we need to focus on the wars, those that determine the fate of Atros and everything we’ve accomplished and not those in the bedroom. I wouldn’t even know how to talk to Cetina about this. I’m not exactly into forcing people to have sex with me.”

Anton sighed again. “And I can’t exactly let you two, mainly you, Verona, run around and do whatever you want behind my back. I was definitely more than a little surprised.”

Verona laughed. “True. True. But we can definitely help in your…Conquests.”

Anton rolled his eyes. “Tell me one thing before I answer. How long do you think it’ll take to secure The Shadow Isles?”

“Even with your help probably a long time.” Verona sighed. “There are a lot more Goblins than anyone thought. And there’s a red and black pair that are leading them so it won’t be a quick win.”

“I get the feeling Qaiviel will be much, much quicker than this, even if it’s probably going to be more dangerous.” Anton took another breath. “Once that’s done we’ll talk about this further. Nothing before. We need to focus on the battles. No distractions.”

“After we’ve dealt with Qaiviel,” Verona linked her arm around Anton’s. “It’ll be the perfect time to talk about it. The entire Qaiviel Kingdom will be singing our praises. I’m sure that you’ll be up for some nice reward.”

“Is Qaiviel going to be where I bed every new woman?” Anton jokingly smiled.

Verona laughed. “Possibly. Quite Possibly.”

Well, maybe not some of them. Bedding some Dark Elves or Beast-kin girls there might be a bit difficult. Dwarf women? They might not be for you…

“But I am serious.” Anton said firmly. “No more worming and twisting people. Okay?”

Verona nodded.

Kal patted Anton’s arm. “There is something that we need to tell you. Unrelated to that. We found something when we arrived, something that we both know that you’d be interested in seeing. We didn’t tell you right away since it would’ve distracted you but we do need to tell you.”

“What did you find?”

Verona smiled. “The Dark elves use some strange…How would you describe it? Measurements of time? They say things that you sometimes slip out. Like hours, months and years.”

Anton tensed slightly. “Why didn’t they speak like this before?”

Kal smiled. “Ceccitol and Tuccac probably thought we would use what the other humans did. It would make things easier on their side if they used our words. How are they supposed to know that you know what those are?”

“Those aren’t things you can just make up on your own. Someone else has been here before, from my world.” Anton didn’t quite know how to hold himself. “You’re right. It is a little distracting. If I’d been mulling that over when those bandits attacked things might have been more difficult.”

“Not just that.” Verona brushed her front. “There’s also something called a Sand Timer, to accurately measure one hour.”

“That’s-”

“And there was some writing on the top of the one the DuskReavers have.” Verona bit her lip. “Kal hasn’t seen it, but I recognised there were letters from your world written on a metal band. No idea what it is though.”

Anton remained still for a moment, working through the implications. “Is there anything else? Anything else there that looked strange like that?”

“Nothing. The Mist Walkers are supposed to have many more artefacts from the United Empire but they definitely won’t let us see them.”

“Other people from Earth…” Anton smiled. “They’d be long dead by now, unless they found a way back. Which, by the way, I don’t want to find. So much better here, especially with you two. When we get a chance I’d like to see them.”

“We didn’t want to keep too much a secret from you.”

“It’s fine.” Anton ruffled their heads. “We can sift through it later. Once The Shadow Isles are safe.”

Kal collected the portal stones before linking with Anton’s other arm. When they emerged the Dark Elf warriors nearly drew their weapons. Verona raised her hand and the warriors calmed.

“This is Anton.” Verona began. “One of the people that’s going to help us.”

“Hello.” Anton smiled, bowing his head slightly.

“I…” The lead guard looked to Verona. “Forgive me for saying this but I’m certain that Lord Gerin and Lord Vonkal will wish to see them right away. Do…Do you still wish to visit the kitchens first?”

Anton looked to Verona.

“Just a quick visit.” Verona smiled. “There’s no way we can focus on an empty stomach. Besides, I want to see what the Dark Elves call food.”

Anton smiled. “Send a message that I have arrived and will be joining them shortly. Surely they can understand wanting to spend at least a few moments with my wives before heading into, what I imagine, will be a gruelling meeting to plan the next stage of the war.”

“I…Yes.” A warrior broke away and jogged to the Command Tent.

“I also don’t intend to walk into something completely blind,” Anton spoke firmly. “The thought of being lied and misled doesn’t fill me with the desire to help.”

Well, if this is a consequence of your transformation then I kind of like it. I’m sure if you were to talk to Cetina like that she would have dropped to her knees.

The Dark Elf nodded slightly nervously. “If you will please follow me please.”

The Dark Elves began leading them back into the camp. Anton remained with his arms linked as he looked to the sky. “There’s…Now I know why they call it The Shadow Isles.”

“The mist is actually pretty clear here,” Kal said. “Near the coast it’s almost impossible to see anything more than a few feet. It was incredible the Dark Elves even managed to guide us through it.”

Verona saw the faintest hint of a smile on the Dark Elves’ faces.

“Look at this grass.” Anton motioned to the ground, then to the trees. “Everything here has developed for low light levels. The darker and broad leaves absorb as much light as possible. This place is truly fascinating. Though it doesn’t explain why the Dark Elves have such dark skin. Surely their skin should be lighter to absorb what little sunlight comes through, unless there’s something in their diet that counteracts that. Such a shame that we didn’t come during more peaceful times.”

“Even though Ceccitol and Tuccac are pretty nice people I don’t think they would have come to Atros.” Verona shrugged. “Even the DuskReavers sound like they don’t want to go further than Bebbezzar. Maybe when we control an entire kingdom’s worth of land they might.”

Anton took in the sights of the sprawling war camp. Overall he seemed impressed though Verona sensed an unease in his stride. It was incredibly subtle, Kal would have undoubtedly noticed it too, but he was clearly worried about being here. He stopped and looked out to the forests to the north. A small group of Green Goblins slinked out of the shadows. Dark Elf warriors peppered them with arrows, felling the diminutive creatures without a care, and rushed forward to retrieve the arrows. Anton’s eye twitched ever so faintly with each kill, a hand tried to brush against his waist where his tail was coiled tight.

“Even from that far?” Verona asked softly.

Anton nodded. “Those, the Greens and Yellows, don’t do that much. Not even the Blacks. But…We did encounter something in Qaiviel.”

Anton motioned for the Dark Elves to continue. Along the way he told them of the Stitch Soldiers. Verona’s mind shuddered at the mental imagery, of what was once people transformed into hideous killers, of the glowing purple cuts, no eyelids or lips and their ability to reattach limbs merely by pressing them together. And the vile worms leaking from their wounds.

“You don’t think the Dark Elves would have heard of something like that?”

Verona shared a glance with Kal.

“Gerin might know something.” Kal offered. “He’s Ceccitol’s father. I’m sure their Elders might know more but we didn’t get the chance to talk to them before we had to leave for the front.”

“I doubt they would know anything.” Anton kicked at the dark grass. “None of what I saw was meant to be. And each time I killed them that feeling shot up my…”

“How can they be related to those things?” Verona waved towards the northern forests.

“I have no idea. Duchess Belinda’s having a look over the papers we found. It’s not much but it’s something. Not to mention they’ve got some immunity to magic.”

“Great.” Verona rolled her eyes.

Delicious scents and smells wafted through the air as they approached the kitchen. Though it was probably unbecoming of a woman to become so excited over the prospect of food Verona didn’t care. These were new types of food to experience; ones that all their Dark Elf friends had been clearly longing to taste once again. Verona kept herself under control as they were showed through.

Piles of freshly cooked meat, a dull red thick hunk of flesh, dripping with a purple sauce alongside fruits and vegetables that Verona had never seen before. Judging by their looks neither had Anton or Kal.

“You eat like Kings here.” Anton chuckled. “They don’t overdo it, do they?”

The Dark Elf smiled. “Certainly not. But Gerin and Vonkal ensure that everyone is well fed. Can’t fight a war like this on an empty stomach.”

A servant pushed through the warriors delicately balancing three large plates. She directed them to a nearby table.

“This looks excellent.” Anton nodded politely as he was passed a knife and fork.

Verona copied but she still needed practice with these implements. Most of their food they simply tore into small pieces and ate with a knife if their hands were dirty, not that that was a problem anymore with their self-filling water barrel. Kal had a little trouble as well, her life had been even less refined around eating, as Anton would put it.

All three took a bite out of the large piece of meat. It wasn’t pig or chicken, something harder but nonetheless exquisite.

“This tastes like beef.” Anton mused. He caught the servant’s attention, the young girl scurried to his side. “What sort of meat is this?”

“Is, is there a problem?”

Anton waved down her concern. “Absolutely not.”

“Fell-Cow. A small creature that lives in the undergrowth of The Shadow Isles. These are not wild though, these have been raised in a farm otherwise they’d be a lot smaller.”

“We must get some for Atros.” Anton nodded as the servant took her leave. “Very good. We’ll definitely buy some. Before we meet these local leaders what can you tell me about them?”

---[]---

With their bellies full, a rather welcome feeling, they arrived at the Command Tent. Halfway through eating a small group arrived looking for them. Anton apologised, saying that they were absolutely starved and no one could be expected to fight on an empty stomach. One appeared to be getting stroppy but their Dark Elf escorts intervened. Anton’s words had struck a chord with the man.

“If that man reaches for your ears again I’m just going to drop him,” Anton grumbled.

Vonkal immediately rubbed Anton the wrong way. Whether he disliked his actions or someone so peculiar was difficult to read Verona didn’t know. He simply told them to keep an eye on him at all times. And to never travel alone.

Daylight had brought once frenzied activity in the Command Tent to a complete crawl. Most people were gone, leaving behind a skeleton crew, as Anton had so wonderfully described such a situation. Nevertheless, the leadership had gathered before the large map of The Shadow Isles. Verona was delighted to see a small section had been retaken, where they currently stood. A tiny mark of blue against a sea of red.

“Which one is which?” Anton asked softly. “They all kind of look the same.”

“The one standing next to Ceccitol is Gerin,” Kal replied. “And Vonkal opposite him.”

Anton frowned as he studied the Dark Elves. They did look very similar but they had no such issues telling themselves apart.

“Kal, stay on my side away from Vonkal.”

Ceccitol nudged Gerin’s side before nodding to Anton. Gerin studied Anton for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Welcome to The Shadow Isles.” Gerin smiled warmly, his hand outstretched. “I believe you are the one called Anton?”

There wasn’t this much friendliness from him when we arrived. Probably because he didn’t know what we were capable of…And probably because he’s a man. Whatever works...

Anton shook his hand firmly. “I’m very sorry that we couldn’t focus all of our attention on The Shadow Isles. A major war in Qaiviel has taken away some of our attention.”

“Is it already over?” Gerin glanced at Verona and Kal. “In but a few days?”

He appeared incredibly hopeful, though Verona knew that he was hoping for the impossible.

Anton smiled bitterly. “I’m afraid not. But there is a lull in the fighting. I have a few days to help here before I must return.”

“And my daughter told me there was a fourth person?” Gerin shifted his head to look around Anton.

Oh. I wonder what Anton’s going to say when he sees Ceccitol’s children.

“She is still in Qaiviel,” Anton said. “So it’ll just be the three of us.”

Gerin nodded slowly and waved them forward. “You already know my daughter and her husband, and these are Vonkal and Salvira of the Wind Runners. They’re an Island Clan like us, so they’re actually fighting this threat.”

“A pleasure.” Vonkal held out his hand, Verona felt that he was just mimicking Gerin’s actions rather genuinely interested. “Every morsel of help is greatly appreciated.”

Salvira mumbled something but refused to elaborate.

“So how bad are things?”

Gerin and Vonkal painstakingly explained the situation, again Verona felt that they were being treated as the vanguard and Anton as the main source of help. Not that it wasn’t entirely false but they both could help immeasurably. Well over two hundred Dark Elves would live just from today’s efforts from Kal and many more no longer had to fear the life of a cripple and burden.

Anton held his chin as they pointed to specific points on the map indicating suspected Goblin hot-spots.

“It’s a great big mess.” Anton sighed. “Is it true the Mist Walkers refused to help?”

Gerin glumly nodded. “It is. And there’s very little we can do about it without angering the Mainland Clans.”

“Even in the face of annihilation…” Anton trailed away and shook his head. “A problem for another time. Verona explained to me that you’d prefer to not have your forests burned to the ground.” He frowned at Gerin. “Even though the price of failure is extinction.”

Gerin sighed. “We could not be the ones to set fire to the forest. There are sacred trees, far older than you or I, scattered throughout the forests. If we destroyed them almost all the Dark Elven clans would turn on us. And if you were to burn them down you would have no choice but to leave.”

“And you too,” Verona added. “Since your daughter brought us here.”

“Indeed.” Vonkal smiled. Verona still didn’t like the way he held himself, thankfully neither did Anton. He would be kept at arm’s length, if necessary.

“Esperit’s power isn’t going to be much use here then.” Anton mused. “What you really need is some breathing room. Something that can fight for you while you recover. And I have the answer for that.”

A Lightning Crow burst into life. The small creature flapped its wings as it hovered in front of Anton. Verona didn’t understand the connection Anton purported to have, she wasn’t about to create her own summons, horrific parodies of life, to find out.

“You can actually summon a creature that easily?” Vonkal asked excitedly. “The Glyph Mages here can only do that after considerable practice and preparation. It takes over a minute to do something like that.”

“Otherwise they create Abominations?”

Vonkal nodded, throwing a hand through his black hair dramatically. “Such things are utterly horrific. Like that crow has been riddled and bloated with diseases before turning on the caster. I’ve lost…Four mages from that since this war started. Poor fools pushed themselves too hard. And they’re hard to get too. At least once the caster’s dead they disappear.”

“Well, that’s good news.” Anton smiled forcefully. “But if I bind these into a Strohierite gem I can leave these here and they can clean out the Goblins. They don’t really have good archers, maybe some decent slingers so they’ll be fine.”

The Lightning Crow fluttered towards Anton to receive a pet. His face dropped when he saw the Vonkal and Salvira stare at him utterly devoid of emotion and comprehension.

“What?”

“Strohierite?” Salvira squeaked, she shook her hands to calm her thoughts. “That’s worth more than diamond. And yet you talk like you have hundreds?”

“Not hundreds.” Anton shrugged. “But more than enough. And I can always get more.”

Salvira struggled with the financial implications.

“You’ve spoken with…her?” Verona asked softly.

“She’s still investigating what nodeing is, not much luck she says, but she’s found some more Strohierite. Hasn’t told us where to get it, but that could just be so we retain contact with her. Apparently, it’s more tests for her apprentices.” Anton ground his teeth. “And we know how well that turned out last time.”

Gerin approached the Lightning Crow and touched its beak, recoiling and gently shaking his hand. “How many of these creatures can you make a day?”

“More than I have Strohierite,” Anton replied. “But I could easily make four or five of these and leave them scattered along the front, leave them to keep attacking anything that comes near and give you some breathing room, then move them up with your advancing…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Gerin smiled like an insane man while Vonkal was giddy with joy.

“Please tell me you aren’t joking,” Gerin asked, forcing down his elation while his daughter and husband looked on slightly worried. “We can finally start to take back some land without spilling blood, just mana…”

“That’s the plan, since I can’t burn down your forests this will have to do while I’m back in Qaiviel.”

“Just one of those will do wonders.” Vonkal laughed. “If we had the Strohierite stones it wouldn’t have needed to get you…But I digress.”

Vonkal shooed the Dark Elves away from the map. He tapped on a point near the frontline, an area was slightly darker than the rest.

“This morning our Jaguar scouts found a huge concentration of Goblins. A camp. And we believe this is where a decent portion are coming from. Is it possible for you to take them out?”

“Absolutely. I’ll need forces to come with me, otherwise, I’ll have to burn down the forest.”

Gerin nodded. “I’ll send all of my Jaguar Riders and Vonkal will send soldiers to back you up. Won’t you Vonkal?”

“Send everyone!” Vonkal laughed. “If this could start to reverse the tides I’d go out myself. Well, I’ll send Salvira now...Do you require mana vials?”

“The Dark Elves have quite potent mana potions,” Kal said. “Far more potent than those from Graterious.”

“I’d like as many of those as you can spare.”

“Of course.” Vonkal smiled. “Our mages reach the limit of mana potions long before they run out of targets.”

“Once I get those I can actually start to help.” Anton saw his hand idly reach for his waist and the tail underneath. Thankfully it was hidden and only if someone hugged him would they discover it. “Make it a bit easier on you guys…By the way, how do you feel about Dwarves?”

---[]---

Umikgruid and Gosthilda groaned loudly as they stepped through the portal to Atros. Their armour rattled and jostled with every movement.

“Forgive me for saying this,” Umikgruid shook his head, frowning deeply at Anton. “But for all your strength why still haven’t you fixed the portal?”

“I can’t.” Anton smiled. “I’ve asked Tethra to fix it but it simply doesn’t change anything.”

Umikgruid grumbled and stepped off the portal. He passed over two bags to Anton and rubbed his temples. The white disk flashed again and again as almost half the Dwarves followed. Verona was excited to see them, alongside a desire to see the full potential of the Dwarves construction ability. Verona wasn’t just going to leave everything up to Anton, she was going to keep an eye on their abilities as well.

“Everything still okay in Atros?” Verona asked Gosthilda.

Gosthilda, annoyingly only slightly shorter than she was, smiled and laughed. “Very good. I don’t know if it’s going to last but for now, everything’s going very well.”

They both helped pull the Dwarves off the portal and get some air. “Especially for humans and Beast-kin living together.”

Verona gently pulled Gosthilda to the side. “Is someone saying the Beast-kin should go?”

Gosthilda smiled bitterly. “No. Not yet at least, but…How do I say this properly, without someone’s presences, someone that could easily destroy an army with a wave of his hands, some things are starting to emerge.”

Verona checked Anton and Kal, both busy lightly healing away the disorientation of the Dwarves, and pulled Gosthilda to the side.

“Are the humans hating the Beast-kin?” Verona grumbled, shaking her head. “I know that Anton said that wasn’t acceptable under any circumstances. They don’t know about that, do they?”

“I haven’t heard anyone talk about it. Dwarves know when to keep their mouths shut, except for my husband at times.”

Brown Ears…

“Violence?”

“No…But the black skinned humans-”

“Are the Seocurian refugees doing something?” Verona glanced around. “I was certain they tried to fight to free the Beast-kin.”

“No, they’re still as nervous around the Beast-kin as usual. But some of the Beast-kin…They haven’t given up their well-deserved hatred of the Seocurians. Of their empire…You understand what I’m saying.”

Verona rubbed her forehead hard, hard enough for the skin to turn red. Gosthilda raised a brow when Verona finally stopped.

“I think we all knew this wasn’t going to be easy but…I don’t know, maybe we hoped that everything would be fine.” Verona sighed. “Some Beast-kin, despite being freed by humans, want nothing more than to be rid of humans and Kal. I know that Anton saw those looks. So what’s happening?”

“Not much right now; a few dirty looks and a small group refusing to work with the Seocurians. Which is making things difficult for the other humans, since they still have a slight hesitation about working with the Beast-kin but the Seocurians are at least human. So some prefer to work with them rather than the Beast-kin.”

Verona groaned. “All so fucking complicated with people.”

Gosthilda held Verona’s shoulder. Again she was annoyed she didn’t have to reach high up to her. “But not all the Beast-kin and humans aren’t getting along. Many are trying hard,” Gosthilda chuckled. “There have been a few awkward encounters. I saw a young woman ask about a Canine's fur and how much of their body it covered, since they knew about Kal. That was a very awkward conversation…But in the end, everyone was laughing and they continued on with their day.”

“So it’s not all doom.” Verona saw Anton finish with the last Dwarf. “Thanks, Gosthilda. Can you keep what you told me a secret? Anton’s got so much to worry about right now.”

Gosthilda patted her shoulder and nodded. She knew how to keep a secret, not that it was particularly hard.

“How are you feeling Gosthilda?” Anton asked, holding Verona’s side and pulling her close.

“Better. I just needed a moment to get rid of the spinning. What did you want us for?”

“Defences.” Anton smiled. “I want to know what you can do to help the Dark Elves increase their defensive works. A survey of what they’ve currently done.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Umikgruid hurriedly waddled behind Anton to Gosthilda’s side. “Since there’s only a few of us I don’t think we’ll actually be able to do much but we’ll get something started.”

“Excellent.”

The Dwarves stumbled out of the tent into the misty air of The Shadow Isles. They huddled together and took a moment to let the new surroundings sink in. Dark Elf warriors, escorts and those just in the camp, stopped in surprise. Some shook their heads, muttering the situation must truly be desperate, but didn’t truly begrudge their help or presence.

“We’ll be advancing soon.” Anton began. “So don’t go too far from this tent. And definitely not beyond the perimeter.”

“Even with this?” A Dwarf slapped his metal armour. Though it didn’t shine with polished metal it was still rather bright, especially in a place as dark as The Shadow Isles.

“Maybe.” Anton shrugged. “Just don’t take any chances.”

Umikgruid led the small throng of Dwarves through the encampment. Half of their escorts broke away to ensure their safety.

“All we need now are some mana potions and a target and we’re good to go.”

Anton looked nervously at Verona’s Jaguar Mount. The giant cat stared back at him, unmoving and unflinching. Verona knew it was mentally playing with him.

“How do you ride these things?” Anton asked Verona.

Verona approached the beast and gently stroked its shoulder. The beast didn’t look particularly happy, unlike Luna always behaved when she received a scratch, but didn’t stop her.

“With some difficulty.” Verona laughed. “Kal’s got it, but I just end up bouncing around all the time.”

“That’s because you don’t stand up,” Kal said. She tended to her own mount. “So your body…At least a part of it just bounces back and forth.”

Verona cupped her breasts and pointed them at Kal. “Just because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Kal laughed. “Your back is jealous of mine.”

Verona opened her mouth but clamped it shut. Kal was right, it still did ache from time to time.

Anton held her hands. “I wonder if the Dark Elves have any good seamstresses.”

Verona chuckled, pushing herself into his chest. She looked up with a devilish smile. “I was about to ask what that was in my back but it’s a little high for that. Although…”

Anton kissed her, deeply. Verona’s moment of bliss, after being separated from this for so long, was rudely broken by Kal coughing. She nodded towards the entrance of the stable, Salvira stood completely unmoving. She held another bundle of mana potions in one hand but the other tried to cup her perfectly flat chest.

“Sorry, Salvira.” Verona laughed. “Been a while since I’ve had my husband hold me.”

Salvira’s ears pricked up slightly. “I can understand that feeling. I haven’t seen my husband or our children since the war started.”

“Hopefully it won’t be much longer, before winter hits at the latest.” Anton smiled. “Speaking of, did you meet Ceccitol and Tuccac’s children? What were they like?”

Verona chuckled, prying reluctant fingers free. “A lot younger than you’d think given what she said. A lot younger.”

“How young are we talking?”

“A little bit older than Shawn and Jocelyn.”

“Oh…That’s young.”

“On the outside, I have no idea their actual age.” Verona checked the fastening on the Jaguar. “Just goes to show how desperate they were when they turned up. I don’t fancy the idea of selling off our children.”

“Certainly not,” Kal spoke defiantly. She mounted the Jaguar with her usual grace and speed. Salvira looked on in with envy as Kal’s body slinked into position.

“Later.” Verona tapped Anton’s stomach. “Once we’ve taken the position we can worry about that.”

Anton ruffled her hair as they both mounted Verona’s Jaguar. Anton clearly held reservations about straddling something with such large claws and teeth but Verona no longer had such worries. If they wanted to kill them it had ample opportunity before. Anton hugged Verona tight as they slowly exited the stable. Outside the Dark Elf forces had already gathered. A large number of Jaguar troops would lead the way, backed up by regular warriors that would mop up those they missed. Before Verona could speak a faint rumbling echoed from the north. The single Strohierite bound Lightning Crow was beginning to wreak havoc amongst the Goblins. The Goblins could only flail hopelessly at the sky as small lightning bolts rained down upon them. Anton tossed the small stone in his hand, separating it from the other four Strohierite gems.

“If only they had these earlier,” Verona mumbled. Anton squeezed her waist tight.

Gerin pushed his mount through. “Are we ready to go? The warriors are ready.”

“Just give me a moment and I’ll have the Lightning Crows ready.” Anton relinquished a hand from Verona’s waist and turned silent and still.

A lightning disk emerged in the air, a small crow, its wings rippling with lightning, emerged, gently flapping its wings as it stared blankly at Anton. Several Dark Elves gasped at the sight, Verona saw some wielding staffs wince. The knowledge that they were insanely jealous of her husband was quite a thrilling rush.

When five Lightning Crows floated in the air, and the other crow still attacking in the distance, Anton was ready. Before he could speak Verona patted Anton’s hand with her dagger. Blood coiled around her hand and into the small pots at her waist. Her clay pots were rather fragile…Why hadn’t she changed them to metal pots yet?

Metal Principle Mages. Don’t want them to just make these explode into my guts. Couldn’t an Earth Principle Mage do the same thing?

A hand rubbed her stomach.

Especially if there’s something in there.

Gerin studied Verona, her red glowing form safely nestled in Anton.

“Is Vonkal coming?” Verona asked.

“No…I thought your voice would have changed.”

Anton laughed, patting Verona’s shoulders. “I don’t think I’ve been in this position when you’ve had your power on.” He ran his hand over her hair before fastening her helmet on tight. “I like the red peeking through the silver.”

“Stop it.” Verona swatted at his chest. “Later.”

Verona smiled at Kal, she shook her head and sighed lightly.

Gerin waved the warriors forward, Verona bumped Anton’s side.

“Aren’t you worried about your tail?” Verona whispered. “There are going to be a lot of Goblins.”

Anton nodded. “I am. Don’t worry.” Anton kissed her head. “I’ll let you know if it starting to get dangerous. I can just make a spear and let it crumble.”

We both have something that we need to look out for. Lucky us.

Anton ordered the Lightning Crows to attack every Goblin within range. The five creatures flapped hard and sped into the sky, soaring above the camp and trees before unleashing a small torrent of lightning into the darkness. Even with Kal’s night vision enhancement still functioning the death of the Goblins were something to behold. Once silent and still shrubbery, even with Anton’s lone bound Lightning Crow attacking from above, erupted in movement. Green and Yellow Goblins darted in every direction to avoid the deluge of lightning bolts. Dark Elves cheered and laughed at the scattering of their enemy. Anton frowned lightly and gently shook his head.

“There’s just so many.” He whispered to Verona. “They had moved so close without anyone noticing…And in such numbers too…I don’t like this at all.”

“How about your tail?”

Anton smiled. “A few little blips, nothing too bad so far.”

The Dark Elf force silently followed the trail of destruction left by the Lightning Crows. Smouldering corpses littered their path, many lay blackened and charred, sprawled where they fell while others had been partially melted to the shrubs and trees. Small fires had started, an unavoidable aspect of using Lightning magic, but a water mage followed behind. Verona clicked her tongue when she saw he was a Principle Mage. Not that he couldn’t be useful.

Bows twanged and arrows sunk into flesh all around them. Verona kept them away from the front, alongside Kal and, without being asked, Salvira. They remained in the relative safety of the centre while the warriors on foot raced to maintain pace behind. Verona kept her attention upwards, she wasn’t about to be struck by a falling Goblin.

After some time the forest began to thin and Gerin slowed their force. Verona saw him looking back to them so she waved Kal to follow. Salvira was more than content to remain where she was.

“This is the first hotspot?” Anton asked.

Gerin nodded glumly. “Indeed.”

He pointed to a large clearing before them. What was once some holy site, giant wooden totems dotted the clearing, was now a huge writhing mass of Goblins. Despite the quietness of the Dark Elves, there was no way to hide the sound of lightning, though they didn’t know what was coming for them. Amongst the crude stick and central leather skinned huts, the creatures prepared their defences as best they could. Those with spears took the front, arming themselves with pieces of black and red marbled wood for shields, and those behind with their crude bows, javelins and slings. Verona scoured their numbers for any sign of the Red and Black duo but found nothing. A few Oranges and Purples but nothing too dangerous. Verona glanced up at Anton, his face mirrored her thoughts.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Anton mumbled. “That map had a lot of red dots. Some bigger than this…”

“Yes. They love desecrating our holy sites and turning them into nests.” Gerin fell quiet.

“We need to convince those Elders to actually risk their forces and fight.” Anton’s face turned dark. “Or they have to be removed. Your people won’t survive otherwise.”

Gerin remained silent. Such a thought had crossed his mind, and probably nearly every member of the Island Clans, maybe even those of the mainland too.

The Lightning Crows swooped into the clearing, discharging their strikes at everything that moved. The Goblins quickly broke as their ranged weapons couldn’t reach the crows and those that could simply missed the small targets.

“Kill everyone,” Gerin ordered, shooting a rouge Goblin trying a pointless charge. “Stay together and don’t venture away from the area. This is our objective, not to go running through these forests only to get ambushed.”

“Let me have the first strike,” Anton said.

While Anton’s variety of magics had grown the range of most new magic was quite short, short enough for him to gather whatever the dying Goblins let off that built along his tail. Kal waved him down, drew a flame enchanted arrow and fired. A burst of flame erupted on the outer defences, quickly spreading to the other ramshackle huts and defences. Even if they had no other magic Verona was confident they would win this fight.

“Charge!”

The soft paws of the Jaguars did nothing to hide the sound of hundreds of beasts tearing through the undergrowth and into the clearing. Upon seeing the true nature of the assault the Goblins dropped their weapons and ran.

At least those at the front broke.

The second line, several with ranged weapons, tried to catch those fleeing and put them into the defences. A few Black Goblins remained behind them and directed the Greens and Yellows with whatever measure of control they had.

“Fucking rats.” Verona snarled.

“We’ll get them all.” Anton patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“I know…I know.” Verona wrapped a cloth around her face, lest a drop of blood send her into a frenzy.

Arrows peppered the Goblin defenders as the flames began to spread. The Jaguars ran along the streets, trampling everything in their path while the Dark Elves could fire from safety. Within a few moments, the entire Goblin force was in complete and total chaos.

“This isn’t so hard.” Anton mused. “At least once they’ve been broken.”

“Some Dark Elves will still die,” Kal grumbled. “A few lose arrows and spears will still find their mark.”

“True…” Anton sighed. He looked at the surrounding forests, frowning at the dark and murky shadows occasionally illuminated by a flicker of flame over a dark shiny leaf. “We might not be able to hold this position. How long does it take to reach these Mist Walker Elders?”

“Less than a day on one of these things.” Verona scratched the Jaguar’s neck.

“When we’re done we’ll need to have a chat.” Anton barred his teeth for a moment. “They might have brushed you away because you’re women but I’m not going to let them get away with their shit.”

“I’m liking this newer, more aggressive Anton.” Verona stepped her fingers up Anton’s chest to his chin. “Did your new body do this? Did you actually bed Cetina?”

Anton scratched his beard. “Perhaps. And no, I didn’t. But seeing this…Wait a second.”

“What’s wrong?” Verona drew up her blood.

“One of my crows just disappeared.”

Five Lightning Crows remained above them, firing indiscriminately into the camp of Goblins. Verona saw another disappear into a burst of lightning. Anton grumbled loudly. He glanced back to the Dark Elf warriors approaching on foot, they were too far away to have done this.

“A damned Awakened.” Anton shook his head. “They can block magic. I can feel it tearing at the crows, rather than the Principle Mages.”

“I can’t see him.” Verona bobbed her head about, pushing the Jaguar forward. “Is he hiding in the bigger tents?”

“I can’t tell where it came from.” Anton downed a mana vial. “It just ceased to be.”

Verona rose up. Something at the rear of the camp, just before a large wooden totem of some unknown god, caught her eye. It was clearly a Goblin but its blue skin stood out amongst the Yellows and Greens swarming around it. Verona had never seen anything like this, neither the wooden staff in its hand. It looked similar to the staffs of the Principle Mages however more bestial and savage. The skulls, not from a Goblin, adorned the gnarled top alongside sinewy pieces of meat and animal limbs.

“I see him!” Verona pointed at the Blue Goblin. “At the back. Blue skin.”

“A Blue Goblin.” Anton glanced at Kal. “What else have these little bastards got in store for us? They’re only meant to be Yellows and Greens here.”

“I’ll stop him.” Kal drew an arrow and chanted a homing prayer.

As Kal released another Lightning Crow faded away. The Blue Goblin swayed from side to side, its deformed lips muttering some incomprehensible language and rattled the skulls on its staff. It glanced up and dove behind another Goblin, pinning him in one spot to take the strike. Anton tapped Verona’s shoulder and signalled for her to charge.

Both Jaguars leapt from the safety of the shrubbery and into the fray with the warriors on foot close behind. The Blue Goblin snapped its head towards them, clearly aware where the arrow had come from. Its screeches stopped the retreat of the nearby Goblins and threw them back into the fray, even a few Black Goblins. That alone told Verona where they stood in their hierarchy.

“Stay behind us Kal,” Anton yelled.

Kal gave a single nod before losing another homing arrow. Again the Blue Goblin used another Green Goblin as a shield, holding its body up as its lips began muttering another chant.

The remaining Lightning Crows descended upon the Blue Goblin. Its eyes snapped up and crouched low behind the Goblin and absorbed the blows. A small white aura grew around the staff and shot out like a bullet, just like the Awakened from Mount Aspire, at a Lightning Crow. The crow tried to dodge but it couldn’t, its downward momentum only allowed some minor changes to its direction and took the shot head-on. Anton grunted as the creature disintegrated into an explosion of lightning. The other retreated, Verona knew that Anton had directed it and the creature hadn’t abandoned them.

A beam of light shot out of Anton’s hand, a lance of lightning. The Blue Goblin slammed its staff into the ground and a white six-sided shield burst into life and caught the lance. The shield flickered and cracked but held. Anton appeared slightly annoyed but the Blue Goblin was exhausted.

“Just a bit closer,” Verona whispered.

Anton readied to attack again when the Blue Goblin screeched with an ear piercing shrieked and shot another bolt of white magic at Anton. Anton’s hand tensed on her waist as a fire shield erupted in front of her. The white shot hit the shield, Anton’s hand shook, but it held. The flame dimed for only a moment, unlike the Blue’s shield. When it faded Verona saw the goblin tremble in fear, both hands gripping tight on its fetish covered staff.

“I can get him,” Verona yelled.

The blood coiled above her head and dived into the ground. She followed the buckling ground as the crystallised blood burrowed through the dirt. The Blue Goblin backed away, its head and eyes twitched from side to side. Dirt burst as the blood shards flew out and skewered the Goblin’s chest and head. Verona griped her hand and the fresh blood, the blood that she had letted that was now under her control grew into more crystals and eviscerated its body into shreds. The remaining Goblins broke upon seeing the Blue Goblin fall.

Dark Elves swarmed throughout the camp and drove Goblins away, Gerin had to rein them in so they didn’t run into the forest. They had very little idea of what was happening a hundred feet into the forest from the clearing. For all they knew a new Goblin force could be coming or they could stumble into regrouping survivors. Though it was a short battle they had won the day, not that Verona heard any cheering.

“Be careful of the tents!” Anton yelled. “These little bastards are great at laying ambushes and traps.”

Dana found that out the hard way.

Verona didn’t know if the Dark Elves were going to listen to Anton, being an outsider, but they appeared to. Small groups breached the small wooden huts. A few screeches, and a few wounded Dark Elves later, and everything except the larger tents were cleared.

Gerin approached, looking very proud with the outcome. “One of our recent victories. A small one, to be honest, but one we sorely needed.”

“I think it’s a bit premature to call this a victory,” Anton noted. “You haven’t checked the central huts yet.”

“My lord!”

A Dark Elf recoiled from the central tent, backed away and vomited. The others only looked on in surprise and worry.

“That’s why.” Anton sighed. “What better way to ensure the fronts are always fully staffed.”

“Oh no.” Kal forced her face to remain rigid.

“Are you telling me they’ve been this close all this time?” Gerin’s face barely held his fury in check.

“Let’s check before we get any ideas.”

Verona knew that Gerin understood the lifecycle of the Goblins; they could use female Goblins to reproduce but they needed other races to breed to truly ridiculous numbers. Anton had a few ideas about that but they mattered little when the reality was lying before them. The other tents elicited similar reactions to the first, soon none were willing to peek.

Ceccitol and Tuccac joined them in the centre, Salvira was smart enough to remain behind. Verona felt Anton’s trepidation and anger, not that she didn’t share such feelings. She had borne witness to the horrors in the depths of Mount Aspire. And while those memories were better left locked away for all time she simply couldn’t run away.

Anton took a deep breath and opened the tent. He sighed, a hand reached out to prevent Verona and Kal from looking but Verona did not accept such kindness. What lay inside confirmed her fears. The Goblins were reinforcing from the frontline bases. And the poor, poor Dark Elf women lying before them provided that service.

Twenty lay before them, forced into the small tent with no regard for space or cleanliness. Their blank eyes stared at the ceiling while their chests moved with only the lightest of breaths. Mentally destroyed but that didn’t matter, only their bodies were of importance. Every stomach was bloated with baby Goblins of varying levels of pregnancy. Clearly, some were about to give birth, judging by the stretch marks covering their otherwise smooth dark skin, and others only just recently captured.

“I’ve never actually seen it.” Tuccac held a hand over his mouth, clearly breathing slowly in an attempt to calm his head. “They’ve told us but…”

“I…” Ceccitol had no further words.

“You’ve been lucky then.” Anton smiled bitterly. “Can you hear us?”

The women barely responded, a few looked at them but their eyes clearly didn’t believe that rescue had come. After all that they had endured why would it come now?

“Get them out of here and into the light,” Anton ordered. “Then we’ll burn this place.”

Tuccac ordered the reluctant Dark Elves forward.

“What about them?” Ceccitol asked. “Can your magic get rid of them?”

“No…But Kal and I can heal simple wounds.”

Ceccitol didn’t understand, she backed away as the captives were gently carried out.

“As I see it there are two ways to deal with this.” Anton began. “Firstly, we let nature take its course and wait for the Goblins to be born naturally.”

“And then kill them?” Tuccac asked.

“Yes. But…I’m never going to understand what it’s like to have something growing inside of me, knowing what horrible place it came from, but it can’t be good. The other way is to remove them. Physically.”

---[]---

“Fucking hell.” Kal wiped the blood from her gloves. “I never want to have to do that again.”

“Hopefully we won’t,” Verona said glibly.

Verona sat outside of a large Dark Elf tent lying in the middle of the former Goblin encampment. The Dark Elves moved quickly, bringing up goods and materials for an outpost. Dwarves moved hurriedly around doing what they could to reinforce the perimeter. Verona even saw some Dark Elves, that looked like shamans, placing strange protective wards on the exterior. How effective they were, considering their current state, was up for debate. But it was better than nothing.

“Are they all saved?” Verona asked. “I’d go in but there’s way too much blood in there for me. I can smell it out here.”

Kal smiled. “They’re fine now. All the babies have been removed and Anton’s healing the last few right now. But…I don’t know about their minds. I don’t think those can be healed.”

“Dana was fine.” Verona winced. “But I suppose that depends on what you mean when you say fine.”

“I don’t think she’ll ever forget what happened.”

“How could you?”

Anton emerged from the tent, hands and sleeves covered with even more blood than Kal. Kal used her cloth and began dabbing away the flecks of blood on his face. At first, Anton wanted to say something but wisely said nothing and allowed Kal to tend to him. Kal smiled as she enjoyed the moment.

“Eighty caesareans isn’t what I expected to witness today.” Anton mused, tilting his head at Kal’s behest.

“I’m glad that they’ll live.”

Anton’s face darkened. “I honestly don’t think many will survive the winter. One tried to slit her own throat the moment she regained her strength.” Anton shook his head, Kal slowly pulled her hand away. “I think they just want it all to stop. I don’t blame them.”

“Anton!”

A deep voice, Umikgruid’s, called out from the perimeter wall. It wasn’t much, a series of short spikes rammed into the ground that Goblins could simply climb up or squeeze through the small gaps at the ground level. Umikgruid held similar doubts.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, Anton, but I don’t think this place can be held. Not with what you have. And help so far away.”

“We don’t have the numbers to push the front-line forward and hold it.” Anton glanced to the south. “Of course, if some Elders were to actually help we’d have more than enough soldiers.”

“I can’t help with that.” Umikgruid laughed. “But I don’t want to be here at nightfall.”

Anton searched out Gerin. “No. Can you come with me? Help explain to Gerin that we need to retreat after all this?”

Umikgruid nodded.

“We’ll be back in a minute.” Anton smiled.

Verona and Kal both waved as Anton and Umikgruid left. Kal followed Anton’s back for a moment, her tail falling low, before joining Verona on the box.

“Last winter…” Kal chuckled and trailed off.

Verona knew exactly what she was going to say. The same thing could so easily be applied to her. Last winter she was certain of her imminent death, one way or another. Who knew the next spring everything would change, seemingly out of nowhere. It really was a gift from the gods.

“Can you still walk?”

“I can.” Kal slapped her legs. “It’s only a problem when I lose all my mana. Why?”

Verona pointed at the totems. “Because we can help Anton and Atros right now.”

Verona hoped off the box and found the Dark Elf Principle Mage. He was guarded by several warriors, it was easier to replace a warrior than a mage.

“Excuse me,” Verona called out. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes, honoured guests.” All bowed deeply. “Thank you for rescuing our brethren. Their lives must have been true hell before you arrived to save them.”

“Thanks. What can you tell me about these totems? Are they of the Old Gods or something else?”

“Each is a different aspect of Fliodher, the Demi-God of Beasts. But that totem is the most common depiction of her. At least in The Shadow Isles. Why do you ask?”

Verona flashed her powers. “Because we need their help.”

“Many try to commune with the Old Gods but very, very few succeed. I have tried but found my questions unanswered.”

Verona laughed. “We’re a little bit different.”

The Principle Mage wasn’t going to push the point, he bowed and returned to his duties.

Beneath the central totem, the Blue Goblin’s corpse lay dormant and still. Odd, considering every other corpse had long been thrown outside the clearing.

Verona glanced at Kal. “You’ve never heard of these ones either, right?”

Kal glumly nodded. “Never. Ferula didn’t mention Blue Goblins, but she did the other colours.”

“So are these new or unbelievably rare.” Verona kicked the corpse. “Goblin mages. Seems like we’re running into a lot of things that are supposedly rare.”

Verona’s crystallised blood picked the creature up and threw him into the dark shrubs and out of sight. Hopefully some rats would find nourishment from the horrible thing. That left his fetish staff behind, a small trophy of this battle. Once they had a teacher for Principle magic, the Dark elf didn’t fit Verona’s criteria for a truly loyal teacher and potential bodyguard, they would know more about this.

“How did Anton do this?”

Verona looked at the totem. Above three Lightning Crows rested on the top, their heads darted from side to side as they scoured the surroundings. Beasts had been carved deep into the wood, all depicting struggles for dominance or simple survival. Near the top Verona saw a Peryton. Were they not always one of Nithroel’s toys?

“How do you pray to Tethra?”

Kal retrieved her silver medallion. “Usually I hold it and just talk to Tethra. That’s what I did for so, so long. Took long enough to work.”

Verona laughed. “I think this might be a bit big to hold.”

Verona stood close to the totem, clapped her hands together and closed her eyes.

I don’t really know what I’m doing, but if you can hear this we’d like to meet you. Someone we’ve met said that you would be willing to help us but can’t contact us without Nithroel noticing. But if we do it this way…

Verona opened her eyes, Kal stood beside her mimicking her actions.

If you can hear us bring all three of us into a dream we will gladly hear what you have to say. Surely you could use some help somewhere, Fliodher, Demi-god of Beasts, and in return help us. Please hear this.

Verona opened her eyes, Kal still held her closed and murmured something underneath her breath. When they opened she smiled.

“Do you think it worked?” Verona asked.

“I think so. I prayed to Tethra before I knew anything about magic.” Kal smiled. “This time I don’t think it’ll take as long.”

“I wonder if we’ll get a new girl this time.” Verona teased.

Kal rolled her eyes.

Anton ran towards them looking more than a little disappointed.

“Bad?” Verona asked softly.

“Gerin wasn’t particularly happy to hear we have to retreat.” Anton glanced at the camp. “They put a lot of work into this.”

Anton pulled out five Strohierite stones from his pocket. “Even with Five Lightning Crows, or even the next level or two up, I don’t know if another Blue Goblin will emerge. And if it banishes them, whatever it actually did, this place is far away from the front and will be surrounded. Doesn’t take a genius to work out this place won’t survive. The Dark Elves can’t afford such losses.”

“In a few days, they’ll have some more warriors.” Verona offered, shrugging lightly. “It’s not much but something. Maybe more if you get some healing aura…” Verona sighed. “Fucking stones.”

Anton patted her helmet. “I remember some of those etchings I could put onto the rings would make them more resistant. I think I know what that means now.”

“Anything from the totem?” Anton asked.

“Maybe.” Verona glanced at the wooden pillar. “I think Fliodher might contact us tonight. Who knows? Kal can join us for one of those meetings. Just so long as we don’t meet Jira or Esperit. Don’t want her planting her breasts on my head again.”

Anton laughed. “I wonder what Fliodher looks like. Not much to go on with this.”

Anton quickly repeated their prayer. There wasn’t much else to do but wait.

“The shelter’s almost ready!” Umikgruid yelled across the camp.

“Shelter?” Verona raised a silver brow.

“No point to just leave this place to become reinfested.” Anton waved them to follow before downing another mana vial. “Much better than the ones from Graterious. Anyway, why not just leave some summons here and let them keep the Goblins away. That alone should take some stress off the front.”

The shelter was really just large column of wood with a large flat surface on top. On top, a small rudimentary roof would protect the precious stones from the weather and any ranged weapons but allow the crows to come and go. They didn’t know if the creatures had to return to recover their mana but it was better to prepare for all eventualities.

Five small Lightning Crows fluttered away from the shelter, rising high into the air before beginning to strike the Goblins nearby. The forest was all but completely illuminated by the lightning flashing around them.

“This will buy you some time,” Anton said to Gerin. “Though they’ll just go around this place eventually.”

“A bit of relief will do us wonders.” Gerin smiled faintly. “Just a shame we have to give it up.”

“How much does Earth Mana does that use anyway?” Anton returned to the resting Jaguar, nervous to offend the large beast, and retrieved the small wooden dial. He nodded and tucked it back into the pack.

“Thought so. We’re still under by a long way. Looks like it’s just these bound Lightning Crows.” Anton rubbed his beard. “I wonder if we over utilised Earth Mana it would draw all of the Goblins here? Best not test it here.”

“I’m not really sure what you’re talking about but I think we can consider this a victory. At least we’ve gotten something out of this.” Gerin shook his head as the captive females were manoeuvred to the Jaguar Mounts. “Eighty lives isn’t much but everyone will fight much harder now. If only in the hopeless belief their lost loved ones might linger in the shadows.”

“We’d best retreat now. Leave the tents. I know that we’ll be back.” Anton nodded to the south. “After we have a little chat with the Elders.”

“They won’t listen to humans.”

“They will.” Anton summoned a small fireball. “I’ll make sure they will.”

“But-”

“Gerin, I’m only going to be here for another few days maximum.” Verona didn’t like the intensity or tone of Anton’s voice. “In that time I could make a few, maybe ten more bound Lightning Crows. And I don’t know when I’ll get more Strohierite gems. But what good is that going to do along miles and miles of constant fighting? None! Sure Kal and I could make something that heals the wounded but the Goblins are going to keep killing and we can’t resurrect the dead. There only two of us, soon only one, that can actually heal. Their numbers are essentially limitless and they’ll grind you to pulp. Just like that have been for almost a year. You can’t win this way.”

Anton paused and took a deep breath, calming himself and lowering his voice. “Your people are dying in droves while those Elders sit content in their little fortress doing absolutely fuck all. That is not acceptable, for you or your people...Only the most arrogant and stupid person would let your species become extinct because they hate you for where you were born. I’m not saying they aren’t capable of absolutely moronic decisions but I refuse to believe it. There’s something more to this, I’m sure of it and I’m going to find out. And if they are just being stupid.” Anton summoned a fireball. “We’re going to whittle our way through them until we find someone sensible.”

Verona hoped the elders would actually listen for once. Were they really going to let their people die for some ancient and petty reason? She didn’t like the implications in Anton’s words. The humans that he killed when he first arrived, to restore a semblance of order and organise an effective resistance to the Goblins, he didn’t flinch as he killed them horribly. Verona knew that, sometimes, bad things had to be done for the betterment of all. She trusted Anton’s judgment.

She just needed to support him, no matter the outcome.

Chapter 135 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Spiteful Elders

Chapter 135 Pt.1:

Anton stood before the large door leading the Dark Elves council chamber in the Mist Walkers fortress tower. It was truly an impressive structure but nothing compared to the tower in the White Realm, absolutely nothing in comparison. He paced idly back and forth, glancing at the perfectly still and heavily armed Dark Elf guards. The only thing that moved were their eyes that followed his every movement.

“Sit with us, Anton.” Verona quietly called to him. “There’s nothing we can do until they decide to speak with us.”

Verona sat against the obsidian wall. Kal rested against the wall nearby, her hands well within reach of her blades. Gerin, Ceccitol, Tuccac and twenty DuskReaver warriors stood on the other side while holding a look of deep concern.

I won’t say anything too bad. If they’re actually reasonable…

Anton did as he was bid and sat next to Verona. She held his knee tight.

“No one is this stupid,” Anton mumbled. “At least they shouldn’t be. I definitely think you’re right. There’s more to this than just hating the Island Clans for apparently siding with the United Empire.”

“Like what?”

Anton shrugged lightly. “If it’s not pride and a huge dashing of hubris then it’s probably only one thing. Money. But I don’t understand how that applies here…”

Anton glanced at Gerin.

DuskReavers are the only ones that trade with the outside world. Except for the Green Moon clan, but they were pirates so that’s not really the same. Every Island Clan has ships so they can move about the Islands…Maybe it is just hubris and arrogance.

Anton closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. “Hopefully these Elders will actually listen. And not just because I’m a man, or that I have more obvious magic.”

“Old…” Verona leant closer. “Old bastards wouldn’t let us say anything. Well, Gerin said not to speak. And they did come across like they were really, really cranky.”

“Getting old can do that.” Anton chuckled. “Hopefully things won’t have to turn for the worst.”

Verona’s hand gripped tight on his knee, Kal’s ears pulled back slightly as her eyes narrowed.

“Ceccitol told me they have amulets around their necks that stop magical attacks. I don’t know if it’s going to reflect it back, but something to be aware of.”

Anton kissed her gloved hand. While he would prefer to not use violence he would if necessary, especially when survival of a species was on the line.

More time passed, the minutes dragged on before finally the door opened. An immaculate Dark Elf guard passed through his face as devoid of emotion as those to his side.

“The Elders will see you now, Gerin.” His eyes turned to Anton. “The humans and beasts must wait outside.”

“We made it very clear that we wanted to speak with them.” Anton rose, brushing away non-existent flecks of dirt. “I imagine that they just want to berate and belittle Gerin and the DuskReavers again.”

The Dark Elf stared at Anton for a moment, judging him. Ever since the change, Anton had felt himself turn a little more aggressive, in all things, but it hadn’t impeded his judgement or caused him to take rash decisions. Verona and Kal agreed but he felt their nervousness.

“Very well.” The guards opened the doors. “But understand what you have asked. And remember your place before the Elders.”

Anton took but a step before receiving a large armoured hand thrust into his face.

“Is there a problem?”

“No weapons. Especially not in the hands of humans.”

“My friends took their weapons in last time.” Anton smiled. “Or do you think we’re actually a threat to you?”

The guard entered the council chambers, Anton heard a few harsh words thrown at the guard before he emerged once again. He opened the door fully and stood to the side. Anton bowed his head, the guard paid him no heed and followed the DuskReaver leaders inside. The Elders sat around a large table, hunched and stooped, decrepit Dark Elves, just as the girls described. Anton’s eyes were drawn to the Elder sitting directly across from the door, the only one that looked to not be in some form of senility. Two were asleep while the others were more concerned with eating and discussing some sort of idle gossip rather than dealing with the threats that surrounded them. And the potential threats that had just entered.

“Honoured Elders.” Gerin began, bowing deeply alongside the DuskReavers.

Anton didn’t, neither did Kal or Verona. They weren’t impressed by the state of the Dark Elves either.

“Despite all of our efforts, even with the help given to us by the humans, we are unable to fully push the Goblins back. There are simply too many.” Gerin looked up at the uncaring and seemingly unaware Elders. “If we don’t receive help we will fall.”

“Then why have you brought the humans with you?” The Elder croaked out. “What good can they do here rather than at the front? Are human’s magic so powerful they can fight from such a safe distance.”

I wish.

Gerin looked at Anton, worried. He didn’t know how to respond. Anton had no such qualms.

“Greetings, Honoured Elders.” Despite Anton’s misgivings about the situation it wasn’t a good idea to antagonise them straight away. “My name is Anton. And I’ll be quite frank. Without your reinforcements, they will fall. Why aren’t you sending your forces to help the Island Clans retake The Shadows Isles? You all live here. And you will all die here if you don’t start working together.”

The Elder dismissively waved his hand. “I do not expect a human to understand. There-”

“A human?” An Elder woman half shrieked, pulling herself up. “Here?

The Elder sighed. “Humans conquered the Dark Elves. Used us as soldiers for their wars and threw us aside when we were spent. And those Island Clans helped them do it.”

“So it’s revenge?” Anton shook his head. “That’s a terrible reason. If the Goblins surge through the front lines how far are they going to go before you can stop them? Can you even stop them?” Anton struggled to find the words. “You’re dooming your entire species for some petty stuff that happened lifetimes ago. None of you were here, neither were your parents or grandparents so just like this pointless hatred go.”

The Elders were unmoved.

“Did you know there are Black and Red Goblins amongst them, actually directing the horde?” The Elders showed a tiny sliver of interest. “This isn’t some mindless horde. Individually they are but now have direction and purpose. Their attacks are designed to take advantage of the Goblins strengths and compensate for their weaknesses, planned attacks…If you’d left your tower in the past decade I think you’d know that.”

Several Elders chuckled but none showed any emotion greater than contempt. They simply didn’t care, or they had some other plan the Island Clans weren’t aware of.

Anton stared at his feet, trying to catch his thoughts. He clapped his hands, one Elder snapped away and glanced around.

“So what would it take to get the Mainland Clans to help?” Anton glanced around the rather bland room. “Gold perhaps? Silver? We have a lot of that.”

“Aren’t the DuskReavers paying you to help them?” Another Elder asked.

“Indeed. But…” Anton looked at Ceccitol and Tuccac. “But I need something more than what silver or gold could buy.”

“You don’t have enough gold.” The second Elder chuckled.

“So there is a price.” Anton smiled at him, the first shot a silencing glare. “You just think I don’t have enough since you think I’m some wandering mage.”

Anton retrieved a hidden pocket of gold coins and threw them onto the table. The thin string broke, gold coins scattered in all directions. Gnarled fingers reached for the gold coins before studying them close underneath old eyes.

“This looks real.” An Elder spoke softly.

“Just one small bag,” Anton said. “And we have a chest full of it too. Probably bigger than your chair even. And some jewels too. Would that interest you?”

The Elder holding the coin turned to the first. “Maybe we should listen. This is much easier than-”

“Silence!”

“Oh…”

“What was that?” Anton smiled. “It sounded like you were planning on something else giving you money.”

Anton held his hand, gripping the ring tight.

“Verona, Kal. Keep ready for anything. See if there’s anyone hiding in the room. Things might turn bad and we need to be ready.”

“Is something wrong over there?” Cetina’s voice echoed through his head.

“We’re fine right now, Cetina. We’ll talk when we can.”

“Be safe everyone.”

Anton focused his attention on the first Elder. His face had wrinkled even further in anger, the other Elder slinked low in his chair in a vain attempt to avoid his rage.

“What was the plan?” Anton asked. He summoned four fire Octahedrons above his head, the Elders gasped and the guards drew their weapons.

Anton raised his hands. “I’m not going to do a thing unless they order you to attack. Now…The plan.”

The Elders remained silent. Anton pushed a Fire Octahedron closer. The Dark Elf guards advanced but Anton pulled the Octahedron back. The guards didn’t back away or down, Verona turned to them and held a hand over the blood pots. That alone gave the guards pause.

“The plan!”

“I…” The second Elder glanced at the first, wincing even more. “The Mainland Clans can’t trade with the wider world, there are not good places for ports on the mainland. Everything has to go through the Island Clans. And everyone except the DuskReavers refuses us. The DuskReavers force huge tariffs on everything that passes through. We barely make any money.” The second’s face grew slightly angry. “But not the Island Clans, their goods go through without problem.”

“Is that true?” Anton asked.

Gerin scoffed, quickly remembering what was unfolding around him. “It’s not like it’s undeserved. Everything we buy from the mainland has the same tariffs. So why should we have to pay and they don’t?”

Anton turned back to the first Elder. His hand slowly reached into his cloak and removed the amulet. Anton’s magic reacted negatively to its presence, the mana requirement grew and the structure grew more erratic.

“I’d put that away,” Anton said quietly. “You’re making it rather annoying to control. And if I lose control it explodes in your face.”

The Elder kept the amulet held tight his grasp.

Anton turned to the Dark Elf guards. He could see their tense posture, all they required was but a word and this place would descend into a blood bath. Anton hoped they would come out well; Verona had all her ports filled with blood and Kal’s quiver bristled with new arrows.

“Use the Island Clans to do get rid of the Goblins.” Anton began. “And leave them so weakened and depleted you could just take them out without much risk, and if they did fall it’d give you the perfect excuse to take them over.” Anton ran a hand through his beard. “Really? Is that why you’re willing to throw away everything? Money? Because you’ve both been arrogant pricks to each other, this mutual escalating pissing contest, and neither of you are willing to come to an agreement?! Instead of being dicks about this you could be working together. Trade, goods and money could be flowing in and out of The Shadow Isles but all of you are so stuck up your own arses you can’t see past your own stupidity and anger. So both of you need to get off your high-”

“Enough of your babbling.” The first Elder nearly growled. “You may think that we are but a bunch of decrepit old fools but you wouldn’t be the first to regret that decision. We understand perfectly well what is happening.” He shuffled back into his seat. “And the Island Clans will retake the lost land, no matter the cost.”

The Elder snapped his finger. A servant Dark Elf approached, his footsteps utterly silent while he kept his head downcast and never looked them in the eyes.

“Write a decree.” The Elder’s face turned unbearably smug. “All Island Clan members are to head to the front line; the old, the women and children. Everyone. They will drive the Goblins back no matter the cost. No retreat.”

“I-”

Gerin’s words were silenced by a single raise of the Elder’s hand, the golden amulet within.

“And that humans and Beast-kin are forever banned from setting a single foot on The Shadow Isles.”

The amulet flashed purple and Anton’s Fire Octahedron near the second Elder vanished, the others wobbled and transformed back into spheres.

“Mages, both Principle and Glyph have threatened us before. Did you think we were without protection?”

“No.” Anton summoned another Fire Tetrahedron. The servant Dark Elf had finished writing the decree but had yet to leave. “I honestly didn’t. But that piece of paper isn’t going to leave this room.”

“The moment that you leave it will.” The Elder chuckled.

Anton said nothing, staring at the Elder. Slowly the smugness faded away.

“You dare threaten us?” The Elder sunk into his chair.

“I honestly haven’t had to threaten many people so far.” Anton began, slowly forming a level two lightning summon. It was incredibly disorienting to keep the rings spinning correctly but he managed to focus, somehow. “Some at the beginning, yes, but everyone else has been relatively agreeable. Money or favours has been enough usually. Or someone has been kind enough to intervene. But not everyone can be negotiated with. Not everyone will listen to reason.”

“We’re ready whenever you are, Anton,” Verona spoke softly through the ring. “Eight heavily armed guards behind us. A lot more outside.”

“And another four in the shadows behind the table,” Kal added. “Archers I think. I can see them clearly.”

“So, are you going to help defeat the Goblins or not?”

The Elders turned to the first. He said nothing, slowly weighing his options. Anton began the summoning just before the Elder nodded at the soldiers. His amulet flashed purple and two of Anton’s Octahedrons disappeared.

“Shit!” Gerin pushed Ceccitol and Tuccac away.

The guards silently ran towards them, their weapons drawn and took two fire Octahedrons to their chest. Those two evaporated but the other six continued the charge. Their black shields glowed with a purple hue, a magic protective shield perhaps? Anton had no time to ponder, four black arrows hurtled towards him, a purple arrow flying to the source.

A lightning shield burst into life, catching the arrows halfway. Anton’s eyes were drawn to the tips; large, gnarled and not meant to be removed easily. An explosion of lightning rattled behind him, illuminating the archers lurking in the shadows. Another purple arrow soared past as the lightning shield vanished. The Elder held the glowing purple amulet, the others held their aloft too but with far less certainty. Anton’s summoning of the level two Lightning Crow had distorted but remained in one piece. He poured mana into the central semi-sphere which helped but the aura from the amulets continued to play against him. Anton threw a fire lance at the nearest Elder’s amulet. The thin beam of light began to widen and distort but retained most of its potency. The amulet exploded in his hands, sending searing pieces of metal in all directions, striking the Elders’ face. His hand blackened and crumbled away to halfway down his forearm. His shriek stopped most of the Elders from using their amulets. Another lightning arrow flew over their heads.

Verona’s body glowed red, the blood coiled around her hands and flew at the guards. They weren’t surprised, evidently they had researched what a Blood Berserker was capable of and raised their shields high. Verona’s blood crashed into their shields harmlessly and shattered into tiny fragments. Verona smirked as the blood liquefied and splashed back onto their shields, some onto their armoured faces. One realised their peril and stopped, dropping his shield to wipe away the blood but it was too late. The blood hardened and three guards dropped dead. Their armoured bodies maintained their momentum and careened along the floor. Verona grunted as the blood coating the shields remained a liquid but the dead elves were essentially a limitless supply of blood. The blood darted across the floor and grabbed the Dark Elf’s boots in a vice of hardened blood. With a downward swing of his sword the blood shattered and liquefied, once again beyond Verona’s control, but it didn’t matter. Liquefied blood snuck through the gaps in his armour. Sounds of tearing flesh and snapping bone filled the air as his armour buckled and cracked. His head snapped to one side, a great shard of blood jutting from his neck, and fell down dead.

Gerin, Ceccitol and Tuccac had not been idle. They threw themselves into combat with everything they had. Thankfully they outnumbered the guards inside the chambers and could attack from multiple angles. Their swords broke small chunks of armour off, the guard simply couldn’t fend all their attacks off. Ceccitol knocked the sword down and stomped her boot down hard, snapping it free from the guard’s hands. Gerin winced as he drew a dagger and rammed it hard into the gap between his helmet and his neck. Even with chainmail and a leather underlay the thin blade, identical to Tuccac’s, drove through and found a vein. A gush of blood later and the guard struggled to hold the wound close.

Anton’s summon had finished and the large Lightning crow burst into life. The crow was slightly larger than normal, its wing tips and tail feathers rippled with lightning. Anton directed it to target any Elder that used their amulets. One Elder still held his amulet up, Anton felt the distortion ripping at the existence of his summon. Though they apparently had no thoughts or agency he felt its distress, perhaps more annoyance at being forced back into the ether. The bright glow consumed its body before it shot off its three lightning bolts at once. Though each faded away before reaching the amulet the fright of a blinding and terribly loud blast caused the Elder to drop his amulet. Once free from his hand the light faded and the distortion faded away but didn’t dissipate.

The door burst open and the other Dark Elf guards ran in. The DuskReavers behind hadn’t been detained but clearly had no idea what was happening. Anton wasn’t sure if that was a wise decision but the guards were probably left with little choice with their charge being threatened. An explosion behind the table signalled the end of the hidden archers.

Verona laughed and directed her blood across the floor. The guards glanced at the unnatural sight and tried to avoid but couldn’t jump high or far enough. Verona directed the blood upwards as hundreds of tiny spikes. Though their armour was more than strong enough to shrug off such small and weak spike there were many holes and gaps for the blood to enter. The guards stopped as their armour exploded with shards of blood. All collapsed in a great thud, weapons scattering over the floor as a blood spike ripped through the bodies and out their necks’.

“Is that everyone?” Kal asked softly. She had another lightning arrow nocked and ready, her head scanning every shadow and potential hiding space.

“Maybe…” Anton summoned a level two fire summon. The Fire Imp was, like the crow, larger than the previous. His sword was longer, claws shaper but was only a slight improvement to the previous. Except for a few pieces of hardened armour on its chest. “If they try and use their amulets again, kill them.”

The Fire Imp jumped onto the table and glared at the cowering Elders, the Lightning Crow floated above the Fire Imp.

“Now we’re going to have another chat,” Anton said. “And this time I think we’re going to be a little more reasonable, aren’t we?”

“My first proper fight in a while.” Verona groaned loudly. A drop of blood ran perilously close to her mouth. She quickly wiped it away, careful not to accidentally let it touch her lips. “Those books were…”

Verona slowly raised her hands. A shadowy knife emerged from the ether, pressed tight against her throat. Anton’s blood ran cold as the rest of the figure emerged, a shadowy silhouette held Verona’s arm tight and close to their body.

“Nobody move.” The shadow spoke softly. “Unless you want this one to die you will surrender. I will count to three and I will slit her throat if you do not remove your magic. And the summons too. There are no games here anymore, human. Do as I say. Right now.”

“I-”

“Now!” The Shadow wasn’t going to entertain the slightest hint of a conversation.

Anton felt a slight quiver in his voice. The Shadow was panicking. Verona couldn’t disarm him…The Shadow was focused on Anton’s summons. Would they linger for a few moments even after he was killed? Was that it, or was the Shadow grasping at straws?

“See?” The Elder chuckled, shakily holding the purple glowing amulet. “I told you we were ready to deal with mages.”

Verona, the blade pressed so hard against her neck her skin had already turned red, gently nodded. But not before giving a tiny wink. The blood behind Verona, out of sight of the Elders and the Shadow, coiled into a ball. A thin shard shot out like a bullet, catching the Shadow in his upper chest, scraping Verona’s helmet, dozens more striking his body and punching out his skull. Before any final impulse could compel him to slash her throat Verona ran the blood along his arms and pulled them away. She stepped to the side, holding her throat and threw the body away.

Anton rushed to Verona and pulled her close. The blade had cut but it wasn’t serious. He quickly healed her and turned his attention to the eviscerated Shadow. Whatever magic had protected the Dark Elf evaporated with his death. The black garbs enveloping the man were very odd, covered with strange white lines, reminiscent of the diagrams and mathematical expressions endemic to Principle Magic. The blade too was covered in the same strange etchings.

“Gerin.” Anton found him sheltering his family behind him, eyes scanning for any hidden strikes. “What was that?”

“A Shadow Hunter,” Gerin whispered. “They’re supposed to be a myth.”

Anton chuckled, holding Verona tight. “I’ll be taking his clothes and blade when we’re done.” Anton turned his attention to the stunned Elders. “Disarm them of their amulets.”

It took a moment but the three DuskReavers inside complied. Their shock was too great to object. With the amulets removed and tossed to the furthest corners of the room the reality sunk in.

“What have you done?” Gerin angrily asked.

“Gerin, before you say anything more…”

Anton increased the number of Fire Tetrahedrons and created two level two Fire Imps. “Are there any more Shadows lurking about in here?”

“No.” The first Elder sunk into his chair.

“He’s lying,” Kal said. “He just glanced at the entrance, his eyes are trailing something coming towards us.”

Anton took a deep breath. He pushed Verona away and threw a weak lightning wave towards the doorway. The DuskReavers outside recoiled as the lightning burst out of the ether and hit everything nearby. The elves grunted in pain, the lightning contracted their muscles as they fell to the ground, alongside another body. Though invisible the lightning wrapped around the Shadow’s form. Verona threw a large blood shard into the body, killing the Shadow instantly.

“Are there any more?” Anton asked the elders.

“No.” The second Elder whimpered. “There are only two.”

“Brothers?”

He grimly nodded.

“One way to be sure.” Anton looked at the large Fire Imp. “Bring him to me.”

The Fire Imp dragged the Elder to Anton. His flaming hand burned through thick clothes but Anton didn’t concern himself with their pain. If they had actually listened and done the right thing he would have happily left, or was that just his mind trying to justify his actions? It didn’t matter either way.

Anton held the Elder’s head and canted a truth prayer. The Elder’s eyes swivelled from side to side as he lost control of his voice.

“How many Shadows do you have?”

“Two.” The Elder forcefully spat out. “There are only two Shadows at once.”

“Good. Do you have anyone else hiding in this room?”

“No.” The Elder croaked. “I…”

His hands gripped hard onto his chest. His breathing stopped and he scrunched his face in pain. A heart attack. Anton healed him and gently laid him on the floor. Though he was healed he remained unconsciously, breathing short and shallow breaths.

“Just rest for a moment.” Anton patted the man’s head. “Did that messenger get killed in that scuffle? Did you shoot him with an arrow, Kal?”

Kal shook her head. From underneath the table, a terrified and near pale Dark Elf emerged, shaking hands gripped the edge of the table tight.

“Do you still have that message with you?”

“I…” The messenger looked at the Fire Imps. “I do. I never left the room.”

He placed the paper on the table. Anton directed the Fire Imp to destroy it.

“I have another idea.” Anton smiled at Gerin. “The Honourable Elders of the Mist Walker clan have decided to commit all of their military forces to the front immediately, under the command of Lord Gerin of the DuskReavers.”

“What?”

“Gerin…” Anton smiled faintly. “There was no reasoning with them. Nothing you could have said would have changed their minds. You know that, I’m sure that you’ve tried before but they just brushed you aside.”

Gerin said nothing.

“And this may sound terrible but it sounds like you and the Island Clans weren’t exactly willing to work with them either, though you were once you realised the threat which makes you better. Somewhat. But now we have a chance to fix things and beyond the simple war.” Anton turned to the Elders. “After their forces have been sent to the front and joined yours, probably give them a fright of actual combat, you can start to reconcile between the difference between the Island and Mainland Clans. Stop the stupid and pointless economic war that you have going on. That couldn’t be done while they are still in command.”

“Stratos didn’t tell me this when he sent me the vision.” Ceccitol looked quite afraid, undoubtedly for her children’s sake more than her own.

“I think prophecies have a way of turning out different than what you want.” Anton smiled as warmly as he could. “Save your Clan and people can mean quite a many number of things.”

“I…I suppose so.”

“Have you written that letter yet?”

“Yes!” The messenger jumped and held a fresh piece of paper up.

Verona directed a shard of blood to take the letter and brought it to Anton.

“Exactly as I said. Excellent.” Anton waved it back. “Deliver that to whomever you were going to send that first letter to, then return. Oh, and by the way.”

Anton waved him closer. The messenger’s legs only carried him through unrelenting terror. Anton created a tiny pinprick of flame and tapped his hand.

“Don’t think of saying anything of what happened in here.” Anton passed him a gold coin and tapped on the small burn mark. “Understood? I don’t want to use any magic on you.”

With but the tiniest hint of a nod the messenger made a hasty retreat. The DuskReavers outside the council chamber groaned and slowly rose up, allowing the messenger to run past. They would be cranky for some time but Anton would repay them for their pain and inconvenience. Perhaps the prayer healing could fix any miscellaneous aches and pains. Anton waited until the messengers' footsteps had completely disappeared.

“What magic did you cast on him?” Verona raised a brow.

“Nothing. Just made him think that I did. He was ready to pass out from being near me, he just needed a tiny incentive to make sure he kept his mouth shut.” Anton smiled. “That’s the problem with secretive leaders; if they’re taken out, when no one but a chosen few ever see them, who’s to say they’re really gone? You don’t look like you speak to many people, so who’s to say that you aren’t just issuing orders…with your trusted messenger. Hell, it might turn out better for them if the elusive Elders start lowering taxes and offering out rewards. The people might think highly of you, though you’ll never actually know.”

“Wretched humans.” The first Elder snarled from his lying position. He tried to stand but the Fire Imp prevented him with but one look from its flaming eyes. “I should have had you thrown out of The Shadow Isles the moment they came into this room. I knew you were going to be trouble. And look what you have done. Gerin, are you going to allow the humans to rule over The Shadow Isles again?”

Gerin turned to Anton, utterly devoid of emotion.

“I have no intention of ruling over an entire species. I’m having enough trouble with just a few thousand.”

Verona coughed lightly. “Gerin. They aren’t going to let you, or your people, go free after this. You don’t have any choice now but to see this through.”

Verona gave him another wink.

Gerin closed his eyes, after several deep breaths he scrunched his fists tight. “Very well. The Mainland Clans will fight-”

“You honestly think they will keep quiet once they discover what’s happened here?” The Elder growled. “The moment they realise that you have attacked us they’ll turn on you. Not even your pet humans will be able to stop everyone. And if he kills them there won’t be anyone left to defeat the Goblins. The Dark Elves will become extinct because of what you allowed to transpire here, Gerin.” The Elder softened slightly. “Unless you stop this madness now and remove these humans.”

Anton looked to Gerin. “Even if you get rid of us you know they aren’t just going to forgive you for this.” Gerin remained silent. Anton turned to the Elders. “And that you’ll find a way to get word out if we imprison you in The Shadow Isles. Even I don’t think we can kill you without someone speaking up. But I know a place where no one is going to care about anything you have to say. I think you’re going to enjoy it.”

Chapter 135 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Spiteful Elders

Chapter 134 Pt.2:

“We don’t really have a prison.” Bertram smiled warmly. “There has never been a reason to have such a thing in Atros. Or the resources really…”

“But they have existed,” Anton said. “Somewhere in the old Kar Kingdom? You can’t have just cut everyone’s hands or heads off for crimes that didn’t warrant it.”

“Surdon had one, quite a large prison, and it was quite full near the end, but most there were sentenced to hard labour. But these….” Bertram motioned to the dozen Dark Elf Elders bound and waiting in the corner of a barn. “I don’t think they can work. They look older than I am.”

“I don’t need them to work. Just keep them somewhere safe until we’ve got this whole situation sorted out.”

“And how did you get all these old Dark Elves?” Jeff asked. He approached and leant close, studying their wrinkled faces. “I didn’t think they could get this old. And why is one missing a hand? Those are burn marks, aren’t they?”

“More a burnt stump of a hand.” Anton shrugged. “But is there somewhere you can put them without them causing any hassle?”

“We could leave them here I suppose.”

“They still need to eat and drink.” Rasha offered. The large blue Minotaur leant against the barn door, her halberd resting in the crook of her shoulder. “And to clean up when they’ve…You know.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be much of a problem, honestly.” Anton smiled at the Elders. “Unless you want someone like Rasha to crush you underneath her hooves.”

The Elders shook their heads. Rasha was simply too big to miss, though in a good way. She smiled and ground her hoof into the ground.

“Good. Now you’re going to remain here until we’ve sorted out The Shadow Isles.” Anton sighed. “I don’t think Gerin likes me very much anymore.”

“Who?” Rasha tilted her head.

“Don’t think you’ll get away with this!” The first Elder yelled. “When the clans discover your treachery they’ll kill you and the DuskReavers to a man.”

“This is just like the Clansmen thing in Qaiviel.” Jeff glanced back to Anton. “Isn’t it?”

“Pretty much. But all the more reason that these people don’t escape.”

“I’ll put a dozen men on this room at all times.” Jeff turned to the door. “That should be enough.”

“Tell them that if anyone frees these old men their lives are forfeit.” Jeff stopped to query Anton’s words. “This is far more important and potentially dangerous than anything I’ve done so far.”

“Got it. They won’t be leaving this place.” Jeff stepped through the door and began barking orders to the guards waiting outside.

I get the feeling that’s going to be their fate regardless.

“I need to head back.” Anton turned to leave. “This was just a simple drop off. Oh, Bertram, do we still have the Ghlyirl armour we recovered from the Awakened Goblin. The strange one from Mount Aspire?”

“It should still be in one of the storage barns. Next to the old Kobold poison jars.”

“Bring that here and make sure the Dark Elves are touching it. If a mage is touching Ghlyirl they can’t use magic.”

“I see.”

Bertram hobbled to the door and spoke with his son, returning a few moments later.

“By the way, Rasha, do you know if Eider has made any of her venom yet? I remember her saying that she was going to do that.”

“I don’t think so.” Rasha scratched the base of her orange horn. “I talk to them every morning but she hasn’t said anything about it. She’s currently working in the fields, if you want to talk with her.”

Anton waved her down. “I don’t have time. If you see her could you ask?”

“I will.”

Anton patted Rasha’s arm. “I want to say something to them, to justify what I’ve done, perhaps to even rub it in their face, but it’ll probably just come across as one-sided.”

Rasha smiled, but Anton could tell that she didn’t understand. It probably was a rather far-fetched concept for a former slave.

“What would you say to your former owner?”

Rasha gripped the shaft of the halberd. “I don’t know…I don’t really even know if I’m angry at them. We were all just tools to them, one way or another. And that’s all I was. Just a piece of meat and muscle. What they did to us in the Pleasure Houses is a different story.”

“I see…”

Jeff returned a minute later with twelve guards, two carrying the fragments of the Awakened’s Ghlyirl armour. The Elders tried to move away but their bindings prevented them. Jeff ordered the pieces to be placed against their skin. Anton had no idea if they actually had mana, nor how their amulets worked, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“They’ll be safe here,” Jeff spoke gruffly. “We’ll talk with the Dwarves about building a prison. They seem pretty eager to be doing anything relating to building. It’s actually pretty…odd.”

“They love the freedom to build and design what they want. And we’ve given it to them.” Anton rubbed his beard. “I wonder what’s going to happen when the rest of them get here.”

“We’re still struggling to keep up with building homes and food.” Bertram smiled bitterly. “Please don’t bring too many more people until we get things sorted.”

“I’ll do my best.” Anton turned to the Atros guards. “Take them outside if they need to use the latrine or whatever, but that’s it. These people cannot escape under any circumstances. Understood?”

The guards nodded. The two most powerful people, magically and martially, had given the same order. Anton gave a final glance to the Elders as he rested his hand on the barn door. Part of him wanted to say something but it would do no good. There was nothing to do here anymore.

Outside the light and fresh air of Atros assaulted his senses once again. Anton chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

“It’ll take me a while to get used to the brightness. The Shadow Ilse is very aptly named.”

Rasha emerged from the barn, standing to his side. He was glad that she took her job seriously.

“When will you be back?”

Anton sighed. “I honestly don’t know. Hopefully before winter. This place snows, apparently, and I’ve never seen it before.”

“If it’s snowed before how…” Rasha frowned. “How…”

“Don’t think too hard about it.” Anton patted her arm again. He chuckled as he began walking. “I keep forgetting that you’re so tall.”

And big.

Rasha smiled and walked by his side as they returned to the portal building. The light clacking of Rasha’s hooves on the stone streets was strangely pleasing and soothing. During that brief moment of calm a thought bubbled through his head.

“Rasha? Can I ask a favour of you?”

“Of course.”

“Even though you don’t know what it is?” Anton smiled. “I could ask you to strip right now and run naked through the streets.”

“I…”

“People would look, I know that.”

Rasha’s ears reddened.

“I’m joking, Rasha. But please be careful before agreeing to anything. You never know who you’re talking to.”

“I trust you, Anton.” Rasha smiled. “I know that you’d never hurt us.”

Anton smiled back. “I’d like to think so, but considering what I’ve just done.” Anton sighed. “Rasha…Are you willing to kill someone if I asked you to?”

Rasha stopped, her eyes lost in deep thought. Slowly she began moving again but her back was stooped lower ever so slightly.

“It depends. Who are you talking about?”

“Those Dark Elves,” Anton said quietly. “If I ordered you to, would you kill them?”

“…Yes.” Rasha kept her face flat. “I’m one of your bodyguards, so I have to obey your orders.”

“Even though they’re just some old, powerless men?”

“You brought them here from The Shadow Isles, so there must be a reason why they can’t stay there.” Rasha scratched her horn. “And since they’re tied up they’re clearly your prisoners. That’s enough for me.”

“So you’d do it?”

Rasha nodded. “Yes. I would.”

“Hopefully I don’t have to do that. But…”

“I know there’s a lot I don’t understand, but I’ll trust the person that was willing to trust me after I attacked him, gave me a new home and life, along with a position and responsibility that someone like me could never hope for. So I'll do it if you ask me to. Whatever you need…”

Rasha patted Anton’s back, he stepped forward from the strong swipe. Rasha slowed and stared at her hand.

“What was that?” Rasha looked around for anyone nearby, the street was relatively devoid of people. “There’s something around your waist. New armour design?”

“Well…” Anton glanced around. “It was going to come out one way or another.”

Anton raised his shirt. Rasha gasped, covering her mouth.

“What?” Rasha leant close, resting her weight on her halberd. “It looks like Eider’s tail. I…I didn’t think you had something like that. No human I know...”

“It’s something new.” Anton rolled up his pants to show the scales covering his lower legs. “And it goes further down. I don’t even have human feet anymore. It’s extremely uncomfortable in these boots.”

“How?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Anton smiled, patting his pants down. “Can you keep that a secret?”

Rasha nodded. “I know when to keep my mouth shut. Something you learn quickly in Seocuria.”

“I bet.” Anton ground his boot against the ground. Kal helped him find a position where he barely noticed it but sometimes the wads of cloth shifted. Thankfully no one noticed him kicking it back into position.

“And it’s something even you can’t fix?”

“Indeed…Not even a person far, far more powerful than me couldn’t do anything.”

“Someone’s more powerful than you?” Rasha chuckled, smiling as she righted herself. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Turns out I’m actually quite weak.” Anton began walking again towards the portal building. “I need a lot more training before I can stand alongside them.”

Rasha opened her mouth but said nothing. She walked silently beside Anton, holding her halberd tight.

---[]---

After bidding Rasha a farewell, the blue Minotaur reaffirming her willingness to follow his orders and keep his secret, Anton returned to the council chamber in The Shadow Isles. This time the mental delirium was far less than usual, though his mind was probably more focused than normal.

Kal and Verona rushed to his side, pulling him free from the portal.

“Everything good back home?” Verona asked. She had deactivated her blood power but the lids of the pots were stained with blood.

“Everything’s fine. Rasha found out about this.” Anton tapped his waist. “But she’s going to keep quiet about it…Not that I think many Beast-kin are going to believe her.”

“How did you manage that?” Verona teased, worming her hand underneath his shirt. “Despite her size, I don’t think she’s going to be aggressive with you. Quite the opposite in fact. So it must have been you then, wanting some woman to stroke this thing.”

“Please.” Anton patted her helmet before holding Kal’s hand. “How’s Gerin?”

Kal squeezed his hand. “Better now. I think he just needed a little bit of time.” Kal smiled bitterly. “You know, without the person that removed the Elders that he’s been brought up to obey no matter what. He’s on a balcony on a higher level right now if you want to see him.”

“Has someone taken the Shadow’s clothes?” Anton asked. “Invisibility would be incredibly useful.”

“If we had enough mana…” Kal trailed off.

Verona pointed to a small bundle of clothes placed on the Elders table. All of the corpses, at least what could be readily identified as once a person, had been moved to the far wall alongside the blood.

“We removed the blood but they don’t do anything.” Verona shrugged. “Maybe they only work for Dark Elves or Principle Mages. Or I destroyed them. There are some big holes running through them.”

“Let’s talk to Gerin first. We can’t just leave him after all this.”

After collecting the portal stones they found Gerin standing perfectly still on the balcony one level above, Ceccitol and Tuccac stood nearby. They saw him first, though clearly still unnerved by the previous events they looked better and far more agreeable.

“Are they moving out?” Anton asked. He stopped well back from the edge of the balcony, just in case Gerin wanted to make Anton fly.

“They are.” Gerin sighed.

He pointed below, hundreds of small lights twinkled through the mist and towards the north, towards the front line.

“No one questioned my orders once the messenger relayed that message. They still look at me like I’m not deserving of the command. But.” Gerin shook his head. “But they’re going.”

“Have they even fought a Goblin horde before?” Anton moved closer to the balcony’s edge. “Full of bravado, I imagine.”

Gerin chuckled. “Indeed. Indeed. They think it’ll only take a few days to clean up the entire mainland. Some were actually eager to show us how easy it would be.”

“Any thoughts on how to deal with the shock they’re about to get? The Island Clans have been fighting them for a long time, and seem a lot tougher than the Mainlanders.”

“We’ll see how they go.” Gerin slapped the stone balcony edge. “With this many, we might actually just overwhelm them.”

“If only the Elders had decided to work together like this from the beginning.”

“Yes…” Gerin tapped the balcony and turned around, resting his backside against the stone. “I didn’t ever expect to become the, how would you put it, the de-facto leader of the Dark Elves thanks to a human. But I don’t intend to rule The Shadow Isles.”

“If you tell the Mainland Clans I don’t think you’ll survive for very long.”

And neither will we, and I’m sure they’ll take the same route Ceccitol and Tuccac did the first time. A little bit of ocean is not going to stop their revenge.

Gerin looked to his daughter. “I can’t. Not if I want my grandchildren to live.”

“None of the warriors with us will speak a word,” Ceccitol spoke softly. “I’ve made sure of that. They understand the implications of what’s happened.”

“Now we can return to the front.” Gerin overlooked the departing warriors, more were joining from the sides. The Elders were far more prepared than they first thought. “Will you be joining us?”

Anton nodded. “We will be seeing this thing through until the end. I may have to disappear to Qaiviel in the next few days, maybe sooner if they run into bandits or more mercenaries. I think I’ll leave a few bound Lightning Crows with Cetina. Just in case.”

Gerin scratched his chin. “Perhaps the Elders were right. Human’s tend to cause all sorts of problems.”

“It was hardly good and fair before we turned up.” Anton pointed out. “We’re ready to leave whenever you are, but we’re taking those special clothes and blades.”

“I don’t want anything to do with it.” Gerin held his hand out, waving dismissively down the tower. “I don’t want anything to do with what happened in that room.”

“To the front it is then.” Verona tried to raise the tempo but failed.

Anton knew the day would be long and the conversation light, to put it bluntly.

Chapter 136 - Vol 4 - Beasts in the Dream

Chapter 136:

Anton’s mind groggily roused from its slumber. Thankfully the time spent in the White Realm wasn’t growing fast but it was, despite his best yet unguided efforts, growing. It was probably only a second since touching the stone in Balefire Mine.

“My head hasn’t been this groggy since…”

Instead of seeing the early morning light of Qaiviel, he had returned to Duchess Belinda’s convoy for the night after removing the Mist Walker Elders, a faint blue light streamed through the tent. He was utterly naked but his clothes, usually placed in a rough pile unless Kal tidied them up, were immaculately stacked beside his rucksack. This was not the first time this had happened.

Anton shuffled across and reached out to the rough cloth of the tent. Though normally quite pliable it was harder than stone, resisting every attempt to shift and bend.

“So which God are we going to meet today?” Anton’s voice echoed, different from the White Realm. “Maybe the Demi-God of Beasts. Ferula didn’t tell us what the difference between a God and a Demi-God. Jira seems extremely powerful and Tethra didn’t get knocked down a level.”

Anton threw off the bedroll. Unfortunately, his feet remained unchanged, he flexed his toes and found them somewhat stiffer than usual. Each night it took a few tender minutes of massaging to get the blood flowing properly after being cramped into his boots but this was different. Something was affecting them, his tail too. It wasn’t bound but took considerable effort to move. Knowing there was no point in waiting inside he quickly dressed and moved outside.

Cetina, who should have been on guard outside, was nowhere to be found. Nothing of their camp was present. It was just him. Strangely the box that Cetina had sat on remained.

The land around his tent completely disappeared after a few feet, an empty light blue void extended in every direction. Light streamed from every point at once, there were no shadows in the God Dreams. A path of floating pieces and broken land stretched before him. Gingerly Anton tapped one with his boot. Just as the cloth tent they didn’t move.

“If it’s the Demi-God of Beasts I wonder what they look like,” Anton mumbled aloud as he took the first step. “Wasn’t much to go on with that totem.”

Anton climbed the floating stones until he came to another small plateau. This too was a camp, but the tent was unequivocally Dark Elf in design. Anton couldn’t find another pathway into the distance, the floating stones behind him fell away and disappeared into the blue light.

“Is this Verona and Kal’s tent?”

Anton pulled the flap aside, it moved but the other parts were completely rigid. Inside lay Verona and Kal, sleeping soundly side by side. Verona, annoyed by the light, groaned and rolled over, a hand nearly striking Kal’s nose.

“Hey,” Anton said softly. “You two awake?”

Both slowly roused from their slumber. Kal’s ears hanged low, like most mornings, while Verona stretched out her arms.

“Morning, Anton.” Verona licked her lips. “What’s for breakfast…Wait a moment.”

Verona rubbed her eyes hard and looked over his shoulder into the blue light.

“Oh. Oh! We’re here again. And you don’t have human feet, that’s a shame. But you’ve still got your tail.” Verona laughed, letting her arms fall limp. “At least I’ll have something to play with.”

“Aren’t you in Qaiviel?” Kal asked, still fighting away the sleep. “Why are you in The Shadow Isles?”

“I thought you two wouldn’t go to bed at the same time.” Anton passed over Verona’s neatly stacked clothes.

“We aren’t.” Kal murmured something and flopped back to bed.

“You’re terrible at waking up some days.” Anton gently rubbed Kal’s hand.

“But why are you here?”

“Because I’m not in The Shadow Isles.” Anton glanced outside. “And neither are you.”

“What?” Kal slapped her cheeks. Her sleepy green eyes focused. She frowned upon seeing the perfectly rigid walls of the tent. Her claws had the same impact as Anton’s, absolutely none.

“Where are we?” Kal searched for her weapons but found none. The God’s Dream never allowed such things. “Where are my weapons? Why can’t I feel my magic?”

“It’s fine, Kal.” Anton held Kal’s hands. “Verona and I have been here before. Not this exact place but close enough. This is how we meet the Old Gods. Did Tethra not bring you to one?”

“No.” Kal took the neatly folded shirt and rammed it over her head.

“She still is pretty weak.” Anton backed out of the tent. “When you’re dressed I’m sure we’ll find out where we’re supposed to go.”

The girls emerged into the dream world. Kal remained very close, holding Anton’s arm while scanning the empty blue void surrounding them.

“The books never said anything like this,” Kal whispered.

A pathway rose out from below the small plateau, leading further into the void. Anton held them close and slowly walked along the path. Neither were willing to take the first step onto a slim piece of dirt that was clearly too thin to support their weight. Nevertheless, it held but they remained very close.

Another large plateau emerged, this clearly wasn’t a recreation of some existing place. A large stone lay in the middle, nestled by a ring of dense shrubbery with a small stone fountain at the centre, water cascading over the stone, across the short grass and into the void. Dozens of small animals, many that Anton had yet to see in this world, scampered through the grass and darted into the shrubs. Upon touching the grass they stopped as one before running away. Once their feet left the pathway it too fell into the void.

“So where is the God?” Kal asked.

“Not sure.” Anton looked to the fountain. “It’s always been a large table in the centre of Atros for us. And they were already there.”

Something moved behind the stone, a pattering of something light and delicate on the grass and stone. A young woman, a bow in one hand and a quiver on her back, slowly climbed the stone. Whomever she was she held a wild beauty, like Kal; a soft-featured woman with short brown hair, hidden underneath a pelt hood. She didn’t wear cloth or silks, instead white and light brown furs covered her top in a crude amalgamation of a shirt, exposing a toned stomach, and a skirt made from a dark and coarse fur. Leather sandals made almost no noise as she sat next to the fountain. With a wave of her hand, the water flowed away from her and up the stone, completely against gravity and logic.

“Hello.” Her voice was soft but held a certain authority. “Come and join me up here, please. It’s so much easier than shouting across this realm.”

The woman waved her hand again, the stone and plants shifted into a pathway up to the top of the stone. Verona and Kal let Anton take the first step up, following him closely.

“So this is the man that’s got Tethra all bothered.” The woman chuckled, laying her bow and quiver down next to her. “Please have a seat. I find it annoying to have such important talks while standing. Sitting can make things so much easier.”

Three small flat stones rose behind them. The woman produced four thick furs and passed over three.

“I didn’t think the Demi-God of Beasts would have control over the earth.” Anton quipped as he took his seat. With the furs, it was surprisingly comfortable.

“In this dream, I can make a few changes that are beyond my power.” She crossed her legs and scratched her toes. “Unless you’d like to sit on some rabbits or something. I can arrange that, if you’d like.”

Four large rabbits shuffled through the short grass. They looked like baby Thumpers, Anton couldn’t see their teeth.

“What we have is fine. I was just curious, is all.”

“They have quite soft pelts. If you wanted some you could just hunt the Thumpers to the south of Atros.” The woman coughed. “My name is Fliodher, Demi-Gods of Beasts. I am pleased to meet you three. Would you like something to eat?”

A small fire burst out of the stone in front of them. She produced skewered meat and held them over the fire. The smell of roasting meat filled the air. Could they actually eat in this realm or would it simply just be for the taste?

“I didn’t expect that you would contact us the first night.”

“I’ve been wanting to contact you all for some time now.” Fliodher stretched her arms over her head, deliberately allowing her clothes to ride high. “But Nithroel wouldn’t like that so I had to go the long way. First talking to Esperit, who spoke with the witch woman-”

“Ferula?” Kal asked. Verona would have asked but her eyes were fixed firmly on the cooking prize, something Fliodher found humorous.

“Indeed. Not that she worships any of us, but she can still commune from time to time.” Fliodher slapped her thighs. “Anyway, it took long enough but you’re finally all here. How is that tail of yours, Anton?”

Anton hadn’t wrapped his tail around his waist and simply let it trail behind him. He picked it up, it still felt slightly stiff and difficult to control, and twirled the thin ends.

“So far it’s alright.” He glanced at Fliodher. “Do you know anything about this?”

“Not really.” Fliodher sighed. “Only that you’ve been corrupted by a strange power.”

Fliodher vanished, not in a puff of smoke but she simply ceased to be. Anton felt warm hands rub near the base of his tail. Fliodher stood behind him as gently rubbed the base, where the scales and his skin merged together. She had a strange animalistic smell to her, not entirely unpleasant.

“Fascinating,” Fliodher mumbled. “But I cannot reverse this. Perhaps Kronique could.” Fliodher shrugged, gave the tail a final pat before returning to her original position. “He wouldn’t know what it is but I think he could reverse it.”

Anton chuckled. “Our knowledge of the Old Gods is rather limited I’m afraid.”

Fliodher titled her head. “Even when all three of you have glyphs markings that large. Especially Jira’s.”

“Not entirely intentional,” Verona grumbled. “I would have preferred just about anything else, though I won’t deny that it’s powerful.”

“Well…” Fliodher rotated the roasting meat. “Kronique is the God of Time and Prophecies. Though it would be tough he could reverse that.”

“Then-”

Fliodher pursed her lips. “That’s never going to happen. Never. He’s thrown his lot in with Nithroel.” She sighed and rotated the meat once again. “And one of her most ardent allies. It’ll take a true miracle to change his allegiance.”

“A god that can see the future?” Anton groaned, rubbing his cheeks. “There’s no way we can win against that.”

“It’s not that bad.” Fliodher passed out the meat skewers. The juices dripped from the meat, disappearing before reaching the ground or onto his clothes. Fliodher began devouring the food at a speed that would put Verona to shame.

“He can’t see everything,” Fliodher spoke with a full mouth. “If he focuses all his strength he can see about ten or so days into the future, with each day it becomes vaguer until it’s just a wild guess.”

“That’s still pretty bad.” Kal mused.

“It’s the prophecies you need to be careful about.” Fliodher forcefully swallowed too much food at once. “They can see far, far into the future. But…Here’s the thing. Kronique doesn’t have any real control over them. Think that he’s just writing things that come to him during a drug induced fever dream. Some of the time it’s complete nonsense…Until it happens and then it makes perfect sense. His Oracles spend their entire lives trying to understand them.”

“Anything about us?” Anton asked softly. “How we’re going to ruin things for Nithroel and all her friends.”

Fliodher laughed. “No. He can only have a maximum of three at any one time. And none of those are regarding you. They’re all focused on the Wood Elves and their survival. What a surprise.”

“That’s a relief.” Anton bit into the succulent food. “You don’t have problems with us eating meat?” Fliodher raised a brow. “Since you’re the Demi-God of Beasts.”

“Absolutely not.” Fliodher threw the stick into the flame. “Beasts kill, die and mate every day. It is simply the way of nature and of the hunt. It’s only when unnecessary pain and cruelty are applied that I get angry.”

“Since you’re talking to us…”

“You haven’t been cruel, to the animals at least.” Fliodher shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me what you do to your fellow humans, beast-kin, Dark Elves or whatever.”

“Thanks for the food.” Verona smiled, wiping away the juices. “Is there any animal that we can hunt for this?”

“If you are able to travel to the Frindal Emirate you could. It’s a type of whale that lives near the shallows. Very difficult to hunt, even for them.”

“I’ve never tasted whale before.” Anton mused.

“In this world or the previous?” Fliodher smiled sweetly, nestling her head between her hands.

“Both. But I think that’s a good time to get to the point of this meeting.” Anton looked at the skewer. “If anything I get the feeling you just wanted to have someone to eat with.”

Fliodher sighed dramatically, throwing her feet towards the fire. “Most Gods are quite stuck up at times, do their own thing and don’t have much time for each other. I do see Jira from time to time.” Verona tensed. “She’s always up for a good hunt.”

Fliodher stared up into the blue void. A longing washed over her eyes, for something she had lost. They shared a glance before Fliodher returned.

“My mind does tend to wander. I suppose since I’m not on a hunt…” Fliodher shook her head. “You see what I mean? Nithroel…”

Fliodher removed her pelt hood. Deep gouges covered the left side of her skull. A fresh wound. Was that even possible for a god?

A leftover from the battle in the White Realm? Or, since she’s the Demi-God of Beasts, is that how she lost control over the Kobolds?

“Nithroel did this.” Fliodher winced as she touched the wound. Blood stained her fingers, causing a frown to crease her face. “I can’t heal it properly. Not that it weakens me but…”

“Revenge? That’s your reason?”

Fliodher covered her head. “Just one reason. But a damn important one. As the Demi-God of Beasts, I can aid you in ways your four cannot. My Glyph allows the bearers to more easily commune and tame animals. But since none of you three can, and there’s a fourth with you but she can’t bear a Glyph, it will be slightly difficult to help you directly. Not that that’s a problem, Nithroel will be coming for me again if I were to help Tethra’s disciple. Or if she felt her taint on me.”

Fliodher touched the wound again.

“Did she take the Kobolds from you?” Fliodher’s eyes snapped to him, filled with a primal rage. “They definitely seem more like a beast than something from the forest.”

“And they made their camps on the grasslands near Atros,” Verona added. She frowned lightly. “Doesn’t that mean they aren’t under your…”

“Dominion?” Anton asked.

“They were. They were.” Fliodher sneered. “But they did live in the forests too. That gave us joint ownership. But, Nithroel being Nithroel, wanted more.”

“Just like the Fire Elves.”

Fliodher glumly nodded. “Indeed.” She shook her head. “See how easy it is for me to get distracted?”

Maybe I can get some information out of her, if her head’s a little muddled up.

“Did Nithroel kill them all?”

“All?” Fliodher scratched her chin. “Not all, no. But most. I know that Esperit wants to bring them back into the light but that’s taking a while…” Fliodher snapped her fingers. “That’s why she wanted you, I think. Stratos, what did he want again?”

“Is she okay?” Verona whispered.

Anton tapped her hand, he didn’t want her to stop just yet.

“Stratos, I forgot what he wanted, and Tethra…She wanted to finish what we started long ago when Nithroel stopped-” Fliodher clamped her mouth shut. “Oh no. Please don’t tell them that I said that! I’m not supposed to tell anyone, let alone mortals.”

I wonder if your erratic nature is affecting the beasts of the world.

“I can keep a secret.” Anton smiled. “But what can you do to help us against Nithroel?”

Fliodher rubbed her temple again. The small fountain shifted and changed, the running water turned flat and shimmered into a portal. A dark cave emerged, the sound and spray of the sea bursting through the lower side of the image. Out of the cave, a large wolf’s head emerged, a wolf’s head covered in black feathers trimmed with a shimmering aqua blue. It moved out of the shadows, sniffed at the air and gripped a paw on the stone. The creature pulled itself out of the cave; it was a giant feathered wolf but something black and leathery grew out of its back. Wings. Bat wings. Small claws along the wing gripped lightly on the stone and tried to help drag the wolf creature into the light. Another bat wolf landed at the cavern entrance, its wings stretched out many times wider than its body and growled at the other. The first collapsed and whimpered loudly, the second nuzzled its head and pushed it back into the cave. The second’s tail, also covered in black and blue trimmed feathers, dropped very low, almost between its legs, as it slunk into the cave.

“That,” Fliodher sighed, “Is a Chirok. I think you would call them a mix between a wolf and a bat.”

“And a bird thrown in for good measure too,” Anton noted.

Fliodher laughed, an honest laugh. “I know. But one of them is very sick, as you can probably see. If you were to help them I’m sure that they, and their cubs, would follow you.” Fliodher winked dramatically. “Chirok’s are ferocious in a fight and can fly almost silently. I don’t know how that’s going to help you but I’m sure that you’ll think of something.”

“Being able to fly would really help.” Anton mused. “We could drop off our portal stones just about anywhere.”

“Unfortunately this is all I can do for now.” Fliodher shrugged. “Nithroel will notice if I do too much. But if there’s any more that I can send I’ll let you know. I can speak with you three at any time…within reason.”

Fliodher clapped her hands. “That’s about all I can give-”

“Hang on.” Anton raised his hand. “Where are these Chirok’s?”

“What? Oh, they’re on The Shadow Isles, that’s why I was so happy to talk with you so soon.”

The image in the waterfall changed once again. It drew back, further and further, until it stopped to reveal The Shadow Isles from the sky. The thick mist had completely disappeared and showed the Isles in all of its glory. Unfortunately, Anton could see the devastation unleashed by the Goblins. The three most northern islands were almost completely dark. Anton felt some parallel to a waring peninsula on Earth. Along the Mainland a clear division had been carved, a tiny blip of light had pushed forward, where they had attacked the previous day and established a measure of control. If this was current Anton’s summons were doing their work.

“It’s right here.” Fliodher pointed to the island left of the Goblin infested lands. The image zoomed in to show a small port city nearby with a forked shaped jetty, three large Dark Elf ships docked. “How you get there is going to be up to you.”

“Can you let us use this?” Kal pointed to the waterfall.

“No. Not without dragging you into a dream every night. And that would be very taxing on you all. It’ll take you about ten days before you can meet me again. Or any god for that matter.”

“What about Perytons?” Anton asked. “Luna’s the only one we have. Or did Nithroel take them from you as well?”

Fliodher’s eye twitched. That was sufficient for an answer.

“We could take the Jaguar’s to this Island.” Verona began. “It’s still controlled by the Dark Elves so it should be fine. So long as they still want us helping.”

“Gerin’s not the happiest with us.” Kal mused.

“Better that than every Dark Elf dies.” Anton frowned at the image. “Fliodher, could you just take us out a bit more please?”

Fliodher looked confused but did as she was bid. Anton raised his hand when the northern half of The Shadow Isles was in full view.

“With the Mainland Clans joining the fight our role will be far more limited.” Anton began. “But we still should destroy the bridges linking these Islands together. Stop them from reinforcing one another. And once the war’s over they can just be rebuilt, they only appear to be made from that obsidian stone. I’m sure they can find more.”

“Or just use normal stone.” Kal offered.

“Get the Chirok’s back to Atros, I’m sure everyone’s going to love them, commandeer a ship and destroy the…What’s that?”

Anton pointed to the center of the three Goblin infested Islands. The Green Moon Clan’s Island was seemingly identical to the other infested islands except for one small source of light to the northernmost tip of the island. Though the Goblin infested lands were mostly dull, apart from a few scant lights, the northern tip still burned bright.

“Could you go closer towards that point?”

“Sure…”

The image began to zoom in, Fliodher snapped her eyes upwards. “Oh shit. Looks like I’ve gone too far, again. I’m not supposed to use this when I’m with mortals, except for a few seconds just to show a general location. They’re going to be pissed when they get here.”

“Who?”

Fliodher drew her bow. “Who do you think? There happens to be one God that hates me and you.”

Anton stood up, trying to find what Fliodher was looking at in the endless blue void. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Once you’re gone the dream will collapse anyway. Nithroel’s not going to fight me on my grounds, not after last time. Got a few things prepared for her.”

“Aren’t your dreams safe?” Verona asked. She hovered a hand over her waist, snapping her fingers upon realising she had no magic. Strangely Anton could still feel a slight charge in his tail underneath the stiff sensation.

“So long as we don’t interfere with the wider world.” Fliodher nodded at the waterfall. “We aren’t allowed to interfere with the mortal world like that, with things beyond our domain. Shit. I knew I should have just drawn a map. Stupid me.”

Fliodher reached into her waist, pulling out a piece of paper. “I’d already done that! I hate this wound, makes me do such stupid things. Stupid.”

Fliodher chucked the piece of paper away. With a wave of her hand the fire disappeared, she stepped over the spot and brought them into a hug.

“Good luck, you three.” She pulled Anton down for a brief kiss. Verona and Kal were furious but Fliodher held her lips to his ear. “If you ever get a chance to strike Nithroel down make sure to tell me. You get back what she stole from me and you can do whatever you want to me. I’ll be more than just your little slave.”

Fliodher smiled and pushed them back. Where there was once stone and ground now there was nothing. A calming darkness overcame them, Anton grabbed Verona and Kal tight, as they fell back into the void.

Chapter 137 - Vol 4 - Shadows in the Sand

Chapter 137:

Verona watched the sea spray lap at the jetty of the Sky Clearers. Their jetty was identical to the one shown by Fliodher. If the vision, or dream or whatever it really was, held true there would be some impressively large creatures hiding in a nearby cave. Why the local Dark Elves hadn’t run away or chased it off was a mystery.

“It’s a very dangerous beach.” The Sky Clearers mayor before continued speaking. “Strange creatures leap out of the water and attack the fishermen. And the forest’s not safe either. We cannot guarantee your safety.”

“We have business on that beach,” Verona stated adamantly. “So we have to go there.”

“I’m not going to stop you.” The Dark Elf stepped back. “But we don’t have the men to save you if you get into trouble.”

“Not any more, right?” Verona asked Ceccitol.

“Some of the warriors will be returning in the next few days.” Ceccitol received astonished looks from the assembled Dark Elves. “Reinforcements from the Mainland Clans are filling the holes in the defences and will allow those heavily wounded to return home.”

“How did Gerin manage that?” Another Dark Elf asked. “They wouldn’t do anything for us unless they had to.”

“They’ve had a change of heart,” Tuccac spoke softly. “Thanks to the humans and Beast-kin we brought.”

“Unbelievable…”

“Can we see the beach now?” Verona asked.

The Dark Elf sighed but agreed nonetheless. As they travelled through the port city Verona could only despair at the state of the Island Clans. The DuskReavers were actually quite well off; the number of fighting men she saw could be counted on one hand, the majority of fighters were women, and too often she saw children carrying weapons and wielding armour. Gerin might have been upset with Anton for removing the Elders but it was ultimately the right choice, of that she was sure.

Verona tapped Kal’s arm. “Can you see somewhere safe for the portal? I’m sure Anton wants to be a part of this.”

“…Fliodher kissed him.” Kal frowned. “I suppose that’s what you felt when someone turns up with bigger breasts than you.”

Verona chuckled. “Oh stop…And yes. I suppose a building will do.”

Their current force only consisted of themselves and twenty DuskReaver warriors. With Verona and Kal they had all the strength they should need, not that they expected anything to happen. Most people didn’t know the Mist Walker Elders were no longer in The Shadow Isles. Those that did had a vested interest in that knowledge not leaving their lips

Tuccac found a secluded area behind what was once a clothing store. Verona established the portal and clasped her hand over her ring. Before she could think a word the portal flashed, her heart raced for a moment, as Anton stepped through.

“We haven’t even contacted you yet.” Verona pulled a slightly delirious Anton off the portal.

“I was just standing on the thing waiting for you.” Anton hugged her tight. “I wanted to see what happened.”

“And?”

“And I just waited there. I was just chatting with Cetina and then I went through. We already knew that but I wanted to see if anything happened. Oh, by the way, Cetina’s coming through too. And another guest.”

“Another?”

Cetina flashed through the portal a moment later. The annoyingly tall Bebbezzarian accepted Kal’s hand to pull her off the portal. The portal flashed again. This time a woman wearing bright red stepped out, a white glove holding her temple hard, throwing back waves of bright red flowing hair.

“I’m going to be sick.” Duchess Belinda groaned. “Neither of you told me it was that bad.”

“You get used to it.” Cetina helped Duchess Belinda off the portal.

“That was terrible. I don’t know how this is going to be useful for transporting soldiers.”

“It doesn’t last that long,” Anton said.

Belinda continued rubbing her temples until the creases on her face softened. “I see.”

She stopped and looked around, taking a step back to look at the sky. A strange smile wormed its way over her face, something Verona never thought she would see on Belinda. Childlike wonder.

“This is The Shadow Isles, isn’t it? We’re actually here. The land of the Dark Elves.”

“Did you doubt us?” Verona asked.

Belinda paused. “No. But to actually see it. How many humans have seen this place?”

“The Sky Clearer’s?” Ceccitol ran a hand through her hair. “Probably four in the past hundred winters. Or longer than that.”

“Wow…” Belinda laughed. “This makes the headache worth it.”

“Is the portal safe?” Verona asked. “Now there’s no one on the other side.”

Anton gently patted her shoulder. “We’ve stopped at a small city close to the Black Rider’s Fortress. A Knight Order from the south has sent some scouts ahead, they’ve been convinced by King, or Prince, Leo to join his side. So we were going to move as one group. It’s a lot safer that way.”

“And if it’s a trap?” Kal looked rather worried. If everything failed in Qaiviel they’d be left without a home, once again for Kal.

“I’ve been assured that it’s not,” Anton said. “As far as I’m aware the Knight Orders aren’t particularly happy about their representatives being slaughtered in the throne room. Unless they’ve been possessed they’re pretty much on our side. We’ve also hidden the portal extremely well and I’ve paid Conrad an extra coin just to make sure.”

Belinda chuckled. “I don’t want to stare down a thousand charging Knights.”

“Are you just here to have a look at the Isles?” Kal asked. “Or is there something else?”

“I’d like to see if there are any opportunities for trading with the Dark Elves.” Belinda stepped away from the portal stones as Anton began collecting them. “If that can take things as easily as people then goods are certainly no problem. With, of course, a tidy profit for Atros and your burgeoning little empire. Hopefully we won’t ever come into conflict.”

Is that a threat? No, that’s too obvious. Perhaps a warning that we stay out of each other’s way.

“I certainly hope so.” Anton patted the bag of stones. “Do we know where this beach is? I don’t think it’s a good idea for Belinda to stay long, just in case.”

“This way.” Ceccitol led them back into the port streets.

Though they were clearly an oddity before now they were active gossip amongst the remaining Dark Elves. Every Dark Elf had long, jet black hair, without exception. Some girls looked longingly at their own, like they didn’t know it was possible to have anything but.

Ceccitol followed the mayor’s directions away from the port and along the rocky beach. This was nothing like the golden sands of Seocuria or Bebbezzar, more like the rocky stones that bordered the mountain range of Dragon Tooth Bay. Small rocks crunched underneath her boots, some were covered in a thin slime and were extremely slippery. More than once she found herself teetering on the edge of falling over. She wanted to ask how Anton was doing, his legs weren’t exactly his own anymore, but letting Belinda know of his change probably wasn’t a good idea. Sure, she didn’t care that Kal was a half-breed, but where did that tolerance end? As for Belinda, she was taking everything quite well. She had more near slips and spills than anyone else. Two Dark Elves followed her, hands ready to catch her if she slipped, but they were unnecessary.

When the port was almost out of sight the scouting Dark Elves signalled for everyone to stop. Though they only had a few moments to look at the cave’s surroundings in Fliodher dream this was undoubtedly the right place.

“Something ahead.” The scout whispered. “In one of the caves. Lots of seal bones are lying outside, a lot of bones.”

“Sounds like the place.” Anton mused. “Did you see anything that looked like…Well, a giant flying dog?”

The scouts blinked twice before shaking their heads.

“Maybe he’s out.” Anton gently clambered up the rocks for a vantage point. “If his mate is ill he’ll want to stay with her, so he’ll only go out when necessary. I’m sure he’ll be nervous and pretty stressed too. So, does that mean we wait or go in early?”

“If he finds us with his sick partner he’d go crazy,” Verona said. “I know I would.”

Anton nodded. “Let’s get a bit closer and wait for him to come back.”

They moved to the next outcropping of stone. Verona clearly saw the cave and the pile of bones tossed to one side. Vivid memories of early Atros came back, mostly unpleasant ones.

“If she’s sick he shouldn’t be too far away.” Anton mused as he sat down. The others took their seats as well, Belinda looked around before settling to sit with them. Her red dress was even less camouflaged than Cetina’s but she didn’t appear to care that it would get dirty or damaged.

Verona and Kal nestled close to Anton, Cetina nearby, as they waited for the Chirok to return.

Times passed slowly before Kal tapped Anton’s hand. In the dim, mist-covered sky a black blot descended. The Chirok approached at tremendous speed, only extending its wings at the last moment, bringing the beast to a sudden stop just before reaching the cave. Small claws on the front edge of its large wings, Anton called them bat wings, scratched on the stones as it ran into the cave with a giant animal in its mouth slightly smaller than its head. Only then did Verona realise how large the Chirok actually was. It was far larger than the adult Peryton or Griffin, probably almost twice as large. How big were the wings?

“So The Shadow Isles have seals?” Anton mused.

“They live on small stone outcrops in the sea.” Ceccitol rose up. “The same stones that most ships run into.”

“A lot of wrecks out there? I bet there’s some gold and silver just lurking beneath the waves.”

Ceccitol chuckled. “Only if you can see in the dark and don’t need to breathe.”

If only you were single…

“Only a few of us should go forward,” Anton said. “Too many of us and he’ll just panic.”

“I’ll wait here.” Belinda patted the rock, inspecting the tiny grey wet stones stuck to her glove. “I’ll just get in the way. Besides, I just want to see this place. I’m one of the few humans to ever experience this.”

I don’t think all the DuskReavers are happy to have humans here.

Slowly they moved forward, crouching low to make as little noise as possible. The bones of the seals, or whatever they were, reeked of rotten flesh. Could that be a reason why they were sick? Rotten food? Possibly, but animals would have stronger stomachs and they would know, roughly, what was safe to eat.

Thankfully they reached the cavern entrance without alerting the Chiroks. The Dark Elves waved them forward as they leant around the cavern entrance. Two adult Chirok’s moved near the rear of the cave. The male, with the seal still in his mouth, dropped it before the female Chirok. She barely moved, its eyes were glazed and its head moved about listless. The male nuzzled the dead seal towards its mate, she sniffed once before her head rolled onto its side. She began coughing harshly, something Verona never expected to see from a dog and vomited a weak white liquid. The male whimpered; his mate was dying and there was nothing he could do to help.

A tiny squeak came from behind her. She shifted her body and tried to push a baby Chirok forward, though her legs were so weak it was a futile effort. The baby was bigger than Verona was but just as sickly as the mother. Verona spied another five babies behind her. They were barely breathing but alive, just. Seeing tomorrow was incredibly unlikely for them.

“What’s the plan?” Verona tapped Anton’s waist. She could feel the outline of the tail around Anton’s waist. No wonder Rasha could feel it. Maybe there was something to gain from that…

“I…Honestly don’t know,” Anton said. “I’ve never had to get close to something this big that probably wants to rip my head off.” Anton sighed. “And we can’t just walk in there with food.”

“Fliodher will help us.” Kal nodded seriously. “I believe in the Old Gods.”

It did give you happiness. Took a while though.

“I really don’t want to have to kill this thing.” Anton stepped into the cave.

The male Chirok snapped his eyes towards the sudden shift in light. Dozens of teeth, still dripping in blood and fat, snarled at Anton. Whatever Fliodher had done the Chirok didn’t immediately lash out at Anton. Slowly the others moved forward and into the light. The male Chirok backed away, putting himself in front of his mate, while she tried to move but couldn’t muster the strength.

“Shame they can’t understand us,” Anton mumbled.

He raised his hand, whispering for everyone to remove their weapons. Though loathe to part they followed Anton’s instructions. The male Chirok continued to snarl but relaxed ever so slightly.

“Fliodher sent us,” Anton said. “To help you and your mate.” Anton pointed at his sickly female. “We can help you.”

Anton slowly advanced but the Chirok only allowed him to close half the distance. He snarled loudly and Anton stepped back. Verona was very glad to have her blood power right now.

The Chirok backed away slightly but refused to let Anton get any closer. Anton clicked his tongue and scratched his head, at least the Chirok wasn’t about to kill them.

“How about this?”

Anton drew a small dagger, the Chirok snarled at the sight of iron, and cut his hand. For a moment the Chirok’s ears pulled back, its expression questioning before turning right back to hostility.

“I can heal wounds.” Anton’s bloody hand healed itself, the cut knit itself together. “And I can heal your mate and children. I need you to trust me.”

Verona pleaded to the Old Gods, certainly not Jira, that the creature would listen. Slowly the Chirok relaxed but not enough that Verona was entirely content. Anton gently approached, both hands raised and taking very, very small steps. The male Chirok moved out of the way and allowed Anton to reach the sickly female. Her eyes looked at him not in fear but with an emptiness. She was so far gone that she didn’t care or perhaps even understand.

“You’ll be better in no time,” Anton said, the male Chirok responded with a very wet and hot growl.

Anton placed one hand behind his back and lay one against the feathered paw of the female.

“So hot.” Anton mused. “You’re burning up. Poor thing.”

Anton chanted a healing prayer, one that followed the writings of Tethra’s book. Upon finishing the female’s eyes widened, the emptiness gave way to clarity and focus. Slowly she rose up, her legs still shaking slightly, and nuzzled Anton’s face. Anton chuckled nervously as the giant mouth, filled with huge teeth, was right against his. Slowly they relaxed and Anton gently rubbed her snout. She let out a tiny mewl before licking his face. Her tongue was almost as big as his face, leaving him covered in a thin drool. The male Chirok didn’t look too happy with the attention Anton was receiving.

“Let me help your children too.” Anton stepped to the side, both frowned and snarled lightly. “They’re sick like you were, yes? I can heal them.”

The Chirok's shared a glance and allowed Anton to approach. Verona wanted to be there as well, just in case, but her presence would only aggravate the beasts; they clearly considered Anton something they could deal with easily.

Anton knelt by the children and healed them. One by one the baby Chirok’s, far larger than any dog, slowly rose up and began to try and play with Anton. He had to fend off some very intense and curious creatures as he tried to heal the others. With the last baby, Chirok healed Anton stood up and began to scratch their ears. That brought one Chirok to its knees, a leg flailed wildly as its eyes rolled into its skull.

“Okay. Calm down all of you.” Anton laughed. “These are my friends. Do you want to play with them as well?”

Though children and unable to communicate they somehow understood and ran towards them. Verona was a little off-put by their black wings but overall they were rather cute, especially the way the children ran and stopped just before reaching them, their little paws slipping on the stone and grabbing at each other with their wings in an attempt to stop. None were willing to make the first move, content with sniffing at the air surrounding them, rather than playing like they were with Anton. Verona raised out her hand, just as she would with Luna before Anton made a noise. The adult Chirok’s looked at him with a slight tilt to their heads.

“Careful,” Anton said softly. “Don’t go over their heads. They might be curious but you don’t want to be aggressive with them. Try scratching underneath their chins rather than on top of their heads.”

“Why?” Verona still did as she was bid.

“Because it’ll show that you aren’t trying to attack or dominate them. Just trust me.”

Verona reached out for underneath their chin. The baby Chirok’s sniffed at her hand but didn’t back away. Verona’s fingers slipped through the tiny and soft feathers and onto the soft skin underneath. Verona giggled at the warm and soft sensation and the baby Chirok’s expression. It pushed its body closer and forced Verona’s hands to scratch deeper. It wasn’t long before Verona was scratching this baby Chirok like Luna was when she was being aggressively needy. The others soon followed and the babies were mewling and pawing with delight, not afraid to use their wings to get attention.

Anton moved towards them, the adult Chirok’s watching them very closely, and pulled her, Kal and Cetina through. Though he had a smile on his face she knew him well enough to know it was forced.

“There is a slight problem,” Anton said. He looked to the adult Chirok’s watching over their children. “Their sickness wasn’t just caused by some rotten meat or virus. I felt Strega magic in them.”

“What?” Cetina’s cry startled the adults and the children stopped to look at the source. Anton gently waved down the adults so they wouldn’t attack. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I felt the green smoke in them. Far, far less than what you had, Cetina, but it was there. But…It was only in their stomachs.” Anton turned to the adults. “So we just need to find out what they ate.”

“Ferula’s here?” Kal asked.

“I don’t think so.”

Anton approached the male Chirok. It was hesitant but allowed Anton to scratch its snout. It closed its eyes as Anton ruffled the tiny feathers and scratched at the skin underneath.

“So, where did you find the food that made your partner sick?”

---[]---

Verona followed the male Chirok along the beach. Every few steps it would flex its wings before glancing back, remembering it wasn’t going for a hunt. It looked mostly disappointed but continued walking at a very quick pace. After passing over a particularly large rock the Chirok stopped, crouching low and tucking its wings alongside its body.

“Oh.” Anton chuckled as he stood next to the Chirok and patted its side. “That would explain it.”

Lying in a small bay, isolated and sheltered from the sea, lay the corpse of a giant fish resting on its side. Except it wasn’t a fish; it lacked scales and gills and it didn’t appear to have any eyes.

“Is that a Leviathan?” Verona asked. “Like the one off of Graterious.”

“It seems a bit small for that.” Kal drew and readied her bow.

“It’s a whale. And a damn big one at that.”

Ceccitol grunted lightly. “I don’t know why one would come this close to The Shadow Isles.”

“Do they beach themselves?” Anton asked.

“Sometimes they do.” Ceccitol looked at Anton. “But it’s very rare. Normally, if they’re still alive, we push them out to sea, or dead we leave them for the animals. I don’t know what kind of whale this is. I’m not a fisherman. They’d know.”

“Could you send a messenger to the port and ask one to come here?”

A Dark Elf saluted and ran back along the coast. Verona knew he was more than a little happy to be away from the Chirok.

The whale was clearly dead as they approached. Anton pointed out its very small eye, glazed over and shrunken, the small hole on its head that allowed it to breathe, as well as how it fed. Verona was shocked to see the fine bristles it had for teeth. A very strange creature. Would Fliodher send them one of these too? Once she had her strength back from Nithroel, of course.

“Only a few creatures have tried to scavenge it.” Anton mused, touching the hard, leathery skin. “I thought it would have been swarming with creatures…Unless they all died like your mate was about to.”

The Chirok blinked at Anton.

“Show us where you took the meat.”

The beast scampered across the stony beach to the other side of the whale. The Whale’s stomach had been torn open and clearly been attacked by predators. The edges of the skin were torn and had many, many teeth marks.

“And everyone that ate here’s probably dead or dying.” Verona mused.

“Let’s see what’s happening with you.”

Anton held his hand onto the dead whale’s skin and closed his eyes. His eyes snapped to the chest of the whale, underneath a large fin lying limply across its body.

“It’s in its stomach. Something that’s bristling with Strega magic.”

“I’ll get it out.” Verona pushed them back, not that she had much chance with the Chirok. “My hardened blood is perfect for this sort of work.”

Verona directed the shards to its stomach, carefully removing the large bloated organ from the corpse. A shard severed a fleshy tube and Verona dry heaved at the smell. The Chirok sneezed and backed away, flapping its wings in an attempt to dispel the smell.

“That’s more than just rotten fish.” Anton held his nose shut. “How are you doing, Kal?”

“Terrible.” Kal vomited. She snarled as she wiped it away. “A bit better now.”

Anton patted her shoulders. “Keep going. It’s in the stomach somewhere.”

Verona severed the stomach and pulled it free. The fleshy sack rolled and split, releasing more foul smelling liquids and semi-digested slop. Their noses were already accustomed to the smell, perhaps deadened by it. Verona gently cut the stomach open completely and began searching through the remains. It was almost enough to make her vomit when she found something solid within. A small intact sea creature, one that shouldn’t be possible. Verona cleaned it as best she could and held it in front of Anton.

“Some sort of krill.” Anton almost rubbed his beard but remembered the stains on his glove. “Shrimp? But, even I can tell that’s not right.”

“It moves like they did.” Cetina, though suffering from the smell, snarled at the creature.

Now it was free from the whale’s stomach the Krill twitched and tried to escape Verona’s encompassing shards but its movements were wooden and stiff, not like a creature with that many limbs and feelers should move. A limb snapped off as it tried to free itself, a faint trail of green smoke seeped from the wound.

“Cursed shrimp,” Anton said. “To make the whale beach itself? That’s a lot of work. But also cause the flesh to become poisonous? Why would they do that?”

Cetina held Verona’s shoulder hard. “Destroy that thing.”

Verona glanced at Anton who gave a nod. Verona smashed the creature to paste. After a brief puff of green smoke, the creature fell silent and still. Verona dropped it to the ground and pushed the shards that had touched the shrimp far away before relinquishing control. Better to be safe than sorry.

“Was that a good idea?” Kal asked. “Tethra could have told us something more.”

“We definitely shouldn’t be touching anything made by the witches.” Anton shrugged. “Ferula didn’t touch that man in the swamp to corrupt him.”

Cetina grunted and nodded.

“What could the Strega Witches want with this whale?” Anton approached the corpse. “They have a lot of resources; meat, skin and oil…”

“Oil?” Verona raised a brow. “For lamps?”

Anton snapped his fingers. “That’s why its flesh is toxic. It’ll keep the creature relatively in one piece, which means they realised those Krill but didn’t know when it would wash up. Or even if it would wash up and not just sink beneath the waves. But after that…If that’s everything I’ll burn it once we find out what it is.”

Anton pushed them back and away from the stench of the rotten corpse. The Chirok nestled beside them and watched them with its giant eyes. Almost immediately it began acting like an attention starved dog, or a needy Peryton, and slowly shuffled towards them. Anton relented first and scratched his nose. Verona and Kal soon followed.

“You’re just like a big lovely dog, aren’t you?” Anton smiled. “Shame that an easy meal turned out to be so bad for you.”

“You love dogs, don’t you?” Verona asked.

“I do. Though that’s how I lost one of my fingers. Down some dog’s throat, I think.”

“Was that in the far west of Graterious?” Cetina asked. “You were missing it then too.”

“No…Before that.”

Verona saw movement along the beach. Several Dark Elves, one a DuskReaver warrior, moved quickly towards them. Anton rose up and motioned to the whale.

“It’s,” The mayor took a deep breath. “Excuse me. It’s a Birx Whale. They roam the seas of the world but come near The Shadow Isles to give birth. We see them from the ports, they move quite close to the shore.”

“Anything special about them? Some valuable resource or material?” Anton waved to the whale. “Someone did this. The poor creature didn’t want to beach itself on purpose.”

“Well…They do have some oil that’s very useful.” The Mayor pointed to the front of the whale’s head. “It’s useful for magical rituals, or so I’m told.”

Verona poked the head of the whale with a blood shard. While the rest was still quite tough and hard the head was hollow. Verona cut the head open to find a giant cavity. Her shards didn’t have to cut that hard along the middle, a cut already ran along its length. Though she had no idea what these creatures were supposed to be the cavity was clearly unnatural; small pieces of yellow fat remained attached to the muscle, bones and skin of the head.

“What is this?” Kal asked.

Anton pulled Verona and Kal close. “Whales were hunted on my world for their fat, to make oil among other things, but we didn’t have magic back there.”

“The Strega’s could easily afford some oil.” Verona shook her head. “As you say, that’s a lot of effort to get some fat.”

“Indeed.” Anton patted their shoulders and turned to the mayor. “Do you know anything about magical…Have you heard of something called the Frangitur Ira? It’s a small flat stone with red markings.”

“No…” The mayor frowned lightly. “But…There are a lot of artefacts from the United Empire on the Storm Strider Clan. Before too. They might have the things you’re looking for. But they’ve fallen to the Goblins.”

“The Storm Striders live, lived, in the island beyond the Green Moon Clan’s,” Ceccitol said.

“Oh.” Verona chuckled. “Guess that’s off limit for us then. But,” Verona pointed towards the port. “It’s not like we can’t get some ships to travel there.”

“We may need to commandeer a ship,” Anton said. “How many sailors do you have left?”

The mayor shook his head. “Not many. Most of the fighters were forced into the war.”

“That’s easy to fix. We’ll bring some from the front.” Anton smiled. “I’m sure they’ll be pleased to be sailing rather than fighting. And we can also find out what we saw at the Green Moon’s Island.”

I wonder if Fliodher is alright. If she got into a fight with Nithroel she might not come out unscathed. And the last thing we need is that woman to become even more powerful.

Anton raised his hand towards the dead whale. Underneath its corpse a ring of fire slowly emerged, the rocks turned red and the seawater boiled from the heat. Verona pushed the others back as the pillar of flame erupted, consuming the whale and everything nearby in unbelievable heat. No one spoke a word until nothing but a pile of charred dust and stones remained.

“No more sick Chirok’s.” Anton scratched the beast’s nose. “Or anyone else. Not much we can do for those though.”

“Let’s get you back to your family.” Verona took over patting the Chirok. “Then you can come to Atros with us. There’s nothing to get sick from, lots of room in the sky and there should be lots of things to hunt. Would you like that?”

The Chirok began panting and sneezed once. Verona didn’t understand what that meant but it seemed happy, a good start at least.

“Feeding them might be a problem.” Anton mused. “Most of the stuff we have isn’t meat.”

Verona laughed. “So long as they don’t go after Luna it’s fine.”

---[]---

The Chirok family and the remaining Dark Elves had emerged from the cave by the time they returned. Belinda, her red dress unmissable against the grey and blue, stood still, completely swarmed by the baby Chirok’s. The adult female sat at the edge of the cave and watched their children play with the human and Dark Elves. Now they had spent some time with each other they weren’t concerned with each other’s presence. Fliodher had made them more docile. Or perhaps they were just like all dogs and loved a good scratch.

“This has been a truly remarkable day,” Belinda said, ruffling the feather coat of a baby Chirok. “I spoke with some of the Dark Elves and it looks like there are great opportunities for trade and profit, for everyone. But I must be returning to Qaiviel soon.”

She looked towards the faint light from the sun. “I’m sure the Knights would have almost joined us.”

Verona tapped Anton’s hand. “When Belinda reaches the Black Rider Fortress you’ll want us all there, right?”

“Indeed.” Belinda gave a final pat. “Their feathers are beautiful. Such a shame that I can’t take some with me. I know they’d sell for a high price, for feathers that is.”

Anton leant in close. “Those cloaks of yours are going to become the fashion of Atros, I’m sure. Just wait until they see what my Blood Berserker can do.”

Verona swatted him away, a smile creeping over her face. “Stop it you.”

Anton established a portal back to Qaiviel. Belinda smiled at the sight.

“This will make us all a lot of money.” Belinda scrunched her hands tight in anticipation. “Think of how much traders will pay for this. Goods from all around the world in an instant…And a few headaches, but that’s inconsequential.”

Belinda bowed her head to the Dark Elves. “Thank you for showing me the beauty of your land. I hope that I may visit again. It is like nothing I have ever seen before.”

The mayor didn’t entirely know how to respond but returned the bow. Duchess Belinda stepped through and disappeared in a flash of light.

Anton swapped the portal back to Atros. “After we’ve got the Chirok’s set up we’ll head start blowing up the land Bridges. We’ll find out what’s happening on the Green Moon Island on the way.”

“And what the Strega Witches were after with that whale,” Kal added. Cetina was more than eager to stop anything those witches might be up to.

Anton stepped through the portal. Verona found herself being drawn to the north, across the crashing and rolling waves. She began wondering if the entire Goblin threat was caused by the witches to get at a fragment of the Frangitur Ira, whatever that really was.

What the hell are they planning to do with it? Make more people like Anton is now? Or something far worse. What could that even be?

Verona had no answers as the waves continued to crash against the stones, only hoping they would reveal themselves before it was too late.

Chapter 138 - Vol 4 - The Green Moon

Chapter 138:

Anton watched over the calm seas from the safety of the Dark Elf ship. Unlike The Snowberry, and other human ships, the Dark Elf ship slipped through the water with barely a wave left in its wake. While it excelled in speed and subtly it lacked in size and cargo capacity. It could only hold a fraction of a human ship. Cetina leant against the dark wooden railing and watched the fish swim past. Many came up close to the hull, curious about the strange object cutting through their home, some even following for a time, before darting away. Verona and Kal were back in Atros, trying to get the Chirok’s to settle in. They had come without much fuss, especially the children, and appeared to enjoy the change of scenery. With a few pieces of meat, they became extremely compliant. The Dwarves, who were afraid they might be seen as a morsel of food, had designed a wooden pen for the Chirok’s where they could live in peace. The Chirok’s obeyed their words, Fliodher touch still lingered, and appeared to understand that people were not food. That was very easy to convey after they had full bellies. Bertram had complained about the increase in meat demand but the portals could accommodate the increase, as well as buying some more animals and food.

Everything was going well but Anton’s mind wasn’t even thinking about the gift from Fliodher, however interesting.

His mind focused on the dead whale and the green Strega Magic he felt within. The shell around his neck had begun trembling, sending rhythms through his chest, before even touching the hard skin. It was difficult to search through the corpse but he couldn’t determine what the magic was supposed to do, other than looking at what happened to the unfortunate whale.

“Any word from Ferula?” Cetina asked.

Her back twisted as she tried to restrain her anger. She wasn’t watching the fish just for the fun of it.

Ferula’s communication pen lay before Anton. He didn’t want to give her something akin to the rings. However, they had waited some time without any response.

“Not yet.” Anton tapped the dark red marbled wood table. “Hasn’t even moved. I’m wondering if more Bounty Hunters turned up. More than thirty this time.”

“They took them down so easily,” Cetina mumbled. “Unless they had an entire army.”

“I wonder if the mages that Graterian commander… General Ricimer was dragging around could beat her.”

Cetina touched her eyepatch. “They did act very oddly while the Demons were invading. Leaving it to us.”

Anton tapped the table again. “I don’t think they knew about our magic then. But…”

The pen began to move. Cetina pushed herself off the wooden railing and moved to Anton’s side. She stood a pace further back than Verona or Kal would stand.

Hello Anton. Do you want me to come to you? I can tell that you’re on a boat near The Shadow Isles.

You can follow this magic?

Only where it’s going, not what it’s saying.

No idea if that’s a lie. We did leave it with her so she’s probably poked the damn thing.

I wanted to know what use Brix whale oil might be of use.

The pen remained stationary for some time.

That oil is useful in creating potions and concoctions, your Glyph Magic doesn’t have to worry about such things but we do. Though any whale oil will usually work for that. Brix oil is extremely potent when creating unbinding rituals. Like removing a ward or protective spell. And most importantly there’s almost no chance of the ward activating and killing the unbinder. It’s quite useful, I have some if you wish.

“Looks like they are after those artefacts.” Anton rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think we can defeat them. Maybe some apprentices and adepts but I can’t imagine beating someone as powerful as Ferula.”

Cetina frowned deeply.

“And if they attack Atros it’s all over.”

“We can’t trust Ferula,” Cetina spoke very softly. “She still wants those stones. She said the others became too extreme, not that she gave up.”

“What to say…”

Thank you, Ferula. I think we’ll be fine from here.

I’ll investigate The Shadow Isles, see if they’re up to something there and deal with them if they are. You won’t even know we are there. Oh, by the way, everyone is recovering well.

That’s good. Those burns were horrific.

She has learned the error of her ways. She will require more training before she’s sent out again.

Probably should have done that the first time.

Good luck, Anton.

And to you, Ferula.

The pen fell silent and still. Anton wrapped the paper up and returned them to his pack. Cetina continued to look a little miffed but understood why they had to speak with Ferula. They had to know, even if it could instigate some sort of internal Strega conflict.

“Hello?” Verona popped her head from below deck. “How are you two going?”

She and Kal stepped onto the deck.

“Good.” Anton pointed forward. “We’re almost at the northern point of the Green Moon Island. I was about to contact you. Everything well back home?”

“Absolutely.” Verona leapt up and pecked his lips. “Dealt with the Chirok’s, they seem happy, and a few other things.”

“Other things?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Verona smiled. “A few people were getting uppity while you were gone and they just needed a little reminding who was in command.”

“Tell me about that later,” Anton said firmly. “I need to know everything I can.”

“We will.”

“It really wasn’t anything bad.” Kal kept her face flat. “As you said, you can’t expect the humans and Beast-kin to just get along right away.”

Anton nodded. There wasn’t much he could do right now, his attention and resources were already stretched to their limit. Preferably he would remain in Atros to settle everyone into their new life but things had a way of disrupting those plans.

“I’m keeping Luna away from the Chirok’s.” Verona chuckled. “Don’t want them to think that they’re dinner.”

“Excuse me, Anton.” Tuccac approached, his bow ready. “But we’re almost at the port. There are hundreds of Goblins watching us from the cliffs.”

The Green Moon’s Island was far rockier than the others. While it held significant vegetation there were only impassable cliffs and boulder laden inaccessible beaches. A number of Goblin corpses in various stages of decomposition lay in the rocks. Some were emaciated and looked longingly at the grass and shrubs above, there was no way back up.

“I’ve never been but my father said the soil is poor, for both plants and mining. The people are tough and hardy but…”

“Everyone wishes for more.” Anton finished. “So they turned to piracy. Doesn’t look like there’s much here.”

A small lighthouse came into view at the very end of the island, similar to the DuskReavers but ruined and broken. Goblins still idly wandered near the piles of stone but Anton doubted they had caused the destruction. The Green Moon clan had been forbidden to own ships, why care about a lighthouse?

The Dark Elf ship entered a small bay beyond the lighthouse, the source of the light was as clear as day.

A fortress lay at the end of the bay but nothing like Anton had seen, at least nothing like in this world. The giant fortress lay before them, easily as large as Nonbur’n, made from the same dark obsidian stone as the land bridges. What immediately drew Anton’s attention was the dock built into the fortress. There were no ships anchored, in a dock with enough room for ten very large ships, but the dock itself was well maintained, not something he expected from a clan banned from holding ships. A long archway stuck out from the fortress facing the dock. Though hidden in shadow Anton could make out the fall wall. A large and well-built wooden wall. One wide enough for a ship to pass through.

“Clever.” Anton chuckled. He only received questioning looks. “The Green Moon Clan didn’t stop making ships. They just moved it underneath cover, inside the fortress. It’s certainly large enough to hold ten ships. And that’s all you’d need for raiding. Reminds me of a place from back home. They did this too.”

And then Rome destroyed them. But the point still stands.

Ceccitol smiled. “The only way to see it is by coming straight in. And they could pass it off by saying there are damaged sections of the fortress.”

“The Green Moon clan were always devious.” Tuccac smiled. “I suppose that’s what made them such great pirates.”

Above the large wooden gate, lights flickered in the hundreds of windows overlooking the bay. The way the lights were established, at regular intervals, told him it wasn’t the work of the Goblins. Something moved past the light at walking speed. Anton enhanced his eyes and saw it was a Dark Elf. He was tired and haggard but very much alive. He glanced out and continued on his patrol. The next window he stopped and stuck his head out. Anton felt compelled to wave, that alone would show they weren’t the normal hostiles bearing down on them. The Dark Elf stood completely still before something snapped him back to reality. He ran and disappeared deep into the fortress. Worryingly, despite the enormity of the fortress, Anton could only see one Dark Elf on patrol.

“Now they know we are here.”

“The Green Moon survived?” Ceccitol scrunched her eyes. “But they’re all dead. How, how can they be alive after all this time? They’re in the heart of the infestation. It all started here.”

“A fortress like that could easily hold off a massive assault,” Cetina replied. “With enough supplies, it could last a long time.”

“Especially if the Goblins attention is towards the south,” Kal added.

The docks were not free of Goblins. A small number of Green’s roamed over the wood and stone dock. Anton waved to Ceccitol to attack, there wasn’t a need to bring down a potential horde on their little ship. The Green Goblins, blind as they were, fell without knowing what struck them. The sailors jumped onto the dock and fastened the ropes. Anton was glad to be on solid ground, even though it had only been for a short time.

Anton summoned two large Lightning Crow and directed it into the sky to attack any Goblin within range. While it wouldn’t stop the hordes it would thin them down and give the defenders some breathing room.

“Do we wait?” Verona pointed to a huge pile of rocks barricading a small door. One of the rocks was bigger than the door itself. “Don’t think they can break down the stones from this side.”

“Let’s wait a moment,” Anton said. “I don’t think the Green Moon aren’t prepared for sneaky intruders.”

The rumble of lightning bolts, raining down from the two circling large Lightning Crows, echoed over the fortress. From the relative safety of the dock, Anton saw the Goblins run away from the fortress and into the relative safety of the forest. Their siege of the fortress was strange; despite being so deep in Goblin controlled territory their assault seemed half-hearted and flimsy, not what Anton expected from a horde led by the diminutive Red Goblin.

Verona rested onto Anton’s chest. “Any moment now.”

Cetina’s attention was drawn to a stack of crates near the edge of the dock. It, like everything else, had been attacked by the Goblins but they had failed to break through. On its side lay an insignia, a scimitar next to a crescent moon with a five-pointed star above.

“Frindal Emirate.” Cetina gently kicked the box. “How long were the Green Moon Clan banned from having ships?”

“Before I was born.” Ceccitol grimaced. “So that’s quite a bit for you.”

“I remember seeing something similar to this when I was very young. This is a new symbol for the Frindal Emirate, with the new Sultan…After he took the throne from his brothers and killed them all. There never used to be a star. So within the last ten or so winters.”

“They’d just leave something like that out in the open?” Verona asked before looking up at Anton.

“Maybe they were offloading when the attacks started.” Anton began. “I’d get the ships inside first then worry about this. Unless it’s related somehow.”

Verona glowed red and broke the crate open. An impressive array of weapons lay inside; curved short swords and maces alongside a neat stack of thin daggers. While these were clearly worth some money, and worthwhile to steal, it didn’t explain why they were so far north. The Frindal Emirate was to the south of their continent by many miles.

“Unless they stole it from a Bebbezzarian ship,” Anton said. “That makes more sense.”

“I think these will be ours.” Verona smiled at Cetina. “If they got it from a Bebbezzarian ship there’s one person here they should go to.”

Ceccitol waved to a pair of Dark Elves and loaded the crate onto the ship. There were many more crates littering the dock, it would be rude to just take everything right away.

Kal tapped Anton’s shoulder and pointed towards the fortress. Five shadows moved through the lights towards the debris sealed door. The lower windows were boarded uptight but one came free. A shrouded warrior stuck its head out. Anton waved but only received a quizzical head tilt in return. With clear hesitation, the warrior beckoned them forward.

“Who are you?” The warrior whispered harshly. Every part of his armour had been adjusted to reduce noise to an absolute minimum, padding and soft cloths covered anything that might make a noise.

“We’re here to help,” Anton said. “We’re from the DuskReaver Clan. Can you let us inside?”

“No. Not that we don’t want help. Every passage has been sealed to stop the Goblins getting in, not that it’s stopped them. We could throw down a rope?”

Anton looked to the crates. While they could easily form steps high enough they would allow the Goblins access. However, he had someone that could make something like that with little issue.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Verona chuckled nervously.

“Can you make your blood into a set of stairs?”

“I….Oh. Okay. No problem.” Verona glowed red. “I’ll need a bit more though.”

After Verona had collected enough blood she formed a narrow, hollow staircase of crystallised blood towards the window. Though it was barely wider than a foot it was more than enough for their purpose. The shrouded Green Moon warriors looked on in disbelief but offered no objection. Verona gave a tiny nod and everyone began the ascent. The blood was incredibly smooth to stand on, their boots often felt like they were about to slip, while Anton was having great trouble with his, they all made it inside. Verona took as much blood as she could and released the rest.

“I’d like to see that in the Advanced book.” Verona beamed with pride.

“I knew it would work.” Anton patted her armoured head.

“Is that everyone?” The Shrouded warrior asked.

“Aren’t you worried about us?” Anton asked. “You don’t even know who we are.”

“I’m not worried.” The Shrouded warrior shrugged. “No one would work with those things.”

That’s not entirely true…

The warriors moved to the windows and fastened them tight after taking one quick look along the dock. No Goblins had returned and those they could see were completely unaware of their presence.

“How bad is it?” The warrior asked, removing the cloth head wrapping as a small green tassel came free around his neck.

The male Dark Elf was young, young being relative for a long-lived and youthful race, but had the tell-tale marks of weathered skin from spending a long time on the open sea. The others, two were women, held the same look.

“Let’s start with the introductions.” Ceccitol raised her hand and stepped in. “Before we get ahead of ourselves.”

“Sorry. It’s just been so long since we’ve seen a friendly face that…Didn’t expect to see humans though.”

Ceccitol briefly explained who they were. The Green Moon warriors were almost in tears simply just knowing Dark Elves still lived, that this fortress was not all that was left of their race.

“Thank the Old Gods.” The man breathed deep, calming his excitement. “Not everything has been lost. We’ve lost track of how long we’ve been stuck in this fortress.”

“We can evacuate surviving clan member.” Anton began. “Without needing the ships you probably have hidden here.”

“I-”

“It’s pretty clear if you know what you’re looking for,” Anton said. “The door and the fact you haven’t let the dock fall into disrepair.”

“We still fish.” The warrior was oddly defiant. “That isn’t outlawed, unless they want us to starve.”

“And the crates from the Frindal Emirate?” Kal asked, raising an aqua brow.

The warrior frowned but confirmed their suspicions.

Anton waved him down. “I honestly don’t care. But, who’s in command of this fortress?”

“That would be my father, Leran. He’s in the…the inner dock.” The warrior turned to his fellows. “I’m Cagec.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” Anton reached out to shake his hand. He hesitated but shook his, if only to mimic his actions. “Though I wish we had met under better terms.”

“Yes…This way.” Cagec pointed to two of the shrouded warriors. “Stay here and keep watch. We don’t know if the Goblins will try to come this way. Especially after all this noise and excitement.”

Cagec began leading along the small corridors. The fortress was clearly designed to repel invaders with minimal defenders, every design choice funnelled attackers into tight chokepoints. Anton had the feeling that the fortress wasn’t built by the Dark Elves. It lacked their architecture, even when compared to the Mist Walkers tower, and was built very quickly but designed to last. Dwarvish, even.

“How is the rest of The Shadow Isles?” Cagec asked. He and the other Green Moon warriors kept an extremely vigilant watch, searching every nook and cranny for a potential attacker. “Has the mainland fallen?”

Ceccitol moved to the front. “The Shadow Isles are still free. Mostly. Your Island has fallen, so has another two. So has the northern quarter of the mainland.”

Cagec closed his eyes and sighed lightly. “We held hope that others of our clan might have survived. That they might fight their way here. But…As time passed we knew there wasn’t anyone else alive.”

“How many do you have?” Anton asked.

“At first we had seven thousand. Now, three.” Cagec grunted. “Barely three.”

He stopped at a junction and pointed deeper into the fortress. A small group of women warriors, in full armour and weapons, tried to coral and entertain the children. They dressed in spare pieces of armour reformed into something their smaller forms could wear. Many white strikes adorned the leather sections, some very recent. However, their play looked very forced, like they were simply acting out their parts with no enthusiasm. They held a silence and reservation when attention drifted away from them. They knew things were very, very bad and their mothers were acting too.

Cagec directed them forward before they attracted too much attention. One child saw them pass but didn’t understand. He simply returned to the others. Only then did Anton realise that the children had placed quivers of arrows on the far wall. Ammunition carriers. They were truly desperate for manpower.

The air quickly grew more humid, with a slight hint of salt, as the sound of wood groaning echoed down the hallway. Ten large boats lay inside a dock nestled deep inside the fortress, gently rocking back and forth, occasionally colliding with the walls by the gentle swell of the ocean. Hundreds of Dark Elves moved about the inner dock, moving supplies and checking over their weapons. Many rested in small groups, huddled around small fires or helping fletchers make arrows. Everyone held the same air as the children; they were all but dead men walking, their bodies just needed to catch up to their minds.

Why haven’t they just taken to the ships and fled the island? Why wait here?

“My father should be this way.” Cagec pointed to a small gathering of Dark Elves. They stood before a map of what appeared to be the fortress. Many areas were marked in red, angrily scratched off.

“Let’s hope they listen,” Verona whispered. “More than the Elders did anyway.”

Anton and Kal agreed.

Whispers grew through the Dark Elves as they passed through. A wave of life washed over everyone they passed.

“Father!” Cagec shouted.

“Did you find the source of the disturbance?” Leran asked gruffly, refusing to turn away from the map. “There’s lightning raining all around the fortress, all three of our mages are long dead, and someone’s seen suspicious activity at the dock. We can’t have any of those little bastards getting through. We’ve already had to give up so much ground. Well, did you? I may be turning senile but I’ve still have my mind.”

“I did.” Cagec scratched his head. “But they weren’t Goblins.”

“What are you blabbering about boy?” Leran groaned and slowly turned around, one hand resting on a thick cane. “Did you let them in or…”

Leran stared dumbstruck at who stood before him. Leran looked like a more weathered and older version of Gerin. Compared to the other warriors, wearing soundproofed clothing, his was unashamedly loud and almost garish in a way. He actually looked like a pirate.

“Wha…” Leran blinked, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “Wh-How?”

Leran approached Ceccitol, his hand outstretched. Tuccac moved in front but Leran didn’t care. He reached for the purple tassel around his neck and rubbed the rough material through his fingers. A faint tear came to his eye.

“You aren’t some old man’s delusion.” Leran hugged Tuccac with all his might. Tuccac froze, his hands shot out and tensed. Slowly he returned the hold, gently patting his back as tears rolled down Leran’s weathered face.

---[]---

Leran gently rocked back and forth on his chair. “I can’t believe there’s anyone still alive. And, and you say that most of the Island Clans still live?”

Ceccitol nodded. “Yes. And the Mainland clans…” She glanced at Anton. “Are helping. To push back the Goblins.”

Leran looked stumped. He began laughing, slapping his knee as the other Green Moon Dark Elves laughed alongside.

“Definitely strange times. Those stuck up pricks would never lift a finger to help us unless they needed to.”

Word of their presence quickly spread throughout the Green Moon survivors. They dared not approach, not after a swift ferocious stare from Leran, but didn’t truly back down. Slowly a circle began to form around them, one that had to be dispersed. Chairs had been provided for those Leran correctly guessed were the leaders of this little expedition as they sat around a small, dull fire.

“And the humans,” Leran’s eyes fell on Kal. “And Beast-kin too. Humans and Beast-kin working together…”

“Leran, we can get your people to safety, away from this place.” Anton leant forward, the chair creaking underneath his weight. “But could you tell me why you haven’t taken the ships and left? I’m sure the other clans would forgive you for having some ships, which you aren’t supposed to have.”

“Right before they throw them back into the front.” Verona quietly mused.

“Not any longer at least.”

“Those ships.” Leran drank deeply from a flask on his hip. “Can hold probably hold a thousand, maybe two, safely. And we had about seven or eight thousand.”

Leran chuckled. “I don’t think it’s hard to understand why we couldn’t. So we did nothing, the days passed as we bickered amongst ourselves. Then the Goblins started attacking. Hard. And I’m not going to leave anyone behind. I may be a pirate but I’m not cowardly.”

“And with the numbers you have right now?” Anton asked.

Leran sipped his flask again. “We don’t have the supplies to make the journey out of The Shadow Isles to the Mycean City states. At first we definitely didn’t but, well, as we started losing people our supplies began to last longer and longer…But no one will accept our ships. Not the Myceans, the Bebbezarians or the Holy Kingsland…They know we’re pirates and they’ll think the women and children are hostages, no matter what we say. Pirate hide-outs won’t take us either. Too many and they’ve got nothing to gain. We don’t have anywhere to go.”

“And they’ll hang us after docking,” Cagec added. “I hear Dark Elves sell well in Seocuria.”

The last statement was largely directed at Kal.

“I…wouldn’t know.” Kal smiled faintly. “But probably in the tens to hundreds of gold coins for the women, the younger the higher.”

The Dark Elves shuddered at the prospect.

“We have a way to get every one of your surviving clan members out of here and to safety.” Anton patted the portal stone bag. “You don’t even need to leave this fortress.”

“Where?” Leran laughed. “No one will take us. Even the most generous clan can’t take in all of us, especially during a war.”

Leran’s laugh was cut short by a ragged and spluttering cough. The sounds emanating from his chest, as he desperately tried to recover his breath, were painful and thick. Cagec tried to comfort him but was waved away by a defiant Leran, he wasn’t about to let someone help him. Defiant to the end.

Anton stood up and approached him. The Green Moon warriors drew their weapons but Leran waved them away.

“And what do you want to do, human? Pity an old man who can barely breathe? Whose waking moments are coughing up blood and green bile?”

“Sounds like you have a nasty infection.”

Leran smiled. “Past twenty…I’ve had it for longer than you’ve probably been alive.”

“Let me try something.”

Anton held Leran’s knee. He received only looks of derision, and one of surprise from Leran, as he chanted a healing prayer. Leran gasped, prompting the Green Moon warriors to leap to his defence, but he glared them into submission with just his gaze. An unsteady hand held his chest.

“I feel better than I have in most of my life.” Leran frowned. “How much magic did you just use, human?”

“Not insignificant.” Anton returned to his seat. “Your infection was quite severe. It’s a miracle that you were still standing.”

“I don’t have time to be sick or wallowing in pain and misery. I leave that for weak women.”

“As I was saying, we can easily rescue every one of your clansmen and get them to safety. It might not be easy but it’s certainly better than dying in this place.”

“Unless you can convince the clans to actually help us we’re probably better off here.”

“Actually…” Anton looked to Ceccitol. “Ceccitol. The original agreement was only the people from your clan and anyone else that I can convince, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Hurray.” Verona cheered softly, only to looks of confusion from the Green Moon.

“I have a city. And this city needs people that are willing to live, work and defend it. I don’t know how important the pirate life…style is to your clan but, if you are willing to live within our laws, I can offer you safety and a place to call home.”

Leran leant back into his chair. He thoroughly scanned the other leaders sitting next to him.

“Seems like out of the people here I’m the last Pirate Lord. I think the days of pirating are over, they’ve been on the way down for a long time anyway.”

“But-”

Leran stared the Dark Elf down. “Don’t you give me lip. If it weren’t for me and my son, risking our lives and half of our fleet, which I should remind you that is but a fraction of what it once was, to save your sorry ass from those Mycean escorts you’d be swinging from the gallows.”

Leran grabbed his own neck. “They had you surrounded and I could see the rope gripping tight around your neck. No, the days of pirating are over. That was our last good haul anyway. It’s not profitable to raid a few small ships anymore. At least, for now.”

The leaders fell silent, even Cagec.

“Are you willing to live an honest life from here on? I won’t accept any form of criminality or thievery in my city. If you do you’ll be treated just like anyone else, regardless of your race.”

Leran rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we can arrange something. Perhaps. But there are many people that are wounded and can barely move.”

“Kal and I can heal them. Not completely but enough so they can hobble through.”

Leran nodded. “Anton, was it? I want you to come with me. I want to show you something.”

Verona, Kal and Cetina were hesitant to let him go but Anton told them it was fine. He could probably deal with whatever they could throw at him, not that he expected them to actually attack him. What could they possibly gain?

Leran patted his son’s shoulder. “Get everyone ready to evacuate.”

“What about the ships?”

“The door’s broken, so we’ll have to smash it open.” Leran shrugged. “Unless someone can figure out the latch mechanism. We didn’t build it, doesn’t even look like the Dwarves made it.”

“I could try something.” Verona offered. “My blood can do some pretty interesting things. It’s worth a shot.”

“I haven’t seen a Blood Berserker in some time.” Leran mused. “Not since that incident off the Seocurian coast.”

“Where are the most heavily wounded?” Kal asked. “I can heal them just like Anton.”

“Cagec, that’s on you.” Leran patted down his clothes. “And make sure you take some of your warriors with you. Some might take a fancy to the pretty Beast-kin, if you understand my meaning.”

“I’ll go with her.” Cetina tapped her sword.

“Don’t hesitate to give them a punch if they get too close.” Leran laughed. “Pirates tend to not behave themselves when they’re on land. Sea’s a different matter. They can always swim if they don’t like what I have to say.”

Verona and Kal gave Anton a light hug before separating with almost all of their Dark Elf escorts. That left Ceccitol and Tuccac with him.

Leran groaned as he stood upright. “Now, Anton, there is something I would like to discuss with you. But not here. Would you join me at the top of the fortress?”

“Is there a reason why you can’t discuss it here?”

Leran smiled. “I’m an old man, I don’t think that I’ll live long enough to see The Shadow Isles again. I’d like to see it one last time, even though it’s over-run by Goblins. You can bring those two Dark Elves if you wish. Their presence will not offend me.”

“I’ll be fine.” Anton summoned a small Lightning Crow. “This little guy will keep me safe.”

---[]---

Anton and Leran stood at the highest point of the fortress, giving them a clear and unobstructed view for miles in every direction. Annoyingly he could only see the signs of a Goblin occupation; ruined buildings, hundreds of small huts and fires raged throughout the forests while large groups roamed from camp to camp, growing before splitting again seemingly at random. Anton’s two Lightning Crows continued to rain down death upon the Goblins, driving them back into cover. Many were attempting to breach the central section of the fortress but the piles of dead bodies, arrows peppering their hides, demonstrated their successes were limited.

“You’ve done an incredible job holding things together,” Anton said. “With so few defenders compared to the Goblins.”

“They were attacking extremely hard until a few days ago.” Leran looked over the ruined fortress. “Relentless little creatures. Without rest they threw themselves against the walls. Each of them that died took their toll on us, every death was a tiny nick and cut. They were grinding us down to pulp.”

“A few days ago we attacked the Goblin lines and pushed it forward, only a bit though.”

“Good.” Leran smiled. “About time someone did.”

Leran stretched out his arms. “I’m going to miss this place. So many good stories and tales to tell, adventures and plunder.”

Anton looked out into the forests. He didn’t want to encourage criminal activity, it would only be a detriment to Atros in the future, but didn’t want to leave the conversation hanging.

“There will still be new stories to tell.” Anton chuckled. “Maybe lacking the spoils but certainly not lacking any of the bravery. The lands are still infested with Goblins and other beasts and monsters, nowhere near as bad as this place.”

“So stupid that we stayed on this island so long. Just watching the rest of the world fly by.” Leran leant against the wall. “All because of what your human Empire did to us, all that time ago.”

“We aren’t like that.”

“Ha. They all say that.” Leran looked back out. “Every one of them. So how can I trust you?”

“You’ve already agreed to evacuate with us.”

“I can change that at a moment’s notice and no one will leave. They trust me. So, I’ll ask again, why should I trust you?”

Anton held his chin. “I honestly can’t prove to you right now that I’m genuine. I could give you promises but I’m sure that you know that words can be hollow things. Breakable to further agendas. I will allow you to keep your weapons and gear, though your food will need to be pooled with the rest of the city. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be completely safe from harm or that things will be easy. But it’ll definitely be better than the treatment you’ll receive in The Shadow Isles. And certainly better than this.”

Leran studied Anton, his eyes raked over his body. “At least you have a shred of honesty. If you’d started rambling how great everything was in this city of yours I would have said no.”

Would you have tried to throw me from the balcony? It’s a very long way down.

The Large Lightning Crows flew close to the balcony. One looked to Anton but didn’t stop its mission. The two flew very close and raked an exposed group of Goblins with lightning. Leran laughed as he watched them run.

“Run you little bastards!”

“How much do you have in the way of weapons and armour?” Anton asked, directing the small Lightning Crow to join their fellows. Leran stopped laughing, but he was clearly thoroughly entertained watching them die. “We need everything we can get for Atros. The crate from the Frindal Emirate is a good start.”

“We have some,” Leran said. “Will that be adequate compensation for evacuating us?”

“For a pirate, you are quite willing to pay us.”

“You’ve never been a pirate then, have you?”

“I’d like to think I’m not a criminal.”

Leran laughed, waving Anton down. “That’s a problem. If a pirate were caught trying to short change another they’d be pissed. And that’s a great way to get killed. Better to be generous with people that are about to save your lives. So they’ll return the favour.”

“We’ll take those weapons then, the ones that aren’t yours. Jeff will be pleased to receive better gear.” Anton smiled. “I’ve been getting a few good gifts of late too.”

Leran rested his rear against the railing. “I wonder…Which of those three are you fucking?”

Anton coughed at the direct nature of his question. Leran tilted his head and frowned.

“I-”

“Grandfather!” A sweet voice came from behind the door.

Two young Dark Elf women approached, wearing a light set of armour but without a bow on their backs. Unlike Ceccitol’s daughters these were clearly adult, though considering the longer lifespan of the Dark Elves they were probably older than him. Both held had the same sharp-featured faces endemic to most of the Dark Elves along with smooth and flawless skin, full lips and deep brown eyes. Their cloaks and armour hid their forms but Anton saw how they moved, underneath they hid a slim and toned body. However their hair was slightly wavy rather than perfectly straight. They were clearly twins, the only exception was the tiny mole underneath their eyes.

“Why aren’t you two helping with the evacuation?” Leran moved against the wall, his leathery face frowning lightly. “We need to move everything into the central dock. So why are you here?”

“We wanted to make sure this was real.” The girl on the left said.

“Why would you doubt me?”

“Because you’re old.” The second’s voice was almost identical. Both smiled as Leran grew more irritated. “And you’re acting more silly than usual.”

“Not that anyone actually thought what you said was odd.”

“Indeed.”

“Little brats.” Leran lightly slapped their heads. Both held their heads, cutely pouting. “These two little scoundrels are my granddaughters, Calo and Sheso.”

The twins bowed, Anton wasn’t sure which was which, his confusion was readily picked up by the twins. Both giggled mischievously.

“They’re almost impossible to tell apart,” Leran grumbled. “Thankfully they always move together so it’s not so bad. I just speak to both at once, saves confusing me.”

“I am Calo.” The one with the mole beneath her right eye bowed her head. “And she is Sheso.”

“A pleasure to meet you. Are you Cagec’s children?”

“No.” Calo smiled. “Our mother, Merro, is Leran’s daughter. She was in one of the southern Islands when the Goblins began attacking.”

“The one to the right of the DuskReavers,” Leran said softly. “Night Stalkers. No idea if she’s still there.”

“Our father died during the initial attack.” Sheso continued, picking up almost exactly where her sister had let off. “But we didn’t see much of him before the Goblins started attacking.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” Anton bowed his head.

Calo and Sheso held themselves together but were not doing well. However, Anton had been taught by Verona and Kal, mainly Verona, not to take the tears of women as always honest. They were undoubtedly sad but there was a mischievousness behind it. Was that even appropriate?

“At the end, he turned out alright.” Leran glanced between the two. “Before the war, these two were being trained in how to fight with swords and daggers, they were about to start using bows but…Hmm…and, since they’re women, they know how to manage a home…Would that be of any use to you?”

This sounds like something Verona would be involved with.

“Perhaps.” Anton shrugged lightly, not wanting to make a decision right away. “We are often away from home and have little time to take care of it or the garden. That we’re planning to build.”

Even less time if we move into that monstrosity the Dwarves are building.

“But I’m not inherently opposed to it.” Anton smiled. “Knowing how to handle yourselves in a fight is extremely useful. An intruder wouldn’t expect that.”

“We were about to learn how to use the bow before this happened.” Sheso sighed.

“It would have been fun to learn from mother.” Calo mimicked her sister. “She was supposed to come back after winter. I’m actually glad she didn’t.”

Leran nodded glumly, a crestfallen face looked outside.

When they get to Atros how are they going to cope? The Beast-kin suffered after we stopped, and had time to think about the implications of freedom. But they hadn’t lost nearly everyone.

“The hell is that?” Leran said.

Anton moved the balcony, Calo and Sheso stood in-between. The fires from the Goblins, from every camp and ruined city, were drawing closer.

“I’ll summon another.”

Four small Lightning Crows erupted into being, one after the other, and flew out, joining the other Lightning Crows trying to hold back the Goblins. For some reason they had redoubled their efforts to breach the defences. The twins looked at him in awe.

“That’s insane.” Calo squealed. “I’ve never seen magic like that before. And so easy too. Can you teach us to do that?”

“Please!” Sheso held his arm. “Please!”

“I’m no teacher.” Anton smiled. “But do you have books on Principle Magic? I remember you saying you did have some mages before.”

“Almost everything of value is still out there,” Leran grumbled. “Gold and silver aren’t worth a thing when there’s nothing to spend it on.”

“Well…”

Anton saw something odd moving through the Goblin hordes, the flames began to part around a single point. With his eye enhancement he saw two strange Goblins; a giant Black and a Red with a diminutive and gamy arm.

“They’re back,” Anton grumbled. “Looks like they’re trying to get rid of anything that could threaten them in the rear. Hardly a mindless horde.”

“We’re hardly a threat.” Leran squinted his eyes, trying his best to follow Anton’s line of sight. “We’re stuck in our fortress. What could we possibly do?”

“Every Goblin that wanders around here, and gets killed by your people, is one more they can’t throw into battle. And with the Mainland Clans finally reinforcing the front they need everyone they can get.” Anton clicked his tongue. “We need to get out of here quickly.”

“You still haven’t told us how you intend to get us out of here,” Leran grumbled. He looked down to witness a surge of Goblins, almost a hundred, get dangerously close to a section of inner fortress. All fell, riddled with dozens of black arrows. “They’re getting damn close. Looks like almost everyone’s pulled back to the inner dock.”

“How are you going to evacuate us?” Calo asked.

“The ships are stuck,” Sheso added. “And they don’t have the room to take everyone and the weapons and armour you want.”

“You weren’t here for that part,” Anton said.

The twins looked sheepishly at each other. Leran sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“If you two continue to sneak around, and snoop on things you aren’t supposed to, you could end up dead. Or worse.”

“But we’re just following what we were taught.” Sheso pouted. “You can’t blame us for actually listening to what we were taught.”

“So how are you going to get everyone out of here?” Calo tilted her head.

---[]---

The dock bristled with activity, flashes of white erupted from the centre as the DuskReaver warriors directed the Green Moon through the portal. Unfortunately, stretchers couldn’t be used, the possibility of a bearer teleporting first was simply too great, so they had to be healed to the point where they could move under their own strength. That alone took considerable effort and strain on Kal, she was quite tired when they returned but she looked very happy.

“I’ve healed everyone’s that’s mortally sick.” Kal coughed as she rose up, her legs were a little shaky but after a quick pat they were fine. “Everyone else is going to have to hobble through.”

“Through that?” Leran asked.

A woman tried her best to direct the throng of children through the portal. They held their fingers to their lips, biting down and swaying slightly, too nervous to make the first step. To be fair the woman looked just as nervous. The portal flashed again and a warrior stepped through. After speaking a few words he convinced the children that it was safe. As they stepped through the woman sighed with relief and turned to help the others.

“Six hundred have already passed through.” Cagec trotted towards them. “Father, it looks like we’re somewhere in Bebbezzar.”

“You’ll get used to the light level soon enough,” Anton said. “It’s really not that bad.”

“How bright is it?” Calo asked. “Is it like a reading room?”

“Who are these two?” Kal asked, her face slightly flat. Her eyes flashed over their bodies then snapped to Anton, she held the same look as when Verona was scheming something.

“These-”

Leran’s explanation was cut short by a tremendous crash coming from the wooden gates of the inner dock. Verona’s blood shards crashed into the water, followed by a few small pieces of metal. The red glowing form of Verona gesticulated angrily at the gate. A few pieces of metal and wood have been torn loose but nothing substantial.

Leran chuckled. “Whoever built this place, they did a tremendous job.”

“I thought some of the things looked a little Dwarvish.” Anton mused. “It’s just the way the metal and stone has been cut.”

“Could be. I haven’t seen much Dwarvish metal. Well, not like this at any rate.” Leran shrugged. “But we don’t know how to fix the darn thing. We didn’t even know it was broken until a few days ago. Not much need to go out until-”

Another crash interrupted Leran, but this was not from Verona. She looked away from the dock with a great frown on her face. The crashing had come from deep within the fortress, from ground level. A large group of Green Moon Clan warriors, covered in dust and suffering a coughing fit, jumped out of a corridor, followed by a great plume of dust.

“Leran! They’ve broken through the outer walls. I’ve never seen so many of them.”

“Those two really want you dead.” Anton mused. “Did they just destroy part of the fortress?”

“No. Whoever built this place wanted to piss off any attacker. We’ve just collapsed every tunnel we can.” The Green Moon warrior coughed up more dust. “But there are still a few places they can get in.”

Kal downed a mana vial and readied her bow. “There are still a lot of sick people to get through the portal. And they can only move so fast. We can’t just throw them through…”

“And we still need to return to our ship,” Cetina added. “The Sky Clearers won’t like leaving it here.”

“Barricade all of the entrances to the inner dock!” Leran ordered. Despite being pirates they obeyed without question. “Use whatever we have. Send everyone that can’t fight through the portal, we’ll deal with these little rodents.”

Leran looked too old to properly wield a bow, but he still had his cane. He violently twisted the end, the wood clicked and he drew a long, thin green blade. After a grunt, he readied himself as best he could.

“Is that something else your clan managed to find?” Anton asked. “Something that’s fallen overboard?”

Leran laughed. “This actually was a gift. A proper gift. Though most people consider pirates nothing more than problems they are great problem solvers…And some people really, really want to keep them on their good side.”

“Otherwise they could spill secrets.” Sheso winked cutely at Anton.

Kal and Cetina’s faces drew flat again.

The few entrances were quickly boarded up while Anton hurried to Verona’s side, everyone else continued the evacuation as best they could. The Lightning Crows continued to do their work, striking at the horde outside, but Anton knew that it wasn’t enough. Through the connection, he could tell where they were and roughly their targets; they were very quickly reaching the outer wall and there were many, many more Goblins to come.

“Damn thing’s unbreakable,” Verona grumbled at Anton. Ceccitol and Tuccac stood next to her, for security reasons, and looked at the great metal mechanisms of the door. Their intricacies were beyond Anton, though he reasoned this was far, far too advanced for something like protecting a hidden dock.

“Do you want to have a go?” Verona quickly hugged his arm. “I’m getting nowhere. And it sounds like we’re about to have a few thousand little guests pouring into this place.”

“Absolutely.” Anton summoned a fire Octahedron. “I know the Green Moon Clan isn’t going to like me destroying their fortress…”

Anton threw a Fire Octahedron at the door. It exploded in a shower of sparks, far more energetic than normal. When the flames cleared, their attention was mainly focused on the few stray embers that reached the ships, the wooden door was all but untouched. Verona glanced up at Anton, a silver brow raised. Anton threw a lightning and fire lance with similar results. The wooden gate, despite some small burn marks, was essentially untouched.

“Wards.” Anton mused. “Principle Magic wards. Probably layered into the wood.”

“I wasn’t attacking the wood, just the metal.” Verona groaned. “Looks like the ships are staying here then.”

“You can’t just put them through the portal?” Tuccac asked, only somewhat jokingly.

“If you can get it out of the water and somewhere safe to put it in Atros, I honestly don’t know. Maybe? But we’ll just have to come back for these things.” Anton brought out a small Strohierite stone. “Leave a few of these guys here to keep the Goblins off them. For a time at least.”

Anton focused his attention upwards. The Lightning Crows were working as hard as they could but they were now shooting their lightning at the fortress walls.

“We don’t have long.”

“Can’t kill those two Goblins?” Verona asked as they moved back to Kal and Cetina.

“They’re hanging back.” Anton shook his head. “A couple of miles back. I don’t think there’s much for them to do apart from just point the horde in the right direction.”

“Shame.” Verona shrugged. “Would have like to kill them. I get the feeling the Goblins will collapse when that Red is gone.”

Anton stopped. A memory came back, one from the first month in this world. Verona immediately knew something was wrong and held his hand.

“Mount Aspire. The Goblins killed one that was born deformed. So why not this one? Beyond it just being a Red.”

“Maybe that’s enough.” Verona looked to the walls. It sounded like something was scuttling along the ground towards them, muffled by the wooden barricades. The Dark Elves took notice and began to ready themselves. “We’ve only seen four, I think, so far. Most people didn’t know about anything higher than the Yellows, like all the Dark Elves. Somehow.”

The portal continued to flash white as more and more Green Moon Elves stepped through. The warriors were doing their best but it was still taking some time. Time they were rapidly running out of.

“Please tell me this is everyone,” Anton said to Leran and Cagec. “I’m not going through this fortress just to find one idiot cowering in a corner.”

“If they didn’t come here then they’re definitely an idiot.” Leran shifted on his Bosciycium cane sword. “But I’m sure this is everyone.”

Anton caught a glint of metal from the Twins. They held two small swords tight in their shaking hands.

“You two should really go through the portal.” Anton received confused looks. “For your own safety.”

“Even though we are young we are still warriors,” Calo stated adamantly.

“And we will fight to see our people safe.” Sheso smiled. “But thank you for your concern about us. Didn’t think Humans would care about Dark Elves.”

“That’s what the stories said.” Calo shrugged.

“This one appears to be strange.” Leran laughed. “Human’s and Beast-kin definitely don’t normally get along.”

“Is that what she is?” Calo and Sheso studied Kal and her bow. “I like her hair.”

Kal frowned and ran a hand through her shoulder-length aqua hair. Anton scratched her ears, Kal playfully pulled away but retained a smile. Verona flicked her silver hair to garner their attention but the Dark Elves were too unsettled by her red glow to admire her silver hair, though the twins spared a longer look.

The barricades began to shudder, the sounds of screeching and claws ripping at wood filled the air.

“That’s all the wounded,” Cagec said loudly. “Now it’s just the warriors and the supplies. We still haven’t got a lot of that through yet.”

“Keep moving then,” Leran grumbled. “We don’t have all day.”

A green hand burst through the wooden barricade, quickly sliced off by a Dark Elf warrior. The Green Goblin screeched and recoiled, the bloody stump harshly dragged back through only to be replaced by another yellow. The warrior appeared more than a little confused but swung down again.

“It’ll be a shame to let this place go.” Leran shifted his weight again.

Wooden splinters forced the Green Moon warrior back. Even more hands burst through, ripping and clawing at anything their rotten little claws could find purchase. A head, filled with their frenzied rage, popped through, quickly felled by a black arrow but followed by more and more squirming and writhing Goblins.

The barricade collapsed in a mighty surge of angry flesh. A volley blunted the initial charge but those behind simply continued pushing their dead fellows forward, trampling them to nothing. A fire Octahedron destroyed the charge in a burst of light and roasting flesh but behind them, a steady stream continued to pour out.

“Are you going to collapse the roof again?” Verona asked, directing her blood shards at the horde.

“Might bring down everything around us,” Anton said. He picked up a small stone at his feet. “But that’s basically the plan this time.”

Verona laughed. “You and your stones.”

Verona’s magic was more than enough to shred the incoming Goblins but that was causing severe problems for Anton. With every slain his tail tingled, their deaths fuelled the strange magic from the White Realm. It had been growing ever since arriving on their island but it was negligible. Now almost a quarter tingled and pulsed with the charge.

Anton drew everything he could and began to create the Marble Spear again. The Dark Elves stopped, Leran swiftly reprimanded them and returned to watching the crumbling barricades.

“What sort of magic is that?” Leran asked.

“You’ve never seen this before?” Anton planted the butt onto the ground.

“Never…And I’ve seen just about everything in my travels. So you aren’t just some Glyph Mage then. So where did you learn that?”

“That’s a very good question.”

Calo and Sheso looked confused at one another then to their grandfather. He shrugged and let it go.

Anton almost relinquished his hold on the spear when something told him to stop. Surely this style of magic was useful in some way, he just needed to try and actually kill something with it. The only problem was that it was still a spear and he didn’t want to get close to the Goblins. Only during the opening days in Atros had he been close to those wretched things.

“Another one!”

A barricade near the wooden gate broke, followed by another surge of Goblins. Some careened across the dock and splashed into the water, pushed on by the mindless horde behind, but many veered towards them.

“I want to see if this does something.” Anton readied the spear to throw like a javelin.

“I think there are more important things right now.” Verona chuckled nervously.

“Not if it reaches my spine.”

Anton threw the spear with all the strength he could muster. Immediately the spear began to crack and leak the black lightning but retained its form as it collided with the leading edge. The spear cleaved through the Goblins like they were wet paper. That alone was good enough as a weapon since the amount gained from killing the Goblins was nowhere near the loss from the spear. However the horde completely stopped, not even Verona’s blood shards had managed that. A Goblin staggered to the front with the tip of the spear stuck in its chest, jutting out almost an inch. Unlike the rest of the spear, it refused to disintegrate into thousands of tiny white cubes. The skin around the wound transformed to a marble white, lines of black lightning radiating out until it covered the Goblin. Its posture and demeanour changed to a more regal and almost noble bearing.

Just like the Doll in the White Realm.

Though the spear had disintegrated Anton felt something from the Goblin, just like the Lightning summons still flying above the fortress. Unlike theirs, it was far more substantial and held a suggestion of an emotion. It wanted orders.

“Kill all the Goblins!” Anton yelled. Those nearby were confused until they saw the White Goblin.

The White Goblin responded, turning its longer and no longer rotten claws upon the surrounding Greens and Yellows. At first, the other Goblins recoiled in an attempt to avoid the strikes with far more effort than he would expect. Though the White Goblin didn’t land a lethal blow it did manage a few scratches. These scratches rapidly began to transform the Goblins just like the first, lines of black lightning radiating out of the wound.

“Grekka!” The Goblin’s screech echoed throughout the dock.

As one they turned on the White Goblin and those still transforming and tore them to shreds. Though some of the attackers began to turn there were simply too many, when the White Goblin’s head was torn off Anton felt the thought tether vanish. The White Goblin was angry but only so far in that it had failed in its mission.

“Fascinating.” Anton threw a Fire Lance into the horde. The small explosion threw away the Yellow and Green Goblins attacking the White’s corpse; though clearly dead it retained the white marble skin alongside the those that only begun their transformation.

“What did you do?” Calo asked, pulling on his hand.

“Please don’t just touch someone like that in a fight.” Anton patted her head. “Especially if it’s someone you don’t know and they aren’t expecting it. You might end up getting hit by accident.”

“Right. Sorry.” She and her sister turned their attention to the battle.

The lines, such as they began to contract slowly as the last of the Green Moon Dark Elves evacuated through the portal. With each fallen barricade a surge of Goblins poured out followed by a small but constant trickle. Anton repeated the attack with the marble spear with the same results. Even with the smaller constant trickled of Goblins the White Goblins were unable to grow more than a few in number before being set upon by the horde. While it was frustrating to not understand what was truly happening, the mere fact it greatly slowed their assault was more than enough.

“There’s only us left now.” Anton downed a mana vial. “Time for us to go too.”

Almost all of the Green Moon Clan had evacuated, leaving forty odd people still within the fortress. The Goblins continued their assault but they could hold them back. For now, at least, their numbers were seemingly without end. Their corpses began to pile up and give the Goblins a fleshy albeit slippery platform to launch themselves from, bringing the battle ever closer.

“Won’t they just follow?” Cagec asked. “The city I went to didn’t seem like it was strong enough to fend these off.”

“We’ll head back to the outside dock and take the Sky Clearers ship out to sea.” Anton recovered the portal stones. “We’ll come back for your ships one day.”

“Damn shame,” Leran grumbled.

“Kal? How much mana do you have left?”

“Well over half.”

“I’m starting to run a bit low. Can you make another smoke stone? Set it for a few days this time.”

Kal held the stone tight in her hands and spoke the prayer. Thick black swirls of smoke leaked through her fingers, Kal began spluttering after just a single whiff. She threw it into the horde. The Goblins clawed and scratched at the stone but quickly succumbed to the suffocating smoke.

“Let’s go!”

Anton cleared the hordes behind them and motioned for Cagec to lead the way. Slowly they began their retreat along the dock, fleeing not only the Goblins but the thick smoke that quickly filled the dock. Verona took the front, the ideal position for her power, and scraped the corridors clear of any Goblin, smashing and reforming the blood crystals against the solid walls. Some Goblins tried their luck, throwing themselves into the field of hardened blood with a strange deranged smile, probably due to the influence of the Reds. They didn’t last long.

“Are you a Wind Mage?” Calo asked Kal as they ran along the narrow corridor. “I didn’t know they could heal.”

“No. I use Tethra’s power.” Kal smiled. “She gifted me-Look out.”

A stone-tipped spear, gripped tight in a pair of gnarled yellow hands, thrust out of the darkness of a narrow corridor, catching Calo in the shoulder. She screamed, stumbled and gripped at the wooden shaft. Fear drenched her face as even more clawed hands reached out for her.

Anton threw a small flame bomb at the lead Goblin, showering the rest in sparks and illuminating the corridor to be filled with Goblins. He pulled on her collar hard, ripping the spear tip free and throwing her to her sister. With a wave of flame incinerating the remaining Goblins Anton turned his attention to Calo. Her hand clutched tight onto the wound, already her body was shaking as a thin but growing sheen of sweat covered her face. Anton said nothing and healed her. With the shakes gone she released her hand. She tried to say something but Anton pushed her forward. There would be time later to talk.

---[]---

Anton looked back to the Green Moon Fortress, great plumes of smoke erupting from every window, as they sailed out of the dock. While it was disappointing to leave the Green Moon Clan ships inside they simply didn’t have the time. There was every chance that the water could teleport alongside the ships, and the door probably wasn’t perfectly sealed. A way to drain the ocean?

“Two thousand more Dark Elves will greatly raise morale.” Ceccitol leant against the rear railing next to Anton. “Even if they are from the Green Moon, it’ll raise hope that others might have survived.”

Anton grimaced. “I think we both know this was a fluke. The Green Moon, a clan of pirates, who are used to unfavourable odds, barely managed to hold on. And that was only thanks to this fortress. I doubt there’s anyone left alive. Well, uncaptured at least.”

Ceccitol tapped the railing. “But we should still hope. Perhaps someone’s living in a cave somewhere, away from them.”

“Kal spent most of her life in the wilderness without being caught, so it’s not impossible.”

Just incredibly unlikely. With the numbers we’ve seen they would have scoured the land. Just by sheer numbers they would have found all but the most devious of hiding places. Doubly so with those two leading this horde. Clever bastards knew to stay out of range.

“And what about feeding the Green Moon?” Ceccitol chuckled. “Atros wasn’t that big when we left.”

“We’ll work it out.” Anton looked to the few Green Moon Dark Elves currently on board their ship, specifically Leran and his immediate family. “Something tells me they’re not going to be up for much fighting for a while. The next few days will probably be spent sleeping. And hopefully not drinking.”

“Knowing their wounded are safe will do much more than that.” Tuccac hugged his wife from behind, both shared a tender kiss. Anton was glad he didn’t interrupt their happy relationship.

“For the next little while I’ll have them helping Atros while they settle in.”

Verona, Kal and Cetina approached, all looked moderately exhausted from the fight. Anton took Verona and Kal into his arms and patted Cetina’s shoulder.

“Tomorrow morning Belinda reaches the Black Riders Fortress,” Anton said. “We’re going to have to split again.”

“If only they’d waited until the spring.” Verona sighed. “Either way, we’d have done a lot more for you guys. Maybe we wouldn’t have needed to do that thing…”

Kal grumbled lightly. “Apparently they’ve been talking to the guards but no one has been listening. At least that’s what Jeff’s said.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Tuccac asked. “If they get back here…”

Anton said nothing. The implication was clear. If a smooth transition to whatever Gerin was planning was possible they'd be long gone. Probably one of the most heartless things Anton had done, so far at least.

Verona chuckled. “They won’t get out. Now…” Verona pulled down on his collar hard. “Explain to us what you’re doing merrily running around with two cute little Dark Elves, batting their eyelashes at your every word?”

Chapter 139 - Vol 4 - Respite

Chapter 139:

Anton passed the next set of camping supplies to the waiting cart; bought through the Seocurian dock portal. There were simply too many Dark Elves for what they had; even with the builders working flat out for the past few days, they had only anticipated a few hundred Beast-kin at for the next surge of population growth, not over two thousand Dark Elves. Thankfully the Green Moon understood and were simply grateful to be alive. For now at least. That feeling of salvation would fade; they needed to be housed, at least modestly before then.

“Some poor Beast-kin made this,” Rasha mumbled. “Not just one too.”

Rasha finally had received a set of armour, of sorts. Large pieces of roughly hewn iron covered most of her body while she wore gambeson underneath, protecting the exposed joints. It was nowhere near as fanciful as Cetina’s but it was probably more effective. Cetina’s left several glaring vulnerabilities, even if they were camouflaged by bright and loose cloth. Rasha’s long red hair had been cut short too, now just below her shoulders and tied up in a rough braid. She actually looked like a body-guard. Albeit a bodyguard in the provincial frontier.

“True.” Anton took a bundle from Rasha. “But we don’t have much choice. I do understand that it’s funding the Seocurian’s but we’ll get them. You’re just going to have to trust us.”

Kal held similar reservations. She ran her claws over the rough fabric. When she reached the seam her frown deepened. “They’re using Arachnid thread to bind the cotton together.”

“I take it no true Seocurian would be seen dead using one of these.” Verona idly mused.

“I’ve seen stuff like this in Bebbezzar and Graterious,” Cetina said. “I suppose that’s how Seocuria makes a lot of its money. By selling this cheaply. Though they do use things made by the Beast-kin…”

Cetina grunted and lifted the last of the supplies from the portal building. It had taken many trips but they finally had enough for the Dark Elves to take shelter for the night. Obviously solid buildings were preferable but this would certainly do. They could use it for any excursions into the ruined land beyond Atros. The Seocurians hardly had any suspicions. Anton had bought them at relatively high prices, they simply thought they had swindled Anton out of gold. Not that it mattered when he had a silver mine and a chest of gold coins and gems.

“Has Ulyaa said anything about her thread?” Anton patted the cart waiting patiently outside. “It’s been a while.”

“She’s been working hard on it.” Rasha chuckled. “I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it…But she says she’s made a decent amount. I don’t know how people are going to feel wearing something they know has come from an Arachnid.”

Verona laughed. “Their butt at that."

“Oh, but Eider’s said that she has some venom. For your arrows or whatever you wanted for that.”

Kal chuckled. “I lost all the Kobold poison in Nonbur’n. Not that Atros has really be threatened while we’ve been gone.”

“Is that everything?” The Ix driver yelled back.

Anton nodded to the toothy man, the same man that once took them to the lake in the south-east and nearly caused Verona, and many besides her, to vomit from the rough ride.

“Drop it off with the rest. We’ll be there soon.”

The man glanced at the four women near Anton, a devious smile crept up his face. “I can handle it, don’t you worry. If five want to scurry off somewhere I can handle this myself.”

Before anyone could answer the man whipped the reins and the cart was off, carving a path through the modest crowds in this part of Atros. Anton glanced back to find everyone looking more than a little awkward. None of the girls present were fools. The guards standing at attention outside the portal buildings made every effort to show no emotion and avoid eye contact.

“Let’s go,” Anton said. “I want to talk to Leran and Cagec before I move onto more tests.”

“That white spear of yours did some damage to the Goblins.” Verona moved to Anton’s right, while Kal took his left.

“I thought you didn’t use weapons,” Rasha spoke softly. “Not, you know…”

“Melee?” Kal answered.

Rasha nodded. “Yes. Isn’t that one of the reasons that you wanted us as your bodyguards?”

“If it’s fighting people off in melee I can do that.” Verona laughed. “Except if someone knows how to disrupt my magic…” Verona grabbed Anton’s hand. “Do you think Principle Mages could do that? Leave me without any ability to fight. Then I’m basically worthless to you…”

Anton only saw big, wet puppy eyes. “Absolutely you’d be worthless.”

Verona feigned a gasped. “Well, I’m shocked and offended to be your wife. I’ll just have to crawl into our bed and cry myself better.”

“We won’t even be able to sleep there tonight.” Anton sighed. “Never get to spend much time here so the place is always dusty and smells funny. But maybe we’ll have some help with that soon.”

“The twins?” Kal raised a brow, a playful smile crept up her brown face. “They seem pleasant. So far at least.”

“If you need a cleaner I could do it,” Rasha said. “I’m normally free, since you’re not here that often.”

Rasha took several paces closer, which for her meant she was almost on top of them. Verona’s eye twitched violently as she looked up to Rasha. Despite her new armour, it was extremely clear she was a woman. No amount of forming or shape of metal could defeat physics or displace such mass, not without hurting her considerably.

Anton waved down Rasha’s concern. “I don’t even know if I’ll agree to that. We really didn’t have much of a chance to speak before the Goblins began to attack in force. Besides, how can I trust some former pirates with our home the day we meet them?”

“And you’re a little too big.” Verona teased. “That horn of yours keeps hitting doorways even when you try and duck underneath.”

Rasha rubbed her large orange horn. “Most of the time in Seocuria I didn’t have to worry about doors. Here everything’s designed for…people. Short people.”

“I think you might want to rephrase that.” Anton chuckled. “And quickly.”

Rasha tilted her head, Cetina stepped away, before looking down at Verona. Verona was fuming, heavily put on but not entirely.

“Oh. I mean…” Rasha stammered, her hooves struck the ground loudly as she tried to think of a way out.

Verona quickly gave up the pretence and laughed. “I’m joking Rasha. I’m not that annoyed…Maybe a little.”

Verona measured herself against Anton and tapped his shoulder. “I’d like to be at least this tall. That would be nice.”

“Same.” Anton patted Verona’s helmet, a hand running over the light scratch running along the centre. “Now that Gerin has the entirety of the Mainland Clans fighting alongside him the time we can spend in Qaiviel has gone up considerably. Sort that mess out.”

“Gerin’s not too happy with you though,” Verona spoke oddly seriously. “We might need to reduce the numbers of DuskReavers we were planning to take in.”

“We still have the Dwarves to come as well,” Kal added. “I hate to say it.” She glanced back at Rasha. “But they’re probably more important than the Dark Elves, humans or Beast-kin.”

“Because we’re not great miners and smiths?” Rasha tilted her head. “We can still work in the fields. It’s what we’ve been doing our whole lives.”

“I thought you would have wanted to escape that.” Cetina frowned lightly.

Rasha tapped the shaft of her halberd into the crook of her shoulder. “I did.”

They walked silently through the streets of Atros. The crowds parted a way for them, not that Anton was so egotistical to believe that everyone should part for him. To be fair he was flanked by two of the most well-known women of Atros, another wearing bright yellow, blue and red clothes and an armoured blue giant with bright red hair.

The Dwarves work improving Atros continued unabated but Anton didn’t pay it much attention. He was too focused on the north of Atros, where the Green Moon Clan had been housed. If housed was the correct way to put it.

Anton did not pass through the last gate of Atros but took to the wall instead. Visions of Earth came flooding back, of refugee tent cities stretching as far as the eye could see. Thankfully this wasn’t as bad but certainly wasn’t good. The Dark Elves had taken all the land to the west of the main northern thoroughfare, they didn’t need to be told not to make camp on the large flattened clearing where the monstrosity called the Sovereign Palace was going to sit. Anton had yet to see the designs, he hoped they were not too gaudy.

“They seem alright,” Anton observed the tents. “Neatly organised and arranged, with some larger tents for distribution.”

“What about…” Cetina glanced at Anton. “Sanitation? They need somewhere to go for that.”

“I’m worried about that too.” Anton turned to Kal. “I think the smell alone will be bad enough for almost half of our current residents.”

Kal nodded towards Mount Aspire, the snow-capped mountain looming in the distance. “The wind tends to come from the north.”

“Spreading diseases certainly isn’t a good idea, even if we can heal them. Perhaps another artefact will work.”

Verona threw up her hands in annoyance but held her tongue. They left the wall and passed through the open gates into the camp. The Green Moon Dark Elves looked somewhere between elation, overwhelming relief and downright confusion. Many Atros villagers, human and Beast-kin, moved through the camp but only in groups and with some level of security. These were still pirates, though their leader had promised to change he clearly could not speak for everyone. A very close eye would need to be kept on these potential trouble makers. The Dark Elves accepted their hospitality with many thanks and words of appreciation. Their hungry eyes devoured the food but a second before scoffing it down their mouths. Anton realised they were very skinny, not yet malnourished, and very hungry. Their situation was probably far worse than Leran let on. The soundproof padding had more than one purpose.

Did he think I’d want nothing to do with weakened and emaciated people? If it were a normal war, and resources were stretched to breaking there might not be enough for them. Doesn’t matter either way, we have food to spare. So long as we can bring in some more from Seocuria from time to time.

Anton glanced back at the two Beast-kin girls.

Better not let them know where it’s all coming from.

They arrived at the centre of activity for the Dark Elves, the largest tent they had. This was actually brought from The Shadow Isles, not from the Green Moon, and held many Dark Elf motifs. It wasn’t much but it was something to cling to in this strange and alien land.

“So much better than being stuck in that fortress.” Leran laughed as he saw Anton approach. “Ah. There’s another one with you this time. Very interesting. Thank you again for rescuing us.”

“I trust that everything is going well.” Anton stepped underneath the shade of the tent. Rasha had to duck and caught many eyes from the Dark Elves. “There isn’t any trouble, I hope.”

“Everything is going well. As well as can be expected.” Leran smiled. “I’ve been speaking with your Dwarves…Didn’t expect that, and a giant of a human about building some shelters.”

“I’m afraid that we are pushed to our limit here.” Anton bowed his head lightly. “There is only so much that we can do right now.”

Leran waved him down. “Everyone is just grateful to be alive. And well fed.”

“Thank you.” Cagec bowed. “The Green Moon Clan owes you a tremendous debt.”

“Indeed…Have you given much thought to my Granddaughters?”

An odd way to put it.

“I have. But, as of right now, I do not know if it’s a good idea.” Leran remained un-phased by Anton’s words. “Perhaps given time something could be arranged but I have only known you all for a very, very short time.”

“That’s fine.” Leran stood to the side. The twins sat at the far side of the ten, helping distribute supplies. “I just thought it would be better for them to see what this Atros of yours is all about. Actually learn a thing or two…And get out of here.”

Leran shook his head. “Living in these tents isn’t bad, we’ve all been through a lot worse, you haven’t had to live off seaweed and snails, but they should see more than just the inside of these tents. Even I know it’ll take some time to get houses built, if you intend to keep us.”

Anton smiled. “Only if you think the other clans won’t take you in.”

“Then it looks like we’re staying.” Leran whistled loudly. Calo and Sheso snapped to the noise. “Can’t stand any of those gits anyway.”

“Even the Island clans?” Verona asked.

“They’re better than the mainland ones, I’ll give them that.” Leran patted the twin’s shoulders. “Calo, Sheso. I want you two to travel with Anton for a bit. Learn about the place we will call home, for the foreseeable future at least.”

“What about our work here?” Sheso asked, a slight tremble in her voice. “There are still a lot of supplies still to distribute.”

“And…” Calo looked around but couldn’t find the words to convey her nervousness.

Leran patted their shoulders. “It’ll be fine. You do need to get some fresh air and stretch those legs.”

After the incident with the Goblins all the energy has been sapped from you, both of you actually.

Cagec knelt in front of his nieces. “I know you two are very strong.”

The twins still looked very nervous. Cagec slapped his thighs, stood up and gently pushed the two out. “I know that Anton will be glad to have you two helping him, with whatever he needs.”

Cagec smiled. “Besides, you don’t want to spend all day stuck in here with the old men.”

“You’re not that old,” Calo said, a tiny sense of levity returned to her voice. “Yet.”

“I heard that.” Leran laughed.

“We’ll be fine,” Anton said. “Just visiting a few people and then we’ll bring them back safe and sound.”

They gave a small wave before returning to their previous duties. Barely after leaving the large tent the twins stopped, brushing their legs as they desperately tried to stop their shaking limbs.

“Forgive me, Anton.” Calo bowed her head. “I haven’t been feeling very well after…After the Goblins tried to attack me.”

Anton knelt down, waiting until she looked in the eye. “I think that’s the appropriate response. It was only…Just a few minutes ago. But I think that’s normal. I felt that way too when I first met them. We all did, during our first battle. But moving, and in this case, taking a short walk will do wonders. Get some fresh air into your lungs. At least it’ll take your mind off of it.”

“It was just so quick.” Sheso sighed.

“I don’t think we’re good warriors.” Calo shared a glance with her sister. “All Dark Elves can use a bow but we still can’t.”

“You just need practice.” Cetina smiled, thumping her chest. “With enough practice and training, you can become a great warrior. Better at it than anyone.”

Verona shot Cetina a sly wink. Cetina froze for a second before a faint redness began creeping over the tips of her ears. Anton chuckled while Rasha looked on confused.

“Regardless of Verona stirring up Cetina.” Kal gently shook her head. “Where should we head first?”

“Probably best to see how the Chirok’s are going. Hopefully they haven’t done anything too silly.”

“Chiroks?” Sheso asked, a somewhat worried tone to her voice. “You have them here? How?”

“You wouldn’t believe the story,” Kal said. “How much faith do you have in the Old Gods?”

“If they saved us I’ll give them lots.” Sheso laughed. “But…I don’t know much about them.”

Anton began walking towards the west, everyone quickly gave chase. “Think of them as a gift. I know that their feathers are very beautiful. For someone I know.”

“Not yet.” Verona chuckled nervously. “Not yet. I’ve almost finished one. But now you’ve shown me those I need to start thinking more about designs. Seamstresses have such a hard life.”

“What is she talking about?” Rasha asked Cetina softly.

Cetina gave no answer.

“The Chirok’s are to the west…Oh, we should see how Luna’s doing.” Anton smiled. “See if Shawn and Jocelyn are taking good care of her.”

“And Seamus and Lili,” Kal added.

“I wonder if Lerato and Johnathan have hooked up yet.” Verona sniggered. “He was certainly interested in her.”

Anton looked back to Rasha.

Kristof was caught looking at Lerato’s chest…I’ll never forget seeing you three together at once. Maybe Marion doesn’t want him anywhere near there too?

---[]---

“Watch out!” A Smith cried out, dangerously swaying a bundle of recently forged blades. “Little white blob’s running through again.”

“We’re trying to stop her,” Seamus yelled.

He and her sister, Lili, darted through the smiths and apprentices chasing Luna towards the entrance. The workers, though trying their best, had some difficulty seeing the dark-skinned Seocurians in the dim smithy. Luna squeaked and sneezed excitedly as she ran towards Anton. The small Peryton leapt into Anton’s arms and began licking his face.

“Aw. Did you miss us?”

“Hello, Anton!” Lili and Seamus said simultaneously. “We’ve been taking good care of her while you’ve been gone.”

“I didn’t think keeping her in a smithy, with so much noise, is a good idea.” Anton scratched her nose, allowed a few licks of his face before passing her to Verona and Kal.

“Most days Shawn and Jocelyn take care of her,” Seamus said. His eyes wandered over the women for a moment, focusing on the Dark Elf twins longer, before snapping back to him. “But the last few days they’ve been working really hard. Something about arrows…And Luna makes a lot of noise when she’s left alone.”

“Must be because she knows we aren’t coming back any time soon.” Kal scratched behind Luna’s ear. Her claws could reach deeper than fingernails, much to Luna’s enjoyment. “I know I would be pretty upset.”

“How’s your mother?” Anton asked. “Is she getting along with Jonathan?”

“Yes.” Lili frowned lightly. “She spends a lot of time with him now. We just don’t see her as much, outside of work.”

“But we talk with Shawn and Jocelyn a lot.” Seamus smiled. “They’re really nice.”

“We just wanted to stop by and collect Luna. Have the Chirok’s behaved themselves?”

“The big dogs to the west?” Seamus nodded. “Sybil sent people to look after them. I think they’re alright.”

“Anton!”

Jonathan emerged from the small back room, the stash holding their Glyph infused weapons, with Lerato close behind. She now wore something more befitting an assistant to a smith; thick clothes able to shrug off sparks and cinders while providing a modicum of cooling.

“How long are you back this time?”

“Probably until tonight. Maybe. Belinda’s about to reach the Black Rider Fortress and then that’s going to take up most of our time. Oh, and thanks for getting Rasha some armour.”

“I had to do the measuring.” Lerato laughed. “There’s no way that Jonathan could do that. At least without offending her.”

“It’s very good.” Rasha rotated her shoulder, the metal armour ground lightly against itself. “Haven’t actually fought with it yet…”

“Lerato’s children were saying something about Glyph infused arrows?”

“Yes.” Jonathan nodded to his children working over an open furnace, sweat pouring down their faces. They spared a momentary glance and a nod before returning to their work. “It is all back here.”

“I’ll wait out here,” Cetina said, tapping on Rasha’s side.

Rasha smiled awkwardly. “I’m probably too tall.”

Probably not a good idea for the Dark Elves to know what these weapons are. They’ll definitely be worth a small fortune, just for a single dagger.

“Calo, Sheso. Please wait here for a moment. Cetina? Could you take Luna?”

Luna happily squirmed into Cetina’s arms and accepted her scratches. Jonathan led them into the back room. Once it contained just a few weapons and armour that practically shone with the magic of the Old Gods, now it almost overflowed.

“How many?” Verona asked.

“Of each? Twenty swords, forty small shields and ten war hammers. Oh, and fifteen maces. Just the bludgeon types, no spikes yet.”

“No new effects?” Anton rubbed his hand over the rippling pieces of armour. Thankfully he tail didn’t react.

“Nothing so far,” Jonathan said. “But we do have these arrows.”

He produced an arrow but it was very, very different to what Anton was used to. Kal stepped forward and held it close to her face. The arrow’s head, the metal rippling with lightning, was flat and quite wide, like a bullet after striking a hard target. A single fire arrow lay next to a large bundle of blunt lightning arrows.

“So what does the fire do?” Anton asked. “The lightning would destroy the metal armour…”

“Exactly. We have our archers, or crossbowmen, shoot these and destroy the enemy metal armour.” Jonathan looked to Lerato. “Though most of our actual enemies do not use metal. But when we heard about the whole thing in Qaiviel it got us thinking. But the flame….They do not do much. The armour is not broken or weakened, and the archer does not feel anything.”

“Those books that I found, some of the magic don’t look like they’ll be all that useful.”

Kal lowered the arrow. “Aren’t you worried about the enemy getting these? If my army started to lose their armour, where it just crumbled away I’d want to know why.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think it’ll be easy for them to reproduce. Has there been anyone else that’s developed a Glyph?”

“So far, no.” Johnathan smiled. “I don’t want anyone else to go through what my children did without one of you two here to heal them.”

“And that?”

Verona pointed to a small clay pot secured tightly with a metal band. Whatever it was Jonathan didn’t want anyone touching it. A green cross gave Anton some indication of what lay inside.

“What’s that snake girl’s name?” Lerato asked.

“Eider?”

“Yes. That’s her name. She gave Jonathan this and said it was her venom.” Lerato turned to Jonathan, crossing an arm and resting her head in her hand. “I…I don’t know how she did that.”

“We tried and she couldn’t just do it on her own.” Verona shrugged. “Guess she practised.”

Jonathan carefully removed the metal clasp to reveal a thin, faintly yellow liquid. He kept his hands far away from the rim though the jar was only a third full.

“Poison arrow tips?” Kal asked. “Like the Kobold poison.”

“Yes.”

“She said that it doesn’t work if it’s just rubbed onto the skin, it has to go into the blood and flesh. No idea how she did that either.”

“So, I had this idea.”

Jonathan produced a normal iron arrow, except this had a small groove running along the middle.

“Place some dried venom in here. One hit and they will go down.” Jonathan smiled. “I like making these little things with my hands. They are great fun.”

Lerato gave them a wink, one Jonathan didn’t see.

“Jeff will be pleased. I take it you two are getting along well?”

“Absolutely.” Lerato brought Jonathan’s extremely well-muscled arm in between her breasts. “I think we’re getting along great.”

“Shawn and Jocelyn are grateful just to have someone they can speak with.” Johnathan smiled, keeping his arm nestled against Lerato. “After receiving the Glyphs not many wanted to speak with them.”

“We’re getting along just fine.” Lerato smiled at Anton. “Thanks for introducing as, by the way.”

Lerato really took to Johnathan, even after an abusive marriage. Is...Is there a chance she could be under the influence of Strega Magic? I don’t think she’s a Strega Witch but we were fooled before.

“Can I check something?” Anton asked. “On both of you?”

“Sure.” Jonathan and Lerato shared a confused look.

Anton laid his hand upon them and searched for the tell-tale green smoke of Strega Magic. Both made strange noises but he found nothing.

“Mind telling us what that was about?” Lerato chuckled. “It was pretty fun, water tickling underneath my skin, but…”

“Strega Witches. Remember those?”

“Oh…” Jonathan grunted.

“But you’re fine.”

“Cetina will be happy if you can make something that warns us that one of them is in Atros,” Kal said.

“Only once we work out how to make Nodes for Earth Mana.” Anton sighed. “Speaking of, what about the…special items?”

“That is not really my area of expertise.” Jonathan rubbed his hair, throwing lose tiny black flecks of iron and coal. “I can forge things for you but making this recipe, in my smithy without it exploding, I thought was a bad idea. We have most of the raw materials here.”

Jonathan waved to several large crates onto which several glyph infused shields had been placed. “Sybil was a little confused when we got that list. There are a few things we cannot get though.”

“The portals to Seocuria will solve that,” Kal said, a light frown creased her face. “Though I don’t want to give the Seocurian’s any more money. I don’t mean you, Lerato.”

Lerato smiled and waved her down. “Don’t worry about it. A lot of the new Beast-kin give me odd looks but I’m fine with it.”

“Let someone know if it’s getting bad,” Verona said calmly. “There’s no excuse for that kind of behaviour.”

“I will.” Lerato nodded.

“Now, we’ve got some big dogs to see.”

---[]---

The Chirok family lay just outside the latest Atros perimeter wall. Their home was akin to a large stable, overflowing with straw and a massive rock pool to drink from. Judging by the baby Chirok’s diving in and out of the scattered piles of straw, throwing them over their head and at each other, they were certainly enjoying their new surroundings. Both adults lay in the shade created by a large awning, their bat wings pulled close to their feathered body, and dozed lightly while keeping an eye on their children. There were only a few people near the rough enclosure and those were more than willing to have nothing to do with something whose teeth were almost as large as their forearm.

“There should be someone watching over them.” Rasha raised an armoured hand to her brow, just below the base of her horn. "I remember Sybil saying something. Should be two people.”

“Can’t imagine she was too pleased to see these guys.” Anton looked at Luna. “Not after our last creature was something as cute as you.”

“The Chirok’s are cute too.” Verona scratched Luna’s nose. “I’m sure you’ll be just as cute when you get older.”

The adults saw them approach and rose up, the children continued their play.

“Where are those two?” Rasha asked again.

“Which two?” Anton asked.

The adult Chirok’s came to the edge of the wooden fence and rested their heads on the posts. The fences were nothing more than a slight inconvenience for them but they didn’t just jump over or push the fence over. The male sniffed and focused its eyes on Luna, the eyes narrowing as it looked at a potential morsel of food.

“That’s not for you.” Anton scratched their giant noses. “That’s a friend of ours. Okay? Not food.”

Fliodher’s influence continued to have an effect and the Chirok’s backed down slightly. Luna wasn’t going to be left with them anyway.

“Now…” Anton looked back. “Where are the Dark Elves?”

Calo and Sheso hid behind Cetina and Rasha, hiding from the curious gaze of the Chirok’s.

“Is something wrong?” Anton asked, motioning for Cetina and Rasha to step aside. They did so but the twins wanted to follow. “They’re not violent.”

“Look at the size of their teeth!” Sheso reached for her sister. “I’ve never seen them that big before. That fence isn’t going to keep them in there. What’s to stop them from just running at us?”

“To be fair they can fly.” Anton chuckled, patting their snouts again. “One of the reasons why Fliodher sent us to them. But they’re more than pleasant enough. Come on, give them a pat.”

The twins shared a look and gingerly approached the Chirok’s. They looked curiously at the Dark Elves, resting their large head over the wooden railing. Sheso patted them first, her sister was still more than a little rattled after the incident with the Goblins, but the Chirok began to moan happily. Calo braved the distance and patted the other.

“Leran said he’s seen these all over the world.” Calo winced. “When he was…you know.”

“They aren’t native to The Shadow Isles?”

“I don’t think so. They live near the coasts all over the world.” Calo looked to the baby Chirok’s. “But some go there to have babies.”

The babies were no longer playing amongst themselves and stared at them, their tongues hanging out of their mouths while they panted wildly. Slowly they approached, sniffing at the ground and keeping their heads low.

“Where are they?” Rasha asked again. She patted a baby Chirok that clambered up the wooden fence. “Sybil will be furious if they aren’t here.”

“Who even are you talking about?” Anton asked.

Rasha’s eyes widened, she pointed beyond the Chirok’s rudimentary home. From behind a small building, unrelated to the Chirok’s, two people emerged. One was a human woman, a modest build and height with light brown hair and the other a Canine Beast-kin, his fur a dull grey with a short bushy tail. What interested the most was their expressions; it was more hidden by the short fur covering the Canine but the human’s flush was exposed for all the world to see. Not to mention their clothes were fastened incorrectly.

“Sorry.” The Canine yelled. “We were busy with…Something else.”

Anton scanned them up and down as the stopped next to the Chirok’s, who were impartial to their presence. “I bet you two were.”

“I…” The woman looked at the Canine and winced slightly.

“We don’t have a problem with you two having some fun.” Verona laughed. “But it’s probably not a good idea to leave these guys alone. They’re still wild animals.”

“They trust you?” Kal asked.

“No one knows about us.” The Canine chuckled nervously. “Our families wouldn’t approve of us.”

“Can you please keep it a secret?”

“No…” Kal furiously shook her head. “I mean, we will, but how are the Chirok’s trusting you?”

“Oh…Oh!” The canine coughed.

His nose it wetter than normal…Whatever goes, I suppose.

“They were nervous at first but after we began feeding them they really warmed up to us.” The Canine looked to his arms. “For a while, I thought they would try and eat me, since I’m not human.”

Anton nodded. “I think they might just see anyone as food. What are your names?”

“Berus.” The Canine replied. “And this is Aligi.”

“Did you happen to come from Qaiviel?”

“Yes.” Aligi bowed her head. “I believe it was the third group from Duchess Belinda’s land.”

“And you’re okay with the Beast-kin?” Kal asked.

Verona sniggered, folding her arms. “She more than okay with them. Otherwise, she’s got a few interesting kinks.”

Aligi blinked before Verona’s words took hold. She sighed, shook her head, but didn’t look all that unhappy with the implications.

“We just wanted to see how they’re going.” Anton began. “Have they been flying or have they just been resting? I don’t think it really matters either way.”

“The left just a little while ago.” Berus pointed to the west, towards the Accursed Forest. “The adults did. For a while we thought they wouldn’t come back, some people got a bit angry at us, but they came back with a dead wolf. I think they just wanted to hunt.”

“They have to teach the babies somehow,” Cetina said.

“This may sound like an odd request but have they been shedding any of their feathers?” Anton ran his hand through the Chirok’s’ feathers to its skin. “I don’t really want to pluck them like they’re a dead chicken.”

“We do.” Aligi pointed to the side of the Chirok’s home to a large wicker basket, overflowing with black and dark blue feathers. “They dropped a lot the last few days, especially the babies. I don’t think they’re sick, they have new ones coming through.”

“We’d like those,” Anton said. “Do you happen to have a sack or something?”

“I’ll go get them.”

Aligi bowed and hurriedly departed. Some of the baby Chirok’s caught her movement and gave chase, panting and pawing at her, some using the claws form their wings, to get attention. When it was clear they weren’t playing or receiving food they returned to the fence, where actual pats and attention lay.

“From what you’ve seen.” Anton began, Berus snapped his head towards him, even his nose and a few faint whiskers twitched. “How strong are they? Do you think they’ll be able to carry a person?”

Berus looked to the adult Chirok’s. “They were able to carry back a wolf without any problem. At least it didn’t look like it had trouble. Where you would ride, I don’t know.”

“On its back, obviously.” Verona received an odd look. “Not like we’re going to ride in its mouth or on its feet, right?”

“Well…Yes. Obviously.” Berus nodded. “They have a large space on their backs. I suppose you could ride there.” Berus’s face turned to panic. “But please don’t do that. I don’t think any mage that could survive a fall from the clouds.”

“I probably could,” Verona said. “Use my blood to slow me down…Still don’t want to try it.”

“A harness then.” Anton looked at the sky. “I wonder what Atros looks like from above. It’ll definitely save time scouting the old Kingdom. Though it’ll just be a few of us.”

“Definitely not you.” Cetina looked at Rasha. Rasha glumly nodded as Cetina tapped her own side. “Probably me too.”

“Well…We need something lightweight to make the harness. Something like spider or Arachnid silk. Thankfully I have just the person in mind.”

“Right now she should be working on the South Eastern plantations.” Rasha winced lightly. “Hate calling it that, but it’s the truth. I remember her saying she was climbing fruit trees.”

“Better than spending all her time forcing out more silk. Her body can only make so much each day.” Kal frowned lightly. “Speaking of, don’t Minotaurs…”

Rasha shot a very angry glare at Kal, one which took both by surprise. Kal blinked once to recover but didn’t push for an explanation. Rasha realised what she had done and lowered her head. Anton wasn’t offended on Kal’s behalf, more curious as to what had irked Rasha. Cetina didn’t know and frowned deeply at her subordinate.

Well, Minotaurs are essentially bulls, bovines, and cows produce lots of milk…

Anton glanced at Rasha’s chest.

If the Seocurians use Arachnids for silk, who’s to say they don’t use Minotaurs for milk for the other Beast-kin. That alone might account for some of Rasha’s bullying; it would mess me up. Who knows what else happened in that horrible?

“Anyway,” Rasha looked a little relieved the attention was away from her. “We’ll find Ulyaa and get someone to try and make a harness for these guys.”

“Before or after Qaiviel?” Verona asked.

“Definitely after. If something went wrong before…Well, Atros would go on afterwards.”

“Not really,” Verona mumbled.

Anton gently held her shoulder. “How are you two doing?”

The Dark Elf Twins were happily playing with the baby Chirok’s. Their previous fear of the large beasts, not entirely unwarranted, had completely evaporated underneath their loveably noises, encouraging the two to scratch and pat for longer. Every so often a bat wing would reach towards them from a Chirok not receiving attention but Berus gently swatted them away. He kept a very keen eye towards the parents but they seemed unmoved. Luna, who would normally be vying for any and all attention, remained in Verona’s arms keeping a vigilant watch.

“They’re not so scary now.” Calo laughed, giving a baby Chirok’s cheeks a vigorous rub much to its delight. “Just like big dogs.”

“I never saw any in The Shadow Isles.” Anton received only light shrugs from Verona and Kal.

“We had some that we…got…from other places.”

“I hope their original owners are alright.” Verona raised a brow.

Sheso shrugged. “It was our way of life, the way we always did things. We knew it was wrong but it worked for us. We were richer than a lot of the Island Clans.”

“Are any of the Green Moon Clan good with weaving?” Anton asked, waving to the Chirok’s. “Sewing? Considering we have to make something this big.”

Calo and Sheso shared a look. “I don’t know about Arachnid thread, it’s a lot stronger than cotton, but there might be someone that can. But all our stuff is still in The Shadow Isles. And outside the fortress.”

“And covered in Goblins,” Sheso added softly.

Calo tensed at their mention but it faded quickly.

“We can buy all the equipment we need,” Anton said. “Except Arachnid silk. Not the good kind anyway. There’s only one that can give us that.”

---[]---

Humans and Beast-kin worked almost harmoniously with one another as they worked the plantations. Instead of just one harvest a year, like many crops of Earth, they grew much faster. Earth Mana permeating the soil allowed them to grow at an unbelievable rate, but also allowed the monsters to grow extremely quickly. Even with their current magical artefacts drawing a considerable portion of what they were allowed there wasn’t any difference to the growth or quality of the crops.

Earth Mana must be like a switch, either it works or it doesn’t. If we use too much will the plants just die or grow like they would on Earth…Could someone sabotage us by utilising that? Or the other way around? Put dozens of artefacts in Danafra and let the hordes burn it to the ground, after rescuing the Beast-kin of course.

It wasn’t difficult to find Ulyaa. She scampered up the trees, her spider legs finding purchase in the rough bark and propelling her upwards into the small canopy. She could easily reach the top branches, not always with her human limbs but often with an outstretched spider leg to knock the last of the fruit off. Those below waited with baskets held high to catch the falling fruit. One missed and exploded in a shower of sticky and sweet juices. The closest person looked incredibly worried but another allayed their concern. It was just one fruit after all.

“There she is,” Rasha said proudly.

“Yes…” Anton didn’t want to ruin her moment, neither did Cetina though she shot her a strange look.

“Ulyaa?!” Verona yelled.

A head popped above the leaves, scanning wildly for the source of her name. She smiled wildly upon locating them and quickly disappeared into the tree. A large shadow moved through the branches until Ulyaa scuttled along the branched and released her hold, landing heavily on the ground, her long legs acting as dampeners.

“Hello, Verona.” Ulyaa pushed past the crowds after whispering something. “How are you all?”

“Good.” Verona hugged her with one hand, careful not to crush Luna.

“How’s the armour?” Ulyaa chuckled at Rasha. “Eider’s pretty annoyed, you know?”

“That’s the plan.” Rasha smiled.

Ulyaa clapped her hands. “How can I help?”

Anton explained the issue with the harness required to use the Chirok’s as flying mounts. Ulyaa remained perfectly silent, soaking up his words without question and was smiling slightly awkwardly at the end.

“It might take a bit.” Ulyaa leant back and patted the rear of her spider body. “I can only make so much each day.”

“Where’s it currently going?” Kal asked.

“I’m wearing it,” Ulyaa said triumphantly, planting her hands on her hips, at least just above where her human body joined the spider half. “It’s underneath this cloth.”

Ulyaa wore a rough shirt, better than the slave garb but still held many holes, and a skirt. However, some of the holes allowed something light to peek through.

“Jeff and Sybil said that, since I made them I should be the first to try it.” Ulyaa crossed her arms, holding the base of her cloth shirt. “It’s really good. Strong, tough and doesn’t stain easily. Great for working in the field.”

Anton tried to say something but Ulyaa was adamant about partially stripping. With one quick action it was gone, Ulyaa ruffled her hair and held the shirt in one hand. The creamy coloured shirt clung to Ulyaa’s body. Anton tried his best not to stare; Ulyaa probably had one of the best bodies in Atros, even as an Arachnid.

“My thread’s really fine.” Ulyaa stretched out the bottom of the shirt. “So it’s very smooth. And it’s a bit stretchy too. Is that what you want for a harness though?”

Anton leant closer, feeling more than two sets of eyes staring into the back of his head.

“It shouldn’t be a problem.” Anton ran a finger over the weave, an incredibly fine weave made from a very thin thread. “The fact that someone can make a shirt out of it is impressive enough.”

“Jeff said he wanted everyone that worked outside the wall to wear this.” Ulyaa looked to the south. “We’ve been seeing more Goblins lurking to the south.”

“The Lightning Crows are still there, aren’t they?”

“Oh, we see them from time to time.” Ulyaa’s face dropped. “But it’s still worrying to see those Goblins at all. Jeff said he wants us to wear these since they’re really strong.”

Ulyaa reached into a small bag hanging off her waist and produced a small iron dagger. She stabbed the silk shirt repeatedly but it didn’t punch through. Only on the tenth attempt did any of the threads begin to fray.

“So he thought it would good if the workers…” Ulyaa groaned, alongside the other Beast-kin present. “Had good protection if the Goblins or something else managed to get close. We could fend off a few attacks with this. He’s also got Johnathan working on making this silk as some sort of underlay for an armour. Irso says it’s taking a while though.”

“Didn’t see her in the smithy,” Kal said.

“Must be taking a walk then.” Ulyaa’s voice was slightly more robotic and monotone than normal. “But she isn’t running away from her work.”

Anton rubbed the slightly damaged section. He could feel the frayed strands but there were very few. “You’re going to save a lot of lives with this alone.”

Ulyaa smiled. “Thank you, Anton. I can’t do any of the sewing myself but I’ll make as much as I can.”

“We might want some of those as an underlay for our armour.” Anton mused.

“How cool is it?” Verona asked. She revealed the fur covered inside of her armour. “This is enchanted to be cool…Wait. How come that didn’t show up on your dial thing?”

“I…It wasn’t made with Glyph Magic, I know that. Maybe Principle Magic is far more efficient for the mana it takes up. Maybe a tiny fraction for something like that.”

Kal nodded. “Glyph magic is easy to use and powerful but Principle magic is more…”

“Efficient?” Anton said.

“If it can do that, then yes.”

“Is…Is that all you wanted to ask?” Ulyaa tilted her head. “You didn’t need to come all this way just to ask me. Not that I don’t mind talking to you all but there are some places in the plantation that only I can reach easily.”

“Since we have you, I wanted to know how the new Beast-kin are settling in. And the older ones.” Anton looked at Kal. “I know I saw some look particularly nastily at Kal. Though you aren’t a half-breed you could be mistaken for one.”

“Only by humans.” Ulyaa patted her front two spider legs. “There’s no way a human and a giant spider made a baby.”

“Would that even be possible?” Verona asked.

“Absolutely not,” Anton said. “Though, with magic, it might be possible. Who knows what happened all those years ago.”

“I think everything’s going alright. The new Beast-kin are scared and confused, kind of like we were, but nothing too bad.” Ulyaa frowned. “They’re really not happy with the Seocurian’s though. I haven’t seen anything happening but…Well, I hear things. And they aren’t good.”

“The Seocurian’s are all housed in the one area.” Anton began. “So it should keep them separate, at least at night. Not much we can do to fix that. If ever.”

“Each new batch is going to feel the same way,” Kal said softly. “They might be better off back in Jaka. If we can secure it.”

“No new Strohierite stones,” Verona said. “Any more from Ferula?”

“Not yet. I’ll ask Wilford, see what he has to say.”

“If that’s everything I really need to get back to work.” Ulyaa pointed to the group she left. “They’re probably getting a bit impatient.”

“We’ll talk to you soon, Ulyaa.”

Ulyaa waved and scurried back to the other workers. It was very odd to see an Arachnid run from behind. Very odd indeed.

“It might actually be a good idea to send the Seocurians back to Jaka.” Anton mused. “Things will only get worse as more Beast-kin arrive.”

“A few bound Lightning Crows and they’ll be fine,” Verona said. “And a portal back here, of course.”

“Is this what you normally do?” Calo asked.

“When you aren’t fighting in The Shadow Isles?” Sheso added.

“It’s what I’d like to do.” Anton shook his head. “This hasn’t exactly been a normal day. But are you two feeling a bit better?”

“We are.” Calo nodded. “I think the fresh air and getting away from the others, even for a bit, really helped.”

“For this next part, we can’t take you with us. We’ll drop you off and head off ourselves.”

“I didn’t think a human could be friends with so many Beast-kin.” Calo pointed to Ulyaa scrambling up another tree. “They all seem to like you.”

Anton felt gazes trailing over his skull. “From someone like Ulyaa that might actually be a little problematic for me.”

---[]---

Anton stepped through the portal into the musty confines of the cellar of Balefire Mine. The light from the portal, casting bizarre shadows on the walls, greeted him. No Ghlotsm, a relief and a surprise. After spending so long in their home he expected them to tear through everything they touched. Evidently the Ghlotsm weren’t that intelligent.

The four girls stepped through soon after. Rasha had to crouch to avoid scraping her horn on the stone roof, though it was only a slight stoop.

“Why are there so many skeletons here?” Rasha asked softly.

“The poor souls of Balefire Mine,” Anton replied. “Trapped down here when the Ghlotsm overran the land above. They died waiting for help that was simply too late.”

Rasha tilted her head. “You showed me the map before, this place is miles from Atros. Who was coming to help them?”

Cetina grumbled, grinding her foot onto the hard stone. Rasha didn’t understand and looked to Anton for answers.

“Another time. Now, we need to head upstairs and see if the Ghlotsm still are in control.”

“Those columns of Goblins still worry me.” Kal knocked her bow. “Why now?”

“Another Red.” Verona offered.

Cetina and Rasha shared a glance as Anton slowly climbed the stairs. The trapdoor remained completely untouched, just as they had left it. Anton stopped and slowly created the White Marble Spear. With the thin spear held firmly in his hands, Verona stepped forward and opened the trapdoor with her blood shards. With a gentle groan the door opened. Again, the interior of the sorting room was identical, except for a single Ghlotsm in the corner. It lay silent and still, barely breathing as its small sunken white eyes were closed, gently rocking back and forth with every breath.

Here goes.

Anton gingerly approached the sleeping Ghlotsm, completely aware that the slightest groan would alert the creature. A line of wooden floorboards, angled and warped under time and exposure lay but a few meters from the Ghlotsm’s body. It was close enough. Anton threw the spear, catching the Ghlotsm in the chest. It let out a tiny cough as the spear punctured its chest and disintegrated into thousands of tiny cubes. The tip remained embedded in the Ghlotsm, just like with the Goblins, as its skin began to turn white followed by lines of black lightning. Just like the White Goblin its stature and physique improved, modelling itself after the Ghlotsm doll of the White Realm.

“Is it yours?” Verona asked. The blood shards floated above her head, her wrist ready to flick the shards into the Ghlotsm, not that she needed her hands.

“I can feel the link, the tether to my thoughts. Just like the White Goblins before.”

The White Ghlotsm remained completely unmoving, staring at Anton waiting for an order.

“You’ve done this before?” Rasha asked.

“I don’t know what’s happening either.” Cetina shrugged. Rasha took that as her answer.

Kal crept low, steering well clear of the White Ghlotsm, and peered out of the open door to the deep open cut mine. “I don’t see any Goblins. Just Ghlotsm. A lot of Ghlotsm.” Kal chuckled as she returned to Anton’s side. “Those eggs survived.”

“And the plan?” Verona asked. “There wasn’t much of one beyond get here and see if it works.”

Anton moved to the doorway overlooking the open cut mine, the girls close behind with their attention focused squarely on the White Ghlotsm.

“The Goblins, and to a lesser extent the Ghlotsm, are like a cancer eating away at civilisation. They infest the Kar Kingdom and it’ll take ages before we can clean them out. They’ll have thousands of tiny little holes and crevices they can scurry away to. And it’ll cost a massive amount of time, money and manpower to scour them from the land.”

“So…” Verona tilted her head.

“I intend to use this cancer to fight another.” Anton turned to the Ghlotsm. “Infect every Ghlotsm in Balefire Mine. Start with the extremities then work your way into the centre.”

The White Ghlotsm grunted, more a wet gurgle, something Anton didn’t expect and ran out the small entrance. Outside it descended upon four young Ghlotsm, Anton presumed they were young since their skin was still soft and lacked scars. They were unprepared and received strikes from the White Ghlotsm’s claws to their arms and throats. Three began to transform while one, despite receiving the same treatment, remained the same. The first White Ghlotsm ripped the uninfected’s head off and let it fall limp to the ground. Anton felt only one tiny surge up his tail, slightly less than a Yellow Goblin. The White Ghlotsm’s waited until the transformation was complete before moving again. Anton couldn’t feel anything from the newer Ghlotsm directly, instead he could feel there were other threads connected to the White Ghlotsm from those infected.

It found another small group of Ghlotsm and repeated the same attack. Again about a quarter were unaffected by the corruption and were killed.

Anton wanted to climb back up the stairs, to get a higher view of the mine, but worried about Rasha’s weight breaking the weak wooden beams. Though only he could feel it the White Ghlotsm was effectively tearing its way through the town of Balefire Mine. It sent a message of sorts to Anton, that every Ghlotsm in the town had been killed or transformed. Anton directed the White Ghlotsm to attack those within the mine.

Kal grabbed Anton’s arm hard as the sound of hundreds of feet striking the dry grass entered the room. The White Ghlotsm’s ran past, not taking a glance back, and dove into the mine. There were many more Ghlotsm inside the mine than out.

“Cetina? You’re the combat expert out of us. How are the White Ghlotsm’s performing?”

Cetina raised a hand to her brow. “They’re doing slightly better than the normal Ghlotsm. Their claws are longer and sharper, so they can inflict more damage. So I think they’re slightly stronger but there are fewer of them.”

“That’s not a problem.” Anton smiled. “I’m just glad this worked.”

A minute passed in silence before the lead White Ghlotsm told Anton it was over; not an actual message but just a feeling, a soldier confirming its assigned orders had been completed.

“Come on.” Anton waved them forward. “Let’s take a closer look.”

Cetina and Rasha took their flanks, constantly scanning the buildings above, after Cetina directed Rasha while they stood at the centre. The old iron rail tracks, heavily rusted and broken in several places, led them down an extremely gentle slope to a large wooden platform sitting on the edge of the mine. They were not willing to stand on it, much of the wood looked old and rotten, but the empty cart gave him some reassurance, just not enough.

The mine travelled even deeper than Anton first thought. A downward spiral had been cut into the silver laden stone, circling down and down into the depths. At the bottom something blue reflected the sun’s rays; Chelium ore, an extremely strong and valuable metal.

“Definitely wasn’t what they were expecting when they found this silver,” Anton said.

“There’s so much here.” Rasha blinked her eyes in amazement. “Tonnes upon tonnes of silver…You’re probably one of the richest people in the world just from this.”

“Get in line.” Verona laughed.

“I wonder if they can dig the silver free.” Anton rubbed his chin. “Probably not. Claws aren’t much use against metal, as we well know, but this is a good start.”

“I don’t like the idea of you keeping slaves,” Kal spoke softly. “Even if they are monsters.”

“It would set a bad precedent. But I don’t intend to keep them forever. They’ll work wonders against the normal ones running free. What are they doing to the eggs?”

The Ghlotsm eggs, safely nestled in a mixture of some shiny material that looked very reminiscent of spit, had several White Ghlotsm’s moving towards them. They scratched the egg and the colour changed. They were already lightly coloured but they turned stark white, just like everything from the White Realm.

“I can sort of feel those eggs too,” Anton said. He received four worried stares. “Not directly. But through that first Ghlotsm. It’s like he, whatever they are now, is controlling them for me. That makes things a lot easier.”

The first White Ghlotsm approached him, with every infected Ghlotsm watching with a blank stare. It stopped some meters away and looked blankly into Anton’s eyes.

“Can you dig up the silver?”

The Ghlotsm shook its head.

“I take that’s a no,” Verona said softly.

“Very well. Build up your numbers…”

“What’s wrong?” Verona leant forward, craning her head towards him.

There’s a chance that they’ll take ‘Build up your numbers’ at face value. And since they’ll have Goblins there are only one way for those to breed up quickly. And only one place to get them from…I need to be careful here.

“Build up the numbers of Ghlotsm and infect or eradicate every Goblin and Ghlotsm in the Kar Kingdom from the northern mountain range to the capital of Surdon. Once that is done…You are to throw yourselves into the ocean.”

“Wow…”

The White Ghlotsm returned to the mine along with its fellows and returned to doing whatever these creatures did in their spare time. Several began to move among the clutches of eggs and preparing new sites. It turned out they really did use their own spit to create it. Thankfully Anton wasn’t aware of it through the thought tether.

“Is this a good idea?” Rasha asked, leaning on her halberd. “Can you actually control them?”

“Yes. But if something happens I’ll destroy them. I sincerely doubt they’ll actually manage to wipe out the Goblins and Ghlotsm but they’ll take them down a few notches. That’s all I’m really hoping for from this. Just buying us some time and weaken the enemy.”

“What a strange new ally.” Verona laughed.

“Let’s leave them to it,” Anton said. “Let them deal with the old Kar Kingdom. And when they’re done it’ll be ours to take.”

Chapter 140 - Vol 4 - Quick Foray

Chapter 140:

Anton gripped Verona’s waist tight, the Jaguar Mount riding fast through the thick undergrowth of The Shadow Isles. Though the light was fading there was no way that he could just leave the Dark Elves without at least attempting to test creating another White Goblin. The White Ghlotsm continued to run rampant through the desolate lands of the Kar Kingdom, growing in number at a staggering rate. Even if it wasn’t enough to destroy the Goblin threat, the lands fifty miles to the south of Surdon was off limits to them and would continue to provide fertile ground for the Goblins and other monsters, it would certainly diminish their strength.

He had little time left in The Shadow Isles, in Qaiviel things were not well. Rumours abounded of hordes of silent soldiers, destroying villages and kidnapping every man, woman and child, and of the Ghostly Knights following them. Even if these were nothing more than the superstition of fearful and overly paranoid farmers and peasants he wasn’t about to take that chance, especially with Cetina and Duchess Belinda continuing to march quickly through the dimming light.

“Still too many here.” Anton patted Verona’s side. “Keep going until there’s just a few of them. I know that’s a little hard here.”

Verona merely returned a nod and spurred the beast onwards. The goblins in this area were particularly thick. Dark Elf tactics, surging back and forth, drawing the Goblins out and peppering them with arrows, continued to work wonders but there were too many for the White Goblin to take root. The budding infestation would be torn apart by the other Goblins and the Dark Elves, who would only think that something terrible was coming for them.

As they travelled further towards the coast the fighting ebbed and waned until, with the distant crashing of the sea upon stones, the fighting all but ceased. These Dark Elves were relaxed and inattentive. Almost. Only a few were on guard and fighting the few Goblins roaming near the camp. These large camps behind the front lines, containing hundreds if not thousands of tents, were centralised hubs where the tired and wounded could find respite. These obviously had been in existence for some time now but were now standardised and heavily protected. While this looked standard the defence was anything but.

“Salvira?” Anton turned to the large Jaguar mount, its light red coat shining in the afternoon light. “Aren’t these your people?”

Salvira glumly nodded. She elected to join them, to not only guide and smooth over ruffled feathers but also to get away from the worst of the frontline. She knew that with them she would be safe. Relatively, of course.

“Yes…At least the guards are.”

“We’ll whip them into shape.” Anton shook his head. “If that Red Goblin decided to attack here they could easily reach your island before your forces could counter it. It’s not far from the last camp, but this is away from the main fighting…It’s still worrying.”

Salvira gripped her reins tight. At the best of times, she spoke with a soft voice, except when their lives depended upon it, and Dark Elves camps could become rather rowdy. The few guards alerted the others to their presence but the camp remained mostly quiet and disinterested.

"Hey!" Salvira's voice was still too soft. She cleared her throat and straightened her back. "Hey! Why are you not on guard? Who is your commander?"

The closest guard, wearing a tassel of the Wind Runners, squinted before realising who she was.

"He's in the command tent." The guard pointed to the largest tent near the rear of the camp. "Do you want me to tell him you're here?"

Salvira shot a glance at Anton. He wasn't here to stiffen Dark Elf resolve, merely to warn them of their testing, but he would help if necessary.

"No." Salvira relaxed her posture but didn't fold in on herself. "I will see him now. Who is the commander anyway?"

"Macura, of The Astrals."

Salvira's face dropped slightly. "Mainlander Clan…Very well."

The guard bowed and allowed them access. It looked exactly like every other military camp on The Shadow Isles, except these tents were larger and more ornate, several held large tears and scratches, hastily repaired. The Islander camps had no such issues, even after a Goblin attack.

Designed more to demonstrate wealth and prestige rather than function. I wonder how they are faring?

Anton's eyes quickly fell on a small gathering of Dark Elves around a fire. Their tassels were unknown to him, presumably The Astrals Mainland Clan. Each held a distant yet withdrawn look, they had seen conflict in all of its visceral horror and there was no glory to be found fighting Goblins. Some tried to eat food, spurred on by those with some life in their eyes, but they moved very slowly. Food no longer tasted appealing to those that had stared down death, especially when those you knew didn’t.

"First bit of shell shock." Anton mused, only to receive spattering of confused faces. "They're simply overwhelmed by what they've seen."

"And by what the Island Clans have fought, almost nonstop, every day." Kal looked to the other side. "They've had it easy inside their cities, away from this."

"Until now." Anton continued. "But living by the skin of your teeth for twenty winters makes you tough. Right?"

Kal smiled. "You don't have much of a choice if you want to survive. And I certainly did. But I would certainly have preferred to be born a human in Atros."

"No tail?" Verona gasped. "Or fluffy ears? What are you thinking?"

Kal gently scratched the tips of her ears. "That would be a problem, wouldn't it?"

The tents grew larger until they reached the command tent. It sat on the only point that could be considered a hill on these forested plains, beyond that the tents extended at least twice as far as the front. The Astrals clearly had many warriors to spare, especially given their lack of combat until recent. A small group of guards languished outside the command tent, wearing the colours of The Astrals.

“A mainland clan is in charge?” Anton asked.

The Dark Elf guards only then reacted and readied themselves for a potential fight when they had essentially walked on top of them.

“They…” Salvira took another deep breath. “Even with Gerin’s orders, they have tremendous wealth and power. It’s kind of hard for our forces, thin as they are, to resist their authority.”

Salvira overlooked the camp. “Most here are Astrals.”

“And the ones not on guard.” Anton patted her shoulder, Salvira didn’t recoil but looked slightly confused. “Let’s see what this commander has to say. I don’t think humans will have much influence over a Mainland Clan. In fact, it might make things worse.”

“They don’t like us either,” Salvira said dryly.

“True. But at least they know you.”

Salvira took another deep breath as they entered the tent. Lavish goods and furniture, inappropriate for the frontline, adorned the interior. Three Dark Elves sat around a large table, filled with wine and food. They looked as concerned with their presence as they were maintaining the front.

“Who are you?” One asked, the youngest of the Dark Elves asked.

“Salvira of the Wind Runners.” Salvira gripped her hands tight. “We were about to alert you to an experiment our allies are about to conduct, so your warriors won’t interfere, but it seems that you are already incredibly relaxed. Especially given the Goblins constant attacks.”

Another Astral leader grumbled. “Hmph. Some Islander telling us how to conduct the war. As per usual.”

Salvira held her ground. “The Mist Walkers have given Gerin of the DuskReavers total control of the Dark Elf forces. And that includes your forces. And you will follow his orders.”

“But you aren’t Gerin.” The third smirked, leaning further back into his chair. “So why should we listen to you?”

He pointed to the tassel just beneath her neck. “Wind Runners aren’t DuskReavers.”

“True…” Salvira pursed her lips. “But you will still listen to us. I don’t know which one of you is Macura but you will listen to me. Our island is just beyond the trees. And our warriors have been fighting while yours have not. Should they break through our home will be practically undefended. And…”

“They won’t break through.” The first, Anton presumed he was Macura, waved dismissively. “Their attacks have been repelled with ease.”

“You haven’t seen them attack in a true horde,” Anton said, taking a step forward. “Where the very ground is transformed in a writhing mass of flesh and claws. I suggest that you stop acting so complacent and ready your soldiers for a possible attack. Besides, isn’t the order to attack and destroy the Goblins wherever possible?”

The three grumbled.

“So long as you maintain the line everything is fine.” Salvira sighed. “Actually maintain the line. But you should still increase your vigilance. Otherwise, I’ll inform Gerin that you aren’t pulling your weight and you can deal with the Mist Walkers. I remember Vonkal mentioning something about the Astrals not paying their taxes, something about a hidden gold mine.”

All three tensed. Anton forced himself to not crack a smile, all of Salvira’s words and authority meant nothing compared to one mention of the Mist Walkers. And the dreaded word tax.

Whatever works.

“And what do you want from us?” The second Astral asked.

“Anton is about to test a potential Anti-Goblin weapon, one that may overturn the entire war.” Salvira smiled. “They need everyone to be aware and not attack any Goblins that start behaving oddly.”

Macura sighed. “What sort of Goblins are we looking out for? We’ve been told there are more than just Yellows and Greens.”

“Apparently there are Goblins that have skin as dark as night.” The second added.

“There are.” Anton nodded. “Think of them as…Local commanders. But we will be creating White Goblins. And they’ll attack every other Goblin they can find.”

“They’ll fight for us?” The third looked to the others rather intrigued. “So we don’t have to fight?”

“That’s the plan,” Anton said. “If we can get enough of them they won’t be able to be stopped, they’ll grow faster than they can be killed. What better way to defeat the enemy than using their own against them? I think both Islander and Mainlanders can agree on that.”

The three leant close to whisper amongst themselves. Anton tapped Salvira’s back.

“Reinforce what you’ve just said about needing to work together and keep a vigilant watch. They’ll probably listen now.”

Salvira silently nodded. “Shame that they need outside help to see reason. They didn’t even question that you’re a human.”

“It did for the Mist Walker elders. There’s no way they don’t know about us. I’m sure stories about us travelled like wildfire, though perhaps not exactly what we’ve done. Maybe the stories got overblown as the stories travelled?"

Salvira loudly tapped her boot. “Lords of The Astrals. I ask that you get your warriors in line and ready for anything. Actually get them into guard rotations and on alert. We need everyone ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Especially given the Goblins ability to strike without warning and massive numbers.”

The three gave each other a small nod. Macura rose up and trundled outside. He returned a few moments later with a brighter expression.

“Very well. All the warriors have been told to be on the lookout for a White Goblin and not to attack it. Unless it attacks us first.”

“And everyone will follow this order?” Anton asked.

“They will.” The third sneered. “The Mainland Clans know how to obey orders.”

Something about hypocrisy…

“I certainly hope so.” Anton turned to the entrance. “We’ll be taking the Wind Runner warriors with us, for the time being at least, for the experiment. I’m sure that with everyone on alert you won’t miss them, though they are the majority of those on guard and patrol…”

The Astrals tensed. “Of course. That won’t be a problem.”

“Excellent.” Salvira bowed. “I’ll make sure Gerin and the Mist Walkers know how helpful you were during this experiment.”

Again the three grew elated by the prospect of buttering up the upper echelons of Dark Elf society. Anton wanted to speak again but held his tongue, smiled and left with the others.

Outside, and well clear of the guards Salvira grunted and kicked at the dirt. “I was hoping that this would go easier. Do you want us to come with you or be in support?”

“Right behind. Just in case something happens and we need some extra support, a few hundred arrows to whittle down their numbers.”

“And you think this will actually work?” Salvira asked. “That it could be over very soon?”

“Absolutely,” Verona smirked. “You didn’t see the White Ghlotsm’s in Balefire.”

Salvira looked on confused. Soon she would understand.

---[]---

Kal took the lead of their small force, only after The Astrals replaced the Wind Runner guards, much to their annoyance. They brought several hundred warriors, warriors whose training and skill were worth several humans. Verona and Salvira rode their Jaguar Mounts, Salvira at the centre of the Wind Runners to the rear, while Anton and Kal moved on foot. The Goblins continued to attack in small waves, nothing they couldn’t handle, but not small enough that the transformed White Goblin could safely transform and reach critical numbers in relative safety. Anton had no idea what that number might be.

“There.” Kal tapped his arm. “One near that bush.”

Anton followed her line to a small Green Goblin lurking near a bush. Unlike the other Goblins, continuing to occasionally burst out of the darkness only to be slaughtered, this was too nervous to attack. Greens were the weakest and most cowardly of their race, always relegated to being fodder and bullied by the other colours. If they weren’t pushed or had the overwhelming numerical advantage it was unlikely they would attack. It bodes well for the lack of a Black Goblin in the area to continuously push them forward.

“I wonder if this is the right one.” Anton mused. “If it’s going to remain weak…Well, it shouldn’t be able to resist them.”

“Is that White Ghlotsm doing something?” Verona asked.

“No. But I wonder if there’s a limit.” Anton shrugged. “Like if I try to make too many they just die or something bad happens to me…Well...”

Anton silently cursed the lack of knowledge about this school of magic. Ferula still had found nothing, not that he should rely on her for everything, and he didn’t want any more transformations. It would become exceedingly difficult to move if he became anything like the dragon doll.

The constant dying Goblins had given Anton a decent charge up his tail, more than enough to create the Marble Spear. The Dark Elves murmured surprise as they watched the white spear emerge from the black lightning. Salvira said something but Anton focused on creating the spear properly, he didn’t want to get this wrong. With the Marble Spear in his hand he readied to throw it but hesitated. The Goblin was rather far away. He could probably hit it but there was a chance he could miss. However, it was in range of something else.

“Verona? Can you bring that Goblin a little closer? Don’t kill or maim it. I don’t want to miss.”

A blood shard shot through the air before wrapping itself around the Goblins foot. It shrieked, hammering at the hardened blood with its fists and a sharpened stick as it dragged along the ground. Verona stopped it within easy range.

Anton threw the Marble Spear, puncturing the chest of the prone Goblin and sending it flat. The spear fell to one side as the handle began to disintegrate, the blade of the spear was almost as large as the creature's chest, while Kal shot the few Goblins that wandered to investigate. The Green Goblin slowly rose up with only the broken blade of the spear embedded vertically in its chest. The shaft completely broke away and disintegrated into a million tiny white cubes to blow away in the wind. From the wound its green skin grew white, black lightning marks radiating out. Its joints and bones clicked and grew, its body grew to the same size and near regal nature of the previous White Goblins. There appeared to be no distinction between it, regardless of its origins.

Another mental connection grew out of the ether. It was slightly different from the Ghlotsm. This creature had more…aggression. Not rebellion but an actual desire to fulfil an order, more than it had the capacity to want something.

“I wonder if you’ll grow in strength the more you collect.” Anton mused, the White Goblin standing perfectly still as Kal felled a Yellow Goblin lunging to attack it. “Zero multiplied by a thousand is still zero.”

“What are you saying?” Verona asked.

“Just a slight concern. But nothing that we can’t handle.” Anton clapped his hands. “Corrupt every Goblin you can find and kill those that can’t.”

With the verbal order given the White Goblin slashed its claws at a nearby Green Goblin. It screeched loudly as its chest was cut and the white corruption rapidly consumed its body. However, he remained small albeit more upright and less…rotten.

Kal quietly asked the Dark Elves to move forward and help the White Goblin by thinning the Goblins. As the Goblins were not able to overwhelm the growing Whites, his Goblins did take losses but were replaced faster than they could fall, the horde quickly grew. Kal ordered the Dark Elves back as the horde grew to several hundred and began drawing attacks away from the frontline.

“Anton.” Salvira rode forward, bringing some Dark Elves with her. “May I have a moment?”

“Of course.” Anton glanced to the White Goblins. Though the darkness of night had all but overtaken The Shadows Isles he could see their white hides darting through the undergrowth already a hundred odd meters away and continuing to swarm throughout the forest.

“I don’t mean to question you but is this the best way to use the White Goblins?”

“Do you think we should be using them as meat shields?” Anton asked flatly. “Or as some sort of shock troop?”

“Either.” Salvira frowned lightly. “I’m curious why you’re not using our forces to support them, deal with any large group they can’t immediately overcome. The Astrals have many warriors they could actually send forward. I’m sure they have many more just behind their main camp they could actually use to attack. Even the nearby camps. I spoke with a few of the warriors…”

“This is just a test,” Anton replied. “I can see why Vonkal had you at his side, you can very easily tell the best ways to use them. However, I only have a little longer before I need to return to Qaiviel. If we can just take down a few hundred than this is a tremendous success.”

“All these dead Goblins for just a few arrows?” Verona shook her head. “If only we had this at the beginning.”

“True…Wait. Something’s wrong.” Anton said softly. “They’re…They’re losing?”

“What?” Verona rose up on her Jaguar Mount. “How? There’s hundreds of them.”

Anton searched through the thought tether to the White Goblin. The creature wasn’t concerned with the losses, only sending a returning message that something was wrong. Even with their high corruption rate their numbers were still diminishing. Unfortunately, all the information he received was very vague, other than they were losing more than they were gaining.

Anton grumbled and returned to Verona’s mount, jumping up and holding her sides. “Take us closer.”

“Better have some more blood.” Verona reached for her small blade.

Salvira whistled to the patiently waiting, albeit still slightly confused, Dark Elf warriors. She waved them forward, issuing orders only to attack the regular Goblins while remaining behind Anton. Kal mounted her mount and readied her bow. Anton felt the White Goblin send more and more messages as they approached the fighting. Immediately the reason became clear.

The normal Goblins were behaving oddly. They weren’t acting as a mindless horde. Instead of their normal mad charge, screaming and waving whatever improvised weapons they could acquire, they hanged back, using slings, throwing spears and javelins to whittle down their numbers while maintaining a safe distance.

“Our own tactics used against us…Where are the Blacks?” Anton turned to Salvira, leading the Dark Elves from deep in their midst. “They’re the only ones that could do something like this.”

“And the Red,” Verona added softly.

“I can’t see anything,” Kal grumbled. “It’s too dark.”

Anton summoned two Small Lightning Crows and threw them into the air. The small creatures flew through the canopy, darting and weaving through the branches, never once touching a leaf or making a sound. Anton ordered the creatures to attack every Black Goblin they could find, even though he could barely see a thing. Almost instantly two lightning bolts shot out and cut the darkness. Two Goblins, hiding in some bushes far behind the front, shrieked and fell over dead.

“Pity I can’t see what you can,” Anton mumbled.

Despite the dying Black Goblins, the coordinated attacks continued, whittling down the White Goblins until their numbers were fewer than two hundred. Anton began to resign to himself that the experiment was a failure, of sorts. While it hadn't snowballed into a massive horde the number of Dark Elves risked for thousands dead was essentially zero.

Not bad overall. If nothing else it'll take the edge off. Once things settle in Qaiviel, like we’re settling up in that Castle Etoile for a few days, we’ll try this again. Is it the Red that's coordinating them like or is it just their sheer presence that’s making them act coordinated? What does Grekka mean anyway?

Anton pulled back lightly on Verona's waist, the small force accompanying also stopped. Something caught his eye through the dim light. A flash of a dull red in the far distance.

"That bastard's here." Anton summoned a Large Lightning crow. "If we can kill him we can take out their whole leadership."

"I see him.” Kal drew the Fire arrow as far as the Dark Elven bow would allow, spoke a soft prayer as her arms began to tremble, and loosed.

Anton enchanted his vision while gripping tighter to Verona’s waist. The arrow careened through the canopy, missing every branch and leaf, but it was not to be. A disk of a blue energy erupted before the diminutive Red, catching the arrow and rendering it harmless. The Red turned to his side towards a pair of blue Goblins, holding their gnarled fetish staves towards the energy shield. With a visible sigh they both lowered their staves and the shield faded away, the red fire arrow landing helplessly on the grassy ground. Only then, with the bright light of the shield, did Anton realise the gigantic Black was standing by his side.

"Kill the Red Goblin!" Anton yelled towards his creatures. He heard the Dark Elves begin to move but he raised his hand. They were several hundred meters away at best, and they had no idea how many Goblins or traps could be lying in wait.

The White Goblins surged towards the Red, forming a tight wedge through the undergrowth. Their tight formation left them exposed to coordinated ranged attacks as they were no longer applying pressure along the entire front. The normal goblins threw everything their grubby little hands could find, even clods of dirt they had mistaken for stones. Anton's White Goblin alerted him to the losses they were taking but Anton didn't care. They were ultimately disposable.

The Lightning Crows darted towards the Red. Its humanoid face flashed annoyance at the possible lethal attack. After a quick screech towards the Blues his two Small Lightning Crows vanished, thrown back into the ether. The Large Lightning Crow folded its wings in and dived towards the Red. One of the Blues threw up its shimmering shield and the other began to chant to destroy his summon. Anton mentally ordered the Lightning Crow to ram the Red Goblin, if nothing else it would drain the strength of the Blues. The giant Black Goblin, unusually still, twisted back and threw his Adamantium mace at the Large Lightning Crow. The white metal weapon struck the creature on the head, destroying it completely and sending it back to the ether.

“Shit.”’

The Adamantium mace bounced up before landed hard on the ground, embedding itself several inches into the ground. The large Black Goblin raced forward and retrieved the mace, returning to the Red’s side with a happy, expectant look. For a moment Anton thought that it wanted to be praised, like some sort of loyal dopey dog. A slight smile crept up the Red’s face, but it could have been a contemptuous sneer.

The White Goblins were all but decimated as they reached the Red. The remaining four corrupted White Goblins fell to dozens of spears tearing through their skin, leaving just the original. The Red snarled and backed away, shifting behind the gigantic Black Goblin. The Black lunged forward and cracked the White Goblin in the side of the head with its mace, splattering its blood and brains over the grass and trees. The thought tether snapped, unlike the more pleasant fading of his normal summons, as the Black looked to the Red again for praise. This time the Red gave him something, a screech that could have been mistaken for thanks. The Red turned to the Blues but they were struggling to stand. Its face curled up into a sneer, both eyes narrowing towards Anton.

As Anton created another batch of Lightning Crows, to overwhelm the weakened Blues, the Red slinked back into the darkness along with its bodyguard.

“Why is he here?” Anton deactivated his eye enchantment. “Is it for me? No. They don’t have mounts and we didn’t stop in the camp for long. So…”

“Do you know what he’s doing?” Verona asked softly.

Anton looked back, back to the torch lights flickering in the distance. Already they had advanced some way into the forest. This left them without support and the defensive lines, already somewhat weak and fragile, without hundreds of seasoned warriors.

“Retreat to the defensive lines.” Anton summoned another three Small Lightning Crows. "I think we just spoiled an attack. What luck?"

Anton ordered the Lightning Crows to attack the Blues. Two were destroyed, banished before they could attack, while the remaining killed the two Blues. Anton directed the crow to hunt down the Red but he was already beyond their range. Anton cursed missing the chance to cut the enemies head.

Did he get carried by that Black Goblin? I’m sure it could move very fast, just because it’s big doesn’t mean it’s slow.

"Anton!" Kal's voice trembled. "Hundreds! Hundreds are coming!"

The bushes, where the Blue's corpses lay, blew apart with a tide of Goblins. Greens and Yellows scrambled over one another to reach them first. Anton threw two Lightning Lances at the leading edge, blunting the charge. He and Kal fired off small attacks to stem the tide while Verona directed her shards to kill anything that made it through. Upon reaching the defensive lines, Salvira yelled and the Dark Elves readied themselves for the inevitable attack. The Astral warriors were stunned until the Wind Runners stiffened their resolve. With the momentary shock of the wave of Goblins gone professionalism took hold and they fired volley after volley into the Goblin hordes. Their numbers were simply too great for the arrows alone, Anton created several Lightning Rings and released them over the Goblins.

After several minutes, and a veritable mountain of corpses later, the Goblin attacked ebbed and faded away. The Dark Elves were exhausted, their hands shaking as they tried to draw on their bows. The Astrals hadn’t prepared the massive stashes of arrows like the Islander Clans, they were lucky the battle ended when it did. Most quivers were empty, those Dark Elves looked especially relieved. Anton created another Lightning Crow and sent it into the forest to attack Goblins within range. The echoes of lightning trailed the few retreating Goblins. With the battle essentially over and the Dark Elves taking stock of their expenditure of ammunition, Salvira manoeuvred her way to Anton.

“How did you know they would attack?” Salvira asked, bringing her mount closer to Anton. “A huge army like that? If we hadn’t of been here they could have broken through.”

“I…”

Should I pretend I knew it was coming? Maybe being overly humble isn’t always the right choice.

“I had a suspicion.” Anton began. He pointed towards the sounds of the sea crashing upon rocks. “Your island is right there, isn’t it?”

“It is…”

“But most of your people are here, on the mainland. So who’s left there to protect the women and children?”

“Women and children that could be used to create more Goblins,” Kal added softly.

Salvira’s body tensed. “My…My family is there. My husband and children…” After a calming breath Salvira slowly nodded. “Thank you.”

The lightning echoes faded away before the Lightning Crows returned to Anton, their mission complete. Even though he had enough charge to create more Marble Spears the Goblins had completely disappeared. They were safe, for now at least.

Anton smiled. “I’m just glad that we were here to catch them. At least, I hope that’s what the Red was planning. It’s what makes the most sense, expand the front and get around the land bridges to run rampant. That would set everything back by months…Do you think that it’s luck that he turned up here?”

Verona leant onto the head of the Jaguar. “If it weren’t for both of you this could have gone terribly.” She waved to the Dark Elf camp. “I doubt they’d have put up much of a fight on their own.”

“Indeed.” Salvira ran a hand through her hair. “Gerin and Vonkal need to hear about this. Hear how badly some of the Mainland Clans are actually taking this. If it weren’t for you we could have lost everything…Maybe send some Islander warriors to keep these in check. Most of the fighting is near the centre with our clans…”

Salvira quickly grew lost in her thoughts and quietly trailed off.

Kal dismounted from her mount and gently scratched its cheeks. “Unless that Red’s drawn to you, Anton. They didn’t react like those in the Green Moon Fortress. No screaming but they did try and attack them first.”

“I wonder if the Red followed me…No. They can’t move that first. Maybe with that giant Black it could. I think it’s just lucky that we managed to meet them.”

“I wonder if you’re drawing them to you after that whole thing…” Verona rested her head upon the Jaguar’s. “Any Goblin attacks in Qaiviel? They have them there, right?”

“None. But they’re kept more under control there.” Anton looked to the Dark Elf camp. “But I need to return to Qaiviel. We’ll try this again next time I’m free…I don’t know when that will be but I’m sure the Dark Elves can now win on their own…Mostly. Now that they’re actually working together. Shame we couldn’t get the Red.”

“Healing the Dark Elves is certainly going to be the best use of my powers,” Kal said calmly. “Though healing them just to send them back into the fight…” Kal smiled. “It’s better than being left without an arm for the rest of your life. Quite a long life too. Keeps them going too.”

“I’ll stay as well.” Verona tapped Anton’s hand. “Make sure Kal’s safe and deal with anything more like this. If it gets dangerous in Qaiviel have me swap with Cetina, we’ll bring some Dwarves here if it gets really bad. Just to look after the portal.”

Verona gestured to the pile of corpses. “This is a little much for them to deal with alone. How…How many Goblins are there on this island?”

“Far too many.” Anton smiled. “But a whole lot less now.”

Chapter 141 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 141 Pt.1:

Anton watched the sun begin to sink low over the open grasslands of Qaiviel. Like Atros and the vast majority of the Kar Kingdom, most of the lands were open with only a few forests and hills to break up the monotony. Their column of soldiers and mercenaries, slowly growing with every town and village they passed, snaked through an open forest following a rough dirt road clearly not often used.

“I don’t like this,” Conrad said quietly to Anton, Cetina pulled her horse close. “It feels just like the Accursed Forest. It’s all too quiet…And there are things rustling in the shadows.”

Some of the grasses and shrubs moved despite the soft wind. However, they mirrored an animal slinking through the undergrowth. Not that Anton was skilled enough to determine that with just a glance. It didn’t seem like the Stitch Soldiers or an army of ghostly Knights.

“I could set the forest on fire if that would make you feel better.” Anton chuckled.

“Don’t you dare.” Belinda’s carriage portal opened, a bundle of bright red hair poked out of the small hole. “Timber and lumber are the main exports for Slihal. And I am planning to gain control of this once the war is over, so don’t damage it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it…” Anton forcefully brought his horse to a halt along with the entire column.

Ahead lay three abandoned carts, their contents strewn across the ground covered in blood. Three large Ix lay dead, still leashed to the carts, their necks slit. Bloody trails led into the forest away from sight. Conrad signalled for everyone to be on alert as several soldiers moved forward.

“Everything’s gone.” One replied softly, his eyes glancing constantly towards the blood trails. “Looks like they took food and weapons.”

He pointed to several smashed crates, a small symbol of a sword and a spear lay on the side. “They were probably supplies needed for the front.”

Belinda wormed her head out further. “Those are…Yes. But they never travelled alone, without an escort.”

Conrad waved to the short grass either side. The short dry blades were crushed and heavily churned up, with many branches either side broken and lay strewn across the grass.

“Any way to tell how many?” Anton asked. He summoned a small Lightning Crow and threw it into the air.

“I don’t see any bodies,” Conrad ordered some soldiers to check the forest. They looked very nervous to be so far away from others in the darkening forest. “So they probably had enough people to overwhelm the guards and retrieve any bodies.”

“Bandits?” Cetina drew her sword.

“Maybe. But it would be stupid for them to attack these carts…Too dangerous for what they’re getting.” Conrad frowned, Anton felt a thought rise through his skull. “Of course we have someone that wants us all dead.”

“I wonder how many of our future soldiers are former bandits?” Anton mused. “At least they would have some combat experience…Though only attacking those far weaker than themselves. Normally at least, I don’t know. I’m not a bandit.”

“Let’s keep moving.” Belinda’s eyes strained through the canopy to the darkening sky. “I don’t want to be camping in the forests any longer. A simple bed is better than this carriage.”

At least the carriage provides you with some defence against surprise attacks. Maybe one day we could get the same…tanks? That would basically make us an undisputed power. How could a Knight possibly hope to pierce an inch of solid steel? Especially with guns and cannons shooting back.

After pushing the carts to the side, having no choice but to leave the heavy Ix where they lay, they continued through the forest. The lights of Slihal quickly came into view, a few lonely flickering torches illuminating the wooden palisade walls. However the walls were heavily damaged from fire, several large holes had been torn through and filled with whatever junk and debris the citizens could find.

“I wonder if this is the work of the same bandits?” Cetina asked. “The Church might be trying to limit the number of people that we can…recruit.”

“And it doesn’t use their own people,” Anton grumbled. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

“Who goes there?!” A Qaiviel soldier, wearing a dull version of the white and green uniform, crouched low behind the wooden palisade.

“Duchess Belinda,” Conrad replied calmly. “With reinforcements for King Leo.”

The soldier nodded and ordered the gate open. Anton wasn’t surprised but the state of the people inside; soldiers and guards lay strewn across the ground, moaning and writhing with bloody wounds and missing limbs. Some cried out for their mothers while others muttered hateful curses to powers and people unknown.

“Who is in command here?” Conrad asked. Belinda’s carriage door opened, she appeared a little annoyed that no one was immediately present to take her hand. She waved off a White Dog mercenary that rushed to her side.

A Qaiviel soldier, tending to the wounded, raised his hand. “Um…I’ll get the mayor. We’ve been under assault since the mid-day.”

“Bandits?” Conrad asked. He motioned for everyone to dismount from their horses.

“I’m not sure.” The soldier shrugged. “They’re pretty well armed for bandits. Much better than we’re used to around here. They had new swords and armour, nothing too good but a lot better than the scraps they normally have.”

“Deserted soldiers perhaps?” Anton asked. As he slammed his feet onto the ground they groaned in pain, one of his claws had twisted strangely and poked into his scaly hide. It took several good hits before it shifted free. Cetina offered a hand but Anton waved her down.

“Possibly.” The soldier stroked his short beard. “But I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some of these bandits before. And they weren’t this well armed then.”

“There’s a possibility that these bandits have been paid off by The Church and King Harold and Giles.” Conrad motioned to the destruction levied against the city, more significantly its people. “Anything to delay our advance.”

“I don’t know about that…But it could be what’s happening.”

“We should deal with the bandits before moving forward.” Belinda frowned lightly. “We are worryingly close to Castle Etoile. If they control the approaches…”

Belinda’s frown furrowed even deeper. “Bandits would know hidden paths and the best ways to avoid patrols, right Conrad?”

“They wouldn’t be bandits if they didn’t. Certainly not mentally capable of ambushing a convoy out of support range of a city.”

Belinda turned to Anton. “Could you please heal those that can be saved? We need every living soldier we can get. Conrad, organise a force to deal with these bandits.”

“We don’t know their location.” Conrad turned to the soldier who simply shook his head.

“Perhaps somewhere in the forest? It’s quite large and you can get lost pretty easily in there. Not our lumber workers…”

“Do you have any of the bandits?” Anton asked. “I can get them to talk, even the toughest will simply bend if I ask him too.”

“We caught a few. But they aren’t talking…” The soldier glanced away. “Even when we tried to make them.”

“Show me to your most grievously wounded.” Anton began. “I’ll keep them from death.”

“Where is this mayor?” Belinda asked aloud. “I need to know exactly what this city can provide.”

---[]---

“You’re sure it’s here?” Conrad asked Anton.

Anton nodded, pointing to the rough map of the forest. “They were quite clear their camp was located right here. Apparently, it’s some sort of ruin, an old woodcutter settlement that was abandoned.”

“And they told you this?” Conrad frowned deeply. “When the soldiers couldn’t?”

“Kind of.” Anton glanced to the city guards and soldiers forming up nearby. “They weren’t exactly capable of speaking…I think they were a little too enthusiastic about extracting information. Honestly, I don’t think they’ll live the night.”

“That bad, huh?”

Anton didn’t respond, turning his attention to the map. At first, he had been repulsed by the injuries inflicted upon the bandits but after remembering what they did, who they preyed upon to survive that compassion left him. He ensured the bandit that talked would live but he didn’t know if that was actually a punishment in disguise. He’d probably be hanged upon daybreak, many of the citizens were left deeply wounded and scarred, though only a few had died.

“However.” Anton coughed lightly. “The approach is, apparently, quite difficult without being detected. So we’re in for a rough time if we’re going to attack this position with a large force.”

“But that’s why magic is so handy.” Conrad smiled. “You killed five thousand by yourself, and I think you’re stronger than you were back then too.”

“I’m running a little low,” Anton admitted. “Healing, even when doing it slowly, takes a lot of mana. By tomorrow I’ll have enough, but we can’t wait that long.”

“We…” Cetina coughed lightly. “We have some people that might be able to help us. Back home?”

Anton rubbed his chin. “They might be willing to help. But it’s barely been a day for them…Does Belinda have any more Mana vials?”

“Not sure.” Conrad folded his arms. “But I can check for you. I doubt this city would have any.”

“Go check please.” Anton turned away from the map. “I’ll see what I can do to get some reinforcements.”

“Are those…Others really going to be that helpful?” Conrad asked softly. “I don’t know how the people will react upon seeing them. They’ve been told all their lives-”

“I don’t intend to bring those.” Anton chuckled. “No. Perhaps something a little more palatable to their sensibilities.”

Conrad raised a brow but asked nothing more. He knew it would be revealed very soon.

---[]---

“So soon?” Leran asked. The old Pirate Lord sat slovenly, while his son and granddaughters sat upright and professional.

“I’m afraid so.” Anton nodded once. “The situation in Qaiviel is extremely dangerous and…If we lose there they will simply roll over Atros. No one here can fight over tens of thousands of…”

The Dark Elf leaders frowned, sparing each other a glance. Anton didn’t know how to truly describe what the Church of The Holy Father had created.

“Creatures. Creatures that I shudder to think of. Creatures that make what you faced look like a pleasant dream.”

“So what do you need?” Leran asked. He pulled himself up and leant forward, his fingers tapping on his knees. “Before we agree or disagree we should talk about what it is you want. Otherwise, you’re just spending your time scaring us out of helping.”

“I thought Atros being reduced to rubble would have been enough.” Anton chuckled. “But I think we could get away with fifty, maybe seventy, of your best archers. We’re targeting a hidden encampment of bandits so it shouldn’t be too difficult. And I’ll be there as well.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Leran received nods from the leaders present. “Bandits and pirates fighting each other…Nothing new. Better that we keep our aim true.”

“Are you coming as well?”

Leran laughed. “Hell no. My old body can only swing this cane. And even then for a little while. Thanks for clearing up my chest, by the way.” Leran motioned to his son. “Cagec will lead our forces. I presume that won’t be a problem?”

“No. I have no intention of telling the Dark Elves how to fight. Best to leave it to those who know what they’re doing.”

Leran nodded again. “Cagec. Get eighty of your best warriors and have them follow Anton.”

“Are we going?” Calo asked. Her sister nodded. “We can fight.”

Anton shook his head. “I don’t think so. This will be quite a brutal battle. And we don’t know what we’re going to find there. These bandits are more than likely being funded by our enemy, so they’re not going to just have scrappy equipment. And there are stories that these creatures are roaming the wilds. Probably not true but we don’t know.”

“Better make that a hundred then,” Leran added softly. His eyes turned to Anton, devoid of any joviality. “Make sure they all return in one piece.”

“I shall.”

The Dark Elven leaders rose up and dispersed, Cagec giving a signal they would meet at the portal building. Leran hobbled away, flanked by two leaders, leaving Calo and Sheso behind.

“It’s definitely not a good idea for you two to come with us,” Anton said, cutting through the awkward silence. “Not because I don’t think that you’re capable…Well, I think this battle is mainly going to be archery and magic. And you two don’t know how to do either, for now at least.”

“It’s not that.” Calo looked at her sister. “I…I understand why you’re helping the Dark Elves but not the Qaiviel Kingdom. Why? What do they have over you?”

“Do they know where you live?” Sheso asked. “I know humans, most humans, despise Beast-kin. But they don’t have as much of a problem with us. Well…”

“Not when they find out what clan we are,” Calo grumbled. “I think our clan has made it very difficult for Dark Elves to live anywhere outside of The Shadow Isles.”

“And Atros!” Sheso sniggered devilishly. “I’m sure others could live here quite easily. Much brighter…But it really doesn’t feel like home.”

“They do know where we live.” Anton nodded, sighing lightly afterwards. “They knew before this civil war started, but not exactly who lived here. Just that were heretics, but that’s enough for them. I don’t know if they know that we have Beast-kin.”

“And if you were to say...” Calo swayed her hips. “Hide them, would these people just leave you alone?”

“No. They want us destroyed. And that means everyone that lives here. I don’t know how the Church of The Holy Father regards Dark Elves but it probably isn’t good.” Anton smiled bitterly. “Should that happen we might be living in The Shadow Isles.”

The twins laughed.

“In that case, we’d be happy to show you around.” Sheso chuckled. “Show you what can be eaten safely or not. Where all the good hunting spots are.”

“The Shadow Isles isn’t a bad place to base a fleet.” Anton mused. “A decent place to strike at Seocuria…If we didn’t have the portals. But I’d prefer to stay here. I’ve got some history with this place.”

The tent flaps opened, nearly a hundred Green Moon Clan warriors stood silently outside. They retained their loose clothing, not exactly ideal for absorbing blows but it rendered them almost silent as they moved.

The undergrowth’s littered with dried branches and twigs. Our boots and equipment’s going to make a lot of noise.

Cagec immediately shared the same concerns.

“Could you bring two additional sets of clothing? One for myself and Cetina.”

“The Bebbezzarian woman doesn’t need to come with us,” Cagec said softly. “Eighty Dark Elf warriors will be more than sufficient to put down a group of bandits.”

“Better to be safe,” Anton replied. “Besides, she knows how to move quietly.”

“Certainly doesn’t dress like it.”

“True…We’re working on that.”

---[]---

“I feel so…Unprotected.” Cetina grumbled.

Anton nodded silently. He too was having some difficulty in adjusting to his new set of attire. The upper half was fine, it was his transformed feet that were causing problems. Again. His older boots, while perfectly fine, did make a little noise as he moved. However, and more importantly, the base was completely solid. The Dark Elf’s boots soles were essentially a very thick cloth padding, great for sneaking, not so much when one’s feet weren’t exactly humanoid anymore.

“At least the Dark Elves feet are like ours.”

“Like yours?” Cetina asked. A tiny choke escaped her lips. “I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton gently stomped his boot down. The padding still needed some work but it was close. “How are you doing?”

They stood inside a small building near the wall, Cetina hiding behind several barrels. The small gaps near the joints allowed light to travel through. Anton kept his gaze firmly planted at the opposite wall, not that he expected Cetina to freak out if he caught a glimpse. She had already seen his new legs, though, despite that she had offered something far, far more intimate…

“Okay,” Cetina grunted, he heard her cloth shuffling as she rotated her waist. “It seems that the Dark Elves don’t have to worry about a woman of my…How would Verona put it?”

“Size?” Anton rummaged through one of their packs. Anton held a ribbon of cloth out, where the barrels obscured his view. “Would this help?”

Cetina head poked around the edge before snatching the band of cloth. “This should be good enough. Just give me a moment and I’ll…”

Cetina grunted and continued to shuffle until she stepped out. Now she looked almost identical to the Dark Elves, barring her lighter face.

Anton smiled at the sight, Cetina raised a black brow in response.

“I’m used to seeing you in such bright clothes, even when you’re relaxing.” Anton chuckled. “It’s a bit strange for me.”

Cetina rolled her arms. “You’re telling me. I feel so, well, naked, without them. No metal plates or any sort of padded cloth. I don’t know if this is going to stop an arrow let alone a crossbow bolt.”

Cetina patted around her chest. The loose cloth barely moved underneath her hand.

“We should be alright.” Anton retrieved Cetina’s sword resting against the wall. “I know you know how to handle yourself in a fight.”

“We didn’t do that good against the bandits when you met us…” Cetina scratched her eyepatch. A sense of determination filled her remaining eye. “But I’ll show you how a Bebbezzarian fights.”

Anton wanted to reassure her that she probably wouldn’t be fighting, but quickly scrapped the thought. Cetina gave her body a final check and appeared satisfied.

Outside the Dark Elves had grouped loosely together before the main gate. The Qaiviel soldiers didn’t understand what they were witnessing, they too huddled together and whispered softly, pointing to the new arrivals and then to their own faces.

It’s likely they’ve never seen someone with such dark skin before. I doubt many in this world would leave their birthplace in their entire lives. Maybe a few miles for work…Seems so strange to me.

“Are we ready?” Cagec asked.

“We are.” Anton spied Conrad approaching, the rolled up map in his hands and several small blue vials.

“This is the last of the mana vials.” Conrad continuously glanced between him and the Dark Elves. “Never…Never thought I’d actually get to see a Dark Elf. But given what I saw in…That place, I’m not surprised.”

“Are we to take prisoners?” Cagec asked. He had approached without making a sound, something that unnerved Conrad. “For interrogation purposes?”

“Only the leader. If they have captives with them, obviously try and keep them alive.” Anton turned to Conrad. “Is anyone missing from the city? Someone taken during the raids?”

“A few. But it doesn’t appear to be targeted.” Conrad shrugged. “Sounds like they just took anyone they could get their hands on, anyone that was unfortunate to be near the breaches and didn’t play dead.”

“If we can return them it’ll go a long way to helping the people.”

“Understood.” Cagec nodded. “Any loot?”

Right. Pirates…

“There’s not much to buy back home,” Anton said softly.

“Not now, of course, but you have contacts with other places.”

“So long as it doesn’t directly belong to the people of Slihal.” Conrad nodded in agreement. “Again, you won’t have the chance to spend it anytime soon.”

Cagec remained silent.

Anton clapped. “Let’s go then.”

Their group slunk silently out of the city wall, guided by the final faint light of the setting sun. Anton passed the map to Cagec, his eyes scoured the map and gave a curt nod, as they entered the forest. As Anton wasn’t too confident on leading such an attack he copied the actions of the Dark Elves; moving low and in a single line. Cetina followed directly behind Anton, another four or so Dark Elves behind her.

Anton glanced back. Cetina kept her sword drawn and close to her body, the flat edge against her thigh so she wouldn’t accidentally cut herself, but he occasionally caught glimmers of the bright steel.

“You might want to put that sword away,” Anton said, he received glares from the Dark Elves behind and lowered his voice. “So it doesn’t give us away.”

“Hmm? Oh, right.” Cetina pulled a face and sheathed the sword. “I don’t have a dagger on me-”

A small dagger was thrust before her face, a Dark Elf blade from the increasingly irritated warrior from behind. Cetina accepted the blade with a silent thanks, threw Anton an awkward smile and carried on in silence.

The light had almost faded away completely when the thin column ground to a halt. Anton watched the Dark Elves signal something along the line, a complex hand gesture, as they readied their bows and double checked their arrows. The four behind Anton rushed forward and signalled for them to follow as well. Cagec found a small rise in the soil and knelt low, his black wooden bow, red marbling running throughout, resting on his legs. He motioned for Anton and Cetina to crouch low and pointed ahead. A faint orange light flickered through the trees.

“Is it smart for them to light a fire after attacking Slihal?” Anton asked, lowering his voice as low as possible.

“No.” Cagec shook his head. “My father would throw you overboard if you did after raiding a ship. You never know if someone’s looking for you, a scout for a larger retaliation force.”

“Bandits aren’t always the smartest,” Cetina added. Cagec nodded.

“Dumb bandits don’t live long.” Anton continued. “But they’ll go out with a bang.”

“Stay low and quiet.”

Anton followed behind the Dark Elves as they slinked through the sparse undergrowth. Compared to the Dark Elves his and Cetina’s faces were extremely light and would reflect light extremely easily. He signalled for Cetina to cover her face as best she could, Cagec gave an appreciative nod.

As they approached the sounds of laughter and shouting began to grow. Whomever these bandits were they weren’t too concerned with security and remaining hidden, despite the potential of a counterattack from the Slihal guards. Anton and Cetina were stopped by an outthrust hand. Six bandits lay dead on the ground, their necks cut deep and hidden roughly underneath the shrubbery.

Not even a sound. I definitely need better security in Atros, not that I intend to get on their bad side.

Without the scouts their force approached the bandit camp undetected, their encampment was based in a small depression, a dozen huge tents surrounding the few flickering fires. Hundreds of people moved throughout the camp, coming and going from the tents while laughing and rummaging through piles of loot and food.

“I count three hundred and fifty,” Cagec ordered everyone to lie prone. “At least.”

“And not all of them are men either.” Anton mused.

About ten percent were women, wearing the same ragged and scrappy armour as the men. Anton wasn’t too concerned, they made their choice and they would have to deal with the consequences.

“Does anyone look like a leader?” Anton asked. “No way that this many are being run without someone in charge.”

Cagec signalled something along the line of Dark Elves. Another hand signal returned along the line, one that made Cagec frown.

“There’s someone on the far side that’s a bit better dressed than the others. But they’re dressed in white.”

Anton grumbled. “Well, we thought it was a possibility. Can you take us there? I want to listen in.”

“We can’t get that close without giving ourselves away.” Cagec looked to his bow. “It would be easier just to kill them and leave him alive.”

“I have a way of dealing with that.” Anton smiled. “Trust me. I might overhear something important, you never know.”

Cagec wasn’t about to continue the debate. They crouched low and scampered along the line of Dark Elves, all waiting for the order to attack, to the far end. Anton saw the larger tent, not that much larger but certainly in better condition than the others. Outside three people sat before a fire, two men and one woman. The older man wore simple white clothes, covered loosely by a brown cloak, while the man and woman wore bandit attire.

“Let’s see what they’re saying.” Anton lay prone next to Cagec. “Cetina? I won’t be able to see or hear anything nearby for the next little bit. If something’s happening you’re going to have to tap me on the shoulder.”

“Got it.”

Anton enchanted his sight and hearing.

“Give us another day.” The male bandit leant forward, one hand reaching for a mug of beer. “The wall’s broken, but there weren’t enough of us to burn down the city before the guards managed to rally.”

“We’re still getting paid? Right?” The woman asked. She had many scars, mostly on her face. She appeared to have been in more fights than the man.

“Of course.” The white robbed man said softly. He was much older than the others, probably in his late fifties. “We don’t back down from an agreement. The damage you have inflicted is probably enough to cause a delay to Leo’s reinforcements. So that will have to do. For tonight, at least.”

“Good.” The male bandit swigged the entire mug of beer in one go. “If we get those reinforcements you promised we could easily destroy the city.”

The Church Representative frowned. “Those aren’t for you.” He chuckled, leaning back towards the tent. “Do you think that you, a group of bandits, would honestly lead actual Knights?”

The man stood up, kicking the rickety wooden chair over. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you stupid old man. If you were so great you wouldn’t need us.”

The Church representative said nothing, blinking once at the male bandit as he slowly calmed down. The woman reached out for his hand and brought him back down, not caring that his seat was still tossed to one side.

“So long as you can guide them through the nearby forests and farmlands without being spotted…” The Church representative took a deep breath. “Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

A vile smirk crept up his lips. “A thousand Knights will be more than enough to ravage the land. You and the rest of your bandit friends will have freedom to loot what and whomever you want, so long as you continue to support the Knight forces.”

“We don’t exactly have much food to spare.” The woman looked at the tents. “Nothing for horses or a few thousand soldiers.”

“We have that all under control.” The Church representative gently waved them down. “So long as you uphold your end of the agreement, everything will go just fine.”

“Good.”

The Church Representative chuckled. “And you’ll get enough of your vices to keep going for some time. I’m sure the Holy Father will accept your daily repentance.”

Both bandits shared a glance, filled with worry and annoyance, but said nothing. The Church representative drew a small sheet of paper, moved closer to the other two bandits and began to discuss the paths through the countryside.

Anton deactivated his enchantments and turned to Cagec. Before he could speak the Dark Elf was already frowning.

“I presume the man in the white robes is the leader?” Cagec said softly. “I didn’t need to use magic to determine that.”

Cetina nodded. “The way he carried himself and how the other two treated him.”

“The bandits are bringing in Knights and Church Soldiers to harry Leo’s rear.” Anton mused softly. “If that happens they’ll have to abandon Castle Etoile and then…Atros will probably burn.”

Both grunted.

“So, try and keep those three alive. Doesn’t matter how bad, I can fix them.” Anton looked above the centre of the camp. “Do you want a distraction or do you work best in silence?”

“Silence.” Cagec drew his bow. “But we’ll let you know if we need a distraction.”

“A few Lightning Crows could easily deal with them,” Anton said softly, Cetina nodded. “Unless they have a Principle Mage with them. Might want to incapacitate that old man first.”

Cagec signalled the Dark Elves. A line of shadows rose up, like a black hump riding underneath a wave, and advanced on the camp. Twangs of Dark Elven bows, quieter than humans, preceded the thunk of black arrows sinking deep into flesh. The three leaders were completely unaware of the sounds of dying men and women around them. Even the crackle of the small fire was sufficient to muffle their voices. However, it was not to last. A bandit spotted a dead companion and shouted, everyone instantly leapt to attention.

“How did they get past the sentries?” A bandit shouted.

“You told me you crippled them.” The Church Representative snarled at the bandit pair.

“We did!” She shouted back. She drew two small daggers and readied to fight, but she couldn’t see that far into the forest, being so close to the fire had dulled her night vision. “They got here faster than we thought.”

Not the smartest bandits then.

“Fight then!” The male Bandit yelled. “Fight these bastards-”

A black arrow sunk deep into his chest, silencing the man as he staggered back and forth, a hand shakily moved to the blood coated stump.

“No!” The woman shrieked.

Despite her cry she refused to go to his side, instead furiously scanning the ink dyed forest. A black arrow sunk into her stomach, she dropped her blades and clutched at the arrow, furiously trying to rip the arrow free, all the while muttering something.

Anton summoned several small Lightning Crows and threw them into the fight. The bandits, just like the mercenaries in the Accursed Forest, had no way to defend against such a fast and dangerous creature. Their few archers focused on the small crows, distracting them while the Dark Elves moved through the camp with the element of surprise regained as the crows swooped above their heads. Cagec ordered his Dark Elves to rush the three leaders, the two bandits were completely immobile, writhing on the ground in pain and shock while the Church representative stood completely still, stunned by the sudden attack. Upon seeing the Dark Elves, still wrapped in their cloaks, he grimaced but dutifully raised his hands over his head.

“How did Dark Elves get into Qaiviel without being spotted?” He asked, his eyes scanning the tree line. “There was one group coming from Bebbezzar but they didn’t look like this.”

“Don’t let him speak.” Cagec harshly whispered. “Strip him, make sure he doesn’t have anything hidden.”

Two Dark Elves forcefully removed his clothes, another three kept their bows trained upon his chest. He had nothing on him, no hidden charm or poisoned weapon, and was hurried out of the camp completely naked. Anton kept his comments about the man’s physique to himself, so too did everyone. He was allowed some dignity to cover his crotch with his hands.

Within a minute the entire Bandit camp was completely devoid of fighting. Anton and Cetina were finally allowed into the camp. Aside from the three leaders every other bandit was dead; the few that weren’t silenced by arrows were finished off with a quick slash to the throat. Their frantic, desperate pleas went unanswered.

Anton stopped before the two struggling Bandits. Both still had their arrows embedded deep, the man was beginning to pass out while the woman frantically pawed at her bleeding belly. If anything it appeared to have a slight bulge.

“Is he the father?” Anton asked, kneeling before the woman’s legs and out of any strike range. Cetina readied her sword, just in case.

“Why?” Tears streamed down her face. “You killed them all.”

“Well…That’s pretty obvious.” Anton shuffled to the man and ripped the arrow free, a burst of clotted blood and shreds of flesh. “But he’ll live. For now at least.”

Anton healed the bandit so he would live, nothing more. He had the feeling that it was wasteful otherwise. The open wound knit itself together and his breathing calmed.

“But I want to ask you three some questions.”

“You’ve killed the only thing that matters to me.” The bandit glanced at her stomach. “Why-”

“Shut up.” Anton ripped the second arrow free. The woman screamed, holding the wound tight as she thrashed about violently. “If there was a baby in there it was already dead. And I can’t fix that. I’m not in a good mood to deal with bandits who prey off the innocent and slaughter travellers in cold blood.”

Anton healed the woman. She finished thrashing but continued to stare at Anton, her eyes filled with pure venom.

“What do we want to know?” Cagec asked. He drew an extremely thin blade, identical to the blade Tuccac had used on the Pirate Captain. “There’s no point in torturing them just for pleasure.”

“Not effective?” Anton asked.

“Not efficient.” Cagec lightly pressed the blade on his finger. “It also breeds animosity, which could be extremely dangerous in the future.”

Only if someone speaks of what happened here.

“Didn’t think there could be honourable pirates,” Cetina grumbled. “All the bandits I’ve met are pretty vile.”

“They might be better looked upon.” Anton glanced to the Dark Elves. “But then again, we only have your words to go on.”

Cagec nodded once and threw the Church Representative with the two onto the ground. A piece of cloth was passed over, a tiny hint of thanks on his face. The Church Representative loudly clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he adjusted the small piece of cloth.

“Or do we just bring the three back with us? I’m sure the other humans have some better question for them.”

“I-”

A Dark Elf approached, not able to carry himself properly.

“Are you hurt?” Anton asked.

“No. We…We found something.” A Dark Elf awkwardly scratched his head. “Not really sure what…”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad.”

They stopped before one of the smaller tents, the Dark Elves outside looked identical to those standing outside. A creeping feeling traced up Anton’s spine, memories of The Shadow Isles.

“Dead?”

“No.” The Dark Elf sighed. “But I wish they were.”

He pulled the cloth back. Anton’s eyes couldn’t understand what he was seeing, what lay on the tables. When he understood his blood ran cold.

“Cetina?” Anton reached for her hand. “Give me your sword.”

“Why?” Cetina hadn’t seen yet.

“Just do it.”

Cetina begrudgingly relinquished her sword, unwillingly but she followed his order all the same.

Anton returned to the three leaders, still lying on the ground with three archers ready to strike them down.

“Why?” Anton pointed the sword back to the tent, almost catching Cetina as she ran after him.

“What did they do?” The Church representative raised a brow. His hands continued to cover his crotch but he was far calmer with his nakedness now.

“I’m surprised that you’re actually concerned about your child’s safety.” Anton twirled the sword in his hand. He was surprised how heavy it felt, and yet Cetina could swing such a heavy implement seemingly without breaking a sweat. “After what I saw in there. You’d probably just sell yours for a few copper coins once it’s old enough.”

“What was it?” Cetina glanced to the tent. “I didn’t get a look before…”

“Turns out these bandits.” Anton thrust the sword into the woman’s leg. She screamed and held the sword tight, cutting deep into her skin as Anton slowly twisted the blade. “Enjoy them young. Makes me wonder…”

Cetina’s eye widened. “Are these the children taken from Gresir?”

“Probably.” Anton ripped the blade out, this time he wasn’t going to heal the wound. He turned to the Church Representative. “I presume this was your doing?”

The Church Representative loudly snapped his mouth shut. “It was. Money and special items. They were paid quite a handsome amount to follow our orders, more than they could expect to steal in half of their lifetimes. Short lives, probably, given their line of work.”

The man licked his teeth and continued to smile lightly.

Anton steadied his hand, resting the point of the sword into the ground. “You seem rather willing to give up such information.”

The Church Representative shrugged. “Why not? What do I have to gain by resisting?” He nodded to the blood-stained sword. “I’d prefer not to be skewered by that blade anytime soon.”

“So that’s enough to get them to join you?” Anton crouched down, resting his hands on the pommel of Cetina’s sword. “Four kids for them to do with what they please…And the rest?”

“That and weapons and money.” The man flashed a smile. “The rest have moved onto Clausonne. For what end, I’m not sure. I’m not sure which is worse though.”

Anton nodded. “Alright. I can understand. You, and I presume some helpers that have already returned home, brought them their weapons across the countryside? Without anyone stopping or even spotting you?”

“Yes. We-”

“What are you doing?” The woman growled. “Why are you telling-”

“Time to be quiet.” Anton rose up and thrust the sword into her throat. Despite the sharpness of the blade, it took considerably more effort than Anton expected. Though thin, the skin and flesh some resistance, more so when the blade found her spine. A spurt of blood gushed out, coating the blade and smothering her neck. She kicked and squirmed for a moment before falling still.

“No!” The male bandit forced himself up and held her hand, his eyes searching for any sign of life as he muttered underneath his panicked breath.

“Cagec, if he moves to attack your archers are to shoot. Understood?”

Cagec nodded once, completely uncaring of Anton’s murder. Anton stepped back and returned the blade to Cetina. She looked at him worryingly; Anton didn’t feel anything, beyond the physical, of killing the woman, perhaps Verona and Kal had warned her to ensure he didn’t go too far.

“Do these bandits know anything?” Anton hesitated. “Well, I suppose there’s only one left now.”

“Only pathways around the guard’s patrols. Ways that we can move large numbers of people and soldiers behind Leo’s forces to cause havoc and destruction.”

“So…This is a little strange.”

“It’s only a matter of time before you extract this information from me.” He pointed to the slim blade. “I’ve seen those blades rip fingernails and blind people before.”

“What do you know about the Stitch Soldiers?” Anton asked. “We’ve met them in Gresir, where you got the children from, but what do you know about them?”

“Very little. Only that they’re made deep in the dungeons of Clausonne.” The Church Representative shrugged lightly. “Obviously they were made somewhere before but now we have complete control of the capital…”

Anton held his head and repeated the question. The man was telling the truth.

“What magic is that?” The man laughed. He tried to stand up but Anton pushed him back down. “You could earn a fortune working for The Church of The Holy Father.”

“Recruiting me?” Anton chuckled. “Why not try, I suppose? But that’s not going to happen. Now, what type of forces are trying to attack us? Give me every detail of their armies in the region.”

The Church Representatives mouth cracked, his eyes flicked left and right before falling completely limp. Anton cursed aloud and chanted a healing prayer. The man was dead.

“The hell was that?” Cagec asked. “I’ve never seen poison work so fast before.”

“It should have taken a few seconds at least.” Anton mused. He waved for the male bandit to be taken away. “But he was jabbering for a long time.”

Anton pried his mouth open. Already his tongue had turned a dull green, the roots of his teeth turned black with great veins engorged in his cheeks.

“I can see four teeth at the back that are broken.” Anton took Cagec’s small blade. “Three with some sort of blue residue, the other a green.”

Cagec knelt beside Anton. “The green is newer. He mustn’t have been able to break it until now.”

“Suicide?” Cetina asked.

“Yes….” Anton sighed. “Probably wasn’t actually planning to be helpful, since it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s waiting for him. And it’s not a noose.”

“I see…” Cetina looked to the tent. “So what was happening in there?”

Anton stood up and looked to the remaining bandit. “There aren’t many women in this group. And they’re probably not going to like having ten odd men to deal with each night. So why not use someone that’s not going to complain, or have the ability to slit your throat in your sleep.”

Cetina blinked before she understood. Utter revulsion drenched her face, so too did the nearby Dark Elves.

“About three hundred men for four…” Anton shook his head. “We’ll take them back to Silhal. See if they can be saved. Cagec, do you know anything that could remove some painful memories?”

“Alcohol mainly.” Cagec faint smile faded. “But I know that’s not what you mean. They’ll have to get over it. Or…Or they won’t.”

“I wouldn’t blame them if they took that route.”

Anton remembered the women beneath Mount Aspire; their dead eyes and the single moment of joy, knowing their nightmare was about to end.

“And him?” Cetina asked.

“Bring him back. I don’t think they know much.” Anton kicked the man crying over the body of the female bandit. “I doubt the Church wanted them afterwards. Probably would just dump them in some pit. Probably not even that, just leave them in the forest for the wolves.”

The surviving bandit slowly rose to his feet, blood dripped from his clothes and hands. “We just wanted to survive-”

“Don’t give me that shit now.” Anton cut him off. “I bet if I were to ask one of those girls they’d say you were one of them.”

The man didn’t respond.

“I hope you’re ready to deal with Slihal. They’re going to have fun with you.” Anton chuckled as the man began to panic. “Not so tough now, are we? Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

Chapter 141 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 141 Pt.2:

“This isn’t so bad.” Anton lightly kicked the Slihal Inn door open. “Two beds and a large table. More than enough for us.”

“And they gave it to us for free,” Cetina added, hauling both of their large packs over her shoulder. “But it’s only for one night so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Anton had offered to take the pack but Cetina refused. He sat on the bed, the wood creaked lightly underneath his weight, not that he was that heavy, and took a deep breath.

The jubilant townspeople of Slihal were delighted to hear the entire bandit force was utterly destroyed, doubly so when they were presented with the remaining bandit. He lasted but a few seconds before being torn from the Dark Elves hands and beaten to a pulp. His battered corpse was thrown over the wall before Anton even found Conrad or Duchess Belinda. The Dark Elves left almost immediately after, not wanting to stay in such a foreign land and away from their people. Anton was annoyed to find that only a few of the townspeople were sad to see such fine warriors depart.

“Something wrong?” Cetina asked.

“No. Not really.” Anton sighed again. “I’m just a little annoyed…Overall, I think.”

All four young children were beyond distraught. They held no emotion and simply followed any instruction given. Anton didn’t know if it was even possible for them to mentally recover, or if it was even right to force them to endure. He tried to use Tethra's power to remove the painful memories but it appeared beyond her scope, of course he could ask Ferula for a favor. Something to decide on in the morning.

“How much are we paying for this place?” Cetina placed the packs on her bed with a loud thud and exhale. “Can’t wait to be back in my normal armour.”

“Belinda’s paying for it, actually,” Anton said. “And I’m sure they’re getting a good deal. Well, they don’t have three hundred odd bandits to worry about. Mayor seems a bit tight-fisted even though…Never did find the bodies of those caravan guards either. Wolves must have cleaned that up.”

Cetina gave a curt nod and moved to close the door. She leant forward, turning her ear to the open door. Her eyebrows shot up as she bounced back and closed the door.

“Something wrong?”

“Um…” Cetina smiled nervously. “Looks like some of the local women are trying to make some extra money.”

“Oh, really?” Anton laughed. “Well, can’t exactly blame either side. For our soldiers today could be their last night, and this might be the only time those women see so much money in one place. They could have just chosen a different location.”

“Indeed…” Cetina ensured the door was locked and returned to her bed. An awkward silence filled the air, but Anton was all but certain they both understood.

“Cetina? What, what did Verona and Kal say to you?”

Cetina’s face reddened slightly. “Right. We haven’t exactly talked about that since then. Well, she told me basically…What I told you. That if you needed help I was to give it to you.”

Anton rubbed his face, Cetina looked on in worry. “I really need to reign that girl in.”

“She can be a little intense.” Cetina smiled faintly. “I really wasn’t able to get much of a word in.”

“So what did Kal say?”

“Not that much.” Cetina held her chin. She appeared to be forcing herself to think very analytically. “Mainly just reinforcing what Verona said.”

“Verona’s corrupted her a little. Being around her can do that.” Anton flopped onto the bed. “This damn bed…Because of that, it’s been a little awkward to talk with you.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cetina mumbled.

Anton slapped his knees and stood upright. “I’m trying not to but with everything that’s been happening...”

Cetina slowly nodded. “It’s been a while for me too.” Cetina began to rummage through her pack. “Though a lot longer than you.”

Anton turned to Cetina. She stopped and stared back at him.

“What?”

“I…I didn’t think that you had done it.”

“Why?” Cetina appeared a little offended. “Do you think I’m incapable?”

“No. I just didn’t think you would have had much chance during your travels.” Anton looked to the small wooden slat window, allowing the faint noises from outside in. “You didn’t exactly look like you were having fun.”

Cetina glumly nodded. She retrieved a piece of dried meat and passed one to Anton. “Not since I arrived in Graterious. Mostly in Bebbezzar.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” Anton said, idly gnawing on the dried meat. “I won’t force it out of you.”

Cetina shrugged. “It’s alright. I haven’t told anyone so…It wasn’t that many times but sometimes one of the workers, the few that actually helped me unload and load stuff on the caravans while everyone else…Didn’t help.”

Cetina sighed. “They’d say nice things to me, that they’d take me away from all of that, I didn’t know what it was like to be flirted with, and then I’d follow them home. It was…alright, I suppose? I don’t understand why people would pay for it but I enjoyed not remembering my life for a little while.”

“Did you punch them when you found out the truth?” Anton asked.

Cetina laughed. “The second time I did.” She shook her head, a slight smile crept up her face. “I can’t believe I fell for it twice.”

“I hope he lost a few teeth.”

“I busted an eye.” Cetina’s smile faded. A hand idly reached for her eyepatch. “Do you think you can try to heal mine again? I know that you still can’t fix it but it’s getting a little irritated.”

“Are you letting it dry out at night?” Anton asked, placing the food on the bed.

“I am. But it’s still gets irritated and sore. Sometimes it feels wet too.”

Anton moved next to Cetina. “Let’s have a look at it.”

Cetina gently removed the eyepatch. Her eye was still just as damaged as before; the vibrant colour long destroyed and now nothing but a white ball, what remained of her eyelid remained badly damaged and refused to cover her eye when she blinked. She could still move it, which was a good sign.

Anton held her shoulder and chanted a healing prayer. He felt the magic desperately trying to work, fighting the Ghlyirl infesting her skin but to no avail.

“Maybe a tiny bit has come back.” Anton leant close, Cetina kept her body perfectly still. “Damn shame too.”

“No word on the Strega Witches?” Cetina asked. Though her eye was destroyed he felt the anger emanating just from their mere mention.

“Not yet.” Anton removed his gloves. “There’s a bit of build-up of something in your eyes. Doesn’t look good.”

“Is it infected?” Cetina’s grey eye snapped to his.

“No. But I don’t like it. Just give me a moment and it’ll be over with.”

Anton picked at a small amount of a grey substance building in the corner of her eye. The heaviness in his body, the feeling of his mana, dimmed upon touching it, even when he removed it from her.

“It’s Ghlyirl.” Anton looked closely at the small silvery lines within the small bead of grey. “Looks like your body’s expelling it. Slowly.”

“Really?” Cetina smiled. “I might be able to see with both eyes again? It’s kind of strange to not be able to see your hand. Like it’s just disappearing into the void…Thanks for making this eyepatch, by the way.”

“Not a problem.” Anton removed the last piece. “We’ll get some masks or something when we fight those Demons again. Don’t want anyone else to go through this.”

“I wonder what happened to the Graterious soldiers that were hit by that blood.” Cetina mused. “Do you think they’ll be taken care of?”

“I…I don’t know. Maybe.” Anton shook his head. “But they might just use them as a lab rat to find out what happened.”

Cetina put her eyepatch back on, her smile returning. “Ah. That’s better. I don’t want to have to bounce around again so I can tell how far things are away.”

"It was a little strange." Anton smiled. "I know it would confuse me."

Anton rested his hands on his lap. “I’m not really sure how to say this but, in the future, don’t just do what Verona says just because…”

Cetina leant forward slightly and tilted her head. “Because of what?”

“Because…Because of how we all met.”

Cetina blinked, waiting for him to continue.

“You don’t have to do what she says just because you’re travelling with us.”

Anton sighed, Cetina didn’t quite understand.

“Forgive me if this comes across as blunt, but I believe that she’s taking advantage of what happened to…you, before you started travelling with us. You didn’t exactly have much direction and things weren't looking good so...”

Cetina slowly nodded. “I understand. Verona can be very…” Cetina coughed lightly. “I’m not going to say that I’m better, but I am better. I’m no longer drinking and I’m not worried about horrible nightmares. At least as much. I’m doing okay.”

“But-”

Cetina raised her hand. “I am an adult. I’ve spent a lot of my life following what people tell me to do, even if it’s not directly. I can make decisions for myself, about what I want to do and with whom. So there.”

“I’m still not going to release you as my bodyguard. No matter what happens. But I would like to have things a bit more normal between us. Where Verona’s meddling isn’t weighing over our thoughts and actions. Mainly mine.”

Cetina chuckled. “She can be rather intense at times. But…” Cetina played with the blue patch of hair resting over her ear. “I think that, despite everything, she only has good intentions for all of us.”

Anton smiled. “I’d like to think so. She has helped to bridge a few gaps. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t…”

A creaking of wood interrupted Anton. Cetina gripped her sword and looked to the walls. Immediately her face reddened as she realised what was transpiring just beyond the thin wood.

“Really?” Cetina murmured.

“They really need to reinforce the beds.” Anton chuckled. “And the walls. I know we’re not going to get much sleep while they’re having their fun.”

“How long are they going to go at it?” Cetina stood up, shaking her head in an attempt to drive away the redness. “They were already doing it before…”

“It really depends. I thought you said that you knew about this stuff.”

Cetina shrugged. “I’ve only done it a few times.”

An awkward silence filled the air, every few seconds the creaking of distant beds echoed through the walls.

“Do you want to head outside?” Anton asked. “I think they’re going to be a bit longer yet.”

Cetina gave a furious nod as the creaking only grew in intensity, with no indication that it would stop anytime soon. Outside of their room the sounds were slightly dampened, connecting walls were thinner than those along the corridor, or the beds were simply pressed against the wall, but it was still far too loud. Now they were truly focusing they could hear the grunts and sickly sweet moans.

“Let’s not interrupt.” Anton ushered Cetina out as a shrill moan of ecstasy echoed through the air.

They stepped out of the small Inn and into the fresh air. Outside the soldiers and mercenaries milled around, chatting heartily with the few prostitutes that hadn’t been chosen for that night. The dregs, most were missing teeth or had some kind of facial or bodily deformity.

They don’t need to be pretty I suppose.

“They’re everywhere,” Cetina mumbled.

“It makes sense for them to follow an army,” Anton said. “Keeps the men more focused and, hopefully, they won’t take it out on any city we conquer. Don't fancy traveling with an army of rapists. Especially for you.”

“That wouldn’t be good for Leo, would it?” Cetina asked softly. “A usurper king would need all of the support he can get.”

“Not if the other side is even worse. Those Stitch Soldiers for one.”

Cetina nodded glumly.

“Did you see any battles like that?” Anton asked. “The sacking of a city?”

“Have you?”

“No. But I know that we will one day.” Anton sighed. “I think-”

Anton jumped as a hand wrapped around his shoulder. Cetina shouted angrily as a scantily clad woman attempted to worm a hand, seductively as she could, over his shoulder.

“Hello there, handsome.” The woman, slightly better in appearance than the dregs, apoke softly. Her loose clothes disheviled, her skin lightly flushed and she clearly hadn't rinsed her mouth yet. “Are you…Looking for someone? Perhaps to fill an empty bed? I can-”

“Back off!” Cetina yelled again, pushing her hard in the chest. The woman stumbled back, not anticipating Cetina’s strike or strength, tripped over herself and crashed onto the dusty ground.

“What was that for?” The woman asked as she stumbled to her feet. Nearby mercenaries spared a glance, none willing to relinquish their hold on their bought women, but quickly lost interest. So too did the women.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Cetina growled at the women. Her face quickly softened, one of slight embarrassment. “If you’d been an enemy…”

“If you’re going to hit me you can at least pay me.” The woman said angrily.

Anton shook his head. “I didn’t want to engage with you, you came up to me. You’re going to have better luck somewhere else.”

The woman glanced at Cetina, frowning deeply. She turned and spat on the ground. “Fucking whore.”

Cetina resisted the urge to draw her sword and took a deep, calming breath. Eluria and Sancha tarnished her with that name, even the brief time Anton spent with them they had not shied away from using it within earshot. Who knew how many times Cetina had heard that word directed to her.

Anton turned his ear towards the still open Inn door, the creaking still leaked through, along with some terrible grunts and groans.

“No point in standing around here…” Anton’s eyes were drawn to the sound of Cetina’s sword grinding underneath her anger filled hands. “Do you want to go find Duchess Belinda?”

Cetina said nothing, continuing to hold her sword tight while muttering something underneath her breath.

"Are you okay?"

"I fucked up again." Cetina shook her head, wiping away a tear with the back of her gloved hand. "First I almost get killed by a Goblin. And now I let some stranger, who could of killed you, just walk up and grab you. I'm...I'm a terrible bodyguard, aren't I?"

Anton knew the look Cetina held. She didn't want to told everything was alright, Cetina wasn't that sort of person to begin with. If anything she appeared to be wanting to be scolded.

"Not completely." Anton said. "But I need you to pay more attention, if you are to be my bodyguard. Even if we are in difficult circumstances."

Cetina nodded firmly, a determination washed over her face. "I will, Anton. I won't let you-"

A colossal groan of ecstacy cut Cetina short. She backed away from the Inn as the mercenaries began to laugh with a roarcous energy.

"Think he just had the time of his life." Anton mused.

A nearby mercenary appeared to agree. He grabbed his prostitute hard on the rear, thrust his waist against her rear and tilted his head back, contorting his face in a mocking ecstacy. The prostitute laughed and gently patted the mans face as he let go.

“When they find out who that was they’re not going to let it go.”

“This is all…” Cetina closed her eye.

“Did you want to go and find Duchess Belinda?” Anton asked again.

“If it gets us away from here,” Cetina mumbled. “I’ve…Wait a moment.” Cetina rolled her eye. “I have to go back in there.”

Cetina returned a few seconds later with the portal stone bag over her shoulder. If they lost those, things would turn very, very bad.

I’m sure they’d be able to see things through. We still have the rings, but we’d be physically separated for a long time…

“I wonder if Duchess Belinda’s still awake,” Anton said. “At least the conversation will be better than anything we’ll find here. Unless you plan to be hit on by some slightly drunken soldiers. Maybe some drunken prostitutes. Money is money, after all.”

“Is she…Involved,” Cetina shrugged lightly. “With anyone?”

“Not that I know of.” Anton rubbed his chin. “Doesn’t really concern me if she has or hasn’t, since our alliance is based primarily on material goods. But honestly, I don’t know.”

Anton chuckled. “Maybe she’s with Alfred. He’s not a bad looker for his age.”

---[]---

Duchess Belinda established herself in the largest building in Slihal, a lumber warehouse hurriedly refurbished into a makeshift command post. Twenty tired mercenaries stood guard, Belinda’s carriage rested inside. The horses remained inside, casually eating some hay as they lay down to sleep. All things considered, the carriage was probably the most comfortable bedding in Slihal. Certainly better than their beds.

“And definitely quieter,” Anton muttered aloud.

“What?” Cetina leant forward, her free hand resting on her sword’s pommel.

“It’s a lot quieter here.” Anton smiled at her. “No prostitutes will be soliciting their services around here.”

Cetina found herself cracking a smile. “Maybe some dingy alleyway.”

The guards allowed them passage with barely a second glance. Belinda sat in front of a small fire in a fancy but slim portable wooden chair, a thin trail of smoke leading and pooling in the high roof of the warehouse, with the mayor of Slihal sitting opposite. Anton hadn’t much to do with the man, like nearly all mayors he was an old man, probably the oldest in Slihal. His age didn’t automatically make him wise but he didn’t come across as a fool.

“We can’t give you many of our guards.” The mayor gently rubbed his hands. “Many are still injured from the bandits.”

“You have many men of fighting age.” Belinda leant back into her chair, turning and smiling as Anton and Cetina approached. “And they are used to working in the lumber mills and the forests, all hauling logs and timber all day. It’s trivial for them to wield a spear and shield effectively, given a few days training.”

“Depends how old they are.” Anton stopped a few meters to the side. “How old is the minimum requirement in Qaiviel anyway?”

Belinda shrugged. “Old enough to swing a sword and thrust a spear. So…”

“Probably something like twelve winters,” Cetina said softly to Anton. “In Thessos that was the age when they started training properly.”

“It’ll be a lot longer after that before they can actually fight against a man,” Anton said, casting an eye to the indifferent mayor. “But they can certainly help.”

“We still need as many people in Slihal as possible.” The mayor said softly.

“All those that have been wounded will make a full recovery.” Belinda looked at Anton for reassurance. “I’ve been assured they will be even better than they were before. All aches, pains and old wounds will also disappear. Magic is such a wonderful thing.”

The Mayor turned, his eyes squinting at Anton. “And how did you find a Life Mage of such power? Given the war, I thought all would have been forced into service…There are herbal healers in some of the remote towns but all magical teaching is handled by the Royal Academy in Clousonne. Unless…”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Anton smiled. “Just know that everyone will survive. Before we leave in the morning I ask that you bring those with old wounds or even missing limbs, those that weren’t involved in the fighting. And we’ll do it free of charge too.”

For a moment Belinda looked ready to object but she quickly realised it cost her nothing and only had respect to gain. Her face softened and she nodded once to the mayor.

“There are many in Slihal that can no longer work.” The mayor rubbed his chin. “We will take all the help that we can get. Even if we aren’t entirely sure that it’s not heretical in nature.”

“Speaking of.” Belinda coughed lightly. “And the initial reason for our discussion was how many men you can provide me.”

The mayor’s frown returned as he folded his arms.

“If you think that The Church will allow Slihal to go free,” Anton began. “After we found them working with the bandits to allow safe passage for their soldiers, you are severely mistaken.”

“Surely that means we should keep everyone we have.” The mayor quickly retorted. “I heard from your mercenaries that there are supposedly a large number of enemies approaching very soon. So why should we send our few fighting capable men with you?”

“Because we will destroy that force before it sacks Slihal,” Belinda said adamantly.

We will?

“Anton, our mercenary mage, has not only devastating magic but also the aid of the Dark Elves. They simply won’t know its coming.”

“How did the Dark Elves make it so far into Qaiviel?”

“Again, not something you should worry about.” Anton waved him down. “But a small army, one that could slink through the countryside, isn’t much of a threat for me. I understand that’s poor reassurance for you.”

“And if we were to destroy them.” Anton looked at Belinda. “How many could you spare? I doubt they would send another force if their first was utterly destroyed.”

The Mayor rubbed his temples. “We could spare only a few hundred men. And they don’t have much armour or weapons, compared to your mercenaries. I’d like to keep at least some of our guards. Despite our best efforts, the bandits in this area are still a threat.”

“Archers?” Belinda raised a red brow. “Huntsman? Even poachers will help.”

“Without them we will be without food…The grains and fruit that grow here are relatively poor, most of the nearby land is used for timber and storage.”

“Half,” Belinda said calmly. “I think that is adequate. I will pass onto King Leo that you gave us aid. I’m sure there are things that you’d like to do, but only lack money and manpower.”

The mayor slowly nodded. “So long as Leo actually becomes the King of Qaiviel. And you and he remember everyone that’s helped him retake his throne.”

Belinda smiled. “I have an excellent memory. And I have a written list of everyone that’s helped us and to what degree.”

The Mayor stood up, his joints clicked and groaned. “So long as the men return home I’ll be happy. Will…Will there be plunder from this campaign?”

While Anton knew comparatively little about the style and type of war for a common soldier he knew that the prospect of loot; gold, food and whatever valuables they could get their hands on, was a major driving force. It also devastated the towns and lands captured by the army and certainly wasn’t ideal in a civil war.

“Nothing directly,” Belinda said firmly. “But they will be paid handsomely for their contribution at the end of the campaign. To stop desertion, as you can appreciate.”

The mayor nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Now…I presume that you have some business with these two.”

He nodded and began to leave, a noticeable limp to his stride. Anton stopped him and quietly chanted a healing prayer. The man looked on in shock but said nothing, finally giving a small nod before walking off with his back straighter and more proud, the clicking noises from his knees were silent.

“I’m sure that he’ll be far more disposed to help us after that.” Belinda smiled, leaning forward while resting her chin on her interlocked gloved fingers. “Though you could have asked for some sort of compensation.”

“A few pieces of copper that they could barely afford?” Anton took the mayor’s seat, Cetina standing to his side after placing the portal stone bag at her feet. “Or some food, again they can ill afford to lose? This makes a far better impression.”

“Perhaps.”

“Or one of the prostitutes they have running around here.” Anton glanced out the door.

“I have no opinion on the matter.” Belinda quietly shrugged and leant back into her chair. Compared to hers, his was quite poor. Perhaps Duchess Belinda only ever had one? “They are not being forced or coerced so why should I stop them?”

“Venereal disease for one.” Anton received an odd look from both women. “Diseases and infections that are transmitted during sex. Is…Is that not a thing here?”

“There are some,” Belinda said softly. “But I believe those are mostly relegated to the poorest of slums. Still, I would advise caution. Just in case.”

I wonder if I can just heal it away. Maybe that's why some of the people I've healed have been truly grateful. No more sores or itches in sensitive places. Let's just hope there isn't a magical resistant strain out there.

"This line of inquiry wasn't exactly what we had in mind when we came looking for you," Anton said. “Kind of wanted to get away from it, actually.”

Belinda raised a brow. "So what was? Were the accommodations not up to your standard? I remember you saying that you travelled rough but that Inn should be better than sleeping on the hard ground. If you'd like we could easily have someone removed from their home for the night. Or perhaps stay with you, I hear the mayor's granddaughter is very pretty." Belinda rolled her hand. "Pretty in a provincial sort of way."

"I was actually offered someone's daughter once, so we would stay in their village." Cetina looked at Anton with a worried expression. "Obviously I didn't take it. Obviously. But I wonder how they're doing. How every place we’ve passed, actually. Getting swarmed by mole rats isn't exactly something that would want to make me stay."

"Most peasants don't have the luxury of moving to a different town," Belinda said softly. "No one is going to support them when they arrive, the land might already be claimed or the lord or nobles far worse. I imagine the town was quite poor."

"It was." Anton smiled. "But the people still went about their days."

"They don't have much of a choice," Cetina added. "Not if they don't want to become bandits."

Belinda clapped her white-gloved hands. "While it is interesting to converse with the both of you I'm certain there was something else you wished to discuss."

"We just really needed to leave." Cetina's body tensed slightly as Belinda really hadn't directed the question to her. "It was a little noisy."

Anton nodded. "It was. But there are a few things that I want to know, and I really can't ask anyone else."

Belinda smirked, a rare expression. "I'm sure you make your women feel just as important as I do now."

"Perhaps...That was the wrong choice of words. But there is no one else that I can ask freely. Knowing what you do about our home."

Belinda nodded. "And what would that be? I'm sure you have good governance during your absence. Good taxation too..."

Belinda bit onto her lower lip in frustration. No one wanted to be reminded of their greatest failings, doubly so when it comes from one's own mouth unintentionally.

"I do. But I'm concerned how to...How would I put it?...I’m just wondering how the other Kingdoms and Empires will deal with Atros. I have a pretty good idea-”

Belinda laughed, a slight redness crept over her cheeks. "I don't think you need me to tell you how that's going to go. Quite poorly, if you actually need an answer. Especially Seocuria. I'm sure they'd declare war on you almost immediately. Your only advantage is the sheer distance to be crossed. And Graterious isn’t going to like thousands of soldiers crossing their lands."

"True." Anton chuckled. "I guessed as much already."

"So..."

"I understand that it's going to be quite a shock to most but I’m wondering if they’ll treat us like a revived Kar Kingdom. Since we occupy the same lands and it woulnd’t be too difficult to get some of their heraldry-”

"Doubtful." Belinda dismissively waved a hand. "Especially when you have a Beastkin envoy. If you decide to be that bold. Being you I’m sure you might actually do that, except for the Seocurian’s."

Belinda chuckled, craning her neck back to look at the smoke pooling in the rafters above. "I wonder what they were thinking just a day before you rescued them. Certainly nothing like what you have now."

"Perhaps a few less beatings." Anton murmured. He slapped his thighs to focus himself. "I suppose we’ll just have to be so powerful, possibly enigmatic, that they have no choice but to take us seriously. And that’ll take time and people, all of which we are short on. But, as we're sort of on the topic, what was the Kar Kingdom like? The few that remember it...I've asked but they're more interested in the future."

Belinda took a slow and deep breath. “By the time I came into adulthood, they were already gone. But I remember my father saying they had great archers and rangers, they would strike from the shadow’s and slaughter their enemies before they knew what was happening.”

“That sounds awfully similar to what we’ll be doing.”

“The Qaiviel Kingdom and the Graterious Empire both tried to invade, at one point in history, and both failed terribly. Their armoured soldiers and our Knights were slaughtered during the night but during the day…” Belinda smiled. “I was told the Kar Kingdom’s main forces couldn’t withstand ours on the open fields.”

“I doubt anyone could hold their nerve against several thousand heavy Knights charging at them.” Anton smiled. “Goes to show how seriously they treated the threat of the Goblins and monsters that destroyed the Kar Kingdom.”

“Indeed.”

“But otherwise it was relatively unremarkable?”

“If you removed the Knights and armoured soldiers from Qaiviel and Graterious they would be remarkably similar. Not that rich but not overly poor, nothing really strange or that interesting about how they carried themselves. Really, the Kar Kingdom was a little plain. Nothing apart from the usual scandals, but that really doesn't matter to them now, does it?”

“Graterious appeared to be a little bit more wealthy than Qaiviel,” Anton said softly. “I don't know if we even found a tiny portion of the old Kingdom's wealth. Those creatures don't have much use for gold. Most of it's probably still in Surdon. That's going to be a huge task to clean out. Maybe it'll be easier just to burn it to the ground. But…After all of this, I don’t want to lose our land. Even if we don’t control it directly. Recognizing the old kingdom's land as ours would be a good start. But it would need to remain quiet, of course. I don’t want anyone to realise the lands can be colonised, even if it is difficult."

"King Leo could easily do that." Belinda nodded. Her eyes glanced to Cetina. "You...A Bebbezarian with you shouldn't cause too many problems. Probably a good thing, actually. Make them think you came from the north, not from the east. That you simply wandered near my territory when we first met."

"I'm glad I can be of service to you, Anton," Cetina spoke dryly and without emotion. "So I can be a lure..."

"Don't be like that." Anton bumped her leg. "It's definitely not the reason why you're with me now. But it will help us in the long run."

Cetina smiled, she really wasn't concerned. At least too much.

"Anything else you think they might take offense to?" Anton smiled. "I know it'll just get thrown into the heap with the Beastkin but the less they have to complain about the better."

"Each place has their own customs and procedures but they're not foolish enough to try and force theirs upon others. A very quick way to find yourself hated."

"Seocuria will be a problem." Anton chuckled. "When they can't just order around the Beastkin like servants."

"They will have to bend, unless they want a war. As will you." Belinda shuffled back into her chair. "Do you know about the Graterious trimurivate?"

"We are slowly becoming more and more aware of it." Anton spoke dryly.

"Did you know that each of the three noble families have to give a woman to the Emperor as a concubine? Each treated with slightly less respect than the Empress?"

"I did not."

Cassius didn't bring it up. Maybe that part of the family isn't doing so badly, it's the son that's supposedly inbred. Do they just not keep those kids? To keep it 'in the family?'

"And any Seocurian leader you meet will bring his harem with him." Belinda smirked. "A dozen beauties adorned with gold and jewels. They think it's a display of strength and virility, but everyone knows most are bought. At least that's what Alfred has told me. None of the ones following you have that look."

Movement outside of the warehouse caught Anton's eye, cutting his response short . A small gathering of prostitutes, more visually appealing than the one during Cetina's altercation, approached the guarding mercenaries. Anton tapped Cetina's leg, the metal guard on her upper thigh. She didn't draw her sword but readied for a fight.

Assassins? Or Strega Witches?

Neither were true. The women attempted to solicit their services but found no one willing to bite, Anton knew Conrad would have stern words, a polite way of putting it, with anyone that left their post to enjoy a few moments of carnal bliss. With poor pickings, the women left as quickly as they came.

“Perhaps I’m becoming overly paranoid.” Anton sighed, rubbing and gently massaging his legs. “After…”

Anton quickly searched within himself for the green wisps of Strega magic. He found nothing and his heart rate relaxed. Belinda raised a brow after Anton searched Cetina, again nothing.

“But there are things out there that deeply trouble me. That they might attack us from plain sight.”

Belinda smiled. “I’m far more worried about the less magical threats. Like an arrow or a blade through my throat.”

“Indeed…Perhaps we need to…” Anton smiled. “I was about to say relax but that’s what brought us here in the first place.”

“Perhaps another way to relax.” Cetina leant forward, a strange smile on her face. “When I was stressed I would practice with my sword. Not that I had anyone to practice with but it always helped.”

Belinda clapped her hands above her head as she rose up. “Excellent decision. Some of the makeshift training fields are now free, I’m sure that’s not being used by some of our mercenaries who seek to relieve themselves. In the non-traditional sense. As for me, I intend to get as much sleep as possible. Perhaps those enemy soldiers will be here in the morning. That way we can continue moving to Castle Etoile.”

“We can only hope,” Anton said. “Otherwise this town will not hold for long. Not that taking a few hundred will do much when defending against several thousand.”

“True.” Belinda gave both a single nod and moved to her carriage. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Without a further word Belinda entered the carriage, pulled the curtains tight and the warehouse fell silent. A small collapsing log on the fire, sending out a plume of sparks, broke them out of their stupor.

“She hasn’t changed.” Cetina smiled, tapping Anton’s shoulder and urging him up. “Let’s see what we can scrounge up. I don’t think you want to be practising against my actual sword.”

---[]---

Cetina held the wooden sword loosely in her hand, idly swinging it back and forth. “Looks like it’s been well used. Thousands of breaks and cracks, probably one of the few this village has.”

“And they were kind enough to let us borrow them.” Anton glanced at the wooden sword in his own hands. He retained his gloves, this time, but already he was receiving flashbacks to their previous spar.

Where she had cracked him on the back.

Hard.

“Have you been practising with your sword technique ever since Atros?”

“Not really.” Anton twirled the sword in his fingers, almost losing it. He glanced up to see Cetina staring at him, her face blank yet someone annoyed.

“Well, now that you have that Marble Spear thing you should really know how to use it. It’s a pretty good weapon up close, doesn’t break and cuts through flesh with ease, not so much metal but makes it extremely hot. So,” Cetina planted a hand on her hip. “You need to know how to use it properly. Just in case you’re on your own. Who knows, you might lose your ability to use magic…The other types of magic.”

“If I do we’re in a lot of trouble.” Anton murmured. “But alright. Let’s see if I can actually land a hit.”

“Without throwing dirt?” Cetina chuckled as she resumed her stance. “That was cheating. But…Let’s see if you’ve learnt anything.”

As soon as Anton raised his sword Cetina was upon him, striking him repeatedly. He instinctively knew she wasn’t put in anywhere near her full strength, this was just a spar after all and she didn’t want to harm him, but she was still very strong. Anton tried his best to read her attacks before she swung, it was the only way he could hope to block anything. Quickly Cetina began to lessen the intensity of the strikes.

“It was a bit much to go that hard at the start.” Anton smiled. Already a layer of sweat covered his face, the many strikes on his body hurt, not enough for bruising but he could feel every soft wound.

“You never know how strong your opponent is.” Cetina took a step back. “You always need to be ready.”

“And without my magic.” Anton smiled.

“Or sand.” Cetina chuckled. “Cheater.”

“Who taught you this?” Anton asked, softening his stance. Cetina didn’t hesitate and struck him hard. The wooden sword slid along the shaft and struck his hand, it hurt enough that Anton had to back away, shaking his hand to work away the pain.

“Did I hurt…Oh no!” Cetina covered her mouth. “Was that the one with the crystal?”

“No.” Anton gave his hand a final shake. “No. It’s fine…But it did dim after touching that stone, didn’t it?”

“Did…”

“I’m fine Cetina.” Anton resumed his stance. “But, could you tell me who taught you how to fight? You said it was a trainer hired to teach you.”

Cetina nodded. “Yeah. A trainer from Mycea. He was…related to my mother. Somehow. Some distant relation. But after Eluria showed up he disappeared. I hope that he just left and wasn’t killed.”

Cetina lowered her sword.

“Do you think she’s alive?”

“I hope so. I really do.” Cetina smiled, shaking her head. “But enough of that. I was asked, no, ordered to spar with you today. And I shouldn’t disobey the order of the person I’m supposed to protect, right?”

“I wouldn’t call it that, but alright.” Anton chuckled. “We’ll keep practising.”

Cetina nodded appreciatively as they resumed their stances. As they practised Anton noticed something change. As they exchanged blows, Anton slowly improving, Cetina began to smile. An honest smile. One that was free of the distant pain and memories. Anton found himself smiling too as he and Cetina continued to exchange blows, finally both began to laugh even as they pummelled one another with strikes. It was strange to say but it was the happiest he had ever seen Cetina. It would be but a fleeting moment but he didn’t want it to end.

Chapter 141 Pt.3 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 141 Pt.3:

“Anton!” Cetina’s voice cut through Anton’s murky dreams. “You need to wake up.”

“What’s happening?” Anton rolled in his bed, rubbing away the build-up of sleep in the corner of his eyes. “Is it morning?”

Cetina nodded. Her face was obscured by the faint light of the early morning, but he could clearly see her bright clothes, proudly showing her Bebbezzarian colours. He knew that she slept in he brightly coloured clothes, he had awoken her before, but he thought she might have chosen the Dark Elf attire this night. They were surprisingly comfortable and warm.

“Yeah.” Cetina knelt by his bed. “But there’s something happening outside, something coming from the south. It looks bad.”

“Those Knights they were talking about.” Anton lightly slapped his cheeks. “Good thing they turned arrived before we left for Etoile. Otherwise, we’d be running around for weeks.”

“At least we’d have the Dark Elves to act as scouts for us.”

“True.” Anton sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You…You might want to give me a moment.”

“Why?” Cetina frowned. “We don’t have long before they arrive.”

“Because I need to get dressed.” Anton pointed at her chest. “And so do you.”

While Cetina wore her Bebbezzarian colours she didn’t wear her metal armour. And Verona spoke the truth about her needing the armour, judging by the way the cloth remained tight as she leant forward. Cetina realised and smiled.

“Right…I’ll get dressed. Just give me a minute. I’m not exactly dressed in any way under here.”

Cetina murmured something underneath her breath before retreating from the room. Anton sighed and threw the rough covers off. Thankfully, given his station and importance, he was always afforded a private roof or at the very least a tent. He didn’t want to complicate things with having to explain his legs, more specifically his tail. He had yet to see another mage that had transformed from failing to create a summon correctly.

Probably just go mad or get locked up to be experimented on.

His armoured shirt and pants, a reinforced heavy leather, were not a problem but his boots were a pain. His new toes required work and effort to worm into the small confines. Usually he could take his time, the scales slowly bending out of the way but Anton had no choice but to ram them home. He grunted, the scales gripped on the inside and pulled on his flesh but after a few shakes his foot fell into place.

“Damn things,” Anton grunted as he stood up. “You there, Cetina?”

“Ready!” Cetina sounded jubilant, almost. “Everything good?”

Anton tapped his boots on the hard floor. “I guess so.” Anton opened the door, Cetina stood outside at attention. He smiled at her eagerness, despite the early hour. “How’s everyone outside? Are they ready?”

Outside their forces, a motley mixture of mercenaries and militia mixed with the Slihal guards, scrambled to man the walls. The men were exhausted from their swift march over the past few days, the amount of damage they could actually repair during the night was rather limited.

“If there are Knight we should be able to deal with them pretty easily,” Anton said aloud. Cetina took a step forward and raised a brow. “Knights are extremely powerful on the plains, like the open land between the Border Forts and the Clansmen’s mountains, but here, with a forest and a city protected by walls, they’re just soldiers. We don’t need to worry about their armoured charge.”

“Until they break through.” Conrad pointed to the wooden gate. “That’s not going to last long against a bunch of axes. Can…Can you use your magic to do something about that?”

“Make the gate stronger?” Anton frowned lightly and stroked his chin. “Possibly. But I have a much easier way to deal with these Knights. So long as they don’t have a Principle Mage with them.”

“Come to the battlements.” Conrad shouted down and waved him forward. “You’ll see it better from there.”

Anton spotted the Slihal guards, in far better condition than before. They were clearly still incredibly nervous but held themselves together reasonably well. Anton knew full well without his magic he would have turned to a puddle on multiple occasions.

From the defensive wooden palisade the columns of Knights and soldiers were as clear as day. Just like Cetina, or any of the Knightly orders, they cared nothing for camouflage. A thousand heavily armoured Knights, wearing bright golden painted armour, rode at the front of a further two to three thousand soldiers, identical to those from Gresir. Perhaps with slightly better weapons and armour but not by much. Anton counted only a hundred odd archers amongst them. Whomever their commander was they put too much faith in their Knights, especially against a modestly fortified position.

“That’s a lot.” Anton chuckled.

“Do we have crossbows?” Cetina asked, her hand gripping onto the wood. “I don’t know if archers are going to be enough.”

Conrad laughed. “A few. A few. But we don’t have enough bolts, even if we were expert shots. And your little shadowy friends have slunk back into the night. Any chance of them coming back for this? We could use every hand we can get.”

“No. They were a one-off. And as Cetina said arrows aren’t going to be much use against those armoured hides. No wonder the Clansmen have so much trouble with them. I’m sure the Bebbezarians in the past have tried to invade and were thrown back by these.”

“Qaiviel wasn’t always on the defensive.” Conrad smiled. “I’ll send some men to make sure Belinda is safe and secure. It would be terrible for something to happen to her after coming all this way.”

Anton’s peripheral vision caught a flash of red. Belinda stood in the centre of the roadway, completely ignoring the traffic and hurried soldiers running around her.

“That makes things easier then.” Conrad patted Anton’s shoulder and moved to Belinda’s side. He said something to her, Belinda looked a little annoyed but retreated to the relative shelter of a wooden building. It would stop an arrow but not if it was set alight. However, she could simply walk out of harms way.

“Who are we up against? Golden Knights?”

“The Golden Roar.” A Slihal guard said softly. “They’re a Knight Order near Clausonne.”

“Strange that they’ve thrown themselves in with the Church.” Anton stroked his beard. “Given that their leaders were killed in the throne room.”

“Not theirs,” Belinda said loudly. She stood a few meters from the wall, Conrad frantically waved to the mercenaries with large shields to protect her from any stray projectiles. “Bernard killed theirs.”

“Who’s that?”

“A Knight Commander. Like Marcus but a little…Colder. Anyway, the Church is probably going to protect their holdings so long as they fight with them. Strange to see them so far from the capital without much support.”

“Three thousand infantry isn’t support?” Cetina looked at Anton.

“For that many Knights, this far from their main castle?” Belinda shook her head. “They’re desperate. Feeding all those horses and men…I don’t want to think of the cities that they’ve passed.”

“How many have been pressed into service?” Cetina frowned. “Innocent farmers and citizens…But such is war, I suppose.”

“Indeed.” Conrad lightly held Belinda’s arm, she looked to him with great indifference. “I still wish to see this battle. Surely there is somewhere safe for me to watch on?”

“I was ordered to keep you alive and safe.” Conrad ushered her away, towards the centre of Slihal. “So you’ll just have to watch from safety. Alfred would kill me if he knew that you died so close to Castle Etoile.”

“Very well,” Belinda said loudly, running a hand through her hair. “But I would still like to see how our mage fights with my own eyes. See how he's improved since the Orcs and Clansmen.”

Conrad didn’t argue with Belinda further, ushered her away and returned to the wall.

"Any messengers?" Anton asked.

The enemy force continued to pour out of the forest and into the small open plain before the city. Conrad quietly sent orders for the archers and crossbowmen to ready themselves.

"None so far." Conrad murmured. "I don't see anyone there with a white flag. Maybe they're going to hold up one of those militia, think that will do."

"Could the Church soldiers be in command of this attack?"

"Well..." Conrad rubbed his chin, running his tongue along his upper teeth. "Probably not. And if they are its begrudgingly at best. I...They are the Golden Roar, so they might be. They're one of the worst Knight Orders, obsessed with money over everything else. Which, unfortunately for us, means they have some of the best armour and horses in Qaiviel."

"That won't mean much against Anton's magic," Cetina said proudly. Slowly a frown crept up her face. "Unless they have armour that blocks magic. Does Qaiviel have that?"

"It's expensive." Conrad clicked his tongue. "But if anyone has the money..."

The last of the arrows and bolts arrived on the wall as the Golden Roar knights formed a broad front, the Church militia behind.

"Isn't it a bad tactic to send your cavalry first?" Anton began summoning Large Lightning Crows. "Shouldn't the infantry go first? Cavalry to flank?"

Conrad laughed. "These knights are never known for their intelligence. Just charge and let the best man win."

"But we're behind a wall," Cetina said softly.

"Indeed." Conrad held the wood palisade tight. "I wonder if they're just plain stupid."

A Golden Roar Knight, armoured slightly more resplendently than his fellows, rode forward. He had no white flag or any sign that he wished to speak, thankfully the intent was clear. Nevertheless, Anton summoned a total of four Large Lightning Crows and hid them behind the wooden palisade.

"People of Slihal!" The Knight boomed, even with his helmet drawn down tight. "Know that you harbour heretics of the vilest kind within your walls. Open the gates immediately or we will kill every last one of you. Heretics cannot be allowed-"

"Fuck off!" Conrad yelled. Jeers echoed along the wall but not from the local guards.

The Knight raised his helm and smiled. "Good. Haven't had much chance to kill people of late. And there's only so many defenceless young girls you can behead before it gets tiring."

"Was that before or after the coup?" Anton asked.

The Knight continued to smile. As he sneered his tongue picked at something jammed between his teeth. Anton quickly enhanced his vision. A small piece of red plant was stuck between his teeth, all of them but only tiny fragments. It looked, if anything, to be some sort of red moss.

"So what's it going to be?" The Knight pulled back on the reins, his mighty armoured horse began trotting back and forth. "Are you going to condemn all of these people to death alongside you?"

"I'm curious how you're going to get in," Anton said. "Last time I checked there was a gate standing in your way." Anton leant back dramatically, out of his periphery Cetina moved ready to catch him. "Yep. It's still there."

"A flimsy gate like that means little to us. But even if we can't we'll wait until you leave. It won't take us long to break it down then, will it?"

"Why are they telling us this?" Cetina asked softly.

"The moss?"

"Moss?" Conrad asked.

“What is your decision?” The Knight asked, clearly growing in anger. “We don’t have all day. Perhaps the fine people of Slihal need not share your fate-”

Anton threw a Lightning Bomb at the Knight’s head, showering his horse in blood, brains and high-velocity pieces of metal shrapnel. The horse shrieked and reared up, throwing the lifeless corpse from its mount. With a mighty thud it crashed onto the ground, Anton heard the snapping bones even over the horse’s shrieks.

Conrad sighed. “I think we’ve just made our decision.”

“Better than let the people think they’re actually going to let them live.” Anton directed the Large Lightning Crows into the sky. “Hopefully, they’re going to take the bait. But…Maybe they need a little incentive. Something to rile them up.”

Anton threw a Lightning bomb into the air, changed to create the loudest explosion possible with the unintended side effect of startling the Golden Roar's horses and nearly throwing their riders free.

"Looks like your God has failed you!" Anton yelled with all his might. "While mine keeps me safe! Prove us heretics wrong if you can!"

"Do you really think that’s going to work?” Cetina almost laughed.

“Charge!”

“Oh…It did.”

The Golden Roar Knights cheered, drew their weapons and charged, the Church Militia close behind. Anton didn’t understand their reasoning; even if they reached the wall there was no way to break through, even the most damaged sections were more than capable of holding back the charging horses.

Anton merely shrugged and ordered the Large Lightning Crows to attack the Church Militia. They had already lagged behind the charging Knights and, should the Knights be slaughtered, they would scatter into the forest, requiring a huge effort to hunt them down to protect the rear of their forces. The few archers amongst the militia loosed into the sky but the Lightning Crows could stay far above their range. Quickly the rear of their ranks began to evaporate under the rapid succession of lightning strikes, now only sped on by a few amongst the militia screaming orders to charge. But the fear of the unstoppable attacks sapped their strength and determination.

“Archers!” Conrad raised his hand. “Crossbowmen. On my command aim for the horses. Bring down their charge.”

“Shame it’s always the horses that suffer,” Anton mumbled, readying a line of tethered flame pillars.

The ranged soldiers on the wall readied for the order to loose. Anton still didn’t understand their plan, even if they reached it would be impossible to actually breach the gate.

Unless they actually plan just to ram it. Those horses are pretty big…

Anton quickly enhanced his vision, focusing on the horse's teeth. Remains of the red moss could be found in their teeth. The horses acted just as rabid as their riders, more immune to exhaustion and pain than truly crazed.

Conrad shouted and the volley flew forth. Arrows bounced off harmlessly on their thick armour, a few finding a gap and sinking into their flesh. Those horses screamed and reared back, desperate to flee from a source of pain they didn’t understand. Crossbow bolts punched through the thick armour, all had followed Conrad’s orders and aimed for the unfortunate horse’s face and chest. Many fell, Anton felt squeamish as one horse bucked and jumped with two bolts jutting out of its eyes.

“Might want to shield your eyes for this one.” Anton released the tethered line just in front of the line of horses. “Remember the Gravestone?”

“How could I-Damn it.” Conrad dropped below the palisades. “Everyone drop down now!”

White Dog mercenaries followed without question, knowing full well what was about to happen. Their militia forces needed to be dragged down as the ground before the city began to glow red. Cetina followed Conrad’s order too, placing her shield above Anton, just in case of falling debris.

Anton peered through a tiny crack as the land beyond grew red then orange. The horses, the only things Anton felt remorse for, pranced and stomped their hooves to escape the heat but it was simply too late. The columns of flame erupted, enveloping the Knights and their mounts in a blinding light. Cetina drew closer hunkering her body closer to the wall, murmuring something under her breath.

With the ebbing of the flame Anton stood back up. Almost half of the Knights had ceased to exist, now nothing more than cindered sticks holding metal, twisted and charred black, aloft in a grim parody of a Knight. The remaining Knights and horses were heavily damaged and scared. They turned to flee but Anton directed the Crows to attack them instead. With the Knights broken the last of Church militia’s morale began to break, not even the few brave enough to continue ordering attack were sufficient to rebuild their shattered morale. Anton saw three fall without his intervention, a great spray of blood against the nearby white clothes.

"Turning on each other." Anton shook his head. "Not that I blame them."

"Again my sword is useless to you." Cetina swung hers back and forth, sighing dramatically. "If only I could use magic, then I'd be useful."

"Ignoring you two," Conrad sneered. "What are we going to do about them? Can't just leave them to run through the forest."

Anton's Lightning Crows turned to chase the Church Militia, he threw Lightning Bolts and Fire Bombs at the Golden Roar's Knights. Of the thousand that attacked there were reduced to less than two hundred.

"All that training." Anton mused. "All for nothing before magic. I'm just glad they don't have any Principle Mages with them."

"The Golden Roar could afford it. But they are a pompous group of arseholes."

"The enemy is still escaping." Cetina softly reminded them. All of Anton's summons had a very large range, considering what they were, but the enemy, driven by fear and panic, had almost already reached the forest.

"Any chance of those Dark Elves?" Conrad asked.

"Not tonight. I've used them as much as I'm willing." Anton gripped the wall. "They're not exactly...Unorganized."

Cetina tilted her head, eliciting a light groan.

"We'll..." Anton squinted towards the far forest. "Looks like they have reinforcements."

A twinkling trail of lights snaked through the forest, a column of something approaching far more rapidly than feet would allow.

“More Knights.” Anton slapped the wood. “Don’t get complacent yet!”

The lights began to spill out of the forest, the Church Militia stopped, tumbling into one another, and tried to run sideways. A horn resounded from the approaching column, nearly identical to the horn blasted by the Blue Firestorm as they hunted the fleeing Clansmen and Orcs.

“Kill these traitors!”

The torches began to drop, the sound of thunderous hooves filled the air. A column of Knights charged forward, splitting in two to hunt down the Church militia. On foot they had no hope of outrunning the horses, their light or non-existent armour offered nothing to stop Knight’s strikes.

"Any idea who they are?"

Anton ordered the Large Lightning Crows to cease attacks but to keep them close by, just in case. Even if they were enemies, some unknown faction looking to take control, they still couldn't breach the outer walls. And the charred corpses would surely give them pause.

"Yellow and Green armour." Conrad rubbed his chin. "Probably the Yellow Strikers. One of the few Knight Orders in the south east of Qaiviel. I think there are another two to the south. Not much happens there, with the Wood Elves on the southern border and all, so they aren't that big. Still, don't want to fight them."

Half of the Knights split off to deal with the Church Militia while the other charged at the remnants of the Golden Roar. Anton's Lightning Crows managed to fire off a few volleys before the two sides collided. There was no grand strategy at play, nothing more than a furious, bloody brawl. Everyone on Slihal’s walls fell absolutely silent to watch the brutal display. Anton dispatched a few Golden Roar Knights that broke away from the pack, Conrad ordered their weapons lowered lest they injure a potential friend, but these new Knights took most of the kills. The few Golden Roar Knights with any sense left fled into the forest, leaving their fellow Knights to die, but were struck down by large arrows loosed by the Yellow Strikers Knights. Several Yellow Striker’s at the rear wielded the same white bow that Kal was gifted, however the size of the arrow meant they were getting help from somewhere. A magically enhanced bow? Kal had mentioned something about the white and black bow being strangely easy to draw and yet extremely powerful.

Another minute passed and the enemy had scattered. Only a handful of Golden Roar Knights survived, a few more of the Church Militia now stumbling their way through a forest filled with wolves and other predators lured by the scent of fresh blood and fear. One of the Yellow Strikers Knights, wearing the best armour of their group, rode towards the gate.

"Thank you for the assistance." The Yellow Strikers Knight looked to the headless Golden Roar, then to the charred remains. "Though it looks like you have things under control here."

"It was a little close there." Conrad forced a laugh. "But what are you doing so far north? I doubt these men." Conrad motioned to the twisted metal and bone corpses. "Ventured into your lands. Forgive me for saying this, my lord, but do you even know what is happening?"

"We do. The King..." The Knight's obvious disgust flowed through that single word, "More accurately, one of those damn priests, ordered us to attack Duchess Belinda as she returned from a faraway land."

"Where is she, anyway?" Anton murmured to Cetina. Cetina tugged on his sleeve, Belinda stood where Conrad had dragged her from previously, a hand on her hip with a slightly bored expression.

"What do you think, Conrad?"

Conrad looked back, slightly annoyed that Duchess Belinda stood in the open without any guard. A few harsh whispers later and four joined her side, much to her indifference.

"Bring those Crows of yours close to Belinda. I don't think they're hostile, it would be strange to attack their allies...But you never know. It could get them inside. Not a bad plan I suppose."

Anton directed the Crows to the wall as the guards opened the gate. The lead Yellow Strikers Knight rode forward, head held high and seemingly uncaring that he almost hit several tired guards. Anton grumbled, Cetina didn't look too happy either. The Large Lightning Crows flapped loudly from their perch to land just before the Knight. His horse tried to rear up but the Knight kept it under control. As Anton stepped down from the wall, Cetina close on his heels with her shield at the ready, the Knight looked and held him with contempt.

"We are all a little bit on edge." Anton began, Cetina remained very close and quietly drew her sword. "And we can't have you attack our charge, not that we think you will..."

"Lord Pendrum." Belinda stepped forward, gently brushing the guards away. "I did not believe you received Alfred's letter."

"I was surprised, I'll say that." Pendrum smiled warmly. "That you had actually changed and for the better too. It took us a while to agree that something was wrong in the north. When those Church freaks came knocking on our gates we knew that something was very wrong indeed."

"How many Knights do you bring?"

"Nine hundred." Pendrum grimaced slightly. "Our order is smaller than those precious people on the border but we have brought all we can. The rest need to remain behind; bandits or if the Orcs ever choose to attack."

"From the Red Spines?" Anton asked.

"And who are you?" Pendrum wielded his horse towards Anton. "I presume you are the one controlling these creatures."

Cetina stepped in between, a hand gripping on her drawn sword as she rested the tip on the ground.

"I am."

"This is Anton." Belinda hurriedly moved between them, though standing far to one side. "A mercenary mage in my employ. As you can see he is extremely powerful."

Belinda's eyes narrowed towards Pendrum. "And more than capable of defending himself.”

Pendrum nodded. “Very well. Just make sure they keep themselves behaved.”

Guess they’re not all like Marcus and Castor…Well, more like Marcus. The rest were stuck up pricks too.

“We shall keep to ourselves.” Anton bowed his head.

The Knight forcefully returned the bow. He waved the other Knights forward and into Slihal. Anton watched them pass in silence, all were as proud and haughty as the first. Anton held their condescending gaze, ordering the Lightning Crows to hover around his head. The Knight’s contempt faded lightly but still remained their most prominent feature.

"They seem nice." Cetina sheathed her blade.

“I’d better make sure they don’t do anything stupid.” Conrad grumbled. “Or one of our men takes offence to these noble men enforcing their will upon us.”

“Before you do.” Anton caught his attention. “What was that about the red moss?”

“I’ve heard rumours that near the red spines this red moss grows. The Orcs use it for paint, or something, but when humans eat it they go a little crazy.” Conrad smiled. “But the Church, supposedly, had it forbidden for safety reasons. Looks like they aren’t exactly truthful, huh? What a surprise.”

Conrad gave a final quick wave before taking off after the knights.

Cetina shook her head. “Please tell me that Atros won’t behave like that. It’ll be difficult to get help, in the long run, if the people we help end up hating us.”

“Absolutely not. We’ll be far more subtle than this. And a lot more humble. We need to keep Atros safe, and a secret.”

“So what now?”

Anton looked to the west and the faintest light of the rising sun. “Too late to get any more sleep. We’re just going to have to power through it for the day. I hope you’re ready for it.”

Cetina gently rattled her sword in its sheath. “You saw me spending most of the night tending to the Ix. That wasn’t the first time I’ve had to spend the whole night awake.”

“Well…Once we’re back together there’ll be less of that.” Anton smiled. “Four people make keeping watch.”

Cetina muttered something but refused to elaborate when Anton tilted his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cetina smiled warmly.

“Very well.” Anton clapped. “Onto Castle Etoile then?”

Chapter 142 - Vol 4 - Castle Etoile

Chapter 142:

Castle Etoile loomed before Anton. The Black Rider Fortress was utterly massive, a multi-layered stone castle standing proud in an otherwise expansive grasslands. However life extended well beyond its stone confines; a sprawling camp of many thousands surrounded the castle with a small layered wooden palisade wall for defence, hundreds of thin smoke trails rising high into the air.

“About time.” Duchess Belinda stuck her head through the portal in her carriage. “We couldn’t be another day late.”

Their numbers had continued to swell; simple farmers, huntsmen and guards joined their throng, alongside the Yellow Strikers Knights. While garish they held an unmistakable aura of strength and superiority that they, thankfully, didn’t force upon the common soldiers travelling with them. Doubly so after Duchess Belinda and Conrad stressed the magical strength that Anton possessed. Instead of becoming more friendly they kept to themselves, not the ideal outcome but it limited potential animosity to a bare minimum.

“A shame I didn’t get to meet the man.” Anton mused. “King Lambert. He sounds like he was a good King.”

“He was. A very good King. But ultimately, that didn’t save him.”

“Would he have helped us?”

“Absolutely.” Belinda chuckled. “He asked me, in private, if you could be trusted.”

“I’m sure you put in a good word for me.”

“…For all the good it did.” Belinda sighed, dramatically throwing her hand into the air. “But I’m sure Leo will be just as welcoming. Especially if Alfred’s had his ear for the past few days.”

“Riders approaching.” Cetina pointed forward.

A small group of twenty horses, lightly armoured, ran towards them. The camp immediately came to a higher alert; soldiers equipped their weapons and readied themselves for an attack. Anton saw some wearing exceedingly bright clothes. Just like the mages in the Basilisk swamp.

“Principle Mages?” Anton rubbed his chin. “Do you think any would be willing to move to Atros?”

Belinda laughed. “Absolutely not. I’m sure they’re complaining that there are commoners breathing the same air as them, let alone moving to some frontier backwater town. No offence, of course.”

“None taken. It’s what it really is.”

Conrad and several White Dog mercenaries rode alongside. “Light cavalry. No markings of a Knight Order.” Conrad smirked at the Knights travelling with them. “These guys love to show off their colours. Probably a local lord’s detachment. Seems like Leo’s done well in gaining their trust. That’s not easy for a Prince, especially one that’s going against the King, or Kings. Whatever.”

“Seems competent.”

“I’ve heard he’s a womanizer too.” Conrad laughed. “Better keep your woman there close.”

“If he tries anything I’ll put him in his place.” Anton glanced at Cetina. “I’m not going to give up my bodyguard to anyone.”

“I…Thanks.” Cetina suppressed a smile, shaking her head derisively.

“So stay close though.”

Cetina nodded. The cavalry approached, the men looked intimidating but were undeniably a little nervous. Not surprising considering there were several thousand people travelling with them.

“In the name of King Leo, identify yourselves.”

Belinda’s carriage door opened. “Duchess Belinda. Bringing reinforcements to King Leo for the march on the capital.”

The cavalry commander looked over the soldiers. When he saw the brightly coloured Knights his face relaxed.

“Please follow me. We have a section of the camp cordoned off for you. King Leo was adamant that you would arrive soon.”

“Lead on.” Belinda closed the door.

The cavalry led their convoy through the camp. Immediately Anton’s senses were assaulted by the smell of human waste. The flat ground didn’t have anywhere where such leavings could be safely removed and dealt with, nor a little river for some poor soul to suffer downstream. Lightly armoured soldiers stared as they passed, mostly concerned with the bright and gaudy Knights. Conrad scoffed at the attention lavished upon them.

Their section of the camp reserved for them was quite good, all things considered. The tents were large and well organised, secluded from the rest of the camp via a small wooden wall and room for their horses. Anton hopped off as a soldier took his horse to be moved to a stable. He took the packs containing the portal stones, the most important thing he had, and slung it over his side. Cetina offered to take his but declined.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I really should take it.” Cetina frowned lightly. “If you’re supposed to be a representative of Atros you probably shouldn’t be introduced to the potential King of the Qaiviel Kingdom looking like a vagabond.”

Anton smiled. “But you won’t be able to use your sword properly if you have this over your back. I don’t even need to raise my hand.”

Cetina pouted. “It still looks bad.”

“Alright. Let’s just make sure it sits right on your back.”

The pack was fastened to Cetina’s back, very similar to a school backpack from Earth. Anton smiled but Cetina didn’t understand.

“I’ll tell you later. Now, where is Duchess Belinda?

“Here.”

Belinda raised her red dress as she stepped across the trodden grass. Though her dress wasn’t long enough to catch the dirt it was better to be safe.

“I actually prefer your city,” Belinda grunted at the ground. “At least there wasn’t horse poo everywhere.”

“It’s not all from horses,” Cetina said softly.

“Oh…” Belinda turned to Conrad and Hemiskr, waiting patiently behind. “Make sure everyone is fed and rested. Where…Where are the Yellow Strikers?”

“They dropped away when we were entering the camp.” Hemiskr began. “They drifted towards the Blue Firestorm and Grey Lightning camps.”

“Well….That’s incredibly disappointing.” Belinda shrugged. “The Knight Orders are just as arrogant as I thought. Well, not all of them are. I’d still like to have a bit more in the numbers but I’m sure that you will make up for it. Will you be bringing the other two? Verona and Kal?”

“I will. I just need somewhere safe and secure to do it.”

They passed through the rudimentary outer camp and into the fortress proper. Heavily armoured soldiers wearing jet black armour, Anton was sure one was a woman, attempted to bar their passage but upon seeing Duchess Belinda they allowed them passage. Someone tried to sneak past and was promptly stuck hard in the gut with the butt of a halberd before being thrown into a muddy pile, of something other than mud.

Cetina’s arm thumped hard against his chest as they stepped through. She nodded towards a large pile of bodies next to the gate. Dead men and women had been tossed together, everything had been scavenged from their body except for bloodstained white clothes. Beyond them lay a pile of cheap weapons and armour, rummaged through by men and women wearing brightly coloured clothes, cleaning and repairing them before stacking them on small carts.

“There’s no point in leaving good weapons go to waste,” Belinda said. “And it gives the Pages and Squires something to do.”

“Not exactly what comes up in my mind when I hear Pages and Squires but I’ll believe you.”

“They need to start somewhere.” Belinda shrugged. “And it keeps them busy. They’ll be kept busy no matter how long this war lasts.”

---[]---

With Verona and Kal by his side, Kal once again wearing the stuffy white and green mask, they began the ascent to the top of the central castle. Alfred, Belinda’s tireless butler, greeted and, before many words could be exchanged, directed them up the stairs to the highest point of the castle. Anton passed many maids and servants, not all wore the black clothes of the Black Riders, many had a blue and white garb, apparently a small selection of Pages and Squires from the Blue Firestorm Order. Belinda explained they were some of the few people trusted in the same buildings as the King, but even though they weren’t allowed nearby.

“How many people does a King need?” Verona asked, tapping her boots on the stone floor. “This all seems very familiar somehow.”

“It’s not just for the King.” Belinda took the stairs slower than anyone else. No one else wore a skirt. “This castle serves hundreds of people and horses. Do you expect this place to function on just a few soldiers? Who will run the kitchens?”

“Oh. How big are those?”

“Please don’t encourage her,” Anton said, Kal sighed and pushed Verona to keep her moving. “Make sure that no one removes your mask, Kal. It’ll only make this thing a lot more difficult.”

“I probably should just go back to The Shadow Isles.” Kal murmured, clearly she still wanted to be here with them.

“If you have to come here again it’s best they know who you are right now. They aren’t just going to let you wander around a camp with that mask. And if they find out…”

“I’ll remain vigilant.”

“So long as this whole thing doesn’t turn out like last time.” Anton mused.

“What happened last time?” Belinda asked.

“It didn’t go well.” Verona laughed. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

Belinda looked a little more apprehensive but her path had already been set.

Alfred brought them to a halt before a large wooden door, flanked by Black Rider Knights. Though Verona was joking her words rung true. Hopefully, things would be better this time, Leo sounded more reasonable than the Mist Walker Elders.

Alfred raised his hands. “There are a few things that I need to explain to you before we enter. And these cannot be repeated outside of this room.”

“And you’re telling us here?” Anton asked.

Alfred nodded, whispering to them the death of Prince Giles, and Harold and Valérie’s incestuous relationship. All were silent for a time. Not even Verona had something funny to say.

“So please do not mention any of that,” Alfred said. “And please let us introduce you first before you say anything. King Leo is still very new and he needs to know how to deal with unexpected events and those that do not adhere to our customs, like you…four are going to bring.”

Alfred frowned lightly. “How did you get to Bebbezzar?”

Anton waved him down. “Anything that might set Leo off?”

“Perhaps blaming him for what happened. Otherwise not really. He has already dealt with several mayors that have proven to be quite hostile to his new reign but won them over regardless. So he is flexible when dealing with people.”

“Hopefully we can be of better use this time.”

And we don’t have to depose a King. Would Belinda end up ruling? That might actually be good for us in the long run.

Verona and Cetina bumped his sides. Alfred nodded to the guards and opened the heavy doors. Verona groaned at the sight, it was exactly as they had described what happened on The Shadow Isles. The interior was nearly identical too. A large wooden table sat in front of a large open balcony, allowing a completely unimpeded view of the lands north of the castle. The table itself was littered with maps and papers with three men leaning over the largest and another two standing well behind. Anton recognised two. Marcus, commander of the Knightly Order, stood hunched over next to the table, speaking with a young man wearing simple yet expertly crafted metal armour and another gigantic Black Rider Knight. Behind them stood a young boy wearing a golden set of clothes and another Blue Firestorm Knight. Castor, Marcus’s second in command and a man that grievously insulted Verona and Kal. Hopefully, he had learned his lesson.

The Black Rider Knight rose up. “Alfred. I see that your lady has returned.”

His voice growled with every spoken letter.

“I see that your guidance has done little to mellow Bernard,” Belinda said.

“I have tried.” Marcus smiled at the unmoving and seemingly unfeeling Bernard. “I’d have greater success winning this war by myself.”

Castor’s body turned rigid upon recognising them. The young boy looked him up and down, confused as to his reaction. Castor scrunched his fist and forced himself to remain calm.

“Anton?” Marcus raised his finger as he approached. “That’s right. You’re wearing better armour than I last saw you with. Last time it was just some scrap that Belinda had given you, not this fancy gear.”

“We’ve been having our own little adventure.” Anton shook his hand, firm but not crushingly tight. “Sounds like you have as well.”

Anton wasn’t sure if Marcus was about to give him a hug, the girls were ready to intervene in their own way.

“Yes. Though I would much prefer to be on the border watching the snow. So much better than this.”

Marcus pointed to the young boy. “This is Noah, a Page from the Golden Roar. We’ll explain later how and why he’s here, and this is King Leo of the Qaiviel Kingdom.”

While they had been speaking Leo remained silent, carefully listening to the words Bernard whispered into his ear and occasionally nodding. Everything that was occurring in this room was extremely informal. Anton hoped he wouldn’t take offence by their manner of speaking.

Let’s try and do this right.

“I am honoured to meet the King of Qaiviel.” Anton bowed his head, followed by the girls. “I merely wish that we met underneath better circumstances.”

Leo took another word from Bernard and nodded. “As do I, Anton. All things considered, I’d rather still be a Prince rather than a King. But fate has a way of making those decisions for us. Alfred and Belinda, especially Alfred, spoke much of your abilities. I hope that you will be of help during the coming days.”

Leo motioned them towards the far side of the table. Noah coughed lightly, producing a tray with four glasses of wine.

I have the poison immunity but it’s best to double check.

Anton cast the prayer on himself and on the girls before taking the drink. Kal politely refused, no one appeared to mind. The wine was exceedingly good and no sign of poison or any sort of corruption.

“Thank you.” Anton gently laid the glass cup back onto the silver tray. “Duchess Belinda has already informed me of most of what is happening. I…Do not believe that you need it reiterated. So, what is the plan and how can we help? Just bear in mind that there are only four of us.”

Leo slowly nodded before tapping the largest map strewn across the table. “In four days the bulk of our forces will have assembled at Castle Etoile. We can’t expect many more after that; just about everyone that’s willing to fight with us has already joined, those that haven’t chosen a side are trying lying low to avoid the bloodshed but that won’t save them. Not to mention Harold has the Royal Army at their beck and call and all of the garrisons dotted around the country-”

“We still have not detected any movement from those garrisons.” Marcus glanced at Alfred. “We don’t know if they’re planning something or they’re refusing his commands.”

“Are you worried about any attacks to your rear?” Anton asked.

“No,” Bernard said flatly.

Ever since entering the room, and especially upon nearing the table he had kept a very firm eye on Anton.

I was the person accused of heresy and kind of starting this whole mess, though indirectly. He obviously thinks I might be able to control minds…I sort of can I suppose.

“Every day we waste only gives them more time to gather their forces and strength.” Leo pointed a dagger at the capital. “We cannot win if we plan to drag this war out.” Leo tapped the table. “I might not be the smartest person but even I can understand that we are on the losing side. So we have no choice but to strike a decisive blow immediately.”

“If they have magical defences I might be in a bit of trouble.” Anton summoned a small fireball. Those new to Anton were surprised by the ease of his magical control. “Glyph and Principle Magic really isn’t that compatible.”

“Alfred has devised a plan to deal with the mages.” Leo received a nod. “They shouldn’t be much of a problem when we march on the capital.”

“Please don’t think of us as simple mercenaries when you are planning your battles,” Anton said. “We will fight for you, but we aren’t going to be ordered around like a common soldier or battle-mage. No suicidal mission so you don’t have to pay us.”

Leo chuckled, dismissing a looming Bernard. “Alfred said you lot were strange.”

His attention was drawn to the girls’ bodies for just a moment.

I’ve seen more than enough pretty maids in this castle. If you want one of them then go for it, but you aren’t laying a finger on any of them…Did I just agree to Verona’s little plan?

“But I agree. Perhaps it is best if you are granted some autonomy.” Leo smiled. “So long as you actually contribute.”

“We will.” Verona tapped the table. “Don’t worry about that.”

“And what can you offer, Clanswoman?”

Behind Leo, Castor visibly paled. He remembered all too well that Verona could easily kill everyone in this room without any effort, doubly so with her newfound knowledge and Effigy. Bernard picked up on Castor’s distress and relayed the message to Leo. Leo coughed and refocused himself.

“My apologies.” Leo tapped his chest with his mailed fist. “I am still new to Kingship. Turns out I can’t behave like when I was a Prince. That nearly cost me several thousand soldiers already.”

Marcus’s eyes turned vacant yet deeply annoyed. Probably a faux pa with a local lord. Caught trying to seduce his daughter or wife?

“Unfortunately we do not have control of the royal treasury.” Marcus began, the vacant look disappearing. “So we cannot pay you right now.”

“We have already agreed to a preliminary reward.” Belinda waved down their concerns. “A generous sum of gold and access to all of the Qaiviel libraries.”

“Those are acceptable rewards,” Anton said. “We will aid you in this war.”

Leo nodded. “Very well. So long as, as a mercenary, you do your part I’m sure that everything will go fine. But all of it will be for nought if I am not the only King of Qaiviel.” Leo gripped his hand tight, the metal mail grated underneath the strain. “I’ll see my brother hang for what they did to my father and my kingdom.”

Already calling yourself King? I suppose you’re better than sending massive human waves of civilians and creating those hideous Stitch Soldiers.

A loud knock came from the door. Everyone rested their hands on their weapons. Noah hesitantly approached the door and slowly pulled the creaking door open. A lightly armed Black Rider, a Squire, breathed heavily, a hand resting against the door.

“Speak,” Bernard ordered.

“Forgive me, my lord. My King. Our scouts have spotted a small force approaching from the north. About one hundred horses, fifty are Knights with bright red armour.”

“Red Salamanders?” Marcus frowned. “Why are they here? They’re on the other side of the kingdom.”

“I don’t know, my lord. What do we do?”

Marcus looked at Leo. Leo held his chin, his eyes in deep thought.

“Let’s see…Far too few to attack us successfully. Clearly a messenger.” Leo nodded. “Bring them into the castle, but make sure they surrender their weapons. And make sure they aren’t Principle Mages in disguise.”

“They won’t get far with us here.” Anton smiled. “So who’s in command of the Red Salamanders?”

---[]---

Anton felt extremely out of place. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cleaved with an axe. No one said a word, only the light clinking of Noah’s tray broke the oppressive silence. An elderly man sat stood across from King Leo. To Anton, who stood well behind the King, he looked completely unremarkable; simple but professionally made clothes and well-groomed hair. A small necklace caught his attention, the symbol of The Church of The Holy Father dangled around his neck but something was off. Compared to everything else it was remarkably dirty; this man wore the symbol of his faith but refused to maintain it. Very strange.

“Are they going to kill him?” Verona asked softly.

“To say they look angry is an understatement,” Kal added.

Anton couldn’t agree more.

“I should kill you for what you’ve done to the Kingdom,” Leo grumbled, his arms folded to control his trembling hands. “To my father. And everyone else your ilk has killed.”

“I probably should be killed,” Terill spoke very softly and calmly, completely unconcerned he could be cut down at a moment’s notice.

“Who is he?” Verona asked.

Belinda and Alfred stood to their side, why they all hadn’t been ejected from the room for this meeting was only down to Alfred’s influence over King Leo. Alfred explained Terrill’s position; an inquisitor of The Church of The Holy Father, part of the force trying to increase the Church’s influence over the Kingdom and present during the coup. And a man that despised heretical Glyph magic and held incredible disdain for Beast-kin.

“You should have stayed in the capital,” Bernard growled. “Why are you even here?”

Terill slowly nodded. “I agree. As of now, my life is at the mercy of Queen Lila.”

“Lila?” Leo stepped back, slightly stunned. He blinked at the table then to the ground. “She’s alive? How did they not find her? She’s just one girl?”

Anton reached around Verona and Cetina, tapping Alfred’s arm. “Who’s that?”

“The first princess of the Qaiviel Kingdom,” Alfred whispered back. Belinda stood beside him and leant around his elderly butler. “She went missing after the initial coup and no one heard anything about her. We presumed that she was dead like King Lambert.”

“Doesn’t seem too happy about that.”

Alfred nodded. “Indeed.”

Leo tapped the table. “How? How did she survive the Stitch Soldiers in the throne room? I only survived because I was dragged out of there.”

“Lila slipped away during the initial fight through a secret panel. I decided to leave when Cardinal Abeau hinted that I would be killed, since I didn’t have anything to do with the coup and the death of your father-”

“Liar!” Leo slammed the table. He pointed an accusatory finger at Terill, who didn’t flinch or respond other than looking at his finger. “You’re a part of The Church and part of what happened.”

Terill sighed lightly. “I cannot prove that I was not. Regardless, I must ask you to forgive me for the part that I played. My lack of oversight allowed this to happen.”

Terill bowed deeply. Leo remained angry abated slightly.

“But I have a message from Queen Lila for you.”

“Queen? Lila?” Leo scoffed. “That completely uninteresting girl thinks she is a Queen?”

“She is far stronger and smarter than you think. Five Knight Orders and thousands of soldiers follow her commands with nothing more than the strength of her words and conviction. She only had me at the beginning, she didn’t have loyal retainers or two entire Knight Orders at her disposal.”

Leo wanted to say something but Bernard held his shoulder. The stoic man shook his head and Leo relaxed.

“Perhaps. But as King Lambert’s first son I am the rightful King. Not her. She will never be Queen.”

Terill flinched and looked incredibly awkward. A strange reaction to the possibility of a woman taking the throne.

“I suppose that really depends on who gets the throne first.” Terill produced two slim pieces of paper from his shirt. “Queen Lila plans to retake the Kingdom, on her own if necessary, but we should work together.”

“What is this?” Leo asked.

Marcus took the paper and read the contents. A smirk crept up his face before passing them to Leo. Leo’s eyes scanned only the top of the first page before tossing it aside. Noah picked up the paper, genuine sadness on his face before he placed it on the table before Leo. Leo brushed it aside again and placed the second paper on the table, placing small weights on the edges.

“Lila has more balls than Harold.” Leo snickered. “If I’d known she could be this brave and daring I would have paid her more attention.”

Anton leant forward; the first page was a letter, quite a detailed letter of a sister trying to implore her brother to work with her. The second was a simple map of the Qaiviel Kingdom divided into two colours. The Qaiviel Kingdom carved into two.

“Queen Lila will take the western half of the Qaiviel Kingdom and you will keep the eastern half, including the capital and surrounding territories.”

“Are you serious?” Leo tossed the map into the air, Noah caught the page delicately. “She’s planning to take half of my Kingdom away from me.”

Terill continued to look blankly at Leo.

Leo took a deep breath. “Marcus, Bernard, Alfred, you are my advisors. What should I do?”

“I think you should take the offer,” Marcus said. “Though, perhaps inappropriate to bring up, you don’t actually have a Kingdom. If you were to fight your sister Harold would only become stronger. And if you were to fight after deposing your brother it would only destroy the Kingdom further.”

“I believe you should as well.” Alfred continued. “The Qaiviel Kingdom cannot afford a single civil war, let alone two. Lila has amassed considerable forces herself, though smaller than yours, and clearly has some skilled commanders with her, thanks to the Knight Orders. Since the split contains most of the major ports and the cities to the south, so it’s not poor in the slightest.”

Bernard grumbled. “My duty is to the King. And that is you, Leo. I will follow your wishes but…Perhaps we should. The immediate land around the capital is very rich and prosperous. Though if Lila attempts to try and take any more than this I will not hesitate to cut her down and anyone else that stands with her.”

“Very well.” Leo nodded. “Tell Lila that we will work together. But I am moving on the capital immediately. If she doesn’t contribute to the assault and removal of my brother and mother I won’t recognise this. There’s no way a Queen will ever sit on the throne of Qaiviel by sitting on her fat arse while I do all the work.”

There’s no love lost between you two, well, at least for your sister. This will all probably end quite badly, maybe even another war.

Leo face slowly fell, memories of happier times threatened to overwhelm him. He slammed a fist into his leg and closed his eyes.

“Tell me something, Terill. You were there after the coup, at least for a little while. Tell me.” Leo’s voice almost began to quiver. “Tell me why Harold, Giles and Valérie killed my father. And why my mother killed my brother.”

Terill shifted in his seat. “Valérie had a vision, during a visit to a cathedral to the west. She saw an angel, I don’t know if she actually did or she’s just insane-”

“You’re talking about my mother.”

“Your mother killed her husband, her son and is in a physical relationship with your brother. What else would you call it?”

Leo said nothing.

Terill sighed lightly and continued. “Queen Valérie said the angel told her to seize control of the Qaiviel Kingdom, to place Harold on the throne and destroy a growing heretical force to the east.” Terill looked at Anton. “And I presume that’s you four. You don’t dress like anyone from Qaiviel I know, perhaps one from Bebbezzar.”

“It appears what Abeau said was correct.” Marcus smiled. “Sort of.”

“And to destroy them by any means necessary.” Terill shrugging sadly. “That’s why she plotted to put Harold on the throne. Madness I say.”

“My mother seemed so normal most of the time.” Leo sighed. “She had her quirks but who doesn’t?”

“That’s what the angel said to do. And Valérie followed her words to the letter.”

Something nagged at the back of Anton’s head. A crusade, tens or even hundreds of thousands of soldiers from Qaiviel could easily wipe Atros off the map without any effort. And there was someone that could be described as angelic that wanted to destroy Atros. She had already tried once before.

“Do you know what this angel looked like?” Anton asked.

“Valérie did describe her.” Terill coughed. “A young woman with flowing blonde hair, tall and quite voluptuous, even more so than Valérie, nestled in a forest surrounded by deers.”

Anton’s blood turned cold then hot. “I see.”

“Do you know anything?” Belinda asked.

“Not really.” Anton leant against the wall, clasping his ring hand with his left. “I thought it might reveal something. See if this angel is just an excuse or something more.”

“I’ve checked the scripture and there are no angels of The Holy Father that look anything like the one she described. I suspect that she’s been fooled by some demonic being into causing all this madness.”

“Not much we can do there.” Leo pushed the divided map towards Terill.

As Terill and Leo began speaking about the finer details of the division of the Qaiviel Kingdom, Anton bumped Verona and Kal.

"That damned bitch still wants to destroy us,” Anton spoke into the rings. The girls looked to him, Verona clasped her hand shut.

“Nithroel? I thought we were on good terms. At least we weren’t supposed to kill each other.”

“That agreement she made obviously means nothing. It’s like a little legal loophole; she’s not attacking us but she’s just encouraging someone to fight us in her stead.”

“Stupid fat bitch.”

“Sounds like we have no choice now,” Kal said quietly. “But if we return to The Shadow Isles it’ll be only you two. I still need to heal the wounded and crippled Dark Elves. And if they don’t want Verona to be here because of her powers…Will that be enough?”

“It’ll have to be. I’m not letting Nithroel destroy our home.”

“And you aren’t telling them this because?” Cetina asked.

“Right now it would only complicate things. We need to have a chat with our gods right away, see what they can do about this. There might be a way to stop a total war between the gods that’ll destroy this world.”

Anton prayed to Tethra to set up a meeting with their gods, including Jira. As before at the Kobolds camp, the mana vanished into the ether but he felt nothing in return. They would simply have to wait.

Leo slowly nodded as he took the map and passed it to Noah. Noah, trying his utmost, tried to present Leo with the letter. He grunted and waved it aside, leaving Noah somewhat despondent.

“I agree to this.” Leo turned to the larger map of Qaiviel near the table. “There is a large town to the west. We passed through it on the way to Castle Etoile. And they’ve refused to join me. Bernard, how many soldiers do you think they could muster?”

“Five thousand, easily.” Bernard folded his arms. “Good quality soldiers too. A couple hundred cavalry too. Maybe even a mage. It’s large enough to potentially have one, though I’m sure the mayor doesn’t have one.”

Leo nodded and turned back to Terill. “Tell Lila, I refuse to call her Queen, we will be attacking this city immediately. Before they can join Harold we’ll take it from them. Our new mercenaries will be put to good use.”

Anton gave a curt nod, all that Leo needed.

“My King.” Alfred bowed as he took a step forward. “I know several people from the town. The mayor is not well liked, and the people do not believe that Lambert would give the crown to Harold, or Giles, before you. However, he is well protected by well-paid mercenaries. If we remove him, in a show of force, I suspect nearly all of the town's forces can be convinced to join you.”

“I will return to Lila’s side and convey your message.” Terill slowly stood up. His eyes fell upon the letter but he kept his disappointment to a minimum. “Lila will have already marched on several targets by now and should be ten days away from the capital. I wish you the best of luck, King Leo.”

Terill bowed deeply, almost enough to hit the table. Leo returned a curt nod as Terill was escorted out of the room. He spared a glance for Anton, something told him he would be seeing more of this fallen Inquisitor before they were through with Qaiviel.

“Bernard, Marcus. Prepare our forces for an assault.” Leo turned to Anton. “I trust that you will be joining us.”

“We will do everything we can so the assault is a success,” Anton replied. “Any trouble spots will be reduced to rubble.”

“What about me?” Verona asked softly. Her body glowed as a blood shard formed over her hand. “Are you sure you want someone like me here? Since it’s so obvious that I use Glyph Magic?”

“Perhaps.” Marcus stroked his beard. “But I’m sure word of your…Abilities, will spread. You can do that easier than when I last saw you.”

Verona chuckled. “I think so too.” She looked to Anton. “Unless there’s a big battle Kal and I will be...Elsewhere. At least we won’t offend anyone with our presence.”

“We should be more than enough.” Anton created a fire and lightning bomb.

“Hopefully the mayor will see reason.” Marcus chuckled. “Or the people will get rid of him before we actually attack.”

“Either way.” Leo turned to the large map, putting a tiny red knobbed pin into the city. “Our first true siege of this civil war begins.”

Chapter 143 - Vol 4 - King Leo's First Battle

Chapter 143:

“Please forgive me, my King.” The mayor of Poisier begged, grovelling on his hands and knees.

He and several of his loyal retainers, who had tried to flee the battle but were caught by scouts, grovelled before King Leo. Leo stood in front of them, the mayoral build of Poisier burning behind them, with a look of complete indifference.

Overall the mayor was an unremarkable man of build and stature, but his near snivelling did not leave a good impression.

“You refused my summons,” Leo said softly.

He spared a glance to the prisoners, those that decided to fight against Leo’s army. A valiant and brave action to be sure but ultimately a pointless one. Anton and Cetina had done very little during the battle. Anton wasn’t about to risk his neck or Cetina’s, and Anton didn’t want to show off the full extent of his abilities to keep his own side guessing, so they remained near the rear and provided support with his lightning crows. The walls of Poisier held the tell-tale black marks of lightning strikes, even a few scorched outlines of what once a person. He didn’t attack indiscriminately, only the local commanders. Alfred and Marcus explained that it was the easiest way to break the enemy and they were more than likely the few people that actually obeyed the mayor’s actions.

“And you decided to fight me.” Leo shook his head, the mayor kept his nose planted firmly on the dusty cobblestone street. “You knew how this would end.”

A thunderous march of hundreds of Knights, their bright resplendent armour shining brightly in the sun, rode along the far edge of the central plaza. They marched clean through an iron gate blown inwards from magic. Not Anton’s magic, but a small team of Principle Mages. It was very similar to one of Anton’s fire Octahedron bombs, albeit with a longer range, but it produced the same results. They were arguably as strong as the Principle Mages in the forest, perhaps a little more. Anton knew he needed more training before fighting a truly skilled Principle Mage. At least if he wanted to not obliterate the nearby land.

“Forgive me, my King.” The mayor continued to grovel before Leo. “I was wrong. King Harold….I mean, the false King Harold sent envoys, ordering me to hold as long as I could.”

“Even a fool would know this city couldn’t be held against us for long,” Bernard grumbled. “You barely slowed us down.”

Bernard spared a glance to Anton, to the scorch marks and the six Large Lightning Crows resting on nearby rooves.

Definitely sizing me up in case I need to be taken out. If he gets in melee I’m done, maybe not with the Marble Spear, except it can’t pierce metal.

“They said the Royal Army is mobilising.” The mayor spared a glance at Leo. “They’ve gathered their forces and are marching to Poisier before attacking Castle Etoile. That’s all I know.”

“Throw them in a dungeon somewhere.” Leo dismissively waved his hand, turning his back on the mayor and his retainers. “And find me someone who will be loyal.”

“Please! Your Majesty!” The mayor kicked and screamed as Black Rider Knights dragged them away. “I can redeem myself. I swear it!”

Leo paid him no heed as his screams faded away to nothing.

“The poor fool should have just surrendered.” Marcus shook his head. “He might still be mayor.”

Bernard grumbled. “He defied the King’s will, twice. That sort of man has no place serving underneath a King.”

Marcus shrugged, not wanting to get into an argument. “At least most of the city and people were spared.”

“Indeed.” Leo looked to the small groups of disarmed Poisier soldiers.

Apart from removing their weapons and armour, they had been treated very well. Some of Leo’s very limited Life Principle Mages moved between the most heavily injured. A white glow covered the wounded as the mages chanted magic and the wounds began to slowly heal themselves.

“Couldn’t you do that?” Cetina asked softly. “You can heal much faster than them.”

Anton shook his head. “If they hear me using my magic, praising Tethra or simply not using the right chants, they’ll get suspicious. Remember, this whole thing started because of us. Sort of…”

“Will that be a problem later?” Cetina looked at Leo.

“Probably.” Anton sighed. “But a problem for another time. Keep your wits about you though, who knows what might happen.”

Cetina gripped the pommel of her sword hard and continued to scan their surroundings.

“Are we returning to Castle Etoile?” Anton asked. “Or is this going to be our new rallying point before moving on the capital?”

Leo rubbed his lightly bearded chin. “Any stragglers will regroup with our forces here. Though we have less than I’d like, we need to move on the capital now.” He gripped his fists hard and looked to the west. “There’s no way I’m letting Lila get to the throne first.”

Everyone fell silent. Marcus, and even Bernard to a lesser extent, appeared saddened by Leo’s seeming dismissive contempt for his sister. As the seconds dragged on Anton dared to ask the question.

“Beyond simply Lila receiving a little less than half of the Qaiviel Kingdom, is there a reason why you seem to dislike your sister so much?” Anton asked. “As an outsider, it looks like she’s the only one of your siblings that didn’t try to kill you.”

Leo stopped and stared at Anton. Finally, he relaxed and swayed his fist back and forth. “I never liked her. She was always so quiet, like a doll. We could never get her to smile or do anything really. I thought she was stupid. Apparently not. But that doesn’t matter now. I will be the King of Qaiviel, as my father intended, and she will not stop me.”

Marcus shot Anton a look. The war wasn’t going to end with Harold and Valérie’s death.

A Blue Firestorm Knight charged through the meandering crowds of soldiers and dismounted Knights, yelled and clamouring to be allowed through.

“The Royal Army is approaching!” The Knight hurriedly dismounted his panting horse. “They’ll be here any moment.”

“Numbers?” Marcus asked flatly, resting a hand on his sword.

“I don’t know, but more than ours. A small group, about thirty, have broken away from the main group and is heading here.”

“So they want to negotiate?” Leo nodded. “Send everyone we can to the western walls and ready for an attack. Bernard, see what they want.”

“At once.” Bernard bowed and summoned a horse.

Marcus approached Anton, Cetina’s grip tightened ever so slightly. “Don’t worry about the wall. You’d better come with us. Just in case we need to make a hasty getaway. You don’t need the time the Principle Mages need for their magic, yes?”

“Indeed. But if there’s a Principle Mage there it might be a problem.” Marcus frowned lightly. “They have a nasty way of unravelling our magic.”

“But you can still use those flame pillars?”

“Absolutely.” Anton smiled. “Last Principle Mages I fought against couldn’t stop it.”

---[]---

The Royal Army gave Anton no illusions that they were in serious trouble. They positioned themselves in front of Poisier, well outside of arrow or bolt range, and waited in silence. Every soldier was fully equipped in heavy armour, a mixture of gambeson and metal plate, some even with Bosciycium and Chelium swords and shields. Behind those were archers, also wearing heavy armour but equipped with large white bows, identical to the one Kal had been given by Castor. Anton couldn’t see any Principle Mages amongst them but it didn’t mean they weren’t just hiding; wearing normal armour with their charm hidden safely behind a thick shield.

“I wonder how much they cost,” Anton said softly. “I wonder if our silver mine is enough now.”

“Should be,” Verona replied, checking that no one nearby had heard. “You saw how much was in that place…But it’s probably close…Why are they all different?”

Verona spoke the truth, there were slight differences between each of the pieces of armour and weapons while still conforming to a standard. However, they didn’t have time to admire, or perhaps fear, the sight. A negotiation was taking place before them. Cetina and Verona had swapped positions; if there was to be a battle they’d definitely want Verona’s strength for the battle, no matter the potential political ramifications.

The Commander of the Royal Army, a large man, as tall and wide as Bernard with an impressive grey beard and moustache, sat opposite Leo. Both men had been provided camp chairs, situated across from one another as both sides arranged far behind their leaders. The Commander’s personal guard were all heavily armed soldiers. Compared to them Anton and Cetina looked thoroughly out of place. Perhaps Marcus wanted that too, keep them guessing as to their purpose. A distraction. Anton was impartial to being used as such.

“You’ve grown, Leo.” The Commander smiled. “When was the last time I saw you?”

“Just before the snows began to fall.” Leo chuckled. He patted the top of his helmet. “I don’t think I’ve grown much taller.”

“Not taller, but wider.” The Commander laughed. “But maybe that’s just the armour. You do look like you’re filling it up though.”

Leo leant forward, the smile slowly fading from his face. “I don’t want to fight you, Henri.”

Henri waved at his closest warrior. He, Anton presumed the soldier was a he, it was nearly impossible to tell, gave Henri a small hip flask.

“Neither do I, young Leo.” Henri downed the contents, a few droplets of a purple wine ran down his beard. “But I have my orders from the King. I’ve done everything I can but I have to follow them.”

He’s looking for a way out. If he wanted to he could fight us, possibly win too, but he didn’t. Let’s hope Leo is up to the task.

Leo quickly realised Henri’s intention. “You should join me. If you’ve come all this way, and aren’t planning to fight me right away, you obviously have plans greater than simply fighting and dying for a murderer.”

“To be fair, Queen Valérie killed your father and brother.” Henri smiled bitterly. “It is now an open secret in the capital. It was inevitable that someone would talk.”

“Regardless, will you not join me? Together we could easily defeat my brother and restore order to the kingdom.”

No mention of your sister…

“I cannot simply change my allegiance without my men deserting me.” Henri leant back, the chair groaning underneath his weight. “The Royal Army always follows the will of the King of Qaiviel. And right now that’s Harold, whether we like it or not.”

That’s quite obviously a lie, at least to some degree. I’m sure Harold and that Cardinal Abeau ordered you to march out right away but you admitted that you delayed as much as possible.

Leo tapped his leg. “If we were to fight there would be death. Too much death, with so many enemies that threaten the Kingdom. Our enemies would pounce upon us and tear us to shreds.”

“Indeed it would. Many more would suffer, beyond those present, if we were to fight. Surely you’ve heard of the mess in Bebbezzar? Already some are moving into Qaiviel territory and attempting to seize land.”

Henri took a deep breath, gently shaking his head. Anton was glad that Cetina wasn’t present.

“A contest of champions then,” Leo said, a faint smile crept up Henri’s lips. “Pit one of your warriors against one of mine. If he wins you will swear allegiance to me, the rightful King of Qaiviel. Not some imposter that took the throne through murder.”

Anton tapped Marcus’s shoulder. “Is that a tradition in Qaiviel?”

“There are…Precedents.” Marcus smiled faintly. “The first King of Qaiviel gained the allegiance of several rouge Lords and Barons by fighting them in personal combat. Then he went on to slay a Manticore by himself…Other Kings and lesser Lords have done that but it hasn’t happened in a long time. Looks like Henri knows a thing or two about history. We should just go along with this, it’ll make this official. Just bare with it.”

“Very well.” Henri nodded. “Save the bloodshed for another day. Who do you suggest to fight? No one with magic, mind you.” Henri glanced at Anton. “That would be cheating.”

“I nominate Bernard to fight in my stead.” The Black Rider Knight looked indifferent to his choosing.

“I nominate…I don’t know.” Henri looked back to the patient and silently waiting walls of Royal Army soldiers. He sighed and turned to the nearest soldier. “Where’s that idiotic nephew of mine?”

“At the rear of the army.” The soldier gruffly replied. “At least he was when we stopped.”

“Yes. He will do.” Henri smiled. “You remember Colin?”

Leo smiled. “I do. Stumpy little boy. If I remember his mother forced you to have him join the Royal Army.”

“And he’s been a little shit since then.” Henri laughed. “Keeps harassing the women. And the horses.”

I hope…I honestly pray…

Henri waved his hand to one of his soldiers. “Bring him here then. And let’s get this thing over with.”

Both stood up and shook each other’s hand. This was hardly a defection, rather a culmination of something long in the making. Was this Alfred’s work or perhaps Bernard’s? He operated far closer to the capital than Marcus or Alfred and certainly appeared to be trustworthy. A wink from Henri to Bernard all but confirmed his suspicions.

“Looks like we don’t really need to be here either.” Anton mused to Verona. “Maybe we could get back to what we had originally planned.”

“The…Dwarves?” Verona whispered into his ear. “Wilford’s still a few days off, isn’t he?”

“Indeed. We could use good builders. Then there’s the whole mess with Mount Aspire.”

Leo looked towards the rows of Royal Army soldiers. A lightly armoured scout ran through their numbers, the horse clearly struggling underneath the strain.

“That was too quick, wasn’t it?” Leo mused.

“For a moment I thought that he had been lashed to the back of his horse.” Henri chuckled. “No such luck it seems.”

The rider stopped only at the last second, the soldiers readied themselves to block an accidental charge.

“Commander Henri. A large Church force is approaching from the west. They’ll be on us in just a few moments.”

Leo looked at Henri with a flat expression. Anton saw the anger bubbling through his neck, for this to be a trap…

“We left in the dead of night,” Henri grumbled. “Not a torch to light our way. They shouldn’t be here until sometime this afternoon. Someone must have spotted us.” Henri turned to the rider. “How many?”

“Three times our force at least.” The rider spoked through short and laboured breaths. “It seems they’re bringing everyone they could muster. Though they’re poorly armed and equipped. Basically militia grade.”

Henri shook his head. “Using the people as fodder…”

Looks like King Lambert did a good job with his Kingdom. The usurpers don’t have that much support away from the Church. And even that’s limited, especially when you start conscripting every available man and boy into the army. Who’s going to harvest the fields? Keep the Kingdom working? Or does that not factor into their thinking.

“Commander Henri, they also have those strange creatures with them at the front. I counted at least five hundred.”

“Five hundred Stitch Soldiers?” Marcus asked. “There were only a few dozen when we fled the capital.”

“Obviously they’ve been continuing to create them,” Anton said. “We ran into some to the south-west of Maxill. Only a few but they were there.”

“People have started going missing in the capital.” Henri stroked his grey beard. “More so than usual.”

“Can we take them?” Leo asked Bernard and Marcus.

“We can.” Marcus looked at Henri. “But only one at a time.”

“Fantastic,” Leo grumbled.

---[]---

“You should have informed us that you were leaving the capital.” The Priest spoke heavily out of breath, his plump face red and wet with sweat. “King Harold has been ordering you for days and you’ve done nothing. Together our forces could have crushed the enemy and now…Now I find you cavorting with…”

“Bishop Moïse. King Leo has just challenged me to a contest of champions.” Henri smiled. “And I cannot back down. No one shall fight until the contest is complete, and that includes you attacking Leo. Do you wish me to besmirch my honour and strike my opponent in such a cowardly manner?”

Bishop Moïse’s eyes twitched. Henri intention was clearly to try and make Moïse snap and strike him or do something to besmirch his honour. That would give him all the excuse he needed to formally change sides, especially when honour was such an important part of his being. Allegedly. He could just be stirring.

“And he is right in front of you,” Moïse muttered.

Anton was certain he was speaking about Leo, but it might have included him.

“Cardinal Abeau and King Harold will not be pleased to hear this.”

“I serve King Harold. Not your Cardinal.” Henri spoke very softly. “Remember that.”

Moïse grumbled. “We shall see what the King has to say when we return with Leo in chains. So, who is your champion?”

He hasn’t asked what the contest was about. Is it just so obvious what he would do? Perhaps he thinks to the winner will take the other as a prisoner, or at least have Henri stand down.

Though Moïse was clearly agitated by Henri the other’s he brought were not. They had not spoken a word or even moved once they’d dismounted. Henri’s soldiers kept them well away and didn’t let them out of their sights. Anton’s tail tingled ever so slightly, not building up more of the charge but Anton didn’t need that to tell what these soldiers were.

“My nephew.”

Henri pointed behind the Royal Army soldiers. A short man struggled to equip a suit of armour clearly too large. His arms shook violently as he glanced up at Bernard.

“Against who?”

“Bernard,” Leo said flatly. “Commander of the Black Riders.”

Moïse’s brow twitched. “That’s not a fair fight! Though I would expect nothing less from a traitor and apostate.”

Leo was unmoved by his words. Anton doubted he held much faith in their religion any more.

“Your nephew is clearly not worthy to fight against a Commander of a Knight Order.” Moïse’s dismissively waved his pudgy hand. “Or do you have so little honour that you are sending your nephew to his death.”

“The agreement has already been made,” Henri said adamantly.

“Ridiculous. I wish to put forward my own Champion.”

“Out of the question,” Leo said, dismissing Moïse’s words with a simple swish of his hand.

“Then it will be war.” Upon Moïse raising his hand the covered white soldiers readied to draw their blades. Anton saw a tiny patch of skin, where a piece of cloth and armour had separated. Though it didn’t glow purple a piece of the black stitches poke through, quickly covered by a shake of its wrist.

“Who is your champion then?” Henri asked.

“Our strongest warrior.” Moïse puffed out his chest. “A warrior who has received the touch of the Holy Father himself. Someone who could easily strike down anyone that opposes him.”

“That’s easy with magic,” Marcus said softly.

Moïse regarded the Blue Firestorm emblem with utter contempt. “You can check with your mages, I’m sure you have one or two, but he cannot use magic in any capacity. I am willing to stake my life upon it.”

“Is he here?” Henri asked. “I won’t be waiting for days for this mysterious champion...”

“He is.” Moïse snapped his finger at the shortest soldier present. He stepped forward, robotic in his movements, to stand next to Moïse.

Moïse placed his hands on his shoulders. “This warrior will defeat your champion.” A devious smiled crept over Moïse’s stretched face. “And then, King Leo, you will come back with us. To grovel before the true king.”

Moïse removed the hood covering his helmet, then lifted up the helm. Bernard stepped back, drawing his sword while Marcus looked horrified.

“What have you done to him now?” Marcus whispered.

What lay before them was a Stitch Soldier, but not one that Anton recognised. He had their defining facial features but this was far worse. The cheeks had been removed completely almost down to the bone, a thin gossamer purple skin covered the remaining scraps of flesh that pulsed with his slow heartbeat. Six deep scars ran from what remained of his eyes along his skull. These deep scars pulsed purple but also appeared to be weeping a faint purple liquid despite being bound tight. But it was his eyes that disturbed Anton the most.

There were no eyes. Not anymore.

The sunken remains had become riddled with the worm-like protrusions from the severed limbs that swirled around the iris. As the Stitch soldier’s eyes scanned those before him the worms constricted in a spiral, simulating the constriction of an iris. It was enough to almost make Anton sick. Those beside him were not doing much better. A hand grasped his tight. Verona, utterly stunned, grabbed his in a fit of fear, and she didn’t look like she was willing to let go.

“What have you done to Caiden?” Marcus asked.

“Who?” Anton asked. “You know…”

“Governor Eilis’s son.” Marcus could barely take his eyes off the monstrosity. “Of Nonbur’n. He was spared from the noose but…He returned as one of those…Things.”

Bernard regarded Caiden with a silent annoyance, of an undefeated foe returning once more.

“Caiden, his name before his ascension, has been improved with every blessing we could muster.” Moïse smiled at Caiden, utterly unconcerned with his horrific transformation. “Though you may mock his body he may soon even be able to become one of his angels. But, in the meantime, he is more than strong enough to kill your feeble champion.”

Henri grunted, drawing his blade and planting the tip in the ground. “Looks nothing like what I’ve seen in the churches and cathedrals. I’m sure if they knew what you wanted from them they’d run screaming. Especially...”

Moïse shrugged. “So will you fight our champion?”

“Our champion?” Henri raised a bushy white brow.

“Indeed. We both serve King Harold, yes?” Moïse waved towards Leo. “And though he may be a pretender King he still claims to be a King. Surely we should treat him as such?”

Leo looked at Bernard.

“I can win, your highness.” Bernard readied his longsword. “I beat him before, and I’ll do it again.”

“I think you’ll find him considerably stronger than last time.” Moïse chuckled. “But we accept. If you win we will return to the capital. If we win you, King Leo, will come with us and the rest return to their homes. Does that sound acceptable?”

He’s not completely stupid then. But if Bernard lost then it’s all over, especially us. I don’t think Leo or Henri have any desire to actually follow through with this plan.

Anton scanned the Church armies.

If it weren’t for those Stitch Soldiers we could probably take them just on our own. Who knows how many have been upgraded like Caiden.

Leo gave a curt nod. Moïse smirked, thinking he had won and motioned towards Henri’s nephew, now fully equipped. Henri waved him away.

“There is as good a spot as any,” Henri said.

“Indeed.” Moïse smiled. “Let this place forever be known as the site where the heretical king fell.”

Leo didn’t rise to the obvious and blunt provocation and kept his face flat. Moïse knew it probably wouldn’t work and began walking towards the centre of the two armies, his Stitch Soldiers in tow.

Verona relinquished her hold on his hand. “Crazy bastards. Promise me you’ll never do something like that to your people.”

“Never.” Anton kissed her forehead. “But I don’t know if Bernard can win against them. I’ve seen how strong the normal Stitch Soldiers are.”

“He is strong,” Marcus said softly. “Bernard struggled against him before. Before this…Imagine what he’s going to be like now.”

“Where do you think I should strike first?” Anton asked, making sure the Church and Royal army were well out of earshot.

“Rescue Bernard first, if you can. Then target the Stitch soldiers and their main force. Those giant pillars, right into the heart of their forces.”

“They have some sort of magical immunity.” Anton nodded to Caiden. “It’s only on them, but I’ll do my best.”

“Just a few moments later and none of this would have needed to happen.” Marcus shook his head. “Keep an eye on the main force too, just in case they try something.”

Anton nodded up. “My Lightning Crows are circling above us. They’ll take out anything that looks like a threat.”

“Good. Keep Leo safe, no matter what. That includes me and everyone else here.”

Marcus patted his shoulder and followed Leo. Anton motioned for Verona to follow as they moved to the rear of Leo’s entourage. Behind them, on Poisier’s walls, Leo’s forces gathered to watch the spectacle. Anton knew that Castor would all but certainly be preparing the Knights to charge out if true combat descended. The gate remained open but the Knights were out of sight, hopefully hiding just behind the wall.

A Principle Mage from Leo’s sidestepped before Bernard and waved a strange device around him. Satisfied he turned to the monstrosity that was Caiden. The mage could barely contain his stomach as he neared him. Caiden remained completely motionless as the Principle Mage performed his duties.

“I cannot detect any magic.” The Principle Mage quickly backed away. “Absolutely nothing.”

“It is not magic, as you know it, rather a blessing from The Holy Father.” Moïse smiled. “It is beyond such things as Principle or Glyphs magic.”

Like my tail…

Bernard drew his sword and readied himself. He didn’t have a shield, wielding such a large sword and trying to hold a shield, let alone effectively use, would have almost certainly been a death sentence. Moïse ordered Caiden to ready himself for combat and he obeyed. Caiden drew a short iron sword and a small shield, mimicking Bernard’s stance.

“Ready?” Henri asked, a slight tremor to his voice.

Bernard and Caiden returned a silent nod, neither were much for speaking.

Henri took a deep breath. “Begin.”

Immediately Bernard ran at Caiden, his sword held close to his body to thrust at Caiden. Caiden raised his shield and ran, both traversing the ground unbelievably quickly. Bernard’s sword tore through Caiden’s iron shield and dug deep into his arm. Caiden’s eyes contracted and glanced down to the sword. He dropped his own and gripped Bernard’s, the few muscles on his arm bulged at the metal sword began to groan. Bernard released his grip, Caiden began to fall forward underneath the newfound weight and drew another blade. He drove this straight into Caiden’s chest, with predictably little result. Caiden grabbed Bernard’s hand, still gripping the blade in an attempt to twist and expand the wound, and crushed down. Bernard shouted in pain and managed to rip himself free. As Caiden pulled the sword free Bernard barred his teeth at his metal gauntlet, it had completely crumpled tight around his hand. He couldn’t move his fingers, if they weren’t already broken.

Bernard wasn’t willing to wait for Caiden to attack. He lunged at him again and collided with Caiden. Caiden’s legs dug into the ground, the grass flying away but Caiden didn’t budge. Caiden’s eyes focused on Bernard as he gripped onto his arms and lifted the giant man into the air. Bernard’s face was drenched with fear as his heavy metal boots came free.

“How…” Bernard grunted and kicked Caiden’s chest.

Caiden’s fingers gripped into Bernard’s armour, crumpling lines into the black metal. Caiden let Bernard go but lunged at him in return, a fist smashing straight into Bernard’s chest. The giant man doubled over, blood seeping from his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

Bernard rose to his feet and began to circle around Caiden. Caiden continued to approach Bernard, unable to understand why his opponent was just walking away. Anton spied Moïse’s face contorted in annoyance, biting hard onto his fingers as his eyes trailed the emotionless Caiden.

Bernard managed to recover his sword, Caiden’s shield still embedded on the shaft and swung again. Caiden dodged the strike, dropping to just avoid the strike, grabbing his own downed sword and thrust it into Bernard’s leg. The iron bent and buckled upon Bernard’s armour but drove through. However, it was exactly what Bernard wanted, to a degree; now Caiden was committed to his attack and couldn’t retreat. Bernard stopped the swing and drove the sword hard into Caiden’s side. The sword ripped through Caiden’s armour and deep into his flesh. Caiden tried to back away but Bernard ripped his sword free and hacked again into Caiden’s side. A thousand purple fleshy worms flailed frantically and began to pull the knitted wound tight.

Caiden stood up as his wounds re-knit themselves, this time around the blade. Bernard clicked his head as Caiden ripped the sword free from his leg, a great spurt of blood covered the sword and he drove it back into his leg. Bernard spun on his wounded leg, ignoring the pain and sliced deep into Caiden’s chest, splitting Caiden nearly in two. Caiden flailed wildly with his arms, the force was so great that it began to rip his body apart faster than he could heal. Bernard swung again and cut him in two.

Caiden stumbled apart before lying broken before Bernard. He dragged his longsword with his crippled left hand and lifted it up. Caiden snarled at Bernard, the first sign of real emotion, a mottled tongue jutting out from his glowing purple teeth. Was there something left inside?

“Sorry kid,” Bernard mumbled. “But I’m ready this time.”

Caiden’s wounds were quickly healing themselves, his arms and torso were almost reattached, but it wasn’t enough. With a final screech Caiden tried to dodge the sword thrust into his skull but simply could not. The tip pierced through his skull. Somehow it wasn’t enough to kill him, Caiden thrashed about and kicked at Bernard’s legs. Bernard’s body twisted away, allowing the force of the impact to travel through his body rather than resist it, and spun out to one side. Caiden tried to stand but Bernard kept hold of the sword. With a final exertion, he drove the sword into the ground, gripped the sword hard and twisted, smashing apart his skull.

“How is he not dead yet?” Verona whispered to Anton.

Caiden still clung to life, thousands of worms frantically writhed from his open wound towards the sky. Some found one another and began to knit the wound close. An emotion graced Caiden’s face for the first time, a smirk. If that was possible. He was fine while Bernard was almost finished. Anton understood the true strength of these creatures; their sheer resilience.

“I have never failed the King until you monsters arrived.” Bernard forced himself to his feet. “And I will have my revenge.”

Bernard lifted his sword with what little remained of his strength and swung it down towards Caiden’s neck. The sword cleaved through his neck, embedding itself deep into the dry dirt. Bernard stumbled forward and kicked the head away. Dozens of worm protrusions had already formed to re-knit the wound close.

Caiden’s head, finally, lay lifeless and still some meters away. The worms frantic spasming slowly began to fade until they turned as lifeless as the rest of Caiden. Anton felt a surge force its way up his tail. With just one kill a fifth of his tail tingled. Verona noticed and held his side. Anton patted her hand to reassure her, everyone else was too distracted to pay much attention.

“Bernard wins!” Henri almost had a smile on his face.

A pair of Black Rider Knights rushed forward to retrieve their broken commander. He begrudgingly accepted their help. One pointed at Anton as they dragged him across the trampled grass.

“Such a pity.” Moïse held no such reservations in showing his delight. “He was one, true, and a strong one at that but there are more. Many more. Ones that have training…As per our agreement, we shall return to the capital without further hostilities. Henri, that means you too.”

“I made no such agreement.” Henri smiled.

Bernard was dropped in front of Anton. Anton knelt down and quickly chanted a healing prayer.

Moïse frowned. “Yes, you did. You said-”

“You didn’t check what I said. I said that if Bernard won against my champion I would join his forces.” Henri nodded to Caiden’s corpse. “And if that’s anything to go by I made the right choice.”

“When King Harold-“

“It matters not.” Henri waved his soldiers forward. “I have made my choice, if only he could have removed my nephew as well.”

“Your family-”

Henri raised his metal gauntlet to the Bishop. “Don’t. You ever threaten…What’s that noise?”

A squelching, cracking noise emenated from Caiden’s corpse. The purple hue leaking from his wounds, once all but faded away burst back into life, shining far more brilliantly light than ever before. The worm protrusions began to writhe and sought out the head, growing several meters from both ends.

“Overflow…” Dread and uncontrolled panic drenched Moïse’s face. His first concern was for the Stitch Soldiers around him. They appeared mostly unaffected, though their rigid stance had softened.

“Time to go!” Moïse yelled to the Church forces. “Retreat! Order a full retreat. Retreat to Clausonne with all speed. Now!”

A loud trumpet cut through the changing air as Moïse ran as fast as he could, the Stitch Soldiers in quick pursuit.

“Guess this is up to me now,” Anton said.

Caiden’s corpse lunged upward, the head dragging helplessly along the grass as the worms retracted it back to his neck. His muscles began to swell, the purple wounds erupted in more strange worms, now covered in pink crystal cysts tearing deep within.

Anton threw a Fire Lance at Caiden’s chest. The fire exploded but Anton felt the tell-tale signs that his magic had been reduced.

“Almost half.” Anton clicked his tongue. “This isn’t good.”

“Principle Mages!” Marcus yelled. “Attack with everything you have!”

As the brightly robed mages began their attacks, chanting while holding their hand over their staffs and charms, Marcus grabbed a horn blower tightly by the shoulder. Castor, obviously not understanding the situation, alongside most present, charged forth with their entire Knight Order forces in tow.

Anton wasn’t going to wait as the monstrosity only continued to grow. Moïse and his forces were making good on their promise to retreat, or were simply content to leave behind whatever magical abomination they had created. He threw more fire lances and ordered the Lightning Crows to attack from the sky. Thankfully lightning was accurate from all distances. A barrage of magic struck Caiden as his head snapped back onto his body. When the dust and smoke cleared Caiden was still standing but had taken some damage, though the worms were quickly restoring the damage. Caiden dropped to one knee and grunted loudly.

Marcus grabbed Leo and began dragging him away, ordering the remaining Knights and soldiers to cover the retreat. The Principle Mages unleashed another volley of magic but it had little effect this time. Caiden crouched into a ball and simply took the hits, even though chunks of flesh were being destroyed and torn apart.

“Not good.” Anton murmured, not that anyone needed such confirmation.

He threw another Fire Lance, thankfully the allied Principle Mages didn’t care about his Glyph magic, and a small volley of lightning bolts. Caiden pulled himself up, the worms from the wounds had tried to knit themselves and his limbs together. Those ripped free and began to flail wildly.

“All archers!” Henri bellowed over the explosions, now within the relative safety of the Royal Army. “Fire at the beast. Bring it down.”

Heavy bolts and arrows pierced Caiden’s fleshy, and disturbingly still growing hide, but did little other than annoy him. Caiden smashed the pieces of wood off his back with a wave of his hand. He turned his head, unaffected by the growth, the overflow, towards Henri and The Royal army. His jaw cracked and groaned as his mottled tongue licked at the air.

“Gr-Grekka.” Caiden snarled.

What?

The Principle Mages glanced at one another mid-chant. A smaller volley of magic struck his hide. Caiden angrily waved them away, like a child swatting at flies.

“Grekka!”

Caiden’s hand clawed deep into the flesh on his arm, hundreds of small worms erupted from the wound to claw at his fingers, and ripped free a hunk of flesh easily the size of a head. A bright purple hue covered the flesh as it constricted and healed itself, turning into something akin to a purple boil. He tossed it towards the Principle Mages before running towards the Royal Army, still peppering him with bolts and arrows.

Anton threw a fireball at the hunk of flesh, successfully striking it but unable to destroy it. Its intended target stopped his chant and furiously began chanting another spell. A wall of blue magic caught the ball of flesh mid-air. It writhed and twisted, the worms began to grow over the shield but couldn’t reach its target. At least that’s what the mage thought.

The flesh boil erupted a single worm protrusion, striking a nearby Mage in the chest. He screamed in his death throes as bones snapped and reformed, his exposed skin began to take on the same purple hue as Caiden. He gripped his staff tight, tight enough to break his hand, and began chanting something in a truly alien tongue.

Anton threw a Fire Lance at the corrupted Principle Mage’s head and another at the flesh boil. The corrupted mages head exploded and the boil exploded too. With a final twitch, the man fell down dead. The other Principle Mages quickly unleashed their magic again upon the body of their fallen comrade, burning what remained to ash.

“He’s doing it again.” Verona’s body glowed bright as she coiled the liquefied blood around her hands.

Another barrage of Lightning struck Caiden, now only a few meters away from the panicking Royal army, from above but he simply ignored the damage and pain. He clawed into his other arm and began to rip another boil free. The other arm had completely healed and was ripe for another. A brave soldier ran forward, a blue Chelium tipped halberd in his hands, and drove it into Caiden’s chest. Caiden stopped clawing at his arm. The soldier pushed the halberd deeper but it had no effect. Caiden grabbed the Halberd and drove it deeper, so he could reach the soldier and snapped him up in one hand. The soldier desperately pounded at his hand but to no avail. Caiden grunted lightly and crushed the soldier until his head popped off before dropping him lifelessly to the ground. The metal armour had buckled Caiden’s monstrous strength; the soldier’s body was now only a few inches thick and leaked only a little blood onto the ground, most remained on Caiden’s hand. The Royal Army soldiers began to back away from Caiden’s slow but unstoppable charge.

“Charge!” Castor yelled, wielding a long lance. “Strike down that monster in the name of King Leo.”

The Knights cheered and stepped up their pace, a small group peeled away to ensure Leo’s safety who was still retreating on foot alongside Marcus and several Knights.

Anton unleashed another barrage of fire and lightning magic, but Caiden’s regenerative abilities were too great and he was too close to the Royal army to use the fire rings without obliterating almost all of their supporting forces. Verona threw her shards at Caiden’s back. Each dug deep into his hid, cutting free pieces of flesh, one nearly severing his arm but the regeneration was just too quick. Verona squeaked in surprise as the regeneration completely consumed a blood shard. Verona tried to regain control, to send it through his body and rip him apart from the inside but it was hopeless; the red blood simply squirted out, under pressure, from within his body.

Caiden swung with his fist, pummelling soldiers and weapons deep into the ground. Those that resisted his swipes were broken or reduced to a mangled mess of metal and flesh. The soldiers attacked with everything they had but simply couldn’t land a lethal blow, not even stabbing his head had any effect. Verona tried her best to soften the blow but Caiden’s strikes were more than enough to break her shards. More worryingly each attack reduced the control over her magic, the blood began to liquefy and move slower, Verona bristled with annoyance.

“Verona.” Anton created the sphere of black lightning, taking half of his charge. “I need you to protect me.”

“Are you going to throw it?” Verona asked, using her blood to direct Caiden’s strike into the ground. “Can you throw it that far?”

“Not accurately…So I’ll need to get a lot closer.” Anton forced the black lightning in a spear. “And I don’t want to give this to anyone, just in case it makes the situation worse.”

Anton gripped the spear tight and began to run across the open ground towards Caiden. Anton wished that he had a horse, or even a baby Chirok to ride. Every second was torture, watching Caiden tear through the Royal Army like a child playing with leaves. Halfway, with Verona by his side, Castor and the Knights reached Caiden. They ploughed lance after lance into his swollen worm-riddled hide as they continued to ride past. Again it served nothing but to annoy Caiden. He swung a fist back, striking a Knight’s horse in the head and sending it careening into another four screaming horses.

“Peel off!” Castor yelled. The Knights obeyed, though a few attempted a final lance attack.

“Hey!” Anton yelled.

Caiden ignored him. Once he attacked with a barrage of Fire and Lightning Lances Caiden directed his attention to Anton. The soldier’s behind attempted one last attack, dodging the lances swinging over their heads, and retreated with their wounded and dead.

Anton wasn’t confident or brave enough to charge into Caiden’s chest in a mad, suicidal charge. Caiden raised his fists to strike Anton into the dirt but Verona directed her blood shards into his face. His worm-riddled eyes focused on the crystallised blood just before they struck his face. It wasn’t a lethal blow but enough to unsteady Caiden. Anton grit his teeth and threw the spear with everything he had. The Marble spear struck and dug into Caiden’s chest, disintegrating into tiny white cubes and falling away. Caiden’s skin began to turn white, just like the Goblins and Ghlotsm. Unlike those Anton felt rebellion through the thought tether. It fought against him even as something tried to consume Caiden, his thoughts of rebellion were slowly fading away, being eaten away by a black lightning.

“You did it.” Someone said, someone from the Royal Army.

The tether screamed in pain. Caiden dug his hand into his chest and ripped the spear tip free from his body, throwing it as far away as he could. The small lump continued to transform and turn white but unlike the fleshy boils this piece quickly died and fell limp. He felt nothing from the fragment.

Whatever the transformation had done to Caiden it had weakened him considerably. He staggered while holding one hand over his chest. The worms struggled to restore the wound, the Marble Spear’s infection had taken something more from him than just a hunk of flesh.

Verona threw more shards into Caiden, if nothing more than to immobilise as Anton created another Marble Spear. The wound didn’t reveal anything that looked like a weakness but Anton wanted to try again. The soldiers released another barrage of arrows into Caiden’s back as Anton completed his next Marble Spear. This was far longer than before, the blade wider while taking every ounce of charge in his tail. Caiden’s worm-riddled eyes snapped towards him, though his mind was consumed he understood a threat. He didn’t run but instead charged at Anton, intent on wiping him out in one hit.

Again Verona threw up blood shards to stop him, erupting from the ground to embed deep into his chest. Caiden stopped for a few brief seconds to swat them away, the wounds quickly healed but left his body exposed. Anton swung the long spear, the impossibly sharp edge cleanly cutting through Caiden’s head. The body shuddered as the white marks began to grow from every cut, quickly covering his face. Again Anton felt something through the tether, this time it was a panicked rage rather than simple anger.

“Get back!” Anton yelled.

The Royal Army obeyed as Caiden struggled with the corruption overcoming his face.

“Time for you to go.” Anton created a small but powerful fire ring underneath Caiden.

Anton’s Lightning Crows harassed the struggling creature even as he ripped out huge pieces of his corrupted flesh from his skull. Even the bone had begun to transform as the grass began to twist and smoulder before a column of flame consumed Caiden. When then flames receded Caiden remained, alive but his charred husk struggled to move. The worms pushed their way through his charred flesh with far less enthusiasm than before. Anton created another fire ring, then another and another. After five the ground was almost molten and yet Caiden struggled up. The charred skull looked up at Anton, nothing but sunken charred pits looked back at him. A bony, charred arm pointed towards Anton. Anton threw a large Octahedron Lightning bomb at his head. Caiden disintegrated in a flash of lightning.

“Fuck.” Anton doubled over as his tail stung with a new charge. Almost every part of his tail tingled, perhaps a few scales just at the base weren’t glowing.

A silence filled the air. No one was willing to speak a word, to break the illusion that the monster was finally gone. Verona tapped Anton’s side, he returned it to let her know he was fine.

“Is it dead?” Someone asked as Verona tried her best to lift him up.

“Should be.” Anton coughed. “Should be.”

Henri pushed his way through the soldiers to the front. He looked at the molten crater, holding his hand in front of his face to deflect the heat.

“Thank you.” Henri bowed. “I don’t know if we would have been able to defeat that…Thing.”

“It’s alright.” Anton pulled himself up but kept Verona’s support. “I trust that you’ll be joining King Leo now.” Anton summoned a small fireball. “I still have some magic in me.”

“We will.” Henri’s eyes snapped to Castor, leading a group of Knights towards them. He, like everyone else, had not said a word about Verona or her power. He was keeping an eye on her but he didn’t look ready to object to her presence. To keep the peace she might need to return to The Shadow Isles soon.

“Are you alright?” Castor asked. “We’ll take you back to Poisier for treatment, Grand Mage Anton.”

“Not if you’re going to sling me over the back of your horse.” Anton smiled. “Like a dead animal. I…I don’t know if I can ride properly right now.”

“Let’s just head back for now.” Verona patted his chest. “You can rest for a little bit, regain your strength.”

Anton silently agreed and allowed Verona to carry him back.

Chapter 144 - Vol 4 - Silver

Chapter 144:

Verona, after the battle against the Stitch Soldier monstrosity, returned to The Shadow Isles and swapped with Cetina. She didn’t believe the stories but after seeing Anton her thoughts instantly changed. There was still much work to be done in these dark, mist covered lands. Too much work.

Verona, her eyes straining lightly to see in the afternoon darkness of The Shadow Isles, directed a blood shard upwards before shattering the red crystal, throwing them down into the horde of Goblins below. Though all were instantly killed by the shards, their blood only adding to the swirling swarms underneath Verona’s control, there was always another horde to replace them. Again and again Verona ran along The Shadow Isle’s front line, on top her Jaguar Mount, destroying points of resistance. The addition of the Mainland forces had been…less than what they first thought. Verona stopped for a moment to catch her breath to see the Mainland Clans in full retreat. They had over-extended themselves and had been caught in a trap.

“Overconfidence is a terrible thing,” Salvira said. “That’s what Vonkal taught me.”

“Well, they’re definitely full of it.” Verona mused.

She threw a shard over the Goblins chasing the retreating Mainland forces. Island forces forced the retreating forces back and reformed the line. It took more than a few moments, a few clobbered heads before the line was filled. A hailstorm of arrows blunted the Goblin’s assault and drove them back.

With this small section of the front-line secured Verona turned her Jaguar mount and looked to the command tents, situated high on a small hill overlooking the frontlines. With the massive injection of forces the Dark Elves had pushed the Goblins back and reduced their captured territory by almost half, already they were nearing one of the infested islands. However, things weren’t going so well across the front. The Goblins, Verona presumed under the command of the deformed Red Goblin, had bolstered their defences and were no longer engaging in simple swarm attacks, as Anton called them. Traps, ambushes and layered defences now covered nearly every inch of ground they needed to take. Whenever an opportunity for the Goblins to break through they took it, trying to force their numbers through breaks. Verona had plugged many but it was starting to grate on her mind.

“While we pushed forward the Goblins were busy making this slaughterhouse,” Verona said.

“We’re doing well.” Salvira smiled. “We started back there this morning.”

Salvira pointed to a large cluster of upright stones, where once a Dark Elf city lay. Now it was nothing more than a den of horrors. The Goblins were reinforcing their numbers from that position as well.

“Two hundred isn’t too bad, I suppose. Better than none.” Verona whipped her reins. “But it’s time to go back. I need some rest. The sun…I’ll be glad when I can see properly again.”

“We still have some time today,” Salvira said. “About another two or three hours. And the line has stabilised.”

Verona sighed. “For now at least. It won’t be long before the Mainlanders push forward again and need rescuing. I’m going to find Kal, see how she’s doing.”

Verona turned her Jaguar away from the front line. Salvira quickly followed, not wanting to be anywhere near the fighting.

“I’ve overheard a lot of the warriors say very good things about her.” Salvira smiled. “She’s saved many their lives, and of their friends.”

“She does that. No one has tried anything silly, have they?”

“Not with four armed Dwarves nearby.” Salvira chuckled. “Or you…Or Cetina, the Bebbezzarian woman.”

“No.” Verona laughed. “I don’t think they would.”

They rode towards the command tent, passing stretchers of wounded Dark Elves and fresh groups heading to the front lines, bearers carrying arrows and equipment that was rapidly being spent to push the Goblins back. The Dark Elf guards didn’t bat an eye as they moved through. There was no one that could impersonate Verona, and especially Kal.

The moment Verona’s boots touched the ground a tremendous shouting erupted from within the command tent. The guards rushed in but quickly backed out, one with ink streaking down his armour and an empty bottle rolling at his feet.

“That’s not Gerin, I hope,” Verona said.

“No, my Lady.” The guard sighed and shrugged at the ink. There was virtually nothing he could do now apart from bear through it.

They opened the flap. Gerin stood inside, with his daughter, Vonkal and several other Island Clan Leaders. Opposite them stood another group, Mainlanders. The difference was stark and immediate; the Island Clan’s wore rougher but more durable armour, the Mainland’s more flamboyant and far less durable. Verona had witnessed this deficiency first hand.

“This is ridiculous!” A Mainland Clan leader glanced at Verona and Salvira, his face furrowed deeply upon seeing a human. “We are losing so many warriors while following your orders to push forward.”

Gerin folded his arms, stepping to one side to reveal the map. Thankfully they were making large gains, at least up until very recently.

“Your warriors are not as strong as you boast. Nor do they listen to our warriors or commanders. I myself have witnessed them falling into an obvious trap and their subsequent rescue. Which put many of our warriors at risk. You’ve had it extremely easy up until now, hiding in the safety of your cities while we fought and died.” Gerin glanced at Verona. “It’s clear why the Mist Walker Elders put me in command. If you follow our orders, and listen to the advice of our warriors, you will survive this.”

“I still don’t see why the Elders put you, of all people, in charge.”

“Because they knew I had what it takes.” Gerin smiled.

The Mainland leader scoffed and dramatically waved his arm and turned to leave. Verona stepped to the side as she received a sneer.

Whatever.

Everyone waited until they were long clear. Salvira poked her head out and sighed. “They’re gone.”

“What a mess this all turned out to be.” Vonkal laughed. Verona still didn’t like how forceful it was. “But now they have no choice but to listen to you. They wouldn’t dare go against their precious Elders. How did you manage to convince them, anyway?”

Gerin patted his shoulder. “What matters most is that they do. So we don’t have to do all the work.”

Probably still not happy that Anton kidnapped them.

“Indeed…Indeed.” Vonkal clapped his hands and pointed them to Verona. “Thank you for rescuing the Green Moon Clan, by the way. I thought everyone was dead. We all did, doubly so since they allowed this whole thing to occur.”

“It was merely a guess they were there.” Verona ignored his jab at the Green Moon. “The fact that anyone survived is just…”

Gerin violently rubbed his face, his smooth brown skin turned red from the stress. Ceccitol gently lowered his hand and smiled at his father.

“If only your vision had made things simple.” Gerin sighed. “They could just come through and win things with but a wave of their hands.”

“If you’d let Anton burn the forests it wouldn’t have been a problem.” Verona shrugged. “But prophecies never work out the way you expect.”

So I’m told.

“Indeed.” Gerin turned to the map. “We’ve located another large Goblin Encampment to the north. Here. It’s the largest we’ve seen and appears to be capable of reinforcing every position within several miles with thousands of the little bastards. We can’t push forward with this encampment still in one piece.”

Along the dividing line of the map a bulge emerged, pushing through their lines. It wasn’t that the Goblins had counter-attacked, simply that they resisted far more fiercely than anywhere else.

“And I don’t want to make this bulge any larger.”

“A large strike force into the heart?” Verona asked. “I don’t think Anton’s going to be here for this. He’s…um…A little tied up in Qaiviel. They’ve just had a big fight and I don’t know if he’s ready yet.”

“I’d like to get it done by nightfall.” Gerin nodded slowly. “They haven’t been attacking in force at night, but I get the feeling they will tonight. Once we’ve destroyed the encampment we can continue to push towards the coast with impunity, you can then focus your attention on Qaiviel.”

“And how do you do that anyway?” Vonkal asked.

“That’s our secret.” Verona folded her arms. “And don’t even think about asking Kal or the Dwarves either.”

“Who? Oh, the Beast-kin. She’s saved a lot of our warriors.”

Don’t get any funny ideas about ‘rewards’.

“Can you do this?” Gerin asked. “Ceccitol will be leading the attack again, with Island and Mainland forces.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tuccac asked. “The quality of the Mainlanders are…”

“Lacking, I know. But when they are actually directed by Island Clan warriors they fight well enough. They will be the majority of the force but we will be coordinating the attack.”

“We can do that.” Verona nodded. “Just give us some more mana vials and we’ll be on our way.”

---[]---

Verona moved through the burning remains of the Goblin Encampment. Though it was the largest they had found so far, Verona counted at least five thousand Goblins, it didn’t last long once the combined might of the Island and Mainland Clans descended. A continuous stream of black arrows, the relatively inexperienced Mainlanders directed by their Island Clan to target specific Goblins, destroyed their morale in an instant. Verona’s only involvement was the destruction of stubborn clusters. These lasted but a few more moments as Verona’s blood shards ripped them to shreds.

“This was all a little too easy.” Verona mused.

“Easy for you.” Kal chuckled, bringing her mount to a halt next to her. “Imagine if I had to do something like this?”

Verona rubbed her chin. “You’d probably just throw in one of those smoke stones. That’s worked so far.”

“It has…”

Salvira approached from the front. “Is there any possibility that you could have Anton create some more of those bound Lightning Crows? Keep this area safe?”

“It would be easier to just move the ones he’s already made here,” Kal said. “They’re only going to attack Goblins. So it should be fine.”

“Strohierite isn’t cheap.” Verona threw up a silver brow.

Salvira whimpered. “And you lot just throw them around so easily…Where did you get them? I’d pay you a fortune…Where did you find them?”

“That’s a really good question.” Verona chuckled. “When we know, you’ll know.”

“I didn’t think your husband would keep something like that away from you.” Salvira tilted her head. “He didn’t come across as that sort of person.”

Verona laughed but didn’t answer. Was Ferula stealing them from the Emperor of Graterious, or some magical university? A distant mine across the seas? Or below the waves? Ferula hadn’t given them an answer. A good move on her part, so they can’t just discard her help.

A nearby group of Dark Elves began torching the rudimentary Goblin shacks. These were little more than bundles of bent wood held together to simulate a hut. However, more than a few Dark Elf women had been found within. They would need…treatment, before they could be properly helped.

Ceccitol approached from the centre of the Goblin encampment as the huts burned behind her. She looked a little sheepish, and a little worried.

“Was Tuccac hurt?” Kal asked. “I will heal him if he has.”

Ceccitol laughed. “That would be the day. He’d definitely keep it from me though. No, it’s not that. You two know more about the Goblins than we do, correct?”

“Kal knows more than me, but yes.”

“Well…We found this.” Ceccitol pulled out a small piece of paper.

Verona’s heart stopped and her blood ran as cold as ice. Her fingers hesitated to touch the roll of scrap paper, stained with dirt and moisture. Atros had suffered something similar, the time when Verona’s marks grew from her back to cover most of her body. Verona snatched it from Ceccitol’s hand and breathed deep. It wasn’t a map of Atros, Kal exhaled loudly upon seeing it, but it was a map.

“Kobolds could do this,” Verona mumbled to Kal. “Could Goblins?”

Kal shook her head. “I…I have no idea. I’ve never heard of it, but I’ve never heard of them creating a giant pitfall trap in Fort Acidava, the Reds or the Awakened. I don’t know what to expect from them anymore.”

“And they were just one of the five.” Verona inspected the map more closely. “One of five that come to lands devoid of Earth Mana…This map is of The Shadow Isles, clearly.”

“Indeed.” Ceccitol took the map back. “This marker here is for this encampment, where a totem of Fliodher once stood. There are a few other camps that we didn’t know about but this is odd. A marker with what looks like a pick-axe on a stone.”

“What sort of mines do you have here?” Verona asked. “Some iron ore near the surface or something? I don’t think the Goblins are miners.”

Unless a Red organised them…

“I’m not sure.” Ceccitol leant down and hurriedly spoke with a Dark Elf warrior on foot. “Someone in our army is bound to be a local. They’ll know.”

A Mainland Clan warrior quickly arrived, Verona didn’t know and honestly didn’t care what his coloured tassel signified. He spoke with Ceccitol for a few moments before being politely dismissed.

After we’ve dealt with The Shadow Isles and Qaiviel it’s off to the Dwarven Islands and Seocuria. Those should be less violent than this, thankfully. Well, one of them at least.

Verona ran a hand over her stomach.

Better finish this quickly…We won’t be too much help soon. I hope Sam’s is coming along well.

“He lived far to the north from here.” Ceccitol began. “He said it was a small Iron Mine, but it ran out ages ago. What do you think?”

“Balefire was supposed to be a copper mine, not silver and Chelium.” Verona looked at the map again. “How close is it? The map doesn’t really say.”

“Just over that small ridge. We should arrive there in no time. Especially if the remaining Goblins are in retreat.”

“I think we should.” Kal tightened the grip on her reins. “They wanted it, so we need to stop it.”

“Good enough for me.” Ceccitol checked her quiver, disappointed it was already half empty. “Every one of them that dies is good for us.”

“I’ll stay here.” Salvira chuckled nervously. “Ensure that everyone stays together while the front advances.”

Ceccitol quickly rounded up a small strike force and lead them deeper into the forest. There were very few Goblins this far into the forest, at least ones that were standing their ground. Almost all were fleeing north, towards the Green Moon Island.

I wonder how many Goblins Kal killed with her smoke stone? Probably has a higher kill count than Anton now.

They ignored those that weren’t a direct threat and arrived at the mine. Ceccitol directed them to an area overlooking the site, where the enemy wouldn’t notice their presence.

The mine, such as it was, was little more than a small hole in the side of a small rocky hill. However, it crawled with Goblins, an even greater density than the razed encampment. These reminded Verona of the Rock-Rats during their second delving of Mount Aspire. One stream entered the mine while the other emerged covered in dust and soot. Those that were dirty looked extremely tired as well, a great pile of dead Goblins laid to the side. When one collapsed they were simply thrown onto the pile.

“Looks like the work of a Red,” Verona mumbled. “Not that I know what they’re actually capable of.”

“When you have an inexhaustible supply of slave labour why wouldn’t you work them to death?” Kal asked. She winced but understood the implications. Thankfully Beast-kin were not truly limitless nor had Seocuria found a way to tame the Goblins or Ghlotsm. Verona doubted they would remove the Beast-kin if they did. Their uses went beyond physical labour…

Ceccitol furiously waved for them to crouch low. The Jaguars slinked as low as possible while Verona leant over its head. A large tent lay to the side of the exiting stream of Goblins. The flaps were open and Verona could see someone inside. Though they wore dark clothing they were unmistakably human, there was no way to miss the light skin reflecting the dim light. A Goblin approached the human, they leant forward and spoke to the Goblin. It listened, nodded and re-joined the columns.

“Strega Witches?” Kal asked. “They definitely seem like they could do this.”

“I don’t know.” Verona focused her attention into the tent. “But I can see another two, hiding in the back.”

“Why aren’t they being torn apart?” Tuccac asked.

Kal held Verona’s hand and her vision burst into clarity. The human at the front was a man, the hand was clearly that of a man’s, but a small necklace hung from his neck. It was made from teeth, bones and small feathers, perhaps even pieces of skin. Verona looked to the others; at least one was a woman and both had a fetish amulet dangling from their necks.

“Do you think you can hit the amulets from here?” Verona asked.

Kal relinquished her hold, the enhanced vision dissipated. “I can.”

Kal drew a normal black tipped arrow and drew tight. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, guide my arrow straight and true to its target.”

Kal released the silent arrow. The man leant back just as the arrow snipped the fetish amulet, smashing it into a hundred pieces and scattering it across the tent. He lurched up, one hand holding his chest and a faint smear of blood and looked to the other Goblins. Those nearby stopped, unconcerned with the source of the arrow and stared angrily at the man. He made but a single step back before the Goblins descended upon him. They ripped and clawed at his clothes before the other two rushed to his side. With a single wave, the Goblins retreated as they recovered the lightly wounded man, keeping him close.

“Out there!” A woman yelled. “The arrow came from out there! Find them!”

“They shouldn’t be here yet.” The wounded man said.

Verona summoned her shards and destroyed the Goblins within range. Ceccitol ordered the Dark Elves to charge, the horde of Jaguars barely made a sound even as dozens of arrows sunk deep into Goblin flesh. The three robed humans ran into the mine, not before shouting an order to attack. The Goblins charged but were worth nothing more than fodder.

“Let’s get these bastards.” Verona dismounted. “Kal, you can do that truth thing that Anton did. Right?”

“Yes.” Kal drew a Lightning Arrow. “But we don’t know what’s in there...”

Torches illuminated the mine as the narrow pathway led deep into the stone hill, descending around a turn. It was unlikely there were any traps as Goblins were still exiting the cave, unable to add anything significant to the defence before the Dark Elves lazily put them down.

“Don’t even think about going first,” Ceccitol said. She waved some Dark Elf warriors forward. “If you find three humans, capture them. But don’t worry if you have to cripple them to make them behave.”

The warriors quickly descended into the mine, slashing the emerging Goblins with a single swing of the blades. Ceccitol held them back for a few moments before allowing them to enter. Verona kept half of her shards around her and Kal with the other half in front. Ceccitol and Tuccac followed close behind, all three behind Verona had their arrows knocked.

Thousands of dusty footprints covered the roughly hewn stone floor. Ahead they could still hear the sounds of fighting, though it was clearly the Dark Elves that were winning. They finally stumbled into a large cavern where hundreds of rusted pick axes lay strew around. As Verona took her first step into this place a Dark Elf raised his hand. Verona halted and followed his eyes to the floor. A series of straight pathways lined the cavern floor. In between those Verona’s eyes were drawn to a shimmering liquid leaking from beneath the rocks. It looked like silver but yet it didn’t radiant heat like molten metal. As she began to crouch low Kal tapped her shoulder. She pointed to a small cavern where something moved in the darkness. A person.

“There!” Verona shouted.

The Dark Elves snapped to where she pointed. The figures darted deeper into the shadows. Verona gave chase but the Dark Elves barred the way. The cavern only extended for a few feet before turning to the right for another ten or so feet. There was no way out and yet the people had disappeared. Verona pushed the Dark Elves aside and ran her blood shards along the wall. Nothing. It was all solid stone.

“Someone’s got better teleportation than us,” Verona grumbled. “What magic did they use? Would it be light magic? Shadow?”

Verona returned to the main cavern.

“How’d they get away?” Kal asked. She immediately understood Verona’s facial expression.

“No idea.” Verona scratched her head. “No flash of green or white. Or anything really. It could have been black…Ceccitol, Tuccac, know anything like that?”

“No.” Tuccac shook his head. “There might be something, we don’t know much about magic but there certainly could be something. You can move between lands easily. It’s possible there are others.”

“Well, they’re gone now.” Verona kicked at the stone. “Fuck’s sake…There is one group of humans that seemed alright with the Goblins, even…well, feeding one. Really creepy bunch. But we can’t get to them.”

“Who?” Ceccitol asked.

“The Ancient Listeners,” Kal said softly. “A cult we discovered on the way to Graterious. They…lived extremely close to a ravine full of Goblins. This…This might have been them. I honestly don’t know but I don’t know anyone else that could…would do something like this.”

“We didn’t fight them.” Verona continued. “To be honest we just wanted to get out of there.”

“Any idea what this is?” Ceccitol pointed at the liquid silver. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Verona crouched down by the silver metal. She touched it with her blood shards. It felt like a squishy liquid, temperature or sensations were almost impossible to transfer through the shard. She touched it with her gloved finger. Instantly her head screamed with emotions; hatred and anger of unimaginable levels. Verona managed to rip her finger away before her mind was overwhelmed.

“Are you okay?” Kal held her shoulder, murmuring a healing chant.

“I’m fine. Just…No one touch that stuff.”

“Excuse me, Ceccitol.” A Dark Elf warrior pointed to a pile of stones. “We’ve found something.”

The Dark Elves stood before several small barrels of the liquid silver. How the Goblins were able to extract this without going mad was a mystery, perhaps the piles of dead were a clue. Verona felt slightly exhausted from just a few moments of touching whatever that was.

“Take a barrel,” Verona said. “We need to find out what this is. Ferula might know.”

“I’m sure Cetina will be glad to hear that.” Kal murmured.

The Dark Elves secured the lid tight and began to carry it extremely delicately out of the cavern.

“Now what?”

Verona looked to Kal. “I think we should tell Atros to be ready for anything. If the Ancient Listeners are up to something we need to be ready for it.”

“They have access to all the people of Graterious,” Kal said. “If it’s them. And they don’t have to cross a giant crystal chasm…Which we still don’t know how it was made. It wasn’t there when I passed through, and it doesn’t seem like something Tethra would do. Or even if she could.”

“Very strange…Maybe it was to stop someone from Graterious getting into the Kar Kingdom.” Verona held her chin. “But they wouldn’t have left the one stone bridge that we destroyed. Unless it was easier to move that way than to use whatever kind of portal they’ve used here.”

Verona shrugged. “Not much we can do about it now.”

They quickly retreated from the mine, the Dark Elves outside were constantly scanning the perimeter for more Goblins. Every few heartbeats a bow loosed followed by the sound of an arrow sinking into flesh.

“Everyone out?” Verona asked. “If the Goblins sneak through they could get the rest of that silvery stuff. So…”

When she received a nod she thrust the large shards into the roof. They buckled in contact with the stone, her shards were far softer and more fragile than the stone and only elicited a few small chunks. Verona liquefied the blood and poured it upwards through the cracks. Slowly they found a way through. Verona hardened the blood and pulled down with all her might. The blood resisted her but finally, one rock gave way, collapsing the entire entrance. Verona covered her face as the cloud of dust settled over them.

Verona coughed, waving away the dust. “One less thing to worry about.” She turned to the barrel of liquid silver. “We’ll take that back to Atros, far away from here. Make sure that someone’s kept here, just to make sure they don’t get their grubby little hands on any more. Or those humans.”

Verona returned to her Jaguar Mount, scratching its neck. “Let’s hope that’s the last of the crazy stuff. For now at least. You don’t like running, do you?”

The Jaguar growled in happiness.

“I wonder which is going to be sorted first, here or Qaiviel?” Verona sighed. “I wonder which is really worse. At least these Goblins aren’t aiming for our home, for now at least.”

Chapter 145 - Vol 4 - King and Key

Chapter 145:

Anton twisted the wooden blade to block Cetina’s strike. Her strike connected, his muscles tensed to hold the blade steady but he managed. Just. Judging by her face she wasn’t using all of her strength.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me.” Anton murmured, resuming his stance and advancing on Cetina.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Cetina laughed, an honest laugh. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”

Cetina dashed to right and slashed at his legs. Anton thrust the wooden sword to the ground just to block the strike, her strength and the poor angle of his sword couldn’t block the strike and both struck his leg. The wooden blade slapped against Anton’s leg, effectively blocking Cetina’s strike. Even if it was an actual sword it too would have blocked the hit though might have left a few bruises. Anton twisted his leg away, spun himself around and swung the sword towards Cetina’s back. The wooden blade cracked loudly on Cetina’s armoured back. She grunted and stumbled forward onto all fours, continuing forward to create some distance and breathing room.

“Better.” Cetina’s hand tapped the back of her armour. “But you still need a lot of work.”

“I keep telling you not to go easy on me.” Anton sniggered.

Cetina’s eye twitched. “Do you want me to actually try?”

“I thought you were.” Anton readied his body. “Otherwise you’re not much of a bodyguard.”

A mere minute later every part of Anton’s body hurt. Cetina had been going easy on him, very easy. Despite everything he had learnt he was nothing more than a complete amateur. For every hit he managed Cetina struck ten times. Never had he been beaten so many times-

Anton dropped the sword, his hand gripping his heart.

“Are you okay?” Cetina dropped her own sword and held his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for today. Are…Can you not heal yourself?”

Anton waved her down. Something tried to force its way through the static, scratch covered memories. After several deep breaths, his heart calmed and his fingers relaxed.

“I’m okay, Cetina.” Anton took another deep breath. “It’s just…Something that happens.”

“Relating to your…” Cetina pointed to his waist.

Anton shook his head. “No. This has been happening long before that. Before I even first arrived in Qaiviel.”

“Let’s have a seat.” Cetina propped his arm over her shoulder. “We’ve got some time before Leo begins moving again.”

As Cetina helped Anton to a simple wooden chair at the edge of the rudimentary sparring field Anton surveyed the camp. Though Leo pushed the men hard, quite justifiably given what the Church of The Holy Father and Harold were inflicting upon the people, there was a limit. They were stopping for a few hours, to gather their strength and allow another force to catch up. While only a few thousand men and a few hundred Knights they would need everything they could scrounge up. Even with the Royal Army Anton worried about their chances, even with his magic. He doubted that Caiden was all they had to play in this game.

“Thanks, Cetina.” Anton patted her arm as she gently let him down. “I think I just need a drink.”

“It’s a bit early for beer.” Cetina squatted before him, smiling in an attempt to comfort him. “But I’m sure you could use some.”

“Just water will be fine.”

“Allow us.” A voice, belonging to an elderly man, spoke from behind.

Alfred, with Duchess Belinda at his side, approached with a large water skin and two rough towels in his hands.

“I thought that you would be advising the king.” Anton gratefully accepted the towel. It was made from rough wool, more than enough to soak the sweat on his face.

“I still am.” Alfred bowed his head as he passed the water and remaining towel to Cetina. “And that’s partially why I’m here.”

“Not just to watch me, someone that could kill an entire army by himself, being beaten up by a one-eyed woman?”

Cetina and Alfred chuckled.

“A little,” Belinda admitted. “But they were far more interested than we were.”

Belinda pointed to a large crowd on the far side of the Sparring Field. Several hundred soldiers, a mixture of mercenaries, militia, heavily armed Royal Army soldiers and even a few Knights, were exchanging small denominations of copper and silver coins, the Knights gold coins.

“I wonder who bet on me,” Anton asked.

“Probably the people that thought you would use magic.” Cetina smiled. “Or that Marble Spear thing of yours. If you used either of those there’s no way I could win.”

“True. But you’d have an actual sword.” Anton motioned for the waterskin. “Then things would have been different.”

“But you can heal yourself.”

“And then you fall into that trance thing of yours and I'm sure you'd find a way to deal with me. You killed a Fire Mage all on your own.” Anton felt the cool water draw the heat from his face and neck. “But we can keep doing this forever. So, what’s happening?”

“Another four thousand soldiers and two thousand Knights will be arriving shortly.” Alfred began. “It’s almost nothing compared to the Royal Army but we need everything. Our horses and Ix will appreciate the rest, if nothing else.”

“No more Church forces?” Anton asked.

“I’m afraid not. The Knights managed to attack some stragglers but they sent those Stitch Soldier things against them. They lost a few Knights but it was enough for the main force to escape. Our scouts report they’ve all retreated to Clausonne. Presumably for some sort of last stand.”

“If they did defeat us there…” Anton rubbed his chin. Cetina outstretched her hand for the waterskin. “Which they’d have the advantage with all of their defences, there’d be nothing to stop them. They’d roll over just about everything.”

“Including your home.” Belinda softly added.

Anton nodded as Cetina sculled the water like a thirsty dog.

“My men are doing their best to remove the Principle Mage threat,” Alfred said. “Many have hidden themselves or have already been killed. Those remaining will either be spirited away or, if they cannot, they will be killed.”

Alfred sighed. “It’s a shame that so many innocents have to die, simply because we can’t get them away.”

“Well…That is the reality of war.” Anton glumly stated.

Alfred frowned lightly. “It sounds like you have some understanding?”

“Not really. Just that war isn’t clean or noble in any way.”

Alfred gently nodded.

“What about your prospects?” Anton looked at Belinda. “I’m sure that you’re going to do well after this.”

“So long as we win.” Belinda smiled. “But I believe that my territory will easily double or triple.”

Anton nodded.

“And if you, Anton, can ingrain yourself better with King Leo.”

“We haven’t exactly spoken much since that whole incident with Caiden.” Anton closed his eyes. “I don’t want to think much more about that thing.”

“Leo is still a young king.” Alfred continued. “And…He’s inquiring about you.”

“Only you two know anything about me.” Anton chuckled. “I guess that makes you rather valuable to the new king.”

“I suppose you could see it that way.” Belinda smiled. “I don’t believe Leo, King Leo, sees many advantages in speaking with me right now, but he wishes to speak with you.”

“He’s very interested in your style of magic,” Alfred added. “He’s been asking the few Principle Mages we have about it and is very intrigued.”

“So is he chasing women again?” Anton wiped away what little sweat was left. “That’s what I’ve heard from the other soldiers and mercenaries. Though it sounds like they don’t exactly dislike the attention.”

“Having the King’s child would ensure an extravagant lifestyle.” Belinda mused. “However there is no way that person would ever become a Queen. Leo will need all the support he can get, and marrying some common woman would only annoy the nobles. They might even plot to kill her and the child.”

Anton stood up. “While that is very tragic and disheartening is there any particular reason why you’re telling me this? Is he looking for alliances from afar? We don’t exactly have nobility in Atros.”

Anton glanced at Cetina. “And I don’t exactly feel comfortable selling anyone to secure some sort of alliance. Alliances should be stronger than just marriage…Effectively some sort of glorified hostage…”

“That’s not up to us,” Alfred said calmly. “But he does want to speak with you.”

“Alright.” Anton took the towel and water skin from Cetina. “But the young King isn’t going to get his hands on anyone from Atros.”

Cetina smiled and gave a curt nod. Alfred and Belinda manoeuvred through the sprawling camp, avoiding the larger, busier sections. Cetina grumbled lightly as they passed the prostitute’s quarters, protected by many soldiers. They didn’t prevent anyone from entering, even if they looked just shy of fourteen, their presence was merely to ensure order. Anton saw one of the prostitutes and thought the young boys could do better. Perhaps it was better this way, at least if they died they would be able to claim they’d slept with a woman.

Alfred stopped them before a large and ornate tent, the symbol of the Qaiviel Kingdom, a wolf’s head surrounded by a wreath, proudly on display on a flag flapping in the light breeze. Black Rider Knights stood at attention, in full armour with their weapons drawn, in a ring around the large tent. Behind those archers stood ready to strike anyone approaching. Anton noted a large gap had been cleared around this Command Tent.

“Leo is inside,” Alfred said. “I hope that you handle yourself well.”

“You’re not coming?”

“No. He asked for you…But I’m sure that Cetina, your bodyguard, will be allowed to come with you.” Alfred chuckled. “I’m sure that Cetina is to be the least of his concerns.”

“If he tries something it won’t just be my magic.” Anton smiled at Cetina. “I know that she can throw a mean punch.”

Cetina smiled faintly and returned a nod. The Black Rider soldiers moved to the side and allowed them passage. An open and spacious interior greeted them; a large table lay in the middle with several chairs, to the side plates of food and drink and a small bed surrounded by small wooden and white cloth dividers.

“King Leo?” Anton said loudly.

“One moment.” Leo’s replied from behind the partition.

Cetina gave Anton a glance as a young black-haired woman emerged from behind the divider, her short hair rough and her exposed skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her black clothes, evidently a Page or Squire from the Black Riders, were dishevelled and buttoned incorrectly. She barely made eye contact, bowed her head once and left. The soldiers outside did not stop her passing.

“Is it alright to just let her go like that?” Anton asked, moving to the table. “You shouldn’t just kick someone out just because you’re done with them.”

“She asked me,” Leo said calmly. Anton could hear the ruffling of clothes. “I’ve never forced any woman.”

“I’m sure being a prince, or a king, helps.”

“Perhaps.” Leo emerged, wearing loose clothing similar to the girl. “But I’ll never know either way.”

“I was told that you wanted to speak with me.” Anton glanced at Cetina. “I’m sure it was something more than just recounting conquests.”

“Indeed.” Leo ran a hand through his hair, trying to straighten the tangled mess. “Please, have a seat.”

Anton took his while Cetina remained standing behind. As Leo moved to the table of food and drink Cetina kept her eyepatch covered eye on him. Leo didn’t know that her vision wasn’t diminished in any way.

“Up until now, I’ve been concerned with reaching Clausonne as fast as possible.” Leo stopped pouring three glasses of wine. “And before my sister.”

“You certainly share some animosity.”

Leo said nothing as he passed the glasses out. Anton made sure that his poison immunity was active, and on Cetina. Satisfied he took a sip. Again the nobility of Qaiviel picked good wine. Where were their vineyards?

“Not particularly.” Leo flopped into the chair. Right now he didn’t seem like a King, rather a slovenly prince. “I just don’t want half of my kingdom taken away from me.”

Leo sipped at the wine. “Still…I don’t actually have my Kingdom yet.”

Something clicked in the back of Leo’s head. His face contorted lightly as he righted himself, buttoned the few loose buttons and sat upright. He still looked a little less than a King but far more respectable.

“I wanted to know more about you, Anton. As someone that…set off this chain of events.” Leo raised his hand. “I understand that there was no intention to start a civil war. But…”

“We did just sort of arrive with Duchess Belinda.” Anton chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“The magic that you use. It’s not like what our Principle Mages use. They told me it was something called Glyph Magic. They told me it was extremely versatile.”

“It is. But there are limits.” Anton placed the glass on the table. Cetina had left hers full as she placed it next to Anton’s.

“Creating fire and lightning magic with such ease…” Leo chuckled. “Looks like Belinda did well in finding a Master in Glyph Magic. Something I’ve been told is almost extinct. Certainly in Qaiviel and Bebbezzar. And she managed to find multiple users too, if what Alfred and Marcus have told me is true.”

“More the other way around. We found Duchess Belinda during our travels.”

“Some sort of pilgrimage?” Leo raised a brow. “The Principle Mages of Qaiviel have to leave the capital to prove themselves in their field. Usually, it’s to kill a dangerous creature or some gruelling task.”

“Something like that.” Anton sipped at the wine again.

“Do…” Leo tapped the table. “Do you know anything about resurrecting the dead?”

Cetina’s body tensed. Her hand tightened into a fist, the other hard onto her sword. Leo saw but didn’t appear worried in the slightest.

“I have spoken with the few Principle Mages we have with us.” Leo continued. “Your magic can do things theirs simply cannot, not without generations of study and trails while you can simply beseech the Old Gods. At least that’s what they say.”

Anton smiled. “They wanted to prick and prod me after that battle. See what I have to offer them.”

“And?"

“Not much.” Anton nodded at Cetina. “Cetina didn’t like them getting too close.”

“You never know if they have a hidden blade.” Cetina frowned. “No one would suspect a robbed mage to be an assassin.”

Leo nodded. “True…I also heard from some of my men that you were able to heal grievous wounds with ease. Wounds that our Life Mages would have had great trouble with, or required teams so they wouldn’t be drained.”

“It is something that I can do.” Anton nodded. “But I think I just have a much larger reserve of mana. I am still learning how to use it skilfully. But if you’re talking about what I think you are, Necromancy, I’m going to have to decline. It won’t be anything like you desire or hope.”

Is there an Old God of Souls or Death? Some old man dressed with flowing black robes with a scythe?

Cetina’s fingers flinched at the mention, something Leo saw.

“While I haven’t seen it myself I have it on good authority that trying to bring a single person back only results in monstrosities. And that’s if you have the bodies.” Anton tapped his glass. “I have no interest in bringing someone back to torture them or because they are missed. Let the dead rest…I think they’ve earned it after everything they’ve been through.”

Perhaps the God of Time and Prophecy might be able to help. Though if he has the power to turn back time that far…Why would he be allied to Nithroel and not just leader and ruler outright? If you can see the future what could possibly harm you?

"We've seen necromancy first hand." Cetina murmured. "It wasn't...good."

"It was just a thought.” Leo gently rubbed his neck. “My father was innocent in all of this. Even though he didn’t keep an eye on Valérie…”

“You also wouldn’t be king,” Anton said softly.

Leo sighed. “Indeed. I thought I wouldn’t become King for some time. Perhaps ten or so winters, more than enough time to get to grips with how to be a good ruler.”

Anton glanced out the tent. “Seems like you’ve done a good job so far.”

Leo chuckled nervously, slinking down his chair slightly. “I guess you weren’t told of my…Indiscretion.”

“Is this something you want to share with a mercenary you barely know?” Anton raised a brow. “I’m no King but I think that would be a bad idea for your reputation.”

“I’m sure Marcus and Bernard would say something.” Leo shrugged. “I found a Mayor’s wife rather irresistible…And her daughter...”

Cetina murmured something under her breath.

“Were you caught?” Anton asked.

“No. But it was close.” Leo shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be going back there anytime soon.”

Leo quickly grew irritated and restless with the silence that followed. He rebuttoned his shirt and straightened his hair but couldn’t think of something to say, though Anton knew that he wanted to talk about something. His eyes finally rested on a small table to the side.

“Do either of you want some food or something else to drink? We have quite the selection.”

“I’m fine.” Anton glanced up to Cetina. She eyed some of the meat off greedily. “You can have some if you want.”

“What?” Cetina almost appeared ashamed.

“Go on.” Anton bumped the armour on her thighs. “You’ve earned it. After that beating you gave me.”

“You let your bodyguard beat you?”

“Of course.” Anton chuckled, giving Cetina another push. “It’s the only way I’ll learn.”

“If you say so. I am actually quite hungry.”

Cetina dashed to the table. Leo's eye’s followed her rear, it flicked away when he saw Anton staring at him, somewhat annoyed. She returned a few moments later with her mouth full of food, a small drumstick of chicken in her free hand.

“Well, that’s certainly different,” Leo smirked. “I’ve never liked the noblewomen. Something about them is just…unappealing to me.”

“I think I understand.” Anton smiled at Cetina, who raised a brow.

“They’re all so…refined.” Leo chuckled. “So damn fake.”

Cetina swallowed the food and glanced at Anton. Her hand shook slightly before she scrunched it into a fist and lightly bumped his shoulder.

“Always smiling and preening.” Leo scoffed. “A mask they all wear, utterly afraid to let it slip for just a moment. It’s like they’re not people. Normally, once you get to know them they’re complete bitches and harlots. Their mask has become who they are. Unable to separate that world and reality. That’s why I preferred the maids and kitchen staff, even when I wasn’t sleeping with them.”

Leo finished off his wine. “They’re actual people. Not some…prop. Just to look at.”

Anton glanced to Cetina. “I know the feeling. The false face. I prefer them being who they are rather than trying to act all dignified.”

“Thanks, Anton.” Cetina smiled while shaking her head.

“That actually brings up a question.” Anton reached for the wine. “What do you plan to do once the war is over?”

Leo raised a brow.

“If we win, which I certainly hope we will, you will be left with control of an entire kingdom. A kingdom that will be recovering from a civil war, even if the devastation isn’t too dramatic so far.”

“Indeed.” Leo nodded. “The cities and villages we pass are still filled with people and goods, though they know something terrible is coming.”

“If we lose there will be. But I was thinking more along the lines of stability. The people will be looking to you, as will the nobles that didn’t side with Harold and the Church, the ones with their heads still attached, as a sign of strength. And if you spend all of your time…having young available women chasing you.” Anton nodded towards the direction the young woman had given flight. “They might not see you as the King Qaiviel needs.”

“Are you telling me how to be king?” Leo raised a brow. Judging by his tone he wasn’t offended, not yet at least. “I currently have three people telling me what I should do. Most of it makes sense…”

“Perhaps.” Anton smiled. “But I don’t want Qaiviel to become a place of turmoil. I need as much stability as I can for what I have planned.”

“And what would that be?” Leo smiled, leaning forward. His hand brushed against the glass, tilted but righted without spilling a drop. “What plans does the mysterious Glyph Mage brought by a noble on the eastern edge of the Qaiviel Kingdom have?”

“Those are my own, for now at least. But I can assure you that it will benefit you, and your kingdom, a great deal.”

Leo gently rubbed his arm. “I have actually given it some thought. Well, my advisors have. They suggest someone from the Retora Family. You wouldn’t know them but they are a very powerful family in Qaiviel; they own considerable land and forces in the south-east, but they have yet to choose a side. So they suggest marrying one of their daughters to ensure their aid.”

“But you intend to take the capital before your sister reaches it. I’m sure she has a plan to deal with the defenders. And your current numbers, of course. It’s not like you don’t have significant forces now with the Royal Army now backing you.”

Leo glumly nodded. “I don’t have any intention of marrying one of those Ogres.” Leo stuck out his tongue. “They look like some of the soldiers…And with bigger beards…And fewer teeth.”

“That’s why I despise political marriages.” Anton leant back into the chair.

“But I should still think about the future.” Leo’s eye locked with Anton. “Tell me. Where you come from, a place where Glyph magic is practised to such a degree one could call you a master…What sort of nobility do you have?”

“Honestly, none.” Anton received a look from Cetina. “But, if you had to say that someone is a noble than it would probably be me.”

“Speaking of, where are the other two?” Leo glanced about. “The silver-haired one and the woman wearing the mask?”

“That would be Verona and Kal. Currently, they have other duties but they will be involved in the battle for Clausonne.”

“And yet they were here just before…” Leo rubbed his chin. “I’m sure there’s some interesting explanation as to how. Magic, magic can be so versatile.”

“I’ve found there are some limitations.” Anton summoned a small fireball. “I can do this easily. Creating those Fire Imps and Lightning Crows is a little more difficult.”

Leo leant back into his chair. He looked to the ceiling deep in thought. “I spoke with…How did you manage to acquire a clanswoman from the Silver Eagle clan?”

“I didn’t acquire her.” Anton pushed his rear back to straighten up. “I believe that several generations ago some of their blood was forcibly left behind. So she, and her parents, have always had that appearance.”

“Having someone like that-”

“And she’s my wife,” Anton said curtly.

Leo nodded once. “I see…”

Again the room fell silent.

This meeting has been very strange. Why did you call us here again?

Leo slapped his thighs. “I'm glad I'm having these little faux pas before I become king. If I'm wearing the crown everyone would have to take my words far more seriously.”

“If you met people in a casual setting.” Anton motioned to the interior of the tent. “I think they'd be more than willing to let a little slip here and there go through. Especially since you didn't know.”

Leo nodded. “So long as they are understanding. Though that wouldn’t work everywhere. My father told me that the Bebbezzarian Royal family was very...How would you say it? Traditional, I suppose? They followed every rule and protocol to the letter.”

“They're gone though, aren't they?”

Leo's gaze wandered to Cetina. Though her facial features didn't place her as a Bebbezzarian, only those from around Thessos had dark maroon hair and during Anton's brief visit there wasn't a unifying archetype, her colours clearly denoted her origin.

“Yes. Yes, they are.”

“Do you know anything about what happened?” Cetina asked softly. “As a royal, you might know more than we do, though we haven't exactly been trying to discover what happened.”

“I believe their royal guard turned on them.” Leo began. “At least in the beginning. After that, the capital descended into chaos, with all the minor lords and noble families vying for control. Even across the border, right now, there are four small lords battling for control. Marcus is worried it could spill over, plunder our lands for loot and plunder. But as to why it all started I simply do not know. Money is the most likely reason…Though our circumstances have almost nothing to do with that.”

Leo smiled bitterly. “At least I don't think it has anything to do with what we're facing. I certainly hope not.”

“But it will be when you've won.” Anton shifted in his chair. “I know that Kings, and Queens, should sacrifice much of their own happiness for the good of the people. Although you may have to marry one of these Orgres's to maintain the realm I'm sure that your dalliances won't stop.”

Leo's eyes flicked to Cetina.

“But you can forget about that one right now.”

“I would never do something like that.” Leo forced a smile. “Especially to someone that saved us from Caiden, or whatever that thing was called.”

You did try to bed a mother and daughter at the same time. Almost impressive, if you weren't trying to gather support for a rebellion. Your reign might be short-lived if you dally in the wrong areas.

“That does, sort of, bring us to a point that concerns me greatly. Several points, actually.”

Leo raised a brow, refilling and sipping at his glass.

“What was the initial purpose of this Crusade?”

“To kill the heretics and heathens brewing in strength in the ruins of the Kar Kingdom.” Leo frowned, holding his chin in deep, contemplative thought. “Are heretics and heathens really the same thing? No. No, I don't think so.”

“To be blunt, I want you to acknowledge that land as mine.”

Leo raised a brow to his words. “That is where you come from? A dead land? I suppose that makes sense.”

“It will certainly add to my mystique. But that is one thing I will not argue or negotiate over. Those lands are ours. To do with what we please. If you have any intention of claiming or settling them we will go to war. And I can assure you that it will end very, very badly for the both of us.”

Leo sat perfectly still, stunned by Anton's direct words. It might have been a little too direct but any thoughts needed to be cut off here and now. Anton highly doubted they hadn't already thought something similar about his origins.

“That...Can easily be avoided.” Leo quickly regained his composure. “I can tell everyone to remain this side of the Accursed Forest. Actually, saying nothing might be better since no one has tried to venture through yet, right?”

“Only one.”

“I presume that was Duchess Belinda and...” Leo smiled. “Well, this is one of the easiest problems to solve. We simply won't do anything. Ah, to be a prince again.”

Though Leo laughed Anton saw how forced it was, the lack of the curled lips and wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Anton's words had unsettled him greatly.

“I certainly hope so. I do not wish to come to blows with the future King of Qaiviel.”

“So long as we win. Perhaps I should say that I'll marry one of their daughters? It can't be that bad, right?”

“I will have to leave it to your judgement.”

“There's got to one in that family that's passable.” Leo tapped the table with both hands. “Just one. Even from a lower part of the family. Actually...I need to speak with someone that knows more about them. I'm sure Marcus or Alfred will know something. Bernard doesn't know too much other than fighting...He did know...Hmm. Perhaps I'll have to think more highly of him.”

“So long as it helps you in battle, or afterwards. I doubt they'd be able to mobilise many forces for the upcoming battle.”

“True. We'll have to make do with what we have.” Leo drunk heavily at the wine, perhaps to supress the dreaded thoughts of an unwanted political marriage. “And the other things?"

“What happens to The Church of The Holy Father in your lands? Lila sounds like she might want to keep it going, though that might be just that man, Terill I believe it was, trying to maintain his position.” Anton shrugged. “Maybe he believes that something can be salvaged from it.”

Leo shook his head. “After what they’ve done…I don’t think the good people in The Church of The Holy Father, and I have no doubt that there are some, but they don’t need that faith in order to do their good works. And if they need that structure to do the right thing then they’re really not that good to begin with.”

“Are you a follower?”

“Me? No. No, they certainly tried but simply wasn’t interested.” Leo shrugged. “I was far more interested in chasing women than listening to their boring words. Perhaps that saved me, at least that time.”

“You’ll need something to replace it.” Anton leant back into his chair. “The people have had an organised religion for some time. If you don’t find something to replace it they might discover something on their own. Something that might prove to be detrimental to your reign.”

“What about yours?” Leo asked. “Do your Gods offer something that could be useful to the people?”

“Perhaps. But I do not know their scripture.” Anton smiled. “I was more given this power without a proper indoctrination into their practices. We would need to find their books and words. I’ll ask someone, someone that might have access to their scripture, and see what they can find.”

“That’s slightly annoying.” Leo held his chin. “Perhaps we will just have to see how things transpire. The people might just have to focus on improving their lives in the present rather than after we’re dead.”

No mental excuses to not to the right thing in this life, nothing to hide your guilt behind.

“And the other?” Leo raised a brow. “I can’t imagine what it might be.”

I wonder how he’ll react to this.

“How…What do you think of some of the people’s that the Church consider less than worthy? Like,” Anton lazily rolled his wrist in the air. “Say for instance, the Beast-kin?”

Leo frowned lightly, staring into the wine filled cup. “Those creatures are strange. They’re very strange, but I don’t think anything of them. They’re just slaves, after all…”

At least he’s not openly hostile to their very mention. If we come to their aid later, with Beast-kin as part of our forces, he shouldn’t be too alarmed.

“But you’ve seen them yourself?”

“I have.” Leo nodded. “But only once during a diplomatic visit to Seocuria. They weren’t a focus of it but I did see them.”

Leo shrugged. “They really don’t concern me. But I did feel a little odd looking at them. Why do you ask?”

“It’s-”

The tent flap behind them opened, Bernard and Marcus stepped through.

“My King, Lord Anton. Are we interrupting something?” Marcus asked. Bernard simply kept his attention focused squarely on Anton.

“No. No.” Leo stood up. “Just a brief chat about a few things, things that I didn't understand.”

“Things?” Marcus suppressed a smirk. “I'm sure Castor told you what topics to avoid.”

“Yes...Yes, he did.”

And you still brought it up.

Marcus tapped the metal pommel of his sword, jangling with the rest of his metal armour. “I'm afraid, Anton, that we must discuss the final plans of the siege of Clausonne. Taking that city will require more than just throwing men at the walls, such is the Clansmen strategy.”

“Didn't you just say...” Leo trailed off underneath Marcus's intense stare.

“Hopefully Alfred's plan has dealt with the mages,” Bernard growled. “Otherwise we're in trouble.”

“Nothing from your sister?” Anton idly asked as he rose from his chair.

“No.” Leos smile was devoid of all emotion. “That will be all, Anton. Thank you for speaking with me today. I know it was not the most productive but I’m glad to know that we will not come to blows in the future.”

Before either could say anything Black Rider Knights descended upon them and, almost, forcibly escorted them out of the tent, much to the annoyance of Marcus and even Bernard.

If this is how petulant he's going to be just talking about her...Is he going to try and kill her the moment he sees her? Fastest way to guarantee he gets all of Qaiviel.

---[]---

Anton and Cetina said nothing until the Black Rider Knights were long gone. None had spoken a word during their travel, bowed once and left them at their tents. The few nearby watching couldn't understand their awkwardness.

“That was…” Cetina scratched her head. “Interesting.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Didn't expect a King to think I was some sort of noble,” Cetina said oddly proudly.

He thought you were a bodyguard...Perhaps a lower noble pressed into service?

Cetina’s smile slowly faded. “But I’m thinking…”

Cetina lightly slapped her cheek. “Would you like to have another spar? I feel like I need to, get some of this energy out of me.”

“Do you want to have a try with actual weapons?” Anton asked, Cetina rested a hand on the pommel of her sword. “I know you won’t do anything to hurt me but I should know how to feel the proper weight in my hand. Wood just can’t compare to steel.”

“You only have a dagger.” Cetina chuckled. “Enough to keep you safe against an intruder but not in an actual fight.”

Anton shrugged. “I’ll borrow one. I’m sure someone’s got an old one they can lend to the travelling Glyph Mage.”

“I’m surprised that no one’s trying to sell you priceless weapons.” Cetina drew her sword. After a single practise swing a frown creased her forehead. “They might think you’re stupid and just going to buy…I’m not liking this.”

“Something wrong?” Anton looked to the sword as Cetina held it flat, lining her eye along the blade.

“It feels off.” Cetina shook the blade back and forth. “Something’s wrong with the handle. It’s bouncing with each swing.”

Cetina swung the sword and stopped suddenly. The blade bounced slightly, even Anton saw the strain coming from within the handle.

“It could break and then I’d be left without a weapon.” Cetina smiled at Anton. “And unlike…Unlike you three I don’t have any magic.”

Cetina ran her gloved fingers over the edge. “Getting a little dull too.”

“We could get it repaired here.” Anton idly said. “Besides, having a walk could be good for us. Clear our heads.”

Cetina nodded. “I just really need the handle fixed. I’ll have to get it repaired in Clausonne.”

“A better sword?” Anton asked. Cetina’s body hardened. “I’m sure we could get a stronger blade.”

Cetina’s hand gripped tight. “Perhaps there are better swords and weapons out there but this means…Means a lot to me.”

“I don’t mean to tell you to sell it. Verona and Kal still have their original weapons, just in storage for now. Verona can’t exactly use two spears or Kal two bows.”

The small war camp smithy wasn’t difficult to find. It wasn’t much, smaller than Johnathan’s smithy and probably less well equipped. However, it served its purpose well; basic repairs and the creation of arrowheads and other small miscellaneous items. Large burly men worked over small hot piles of coals, the strange spider-shaped metal construct lying buried in the red lumps of coal, to smash the stubborn metal into shape. A large line of soldiers waited to use their services. Those of a higher social rank, those with brighter and more resplendent armour, tried to push forward but a small band of Blue Firestorm and Black Rider Pages and Squires kept them in line. Two of the Blue Firestorm men recognised them and ushered them to the front. A Smith, busy with repairing some heavily damaged chain mail, was called away to help them.

“Yes?” The Smith asked gruffly, rubbing his dirty coal covered hands onto his thick apron and shirt. He frowned at Cetina. “You shouldn’t bring a woman to a battlefield. Do you know what happens to women soldiers if they’re caught?”

Anton smiled. “Cetina can handle herself better than most people. Given a bit more time I think she could take down one of those Knights-”

“Surely you didn’t have those idiots call me away from my work just so you could charm her.”

Anton glanced at Cetina. “It would be very like you to be impressed by me extolling your martial prowess.”

Cetina scoffed, but she was more than happy to be praised. The smith’s eyes conveyed his rapidly diminishing patience.

Anton motioned for Cetina to pass over her sword. “We need this sword repaired.”

“Please be careful,” Cetina said softly. “It’s all that I have left of my father.”

You also have that Ghlyirl box. But it did cause me to have some changes…

“Well…” The Smith studied the blade. “I suppose it’s not too bad. A few chips, nothing too serious, no obvious cracks...but the handle needs a lot of work.”

The Smith lightly picked at the small leather bands forming the handle. Two fell apart with only a light touch.

“If you’d used this…” The Smith nodded. “This won’t take long. Do you want to replace it or just fix it?”

“Replace anything that’s damaged. But I’d like everything that can be kept…”

The Smith gave a final nod and returned to his area, moved the mail shirt to the side and began working on the sword’s handle.

“How much do you think we’re going to owe him?” Anton asked.

Cetina frowned lightly at the sword.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m…” Cetina’s lip curled up in annoyance. “Do you think that myself and Rasha will be enough? As bodyguards?”

“What do you mean?” Anton asked, keeping his face flat and serious.

Cetina waved to the lines. “If they decided to attack you, and I was actually ready, what good could I do?”

Cetina pointed to his gloved hand, the hand covered in three small Glyph marks. “That I could do before you just struck them with that?”

“For…” Anton stopped himself, now was the time to be serious. “I would still need your help, especially if they can deflect magic or if there’s simply a lot of them.”

“I see…”

“But.” Anton raised his hand. “You are the Captain of my guard. So, what do you think?”

Cetina held her chin. “Well…” Cetina eye glanced to his face. “I think there should be a few more. Rasha and I can keep you safe from anyone trying to attack you in melee. But a few people that could fight behind in, with bows or magic, would be good. Extra, of course. I understand that Verona and Kal can fight well but more would be better. Make the journey safer, especially ones that can travel in human lands. Since that’s where I think we’ll be going for a long time.”

“Those Dark Elf twins, if they could use bows, would be ideal.” Anton nodded. “I’m sure Kal can teach them…I’m surprised that they hadn’t been taught, given how every Dark Elf I’ve seen can use the bow.”

“Is that why?” Cetina smirked. “Or is it just because they’re both cute?”

“Are you jealous?”

Cetina laughed. “At least they have both of their eyes…”

The Smith returned, shaking his head. “It’s a little hard to work with you two flirting, but I’ve found the problem.”

He held the sword in his hand, the pommel completely unravelled and loose.

“There was something inside the handle.” The Smith frowned. “I don’t know where you got it but you should tell them that they shouldn’t leave stupid things like this inside. The little teeth cut away at the material from the inside over the winters. You’re lucky it didn’t break in a few days’ time. That would have been the end of you.”

The Smith picked a small piece of metal from the bundles of damaged leather. For a moment Anton thought it was a broken piece of the sword, the piece of metal that extended through the handle, but it was a much darker metal. A metal with strange hexagonal white markings covering the dull metal. Ghlyirl. A Ghlyirl key.

Cetina let out a tiny whimper as she took the small key. It was the perfect size for the Ghlyirl box.

“He…” Tears began to flow down her face, leaking out from beneath her eyepatch. “He trusted me with it. Even after…”

Cetina stifled her tears. The Smith said nothing as Anton held her shoulder. Cetina gripped his hand tight as the strength began to leave her legs. The mere implication that she was entrusted with something so important, even after her father’s mental corruption, was simply too much.

“I didn’t know…” Cetina’s face scrunched tight in an attempt to stop her flowing tears.

Her body crumpled as she began to cry, uncontrollably. The Smith looked rather concerned, especially as the gazes began to focus on him.

“Fix the sword please.” Anton took both of Cetina’s hands. “I mean the handle. Make sure it’s done well.”

“R-Right.” The Smith quickly retreated as Anton gently pulled Cetina away from the smithy,

Cetina wasn’t wailing but was just a few moments from every barrier just breaking. Anton found a semi-secluded place and something for Cetina to sit on. She accepted his help and sat on the rickety wooden crate, refusing to relinquish her hold as her legs began bouncing uncontrollably. Anton said nothing as her cries and tears slowly began to abate.

“I thought…” Cetina shook her head. The small key remained in her hand, crushed against Anton’s. He didn’t want to interrupt her.

“I thought that…” Cetina released her hold, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. “I thought that I wasn’t wanted. After they arrived.”

“Did your father give you that sword before or after they arrived?” Anton asked softly. Cetina’s cries had attracted some attention. When they saw she wasn’t being attacked, and who was with her, they quickly dispersed.

“Before.” Cetina lifted her eyepatch and dabbed at the tears. “Before that. Just before.”

A frown creased her face. “Just a few days…” Cetina’s face hardened. “He knew something was wrong but couldn’t stop it…Promise me something, Anton.”

“Yes?”

“Promise me that when we find Eluria, and we will find her, that you leave her to me.” Cetina barred her teeth. “Sancha’s already dead but she was just her apprentice. Promise me that you’ll leave that bitch to me.”

“So long…” Anton picked the key from her hand. “So long as you don’t lose yourself to anger and rage.”

Cetina tilted her head, the redness in her eyes was fading fast.

“I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen when we hunt down Kal’s father, Rafiki. Just mentioning his name sends her into a panic attack. Marion's not much better. Actually meeting him…I’m just worried that something similar might happen to you.”

Cetina stared at the ground. “I can’t promise that I won’t. The mere thought of her makes me angry. Very angry.”

Cetina flexed her hands and took a deep breath. “But I will try…I promise that I’ll behave myself. But only because you said so.” Cetina scratched behind her ear. “If it were up to me I’d run my sword through her throat just like Sancha. Let her bleed out slowly.”

Anton slowly nodded, a part of him wanted to say something witty but now wasn’t the right time.

“Do you want something to drink? Not wine or beer, obviously.”

“I’m fine.” Cetina brushed her armoured legs. “I just wasn’t ready for that. All the memories came back…Of that bedroom, covered in blood.”

Something flashed over Cetina’s eye. She lunged forward and grabbed both of Anton’s hands.

“Let me practice! Against magic users. I know you don’t use the same magic as they do but I need to learn. Not just running at them with a heavy shield. I don’t know how and if I have to fight against one…Even here. I’m sure that Harold will have mages too.”

“You did well against that Fire Mage.”

Cetina shook her head. “I got lucky. And, if that mage had been any stronger I wouldn’t have won. You saw how strong Ferula is.”

Anton glanced at her hands still holding tight onto his. “The Royal Army has those special shields. I’m sure we could get one. Gold isn’t a problem.”

“And then?”

“And then we can practice.” Anton smiled. “I’ll use small Lightning Bombs, they only hurt but it’ll be good training for you. And for me.”

Cetina relinquished her hold and pulled herself up. “Let’s go get it then. I get to keep my other shield, right?"

“It is yours after all.”

Cetina glanced around, there was no one watching and awkwardly scratched the band of her eyepatch on the back of her head. She refused to look him in the face as she took several more deep breaths.

“Thanks for…” Cetina rolled her hand.

“Not a problem.” Anton snapped his fingers, startling Cetina. “By the way, would you like an upgrade to your armour?”

Anton poked at the holes between her metal plates on her shoulders. “One good hit here and my bodyguard is down for the count.”

Cetina nodded. “Can we get that along with the shield? Would they even sell something like that in a war camp?”

“First things first, let’s get your sword.”

---[]---

Cetina flexed her hand, her new armour barely made a sound, even compared to her old less encompassing metal plates. Now she looked almost identical to the other heavily armoured Royal Army soldiers; every part of her body was covered in a mixture of metal and chain mail, beneath that a thick layer of gambeson. A new helmet rested on a nearby table, very similar in appearance to the other full face encompassing helmets that still allowed Cetina significant vision. Cetina looked like a true soldier rather than some cheap militia. Not that Anton would ever dare let that thought pass his lips.

“How does it feel?” Commander Henri asked.

“Pretty good.” Cetina returned a nod. “It’s a lot lighter than I thought it would be.”

“This armour is made by the very best smiths in Qaiviel.” Henri smiled. “Not something that you’d find in some provincial city or town.”

“Can Harold get more of these?” Anton asked. Cetina stepped towards him as she continued to test her mobility. “He has a lot of money.”

“True.” Henri smiled. “But I’ve had the smiths hide and removed the important components. The forges are effectively useless. And it’ll take far too long for Harold to get replacements from Bebbezzar or the Dwarven Isles.”

Cetina stopped a few paces before Anton and smiled, very happy with her new armour.

“It looks a little bit Dwarvish.” Anton tapped on Cetina’s armoured shoulder. “Not that I’m a master at identifying their work…”

Henri nodded. “We have some of their equipment but our work is nowhere near as good as theirs. We also don’t have the money to buy them outright. Some do, but not for everyone.”

“Thankfully we have Balefire.” Cetina smiled.

Anton nodded. “True. How much do we owe you, Henri?”

Henri dismissively waved his hand. “Nothing. You saved many of my men from that monstrosity, Caiden or whatever that creature’s original name was, so this is the least of what we can do.”

Henri snapped his fingers at a young soldier waiting in the corner of the large tent. He bowed his head and left.

“What happened to your…”

“Oh.” Henri smiled. “He fell during the scuffle with Caiden. I am very disheartened by his loss and he will be missed as a great warrior and loyal soldier.”

Anton and Cetina shared a glance.

“I’m…Sorry for your loss.” Anton didn’t speak with confidence, nor was Henri particularly bothered.

The soldier returned with a large shield, a slight blue hue covered the rim, and an arming sword. A blue metal, Chelium, adorned the edges of the steel sword. A cheap but effective way to enhance the strength and sharpness.

“An Enchanted shield.” Henri began. “Made by the Royal Academy of Clausonne. Able to weaken any incoming magic, as well anyone that touches it. So mages really shouldn’t touch it.”

Anton touched the edge of the shield. His mana began to quiver within his body, an utterly disturbing sensation, which lingered for a few seconds after releasing his touch.

“That took some of my magic…” The faint hue hadn’t grown in intensity. “Is your eyepatch still working, Cetina?”

Cetina nodded. “I’ll remember not to touch it with this shield.”

“And the sword is tipped with hardened Chelium, so it’ll cut through just about anything.”

“I’m being showered with expensive gifts.” Cetina glanced at Anton. “No more sweet words and promises, being told that I’m not just a lure…”

Henri raised a brow but allowed the comment to pass.

“I must say, Glyph Mage Anton, that I was surprised to see you, see you both, coming to our section of the camp without King Leo’s…Presence? Shall we say?”

“I’m not planning to move behind his back, if that’s what you mean.” Anton smiled. “In this war, I’m simply a mercenary. But I’m glad that you decided to change sides.”

Henri glumly nodded. “The first thing I knew about it I was being ordered to attack the Black Riders. Now, I might not be the smartest man but I know those stubborn bastards would never betray the King. When I demanded to see King Lambert…Well, you can imagine their refusal. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.”

Henri motioned to his army. “And I’m certain my men are glad to not be charred skeletons either.”

“Thank you for the gift.” Anton thrust out his hand for Henri to shake. “I understand that our paths may not cross again once Clausonne has fallen-”

“I certainly hope not.” Henri smiled. “Not in that way.”

“But if you need our help don’t hesitate to contact Duchess Belinda.” Anton shook Henri’s hand, he wasn’t trying to crush his but the elderly man was extremely strong. “She can get in contact with us.”

“I have a young grand-daughter that is unwed.” Henri smiled. “But I don’t think you’re interested in that. Are there any unwed nobles in this place you call home?”

“Unfortunately not. We don’t have nobles.”

“Not yet at least,” Cetina said softly.

“I intend to create something that doesn’t have nobility…” Anton frowned lightly. “Though I get the feeling that something along those lines is going to happen regardless of what I do.”

Cetina gave a curt nod. “And those close to you, like Jeff, Jonathan and Zac will end up nobles themselves.”

“Perhaps it is inevitable to some degree. But talk to Leo about that Grand-daughter. He has some issues regarding a potential spouse.”

“Already? Seems a bit young to be worrying about that, especially since I know what he’s like.” Henri coughed lightly. “Regardless, ensure that you take proper care of that armour. It’s far, far more expensive than steel to replace.”

“I shall.” Cetina bowed her head.

Henri shook their hands once again before they left. They quickly returned to the sparing fields, still awash with activity, while Cetina had a slight bounce to her step.

“Isn’t going to get hot?” Anton asked.

“I’ll be fine.” Cetina smiled. “I can always drop it if it gets too bad.”

Their previous spot was being used by a group of young militia, barely old enough to grow a motley beard. Anton despaired a little; they were barely adults and yet they would fight and die like everyone else. A White Dog mercenary snapped at them and ushered the young militia away.

“Are they going to be serving on the front?” Anton asked.

The mercenary glanced at the young boys. “Not really. They won’t be on the front, but if the enemy breaches the lines they will. Better that they know how to defend themselves than not.”

Anton returned a curt nod as they resumed their previous positions. Anton summoned a small Lightning bomb, as small as he could without the small mana creation collapsing in on itself, and hovered it in front of Cetina’s new shield. She gave a single nod and Anton threw the small sphere. Cetina braced herself, the lightning bomb exploded but left no damage.

“How was that?” Anton asked. “Did it hurt?”

Cetina lowered her shield and inspected the front. Apart from a few small scorch marks, there were very few signs of damage.

“I wonder if this would have worked against that fire mage.” Cetina wondered aloud.

“You still would have rammed him.” Anton looked at the centre of the shield. “Maybe if we put a spike on this you could use this as a weapon.”

Anton mimicked Cetina using her shield as a weapon. “Could be useful.”

Cetina smiled and gave a tiny nod. She lowered her shield and looked to the young group of militia.

“Are you worried about…” Cetina glanced around, many were within earshot but they couldn’t tell if they were actively listening. “Home? Many in the training fields are quite young.”

“I am.” Anton summoned two small Lightning Bombs. “But it’s worrying that they will have to fight and die in defence of the city. I’m even more worried about my children. I hope that the world will be a little safer for them.”

“No more witches.” Cetina murmured.

“Do you think that little girl is better?” Anton asked.

As Cetina opened her mouth to reply Anton threw both of the Lightning Bombs. Cetina hurriedly raised her shield to absorb the strike. Again there was no substantial damage, perhaps now a little bit of the metal had deformed.

Anton grumbled lightly as Cetina lowered the shield, an angry frown on her face. “I don’t know how well it’ll do against a Lightning Mage.”

“You could have warned me.” Cetina kicked at the dirt. “What if that had hit my face?”

“I made sure to aim at the shield,” Anton smirked. “But that actually gave me a thought.”

“That I’m going to hit you if you do something like that again.” Cetina’s smile barely hid the annoyance bubbling in the back of her mind.

Anton threw another two Fire Bombs, again directly at her shield. Cetina grunted and took the hit. The metal didn’t glow from the heat, like Cetina’s tower shield, but it conveyed some heat.

“You’re going to pay for that.” Cetina cast away her new sword, the Chelium tipped edge cut easily through the dirt as she ran towards him.

Anton threw another small volley of magic, Cetina absorbed them all and continued charging. Even with the armour, she moved incredibly fast and without any impediment. She slowed at the last second but still struck Anton with her shield, throwing him back while Cetina stumbled to the side. She stumbled forward, drew her small dagger and held it against his throat.

“I think I win this round.” Cetina chuckled. “Not if you were being serious.”

“True.” Anton patted her hand. Cetina was able to pull him up with just one hand. “You’re very strong. But I think that’s the best way to deal with Mages. Just rush them, keep them scared. Or snipe them with a bow.”

“Or another mage.” Cetina shrugged.

“True…I haven’t told you about my special project, have I?”

Cetina retrieved her sword and shield. “Does this have anything to do with Verona’s plan?”

Anton laughed. “No. I don’t think Verona understands fully what I want. Kal maybe too…It’s hard to understand something you have no concept of.”

Cetina looked to the ground. “Come on. Let’s keep practising. Today’s been…An interesting day.”

“That is has.” Anton gripped his hands tight as he looked to the west. “But I’m a little worried.”

“About fighting more mages?”

“No. I’m worried about the Stitch Soldiers.” Anton ran a hand over the base of his tail, just above his waist. “About this. How many more of those things do they have in there? Who knows how many are like Caiden.”

Cetina’s face softened as she held his shoulder tight. “I’m not worried. You’ll figure something out, you have so far.” Cetina smiled, an honest beaming smile. “If it weren’t for that I could still be languishing in Graterious. You managed to get me out of that…Even if I was drunk for a little bit, but I know you’ll think of something.”

Cetina lightly bumped his shoulder. She placed down her new weapons and shields and retrieved the two wooden practice swords.

“So, until you do.” Cetina threw him the sword. “We’re going to practice. I know I can deal with weak mages, but I don’t think you can deal with a single swordsman. Even a beginner.”

Cetina pointed her sword at Anton’s chest. “So think of a plan while I’m beating you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Anton readied a stance, knowing full well that his body would be tired and sore exhausted by the time Cetina forgave him.

Chapter 146 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - The King's Subterfuge

Chapter 146 Pt.1:

“How much longer before the camp breaks?” Cetina asked. She had removed her new so she could wipe away the sweat covering her face, one of the few disadvantages of changing to a more complete set of metal armour.

“Shouldn't be too much longer.” Anton glanced at the nearby tents. “These should be coming down shortly.”

Indeed they were a little overdue to leave. Only in the past few minutes had the reinforcements arrived, more infantry and fewer Knights than originally planned. Anton thought that might be a better result. The siege of Clausonne wouldn't need Knights until the gates were broken. Horses could hardly climb up vertical stone walls.

“I...I actually want to change something about my armour.” Cetina held an arm aloft.

“Already? You've barely had it for an hour.”

“And it's really good. It just...”

Anton smirked. “You want to make it garish, don't you?”

Cetina's eyebrows twitched. “It's not garish. Bebbezzarian colours are bright and beautiful, just like our country. When it's not burning itself to the ground. But I just don't feel comfortable unless I can see them.”

“I remember Kal saying it wasn't ideal for camouflage.”

“I'll wear a cloak then.” Cetina snapped her finger, albeit muted by the metal gauntlet. “The Dark Elf cloaks are pretty good. You still have yours?”

“Excuse me!” A voice called from the side of the training fields.

The training fields were still rather heavily congested, even at this late hour. A space had grown around them, which had nothing to do with the scorch marks littering the grass acting as some kind of barrier. A young Qaiviel soldier, wearing the green and white colours of the kingdom, waved enthusiastically until he was certain they had seen him.

“Yes?”

“Forgive the interruption, my Lords. But Duchess Belinda has requested your presence.”

“Whatever for?” Anton folded his arms. “Everything is essentially sorted. Apart from the battle of Clausonne itself. I wonder if she's decided to court some minor lords for some kind of alliance?”

“Is she the sort of person that would do that?” Cetina quickly refastened her loose armour pieces.

“Possibly. Quite possibly.” Anton turned to the messenger. “Alright. We'll head there, find out what she wants.”

The messenger bowed and left, walking towards where their section of the camp lay.

“I wonder if there's any paint here?” Cetina asked aloud. “I might be able to finish it before we have to leave.”

Anton smirked as they left the sparring fields and began to weave through the closely packed tents. “I think the Royal Army might take offence to you ruining their armour.”

“It's mine now so I can do with it what I want.” Cetina flexed her hand. “It just doesn't feel the same.”

“I find it impossible to believe that a Bebbezzarian has ever managed to sneak up upon a foe.”

Cetina couldn't answer, choosing to act as if the question had never been asked. The human traffic through the tightly packed tents did not abate, even with perhaps an hour before breaking camp. Normally they would pass by a small series of kitchen tents, feeding the normal soldiers with a rough but hearty meal, but someone had broken a cart just before the entrance, spilling bags of grain and oils over the ground. To the right a large group of cooks and labourers shouted and argued loudly while gesticulating towards the broken cart, effectively blocking the path. The messenger stood before the cart, bewildered by the scene. He glanced back and smiled bitterly.

“I don't know what happened.” He forced a smile. “It wasn't like this when I came through here. The back way is still free though.”

The messenger pulled his helmet down and jogged behind the tents. Anton shrugged lightly and followed. Just as they passed the rear of the tents something brought panic to Anton's mind. Another cart had stopped behind them, blocking the path and the kitchens were making noise, clanging pots and other metals when before they had been utterly silent. And there were far too many people lingering behind a kitchen, at least twelve aside from the messenger, far too armoured compared to the rest of the camp.

“Draw your sword,” Anton whispered.

“W-Right.”

Anton raised his hand to create a lightning bomb but a sharp bolt of pain stopped him, cutting his breath short. He glanced down, out of his leg a crossbow bolt jutted out from his armoured upper thigh, the bolt has slipped through the tough hide armour as though it was wet paper.

“Fuck.” The messenger, standing beside another Qaiviel soldier holding a discharged crossbow, loudly thumped on a wooden post holding up the kitchen tent. The raucous clanging only grew louder.

“Don't stop!” Another yelled.

Anton glanced behind. Four men, again Qaiviel soldiers, burst through the rear of the opposing tents. Each held a cold murderous look in their eyes, the ruthless eyes of someone paid to kill.

“Bastards!” Anton threw a single lightning bomb at the crossbow wielder, rendering him to giblets. The noise alone startled the other assailants, the clanging of metal pots was not enough to hide such a distinctive noise.

“Go! Now!” The messenger yelled. “We don't have long.”

Cetina backed into him, holding her back against his as she parried a thrust from the rear assault, striking the man with the handle of her new sword and breaking his nose.

“You-”

Anton's eyes caught movement from the kitchen tent. Two large stones held down a flap just half a meter behind him, only when the cloth moved forward did he catch a man lunging towards him with a grey pot in his hands.

Really?

Anton threw another Lightning Bomb at the front, catching another two assailants, and turned to deal with the pot wielder but he was already upon Anton. Anton lent away, the strange pot struck his shoulder and rolled into the crook of his neck but even hurt. He readied to loose a Lightning Bolt directly into the man's pudgy face, his teeth were covered in the remains of a red moss, when he realised that his entire body felt heavy. Unnaturally heavy. In the brief instant of panic he realised the pot wasn't a pot, rather a helmet, and that it wasn't iron or steel, neither metal was that dark nor had hexagonal white markings.

Without his magic Anton felt truly helpless. Cetina was preoccupied with the assailants behind her, even as she cut down one and readied to dispatch another with a dagger, and couldn't come to his aid just yet. Anton drew his dagger and, in desperation, didn't spin the blade, hit the man in the stomach with the handle. It caused the man some concern, a quick glance down and he drew his own blade to match. Anton flipped the dagger and drove it hard into the man's stomach even as he attempted a wild swing at his face, holding the Ghlyirl helmet against his shoulder with the other. Anton's dagger drove deep, the man's shirt near instantly dying red while dodging the man's own wild swing, missing his face but cutting the band holding his own helmet down. The blade continued on its trajectory and struck Cetina harmlessly on her back plate. For a moment Anton thought he was safe but the pudgy man's smile told him he was utterly wrong. The man discarded his dagger and reached to remove Anton's loose helmet, all the while pushing forward with his significant weight. Anton managed to step out of the way but his helmet was dislodged as they crashed through the neighbouring tent.

“Help!” Anton shouted, but to no avail. The only glimmer of hope was that this tent didn't hold more assailants.

“No one's going to save you, boy.” The pudgy man laughed, bloody spittle covered his teeth and leaked down his lips.

He gripped Anton's hand hard, preventing him from withdrawing the blade and pushed Anton's helmet free. In the brief instant he held Anton's helmet the Ghlyirl helmet rolled away. His body immediately recovered the ability to control his magic. Anton didn't worry about the collateral damage, to himself or the tent, and released a burst of flame into the pudgy man's face. For a moment the man couldn't understand what was happening, the next his face then his body was engulfed in a searing red hot flame. He screamed, quickly cut short as his throat burned, and backed away from Anton. Before Anton could celebrate another assailant, smaller and more wry, darted through the tent and threw a thick red powder into Anton's face. His eyes stung like needles and his breath was taken from him once again.

“Fucking mages.” The man coughed, evidently caught by his own concoction.

The pudgy man had stopped screaming and remained kneeling over Anton, perfectly still as his arms dropped to his side.

“I hate mages. Fucking dangerous freaks you are.”

Something hard hit Anton's head, his mind screamed in pain alongside a wetness that ran down his head. Something cold encompassed the top of his head and his magic ceased to function once more.

“Not so tough are you now?”

Anton heard someone else enter, tearing their way through the tent, judging by the clangs of metal from outside it wasn't Cetina, alongside the unmistakable sound of a dagger being drawn. Though his eyes screamed in pain Anton forced them open, a simple dagger was but inches from his throat, the only part of his body remotely exposed. He caught the dagger in his left hand, driving through the thin leather glove and pulled hard with both. Such a strange action caught the assailant off-guard and pulled him towards Anton. Anton ripped the dagger free, the burst of pain brought his some lucidity through the sheer amount of adrenaline rushing through his body, and rammed it into the tumbling assailant’s neck. A spatter of blood later and the man was nothing more than a bleeding, stumbling corpse.

“Should have used a sword.” The other assailant grumbled.

Anton blinked hard, forcing the blood from his eyes as he desperately tried to free himself of the Ghlyirl helm.

“Oh fuck.”

Something heavy slammed into Anton's chest, taking the wind out of him. The dead pudgy faced man had fallen forward, consuming Anton in a hot mound of fat and flab, inadvertently protecting him from an imminent sword thrust but hadn't knocked the Ghlyirl helmet free.

The assailant smiled, drawing his sword and prepared to ram it straight through both of their necks.

---[]---

Cetina remembered drawing her sword at Anton's instruction. Then, when the first assailant’s sword hit hers, Anton's Lightning Bomb killed the crossbowman, everything fell away. Her mind was now trapped, watching things play out before her like the audience to a theatre, only able to scream in vain at what was unfolding before her.

The first of the four assailants lay dead, still tumbling through the air with a dagger wound bursting blood on his neck. The second swung his sword wildly at Cetina.

So slow. Why does it always go so slow?

Though the number of times Cetina had fallen into this trance could probably count on her fingers she never forgot a single time. All were horrible experiences but this, this was undoubtedly the worst. Normally she would be nothing more than a ghost but this time everything was far more lucid.

The second assailant's sword struck hers, some strength but not enough. Cetina parried the strike before ramming her armoured fist into his nose, just like the first assailant. She stepped forward and drove her dagger into his side before returning back to her original stance, her back bumping into Anton. But something was wrong. His back wasn't exactly where it should have been.

Turn! For the love of anything fucking turn!

Cetina's body responded. It wasn't like another being controlled her body, only that it responded to the most basic of instructions incredibly slowly. Everything else, the complex arts of swordplay and fighting continued without her wandering mind to interfere.

I'm sure Anton would say it's a good thing...Please turn!

Her left eye, covered with the magical eye-patch, caught a glimpse of something large and white lunging at Anton. A man, his face fat and pudgy from overeating, ran at Anton with something large and grey in his hand.

What is that?... Oh no. Ghlyirl! We need to stop him!

Again her body tried to respond but there only Cetina, or at least some fragment of her mind, could act. She turned to help, holding her sword outward in a swing but the two collided and continued forward, sending them both tumbling through the opposite tent.

No! This is how he dies! After all this, some fat bastard with a Ghlyirl helmet.

The notion of Verona or Kal's reaction didn't even enter her thoughts.

Cetina continued her spin, using her momentum to move nearer to the breach in the opposite tent, if only to put something between them and Anton. Another assailant tried to attack but managed to evade Cetina's slash, a sudden burst of blood from a stump revealed that he hadn't escaped entirely.

“Who's this bitch?” The last of the four assailants asked the others, his hands shakily held his sword upright. “She wasn't a part of the plan.”

To Cetina they spoke slowly and normally at the same time; the world felt slow, their mouths moved at a reduced speed yet Cetina understood everything perfectly. She didn't spare a single ounce of thought to the strange phenomena.

“It doesn't fucking matter!” The messenger, the unassuming young man, yelled, more shrieked. “Kill her!”

The clanging of pots continued but with less frequency, someone must be closing in to investigate the racket.

You'll have to go through me!

Cetina intended to speak aloud but her mouth refused to move. The assailant's stepped back one step. Evidently something had escaped her lips.

The messenger pushed the assailant's forward as he re-loaded the crossbow. To Cetina their swing, their very footsteps were like that of a shambling child; slow and easy to predict.

Four fell to her blade, without thinking her body reacted to their attacks and managed to deliver a near perfect counter; directing the blade into the ground and dispatching one with a dagger, another two with a hard horizontal slash cutting through their thin clothes and opening grievous chest wounds, the fourth she ran through and threw him back into another, sending them tumbling back. A blast of heat cut through the joints of her armour, warming the gambeson underneath, alongside a scream and the scent of burning hair and flesh. Cetina forced herself to glance back with her eyepatch enhanced vision, it could see everything in perfect clarity, even in her peripheries. A man, the pudgy man, lay kneeling over Anton as his upper body burned. Already his skin had charred and bursts of melting and boiling fat leaking through.

While she was distracted, the relief that Anton was still alive and could use magic, an assailant, small and wry, slipped through.

Why didn't I...Because he wasn't trying to attack me! I hate this trance!

Cetina willed her body to swing, the Chelium edged sword struck the ground hard but well after his feet had passed. She cursed herself again as a plume of red powder filled the tent. A slight pang of relief filled her when the assailant began to cough and splutter violently, waving his hands to disperse his own powder, but she knew that Anton had received most of it. And more worryingly he wasn't using his magic.

“What's with this bitch?” The messenger grumbled to himself.

Only a handful of assailant's remained in front of her now. She still had her shield, the crossbow wasn't too much of an issue but behind her Anton lay underneath the dead pudgy man, the powder wielding assailant already lay dying beside him but another stood over him. Cetina, trapped inside her mind, couldn't understand how he managed to get past until she saw a flicker of light cast over him.

The tents aren't walls.

As Cetina attempted to back into the tent a bolt struck her side. Despite her new armour the bolt’s tip cut through the metal and dug deep into her flesh. Cetina, trapped in her mind, felt only a dull throb, knowing full well that she should have dropped to a knee or let out a groan at the very least.

Anton barely made a sound when he was struck...No time for thinking like that. Even in here...

“They're almost here.” An assailant, holding a bloody arm, ran towards the Messenger from the far end of the alleyway. “They're fighting them back but they won't hold for long.”

“Not against Knights.” The Messenger loosed another bolt at Cetina, this one she caught with her shield. The blue tip of the bolt immediately explained how it had penetrated metal armour with such ease. “Delay them as long as you can. I don't think we're getting out of this one, but at least we'll have finished the mission.”

The blood assailant nodded and limped away. Cetina could no longer hear the clanging of pots, now shouting and ringing of metal swords striking metal.

“Nothing ever goes easy.” The messenger readied another bolt.

I need to get to Anton. He can deal with all of these so quickly, just need to get that Ghlyirl of his head and this will be all over.

Cetina backed into the tent and caught the assailant, standing over Anton, ready to drive his sword through the pudgy man's neck and into his. Cetina threw her dagger at the man, his eye caught the shiny glimmer from the sharpened steel just as it drove deep into his arm. He grunted, stepped away and held his arm. It was far from lethal or even incapacitating but it was enough, enough to buy Anton a few more moments.

Cetina turned back to the alleyway just as a sword flew at her face. Her body moved of its own volition, deflecting the blade.

That Messenger's about to loose another bolt. I can't take another.

Cetina dropped her shield and stabbed the man in the gut with her word. He tried to pull away but Cetina held his shirt tight, the man's hands only cut themselves to bloody sheds as he pulled on the Chelium edged sword. Cetina saw the Messenger loose another bolt and ducked behind the man. She felt a pang of pity as he looked back and, even though he felt everything at normal sped, saw the bolt coming. It pierced through his back and jutted out his chest, at least Cetina was safe. As she kicked the man away to retrieve her sword the very air behind her exploded. She found herself smiling, thinking that Anton had just used his magic. She was right but not in the way she first thought. What she saw stopped the assailant’s dead.

---[]---

Anton grit his teeth as the assailant stood over him, to ram his sword through the boiling pudgy man's throat and into his. One arm lay pinned by the man's sheer bulk but the other, bleeding from a dagger wound, was free. A strange staring game grew between them; whenever Anton moved to free the Ghlyirl helmet he manoeuvred the sword to stab and pin his hands to the ground, then to slice Anton's exposed throat, but Anton continued to shuffle his head back and forth, slowly pushing the Ghlyirl helmet free. Not to mention both could hear the shouting and sounds of battle coming from both sides. The assailant was simply running out of time.

“Fine then.”

He manoeuvred the sword over the pudgy man's upper back, to someone from outside it would appear to be Anton's neck, and prepared to drive it home with both arms. He wasn't a monster of a man but Anton had no doubt of his conviction or his growing desperation.

My armour won't be enough to stop the blade, and Cetina's still fighting for her life. Am I so weak without magic? Obviously...But I do have magic. A quarter...

Anton's tail, still wrapped tight around his waist, retained a charge. Perhaps a quarter, only so he could create more Marble Spears to deal with any additional Stitch Soldiers like Caiden. In his panic he hadn't tried to use that source of magic, it was still something that he partially wished he hadn't received, if for no other reason than his feet would be normal.

“Your helmets not as good as you think.” Anton spat out from behind the dead pudgy man's head.

The assailant almost hesitated. As he began to thrust downwards something flew into his shoulder, he staggered to the side and held his arm tight. The hilt of a dagger jutted from his arm, blood quickly stained his clothes. Anton saw Cetina turn back to the fight.

I owe you whatever you want after this.

Anton focused every ounce of charge he could muster into his free hand. A writhing ball of black lightning burst into reality, stunning the assailant as he ripped the dagger free.

“H-”

He knew not to ask the obvious question and readied to attack again, this time attempting to ram the sword through both of their heads.

Anton needed time to create the Marble Spear, or anything formed from the Black Lightning. Compared to Glyph magic his knowledge was incredibly limited. He had already experienced what happened when one went too far before and had no intention of experiencing it again.

As Anton couldn't throw the writhing sphere he began to stretch and form the lighting into a simple long cylinder. It wouldn't hurt him but even the smooth surface could result in lethal wounds if they touched the assailant’s skin. The assailant noticed and decided to switch his attack at the last second, driving his sword into the still coalescing Black Lightning. Anton had no idea if that was a strategy used to fight Principle Mages in melee, to physically destroy or interfere with their magical creation but it was the strategy he had chosen. For all he knew the solidifying cylinder could blast him with some unknown magic, so it wasn't an entirely unreasonable decision.

The sword tip struck the formed parts of the thin cylinder, only a few inches from the slightly shrunken sphere of Black Lightning, the metal edge quickly turned red from the heat and vibration before driving into the Black Lightning itself. The sphere exploded, showering everything in a blinding light, so bright that it knocked out Anton’s senses. When they returned he could no longer feel his left hand. He blinked furiously, only a stump remained. Instead of a gushing burst of blood thousands upon thousands of white cubes, identical to the material of the Marble Spear, formed a bizarre cap fusing into his skin. There was no pain or numbness, just a sweet sensation. More worryingly he could feel it across his face. Anton’s first thought was to heal himself better, the question of his evaporated wedding ring didn’t arise, but he still couldn’t use magic.

The assailant still stood above Anton, unmoving without his sword. Thousands of holes riddled his body, wide and deep enough to allow the dim tent light to shine through, even through his head. No blood seeped out, just like Anton’s stump the white cubes formed a near-perfect seal, all tightly packed into one another like the interior of a geode. As the man shuddered blood began to seep through the cracks. A single croak escaped his lips, those too were drilled with the white cubes, and he fell forward, straight onto Anton and the pudgy man.

Anton paused for a second, just to make sure he was well and truly dead, before swatting at the Ghlyirl helmet with his stump of a hand.

Cetina continued to fight outside, still on the defensive and holding the attackers back. While the assailants had relented with the gruesome death of their colleague Cetina immediately turned her attention to the survivors. He could tell, just from a single glance back, the vacant look in her eyes and the ease at which she deflected their blows that she had fallen into her trance.

“It would be great if I could get something like that.” Anton finally knocked the helmet free.

Immediately his control over his normal mana returned. He lightly healed himself, his left hand remained a stump as his magic resisted the marble cubes and couldn’t push through, and, after forcing his right hand free to claw at great clods of grass and dirt, wiggled his way from underneath the two dead men.

As he tried to pull himself upright, pushing against the ground with all of his limbs, a cry came from behind. A young man, not the Messenger, ran at Anton with a small knife drawn. Before Anton could attack he drove the blade through his armour just above his waist and towards his kidneys. Something lay in between, his tail. The pain was unlike anything he had experienced so far, so bad that, for the briefest moment, he felt his mind slipping away.

“What?” The young man, easily in his late teens, whimpered as he tried to pull the knife free. He staggered back as Anton turned around to face him. Anton hadn't needed to use Tethra's power to heal himself, the tail and all of the new pieces healed themselves, albeit extremely painfully.

“What are you?”

Anton groaned internally at the cliché line when the young man attacked again. Anton's mood, and more importantly his tolerance, had reached its end. He blew away the man’s hands with a simple lightning bolt and kicked his knee hard. Though Anton wasn’t as strong as Cetina he had grown in strength ever since arriving in this world. The knee gave way and the young man tumbled onto his back. Before he could do anything other than wildly look at his lightning charred stumps Anton stomped hard onto his chest. The man spluttered as Anton pushed down with all his weight.

“Who sent you to kill me?”

Anton hoped Cetina wouldn't hold it against him, but he was more valuable to Leo than she was.

“Eh...” The man whimpered, tears and snot running down his face. He said nothing as his pants grew wet.

Before Anton could ask anything further or use his magic Cetina grunted loudly in pain. Three crossbow bolts jut out from her side, two in her leg and one close to her stomach. Even with such wounds Cetina fought on without impeedment, with more strength and skill than her attackers.

“Freaks and heretics cannot be allowed to exist.” The young man whimpered. Though the light had vanished from his eyes he had slipped back into some sort of mantra hammered into him. “They must all be destroyed, for the honour of The Ho-”

“I think I understand who sent you now.” Anton kicked his head hard, a spray of blood from his cheeks alongside loosened teeth as he fell unconscious. “I'll deal with you later.”

Anton summoned a Lightning Crow and a Fire Imp, ordering them to defeat Cetina's assailants. The sounds of chaos grew as the two creatures attacked the lightly armoured men. Cetina remained standing at her position, her shield and sword raised and refused to lower either. Anton retrieved his original helmet, the strap would need replacing, held it tight on his head and peered outside. Bodies littered the small alleyway, far more than had originally attacked, all cut down with an incredibly sharp sword or their throats smashed in from something suspiciously shaped like Cetina’s fist. Some still moved, groaning as they rocked back and forth on the cusp of death. The Messenger was nowhere to be found, even the far end of the alleyway was devoid of people. The banging of pots and pans had ceased, replaced with the sounds of minor scuffles and demands for surrender.

“Is that Messenger still here?” Anton asked Cetina.

Cetina said nothing. Her eye remained unfocused as it darted left and right searching for more enemies. No one could raise a hand let alone a weapon.

“Cetina? Fuck, how many times did they get you?”

Again Cetina said nothing. Another two bolts jutted out from her armour, both in the right leg. The strength she had was nothing short of miraculous. Anton grabbed her shoulder, despite being in her battle trance she only glanced at him before looking away. Her shoulders began to tense before she shook her head and blinked hard.

“I...Anton! You're alive! Thank goodness.” Cetina dropped her shield and held his head with both hands, pressing her metal-plated forehead against his own. A strange laugh escaped her lips. “When you fell-You’re hand!”

Cetina relinquished her hold, her face contorting into a wince. “What happened to your hand?! Oh no. They’re going to kill me.”

“The hell are you worried about? Don't worry about me.” Anton felt Cetina's strength begin to give way. Anton pointed to her armour. “Worry about yourself for just one bloody second. You’ve got bolts jutting out of you! How are you not down? You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

Cetina didn’t acknowledge his concerns at all, instead focusing her attention on his hand. She said nothing as the seconds ticked on.

Anton looked to his stump. Up close it looked like the interior of a white crystal geode.

“I’m alive, Cetina. We’re alive. That’s what matters most.” Anton grabbed one of the bolts jutting out of Cetina’s leg. “But we need to get this out of you first. How you’re not on the ground is beyond me.”

“Right…” Cetina prepared to rip the crossbow bolts out when she looked to him again, the lines of worry and concern once again creased her face. “It got your face too.”

“Is that what it was?” Anton ran his fingers over the abnormal feelings on his face. “We’ll deal with that later. I’m still more concerned with being alive.”

Through his glove, he could feel the small cubes that had bonded with his flesh, but hadn’t drilled through it. The fat man hadn’t received anywhere near the same damage as even Anton. Either that or his connection to the White Realm negated some of the attack.

“What do we do?” Cetina continued to stare at his hand.

“Just-Just…Fuck’s sake, Cetina.”

Anton pressed his boot against her own and, before she could question or worry about him further, ripped the bolt out with all his might. Cetina gasped in pain, gripping his shoulder so hard he felt that she might crush his bones. A tear-filled eye, tears running underneath her eyepatch, stared back at him but offered no rebuttal.

“One down,” Anton mumbled. “Five more…”

“I’m fine. Keep going.” Cetina’s grip tightened as Anton ripped out the second. “I…I’m not fine.”

Cetina used Anton to slow her descent onto her rear. “I took a lot more damage than I thought.”

“No wonder you wanted that tower shield.” Anton mused.

Cetina winced in pain. Now she was free of the trance everything came back in full force. “Yeah...I, I can't move my right leg.”

“Just give me a moment and I'll have them out.” Anton gripped another shaft tight, other others had just punched through but this had dug extremely deep. “This is really going to hurt.”

Cetina grit her teeth for the inevitable burst of pain. She grunted as Anton ripped the bolt free. Underneath the blood Anton saw a blue metal forming the tip. The others were simple steel-tipped bolts, but that was poor comfort to Cetina right now. Anton hurriedly removed the last of the bolts from her body and healed her. Cetina took a deep breath as the wound closed.

“The new armour you bought me is ruined.” Cetina tapped the hole on the side of her waist. “A bit higher and it could have been really bad.”

Cetina held the Chelium bolt. “This could have gone through my heart…”

Something flashed over her face. Cetina bolted up and held Anton’s arm tight, holding the white cube covered stump up high. “This is…No. You wouldn’t…What do we do about this? And your face?”

“I can still use magic.” Anton flexed his remaining hand. “And that’s all I need to worry about right now…It’ll be really annoying if I only have one hand…”

Cetina let go of his arm and looked to the corpse-filled alleyway. She sighed, her shoulders drooped. “I could see you fighting, fighting for your life, but I couldn’t help you. I screamed at myself to move…”

“Later, Cetina.” Anton pinched her cheek. “We’re still fighting, right? And if you’re my bodyguard you don’t have time to worry about what happened, only what we can do now.”

“Yes!” Cetina’s slightly depressed state evaporated instantly. She gripped her fist tight and recovered her shield. It had taken a light battering, pain chipped and new bright marks where the weapons and bolts had struck but otherwise, it was in one piece.

“Where did that Messenger go? Left or right?”

“Right.” Cetina pointed across the kitchen tents. “Deeper into the camp. Do you think that's a good idea? On his part?”

“Maybe. Make it look like he's fleeing the fight rather than being involved...We are surrounded by grasslands at the moment. Now,” Anton turned back to the tent. “We need to have a little chat with my new friend.”

Cetina nodded and entered the tent first. Anton couldn't find the hand-less young man. There was no way he could just crawl out and with the amount of blood he had lost he was only a minute or two away from death, if he had woken up after being kicked that hard in the head. It's not like Anton was completely clueless on who ordered the attack, he wanted to know how they managed to get in.

“Blood.” Cetina gripped his shoulder. “Blood trails leading outside.”

Two small trails led out of the tent, about the width apart if we were dragged out by his collar. There were no bloodstains on the cloth so someone had grabbed him.

“No loose ends.” Anton murmured. “No. That’s not right. If they just killed him it would all be over, unless they thought that I could resurrect the dead. They might think that after seeing my fight with Caiden…”

Cetina prevented him from going first, pulling the tent cloth apart with her blood-stained sword. An older woman stood outside, jumping at the sight of a bloodied sword emerging from a tent.

“Oh. There are more of you.” She said softly. “What's happening over there? Is someone attacking the camp from the inside?”

“Was there someone just dragged out of here?” Anton tapped Cetina's shoulder and pointed forward, to keep an eye on the woman, just in case. “Someone without arms and bleeding heavily?”

The woman nodded, holding the hem of her skirt tight. “There was. Two Knights dragged a man out. He...He was missing his hands?”

“Which-”

The woman pointed to the north, to where Anton and Cetina were originally travelling.

“I think they went right after the tents. He didn't look like he was in a good way.”

“It'll be even worse when I'm done with them,” Anton growled.

Though the thought tether he brought the summons back. The Lightning Crow hovered over his head while the Fire Imp ran back through the opened tent to join them.

“A demon?” The woman was on the verge of a panic attack, her knuckles white from fear.

“No,” Anton said calmly. “What colour were the Knights?”

“They-They wore cloaks. It was a light colour-”

Anton pushed Cetina forward, not having time for the woman to slowly remember a simple colour, and created another two Lightning Crows. It felt so good to have his power, his magic, back. He wouldn't forget the sense of helplessness in a long time.

The blood trails quickly began to grow weaker along the trampled grass the further they travelled. A body only had so much blood in it after all, and most remained inside the torn tent. The thoroughfare beyond swarmed with people, mainly soldiers, running towards the site of their initial battle. It was a motley display of various groups all arguing with one another over who should be in command. To them, they had come across an alleyway full of murder victims and coming from, what they probably thought, a large group of infiltrators attempting to disrupt their advance on the capital, not the site of a thwarted assassination attempt.

Through the chaotic swirling masses, Anton spotted an oddity. Two Knights, wearing yellow armour, walked together, between them they dragged something heavy along the ground. Every so often someone stepped in their way, everyone else gave them a wide berth, and one waved them to the side.

“Hey!” Anton yelled, his voice cracking slightly. “Stop!”

He couldn’t think of anything better to say. Cetina ran in front, pushing confused soldiers and civilians hard out of the way, while Anton ordered his Lightning Crows to intercept. The Yellow Knights glanced up as the Lightning Crows flapped angrily in their faces. Normally the creatures were utterly silent, apart from their beating wings even when raining death from above, but now they squawked and swooped at the Knights. It was enough for Anton and Cetina to catch up.

Anton recognised the Yellow Knights, part of the Yellow Strikers Order that had travelled with Duchess Belinda. Their faces were foreign to him but he didn’t speak to them once during their travel. Between them they held the handless young man, his skin had turned pale from blood loss and his stumps no longer leaked blood. Judging from his trembling lips he was still alive.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anton asked, standing slightly behind Cetina while ordering the Fire Imp to prevent anyone from attacking them from behind.

"We’re taking this man prisoner." The Yellow Strider said, his voice unusually flat, as if he was spending a huge mental effort to remain calm.

"Strange that you took him from an abandoned tent," Anton replied angrily. "One where we were still fighting and littered with dead bodies. Almost like you knew what was happening before it did."

Both shared a glance as they lowered the handless man. He began to babble unintelligible words as his breathing quickened to a ragged pant.

"Is it just you two or is it your whole order?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A small space grew around them, the Fire Imp snarled and waved its small blade menacingly to a surprisingly effective degree.

"But if he's really an assassin then there's no harm in letting him bleed out?" The second smiled. "I doubt he could talk much like this anyway."

Don’t know why you wanted him if you’re going to fold like that. Maybe you just know it’s not a good idea to keep pretending.

"You two must have heard the stories, that I can heal just about any wound? The people of Slihal surely told you about that, if you bothered to lower yourselves to their level."

"Who said he was an assassin?" Cetina asked softly. "When it could be a drunken fight that grew out of control."

Excellent point.

The Yellow Strikers glanced at one another, one’s hands slowly reached for something resting on his hip. A small bag, barely larger than his fingers, stained with patches of a thin red powder.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Anton said. “We’re a lot faster than-”

The Yellow Striker didn’t hesitate and threw the small bag. Cetina raised her shield but Anton created a small fire shield, just enough to encompass the small bag. The red powder ignited, producing a small burst of acrid smoke, which only served to irritate his nose rather than debilitate. In the few moments Anton was distracted the Yellow Strikes decapitated the handless man and one tried to flee, the other charging to attack Cetina. The attacker realised, only at the last second, that his companion had deserted him. Cetina stepped forward and deflected the strong blow into the ground. Stupefaction covered his face as Cetina punched him, hard in the throat. Though covered by armour the sheer impact was enough to stun the large man. He dropped his sword and reached for his throat as Cetina pushed again, throwing him back and onto the ground. Anton knew that it would take some effort to lift himself, more than he could muster with a damaged throat. The Small Lightning Crows swarmed around the fleeing Knight before striking him repeatedly with their weakest attacks. His body turned stiff and careened onto the ground, throwing up grass and dirt towards the stunned onlookers.

“Make sure he doesn’t get back up.” Anton patted Cetina’s shoulder. “Don’t kill him, but hurt him if you need to.”

Anton quickly checked the handless man for anything of value. Apart from another bag of red powder, so fragile it almost broke in his fingers, there was nothing. He still didn't understand why they tried to rescue this person over attacking or simply executing him in the first place. There were two people that could answer his questions.

"What is happening now?!" Someone shouted over the murmur of the crowds. “I thought we had dealt with all of the intruders.”

A Knight pushed his way through the crowds, one wearing the colours of the Blue Firestorm. Marcus frowned at Anton then to the men lying dead or stunned at his feet.

"What is this?" Marcus drew his sword, not aiming it at Anton, along with a small cadre of Knights, Blue Firestorm and Black Riders that pushed their way through. “What happened to your hand and face?”

"These two," Anton motioned to the two Yellow Striders. "Have some serious questions to answer."

“And your-”

"My Lord!" The Knight lying at Cetina's feet tried to rise to his feet. "These people-"

"Stay down!" Cetina struck him hard in the chest back, sending the bright Yellow Knight back onto the lightly churned grass.

"I take it you heard the noise?"

Marcus's eyes fell on the three Small Lightning Crows, standing silently on the ground, ever so often jerking their heads like a bird looking for prey.

"No way we couldn't. Left Castor and Bernard with King Leo for protection..."

A young Black Riders squire ran around the edge of the crowd to Marcus, whispering in his ear.

"That close?"

"You found the bodies?" Anton asked softly.

"Yes...Multiple bodies. Quite a blood bath." Marcus looked at Cetina's bloodied blade. “And not all from magic. Why is that?"

"Ghlyirl," Anton answered calmly. "You understand what that does to mages, yes?"

"I have seen it. Which means-"

"They were well supplied and knew what they were doing." Anton lightly kicked the shocked Knight. "Prepared to deal with troublesome mages…I want to interrogate both of them. Somewhere secure. And there's someone running around with Chelium tipped crossbow bolts. They punched right through Cetina's armour so going through a King's skull wouldn't be too difficult."

Marcus didn't hesitate as he summoned and dispatched a messenger. If the assassins had failed in dealing with Anton, an important but not a critical target, they might decide to take a serious gamble to end the civil war, doubly so now that Leo would be in one location. Of course, it didn’t explain why he hadn’t tried to kill King Leo to begin with. At least the camp wouldn’t have been alert.

"I certainly hope they'll keep their heads down." Anton knelt by the armless and now headless man. "But I don't think they will. Now, why were you two so eager to bring him back?"

"Take these two to the supply area," Marcus ordered. "Make sure they don't manage to kill themselves. Gag them if you must."

"I'll hold you and your order responsible if they do," Anton said softly, unaware that his voice now sounded like ice. "They tried to kill Cetina and myself, so you can imagine that I’m really, really annoyed right now. And everyone could be a suspect in aiding these cretins."

Marcus remained silent but sent a look that he understood. The Yellow Strider Knights were taken away, a Knights holding each limb, and the crowd was forcefully dispersed. Those nearest to the kitchen, and the body littered alleyway behind, were the last to go.

"Find the cooks as well," Anton ordered the Knights. "If they aren’t already dead. They were a part of this as well. I’ll force it out of them."

"They've all gone." A soldier yelled. "But we've found some more bodies, hidden behind some of the supplies. Looks like they killed the old cooks and took it over."

"You have some serious security issues," Anton said softly.

"With a camp this large and this many people...They could easily bring in a few of those Stitch Soldiers if they wanted to. I’m glad they didn’t."

Anton brushed his waist, his fingers felt the cut in his armour and the scale ridges beneath. "I don't think they're here."

Cetina held his shoulder until he smiled back but she still looked extremely worried.

"They wanted at least the body..." Anton looked at Marcus's Blue Firestorm emblem on his chest. "Do the Knight Orders have something on them, like tattoos or markings? Something unique to each order?"

"Some do." Marcus hesitantly approached. "We have a tattoo on our backs."

Cetina kept him well within her sight and refused to sheath her sword, Anton wondered if she could win against the older Knight. He clearly had much experience in war and could still lead an entire Order, even when his replacement was no slouch.

"I wonder where the Yellow Striders have theirs."

Anton flipped the headless body over, Cetina helped as it was surprisingly difficult to move with only one hand, and ripped off his blood-stained shirt.

"Are..." Cetina's voice wavered ever so slightly. "Are you sure you want to do this here?"

"He's not worried." Anton slapped the dead man's stomach. He was relatively well built, for someone so young. "Besides, I dissected a Goblin in front of half of the village. Probably didn't help convince them I wasn't crazy."

"Yes. They told me about that."

"A Goblin?" Marcus mused.

“And just in case someone disposes of the body before I’ve had a good look at it.” Anton glanced to Marcus but neither said anything.

No marks or tattoos adorned the man's front. As they flipped him back over Anton noticed a small tattoo, barely larger than his thumbnail, on his upper right shoulder. The small black mark reminded Anton of a kaleidoscope, at least a small fraction of one. From the blot small lines grew, evidence of plans for a larger tattoo, for when the man ascended the ranks, which would now never come to fruition.

"If this isn't one." Anton tapped the mark. "Then I'm very confused. I'd like to a look at the backs of the Yellow Striders."

"Could be theirs." Marcus mused. "Never had much to do with them, too far south."

Cetina lightly tapped his side with her shin. She had the same thought he did.

"I'd like to have a look at yours too." Anton smiled, the expression was not reciprocated. "Just to make sure, of course. I wouldn’t feel comfortable if I didn’t know."

Chapter 146 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - The King's Subterfuge

Chapter 146 Pt.2:

"It's certainly different." Anton held his chin in contemplative thought. "This is more of a flame than a series of overlapping hexagons."

"See?" Marcus craned his head back. "I'm not a part of this."

"I didn't really think you were but I had to make sure. And your Knight here has the same mark too."

Marcus shrugged lightly and put his thick gambeson back on. Despite his age, he wouldn't have been considered too old on Earth, he was in superb condition. So too was the other Blue Firestorm Knight. It would be strange if they weren't; swinging swords and running and riding in heavy armour would simply not allow it any other way.

"They have the same mark." Cetina said. She remained to the side of the two bound and topless Yellow Striders, keeping her sword levelled with their throats. "Same as that other one."

"How dare you treat us like this!" A Yellow Strider Knight yelled, straining against his bonds. "We are Knights of Qaiviel! Common filth, like you, have no business even touching us, let alone imprisoning us like some vagabond bandit-"

"You need to be quiet." Anton directed the Fire Imp to stand just in front of his leg. "Or I'll let him have his meal of your throat."

Both Knights recoiled. The summons didn't need any physical sustenance, they received everything they needed from Anton, but he had not tried it. Perhaps they would grow in strength, ascend another level if they devoured enough living flesh. Or they could become an abomination. Anton didn't particularly want to find out.

"You would send one of those things to eat us?"

"Yes."

Everyone fell silent, until Marcus tapped his armoured boot.

"So what are we doing? That crossbowman," He glanced to Cetina's damaged armour. "Is still on the loose. No one has found him yet. And I don’t like having just one enemy running about, with impunity, in this camp."

"It's a big camp. With a lot of places to hide. Truth be told I'm not sure what colour his hair was."

"Brown." Cetina answered. "At least I think it was."

"Maybe I can use Tethra's ability to look back into my memories..."

Anton didn't finish his thought. He might find the source of his blocked, static filled, panic inducing memories. They were blocked for a reason.

"Let's get this started then."

Anton approached the more boisterous of the two Knights. He moved as far as his bonds would allow, almost to the point of lying flat along the ground to avoid Anton's hand, the other remained perfectly quiet to avoid being noticed. Cetina kicked the man in the back to right him against the wooden pole. Anton gripped the man's head and chanted a truth prayer.

"Fucking scum!"

"No one likes losing control over their mind. But then again." Anton kicked him in the nose, raking his boot down and ripping apart the skin. "But I don't like someone trying to kill me either."

The Knight coughed and sputtered blood as it ran down his face and back through his nose. As Anton still only had one had he couldn’t hit him that hard but it was enough to break cartilage. Cetina grunted something but refuse to elaborate when Anton spared her a glance.

"Now that you're behaving better, who ordered you to kill us?"

"I don't know." The knight desperately wiggled, to be free of Anton and his magic, both in vain. "We weren’t told to kill anyone at Leo’s side, that was the assassin’s job. We were told to make sure none survived."

"The assassins?"

"Yes."

"Cleaning up is important." Anton shrugged. "Cuts off any links back to the plotters. Maybe even cut down costs...literally and figuratively...I wonder if there's a word for that?"

The Knight spat at Anton, the bloody spit struck his leg but Anton wasn't too worried. If anything the Knight grew more nervous, his companion remained perfectly silent and still.

"Regardless, who ordered you to clean up? To kill the other assassins after their job was done?"

Cracking teeth filled the air but his resistance was of no use.

"Cardinal Abeau." Tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"How did he get into contact with you?” Marcus asked. “The Yellow Striders are far from Clausonne.”

Anton repeated the question. Again he resisted but the magic compelled him to speak.

"He sent messengers, disguised as recruits." The man's tears stopped. "He threatened our family and our order if we didn't."

Cetina bumped Anton's side.

"I know." Anton smiled. "I didn't ask that."

Both men's expressions fell.

"How much did he pay you? Or promised to pay? Rewards, what were they?"

"Three chests of gold. And a new Knight Order for each of us, loyal to the Church of the Holy Father."

"There it is.” Anton shook his head. “You just got greedy. Do you actually believe in the Holy Father?"

"No." He spat again, far more weakly this time. "Damn your magic to hell."

"In time. You mentioned three chests. I imagine there was one for each you. So who was the other one?"

"Our youngest brother. A Squire in the Yellow Striders."

"That's why you tried to rescue him when the plan failed, correct?"

The Knight glumly nodded.

"I think I have just about everything that I need. How many more Yellow Strider Knights know about this?"

"Just us. Just us."

“And do you know who the primary targets were? I might have considerable magic but there are people far more important to this rebellion that you didn’t target first. Like King Leo, for instance.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know who the targets were, we were told to be there by the assassins to help. They didn’t know that we were there to kill them once it was done.”

"So you can get the glory and avoid most of the suspicion. Thank you. I think we have enough now." Anton stood up and relinquished his touch. "You weren't the ones sent to kill me, per se, but your younger brother tried to finish the assassin’s job and paid the price. I wonder if you planned to throw his body into a cess pit, you couldn't just get anyone to heal him. Some brotherly love."

"Fuck you." There was no venom or strength left in him anymore.

"What do we do with them?" Anton asked Marcus. "Can't exactly let them go."

The Knight struggled against his bonds again. "You-"

Cetina punched him hard in the mouth. A bloody tooth became lodged in her mailed fist.

"I'm angry too, Anton."

"I..."

"A quick execution." Marcus gently nodded. "That's the best that they deserve. Traitor Knights do not live long."

"Can hardly send them to a prison." The other Blue Firestorm Knight finally spoke.

"I, wait." Anton ran back to the Knight, chanting the prayer again. "Do you have any idea who the Messenger, the man with the crossbow, was?"

"No."

"Any idea where he might be right now?"

"No."

"That's a shame. We're going to have to start the assault with some maniac loose in our lines. But while we're here."

Anton asked the other Knight the same questions. Unfortunately he knew as little as the first. There was nothing more to gain from either.

They'd probably be killed before they received their new Knight Order. And three? They expect for that to be paid for entirely by their benefactors? If it's too good to be true then it probably is.

"Do you want me to do it?" Cetina asked.

"My magic might be faster. A quick bolt to the head-"

"They'll kill you." The silent Knight spoke of his own volition. "You know that, don't you?"

"Just like they were going to kill you when you were done with us? Or simply let others kill you for free. Doesn't matter to them."

"They have hundreds of those creatures. Those strange things. And you've seen what one can do."

"A unique one." Anton smiled. "One that I, we, killed."

"They're going to get those women you drag behind you." The Knight sneered, Anton remained perfectly silent. "They'll find the little nest that you cower in, and they'll drag them out, kicking and screaming. If they're lucky they'll be killed or sold to Seocuria. If not they'll become part of the Crusading force, as relief-"

"Okay."

The Boisterous Knight burst into flames, kicking and screaming while flames consumed his body. Anton said nothing while he stared into the Silent Knights eyes, his were nothing more than dots staring at his brother slowly burning to death. Slowly. Very slowly. Anton kept the heat and strength as low as possible so he wouldn't die quickly.

"Keep going." Anton knelt down, never deviating his sight. "You were saying something about taking the people I care about, that I love, and turning them into comfort girls."

Anton jabbbed him in the forehead with his finger. “Keep going.”

"Help me!" The burning Knight screamed. The outer layer of skin had burned away, black lines crisscrossed his body as the flames drove deeper. An acrid smell of burning hair filled the air. Anton didn't know how the others were reacting, he simply didn't care right now.

"Well?" Anton tapped the Knight's leg. "Aren't you going to continue?"

"Stop it!" He struggled fruitlessly to pull himself free. "You're killing him!"

"Don't worry about that." Anton snapped his fingers in front of his face. "You worry about yourself. Now, please, continue."

"Kill me!"

"Well?" Anton ignored the desperate pleas. He grabbed the man hard around his throat. “Keep. Talking! Pointlessly threatening, like you-”

The burning Knight's screams suddenly stopped. A sword stuck out from his head, one with a bright blue Chelium edge. Cetina stared silently at Anton as she withdrew her blade, her vacant eye searched for something in his, a strange mixture of disappointment and concern.

Marcus and the Blue Firestorm knight shared a glance but remained quiet.

"A butcher like you-"

Anton threw a Lightning bolt into his head, killing him instantly. The spray of blood and viscera did not faze him.

"Is this normal?" Marcus whispered to Cetina. Cetina shook her head.

Anton said nothing, casting his eyes down and left the tent. He didn’t feel ashamed or remorseful but he didn’t like the look Cetina gave him.

The moment Anton stood outside he found himself overwhelmed by the smell of fresh air. Only then did he realise he had become strangely accustomed to the smell of burning human flesh. His eyes fell on a small group of Blue Firestorm and Black Riders Knights standing guard outside the tent.

"No sign of that Messenger?" Anton asked, forcing himself to ignore his actions just moments ago.

"No, my Lord." A Blue Firestorm Knight replied. "We have no idea where they are."

"Or how many are left." Anton mused. "Just a few insurgents can bring this entire camp to a nervous halt."

Cetina held Anton's shoulder tight. "It might just be him. But if we do find him we won't be doing everything you just did, alright?"

The Knights appeared rather confused; a female soldier was admonishing a Mage and her commander, but Anton agreed.

"I did go too far. But..." Anton didn't finish his thought, especially when Cetina looked at him with great concern and worry. What else did Verona and Kal tell her?

Marcus threw the tent flap open, the other Knight remained behind. "The Yellow Striders are innocent in this. Just these two, three, idiots. I doubt Abeau could buy off too many, the Church has almost no influence in the south east, so he probably got lucky. Who knows how much money they had to pay just to get these three?"

"Who is this Abeau?" Anton asked, Cetina finally relinquished her hold. "Someone powerful enough to put this together."

"A fat, little, power hungry bastard." Marcus scoffed. "With Harold on the throne he's essentially in command of the entire Kingdom."

"And knows how to make more of those creatures."

Cetina shook her head. "I never heard anything like that from my father, when he spoke of The Holy Father."

Marcus frowned at Cetina.

"My father was, but I'm not."

"I haven't heard of anything like that from their scripture.” Marcus gently scratched his beard. “But I don't need to be told to know that isn't right."

"I wonder how they discovered how to create those things." Anton placed his hand on his hip, the other he kept loose. He made a note to deal with that as soon as possible, alongside the scars on his face. "A number of inventions and discoveries were entirely accidental. I wonder what they were doing when they stumbled upon this?"

Anton shook his head, dispelling the images of unimaginable cruelty. He pursed his lips as he looked up and out into the camp. Something stood out amongst the movement of people. One was not. A young man stood to the side of a large tent pole while he stared intently at Anton. Anton slowly moved his eyes away, as to not look suspicious, and enchanted his vision.

"He's watching us." Anton said softly. "Don't look, but he's near a medical tent. If that's what that symbol means."

Marcus turned to look at his Knights, giving him view of the tent in the distance. "I'm not certain, but I think I can see someone. My eyesight isn't the best."

"He's in range of my Lightning Crows."

Anton turned back to the tent, almost vomiting from the visual distortion. All three remained near the dead Knight, bobbing their heads as they slowly walked around his limp feet.

"No one's going to be upset if they fly over the camp?"

"The Principle Mages we have know about you and your magic. It'll be fine."

"If I send all three that'll be suspicious. Can you have the other Knight open the other tent's flap?"

Marcus relayed the order. Anton ordered two of the crows out through that entrance and to land on his shoulders. The Messenger's fingers tensed, maneuvered himself to narrow his profile, but didn't leave.

Perfect.

The moment the rear flap opened the third crow darted out and took flight, flying low and between the tents to avoid being seen.

"Is it moving?" Cetina asked.

"Yeah. It'll be a little bit though. I'm just glad they didn't have a Mage with them. Talk. Talk amongst yourselves, so it doesn't look too suspicious."

Cetina and Marcus tried to speak normally, it was very awkward and essentially revolved around swords but it was enough that their lips were moving. Anton didn't know if the Messenger could read lips but it would, at the very least, confuse him into inaction.

"Got him."

A single lighting crack echoed through the air. The Lightning Crow floated over the Messenger's body as he twitched and spasmed, the lightning activating nearly every neuron in his body.

"Seize him." Marcus ordered. "We'll have you question him again. But-"

Cetina simply held his shoulder, staring silently into his eyes.

"Alright. I...I'm angry that they tried to kill me, us, but threatening those that I care about makes my blood boil. I don't know why..."

Marcus smiled. "It's not that uncommon. Regardless, let's see what this little whelp has to say."

---[]---

“So it was the same.” Anton mused quietly.

The Messenger lay before them, this time tied to a post in a different section of the camp, tears running down his face. He had offered no resistance, especially after many menacing torture implements were brought forth, not that it would have mattered in the face of Anton’s magic. The Messenger was no mage.

“A poor man bought with promises of wealth and glory.” Leo scoffed. “And he was dumb enough to think he would live afterwards. As if someone that killed a King would actually be rewarded.”

The Messenger refused to look anyone in the eye, instead staring at the ground in some attempt to try and mentally avoid his inevitable death. Being naked and covered in dirt didn’t help his mental state.

“But it’s fortunate that they failed.” Leo looked to Anton’s stump. “Though it appeared they got very close.”

Anton couldn’t help but agree. If there were more or better prepared…

“Something like this won’t be happening in the future.” Anton said adamantly. “I don’t want to lose this hand again.”

“Again?”

“I’ll work a way to get it back. But I don’t want to be in such peril like that again.”

“I can assure you that fleeing Clausonne was not a pleasant experience.” Leo signalled to a pair of Black Rider Knights. “Though I didn’t lose a hand in the process…Those white cubes. They look awfully similar to what you did to Caiden.”

“Another time.” Anton rubbed the lines running across his face. “I need to understand what happened myself.”

“I see…Magic is not easy, is it?”

“What’s going to happen to him?” Cetina asked.

Leo shrugged. “There is no more information to be gained. My sister is not involved, so we don’t have a new enemy, and I fully understand who’s targeting me. This vagrant from the border means nothing to no one, I doubt his family has much more than a simple farm and they do not deserve to be punished for their son’s stupidity. So…”

Leo waved his hand forward, the two Knights descended upon the hapless. No one said a word as the young man’s body was struck down. Only when the two returned to Leo’s side, wiping away the blood on The Messenger’s pile of clothes, did anyone dare speak.

“Your orders?” Marcus asked.

Bernard, standing just behind Leo, nodded once.

“Orders?”

“The threat, I believe Anton’s magical extracted confession, has been thwarted. For now at least. If I were Cardinal Abeau I’d throw every infiltrator I could at this camp.” Marcus nodded towards Anton. “It almost worked. Imagine if they had a hundred.”

Cetina frowned harshly. “There are still some missing. Like the cooks. I know you weren’t there but they were a part of it. It wouldn’t be too difficult to take up a crossbow and aim it at one of us.”

Marcus thought deeply on Cetina’s words, Cetina found herself slightly embarrassed by her minor outburst, only if Leo were to decide her words constituted such a thing.

“It will be difficult, probably impossible, to track them down. I’m sure Anton could interrogate everyone but we simply don’t have the time.”

Leo held his chin, the other his elbow. Anton was already finding the lack of appendages rather annoying. He continued to reach out and stand as if it wasn’t gone, something he planned to fix very shortly.

“Keep advancing on Clausonne.” Leo ordered. “After another search of the camp. I think our mage needs a chance to recuperate.”

“If it’s necessary I can always leave and return to the army on the move.” Anton offered.

Leo shook his head. “No. It’ll take some time to get everyone ready to move. We should have been long gone by now but everyone’s still on alert and ready for further attacks.”

“That’s going to remain long after we’ve taken Clausonne.” Marcus dryly added.

“So take a short break.” Leo motioned to Anton’s hand. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix that but do what you must. We need everyone in their best condition.”

To be fair I probably don’t need arms or legs. Cetina, or someone like Rasha, could carry me on their back and I’d still be just as effective. Maybe more so, since I won’t have to worry about walking.

“Can’t have one of our most important assets critically wounded.” Leo smiled. “You are alright, aren’t you?”

“Apart from the hand and my face, I am.”

Cetina gave him a long look, one that Leo didn’t fail to catch.

“Do whatever you need to, Anton.” Leo’s face turned oddly serious. “And…I’m glad that you survived.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

At least we’re acting a little better than before.

Leo pointed to the corpse. “Someone drop that thing outside of the camp. Leave it to the wolves and crows. It’s more than he deserves.”

A Blue Firestorm Knight shrugged and hauled the corpse out of the tent.

Leo sighed, running a hand through his head. “And it had all been going so well. I couldn’t, shouldn’t, have expected Harold to sit by and do nothing. Well, more likely Abeau to do nothing. Especially since we’re doing the same thing to his mages.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to launch something as big as this before we arrive at Clausonne.” Anton said. “A day or two isn’t enough to get more people in. I sincerely doubt you will be accepting too many more.”

“Speaking of.” Leo tapped his chin for a few seconds. “Do you wish to have some of our Knights to act as your bodyguards? Though Cetina, clearly, did extremely well a few extra hands will have likely prevented the entire attack. I doubt they could take on just a few more soldiers.”

“I must refuse your offer, your majesty.” Anton smiled. “After Clausonne has been retaken my attentions are needed elsewhere. And in the meantime I’m definitely going to increase my guard. However they would not be returning to Qaiviel Anytime soon, I must travel beyond this continent in order to continue my work.”

Leo slowly nodded. “Very well. You aren’t a part of the Qaiviel Kingdom after all. But, regardless, take care of yourself. It will be far more difficult to take the capital without you and your magic.”

Leo smiled and left, taking the majority of the Knights with him. Cetina breathed a sigh of relief to see the back of the King.

“Are Verona and Kal going to be enough?”

“Absolutely. Especially Verona. There’s no way that those men would have done any of this with her blood shards.” Anton rubbed the cubes embedded in his face. “But before we find them I’m going to need your help. Something that I can only ask you to do.”

Cetina frowned lightly, glancing down to his stump. “What do you mean?”

---[]---

“This is so bad.” Cetina grumbled. “What am I supposed to do exactly?”

Anton lay down on one of their beds, a simple laid out roll of thick cloth on the ground. While many others, those more important in the war camp, were afforded raised wooden beds Anton found these more than enough. During his time in the wilds, alongside Verona and Kal, their sleeping arrangements weren’t much better. Of course there was always someone soft and warm to hold but that was another point entirely.

“Just remove the cubes.” Anton said calmly. “Once they’re gone I’m sure that I’ll be able to heal myself back to normal.”

He raised his stump of a hand. “Though this one might be far more traumatic for you.”

Cetina slumped back. She sat next to Anton’s head, still in her armour and even her helm, and held an incredibly sharp scalpel and a pair of iron tweezers.

“Surely Verona or Kal would be better suited for this.” Cetina smiled faintly. “I don’t know how they’d like me poking around your face.”

They did try…

Anton gently shook his head, dispelling his wandering thoughts and trying to ignore how close they were to one another.

“I know that if they saw this.” Anton raised his stump wrist. “Especially this they’d freak out. Verona would be trying to fight anyone involved and Kal would be quite distraught. I don’t think that I’ve actually been this wounded in front of them before.”

“I think that might happen.” Cetina glumly nodded and sighed loudly. “I just wish that I wasn’t the one to do this.”

“You trust someone else?”

“Not anyone here.” Cetina spoke firmly. She tapped the hole in his leg armour. “Not after that.”

Cetina lightly slapped her cheek before raising the scalpel again and leaning close to his head. The blade wavered ever so slightly as she held it against Anton’s skin just to the side of the white cubes. With some effort the blade cut into his skin and began to slide along the edges of the cubes. While they hadn’t merged with his body per se, there were no pieces of flesh or strands of sinew entering the cubes, they were still stuck and couldn’t just be ripped out easily. A few blood stained cubes lay to Cetina’s side after quite a substantial amount of effort.

“How,” Cetina coughed and focused herself. “How are you not shouting, or even making any noise as I do this? I’m…I am cutting you!”

“I know the pain is for a good cause.” Anton tried to use as few facial muscles as possible while Cetina was digging around his face. “And it’ll be over soon.”

“There’s a lot here.” Cetina sighed. “And it goes pretty deep in some places. I really don’t know what I’m doing. Can you not feel them, grinding against the bones in your face?”

“Honestly no. I can feel them but they just feel sweet.” Anton waved his normal hand. “Keep going, otherwise it’ll actually start to become an issue. Maybe just from blood loss.”

“Might be better to have Verona do this then.”

Cetina slowly began to cut away at the flesh and pull the cubes free. Every so often she would dab away the blood, a small pile of blood rags quickly grew as she worked in silence. Anton was glad to have someone with extremely good eyesight, at least in one eye, as Anton could see she was taking the absolute minimum cuts before pulling the cubes free.

After some time Cetina leant back, trying in vain to wipe away the sweat on her forehead with her metal arm guard. She frowned before Anton handed her a small piece of clean cloth.

“Thanks.” Cetina loudly exhaled. “Right, that’s one done. Do you want to see if it worked? So I don’t have to keep carving up your face? There’s a lot of blood that I missed.”

Cetina looked to the bed cloth near Anton’s head, stained deep red with blood.

“It might have to be done over a few days.” Anton smiled at a slightly concerned Cetina. “Otherwise you might kill me through blood-loss.”

Cetina sighed. “Verona might have better chances of stemming the loss of blood.”

A gentle wave of air managed to waft its way through a small crack in the tent cloth. The faint movement of air brought fresh air against his open would, but fresh burst of pain told him all the cubes were gone, not that he doubted Cetina. Still, it was better to be extra sure. As he didn’t have a mirror, Anton hadn’t seen his own face outside of a few pieces of polished metal and the occasional still pool of water, he could only use his fingers. He lightly dabbed at his bloody flesh, Cetina pulled an extremely worried face, but couldn’t find anything. It was almost impossible to miss such thing.

Anton chanted the healing prayer aloud, just to heal the fresh wound. The magic left his body as he felt his wound begin to close and heal. However Cetina continued to look on with worry.

“Some left?”

“No…No.” Cetina leant very close. “There’s still a mark...Like a scar. Quite a nasty one too.”

Cetina ran a finger of the horizon scar crossing her nose, a scar that she asked Anton to preserve. “I don’t think I left any of the cubes behind. Do you think there might have been some left?”

“There might have been some simply too small for even you to see.” Anton looked to the pile of blood stained white cubes. “But there’s quite a bit of flesh on those so I don’t think so.”

“I did my best.” Cetina winced. “It was so difficult…”

Anton rose up, gently waving away her concerns with his remaining hand. “It’s fine, just another thing that’s happened to me.”

Anton lightly tapped his boots on the bed. “Just like these. And this too…Kind of like everything strange has happened to me after meeting you, isn’t it?”

“You make it sound like I’m cursed.” Cetina’s shoulders drooped. “For a long time I thought I was. I certainly hope I’m not.”

“You’re not. But it kind of brings us to the next thing.”

“Which is?” Cetina’s eye flicked to his stump. “Oh…Oh no. I think I know what you want…”

“The Chelium edge should cut right through it.” Anton found himself almost smiling as Cetina’s face continued to grow more worrisome. “And then I’ll be able to heal it better. Well, I hope it comes better.”

“You want me to cut your arm off?”

“Only a part.”

“I-”

“It’s not going to be any good like this.” Anton waved it about, much to Cetina’s distress. “Just one quick cut and then it’ll be like new.”

Cetina sighed. “I still can’t believe how calm you are about this.”

“It’s easier to think about having my hand back.” Anton lightly rubbed the stump. “Though losing my wedding ring is a little annoying. You can still contact Verona and Kal, right?”

“Do you want me to? I really think I should before doing…” Cetina pointed to his stump. “That.”

“Not a good idea. They’ll definitely say no.” Anton stood up. “Unless they want to get Ferula’s help.”

Cetina grunted as she retrieved her Chelium edged sword. “I wonder if that little girl is alright. She could have been, if she allowed either you or Kal to heal her. It would have taken just a heartbeat.”

“Or the swing of a sword?” Anton chuckled and smiled, much to Cetina’s annoyance.

“Really…”

Anton rested his stump over the edge of a table and nodded at Cetina. She raised her sword, careful not to tear the tent cloth above them, and gave a final concerned look. Anton merely replied with a nod; there was no immediate way to restore his hand and it would only be a few centimetres at most of a useless arm.

“This is going to be difficult.” Cetina’s shoulders relaxed. “Flesh won’t be so hard but you have bones in your arm. I might not be able to cut through with just one swing, and I don’t want to hack at it.”

“Just do it in one then. You’re starting to make me nervous.” Anton placed a wad of cloth in his mouth. “Just in case. And something else.”

Anton chanted a prayer to dull his senses. His entire body felt like it was under some kind of anaesthetic, enough to dull what was about to come.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

Cetina inhaled deeply, grit her teeth and swung the sword down with all the might her muscles could offer. Anton only caught a brief flash of blue cutting through his arm and striking the ground. For a moment he felt nothing, then a blinding burst of pain. Though incredibly sharp the sword could not make the cut painless. Anton bit down hard onto the cloth, nearly cutting through it entirely.

“Fuck.” Anton groaned, spitting the cloth free. “That hurts so much more than getting shot with a bolt.”

“Of course it does!” Cetina dropped the sword and held his arm tight as blood began to flow forth in great gushes. “I just cut off part of your arm.”

None of the white cubes remained on his body, the small disk of flesh lay on the ground, and Anton chanted a healing prayer through gasps. His mana behaved normally, out of a glowing white light his hand regrew. It was truly a unique experience, one he hoped not to repeat. As the light faded and his hand returned, minus his wedding ring, both could only frown.

“That’s…”

Cetina tapped her finger on his wrist, where the layer of white cubes once lay. While most of his hand was back, alongside the three small marks of his gods, his wrist was not. A thick scar now ran around his wrist, gnarled and raw. Annoyingly it didn’t disappear with a subsequent attempt at healing.

Anton sighed, rubbing the scar tissue. “Must be like my feet and tail. Can’t be fixed. Guess I'll be wearing gloves until I can fix this properly.”

Anton flexed his fingers, his very bones groaned and creaked, like his bones were now tiny cubes grinding amongst themselves. Anton couldn’t determine if his bones had actually been replaced but it was noticeably difficult to move his fingers and brought him some pain. The pain and impediment didn’t dissipate with a third subsequent healing.

“Just another thing to irritate me…”

“What did Ferula say?” Cetina held and gently massaged his wrist. “That you’re soul, or whatever, has been changed. Do you think that’s what that type of magic does? Corrupts the soul?”

“Maybe.” Anton shrugged. “Ferula said that it couldn’t be undone.” Anton sighed again. “Looks like this is permanent. Again. At least for now.”

Cetina raised a brow.

“Surely there exists a way to undo this, somewhere in this world. There is a God of Time, after all. Just a matter of finding where that answer might lie. There might be something in the magic that caused this. Maybe.”

“Maybe…But.” Cetina shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough of mutilating my charge for today. I think you should have some rest.”

“I feel fine.” Anton smiled. “We’re going to break camp soon anyway. We can’t just be sitting here waiting, even though we aren’t the one’s who will pull down this tent.”

Cetina held his arm. “I really think you should. And not just because of the wounds.”

“I…” Anton felt his shoulders droop underneath Cetina’s worried stare. “Okay. If my bodyguard says so then I’ll do it.”

---[]---

Cetina watched the moment Anton fell asleep. The frowns, creases and muscles contorting his face fell limp, his breathing calmed as his head turned to one side. Right now he looked exceedingly calm, the complete opposite of what he had become, multiple times in just one day. The kind and somewhat strange man had disappeared in an instant, consumed by an unnatural cruelty and desire to inflict suffering. Anton had, at least before, tried to keep himself detached; leaving her father to deal out justice to the bandits attacking their caravan when they first met, leaving the strange fanatical city in Graterious without interfering and keeping calm in the heart of Danafra. She expected him to be angry, she was too, but not to such a level. There was no need to burn someone alive while taunting the other.

“I thought you were about to hit me with magic.” Cetina barely spoke above a whisper. “When I killed that man, stopping you from torturing his brother. That you actually wanted to hurt me. But I know you wouldn't...”

Cetina gently stroked his forehead with the back of her hand, it was covered in a thin layer of sweat brought on by Cetina’s actions. She stood up, acutely aware at how noisy her metal armour was despite her efforts to move silently, and dampened a towel with water. When she returned Anton was mumbling something. At first she thought it merely the incomprehensible ramblings of someone's dreams but these were actual thoughts.

“I'm sorry.” Anton mumbled.

Cetina smiled faintly, gently dabbing away the worst patches on his face.

There's nothing to be sorry about. I think most people would simply-

“I’m so sorry.” Anton's voice was nothing more than a whimper. “I didn't mean it.”

Cetina removed the damp cloth. He wasn't talking about the fight. No, it was something far more painful than that. Tears began to weep from his eyes.

“It, it wasn't meant to be like this. Why? Why did you have to come here?”

What are you saying?

“Why didn't you just let me rot? Like I...Deserve.”

Anton said nothing more, only weak sparse whimpers escaped his lips until he fell completely silent and escaped whatever nightmare consumed his slumbering thoughts.

Verona mentioned this to me one night, I think she was a little tired and bored. He never talked about his past, otherwise he has those panic attacks and yet...

Cetina pursed her lips.

Do I tell them? And what would I say? What could they do? What can I do?

Cetina sighed, resting her head in her hand and looking at the source of her current dilemma.

I'm certain you would know what to say in times like these. You knew what to say to me so I didn't fall into despair and the bottle.

Cetina simply watched Anton sleep peacefully, completely unaware of the worries now plaguing her thoughts.

Chapter 147 - Vol 4 - Light Surgery

Chapter 147:

“I’ll kill those bastards!” Verona clenched her hand, pulling the blood blade from Anton’s face. “Every last one of them! A bunch of ingrates and degenerates that dared to try and kill…”

Verona’s teeth audibly cracked. “I’ll strangle their stubby little throats, I’ll-”

“Can we please talk about this when you don’t have a blade close to my face?” Anton reached out to Verona. Her legs continued to shake in a mixture of anger and fear.

Verona sighed and closed her eyes. The red light permeating through her body, shining through the red tattoos covering almost half of her body, flashed brighter for an instant as she resharpened the blade in her hand, made from his blood. She sat next to Anton’s side while he lay on the grass, so the spilt blood wouldn’t need to be cleaned, right by his head while holding a thin blood blade in her hand. So far she had removed half of a line of cubes from his face. But there were still many more to go.

“When I saw that…” Verona loudly exhaled, flexing her free hand. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Nothing good, I know that.”

“I thought you might have lost your magic,” Kal spoke softly, fighting back a sniffle. She hadn’t cried but had spent quite some time on the verge. Only when Anton told her to sit by his side, and demonstrated that he could still use his magic, did she begin to calm down.

“Me too. If it was my other hand…”

“I did my best.” Cetina stood to the side, keeping her attention firmly planted on the locked door back into their house, the only place someone could come through. “There were just so many.”

“I’d never blame you for this.” Anton looked to the bloody pile of white cubes. These were cleaner than those removed by Cetina but there was no way to remove them without eliciting some blood.

“I can’t believe this happened in the first place.” Verona began cutting again, constantly glancing to Anton for any sign that she was inflicting too much pain. “Leo, King Leo, whatever he wants to call himself, is a pretty shitty king. If what he’s done so far is anything to go by.”

Anton hadn’t told her about Leo’s inquiries about her. And he probably wouldn’t either.

“So far he’s doing alright.” Anton kept his face from moving much. That alone gave Verona some comfort that she wasn’t hurting him. “I don’t think he’s pressed people into his service or stolen from the people. So far we’ve had a string of victories…Except for this little incident.”

“Little?” Verona and Kal asked simultaneously.

“I’m alive. Aren’t I?”

Verona shook her head and continued her work in silence, muttering silent words under her breath.

Anton couldn’t have this surgery performed in Qaiviel; King Leo’s army continued to march hard on Clausonne, not only to deal with Harold and The Church of The Holy Father before they could create and unleash more creatures like Caiden, but Anton felt that it had more to do with her sister. Lila, Queen Lila, apparently had made confidence in taking Clausonne, a city that even Leo, with vastly higher numbers of soldiers and Knights, and with Anton’s assistance, had to create extensive plans while taking subterfuge actions to weaken their defences. Perhaps it was a bluff of some sort, but Anton doubted she would just wait until Leo took the city first. She wanted her half of the Kingdom for herself. And it sounded like she had the forces and will to do it. Anton didn’t like the chances of a second civil war not erupting the moment Harold was defeated.

“So…” Kal coughed, her exposed Beast-kin hands gripping tight on top of her legs. “Are they all dead?”

“More or less.” Anton received a concerned look from Verona. “Some cooks managed to escape, but they were just goons. More or less. I doubted they were told anything more than to make a lot of noise when they were given the signal.”

Kal held Anton’s hand tight. Though the inside of her hands were rough pads he could feel her warmth leaking through. “How…How much did it hurt?”

“I’m fine, Kal.” Anton returned the light squeeze. Thankfully it was his original hand, otherwise he would have undoubtedly pulled a strange face as the sensation of his new bones, cubes grinding against one another, wasn’t pleasant. “I’ll admit it hurt a lot. But I was only hit with a single crossbow bolt. When I lost my hand I didn’t feel a thing-”

Verona stopped cutting and gently held his mouth. “Please stop moving if you have to talk. I’m worried about cutting too deep.”

“None are on my throat. Besides, it was you that cut my beard before.” Anton rubbed the long hairs covering his face. “Probably need another one.”

“Whatever did this it also cut through those.” Verona sighed. “Damage that Tethra and even Ferula can’t fix…It’ll be a great weapon. If you can master it and not hit yourself.”

“Or us,” Cetina added quietly.

“Yeah…” Verona leant close, inspecting Anton’s scar. “But I’ve got to say, that this is kind of handsome. Makes you look tough, like you’ve been…Well, you have been in a battle.”

“Not just me though.” Anton smiled at Cetina. “Someone took a lot of bolts intended for me.”

Cetina was about to mumble something, probably that she wasn’t a meat shield, but she held her tongue and smiled.

“Thank you.” Kal bowed her head. “Thank you for keeping Anton alive.”

“I’m just sorry that I couldn’t save all of him.”

“Bah.” Anton waved down Cetina’s concerns, not that she looked overly. “I’m still alive. We’re still alive. And that’s what matters most.”

The room fell silent as Verona continued her bloody work. Anton lay perfectly still as cube after cube came free while Verona watched him for signs of pain and discomfort. It was painful, extremely so, but Anton had never had a problem with pain. When he told Cetina that the intent of the pain was important that was only partially true. Being stabbed or shot didn’t bother him, it hurt but he didn’t ever feel the need to scream and roll about.

Why is that? Did…Did I cry when I lost my finger to that dog?

A wave of static laced memories tried to consume his thoughts. Verona immediately stopped, noticing his increased heart rate. Anton smiled and motioned for her to continue.

That’s ‘sealed’ away too? What isn’t? Is my name actually Anton? I don’t even remember the year that I was born…No. Stop thinking about this for now.

Anton spared a glance to Verona, every ounce of attention focused on the knife cutting through his flesh.

Especially when I’m being cut apart.

After what felt like an age Verona finally removed the blood blade and nodded to Kal. A quick chant later and Verona patted his chest. Anton brought his right hand, the hand that didn’t feel like it was somehow made from tiny cubes, and ran them along the new scars running lines across half of his face. While he didn’t have a mirror he wondered if it actually looked like he’d been in a fight; perhaps a fight with a wild animal that took a swipe at his face and lived to tell the tale. Perhaps that would change the impression he gave others, not that he thought his current face was that bad.

“What do we do-”

“I can’t believe this even happened.” Verona cut Anton’s question short. “I mean, why didn’t King Leo give you like...A hundred guards?”

Verona sighed, directing most of the controlled blood away, removing most of the blood from his face, and relinquished her control. “I know that we’re still posing as mercenaries but, since we’re so important to his reconquest…If it weren’t for us he probably would have lost nearly everything against Caiden. Did he even thank you for that after I left?”

“We got a suit of armour for Cetina.” Anton pointed to the shield and sword resting against the door. “But that was from-”

“Not him?” Kal raised a brow, her ears drooping down.

“Sort of. But I’m sure that we’ll get something good from it.” Anton pulled himself upright. “Beyond the money we’re receiving as mercenaries. Besides, to him at least, we’re only doing our job.”

Verona scoffed. “And a damn good job of it too, if you don’t mind me saying. And I will anyway.”

Verona stood up, brushing away the loose pieces of grass. “Save his entire army and not even a decent thank you. No point in regretting about what happened. Right?”

“That’s one way to look at it.” Anton forced a smile. “But I don’t want this to happen again.”

Anton readied to stand up but Kal stopped him, resting a hand on her shoulder and pulling a worried face.

"You still have blood on your face." Kal's voice was almost a whisper. "A lot of blood."

Anton had, half-jokingly, told Cetina that Kal would descend into panic and worry. He didn't mind being fawned over but not when they were so clearly distressed, in their own way.

Then again, if I saw either of them like me I'd be in a panic too...Probably quite angry. Too angry, just like before.

Anton glanced to Cetina as Kal began to dab away the stray flecks and dried lumps of blood. Cetina didn't understand and simply gripped her sword tighter. Her original sword, gifted by her father and containing a Ghlyirl key, was still with King Leo's army.

"Your wedding ring is gone?" Kal asked, gently holding her own as she continued to clean. Anton saw Verona do the same.

"I'm afraid so. That's why Cetina had to contact you. Since it wasn't a part of me, and I have no idea which of the cubes belong to it, I can't bring it back."

Kal stopped trying to clean away the blood and rotated the ring on her finger. Slowly a smile crept up the corners of her mouth. "It's just a piece of metal. What matters are the feelings behind it."

Verona folded her arms, closed her eyes and nodded seriously.

"Speaking of cubes." Verona lightly kicked the bloody bundle at her feet. "Do we really want to keep these?"

"Where are the others?" Kal turned to Cetina. "The ones you removed earlier?"

"Still with the army." Cetina appeared unnaturally stiff. "Wrapped in cloth and stashed at the bottom of a small barrel. I-I didn't know what else to do with it."

Kal nodded once before turning her attention back to Anton. Cetina visibly relaxed, a reaction Anton felt was a little unnecessary.

"Do they burn?" Verona asked. "The other ones just blew away in the wind, into a billion little pieces and disappeared. But not these."

"I'll give it a go. If not we'll just have to stick it into that barrel and hide that somewhere in Atros."

Anton pulled himself to his feet, staggering to one side. Immediately six hands rushed to his side, all belonging to extremely worried faces.

"I'm fine." Anton smiled. "I think my foot fell asleep."

"Has any of that changed?" Verona looked down to his legs. "Those scales had travelled quite far..."

"I've checked and everything is the same as it was before, after I touched that stone. You've still got that hidden?"

Cetina nodded, taking a step back. "It's still inside that box...In my room."

Anton gently pushed the girls back and created a small fireball. The flames consumed the small pile of cubes but they resisted his magic for some time. Slowly, very slowly, the white cubes began to blacken and char, cracking and fragmenting before finally shattering. Along the fissures the tiny black fragments were caught in the updraft and carried away in the wind. Nearly three minutes later and the entire pile was gone, only an oily charred puddle remained as evidence of their passing.

“No wonder it took so long for Caiden to die,” Verona mumbled.

Kal nodded. “I…I’m almost a little glad I didn’t see that. Just a little. I don’t think I would have been much use.”

“Me neither,” Cetina mumbled. “If Knights couldn’t do anything against it what could I do?”

Kal smiled. “Cetina?”

“Yes?”

Kal lunged at Cetina, grabbing and holding the Bebbezzarian in a tight embrace. Cetina twitched still as she quickly realised why Kal was holding her so tight.

“Thank you.” Kal gave Cetina a final squeeze. “Thank you for keeping him alive.”

Kal wiped away a solitary tear. “I don’t know what I’d do if he hadn’t…”

Cetina bowed her head, not wanting to ruin the moment. Verona stepped forward and hugged Cetina as well, without the intensity and surprise. Verona tapped on her arm and brought Cetina’s head down, whispering something into her ear. Cetina nodded earnestly but refused to share. Verona smiled as she parted and returned to Anton’s side. It didn’t feel like her usual interference but she still seemed very happy with herself.

“Now that you’re…Mostly healed.” Cetina scratched her armoured elbow, moving the inner cloth to rub against her skin. “What’s the plan now? Do we return to the army? I’m sure the Dwarves would like to return home…I mean, to Atros.”

“I’m sure they’re being solicited for their smithing skills.” Anton mused. “But they’re definitely riding in the carts, they don’t seem like they walk, let alone run, fast enough to keep up with a human.”

“So…”

“We need to stop this.” Verona held Anton’s scarred wrist. “From happening again. We need people that can actually come with us…Rasha’s going to be basically impossible to get through, not that you aren’t tough, Cetina.”

“With you two, as well as Cetina, of course, I’m not that worried about more of those assailants. Not that I don’t think that extra help wouldn’t be amiss.” Anton held his chin. “Our…”

“What?” Verona tilted her head.

“Our involvement is going to be widely recognised.” Anton smiled. “It’s going to be hard to hide our presence; wearing our different clothes, close proximity to King Leo and our magic. Someone’s going to talk. And if it’s just us four then they’re not going to be able to figure out anything. We're just a bunch of vagabonds. But if they see a bunch of Dark Elves or Dwarves with us…”

“They could ask questions.” Kal held her chin and gently nodded, slowly her brows began to furrow. “But is that really going to be a problem? The Dark Elves are extremely…isolationist? And the Dwarves don’t really leave their Isles. So then they'll ask more difficult questions.”

"Like why Dragon Guard Dwarves are fighting in Qaiviel." Verona murmured.

Anton nodded. “I don’t want them to, firstly, get killed in battle for humans. I promised them safety and a place to live beyond the reach of their fellows, and that doesn’t mean throwing them into battle in a war that still might not actually make it to Atros. In the battle for Clausonne I don’t think they’re going to be much use to us other than a meat shield. And that’s not what I want either. I don’t want to have to explain how I managed to lose a hundred Dark Elves or Dwarves after bringing them so far. Besides, us four is going to be more than enough. If our magic can’t deal with the walls then a few dozen archers or lightly armoured Dwarven soldiers isn’t going to help. And…We have the Qaiviel soldiers to act as our shield, distasteful as it sounds.”

“Well.” Verona shrugged. “It is their war. But I do think that we should still make a little effort to strengthen your guard.”

“Can’t take a few hundred Dark Elves through Graterious or Bebbezzar.” Kal murmured. “Though we wouldn’t be attacked by bandits we’d attract other problems.”

“Indeed.” Verona smiled devilishly. “It is a bit of an issue. Thankfully, I have a good idea who can join your bodyguard, people that we might be able to trust, or perhaps earn, and can actually come with us on adventures in human lands. And not start a riot.”

“Calo and Sheso?”

“Oh…” Verona’s shoulders drooped slightly. “You’ve already asked them?”

Anton smiled. “Not yet. But Cetina had a similar thought before we were attacked.”

Verona pretended to pout, throwing her head back as Kal suppressed a laugh. “Well then, if it’s such a good idea then you can ask them. I’m sure those cute little twins will agree if you ask them nicely enough. More than happy enough to chat and flutter their eyelashes at you.”

“So long as they’re strong enough.” Cetina tapped her sword. “The assailants weren’t weak. Physically weak. And, last time I saw them, they were thin, young women that have been starving in their fortress for over a season. Would they be up to the tasks? Everything a bodyguard would need to do for you?”

Verona laughed. “That’s…I’m not even going to finish my thought.”

---[]---

“You want us to come with you?” Calo asked, glancing at her sister.

“Both of us.” Sheso scratched her long brown ear, jutting out from underneath her wavy jet black hair, a true rarity amongst the Dark Elves. “Into the lands of humans?”

“Absolutely.” Anton ran a hand over the fresh scars covering half of his face. “Dark Elves shouldn’t have a problem…although, because of the Green Moon Clan’s activities-”

“That wasn’t us!” Calo slammed her foot down hard, startling everyone present, mostly herself. “We’ve never attacked a ship or raided a fishing village before. Not that-”

“I understand.” Anton smiled. “I know that, and I’m sure that beyond the coast’s that might have been raided most people would only regard you with curiosity.”

Anton turned to Kal, standing to his side. “Rather than outright hostility.”

Rasha had not joined them; she was busy helping some construction work, she was the strongest person in Atros, and they wouldn’t be staying for long regardless of the outcome.

“Apart from your longer ears, you could pass as humans. Not that…” Anton coughed. “I was wondering if you two wanted to come with me, with us, as bodyguards.” Anton pointed to their waists. “I can see that you’ve each got two very impressive swords. And we watched you both, while you were training by yourselves, you have some impressive moves.”

Cetina nodded, she would know best. Calo and Sheso grew a little flustered, the tips of their brown ears took up a shade of red before both shared a quick glance and quickly calmed down.

“Are we really the best?” Calo asked, nervously scratching the back of her head. “I’m sure there are better, more experienced, warriors in our clan.”

“Or the humans.”

“Or the Beast…Oh. Right.” Calo winced slightly at Kal.

Kal blinked but her face remained unchanged.

“But us?” Sheso tilted her head. “Our clan are pirates, even if we’ve promised to change. They aren’t the most reliable...people.”

“Perhaps.” Anton shrugged. “But I need people by my side that I can trust.”

“Us?”

“Yes.”

I suppose I could use Tethra’s abilities to force it out, but then they probably wouldn’t trust me. I know my trust would be diminished. Perhaps a way for bad thoughts to enter my mind, corrupt my thoughts.

“Anton?”

Anton didn’t know which twin asked him, their voices were essentially identical.

“Sorry.” Anton rubbed his scars. “After getting this I’ve been a bit distracted. Having a near-death experience will do that to you.”

“Well,” Calo shrugged at her sister. “I’m sure that Leran and Cagec would agree. They want us to see more of the world. And this will be a great way to do that.”

“Especially since we won’t be a burden.” Sheso laughed. “We know how to handle ourselves in a fight.”

Haven’t actually seen you fight seriously. Getting surprised by that Goblin really doesn’t count now, does it?

“If I may.” Cetina stepped forward. “As the captain of your bodyguard, I hope I’m not overstepping my authority by saying this…”

Verona and Kal shook their heads.

“But, though you may be skilled with twin blades, I don’t know how strong you are.”

Calo frowned. “We’re strong. Strong enough to wield two swords at once.”

“But against another warrior, a soldier wanting to kill you?” Cetina pointed to their arms. “You don’t have the strength of a man…”

“Are you saying that we aren’t strong enough?” Sheso frowned alongside her sister. “Once we’ve been trained with the bow-”

“You still can’t?” Verona raised a brow.

“No…” Embarrassment drenched both of the twin’s faces.

“Perhaps we should-”

“Let us prove it.” Calo pumped her fist into the air. “We don’t have magic but I know that we’re strong enough. We’ve practised and trained for many winters. We’re more than ready.”

Some of that you spent starving, which would have set you back tremendously in the raw strength department.

The twins drew their short swords, twirling and spinning the shining blades effortlessly around their fingers. Verona looked rather impressed, Kal less so while Cetina kept her face flat.

Cetina moved close to Anton. “Their swings look very impressive but I don’t think they’ll do well in actual combat. If they fought any of those assailants, like that and with what I think their strength is, their weapons would be thrown out of their hands and killed. Their fingers are very slim.”

“We can hear you.” Sheso frowned angrily. “Our ears are very sensitive.”

“Leran says they’re almost as good as Beast-kin ears.”

“My…” Cetina coughed to hide her embarrassment. “My point remains. You might have the skill, but I still don’t think you have the strength. I struggled against some of the assailants...If it weren’t for my trance…”

“I’m sure we do.” Calo sheathed her blades. “I’m certain. Our instructor says we’re doing very well.”

Being Leran and Cagec’s children probably skews their impression. If they say you’re terrible they’ll get on their bad side…

“Well, we can’t stay much longer. Perhaps a quick demonstration would be best.”

The twins were quite happy with the idea, Cetina slightly less so. She had just survived a life or death battle just a few hours ago.

“Let’s get a few practice swords and see how they do.” Cetina tapped the pommel of her sword. “I don’t really want to draw this again so soon after that.”

---[]---

Anton partially expected the outcome. Cetina stood victorious, a wooden practice sword resting on her shoulder while Calo and Sheso lay sprawled on the ground, thoroughly beaten. He felt a pang of sympathy for the two; he too had been beaten multiple times by Cetina, though he managed to land a single hit only after multiple rounds. The twins had managed a few but Cetina’s concerns rang true.

They simply weren’t physically strong enough.

Though they had worked together, attacking Cetina from either side to divide her attention and avoid her single sword, Cetina could simply grab their weapons and rip them free. Anton had never seen such a face of stupefaction before.

“I…” Calo lay sprawled on the ground, wiping away the fresh sweat from her face. “How are you so strong?”

“Felt like I was hitting a stone wall.” Sheso pulled herself upright. “How are you so strong?”

Cetina shrugged, though she smiled at their perseverance. She stepped forward and took their hands, pulling them to their feet. The twins staggered up to their feet. Though thoroughly beaten they retained their dignity in the face of overwhelming defeat.

“I thought we might actually have a chance.” Calo’s ears dropped. “But I guess we’re just too young.”

“And weak.” Sheso looked to Cetina. “Dark Elves are normally quite thin and lithe, especially compared to humans-”

“And some Beast-kin,” Verona added very softly.

“-So I don’t think we’re going to be of much use as a potential bodyguard. At least for now.”

“Cagec wouldn’t let us go either.” Calo sighed, turning to the small crowd of Dark Elves that had gathered to watch their brief battle. “Especially after he hears about this.”

“Perhaps not.” Anton began. “But the Dark Elves have always fought lacking the raw strength that other races have. Even women, who are naturally more slender than men. Most of the time. I’m pretty sure lacking testosterone makes it harder to put on muscle.”

Everyone returned blank looks to Anton. The idea of hormones would be a truly alien notion.

“Anyway, your attacks are skilled enough, they just lack the strength to do real damage in a life and death fight. They’d probably just bounce off armour…But I have a solution to that.”

“You do?” Kal asked incredulously.

“I do. Lots of sleep and food, alongside vigorous training and rest.”

“Th-That’s it?!” Calo’s eye twitched. “That’s a way to get as strong as Cetina?”

Cetina raised a brow at Anton. “I didn’t eat that well during my travels, Anton. You saw how much I ate.”

“Yeah…Not much.” Anton held his chin, slowly nodding. “But my words still stand true. You can’t become strong unless you eat and rest enough. Your body simply can’t repair and improve if you don’t.”

Calo and Sheso shared a glance.

“We…Actually, we are eating a lot better now.” Calo began. “I can’t believe you have so much meat…Do you have a Razor Pig ranch in Atros? I haven’t seen one.”

“Just a pen of Chiroks.” Sheso snidely added. “And they eat a lot of meat too.”

“We hunt,” Anton said. “But I told Bertram to start something like that. Regardless, we can now buy food straight from Graterious and Seocuria. Not so much from the second.”

Kal glumly nodded.

“I suppose then we’ll keep training.” Calo shrugged, rotating her shoulder, eliciting a significant wince. “But maybe not against Cetina.”

“Or the Minotaur.” Sheso sniggered.

Anton approached the twins, resting his hands on their shoulders. Both looked confused as Anton chanted the healing prayer. They smiled, realising their aches and pains had vanished. Anton was glad to know his new hand didn’t impede his magic, as did that neither of the twins noticed anything different with his hands.

“Thanks!”

“Not a problem.” Anton ruffled their hair, much to their feigned annoyance. “But tell any Dark Elf that’s injured to see one of us. No point in waiting the long way to get better, especially when we have magic to spare.”

“Ask me too.” Kal raised her hand. “I need practice…And I’ve done a lot of work healing the Dark Elves in The Shadow Isles; many will live and recover back to normal, even those that had lost limbs. I have a good understanding of Tethra’s healing magic. At least…I think I do.”

Anton kissed Kal’s forehead, much to her tails’ enjoyment. “Of course you do. I’m just a novice compared to you.”

“You’re just saying that.” Kal’s tail swirled. “After being away for so long, just to try and swoon me at every opportunity…”

Anton kissed her again. Kal playfully pushed him away but he knew she wanted to continue, however, there were far too many people present.

“It’s probably time to head back.” Anton flexed his restored hand, drawing a curious eye from the twins. “The battle for Clausonne won’t be far away now.”

Verona nodded, folding her arms. “And after The Shadow Isles are safe finally safe there’ll be some time to relax. But knowing Anton that’s probably not going to be the case.”

Anton smiled. “Probably not. But, if you’re up to it during the winter, would you two be willing to come with us? We’ll be travelling far beyond the continent, though we should always have the opportunity to return to Atros every night.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Sheso slapped her forearm. “We’ll get stronger by then, maybe even know how to use a bow.”

“Perhaps you should try one blade at a time.” Cetina offered. “That way you’ll have more strength, and probably enough to hold it properly. If you two worked as a team with just a single blade…”

The twins shared a nod.

“We’ll ask Leran if we can have more training,” Calo said. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to learn that we’re…”

“That you’re what?” Anton asked, Verona took a step forward.

“That we’re doing something other than just waiting in our camp!” Sheso forced out. “That’s why Leran and Cagec wanted us to go with you, to see those Chiroks, right? See more of our new home. And that we wouldn’t dwell on what happened our fortress, with the Goblins. Right?”

“Right…”

The two smiled but even Anton knew there was a certain level of panic in their eyes.

I wonder if their grandfather is wanting something from them and me? Who am I kidding? It’s pretty obvious what direction the conversation was heading before the Goblins started attacking in force.

“By the way.” Anton raised his hand. “Didn’t your grandfather mention that you knew how to-”

“Manage a home?” Sheso smiled. “Of course. Well, we know how to cook and clean, keep things in order. Things like that. We…”

Sheso was about to say something else but shut her mouth tight. Calo gave no indication she knew what she was about to say.

“I’d like to have someone to maintain our house.” Anton sighed. “There’s not much there but I don’t like seeing it covered in dust every time we come back. Kind of a letdown, after travelling the countryside and seeing it in such a state.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Calo smiled. “We know what to do, can’t be that hard, right? We might need a few things but I’m sure that won’t be a problem. You can buy things from Qaiviel and Graterious, right?”

“Ah.” Verona sniggered. “I like it. I’m imagining them wearing those maid outfits from Graterious. Yes, very nice. A very nice look.”

The twins smiled but knew something was amiss. It was Verona, after all. An image flashed through Anton’s head; it was rather nice.

Anton clapped his hands before any more of Verona’s thoughts could corrupt his.

“Just one more battle, then we can focus on The Shadow Isles…” Anton frowned. “Still, I don’t like the presence of those humans in the midst of the Goblins.”

“You’re worried about some crazies after what you two just fought?” Verona asked.

Kal shook her head. “At least the presence of that Caiden creature makes some sense. Only some sense. I don’t understand those humans. What do they want? Beyond that liquid silver stuff. And what could they possibly want with that?”

“One thing at a time.” Anton smiled. He rotated his hand, feeling the bones grind against one another. “We’ve already seen what happens when we divide our forces too much.”

Chapter 148 - Vol 4 - Clausonne in Reach

Chapter 147:

Clausonne was a marvel of a city, far larger than anything Anton had seen so far. Even larger than Porswea and by a large margin. However, it too suffered from squalor and overcrowding. The central castle city was extremely large but a large wooden city had sprung around it, twice or even three times larger than Porswea with many wooden walls, some of which were in the process of being upgraded to stone. Unfortunately, they had no such time to marvel at the city.

The walls fluttered with flags, emblems of The Church of The Holy Father flying proudly against the wind. Thousands of white robbed soldiers, and militia, stood behind the safety of the wooden wall, ready to fight them back.

Leo had sent another wave of Knights after the retreating Church forces, thoroughly aware that the Knights operated most effectively in the open plains rather than dense and cluttered cities. They caught a small force, their intentions unknown, but suffered a significant mauling. Over half the enemy forces were wiped out but a number were able to slink back to Clausonne, along with all the Stitch Soldiers. Several Knights returned without their horses’; the Stitch Soldiers threw large javelins and skewered their horses but instead of fighting the downed Knights they quickly retreated after creating some space. They still needed upgrades to make them on par with Caiden.

“Can we actually win this?” Belinda softly asked Alfred.

“Yes.” Alfred turned back to their army.

With the addition of the Royal Army forces, their army had swollen even larger from the nearby towns and cities. Most were militia calibre but they had heart and bravery, and that counted for something.

Anton stood near the front, alongside the leaders of King Leo’s army. Verona, Kal and Cetina stood just behind, Cetina’s attention clearly focused on those behind. Belinda and Alfred stood with them too.

“That’s a relief.” Belinda’s posture relaxed. “For a moment I was worried.”

“That’s a lot of faith you have in your butler.” Verona sniggered.

Belinda looked at Verona with a blank face. “He has never let me down. Even when he should have, I have no reason to doubt him now.”

“They’re starting!” Bernard yelled. He and the other Knights sat on top of their heavily armoured horses, their bright and gaudy colours shone brightly in the early morning sun. Bernard’s armour had been repaired though he ordered the fresh metal to not be repainted black.

The outermost wall of Clausonne shimmered blue. A great wall of magic, hundreds of strange lines and swirls, seemingly based on random and nonsensical mathematical expressions, covered the entire city upwards of a hundred meters. It wasn’t a dome, so anyone could simply fly in, but Anton wasn’t planning on that; the Chirok’s weren’t ready and he definitely wasn’t ready to fall to his death from a Principle Mage landing a lucky strike. Anton quickly enhanced his vision; where the shield glowed brightest, the lines and symbols the most intense, he spied a Principle Mage, middle to late aged men gripped a large staff hard, muttering some sort of chant to maintain the shield, each mage speaking in near perfect unison.

“Now I know how they were able to summon the bigger creatures.” Anton murmured.

“This is what we need you for.” Leo turned to Anton. “Though I remember it being larger.”

Alfred bowed his head. “I do not believe my men were able to neutralise all the enemy mages, by bribery, threat or violence. But it should still be considerably weaker.”

“About half,” Bernard grumbled. “At least. Good start.”

“Doesn’t mean anything if we can’t get through,” Marcus added.

The Principle Mages were guarded by many well-armed soldiers, these had the most armour and best weapons, all training their ranged weapons on the backs of the Mages.

“How long can they keep this up?” Anton asked. “Unless there’s some sort of magical artefact powering this shield. Don’t tell me there was something like that.”

“Qaiviel does not possess such a thing.” Leo frowned lightly. “At least I think so. Who knows what the Church has managed to scrounge up, they have travelled to the lands beyond Qaiviel before…The mages should be able to keep this up until sometime tonight.”

“So we should just wait then,” Anton said. “Let them exhaust themselves and then move in…Unless there’s another reason why you are so desperate to reach the throne first.”

Leo clicked his tongue. “She won’t get to the throne before me. Besides, when I’m on the throne I will the legitimate King of Qaiviel, and no king would dare lose so much territory to his sister.”

Still no luck mellowing you out. I wonder what sort of person Lila is.

“Let us first get you onto the throne.” Anton began. “I can’t reach them from here, even with my strongest magic. I need to get closer. A lot closer. And that means we’ll be in range of their arrows and magic."

“I’d like to see my home again.” Verona chuckled.

“We’ll begin constructing the siege weapons.” Marcus waved to Castor who disseminated the order. “Arrow shields and siege towers. They should be ready by…Mid-day. We already have the framework. And a lot of our new soldiers are woodcutters. Catapults and Trebuchets won’t be ready for a few more days. It’s up to you if we attack today or later. Losses will be much higher if we don’t prepare properly.”

Leo slowly nodded. There was no sign of a messenger or rider from Clausonne. Harold had no interest in negotiation or even dialogue. His path had been chosen, and now he simply had to follow it through.

Local commanders began ordering their men forward to dig trenches and construct small defensive works. The likelihood of a counter-attack wasn’t small. Anton looked to the girls and shrugged lightly. They would have to remain with the leaders until the fighting started. Perhaps they could catch up on some sleep, or Anton could speak with some of the Principle Mages. They had been very interested in Anton’s Marble Spear, though Anton wasn’t going to let them poke and prod him, but he wasn’t able to get a question in edgewise. Cetina had to rescue him from their near unlimited energy when they discovered something new.

A scout rode in rapidly through the lines of soldiers and pushed his way through to the Leaders. Anton found a small trail of dust coming from the north; the grass was rather dry.

“My Lord Marcus.” The scout was part of a Knight Order but not one Anton knew by name. His armour was grey, but not from steel or iron. “A large Church force is approaching rapidly from the north. It appears to be nearly as large as the force that retreated from Poisier.”

“That’ll make things all the more difficult,” Marcus grumbled. He turned to Bernard and Leo. “I want half of the Knights to come with me. As well as Anton and his…companions. The rest will stay here to fend off any counter attacks. Are there any horses?”

“No, my Lord. B-”

“This battle will be easy then. Any Stitch Soldiers?”

“Not that I could see but there was another force in pursuit.”

Everyone stopped and focused on the scout. He appeared quite nervous, unable to look Leo in the face.

“I saw five different Knight Orders and a large infantry force behind.” The scout looked to Marcus and Bernard. “The Red Salamanders were leading the attack.”

“They’re…” Marcus shook his head. “They’re right next to the Centaurs…How did they get this far?”

“They’d have to have ridden hard to get here,” Bernard added. “The Red Salamanders use heavy armour and infantry. Marching will have drained so much of their strength.”

“Who leads them?” Marcus asked.

“I don’t know. I was too far away.”

“Let’s find out what they’re up to.”

---[]---

By the time Anton and the Knight Orders skirted around Clausonne to reach the Church forces they were already dead. The open grasslands were slick with blood and bodies, Knights running down the few survivors and infantry sifting through the corpses, finishing off those that weren’t trampled to death.

“They’ve done well.” Marcus chuckled. “Now, are they going to attack us or not?”

Someone raised the alarm and the Knights attention was drawn to their army. Though they had brought a little less than half of their Knights, and none of their infantry, they easily outnumbered the Knights before them. However, the scout's report hadn’t given the infantry credit. It was indeed a large number, perhaps half of theirs, but everyone wielded a bow with a decent set of light armour, a small sword hanging from their side. This would be a very tough force to destroy.

“Definitely the Red Salamanders.” Castor raised his hand to his brow. “I see the commander too. Well…”

“I wonder if Fabrice survived.” Marcus laughed.

Bernard let out a rare smile. “Tough bastard. I’d like to hear how he managed to escape.”

A small group of Red Salamanders parted from the main force and rode towards them. The lead Red Salamander laughed as he reached them.

“Marcus! Glad to see you got out of that mess in one piece!”

“Luckily.” Marcus brought his horse forward and shook the man’s hand, bringing him into a hug. “Castor and Bernard managed to get out as well.”

The Red Salamander’s head bobbed about. “What about Leo? I heard he managed to escape.”

“He’s back with the others,” Bernard said. “With the main force.”

“You’re just as grumpy as ever, Bernard.”

“You talk too much, Fabrice.”

Fabrice laughed. “Perhaps. But the last few days have been interesting. Especially with our new leader.”

“Queen Lila?” Bernard asked.

Fabrice’s face fell. “Terill said that you weren’t happy with that.”

“I think that’s more the King,” Marcus grumbled, shaking his head. “But that’s something for another day. Is she with you?”

“Not in that way.” Fabrice laughed. “But she is with the main force. Did…Did he end up reading the letter.”

Marcus gently shook his head.

“Shame. She spent a long time on that. Asked everyone for help...” Fabrice’s eyes fell upon Anton and the girls. “You have some strange company. Who are they? Terill mentioned some people that looked like them. To have an audience with Leo…”

Marcus glanced back. “A long story. Is there any chance that Lila and Leo could meet? Actually speaking face to face might sort some things out.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Fabrice looked back to the army. “Hopefully we won’t end up fighting. I don’t know who’s going to win that one.”

“No one.” Marcus’s face darkened. “No one.”

---[]---

Lila, Queen Lila, sat across from Leo. While Leo held his arms folded tight Lila sat more like Anton expected a member of royalty. She was very beautiful; short curled blonde hair reached her shoulders, a simple brown dress that had been reinforced for light combat while maintaining its beauty. It was no wonder that Marcus once joked that he might want to try and seduce her.

“How did you get an army?” Leo asked.

Lila smiled. “It is good to see you too, brother.”

Leo inhaled deeply. His first words to his sister were very poorly chosen. “Forgive me, sister, but it has been a very stressful time.”

“Indeed.” Lila ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sure staying in a castle, fed, clothed and bedding pretty maids was very hard for you. I, on the other hand, had to flee through the wilderness. With no food and the one person I despised for company.”

“Terill?”

Lila nodded. “He has proven to be very loyal and effective. Right now he’s commanding the forces in preparation for the siege of Clausonne.”

“Well…” Leo sighed lightly again. “I received your letter-”

“Letters.” Lila’s face softened. “Did you not read it?”

Noah, the young page in golden clothes, stepped forward and presented Leo with both letters. Leo immediately reached for the map but Noah moved it out of his reach. Leo said nothing and gently took the letter. Lila looked disappointed that it was lightly crumpled while the map was flat and pristine.

Verona bumped Anton’s side. “Not a happy family.”

“No,” Anton whispered back. “But that’s the problem with the eldest inheriting everything. It can create lots of animosity…That’s something I’m actually worried about. Since it’s usually the eldest boy…”

“First we need to make something like a Kingdom for him to inherit.” Verona winked.

Leo finished reading the letter and gently laid it upon the table. It hadn’t taken him long, there was no way he could have read everything. Even Lila knew this but still played the part.

“Knowing that my brother…And our mother, are in there, doing who knows what…Have you seen the Stitch Soldiers?”

“I have. Only a few, though. They are extremely strong and resilient. At least that’s how Fabrice describes them.”

“Do you still agree to this division?” Leo tapped the map. “I…Have been speaking with my advisors-”

More like told. Repeatedly.

“-And Qaiviel cannot endure another civil war. There won’t be anything left. And…” Leo looked to Fabrice. “I’ve been told the Centaurs are preparing for another attack.”

“They are.” Fabrice folded his arms. “After the winter, probably.”

There’s our next interaction with Qaiviel.

“And it’ll be huge this time. If we’re fighting each other they’ll take over half the Kingdom and kill everyone. Neither of you will have much to rule over.”

“Exactly.” Lila smiled warmly. “So I agree to this division. I will also handle the Centaurs, though I may need your help.”

Leo nodded. “Very well.”

An oppressive silence filled the air.

“Is that all you have to say, brother?” Lila was on the verge of tears. “After all this, very well?”

Leo closed his eyes. “I do not know what to say. I just want this to be over. Honestly…I’d prefer for things to return to how they were.”

“As do I, brother.” Lila clasped her hands tight. “Terill has already had men infiltrate Clausonne. The gates will open for our soldiers. However, I do not know if they can take both…”

“We were already planning to attack once the siege weapons were built.” Leo folded his arms. “We have brought in some special mercenaries for just such an occasion.”

Lila glanced at Anton. “Terill mentioned them. Are you the ones that my mother spoke of?”

“Do not worry.” Leo raised his hand, cutting Anton off from any potential response. “They are more than prepared for the task.”

Lila gently nodded. “I understand.” She stared directly at Anton. “If…If you survive this battle I would like to speak with you.”

Anton returned a curt nod. Leo glanced back but Anton kept his face flat. He didn’t want to entertain or even give the slightest hint that he had some secret dealings with Lila.

Leo rose up from his chair. “We will meet before the castle, or King Harold’s throne…Do you have any idea what happened to Giles’s body? Was it burned or just dumped in some pit?”

Lila had no idea, no one present knew either.

“Shame. Though he was involved in all of this mess…He should be treated with some respect. As for Harold and Mother…”

Lila grimly nodded and stood up. They stared at one another, Lila took the first step and hugged her brother. Leo eventually broke and returned the hold.

“Let’s not fight when this is over,” Lila said softly. “I only have one person from my family left…And I don’t want to fight what’s left.”

Leo nodded. “I don’t either.” He gently pried her loose. “Fighting family is not what I intend after this war.”

Lila gave a final nod. She stopped as Fabrice held open the tent flap. “We will launch our assault the moment you do. I shall see you soon, brother.”

Please don’t let this start another war. Qaiviel surely can’t withstand another Civil war…Especially with so many forces mustered and with winter just around the corner…

Leo waited until they were well gone before speaking a word.

“Bernard, Marcus. Tell the men to halt building the catapults and trebuchets. Have them focus all of their effort on siege towers and arrow shields.” Leo turned to Anton. “How much magic can you use? I hope it’s more than you used to fight Caiden.”

“Indeed.” Anton smiled. “A lot more magic. I couldn’t use some of the larger types because there were so many friendly forces but now…I have enough Mana vials for my limit…Just give the word and we’ll attack.”

If I put nearly everything into a line of Tethered Lighting Rings that should be enough, especially if Alfred’s men can kill the mages…I hope I can bring down that shield. Otherwise, we’re going to be in a world of pain.

Chapter 149 - Vol 4 - Cardinal's Gambit

Chapter 149:

Cardinal Abeau’s feet angrily paced back and for before the throne of Qaiviel. His fingers were all but bloody tatters, his teeth covered in a thin veneer of diluted blood and pieces of his own skin. He dared not look out the window. Not again. Another explosion echoed through the empty throne room, a roar of fire then the crackle of lightning. Finally, Abeau crossed the near-empty throne room, with only Bishop Moïse and another three priests huddling in the corner, to look outside. As he moved to a large glass window overlooking the city something shattered in the air. The last fragment of the city shield protecting Clausonne fell. Ten giant rings of lightning smashed through the remnants, striking the men manning the outer wall. Almost immediately the shield began to recover but the Principle Mages, the few they had that weren’t mysteriously spirited away or killed, erupted in a flash of lightning or flame. It wasn’t from a Principle Mage, of that he was certain, it was like someone had loosed some sort of enchanted arrow that would erupt upon contact. Abeau cursed the attackers as a blast of flame destroyed the outer wooden wall, small darts of something flew over the heads of the defenders, throwing down lightning upon the few that survived the blast.

The gate protecting the outer wooden wall exploded inward, the fire incinerating the defenders behind.

“That heretic,” Abeau whispered. “He’s here.”

The shield began to collapse along the entire outer wall. A stream of Church forces moved forward to fill the gap but brightly coloured Knights burst through the burning smoke and cleaved straight through the defenders. Spears and pikes were nothing against the massive armoured charge. The sheer mass, the thundering and shaking of the ground, was enough to break their soldier’s morale and nerve. More and more Knights flooded through, tearing through the defenders in the street, followed by thousands of infantry. Siege towers and arrow shields lay abandoned as Leo’s forces charged into Clausonne.

Abeau couldn’t speak nor tear his eyes away as the outer city of Clausonne smouldered. King Leo and Queen Lila’s forces had successfully laid waste to their forces outside of the capital, even with Bishop Moïse’s forces returning almost unscathed. Lila had destroyed their northern subjugation force, which suffered horrendous ambushes that cut the army in half without felling a single enemy. Abeau hoped it would be enough to bolster the defences but that was not to happen. The bloodstained fields to the north were a testament to their monumental failures.

Abeau knew extraordinarily little about war and it’s intricacies but he knew it was over. The next gate burst open in a flash of lightning. Another wave of brightly coloured Knights charged through, almost immediately after he witnessed their forces fleeing through the streets.

Everything had fallen apart so quickly, so quickly that Abeau refused to believe it. There was nothing to do now but wait for the inevitable. There was no way to rebuild their defences or stop the routs. No man, no matter how brave, would stand against a wall of charging Knights or that heretical mage. Abeau’s heart sunk further when he looked to the north. Lila’s forces, led by the Red Salamanders, slipped through the outer northern gate. They had not fired a single arrow, their soldiers on the walls lay dead, their throats slit by a band of infiltrators continuing to slink across the chaotic defences.

Faint footsteps came from behind as Abeau sighed. Moïse approached, his head hung low and his hands gripped tight in front of his stomach. Abeau would have said something about his portly appearance but he wasn’t much better.

“What do we do now?” Moïse asked, his every word was a drain on Abeau’s patience. “I didn’t expect Caiden to lose, let alone suffer a Grade three overflow.”

Abeau sighed. “We didn’t have enough time to experiment with the enhanced Stitch Soldiers. Caiden was an exception, the only one we had managed to successfully create…And you lost him.”

Abeau turned to the panicking Moïse. “If you had been smart you would have attacked immediately, letting Caiden cleave a path and distract them while you attack in force. Or initiating Overflow on all of the Stitch Soldiers with you. Just leaving them to run amok would have been enough.”

“You told us to preserve them wherever possible.” Moïse’s voice wavered slightly. He coughed and looked out over the city, his eyes following a small swarm of crows firing lightning bolts over their fleeing forces. “I thought I was following orders.”

“If Henri had followed my orders, Harold’s orders, and not been a dirty traitor he would have known how to use them. Or he could have just wiped them out…” Abeau gently shook his head. “Nothing we can do now.”

Abeau looked to the throne. “And they’ll be here soon. Very soon. You there!” The three priests snapped to attention. “Tell the men inside the inner defences to hold their positions no matter the cost. Tell them to have faith in The Holy Father, that reinforcements are coming.”

“Are they?” A priest asked softly.

“No,” Abeau smirked. “But they don’t need to know that. And be quick about it. If you aren’t back very soon we will leave without you.”

The three priests quickly ran out of the throne room.

“To the Holy Kingsland?” Moïse asked.

“I’ve been speaking with their priests once we took control.” Abeau smiled. “Something told me we would need it. They will accept us. And our research.”

Moïse leant close. “And what about-”

“Abeau!” A voice called out a small passageway to the side. “Where are you?”

Abeau forced himself to smile, bumped Moïse’s side, as Harold and Valérie entered. The young King was just as scrawny and unappealing as when Abeau first met him. After his coronation, Harold tried to wear kingly attire for but a few measly days before turning to a more slovenly appearance. His shirt was uneven and unkempt, clearly having just been picked up from the floor. Everything about Harold made Abeau’s skin crawl. He almost bedded his own mother right after receiving the crown, and in the throne room no less. Valérie only managed to convince him to take her to their bed, his father’s bed, first. Abeau was all but certain he could hear his pathetic moans echo throughout the castle. Abeau’s sleep was limited, to say the least.

Queen Valérie, on the other hand, was an absolute beauty, wearing a slim ankle length white dress that accentuated her curves. Today she looked especially beautiful, her face wasn’t ruined by disgusting layers of make-up. Didn’t they know the chemicals caused insanity? The Church of The Holy Father had tried to spread the message; it worked for the lower classes, though they could never afford such extravagance, the upper echelons of Qaiviel society paid them no heed.

One of the few things that Terill and I will still agree on.

“Your Majesty.” Abeau bowed low, sweeping his arm to the side in a deliberate expression of submission. “The battle continues, though I must confess that the situation is poor.”

“How can that be?” Valérie cutely placed a finger on her plush red lips, pushing her considerable bosom out. “The angel told me our mission was divine, and that we couldn’t fail. Otherwise the world would fall into darkness and chaos.”

Valérie hugged her son from behind, pushing his head into her breasts. “And not after I’ve finally conceived the next Queen of Qaiviel. I wonder if she’ll bear Harold’s children as well. I know they’ll be beautiful.”

She ran a hand over her stomach and kissed Harold like a ragged whore desperate for a few copper coins.

I…I have no words anymore.

Moïse looked to Abeau who merely smiled, a well practice expression if one wanted to survive this disgusting place.

“Congratulations are in order, Queen Valérie. Unfortunately, there may not be time to celebrate such a momentous occasion.”

“What do we do?” Valérie gently rocked Harold back and forth. “You’ve always been there for us.”

How do we get out of here? They need to stay here and die, preferably without knowing we’ve escaped.

Harold kissed her again before gently pulling away her hands. “Abeau. Where are the Stitch Soldiers?”

“Defending the inner perimeter of the castle, my King. Though the faith of the defenders on the outer wall wavered theirs will not. Their faith will carry them through to victory.”

Harold kissed Valérie again.

Enough with your damned kissing you little shit! They’ll be here soon.

Abeau looked out the open window, the sounds of fighting were growing closer and closer.

Harold broke his kiss. “If only they had faith as we do in The Holy Father. None of this would have transpired.”

I know that I’ve had drugs put into your food but it wasn’t this much…Wait a moment.

Abeau smiled to himself. They had a way out after all.

“Indeed my King.” Abeau dramatically snapped his fingers. “There might be a way to win. But…Only if you think your faith is strong enough.”

“Our faith burns brighter than anyone’s in the Kingdom.” Harold laughed. “No, the world.”

Moïse leant in close to Abeau. “Are you thinking-”

“Yes!” Abeau yelled, startling Moïse. “I believe that they are strong enough to receive the most powerful blessing of The Holy Father. Do you doubt their faith, Moïse?”

Moïse violently shook his head. “Never. I…I, after seeing them I simply do not.”

“Excellent.” Abeau strode across the room towards the royals as the three priests returned. Abeau raised his hand. “Is everything prepared?”

“I…” The priest looked at Harold then Valérie. “They are, Cardinal Abeau.”

At least you’re not a total idiot.

“You already knew?” Valérie asked, holding her son tight again.

Abeau smiled. “Of course. Your faith is the only thing that will save this Kingdom now.”

---[]---

Abeau descended into the dungeons, moving as quickly as he could without appearing rushed. Where once these iron and stone cells held enemies of the Kingdom they now held the latest batch of unwilling Stitch Soldier recruits. However, over the past few days the process had been accelerated with mixed results. Moïse pushed Harold and Valérie past the piles of dead bodies. Though they had died screaming their deaths revealed much.

“Here we are.” Abeau directed them to two chairs at the centre of the laboratory at the end of the dungeon.

The laboratory, like everything in the dungeon, was a repurposed torture chamber. It held thousands of vials of precious liquids, tomes upon tomes of research notes and the most precious thing of all; the blue jars. Repurposed torture chairs lay in the centre of the room. The most important aspect was the thick leather straps to restrain the Stitch Soldier as they underwent their transformation. Most died here. Twenty men, wearing thick leather overalls and glass goggles, moved through the piles of papers and chemicals, preparing the most important for departure. Upon seeing Abeau, and more importantly Harold, they stopped but he waved them to continue.

“This place smells awful.” Valérie scrunched her nose and waved away the smells of chemicals, alcohol and blood.

If only you weren’t mad. You’d sell for a good price to the Mycean’s, after you’d been used a few dozen times during our flight. Such a shame…The beautiful ones are always the craziest.

“What are we to do?” Harold asked. He slammed his fist into his palm. “I want to see my brother and sister grovel before me, before someone blessed by The Holy Father, to know that I am the rightful king.”

“That you are.” Valérie smothered Harold with affection. “And we will show them why.”

Let’s get this over with.

“Please sit in these two seats.” Abeau, feigning his excitement, waved them forward. “We have little time.”

Abeau looked to the priests, scrambling to assemble the important papers. “Prepare our most powerful blessing.”

“And what is this?” Harold asked, dutifully taking his position. “Is this how you create the Stitch Soldiers?”

“Not exactly.”

Exactly.

“The Stitch Soldiers are those that took in some of The Holy Father’s blessings. But their faith was not enough and their hearts rejected it.” Abeau waved Valérie to take a seat next to Harold. He winked at them both as the other priests tightened their restraints. “But I know that you will not fail.”

“The Holy Father will see us through this.” Valérie held Harold’s hand. Her eyes shot open, full of genuine worry. “What about the baby? Will it be okay?”

It’d probably be a deformed monstrosity even without this.

“Of course your child will be fine.” Valérie relaxed, smiling at her son as she squeezed his hand. “Do not doubt your faith.”

“We’ll be the ones to save this Kingdom.” Harold stared into Valérie’s eyes, Abeau could no longer deny the insanity in her eyes. “Just as you said we would.”

They tried to kiss but the restraints prevented them. Abeau motioned to have the restraints loosened, it would be the last time they ever thought about such things.

“Cardinal Abeau.” A priest, Abeau’s lead researcher, spoke through the leather protecting his face. “A word, if I may.”

Abeau nodded, smiling at the Royals. “Please bear with me a moment.”

Abeau made sure he was as far away as possible, signalled for the other priests to begin, and moved close to the priest.

“What?”

“Are you sure about this?” The priest spoke very softly, even with the muffling effect of his leather mask. “We’ve never tried a whole unit before.” He looked to the two fools, madly in love. “Caiden, our best result, only managed a tenth. And that was very touch and go. So much effort and resources for just one soldier, not that I’m complaining.”

“So?"

“So…” The priest sighed. “We aren’t capable of dealing with that much overflow. I heard that Caiden suffered from it. Grade three too. If we put in a whole unit-”

“We aren’t exactly going to be here when it’s done. Now, is everything prepared?”

“All the research and vital equipment is ready to be moved.”

“Alright. Do it.”

“There, is another problem.”

What now?

“We only have…one left.”

The priest tapped on a glass container filled with a vile blue-green liquid. Inside a small black and white crystal slowly bobbed back and forth. It shone and glittered with every point of light that struck it, making it quite difficult to look at if not submerged. Normally the crystals were just tiny fragments of a much larger whole but this was a complete crystal. They hadn’t touched it since the larger the crystal the larger the overflow, but also greater the strength.

“Are you sure we want to use this?”

“We still have the acid, yes?” Abeau chuckled. “At least the recipe. And there’s never an end to the source of these things, damn things are everywhere.” Abeau smiled at the crystal. “If only they knew where to look.”

“So who do we use it on?” The priest shrugged. “It’ll fully transform one into…I don’t know what. But the other will remain perfectly unaffected. At least by the transformation.”

Abeau pondered the dilemma for a moment. The idea finally came to him like a bolt of lightning. “Remember the ancient kings, sealing their pacts with blood?”

“I…Understand.” The priest drew a small dagger. “We’ll say it’s a part of the procedure.”

“Get on with it.” Abeau waved him away. “They could be inside the castle already.”

The priest approached the royals, they weren’t particularly pleased with the presence of a knife.

“Do not fear.” Abeau approached them. “It is merely a symbol to show your love and devotion to one another. The Holy Father will look more kindly upon those who are willing to take the pain, not that you need it. Still, it can’t hurt.”

“You say that.” Valérie chuckled.

Abeau returned the chuckle as the priest gently cut their palms and bound their hands together with another piece of leather.

“Now we’re truly one.” Harold smiled at Valérie.

I’ll be glad to be done with this place.

Another priest approached Harold from behind. He too held a knife and lifted his hair. “Forgive me, your highness, but I must remove the hair that covers your neck. It may interfere if it present during this…procedure.”

Harold quickly nodded. His hair was swiftly cut away, exposing his soft skin. Abeau moved behind the royals after flashing a final smile. He couldn’t keep a straight face with what was about to happen. The priests removed the black and white crystal, held gently in cloth wrapped plyers. It was not something to touch with one’s bare skin; the first Stitch Soldier had been made that way.

“Please endure the slight sting.” The priest said to Harold.

The priest cut a small incision along Harold’s spine, eliciting a tiny noise from Harold. Valerie held his hand tighter as he smiled back to her.

You have no idea what’s about to happen.

The priest held the crystal over Harold’s neck and looked to Abeau, the last chance to back down. But there was no time. The evidence needed to be hidden. Abeau gave a tiny nod and the priest slowly lowered the crystal until the tip touched his blood. The moment it made contact Harold screamed like a strangled cat, like so many before him. Blood solidified and transformed into the tell-tale fleshy purple worms of a Stitch Soldier. The worms squirmed and writhed, drawing the crystal deep into his body while ripping and tearing through his skin. Fully submerged the worms began to multiply and spread, pushing his skin taught and began to bulge and push his head down. Such a sudden growth in muscle and fleshy mass could not be contained by his skin and deep fissures emerged, the worms attempted to heal them but couldn’t act fast enough. Normally they would descend upon him and begin removing the excess with a special acid they had discovered, one which ate at the worms and preserved and hardened the deep cavities, the easiest side effect to deal with, requiring thick, harsh stitches to prevent the wounds from falling apart.

Valérie looked back to Abeau in panic and fear. For the first time clarity pierced her thoughts. She had been betrayed, but Abeau felt no remorse.

“Move it!” Abeau ordered. “Through the tunnel, right now. If you can’t carry it, burn it.”

The priests, and Bishop Moïse, hurriedly assembled large stacks of paper and small vials of precious substances. They paid no heed to the screaming Harold as they ran to a passageway hidden behind a bookcase, thrown to the side and disgorging its contents over the ground.

Valérie couldn’t find the words to express her betrayal. Abeau shrugged and slowly moved to the passage. A priest began burning what little they could not take. These two would not burn to death, nor die from the smoke. Their fate was far, far worse.

Harold’s transformation continued at a blistering pace. Already he was larger than Bernard, that ridiculously huge Black Rider Knight, and continued to grow and expand. His screams had turned to growls of anger and hatred, his eyes burst only to be replaced with the swirls of worms. The leather straps constricted his limbs and cut deep into his purple mottled skin. The leather straps frayed and began to tear as Harold continued to struggle against the transformation, not that it would hold for long.

As his head began to roll back Valérie struggled to break free but the chairs were designed for men, soldiers, not some frail woman. The leather straps holding Harold’s hand down, and constricting the flow of the transforming worms, broke. Valérie looked on with horror as the last human piece of Harold disappeared, and the worms travelled through his blood and into her.

“So much. So much overflow.” The masked priest spoke with such reverence for the monstrosity being born. “I’d love to see this in full. We never tried to put two together at once. Nor what a whole unit would actually do.”

Abeau gently pushed him into the passageway. Already the others were almost beyond sight in the stone passageway, only a few scant torches to guide their way.

“They said not to use a whole unit at once.” The masked priest shrugged and stepped back further. “Another time.”

Abeau pulled on a lever hidden in the passageway. He spared a final glance as Valérie began her transformation alongside her beloved, so large already that he reached the ceiling and was nothing more than a rough blob of purple flesh moulded into a human shape. As the worms raced through her blood, her skin transforming at a much slower pace, her stomach began to expand and writhe.

“I forgot about the baby.” Abeau mused.

“Pregnant?” Abeau swore he could see the sadistic smirk underneath the mask. “So many variables, so many possibilities…Such a shame we won’t be here to see what happens. Will it be three beings? Or will it be two? Such interesting possibilities."

Harold’s chair smashed and he fell forward, his hand remained connected to Valérie. Somewhere in there a piece of him remained. But not for long. Harold’s body began to elongate, his legs snapped and grew strange fleshly tendrils, bundles of worms twisted together that thrashed about wildly, smashing the remaining burning vials and equipment.

A heavy iron door descended and sealed the passageway. The screams were now nothing more than a faint and distant muffle.

“This will buy us enough time.” Abeau chuckled. “We’ll have to take a ship from-”

The metal door rang with a massive thud. Abeau jumped back, his heart lodged in his throat, a giant imprint forced into the iron. The door buckled towards them, only a few inches kept the door in its stone groove and from flying into the passageway. Abeau held his breath but the second attack never came. The masked priest laughed.

“Such strength. Such strength…But there will always be time for more. So many more tests, with such potential. The stories will be magnificent.” The first priest pushed Abeau forward. “But for that we must leave this place, alive.”

Both men stopped, something was scratching upon the door. Tiny scratches, made by something no bigger than a human finger. But Harold and even Valérie would no longer have such things. One thing might...

“Marvellous. Absolutely…Marvellous. Oh, if only I could see you with my own eyes. I wish you all the best. May the Holy Father bless your battle and carry you to victory.”

Abeau pulled the masked priest forward, ignoring the inane muffled giggling, and into the darkness.

Chapter 150 - Vol 4 - All Hail the King!

Chapter 150:

Anton took another swig of a Dark Elven mana vial. Breaching the city shield, requiring three successive tethered lines of Lightning Rings and attacking the defenders with Lightning Crows, took almost everything out of him. Thankfully Kal killed the downed Principle Mages with her enchanted and guided arrows, reducing the amount of mana Anton expended significantly but he was still mostly depleted. The Dark Elf mana vials restored a significant portion of his mana, more than enough to continue supporting Leo’s forces. Although he was necessary he felt nothing more than a glorified battering ram. A well-paid battering ram and one kept very safe. Verona kept her blood shards close, Kal scanned the buildings and windows for any hidden archers while Cetina kept her tower shield raised and ready to absorb any errant arrow or bolt.

After taking down the second last gate, and allowed access into the heart of Clausonne’s castle city, only the central castle’s gate remained, Anton was ordered to hang back. The Knights and infantry needed to secure the area first. A small detachment of the White Dog Mercenary Company remained with them, for added security. And probably to increase Belinda’s input in this battle. She would need the political weight in order to-

“Cetina!” Kal yelled. “Come back.”

Kal loosed an arrow towards a roof. It struck something, a white-robed body tumbled over the edge, Cetina angled her shield to deflect the corpse until Verona directed a shard to propel the body away and into the ground.

“That was a little excessive,” Anton said.

Verona laughed. “I’m feeling a little pent up. Maybe…Maybe it’s the thing growing inside me messing me up.”

“Not now.” Anton forced a smile. Though he was very concerned with a potential child they couldn’t get distracted now.

Cetina pushed them off the street as a group of Knights, the same yellow Knights that accompanied Belinda, charged past. Some gave Anton a cursory nod and continued to ride into the city. Anton scanned the street for any further resistance. Harold’s forces weren’t entirely finished yet, though they were essentially broken.

They moved towards the last gate, dealing with several small groups of Church forces that hadn’t fled or surrendered. Bernard and Marcus stood nearby, their archers, Knights and infantry, were trying to shoot the few defenders on top of the last inner wall of the castle. These Church soldiers wore decent armour, not just white cloth, and used their defences well.

“A little help?” Marcus laughed. An arrow landed close, throwing up a small plume of dust alongside fragments of stone from the street. “They’re being a little stubborn up there.”

“Not a problem.” Anton smiled.

He directed the Lightning Crows to strafe the defenders. The archers ran for their lives, tumbling over each other to avoid the blasts. A hailstorm of arrows flew wildly into the air, Anton felt sorry for anyone that would be struck by a rouge arrow, but they didn’t hit a single Lightning Crow. Using the creatures like this was a little unfair but undeniably effective.

“How is the battle going?” Anton asked.

“No sign of those Stitch Soldiers?” Verona chimed in.

Bernard shook his head. “Not yet. Strange things…The only place left is inside the main castle. That might be the best place for them, where we can’t overwhelm them with numbers.”

“We’ll just need to use volleys of arrows or bolts,” Marcus said. He looked to the wall filled with screams, two archers jumped over the wall to avoid the lightning strikes, only at the last moment realising how far they had to fall. Marcus winced as they smashed into the ground. “Or that. If we can get a hold of them.”

“They’ll probably just regenerate again.” Anton mused. “But they clearly have some limit. Are you ready to move in?”

Bernard pointed down a street. Dismounted Black Rider Knights approached, all ready to fight.

“Alright then.” Anton summoned a Fire Octahedron. “Let’s get this thing over with.”

With the third Octahedron bomb the gate ripped clean open, throwing red hot stones and semi-molten iron in all directions. Verona shielded their side from any wayward flying stones. A single small metal gate, leading into the main castle was all that stood in their way. That and a huge wall of Stitch Soldiers, easily two hundred in number. These were extremely well armed and armoured but refused to advance. A plucky infantry tried to advance but a Knight grabbed and pulled him back, hard enough to lift the man’s feet off the ground.

“They’ve been told to kill anyone that gets past the gate.” Anton smiled. “They can’t understand complex orders so we’re safe, for now. But we’re not going to wait.”

“That’s too many for you,” Kal murmured. “Caiden…”

“I know.” Anton looked to Cetina. “Can you put down the portal stones?”

“Okay…”

Anton stopped just a step before the shimmering white portal. He created and released seven tethered flame pillars underneath the Stitch Soldiers.

“I’ll be back in thirty seconds.” Anton stepped through the portal.

He arrived back inside the Portal building in Atros. The Atros guards regarded him some slight confusion. Anton smiled, gave a single nod and counted down to thirty. He stepped back through, back to Clausonne and to a line of red hot stone before the castle gate. The Stitch Soldiers were simply not present, either evaporated or transformed into ash gently raining down upon them. Once light brown stone were now stained black with soot, but most importantly there was no one barring their way. Cetina quickly recovered the portal stones and stuffed them back into the bag.

“A little anti-climatic. Charge!” Marcus yelled. “Avoid the burning sections unless you’re stupid. Anton. Can you…”

Marcus looked to the ground as Kal grabbed Anton’s arm hard. For a moment Anton thought it was another Demon portal but she pointed down. The stone dust around their feet vibrated and shuddered, tiny rocks emerged as the smaller particles shifted below. Anton focused and he could feel something underneath his feet, something from inside the castle.

“Fall back!” Marcus waved at the charging Knights and Infantry. “Fall back now!”

The better trained Knights responded first, some had to grab the Infantry, as everyone began to retreat behind the gate.

“Even I can feel it now,” Verona mumbled.

Cetina rested her shield onto the stone ground. It rattled and clanged with the tiny vibrations.

“Another Caiden?” Anton asked.

Marcus shrugged. “Most of the Church soldiers we captured don’t know a lot. They’ve said that the leaders have been holed up inside the castle ever since the coup. Who knows what they’ve been doing. Not even Alfred’s spies could gain access.”

The last metal door opened, a church soldier, high ranking judging by his armour, squeezed through the tiny gap. His arm bled profusely. After taking a single step he recoiled back from the red hot stone, glanced up and smiled in genuine relief. An archer readied to strike the soldier down but Marcus ordered a halt. The Church soldier ran around the fires, only halting when a sword was almost thrust into his throat.

“You need to get out of here!” The man cried, grabbing a nearby soldier. “You need to run!”

“Small words,” Marcus ordered. The church soldier took a few short breaths. “What’s happening?”

“Something. Something big from the dungeons.” The man shook uncontrollably. “I don’t know what it was but it killed everyone! I ran away…You need to get out of here!”

The rumbling began to grow louder, no longer just a continuous shaking but now interspaced with deeper tremors. The Church soldier whimpered and tried to run away. Marcus ordered his men to capture him, the man was more than willing to be taken prisoner so long as they were taking him away from the castle.

Screams began to emanate from behind the castle door, cut short but a terrible crashing sound. The door opened again and a stream of Church Soldiers ran out, far more gravely wounded than the first. They were so terrified they didn’t see and ran straight through the red hot stones.

“Why are you running?!” Something growled from deep inside. The voice was wet and slurred its words. “You can’t fight without your weapons, you fools! Stop running!”

The fleeing Church Soldiers did indeed not wield any weapons, shields or even helmets. Anything easily discardable had been left behind to shed weight.

“I am the King!” The door groaned, metal twisting and groaning as something forced it open. “And you will listen to me! I wear the crown, no one else!”

Marcus looked to Anton, not exactly worried but just confused. Anton held the same expression, but underneath his heart was pounding.

“What’s happening?!” A shout came from behind. Leo, Bernard and Castor advanced on foot with a large detachment of Knights. “I thought you would have made it inside by now. It’s just an iron gate.”

“Bernard!” Marcus spared a glance for the door as it clanged again. A Church Soldier desperately tried to claw its way out but was drawn back in, screaming while bloody hands clawed at the stone floor. “Get Leo out of here. Now!”

“Understood.” Bernard nodded to Castor.

Castor raised the King high, ignoring his shouts of protest and slung him over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Leo was more annoyed than angered. “I…”

The iron gate ripped free of its hinges, careening several meters across the ground while dragging a mutilated corpse of a Church Soldier flattened against the underside. Something moved in the darkness, something scraped along the stone walls. Anton readied to unleash another set of tethered fire rings but he lost concentration when it was exposed to the barest hint of the light. To say it was hideous was an understatement; a giant ape-like creature with the tell-tale skin and deep purple fissures of a Stitch Soldier slowly pulled itself forward on its knuckles. The wounds were not closed with black stitches, rather the worms had grown into thousands of twisted filaments that swung back and forth, some latching onto each other and ripping themselves apart only for a new set of worms to emerge. The face…What was left of it, was a bulbous and overly muscled parody of a human. Its jaw had essentially snapped off and swayed detached from his head, suspended by knots of flesh, the tongue was now just a bundle of the worms while its eyes were identical to Caiden’s. What was once a head of blonde hair had been stretched over its entire bulbous head, sparse and limp. The muscles of the beast rippled and tensed with an unimaginable strength as its right arm pulled itself forward, ripping stones bigger than Anton’s head free with seemingly no effort. Its worm eyes looked to the light and winced, the worms constricted around the bright centre just like an iris’s contraction. It continued to pull itself forward, though most of its body was still hidden by shadow.

“Where are my soldiers?” The beast asked, great blobs of saliva dribbled down its broken jaw, some spilling around the knots of worm flesh. “They are supposed to be here.”

“Harold?” Leo blinked repeated. He punched Castor’s head and sprung loose. “Harold! What happened to you?!”

The beast’s eyes snapped towards Leo. His bulbous face’s brows furrowed, a tongue licked the front of his face.

“Leo!” Harold snarled. “I am the King. Not you!”

“Was he dim?” Anton asked.

Leo shook his head. “No. He was smart. Just sickly…and weak.”

Harold’s left arm remained stuck in the stone corridor. He grunted and pulled himself free, finally into the light for all to see. Verona and Kal squeaked upon it coming into the light, Cetina managed to hold herself together, barely. The others weren’t doing so well. Leo was left utterly speechless.

While Harold’s right arm was relatively normal, at least humanoid and ape-like, and he used his knuckles to walk on, his left was anything but. It took Anton a moment to understand, to process, what he was seeing. It was almost the same as his right but the skin was far, far lighter, alongside a piece of white cloth was stuck in the folds of worms. Underneath lay the remains of a woman, stretched over his massive arm, with her stretcg head dangerously close to the ground and coveringthe back of his hand, her legs folding outwards off his elbow and flailing about loosely with every movement. One arm merged with his skin and disappeared underneath Harold’s knuckles, the other wrapped and embedded deep into his wrist, like a fleshy watch. Once long flowing hair had stretched, just like Harold’s, but great chunks of her skin were missing. With every movement of Harold’s hand it pulled the hair underneath, ripping it free. But, it was her stomach that brought bile to Anton’s throat. Her stomach had ruptured; two elongated hands, a mixture between normal flesh and the mutated Stitch Soldier’s grasped wildly at the air with slick clawed fingers. It whimpered, a baby’s cry.

“I…” Leo vomited, pushing the soldiers away. They were too stunned or scared to respond in any shape or form.

Harold crawled forward, great beads of saliva dripping free from his mouth. “You should be afraid.”

With every movement the woman’s body bounced and rocked about. Anton couldn’t find the words…

“I have received the blessing of The Holy Father himself. And I am now more than strong enough to kill you and Lila.” Harold licked his lips, a fleshy tongue lolling about inside his open mouth. “I might have some fun with her first.”

Anton was glad that Harold’s genitals had seemingly disappeared. He hoped they stayed that way.

Harold’s muscles tensed as he attempted a jump. Anton threw a Fire Lance and Kal an enchanted arrow. Both struck Harold in the face as he was about to launch into the air. He whimpered and swatted away the flames, unaware of the woman’s legs hitting his face.

“It hurts!” Harold whimpered. “It hurts. Mother. Where are you? It hurts!”

Harold’s overly muscled fingers ripped away pieces of skin on his face, only to regrow nearly instantly.

“Where are you?!”

“No…” Leo whimpered, shaking his head. “She’s right there.”

Harold looked back to the castle. “Where are you mother? Are you hiding from me?”

Anton threw another fire lance, striking him in his hind legs. Again his magic had been dimmed, not by much but the effect was noticeable.

“It hurts!” Harold stamped his rear leg. “You can come out. Please come out.”

Harold’s right hand held the stone wall as he peered inside.

“We…We are chosen by The Holy Father, just like you said. What do we possibly have to fear now?”

“He’s lost it,” Verona said softly.

The stones gave way underneath his tremendous strength. “Where are you? Valérie! Come to me now!”

“She’s on your arm!” Verona shouted.

Harold pulled away from the entrance, the stone fragments dropping to the ground from his hand. He wasn’t angry. Merely confused.

“What?”

“She’s on your arm!” Verona pointed to her own left arm. “She’s right next to you.”

Harold looked to his left and raised his arm. His chest was just as impressive as the rest of his body. He frowned and looked at the ground, spared a glance at Verona and finally looked to his shoulder. One of the woman’s legs, presumably Valérie’s, slapped his face. Harold brushed it away with his face, just as his worm-riddled eyes widened in shock. He moved more upright, his legs were short but bulky to accommodate his weight, and pulled the skin around. A whimper escaped his lips as he pulled his skin down.

“Wh…What?”

Harold’s fingers tried to grasp around the leg and accidently tore it clean off. He let the leg drop before pawing at the rest of his arm. His fingers brushed against her ruptured stomach, where the small hands continued to claw hopelessly towards the sky. Unfortunately, he was simply too strong and broke the limbs off, crushing them flat against his skin. The baby creature screamed, Harold immediately panicked.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ll get you out of there.” Harold dug into his skin, underneath the broken arms and began to rip it free. “I’ll get your mother out of there next. Just you wait.”

“Stop this.” Leo whimpered. “Just stop. Please.”

Anton hadn’t attacked out of a morbid sense of curiosity. Unlike the Demons, no one had launched a panicked attack. After tethering seven fire rings together he released them underneath Harold. Harold paid the rapidly glowing stones no mind as he ripped something free from his arm. Anton couldn’t tell if there was actually a baby inside the massive bundle of flesh but Harold held a look reserved for a mother. The real mother’s arms and head rolled about lifeless as he gently began to stroke something at the centre, a strange lovingness to his face.

Harold stepped away from the castle just as the flaming pillars erupted into being. He screamed, throwing the baby bundle free of the flames to smash on the far wall. Harold screamed and writhed as the flames consumed his body. When the flames died down Harold emerged, badly burned and charred but still alive.

“This is going to be like Caiden all over again.” Anton mused. “This isn’t going to be good…”

Harold whimpered as the charred fragments fell away as fresh, unburnt skin took its place. He looked at Valérie’s burnt body. Her body wasn’t recovering, it remained a charred corpse with blackened stumps.

Harold began to tremble as his fingers traced over her head, crumbling into black dust that blew away with the updraft of the red stones. The trembling rapidly turned to anger.

“Here we go.” Anton created a Flame Lance. “Everyone, Attack!”

Harold scratched his feet on the ground. “I’ll kill you, Leo!”

Castor picked Leo up once again, threw him on the back of a horse and fled with all possible speed. Harold cared not, too consumed with rage, and gave chase. Anton pushed the girls forward and out of the gate while throwing several Flame Octahedrons at Harold’s face. These ripped through his skin, deep to his bones that were now far larger than a human’s. The worms began to rebuild as a Lightning arrow struck deep into his bone. Though it did little damage to his skin it crippled and stunned his arm. His weight carried him forward, the Knights and Infantry ran for their lives as he careened into the stone gatehouse. The soldiers tried to hack at his body but were struck by the writhing protrusions. Most were just knocked aside, broken bones and armour, but some were struck in the chest. They began shaking and writhing, the worms crawled underneath their skin.

Blood shards decapitated the unfortunate few and began to slice into Harold’s body. Verona grunted, the shards were cutting through but Harold’s regeneration was simply too quick. Even with the shards acting like a saw it couldn’t overcome him, several shards were completely consumed and buried within. Verona had to work extremely hard to rip them free and begin cutting again.

“It’s not working.” Verona clumped the blood together and drove a massive spike through Harold’s back. He shouted in pain but continued to rise up, even with his body ripping itself to pieces along the crystallised blood.

“How do we kill this thing?” Kal asked.

“The same way we did last time.” Anton fired a barrage of small fireballs. “A shit ton of magic and we’ll simply overcome its regeneration. Though we’ll need to be quick with this one.”

“Easy then.” Verona shattered her blood and threw the shards into his head.

Harold groaned in annoyance, smashed the shards away though Verona continued to stab his hand with the smaller fragments, and began to run after Leo.

“Stop him!” Marcus ordered.

“How?” A panicking Knight asked.

“Anyway, you can think of,” Marcus yelled, taking chase on foot. “Use your corpse if you have to.”

The Knight looked back to the dead partially transformed soldiers.

Following Harold wasn’t difficult. The monster was large, loud and left a trail of destruction in his wake. A few brave soldiers had tried to stop his charge but were either flattened, cast aside or had begun the transformation into a pseudo Stitch Soldier. Verona did what little they could and put them out of their misery.

“Where are you, Leo!” Harold yelled, his garbled voice echoed throughout the narrow city streets. “Where are you!”

Harold had cornered Leo in a dead-end street. Slowly Harold advanced, his hands ripping through the stone street. Castor raised his sword and tried to shield Leo behind him. Harold snarled and knocked Castor away with a simple swat. Bones broke and metal bent as he crashed into the nearby building. Leo backed away on his rear, too terrified to hold the sword and let it fall from his hands.

“I’m going to kill you, slowly, for everything you’ve done to me.”

Harold opened his jaw and swooped down upon Leo. Three tethered fire Octahedron’s smashed into his side, covering Harold in blinding hot flame and throwing his body into the building nearby. The wooden structure began to collapse around him as he tried to struggle free. Flames began to consume the building, hopefully it would become Harold’s tomb.

“King Leo!” A Knight reached the terrified King before they could, dragging him to relative safety.

Bernard dragged Castor away, unconscious and barely breathing, and was quickly healed by Anton.

“Thank you,” Castor whispered.

“Someone take him to safety,” Anton ordered. “Until Harold’s dead this isn’t over.”

The flaming building began to shift once again. Beams of burning wood tumbled free, Harold rose up but something was different about him. His jaw was closed and his mouth bloated. Something was sucked inside, Anton caught a flash of something pink. He stumbled out, Anton attacked him again to limited effect, and vomited out three people; a family hiding from the war outside; their eyes and skin were identical to Harold’s, the worms hard torn through their bodies to create a few writhing worm filaments sticking out from chest and back, even the young boy.

“Sick bastard.” Verona threw her shards at the infected family.

The boy didn’t dodge by the adults moved with a speed greater than even the Stitch Soldiers. They ran at the soldiers and, even unarmed, began to beat them back, literally smashing their hands into their metal shields. Their unarmed strikes dented steel and splintered wood. A quick strike from a sword, cleaving their head in two, did little to slow them down. Only when hacked into tiny pieces did they stop. A charge shot up Anton’s tail, slightly more than the Stitch Soldiers but still manageable.

“I can see a way forward now.” Harold chuckled, shrugging off another strike. “I just need more…”

Harold looked to the ruined building. Families moved forward to see what had destroyed their homes. Upon witnessing the horrible reality they recoiled and the young children screamed. Harold licked his lips, the fleshy worm tongue pushed through the gaps in his cheeks.

“Get out of there!” Bernard yelled. He threw a spear into Harold’s back, alongside another barrage of attacks from Anton and Verona.

Harold paid them no mind as he crawled up and ripped through the building. Though hidden by his bulk Anton heard the families scream, screaming in painful transformation and begging to not be let go, begging to any god to save them.

Anton used what charge he had to create a Marble Spear.

“Cetina?” Anton didn’t look away from the transforming Marble Spear. “Can you do something for me?”

“Yes?” Cetina looked back nervously. “What could you possibly want from me right now?”

Verona and Kal shared the same expression.

Anton grasped the Marble Spear tight. “Killing Harold will create a lot of…charge, for me. It’ll definitely reach the base of my spine. I don’t know if something happens if it does, but if I start to change, into something like that…I want you to cut my head off.”

“What?” All three yelled.

Verona grunted, directing the shards away from Harold and to twenty transformed people charging towards them. They were fast and strong enough to shrug off a few crossbow bolts, except to the head, and some fast enough to doge Verona’s blood shards.

“What do you think you’re saying?!” Verona grabbed his collar hard, shaking him back and forth.

Anton held her hand tight as he readied to throw the spear. “You know exactly what I’m saying and why.”

Verona angrily barred her teeth. She said nothing and thumped his chest. “Don’t lose yourself if something happens. You have a lot of people that you’ll disappoint if you die. Not to mention our children. And everything else…So don’t you dare become anything like that!”

“I won’t.” Anton nodded. “I’ll think of something, I just don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

Verona thumped his chest again. “You’d better not!”

Cetina grit her teeth but still gripped her sword tight.

Verona focused her attention on the fight before them. Harold began to climb again, eating more people and hitting others with the worm protrusions bursting through his skin. He thrust his hand into a level, retracting it with screaming people attached to his fingers, kicking in desperation as the transformation ripped through their bodies, the few not affected desperately trying to pull their doomed loved ones free.

Anton threw the Marble Spear, sinking deep into Harold’s fleshy back, the shaft exploded and disintegrated but the tip remained. The white corruption spread far slower than even Caiden’s, through the thought tether Anton could actually feel Harold’s deepest emotions; anger but mostly fear. Not fear of him, or of any form of violence, but simply being alone, like he was stuck in a well and couldn’t get out. Perhaps things could have been different, a different path could have been set for Harold, but such things no longer mattered.

“Don’t hit that part,” Anton yelled. “I might be able to end this!”

“You heard him,” Marcus yelled. “Target the legs and arms. And the transformed people.”

Harold clawed at his back as the white markings continued to spread. Verona transformed her blood into a large blade and cut deep into Harold’s left arm. He screamed, not from the pain but the knowledge Verona had just destroyed what little remained of Valérie. The sudden burst of pain brought a tiny hint of lucidity to Harold, quickly consumed by whatever created the Stitch Soldiers and Anton’s own corruption.

“How dare you!” Harold threw back his hand, ripping the transformed people free and sending them timbling onto the stone street. They immediately rose up and began to charge. “How dare you hurt her! After everything she’s done for me…I had someone that actually loved me.”

“You killed her,” Anton mumbled, not intending for Harold to hear.

Anton threw another Marble Spear at Harold. This landed in the back of his leg, again beginning the transformation. Only one tether came from Harold but the resistance to Anton’s will was slowly eroding.

“No!”

Harold grabbed his transforming leg well above the corruption and began to tear it free. A giant blood shard drove into his hand and deep into the leg. The wound caused an eruption of worms and knitted the wounds together.

“Get out of my head!”

Harold rolled his fused leg over a large wooden beam, fighting Verona’s blood shards, and drove the wood deep into his flesh. A flash of pain flew into Anton’s head, just a signal, as Harold gripped down hard and ripped his leg free. The white corruption jumped forward and consumed the limb, Anton still couldn’t control it but Harold was definitely heavily wounded. Slowly the worms began to squirm and reform the leg. Anton threw a Fire Lance at the recovering wound, shredding the new worms.

Anton ordered his few remaining summons to attack Harold. The soldiers behind, firing a volley of arrows and bolts, shouted in surprise as small Fire Imps ran through their feet. They leapt up the destroyed building and dove onto Harold’s back. Their small flaming swords and claws hacked at the fleshy tendrils erupting from his hide. While they couldn’t cut deep the flames caused some damage and kept Harold occupied as the white corruption continued to consume his body. Half of his back had turned white, Anton still didn’t have any control over Harold yet.

Harold pushed himself further into the building as a volley of magic, large shots of fire, ice, earth and fire struck Harold’s rear. It was their Principle Mages finally reaching the battle. In the distance Anton saw the red gleaming of the Red Salamanders approaching.

“Don’t stop!” Anton yelled.

The Mages responded with another blast of magic. Anton wanted to use more powerful fire magic, the most effective attack against the Stitch Soldiers, but the threat of creating a firestorm was too great. The Principle Mages held his reservations.

Verona grabbed Anton’s hand. “I’ll cut open his back, then you hit him with everything you’ve got left.”

Verona’s blood coalesced into a giant spike that rammed through Harold’s remaining leg, the other continued to slowly regenerate. Harold grunted and threw back another batch of infected humans. Verona grunted and pulled Harold back with all her might. He slipped free, leaving a batch of partially infected humans on the levels above. She broke a part of the blood free and rammed it into his back, close to the Marble Spear’s point, and pulled it apart. The writhing worms tried to knit the gaping wound together but Verona broke off tiny fragments to cut the worms as they flailed wildly in the air. Anton threw a barrage of Fire and Lightning Octahedron bombs into the hole. Harold screamed, great plumes of charred flesh and acrid smoke flew into the air, but Anton felt the tether shatter. The explosion destroyed the tip of the Marble Spear, the white corruption began to fade away.

Harold began to sway back and forth, Anton downed as many Dark Elf mana vials as he could, and released a lightning ring over Harold. The former king struggled to remain upright. Verona ripped her shards free, the wound slowly healed itself, and drove them into his shoulders and hips. Harold screamed as he was dissected, Verona ripping and pulling the limbs clear. Anton directed the two remaining Fire Imps to destroy the worms attempting to pull Harold back together.

“Stop!” Harold pleaded. “Stop, please!”

Anton knew Harold couldn’t be trusted, if it even was him in there anymore. He and the mages attacked the main body, again and again, burning and ripping at his wounds, driving deep into the fleshy mass. Slowly the regeneration began to slow as Harold’s angry pleas turned to pathetic whimpers. The worms from his limbs slowly lost their vigor and fell limp. Harold tried one last time to rise up but Verona wasn’t going to let him. She drove all of her blood directly behind his head, impaling him into the ground. With a final shudder Harold collapsed. Life, such as it was, was leaving him. His severed limbs lay scattered near the broken and still burning buildings, scattered amongst the hundreds of people he had transformed. He tried to pull himself up but Verona stabbed him again in the chest. Harold whimpered and collapsed onto the ground. Everyone kept their weapons trained, the Principle Mages held their staves tight through quick breaths and shaking fingers, but Harold refused to rise again.

“Is that it?” A Knight asked, the first person to speak after what felt like an age.

“Not yet.” Anton summoned another two Fire Imps as Leo and Lila pushed their way through the crowds.

Leo and Lila approached Harold’s incapacitated form, united in their hatred and disgust of their brother. Verona turned Harold away from the building to face his siblings. The strain caused Verona’s shards to dig in deep, rupturing part of his face. Harold grunted, a single worm-riddled eye looked up at them, constructing in anger but quickly faded away.

“Are you here to gloat?” Harold snarled through his broken, rolling jaw. “Gloat that your little brother got what he deserved? That he actually fought for something when he was given nothing?!”

Verona drove the spike deeper.

“Nothing…” Lila shook her head. “You honestly thought you had nothing? Throughout our entire lives we’ve never had to want for anything, you especially. I’ve spent nearly every waking day since the coup starving, thirsty and worrying that I might be raped and sold into slavery. Or sent to you. While you were living here…with our mother…”

Lila shook her head. Her face contorted in revulsion upon looking at Valérie remains fused with Harold’s arm. She gently held Leo’s hand and walked away, not sparing Harold another moment.

“Lila? Lila!” Harold tried to rise up on his stumps. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“I honestly don’t think she cares.” Leo smiled at Harold, only eliciting a glare of anger. “And to be honest, I don’t have much energy left for you. What…What is there to say? What could we possibly say to each other now?”

Harold, for a single moment, appeared genuinely remorseful. He looked over the destruction, the dirty sweat covered soldiers then to the burning buildings trailing smoke into the sky.

“How did you become like this?” Leo asked. “You clearly didn’t do this to yourself.”

“If I find Abeau I’ll kill him.” Harold snarled. The realisation that he would never get that chance washed over him. “That man did this to me?”

“And did you kill him?”

“I don’t know. I just know that he’s alive.”

Leo looked at Anton, rubbing his eyes with his mailed fist. “The castle has many secret passageways. Abeau had more than enough time to find them all. He’s long gone by now.”

Leo turned back to Harold. “Farewell, brother. Tell Giles that he was the second most foolish of us. At least he didn’t become…this.”

Leo shook his head and walked away. Harold tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. His jaw flapped open but it quickly fell loose, collapsing alongside the rest of his body. The remaining eye focused on Anton.

“So, heretic, will you be the one to kill me? Are you going to corrupt my mind again?” Harold’s body shuddered. The worms began to move once again. Endurance was their kinds most prominent advantage. “That black lightning eating away at my every thought? I don’t know much about magic but I know that you can’t have much left in you.”

Anton downed the last mana vial. “That’s the last one I can have today.” He began searching through the rubble for a large stone. “But there are ways to kill you without having to use that much magic. And I don’t want to be nearby when you die.”

Harold laughed.

“I’d really like to know what type of magic was used to create you.” Anton found a large enough stone. “Not so I could make more of you, but to understand what happened. I presume that the place that made you is still in one piece?”

“No idea.” Harold’s legs began to regrow, the mages looked with rapidly increasing concern. “I can’t remember that far back.”

“We have time. Cetina? Could you set up the portal?”

Cetina gave a curt nod.

“Verona? Cut deep just behind his head and get ready to move this into it.” Anton held the stone tight. “Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, in ten seconds make this stone burn with the heat of lava until the sun sets.”

“What’s lava?” Harold nervously chuckled.

Verona’s blood shards cut deep into Harold’s neck, took the stone from Anton’s hand and hurriedly dropped it inside. The worms knitted themselves around the stone, trapping it deep inside his body.

The portal back to Atros burst into life. Anton kept himself but one step away from passing over the white disk. Harold’s bemused face instantly turned to excruciating pain. Rancid smoke burst through his skin, ripping apart his flesh as it began to glow. His mouth acted like a chimney and stream of smoke, interlaced with spurts of burning worms and boiling drops of dark purple blood. Harold tried to struggle up, not that he could do anything to remove the stone deep within him, but Verona broke apart her blood shards and impaled his regrowing limbs, keeping him pinned as he boiled from the inside out. There was no cheering, no elation or anything remotely positive in the faces of the survivors.

“Keep pushing him into the flame until he’s all gone,” Anton said softly. “Don’t leave anything behind.”

The girls nodded glumly but no one said a word.

Harold was right.

What more was there to say?

Chapter 151 - Vol 4 - Closing Evening

Chapter 151:

“Any sign of that child…thing?” Anton asked. He stood before the last castle gate, thrown about like a twig by Harold, and gently tapped the bleeding flattened corpse underneath with his boot. “I’m almost certain that it’ll be able to begin infecting people again.”

“Nothing,” Marcus pointed to the far wall. A great purple stain covered the wall and the base. “It should be there…But…Could it have crawled away?”

“No one really stayed behind to deal with it.” Anton pointed to the ruined stone gate. “Not with that running loose.”

A large group of Knights and soldiers ran past, charging head-long into the castle itself. After Harold’s defeat, all semblance of resistance vanished. Anton doubted there would be much left. The actual leader of the coup, Cardinal Abeau, had long fled, unsurprising given his little to no regard for the common soldier under his command. At least that’s what the existence of the Stitch Soldiers told him.

“The Principle Mages haven’t found anything either.” Marcus gently shook his head. “And until we do we can’t relax. Hundreds of people died to Harold alone. How much damage can something that small can do?”

“Skulking through the sewers,” Verona grumbled, her hand mimicking how the creature would likely walk. “Through the shadows and tiny alleyways, preying on small families and those left homeless by the battle.”

“A lot,” Kal said softly. “A lot of damage. Many innocent families will be torn apart by that creature…One is simply too many.”

Anton summoned a small flock of Lightning Crows. “It’s not much but these guys will help search for it. So long as it’s still in the city I’m sure they’ll find it. Hopefully.”

The Lightning Crows dispersed into the sky.

“Where are Leo and Lila? I don’t want them starting another war. Not after this destruction.”

Marcus folded his arms. “If you are there it might…dampen their enthusiasm. Though I don’t think Lila will do something...”

“I’d prefer to not kill any more people today.” Verona mused. The other girls nodded in agreement. “Especially of a potential ally.”

A Blue Firestorm Knight signalled Marcus. Behind him a large detachment of Red Salamanders approached the central castle, Lila rode behind Fabrice with Terill beside her. Anton thought it was odd to have an Inquisitor of the Holy Church by her side but she obviously trusted him greatly. She leant close and spoke into his ear, nodding towards them.

“Lord Marcus,” Lila spoke softly but with authority. “Have your forces secured the castle yet?”

“We are in the process of securing it,” Marcus replied. “But we cannot guarantee your safety if you decide to enter.”

“So where’s Leo?” Fabrice folded his arms, leaning forward on his horse. “Knowing him I thought he’d want to race to plant his rear on the throne. He seemed to doubt Lila’s words.”

“He is currently with Bernard,” Marcus replied. “He’ll be with us shortly.”

“Very well. We will leave our forces here and establish a camp. It won’t be permanent, of course.” Fabrice smiled. “Just in case he thinks we’re about to go back on our word.”

“I doubt he would.” Marcus smiled back, a rather forced smile.

Lila’s forces, a motley gathering of huntsmen led by the infinitely more gallant Red Salamanders, moved to the side and began to establish a small camp. Leo arrived a few minutes later. Castor walked with him, though battered and clearly lightly concussed. Still, it was good to see him up and moving. Lila briskly walked from her camp to the centre of the road, holding her hands clasped before her. She was nervous but held her ground. Leo stopped a meter before her. The fiery rage had disappeared from his eyes. Now it was filled with a reluctant sorrow. Would that last?

“There has been more than enough bloodshed today.” Leo removed his helmet, resting it underneath his arm. “Far too much. Alfred…Said that we should get the division in writing. Formal, and proper. I don’t think this is the right place.”

Leo pointed to the battered door leaking dried red and black, purple blood.

“To think Harold could become something like that…Do you think Giles knew anything?” Leo sighed. “Knowing him…What I thought I knew about all of you, he definitely wouldn’t have gone along with any of this.”

“Terrill said he was killed almost immediately after.” Lila received a nod from the elderly Inquisitor. “I think he got swept up in all the excitement and glory of ruling a Kingdom.”

“And mother…”

Both fell silent for some time. Leo finally shook his head.

“I think we should still head inside. I want to see Clausonne from on high, see what has actually happened to my…the city.”

Lila nodded as they began to walk towards the castle.

Verona tapped Anton’s arm. “Will this end in another war? Or will it work itself out?”

“I have no idea,” Anton whispered back. “But…I don’t know what the better outcome is for Atros. Leo is indebted to us, but he might choose to ignore that and settle our lands as part of his Kingdom. It would be an easy way to regain the land he lost. Lila might be more agreeable but that would result in us throwing our allies away. And if anyone finds out they aren’t going to trust us.”

“If only Belinda could take the throne.” Verona shrugged. “That would make things easier.”

“Hopefully Alfred stays on to advise Leo,” Kal murmured. “Belinda would have to move to the capital but I’m sure she’d like it…Maybe. That was before she changed.”

The Knights of both forces marched ahead of the Royals and readied themselves for a fight. Marcus waved for them to follow. The interior of the castle had been heavily damaged by Harold’s passing; Dislodged stones lay on the floor with several great holes ripped from the wall, the upper layers had collapsed in many areas, blood stained the floors, the unfortunate Church soldiers that were crushed by Harold and pushed to the side and into the wall itself. Fixing the castle would be expensive and potentially very dangerous. As they travelled deeper Anton saw small groups of Church soldiers held captive. Their faces spoke of the horror that they witness, more than one had wet pants. Anton certainly didn’t judge them for that.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Anton asked.

“A very good question.” Marcus tapped Leo’s shoulder. “What are to be done with the prisoners?”

Lila stopped alongside Leo.

“Were these men conscripted or are they loyal members of The Church?” Leo asked.

“We-” A Church Soldier began to yell but had his mouth clamped shut by a soldier.

“We don’t know, you Highness…es. We haven’t had a chance to interrogate them yet.”

I’m sure I could convince them to speak the truth but I don’t have much mana left.

Leo looked to Lila. “For now I’m not sure. Put them with the rest of the prisoners and find out later. But make sure they get food and water. And medical attention. But the civilians of Clausonne come first.”

“Yes, my King.”

Lila raised her hand, stopping Leo. “If they’re inside the castle then they’re probably loyalists. Those on the front were the conscripts. Do you expect fanatics, the same type of people that created the Stitch Soldiers from innocent people and pressed the people into service, to be fighting on the front line?”

Leo rubbed his chin. “Probably not. Still, have them sent with the rest of the prisoners. But make sure there’s a way to quickly identify them.”

“Yes, my King.”

The Church soldiers were quickly pushed along the corridor and out of the castle.

They passed growing groups of prisoners, some had been wounded and some lay dead on the floor, evidently not from Harold’s rampage.

“Leo?” An older woman shouted from deep within the corridor. “You’re alive?”

“Anne!” Leo laughed, rushing towards the woman. She was an older maid, flanked by several younger maids. All held a haunted look. “You’re alive.”

“Somehow.” She laughed weakly. “It’s been hell while you’ve been gone.”

“There seem to be…”

Anne glumly nodded. “Over half. I don’t know what happened to them, they just started disappearing. None of us goes anywhere on our own…But Harold made sure that we only worked in the kitchen.”

“Perhaps he had a sliver of compassion left.” Leo murmured.

“So he’s gone?” Anne asked, tears forming in her eyes. “The whole castle was shaking…”

“I’m glad that you’re safe.” Leo gave her a quick hug.

Lila approached. Anne didn’t know what to say so she, and the other maids, bowed respectfully.

“I’d like to see the throne room.” Leo looked to Lila. “See what mess that idiot has left us.”

“Do you know what happened to Giles?” Lila asked. “What happened to his body? And of father’s?”

“He was thrown into a pit outside the city walls.” Anne sighed. “They made sure to strip him of valuables first. I think your father was put into the same place.”

Leo and Lila shared a glance.

“I suppose you want to see the place that made Harold?” Leo turned to Anton. “Take Terill with you, I’m sure he’d be able to enlighten you on several things down there that don’t make sense.”

---[]---

Anton stood before the entrance to the dungeon. Once it had been guarded, those men were now thin veneers on the wall. The stone walls and floor grew increasingly damaged the further they travelled towards the dungeon. After his transformation Harold must have been nothing more than a raging beast.

“Are you sure you want to go down there?” Terill asked. “I…I know there isn’t anything good in those depths.”

Anton shrugged. “There isn’t another way of discovering where Cardinal Abeau fled to. If I were him I'd be long gone by now. I doubt he’d left much behind in his chambers. Were they in the castle or outside?”

Conrad chuckled. “We also don’t want you destroying anything incriminating. Just in case there’s something with your name on it.”

“There won’t be,” Terill said adamantly. “I knew of this…project, but I thought it was destroyed.”

Conrad waved Leo’s soldiers forward. He wasn’t about to risk his own men, and potentially money, in some trap. Any traps would surely have been activated by Harold’s passing but it was better to be safe than sorry. Smoke assaulted their senses as they descended into the dark dungeon. Anton summoned a small fireball and lit the torches carried by the soldiers. They said a silent thanks and travelled deeper.

The devastation inside caused by Harold was far less than outside. Perhaps he was still transforming as he was escaping and could only thrash against the floor, at least that’s what the many, many broken flat stones forming the floor told him.

Kal pulled on his hand and pointed towards a cell. Thick iron bars had rusted with time and moisture, the points connecting to the stone wall were thick with mosses and algal slime. Beyond that Anton saw piles. Piles and piles of naked corpses. Worryingly some were young, extremely young.

“I'm going to be sick.” A soldier recoiled from the cell. “They’re all filled with them.”

“How many?” Conrad asked aloud. “I think there’s about three, maybe four hundred in each.”

“How many cells are there in the dungeon?” Anton mumbled.

“At least a hundred,” Terill replied extremely softly. “That I know of. This castle holds many secret passages.”

“Vile,” Cetina mumbled. No one disagreed.

The dungeon began to fan out, corridors spreading out in a grid layout. Conrad ordered some soldiers to explore the branches, but only in large groups and to move carefully and slowly. Terill groaned as they followed the line of wreckage to a large door, the symbol of The Church plastered on it.

“You’ve been here a while then,” Anton said.

“Abeau always loved this,” Terill grumbled. “Loved to plaster this symbol over everything. It gives people the illusion that we own more than we do. And after long enough they start to believe it and do what we say.”

The large room inside was the spitting image of the laboratory beneath the Gresir Church. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to find. Nearly everything was broken or burned, clearly thrown about by someone in a mad rage. Precious vials of strange liquids lay scattered and broken across the floor amongst hundreds of burnt books and papers. Something acrid and black stained the roof.

“Not much here.” Anton mused. “At least anymore.”

“Care to guess how they managed to escape?” Verona chuckled.

She pointed to the far wall, a bookcase thrown to one side before an iron door. This too had suffered a strike from the transformed Harold, judging by the damage he was still transforming. Behind that lay a thick iron door, only held upright by a few millimetres of stone. Verona summoned a blood shard and knocked the door free. The empty stone corridor travelled far, faintly illuminated by dying torches, extending far beyond his sight. Anton sniffed at the tiniest hint of salt in the air.

“Is the sea that way?” Anton asked.

Terill nodded. “Yes. I believe so, at least. It’s very easy to become disoriented down here. If you can smell the sea then Abeau is long gone. I wouldn’t hang around…Harold was a great distraction.”

“Probably the only reason why they did that to him.” Anton held his chin. “Terill. How did they do this? You said that you knew of something similar to this.”

“I’m not entirely sure how, but it involves a small crystal placed in an open wound along the spine, usually below the hairline. But…I’ve never seen it do something like this.” Terill shook his head. “I’ve seen some terrible things but not this.”

Kal approached the fluid spilt on the floor. She knelt down and sniffed at the air, even with her mask she recoiled at the smell.

“Smells awful. Like…A sweet rot.”

“I wouldn’t get too close to it,” Terill said, Kal immediately backed away. “If you touch it your skin will burn. Not that’s much of an issue for you…But it’ll damage your armour given time.”

“Right.” Kal quickly returned to Anton’s side.

“So you’ve been close enough to see that?” Anton asked.

“I was told…” Terill sighed. “The researchers said that’s what they were told. No one was willing to touch it after that.”

Anton kept his face flat, silently motioning for Terill to continue.

“The researchers said, before they were…They said that the people that helped them with this research spoke slowly and like they were, well, they were dolls. Marionettes. Flat and without emotion. Regardless, they gave considerable information on how to create these things. However, I deemed it too dangerous and had the program stopped.”

Terill turned towards the castle entrance. “You can see why I made that decision. And how effective my actions were.”

The Ancient Listeners? Weren’t they supposed to be a tiny, impotent cult? Perhaps not, especially if they kept their activities hidden. Did we actually find their main coven or just a tiny outpost? Does it expand beyond this continent? Even beyond Ferula’s sight…Very troubling implications. Just another threat Atros has to worry about. We really need to get the Dwarves and our new weapons.

“I see…” Anton looked around. “Castor, Terill. Have your men look over everything, but make sure that you don’t keep anything hidden. This is beyond any kind of rivalry.”

“One that we don’t even know if it’s going to happen,” Verona added quietly. “We should probably head back up there and make sure they’re not starting a second civil war.”

---[]---

Anton found Leo and Lila in the throne room. Their respective forces stood either side of the once grand room, staring at one another while their leaders focused blankly on the solitary and lonely throne. The Knights glared as they approached, Anton directed them to the rear and began to shuffle around closer, just so he could hear. After all, they had defeated Caiden and now Harold, they could probably just walk straight up to the royals, but this was clearly a personal matter.

Dealing with a deranged and incestuous brother and mother…How does one even begin?

“I can still see the blood.” Leo murmured. He crouched before the throne, running his fingers along the cracks in the stone floor. Though heavily aged faint traces of the blood remained, the blood of his father and a brother.

“They really didn’t try to clean up.”

“Why should they have worried?” Lila sighed. “They had control over who came into this room. Obviously, anyone that could wouldn’t talk. If they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders.”

Leo glumly nodded.

“Everything in this room should be destroyed. And their rooms.” Leo shook his head. “I won’t have anything relating to their taint inside this castle.”

“I heard from some of the prisoners that they were not cautious about their activities.” Lila nodded to the throne. “Multiple times in here.”

“What…Oh.” Leo visibly recoiled. “Even more reason to destroy it.”

Leo waved several Black Rider Knights forward. They ungracefully removed the wooden throne before dragging it outside. Pages and squires descended upon the carpets and tapestry, tearing and ripping them apart like a gang of marauding barbarians.

“I think that we should come back here tomorrow,” Leo said softly. “Finalising this agreement will take time. Time that we should spend elsewhere. I’m sure that you would like to get some rest too. I was running for my life from Harold and I’m quite tired.”

Leo rubbed his temple. “I can barely think straight.”

Lila nodded. “We should take stock of our forces. See how our soldiers are faring. I’m sure it can wait. That creature is still out there.”

Lila scanned the crowds until her eyes fell upon Anton.

“Excuse me, Mage Anton. Have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet,” Anton replied calmly. “They are searching from the sky. But I feel that the creature will hide in the shadows and sewers. It will take considerable time and effort to find it.”

“We shouldn’t get too comfortable until we find it.” Leo shrugged. “We’ll find that…Thing. What do you think it was?”

“I didn’t see it,” Lila said. “But from what I heard it was quite a horrific sight.”

Leo rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to be in this place any longer than I have to, not with their stench still filling the air.”

Kal sniffed at the air, lightly shrugging.

“There are still the traitor’s possessions and estates to confiscate. Their wealth to be given to those loyal to us. I presume that the Knight Orders that followed you will be receiving a significant boon?”

Lila nodded. “Them and the common man too. They all risked their lives in this battle. One could almost say more than either of us.”

Leo silently agreed. “We will meet here again at dawn. Finalise the division. I’m sure it won’t be difficult or long. I just…”

Lila reached out and held her brother's hand, trembling in hers.

“It’s all over now, brother.” Lila smiled. “We can breathe a little easier tonight.”

Leo returned the smile. “I certainly hope so.”

Leo hugged his sister tight before parting. He turned to leave but Lila remained in place, looking again at Anton.

“Mage Anton. Once we have concluded our official business I would like to speak with you. The Centaur Invasion is a pressing and imminent threat. Having you on our side would be a great help.”

Anton glanced to Leo first. While he was under no obligation to serve either, beyond mercenary payments, he didn’t want to upset the King bordering their lands. Leo gave no sign he disagreed.

“Of course.”

Lila returned a nod before following her brother. They began speaking in hushed whispers but Anton saw a faint smile on their faces. The moment they passed through the large doors the Knights, from both sides, moved into action, some exiting the throne room while others turned to small huddles or assisted the Squires and Pages in removing everything that wasn’t stone.

“Didn’t even ask us about what we found,” Anton said softly once everyone nearby had left.

“I’m sure someone’s telling them right now.” Verona murmured. “But I thought I’d see Duchess Belinda here. Kind of hard to miss her, really.”

“Just another informal meeting,” Anton said. “The real one will come tomorrow. Once everything’s been accounted for.”

“And they have ransacked the enemy’s treasuries,” Cetina added.

Kal nodded. “Much easier to pay someone when you’re using someone else’s money. And you actually have it.”

“And what about us?” Cetina gripped the pommel of her sword. “Are we going to return…Home? Or are we staying with the rest of Leo’s camp.”

Verona stuck out her tongue. “I don’t like the idea of sleeping in a camp with hundreds of sweaty men. Especially three young pretty women, exhausted men lurking about outside, looking for a woman to warm their beds.”

“Perhaps an Inn?” Anton suggested. “I’m certain the capital has some. And it’s not like we haven’t earned it.”

“We did save their city, after all,” Kal said. “I’m sure King Leo can afford it, after what we’ve done. It’s not like he’s destitute. Not that he was to begin with.”

---[]---

Anton was a little surprised by what they managed to find; a high-class inn located in the wealthiest district of Clausonne. Of course they simply couldn’t just walk in, though their armour was far better than the last time they visited Qaiviel they could still have been considered uncultured for the establishment, but with a few Black Rider Knights to vouch for their identity it was simple to acquire the entire upper floor for themselves. A small bag of gold coins certainly helped matters.

Anton sat on the end of the soft bed, pressing his hand deep into the cloth.

Last time I was in an Inn in Qaiviel-

Before Anton could think further Verona and Kal entered the room, Cetina was nowhere to be seen.

“What a day.” Anton moved to pour some wine. “A whole Kingdom overthrown in just a day. Could you believe it?”

“Certainly not without magic.” Kal removed her mask, ruffled her slightly matted hair and fur while wiping away the sweat covering her mocha toned skin. “We’d still be here when the snow’s start to fall.”

“Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” Verona said a silent thanks as she took the glass. “Just one should be fine, right?”

“With what I have planned it might have taken even less time. It’s quite difficult to survive a small piece of metal travelling faster than the speed of sound.” Anton smiled. “But I can’t wait to be free of this place. Not that Qaiviel doesn’t have beautiful sights, but I’d rather be home or in The Shadow Isles.”

“Already?” Verona smirked. “We still could see the sights of Cloussone.”

“Absolutely not.” Anton scoffed. “Enough people have died in this place, too many lives lost and ruined. The sooner we can leave the better. I think we’ll all agree on that.”

“How many potential families, or actual families, were lost?” Verona sighed. “How many were unable to convey they feelings? Just like last time…”

Anton looked to the door as he sipped at the wine, again the wine of Qaiviel was utterly exquisite. “Where’s Cetina?”

“She’s just had something to eat and went outside.” Verona motioned to the large glass window. The window was simple clear glass but the sheer size was very impressive, alongside its clarity. “Something about needing to clear her head. Sparring or something like that.”

“Well…It was a big battle. And you three had to watch Harold burn to death.”

Kal sipped at the glass. “While Verona…He screamed for a long time…”

“But I don’t think that’s what she’s worried about.” Verona gently placed the glass down on the table. “The battle is over…And remember what you said about something when we were done in Qaiviel.”

“I do.” Anton placed down his glass alongside Verona's. “It hasn’t exactly left my mind.”

Verona smiled and sat next to Anton, Kal remained standing while she unbound her tail. Anton became acutely aware of his own. It wasn’t bad, but it was a little stiff.

Amazing how quickly you can grow accustomed to something like that. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Anton?” Verona tapped his arm.

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying,” Verona tapped his leg. “That once Qaiviel was sorted, which is kind of is, you’d focus on a certain something. Unrelated, but no sign of that little creature?”

“Not yet.” Anton folded his arms. “I’ve been focusing on winning both of these wars. And surviving.”

Verona nodded seriously. “Exactly. It has been a rough time. For everyone. But I think you should, at the very least, talk to her. She’s a good person and doesn’t exactly dislike you. Even after your changes. Cetina agreed before you two had travelled together for very long, so... Besides, I was the one that made sure that you and Kal got together.”

Kal finished her glass before crawling onto the bed, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s kind of true. I wouldn’t have had the courage to even ask…” Kal smiled. “You have no idea how nervous I was when Verona saw me holding you in Nonbur’n. But Verona gave me, us, the push that I needed.”

Anton didn’t answer immediately. He folded his arms and searched his feelings for the truth, not just the first thing that came to mind.

“I do care for Cetina.” Anton began. “And not because of why we started travelling together. Not to mention everything we’ve been through. I suppose you could say that I do care for her a great deal.”

“And she for you. Not anyone would be willing to…help you. Or act normal if they knew about your changes.” Verona tapped his waist. “Or be still willing to do it knowing how far it spread; a tail and scally legs. But, you know what I think you should do?”

Anton stood up before Verona could speak further, both lightly frustrating and emboldening her. “I’ll speak with her. At least bring up what she was talking about in the Accursed Forest, if nothing else to clear it up. I should be the one making the decisions and actions about my future, not letting others worm or manipulate things behind my back. Like someone I know.”

Verona smiled but remained silent, waiting patiently for Anton to continue.

“Something like that is still hanging at the back of my mind, and it’s a little distracting. After that ambush, we can’t afford any of that. But it’s time I stop being so…passive.”

Anton rubbed his bound tail. “After I received this I’ve been feeling more…Restless and aggressive. Do you think I am?”

Verona smiled sweetly and nodded. “Take your time, Anton. Regardless of what you decide…We’ll just be having something to eat and planning a few things.”

“Planning?”

“What to do next.” Verona smiled. “Where we’re going. Oh, and planning a few rooms for our home. Now that we’re going to spend a little more time in Atros we’re actually going to be living in that building. Maybe actually enough to call it a home, rather than just a place where we put stuff.”

“Something a bit more than just a bed and some wooden chairs.” Kal looked around the room. “More than just the Dark Elf bed. I’m sure Verona would like a workshop.”

“Me?” Verona cutely tilted her head.

Kal slowly raised her brow. “For the feathers?”

Verona laughed. “Right. I hadn’t forgotten, just that…I really want that done by winter. That and some thick clothes to rug up in. Nice and warm while the crisp, cold air washes over your face. That would be really nice.”

“No longer hiding in a cave too.” Kal reached and held Anton’s hand. “Go and talk with Cetina. No matter what she says, or what you decide, you shouldn’t let doubt grow and fester in your heart.”

“Sounds like you know what you’re talking about,” Anton said softly.

Kal could only smile.

---[]---

Anton found Cetina quite easily, it was hard to miss her bright yellow, blue and red clothes, practising her strikes against an unfortunate wooden training post. A thin sheen of sweat covered her face as her eye focused on the splintered timber. Her new armour and weapons laid neatly stacked to the side of the small garden area, currently she wore her older equipment; loose bright clothes underneath simple large plates to cheaply and efficiently cover her most vital areas. Currently she only wore her chest armour and simple boots, the rest was stacked neatly next to the door.

To be honest I haven't seen many women in this world, that aren't nobility, wearing dresses. Sure, some wear shawls but nothing that couldn't be confused with a set of rags. Verona and Kal always wear pants and shirts…

Cetina didn't notice his approach, too engrossed with her sparring, until his shadow cast near her foot. She pivoted on her foot and pointed her sword towards the source. Upon realizing who cast the shadow her face instantly softened.

"Oh. Hey, Anton." Cetina smiled. "I didn't hear you coming. You can move really quietly when you want to."

"I'm more surprised that you want to train after all of that." Anton pointed to the plumes of smoke, still billowing in the cloudless sky after Harold's passing.

"I'm trying not to think about it too much." Cetina lowered her sword until the tip touched the ground. "Could have been my last day…I never want to see another Stitch Soldier in my life. Or...Whatever that thing was in Harold's arm."

Anton glumly nodded. There was still no word as to whether they had located the creature; his Lightning Crows had not and continued to fly aimlessly above. Normally they were all but devoid of emotion, now they felt slightly annoyed they could not complete their task.

"Me neither. I don't feel that great about what I had to do to Harold either. Seems I have a habit of burning people."

Cetina tried to force and smile but it fell flat. Anton, when telling Verona and Kal of the assassination incident, omitted that part.

"So..." Cetina rested her sword on her shoulder. "Did you want something, Anton? I thought you would be celebrating. I was going to come in eventually but..."

Cetina motioned to a simple wooden bench to the side of the garden area. Despite being made from wood it was surprisingly comfortable.

"Are you planning where you're heading next? Winter will soon be here." Cetina smiled at the sky. "I love the snow. A hot breath into the icy air…"

"Kind of. And I am looking forward to the cold." Anton leant back while Cetina leant forward intently. “I made a promise to Verona and Kal...More Verona, that I would take something seriously after we had dealt with Qaiviel."

"Right."

"And we're essentially done. With Harold gone and their lackeys defeated the Kingdom can rebuild. Sort of."

"Right." Cetina shuffled to face him. "Still doesn't explain why you're acting this way."

"Remember...Remember what you said to me in the Accursed Forest? Just after defeating those bandits and mages."

"I do." Cetina nodded. "I didn’t just do what they told me. I have my own will...” Cetina scrunched her face. “Not like those Stitch Soldiers. But it was mostly Verona talking. She can be quite the schemer, can’t she?"

"She’s the reason that I'm with Kal."

Cetina shuffled slightly closer. "How did that happen? You and a half breed Beastkin? You were already with Verona before, right?"

"I was. It was just after another big battle in Qaiviel. She basically pushed us together and we hit it off. I probably wouldn't have done anything if Verona hadn't been so insistent, and I love her for that. The idea of a polygamous relationship was a little strange to me."

"Why?" Cetina frowned, her eye glancing to the ground. "Duchess Belinda was talking about that before. It’s a little odd, I thought you wanted to know if the other Kingdom's and Empire's would declare war on Atros, rather than if they would look down at you had two wives."

"Can you keep a secret? This is something that only a handful of people know, and I don't think they all completely understand."

"I'll try." Cetina backed away, furiously waving her hands. "Not that I won't keep your secret. You-You know what I mean."

Anton checked no one lurked within earshot, took a deep breath, and explained how he was not from this world. Cetina listened well, only stopping him when he spoke a word or phrase she didn't understand.

"Wow...” Cetina scratched her brow, wiping away a few errant beads of sweat. “That explains a lot. A lot of things. So no Beastkin? But...People dress up like them?"

"Kind of."

"What a strange place." Cetina stared at the battered wooden post for some time. "So, I wouldn't have this eyepatch over there?"

"You also wouldn't have been hurt like that. You'd have normal eyes and normal vision."

"That would be nice."

Cetina unfastened her eyepatch and exposed her damaged eye to the air.

"Still feels strange." Cetina rubbed it with the back of her hand. "So that's why Verona had to push you and Kal together. Because where you're from..."

"Right."

"You could tell a hundred people that story, and they wouldn't believe a word of it." Cetina laughed, again lightly tapping her legs. "Thank you for telling me. You make a lot more sense now."

"I thought I did before."

Cetina turned to him, her expression mocking and indignant simultaneously. "Really?"

"I suppose not,” Anton smirked. “I'm sure they just nod and agree to keep me happy."

A silence fell over the garden. Neither said a word as they simply watched the birds and insects dart amongst the small flowers. Though it was a small, fleeting moment Anton felt extremely calm and relaxed.

Cetina finally broke the silence. "What were we talking about before?... We're just sort of wandering at the moment. Why...Why were you asking about if being with Verona and Kal was an issue? I mean, Kal's a Beastkin..."

“It is related to what you said to me in the Accursed Forest.” Anton began. “We were interrupted by the second wave of attackers.”

“Right.” Cetina frowned.

“Well, there is a little bit more to it then what they probably told you.”

Anton, as delicately as he could, explained Verona's plan. Something clicked in the back of Cetina's mind but she quickly buried it and laughed.

"That's one way to ensure loyalty! I don't think just anyone's going to go for it though." Cetina smirked, idly waving her hand. She crossed her legs and lightly bounced a boot back and forth. "Not unless they're willing to share."

"And if they can stand my tail and feet." Anton tapped his boots together. "It's not exactly normal. And I don't expect to find many that’d sleep with a man-lizard."

Cetina shrugged. "It's not that bad. I was more worried that you'd be different, that you’d be a different person entirely. Or that you'd blame me for it."

"I'd never do that."

"Do you remember," Cetina shuffled nervously. "Do you remember what I said in Slihal?"

"There were a number of things," Anton smirked. "You didn't like being my lure."

"No.” Cetina punched his shoulder, quite hard, and she was only partially playing. “Not that...Not just that. But that I was a woman capable of making my own decisions, with what I want to do and with whom?"

Anton nodded seriously.

Cetina rested her elbow on the back of the chair. "I have my freedom to do what I want so I'll just ask. And I want you to answer honestly. Do you think I'm pretty?"

Cetina stared at him with both eyes. He didn't understand if this was some test, that he would shy away from her damaged white eye but, in all honesty, it didn't bother him in the slightest. But he would prefer to have both purple flecked grey eyes staring back at him.

"Yes."

"Wait!"

"You think I'm lying?"

"No." Cetina's lips curled up in the faintest hint of a smile. "But I want to make sure. Use one of those truth prayers on yourself."

"What else are you going to ask me?"

Cetina smirked. "I don't want to take any chances."

Anton did as he was bid, speaking the prayer aloud.

"There. When I remove my hand it'll stop. Will this make you happy?"

"Yep." Cetina vigorously rubbed her hands together. "I could ask so many questions about things I don't understand. But I won't get greedy today. Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Yes. See? I wasn't lying."

"Never said you were. Now...Would you ever trick or deceive someone you hold night?"

"No."

These are some odd questions.

"Alright, last question. Why does the sweet, kind and a little strange Anton turn into a complete sadistic monster?"

Immediately Anton understood that he couldn’t resist the urge to speak, he understood what those he had compelled to speak the truth felt. Something, a force from deep within, took control of his mouth and tongue.

"I like seeing people that hurt those I care about screaming in pain before they die. Screaming and begging for mercy. I enjoy it. I couldn't before so I've always dreamt of the power to-"

Cetina removed the hand from his chest. Control returned to his body.

Anton's whole body shivered as though he'd been thrown into the artic. "Fucking hell, that's a terrible thing to feel. No wonder they wanted me to stop."

Cetina's face contorted in pain.

"I, as your b...No, as your friend, I needed to know." Cetina continued to hold his hand on the chair. "It's something that worries me; that you'll lash out at someone you really shouldn't, or someone that you’d regret hurting. But...You could have pulled your hand away at any moment. Couldn't you?"

"I could."

"So why didn't you?"

Anton knew deep down he enjoyed hearing them scream, begging for mercy and a reprieve they know would never receive. It went far beyond a simple cold dispense of revenge. He wasn't sure it Verona and Kal knew but he suspected they might.

"I shouldn't have pried too far." Cetina removed her hand. "But...I wanted to know."

"It's okay." Anton shrugged. "Just didn't think I would hear it coming out of my own mouth."

"I bet you didn't." Cetina slapped her legs again. "This has made what I was about to ask next, a little awkward."

"And that is?"

“We both could have lost our lives...And I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do next…”

Cetina shot up like a rocket. She said nothing as she walked to her pile of armour, rummaged through the back of the pile to produce two wooden training swords. One she quickly swung in the air, the other she tossed to Anton. As Anton caught the sword Cetina was already wearing her enchanted eyepatch.

Cetina twirled the sword in her hand, readying a simple but strong stance. “Fight me. Now.”

“Because?” Anton still rose to his feet.

Cetina pointed the wooden sword at Anton. “Because if you don’t, I’ll take my horse and leave. I’ll head back to Thessos and rebuild my life.”

“That…”

That’s a threat if I ever heard one. Never thought I’d see one said with such conviction though.

“Just a spar?” Anton checked the weight, the sword was rather well balanced. As far as he knew. “I know that I’m not going to win-”

“Then I might just leave anyway,” Cetina said flatly. “So, you need to beat me, right now, to get me to stay.”

“This…This isn’t something that Ver-”

“No.” Cetina frowned, barring her teeth in anger. “This is my decision. My decision! I don’t need someone else to make it for me.”

“I never thought you did.”

Anton’s words had some effect. Cetina’s face softened but she retained her stance.

This…This is going to be tough.

“And if I win?” Anton approached Cetina. “You’re threatening to leave Atros, your position and myself, if I can’t beat you, of all people, in a pure melee fight. I presume that I’m not allowed to use magic?”

Cetina smiled. “Given what we were just talking about before...”

I wonder if she’s had something to drink? No. Don’t diminish her decision by saying that she’s inebriated.

“Alright then.” Anton swung his sword down once. “Perhaps this will be a good way to blow off some steam. And I can see how much I’ve actually learned.”

Cetina smirked and began to advance.

Well, this is going to end poorly.

Anton knew that he couldn’t win a fight against Cetina, not without cheating in some manner.

She said no magic…But I still have another way.

Anton ground his boot, tearing loose grass and dirt. Cetina didn’t notice, nor understand, what he had planned. Before he could act Cetina was upon him, striking him with all the strength she could muster. They were simple strikes, even Anton could tell where they were coming from, but the sheer strength behind each swung stung and numbed his arms.

“You need to do more than just defend!” Cetina yelled, a slight smile crept through her focus. “Otherwise I’m going to win easily.”

“Easy for you to say,” Anton grunted. “Despite-”

Cetina swung at his head, Anton only managed to doge but somehow it felt like she pulled back at the last second.

Maybe that was it. I don’t think I’ve gotten that good.

Anton held the sword to thrust straight at Cetina’s chest. She backed away, out of his reach but didn’t advance immediately.

“A bit better.” Cetina smiled. “If that was a rapier or a spear you might be able to do something.”

“Your old armour has a lot of open points.”

“How do you think I got so many scars?”

Anton glanced at the scar running across the bridge of her nose before hardening his stance once again. This time Cetina readied herself to defend while glaring at Anton.

Can’t endure many more of those. So let’s finish this quickly.

Anton rushed at Cetina, stopping just as his feet reached the churned grass and threw the wooden sword at Cetina. Surprise flashed over her face as she raised her own sword to block his. She parried it away but it was enough of a distraction for Anton to grab a fist full of dirt and pieces of grass. He quickly ran towards her again, as the surprise rapidly faded, and threw the clod at her face.

“Cheat-”

Cetina staggered back as Anton picked up his discarded sword and struck Cetina’s leg. She grunted charged forward, colliding with Anton and sending them both tumbling onto the ground.

Anton smacked his head against the hard ground, stars covering his vision. Cetina leapt at him with her sword ready to strike at his throat. Anton waited until the last moment before directing his sword up, deflecting Cetina’s strike as she careened into him. His vision was filled with Cetina’s metal chest piece before she hauled herself up, pointing her sword at his throat.

“Looks…When did you do that?”

Cetina looked down to her stomach. Anton’s wooden sword pressed against the cloth, just underneath her armour.

“When you were falling.” Anton smiled. “I was a little worried about actually stabbing you. But it looks like we’re tied. So, what does that mean?”

Cetina frowned at her sword for a moment. She clicked her tongue and cast her sword aside.

“Oh no.” Cetina’s voice fell flat as she refused to look him in the eye. “You got me before I could.”

“Really?”

Cetina pouted. “You cheated.”

“You didn’t say anything about dirt. Or grass.” Anton laughed. “Just magic.”

Cetina punched his chest, lightly for her build, but held a smile. “It was implied. Mostly implied, anyway. You cheated.”

“So does that mean you’ll stay in Atros then?”

Cetina pouted. “You still cheated. That means that I get something else, aside from just remaining in Atros.”

“And that is? We aren’t exactly short of money.”

Cetina smiled and held his cheeks, a hand lightly rubbing over the scars running along his face. Before he could ask Cetina leant forward and kissed him, short and chaste. When she quickly parted her face was red.

“What was that?” Anton spoke flatly.

“A kiss.” Cetina frowned, gripping his shoulder tight. “What did you think it was?”

“Is that your idea of a kiss?” Anton smiled. “It was quite lacking. Though you’re skilled with the sword-”

“You’re…You’re really getting underneath my skin.” Cetina’s eye twitched. “You-”

Anton held her chin and kissed her back. It took Cetina by surprise, for a moment she tried to push away but quickly returned the kiss. This was far more passionate, more adventurous but still rather reserved. When Anton parted, still holding her face while gently pushing her away, Cetina’s bright red face greeted him, something he didn’t expect to see.

Cetina wiped her lips with the tips of her gloves. “I…I didn’t think it would be like that.”

“I thought you said that you’d been with someone before.”

“There wasn’t much of…” Cetina waved her hand in the air. “That. But…I won’t deny that it felt good. Very good.”

“So what happens now?” Anton gently patted Cetina’s thighs. Even through his gloves, he knew they were extremely strong, the way the taught muscles twitched with each touch was quite intriguing. “Are we going to stay like this?”

“Right.” Cetina darted off Anton, momentarily hesitating when she was halfway up. “We have to…”

Cetina stopped as she looked towards the Inn. Anton stood up, judging from Cetina’s slightly wry face he knew who was waiting near the door. Verona and Kal did indeed wait inside, their eyes just peering outside.

“You two were taking so long.” Verona began. “Then we find you two fighting, like you want to hurt each other. That’s not something I want to see from either of you.”

“You were fighting quite brutally.” Kal frowned, quickly transforming to a smile. “Both of you…But I know that Cetina wasn’t fighting anywhere near what she could.”

“I…” Cetina looked away, scratching the eyepatch’s band.

“So many missteps and opportunities missed,” Kal smirked. “Almost like you wanted to lose.”

“Even so I barely managed to win.” Anton swung the wooden sword. “And that was even with cheating.”

Verona clapped her hands. “Cetina? We kind of interrupted something.”

Cetina nodded.

“We can’t exactly hide now,” Verona said dryly. “So you might as well just say it.”

Cetina held Anton’s arm. “Anton, I may not be the prettiest or the smartest, I may lack certain charms of a woman and you may never see me as a wife, but I am someone that will stand by with you no matter what. So…Will you take me as a concubine?”

Kal…Kal was sort of thrust upon me. I should be the one making this decision, not anyone else. Besides, she’s pretty cute and exceedingly loyal…That was sort of my mental justification for Kal too, wasn’t it?

“If you did...” Anton took a deep breath. “What you said earlier, about leaving, I wouldn’t have treated it as even a veiled threat.”

Cetina nodded. “I know. I know that you wouldn’t force this upon me, or anyone, but I have my freedom and my choice. And this choice is of my own free will. No one else's. I want to be with someone that I can trust and that I know has my back, no matter what. And…”

Cetina scratched the back of her neck. “And I wouldn’t mind not going to sleep alone.”

Anton looked to Verona and Kal. Neither had any issues, quite the opposite actually.

“If I didn’t want you to remain by my side then I wouldn’t have fought, or cheated, as hard as I did.”

Verona leant forward expectantly.

“I can’t predict the future, nor how my, or our, feelings will change, but this world doesn’t have the luxury of waiting. Espeically for people like us, travelling and fighting so much. Waiting for the perfect moment…So far I haven’t…From this day forth you will be my concubine.”

Cetina blinked once from Anton’s words. Slowly a smile formed, alongside a more distant and deeper emotion.

“There’s…” Cetina stomped and kicked at the ground. “I will need to have a bath first. Sweat and dirt does not make a good impression. Especially since…”

Cetina suppressed a smirk. “And it’ll give me time to prepare myself.”

---[]---

Anton slipped into the simple bath of the Inn, though simple was probably too harsh a judgement. It was a large wooden bucket, large enough to completely contain Anton if he laid down, with a shallow layer of hot water. The moment his dragonoid feet touched the water a wave of relief rushed through his body.

“After being cooped up in those boots for so long…”

Anton completely submerged himself in the water. When he emerged, only his waist and below was covered with water, he felt his tail begin to relax as well. He directed it to his front and began to massage the scales. Thankfully there were no dry or flaking sections and it looked healthy.

“Never thought I’d have to worry about that.” Anton massaged the four small end tendrils. “I wonder if Eider has to worry about this as well. Does she have to moult her skin or does…I think it just comes off as individual scales.

“That’s what she told me.” Verona’s voice came from behind. “Though it can get pretty bad. Haven’t seen it for myself yet, but…”

Anton craned his head back. Verona stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a white towel pulled tight around her body.

“But she wasn’t great when we found her.”

“She could barely see.” Anton smiled. “At least we could fix that, unlike these.”

Kal emerged from behind Verona, wearing a slightly longer towel, and slowly walked to Anton’s side. He watched and heard her Beast-kin feet, somewhat similar to his own, walk across the wooden floor. He admired the way the inhuman claws moved, the tension building and releasing with every step.

“I’d like a nice relaxing bath too.” Kal slunk next to Anton, resting her arms over the edge of the wood. “I've only had two or three in my entire life. But…It looks like someone else wants to join.”

Kal nodded to a third person waiting at the door. Cetina wore nothing but a towel, the same type as Verona and Kal’s, but she clearly felt it was a little too short. It was also the first time he had seen her without any armour, let alone her Bebbezzarian clothes. Just like he expected her lightly tanned limbs were incredibly well built, especially for a woman, with almost no fat to hide her strong, taut muscles as they tried to pull the towel down along her body. Her toes flexed and gripped on the floor, her calf muscles tensing as she fought through the nerves.

“Why do I have the smallest towel?” Cetina hissed at Verona.

“Because you took so long.” Verona smiled. “We didn’t want to rush you.”

“Well…” Cetina trailed off into nothing.

She shied her sight away for a moment, before taking a deep breath and regaining her composure.

“I didn’t expect to have everyone staring at me.” Cetina managed a smile. “But I suppose…”

“I was expecting to be able to have a bath in peace.” Anton tapped the bath’s edge next to Kal. “And probably something to eat first. None of us has had anything all day.”

“True.” Verona chuckled. “But we’ll worry about that after.”

“So are you here to wash me? Or jump in this bath as well?”

“We’ve already done that once.” Verona laughed, Kal rolled her eyes. “But today that’s someone else’s duty.”

“Duty?” Cetina stepped forward. “I don’t think this is what most bodyguards…”

Cetina knelt behind Anton and unfolded a small coarse cloth. “Could you please lean forward? I can't wash your back if you're leaning against the wood.”

Anton leant forward. Cetina coughed lightly, she had seen Anton essentially naked before and began to lightly scrub.

“You do know, Cetina, that this isn't what a concubine normally does. Right?”

“I know!” Cetina sounded very indignant. “But...Can I have your tail please?”

“Definitely not something you'd normally hear,” Kal smirked.

Anton directed his tail over the edge of the bath. Cetina winced at the sight of it, she clearly still blamed herself to some degree but began to wash it all the same. Cetina's fingers, though not the most delicate, scrubbed hard between the spine scales. A full massage wasn't what Anton was expecting but it felt incredibly relaxing, especially after being bound for so long.

“Do...” Kal frowned. “Do you think the people of the United Empire did stuff like this?”

“Three women to clean one man?” Verona smirked. Immediately it faded. “I'm joking, Kal.”

“Possibly.” Anton mused, Cetina quietly worked her way to the four small ends. “If they treated the Beast-kin like humans than mixed couples would be inevitable. Hell, we've already got a few back home. The Chirok caretakers were far more interested in one another than their job.”

Kal smiled. “I wonder if that'll come again. I-”

“-I still feel like this is my fault.” Cetina cut Kal off, though Anton couldn't feel any malice or ill-intent. “If it...”

“Not another word about it, Cetina,” Anton spoke sternly. “Ever. You've apologised enough for something that wasn't your fault.”

Cetina smiled and nodded.

“So when do I return the favour?” Anton asked as Cetina reached the split in his tail. “Can't just have me being dotted on all the time.”

“Up you get, Cetina.” Verona lightly slapped Cetina's upper arm, her muscles barely moved despite Verona using some force. “Oh, and the towel has to come off too.”

Cetina froze at the thought.

“You can't wear a towel into a bath.” Kal shrugged. “It just isn't right.”

“And you don't have anything to worry about either.” Verona sniggered. “Honestly, you're worrying too much about it. Thinking people will call them weird.”

“They did call them weird,” Cetina grumbled. “Every time...Even when I was travelling with our caravan…”

Cetina slowly removed her towel, while keeping one arm covering her chest at all times. The rest of Cetina's body was just as well built as her arms; obvious lines of strong muscles lay underneath her tanned skin, abdominal muscles on clear display, all twitching from a mixture of nervousness and excitement. However, she refused to remove her arm from her chest. And unlike before, with Kal, Anton wasn't going to let Verona simply do all the work, or make all the decisions.

“I would never think you looked weird.” Anton reached for a towel to cover himself as he rose from the bath. He caught Cetina's eye trail over his covered crotch, not that she didn't know already. “And you know you don't have to use a truth prayer to know that I'm not lying.”

Cetina continued to remain covered. Anton stepped out of the bath, his own feet clacking on the wooden floor, and stood in front of Cetina. Normally she felt, literally and figuratively, taller than him, but right now she looked rather vulnerable. Anton didn't know how he felt about seeing this side of her.

“Whatever you're worried about,” Anton slowly and gently reached for her hand. It twitched but she didn't recoil or make any sign she disliked the contact. “It's going to be nothing.”

“But I'm different from everyone else.” Cetina's voice was almost a whisper. “I've never seen someone like me...”

“Let me see. You can accept me, like this. I can accept you, no matter what worries you.”

Cetina didn't remove her hand but offered no resistance to Anton. As her arm came free she winced, scrunching up her eye and looking away, while Anton tried his best to hide his bemusement.

During their trip to Danafra, Verona had commented on Cetina's bust. She wasn't wrong, Cetina was only slightly smaller than Kal. An impressive feat, given her body type and lack of body fat. Her breasts were probably contained more fat than the rest of her body. Though they sat slightly higher on her body that wasn't Cetina's concern.

“Is that what you're worried about?” Anton forced his voice to remain flat.

“They're wrong!” Cetina almost ripped her hand free from his. “I've never seen anyone with something like that before. I haven't seen many naked women but...I know it's not normal.”

Simply put, Cetina had two very large inverted nipples. The pink nubs were hidden deep within her breasts. Otherwise, they were completely normal.

“I thought you were worried about something serious.” Anton received a glare from Cetina. “Do they hurt?”

“Sometimes.” Cetina sighed. “Especially when I'm moving or swinging my sword. I like to wear an extra piece of cloth over them. Stops it from getting rubbed raw.”

“Unpleasant.” Anton squeezed Cetina's hand. “But something all women, who fight on the front-lines, have to deal with. But I don't think they're ugly or they make you some sort of freak. If anything I think they suit you.”

“Suit me?”

“My powerful and loyal bodyguard hiding such an alluring and sexy body underneath a suit of armour.”

“Sexy-”

Anton pulled Cetina down for a kiss. For a single moment, she resisted, keeping her body away, before moving in closer. Her hands only moved to Anton's shoulder, gripping tight, while pushing her body against his. Anton used his free hand to hold Cetina by the small of her back, eliciting another jolt and a tiny whimper. When they parted Cetina's face was completely scarlet.

“A-Anton.” Cetina tried to laugh but her voice croaked. “I think we should finish our bath first, before...that...”

Cetina would have to be more than unobservant to miss Anton's excitement.

“No.” Anton smiled. “I think we'll go to the bedroom right now.”

Verona and Kal were immediately by his side. It was obvious they too were extremely excited themselves, almost as much as Cetina.

“There'll be time afterwards,” Verona smirked. “But-”

Anton pressed his finger to Verona's lips. She frowned for an instant before her normal beaming smile returned.

“Just...” Cetina gripped his shoulders tighter. “Just be gentle with me. Please? It's been a while and I know that you can be a little rough-”

“You spied on us?” Anton chuckled. “And I thought you were the more noble of us.”

“Not just once either,” Kal smirked. “On The Snow Berry it was every night, wasn't it?”

If Cetina's face could turn any redder she couldn't manage to find a way.

“I would never do anything to hurt you, but tell me if I'm doing something you don't like. Okay?”

Cetina nodded as Anton kissed her again. He dropped the towel, grabbed Verona and Kal’s hands with one as they began to shower him with kisses, Cetina by the waist and slowly pulled them all towards a very large, and soon to be crowded, bed.

Chapter 152 - Vol 4 - Troubling Dreams

Chapter 152:

Anton was not awoken to the early morning rays of a new dawn, washing over himself and now three women that shared his bed. Instead he awoke to a different light, a faint blue light.

“The God’s Realm…Hopefully we can get away without starting a war.” Anton mumbled as he reached for his clothes. Again his tail and legs ached and felt stiff, but the slight charge remained. “After all this I don’t want Atros reduced to a ruined hellscape.”

The interior of the Inn room was identical, however the food and drink had disappeared alongside the girl’s clothes. Only a small neat bundle of his remained, something that had clearly changed from the night.

Outside the Inn’s interior had disintegrated, leaving a pathway of broken floorboards and furniture towards a flat plane of cobblestone street. Five chairs sat around a small table, three already taken up by his gods. The fourth chair was taken up by Fliodher, rocking back and forth while stroking a small grey wolf on her lap. On the far side he spied Jira, resting against a solitary wooden pole like some wannabe gangster.

“Anton.” Esperit, wearing one of her more conservative dresses, waved him over. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Indeed.” Anton smiled at Fliodher. “I’m just happy to see you made it out unscathed. Did Nithroel actually try and attack you?”

Fliodher laughed. “Oh, she did.” Fliodher removed her hood. The wound looked larger than before. “She tried but I was ready. She won’t be trying something like that for a little while.”

“Which is why it is a perfect time to strike.” Esperit slammed her fist into the table. “She is weakened, slightly, but we have enough power to take her down.”

“But she has allies too.” Stratos spoke softly, gently trying to reassure Esperit. “More than we do.”

Esperit grumbled as Anton took his seat.

Tethra, still bound in her chains and white habit, pulled close to Anton and held his hand. “Are you alright?”

Her voice was still hoarse and raspy but every time he met her she was improving, however slight. Now she had two disciples to help grow her power, with hopefully more to come.

“The fight was tough for you, wasn’t it?” Tethra gently rubbed the back of her hand against his cheek.

“It was.” Anton patted her hand. “Do you have any idea what that thing was? Or those Stitch Soldiers? Or why I can control it with the Marble Spear. Or the charge that comes with this thing? Can you tell me anything about…Anything? I know it’s a bit much but I’m stumbling about this thing completely blind.”

Stratos and Esperit shared a glance while Fliodher continued to pat her pet wolf in silence. Anton was still holding Tethra’s hand, it tensed slightly. Jira remained silent and seemingly content to just watch this unfold.

“Not that much.” Stratos shrugged lightly. “You touched an Ancient artefact, something incredibly old, something that should no longer exist. Something…You still have it, yes?”

“We do.” Anton felt Tethra slide her hand out from underneath his. “But it’s being kept in its sealed and protected container. We had no idea it was in there, it was covered in Ghlyirl-”

“Best to keep it that way.” Stratos nodded slightly. “Be careful examining that thing. Or anything like it. It’s not something that humans, or anything older or more powerful, should be touching. You’ve seen what it can do. You…You got off quite lightly.”

“But the Strega Witches want it.” Anton leant forward. “And Cetina didn’t change when she did. Anyway, what could they possibly want with something that can do this?”

Anton ran a hand over his tail.

Esperit chuckled. “Seems like your girls like it.”

“Well, it has changed me. I think.” Anton looked to the ends, slightly glowing. “I think it’s made me more…aggressive.”

“That worked out well for you though.” Stratos laughed.

Are they trying to distract me from the question? We’ll play that game for a little bit.

Anton coughed. “But what are the Strega Witches after? Honestly. They want these stones…And Ferula knows, suspects at the very least, that we have one.”

“That is an interesting question.” Tethra said softly. “From what I know…And that’s very little since I was weakened, they are planning to use it to destroy something.”

“But we don’t know what.” Stratos added quickly.

“What could they possibly want to destroy with something like this?” Anton asked, shaking his tail.

Unless they want to control something…Or something worse, like free something. Or someone…

“And where did I go after I touched it?” Anton relinquished his hold. “Black lightning with a giant white tower. I’ve never seen a place like it, in this world or my old.”

Esperit clapped her hands. “We are getting off topic. The important topic, something more immediate than an inert stone from a bygone age.”

That’s the most obvious diversion I’ve ever seen. You aren’t going to answer the question even if I ask it now, will you?

Esperit’s flaming hair burned brighter and more angrily. “Something that I thought the stupid bitch wouldn’t ever be so stupid to try. Again.”

“You’re certain that Harold and Valérie were influenced by Nithroel?”

“Who else could it be?” Esperit scoffed. “Which other blonde haired, big titted bitch wants Atros destroyed?”

“To be fair I haven’t met that many gods.” Anton smiled bitterly. “But you’re right. It was her.”

Esperit slammed her open hand onto the table. “So that means everything’s open now. That bitch has over-stepped-”

Anton raised his hand. “Can we just pretend this never happened?”

“This meeting?” Stratos raised a brow.

“No…Pretend that Nithroel didn’t try and attack us. Through, albeit, indirect means.”

Jira kicked the wooden post and stepped forward. “You want her just to get away with it?” She rested an elbow on Stratos’s head, something he ignored. “You? You’re just going to let it go?”

“Yes. We don’t have the strength to win yet. And Atros will be left ruined if we fight. The Wood Elves have a sizeable kingdom to the south of Atros, correct?”

“A sizeable one.” Fliodher gently nodded. “If they wanted to take over your lands they’d have no trouble. Well, maybe at Surdon they might-”

“Are you going to show things you’re not supposed to again?” Jira sniggered. She moved to Fliodher and began rubbing her wounded temple. “If you really wanted to I could help you. It’s just a little bit of blood…”

“No.” Fliodher nervously chuckled as she pried her hand free. “No thank you. I’m already wounded enough.”

“Shame.” Jira shrugged. “And here I thought I could make a new friend.”

“You’ve never had any friends.”

Jira’s face fell flat for a moment, recovered the next. She raised her hand but couldn’t think of anything and returned to her wooden post, somewhat angrier than before.

“Anyway,” Esperit almost rolled her eyes, receiving a death-glare from Jira. “You want us to ignore what Nithroel has done? Ignore all the lives she ruined.”

“The Church of the Holy Father were going to launch a coup, sooner or later. Without her involvement they might have succeeded…Maybe; Abeau wouldn’t have presented the Stitch Soldiers without her influence through Valérie, their activities would have remained secret for years, allowing them to continue to grow and perfect the creatures. Imagine thousands of those things descending upon Atros. There would have been almost no one left.”

His gods shared a look.

“If that’s what you wish for we won’t say anything.” Esperit said softly. “No one else knows about this…But I don’t think you should forgive Nithroel.”

“I don’t plan to. I…Don’t like betrayal. Nithroel will pay for what she done. But not yet.” Anton smiled. “Let her think she got away with it. It probably won’t be for a few years yet but she’ll get her comeuppance.”

Stratos chuckled. “And I thought that we’d see another war. Actually get to throw our weight around. Another Conflagration, if we really wanted to rend the land asunder.”

“Not if you don’t want to obliterate this world.” Fliodher said softly.

“-Since.” Esperit tapped her finger on the table. “Since that’s dealt with, there is something that we wanted to tell you. We were going to contact you in a few days, until we discovered Nithroel’s interference. There…There is another portal about to open. A tear between worlds.”

“Two, actually.” Stratos continued. “After the tear opened in Fort Acidava we knew what to look for. And we’ve found two more tears that affect you. One in Bebbezzar and another in Seocuria near the Clansmen border.”

“That’s a long way to travel.” Anton rubbed his beard. “We don’t exactly have the ability to move that quickly until we establish portals…Even with the Chirok’s from Fliodher.”

“I hope they’re doing well.” Fliodher’s pet wolf tried to climb onto the table. “They weren’t exactly having a fun time in The Shadow Isles.”

“They’re doing great. And soon we’ll have harnesses for them. I don’t exactly want to fall to my death.” Anton turned to Esperit. “When are these things going to happen?”

“We don’t know.” Tethra said. “Sometime before the spring. That’s all we can tell.”

“It could be tomorrow morning or just before the snows stop falling. Maybe even after, we just don’t know.” Esperit added.

“Right…I think we have our next destination. Any idea where exactly?”

“No.” Esperit shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“A lot of people are going to die before they’re brought down.” Anton shook his head. “I can’t believe normal people will find it easy for them to deal with them. The Graterious army struggled…Even more so if we weren’t there. These Demons are a terrible threat. Now I know why you wanted me. Even if I know you’d have liked more.”

Tethra coughed. “We do what we can. It is all that any of us can do.”

“That’s all we can ever do.” Esperit smiled. “We can see is there’s a disturbance over the area, nothing more than that. We can’t tell if it’s a permanent tear…If it is the world is in serious trouble.”

“A skilled Principle Mage might be able to close a fresh portal.” Tethra struggled through the words. “But the longer it remains the harder it becomes.”

“Can’t your power do something about them?”

“Yes. But you’d need to touch the portal.”

“And I don’t think you want to go their world.” Stratos chuckled.

“The Demons looked very tough.” Anton glumly nodded. “And who knows if a portal remains open for long enough it’ll start to bleed over to this one. So long as there’s not one over Atros. Is…Is there any way to block these things?”

“There should be.” Stratos nodded. “Nithroel’s territory, regardless of what we think of her, is safe from these portals and tears. I believe the Wood Elven Kingdom to the south has the same protection, which may extend north enough to cover your city. Perhaps.”

“Please tell me if they are. I can’t have Atros fall after everything we’ve gone through so far. There must be a way to stop all of this. Some sort of field, a tower spreading a…field…” Anton looked to his tail. “So what actually happened to me?”

“We don’t know.” Esperit sighed, dropping one elbow on the table. “There are things in this world that even we don’t have complete control over or even knowledge of. Primordial forces…Think of it like that.”

“Wonderful.” Anton gently shook his head. “Will it grow? Continue to consume more of me? Until I end up…”

Tethra tilted her head.

“End up like a giant lizard man?”

“Only if you feed it.” Stratos said quietly. “I wouldn’t kill too many of those creatures at once, and don’t touch any more of those stones. But so far you’re doing alright. Just, be careful with it.”

“Kronique could help, but he’s Nithroel’s little lap-dog right now.” Esperit lightly slapped the table. “But there’s no way he’d help us now…”

Now?

“Why not? Has it something to do with this, or that place I went to?”

“Just be careful, Anton.” Esperit smiled, glossing over his question. “There are many dangers still out there, many that even we are not fully aware of.”

More evading the question…How far can I trust you if you don’t answer my questions? Especially since they’re relating to the White Realm.

“Like this?” Anton held his tail up.

“Yes…Just be careful and don’t try to make it…more.” Esperit clapped her hands.

Definitely hiding something about the White Realm. But beyond you merely invading and taking it over, probably killing those children? Something far more important. But what? I can’t risk alienating any of you, at least until I get some of my ‘projects’ functioning.

“Well, this ended differently than I expected. It’s probably time for us to send you back.”

Stratos laughed. “Thank you for helping the Dark Elves. Even if you had to resort to some…violent means.”

“I’d have preferred to do things peacefully...”

“You should also look below the mountain.” Esperit winked at Anton. “Greater prizes lie in the depths beyond a home for the Dwarves and their precious equipment.”

“We will. Thank you, all of you.”

“Probably time for you to go back now.” Esperit smiled. “Good luck with your journey. And keep spreading the word of the Old Gods. The ones that are helping you, of course.”

Light began to fade and Anton fell back into a deep sleep.

Chapter 153 - Vol 4 - The Qaiviel Kingdom

Chapter 153:

Morning rays awoke Anton, a few errant birds tweeting broke up the gentle breathing of the women crowding his bed. Verona and Kal slept in their customary positions, nestled in the crook of his arms while resting the majority of their bodies on his, while Cetina slept beside Kal. Initially Cetina had fallen, after a long and intense night, next to Verona. She quickly remembered that Verona had trouble keeping her hands to herself. Verona had grumbled something but no one was in a state to care.

I wonder if Qaiviel is where I'll first bed everyone? So far Verona's the odd one out...In more ways than one.

Verona, somehow registering his active thoughts, began to awaken from her slumber. As with every morning, she stretched out her arms with no regard for Anton's face, arcing her stomach up to stretch her muscles to the limit. A quick squeak escaped her lips before collapsing back onto the bed and more importantly, onto Anton. It was probably the biggest drawback to sleeping with Verona.

“Morning.” Verona suppressed a sleepy yawn, a smile creeping up her face. “Do you think we're late for any sort of meeting?”

Anton gently kissed Verona. “I think they would come get us. Leo would undoubtedly want us to stand with him, to show Lila's side that he means business. Not that he doesn't already...”

Cetina snorted once, her head rocking back and forth before succumbing to sleep once again. Her eyepatch lay on a small nightstand next to her side of the bed. Verona giggled at the sight as Cetina's head rocked back and forth.

“Your first concubine.” Verona kissed his neck. “First of many, I think. And you were able to completely subdue her on your first night. Kal and I didn't say those things straight away.”

“I think that someone planted them in her head.” Anton ruffled Verona's hair. “But who would do such a thing?”

Verona laughed. “Who indeed?”

Cetina began to rise for the second time. This time she didn't drift back to sleep. Both her eyes shot wide open, her hands patting down the soft sheets while looking around the room. Finally, they fell upon Anton. Her breath stopped for a moment, a smile slowly broke through.

“So that was...That was sex?” Cetina whistled, gripping the sheets tight. “Now I understand why people go out of their way for it.”

“Pretty good, right?” Verona smirked, hauling herself on Anton. “Do you think that you'll be every night, or just some? Don't want you to get hurt or tired.”

Cetina patted the sheets again. “I think...I think maybe every other night. I'm not much use as a bodyguard if my legs always feel like jelly.”

“Why do you all have to be so noisy this early?” Kal grumbled, pushing herself up and her rear out as she began her morning stretching routine. Her long tail pulled out of the sheet before swaying and twirling above her. How she had such fine control over such a thin limb was still beyond him, not that it limited his enjoyment. Or its fluffiness. “Can't we just have one morning where we just sleep in?”

“Like a lazy cat in the morning sun.” Anton pulled Kal down for a kiss, Kal wrapped her tail around his hand. “Once we're done with the Dark Elves we're all going to take a few days off. Getting up late will be great. Especially when it's cold outside.”

Kal held his cheeks tight, gently rubbing his beard with her slightly rough pads. “That it will.”

“All the more reason to get more bodies to warm your bed.” Verona chuckled. “It's not going to be the only one, of course, but already it feels a bit warmer.”

“Speaking of.” Anton reached out and held Cetina's arm. “You're going to move all of your stuff into our house. If you're going to be with me then you're going to live under the same roof. And you'll have your own room as well, to do with what you want. We don’t exactly have much ourselves but you should have your own private room.”

“I actually don’t.” Verona murmured.

Cetina pulled herself up. “Thank you, Anton. So...” Cetina held the sheets to her chest, unwilling to let anyone see her chest now that they had returned to normal. “Do we get ready or...”

“We'd best get up.” Anton sighed, slapping Verona and Kal's thighs moderately hard. “We can have as much time as we want to ourselves over the next few days. We're just going to have to tough it out for now.”

Verona laughed. “I wonder who's actually-”

“You.” Anton and Kal answered simultaneously.

Verona huffed and pouted, folding her arms and turning away. Cetina could only crack a smile, knowing full well she was now a part of this strange growing family.

---[]---

A messenger, one without a crossbow and a murderous plan, arrived soon after they were dressed. The young man was a little surprised to find someone of Cetina's stature as Anton's bodyguard but delivered the message all the same, even if he caught as many glances as he could. Visions of the assassination attempt flashed through his mind as Duchess Belinda requested an audience before the official meeting. At least this time he was sure, hoped, it wasn't a trap. He also had Verona and Kal by his side this time.

Duchess Belinda waited inside a large secluded garden pavilion, drinking tea while enjoying the sounds of a peaceful and immaculately maintained garden. Apparently, it once belonged to a loyalist of Harold and The Church of the Holy Father. It took little imagination to guess their fate. Belinda continued to wear the same style of dress as when she arrived in Atros; simple yet exceedingly fine and expensive. Was this to become her new fashion?

“I know that you have to meet the new King Leo and Queen Lila after the official signing of the division…” Belinda sipped her purple tea, her finger tapped the white porcelain cup. “I don’t know how long that will last, but thank you for seeing me first.”

“It’s only fitting.” Anton smiled, taking a sip of the purple tea himself. “If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t know about any of this before it was far, far too late. Atros would probably be a burning husk, most of Qaiviel too, before winter set in.”

“That won’t be too long now,” Alfred said calmly. He stood to the side of Belinda, ready at a moment’s notice to refill her cup. “Snow should already be falling near the border with the Clansmen. I’m sure that your home will be snowing soon as well.”

“I’d prefer it if you kept that a secret.” Anton smiled. “Not that it takes a genius to make a rough guess where we came from.”

“We shall not speak a word of it.”

Kal, her face hidden by her mask, sighed deeply in relief. She, Verona and Cetina stood behind Anton. Though the table was more than large enough for everyone only one chair had been provided. The girls didn’t mind standing while he spoke on behalf of them and of Atros.

“So what happens to you now?” Anton asked. “Do you return to Maxill or are you staying here?”

Belinda smiled. “I will be staying in the capital. Thanks to my involvement, or should I say your involvement, the war was much easier than anyone expected. I am to receive half of the Church lands in the entire Kingdom-”

“Leo’s Kingdom.” Alfred quietly added.

Belinda nodded. “Leo's kingdom. I can understand why Lila wouldn’t give me any of her confiscated lands. I shall be receiving half of their land, which actually isn’t that much on the eastern side of the Qaiviel Kingdom, there is quite a bit near Clausonne, and a quarter of their wealth. Half of it shall go to the Knight Orders that aided Leo and the rest to rebuild the Kingdom.”

“How much are we talking?” Verona leant a hand on his shoulder.

“More than enough to rebuild.” Belinda chuckled. “Better than before, though the Churches themselves will be torn down. If their religion is to survive it’ll definitely have to change after this. Perhaps not lose itself in greed…Speaking of, it’s probably time that I was wed.”

Belinda’s eyes flicked to the three girls standing behind him. “If you didn’t have a small army clinging to you I’d ask for your hand. But…” Belinda chuckled. “I don’t like to share. I guess I’ll find some handsome lord. Doesn’t need to be smart but I don’t want our children to be ugly.”

“I think there are more requirements for a partner than that,” Anton said flatly.

“Looks seem to be the deciding factor for you.” Belinda smiled devilishly. “I would like to extend a formal invitation to the wedding, whenever that happens. I’m afraid that you won’t be able to bring some of the more…exotic, members of your community.”

“We will definitely attend. But someday the Beast-kin will be walking alongside the humans once again. And this time not in chains.”

“We can hope.” Alfred rubbed his knee. “I still remember their strength and ferocity.”

You certainly left your mark, Marion.

“The other rewards that you were promised will be rewarded by King Leo himself. I merely wanted to express my heartfelt gratitude in person. And extend my own invitation. Having you present at my wedding will only raise my considerable prestige, especially after this war.”

“This may sound odd but are you going to prepare for a second civil war?” Anton asked.

Belinda glumly nodded. “I feel that I have little choice. Lila is no fool, that much is certain. But I will be using my wealth to expand southward. The merchants there make considerable money by trading with the Wood Elves and the Orcs, though we can’t enter either of their territories.”

“Especially the Wood Elves,” Alfred added. “Any human that crosses the border is cut down with a hundred arrows. Unfortunately, they don’t care if it’s a child…One of the more disturbing things I’ve witnessed.”

“Orcs in the Red Spines?”

“Yes?” Belinda frowned lightly.

“We…We met some Orcs travelling from the north to the Red Spines. I’d like to know if they’d made it safely.”

“They were very badly wounded when we met them,” Kal said softly.

Alfred searched through his uniform for a piece of paper. “Now the war is over, for now at least, the White Dog mercenaries are without work. They will return to our employ as bandit suppression but they could easily escort you to the Red Spines if you wish. It would be the least we could do after helping us so much.”

“We still have business with The Shadow Isles.” Anton began. “And that still needs some work. Is it possible they could take a set of portal stones to the Red Spines and alert us when they’re there? Oh, and another set for you. Please make sure that you set this up somewhere safe. I’m sure the Principle Mages would love to poke around with this.”

Alfred nodded, taking a small bag of ten stones. “Thank you. Mercenaries are paid not to question orders. If their job is to escort a bag of stones and then arrange them in a circle at their destination they won’t care, so long as they are well paid.”

“Thank you. That will be a great help to us.”

“Seems like such a small thing compared to what you’ve done for us.” Belinda smiled. “As I said King Leo will award you your gold, a copy of every Principle Magic book we have and recognition of your territory.”

Belinda bowed her head low. “Thank you. All of you. For saving our Kingdom.”

“It was our pleasure,” Anton said. The girls responded with a shallow bow. “Well, not exactly. But we're glad to have helped.”

Anton began to rise, Cetina pulled the chair out for him. “Good luck, Duchess Belinda, Alfred.”

“I’ll order the White Dog to escort you to the castle.” Alfred waved to some mercenaries waiting out of earshot at the very edge of the garden. “We will be following shortly but I believe Leo wishes you to be present from the beginning. We have little...visual impact compared to you. However, though Harold has been defeated there may be supporters still lingering in the city. One stray arrow is enough to kill anyone. I'm sure that you are fully aware of how true that is.”

Anton gave a final bow to Belinda as they left the garden. The White Dog mercenaries formed a loose perimeter as they moved through the busy streets of Clausonne. The people were already working hard, their efforts directed at rebuilding the damage to their city. Anton spied many gangs of shirtless men, and women with shirts, chained together at the ankles tearing down damaged buildings and hauling away chunks of stones.

“If you side with a lunatic like that you get what’s coming to you,” Anton mumbled.

Verona bumped his side. “Speaking of, what happened to those Church soldiers we caught in the castle?”

“Probably dead,” Cetina said softly. “They didn’t ask Anton to use his magic to extract the truth so…”

“They made their choice,” Kal said firmly. “I don't feel bad for them.”

“Neither do I.” Anton kissed Kal's hand. “But something we need to remember when dealing with Leo or Lila.”

---[]---

Anton wished for a chair, at least for something to sit on while the formal proceedings continued to drag on. His tail itched, sometimes it did sporadically but today more so than usual. He wanted nothing more than to let it free and scratch between the sharp spines but that was a clear impossibility. Leo and Lila sat beside one another, where the throne was stood, chatting idly while their Knights argued, politely, about the exact boundaries of the new Kingdoms. Besides the Knights both sides brought only a few of the most important people, at least that’s what Anton suspected they were. Leo’s dressed more like nobles and influential people, Lila’s were commoners, more befitting her army formed of irregular forces. Overall the division of the Qaiviel Kingdom was proceeding quite smoothly, only that it was taking an age. Duchess Belinda arrived nearly an hour after them, she and Alfred stood near the entrance, and yet she had barely missed anything.

If only we could take our reward and leave. Hell, we don't even really need it. We have a decent treasury and Balefire. The Principle Magic books are a great boon but nothing compared to a neighbour that doesn't want you dead because of your very existence. That and a God wanting to kill us.

"How much longer?" Verona grumbled. "They already know what they're getting so why all this...this stuff?"

"See if they can squeeze out an extra village or two." Anton murmured. "Cetina? Any ideas?"

Cetina pursed her lips. "Possibly. There's no real haggling or bartering, so it's probably already been agreed to. But I think that Anton's right; they're just trying to get a little bit more out of it."

"Waste of time if you ask me." Verona huffed, leaning against Anton. "We could have been long gone by now. We have other places to be."

“Perhaps,” Alfred spoke softly from behind. When he and Duchess Belinda had moved through the crowds Anton didn’t know. Even Kal appeared slightly surprised. “But neither side can afford to appear soft or weak…It’ll be the end of them if they did.”

“Indeed…”

Anton took a deep breath and looked around the room once more. Something, something began to niggle at the back of his mind, something he couldn’t put his finger on. The feeling continued to grow as the light bickering continued.

“Does anyone else feel odd?” Anton whispered.

“Maybe.” Verona frowned lightly. “Something’s not right…”

“Where’s the church man?” Cetina nodded towards Lila.

Whereas Leo had Bernard and Marcus by his side, Castor argued with Lila’s Red Salamanders, Lila only had Fabrice by hers. The supposedly loyal and dutiful former Inquisitor was nowhere to be found.

“Interesting…But that’s not it.”

Before Anton could think any further on the strange feeling bubbling in his chest, Leo and Lila rose from their chairs and approached the table of bickering Knights. Each gave a shallow bow and backed away, unwilling to dare continue their discussion in the presence of their respective rulers, reforming ranks on their side of the room.

“I believe this looks more than fair enough.” Lila tapped the two maps. One of Qaiviel itself, another a detailed map of the cities and towns surrounding Clausonne. “More than fair. Wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

“Indeed.” Leo smiled. “It is more than fair.”

Leo’s smiled continued for longer than was natural.

“It…It is just a little strange, is all.” Leo shook his head, frowning lightly. “Just the other day we were fighting Harold and storming Clausonne.”

Lila smiled and began to sign the document. Leo watched her intently, never moving and barely speaking as her hand moved with a skill expected of royalty.

Lila finished signing the large document, smiling as she gently pushed it towards Leo and stepped back. Leo, however, didn’t step forward. His eyes remained transfixed on the paper, his hands flexing in nervousness.

“Leo?” Lila’s voice wavered.

Leo refused to look up.

“Something’s about to happen,” Anton spoke through the ring. “Don’t do anything but just be ready.”

Leo finally looked at Lila, but his eyes were faintly red, like he was on the verge of crying.

“There’s movement behind us!” Kal gripped Anton’s arm tight. “Behind the walls!”

Cetina’s attention remained forward, something that required considerable effort, while they glanced back. The wooden walls looked normal but Anton did not doubt Kal’s senses. His eyes focused on a slight horizontal line running along the entire section of the wood. Anton’s heart jumped when the line began to move, moving back to reveal a hidden recess. And no one was pushing on it from this side.

“Back up. All of you.” Anton lightly held Verona and Kal’s shirts. “To the stone columns. Right now.”

Lila didn’t notice, nor Cetina’s loud armoured body stepping back, instead continuing to stare at her brother.

“Leo?” Lila stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” Leo winced.

Colour and life drained from Lila’s face. “Le-”

Something flashed before Anton’s eyes, Kal’s body tensed for just an instant. Blood sprayed out of Lila’s neck, smothering the table and paper in a thin red liquid. Leo recoiled, scrunching his eyes and hands tight, even as Lila struggled to stem the bleeding. Such a thing was impossible, a crossbow bolt had penetrated her neck, a bolt tipped with Chelium.

“Lila!” Fabrice, in his resplendent red armour, raced to Lila’s side.

However, it was not to be.

Fabrice took but a single step before he began to stumble, another bolt jutting out of his leg. As he stumbled down a flash of steel caught Anton’s eye. Bernard had drawn his sword and advanced on the Red Salamander, his face cold yet somehow tinged with a hint of regret.

“Now!” Someone cried, Anton had no idea who.

Both walls collapsed forward, revealing a swath of crossbowmen, all aiming their weapons at Lila’s entourage.

“Wh-” Verona’s words were stopped by Anton’s hand, clamping her mouth tight as he dragged them all into a corner and away from the battle.

Anton kept his attention firmly placed on the wall, now bursting with Leo’s soldiers firing volleys at Lila’s people. None were focused on them. Anton tapped Verona’s shoulder, she created a shield from blood and held it in front, Cetina her shield high and ready to block but they remained completely untouched.

Lila’s infantry, former bandits and hunters repurposed into a guerrilla styled army, fell like wheat to a scythe. Only a handful remained standing after the initial volley, none after the second. The Red Salamanders were a different story. Their armour granted them some protection, but the bolts were fired from extremely close range and in great numbers; when a row of crossbowmen loosed their bolts they retreated behind another row which stepped forward, ready with a loaded bolt. The sheer volume of bolts proved too great, smashing through armoured sections and penetrating deep in the small vulnerable joints.

Leo stood still amongst the growing carnage, completely unmoving. Tears began to run down his face, mixing with the blood but never did he let out a single cry. A Blue Firestorm Knight ran towards him, Castor, and extracted him from the centre of the room, using his much larger body to shield him from a stray bolt, not that he was even once targeted by the volleys of bolts. Lila raised a bloodied hand towards Leo but it quickly dropped, both returning to her destroyed throat in an attempt to stem the flow, an impossible task as blood continued leaking through her fingers in ever-weakening bursts.

“Bastards!” Fabrice roared. Though on his back the red Knight was not ready to submit.

Bernard brought his great sword down with every ounce of strength his frame would allow. Fabrice kicked at the floor with his wounded leg, a bolt harmlessly struck his shoulder and another deep into his leg near the first. He grunted and kicked again but was unable to move far enough. Bernard’s sword struck his red armoured leg, denting the armour and snapping the bones beneath. Fabrice yelled again and thrust his sword at Bernard. Bernard was far faster than his size hinted at and dodged away, not that a thrust from a sword square into his plate armoured chest would actually do much.

“I thought you were better than Harold!” Fabrice yelled again, continuing to try and retreat to his Knights.

“I am,” Bernard growled. “But…I have my orders.”

“You’re no better than what he became.”

Fabrice looked back towards his Knights, perhaps wondering why they weren’t coming to his rescue. His face dropped, his sword clattering loosely by his side. Every Red Salamander was already dead, killed by a hailstorm of crossbow bolts or by Black Rider Knights moving through the weakened ranks, what little of their faces were exposed held a look of grim determination.

“You…” Fabrice stopped moving, staring up at Bernard as the giant readied his sword again.

“I take no pleasure in this, Fabrice.” Bernard’s shoulders dropped slightly. “But-”

“Go fuck yourself.” Fabrice spat at his boots. “You inbred cuckold little rat! You only exist to murder people, completely incapable of any other kind of joy. Curse you pathetic murderous lapdog-”

Bernard swung his sword down, cleaving Fabrice’s head in two. The Red Salamanders gurgled blood before slumping to his side, the great sword clanging loudly on the stone ground. Bernard sighed and retrieved the blade, wiping away the blood and brain matter staining the metal.

“Forgive me.” Bernard shook his head once and turned away.

“Anton!” Verona shouted through the ring. “What? What is happening?”

“Leo just gained an entire kingdom.” Anton thought dryly.

Verona kept her blood hardened as the clanging of metal and cries began to whimper and fade. Finally the last of Lila’s force fell, a great silence fell upon the throne room.

“Don’t say anything!” Anton said. “Not a word, don’t even move. We’re still alive…But that could change at any moment.”

All three nodded but he could still feel their incredible fear and dread. As crossbowmen worked their way through the dead and dying, delivering a swift execution to any still breathing, it would only take a single order for a volley to come their way. And Anton would have to destroy the entire room in order to have a chance at survival.

“She’s still alive.” A Crossbowman stopped before Lila, barely moving as the blood seeped weakly through her fingers. “What do you want me to do?”

Bernard and Castor, still shielding Leo from potential harm, stepped away. Leo kept his face cast down, the tears had long since faded but his eyes remained red, two deep red circles in an otherwise empty stark white face. When he looked up, finally deigning to look upon his murdered sister, Anton saw nothing.

Leo stepped across the silent throne room, his Knights and crossbowmen stepped away to not impede his movement, and stopped before his sister. Lila’s eyes snapped into focus, not a look of hatred or anger, but one of disappointment and pity. Her lips moved, stained with blood, but no words came out. Leo knelt by her and stared silently at her face. Lila struggled once more before life left her body; her fingers relaxed around her neck and her chest sank one last time.

“I’m sorry,” Leo whispered, barely audible over those breathing nearby. “But…There was no other choice.”

Verona made a sound, the start of a protest, but Anton clamped it shut. Cetina looked back in great concern, her lip quivering, while he couldn’t see Kal’s expression but he knew she was even more worried.

Leo didn’t raise his head. “But…But Qaiviel cannot have two rulers. Division…It is simply not possible to have a strong Kingdom. Not with the threats we must face.”

Leo suppressed a sniffle and gently picked up her hands, ignoring the blood, and folded them over her chest. He closed her eyes and stood upright. For some time he said nothing, staring at his dead sister, before grunting something as he looked up to Bernard.

“It is tragic, but my sister has been slain by Harold’s supporters.” Leo pointed to the Chelium tipped bolt jutting from Lila’s neck. “The same weapon that was to try and assassinate our men is here.”

“Indeed.” Bernard nodded once.

Utter…

Leo’s lips quivered for just a moment. “Tell her forces that she and Fabrice fell against the assailants.”

“With Fabrice dead,” Alfred stepped forward. He and Belinda had been incredibly quiet for the entire proceedings, both good and bad, remaining in a corner of the room, away from scrutiny and potential attacks. “The Knight Orders that Lila managed to muster will simply not believe this.”

Alfred pointed to Fabrice, specifically his cleaved skull. “I doubt they’re going to believe that was made by a simple Church assassin.”

Well, you were Leo’s advisor. I wonder if this is your plan? Did Belinda have a part in this?… We need to get out of here.

“There’s only one person they’d think could do such a thing.” Marcus sighed lightly. “And that puts us right back where we started.”

Fuck the money and the books. We need to leave without drawing too much attention to ourselves…Can we even do that? Leo knows, at least roughly, where Atros lies. Now with an entire Kingdom behind him it wouldn’t be too hard to muster a force to destroy Atros, if he thinks we’re a threat to his rule. And I don’t think the nobles will look too kindly upon Qaiviel being ruled by a family of murderers…Even if there is only one left.

“Perhaps.” Leo stepped away, stopping and sparing a final glance to his dead sister. “But…But we have a way to fix that.”

Leo’s eyes fell upon Anton. Just as before they were still faintly red but nothing lay beneath.

Anton flexed his hands, thankfully hidden by Cetina’s armoured body.

Nothing else for it.

“I could restore the wounds, not the armour, but his head could be fixed.”

Leo nodded. “Restore his head. I care not for his armour.”

Verona and Cetina shot him worried looks, Kal was ready to grab them all and run, but Anton, deep down, knew he had to do this.

I don’t have much of a choice. I refuse and I’ll just gain his ire. And after killing his sister I doubt four mercenaries will weigh heavily on his mind after today.

As Anton stepped forward he glanced back to Belinda, still hiding in the corner of the throne room. She wasn’t worried, or even surprised by the events, but she wasn’t the one about to walk into the centre of a room of loaded crossbows.

The walk to Fabrice’s body, while only a few dozen meters, was one of the longest he had ever taken. He knew that every step might be his last, that a slight groan of wood or metal was the last thing he might hear before a bolt struck his head. And he couldn’t use magic if he was dead.

Much to his overwhelming relief nothing happened as he reached Fabrice’s body. Blood and shredded brain matter continued to leak from his cleaved and battered skull but Anton forced himself to ignore it. He laid his hand upon Fabrice’s shoulder and quietly chanted a healing prayer. The wound began to close, much to the surprise of nearly everyone present, until it was impossible to know that Fabrice had just been brutally murdered.

“Is he alive?” Bernard took a step forward, Anton kept the man’s boots, and the associated reach of his blade, in his sights.

“No.” Anton stood up. “I cannot bring someone back.”

“Thank you.” Leo glumly nodded.

Anton glanced at Lila.

“That won’t be necessary.” Leo raised his hand. “She…She needs to remain like that.”

Makes the story a lot more believable.

Anton nodded once and returned to his previous position. He saw the relief wash over their faces.

“This division.” Leo held the bloodied paper aloft. “No longer applies, since only one remains.”

A smile dared to creep up his face, followed closely by an overwhelming wave of guilt. Leo focused himself and tore the paper into pieces.

“There is much to do, now.” Leo looked to the window, overlooking Clausonne. “Now more than ever, with so many threats baring down on Qaiviel. But first I must reward those that have served me so well.”

Anton tensed at his phrasing, however it appeared to be unwarranted. At least in this situation.

Slowly the few nobles and commanders Leo had brought with him, to bear witness to such a momentous occasion, at least before the bloodshed, were awarded small chests of gold and pieces of paper, writs, designating new lands and sources of wealth. As they accepted the rewards, passed over by Marcus, they each received a short whisper. Everyone’s face hardened, some lost colour, but everyone returned a stern nod. Anton could only guess what threats were levied against them or their families should they ever speak a word of what happened. Such thoughts only worsened Anton’s own troubled heart; those receiving their rewards were subjects of Qaiviel and still had to live in the kingdom regardless of what happened. Anton had no such compulsions or loyalties. It was unlikely that he would be believed but why should Leo take that risk? Apart from being burned alive alongside his entire court, something he knew that Anton was more than capable of.

Belinda received a particularly large number of writs. She held no emotion as she politely received a massive amount of land and wealth.

You got what you wanted…Did you actually change? I think you did, but if Alfred put this to you, or Leo ordered such an action, I know it would be in your best interests, beyond just staying alive, to go along with it.

Belinda spared them a quick glance as she returned to her position, not speaking a word or making a sound. Finally, Anton was called forth.

“You have done so much for Qaiviel,” Leo spoke with a forced emotion, forcefully keeping his eyes away from his dead sister. “So much. If it weren’t you for, and your friends, Qaiviel could have fallen to Harold and his ilk.”

Anton bowed his head. He kept his mouth shut, lest any smart remark end his life prematurely.

“And without you, I wouldn’t be King.” Leo glanced to the Chelium tipped bolt.

Again Anton kept his mouth shut.

“Your reward, mercenary, has to be…reduced. Slightly.”

Anton’s muscles tensed. He prepared dozens of lightning and firebombs, not bringing them into reality but keep them just below the surface.

“Your majesty. May I ask how?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Though we can pay you in gold, for you monumental services to me, and to Qaiviel, access to the Royal Academy is not possible at this time.”

“Was it destroyed in the siege?”

Anton presumed Leo would be suspicious if he just let half of the reward simply go without at least questioning it.

Leo glumly nodded. “The Royal Academy has been gutted by the war. Many are dead, pressed into Harold’s service and neutralised before the siege, will many more are missing. And yes…The buildings were raided. We still don’t know where they have taken it, especially considering our libraries are somewhat inferior to the Holy Kingsland or even Mycea.”

We’ll just go to Graterious. At least we can just buy them there. If that doesn’t work we can just go to Bebbezzar.

“I understand that it will take some time to rebuild.” Anton began, keeping his voice soft and level. “We…Is it possible to gain access to the Academy at a later date? At a time when Qaiviel has fully recovered from this savage war?"

Leo nodded. “That is agreeable. Now, your reward.”

Two small chests were placed before Anton, each required a burly Knight on each end.

“These are filled with gold and jewels, confiscated from The Church’s cronies. I hope they will be adequate compensation for your efforts. We never did agree on a fixed amount, but I believe this is more than generous.”

Leo motioned for a Knight to open the chest. It was indeed bursting with gold and jewels, almost as much as they had in Atros. And that wouldn’t last forever.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Anton noted that, in order to carry the chests, they would each need to carry one side, leaving them vulnerable to potential attacks.

“Verona?” Anton kept his sight towards Leo. “Could you please carry the chests? It would be too difficult for us alone.”

Verona slowly nodded. Blood seeped from her clothes, fully controlled and not staining her skin or clothes, eliciting several gasps from the audience. The blood shards floated and lifted the chests into the air, the faintest hint of strain on her face but she kept it well hidden. Leo and the Knights watched the shards intently, some Knights gripped their pommels tight, but none moved. Leo remained perfectly still, almost uncaring they were using magic before him. He knew Anton could use magic near instantaneously, and he hadn’t used it to intervene to help Lila, Anton hoped that he would be a little trusting, at the very least. Verona pulled the chests back and waited for Anton’s next action.

“Thank you again, your majesty.” Anton bowed lightly. “Should you need our aid do not hesitate to contact us again. I recall hearing brewing troubles with the Centaurs.”

“Indeed. Those creatures do not care who sits on the throne of Qaiviel. We may need your help again sooner rather than later.”

A silence filled the air, one Anton hated.

“If everything has been concluded, King Leo, we must depart Qaiviel.” Anton’s body tensed. “We cannot help with the reconstruction, after all.”

Leo nodded. “I…I would like to retain your services. So that you don’t aid my enemies and you remain quiet about…”

I shouldn’t ask for much, make it seem like I’m more interested in money, that I can be swayed by lumps of gold, rather than upholding some sense of justice.

“Of course. After this reward, a modest retainer will be more than sufficient.” Anton smiled. “I would ask that you send the retainer to Duchess Belinda, as she knows how to contact us, should you require us in a hurry.”

Belinda and Alfred remained silent and still. This wasn’t news to Leo, thankfully.

Leo barred his teeth for a second, the brief flicker of emotion subsided, replaced by his cold indifference. “Good luck with your journey, Anton.”

“Thank you, King Leo.” Anton motioned for the girls to approach. “May your reign be long and prosperous.”

Anton turned to leave, his heart still racing as his eyes fell upon the crossbowmen, still watching him, waiting for an order to strike him down. They didn’t appear worried about potentially attacking a mage that could kill Harold’s mutated form and a small army besides.

“Just walk calmly,” Anton spoke very softly. “Don’t go fast or slow. We just need to leave without attracting more attention.”

As they passed the door Anton paid Leo one last final look at Leo. He wasn’t looking at them, rather the cold corpse of his sister. During the entire proceedings she had simply laid there, the blood seeping into the small cracks in the stone. Anton felt bad for Lila but he could do little to help her, now most of all. Now he was simply relieved to be leaving.

---[]---

Anton quickly moved through the castle, always looking over his shoulder should they be followed by an uninvited guest. None had spoken a word since leaving the throne room, though all kept an extremely keen watch on their surroundings. As they returned to the light and fresh air, reaching the small camp nestled inside the castle walls, his heart did not steady. A fluttering of red coloured knights, Lila’s Red Salamanders, only brought him concern and confliction in equal measure. While they were not outwardly hostile he could tell they were greatly disturbed. Most of their attention was focused on a small group of Black Riders and Blue Firestorm Knights near the edge of their camp, their helmets nestled underneath their arms and the heads cast low. Anton didn’t recognise them, they weren’t in the throne room but it wouldn’t be too difficult to guess what had transpired.

“How did Fabrice die?” One Red Salamander yelled, his fury barely constrained.

“Is everyone dead?” Another asked.

Anton got the girls attention, motioning them to keep their eyes away and keep as inconspicuous as possible. Easier said than done when one was glowing bright red and carrying two small chests with floating solidified blood.

“How could they kill everyone…” Something rippled through the Red Salamanders, and the irregular soldiers travelling with their army. “How many people did you lose?”

“Many.” A Black Rider Knight spoke gruffly. “Many, but we caught all of the assassins.”

“So where’s Lila?” A hunter asked, forcing his way through the Red Salamanders. “She promised us that we’d… You!”

The hunter pointed to Anton, seemingly uncaring about Verona’s glowing body.

“You!” The hunter pushed forward, a small group of hunters close behind while the Knights remained stationary. “You were there. What happened?”

Verona clicked her tongue. “If only we’d managed to get away. My powers really do stand out, doesn’t it?”

Anton waited until the group of hunters had reached them. The Black Riders and Blue Firestorm looked on worried.

“I’m sorry.” Anton bowed his head. “But we were not present during the attack. We only arrived after. I’m sorry.”

The hunters quickly grew despondent, each grieving in their own way. Anton had no idea how Lila had managed to gather these people, many looked like they would be bandits or hunting rabbits or deers, but whatever she did it left a great mark on them.

Losing an influential leader…Lila’s army will probably fall apart in just a few days. I wonder what she promised, just beyond money. A new way of life. Hope? Maybe it was just something as simple as money.

“Forgive me, but we must be going.”

Anton bowed his head again, so too did Cetina, as they pushed their way past before they could ask anything more. The hunters began to disperse and returned to their camp, casting troubled glances at them. Anton was glad they didn’t ask about Verona’s blood power. They must have thought she was just a Principle Mage, a rare and strange one at that, rather than a heretical Glyph Mage.

More Knights and infantry stared as they passed. None were willing to approach or ask further questions, not that Anton was going to answer.

Cetina glanced over her shoulder once they passed through the ruined gate. “Where do we put up the…thing? To go back home?”

“I don’t know.” Anton ground his teeth. “I honestly don’t know.”

Anton looked up the castle walls. Leo’s soldiers idly patrolled the top, each held a loaded crossbow but they only regarded them with mild interest.

“I bet they were a back-up.”

“What?” Verona frowned, slightly strange as her eyes glowed bright red.

“If the…” Anton checked no one was within earshot. “Second attempt had failed Lila’s forces would be instantly hostile."

“Oh…” Verona shook her head. “That’s really sad.”

Kal gripped her hands tight. “All the more reason we should get out of here. The less we have to do with Qaiviel, now, the better. I…”

Kal sighed despondently. “I don’t think we can count on Leo as an ally. For now at least.”

“At least he doesn’t hate Beast-kin,” Anton whispered. “That’s going to be enough for me. But…But I think you’re right. We’ll need to keep a watchful eye on the border, especially to the south. If we find they’ve built cities in our lands then there will be serious trouble.”

“How do we get the portal stones away?” Cetina asked. “We can’t put them through since…What do we do? Are we stuck here with one of the sets? We’ll have to bring it back to…Home. Duchess Belinda has another set but…”

Verona scoffed. “I’m sure some of those Principle Mages Leo has will be able to find them. Then it’s just a quick jump to home.”

“There is someone that we might be able to trust with it.”

“Terrill?” Verona barely held back a smile. “Where did he get to anyway?”

Kal shrugged. “Maybe he knew something like this was coming.”

Cetina nodded. “You should have seen how Leo changed after Anton mentioned his sister. Cold, like ice. He wasn’t so concerned about asking if Verona was single-”

“Really?” Verona smirked at Anton. “You didn’t tell us about that.”

“We met him right after he’d finished bedding some random Black Rider Squire.” Anton almost smiled, quickly remembering the situation they were in. “But we need to focus on-”

“Wait!” A familiar voice called out from behind. “Please wait!”

Verona’s body flashed as some of her blood reformed itself into a shield. Alfred and Belinda approached, quite quickly given their age and attire respectively, with a small cadre of White Dog mercenaries close behind.

“I think our business in Qaiviel is done,” Verona said loudly. “Surely? After everything we’ve been through, I don’t think we want to come back here anytime soon.”

“I…I can appreciate that sentiment.” Alfred’s breath was short and ragged, he must have run the entire way. They hadn’t exactly been moving slowly.

“How much of it did you plan?” Anton asked. “Neither you, nor Belinda, seemed particularly worried.”

“Perhaps we should move somewhere a little more discreet.” Alfred looked around. “There are still many eyes and ears on us all. Especially with Verona’s obvious type of magic.”

“I doubt they’d understand where it comes from,” Verona spoke without emotion. “But I still have a lot more blood, if you understand what I’m saying.”

Anton knew that it was mostly a bluff. She only had one large vial's worth of fresh blood, and it was currently being used to hold two small chests aloft.

“I do.” Alfred nodded. “But, can we go somewhere else?”

Anton waited until Belinda reached Alfred’s side.

“Did you know?” Anton asked.

“I did.” Belinda kept her face flat. “I was aware. But…Even I thought it wouldn’t be so…Bloody.”

“I’m sure it always does.” Anton held his chin. “I would have liked to have been made aware, so we wouldn’t have panicked and possibly lashed out, thinking that we might be the next target.”

“I thought Anton would be killed when Leo called him forward,” Kal grumbled.

Anton nodded. “I did too. But…I have a way to see if you, both of you, can actually be trusted.”

---[]---

Anton removed his hand from Alfred’s shoulder. “So it seems both of you can be trusted. Even after all that happened.”

Alfred looked at his shoulder, rubbing the spot where Anton had just held. “Such a strange ability.”

“He could make you spill your darkest secrets,” Verona said softly. “If he really wanted to.”

Cetina shifted awkwardly, tapping a boot on the wooden floor.

Currently they stood inside of the Inn, with the White Dog Mercenaries forming a perimeter. Anton had worried constantly that it was some sort of plot or trap, but he knew Belinda knew that he wasn’t that easy to kill. Someone had tried and come quite close, but that was without Verona present. Of course, they could try the same trick, using a Ghlyirl helmet to disrupt magic, but Verona’s magic could move as fast as her thoughts, just a single needle of hardened blood would be more than enough to kill a man. And then it would simply be a bloodbath.

“It wasn’t my idea.” Belinda held her hands clasped in front. “But I understand its necessity.”

Anton sighed. “It doesn’t matter now. Don’t get me wrong, I understand Leo’s reasoning. Doesn’t mean that I agree with it.”

Lila could have kept Leo’s attention away from us. No chance of that now.

“I’m sorry that we had to use the Chelium bolt that was used in your assassination attempt,” Alfred spoke softly and calmly. “Without it, we would immediately be accused of murdering Lila and her entourage.”

“I think they’ll do that anyway,” Anton grumbled, the girls agreed with him.

“Perhaps. But Fabrice’s body, without a broken skull, will do something to assuage some concerns.”

“Some?” Verona raised a brow. She kept her blood power active, the blood swirling around her ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“Some.” Alfred nodded. “Some. But…”

“What is your plan now?” Anton folded his arms. “Do you plan to stay in the capital or return to Maxill?”

“I shall be returning to Maxill.” Belinda relaxed slightly. “The eastern regions of Qaiviel have always been underdeveloped. Massive spending, from The Church’s captured wealth, will only aide us both.”

“True…” Anton sighed once again. “Just a shame how it all happened.”

“And you?” Belinda stepped forward. “Do you still intend to travel to the Red Spines.”

“I do…But there are other concerns right now.” Anton nodded to the north, at least where he felt the north should lie. “Beyond the sea.”

“Yes…I was wondering about that.”

Anton felt his face hardening. “If you want access to the Dark Elves and their wares I’ll have you carry our set of portal stones to the Red Spines.”

“That was the original plan,” Belinda spoke calmly.

Verona scoffed. “But that was before that.”

“I understand.” Belinda smiled. “Goods from The Shadow Isles will sell extremely well, especially amongst the nobility.”

“Very well. I’ll have someone stay with them, just in case.” Anton glanced at his hand. “Not that you’ll try something. I already know that. When they arrive at the Red Spines message us, then we’ll come through.”

The set in Atros will be broken so no one can come through. Can’t take any unnecessary chances now.

“Dwarves?” Verona asked.

“Are they accepted in the lands of Qaiviel?” Anton chuckled once. “Of course they are, they came through here to get to our home anyway.”

“They will not be a problem,” Belinda spoke calmly.

“I know they won’t. Because I really don’t want to find a Qaiviel army pouring into the heart of my city. That would make me very angry. Atros may fall but I’ll make sure that Qaiviel is only cinders and ash when I’m done.”

Belinda nodded once. She had undoubtedly heard of what Anton did to the assassins.

“And what do we do with these?” Verona kicked the small chests. “Are we actually going to take their gold?”

“Are you worried it’s tainted?” Kal tilted her masked face. “It is just a metal, after all.”

Anton shook his head. “Not in that way. In a literal sense. Perhaps some sort of explosion or another kind of nasty trap for whoever opens this. Or something at the bottom might burst into flames when someone touches it. I think it’s best we just dump it into the sea.”

Anton received several concerned looks. “It’s not like we’re short on money.”

Verona sighed. “Shame. But I don’t want to die either.”

“Cetina. Could you lay out the portal please?”

Cetina hastily laid out the stones, the shimmering white portal illuminated the entire warehouse.

“I hope you do well out of this,” Anton said softly. “I know that I will. But…Not the way I first thought when I agreed to help you.”

“Neither did I.” Belinda smiled. “But I know things will work out in the end. We will meet again soon, Anton. Threats continue to beset our lands; the Centaurs press on from the west, the Clansmen continue to loom over us from the mountains and Bebbezzar’s civil war has begun to spill over to our lands, opportunistic lords trying to gather supplies for their petty squabbles and wars. And we will need your help to see them defeated.”

My magic, let’s be honest. But then again-

Anton cut off his meandering thoughts. “I was supposed to be discussing some of that with Lila. Especially the Centaurs. Obviously not anymore. Perhaps I will be seeing Leo before too long. But I will still help Qaiviel in whatever way I can.”

Belinda gave another nod as Anton waited for the girls to step through first, then himself. As his mind swirled, disorientated by the transportation, he didn’t understand how he actually felt about Leo’s ascension. He knew he was glad to be done with Qaiviel, for now at least, but also the knowledge of his part in the murder of Lila, however impartial, sat at the back of his mind.

And not every one of Lila’s confidants was dead…

Chapter 154 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Ripples of Qaiviel

Chapter 154 Pt.1:

Terrill could barely stand, alcohol had already robbed him of such delicate movements. Instead, he sat in a soft, plush chair, a half-empty glass of brandy within easy reach. No words passed his lips, only the brown liquid in an attempt to calm his heart.

It failed utterly.

“Stupid girl.” Terrill downed the entire glass in one go, uncaring that he aged body spasmed in rebellion. “I told you it was going to be a trap. But you didn’t listen…And now look what happened.

Terill shook his head, just for a moment regretting he had thrown away the last of the alcohol.

“If you’d just listened…Had the meeting somewhere public, where everyone could see you, he’d never had tried something like that.”

Terill shook his head, sinking further into the soft chair. The last conversation he’d had with Lila came flooding back. An argument. Quite a bad one at that. Terill insisted that Leo couldn’t be trusted, while Fabrice assured her that he would, with people as reputable as Bernard and Marcus advising him. Lila was swayed by his arguments and agreed to go to the throne room, with a modest escort. Terill, exasperated, told her that she would be killed. Lila had only smiled and told him that her brother wouldn’t do that, that despite everything they were family and that he’d follow his words. Terill, in a misguided fit of anger, left in a huff. Of all the terrible choices he’d made in his life this was the one he regretted the most, a feeling that threatened to drag his heart to a complete stop.

“You should have listened to me…”

Terrill’s empty voice echoed in the small room. An old Church hideout, respite for Inquisitors hunting heretics and apostates. But mainly just a place to relax and unwind in peace and perfect privacy.

“I could hide here for the rest of my life.” Terrill slurred aloud. “I’m the only one that knows of this place. Well, that’s alive at any rate.”

The hideout was very simple. A small underground room underneath an unwitting civilian’s home, cluttered with preserved food, small caches of gold and even some books. Some of which were far worse than being simply heretical.

Terill had yet to see Lila’s body but he knew that she was murdered. In public too. The story was more than hollow; a last-ditch effort from Harold’s supporters to avenge their fallen king. But few had much recourse. Leo held a much larger force, more mages, and the strange mercenaries that Lila had taken a passing interest in. What she wanted to discuss with the mercenaries he would never know. They were firmly in Leo’s pocket, even if they weren’t paid they would be on his side. What option did they have?

Terill stumbled to his feet and searched for another bottle, anything to numb the pain that coursed through his heart. He tossed books and food to the side, uncaring the glass vials of preserved food broke, both food and glass staining the floor and the precious books. But Terill didn’t care.

Slowly the anger began to build, quickly consumed by an overwhelming sense of loss and hopelessness.

“Why couldn’t you have me by your side?” Terrill slumped back into the chair. “At least then I’d be dead…And not here. Just…”

He couldn’t find the words and stared at the single candle that illuminated the small room. Though small it was more than enough, luckily it wasn’t tossed into the piles of books, and their flammable paper pages.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Terill began to laugh. “An old, decrepit eunuch of a man, hunted by an entire Kingdom. At least I had some purpose before.”

Terrill kicked another pile of books. “Curse that idiotic boy! Leo should have never been allowed to take the throne. There must have…What’s the point? You’re dead. And soon…I’ll be dead too.”

Another pile of books fell, scattering over the ground. He grunted and shook his head.

“I…What’s this?”

Terrill’s eyes fell upon a small black leather bound book, one that Terill didn’t recognise. There were many that he had yet to read but he didn’t remember seeing this particular book, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. A small marking on the front, the only distinguishing feature amongst the black leather, drew his attention.

A small stylised eye, with a set of teeth below. But the teeth were not humans. Nor Beast-kin. The lateral incisors were long, very long and tinged with a faint red dye.

Terill knew this symbol. It had been a part of his training as an Inquisitor.

Necromancy was a particularly vile school of magic, normally only the most wicked people would ever dare try and pry its secrets. Normally these were young mages, or hermits and miscreants that stumbled upon the most basic of the necromantic arts. But this was different.

“No…No they wouldn’t be able to help me.”

Terill picked up the book. The cover was still soft, despite the age and misuse, the paper crisp even though the other books were warped from the damp.

“Those creatures…Those foul creatures of the darkness.” Terill looked up. “Who am I kidding?”

Despite his words, Terill couldn’t put the book down. Thoughts continued to swarm and fester in his mind.

The book belonged to one of the few groups that Inquisitors genuinely feared. Terill had defeated hermit necromancers and the few errant mage students but these were different. Entirely different.

“I’ll never forget fighting a Vampire Archon.”

Even with alcohol coursing through his blood Terill shuddered at the memory of the creature. A single Vampire Archon, spawn of a dread being known only as Gorash, had been discovered in the north of Qaiviel, plotting something from a small remote village. Terill had marched upon the solitary man, rather unremarkable apart from his distaste for sunlight, and lost hundreds of soldiers. Memories flashed before his eyes, of a man tearing through elite soldiers and mages, moving with such speed and grace it was almost hypnotic. And every soldier that fell returned, not as a shambling monstrosity like the rudimentary necromancers, but as full sentient beings, bound to the man’s will and somehow enhanced by his magic. Terill didn’t know how the Vampire Archon fell, only that he did. He was not ashamed to say that he ran the moment he realised how dangerous they were.

“But they can do more than just fight…” Terill shook his head. “Could…No. They couldn’t…Could they?”

Terill cast his eyes around the small room, the last refuge he had. Could things honestly become any worse?

A sly smile crept over Terrill’s face. “They can hardly torture me. My heart would probably fail before I gave anything up. Not that I have anything left. So…Why not?”

A new thought stuck itself in his mind. Necromancers, even the most powerful, needed a body to work their magic, or at least some sort of flesh. The thought of somehow taking Lila’s corpse across the seas made him shudder. Not to mention that it would be impossible to recover her body before Leo either burned or buried it.

Terill rubbed a small lump in his pocket. A simple necklace given to him by Lila. He didn’t know where she found it, she had given away most of hers to ensure they had enough food and water during their flight from Clausonne, but she wanted him to keep it. She had given it to him a few nights before arriving at Clausonne. A night that he’d never forget. A night where he actually laughed, laughing and drinking with a potential future Queen, chatting about nothing and yet feeling the night fly by. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. And it was now gone forever. Unless…

“This…This might be enough.” Terill sighed. “It belonged to her. Maybe some part of her spirit will remain lingering and attach itself to it.”

Terill slowly nodded. “I have enough money for the voyage, though it’ll be only one way. If they can’t bring her back then…”

I’ll just have them kill me. At least I tell her that I fell to the Vampire Archons.

Terill tried to take a step forward, both legs were like jelly.

“Alcohol is such a vile thing.” Terill slumped back into the chair. “Tomorrow then. Leo’s forces will have calmed a little by then too. They’ll probably think I’ve already left…”

Sleep rapidly began to overtake him, with the last of his strength he blew out the candle and completely surrounded himself in darkness. It was strangely peaceful, calming, almost.

“Maybe…Maybe I’ll do something worthwhile. Put someone worthwhile on the throne…Then I could die happily. Maybe I’ll just die? Who’s to say?”

Chapter 154 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Ripples of Qaiviel

Chapter 154 Pt.2:

Timothy watched the dying afternoon light raining over Clausonne. Though he was easily within walking distance of the capital he had always lived in his little fishing village near the coast. The closest he would ever get to the city was the small stream that ran down from the cities western wall towards the ocean, more importantly the pieces that came with it. Usually, it was foul waste, maybe a piece of wood or some rotten fruit, but today something else had trailed down.

“I wonder if it has anything to do with the smoke?” Timothy wondered aloud.

Clausonne had burned for some time, the great plumes of smoke appeared almost to devour the city. His mother had told him to return to the house but the sounds of lightning confused him. The day was clear and yet…

And that scream…

Timothy picked up a long stick and poked the large bundle of black and purple flesh before him. It looked like a strange mushroom, but fleshy. And alive. Underneath small limbs reached out, like crab limbs, that tried to pull itself up higher onto the shallow bank. It barely had the strength to move an arm let alone its body.

“Timothy!” A young girl called out. “Where are you?”

Timothy’s sister ran up behind him. When she saw the lump pulling itself out of the water she recoiled and hid behind him.

“What is that?”

Timothy shrugged. “I have no idea. Some sort of crab? Bigger than any I’ve seen before.”

“Are you were just going to poke it with a stick?”

“I was going to try and find dad but…”

They both looked towards Clausonne. Their father had been conscripted, that’s what their mother called it, into King Harold’s army. Timothy was sure that Harold wasn’t the king but a hundred soldiers came and took every man over his thirteenth winter in his name. Timothy missed being taken away, just, but it only left women behind to take care of the harvests and fishing. Many were struggling with only one set of hands but they were doing fine.

“Mother said that he’d be back soon.” His sister held his shoulders tight. “I’m sure he will.”

Timothy nodded. He hoped to see his father soon.

“Should we get someone to have a look at this. I-“

Timothy’s sister's foot slipped on the wet embankment. Her hand gripped hard onto his shoulder but it wasn’t enough to stop her fall. She slid on the wet mud and grass, only stopping when her foot landed on the strange creature.

“Are you alright?” Timothy asked.

His sister nodded and tried to climb up but her foot slipped underneath the creature. She screamed, her face twisted in pain, as the mushroom crab lurched up and threw its body over his sister. For a moment Timothy saw a mouth, a mouth filled with dozens of rotten teeth, barely the size of a baby.

“Help me!” She screamed, but Timothy couldn’t move. His legs had completely frozen in place.

The creature smothered his sister, her screams became muffled cries then after a terrible snap they stopped altogether. Streams of blood trailed behind the creature and ran into the stream. Timothy finally found the strength to scramble to his feet. The lump growled and launched itself towards Timothy. It missed and splatted onto the wet muddy ground. Behind Timothy saw the ravaged body in the grass, only red bones remained. Timothy ran as fast as he could, screaming at the top of his lungs. Several people emerged from their homes but Timothy didn’t stop, fear compelled him onward. He was so frightened he didn’t look forward, his eyes transfixed on the purple mass scuttling up the muddy embankment. His legs hit something, the sky became the ground as he fell into a crate and tumbled inside.

---[]---

Timothy’s head pounded when he finally awoke. Memories came flooding back. He looked up and only found the night sky, thousands of stars twinkling in the black night. He twisted pulled himself up and peered out. His village was covered in blood. Streaks and smears of blood covered the grasses and walls. Yet there were no bodies. As his eyes adjusted to the light he realised there was something else amongst the blood.

Trees.

Trees that never existed before. They weren’t anything like the apple or peach trees he knew, rather a twisting bundle of vines roughly in the shape of a person. Timothy saw there were dozens upon dozens in the streets.

Something moved along the street. Timothy crouched low and peered over the edge. The mushroom crab scuttled along the street, dodging the vine plants towards the river. Its spindly limbs were now thick and strong, it was able to move faster than a dog.

As it reached the edge of the embankment, near where his sister’s body lay, something flashed past his eyes. An arrow slammed into its body. The creatures screamed and rolled onto its back, snapping the arrow free. Timothy gasped as he saw what lay underneath. It looked like a child had been ripped and stretched, its arms and legs broken and reformed into its new legs. They scratched and swatted at the air helplessly as its bloodstained mouth screeched into the sky. Though Timothy wanted to vomit, only sheer terror stopped him, he saw that something was wrong. From underneath its back, its purple flesh began to transform into the same vines as the plants.

Who did that?

Someone walked along the street in pursuit of the creature. It wore a shroud but Timothy could tell that it was a woman. She held a bow, one made from the same vine and aimed at the creature. An arrow emerged out of a green light in her hand. She fired another arrow into the creature. This too sunk deep and began to transform its flesh.

It screamed even louder as the vines overtook its chest.

Why is no one else hearing this?...Unless…They’re the plants in the street?! Holy Father help us! Help me!

The woman sighed and loosed an arrow into its chest. The creature spasmed one last time as the vines completely consumed its body.

“Four hundred and eighty-seven humans.” The woman removed the shroud from her face and head, a short bob of blond hair shone against the dim night light. “They used to live and play in this squalid little hamlet. And now they’re dead. All because of you.”

The woman shook her head, something poked through her hair. Ears, long ears, easily three or even four times longer than his own, shut out. She brushed away the few strands of thin blonde hair as she pulled something out of her pocket. She held a bundle of orange stones in her hand and threw one at the creature. The vines burst into white-hot flames and quickly burned to cinders.

“All this effort to clean up after her stupid mistakes.” The woman pulled out a small piece of rolled paper, placed it into her mouth and pressed another small orange stone to the tip. It burst into flames but she doused it with her fingers. She inhaled deeply and blew out a gentle stream of smoke. “I’m here, stuck in these stupid human lands…Have I done enough now, Nithroel? Can I finally come home? I’ve been doing everything you’ve asked here for the past two thousand cycles?”

The woman scrunched her hands tight. “I’ve killed thousands upon thousands of humans. Everyone you’ve ever asked. So…SO WHY CAN’T I COME HOME? WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!”

Timothy recoiled at the volume of her voice. His hand tapped the edge of the crate, knocking something over behind him.

The woman drew her bow and shot a green arrow at Timothy’s head. His last thoughts, before pain overwhelmed him, was that the woman’s beauty was otherworldly, like that of an angel. He had been told about such beautiful creatures before in hushed whispers at the back of Church. How many people could claim they’d seen an angel in the flesh?

Chapter 155 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - The Home Front

Chapter 155:

Marion found it difficult to wake this day; her eyelids were heavy, her mind fuzzy. After spending nearly every day of her life waking up before dawn, beatings or worse awaited those that only began rising at dawn, having the opportunity to wait until the sun rose before beginning to move was something that she was still getting used to. Not that it was entirely new, she had spent a fair time in Atros now, but to have a bed, an actual decent bed that wasn’t a damp rag on a hard floor, was an indulgence she couldn’t ever dream of.

Especially sharing a bed with her lover.

Kristof snored lightly next to her, his large arms wrapped around her waist while her head rested on his arm. The Dwarf Minotaur slept hard most nights, especially after they had the chance to become intimate without everyone in the cell knowing, or trying to interfere. That alone made Atros a remarkable place.

“Kristof,” Marion whispered. She scrunched her clawed feet tight and gently scratched his leg above his hoof. “Are you awake?”

Kristof lay perfectly still, the only sign of life was the slight rise and fall of his chest. Marion sneered before lightly ran her claws over his chest. He had more than enough scratches on his back, not that he ever seemed to notice until morning. Minotaurs had a tendency to lose themselves in highly emotive situations…

“Rasha’s got that blood in her.” Marion pinched Kristof’s nipples. “But then again, all you Minotaurs are like that.”

“Who?” Kristof asked sleepily. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to wake you up.” Marion shuffled close and kissed him. “We’ve got another day of work ahead of us.”

Kristof pulled her close. “Nothing new. Just now we aren’t being beaten for taking a late morning.”

Marion looked out the wooden slat window. The murkiness of night still remained in the sky, not for long though.

“God’s I love your coat.” Kristof buried his head into her chest. “So soft.”

Unlike Kal, or many of the humanoid Beast-kin, Marion’s short fur covered almost every inch of her body. Only the tips of her large breasts, breasts that were equally painful and gratifying to have, weren’t covered. Marion and Kristof had removed their golden piercings and had Kal heal the wounds. She didn’t know about Rasha...

“Stop it you.” Marion sighed, wrapping her hand around his head and pushing him deeper. “Is that the only thing you like about me?”

Kristof nodded. Marion growled and vigorously rubbed his scalp. Kristof pulled himself back up and began to kiss Marion deeply. Something pressed against her leg. Marion lifted the sheet and sighed, Kristof only returned a sly smile.

Marion chuckled. “Well, what do you expect me to do about that?”

---[]---

When they finally stepped outside, fully clothed and rejuvenated from a quick tumble; at least Marion was, Kristof was somewhat drained, Atros was just starting to come alive.

“Imagine being this late in Seocuria.” Kristof wrapped an arm around Marion’s waist and kissed her again. “Or being caught doing this.”

“You-”

“Can you not?” Someone laughed behind them. “I haven’t eaten yet. And I’d like to still have an appetite.”

Marion raised a brow. Eider and Ulyaa exited their home, looking just as tired as when she arose from her sleep. However the Arachnid and Cobra girls held themselves in higher esteem than usual. Marion’s eyes were drawn to their clothes. Their clothes were no longer old and mottled, every Beast-kin’s clothes had been repaired and improved since they arrived but it was still the same cloth, theirs were now brand new, a fine light cream coloured cloth.

“Is that…”

Ulyaa nodded. “Yep. It’s clothing made from my silk.” Ulyaa stretched out the hem of her shirt. As an Arachnid she needed to wear a tight skirt around her waist, where her human body met her spider bottom. If she didn’t she would be exposing herself to the world.

“The seamstresses finally worked out how to use it,” Ulyaa continued as she approached. Marion kept a firm eye on Kristof, who couldn’t keep her eyes off of Ulyaa. She was unusually large for an Arachnid, almost as large as herself. Kristof realised and forced his eyes up.

Eider chuckled. “I spilt something on it last night and it just washed right off. I was worried I’d have to beg Ulyaa for another.”

At least I don’t anything to worry about with Eider. At least up top.

Ulyaa’s eyes widened in delight. “These are for you two.”

Ulyaa twisted her body around and picked a small bundle resting on her spider body. Two sets of Arachnid silk clothes. Marion graciously took hers. Kristof hesitated.

“Are these for me?”

“Of course?” Ulyaa raised a brow. “Who else would they be for?”

“I…” Kristof coughed and took the clothes. “Thank you.” He held the clothes to his chest.

“Your welcome.” Ulyaa smiled.

“But please don’t change here.” Eider chuckled.

“Where are you two working today?” Marion asked. “Same as yesterday?”

Ulyaa nodded. “Back to the fields for me. At least until a bit before lunch.” Ulyaa tapped her spider rear. “That’s when I make as much silk as I can.”

“Do you make it wherever they make clothes here?” Marion asked.

Ulyaa flushed but attempted to hide it behind a smile. “I’d die with embarrassment if they saw me…With all that silk underneath my spinneret. I wouldn’t let even Eider see me do it. Or Irso.”

“Is she still sleeping?” Kristof asked. “I remember that Drakelings have a difficult time waking up. Some times.”

Eider shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s been leaving early some mornings. Speaking of having trouble are any of you feeling cold in the morning?” Eider scratched her arms. “I just feel really slow some mornings.”

“Cobra’s aren’t supposed to be anywhere cold.” Marion looked to the clear sky. “They never work near the Clansmen territory.”

“Anton said that I’m cold-blooded.” Eider began. “That I’d have trouble when the snow starts to fall.” Eider pulled on her shirt. “He mentioned something about getting clothes more suited for winter, not that yours aren’t good, Ulyaa. I just don’t want to freeze.”

“Do we even have enough wood or coal to heat everyone?” Ulyaa asked. “It’s going to be a long time before winter’s over.”

“We should do.” A door on the far side of the street opened. A giant blue Minotaur woman emerged, Rasha had to duck so her bright orange horn didn’t strike the wood. Marion didn’t want to tell her about the dirty line on her horn. “I asked Anton, but it’ll only be a little fire.”

“Morning Rasha.” Ulyaa gently waved. “How do you know that?”

“Well…” Rasha rubbed her hand through her hair. “I was kind of worried about you, Eider, since you are affected by the cold more than we are…I barely feel it.”

“I….” Eider blinked. “Thanks.”

Eider folded her arms and looked Rasha up and down. Rasha wore her new armour set, not exactly fashionable, something that Kal mentioned while throwing glances at the Bebbezzarian woman, Cetina, but it was clearly very strong. She wore it with pride, just like the halberd she held in her hand. Marion worried that she was going to turn back into a bully, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone of her sheer size and strength to intimidate nearly anyone, but so far she had been well behaved.

“That armour’s still annoying me though,” Eider grumbled.

“You can get one too.” Rasha smiled warmly, an honest smile. “But you would have to be ready to fight.”

Eider scratched her hood. “Not for me. At least not yet. I…The blood and sounds of fighting were a little too much for me.”

“It’s not for everyone.” Rasha mumbled softly.

“Since Anton’s not here what will you be doing?” Kristof asked.

“For the morning I’ll be training. Then I’ll help the builders for a bit then some more training.” Rasha tapped her hooves on the cobblestone ground. “I need to be as strong as possible to do my duty. Especially since I can’t use magic.”

“I wonder if I’ll actually be able to become a mage.” Ulyaa held her finger to her chin. “I guess I’ll find out one day.”

“Can you read?” Marion asked.

“No,” Ulyaa smirked. “I think your daughter’s the only Beast-kin here that can. And she didn’t have anyone to help her…You must be really proud of her.”

Marion felt her eyes turn wet. “I am. I really am. And I’m so glad that I get to see her before I died. I never gave up hope that she got out safely…”

Rasha grunted and nodded. “Out of all of us, Irso was the only one that would’ve died of old age.”

“She seems to be enjoying forge work a lot.” Eider laughed. “Too hot for me…Maybe not, actually. Maybe I’ll find a job there during winter.” She rubbed her scaled hands together. “All that wonderful fire to keep me warm.”

---[]---

Marion stretched her spine back and forth after loading another large basket of wheat onto a cart. The human driver, who also organised the baskets to maximise space, looked at Marion with some worry.

“Are you okay? If it’s too heavy you don’t have to fill it so high.” He tapped on another basket. “This is about three-quarters of what you’ve done and it’s fine.”

“It’s just something that we dealt with in Seocuria.” Marion laughed. “Though if I’d stopped like this they’d have already clobbered me over the head.”

He scratched his head, searching for something to say.

Marion had this happen nearly every day while living in Atros. She and many of the Beast-kin wanted to prove that they were worthy of staying, and not being sent back. The humans, and the Seocurian refugees especially, were always nice to them. Far too nice. Something about it irked Marion’s thoughts, that they were being treated like children rather than people.

“You need to relax.” Marion moved to the side as a human and a Beast-kin loaded a basket of apples. “We just need to work, work without thinking about our life in Seocuria. It’s the only way we’ll stop it from looming over our every thought. When we stop it sort of comes back.”

“I was told to be nice to you all…I mean…”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Marion took a deep breath. “I know you’re trying to do the right thing and be extra nice to us but…we can see right through it. We’re slaves, former slaves, but we can see through false faces pretty easily.”

“From…” The man took a small breath. “From your masters or your fellow slaves?”

“Both.” Marion wagged her finger. “You need to know who’s about to use you. Those that don’t get used, learn from it or die.”

“I see…”

“Just. Just tell everyone to treat us like you would another human.”

The man raised a brow.

“Don’t worry about mentioning we were once slaves, there’s no way we’ll ever forget. Just treat us like everyone else and everything will be fine.”

He opened his mouth to retort but closed it. He gave a nod and returned to his duties. Marion picked up an empty basket and returned to the fields. Humans and Beast-kin passed her, some laughing and joking while others kept their faces flat and focused onto their work. Most Beast-kin fell into the latter. Marion didn’t blame them; the horrors of Seocuria would never truly leave them.

“Did you just yell at that man?” Kristof asked. He wielded a sickle, bundled as many wheat stalks as he could in his other and cut them free. Already he had a great many lying neatly on the ground. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Marion shrugged, knelt down and began to collect the stalks. “I just couldn’t stand them being so nice to us anymore. I mean…I hate to bring it up but Anton said that he wanted this place to be equal for everyone. It’s not equal when we’re forgiven for big mistakes and they keep letting us get away with us not pulling our weight.”

Kristof stopped after he cut the next bundle free. “Yeah. I can see what you’re saying. Maybe for the newcomers…They’re doing alright, aren’t they?”

“They’re doing fine. But I want them to treat us like equals right from the start. Don’t let us think that we’re going to be treated any differently.”

Marion stopped. A small group of Seocurian refugees were harvesting wheat alongside humans and some Beast-kin. While the Beast-kin and Seocurians were doing their best, she spied another group of Beast-kin staring at them full of hatred and anger. One caught Marion watching, warned the others, and returned to their work.

“I don’t think Anton’s little city is going to work out.” Marion sighed. “Not with the Seocurians here.”

“Where can they go?” Kristof asked, beginning to cut again. “They can’t exactly go back to their fishing village.”

“No…Well, maybe. But that’s something that we’d have to talk with Anton about.” Marion looked for the Beast-kin group but they had gone. “I do worry about Loretta and her children.” She looked up at Kristof. “I don’t think they’d go unless Anton forced them with magic.”

Kristof glumly nodded and continued his work.

Only when the sun was directly over Marion’s head did they call for work to be halted. Marion didn’t feel like she was being pushed hard; they were allowed a few moments to catch their breath or drink some water before returning to work. Some Beast-kin decided to spend a little longer than acceptable chatting and received a reprimand from their human supervisors. It wasn’t harsh but they had taken Marion’s words to heart, at least a little. Everyone was allowed to pick whatever spot they wanted to eat. Marion chose a tree near the wall. Her meal was very simple; a mixture of dried fruits and some meat. Kristof only had vegetables and some dried fruit. He, like Rasha, couldn’t handle meat or anything with too much sugar. Otherwise their stomach would bloat and they could actually die in the worst circumstances. Marion had witnessed that once.

“So good.” Kristof happily chewed the piece of lettuce. “This is the best food I’ve ever had. And there’s so much too. I feel like I could get fat eating this.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Marion jabbed his side. “No way am I sleep with a flabby ball.” A clawed hand stroked the hard muscles underneath his shirt. “I prefer it like this.”

“Ulyaa told me you were still flirting even after you’d got out of your house,” Rasha said as she approached. A thin veneer of sweat covered her blue skin, some sections of her armour had been loosened but she still looked like a warrior.

“I can’t help it.” Kristof smiled. “Not when I’ve got someone as lovely as Marion.”

Marion rolled her eyes but didn’t rebuke him as Rasha set next to her and began to eat. She had the same meal as Kristof, though perhaps a bit more. She was much larger than Kristof and was actively trying to get stronger.

“How did you get that armour?” Kristof asked.

“Well…” Rasha smiled. “Anton asked if I wanted to be his bodyguard and I said yes.”

Though her tail was small Marion heard it swaying happily against the grass.

“Maybe I should ask for something like that.” Kristof rubbed his chin. “Having some armour would be great.” He looked towards the gate, Eider and Ulyaa waved as they approached with small bundles of food. “To keep us safe…I don’t know about leaving Atros to fight.”

Marion nodded. “I’m already having a hard time with Kal being away. I don’t want you to leave too.”

Kristof smiled and slowly nodded, wrapping her fingers through his. Rasha said nothing as Eider and Ulyaa sat in front of them.

“Another day.” Eider groaned. “But a good one.”

“I think today I made more silk than I usually do.” Ulyaa smiled. “How are those clothes? Are they any good?”

“They’re great.” Marion stretched one of the sleeves. “Really good. I think it might be better than what the humans have.”

“I was beginning to think that too.” Eider laughed. “But soon there’ll be enough to make clothes for everyone.” Eider slapped Ulyaa’s spider behind. “That big butt makes a lot of silk.”

“Not as big as yours,” Ulyaa said nonchalantly, ripping into a piece of meat. “If I had a human butt it wouldn’t be as big as yours.”

Eider stuck out her tongue, Cobra’s were incredibly long, and the two laughed. Eider hadn’t had any further incidents and the number of other Beast-kin each day suffering something comparable was dropping rapidly. Though Anton had asked Marion to be a Beast-kin representative there wasn’t that much she could do...But whatever she could she would. If only to make her daughter proud.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, Kristof and Rasha ate theirs far more quickly as they had much more to eat, but something was bothering Rasha. She kept glancing to the gate, bobbing back and forth between bites. Finally, Marion had to ask.

“What’s wrong?”

“Usually Irso joins us.” Rasha frowned. “But the last few days she hasn’t come. And she doesn’t tell us why.”

“I’d hardly think she’d stop being friends with you two.” Marion nodded at Eider and Ulyaa. “Especially them. Not after everything she’s done to look out for you.”

“We’ve got some time before we need to get back to work.” Eider smiled devilishly. “Do we want to try and find her?”

“I’m sure she’s got something important to do,” Marion said calmly. “She might be receiving extra training to become an actual smith. The first Beast-kin smith of Atros.”

“Anton would be pleased,” Rasha said, Eider agreed.

“So do we want to go find her?” Eider asked, clearly not waiting for a response.

---[]---

Marion grumbled to herself as she walked through the Atros streets. Before she could stop Eider she had already asked their supervisor if they could leave. Since they had more than fulfilled their quota they were allowed to go. Marion decided to follow them, just in case they managed to get into trouble. It was also good to stretch their legs rather than spending all their time hunched over collecting wheat. Rasha also joined them since the training fields were in the north.

“Hello?” Eider tapped her fist on the entrance to the smithy. There was so much noise coming from inside that no one responded at first.

“Hello?” Ulyaa asked, raising her body over Eider to lean inside. Marion wouldn’t admit it aloud but the way she could raise and lower herself was a little unsettling, not as unsettling as the look on Eiders face as Ulyaa rested her chest on her head.

“I don’t think they can hear you,” Kristof mumbled.

“Probably…Oh,” Eider waved at someone inside. “Can you help us?”

Two small Seocurian children emerged, covered in soot and blasted by heat but clearly happy.

“Hello.” Lili smiled. “Everyone’s really busy right now. How can we help you?”

Marion caught Seamus, Lili’s brother, trying to catch a glimpse of the girls’ rears.

Well, at least he doesn’t care they’re Beast-kin...Just because they look like the Seocurian Slavers doesn’t mean they are…

“We were wondering if Irso was in.” Eider peeked inside, brushing away Ulyaa. “She’s been acting a little strange over the past few days and we’re worried about her.”

“Umm…” Seamus looked inside. “She left just before lunch and hasn’t come back. She’s been doing that a lot, actually. But Jonathan doesn’t say anything about it. She works really hard.”

“Harder than some of the actual smiths.”

“So what could she be doing?” Rasha asked. “There’s not that much to do in Atros…Not that it’s bad here. Far from it.”

A tall Seocurian woman moved through the smithy. Loretta, one of the few Seocurian refugees Marion knew by name. She appeared to be a good and loving mother, though Marion had little to do with her once they’d settled down in Atros.

“If you find Irso can you tell her to hurry on back?” Loretta patted her children’s’ heads.

“How long does it take?” Eider asked.

“She doesn’t just leave for the rest of the day, does she?” Ulyaa tilted her head.

“No. But when she does she’s really distracted and sort of lost…But not in a bad way.” Loretta winked at Marion and Kristof. “If you understand my meaning.”

So she’s found someone…But why the secrecy? And who could actually seduce and bed a Drakeling without getting their dick ripped off? No one’s that brave…Maybe someone that doesn’t know much about them…

Marion spared a glance to Rasha before nodding.

“I didn’t think that you’d be a part of this, Marion.” Loretta smiled. “I thought the personal lives of the Beast-kin weren’t really an issue.” Loretta frowned and held her chin. “But I suppose they’re going to have just as many trysts and break-ups as humans do.”

Kristof shrugged. “I haven’t heard of many new couples, only those that were before leaving Seocuria. Once they really relax I think things might start to get interesting.”

“Hopefully it goes better than my first.” Loretta’s laugh was somewhat pained. “Anyway, I saw her going towards the south, towards the stone and lumber yard. Didn’t you see her on the way here?”

“I didn’t see her when I was coming from the training fields.” Rasha mused. “I wasn’t really looking for her though.”

“Find Zac and see what he has to say.” Loretta pushed her children back inside the smithy, both gave a small wave. “Sorry, but we’ve still got a lot of work. Oh, are you enjoying life in Atros? You, Rasha? I never thought I’d see someone as big as you giggling like a little girl to get some armour.”

Rasha flushed, her ears pulled back and down embarrassment. “I didn’t think I’d get this so quickly.”

Eider grumbled something while Ulyaa chuckled. Marion decided to ignore this strange little rivalry they had.

“We’re doing fine,” Marion said. “If we do find Irso we’ll send her this way.”

“Thanks.” Loretta waved as she returned to the smithy. “Good luck finding her.”

Those working in the stone and lumber workshop had no idea where Irso was, nor did they know where Zac was. Marion had spoken with Zac before, a man as large and built like a bear, and appeared to be a nice person. The workers suggested going to his house. It looked nearly identical to every other house in this section of Atros, this was one of the last areas to be rebuilt with the help of the Dwarves and Beast-kin labourers, except there appeared to be another attached to the side.

Marion stopped Eider from knocking on the door to Zac’s house.

“What?” Eider asked softly.

“Let’s not make too much noise,” Marion said. “Just in case…”

Eider’s eyes widened. “Are you saying…Oh.” Eider pumped her fists. “If she is this is going to be so good. After all the crap she’s given us over the winters…”

Ulyaa rolled her eyes as Eider pressed the side of her head against the door. She didn’t have ears, rather small holes where sound entered. It meant she struggled to hear soft noises but overall it wasn’t too bad.

“I can hear something.” Eider was on the verge of giggling.

“What?” Rasha asked.

Marion wanted to say something but found she couldn’t find the energy. It was very clear from Eider what was happening and yet…

“Do you really need an explanation?” Marion asked.

“Oh…” Rasha chuckled nervously. “I understand.”

I never actually saw you with a Beast-kin. Some tried, tried really hard…But you were always bigger.

“The noise is louder from over here.” Eider trotted around to the rear of the house. She placed her head against the wall. “Yeah. Much louder.”

“This is ridiculous.” Marion grabbed Eider’s shirt and pulled her away. Marion’s ears were much more sensitive than anyone else present, she could hear moans of two people in ecstasy, one voice crackled in the tell-tale tone of a Drakeling. “What they do is up to them. And we’ve wasted enough time following them. When we see Irso next I’ll have a chat about it.”

“But it’s fine though, right?” Eider asked. “Human’s and Beast-kin?”

“I think it’s more they’re wasting time.” Ulyaa scratched the ground with a front leg. “When they should be working. When everything’s done I don’t think there’s a problem.”

“True. But I don’t think it’s right to interrupt them right now.” Marion pushed Eider away, the rest quickly following. “Come on. I’ll deal with it when we see her. And you lot shouldn’t say a thing until I have. Alright?”

---[]---

Only when the sun was starting to hang low in the sky, when the day’s work had finished and everyone was returning to the safety of the city walls did Marion find Irso. The Drakeling walked towards them, completely unaware that they knew about her mid-day tryst.

“Are you done for the day?” Irso’s voice crackled, smoother than normal.

“Hello to you too, Irso,” Marion said dryly.

Irso shrugged and nodded once to Kristof. Irso wasn’t the type of person to chat idly, or even hold a friendly conversation if she didn’t have too. She was a very, very gruff individual.

“Did you make it back in time?” Marion asked.

Irso’s body turned rigid. “What do you mean?”

Marion sighed. She pulled Irso and Kristof away and out of earshot of the others. “Eider, Ulyaa and Rasha were getting worried about you not turning up for lunch with us.”

“So?” Irso folded her arms and shook her head. “Does it matter if I’m late or I miss one or two?”

“Not really. But they do worry about you. Just like you worry about them.”

Irso scoffed. “Not Rasha. That lump of muscle can easily take care of herself.”

You really have run out of things to call her.

“Regardless of what you may think of her, she was the one that wondered where you were. And who you were with.”

Irso tensed again.

“I don’t really care that you’re with a human or whatever.” Marion raised her hand to stop Irso. “But you can’t do that sort of thing when you’ve still got work to do. There’s nothing stopping you from wandering off after we’ve had dinner.”

Irso slowly calmed down. For a moment she looked ready to deny it but she quickly relented. “I…I was worried what people might think if they saw me go each night.”

“More than just leaving in the middle of the day?” Kristof asked.

Irso kicked at the grass. “I don’t know! I…I just wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to…”

“So long as it’s consensual and it doesn’t interfere with your work there isn’t a problem.”

Unless Drakelings can give birth to Half-breeds…I don’t think Anton’s thought this whole thing through yet. What sort of people is he going to be ruling over one day?

Irso smiled, scratching on the scales on her face. “I wouldn’t call it consensual. At least from his end.”

“So you attacked him?” Kristof asked. “I recall Zac being pretty big for a human.”

Irso shrugged. “I didn’t think much of him when I first met him. He was being overly nice, in the way that Anton kind of told them to be to us. I really didn’t care. Anyway, we started talking whenever he visited the smithy. Which was a lot, it turned out. I think he just wanted to look at Loretta…Giant bouncing and flopping boobs everywhere.”

Compared to the majority of women that Marion knew Irso was likely the closest to an ideal body; she had the curves in the right places, slim where it needed to be. It was just her attitude that made things difficult. In fact, most Drakelings were rather beautiful, but they weren’t as prickly as Irso, except when someone they didn’t know touched them.

“So,” Irso rolled her eyes. “One day I got annoyed and said something to him, I can’t remember what it was. I told him to be a man and spill his guts out to Loretta, so he would get over her, or find someone else. Next thing I know he’s got me pinned to a wall…Or maybe it was the other way around.” Irso scratched her head. “It might actually have been me. And then…thing’s sort of went from there.”

Irso grunted and kicked the ground. “Don’t ask me how it happened, it just did.”

Marion held Irso’s shoulder. Irso looked at the hand then to Marion. She wasn’t angry, just somewhat annoyed.

“It’s perfectly fine. So long as you two are enjoying yourselves.”

“We are.” Irso gently removed Marion’s hand. “At least I think we are.”

“Judging by the sounds you were making you were.”

For the first time, Marion saw Irso flush. Her body trembled but she didn’t lash out or try and run away. She fought it down, though it took some time.

“Don’t tell the others.” Irso looked to the north. “Please?”

“I’ll tell them not to say anything.”

Irso grumbled. “Ugh. So they know…What are those?”

Irso pointed to some small birds flying over their heads.

“Lightning Crows,” Marion said. “At least that’s what Kal called them. Magical beings that Anton made to defend Atros. Any Goblin or Ghlotsm within a mile of Atros will be attacked. But…Usually, it’s just one or two.”

“I must be inside the smithy most of the time they’re out.” Irso followed them towards the south. “Is this bad?”

“We should at least get inside.” Marion pushed them both towards the wall. “Just in case.”

Atros guards spilt out of the outer wall and ushered everyone inside. While they wore simple metal and leather armour Marion saw some wearing an underlay of Arachnid silk clothing. Either they didn’t know or didn’t care. She hoped they simply didn’t care.

“Please get inside.” A human soldier waved them in. “There’s a lot of them coming.”

“How many?” Marion asked. Kristof kept her moving.

“Lots.” The guard made sure no one was outside and ordered the door to be shut. “The riders think about two thousand.”

“That many?” Kristof asked worriedly.

The guards smiled. “We’ve faced worse. A lot worse. And there were less of us back then too.”

Another guard laughed. “No Dark Elves either.”

Marion watched the door close with a heavy thunk. Armoured guards pushed them further into the city while they took positions on the wall. It was mainly humans but Marion saw several Beast-kin taking up positions alongside. Behind them Dark Elves, wearing a thick dark leather and cloth armour, took up position with large bows in their hands. The humans and Beast-kin mainly used cross-bows with several wielding bows.

Though the wall obscured her view she could hear lightning striking something in the distance.

Marion continued to be pushed back as more and more soldiers rushed to the front. Rasha moved amongst them, her sheer size unmissable. Marion tried to call out but she didn’t hear. Her eyes were focused on the fight to come.

“Let’s head to the next wall,” Kristof said. “We’ll be able to see it from there.”

The second wall was filling up rapidly with people wanting to watch the fight. Marion spotted Eider and Ulyaa already having taken up position on one of the small stone towers. The guards on this section of the wall were younger, much less well equipped and quite nervous.

“How many did they say?” Eider asked as they ran up the stone stairs.

Marion waited until they were next to her before speaking. “About two thousand they said. Can you see them?”

“I can see where the Lightning’s striking,” Ulyaa said. She manoeuvred herself so her legs were tucked underneath her body, out of everyone she took up the most space.

The grasslands beyond the crop fields were alight with lightning strikes from the hovering Lightning Crows. Despite their attacks the Goblin horde, their green and yellow skin reflecting the light from the lightning, continued their assault.

“Is Anton going to come here?” Eider asked. She looked Irso up and down. “At least someone managed to have some fun before all of this.”

“Be gentle.” Marion patted Eider’s head. Irso’s eye twitched.

The Dark Elves fired the moment the Goblins were in range. It clearly took Jeff, standing over the city gate, by surprise. The arrows found their mark and blunted the beginning of the charge. They continued to run through the fields, trampling the few unharvested crops underneath their feet. Marion knew virtually nothing about the Goblins; Seocuria, for all of its ills, never allowed the Goblins to grow to massive numbers. They were bad for business.

The Crossbowmen opened fire and peppered the Goblins as they reached the wall. However, as ever, the diminutive creatures didn’t have anything like siege equipment. She couldn’t see them but judging by the laughter of the guards, they were winning easily. Her heart softened when she saw the few remaining Goblins break and flee.

“That was easy.” Kristof chuckled. “Nothing to it.”

“Try that without a wall.” An elderly Dark Elf, who had moved beside them without making a sound. “See how long it takes before their corpses make a ramp and allow them in.”

“You’re…”

“Leran.” The Dark Elf bowed. “Leader of the Green Moon Clan. What’s left of it.”

“I’m sorry to hear how many of your people died.” Ulyaa bowed deeply.

Leran watched with interest, how her body bent. “Some of our people survived. Which is more than it could have been. As Beast-kin, what do you think of this place? A place run by humans…Humans that harbour Seocurians?”

Oddly specific. Is he trying to gain our support for something? They are supposed to be former pirates…And almost all of them are warriors. If they wanted to take over it wouldn’t be that hard, with Anton gone.

“We are enjoying it very much,” Marion stated adamantly. “Anton created something that hasn’t been seen, perhaps ever, and I will do everything I can to make sure it stays that way.”

Leran nodded and looked back to the southern wall. The gates opened and Dana, with her riders in tow, gave chase to the fleeing Goblins. Eider and Ulyaa gave her an odd look but Marion said nothing.

“Nowhere near what we fought.” Leran patted the stone wall with his gloves, small puffs of dust drifted into the air. “But still impressive. I’m interested to see what this place will become.”

Leran left the wall and walked towards a small group of Dark Elf warriors, two were very young girls. The twins didn’t wield bows but a single menacing short sword, even thought their belts clearly had been set up for two.

“Keep an eye on them,” Marion said quietly. “Make sure they don’t get up to anything stupid, to try and stir something up.”

“You really think they would?” Ulyaa asked.

“Are you now worried about Anton’s city?” Eider snickered.

Marion nodded. “Not a lot of Beast-kin are happy with the Seocurians being here. It might not be too difficult to convince some of us to get rid of the Seocurians, and Anton, since he wants them to stay…They don’t want Kal here either…Or some of you too.”

Ulyaa’s shoulders drooped.

“Don’t worry.” Eider clenched her fist tight. “We aren’t going to do something like that. Rasha isn’t either so they’re going to have to find someone else to help them. But we’ll keep an eye out.”

Marion felt something rise throughout her body, a strange hotness and pressure, a constriction around her heart and breath. This feeling had come before, when something terrible was about to happen. She doubted the Dark Elves would try to grow Atros like Anton wanted, a place where humans and Beast-kin could live side by side. One that Kal and she wanted too. One day that would happen. Of that she was sure, so long as nothing terrible happened.

Chapter 156 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Dancing Deers

Chapter 156:

Ivano watched over Brenningr with a keen eye from the relative safety of the Chieftains Hall. After killing Mord Ivano expected Arlid’s warning to come true; the people rising up with a sea of axes, spears and torches. However, things carried on relatively normally. Though the people he had thrown into the cold grumbled the rest of the people, while initially warry, had turned around. It helped when Ivano’s first action was to liberate the contents of the Fire Blades treasury to feed the people. Though there were some minor issues with inflation, something Ivano wasn’t aware was an issue, people were now doing far better. They were starting to put some meat on their bones and didn’t trudge through the snow, their backs straighter and strides faster.

“Ivano.” A voice came from behind. “Do you have a moment?”

Gavriel sat before the central fire, wrapped in several layers of fur. Despite living his whole life in Thessos, constantly beset by cold winds flowing down from the mountains, he wasn’t good dealing with the cold. Either that or he didn’t want to leave. Not surprising, given his position as a captive.

“What’s wrong?” Ivano took Mord’s old chair, now covered in layers of furs. “Is it another one of your economy things?”

Gavriel frowned deeply. “Inflation is a serious issue. You should have warned me that you were about to give everyone so much gold. It’s not good for keeping this place together.”

“How’s that?” Arlid asked. He and his brother sat opposite Gavriel, holding strips of cured meat over the flame. “Everyone’s got money. Lots of it. How’s that bad?”

“Even I have gold.” Arvid smiled, twirling a coin between his fingers.

“Because.” Gavriel shuffled closer to the flame. “Gold’s not worth as much. Which means you buy less food with the same coin.”

“I…” Arlid frowned and tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Would you accept a gold coin for a whole deer you’d just spent the day tracking?”

“No.” Arlid shared a confused look with his brother.

“But what about if you didn’t have the gold? And no one else had Ivano’s gold?”

“I…Yes. I suppose.” Arlid shrugged. “I’m still not giving it up.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Gavriel looked into the flame. “But I managed to keep it from imploding. I just bought a lot of food from the nearby villages. Spread it out a little bit.”

“That’s the other thing.” Arvid shuffled around the fire and patted Gavriel. “Everyone has loads of food.”

“Kept people from rioting.” Ivano smiled.

Ivano had asked the merchants, Clansmen merchants and traders wasn’t a desired or prestigious occupation, coming along a certain pathway, passing by a deep lake, if they had found any bodies or blood. They had not. The men Ivano had sent to deal with Dyri and his mother had succeeded, he hoped. They accepted their gold happily, Ivano threw in some more gold for good measure. Ivano didn’t care about how much he gave the man. He didn’t really want control over an entire clan. If anything he’d prefer a simple life with his family.

A family that was stuck in the grip of his Chieftain.

Gavriel sighed and stared into the flame again. “At least someone tries to understand economics. At least in Bebbezzar people would listen to this…I miss my wife and children.”

“You’ll be returning in the spring.” Ivano rubbed his back into the chair. “And you’ll be going back so much stronger. Already you’ve put on some muscle.”

Gavriel rubbed his arms. He had been complaining about sore muscles each day, with all the meat he was eating there was no way he wouldn’t get stronger. His wife would certainly be impressed.

“Speaking of that.” Gavriel produced a small book. “I’ve been going over the lists of things that can be traded with Bebbezzar. What do you think of these prices?”

Ivano chuckled. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to talk to someone else about that. I barely understood some of the things that you were talking about.”

“You were doing alright.” Gavriel smiled.

“I’m going for a walk.” Ivano ran a hand through his hair. “Any idea where Erik is?”

Arvid smiled. “He’s off with that slave girl. I think they’ve hit it off. They said something about heading to the south…Do you want us to come too?”

“I’ll be fine. Keep Gavriel safe, just in case one of the other captives wants to try something.” Ivano pulled himself from the chair. “Oh, and to keep our shaman safe.”

Kollskegg slept on his high chair, deeply asleep while wrapped in easily a dozen layers of furs. His assistant stood by his side, silent and waiting for his master’s instructions. Arlid offered him another piece of meat which he refused.

“I’ll be back soon.” Ivano was tempted to take Mord’s flaming axe, but it was simply too large and heavy. Not to mention it would sell for a great amount of gold. Something to keep in mind.

Ivano stepped out of the safety of the chieftain’s hall. The snow fell on his head, sticking to the loose hairs of his beard. Four heavily armed warriors standing guard stood straighter. Ivano gave a curt nod and continued down the stairs. He walked through the streets of Brenningr. The people were far happier, some even gave Ivano the odd wave and smile but most were content to go about their day without drawing attention. Ivano was still, technically, a usurper, even if he had taken rulership through legitimate means. The amount of gold floating around would put doubt into anyone disputing his rule.

Erik and the former slave girl stood on the most southern wall. While Erik wore his traditional garb the woman wore a mixture of civilian and warrior clothes, she could withstand a few strikes but not too many. Ivano doubted that she was actually going to fight.

“Another beautiful day.” Ivano rested his hands on the wall next to Erik. “If it weren’t for the people it would be perfectly quiet and still.”

“Nothing more than the falling snow to distract us.” Erik chuckled.

“You’re looking better.” Ivano smiled. “A little happier too.”

“Erik has done his best to keep me safe.” The former slave spoke very softly. Unina, she called herself, though she spoke little to anyone except Erik. “And has promised that I may return home during the spring.”

“I’m afraid there’s a chance your home might not exist anymore.” Ivano winced. “Clansmen…They’re not going to leave much behind when they pass through a town.”

“Actually it was the Seocurian’s that captured me.” She looked to the north. “They destroyed my village because we had settled on the wrong side of the river…But we had been living there for generations.”

“Sounds like an excuse to bolster their slave numbers.”

“Don’t they have all the Beast-kin slaves they could ever want?” Erik asked.

Ivano’s mind flashed back to the Wolf Beast-kin in Rangarvellir, beaten and downtrodden, yet not broken.

“I wonder if he’s still alive.” Ivano shook his head. “Anyway, have you seen anything out there?”

“Apart from merchants and a few deer, elk and some hungry wolves, not really.” Erik shrugged. “We haven’t seen Arnkel or anyone from the Blood Axe Clan. I’m sure they’ll have received the message by now…Do you think they’re up to something.”

Ivano folded his arms. “I don’t know. Just thinking that my family is in his hands and not my one makes me angry. If he does try anything I have an entire clan at my command. It won’t be enough to destroy him but it’ll weaken him so bad…There’s something.”

Over the horizon something moved across the snow, a winding column of darkness moving through the otherwise unbroken white. At the front Ivano saw the sign of the Blood Axe Clan raised high. Normally to hold the banner was considered a great honour, usually for someone’s son that couldn’t fight yet.

“Finally.” Ivano slammed his fist into the snow-covered wall. “Finally I can be done with this.”

“Do you think he’ll just let you go?”

“If you go what’s going to happen to us?” Unina lightly held Erik’s arm. Ivano hoped she hadn’t corrupted. Men would do some crazy things for a pretty girl.

“I don’t think I’ll be going, not like that at any rate. Hopefully, we won’t be going to war.”

“Wasn’t there another clan that wanted you dead?” Erik asked.

Ivano nodded. Ulfheid, the only female chieftain present during his sentencing, was more than likely against Arnkel, even if to just spite him for protecting Ivano. He had no real knowledge about her clan; their numbers, strength and weaknesses. If Arnkel expected him to defeat her he was in for a rude awakening.

“There was. But let’s focus on the present for now. I want to hold my wife and children again.”

---[]---

Brenningr’s warriors quickly mobilised as the column of Blood Axes drew closer. The condition of the warrior's gear had improved considerably, he wondered if leaving Gavriel to improve every facet of Clansmen life was a good thing, for both their sides. Nonetheless, it would create a good impression. At least that’s what he hoped.

Ivano spied Arnkel riding at the front of the column of about three hundred clansmen. He thought he looked almost comical on his small stocky horse, ideal for the snows of the Clansmen Territory but utterly hopeless compared to the tall majestic horses of the lowlands. No one was about to voice such thoughts, let alone him.

“I see someone behind Arnkel,” Erik said. He raised a glove to his brow. “Looks like a woman and three girls. They’re on foot but they look okay.”

Ivano couldn’t restrain his smile. “That’s them…Thank the Old Gods they’re alright. I haven’t seen them in so long.”

Arlid and Arvid had joined them on the wall. Both kept their weapons within easy reach, just in case.

“Chieftain.” A Fire Blade warrior approached. “Do you wish us to send some riders forward? See what they want?”

Ivano nodded. “Yes. I wish to make a good impression.”

A small group of ten riders exited the Brenningr; Ivano recognised one as the brother of the man Mord murdered, wearing very new and expensive armour, taking the lead. Their small horses quickly trudged through the snow to reach the column. After a few moments the column continued moving, one rode quickly back to the wall. It was indeed Arnkel, and he wanted to congratulate Ivano.

Ivano smiled, very forcefully, when Arnkel waved to him.

“Ivano!” Arnkel waved as he approached the closed gate, bringing the column to a halt. Ivano couldn’t see his wife or children, they must have been moved back.

“Chief Arnkel.” Ivano bowed his head. “I trust that your journey was safe?”

“Safe?” Arnkel smiled bitterly. “I left with four hundred men. We ran into the Stone Men. Managed to get away but they killed quite a few.”

“They are roaming far.” Ivano nodded once. “Please, come in. We have food and shelter for all.”

Arnkel clapped his snow-covered gloves. “Excellent. I see that you now command the Fire Blades. I take it that idiot Mord is dead?”

“Just like I said in the message, he is dead.” Ivano took a deep breath. “And his wife and child are no longer an issue.”

Arnkel nodded. “I had high hopes for you. And you exceeded them.” He whipped the reins as the door opened.

Ivano’s body tensed as the Blood Axe warriors entered Brenningr. They were as well armed as the bodyguards that Arnkel had sent with Ivano, not a question about them yet, but kept themselves well behaved. They were grossly outnumbered at the moment.

Arnkel pointed towards the Chieftain’s hall as Ivano stepped down from the wall. “I take it you’ve taken up residence in Mord’s hut.”

“We are.”

“Excellent.” Arnkel nodded to one of his closer soldiers. “I think it’s time they were reunited. He did succeed in his mission after all.”

The warriors parted and a woman pushed her way through, his woman. Sibbe. Sibbe was extremely beautiful, in a wild and ferocious way. Her short, rough brown hair was stained wet with snowflakes. Her cheeks were rosy red from the snow, something he never usually saw from her. Several scars covered her face, two very deep on her cheeks, but it did nothing to take away from the shimmering blue eyes staring at him. She ran towards him, three small girls in tow and jumped into his arms.

“Where the hell have you been?” She said loudly. “I thought you were dead.”

Ivano held her tight. “I thought I would never see you again too, Sibbe.”

Sibbe laughed and kissed him. His three daughters; Bolla, Signi and Hild, hugged his legs, pushing desperately past Sibbe. Each was a near copy of their mother, but they had his eyes. All three grabbed onto his legs with a near death-like grip.

Sibbe hugged him and brought her lips to his ear. “Don’t trust a word he says.”

Ivano didn’t nod and kissed her again. He knelt down and took his children into his arms. Though they really weren’t children anymore they scrambled into his arms. He struggled to carry Bolla and Signi, the smaller of his children, while Hild had to stay by his side, she didn’t relinquish hold of his leg though.

“Chief Arnkel!” Ivano shouted, Arnkel moved to the side and allowed the column to continue forward. “Arvid and Arlid will make sure that you and your men are taken care of. I must spend some time with my wife and children.”

“We will?” Arlid asked softly.

Arvid slapped his side.

“Of course we will, Chief Arnkel” Arlid smiled alongside his brother. “We have food and beautiful women for you…If you would be so inclined."

Arnkel laughed. “There was only one woman in our column. And she’s not to be touched.”

Ivano’s grip tightened, his children tapped his chest. Sibbe held his shoulder, her fingers dug deep into his shoulder.

“Take your time, Ivano.” Arnkel began moving again. “It doesn’t matter if we don’t speak until tomorrow.”

Only when Arnkel was out of earshot did Ivano say a word.

“Did he try anything?” Ivano whispered.

Sibbe shook her head but kept her eyes firmly planted on the Blood Axe warriors. “He didn’t. We need to speak in private.”

“Alright.”

Ivano kissed her again, his children groaned at the sight of their parents sharing an intimate moment. He ruffled their heads after letting them down. Soon they would become interested in boys, and all the troubles that brought.

“Erik? Can you go make sure that everything’s alright.” Ivano nodded to Unina. “Make sure they don’t get the wrong idea about her.”

Unina tensed but quickly relaxed.

“I will. Just don’t take too long.” Erik began to move hurriedly down the stone stairs. His feet slipped, he caught himself but he decided to move far more cautiously afterwards.

“This way.”

Ivano led Sibbe and their children to a small wood storage building. It was enclosed, preventing snow from smothering the wood, and safe from prying eyes and ears. The moment Ivano closed the doors he was set upon by Sibbe again. She didn’t kiss him, only holding him tight with every fibre of her being. They said nothing, the children wanted to join in but held themselves back. Eventually, Sibbe relinquished her tight hold and stepped back.

“What happened to you?” Sibbe pulled herself in again. Ivano would never say it but she had the ideal Clanswoman body, large in all the right areas and strong, the ideal woman for birthing warriors. He would only mention that if he was planning for an early grave.

“I got caught.” Ivano smiled bitterly. “It all went to hell. We lost nearly everyone…I managed to survive. Somehow. Then they decided to blame everything on me and, well, I’ve been to Bebbezzar?”

Sibbe sighed. She gripped his chest furs hard and placed her forehead against his chest. “When they told me the…I thought you were dead. Next thing I know those Fire Blade arseholes are banging on my door and forcing me to come with them…”

Sibbe shook her head, grinding her hair into his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

Sibbe looked up, her eyes wet. “Do you think I could honestly raise these three by myself? They need a father to keep them in line.”

Ivano held her tight until she was calm, though partly it was for his sake. He was worried he would never hold nor see any of them again.

“They didn’t try anything, did they?” Ivano asked softly.

Sibbe looked into his eyes. “Arnkel? No. But some of his warriors tried to get a little close, and to the girls. But I beat them up.”

Sibbe gripped her forearm, her hands couldn’t wrap around them. “They keep underestimating women. They should know a huntress needs to be strong.”

Ivano sighed, forcing himself to remain calm. Flashes of horrendous futures flew through his mind.

“So can you come home now?” Sibbe asked, pulling the children close. “Haven’t you done enough for them?”

“Not yet.” Ivano shook his head. Sibbe’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Arnkel’s not just going to let me go, I rule an entire clan now.”

Sibbe’s eyes narrowed even more. “You’re coming home. The moment you can. Do I need to beat up Arnkel to let you go?”

“Like you did your family?” Ivano chuckled.

Sibbe softened. “No…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to raid. I wanted something nice and simple…A family.”

“I do too…” Ivano ruffled the children’s hair. “What did you want to warn me about?”

“I’m not sure.” Sibbe smiled. “I just don’t like the way Arnkel looked at me, not hungry eyes but that I was a tool. I suppose I am really.”

“We should probably get back to them.” Ivano opened the door. “I want this over with as soon as possible.”

Ivano passed Sibbe the Bebbezzarian blade. “Keep that close. You never know.”

“You think I’m not armed?” Sibbe unbound her collar. She reached around her breast to draw a small, simple iron blade. “This has saved me more than once on that trip.”

Ivano pulled them close and walked along the city streets. The bustling trade had all but disappeared, people looked worryingly from their closed wooden slat windows. Ivano smiled and continued through the abandoned streets.

The chieftain’s hut bustled with activity; the Fire Blade clan warriors stood nervously as Arnkel’s men, and by extension Ivano’s clan, the Blood Axes, roared and cavorted with reckless abandon. The interior wasn’t large enough for everyone so the Blood Axe warriors spilt outside. They didn’t seem to care, so long as they had some hot foot, ale and a pretty woman between them. Ivano didn’t want to know how Arlid and Arvid found them so quickly. He did know, he just didn’t want to say it. The women fawned over the men, lovingly stroking their chests and occasionally brushing a hand against their crotches. It was more than enough to completely distract them. Sibbe shook her head and pulled their children close.

Inside was a total mess. Blood Axe warriors sat on any flat place they could find, mainly content to sit around the small fire. Someone tossed a chair into the flame and cheered with the burst of embers. Ivano forced himself calm as he approached Mord’s old chair. Arnkel hadn’t taken it as his own, at least not yet, and stared at the chair, smiling to himself.

“Can’t believe this hulking thing decided to use this.” Arnkel patted the armrest. “What an absolute idiot. Kollskegg said you beat him quite easily.”

“I got lucky.” Ivano pushed through the Blood Axe warriors. They glared at him for a moment before shuffling away. A few hands reached for Sibbe but she put them down with but a single ferocious glare. “He was rather…angry.”

“Nothing new for that mongrel.” Arnkel patted the armrest again and stepped to one side. “But mangy dogs get put down just like they deserve.”

Ivano took the chair, Sibbe and his children stood opposite Arnkel.

“And his child?” Arnkel asked softly. “Surely they would want revenge…”

“They’ve been taken care of.” Ivano received a look from Sibbe. “They shouldn’t be a problem.”

Arnkel raised a brow. “Shouldn’t? Not won’t?”

“I wasn’t there,” Ivano said softly. “But I trust those that were. They have more than enough reason to see it through.”

Arnkel gently nodded. “Well, we’ll just have to hope that it was enough. You’ve done extremely well, Ivano. Far more than what I expected when you arrived at our feet in chains.”

“And after being beaten.” Ivano wiggled himself further back into the chair. “I was beaten for several days for my failure.”

“But that is all in the past now.” Arnkel waved to a Blood Axe warrior who brought him a chair. “Unfortunately, your work is not done yet.”

Sibbe gripped Ivano’s arm hard. “You said that once he was done with the Fire Blades he would be free. That’s what you said!”

Arnkel smiled and laughed. “She has a serious bite, doesn’t she? But I’m afraid not. There is still one Chieftain that…disagrees with me. One that wants to continue the pointless raids of the lowlands while they, and we, chip away at our strength.”

“The Bebbezarians chased us for days,” Ivano said softly. “Only a sudden downpour of snow turned them back. If it didn’t they’d have chased us the whole way. We’re no longer safe up here.”

“Indeed.” Arnkel looked to Gerin. “The Bebbezarians are quite wealthy. And have many cities near the mountains. They know how to live near the cold, even if the other lowlanders do not.”

“So this is about Ulfheid?”

Arnkel nodded. “With Mord’s death only Ulfheid could stand against us. Not that I think she will, not directly at any rate, but warriors, dissatisfied without the raids, will flock to her. If nothing else it’ll drain our forces, and continue to antagonise the lowlanders. Effectively undoing all our hard work.”

“To be honest, Chief Arnkel, I don’t want any of this.” Ivano held Sibbe’s hand. “I’d prefer to live peacefully with my wife and children.”

Arnkel nodded glumly. “I…Can appreciate that, but you have no choice. I do not know if I can trust any of my warriors not to turn the Fire Blades back into a warring bunch of raiders. It would be so tempting just to continue what we’ve been doing for generations.”

“Do you expect me to survive fighting another chieftain?” Ivano chuckled. “I got lucky with Mord. Also, it seems like I had some help from a friend of yours.”

Ivano nodded to Kollskegg, still soundly asleep underneath his layers of furs. Despite the ruckus surrounding him he continued dreaming unabated. His apprentice stood nervously to his side, fending off the more drunk Blood Axe warriors who were trying to do something.

“I thought it wise to maximise my chances,” Arnkel shouted at a nearby Blood Axe warrior, one of his personal bodyguards. The man bowed and hurried outside. He returned with a spindly young man, more a boy, who appeared dazed and confused.

“This.” Arnkel patted the boys’ shoulders. “Is my son, Borstig. I will have him as chief of the Wind Walkers.”

Borstig smiled faintly at Ivano but his attention quickly faded away, he turned to the open doors and tilted his head.

“I know that Borstig will do as I say.” Arnkel took his previous seat. “So all you need to do is get him to beat Ulfheid and take control of the clan?”

“Him?” Ivano asked flatly. Borstig wouldn’t even pass as a weak Lowlander. “I hate to say this but it seems…Impossible. Ulfheid looked quite strong.”

“I would trust no one else with this task.” Arnkel smiled. He rose up and patted Ivano’s shoulder. “Once that’s done your job here is essentially over. You could even live in Brenningr, but if Ulfheid still lives and rules our position will never be safe. If you want your children to have a future you will ensure that he is able to take it. I will do my best to arrange another Blood Duel but it might be a little more difficult this time.”

“I can’t work miracles.” Ivano turned to find Borstig gone. His panicked eyes found him exiting the building and out into the snow. “What is he doing?”

“Not sure.” Arnkel shrugged. “He’s always been like that.” Arnkel stared at Ivano. “The Fire Blades have been drastically weakened by their failed raid on Thessos. It wouldn’t be too difficult to take them over. Especially if my son was to freeze to death under their protection…”

Ivano forced himself to remain calm. He found Arvid and Arlid chatting merrily with some of the Clanswomen brought in for the Blood Axes.

“Could you take Sibbe and my children to my room?” Ivano stood up. “I need to go find a wayward son.”

---[]---

“Where is he?” Ivano asked aloud.

The streets of Brenningr had grown deserted after the Blood Axe warriors entered. Only out of caution, for now at any rate. So long as they stayed in the barracks everything would be fine.

“How can one kid just wander off like that?” Ivano scratched his rough hair. “He’s barely the size of a twig and yet he can move completely silently…Maybe that’s why.”

“Who are you looking for?” A voice asked from the shadows, a voice belonging to a woman.

Ivano instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of a dagger, a Bebbezzarian dagger whose hook-like edges easily tore through flesh to inflict deep and terrible wounds. There was another person behind her, he too was wearing a cloak obscuring every feature of his body. He was very large and broad, probably far stronger than Ivano.

“A young man,” Ivano said softly. “He wandered out into the snow and I need to find him. He’s not wearing much clothing and I’m worried that he might freeze to death.”

Or if something thinks he’s an easy mark, kill him. Then I might as well jump into that lake…

“Haven’t seen him.” The man said. His voice was awfully familiar. “But at least this time losing wasn’t your fault.”

Ivano gripped the handle tighter. The man removed the hood covering his head. Ivano smiled when he saw green skin, an oversized bottom jaw with large teeth sticking out.

“Snakha.” Ivano laughed. “You look alright for an Orc this far north.”

Snakha shrugged and pulled Ivano in for a hug. The Orc was just as strong as Ivano thought. “It’s not that bad this far north. No idea what it’s like back home right now.”

“You didn’t bother to go back?” Ivano looked to the woman.

“Nope.” Snakha laughed. “They’d have killed me the moment I walked through the gates. They did that to pretty much everyone else that did. I was smart…Smarter than most. And I listened to Brenna here.”

Brenna removed her hood and smiled.

“It saved my life.”

“Ivano.” Brenna hugged Ivano, significantly less violently than Snakha. “Congratulations on your new position.”

“Seems you’re doing better each time we see you.” Snakha frowned lightly then shrugged. “Though this is only the second time.”

“What about you, Brenna?” Brenna raised a brow. “Did you have to marry a grunting and huffing man who’d collapse on you after three thrusts?”

Brenna laughed. “No. Don’t get me wrong, they wanted me to. I just punched my father and mother, told them where to shove it and left. Don’t know what they’re doing now.”

“Was…Was that the right choice?” Ivano looked to Snakha. “I don’t think you can exactly go back after that.”

“Whatever.” Brenna shrugged. “It’s not like it was the first thing I did. They wouldn’t shut up about it. After being told for four days you had to marry this great sweaty fat man, who’s never raided once in his life, or could barely raise an axe and wanted you to do all the work, you’d get pretty annoyed too.”

“I suppose so. So have you two been together since?”

“Yeah.” Snakha nodded. “Turns out Brenna can’t cook, so she was having a bad time of things for a while.”

Brenna scoffed. “Charred meat isn’t what I’d call ideal.”

“It’s good to see that you two survived. If you’re staying can you help me find Borstig? If something happens to him it’s all over for me.”

“He’s Arnkel’s runt?” Snakha asked.

Ivano furiously glanced around, thankfully no one appeared to have heard.

“Keep that stuff quiet. You don’t know who’s listening.”

“But it’s the truth?”

“It…It is.” Ivano sighed. “Just come with me.”

The two followed Ivano through the mostly deserted streets. Snakha put his hood back up to avoid the stares, Orcs were not common this far north and after the disaster of the assault on Qaiviel they would not be popular.

Brenna found Borstig first. She tapped his shoulder and pointed to a small open space before the wall. Borstig stood perfectly still, silently up at the sky as the snowflakes fell onto his face. He didn’t even blink as the landed on his eyes.

“Why did you leave?” Ivano asked, his voice barely hiding his anger. “If you wanted to go outside you should have just said something.”

Borstig turned silently to Ivano. It wasn’t creepy or unsettling, just strange.

“Are you alright?” Brenna asked. She held his exposed hand. “By the Old God’s you’re freezing. You should come inside.”

A flicker of something flashed over his eyes. He blinked, the snowflakes crushing and embedding themselves into his eyelashes, before moving to the wall. Ivano spotted only a few Fire Blade warriors but they were far more interested in watching for exterior threats. Borstig pointed to the snow outside. Through the unbroken white something moved.

“Look.” He pointed at one of the objects. “It’s a deer. He’s trying to court that doe.”

A white male deer, with large cream coloured antlers, danced in front of a smaller plain white doe. Ivano had no idea if she was interested or simply entertaining his attempts.

“See!” Borstig grabbed Ivano’s hand. “He’s moving his head back and forth, his front paw is now digging into the snow. She seems to be liking it.”

“Liking him digging at the snow?” Ivano asked.

Borstig shook his head. “She likes him.”

The doe approached and sniffed at his nose. They shared a quick, strange kiss and quickly ran away from Brenningr.

“See? They’ll be happy now.” Borstig’s eyes followed them running towards the forest. “So long as they don’t get eaten by wolves. But if they do…That’s the way of nature.”

“Are you alright, kid?” Snakha raised a brow.

Borstig said nothing and returned his attention to the snow.

“Do you often do this?” Ivano asked.

“My father’s wife isn’t my mother,” Borstig said softly. “I was born from a priestess…At least that’s what I was told.” Borstig looked at his hands. “I’ve always been like this.”

He can barely keep a line of thought together. Is he mad? Well, he’s definitely not right.

“Something draws me to animals.” Borstig smiled. “Something in my head. A faint voice, a whisper, that tells me to help them.”

“Do you know who that is?” Ivano asked. “There are many Gods…There’s one of animals.”

Borstig sighed. “I don’t know. My father took me to her shrine but I didn’t hear anything…Different.”

“Is there one here?” Ivano asked aloud. “I don’t think so but we should definitely talk to the shaman about it.”

Borstig said nothing and looked to the snow again. He smiled, Ivano saw some small snow rabbits frolicking through the small soft mounds of snow. They were burrowing through it for the faint pieces of grass and moss below. During the summer the snows were thin enough to allow it to grow, during the winter it was the only thing many small animals had to eat.

“It’s time to head back inside.” Ivano took the boy’s shoulder. “We have a lot of work to do before you can challenge any warrior, let alone a chieftain.”

Borstig began to panic, his breath grew harsh and his hand clutched his chest. “I can’t fight! Blood makes me sick. I want to vomit at the sight of it.”

“But the animals fight and kill each other?” Brenna asked. “How is that any different?”

“It just is!” Borstig shrugged Ivano off. He took a few paces, shook his hands and ran them through his hair.

Ivano and Brenna shared a worried glance as he tried to pull his head down.

“It’ll be fine.” Ivano stood in front of Borstig. He held his hand and righted the panicking boy. “You just need practice and a good teacher. Thankfully, you have a lot of good teachers. Some don’t even have both of their hands and they’re better than most warriors. Soon you’ll be able to take down an Orc by yourself.”

Snakha laughed. Borstig held the same concerns and reservations. Slowly he walked with Ivano back to the Chieftains Hall.

“My father…Arnkel, has talked about this before.” Borstig shook his head. “I read about the rules…And while it says I can’t have another warrior fight for me…It doesn’t say anything about having a creature with me.”

“What? Like a bear?” Ivano shook his head. “I don’t think they’d allow it.”

“But it doesn’t say anywhere that you can’t, only another warrior. And a creature isn’t a warrior.”

“So do you have an idea where this creature might be?” Ivano asked.

“I do.” Borstig smiled. “The voices in my head were much, much stronger before we arrived here. I know there’s something in the forests to the south.” His eyes turned childlike and full of excitement, he pointed to a large forest, just before the lake with several new sources of food sinking to the bottom. “Do you think we could do that? I know there’s something there. Something that can help me.”

Ivano held his shoulder. “Let’s…Let’s have a chat about making you an actual warrior first, okay?”

Borstig looked very happy. Ivano hoped he could actually manage to convince him to become a great warrior, he didn’t fancy the idea of wrestling a bear into submission.

Chapter 157 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Growing Turbulence

Chapter 157:

Sally picked at the iron flakes covering the iron bars of her cell. She hadn’t come very far, the bars had barely shrunk despite Sally’s constant attempts to whittle them down. It wasn’t that she expected to actually weaken the bars so she could escape, there simply wasn’t anything else to do. The days and nights merged with one another in the underground cell. There was a small source of light but that seemed to change on a whim rather than the passage of the sun through the sky.

“Sally!” A bright voice shouted down the empty corridor. “I’ve brought you food. It’s really good today.”

Out of the darkness, Mihal emerged. Unlike the rest of the people that held her prisoner he appeared to have…emotions. He skipped happily, barefooted, across the cold and damp stones with a tray of food in his hands. Though Sally was loathed to admit it the steaming meat and rolls of bread did look delicious.

“Sorry I’m late.” Mihal’s smile faded somewhat. “Grandad’s been…”

Mihal placed the plate in front of the cell and pushed it as far as he could. He didn’t have the key, at least Sally didn’t think he did, so Sally had to reach through the bar and began to eat the food. Mihal smiled at Sally in silence.

“I think I did something wrong.” Mihal stretched out his legs. “Grandad’s been upset for a long time.”

I need to keep him as a friend. He’s the only one who’s coming down here…Would they let me starve?

“Why do you think that?” Sally asked as she bit into the bread. “This, this is really good.”

Mihal rubbed his feet. “I don’t know. He’s been grumbling a lot, at everyone and me especially. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I’ve done all that he asked.”

Mihal raised his shirt. Sally forced herself to remain calm and continue eating; Mihal’s chest and stomach were covered in silver markings, the same hateful silver Sally touched leaking from the walls. The lines focused around his stomach, forming a circle before the lines dove bellow his pants. Sally didn’t want him to show how extensive they were.

“What are those?”

Mihal traced his fingers over the lines. “I’m not really sure. But Grandad said I needed them….” Mihal smiled and rubbed his chest. “They hurt a lot.”

“But if you did that, whatever that is, then why is your Grandad unhappy? If he’s angry at everyone it sounds like something happened and he’s just grumpy.”

Mihal frowned lightly and tilted his head. “Why would he do that?”

“When my father…” Sally pushed away the screams. “When something bad happened to him, like he hurt his hand, he’d be grumpy for days. My mother…” Again sally pushed it away, though the face remained in her thoughts. “She would get grumpy as well.”

Mihal smiled. “That’s a relief.” He put his shirt back on. “I thought something was wrong.” He held his chin. “I had this done before he got grumpy. Thanks, Sally. I feel a lot better now.”

Mihal began to pull his legs underneath his body. He was but a few moments from leaving, Sally didn’t want him to leave, if only for someone to talk to.

“Any-Any idea what’s got your Grandfather so upset?”

Mihal sat back down and leant close to the cell, checking either side for anyone. “Well, I’m probably not supposed to have done this, but I managed to sneak into one of their meetings.”

“How did you do that?” Sally moved forward. If Mihal thought they were sharing a secret, a secret to a friend, he might reveal something important. Maybe a way out.

Mihal pointed to the stone ceiling. “There are lots of gaps up there for me to crawl about. Granddad was talking about some…some silver mine they wanted.” Mihal shrugged. “Apparently they sent some Goblins to take it but they failed. He was pretty angry about that.”

“What do you want silver for? I mean, your Grandfather. What does he want with it?”

Mihal shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he said we needed it to buy stuff….But I’m sure that he’s got everything we need. Maybe it’s for some good food. I’d like some good beef.”

“That sounds pretty bad.” Sally forced a chuckle. “But that wouldn’t get me that angry and grumpy.”

“He also said something about losing control of some of the Goblins to the north.” Mihal twirled the small talisman in his hands. “That they’re not listening and attacking each other more than usual. I don’t know how that’s possible. They listen to everything they say when we have these…”

Mihal laughed as he let the talisman drop to his chest. “Maybe that’s how Grandad feels about us children.” He frowned lightly. “Then there was something about some islands beyond the sea…Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“No. Sorry.”

Mihal pushed the last of the food towards the cell door, Sally quickly finished the remains.

“Oh well.” Mihal smiled. “I feel a bit better now. How about you?"

“Me?”

“Yeah. You can’t exactly go very far in this cell.” Mihal smiled. “And you have only one place to poop. I didn’t want to say anything but it really smells.”

Sally had long ago learned to ignore the smell, there was no alternative.

“It would be nice to get away from it.” Sally turned to the small pit in the far corner. “But I can’t exactly leave.”

“Come with me then.” Mihal drew a small iron key from his pants and twirled it in his hand. “Do you want to come out?”

“Absolutely.”

Mihal brushed his pants and unlocked the cell door. Both were needed to push it open.

“Just stay close to me, okay?” Mihal tapped the talisman. “The Goblins act really mean and crazy if we aren’t wearing one of these.”

So I need to break them all. All except one, then I can walk out of here. But I really don’t know where here is. How far do I have to walk to find someone else?

Before they could take a few paces someone ran down the stone stairs. Sally’s heart lodged in her throat as another Ancient Listener emerged from the shadows.

“Why is she out?” The man asked softly.

Mihal planted his fists on his hips. “She’s been stuck in there for days, with no light or fresh air. I wanted to take her outside.”

The man gently shook his head. “Ghenadie has called for you.” He looked at Sally. “Only you.”

“Then he won’t mind her coming along as well.” Mihal smiled devilishly. “But he didn’t say that she couldn’t come, did he?”

The man already appeared completely and utterly exasperated. “We don’t have time to deal with this. Come with me then. Let Ghenadie sort you out.”

Mihal winked at Sally as they began their ascent. Sally’s legs felt weak, tired, as she climbed the stone flight of stairs. There wasn’t much chance of movement inside the cell, and walking around in a circle quickly drove Sally crazy. Mihal realised she was moving slightly slower and matched her speed, the other man did not.

The walls of the passageway were devoid of the strange liquid silver. Sally ran her fingers over a spot where she was certain it once lay. Nothing. Mihal had no idea what it was but had promised to ask about it, he had probably forgotten. Emerging from the dark passageway Sally felt relieved to not find any Goblins. It was eerily quiet and still, not that either people with her acted as though it was strange. Sally pulled close to Mihal, just in case.

The man led them higher and higher through the central castle, still absolutely no one was present. Finally, they passed a glass window. Sally marvelled at its size, easily taller than her, but then despaired upon looking beyond. The city of Surdon had once been crawling with Goblins, now it appeared to be near the bursting point. Green and Yellow Goblins were organised into great rows, numbers that Sally couldn’t begin to fathom, all under the guidance of Black Goblins and a few humans. They practised swings and thrusts of wooden sharpened stakes, some with stone-tipped spears. An argument broke out amongst the hordes, resulting in a large fight. The humans ordered the Blacks to separate them, the Goblins appeared completely unconcerned with any of their number dying. Reluctantly they broke up the fight, after killing a few more, but the damage was done. Twenty-odd Goblins lay dead on the stone ground. Some diminutive Greens were whipped forward and dragged the bodies away. Sally turned to ask but the two didn’t stop. She ran after them lest a stray Goblin wander up and find her.

“Are we there yet?” Mihal asked as the stairs plateaued out. “Even my legs are starting to get tired.”

“I-”

A high pitched screech sang through the air. Both the man and Mihal began to panic, Sally simply held her ears close.

“Someone has breached the defences.” The man broke into a run to the next flight of stone stairs. “Move it, both of you.”

Who? Who would be out this far?

Sally saw several of the other humans preparing a meal but had no time to ask as she began to ascend the stairs.

Is it help?

---[]---

Sally’s chest hurt when she reached the top of the castle. While her time in the cell had not done her any good she was more than a little relieved to see the other two were struggling slightly. The corridor leading from the end of the stairs was empty, the huge wooden door left open. Inside Sally saw heavily armed men and women, unfortunately dressed the same as the man with them, but their attention was directed to something on the far side. Ghenadie stood with a large table, some sort of map draped over it, between him and the mysterious intruder.

Mihal moved in front of Sally. While it was sweet he was trying to act brave Sally couldn’t ignore who and what they were.

One of the guards noticed their approach but didn’t move to stop them.

“Is this really necessary?” A woman’s voice called out.

Ghenadie kept his face flatter than normal. “You broke through the barrier. What did you expect?”

“You call that a barrier?” The woman chuckled, though dripping in falsities. “I barely even tried to break it. I’m surprised that you even knew I was here, a novice could have broken through it.”

Only a single woman standing on the far side. She was clearly not a part of them, not only did everyone have their weapons pointed at her but her clothes and even her face were completely different. She had long flowing dark red hair, a slightly rounded face and dark brown eyes. The cloak and what little she could see underneath looked find and expensive, though they were clearly built for long distances. The hem of her cloak was stained with dirt, her shoes scuffed and scarred, but the rest was fine. Did she walk the entire way from the city to the north? Could Sally even make it that far?

“I’m sure that breaking through such a barrier would be easy for a Strega Witch.” Ghenadie held a different talisman in his hand, one made from metal and covered in gems. “But I think even you would struggle to take us all down. Even for a powerful witch such as yourself.”

The woman, the Strega Witch, raised her hands. “I’m not here to fight. I-”

Ghenadie laughed, though stilted. “After breaking through our barriers…It’ll take days to rebuild them.”

“Then you need to make them better in the first place.” The woman chuckled sweetly, holding one hand to her hip while throwing her hair back with the other. “You’re a poor Principle Mage if it takes you that long to make something that weak.”

Ghenadie took a deep breath. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

She clapped her hands. “Straight to the point. I like that. My name is Eluria, that’s all you need to know me by. As for what I want…”

Eluria stepped towards the map. “That is relatively simple as well.”

The guards moved out of her way with a tiny wave from Ghenadie. Eluria stared at the map, her finger tracing a line along the map. Sally could just see over the table; Eluria’s fingers stopped just before a mountain range.

“This city needs to be destroyed.”

Ghenadie leant close, keeping an eye towards the Strega Witch. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try using your magic on me.”

Eluria shrugged. “If you couldn’t resist that then there’s no point in even speaking with you.”

Though Eluria had only been here a few moments Sally could feel the arrogance seeping through her every word.

“Yes.” Ghenadie nodded. “Atros. We know of it. The only city in the Kar Kingdom that survived. What of it?”

“Why is it still standing?”

“We know they have significant defences as well as a few powerful mages.” Ghenadie tapped the map. “We could destroy it but we didn’t have the numbers then. We do now. We will destroy it, but not yet.”

Ghenadie waved out the window. “Our numbers have only just started to reach an explosive number…Even without humans.”

“It’s a city of two, maybe three thousand.” Eluria frowned lightly. “If you’re afraid to take one tiny town how do you expect to overthrow a kingdom?”

“Why do you want these people dead?” Ghenadie asked softly. “What have they done? Why do you want us to do it for you? Is such a small city really a threat to you?”

Eluria gently shook her hand. “There, there is a reason why I cannot attack the city. If I wanted to I could destroy it. But…I cannot. However, if you were too then there’s no problem.”

Ghenadie continued to look unimpressed.

“They…” Eluria ground her teeth. “They took something, someone, from me. And I could do nothing but sit still and smile sweetly. Sweetly as they barely said a word for her…”

“Revenge is a simple motivation,” Ghenadie said. “But it seems a little simple for a Strega Witch.”

“Do you really care?” Eluria smiled.

Ghenadie shared a glance with the others present. “No. I suppose not. So, Strega Witch, how can you help us?”

“Information, to start.” Eluria tapped the map, pointing angrily at where Sally believed Atros lay. “Do you want to know what’s happening there? They haven’t exactly been idle.”

“How much does this information cost?”

“Nothing.” Eluria smiled. “I told you, I want revenge.”

“Go on then.”

“Atros has grown more than the three thousand you once knew. Now six or seven thousand live there; humans, Dark Elves, Dwarves and Beast-kin.”

Ghenadie raised a brow. “That’s an odd mixture.”

“Somehow they’re staying together.” Eluria shrugged. “But they are growing and fast. Given a few winters they might be unassailable for even you.” Eluria looked out the window. “Even with all these…Things.”

“They will be destroyed in the spring,” Ghenadie said gruffly. “The Goblins do operate well in the snow. They refuse to obey even our orders, rather they seek out some shelter to avoid the snows. We’ll probably lose ten to twenty percent…They’re already starting to act rebelliously.”

“By the time the snows pass it will be too late.” Eluria ground her teeth again. “Are, are you hard of hearing?”

“A little.” Ghenadie shrugged. “But there is nothing I can do. But, if you cannot help us further I’m going to have to ask for you to leave.”

Ghenadie gripped the strange metal amulet tight. Eluria paid it nothing more than a single glance.

“You are having trouble in The Shadow Isles, yes?”

Ghenadie frowned. “How…I suppose I should expect you to already know about that.”

“I can help there.” Eluria chuckled. “Help you collect more of your Ancient Essence.”

The amulet glowed in Ghenadie’s hands. “You shouldn’t know about that.”

Eluria laughed, Ghenadie finally shrugged and looked to the map. “So…You know about that too. So, again I ask, what can you do to help us?”

“Two things.”

Eluria opened her cloak. The guards readied their weapons when she reached in deep. “Relax everyone. I’m not going to do anything bad.”

“You destroyed the barrier,” Ghenadie said dryly.

Eluria held back the desire to scoff and roll her eyes. She produced a small scroll of paper and small square leather bag.

“A map of all known locations of Ancient Essence.” Eluria delicately placed the bag down and unfurled the paper. “Even ones that you don’t know.”

Eluria’s arm obscured the map but Sally caught a glimpse, a glimpse of blue, of the seas. It was a map of the entire world.

“How did you come across this?” Ghenadie kept one eye towards Eluria as he took the map. “We’ve been searching for generations for scraps and the tiniest hints of where they lay.”

“The United Empire did a very good job of unearthing their locations.” Eluria smiled. “It’s just that not everyone agreed with finding such a potent and dangerous thing.”

“But where?”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you.” Eluria shrugged. “It’s not like you’d ever reach it. I found in the deepest part of the Eldfjall Trelleborg library. Nearly cost my life but…you don’t care about that.”

“Most of these have been destroyed,” Ghenadie grumbled. “Not that you’d know that.”

“I know more than you think. I know that one of the sites in the Frindal Emirate still exists. The fools think it’s some sort of sacred relic.”

“It is a sacred relic.” Ghenadie angrily spat out. “More so than you know.”

Eluria shrugged. “So there’s another source, unless you have enough to get by.”

Ghenadie grumbled. He glanced at Mihal, clicked his tongue and tapped the table. “No. Not yet.”

Eluria looked at Mihal then to Sally with a questioning gaze. Whatever thoughts raced through her mind they were quickly discarded.

“But thank you, Eluria.” Ghenadie smiled. “This alone is incredibly helpful. Do you require shelter or resources? We can provide both…In a limited fashion.”

Eluria laughed. “No thank you. I…I don’t want anything tainted by the grotty little hands of a Goblin.”

“What’s the second thing?” Mihal asked.

Eluria’s gaze truly fell upon the young boy. He had lost his sense of bravery, already having fallen back into his curious gaze.

“Child, do you have any idea what’s happening to your body?”

Mihal titled his head.

Eluria chuckled and shook her head. “It is not my problem. You butcher and carve through your children…” Eluria coughed lightly. “Forgive me.”

Ghenadie frowned at Eluria. “So what is it?”

“Something else I found in the library.” Eluria tapped the leather box. "This...This will help you on The Shadow Isles."

Eluria tapped the top again. "You've suffered setback after setback in those misty lands. And now it's even worse with the Dark Elves united against you. Yes?"

"We were told they were fractured," Ghenadie grumbled. "It appears they are anything but."

Eluria blinked, her red brows furrowed lightly before it faded away.

"That may be. But, what you really need now are numbers. Your Goblins don't really have much else going for them."

"They are adequate servants," Ghenadie spoke defiantly. "And we don't have access to any of the others. Even the Ghlotsm refuse our call. Not for long though."

Sally didn't miss the flicker towards Mihal's chest.

"Until then you are stuck with these little creatures. And there are only so many humans that you can kidnap before everyone comes down on you. Graterious has some...Interesting mages. More than capable of destroying you. Not to mention the Knights of Qaiviel. Unless you planned to buy them from Seocuria? The Goblins don't care what womb they plant themselves in."

The silver mine! But...I don't know what's in Seocuria. Where's that?

Sally broke out of her mental musings, Eluria stared deep into her eyes. Sally's body tensed, her hands gripping tight into fists.

"Ah." Something flashed over Eluria’s face. "There was one amongst those disgusting miscreants. I wonder..."

"The box?" Ghenadie asked, his voice conveying his annoyance.

"Since you only have access to goblins, and they had difficulty breeding with one another...Well, the answer is simple, isn't it?"

Eluria flipped open the bag. Inside lay dozens of small glass vials filled with a black and white liquid. The stripes twisted and swirled through each other, as if they were alive, but never fully mixed.

"How much do you know about the end of the United Empire?" Eluria held a vial tight in her hands.

"Little," Ghenadie admitted. "Its fate, other than it's gone, means little to us."

"Perhaps you should learn more about history." Eluria chuckled. "Near the end, the United Empire was desperate for manpower. Enemies beset them from within and without. So, they turned to the unthinkable." Eluria waved to the window and the fields of Goblins below. "They tried what you did, but with much less success. Although a lot of what you do is based on their work."

"It took us generations to create these." Ghenadie held the small talisman that everyone, bar Sally, held. "This is our creation, not theirs."

"Of course." Eluria smiled. "But the United Empire needed tests subjects. And they made this."

Eluria removed the lid. Immediately her nose was assaulted by an acrid and burning smell.

“What is that?” Mihal covered his nose with both hands. The others were slightly distressed but didn’t take their eyes of Eluria.

“It’s difficult to explain. Probably too difficult, especially if you don’t have a few days spare, but this mixture, The Rupturing Kiss, will make a female Goblin produce ten times as many babies and guarantees pregnancy. I believe that makes it forty to fifty per female Goblin.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I haven’t tested it.” Eluria fastened the top and passed it to Ghenadie. “But I think you should try it. After all, you’re the people interested in these little creatures.”

Ghenadie took the vial and held it close to his eyes. “I can’t tell what it is…How did you make this?”

Eluria winked, again it felt extremely forced. “That’s my secret. If I tell you then there’s no reason for you to keep me, no?”

“Indeed. We will need to see if this works before we go any further.”

“Not like you have to go far to find a Goblin.” Eluria laughed.

“They aren’t allowed inside the central castle anymore,” Ghenadie said softly.

“I thought I felt something different.” Eluria smiled. “What is your little cult planning?”

“Exactly why I don’t trust you.” Ghenadie pursed his lips. “But we will see if this works. If it does, then we can discuss things further. Regardless, we aren’t going to be attacking Atros before spring. It is simply not an option. I’m surprised the snows haven’t started to fall. And if we lose control of them during the march…”

“You’ll regret not attacking them now.” Eluria folded her arms. “They will only grow stronger.”

Ghenadie smiled. “But if your potions work then we won’t have to worry about that, now will we?”

Eluria nodded once. “If the writings are true you might want to space them out when you give this to them.”

“What?”

“Leave about five or so feet between each female. Oh, and you’ll lose the male too. But that’s not a problem.”

What are they going to do to them? Do…Do I actually feel sorry for the Goblins?

“We’ll take as many as you can give. Our forces in The Shadow Isles will appreciate this.”

Ghenadie waved Eluria to the map, the guards lowered their spears while Mihal stamped his feet in happiness.

“We’re doing it,” Mihal whispered. “We’re actually doing it!”

“Why are you so happy?” Sally asked in a harsh whisper. “Do you know what she’s doing? Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yep.” Mihal smiled. “Grandad said that we’re going to do great things. We’re going to bring back the true gods and save this world and everyone on it. How is that not a good thing?”

Mihal looked to the ceiling, ignoring Sally. “I wonder what he really looks like.”

Chapter 158 - Vol 4 - Storm Strider's Treasures

Chapter 158:

With the Mainland and Island Clans working together the Dark Elves continued to make great strides in retaking their lands. Despite several large counter-attacks they continued to push forward, with Anton and Kal using delayed healing prayers on the most gravely wounded, until they reached the land bridges to the over-run islands. However such a momentous occasion was overshadowed by knowledge they were approaching the Storm Striders island, where many Dark Elf artefacts lay protected, and where they suspected some Strega Witches, not aligned with Ferula, were heading for some nefarious purpose. Gerin did not take much convincing to change his focus from the Green Moon island to the Storm Striders.

After arriving on the island, and repairing the destroyed land bridge, a local Dark Elf, travelling with the main force, was brought with them to act as a guide. It did not take long before Anton found himself confused and concerned.

He found himself staring at something that shouldn’t exist in this world, yet it clearly did. Anton’s mind tingled, not from magic or from the charge but from memory. A memory of Earth. A small dirt pathway, leading away from the still infested cities, was flanked with giant red Shinto style archways. Large brass bells, intricately detailed metalwork with dull red tassels hanging from below, faded with age and exposure, swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze. A tiny chorus of ringing bells broke the otherwise silent forest.

“Something wrong?” Verona asked gently.

Some of their Dark Elf escorts drew their bows, aiming into the darkness. Tuccac led the majority of the forces assaulting the Storm Strider Island while Anton took a sizeable detachment with him. More than enough to deal with any Goblin threat.

But against a Strega Witch? That Necromancer didn’t look weak, he had a small army at his side and it was still useless in a fight against Ferula…

“Maybe we should just burn the forest down.” Anton mused. Verona tapped his side. “Sorry. These things.” Anton tapped the upright beams. “These look nearly identical to something from my world. But… This is something different.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Verona glanced at Kal and Cetina. Neither had any idea either.

“The Sand Timer is useful. It had a reason to recreate. But these…” Anton counted thirty Shinto Archways, probably more around the bend obscured by the thick shrubs and trees. “These have no purpose beyond…Well, culture. I don’t feel anything magical coming from them. Though I could be wrong.”

“If they were part of the defences they’d be closer to the artefacts.” Kal looked into the forest. “They aren’t in there…”

“Where is that Dark Elf?” Anton asked aloud.

A single man was pushed through to the front. He appeared extremely nervous to come face to face with Anton. He didn’t think he was menacing or intimidating, in the slightest really, but they had all borne witness to his magic.

“Lord Anton.” The Dark Elf bowed.

“What are these things?”

“Ah. They’re called Torii.” The Dark Elf smiled, a fond memory surfaced in his mind. “They’re used to ward off evil spirits.”

I don’t know what they were used for in Japan so I’m going to have to just go with it.

“Are ghosts real?” Verona asked.

“We’ve seen zombies and ghouls,” Cetina said quietly.

“My question is if they are magical,” Anton asked the Dark Elf. “I don’t intend to damage or interfere with them but I need to know.”

“I…I don’t believe so. The bells have some sort of warding on them but the main archway, no.”

“Keep advancing,” Anton ordered. “But be careful not to touch the Torii. But if you need them to shield yourself don’t hesitate.”

The Dark Elf looked a little distressed but he understood the reality of the situation.

“Just keep your wits about you, everyone.” The Dark Elves ensured their weapons were ready. “If there are Strega Witches here you’ll only have one shot. Probably not even that.”

Anton summoned a small Lightning Crow to scout their destination. It didn’t appear to find anything, strange in a place still crawling with Goblins, Goblins whose corpses seemingly covered the main roads but were absent from this area. He kept it circling above as they carefully advanced up the small dirt pathway.

At the end of the dirt pathway, after passing through easily forty Torii’s, the castle holding the artefacts emerged through the forest; a large squat octagonal building. It looked far more like the normal Dark Elf buildings rather than the Green Moon or Mist Walker fortresses. Outside of the castle walls lay the corpses of Dark Elf defenders, some slumped over the walls. These had been dead for some time, the smell nauseating. There was no way to tell if any were women though it was difficult to say which fate was worse. The gate was left ajar, a corpse lay in the gap preventing it from being closed.

“The artefacts are inside the castle.” The Dark Elf said. “Down below, I think.”

“You’ve never been here?”

“No. My father worked here, so he told me a little about it.”

Strega magic perhaps…

Anton held the man’s shoulder and searched through his body for any hint of the green smoke. When he found nothing he relinquished his hold, convinced that they weren’t being led into a trap.

“What was that for?”

“Don’t worry.” Anton smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t being used.”

The Dark Elf looked very confused but didn’t press the issue.

What concerned Anton the most wasn’t the dead bodies, they would be buried later, but the lack of Goblins. The castle was still and silent baring the gentle gongs of the large brass bells. A large red circular ward drew his attention, one nearly identical to the markings found at Balefire Mine. Anton touched them with a stick. Tiny green sparks, evaporating into smoke, flew into the air. The stick grew hot and began to smoulder after only touching for a second.

“These are much better than the one’s Ferula made for Balefire.” Anton mused as he ordered the Dark Elves to move in through the open gate. “So why didn’t she make it like this?”

“She did say it was old,” Verona said softly. “Maybe it just…ran out? Maybe they need to repaint it every few days or something.”

“It didn’t stop the Ghlotsm,” Kal said dryly.

Anton looked down to the Dark Elf corpses. “Didn’t save these poor souls.”

The interior of the castle temple was unusually open and spacious. Once inside the wall only one building appeared of any significance, smaller buildings scattered the area but these were bunkhouses and kitchens, thoroughly abandoned and ruined by a Goblin attack. On the far side of the castle stood the temple building, its peak rising above the wall. Cetina grunted and moved in front, her shield raised high.

“They’re still alive!” A Dark Elf yelled. He tried to break into a run but the others grabbed and held him back.

Standing before the entrance was a line of Dark Elf warriors. Their eyes glowed green, faint wisps of green smoke leaked from their decayed and missing limbs.

Cetina ground her teeth. “I was hoping it was those other humans…Not these things.”

Anton squeezed Cetina’s shoulder. It took her a moment to relax. Even though they were clearly visible the corrupted Dark Elves didn’t move nor raise their weapons. Those with both arms held Dark Elf bows, knocked but not drawn. They weren’t going to fight. At least not yet.

The last bunch of Strega…Dolls, acted like they were independent of their creator’s will, semi-autonomous. But Eluria and Sancha knew they were under attack…

“Let’s see what they have to say,” Anton said softly. “Stay behind Cetina you two.”

Slowly they approached the line of corrupted Dark Elves, Anton ordered small groups of their Dark Elves to scout the rest of the fort. They found nothing as they stopped a few meters before the line. One corrupted Dark Elf, more intact than the others, stepped forward.

“You cannot enter here.” It spoke with a rasp, light puffs of green smoke punctuated every word. Cetina was utterly furious but held her ground.

“Why not?” Anton asked.

“You would disturb a dangerous ritual of unbinding.” The Dark Elf stopped and continued to stare blankly at Anton.

“At least it says more than no this time.” Anton mused. “So where is your master?”

No response was given.

“Well, we can’t just let you do whatever it is you’re doing. Your kind has done a lot of damage to one of my friends. So, are you going to let us pass?”

“No.” The reply was stern. “We will hold you back until our masters are finished.”

They didn’t move for their weapons, though it was hard to tell if a shambling corpse was readying themselves for a fight.

“We really need to get through,” Anton said. “Unless you want to deal with Ferula.”

The corpses remained unmoving for a moment before stepping aside, except for the lead.

“We are waiting below. Take your immediate friends, the rest will wait here.” The corpse raised his hand. “Attacking us is tantamount to declaring war on the Strega Witches. And Atros cannot hold against them.”

Anton’s blood ran cold for a second. “Am I speaking to a corpse or an actual Strega Witch?”

The lead corpse stepped aside and motioned for them to enter.

“Any ideas?” Anton asked through the ring. “Do we just walk into this trap? If it’s a trap at all.”

“We can wait here,” Verona said. “But then they’ll have finished whatever it is they’re doing. But if we fight them Atros will fall, quickly too.”

“Ferula could move incredibly quickly across the world.” Kal pursed her lips. “Even if we went back to Atros straight away they could still destroy it…And us. I think we should hear what they have to say at least.”

Cetina said nothing, he could feel the anger bursting through her skin.

“We can’t let Atros fall.” Anton held her shoulder. “We simply don’t have the strength to fight them.”

“Not yet at least. Besides, we don’t know how Eluria fits into this. If they’ve thrown her away then we don’t have too much to worry about them.”

“Fine.” Cetina ground her teeth. “Just tell me if you want to fight.”

Anton patted her shoulder again and summoned a few large Fire Imps.

“Back away from these guys,” Anton said. “But don’t hesitate to defend yourselves if they attack.”

“We will not attack unless you do.” The corpse grumbled.

“We’ll see.”

The stone pathway down was rough and slightly uneven. Though this place was supposed to hold powerful artefacts, the number of people coming down this far would be very few. The main pathway began to branch off, each leading to a small cavern. Anton peered inside. It appeared to be a tomb of some kind; a large stone coffin lay in the middle surrounded by an intricate black and purple circle etched into the stone. Around that lay more strange items; swords, amulets and locked boxes also surrounded by the circles, all connected to one another.

Anton found a small stone and tossed it towards the circle. It exploded in a shower of purple sparks.

“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” Anton said quietly. “I just needed to know.”

Verona beckoned them forward. The pathway continued for some time, Anton counted over a hundred pathways leading to small caverns, some branched further beyond his sight. Though it was possibly disrespectful to the dead some of the artefacts might be useful. Convincing the Dark Elves to let them take them would be difficult. He had already annoyed the Dark Elves enough.

Finally, a flickering light illuminated the end of the pathway as it flattened out into a massive chamber. Two large stone tombs lay in the centre, with ten concentric circles etched into the ground surrounding both. Two hooded people stood before the last of the circles. It was impossible to see what they were, their thick cloaks covered all of their features except for their hands. One was light-skinned, like Anton and Verona, while the other was darker like Cetina’s. Their hands touched the purple shield, sparks erupted and shot in all directions but left no burns or wounds. The darker one leant down and dipped their hands into a small bucket. A thin oil-drenched their skin. They began drawing a shape on the purple shield with the oil, the oil sparked on contact but remained in the air.

“They’re here.” The darker-skinned person spoke, his voice deep and grumbling.

“And I’d thought we’d be done.” The other was a woman with a sweet and bubbly voice. “I thought we’d have an easy time, unlike with the Stone Men. Damn things.”

The woman turned around while the other continued to work. She was pretty, very pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair, a small button nose and deep brown eyes.

“Hello.” The woman bowed deeply. “My name is Pearl. And this is Nikitas.”

Nikitas grunted and continued applying more oil to the shield.

“This…” Pearl smiled bitterly. “This is an awkward time and place to meet.”

“Indeed.” Anton moved the fire imps in front of them. “Especially in a land overrun with Goblins…Though I don’t think you’re to blame for that…What are you doing?”

“I’m almost done,” Nikitas said softly.

Pearl nodded, turned to Anton and chuckled. “It would take too long to explain what we’re doing here-”

“Then why not just stop doing what you’re doing and talk.” Anton folded his arms, forming magic inside his mind. “We’ve got some time. The Shadow Isles are almost safe now.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Nikitas grumbled, stepping back from the shield. “No one will be.”

“Has this got something-”

No. Better not let them know that we know of the fragments, we don’t know what Ferula’s told them, if anything. I’m sure they’d go to war if they knew we had one of the stones.

“To do with what Eluria wanted with Duran?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Pearl smiled sweetly. “Sorry. But Morgan would kill me if I did.”

“Who?” Verona asked.

Pearl scrunched her eyes. “Our leader…Now. What do you want with us? We’ll be gone very, very soon, if you’ll just let us finish in peace.”

“So what are you doing to that?” Anton asked. “I presume that’s the whale oil, the whale that you lured to the coast and then allowed to rot?”

“And killed a lot of creatures in the process,” Kal added.

“I…We had no choice but to harvest it.” Pearl looked to the shield. “Otherwise we could have been here for days trying to break through. The Dark Elves made these barriers extremely strong.”

“Probably so something wouldn’t get out,” Verona said. “Do you think that’s the reason?”

Pearl laughed. “Sometimes. It really depends…But with this, it’s clear they didn’t want anyone to get in, not the other way around.”

“Is there anything we can do to convince you to stop?” Anton asked.

“No,” Nikitas growled. “You heard the Doll’s, correct? You won’t win against us, but even if you did your city will be destroyed. It’s better just to walk away.”

It might very well be. We have one fragment, and they need all of them…

“You must understand that your presence, along with our…past interactions with Eluria and Sancha has tainted our impression of Strega Witches.”

Cetina ground her teeth.

Pearl bowed her head. “And for that, we are truly sorry. We try not to affect anyone we don’t have to if we can help it.”

Like Lord Cassius?

“But we cannot stop here.” Pearl breathed deep. “Much more weighs on us than a few innocent Bebbezarians.”

“We did beat those two Strega Witches,” Verona said proudly.

Pearl’s eyebrow twitched violently. “I wouldn’t get so conceited, little one. You weren’t fighting them at their strongest, and they wanted to escape. We are neither…I doubt you’d last longer than a few breaths.”

Anton kept his body still.

That was certainly a change. Not a fan that someone got taken down so easily? Ferula said Strega Witches aren’t designed for front-line combat, preferring subterfuge and trickery to win.

“Well…” Verona scratched her head. “That’s different.”

Pearl calmed herself. Nikitas stepped back as the last shield exploded in a shower of purple sparks. Some struck Pearl’s back, she yelped in pain but didn’t flinch. Nikitas approached the stone coffin, pushed the lid off with one mighty heave, and rummaged about inside.

“Not this one.”

“Are you seriously going to defile the dead like that?” Anton asked.

“If we don’t find it we will all soon join them.” Pearl smiled. “And I don’t, and neither do you, want to join them just yet.”

Nikitas pushed the other stone lid aside. Though they were supposedly just witches the stone lids were thick and made from solid stone. Nikitas was no weakling.

“Finally.” Nikitas smiled as he pulled a small stone out of the coffin. It looked identical to Cetina’s fragment, except he wasn’t affected by it.

“No one say its name. They can’t know that we know what it looks like.”

“All this for that?” Verona asked. “A little stone? You can find those just about anywhere.”

“Cute.” Pearl laughed. “You’re very cute.”

She hesitatingly stepped over the tenth ring to Nikitas side. “Is it real?”

“Very real.” Nikitas smiled. “We have what we need.”

“But you can’t just leave like that,” Anton said. “Ferula said that you can teleport away but you can only take your clothes with you…So how do you intend to get out of here?”

“That is our problem.” Pearl winked at Anton. “But you all do seem cute. It’d be a shame if something happened to you all.”

“Is that a threat?” Cetina growled.

Pearl frantically waved her hand. “No! Absolutely not. Just know that when we’re done that everyone will be safe. If we don’t we all might as well kill ourselves right now.”

“I’m sure the Dark Elves are totally fine with you pillaging their tombs while they were fighting the Goblins.” Anton folded his arms. “So their lives don’t mean much to you, do they?”

“If we don’t stop them there won’t be anything alive in this world.” Pearl looked to the ceiling. “Nothing that we would call alive…”

“Time to go,” Nikitas grumbled.

“Right.” Pearl clapped her hands. “So, will you let us go? We haven’t done anything to you or the Dark Elves above…So, how about we all just leave in peace? No one has attacked one another yet. Let’s all just go home and pretend this never happened. Okay? I know I will.”

“With your strange little rock?” Verona asked.

Pearl smiled. “With our little strange rock.”

Anton rubbed his beard. He gently held Cetina’s and Kal’s shoulders, pulling them to the side. “We can’t afford to fight, I don’t think you want to take the chance either.”

“Thank you, Anton.” Pearl breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Eluria was wrong. You aren’t some fool. Well…Time will tell. We’ve only just met after all.”

“And I hope it’s the last time too.” Anton readied to create a Lightning Octahedron.

“I hope so too.” Pearl flashed a smile. “Once we’re finished we’ll stop by Atros, have a good time. I’m sure you’ll have some sexy young men in Atros by then for me to play with.”

Pearl and Nikitas hurriedly walked to the staircase, both sides keeping a firm on each other for any sign of hostility. When they began the ascent Pearl gave a final wave.

“We’ll release the Dark Elves as soon as we’re free,” Pearl shouted down. “They’ll be near the coast, if you want to bury them.”

Anton moved to the base and watched them walk up into the distant light.

Kal grumbled and ruffled her hair. “So powerless. We might have been able to kill them…But it wouldn’t have mattered. There are a lot more of them than there are of us.”

“Fucking witches.” Cetina bounced the bottom of her shield against the stone ground. “Fucking arrogant witch bitches, just like Eluria and Sancha.”

“I thought they were about to attack me before.” Verona laughed, summoning her blood shards. “She didn’t seem to like Eluria.”

“Not at all.” Anton mused. “Do you think we should head back up or have a look at the tomb?”

Verona pushed a blood shard over the concentric circles. They remained dead and lifeless.

“One quick peek.” Verona winked. “Maybe they missed something, something that’ll help us.” She looked up the passageway. “Perhaps an artefact that could help us. You never know.”

“I don’t think we should take anything,” Kal said quietly. “Not unless you want to be shot by the Dark Elves.”

“Let’s be quick. I don’t trust those Strega Witches.”

“We’ve still got the portal stones in case something goes wrong.” Kal tapped a bag on Cetina’s back. “I’ll set them up now, just in case.”

Anton hesitantly took the first step over the purple etchings. He felt nothing even as his boot touched the ground, nor any of the rings. The two had left the bucket of oil behind. It had a faint aroma of something sweet, something earthy but overwhelmingly the smell of fish and fat. Anton decided to keep the bucket, there wasn’t any hint of Strega Magic within, and ask one of the resident Principle Mages if it was any use.

Verona peered inside the first tomb. She tilted her head, letting out a cute squeak in surprise.

Inside the tomb lay the skeletal remains of a person; human or Dark Elf he couldn’t be sure, tattered remains of clothes had all but disintegrated, the tiny fragments draped over the dusty bones. However, it was arranged like a knight; both hands crossed over their chest while holding a sword. Nikitas’ handprint was clear on the dust covering his collapsed rib cage, where he had pushed down to rip something from a short brown tassel on the end of the sword. While the person’s body hadn’t transformed, like Anton’s had upon touching the stone, the sword itself drew his attention. The sword was slightly curved and sheathed in an old leather cover, leather so old it had cracked and disintegrated from Nikitas touch.

“You-You recognise this?” Verona asked.

“Maybe.” Anton tapped the edge of the tomb. “Sorry, whoever you are. But I need to borrow this for a moment.”

Anton reached in and retrieved the sword. The rigid leather sheath disintegrated further as he touched it. He chanted a prayer to restore it, the leather grew darker and reformed. There wasn’t much in the way of identifying markings on it. The sword’s handle didn’t have many markers or symbols either. Anton pulled the sword free. It had rusted heavily but his mind knew exactly what it was.

A katana.

“Not exactly.” Anton held the blade close to his face. “It’s a little short. Not that I’ve seen a real one before. A soldier perhaps…What was Japan doing during the First World War? Maybe one used during the Second World War?”

“Words.” Verona poked his side. “Please use words. We can’t read your thoughts, and it’s never a good sign when you make that sort of face.”

“I’ll explain up top.” Anton looked to the pathway up.

“What’s in the second one?”

The second tomb held another person arranged like a knight. The clothes were different but still lacked any defining features. This skeleton didn’t hold a blade but their hands were clasped together. The clasped hands covered a piece of white cloth, stained with dust and ruined by age, but something still remained. Anton leant in, apologising to the corpse, and moved a hand. A small red cross lay inside, a red cross surrounded by white. Only then did Anton realise the clothes were actually a dress; the hemline ended halfway down their shins forming a line across the bones. The head, nothing but a dusty skull, rested on the remains of a white cloth knotted into a cap.

“Again.” Verona quickly tempered her voice as she held his hand. “This is doing something to you, isn’t it? It’s not that tail thing…”

Anton blinked to focus himself. “No. It’s not.”

Verona took Anton’s side and refused to let go. Anton’s head was still disrupted as he reached the top and back into the fresh air. The corrupted Dark Elves were gone, the still living Dark Elves waited in their positions ready to strike. They were clearly rattled by something, not that it was too hard to guess what.

“Have they gone?”

“They have.” The Storm Strider Dark Elf ran towards him. “Two humans emerged, they said that you made some sort of agreement, and took those glowing Dark Elves with them.” He pointed to the north. “They took them that way. Do you want us to follow them?”

“No. They aren’t a threat.”

More that we shouldn’t anger them, because we’ll lose.

“They looked pretty dangerous…What’s that?”

“This?” Anton raised the short Katana. “Those two looted a tomb in the bottom of the castle. They stole something, I don’t know what it was, but it was attached to this.”

The Dark Elf hesitantly touched the blade. “This…This is a sacred relic from the founding days of The Shadow Isles, when the Dark Elves were still bands of warring tribes.”

“The founding days…” Anton nodded. “We’ll return this to a leader of the Storm Strider Clan. Maybe it’ll raise their spirits to know their artefacts survived.”

“Not just put it back now?” Verona asked.

Anton shook his head. He pointed to the opened gate. The doors were now fully open, a small horde of Goblins were approaching.

“How?” The Dark Elf readied his bow.

“Those witches removed the wards once they were done.” Anton smiled. “Well, they don’t think this war is theirs. At least they didn’t try to bury us alive.”

Anton looked to the large Fire Imps. “Kill all the Goblins in range.”

The fire imps leapt across the ground, throwing themselves into the approaching horde. The Goblins screamed as they were torn apart by the flaming blades and claws.

“We’re retreating to the land bridge,” Anton said. “After that you’ll be sent to other units.”

“Why aren’t we going after those two?” The Dark Elf demanded, walking in front as his eyes flicked to the sword. “They broke through all those barriers and pillaged our artefacts! They must be punished.”

Anton patted his shoulder. “The Goblins are the ones destroying your homes, not them. But do not worry. They will get their comeuppance, one day.”

He didn’t like the response but accepted it all the same as Anton summoned more Lightning Crows and directed them to clear a path.

---[]---

The Storm Strider side of the land bridge had already been transformed into a small fortress, more a hidden encampment. Dozens of Goblins corpses littered the ground, a few Dark Elves moved about while they recovered the arrows. Unfortunately, the land bridge had submerged underneath the rising sea. On the other side, Anton could see the camp continuing to grow. It wouldn’t be long before the island was back under their control.

“Want to tell us what that’s all about?” Verona asked softly.

Anton nodded. “As soon as we get these guys back into the fight.”

Anton found a local commander, about to order a group of reinforcements to the front, and assigned him their escorts. The Storm Strider Dark Elf was still hesitant to let the blade go from his sight. The moment Anton asked for a secured tent he received it. It was quite large, one that was going to be a supply tent, and most importantly relatively soundproof, so long as they kept their voices low.

“I don’t remember anything about something like this,” Verona said as she sat on a supply crate. Anton sat next to her, Kal on the other. Cetina sat opposite, her sword resting across her lap. Her metal boot tapped uncontrollably on the grass.

“Cetina? How are you holding up?”

Cetina stopped bouncing her leg and smiled. “At least you didn’t ask if I was okay. I can’t believe we just let two Strega Witches walk away, with one of those stones.”

“Ferula said they need all twenty. And we have one locked away where even Eluria and Sancha, despite being next to the damn thing for ages, couldn’t find it.”

Cetina slowly nodded. “I suppose.”

“What was any of that?” Verona asked. She glanced at the other two girls. “I know they want an answer just as much as I do, it’s just that I’m going to be the loud one to say it.”

Anton tapped the sword. “In my world, before I was born, there was a war. A war the size and scale no one had ever seen before. This sword, if I’m right, came from Japan…Or was it the Empire of Japan? I’m not entirely sure which era it came from but I have a good idea. And I believe they had swords like this during their war.”

“What are you talking about?” Cetina asked softly. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain a bit more about my world’s history one night-”

“I love those stories.” Verona smiled, bouncing from side to side. “Always so interesting.”

Kal raised her hand. “But that war, on Earth, happened relatively recently for you. But the Dark Elves were conquered by the United Empire long before that. So…How?”

Anton shrugged. “Time is a strange thing. Especially when you’re travelling between worlds and realities, not that I know what’s meant to be normal. Who’s to say he didn’t get thrown five or ten thousand years before I did?”

Verona clapped her hands. “Right. So a soldier from your world comes here, unites the Dark Elf tribes and dies. They worship him as a great leader and bury him with his weapon-”

“And a fragment.” Cetina quietly added.

“Which explains why this world’s writing is so similar.” Anton held his chin. “And the other tomb was of a woman. A nurse…I think a British nurse.”

“But.” Kal rubbed her brow again. “I remember you saying they were on opposite sides.”

Anton nodded. “They were. But if she’s a British nurse it explains why we all speak the same language…Not entirely though. It should have changed over time.” Anton shrugged. “But I’m glad it didn’t. It would have made it almost impossible for me to talk with you when I arrived in Atros. We might not even be alive.”

“But the soldier speaks and write another language to the nurse so why have one of each and not just pick one…” Kal groaned. “I’m trying to work this out and it’s a little confusing.”

“I’ve just given up.” Verona chuckled.

“And then the language spread from The Shadow Isles after the United Empire captured it.” Kal titled her head. “That’s a strange thing to do.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Cetina asked.

“It should…There’s bound to be a good reason. Maybe there were a thousand languages on the mainland, each from a proud nation, and to unite them they picked a foreign language, so they wouldn’t be forced to learn their enemies’ language. A single unifying language which slowly eroded the others, since they no longer had any use outside of their individual clans. Maybe…” Anton tapped the sword. “How did you end up here? How did both of you at the same time? There was one place where you could have met, I think it was the Battle of Singapore, but you’d both have to have died to be brought here…An unlucky shell hit you both?”

“Sea shell?” Verona asked, tilting her head.

“No. But I know you’re going to love it when you see them for real…Wait.” Anton snapped his fingers. “If he was a soldier then he should have had a gun. A rifle. Or even a pistol, not just a sword. If it brought this, I brought my clothes with me, then it should exist here too somewhere.”

“If you had one of those guns them I’m sure the Dwarves could easily make one.” Kal smiled.

“But we didn’t see one in the tombs.” Verona folded her arms in deep thought. “Where would they keep something like that?”

“What’s a gun?” Cetina asked, the current line of conversation was flying right over her head.

“I’ll explain later.” Anton turned back towards the centre of the mainland. “The Mist Walkers were supposed to have a whole bunch of relics too…What could be more powerful than a non-magical wood and metal stick that could kill people with sound?” Anton chuckled. “Leave the Storm Striders to have a simple sword while they take the magical weapon, a weapon that would soon stop working. Especially when they ran out of ammunition. Not that they would know that.”

“Is that our next destination?” Verona asked. “I mean, how much more can we annoy the Dark Elves?”

Kal chuckled. “You seem rather happy with that idea.”

Anton gently nodded. “Even if we don’t get any Dark Elves to settle in Atros, we get those weapons and this whole thing would have been worth it. Everything. Both wars. And even this damn tail.”

Anton bit onto his fingernails. “We might actually be able to fight against the Demons. If only they’re to be kind enough to wait for us to be ready.”

Chapter 159 - Vol 4 - Diamonds in the rough

Chapter 159:

Anton stood before a massive metal door near the top of the Mist Walkers tower. A stooped elderly Dark Elf stood before the door, his wrinkled face drenched with worry.

“Are you sure about this, Lord Gerin? No human…Or Beast-kin has entered this sacred place in generations, well before the fall of the United Empire.”

“It’s fine.” Gerin glanced at Anton. “After everything they’ve done they’ve more than earned a look.”

Gerin didn’t want to explain that Anton intended to take an artefact, if it existed.

The old man sighed and opened the door, creaking and groaning as the rusted hinges began to move. A wave of stagnant and dusty air wafted out. Small white crystal lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating thirty glass cabinets. Anton immediately recognised the black and purple etchings covering the joins of the glass. Inside, laying on plush fabric were strange items that Anton didn’t understand.

“Please do not touch anything.” The elderly man led them through the chaotically arranged cabinets. “These are some of our most sacred and important relics, some dating back to the founding of The Shadow Isles.”

“Was that when the Dark Elves were a bunch of warring tribes?”

More so than they are now.

“Yes.” The old man frowned. “There are a few artefacts from that time.”

“Could you show them to me?”

He threw Gerin an odd look but led them through the cabinets. Anton saw items that were clearly of some historical significance; broken weapons, amulets, clothes, books and even a wooden crown adorned with black gems. While there were undoubtedly great stories behind each of the artefacts they weren’t what Anton was looking for.

“Do you have something like a long metal and wooden stick?” Aton guessed the size of a bolt action rifle. “About this long, this end is mostly metal and the other wood?”

The old man squinted at Anton. “We…We do have something like that.” He began hobbling towards the rear of the room. “This is something that we’ve had since the very beginning. A very powerful and ancient artefact, rivalling the most powerful magic.”

“Tell me about it.”

The old man appeared genuinely excited. There was probably little chance to talk over such artefacts, only those that would be trained to replace him, not an entirely sobering thought. He stopped before a large cabinet at the far side of the room. Anton’s heart nearly leapt from his chest in excitement. Resting in the cabinet was a rifle, though rusted and damaged from time, it was undeniably a bolt action rifle. The type, make, and model was completely unknown to Anton but that didn’t matter. Verona and Kal smiled at Anton’s obvious joy.

“This is Death Bringer.” The old man smiled at the gun, not truly understanding its significance.

The naming conventions of this place…

“It was able to kill anyone with but a simple pull of this piece of metal.” He pointed to the rusted trigger, the girls looked very closely. “No armour but a suit of Adamantium could stop it.”

“Bosciycium and Chelium?” Verona asked.

“Even those. Though I believe a Chelium plate was heavily damaged.”

“Is this it?” Kal asked Anton.

“Almost. Were there small metal cylinders with this? They were put into this to allow it to function.”

“There were…” The old man pointed to a small box near the end of the barrel. “But we only know of five.”

Indeed, five spent bullet casings lay inside. Though they were used they were more than enough for Anton. Especially with the Dwarves technical and metalworking abilities.

“I take it that once these five were used the…Death Bringer refused to function?”

“Indeed. We could not find any more metal cylinders and were unable to make any more. So the artefact is now inert until we can find more. Thought that has been some time.”

Only five bullets? Oh well, that doesn’t matter I suppose, not really. We can make more.

“This is utterly remarkable.” Anton smiled. “Truly. Just one last question. How did the United Empire not capture this? If I was an invading force I would want to know about such a powerful weapon, even if it doesn’t work anymore.”

“We hid our sacred items from the invaders.” The old man frowned deeply. “Once we were defeated they didn’t care about our history. They considered us weak and incorporated our people into their armies and empire. They just wanted our land and people for their wars.”

“You did an excellent job then.” Anton nodded. “But…I hate to say this, I need this artefact.”

“What?!” The old man nearly exploded with rage. “You think that anyone, let alone a human, would be allowed to touch these sacred relics, let alone take them who knows where?”

“Yes.” Anton looked to Gerin. “We need this. I am willing to disregard any money for our services and settlers from the DuskReavers, if that’s what you wish, to acquire this.”

Gerin sighed. “Is this going to be your last request?”

“Absolutely.”

Gerin sighed again. “Open it and give them the artefact.”

“Are you serious?” The old man huffed, folded his arms and stood in front of the cabinet. “You may be the leader of the armies but you do not have the authority to do this.”

He pointed a finger at Anton. “And don’t think you can just open the chest and take it. It’s protected by extremely powerful magic, ones that you cannot defeat. I will only open this at the Mist Walker Elders request.”

“Then we’ll get it.” Anton turned to Gerin. “I’m sure they’ll cooperate.”

---[]---

Anton stood outside the rudimentary prison in Atros, a roll of paper in one hand and Rasha standing beside him. She wore her armour, her halberd ready to fight, but there was a nervousness to her.

“They still in there?” Anton asked the guards.

“They’ve been very well behaved.” A guard, sitting on a crate next to the door nodded. “Though, though one time they did try and escape.”

“Not too hurt I suppose?”

“Umm…” The guard chuckled. “Not really. But they didn’t try after that.” He smiled and leant forward. “They aren’t exactly the fastest runners.”

“They are very old,” Anton said. “Open it up. I need to speak with them.”

The guard nodded and tapped on the door. A small piece of wood slid away, a pair of eyes peered out. They connected with Anton for a second before the gap closed, the door opened a moment later.

“I’ll need a little bit of time with them.” Anton motioned for Rasha to follow. “So, don’t do anything until we come out.”

“Yes…Yes.” The guard nodded. “I understand.”

“I need you to keep an eye on everyone and your wits about you.” Anton turned to the giant blue Minotaur. “Just in case they try something.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Anton. I’m your second bodyguard after all.” Rasha cracked a smile, though it faded once they entered the prison.

The guards inside left, leaving them alone with the Mist Walker Elders. They no longer had the air of superiority about them. Now they looked nothing more than sad, tired abused old men. Anton took no joy in forcing this upon them.

“Are they treating you well?” Anton asked.

The elders, those that were awake, looked to the leader. He still held an air of superiority though significantly diminished.

“Fuck you!” The elder spat out. “I don’t want to talk with someone that treats elders like this.”

“You have food, water and you’re not being beaten.” Anton looked at the still raw bruises. “Unless you try and escape.”

The Elder huffed and looked away.

Anton sighed and unfurled the paper. “I need you to sign this.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.” Anton rolled the paper back up. “And I’ll have Rasha break your arms until you do. I can just heal you over and over and over…”

Rasha took a deep breath and flexed her free hand.

“So which is it going to be?”

The Elder shook his head.

“Rasha?”

Rasha rested her halberd against the wall and advanced on the elder. He shied away, Rasha was truly a monster in comparison. She lifted the elder by his arm, nothing more than a small twig in her hands.

“Please do as he says,” Rasha said coldly. “I don’t want to do this…” Rasha gripped his arms hard. “But if Anton asks me to I will.”

The Elder shook his head.

“Please?” Anton pleaded. “I don’t want to have to order Rasha to do this. I don’t think I can use Tethra’s magic to force you to write your name on the paper…Actually, I probably can. But since we’re here…will you please?”

“After what you’ve done I-”

Rasha bared her teeth and pulled his arm back hard. Sounds of snapping bone filled the air. The Elder screamed, Rasha dropped him to the ground as he limped back to the others. They winced and shuffled away, curling themselves into balls and whimpering as the Elder’s arm flopped about, limp and bending in ways it never should.

“Pick him back up,” Anton said quietly.

Rasha grunted and lifted him by his good arm. He tried to thrash about but Rasha was simply too strong. Looking at the broken arm, hanging loose and flopping about with his twisting thrashing only made Anton even more glad that Rasha hadn’t attacked him in the bowels of The Snowberry.

Anton healed the Elders arm. It snapped back into position just before he began pounding Rasha’s chest but she ignored it.

“So,” Anton held up the piece of paper. “I’ll ask again. Will you sign this?”

“W-What is it?”

Anton smiled, checking the others weren’t about to try something. “You asked me why, not what. Anyway, it’s so that I can have an artefact of yours. What it is, is relatively unimportant for you in your condition.” Anton held the paper up high. “So will you sign? I’m not asking for the crown or the swords or whatever you have in your treasury. Just one thing, one that doesn’t even work anymore.”

“And you’ll let us go?” The elder appeared hopeful.

“I can’t do that. But I can promise you better conditions and food. Maybe some light.” Anton looked around. “There isn’t much in here, but I’m sure that someone from The Shadow Isles won’t have too much problem with that. So, will you sign?”

“Alright.” The Elder glared at Rasha. “So long as this beast releases me.”

Rasha grunted and dropped him, landing harshly on his rear.

“Don’t call her a beast like she’s some mindless brute.” Anton pushed Rasha’s arm down. He saw her eyebrow twitch, her fist tighten in anger. “She’s a Beast-kin and my friend. So don’t insult her again.”

Anton summoned a small fire bomb to punctuate the point. The Elder glumly nodded and cast his head down.

“Sign it.” Anton held the paper and a small dip pen to the elder.

The elder nodded and took the pen. Anton stepped back, just in case. As he rose up something moved out of the corner of his eye. An elder ran at him, a small blade held tight in their hands. Rasha dove in front, caught and wrapped her much larger hands around theirs, and threw him into the ground. The blade bounced harmlessly across the floor, nothing more than a sliver of metal. Rasha snarled, an enraged bull, and stomped on the Elders’ back. A sickening crack echoed through the air as Rasha stomped on his back over and over.

“I should kill you.” Rasha pulled his arm up hard, breaking what was left of his spine. “You tried to kill the only human that tried to help us, that cared about us. I-”

“Rasha! Stop.” Anton grabbed her hand. She was trembling in rage, her eyes were filled with a fury he had never seen before.

Cetina said that she was losing herself to rage when they sparred…

“Sorry.” Rasha pulled her hoof out the Elder’s back. “I…”

“Just take a deep breath.”

Rasha nodded but her breathing was still very fast, more so than just from the adrenaline.

One of my bodyguards turns to ice when she fights, the other an uncontrollable fiery rage. I really picked both ends of the spectrum here.

“I saw the blade and everything went red.” Rasha shook her hands. “It was like…”

“It’s okay. You did your duty, and very well at that too. I suppose I should heal him. You really did a number on his back.”

Rasha almost smiled. The Elder was barely breathing, foamy blood weakly leaked from his mouth, Rasha’s hoof had crushed the man’s spine, reducing it to nothing more than an inch thick. After a single healing chant their body completely recovered. Rasha picked the man up and threw him into the others, not caring where he landed.

“Where did you get that?” Anton pointed to the small knife. “You must have been very desperate to try and attack me.”

Anton summoned another fireball as the seconds dragged on. “Or do you need to be roasted to be encouraged to talk. I don’t mind either way, I’ve had my fill of stupid shit over the past few days.”

“It…It’s from the dinners.” The Elder held his chest tight, the pain continuing to course through his mind. “They didn’t check one day…”

Anton glanced to the entrance. “Looks like I’ll need to have a talk with them. You could have killed yourself with that blade if you really wanted to…”

Rasha trotted over and retrieved the knife. The man spoke the truth, it was just a normal kitchen knife. There were faint scraps of food coating the edge.

“Thanks, Rasha.”

Anton turned to the first Elder. He had finished signing the document. Though he didn’t understand the signature it was a near identical copy to the writ to give Gerin command of the Dark Elf military. There was one way to make sure it was.

Anton held the Elders head, Rasha moved close and scrunched her fist. He chanted a truth prayer, the signature was true and didn’t hide any hidden meaning or secret plea for help.

“That was smart,” Rasha whispered into his ear. “Otherwise they might try something when you go back.”

Anton smiled and poked Rasha’s nose. She blinked before breaking out into a smile herself.

Anton could barely hold back his delight. “Finally we can make Atros strong. Do you have any idea what this means for the Beast-kin?”

“How does getting an artefact from the Dark Elves help us?” Rasha tilted her head, frowning in deep thought. “I…I don’t understand. Again.”

“Trust me. With this, the Seocurian won’t be able to stop us. No one will.”

“If you say so, Anton.” Rasha chuckled. “I’ll believe you.”

“So what happens now?” The Elder asked. Rasha took back the pen, hidden near his feet. “Are you just going to keep us here for your amusement?”

“Keep well behaved and nothing bad will happen to you.” Anton moved to the door. Rasha took back her halberd. “No more knife tricks. I might not be here to fix it next time.”

Anton opened the door and passed over the small knife to the waiting guards.

“Why…”

“You might want to keep a closer eye on what the prisoners are given. And that they return them all.” Anton nodded towards Rasha. “Something might have happened if it weren’t for her.”

The guards turned very solemn, very nervous. Anton wasn’t that concerned. So long as such a lapse didn’t happen again. If they had some younger prisoners, prisoners that could actually fight…

“Of course, Anton.” The guards retook their positions, some inside the prison.

“What…What was that screaming before?”

“Best you not think about it too much. They’re fine. Well, physically at least.” Anton folded his arms. “I get the feeling that they won’t be a problem for much longer.”

The guards nodded. They didn’t know if that meant death or freedom, but they clearly guessed the former.

“Rasha, could you escort me to the portal? Unfortunately I can’t spend any more time in Atros.”

Rasha nodded and walked beside him. The streets of Atros were continuing to grow ever more rapidly, but underneath the smiling faces, Anton could see that something was wrong.

“Rasha? Is there something happening in Atros that I don’t know about?”

“Not really,” Rasha said softly. “Oh…Did they tell you there was a small Goblin assault the other day?”

“No...” Anton sighed. “I suppose it wasn’t that bad then.”

“I think it was a few hundred, but they didn’t reach the walls.” Rasha pointed her halberd towards the south. “With all the archers and the Dark Elves, they didn’t have much of a chance.”

“The Dark Elves are settling in?”

Rasha looked around. She grumbled lightly, Anton walked into a small alleyway, one safe from prying eyes and ears.

“Their leader, Leran, was speaking with Marion during the battle.” Rasha glanced out and leant very close. “She said she thought he might be planning something. He was asking about how the Beast-kin felt being led by a human. And having Seocurians in Atros too…Marion thought you should know.”

“Marion told you so you’d tell me?”

Rasha nodded. “She said that I’ll see you before her. Oh.” Rasha smiled. “She said it was for Kal, then for you.”

“What a kind woman.” Anton chuckled. “But it wasn’t entirely unexpected. They are pirates after all. And they are still an organised people, rather than a group of former bondsmen and rescued slaves.”

“Slaves that are eternally grateful that you did.” Rasha smiled. “I know that I am.”

“But…Thanks. We’ll need to keep an eye on them. I don’t think they’ll do anything, since we saved them, but you never now. Leran doesn’t know much about Atros, and I doubt he’d do something that would put his people in extreme risk.” Anton smiled. “I suppose that’s why Leran sent the twins to follow me.”

“So they might overhear something important?” Rasha raised a brow before scratching her chin. “Maybe see a different side of people? Or just to secure their position in Atros.”

Anton chuckled. “There might be one quick way to do that. But it won’t work with the Dark Elves.”

Rasha raised a red brow, tilting her head. “What’s that?”

Anton waved her down. “I’ll explain when we’re back properly. But, in the meantime, make sure you keep yourself safe. They know who you are and your proximity to me makes you a target.”

“Proximity?” Rasha mumbled softly, shrugging when she couldn’t understand.

Anton re-joined the street. “Be very careful of everything. Especially going alone somewhere, where you could be jumped on. A small knife can still cut deep.”

Rasha rubbed her neck. “I’ll see if Ulyaa can get me some more silk. See if I can get some sort of scarf.”

“You’re not worried about wearing something that came from Ulyaa?”

“Not at all. Everyone’s fine with it…But they don’t know exactly where it came from. I’m sure once they realise how strong it is they won’t mind.”

Rasha smiled as they walked silently through the streets of Atros.

---[]---

“This is so good.” Anton found himself giggling like a child. In his hands was the rifle, the five spent bullets in the other. Though it was rusted and damaged it was still an excellent find. “I can’t believe I’m actually holding one. Let’s just restore this back to normal.”

Though it took an extreme amount of mana the rifle was completely repaired, restored to a pristine condition; the wood’s discolouration faded, the rust adorning the metal faded away. Now resting in his hand was a perfect weapon from Earth.

“Such a bountiful gift.” Anton laughed again.

“You know that you’re more excited to have this thing then bedding all of us.” Verona pouted. “I can’t believe my husband is more interested in a piece of metal and wood than three beautiful women.”

Kal smiled while Cetina continued to stare at the weapon.

“He wasn’t very happy,” Gerin said softly. “I think he nearly had a heart attack when you showed that piece of paper.”

“I’m sure if we still had that sword it would have smoothed things over.”

When Anton focused he could hear pacing and swearing from the level above, even with the thick stone separating them.

“Well, it’s just one.” Anton sighed. “Though we won’t be able to recreate something like this anytime soon…I don’t know how good the Dwarves are at something so precise.”

“Especially with our tools,” Kal said. “But I’m guessing you’ll buy some from the Dwarven Isles.”

“How far away is Wilford, anyway?” Verona asked.

“I think he’s going around the bottom of the continent.” Anton patted the rifle again. “So it’ll still be a bit.” He looked up at Gerin. “More than enough time to finish off the last of the Goblin infestation.”

Gerin’s body tensed slightly.

“What are you going to do once it’s all over?” Cetina asked. “Are you just going to go back to your island?”

“Will you surrender the power you’ve been given?” Verona asked softly.

Gerin gently nodded. “I shall. But…The Mist Walker Elders cannot return. I sincerely doubt they will just let this humiliation go.”

“No…Not they won’t.” Anton sighed. “A shame…”

An oppressive silence filled the air. No one needed to speak, they all knew the fate of the Mist Walker Elders.

Chapter 160 - Vol 4 - Last Gasp

Chapter 160:

“It seems such a waste to rebuild the bridges after you’ve destroyed them,” Vonkal spoke softly to Anton. “Such a waste of time and manpower. But I understand the alternative is to allow the Goblins to over-run the entire Mainland.”

Anton looked at the southern tip of the Green Moon Clan Island from the coast of the mainland, the faint dawn light scattering over the cliffs and trees. The receding sea revealed the destruction Anton had caused on the land bridge. A large hole had been carved into the stone path, large pieces jutted out of the sea nearby. The gap was wide and deep enough that the Goblins would drown if they dared to cross, unless they built a bridge, not that they had. So far at least. Anton also destroyed the bridge within arrow range from the shoreline for that very reason.

Anton nodded. “At least the fire didn’t last that long…I was actually worried it might destroy half of The Shadow Isles.”

Vonkal laughed. “The trees will recover. Just as they always have. Though I won’t deny that some people are very, very upset.”

“Better that they live to see another day.” Another Dark Elf said. “I know that my people will.”

Anton had been joined by a number of Island Dark Elf leaders, or at the least their representatives. Verona, Kal and Cetina were more than a little put off by how some clans had first sent young women, for obvious reasons. They continued to keep their guards up while the Dark Elves skirted around something, each unwilling to ask the question first.

“In a couple of days The Shadow Isles will be secure and then we’ll be leaving.” Anton folded his arms. “Then we’ll be out of your hair for good. Unless something terrible happens.”

“But what will happen to us once the crisis is averted?” A female Dark Elf leader asked. “When the Mist Walker Elders regain control.”

Not likely…

“Are you expecting some sort of retaliation?” Anton asked. “They gave Gerin control of their military. I know that you’ve all despaired at how poorly they’ve actually performed.”

The Dark Elves didn’t refute him.

“So what’s the problem?”

That’s actually something we haven’t worked out yet. Is Gerin going to surrender his authority? He only has control over the armies, nothing more, and only until the Goblins are defeated…If he becomes the ruler will that benefit us and the Dark Elves? He seems more than competent, at military matters at least, and it wouldn’t be hard to make it seem like the elders are continuing to give orders…Maybe give the clans more independence so they don’t question it? So long as it doesn't turn out like Qaiviel

Verona lightly jabbed his side.

“We have heard that you are offering land to fifteen thousand of the DuskReaver members,” Vonkal said softly. “Is this true?”

“Besides the Green Moon clan.” Another Dark Elf added.

“It is. But, given the state of the war and how difficult rebuilding will be we’re probably going to have to negotiate the number down.”

The Green Moon weren’t a part of the original deal, and I don’t like the idea of fifteen thousand DuskReavers that might just be hiding agents just waiting for a signal from Gerin.

“And your people have suffered so many losses.”

“C-Could that offer be extended to us?” A female Dark Elf asked.

“It could.” Anton nodded gently. “Though you must understand that Atros isn’t that well developed yet. It could barely take in the Green Moon Clan survivors. I anticipated the settlers would come in slowly to allow us to build up and adequately cope with such an influx. What sort of numbers are we talking about?”

“The Shadow Isles are simply too small for the Dark Elves,” Vonkal said. “We need new lands…Also so that our race doesn’t go extinct the next time this happens.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t.” Verona chuckled. “Though your lands are very nice I would like to feel the sun on my skin again.”

“That’s…” Kal smiled and trailed off. Verona had inadvertently brought up a Beast-kin saying that, unfortunately, originated from the Seocurian’s preferred method of executing their unruly beasts; crucifixion in the harsh Seocurian sun.

Anton patted Kal’s shoulder. “So what sort of numbers? But, be aware, that they will be beholden to the wishes of Atros first and foremost, not that we’ll be doing anything foolish or mistreat your people.”

The Dark Elves glanced at one another.

“Two thousand?” Vonkal asked. “There are many people in my clan that would be glad to settle somewhere else. Somewhere with lots of free land, and where we are not obligated to follow the whims of the Mainlander Elders.”

“Lots of Goblins too,” Anton said. “Our lands aren’t entirely safe yet. I’m planning to expand the safe areas but it will take time.”

“Your people have experience in defending themselves though,” Cetina added.

Vonkal laughed. “That they are…So?” He turned to the other Dark Elves. “What about you? I’ve already said my piece.”

The other Dark Elves agreed on the same rough numbers. If they turned up at once there would be more Dark Elves than humans or Beast-kin, though the Dwarves would overtake them all very soon.

“I think that’s agreeable.” Anton turned to the land bridge. With the water low enough the Dark Elves began to move wooden bridge components across. It wouldn’t withstand the rising tides but that was an easy fix. With a portal on both sides, it would be extremely easy to move soldiers and supplies.

“Though the people we were to receive were part of coming here to help the DuskReavers.” Anton continued. “Are you planning to just lose two thousand without any compensation? I will, of course, return if needed, but I have many, many more things to accomplish.”

“And not enough time to do it.” Kal murmured.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Vonkal smiled. “So long as we can come and visit, from time to time of course.”

Vonkal glanced to Kal, specifically her ears.

“Many of our cities are over-populated. Not that you’d think that.”

“I honestly wouldn’t. If anything your lands seem sparse…but I think you know how many this place can safely hold.” Anton frowned. “But, Vonkal, if you think that you can come to Atros and interfere with any of my Beast-kin, no matter who they are, you might as well take a swim right now.”

Vonkal looked to the roiling seas, the waves throwing up great plumes of white foam as they crashed into the near vertical cliffs. He laughed but didn’t refute anything.

A whistle rang out from the front of the Dark Elf lines. The Bridges were in place and the Dark Elves were advancing once again. Jaguar Riders ran at the front, charging up the length of the land bridge with the regular infantry close behind.

“Our time’s up.” Anton waved the Dark Elves away. “Let’s get this darn mess over with.”

---[]---

The Goblins offered almost no resistance once they reached the Green Moon Island. Only a few, sparse Goblins peppered the forests and cities. Otherwise, it was completely abandoned, something that made everyone extremely unsettled. Anton doubted the Deformed Red would just give up. As they pushed further, however, resistance began to grow. At first, it wasn’t significant but soon they were fighting hundreds at a time, huge clusters surging through the stony undergrowth, all coming from the Green Moon fortress that loomed in the distance. Though they had little difficulty in pushing through the Goblin infested cities and towns they encountered their first real obstacle at the base of the fortress. A wooden layered defence surrounded the outer wall, manned by thousands upon thousands of Goblins armed with slings and crude bows. Beyond those, the breaches in the fortress had been crudely repaired with large logs haphazardly thrown together. Most interestingly Kal’s smoke stone had been destroyed, either the stone itself destroyed or the magic. Either way, it was somewhat unsettling; a Blue was present. Or something worse.

Anton approached Gerin, leading the battle from a safe distance. “Do you want this fortress in one piece or not?”

“What…What do the Green Moon have to say?” Gerin nodded to the fortress. “This is still their lands.”

“They said they’ll stay in Atros. Don’t think they’ll be returning anytime soon, especially after how we discovered they had hidden boats. But I don’t think they have much use of this fortress now, especially after the Goblins have defiled it…And that we both know they’re using it to hide their raiding ships.”

“I hope you’re keeping an eye on them.” Gerin focused back on the fortress. “Criminals tend not to change.”

“What do you do with Dark Elf criminals?” Verona asked.

“Depends on the crime.” Gerin shrugged. “Theft, not much. Maybe some lashings and forced labour. Murder, hanging.”

“Simple and effective. Are there many criminals here?”

Gerin laughed. “There are a lot less pirates now.”

Gerin’s eyes scanned the fortress, watching his own warriors pick the Goblins from the wooden walls. However, there appeared to be no end to the Goblins; the moment one fell another simply took its place. Again the Goblins played to their strength, seemingly limitless numbers. But they knew that they could not infinitely reinforce their lines. Eventually they would break.

But that Red has to know this. Surely. They can’t win by staying on the defensive forever. So what’s it planning?

“If you could burn down the wooden walls.” Gerin pointed to the crudely repaired breach in the stone wall. “Then it would make things a lot easier.”

“Unless that’s what he’s waiting for.” Anton mused. “I doubt that Red is dead. And until we know for sure…Well, that might just be what he’s waiting for. Us crawling through the narrow confines and ambushing us. That fortress is designed to repel invaders with minimal manpower, how dangerous do you think it will be teeming with Goblins.”

“We could keep luring them out,” Kal said softly. “But that will take time.”

“Time we…” Anton smiled. “I guess we do have time. Quite a bit of it too. It’s not like we have another war going on.”

Gerin nodded. “I’d still like to have this done soon. The sooner the better, the less of my people die…”

Anton gave a curt nod and summoned six large Lightning Crows. Though he could only summon one at a time it was extremely good practice, especially in a very noisy and distracting environment. With a single sentence, the Lightning Crows flew into the air to rain down their destructive attacks onto the Goblin lines. Their defences had nothing planned for aerial attacks and were easy prey. Anton continued to fight down the slowly building surge, creating and discarding a Marble Spear just to make sure. With each Large Lightning Crow throwing off three lightning bolts at a time the Goblins were quickly whittled down.

“See?” Verona laughed, throwing her head back into Anton’s chest. “Easy. Too easy, really.”

Anton agreed. It was too easy, or perhaps the Red was simply out of resources. It was certainly possible but Anton didn’t buy it.

“Allow me to destroy that barricade.”

The wooden barricade exploded in a shower of sparks and splinters, evidently not enchanted against a Lightning Lance.

Gerin turned to a subordinate. “Order two battalions to breach the fortress. Make sure they’re Mainlanders.”

The Dark Elves approached the outer walls with hesitation, always on the lookout for any sign of a trap. As they advanced, the Large Lightning Crows still above them, they found absolutely nothing. Occasionally they found the odd Goblin still alive but those were quickly put down. The Dark Elves reached the edge of the wall and momentarily turned their attention up to the arrow slits. Convinced they were empty, Anton’s Lightning Crows continued to fly over the fortress, the Dark Elves dived through. Verona drew a breath before the Lightning Crows began to attack again. The Mainlander Elves streamed back through the breach, many dropping their swords as their boots slipped on the loose stones.

Anton readied a small army of Large Fire Imps as something scampered out of the breach. These were Goblins, not that Anton thought it would be anything else, but these ran on all fours, keeping their light purple body just above the stone. For a horrifying moment Anton thought they were an army of the assassin type purples but their skin was mottled, great white patches covering their skin. Their faces were also not tight and drawn up in a twisted parody of a smile, rather a slathering madness. The Dark Elves didn’t hesitate and riddled them with arrows, sinking deep into their flesh but only stopping them with shots to the head. Anton anticipated a surge of charge up his tail, like the Stitch Soldiers, but he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing even as hundreds of the Mottled Goblins fell.

“What have they been up to now?” Anton asked aloud.

He created a line of tethered flame rings and released them just before the stone walls. The seething tide of Goblins darted away from the rapidly glowing ground, some even straight up the smooth stone wall. Anton clicked his tongue as only a few were caught by the flame.

“This is going to take a while.”

Those clambering up the walls turned back the moment the flames died down, but it gave the Dark Elves the chance to regroup. The fire also destroyed the remains of the wooden defences, giving the archers an unobstructed view. Hundreds upon hundreds of Mottled Goblins fell to the Dark Elves. Anton summoned another two small Lightning Crows and set them to work. As the minutes dragged on, the Dark Elves’ quivers’ began to run empty but the Mottled Goblins numbers refused to relent. A worried look spread through their lines as those at the front began to yell for arrows to be brought forward.

“I can handle this.” Verona manoeuvred Anton’s hands to her waist. “Just hold on.”

“Hang back you two,” Anton yelled to Kal and Cetina, his hands gripped tightly onto Verona’s waist as the Jaguar leapt forward.

Verona summoned her blood shards and threw them forward. The Mottled Goblins scurried away from the shards while continuing to charge into the barrage of arrows. Verona’s shards were faster but her frustration was clear. She broke the blood into tiny slivers to throw them in great waves through the Mottled Goblin’s charge. Anton threw a few small lightning bolts and a wave but he couldn’t help much, at least the lightning was fast enough to strike the Mottled Goblins before they could react. As Anton readied a Lightning Ring his eyes were drawn deep into the Green Moon fortress. The Mottled Goblins continued to pour out of the many breaches from the central building of the fortress but some stopped the moment they reached the outdoors. Their claws pawed at their faces, pulling away some thin slime covering their bodies. Those already attacking, now forming great piles from their corpses, were not. More and more Mottled Goblins stopped and tried to clean themselves before plunging into the assault.

“Just hold on a bit longer!” Anton yelled to the Dark Elves. “I think they’re about to run out.”

It was small comfort to the Dark Elves; their hands shook from repeatedly drawing the bows, their eyes grew worried as they mentally counted down how many arrows they had and knowing they were starting to run low.

Anton created a Lightning Ring one after another, throwing them randomly throughout the open courtyard of the fortress. Slowly the Mottled Goblins’ numbers dwindled until they simply ceased. The last few Mottled Goblins were slick with a strange mucous. Finally, they too fell and the entire battlefield turned silent. No one was willing to speak a word for some time, all attention was focused towards the breach.

“I’ll send the Fire Imps first!” Anton yelled to Gerin. “Send the soldiers in after.”

Gerin nodded and began reorganising their forces. Verona kept her blood shards hovering as Anton motioned for her to bring one of the corpses close. It was a Goblin, perhaps more malformed than normal, but apart from the mottled skin, it appeared nothing more than a large discoloured Yellow. However he began to notice subtle differences; their shoulder and leg joints were strange, far more suited for something lying prone than standing upright, the claws were shorter but far stronger and sharper. None of the Mottled Goblins wore any clothes, even the lowliest Green Goblin wore something over its groin, even if it’s nothing more than grass or ragged pieces of cloth.

“Like they were just born and thrown into the assault.” Anton mused. Verona shot him a look. “I don’t think anyone here would know anything…”

He looked to the Fire Imps breaking through the inner breach, almost instantly his tail began to tingle with a charge.

“The Goblins aren’t done yet!” Anton yelled to Gerin. “Make sure everyone keeps their wits about them.”

Gerin nodded again and continued disseminating orders.

“Can I put this down now?” Verona asked. “Unless you want to keep it?”

“Just toss it.”

Verona was more than happy to toss it onto the pile. Anton threw a small fireball onto the heap and began to burn the bodies. They didn’t ignite so he had to maintain the magic. Kal and Cetina approached as the previous Dark Elf attackers slowly moved forward, salvaging their arrows and delicately moving across the stones slick with blood.

“Imagine if we’d been caught out in the open with these things.” Anton mused, waving towards the piles of Mottled Goblins. “It would have made a lot more sense to use these inside the forests than in the fortress.” Anton squeezed Verona’s waist. “You told me about the Goblins jumping down from the trees. Can’t imagine these things leaping at me.”

Verona nodded. “That means…That means they only just got them.”

“Still no sign of the Red.” Kal mused. “That worries me.”

Anton nodded, turning to the inner breach. His Fire Imps illuminated the way, their flaming forms casting orange light over the normal Goblins fighting within the fortresses walls.

“We’ll find our answers inside.” Anton patted Verona’s side. “Better not let them go unaccompanied in there. I don’t want to find out how dangerous those things are inside a corridor.”

---[]---

The floors of the interior of the fortress were slick with blood and flesh. The summons Anton had sent forth eviscerated the Yellow and Black Goblins in the tight corridors. However Anton, just behind a leading force of Dark Elves, could tell they were still fighting hard. The jolts racing up his tail was more than enough of an indicator. They fought through they tight confines, fighting more and more of the Mottled Goblins that attacked with nothing more than their claws and rage. These Mottled Goblins, unlike those outside, were very wet and slick. Anton didn’t like the implications.

“Don’t shoot.” Anton leant over the Dark Elves and threw another fire lance.

The Goblins evaporated, he accidentally hit one of his fire imps, not that it appeared to mind, and cleaved a path. While he could hear the fighting around them, in the numerous other passageways, there was a new noise. They were close to the inner dock but he could hear something different to the gentle lapping of water and the groan of wood grinding against stone. In fact, he shouldn’t be able to hear anything from there. And yet…

“Kal? Any ideas?”

Kal closed her eyes and focused. “I can hear something…It sounds like someone’s drowning. I think. It’s hard to say. I don’t really know what I’m hearing.”

“We took all the Dark Elves,” Cetina said softly.

“And all the ones we’ve found so far have been dead.” Kal readied her bow. “Even the women.”

Slowly they advanced, soon Anton could hear it too. It wasn’t drowning per se, but definitely a gurgling. The Green Moon’s sleek boats were still inside the dock, a faint light rained down upon them. If the Goblins were able to sail ships they’d be in serious trouble.

A leading Dark Elf lowered his bow. “What is that?”

He pointed to the boats. Goblin corpses, their stomachs ripped open, were piled high onto the boats. With the gentle rocking a Goblin slipped free, their blood acting as lubricant, and slipped into the water with the tiniest splash. They spread out and secured the area, only a few Black Goblins remained in the dock which was quickly disposed of. None of the Mottled Goblins anywhere to be seen.

Anton turned to the Fire Imps. “Kill any Goblins within your range.”

The Fire Imps ran towards the passageways leading away from the docks. This place was safe and secure, hopefully.

Anton moved to the edge of the inner wharf, not willing to step onto the boats. “What happened to these things?”

His stomach churned to see such horrific injuries inflicted on these horrible creatures. The Goblin’s womb had been ripped open, the rest of their body remained relatively intact. Their organs had clearly been compressed, they were far higher up their bodies than normal, were otherwise fine. Their faces, usually sneering and hateful were forever contorted in unimaginable pain; their claws were broken off leaving bloody stumps for fingers, Anton found their broken claws scattered over the floor. Strangely they congregated one and five meters apart, meaning they were kept five meters apart while…this happened to them.

“They’re female,” Kal said. Her eyes darted over the visible corpses. “All of them…I think we know where the mottled Goblins came from.”

One Goblin lay on its front. Its crotch was exposed, definitely a female.

“Caesarean?” Anton mused. “Definitely not…not in the way I’m thinking.”

Verona summoned her shards and picked up a Goblin corpse. The stomach’s skin had simply stretched beyond any hint of integrity and torn from the strain, parts of the flesh were thin and almost like gossamer.

“So…How did they manage to make this?” Anton rubbed his chin as Verona brought the corpse closer. “Whatever it was it did a number on them. I actually feel a little sorry for them.”

Verona raised a brow.

“Just a little.” Anton winked.

“I can’t imagine a hundred babies ripping out of me.” Verona shuddered. “Little disgusting monsters clawing at my flesh.”

“I can’t see anything.” Anton bobbed his head around the corpse, Verona rotated it according to his gestures. “I-”

Something fell from the dead female Goblin. It was attached to her groin, hidden by the pieces of loose bloody skin. A male Goblin flopped dead onto the ground, the creature's body had been broken in disturbing ways. Even more disturbingly the flesh on the Goblins front was…melted. The two creatures had fused, somehow. Verona spun the female around but didn’t find any extra attached to her.

“I honestly have no idea anymore,” Anton grumbled.

“There’s something in its stomach.” Kal sniffed deeply, wrinkling her face at the overwhelming stench of blood. “It smells like earth and yet sweet?”

“Cetina? Can you find a bucket or something?”

“Sure.”

“What…” Verona looked at a floating shard. “Oh, that’s disgusting.”

Cetina returned with a small wooden crate, the junk contents lying on the floor behind her. Verona sighed and cut the stomach free from the Goblin. The moment she cut it free Anton’s nose recoiled, the rotting smell of the Goblin’s stomach was too much to bear. Kal began to dry heave, Anton ushered her away as Verona, holding her nose tight, placed it in the crate. Cetina wasn’t doing much better but she was holding up.

“How many more?” Verona held back a cough.

“Just this one.” Anton covered his face with his sleeve. “I don’t want anything to escape.”

Verona tossed the body back with the others, causing another three to slide loose from the mountain. She, after forcing down another dry heave, cut the Goblin’s stomach and spilt the contents. Anton expected green, Goblins could easily subsist on grass, but found a vile black liquid coating the green. A small puddle of a black and white liquid slid off the small piles of grass, the colours refusing to mix as it tumbled over itself.

“Can you get that?” Anton asked.

Verona glumly nodded but obeyed. After forming the blood into a bowl she scooped the vile black liquid up. Anton passed over a glass Mana vial. Verona grumbled as it slowly poured in, the mixture still refused to mix.

“How did the Red get this?” Anton asked. “Can’t ask him though...”

Anton clicked his tongue. The lack of the Red Goblin, and its Black bodyguard or any sort of leadership troubled him greatly. There was still one island remaining but he doubted that was worth anything. They had escaped. Somehow. And to where?

Those people Verona and Kal found, the amulets around their necks…They probably took them. But to where? It’ll take us a long time to reach Soulthor in Graterious. And we just don’t have the time. Perhaps Ferula could investigate?

Regardless they had not seen the last of them.

“Could you get three more?” Anton passed Verona the empty glass vials. She grumbled but did as she was asked.

With all four filled the other Dark Elves arrive in the dock. They appeared initially relieved to see, figuratively, the end of the battle. Realising what the piles of bodies were it faded, replaced with retching, not all of it dry.

Gerin, Ceccitol and Tuccac finally arrived. They too looked utterly shocked and disgusted by what they found.

“By all the gods.” Ceccitol held a hand over her mouth. “What is this?”

Anton glanced at the vials. “I wish I knew. I doubt you knew anything about these mottled Goblins. Or…This?”

Ceccitol and Tuccac shook their heads, Gerin held his flat.

“We should burn this…Abomination.” Gerin spoke very softly.

“I would like the ships though.” Anton put the glass vials away. “Since they belong to the Green Moon clan, and they work for me now.”

“After all this?” Tuccac asked. “I don’t think you’d be able to remove the blood.”

He glanced at Verona.

“Sorry. I can only control the blood that I let. Not just random puddles. Otherwise, I’d be too powerful.”

Verona directed her shards to start collecting the bodies into a great pile. She looked to him, motioning for him to create a flame but he was a little worried. If the strange liquid reacted badly to flame who knows what they could unleash. Best to let the creatures rot.

“Someone see if they can get the door open,” Anton told a nearby Dark Elf. “Then we can sail these things out and…Be done with this place once and for all.”

Verona dropped the last pile of goblins onto the stone of the inner wharf. “Right. That’s all done now.”

“The last Island will soon fall to the Dark Elves.” Anton patted down his cloak. “And they’ll soon have complete control. The war is essentially over. But that leaves one question.”

“So what happens to you?” Anton turned to Gerin. “And what happens to us?”

Chapter 161 - Vol 4 - Twin Resolutions

Chapter 161:

Wine and food flowed in great rivers at the large Dark Elf town. The town was the largest on the Mainland, recently reclaimed from the Goblin horde. After their defeat at the Green Moon Fortress their resistance completely collapsed. The remaining island were quickly cleared of Goblins and order restored. One final issue remained.

What happened next?

Gerin called a meeting of every high-level Clan leader, from the Mainland and the Islands, to discuss the future. Anton and his companions had been invited as well. They stood out amongst the hundreds of Dark Elves, if only by their lighter skin. Anton ensured they remained near the peripheries of the celebration. He didn’t want to diminish their victory but also not to garner too much attention.

“I wonder how Gerin’s going to take the exodus of Dark Elves.” Anton mused quietly to the girls. All three returned a confusing glance. “We’re taking…around twenty-four thousand Dark Elves, over a period of time, but they will be missed. And after such a horrible war. They're going to need to repopulate.”

Verona sniggered, pointing to the frolicking Dark Elves. “I think there’s going to be a whole bunch of new Dark Elves after tonight. I know that Ceccitol said that they could only get pregnant once every thirty days…But they’re definitely going to try.”

Verona wasn’t exactly wrong. The disparate groups, Mainlander and Islanders, mingled together. A gratuitous amount of alcohol removed many psychological barriers and gave those wavering a heaping of courage, albeit fuelled by their impaired functions. It appeared to be having some success; many couples were starting to form, some a bit more aggressively than he would like to see. The Dark Elf women didn’t need rescuing though. Not if their prowess as warriors was anything to judge by.

“Better get that bed before we leave.” Anton took a sip of the Dark Elf wine. “Hmm…Everyone in this world, at least the nobility, seems to know how to make good wine.”

“The food is really good too.” Kal smiled warmly, wrapping her arm around his spare and into her chest. “But I’ll be so glad to head back home.”

"Settle down a bit for the winter," Verona said. "Stop travelling so much and get to know Atros."

Verona rubbed her stomach. "But you and I both know that Anton's not going to let a bit of snow stop his meandering adventures."

Anton spied Ceccitol and Tuccac manoeuvring their way through the crowds, their children close behind. Both wore traditional Dark Elf garb, with Ceccitol’s thigh slit reaching much higher than normal and Tuccac's neckline much lower, showing off a rather well-toned chest.

Anton bowed his head as the two approached. Verona waved at the children, the girls nervously returned it, intimidated by Verona's physique, while the boy eagerly returned his. Kal and Cetina gently waved as Ceccitol stopped before Anton.

"This...I didn't think we'd actually win." Ceccitol gently shook her head whilst smiling. A pair of golden ear chains poked through her dead straight black hair. "Part of me thought we would have to all flee to Atros; our children would never know the beauty of our island home."

"And they will." Kal glanced to Gerin, standing on a raised platform with several important Island Clan leaders, even one or two Mainlanders. "So long as your father does everything right."

Ceccitol silently nodded. "He has agreed to the plan. No one else knows, yet, but I'm sure they're going to be very happy with the result."

"Is there going to be a good time for us to leave?" Anton softly asked. "We aren't going to regret coming here, are we?"

Ceccitol frowned and tilted her head.

"All these leaders, in one place." Anton rested a hand on his waist, just above a small dagger. "If something were to happen to them..."

Again Ceccitol appeared confused. Tuccac gently leant into her ear, the colour quickly drained from her face.

"No!" Several nearby Dark Elves looked over for the sudden outburst. Ceccitol flattened her already smooth shirt. "At least, not that I'm aware."

She leant close, Anton's nose detected a strange fruity perfume. "But you would have already planned for that. Right?"

“We have.” Anton smiled. “And we can escape in just a few seconds. We’ve…We’ve had some practice.”

Cetina kept the portal stone bag slung over her shoulder, one of the reasons why they remained near the wall. It was enchanted with a protective prayer to give anyone, except them, a near-lethal shock. For a child, it probably would be. Not to mention Verona’s fresh blood. She had secured a single small pot in a special place, hidden in her chest, where no one would be able to reach.

“Well…I don’t think there will be.”

“Gerin wouldn’t be able to control the clans,” Tuccac said softly. “It’s not in his interest to do something like that.”

Not when he can keep issuing orders through the Mist Walker Elders messengers. That gives him effective control over the entire Dark Elf race. Well, except those in Atros.

“I don’t think he would.” Anton glanced around the room. No one had any significant weapons, apart from them and a select few. "But power and its promises can warp even the purest of intentions. That's something that weighs on my mind."

“My father is going to be busy for some time.” Ceccitol glanced to Gerin, still talking with the other leaders. “He’s told me that…Would five thousand DuskReaver settlers be acceptable?”

“That’s a little less than we were promised.” Verona folded her arms. She glanced at Anton. “Not that we’re complaining too much but…still.”

“Is it because of the other clans?” Kal asked softly.

Ceccitol shook her head. “No. We need everyone we can get to rebuild. But I think Gerin might know of that…”

“It was a part of our original agreement.” Anton rubbed his chin. “But…Things have definitely changed since then.”

“Indeed…”

"If we don't meet your father before you do tell him that is acceptable." Ceccitol’s face softened to his words. "We will pay for building materials and food. I hope that you can actually trade with the outside world now. Start to get some money flowing into The Shadow Isles."

"And our goods too." Verona chimed in. "Whenever we start making enough stuff to sell. Do you like...Really strong alcohol?"

Ceccitol laughed. “Some of us do. But if it’s anything like those dwarves enjoy then it might be a little much.”

"There is something." Tuccac began. "I've been told that some of your Green Moon Elves are missing someone?"

"Yes. Calo and Sheso are missing their mother. Apparently she was in the south of The Shadow Isles when the attacks started in earnest."

"My father...In-law thought it would be a good idea to have her go with you." Tuccac smiled. "Not because we dislike the Green Moon, but she should be with children."

"Is she here?" Verona asked. "I remember those sly little twins mention she was a Principle Mage."

"She is. But I'll leave it to you to determine how powerful. Understanding magic is not my strong point."

"Not mine either," Anton said softly.

Tuccac raised a questioning brow followed by a smile. He didn't understand that Anton didn't know how he would fare against a Principle Mage of his calibre.

A Dark Elf couple approached, Anton had trouble distinguishing them from the rest but Ceccitol clearly knew who they were.

"Anton, this is Praanvi. Mother of Calo and Sheso."

The woman bowed but only slightly. Despite the slim clothes, her stomach was quite large, too large to simply be fat.

The timing of that...If the pregnancy takes about the same length as a human’s...This could be interesting.

"Hello." Praanvi smiled, took a step forward and bowed her head again. "Did you actually save my daughters? They’re alive and well?"

"We did. And a thousand others too."

Praanvi visibly relaxed, her partner's emotions copied hers.

"Currently they're recuperating, with lots of food and rest. They were very, very thin when we arrived."

"Thank you again. All of you. When I heard what was happening I simply couldn't believe it." Praanvi began bobbing her head to and fro. "Are they here? Leran? My brother, Cagec? Or..."

"They aren't on The Shadow Isles." Tuccac cut through the awkward silence. "They have taken refuge with Anton and his followers-"

"Followers," Verona muttered very softly. "Nice way of putting it."

"-in the southern continent. And I don't know if they shall return."

"That is their choice to make," Anton said. "But I don't think they will. Too many terrible memories. And the other clans still aren't on the best of terms."

"No." Praanvi sighed lightly. "When I travelled south I was not looked kindly upon. Anyone from the Green Moon will always have a rough life in The Shadow Isles."

"Yes..." Anton glanced to Verona and Kal, both of whom simply tilted their heads. "This war had been going on for quite some time. Now, I'm no expert in Dark Elves bodies-"

Verona opened her mouth but Kal clamped it shut.

Anton leant closer to Praanvi. "That you should not still be pregnant if you left before the Green Moon Island fell."

Praanvi glumly nodded. "That’s…Correct. The Green Moon clan knows more about humans than most Dark Elves. And…” She looked to the man standing beside. “My husband…Was not a good man.”

“Political?” Kal asked. “So the Green Moon would survive?”

Praanvi gently ran a hand through her long straight black hair. “Kind of. Leran, my father, wanted, maybe needed, more resources for…”

Praanvi’s body tensed, her fingers gripping tight on the few loose strands of hair.

“We found the ships,” Anton said calmly, Praanvi began to panic slightly. “Hidden in the fortress on the north of the island. And the plunder from merchant ships, quite recent plunder too, which you shouldn’t have.”

Praanvi and her partner looked terrified at Ceccitol and Tuccac.

“It’s okay.” Ceccitol did her best to calm them with a smile, with mixed results. “No one blames you. And everyone is willing to let it go. And the human’s they’ve raided will probably just put it down to human pirates rather than the Green Moon Clan.”

“Not much they can do about it either,” Tuccac smirked. “One advantage of staying away from the rest of the world, it’s rather difficult to bring an army against us.”

We got here pretty easily. Launch a hundred ships and some will get through…Only to get peppered by a thousand arrows from the darkness. Probably not that easy, unless you have a virtually unlimited supply of soldiers. Like the United Empire clearly had at their disposal.

“I see.” Praanvi nervousness faded. “I feel a little better knowing that.” She smiled at her partner. “It was something that I was always worried about spilling whenever I went out drinking.”

“Not when you’re pregnant, I hope,” Verona said.

Praanvi shook her head. “No. I…”

“Speaking of.” Anton nodded to her partner.

“My name is Iveta.” The man bowed. “I met Praanvi during her stay on our island, when she was collecting materials for her magical experiments and we…went from there.”

“How lovely.” Verona laughed. “I bet you two were all cute and blushing to one another.”

Their reactions confirmed Verona’s suspicions.

“Do you want to see your children?” Anton asked. “It’s more than possible to come and go between The Shadow Isles.” He glanced to Gerin. “Though over the next little while it’s probably going to be a little hectic."

“My children…” Praanvi rubbed her swollen stomach. “I can’t see them while I’m still carrying Iveta’s child. I’ve told them all my life you should be loyal to the one you love and yet I’ve done…The exact opposite.”

“Regardless your children still miss you.” Anton gently sighed. “They do worry about you, they don’t even know if you’re alive. I know it was in their thoughts even when they were under siege and starving.”

“They told you that?”

Anton slowly nodded. “So, will you at least talk to them? Even if it’s just for a day? Just so they know their mother is safe.” Anton motioned to her stomach. “From what little I’ve heard from them about their father they didn’t sound too sad to see him go. They might understand that things in life are complicated, at the best of times.”

I’ve got no idea how those two are going to react. Doubt it’ll be bad but if they consider marriage a very high position, something to be honoured above all else, then it might just backfire.

Praanvi continued to pick nervously at her fingers. “I, I don’t have too much longer with my pregnancy. I’ll see them once my child has been born. I think that might make it easier for them, to actually see a baby. Rather than my bulging stomach and waddling legs.”

“I’m sure they’d understand.” Verona planted a hand on her hip. “I hate to say this but it sounds like you don’t want to see-"

Verona was cut short by the clanging of glass coming from Gerin. The other leaders had dispersed leaving him alone on the raised platform. Praanvi and Iveta hurriedly made themselves scarce as the room’s attention quickly fell upon the Lord of the DuskReavers.

“Thank you, everyone.” Gerin held a warm but slightly reserved smile. “I know that things have been extremely difficult; the war has dragged on for too long while we have lost many that we hold dear and true to our hearts. But now, I can safely say, the Goblin threat has been eliminated.”

The slightly drunken Dark Elves cheered. Anton took the opportunity to hold his ring finger tight.

“Keep a close eye on anyone that’s moving close, any type of shadow that moves strangely nearby. Those two Shadow’s might have been the only ones owned by the Mist Walkers, and we have their clothes, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have spares.”

“I’m ready.” Verona tapped the top of her chest. “Just give the word and this will go flying out.”

Anton hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.

“However we must never become lax again, for that’s what allowed this entire situation to occur.” Gerin took a deep breath. “The Green Moon, though not the most popular clan, should never have been left to their doom. The Mist Walker Elders agree and have given me the authority to ensure that nothing like this can happen again.”

Murmurs of discontent emerged from the Mainlander Clans.

Gerin raised his hand, quelling the noise. “I understand that many of you are not entirely comfortable with an Islander Clan leading you, even though we did a considerable amount of the fighting.”

Gerin scrunched his free hand tight in an attempt to not let anything slip.

“Regardless, I have a number of directives that will ensure the continued growth of The Shadow Isles; expanding trade with the Human and Dwarven realms, lowering taxes on all clans and ensuring greater defensive cooperation. Trade will also be allowed out of all ports on the islands, so long as that clan allows it, without tariffs and restrictions. The Shadow Isles will be stronger than ever before. Of that you can be sure.”

As ever, the prospect of gold and an increase to personal freedom appealed to even the most stubborn of leaders. And the prevention of another Goblin outbreak was just a bonus. Providing another Red wasn't born anytime soon. Now the Mainlanders were much happier and, most important, compliant. Small groups began to form even though Gerin was clearly not finished.

I just hope the Ancient Listener's, or whoever is behind this, has lost all of their routes into The Shadow Isles. Otherwise we'll be dealing with this for years. Even longer if they can move more than just a few people at a time.

Gerin raised his hand again. "The Green Moon Clan, which managed to survive the onslaught, has decided to leave The Shadow Isles. We do not know if this is permanent or not but their island will become a military base and an area where our new trading vessels can be built and serviced."

No mention of their ships, those really belong to us now.

"The other two islands will be repopulated by a mixture from all of our clans to form two entirely new clans. We should not valuable land go to waste, nor let them become a new source of conflict."

Again there was a murmur of agreement.

"Anything strange throughout the crowd?" Anton asked through the ring.

"Nothing yet," Cetina replied. “Everyone seems focused on Gerin. For better or worse.”

“They’re all gossiping about how much money they’re going to make,” Verona grumbled. “But there’s one group that still seems a bit miffed.”

“Where?”

“By the door.” Kal flicked her eyes towards a large group. “Mist Walkers I think.”

The group of very discontented elves did indeed have the tassels of the Mist Walkers. Out of everyone present they had the most to lose. Even though Gerin, through Anton’s unsubtle threats, had the effective word of the Mist Walker Elders they would eventually demand to see them.

“The Mist Walker Elders are extremely busy formulating a path forward,” Gerin said loudly. “As such, they will be almost unavailable to most people, even to their own clan. They can still be contacted through their official messenger….”

The other clans, even the Mainlander’s, chuckled derisively at the Mist Walkers. Their murmuring vanished, replaced with silent contempt.

Guess they never really saw their leaders. At least things will be relatively the same. They might start to think things have become better under Gerin. At least that’s the plan. Let’s see how that goes.

Gerin waved down the Mist Walker’s bubbling anger. “The Mist Walker Elders have appointed a member of their clan to delegate the day to day activities while they continue to work on creating a better and stronger Shadow Isles.”

A Dark Elf, to the side of the platform, raised and waved his hand. His tassel was identical to the Mist Walker’s colours. Anton, however, found him to look a little…Simple.

There’s always a stooge, so long as you look hard enough. If Gerin’s smart he won’t have told him anything. At least all the heat will be directed at him. He’ll definitely need mercenaries to keep him safe, extremely well-paid ones at that.

“And finally it would be rude of me not to thank the human, and Beast-kin, mercenaries that aided us in our fight.”

Everyone’s attention fell upon them, Anton smiled and bowed his head. The girls remained resolute but Kal clearly didn’t like so much attention, judgmental at best, neither did the others.

“Many of you have not met them but have felt their efforts. Many warriors, who would have been grievously wounded or mutilated for life will now live a long and happy life. Without them…” Gerin paused for a moment, long enough for those closest to him to turn back to him. “Things would not have turned out the way they have. I fear that the discovery of the Red Goblin and the Mottled Goblins would have gone unnoticed until far, far too late. Perhaps so late that we simply wouldn’t have survived. Thank you.”

A round of light clapping filled the building. Anton held his smile as it petered away.

“With that settled, please drink and eat to your heart's content. Tomorrow the rebuilding begins in earnest!”

This time the cheers were much more intense and genuine as the groups began to begin their revelry.

“No sign of anything, Anton,” Cetina spoke calmly. “Were you honestly expecting something?...Again?”

“Keep alert. All of you.”

Gerin’s gripped his hand tight as he stepped down from the platform. The Mist Walker stooge tried to speak with Gerin but he politely brushed him aside and motioned towards Anton.

Looks like he thinks he’s an equal partner in all of this. I certainly hope not. Gerin just needs to make sure he thinks that he is. Give him a few pointless responsibilities, shouldn’t be too hard.

“A little short, I know.” Gerin stopped beside her daughter. “But I think it got the message across.”

“From what I’ve seen the Dark Elves aren’t one for dramatic and lengthy speeches.” Anton smiled. “Perhaps the Mainlanders, I haven’t really spoken to many.”

Gerin laughed. “Indeed. I think they’ll be a little bit more behaved now.”

“Your new friend is aware of what’s happening?” Kal asked softly.

Gerin shrugged. “He knows enough to not ask questions. So long as he keeps his mouth shut he’s effectively in command of the Mist Walkers.”

“I see.”

“So, is your time on The Shadow Isles almost up?” Gerin asked. “Ceccitol and Tuccac told me that you have many more plans beyond simply gaining thousands of Dark Elves.”

“We do. But with winter arriving we’ll be slowed down, a bit. Though we still have a lot of work cut out for us. Next up is the Dwarves.”

“Wilford should be arriving there soon.” Verona murmured softly.

“Only a few have asked about the Dwarves,” Gerin said. “But I believe most simply attributed it to you, as additional mercenaries. They didn’t question how it is possible to traverse such distances seemingly instantly.”

“It’s not just the Dark Elves from your clan.” Anton felt his body tense slightly. “I will be taking settlers from almost all of the Island Clans. As was part of our agreement, that we would take in some from the DuskReavers and any others that we could convince.”

Gerin appeared completely nonplussed. “It doesn’t concern me. Actually, it might be for the best. The more Dark Elves we can get out of The Shadow Isles the safer our race will be. Now…There is one last thing to be done before our business has truly concluded.”

Gerin took a step closer, Cetina’s hand moved to the hilt of a small dagger while Verona readied herself without moving a muscle.

“The issue that you hold in your lands. The very important ones.”

Anton sighed. “We shall be returning home immediately. And we’ll deal with that problem. Permanently.”

Gerin nodded and held out his hand. Anton shook it, the Dark Elves were very warm.

“Thank you, Anton. Lady Verona, Kal and Cetina. Thank you for helping us. The Dark Elves will help you and Atros whenever we are able.” Gerin smiled. “And I hope that you will come to our aide, should the need arise.”

“I just hope it isn’t the Goblins again.”

Gerin faintly nodded. “Take care.”

Gerin gave everyone a single nod and left. Ceccitol and Tuccac made a quick goodbye, Tuccac was only willing to shake hands while Ceccitol was far more intimate, leaving them alone in the corner of a room filled with Dark Elves quickly falling into a level of debauchery.

“I think we should go now,” Cetina mumbled. Her eye was locked onto a pair of Dark Elves kissing as if it was the last time they would see another living being.

“We should.” Anton grimaced. “But Gerin’s right. There’s something we have to take care of before we can really start to relax.”

---[]---

Anton stood outside of the Atros prison. The guards were perfectly silent as they stood to the side, Verona, Kal, Cetina and Rasha stood just behind him.

“I can do this if you want,” Rasha said softly. “I promised you I would, you don’t need to do this yourself.”

“I should.” Anton took a deep breath. “I was the one that ensured they survived and lingered. Lingered in this strange land in a tiny shack with virtually no light…I should be the one to do it.”

“You really don’t need to.” Verona stepped forward and held his hand tight. “I can do it with just a flick of my wrist, and they won’t feel a thing.”

“I actually want to ask them something.” Anton frowned lightly. “I want to know, now that they have nothing to lose, why they kept antagonising the Island Clans, even when they surely could have won if they had worked together. I want to know why.”

Anton turned to Kal and Rasha. “I think that might become relevant later. If we can stop it before it becomes an issue…”

Verona pulled hard on his hand, repeatedly until he looked at her. “None of what happened before, before we left for Maxill the first time. Remember?”

Ah. I burnt that person alive. From the inside out. What was her name? Did I even bother to learn it?

“I won’t.” Anton squeezed her hand tight. “I’ll be as painless as I can make it.”

Verona reluctantly relinquished her hold, returning to a slightly concerned Kal. Kal didn’t know about that incident, not that he wanted to speak or dwell upon it any more than necessary.

“Open it up.”

The prison guards shared a glance but did as they were bid. Anton took another deep breath as he entered their rudimentary prison. The Dark Elf Elders remained huddled around the central pillars of the prison, more a barn, with their arms and legs bound to the pillar with thick rope. There wasn’t going to be a similar incident with the knife.

"What do you want now?" The lead Elder asked. He glanced around Anton's shoulder as he rubbed his shoulder, looking for Rasha. "More torture? I don't see that beast with you."

"We haven't tortured you." Anton gently shut the door, someone from outside bolted it shut. "All you had to do was cooperate and Rasha, that beast, wouldn't have had to do a thing. You tried to attack me, remember?"

The Elder shuffled back to the pillar. "So what now? Is the battle over? Have you defiled one of our most precious artefacts already and want another?"

"I have no interest in your artefacts. The one I have is more than enough. And, just so you know, the battle has been won. The Shadow Isles are free from the Goblin menace and order has been restored. It'll take some time but every part will be inhabited once again and the new leadership will ensure it doesn't happen again. Everyone has agreed to it, Mainland and Islander. That and a few bonuses thrown in for them."

"So does that mean we get to go home now?" Another Elder asked softly.

The Elders grew increasingly worried as Anton remained silent. Though old, some terminally so, they understood completely.

"You can't do that." The other Elder's eyes grew wet. "You-"

"I'm sorry."

Anton summoned a barrage of Lightning bombs and threw them at the Elders heads. They barely uttered a word before their heads were consumed in a flash of light and gore. The headless bodies turned limp and collapsed onto the straw-covered ground. The lead Elder turned, utterly stunned and terrified, to his dead fellows.

"What have you done?!" The Elder shrieked. "Why?!"

"I think you know perfectly well why," Anton said softly.

One of the bodies began to twitch violently, their spasming legs tossing bloodstained straw away and over his leg.

The Elder took a deep breath. "Why am I alive? I have no magic, those amulets don't work that way, so..." Fury drenched the man's face, there was little else he could do. "Are you going to torture me now?"

"No." Anton slid to the ground, resting his back against the wall. "I want to ask a few questions."

"Why would I honestly talk to you?"

"What do you have to lose?" Anton shrugged. "I don't want to know something embarrassing or confidential about you or your clan. I want to know why you were so willing to throw away the Island Clans to their deaths, and even perhaps your entire species, because of an ancient grudge."

The Elder looked slightly confused.

"I mean, you had to know you were in serious trouble." Anton sighed. "I want to know what drove you not to work together."

"Why should I answer you?"

"You don't have to." Anton pointed towards the door. "Just out there I am building something that hasn't been seen in ages. Humans and Beastkin working and living together...But many humans look down on the Beastkin, not so much the ones here, and the Beast-kin are not that keen on humans. Especially Seocurians. The only reason why they like me, a human, is because I freed them. Of course the Seocurians were the only ones that didn’t slaughter them outright so they might actually treat them better, once they learn a bit of history."

"Is there a point to this?"

"But decisions will be made, despite what I say or order, based solely on their race. A human commander sending the Beastkin soldiers into a suicidal action. Or the reverse. I want to know what drove you to those decisions."

The Elder nodded slowly. Though his hands were bound he could still reach his head.

"I...I honestly never thought about it." The Elder took a deep breath. "I never once considered it...I mean, we knew..." The Elder glanced to the other dead Elders. "We knew but we just wanted them gone."

"So it did enter your mind but never...took root."

The Elder nodded.

“I see…Would anything, except threatening you, have changed your mind?”

“Gerin, and many others, continually asked us…” The Elder sighed, tightly scrunching his knobbly hands.

“I see.” Anton gently nodded. “Only something violent would have any hope of changing your view. I’ll keep that in mind. How to keep people objective…I wonder I how can do that…Oh well.” Anton stood up, brushing off the loose pieces of straw. “That’s a problem for another time.”

“So-”

Anton struck the Elder in the head with a Lightning Bomb. His body slumped back against the pillar and fell completely still.

“I hope it was painless.” Anton mused softly.

Anton knocked on the door. The guards opened, their faces told him they knew what had happened.

“Take those bodies somewhere and burn them,” Anton told the guards. “Make sure they’re wrapped up so no one sees them. Especially the Dark Elves. Though I’m sure the Green Moon really wouldn’t care, the other clans might. They’ll start arriving in the next few days so don’t delay.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Anton didn’t have the strength to lightly rebuke them. “Once you’re done go find Jeff and see what he wants you to do. I have no idea when we’ll have more prisoners.”

Again the guards gave a curt nod. They moved silently as they entered the room, though Anton heard murmurs as they found the bodies.

Kal peered around Anton. “Was it quick?”

“It was.” Anton nodded. “But I found out everything I needed to know.”

“What could you possibly want from them?” Rasha played with her short red braided hair.

Anton smiled. “Just a bit of perspective for the future. The Beast-kin are going to be a constant issue…Not like that. But it’s something we need to wary about. Humans and Beast-kin…It’s going to take a while before everyone, not just you girls, are fine with humans. There’s a lot of bad blood between us.”

“So was that it?” Verona asked. “Oh. Right, the Islanders and the Mainlanders. Any clues?”

“Sort of.” Anton rubbed his beard. “Sort of. Now-”

Kal held a finger to his lips. “I think it’s time for a little break. For all of us. I think we’ve earned that much.”

“I…Yeah. Conrad’s going to be arriving at the Red Spines in the next day or so…Perhaps a day just relaxing will be good for us.”

Verona chuckled. “That would be nice. A chance to actually finish my clothes.”

“You’re making clothes?” Rasha asked.

Anton nodded, cutting off Verona’s slightly panicked shaking. “She is. And she’s very good at it.”

Something clicked in Verona’s mind. “Well, since Anton let it out a little early, do you both want to see? The first is almost ready. Ah, a whole day where I can actually work on it with nothing to distract us.”

Cetina and Rasha nodded as the first of the Dark Elf bodies were dragged out. Anton didn’t feel particularly good about his actions but it was necessary. There was no way to keep them indefinitely, and what sort of life would they have led? Stuck in a dark, musty barn, slowly going mad? He didn’t want to ponder upon their thoughts in that place.

Anton placed his arms around Verona and Kal. “Come on. While you show Cetina and Rasha what you’ve been working on I’ll cook us up some early dinner. Something nice, lovely cooked meat…and some baked potatoes and salad for Rasha.”

“Baked potatoes?” Rasha leant forward. “What are those?”

“Haven’t you had them before?” Anton smiled. “I know you’ll love them. All of you, especially with a little bitter of butter to brown them up. Some cheese and bacon too, not so much for those that can’t handle it.”

“Sounds good.” Rasha rubbed her stomach.

“More food from home?” Verona sniggered, worming a hand underneath his armour.

“Yeah. After that, I think I need to get my mind on something different. And I’ve always enjoyed cooking. So, who wants something good to eat?"

Anton began walking before even more bodies came out. The girls were silent for a time before they began chatting merrily about their plans for the winter. It certainly sounded like it wouldn't be the relaxing winter wonderland that they all secretely wanted.

Chapter 162 - Vol 4 - Red Spines

Chapter 162:

Anton, Verona, Kal and Cetina stepped through the portal to South Eastern Qaiviel. A blast of fresh air welcomed them on the other side. The brightness of Qaiviel was a welcome change to the dim light of The Shadow Isles. They stood in the middle of the White Dog Company, stationed to the side of the well-worn dirt road and away from the constant stream of traffic.

“Well, here it is. The Red Spines.”

Immediately Anton understood why it was called so. A line of near blood red, almost vertical spikes soared high to cut through the few clouds hanging in the sky. Between each tall spike was a smaller, squatter spike. At the most southern end were two grey mountains, slightly shorter than the spokes but nevertheless extremely tall.

“No wonder...” Anton mused. “So where are these Orcs?”

Conrad shrugged. “Not quite sure. But the town at the base of the mountain would be the best place to find out.”

At the base of the mountain lay a small wooden walled town, a strangely flat walled forest beyond that. Though the town wasn’t that small there was simply far too much traffic for a town of that size.

“Do they trade with the Orcs?” Anton asked. “There’s far too many people on the road otherwise.”

“Not just the Orcs.” Conrad smiled. “But the Wood Elves too. Have you seen them? They’re absolutely beautiful.”

He smiled at the three girls. “Not that you aren’t pretty but they’re in a whole different league. Even the men…” Conrad laughed. “If I was drunk I might just want to take them home.”

“Are you serious?” Verona raised a brow.

Conrad looked at the other mercenaries. A few nodded very seriously.

“Anton!” A Dwarf approached from the edge of the convoy. He and another nine Dwarves sent to protect the stones had finished speaking with a small caravan leaving the Red Spines, a small wooden barrel underneath their arms. “Are we free to go back home?”

“What have you got there?”

“This?” The Dwarf sloshed one of the barrels. “Some Wood Elven wine. We’ll keep a barrel for you, promise we won’t drink this.”

“Dwarves like wine?”

“Dwarves like all types of drink.” He and the others laughed. “Except something that’s been watered down to be piss weak. The Wood Elves make the best wine…They don’t, but don’t tell them that.”

“And what money did you use to pay for it?” Verona asked. She gripped onto the hilt of her small sword. “You didn’t happen to take it from us, did you?”

The Dwarf laughed, completely unconcerned with Verona’s potential threat. “No. We didn’t make this journey without carrying some coin.”

“And humans pay quite well for our hands.” Another Dwarf smiled. “Better than we are back home at any rate.”

Anton gently nodded. As he pointed to the small town Conrad coughed loudly.

“Unfortunately, Lord Anton, this is as far as we were paid to escort you. So we shall be returning to Alfred, rather I should say, Duchess Belinda’s service. Oh, bring their horses forward.”

Their horses were glad to see them and nuzzled at their necks for a pat and scratch.

“We’ll be fine from here.” Anton held out his hand. “It’s been an interesting time travelling with you and your company. One I won’t forget anytime soon.”

Conrad shook his hand. “Us neither. It’s not every day that we fight for the control of an entire Kingdom. We’ll be kept busy hunting down anyone from the Church of the Holy Father that’s still a threat. Then it’s back to good old Bandit suppression. Nothing fancy but it pays well.”

The Dwarves stepped through the portal, happy to have their fresh alcohol, and Kal retrieved the stones. With a final wave the White Dog’s left them, re-joining the road with some very nervous looking merchants and traders.

“Back on the road again.” Anton chuckled. “It’s been a while since it’s been like this.”

“Yeah…” Verona’s glum face instantly brightened. “It has, hasn’t it? I did like living off the land, eating fresh meat each night. Not so much draining the blood…But that’s why we have Kal.”

Kal sighed through her mask. “I’m worth more than that.”

Anton held her hand. “Sleeping underneath the stars is nice too. Nothing but the sounds of night.”

Verona flashed him a devilish look.

“Come on.” Anton mounted his horse. “I want to see if Lazgar made it.”

They joined the stream of people travelling towards the city. The guards allowed them to pass with barely a second glance. Once inside it was like any of Qaiviel’s cities, what surprised him most was the lack of Orcs. He couldn’t find a single of the giant green-skinned people.

“Any sight of them, Kal?”

Kal shook her mask. “I can’t smell them. But there are a lot of people here.”

“Speaking of.” Verona pointed along the main street, leading straight through the city and out the other side.

Near the far wall, Anton spotted them. Four tall, long blonde haired people stood near the gate while a pair of Qaiviel merchants grovelled at their feet. Though it was a long distance away he could see their long ears, identical to the Dark Elves save for their much lighter skin, poking through their bright blonde hair. They wore immaculate green cloaks, everything was hidden beneath apart from a set of brown leather gloves. Anton couldn’t find their bows or blades, but their cloaks were quite bulky.

“Wood Elves.” Anton murmured. “They look as stuck up as Nithroel.”

The four barely paid the grovelling pair any time or attention. Over and over again the two bowed and appeared to be offering anything and everything for their patronage.

“I want to get a bit closer.” Anton waved to the teeming masses around him. “I can’t hear with this much stuff going on.”

“Pull your cloak up.” Verona reached behind Anton’s back. “They might know what we look like.”

Slowly they moved through the cities inhabitants, they parted for their horses but not by much, until they were close enough to hear without magic. Anton smiled as they had stopped in front of some sort of tavern, the perfect place to stop and gather information.

“Verona?” Anton dismounted, landing heavily on the ground. “Could you take my horse for a moment?”

“I’ll do it.” Cetina took the reins.

Anton moved so he would appear to be searching through his packs and enchanted his ears.

“Please forgive my impudent wife.” The male Qaiviel merchant forced the woman’s head low. “She did not mean to offend your eminence.”

A male Wood Elf scoffed, his pointed nose flicked to the sky. “You are lucky that you have not offended my lord any further. Your breath is enough offence to halt our trade.”

The male merchant covered his mouth. “Forgive me.”

“Much better.” The Wood Elf smiled, though it was drenched in arrogance. “Now, my lord’s previous offer still stands. Are you willing to agree to the trade? Fifty barrels of Wood Elven wine for twenty carts of iron ore?”

Is that a good trade? Doesn’t sound like it, if the Dwarves were able to get six for some change?

“Yes.” The merchant nodded. “The Ertorian brand?”

The Wood Elf snorted in disgust. “Do not even dare try to claim that we are anywhere near as lowly as them.”

He slapped the merchant, hard enough to almost draw blood but neither human moved.

“Forgive me for my impudence.” The merchant desperately resisted the urge to hold his cheek.

“You shall be.” A female Wood Elf said, her tone just as dismissive as her counterpart. “Do we have a deal? Fifty barrels of our wine, not the pig-piss Ertorian.”

“Fifty Celisona barrels will be more than sufficient.” The female merchant bowed. “We will prepare the carts immediately.”

“Good. Leave them at the border, we will exchange the goods there.” The female Wood Elf raised her finger. “Remember not to cross the stone markers. Even if you are killed I will hold your family responsible to fulfil the agreement.”

“Of course.”

The Wood Elves turned without a further word and left. The southern road, leading straight to the forest, was more of a rough depression through the grass rather than the well-worn dirt roads of Qaiviel. Anton removed his enchantment and moved to the end of the horse. The wooden walls had obscured two large stone markers sitting either side of the faint road. Something white glinted in the sunlight. Corpses, riddled with hundreds of arrows. Each lay just beyond the stone markers, none before.

“They really don’t want anyone to pass.” Anton shook his head. “Even if it means insulting a rival kingdom.”

“I don’t think they care,” Verona said dismissively. “They basically beat up that poor man.”

The two Qaiviel merchants watched the Wood Elves leave in complete silence, he didn’t even touch his bruised skin. He leant forward before cracking a smile.

“Yes!” He held the woman’s hands tight. “Those dumb-ass fuckers are actually going to give us Celisona wine!”

“So much money!” She squealed in delight, despite looking in her thirties. “How’s your face?”

“This? It’s fine.” He laughed, checking the Wood Elves were definitely gone. “Let’s get that iron. Those idiots don’t check, just give them the crap stuff. We’ll keep the ore we bought from the Orcs.”

The two disappeared into an alleyway.

“That’s one way to make money.” Anton mused, turning to the girls. “The less we have to do with the Wood Elves the better.”

“I’ll wait here with the horses.” Cetina drew her sword. “You should never leave something as important as a horse alone. Especially here.”

“I think it’s pretty safe.” Anton looked around. “Especially if there could be Wood Elf visitors. Just make sure that no one gets close. Not that there’s many that could take you in a fight.”

Cetina smiled as she fastened the reins to the posts. Anton stepped into the tavern, Verona and Kal close behind. For being early in the morning it was surprisingly busy. Nearly every table was filled, though mainly with frothing beer rather than food. A sharp smell told Anton that some had tried to keep down their food and failed miserably.

“I don’t want to be here.” Kal murmured. “Too many people. Too many drunk people.”

“Wait with Cetina,” Anton said. “We won’t be long.”

Kal nodded. She gave their hands a quick squeeze and hurriedly exited the tavern. Verona shouted as Anton turned back; a drunk man had his hand on Verona’s breast, a deranged smile on his face.

“Fucking hell these are soft-”

Anton smacked his hand away and punched him hard in the side of the head. The drunk man stumbled away, landing on a table before tumbling on the floor. Anton flexed his hand, his knuckles throbbed in pain. Those in the tavern looked at Anton. Verona buried her face into Anton’s chest, he could tell she was putting it on a bit, while giving the man a glance.

“Bastard,” Verona whispered.

“Throw him out.” Someone yelled. “Bastards too drunk to be trying to cop a feel.”

A large man, wearing a stained singlet, picked the fallen drunk man, still dazed from the fall, up by his sweat-stained clothes and dragged him out the tavern. Some laughed but everything quickly returned to normal.

“Sorry about that.” A large man called from behind the counter. Anton approached, Verona tucked safely underneath his arm. “Should have thrown him out yesterday.”

“His money is good?” Anton asked. Verona had to take a stool to properly see over. “Doesn’t look like the sort of person that you’d open a tab for.”

“No. He’s got money.” The barman smiled at Verona. “Don’t worry about him. He’s basically harmless.”

“Only one man gets to touch them.” Verona huffed, folded her arms and rested her elbows on the bar.

“So what can I get for you two?”

“Just water,” Verona said softly.

“A beer for me. Any good?”

“Orc or local?”

“What’s the difference?”

“If you want to get paralytic, like him, then pick the Orc beer.”

“Local then.”

Anton scanned the room as he waited. There were all sorts of low to middle-class people present, a few were drunks like the previous but most were just normal workers preparing themselves for another day. Annoyingly he couldn’t find any Orcs.

“If we were going to find the Orcs of the Red Spines.” Anton began, waiting until the barman showed he was listening. “How would we do that?”

“Your best bet would be to go with one of the mountain traders.” The barman placed two small wooden mugs on the bar. “Those guys over there are about to head up.”

He pointed to a nearby group, drinking heavily.

“Any reason why they’re drinking so much?” Verona sipped at the water. “Looks like they’re preparing for war…Or death.”

“It can be a bit treacherous heading up there.” The barman shrugged. “The past little while they’ve turned even more defensive than usual. Nothing too bad but a few people have been killed.”

“I don’t see anyone talking about the civil war.” Anton mused. “No one really seems to care that the Qaiviel Kingdom has been torn in two.”

The barman shrugged. “Doesn’t really affect us. The war wasn’t going to come here for a long time…And they wouldn’t dare attack the Wood Elves.”

“You didn’t see the things we did.” Anton downed the drink. “Some of the things in Clausonne…So travel is restricted to the Red Spines?”

The barman nodded, glad to shift back to the original topic. “Talk to them, see what they have to say. They might let you travel with them.” He looked them over. “You look like you can handle yourselves. Just be careful that you don’t piss them off.”

“The Orcs?” Verona asked.

“You’ve never had to fight a giant slab of green meat before.”

“Not green.” Verona chuckled. “More purple…”

---[]---

Slowly they trundled up the winding mountain path. Every few steps their horses found another loose stone, sending it tumbling down the mountain. Thankfully the path was relatively flat as it led them between the two grey mountains.

“I’m surprised they haven’t fixed this,” Anton said to the caravan leader. “If it’s so important.”

“The Orcs don’t want to do it. And they don’t want human settlements anywhere near the mountain, even if that means a work camp.” The merchant leader pointed to the burnt remains of a small camp off the main road. “That’s what happens to squatters.”

“This part of the border seems very hostile,” Verona said. “Dangerous to live in.”

The leader shrugged. “They’re both fine. Just don’t break their rules and you’ll barely know they’re there. It’s just these fools that never learn. Well, they do learn…”

Everyone in the caravan shared the same sentiments. Anton looked from their elevated position over the grasslands below; there was more than enough room for the humans this far south. Small villages and hamlets dotted the landscape with room to expand. The burnt camp was more likely a bunch of bandits seeking to rob travellers, though they might have genuinely been innocent people.

The caravan only accepted Anton’s after proposal after paying them a considerable sum. Even so, they were very nervous, given the ease of how easy it was apparently to upset the Orcs, and determined to keep them under control and a very tight leash.

“So where do they live?” Verona asked loudly. “Do they live in the mountains themselves or nestled in a valley somewhere?”

“Can they dig tunnels like the Dwarves?” Kal asked.

“The Orcs have a lot of small outposts and hamlets throughout the Red Spines. We’re heading to the closest, Ozredkig. We can’t go any further. What…What are you looking for there? It would be easier to buy the metal ore back in town. Not to mention you need to bring it back down this path…”

An Ix drawn cart began to shift. The driver whipped the beast to accelerate and pulled it free from the slipping stones.

“Just like that.” The merchant leader breathed a sigh of relief. “And that’s not even full.”

“I hope you get paid a lot.” Verona chuckled.

The merchant laughed, but not as heartily as Anton hoped.

As they reached the top of the ridge the landscape changed. Nestled safely in the shadows of the three mountains lay a veritable oasis, strange but nevertheless enticing. Small trees and shrubs, reminiscent of those on The Shadow Isles yet morphed with something from a swamp, grew around small bubbling ponds, birds and insects fluttered about as they passed through.

“No wonder they don’t want anyone coming through here.” Verona chuckled. “Does everyone else know it’s like this up here?”

“They know something’s going on.” The merchant leader pointed to a large patch of grass above the small ponds. “But they know we’re here too. Just don’t touch anything and you’ll be fine.”

Anton witnessed an eel-like creature move through the water, carrying a rotten piece of meat.

“We didn’t see any corpses in the little camp,” Anton said softly.

“No. And it’s best not to think about it too much.”

Over the next half hour they passed through the strange ponds, the ground and stone changed from grey to red. Everything smelled of rust and iron but there was something else in the red rocks. A different metal that numbed his nose. Every so often he would catch movement in the long grasses. The grasses were more than large enough to hide Orcs, and they were being watched very, very closely. Anton smiled as he realised how they were communicating; faint whistles that mimicked the birds but were slightly different.

“Okay, everyone.” The merchant leader waved his hand high in the air. “Keep your weapons sheathed and your hands where the Orcs can see them. That goes double for you four. I don’t want to get hit with a barbed arrow today.”

Everyone grew more tense as they followed the stone pathway along the south of the first Red Spine. A fissure emerged running down the southeastern side of the Red Spine, carving away almost a third of the giant stone tower. A city lay at the base, nestled safely in the tower. It didn’t resemble any human or Dark Elf city, it looked similar to the Kobold encampment; an outer perimeter of large rough wooden logs hammered into the stone, red rocks added for extra strength, inside lay large circular huts, multiple layers of buildings rose along the red stone wall for over a hundred meters. Green blobs moved throughout the city, Orcs, thousands of Orcs. Anton enhanced his eyes for a moment; they wore a mixture of rough brown cloth and leather hides. The leather looked more like Verona’s armour and appeared to restrict their movements somewhat. Still, even those deep in the city were prepared for battle.

“Everyone just remain calm and take things slow. We’ll be fine.”

How are they going to react when I ask about Lazgar? Well, I do have one person with me that they might mistake for a Clansmen.

“Verona? Make sure your hair is covered. It might make them agitated.”

“Right.” Verona pulled her hood down tight, even her eyebrows were shielded from sight.

Thirty Orcs emerged from the long grasses either side of the gate. Upon closer inspection, the grasses had been planted there for this exact reason. All were males and wore a mixture of leather and cloth armour along with pieces of grass to help them blend in. Though they looked a little silly out in the open Anton wasn’t about to deny he had no idea of their presence.

“Who is this?” An Orc asked, a spectacular specimen of their race. He pointed a wooden spear, tipped with a barbed blade at Anton. “They are different.”

“Yes…” The merchant leader turned to Anton. “They said they had some business with one of you.”

The Orc stepped well around the convoy, the others kept their bows, gnarled and dangerous arrows, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.

“Human’s don’t usually come here.” The Orc stopped before Anton’s horse, levelling the spear at his stomach. “What do you want, human?”

“We met an Orc travelling through the Accursed Forest heading towards the Red Spines. Several hundred Orcs travelled with him. I wanted to know if he made it.”

The Orc scoffed. “Don’t know anything about that.”

He turned to leave, signalling something to the others.

“I know he’ll remember me,” Anton said, the Orc stopped dead. “I healed his brother’s wounds, wounds that could have killed him.”

“Do you think you have a name?”

Here it goes…

“Lazgar.”

The Orc’s hands tightened. Those in the caravan grew incredibly nervous, most broke into a nervous sweat and readied themselves for some sort of fight.

Anton smiled. “I’m sure he’ll recognise me.”

The Orc glanced at the others. They appeared to have no thoughts on the matter.

“Move to the side.” He grumbled. “Let the other humans in. Don’t think they’re a part of this.”

“They’re certainly not.” Anton gently whipped the reins. “We just needed safe passage, so we didn’t trespass.”

They were directed to an area to the side of the pathway as the caravan was allowed inside.

“So are we about to be killed?” Verona asked, still keeping her hood low. “Seems a shame after coming all this way, after doing everything we’ve done.”

“I don’t think so,” Kal said quietly. “If I could show them my face…”

“Better not obscure myself from view.” Anton walked his horse back two paces before the Orcs descended upon him. Not violently but they didn’t want him taking another step. He smiled and waved them down. “Don’t worry. I’m just making sure Lazgar gets a good look at me.”

“You don’t even know he’s in there.” An Orc, not the leader, said gruffly.

“If you had no idea who he was you wouldn’t be doing this.” Anton smiled. “Nor would you have just said that.”

The Orc pursed his lips.

“Actually I didn’t know.” Anton chuckled. “But that reaction just confirmed it.”

Verona rolled her eyes and they waited in silence. The Orcs within the city began to gather towards the front of the city, pointing towards them. Anton smiled and waved, the Orcs grew irritated but he received several waves from the Orc children.

After what felt like an age the gates opened. Another Orc stepped through, far thinner than the others. Anton’s mind clicked; it was an Orc Thrall, the result of the first offspring of a female Orc that was essentially a naturally born eunuch. After the Thrall had been born every child was normal, more like the warrior Orcs.

“Let them in.” The Orc Thrall said. “It…It all works out.”

“You treat the Thralls well?” Anton asked the Orcs softly.

“Why shouldn’t we?” The lead orc sniffed. “They’re flesh and blood, even if they’re not as strong.”

“Better than using them as slaves.”

The Orcs grew silent and angry at his words, not at them, thankfully. Inside Anton saw the caravan, the Orcs loading the carts high with chunks of iron ore. Anton smiled and waved down their worried looks, he hoped that they would still be allowed up here after travelling with them.

Ozredkig was quite the bustling city; hunted animals, slightly smaller than the massive Orcs, were hung from wooden racks to drain their blood, Thralls moved around and delicately skinned the beasts. A normal Orc tried and failed spectacularly, requiring a Thrall to take over and finish the job.

They work together? Thralls are for far more delicate work and would likely stay at home while the other go out and fight and hunt. Makes some sense…But only if it was planned. I don’t see natural evolution doing something like that on its own. Then again there is magic in this world…

Beyond them, the Orcs readied weapons and crafted wood for their city. A small gang of red dust covered Orcs emerged carrying mighty pickaxes, a group of Thralls behind pulling a small cart of Iron ore. The female Orcs, only slightly smaller than the men, weaved baskets and cared for the curious throngs of children. Almost all of their time was spent herding the children.

Slowly the streets began to empty, the Orcs moved away from a group of warriors marching up the street. These were different from the stalkers outside; thick leather armour and menacing spears, clubs and bows. Their escort stopped them as Anton saw a head bob from behind the warriors.

“That’s him.” A male Orc waved from behind the warriors. “There’s no way I’m going to forget that face.”

“That’s a little harsh.” Anton smiled, dismounting his horse alongside the girls. “We only met once.”

Lazgar patted the shoulders of the Orcs. They moved aside but kept their heavy yet crude weapons ready. Lazgar looked far better than he did in the forest; better built, his hair was well groomed and his skin shined with a healthy glow.

“I honestly didn’t think I’d see you again” Lazgar offered his massive green hand.

“I’ve been meaning to visit.” Anton shook his hand, thankfully Lazgar didn’t try and crush his in return. “But a lot of things have happened.”

“Where’s the…” Lazgar looked over them. “The half-breed girl? Did something happen to her?”

Kal waved. “Most humans aren’t ready to see a Beast-kin living amongst them.”

“I’m sure Orcs would be welcome in Atros now,” Anton said, Verona nodded seriously. “Not so sure at the beginning but now…It might have actually helped with the Beast-kin.”

“We still had to come here.” Lazgar smiled. “We belong amongst our own kind. Not that I’m doubting your intentions..."

“It’s fine. Do you have somewhere safe to talk? I want to know what happened to you.”

“This way.” Lazgar waved them deeper into the city. He stopped and tapped the shoulder of an Orc warrior. “Is that alright? I’m sure they’re fine.”

“If they try anything they’ll get a taste of our axes.” The Orc swung his giant axe. “Don’t think they’re strong enough to stop us.”

Lazgar led them through the small winding alleyways up the layers of Ozredkig. Orc children ran over the wooden floors, tired mothers chasing just behind. The children stopped and pointed at Anton, quizzically chatting about his light skin and hair, before their attention moved to the girls behind. The women stopped, their hands flexed in fear and dragged their children away. Lazgar smiled and apologised as he led them up into the buildings above the main city. Wooden beams, supporting the entire structure, were threaded into holes carved into the red stone. A red paste was rammed into the gaps to secure the wood and prevent slippage.

“Here’s home,” Lazgar said, pointing to a building near the top of the Orc city. “It’s a long way down but it’s a lot better than living in the forests.”

“It’s not that bad.” Kal chuckled. “Once you’ve got a safe camp and a water supply it’s pretty easy.”

“Just for one person.” Lazgar smiled. “Not when you’re leading a few hundred people.”

“Are they here too?” Anton asked.

Lazgar pointed to a layer below them. Several Orcs waved back, Anton recognised some of their faces, even the brother that he healed.

“Lazgar?” A female Orc poked her head over a small wooden railing. “What’s happening?”

“Uro, do you remember the humans we met in the forest?”

“Yes…Oh. You made it.” Uro smiled. “Did the wolves attack you?”

“That was something I wanted to ask.” Anton looked at Lazgar. “We did fight them, actually. Darn annoying…Kal had a tooth rip through her foot but she was too tough to tell me right away.”

“I was worried you’d freak out when you saw it.” Kal removed her mask and unruffled her hair. “But I don’t have that problem anymore. Maybe some girl that wasn’t there for your transformation would feel that way.”

Verona shrugged. “Or Rasha. She knows.”

“You remember Batul?” Uro waved her shy daughter forward. “She’s already grown so much.”

It’s been a few months at the most.

Batul had grown, considerably, perhaps half a foot and some decent muscle mass. However, she was still shy and hid behind her mother’s legs.

“How long are they staying?”

“I’m not sure.” Lazgar looked them over. “But I think they can have a drink for now.”

“I’ll get them.” Uro entered their house, Batul close behind. Anton glanced inside and saw their home was carved into the wall for space. “We only have water, is that alright?”

“That’s fine.”

Lazgar brought out enough chairs for everyone and sat down.

“So tell us what happened to you,” Anton said. “You’ve been on the back of my mind for a while now. I wanted to know if you made it alright.”

“There’s not much to say.” Lazgar took his wife’s small earthen cup with grace. “After parting a pack of wolves descended upon us. We fought them off, no one died thankfully, and we made it here. At first, they didn’t want us but we managed to get in.”

“Nothing too much in compensation I hope.” Anton took his cup with a smile. “It wouldn’t be too difficult to take advantage of someone in a difficult situation.”

Lazgar smiled. “Nothing like that. Just that we work with everyone else. They don’t really care that we’re not from the same clan, we are all Orcs after all. Not you…”

“I heard there was something terrible happening in Qaiviel.” Uro passed out the last cup. “Is it over? It’s not coming here, is it?”

“No” Anton scratched his beard. “Well, for now it isn’t. It’s all a bit of a mess.”

“Sounds like you had some critical role in that.” Lazgar chuckled. “You had some fancy magic when we met but that’s not enough to overthrow a Kingdom.”

“He’s a lot stronger than that now.” Kal smiled proudly. “Especially in the last little while. Those books were a great boon for us…Though we’ll now actually have time to study them now.”

“Everything’s done.” Verona drank the water. “That’s not bad…But now we have some time. Time to relax over the winter.”

“Not really.” Anton winced. “We still have Seocuria, the Graterian Royal Academy, the Dwarven Isles, the Mycean City states, the Frindal Emirate, the Holy Kingsland, the Centaur Invasion of Qaiviel-”

Verona raised her hand. “Stop…Can’t we just have a few days to ourselves? I want to spend some time, in our home, with my husband…Not to mention Luna and the Chirok’s.”

“Well, apart from that,” Anton coughed. “I wanted to know what you wanted to do. If you wanted to retake your home, your clan.” Anton smiled. “Maybe by next winter, or the next, we’ll have enough powerful weapons to overcome any threat.”

“Right…” Verona gently nodded.

“I…” Lazgar took a deep breath. “I don’t know. At the time I was furious at what happened to my father. However the journey…Calmed me? I don’t know how to describe it. I still hate them for what they did but I don’t want to threaten what remains of my people. Or my daughter. She’s finally safe…And we have another well on the way.”

Verona chuckled. “Same. I hope it has Anton’s hair rather than my own.” Verona pulled at a few loose silver strands. “This keeps getting me into trouble.”

“If you change your mind let us know,” Anton said. “We can help, but I don’t want to try and force you to do anything. I was also wondering if it’s possible to set up a portal somewhere here. I’d like to trade with the Orcs. Looks like they have a lot of iron ore, ore that we’re going to need in truly great volumes. If the Wood Elves want it then it must be of a good quality.”

“Is that their forest?” Kal pointed to the south.

“Not exactly.” Lazgar stood up, raised a hand to his prominent brow. “You can’t see it but there are a line of these huge stones in the forest. Everything to the north of that is ours, we just don’t go beyond those.”

“Unless you want to be peppered with arrows,” Anton said.

Lazgar nodded. “Yes. Haven’t seen it happen but I believe the stories. Whatever this portal is I don’t think it’s a problem. Is it dangerous?”

“No. It’ll allow us to come and go very quickly, across a seemingly limitless distance.”

“That sounds utterly fanciful.” Uro smiled. “But I suppose it’s possible. You healed Lazgar’s brother without a word.”

“I’ve gotten better since then.” Anton smiled back. “I’d like to buy some Iron Ore before we go…I think it’ll be best if we just go through the portal and bring the horses. Our next destination is probably the Graterious Royal Academy.”

“That’s…” Lazgar stroked his black beard. “I don’t think you’re lying.”

Everyone stopped and looked out over the forest.

“It would be nice to stop and relax for a moment.” Anton held Verona and Kal’s hands. “If only things would calm down for a little while.”

“They won’t.” Verona laughed. “You know they won’t.”

Anton looked over the forest, Nithroel’s forest, and wondered what the Goddess had in store for them next. She had escaped retribution for her actions this time, but Anton was in no position to attack her yet. But that was the most important word; yet. If they could properly replicate and improve the Earth weapons, mass produced with the skill of the Dwarves, no army could stand against them. But those days were still far off, so Anton focused himself on the present. At what the future would hold. No matter what was thrown at them, by Nithroel or anything else this world or any other could possibly muster, he would face it with everyone by his side. Of that he was certain.

Chapter 163 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Flidhor's Frozen Prize

Chapter 163:

Ivano’s feet crunched through the thick snow, his thick fur gloved hands pushed away a particularly large branch, drenching him in wet, sticky snow. The snow began to melt the moment it touched his beard and face, continuing to build upon the previous layers. He shook his head, breaking most free, but the snow continued to fall in light waves so it was rather pointless.

“This is ridiculous.” A voice came from behind. “Utterly ridiculous.”

Arlid and Arvid, the one-armed brothers, followed close behind Ivano, their large axes dragging against the high snow.

“We could be in the warm, out of the snow,” Arvid grumbled, pulling the hem of his thick deerskin cloak tight around his neck. “With lots of food and women…”

“And fire,” Arlid mumbled. He sighed as he looked to his missing arm. “At least we’re not going to lose our other arm….Ivano! How much longer are we going to be trudging through this damned snow?”

Ivano shared their sentiments. “Until we find whatever Borstig’s searching for.”

Ivano nodded to their leader. Borstig, now wearing proper winter gear, carved a wandering path through the snow, sometimes walking directly towards a large tree than deviating wildly. At least he was taking a general direction towards the summit of the mountain.

“Any closer?” Ivano asked. “I don’t want to be in the hills at dark.”

Ivano wasn’t just travelling with Borstig and the twins. Behind the twins, and forming the rear of their small column, trudged Brenna and Snakha. The two were even slower and more ponderous than the twins. Snakha was understandable, Orcs were far larger and bulkier than even the Clansmen, but Brenna was a little more mysterious. He caught a look of annoyance on her face but didn’t understand the source. A moment later he completely understood, when a great weight of snow fell from a tree Snakha brushed up against.

“The voices are much louder.” Borstig sounded extremely happy, jubilant even. “It’s not much further now. I’m sure of it.”

You were sure of that this morning too…

Ivano looked back down the mountain, to the small camp nestled in a clearing to the side of the road. A hundred Fire Blade Warriors waited near a small hot spring, a place where water was hot regardless of the time of year. Not only did it make for a good spot to rest it was one of the few places where animals could graze, though the grasses and mosses were meagre at best. It wasn’t just warriors; Sibbe, his wife, and his three children were travelling with them, alongside another hundred clanswomen; taking care of cooking, the supply wagons and most of the logistical concerns. They were not expected to fight in the same manner as the men but could certainly hold their own. Ivano knew that no self-respecting Clanswoman wouldn’t be willing to fight if the situation demanded it. Erik and the Bebbezzarian slave woman, Unina, were also by Sibbe’s side. He wasn’t willing to leave them on their own, Sibbe was tough but not invincible, but he didn’t want to bring her or their children up this long and ponderous climb to find this mysterious beast.

“I checked with Kollskegg.” Ivano swatted away another snow-laden branch. “And, while he says you’re right, I don’t think Ulfhied’s going to fight you if you’re riding some beast. I know I wouldn’t.”

“No shaman to let the chieftain get a little too drunk this time,” Arlid added softly.

Borstig stopped, resting his hand on the rough bark of a particularly large pine tree. “I…I don’t want to be a Chief. That’s what my father wants…But…” Borstig smiled at Ivano. Not an ounce of warmth came through his face. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“You could live in the lowlands,” Brenna suggested. She kicked at the snow, not that it did any good. “They’re a lot…Well, they’re not as peaceful. Especially with us raiding them. But you won’t have to worry about being a chief there.”

For a moment Borstig appeared to be legitimately considering Brenna’s suggestion. Ivano sighed softly, patted the young man on the shoulder, and pushed him forward. The suggestion did not come up again.

As the light began to shift, light drawing longer shadows from the heavy branches, Ivano began to grow increasingly concerned. To be traversing the snowy wilderness during the dark, especially in winter, was essentially a death sentence for the unprepared. And they were definitely unprepared.

Borstig stopped suddenly. Ivano signalled for everyone to ready their weapons; Brenna drew her sword, nestled firmly inside a thick leather sheath. Unlike the lowlanders the few Clansmen that used swords instead of axes never used metal. Ice, melted from snow on hands, would freeze around the metal, locking it in place. Several Graterian soldiers had met their end that way, Ivano would not forget the utter look of panic, and even betrayal, as their weapon failed them.

"What do you see?" Ivano whispered.

Borstig remained motionless, his eyes transfixed on the snow before him. Red stained the otherwise immaculate white. For a terrible moment Ivano thought Borstig had been struck by an arrow, but it wasn't his. The blood had pooled around a gentle depression in the snow, both fresh enough that the blood was not completely frozen and the snow had not filled it in. Borstig raised his hand and followed a bloody trail deep into the woods. Ivano pushed past the boy, the twins took him to one side, as he followed the streak of blood. The trail grew fainter the further from the attack, the occasional large blotch of blood where the creature had stopped to catch their breath or the victim had simply leaked out more blood from a still-beating heart, until it led deep into a cave leading deep into the mountain. Very little snow had fallen inside. Now the blood simply trailed over the bare grey stone.

"It's in there." Borstig merrily raced to Ivano's side, much to the exasperation of the others. "I'm certain of it."

"It took down a deer in one hit." Snakha ran a large green hand through his thick and damp black hair. "Are you sure you want to try and catch this beast, or whatever it is? It'd be so much easier to actually train you on the way." Snakha smiled, thumping his chest. "I'm a great fighter."

Ivano recalled their first meeting, the brutality that Snakha had shown to a fellow Orc to simply claim something that he owned. Borstig didn't have that temperament, or the physical strength. The boy was rather thin.

"The voices have never been wrong." Borstig's eyes flicked to Snakha. Unlike most of the Clansmen he didn't throw disapproving looks at the Orc, something that had only become far more prevalent after their defeat. "And they're pleading for me to head inside."

"I wonder what it could possibly be." Arvid sighed.

"I wonder if those voices of yours aren't trying to lure us into a trap." Arlid scoffed. "There's not going to be much room in there."

Before further objections could be presented Borstig broke into a run, darting out of Ivano's swipe at his collar, and dove into the cave.

"Shit."

Ivano could think of no better word. If the boy died he doubted his chances of seeing spring, doubly so for his wife and children. He gripped his axe tight and dived into the dark cave, hoping that the creature wasn't waiting for both of them.

After turning a bend in the cave, still within the light of the entrance, he found Borstig. Alive, much to the relief of his furiously beating heart, and resting against the wall, peering into a distant source of light. Ivano was smart enough not to ask the obvious, if only that their voices might rouse the creature, and looked around Borstig's shoulder.

The cave opened up, a stream of light and snow entered the cavern from a hole above. Tree roots hanged limp over the edge, along with a broken log and a gentle sprinkling of light snow. The trees surrounding the hole severely limited the amount coming in.

On the ground, in the centre of the rays of light, rested a series of large rocks. Their tops were smooth, their bottoms rough and sharply edged. Those near the bottom were broken, where they had fallen and taken hits from the rocks above. Small shrubs and grasses, those normally found in warmer areas, like the hot spring, grew in abundance around the stone. Something was keeping the cavern warm, especially with the snow continuing to fall through the gap. The reason was obvious. There was movement on the second layer of broken rocks, at first it had blended in with the spattering of snow but now that it was moving it was much easier to see.

It was a bear, the largest bear that Ivano had ever seen, feasting upon a dead deer. Its light grey fur allowed it to blend in with the rocks and snow, but the blood covering its snout defeated any of the camouflage. The longer Ivano looked, however, the stranger the bear became. It had four arms, each pinning the dead deer, with a band of red running along its unusually long claws. The teeth were much larger than normal along with narrowed eyes.

"Is this what the voices want?" Ivano whispered as softly as he could. "What is it anyway?"

Borstig slowly nodded. "They tell me that if I approach it, it won't attack."

Ivano scouted the cave once more. There were no obvious additional entrances, something that worried him greatly. If the beast thought it was being cornered there was a good chance it would lash out, friendly or not.

"Let me-" Borstig stepped into the cave, Ivano grabbed him by the collar and pulled back hard. Borstig's boots scuffed along the ground, throwing up tiny rocks. Enough to make a noise.

The beast's ears pricked up and towards the single entrance. It continued to eat the dead deer but its eyes were fully focused on them. Ivano knew full well that animals, for the most part, had better eyesight than humans. And yet it still wasn't attacking.

"Why did you do that?" Borstig sounded like a child that had its favourite toy taken away. "It's not going to hurt us. See? It knows we're here."

The beast stopped eating, licked the beads of blood from its face and stared silently at them, resting all four arms over its prize.

Arlid and Arvid neared. Ivano, faintly illuminated by the cavern light, waved for them to be quiet and slow. The twins peered around Ivano, quickly retreating to the shadows the moment after making eye contact with the beast.

“What is that?” Arvid hissed.

“I have no idea.”

Another two footsteps neared, Brenna and Snakha. Brenna didn’t look, picking up on the obvious concern but Snakha moved past. His head bobbed to the side. Instead of darting back he held the beast's gaze.

“Huh.” Snakha rubbed his large chin, picking at his large teeth. “Didn’t think I’d see one so far north.”

“And this is?” Ivano asked, pulling the Orc back into the shadow.

Whatever the beast actually was it remained motionless, its eyes focused upon them while continuing to guard its meal.

“A Bernoth.” Snakha chucked. “A bloody big one too. Just think of a bear, but just a bit bigger.”

“And four arms,” Ivano commented.

“True. True.” Snakha peered around again. “They’re just as aggressive as a normal bear, maybe more so if you’re inside their den. Doesn’t look like it’s a female so there aren’t going to be cubs. Maybe Borstig’s not entirely crazy.”

Borstig smiled, thinking Snakha’s words were completely sincere. Perhaps a little bit was.

“So what do you honestly plan to do?”

Borstig stepped out and into the light. The Bernoth, if that was its true name, pulled itself up, pushing down on the deers’ carcass and spilling its guts. It sniffed at the air, glanced at something obscured by its body, and back to Borstig. To Ivano’s great relief it didn’t launch itself at the boy.

Borstig slowly approached the Bernoth, keeping his hands raised and clear that he could do the beast no harm. For its part, the Bernoth tilted its head and sniffed lightly at the air. Ivano saw something in the Bernoth’s eyes; something was holding it back. Not in body but in mind.

“It’s okay.” Borstig’s boots shuffled across the cavern floor, reaching the edge of the mossy ground. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The Bernoth didn’t look entirely convinced.

“The Demi-Goddess of Beasts told me that you would be here.” Borstig didn’t sound entirely sure. “That you could help me.”

This is insane.

“That we can help each other.”

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Brenna grabbed Ivano’s arm. “If he dies-”

“He’s not going to die.” Ivano drew a blade, the Bebbezzarian jagged dagger.

I certainly bloody hope so.

Suddenly the Bernoth reared up and let out a tremendous roar. All stood still as the creature stood down and pawed at the ground. Borstig continued to approach, raised one hand and spoke softly at the Bernoth. It snorted, great plumes of steamy breath against the snowflakes raining down, and barred its teeth. Borstig waited perfectly still until it became calm again.

“Kid’s got a way with creatures.” Snakha murmured.

Finally, Borstig placed a single boot onto the stone pile. The Bernoth snorted once and lowered its head. Not in an act of submission but like it had found a friend, a member of its pack. Borstig hesitantly reached forward and scratched the Bernoth’s nose. It growled affectionately, pushing its snout closer to Borstig and even tilting up slightly so he could scratch under its chin. Borstig smiled, his shoulders relaxed as the BB relaxed too.

"See?" Borstig smiled back at Ivano. "He's friendly."

"Can you use magic?" Ivano stepped into the light. The Bernoth's eyes flicked to him but made no hostile movement. "Because that's clearly no normal beast."

Borstig continued to scratch its neck as the others moved into the cavern. It remained calm, except when it saw Snakha. Upon laying eyes on the Orc the Bernoth’s hair along its back rose up, its lips curled back but didn't move. A few whispers from Borstig and it had calmed down.

"Your kind hunts these?" Brenna asked Snakha.

Snakha shrugged dismissively. "Sometimes. But mainly because they're in good hunting grounds and have either chased away all the good game or are attacking our hunters."

Snakha eyed of the Bernoth's fur. "They do have some very good hides. Very strong and warm too."

Borstig hugged its neck. "The voices didn't bring me here just so I could have a thicker coat."

"You never have answered who these voices come from." Ivano folded his arms, keeping a keen eye for any hint of movement. "I asked if it was Fliodher, Demi-Goddess of beasts, but you sort of..."

Borstig tilted his head as Ivano desperately searched for a better alternative than simply saying he simply drifted off. As he couldn't think of something nicer he let it drop and continued to look at the Bernoth.

"It...It might be." Borstig looked strangely embarrassed. "I don't know what she sounds like."

"Did Fliodher speak to him?" Arlid asked. "Thought the Gods really only spoke to people, not animals."

Snakha grumbled something, he refused to elaborate, as the Bernoth's ears pricked up and it left Borstig's reach. It moved around the dead deer, perhaps offering it to its guests, before pawing at a stone at the rear of the mound. The stone was unlike the others, not worn by weather and water but sharp angles and flat sides, carved by human hands and not caused by a fall. On the exposed side lay an etching, cut roughly into the smooth surface, of a myriad of beasts, all swarming together and reaching for a common point. A shadowy figure stood there, just the vaguest outline of a huntress with her bow knocked and drawn.

"This..." Ivano pointed to the etching, unwilling to touch it in the Bernoth's presence. "This is what spoke to you? That told you to come here and what, help him?"

Though Ivano sincerely doubted the BB's ability to understand words something got through to its animal brain. It nudged the etching then nudged Borstig with his nose.

"I think that's a yes." Arvid chuckled.

"Will you come with us, Chumny?"

"What?" Ivano said flatly. The others shared his mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"That's his name. Chumny." Borstig smiled, a child wanting, desperate, to be praised.

Ivano sighed. "So long as he's happy with it."

Borstig ruffled the fur along his back, electing a delighted moan as its rear leg rose to scratch its stomach.

"Ivano." Snakha tapped his shoulder. "It's great that we've got this thing but how is this supposed to help. If I was this Ulfheid woman I definitely wouldn't accept a challenge from him."

Arvid chuckled. "She might think it's a trick."

"It is." Brenna quietly added.

"I wonder if it has fleas." Arlid wondered aloud.

Borstig raised his hand, bringing it close to his eyes. He recoiled and desperately rubbed them on the stone.

"That's a yes." Arlid chuckled. "A lot by the looks of it."

"Still doesn't explain how this is going to be useful," Snakha said dryly.

“Maybe we can…” Ivano sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know how Arnkel expects me to get this whole thing to work. Ulfheid can just…”

Ivano rubbed his forehead with both hands. A sense of dejection began to fill his mind, no matter what he thought of it didn’t solve the central problem; Borstig had no hope of defeat Ulfheid, even with the giant Bernoth on their side.

Maybe he…What sort of man does Ulfheid like? Judging by what she looked like I doubt she likes little thin men like Borstig. Although…

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.” Ivano shook his head. “Before then. Ulfhied’s not going to just let us wander about her city and cook us some scheme.”

“Speaking of food…” Arlid whistled innocently.

The Bernoth, or Chumny, perked up at the strange noise, its eyes looked around the cavern, searching for something. Perhaps it thought it was some kind of bird that had flown inside.

“We should head back, before the others decide to come up here, or think we’re dead and head back to Brenningr.” Ivano smiled. “Sibbe wouldn’t let them. Not if they don’t want a beating.”

---[]---

Sibbe stood at the edge of the camp, her arms folded in annoyance. “Ivano. What is that?”

Behind her, Ivano's clung to her pants, scared and more than a little excited by what they found.

"It's what Borstig's been looking for all this time," Ivano said loudly. "At least I think it is."

To his side walked Chumny, the Bernoth walked very slowly to maintain pace. Judging by the tension in its muscles it wanted to break into a run, or even just a fast walk to escape its drudging pace. Ivano had not asked if this was a particularly large or even small for their kind. Borstig, much to everyone's concern, rode on the beasts back, just behind its second set of arms. Its chest was so wide that his legs couldn't wrap around, not even really begin to, so it looked a little strange.

If he rode sideways, like some of the lowlander women, it would be far easier on him.

Ivano pushed away such thoughts, for they led to some unpleasant memories. Screams of horses and the whimpering and pleading of dying women, soaked in their own blood, flashed through his thoughts. He pushed them aside with a smile and let the sight of his wife fill the void. Although she certainly wasn't much happier than the women from his memory.

Sibbe raised a disbelieving brow. "Really? A bear?"

"A Bernoth, actually," Snakha said softly. Ivano wondered if his wife actually heard, she had very sensitive ears some times.

Sibbe held the children back, Ivano wasn't sure if they wanted to run to him or try and play with the giant bear, as the camp slowly took notice. Most simply looked relieved that they had finally found what Borstig was seeking. That quickly shifted to concern when they saw the Bernoth slowly trudging through the thick snow. Ivano saw many resting a hand on their weapons, many of the women looking to their wagons of food.

Sibbe continued to frown, only accentuating the few scars on her face, until Ivano held her in his arms. For the briefest moment she felt angry but it melted away, she pushed her body into his. Ivano would never speak it aloud but she was very soft when it came to him. Their children made noises, pulling hard on her clothes, as if they were feeling left out. Sibbe slowly broke their hug and returned the tugs on their cheeks.

Sibbe glanced at the Bernoth and Borstig, still waiting outside the camp perimeter. "Does it eat people?"

Already her voice was softer.

"Probably." Ivano smiled, much to Sibbe's annoyance. "But...something's different about this one. It's smarter...Or one of the Gods has meddled with it. Either way, I think it's fine. Keep the kids away from it, just in case."

Sibbe glanced down. They did look like they wanted to pet the giant bear.

A bear is just like a giant dog. Not that we had one, but our neighbours did. Nothing like this though.

"So what now?" Sibbe folded her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. "Are we heading back to Brenningr?" Her lips curled up in annoyance. "We still can't go home yet. Not with that pig still watching over us."

Sibbe referred to Arnkel, Ivano's chief. Given that Ivano now led a clan that was probably no longer the case. Nevertheless, the man had taken up residence in a wealthier district of Brenningr and gave no indication that he was planning on leaving anytime soon. He was paying for his own food so there wasn't a drain on the economy, as Gerin would call it. The Bebbezarian captive elected to join them on their strange journey. Otherwise, he was going to be spending the entire winter with no one he knew and, after the harried retreat from Thessos, Bebbezarians weren't particularly popular. Ivano spied him near the supply wagons, arguing with several of the women about something. Whatever it was he wasn't willing to back down even in the face of a dozen angry clanswomen. Something he knew might just make him more than a little popular amongst the single women.

"He's still my chief." Ivano kissed her forehead. "Well, not really. But once we manage to get Borstig ruling the Wind Walkers, how I still don't know, we'll be able to settle down in Brenningr and raise our children. It’ll be safe there, and I’m sure there’ll be lots of children their age they can play with."

Sibbe pursed her lips.

Ivano sighed. "I don't think either of us are going to return back to our house, not the way we would like to."

Sibbe shrugged. "Good thing I managed to give away our animals. I’d hate to think they’d starve or freeze to death while we’re out here.”

“True.” Ivano smiled, remembering the loveable shaggy goats and sheep always eager for food and a good scratch. “Time for thinking about that stuff later. Right now we need to…”

The Bernoth, Borstig still riding its back, began to snarl. The entire camp jumped up, fearing that the beast had turned feral, but its eyes were focused on the road. Something ran along the snowy road towards them. A man, arms and legs flailing wildly throwing up great plumes of snow. He glanced back, though Ivano couldn't hear him he knew he cursed something and continued running again.

"Any idea?" Ivano asked loudly. Though the Fire Blades weren't really his original clan they treated him like he always had been. Those nearby didn't but one did.

"Fish Gutter!" An older Fire Blade clansmen yelled back. "Their village is eight miles to the south!"

"He's run a long way." Arvid frowned deeply.

Sibbe pulled close to Ivano. Everyone knew something was very wrong.

Ivano found their small group of riders, led by the young man that had led the Mord's wife and son to their deaths.

"Head out there and rescue him," Ivano ordered.

The man was almost already mounted, gave a single nod and led his riders through the snow. Their horses weren't as elegant as those of the lowlanders but they were so much stronger. They tore through the calf-high snow with barely an exertion.

"What's happening?" Gerin approached, some of the women were still arguing with him but he paid them no mind. "I thought we were heading east."

Arlid pointed his axe towards the solitary clansmen. "Fish Gutters are fishermen. Not-"

"Ice fishing?" Gerin raised a brow. "We do that in Bebbezzar too. Only in the mountains though."

Arlid grumbled. "Good fishermen, not fighters. You don't see them on raids."

"Good thing too," Arvid smirked. "You lowlanders would all be dead if they used their knives in a fight. Would rip your guts out with just one swing."

"I'd prefer to have to fight none of you," Gerin mumbled.

The riders neared the Fish Gutter but, instead of being relieved, he shouted even louder, furiously waving his hands, urging the riders to return.

"What's wrong with him?" Brenna asked. She looked at Sibbe but neither said anything.

The riders screeched to a halt, great plumes of snow rose into the air, and began to ride back. Ivano grumbled internally but that was cut short by how the very trees began to shake.

A bolt of brown burst from the trees, soaring through the air and cutting clean through the man's torso. The bolt carried him far into the snow beyond the road, smashing and impaling him into a small snowy bush. Only then did blood begin to stain the white snow.

Sibbe pulled close, his children too.

"Weapons!" Ivano shouted. The call wasn't needed, nearly everyone was watching, but his word, and the authority bequeathed to it, breathed a new sense of urgency into their actions.

The riders reached their camp, steamy breath against the cold snow, as the burst with brown boulders. Except they weren't boulders.

"Fucks' sake." Ivano felt his axe lower.

Stone Men, giant lumbering undead, encased in shiny dark brown stone, walked towards them, their oversized axes and sword limp and loose by their sides. Judging by the blood staining each weapon they had already finished off any other fleeing Fish Gutters.

"Same ones as before?" Arlid asked, readying his own axe. "Didn't think they were the vindictive type."

"I don't even know if they can think." Ivano squeezed his wife's hand and gently pushed her back. "But we can't outrun them."

Unlike the last Stone Men these appeared to have a desire other than eating the dead, at least Ivano felt they did. Normally they were slow, lumbering creatures, but someone had put a metaphorical fire in their hearts. Like the rest of their kind, these Stone Men were tall and had very long strides, far greater than any human, covering ground at a surprising pace, but these were almost running.

"Something's got them into a frenzy," Arvid grumbled. “Can these things even think?”

“On some level…” Gerin whimpered. Ivano realised the Bebbezzarian would certainly have never heard of these terrifying creatures, let alone seen a group baring down upon them with bloodied weapons.

Ivano ordered the men to form a defensive line, those with ranged weapons behind, a disappointing few compared to what the lowlanders normally fielded. This wasn't like a charge from the Qaiviel Knights but simply having someone by your side was sometimes more than enough to win the day.

As the Stone Men neared they began to slow, something that Ivano did not expect. The undead creatures formed a similar line, shields at the front with javelins at the rear. Ivano grimaced at the size and number of the shards of dark brown stone.

"It's okay." Borstig rubbed the Bernoth's neck. "It's going to be okay."

Can't believe I forgot about that thing. I would swear that I can feel its breath.

"Don't think your little beast can kill a Stone Man." Snakha frowned at the bear. "Can it?"

"I..." Borstig shook his head. "I don't want Chumny to get hurt."

A hole formed in the Stone Men line and one stepped forward. Though Ivano knew almost nothing about these creatures he could instantly recognize a leader when he saw one. This Stone man was slightly smaller than the others, his armour was the same shade of brown but small green tassels like died, hanged from his ears, a crest of silver over the centre of his helmet. There was nothing else to distinguish him from the others.

The Stone Man snarled, even though all of their lips had receded to always show their yellow and rotten teeth.

“Human!” The Stone Man’s voice was nothing more than a guttural slur, all of their bodies were in a permanent state of decay and rot after all. There was no way their tongues would be unaffected. “Where are the Witches?!”

Everyone’s gaze fell upon Ivano.

Ivano slowly stepped to a position similar to the Stone Man on his side.

“Who am I speaking with?”

I didn’t even know they could talk. Normally you’d just try and eat us.

Ivano really didn’t care but it would not only potentially make a good impression it would buy him time, even if it was nothing more than a few heartbeats.

Witches? Like some old crone? A village healer? Who would be dumb enough to upset the Stone Men? Or…Who would be strong enough?

The Stone Man leader tapped his chest. “Jokulsson, the Seventh Imperator of the Iron Barrow Legions. And the man dishonoured by the treachery of the Clansmen.”

He rested the tip of his stone sword into the snow. “I thought your kind knew to stay away from Eldfjall Trelleborg.”

Ivano cleared his throat. “We haven’t travelled anywhere near your city. Everyone knows better than to go there. And I’m sure you’ve dealt with anyone stupid enough to dishonour you.”

Jokulsson’s face remained perfectly still. Slowly he nodded, not that Ivano could tell what the undead creature thought.

“These Clansmen,” He nodded back to the dead Fish Gutter. “Assisted a Witch in stealing a sacred artefact. Something that we have kept safe from you humans for generations-”

They have children? There are women Stone Men? That must be utterly horrifying…Unless they’re actually just dead humans.

“-For your own good.” Jokulsson snarled. “And now they almost have all of them.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t know what you’re referring too.”

Ivano wanted to simply tell him he had no fucking idea, but he knew it would only enrage the undead creature. A javelin wielding Stone Man turned away and spat something out. Ivano felt conflicted. For one they had some level of modesty, and a desire not to spit on their fellows, but its mouth was covered in fresh blood, strands of flesh stuck between rotten teeth. Fish Gutter flesh probably, judging by the dark markings, tattoos, covering the skin ribbons.

Jokulsson’s face softened somewhat. “So much destruction would be unleashed…And we would be too weak to stop it. But those Clansmen won’t be able to help the Witches anymore, at the very least.”

Does he mean the entire clan or just those they were chasing?

Jokulsson stared at Ivano. “Anyone that works with those Witches, after destroying the vault and desecrating the great tombs, will be destroyed.”

“We don’t know any Witches,” Ivano replied, keeping his voice calm. “Surely not like the ones you are after. Only healers and shamans. No one is stupid enough to try and enter your lands.” Ivano nodded to the dead Clansmen lying behind them, the javelin still pinning him to the ground. “Unless they want to end up like him.”

Jokulsson scoffed, more of a snarl. “We have the Clansmen we hunt.” A Stone Man picked at its teeth, freeing a small toe. Evidently, the Fish Gutters were likely all dead or eaten.

Is this just an advanced force? The fastest of the Stone Men? With thousands more behind? Those poor people, not understanding why these creatures descended upon them.

The Stone Men lines began to break, slowly retreating back along the trampled road. “If you find any Strega Witches, give them to us.”

Jokulsson smiled. “Their sealed lips are no defence against our methods.”

Ivano said nothing, keeping a keen on their Clansmen, as the Stone Men slowly retreated. They retrieved the stone javelin and the body, probably to eat on the return journey, and left them without a further word.

Arvid tapped Ivano’s shoulder, he hadn’t heard the man approach. “We going to see if those Fish Gutters are all dead?”

“Nope.” Ivano rested his axe over his shoulder. “We’re leaving right now. Before they come back and think we’re actually a part of…Whatever it is these Strega Witches are. Ever heard of them?”

Everyone shrugged, except for Brenna. She held her chin lightly.

“Maybe. I think I’ve heard of something like that.”

“Good thing they didn’t hear,” Snakha smirked.

“Maybe my parents mentioned it.” Brenna shrugged. “But that was a very long time ago. Before I went on my first raid. It’s all just a faint memory, but I’m sure that they were speaking with one.”

“Is your family near Eldfjall Trelleborg?” Sibbe asked.

Ivano clapped his hands. “Everyone pack up and get ready to move!”

The camp began to move once again, everyone acted like they hadn’t just come but a few moments from death. Ivano didn’t like his chances against their stone armour. And he didn’t have Mord’s fire axe either, though that was just one weapon.

“No.” Brenna sighed. “Not at all. But…I don’t know. I might be wrong. You want me…Oh.” Brenna laughed. “I can’t exactly go back. Not unless I’m prepared for a serious beating.”

“The further we stay away from that mess the better.” Ivano sighed. He looked at Borstig, still riding his creature, as Eric and Unina began to tentatively pat the beast. It accepted their gentle scratches with a pleasant smile, at least for a giant bear. “Maybe once we’ve got him leading the Wind Walkers we can figure out what any of that was.”

Chapter 164 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - The New Heroes Pt. 3

Chapter 164:

"Good." Taranath nodded slowly at Janet. "You're learning very quickly."

"Am I?" Janet looked to the swirling mass of vines I'm her hands. "I'm having trouble making them do...Well, anything other than just bundle into a ball."

Taranath chuckled, shaking his head. "It takes most Wood Elves many, many winters to learn even the most basic skills. You've been at it only a few days."

Janet seriously doubted if that was the case. She, Dustine, Percy and Sandy could create Nithroel's vines from their own mana, a strange heaviness that permeated every part of their body, after their first attempt. The other New Heroes were rapidly approaching their skill level, especially Jacobs who was essentially at the same level as they were.

"Still no magical bow," Janet mumbled.

Taranath took a step back, a green light grew in his hand as the vines, somehow more vigorous than hers, and formed it into a spear.

"See?" Janet raised her blonde brow. "Easy for you."

"I-"

"Oh no!" Percy cried out.

The mass of vines in his hands erupted in growth, tripling in size before he managed to bring it under control. Taranath held his spear ready to attack, hopefully the mass rather than Percy. He smiled awkwardly as he let the mass drop. The vines lost their vigour but refused to dissipate.

"Sorry." Percy hung his head low. "I thought I had it."

Taranath relinquished his near fighting stance. "You almost had it, at least the right amount of mana."

Taranath leant down to the mass before stabbing it with his vine spear. Both disintegrated into thousands of bright green lights.

"Keep trying." Taranath smiled. "You'll get there. Just try and keep the shape as you pour mana into it."

Magic, as it was known in this world, was...different than what she was expecting. Forming and controlling shapes, essentially within your mind was a far cry from the witches hats, staffs, mountains of books and mathematical formula she had anticipated. Apparently those existed but the Wood Elves eschewed such things, dismissively relegating them to the lesser races. Janet’s questions normally went unanswered, even from Taranath.

"There we go." Taranath approached Dustine. Her face trembled from exertion but she had, hovering above the glowing green circle, a bundle of vines gently swaying back and forth.

“Excellent.” Taranath didn’t appear to want to interfere too great, lest she lose control. “You’re doing very well.”

“Thanks.” Dustine smiled awkwardly. “It’s like the magic…thing is trying to escape. Like a bunch of eels.”

“All type of magic, the humans call it Glyph Magic, is slightly different.” Taranath began. “Some feel very similar, like Fire and Lightning, but then others can be absolutely different. Water, Earth, Light, Blood-”

“Blood?” Janet asked.

“Yes…They are a special breed of magic users.” Taranath smiled. “Normally they’re pretty strange but I’ve known a few that weren’t completely psychotic. Just don’t let them drink blood. Even I’d have trouble with a powerful one when they’re consumed by the blood rage.”

“Magic is such a strange thing.” Janet murmured.

Taranath clapped his hands loudly. “Okay everyone. Time to stop. There’s no point in working until you drop, though we are starting to run out of time.”

“Physical exercise?” A guard Woof Elf, wearing resplendent golden armour, leant into Taranath’s ear.

“After they’ve had a little rest.” Taranath nodded glumly. “While they might not have magic ready before the time we’re ready to depart they at least need the strength to defend themselves.”

“What do you mean?” One of the New Hero Elves asked. Janet still didn’t know her name. After the death of one of their number most retreated mentally, despite Taranath’s urging to get along.

At least we’re still talking.

“In a few days, the majority of us will be leaving for the front, near the Shifting Isles. You will see what we fight with your own eyes. Something that I’m sure will convince most of you to put some effort into your training.”

“You said most,” Jacobs asked. He and his gang continued to do well, comparatively, but only due to the fear and intimidation that he continued to exude. Even the pretty face of the Wood Elves, no longer filled with scars and rotten teeth, couldn’t hide his most inner emotions.

“Several of you have been called away for a special mission.” Taranath clicked his tongue. “Think of it more of a diplomatic mission than something where you’ll be fighting. The Wood Elves, for all our strength and glory, aren’t as united as you’d think.”

Armoured Wood Elves descended upon their group and began to her most away, except Janet and her group. Jacobs looked on rather confused but let it drop, Janet knew that he wasn’t sure which was worse but heading to a battlefield was probably the worse of the two options.

Taranath waited until everyone else was long gone before speaking.

“Obviously it’s you four. You will be leaving this land for one beyond the seas.” Taranath raised his hand. “But…There is something that you need to do before you go. Apparently. It’s not my decision.”

“Aleruia?” Janet asked.

“Actually no.” Taranath smiled. “Not this time. She’s been very quiet and well behaved since I told her off. Despite being her father’s daughter the King still listens to me, especially when I told him what was happening.”

“I thought she would have wormed her way into his ear,” Dustine said softly.

“Perhaps one day.” Taranath shrugged. “But not today. It was actually our Goddess, Nithroel, that wishes to speak with you.”

“The person that brought us here?” Dustine asked. Her hands were scrunched in anger.

“Yes. You haven’t met her in your dreams yet?”

All four shook their heads, Janet was glad that she wasn’t the only one left out.

“Well, there are ways to communicate with the Gods in the physical world. Nithroel, as one of the most powerful, can come into the physical at specific locations. We are very close to a small sacred spring where she can be communicated with. Many of the women go there to pray to her, so they may be blessed with children.”

“So…Do we go now?” Janet asked.

Taranath nodded. “Yes. The ships will be leaving very soon. However, I don’t know what Nithroel will want from you. It shouldn’t be much since she knows you’re still training. And you’re doing very well.”

“She brought us here without our consent,” Dustine said.

“And put us into bodies that aren’t ours.” Sandy flexed her hands. “Whose body am I currently in? Who had to die to do this?”

Taranath fell silent.

“Was it willing?” Janet asked softly, hoping that it was.

Taranath refused to answer and ushered them to follow.

---[]---

Taranath led them out of the city and deeper into the forest. Despite the diming light, the trees and vegetation growing thicker and more wild, they could still find their way through thanks to a very well maintained path flanked by small glowing pink flowers. The bushes were very small but judging by the distance between each plant they had been placed with deliberate intent.

“Those looking to have a child will pick those flowers.” Taranath slowed, picking a single glowing pink flower. “I don’t think it works but it gives the women hope.”

“How hard is it to get pregnant?” Dustine asked, immediately regretting her choice of words. “I mean, it’s not that hard for humans. Happened…Happened a lot more times than I’d like.”

Dustine caught Janet’s eye. “I got a little lax at times. Sort of…”

Dustine looked to Percy and Sandy, following at the rear. They were both very young, even if their current bodies didn’t reflect their mental age.

When do children start learning about that sort of stuff anyway? I’ve heard it’s been getting younger and younger but when I was young…

“A baby is a very special thing in our society.” Taranath continued, holding the flower’s stem tight in his fingers. “Not that it isn’t in a human’s or a Dwarf’s. But even compared to those short beards ours are very few and far between. Those that were killed by the Demons will take hundreds of winters to replace.”

“That long?” Dustine asked. “Wait…How old are those children then?”

“Forty or fifty winters?” Taranath continued walking while Janet and Dustine remained stuck in place by shock. “I suppose that seems odd for humans, former humans, but it’s quite quick. I’m one of the oldest Wood Elves and even I think I’ve seen far too few.”

Taranath took a deep breath of the flower before tossing it far from the path.

“Did…”

“Did I what?”

Janet signalled for Dustine to remain with the twins.

“Did you lose someone?”

Taranath’s eyes tried to pierce through Janet’s, he wasn’t angry but something else. A level of judgement perhaps.

“I did. My wife.” Taranath sighed. “A very long time ago. Probably longer than you could imagine. She died peacefully but…”

Taranath shook his head. “It’s painful to think about it.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Janet said. “I just thought you looked a little sad when you held that flower.”

Taranath smiled. “They were her favourite.”

He nodded at something in the distance, the sounds of trickling water and the chirping of small birds. A small shrine situated around a small spring lay before them; a small semi-circular crystal clear pool surrounding a stone pillar from which the water cascaded over the rough stones and gently splashing into the pool. Marble pillars, with great vines bearing green and blue fruit twisting around the pillars, surrounded the exterior of the pool with large glowing orange crystals on top. Small birds darted between the flowers, frogs croaked at the edge of the pond while insects darted above them.

“This is beautiful,” Sandy whispered, shying away slightly when Taranath looked back to her.

“It is…” Dustine frowned. “So what’s that?”

Lying just before the central rock pillar, partially submerged in the water, was another marble block. However, it was large enough to hold a person lying down.

Taranath coughed. “It’s a place where women can try and ensure their conception results in a pregnancy.”

“What?” Percy frowned and tilted his head, Sandy mimicked her brother’s expression.

Janet understood, so too did Dustine.

“Is that something your Nithroel approves of?” Janet asked. “Doing that right here, in this beautiful place. Where she can apparently watch that happen?”

Taranath shrugged. “She’s never actually here for it. But…It’s best not to think about it.”

“Hang on.” Janet reached out for Taranath, but the elite soldier instinctively moved from her reach. “Does it always happen here?”

“Normally a shrine like this. But it doesn’t always guarantee a pregnancy.”

“But if it’s…performed outside of one of these, can they get pregnant?”

“Not normally.” Taranath approached the edge of the pond. “Most of our communities gather around these, they’re extremely difficult to create, let alone finding a location where one can be built.”

Seems like a very good way to keep control. Any Wood Elf society that goes against Nithroel can’t have babies. They would simply be whittled down to nothing. Sounds something like the Nazi’s or the Soviets would do.

Taranath’s hands glowed bright with the normal green light, the orange crystals began to change and match the green light.

“I’ve called Nithroel.” Taranath began. “You aren’t strong enough yet to summon her on your own. But this conversation isn’t for me.”

“You’re just going to leave us with a Goddess?” Dustine asked.

“You’ll be fine.” Taranath held her shoulder. “A Goddess like Nithroel, although more than powerful enough to take on any other God by herself, is still extremely limited in our world. That being said you should do your best not to offend her, you might just get a boon of some sort. Perhaps magical weapons or armour, better than anything you could hope to find outside of our own royal treasury. So-”

“Be nice and polite,” Janet said. “But I don’t think we’ll be grovelling beneath her either.”

“Good.” Taranath stepped away as the pool began to glow brightly. “I think she needs people that aren’t just going to bend to her every thought and whim.”

Janet felt a rush of fear shoot down her spine as Taranath completely left the small spring and beyond their sight. The others pulled closer as the water flashed green and something appeared on the marble plinth. Out of the green light, a bundle of vines emerged, forming a giant flower pod. As it unfurled a woman sat inside, a mature version of Aleruia with long flowing blond hair, high cheekbones, an incredibly thin and revealing dress, all swirling together with an incredibly haughty and superior look.

“Greetings Heroes,” Nithroel spoke with a soft voice that echoed with a light ethereal tone. “I am glad to see that you are doing well, even though so many of your companions are struggling so hard to understand my blessings. You four have a decent understanding, especially with so little training.”

Janet took a step forward as no one else was willing to speak first. “Thank you, Nithroel. We have done our best. But…Why did you summon us?”

Nithroel’s thin golden brows furrowed. Her back straightened, she folded her arms underneath her voluminous breasts but said nothing.

“Surely there are better warriors better than us? We don’t know how to fight, our world was relatively peaceful so…”

“Are you displeased with your new bodies?” Nithroel appeared to not understand Janet’s concerns.

“No. I was an old woman. But they were children.” Janet pointed to Percy and Sandy. “Their minds took a long time to adjust to their new limbs.”

Nithroel crossed her legs, allowing the thin green material to ride high up her hips. Though Janet didn’t favour women over men she found her eyes unable to deviate from the flawless skin on her legs, the perfect amount of softness and muscle-

“And you sacrificed so many of your Wood Elves to bring us here.” Janet focused herself from Nithroel’s body and onto her face. “Why?”

Nithroel sighed and slipped from the plinth and into the crystal blue water. The water only reached her middle calf, the long green dress draped over the surface but she was completely unconcerned.

“Those Wood Elves gave their lives willingly.” Nithroel leant against the plinth. “Your bodies were destroyed in your old world, I’m sure you remember the mangled mess of metal and fire.”

“You saw the bus crash?” Dustine whispered. “How?”

Nithroel smiled, one that Janet had no idea if it was genuine or not.

“We have our ways. We needed to bring souls through the veil between worlds, so they could absorb magic, more magic than even the most powerful mage could possibly hope to achieve.”

“So why not our old bodies?” Sandy asked. “I…I remember that we weren’t in these.”

Sandy held her elven hand up, staring intently at her fingers. Though Janet had never seen either twin before waking up in their new bodies she had no doubts it was still a continuous shock to wake up in a different body. Janet was simply glad to no longer have aches and groans.

“Because your old bodies simply cannot use magic.” Nithroel began to scratch her chin, holding her left elbow with her right hand, pushing her chest up. “It’s not like we haven’t tried before but they simply can’t, and if we were to force a soul laden with power into your old body you would simply explode…Unless…”

Nithroel frowned, her eyes darting across the water but at nothing Janet could discern.

“Unless?” Janet asked softly.

Nithroel shook her head. “It is not important. Just know there is simply no way to regain your old forms.”

Nithroel effortlessly jumped backwards onto the marble plinth, the wet ends of her dress slapping on the white stone. “I thought you would be happy, human bodies degrade and break so easily. Not compared to my Wood Elves.”

Seems like your magic, or whatever it is, has something to do with that.

Janet smiled, forcing aside her concerns. “I do enjoy not having to wake with pains and stiff joints.”

“I am glad.” Nithroel smiled. “Not even the oldest of my Wood Elves have that to worry about yet. But we have salves and ointments should that become a problem.”

Nithroel laughed. “I wonder if they’re still any good.”

“If none of your Wood Elves have ever lived that long how would you know?” Dustine asked. Nithroel’s face dropped slightly. “If…If they…”

Dustine quickly trailed off as Nithroel slowly grew angry.

Not angry. Distressed? Because they shouldn’t have something for old age if they haven’t ever turned that old? Does that mean anything?

“Taranath said you wished to speak with us.” Janet began quickly. “Something about travelling beyond this continent.”

“Indeed.” Nithroel nodded, the goddess visibly glad to be on a different subject. “Though the Demon’s are the greatest threat this world, and my Wood Elves, face, there is another that brews and festers on the far side of the world.”

Nithroel waved her hand, a vine grew from the ground and formed a large square. Small flowers bloomed, releasing bright pollen that only fell inside the square.

“A map?” Percy said aloud.

“One of my many abilities.” Nithroel smiled at the young boy. “Should you continue to train something like this will…I wanted to say child’s play but that’s definitely the wrong expression with you. I do often forget that you aren’t several thousand winters old.”

The pollen shuddered and created an impressively accurate map with everything, even to the different types of terrain, clearly displayed.

“Currently you are here.”

A large continent on the western side of the map flashed, followed by a much smaller pin-prick inside a gigantic forest that spanned almost half of the continent.

“And the problem is far away, right over here.”

This time a land mass on the far east, almost circular, glowed brightly.

“Here something stirs.” Nithroel frowned. “Something that should have been destroyed long ago.”

“But we are just four.” Dustine winced as Nithroel’s piercing gaze focused on her. “What can we possibly do that elite warriors cannot?”

“As of now, nothing.” Nithroel tapped the pollen map, to the south of the glowing landmass. “Though most of the Wood Elves live on our continent there is still one Dynasty that remains overseas.”

Nithroel’s lips curled up. “Lingers is perhaps the better world. They were conquered by a human empire long ago, but now they are once again free and listen to my words.”

“I take it they have one of these sacred springs?” Janet weakly waved across the shrine. “Otherwise they would have died out.”

“The United Empire destroyed all but one.” Nithroel smiled. “My people hid it well, that damned human empire was very thorough, but not entirely.”

“And…”

“You are to travel to these lands and deal with the issue that’s building there.” Nithroel sighed at the map. “I’ve had some difficulties in this region, my enemies have managed to limit my range…But the Oranthas Dynasty can still operate in the area.”

Nithroel waved a hand over the map, the pollen changed the image to twenty small flat stones with a red marking on one side.

“These stones…These stones look unassuming and unimportant but they bristle with magic that’s beyond our creation. Something old. Extremely old. Something from the beginning of time.” Nithroel shook her head. “That stupid girl…If all twenty are brought together a ritual can be performed. One that will bring about destruction on a scale far greater than the Demons. Or even what all of us are capable of.”

“A bunch of stones?” Percy softly asked.

“Yes.” Nithroel waved the map again. “Most have been collected by a coven of witches…And even I have no idea where they are hiding. Their magic is great enough to hide from my sight, they are incredibly sly creatures. But, but if one stone is kept separate the ritual cannot be enacted.”

Most people wouldn’t want the world to end, unless they’re completely crazy.

“The obvious question needs to be asked,” Janet said. “Four fresh warriors? That’s what you want to send to stop this gathering of stones?”

Nithroel sighed, a hand delicately rubbing her temple. “The Oranthas Dynasty feel…marginalised. They won’t move unless I send someone of note. And four of the best Heroes we have will be more than enough.”

The map returned to the vine square.

“Though their forest is safe, relatively, the land beyond is extremely dangerous.” Nithroel smiled. “If you thought the small Goblin nest was an issue you haven’t seen anything in the remains of the Kar Kingdom. Well, it’s called that for now…”

“They were scary enough.” Sandy mused. “How many are we talking?”

“Thousands.” Nithroel splashed into the water. “Tens of thousands of the little creatures. The little slobbering, mutant monsters. All seeking to attack and destroy you.”

Nithroel slunk through the water, crouching down slightly as she raised her hands to mimic the Goblins. “Skulking through the bushes and grasses, stalking your every movement as they wait for the perfect moment to strike.”

Nithroel smiled before returning to her plinth. “I have finally discovered where one of the stones lies and I believe we can secure it before the Witches get their gnarled old hands on them. They…” Nithroel coughed lightly. “There is a mine, operated by both the United Empire and the Kar Kingdom, sixty-four miles south of the old capital of Surdon. That is where one of the stones has been hidden. However, the Goblins have used it as a nest for some time now, led by a very large number of Blacks, so at least twenty to thirty thousand of the little creatures. Easily. I want you to travel with the Oranthas forces, retrieve the stone and bring it back to their capital. They have the abilities to shield and lock the stone away from anyone. Nothing less than a hundred of the best mages could have a hope of even cracking it open, and not even they could open it once shut. Do that and a massive threat to this world will be extinguished.”

Janet looked to the map. There were clear lines, borders, between the Kar Kingdom and the Oranthas Dynasty but it wasn’t the only territory on the map. Either side lay the Qaiviel Kingdom and the Graterious Empire. Janet knew it was safe to assume these were human lands.

Perfect places to hide, places beyond Nithroel’s reach, especially if the Oranthas Dynasty didn’t obey her with a fanatical drive.

“Alright.” Janet nodded. “We’ll go. Do we leave now?”

“Yes.” Nithroel waved away the vines, retreating back to the bundle at the feet of the plinth. “The trip will take some time but the Oranthas Dynasty simply won’t move without you. I’ve organised the fastest ship possible.”

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” Percy whispered to his sister who promptly elbowed him in the side.

“A ship,” Nithroel corrected, raising her index finger. “Not a boat. But Taranath, lovely Taranath, spoke true about one other thing. Using the equipment you have right now is a near-guaranteed way to get yourselves killed.”

Nithroel waved her hand over the water, four spots began to glow bright green as a vine pod rose from each light.

Just like the pod that allowed Nithroel into the world the four unfurled, four golden swords and a set of light armour, not a complete set like the guards wore but enough to keep the most commonly hit places safe.

"Take these." Nithroel beckoned them forward. "They are imbued with magic and strength beyond what most would see in their entire lives, and that means Wood Elves too."

When it became clear Nithroel was waiting on them Janet, as the eldest, took the gifts first. Despite clearly being a type of metal the sword essentially was weightless, so too was the armour. The tiny scales clinked as it folded around her hands.

"Take very good care of these," Nithroel said as they took their weapons and armour in turn. "I do not give these away lightly."

"We will return them upon completion of our mission," Janet said.

Nithroel dismissively waved her hand. "Keep them. They are my gifts to you. I wish you all the best. Return safely. Please."

The vines grew around Nithroel completely before collapsing in a heap and slinking back into the water. A few seconds later there was no evidence that anything had transpired: the pollen had dissipated on the winds, the crystals on top the marble pillars reverted back to a soft orange and the water regained its crystal clear blue.

“Did that just happen?” Dustine asked, holding the sword high. It was relatively unremarkable, baring the incredibly sharp edge. Janet touched it with her finger, instantly regretting it as droplets of blood rained down and stained the water.

“I suppose we’re leaving this land.” Janet smiled. “And if we were to get lost on the return trip we might find our way into human lands.”

Dustine understood immediately, Percy and Sandy took a few seconds longer.

“We’d better tell Taranath that we’re going.” Janet trudged her way out of the water, holding the gifts close.

“What about the Demons?” Percy asked. “If…We’re going away for a while what’s going to happen to them? Everyone else, I mean. They’re going to be fighting those big…”

“Lava dogs.” Sandy quickly added.

“That’s their problem.” Janet smiled as she saw Taranath approaching along the path. “But I’m sure that Taranath will make sure they’re looked after.”

Janet looked down to the golden armour and sword.

I wonder if these were already placed there, was Nithroel even an illusion? We’d better not speak too loudly near these things, just in case.

Taranath waved as he began to slow.

I’m sorry, Taranath, but we want nothing to do with your war. The first chance we get we’re going to make our escape to the human lands. And finally find out what’s happening to us all! I just hope that we can actually make it.

Chapter 165 - Vol 4 - The Pantheon

Chapter 165:

Ghenadie ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm his nerves. Red crosses completely covered the map before him. Not a single point remained under their control. Not a single Island. Things had gone poorly in The Shadow Isles, no way around that, but it shouldn’t have collapsed so spectacularly.

“Is there a problem?” A sweet voice called from across the table.

Eluria, the self-proclaimed Strega Witch smiled unnervingly sweetly at him. She glanced at the map, seemingly without a care in the world.

“I think it ended quite well, all things considered.”

“All things considered…” Ghenadie closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He couldn’t afford to look weak or vulnerable in any sense in front of this witch, especially one that could control the mind so easily. “Can you explain to me what you mean by that?”

“You have lots of Ancient Essence, far more than you would have without attacking The Shadow Isles.” Eluria glanced to the far side of the room. “And you managed to rescue something rather valuable.”

Behind Ghenadie stood the deformed Red and the gargantuan Black Goblin. They were the only thing worth taking from their failed defence in The Shadow Isle, apart from the Ancient Essence, obviously. Both stood perfectly still, the Black had a tiny line of drool running down the corner of its mouth while the Red’s eyes glanced to it. The Red wanted to remove it but Ghenadie hadn’t permitted them to move. There was something about this Red, a Red that had survived being born deformed, that intrigued him; it had tried its best to defeat the Dark Elves but there were just too many threats to fight, especially when the Dark Elves united and those strange mages arrived.

Eluria shrugged. “And now you know the effectiveness of my drug.”

Ghenadie glanced at the large leather bag resting on her hip. Despite his best effort, she took the thing with her everywhere, literally everywhere.

“Any chance of giving us the recipe? We could make an even larger army with that.”

Eluria chuckled, a mockery of a sweet and innocent woman. “No. If I didn’t what use would you have of me? No, I’m going to stay around a lot longer. Besides, you now know how many you can create with this. At least now some of their wretches have an actual purpose.”

“I…” Ghenadie shook his head. “Fifty Goblins is certainly an efficient trade for two.”

The room fell silent. From the open, shattered, glass window Ghenadie could hear the construction and training efforts continue without end. He gently thumped the table with his fist and walked to the edge. Below him, Surdon writhed with activity. The city, once nothing more than a dilapidated rotting husk after the fall of the Kar Kingdom, was growing into something infinitely more magnificent. Every building, except those in the innermost wall, had been torn down to create housing more befitting the lesser needs of the Goblins. In the distance, a new forest, cutting through abandoned plantations and crops turned wild, disintegrated before their eyes, raw fuel and material for their war machine. Everything was running smoothly but Eluria’s words were grating against his every thought.

Has she corrupted me? I cannot let our grand mission be foiled because some stupid witch interferes with us, with her own stupid desires for revenge.

Ghenadie touched his charm and searched within himself for the Strega’s tell-tale green smoke. Finding nothing he was confident Eluria had not tried anything, today at least. During their first meeting, she tried no less than four times. He checked everyone else present, even the Graterian girl. None held any corruption. For a witch she was being very amicable.

“Your little city is grand.” Eluria leant against the opposite wall. “For Goblins…You should really try something better. Something a little stronger.”

Ghenadie sighed, running his fingers lightly over the shattered edges of the window. “The Ghlotsm are too far gone to control right now. Like a mind turned soft. But once the pantheon returns, then it will be a different story.”

Ghenadie turned to the red. “For all of them.”

“If they do you will die.” Eluria flicked her hair. “The Ancient Gods don’t exactly like civilised creatures.”

“Exactly why I am confused you’re helping us.”

“I told you, plain and simple revenge.”

“It’s still a very overly complicated method to enact some petty revenge.” Ghenadie glanced at Eluria, she wasn’t angry though she could be hiding it. Women could always do that well.

“You should have moved against Atros.” Eluria glanced to the north. “I told you to attack immediately.”

“If you’d told us that he was operating in The Shadow Isles, and could somehow return to Atros with but a snap of his fingers-”

“He’s using Tethra’s magic to create a crude Jump Gate. He’s circumventing a lot of work, but there are consequences.”

“Losing magic?” Ghenadie raised a brow. “Bodily corruption or degradation?”

Eluria chuckled. “No. Just distortion and dizziness. But since they’ve cast very little in the way of protection it shouldn’t take me long to break them.”

“Then-”

“If I were to do that I’d alert Ferula. And then I’d be killed. I might wound her but she’d slaughter all of you, especially if she brought her followers too. So I must leave it alone, for now at least. So long as I stay away so will she.”

Ghenadie looked out the window again. His eyes caught something as it trailed down, something white buffeted against the wind. A snowflake, the first of the coming winter.

“The moment the snows have receded we will launch our assault on Atros.”

“It may be too late by then,” Eluria spoke softly.

Ghenadie shrugged. “We can’t stop the snows, not even you can. We’ll continue to build and march the moment the snows melt. By then we could have hundreds of thousands of Goblins, all armed with metal weapons. Imagine the Kingdom’s and Empires quivering in their cities.”

Eluria looked out the window in silence. The snowflakes began to fall in greater numbers now, almost able to build up a complete layer before melting away.

“What about that mine you were talking about?” Eluria asked, tapping a finger against the wall. “Bale Fire Mine, or whatever it’s called. Isn’t that important? Surely you want that under control before the snows really start to fall.”

She held her hand out to catch a single snowflake. It melted upon contact, forming a small droplet.

“Not anymore. We’ve finally broken into the vaults.” Ghenadie smiled. “Damned thing. The Kar Kingdom built them well, even had some nasty Dwarven locks. Adamantium! Completely made out of that metal. How much did that cost? If they’d spent that money on their army…But now we have all the money we could possibly need. No tool or piece of equipment is out of our reach. And it won’t attract attention, unlike stealing thousands of hammers-”

“Can Goblins even use human tools?” Eluria chuckled. “They can barely use wooden spears.”

“Though it won’t be as good as a human’s it’ll be more than enough. More than enough to overwhelm this little Atros.” Ghenadie couldn’t help but smile. “Who knows where we’ll go next? It may have taken a hundred generations but perhaps I will finally be the Great Seer to see Trellos reborn. The entire Pantheon reborn."

Ghenadie gripped hard onto the shattered glass window. Eluria frowned in worry as blood leaked from his hand, running down the window. But Ghenadie didn’t care. The mere thought of their success dispelled all pain. He looked at Eluria, a wild smile on his face. “And. It. Will. Be. Glorious!”

Update!

Hello everyone!

First up, I'd like to thank white_rabbit for bring something to my attention. Apparently someone lifted my story wholesale and put it onto Amazon. However it was reported before I could see it and the link that I was given is dead. So a massive thank you to whomever reported it. Got more than a little flustered when I saw that and I hope it doesn't happen again. (Also it would have had really bad grammar at the beginning, the word alot comes up frequently). So, with that hopefully sorted for good, we can move on to what's happening.

Arcs 2, 3 & 4, are going under heavy scrutiny and editing. It's very draining as I have to go line by line and check that it makes sense, not only as an independent sentence but also so that the characters aren't acting odd. It's a little tricky to remember how people acted at certain points, so that people don't start talking like they would 50 chapters from then. But it's going well, sort of. Got a few completely done and fully formatted.

That brings me to Arc 1. The problem child. It's the source of no small amount of grief, the main source of the negative reviews (I completely understand and accept them, and without those I'd have stayed at a relatively poor level of writing). They're also the source of many questions: why doesn't Anton use Tethra's power to make himself stronger or smarter or download some knowledge? The strength one can still be done, healing muscles so they recover quickly, but knowledge and whatnot can't. I'm my mind I'm certain I said it wasn't going to happen but never wrote it down so the question simply went unanswered and I had to respond to the comments rather than it already be answered and someone just missed it.

There's also the issue with Atros itself. As many have pointed out, in the beginning they act kind of dopey, putting it politely. Their village is a mess, no one has an issue with that, but it's like they haven't has basic thoughts like building a steep ditch or pooling their resources to try and survive. Like they were waiting for Anton to give them the ideas. Also the plot is kind of silly and the reason for people fighting against one another in a time of true peril doesn't make sense either. So here's the new general overview:

- Beginning is the same, better written of course. Anton and everyone is killed and brought to this world. Anton gets left behind and gets the same powers. Told that he cannot abandon the village he wakes up in. (That's because of Kal, dark Elves and the dwarves but he doesn't know it yet)

- Anton is viewed well but a decent percentage of Atros wants to flee using Anton as a battering ram through the Goblins and other nasties. It is Anton's main function, to give the people some breathing room to recover and actually get ahead.

- A more natural and less forced introduction to the important people of Atros. Especially Anton and Verona's relationship which is quite poorly done compared to the others. Starts off as playful banter, something for both of them to keep their minds of their reality (Anton being stuck in a different world and Verona having just witnessed her parents deaths a few days before Anton arrived)

- Anton doesn't really give them ideas but helps keep them safe and adds a little of Earth's engineering to Atros. Build things like walls, basic spears and armour and slings, basic drills and strategies, and infrastructure like fixing roads and finishing a simple windmill. (Things like that were never really addressed until sometime in the second arc)

- Anton practices magic when he can. Easily discovers the sphere, receives help from Esperit to make the ring. Tries to form a sword, magic refuses to hold shape. Forces it and suffers terrible backlash: skin erupts in flame, cooking him from the inside out. Able to heal himself but the flames only slowly subside. When they're gone he's used all his mana and collapses for an entire day. Very weak physically and has very slow mana regeneration for some time afterwards. Gives Anton fear of using magic that he doesn't understand. Does try to use Tethra's power for knowledge and extra mana and strength. No backlash but half of the mana he used is lost.

- Goblins attacks escalate but they're pushed back. Villagers start fighting each other, treating Anton as a tool rather than a person. Anton says he's staying and that anyone is welcome to leave.

- Anton has women thrown at him in an attempt to seduce him to the escape side. Initially politely declines, becomes physical and Anton kills in self defence. When interrogating her shows the cold and sadistic side that Verona, and in future Kal and Cetina, hate.

- Internal issues culminate into a brawl just after the penultimate Goblin attack. Anton stops it with magic and a few hundred villagers try their luck. Run into a hidden Goblin pack and torn to shreds. Anton has them hang back and leave them to their fate.

- Attack Mount Aspire, recuse Dana, and return. Anton and Verona become physically intimate, especially since it could be their last day.

- Defeat Goblins. See the Orc thralls though don't know what they are.

- Begin planning visit to Maxill. Anton tells the leaders about his past.

- Gods visit him in a dream, wish him well and, in reward for trusting them, they will gather all the help they can.

- Arc ends with the New Heroes, heavily edited and the chapters shifted forward one.

So that's the gist of the first Arc. I think it addresses most of the concerns and issues people have. This way I think it'll be a lot more natural than it currently is and will set up future things as well.

I remember someone saying that Atros's water supply wouldn't be met with just one well. So there might need to be a change to the layout of the village and the surroundings. Perhaps a stream that runs down from the mountain to the side of Atros, for a source of fresh water and a place to launch Goblin attacks from, if there was a Goblin that intelligent of course.

These are just the little things that make the world seem a little more believable. Especially in a world that's essentially the medieval period, and a village that could best be called a frontier village.

Until Arc 1 is redone there's no real point in releasing the other Arcs. I can't give a timeframe, as I'm pretty bad at it, but my Patreon supporters will receive them all as they come out.

As for art and covers I have absolutely no idea. I want something a little bit different, style wise, than what I’ve seen about so I'll be going on some browsing adventures to find the right one.

As for Arc 5, that’s going well too. I’ve been writing that one as I’ve been releasing the previous chapters. Unfortunately, when writing so far ahead and things change the work has to be thrown away. Thankfully it’s only a few chapters but its still annoying.

I’ll be releasing the Arc 5 chapters fortnightly, giving me time to work on that and Arc 1. I’ll release the first chapter of Arc 5 next week and work from there. If anything happens I’ll be sure to let you all know.

I think that’s everything.

Thanks for coming with me this far, and I hope you’re still with me when I eventually finish this! (Sometime in the year 3000 probably!)

If you like my story consider supporting me on Patreon. Every dollar helps!

https://www.patreon.com/Terry78

Volume 05 - Chapter 01 - Into the Depths Again

Chapter 166:

Thin lines of steam and smoke, succulent scents of roasting meat, wafted into the air, coiling around Anton and dispersing over the small enclosed garden. Anton stood guard over the primitive stove, glancing towards a silver-haired woman constantly eying off the browning meat.

“Is it done yet?” Verona asked, resting her head on the table. “I want breakfast already. My stomach’s growling I’m so hungry.”

“I was thinking we do something a little different today.” Anton flipped a slice of Razor Pig meat with their few metal pieces of cutlery. “Something to celebrate us finishing two wars before winter started.”

“Not exactly before.” Verona looked up at the open sky. The sun was very weak despite it being early in the morning.

Winter was descending upon Atros. Leaves were browning and beginning to fall, something that was driving Bertram crazy to no end. The air itself felt crisper and far cooler than normal too, not enough to show one’s breath but, just before dawn, Anton could see the first signs.

“I’ll be glad to see not a winter from a cave, huddling around a dim fire to keep warm while praying that no one is going to find and catch me.” Kal chuckled, her body jumped up as Luna leapt onto her lap, desperate for attention from anyone present, and scratched behind her ears. “I think this blob is going to have to come inside.”

“We’ll build a flap for her,” Anton said. He looked to the door leading back to their house. “I’m sure she’ll love to come out here for some fresh air. And so that she doesn’t dirty her bed looking for a bush.”

“I hate to say it but the more people in a house the warmer it will be.” Cetina smiled. “Though I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re doing your thing, Verona.”

“It had better not be,” Anton said quietly. He picked up the cooked meat and served it to the girls, waiting patiently around a table in their garden. Though they had still yet to plant flowers it still felt good to eat outside for breakfast. Cool, crisp air and hot meals went together very well.

“Thank you, Anton.” Kal nodded. “This smells delicious.”

“Anton can cook great meals.” Verona laughed, tearing into the meat. “One of the reasons why I married him.”

“Just one?” Anton smiled.

Verona nodded. “It’s part of a list. Doesn’t meant it’s not important.”

After returning from Ozredkig, Cetina had her things, less that Kal had upon her arrival, moved into their house. Cetina took one of the rooms on the main corridor, saying it was important for bodyguards to be able to quickly respond to threats. He wondered how many nights she would actually spend in that room.

“So what’s the plan?” Verona asked, resting her arms on the table and wiping away the juices running down her face. “Just remember that we can’t do as much now.”

Verona rubbed her stomach. Though both she and Kal had very flat and taught stomachs it wouldn’t be long before that wouldn’t be the case. He was looking forward to that.

“I’m honestly not sure.” Anton cut his piece of Razor Pig meat. Verona eyed his off hungrily, though she still had most of hers, while Kal rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Getting the Dark Elves settled and being ready for winter’s the most important thing. Then there’s the whole thing with the Dwarves.”

“And your special artefact.” Kal sniggered. “I never thought I’d see you, of all people, giggle like that.”

The bolt action rifle lay inside a magically sealed box underneath his bed. So far no one knew about it but he would certainly need Dwarvish help to build more. Jonathan was a master human smith but this needed extremely delicate and skilled hands. Without machine cutting only the best craftsmen could be relied upon to build the first replica’s, especially since Anton knew it had to be built to very precise standards.

“The Dwarves come first. That-”

A loud knock echoed throughout the house. Cetina rose from her chair and raced to the door.

Anton chuckled. Verona laughed and Kal smiled faintly. “That means that rescuing the Beast-kin won’t happen for a while. Or, at least quickly. I…I think I need to rescue at least one batch to keep the Beast-kin trusting me.”

“They might get upset if you don’t.” Verona twirled her fork. “But you could always sell them back if they got too shitty.”

Kal frowned. Verona smiled and patted her hand, clearly not serious.

“Probably be best if we rescue them straight from a plantation too.” Anton heard footsteps across the wooden floor.

“It’s really happening.” Kal’s tail swished through the cool air. “It’s actually happening. Marion’s going to be so happy. Everyone’s going to be so happy…Once they get here.”

“Yes…” Anton frowned deeply. “I fear that a lot aren’t going to make it. Not when the Seocurian’s work out what we’re doing.”

Before Kal could ask further Cetina tapped hard on the wooden doorframe.

“Anton. Umikgruid and Gosthilda are outside. They say they want to speak with you, and that it’s urgent.”

“You haven’t told them about the rifle thingy?” Verona asked.

“Not yet. Bring them in, Cetina. I’ll be glad to have a chat with them.”

“We don’t have any more chairs,” Kal said. “They might just have to stand.”

“I want to see their little feet swaying.” Verona giggled. “I didn’t see it when they arrived but I’m sure they were doing it.”

“Don’t tell them that.” Anton winked. “They’d probably get cross. I think I would.”

Cetina returned with Umikgruid and Gosthilda in tow. The two Dwarves looked very happy, expectant almost, as they stepped into their garden.

“Hello.” Anton waved. “I’m sorry but we don’t have any extra chairs. We weren’t expecting guests. Just a quick breakfast outside and then straight to work.”

“That’s alright.” Umikgruid slapped his stomach. “Just finished ours. The food here’s pretty good.”

Cetina took her seat and hurriedly rammed down her food to catch up to the other girls.

“And how can I help you this morning?”

“Well…” Umikgruid looked to his wife.

“Since you’ve helped the Dark Elves.” Gosthilda began. “And they’re being settled very quickly, we were wondering if we could open up Mount Aspire and prepare it for our people.”

Anton interlinked his fingers before resting his elbows on the table. “You understand that we have no real idea what’s going on down below. That, while it might be safe, it could very well be completely hostile. They closed that door for a reason.”

Umikgruid nodded. “We understand. But you’re stronger now. And you have the Dark Elves to back you up now. If we can tell our people that we have a Dwarven hold almost entirely ready for them they’ll flock to Atros. If not, I don’t know if we can convince that many.”

“The desperate.” Gosthilda sighed. “The desperate and the adventurous. Though…Most of those have already left our clan, one way or another.”

“I didn’t have summons before.” Anton smiled. “Nor a lot of magic either. Gather up all the Dwarves and tell Jeff to give me a small force of soldiers, I’ll speak with the Dark elves for some extra archers.”

Both Dwarves looked very happy.

“But if it’s dangerous I’ll seal it back up and we’ll come back again when we’re strong enough. You might have to live with us for a while on the surface, if you can stomach such a thought.”

Umikgruid’s ears reddened at the implication the Dwarves were too snobbish to live with them. Anton smiled and waved down such thoughts.

“I’m just joking. Give us a few minutes to finish this…Oh, before you go, I want to show you something and get your opinion on it.”

Anton downed the last pieces of his meal. “I won’t be long.”

Verona waved him away. “Go. Play with your thing that’s more important than women.”

The Dwarves looked very strangely at him.

“Don’t mind her. She’s just trying to stir things up.” Anton laughed. “All because I caught her drooling in her sleep.”

“I haven’t done that in ages!” Verona yelled after Anton as they entered their home.

He recovered the sealed box and placed it on their bed. Thankfully they had tidied up before leaving, otherwise the Dwarves would have been shocked by the state of things.

“This.” Anton tapped the box. “This is an artefact taken from The Shadow Isles. I traded in all of the money we were supposed to be paid for this. And a few things besides…”

“So what is it?” Umikgruid looked to his wife. “Dwarves are very good craftsmen but we can’t create magical artefacts and devices without good tools and forges. Things which, despite Jonathan’s best efforts, you are generations away from making to be on par with ours.”

“It’s not magical.” Anton unlocked the box. “And that’s what’s so important about it.”

The Dwarves marvelled at the rifle within, not entirely sure what it was but respected Anton’s delicate hold.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Umikgruid’s hands twitched. He wanted to hold it but held himself back.

“You can touch it, but please be very careful with it. I think it’s the only one in existence.”

Umikgruid delicately took it from Anton. He held it with the reverence deserving of an unstable atomic bomb.

“Wood and metal…” Umikgruid looked down the barrel. “Something strange going on down this metal cylinder…I don’t understand what this is.”

“It’ll take a while to explain exactly what it is.” Anton took the rifle back. “But it is indeed metal. I’m not sure about the exact compositions and dimensions of each part, but do you think you could recreate this?”

Umikgruid pointed to the trigger. “The wood shouldn’t be too difficult, again once we get our proper tools it’ll be very simple. The metal…Is it one giant piece or is it assembled?”

“I’m almost certain it’s assembled.” Anton placed the rifle back into the container. “How and what pieces are needed I don’t know. If we were to pull it apart, piece by piece, you could recreate each individual component and rebuild it, yes?”

“Again, once we have our tools. If there’s nothing magical about it then it won’t be too hard. That little thing hanging underneath might be a little problem but that’s all.”

Gosthilda twirled a loose strand of hair. “But why do you want this? If it’s not magical how powerful can it be? It doesn’t look very useful as a club.”

Anton showed them the spent bullet. The slightly bent casing interested and confused them.

“There’s a piece missing from this. The most important part, but I can describe it to you when the time comes. I’m sure this will be easy for you to make too.”

Umikgruid nodded. “Once we get our tools…”

“And you shall have them very soon. Tell Jeff what I told you and gather your men. We’ll start taking back this Dwarven Hold.”

---[]---

Anton and a small force stood before Mount Aspire. Very little heat emanated from the sun, even as it rested directly above their collective heads. Cool air raced down the mountain’s slopes, hitting the snow cap before falling down at tremendous speed, buffeting the poor people working in the coal and iron mine at the foot of the mountain.

“Cold,” Rasha grumbled, rubbing her arms. “Far too cold. How’s Eider going to handle this?”

“Probably working near some sort of fire.” Anton smiled. “The downside to being cold blooded. I don’t think we have enough Earth Mana left for a hot stone for her. My magic is so inefficient for that.”

“No word from Ferula?” Verona asked.

“None so far.” Anton sighed. “She’ll just have to cuddle up to Ulyaa at night to stay warm.”

“She might bite her.” Rasha chuckled. “I remember Ulyaa saying something like that back in Seocuria.”

The Dwarves shouted as the last rocks tumbled free from the collapsed entrance. Despite their squat nature they worked extremely hard and surprisingly fast, the blockage was cleared in under an hour and they were ready for more. Strange that it was running that was their weakness. Small leg muscles built for endurance rather than a burst of exertion?

“Doesn’t look like there’s anything Dwarvish about this,” Umikgruid said to Anton. “Just some tunnel someone dug into the mountain. Poorly too.”

“That’s what we first thought too.” Anton pointed to the other collapsed tunnel entrances. “I doubt the Dwarves would make so many seemingly at random. Hard to defend so many entrances.”

“Having secret passageways wouldn’t be beyond the Dwarves.” Umikgruid smiled. “But there still should be some sign of our activity.”

“How are we supposed to see in there?” Calo, one of the Green Moon Dark Elf twins, asked. She frowned as she stared into the darkness. “Did you bring torches?”

“We did.” Cetina pointed to a small bundle of sticks, one end wrapped in thick cloth, resting near a mine building.

“Okay…” Sheso laughed. “I was getting a little worried.”

The Dark Elf twins were been sent by Leran and other Dark Elf representatives to ensure their soldiers were not being mismanaged or sent into the figurative mangler. At least that’s what they said, Anton suspected there was an ulterior motive.

Dark elves and humans can’t have children. Do they expect me to fall for some sort of honey trap instead? It’s a little too open here just to ask them with Tethra’s power.

“Make sure that you two stay safe,” Anton said calmly. “You don’t have bows, do you?”

“Not yet.” Sheso tapped her forearm. “Soon we should be able to start practising. Just swords for now.”

“I’m sure you’ll learn a thing or two from Kal.” Anton smiled. Kal nodded, she was just as good, perhaps even better than most Dark Elves.

“We’re ready when you are.” Umikgruid and the Dwarves returned with the torches.

Anton summoned a small flame, lit the torches and ushered the Dwarves in first. Not as fodder, but they and the Dark Elves could fire over their heads without incident. Rasha stayed to the side of the group, she didn’t have to duck but her bulk did result in some issues, issues that she really couldn’t deal with. The interior of the mountain was cold, musty and very stale. Slowly they crept along the rocky tunnel moving as silently as possible. They found nothing until they reached the central massive chamber. Shrivelled and mummified husks of the slaughtered Rock Rats littered the floor. The Dwarves spared Anton a quick glance, Anton ushered them towards the only downwards tunnel.

“Definitely doesn’t look like any Dwarf made this,” Umikgruid mumbled to Anton. “Those Rock Rats couldn’t have destroyed Dwarven architecture so easily, not even the Goblins could do that much damage. There’s absolutely nothing here.”

“Do you think they ripped everything up? To cover their tracks and pretend this never happened?”

Umikgruid rubbed his beard. “Seems strange to do after sealing up the hold, a lot of effort for nothing.”

“Maybe it was enough to stop treasure hunters.” Anton nodded as they approached the blockage at the bottom of the tunnel. “Since I know they’d definitely want to open these doors.”

“Just behind here?” A Dwarf from the front asked.

“Yep. It’s not that many stones.”

The Dwarves clapped their hands and began to move the stones. There wasn’t enough room to simply move the stones away so a column shifted them into the central large chamber. It took some time, and a lot of sweat, but the area was cleared.

“Now I understand why you were so anxious to see this opened.”

The stone doorway stood exactly as Anton remembered it; a giant square door with metal spikes rammed through the door and into the surrounding stone, a beam of steal across the middle, nearly cut through by some monstrous beast. The deep cuts gouged into the floor immediately stopped the Dwarves in their tracks.

“Are you sure that you still want this opened?” Anton asked.

Umikgruid approached the door before running his hand over the stone. “This is definitely Dwarvish…But it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before. So…Rushed.”

“Probably to seal up whatever made those scratches.”

Verona clicked her fingers. “I forgot to tell you, I saw scratches like this in The Shadow Isles, on the wall on that giant Mist Walker tower. I didn’t think much about it at the time, and we kind of had other things to worry about then…”

Anton stroked his bearded chin. “There’s a lot of water between even Bebbezzar and there…Was the water level once much lower?”

“Are you ready, Anton?” Umikgruid motioned the Dwarves forward and readied to lift the metal bar. “If there’s something on the other side we’ll be the first to be attacked.”

“Go for it.”

Verona’s eyes glowed and rested her hand over her clay pots. The Dwarves heaved, lifted the bar free and gently placed it on the ground before removing the metal spikes, standing on each other’s shoulders to reach those on top and, after taking one final glance back to Anton and pushed the door open. Rusted hinges groaned, the Dwarves slowed to the tiniest crawl to limit the sound, but the stone doors opened. Anton summoned four Large Fire Imps and directed them forward.

Giant claw marks riddled the stone floor beyond the door, far deeper and more numerous than those outside. Hundreds of deep scratches, deep at the top while shallow at the bottom, covered the back of the door. Whatever made these were quite tall and had the intelligence to continue attacking even after the door had been forced close.

“No sign of whatever did this,” Anton said softly. “So they slunk back further into the darkness when they couldn’t break through.”

Anton inspected the back of the door more closely. “Not that they had much further to go.”

The Fire Imps glowing bodies illuminated the smooth corridor as they slowly entered the Dwarven hold. The Dwarves stared at the craftsmanship of the stone, muttering to one another but retaining deep frowns. Anton tapped Umikgruid’s shoulder; they had no idea what was irking the Dwarves so much.

“Everything built beyond the stone door is exceedingly well made,” Umikgruid whispered, his eyes darting forward, hopeful there was no movement beyond the flickering shadows cast by the Fire Imps. “I don’t like how badly…How quickly the Dwarves that lived here made that door.”

“How long are we talking? Days?”

“Under a day.” Umikgruid received nods from the Dwarves. “Well under a day. And that’s a terrible sign for a Dwarf.”

The Fire Imps stopped, sending a signal through the thought tether.

“They’ve found something,” Anton whispered. “Don’t know what, but it’s not a rock.”

Everyone readied their weapons as they approached the Fire Imps standing before something. It was a Dwarf, old and mummified. He, the Dwarf still had a decaying beard, wore a full suite of metal armour, far better than anything the Dragon Guard Clan wore. Underneath lay the decaying remains of multiple layers of cloth, for extra padding and protection. However the Dwarf’s skull was cut into ribbons; the skull held three large gouges, his shoulder armour accounted for the other three.

“I think we can be grateful he died almost instantly.” Anton quietly mused.

“I…I know this symbol.” A female Dwarf point to an emblem just above his heart. "It's a marking from a missing hold, the Blood Hammers!"

"Are you sure?" Umikgruid asked.

The Dwarf nodded. "I know it. I've seen that emblem on some of their items back home. Only in the rich's homes, but I haven't forgotten it."

"Any idea who he was?" Anton asked. "Warrior?"

"I'm not sure..." Umikgruid lifted a damaged shield, the same emblem painted on the top of the shield. The dried, desiccated arm tore free with a slight puff of dust. Umikgruid coughed and searched around the Dwarf's waist.

"Well, if they follow the same rules as we do this was probably a Thane." Umikgruid glanced back, rolling his hand. "Think a captain of a few hundred men. Strong and well armoured. But…Killed so easily."

"We need to keep moving," Anton ordered the Fire Imps forward. "This may sound insensitive but is there anything useful that he's carrying? We will give him a proper funeral later. As proper as we can give."

"The armour and weapons need repairing, and we don't know if they're any good." Umikgruid waved the Dwarves to stand up. "But if he's here alone...A Thane would never just abandon their warriors."

"Maybe a last stand before the gate shut." Anton nodded. "That makes more sense to me."

Umikgruid smiled. No one had any idea if it was true but it was the story they would agree upon.

They passed another group of desiccated Dwarves. Though less armoured than the dead Thane these were still better than the Dragon Guard Dwarves. Their armour had been ripped and torn asunder, all were missing limbs and two had no heads. Whatever caused such terrible injuries were nowhere to be found.

“The Fire Imps have found something,” Anton said quietly. “And it’s not a Dwarf this time. Seems like they’re capable of learning, somewhat.”

Far ahead the four Imps stood around something extremely large resting against the side. It looked even larger than Rasha. Cetina and Rasha moved in front of Anton and lowered their weapons, the Dark Elves readied their arrows.

What lay before the Fire Imp’s was nothing like Anton had seen so far; a giant eight-legged insect corpse lay sprawled against the stone wall. His first thought drifted to Ulyaa, if her spider half was completely made out of a dull orange and brown chitin armour. Its abdomen was far slimmer but longer than Ulyaa’s, covered in dozens of small but sharp spikes, so too were the legs, a similar claw arrangement at the bottom. The upper half resembled a human’s in only the barest sense. Hard chitin covered its chest and four arms, all tipped with six massive claws. Some had broken off, two embedded into the stone within easy reach. Anton had no idea if it was male or female, it lacked the obvious characteristics, but the face gave him chills. A perfectly smooth head held six dried and sunken insectoid eyes stared back blankly above a row of teeth only befitting something from a nightmare.

“If anyone has a clue please speak up,” Anton said softly.

Kal and Cetina shook their heads, Calo and Sheso knew nothing either. The Dwarves stood silently, staring at the creature. Umikgruid approached, an axe at the ready and tapped its leg. A puff of dust erupted from the limb as it fell free, further shattering upon landing on the stone floor.

“It’s been here a while,” Umikgruid muttered. He pointed to a series of cuts on the creature’s upper chest. “Those were made by Dwarvish weapons.”

“No real surprise there,” Verona muttered.

“No…But the cuts are very shallow for what I think made them.” Umikgruid tapped a wound above where its heart should lie. “This was made from a Great Axe. And yet it barely dug…”

“I can assure you that the project that I’ll have you work on will easily be able to puncture this hide,” Anton ordered a Fire Imp to touch the creature’s rear legs. With barely a push the creature disintegrated into dust and an innumerable tiny fragments. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“No bones.” Anton pointed to the remains. “Well, outside of its skull.”

“And that means?” Kal raised a brow.

“I don’t know. But I didn’t think insects could grow this large. Though the introduction of mana changes a lot of things.” Anton pointed further down the corridor, directing the Fire Imps to take the lead. “Let’s keep moving.”

Over the next few minutes, they encountered five insect creatures and thirty Dwarves, all long dead and thoroughly decomposing. Umikgruid didn’t leave an Insect standing, only happy when each was nothing more than a pile of dust and broken chitin fragments.

The light from the Fire Imps began to fade away. At first Anton, and those around him, thought something had destroyed them. He could still feel the tether connecting to him, they had simply walked down a flight of stairs. At the bottom they found a wooden door, easily a foot thick, completely ripped to pieces. The cuts, all easily grouped into groups of six was a dead giveaway as to why such an impressive structure had fallen.

“This is a trading post,” Umikgruid muttered as they entered. “A place where we store resources and goods before sending them above.”

The trading post’s roof nearly tripled in height from the corridor. Hundreds of wooden racks scraped the perfectly smooth stone roof. Many of the interconnecting planks had broken, sending once precious cargo all over the floor.

“A standard one at that…” Umikgruid nodded.

“Reminds me too much of home,” Gosthilda added.

Anton noticed the lack of places to hold torches, instead they found small white crystals. Rasha approached, tall enough to reach, and tapped one. For a moment it flickered with a light then faded away.

“Not surprising they ran out of Earth Mana.” Umikgruid looked between the stones, each of the pillars along the main thoroughfare of the room held four, one on each side, while those further back held two.

“Are they drawing all the time?” Anton asked. “Or did the magic run out? Is it possible to permanently deplete an area?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “We Dwarves use a lot of magical devices, but you can’t take too much from the land without things going…strange. So, some clever little sod found a way to make certain objects store Earth Mana and slowly release it to keep the device working.”

He tapped Rasha’s side and pointed to the crystal. “If you could please get that for me? It shouldn’t be stuck too tightly.”

Rasha looked to Anton for confirmation. He nodded and she gingerly removed the white gem. On the surface, it looked normal but the back was another story. The back contained another smaller cube, a formless grey. Rasha gently shook the gem and the smaller came loose into her hand. It looked unremarkable, just a grey formless stone. A white metal square lay inside the white cube, the grey had no corresponding patch of metal.

Umikgruid waved Rasha to lower her hand and took the smaller gem. “Wow…This is old. Not just old, I mean the way it’s been built is really old.” He smiled at Anton. “Think of this as a wooden stick compared to a full suite of Adamantium armour and a great sword.”

“That bad?” Verona asked.

Umikgruid chuckled. “Not that bad. I do exaggerate. But this Dwarf Hold must have been abandoned for ages…The only place you see things like this is in the lowest, poorest levels of the Dwarven Isles.”

“Where you live?” Kal asked.

Gosthilda nodded. “We keep things running…”

“Where can we get more of those little cubes?” Anton asked. “Or some sort of recharging station?”

“There’s always a few in every hold, no matter how small.” Umikgruid glanced around the trading post. “There should be one nearby…But we need to find a map. There should be one somewhere in here. There's no reason to travel all across the hold just to put some more Earth Mana into one of these.”

The Dwarves began to fan out, leaving them and the Dark Elves a little lost.

“The air here doesn’t smell so bad,” Calo said.

Her sister nodded. “But it was in the corridor…Is this the only way in here?”

“There might be some old chimneys and vents leading upwards…Up into the mountain...” Anton scratched his beard. “But we’re probably far away from Mount Aspire now.”

“We really haven’t explored much of the land to the north of Mount Aspire,” Verona said. “We don’t want to be seen from the Clansmen, after all.”

“Who?” Sheso asked.

“The Deweth Clansmen,” Anton said. “A group of very large and strong humans. Marauders and raiders that attack the lowland countries. Except us…Because they think the Kar Kingdom is dead.”

“It is in a sense.” Verona sniggered. “And not.”

The twins grew quiet, comparing the Green Moon to the Deweth Clansmen was a rather apt comparison. Anton smiled and patted their heads, hidden underneath light armour.

“Just make sure your clan doesn’t try and do something like that.” Anton received two odd looks. “No piracy…Well, unless I ask for it.”

“I don’t think…” Calo trailed off, pursing her lips and looking away. Sheso looked just as awkward. Something to question later.

“Found it!” A Dwarf, near the far end of the trading post yelled. He received a slap over the back of his head from Gosthilda, a quick and harsh flurry of words for being so loud. The Dwarf hung his head low but there was nothing to be done about it now.

The Dwarf, thoroughly humbled, pointed to a stone map next to another large set of thick wooden doors. Only one had been torn asunder, the other had attempted to be bolted shut but whoever had tried lost their hand, a bony skeleton arm jammed tight underneath stuck out at a worrying angle.

Umikgruid stroked his beard. “If this map is correct…Hmm…This is all very strange. Very strange indeed.”

Anton knelt down. He smiled as Verona, Calo and Sheso could remain standing without much issue. Verona noticed, her eye twitched in annoyance.

Umikgruid point to the top right of the stone map. “We’re here. Now, this says Trading Post Tertiary. So we’re dealing with all the poor goods.”

“But that’s the only one leading up into the mountain.” Anton followed the maps markers, another two appeared to rise to the surface, though away from Mount Aspire. “Those are to the north…At least I think they are. There’s nothing in Atros like a cave entrance. I don’t even know if we have cellars…”

“Probably not.” Umikgruid pointed his gloved hand to the other two entrances. “These look like there were small Dwarven cities around the entrances. Guard stations really. You haven’t been to the north of your mountain yet?”

“Kind of. There’s nothing there but open grasslands.” Anton received a nod from Verona. “We didn’t see anything that looked like ruins, though the grasses were long, they could easily hide in there.”

“Something to think about.” Umikgruid coughed. “Though I think they would have been sealed like this post, probably more thoroughly. Anyway, we’re a long way from anywhere important.”

Gosthilda shuffled towards her husband. “This looks good. A habitation block. A big one too.”

This habitation block was merely a long rectangle on the stone map, with a single connection to the tertiary trading post and two more connections to the rest of the sprawling Dwarven Hold.

“If we can take control of that, seal up the doors…” Gosthilda smiled. “We’ll have somewhere to start taking back this hold.”

“It’ll be a lot easier once we’ve got more Dwarves.” Anton nodded. “I’m just worried about the smell.”

“Smell?” Cetina asked.

“Of us,” Kal said. “This place is old and musty, even with the fresh air it gets from…somewhere. But we’re here now. And each of us smells.”

“So if there are any more of those insects they’ll soon know.” Anton stood up. “We’ll seal the doors, I’ll use my magic to shock anyone that touches them, and put a portal in here, just in case.”

Umikgruid continued to stare at the stone map.

“Something wrong?”

Umikgruid didn’t answer with words, just a strange sigh. “Something’s wrong with this map. I’ve never seen a hold like this.”

“You did say it was old.” Verona offered.

“That’s not it.” Umikgruid pointed to the bottom of the map. “This section was being etched into the map…I’m guessing that’s where these creatures came from, but that’s not the problem. I’ve found the forge, or at least that’s what it says, and it’s absolutely massive.”

Umikgruid pointed to a large square that would lie almost directly underneath Atros.

“That’s great. All the forging and metal work we could ever need.”

“It’s way too big for a hold this size.” Umikgruid shrugged. “But if it was supplying the humans and Beast-kin above then it makes more sense. But, that’s not it. It’s this thing to the side.”

A large vertical rectangle, adjoining to the forge, ran straight down, far below the newer markings and off the bottom of the stone map.

“I don’t understand what this is.”

“Storage?” Anton asked. “If these Dwarves supplied the United Empire they would need a very big arsenal. And it would make sense to put it right next to the forge.”

Umikgruid shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like one. No way from this to the surface, or the rest of the forge. But we can get to the forge pretty easily from that habitation block. Then there’s this.”

Umikgruid’s fingers trailed to another small rectangle, on the very far edge of the stone map, with a single long corridor connecting it to the rest of the hold.

“Perhaps some sort of research laboratory?” Anton said.

“Storage of dangerous items.” Kal offered. “Makes sense to keep it far away from the rest of the hold.”

Umikgruid let his hand drop. “I don’t know. They both say storage but nothing else…I don’t understand.”

“Let’s head to the habitation block first.” Anton directed the Fire Imps forward. “Then we’ll see if we want to go further. But I really want to see that forge, even if it’s been abandoned for ages. Maybe it has a place to recharge those stones. Doesn't look like there's one here.”

More and more corpses littered the corridor as they travelled down. Every so often they found a wooden barricade, broken and damaged alongside Dwarven crossbows resting against the wood with dead Dwarves laying behind. Often there were a few Insect corpses in front, peppered with bolts that disintegrated upon touch. While it was heartening to know they could be killed the sheer number they were finding, of Dwarves and the Insects, was more than a little disheartening. They found a large group, a ring of warriors protecting Dwarves with plain clothes, some were very small. All were ripped and broken and simply left to rot. Whatever the Insects were they didn’t take the dead back to their home, unless they ate like a spider; liquidising the innards, devouring the slurry and leaving a dried husk. He couldn’t see any puncture wounds, at least ones that corresponded to their large, menacing teeth, so it was likely they simply killed the Dwarves and moved on. Which was slightly worse. If hunger was not the driving force what was? Intruding upon a nest was the likely scenario.

Which meant the breach is probably still active.

A wood and iron door, again broken, awaited them at the habitation block. The Dwarves readied themselves for what might lie inside.

It was worse than even Anton dreaded.

Immediately the door became jammed. A child Dwarf’s body rolled and rattled out of the way, unfurling its dried clothes and bones within.

The habitation block reminded Anton more of a prison than something where someone would want to live. A series of corridors ran the length of the room, with five layers of small stone rooms reaching the roof. Even from the entrance Anton could see the staircases leading up at the end of the blocks and, with the right flicker from the Fire Imps, twenty or so houses down.

However he couldn’t marvel at their homes, not when the Dwarves were on the verge of tears; almost all of the doors were broken, deep scratches from the insect's claws ran along every piece of exposed metal, corpses, mostly unarmoured, littered the ground. Thankfully the number of insects wasn’t small, but the way some had positioned themselves, bursting through small windows and becoming wedged in the doors, didn’t fill Anton with any positive notions about the Dwarves last moments.

Umikgruid shook his head. “They killed everyone.”

“Are you sure that you’ll be able to live here?” Verona asked. “Do you even want to?”

“Once we clean it up it’ll be fine.” Umikgruid pointed to an insect corpse on a higher level, axe stuck in its head and a child’s skull gripped tight in its maw. “They won’t want to see that.”

“Do you want us to move the bodies?” Anton asked softly.

Umikgruid shook his head. “We’ll do it. They need to be carefully handled now, not that I don’t think you can’t…”

“We’ll secure the doors and makes sure those insects can’t get back in.” Anton smiled. “Compartmentalisation is key.”

---[]---

Half an hour later and the habitation block was completely secure. The doors had been repaired and a security prayer cast to keep any Insect at bay, a portal established and materials brought through. In the meantime the Dark Elves scoured the room looking for any additional breach. Satisfied they’d found none they decided to find the Dwarven forge, the beating heart of any hold, though Umikgruid still had some concerns as they descended the next stone flight of stairs.

“I’m just worried that there are more of those insect things.” He said. The steps were a little small for humans, doubly so for Rasha, but the Dwarves treated it like they were normal. “We haven’t found one alive yet.”

Anton looked at another defensive work, this one made from wood and iron, still ripped apart but this time the insects outnumbered the dead Dwarves.

“Me too.” Anton rotated his wrist. “Who knows if they’ve got the magic resistant flesh? If they do we’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

The Fire Imps stopped before a massive iron door. It was almost comically large for them, perhaps a demonstration of some power or prestige, but it had clearly been the last line of defence for the Dwarves escaping the forge. One side was opened, the iron had taken the Insects’ attacks very well but still had fallen. However the number of dead Insects gave Anton hope; they were far from invincible even to traditional weapons, the Dwarves simply didn’t have anyone experienced left when they retreated to the habitation blocks.

“Here we go again,” Umikgruid mumbled.

The Fire Imps entered first and lit the way. A scene of slaughter awaited them inside, but far more even; two insects for every Dwarf. Umikgruid breathed a little easier. His hands bounced in excitement as he pointed to something lying just behind the door.

“There’s one. An Infuser Station.” He tossed the small grey stone into the air. “Finally we can get some proper light.”

Anton rushed the Fire Imps forward, they were completely expendable while the Dwarves were not, to secure the circular stone table. In a small alcove lay a small square hole, large enough for the grey stone. Umikgruid placed it inside. For a few seconds nothing happened, a few flickers of light and the small stone began to glow.

“How long before it’s fully charged?”

“Shouldn’t be too long.” Umikgruid smiled. “But there’s enough room on this thing for twenty. We should get as many as we can.”

Stone pillars, only a few meters tall and not reaching the roof, well out of sight even with Anton’s bright light, held another four light crystals, one on each face. Within a few moments the entire Infuser station was working, all twenty small stones glowing bright.

“I’d really love to know how this thing works.” Anton looked more closely at the device. “I’ve got no idea where it’s drawing Earth Mana from.”

Gosthilda chuckled. “So long as it does work. And it shouldn't affect the Earth Mana above. At least it shouldn't, that's the whole point of these things.”

The first stone blinked extremely brightly before returning to a steady bright glow. Umikgruid placed it gently into the large white stone. Almost instantly it lit up, the stone was so bright it hurt Anton’s eyes to look directly at it. Umikgruid passed it to Rasha to place onto the pillars. With the available light rapidly growing it revealed a forge of a truly industrial scale. Giant cauldrons, castings for metal ingots, anvils and benches bristling with forgotten tools and a myriad of other items Anton had no idea what purpose they could possibly serve laid scattered around the forge. Not all of the disorder was caused by the Insects, not unless they could move stone structures with ease. The Dwarves were ecstatic so that was enough for him.

“By all the gods,” Gosthilda whispered. “By Esperit…There’s so much here.”

“Is this too old to use?” Anton asked.

“No. Absolutely not…” She inspected one of the cauldrons. “These are all lined with Adamantium. Who has that much Adamantium, and that much money?”

“A world-spanning empire?” Verona offered.

Gosthilda nodded. “Indeed.”

Though the twenty crystals were performing a fantastic job of illuminating the forge much remained in shadow. Cauldrons and other metal devices extended beyond Anton’s s vision in the dim light. This place was probably even larger than Atros.

“If this was their primary weapons and armour production it’s no wonder the United Empire fell.” Anton received odd looks. “Without the Dwarves equipment, and I’m just doubting the Dwarven Isles would be able to make the difference especially if they charged a high price for their labour, they’d have to raise more soldiers, which puts more stress on their economy and empire.”

“So if this place hadn’t fallen Beast-kin and Humans might still live side by side?” Kal asked, her voice somewhat melancholic.

Anton scratched her ears, raising her mood slightly. “I have no idea. But the Dwarves didn’t do it on purpose.”

“There’s still metal inside the cauldrons’.” A Dwarf called out to Umikgruid. “It’s just been left to cool…Someone left in a real hurry. I wonder why..."

“Anyway to get them working again?” Anton asked.

Umikgruid pointed to a large metal box to the side of the cauldron. “If you find a depleted Infusion Gem swap them out and get them charging. We need to get this place working.”

“This’ll probably keep you occupied for the next couple of days.” Anton folded his arms. “I don’t want to leave you down here on your own though. Who knows if those Insects have picked up our scent yet.”

“But can’t you just create another portal?”

“I can. But there is a limit I can keep open at once. We don’t know if those things are drawn to someone taking too much Earth Mana.”

Umikgruid nodded. “Any depleted gems?”

The Dwarf returned with sixteen small grey stones, all lifeless and dead.

“Leave them on the table. We’ll charge them once we’ve got more of our people here. There’s too few of us if to get this place working, even if we wanted to right now.”

Another group of Dwarves approached with handfuls of grey gems. They looked completely identical to those powering the lights, it appeared they could be switched at will. Umikgruid had them place them upon the table.

“Before we head back up there’s the vertical room I want to have a look at,” Anton said. “It’s right underneath Atros too. If it’s dangerous we might need to move the city.”

“What fun.” Verona chuckled.

At the far end of the forge lay yet another door. This, however, hadn’t been touched in any way. Bright blue Chelium remained completely untouched to the Insects attacks, the stone around it had been only lightly touched. Umikgruid tried to move the door but it refused to budge. He tapped on a small lock at Dwarf height. Gosthilda brought out her small lock picking kit and began to work.

“This one’s very tricky,” Gosthilda grumbled as the seconds dragged on. “A lot of stupid things are going on in here. And it’s a right…pig to get right.”

“Mind if I try something?”

Gosthilda backed away as Anton placed his hand over the lock and chanted a prayer to unlock the door. A clang echoed throughout the door as it slowly swung open. Gosthilda grumbled but didn’t argue about Anton’s extremely convenient magic. The first whiff of air made Anton gag. He ushered the Dwarves back and the Fire Imps forward. The flaming creatures found nothing, though the smell was strangely easy to get used to. More worryingly his tail began to tingle and grow a charge, extremely slowly but it was noticeable.

“Something in there is giving me a charge.” Anton waved away the smell. “Keep an eye out for anything.”

“We’ll head in,” Cetina said. “Keep you from gaining any more.”

“It’s really not much. But I’ll stop the moment it starts to get anywhere serious.”

The girls didn’t look too convinced. No light crystals waited on the other side, only a perfectly flat floor extending ten meters from the door. Anton pushed a fireball and changed it to glow as bright as possible.

“There’s nothing here.” Verona frowned lightly. “Just a giant pit.”

The ten meter floor formed a square around the edge of the giant room, easily hundreds of meters wide and long. Otherwise it was empty. Anton directed the flame up, again nothing right to the roof.

Kal tapped his side. “There’s something shiny below. Down the far side of the wall.”

Kal pointed to a piece of white Adamantium metal, bright and shiny despite the passage of time, on the far side of the square pit, just a few meters down. An Adamantium hoop bolted into the stone, bolts that were bigger than Rasha. As he looked closer and his eyes adjusted he saw a thick chain of Adamantium hanging from the hoop and falling below his sight. He looked to the other two sides he could see, they too had a piece of Adamantium chain bolted to the side.

“So what are you holding then?” Anton mused.

His Fire Imps moved to the edge and stopped. There didn’t appear to be any trap, at least so far. His eyes followed the chains until he saw a hook protruding out of the darkness. Something covered the hook. A piece of flesh.

“What…” Rasha murmured. Her height allowed her a better vantage point, though it took the others only a few steps to see.

Suspended in the giant pit was something that shouldn’t exist in this world, nor on Earth. It was the lifelike version of the Dragon creature that Trellos held in the White Realm. The four Adamantium hooks dug deep into its flesh; one through the back of its skull, the far side through its shoulder, the closest side its hip and the right its upper leg. Its dark brown scaly skin reflected the light coming from Anton’s fireball. Despite the age, it remained new and relatively undamaged. Adamantium spikes were driven deep into its eyes and through its throat.

“Is that…” Verona tapped his hand.

“Yeah…That’s what’s he held.”

The Dragon’s chest had been ripped open, the rib bones cut cleanly off. A red crystalline heart lay in the centre. As Anton stared he saw something move within the crystal, strange swirls and writhing of ghostly shadowy worms.

“That’s where they got the red crystal,” Anton said.

“What?” Cetina asked. The Dark Elf twins looked equally confused.

“We have this red crystal, encased in this silver framework that repels Goblins.” Anton pointed at the crystal heart. “Look, there are pieces missing.”

“Harvesting it…” Kal shook her head. “Is it still alive?”

Its tail, identical to Anton’s, hanged loose and limp. The creature remained perfectly still, there wasn’t a breeze to start it swaying after all. A faint light glowed at the very bottom of the pit. Anton gingerly approached the edge and looked down. With an eye enhancement it was still difficult to see the bottom but he could just make it out.

Lava.

“They really wanted this wanted to make sure this thing never got out.”

“What is it?” Kal asked. He guessed that she was using an enhancement too.

“Molten rock.” Anton stepped back, gently pulling Kal back as well. “Molten rock that’s hotter than anything you could imagine, probably far hotter than my tethered flame pillars. More than enough to burn that thing.”

“You used it on King Harold.” Kal murmured softly.

“How’s it going back there?” Verona tapped his rear.

“Fine. Probably only one scale so far, maybe two.” Anton looked at the red crystal heart. “If we’re directly underneath Atros, well, we’ve just discovered why Atros survived for so long. I’ve always wondered why that little village was able to survive in where so many stronger places didn’t.”

“Survive is a strange way to put it.” Verona scratched her head.

“Atros seems pretty strong,” Calo said. “The Goblins have attacked since we’ve been here and it was pretty easy.”

“We understand there were less people here though…” Sheso trailed off.

Verona held their shoulders, annoyingly for her she had to reach up slightly. “Things weren’t great when Anton arrived. Let’s save that story for another day.”

The twins nodded.

“Do we kill it?” Cetina asked. “Drop it into this Lava?”

“No. I don’t think it’s going to just get up.” Anton flexed his hand. “I’m just more worried this thing actually roamed this world.”

“And that someone was able to capture one.” Cetina pointed to its long claws. “Imagine that ripping through armour. I wouldn’t trust Adamantium armour against those. It’d be like being hit by a boulder, even if it didn’t cut through.”

“Would the project of yours be able to kill this thing?”

“Maybe a few hundred shots in its head and throat.” Anton smiled. “But there are larger one weapons, much larger ones that I want you to build. They’d kill this thing in just a few hits.”

“This is getting more interesting by the moment.” Umikgruid chuckled.

Anton signalled to leave the room. “We’ll end the expedition here for the day. We’ve made a lot of ground and we shouldn’t go too far. There’s still a lot of the hold to explore before we can say it’s secure. I’ll leave another portal set in the forge. As soon as we have enough Dwarves we’ll get that up and running. I wonder if Jonathan’s going to be annoyed that his smithy is about to be eclipsed by something that’s always been just beneath our feet.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 02 - The Royal Academy

Chapter 167:

Anton breathed the fresh air rolling down from Mount Aspire, though tainted somewhat light wisps of smoke rising from the small mining camp. Anton chose to take the long way back, pass over everything with a different eye. Thankfully they found no hidden pathways or more dead Insects or Dwarves.

The mine workers, some Beast-kin, toiled endlessly to dig up the coal and iron needed to keep Atros growing strong. Those Beastkin, almost all were of the larger variety, had no problem working in such conditions, even if they were probably similar to those in Seocuria. With less beatings and shouting. When someone alerted the miners to their presence they readied their pickaxes and shovels but relaxed immediately upon realising it wasn't a small horde of Goblins or Rock Rats emerging from the depths.

“What a nice little excursion.” Verona stretched her arms over her head. “Who knew something like that existed below our feet.”

“Would you have moved Atros if you knew?” Anton asked.

“Probably…Probably.” Verona nodded. She held his arm tight. “But with you by our side, I’m not worried.”

“Worst we just throw it into the lava.” Kal smiled.

“True…” Anton turned to the Dark Elves. “Thank you for your help today. I understand that it wasn’t much but I still wish to convey my thanks. You can return to your homes now, just be careful on the journey back.”

The Dark Elves bowed their heads and began the trek back. It would take a while to return but stretching their legs, and taking in the light would be good for them. The twins remained behind, sparing glances to the other Dark Elves of their clan but receiving none in return.

“With the Dwarves staying behind to prepare the habitation block…” Anton sighed. “And remove the bodies, we’ve still got a few days before Wilford arrives.”

“I think you should head to Graterious,” Verona said. “You've got the writ from Cassius so I think you should use it. You know, before he decides that keeping you neutral isn't worth the price...He did get a few prisoners out of it. Your special project will require a little more time, since we don’t have enough Dwarves yet, so we should get some more mages.”

“It’s too random and unreliable to wait upon the Old Gods to bless us with their powers…” Anton nodded. “A good idea. But the nearest portal is in Sebo, in Seocuria. So…”

“Means I can’t go.” Rasha sighed. “I’ll stay here and keep Atros safe.” Rasha slapped her large muscular arms, hidden underneath her metal and Arachnid silk armour. “At the very least I can lift some logs.”

“You’re worth much more than that.” Anton smiled. Rasha smiled back, Verona sniggered and nudged Kal’s side. “Verona, Kal? Do you want to come?"

Kal shook her head. "I'd love to travel but the Academy is in the capital. And they aren't just going to let someone wearing a mask, in a group that's going to look very suspicious, just to wander through."

"Of course I'm going." Verona thrust out her chest. "And so is your human bodyguard. It'll feel weird if it's just the two of us again."

"I've never seen a Seocurian city myself." Calo shared a nod with her sister. "Are they good places to visit?"

"They are," Verona replied. "So long as you can stand them being so cruel to their slaves."

Both twins fell silent.

"I wonder how the border is going to treat us." Anton mused, turning and beginning to walk towards Atros. The small city was no longer small, many layers of stone and wood walls radiated from the large open area at the centre with hundreds of faint smoke trails wafting into the cloudy sky.

“But I’m sure that we’re going to be in for a fun adventure, right?”

Those that would be travelling with him didn’t look too convinced.

---[]---

Someone was waiting for their return immediately outside of Atros’s outer stone wall, a low wall surrounding the new and rapidly expanding Dark Elf quarters. An eight-legged Beast-kin, an Arachnid, their only Arachnid, stood patiently to the side of the main thoroughfare, now marked with a row of wooden stakes topped with a tassel of bright fabric gently flapping in the wind. Ulyaa, her brown skin positively glowed in the light, fidgeted with her hair, the front two of her eight legs tapped on the ground in a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Ulyaa waved heartily as they approached. “They said you’d gone north, but I didn’t really think they meant you went into the mountain.” She nodded to the Dark Elf warriors already dispersing to their clans. “At least that’s what they said.”

“The Dark Elves treating you alright?” Anton asked. Calo and Sheso looked a little nervous.

Ulyaa nodded. “They are. But I think they’re only paying attention up here.”

Ulyaa pointed to her chest, her face devoid of any ill intent, before she realised her mistake. She laughed and pointed at her face.

“Up here. Well, some are I think. But they’re keeping all their attention away from this.” Ulyaa patted her spider rear. “I think it’s a little disturbing for them.”

“We’re just going to have to ask you to endure.” Anton smiled. “It’ll change in time.”

“Did something happen in Atros?” Kal asked. “Wouldn’t you normally be working in the fields? Not that I’m saying you need to-”

Ulyaa chuckled, waving down Kal’s words. “I asked for a little time and they gave it to me. I’ve already done most of what I need to this morning. I wanted to give you all this.”

Ulyaa reached behind her back and presented four Arachnid silk shirts.

“I asked the seamstresses to make these.” Ulyaa passed them out, checking a small mark on the collar. “They really like my silk, just don’t like talking where it comes from.”

“Is that a normal way Arachnids carry things?” Anton asked, Ulyaa cutely tilted her head. “They didn’t force you to carry stuff on your…body?”

“Oh no.” Ulyaa rubbed a leg one back from the front. “I’m not that strong. Sometimes it makes things easier to move about. Like this. It’s not heavy. And no, no one’s asked me to do that.”

Anton gently stretched the material. It was just as strong as Ulyaa’s silk shirt; very stretchy but didn’t tear or fray no matter how hard he pulled. It would be disrespectful to try and tear it in front of Ulyaa. Besides, he trusted its strength and didn’t need another demonstration.

“Thanks, Ulyaa.” Anton neatly folded his up. “We’ll put this on later.”

Verona raised a brow as she inspected hers far more closely. “It’s not weird for us to wear something that came from you?”

“Not…Not really.” Ulyaa smiled, clasping her hands together and resting them against her lap. “One of the seamstresses wanted to know how it actually came out of me. That was…An interesting conversation.”

“I certainly hope it was a woman,” Anton said softly.

Ulyaa laughed, fighting down the red creeping up her ears. “So are you all off again? I can sort of see the look in your eyes.”

“I’m afraid so.” Anton looked to the sky. “I’d like everything to just keep pottering along-”

“Pottering?” Verona asked Kal and Cetina. Both shrugged.

“-But we can’t. Our next destination is the Graterian capital, Boreana, and the associated Royal Academy. Finally get some books on how to use Principle Magic.” Anton glanced to the girls behind him. “I get the feeling Ferula’s busy, or she wants us to stand on our own feet.”

“That doesn’t seem to be in line with what she said.” Kal’s ears pulled back slightly. “If she wants the Kar Kingdom to be reborn…”

“Unless she’s lying.” Verona mused. “You saw how she treated that apprentice girl. She wasn’t ready to fight that necromancer, barely managed to survive and Ferula just…” Verona shrugged. “Told her to get ready for some serious pain.”

“A what?” Ulyaa asked. Rasha, Calo and Sheso shared her surprise and confusion.

“A long story.” Anton smiled. “But one worth telling one day.”

Rasha tapped her halberd. “Are you going to buy books? But that’s not going to be enough, right?” Rasha held her chin in deep thought. “You need someone to show you. So…How are you going to get a Principle Mage back here?”

“A place full of Beast-kin.” Ulyaa sighed, rubbing her spider half. “I’m not even passable as a human…Unless they think humans can have a giant butt.”

“How are we going to do that I wonder?” Verona sniggered, throwing a devilish look to Kal. Kal rolled her eyes while Cetina remained perfectly rigid.

“I think I have an idea,” Anton said dryly. “But we’ll see.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Verona continued to snigger. “I’m sure those Principle Mages spend a lot of time buried in books.” Verona wrapped Anton’s arm around her. “Then some powerful handsome man comes along and sweeps her away-”

“We’ll see.” Anton ruffled her head. “I don’t think I can just sweep someone away from their lives with just my charming words and a lovely smile.”

Ulyaa and Rasha smiled, though Ulyaa glanced at Cetina, still completely rigid.

“Why are you so tense, Cetina?”

“I…No reason.”

Ulyaa’s smile began to mimic Verona’s. “Oh…Wow. You’re actually…”

“What?” Rasha’s eyes darted between the two. Cetina remained perfectly still, Ulyaa simply laughed.

“If you don’t know then I won’t tell you.”

Rasha snorted dismissively. “I hate not know what’s happening. Anton, what are they talking about?”

“Another time,” Anton said. Verona laughed and wormed a finger underneath his shirt. “But, back on track, once we do find someone willing to travel here we’re going to need everyone that’s got a decent amount of mana to start practising. I don’t expect everyone to be able to do what I do…But even weak mages can be pretty dangerous.”

Some middling mages could have almost killed me…

“And, Ulyaa, since you’ve got one of the highest amounts of mana I wanted to ask if you wanted to become a Principle Mage.”

“Me?” Ulyaa pointed at her chest, then to her spider body. “You want me. Me. To become a mage?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No.” Ulyaa scratched her head. “I…I don’t know what to say. Me? Able to throw fireballs and lightning around like you?"

“Among other things.” Verona nodded. “Principle Mages can do a lot more than we can, though they need to practice a lot more. It’s a trade-off, but I think a good one.”

Verona grumbled, scratching at the red marks licking at her chin. “At least you won’t go mad if you drink a drop of blood."

Ulyaa ran a hand through her long black hair, the other fidgeting nervously. “Well, I can’t read.”

“We can solve that,” Anton said. “It’s not that difficult to learn."

“We just need to actually focus on learning how to do it,” Verona mumbled softly.

“Okay…” Ulyaa chuckled. “I’ll give it a go. I won’t be intruding on anyone’s territory, will I?”

“Why would you think that?” A quick bump from Verona reminded him of the implications. “No. I don’t think you would be. Besides, it would really help me to see a Beast-kin mage. A very good image, here and for the future.”

Stories of a Beast-kin mage would definitely spread quickly amongst the slaves of Seocuria. Maybe help prepare for our liberation.

“Right…” Ulyaa’s eyes darted to the ground. “What about Eider? How was her magic?”

“She doesn’t have much.” Anton shrugged lightly. “Like most people. But tell her that her venom will be incredibly useful once we get my special project working.”

“Poison things?” Verona asked. “I’ve seen the drawings but I don’t quite get it still.”

“You will understand the moment that you see it.” Anton smiled. “But this can be done right now.”

“Not much to do here other than make sure the Dark Elves settle in.” Kal looked at Calo and Sheso. “But they seem to be doing alright, for now at least. Let’s see how they go when all the clans start arriving in large numbers.”

Calo nodded. “It should be alright. They know that the Green Moon, I mean us, didn’t want this to happen in the first place.”

Sheso averted her eyes towards the ground, kicking at the dry grass. “We didn’t want almost everyone we know to be killed.”

“We’ll leave as soon as we are ready.” Anton clapped his hands, startling many. “While we’re gone, Kal, can you try and teach Ulyaa and Rasha how to read? Rasha doesn’t have much mana in her but the more people that know how to read the better.”

“I’ll do my best,” Rasha said softly.

Kal leant up and kissed Anton. “Make sure you come back during the night. I don’t want to be left alone while you three are carousing through Seocuria and Graterious.”

Anton kissed her back. “Of course. We’ll leave…Tomorrow. Doesn’t feel right leaving just so soon after getting back.”

“And we were supposed to be taking it easier.” Verona pointed to the clouds hanging over Atros, hiding the weak blue sky. “It’ll start snowing soon too. I’d love to be back in Atros when it does start to fall.”

“I haven’t seen snow before either.” Anton paused. “Or have I…”

The mind splitting headache struck again, driving him to double over and clutch his chest in a desperate attempt to breathe. Everyone rushed to his side, though not all understood what was happening.

“Another one?” Verona asked, worry drenching her face.

“Yeah.” Anton gently held her hand. “Guess I can’t think too hard about…”

“I’m fine.” Anton smiled and raised his hands. “See? Regardless, we need to get ready. Better that we keep moving rather than linger on unnecessary worries.”

Again everyone didn’t look entirely convinced but Anton wasn’t about to continue the conversation. As ever his personal memories before arriving in this world were essentially off limits. He didn’t want to ponder, lest he received the slight pangs of a constricting heart, at what it was hiding. No one spoke a word about it for the rest of the day.

---[]---

Boreana, the capital city of Graterious lay before Anton, Verona and Cetina arrived in. The journey was uneventful, the border between Seocuria and Graterious was defined not by a wall but a simple river, one side dry and arid the other lush and green. After paying a handful of copper coins they were allowed through, not once did either the Seocurian or Graterious guards check them or their belongings. If Kal had joined them it probably would have been far more difficult, it was the right decision for her to remain in Atros, though he didn’t mind returning to Atros and surprising Kal in their home. Once past the border they simply rode past the cities and towns to reach Boreana as quickly as possible.

Boreana was absolutely massive, so large that it took Anton several seconds to properly understand what he was seeing. The city extended for miles, far larger than Clausonne, surrounded by massive white walls with a castle, possibly larger than the entirety of Clausonne, resting in the centre on top of a large hill. Rather than resting it completely encompassed the hill. White spires, great banners flapping in the wind, adorned the perimeter of the internal castle walls. Anton’s eyes were drawn to another set of spires next to a river running through the city. It appeared to be an ideal location for a magical academy.

“I wonder if mages here have a propensity to build giant towers.” Anton chuckled. “To conduct all sorts of nefarious experiments.”

“Is this a thing from Earth?” Verona asked. “I thought you said magic wasn’t a thing there.”

“It’s not. But, sometimes we like to hope and pretend.”

They re-joined the thick stream of merchants, traders and peasants travelling to the city. Again the decision for Kal to remain in Atros was proven correct; people jostled for space, many trying to ride and run around slower caravans and carts. Anton felt something brush against his leg. A thief was trying to open his pack. His hand touched the buckle and his body turned completely rigid before falling onto the dry dirt road. Someone behind shouted loudly, their horse rearing in protest to the sudden pull on its reins before stomping on the young man. Anton didn’t stop or look back, the thief had made his choice.

As they approached the city gates the columns of travellers began to slow to an absolute crawl. Just like Porswea the exterior of the city was home to a slum city, though this was far better maintained than Porswea’s, simply because of its proximity to the seat of power. Heavily armoured soldiers patrolled the lines of travellers, only to keep the peace and those from the slum away. These looked nearly identical to those at Porswea, except more heavily armoured and wearing purple instead of red. Food, equipment and women, and more disturbingly young girls and boys, were offered up to the waiting columns. Anton chose a few cooked pieces of meat, double checked they all had a poison immunity enchantment, and paid the young man well. Unfortunately, this proved to be a slight mistake as they were immediately flooded with hawkers with all manner of goods and items thrust towards them. They quickly relented when they realised it was only going to be one purchase.

“Any day now.” Anton murmured.

Cetina chuckled. “It’s not that bad. It’s a lot faster than it was in Porswea.”

Anton waited for the inventible shudder of recollection but it never came. He didn’t want to say that she was getting over it, but it was a massive improvement. Part of him hoped it wasn’t because he was bedding her.

Cetina glanced to her side and kicked away a young person trying to approach her pack.

“Cetina? That special box. Is it back home or do you have it with you?”

“I put it in the treasury.” Cetina leant back, a slight frown on her face and tapped the pack. “Yep. It’s back there.”

“Were you thinking of having a Principle Mage have a look at it?” Verona leant over.

“Just a thought.” Anton shrugged. “But I’m sure the…Bad people would find it in a few seconds. They had Lord Cassius under their thrall, after all.” Anton held his chin. “Come to think of it, we can’t be sure if it was Ferula or her followers that actually did that.”

“No one should be touching the thing until we figure out more about it anyway,” Cetina said resolutely.

“Move forward.” A soldier waved them towards one of the many branches of travellers breaking away from the main column, some kind of inspection point before the gate. “We don’t have all day for you.”

Anton wanted to quip something but kept his trap shut. The guards brought them to a halt, immediately moving to Anton.

“What is the purpose of your visit?” His tone was not demanding, just that they appeared to be nothing more than vagabonds. Well-dressed but essentially still drifters.

“I have a writ allowing me access to the Royal Academy,” Anton spoke calmly but firmly as he passed over the roll of paper.

The soldiers gingerly took the document, just in case Anton was telling the truth, and quickly scanned the contents. He gave a curt nod and returned the paper.

“Look for the second group of white spires. You can’t miss it.” The soldier raised his mailed hand again. “And don’t think about using any magic inside Boreana, if you’re a mage. Unless you want the Magic Corp to come and get you. And you don’t want that.”

It makes sense they would have something like that. Hell, that’s what I’m trying to make.

“That won’t be a problem.”

Didn’t someone say the Emperor had Griffons and Drakes? Dragons? Definitely not someone I want to get on their bad side. No wonder Cassius wants us to join him.

The soldier waved them through, seemingly content to believe everything else upon them was safe. People filled the streets, moving in great waves all jostling for space. Though they were wide the sheer number of people made navigation tricky. Anton didn’t want to dismount and be swamped by the tides of humanity, their horse’s bulk was more than enough to force their way through. Multiple story buildings surrounded them as they pushed through city blocks that were arranged in near perfect squares, the smells of cooking food filled the air along with other sweeter and more exotic smells. Verona visibly restrained and told herself that they would have a chance later. The river running through Boreana, running from the west to the east, was…disgusting. The smell wasn’t bad but the colour of the water left much to be desired. He looked up the wide, dirty river, some small boats travelled along like gondolas, and saw the river upstream was perfectly clear. Small drains led from the brick walls forming the edges of the river, all with small trickles of raw sewage draining into the once pristine water.

Such a waste of nature’s beauty. Not much they can do about it if they want this many people in one place.

“Are we going to stop here for the night?” Verona asked as they neared the Royal Academy. “Get a comfy little bed for us…” Verona snapped her fingers. “Still haven’t got that bed from The Shadow Isles. You’d love it, Cetina. So much more comfortable than what we have.” Verona sniggered. “So much better when we’re bouncing around.”

Cetina coughed, trying to push away such emotions and memories. Anton knew that she was more than willing once her buttons had been pressed.

“Actually…” Anton looked to the Royal Academy then to the castle, really a giant palace. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, at least not yet. If they can tell that we’re using magic inside the city then they’ll probably know we’re using the portal. Even if it’s something different for Glyph to Principle magic they’ll know something’s going on.”

“Damn.”

“Which also means no presents.” Anton chuckled. “At least nothing big. Maybe a few pieces of jewellery. Something nice for everyone.”

“Could…” Cetina gently tapped just below her neck.

“I’ll get you a nice necklace.” Anton smiled. “A seashell on a piece of string really isn’t something that I should be giving out to someone like you.”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Verona laughed. “But you probably should get something a little better. Something that’ll really make sure your new concubines are loyal.”

“Concubines?” Anton asked. “As in multiple?”

Verona laughed. “Yep.”

Anton made note of several expensive jewellery stores and other places where he might be able to find some beautiful gifts. Seeing their smiles was worth it.

The shops began to change as they approached the Royal Academy. Gone were the everyday useful items, now books, items and materials that looked like they could be useful in preparing magic filled the large glass windows. There were no criers this far, the people travelling these areas appeared to be very rich or were some sort of mage, they looked very similar to the mages from Porswea; a loose brightly coloured robe with a rope tied around their waist. Groups of all ages mingled amongst one another, at least on a cursory glance there wasn’t any discrimination based around age.

As the Royal Academy came into view Anton grumbled, bringing their horses to a halt. The gate, the only visible entrance in the large wall surrounding the academy, was protected by a wall of heavily armoured Boreana soldiers. Their shield and weapons shone with an unnatural light. Magic.

“Just in case there are any unruly mages.” Anton chuckled. “I wonder if we can buy any.”

“I imagine they’ll cost a fortune.” Cetina mused. “If they’ll even let you buy them. Buying a sword or crossbow is one thing but something like that…They could be the same as a noble’s families heirlooms.”

“Once they’ve been made they…Do they need maintenance?” Anton received only light shrugs. “Something to keep track of with Shawn and Jocelyn’s weapons. Don’t want them running out in a fight.”

Anton manoeuvred them to the side of the main thoroughfare of traffic and dismounted their horses. It would be incredibly rude to simply ride up and expect free passage, the least they could do is be a little humble.

The soldiers watched them approach, Anton with the roll of paper in his hands, while they let the mages through unmolested.

A soldier raised his hand, the mailed glove shone lightly. “Access is restricted to the Royal Academy. Unless you have business inside I must ask you to turn around.”

Anton unfurled Cassius’s writ. “I have the documentation to enter.”

The soldier read the writ, far more carefully than the guards outside. His finger tapped near the bottom.

“And I take it you are Anton?”

“Indeed I am.”

“But it only mentions you…”

“These are my travelling companions.” Anton smiled.

The guard took a final glance at the writ before returning it to Anton. “Very well. You have permission to enter. There are stables to your right, please don’t bring your horses any deeper into the Royal Academy. Your property will be protected.”

“Thank you.”

The guards stepped to one side and allowed them passage. Giant marble buildings greeted them once inside, tall and beautiful edifices that teemed with life, almost all of which were mages, mostly young mages. Anton spied some that looked like maids and other assistants trailing behind those that looked particularly rich with their heads cast down low as they carried books or magical items. Some even carried their master’s staff’s and charms, something without all Principle Mages would be effectively useless.

The stable was equally as grand. A pair of guards patrolled the entrance, a myriad of people behind taking care of their beasts. Again some horses had private security, security that eyed them suspiciously as they passed.

“Do you want me to stay with the horses?” Cetina asked. “I don’t like the idea of leaving them alone.

“I think you should come with us,” Anton spoke softly. “I’d prefer that we travel in a group, in a place with so many potential threats. I think I could take a few but probably not a teacher or a Master…well, not easily at any rate.”

Cetina took the pack containing the portal stones and wore it on her back. The rest of their items, while annoying to lose, weren’t vital.

Anton frowned as a thought rolled through his head. “And how exactly do we find someone that’s willing to come with us?”

Verona shrugged. “Do what we did last time and just go with whatever happens. That’s how we got Cetina.”

Cetina raised a brow but said nothing.

“This…This might be a little different to that.” Anton began to scan the buildings for any possible hint of a clue. “These people live here, actually live here and aren’t constantly travelling. So that makes things very different. Why should they just leave for us? Even if it’s just every other day to travel to Atros?”

Anton sighed. “Perhaps we should have a wander through the Academy first, see what we can find? The students might be able to tell us more. Maybe not the rich ones but there must be someone willing to speak with us.”

Something went through Verona’s mind, her brows furrowed for a moment but the thought vanished. Or at least she just wasn’t willing to voice it.

Almost immediately they ran into a small group of mage students. On their collars they wore a single plaque, first-year students. More than enough to begin their search.

“Excuse me.” Anton tried to catch their attention. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Help goes through the back.” A mage replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Or is your employer fancying demented help?”

“What the fuck?” Verona was taken aback.

“At least he has some good taste.” The boy laughed, the others joined in.

Anton smiled. He wanted to hit them but that would do them no good, at least nothing more than a momentary sense of gratification. “I’m looking for a teacher, a lecturer. Do you know where the nearest is?”

The boy scoffed and walked away, his gaggle of friends following closely behind.

Verona blinked dramatically. “I’ll say it again. What the fuck is happening?”

“Compared to them we’re probably quite poor,” Anton said. “Remember the mages in the Basilisk Swamp? They were all sons of nobles or extremely talented. And we…don’t look like any of that.”

Anton rubbed his scruffy beard and long hair, he did look more than a bit rough. Verona was more passable but Cetina looked nothing more than a bodyguard and therefore not important.

“This could take a while.”

The fourth group of student mages was much, much more helpful than the next two, both of which were arrogant and dismissive. It also helped that Verona asked, putting on a face that brought out protective instincts in men, and quite a few women. Unfortunately, as they made their way to their destination, a lecture hall on the second level of one of the large buildings, they were stopped by a small group of mages. The ten men and women were old, not that age mattered much when dealing with magic and spells. Their staffs, with large and grandiose charms on top, not as big as Ferula’s but certainly quite impressive. Anton kept them all in sight, watching for one to start murmuring.

Though Belinda said that speaking the spell just made things easier, it wasn’t required. So they could have magic ready right now and are just waiting for us to make a dumb move.

“What do you three think you’re doing wandering around my Academy?” The lead mage, an old man, slightly stopped with a wizened beared and surprisingly thick grey hair, spoke with a soft but deep voice.

“We’re looking for a Principle Mage, a teacher, but your students have been rather difficult.”

“There’s an understatement,” Verona grumbled.

“They are not used to dealing with…people such as yourself inside this academy.” The man shuffled and tapped his staff lightly. Anton didn’t see any light or sign of magic but he couldn’t be sure. “Who are you looking for?”

“We’re not quite sure.” Anton shrugged, smiling as convincingly as he could. “But…How should I put this? We’re in need of a teacher ourselves.”

“Then you should try in the spring.” The old man lightly tapped his staff again. “New admissions arrive then, the students you see here are remaining over the winter to further their studies. Research and academic works will be done by then…Well, almost all…You can hire one then.”

“And who are you?” Verona asked. “I know Anton’s not going to ask but…”

“Galerius, Headmaster of the Graterious Royal Academy.”

Anton bowed and introduced himself and the girls. Galerius did not look impressed.

“A provincial Graterian, a Clanswoman and a Bebbezzarian.” Galerius chuckled. “An odd mix to come so far.”

“Indeed.” Anton smiled.

“Why did the guards let you in? I’m sure we would have known if you broke through.”

“Against those armoured men, I don’t want to try luck.” Anton produced the writ. “But I have this, granting me access to The Academy. Obviously, it doesn’t let me everywhere but the guards reminded us of that.”

A younger mage delicately took the writ, checking it for some kind of mark of authenticity, and passed it to Galerius. Galerius brought the roll of paper to his charm and began chanting underneath his breath. Verona looked extremely worried but Anton silently told her to relax; the moment they attacked it would be their last moments, no other mage had taken their eyes off them.

Galerius clicked his tongue and ushered the writ to be returned.

“It appears to be genuine.” Galerius shifted his weight to his staff. “I doubt that three, such as yourselves, could fabricate something like this on your own. Still, it does beg the question of how you managed to acquire this from Lord Cassius.”

“He owed us a favour,” Anton replied curtly.

Galerius slowly nodded. “Very well. You have the authority to travel these Academy grounds. But nothing in that writ dictates that we have to help you.”

Ah.

“So long as you don’t harass or intimidate anyone you are free to say.” Galerius smiled. “And see the wonders of the Graterious Royal Academy.”

“Thank you.” Anton bowed deeply. “I know we will enjoy our stay.”

Galerius smirked and trotted away, followed closely by the other mages.

“Now what?” Verona grumbled. “Guess it was a little too easy to get into this place, right?”

“We only asked Cassius to gain access.” Anton lightly clicked his fingers. “Anything more and we’d have to side with him in the upcoming…thing. But there must be someone that we can speak to, someone that’s willing to talk to us.”

“Just show some gold.” Verona shrugged. “That’ll get their attention.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Cetina said softly, glancing over her shoulder. “And I think we’re still being watched. They…They didn’t say anything about my eyepatch. And it’s still working.”

“Perhaps they didn’t know, or they thought that it might be a tad disrespectful to neutralise something that’s allowing you to see.”

Cetina slowly nodded.

“Let’s keep moving, see if we can find someone low on the social ladder.” Anton shrugged. “They might be more willing to listen. Someone ambitious trying to climb the ranks.”

Their search continued for some time but the few teachers and masters they managed to find were clearly not interested, not even interested in politely declining their offer.

Anton sighed as another mage walked away. “Word travels fast here. I wonder if they have something like we do.”

He tapped his wedding ring. “Didn’t say anything about this either.”

Anton turned his head, something twitched his ears. A familiar sound but not something he expected to hear inside a place of learning.

“Do you hear that?” Anton asked.

A faint cry cut through the silence of the Royal Academy, each time punctuated by a faint crack of lightning.

“Sounds like a fight,” Cetina said. “And not a fair one at that.”

“Let’s go.” Anton began walking. “It might be some sort of duel, there might be a teacher we can talk to. Better than doing what we’re currently doing.”

“You know it’s not going to work out that way.” Verona sniggered. “In a place with so many stuck up kids, completely and utterly full of their family’s names…What do you think’s going to happen?”

“I’d just prefer it to be an honest duel.” Anton murmured. “But it’s probably just going to be a one-sided beating.”

Cetina gripped her sword’s handle as they ran towards the noise. Strangely only a few students were following the noise, most simply didn’t care or were going out of their way not to notice, even the teachers. Worrying implications.

“Little bitch.” A female’s voice echoed through the white stone buildings. “You think you’re better than us?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Another cried out, immediately followed by a scream and another crack of lightning.

“Shut up.” The first girl yelled. “Why can you do it on your first try? I’ve been practising for almost an entire season!”

Anton passed the building just as another crack of lightning landed. Three girls stood in a small garden, another lying on the ground, huddled into a ball in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Unlike the three her clothes were torn to shreds, her exposed skin was red and in some spots badly burnt.

The lead girl of the three standing, with a slim staff in her hand, kicked the cowering girl hard in the backside.

“All because your…” She stopped and looked at the shadows cast by Anton. “Who are you?”

Anton glanced around, seemingly infuriating the girl. A few students, and more alarmingly teachers, were well within sight of this assault and did nothing to intervene. Most took clear and obvious effort to avoid noticing.

“I think you should stop,” Anton said softly.

“Here we go.” Verona smiled, quickly fading when she glanced at the cowering girl.

“And who are you?” The girl demanded. “I am-”

“Don’t really care.” Anton stepped forward. "Nor does it matter. But I don’t think you should be bullying someone like that.”

“This has nothing to do with you, peasant.”

“She really wants a spanking, doesn’t she?” Verona chuckled. “Anton’s told me how you defeated that Fire Mage. Want to try that again?”

“My shield?” Cetina raised her brow. “I don’t want to hit a little girl though.”

The young mage’s eye twitched, her followers looked rather nervous.

“You dare threaten me?" She stomped her foot angrily onto the stone ground. "When my father hears about this-"

"Go tell him then." Anton knelt by the cowering girl. "Tell him exactly what you did to her and why. I'm sure he'll be impressed. Now. Go away."

Up close the girl’s wounds weren't as grievous as Anton feared. They weren't great but she would recover relatively quickly, even without his magic.

As Anton took off his cloak, completely ignoring the trio but keeping them well within his sights, the three began to fidget nervously, the lead holding her small staff tight while the other two, remaining well in her shadow, looked ready to leave. Verona folded her arms and nodded to Cetina, and the sword hanging from her waist.

“Unless you want to get spanked.” Verona laughed. “I’m sure your butt would look great glowing bright red.”

"You haven't seen the last of me!" The girl snapped, turning away and flicking her hair dismissively, throwing her nose into the air. "My father and mother will hear about this. Let's see if you're still here by spring after I’ve spoken with them."

She spared a final glance back but quickly continued on her way. Anton realized he was scowling angrily, with one hand on a dagger.

Did they think I was about to fight them?

Anton stood up, brushing the few specks of dirt from his knees.

Maybe she's never had anyone talk back to her? I hope my kids don't end up like that. They'll certainly have the money and name to do it.

Anton offered his hand to the young girl. She remained perfectly still and motionless, apart from her eyes, tracking the trio until they were long gone. With a sigh she rolled onto her rear, thrusting both hands behind her to sit upright. Her front had received comparatively little damage but the pain was clear on her face.

“Thank you.” The girl forcefully smiled, ruffling her short blonde hair. “I didn’t think they’d be that bad today. Usually they’re not so mean to me…”

She tried to stand up but cried out in pain. She scrunched her green eyes, tears running down her lightly freckled face, dusted with patches of white dust from the stone ground. Anton knelt down again, shooting daggers at the few teachers that were content to simply watch the spectacle unfold.

“What’s your name?”

“Axia.” The girl smiled. She pulled the cloak tight around her body. “Thank you. I’ll get a healing later. At least I won’t be walking back naked.”

“Why were those three attacking you?” Verona asked, crouching beside her. Axia glanced at Verona’s chest, the armour couldn’t hide them fully, then flicked up to her face. “Is it because you’re better than them?”

Axia scoffed. She dismissively threw her hand, revealing that her clothes were full of holes. She pulled the cloak around her body tight.

“No. At least I don’t think so. I…Today we were asked to create a level three fireball, as part of a test. I could and they couldn’t. They must’ve thought that I cheated somehow.”

“How could you possibly cheat?” Anton asked. “Is there some way to enhance your abilities beyond your natural talent? Doping? Probably dangerous in the long run.”

“I…I don’t think so.” Axia frowned lightly. “There are meant to be things like that but…You’d know that, right? Oh. Is this like some sort of test?”

She was genuinely excited by the prospect.

“Not really.” Anton smiled faintly. “I’m not a teacher from any academy, even outside of Graterious.”

“You are very strange for a Mage.” Axia blinked twice. “Well…They must have thought that my mother helped me. Not with magical artefacts but with training. Ice and water magic are her speciality, but she can use some fire and earth magic too.”

“That was easy,” Verona mumbled softly through a smile.

Anton gently nodded. “But…If she’s a teacher why isn’t she stopping this?”

Axia frowned lightly.

“I understand that you should be learning to fend for yourself.” Anton pointed to the where burn marks once lay. “But this is a little bit much, even for the most Spartan of parents.”

Axia sighed. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to…At least I think she does. It can be…difficult. Difficult to understand what she’s thinking some times. But a lot of people here are from very rich families, and they can get people removed from the Academy if they want.”

Axia nodded to where the trio headed. “She’s always doing things like that, don’t know if anyone listens...”

Axia pulled the cloak tight, tucked her legs to her chest and shook her head.

“Your mother keeps her head down and just has to watch this happen to you?”

Axia glumly nodded. “It’s okay…” A sadness filled her eyes. “I can’t get her into trouble, no matter what. I don’t think she can live anywhere else but here. She has a tough time talking to people as it is. Outside...”

Axia’s eyes lit up. “Would you like to meet her? I’m sure she’d like to speak with someone. She doesn’t have many people that come to her lectures so...Though she doesn’t say much I know she’s really sad.”

“Sure.” Anton stood up, delicately taking Axia’s hand. “I’d be delighted. Could you lead the way? We don’t exactly know our way around here yet.”

---[]---

Axia guided them through the sprawling buildings, not caring or giving the other students or teachers a second glance. And in return neither did they. The condition of the buildings began to degrade, the white marble darkened and grew rougher as they approached a small building near the wall, just to the side of a large spire. The spire and wall were well maintained, unlike the surrounding buildings. Anton hoped her mother wasn’t living in some shack tucked away; out of sight, out of mind.

“Mother isn’t living in some shack.” Axia picked up on Anton’s concern. “It’s not the best in the Academy but it’s a lot better than most people outside.”

What did she mean she wouldn’t be able to live outside? A magical affliction? Disease? That’s not going to be a problem for me…I hope.

Axia stopped at a door on the second level. She breathed deep, pulled the cloak tighter, and knocked on the door.

“Mother? Are you there?” Axia glanced back. “It’s Axia. Are you in or out?”

“The door’s unlocked.” A calm and soft voice came through.

Axia sighed and pushed the door open. “Mother, you can’t just leave the door like that. You know that it’s dangerous here…Especially here.”

A figurative cyclone had clearly just passed through; dusty books, scraps and reams of paper lay scattered everywhere, all slowly gravitating to the floor. Heavy dark blue gemstones tried in vain to weigh down the piles.

Axia shook her head and led them through a rough pathway, picking up the loose papers and gently placing them on a random pile. Anton took a peek; every page bristled with mathematical formula that completely boggled his mind.

“Mother? Where are you?” Axia leant around a pile of books. “You need to come out to greet people when they come to visit…”

“I’m over here.” The voice came from an adjacent room through the slight maze of papers and books, the door held ajar by a particularly thick book.

Axia sighed, retrieved the book and pushed open the door. On the far side of the room, surrounded by more magical constructions and gemstones, sat a young woman in front of a large messy table, the spitting image of an adult Axia. She glanced up from her desk, her face completely devoid of emotion as she looked at her daughter. She was quite pretty; short blonde hair framing her light-skinned face, soft green eyes alongside a light dusting of freckles with a slim body visible even underneath her loose light blue Principle Mage’s robes.

“Who are they?” Her soft voice didn’t fit her emotionless face.

Axia forced a smile. “These are the people that saved me from Jessi and her friends.”

Her mothers’ eyes darted to her paper, Axia closed her eyes and turned away. As Axia gently shook her head her mother raised her hand towards her daughter, they scrunched tight before dropping to the table, all the while her face barely moved.

“My name is Anton,” Anton spoke slowly and calmly. “And these are my companions, Verona and Cetina."

“Mezot.” The woman returned the nod, to the exact same degree. “My name is Mezot.”

An oppressive silence filled the air.

Anton coughed lightly. “Your daughter is safe. A group of students were attacking her with magic. Quite badly too, while everyone else simply watched on.”

Mezot’s eyes again flicked to Axia but she didn’t say or move anything other than her hand tightening to a fist.

“Are you alright?” Verona frowned deeply, leaning forward while planting a hand on her hip. “Your daughter was just attacked, if we didn’t intervene she could be really badly hurt. Or dead. So…”

Mezot gently placed her dip pen down, flexed her hands and breathed deeply. “Are…Are you alright? A-Axia?”

Axia’s face brightened. “Yes. I am now, mother.”

Axia smiled at Verona.

“How can I repay you?” Mezot’s finger tapped on the pen. “I should repay…Help.”

Anton glanced at Verona and Cetina. “We were actually looking for some help ourselves when we came across your daughter.”

“I don’t think I can be much help.” Mezot ran a hand through her hair. Dry black ink stained her fingertips, none touched her blonde hair. “I must finish my work. If I don’t I’m…”

Mezot shook her head. “I…I just need to focus.”

Cetina tapped Anton’s and Verona’s sides. “She sounds like she’s about to snap under some sort of stress. Is Principle Magic that stressful?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

Mezot’s nearly blank eyes returned to the sprawling pages in front of her. They darted from page to page of mathematical formula with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

It's like she's just becoming overwhelmed...I wonder...

“But…” Anton leant very close, so Axia couldn’t hear. “I think she might have some sort of condition.”

“Strega Witch?” Verona asked.

“No…” Anton watched Mezot’s eyes continue to scan the papers. “Not this time.”

“Mezot?” Anton’s words broke her from her trance. “What do you know about Glyph Magic?”

Something clicked behind her eyes. She slapped the table, spilling drops of ink onto the papers, not that she cared or was even aware.

“Glyph Magic is a source of magic that’s different, yet similar to Principle Magic.” Mezot’s hands began to shake, in happiness rather than nerves or fear.

“Unlike Principle Magic…” Mezot scrambled through the piles of paper behind her revealing a staff, topped with a modest sized silver charm containing five large blue gems. “Glyph Magic is able to use the body’s own natural conduits to shape and channel mana. It’s considered the first type of magic to ever exist, drawing from ancient gods of the land-”

“Mother?”

“-predating even written language. It is suspected that the first users of Glyph Magic, through worshipping the Old Gods, laid the foundation for all Empires and Kingdoms around the world. They-”

“Mother?” Axia rested a hand on her hip.

“-could easily dominate those without magic, fend off attackers, be they other people or hostile creatures, and form small towns and cities under their rule. People would flock to them simply because they could defend their lands from threats that would require over an order of magnitude more people to face. And from that safety nations would rise.”

“Sounds like us.” Verona mused.

“But it is very simple compared to Principle Magic.” Mezot let her staff fall, rolling away to collapse on a small pile of paper. “Principle Magic is far more complex, which is an advantage and disadvantage. It takes longer to create similar magic but it uses far less mana. It’s also far more difficult to unbind and unravel the mana used to create magic-”

“Mother!” Axia’s shout stopped Mezot. “You’re…”

Mezot’s eyes flicked to her daughter than to Anton. For a moment he swore tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She stood up, knocking the ink vial over, and ran from the room. The door slammed closed, leaving everyone in a stunned silence.

“I...” Verona shook her head. “What did we just see?”

“I’m sorry.” Axia smiled bitterly. “Mother’s been like that as long as I can remember. I…Sometimes she’s like a stone and then when she’s talking about magic she turns so…”

Axia raised her hands and let them drop dramatically to her sides.

“But she’s going to okay?” Anton asked.

“She’ll be fine. Just give her a little time and she’ll be back…And just like she was before.”

“Hyper-focused on certain things…Is this what you mean by that she can’t live outside?”

Axia nodded. The door slowly creaked open. Mezot returned, the excitement and elation had completely disappeared, her hands gripped tight.

“I…I’m sorry you saw that.” Mezot bowed her head, again an exact duplicate of Anton’s. She glanced at her daughter. “Sometimes I can get too…focused, on my work.”

Axia hugged her mother. It took a second but it was returned, a genuine display of warmth, even visible in her eyes.

“Mezot.” Anton began. “I want to try something, if I may.”

“What do you need?” Mezot’s fingers flexed. She looked to her half buried staff, uncaring that it was underneath piles of papers. “I can only really use magic, ice and water magic at that.”

Mezot raised her hand, murmured something under her breath, and a large icicle emerged. It was longer than his head, the ice perfectly clear and without imperfection. Her fingers flexed and the icicle disappeared back into the ether. Despite the truly impressive display of magic Mezot seemed despondent. Her eyes fell upon her body, her clothes perfectly flat against her chest.

“My body...”

“I believe that I might have a way to…clear your thoughts. Perhaps. I think that you get overwhelmed by certain things and your mind just stops, focusing so hard on what’s in front of you that the rest of the world just falls away, and you can't escape unless someone drags you out of it. Like working on those pages or talking about magic.”

Mezot blinked. “How did you know?”

“I just had a feeling. But I think I might be able to help.” Anton touched Mezot’s shoulder, she twitched but didn’t recoil. “If you’ll let me.”

Mezot nodded. “Are you a Life Mage?”

"Kind of." Anton looked to the still open doorway. "Is it going to be a problem if I use magic here? They might not like my particular school of magic."

"Necromancer?" Mezot's face remained blank. "Each of the buildings is protected, magic can still be used but no one can detect what is being used inside."

"So no one can steal another's research?" Anton asked. "Does that happen a lot?"

Mezot nodded.

That could be dangerous. Assassination through magic, and no one would be able to tell. Not that I have such an intention.

“I’m no necromancer. But I’m sure they’ll dislike it regardless. Here goes. Tethra, Goddess of Prayer, heal this woman’s body and mind. May her mind be cleared of anything negative ailments and conditions.”

Mezot coughed as the prayer’s magic coursed through her body. Axia looked up at her mother, holding her tight. Mezot blinked, her eyes focused and gained some clarity but not to a normal person.

“How do you feel?” Anton asked.

“What…” Mezot raised and looked at her hands. “What was…Was that Glyph Magic?”

“It was.” Anton removed his glove to show the three small glyph marks. “Tethra, the Goddess of Prayer.”

“That…” Mezot blinked, took a deep breath and moved to her chair. “Was different.”

Mezot returned to her papers, ignoring those stained with ink. She began to sift through the papers, organising them into some sort of order rather than just staring blankly at the piles.

“I thought you healed her,” Verona whispered, Axia looked to them confused.

“I did. But…Remember the Emperor’s son? Where Ferula said that even she couldn’t fix something?”

“Yeah. But this doesn’t sound like that.”

Anton held his ring. “Because it’s an affliction of the mind. And something that might not be able to be healed. Something she was born with. I don’t know what the correct name of it is, or what it would be called here, but it’s like she can become hyper-focused on things she enjoys.”

“So it’s not a problem?” Verona asked. She looked at Mezot, finally a frown on her face, as the stacks of organized paper grew quickly. “Seems like it might be.”

“But she’s okay?” Cetina asked. “Like in her mind. I don’t know if a mage can use magic if they’re crazy.”

“She has a kid,” Anton said. “And she seems fine, minus what we've just witnessed, of course.”

“So she’s ideal.” Verona sniggered. “You might have your work cut out of you this time, but I don’t think you’ll get another chance to whisk away some Principle Mage. A teacher, I might add. This is probably going to be it for a long time.”

“Is it going well over there?” Kal asked. “Just sounds like Verona’s being herself.”

“We might have our mage.” Anton laughed. “Just need to completely work things through and we should be fine.”

“Right…Be safe, everyone.”

Anton removed his hand from the ring. “Mezot?”

Mezot looked up. The papers on her desk, those that weren’t covered in ink, had been neatly stacked. If they were in order Anton had no idea. Those stained with ink had been discarded and Axia had retrieved her staff.

“This…” Mezot raised her hands over the papers. “My head is a little clearer than normal. The words and numbers are not…overwhelming. I’m not becoming lost in them…So easily at least. I’d like to know how that worked.” Mezot took her staff. “I’ve never seen Glyph Magic in person before. Only what the books describe.”

"We aren't the most common of magic users." Anton smiled. "But I've been told they do exist, shouldn't be too hard for someone like you, a teacher in the Royal Academy, to find one."

“I…” Mezot looked almost embarrassed. “I don’t leave the Academy often. Now that I think about it I might not have left since last winter.”

Mezot stared at the papers on her desk. Axia tapped her shoulder when it was clear she was becoming lost in the words, though nowhere near as bad as before.

“Thank you again for saving my daughter.” Mezot attempted a smile. “I know that Axia gets bullied by some of the students but there’s not a lot that I can do. I'm a teacher, not a Master. And then I’ve got my thesis and I can get lost in my writings so easily…”

“You might not be able to interfere but that doesn’t mean Axia should just take it lying down.” Anton turning to the young girl. “Do you have friends?”

“Not really.” Axia scratched her arm. “They talk to everyone before I can say anything…”

Anton held his chin. “And you can’t really fight back for the sake of your mother, and they have some pretty powerful families. Your options are rather limited. You may just have to run really fast in the future.”

Axia smiled. “I’m usually pretty good at getting away. They don’t allow fighting during class, afterwards…Not so much.”

Mezot sighed. “And I could be thrown out if I don’t get my thesis completed soon.”

"I take it this thesis is extremely important."

Mezot frowned. "You can't just take a thesis..." Axia coughed and nudged her mother's side. "Oh. Right. They are important. And I don't have one yet. So that means I'm not a Master yet. And..."

Mezot gripped her hands tight. "I can't afford to stay here if I'm not."

"We might be able to help." Anton looked for a chair. Axia brushed away a pile, revealing two hidden chairs. He and Verona accepted them, Cetina gestured she would stand. "We have more than enough money to cover any expenses."

"Why do you want to help me?" Mezot looked over her body. "I'm clearly not desirable."

"Well, I don't know about that." Mezot remained blankly faced, something was moving in Axia's mind. "But we need people that know Principle Magic. And, more importantly, someone that can teach it. Which, if your daughter speaks the truth, fits you perfectly."

Mezot frowned, looking down over her body again.

This could get...

"I can't just leave," Mezot spoke very calmly. "And while you helped my daughter and my...Mind, I don't know who you are."

"I understand completely." Anton leant back into the chair. "I would be a bit concerned if you decided to just join us right away. If we helped you complete this thesis of yours, and since this place is shielded from outside scrutiny, you could stay here and teach us."

"I might not be the best teacher.” Mezot gripped her dip pen hard. “No one comes to my Ice and Water magic lectures. And few to my demonstrations.”

“Some people come.” Axia smiled. “And they’ve always been there.”

Well, it might be a bit hard for people here, a lot of whom are used to having servants, to deal with Mezot’s oddities and with a very narrow field of magic…No wonder she’s struggling. Definitely not doing much for her self-esteem. I imagine it’s virtually zero right now.

“So what do you have to say? We help you with your thesis, so you don’t have to worry about losing your job, and you help us.” Anton nodded. “How does that sound?”

Mezot looked at her daughter. “Axia. What-What do you think?”

Axia stared into their eyes, a smile crept up her face. “I think we should. If you don’t they’re going to throw you out. And since you don’t have a noble backing anymore…”

“So how did you become a teacher here?” Verona asked softly. “I don’t think they’d just let you in…You learnt everything in this place, correct?”

Mezot glumly nodded. “I was born in a small village near the coast. They found that I could magic early …but my family couldn’t afford to send me here. So…” Mezot gripped her hands tight. “They married me to a minor noble. That’s how I gave birth to Axia.”

“So you’re married?” Verona sounded slightly disappointed.

Anger flashed over Mezot’s face. “No. No, I’m not. We travelled here together but he found someone else that could use magic.” She stared at Verona’s chest with a silent, envious fury. “A young woman with…” Mezot pointed at Verona’s chest. “That!”

Mezot calmed herself, breathing deep and straightening her back. Though the robes were loose they pulled tight against her chest. Mezot lacked any sign of the usual defining features of a woman, at least her top half.

Mezot flexed her fingers. “He left me with my daughter and I’ve haven’t seen him since. I don’t know what he’s doing now or if he's even still alive. I don’t even think about it.”

Axia gently held her mother’s hand.

“I’ve still got a little time before my thesis needs to be completed.” Mezot looked at her papers. “And I’m not going to get it done like this.”

Mezot looked Anton dead in the eyes. “I agree to your terms.”

Anton clapped his hands, Mezot recoiled slightly at the noise. “So how can we help with this thesis of yours? And what is it anyway?”

Mezot’s previous burst of energy and excitement returned. “I’m trying to create a new type of Ice magic. A new application. A new form. I have most of the formula but I need some additional components to complete it. But…I don’t have the money for it. So I’ve been trying to work out a way around it and…”

“So what’s the piece?”

“A Wyrm heart,” Mezot said calmly. “Once I have that I can easily finish my thesis.”

“How does a Wyrm heart help you?” Verona asked. “How does a heart fix anything?”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Mezot looked to one of the pieces of paper. “But with it, I can finish my new magic in under a day.”

“And we get this…”

“From…Bebbezzar.” Mezot looked to the north-west. “That’s the only place where they can be found. At least on this continent. It’s incredibly expensive and rare…so….”

“We’ll see what we can do.” Anton stood up. “If we can get you one you’ll agree to help us?”

Mezot stared dumbfounded until Axia jabbed her side again. “Yes. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Excellent. Now…Do you have somewhere slightly private? We need a room. A room without reams and reams of paper.”

“Only the bedroom.” Axia looked up to her mother, nearly rolling her eyes. “But even that’s starting to fill up.”

Mezot idly played with her pen. Maybe with the healing she would be able to focus on other things a little easier.

“I have another room…But it’s a mess.”

“Can you help us?” Axia asked.

“Of course.” Anton smiled. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Axia laughed. “You say that…”

“Are we going to bring the horses in here?” Verona asked, tugging on his sleeve. “I don’t want them staying here with all these mages.”

“The corridor was more than wide enough to bring them in.” Anton smiled. “Oh. Before we start.”

Anton retrieved a small pouch of gold coins and passed them to Axia. Her eyes practically bulged from her skull at the sight of so much wealth.

Anton winked. “Just something to tide you over, help things until we can get things going. Now,” Anton clapped his hands together. “How bad are we talking here?”

It was almost an hour before the room was cleaned.

Volume 05 - Chapter 03 - Alcanares, the Bebbezzar Port City

Chapter 168:

Salty sea air filled Anton’s lungs, at least once the distortion of the portal left them. Instead of the sea a barn interior greeted them. The small Lightning Crow, resting on the overhead beam happily flapped its wings, as if to let them know it had performed a fantastic job keeping everyone out. Thankfully there weren’t any bodies, dead or unconscious, inside the small warehouse.

“A Wyrm Heart sounds really difficult to acquire.” Kal mused, checking her mask was securely attached. “How big is one supposed to be?”

Anton gingerly opened the door. No one waited for them outside. Bebbezzarian guards, wearing the same style of armour as Cetina, albeit with more metal, patrolled the docks but the closest were over a hundred meters away and moving away.

“It’s clear.” Anton opened the door. “Since Bebbezzar is full of mercenaries it should be easy to find someone willing to talk. I didn’t spend long here after you landed in The Shadow Isles, I didn’t even enter the city itself.”

Cetina’s eyes began to water, a single trail of tears leaked through the corner of her eyepatch. She smiled and gently clapped her hands.

“I’m actually home again.” Cetina smiled. “I understand it’s not Thessos but actually being back in my country is…”

“We’ve probably got a bit of time to spend here.” Anton gently held Cetina’s hand. “So we can do a bit of extra shopping, if you're up for it.”

Verona laughed. “Maybe we can get some good furniture to go with our new bed. Better than those rickety old things we have. Oh, and a proper table for Anton to make drawings of his strange contraptions. But we’re going to have to pull it apart to get it through the portal. Oh well, it’s still going to be great.”

Anton led them along the Alcanares docks. In the distance, still far out at sea, a Dark Elf ship approached, not a sleek pirate vessel of the Green Moon but one of their normal ships, hopefully a ship filled with goods. If The Shadow Isles were to recover quickly they would need to trade with the outside world. The Mist Walker elders would no longer hold their trade with the wider world back. They had seen to that.

Kal grabbed Anton’s hand. “I can smell smoke.”

“We’re in a big city,” Anton said. He looked towards the city itself, nothing appeared to be burning more so than normal. “Is it just a different smelling wood? Dirtier coal for the forges?”

Kal shook her head. “No…It’s not that."

Anton stopped when they were nearly clear of the docks. Near the main entrance the warehouses had been completely burned to the ground, only a few burnt beams weakly pointing to the sky remained. The fire had long gone out but Anton could smell it now.

“Arson?” Verona asked. “Seems shitty, but not that bad. All things considered.”

Kal shook her head again. “It’s more than just this.”

Kal pointed deeper into the city. Most of the buildings had burn marks, several were destroyed and almost all were undergoing some sort of rebuilding and repair.

“Looks like a firestorm decided to sweep through the city.” Anton mused. “One of the dangers of having lots of wooden buildings packed so closely together. Let’s leave the dock before we ask someone.”

The dock guards barely gave them more than a cursory glance and allowed them into the city of Alcanares. Extensive destruction awaited them, entire city blocks had been reduced to rubble but the people didn’t hold the looks of survivors of a massive disaster. They were happy, a strange resilience in their eyes as they moved to and fro, conducting trade over a myriad of clothes, food and weapons, even in the shadow of their burnt homes. Weapons and armour appeared particularly popular; street vendors usually didn’t sell a near complete set.

“What attacked them?” Anton asked aloud.

“Probably those bandits…” Verona shrugged. “Communists, or whatever you called them. It’d be pretty easy and effective to set fire to a couple of buildings and run.”

“Doesn’t explain the number of weapons being sold,” Cetina said. She gripped the pommel of her sword. “It’s almost like a town on the frontier…”

“Where do you think we could get a Wyrm heart?” Anton asked. “Cost isn’t going to be an issue.”

“If I remember things correctly.” Cetina scratched her head. “And that was a long time ago, I believe that there were a lot of high priced goods further in and to the south a bit. No idea if it’s still there though.”

“Lead on.”

With Cetina taking the lead, constantly checking back to see if they were still following, Anton could take in more of the people of Alcanares. They were happy despite the destruction surrounding them.

“You good sir!” A vendor crier stepped into the traffic, Cetina backed up and readied her weapon to strike. “I have the deal of a lifetime for you.”

“I bet you do,” Anton spoke politely. “But I’m not interested.”

The man raised his hand. Cetina growled at him, he was taken aback by Cetina’s size and strength.

“I have an actual piece of a Demon.” He reached into a small bag and produced a small chunk of cooled lava. Only it wasn't lava, not judging by the small rivulets of a thin orange liquid running down one side.

“Is that…” Verona frowned and pulled on Anton’s hand.

“Where did you get this?” Anton asked. He tried to reach out but the man pulled it away.

“Sorry. But I just can’t let anyone touch this. It’s extremely rare-”

“That’s why you’re just throwing it at everyone that goes past?” Cetina asked. “I saw you shouting at people before.”

“He just got it from the central market.” A passer-by laughed. “Just picked it off the ground. Don’t believe a thing this charlatan says.”

“Fuck you!” The man grumbled and skulked away. After a few seconds, he had recovered and began hawking the piece of Demon hide at any passer-by that appeared to have the vaguest whiff of coin about them.

“Where is the central market?” Anton asked the passer-by.

He pointed to the north, towards a large pole with a yellow, red and blue flag. Anton gave his thanks as they hurried towards the flag. Something stood in the centre of the wide world plaza, something that stopped all four dead.

Six Demons, giant burnt dogs with a cooled magma hide, were strung up by their forearms, like a caught fish, around the flag pole on specially built wooden frames. A thick ring of Bebbezzarian soldiers, three deep, kept the crowds at bay. Rocks and pieces of wood were thrown at the Demon dogs, the soldiers only reprimanded those that accidentally, or deliberately, struck them.

“What the hell are those things doing here?” Verona asked.

“They said there’d be another invasion, another slip like Acidava, but not when.” Anton glanced at the devastation. “We were a couple of days late.”

The flow of people behind continued unabated and tried to force their way through, Verona shouted as someone took the opportunity to almost take a feel of her rear. Anton motioned them towards a raised stone platform, devoid of most stalls and people.

“They really messed over that middle one,” Verona said, rubbing her chin.

"Unnecessarily cruel," Cetina added.

“That’s not one of those dogs.” Kal murmured.

Kal spoke the truth. In the middle of the six dogs was another Demonic creature. At first, Anton thought it might have been a severed limb from another Demon Dog but upon closer inspection it was clearly anything but. The humanoid creature, smaller than the Demon dogs, had six arms, small obsidian claws for hands, thankfully only four claws rather than six. Its legs were similar to a humans, barring the charred skin while its pointed head, a broken jaw exposing a similar row of razor-sharp obsidian teeth, slumped down low, part of its side had clearly been blown apart. Six gnarled and warped swords, made from a bright red metal, lay propped up before its legs, each as long as a man tall.

“Six swords.” Anton rubbed his chin. “I wonder what that was like to fight.”

“An absolute mess.” A voice came from below. A young man, dressed in a modestly expensive set of metal armour, Bebbezzarian coloured cloth poking through the gaps, looked up and smiled. He finished ripping a piece of cooked meat from a kebab. “Killed a whole bunch of people too. A lot of people.”

“Three hundred and sixty-two.” A young woman, built very similar to Kal, turned to the man. She leant and gripped a staff tight, a red metalled charm on top with a single green crystal, brushing her short brown hair over her ear. "During the battle. I don’t know how many died from the flames.”

“Almost lost our entire party.” The man laughed. He slinked an arm around her, she jumped but clearly didn’t mind his presence, quite the opposite in fact. “If it weren’t for you we’d all be dead.”

“Stop it.” She lightly swatted him away.

“Excuse me for interrupting, we’ve only just arrived.” Anton began. “Could you tell us what happened?”

“How do you not know?” The man asked. “Everyone in the countryside is talking about it.”

“We've just docked."

“Ah…That makes sense.” The man jumped up to their platform, the metal armour didn’t impede his movement’s one iota. “Name’s Eirco. And this is Sara.”

Sara smiled and bowed her head. She wasn't about to attempt the jump and gently made her way up the stairs.

“We’re actually heading to Shining Star Mercenary guild.” Eirco looked into the crowd. “Well, we should be. They’ve got good food and drinks, for members, but we’ll say you’re with us and they’ll let you in. You’ll have to pay for your own food though.” Eirco sighed. “We’ve got enough problems with gluttons in our party.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Anton teased. Verona scoffed with indignity and hit his side.

“It really depends.” Anton glanced at the girls. “We’re actually looking for a Wyrm Heart.”

“What do you want with one of those?” Sara asked, stifling a laugh. “They’re very dangerous…Especially when using magic around them.”

So why does Mezot want it? I highly doubt it’s some sort of test…Just have to wait and see.

“We were told to get one. Money isn’t an issue. So is it possible to get one?”

“It’d be cheaper just to hunt one.” Eirco laughed. “If you can find them. They’re very sneaky and hard to track.”

“A dragon creature is hard to track?”

Eirco nodded. “You’d be surprised. But I think they should have one in storage; mercenary mages would pay a lot to have one. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

The three girls nodded at Anton, to them money was no issue, while Eirco and Sara continued to scan the crowd. Eventually, Sara waved to a group forcing their way through, Anton was immediately drawn to the fact that they were all women. Two were quite tall, sisters, wielding simple but well-worn bows. Another short woman, with a crossbow and a short sword. The fourth and final was…unexpected. She wore a veil over her head that only left her eyes exposed while the rest of her garb was loose dark clothing, built for silence rather than defence. Remarkably similar to the silent clothes of the Green Moon clan.

Is that supposed to be a ninja? Wait…That Japanese soldier from The Shadow Isles…Would that have been a thing back then?

“Where did you go?” Sara asked.

The shorter girl pointed to the sisters. “They kept getting distracted with food.” She sighed, held her temple and shook her head. “Every stall owner on the eastern side now has money thanks to them.”

The sisters appeared totally unrepentant.

Verona pulled Anton down. “Five…You can do better.”

Eirco clapped his metal gauntlets. “We’re finally all here. So do you want to come with us?”

---[]---

The Shining Star Mercenary Guild felt almost identical to those in Graterious, at least in layout. Perhaps there was some unifying standard throughout all the guilds, at least those in Graterious and Bebbezzar.

Eirco and Sara directed their companions to a large table, large enough to seat everyone. The short crossbow girl appeared rather volatile while the sisters were prone to long bouts of silence or argumentation. The ninja girl remained silent while keeping a firm eye towards them, specifically Cetina’s sword. However, Cetina was not the most dangerous amongst them…

Eirco caught the attention of a server, inquired about the Wyrm Heart and ordered a round of drinks for everyone.

“So how have you come so far and not heard of the Demons?” The Crossbow girl asked.

"They came by boat.” Eirco glanced to Anton for confirmation. “So they probably wouldn’t know.”

The Crossbow girl remained unconvinced, for some reason.

“So explain the story from the beginning.” Anton leant back. “I’ve never seen something like that.”

The Ninja girl was rather unsettling. Her eyes focused on Anton’s far too much to be normal. Was she looking for lies? He didn’t exactly lie, he had never seen the humanoid Demon before.

“Where to begin…” Eirco tapped the table. “Okay. We were waiting in Alcanares for another two groups of mercenaries, heading to the east to deal with some bandits stalking the roads and ruining trade.”

“They’ve killed hundreds.” Sara sighed. “And a few friends of ours too.”

“The ones near the border?” Anton asked. “Wanting to create some sort of worker’s paradise?”

“Yes…” Eirco frowned for a second before it faded away. “Anyway, we were waiting here, actually outside the city for some ranged practice, not that they need it, when the Beast-kin slaves went absolutely crazy.”

“Slaves?” Kal asked calmly. “Beast-kin slaves?"

“They’re not ours.” The Crossbow Girl folded her arms. “We couldn’t afford slaves even if we wanted to.”

Eirco patted her hand. Anton saw the emotions flashing over her face; she was very much in love, and it was reciprocated.

“So the Beast-kin started screaming, dropping their tools and ran away. Everyone was so shocked we didn’t do anything. Took quite a while before we could stop them.”

“None were killed,” Sara said. “At least then.”

Eirco shrugged. “I heard one say, over and over, ‘We have to get out of here. Something terrible is coming.’ If we’d known we’d have been right behind them. This red…a sphere of red lightning, I guess you would call it, emerged out of nowhere just to the south of Alcanares.”

“The area is sealed by hundreds of soldiers.” A sister added softly.

“The lightning flashed and those creatures appeared.” Eirco shook his head. “Never seen anything so terrifying. They didn’t say a word. That smaller one, the one with the six blades, turned around and said something. No idea what. Sounded like gibberish to me.”

He looked to Sara, she had no idea either.

“It looked…” Sara bit her lower lip. “Lost. I don’t know why but that’s how I felt. It wanted to go back through the lightning but it couldn’t.”

So not a planned invasion. Just some poor Demon getting sucked through? That's what it looked like in Fort Acidava. Though they are still invading this world near Nithroel’s territory.

“Then things got…weird.” Eirco drunk his entire mug of beer. “At first they didn’t say or do anything, no one did really. And then…Then a slave owner grabbed a Feline Beast-kin, so he could drag it to safety-”

Slaves are it’s, huh?

“And everything went to hell.” Eirco shook his head. “The six-bladed Demon shouted at the dog things and they attacked. We were so shocked that most just ran away. One person fired an arrow…Didn’t work and he got flattened. Food for the crows now. The Demon Dogs tore the Feline Beast-kin to shreds and then his owner.”

Kal forced herself to remain calm.

“It was chaos after that.” Sara began. “No one really knew what was happening. I was able to keep us safe with my magic-”

“I’ve been meaning to ask but what is yours?” Anton peered closely at the red metalled charm. “I've never seen one like that.”

Sara chuckled. “I don’t think you would. I specialise in gravity manipulation magic. It’s not very popular and isn’t taught anywhere in this continent. I had to travel to the Xiam Empire to learn it.”

Another faction we’ll have to deal with one day…

“Destruction all around.” Eirco rolled his hands. “Lots of death and destruction. Our magic wasn’t very effective against the Dogs and anyone that got hit by its blood burned to death.”

Cetina adjusted her eyepatch without saying a word. The Ninja noticed but said nothing.

“Fourteen people died when they got hit by the blood spraying out of a dead Dog's head,” Sara said softly. All of their party, minus the Ninja, shook their heads.

“But here's the strange bit." Eirco leant forward. "The six armed Demon thing wasn’t fighting. It picked up the remains of that Beast-kin, the Feline, and raised it to its little eyes. I don’t know what it saw but it looked like it was panicking. It scrambled, dropping its blades, for another dead Feline slave, there were a lot of dead by then, and looked at its head.”

Eirco looked to his party. “At least I think it was panicking.”

“You mean that’s what Sara thought.” The Crossbow Girl sniggered. “Don’t pretend you thought that on your own.”

Eirco laughed. “Yeah. It tried to say something to the Dogs but they were inside the city trying to set it on fire. Before it could do anything more it received a giant Earthen shot to the head. It fell down and that was the end of it. We then killed the remaining Demon Dogs, Sara wasn’t too happy that her magic wasn’t that effective against them.”

Sara sighed. “It was like they were filled with Ghlyirl.”

Cetina squirmed in her seat, instantly attracting the Ninja’s attention. Neither said a word.

“That’s…” Anton held his chin.

“Yeah.” Eirco laughed. “You would have enjoyed it, if you weren’t killed right at the beginning. Like so many people. Good people too.”

“So why do you call them Demons?”

“Apparently this has happened before.” Sara frowned lightly. “In Graterious. A place called…”

“Acidava.” The second sister said. “A Graterian fortress near the Deweth Clans.”

“We’ve heard of that one.” Anton gently nodded. “Didn’t think there’d be another.”

“That’s about all there is to say though.” Eirco shrugged. “The Demons were killed and that’s really that. After a few days, they’ll send the bodies somewhere and everything will return to normal.”

Not when they’re dropping in like rain. But why go so nuts over a Feline Beast-kin? They have long ears, just like an elf…So they might know what a Wood Elf is, since they're fighting them and if the portal there allows them to return to their world. They have long ears too, and the Demon thought the Feline was the same. Somehow. That means they’re capable of reason, even if they have difficulty differentiating between races. Just don’t let them see Beast-kin during the initial negotiations. Or a Dark Elf.

“I suppose people really don’t have much of a choice,” Anton said. “They can’t spend their whole lives in fear of those things. Better to keep moving rather than to sit and ponder.”

“Indeed.” Kal murmured.

Eirco glumly nodded. “I remember when our village was destroyed. It was just Sara and I that survived, because we hid from the Clansmen. But…You’re right. If we didn’t get up, just stayed in that hole, we wouldn’t be here. I think-”

A guild employee, an older man, approached and stopped Eirco.

“Were you inquiring about the Wyrm heart?” The older man raised a silver brow. “It sounds something a little dangerous for you, Eirco. Your party is better suited for dealing with bandits and monsters. Especially with Sara’s magic.”

Sara smirked at Eirco, who held his face flat.

“True. We wouldn’t have been able to defeat those eastern bandits if she hadn’t caught the arrows in the air with her magic.”

“How disheartening for them.” Anton mused. “To see all of their arrows just fall to the ground.”

The Crossbow girl nodded proudly, puffing out her modest chest. “And she can make our arrows and bolts go further. Not that I need such help.”

“Sure.” Eirco and Sara said simultaneously.

The Crossbow girl didn’t acknowledge them, but the twins chuckled. Again the Ninja girl said absolutely nothing, her eyes continuing to scan everyone present.

“Actually,” Anton raised his hand. “We were the ones inquiring about a Wyrm heart. Do you have one?”

The guild man looked them over, he couldn’t hide the look of incredulity.

“Do you have one?”

“We have a few. The creatures are rather rare and difficult to hunt at the best of times.”

Anton produced a small bag of gold coins. “I can assure you that we have the money. So, do you have one?”

---[]---

After but a few minutes they had the Wyrm heart in their possession. Anton was simultaneously pleased and slightly let down; pleased they had retrieved the item so easily but also annoyed they wouldn’t be going on an adventure through the Bebbezzarian countryside. It was Cetina’s homeland after all, she clearly enjoyed being back and would make an excellent guide, but he had no idea how to hunt a Wyrm or what they even looked like. Also acquiring a Principle Mage took a very high priority, though sleeping in the outdoors, without having to keep their nightly activities a secret was alluring.

Nevertheless, it was certainly the right decision. The guild happily took the gold, after confirming it was authentic, for the Wyrm Heart. Cetina held the small wooden box slightly away from her body. Though the heart was old it retained a wet and healthy colour, despite clearly being long removed from the body Anton was sure the thing continued to beat with an ethereal energy. His tail wasn’t tingling or reacting in any way so the Wyrm’s had nothing to do with the White Realm. At least for now.

“Are you disappointed?” Eirco asked.

He and the women of his party left with Anton, after accepting a piece of paper from the mercenary job board.

“Not really.” Anton gently patted the wooden box. “We’ve got what we’ve come for, so that’s enough for me.”

Cetina smiled as she pulled the box higher. “It’s a long way to Thessos anyway. And it’ll be snowing soon, especially near the mountains.”

Sara produced the small piece of paper taken from the guild, holding it aloft so they could see. “We are travelling in that direction.”

“Dealing with bandits.” Kal mused, leaning close to the paper. None of Eirco’s group had asked about Kal’s attire, possibly to avoid questions about the Ninja woman. “Preying on traders along the southern roads…It says there are about forty bandits. Quite well armed too. Are you going to be alright?”

Crossbow girl and Sara looked very proud.

“We can take of that many easy.” The Crossbow girl pointed to the sisters. “They’re very good shots with their bows.”

Her smiled dimmed slightly upon focusing on the Ninja, her hand dropping slightly. “And no one can tell that she’s moving in the darkness. If they’re really strong then we can just wait until night and let her slip in and deal with them.”

The Ninja nodded.

“Well, don’t overdo it,” Anton said. “Thanks for your help, we wouldn’t have found this without you.”

Eirco smiled. “Good luck with your journey too.”

He began to lead the group away, all giving a quick wave, the Ninja a deep bow.

“We’ll be working in the south of Bebbezzar during the winter,” Eirco shouted over the crowd, trusting Sara to ensure he didn’t stumble into anyone. “If you’re there we can chat a bit more. Love to hear what you’re up to in Bebbezzar. It’s a long way from Graterious.”

They gave one final wave before slipping into the crowds.

“They seem nice.” Verona smiled. “A little too friendly?”

“In the life of a mercenary, trust is incredibly important.” Anton shrugged. “So it makes sense to try and get on the good side of everyone you can. You never know when we could cross paths, possibly even as foes.”

“Or perhaps they’re just friendly.” Kal offered.

“Are…Are we leaving already?” Cetina asked. “There are a lot of things we could still buy here. Though…” Cetina nodded to the burnt buildings. “There might not be a lot on sale.”

“Since I plan to begin freeing them,” Anton bumped Kal’s side. “Very soon we’ll need a lot more equipment. Not to mention the additional humans. We’ll get as many tools and weapons as we can safely buy. I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to part with them, especially if we’re going pay a little more.”

Cetina smiled. They were, perhaps inadvertently, helping the people of Bebbezzar.

“So if you girls have anything you want now’s the time.” Anton patted the wooden crate. “We should probably get this back today. That’ll put a smile on her face, I’m sure.”

“Are you?” Verona raised a silver brow.

Anton wasn’t sure. But he knew that she would be happy to receive such a gift, even if she had trouble expressing it, a strange, bloody gift nonetheless.

Volume 05 - Chapter 04 - The Burning Light

Chapter 169:

A blast of papers whipped Anton’s face as returned to the Graterious Royal Academy. Thankfully Mezot’s room remained clean and ordered…Mostly. A few new piles had emerged but overall Mezot had maintained her cleanliness.

It’s only been a few hours though…

“I hope she doesn’t need another healing,” Anton mumbled, stepping off the shimmering white portal. “Not that that’s a problem.”

Verona and Cetina stepped through with the Wyrm Heart secured tight in the metal reinforced wooden box. Anton hated the way it felt like it was still beating, Cetina doubly so. She kept it as far away from her chest as she reasonably could. Kal had returned to Atros, along with a myriad of new pieces of furniture and weapons for the people.

A pattering of feet came towards them. Mezot’s face, normally devoid of expression, held a small smile. It warmed his heart to see she could express some emotion, no matter how slight.

“Those stones pulsed with mana.” Mezot’s faint smile faded, back to her normal face. “No one has come by after you left…”

“Was it just one pulse or four?” Anton asked, turning to the shimmering portal. “I can’t feel anything from it.”

“Four,” Mezot said with some finality.

An awkward silence filled the air, one that she didn’t appear to understand.

Anton coughed lightly. “We have the Wyrm heart.”

Mezot’s eyes lit up. She hesitatingly approached the box, stepping on the few loose pieces of paper. Cetina opened the box to show the gigantic heart within.

“This is real.” Mezot’s fingers twitched, reaching for the box. “A real Wyrm Heart…How much did you pay for this?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton smiled. “Called in a few favours but nothing too severe.”

Mezot forced her fingers to stop. She turned and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Anton. Everyone.”

Mezot’s shoulders trembled. “No one would ever help me like this…Especially…”

Anton smiled as she stood upright. He was tempted to pat her head, her blonde hair looked very extremely fluffy and soft but he didn’t want to upset or startle her, especially if she had an…issue.

“How’s your head?” Anton asked.

Mezot silently took the chest, Cetina was more than happy to be free of it, and left the room without a word. Anton sighed, he appreciated, just a little, Axia’s struggles. She placed the crate on her table, the spilt ink from before had dried but would forever stain the wood black, and pushed the loose papers away. Her large staff lay against the far wall, at least it wasn’t allowed to be buried in the piles of papers and scrolls.

“With this…” Mezot took out the heart, inspecting it close with her eye. “This is a fantastic specimen.” Mezot’s generous hips began to sway. “I should have my thesis done by tomorrow at the latest with this.”

“All with a heart?” Verona asked.

Mezot smiled, though her attention focused on the Wyrm Heart. Her fingers dug deep into the soft flesh, the white cloth slowly dyed red.

“Yes…” Mezot’s smiled instantly faded. She fastened the lid tight. “My head is better. I can think a little more clearly. Words and thoughts are no longer…as muddled.”

“I don’t know your schedule.” Anton began. “But have you spoken with anyone other than Axia?”

“I have.” Mezot smiled. “I just had a class and the students waited until the end! That’s never happened before!”

“That’s great. And under a day too.” Anton chuckled.

Mezot’s hand reached out for Anton, her eyes flicked to the girls and she retracted it. Comparatively, she lacked many of their curves. Her eyes glanced down, she tried to hide her envy but it was as clear as day. Mezot took a deep breath to calm herself.

“I need some time to finish, I almost have everything done.” Mezot began to pick at her fingers. “But it’ll take some time before I can complete my thesis. I…I can’t leave until it’s done so…”

“Actually, there is something that you can help us with.” Anton began. “I’ve been told that there’s a library in the Royal Academy. And I don’t think we can access it.”

“There is.” Mezot’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “If you’re looking to buy books on Principle Magic there are sellers outside the Academy. At least…There were when I last left.”

Mezot coughed. “But they won’t let you take, let alone read them, without someone from the Academy with…you…”

“Exactly.” Anton smiled as Mezot began to understand. “But I’m also interested in history. Specifically the United Empire and its activities.”

“Ah.” Verona smiled. “Now I get it.”

“Do you?” Cetina raised a black brow.

Verona huffed. “Now you’re sounding like Kal.”

“There are books there.” Mezot nervously scratched her shoulder. “They…They don’t like me going into the library, especially close to night time.”

“Because you would become lost in the words?”

Mezot nodded.

“And you might have missed some of your lessons before?”

Mezot’s ears quickly flushed red with embarrassment.

Anton smiled. “That won’t happen with us here. So, do you need to set something up first or can we go now?”

Mezot darted back to the desk. “Please wait outside for a few moments. I won’t be long. And then we can go.”

Mezot raised her head, Anton saw the faint smile on her lips. “I’m no longer so worried…”

Mezot trailed off as she roughly handled the Wyrm Heart and took it to another room. They followed her words and waited outside for Mezot to finish whatever she could possibly want with such a strange thing.

---[]---

Mezot led them through the Graterious Royal Academy. While at first Mezot appeared very apprehensive to leave her room now, with the afternoon sun raining down her face and the fresh air filling her lungs, she moved with a happier stride, for Mezot at least. Verona bumped his side and nodded at Mezot, a smirk on her lips. Anton knew exactly what she was thinking. Mezot was rather pretty and slim, clearly not even not in her thirties yet, but having her live in Atros might be a bit of an issue, even moreso that she wasn’t a child. Anton knew that he had to be a little patient with her peculiarities but others might not, they might think that she was being deliberately difficult and distant, especially when her daughter was anything but. He didn’t want to have her secluded in a room in Atros, even if it would be of her own volition.

Verona really has done a number on me.

Mezot slowed, her hands clutching each other nervously. Ahead a small group of students stood in the centre of the stone pathway, requiring the few passer-by’s to stumble through a small garden either side of the path. Though they wore student attire they appeared to be adults.

“All ages become students here?” Anton asked, stopping beside Mezot.

Mezot nodded, some of the nervousness left her. “Yes. But usually they’re children. It’s a lot easier to learn magic when you’re younger…They might be rural nobles. And they can only just afford to send them now.”

“That still puts them ahead of you on the social ladder, right?”

Mezot nodded.

“Even as a Lecturer?” Cetina raised a brow.

“This is why I don’t like going outside.” Mezot lowered her head but Anton motioned for them to maintain pace.

The small throng of students saw Mezot approach and turned to sneer and jeer. However, Anton shot them a look to back down. After dealing with The Shadow Isles and Qaiviel his tolerance for stupidity and arrogance was at an all-time low. Mezot attempted to walk around and into the garden but Anton reached out, held her shoulder and shook his head. Mezot stopped but looked confused.

“Gentlemen.” Anton began. “Ladies. Could you please move to the side and not take up the entire walkway?”

Anton refrained from adding snark, now was not the right time for antagonism, even though some would inadvertently slip through.

“Who are you?” One asked, the largest and seemingly the leader of the little throng. Several appeared to agree with him, but only when he gave them a look.

“Irrelevant,” Anton said calmly. “But right now you are taking up the entire path. No one has a problem with you being out here but you are blocking passage. And to a teacher, no less. So could you please move?”

He looked at Mezot, her presence shrunk underneath their stares. Her feet dragged on the stone ground as she backed away, using Anton as a partial shield. Eventually, the throng decided to move out of the way, at least partially. Anton smiled and led them past. He kept his eyes on them, Cetina manoeuvred herself closer. Though they probably could use some magic it was undoubtedly forbidden to attack someone unprovoked. And Cetina was clearly physically stronger than any of them.

Only when they were well clear did they breathe easy.

“Thank you,” Mezot said softly. “I thought that was going to end badly.”

Anton smiled. As he glanced back he saw one with a stone in his hand. Anton stopped and glared at the man, resting his hand on the hilt of his small dagger. Thanks to his cloak there wasn’t a way to see how big the blade really was. Realising he was about to start a fight, a fight with someone that would fight back, the man hid the stone and turned away.

“Little bastards should learn some respect,” Anton said, Mezot and Verona looked oddly at him. “Teaching the future generations is incredibly important, perhaps one of the most important things we can do. And that they wouldn’t move for a teacher…And one that can use powerful Ice and Water magic at that.”

Mezot hid her excitement of praise well, though it wasn’t intentional. Verona gave a curt nod while Cetina kept her eye towards the throng.

“I take it they wouldn’t do that to someone a Master.” Verona leant forward, a slight frown on her face.

Mezot glumly nodded.

After passing several more groups of students, these weren’t as rude as the first, they arrived at the Library, a tall rectangular building adorned with many crystal lights.

“Mezot?” Anton had to tap her on the shoulder to stop her. “Those lights. How are those powered?”

Mezot frowned lightly as she followed his hand. “Light Crystals? I…I’m not sure. They’re expensive, but the Academy has all the money it could possibly need. They can afford to pay me…But not enough.”

Mezot took a deep breath as she approached the large wooden doors. Four heavily armed Graterian guards, just like those at the entrance to the Academy, stood guard. She stopped when a guard lowered a halberd to bar their way.

“The library will be closing soon.” He spoke smoothly, without any emotion. “Students will have to leave very soon, so there’s very little point in entering today.”

Anton looked to Mezot. Again she shied away but he bumped her back, giving her the courage to speak.

“I am a teacher. A lecturer.” Mezot’s voice wavered, the guards remained unmoved or concerned. “So I am allowed to enter whenever I wish. And they…Are not students.”

A pair of eyes, hidden by their encompassing helm, darted between them.

“We have a writ from Lord Cassius that we are allowed into the Royal Academy.” Anton produced the paper. “I can assure you that we will follow all of the rules for the library. I don’t particularly want to meet the end of your weapons.”

The guard raised his weapon and inspected the writ. “You may enter. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

The man’s eyes fell on Mezot. “You’ll be held responsible for any losses. Understood?”

Mezot nodded. The guard lightly sighed and opened the door. Inside lay the most fantastical library Anton had seen, far larger than anything from Earth even. They did not enter on the ground floor, rather somewhere near the top as the library extended far underground, dozens of floors containing thousands upon thousands of bookcases, each bristling with neatly organised books and scrolls.

Flights of stairs, at both sides of the building, allowed the few people inside to traverse the multiple layers, large ladders occupied every level so people could reach the books at the top of the bookshelves. To Anton’s delight, they appeared to have wheels on the bottom, though they would almost be certainly thrown out if they were to play with them.

“We need to speak with the Librarians.” Mezot pointed to a small alcove to the side of the entrance. “They know the location of every book in the entire building. I’m sure they will know... Whatever it is you are looking for.”

Three old women, their faces covered and etched with deep wrinkles, sat hunched behind a small wooden desk. None gave much attention to the few people walking past, especially not them. Anton smiled as they approached though the feeling wasn’t returned.

“Yes?” One asked. “The library is closing soon, Mezot. You can’t stay here all night like you normally do.”

The faintest hint of a flush crept over Mezot’s ears. Easily being lost within words in a building containing thousands upon thousands of books was not the ideal combination. Had someone tried to track Mezot down only to find her surrounded by piles of discarded books?

“I understand,” Mezot said softly. “My mind is more clear today.”

Mezot smiled at Anton. The elderly woman raised a brow, the others consumed by their work, but said nothing.

“Do you have any books on Glyph Magic?” Anton asked.

The old woman glanced again at Mezot. “We do. But none of you have the authority to reach them. Only the Headmaster could allow someone access to those tomes.” The old woman chuckled. “I thought you would have known that, Mezot.”

“Would a writ from Lord Cassius change your mind?” Anton reached into his pocket.

"No." The old woman leant back into her chair. “I only answer to the Headmaster. And, though we look old, we know a lot of Principle Magic.”

“I see…”

Well, Cassius isn’t exactly well liked here, with that civil war and all that, but maybe there is something else we can do here.

“Do you have any books about the rise and fall of the United Empire? It is something that's garnered our curiosity. I'd-"

“Level seven." A bony set of fingers pointed deeper into the library. "Bookcase eight.”

Silence filled the air. A pair of students emerged from the stairs below, chatting merrily, saw them and felt the oppressive silence. They whispered a stifled giggle and hurried out.

“And anything about Beast-kin?” Anton received a raised wrinkled brow. “During our travels, I have seen several but there is remarkably little they can tell me. I cannot travel to Seocuria just to ask.”

“What do those creatures have that could possibly interest you?”

Anton shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Well…Same Level. Bookcase three.”

“Thank you.” Anton bowed his head. “We will be sure to respect this libraries’ rules.”

The faintest smile crept over the old woman’s mouth, though it faded in an instant. Anton hurried them away and down the stairs. Every level held a few dozen students and several teachers, all pouring over books and ancient tomes. Standing at the end of each level were two heavily armoured soldiers, just in case someone decided to take a tome unauthorised. They received a few odd looks but were mostly ignored. The seventh level contained a single Graterian guard and one student, who was using it as a place to sleep rather than anything important. Even the guard looked old and tired; clearly no one came to this level. As the girls, and Mezot, began looking for the bookcases, Anton looked further below. The next three levels were almost abandoned as well. Beyond that a series of large chains, covered in dusty tassels of paper, barred anyone from descending further. There was no way they would be allowed to enter, doubly so without being caught. Anton’s skills with Glyph magic were still severely lacking.

“So what are we looking for?” Verona asked. “No magic, I get that.”

“And we can’t take any of the books with us,” Cetina mumbled. “So we can’t get any of the rare Principle Magic books.”

“I want to know how the United Empire fell.” Anton stopped in front of the bookcase. “Just in case there are any parallels to what we’re doing. Not that I expect it to happen during my lifetime but something we should still be aware of.”

Mezot had already drifted away to a book left open on a table. Anton's light cough brought her back.

“Any of these looks like a history book? One that gives us a brief summary.”

Mezot’s eyes scanned the lines of books. Out of the four present only two could read, but Verona and Cetina were trying their hardest to catch up.

“There.” Mezot pointed to a book near the top. “That should be what you’re looking for.”

Anton clambered up the slightly rickety ladder, the temptation to ride it was drowned out by every groan, and retrieved the large, dusty book.

“When was the last time this was used?” Anton slowly descended the ladder. “I suppose this is ancient history now. Four hundred odd years at least before the last fragments finally gave up the pretence…And if a generation is about twenty years that’s still twenty odd generations. No wonder they’d forgotten.”

Anton placed the book onto the table, flicking through the pages. “How long did it take for Britain to revert back to misaligned mud huts from straight stone buildings after the Romans left?”

Verona raised a brow as Anton scanned through the pages. Mezot moved very close, her eyes furiously scanning the pages as Anton flicked through. Verona chuckled as Mezot pushed Anton away, unconcerned with touching or offending him, so engrossed in the words.

“Is she okay?” Cetina asked, a faint chuckle escaped her lips.

Anton waved his hands around Mezot’s head, even once in front of her eyes. Only then did she start to react.

“Sorry…” Mezot held her head low. “You…You can see why…”

“Does it say anything?” Anton asked, not wanting to dwell, mainly for Mezot’s sake. Verona and Cetina took a nearby chair.

Mezot’s eyes slowly grew back into focus. “You wanted to know about the fall of the United Empire?”

Mezot tapped the page, the title did indeed say ‘Decline of the United Empire’. She scanned the pages silently.

“The book says that they tried to expand to the Laena Thalor, ruled by the Vunyth Dynasty.”

Again Mezot fell silent as she stared into the paper.

“And they are…”

Mezot blinked hard once. “I…Sorry. They are the largest Wood Elf Kingdom in the world.”

“So it was because of those haughty twats.” Verona scoffed. “Wait…What’s the one beneath…I mean, beneath the old Kar Kingdom?”

“I believe that’s a satellite kingdom.” Mezot glanced at the book as she wandered away. “The Oranthas Dynasty…”

Anton sighed and shook his head. “Where’s she going now?”

Mezot disappeared behind a bookcase and began to rifle through something.

“This might be a little difficult.” Verona sighed, slumping her head onto the table. “Might get exhausting after a while.”

“Maybe when she’s working it’s not so bad.” Anton smiled, patting her head.

“You’re not worried about Mezot being…” Cetina trailed off.

“No.” Anton chuckled. “Regardless, I don’t think we have much of a choice, not if we want to get a Principle Mage anytime soon.” Mezot returned with a large roll of paper. “So long as we can get her to focus. The first students might have a rough time of things.”

Mezot placed the scroll on the table, a map of the world albeit old and dusty. Verona leant over while Cetina peered over their backs.

Mezot’s finger trailed over the continents to the Graterious Empire, except it wasn’t labelled as such. Their continent was simply labelled as being part of the United Empire. All of it, even the current Wood Elf kingdom to the south.

“Here.” Mezot tapped the centre of the Oranthas Kingdom. “There isn’t a Heart of the Wild there anymore.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.” Anton frowned lightly. He leant close, Mezot shuffled away but bumped into Verona who flashed a smile. “You seem to know a lot about the Wood Elves.”

Mezot looked up, her eyes twitching between the bookcases. “I like it here. It’s peaceful. But I can get lost in the books and their stories.”

“I imagine you might know more about them than those librarians.” Anton smiled.

Mezot didn’t quite know how to take it but took it as a compliment. “They’re very interesting…To be so long-lived.”

“It might get a little boring.” Verona flashed Anton a beaming smile. “Not that I would with you…But maybe a few hundred thousand winters might drag on a little.”

Anton gently nodded. “So these Heart of the Wild?”

“A giant tree situated at the centre of the forest.” Mezot hurried away and returned with a current updated map of the world. She pointed to the heart of the Oranthas Kingdom. “Somewhere in the middle, here, is a tree so tall that it brushes against the clouds. Most of their cities exist around it, they have smaller outposts and forts throughout the forest but most live near the great trees.”

“So to defeat them we’d just need to take down the tree.” Verona coughed lightly. “Not that we’d be fighting them, of course.”

“That would be…difficult.” Mezot frowned. “I’ve seen their mages, they come to Graterious every twenty winters, and they are extremely strong and fast. You couldn’t beat them. I know I couldn't beat them.”

Verona sniggered. “You don’t know what I can do.”

“Back on track,” Anton said softly. “The United Empire took on the Wood Elven Kingdom and lost?”

Mezot tapped the book. “In one battle they lost four hundred thousand soldiers.”

“No wonder they had problems.” Anton shook his head. “To try and rebuild after those sorts of losses...Not just in manpower but experience and equipment."

“The Wood Elves lost many of their warriors too. But they also had many creatures of the forest to support them; Kobolds, Trolls, Ent’s and Fairies.”

Guess Fliodher spoke the truth.

“But those can be replaced far easier than the Wood Elves,” Anton mumbled. “I can already imagine the tactics they used. So the United Empire crumbled because it couldn’t field its armies and to rebuild it simply cost too much for the empire to bare…I imagine the Dark Elves were glad to throw them off. The loss of the Blood Hammer Dwarves certainly didn't help the quality of their soldiers. I imagine there were many attenpts to rebuild the empire but each time it became smaller and smaller unitl it slowly collapsed into nothing.”

“That’s…That’s what it says in the book.” Mezot almost smiled. “More or less. No mention of Dwarves but..."

Mezot flicked between two pages near the front and back, both illustrating a standard United Empire soldier. At first, they were heavily equipped, metal and gambeson armour with large shields and spears and swords. Clearly the inspiration for the Graterious Heavy Infantry. According to the inscription every soldier carried a crossbow and was a decent shot. At the back, however, lay a more tragic example. Gone was the full suit of metal, now just a flew patched on the most vital locations. The weapons suffered immensely too, now only metal tipped spears with a large and somewhat crude wooden shield reinforced with an iron band. Gone too were the crossbows, even the gambeson looked to be of a much lower quality.

"Wow." Anton murmured. "They really fell a long way."

"They couldn't produce and maintain the armour." Mezot began. "It was a sudden shift but had clearly been happening for a while. At least that's what it says here. I wasn't there so..."

"The loss of the Blood Hammers really did hurt them," Cetina said, flicking the page to the first soldier. "After hearing stories of those soldiers, imagine being equipped like he was. You'd be pretty depressed. At best some kind of fodder."

“Anything about the Beast-kin?” Verona asked. She leant close, her brows furrowing in concern. “From what I’ve heard they weren’t present for the conquest of The Shadow Isles but were afterwards. Any clues to that in these books?”

“It mentions several Generals and Admirals as Beastkin." Mezot flocked through the book again. "But not what type or why they reached those positions."

"That's good," Verona said. "I suppose. They treated them like humans. No need to get all weird and cuddly with them just to show they weren't bad people. Just straight up they were a General."

Mezot continued to flick through the book, far slower this time.

If Mezot hates Beastkin we're in a serious uphill battle.

"Have you ever seen a Beastkin before?" Anton gently stopped her skimming. "Outside of the books?”

Verona groaned lightly.

"I have. Some were brought as part of a demonstration."

"What kind?"

Mezot refused to answer, her face spoke of her disgust.

Anton glumly nodded. "So what did you think of them?"

Mezot shrugged. "Strange."

That'll have to do.

"Nothing else really in this book but there should be…”

Mezot, once again, abandoned the books and maps and moved to the other designated bookcase. Her eyes scanned the books until she pointed at one, evidently she wasn’t going to attempt the climb herself, not that this ladder looked particularly dangerous and rickety.

“Um…Is this right?” Anton held the dusty book in his hands. “This says The Anatomy of The Beast-kin.”

“Yes.” Mezot’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

“I’m not really concerned about how their internals work.” Anton bounced the book in his free hand. The surrounding books covered topics such as their uses as well as some theological texts, regarding their status as sins, thrown in for good measure. Those books were far newer though no less dusty. "But I’m sure we’re about to find out something very interesting."

The book was even older and disused than the previous; the prejudice of the Beast-kin ran deep and for a very long time. Only the Seocurians would have interest in such things now. Instead of enslavement the Beastkin outside of Seocuria were utterly slaughtered.

Still no reason why that happened. Unless the United Empire blamed them for their military failures, and that flowed through to the people. Shouldn't have resulted in something so apocalyptic.

Mezot flicked through the pages. Quickly drawings emerged, ones that made Anton’s stomach turn slightly. Anton stopped Mezot’s idle flicking. An Arachnid illustration, like Ulyaa, covered both pages, an immaculately detailed drawing showing every unique feature; their eight legs, the small claws at the end to manipulate their thread, their spinneret and where their human upper half joined their spider body. The Arachnid shown was a male, their genitals had been detailed as well, capable of completely withdrawing into their body, presumably for protection. Mezot was un-phased by an extremely detailed drawing of a penis.

The next page stopped Anton dead. The Arachnid had been completely dissected, again with intricate details. The following four pages showed every part of the Arachnid; how their spider body functioned and how the organs and tissue changed when moving from one part to another.

“Poor thing,” Verona mumbled. “Oh no. And they even cut that apart. Who does that sort of thing?”

“Do you think he was still alive?” Cetina asked worryingly.

“Let’s hope not.”

Mezot shook her head, flicking back to the first page. She pointed at a small note at the bottom.

“It says that the specimen had committed suicide prior to dissection.”

“Well…” Verona rolled her hand. “That’s better. I suppose.”

“What about the others?”

As they flipped through more and more Beast-kin Anton grew increasingly concerned, something at the back of his head was throwing up alarm bells. Every Beast-kin had committed suicide before dissection.

“All at once?” Anton asked aloud. The last Beast-kin, a Lamia, extinct now in Seocuria, had a note that she had committed suicide too.

“Do you think the United Empire covered something up?” Verona asked. “But…But why say they all committed suicide?”

“Just say nothing,” Cetina mumbled. “No one would question it.”

“This book was written by someone in the United Empire.” Mezot lifted the book and pointed to a small symbol on the spine. A simple sword resting over a shield. Simple, but powerful.

“That’s still very…” Anton rubbed his chin. “The United Empire made special effort to ensure that anyone who read this knew they had committed suicide and not just died...Ugh. We're definitely missing something. Do we have a date when this was made?”

Mezot checked the back and front. She made a noise, something Anton didn’t expect, when she read the front. “Every Beast-kin autopsy was taken from suicide victims of the Burning Light.”

Mezot turned to Anton, her eyes vacant yet also questioning.

“Alright. Let’s find out what that is.”

As they had no idea where to even begin to look they returned to the three librarian women. Most of the students and teachers were already leaving. The three watched those leaving with some elation, elation that evaporated upon witnessing them approaching.

“Yes?”

“We’re looking for something, for an event called the Burning Light.” Anton took a shallow breath. “Do you have any idea what that is?”

“It was a disaster.” The elderly woman at the back spoke softly. “During the early days of the United Empire. Their second largest city, a place we now call Eldfjall Trelleborg, was destroyed, destroyed in a single night.”

“So…Did it create anything?”

The old woman frowned. “I don’t know. There is more information about the United Empire, but that information is restricted. For a reason.” She pointed a bony finger at Anton. “And that writ of yours won’t get you into those.”

“I see.” Anton glanced to the girls. “I think that’s all we’re going to get done today. We’re kind of limited in what we can get here anyway.”

“You wanted books on magic?” The first asked. Anton wasn’t about to correct her. “You cannot take anything from the Library. But you can buy them from outside the Academy.”

She pointed to a young student emerging from the stairwell. Her fingers were stained lightly with ink, ink that refused to shift despite her vigorous rubbing.

“Students can make a decent amount of coin by copying books and diagrams. You should go to those to buy books on Principle Magic, rather than just look at them here.”

“Do you know how extensive those collections are?”

“They have copies of just about every book available to the students and lecturers. Though there are some here that are too dangerous for just anyone to have.”

“Any abilities to summon volcanoes?” Anton asked jokingly.

“Exactly why they are forbidden.” The woman frowned. “Some foolish student would try.”

“I…I see.” Anton smiled. “Thank you for your time.”

The woman imperceptibly nodded as Anton ushered them outside. Though he was all but certain their little foray was rather brief, dusk had almost fallen over the Academy. Outside the white walls small trails of smoke rose into the sky, stoves and heaters preparing for the night. Graterious had yet to have any snow but it was only a matter of time.

"Will Axia be finished with her lessons?" Anton asked. "What sort of lessons would a student have here anyway?"

Mezot looked to the dimming sun. "She should be finished soon. Normally I'm...It will be nice to see her finish rather than her arrive home."

"I'm sure Axia will appreciate it." Verona smiled.

"Was it alright to leave so easily?" Mezot asked, her hands held close to her chest in concern. "You've come all this way only to stop so soon."

Anton shrugged lightly. "We have access to the library essentially whenever we want, and the librarians don't hate us so that'll work in our favour. Besides, you need to work on your thesis before you can help us."

"And how does a Wyrm Heart help?" Cetina asked.

"It's difficult to explain if you don't already understand Principle Magic," Mezot said flatly.

"Okay..."

"But it'll be a few days before I deliver my thesis, even if it works." Mezot frowned lightly. "Until then I won't be able to help with anything."

"You?" Verona raised a brow. "Telling a whole room of people what you've managed to create? And you'll be doing that on your own?"

"That's right." Mezot’s expression remained flat.

Anton truly wondered if Mezot would handle the pressure of scrutinized public speaking, one which would determine her future at the Academy. He doubted he would do well in a similar position but he was certain that Mezot would fumble, if not becoming terrified by being at the centre of attention she wouldn’t be able to convey her thesis well. However her enthusiasm for magic might just carry her through. Maybe. Verona and Cetina shared some of his concerns. Nevertheless, they had to see this through. They had no choice if they wanted a Principle Mage for Atros.

Volume 05 - Chapter 05 - Mezot's new spell

Chapter 170:

"Is this normal?" Anton softly asked Mezot.

Mezot, sitting beside Anton at the rear of the open auditorium, nodded once. "Yes. This...This is how you learn."

She looked directly into his eyes, her stare unwavering. "Was it different when you learnt your magic?"

"Verona and I sort of stumbled through it blind." Anton folded his arms. "If we went too far it hurt us. We could have killed ourselves or burnt-out our magic if we were too hasty. And, before Kal gained hers, there was no one else to heal us."

"Who's Kal?" Mezot asked flatly. She looked at Cetina, sitting beside her, then to Verona sitting on Anton's other side.

"Another one of us weird ones." Verona laughed. "I know you'll get along."

Cetina raised a brow but Mezot accepted her explanation.

"Again!" An instructor barked at the young Academy students. They were too young to have the mental fortitude to resist and followed the order.

The students focused on their staves, specifically at the metal Charms on top, and began to chant a spell. Anton noticed that some spoke much faster than others, others much louder and others little more than a whisper. Axia, near the back of the gathering, fell into the latter. Anton almost winced at the relative condition and expense of the students’ clothes and equipment. Those at the front were the most extravagant, bright colours and finely woven garments, dwindling to those at the rear with some even worse dressed than Axia.

"It's good to know that money can't buy talent," Anton said softly. "Most of those rich kids can't do it half as well as your daughter."

Mezot's chest swelled with pride, at least by Mezot's standard. Axia was indeed doing better than most of her fellow students. She finished her chant after half of the other students had but she was the first to have the magic completed perfectly. A small sphere of flame hovered above her staff, somehow less wild than Anton's but he didn't doubt its destructive potential.

"Excellent." The instructor, a hard-faced elderly man, nodded once at Axia’s magic. "The rest of you could learn something from her."

"Don't do that," Anton grumbled, Verona and Cetina leant forward, Mezot remained stationary. "It's going to make things even worse for her."

Mezot's head snapped to him, her golden brows furrowed. "What?"

Before Anton could explain a student near the front screamed. The fireball he held was not like any of the others, this was fluttering in and out of existence, a loud popping sound, a small explosion, punctuated each emergence.

"Knock it off!" The instructor yelled, at first attempting to push his way through the students but quickly realising that there were still many fireballs floating in the air, and skirted around them. "Right now! Or stop it. I don't care which!"

"I-I can't!" Fear ran down the boy's face in great rivers. "I'm trying but..."

Mezot's hand gripped tight around her staff. "It's consuming his magic."

"The fireball?" Anton asked, Mezot nodded. "Why not just stop feeding it mana?"

The other students cancelled their magic and backed away. Anton was glad to see Axia take great efforts to manoeuvre the haughty students as shields.

The flickering fireball flickered back into reality one last time and became perfectly stable, the flames rising and falling in a very slow but recognizable pattern. The Lecturer drew his own charm from his pocket, pulled the stunned student hard enough to send him tumbling into the other haughty students, and began to speak furiously while clasping his charm so tight his knuckles turned white.

Mezot held her staff in front, already murmuring something underneath her breath. Anton didn't want to interrupt, lest he worsen the situation.

Something moved in the slowly moving flame. Not eyes, but a presence, something that moved through the flames like a fish through water. Anton's skin crawled at the sight.

The creature turned to the Lecturer and pushed against the sphere. The surface bulged outwards, the flame itself began to tear apart. Screams erupted from the students, no longer paralysed by the unusual occurrence, and began to flee. All bar the boy whose magic had run amuck. His eyes remained transfixed on the sphere, where the entity was tearing through. Before the entity could emerge the Lecturer managed a slight smirk.

"Go back to the rancid realm from which you came, abomination!"

The sphere began to contract to something no larger than a grape. Inside the flaming entity thrashed and bucked wildly, pushing against the flame as the sphere contracted. When the entity had doubled over itself and there was simply no more room to give, the entity's body snapped, leaking a viscous black liquid that stained and corrupted the red flame.

The Lecturer grunted, murmuring something underneath his breath, and the small black grape instantly collapsed to a single point. The next moment it exploded, showering everyone nearby in a thick dark purple smoke. A magical shield, covered in thousands of intricate symbols and mathematical expressions, emerged in front of both the Lecturer and Mezot, both large enough to shield many people. Mezot's magical shield was much larger, more intense with far more clarity.

"Is everyone alright?" The Lecturer breathed deeply, lowering his magical shield, followed by Mezot, and inspected the students.

He found nothing until his eyes fell upon the boy who caused the entire drama. The boys’ hands had turned black, yet they were not dead, but he probably wished they were: one hand was now gnarled, fingers had broken and healed in strange positions, now a permanent claw, in the other the fingers had fused with whatever piece of skin they made contact with, pieces of bone burst through his skin to at random angles to fuse together again. His veins, at least on the clawed hand, now ran with some sort of liquid fire, Anton immediately thought of the Demons, but clearly this was not his new blood. Blackened skin shrivelled and peeled away, his skin erupted in puffs of flame and the sickly thick smoke of burning flesh. The fused hand remained lifeless.

It took some time for the boy to understand, to comprehend, what had befallen his body. Slowly it worked its way through his mind, his eyes widening and pupils constricting with his understanding. Then he screamed.

"Don't move!" The Lecturer ushered the students away. A firm and loud voice snapped them from their stupor, and they began to flee. Mezot jolted up to follow Axia but her daughter already knew of her presence. She hurled over the benches, with skill that Anton did not expect from a Mage, and dove into her. Anton almost smiled when he saw Mezot's arms outstretched, doubly so when she pulled her close.

"Don't move!" The Lecturer yelled at me again. The screaming boy was not listening.

As he thrashed about he brought his hands close to his chest, close enough that both hands could touch one another. His screams became ear-piercing shrills as he threw them away and against the hard wooden floor. His gnarled hand echoed like stone hitting wood, the other crumpled and shattered with the tell-tale sound of snapping bone. Only then did his sleeves roll, the transformation travelled much further than just his wrist.

A side door burst open, a stream of teachers and other lecturers emerged. Two were given extra leeway and space, two dressed in pure white. Behind them the Head Master followed, the silently watching the proceedings with a calm face that almost completely hid the fear coursing underneath his skin.

The two White Mages, Anton assumed they were Life Mages, Principle Mages that specialised in healing, knelt beside the still screaming boy. With a silent look the others held his arms down, quite forcefully, and elicited another bout of painful screams. Their large charms, multi-coloured gemstones embedded in a disk of a light silver began to glow. The boys’ screams diminished to whimpers then to nothing. His breathing calmed, the muscles in his face relaxed but his arms remained twisted and deformed.

The Lecturer said something softly to one of the Life Mages and turned to address the people that remained.

"All classes and practical exercises are cancelled for the day." He cleared his throat. "The rest of today is free. No one is to practice magic unless there is a teacher present. Understood?"

The students that remained readily agreed. The White Mages ordered the boy placed on a stretcher and gently lifted, careful to not bump either of his arms.

"Is he going to be okay?" A young girl student asked. She held her hands tight in front of her chest, her head bobbed from side to side as she attempted to get a better look.

The male White Mage smiled faintly. "We will do everything that we can for him."

That's a gentle way of saying no.

Regardless, the girl took his words at face value. She still remained incredibly nervous even after he had been carried away.

"Mezot." Anton waited until her attention shifted from her daughter, still in her arms. "How did they know that was going to happen?"

Axia gently tapped her mother's back and parted.

"I could sense something was very wrong." Mezot's gaze fell upon the centre of the blackened wood floor, where the sphere once hovered above. "The magic the boy had written was wrong. It's lucky he didn't simply bring it through."

"And it is?" Verona asked.

"A creature from another place." Mezot's breathing began to increase, not from fear but excitement, excitement from discussing magic. As her lips began to curl into a smile and her back straighten to allow more air into her lungs, she flexed her hands and calmed herself.

"Not the time to become..." Mezot looked to her daughter. Axia smiled and nodded gently.

Mezot coughed to steady herself. "I have seen drawings of that creature before."

"He called it an abomination," Verona mumbled softly. Mezot looked down at her, Verona raised her hands. "Sorry. Just a thought I had."

"Abominations are the result of a failed creature summoning." Anton frowned ever so slightly. "Right?"

Mezot nodded. "They are also completely uncontrollable. Like the creature in the flames."

"You've seen it happen before?" Cetina asked.

Mezot glumly nodded. "Several times. Especially when I was younger. A group of students-"

Movement behind Mezot caught Anton and Cetina's eye. With the clinking of metal, and Anton's attention no longer focused on her, Mezot turned to see the Head Master standing just behind her. Mezot moved to the side, Anton caught Axia pulling a face which only he appeared to see. Axia threw Anton a look, not to tell anyone.

"It would be a good idea for you to leave." The Principal spoke softly. The brisk tone of his voice had now vanished. "While we sort out this mess."

"Shouldn't the magic have exploded?" Anton asked, the Head Master threw him an odd look. "If the magic has been formed incorrectly, surely it shouldn't have caused that?"

"Magic is extremely dangerous." Now he sounded more like a condescending teacher speaking to an ignorant child. "And accidents, like what you just saw, are not that uncommon."

"Looks like the poor kid had his very soul mangled before him," Anton said softly.

The Head Masters’ eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed. However, I do ask again that you leave. For now at least." He quickly added after Verona inhaled to start an objection. "We need to clean the area and ensure that everything returns to normal."

"Of course." Anton bowed his head. "We don't want to interfere with any Academy work."

The Head Master shot Mezot a look. As a member of the Royal Academy, she was of infinitely higher rank than Anton, yet she was content to let him speak. He gave a near imperceptible shrug and returned to the others Mages.

"I wonder if your magic could help him?" Verona mused. "Probably not, if it's done that to him." She patted his lower back, low enough to feel the edge of his tail.

"Probably end up as some dissection." Anton sighed. "A curiosity at best. I'm sure the Academy's going to have fun explaining why a rich nobleman's son has turned into a monster."

"They'll probably remove their funding," Mezot said softly. "Maybe. If they have other children that can come here...then maybe not."

Anton clapped his hands. "On a happier note, I, we, were all impressed to see you use magic, Axia. Seems like you've got a real talent for it."

Axia laughed, the seriousness of what transpired but a minute ago had all but washed away. “Thanks, Anton. I don’t really know if I’m all that good.” Axia nervously scratched her head. “It’s always been easy for me. Maybe that’s why they don’t get along with me.”

Axia shrugged again.

“Time for us to leave I think.” Anton began gently ushering everyone towards the door. “They’re all giving us evil glares.”

Axia giggled as they left, avoiding all eye contact as the mages began their work.

---[]---

Outside darkness had well and truly began to set. Small crystal lights covered the ground in a faint white light, Anton presumed they were activated by the time of day, an intriguing facet of magic he really hadn’t had the need to explore. A rumbling stomach stopped his thoughts. However, it didn’t come from Verona.

“It’s almost dinner…” Axia trailed off into nothing, looking away as if that was enough to hide that the noise came from her.

“I’m starving as well.” Verona rubbed her stomach. “What, what do you eat?”

Mezot averted her eyes, a rare show of emotion.

“Does the Academy provide food?” Anton asked. “Even as a student, they should provide something, even if you have to pay for it.”

Axia laughed nervously. “Let’s not think too much on-”

“-Not well,” Mezot said softly. She glanced down at her body, sighing loudly. “Maybe that’s…”

“Maybe we should all get something?” Verona offered. “Something outside of the Academy. I know I smelt good food as we came in. And it’s only going to get stronger as the night drags on.”

Anton held Verona tight. “It’s almost like you only have one thought on your mind.” Verona stuck out her tongue. “So, what do you think?”

Axia readily agreed to the idea, her mother less so. A tremor of panic ran through her body.

“It’s…” Mezot gripped her hands tight. “It’s been so long since I’ve actually left the walls. I…” Mezot almost smiled. “I don’t even know what the city looks like outside.”

Anton smiled. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to send you out there on your own. Crowded city streets aren’t the best place for solitary women. Especially in a place this densely populated.”

Mezot and Axia returned blank faces but Anton began walking towards the main entrance, the two quickly caught up after sharing a quick glance. They joined a faint trail of students, and some teachers and lecturers, leaving the Academy grounds. Judging by their faces Anton suspected they were planning to do more than simply have a good meal.

“So long as they know what they’re getting into.” Anton murmured. Only Cetina heard him, he didn’t explain but he was fairly certain she understood.

The guards gave a double-take when Mezot passed, one almost looked ready to ask if she was alright but decided against it. Or simply couldn’t be bothered, Anton didn’t know which. Mezot looked at the stone ground as they passed the outer wall. For a moment she hesitated to take the last step. One glance at Axia, standing and waiting well past, was enough encouragement. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, outside of the Royal Academy and into the city. For most people it would be nothing but for Mezot it was a huge accomplishment.

Without their horses to push and force a way through the swarms of people Anton found it a little difficult to keep track of everyone. Not that he was actually worried about someone being dragged away but the sheer volume of humanity streaming past was quite impressive. Verona remained at his back while Cetina moved behind Mezot and Axia, just to make sure neither became lost or overwhelmed, especially Mezot.

"Where should we go?" Anton yelled back, his voice barely pushing through the sounds of civilization. "Do either of you know somewhere good? Axia?"

"I've heard of a tavern that's supposed to be pretty good." Axia thrust her hand up into the air. "The students talk about it all the time."

"What age are we talking?"

"My age?" Axia frowned.

"That's fine then. I think. So which way is it?"

Several minutes later they arrived at a large open floored building, easily five stories high. The traffic here was still high but nowhere near as intense as the main thoroughfares. The building's layout reminded Anton of a pub: a large wooden fence to separate passers-by’s from the patrons, many tables with high chairs and free flowing drink and food. Servers darted between the tables, and some of the more rowdy guests, holding plates of steaming food and large jugs overflowing with lightly frothing beer.

“Perfect.” Verona clapped her hands. “This looks absolutely perfect.”

Someone bumped into Mezot, still standing slightly away from the rest of them. She glanced at the man as he merged with the crowds passing by.

“Did he just steal something?” Anton asked.

Mezot lightly patted her body. “No…No. I…” Mezot’s face fell ever so slightly. “I don’t have much money. I thought you would be paying.”

Mezot glanced back to the Academy, the large white towers loomed over the tall wooden buildings.

“I’ll need to go back-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton held her shoulder. “I just thought you might have been pick-pocketed.”

“Oh…I understand.” Mezot’s faint smile was quite reassuring, in a strange way.

Verona smiled awkwardly at Anton, so too did Axia, as they entered the building. The noise was great, a loud continuous drone of human voices where no one single voice could be isolated from the rest. A woman greeted them and, after a quick rapport, guided them to a small booth. Anton liked the design; the backs of the seats formed a divider between the next booth, giving it an open yet personal feeling. Axia didn’t hesitate at taking her seat, running at the wooden bench and skidding her rear along to the far side. She laughed and patted the seat next to her. Mezot hesitated but took her place next to her daughter. Anton and Verona sat opposite, Cetina sat last on the bench with her back turned slightly towards them to keep her focus outside.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had good food.” Axia rubbed her stomach. “I don’t remember the last time I had food outside the Academy.”

“It…” Mezot frowned lightly and looked away, a brief look of regret and disappointment.

“I think that,” Anton shuffled forward, adjusting himself so his bound tail wasn’t squished against the seat, especially where it grew from his rear. “In anticipation of your completed thesis-”

“However that Wyrm Heart is going to help,” Verona said idly. Mezot remained still while continuing to listen intently.

“-I think we should get the best this place has to offer.” Anton found himself looking around for a menu, quickly remembering that most people in this world couldn’t read.

But the capital of a country like Graterious should have a higher rate of literacy. Probably not so high outside of the wealthier areas.

Anton glanced beyond Cetina, Cetina returned a quickly raised brow, to the rest of the patrons in the establishment. It was a mix of, what Anton would dare to call, middle-class citizens. He couldn’t see anyone covered in soot or grime, nor anyone wearing decadent clothing like he’d seen in Porswea.

“This place looks like it’ll have a fantastic selection.” Verona eagerly licked her lips. “So what does everyone want?”

---[]---

With their stomachs filled they began making their way back to the Academy. While exploring Boreana was something Anton wanted to do, and discover places, where they might be able to purchase weapons and materials in large quantities, was important, he didn’t want to roam the capital’s unknown streets with four women. It would be bad enough just on his own.

Anton felt as if they were being watched a little too closely by some in the crowd. He looked back with an eye's peripheral vision but couldn't find anything amiss.

"Do you think someone's following us?" Cetina asked softly.

"I was thinking the same thing." Verona murmured. She ran a hand through her hair, throwing it over her shoulder, giving her an excuse to look behind.

"Might be a group of thugs." Verona sniggered, her expression quickly fell. "Unless they have something against my hair."

"What are you talking about?" Axia held a piece of the delicious beef wrapped in bread, nibbling as she walked.

She's almost as bad as Verona for putting food away. Maybe worse, Verona is a little 'bigger' than her.

"Those students that hurt you." Anton noticed Mezot visibly tense at his words. "Did they ever follow you, try and force you into a place where they wouldn't be seen?"

Axia glumly nodded. "After a while, they stopped caring. So...that's what's happening to us?"

Axia turned around, continuing to walk backwards while eating. Anton tapped her shoulder and spun her back around.

"We don't want to be too obvious about it." Anton smiled. "If they think we know they might just give up."

"And we..." Cetina frowned. "Isn't that what we want?"

"Yes. But I also want to know why they're targeting us."

Anton nodded to the small groups of people walking alongside. Some were clearly workers, people that were unafraid to get their hands, and themselves dirty, but many more were families enjoying a night out or gatherings of men and women, looking for a good time or a perhaps someone to go home with.

"We don't look that wealthy compared to them. Cetina's armour is probably the most flashy thing we have."

"Should have worn my old set," Cetina mumbled.

“That might be a problem.” Anton held her shoulder. “In case we get into a fight.”

“My sword is ready, Anton.”

“Combat is forbidden in the capital,” Mezot said sternly.

Anton smiled. “Something like that’s not going to stop criminals. Especially if they want something…” Anton held his chin. “Or if they’ve been paid to do it.”

“You have an idea.” Verona tapped the top of her chest, clearly irritating both Mezot and Axia. “I’m ready to fight, if you want me too.”

“Magic will just attract too much attention. But we will if we have to.” Anton glanced back. “I’d rather not in the first place…I might have to leave this to you, Cetina.”

Cetina smirked, tightening the grip on her free hand. “After what we’ve been through recently a few thugs would be a nice change of pace.”

---[]---

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not.” Cetina kicked the thugs head hard, shattering teeth and sending the blood-stained white fragments tumbling along the stone ground. “You were the ones trying to attack us.”

Verona huffed. “And you’re pretty bad at it too. Eight of you beaten by one woman?”

Anton was a little surprised that it was actually eight thugs following them, all quite well armed, for thugs that is. He didn’t understand what they were planning to do with Cetina, perhaps knock her out with the wooden bat one of the thugs carried, but he almost pitied them. Almost. And no one was going to find them in this little cordoned off alleyway.

“So who sent you?” Anton sighed. “As if we don’t have enough petty crap to deal with…”

Those guards at the city gates told us to keep out of trouble. Well, I’m sure they won’t find out about this but using Tethra’s magic here, and not Principle Magic at that, will probably raise some questions. Might have to do this the old fashioned way.

“It…”

Axia’s face contorted in discomfort as she watched the thug bleed profusely from his face. Her eagerness for violence had faded the moment blood had been spilt. She remained standing hard against the wall, right next to her mother. Mezot held her daughters' frown but little else besides. It was heart-warming to see her holding her daughter's hand for reassurance, for who Anton knew it simply didn’t matter.

“Didn’t even cause a scratch.” Cetina flexed her hand.

“And you didn’t fall into your trance either.” Verona smiled. “Are you just that good or are they just terrible fighters?”

“Both?” Cetina shrugged, suppressing a smile.

"So we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way."

"Why..." Mezot trailed off as attention squarely fell on her.

"Keep going."

"Why don't we hand them over to the guards?" Mezot winced slightly. "It's what they're supposed to do."

"After we've got a little information out of them first." Anton looked to the single conscious thug. "After all, they might be in the employ of someone powerful and connected, enough to get them free. Or simply have the problem disappear."

"Along with them." Cetina murmured. Verona glumly agreed.

Mezot wanted to say something but couldn't find her voice.

Anton took Cetina's sword, not before she threw him a worried glance. Verona still didn't know of the incident in Qaiviel and the burning Knight.

"I don't think you're stupid." Anton twirled the sword in the air. "At least not completely. So you already know how this goes. Yes?"

The thug nodded when Anton tapped the sword's point on his hand.

"So who hired you? And who were you after?"

The thug refused to respond, planting his face firmly against the stone.

"Come on." Anton began pushing down. "There is an easy way, and a painful way. So which is it going to be?"

A drop of blood leaked from the man's hand, staining the sword and his gloves.

"Alright." The thug grunted. "We were after her, the blonde woman."

Anton turned to Mezot and Axia, the only two blondes in their group. And Axia would probably still be called a girl.

Mezot slowly made the connection.

"M-Me?" Mezot pointed at herself, the colour drained from her face. "What did I do? I-I haven't hurt anyone. So why..."

Axia held her mother's hand tight.

"You heard her. Why did you want to hurt her?" Anton sighed. "I just hope it was hurt and not kill."

Or something far, far worse. In a dingy alley...

"Hurt. Just hurt." The thug raised his unpinned hand. "That's it."

"And the next part..." Verona clicked her tongue. "The most important part?"

The thug was once again reluctant, so Anton applied more pressure. It only took a few more drops of blood for the man to crack once more.

"Lord Pendleton." The thug spat out through harsh breaths, his eyes focused on the sword slowly penetrating his hand. "He was the one that told us...Paid us, to hurt her."

"And who is that?" Anton looked to Mezot. "Someone you know?"

Mezot shook her head. "I...I don't know. No one in the Royal Academy is a Lord. No teacher, lecturer, anyone."

"It could be a student’s parent." Anton's attention moved to Axia. "Those kids that were attacking you the other day. What were their names?

"They aren't them." Axia chuckled nervously. "They're always blabbering about their families’ power and wealth, but I don't remember one called that."

"They were also targeting Mezot rather than Axia," Verona said.

"So who else? Just to hurt, not to kill, so it's..." Anton smiled. "Remember those students on the way to the library?"

"Really?" Verona raised a brow. "All this, because you told them to move off the path?"

"Seems quite petty." Cetina murmured.

"If they've been raised as entitled spoiled brats than it's certainly possible." Anton glanced between the downed thugs, still unconscious. "Especially if they have more money than sense.”

Anton knelt by the thug. “Is this Lord Pendleton a young man?”

“Yes.”

Anton shook his head, sighing loudly. “Alright. We know who sent you. But I don’t think this is much more than just someone being a little stupid and petty.”

“So what happens now?” Mezot frowned. “I…I don’t know…”

“It’s very simple.” Anton brushed his hand against the small dagger on his hip. “Cetina? Could you take them both out of here and back onto the main street?”

“I…Okay.” Cetina gently ushered the two out of the narrow alleyway. Axia ducked and weaved her head, an attempt to watch what Anton was planning while Mezot simply obeyed, though she looked slightly intrigued as well.

“Now what?” Verona waited until they were gone before speaking. “We going to let them go?”

“Of course not.”

“W-”

Anton covered the man’s mouth and thrust the dagger through the thug’s neck, killing him after a brief gurgle of blood.

Thank god this world doesn’t have forensic science.

“Okay…” Verona frowned.

“I doubt that they’re going to just let us go, whoever the person is that sent them after Mezot.” Anton moved to the next thug. “If they just disappear then they’ll be confused about what happened.

“And if they find them dead?” Verona frowned as Anton stabbed the next thug.

“Then they’ll be worried that Mezot took them out by herself.” Anton shrugged. “Something like that. But Mezot…Imagine these guys breaking into her small room."

“Yeah…”

“She wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.” Anton stabbed the fourth thug. “And I don’t like thinking about that, even if we’ve only known them for a short time.”

Verona said nothing and allowed Anton to finish his grizzly task in peace. With all the thugs dead he motioned for her to help him drag the corpses out of the way. While it wouldn’t hide the blood, and a pile of eight bodies in a relatively narrow alleyway was somewhat conspicuous, it would take some time before they were discovered. No one had come down the alley during their fight, and there weren’t any guards posted at either end. More than enough time for them to leave and make it back to the Academy.

“No cameras either.”

“What’s that?” Verona dusted her hands as she released a thug’s arms. “You know, without my powers, these people are really heavy. It’d be so easy just to push them…Guess I’ll just have to get stronger.”

Anton found a loose piece of cloth and draped it over the bodies, shifting some debris so it looked normal.

“It’ll have to do.” Anton looked at his hands. “We’ll have to get rid of this before we head back out there.”

“I don’t think either of them know much about death.” Verona began to vigorously rub her bloodied hands on the cloth. “Do you think…Well, they’re the best we’re going to get.”

“Not without spending a lot of money and attracting some serious attention.” Anton smiled. “And no one else can get us into the library, even if we could convince some wandering Principle Mage. Besides, I like them both. They’re doing pretty well, considering their own struggles.”

“I wonder what it’s like…” Verona checked that Mezot was beyond earshot. “To be like that?”

Anton said nothing as they finished cleaning and hiding the blood as best they could. The blood-stained knife remained with the bodies. It had no defining marks, nothing more than a simple iron dagger, and it would only serve to confuse anyone investigating their deaths.

The city watch will, hopefully, think it’s just some gangs attacking one another. They certainly don’t look like reputable and upstanding citizens.

Cetina waited just beyond the alley entrance with Mezot and Axia waiting nervously beside, as much nervousness as Mezot could actually convey.

“What happened?” Axia asked, curiously glancing down the alley. “Are they still there?”

“They won’t be a problem anymore.” Anton smiled. Cetina understood and grimaced slightly. “But we should get a wiggle on and head back to the Academy. It’s getting late, after all.”

Cetina shot Verona a worried look, Verona smiled and gently shook her head. Anton took the lead back to the Royal Academy, walking as fast as he could without drawing attention. They passed small groups of the city watch, less armoured than the guards protecting the wall but still far better equipped than the thugs. It would be foolish for a common citizen to try something against them.

The Academy guards allowed them to pass without incident or scrutiny into the near-empty grounds of the Academy. Only a few solitary figures walked through the open plazas and gardens, some appeared to be secretive couples, Anton overheard one couple concerned that both of their partners already knew about their tryst. Anton shrugged lightly and continued to Mezot's small room.

"Can we slow down yet?" Axia asked, a slight redness to her cheeks. "I can't walk as fast as you..."

For some reason, her eyes fell on Verona's chest.

"When we're back and safe." Anton waved his hand back to Axia. "And try not to say anything until we are."

Axia pulled an annoyed face, one that elicited a laugh from Verona and a faint smile from Mezot, but followed Anton's words. They said nothing until they were safely inside and the door locked and barred.

"Can we talk now?" Axia asked. She motioned to her mother but Mezot had already wandered off, towards the room containing the Wyrm Heart and, somehow, her thesis.

Axia sighed. "Well, it's better than it normally is."

"You've been an incredible daughter." Anton's words elicited a slight frown from Axia. "I think most people would have given up, but you haven't."

Axia flustered. "I-She's my mother. I have to do everything I can to help her. And...I know she loves me. Even if she has a hard time showing it."

"Are they going to be a problem?" Cetina tapped the pommel of her sword. "I'd rather not have to keep looking over my shoulder in the Academy."

"No, they won't. By the time they find out, hopefully, things will have calmed down." Anton chuckled. "They'd be stupid to try and attack a lecturer...Though anyone working in the Academy shouldn't be able to be threatened like that."

"Gone, as in forever?" Axia tilted her head.

Before Anton could reply a squeal of delight echoed through the room. Mezot burst out, wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen from her.

"Why..." Verona chuckled. "Right. She gets excited by magic."

"It's done!" Mezot scampered across the floor. "I knew it. I knew that I just needed a stronger catalyst."

"Are you saying..." Anton searched for Mezot's staff, finding it resting against her table, threatening to fall into yet another pile of loose papers and books. "For a moment I thought you were suggesting that you were going to rub it on your staff."

Mezot frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"I..." Anton coughed awkwardly, tapping his boot on the hard wooden floor. "You said you were done?"

Mezot's previous energy instantly returned. "Yes! Everything is ready. I can finally become a lecturer...After so long."

"But..." Verona pursed her lips. "What magic have you actually made? You use ice and water magic mostly, right?"

Mezot nodded extremely enthusiastically, the merest mention of magic was enough to make her animated.

"I don't feel cold. Or wet." Verona shrugged. "I just think you should show us before you show anyone else."

"You did buy me the Wyrm Heart." Mezot nodded thoughtfully.

That's not what Verona means, but let's go with it.

"So I should show you."

"Not here, please." Axia's face turned bitter. "Remember when you tried to practice making water balls?”

“I remember that I created quite a few on my first try,” Mezot spoke softly, frowning as she didn’t quite understand.

“Yes…” Axia sighed. “And remember what happened when you released the water? It didn’t just disappear.”

Mezot’s flushed lightly, she glanced at her staff and refused to look anyone in the eye until her face had calmed.

“Surely we can just use the training areas that Axia used this morning?” Anton said. “How…How dangerous is this new magic of yours? Can it destroy a building in one hit?”

“No.” Mezot hurriedly retrieved her staff. “But I know magic that could. Do you want me to show you?”

She really has a one-track mind.

“Maybe not.” Anton smiled. “But just seeing this new magic of yours will be more than enough.”

---[]---

“I…” Anton held his chin, choosing his words extremely carefully. “I was expecting something a little more…Destructive.”

Mezot frowned, her shoulders drooping ever so slightly. “I thought it was impressive.”

“It is!” Anton quickly changed his tune. It had nothing to do with two women, and a daughter, throwing him dangerous looks. “It is very impressive. But, normally, I was expecting a massive ice explosion.”

Mezot held the small ice crystal aloft. It was only slightly smaller than her enclosed fist, not very large at all, but it was undeniably beautiful. The faint light emanating from the hanging crystals, the flickering orange light from the sparsely spaced torches, refracted through the intricate folds of Mezot’s creation. Anton’s first thought was of an ice-based sea urchin, it had hundreds of spikes emanating from the central core, all refracting the light in strange patterns along their lengths. The spikes didn’t press against her skin, rather hover just above that moved with her hand.

“Tell me.” Verona scratched her ear. “How did the Wyrm Heart help create this?” She peered closer to the ice structure. “Looks relatively simple to me.”

Mezot almost appeared offended. “It is extremely difficult.” She tapped one of the small spikes. “Each of these requires any extremely precise work of magic. Extremely precise.”

“Okay.” Verona stepped back, raising both of her hands. “Okay. Don’t get too worked up. Please?” She smiled at Anton. “We don’t want you to not succeed.”

“After seeing the basic expression for a simple piece of magic.” Anton frowned lightly. “I don’t want to know how messy the formula is for something like that.”

And you have to remember it completely, without referring to anything. I know I certainly couldn’t.

Mezot smiled. “It is very complicated. But I know they’ll be impressed.”

Cetina folded her arms. “Just one presentation and you become a lecturer?”

Mezot nodded.

Cetina laughed, her face quickly turned into a frown. “Do…Do you have to keep making new magic? Or even improvements to stay as a lecturer?”

“No,”

Anton shook his head. “I bet the others probably had their one hit and then have ridden on that, their one success, for several decades. Still need someone to teach the new students but…”

“Anton?” Verona tapped his hand.

“Sorry.” Anton gently waved his hand. “Got myself a little distracted there. Something…Anyway, are you prepared to deliver this?”

Mezot nodded. “I am.”

A silence settled over them.

“Well.” Anton clapped his hands together. “I think this was quite an entertaining evening. Except for what happened to that boy and what happened after dinner.”

“I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” Axia laughed. “Most exciting thing that’s happened to me since spring.”

“What happened then?” Verona leant towards her, a wicked smile on her face. “Did you get invited out for a fancy meal? Where you could eat your fill?”

Axia laughed, playfully pushing away Verona, but everyone, except for Mezot, noticed that she refused to answer.

“Are you staying for the night?” Axia asked. “There are a lot of stores that you can visit here. Lots-”

“Food stalls?” Verona licked her lips. “The best food is the fresh food you cook yourself. Well, food that Anton and Kal cook, but those stalls are the second best. Dripping fats and oils, the smoke from roasting meat…”

“Such a one-track mind.” Anton ruffled her silver hair. “But we cannot. Tomorrow we’re going to be dealing with the Dwarves-”

“You know some of the Dwarves?” Axia’s eyes widened, even Mezot was intrigued. “You haven’t been in Boreana for long, haven’t you?”

“No. Somewhere else.” Anton smiled. “But let us know when you’re going to be presenting your thesis.” Anton tapped Mezot’s ice creation. “I’m certain they’ll be floored by this.”

“Thank you.” Mezot’s lips moved, no words emanated but the ice structure disintegrated.

“Oh. Take this.” Anton passed over a small purse of gold coins. Mezot hesitated but took the purse, she frowned as she bounced the coins, slightly concerned about the amount she knew was inside. Axia gasped when she pried it apart and saw the glint from the gold coins.

“I will repay this.” Mezot bowed her head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton smiled. “But use it if you need to get something.”

Mezot continued to look worried about the sheer amount of wealth he was flippantly giving her. Nevertheless, after a bump to the side from Axia, she accepted the gold.

Verona rested a hand on her hip. “Tell us when you’re ready to show those old buggers your new magic. I know I won’t understand a thing but I’m sure Anton will get something out of it.”

Anton simply hoped that Mezot wouldn’t fumble in front of such a large and potentially hostile audience. He could only hope.

Volume 05 - Chapter 06 - The Dwarven Isles

Chapter 171:

Anton stood at the prow of The Snowberry as they approached the Dwarven Isles. At least this time their destination was clearly visible, no mist to impede their sight of the massive mountain range jutting from the calm seas, reaching tall enough to cut through the highest cloud. It was a lovely, peaceful day, with just the sound of water cascading against the hull to fill their ears. What Anton didn’t expect was the number of ships sailing through these waters; ships from Seocuria, Graterious, Qaiviel all sailed through these waters, though Anton wondered if they were simply merchants flying their flags for defensive reasons.

“Who are those?” Anton asked, pointing to three nearby ships approaching the Dwarven Isles.

Wilford drew his telescope and followed Anton’s hand. “Ah. That’s the Frindal Emirate. You can see the green crescent moon, that’s definitely them. Not a bad place, but…You definitely want every woman to look like Kal.” Wilford tried to smile. “Otherwise they could be attacked for public indecency.”

“Really?” Anton asked quietly.

Wilford scoffed. “Never understood it. They’re more than happy to ogle at everyone else’s womenfolk when they're abroad. Don't understand it. It's not like their women are ugly, maybe they think they are? Absolutely stupid if you ask me."

“And them?”

Wilford directed his telescope to a white flag, a red cross with two blue stars nestled close to the upper half of the cross.

“Ah, the Holy Kingsland. Another interesting place. They love their wine…And their god. But overall they’re quite nice people. Lots of good food and people, perhaps too many.”

“The Holy Father?”

“Yes.” Wilford lowered his telescope. “I’ve heard there’s been some mess in Qaiviel with them. They created monsters out of abducted children. Do you think that’s true?”

“Unfortunately it is,” Anton said.

Wilford looked directly into his eyes. “I’m not surprised.”

“And who’s the last one then?”

The last ship looked dramatically different. While the others could easily be described as European this resembled something from the Orient. Something about the ships sails and its general structure pulled at the back of Anton’s mind. A golden dragon, like a snake rather than a lizard, surrounded by white flapped in the wind from the tallest mast.

Maybe there were more people from Earth than just the soldier and nurse. It would make sense to try and bring their culture with them, if nothing else to not get homesick.

“Ah…The Xiam Empire.” Wilford frowned. “The largest human empire in the world. Far larger than even the Holy Kingsland. Unfortunately, that size seemingly affects their ego. They think they run the world…They kind of do, in a way.”

“Are they a threat?” Anton asked, resting against the railing. “Do they want to expand their empire?”

“No. Not that I’ve heard of. They’re more than content to make alliances with other kingdoms and empires, but that’s usually heavily favouring them.”

“Tributary states.” Anton mused. “I imagine the demands are quite harsh.”

“I honestly have no idea. But I don’t recall anyone that’s rebelled against them so it might not be so bad.” Wilford lowered his telescope. “I’ve heard it’s not always gold or silver. Sometimes it’s preserved foods or some exotic clothes. I’m sure the Frindal Emirate gives them boatloads of spices for their tribute.”

Verona chuckled. “Some hot powder is a lot easier to give away than a chest of gold.”

“They are quite expensive.” Cetina mused. “And they’re very tasty.”

"Wars have been fought over less." Anton gripped the handrail with one hand. They thought he was exaggerating but he hadn't told them about all of Earth's darker moments.

Wilford closed his eyes, folded his arms and nodded in deep agreement. Pleasant memories floated through his mind.

“What is their stance on Beast-kin?” Anton asked. Kal remained perfectly still.

“Not sure. But I don’t think they have any. If…” Wilford frowned and paused. “If you want more you’ll have to go to Seocuria…Or the wastelands to the east of the Frindal Emirate. Though I’ve heard those are hostile and feral.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever meet this Emperor of Xiam.” Anton chuckled. “Unless there’s some sort of rebellion I don’t think we will.”

“Or whenever we turn up.” Verona laughed. "We'll do something to draw their attention, I'm all but certain of that.”

The Snowberry carved its way through the open seas, growing more turbulent as they approached the mountain ranges. Anton looked through the clear water, far below he could see coral reefs teeming with thousands of fish and other sea creatures darting through the colourful coral mazes stretching as far as he could see.

Wilford rallied the crew as the approached the Dwarven port. The main faces of the mountains gave little hint they were the home of Dwarves. Anton could see the outlines of little outposts, similar to the one they had on top of Mount Aspire, with trails of smoke rising into the clear blue sky, otherwise devoid of life, at least on these faces. The port was a different matter entirely. Stone harbour walls extended far into the water, safely nestled between two mountains, forming a channel of ports and docks. Unlike the humans or the Dark Elves, these were perfectly straight and neatly organised. As ever the Dwarves attention to detail was on clear display. The channel was more than wide enough to hold a hundred ships length to length and yet it was quite cluttered.

Umikgruid and Gosthilda approached, the full throng of Dwarves right behind.

“We’re back here so quickly…If only the Dark Elves hadn’t turned up when we did.” Umikgruid smiled heartily. “But if we hadn’t a lot of those Brown Ears would have died. Probably all of them. And even I wouldn't be able to sleep right knowing we had left them to their doom.”

“Indeed.” Anton didn’t want his thoughts to linger on their involvement too much. “So which dock would be best? Which is closest to your clan?”

“It really doesn’t matter.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “There are tunnels underground that we can take. It's how they transport goods from one side to the other, on rail carts. No point in taking it over, where the wind or rain could whip at you."

“Are we going to have to crouch through these tunnels?” Verona slyly asked, her expression quickly turned serious. “I mean, I know I’m short but I’m taller than you.”

“Only in the lowest areas,” Gosthilda said. “If you’re just going to the trading areas, where humans and elves would…interact with us then it’s more than high enough.”

“We’ll just have to endure.” Anton shook his head. “But I’m sure that it’s not going to be that bad.”

Wilford received an order from a small lighthouse at the edge of the harbour and manoeuvred the ship into a dock.

“What’s our next destination?” Wilford directed his crew to lay down the wooden boarding planks. “Or are we heading back to Graterious?”

“Head to the Frindal Emirate. We’ll make another stop there, then it’s probably to the Holy Kingsland then the Mycean City States. With that route you won’t need to double back on yourself, correct?”

“Indeed.” Wilford nodded to a small group of armed Dwarves slowly approaching. Each looked more like a walking suit of armour than a Dwarf. “Is there any chance we could buy a few things here? To trade with the Frindal’s. Your payment is more than fair but I would like to maximise my profits. And the hold is essentially bare, since you aren’t bringing any Beast-kin with you.”

“Of course. But nothing illegal. I don’t want to find the ship has been impounded or seized because you wanted to bring some drugs to the Frindal Emirate.”

Wilford chuckled nervously. “Of course not. Not after last time…We’ll make sure that everything is legal, in all lands and ports.”

“Just be careful with what food you bring then.” Umikgruid waved his finger. “They don’t like beef or pork. Or chicken. So…Just take some dried fish and vegetables. That’s your best bet.”

---[]---

After paying their dues to the Dwarfs managing the dock, a hefty sum but still more than manageable for them, they followed Umikgruid through the trading levels and into the depths of the Dwarven Holds. They had no time to peruse the wares on display, even with Dwarven criers, Anton couldn't shake the feeling of the children in Boreana selling food, they did not stop. The corridors dropped in height, Cetina had to crouch lightly but she didn't complain. As they travelled further down, Umikgruid clearly avoiding the inhabited areas, the conditions grew worse and worse. At first, the stone became more rough, then wet, then moss and slime with chunks missing and still they descended.

"This isn't right." Anton ran his hand along the slime, great pools grew around his fingers.

"You can see why we want to leave," Gosthilda grumbled. "But where we live is a little better."

Some of the dwarves behind scoffed at the notion.

Umikgruid led them off the descending path and into a narrow passageway. At the end Anton saw a bright light, suspiciously bright in these dim tunnels, with ever diminishing numbers of Light Crystals the further they travelled down, illuminating a broken half column alongside the silhouette of a Dwarf resting upon the stump.

"Who goes there?" The voice boomed, echoing down the small passageway.

"It's us," Umikgruid shouted back. "Don't be a twat like that. It'll get you into trouble."

“They’re back!” The Dwarf spoke with a much lighter voice now. “Umikgruid’s back. Tell the Elders!”

The young Dwarf hoped down from the small column, only then did Anton realise he was missing a leg, replaced with a wooden peg-leg, and most of his fingers on his left hand. Apart from his voice the only real difference was his beard, shorter and decorated with fewer bands of metal.

“We’re back.” Umikgruid grabbed the young Dwarf and hugged him tight. “How’s your mother?”

“Okay. She’s doing okay. But they’ve just driven us out of another habitation block…It’s not looking good.” The young Dwarf nervously picked at his fingers. “I’ve got five other people sleeping in my room and they’re looking to put another two in there. I used to have it all to myself and it wasn’t that big then.

The young Dwarf craned his neck up to get a good look at Anton. “Are these them? Are they who you saw?”

Umikgruid smiled at Anton. “Honestly, no. They aren’t what I thought I’d find. But they are the answer to our problem.”

“Hello.” Anton knelt down, not that he had much of a choice. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you lose your limbs?”

The young Dwarf raised his leg. “Oh…I lost it in the forge. I…How much do they know, Umikgruid?”

“Enough.”

“I lost it a furnace. I’d worked for three days straight,” He looked to Umikgruid. “They’ve reduced the wages again, and without that I wouldn’t be able to pay for everyone that’s sick. So…Now I can only help with chores in the forge. And that really doesn’t pay well.”

“Let me help you.” Anton placed his hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder. “This might feel a little odd.”

“Just trust him,” Umikgruid spoke calmly. The young Dwarf had already reached for a small blade at his hip.

Anton chanted a full healing prayer. It knocked the wind from his chest but he could still stand. The Dwarf stumbled back in shock, the wooden leg rattled on the ground as a new leg pushed it free. He stared at his fingers, still wrapped in the fading white light of Tethra’s power, before touching his leg. He gasped as his stubby finger made a light depression into his flesh.

“It’s…It’s real! By Esperit, thank you! Thank you so much!”

The Dwarf hugged Anton. He was just as strong as his fellows and almost removed what little was left in Anton’s lungs. Anton patted his shoulder and gently pushed him back.

“I’m glad you’re better.” Anton took a pause to properly refill his lungs. “Just tell your friends that I can’t do that more than once a day. Just so we don’t get swamped.”

“I understand.” The young Dwarf waved them forward, deeper into the dank tunnels. “I’m sure the Elders will want to see you.”

“Let’s hope…” Verona laughed. “I’m sure they will, this time.”

The young Dwarf waved them forward. The area’s belonging to the Dragongaurd Clan were far, far worse than those above. Not only were they older but the water, seeping through infinitesimally small cracks and running down from above, gathered in great stagnant pools along the floor. Some clever Dwarf had dug small grooves into the stone to collect the water but even these overflowed with moss and slime. The tunnel widened as they reached a habitation block. It looked nearly identical to the old Blood-Hammer hold below Atros but overwhelmed and crowded with Dwarves. Anton’s first thought was a refugee camp; far too many people squeezed into a space that could barely hold a quarter. Drying clothes hung from lines between the blocks dripping onto the walkway below, stacks of items and barrels of water filled the main thoroughfares. The Dwarves stopped, Anton spied his first Dwarven children, just like a baby human but shorter and wider, and all stared at the giants visiting their realm. A great chorus of voices travelled rapidly through the block, everyone eager to understand what was happening.

“Right in here.” The young Dwarf led them to a large room on the ground level, large being relative, especially with barely enough room for a dozen small chairs crammed alongside piles of broken metalwork and crates of unknown origin. He shouted to the Dwarves above. “Someone get the Elders. They need to come here right now.”

“I don’t want to say it.” Verona chuckled nervously, taking a seat next to Anton. The wood was old but a layer of fur, goat fur by all appearances, made it far more bearable.

Umikgruid ordered their Dwarves to wait outside and keep the people at bay. Sure enough, the Dwarves surround the room, not out of anger but with a mixture of curious and hope-filled eyes. Umikgruid had left under dubious circumstances and yet he had returned, just as he said he would. Anton wondered how they would take the prospect of their new home, one potentially filled with giant Insectoid creatures but free from oppression. Time would tell.

Five Elders soon arrived; three women and two men. All walked incredibly slowly, suffering from advanced cases of arthritis, not a single strand of hair was anything but grey and all were covered in deep wrinkles and crags. And yet despite their age they still held a fire in their eyes, a desire and motivation to see things through, unlike the Dark Elves.

“I thought you would be gone forever.” The female elder in the middle began. “You have been gone for a long time.”

“It took longer than I thought, than we thought, but we have arrived with everything that Esperit promised.” Umikgruid smiled. “Maybe more. Who’s to say?”

The Elder stroked her chin. “Just given what happened to you underneath Esperit’s…touch. I thought it wasn’t a good idea to let you go.”

“I know. I would have locked me up too.” Umikgruid held his wife’s hand. “But I only received those visions when I wasn’t journeying to Atros.”

Passing out and…relieving oneself isn’t what anyone would call an ideal interaction.

“So who are your human friends?”

“Can I remove my mask?” Kal asked. “It’s quite stuffy down here.”

“Can you keep this a secret?” Anton looked to the Elders. “This knowledge cannot leave this room or your lips.”

A male Elder, next to the central Elder, chuckled. “Boy, we’ve kept more secrets than cycles you’ve been alive.”

They must be several hundred years old at the youngest. Definitely seen their fair share of weirdness.

Kal received a nod and removed her mask. The Dwarven Elders were surprised but held their composure well.

“A Beast-kin?” The female Elder mused. “So they’re working together again? I imagine that would be difficult given their history.”

“Not yet.” Kal smiled. “It’s just a few.”

“Oh…I think I understand. You have our word that this will not be spoken of outside of this room.”

Apart from the closed wooden door, there wasn’t a way to see in. Kal’s secret was safe, for now at least.

Anton quickly explained who they were, why it had taken so long and what they had found beneath Atros.

“The Blood-Hammers?” The male Elder stroked his beard, a finger playing with a small bronze encrusted dull gem. “They’ve been gone for some time.”

“We found their markings on the battered armour of long-dead warriors,” Anton said calmly. “It’s just a theory but we believe they were supplying the United Empire with the majority of their weapons. And were probably making a lot of money from it.”

“There’s still the obvious question…” The female Elder said softly.

Anton slowly nodded. “They fell for a reason. They dug too deep, possibly chasing a mineral vein, and stumbled upon these giant insectoid creatures. They must have poured in and destroyed the entire hold in under a day, we didn’t find any human or Beast-kin corpses, at least yet, and any evidence was covered up, by the survivors or the United Empire.”

“This is the place that you want us to travel to?” The elder looked to Umikgruid.

“Much better than here.” Verona pointed to the small pools of stagnant water gathered in the far corners of the room. “Can’t be very healthy for you to live around all this…"

“I saw a lot of Dwarves hiding sickness,” Kal said softly. “They put up a brave face but they’re hurting inside. I can see it in their eyes, the wrinkles on their faces and the twitches of their lips.”

Anton gently nodded. “I’ve heard from Umikgruid and his companions that things are only getting worse, and there aren’t many options left for you.”

The Elders shared a glance, even Anton knew they were up against the wall.

“Now.” Anton raised his hand, attempting to cut off any negative thoughts formulating in their heads. “Before you worry too much, I plan to transport all of your clan to Mount Aspire. For free.”

Anton summoned a lightning and fireball above his hand.

“And I have considerable magic at my disposal.”

The Elders looked quite impressed.

“I will use my magic to help take the Blood-Hammer hold back, room by room, and protect it from any further Insect incursions. I will need to have your warriors, those that could qualify, aid us to ensure they stay safe.”

“You think they’re still there?”

“Unfortunately I do. They were there before they found them and certainly sure they’ll live happily once they’d driven the Dwarves out.”

“So far we have taken back a habitation block.” Umikgruid began. “It’s got a lot of room. And I’ve taken a rubbing of the stone map.”

Umikgruid passed over a rough piece of paper.

“It’s big.” The female Elder rubbed a hand over the map. “I don’t know if it’s big enough for all of us…”

“Surely you know how to dig more,” Anton said quietly. “If the other clans are really taking advantage of you, forcing you to do all the hard and dirty work for little pay, you'll know what you're doing. I’m sure that digging in the lowest depths would count as nasty work.”

“We do.” She sighed. “We could build more. But this all seems rather risky.”

“I am more than willing to bring a few Dwarves back with us so I can prove that we are honest.” Anton looked to the decrepit state of the room. “But, if I’m honest things can’t get much worse before you snap.”

The Elders whispered amongst themselves. Anton could have listened in but he chose not to this time.

“What will this cost us?” The female Elder asked calmly.

“The transportation, for all of your clan, will be for free. Though it will take some time.” Anton looked to Umikgruid. “Small batches at first, maybe a dozen or so at a time.”

Umikgruid nodded. “Only because they won’t be used to the distortion.”

“Other than that...” Anton leant forward. “Right now we don’t have access to much of what you would call an economy, so we can’t pay you but we won’t be collecting taxes. I can’t say when that will change or how much it will but I can assure you that it will be very reasonable. Umikgruid and Gosthilda will always have my ear, as will you. In the meantime, instead of taxes, I ask for labour. Nothing too dramatic.”

“Anton has a city.” Gosthilda continued. “One that needs a lot of work. We’ve been there only for a little while and it’s come a long way. Oh.” Gosthilda smirked, nudging her husband. “They’re also giving us full control of the design of the city, so long as humans and the larger Beast-kin can live there comfortably.”

That last fact alone enticed the Dwarves. Anton thought it was so strange to become excited over such a single facet, so long as it convinced the Dwarves he didn’t care.

The Elders talked amongst themselves for almost a minute before coming to a conclusion.

“Given our circumstances, we will agree to this plan.” The female Elder said softly.

“Excellent.” Anton smiled. “You won’t regret it.”

“But, do not think that we will not be keeping an eye on you, on what you’re doing. We won’t be leaving the Dwarven Isles for human lands only to find something terrible waiting for us.”

More terrible than those giant insects?

“That’s a little harsh.” Umikgruid chuckled. “But, given my time spent with Anton and Atros I know they’re good people. They have Beast-kin living with them happily-”

Gosthilda shuffled in her seat.

“-so Dwarves will not be a problem.”

“And how do we transport almost one hundred and fifty thousand Dwarves across the sea?” A different Elder asked. “How many ships do you have? And will we have to cross Qaiviel first? Do they even have enough food for the journey?”

“Probably not.” Anton shrugged. “Qaiviel's still recovering from a civil war and I only have one ship and that’s, hopefully, about ready to leave.”

“Then…”

Anton raised his hand. “Before I get into that, how are the other Dwarven Clans going to react to this? Are they going to be mad that you left?” Anton looked to Umikgruid. “Sounds like they’re making a good profit by abusing your clan.”

“They do.” The Elders nodded. “But they want us gone.”

“They want you controlled,” Kal said. “Pushed into little areas with no hope of getting out, forced to do whatever dirty work they want for scraps, because they can and don’t want to get their hands dirty.”

Anton nodded. “And you haven’t tried to leave yet. I’d like, if possible, to do this with the utmost secrecy. Until the last moment, of course, then we take the last of the Dragon-Guard Clan and race out of here before they know what’s happening. Once you're gone they simply won't have a choice but to suck it up.”

“I still don’t understand how you’ll get so many people up to the surface.” An Elder sighed. “I’m sure the other clans know there’s a group of humans…They won’t know you’re a Beast-kin, but they’ll know that there are humans down this far, and that doesn’t happen…Well, ever.”

“We need somewhere secure.” Anton began. “Somewhere deep in your territory, away from prying eyes. That’s where we’ll establish our portal and you can start bringing your people through. Definitely the warriors first, just to make sure the scourge of these Insect creatures are put to rest once and for all.”

“What’s to stop them from killing our people again?”

“We seal the doors magically, ward them so that anything that touches them gets a lethal shock, on the outside at least.” Anton smiled. “And we’ll be down there too until we can find the breach.”

Anton summoned a Fire Imp and a Lightning Crow. The Elders were utterly stunned by their sudden appearance.

“And I can summon creatures to fight for me too.”

“Anywhere’s got to be better than here.” One of the silent Elders grumbled. “The best place would be one of the water storage blocks. No one really goes there, and we can keep control of the Dwarves that do. That’ll keep things quiet, for a little while at least.”

He frowned deeply. “The other clans will find out about this eventually.”

“Let them.” Anton shrugged. “As you said, they want you gone. And now they don’t have to pay a single copper coin. But, since we’re in the Dwarven Isles, we need to do some shopping. The hold’s forge is old, very old, and I’m sure in the interim there have been some advances.”

“Those won’t be cheap…”

Verona chuckled. “Don’t worry about that. We have all the silver in the world…Shame we don’t have a gold mine yet.”

“Gold and silver are sometimes found together.” Umikgruid smiled. “Though we didn’t see any, who’s to say there isn’t a giant lode just below the surface.”

“Excellent.” Anton clapped his hands. “We need a lot of metal working too. Especially things like armour and weapons. The Beast-kin have different bodies compared to us, some will need specialized equipment. Like Rasha, she’s easily half of me taller and a lot wider.”

“And all muscle,” Cetina smirked.

“So I’m sure you’ll have to get imaginative there.” Anton smiled. “How good are your best metalworkers? Your smiths?”

“Better than any human alive.” An Elder spoke proudly.

“They do have a very, very good smith in Atros.” Umikgruid chuckled. “For a human. Especially for what he’s got to work with. I couldn’t do better if I just had an open flame.”

“A human that skilled…”

“Jonathan said that he learnt just by practice and by watching his father,” Anton said. “The man has a real knack for smithing. So do his children…That’s something we need to talk about as well, Umikgruid. When we’re discussing my project.”

Umikgruid nodded.

“We can send you a few thousand of our best.” The Elders shuffled to their feet. “And we can easily create a list of items and materials that we will need.”

“And new Charge Stones,” Umikgruid said. “The Blood Hammers forges use the ones that you can only find in the oldest tunnels.”

“That will create some suspicion,” Verona said softly.

“We have no choice.” The female Elder shuffled forward and held her hand out for Anton. Anton gently shook the hard but warm hand. She didn’t retract and held his tight. “Can you save the Dragon-Guard Clan from rotting away in the dark depths of this hell?”

Anton breathed deep and nodded. “I can. No…I will.”

The Elder smiled. “Then we will follow. Begin the preparations with all speed. We need to be free of this place as soon as possible.”

---[]---

With the Dragon-Guard Dwarves spilling through the portal, most had to be convinced to take the first step onto the shimmering white disk and then removed when they found themselves in an ancient and long forgotten hold, work restoring and securing the hold progressed rapidly. With the Dark Elves joining them, Calo and Sheso leading, once again positioned behind the Dwarves to safely shoot over their heads, they were able to secure more and more rooms, each time magically repairing and sealing the doors while opening those that only led to secure areas.

“That’s a third of the hold secure already.” Umikgruid smiled, standing before a more complete stone map. “Are things going too easily?”

“Absolutely.” Anton mused. He looked outside of their current room, a storage block filled with rusted equipment and the desiccated husks of food, towards a pile of dead Insects. “We haven’t found any of those yet.”

“The other room?” Kal asked. She pointed to the large block far away from the rest of the hold. “We still haven’t found that yet.”

Umikgruid shook his head. “We’ve got a lot of blocks to recover before we can hope to get that far.” The Dwarf rubbed his beard. “I wonder what’s inside…”

“Hopefully nothing like the pit.” Anton mused.

Almost upon arrival, the new Dragon-Guard Dwarves sought out the stone maps, their questions were mainly concerned with the two oddities in this hold. Anton didn’t want to explain and simply told them it was under control, but they couldn’t enter either. They wouldn’t be able to open the sealed door anyway, even though it was just a few paces from the forge.

Gosthilda whistled as she ran towards them, running for a Dwarf. “The forge’s almost ready to start working again…I’m sorry that we had to drain most of your treasury.”

“It’s fine.” Anton chuckled. “Gold isn’t worth much unless you spend it.”

He wasn’t about to deny the loss he felt watching their chest filled with gold coins leave Atros. They still had the chest of gems but that wasn't the point.

“We do need that silver soon.”

“Maybe that could be the taxes?” Cetina offered. “We get to keep the silver, or most of it.”

“We’ll work it out later.” Anton smiled. “It’s all a little bit soon to be worrying about that. Especially with those things potentially still lurking below us.”

Anton pointed to the incomplete mining area beneath the main hold. “We need to cross these areas, then we’ll get this breach. If they’re not there we’ll seal it up…And then we can take a quick detour to find the second oddity. Find out what’s happening down there.”

“That’s almost underneath the mountain range to the north of Atros?” Rasha asked. She had to stoop very low to see the stone map. “Isn’t it?”

Anton nodded. “Maybe the mountain has another entrance. We could get right to the Clansmen and Orcs if we wanted to.”

“Or them to us.” Verona mused.

Anton gave a final nod and ordered their group to continue their descent. The further they continued the greater the number of dead Dwarves and Insects. He began seeing giant ballista, some still loaded but no longer able to fire. On the far sides of the wall lay the giant bolts, embedded deep into the stone wall or an unfortunate Insect. These too were growing larger and more vicious; larger teeth, claws and a much darker colour to their shells. One of these darker Insects lay behind a screen of normal Insects, probably a commander of some sort. Just like the Black Goblins to the Yellow and Greens.

Upon reaching a large ore sorting room, still full of carts and literal mountains of unsorted ore, with just two more blocks from the suspected breach Kal pulled hard on his arm.

“I hear something.” Kal drew her bow, an enchanted fire arrow ready. “Scraping its way along the floor. A lot of them.”

Anton pushed Calo and Sheso back, once again with them and taking the smart position of behind Anton. Kal pointed to the large corridor, their previous destination. Everyone waited in perfect silence until the Dark Elves began acting strange. A quick nod from Calo and Sheso confirmed they too could hear something. Anton summoned a small, bright fireball and pushed it deep into the corridor. Nothing emerged.

Still nothing could be seen in the infinite blackness. As Rasha leant down something finally moved through the darkness. An Insect, whatever they were really called, emerged, its chitonous nose sniffing for its prey. A small, thin tongue licked at the air, but this lacked the innocence of Eider’s. This creature was clearly a killer. The red compound eyes, no longer dried and cracked, focused on the small fireball. It recoiled from the light for but a moment before pressing forward. After another step it sniffed again, its teeth began to gnash and it raised its rear legs. Again Rasha moved to ask when saw it rubbing its rear two legs together. He forced magic into the fireball and threw it at the Insect’s skull. It evaporated in a blast of flame, the creature stumbled to its side and collapsed against the stone wall. Its legs twitched violently before finally falling limp and still.

Verona and Kal looked at Anton. A fresh source of the charge was racing up his tail. Not much, less than the Stitch Soldiers, but more than the Goblins.

“That thing just gave me a charge,” Anton said softly. “I’ll keep an eye on it. But that thing called for help. We’re going to have a lot more.”

“Hold here or push forward?” Cetina asked.

Anton pointed to the tunnel. “We need to push forward. There could be millions waiting below, and that’s going to make this whole endeavour pointless. Besides, Kal has a way of dealing with huge numbers of enemies in tight confines.”

Kal smirked. “Someone just needs to get me a stone.”

“Won’t this go over the Earth Mana limit?” Verona asked. “Just a thought.”

“Shouldn’t, not this far from Atros. No one said anything strange happened when we used the recharging station.” Anton summoned four large Fire Imps and Lightning Crows. “Go forward and kill every Insect you can find.”

The creatures obeyed and scampered ahead. Before they left their sight lightning rumbled and echoed through the tunnel and into the sorting room. Flashes of flame from the Fire Imp’s swords darted through the darkness.

“He was just a scout.” Anton readied a Lightning Lance. “We’re going to have to fight our way through.”

He threw the lance, striking an Insect square in its chest. It, like the other, died instantly. Kal released her arrow followed by the Dark Elves. Kal’s arrow immolated three insects and killed one of Anton’s Fire Imps. He wasn’t particularly worried, it wasn’t deliberate. The Dark Elves arrows struck the insects chitonous armour, only those that found the joints dug deep enough to cause a damaging wound, the others only embedded as deep as their arrowhead.

If only we had Eider’s venom. A little late for that now…

“Aim for the joints,” Calo said to the Dark Elves. “Don’t waste your arrows.”

“I don’t think we can get more easily.” Sheso looked at Anton.

“We could set up a portal.”

Anton looked towards the tunnel as two of his fire Imps died, ripped to ribbons by claws capable of tearing through stone.

“But we might not get that chance.”

Cetina and Rasha moved close and readied their weapons. Verona summoned her blood shards and kept them as a mauling shield of razor-sharp shards in front.

“I can handle the front.” Verona smiled. “Let’s get this done.”

---[]---

Nearly an hour passed before they reached the breach into the hold, all the while they were continuously set upon by waves of Insects. Despite Anton’s fears, there wasn’t an innumerable horde waiting in the shadows but it certainly felt close. At any one time they could easily count ten Insets, always more lunging out of the shadows. With Verona taking the lead and taking advantage of the Dwarves narrow and rigid construction there were very few chances to break through Verona’s defence. However, they were almost out of time. Verona had already drunk five mana vials and was looking weak by the time they arrived.

The room they found themselves in was very different compared to the standard Dwarven design. It was utterly massive, lacking the straight rigid order found in the other Dwarven blocks, only random and chaotic. Really, it was a large room over multiple giant voids leading down into the depths. Surrounding the pits, some glinting with shiny metal ore, laid piles mining equipment, all clearly dropped where they fell alongside hundreds of Dwarven corpses. Many pulleys and ropes led down, several Dwarf corpses were still attached to the ropes still wearing mining equipment. And out of every pit, dozens of giant Insects continued to emerge.

“Thank all the gods,” Verona mumbled. Calo and Sheso gently supported Verona underneath her arms, she was grateful for the twin’s help.

“Someone get me a stone,” Kal ordered.

A Dwarf broke formation and retrieved a small cast-off stone for Kal. She murmured her thanks as she clasped the stone tight and began her mumbled chant.

Anton glanced behind to a door, thankfully not broken or damaged. And it was the only way out of this part of the hold. Perfect for the plan.

As the seconds dragged on Verona’s shard wall began to falter. There were simply too many Insects for her to catch at once, especially with her depleted mana reserves. The Dark Elves aimed at their heads, most arrows finding a joint in their armoured plating, but one broke through. The Dwarves were stunned by the size of the creature, barely reaching the top of one of its numerous legs and stood frozen in place. Cetina and Rasha pushed their way through the Dwarves, Rasha simply stepped over them and attacked the creature. Cetina dropped her sword and held her shield tight, the swipe from the insect digging deep into the metal and tearing a great rip. Rasha growled and thrust her halberd into the Insects mouth, covered in saliva, eagerly awaiting its pretty. The pointed tip slid through its teeth and out the other side. It staggered for a moment but it was clearly dead. Rasha ripped her halberd free and kicked it back, back into the swirling mass of blood shards. Rasha was breathing very hard when she returned, a hint of a frenzy in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Anton asked.

Rasha snorted, stomping her hoof repeatedly. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Cetina shot Anton a look, she wasn’t entirely sure. Rasha's breathing did not calm nor did the wild look in her eyes dissipate. She was very, very angry right now.

“Just stay back with the others,” Anton ordered. Rasha glanced back and obeyed his order.

With each Insect’s death, the charge only grew along his tail. Already it was near the base of his tail, and he still didn’t know what would happen if it reached the base. Thoughts of King Harold flashed through his mind.

If they’re giving me the charge then maybe…

Anton created the Marble Spear.

“Verona! Make a hole.”

Verona glanced back, smirked and moved some blood shards away from a charging Insect. Before it could be peppered with arrows he threw the spear at its chest. The spear drove effortlessly through its armour and deep into its flesh. Just as before the majority of the spear disintegrated, leaving the tip embedded in its hide. The white corruption began to spread, slower than the Goblins or Ghlotsm. The other Insects regarded it with confusion and hostility. Any that tried to attack it during its transformation were struck down.

The completely white Insect shuddered and stood taller, prouder than the rest.

“Just like those Ghlotsm.” Cetina mused.

“Go down and corrupt every Insect you can find,” Anton commanded.

The corrupted insect darted through the crowds, dodging swipes and bites before itself into the pit, striking the those still climbing up with a claw swipe to their legs and back. Three-quarters of those struck began to transform, though were unable to hold on and fell into the depths. Anton had no idea if they would succeed or not but the simple distraction would be sufficient.

“Done!” Kal yelled.

A dark red and brown thick smoke leaked from her gloved hands. Instantly Kal began to gag, even to Anton it smelt utterly vile. His nose burned with unimaginably blinding pain.

Kal threw the stone into the closest pit, the Insects completely ignored it, and Anton ordered everyone back. Verona kept her blood shards inside the room, even as it began to fill with the acrid smoke, and the doors were pulled shut. Anton enchanted the door to remain shut and shock anyone bar him that touched it.

“It’s done. Verona, you can release your blood.”

“Thanks.” Verona’s unnatural red glow dissipated. “I hope it’s over now.”

Nothing tried to come through the sealed door, not even the tiniest hint of scraping claws or a wisp of the acrid smoke.

Anton retrieved Verona from the Dark Elf twins and held her underneath her arms. Verona winked, chuckled but was clearly about to pass out.

“Thanks, Verona.” Anton kissed her forehead.

Verona patted his cheek. “Make sure to reward me later.”

“What…” Sheso looked to her sister, both understood and flushed vividly, their ears turning bright red.

“Is that thing still under your control?” Kal asked. She helped him rest Verona against the wall.

“For now. It’s got a fair few under its control, but it’ll probably die when it breathes too much of that smoke. What did you make anyway, Kal?”

“I asked Tethra to make smoke that would burn eyes, skin and lungs.” Kal smiled, almost a hint of malice in her face. “For the next thirty days they'll be drowning in it.”

“Last time it was just thick smoke.” Anton smiled. “I don’t think they’re going to last long with their tunnels filling with that.”

Cetina frowned lightly. “Do you think that the other one has actually stopped? There haven’t been any more Goblins coming from that hill.”

Umikgruid approached, gently swinging his axe back and forth. “That was…Well, I was expecting a bigger fight.”

“Some heroic last stand?” Anton asked.

Umikgruid laughed. “No. But I thought I might actually stain my axe.”

“There's a chance they could still come back.” Anton took out a Strohierite gem from a small bag, binding a Lightning Crow within. “Stop any Insect that comes through that door, aim for its head.”

The Crow nodded and waited patiently on the stone.

“The Crow will buy us time." Anton turned to the twins. "We might need some Dark Elves to stay here, alongside some Dwarves. Just in case they break through."

"Leran." Calo nervously scratched the tip of her ear. "He won't like having some of our warriors down here all the time."

"We'll send some of the other clans then," Anton said. "Besides, their job will just be to run and warn us, not to fight."

"Meaning that the Dwarves are just to buy time?" Umikgruid nodded to the happy Lightning Crow. "Like him?"

"I wouldn't put it that way..." Anton trailed off. "But these things will kill everyone if they break out."

Umikgruid glumly nodded. "I would like them to have a few ways to slow them down."

"We still have money." Verona pushed herself off the wall, now with only a slight stagger to her step. "So buy whatever you need."

"I think we'll just do that." Umikgruid looked to the sealed door. "There's just one more thing to find in this hold, isn't there?"

---[]---

Every step taken through the rest of the hold, still completely silent and devoid of life, was taken with the utmost trepidation. Every step felt like they would stumble across another horde of Insects, another breach, but it was not to be. Anton had no idea if the Insects had some sort of air pocket in their underground caverns but he doubted that Kal’s toxic smoke would be the last of them. The controlled insect was fighting while descending, escaping the smoke but its horde was growing very slowly. The time needed to fully corrupt the Insects was quite long, enough for the other insects to kill most before they could fully transform. Regardless it was enough to cause chaos in their ranks. No sign of a Queen or where they laid their eggs.

The long corridor to the second oddity was utterly barren. Not a single corpse lay along its entire length. Only at the very end did they find two entangled in some eternal struggle, an Insect and a Dwarf in the most resplendent armour Anton had ever seen. It was made entirely from Adamantium. Though it hadn’t buckled the tiny gaps between the plates was more than enough to let the Insect’s claws through and into his neck. However, the Insect had been killed shortly after, an Adamantium Axe driven deep into its skull.

“At least he got the bastard that got him.” Anton mused.

Umikgruid knelt by the dead Dwarf. “This looks like a Hold Lord. No one else could afford such a suit of armour. Right…Think of him like a King."

“The king came all this way?” Verona asked. She was walking on her feet but Calo and Sheso remained close, just in case.

“Yes…” Anton looked away from the corpses to the rest of the room. “But why here when everyone else was dying?”

The rest of the room was odd, very odd. On the far wall lay a giant Adamantium and Chelium door, far larger than the door protecting the Dragon creature suspended over the magma pit. There appeared to be no lock or any sort of beam preventing access. An assortment of items just before the door, neatly organised, only raised more questions; piles of decayed food, wood and clothes, unfit for Dwarves, alongside piles of a dark maroon silk.

“Did you guys have a market down here?” Verona asked.

“Strange to bring it all this way.” Rasha murmured. “This stuff looks pretty heavy, even for me.”

“Indeed.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. He pointed to a box of what appeared to be the desiccated remains of mushrooms. “I’ve never seen those before.”

A small flame insignia was etched onto the side of the crate.

“Is that the United Empire’s?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Okay…” Anton turned to the door. “Can you get this open?”

Anton stopped when he reached ten meters from the door. His body tingled, not from a charge but something much deeper, something that ran through his very veins. He tried to summon a small lightning sphere. The sphere was distorted, drawn like gravity towards the door and slowly floating towards it. Anton stepped back and pulled the Lightning bomb away, the feeling subsided and the Lightning bomb returned to normal.

“That’s new.”

“Wards.” Gosthilda nodded. “Lots of them. Very, very powerful ones. Stronger than the ones I’ve seen on treasury vaults in The Dwarven Isles.”

“No magic’s going to get through this.” Anton sighed. “It feels like it’ll just rip it out of me. Or worse. I suppose it’s up to you and your skills now.”

Gosthilda shook her head. “There’s no lock for me to pick. We’re going to need someone a lot more experienced to deal with this. One of our Rune-Smiths should be able to unlock it. Are you sure you want to though? They wanted this sealed up tight. No one is supposed to get in here.”

“Yet they brought all this stuff here.” Anton shook his head. “And I doubt it was offerings to those Insects.”

Umikgruid snapped his fingers. He took an arrow from a Dark Elf, who was rather miffed and tossed it at the door. As it approached the arrow began to distort until it made contact, exploding in a white flash, sending sparks and splinters everywhere.

“That’s going to make things difficult.”

“Is that it then?” Calo asked. “Nothing can get close…”

“We have some things that can.” Umikgruid winked at the young Dark Elf twins. “But…They’re going to be expensive.”

“How expensive?”

“Not too bad.” Umikgruid nervously stroked his beard. “A few of those blue gems and we should be fine. Regardless, it’ll take some time. Are you sure you want to know what’s inside?”

“Absolutely.” Anton nodded. “With the silver we won’t have to worry about money for some time. Get…Get the material but don’t start yet. Umikgruid, how long do you think it’ll take to gather your best smiths?”

“For your special project? Should be sometime tomorrow.”

“I want those working before we open this door.”

Rasha leant down to Cetina. “What is he talking about?”

Cetina smiled. “That’s a secret.”

Rasha pouted, she didn’t like to be kept out of the loop. Anton doubted if Cetina truly understood the importance of the bolt action rifle.

“Alright. It’ll probably take a few days before we could open it anyway.”

Anton threw a piece of timber at the door. Again it exploded in a shower of sparks and splinters.

“Blood-Hammer Dwarves, what were you hiding here?”

Volume 05 - Chapter 07 - Chirok Scouting

Chapter 172:

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Verona asked Anton.

“Absolutely not.” Anton chuckled. “But what better place to scout out our lands than from the air?”

Anton knew that his plan was more than a little dangerous, potentially life-threatening if things went wrong. As the afternoon light cascaded over Atros, it was exceedingly difficult to keep track of time in the depths, Anton decided to test out one last thing before retiring for the day. Before them stood the Chirok’s. The large bat dogs had ample time to get used to Atros and their new environment, the pups certainly enjoyed their home, more the abundance of food over their lodgings, and it was time to use them as the flying mounts to scout the lands surrounding Atros.

“Won’t you just fall off?” Rasha asked.

Ulyaa, resting an arm on the wooden fence, shook her head. “We’ve worked on this for days, using all the silk I could…make. We’ve tested it and it won’t break or shift.”

Ulyaa pointed to the male adult Chirok. “But that means we’ve only got one.”

The adult Chirok tried to scratch at the harness on its back, just behind its wings. The caretakers gently swatted at his forearms and it relented, though it was clearly still irritated by its presence.

“But is it safe?” Rasha asked, gripping her halberd tight. “I don’t want to see Anton, or anyone, fall from the sky.”

“Me neither.” Anton jumped over the wooden fence. The Chirok pups leapt towards him and smothered him in licks and paws for attention. He quickly returned a few ruffles and approached the adult Chirok. “But I want to see Atros from above.”

“Definitely make sure you’re properly strapped in.” Kal squeezed Anton’s hand. “If you’re going to do this. I’m sure…I’m sure that we could get someone who can draw a map to go instead.”

Anton gently kissed Kal. “True. But I really, really want to see Atros from above. And there’s a few other things I want to try out.”

Kal sighed as Verona moved beside her.

“Okay.” Kal shook her head. “Looks like our husband wants to fly like the birds. Just don’t fall off, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“Is this a thing like your project?” Verona asked, cutely tilting her head.

“Well, you know the Goblins and Ghlotsm love to infest our old cities and towns…” Anton smiled. “I say they’re ours, but you know what I mean, right?”

Kal nodded. “I passed many ruins filled with them.” Kal pointed to the northeast. “But your White Ghlotsm are in that direction.”

“They’re still tearing through the Goblins, the horde is still growing. Doesn’t seem to be a limit yet but I’ll be throwing them against Surdon one day.” Anton coughed. “Anyway. My small Fireballs have some range before they lose form and just explode. So my plan is to just fly over those cities and throw those down.”

“Ah.” Verona sniggered. “That sounds awesome.”

“Or I take some of Kal’s arrows and use those…Or my fire or lightning rings.”

“You can use those in the sky?” Cetina asked, quickly raising her hand. “I know the lightning ones you can, I remember fighting against those Qaiviel mages…”

“I can do that for the fire, but I don’t use it often. Normally it’s easier just to release them on the ground…” Anton held his chin. “Then again, if I did rotate them then I could take out even more enemies.”

“Isn’t that just cheating?” Verona smiled. “They’d need a Dragon or a Griffon to even reach you. Especially if you flew right up into the clouds.”

“Well.” Anton held her shoulder. “There are things that I have planned that could do even more than that. Something I’ll tell you all tonight.”

Cetina shuffled, moving her backside as she rested against the wooden fence. Anton didn’t think many knew about their relationship, though, as with Kal, they probably wouldn’t raise any objections. He hadn’t heard anything about a bet after their last departure but there was certainly one running behind his back.

“So let’s see how you handle me.” Anton gently scratched the Chirok’s neck. “I’m not that heavy.”

The Chirok’s eye followed Anton as he jumped onto the beast. It grunted as Anton shifted his weight and found a place where he was relatively comfortable, his legs were splayed either side as the Chirok’s chest was exceptionally wide.

“Seems like it was designed for Rasha.” Anton mused, searching for the safety straps. “Or maybe Ulyaa.”

“It would be pretty easy for me.” Ulyaa smiled as their attention fell upon her. “My body’s…Probably the largest in Atros, well, wide at least.”

Cetina and Rasha assisted him in fastening the last of the safety straps, made from a mixture of Ulyaa’s silk and thick metal clips. After a quick tug he was certain they wouldn’t break and, so long as the Chirok didn’t try to roll during flight, he would be fine. A part of him was incredibly nervous to entrust his life with a beast he didn’t truly know but also excited to see the lands from the sky.

“Right.” Anton held the reins. “Now…How do we get you moving?”

He tugged on the harness, attached to the Chirok’s neck but the beast merely looked back to him with a slight frown and light pant.

“Fliodher said you would be better disposed to listen to me.” Anton leant forward to scratch underneath its bat wings, something the Chirok greatly appreciated. “But we need to get into the sky. You still know how to do that, right?”

Anton pulled the rein again, the Chirok rose but didn’t take flight. Those present laughed as Anton impotently whipped the reins much to the bemusement of the female Chirok. Anton changed his tactic and gently tapped its side while pointing to the sky. It didn’t take the attack kindly, turning its massive head towards him as it questioned his actions. Anton pointed again and finally, with a tiny bark from his mate, the Chirok lunged into the air. It massive bat wings flapped hard for it to giant flight, Anton’s body rocked back and forth under the strain but he was confident the thick Arachnid silk straps would hold. With just a few flaps he was already high in the air. He glanced back, both hands desperately holding onto the Chirok’s reins, the girls looked on extremely worried. He wasn’t about to wave and potentially fall off, even with the thick straps. The Chirok began to steady his flight, his mate beside him, and gently glided through the sky. The pups tried to follow but were not strong or old enough to and had to be wrangled back by the carers. Once food was offered they almost forgot why they were so eager to fly and merrily trotted around while fighting over large chunks of meat.

He had no idea how high they were now but Atros looked very, very small. A tiny blip of civilisation in a vast open grassland. People looked like little coloured pins slowly moving throughout the city, disappearing when they moved behind the many trails of smoke. Most had stopped, curious as to what was casting shadows over their city.

It looks so small from up here, she’s come a long way since I’ve arrived.

From their height it was easy to see the differentiation between the older sections of Atros and the newer, more ordered areas; several concentric rings inside of a rapidly expanding grid. The Dark Elf quarters looked the worst, but their tents were disappearing to be replaced with multi-story buildings.

“Okay little fella.” Anton scratched just behind his wings. “Let’s go for a little spin.”

“Can you hear me?” Anton asked through the ring.

“Is it safe to use that ring while you’re flying?” Kal asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

“I’ve still got both hands on the reins.” Anton smiled, not that the emotion was conveyed through the ring. “You should really see it from up here. It’s so beautiful. The wind wiping against my face is annoying.”

“So are you coming down now?” Kal asked.

“Soon. I can see something to the south. Some sort of light. A fire? I’m not sure…I don’t think Nithroel’s going to try and attack us again, not after the whole thing in Qaiviel. Hopefully, it’s just a Goblin encampment. I’ll go check it out and come back.”

Anton tapped a bag on his hip. “I’ve got a portal set with me. Just in case.”

“I’ve got most of my mana back.” Verona laughed. “Though I don’t know how I feel about slaughtering a few thousand Goblins after that whole thing with the Insects.”

“I can deal with them from the sky.” Anton smiled. “Create a few Lightning Rings and go from there. Just like a bomber.”

“A what?”

“Another thing I need to explain.” Anton turned the Chirok towards the faint light. “I’ll talk to you all soon.”

“Don’t fall!” Verona laughed.

He heard two women groan through the ring.

Anton found Amsore Quarry beneath him as the Chirok’s began a leisurely turn. The quarry looked almost depleted, the stones above the ground had long been completely harvested and great mounds of dirt grew along the perimeter, unintentionally forming a cheap defensive work. Even though it was nearly dark work continued, illuminated underneath a hundred burning torches as the workers chased the stones deeper into the ground.

The distant lake, with the giant Earth Towers jutting out of the water, looked extremely calm. Anton directed the Chirok’s higher and soared above them. While there were small stone connections between the towers they weren’t actually bridges; no doors or entrances existed anywhere around it. No one had an answer to what they were other than their status as a curiosity and a source of useful materials. A tremendous splash at the base of the tower startled Anton. A large chunk of the hard brown slate-like stone jutted out of the water before collapsing beneath the rippling water. Given the rate of its collapse, it would only last for a few years before nothing but stumps would remain.

To the north Anton spied the small forest, Kal’s temporary hide-out. He was too high to see if anything was inhabiting it and didn’t want to stop just yet. Beyond that, the small hill was still and devoid of life. The grass was slowly recovering but the Goblins had not returned. Or perhaps they had. There was every chance they were still inside the mountain, rebuilding their numbers for revenge, but he couldn’t spot any Goblins guarding the small entrance nor had any works been performed on the breaches down the burnt mountain slope.

Probably a good secondary base for the Dragon Guard Dwarves. Another entrance to the hold, it should be empty but one can never be too sure.

As they soared over the small mountain Anton saw the ruined village along the old Kar Kingdom road. These ruins had once harboured a large number of Black Goblins and did so once again. Though there were no fires he could see the little black forms moving against the green grass and through the decrepit wooden remains. They were stunned by the presence of something so large flying over their heads.

“Go lower. I want to hit them, give them a scare.”

The Chirok couldn’t understand his words but managed to understand his intent. The Black Goblins screamed and ran for cover, some attempted to throw spears or sling stones at them. Anton worried about their wings, unlike birds the thin membranes of the Chirok’s looked very fragile. None of their attacks could reach as they soared over the ruined village again. Anton readied and released a Lightning Ring over the village, pointing down and quickly left. As they circled around the Lightning Ring burst into life, the Black Goblins stared dumbstruck by the sudden burst of light right before the bolts of lightning rained down. Anton watched with glee as the lightning struck the Goblins and ruptured their bodies. As the lightning ring faded away Anton couldn’t see any Goblins still standing. He took another pass, dropping another Lightning Ring just to make sure.

“You didn’t get scared at all.” Anton rubbed the Chirok again, the beast let out a pleasing growl. “Must have witnessed a few storms in your lifetime. I don’t know how much longer you can fly, I don’t think we’re too heavy, but we won’t be going for much longer.”

The Chirok didn’t seem tired in any way and the pair continued to fly happily through the sky. As they flew close to Atros, towards the faint light in the distance, the female looked longingly to the city. Even without his enchanted vision, he could still see the girls waiting near the Chirok pen alongside the pups.

“Not too much longer,” Anton said, knowing she couldn’t hear over the rustling wind.

He directed the Chirok to rise again. The Accursed Forest appeared to extend without limit, on the very limit of his natural sight he could see a faint twinkle of light. Maxill.

“It’s not actually that far, just that forest’s so difficult to traverse.” Anton mused. “I’m so glad they decided that this land was too much trouble. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have Kal…And that would be a shame. Come on, let’s have a look at the south.”

The faint southern fires were now a bright pin-prick in the darkness. And there was more than one.

Could it be settlers from Qaiviel? I don’t want to kill them but they can’t know what we’re doing. If they do I’m certain our alliance with Qaiviel will end. Perhaps not. Leo agreed that there wouldn't be any attempt at settling in our lands. If they are we'll just tell him they were illegal and were removed, won't leave much room for recourse.

As they approached Anton felt relief, the weight over his heart lifted, to see the camp only comprised of Goblins.

“About two or three thousand.” Anton mused.

The camp looked nearly identical to the Goblin encampments in The Shadow Isles, though more shambolic and pathetic. With a brief eye enchantment he could see more than just the Yellows and Greens. Alongside the Blacks were several Orange’s and even some Purples. Thankfully no sign of Reds or Blues. Or the Mottleds.

“Far too close for my liking.” Anton shook his head. “Probably already on the move toward Atros. But I want to get them in one go...See if these are being controlled by the same people from The Shadow Isles. And that’ll be tricky if the place is in flames. And if they are and they shoot me down from up here...”

Anton directed the Chirok’s to circle around the encampment and land to the north, far from their sight.

“Perhaps this will be a good opportunity to see how well the other Dragon-Guard Dwarves fight.”

---[]---

"That was a little..."

"Underwhelming." Anton finished Verona's sentence.

Four hundred Dwarves and Dark Elves stood before them, Cetina and Rasha beside him for protection. The Goblin camp lay in ruin. The little creatures only required the faintest lure to bring them out. None reached their lines, all peppered with a hailstorm of arrows and bolts. The ferocity of the fight, albeit one-sided, had shaken some of the new Dragon Guard Dwarves; though they had suffered greatly, emotionally and economically, it would rarely end in violence, or violence to this degree. Some Dark Elves smirked at the Dwarves obvious nervousness and jitters but, as ever, kept their thoughts to themselves. Especially after a few harsh looks from their commanders and Anton. He doubted they were perfectly stoic and brave during their first real fight.

“The Chiroks wanted to get into the fray.” Calo nodded behind them.

Both Chirok’s rested silently nearby, wings pulled close to their bodies, and eyed off the Goblin corpses. When the fighting began they tried to attack but Anton managed to calm them and keep them from being hit accidentally. Now they eyed off the Goblin corpses with slathering mouths and pleading eyes.

“Alright.” Anton nodded towards the Goblin corpses. “But only the closest ones. You can bring some back to your pups. But only your mate. I don't want to walk back through these grasslands in the dead of night. Okay?”

The Chirok’s wandered around the lines, everyone gave them a wide berth and a keen eye, and ripped into the first corpse. The arrows and bolts proved only a minor inconvenience before the female picked several into her mouths and flew back to Atros. The male Chirok whimpered once before returning to Anton's side to pout, curling itself into a ball and hiding its face with a wing.

“Looks like you just ruined his date.” Umikgruid chuckled. “Will he let you ride him again?”

“Of course he will.” Anton gently pried the wing free, the Chirok wasn't happy but after a few good scratches along the ridge of his nose his mood improved dramatically. “He'll get to play with her the moment we get back. Besides, wild beasts really don’t have a tendency to do what they’re told. Don't want to send them both back and they just forget about us.”

The Chirok growled, pulled itself up and licked the back of Anton's helmet. As he gently pushed him away Kal caught his attention. Specifically the light frown on her face, the way her fingers plucked idly on her bowstring.

“Something bothering you, Kal?”

“The Goblins.” Kal nodded to the red piles of slaughtered flesh. “Half of them didn’t even fight that hard. Like they were half-asleep.”

“Have you ever seen them do that before?” Anton asked.

“During the winter they tend to slow down.” Kal pointed to the east. “At least that's how they behaved in Graterious. People there love the winter since they go dormant and hide in caves.”

Anton smiled. “Not so good for you then.”

Kal returned the smile. “No. Not so much for me. But, that being said, the larger encampments will be much, much easier to deal with. Easy...Easy being subjective.”

Something glinted through the darkness, picking up the faint torchlight as it descended. Verona held out her hand and caught the tiny white blob. A snowflake, nothing like the beautifully patterned crystal but undoubtedly a piece of snow.

“Cold,” Verona smirked. “Looks like I got the first one of winter. If it's anything like the past winters the snow will be coming down pretty hard soon.”

“If what Kal said is true,” Rasha began, holding her halberd tight while waving the other. “Not that I doubt her, but shouldn't you try and take out as many of the Goblins as you can? If they're not going to fight back couldn't you...What's the right word?” Rasha waved her hands before her. “Make some space?”

“If the Beast-kin and Dark Elves started arriving in the Spring or Summer, absolutely.” Anton folded his arms and nodded. “But we're going to be spending most of our energy and money on simply building up Atros. Perhaps next winter, when my project should be complete. Besides, the bound Lightning Crows will keep us safe. At the very minimum alert us to an assault.”

“Must just be on their limit,” Kal said softly, inspecting the melting snowflake in Verona's hand.

Calo and Sheso coughed loudly, simultaneously, to gather their attention.

“Since we still have to make it back home,” Calo began. “Do you want us to search the camp?”

The camp tents weren't on fire, at least not yet, but Anton couldn't see any movement. However, it didn't mean the creatures were gone. He wondered how many had died thinking an area was safe only to catch one of the little Greens lunging from the darkness brandishing a stone-tipped spear.

“We'd better had.” Anton created three Small Lightning Crows. “But never check any tent on your own. And never go without someone with a loaded crossbow or arrow. These things...You all remember The Shadow Isles.”

The Dark Elf twins nodded glumly. The loss of the majority of their clan was something they would never forget.

Anton relayed the order to Umikgruid and the other Dwarven commanders, really those with slightly more age and experience underneath their beards, apparently it was a Dwarven saying, and broke them into small groups. Anton followed close behind with the Small Lightning Crows circling overhead just waiting for the tiniest sign of a living Goblin. As they began searching Anton created several small bright fireballs to illuminate the camp better there was no reason for anyone to be skulking around in the dark.

The search revealed little of note, nothing too unusual for a Goblin camp. Everything was made from animal furs, stone tools and straight branches broken to a rough length to form their tents and weapons.

“Something's bothering you,” Verona said softly. “I can tell, something in your eyes. You think something's not quite right.”

“The Shadow Isles...Those Goblins used what they stole from the Dark Elves. Alongside the normal furs, probably from rabbits or some other poor little creature.”

“Right?”

“So where did they get these big sheets of fur from?”

Anton motioned to one of the larger tents, covered by a large light brown piece of fur. It had already been thoroughly searched, nothing of note lay within, but the exterior lay completely untouched, by their hands at least.

“Oh. I see what you mean.” Verona pointed to the top of the tent. “I can see where it's sewn together. Nothing like mine...Although I did get a lot of help from the Dark Elves. So-”

“Kobolds,” Kal said softly.

She, alongside Cetina and Rasha, was inspecting a smaller tent for potential supplies, not that Atros truly needed them.

“That's where they got the fur from. Hundreds of them. Entire tribes…”

“I thought the Goblins wouldn't fare so well against them.” Anton looked around the camp. “But if there were this many, and they descended upon a small tribe, I can see why they would be defeated.”

“Is that what it was?” Rasha idly spoke as they returned. “I smelt something a little odd. But I thought it was the Goblins...What is a Kobold, anyway? Seocuria didn't teach us a lot of things outside of how to work. And have babies.”

“Think of them as a giant dog and rat creatures,” Anton explained. “But they're pretty strong, all things considered. So one of their tribes was close enough for these little runts...”

“Do you think Nithroel's finally broken her agreement?” Verona asked, dramatically rolling her eyes. “I mean, she already has once so why not a second time?”

Kal shook her head as she approached a large section of the Kobold fur on the large hut. “No. Not this time.”

She drew her dagger and gently prodded at the fur, lifting the hairs until she found what she was looking for.

“Female,” Kal said softly. “This Kobold was a female.”

“Can Goblins reproduce with them?” Verona asked. “Seems a bit of a waste to just kill and make tents out of them.”

Before Anton could reply, not that he knew the answer, Kal grumbled again.

“So is this one. And this one.” Kal ran around the entire tent, prodding the fur the same distance from the seam connecting each slightly differently coloured patch. “They all are.”

“Maybe it's softer?” Anton suggested. “This might have housed the higher ranked Goblins. They could easily get the better equipment, bully is probably the right word.”

“Just very strange.” Kal mused. She stopped at a joint and pulled the fur apart. “Verona? Do you remember those humans from The Shadow Isles?”

“How could I forget?” Verona raised a brow at Anton.

“Do you think a Goblin is capable of making this?”

Kal held open the fur. The stitch work was very good, far better than anything he'd seen the Goblins cobble together, even from the more advanced breeds.

“They came from the south.” Anton mused. “Well, the south-east. Actually. And we know there's a big nest of these things that way.”

“The old capital.” Verona sighed. “Surdon. Imagine if those people are living there? They'd have...”

Verona groaned, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. “You don't think they're actually there, do you?”

“It's where those wooden armoured Goblins came from,” Cetina replied.

“The what?” Rasha asked, though no one answered.

“And these.” Cetina pointed to a dead Orange Goblin. “All of these are coming from that direction.”

“I'll swing the White Ghlotsm horde down there once it's finished its task in the north.” Anton sighed. “If they are...We're in a lot of trouble. Again. No word from Ferula. And no way to node the Earth Mana or more Strohierite stones.”

Anton's eyes caught another falling snowflake. “Just in time then.”

“So?” Rasha asked softly. “What now?”

Anton whistled loudly. “Time to go back home. No point in just wandering around here all night. I'll burn the camp just before we leave.”

“Speaking of winter,” Verona smirked as the Dwarves and Dark Elves began a hasty retreat to the hill upon which the lightly dozing Chirok continued to rest without a care. “I've actually completed one of my pieces. Not the colourful one, the one using the Chirok feathers.”

Verona laughed as she held his hand. “I don't need to worry about which feather goes where, I just need to make sure they're all the same size.”

Anton kissed Verona's forehead before squeezing her tight and against his side. “Who's the lucky person it’s made for?”

Verona tapped his waist. “No wonder Rasha thought that was weird. Well, it's made for someone very special to me, so that'll have to be the best clue you're given.”

“Could be a whole bunch of people then.”

Anton dogged a light kick.

“Meanie.” Verona pouted.

“I'm sorry to interrupt.” Calo, Sheso right behind, approached as the last of the Dark Elves raced past to the small hill. “But are there winter clothes in Atros? The Shadow Isles doesn't get cold during the winter.”

“I didn't think it did,” Anton smirked. “If it did there's no way the women would have dresses with slits reaching their hips.”

“I thought that was how everyone else dressed. At least when you’re not readying for war.” Calo shrugged lightly. “Turns out we were wrong.”

“Ceccitol's children didn't wear them,” Verona said softly. “Does wearing it means you've become an adult or something like that?”

The twins nodded.

“Well, there you go,” Verona smirked, her eyes trailing over the twins. “I wonder if Atros will take on something like that, since there's going to be so many Dark Elves here. You two are going to have to show us the right height though. Some of those we saw were really, really high. Like right up here, they might as well have been naked-”

“Stop it.” Anton held Verona's helmet. “You're putting them off.”

The Twins were slightly embarrassed from Verona's words but calmed quickly the moment she stopped, much to her delight.

“It's alright.” Sheso smiled. “They're not so bad. Actually, I think they're really pretty. Shows off our best features. At least that's what mother used to say.”

That they did. Just about every female Dark Elf I've seen has the body that allows that style of dress to work. The amount of fat that you carry is essentially zero, especially the Green Moon...You two would easily turn heads if you wore them, even in a room of Dark Elves, especially if they were matching or mirrored...

“I'm not going to force you, or anyone, to wear something just because that's what you're supposed to wear.” Anton waved them forward, pushing his previous thoughts to one side. “But on a more serious note, we'll buy some appropriate winter gear from Bebbezzar. Since we don't want to give Seocuria any more money than is absolutely necessary. Speaking of, tomorrow night I have something very special planned for them. Something that I know is going to make two of you very happy.”

Kal and Rasha shared a glance, obvious as to who he was addressing but not immediately what for. A mere second passed before they understood. The raids of Seocuria were about to commence.

Volume 05 - Chapter 08 - Seocuria's Long Vigil

Chapter 172:

Darkness began to fall over the dry savannah of Seocuria. Though winter had come to Atros and the southern countries the lands of Seocuria, especially those far from the coast, remained extremely warm. Warm enough that they could easily pass for travellers not willing to pay an Inn for the night's accommodation, an adequate story. Anton and the girls established their camp and portal some distance away from the road. With only a small fire they waited for night to truly fall.

“Do you think anyone followed us?” Cetina asked, shifting her horse to block the direct light heading towards the road.

“No.” Anton smiled. “But they were looking at us weird.”

Verona nodded. “We are the lightest people they’ve seen in a long time. Even though we’re this close to the border. I guess they don’t get many visitors from Graterious.”

The Seocurian merchants and travellers all slowed to gawk as they passed. Most attention was directed at Verona’s pale skin and silver hair but Anton and Cetina didn’t avoid some scrutiny. Thankfully Kal was just regarded as a complete oddity and not worthy of further scrutiny. Some tried to stop and chat, if nothing more than gossip, but Anton politely continued on their way. If they chatted there was every chance they could give away hints, hints that would make their activities in Seocuria all the more difficult.

A slight rustling of branches came from behind. Anton readied to strike but it was Kal, crawling through the bushes. Though her face and tail were hidden he could tell that she was very happy.

“There’s a plantation nearby,” Kal spoke softly, taking a seat next to Anton and resting a hand on his leg. “I’m not sure exactly how many guards there are but I counted thirty. About two hundred Beast-kin.”

“Is that large or…” Anton trailed off.

“Small.” Kal rummaged through her pack, lifted her mask and began to nibble on some dried meat. “It’s a fruit plantation. Well, nuts. Too dry here to grow fruit. The nearest river is two or three miles away.”

“Cetina? Could you tell everyone to come through? The slaves aren’t just going to break free on their own.”

Cetina nodded, finished her drink and stepped through the portal. She returned a few moments later, far less dizzy than before, followed by Rasha, Ulyaa and Eider. Once they were cleared from the portal the Green Moon Dark Elves began to file out.

“My skin’s crawling to see this place again.” Ulyaa scratched her arms. “All the bad memories are coming back.”

Eider nodded. Her head drooped low as a clawed finger played with the scales on the rim of her hood. Rasha tried to act tough but Anton saw the slight tremble in her legs. He tapped the armour on her arm, just the single touch was enough to instil some confidence.

The last Dark Elf stepped through, Cagec, and looked around. “We are actually in Seocuria. That’s…A surprise.”

Verona chuckled. “After everything that Anton’s done you tend to get used to it. No…No Calo or Sheso tonight?”

“Not tonight. Leran wanted to speak with them. And since they can’t use the bow yet, and we need to be very quiet…”

“I understand.” Verona idly brushed away the pieces of dry grass stuck to her pants. “They have a different mission. Right? There are all kinds of fighting, and not all involve killing.”

Cagec said nothing. Before he could answer Verona gently pulled Anton and Kal to their feet.

“It’s not too far.” Kal pointed the direction she came. “It’s pretty easy to see if we just travel that way for a short walk.”

Cetina began collecting the portal stones and slung them over her back. There was no way they were going to leave something so valuable behind.

“Cagec.” Anton began. “Have a few of your warriors stay behind. Guard the horses and the fire. We’ll be returning here when we’re done.”

Cagec pointed to six Dark Elves. They nodded, not overly concerned they weren’t going to fight, doubly so over something that really didn’t concern them. Four took up hiding positions while the remaining two pulled their hoods tight and sat around the fire, for anyone approaching they were two Seocurian travellers huddling around a fire, not two Dark Elves.

Anton signalled them to advance. The Dark Elves slipped silently through the thin undergrowth, darting from tree to tree. The Beast-kin girls, however, were finding things a little more difficult and noisy; Rasha had trouble with low branches and Ulyaa was too wide in some instances. Eider found it quite funny and hid a smirk, not very well though.

Kal whispered something as they approached the edge of the small savannah forest. The Dark Elves lowered and readied their bows, the Beast-kin girls simply tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The plantation was very simple; three small wood and stone buildings lined next to the road in front of rows of trees, a tall wooden fence surrounding the plantation with a larger mud brick building to the side of the three wooden buildings at the front. A few lights leaked from the central wooden building, silhouettes of guards moving past windows with more shadows of those inside. The larger mud brick building had no lights or any movements but had six Seocurian’s outside. Unlike the heavily armoured soldiers in Danafra these wore much lighter gear, more befitting the arid climate. Despite that it was unlikely the Beast-kin slaves, unless they had someone like Rasha, could mount much of a resistance against them.

“Here we go…Your armour.” Anton turned to Rasha. “Your armour’s too bright. It’ll give us away when we approach.”

“What?” Rasha’s armour clinked as she looked at her arms. “Oh…I see what you mean. I didn’t realise…”

“We could camouflage it.” Cagec offered, though his eyes hid a wince. “But it’ll take some time.”

“Did you actually want me to fight?” Rasha asked softly.

“Not yet. I don’t know how the slaves are going to react when we turn up.” Rasha looked a little disappointed. “And I don’t want you to get stabbed with a spear, I can’t heal people if they’re already dead. What weapons do the guards normally use?”

“Spears.” Kal began, Rasha looked a little happier. “Some of the bigger Beast-kin can be very dangerous so it’s a good idea to keep well away.”

“I’m sure you outreach them, Rasha, but if any survive we don’t want them to have any idea Beast-kin were involved.” Anton smiled at the Dark Elves. “If we are spotted they’ll probably think it was some rival Seocurian business. At least, that's the plan.”

Verona chuckled. “Maybe we should do that. Throw a little chaos into their midst.”

“More than just a bandit attack?” Anton asked.

Verona shrugged.

“I’ll wait here then.” Rasha smiled. “I’m sure they’ll be surprised to see me. You’re coming back this way, right? I don’t want to be left behind in Seocuria, not after getting away from it.”

“Of course. Now, Eider and Ulyaa?”

“We’ll come.” Eider glanced at Ulyaa, the Arachnid took a moment before returning the nod.

Cagec whistled, mimicking a bird’s whistle. “Take out every Seocurian guard. Don’t hurt the Beast-kin slaves. They should all be inside, yes?”

“They should.” Eider pointed to the big mud-brick building. “If I was in one of these plantations that’s where they would put us.”

“It’s where the guards are too.”

“What about the owners?” Anton asked. The Beast-kin girls frowned. “Will there be women and children here?”

“Yes,” Kal said calmly. “I’m not sure what to do about them.”

Cagec shuffled closer. “If you want this to go smoothly, and no one know about this, it’s best to kill the owners. All of them.”

Anton scratched his beard. “They might not fight us but if they survive and see us running with the Beast-kin to the trees…Just make it quick and painless.”

“I think it would be best to start a fire once we’re done.” Cagec pointed to the trees of the plantation. “That way they’ll think it was just a fire and the Beast-kin fled. They’ll definitely find the tracks leading towards the forest regardless if we try to hide them. If they don't find tracks or bodies they'll find that even more suspicious.”

“Lots of practice?” Verona asked.

Cagec glumly nodded. A pirate needed to be ruthless in order to survive.

“Four Dark Elves are to stay with them at the tree line,” Cagec ordered. He pulled his hood tight and readied his bow. He whistled, a different bird sound and the Dark Elves slinked through the dim light towards the plantation.

“Pull that cloak tight, Cetina,” Anton said. “Your armour is just as shiny as Rasha’s. Not to mention those colours.”

Cetina nodded and followed them closely behind. The Dark Elves moved like a silent wave across the dry grass. Their experience moving silently through their fortress, trying to hide from the Goblins, paid dividends here. Anton received many looks from the Dark Elves; their boots were almost silent while their own grass crushing underneath their steps was unbelievably loud. He even received a derisive look from Kal, thankfully it was playful.

The Seocurian guards were caught completely unaware. Most were drinking or dozing, not keeping an eye out towards the forest, not that it would have done them much good. A black arrow jutting out of one of their companions was the first sign something was wrong. Before they could ready their weapons the next guard feel, then the next. Within but a few seconds all of the guards at the front of the plantation were dead. The people inside the central building did not come out, there were very loud and drunk sounding voices coming from within.

Cagec looked back, whistled and waited for Anton to approach.

“All dead.” He whispered. “We should deal with these buildings first.”

“What about the other guards?” Anton asked.

Cagec signalled to the Dark Elves at the edge of their lines. They scampered over the low wooden fence. After a few twangs of arrows they returned.

“Everyone’s dead.” A Dark Elf reported to Cagec. “Just those inside this building.”

“That quick?” Anton asked.

The Dark Elf warrior nodded. “No armour covering their face. One arrow to the head is more than enough.”

“Well…This is a small plantation.” Anton waved the Dark Elves forward. “Deal with those inside.”

Cagec motioned the Dark Elves to advance. They slunk towards the building and peered through the murky glass window. They darted down and signalled, with hand gestures, back to Cagec.

“Seven people. Three women and three children, one man.”

Verona bumped his side. “Seocuria’s the place with harems. Probably a lucky…”

“Unlucky tonight.” Anton rubbed her head. “Deal with them. Quick and as painlessly as you can.”

Cagec signalled the Dark Elves. One knocked on the door, he drew his swords while the others readied their bows.

“What is it?” A muffled woman's voice called out. “Do you not have enough wine? We have some more if you want.”

The Dark Elf knocked again. A sigh came from within, the revelry began to dim.

“Brother, are you that drunk that you can barely stand?”

The Seocurian woman peered through the murky window. The dead bodies did look like someone drunk, the light was too weak to see the growing pools of blood.

With a faint creak the door began to open. “I have to say, that if you think-”

A Dark Elf released an arrow, through her jaw and out of her temple. She staggered, the Dark Elf opposite caught and threw her clear of the building. The Dark Elves rushed in. Panicked screams followed, a spray of blood splattered against the wall, thumps of bodies crashing over furniture before everything fell silent.

The Dark Elves emerged, their thick cloaks stained with blood.

“It’s done.” One said calmly.

Anton saw a young hand lying limp on the floor, the pooling blood seeped through the cracks in the floorboards.

“We’ll burn them once the Beast-kin are safe.” Anton smiled, ignoring the death of the child. “A good send-off for the former slaves.”

The Dark Elves shut the door and slinked back into the shadows. Eider and Ulyaa remained perfectly quiet during the slaughter. The death of the Seocurian children and women didn't faze them in the slightest. Anton wanted the slavers gone, not the wholesale slaughter of the Seocurian people. Stopping that, the revenge attacks, was going to be a tall order.

They approached the mud brick barn, the other Seocurian guards all lay dead, none knowing who their killers were.

“Are they just sleeping in there?” Anton asked. “Just thrown into the barn?”

“We were thrown into those cells,” Ulyaa said quietly. “We didn't have much of a choice.”

“True. Is there going to be someone that’s going to charge out and try to kill us?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Eider looked to Ulyaa. “But if they see one of you they might be scared. I’m sure they’re listening to us. At least the Felines and Canines will be.”

“Open it up,” Anton ordered.

The Dark Elves knocked the beam holding the door shut free. The doors hinges tried to push it open naturally, letting in what little light remained in the setting sun. Anton summoned a fireball, a weak flame as to not scare the Beast-kin, any more than he already had. Beast-kin eyes stared back, a pile of fur and scales hiding on the far side of the room nestled in piles of old straw and hay. A waft of faeces and urine flooded out, the straw wasn't used to keep them warm.

“They aren’t moving,” Verona said quietly.

“I wouldn’t.” Anton rubbed his beard. “Imagine if this was some sort of trap.”

The slaves spoke rapidly amongst themselves, none were willing to come closer while most chose to crawl further away.

“I could try ordering them…” Anton looked to Eider and Ulyaa. “But I might need you two for this.”

The girls closed their eyes, took a deep breath and slowly approached the door.

“It’s alright now,” Eider spoke very gently. “The guards are dead. It’s all…going to be alright now.”

None of the slaves were willing to move.

“We aren’t slaves.” Ulyaa raised her body up, just to show that she was an Arachnid. “At least not anymore.”

“But you need to come with us.” Eider chuckled, her tail swishing slightly through the cooling air. “Unless you actually like being a slave.”

Eider held her hand out into the darkness. Slowly a Beast-kin, a fellow reptile, stepped forward. His legs shook, not just from nervousness, as he walked towards her. The others watched him in fear and cautious optimism. Another reptile, a female, tried to run after him but the others held her back.

“You…” The young reptile, hunched over, picked at the scars, young and old, covering his arms. “A Cobra…”

“Yes.” Eider knelt down. “I was a slave. Just like you. But now we are going to free you. All of you. But.” Eider raised a finger. “You need to come with us right now, otherwise you're going to stay here for the rest of your life. Someone else might come along soon and we can't be discovered.”

“Where is Master?” The reptile winced, picking at a small area of ruined scales above his eyes. “Why haven’t the guards…”

He saw the dead Seocurians lying at the feet of the Dark Elves. “What?”

“They’re dead. All of them.” Eider outstretched her hand again. The Reptile was still hesitant, his eyes focused on the Dark Elves. In the low light, and with their hoods up, they looked just like Seocurians. Obviously very confusing.

“Take off your hoods,” Anton whispered to Cagec. “They’ll understand.”

Cagec repeated the order and the Dark Elves obeyed.

“What?”

“Dark Elves.” Eider shuffled a step forward. “And the humans with us are our friends. The humans that actually made this happen. Without them…You’d be a slave for the rest of your life. And I know, I know, deep down, you always wanted to be free. Even if you really don't understand what it means. If only to stop the horrible beatings and work you’ve had to endure every day.”

The reptile slowly nodded.

“If you come with us we can show you a life that’s far, far better than this.” Eider stood up. “But you need to come with us now. Otherwise, when the Seocurian’s find what we’ve done, they’re just going to put you back in chains.”

Eider lifted her arms and rotated her wrists. “I haven’t worn chains since the middle of autumn. You have no idea how good it feels.”

The reptile took a step closer. “How? Where can we go in Seocuria…”

Eider winked, something that looked rather odd on a snake. “You’re just going to have to trust us. Well, trust him.” Eider pointed at Anton. “He’s the one that organised all this.”

Not really but…

The reptile nodded and took Eider’s hand. Ulyaa smiled back at Anton and shrugged dramatically; she really wasn’t needed. The female reptile broke free of the others and ran to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back.

“You can’t go with these people.” She whispered harshly. “Do you have any idea what they’re going to do to you when Master returns?”

“They’re all dead,” Eider said. The reptile didn’t believe her, not until Eider pointed at the dead Seocurian guards. “All of them.”

“They really are…” The female reptile stepped back, a few fingers lingering on his.

“Come on.” Eider smiled. “It’s time to go.”

The Reptile didn’t move, Eider had to take the initiative. She pulled him out of the building and into the dim light. His female friend followed, the other Beast-kin right behind them. All were scared beyond belief, battered and bruised, those with fur and scales were mangy and covered in rashes and patches. Eider brought the two reptiles before Anton. Now that he was presented with them he found himself lost for words.

“Everything will be alright now,” Anton said calmly. “No more slavers, or masters await you in your new home. You will be treated, all of you will be treated as equals. But first we need to do something about that wound.”

The two recoiled as Anton placed his hand upon the Reptiles shoulder and healed him. He was utterly shocked to see his body restored, restored to how it should be.

Eider chuckled. “I was like that too. I could barely see when we first met. And he can do that for everyone. But…I think Anton will agree that we need to leave now.”

Anton nodded. “There is something that we need to do first.”

Though the slaves now listened to Eiders words the sight of the dead Seocurian guards brought them to a dead halt. A mixture of disbelief and fear, of the inevitable reprisals and the generations of beatings and punishments, kept them locked in place. Even the Dark Elves could only usher a few forward. Anton opened his mouth to speak when an elderly canine snapped, yelling with a primal rage before kicking and beating the closest Seocurian corpse with everything ounce of strength his frail body could muster. The release of suppressed anger spread and consumed the others, beating the dead while hurling abuse and untold obscenities at the guards. It became clear extremely quickly that the guards were of the vilest kind and responsible for more than one blatant murder of an elderly Beast-kin that simply had trouble moving in the morning. Anton didn't need to guess who that was.

“Come on,” Anton ordered. The furious Beast-kin stopped and looked to Anton. “We have to leave.”

Anton created multiple Fire and Lightning bombs. The realisation of his power quickly cowed the Beast-kin into submission, they followed his and the Dark Elves instructions without complaint.

“That wasn’t too bad.” Eider chuckled. “Will I have to do that every time?”

“Probably.” Anton withdrew the Lightning Bombs and threw the remaining Fire Bombs over the plantation trees. “No one can know about this. If word gets out it’s all over.”

“Why?” Eider tilted her head, cutely licking at the air.

“Because Seocuria has Principle Mages. And I’m not too confident against them. Well, at the very least hiding from them.” Anton patted Eider’s head. She didn’t move his hand away, looking up at him with honest searching, and strangely piercing eyes. “And I don’t particularly want to die.”

“What mage could threaten you?” Eider pointed to the plantation’s trees, rapidly engulfed by flames. “When you can do that?”

“A lot,” Ulyaa said calmly. “Probably. Cetina told me about the fight he had in Qaiviel.”

“Really?” Anton looked to the Bebbezzarian. She looked away, feigning innocence.

They began to return to the forest, Anton looked back and saw Ulyaa a few paces behind. She looked concerned with something, something deep within her, but when she saw Anton looking it faded away. She forced a smile and quickly caught up.

“If something’s wrong, say something.”

Ulyaa nodded but said nothing.

The Beast-kin slaves were halfway to the forest when Anton signalled for the Dark Elves to stop. Immediately they fell into a panic, fearing an elaborate trap.

Anton smiled and summoned more Fire Balls. “I just want you to witness something before you go.”

The wooden buildings were an excellent source of combustion, illuminating everything in a bright flickering orange in but a minute. The Beast-kin slaves looked on utterly shocked and stunned, but he could see the smiles on their faces. They needed to see their hell engulfed in flames.

“Where…” The reptile began. “Where are we going?”

“To the forest for now.” Anton smiled. “We need a safe place to establish the portal.”

None of the Beast-kin understood his words but followed them regardless. Rasha emerged from the forest, the Beast-kin backed away until her blue skin was revealed from the small fireball.

“Hello everyone.” Rasha smiled, holding her halberd tight. “I’m so glad that you’re all free. Don’t worry. It won’t be long now.”

“A…Minotaur?” One of the former slaves asked. “But blue skin?”

Rasha nodded. “Anton accepts everyone. No matter what they are.”

The Beast-kin murmured amongst themselves.

Cetina quickly established the portal. The Beast-kin backed away from the shimmering white disk, Eider stepped forward and waited for the Beast-kin to calm down.

“We just need to step through here, then you’ll see the wonderful place that Anton is building for us.”

You’re making it sound like I’m some sort of saviour…Again. I’m sure this is going to end well, a whole bunch of desperate and thankful people…

Eider picked the two reptiles. She held their hands tight and stepped through the portal. As the white flash receded from their eyes the Beast-kin murmured and grew increasingly anxious. They weren’t willing to try and run, some nearby Seocurian was more than likely on the way to investigate the fires.

Perhaps we can use that, Tethra’s magic could be used to extract all sorts of information.

The portal flashed and they stepped back through. The Reptiles were clearly suffering from the distortion, though one could not deny the smiles on their faces.

“It’s…It’s incredibly...” The male could barely formulate words. “You have to see it. There’s so many Beast-kin, humans…It’s a real place.”

“And you all need to come through.” Eider smiled, stepping to one side. “Someone will be waiting for you on the other side. They’ll take care of you, make sure that you get food, water and somewhere to sleep. An actual room, not just a dirty barn with some old straw. Though the first few nights you might have to sleep together.”

The small admission of their bunking arrangements concerned them little as they patiently stepped into the portal. At one point a rush nearly developed but Rasha stopped any such notions by simply stepping forward. None of the Beast-kin could compare to even a quarter of her muscle mass, even after a full healing.

With the last of the Beast-kin sent through to Atros Cetina began to collect the portal stones.

“Now what?” Eider asked, a slight giggle to her voice. “That was a lot of fun. Ah, the looks on their faces. Can I keep doing this?” Eider looked to the Dark Elves. “With them, of course. I’m not ready to fight like them.”

“You already asked for this job.” Anton patted her head again. He heard a grinding of metal, he pretended he wasn’t seeing Rasha look more than a little jealous in his peripheries. “But yes. I’m sure these little nightly excursions are good for your warriors too, Cagec.”

Cagec nodded. “We need to ensure that our senses and skills don’t dull. We cannot hope to be proficient warriors if become slack and fat.”

“I think I’ll have to pass on this.” Ulyaa smiled. “I really didn’t do anything. And, well…”

“Well, what?” Anton asked.

Ulyaa pointed to her arm, specifically her exposed skin. “My upper body does look a lot like a Seocurian. I know it’s pretty hard to say that with this…But I don’t know. I think I’ll just take you up on the magic instead.”

“The what?” Eider asked softly.

“Another time.” Anton clapped his hands. “Send…Hang on.”

A small light approached the burning plantation along the small dirt road. Anton enhanced his vision; a small Seocurian military patrol. These had armour somewhere between the plantation guards and those in Danafra.

“We might need you for a bit longer, Ulyaa. How much silk can you make right now?”

“Now?” Ulyaa’s legs tapped nervously. “Right now?”

“Yes. I don’t have any rope.”

“I…A bit, I suppose.” Ulyaa reached for Anton’s arm, a nervous expression on her face. “But it doesn’t come out like that. I know you know that-”

“It’ll be fine, Ulyaa. We’ll make it work.”

“And the plan for them?” Verona nodded to the still raging fire. “You were just saying you didn’t want to make a scene. Well, any larger than what you’ve made there.”

“If we plan to strike at Seocuria we need information, information that the Beast-kin can’t provide. Where are their bases, patrols routes and routines, how they’re paid and any trouble spots with the Beast-kin. We could hit those and no one would be the wiser.”

“Paid?” Rasha asked. “Why does that matter?”

Anton smiled. “If they’re not getting paid it’ll make them far more willing to break and run away. I wouldn’t risk my neck against someone like you without being paid.”

“I don’t get paid…” Rasha trailed off.

“Taking them alive will be a little more difficult,” Cagec said. “But I’m sure we can gather a few.”

“Wait until…” Anton shook his head. “Do what you need to in order to capture them. I can heal them if they’ve lost an arm or something. If they’re not cooperating don’t hesitate to break a finger. I'd like at least one.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 09 - Brutal Measures

Chapter 174:

“Why don’t you just draw the locations?” Anton slammed the wrapped piece of charcoal on the table. “And this time don’t try anything stupid.”

The Seocurian Captain, stripped over everything bar his pants, trembled in fear. His terrified eyes specifically lay on upon Rasha, her arms to be precise. Another Seocurian soldier, a lieutenant lay whimpering in the corner with two broken arms. Beyond his whimpers, Anton could hear the forty-odd captive Seocurian soldiers in the prison next door. The Dark Elves had captured only those that they thought were important, the rest were swiftly killed and their arrows retrieved. Those that would find the massacre would be hard-pressed for an answer.

“This armour is very thick.” Rasha removed a small, thin dagger from the back of her hand. “But I’m more than strong enough to block you even without it.”

“And to think you would have a blade hidden between your buttocks.” Anton almost smiled. “Now. The locations of all of your bases and patrol routes. If you would be so kind.”

The Captain continued to stare at Rasha. He cared nothing for Verona or Cetina, nor Kal who continued to wear her mask and hide in the corner of the room.

“How can you honestly work with these creatures?” A sense of bravado returned to the Captain, a lifetime of belittling and demeaning Beast-kin gave him a sense of mental strength. “They’re barely intelligent-”

Rasha slammed her hoof onto his leg. She missed slightly and ran her hoof along his calk, peeling the skin and crushing the flesh underneath. The scream pierced Anton’s ears, so loud that his eyes winced.

“I’m not smart.” Rasha stepped back. “But I’m smart enough not to do something that stupid.”

Anton sighed and healed the man’s wounds. He gasped as the skin and flesh healed itself, not completely but enough so that he wouldn’t bleed.

“The map.” Anton summoned a Fire Bomb. “Unless you need further convincing?”

While the Beast-kin had only scared him the threat of being burned alive awoke a primal fear, the simple and all-consuming fear of being burned alive. Anton felt that Cetina was not happy but it was necessary.

“W-Which ones do you want to know?”

“All of them.” Anton tapped the large and rough map of Seocuria. “Bases, patrol routes and estimated times. And don’t think about lying or trying to mislead us.” Anton withdrew the flame. “I’ll be asking a few questions when you’re done.”

The captain weakly nodded, sweat poured from his body soaking his pants and even the dirt beneath his feet, as he began to draw. Anton silently told Rasha to keep watch while he walked to the others.

Verona frowned as he approached, waiting until he was very close before speaking. “Why aren’t you just using that truth power of yours? Surely it will work. Seocurian’s aren’t immune to magic.”

“I might not know what questions to ask,” Anton said. “He might just reveal something important. Like the location of someone or something very important. Some influential lord or slave owner that we can kill to throw confusion in their ranks. Seocuria isn’t a unified country like...Everyone, barring the Deweth Clansmen.”

“The nobles only work together for profit,” Kal said softly. “And it’s cheaper to work together than to fight. But...But a small family fell just before I left Seocuria. There was some chaos after that.”

“Imagine what would happen if they thought it was assassination?” Anton smiled. “Then they’ll be at each other’s throats and we won’t have to raise a finger. A common tactic.”

“Let your enemies fight amongst themselves?” Cetina raised a brow. “Have you done that often?”

“Not that often.” Anton turned back to the captive Seocurian Captain. “But succeeding is what matters most, fighting a glorious battle only to lose doesn’t interest me.”

Rasha slammed the far end of the table with the butt of her halberd. “Don’t stop!”

“I...I’ve broken the charcoal.” The Captain winced.

“Don’t take your eye off him,” Anton yelled.

Rasha snapped her eyes to the Captain and barred her teeth. The Captain slunk lower, his whole body had tensed in readiness to jump, to try and ram the broken end of the charcoal into Rasha’s eye or neck.

“Do you want to be burned?” Anton asked. “Or do you want me to have your arms broken and continue to draw? Or do you want to try and escape? Rasha’s more than willing to throw you into the dirt. Like him.”

The Seocurian Lieutenant whimpered again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to move his broken limbs. Without magic, it would be impossible for him to live a normal life and that fact had well and truly sunken in.

“Okay...Just don’t hurt me.”

Rasha growled. “Draw then.”

The Captain meekly nodded and continued to draw. Anton watched in silence as he drew markers on the map. Worryingly there were many markers denoting fortresses with rough numbers of soldiers stationed there. When he began to draw lines across the map Rasha stopped him again.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“These are the patrol routes.” The captain looked like a puppy that had just soiled the carpet. “That’s what you wanted to know. Wasn’t it?”

“But why are there so many?” Anton frowned as he looked at the map. “Despite being a lowly Captain you seem to know quite a bit, even across the country.”

“Patrol routes are quite simple.” The Captain glanced at Rasha. “Seocuria...Doesn’t have issues with bandits, like the places you come from. But they still want to keep the soldiers ready, should something happen.”

“Like a Beast-kin rebellion?”

The Captain said nothing but his body turned completely rigid.

“Keep going,” Anton said softly. “Oh, what do you know about the ruling families of Seocuria?”

“A bit. But-”

“We can talk later. Keep drawing.”

The Captain glumly nodded and continued drawing.

“What about the others?” Verona whispered when Anton returned to her side. “The Dark Elves managed to get a lot, way more than I thought they would.”

“Not now,” Anton said softly. “Wait until he’s done.”

Verona pursed her lips. She, and the others, understood they had no chance to ransom back the Captain or the other soldiers, not without revealing everything about what they were doing. Anton pitied the captive Seocurians, did they know there was no way home and they were doing everything they could just to extend their lives by a few moments? He silently hoped he was never put in a similar position.

Eventually the Captain was finished. Rasha took the charcoal first, then passed the map to Anton. It made him quite concerned they were biting off more than they could handle. At least sixty large fortresses dotted the land, each holding thousands of soldiers. While the Captain did not specify their level of equipment Anton knew it would probably be better than theirs. Seocuria was not short of money.

“You’ve written days between these fortresses.” Anton pointed to some of the interconnecting lines. “Is that how often these patrols move?”

“They move on a very strict schedule.” The Captain said softly. “Since we don’t have issues with bandits and the very rarely escaped slave.”

He stared at Rasha. “How-”

Rasha growled and the man shut his mouth tight.

Anton moved behind the Captain, held his shoulder and chanted a truth prayer. The Captain, thankfully, did not lie about the troop movements and fortress locations, at least to his knowledge. He could hardly lie about something he did not know.

“Explain the noble families,” Anton said.

The Captain struggled but, like everyone else Anton had cast this magic upon, it was completely futile.

“Each noble family controls an area of Seocuria. Together they form a union, where they control everything within the Empire.”

“An Oligarchy.” Anton slowly nodded. “The Empire is just dressing to make it sound more impressive. Rasha? Could you get another map?”

Cetina passed another piece of paper to Rasha, who placed it on the table.

“Draw who controls which area.”

The Captain complied. Anton didn’t recognise the names but it would be a good start for future investigations.

“Who is the strongest family?” Anton asked, he still had his hand on the Captain’s shoulder. “Which...Oligarch is the strongest?”

“Rafiki Kinteh.” The captain pointed to a large area containing Danafra. “He has the most land and wealth, but not by much.” He pointed to the nearby territories. “Together they have more but no one has more than Rafiki.”

Anton looked at Kal. She had frozen completely solid, Verona held her hand but it did little. She weakly nodded. Anton had never met the man, Rafiki, but he hated him just for how he made Kal and even Marion mentally collapse at just his mention.

“Where does he live?”

The Captain pointed to a small city at the centre of his territory. “He has a fortress city here called Savepo. It’s more heavily defended than Danafra or anywhere else in Seocuria. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

“And most of his money? Is it in mines or does he just own a lot of business?”

“He owns a lot of Beast-kin.” The Captain winced. “And he sells the most trained Beast-kin to other families.”

“Those that would be considered true playthings?”

The Captain nodded. He wasn’t ashamed of what they were doing to sentient beings, only that his interrogators were deeply angry by the revelation.

“What about…” Anton paused. “There are supposedly some mines in the north where Benzonite and Tanzanite are mined in prodigious quantities. Prodigious for those crystals. Is that true?”

“It is.” The Captain weakly nodded. “They use Oni slaves to mine them. Toxic gases fill the mine, and the Oni’s can tolerate it more than the other Beast-kin.”

“More? Not completely?” Anton asked. “So they still die?”

“Yes.”

“Taking that out would greatly hurt their economy.” Anton mused. “Is there anything else that we need to be aware of? Something that would be very useful to know in our quest to free more Beast-kin?”

The Captain no longer struggled against the magic. “Two of the families in the north hate each other. They fight over the mines constantly. There hasn’t been much fighting but the situation is very tense.”

“And the other families?”

“They keep to themselves, except when they have to work together for business.”

“Okay...Hang on.” Anton hesitated. “Are there any Seocurians that disagree with how the Beast-kin are treated?”

“There were once families that disagreed.” The Captain almost smiled, like he was about to win a tiny victory. “But they’re dead.”

“I saw one in Danafra that looked very unhappy with how the Beast-kin were treated.” Anton shrugged. “How they were executed. So, do you know anyone that would know someone?”

“The Lord Mayor of Danafra might know someone. If there are any remnants they would know.”

“Perhaps a good place to start. Kidnapping the mayor would throw confusion into Seocuria’s ranks. Thank you for your cooperation.” Anton relinquished his hold. “Rasha, Cetina? Send him back with the others.”

The Captain barely resisted as he was lifted from his seat by Rasha, with just her hand underneath his arm, while Cetina followed closely behind with her sword drawn. Rasha nodded to the lieutenant and took him away as well.

“We’re going to get that bastard,” Anton said as Verona continued to gently massage Kal’s hand. “Don’t you ever think that we won’t.”

Kal removed her mask. She wasn’t entirely shaken but he could tell that she wasn’t well. He removed his glove and held her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb across her skin. She pushed her head into his hand as she took a deep sigh.

“Just hearing his name makes me so scared and angry.” Kal drew one of her old daggers, one of the two she had when she first arrived at Atros. “I...I never did tell you who these are for, have I?”

“No.” Anton gently took one. “I always thought you kept them because you wanted as many weapons as you could.”

“That is a part of it.” Kal took the knife back, running her gloved hand over the chipped and rusted edge. “But I have every intention of driving this into my father’s heart, while he’s still alive. That man deserves nothing less.”

“Seems that he’d be getting off a little too easy.” Anton murmured. Verona silently agreed.

Kal shrugged. “I’m not a complete monster. I just want to see and know that he is dead. Then his name won’t frighten me.”

Anton slowly nodded and returned to the two maps left on the table. “This will be a terrific boon for us going forward. We’ll know where we can safely hit and places to avoid.”

“Shame he couldn’t tell us where the plantations are.” Verona inspected the map denoting the relative powers of the Oligarchy families. “That would be useful.”

“They’re everywhere,” Kal said softly. “Just head to an area where there aren’t many patrols and find one.”

“Do you think any Beast-kin would be willing to go back?” Anton asked.

“As spies?” Verona threw Kal a sideways glance. “After living in Atros for a while I’m certain they’re not going to go back, even if it’s for pretend.”

“It’ll be very suspicious that there are a bunch of Graterians travelling through the country, stopping in every place that gets hit.” Anton gently rubbed his cheek. “We all stand out compared to the Seocurians.”

“We should see if any of those refugees from Jaka want to help.” Verona shrugged. “They won’t draw as much attention as me...Kal? You said the Seocurians and the Clansmen trade?”

“They do. Near their border.”

Verona clicked her tongue. “Maybe there I might not be as suspicious.” She frowned. “Then again, they might wonder what a Silver Eagle Clanswoman, or whatever clan I’m descended from, is heading away from the mountains with all of you.”

“Maybe some Dark Elves…” Anton trailed off as Cetina and Rasha returned. “How are they?”

“Terrified,” Cetina replied. “First they get ambushed by the Dark Elves when they think they’re going to help control a fire. Then they find themselves in a strange city full of freed Beast-kin.”

“Not well.” Rasha laughed. “But the Seocurians started it.”

“The Empire is what’s wrong,” Anton said softly. “Not the people. The refugees we have aren’t from the empire.”

“I…” Rasha cast her eyes down. “It is a little hard.”

“Is there anything else we else need from the prisoners?” Anton asked. “We have the locations of their forces and a rough idea of the political landscape, who to hit so it looks like it’s an internal problem rather than us.”

“I can’t think of anything.” Verona shrugged. “They’re just soldiers, not political leaders.”

“Unlike the Mist Walker Elders,” Kal said. “We don’t have any reason to keep them anymore. And it will be a long time before we can ransom them, or send them back.”

“If they do return they’ll tell the Seocurian Empire everything they know.” Anton sighed. “I know I would. How else are they going to explain why they disappeared?”

Rasha’s red brows furrowed. She gripped her halberd tight as her right hoof ground lightly. “You don’t want me to…”

Anton wrapped the maps up tight. “If I need something like that done I’ll just outright say it. I won’t just hint at it because I don’t have the strength to order someone’s death. Like the words would taint my mouth.”

Rasha breathed a little easier. “I would still do it if you asked me to. Even now.”

“I do feel a little sorry for them.” Verona sighed. “They’re ever going to see their homes and families again. Are they?”

Anton glumly nodded. “We need to be utterly ruthless in dealing with the Seocurian Empire. Utterly ruthless. They won’t grant us any shred of mercy.” Anton nodded to Kal and Rasha. “If they even think we’re freeing Beast-kin they’ll send their armies here to crush us. Even if they have to cross the sea and half of the old Kar Kingdom.”

Kal sighed. “If they figure out that we’re using those portals…”

“The Dark Elves covered our tracks well.” Anton took a deep breath. “But I’m sure the Seocurians will eventually figure it out. You can’t just disappear hundreds of people without using magic. I fear it’s going to get very difficult very quickly.”

Anton sighed. “It would be great if we didn’t have to fight like this, where we could work together…” Kal frowned lightly. “But if that was the case then the Beast-kin wouldn’t have been exterminated or driven into slavery.”

“True.”

“Anyway, we need to return to Seocuria,” Anton said. “We can’t just leave the portal there with the Green Moon Dark Elves standing guard. I don’t need to use the truth power to tell me that they'd prefer to come home. Until we sort something out we’re going to need to keep some Dark Elves there. They won’t be doing much, just sitting around and keeping hidden. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Maybe the first mission for prospective warriors?”

“So do we keep them?” Verona asked as she tapped her clay pots. “Those old Elves were quite an issue. What about fifty men, in their prime, all wanting nothing more than to escape.”

The room fell silent.

“I’ll handle it.” Verona squeezed his hand. “Let me do it this time.”

Anton gave a curt nod. They left the building, next to their makeshift prison and approached the attentive guards. Verona’s body glowed, she took a deep breath and ordered the guards to open the door. Just like last time they backed away silently, fully aware of what was about to happen. The Seocurian soldiers cried out but a single shriek before being silenced forever. Verona returned, her face slightly annoyed. While she had killed many people before it was very rarely in cold blood.

Verona scratched her head as the glow faded from her body. “That…That doesn’t feel so good. I just feel kind of…”

“Empty?”

Verona glumly nodded. “I think I’m going to need a little drink after that.”

“I think it’s been enough for all of us. Tomorrow Mezot’s getting her promotion, so I want to be ready for that. It might not be as violent as this but…”

“She might need some encouragement.” Verona winked. Her normal playful expression vanished. “Ugh. I don’t feel playful at all. Can we just get something to eat and go to bed?”

No one offered any objection as the guards began to remove the dead Seocurian soldiers. They whispered softly about the state of their wounds but Anton said nothing. There was little they could do for the Seocurian soldiers without jeopardising everything they were striving for. One day they would not need to resort to such brutal measures, but today was not that day.

Volume 05 - Chapter 10 - The First Principle Mage

Chapter 175:

The next day, late in the morning, Anton arrived in the Graterious Royal Academy. The portal, in Mezot’s spare room, was thankfully devoid of papers. Mezot, more likely Axia, had cleaned up the few papers that migrated into the room. Verona and Cetina stepped through a moment later. The too appeared lightly impressed that Mezot hadn’t filled the room with junk.

“Hello?” Anton said loudly. “Are you there, Mezot?”

No answer came back.

Anton stepped forward. Mezot’s study room was completely and utterly silent.

“Her thesis thing should be ready.” Anton mused. “She probably has-”

“Hello?” A tired and sleepy voice called back.

“Is that you, Axia?” Verona asked, hovering a hand over the blade on her hip.

“Yeah…Yeah, it’s me.” Slow footsteps thumped across the wooden floor, one dragging heavily across papers. “I…”

Axia emerged from one of the bedrooms, clearly only just woken up. Instead of her student’s robe, she wore something more appropriate; a simple buttoned shirt and long pants, the shirt’s buttons were fastened incorrectly and her pants down on one side. Alongside her dishevelled clothes, her face was too, her eyes were barely open, her short blonde hair stuck up one side where she had slept strangely.

“Oh. Hey.” Axia scratched her stomach while rubbing her eye with the back of her hand. “Mother…Mezot’s not here right now. She’s…”

Axia yawned, opening her jaw as far as it could possibly open.

“Did you just wake up?” Anton asked. Mezot’s rooms didn’t have many windows but some light came through. “It’s well past dawn. Way past breakfast.”

“Is it?” Axia continued scratching her stomach. “I had a late night. Mezot was working hard and it was pretty noisy.”

“Someone your age should have heaps of energy.” Verona approached and gently stroked her head. “You’re…How old are you?”

“Fourteen winters,” Axia said calmly. “I’ll be turning fifteen at the beginning of spring.”

“Then you should still have lots of energy.” Verona smiled. “That means Mezot had you when she was pretty young, doesn’t it?”

Axia said nothing and stared blankly at Verona.

“So where is your mother right now?” Anton asked.

“She should be teaching.” Axia’s sleepy face began to fade. Axia bowed deeply. “Thank you, thank you for helping her. Us. She’s been so much happier and lively since you arrived. She’s been speaking to me and on her own, not just reply to what I’ve said. Now she’s actually like…A mother.”

Axia raced forward and hugged Anton.

“She talks a lot about you.” Axia’s smile was eerily similar to Verona’s, in his mind the young girls' innocence evaporated in an instant. “All the time.”

“We did spend a fair bit of money on that Wyrm Heart,” Anton said nonchalantly.

“Not all of you…”

“Perhaps.” Anton ruffled her hair, much to her delight. “But how long will she be?”

Axia shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she would be back before she had to deliver her thesis but…I don’t know if she won’t get distracted. Not to mention those thugs…” Axia’s near devious smile, he presumed she was able to take some of Verona’s energy, returned. “You should probably go with her, just to make sure she’s safe.”

“I doubt those idiots would try something again.”

Axia pushed herself away, stifling another yawn. “Maybe. But I know she would be a lot calmer if you were there. You were, are, the only person that’s made her smile. In a long time.”

“That’s…A little sad. But we’ll come. That’s the reason we’re here after all.”

“So where is she?” Cetina leant against the doorframe. “We didn’t get much of a tour of the Royal Academy before we found you.”

“Those nasty bitches haven’t tried anything again, have they?” Verona asked.

Axia smirked, twirling once and returning to her room. “Nope! They even tried to get friendly with me. But I told them off, politely of course, so mother doesn’t get in trouble.”

“I bet they were fuming,” Anton said.

Axia laughed. “They were. Just…Just give me a moment and I’ll get dressed. Mother wouldn’t like me looking like this outside.”

Axia pushed the door close and the room fell silent. Anton noted the room was a little neater overall, a place had been created in the piles of books and papers for Mezot’s large staff, Anton didn’t know what Axia had, and overall more space. It was still a mess but far, far better than before.

He could hear some slight sounds coming from behind the door, grunts and huffs as Axia tried to fit into some clothes.

“Axia?” Anton called out, a light murmur from behind the door. “How did a Wyrm Heart help Mezot create a new spell?”

“I’m not sure. But…Damn thing…I know my room got really cold near the middle of the night.”

“She actually tried to use magic in the place where you live?” Verona scoffed. “If it went wrong it could kill you both.”

Axia laughed. “I’m not worried. Mother has never failed in creating any magic, of any kind. I don’t think she’s ever failed to create anything before. I wasn’t worried.”

“She must be extremely talented then,” Anton said. “But I suppose it’s difficult for most to see past…”

“It is.” The door opened. “But I know that mother is better than most of the mages here. I’m sure that’s why they don’t mind her staying as a teacher and not a Master.”

“That they’d show her up?” Anton asked, Verona sniggered at the thought.

Axia emerged, wearing the same clothes as when they had first met. Apart from straightening her hair, she appeared otherwise normal. He had no idea what the noise had been about before. They probably wore something underneath the robes, hers looked especially rough and would irritate the skin, but did it need to be so difficult to put on? Only Cetina had some difficulty in putting on her clothes, and that was due to her armour.

“I think so.” Axia’s smile beamed. “She’s probably as strong as the top five mages in the Academy. I know they’ll be angry if they see her as a Master. Able to sit at their tables, eat their food, join them in invitations in the Imperial Palace.”

“They court mages?” Verona raised a brow. “So they can get them to join their forces?”

Axia frowned, slightly confused. “Of…Of course. Many of the top mages are paid by the Imperial family, so their families don’t have to pay for all their equipment and materials. And go to war…”

Axia planted a finger on her lips. “It would be interesting to leave the capital. See beyond the outer walls. It’s been a long time since I’ve left.”

“It’s still dangerous outside.” Anton shrugged lightly. “The threats just present themselves differently. Bandits and marauders still stalk the land, maybe it’s just a little bit easier to tell who’s trying to take your stuff.”

“I still would like to see the world outside.” Axia smiled, smirking and leaning forward. “I’d like to see a farm…I know that sounds stupid but I’ve never seen one up close.”

“After your mother’s presentation we can show you something far more impressive than a simple grain farm. So can you lead us to your mother?” Anton asked. “At the very least I’d like to see how she’s doing now, improved, as you say.”

“I’d be happy to.” Axia grinned. “But maybe don’t let her know that you’re there. It might throw her off.”

---[]---

Anton, sitting at the very back of the lecture hall, gently rubbed his beard in a futile attempt to keep himself calm and not let his discomfort show through. If Mezot had improved, he did not doubt Axia’s sincere words, he didn’t want to know how she was before. To say that Mezot was a poor teacher was an understatement. He did not begrudge the students and even the other lecturers that struggled and simply left in exasperation.

Two dozen students, most in a state of boredom or a level of exasperation, sat near the front of the hall, not from a desire to learn but simply that they couldn’t hear any other way. Mezot, wearing her normal clothes with her staff resting against the wall, stood before a massive blackboard, a giant sheet of a rough black material upon which she wrote intricately detailed mathematical formula and expressions. Some of the sprawling writings were of significance, the students hurriedly copied them into books using a thin piece of charcoal or a thin dip pen. The paper itself was of poor quality, in a world where paper was still expensive students could ill afford to waste such a precious commodity.

“Was she always this quiet?” Verona asked.

“No.” Axia sighed softly. “She was much quieter before.”

Mezot stopped drawing the expression and began to speak, pointing to specific parts while continuing to face the board.

“I see what you mean…” Anton rubbed his chin. “Just because she’s good at magic doesn’t mean that she’s any good at explaining it.”

“Yeah.” Axia sighed again, slumping forward onto her desk, throwing her arms out. “But it is better.”

The lecture continued for another ten minutes, Anton had no idea what was actually being said, until a faint chime rang throughout the room. Anton traced the sound to a small black object near the side of the blackboard, probably some kind of Principle Magic based artefact. The Graterious Royal Academy was the perfect place for such artefacts to exist in abundance. The students began to stand up, only a few packed their material into small bags, while the others looked to the door. Mezot, again to Anton’s exasperation, continued speaking, too focused in her work and world, until the door loudly opened. Mezot fell silent, the chalk in her hand remained touching the board as a stream of maids and servants walked through, holding their heads high when they passed through the door, only when the students could see them. They collected the materials for their students without a word or eye contact before following their students out. The others quickly followed. It was at this point that Mezot stopped, completely still and staring at the door. A student, a young man, gave a quick bow and hurried after his fellows.

“You did great!” Axia yelled.

Mezot didn’t move, her attention fixated upon the door. Slowly she turned towards the source of the voice and smiled.

“Did I?” Mezot frowned lightly as she retrieved her staff. “I…I don’t know…”

“They stayed for the entire lecture,” Anton said. “If they weren’t doing that before, then surely this is an improvement. Right?”

Mezot said nothing, staring into his eyes. Slowly a redness crept over the very tips of her ears, fading as soon as it came.

“I-Indeed.” Mezot held her staff close. “Before they would just leave and I wouldn’t know…”

“Even with the chime thing?”

Mezot glumly nodded. “But today they did.”

“A massive improvement in just a few days.” Anton rose up. “But do they understand what you’ve drawn here? I don’t understand it, to me it looks like a series of scribbles and chalk circles.”

“Even though you could create that portal?” Axia asked.

“Yes.” Anton smiled at Mezot. “I’m sure your mother would be more than happy to explain the differences between the two.”

Mezot’s face grew elated, though unlike her previous energetic tirade she had the sense to just smile and nod. “I would like to study them. To actually understand and not just what’s written in the books.”

“Speaking of books.” Anton quickly glanced to the board. “Are you ready to deliver your thesis?”

Mezot’s hands gripped tight on the staff, her knuckles turning white.

“I-I have completed the magic but I’ve only tried it once.” Mezot pursed her lips. “And the Head Master asked me to deliver it before the middle of the day.”

“Right after this?” Verona scoffed. “Sounds like they still don’t want you to become a Master. Throwing all these little things in your way.”

“But that’s not going to stop you. Is it?” Anton asked.

Mezot nodded, determination building in her eyes. “No.”

Mezot nervously touched her nose. “If…If you’re free…Could you please come with me? Normally there are people, family, to watch and help. But I don’t have anyone other than Axia, so…”

“Of course they will,” Axia said happily, planting both her hands onto her hips. “They wouldn’t have come this all this way if they hadn’t.”

Anton nodded firmly. It wasn’t exactly true, but sometimes the truth wasn’t what someone needed to hear. Mezot actually held a smile as she took heart.

They quickly left the small lecture room and out into the Royal Academy’s grounds. Students walked about in a flurry, those with servant’s right behind, as they moved to and from classes. They treated Mezot a bit better than before, making some room for them, Anton hoped it wasn’t just that she was travelling in a group. When Mezot reached a particularly large building she stopped, a hand clasping tight on her chest.

“You’ll be fine.” Anton gently nudged her forward, receiving a worried look in return. “You’ve gone through this in your head a thousand times. Am I right?”

Mezot nodded. She didn’t ask he would know such a thing.

Well, we’ve all overthought things before. But for you it must be a nightmare to escape.

Mezot stepped forward and pushed the door open. A large auditorium lay inside. A dozen brightly dressed mages, with large and ornate Charms on their staves, waited in the centre, idly discussing something. Anton recognised the Head Master, some as those that travelled with him but most were unknown. Their robes were bright and well made, nothing like Mezot’s.

Probably should have bought better ones. A good first impression can make all the difference.

“Are you ready, Mezot?” The Head Master asked, without any change in his voice.

Mezot nodded. The Head Master almost smiled when he saw the determination in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how you receive your encouragement-”

Verona almost sniggered, her lip twitched but she kept herself well behaved.

“-But if you are able to deliver your magical thesis then you will be accepted as a Lecturer. Are you ready?”

“I am.” Mezot’s voice never wavered.

“Very well.” The Head Master snapped his fingers. “Then stand in the centre and deliver your thesis. Your friends must wait in the stands.”

Mezot wavered for the first time, and Anton did not blame her. The auditorium was very large, the stand would make her look and certainly feel tiny. Not to mention the judging eyes focusing entirely on her.

“You’ll do fine.” Anton held her shoulder. “Just take a deep breath and don’t rush it. Remember to speak loudly and keep your head up.”

Mezot stared into his eyes, her green eyes searching for something. She slowly nodded and moved to the centre.

“At the back.” Someone said as they approached the seats. It was an elderly man, not the Head Master, but clearly held himself in extremely high regard.

I’d like to just sit there, just to spite your old hide, but that would hurt Mezot’s chances. Petty revenge doesn’t serve our purposes right now.

Anton ushered Verona on, just as she was on the verge of giving a smart retort, and chose a space at the back. The Head Master gave them a glance, Anton was certain he almost smiled and turned back to Mezot.

“She’ll be fine,” Anton said to Axia, who was barely sitting out of nervousness. “You know she will.”

Axia said nothing but relaxed a little.

Verona folded her arms. “I hope she doesn’t crack.”

Mezot held her staff tight but she remained silent and still. None of the other mages were going to tell her to start, it was probably another part of the test, but Anton wasn’t going to wait. He stood up and motioned wildly for Mezot to start. She jumped, brushed down her shirt and began. Her voice was very soft, even though Anton was certain she was raising her voice, but the other mages could apparently hear.

“She’s-”

“She’s doing fine.” Anton cut Axia off. “The Head Master doesn’t seem like as much of an arse as we first thought. But we can’t distract her. It’s difficult enough for her.”

Mezot finished speaking, opened her hand and created the ice urchin. Anton heard many mutterings amongst the mages, even the Head Master appeared moderately impressed.

She didn’t fumble. Maybe she can get through this in one piece, so long as they don’t ask too many difficult questions. Or she falls into one of those explination trances. She doesn’t have Axia to keep her on track.

Mezot answered a number of questions before the Head Master stood up, raising his hand and silencing the other mages. Mezot dispelled the magic and gripped the staff even tighter.

“I am impressed.” The Head Master spoke normally, his voice echoed throughout the auditorium. Anton realised just how softly Mezot had spoken. “Mose people ignore water and ice magic, too difficult or not as impressive as fire, lightning or earth.”

A few of the other mages grumbled softly, their robes matched the colours of those areas of magic.

“Regardless, I am glad to see that you have improved. Not just this magic but in your teaching.” The Head Master patted her shoulder. “I heard they stayed for the entire lesson.”

Mezot’s lip trembled.

“I am not going to waste anymore of your time today. I hereby grant you a permanent position in the Royal Academy.”

He produced a small golden badge, a small circle with a snowflake etched into the centre and pinned it to the collar of her robes.

“Congratulations.”

None of the mages present said anything other than a few murmurs, but Mezot leapt up and cheered, so loud that Anton actually recoiled for a moment. Mezot looked up, tears ran down her face. She had finally achieved what only a few days ago seemed impossible. Anton clapped, so too did Verona and Cetina, as loudly as they could, causing the tears to flow in greater rivers. He never thought she could smile like that.

---[]---

Mezot had not said a word since receiving her promotion. She ensured the badge stood prominent on her chest but said nothing as they walked, she remained absolutely silent until they returned to her room. Mezot dropped the staff against the wall, the metal clanging loudly against the wall then the floor. Axia raced forward and held the staff, it was undamaged and glared worriedly at her mother. Mezot’s face broke into a brilliant smile.

“I did it!” She screamed at the top of her voice, throwing both hands into the air. “After all this time I did it!”

She danced, more bouncing her feet on the wooden floor before throwing herself at Anton.

“Thank you!” Mezot squeezed him tight. “Thank you! No one would ever helped me…”

Her normal, calm demeanour returned. She backed away, her face gave no indication of what had just transpired. Verona and Axia were desperately holding back smiles while Cetina looked on blankly, with a slight curl to her lips.

“It was our pleasure,” Anton said. “Do you have anything else planned for the day?”

“No.” Mezot took her staff from Axia’s hands, she apparently didn’t realise she nearly had damaged the precious item. “I might go to the library. Try to find some new books…Or read some old ones again. They calm me down…”

“I was thinking that, if you don’t have anything relating to teaching, that you come to our home.” Anton nodded to the portal in Mezot’s spare room. “We really need your help. And for more than just teaching Principle Magic.”

“Of course.” Mezot smiled faintly. “You helped me. So…So I should return it.”

We did also spend a small fortune on you, but that’s not a good thing to bring up right now.

Mezot held her staff tight as she and Axia moved to stand before the shimmering white portal. Axia, normally the braver of the two, held her mother’s hand tight. They had witnessed Anton pass through the portal safely before but now they were having second thoughts.

“So what’s this place supposed to be?” Axia asked. “Is…Is it some kind of special world? Existing inside the portal? Like a land on an island no one else can reach? The realm of the gods?”

“If you’re talking about some sort of pocket dimension, then no.” Anton moved to the edge of the portal. “We come from a very real place. Somewhere a lot closer than you’d think.”

“Really?”

“Really. In fact, if they knew we lived where we did there would be…Serious issues. The impending Graterious Civil war might be averted, since they could settle new lands and focus their attentions there. Or it could just set it off.”

Axia frowned at her mother, Mezot kept her face blank.

“Don’t forget about some of our special people…” Verona said lightly.

“Yes.” Anton held his hands together. “We don’t have just humans in our home. We also have Dwarves and Dark Elves.”

“I’ve never met a Dark Elf before,” Axia said softly, frowning lightly as she understood that there was more to be said. “I know what Dwarves look like…But you already know that…”

“And Beast-kin.”

Mezot’s eyes widened slightly. “I wondered why you asked me about that.”

Axia raised a brow.

“What do you know about them?” Verona asked.

Axia thought long and hard. “They’ve said a few things about them in our classes but not much. They live in Seocuria…Right?”

“Enslaved. They’re slaves.” Anton shrugged lightly. “But not all of them.”

“Okay…”

“So please don’t freak out. One of the people with the highest amount of mana in our city is a Beast-kin. Well…Yes. She’s a Beast-kin, but she might pass for a human.”

“Her upper half certainly,” Cetina added.

Now Mezot looked confused alongside her daughter.

“Talking around the problem is only going to make you more confused and draw conclusions that aren’t true. And the best solution to that is to just show you.” Anton ushered them forward and onto the portal. “Just try and keep breathing when you go through. It’s a little hard on your head the first time.”

“I trust you…” Mezot hesitantly stepped forward. “You did give me a Wyrm Heart when no one…”

Still don’t know what that was supposed to have done, how it could have helped you…

“You’ll be fine.”

Mezot stepped through the portal first, still holding onto her daughter’s hand. When she completely passed over the stones her body disappeared in a flash of white light, leaving Axia behind. She hesitated, scrunching her face, and leapt through. Both feet were clear of the portal when she flashed through, Anton hoped she would be okay. At the very least the portal remained functioning.

"Is it just Kal waiting on the other side?" Verona asked.

"Her and the Dark Elf twins," Anton replied. "I thought it would be good to have them there rather than someone of our more exotic citizens."

"They essentially look like humans." Cetina approached the portal. "Just longer ears."

"Same with Kal." Verona frowned lightly. "Except her eyes. And ears. And teeth. And tail. And her arms and legs...Everything else is the same. So not too different, right?"

Anton smiled before stepping through. The moment the white flash receded he heard speaking alongside some light groaning. Kal, wearing her mask and full equipment, gently directed Mezot and Axia out of the small portal room to some chairs in the larger section of the portal building. As it was their first time they had suffered greatly. Calo and Sheso stood either side of Kal, wearing their silent black padded armour, a single sword hanging from their belts. Neither Mezot nor Axia had mentioned the presence of the Dark Elves. In fact, they weren’t speaking at all.

"Just breathe slowly," Anton said, cracking a faint smile watching the two scrunch their faces. "Take your time and your head will start to clear. Trust me. We’ve done this a lot."

Mezot obeyed but Axia struggled for a few more moments. Mezot, still holding her staff, placed it against the wall. As it began to slide away Sheso, with the grace afforded to all Dark Elves, lunged forward and caught it. Her eyes lay transfixed on the large gems and solid silver. Calo coughed and nodded to Anton, Sheso quickly placed the staff where it wouldn't fall down.

Verona and Cetina stepped through, with only a single hand to their temples.

"What is this?!" Axia pounded her temples. "What-This is awful! How do you do that so often?"

"You get used to it." Verona chuckled.

"Can't you make it better? Less mind splitting?" Axia finally relented when she saw her mother watching on with worry, though unable to verbally convey such thoughts. "I mean you made it in the first place. So can’t you make it better? Right?"

"There are limits to my abilities." Anton glanced at Mezot, who gently rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And this is one of them."

A minute later and both were completely fine. Kal moved to Anton's side and held his hand, he hadn't been gone for long but he did miss her touch.

"I did not know if you were lying when you spoke of the Dark Elves." Mezot studied the twins intently from her seat. "Such long ears but...Otherwise human."

"Maybe it's the other way around?" Calo offered, a playful smile on her face.

"Humans are the strange ones." Sheso ran a finger along the top of her ear. "At least the ones here are."

Sheso pointed to Anton. Her smile faded. "Not many people, let alone humans, would help thieves and pirates."

"What?" Axia titled her head.

"These two." Anton stood between the twins. "Are Calo and Sheso, Dark Elves of the Green Moon clan. They live here with us. Oh, and we're not on The Shadow Isles, just in case you were wondering."

"They don't live outside..." Mezot trailed off, lightly scratching her neck.

"A long story." Calo smiled warmly.

"I see..."

"Now, as I was saying before, we have Beastkin living amongst us." Anton returned to his previous position. "Free Beastkin, not slaves. So this information can never leave your lips."

Both nodded but still didn't quite understand.

"I'll take my mask off then."

Kal flicked her mask to the side, Mezot's eyes widened while Axia frowned and titled her head, not completely understanding what she was seeing.

"My name is Kal." Kal unbound her tail, allowing the monstrously long limb to uncoil and float freely in the air. "I'm a Half-Breed Feline Beastkin. And Anton's wife."

"But isn't..." Axia pointed to Verona.

"She is too." Anton smiled. "Things are a little complicated." Anton looked at Cetina. “A little more complicated than most, but I love them all the same.”

"Huh."

"You don't seem worried." Kal stepped forward. "A lot of humans are."

"I've never seen one before." Axia began. "I...I don't mean it like that. But...You are different. Different to the ones I’ve seen."

Axia shrugged. "And you helped us off that nasty portal thing so I'm sure you're fine."

Mezot locked eyes with Kal, her tail ceased flowing and began to bunch up behind her, a reflex when she was agitated or concerned. Mezot stood up and stopped barely an inch from Kal's face. Her attention fell on her ears, Kal glanced at Anton in a mixture of confusion and worry, before Mezot’s eyes moved to her hands. Mezot had no compulsions about holding Kal's glove bound hand, not that she was no longer skittish around others but an overwhelming curiosity had taken hold. Her eyes had changed the intense look when she was explaining magic.

"Mother?" Axia said softly. She shook her head and leant against the wall. "Every time. I thought she was better."

"Do..." Kal was slowly growing worried about Mezot's prodding and poking. "Do you want to see my hand?"

Mezot nodded.

"Well...Okay then." Kal sighed, glancing back to Anton. "If this gains Atros a Principle Mage then I’m willing to help."

Mezot waited patiently until the glove was off before inspecting Kal's hand. Her smaller white fingers tapped and wiggled Kal's own before turning it over and studying the pads and underside of her claws.

"Is this the Mage that you decided on?" Kal didn't look convinced in Mezot's potential. "Couldn't you have found one a little less like Verona? A little less strange?"

"I think Axia is closer to Verona than Mezot." Anton chuckled. "But she's just curious. An honest curiosity. But if you get her talking about your magic, she won't stop. She has quite a few interesting theories about magic. Something that I’m really interested hearing in full. But…"

Axia sighed and gently poked her mother's side. Mezot eventually acknowledged her daughter with a silent look, until Axia nodded to Kal then to Anton. Mezot's face drained of colour, sprung her hands from Kal's like they were burning and backed away.

"Please forgive me." Mezot's voice trembled slightly as she bowed her head. "I became lost again."

"Lost?" Kal asked.

Anton held Kal’s shoulder. “Mezot is going to be our Principle Magic teacher. She's a very powerful Ice and Water mage, and we're lucky to have her."

Mezot almost looked happy with rare praise heaped upon her.

"If you say so." Kal smiled. "Some of your decisions can seem strange but they've always worked out for the best. Somehow...But we do need a Principle Mage."

"Is this it?" Axia asked. “Just this room?”

"Of course not. There's so much more to see outside."

As they walked to the door Mezot stopped and stared at the roof. Her attention lay on the copious amounts of tar lining the underside of the wooden roof.

"Security," Anton said.

"How?" Mezot glanced once at Anton then back to the roof.

"More like insurance, actually. In case something goes wrong."

"Like what?"

"For someone that comes through that shouldn't." Anton smiled, nodding to the shimmering portal. Mezot slowly understood his meaning and hurriedly joined the others waiting at the door.

Calo and Sheso pulled the door open, the mighty wood and iron door required both of the slim women. Waves of light and noise washed in. Mezot and Axia were ushered out, both stopped but a few paces from the door. All the races of Atros; Human, Beastkin, Dark Elf and even a few Dwarves, walked just outside. The portal building had originally been constructed in a relatively quiet section of Atros but now it was much, much busier.

"What?" Axia blurted out. "They're-They're just walking around...I was told that they were slaves."

"We're not slaves anymore." Someone spoke from the side of the building. "And we never will be again."

If Mezot and Axia were shocked before they were doubly so now. Rasha, wearing her iron plate armour and Arachnid silk underlay, leant against the stone wall, resting the Halberd in the crook of her arm.

"Wha…" Axia’s lips trembled before her mouth fell open.

Mezot stared, legitimately dumbfounded by the presence of the Blue Minotaur.

"As I said, we have all sorts in Atros. Even half breed and mixed Beastkin. Even though," Anton winced slightly. "They aren't always that well-liked by their fellow Beastkin."

"How tall are you?" Axia asked, with a very soft voice.

Rasha pulled herself off the wall and stood next to Anton. She was easily another meter and a half taller, another quarter more if she truly tried.

"What's it like-"

"Huge." Mezot blurted out. Her eyes focused on one area on Rasha, one which armour could not adequately hide or diminish. She had lost her husband because she was lacking.

"I..." Rasha scratched the base of her horn. "I really can't help that. This is the way I was born. Just like everyone else is."

As Rasha lowered her arm her eye twitched, the corner of her lip curled up. A dart of pain, significant pain, shot through her and dissipated just as fast.

"Everything alright?" Anton asked.

Rasha smiled and nodded, remaining silent. Anton touched her arm and chanted a silent healing prayer. It consumed a sizeable amount of mana, not enough to be worrying, but clearly she was wounded in some fashion. Given her training and activities when she wasn’t acting as his bodyguard she’d probably pulled a muscle in her shoulder. Rasha gave a curt nod.

"Rasha's also one of my two bodyguards,” Anton continued. “Underneath Cetina’s instruction.”

Cetina made no motion, neither did Rasha. Neither had an issue with their respective positions.

“She’s incredibly strong, far stronger than she appears.” Anton looked Rasha up and down. “Unlikely as that may sound. You wouldn’t think of attacking either of us in some dark alley when she’s wielding a halberd. Right?”

"N-No." Axia stammered out.

Rasha frowned lightly. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. I might be a little too much for them, especially right away."

"Better that they see and meet you now," Anton said. "So they know that you, and all the Beast-kin, are perfectly nice people.”

Anton clapped his hands, pointing them at Mezot. “Now, we have a few people in Atros that have the potential to become Principle Mages. I haven’t had the chance to talk to all of them but I would like for you to meet them at the very least. That’s probably all we’re going to get done today but that’s fine. Where is Ulyaa right now? Climbing trees or spinning silk."

"I've just had lunch so she should be over the north.” Rasha pointed along the road leading northward. “She...uh, uses a spare warehouse near there to do it."

"Let’s just catch her after she’s done." Anton smiled. "I can’t imagine her face if we tried to talk while she’s working."

"Don't just barge in then." Kal shrugged, glancing at Verona. "Unlike someone I know."

"And I'm sure you're thanking me every day, somewhere in the bottom of your heart, that I did."

Axia, silently staring at Rasha, tore her eyes away but was still stunned by the sheer variety of people walking by. Perhaps it was how Anton called them, people, and not a long list of every race every time.

Calo and Sheso joined them as they walked through the streets of Atros. There were no market criers or hawkers, the streets were strangely silent in that regard but still bustled with life. Most of it construction, even Mezot and Axia could tell the city was growing at a truly extraordinary pace.

"Where is this city?" Mezot mustered up the courage to speak as the passed through the first gate. "It doesn't seem like Graterious.” Mezot looked to the sky. “I honestly don’t know. Are we in the Holy Kingsland?”

“No.” Anton smiled. “Currently we are in the Kar Kingdom.”

Mezot stopped dead, Rasha stepped to one side so she didn’t collide with her.

“How?!” Mezot looked around, her breathing grew rapid and her eyes frantic. “How are we in this place? Shouldn’t there be millions of monsters in this land?”

Axia held her mother’s hand until she was calm, though she herself wasn’t doing much better.

“Did they teach you about this in the Academy?”

Mezot nodded. “They said that the entire Kingdom had fallen in a few days to monsters, that thousands fled to Graterious and Qaiviel. That it was uninhabitable and dangerous just to venture anywhere near the border.”

“How…” Axia grumbled. “We…Right. You got the Wyrm Heart from Bebbezzar in under a day.”

Anton could only smile in return. Despite using the portals so frequently he didn’t understand exactly how they worked, or even how the most basic of his magic actually functioned.

Mezot and Axia remained at the centre of their small group, holding each other's hands as they observed those passing by. Much to their relief it was only a curious glance, maybe a faint snicker as their eyes flicked to Anton but otherwise they were ignored. Only one or two people made a comment about them, and only about their dress.

"What..." Mezot's back straightened, her resolved stiffened so she could speak. "What do you eat here? Do you have plantations or orchards?"

Mezot's body froze for a moment as she looked between Kal and Rasha. Neither gave any sign they were bothered, but Kal smiled faintly as she understood Mezot's concern.

"We have a pretty normal diet out here." Anton pointed to the weaving buildings. "Lots of fruits, vegetables and some meat. Mainly Razor Pig for meat as they're pretty easy to grow and there are a lot of them. But mainly fruits and vegetables."

Anton nodded back to Rasha. "There are some people that just can't eat meat, so we need to make sure we have enough variety."

Axia stopped, Cetina nearly ran into her. "Really?"

"Yep." Rasha slapped her forearms. "Not a single piece of meat and I'm this big and strong."

"Though you certainly eat enough to make up for it." Anton smiled, Verona laughed while Rasha's face reddened slightly.

"Not to be cruel to Rasha." Kal rolled her hand in the air. "But the portal stones mean that carrying food isn’t a problem anymore. We can just bring all the food we need without having to burden ourselves with extra weight, or have to shed it should we come under attack. Especially when we’re exploring south and east. There are not many places we can buy supplies out there."

"I'm sure Rasha loves the idea of not being our pack mule." Verona laughed, throwing the Minotaur a devilish grin. "Especially when most of it would be her own food."

Rasha grumbled, kicked at the stones with her hoof but didn't deny it as her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. Anton noticed Mezot and Axia watch their exchange in a measure of disbelief.

"I was telling the truth when I said that Atros is a little special." Anton slowed to drop between them. "The Beast-kin we have here are up for a little joke or two, just like us. The only thing that separates us is what we look like. Not what's inside."

"But..." Axia's gaze fell on Rasha's arms again.

"Rasha’s a gentle giant.” Anton smiled at her. “Except when she nearly broke free of her chains to attack me.”

“It…” Rasha sighed and shook her head. Verona and Kal chuckled while Cetina frowned.

Ulyaa emerged from the closest weaving building with a large bundle of white string in her arms. A fresh batch of her silk, judging by colour and shine. She looked up, quickly down at the silk, and almost looked like she wanted to run. However, her front spider leg made but a single step before she stopped.

“Hello!” Ulyaa took a deep breath before continuing. “How are you all?”

“Very good.” Verona rushed in close and poked the bundle of silk. “It’s still warm. Did you just make it?”

“I did.” Ulyaa patted her chest. “I’m actually a little tired now. I had to work quite hard to make this much.”

“Please don’t overdo it.” Anton frowned. “If you need a day off, just say so. And don’t force yourself to make as much as you can. Don’t let them bully you. Especially if it’s causing you distress or pain. I…I don’t understand how exactly it’s made inside of you but if you’re stressing yourself it won’t be of the same quality.”

Ulyaa nodded. “I know. But the seamstresses wanted as much as they can to finish off a set of gambeson for the guards. All of yours is still good, right?”

Anton raised his arm. “We’re wearing them. They’re pretty darn good. But I wanted to speak to you about something else.”

Ulyaa leant to one side, to look at their two new guests. Both Mezot and Axia said nothing, both stared at Ulyaa’s spider body. Compared to Kal and Rasha, and the other Beast-kin they had passed, Ulyaa could arguably be called the most monstrous.

“Hello.” Ulyaa waved weakly.

“What are you?” Axia shifted behind Anton.

Mezot didn’t share her daughters' concern and approached Ulyaa with the same enthusiasm she had for Kal. Ulyaa stood her ground, Mezot crouched and stared intently at her legs.

“Hello?” Ulyaa stepped back, Mezot closed the gap. “Who, who is this?”

“This is Mezot.” Anton gently pushed Axia forward. “And this is Axia, her daughter. The Principle Mages from Graterious that I’ve hired. They’re going to be the ones to teach us. Well, Mezot is.”

Mezot poked Ulyaa’s leg.

“But we might need both. Mezot has some special circumstances.”

Ulyaa raised a worried brow as Mezot continued to prod at her legs, gently raising one and plying at the joint underneath the short fur. Mezot’s attention quickly fell to the small claws forming Ulyaa’s feet, the claws she used to manipulate her thread, at least if she was still a wild creature building a nest.

“That’s a bit too much.” Ulyaa fended Mezot off. “Please? Please stop, strange woman.”

Anton and Axia coughed loudly. It slowly dawned upon Mezot how inappropriate she might be acting.

“I-I’m sorry.” Mezot retreated to her daughter, her head cast down while her ears flushed red.

“It’s…” Ulyaa looked to Anton.

“It’s fine,” Anton spoke softly. “Ulyaa, please forgive Mezot’s…Curiosity. She holds no malice but she can become overwhelmed by certain things. And it appears investigating Beast-kin is just one of those things.”

“I’ve never seen them so close,” Mezot mumbled. “Or so calm.”

Ulyaa scratched her leg. “I just wasn’t ready for something like that. It’s like being near Verona-”

Verona looked away, whistling innocently as Anton, Kal and Cetina threw derisive looks at the back of her silver haired head.

“-Or Eider.” Ulyaa chuckled. “As things turn colder she’s getting closer. I don’t think she can really help it. If she gets too cold she just can’t wake up.”

“We’ll work on that. But, since we have them here, I thought it would be a good idea to gather everyone that might become a Principle Mage.”

“Right…” Ulyaa bobbed the bundle of silk. “Let me get rid of this and then I’ll be ready. I’m a little curious about how this is going to actually going to work.”

Anton nodded, looking at Mezot. “As am I.”

---[]---

"This reminds me a lot of home," Anton spoke softly, his eyes following the small birds darting from tree to tree. "At least what I can remember."

The hard wooden chair was more than a little uncomfortable on his rear, doubly so with his bound tail. He shifted forward as Verona and Kal, sitting either side, shot him a look.

"I mean, this is almost identical to what I remember from Earth. Classrooms from when I was a boy."

Anton nodded to their seating arrangements. The classroom, such as it was, was being held in the south-west of Atros, in an area cordoned off for trees and other flowering foliage. Mezot stood at the front, silently psyching herself up for a brief lesson and introduction, to her side stood a large sheet of stone resting against a wall. As they didn't have a chalkboard, or anything similar, a piece of stone from the Earth Spines was chosen, for its dark colour and relatively smooth surface. Beside her sat Axia, slightly nervous for her mother but also intrigued by what Anton wanted to do.

Chairs, and people, radiated out from Mezot, everyone softly murmuring to one another as they top wondered what was happening. Anton was certain they knew, they had each been told why they were to gather, but none had any inkling of what it would actually entail.

Verona leant close to Anton. "That isn't going to cause you any problems?"

"The birds?" Rasha, sitting behind on a reinforced chair, followed the small creatures above. "Or is it the flowers?"

"Something else," Cetina replied softly. "But I think Anton likes them. Otherwise, he wouldn't have ordered these places built."

Kal stretched out her arms, the joints creaking and clacking alongside a pleasant moan escaping her lips. “Speaking of, we need to get our garden finished. We’re still threatening to do that but we just haven’t had the time. Over winter we might…” Kal’s brows furrowed. “But we might not be able to plant flowers or anything in winter, will we?”

Anton folded his arms. “Probably not. But we can get a few things done. Speaking off, it looks like it’s time to begin.”

The noise had dimmed to the faintest murmur, now mainly chairs groaning underneath shifting weight. Of the Beast-kin present, and there were a few, those with larger bodies sat along the edge so as to not impede others or themselves. Ulyaa sat behind Axia, keeping her legs tucked underneath her body and her special chair, more of a large stool. She continued to keep a watchful eye on Mezot, just in case the curious Graterian became curious once more.

Anton walked to Mezot. She appeared mentally prepared, at least as far as he could imagine her being, and smiled as he approached.

“I just want you to talk about the most basic parts of Principle Magic.” Anton began, Mezot listened intently. “I don’t know what they are but just the most basic of pieces. We don’t have any supplies or material. Nothing to write with so please just take it easy.”

“I understand.” Mezot bowed her head.

She turned to the piece of dark slate, gripped a piece of chalk, that Axia had for some reason, and breathed deeply.

If they hear this from me they might take Mezot’s words a little more seriously. If she delivers her teaching like before they’re going to think this is some sort of joke from me.

Anton loudly clapped his hands, stopping any hint of noise. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Not that you have that much of a choice.

“Atros needs every ounce of strength it can muster to not only defend itself but also to continue to grow. There will be times when Atros doesn’t have any of us, or our magic.”

I sound like I’m trying to recruit them into some sort of special program.

“And I’m sure that spears or bolts won’t be enough to combat every threat. The thirty people beside you have the most magical potential in all of Atros. I will not force you to become a Principle Mage, having a disgruntled Mage is only a detriment, but I ask that you do. If you do not wish to I will not hold it against you, but I will ask that you leave now. Should you wish to learn later you will be allowed, but only once.”

Several amongst the crowd frowned.

Anton hardened his face and posture. “We simply do not have the time or resources to deal with indecisive people. So, please make your choice.”

Anton had no idea if anyone was actually going to leave, or stay. Learning Magic would immediately put them in a higher social position, not that Anton or Atros had such a system, officially at least, but he presumed they knew it would be a long and difficult journey. So far no other Glyph Mages had emerged so this would be their only chance.

Several shifted in their seats but none rose. Mezot made a slight sound, her face was oddly happy and quite relieved.

First time the whole class stayed, right?

“This.” Anton placed his hands on Mezot’s shoulders, she didn’t jump but watched his face extremely closely, more so than before. “Is Mezot, a Graterian Principle Mage that has agreed to help us.”

A few glances were sent back at Verona and Kal.

“She’s a very powerful mage and we’re lucky to have her to teach us. So please listen closely to what she has to say, even if it doesn’t make much sense now.”

Hopefully that’ll cover any of the strangeness in Mezot’s teaching.

“So please, if you could, Mezot.”

Mezot nodded once as Anton stood to the side. However, the moment she realised everyone’s attention now lay on her she began to freeze, her hands gripped tight on the chalk. Axia coughed and gave a silent hand signal.

“Hello everyone.” Mezot bowed her head. “Since...Since this is your first time I shall start with the basics."

Mezot turned to the slate board and began to write.

"Principle magic is the manipulation of one's own mana, without another entity or catalyst, such as the Old Gods, to perform the necessary calculations-"

“What are you writing?” Ulyaa asked.

Mezot’s chalk stopped abruptly, snapping the end off and creating a large smudge on the slate.

"W-What?"

Ulyaa slowly lowered her hand. "I can't read." She glanced around the prospective students. "I don't think any of us can."

One shook his hand back and forth, signifying he could read a little but he was the only to do so.

Mezot's hand pushed down, creating an even larger blotch of chalk. She glanced at Axia and, if it could be described as such, glared at Anton.

"I..." Mezot flexed her fingers. "I was told about this, wasn't I?"

Anton winced slightly.

"Right." Mezot held her hands clasped in front of her chest. "I can do that."

Mezot turned to the stone slate. "I suppose that I should start with the letters first." Mezot looked at Anton. "Right?"

Anton nodded. "Yes. But don’t worry if it seems like everyone’s not getting it right away. This is just a very brief introduction after all.”

Mezot held the chalk against the slate. She took a deep breath, the tension left her body, and she began to explain, very simply and without condescension, what each letter was. The class listened intently, with the occasional glance at Anton, followed by a straightening of their backs and forcing themselves to listen. Anton returned to his seat as Axia threw him a smile and a small thumbs up.

As the class began listening to Mezot Anton returned to his seat.

"While Kal and I go see Sam, don't actually know how her pregnancy is going-"

"Better after the healing," Kal said softly.

"-Yes. But while we do that, Cetina, Rasha. Can you keep an eye on things here? Make sure Mezot's alright? I don't want her to have some sort of panic attack, not that I think she will."

Verona sniggered. "Better than her last class. At least everyone here is paying attention...Wait. Why was it Kal and I? Have you forgotten about me already?"

"You." Anton held Verona's shoulder. "Are going to stay here and learn. At the very least so you know what the letters look like."

"But-"

"You were going to learn that, right? During our spare time?"

Verona pouted cutely. "Not my fault that every time we stopped for the night you pushed us down and had your way with us."

Kal coughed while Cetina remained perfectly still. Rasha frowned a little despondently at her reaction, like she finally understood.

"But while I'm travelling with you I don't have to worry about that." Verona wormed her arm around his.

"There might be a time when you’re not. Or not with Kal.” Anton smiled, squeezing her in return. “What are you going to do then?”

Verona squirmed in her seat, Kal leant forward and raised her brow.

“I don’t wanna.” Verona pouted again. “It’s really boring too.”

“You’ll pick it up in no time.” Anton kissed her forehead. “Make sure she stays you two.”

“She won’t leave,” Cetina said calmly.

“Want to try it?”

Verona barely raised her rear from her seat, Cetina grabbed her leg and pulled her back down. Verona looked on in shock.

“You’re a lot stronger than I thought,” Verona said through gritted teeth. Quickly she relinquished her attempt to leave. “Fine. Make sure you tell Sam that I said hello.”

Anton kissed her forehead, Verona squirmed but accepted it all the same, as he and Kal left Mezot to begin, rather haphazardly, teaching the first generation of Atros’s Principle Mages. Anton knew he’d made the right choice, not that they had much of one, but if nothing else Mezot would be heartened to have a full and attentive class. And for her first day as a Master too.

Volume 05 - Chapter 11 - A Brief Wander

Chapter 176:

Anton and Kal walked silently through the busy streets of Atros. It was a different experience, one Anton has not had since Kal arrived at Atros. Without anyone else, especially Verona, everything was calm and peaceful. Anton reached over and wrapped his arm around Kal's. She threw him a look before pulling closer, wrapping her fingers through his.

"Feels very strange to walk with you like this." Anton squeezed Kal's hand as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Normally we'd have some little silver-haired munchkin jumping all over us."

"We would." Kal smiled. "But I don't dislike it."

"Me too." Anton kissed her temple, his lips brushed against the fur at the very edge of her ears.

"Don't do that." Kal playfully pushed him away, but never broke their hold. "It feels really weird when you do that."

"Imagine what it feels like when you three touch the base of my tail." Anton began to slow as they approached Jeff and Sam's house. "Especially all three of you."

Kal manoeuvred her tail, currently trailing high through the air behind her, to gently wrap around his neck. The end, with its three fans, with a four-pointed orange star lying at the centre, felt unbelievably soft and relaxing against his skin.

"Do you want me to do that with mine?" Anton teased.

Kal's skin crawled. "No. No, you've done that to me already and it was the most disturbing thing I've ever felt." Kal cutely stuck out her tongue. "Warm scales wrapping around my tail. Yours is a lot more flexible than mine. Especially the ends."

Anton ran his free hand along Kal's tail to the base, gently massaging the area. “It was only once."

Kal spun to face him. "And that was once too many." She kissed him lightly as they stepped onto the porch. "I hope we can get you back to normal one day." Kal's smiled mimicked Verona's. "I want to grab that butt and straddle you from behind without that tail getting in the way."

Before Anton could respond Kal knocked on the door, her devious smile had already evaporated and her usual calm and collected demeanour returned.

"Coming!" A woman yelled from inside.

I'll get you for that later.

The door opened. Sam squinted her eyes.

"Hello!" Sam pushed the door open and brought both into a hug. "How are both of you? Haven't seen either of you in a little while."

"We have been busy." Anton patted her back, Kal smiled weakly and did the same. "But I thought we should stop by now that we've actually got a minute free."

"You do need to slow down sometimes." Sam stepped back, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "Otherwise you’re just going to burn away or just fall apart."

Sam rested her other hand on her hip, accentuating her swollen stomach as she shifted her weight.

"So how is it going?" Kal pointed to her stomach. "Any problems? Not...Not that I know too much of what's happening."

Sam laughed. "You should. You really should. Getting up five times a night isn't great, but I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Kal smiled. "I haven't actually felt any big changes yet. But I'm looking forward to it."

"You won't." Sam chuckled. "But come in, please. Can't have you two standing there all day in the cold. Besides, I'm not just sitting down, waiting for my baby to be born."

"Nothing too strenuous I hope," Anton said as they were led inside. "Nothing that would put a strain on you or the baby."

"Nothing of the sort." Sam led them to the rear of the house, to some kind of workshop. "But you and Verona will have to stop travelling with him soon. Right? Then it'll just be that Cetina woman." Sam smiled as they took a seat near a cluttered table, letting out a great sigh as the weight was lifted from her legs. "From what I heard from Verona that might be an issue."

"Heard? Or forced out?"

Sam nodded to two chairs on the far side. On them lay dozens of old arrows in needing of feathering and rounded stones for their slings, not that Atros used such weapons anymore, not when they had a near limitless supply of arrows and bolts. They were still handy to keep around.

"A bit of both." Sam waited until they were seated next to her. "So this Cetina woman. Has Anton or Verona got their claws into him?"

For the briefest instant, Anton thought she referred to his clawed feet. The next moment he understood, he hoped it hadn't shown through.

"Anton has." Kal smiled, laying her tail on his lap. "But it's all fine, before you worry."

"Right..." Sam shrugged. "You're all adults, and I hope you know what you're doing." Sam held her chin. "Don't know much about the Beast-kin girls, but what about those blonde two that were following you? Speaking of, why isn't Verona here with you?"

"Those were Mezot and Axia. Mezot is the teacher we managed to get, so we can start people learning Principle magic."

Sam chuckled. "All a bit beyond me. I'll admit they were pretty cute, but I'm having enough trouble just with one child." Sam tenderly rubbed her stomach, careful for her fingers to not make a dent on her skin. "I'm so happy to just have mine. Jeff is so happy, every day he gives my stomach a rub before he leaves."

Kal stood up and knelt before Sam. "I'll give you another healing. Just to make sure."

"Sure." Sam lifted her shirt over her stomach. Sam had a relatively athletic body, but the recent weeks and months of relative idleness had reduced it somewhat. Nevertheless, her baby pushed outwards on her stomach, the faintest hints of stretch marks along the bottom of the large bulge.

"How far along are you?" Anton asked.

"Well, I think I fell pregnant sometime after you first left Atros. I think." Sam frowned lightly as Kal placed her hand room her stomach. "A little hard to say. I don't keep track of every night." She winked at Kal. "I can't count that high."

Kal almost smiled as she chanted the healing prayer. "Everything seems fine. Maybe a few aches and pains from the extra weight will be lessened but apart from that everything's fine."

Sam gently rubbed her stomach. "I really want this baby to be born. My first after so many..."

"Have you thought of a name?" Anton asked as Kal sat next to him.

"Not yet. I have a few idea's floating around. What about you, Kal? Anything that catches your eye?"

"Not yet. I don't know if I want a boy or a girl more." Kal shrugged. "I know it will come to me when the time is right."

A silence descended upon them. Despite his time in Atros the actual time he'd spent talking to Sam was rather limited. It wasn't that he disliked her, only that their experiences were vastly different.

"Do you stay here all day?" Anton asked. "Here. Fixing old arrows?"

Sam shrugged. "It's something to do. Better than just sleeping all day. But I do get out, have a good walk around the city. Keeps my lungs and head clear."

"Seems a bit dusty though." Anton mused.

"It is." Sam slapped her thighs. "Not right to just sit here with these old things when there's still so much light out there. I think I might just sit outside in the sun, what little heat it gives nowadays."

"We can always buy more bolts and arrows," Anton said. "Not that maintaining our weapons isn't important. I hardly want to assign it to pregnant women." Anton shrugged. "But if it keeps you out of trouble then who am I to say that it's wrong and try and stop it? But I don't think we’ll need the stones anymore."

"Probably a good idea to keep them," Kal said softly. "Silent weapons. And it's difficult to run out stones, especially if Atros is under siege."

"Actually Jeff had an idea for them." With a great grunt, Sam lifted herself up, retrieved a sling stone, and sat back down. "He wants to know if you, Kal, can do that thing that you've done with your arrows, but with these."

"I'm sure I could." Kal slowly nodded. "But...No. I'm sure I could do it. I couldn't make that many every day but there's no reason I couldn't."

We could make grenades with the powder too. At the very least big bombs. Those will definitely be a surprise. And so would those stones. Especially if an enemy thought we were so desperate we had resorted to slings.

"Might be a little dangerous to keep them in one place..." Anton held his tongue.

Probably safer than the grenades, actually. But only two people in Atros could make them and very slowly at that. But grenades could be made on an industrial scale.

"We'll see what we can do. But we are making more arrows and bolts. The Dark Elves are very good woodworkers, especially the Green Moon. It's almost like they all know how to craft their own weapons. I suppose, being so poor, they had to become self-sufficient." Anton shrugged. "The Dwarves are busy enough without having to worry about that stuff."

Sam sniggered. "Some of those Dark Elves are very pretty. Even the men. I know a few women who wouldn't mind sharing a bed with one."

"I know they're quite shocked by some of us too." Sam raised a brow to Anton's words. "They're far slimmer than most humans or Beastkin. Especially compared to some that I know, personally. Ceccitol was one of the biggest Dark Elves that I saw."

Sam laughed. "They must be stunned seeing some of the people here. Ah. But, boys will be boys. Always being distracted by some pair of bouncing breasts, leading them astray."

Anton smiled. "A trait that we all share, I'm afraid."

Sam laughed again, slapping one leg and forcing herself up. Anton took her hand as she appeared to begin to sway.

"Thanks. I'm feeling unbalanced from all the extra weight. One of the reasons I like to sit down so much. Didn't you heal me, Kal?"

"I did. But it can't fix those issues. Well, I suppose I could stop you from becoming unbalanced again but I don't know what it could do to your child. It might do nothing..."

"I understand." Sam brushed down her front. "Magic is so convenient." She smiled at Anton. "Is it still strange to you? Magic and, well, all this?"

"It is." Anton entwined his fingers with Kal, and a warm smile curled up her lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

---[]---

Anton meandered through the Atros streets with Kal by his side once more. Her free Beast-kin hand was entwined with his along with her arm while her tail trailed behind like a snake swimming through the air. He wanted to play with it but Kal had already admonished him for trying in public. It was something for them in private.

“What…” Kal ran her free hand over his chest, pushing relatively hard with her claw so he felt it through his armour. “What do people normally do for dates on Earth?” Kal smiled. “I’m sure I’ve asked before but I want to hear what you’d do to impress a lady.”

“If it was someone like you I’d certainly fumble.” Anton kissed her temple. “Too nervous.”

Kal scoffed and playfully punched his side. “I’m being serious.”

Anton held her other hand. “Well, normally it’d be drinks or something to eat. Maybe a movie-”

“Pictures that move?” Kal leant forward and smiled. “Right?”

“Yep. That or, maybe just hang out somewhere. Sometimes you don’t need to go on expensive trips or splurge out on food or fancy jewellery. The person you are with is more important than some uppity restaurant.”

“And that’s why you waved cooked food in front of Verona?” Kal smirked. “Seemed to work.”

“Actually it was a kind of an issue.” Anton pulled Kal close. “There isn’t like that in Atros. We don’t have the time or resources for luxuries. I suppose most people bond while they’re working. I mean…Most of the time we’re working or-”

“Having sex.” Kal’s ears twitched.

“Guess that’s one form of recreation.” Anton smiled. “And why there are so many children on the way.”

“I-”

“Hello!”

A voice called out from behind. It wasn’t Verona, so he was safe from behind crashed into, nor was it anyone he’d left behind in the care of Mezot. The voice belonged to Eider, their resident Cobra. She ran towards them, a great smile on her face, a human face covered in small dark blue and purple snake scales. She wore extremely thick padded clothes, probably the most layers in all of Atros, and even with a thick woollen hood pulled tight against her own she still appeared to be cold.

“Thanks for getting me these clothes.” Eider showed her thick tail, wrapped tightly with cloth and wool. “I’d be stuck inside without them. Do you know where Ulyaa is? It’s lunch and I haven’t seen her. Irso’s…Having time off.”

Eider stuck out her long tongue and inadvertently caught a tiny snowflake. Anton laughed as she pulled a face, but he stopped when he noticed something different. Normally Eider had a special line of bright blue scales, running from her nose to the tip of her tail. Now they were a bright red.

“Your scales.” Anton tapped his nose. “They’ve changed colours. Does that mean you’re…Getting ready?”

Eider sighed. She patted the side of her head with her thick gloves. “Yeah. Some people have teased me about it. Humans don’t have this to worry about. It’s a lot more subtle, at least that’s what I’m told.”

“Tell us if you need help with anything,” Anton said. Eider nodded but didn’t ask for anything. “Ulyaa’s currently learning how to read. Alongside a number of other people.”

“Verona?”

Kal smirked. “She wasn’t very happy about it.”

“Ha! I’d like to have seen that.”

“So what can we help you with?” Anton asked. “Unless you just wanted to chat, which is perfectly fine.”

Eider kicked at the stone road. Normally, like many of the Beast-kin, Eider went barefoot. Today, given the decreasing temperature, she wore thick boots, though they reminded Anton of Kal’s cloth wrappings.

“I’ve been thinking about combat.” Eider straightened her back. “I was a little bit scared by the first fight.” Eider chuckled nervously as she scratched the edge of her hood. “Probably a bit early for me to try and fight straight away...But now I feel a lot more confident. I’m not worried about thinking I’m back in Seocuria. Well, not so much.”

“It is something that will never leave us,” Kal said. Eider silently agreed, however, something prevented her from speaking her mind.

“Shall we continue walking while we speak?” Anton offered. “I’ve found that it can help sometimes. Especially if I’m having trouble putting the right words together.”

“That’s a great idea.” As Eider smiled Anton received a good look at her thin teeth, the larger incisors that functioned as her fangs. It was not something that he would find normal for some time.

After but a few steps Eider had regained her confidence and continued to speak.

“I want to try fighting again.” Eider hesitated. “I know it sounds like I’m not taking it seriously. One moment I never want to do it again, the next I’m super eager-”

Anton reflexively wanted to speak but clamped his mouth shut. Eider wanted to express herself, even if it was not completely direct, and not one word should pass his lips until she was done.

“I think it would also help me convince the new Beast-kin to listen to me more easily.” Eider tugged on her shirt. “This looks better than what they have but it’s no different to what everyone else wears. Especially after we freed them from the plantation. I looked like I was still a slave and not free. The Beast-kin looked more to you, since you had Cetina and Rasha guarding you when they got here." Eider shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe they thought I was your slave. To trick them.”

“Someone that looks and dresses similar to them but doesn’t have any actual authority?” Anton offered. “Some sort of dancing puppet.”

Eider glumly nodded. “I sort of had that feeling.”

“We can change your attire,” Anton said. “Without you needing to go to war. You don’t need to hold a spear and spill blood for something like that…”

A thought flashed through Anton’s head.

“What?” Kal leant closer, scratching his neck with the claw on her index finger. “What were you just imagining?”

“Are you filling in for Verona now that she’s not here?” Anton teased.

Eider, walking on his other side, said nothing and raised a hairless brow.

“I just had an image of Eider standing at the head of an army, wearing our best armour and a cloak of Chirok and Rainbow Bird feathers. Quite...Quite an imposing figure.”

“Really?” Eider held a thick glove to her lips. “I don’t see it. But if Anton,” Eider waved to the nearby buildings. “Who thinks this will be the greatest city in the world says it, I’ll believe it.”

“You doubt Atros will work?”

“Never.” Eider’s smile faded. Her brows furrowed. “I-I don’t actually know what I just said. It will work. Atros will become a great city, I’m certain of it. Where humans and Beast-kin will live in peace...At the very least Beast-kin can live without fear of the whip.”

“That might be after our lifetimes,” Anton said softly. “There will be humans that dislike the idea of Beast-kin ruling over them and the reverse for a very long time. Multiple generations unless something truly dramatic occurs. Segregation is not the answer...But we’ll do our best.”

“Maybe..." Eider smiled nervously. "Maybe I should be somewhere at the rear of the battle. My eyesight is very good, so...”

“How strong are you?” Anton held her arm, Kal pulled close as Eider’s eyes widened. “Do you think you’re strong enough to draw a bow or load a crossbow?”

“Umm. With one of those latchy things.” Eider tried her best to mimic the action of reloading a crossbow. “I think I’ll be fine. Irso was talking about how Jonathan’s planning to make a whole bunch more of them. The Dwarves want them, for their newer warriors, and we’ll be able to have them as well.”

“That’s a good idea.” Anton nodded. “How about…” He snapped his fingers. “Can I trust you, Eider?”

“Umm…” Eider’s eyes flicked to Kal. Anton found it interesting that their iris’s were opposites. “Yes? I don’t have any reason to do something like betrayal.” Her hood grew larger, like she was an actual cobra trying to intimidate a foe. “Those things, informants, in Seocuria were the source of so much pain. Always having to look over your back because you could never trust anyone…”

Eider shook her head. “You can trust me, Anton.”

“What are you planning?” Kal asked softly.

A strong gust of icy wind blew through the streets of Atros, funnelled by the buildings. The people walking the streets shuddered and pulled their cloaks tighter. The Beast-kin with furs barely noticed, despite formerly living in a land that never saw a single snowflake, while those with reptilian features struggled and moved very slowly. Eider was no different. Anton offered his cloak and brought Eider underneath. She, again, threw Kal a look but Kal simply shrugged and pulled closer herself. Eider offered a gentle thanks as she moved underneath. Though she was wearing thick clothes Anton could tell that she was freezing. He placed his hand on the top of Eider’s head, she was freezing cold, far more so than just her being cold-blooded.

“Bloody hell.” Anton shook his head. “I’m surprised that you’re still moving.”

Kal dropped back and around, approaching Eider from her other side. She grumbled and threw her an angry look the moment her hands made contact with Eider’s skin.

“It’s not that bad.” Eider smiled. “Honest! I just slow down. My head does too...But my body first. There aren’t that many fires in Atros or places to keep warm for someone like me. And the smithy is far too loud. Not to mention Irso wouldn’t like me interfering with her business.”

“She’s an apprentice,” Anton said. “Is she just worried that you being there will distract her? Or do you plan on arguing with her?”

“With a Drakeling?” Eider scoffed, though she did not try and remove their warm hands. “You must be mad. No, I don’t want to interfere with her love life. When she found out we knew she almost ripped our heads off. She probably would have fought Rasha if she bullied her about it...I’m glad that she’s calmed down. Don’t want the ‘slab of meat’ trying to throw me through a wall or something.”

“Irso’s found someone to love?” Kal looked utterly shocked. “Not someone just to assault?”

“Drakelings do that?”

“No…” Eider’s eyes darted back and forth. “Not normally. They’re prideful Beast-kin but...If they take a liking to someone then they’re pretty aggressive about it. I don't think they understand what no means.”

“Thank the gods she didn’t sink her hooks into Anton.” Kal leant over Eider and grabbed Anton’s ear.

“Irso’s not a sharing woman.” Eider continued. “Definitely not. I’ve never known a Drakeling to share.”

“It’s not Jonathan, is it?” Anton’s heart dropped slightly at the thought. “He’s already got Lerato. And she doesn’t look like a woman to cross.”

“She’s the Seocurian woman with huge…” Eider held her chest. “Must be nice, for all of you. But it’s not him.” Eider smiled devilishly. “No, it’s Zac. That big bear man. He’s off humping Irso right now. Or…” Eider laughed. “Maybe it’s the other way around.”

“Wow.” Anton whistled. “That’s something I didn’t see coming. They seemed so hostile, well, not really hostile but they didn’t seem to get along when I last saw them.”

Eider shrugged. “Seems to be working for them. They aren’t hurting anyone or each other, so Marion says to let them be.”

“Marion knows?” Kal asked. Eider nodded happily. “Huh. I don’t remember her being that nosy.”

“Kind of my fault we even know.” Eider shrugged. “Jonathan wanted to know where she was going and was afraid of asking her...What were we talking about before? We just started talking about Irso and Zac having sex.”

“Cetina is the captain of my bodyguards.” Anton continued. “Rasha is also my bodyguard. But that’s it.”

“If you can convince Mezot to journey with you then you’ll have a powerful Principle Mage as well.” Kal jabbed his side. “And you’re forgetting myself and Verona. We aren’t weak. Far from it. And I know how to fight without magic.”

“Verona.” Eider mused. “Is...Is she normal?”

Anton laughed. “Absolutely not. But, that’s it. Jeff is handling the normal soldiers, but I’d like to have a personal force, a retinue, that is outside the control of the normal army.”

Kal and Eider shared a worried glance.

“Not that I distrust Jeff or any of his commanders, but I want a smaller force that I know will be loyal and obey my orders.” Anton smiled. “So I can act without disrupting our forces organization. And be equipped with the best weapons and armour that Atros can provide. Even some weapons that don’t exist in this world.”

Kal made a knowing smile. Eider was simply confused, she had no idea about the weapons Anton had the Dwarves tinkering on, nor of the weapons and designs that not even they had seen yet.

“Surely there’s someone better?” Eider tilted her head. “I’m just a simple Cobra. I don’t know if I could be a leader, or organise things. Like weapons and armour, tactics and strategy. I can’t even read?”

“Might want to send you to Mezot’s lessons then.” Anton mused. “But we can teach you all those things. We could hire someone from Bebbezzar to educate you, we’ll need to find someone that’ll work with us, maybe Cetina knows someone famous or that guild...But first I need someone with integrity and loyalty. Everything else can be worked on.”

“Well…”

Anton leant close. “And I’ll make sure you get your own heater during the winter.” Eider jumped, her lips curled up in delight. “Enough so that you could be warm while just wearing a simple-”

“I’ll do it.” Eider smiled.

“Was that honestly enough?” Kal chuckled.

Eider shrugged. “Maybe. But I do want to do something more than just helping with the harvest and taking the bark off of logs.” Eider looked to her gloved hands. “If it weren’t for my scales I’d just be harvesting food from the fields...Just like Seocuria.”

“Without the whips.” Kal mused.

“I’ll need you to explain it to me more.” Eider stopped and looked towards the centre of Atros. “They...They’re moving again.”

Eider pointed to the highest point of Atros, a small lookout built onto the rear of the Main Hall. From underneath the small roof Lightning Crows flew out. Their small dark forms glided silently through the air towards the south.

“More Goblins?” Anton mused. “They’re getting very close for winter.”

“They shouldn’t be moving.” Kal frowned lightly, holding her chin. “We destroyed their camp and they should have fled. And yet they’re even closer than before. It’s like…”

“Something’s driving them north.”

“Yeah.” Kal’s face darkened. “Surdon. You told me there were tens of thousands of Goblins there when you first arrived-”

“Arrived?” Eider asked softly.

“-But who knows how many there are now. That’s where the wooden wielding Goblins came from.”

“I’ll take the Chiroks and scout them with my magic. See what they’ve been up to.”

“Those big dogs?” Eider smiled. “They’re great to play with. Especially the little pups. They’re really cute.”

“They did see Luna as food.” Kal sighed. “I hope she’s doing alright.”

They quickly moved through the snow littered streets, following the faintly glowing Lightning Crows flying through the sky. The few guards standing watch on the inner walls barely noticed their passing, young recruits and older guards more content with napping or idly chatting. If an enemy reached this far in there was probably little they could do to stop them. The faint echoes of lightning bolts echoed over the walls as they neared the most southern completed wall. They ran up the steps and the guards stepped out of their way. Anton saw that several metal braziers had been installed which the guards congregated around, the only places without any snow nearby. Though the guards were still covered in snow their weapons were held tight, their crossbows rested against the wall with bolts ready to be loaded, resting in position.

“Where are they coming from?” Anton asked.

A soldier pointed to the south. Lightning continued to rain down upon a large horde of Green and Yellow Goblins trudging through the snow. Those working in the fields and small plantations moved to the safety of the walls with all the concern of a stubborn mule being herded to greener pastures. Most were chatting and laughing, barely a glance back to the Goblins behind them.

“Those crows are fighting at their maximum range but everyone’s just so calm about it.” Kal sighed. “How quickly they’ve forgotten how terrible those creatures are.”

“Goblins weren’t an issue in Seocuria,” Eider grumbled. She moved close to the brazier, gently pushing the guards to one side. “Probably the only good thing about that place.”

The Goblins screeched and raged against the Lightning Crows. They tried to fight back, throwing wooden javelins, arrows and even stones, but they could not reach the creatures flying so high above them.

“So where did they come from?” Anton asked aloud, looking to the soldiers. “Anyone know anything?”

“Dana and her riders should be returning soon.” A soldier pointed towards the Accursed Forest. “Ah, there they are.”

Near the forest a hundred horses rode at great speed, skirting around the scampering Goblin horde. The Goblins noticed and tried to attack but the Lightning Crows focused on the closest, pushing them back and giving the riders room.

“I never gave them that sort of order.” Anton mused. “Do they have the capacity to learn? I should ask Mezot if they can evolve and grow.”

The riders approached the city and pushed through the gates. Dana did not wait, dismounting her horse as it continued to move and ran up the stone stairs.

“Anton!” Dana was all but out of breath as she reached the top. “The Goblins are becoming more aggressive.” Dana looked to Kal. “Even though it is winter.”

“Something is driving them north.” Kal mused. “They’re wearing nothing. No one would move through the snow wearing so little.”

“We found a Lumber Mill beyond the camp you razed the other day.” Dana smiled as the Goblin began to scatter, still pummelled by the lightning bolts. “That’s where these Goblins are coming from. A pretty big place too.”

“They’re still acting very odd.” Kal mused. “Very odd.”

“I think it’s time for another assault.” Anton brushed the snow from the stone wall. “The Dwarves have already had their fun, so maybe it’s time for the Humans and Beast-kin to find out what combat’s really like. And this will be the perfect time. And it’ll be a good chance for Mezot to show off as well. We don’t know just how destructive her Ice and Water magic is.”

“You want our help?” Dana asked. “We’ve just finished our patrol, not that we can do much against these bigger groups.”

“I have a few ideas to fix that. Once the Dwarves get our weapons on the go.”

“Repeating crossbows?” Dana raised a brow. “I’ve been talking to some of the Dark Elves. Someone called Xiam makes them.”

“Far better.” Anton smiled. “Infinitely stronger. Eider? How do you feel about coming with us? At the rear of the force, of course.”

Eider slowly nodded. “I’ll do it. I might need some armour and something warm. I’ll show you how the...Um...Cobra retinue will fight!”

Eider seemed very excited, the other soldiers and guards were a little dubious and more than confused. Anton was curious about how the others would fare. There was no way to tell how one would fare against an actual foe, with smell and sight of blood and the terrible screams and wails ringing in your ears. Time would tell.

Volume 05 - Chapter 12 - The Cold Winds

Chapter 177:

Air whistled past Anton’s head, buffeting him about as the Chirok’s soared through the sky. The Chirok beat its mighty wings, propelling them even higher. A loud howl came from his side, something that should have been near impossible given their altitude. Another adult Chirok, the female and the mate of the Chirok that Anton currently rode, flew just behind, darting and weaving playfully through the air. Though the creature didn’t, or rather couldn’t speak, it was clear that it wanted to play as well.

“When we’re done.” Anton leant forward, the thick leather straps prevented him from going too far, as he scratched the beast’s thick neck. It gave no sign it cared for his affections but he was certain its tail tried to wag despite the wind constantly buffeting them both.

Anton pulled back lightly on the reins. The Chirok shot him a dirty look but obeyed nonetheless. They weren’t simply flying for the sheer pleasure of soaring above the clouds, not that it wasn’t exciting. Below Dana and her riders rode quickly across the open grassy plains. Except it wasn’t just grass anymore. Small patches, depressions, had filled with snow. Anton didn’t want to be flying when snow was actually falling around them, the wind chill alone was quite severe.

I wonder just how big this Lumber Mill is going to be. Going by what Dana said it’s going to be a bit more than just a rotting shack.

Anton had unimpeded sight for miles. Though beautiful it was undeniably haunting. What was once a Kingdom, filled with millions of people, was nothing more than an empty expanse. That in itself wasn’t true. Something had replaced humanity, a vile race of little grotesque creatures that infested every nook and cranny of this otherwise beautiful land.

“At least those White Ghlotsm are doing their job.”

Anton glanced to the west. He could not see the White Ghlotsm or its army but he knew it continued to fight, continue to grow despite the cold and the lethargy infecting the monsters. Perhaps the corruption kept them warm or merely forced them to continue moving. Anton cared not what the reason was, he had no desire to keep them as soldiers beyond an effective form of fodder.

The Chirok began to slow, the female flew past and circled around. Below Dana had stopped and tried to signal to them.

Might want to give them a second set of communication rings. Imagine how effective our army could be. And our defences, just from being able to issue and receive orders instantly. No wonder Cassius wants them. Would that be enough to turn the tide of the impending civil war? Maybe. Probably, if they can coordinate their armies well.

Anton followed Dana’s frantic gestures towards the forest. She had stopped a few miles from a series of large structures near the Accursed Forest. It was an odd conglomeration of buildings, far larger than the original barns of Atros. Only when Anton continued to look did he realize the forest had consumed many of the buildings, the light smattering of snow only made it more difficult to discern what was what amongst the thick forest. However, Anton couldn’t see any movement amongst the buildings.

“Let’s land near Dana.” Anton pulled back lightly on the reins.

The Chirok obeyed. As it couldn’t turn instantly it flew around in a circle, slowly descending with each pass. As they neared the ground Anton looked at the ruined buildings. The air shimmered above them. Heat. Quite a substantial amount of heat. Those areas had far less snow, some almost none. From his initial height the snow covering the trees obscured such an obvious sign of habitation.

Dana ordered the riders to move away as the Chiroks landed without regard for their presence. They pranced towards each other, completely ignoring Anton’s orders until they had shared a quick nuzzle. Anton glared at both, not that they seemed to mind, and slowly walked towards Dana.

“They don’t seem that tamed,” Dana said softly. She and the other riders kept their horses away from the mouths of the Chirok’s. Specifically their massive teeth, now pearly white from their better diet and tending. “They’re looking like starving wolves. Like my horses are their next meal.”

Anton gently stroked their necks. “They’re well fed. And I’m sure they understand they can’t eat anything they want. Though they have left the city a few times to hunt a few Razor Pigs.”

Dana gently shook her head. “If you say so. But I’m going to hold you responsible for any that get attacked. I'm going to be really mad if they actually eat one.”

“Certainly.” Anton tapped the Chirok’s neck with his feet. The beast grumbled but lowered its body to the ground, so Anton didn’t have to jump off. “So this is where they came from?”

“We tracked the survivors retreating to this place.” Dana began. “Though they didn’t make it far.”

She pointed to several small green and yellow lumps near the ruined buildings.

“I don’t see any arrows.” Anton glanced at Dana’s riders. “And you don’t have any slings either.”

“No. They were killed by those still inside the Lumber Mill. Mainly slings but also a few small javelins.”

“I can’t-”

“They’ve already recovered those,” Dana said curtly.

“I see.”

Anton studied the Lumber Mill. He counted twelve large buildings, perhaps another twenty hidden further inside the forest. Trees had started to sprout through the buildings, further obscuring the site.

“We missed this on the first exploration?” Anton asked.

Dana said nothing for a moment. “We were more concerned with discovering Surdon was crawling with Goblins.”

“And it still is.” Anton removed a small pack from the Chirok’s flank. “I don’t have enough of those White Ghlotsm to attack it yet.”

“Your what?”

Anton began setting up a portal. “Don’t worry about it.”

The moment he had finished Verona and Kal flashed through. They jumped from the portal and picked Anton up.

“It’s barely been a few minutes.” Anton quickly kissed their foreheads. “Are you missing me already?”

“Hardly.” Verona laughed. Kal threw her a look, Verona regretted her choice of words. “Maybe we did, and that’s why we needed to come through so fast.”

The portal flashed again, this time Mezot and Axia stepped through. Both quickly recovered, accepting a hand off the portal.

“It’s still awful!” Axia groaned.

Mezot said nothing but still rubbed her temple hard. She opened her eyes and gasped. “I’ve never seen a forest so large.”

“Not many in Boreana?” Anton asked. He chuckled, much to Mezot’s confusion, which for her was the faintest creasing of her brows. “I just remembered that you hadn’t left the Royal Academy in years. You probably don’t know what a forest looks like. Though you spent a lot of time in the library. A different kind of forest.”

Anton smiled but Mezot didn’t understand. He decided to let it go, and thankfully she did not press. He caught Axia sniggering just out of Mezot’s peripheries.

A loud noise, a Chirok’s sneeze caught their attention. Axia screamed, Mezot froze in terror upon looking at the Chiroks. For their part the Chiroks reacted to Axia’s scream, raising their heads, their ears pricking up along with the hair on their back. When they couldn’t see any nearby threats they slumped back down to the ground.

“What are those?” Axia held her staff tight, running to her mother. “They’re huge.”

“I…” Mezot moved to Anton for help, inadvertently dragging her daughter with her.

“These are Chiroks.” Anton approached the beasts. Mezot and Axia watched in stunned silence as Anton scratched their necks and behind their ears. It was like scratching a bear, not that Anton knew what that felt like. “Beasts we received from Fliodher. They’re not tamed, like Dana’s horses or a dog, but they won’t hurt us. Most creatures will become quite friendly when they’re being well fed and their children looked after.”

Axia frowned at Anton. “I wish you had told me about them before I saw them. I thought I was about to be eaten.” Axia’s frown turned into a glare. “Scaring me and my mother…Fucking…”

Mezot’s head snapped to her daughter. Axia’s eyes widened ever so slightly. She wasn’t supposed to know those words.

Anton clapped his hands. For a moment the Chiroks thought they were being called. When they realised he wasn’t they looked rather annoyed and sat down, pulling their large wings close to their bodies.

“This is the perfect place,” Anton said triumphantly.

“For?” Axia gave her temple a final slap. She kept a wary eye on the Chiroks.

“To see what our new Ice and Water Mage is truly capable of.”

“A demonstration?” Mezot asked, holding her staff close to her chest.

Anton nodded to the ruined Lumber Mill. “Goblins have established themselves inside of those ruins. And we don’t want them alive when winter ends, when they become active again. Especially since it’ll interfere with our own timber harvesting operations.” Mezot looked to the half-rotten buildings. “I don’t want our workers to be surprised by a Goblin leaping out of the shadows.”

“I haven’t seen a Goblin up close,” Axia said. “Not a real one.”

“There are many diagrams and drawings of them in the library,” Mezot said absentmindedly. Her eyes lost focus as she returned momentarily to her time perusing innumerable books and tomes.

Kal gently nodded. “I doubt they would allow Goblins to get close to the capital. But they were still prevalent in the countryside when I passed through. I doubt they’ve got rid of all of them. Seems like an impossible task.”

“I…” Axia smiled. “I wouldn’t know.”

Anton caught Mezot’s attention. “Can you do it? Just think of it as an empty building. A target to destroy for a test. I am very curious to see what an Ice Mage is capable of.”

Mezot’s hand touched the small badge on the collar of her shirt. “If it weren’t for you…” Mezot’s hand gripped tight. “What sort of magic do you want to see?”

“The biggest, most impressive magic you’ve got.” Anton smiled. Mezot’s body twitched. “Go wild and impress me.”

Mezot’s eyes flashed with excitement, magic was one of the few things that would get Mezot animated. She looked to the ruins.

“Do…Do you want the buildings still in one piece?” Mezot flashed an unsually devious smile. “If I use my most powerful magic there won’t be much left.”

“The buildings here are too far from Atros and in such a state that it would be easier just to tear them down and start again.” Anton looked back to Atros. He could only see the faint smoky trail rising into the air against the white snow-capped peak of Mount Aspire. “I don’t feel too comfortable trudging back with trees that far, never knowing when those little Goblins will strike.”

Dana shuffled uncomfortably. Anton’s immediate reaction was to apologise but refrained. She knew that it wasn’t on purpose and the less time they dwelled upon it the better.

“So?” Anton leant close to Mezot’s impressive staff. “What do you have in mind?”

Mezot smiled. “Ice Storm.”

Axia poked Anton’s side. “It’s like a huge shower of rain. Except its giant icicles.”

“That would be devastating.” Anton patted Axia’s head. “But I think this would also be a good opportunity to test the human and Beast-kin soldiers. See how they perform.”

“There might not be much left after Mezot’s attack.” Kal frowned lightly. “Not much for them to learn.”

“Maybe. But I doubt it’ll kill all of them.” Anton flashed Mezot a look. “One might survive, hidden underneath a beam or something.”

Mezot slowly nodded. “I understand. I don’t get many chances to use all of my magic. Especially the more complicated and mana intensive. But I need to get closer, I can't cast it so far away."

Anton still found it cute how she became animated by anything related to magic.

Anton took the first step. “By the way, how good are you two at physical exercise?”

“Why’s that?” Axia smirked, a devilish face reminiscent of Verona’s. “What are you planning to make us do?”

Anton pointed towards the ruined lumber mill. “Because we’re going that way on foot. And we’re not going to wait for you two to walk.”

Axia’s expression evaporated, replaced with a thinly veiled look of disbelief. “What?”

“I'm just joking.” Anton chuckled. “But we will be moving quickly.”

Axia’s face drained of any semblance joy. She sighed and gripped her small staff tight as Verona patted her shoulder and urged her forward.

---[]---

Mezot told them to stop once less than a kilometre stood before them and the Lumber Mill. Given their relatively slow speed, it gave them time to organize the soldiers for the cleanup operation. Cetina and Rasha now stood by him, along with two hundred human and Beat-kin soldiers. He spied Eider near the back with two large Beastkin either side. They were not thereby accident, Anton didn't want Eider to die on essentially a training mission. She and everyone else wore the best armour they could be reasonably be outfitted with; metal plate armour over a thick layer of gambeson, wielding iron-tipped spears with small wooden shields. Though they would be decidedly inferior to the weapons Anton wanted to create they were still leagues above the quality they had when Anton first arrived, doubly so against the near non-existent equipment the Goblins used.

Those Goblins using wooden armour are still out there. I doubt it was just one.

“Anton!” A voice cried out from behind. “Where do you want us?”

Calo hurriedly strode towards him with Sheso right behind. For this venture, they commanded a small force of Dark Elves, a little over fifty archers, but Anton knew they were far more dangerous than their small numbers indicated.

“Behind the main force,” Anton replied. Cetina made a glance back but kept her attention focused towards the rotten Lumber Mill. Rasha turned to face the twins but received a sharp reprimand from Cetina, she quickly kept her attention focused elsewhere.

“Not to attack?” Calo asked, stopping a meter before him.

“Just support,” Anton replied. “Just in case something goes wrong.”

“I presume it has something to do with the blonde Graterian women?” Sheso nodded to Mezot and Axia, standing a few meters ahead of Anton. “I haven’t seen them before.”

The twins smirked, leaning close to him. It reminded Anton of Verona when she was thinking up another of her plans, though the actual Verona was speaking with Mezot.

“How did you manage that?” Sheso chuckled.

“Same way I imagine he got these two.” Calo laughed, her eyes glancing between Cetina and Rasha.

To be fair it’s only one. But you two wouldn’t be laughing so much if you understood what your grandfather wants from you…Or maybe you already do and…Hmm. Something to ponder.

“Regardless,” Anton continued, noticing the glance Cetina and Rasha gave each other. “I want you two to remain at the rear, but ready to move forward at a moment’s notice. Oh, and make sure the Chirok’s don’t fly off for some reason.”

Anton nodded to the two large Chiroks, curled up next to each other on a small hill. Their eyes were closed but their ears pricked up, ready to hear anything that might sneak up on them. Dana and her riders waited nearby, they too were keeping an eye out but mainly towards the two potentially hungry carnivores.

“But I doubt they’re going to go far without their children.”

The twins grew rather nervous as the Chirok’s heads rose up and turned towards them. Though they knew they were friendly Anton completely understood their reservation about getting too friendly with a creature whose teeth were larger than their head.

“And them?” Calo pointed to the human and Beast-kin soldiers.

Jeff had sent a soldier, really a high ranking guard, to act as commander. Anton didn’t know him by name but had seen the man before. If Jeff trusted him then Anton would too.

“Cleaning things up. After Mezot’s used her biggest magic. We aren’t going to be hit by this, are we?”

Mezot turned to Anton, cutting Verona’s conversation dead, much to her annoyance. “No. We will be fine. I have used this magic before and I know how dangerous it can be.”

“Inside,” Axia added softly. “Inside a magically shielded building.”

Mezot nodded in confirmation, perhaps missing her daughter’s undertone. Thankfully neither pursued the issue.

“Is everyone ready?”

Everyone signalled they were indeed ready.

“Mezot? Show us the power of an Ice Mage.”

Mezot took a moment before she understood, just before her daughter jabbed her side, and stepped forward. Her nervousness disappeared, replaced with a calm professionalism.

“The cold winds, the blizzards that destroy nations.” Mezot’s charm began to glow bright, the crystals crackling with a white burst of magic. “Release that rage upon the Earth and break upon my enemy.”

Principle Magic sounds a bit like you’re asking spirits to do magic.

The bright light of her charm vanished. Verona opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut when a bight blueish light swallowed the lumber mill. The cracking and groaning of ice emanated from the light. Mezot smiled at Anton as the light slowly receded. Frosted ice, easily half a meter thick, covered the entire Lumber Mill and a large part of the surrounding landscape. Everything inside had been perfectly preserved, the grass blades literally frozen in place, the leaves and branches of the trees captured in mid-swing.

“Shit.” Verona murmured. “We’d never know something like that was even coming.”

“Is that what you were asking?” Mezot’s voice held nothing but an innocent tone, a child wanting to be praised.

Anton rubbed his chin. “How…How much mana did that cost you?”

“Not that much.” Mezot tapped the large metal charm. “Perhaps a twentieth. Maybe?”

The soldiers nearby almost scoffed at the innocent and flippant nature of what she’d just said. Anton was more stunned by just how much mana she had, or at least claimed to have.

“What was that?” Kal asked, asking the question many appeared to have.

“Flash Freeze.” Mezot’s excitement grew. “It instantly freezes everything around the location where I release the spell. Actually, if you are nearby, you’d feel a rush of hot air. It doesn’t work just by cooling the area but also throwing out the excess heat. A lot of Ice magic works the same way, if you want to make it really powerful without using a lot of mana and time.”

“And that would be you,” Anton said. “The most powerful Ice and Water Mage I've ever seen."

Mezot beamed with pride, even Axia looked rather impressed by her mother but neither appeared to fully understand Anton's words. Not that he had any ill intent.

“They don’t appreciate her talent.” Axia threw her nose up in a huff. “Well, at least they didn’t before. Not many chances to use the bigger magic.”

“I have others,” Mezot said, her face beaming with barely restrained excitement. Her hands gripped her staff tight as a foot tapped lightly in the smattering of snow. “Do you want to see them? I’ve only been able to use these once or twice, and inside a protective building.”

Anton nodded. “Go for it.”

Mezot grinned and began to chant again. This time it was far softer and rapidly spoken. The excitement of being let loose, all the restrictions tossed aside, for Mezot was considerable. Above the frozen Lumber Mill large icicles, easily larger than Rasha, emerged from the ether and slammed into the frozen structures and trees below, smashing apart the thick frosted ice first then obliterated what lay beneath. The rain of icicles did not cease until everything that had been frozen was little more than splinters. Mezot’s breathing was much harder when she stopped, her face flushed while her fingers shook.

“Are you alright?” Anton asked, holding her shoulder. “You look like you’ve overdone it.”

“Icicle Tempest.” Mezot smiled. She took a deep breath and tapped her staff on the ground. “But I used almost half of my magic.”

Anton looked to the ruined buildings and the partially destroyed forest. While his flame pillars would probably be more destructive there was no denying that her magic was incredibly powerful. Not to mention that after the initial volley there was little left standing. She clearly just wanted to go wild, if that was possible.

“Fantastic work.” Anton patted Mezot’s shoulder, her face turned flat. “I never doubted you but this is fantastic, but I didn’t think it would be this impressive.”

“How large did you expect it to be?” Mezot asked with genuine curiosity.

“Not that big.” Anton signalled to the waiting Human and Beast-kin soldiers. “Soldiers! We weren’t expecting the magic to be so destructive. Regardless, you are to advance on the Lumber Mill and make sure that everything is dead. Be careful of the ice, not just from the temperature but issues with slipping and having a fall. Always ensure your footing is secure. We have the Dark Elves for support but they are only going to help if the situation looks dire. So make sure you keep yourself safe first of all, just like in any battle. No one should die because they acted stupidly.”

The local leaders repeated the orders into shorter and more digestible chunks, though it followed the same basic instructions. The soldiers formed into small groups and advanced on the ruined Lumber Mills.

“We should back them up.” Anton waved their group forward. “If only for healing.”

---[]---

The soldiers moved hesitantly through the icy fields. For many this was their first battle beyond the safety of Atros’s walls, for the Beast-kin any battle at all. They held their weapons tight, some tight enough that some began to lose their strength, as they slowly walked over the ice. Most didn’t have anything significant in the way of footwear, most were just a wooden sole with wool or old leather forming the rest of the shoe. It was far from elegant but it was cheap and easy to produce. Some Beast-kin went barefoot, those of the species similar to Kal, but now they were on the Ice they appeared to be regretting their decision.

Anton did not venture too close, stopping at the edge of the frosted ice. He could see the groups slowly fan out throughout the wreckage in the search for survivors. Every so often a group would stop and point their weapons at something. Normally it was nothing more than a dead Goblin, frozen in ice and pummelled to death by the shower of giant icicles from above. Eider, still under the watchful eye of two large Beastkin, was performing surprisingly well. She led from the rear but ensured those she was travelling with avoided areas that were particularly dangerous.

Eider raised her hand and the group stopped. She blinkered hard, her head dipped slightly and pointed to a collapsed section of wood.

"There's heat coming from under that." She said loudly.

A human and Beastkin approached, levelling their spears at the wood, stopping a meter back. The Beastkin, an older canine, sniffed at the air and stopped his partner. He gently placed his spear underneath the wood and pried it up. Terrible screeches followed. A pair of Yellow and Green Goblins charged out with nothing more than a single piece of sharpened wood between them. The human thrust his spear into the Yellow's face and the Green behind. The Canine withdrew his spear, pinning the other Yellow but leaving him without a weapon. Instead of retrieving his spear the Canine used his shield as a bludgeon, killing the Green with a single strike and spattering blood and brains over the ice.

"They're not so tough." The Canine spoke through laboured breaths. His hands shook as he retrieved his spear.

"Nothing like Seocuria." He grumbled before ramming it through the surviving Yellow.

Eider ordered, gently of course, for the piece of wood to be completely overturned. Another three Greens lay in wait, young and heavily wounded by Mezot's magic. Without a word, they were killed and the group moved forward.

"This is all good practice," Cetina said softly. "Shame it can't be done without risk."

"True." Anton watched the groups continue to fan out. The more adventurous and daring were tempered by the small run-ins with pockets of Goblins that had survived. At first, Anton was in disbelief that anything could have survived such a calamitous event but he knew of disasters on Earth, far more destructive, and people had survived.

And these creatures are a stubborn lot.

"Mezot?" Anton found Mezot standing behind him. She held her staff tight and, judging by the slight indent on the ice at the base, a considerable amount of weight upon it. "While we wait for them to finish can you answer a few questions for me?"

"I will do my best." Mezot's grip hardened. "But...I don't know much outside of the Royal Academy."

"I wanted to ask you about magic anyway so that's perfect."

The fatigue left Mezot like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She stood taller and straighter, her face full of giddy delight.

Any hint of magic...

"Summoned creatures." Anton began. "What do you know about them? Specifically, yours, if you can summon Ice and Water creatures."

Mezot's smile widened. Before anyone could object she begar whispering a chant. Her charm glowed bright as a magical circle emerge a foot from the ground. Anton expected it to be a soft white, since that was the colour he associated with ice and snow, but it was a dark blue. Anton also remembered that Mezot did not specialize in just Ice magic.

A small whirlpool of water emerged from the floating disk, twisting and spinning until it settled into a vaguely humanoid form. It had no face or even legs, just a knot of swirling clear water, but it had vague arms that bulged at the end like closed fists. As the circle faded the water creatures head bobbed from side to side, looking over the edge at the frozen ground below. It attempted to move away but the circle vanished and it fell. It's body lost form as it smacked into the ground, a moment later it coalesced back into its humanoid form. Though it didn't have a face he was certain the creature was pouting.

"This is a Principle Water Sprite." Mezot proudly smiled at the form of water. "Only a level one, so it is not very powerful, but it can easily kill a person."

"Definitely one of those Goblins." Axia softly added.

"Please show me." Anton motioned to a nearby upright broken piece of wood. Before this day Anton never expected to see Icicles jutting out of a piece of wood.

"Certainly." Mezot looked at the Water Sprite. Without a word being spoken the creature darted towards the piece of wood. As it didn't have legs it moved by rotating its water, almost like a track. Tiny impurities were absorbed but didn't appear to hamper the Water Sprite even as it began to spread throughout its body. As the Water Sprite swung its fist a small blade of water erupted, the edge shimmered with a tiny film of foam despite the creature being made entirely of water. The water blade struck and cleaved the wood into two. As the Water Sprite stepped back it shuddered. Hundreds of splinters had invaded its body and were causing it some distress. The pieces swirled to where its mouth should lie and lazily ejected it from its body. The wet pieces splattered onto the icy ground, the Water Sprite looked happy and active once again.

"You didn’t speak a word,” Anton said softly. “You ordered the Water Sprite with just your thoughts?”

Mezot blinked once. A faint look of horror washed over her.

“Sorry.” Mezot bowed her head and held it low. “I became…” Mezot bit her lip. “You asked me what I knew about summoned creatures, not-”

Anton held Mezot’s shoulder. Only when she looked up did he speak.

“It’s alright.” Anton smiled. “Just breathe.” Mezot followed his words and calmed a little. “Now. What do you know about these creatures?”

The Water Sprite returned to Mezot’s side.

“Summoned creatures are not my speciality.” Mezot began, her face hardened somewhat, like a teacher dictating to her student. “But I know a little. Unlike normal magic, like a Fire Ball or Ice Storm, they persist. It is believed they are entities created and sustained entirely through magic. They have very little in the way of desire or understanding of pain, the summoned creatures do not scream when they are hurt, but the larger the creature becomes the more...understanding it can have.”

A group of soldiers shouted as another Goblin group tried to ambush them. They were repulsed with nothing more than ruffled nerves.

“The books on Glyph Magic state that some were so powerful that they required multiple people working in tandem.” Anton looked to the south. “And they were not particularly loyal. Unlike your little Water Sprite.”

Verona leant down and patted the head of Mezot’s Water Sprite. Its head twisted towards Verona but allowed her to touch it regardless. Verona seemed happy, but she raised a damp glove.

“I wonder if you throw enough sand at it it’ll go away.” Verona mused. “Or salt, or something.”

Mezot nodded. “I’ve witnessed a level one Fire creature thrown into a pool of water. It did not last long.”

“And Abominations?”

“And whatever that kid made?” Verona added. She frowned lightly at Axia. “Are you sure you want your daughter to practice something so dangerous? He didn’t seem like he was doing anything wrong and yet…”

“Axia knows what she is doing,” Mezot said proudly. “She would not do something so foolish….Oh. What those things are. Right.” Mezot coughed. “When-”

“Hang on a sec.” Anton raised his hand. Mezot looked worried that she had said something wrong, something that was becoming less endearing each time it occurred. “Do you have to ensure a series of rings spin around a central point?”

“Yes.” Mezot nodded. “For water magic the centre contains a small sphere, for Ice an octahedron. Should the rings touch each other or the centre it will result in an Abomination.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” The Chiroks, waiting on the small hill with Dana’s riders, raised their head and looked to the south. “But the Abominations?”

Mezot tapped the head of the Water Sprite. “They are very similar to a normal summon, but the failure, be it a caster being untrained or performing the magic incorrectly, creates an uncontrollable creature. It’s not evil or vindictive, at least initially like I’ve been told Goblins and other monsters are, but they simply have an uncontrollable desire for magic.”

“Their summoners magic.” Anton offered. “I remember reading that once they’ve killed their summoner they usually disappear.”

Mezot nodded. “Once they have lost the source of their magic they dissipate. If they have gathered enough and can find a new source of mana before they disappear, they can persist.”

“Unlike a bound summon.” Anton mused. “I-”

A whistle cut his thoughts. Dana waved frantically, the Chirok’s were standing up and facing to the south, their ears pricked up and their bodies perfectly still.

“What’s coming?” Anton asked.

Dana drove her horse towards him as fast as it could, clods of churned up dirt and snow trailed in her wake. “More of them.”

“An expedition?” Kal wondered aloud. “None of this is making any sense. It’s too cold...And it’s only going to get worse. How bad could it be that they’re walking through the snow almost naked?”

“They’re not the normal ones.” Dana brought her horse to a halt just before them. Anton spied Rasha ready her halberd. “They’re covered in wood and have stone spears and clubs.”

“Again?” Verona scoffed as she glanced at Kal. “How does wooden armour fare in the winter?”

“Better than bare skin.” Kal mused.

“Surdon lies to the south.” Anton clicked his tongue. “Cetina? Get the soldiers back. Cut the training short. I don’t want to be worrying about two fronts.”

Cetina frowned lightly. “If there are any Goblins still hiding they could take the opportunity to attack us in the rear. It probably won’t be many but we don’t know how many are hiding in the forest.”

Cetina pointed to the damaged section of the forest. The buildings extended deep into the forest and, despite Mezot unleashing terrible destruction, the trees would have provided some protection, even if only a few precious seconds but more than enough for some to escape. There was also the possibility the Goblins were not confined to just the Lumber Mill but had spread deeper into the forest.

“Eider can’t see heat from that far away…” Anton clicked his tongue again. “Bring them back. We’ll have them watch the forest while we have Mezot unleash her magic upon the Goblins again.”

“I’ll let them know.” Cetina ran off, slowly when her metal boots almost lost traction and caught the Commander’s attention.

Mezot tapped her staff. The Water Sprite gurgled and vanished, leaving behind a small puddle of water, far smaller than its total volume. “I can unleash another Icicle Tempest if you want. I won’t cast it as long as I did before…”

“Sounds perfect.” Anton began to move briskly towards the hill. “How many are we talking?”

“A lot,” Dana grumbled. “And since they’ve got spears I don’t like the chances of my horses against them.”

“I think it would be best to buy armour from Qaiviel for our horses,” Anton said. “They’ve already done the hard work in designing it. Might even help our relations.”

“Only if you buy it from Leo.” Verona stuck out her tongue as she followed closely behind. “I don’t think he’d care if you gave anyone else money.”

“Any word from Qaiviel?” Kal asked.

“Nothing yet. But I think it will only be a matter of time. These Centaurs sound like a serious threat, one that’s been allowed to fester for too long.” Anton caught the doey eye of Dana’s horse. “Dana? What do you think about riding a Centaur instead of a horse?”

“A what?”

“Think a Beast-kin with the body of a horse but the upper body of a human.”

Dana looked at Kal then Rasha. “I...They aren’t in Seocuria?”

“No…” Kal frowned softly. “They’re clearly a variety of Beast-kin.”

“The Seocurians got rid of the Lamia’s,” Rasha added.

Kal glumly nodded.

“I…” Dana stroked her horse's neck. “I quite like my horse. Right now he’s doing exactly what I tell him. I don’t think riding someone, or something, that could talk back to me is a good idea.”

“It would be easier to give commands.” Anton shrugged. “And an extra set of hands wouldn’t go amiss. But I’m told they are essentially feral.” Anton smiled at the Beast-kin girls. “But I was told that about you as well.”

When they reached the top of the hill the Chiroks were extremely restless. So too were Dana’s riders and for good reason. An ordered formation of wooden armoured Goblins marched towards them, a disquieting scene simply by watching them march in unison. However, they weren’t approaching the hill itself.

“They haven’t seen us yet,” Anton said. “Thank the Gods these things are quite blind.”

“There’s no way they’ll simply go past us.” Kal looked back to the ruined Lumber Mill.

While Mezot and Axia were still some meters away, Rasha and Cetina lagged behind for security, the Human and Beast-kin soldiers were finally beginning to leave the ice-covered ruins. None looked injured or even bloodied, their weapons and shields certainly had traces, but it was an important experience.

“Maybe they’re after the Goblins,” Kal said. “They can dominate each other, and they’re clearly much, much stronger.”

“And if they’re from the capital they’ve certainly got the numbers.” Anton frowned lightly. “Could they really be so desperate for a few hundred? I wonder what they’re doing down there.”

The male Chirok growled at the approaching Goblins, pawing at the snowy ground.

“It’s not like they can throw something as high as you two.”

Anton stroked their necks but the beast ignored him. For a moment Anton considered taking Mezot with him on the Chirok, both riding on their back but the safety straps were designed for one person and he didn’t want to risk Mezot falling.

I wonder how much weight the Chirok’s can take. But with the portals, it shouldn’t matter. I doubt they could take Rasha. They’re essentially bats, they don’t fly by magic...Can we make something like that? I remember floating chandeliers...Hm…

“There they are.” Anton pointed Mezot towards the approaching Goblins. “Can you attack them the moment they come into range?”

“Of course.” Mezot stepped forward. “They’re all close together so I should be able to get them all at once. There might not be much left.”

Dana scoffed. “They’re Goblins. And they’ll be dead. Not much else to learn.”

That’s not strictly true. If someone didn’t study them they wouldn’t know about their hierarchies and think the colour variations were merely cosmetic. But I do agree that the sooner we eliminate these things the better.

Anton gave Mezot a final nod. Her face hardened as she watched the Goblins approach. Anton did not know if she was judging the distance or could simply tell her maximum range, but he didn’t want to disturb her now. The Goblin formation changed direction towards their hill as Mezot began to chant. Even though their wooden armour provided them a massive boost in strength it would be nothing against Mezot’s magic. Mezot gave her staff a final tap as the light faded from her silver charm. A bright light formed over the Goblins, they screeched and began to run in all directions but it was too late. Giant Icicles pummelled them from above, killing everything below with its sheer mass, the exploding ice became shrapnel and eviscerated even more. After a few seconds, the magic circle faded but the damage was done. The Goblins were broken and all but annihilated.

“I wish I could use magic like that.” Rasha sighed, leaning on her halberd. “Even just a little bit.”

“I could teach you.” Mezot coughed, flattening her thick coat. “But it would take-”

“I…” Rasha smiled. “I’m alright with this.”

Mezot frowned but dropped the issue. Anton felt that she was more surprised that someone didn’t wish to discuss magic than merely wanting to not make the conversation awkward.

“Dana? Do you want to deal with the stragglers?”

Dana smiled. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”

With a sharp whistle, Dana’s riders surged down the hill towards the Goblins. Though their morale, such as it was, recovered remarkably quickly, they had simply taken too much damage to defend themselves effectively. Isolated and alone they were no match for Dana’s more nimble riders, dodging their spears and attacking them in the rear.

“I take it no one tried to attack us in the rear?”

Cetina shook her head. The Atros soldiers wanted to see the battle but their commanders and leaders ensure their attention lay on what was important. Anton spied Eider doing the same, but she looked like she wanted to witness Mezot’s magic more than anyone else.

“Good.” Anton clapped his hands. “It’s time for us to go home. We’ve done enough here today. All of us.” He looked to the sun. It was well past mid-day already. “And I think that someone has to return to the Academy. You’ve just become a Master, after all, it would be strange if you just disappeared completely for a whole day.”

“Not really,” Axia interjected before Mezot could speak. “Sometimes mother can just spend the whole day in the Library. Anyone looking for her would try there.” She stifled a chuckle. “They would be very surprised to hear that you’ve travelled through a portal to a dead kingdom.”

“They would not believe it.” Mezot smiled at her daughter. “They think this land is crawling with monsters and beasts. Only the forest bordering Qaiviel...I don’t know what they think is keeping them from invading Graterious.”

“For now it’s a giant crystal chasm.” Anton shook his head. “Filled with Goblins and near a strange cult. What they thought it was before is beyond me. Maybe so long as they didn’t poke it the monsters would leave them alone? Regardless, thank you for coming with us today.”

“If it weren’t for you…” Mezot tried to reach out for Anton but she was put off by the number of people present. Anton took her falling hand, despite the cold her face turned red, much to Verona and Axia’s amusement. “I wouldn’t be...I’m certain I’ve said this before.”

“You have.” Anton smiled. “But that’s alright. I’d like for you, and Axia, to come here as often as you can. But it cannot interfere with your work at the Royal Academy. Especially when spring rolls around and the classes begin in earnest.”

“It shouldn’t be too bad.” Axia shrugged. “Not a lot of people want to learn Water or Ice Magic. But now they have Mezot teaching them, and she’s a lot better than before, she might have a decent class of her own and not just what the Academy orders them to take.”

“Really? I’m looking forward to hearing about that.” Anton gave Mezot’s hand a light squeeze. “I’ll have to call upon you soon to teach me how to use Principle Magic.”

“O-Right!” Mezot coughed lightly. “Right.”

Mezot didn’t notice but everyone tried their best not to say a word.

“Speaking of.” Anton looked at Mezot’s charm. “How expensive will all this be? Not that I’m charging you, or the other way around really, but materials and equipment. You needed a nobles backing to get into the Academy.”

Mezot nodded, the seriousness had returned.

“And it was hard for you to survive on a lecturers pay,” Cetina added. “It’s strange that they don’t pay those teaching the next generation enough to live. I’m sure that can’t be good for anyone.”

“It keeps them dependent on the nobles and imperial family,” Anton said. “Anything more is incidental.”

“Equipment will cost a bit,” Mezot said. “Especially Simple Charms, like Axia has. They are extremely expensive to make. Far more than what I can afford as a Master.”

“Still?” Anton shook his head. His eyes were drawn towards the lines of Atros soldiers waiting patiently on the other side of the hill. “I think it’s time we deal with Balefire Mine while we have everyone. All the silver we could possibly want.”

“And those wooden Goblins?” Kal asked.

“I’ll take one of the Chiroks and head south once we’re done. The old capital isn’t going anywhere. But first.” Anton offered his hand to Mezot once again. “We need to make sure we get our new Principle Mage back home safely.”

Axia pretended to wretch but Mezot ignored her. It may have been clichéd but Mezot still took his hand. Anton didn’t want to think that it was likely one of the few positive interactions she’d had in a decade. Her small smile told him that she didn’t care, that the past few days had been like a waking dream. Even though he needed her for Atros’s survival it didn’t mean that he couldn’t spoil her a little. It wasn’t like Verona’s words had corrupted him, not at all.

Volume 05 - Chapter 13 - Balefire Mine

Chapter 178:

“Nothing’s changed,” Anton said softly as he stepped through the portal to Balefire Mine. Cetina and Rasha had already stepped through the portal, along with a few human and Beast-kin soldiers. They formed a loose circle around the portal, their attention focused between the closed hatch door and the tunnel in the rear of the storage room.

“Not a thing,” Cetina ordered the soldiers towards the trapdoor. She gave no distinction between the humans and the Beast-kin, something that soldiers gave no regard to either. Anton knew that it was only a matter of time, of cooperating during times of adversity, even if it was at knifepoint, before they began to ignore their physical differences.

“It smells a little cleaner,” Rasha added. “If anything.”

“The Ghlotsm should be gone.” Behind Anton the portal flashed, Verona and Kal stepped through, followed by another forty human and Beast-kin soldiers, Eider at the rear with her larger Beast-kin unofficial bodyguards. “I’ve been letting that White Ghlotsm do whatever it wants. Right now it’s nearing that crystal chasm.”

“So long as it keeps the bad creatures at bay.” Verona laughed, kicking at the faint layer of dirt covering the stone floor. “Can they work as miners?”

“Not a good idea if I lose control.” Anton took their hands and pulled them away from the portal. “Imagine them just turning on everyone else. It’d be a massacre. And…” Anton gently rubbed Kal’s ear. “And I don’t like the idea of slaves.”

Kal almost smirked, gently shaking her head. “I’m sure the Beast-kin appreciate that.”

“Don’t tell me that baby’s making you act strange?” Anton held their stomachs as the portal flashed again. This time twenty-odd Dwarves stepped through. “Just breathe and you’ll be fine.”

The Dwarves, Anton only recognised three from the original expedition to Atros, were still not used to travelling through the portal. They held their temples and groaned, more of a grumble, as their heads readjusted.

“Harden up.” Umikgruid laughed. “These humans and Beast-kin do this all the time.”

“We…” A Dwarf held his mouth, his cheeks swelled for a moment. “Aren’t used to this.”

“Nothing I can do to help that.” Anton ushered them forward. “But once you’re designing and building without restriction you’ll forget all about that.”

A sense of calm washed over the Dwarves. Anton marvelled that they were so entranced by the possibility that they wouldn’t be restricted in their designs. He hoped there wasn’t a reason for that.

“Anton.” Rasha approached. She had to lean low, lest her head or horn grind against the roof. “We’re ready. Do you want us to open the trapdoor?”

“Yes. Cetina? Can you station a few people near the portal? And that tunnel in the rear? We’ll send someone, more likely something, once we’ve secured Balefire Mine.”

Cetina relayed the order, choosing a few soldiers. Anton couldn’t entirely read their emotions; happy they didn’t have to go and fight but also knowing they would be staying inside a dark and cramped cellar. Mixed would be the best word.

Anton, after giving Verona her customary pot of blood, stood at the bottom of the trapdoor. Rasha stood underneath the trapdoor. She was strong enough to open it by herself, and with one hand. At the base of the stairs, a line of spearmen waited, behind them archers and crossbowmen. If anything had moved in they would be greeted well.

“Quietly, Rasha. We don’t know what’s waiting for us outside.”

Rasha slowly opened the trapdoor, stopping every moment the old, rusty hinges groaned. She kept herself under the protection of the wood as she pushed it completely open. As the trapdoor passed upright she held it tight, lest it fall and alert anything nearby.

“I can’t see anything,” Rasha whispered back. “Smells better than it did last time.”

Kal confirmed her words as they exited the underground cellar. A flash of white light, signalling the next wave of soldiers and Dwarves followed them out. The building they emerged into, an old sorting building with a somewhat intact mining rail, had degraded slightly since their last visit. The floor above had collapsed in multiple locations, the heavy desks had smashed onto the wooden floor, damaging it further and in some cases punching right through.

“Think this place can be saved?” Anton asked the Dwarves. “Or just rip it down and start again?”

The Dwarves didn’t even entertain the first notion. All he received were blank and vaguely irritated looks, that he would even ask such a thing.

“I think that’s a no.” Verona suppressed a laugh.

“At least they’re being honest,” Kal said.

Anton waved the other soldiers out. They kept their simple weapons close, at the very least they weren’t dropping their guard.

“Secure the building,” Anton told an attentive Cetina. “Have the lightest person you have check-up stairs, but don’t go all the way up. Just in case the wood has completely rotten.”

Anton allowed Cetina to issue simple orders as he walked to the rail entrance. He couldn’t hear anything from outside, a faint rattling from a piece of wood rocking back and forth in the gentle wind, no sign of any creatures, not that the Ghlotsm were particularly loud.

"Did you build this place?" Calo asked. She and her sister tapped the half-rotten wooden floor next to the wall. "Seems pretty old."

"Not us." Anton followed the rusted tracks and moved to the large entrance. "But, it certainly could have been."

The twins shared a glance, shrugged, and followed. Cetina and Rasha stood either side as the human and Beastkin soldiers exited the small door and into the city beyond. Anton could not see any signs of life, neither Goblin, Ghlotsm or some other nefarious creature. Dried husks and broken shells nestled in dry nests were the only evidence the Ghlotsm once infested this place. Anton knew the White Ghlotsm continued to grow its forces near the crystal fissure, though its activities had slowed considerably now the snows were falling in earnest.

I honestly only expected them to buy us some breathing room before they were overwhelmed like the White Goblin in The Shadow Isles. Once they're done there it'll be best for them to swing by the old capital. See if they can soften them up. If they fall...I can always make more.

"Anton?"

Rasha leaned close, a worried expression on her face.

"Sorry." Anton laughed, patting her arm. "I do that. Cetina knows that I do this from time to time."

Cetina smiled weakly.

"Too often," Anton grumbled. "Means that I miss things that people are trying to say."

Rasha smiled, stood up straight, and pointed across the mine.

On the far side of the ruined outer perimeter wall lay a battlefield, strewn with corpses of White Goblins and Ghlotsm. Anton double-checked that his White Ghlotsm was still functioning, it was but didn't relay anything else back. He did not know if it simply couldn't or chose not to, in an attempt to hide grievous losses.

"Do you see anything else?" Anton asked.

A creaking from behind, slightly elevated, stopped his thoughts. Several Dwarves were attempting to climb to the second level of the building, Dwarves who, by themselves, were pretty heavy.

"Don't go up there!" Anton yelled. The Dwarves froze in place. Anton pointed to the holes and the broken desks and cabinets littering the floor. "A lot of those are new. And I can't heal you if you're impaled through the head."

The Dwarves uttered an apology and swiftly moved down. One of the steps collapsed, sending the Dwarf tumbling forward and knocking the others down. They quickly hauled themselves up, dusted themselves down and left the building without a word.

"Does anyone see what caused that?" Anton asked. "I'm certain those are mine."

"You have Goblins?" Sheso asked.

Anton quickly explained what had transpired the second time they had arrived at Balefire, certainly no mention of the first. The twins were dubious but accept his explanation all the same.

"There are significant burn marks." Sheso held a hand to her brow. "But none of those can use magic."

"Might be a torch one dropped." Calo offered.

Anton gently shrugged. "If only those White Creatures could actually answer me properly. Let's move to the edge of the mine. I haven't seen the bottom before."

They followed the rusted and broken track line down to the platform as another small wave of dwarves and Human and Beastkin soldiers emerged from underground. Anton's boots slipped more than once, putting tremendous strain on his dragonoid feet, so too did Cetina and Rasha while the twins walked effortlessly down the slope.

"Can't imagine pulling a cart up that." Rasha used the butt of her halberd to stabilize her descent. "I would have trouble. Do you think they used slaves?"

"Definitely human." Anton tapped the wooden platform jutting out over the mine. The wood appeared strong, for untreated wood left in the elements for several decades. "I think they used a pulley system up there. That's where the slaves would have worked."

"And down there." Cetina murmured.

Anton moved to the side of the platform and looked in. A gentle spiral led from the platform, down to the very bottom. The walls had obvious signs of chisel and pickaxe marks, many of the rusted tools lay discarded where they had simply been dropped. The discarded tools clustered around large veins of silver. Now they were closer the rivers of silver appeared to have veins trailing off in all directions. These too had work on them. He followed the circling path down to near the very bottom. The bottom had the greatest concentration of dried Ghlotsm eggs, clustering around the centre. There was still no sign of Chelium ore veins. Perhaps they had found them all already?

"Do you want to go in?" Cetina asked, a smile almost crept over her lips. "I'm sure Verona and Kal would hate it if I let you go down there."

"No. I think we'll send the miners down there. When they're ready." Anton heard cursing behind him in a familiar voice. "Looks like we might be getting that report any second."

Umikgruid took the long way to them, by walking left to right while slowly descending. The few Dwarves that followed him copied after almost losing their footings.

"It's still a wreck," Umikgruid announced loudly as the ground began to flatten out. "A few of the buildings and the outer wall have collapsed but nothing too serious."

"It'll be easier just to tear them down rather than fix."

Umikgruid laughed. "Not much use other than kindling now. And even that's going to be pretty rough. But I came to tell you that we believe we can make this place very defensible and cart out a hell of a lot of silver and Chelium."

"Chelium?" One of the Dwarves asked softly but no one answered his question.

"Anything that can be reused?" Anton asked. "Or does it need to be made entirely from scratch?"

"I...Don't know exactly what that means, but we do need to make it from the beginning." Umikgruid kicked the rusted rails. "This is certainly no use."

"Do whatever you need to bring this place back." Anton looked into the mine. "We'll have all the money we need soon, but please don't go too crazy with the spending.

"I understand." Umikgruid smiled. "You can rely on us. Oh, and we'll run everything by you first, just like you asked. And the numbers of what we manage to bring out."

"I've only got one Strohierite stone left." Anton began walking back to the sorting building. "If you want to start now, which I think you do, you'll need to keep a watchful eye." He nodded to the small scorched battlefield. "Just in case that returns."

"Of course. Do you want to see where that tunnel goes?"

"Yes. But whoever you send tell them to be careful. There's no telling what's down there."

"Especially since a Strega Witch was involved," Cetina growled through gritted teeth. No one offered a rebuke.

---[]---

Anton's back ached as he began to finally right himself. The tunnel was just a tunnel, no traps or anything special. Ferula must have thought the undead creature was more than sufficient to keep intruders out. The tunnel opened to a large room, lined with roughly cut stone with a small ray of light seeping in from above. A broken ladder lay in the corner of the room, he knew exactly what it was for.

"I'm going to need your magic when I'm back." Cetina gently tapped his shoulder to push him forward.

"It's not that bad," Calo said.

"Just relax your body and you'll be fine." Calo immediately added.

Cetina's eye twitched violently. While she and Anton had to stoop low for many hundreds of meters, and Rasha was simply too big to fit reasonably, the twins had no such issues. They couldn't walk upright, like the dwarves, but only had to lower their body slightly.

They are taller than Verona but not by that much. I wonder if she would be laughing right now. That, or poking me in the sides. Kal only does that if she thinks I'm talking to some pretty Beastkin.

"We have twenty boxes of silver." The Dwarf, waiting patiently on a crate, began to relay his findings. "All forged in ingots, but I don't recognize the insignia."

He held a bar aloft, his muscles tensed from lifting such a dense piece of metal.

"That's the symbol of the Kar Kingdom." Anton approached the other crates. A water droplet struck the crate, causing everyone to look at its source. "Guess that noble thought he was going to bring it all back."

Anton waited for a reply that wasn't coming.

Normally Verona would say that's a good thing. No way would Atros be allowed. I'd also never met Kal or any of the Beastkin. Or Dwarves or Dark Elves. How boring that would be.

"That's the other thing." The Dwarf turned sheepishly and pointed behind a distant crate near the ladder. "Do you want me to tell you what else I found before we move on to that?"

Anton gave a nod. He presumed it was a skeleton but he'd seen corpses before, created quite a few of them. Nevertheless, the Dwarf must have felt it was very important, so important that Anton would simply forget everything else should it be shown.

"I also found a small box of Chelium ingots, only a dozen or so. The only other thing I found was a map. A simple one that appears to have a destination somewhere within these lands."

Cetina took the small, dusty piece of paper. From the mere act of touch it looked ready to break already. Anton restored the map to a reasonable condition.

"The trail..." Cetina followed a faint red line on the crude map. "Leads to...What was that port called? Jaka. That was its name."

"They never made it," Anton said dryly. "We'd have known."

"How?" Calo absentmindedly asked. She and her sister inspected a silver ingot very closely. "Did you think they would have hired mercenaries to take the land back?"

"Yes. But everyone in Jaka was from Seocuria. Someone from the Kar Kingdom would have stuck out like a sore thumb. And I'd expect their children to be somewhere in between."

Anton stepped towards the Dwarf. "So I guess it's a body?"

"Yes. A tragic accident, I suspect."

The Dwarf showed them the skeleton, crumpled with a small crate of Chelium ore resting on its leg bones. The bones beneath were shattered but not from simple age. The crate had been dropped.

"Probably when he was still alive."

"What?" Cetina asked softly.

"The man tried..." A glint caught Anton's eye, something hidden underneath his hand. "One last journal. Right?"

"Do you know about this?" Calo asked Cetina.

Cetina shrugged. She had not been with them during their first foray into the dead kingdom.

"I'm interested in seeing what he has to say."

Anton looked again to the skeleton. While most of the clothes were completely rotten some scant pieces had survived, those with tiny pieces of gold and silver studs. Not something one expected a commoner to wear.

"What Atros would have been like if you decided to stay."

Anton caught the Dwarves attention. "Start bringing everything through, including that crate. When you're done, seal the tunnel. Don't want any unexpected visitors."

"And this room?" The Dwarf motioned to the stone roof above. "Collapse this too?"

"Why not?" Anton held the small journal tight. "There's nothing else for us here."

---[]---

A giant hand awaited Anton at the end of the tunnel, gently pulling him out. The owner, Rasha, smiled as she helped Cetina out.

"There's no way I'd have fit in there. Did you find anything?"

Anton groaned as he straightened his back. Being crouched for many hundreds of meters was not a pleasant experience. The twins merely chuckled as they exited, only needing to flex their necks a few times.

"Just a book. How good are you are reading?"

Rasha's face remained perfectly flat, forcefully so. "I think I can remember a few letters...That Graterian woman, Mezot, isn't that bad a teacher. When you can hear her."

"Powerful mage too," Cetina added softly.

"You're both learning faster than Verona at least." Anton smiled. "But don't tell her I said that."

"So what does it say?" Calo asked, poking the journal with a curious finger. "I've been wondering the whole time."

"Let's get some light and some air."

Out of the basement, construction continued to pick up pace. The Dwarves were sparing no effort, and neither were the Human and Beastkin soldiers. Thankfully Umikgruid had everything well under control and didn't need Anton's approval for every detail. He gave them a small nod from his position near the large entrance and continued to direct the work.

Anton chose the steps, they were more than strong enough for him and sat. Cetina and Rasha remained standing while Calo and Sheso knelt on the floor. Anton felt they were deliberately trying to look cute, not that they needed to try, and carried on regardless.

"There's only a few pages." Anton quickly flicked through the journal. "No surprise there. We found their last one down there."

"And a lot of skeletons," Cetina added.

"Of Ghlotsm?" Sheso asked.

"Humans." Anton stopped on the first written page. "Children too. They starved to death down there, in the darkness. Hearing the Ghlotsm skitter and claw over the trapdoor, thinking that any moment the creatures would discover their hiding spot and tear them to shreds. A very long, protracted death.”

"A horrible way to die," Sheso spoke very softly, both looked very forlorn.

"Looks like our noble friend managed to get past the undead creature, with several attendants. They planned to make a break for Jaka and sail to Graterious where they could spend the silver. But..."

"He fell?"

Anton nodded. "Slipped while carrying a crate up and smashed his legs. The others abandoned him." Anton smiled as he flicked through the pages. "Seems like he had many words to say about their treachery. That's what most of the book is. Just rants and curses. Sorry, but there's nothing interesting to tell this time."

"This time?" Rasha tilted her head.

"We have the other journals back home. Some reading practice, maybe." Anton gently placed the book down. "But that looks like the end for our noble friend."

"A little disappointing." Cetina shrugged. "But mine could have been very similar."

"I'm glad it wasn’t." Anton's only received rolling eyes, but they all smiled faintly. Anton tapped the journal. "Balefire's established. We have a secure home and our other plans are proceeding nicely."

"Rest for the winter then?" Sheso asked.

"Verona was talking a hot outdoor bath," Calo said. "Like the ones we had back in The Shadow Isles. Is that true?"

"It is." Anton raised his hand as the twins were already on the verge of bursting from excitement. "But it was for our personal use."

The twins understood but Anton caught a twinge of annoyance on Rasha's face. He didn't need to be a genius to understand what irked her.

“It’s a low priority right now.” Anton chuckled. “Verona wants to have that giant palace built for us, so that’s going to take a while. At least there’s lots of room, so there’s that…But, with this money coming in I think it’s a good idea to start spending.”

“Won’t this mine run out eventually?” Rasha asked, her previous annoyance had already evaporated. “I don’t know much about…Economics? That stuff. But even I know the Seocurian Empire needed to do more than just mine gold and gemstones.”

Anton snapped his fingers. “That reminds me, the Seocurians apparently mine some very valuable crystals in the north. Small crystals worth hundreds of gold coins. Know anything about them?”

Rasha shook her head. “No. I barely left Danafra.” A wry smile crept over her lips as she slapped her forearms. “They wanted me for my muscle. But…Now that you mention it, I might have heard something.”

Rasha pointed to her large orange horn. “The Beast-kin that gave me this are in the north and work in the mines. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Anton…I might be able to speak to them. Or…Maybe not. They might just hate me since I’ve got Minotaur blood in me.”

“Such a damn shame that the Beast-kin are doing half of the Seocurian’s job for them.” Anton stood up, brushing the few rotten wood flakes from his backside. “That they wouldn’t listen to someone just because of their heritage is ridiculous…But that’s not going to change by me grumbling.”

“So what is the next plan?” Cetina coughed. “After taking one of the Chiroks south. That’s what we were talking about before becoming distracted by talk of hot baths…”

“I was thinking about travelling to Thessos.” Cetina nearly jumped at his words. “We need good clothes for winter, something we can also get there, and I’d like to continue expanding the range of our portals. We can also see for ourselves the land you come from. And to check on Thessos, see if the rumours are true.”

“I…” Cetina smiled and gripped her sword tight. “Thank you.”

“Can we come?” Sheso asked.

“If you want. I don’t have a problem with it. But check with your family first.” Anton smiled. “I don’t want for them to think that you’ve run off…”

Static filled Anton’s thoughts. A memory desperately forced itself to the surface, pieces surfaced through the haze; a small boy screaming and running through a river, a wave of cold before a hairy fist filled his vision. Anton blinked and it was gone. No one appeared to have noticed and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Cetina? On the way back tell us about the Bebbezzarian countryside. We’ll be seeing it a lot over the next few days.”

“Shame I can’t come.” Rasha sighed.

“One day.” Anton patted her arm as they walked towards the basement. “One day you will. Everyone will.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 14 - Surdon, Heart of the Infestation

Chapter 179:

Air whistled past Anton’s ears, filling him with a constant whistling. The Chirok’s flew higher than last time, not enough to reach the highest clouds but several layers were beneath him. While the beasts were fine with the cold Anton was not. If not for the thick layers of clothing his limbs would have frozen.

“My wrist would still be the same.” Anton murmured through the cloth covering his face. “Still feels like it’s grinding granite in there.”

The Chirok turned his head towards Anton, staring at him as its ears pricked up, immediately flattened by the wind whistling past.

“Don’t mind me.” Anton rubbed his neck. “I just ramble some time.”

The Chirok huffed and continued flying south. Though the day was beginning to come to an end Anton still wanted to scout further south. The wooden armoured Goblins continued to grate on his mind, small in number they were, they still represented a massive escalation in their strength. And since they had already seen them before he knew it wasn’t an isolated incident.

Anton felt the Chiroks veer away slightly from the Accursed forest. Below lay the ruined Lumber Mill, still frozen from Mezot’s magic.

“Can you sense Principle Magic?” Anton asked. He knew the Chirok’s couldn’t speak but he could not help himself.

The female Chirok, closest to the forest, dipped slightly. After a few beats of her wings, she returned to their altitude but not without more beats of her wings than the male.

“Must be something Mezot did...Is it actually colder above it?” Anton waved his gloved hand high into the air. “I can’t feel anything different, but those Ice Shards emerged here before smashing into the ground. Is there still something here?”

Anton knew he wasn’t going to receive an answer and continued directing the Chirok’s south.

“How’s it going up there?” Verona asked through the ring.

“Fine. Cold, but fine. I can’t see anymore Goblins or Ghlotsm. Shame we don’t have Mezot with us right now.”

“Her magic acting up?”

“Just wanted to know how much she knows about her magic manipulating the weather. I’m sure it could be done if one worked hard enough.”

“Mezot definitely has the skill.” Verona laughed. “But don’t go too far. We want you home for tonight. Spend our nights in a bed rather than a rucksack in the wilds.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kal said softly.

“Since I’m so high I can see really far. I’m not going to drop magic on Surdon, just in case we stir up the nest. One quick look and then I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Verona sighed very softly. “Just yell if something goes wrong. We’ll ride through the whole night to come and get you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you all soon.”

Anton continued peering over the heads of the Chiroks, trying to see through the clouds for the ruined capital city of Surdon. Thanks to his elevation and increased sight range he found it rather easily. He tried to enhance his vision to get a better look but the Chirok’s movements made it impossible, nothing more than a disorienting and vomit-inducing blur. Instead, he found the ruins of a small castle resting upon a stony some distance away. It sat on the centre of a small hill, one of the few topographical features for many miles. Though there was a risk the Goblins might be using it for shelter for the winter it was simply the only place for Anton to get a good look at the city.

“Down there’s good.” Anton murmured.

Fliodher’s influence over the Chirok’s, making them more docile and domesticated, helped greatly as they only required the lightest touch from their reins before they descended. As before the Chirok’s were not the greatest of landers, spreading their wings at the last moment and bouncing violently once their feet made contact. Regardless they both looked extremely happy with themselves to have made a successful landing.

“Can’t believe you get excited about this.” Anton didn’t remove his harness, much to the confusion of the Chirok. “If I landed like that I’d have hurt my legs.”

He silently chanted a healing prayer. It did nothing but the beast appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Anton summoned two Large Fire Imps. The Chirok’s were wary of the flaming creatures, growling as they backed away and pulled together, unsure of what to make of these things. Anton was a little happy to see the Male Chirok’s wings rise and his head shifted in an attempt to block Anton from harm.

“They’re with me.” Anton stroked the Chirok’s ears. He looked at the patiently waiting Large Fire Imps. Already the light snow around them had vanished, leaving two growing clear circles in the white. “Make sure that nothing approaches us. If they do, kill them.”

Summoned creatures didn’t have the best understanding at times, unable to determine a hidden meaning, but the order was simple enough. The Fire Imps breathed a steamy breath before turning to the castle. Without a word they charged towards the broken and dilapidated walls. Screeches, along with the tumbling of rocks, followed.

“So they were watching us. Oh well. Let’s see what Surdon’s all about then.”

Anton faced the giant city and enchanted his vision.

Surdon was nothing like he had seen before, and not for good reasons. The city itself was two or three times as large as Porswea or even Boreana, surrounded by a large stone wall. The city lying outside, if it could even be called that, made his heart drop. Ramshackle buildings, more shacks than even a basic building, spread for several hundred meters beyond the wall, a pathetic wooden palisade beyond that. The rooves weren’t covered with snow even though it continued to constantly fall around them. Tiny trails of smoke, from fires barely bigger than his fist, dotted the slum city. Anton finally found the Goblins, hiding in the relative protection of the homes. They barely ventured out, content with sleeping out the winter. Anton’s heart dropped even more when he counted thirty Goblins in one building alone, all huddled together like hibernating rabbits.

“There are at least a hundred buildings in that tiny section alone…” Anton winced. “Dana thought there were seventy or sixty thousand. Clearly that’s changed.”

Anton continued to observe the city. He looked beyond the slum city, he didn’t want to try and comprehend just how many of the little creatures were waiting for them, and into Surdon proper. Though the walls were high he could see the giant castle and the mansions forming the centre of the city. They looked in surprisingly good condition. Upon further inspection he noticed roughly repaired sections, far beyond what one of the Goblins could manage on their own.

Someone, or something, is directing these creatures. They should have turned on themselves by now, split up as there’s simply too many. And yet…

“What’s happening in the castle?” Anton wondered aloud. A loud shriek came from behind. A small group of Goblins had just been cornered by a Fire Imp.

Despite the sun still hanging in the sky there were tiny pinpricks of light amongst the spires and halls of the central castle. Anton increased his vision once again.

“People.” Anton clicked his tongue. “There are people living in there.”

He followed a man and woman, dressed in simple peasant attire, carry some small crates from one end of a room to the other. Memories of The Shadow Isles, of what Verona and Kal witnessed, came back. Sure enough, the humans carried a small amulet around their necks, a kind of fetish necklace of seemingly random construction. Unlike the cultist they discovered at the Graterious Empire’s border, The Ancient Listeners, they did not move like marionette’s walking to a single puppeteer’s will. They certainly weren’t happy but they had no qualms about living in Surdon, at least that’s what Anton felt from watching them from several miles away.

“First on the border near that chasm, then The Shadow Isles harvesting that mercury stuff, now here?” Anton shook his head, never moving his eyes lest he vomit. “Ferula’s got no idea how far their power reaches. Hell, they could have been involved with creating those Mottled Goblins. No news...Shit. We didn’t check the Royal Academy’s library for anything about them or the Ghlotsm. Most of our knowledge comes from Kal and an old hunter’s scribbles in the margins of a book, figuratively speaking.”

Although his scouting mission could easily be called a success Anton did not leave immediately. He continued to search the central castle for some sort of clue, more information about what they were planning. It was nearly impossible. This castle was designed as an actual castle, not a glorified palace. Designed to repel invaders, and that couldn’t be done with giant glass windows, even if the castle lay at the heart of a massive city and would probably never see action.

“Just more of those people. I wonder what Cetina would say?”

Anton had a set of portal stones with him, just in case, but he was about to leave. As he readied to tap the side of the Chirok’s waist, the signal to rise, his eyes finally stopped on the tallest tower of the castle. This tower was quite ornate and had very large glass windows, albeit broken. Two people stood on the balcony, two very young people. A boy and a girl. The boy pointed to the few interesting landmarks while the girl tried her best to pretend to be interested while desperately hiding a level of disgust that Anton had not seen before. Had she been a little older she very might have thrown the boy over the edge. Or herself. But the boy didn’t seem like he was disgusting, far from it. He seemed like a normal boy. The more Anton looked the more he was certain he had seen both before. Realisation washed over Anton.

“That cult is here! I can see that boy that was eating the Goblin flesh.”

“How?” Kal asked.

“These were the people you met before us?” Cetina asked immediately after.

“Yes. And they’re here. In Surdon. Leading the Goblins.”

“Well...Fuck.” Verona clicked her tongue. “Oh. Rasha and Ulyaa are wondering why our faces are changing so much. Not the right time, I know, but do you think we should get Rasha one of these necklaces?”

“How can you be so calm?” Kal asked dryly.

“Probably because they aren’t doing anything right now,” Anton said. “They have this many, they could easily crush us. Winter saved Atros and bought us a little time.”

“Good thing we know about it,” Verona said. “With everyone’s magic, Mezot’s and even Axia’s, we’ll be able to push them back. Especially with your new weapons.”

“Yeah...Remember the city we found later? The one that Ferula directed us too?”

“Yes?” Verona and Kal answered simultaneously.

“There was that girl that was offered to me. So that I would stay in their village?”

“You were honestly offered a wife…” Cetina groaned. “They probably thought it was a good idea. You already had two swinging off your arms by then.”

“Is she there?” Kal asked.

“Yes. She’s standing right next to that boy. Doesn’t look like she’s having a good time.”

“How many people were in Soulthor?” Kal asked softly.

“Oh no.” Verona winced. “Quite a few. It wouldn’t make that many but it would certainly help.”

“Those Mottled Goblins were created extremely quickly.” Anton folded his arms, not that anyone could notice. “Maybe they’ve found someone that knows a lot about these creatures. How to breed them extremely quickly. Or give the Goblin females greater fertility.”

“Are you going to attack it?” Cetina asked.

“No. we’re done here for the day.” Anton deactivated his eye enhancement. “I don’t want to stir them into action early.”

“We can’t keep working harder.” Verona sighed. “There’s only so much that we can give with what we have. We need more raids on Seocuria. And there’s...There’s only so much we can do before the snow melts.”

“We’ll see you back here soon,” Kal said. “Make sure you come back straight away.”

Anton tapped the side of the Chiroks. The two had tried their best to lie in the snow, the male couldn’t move much because of Anton but his mate had curled into a ball, her large bat wings tucked in tight.

“Hope it’s not too cold for your wings.” Anton rubbed the Chirok’s neck. “But you didn’t complain when you left, so I hope it’s alright.”

As the beasts readied themselves for flight Anton checked on the Large Fire Imps. They had scoured part of the ruined castle of Goblins and were currently stalking its halls looking for more. Anton dismissed them, returning them to whatever ethereal realm they originated from. He gave the beasts a final kick and they soared into the air. Thoughts tumbled through his head; theories as to why The Ancient Listeners had chosen Surdon, the cult’s plans and how to make Atros strong enough to deal with them when the time came. Thankfully the Chirok’s knew the way home and guided him back without a word.

---[]---

“How many?!” Dana almost had Anton by the collar, only Cetina’s and Rasha’s presence physically prevented her. “How many did you just say?”

The Chiroks, in their large open pens nearby, meandered towards the sudden burst of noise, curious as to the source. Even the pups looked worried, but that was coated with their endless energy.

“I don’t know.” Anton gently lowered both of their arms. “But many more than I’ve ever seen in one place. Many times more.”

“Fucking things!” Dana kicked at the snow. She quickly calmed as she gripped her hands tight. “I don’t want anyone to go through what I did.” She kicked at the snow one last time. “When are we going to attack?”

Anton readied himself for another verbal assault. “Not yet.”

Dana glared daggers at Anton. She clenched her fist, waiting for him to explain himself. Verona and Kal stepped closer, not that they were necessary with Cetina and Rasha by his side.

“There are simply far too many for us.” Anton continued. “But don’t think for a single second that I’m just leaving them be. I want to establish forward bases to alert us of their presence, maybe even keep them back. But I need more Strohierite stones to establish an effective perimeter around Atros.

Anton pointed to the roofed tower at the centre of Atros. “I know that you don’t want those things to be flying over the city. If I can get more of those Strohierite stones than they won’t be able to get so close. Start to free and secure areas, for future settlement.” Anton scratched the nose of the closest baby Chirok. “Once they’re settled properly the Goblins and Ghlotsm won’t stand a chance.”

“And these stones?” Dana raised a brow. “If you can’t get them then there’s no way that Raston or anyone in Qaiviel could.”

“I can help with that.” An elderly voice spoke from behind the Chirok’s sleeping hut.

Rasha readied her weapon, standing between them and the source as the Chirok’s growled at the unnatural breach of their den. Ferula emerged from behind the building, pretending to struggle with her can but Anton knew it wasn’t necessary, while it cut a path through the scattering of snow it never actually touched the ground beneath.

“Hello, Ferula.” Anton smiled. “I didn’t think we’d meet you so soon. I thought you said you were busy.”

Ferula smiled as the baby Chiroks ran up to her, their parents were not so jubilant and growled at their children. Their ears pricked up and slunk back to their parents while Ferula continued to walk to the fence.

Rasha stepped back and leant down to Anton. “Who is this?”

“Ferula. A Strega Witch.”

Rasha looked at Cetina in a mixture of confusion and deep concern.

“Not the same ones.” Anton smiled forcefully. “Think of them as a splinter faction.”

Cetina grumbled, never taking her eye off of Ferula.

Ferula silently waddled towards the rickety wooden fence. She let out an exhausted side as she rested her hand and weight on the fence.

“I had a little time free.” Ferula’s toothy grin did not fill Anton with the sense of calm she clearly intended. “So I thought I should give you everything that I’ve found. It’s not as much as I hoped but these are extremely rare and difficult to find.”

Ferula produced a large sack, far too large for her to hide underneath her tattered shawl.

“Excuse me, Miss Blue Oni, but could you please take this?”

Rasha looked to Anton for an answer. When he gave a nod she, somewhat reluctantly, let her halberd rest against the fence and took the bag. Rasha frowned as she lifted it high, Anton knew that she wanted to comment on how heavy it actually was.

“Anything good?” Verona lightly tapped Rasha’s arm to lower the bag. “Any of those stero-whatever stones?”

“I have some.” Ferula sighed. “But they are extremely hard to find. Even with my knowledge and reach, I am finding them extremely limited. There were some mines during the era of the United Empire but those were small and easily depleted. Somewhere out in the world exists another deposit, of that I am sure, but I simply cannot find it. Well, not on these lands atleast.”

Verona pulled out a small Strohierite stone, barely an inch across. The small stone could hold a single level ten summon. Since the Lightning Crows could hover in the air, away from potential reprisals, they made the most sense to be used to form a defensive perimeter around Atros.

“I count...Twelve of these small ones.” Verona continued to rummage through. “And four of the next size up.”

“As I said, it was very difficult.” Ferula shook her head. “Maybe they exist on an undiscovered island or cave, but this is it.”

“Maybe Wilford knows someone?” Anton wondered aloud. “Dealing with illegal goods, he might know someone that knows someone. Won’t be cheap, I know that.”

“Where did you actually find these?” Kal asked. “Did you rob some wealthy lord who kept them in their treasury?”

Ferula chuckled. “One or two might have been, not that they really understood what they had in their possession. Also a good test for my younger acolytes, give them some experience in the real world.”

“All of them?” Anton asked. “Even that one that was burned to a crisp?”

“She’s better now.” Ferula’s face hid something, disappointment perhaps? “And stronger for it. She will not be failing or humiliating herself like that again.”

“She was fighting against Principle Mages,” Verona said softly. “And they might have been young but they certainly weren’t weak.”

“Of course not. Not like your Ice and Water Mage.” Ferula smiled. “She has lived a hard life, not in the same way that you or I might imagine, but tough nonetheless.”

“I can only imagine what she has been through.” Anton peered into the bag of Strohierite stones. “Just how closely are you watching us? Every person that we talk to? That must get exhausting.”

“I check from time to time.” Ferula shifted more of her weight to the fence. “Just to make sure. You’re doing an extremely good job with what you have. Oh.” Ferula stepped back and began to rummage through her shawls. “There is something extra for you. Not as a reward for doing so well, not that you don’t deserve something, but it was something I intended to find. A way for you to create and use more of those magical creations of yours.”

Ferula laughed lightly as she drew a scroll from her many tattered clothes. Anton wasn’t surprised when it was larger than she was.

“A complete schematic of a Noding Tower.” Ferula held the scroll aloft. “Designed by the best Dwarven Engineers of the United Empire.”

“We’re going to be overshadowed by them quite a bit, aren’t we?”

Ferula handed the scroll to Rasha, Cetina made no attempt to even pretend to take it. “They did have generations to grow so powerful. But you’re doing well with what you have. Especially those Dwarves. Their technology will help you greatly, especially if I couldn’t find this. Their contraptions don’t need a constant feed. Just those little cubes.” Ferula smiled. “I hope you don’t neglect them because of this.”

Anton murmured for Rasha to unroll the scroll.

After what they’re going to build for me? For us? How could I ignore or cast them aside? Those rifles are just the beginning.

The incredibly detailed schematics showed a one hundred feet tall obelisk. Geometric patterns were etched into the four surfaces, from gold and some purple mineral, with a large crystalline structure at the top.

“This looks expensive.” Anton tapped the lines detailing the construction method of the black exterior. “I’ve never heard of this...Yegril? Never heard of it. Something super rare I bet.”

“I’ve never heard of it either.” Ferula sighed. “It was very difficult to find that single piece of paper. It might be one of the few left in the entire world...Maybe Xiam has one hidden in one of their libraries but I…” Ferula laughed. “Even I won’t live long enough to peer through all their dusty tomes.”

“Thank you.” Anton passed the scroll to Kal. “We will start construction the moment we can.”

No way to be sure that this isn’t just some sort of conduit for whatever the Strega Witches were planning for those stones. Or it might be genuine...How to figure that out? Can’t exactly compel her to speak the truth, I’m sure she’ll have a countermeasure, especially if she even knows Mezot’s name.

“I’m sure it will help.” Ferula frowned lightly. “But it will be extremely expensive if I haven’t heard of this metal before. Oh, and don’t let the Stone Men see you with that paper. They’ll be beyond furious.”

I know where to start to look. Somewhere in the Clans territory. Where the United Empire began.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting there anytime soon.” Anton smiled. “They don’t like anyone but themselves.”

“I wouldn’t even go that far.” Ferula chuckled. “But...I’m afraid that’s all I have for you. And I have already spent too long away from my duties.”

Ferula looked to the east, frowning at the sky. “Things are moving. Across the seas, things that might be beneficial or a terrible hindrance to us all.”

What even is to the east of this land? Seems to be endless ocean. Maybe Wilford will know.

“Though I would love to talk further we should not hold you back.”

Not like we could anyway.

"Can you at least tell us what's happening in Surdon?" Anton glanced to the south. "Those cultists, that were chasing us when we first met, have set up shop there and look like they're staying too."

Ferula slowly nodded. "I am aware of them. They will not even dare threaten you until the snows clear. You have that long to prepare yourselves. If you cannot defeat them then you have no hope securing yourself as the leader of an entire kingdom."

That's a load of bullshit. I doubt we're being used as a meat-shield, a barrier, since your swamp is hidden far away in the south of Graterious. Considering how you treated that young girl this might just be the way you are.

Anton resigned himself for an disapointing response. "If possible, could you inform us when they are on the move? We need every second to prepare."

Ferula nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't leave you defenceless."

Verona shared a glance with Dana, neither said a word but their exchange spoke volumes.

Anton waited for Ferula to speak again but she did not. He clapped his hands to break the silence. “Good luck, Ferula.”

“As to you. I shall see you all soon.”

Ferula waved at the baby Chiroks, the small beasts wanted to play but their parents scolded them with a deep yet soft growl. She gave a final wave as she passed by the Chirok’s building and vanished from view. Rasha frowned and walked along the fence to see past.

“She’s gone.” Rasha was utterly astonished, shaking her head as she returned to their side. “How can she do that? Can you do something like that? I couldn’t see one of those portal things.”

“Strega magic,” Cetina growled. She looked at the building as the Chirok’s began to investigate the sudden disappearance. “Never get involved with that stuff.”

Rasha scratched her cheek. “I don’t think that I’ll ever use magic. But...I…” Rasha shrugged. “Where do you want these, Anton?”

“Can you make those perimeter defences now?” Dana asked.

During their brief interaction she had been perfectly quiet, content to watch and observe in total silence. Anton wondered if Ferula even noticed her presence. She probably had but Ferula did seem very distracted, like she was taking a considerable risk just to visit them for a few moments.

“Tomorrow morning.” Anton nodded to the setting sun. “We’ll need your riders too. While we build the towers, don’t want anything to break these stones and destroy the Lightning Crow.”

“I’ll talk to Zac.” Dana frowned lightly. “See about getting them built now, so we can just put them in place...Are...Are you fine with someone like her just appearing in Atros like that?”

“Of course not.” Anton sighed. “But there’s not a lot that I can do to stop her. We’ve used all the Earth Mana we can without bringing everything monster within a hundred miles upon us. And I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“No.” Dana gripped her sword tight. “I’ll leave you to your business. Tell me when you’re ready to strike against those things to the south. I’ll be there, no matter what.”

Dana gave a final curt nod and left them. Rasha looked at Cetina. “Is she always like that? I haven’t seen her much but she seems a little...hostile.”

“She’s been through her own hell,” Anton said softly. “Possibly worse than yours.”

“That would be difficult…” Rasha stopped as Verona motioned for her to stoop low. All of the colour drained from Rasha’s face as Verona recounted Dana’s ordeal. She winced as she shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

“Just don’t bring it up,” Anton said softly. “We’ll send a message to Wilford, see if he has any idea.”

“He’s on the way to Frindal,” Kal said. “Maybe he knows someone there?”

“One way to find out.” Anton smiled. “He can’t do much from a ship, but he might just know someone in the Frindal Emirate that deals in such rarities.”

“Something that Ferula couldn’t find?” Verona raised a brow. “What chance do we have?”

“We cannot rely on mysterious witches.” Cetina faintly smiled at Anton’s words. “Especially when we have so many reasons to distrust them. We must stand on our own feet. It’s pretty clear she’s doing all of this for more than just a vague promise to the former king.”

“But what are the normal Strega Witches after anyway?” Cetina grumbled. “What do they want with those stones?”

“Nothing good.” Anton murmured. “Nothing good. Come on. We’ve had enough fun for today. Time for something to eat. Something good, my treat again.”

Despite the intrusion of the Strega Witch it was quickly forgotten the moment food became the topic. Despite that there was unease amongst them, Anton could feel it just by the way they walked. It was hard to push away the uneasy thought that the snow was the only thing saving them from oblivion. More worryingly, they had a new time limit and there was almost nothing they could do to grow faster. Their new weapons would take time, everyone that could be spared for construction effort was already working their hearts out and they simply couldn’t bring or rescue more people. It was like they had reached the limit at which Atros could grow, far faster than any city had the right to, but not fast enough for the threat lurking to the south. For the first time Anton hoped, in vain, that the winter would never end.

Volume 05 - Chapter 15 - Disconcerting Dwarves

Chapter 180:

“An additional eighteen Master Smiths,” Anton mumbled aloud. The dark and narrow corridors of the lower levels of The Dwarven Isles channelled his soft voice to sound like he was shouting. Anton winced slightly, the Dragon-Guard Dwarves didn't appear to mind. “Aren't the other Dwarven Clans aren’t going to miss them?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “No. Well, yes. But not anytime soon.”

Anton’s eyes snapped to the falling droplets of water cascading from the stone ceiling. Apparently, as winter approached, water began to condense near the peaks of the tall mountains, forming small rivers of water by the time reached the bottom. Despite the Dwarves technical skill and generations of work some always managed to find its way down into the depths. It was easier to send teams of Dwarves to keep the lower areas from flooding. Dragon-Guard Dwarves, of course.

“You’ll be glad to be rid of this.” Anton murmured. “How is the expansion going?”

Umikgruid nodded. “Good. Very good. None of those Insects and we almost have the forges working again, though all the lights now are.”

Anton leant back into the chair, Cetina shuffled back while keeping her hand on the pommel of her sword. “Can’t wait to actually have those weapons.”

“You do know that we haven’t tried to start replicating them.” Umikgruid frowned. “It’s going to take a while before we can make anything like that. Right now we’re just upgrading the forges, they’re a lot older than we thought. There’s a lot of work to do before we even start.”

“Not like we’re running out of money anytime soon.”

“You’d definitely want pickaxes for Balefire,” Cetina said quietly. “Do you have magical pickaxes?”

“We do. But they’re expensive. Even for us.”

“Might want to skimp on-”

Someone knocked loudly on the door. Cetina readied her sword.

“Umikgruid!” Someone yelled, the voice sounded familiar. “There’s a whole bunch of Clan Leaders. Right now. They don’t look happy.”

Umikgruid clicked his tongue. “Guess they’ve started to question where everyone’s going.”

“We couldn’t keep it hidden forever.” Anton mused. “Do you think it will turn violent?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “Shouldn’t. But please don’t do anything to antagonise them. We still have to get all of our people through. “

“This…Won’t be like last time.” Anton rose from the chair. Thankfully the room was tall enough that neither he, nor Cetina, had to stoop low.

Outside, alongside the dozen or so heavily armoured Dwarf guards, stood the young Dwarf they had first met upon reaching one of the Dragon Guard quarters. He was an excitable specimen, doubly so after his leg and fingers had returned. His friends were equally perplexed and awestruck to see him moving normally. However, that excitement had all but evaporated.

Currently Anton, Umikgruid and Cetina stood in one of the largest Dragon Guard Quarters. Verona and Kal remained in Atros, given the trip to the Dwarven Isles should have only take a few minutes, to assist preparing a home for Mezot and Axia. They had returned to Graterious to prepare teaching materials for absolute beginners in addition to basic literacy and numeracy material. Almost all of Atros couldn't read, it simply wasn't a necessity in the face of the Goblin threat, and it was a basic requirement for Principle Magic.

“Where are they?” Umikgruid asked.

The young Dwarf pointed to a large open area near the entrance to the habitation block. A small wall of heavily armoured Dwarves, wearing Chelium and Bosciycium armour with Adamantium weapons, stood before a line of older Dwarves wearing extensive amounts of gold and silver adorning their fine clothes.

Anton leant down to Umikgruid. “Anyone that’s particularly bad?”

“Not really.” Umikgruid’s lips curled into a sneer. “They’re all really shitty people.”

“I wonder what they’re going to say when they see me.” Anton mused.

“Not like you have any chance to hide.”

Umikgruid and their guards led the way through the Dragon Guard civilians to the Dwarven soldiers. They righted themselves and pulled their weapons close.

“It’s a strange day when you venture down here.” Umikgruid smiled at the Dwarven leaders. “For what reason have you decided to bless us with your presence?”

“Why do you have humans with you?” A Dwarf leader asked.

“Are they forbidden from venturing this far down?” Umikgruid retorted. “I don’t recall that being a rule anywhere.”

“True…” The Dwarven leaders looked at Anton and then to Cetina. “What are you doing here, human?”

Umikgruid raised his hand before they could answer. “They are our guests. They have helped us greatly and we are repaying their favour with our utmost hospitality.”

Again the Dwarven Leaders said nothing. A different Dwarf stepped forward, a female Dwarf slightly less impressively dressed than her male counterparts.

“We are hearing that many Dragon Guard Dwarves are no longer working.” She began. “In fact, it sounds like they are no longer working anywhere.”

Umikgruid shrugged. “Does that matter? We do have the right to choose where to work. Unless you’ve taken that right from us too.”

The first Dwarf’s eyes narrowed. “Of course not. We are simply wondering. Nearly all of the smiths working for the Iron Jaws have disappeared.”

Umikgruid forced his face flat. “We’ve found better employment. And we have the right to work wherever we wish. Unless you’re planning to force us to work for scraps, the first Dwarven slaves, like the Seocurian’s treat the Beast-kin, there’s not much for you down here. We have a choice and we chose to make them.”

“Who can pay you more than us?” The female Dwarf asked. “These humans? Do you honestly expect the duplicitous humans to actually pay you?”

“I take that the United Empire worked over the Dwarves too?” Anton asked.

The Dwarves’ eyes narrowed but refused to answer, though it was as clear as day that was exactly why.

They live for several hundred years so their grandparents probably saw the United Empire during its prime. And, more importantly, their desperate attempts to cling to power during their fall. Unlike the Dark Elves, someone might remember what they’re talking about.

“So is there a problem?” Anton asked. “Regarding anything? I understand that I don't know all of the Dwarvish customs but I am trying my best to not offend.”

The Dwarven leaders shuffled nervously. They had no authority to demand anything of the Dragon Guard, even though they lived and worked in the Dwarven Isles at their behest. However it would look bad to force them to work, and a great way to instigate a clan-wide rebellion.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Do not worry, honourable Dwarves.” Anton bowed low. “We mean no harm to you or your people. Over the next few days, we will be exploring the Dwarven Isles and purchasing equipment and materials. I can guarantee you will not notice our presence, but you may notice our spending.”

It wasn’t the best ruse but it appeared to be enough, the promise of gold was always enticing. The previously annoyed Dwarven faces softened slightly.

“Very well.” The male Dwarf looked to Umikgruid. “Just make sure they behave themselves.”

“We shall.” Umikgruid gave a curt nod.

The Dwarves grumbled lightly and left. Umikgruid sent the younger Dwarf forward to ensure they were gone. He returned with a simple nod.

“I thought that might turn out bad.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “They haven’t found the portal yet, but that’s only a matter of time.”

“Probably should slow down the movement for now,” Anton said softly. “Expand the hold first, and then leave all at once. That way they can’t stop you.”

“I’m sure they’ll try something again.” Cetina tapped her sword. “I don’t know what they could do…Is it taboo to enslave a Dwarf? I didn’t see any in Seocuria. Haven’t asked any of the Beast-kin…”

Umikgruid nodded. “It is. Though I'm sure a rich Seocurian merchant could afford one. No one would fret over the odd missing Dragon-Guard Dwarf.”

I wonder if Rafiki has any? He tried to make a Quarter Beast-kin...

“While you do that, we'll head up and spend some money. Make it look like we're following our word.”

“We are,” Cetina added. “We are buying weapons and armour. For humans and...Beast-kin. Mostly.”

“They won't suspect a thing until it's too late.” Anton frowned lightly, eliciting an odd look from Cetina. “Marion told me the Beast-kin have traitors and informants in their midst. In these conditions, I wouldn't be surprised if someone did the same.”

Umikgruid glumly agreed. “It is a possibility. I'll make sure everything remains as vague as possible until the last moment. Now, you two, head up there and buy something. Make your faces seen.”

---[]---

Anton was becoming very used to the smell of the salty ocean spray. This time he and Cetina had some time to explore the Dwarven markets, markets designed for humanoids. The layout was far more open and spacious, even though Dwarves were wider than most humanoid species, barring a few Beast-kin. Glittering trinkets and jewellery were laid out to entice the eyes of passer-by’s. Cetina’s eyes were drawn to several necklaces, her curled finger pressed against her lips.

“Which one?” Anton asked.

“What?” Cetina chuckled. “Oh, I don’t…”

“Which one,” Anton asked again, his voice a little more stern.

Cetina murmured something and pointed to a golden chain with a small blue and purple gem pendant.

Anton retrieved a hidden purse of gold. The Dwarven Jewellers eyes lit up at the sight. It was a little expensive but Atros still had a chest of precious gems and soon a nearly endless supply of silver, a few coins wouldn’t go amiss. With the Dwarf eagerly checking the gold coins for their validity Anton motioned for Cetina to turn around.

“I can…Alright.”

Anton placed the necklace on Cetina. She gently held the pendant, smiling at the small gems as Anton fastened the clasp.

“Thank you,” Cetina said softly. “Do we…” A sly smile, almost like Verona’s crept up her face. “Do we have a little time before we go back?”

“We do.” Anton kissed the back of her neck. He had to stand up slightly but Cetina still flushed at the public display. “But the Dwarves will probably say something if we borrow one of their rooms.”

Cetina patted his hand, her fingers turned tense. She gently pulled him forward and nodded towards the far end of the dock. Wood Elf ships had taken over an entire section of the Dwarven docks, even though there was more than enough room for forty ships. Golden-haired people moved through the Dwarves, the Dwarves bowed and parted like water, while the Wood Elves walked through with total impunity.

“I wonder if they’re the same Wood Elves as those at the Red Spines.” Anton mused. “Let’s see what they’re here for. Have a bit of a wander through the market and see what else we can find.”

Anton saw many things useful for Atros; weapons and armour of a higher quality than those found in the land of humans, with a price to match, but Anton needed a ship to disguise the massive purchases. There was no way he and Cetina could use three hundred crossbows and thousands of bolts, let alone carry. Nevertheless, he made a note of the good weapons, those that looked functional rather than needlessly ornate and garish, as they reached a division before the sealed off dock section. A small restaurant, with open seating near the sea, lay nearby with a clear view of the Wood Elves.

Anton took his seat where he could overlook the Wood Elves without interruption. Cetina first stood behind him, it took a moment until she realised she was to sit opposite him.

A young Dwarven woman approached, small rough obsidian-like notepad in her hand and a thin piece of chalk in the other. “Welcome. What can I get you two today?”

“A beer for both of us. Something that humans can handle.” Anton smiled, the Dwarf woman nodded. “And…What sort of food do you have?”

“We specialise in pastries and meat.” The Dwarf woman was very proud of the establishment.

“Then two of your best.” Anton smiled. “I’ve never tried Dwarven cuisine but I know it won’t disappoint. Nothing of yours has so far.”

“A water for me please.” Cetina smiled. “I really shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”The waitress nodded.

“I’ll have those sent to you in just a moment.”

Cetina watched the Dwarf slowly trundle away. She leant forward, raising a hand to block out her voice. “What did we actually buy?”

Anton shrugged. “Not sure. But we need something otherwise they’re going to kick us out.” Anton nodded to the nearby dock. “And those Wood Elves aren’t going to wait forever.”

Cetina gave a cute nod. “I’ll take the food then while you do your thing.”

Anton turned to the dock. A leading procession of Wood Elves were speaking with some rather rich Dwarves. Thankfully they weren’t the ones that they had just encountered, neither were they the Elves from The Red Spines, so they shouldn’t recognise him. Anton enchanted his hearing to listen in.

“You kept us waiting, honourable Dwarves.” The lead Wood Elf couldn’t speak with more condescension if she tried.

She, like the rest of the Wood Elves, clearly held themselves as superior beings. Unlike those from the mainland, these were far better dressed for combat at sea; small interlocking silver scales formed the foundation of their armour, covering their most vital and vulnerable areas, the rest covered with a thick green cloth material, too shiny and soft for cotton. Silk perhaps? Strange for armour but certainly not for comfort.

“Forgive us.” The Dwarves bowed low. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“And is that an excuse to delay our departure?” The Wood Elf ran a hand through her long, straight blonde hair, hidden underneath a silver helm made from the same silver scales.

“Of course not. However, there was a small rainstorm last night. I’m sure you would not desire potentially damaged goods.”

“Enough.” The Wood Elf sighed. “Just get everything loaded as quickly as possible. We are expecting dignitaries from the mainland. And I, personally, don’t want those degenerates to touch any of our equipment.”

Internal strife? That might be useful…But they certainly look tough. Atros, still, wouldn’t survive.

Anton smiled, he was sure Cetina raised a brow but he dare not look lest he vomit from disorientation.

Give us another two years and I’m certain we’ll crush you.

“We have all of the refined steel and Adamantium blades and bows you requested.” The Dwarf eyes narrowed as he took a deep breath. “Now comes…The question of payment.”

The Wood Elf threw a small pouch at the Dwarves feet. “That should be more than sufficient. I’m sure your stubby fingers can appreciate a Sidreadish fruit.”

The Dwarf, though clearly annoyed, snatched the pouch up. He hurriedly loosened the string and glanced inside. Anton saw a small blue fruit, like a blue strawberry with green seeds. The Dwarves eyes widened, as if he found a huge nugget of pure gold, and quickly stashed the pouch in his pocket.

“You’re not going to check?” The Wood Elf smiled. “How do you know that’s real without trying it? Of course, they might not want to see you rolling around the ground, spraying your liquids for miles around.”

The Dwarf grew a little hostile, the Wood Elf backed down, however slight.

“We will begin loading immediately.” The Dwarf waved to the workers waiting far behind. They effortlessly picked up the large crates and waddled towards the awaiting ships. “Is there anything else you require?”

The Wood Elf’s lips curled up. “Do you know why they are sending them to us?”

The Dwarf raised a brow.

“They consider us inferior and weak. Cut off from the main Kingdom.” The Wood Elf scoffed and folded her arms. “Push all of the crap onto us all because…”

“You fell?” The Dwarf asked softly.

The Wood Elf’s eyebrows twitched violently but she didn’t, couldn’t, deny it. “We received nothing from the homeland as the humans and Beast-kin over-ran our lands. We’re just lucky that they left us alone after they won. The same could be said for you.”

The Dwarf chuckled. “Unlike you, I’m not old enough to remember such times. Not even my grandfather could, maybe not even theirs. But we made quite a pretty coin from them.”

“As did we.”

Both laughed. Anton was conflicted, seeing them bond was nice, not so much that it was through the mutual hatred and mistrust of humans.

“We could use some Chelium ore.” The Wood Elf rubbed her chin. “Can that be arranged?”

“Of course. There is some money left over after these.”

All that for just a few pieces of fruit?

The Dwarf turned to leave. The Wood Elf sighed lightly, rubbed just behind her ears and returned to the boats. As she and her entourage left she looked towards the rest of the dock, towards Anton. Slowly her eyes scanned the people, completely uninterested by what she found. Her eyes flicked over Anton’s, he forced himself to keep looking towards the boat, and she simply moved past. Anton followed them until they returned to the ship without them speaking a single word.

“Interesting.” Anton mused, deactivating his enchantments and returning his attention to the table.

A plate of a steaming food lay in front, a large pie and three large sausages, with a large mug of beer besides. Anton glanced back but the Dwarven waitress was nowhere to be found.

“What did she say?” Anton asked.

“She was a little worried.” Cetina had already begun nibbling at the food. “But I told her you were just enjoying the scenery.”

Cetina smirked. “And the Wood Elves. She thought you were trying to perv on them. Even though they’re so skinny.”

“They are very slim.” Anton rubbed his bearded chin. “Every move is graceful and without any unnecessary movements. Without my special project, we’d definitely fall if we ever came to blows. I wonder how the United Empire managed to beat them?”

“Just keep throwing soldiers at them.” Cetina shrugged, a half-eaten sausage in her mouth. “I think that’s the only way.”

“But for them to have such numbers…”

Anton shrugged and turned to his meal.

“I wonder if Nithroel’s going to talk with us. If these dignitaries are going to meet us. One day we’ll have to consider that.”

Anton spoke in jest but the thought lodged in the back of his head. If these armoured elite warriors were reinforced by something that required so much material and time…Was Nithroel finally planning to attack them head-on? He found himself forcing down his food while Cetina slowly picked up on his growing distress.

“We'll be fine. Anton.” Cetina tapped his leg with her boot. “I know we will. But I don't think we should try and fight them at all.”

“I hope so too.” Anton smiled. “We all have to look after our home.”

His thoughts drifted back to Atros, to the two women waiting for him with his children slowly budding in their stomachs. Though they hadn't said anything yet he was starting to notice some changes in their bodies, slight but unmistakable. That thought alone brought a smile to his face, one that Cetina silently question, but Anton didn't answer as they ate their meal in silence.

Volume 05 - Chapter 16 - Prototyping

Chapter 181:

Immediately upon returning to Atros Anton was dragged away by the Dwarves. They were excited to tell him that their Master Smiths had already inspected the door and were waiting for further instructions. However, since the Dwarven Hold only had a single portal, it would take some time for them to reach the door, a long and surprisingly awkward journey, especially from Anton’s perspective. They hadn't placed a portal set there, simply in case something decided to slip through, so everything had to be taken the long way. This meant an exceedingly long and silent walk, where any topic of conversation had long been exhausted. Even Cetina and Rasha, escorting him through the dark tunnels, had run out of topics, even the most frivolous. The only thing of note were the Dwarves walking past, carrying empty containers.

"Equipment we bought from The Dwarven Isles," Umikgruid said cheerfully. "The pieces can be used elsewhere so it's not entirely wasted. But..."

"But?" Anton leant low.

"We are chewing through a lot of money." Umikgruid rolled his hand. "Your money, to be precise. Balefire mine will provide us with lots of silver but that's going to run out someday. I'd rather not have it all spent on us."

"Money exists to be spent," Anton said, returning to his normal posture. "A mountain of gold is utterly worthless. The metal only has value when it is spent. But we’ll have other sources of income by the time the silver runs out. Hopefully. And there are actual gold mines in the Kar Kingdom. One about sixty miles south of Surdon. Shame Nithroel's keeping us at bay. For now at least."

Bright lights illuminated the room before the giant sealed door. Light crystals, newer variants bought from the Dwarves Isles, lay spread out on large, heavy squat pedestals designed to be nearly impossible to knock over. At least from Dwarf height. Rasha took careful note of where she was stepping, holding her halberd tight as she walked just behind Anton. Ten Dwarves stood before the door, two the Dragongaurd Dwarven Elders, the others wore fine work clothes, heavily used and stained with soot and burns but unmistakably expensive and tough.

“This is incredible.” The male elder began. "I’ve never seen anything like this"

"Nothing like this back on the Isles?"

The elder shook his head, almost cracking a smile. "Absolutely not. Nothing like this. Not even in the oldest, deepest depths."

He gently tossed a small stone at the door. Sparks flew and the stone disintegrated upon contact.

"A very powerful defensive magic. Drawing copious amounts of Earth Mana…I've never seen something like this on a gate before."

"Any clue what might be inside?" Anton spared Umikgruid a smile. "Since you might be more knowledgeable about these things."

The Elders shared a brief whisper, so too did the other workers. Umikgruid did not appear to take any offence. At least on the surface.

"Not really." The female Elder began. "But it is possible to open." She looked to the piles of crates and equipment. "But it looks like you've already made that decision."

"I just don't want to open a vault of some nasty critters. Or something full of ancient Dwarven weapons that might just explode. Or rip us to pieces."

"No chance of that." The Male Elder smiled. "But if it does contain weapons you can be certain that they're very old."

"How long before it's opened?" Anton asked, folding his arms.

"Difficult to say." One of the workers said. He approached the door with a strange long bronze implement in his hands, like a cattle prod tipped with silver. "The work is both rushed and yet clearly made by a master craftsman."

He prodded the door. Sparks blew off the end but it remained intact. The worker giggled, relief rippled through his body, as he directed it to a small indentation. Something clicked yet nothing moved. He removed the brass cattle prod and stepped back.

"It can be done." The worker smiled. "It'll just take some time."

The other workers began to unpack many more bizarre implements, some gigantic and clearly part of something truly huge while others were no bigger than a finger. Anton was certain each had an intricate function, name and a story to match but he simply didn't have time or the memory to try and act like he understood any of it.

"Undo the magical locks but don't open the door unless we are here." Anton looked over the door again. "Who knows what's behind that door."

“Come on.” Umikgruid waved Anton away from the door. “We’ve got something else for you to see.”

---[]---

Waves of heat blasted Anton's face as they entered the giant forge. Once cold, dead furnaces now glowed with heat and flame, the sound of a hundred hammers and quenching metal filled the air. Dwarves, wearing thick leather aprons and special protectors for their beards and eyes, swarmed around the active forges like water around rocks in a stream. Anton hadn't seen any Dwarven forges in their Isles. It was quite an experience.

"We're doing well." Umikgruid was almost shouting, the ambient noise made it barely a whisper. "About a third of the forges are running again."

"And the ore and coal?" Anton asked as Umikgruid ushered them to a quieter area, devoid of heat and light. Cetina and Rasha weren’t doing well with the sound either. Both held their hands over their ears, even still it was still somewhat painful.

"We're burning, no pun intended, through all the stocks you had. Quite a bit too, for a small human mine. But we'll need to get more soon. We’ve sent out explorers to the lands above, not enough there for what we need, and we’ve consulted the old records we’ve found. The Blood Hammers used everything on their level. That’s why they were digging down, to where those insects are. Not sure how I feel about heading down there."

"Chelium?"

"Still haven't got Balefire running yet." Umikgruid slapped Anton's side. "Won't be much longer now. Oh, and the silver too."

"I'll be extremely upset if I find that any has gone missing." Anton found himself frowning. "After all of this..."

"There'll be a lot of people watching, just to make sure. But if you think there is then you can use that magic thing to make people tell the truth. Right?"

"Of course. I'd just prefer not to. What have your best smith's had to say about the special items we showed them?"

Umikgruid smiled. "They're quite intrigued. I haven't seen them this excited in a long, long time. They're buzzing around them like flies on a corpse...Forgive the comparison, but it's the best one."

Umikgruid led him back into the forge and to the far side. New construction work was already well underway, partly the source of the constant clamouring. A line of Dwarven warriors, at least wearing the best armour and weapons their impoverished clan could afford, stood in front of a breach in the otherwise smooth stone. Between them two lines of dwarves carried out wheelbarrow loads of stone. Anton followed the stream but didn't know where they were dumping it. At least it wasn't through the large door sealing off the dragon creature and the lava pit. Umikgruid picked up on his concern.

"We're taking it to one of the upper levels." Umikgruid began. "And we're building a pulley system so we can take it right up to the surface, using the stone to secure the walls on the tunnel up. Oh, and building a fortified entrance, so you, rather we, don't have to worry about someone just dropping in. It all saves us having to take it up the long way through the mountain. And the same for going back down."

Anton nodded, slowly smiling. "I almost feared you were just dumping that rubble into one of the lower rooms."

"Ha! We also need to dirt and stone for the construction of Atros up top. Especially stone. We've almost run out in the quarry and, apart from the mountain, there isn't much here. Lots of grass and some trees but..."

"Why not just take some of the loose boulders from the sides? I'm sure the mountain doesn't care."

"We are for the city walls." Umikgruid nodded to a passing cart. "But this is good stuff to work with, and there's no point in just dumping this in a pile."

"Fair enough."

The line of Dwarves allowed them to pass, Anton was grateful the entrance was high enough for him, Rasha had to crouch low, and into a secondary smaller forge under rapid construction. These pieces of equipment were far more modern, less angular and of a more ergonomic design, bought fresh from the Dwarven Isles.

"They didn't question these purchases?" Anton asked. "There's quite a bit here. How much is this costing me?"

"Probably best not to think about it." Umikgruid smiled. "But we bought each of the pieces from different sellers and used different Dwarves too. That way we minimize suspicion and keep them thinking everything is normal."

"We won't be welcome back after what we do to them."

"No. Better get everything we can before they find out. Ah, here they are."

Standing before a large table were eight Dwarven Smiths. Like everything else their equipment was new and a step up from what the other Dwarves wore. They barely noticed their approach, so engrossed with their work. Several items lay on the table; a copy of each Glyph infused weapon and, most importantly, a simple locked wooden box, one protected by a magical prayer.

"Oi!" Umikgruid yelled, startling all the Dwarves. "You lot need to keep alert. What happens if something goes wrong? Like an out of control fire?"

"Then someone like you can deal with it." A Smith retorted. "Of course you might just make the fire worse."

Both Dwarves laughed. At least it wasn't serious.

"This is the human? I thought he would be more..."

"Regal." Another Smith quickly said.

"Yes. That's right." Umikgruid studied Anton. Anton didn't know how he felt being scrutinized by the Dwarf. "You look like everyone else, except maybe your clothes are a little more expensive. And those two are following you everywhere."

"I don't ever intend to become an aloof leader. I've seen enough of those to, hopefully, ward me away."

"Well, enough pleasant small talk." The Dwarven Smith turned back to the table. He held the Flame Infused sword. "How did you come across something as rare as this? An actual Imbued blade. Did you find it in this hold?"

"We made it." Anton only received blank stares. "Not me but two of our young smiths did."

The dwarves scoffed at such a notion.

"It's true. I can assure you. If you want proof we can have them make one in front of you."

"I find that hard to believe." Another Smith said quietly, folding his strong squat arms.

"Are you talking about Shawn and Jocelyn?" Umikgruid asked. "Those two youngsters?"

"Yes."

"Their work is very good, especially for being so young, but..."

"They have the Glyphs of Esperit and Stratos."

"And that's all they need?" The Dwarves were honestly stunned.

"Seems to be. I don't know exactly how it's done but they say they pour their magic in as they forge the weapon or armour. And it's not just this. We have a small armoury full of these, Lightning ones too."

"Unbelievable." The Smith Dwarves stared in uncontrollable disbelief.

"So..." Anton trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"What?"

"Umikgruid. You received the message, vision, whatever you want to call it, to come here and find a haven for the Dragon Guard Dwarves. Correct?"

"Correct."

Anton didn't miss some of the master smith's holding back looks of pity towards Umikgruid. The side effects of receiving Esperit's message were rather severe, at least in the bowels department, but it only served to increase Anton's confusion.

"Can any Dwarf use magic? I know I should have asked sooner but you were extremely good with your axes and crossbows I...Come to think of it," Anton held his chin. "Normally Dwarves can't use magic like Humans or Elves."

"If you already knew that then why ask?" A smith looked very confused at Anton.

"Just some of my internal rambling. You'll soon get used to it. But you can't use magic, not directly at least?"

"No." Umikgruid waved to the giant contraptions. "But these do. In a sense."

"How rare are we talking?" Anton reached over the Dwarves for a Lightning Infused sword. "If I were to try and sell one of these in the Dwarven isles?"

"You'd be arrested before you could blink." The first smith huffed as he folded his arms. "They'd think you'd stolen it, especially if you're a human."

"I'm a little big to be sneaking through a Dwarven hold. But if I did?"

"Several thousand gold plates. Easy. These are...Were, ancient relics. The United Empire used them extensively but even then only in their elite forces." The Smith shuffled uncomfortably underneath everyone's stare. "My grandfather told me."

"Seems that Atros is, well and truly, gifted with...gifted people."

"Indeed." Umikgruid nodded.

"These are all very interesting." The smith waved over the collection of metal weapons and shields, all rippling with ethereal energy. "But what is in this box? We...One of us tried to open it."

The smiths looked to one at the back, surreptitiously holding his wrist.

"It still hurts..."

Umikgruid sighed. "When I said not to open it, I meant you don't open it."

All the smiths fell silent. Dwarves did have an insatiable curiosity, at least for certain things.

Anton reached out and touched the Dwarves shoulder. He gasped as his numbed hand returned to normal while many scratches and scars, alongside some of his greyed hairs, faded away.

"Should be better now."

Before the smith could ask any questions Anton returned to the table and laid his hand on the box.

"This...This is something far, far more valuable than that Infused equipment. Far more. In fact, I would prefer you to sell these, and pocket the gold, then steal this."

His words only brought confusion to the Dwarves but they remained silent, if only to hear more.

"This comes straight from the Shadow Isles, not that they understood what they had in their possession. I don't particularly blame them. Magic and this weapon would look rather similar."

Anton unlocked the box, gently placing the lid behind.

"It may look simple to you, deceptively and…perhaps even insultingly plain. But, it means the world to me."

Anton gently pulled out the bolt action rifle and held it before the Dwarves like a delicate, sacred artefact. To him it was. And when its power was shown everyone would wield these weapons would truly believe they held the power of a God in their hands. Doubly so for the victim.

"I want to know if you can make more of these." Anton passed it to the Dwarves. "And improve upon the design, larger and smaller, and some really, really big ones."

With the basic principles understood we could mass-produce bolt action rifles, assault rifles and submachine guns, alongside sniper rifles, pistols and even artillery. This alone will change the face of the world. But, I wonder if it will be this worlds undoing? I know Earth didn't exactly do great after creating these weapons, but then again humans were killing each other in prodigious quantities even if they were reduced to bludgeoning each other with rocks or a pointed stick.

"This seems rather..."

"Simple." A smith gently rubbed the barrel. "This is just steel, correct? With a hole down the middle...Hmm. There are a series of spiral grooves running along the inside."

"Unfortunately I don't know how to disassemble the weapon," Anton said. "So whoever takes it apart needs to take great care to make sure everything goes back the way it went it. Otherwise, it could explode.

Not really. Just put a bit of fear into them. Although, if it is damaged before they can start to replicate it properly, then we might have just lost Atros’ technological edge. We’re never going to have the numbers to compete with the others…

"Can we actually take this apart?" The first Smith barely took his eyes off the rifle. "You would trust such a thing with us?"

"My trust in you will be rewarded. If you can recreate this, understand how it functions, I will give you essentially unlimited funding and freedoms. You can go crazy with your stranger designs and ideas, so long as you listen to my orders first. And they don’t compromise the safety of Atros or its interests."

"Unlimited..." The Smiths looked around the room, focusing on the new forges. "We'll do our best."

Without further fanfare the master smiths turned their full attention to the rifle, their short fingers rummaging around the weapon to begin dismantling. Though none had seen such a thing before it took only a few minutes before the entire rifle was completely in pieces. Individually the pieces amounted to little but together, that was a different story entirely.

"Do you think they can do it?" Cetina asked softly. "It all seems like it has to be very precise."

"I have complete faith in them. Their weapons and armour are second to none. Those that we bought from The Dwarven Isles will be put to good use with our elites." Anton rolled his hand. "Those that would be called more than militia. We’ll get something for Eider’s new Cobra Retinue, when we’re done."

"Any chance of a better set for me?" Rasha tapped her metal chest plate. "This is good, I really like Jonathan's work, but it doesn't look as strong as Cetina's."

Cetina straightened her back, the interlocking pieces of metal clinked lightly, as attention fell on her. Her Qaiviel armour was indeed superior to anything that Atros had made, not that Anton was going to tell Jonathan that, but it was undeniably orders of magnitude more expensive than what they really needed. Then there was still the issue with Cetina's choice in colour scheme.

"We'll see what they say." Anton tapped Cetina's armoured shoulder. "They said it was made with Dwarven technology but made by human hands. Maybe they think it's a poor imitation of their work."

"They didn't say anything about the guard's armour." Rasha scratched the base of her horn. Pain flashed over her face as she lowered her arm.

"Again?" Anton asked, resting his hand on Rasha's arm. "Did you pull the same muscle again?"

Rasha hesitated in her answer. Her eyes fell to her chest, something moved through her mind. As she opened her mouth a Dwarven Smith shouted his name.

"When we get to the surface." Anton pointed a finger straight at her face. "You tell me exactly what's happening. No excuses. Understood?"

Rasha nodded twice as Anton moved to the table. He caught Cetina throwing quite an angry look at Rasha, that one of his bodyguards, and someone under her command, would keep something important from them. Rasha's presence shrunk as the Dwarves cleared a way for Anton.

"It seems simple enough..." The Smith looked to Umikgruid. "Lord Anton. But how is this motley collection of metal and wood supposed to be stronger than a Dwarven arbalest." He nodded to Rasha. "You have a few more of them and you won't need this."

"You'll be surprised when you see it in action." Anton tapped the box. "But what you hold is only part. The other thing is this."

Anton held the spent casing for all to see. "This is the other component, the other thing that I need you to replicate." Anton threw up his hand as the Dwarves faces contorted into frowns. "I know that you're thinking this is too simple. It's just a cylinder with a smaller top and a sealed bottom but it's not complete. None of them are, unfortunately."

Anton placed the casing down and grabbed the spare piece of paper. He drew what, at least in his mind, a complete bullet would look like.

"As you can see we are missing a few important pieces." Anton held a hand on his hip. "But they are pretty simple."

"This looks like a pointed piece of metal." The Dwarven Smith nodded. "But what is this part?"

"Explosive powder." Anton smiled. "Powerful and unstable enough that a simple spark will set it off. Have that explosion, and all the hot gasses it creates, inside a container." Anton held the casing up again. "And it will force the bullet, the metal piece at the end, out at tremendous speed. Fast enough to puncture skin, flesh, bone and even metal plate."

"And this powder?"

"We have it already. And we can make as much as we need. So?" Anton clapped his hands. "Can you make this?"

The Dwarves formed a huddle, one Anton clearly was not to be a part of, and whispered amongst themselves. Umikgruid shrugged but he seemed very hopeful.

The Dwarven Smiths parted with a determined expression. "Of course we can. It might take some time to replicate everything to a precise standard...But we can do it."

"Excellent. How-How many do you think you could make a day? If you have all the resources and manpower you need?"

The dwarves returned to their huddle.

"I believe ten a day, after another ten or so to work through the basic steps; building moulds and ensuring we can actually build the individual components, especially the smaller ones, with the option to go higher."

"Are they being built..." Anton raised his hand, buying him a few moments to gather his thoughts. "Will each of you be building a complete rifle? Or one person, Dwarf rather, builds the same piece over and over."

"The first..." The Dwarven Smiths shared a look. "Dwarven craftsmanship is a very fine art. We wouldn't just let anyone make these. It would be an insult to all the time and energy we'd spent to learn our craft if we simply let any upstart think they can work on our level."

"Perhaps. But we'll need a lot of these, thousands, tens of thousands and millions of bullets to fight the battles and wars to come. And it would destroy you if you had to try and meet those demands on your own."

The Dwarves grumbled but seemed open to the idea at least.

"I'm not saying to throw away your skill and training, absolutely not, but I'm sure your apprentices, and the human smiths above, will gain significant practice by creating these more simple components over and over again. While you, capable of far more delicate work, focus on the smaller and slower, well, more delicate components."

The Dwarves were far more relaxed now.

"Better than just making swords and axes all day." A different smith grumbled. "Give them something to do."

"Of course anyone that you bring in will be subject to the same rules as you are." Anton took a deep breath. "Perhaps even more so. A young apprentice babbling about what they're doing down here would end very badly for Atros and the Dragon Guard Dwarves."

The light threat was probably unnecessary but it had the intended effect. If it only meant they took a few seconds longer to think about the selection then Anton didn't mind.

"Firstly, we need to do it. But I don't see an inherent problem with that."

"Fantastic. And if we're ever short on workers we could get some humans or Beastkin down here to help." The Dwarves frowned lightly. "The ones without fur that could just ignite if they get too close to a forge."

“I won’t take up any more of your time,” Anton said. “Let me know how on the progress of these weapons. If you need anything let me know and we’ll sort it out.”

The Dwarven Smiths returned a curt nod and returned to the disassembled rifle. Almost immediately they had forgotten about their presence, implements emerged as they began to take measurements and bicker amongst themselves on the best way to recreate the weapon.

“Is there anything else you need down here?”

Umikgruid shook his head. “No. No, I think we’re going quite well. Not much more to be done other than to wait. Can’t take too many more Dwarves without the other clans noticing.”

“Not the skilled ones. But even a simple labourer can move stone.”

“True…”

“We’ll head back up top.” Anton looked to Rasha. “I need to find out what’s wrong with my bodyguard.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 17 - A Bodyguard's Secret

Chapter 182:

"Where are we going next?" Rasha asked, stepping out of the portal building and planting the butt of her halberd onto the stone road. "I'm certain that Verona and Kal-"

Anton raised his hand. "No. Remember? There's something that you're going to tell me. Whatever's causing you to continuously strain your upper body, or whatever it is."

Rasha's body stiffened. "Right. I did say that, didn't I?"

"What's wrong?" Cetina's voice was very soft. "It doesn't matter if it's embarrassing or it makes you uncomfortable. I can't rely on someone in a battle if I know they're keeping something hidden from me, especially since you're Anton's bodyguard too."

Rasha bit onto her lower lip. She shuffled nervously from side to side, it was enough movement for the chest piece to rub against her chest. Pain surged over her face, far greater than before.

"Rasha." Anton waited until she looked him in the eye. "Tell me."

"It's..." Rasha looked around, to the numerous people moving back and forth.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

Rasha weakly nodded. "Okay."

Already she moved more sluggishly, holding a hand just underneath her breasts and pressing her armour down tight. In the bright light he could tell that some of the colour had left her face, her long ears sagged lower than normal. Anton directed them to a nearby storage barn, it wasn’t the best but it would provide them privacy for whatever was afflicting Rasha.

"I'll make sure no one comes in." Cetina pushed the door open and ushered them in. A passing Atros guard almost peered through but Cetina quickly, and politely exchanged a few words before she returned to Anton's side. "No one will come in new. We're safe here."

"We've got a lot of crates in our way too." Anton motioned to the fully stocked barn, bristling with crates of food and other supplies. "So they won't see us."

Rasha's fingers gripped tight on her legs, finding purchase in the small gaps.

"D...Do you remember when you..." Rasha smiled, took a deep breath and looked Anton in the eyes. "Do you remember when you bought us?"

"A day I won't forget."

Don't force it out of her. I mean, I could, but that would only hurt her trust in me. But keep her going, and let her explain it in her own words.

"And how the Seocurians made us dress."

Anton and Cetina nodded once.

"I do."

Rasha gripped her hands again. Whatever she wanted to say something was holding her back.

"Is it something to do with that translucent dress they forced you to wear?" Anton asked.

"It was more like a wet piece of thin silk," Cetina added softly.

"No." Rasha clicked her neck. "It's not that."

"So what is it then?"

Rasha sighed and unbuckled one side of her chest plate. "Apart from that thin dress they gave us..."

Rasha waved over her chest.

"Piercings," Anton said. "Golden piercings. On your...Well, through your nipples. Same with Kristof. Does he still have his?"

Rasha shook her head. "He and Marion have had theirs removed. Apparently it was really painful and bloody...And they had Kal heal them afterwards."

"I do recall them being rather large." Anton mused. "So, do you still have yours?"

"I do. But," Rasha removed her chest plate, streaks of pain shot over her face. "They shouldn't be a problem for most people, Beastkin."

"The easiest way is to have a look." Anton clicked his tongue. "If you want I can get Marion or Cetina to do it. And I just heal you when it's done."

Rasha scoffed. "Marion would laugh at me."

"Cetina it is then." Anton stood up. "I-"

"I think it would be best if you had a look." Rasha plucked at the hem of her Arachnid silk shirt. She cast her head down. "I think..."

Anton, though trying not to stare too blatantly, instantly knew something was amiss. While it was certainly bad form to reminisce about the shape of her breasts, from the times she wore nothing but thin clothes, they had changed and not for the better. More worrying were the faint yellow stains covering the centre of her breasts, allowing the silk to become semitranslucent. He could see the golden ball ends pushing against the damp silk but even they looked wrong. The bright golden colour had distorted, tiny black lines covered the bars nearer to her nipples. None of it was a good sign.

"Kal said Minotaurs produce a lot of milk." Anton kept his voice as professional, scientific and impartial as possible. "Since they are related to bovines. I take it that's what those stains are?"

"Kind of the problem." Rasha gently touched the very tip. She snarled and gripped the edge of her leg plate.

"Let's get a good look then." Anton shuffled forward and motioned her to sit. "We'll figure something out."

Rasha slowly removed her shirt. Every part that brushed against her akin elicited another jolt of pain. Rasha grunted and ripped her shirt free. Anton wasn't entirely sure what to expect: Rasha was heavily built, a greater proportion of muscle than Cetina but with a thicker layer of fat covering her muscles. However his attention, and Cetina's, lay squarely on her chest. Anton knew they would be huge, he knew that the moment she was dragged out onto the seller’s platform in Danafra, but he immediately understood she was in serious trouble. Her breasts were swollen, like the worst example of plastic surgery and jutting out rather than resting naturally. The tissue beneath was pushing against her skin extremely hard. Veins pulsed angrily underneath the tiny stretch marks.

"Fucking hell," Cetina whispered.

Though not the most appropriate word it was exactly what Anton thought. Rasha managed a grimace as she laid her hands back onto her legs and gently pushed her chest out.

"Oh," Anton said softly. "I think I know what happened."

The source of the problem lay in the centre of Rasha's breasts, the large golden bolt piercings that travelled through her dark blue nipples. A thin and sickly coloured liquid, milk, clung to the bolt. Anton blinked again and he realised that it wasn't the milk that was causing the colour change. The metal itself had corroded.

"How long have you had these?" Anton turned to Cetina. "Could you please get me a piece of cloth?"

Cetina began to rummage through some of the nearby boxes.

"Since they brought me to that horrible place." Rasha too kept herself speaking calmly as possible, ignoring the fact that she was topless. "So a while."

"And when did it start happening?" Anton received a cloth piece from Cetina. "Right away? During our trip or when you were in Atros itself?"

"It started on the journey." Rasha frowned. "A couple of nights after you healed me. I don't understand. I thought it would make me better, not worse. Not that I think you did this."

Anton grimaced. "You're right. So far the healings have helped people. But...But I think I might have caused this." Both women began to object but Anton raised his hand. "Inadvertently. But I have an idea. Rasha? Could you please wipe one of your..."

Rasha did as she was bid. Each time she removed the milk it simply continued to seep out. Her eyes began to water from the pain simply touching her breasts caused. Rasha’s tolerance to pain was truly immense.

"Clearly those piercings are the cause of this." Anton shuffled forward. Rasha kept herself still and allowed Anton to manoeuvre himself. "The part inside has corroded quite badly."

Anton drew his small blade. Rasha's eyes fell upon the glint of metal, genuine fear in her eyes.

"I'm not going to cut you or anything like that." Anton waited until Rasha calmed a little. "But I do want to see. This might hurt a little."

Rasha gripped her hands even tighter as Anton drew close with the blade. He manoeuvred the blade’s tip to the edge of her skin, keeping his own hands clear, and prodded the distorted metal. Flakes fell free along with a large chunk. Anton picked it up with the blade.

"Smells pretty bad." Anton sniffed at the metal after cleaning it. "Like some vile metallic concoction."

"I thought gold didn't have a smell." Rasha mused.

"Do you think they would put that much gold in you, when you're just going to be sold off?"

Rasha frowned deeply, even Cetina looked more than a little disappointed.

"Perhaps the wrong phrase-"

"It's true," Rasha grumbled. "It is true. I wasn't going to go for much. Not compared to Marion, at least."

"Whatever this is." Anton flicked the metal away. "It's leeched back into your body and contaminated your mammary glands."

"My what?" Rasha and Cetina looked equally confused.

"Think of them as the parts of your breasts that actually make your milk. Men don't have them and that's why we don't have breasts...Well, you can if you eat too much." Anton waved his thoughts down. "Regardless. That's what's caused the inflammation and why your milk looks so wrong."

"But why now?" Rasha gripped the ends of a piercing and pulled. Her arms twitched and shook but she could not break it. "Damn these things. I can see why they cut them out."

Rasha looked to Anton, his face his deep thought. "What's wrong?"

"Why did my healing make this happen? Did it corrode...How sour is your milk?"

"What?" Rasha looked quite bemused.

"The Seocurians wouldn't want you to die from an infection they caused before they could flog you off, that's bad business, but they've surely done it to other Minotaurs before." Anton smiled. "But not one crossed with a Blue Oni."

"I..." Rasha scratched her horn. "I've been told Minotaur milk is a little sour. But Oni milk is really bitter and sour. Do you think-"

"That's why it corroded." Anton looked at the still weeping milk. "Constantly covered in it, as a mix yours won't be as strong as a full Blue Oni, but...Did the Seocurians use a hot needle to make the hole?"

Rasha frowned. "They did. And it was extremely painful."

"Especially there." Cetina mused.

"The red hot needle would have cauterised your wound. My healing would have removed the scar tissue which prevented it from flowing around it. Now that’s gone the milk completely coated it and there was no way to get it out from deep in there. Or stopping the contaminated milk from travelling back in. Maybe. I take that it was a little difficult to..."

Rasha's ears reddened as she cast her head down. "It was. It was very difficult."

Anton clapped his hands. "I think this is the first time my healing has made someone worse."

"I-"

"I know." Anton smiled. "But now we know it's not something like a magical disease. We just need to get those out of you and everything will be fine."

"But I can't." Rasha tried to rip them apart again. She fought back the tears as her fingers finally gave up. "See? And it won't go through."

"Not without ripping that apart." Anton nodded glumly. "Kind of what the Seocurians were hoping for. But, thankfully, we have people incredibly skilled with metal and delicate work."

"Who?" Rasha held the cloth to her chest.

Anton and Cetina exchanged a look. The answer should have been obvious.

---[]---

"You poor thing." The female Dwarven Smith could only look at Rasha with pity. "Who would do such a thing to a beauty like you?"

"The Seocurians," Anton said softly, though even he felt the anger through his voice. "They do these things to demonize and belittle the Beastkin, weakening their strength to resist."

"Seocurians?" The dwarf pointed towards the door. "You mean-"

"The Seocurian Empire," Rasha said, though there was a slight happiness to her smile. "The ones in Atros are good. The Seocurians that didn't want us as slaves."

"They're not the only ones," Anton recalled their time in Danafra, their walk towards the Slave House particularly. An elderly man and two children had caught their attention, the old man pointing to the dead Beastkin and shaking his head in disgust. When they realised they were being watched they scurried away. Not an action taken by someone that despised Beastkin and thought them nothing but meat.

It's inconceivable to think that every Seocurian believes that wholeheartedly. Although, the Beastkin have been nothing but slaves for generations. Breaking that mindset will be difficult, doubly so when their entire economy is so reliant upon them. But who would we even talk to? The old man? How could we find him in a city as densely packed as Danafra? One problem at a time. Especially if it's right in front of you.

Rasha grunted as the Dwarven Smith finally finished her work. It was a painful affair but Rasha kept her objections and noise to an absolute minimum. Both of the piercings had been removed, the mangled pieces of gold-coloured metal lay discarded on a nearby crate. While the ends were of good condition, the rod had cracked and split, throwing up great shards now stained with fresh and old blood. He wondered how Rasha had endured such a menacing and painful object embedded into her body. And more importantly, why.

"There's nothing left inside." The Dwarven Smith mused. "Though it'll be painful for some time. You'll need to be careful about infections and diseases for a long time."

"Don't worry about that." Anton laid his hand on Rasha's shoulder and chanted a healing prayer. Rasha's swollen breasts lost their discolouration and returned to their normal size, albeit still ludicrously huge. The wounds healed as her skin regained her normal blue tone.

The Dwarf looked stunned. "You...Did you heal a Dwarf when you arrived at The Isles? Young Dwarf, missing a leg?"

"I did. And he seemed extremely happy to be walking properly again."

"He's my grandson." The Dwarf tapped the table. "Thank you. He was having some...Dark thoughts."

Anton gently nodded. He didn't know, or want to know, what life would be like if he permanently lost one of his limbs. Temporarily losing his hand was bad enough.

"Be sure to send any Dwarf that requires healing our way. Kal is a better and more efficient healer than me but together we'll get them as good as new."

"I'll certainly keep that in mind." She picked up the rotten piercings. "I'll dispose of these."

"Very discretely please." Anton caught Rasha's worried look. "Very discreetly. Please."

"I understand." She wrapped them inside some cloth and placed it inside a small leather bag containing her tools. "It'll go into one of the scrap forges. No one will question it before it's gone."

"Thank you very much."

"Thank you," Rasha said softly. The Dwarven Smith had to ply over Rasha's breasts near continuously to free the metal but both acted professionally. Anton did catch her compare Rasha's breast size to her own head. It had baffled the Dwarf, that something could be that big.

Cetina opened the door and gave orders to the men still standing guard. As Cetina talked it gave Anton a moment to think. Think about what he would say next.

I don't think Rasha wants to hear that ‘everything's fine’ and ‘it doesn’t matter’. Don't think she's that sort of person. If she's to be a bodyguard...

When Cetina returned Rasha nervously tapped her knees. Anton could tell something was still coursing through her mind, and it wasn't pain.

"Best get dressed then." Rasha chuckled nervously. "If I get seen like-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Anton asked, his voice was calm but it unnerved Rasha more than if he had been shouting.

"I...I was embarrassed." Rasha put on her shirt. "Someone as big and as old as me, I am just a bit younger than Marion, shouldn't have to ask for something like that."

"And if you had been travelling with us and you'd fallen ill. What then?" Anton folder his arms. "We could be in a life or death situation, where we needed every bit of strength we can muster. And then you fall down or make a bad decision because that infection has spread?"

Rasha bit her lip, refusing to look either of them in the eye.

Anton sighed. "It's sorted now. I don't think there are going to be any more complications."

"I-"

"I am not done talking."

Rasha tensed.

"But…Look at me." Anton waited until Rasha met his gaze. Her eyes were not so much on the verge of tears but of regret and a little shame. "If. If you do something as stupid, as idiotic as that again, keeping something from me that could affect your life, I'll have you not only banished from my side but I'll make sure that you spend the rest of your days working some menial task in some dead-end backwater while you contemplate what you've done. Do you understand?"

Rasha nodded.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes! Yes, Anton."

"Good." Anton felt his shoulders relax. "There are still a few things I'd like to see before today is done. Do you need help to put your armour back on?"

"What?" Rasha blinked at Anton, then threw a confused look to Cetina.

"Do you need a hand to put your armour on?" Anton folded his arms. "You aren't released from my service yet."

"No." Rasha near effortlessly picked her chest armour up with one hand. "I can do it."

"We'll be outside when you're done."

Rasha nodded and began fastening her armour even before they had left. Outside, Cetina dismissed the guards and waited until they were gone before speaking her mind.

"Was that-"

"The best thing to say?" Anton leant against the door. "Possibly not. But if told her that it didn't matter, that everything was going to be alright...She knows that it was stupid not to say something and if she gets away with it the guilt will fester in the back of her mind. Not that she would do it again but that it isn't fair that she wasn't punished."

Cetina leant against the door, gently holding his hand. "You never would have thrown her away."

"Not the best phrase to a former slave, but yes. The threat is punishment enough. I think she knows that." Anton shrugged. He kissed Cetina's cheek, she flushed lightly and made sure no one was looking. "And if she had started to break I would have stopped."

"I don't know how many people think that I'm your concubine." Cetina murmured. Anton could only chuckle as she refused to relinquish her hold.

"Doesn't matter. They think we're all weird and strange anyway. They barely batted an eye when they found out I was with Kal. Quite a few thought we already were."

Heavy footsteps emanated from within. Cetina finally let go of his hand, resting it on her sword. Rasha emerged, fully armoured but with a somewhat despondent look.

"Everything good?" Anton asked.

Rasha nodded.

"Let's go then."

Anton stepped forward but Rasha hesitated to move. He stopped and motioned with his head for her to follow. Rasha took a deep breath and joined them. At first she walked behind, hesitant to even cross his shadow, but Anton slowed until she was by his side. She was clearly quite depressed but Anton exaggeratedly straightened his back. Rasha frowned until she understood and copied him. Almost immediately she appeared happier and a slight smile formed on her face. Anton began to walk, now with both walking proudly by his side.

Volume 05 - Chapter 18 - Worthless Paper

Chapter 183:

Anton knocked loudly on the door to his home. When he first moved into his new hone, just after the defeat of the Yellow Goblins of Mount Aspire, he had not bothered to lock it. Everyone knew that he lived here and how important his magic, and Verona's, had been in saving the village. Now there were far, far more people in Atros, people that had yet to see all of Anton's magic and might think he was just some lord. Then there were the purist Beastkin still lurking about who despised crossbreeds with more fury than they felt for their former Seocurian masters. It was no wonder the slavers found it all so amusing.

"Hello?" A muffled voice called from deep within.

"It's Anton." He heard the patter or feet, not claws, on the wooden floor. "Can you please unlock the door?"

"It's not really locked." Verona heaved at something heavy placed just behind the door. "Just a weight. I'm sure you could have pushed it open if you wanted to."

"I'd get Rasha to." Anton smiled at the Blue Minotaur. "She could probably pick us all up."

"Rasha's with you? Just...Just give me a moment."

Verona's footsteps led away from the door and back into the house.

"Was she naked?" Cetina asked.

"Probably." Anton chuckled. "Probably pant less, at the very least."

"In this cold?" Rasha asked. "I don't understand how you could."

Rasha had completely returned to normal after dealing with her issue. Several times during their walk she had tried to apologize further but Anton didn't let her get a word out. What had happened belonged in the past and that's where it would stay.

Verona's footsteps soon returned. They stopped as she shouted something back into the house, something to Kal. He couldn't hear the answer but Verona began walking and shifted whatever was blocking the door. A simple wooden bolt lock came free and the door opened. Verona smiled, her usual wicked smile, as she bounced something white in her arms.

"I thought that she should come and see you." Verona pushed the door completely open. "It's been too long since we saw Luna. I was worried that she might have forgotten about us."

Luna, the Peryton they had rescued from her dead mother in Graterious, sneezed and flapped its small wings the moment she saw him. The white deer had grown since they last saw her. She tried to escape Verona's by flapping its wings, Verona let out a cry as the wings slapped her face and let Luna go. She still did not have enough strength to fly so she plopped to the ground, her front hooves crumpling under her weight. Luna glared at Verona, who merely poked out her tongue, and trotted to Anton's feet.

"How have you been?" Anton scooped Luna up and cradled her like a baby. "You've...You've put on some weight since I last saw you."

"Shawn and Jocelyn are feeding him well." Verona smiled. "A little too well, if you ask me. Look. She's starting to get a little tummy."

Verona rubbed Luna's stomach. Already Luna had forgotten about being dropped and eagerly accepted the rub.

For the first in a long time Verona was not wearing any sort of gloves or boots, only a loose set of long pants and a button shirt with only two across her chest fastened. The red tattoos had not grown further but they were still extensive. Anton was a little concerned about the slight swell in her stomach, where the growing baby pushed against her skin, and if the marks would affect it. However there was little he could do other that hope and wait.

"You little mutt." Verona scratched behind her ears. "So how did the Dwarves go? Did they like what you showed them?"

"They did. They're working on it right now."

"That's a relief." Verona beckoned them in. "Atros needs all the help it can get, especially with that mess to the south."

Anton stopped just past the door, gently placed Luna onto the floor and removed his boots.

"I don't want to drag anything inside." Anton kicked his boot against the door frame to loosen the straps. "Especially big clods of mud."

Cetina quickly unbundled hers, Rasha looked worryingly at her hooves. She was, in a sense, barefoot. There was nothing between her large hoof and the ground. She raised her hoof, held the door frame with one hand and twisted her leg so she could see.

"There's quite a bit..." Rasha mumbled something more under her breath as she picked some clods of dirt and stones free. "Maybe I should wait outside. It-"

Verona scoffed, planting her hands on her hips. "That's not happening. I'll find you a stiff brush. I know Kal has an old one or two in her room."

Verona scampered off, Luna gave chase, as Rasha continued to pick at her hoof. When Anton removed his boots Rasha gasped lightly, she knew he had changed but only had seen his tail. She didn't ask anything about it and focused on herself.

"Here's one." Verona triumphantly returned with a brush in her hand, holding it high like a prize of battle. "Nice and rough so it'll get those bits of dirt and stone out."

"T-Thanks." Rasha hesitated to use it. "It'll probably get pretty dirty if I use it."

Verona shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Think of that as yours now. We've got a few spares."

"Thanks." Rasha turned around and began scraping away the dirt that had become embedded in her hoof.

When Anton finally removed his last boot, Cetina had long since finished and now stood in her thick socks, Verona jumped at him, holding him tight around his neck.

"I love you too, Verona." Anton gently kissed her as Verona slid down, holding a hand on his chest. "You seem more excited than usual."

"Because I've just finished one of my feather cloaks. Kal's just going over it now, she's got a very good eye..." Verona rolled her own, raising a hand towards Cetina then dropping it dramatically. "I don't mean like that, Cetina."

"I understand what you mean." Cetina looked at Anton. "I actually see better through my eyepatch."

"Well, we're done and I want to show you all."

Anton leant down and kissed Verona again. He gently picked her up and whispered into her ear.

"Be gentle with Rasha today. She's not in the best state of mind."

"Something you did?"

"Not exactly. I'll explain later. But promise me you'll be nice."

Verona kissed him and forced a little distance. "I'm always nice. I don't know what you're talking about or trying to say."

Rasha loudly tapped her hooves on the wooden floor outside. She seemed happy with her work, her hooves had regained some of their lustre.

"Kal's in her room at the moment." Verona laughed, nearly skipping down the hall with Luna in tow. "I really don't have one so we kind of took it over." Verona stopped and spun around, her shirt flew out. When she was side on the bump in her stomach was far more pronounced. "We don't exactly need one most of the time."

Cetina shook her head. She stepped to the side and waited for Rasha to enter. Rasha mumbled something as she stooped low so her bright orange horn did not hit the roof. Her special helmet accommodated her horn but that meant little when she could not stand up straight without it embedding itself in the roof. Cetina moved the blockage back, an old chest, and followed. As Anton followed Verona's rear he heard something hard occasionally scrape on the roof. Anton said nothing, Rasha swore under her breath after each hit.

Luna raced into the room before Verona, eliciting a startled shriek from Kal.

"Don't just jump on me like that." Kal spoke like a concerned mother. "I've got sharp implements in my hands. What if I had stabbed you by accident?"

Luna mewled, a deers mewl, and sneezed with excitement.

Kal sat with her back to the door, hunched over a large set of brightly coloured feather coat. A layer of red feathers formed the collar, changing through the rest of the colour spectrum along the length of the cloak. Kal’s ears twitched and turned towards them. Like Verona she did not wear her usual armoured clothes and cloak. Instead she wore a short sleeved shirt and shorts, exposing her mocha toned skin and her Beast-kin limbs. It was very rare for either to wear so little around other people, even in the relative safety of Atros.

“Hello.” Kal placed down a small bone needle. Anton found the way her muscles tensed very alluring. “Everything went well?”

When she stopped a foot away Anton reached out and pulled her in for a kiss. She grumbled, rolled her eyes, but accepted it all the same. When they parted he saw her long tail swaying happily behind her.

“Everything did.” Anton held her waist. “So this is what you two have been working on?”

“Yes!” Verona squeezed past, ushering them in. Anton and Cetina entered, Rasha waited in the door and stuck her head in, resting her large hands either side for support. “It’s long enough for you and doesn’t drag on the ground. Kal modelled for it-”

Kal scoffed. “More forced to. Not that I have a problem with helping.”

“-And…” Verona rolled her eyes. “And it works great. Really warm too. Even wearing as little as this.”

Verona tugged at the ends of her shirt. Rasha frowned at the tattoo swirls covering her body, especially how many of the lines focused on her stomach.

“It wasn’t her choice.” Anton explained. “Things just sort of…happened.”

“And Jira’s a bitch.” Verona clapped her hands. “But that’s not anyone’s fault…Except hers, of course.”

She gently picked the cloth up and motioned for Anton to turn around. However she was too short to reach him, even when she jumped. Anton knelt, Verona whispered a thanks as she placed the hem of the cloak around his neck. Kal’s cold claws brushed against his skin as they fastened the small toggles. Verona gave his back a gentle pat to let him know they were done. Anton stood up, careful to not snag his rear claw on the feathers.

“I’m very impressed.” Anton twirled the cloak back and forth. “This looks really good. I’m actually a little nervous about damaging it. I know a lot of work went into just this one.”

“The feathers will break before they come loose.” Kal wormed her fingers around a bright red feather around his neck. “Verona did a good job and fastened every feather individually. I added a few little things but most of this is her work.”

“It’s lovely.” Rasha reached out to touch the feathers. “And it’s so soft.”

“The underside’s a soft silk.” Anton raised the cloak with his arm, allowing Rasha to touch the feathers. “So it won’t agitate your skin. Not that you should be naked underneath this.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” Verona snuggled herself underneath his cloak. “I need the Dark Elves to get more feathers, track down the fast birds, but I should have a whole set done before summer.” Verona surreptitiously brought his hand to her stomach. “When this starts to grow even bigger I won’t be adventuring with you. Neither will Kal.”

“So I’ll be an assistant?” Kal asked dryly.

Verona jabbed her side. “No. Not like that. But I think we’ll all look lovely with them.”

“Everyone’s going to be really impressed.” Anton kissed Verona. “I’m a little worried to sit on it while I’m wearing this. I just don’t want to damage it.”

“It’ll be fine.” Verona motioned for him to kneel once again. She quickly unfastened the toggles. “I just really wanted to see what it looked like on you. Maybe when we have the next batch of Beast-kin you could wear it. Or when we explore during the winter…” Verona smiled and shrugged. “I think it looks good.”

Anton gently placed the feather cloak onto a nearby small table. “I’ll take this the next time that we meet someone important. They’ll respect us just from the craftsmanship alone.”

Verona laughed, a faint redness to her face. “Imagine King Leo seeing you strut towards him wearing this. All of us wearing these...”

Anton lifted the other side of the cloak. “How easily do these feathers get dirty?”

“Hmm?” Verona tilted her head.

“If we have to fight these are going to have to come off. Well, if you aren’t fighting with magic.”

“They’re surprisingly resistant.” Kal held up a deep blue feather. “The birds don’t have baths and their feathers are still bright. There’s a strange waxy material throughout the feathers. I’m sure that’s what’s stopping the dirt.”

“Speaking of worrying about things getting dirty.” Verona pointed to an incomplete set in the corner. “Those are the ones made from the Chirok’s feathers. I’m thinking of making those for our kids. They’d look so cute in those.”

“A whole bunch of little Verona’s and Kal’s scampering about the halls?” Anton laughed. “That’s going to be great.”

“Little Anton’s too.” Verona held her stomach. “I’m certain I’m carrying a boy. Or two. Maybe even three.”

“Have you two had lunch yet?” Anton asked. “We had something in the Dwarven Isles but I’m already hungry.”

“Not yet.” Kal leant around Anton’s shoulder. “Rasha? Do you want to stay for a late lunch?”

“Sure…” Rasha frowned at Cetina, wondering why she wasn’t asked, that she was just presumed to be coming. “Sure! C-Can you make me those baked potatoes again?”

“Absolutely. I love cooking.” Anton smiled at Rasha. “Someone prefers my cooking rather than doing it herself.”

“I can cook.” Verona jabbed his side. “Yours just tastes better.”

---[]---

“Anton?” Rasha stopped eating her cheesy baked potato. “Why…”

Rasha searched for the right words.

“What’s wrong?” Kal asked. Luna sat in her lap, eagerly accepting the scratches from her claws and the morsels of vegetables she was feeding her.

“I have been thinking-”

Verona, sitting beside Anton, wanted to say something but thankfully her mouth was full.

“-Why did you stay in Atros?”

“What do you mean?” Anton shuffled in his seat. His bound tail was now free, for the first time in ages during the day, but he couldn’t sit hard against his chair. Like Kal he had to sit forward slightly.

Rasha sat opposite on the long table in their garden, shielded from the gentle falling snow by the thin piece of outstretched cloth, sitting on a crate for a chair. When she tried to sit on a normal chair it groaned loudly. Rasha refused to sit on it again, lest she break it and fall down like a fool.

“Verona told me that you first went to Qaiviel, just the two of you.” Rasha began to pick at the crispy edge of her baked potato. “Before Kal came here. Surely…Surely you could have lived in Qaiviel quite easily. Just the two of you.”

Anton and Verona shared a glance.

“It’s not like the people here could have followed you.” Rasha scratched the base of her horn. “They could have…I think I mean that they couldn’t have forced you to stay…I’m sure I was trying to say something at the beginning.”

“It was a thought.” Anton said. Verona gently nodded. “But one I didn’t entertain for long.”

“But Qaiviel, even though it’s poorer than Graterious or Bebbezzar, has a lot more than here. Surely it would have been easier to do stuff there and not build everything from the beginning in Atros.” Rasha shook her head, her shoulders drooped. “Without those portals it would take even longer than it currently is. So why not stay there?”

“We wouldn’t have been able to help the Beast-kin.” Verona stabbed a piece of meat, pointing it at Rasha. “No other Kingdom or Empire accepts Beast-kin. It sucks to say but the Seocurians tolerate the Beast-kin more than most.”

Rasha’s face fell. “I don’t like thinking about it that way.”

“It didn’t feel right to abandon Atros.” Anton began. “After taking me in, when they could have easily thrown me out, and after fighting together I came to like this place. I do think that it would be easier to build elsewhere but I would immediately be caught up in politics. And, to be quite frank, I don’t think that I’m good dealing with that sort of stuff. I…I was sort of used to help assassinate a Queen.”

Verona grumbled as she ripped at the whole steak of Razor-Pig.

“But the Old Gods told me to stay in Atros, no matter what.” Anton shrugged. “Which I sort of didn’t follow. But if I didn’t I’d have never met Kal, Cetina, you or anyone else. Not the Dark Elves, the Dwarves and certainly no Beast-kin.”

Kal held his leg. “And I’m thankful every day for Tethra.”

“Still seems like you’re relying on Gods.” Rasha mumbled. “The Gods didn’t help me or anyone else.” Rasha placed her food down. “Sorry…I probably just need to get some sleep. I’m not thinking straight.”

“It’s alright.” Anton smiled. “I don’t think we should rely just on them. They...They are not reliable. That being said we shouldn’t wait for them to intervene, even if such a thing is possible, but their help has been indispensable.”

“I…” Rasha continued eating. “Just strange that the only humans that want to help us come from Atros.”

Verona cleared her throat. “My parents, they died before Anton arrived.” Verona began to cut her meat. “Told me to do what I think is right.”

“And?”

“And it’s right to help.” Verona shrugged. “It’s not deep...But…”

Rasha smiled. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this philosophical stuff.”

A knock came from the front door. Cetina immediately rose from her chair, finishing a large piece of meat quickly, donned her helmet and sword.

“I’ll be back.” Cetina murmured.

Rasha moved to join her but Cetina waved her down and for her to continue eating. Rasha had the largest plate, despite having eaten far more than anyone else.

“I...I think I’m just overthinking things.” Rasha nibbled on a cheese covered baked potato. “I know that you’re not doing all of this out of the goodness of your heart.”

“No.” Anton glumly nodded. “I would love to be a philanthropist,” All three threw him confused looks. “But I did free you with the express intent that you would help me.”

Rasha smiled. “That might actually make us feel better. An actual way to repay what you’ve done for us.”

“Speaking of.” Kal tapped his leg. “I think that we should try more raids on Seocuria before the spring.”

“We’re rather stretched.” Anton said, Verona silently agreed while she tried to sneak a piece of food from his plate. He caught her moving in her peripheries and grabbed it tight. “But...But more people means more hands.”

“More mouths to feed.” Verona said idly, pretending that her hand was not caught by his.

“Indeed.” Anton heard Cetina’s heavy boots echoing throughout the house, followed by a smaller set. “I don’t want Atros to rely on importing food. A very dangerous proposition should the Seocurian Empire figure out what we’re up to.”

“I wonder when they will.” Kal mused. “They aren’t stupid, not if they’ve kept millions of Beast-kin as slaves for generations.”

Cetina knocked on the door as she stepped through. A male Dwarf followed her, one he did not recognise.

“Hello.” The Dwarf nervously played with a small iron link on his beard. “I was told to come and inform you that the treasury of the Blood Hammer Dwarves has been opened.”

“I told them not to open it.” Anton almost leapt to his feet. “If it was protected-”

The Dwarf raised his hand. “That door still remains locked. Umikgruid’s referring to the...Normal treasury. It was locked with some magical devices but with everything we’d brought for the other door we had it opened in no time. We just needed to find it.”

“Go on.” Verona smiled. “We’ll clean up.”

Rasha began to stuff her face with the remaining baked potatoes. She only stopped when Kal stopped by her side with a small bag. Rasha murmured a thanks and placed them inside. Kal shook her head and gave hers a light pat. Rasha didn’t know how to react, being the older and much larger. Kal gave Anton a quick kiss before scooping up Luna and several of the empty plates. Rasha checked her bag was secure and joined Anton’s side alongside Cetina. She offered Cetina one which, surprisingly, she took.

“How much gold do you think the Dwarves have down there?” Anton wondered aloud.

---[]---

The Dwarves held their small, bright lamps as high as they could. No fire burned within them, all of the light was generated from the small entrance energy cubes. Anton did not want to imagine how many Dwarves had died when they still used candles and torches.

The Master Rune Smith raced ahead, racing behind a relative term for a Dwarf, and illuminated the ornate stone door ahead.

"The treasury." The Smith said proudly. "Took us a while to reach it, some of those Insect things had caused a cave in...Or maybe the Blood Hammer Dwarves did it?" The Dwarf shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Everything they had is locked away inside. Protected against thieves, and giant creepy crawlies too."

"Can't imagine those things would want gold and jewels." Cetina mused.

"Maybe they think it's pretty and that's enough reason." The Dwarf shrugged. "Maybe they adorn their nests with them? Who knows? I just know I never want to find out."

"Kal's toxic smoke should keep them at bay for a long, long time. If it hasn't wiped them out already." Anton nodded towards the door. "We can only hope. Now, can you get this door open or is it going to be like that one down below?"

"Still don't understand why they put so many seals on that door." The Master Rune Smith snapped his fingers at a significantly younger Dwarf. He produced a long brass implement and gently passed it over. "This...You wouldn't understand. But it's extremely expensive and difficult to manufacture. And we've already gone through ten of these trying to get that door open. Ten! I've never seen anything like it."

"But you are making progress?" Anton unconsciously folded his arms. He didn't like the idea of money being wasted, even though they still had a chest full of precious gems.

"We are..." The Dwarf raised his hand. "A moment please."

He began to trace a line over the door with the long brass implement, muttering to himself with every turn. It was not an incantation but merely him talking to the door, treating it like a living creature that was just being stubborn. Occasionally sparks would fly off but nothing too dramatic. After a long circular pattern, with many sharp deviations, he returned to the centre. The stone door made a loud clunk and opened ever so slightly.

"That." The Dwarf shook his head. "Is how a door is supposed to be locked. Not like that jumbled mess. Everything has secondary keys and locks. It...It was not designed to be easy to open, I'll tell you that."

"Let's have a look, shall we?"

The Warrior Dwarves moved forward and pushed hard onto the door. Cetina and Rasha stepped in front of Anton, just in case another breech lay inside with a horde of insects waiting inside. Despite the bright light nothing reflected back, no piles of gold, no racks or ancient weapons. All that greeted them were piles of paper. Small pieces, slightly larger than a hand laid flat.

"W-What?" A Warrior Dwarf stammered. "Where is everything?"

"Before you become too distraught can you see if there's anything moving in there?"

The Dwarves regained their composure and peered inside. Their lamps revealed the entire room, nothing moved within.

"No broken walls or floors." The Rune Smith muttered. "Oh. I can see some chests on the far side. Quite a few of them too. Thank all the gods it isn't just more of this paper stuff."

Anton followed the Dwarves, Cetina and Rasha still remaining ahead. Anton let the Dwarves run for the obvious treasure. He was more interested in why the Blood Hammer Dwarves felt these pieces of paper were so precious.

"There's something on them." Rasha said as she leant down. "I think-Oh no!"

Rasha's breath was enough to disintegrate the top layer of the papers. She gasped, backed away and struck another stack with her hoof. The entire stack shook and turned to dust, spilling onto the floor like sand.

"I'm not having a good day." Rasha mumbled.

Anton patted her side. "Keep your head up."

Rasha nodded, bit her lip and stood perfectly still, lest she damage anything else.

"These are...Notes." Anton covered his mouth as he looked closely at a mostly intact piece of paper. "Ten thousand gold coins."

"It's just paper." Cetina frowned at the hundreds of piles. "Are they made out of something special?"

Anton chuckled. "No. Absolutely not. Imagine trying to carry ten thousand gold coins-"

"I'd have gold plates..." Cetina frowned again at the piles. Her expression quickly softened. "I understand now."

"I don't." Rasha leant on her halberd. "Why is this paper so valuable?"

"The paper itself is worthless." Anton quietly chanted a restoration prayer on the note. "It's what it represents."

Rasha, very gently, shook her head and shrugged.

"As I was saying to Cetina, if you wanted to transport ten thousand gold coins you could try and find that many gold coins or you could exchange one of these." Anton passed the restored note to Rasha. "Same thing as the coins, plates and rings. There's probably little difference between them in terms of metal but some are worth more than others."

"I've never had to deal with money." Rasha rested her halberd in the crook of her harm and held the note close to her face. "Still seems strange for a piece of paper. But if you say that's what this is I'll believe you."

Rasha passed the note to Cetina. "I would actually prefer to carry one of those than a chest of gold around with me."

Cetina briefly inspected the paper and passed it back to Anton. The note was very simple; the denomination clearly spelled out in the centre with a faint insignia of the United Empire acting as a background. Four objects lay in the corner, a Human, Dwarf, a Feline Beastkin and a creature Anton did not recognize.

No Dark Elves. If they continued to resist then they wouldn't be so proudly displayed.

"Can we use this?" Rasha smiled as she looked over the piles. Her face dropped slightly when she saw the dwarves were figuratively digging their way through the dusty pieces of paper. "Aren't we the richest people in the continent?"

"Far from it." Anton's smile only confused Rasha further. "The United Empire is long gone. No one would exchange ten thousand gold coins." Anton held the note in both hands. "That being said, a collector might be interested in this. Might...Might pay more or less than what it says here. But only one. They find out that we've got thousands of them they'll be worthless."

"I understand." Rasha smiled awkwardly. "At least I think I do."

Anton placed the note in his pocket and moved to the dwarves. They had successfully extracted all of the chests, only eight in total, and looked very pleased with themselves.

"What were those things?" The Rune Smith waved the Dwarves to stop.

"Paper money." Anton said. "Not worth very much now."

It was technically true so Anton wasn't exactly lying.

"Anything good?"

"We're about to bust these open. See what the Blood Hammer Dwarves thought was so important to hide."

The Dwarves quickly forced the chests open. Inside lay the gold and jewels they sought. Each were only half full but it was certainly nothing to scoff at.

"Well I'll be..." The Rune Smith let out a giddy laugh. "Look at all this!"

"This will keep you going for some time." Anton looked out of the treasury, towards the forge. "So long as you don't buy too many more expensive things."

The Rune Smith raided both of his stubby hands. "Everything that's bought from the Dwarven Isles goes to Umikgruid and then to you. You're no Dwarf but I've heard you've got a lot of magic in you."

"I have him explain what each item is and what it does." Anton shrugged. "So far everything seems to be above board."

The Dwarves, and Cetina and Rasha, frowned at his use of an unknown saying.

"It's all fine." Anton quickly added. "Everything is fine. Make sure this makes its way back in one piece. I don't want to hear that I've forgotten how to count to eight, or that one has decided to turn up empty."

The Dwarves agreed. Anton had no idea if they would actually steal this gold when so much was at stake.

Atros went through worse, and people turned on each other really fast when things started to look bad.

"We'll-"

"I found something!" One of the Dwarves had been rummaging through a pile on the floor of rotten paper. Anton saw him pull out a wooden framed picture, larger than he was tall. The black wood, with red marbled specks running throughout the grain, could have only come from The Shadow Isles. At the very least it was created after the conquest of the Dark Elves.

"It's a map." He said proudly, trotting his little legs without breaking into a run. "I've never seen this before though."

"Perhaps a more detailed map of the hold?" Anton offered. Cetina took the map from the Dwarf and held it so everyone could see.

The map was incredibly detailed but it was not of the Blood Hammer Hold, nor of the United Empire at its zenith. Instead it depicted the lands of the Kar Kingdom. Except it was not labelled as such.

"Administration Zone Four." Anton clicked his tongue. "Sad that we're only four. Oh, it has another name. Karthiline. I suppose we know why it's called the Kar Kingdom then."

Rasha raised her finger, dropping it very quickly the next moment.

"It doesn't look like it's made from paper." Anton tapped the black wood. "Sounds like it's succumbing to a dry rot. I wonder what it is?"

The Rune Smith peered close. "I've seen this material before. It's a type of lacquer, the colours are actually etched into the material. Incredibly tedious and difficult. Normally they make it out of tiny little squares, in case something goes wrong. But this is one solid sheet." The Rune Smith smiled, letting out a slow whistle. "The Dwarf that made this was bloody good."

“So what else do we have here?”

Rasha leant over Anton, her armoured chest tapped against his head. Despite the layer of metal and arachnid silk underlay it was still surprisingly warm even through his head.

“There’s Atros.” Rasha said happily.

Mount Aspire was still labelled as such but Atros was not. In fact, it wasn’t a tiny village at the base of a mountain. The city was almost as large as Surdon, which had retained its name, with many farmlands and logging camps facing the Accursed Forest.

“Atrokla.” Anton tapped the hard lacquer surface. “Must have been the main trading hub with the Blood Hammer’s. I bet there were a lot of ancillary businesses as well.”

“Like food for the Dwarves.” Rasha mused. She pointed to the fields of wheat. “If Humans and Beast-kin worked the farms above the Dwarves could focus on mining and forging weapons.”

The Rune smith nodded. “That sounds about right.”

His hands trailed over the map. He muttered to himself, the other Dwarves crowded around, until one leant hard on his shoulder and pointed to the far east of the land, to Dragon Tooth Bay. There was no mention of the Seocurians, they had only arrived during the time of the Kar Kingdom, but he noticed a strange symbol either side of the entrance to the bay. It was almost identical to the Blood Hammer hold but significantly smaller.

“Outposts?” Anton asked. “Defensive fortifications for the bay? A good location for it. And I remember Umikgruid saying something about giant ballistae.”

“Possible.” The Rune Smith stroked his impressive beard. “It could be.”

“We didn’t see anything.” Cetina said softly.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a Dwarven fortress than would it?” The Rune Smith laughed. “Nothing like giant bolts striking from hidden ports in the mountain.”

“Any chance they survived?” Anton asked. “We could take the Chiroks and investigate if you think it’s possible.”

“I honestly doubt it.” The Rune Smith tapped the two symbols. “These would have only a few hundred Dwarves in each. We live a long time, but not that long. Not to mention I doubt they’d have anything to eat. A Dwarf cannot survive on fish forever.”

“We’ll take a look if we get the chance.” Anton continued inspecting the map. “But if it’s just an outpost there might have been something left behind. Maybe some old weapons and armour that could be useful.”

“It’ll raise the others spirits to know someone else lived in these lands.”

“We’ll take the map with us for now.” Cetina lowered the map. “Not forever, of course, but we need to see if there might be any hidden caches. I doubt it, given how long it’s been…”

“Umikgruid will be happy.” The Rune Smith smiled. “I’m sure he’s up top, working on that Sovereign Palace. Should be a beauty when it’s complete. Put anything in Graterious and Qaiviel to shame. Don’t know about anywhere else…”

Anton gave a nod and the Dwarves refastened the chests and took them from the treasury.

“Strange.” Anton looked to the piles of paper notes. “This used to be worth millions, now it’s worth nothing…I’m sure there’s a point in there about the futility of materialism or something.”

“You’re just saying fancy words to sound smart.” Cetina said dryly. She tried to keep a straight face but a smile slowly cracked over.

“Sometimes. Let me get a few more of these notes then we’ll head back to Atros. Before I speak to Umikgruid about the monstrosity Verona commissioned there is one more thing to discuss.”

“Which is?” Rasha tapped her halberd.

“My Cobra Retinue.”

---[]---

Anton found Eider working in the Lumber Yard of Atros, stripping bark from fresh logs. The cold and snow made the work difficult but Eider persevered. However she was cold blooded so she operated from under cover of a large wooden shack, a small metal brazier burning in the corner which her tail constantly hovered near.

“Are you sure you should be out here like that?” Anton asked loudly.

Eider, wearing her thick clothes that extended to her hood, stopped mid stroke and smiled. Her smile was still a little unnerving but the feeling had all but disappeared. The fangs, on the other hand, did worry him.

“I’m fine.” Eider slapped her arms. “This keeps me warm. I’m not going to the smithy, I told you that before. Too noisy and the chances of Irso losing her shit at me are too high.”

“You haven’t continued to tease her?”

“No.” Eider winked at Rasha. “But it seems to annoy her that we know.”

A nearby group of workers, a mixture of Humans and Beast-kin, quietly left. Anton wasn’t speaking about something confidential but they had no idea of that.

"I know we only, briefly, spoke about it before those Goblins attacked-"

"The retinue?" Eider cheerfully perked up. "I've been thinking about it too. Kind of dangerous with all these tools, but it has kept my mind off the cold."

"We should ask the Dwarves if they have any heaters that work off those cubes." Cetina said softly. "They've always got a lot spare."

"If they don't it'll give them something to work towards. They were practically giggling when I told them they could design and experiment to their hearts content." Anton coughed lightly. "A slight tangent aside."

Eider's forked tongue kicked at the air, never once breaking eye contact.

"Have you given any thought as to who should join? It can't just be you, after all."

"Unlike those two," Eider nodded at Cetina and Rasha. "I can't fight. Well, not that well.” Eider shrugged. “But I’m sure that I could lead really well.”

Eider picked at her lip. That too was formed from scales, albeit incredibly small and flexible. “I suppose those two Beast-kin that you sent to protect me would be a good start.”

“You realised that?”

Eider’s eyes softened. “Of course. I’m not that stupid.”

Her body resisted the urge to glance at Rasha. The next moment her muscles relaxed, she smiled even wider at Anton.

“I suppose they would be a good start.” Eider held a finger to her lips. “Are the Dark Elves…And option? Do you trust them yet?”

“I…” Anton raised his hand. “I would actually trust the Dark Elves not from the Green Moon clan more. I don’t think they’ll do anything stupid but there’s every chance.”

“Marion said something about them before…” Rasha quickly trailed off.

“Do you know where they are?”

“I think that they’re helping sort some of the supplies.” Eider said. She tapped the large, half hewn log. “Do you want to meet them now?”

“Why not?” Anton looked to the gently falling snow. “I never did get to really meet them.”

Eider waved them out of the Lumber Yard and back to the streets. As she walked her thick tail trailed low to the ground. She slowed quickly as she left the warmth of the fire, her hood pulled close to her body as her body shuddered. Being cold blooded she could not shiver to generate heat, she had to rely on external sources. Anton created a small fireball, barely bigger than his closed fist and held it close to Eider. She frowned at him but quickly understood when the warmth began to travel throughout her body.

“I wish I could use fire magic.” Eider spoke slightly slower than normal. “Wouldn’t have all this problem with my body.”

Eider found the pair of Beast-kin moving supplies they had recently been bought from Seocuria, the critical supplies necessary to make the explosive powder. Anton did not like giving the Seocurian Empire any money, even a copper coin, but this was necessary. Graterious did sell the necessary ingredients, those they could not get themselves, but they only had a portal in Boreana and it would be suspicious for cartloads of materials to enter Mezot’s room.

“Here they are!” Eider announced happily. “Fuzo and Unathi.”

The two Beast-kin heard their name calls and stopped moving the small chests. Fuzo was a tall Feline Beast-kin, with a short and bushy tail and ears, Unathi was a slightly shorter shark Beast-kin. He looked identical to the Beast-kin Anton has seen fishing in the Danafra harbour.

“Hello!” Eider waved. “Anton wants to have a chat with you.”

The two shared a worried glance. Anton reminded himself that they had never spoken to him before, the only things they knew about him were what other people told them. He was, unofficially, the leader of Atros, so he should act like it.

“H-Hello.” Fuzo stammered out. Immediately his ears pulled back and down slightly, the same as Kal when she was nervous. “Lord Anton. How are you this day?”

“I’m not a lord.” Anton kept his voice calm and soft. “But I am doing well.”

Both of the Beast-kin glanced at Cetina and Rasha standing either side. Both cut an imposing figure for different reasons.

“I wished to discuss the job that Jeff assigned you the other day.” Anton nodded to Eider. “When we headed south to deal with the Goblins in the Lumber Mill.”

“Yes.” Unathi could not help but speak with a bit of a snarl. The Beast-kin’s mouth forced him so. “I thought we did a good job with that.”

Anton caught Unathi’s panicked glance at Rasha. He raised his hand before the shark Beast-kin could speak. “I think you two did an excellent job. And that’s why I’m here.”

Eider’s hairless eyebrows bounced up once, confusing the two Beast-kin even further.

“I have two bodyguards.” Anton nodded to Cetina and Rasha. “But I need extra forces that will be under my command. You two performed very well, and you listened to Eider’s instructions and orders.”

“They…” Fuzo hesitated. “They made sense?” He bit his lower lip. “Don’t go anywhere that’s slippery, and a few places where those Goblin things might be hiding.”

“I never thought they’d look so ugly.” Unathi shut his mouth shut when he realised he had spoken out of turn.

This is always going to be a problem. Maybe there’s really nothing I can do to stop it, only make it easier on them.

“They are hideous.” Anton nodded in agreement. “But, again, that is not what I wanted to discuss. I wanted to know if either of you two were interested in working under Eider as part of my personal retinue. You will be given the best equipment and training that we can possibly provide. Normally you would not need to worry yourselves with something like clearing out those Goblins but you will be working with the normal soldiers, just you report to Eider who reports to me, rather than the normal chain of command.”

The two Beast-kin appeared to understand, even though Anton had used some words and phrases that no uneducated slave could possibly understand.

“And there’s a bit more food in it for you as well.” Anton said. “Can’t have good soldiers without having them fed.”

Anton mentally sighed lightly as the two became very excited by the prospect. In Atros they were hardly starved for food, but food was essentially the only form of reward they knew. And less beatings, of course.

“Of course!” Fuzo exclaimed. “We’d be delighted.”

“More of that Razor Pig meat.” Uranthis rubbed his stomach. “That stuff is so good.”

“I knew you two were good.” Eider patted their shoulders. “I knew you wouldn’t embarrass me.” Eider’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Right?”

You actually thought that this might look bad on you? Nothing about this is formal.

“This will be a good start. If either of you,” Anton turned to Cetina and Rasha. “If any of you think of people that might be a good fit, let me know. I don’t want a bloated force but I’ll need more than just two.”

“I’ll let Jeff and Jonathan know that...This has started.” Eider smiled. “So if they ask you…”

“I’ll confirm it. Just don’t promise a prospective person something that might not be within my ability. No bribery.”

All three nodded.

“From now on you’ll now be excused from your normal duties on the condition that you spend most of your time practicing and building up your strength.” Anton gestured to Rasha. “You won’t be as strong as her but I want you all in top condition. That means you, Eider, as well. On top of studying how to read.”

Eider pretended to pout but still agreed.

“We’ll need to hire someone from Bebbezzar to teach tactics and strategy…” Anton shrugged and looked north. “I’ll leave you three to it. Eider, if you need help or guidance let me know. Now, I need to speak with Umikgruid about this monstrosity that Verona is having them build. See how much this is costing me.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 19 - Thundering Hooves

Chapter 184:

“This building is a little much.” Anton rubbed his chin. “It’s not going to be too ostentatious, is it?”

“Probably.” Umikgruid laughed. “But it needs to be. At least that’s what Lady Verona said.”

Anton stood at the edge of the Sovereign Palace’s construction site, one of the largest buildings to be built in Atros. Though the Dwarves were working tirelessly to expand and develop their own holdings they had not forgotten about the lands above. Anton had expressed, to the best of his ability, that building housing and defences took precedence over this building, but the Dwarves wanted to continue regardless. The lower level had almost been completed, using thick trunks of wood and cut stone from underground, and it looked even larger than he had been first told.

“It will be impressive, that’s for sure.”

A series of tables and chairs, built for Dwarven height, lay near the active construction site. A large sheet of paper lay unfurled on one, a detailed blueprint of the Sovereign palace. Anton recognised some of the drawing detailing an expansion and a large rear garden, specifically the lack of modesty in the design.

Verona, standing nearby, seemed to pick up on his discovery.

“What?” Verona shrugged. She folded her arms over her loose winter clothes. “Might as well make it impressive right now, yes? Won’t it be more difficult to expand it once it’s done, right Umikgruid?”

“Perhaps.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “Depends how you build it. But Dwarves wouldn’t build something that would require tearing down just to make it bigger.”

Kal tugged on Anton’s sleeve. “Perhaps it’s best that we’re doing this when we don’t have to worry about paying the Dwarves. I’m sure this doesn’t come cheap.”

Umikgruid nodded slowly. “Certainly not. But our generation will honour-”

“Stop!” Cetina yelled.

Cetina drew her sword, Rasha lowered her halberd and took a strong stance, as a man ran towards them. He held a piece of paper in his hand, nothing that would be inherently dangerous, but the speed at which he ran was worrying, so too were the thick and loose winter clothing, clothing that could easily harbour a hidden weapon. Anton was still only human, a knife could still easily kill him. Or a small hidden crossbow. His close brush with death in Qaiviel was more than sufficient.

“Sorry.” The man quickly caught his breath, puffs of steamy vapour escaped his mouth. “I was ordered to deliver this message to you. One of the communication pens began moving and wrote this.”

Anton knew the people that were looking over the communication were quite old. It allowed them to contribute, in a fashion, after their bodies had become too old and frail to help with construction or harvesting. He didn’t mind that they essentially used it as an excuse to take a nap or gossip, spending their time making trinkets, so long as they did their job.

“Are you their official messenger?” Anton asked. He reached for the paper but Cetina stopped him with a simple push back with her wrist on his.

“No.” The young man replied. “I was on the way to the eastern farms when they told me to give you this.”

“Thank you.” Cetina took the roll of paper. “You can go return to your duties.”

The young man didn’t know exactly what to do, requiring a silent signal from Verona to leave. He quickly realised his mistake and fled as fast as he could.

“Reminds me of that kid from the dock.” Verona giggled. “Except he was staring at my chest, rather than at Cetina in fear.”

Cetina’s armour does hide some of her curves but not that many.

Anton quickly glanced at the women surrounding him.

Seems that I’m surrounded by them. Not that that’s a bad thing, far from it…

“What does it say?” Anton asked, focusing his attention at the present.

Cetina unrolled the paper. Almost immediately her eyebrows furrowed, she didn’t know how to read well and a brief lesson from Mezot wasn’t about to fix that.

“Um…” Cetina’s harsh stance evaporated, replaced by a sheepish and nervous one. “Kal? Can you read this? There are a lot of big words on this that I can’t read.”

Kal took the paper with a smile. She held it out, like it was a decree to be proclaimed to the masses. “Let’s see…A message from Duchess Belinda. She wants us to meet her on the far western border.”

“Sounds like those Centaurs are acting up sooner than he’d hoped,” Anton said softly. He noticed Rasha lean to Cetina’s ear and ask her a question, only to receive a light shrug in return.

“Are we sure about going back?” Verona asked, planting a hand on her hip. “Leo’s not exactly…”

“No.” Anton shook his head. “He’s not exactly the most trustworthy man.”

A silence fell over them. Rasha and Umikgruid shared a glance, they had not witnessed Queen Lila’s murder.

“But I think we should still see what they have to say. If Qaiviel falls we’re going to have a lot of trouble getting resources and people, even though we’re going to have more and more Beast-kin.”

“There’s no point in letting the people die because of Leo.” Anton sighed. “Does it say what she wants?”

“It doesn’t.” Kal passed the paper to Anton. “But it definitely sounds like Leo will be there.”

Anton quickly read the letter. It did indeed sound like Leo would be present, that Duchess Belinda was just facilitating the meeting.

“We still have that land we’re supposed to receive,” Verona added softly.

“You own land as well?” Rasha asked, she waved towards the center of Atros. “Beyond all of this, of course.”

“I don’t own this land-”

“You kind of do.” Verona sniggered. “If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t be here. So it is, in a way.”

“Maybe.” Anton shrugged. “But it’s probably not a good idea to leave a king waiting. Especially one as unstable as Leo.”

Cetina raised her hand before Anton could take a step. “We’re not just going to let three of us go with you. Not after what happened last time.” Cetina’s hand inadvertently reached for her leg, where she had been shot several times. “So we’ll be sending Human, Dark Elf and Dwarven warriors through first.”

Cetina looked at Umikgruid. “If you’re willing to lend us a few. If they’re building a wall then they’re going to need builders. And no one is better at building than the Dwarves.”

Umikgruid stammered, slowly nodding and stroking his beard, a faint redness to his cheeks.

Buttering up is a part of doing business. I felt like that’s what Duran was doing a lot, especially when we first met. Lots of praise and flowery words, but you’re getting to the heart of the matter too.

A quick glance confirmed Anton’s suspicions, especially the faint wink from Cetina’s good eye.

“Calo and Sheso should be able to lead a small force. I’d like to bring the Beast-kin with us, but that’s going to piss off the Qaiviel soldiers a lot. Even if they don’t officially follow the tenants of The Holy Father, they’re still going to have some severe prejudice. It was bad enough when Kal came here.”

Kal glumly nodded.

“And we don’t have anywhere near enough rifles to be intimidating.”

“By summer we should have a lot of those things.” Umikgruid quickly interjected. “And thousands of those small bullets, if that’s what they were called.”

“Then we’ll have enough strength to stand on our own.” Anton flexed his hand. “So, let’s go see what the King of Qaiviel wants. Oh. Verona?”

“Yes?” Verona raised a silver brow. “I’ll get some blood before we go. And I know that my power isn’t well like in Qaiviel…I don’t like it that much, even though it’s really useful. If only Jira had been a little nicer about it.”

“Not that…Well, that. But I want that feather cloak that you’ve made.” Anton smiled. “Time to show the nobles of Qaiviel that we aren’t just some mercenary hicks.”

“If only I had more than one.” Verona sighed.

---[]---

Anton waited until several people had returned through the portal before stepping through himself. He wouldn’t allow Cetina to step through first, the reason was obvious and Cetina secretly appreciated it. Rasha, and other Beast-kin soldiers, waited outside the portal, ready to step through at a moment’s notice. He couldn’t quite read their expression, he knew he would have been more than conflicted if he was a Beast-kin ordered to help a human kingdom.

The flash of white receded and Cetina’s armored gauntlet pulled him free. They stood not in a building, as was almost customary for the portals, but outside under the shade of a large tree. The Atros soldiers formed a rough perimeter, thankfully following basic defensive tenets of keeping their ranged soldiers behind those with shields. He noticed a glare from Cetina towards one soldier but neither said anything. However, they were not alone. Duchess Belinda stood before him, alongside Alfred and a few dozen heavily armored guards. Their armour and weapons were better than his human and Dwarven warriors, far more so than the Dark Elves, but Anton wondered if they were as well trained. There was something about the way they held their weapons, the way they held themselves, that told him they were inexperienced, fresh recruits. There was also the colour scheme. Not the colour or raw metal but a dull green covering the body of their armour with a bright red on their helmets. Anton had not seen this colour scheme for a Knight Order. But he doubted they were actually an order, Duchess Belinda now had a vast fortune but no authority to create something like that. A more elite guard was not.

“Anton.” Belinda bowed her head. “It is good to see you again.”

“Same to you…” Anton moved forward as more people arrived through the portal, Verona and Kal with them. “How has Qaiviel been faring? We haven’t had much word from Qaiviel.”

Though we might have heard something in Alcanares.

“Things have been going well.” Belinda smiled. Her eyes were drawn to the brightly colored feathers forming the cloak. “May I ask what this is? I’ve never seen feathers with such a wide variety of colors.”

“It’s something my wife made.” Anton raised his arm and pulled Verona underneath. She wrapped the edge around her neck like a scarf. The feathers themselves made no sign they were about to tear free or scratch her skin. “She’s very talented.”

“I’ve always wanted to make something of my own.” Verona smiled. “And I think I’ve done very well.”

Belinda slowly nodded. “I agree. I know that many nobles would be willing to pay a high price for something like this.”

“Rainbow Birds only exist in the Kar Kingdom.” Alfred said. His brows furrowed. “So…”

“Leo already knows that’s where we are.” Anton shrugged. “Telling him that anyone that settles there will be killed is more than enough to satisfy anyone’s suspicion. But soon it won’t matter if they know. Firstly, they’ll have to go through Qaiviel and your territory. I’m sure that it’s only grown stronger since the civil war.”

Belinda grimaced and motioned for him to follow her to the tree. Soldiers from both sides moved with them, each eyeing off the other, especially the Qaiviel soldiers to the non-humans. “As well as could be expected. My territory is doing well, but the rest…”

“People aren’t taking the abolition of The Holy Father well?”

“No.” Belinda almost smiled. “Especially here in the west. They were a very faithful people, and now everything they believe in has been ripped away from them. Leo-King Leo is not very popular here.”

“I imagine not.” Anton pointed to the west. “I presume this is the wall that Leo wanted completed.”

“Yes…” Belinda forced her face to remain flat. “It will be a monumental undertaking, to say the least.”

“If it can be completed within a generation.” Alfred quietly added.

The wall, such as it was, was nothing more than a thin broken line of stone dividing the green, fertile grasslands of Qaiviel from a blasted, desolate hellscape beyond. The grass stopped abruptly a few meters past the wall but not as a smooth line. Some magical force prevented any form of plant life from extending any further, trespassing in the lands beyond. A mountain range lay either side some miles away, forming a rough corridor towards the desolate land. While the lands of Qaiviel were bright the desolate lands looked darker somehow, deep blue arcs of lightning darted between the low slung black clouds, producing a sound far too soft for lightning so close.

“The Conflagration?” Anton asked aloud. “That? That is where the Centaurs live?”

“And a great many other terrifying creatures.” Alfred moved close to Anton, he heard many weapons shift in readiness. Alfred pointed to the north of the division. “See those floating rocks? Those with the red crystals?”

At first Anton had thought that it was merely a trick of the light, that his eyes were seeing shadows cast against the mountains, but now that Alfred had pointed them out they were impossible to miss. Large rocks, easily the size of a house, floated and slowly spun across the entirety of the Conflagration. They clustered near the mountains, tight formations which slowly spun around each other. Large red crystals grew out of the bottom, glowing faintly with an unknown magical energy.

“I can now,” Anton grumbled. “Didn’t see them before.”

“They’re Lightning Pods. At least that’s what the locals call them.”

“People live here?” Kal asked, her voice muffled slightly by the mask. “Near this strange place? Are there…Issues, arising from being so close?”

“Only if you eat food from the Conflagration itself,” Alfred said calmly. “It does a human body no good.”

Alfred pointed to four villages near the border, some distance away from the ruined wall. Anton was surprised they were larger than Atros was initially, surrounded by dozens more smaller hamlets and countless smaller farmsteads, all with small fields of crops and fruit-bearing trees, some even with a coral with some fat cows and sheep. Despite being so close to the Conflagration they seemed prosperous.

“So long as you eat plants from this side they’re fine.”

“Transformation?” Verona asked.

Anton felt his dragonoid feet more acutely than normal.

“No. But it will kill them eventually.”

“And the Centaurs live here,” Anton said. “No wonder they want to leave. They must have some immunity…What do these Lightning Pods do?”

“At night they release energy.” Alfred shrugged. “As lightning. Anything struck is killed. And they are just one of the many horrors in the Conflagration. One of the reasons why our expeditions to remove the Centaur threat have failed.”

“And yet they still live in that place,” Verona added.

“I imagine those villages don’t last long when the Centaurs invade,” Anton said dryly.

“No.” Alfred pursed his lips. “But they are prepared as best they can be.”

Which is fodder, at best.

“The local lords settle them here?” Anton asked.

Verona scoffed. “I bet they don’t like moving into a place where there are corpses and ruined houses.”

Alfred’s face fell flat. “The Centaurs don’t leave anything in their wake. The people here probably don’t know they’re….Well, what choice do they have? They can’t just leave of their own volition.”

“Nor to avoid helping with the construction.” Belinda pointed to a large camp near the center of the small broken line of the wall. “King Leo has ordered every available person to assist.”

The camp was easily as large as King Leo’s forces during the civil war. However the tents were far more spread out, disorganized and looked like they had been there for some time. Some wooden buildings had emerged, specifically a sort of latrine, not something that would be built if they had just arrived. At the center he spied five wooden buildings situated close together. These were surrounded by dismounted knights in black armour.

“I see,” Anton said. “I suppose we shouldn’t wait too much longer.” Anton looked at Belinda. “Is there anything that I should be aware of this time?”

Belinda’s lips twitched. “No. At least nothing that I’m aware of. You don’t pose a threat to Leo’s rule.”

“At least for now.”

A convoy of open carriages had been prepared for them. Anton rode with Belinda, and his escorts, while the Atros and Belinda’s soldiers rode in others or jogged alongside. Except for the Dwarves, they were given preferential seating.

“Those soldiers.” Kal began, sitting on Anton’s left. “Are they a new Knight Order?”

Verona scoffed, resting her chin on her hand whilst leaning against Anton. “A gift from Leo, perhaps? In return for your cooperation and silence?”

She glanced to Cetina, standing beside Kal, her feet spread slightly apart for stability, with her helmet pulled down. She could see relatively well from behind the visor, Anton had tried it on once, and her sword was drawn and ready, resting against the side of the carriage.

“No.” Belinda sighed. “But I have been given permission to form my own…What is it called, Alfred?”

“Personal retinue.” Alfred softly replied. He sat next to Belinda, opposite Anton, but his attention was clearly focused outside. “For defensive purposes, especially since we’re near the Deweth Clans.”

“And are they acting up?” Anton asked. “I know they haven’t tried to go through the forest again but they might try the old fashioned way.”

“How is Marcus doing?” Verona asked.

“He’s doing well,” Alfred said. “As well as can be expected. He and the other Knight Orders on the border are keeping a vigilant watch. Last I’ve heard they haven’t seen any movement, which is a little strange. They should be trying something. It is winter, after all.”

“A personal retinue?” Anton shifted the topic back. “As many as you can afford? And that’s going to be quite a bit now, yes?”

“It is. I have received all of the confiscated money and land. And you?”

“Money yes. But not the land.”

Anton studied one of Belinda’s soldiers more closely, alongside the Dwarves with their innate curiosity towards anything metal. Overall they wore an improved version of Cetina’s armour when they first met, with a good array of weapons and armour. Their crossbows were of a good quality too. Belinda…Alfred knew of good suppliers and that their soldiers needed to be taken care of. It would do nothing for their morale to know they were fodder.

“I think that might also be addressed today,” Belinda said absentmindedly. “It was something that was promised to you, and Kings should not go back on their word.”

No one said a word as they continued trundling along the bumpy dirt road. The peasants in the field stopped to watch them for only a moment, a tiny break from their endless toil in the fields. Anton quickly noticed something; only women were present. He saw a young boy but no male over the age of five.

“Must have taken everyone,” Anton mumbled. “Are the soldiers and Knights helping?”

“I don’t know,” Alfred said. “But if Leo is serious he would.”

As they approached a village a small cadre of guards approached, more militia, to stop them. There were no men but it didn’t diminish the threat they posed. They wore equipment more befitting a life at the fringes of civilization; thick padded cloth armour, whatever scraps of metal had been fastened to their armour, a thick reinforced padded helmet, and everyone wielded a long spear, more of a pike.

If they’re going against Centaurs than that’s the weapon that I would use. Not much point in a shield if they’re fighting against fast-moving horses. To be fair it’ll be pretty useful against Goblins and wolves too. Wait…

“Alfred,” Anton said. Alfred raised his hand as the militia spoke with the leader of the carriage convoy and quickly allowed them passage.

“Sorry.” Alfred smiled lightly. “Just wanted to make sure they didn’t try to stop us for too long. Though people can be forced to live out here, it can also attract the desperate and the criminal.”

“Would be stupid to attack this many people,” Verona said idly, watching the pleasant grassland scenery roll by.

“Do the Centaurs use bows or javelins?” Anton asked. “If they do we’ll need to increase the size of the wall.”

“Beyond them simply jumping over?” Kal asked.

“I doubt they’d be able to create catapults or siege towers.” Anton trailed off. “Could they?”

“No,” Alfred said, much to Anton’s relief. “They barely have any technology. They use spears and the odd javelin. But they prefer to get in close.”

“But they’re still horses,” Anton said.

His attention was momentarily diverted to a house in the center of the village. A line of soldiers stood out the front, all with expectant looks on their faces. A young woman emerged, the typical look for a peasant woman, and pulled the next soldier in as another left. He was busy buckling his belt, with a relieved expression on his face, and almost ran into another soldier.

“So if they get wounded they’re pretty much finished.” Anton continued. “A horse just isn’t the same after breaking its leg.”

“And that’s why they fight with such ferocity.” Alfred followed Anton’s glance and almost smirked. “They know what happens should they fall.”

A gathering of women approached the convoy, offering themselves for rather modest prices. Some soldiers, even some from Atros, appeared tempted but at their speed, and a few sharp looks from their commanders, convinced them to politely decline.

“Everywhere you go.” Verona sighed. “Does this happen everywhere in the world?”

“Sometimes.” Alfred shrugged. “I’m sure they’re doing well. I just wonder how many have husbands that are working at the wall. And that don’t know they’re doing this.”

Anton kept quiet as they moved through the village.

A large detachment of Knights, wearing black armour, approached their column. Again they spoke with the leading elements but didn’t try and stop them. As they rode around some spotted Anton and gave a quick wave.

“You’re popular amongst the Black Riders?” Belinda smiled. “Then that’s a good sign.”

“I wonder if we could make a Knight Order.” Verona wondered aloud. “We’ve got enough money from Leo to start one. They…They can be the ones to open the chests though.”

“Maybe a few Knights,” Alfred spoke with professionalism. “But raising and training a man long enough to become a Knight is not cheap.”

“Certainly not.” Anton patted Cetina’s leg, much to her confusion. “But Cetina would be our best bet.”

Cetina laughed, reaching over and patting his head. “Not if you want me to stay as your bodyguard. It’s bad enough keeping you safe, and keeping a bunch of prospective recruits away.”

“Oh?” Verona leant onto Anton, propping herself up and leaning on Anton’s head. “Who would they be?”

Cetina smiled. “I’m not telling.”

As the two began to chat, almost bicker, Anton’s thoughts drifted to the Black Rider’s Knights escorting them, specifically their cost.

Compared to a Knight, a rifleman is so much cheaper. It doesn’t take years of training, just a body and a few days. And bullets are very, very cheap. Comparatively. Imagine how infuriating it would be, for someone that’s spent their entire life training to be a gallant Knight to be taken out by a peasant, or a Beast-kin slave, with a piece of metal and chemistry. We can spend the money we didn’t waste on training someone for years, and not being productive, on fantastic armour and equipment. I wonder what sort of uniform we’ll end up making? Probably a mix of Arachnid silk and Dwarven worked metal. Oh, and those bright feathers for our elite soldiers. I know that’ll keep Eider and Verona happy.

Images floated through Anton’s mind, imagining the Atros army looking near-identical to those of the First or Second World War Except with large ears, and tails. And some being well over three meters tall and able to fling someone high into the air, should they desire. And then there were the mages.

That’s a thought. Our mages, both Principle and Glyph, would stand out if they were given radically different armour. No bright robes, maybe an armband or a different helmet or cap. Will they like their staves and charms being changed to mimic a rifle? I’d better ask Mezot the-

A nudge from Verona brought him back to the present. She, Kal and Cetina were looking at him, waiting for a response.

“Sorry.” Anton rubbed their legs. “I was miles away.”

Verona laughed. “I bet you were. I bet you were.”

No one explained what they were discussing, nor did they speak through their rings. Anton decided to leave it be, as it couldn’t be that important. Surely.

---[]---

King Leo waited inside the largest permanent wooden building near the ruined wall. The Black Riders ensured that no one impeded their entry into the camp, not that there was as they looked more like soldiers and not like armed militia, like they had during the civil war.

“Hello!” Leo shouted loudly before the carriage had even stopped, catching everyone’s attention. “It’s good to see you all.”

Now Leo dressed like a King at peace; he wore no armour, instead bright and immaculately tailored clothes suitable for a king, his face was very well kept and his beard short and trimmed. Anton noted that he wore the golden crown with pride. A golden sword hung at his hip, one that Anton knew would not be effective in combat. That would be left to the people at his side, the numerous Knights wielding swords and shields, behind those men and women with menacing bows and barbed arrows. Anton could not miss the giant of a man, Bernard, standing by his side, more of a human bear stuffed into a suit of black metal armour.

“Your majesty.” Anton smiled, forcing away the memories of Lila’s corpse away, the blood pooling around the stones. “I am glad to see you out of armour, and into something more befitting of a king.”

Leo smiled. Anton didn’t care if it was blatant flattery, if it made things easier he would say it.

“It does.” Leo waited until the carriage had stopped before waving them forward.

As Anton rose Cetina leant close to his ear. “It doesn’t sound like he’s a King.”

“Let him think that we’re his friends,” Anton said softly. “It’ll work better for us.”

He patted Cetina’s armored shoulder before stepping down from the carriage.

“My…” Leo smirked. “What are you wearing? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Something my wife made.” Anton again reached for Verona. She was more hesitant to smile and act jovial around Leo. She too could not just forget the sight of his sister drowning in her own blood at his feet. “It is one of a kind though.”

Leo simply nodded and looked over his shoulder at the Dark Elves and the Dwarves that had travelled with them. Anton didn’t know what to think that something so bright and colorful had been completely ignored…Then again, what would Leo have to say other than he wanted it? And Anton was not someone that Leo could just demand anything from.

“Dark Elves and Dwarves.” Leo seemed rather impressed. “To imagine you have them at your beck and call.”

“I wouldn’t say it like that.” Anton smiled. He waited for everyone to gather before continuing. “Duchess Belinda said that you required our aid.”

“I cannot offer you something to eat?” Leo asked nonchalantly. “You have surely come a long way.”

“Perhaps later.” Anton glanced towards the ruins of the wall, dodging the issue. “I was told you required help with the border wall. Are the Centaurs proving to be an issue already?”

Leo glumly nodded. “They are.” Leo glanced at Bernard. “Much sooner.”

Guess Marcus really was sent home. Hopefully they’re home. Can’t see that young boy, but he might just be inside.

“So how can we be of assistance?”

Leo looked to towards the wall and the Conflagration beyond. “Could you walk with me?”

Anton glanced back. Verona had all of her pots filled with fresh blood. No one offered any objections, silent or through the rings, but he could still tell they wanted him to be careful.

“Of course.”

Leo began walking, his long coat was only a few centimeters from the dry grass, and waited until Anton joined him. Anton was glad Verona had taken his measurements accurately as the feathered cloak stopped about at his mid-calf, where flecks of grass and dirt would not dirty the inside. Behind their collective guards followed closely behind, each keeping a little space between one another. The Dwarves and Dark Elves attracted most of the attention but the armour of the human Atros soldiers caught some eyes. They had never seen such armour before, Anton wondered what they would think if they had to fight those that wore the Arachnid silk gambeson.

“Things have been going well?” Anton asked. “King Leo?”

Leo waved him down. “Please just call me Leo. Too many people call me that, it’s starting to grate of my nerves.”

We’re hardly close friends. Especially after what you’ve done.

“But things are going well.” Leo gently waved to a commander of the normal soldiers. “No rebellions from The Church, and Bebbezzar has retreated for the winter. But that was hardly an organised assault. Some splinter forces looking to gain resources. Not an organised invasion. I doubt they’d be capable of anything like that for a long time.”

“And yet things have become worse?” Anton asked, using the small talk to observe the camp. It was remarkably similar to the previous camp, except these soldiers and Knights looked far more relaxed. The looming spectre of the Conflagration did nothing to dampen their spirits. Perhaps, more importantly, they did not appear to be working on the wall.

“In Bebbezzar they have.” Leo glanced at Cetina. “If that was possible.”

Cetina kept her face flat, but he knew that she was listening very intently.

“Turns out there is one member of the royal family left.” Leo shook his head. “A young princess, I’m told, stuck in the last city held by the royals.” Leo looked to the north. “Once they owned an entire Kingdom and now-”

“Leo!” A voice cried out from behind. Everyone readied their weapons, Verona held her hand over her pots. Leo’s face dropped for a moment, he recovered before he turned around. “Why are you leaving without me?”

The source was a woman, running towards Leo. She was tall, perhaps a little shorter than Cetina and wore extravagant clothes like Leo, even a small silver crown on her head. Long brown locks flew back as she ran, behind her a cadre of plain-clothed women rushed to catch up.

“Forgive me, dear.” Leo smiled as the forces parted and allowed her to him. “I was a little distracted by our new guest.”

Anton held Leo’s eye, Leo dared not look at Verona or Cetina.

“Well…” The woman sighed. “You should have told me. I wanted to ask you about what you wanted for dinner tonight.”

Leo forced another smile. “Duke Anton. This is my wife, Roseanne Retora.”

Roseanne offered her hand to Anton. He understood he was supposed to kiss it, he hadn’t been instructed in proper Qaiviel royal etiquette, nor did he have time to ask. He quickly kissed her hand, Roseanne seemed happy.

“I’m sorry that we missed the wedding,” Anton said softly. “I’m sure that it was a fantastic event.”

Roseanne smiled at Leo. “It was a simple wedding.” She held his hand, just for a moment he hesitated. “But my dear Leo had only just finished dealing with his traitorous brother.”

This is that Ogre family? She doesn’t look that bad, even without the makeup and clothes. What? Does Leo not like tall women? Nothing wrong with them. Nothing at all.

“It was a terrible time,” Anton said. “But Leo has brought stability to a damaged and hurt kingdom.”

“Leo has told me of that battle.” Roseanne’s face softened. “To think that his own family tried to kill him. And…” Roseanne shook her head. “To think they killed his sister after they had been beaten. Such…Petty revenge.”

Leo kept his face perfectly flat.

Guess that’s the story we’re going with.

“But, Leo dear.” Roseanne kissed his temple. “I wanted to know if you wanted battered quail or turtle for dinner tonight.”

Leo kept his annoyance hidden. “I think quail for tonight. Anton, do you think you’ll be staying for the night?”

“I’m afraid that we are needed elsewhere.” Anton bowed his head. “But we will do everything that we can.”

Roseanne frowned. “Leo. Who are these people? Are they not Qaiviel subjects?”

“Not entirely. They are…” Leo searched for a simple way to put their relationship. “Specialists. People from beyond Qaiviel that were instrumental in defeating my brother and the Church.”

Roseanne threw her nose into the air. “Never liked them…But they didn’t save your sister, did they?”

Leo’s eye twitched. “No. No, they did not.”

Don’t you dare try and put that on us.

“But neither did I, nor any of my soldiers.” Leo took a deep, calming breath. “It is something that I regret every day.”

Roseanne’s face softened. “Forgive me. I made you remember something unpleasant.”

Leo smiled and held her hand. “It’s alright. It’s alright. But that reminds me, Anton, I have only given you half of your reward.”

Still don’t know if that gold’s a trap.

Leo looked to his permanent structure in the camp. A young boy ran out, carrying a roll of paper in his hands. It was Noah, the young page from the now destroyed Golden Roar. His clothes were no longer the bright golden cloak, something now befitting a servant of the King but he retained a little of his former colours, even if it was only a sash around his chest.

“Your majesty.” Leo bowed, holding the roll of paper high. “The deed that you were promised.”

“Deed?” Verona whispered.

“I was unable to give you land when you departed.” Leo continued, throwing a quick smile to Verona. “And a Duke of Qaiviel cannot be without land to call their own.”

“Indeed.” Anton smiled, much to Roseanne’s confusion. “But we had to leave before that could be sorted.”

“Oh.” Roseanne returned Anton’s smile. “What is your heraldry? I do not see one on you or your companions?”

“They were only granted their rank after the civil war had concluded.” Leo continued. “And their future land was still under the control of those that had sided with Harold. It took some time to flush them all out.”

“I see…” Roseanne smiled, unwilling to push the issue further, for now at least.

Leo passed Anton two rolls of paper. Anton was hesitant to take them but knew he couldn’t show it, and took it with the flattest expression he could. One roll had a large wax seal of the royal family. The other had none. Anton opened that first. On it lay two maps, one of Qaiviel as a whole, the other of a small section near the coast on the south-east of the kingdom. It looked to be a small town on a raised plateau with a small dock. Overall Anton was rather impressed with the diversity of activities the land offered, but of course this was just a map, a rather rough one at that.

“Duke Anton. I bequeath to you the land of Hardheim. It is a small piece of land but holds lots of potential. It used to belong to a middling priest.” Leo smiled like a predator hiding in wait. “But he, obviously, doesn’t have that land anymore. There is still a church there, a small one at that, but I leave it to you to do with it as you please.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Anton bowed his head, playing along with the proceedings. “I will do everything in my power to make it a truly prosperous land. I presume that I will have to pay taxes and ensure I have levies for any of your wars?”

Roseanne frowned. Anton knew what he was asking should be common knowledge, but Anton didn’t possess that.

“Indeed. But what that entail’s I’ll leave to you.” Leo said. “It’ll be some time before they are at a strength before they can help and not be treated as fodder by the enemy. Or our own forces.”

True. They should be better than just militia grade soldiers. With all of the money we received we should be able to make it a truly prosperous land. Also, it’ll make people think that my focus is there, doubly so with so much wealth being spent and reinvested, and not anywhere else. Like beyond a forest.

“I will ensure that my soldiers will be of the highest quality,” Anton said.

Leo smirked. “I had been meaning to give that to you, but you are difficult to get a hold of.” His eyes flicked to Belinda and Alfred. “But you’re here now. And that’s what matters most.”

“Could you please show me the wall?” Anton looked towards the Conflagration. “We must get it completed as soon as possible.”

“I shall return to my room,” Roseanne announced. “I shall see you for dinner, your majesty.”

Leo gave a curt nod and began walking, Roseanne turned away with her female servants in tow, Leo slowly following after her.

“She seems alright,” Verona whispered.

Belinda made a noise, catching her attention. “Their family have always been loyal to Qaiviel. A little boisterous. And rumours are they are great fighters.”

“That they are,” Leo grumbled. He rubbed his shoulders, Anton didn’t ask exactly where he had received them.

As they exited the camp Anton saw the work being undertaken. Men, and young boys, worked tirelessly to lay stones to repair and extend the wall. Their clothes were soaked with sweat and everyone worked with a stooped back. Anton didn’t know where they were quarrying the stone from but it wasn’t anywhere nearby. To the south, he heard the rattle of a large cart filled with raw and uncut stone, driven by four large Ix. Columns of carts travelled to and from the mountain, forming a loose chain of empty and fully loaded carts.

“Are the people being paid for their work?” Anton asked.

“They are,” Leo said calmly. “It’s probably the most money they’ve ever seen in their lives.”

No numbers though…

Several Black Riders and Royal soldiers stood on top of the wall, all watching out to the Conflagration. Most were seated, idling with their small stoves and maintaining their weapon. When one noticed Leo approach a sharp order was given, everyone jumped to attention. Anton heard Bernard grumble, that was enough to drive a sense of fear into them.

“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Leo said as they began ascending the stairs, once it had been stone but those had eroded and had been replaced with wood. “Considerable work.”

“I know that Alfred told me a little bit about this.” Anton followed close behind. “But I still don’t understand why the previous kings have ignored this.”

“Once a wall is built it doesn’t go anywhere.” Verona idly mumbled. “Last time I checked.”

“That is the problem.” Bernard pointed to the villages behind the wall. “They steal the stone. The Centaurs don’t attack every winter, so they forget quickly.”

“And cut stone is good for building a sturdy animal pen,” Alfred added. “Doesn’t rot, like wood.”

“And sometimes they don’t attack for an entire generation.” Leo continued. “Regardless, I will be the one to finish this. So…”

“You want the Dwarves opinion on the wall?”

“And their help.” Leo turned to Umikgruid, at the head of the Dwarves. “Honourable Dwarves, I request your professional opinion on the matter. Though we cannot match your skill I would still like to know what you think.”

Umikgruid glanced at Anton. “Well, if it’s just to keep the Centaur’s out, then this will be more than sufficient. They can’t jump that high, right?”

“Higher than a human,” Bernard replied, he didn’t care that he was speaking with a Dwarf, the only issue was only that he had to crane his neck downwards. “But not as high as this.”

Umikgruid nodded thoughtfully. He and the Dwarves moved to the edge of the wall, they were too short to see over the secondary wall.

“Do they have siege engines?”

“No. Nothing of the sort.”

Umikgruid patted the stone, the surface turned to dust underneath his gentle touch. “Then it should be fine. Well,” Umikgruid nodded to the ends of the wall. “So long as you finish the rest of it.”

“How many Dwarves do you have?” Leo asked.

“How much are you going to pay them?” Anton asked in return. “The work of the Dwarves does not come cheap.”

Leo began to converse with Bernard when a scout whistled loudly. Those on the wall looked to the soldier, standing high on a wooden tower, waving furiously towards the Conflagration. Through the strange shadow, far in the distance, a hundred objects moved towards them, a trail of dirty red dust rising into the air.

“Centaurs!” The scout yelled. “Centaurs approaching the wall!”

“How many?” Leo asked, his hand moved to his sword. He grimaced realising the golden sword would do him little good in a battle, let alone against a creature like a Centaur.

Alfred produced his telescope, the nearby soldiers and Knights marvelled at the piece of precision equipment, the Dwarves seemed only mildly impressed. Alfred’s lips twitched as he counted the approaching Centaurs.

Kal pulled on Anton’s sleeve. “One hundred and thirty.”

Anton used his own eye enhancement, he presumed that Kal had just used that, and observed the approaching Centaurs.

They were nothing like what Anton expected.

The Centaurs were a fusion of man of horse, a powerful horse body and a human torso, but they were much, much larger than the horses Anton expected, nothing like the tales or fantasies of Earth of a slender and majestic creature. If anything they looked like a large draft horse, bred for pulling ploughs and other heavy equipment, but even more muscular. The human half was just as well built, even the females, and rippled with strength with every movement. Anton immediately understood why these were so. If he was a mere peasant, given a spear and pointed towards a wall of Centaurs charging towards him he would flee, after wetting himself.

Their coats were rough and impregnated with the red dust from the Conflagration, their hair was kept short and tied behind their head, less it became an annoyance or a liability in battle. In their hands they wielded long spears tipped with obsidian, red waves ran throughout the stone. Extremely sharp but covered in breaks and fractures, extremely fragile. Against exposed flesh, it would be ideal, not so much against a Knight in full plate armour. No armour adorned their bodies, they ran completely in the nude, except for the females, who wore nothing more than a thin band of cloth across their flat chests.

I wonder if their reproductive organs are the same as a horse. Looks like the males still are.

“One hundred and twenty,” Alfred said, glancing at Leo. “Approximately.”

Bernard nodded to a Black Rider Squire. He blew a small horn, the camp behind burst into life.

“We’ll run them down.” Bernard fastened his helmet. “Those beasts won’t last long against our armour.”

“Can you catch the Centaurs?” Anton leant against the wall, almost knocking a loose stone free. “They don’t look like they have much in the way of armour. And they don’t have a heavy human on their back, wearing even more metal armour.”

Bernard didn’t have a retort.

“But it seems odd for just a hundred to attack,” Anton said. “I’m sure that I could kill them by myself. Hell, a few hundred of your archers could easily deal with this.”

“True…” Leo stroked his beard. “This is nothing like the previous attacks, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Alfred said. He looked for Belinda, standing near the staircase and surrounded by her soldiers. With a nod, they readied their crossbows. Anton didn’t doubt their effectiveness against unarmoured skin.

“So what do you want to do?” Anton asked. “They…Can they use magic?”

“Never seen one that could,” Alfred said.

“Perhaps we should see what they have to say.” Anton offered. “See if they want to do something more than fight.”

Leo, as King, technically still had the final say. He thought deeply on his decisions, looking out to the Centaurs rapidly approaching.

“Let’s see what they have to say,” Leo spoke with authority. “But I don’t want anything to happen to my people, or my guests.” He looked to Bernard. “If they do anything suspicious, you hit them with everything you have.”

---[]---

The Centaurs, as Anton suspected, approached the central camp. It was clear they wanted to talk, it’s not like there weren’t dozens of other ways through the wall. Anton stood just behind Leo, while he stood surrounded by heavy Knights with spears and pikes, archers on the walls. Atros soldiers waited alongside them. The Dark Elves were given lots of room as they stood perfectly still, watching the Centaurs approach without saying a word.

“These Centaurs look pretty tough,” Verona said softly. She tapped Kal’s side. “You okay with this, if things go bad?”

Kal nodded. “If they attack us, then they’ve made their choice.”

Anton caught Alfred’s attention. “Have the Centaur’s ever done something like this?”

Alfred glanced to the wall. Belinda waited on top, still surrounded by her soldiers. It was the safest place for her, the Centaurs would have to climb before they could reach her.

“No. But I’m intrigued what they want to say.”

The Centaurs were less than a minute away. It was quite clear that speed was their main strength in combat, and why Qaiviel hated them so much. Once people were inside the safety of a fortress, or even a city, their threat would be substantially reduced. But outside they would be easy prey. The Centaurs slowed as they approached, allowing a single Centaur to ride forth. This was larger, more muscular than the others. Apart from his size, he wore a simple piece of blue cloth tied tight on his arm. No one else wore anything so vibrant.

I wonder if he won that in combat?

The Centaur flexed his muscles as he approached, glancing back to receive quiet adulation from his fellows. Anton groaned internally at the Centaur’s leadership selection method.

“Are you the King?” The Centaur’s voice was deep, more of a growl, all coming through a confident sneer.

Anton leant close to the girls. “Always with the strong but stupid ones. Right?”

They chuckled but still agreed.

Leo took a step forward but Bernard, correctly, stopped him. “Who…” Leo stopped, took a deep breath and straightened his back. “Who would the King of Qaiviel be speaking with?”

He can’t afford to act like he normally does. Un-Kingly. Maybe that’s just around us? Make us think that we’re his friends, so we won’t do anything against him.

The Centaur beat his chest once, holding the spear tight in his hand. The Knights drew closer to Leo, the numerous archers and crossbowmen shifted so they could strike at a moment’s notice, even Verona and Cetina readied their weapons. The Centaur didn’t seem to care, or notice.

“I am Guchugur, Chosen of Khan Dorgar; Ruler of the Red Wastes, Uniter of the Warherds and Destroyer of the Abaloth.”

I presume that’s some horrifying creature in the Conflagration. Probably powered by whatever’s giving those Lightning Pods the ability to fly. Not to mention there’s probably a thousand other horrors beyond this wall.

Anton looked to his feet, they had yet to cross onto the Conflagration itself. Whether or not it would impact upon his magic he had no idea. Right now he didn’t want to know. At least on the grassy side he could use his magic with impunity.

“And what do the Warherds want with us?” Leo asked.

Alfred gently stroked his chin. “Unification has never happened.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Never.”

A lot of things are changing in this world. Compared to what I have planned, this is nothing.

Guchugur laughed. “Khan Dorgar has decided to grant you human’s mercy. Instead of slaughtering you all, like you deserve-”

Yeah, this one isn’t smart.

“-He is granting you the chance to leave your lands before spring.”

Leo said nothing. It was a little hard to formulate a proper response.

If we have the wall completed they can’t threaten us. Especially if it’s properly manned. But we need to buy some time. Spring sounds like it might be enough, if Leo’s willing to put his soldiers and Knights to work.

Anton stepped through the lines to Leo. “Just pretend you agree.”

“What?”

Guchugur appeared to be growing quickly impatient.

“What are you saying?”

“Play along,” Anton whispered. “Just say you will. We can get the wall finished by then. If you’re willing to put in the effort.”

Thoughts flashed through Leo’s mind as he stepped forward. “My people have no desire to fight anymore. Tell your Khan that we will be gone by the time the snows have melted.”

Guchugur was honestly taken aback. He, nor that other Centaurs, had any idea what to say.

“I didn’t actually expect you to agree,” Guchugur said after some time. “Khan Dorgar said that you humans…”

The Centaurs eyes narrowed, glancing to the ground to his right. There was nothing special about the grass at all.

What’s he thinking about?

Guchugur’s mouth curled up into a smile. “That humans were untrustworthy. That they’d lie and cheat, they’d do anything to win.”

The other Centaurs began to catch on.

“And that, your Majesty, is exactly what I think you’re doing.”

Leo silently clicked his tongue. He clearly wanted to glance at Anton, perhaps glare, but Anton felt it was worth a shot.

“So why even come here?” Bernard asked.

Guchugur laughed. “Khan Dorgar wanted you to know that we’re coming. Now. In the winter, when your people cower in your wooden and stone huts, desperately hoarding what little food you can scavenge.”

Anton stepped to Leo’s side again. “It would have been smarter for them not to say anything and just attack. There might be something more to this.”

“I doubt it. But…” Leo whispered. He turned back to Guchugur. “Tell your Khan that I wish to speak with him. Without his Warherd at his heel. I’m sure there is something to discuss.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” Guchugur raised his weapon. Everyone readied to fire, all waiting for the slightest signal from Leo to attack. Leo kept still and waited for the Centaur to continue. “Your kingdom will fall. You’ve never faced the full might of the Warherds. Maybe one or two at a time, but never all thirty.”

“Th…” Alfred coughed, unable to hide his shock. Many were equally stunned, perhaps a little better composed.

Guchugur only smiled. “We are far stronger than you could possibly imagine.”

There’s no point to this. No strategic or tactical advantage, apart from trying to inspire fear. But that’s going to work against them. We’ll just try and finish the wall early. What else could they possibly be hiding?

Anton looked along the expanse. There was no sign of anything moving across the Conflagration, so it wasn’t some elaborate distraction.

“That’s all that I was told to tell you.” Guchugur smiled. “But if I were to take the head of the King back-”

Anton summoned a large Fire Bomb over his head. The burst of light stunned Guchugur and the other Centaurs, they recoiled from the burst of light, screaming something as their hooves pranced on the ground. The human soldiers were stunned too, those on the wall were unable to see their targets but those near Leo understood that Anton was a mage of some skill.

“You aren’t going to do that.” Anton stepped forward, to just behind the line of Knights, Cetina immediately to his side with Kal and Verona close behind. He was certain he heard a call from Calo or Sheso but he didn’t have time to look back.

“What?” Guchugur slowly slunk back.

Well, I’ve put my foot in it now. Just keep going.

“You aren’t going to get the King’s head today,” Anton said. He was certain Leo threw him an odd look. “Nor any other day.”

Anton threw the Fire Bomb over the Centaurs and detonated. The showers of flames struck the centaurs, burning their thick coats and sending them into a panic. Guchugur tried to order them to stand their ground but there was no point, people weren’t willing to listen to instructions when their body was burning.

“So.” Anton summoned a field of Lightning Bombs and lowered them in front of Guchugur. “You’re going to tell your Khan that if he tries to attack I’ll destroy your entire herd.”

Guchugur’s face hardened, his anger overcoming the fear of the lightning bombs.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Anton asked.

“Are you alright?” Verona asked through the ring.

“I’m fine,” Anton replied. “Just back me up if things get hectic.”

“Don’t go bad,” Cetina said sternly.

Those words cut through something running through Anton’s head, clearing his thoughts slightly. Ever since he had transformed he had been feeling more aggressive. Normally he’d kept his head but it had landed him right in the middle of attention.

Guchugur snarled. “If-”

“Every single one!” Anton created as many Fire Rings as he could and released them as far as he could into the Conflagration. He felt nothing different from releasing in the red dust, not even as it began to glow red from the impending release of heat.

“I’ll destroy every single Centaur in your rotten realm!”

The fleeing Centaurs had already reached the area that was rapidly burning. Most were still concerned with their burning hide and not what was occurring beneath them.

Sorry that you’re being caught up in this-

Over a dozen pillars of flame erupted into the sky. Guchugur remained completely still, stunned by what was happening. Bernard grunted and ordered the Knights to form a shield around Leo to protect him against any falling debris.

-But an example needs to be made.

Anton could see nothing against the bright flame but he could hear the screams of the Centaurs over the roaring flame. His mind briefly thought about those in the camp and the villages behind the wall, to see massive pillars of light against the dark Conflagration. Would they think it was a god? Or a terrible omen?

The light and heat receded. Craters now filled the Conflagration, turning the red dirt into a dark obsidian. All of the Centaurs bar Guchugur were in a mixture of excruciating pain, writhing on the baking ground. Anton normally had reservations about hurting horses, the unfortunate causality in war of this era, but not these. These wanted nothing more than to destroy the people of Qaiviel and everything beyond. And that meant Atros.

“How?” Guchugur stammered. His front legs had crumpled, his human body almost fell over but his human hands kept him upright. “How…”

Anton tapped Leo’s shoulder. “Excuse me.”

Leo said nothing, content to allow it to play out.

Anton threw a lightning bolt at Guchugur’s hand. It missed, as he intended, throwing up chunks of grass and dirt into his face.

“Do you understand the position you’re in?” Anton pushed through the Black Rider Knights. “Tell your Khan that if any Centaur tries to cross this boundary and into the lands of Qaiviel I will destroy them.”

The wails and screams of the dying grew louder.

“Do you understand?”

Guchugur was still stunned into silence.

“Do you understand?!” Anton threw a weak lightning bolt at his horse body. It wasn’t enough to kill him but more than sufficient to stun him, to cause every nerve to fire at once.

Guchugur’s body kicked and spasmed, he gasped for air but he was now listening to Anton.

“Do you understand?” Anton asked more softly this time. “Tell your Khan exactly what I said. And don’t think that’s all that I can do.”

Anton summoned a Small Fire Imp. The creatures burst through the flaming ring and approached Guchugur. The Centaur recoiled from the small flaming beast, his hooves scuffing at the ground as he tried to run away. Anton stopped the Fire Imp just before the Centaur.

“I can do a lot more than that.” Anton waved to the people on the wall. “Do you think that those archers can’t do that as well?”

Any semblance of colour drained from Guchugur’s face.

“I…” Guchugur staggered to stand. “I understand.”

“Good.” Anton looked to the Dark Elves.

Guchugur did not rise. His lips trembled as the last of the Centaurs died, their burnt limbs reaching out to the sky in some death induced delirium. The wind blew loudly across the Conflagration, still the Centaur did not move.

“Get up and run!” Anton shouted. “Before I change my mind. Or do I need to engrave my message on your hide?”

The Fire Imp raised its small dagger, the expressionless face was even more terrifying for Guchugur as it moved to his flank.

“No!” Guchugur leapt to his feet, he was so afraid that his legs refused to coordinate. “I’ll tell him!”

“Perhaps I do need to have it written into you.”

The Fire Imp leapt onto Guchugur’s back. Guchugur bucked wildly and threw the Fire Imp off, a singed section, a copy of his feet, remained on his back.

“Get away from me!” Guchugur screamed and fled with all possible speed, great plumes of dust thrown up by his hooves.

Anton dismissed the Fire Imp. No one said a word until the Centaur was nothing more than a simple dot on the horizon. A visible wave of relief washed over the Knights, however the leaders were not so relieved.

“Why did you let him live?” Leo asked.

“Did you want me to kill him?” Anton said calmly. Cetina tapped his back and motioned for him to step back from the huddle of Black Rider Knights. This was Leo, after all.

“Now he’ll return to the other Centaurs and tell them we attacked them,” Leo spoke sternly. “If they all died they might think something happened to them.”

“And then they’ll just keep sending them,” Anton said. “And he said they were planning to attack before spring anyway. They were going to attack regardless of what you said, this was just an attempt to demoralise you. But now they’ll think twice. Especially when they see the burns on that Centaur’s back. And that no one else is returning.”

“Fear is a dangerous weapon,” Bernard grumbled. “It might backfire.”

“It’ll give them pause.” Anton shrugged. “They’ll wonder if it’s actually true or not. That indecision will grant you precious time that you can use to finish the wall. So long as you mobilise everyone you can. And that includes your Knights and the Royal Army. Not to mention the locals. It’ll be a huge effort but it could be done.”

Anton looked either side towards the distant mountains. “If you move with everything you have you might just be able to finish it. Start with wooden palisades and continue from there, maybe start just building it out of dirt to begin with. An earthen wall with a giant ditch in front, filled with spikes. That’ll hold them at bay. Centaurs can’t scale near-vertical cliffs. No?”

“No,” Alfred said. “No, they cannot.”

Leo clicked his tongue. “We were never actually going to be able to negotiate with those animals. Worse than Beast-kin, little more than monsters.”

Leo looked to the Conflagration. “Perhaps we’ll be able to take the war to them one day, let them feel fear that our people do. But…I must agree. Bernard?” The Black Rider grunted. “Mobilise everyone. Everyone that can move. All of the western Knight Orders, the local militia forces and every miner and stone cutter that can be spared. Ensure that they are well rewarded. Use the gold confiscated from the Church. Everyone and everything must be mobilised to finish this wall.”

“At once, your Majesty.” Bernard quickly repeated the order to those on the wall. Pages and Squires saluted and disappeared, Anton could hear the thumping of heavy boots on wood.

“This isn’t what I was expecting when I called for aid,” Leo said flatly.

“Should the Centaurs return notify us immediately,” Anton said. “A few flame pillars and they’ll go scurrying back to their red wastes.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Alfred said softly.

“You didn’t have much of a choice to begin with. Not if that Centaur spoke the truth.” Anton waved to the Dwarves watching from the wall. “The Dwarves will help with building the wall. So long as they are paid well.”

“Of course.” Leo looked to the still glowing craters in the Conflagration. “Whatever is necessary to keep my people safe.”

Anton said nothing as Leo stared at the dot of the fleeing Centaur. It was now just a matter of time to see if it was the correct decision.

Volume 05 - Chapter 20 - Khan

"Move!" Guchugur yelled. "Get out of the way!"

The Centaurs guarding Khan Dorgar’s camp barely had any time to intercept Guchugur's furious charge. He pushed them aside and barrelled into the camp. Relief washed over his body, his horse's legs trembled and buckled, sending him careening onto the red dusty ground of the Conflagration. Nearby Centaurs, women, children and the old, rushed to his side. Guchugur barely felt their hands as they lifted him up. His mind was still in a daze as one of the guards he had toppled over ran up to him, a mixture of fury and disbelief.

"What was that all about?" The guard spluttered, unable to think of a better response. "You could have hurt me, or any of the little ones."

"Where's the rest of your herd?" The other guard asked, more composed than the second. "Over a hundred Centaurs left with you and now there's just you. What happened?"

Guchugur's heart pounded. Memories came flooding back: the stench of burning fur and flesh, the screams of those dying around him and the heat. The heat. The unimaginable heat radiating from the pillars of flame. His own wounds, such as they were, did not even enter consideration.

"Was it a Hydra Lizard?" An elderly male Centaur asked.

His horseback was stooped low, his upper half was not far behind, and his coats had more streaks of grey than brown. Why he had not been left to die, like the countless generations before him had, was a mystery. It wasn't actually a mystery, the only mystery was why Khan Dorgar had decided to change it.

"No." Guchugur shrugged them off. "Where-"

"A Rainbow Monitor?" Another asked.

"A Red Crystal Eel?" A Centaur foal asked. She bit looked at Guchugur in awe, he was supposed to be a leading example for the others, and yet he had returned in shame.

"No," Guchugur said firmly. She and the other young foals backed away, nervously stomping their front hooves. "I don't have time for this. Where is the Khan?"

"I believe he's still in his tent." The second guard said, pointing his spear towards the centre of the camp. Guchugur only then realised he was without any weapon. He would be mocked relentlessly for leaving it behind, but he still had to survive his next meeting.

Guchugur grunted and slowly walked towards the raised tent at the centre of their camp. It was impossible to miss, not only did the Khan have the first privilege to decide where to place his tent it was also the most luxurious. The tents Guchugur passed were simple but effective, a long thin piece of wood rammed deeper into the dry red soil, onto which large sails were attached which radiated outwards. Bones from giant creatures were woven along one edge for strength and stability. It was the most time consuming part of establishing a camp but also one of the few. Once they had been set up there was little else to do, apart from rolling out some blankets so their undersides were not stained by the red dirt. The Centaurs Guchugur passed looked up, resting their bodies on the rough mats, as they prepared food or maintained their weapons. Guchugur realised that their lives were rather simple, it was either that or rutting. He saw many in the throes of passion, Centaurs cared not where they copulated but even Guchugur thought it was strange with children around.

Am I going to get another chance? Probably not…Well, three of the females that came with me carried my offspring.

Guchugur glanced back towards the Qaiviel Kingdom, far beyond the horizon. He said nothing as he continued towards the Khan’s tent. Questions were thrown at him without a care for his expression, mates and friends of those that had journeyed with him but Guchugur was too deep in worry. Even one whose mate carried Guchugur’s child elicited nothing. Only when a pair of obsidian tipped spears were thrust into his face did Guchugur realise he had arrived at the Khan’s tent.

“I need to see the Khan.” Guchugur’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Now.”

The guards, some of the largest and physically strongest Centaurs in all of the Conflagration, wearing a modest set of leather armour, refused to move or even blink. Guchugur held their gaze, he hated these staring contests. It was ultimately a pointless game.

“Is that Guchugur?” A deep voice called from underneath the gigantic tent. Unlike the others drapes hung from the outside, granting the Khan and his visitors a modicum of privacy.

“It is, Khan Dorgar.” A guard said softly.

“Well let him in.” Guchugur saw a shadowy hand move behind the drapes. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Guchugur’s legs felt cold and refused to move.

This is it. This is where I die.

Guchugur resolved himself, as best he could, and stepped past the guards. Unlike the other tents, the Khan’s had many items strewn about, things that Guchugur knew could not be made by Centaur hands. Guchugur had seen these things before, in previous Qaiviel raids; pottery, wooden furniture designed for human rears rather than the bodies of Centaurs and barrels of wine. The presence of a yellow flower emblem brought a bitter taste to Guchugur’s throat.

“Is something wrong?” A deep voice called from near the central pillar. “I sent you away with over a hundred warriors. And yet…”

Guchugur said nothing. The few meandering thoughts that he had managed to cobble together completely evaporated in the presence of the Khan. He was an impressive Centaur, not so much in size or build but in presence. His pitch-black coat, unusual for a Centaur, glinted in the faint light, along with the thin layer of hair that covered his human upper half. Many scars adorned his skin, but all were shallow and small, a testament to his skill in battle. His square and powerful jaw lay behind a thick black beard, long braids cascaded down his back.

“And yet you return by yourself.” Khan Dorgar sighed and stretched his back out, the muscles twitched under the movement. It wasn’t hard to see why he was popular with the females, not that he ever laid his hands on any other than one.

“Yes,” Guchugur said softly. He held his head low, only because he could not bear to look Dorgar in the eyes without fumbling his words.

“Well…” Dorgar sighed again. He nodded to a nearby large mat, very expensive but clean and rugged, clearly made for guests. “Why don’t you sit and tell me what happened.”

Guchugur did as he was bid. Most Khans would have yelled at him until he cracked, barely have listened to his explanation and then killed him on the spot. Either that or banishment or gelding. Guchugur did not know which was worse.

As Guchugur laid himself down, tucking his front legs neatly underneath his body, another Centaur shifted. A thin layer of cloth moved, a female Centaur poked her head through. Guchugur immediately recognised Togene, Dorgar’s wife. The Khan’s choice in a monogamous relationship baffled Guchugur and almost every Centaur he spoke with. She wasn’t ugly, that much was certain, but she wasn’t the prettiest. Sparse knots covered her pale brown coat, her tail was lopsided and stringy, while her human half would be considered thin and gangly, even the coat covering her upper half was thin and patchy, even for a female. Female Centaurs did not have the muscles of the males but she was particularly thin. Guchugur had never seen her fight before, but being Khan Dorgar’s mate she had no reason to.

“What’s happening?” Togene asked, yawning and stretching her arms out. “I thought I would be able to have a nap.”

Dorgar smiled and held her chin. They stared into each other’s eyes, both a deep blue, again something very rare amongst the Centaurs. Guchugur had not seen any Centaurs as in love as these two.

“Sorry, love.” Dorgar kissed his wife. “But something important has turned up.”

Togene winced as she rolled onto her side. “They’re just getting so restless.” She rubbed her stomach, it was so bloated that it almost reached her knees and lifted one set legs high. “The Herbalist said it would be before spring, perhaps even a few days if I’m lucky. I want to be able to run again.”

“But who’s going to take care of our foals then?” Dorgar teased. Togene stuck out her tongue as she pulled the thin sheet back over her body. Dorgar rubbed her stomach. “But I’m glad that I’m not pregnant. I have the feeling that what I’m about to be told would do none of us any good.”

Guchugur grimaced as he clasped his hands tight. “May I-”

“No,” Dorgar spoke with finality. “You will tell me what happened. Exactly as it happened.”

Guchugur winced as he recounted exactly what occurred. He dared not lie, he was certain that Dorgar would behead him if he did, while the two sat and listened in perfect silence.

“And then you ran all the way back here?” Togene gasped as she looked towards the east. “But…But it takes days to travel that far. Especially as I am now.”

“Not if you ran with everything you have,” Dorgar said softly. “Did you see any of the creatures of the Conflagration? It’s nearing dark, they should have been readying to hunt.”

“No,” Guchugur replied. “I only stopped running when I reached the camp.”

Dorgar stroked his bearded chin. “At least we know that we can make the journey in under a day. But we’d be in no state to fight.”

Only then did Guchugur become aware that his entire body was shaking. It was nothing more than a slight tremor but his hands refused to obey his thoughts to stop.

“I…I didn’t realise…” Guchugur trailed off, his trembling body in the presence of the Khan was the least of his concerns.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dorgar folded his muscular arms. “I’m surprised they threw back my generous offer.” Dorgar chuckled. “But I’m surprised that they even pretended to entertain it.”

“But over a hundred Centaurs died.” Togene’s slender fingers reached for Dorgar’s arm. “That’s terrible.”

“It is.” Dorgar held her hand. “But nothing compared to what will happen if we do not leave these lands soon.”

Guchugur was one of the few that understood what Dorgar spoke of. He looked beyond the Khan’s tent to the Conflagration. The desolate red wastes could not sustain much vegetation, and very few of those could actually bear edible fruit. To put simply there were too many Centaurs for their meagre supply of food.

Togene rubbed her stomach. “I want to raise my children in a land without having to worry about whether or not they’ll be able to eat.” Togene’s brows furrowed. “Having to cram dirty, red water into their bellies to stop the cries of hunger.”

“The lands of Qaiviel and beyond are fertile.” Behind Dorgar something moved but neither paid it any mind. “They will be able to provide for generations of Centaurs. We’ll still be warriors…” Dorgar laughed. “I wonder what they’ll think when they discover they’re going to be farmers.”

“Do you mean for us to become like them?” Guchugur asked. Dorgar’s eyes were devoid of emotion, for better or for worse. “Living in cities and tending the land, like the human peasants?”

“No.” Dorgar smiled. He looked to the source of the sound. “I have something better in mind…” A deep frown creased his face. “But…But this Mage worries me.”

“You’re worried about one man?” Togene smiled, her face full of innocence. “What can one man do against your entire Warherd?”

Guchugur knew she had heard how one man had killed over a hundred Centaurs seemingly without effort, quite the opposite in fact. During other raids on Qaiviel, Guchugur had seen how dangerous one of these human mages could be. Each commanded unnatural forces, conjuring fire, lighting and stone from the very air and flung them against the Centaurs. Guchugur shuddered as he remembered the screams of the Centaurs as their bodies were torn apart, the laughter of the mages and the soldiers heaping praise upon them.

“Quite Easily.” A soft male voice called out. “If it’s the one I’ve heard about.”

Dorgar and Togene glanced back to the source. However, it refused to reveal itself.

“I thought the lands of Qaiviel were suffering from the aftermath of a civil war,” Dorgar said, frowning again. “That they would be weak and divided. That they wouldn’t think we’d attack until the spring. There was nothing about a mage that could kill over a hundred Centaurs in one attack.”

“It’s worse than that.” The voice laughed. “My spies tell me that a Mage was instrumental in defeating the usurper king. My reports match the destructive potential.”

The voice rose up, much to Guchugur’s disgust as he watched a human crawl over the piles of precious goods, like an actual animal, knocking them over followed by brief apologies. It did nothing in Guchugur’s mind to change his opinion of humans.

But…But they did beat us back. For generations…

The human came into the light. He was a tall man, wearing loose white clothes stained with red dust, open leather sandals on his disgusting human feet, and carried a metal goblet containing a deep purple liquid. He sat next to Dorgar and rubbed his own rear. Guchugur had seen this human before but never up close. Something was off about him; the people of Qaiviel all had light skin, Guchugur had never seen the humans beyond, but this man had skin considerably darker, perhaps halfway between the light skin of Qaiviel and his own coat. Even more curious was his hair. He had seen, and killed, humans with black hair but had never seen blue hair. Patches scattered his head, one either side of his ears and another right in the centre.

“Impressive destructive potential.” The man sipped at his goblet. “Well, not so much potential, is it?”

All eyes fell on Guchugur. “No.” He said softly. “Not, it was not.”

The man clicked his tongue. “This complicates things.”

“Does it?” Togene asked. “It’s just one human?”

“And…” Again all eyes fell on Guchugur. “Who is this human?”

“This is Gustavo.” Dorgar patted and shook the man’s shoulder. “A human I am indebted to.”

Gustavo scoffed, waving down the Khan, even swatting his hand away. Guchugur had never seen something so outrageous directed at a Khan. Had Dorgar been the previous Khan, Gustavo would have been dragged across the most rugged terrain the Conflagration had to offer until he was nothing but fleshy ribbons.

“Indebted?” Gustavo laughed. “I wouldn’t call it that. But we do share an exciting history, no?”

Dorgar failed to elaborate what the man had done for him, but Guchugur knew it must have been truly incredibly, likely lifesaving, for a Centaur to willingly converse with a human. It only reinforced the powerful control Dorgar had over the Warherd. No one had touched him, if anything he appeared to be living better than most Centaurs.

“But I am worried.” Dorgar folded his arms. “If there is a mage this capable, and he’s allied with the King, then it sounds like that it’ll be impossible to take their lands. I don’t want to annihilate the Centaurs because I doubted how strong this mage is.”

“Yes…” Gustavo ran a finger around the rim of his goblet. “They are an issue-”

“They?” Dorgar asked.

“They indeed.” Gustavo smiled. “There were more than just that mage. And it sounds like most of them were there, so I’m not going to doubt it’s the same person.”

“That still doesn’t help us,” Dorgar grumbled.

And it doesn’t explain why a human is helping us.

Gustavo dismissively waved his hand. “The Mage is not an issue. There are many measures you can take against mages. They’re not as big a threat as you might think, if you’re prepared.”

“Really?” Guchugur couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He killed everyone without swinging a weapon, barely even moving. Then there were the others-”

“It’s fine,” Gustavo spoke calmly, perhaps deliberately holding his voice flat and calm. “Even the most powerful mage can’t stop a dagger to the throat, nor survive a poisoned meal. Right?”

“I…I don’t know.” Guchugur looked to the Khan.

Dorgar slowly nodded. “I’ve met some Mages before. They’re normally not the best fighters. Usually old and frail, but still incredibly dangerous.”

“Exactly.” Gustavo drunk what liquid remained in the goblet. He frowned realising there was now nothing left. “They won’t be a problem. And don’t forget that your Warherd could easily cover the entire horizon before the border of Qaiviel. So don’t worry about them.”

“Then-”

Gustavo frowned. “But I’m more concerned about what they were doing at the border. Sure, they might have seen some of your Centaurs roaming close but that doesn’t necessitate the presence of the King and so many soldiers. Guchugur? What were they doing there? Surely you saw them doing something? Something odd for soldiers…”

Some dawned on Gustavo as he laughed before Guchugur could answer. “Let me guess. Some of the ruined walls looked a little fresher? Like they were building it further?”

“Y-Yes.” Guchugur nodded. “Some of the stone did look brighter. At least I think it did, I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

Gustavo turned to Dorgar. “Looks like you’ll have to move very soon. If the King is deciding to actually finish the wall then it’ll be extremely difficult to invade Qaiviel. If not downright impossible. Centaurs aren’t known for their siege ability-”

Something within Guchugur snapped. He didn’t know if he considered his life forfeit from his failure or that a human was seemingly Dorgar’s advisor, perhaps it was a combination of the two, but words began to flow from his mouth.

“Why would a human be helping us?” Guchugur blurted out. Togene raised her brows and glanced at Dorgar. She said nothing and allowed Guchugur to continue. “We want the humans gone from the lands beyond. Not as slaves, like how the United Empire kept our ancestors-”

“Where did you hear that?” Gustavo raised a brow. He reached behind for a small leather skin, from which he poured out more purple liquid.

“From our elders.” Guchugur remained as calm as he possibly could. “They pass on the stories of our ancestors to future generations.”

“Not that reliable.” Gustavo drunk more of the purple liquid. “Things can change from one person…” Gustavo raised his hand in apology. “Centaur, to the next, and you wouldn’t even know it. But you are right about the United Empire treating-”

“Continue,” Dorgar said softly. “Continue your thought, Guchugur.”

Guchugur didn’t know if Dorgar was trying to intimidate him to stop, offer him a way out, or genuinely wanted to know. Regardless, he continued.

“I just don’t understand why a human would help us.” Guchugur curled his fists. “It doesn’t make any sense they’d work against each other.”

Gustavo held Guchugur’s gaze, slowly his brows furrowed. “Tell me something.” The human leant forward slightly. “Do you Centaurs fight each other?”

“Yes…”

“And have you ever used the beasts of the Conflagration to your aid?” Gustavo smiled. “Never once run an opposing warherd right into the maws of some savage beasts?”

“I...” Guchugur clicked his tongue. “We did once push a small rival warherd into a nest of Hydra Lizards. Quite a few of them.”

Dorgar said nothing, Gustavo slowly nodded.

“And they killed all of them, I imagine? And how many did you lose?”

“None.”

“Then it was a good strategy-”

“So you’re using us to deal with your enemy?” Guchugur’s fists gripped even tighter, if that was possible. Even Togene looked to Gustavo in surprise.

“Well…I wouldn’t put it like that.” Gustavo smiled. “But it doesn’t mean that we can’t help each other. We want Qaiviel destroyed and you want more land.” He pointed to the near-endless plains of red dust, in the distance the giant floating rocks grew brighter for their nightly discharge. “There’s nothing like that in Qaiviel, or the lands beyond.”

“But why-”

Dorgar raised his hand. “That’s enough. We have an agreement. Things are not always simple in war, especially this one.”

Dorgar shook his head, his brows furrowed for just a moment as his eyes searched for something. Something flashed through his eyes, Guchugur was certain he saw something move over his eyes, but it was gone the next.

“E-Even…” Gorgar coughed as Togene held his hand. “Gustavo has been a great help to us. Without him, we would have lost many more of our own.”

I wonder just how much of this the other herds know. If they knew a human was advising their Khan...I wonder if they really believe it or just think it’s lies thrown against him?

“But regardless, we have extremely little time. If they are trying to build a wall that stretches between the mountains-”

“Do you think they can?” Togene asked Gustavo.

Gustavo glumly nodded. “I believe they can. With Leo, or King Leo, now in command of the entire Qaiviel Kingdom, and this mage helping him, I believe he can. It would be a truly mighty effort to get it finished before you could arrive.”

The human stroked his chin as he stared into his goblet. “Maybe not a stone wall, like a castle, but they could certainly build a dirt wall, reinforced with wood. Yes...That’s what I would do.”

“We will begin advancing on the border-”

“But the mage…” Guchugur heard the screams once again. “He said that he would destroy every Centaur that did, unless you went there alone.”

Dorgar huffed, folding his powerful arms. “If some upstart mage thinks that I would make the journey alone he is severely mistaken. Especially since it did not come from their King.”

“Just ensure that your Centaurs are well spaced.” Gustavo took another swig. “That way his magic won’t be as effective.”

“He’d still kill hundreds of us.” Guchugur lightly shook his head. “Thousands.”

“But once these mages are dead their morale will collapse. Think about it. Would you, a simple farming peasant, stand firm against warriors such as yourselves, thundering towards them knowing their mage has died.” Gustavo laughed. “I know I wouldn’t, and anyone that says they would is a liar.”

“We will advance, but carefully.” Dorgar continued. “Ensure that we take all possible measures against this mage’s magic. As much as we can...It will still take us some time to begin the march.”

“How long?” Gustavo asked.

“Several days to inform the other Warherds,” Dorgar replied. “They have stayed in their territory, there’s not enough food for all of us in one place. At least, not for long.”

“I see...I will try and arrange something.” Gustavo sighed. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything. Assassinations take time, and my spies and informants are having a difficult time locating where this mage lives. Apparently, he came from the west of Qaiviel but that’s where the trail ends. Somehow he’s very good at covering his tracks.”

Dorgar nodded. “Do what you can, even if it’s just information. Everything will be useful. Now, Guchugur?”

Guchugur’s blood ran cold. He tried to compose himself for his imminent death but he knew he was doing a poor job.

“Tell the messengers to inform the other Warherds to begin. I want every possible warrior at my call. Everything. Order them to strip the lands for supplies. If everything goes well we won’t be returning to these blasted lands.”

“And if we fail?” Guchugur‘s voice was a mere whisper at the end, realising he may have spoken out of turn.

“They will understand that we will have no future if we fail. That our only chance of survival is to take Qaiviel for ourselves. Anyone that does not will become prey for the other Warherds.”

Guchugur glumly nodded. Never before had a Khan ordered something so drastic or cruel. The wars between Warherds were always bloody but it never went to such extremes. Never, at least until Dorgar became Khan.

“I...I will do so immediately.” Guchugur slowly began to rise. Dorgar did not reprimand him as he quickly left.

Guchugur quickly left the tent. He looked back only once, the three were already in a whispered discussion, one which Guchugur could not hear.

The messengers, spritely Centaurs with a love of speeding through dangerous terrain, mainly for the thrill. Nevertheless, Guchugur found himself slowing. He had not been given a note to deliver, only a verbal command. Something gnawed at the back of his head. Something about the order to strip their lands for supplies. It just didn’t sit right with him. A thought flashed through his head. Surely Dorgar wouldn’t know if everything was stripped from the land. As long as it looked like it was Dorgar wouldn’t question it.

There’s something wrong with that human. I’ve fought and killed hundreds...Something’s wrong with him. But this is all I can do? When...When did I become so caring? I lost at least four children today...Maybe…

Guchugur did not understand his feelings as he formulated the message to be delivered to the numerous Warherds.

Volume 05 - Chapter 21 - Mezot's Concerns

"Again," Cetina ordered.

Anton groaned lightly as he gripped the wooden training sword tight. Blisters covered his hands, even though he wore padded gloves. Cetina's blows were simply too powerful. The coarse dirt from the training grounds was certainly not helping matters.

"I'm not going to be much use if I can barely move." Anton shifted his grip to where it hurt least.

"You'll get used to it." Cetina frowned. "And don't use your healing to get rid of any bruises or blisters." Cetina pointed her wooden sword at Anton. "I don't know how much magic you have but you shouldn't be using it for every little scratch."

"I don't." Anton realised he sounded like a petulant child and let it drop.

Tonight I'm going to focus all my attention onto you. See how well you're moving in the morning.

Rasha loudly huffed, holding her head in both hands. She sat on the edge of the training circle, halberd across her folded legs as she watched them spar with a vague annoyance.

"I want to practice too," Rasha grumbled, idly picking at the short pieces of grass. "I haven't had anyone to spar against since Kristof was called away by Marion."

Rasha placed the halberd to one side and stretched out her legs. Her hooves just stopped shy of the edge of the circle. Pieces of dirt and grass had become embedded in her hooves yet it did not appear to bother her. She leant forward and rubbed her calves underneath her armour.

"Strange that herbivores can become so strong," Anton said softly.

Rasha's ears, long and dangling loose out of her helmet, pricked up slightly.

"I don't know why either." Rasha rubbed the simple armour plates covering her legs. "I've always been like this...Just like the rest of me."

"I'm sure you could just stomp on your opponent’s foot." Anton approached and tapped the underside of Rasha's hoof. "That would easily break their bones and bend steel. Not something someone fighting you would expect. They’d-"

"Please focus." Cetina shook her head, tapping the blunt edge of her sword on her shoulder. "As the captain of your bodyguard’s I want you to take this seriously."

Cetina almost never invoked her title, not that it was something official, but Anton relented. As he moved back to his position Rasha's ears twitched and her head snapped towards the inner Atros gate. Though the training fields were awash with activity no one approached them, a small perimeter had formed around them of empty training circles. Except one, an older man with a small piece of rough paper in his hand.

"More requests from Leo?" Cetina asked softly.

Anton shook his head. "Doubtful. They'd send someone fast, like last time. If anything they'd be faster, since the Centaurs would be attacking the wall."

"I'll see what it is." Cetina placed her wooden sword besides Rasha and took up her normal sword. As she moved towards the slow, hobbling messenger, Rasha rose to her feet and stood by Anton.

"If I am needed to help with the Centaurs." Rasha waited until Anton looked up to her. "Don't hesitate to tell me. But...I might just give things away. What you're doing here."

"Of course." Anton nodded lightly. "Atros's long term survival won't mean much if we're dead, will it?"

Rasha violently shook her head, her red braids slapping her cheeks with every swing. "It wouldn't work without you."

Anton chuckled. "I'm sure it would."

Cetina took the scroll from the man. He gave a polite wave and hobbled back to the inner gate.

"Some Beastkin still look at me oddly." Rasha murmured. "Can't stand a Blue Oni Minotaur, for some reason."

"It's not from Leo." Cetina almost skipped to his side. "Not from anyone from those Communication Pens, actually."

"So where did it come from?" Anton asked as he took the scroll.

On closer inspection, the paper was of far better quality than anything in Atros's possession. The words were also written in ink, not what the communication pens used nor did they have any. Anton realised who it belonged to when he saw the light fingerprint stain in the corner.

Anton sighed, gently shaking his head. "I told you just to come through if you have any problems."

"Is it from..." Rasha tapped her helmet as she searched for the name.

"Mezot." Anton held the scroll open for Rasha. He pointed to the bottom, where Mezot had signed her name. "Ha! She signed as a Master of the Graterious Royal Academy."

Cetina raised her brow. "It is true though."

"I'm just glad she's really accepting her position. Not that she thinks she’s having some weird dream or delusion."

"What does it say?" Rasha leant close. Anton felt the warmth radiating from her skin and breath.

"She...She's having her first official lesson after becoming a Master and she wants me to come..." Anton frowned lightly. "I don't know if Axia wrote this, or just cleaned it up a little. Since it's about magic I get the feeling Mezot might waffle on."

"She's a very strange woman." Cetina chuckled.

"That she is." Anton rolled the piece of paper tight. "But she's the best Principle Mage we've got."

It took Rasha a few moments to fully understand. She smiled awkwardly and glumly nodded.

"Cetina? Do you want to come with me?"

"No Verona or Kal?"

"Not this time. I want them to rest. Besides, we should only be on the Academy grounds so it should be pretty safe, especially with so many mages and those soldiers."

"I'm ready whenever you are, Anton."

---[]---

Anton arrived through the portal to Mezot's room. It looked even tidier than ever, something that brought Anton a little joy. Beyond the open door Mezot carried a small bundle of old paper. She muttered to herself as he leafed through the pages, frowning and shaking her head as her eyes lingered on a particular page.

"Mezot," Anton spoke softly as to not startle her. "How are you?"

Mezot raised her finger to Anton, telling him to wait. Cetina stepped through a moment later. Befuddlement crossed her face as she saw what Mezot was doing.

"Don't tell me she became an arsehole after becoming a Master."

"I think she's just nervous and worrying too much." Anton stepped forward. "Going over her notes so much that she's going backwards, at least mentally."

Cetina pulled as a face as she followed him. Only when Anton was a step away did Mezot realize he was there.

"Anton!" Mezot almost dropped the papers. She crumpled those on the bottom as she caught them. "Sorry. It was like....before. Before you helped me. I-I don't know how long I've been here looking at these pages."

"Just take a deep breath and everything will be fine."

Anton laid his hand on Mezot's shoulder as she tried her best to follow his instructions. Her eyes never left his as he chanted another prayer to try and mend her mind, at the very least alleviate some of her confusion. Anton wasn't sure if it worked, some mana left him but not as much as the first time but Mezot calmed significantly.

"I..." Mezot smiled. "Thank you. I feel a bit better. I can think a little clearer now."

"Ready for your first lesson?" Cetina asked.

Just as Mezot was unaware of Anton's presences she did not realize Cetina was standing just behind him. Quite an accomplishment as Cetina wore her bright armour and was almost a head taller than him. For just a moment Mezot's expression soured.

Ah. She was expecting only me to come. No one else was specified in that letter.

"Did...Did you," Anton nodded towards the portal. "Did you just throw the note, your letter rather, through the portal?"

Mezot nodded firmly. "The headaches I received from that lasted some time. And I did not wish to be any further hindered when I try to deliver my first lesson."

"Fair enough." Anton smiled. "So are you ready? Oh, where's Axia?"

"She is undergoing a practical test." A modicum of pride swelled in Mezot's face. "If she does well she might get a scholarship or at the very least some discounted equipment. Maybe even a lower grade fire charm."

Mezot glanced at her own charm, resting against her table. "Despite my ability, hers favours Fire and Earth. She almost has no ability with Ice or Water..."

Mezot shrugged but still appeared a little despondent. Despite everything her daughter had done for her she couldn't impart her knowledge of magic, quite possibly the only thing she had to give.

"That's a shame. But I know your daughter only wants the best for you. Besides, I'm sure you taught her the basics."

Mezot smiled faintly and nodded. She brought the stack of papers close to her chest. "It might have been the only time I've been a decent mother..."

Cetina shifted her legs as an awkward silence fell over them. "Are you ready to teach your class?"

Immediately Mezot's attitude changed. "Yes! That's why I asked you to come. It's very soon and I'm still a little nervous. Unlike those people in your city, they don't listen very well."

"I have a few ideas to fix that." Anton scratched his beard. "If you’re willing to listen."

---[]---

Cetina tapped Anton's leg. "I still don't understand what she's saying but at least I can hear her."

"Even with everyone here too." Anton adjusted himself in his seat. "And they're actually listening too."

Cetina smirked. "I think it’s more shock than being attentive."

As Anton and Cetina were not paying students they sat at the back of the small classroom. What were once disinterested students, idly chatting or playing while Mezot tried to teach, were now fully attentive, their quills and pens writing a furious speed. Anton overheard a group of students wondering if this was some sort of elaborate joke, that Mezot was perfectly capable of teaching well and had simply chosen not to.

Mezot herself stood before the giant blackboard, standing side on rather than facing the board, as she drew large and simple diagrams. She held her chin up and occasionally paused to catch her breath, she was not accustomed to speaking loudly.

"I'm so glad she listened," Anton whispered to Cetina. "She just needed some help. A bit of guidance."

"More than that," Cetina smirked. She placed a hand onto his leg and threw him an odd look until he held hers. There was no one else sitting near them so her actions were hidden. Her smirk, however, was not.

Mezot finished drawing a complicated mathematical diagram, Anton wasn't listening too closely, that appeared to show how mana was funnelled through a Charm to create magic. When Mezot laid down the piece of chalk she looked over the students at Anton. Anton didn't want to derail her radical improvement and simply gave her a thumbs up. The small gesture was more than sufficient to raise her mood even higher, every time she looked away from the board and realized the students were still listening raised it even higher.

Before Mezot could utter another word a gentle chime rang throughout the room. The end of the class. Like the previous time, a line of butlers and servants filed through the door to take the students materials. Unlike before some stayed behind to speak to Mezot. She was caught completely unprepared and began to flounder at something that clearly had never happened before. She looked to Anton for help but there was little he could do. He tried to signal for her to take a deep breath and only speak to one student at a time. Mezot grimaced, gave a curt nod and tried calming the students.

Over the next few minutes Mezot answered the questions as best she could. The students looked happy with what they received and slowly left, their servants waiting patiently by the door with their pages and books.

When only two students remained Anton and Cetina began to descend the raised platform. He smiled as he saw words etched into the wooden benches; names, slurs and drawings. Anton's eyes were drawn to a particular etching, a drawing very similar to the letter S, but Cetina gently pushed him forward.

The two students left with Mezot were very young, around Axia's age. When one turned, hearing their loud footsteps, he recognized them as Axia's classmates, when a student's mistake had cost him his arms and almost killed himself.

"You haven't heard anything about Placus?" A young girl asked. "The Healers aren't saying anything and students can't get into the wards."

"We're very worried." The second student, a boy with very long hair, did not sound as concerned as the girl. "He's a good friend of ours..."

As he looked to the girl his eyes were lacking real empathy while her lips were trembling.

"As a Master, you must have heard something." The girl's voice wavered at the end. She bit her lip, the boy tried to hold her shoulder but she shrugged him off. For a moment Anton saw unrepentant scorn in his eyes.

Swooping in after a tragedy? Very classy.

"I don't know." Mezot's eyes flicked up to Anton. "But I will ask and find out if he is alright."

"Thank you."

The girl was almost in tears as she left. This time the boy managed to hold her shoulder, she even held his hand as she bit onto her closed fist. Anton saw the look of triumph on his face as they left.

"Unbelievable."

"What is?" A faint flush covered Mezot's face. It slowly faded as she held her staff tight and rested her weight upon it. "That was...Stressful. I think I need to sit down."

Mezot staggered to her teachers’ desk and flopped onto the chair. She placed her staff in a small wooden holster, there was even a divot in the floor to prevent the staff from sliding out.

"What did you say, Anton?" Mezot placed her hands onto the table.

"Him." Anton nodded to the door. "Trying to get the girl during a tragedy, when she's emotional and much easier to manipulate."

"Is that what that was?" Mezot held her chin, her eyes lost focus as she contemplated on his words. "I see..."

"It's not just boys though." Cetina clicked her tongue. "Women can be just as vile."

"I think the answer is that anyone can be shit." Anton shook his head. "On a lighter note, how do you think it went?"

"It went fantastically!" Mezot shot out of her chair. "They listened. They actually listened! I...I've never seen all my students writing at the same time." Mezot grimaced. "Usually they're chatting to each other, if I even notice they're there."

"But not anymore." Anton smiled as he sat on a clear corner of the desk. "You'll be very busy once spring rolls around and everyone's back."

"How full are the classes then?" Cetina asked. "There are still quite a few students now."

"Do they get extra credit if they stay during the winter?" Anton asked. "Stops the teachers from getting dull, even if you are under a reduced workload."

"Most classes are full." Mezot softly replied. "Even mine. At least the compulsory classes. I think the Academy was considering expanding."

"They should probably renovate what they have first." Anton folded his arms. "The buildings near where you live need some serious work. Not to mention I saw a whole bunch that are just abandoned near the Academy walls."

Someone knocked softly on the door. A slightly stooped elderly man waited patiently near the door. The Head Master of the Royal Academy, whose name Anton had yet to learn.

"Renovations will be starting at the beginning of summer." The Head Master slowly trotted in. "That is the soonest the Imperial family will grant us the money. And...Many of the builders are currently expanding the city walls and infrastructure. They cannot be spared for us while we can still make do."

"It's better to get ahead of the problem rather than let it catch up to you." Anton slid off Mezot's desk. "Surely there are people in Boreana that are in need of work."

The Head Master smiled. "There are. But we don't employ just anyone we find on the street."

"Head Master Pellio." Mezot bowed her head. "I did not think you would come here."

Pellio stopped a meter from the table. His charm was larger than Mezot's, more ornately decorated and held larger gemstones, but his covered the entire spectrum of colour. Anton wanted to know what he specialised in but this was Mezot's time, not his.

"I hope this change is permanent." Pellio frowned. "Students are signing for your classes on Ice and Water magic."

Mezot beamed with pride. "T-Thank you. I wouldn't be like this without Anton."

"Yes..." Pellio scrutinized Anton. "What did you do?"

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you just talk to them," Anton spoke calmly but he wished to speak far more firmly. Pellio, as the Head Master, should not have allowed Mezot's talent and skill to languish due to her difficulties, if not for her sake but for the efficiency of the Academy.

"I see..." Pellio softly sighed. "Mezot. We have a meeting tomorrow morning, in the main office. We will be discussing resource and student allocation as well as reviewing student applications."

"I..." Mezot failed to find the words.

"As a Master of the Royal Academy you are expected to attend." Pellio smiled faintly. "At least before you did not have to deal with bureaucracy."

Because dealing with paperwork is so much harder than being thrown out onto the street.

"I understand." Mezot quickly bowed her head.

"Keep up the good work." Pellio tapped his staff on the floor. "I'm glad to see you finally starting to reach your potential."

If only you'd done something like that before, you old goat.

Anton shared a glance with Cetina. Her thoughts were likely worse than his. Pellio gave a final wave with his bony hands and left without a further word. Mezot whimpered and fell into her chair.

"I've never been told that I've been doing a good job before."

“Mezot.” Anton frowned. “Please don't let a little bit of niceness make you forget everything they've put you through."

Cetina bit her lip and gently nodded. Mezot did not understand and looked very confused.

"They're only nice now because you have some worth." Cetina gently tapped the edge of the desk. "And now they expect you to be thankful to them now that you are accepted. That what they did to you, underpaying you, keeping you in a run-down building far from the others and abusing your skills and time is justified. In their eyes everything they did to you was the right thing."

"I..." Mezot frowned at Cetina. "That sounds very…real."

"It was," Cetina mumbled.

Mezot turned to Anton in panic, fearing that Cetina's slump was her fault.

"It's alright." Anton's words had little effect. "Now-"

"-I wanted to know that I could be a good teacher." Mezot blurted out at once. When she knew that she wasn't about to be admonished for interrupting Anton her breathing and speech calmed. "So that I can help you properly. The students here already have a basic understanding but your...Um, people, do not."

"Only that magic exists."

Mezot's face grew more stern. "I would like to gather supplies, but I need to leave the Academy to get them. If I were to try and buy them from the Academy they would know something is wrong and investigate me. And if they search my room..."

"That won’t be a problem." Anton smiled. "I remember, as we were approaching the Academy there were many stores selling books and other academic supplies."

"Yes!" Mezot rose from her desk, her fingers hesitated to take her staff. "But there would be a lot. And...And I'm still a bit nervous to leave the Academy. Especially during the day. There are so many people on the streets."

Last time we went out you could have been the victim of a serious beating or a murder. I wonder if that kid is wondering where those thugs are? Or if they've been found? I'm not with Verona so they probably won't think I'm the same person.

"I didn’t think of sending you out by yourself.” Anton chuckled. “Of course we’ll help. Now, what equipment did you need?”

---[]---

“How will this help?” Anton held a small box aloft. Mezot raced to his side and ensured the box was held level. “What?”

“It is filled with ink wells.” Mezot nearly snatched the fine wooden box from his hands. “If you tilt it the ink will run everywhere.”

“Not that you’d know anything about that, right?”

Anton pointed to Mezot’s fingertips. The very tips were slightly darker than the rest, no amount of scrubbing could remove all of the ink without rubbing the skin raw. Mezot flushed and looked away. She held the ear facing him in an attempt to hide the redness.

“I have.” Mezot almost grumbled. “But not for…A few days.”

“Is that everything?” A voice called from the counter of the store. “Or am I going to have to listen to you two drivel on until dusk.”

A sultry woman lounged at the counter of the store, smoking a finely ground orange leaf through a long pipe, as she watched them in a mixture of amusement and boredom. They were the only customers so there was little else for her to focus on.

“The other places weren’t like this,” Anton said.

“Arakia’s Emporium is the best place to get cheap materials,” Mezot said softly. “I…Sometimes more daughter comes here to collect supplies.”

“Axia’s a great kid.” The woman blew another lungful of smoke into the air, dragging out the action as long as possible. “She’s always willing to have a laugh.”

Ah. Well, at least I know where she gained her ‘Verona’ traits.

The woman sighed and rocked back into her chair. Unlike Mezot she was far more womanly; long and near perfectly straight black hair, soft eyes and long lashes, a tight robe around her generous chest and long shapely legs to boot. Anton had seen her walking around the store, restocking the shelves while muttering something to herself, so he knew that she deliberately put more sway into her hips when she walked as well.

“Something wrong?” She raised a brow, tapping her long pipe on a small ashtray.

“No,” Anton replied. In his peripheries, he could see Mezot glaring at him. “I am curious if you’re a Principle Mage or if you just run this store.”

The woman smiled bitterly. “I was once a mage.”

Mezot tugged weakly at his sleeve. She tried to pull him away but she lacked the strength or conviction.

“But a spell burned out all of my mana.” She shrugged as she rolled her free hand in the air. “Not burned it out, but stopped me from using it. A random person walking by has more mana than me.”

“But you’re still in the business of selling to those that can?”

The woman smiled. “I have to still make money. And I know what students actually need.” She scoffed as she nodded out the window, to a large building across the busy street.

The building was far more furnished with an expensive interior and, judging by the prices displayed in the windows, the prices matched.

“Ink and paper is the exact same.” The woman rested her chest onto the counter. Mezot’s eye twitched when she realised her torso wouldn’t lie flat. “And gemstones and silver of the same quality should cost the same, no-”

“I have them!” Another voice echoed throughout the building. A young boy emerged from a back room, carrying a large crate, a crate filled with Charm maintenance equipment, if the label was to be believed. “Sorry it took so long.”

“About time.” The woman rose from her slumped position and walked towards the boy.

Though Anton couldn’t help himself but glance at her walking out of his peripheries, Mezot did as well, something was wrong with her. Something along her back was off. A portion was missing, right where her right kidney would normally lie, but it hadn’t been surgically removed, more like everything around had been ripped out as well.

“It was right at the back.” The boy smiled at the woman. “Underneath-”

She tapped him hard on the head with her pipe, spattering his head with tiny embers. He shrieked as she shook his head.

“Arakia. What was that for?” He pouted, holding the crate tight to his body.

“Because you took too long.” A wicked smile crept over her face. She leant down, the boy failed to keep his eyes locked with hers, and kissed his forehead. “And I like to hear that little voice of yours.”

Oh. She’s like that, huh?

Mezot did not understand and appeared worried that she was abusing her employee. It technically was but relationships were weird at the best of times. And Anton was in no position to criticise anyone.

“Come on.” She gently ruffled his short brown hair and pushed him towards the counter. “These people surely need to head home.” She smiled at Mezot. “Seems like one of our customers is about to have an interesting night.”

The boy’s ears turned red in an instant and followed the woman. Mezot did not understand, she looked to Anton for help but he wasn't about to give it. Instead his eyes were drawn to the boy's leg and his distinctive limp. It was quite severe, he dropped several inches with each step.

"Did he suffer an accident as well?" Anton asked.

"He did." The woman bitterly smiled. The boy focused himself on his task but Anton saw his lips quiver. "His first attempt too. It got out of control and created an Abomination. Took his leg before anyone could stop it. And healing can't restore it."

"It's alright." The boy pushed the crate onto the counter. "I never would have met Miss ¥ without it."

Arakia lightly slapped him on the head, smiling as she pulled him close.

"I've never seen one myself," Anton said softly. "I was almost a witness, but, thankfully, it wasn't...born."

Arakia grimaced. "It's not a pretty sight." She sat behind the counter, taking a long draw on her pipe. "Is there anything else you want to purchase today?"

"That is everything we need," Mezot said. "At least for now."

"Mezot? Can the mages of Boreana tell if you're using magic inside the city? I remember the city guards telling us not to, or at the very least to be careful..."

"They can," Arakia smirked. "Especially Fire Mages. With so many tightly packed wooden buildings...Well, it's a surprise it hasn't gone up already."

"I'm sure you could do it." Anton nudged Mezot's side. "As a Master of the Royal Academy."

"Oh, so you did make it?" Arakia smiled. "Your daughter was so nervous that you wouldn't. But...Well," She leant closer, her eyes focusing on the small golden pin on Mezot's collar. "Look at you now."

"Thank you." Mezot smiled proudly. "I didn't think I would...Anton? Why did you want to know if I could use magic in the city?"

So I can see if I can heal them. I might not be able to restore their ability to use magic but perhaps I can fix their bodies.

Anton's eyes flicked down to his wrist, to his waist and the tightly bound tail.

Unless it's something like that.

"I was just curious." Anton smiled.

"Trying to impress a Master with your magic?" Arakia smirked. "I like your enthusiasm but don't do it in my store."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Anton reached into his hidden coin pockets and produced several gold coins. "I'm sure this is enough to cover it all."

Arakia bit her lip, the boy looked on in surprise, as she inspected the coins.

"I've never seen these markings before...But it appears genuine." Arakia opened a small locker container, Anton saw a brief flash of light as the lock clicked open. "Here's your change."

Anton took the silver and copper coins and plates with a smile. The boy pushed the multiple crates for Anton to easily pick up.

"Thanks." Anton lifted the surprisingly heavy containers. "Make sure you treat Arakia well. She seems like a good person to work for."

Arakia scoffed, dragging on her pipe harshly. "The day that happens is the day I marry him."

"Arakia!" The boy frantically waved his hands towards Arakia, his face has already turned beet red and it was quickly running down his neck. "You promised not to tell anyone that!"

That was your promise? Your condition to get married? Well...Whatever works.

Arakia grabbed his hand and laid a gentle kiss upon the back.

"That wasn't it though, was it?"

Arakia leant into his ear and whispered something. The boy's face turned even brighter and was having difficulty standing straight and still. There was also the small issue that he was furiously trying to flatten the front of his pants with no success.

"We'll see you another time." Anton motioned for Mezot to open the other door. "I'm sure we'll become a regular customer."

Arakia sweetly waved and lightly tapped on the boy's shoulder, pushing for him to follow. Mezot pushed the door open, heaving will all of her might and into the busy streets beyond. Cetina waited just outside, guarding their rented wagon and horse. The man driving the horse was sound asleep. His eyes slowly blinked open as he heard the door open. How he could catch any sleep yet be awoken by the sound of a door was a complete mystery. Cetina took the crates from his hands and laid them in the back of an already full wagon. Anton was thankful that Balefire mine would soon be producing silver.

"Thank you for your patronage." The boy bowed deeply and closed the door. Behind the glass a small sign flipped, indicating the store was close. Anton saw the boy run towards a set of stairs leading up, Arakia was already at the top, waiting for him.

"If it was the other way around people would be calling for his head." Anton mused, gently shaking his head. "But so long as it's this way it's acceptable."

"What are you talking about?" Cetina ensured the cargo was properly secured.

"Don't worry." When Anton looked back both were already gone. "Just some illicit fun."

Cetina's eye flicked to Mezot. She immediately understood that it was extremely unlikely that it was her and dropped the thought.

“Regardless,” Cetina tapped the hilt of her sword when she saw someone veering too close to their cart, thinking that Cetina could not see. They veered back into the crowd, cursing under their breath that their attempt at theft was thwarted. “If we’ve gathered everything we need we should head back to The Royal Academy. It’s much safer there than the city streets.”

“It actually seems pretty safe.” Anton quickly raised his hand as Cetina frowned deeply. “Despite that little incident the other night.”

“Right…”

“This should be a good start.” Mezot looked over the full cart. “We might need some more later but I should be able to start teaching your people.”

Mezot opened her mouth to speak but only a terrible rumble emanated. She pursed her lips and looked away, holding a hand over her stomach.

“How about we get something to eat?” Anton looked along the streets. Unlike at night there were many small stalls, desperately trying to hawk their wares. Most were food, the smells and smokes rising into the air in great plumes.

“And him?” Cetina nodded to the silent cart driver.

“If you’re from the Academy,” The driver nodded towards the white spires looming over the city. “I can head there and wait for you. You’re not the first people that have wanted to bring in cheap stuff.”

“An educational institution charging ridiculous amounts for equipment.” Anton scoffed. “Perish the thought.”

Mezot and Cetina shared a glance. Neither knew of some of the predatory practices of Earth.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Anton pulled out the silver and copper plates. “My treat today. So go wild.”

---[]---

“Here you go, love!” The stall owner passed over the greasy food. “A little extra onions for you. Looks like you could use it!”

The large man laughed a hearty laugh, his entire large stomach jiggling with every breath, wiped away the sweat forming on his brow and continued working over the hot stove. Anton smiled and stepped back to Cetina and Mezot, standing a few paces back to avoid the bustling and barging crowds.

Anton held the food close and pushed through the crowds. He held the food like it was a hard-earned prize.

“People are always such savages when they get hungry,” Anton said as Cetina took a step forward. “The moment they get hungry they become nothing more than wild animals.”

“What is it?” Mezot peered closely at Anton’s chest, like she was inspecting the Beast-kin.

“Beef in flatbread.” Anton passed one to Cetina. “And this one’s yours. Lots of onions.” He nodded backwards with his head. “That man thinks you’re not eating well.”

“I…” Mezot took her food and frowned at the meat, her eyes losing themselves in the hot, glistening juices slowly running down the thick piece of meat. “I normally wouldn’t eat this much meat in ten days.”

“You must still eat a fair amount,” Cetina mumbled through her food.

“Why?” Anton asked.

Cetina waited until Mezot was eating and thoroughly distracted before nodding to Mezot’s rather generous rear.

“To be fair,” Anton took a bite of his food. Despite the food vendor being rather cheap and on the city streets the meat and onions burst with flavour, even the bread had a pleasant taste as it absorbed the juices. “This is really good. Sorry. To be fair, Rasha doesn’t eat anything other than vegetables and fruit, and she’s bigger than all of us.”

Cetina chuckled. “That she is.”

A small crowd broke away from the passing crowds and descended upon the man’s shop. It was nearing lunch and the shop obviously had a good reputation. Cetina glared at those getting too close, they were somewhat off-put by such a brightly coloured and armoured woman, but the sheer number of people pushed them ever closer.

“Come on.” Anton lightly nudged a distracted Mezot forward. “I don’t want to see you two trampled.”

Anton directed them back to the main street and re-joined the foot traffic towards The Royal Academy.

“This is really good.” Mezot continued to nibble at her food. “Really good!”

“We have stuff like this in Atros.” Anton only received a beaming smile. “It’s actually rare…” Anton wrapped his free hand around Mezot and grabbed Cetina’s arm. “This way, you two. Cetina? Pull your cloak tighter.”

“Why?” Cetina still did as she was bid.

Anton led them off the street and to the window of a store. Cetina and Mezot threw him odd looks, Mezot refused to lower her food nor wonder why Anton still held her shoulder close.

“What’s happening?” Cetina adjusted her cloak to cover her bright armour. “You didn’t use magic, did you?”

“No.” Anton nodded across the street. “But that might actually be a good idea.”

Cetina and Mezot looked confused as Anton nodded across the street. Though the passing people they realised they were across the alleyway where they had lured the thugs and Cetina had promptly beaten to a bloody pulp. A line of thugs, dressed almost identically to those Anton had killed, prevented anyone from entering, all trying their best to look intimidating to the uncaring crowds.

“They’ve found the bodies.” Anton mused. “Don’t know why it took them so long. Surely the smell would be terrible by now.”

“Bodies?” Mezot looked up from her food. “What bodies?”

“Don’t worry.” Anton smiled and gently stroked her head. Mezot didn’t inquire further but wasn’t entirely satisfied, even when she went back to nibbling. “But we should leave before they notice.”

They swiftly re-joined the crowds and left. Anton dared not look back, just in case the thugs notice them or realised Mezot was with them, and only began to relax when they neared the gates of The Royal Academy. His heart sunk when he saw a group waiting just outside, watched closely by the heavily armoured guards. He recognised only one, the student who had almost thrown a stone at Mezot’s head because she had the temerity to ask them to not take up the entire pathway. He stood surrounded by better armoured thugs and an older butler standing just behind him.

Certainly related.

“Just keep your head down,” Anton said, not that Cetina needed such instruction. “Don’t draw attention to yourselves and let’s just head through.”

“What did you do?” Mezot only had a tiny morsel of food left, yet was drawing it out as long as possible.

“What if they keep going after her?” Cetina asked.

“What did you do?!” Mezot raised her voice, something that she was even unaccustomed to.

Anton gently sighed. “We dealt with those thugs that tried to beat and quite possibly murder you. If we let them go they would have only made things much worse.”

Mezot’s face and shoulders dropped.

“Wouldn’t you be using magic against people?” Cetina asked. “You used them against Goblins without hesitation.”

“It’s different.” Mezot finished what was left of her food. “It’s different.”

“We weren’t chastising you.” Anton offered Mezot a small piece of cloth, which she took to wipe her lips. “Just curious…Never mind. Let’s just get inside.”

But it does make things more difficult. They know who they sent the thugs after, maybe…I don’t know.

“Hey!” A voice cried out.

Anton tried to ignore it but the voice persisted.

“Hey!”

Anton forced his face to stay flat as he stopped and turned to the source. Unsurprisingly it was the young student, closely followed by his thug bodyguards and his butler.

Cetina could take all of them, even without her sword.

“Is something the matter?” Anton asked softly. He manoeuvred himself so Mezot was shielded slightly from view, not that she fully understood what was happening yet.

For all his bluster the young man didn’t know what to say. Anton wasn’t sure if he came from an environment where every whim and query was answered immediately but the young man did not speak a word.

“Well...We need to be going.” Anton gently pushed Mezot forward.

“Some of our companions are missing.” One of the thugs began. “You wouldn’t-”

“It would be awful if they got themselves into trouble after trying to attack a Master of the Royal Academy,” Anton said loudly, loud enough for the Academy guards to hear. “All because someone didn’t like a lecturer politely asking them to not take up the entire pathway.”

“What?” The young man appeared genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Your acting’s pretty good.” Anton made sure the thugs wouldn’t try to surround them, not much of a threat to him but it was doing Mezot no good. The Academy guards had clearly taken a great interest and were casually moving towards them. So far nothing untoward had happened but that could change at a moment's notice. “But you really need to stop taking things so personally. If you tried to threaten the lives of everyone that wronged you, you’re not going to live for very long. No matter how connected or powerful your family might be.”

“What are you talking about?” He looked to his older butler. “I was told that you might know something about them going missing. They were in the same place you were when they went missing.”

“How do you know that if they’re all missing?” Cetina asked softly.

Something clicked in the young man’s head. He glared at his older butler. “How...How would…”

“I think this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding.” The butler gently tried to pull the young man back. “Perhaps...Perhaps someone misspoke and set this whole thing into motion.”

“It’s an honourable thing to stand up for your charge.” Cetina’s eye glanced between the thugs before resting on the older butler. “But not by attacking a defenceless woman.”

The butler pulled away the young man who was already angrily questioning him about the disappearance.

He genuinely doesn’t know. Must have mentioned it offhandedly and his butler decided to take matters into his own hands.

The thugs began to disperse only when the Academy guards were a few feet away.

I think that’ll be the last time we’ll hear about this.

“Come on.” Anton beckoned them towards the entrance, towards their driver, dozing along with his horse. “We’re done here.”

---[]---

“That’s all of them.” Anton dusted his gloves free of the tiny splinters from the crates and chests of supplies. “But I’m guessing that you can’t come today?”

Mezot sat at her desk, Cetina by her side resting on the table. Mezot poured over the book before her, again bound with a light blue cover, but quickly raised her head when she realised Anton was speaking.

“I could…But I want to do something that I haven’t since I’ve become a Master.”

“Oh?” Anton stepped into Mezot’s study. “And what could that possibly be?”

Mezot grew slightly nervous. “I want to go to the library.”

“Okay…” Anton waited for further information but Mezot remained tight-lipped. He crouched next to Mezot. “So why is that…Something that makes you make that kind of face?”

“Masters are allowed into deeper sections of the library.” Mezot picked at her fingers. “And there are many books that normal people can’t get. I…I thought that we could go there and have a look. You wanted to know about the Beast-kin. I…Understand why you wanted to know about them. I’m certain there are more books in there, hidden in the locked areas.”

“That’s a great idea.” Anton smiled, he stood up. “I want to know more about The Burning Light. Either it created the Beast-kin or brought them to this world, like the soldiers from my world.”

Mezot frowned again.

“I’m sure there are many things that you’d like to read as well.”

“Yes!” Mezot was beside herself with glee. “I like to read about history. And these contain records beyond anything most people ever see, maybe even times before the United Empire. Not that those times are forbidden to know, but maybe there are things that the Graterious Empire doesn’t want to know.”

“I might be able to help a bit.” Cetina bumped Mezot’s shoulder. “I’ve learnt how to read, at least simple words.”

“Let’s just be nice to those old ladies.” Anton smiled. “Being polite can open a lot of doors.”

---[]---

“A Master?” The librarian chuckled, cracking her gnarled knuckles. “Haven’t you done well for yourself?”

“Thank you.” Mezot bowed her head. She glanced at the small golden medallion. “It took me a long time-”

“Far too long.” The librarian dismissively waved her hand. “Now, do you want something from us? I never guessed you were the type of person to gloat.”

“I…” Mezot didn’t know what to say next. She looked at Anton for help.

“We are looking for more information about The Burning Light,” Anton said. The Librarian’s eyes narrowed. “And last time we were here you told us it was off-limits to normal people.”

“I did.” The Librarian nodded once. “But is this what you want, a stranger, or Mezot? A Master of the Royal Academy?”

“I want to know,” Mezot said firmly. “Where are the books kept?”

The Librarian ruffled around her hidden benches and produced a small piece of paper, fresh ink staining the pages.

“Show this to the guard on the lowest level. He’ll let you through.” The Librarian returned to her tasks. “Follow the instructions and you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.” Mezot bowed deeply once more. The Librarian offered a coy smile then completely absorbed herself in her work.

Mezot skipped to Anton, presenting it like a proud child. “I’ve never received anything like this. Only Masters get them!”

“Get used to it.” Anton nudged her forward.

Mezot led the way forward, uncharacteristically happy in her stride, drawing some attention from those that would have known Mezot from before her promotion. Cetina drew attention as well but for completely different reasons. Many of the women were quite frail in comparison and did not move with the same measure of confidence, confidence that welled from her strength and skill as a soldier and not from a clique of sycophantic followers.

At this time of day the library was much busier, even at the lower levels. Some students were still using it as a place to sleep or rendezvous for a secret tryst, uncaring they were being watched by the guards placed on every level. Anton ignored all of them. Their prize waited near the bottom of the library.

“I wonder if there is actually a spell on how to create a volcano.” Anton wondered aloud. “Or if those Librarians were just trying to be funny.”

“I believe that would be an incredibly powerful magic,” Mezot replied. “Multiple mages working together can create large magics.”

“Can Principle and Glyph magic be used together?” Cetina sighed as she spied a couple engaging in a very passionate act while trying to act as surreptitious as possible. “They…They need to get a room. Certainly not in public.”

Mezot tried to slow and watch but Anton gently pushed her forward. A guard was already on his way to tell them to stop, he didn’t want to hear an incredibly awkward conversation.

By the time they reached the bottommost level normal people could access the only person present was a sleeping guard. He dozed next to the sealed entrance to the lower levels, his head resting against his chest.

A great place to have a nap, not so much the walk back up. But Cetina’s not worried about her armour so it might not be that bad. Then again Cetina wouldn’t say anything until she started to stumble. And even then…

“W-Who’s there?” The guard forced his eyes open, suppressing a giant yawn. “Oh. Right. I heard there was a new Master. Right.”

“We have this?” Anton showed the guard the piece of paper.

The guard nodded. “No need to explain yourself further. Not many Masters come down here but those that do love to flaunt their power and authority.”

Anton wanted to say something but he kept his mouth shut. There was nothing to gain by being snide.

The guard unlocked the metal chains and stepped to the side.

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.” The guard returned to his chair. “Just let me know when you’re done.”

Anton gave a curt nod as they began to descend. He passed the piece of paper to Mezot, she would understand the arrangement of the library better than him. Mezot’s stride became happier with every step. By the time she reached the next level she was practically dancing, like a child let loose in a candy store. After a few steps she stopped, hands frozen sticking out of her side and groaned. She glanced back and took a deep breath.

“I’ve never been so far down.” Mezot cracked a smile. “I’ve only seen these books from above. I’ve always wondered what they are…And…” Mezot’s smile faded. “I thought they would be more interesting.”

Cetina stopped by the first book. “The life of…Malso?” Her head twitched. “What is this?”

“I have no idea.” Mezot continued walking along the central corridor. “I will need time to study these.”

“You’re actually going to read all of these?” Anton asked, perusing the books. “Just don’t get lost down here.”

“I…I won’t.” Mezot gripped her hands tight. “I’m not the same woman I used to be.”

Mezot stopped abruptly. She pointed high on the bookcase, a black and gold bound book with the simple emblem of the United Empire emblazoned at the top. The books surrounding were old and rotten, some nothing more than piles of dust and eaten by tiny insects.

“That’s the one?”

Mezot nodded silently.

You’re still slipping from time to time. Nowhere near as bad…

Anton searched for a ladder but couldn’t find any. The hinges remained, as did a broken handle, but the broken ladder was nowhere to be found.

“Alright.” Anton rubbed his hands. “Cetina? Just make sure that I don’t fall.”

“Y-You’re going to climb that?” Cetina tapped the wood. “Alright…Just don’t jump on me without saying anything.”

I’m sure my dragonoid feet would make this easy. I wonder what Mezot will say when she sees them. I shouldn’t keep that from her forever.

Anton carefully climbed up the staircase, using the levels as steps. Cetina’s hand held the back of his leg as he clambered up. Mezot came close and lightly held his other leg, not that she would have the strength to hold him in any way. He reached and pulled the book free. It wasn’t a gold coating but rather an actual thin bar of gold, and gold is extremely heavy. For a moment his foot wobbled. Two hands gripped his legs tight but it wasn’t needed. When Anton looked down he saw Cetina getting ready to catch him, Mezot scrunching her eyes tight and holding out her other hand in readiness.

“I’m not that bad.” Anton slowly clambered down, holding the heavy book close to his chest. “But I might have been easier if I took off my boots.”

“Umm…” Cetina glanced at Mezot.

“No one comes down here.” Anton moved to the nearby desk. “Right?”

Mezot nodded. “Only Masters and higher can come here. Even the guards.”

“I haven’t seen anyone down here.” Cetina mused. She stepped ahead and cleared the dusty books from the table. A cover dropped free and crashed onto the ground. “Shit.”

Mezot sighed and picked up the book. “So much is neglected down here…So much knowledge…”

Cetina placed the old books down and took the cover from Mezot. Anton winced at the slight groan from the table when the book made contact.

“Since we’ve found what we need, well, what I want to know, there’s something I think you should see.” Anton faintly smiled. “Since you’re going to be doing so much for us.”

“Are…” Cetina scratched her neck. “I’m sure that it’ll be fine. She didn’t freak out when she saw Kal and Ulyaa.”

Anton chuckled. “Really the other way around.”

“What are you talking about?” Mezot frowned. “You aren’t a Beast-kin. Not even a…Half-Breed, like Kal. I hope it’s alright to call her that. It’s probably not the best word.”

“She’s been called much worse.” Anton sat on the chair and raised his boot. “Please don’t shout or scream when you see it.”

“Did you hurt yourself with your magic?” Mezot’s fingers searched for her staff, they instead gripped the hem of her robe. “Like that young boy? Your legs are damaged and warped by magic?”

“Not that sort of magic,” Anton grunted as the buckles came free. “Not mine or yours but something else.”

“Let me give you a hand.” Cetina placed her sword on the table before kneeling and helping him. Cetina grunted and pulled down harshly on his boot. Mezot winced as Anton pulled a face. Getting his boots on and off was not an entirely pleasant experience.

With a small heave, Cetina pulled his boot free. Mezot gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She remained transfixed on Anton’s dragonoid feet. Anton flexed the stiff toes, Cetina began to massage them to restore feeling and proper blood flow.

“Thanks, Cetina.”

“Getting them on is the problem,” Cetina mumbled.

“How did this happen?” Mezot’s curiosity took hold as she knelt next to Cetina. “What magic caused this?”

Her slender hands touched the spines rising out of his scales. Her breathing steadied as she began to inspect his foot, twisting and prodding at every part, uncaring that only a few moments ago she had thought he was deformed. Just as with Kal she focused on the claws, pinching the base hard as she moved it from side to side. Anton had already determined that the claws were firmly embedded into his body, not that Mezot would have accepted the explanation. She lightly pulled on the carapace, scratching it with her fingernail and surprised with its strength. Cetina threw Anton a knowing look as Mezot’s hands travelled up his leg, to the point where the two types of skin merged.

“A near-perfect merging of both types of skin.” Mezot mused. “Normally the skin is inflamed and sickly, weeping puss and blood-”

“That’s a relief,” Anton said softly.

“Yet there is nothing.” Mezot picked at the isolated scales. “The skin and scales are perfectly…”

“Do you know much about medicine?” Cetina asked, still kneeling beside her.

Mezot took a few seconds before she answered. “No. Only what I can see.” She let her hands drop to her knees. “What did you try to do to cause this?”

“I actually have a tail.” Anton raised his shirt.

Mezot’s eyes widened at seeing the tail bound around his waist. Either that or she was surprised at witnessing his exposed chest. Anton did not think that Mezot would have seen many men topless in a long time, and thanks to Cetina’s rigorous training he had more than a decent build.

“Can you…”

Anton lowered his shirt. “I just didn’t want you to freak out when you found out that I had a tail as well. You can imagine that it’s not something that I just show to anyone, nor let anyone know about lest they think that I’m a Beast-kin. Especially in my dealings with Seocuria.”

“So what did you do?” Mezot was already once again calm.

Anton and Cetina recounted the brief story, Anton adding his time in the White Realm. Mezot listened in perfect silence. At first her eyes narrowed, thinking they were joking but as the story continued she realised they were speaking the truth.

“So…Have you heard of anything like that?”

“No.” Mezot shook her head. She looked to the dusty books surrounding them. “I’ve never read anything like that. Maybe one of these books has some idea, but I’ve never heard of anything so…Especially that place you visited. I have no idea.”

“It was worth a shot.” Anton slowly put his boot back on. “There’s not many people I can show this to. Less than a dozen know, well…Not exactly. But not many.”

“They would certainly want to experiment with you.” Mezot’s eyes flashed with understanding. “Is that why you want to know about the Beast-Kin? You think it’s related?”

“The Dark Elves were conquered by the United Empire.” Anton motioned for both to rise. “During the conquest they only used humans. But after that Beast-kin were used by the United Empire. So something happened…I don’t think it’s what’s happening to me but there might be some clues.” Anton turned to the book. “Maybe this Burning Light had the first Beast-kin visit the White Realm when they were created, or whatever. Even if it’s not I’m very interested in the truth.”

“You’re going to have to speak out loud for me.” Cetina searched for more chairs, or a substitute stack of books. “Otherwise we’ll be thrown out before I’ve read more than a dozen pages.”

Cetina returned with two dusty chairs and placed them by Anton’s side. Anton opened the book, the heavy cover thudding loudly on the table. While the exterior held nothing but the symbol of the United Empire the first page was a different story.

“The History of the Burning Light.” Anton followed the beautiful calligraphy. “A historical novel by Waltheof Pavlovna, Chronicler of the United Empire.” Anton tapped the page. “So it’s a retelling of what happened. Might not be perfectly accurate but it’s going to be a good start…Unless they shift all the blame to the Beast-kin.”

“Possible.” Cetina mused. She shuffled closer, Mezot copied and leant over his other shoulder. “So what does it say?”

Anton cleared his throat and began to read.

Volume 05 - Chapter 22 - The Burning Light

"Please!" The brigand, sprawled on the ground in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood, pleaded once again. "Help me!"

Before he could speak another word a large spiked mace struck his head, splattering his brains and driving the bones into the ground.

"No." The attacker smiled. "Why should I? These idiots never learn, do they?" The attacker raised his hand in apology. “Don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

Lucon shook his head. "Our mission is to defeat the brigands and bandits currently assailing the United Empire's territory, not to vent your frustration."

Svafar shrugged, ripping the mace free from the ground. Clumps of bloodied mud dripped free from the metal spikes.

"But that's why you have us." Svafar laughed. "To put the fear of the Gods back into them."

Lucon sighed. "Tethra, give me strength. Why am I here with these…People?"

Lucon surveyed what was left of the battlefield. Over forty brigands lay dead, not one of theirs. Many were wounded but they took it in their stride. Most were pleased to have another scar to impress the locals, especially the women.

"She's a peaceful goddess." Svafar dismissively waved his hand. "You should try...Hey!" Lucon slapped the back of his hand. "Fucker broke my emblem. I've had that since I've started fighting. It's always brought me good luck!" He turned to the dead brigands, menacing his bloody mace at their corpses. "Was it you?! The one with the hair lip? Or you with the pathetic beard?"

Lucon could only shake his head as Svafar vented his frustrations on the bloody corpses. The others riffled through the pockets of the dead, looking for trinkets to sell. A distasteful practice but it kept the men in line.

Unlike Svafar and the rest of his men, who had travelled far from the Frozen heartland, Lucon hailed from an Administrative Zone. Administrative Zone three, to be precise. The same land he currently stood in. A land of rolling hills, small forests and abundant sunshine. Perfect for a simple and peaceful life.

Lucon lacked the raw strength and size of those from the Heartland, something scholars attributed to their cold and harsh environment, but compensated with the speed of his blade and the sharpness of his mind. At least that's what his superiors told him, and what he told himself when some of the men were becoming quarrelsome.

"Is this everyone?" A soldier asked Lucon. Like Svafar he wore thick padded armour, supplied by the United Empire forges from the frozen capital, Eidfell Trellbog, along with whatever scrap pieces they had festooned themselves.

"It is." Lucon sheathed his unbloodied blade. "Appears they sent too many of us for this band of rabble."

The large soldier laughed. "Yeah." He patted Lucon's shoulder, for the others hailing from the frozen heartland it was probably light but for Lucon it was much more significant. "You Zoner's are pretty funny."

"Lowlanders." Svafar held the soldier's shoulder. "Or maybe just Lucon. We've been told not to call them that. Remember?"

"But it's true." The soldier weakly protested before flashing a smile and returning to his pilfering.

Svafar waited until the others were clear. "They aren't going to respect you much until you bloody that little knife of yours."

"I'm a commander." Lucon retorted, figuratively holding his ground. "I don't need to get into battle myself. Besides, a few of you would be dead if you didn't listen to my orders."

Lucon pointed to the edge of the battlefield. Five brigands lay slumped against a tree, large crossbows at their feet.

Svafar scratched his impressive beard. "Where did they get them anyway? They don't look like ours, or even your people." Svafar winced slightly. "I know I just gave them shit...What's wrong?"

Lucon had barely listened to Svafar's words. His attention was drawn to the sky and how odd it looked.

"Does the sky look...green to you?" Lucon's voice was little more than a whisper.

Svafar squinted as he looked up. He frowned as he looked between the sparse clouds.

"Now that you mention it, it does look a little odd." Svafar shrugged. "Do you think it's some magical test?"

Despite the power and vast territory held by the United Empire, the number of mages it had was few and far between. And those that could actually perform magic on this scale were almost non-existent.

"No." Lucon placed a hand on his sword to calm himself. "This isn't any magic I've seen before."

The green tinge to the sky did not extend indefinitely. They stood near the edge of the anomaly, which did little to assuage his worries.

"I think it's a good time to leave." Lucon motioned away from the centre of the green sky. "We've done our duty-"

A lightning strike echoed through the air. Everyone stopped and looked to the source, right at the heart of the green sky. The few clouds floating underneath began to change, rapidly growing black and flattening into a disk. Lightning emerged from the top and licked at the sky.

"What is that?" A soldier stumbled backwards, coins and simple jewellery flew out of his hands.

Normally Lucon would admonish such a foolish question but he had no idea either.

"Time to leave!" Lucon yelled. The soldiers looked at Svafar who appeared annoyed they might need a second person to state the obvious.

"If it slows you down, drop it!" Svafar yelled back as they began to run. No one disobeyed him as the lightning grew longer and thinner.

They had barely left the battlefield when another terrible crack came from the sky. Lucon looked back and nearly fell over, his mind did not truly understand what he was seeing.

The sky was falling. Literally falling. Like giant sheets of glass, the sky broke apart and began to fall. Someone screamed, Lucon didn't know if it was his own voice, as they saw what lay beyond. Endless fields of flame, twisting and swirling colours of every conceivable shade twisted and writhed together in a frantic orgy of dominance. The next moment everything vanished in a blinding white light. Lucon's eyes screamed in pain, so too did everyone else. Lucon dropped to the ground. His fingers shook as they gripped tight onto the grass. It was small consolation that he could still feel when he could still see nothing.

"I can’t see!”

Lucon ignored the stupid comment and placed his head hard onto the ground. He did not know if the light was continuing to shine or if he was permanently blinded.

A terrible rush of wind washed over them, buffeting the trees and breaking many branches free. As they crashed around them Lucon’s vision began to return.

“I can see again!”

“Shut up!” Lucon yelled. “Shut up! None of us can see right now!”

A soldier swore but Lucon did not have the energy to pursue the minor insubordination. He pulled himself up and rubbed his eyes hard. With every blink, it became easier to see. First he could just make out vague shapes and colours, within a few beats he could make out the individual blades of grass around his hands.

“Wh…” Lucon forced himself to his feet. “What was that?”

“Fucking mages!” Svafar spat, a great goblet of spit ran down his beard. “I hate them! Always doing some tricky shit to fuck people over.”

“Healers are alright.” A different soldier said. Though Lucon could not see him he knew it was the soldier that had called him a Zoner. “My mum got use of her foot-”

“Hush.” Svafar snapped. He readied his mace. “We don’t know what’s happening.”

Lucon stared at the distant forest and continued to blink until his sight had completely recovered. When he turned back to the source of the light, the soldiers were slowly recovering and beginning to move to the tree line, he saw nothing amiss. The clouds were normal, the green tinge had disappeared and no sign of a falling sky or the swirling colours.

“Like it never happened.”

Lucon stood still in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes as he saw something rising against the clear, blue sky. Smoke.

“Something struck there.” Lucon pointed to the smoke. The soldiers, those that could see properly, grumbled and shook their heads. “We need to investigate.”

“You just said that we’ve done our duty-”

“I know!” Lucon took a deep breath. “I know. But this…I’ve never heard of anything like this. And if it is something serious, an invasion or some magical attack, the United Empire needs to know. It could be days before they get someone to this region.”

“There are towns everywhere.” A different soldier said. He tapped his weapon, a short spear, into the ground. “Someone will have seen something…If they can still see, and they’ll tell the Empire.”

“This area is sparsely populated.” Lucon shook his head. “And they still don’t like the United Empire. Especially since so many people have been levied for the conquest of The Shadow Isles.”

Svafar leant close. “You don’t think it’s them? Do you? I heard those Dark Elves are really nasty to fight.”

“I don’t…” Lucon dropped his shoulders. “I don’t know. But if it is we need to know.”

“You heard him!” Svafar began slapping the heads of those still not standing. “Let’s get moving. Find out what stupid shit is happening over there and, if it is bad, get out of there. We’re not going to fight some horrific monster.” Svafar looked at Lucon. “Right?”

“Absolutely not.” Lucon checked his sword. “Let’s go.”

---[]---

What first struck Lucon was the state of the animals as they neared the source of the smoke. They too had been blinded, from a magnificent deer to a tiny mouse. They stammered back and forth, their eyes still frantically searching for anything. When they heard them approach they fled, even if they could not see. Lucon had never felt such pity for an animal compared to the deer that knocked itself out cold running into a tree. A soldier asked if they could kill it for the meat but most were just sorry to see the deer in such a sorry state. By the time they had passed the deer had recovered, though it had a decided limp to its walk.

The smell of smoke grew stronger, some of the upper leaves of the trees were burnt and twisted as they neared a hill. Svafar raised his fist, ordering them to slow, as they began the ascent. Dead birds littered the ground. Their eyes were all stark white, completely and utterly burned out. The shock alone had killed them.

“Thank the Gods the brigands weren’t this far.” A soldier murmured.

Svafar ordered him to hush and began to crawl low. The grass was now dried and crispy, crunching under them.

“Any ideas?” Svafar asked.

“None,” Lucon whispered back.

The top of the hill ended abruptly with a still burning edge. Where there should have been trees now stood charred husks, their branches charred black with a red interior, the air above shimmering with heat.

“Get your weapons ready.” Lucon quietly ordered. “Anything ranged would be good.”

The soldiers prepared their javelins, short spears tipped with black obsidian. Though the glassy material had been replaced with steel in most of the United Empire’s armies it still found use in some of the more eccentric forces. No one would deny its effectiveness against exposed flesh.

Svafar crawled on his belly to the top. He winced as his hand touched a hot ember that had broken from one of the branches.

“I can’t see anything.” He whispered back harshly. “Too much smoke. It’s clearing…Whatever that thing was,” He pointed to the sky with his thumb. “It took out most of this hill.”

Lucon ordered the soldiers to spread out along the ridgeline while he moved next to Svafar. Thick, acrid smoke rose from a crater that had once been the top of a small hill. He peered over the edge, the soldier opposite was ready to pull him back at a moments notice, and followed the perfectly smooth curve.

“It’s a large crater.” Lucon gripped the burnt edge. “But it’s not very deep. The centre is somewhere down there. If there is something I bet that’s where it’ll be.”

“We should wait for the smoke to clear a bit first.” Svafar readied his short javelin. “We’ll probably kill each other if we head in there now.”

Lucon agreed, so they waited. Time crept forward at a glacial pace. Puffs of steam and smoke, as something superheated by the pillar of light finally erupted, continued to bellow out. Slowly it faded and Lucon could see further into the crater.

“There’s someone in there!” A soldier yelled.

Lucon had difficulty remembering most of their names, these people weren’t expected to last long, but he knew he was their best scout, with the best set of eyes.

“Right in the middle. There appears to be a small area that hasn’t been burnt.”

The soldier spoke the truth. Through the clearing smoke Lucon could make out a vague outline of someone lying prone in the middle, curled up and not moving.

“We need to get in there.” Lucon rose up. “Find out if they’re okay.”

“You’re not wondering what they’re doing in the middle?” Svafar raised his brow, waving to the devastation surrounding them. “That they survived this?”

“I…I don’t know.” Lucon signalled to two soldiers. “But we need to know. Be incredibly cautious and careful. If it looks like you’re walking into a trap then get out of there.”

The two grumbled a complaint but followed his orders nevertheless. They vaulted over the ridge of the crater and advanced on the body. Another wave of smoke erupted and obscured their vision. Lucon’s chest tightened as he could no longer see them. Though soldiers’ lives were to be spent it was a poor commander that spent them frivolously.

“Lucon!” A soldier emerged back through the smoke. His face only showed an unfathomable level of confusion. “You need to see this!”

Svafar nodded and jumped over the edge of the crater. Lucon glumly nodded and followed. The smooth stone forming the surface of the crater was incredibly warm, so warm that a few moments was enough to make each step very uncomfortable. A small gust of wind blew through the crater and dispersed most of the smoke. The two soldiers stood either side of the body but, even after what had already transpired this day, Lucon was not prepared for what lay before him.

At first, Lucon thought it was an animal, the creature had a short yet thick coat of a light brown fur covering its entire body, yet it was not just some creature. It lay away from Lucon, so he could see its legs, long and thin with cat-like feet, complete with small pads and sharp claws that curled around its long toes. A long tail lay limp and curled near its rear. It was not a decorative piece, Lucon could plainly see where it was attached to the body. Above that he saw its hands, long fur-covered fingers with equally menacing claws, curled up to its chest. A thick piece of smoke obscured its head but Lucon was no longer in the mood to doubt anything.

The smoke all but disappeared. The creature was a she; at least that's what the pair of modest breasts told him, though they were completely covered in a thinner fur, compared to her back and legs. For a brief instant, he presumed that they functioned similarly to a wolf or a cat. Her ears were long, as long as a Dark Elves but covered in a very fine coat of fur, especially inside the ear itself. Hair, actual hair, flowed out of her head and stopped just above her shoulders. It was difficult to tell which was which.

Her face twitched, apart from the fur perfectly humanoid, and her eyes opened. Horizontal cat slits greeted him, her iris a brilliant blue. She muttered something and tried to pull herself up but her muscles were too weak. Lucon's instinct to help, and that of the others, were overridden by the absurdity of what they were witnessing.

"Fretu ty isbka?" She spoke very softly. When she opened her mouth Lucon saw they were sharp and jagged, like a predator.

"Iokdhe?" She asked louder.

"What did she say?" A soldier asked Svafar.

Her eyes shot open and swivelled around everyone in a mad panic.

"Gawhdj!" She screamed. She tried to scamper away but her arms failed her, falling headfirst into the hot ground. She screamed and retreated to her safe circle at the centre of the crater.

"It's alright." Lucon raised his empty hands to try and convey he meant no harm. "Can you understand me?"

The cat woman said nothing. She held her clawed hands close to her chest. Just when Lucon began to think being naked was her normal condition she began to panic once again, curling her body into a ball while covering her crotch and breasts. Her tail wrapped itself around her torso.

"I don't think you can," Lucon mumbled. "Someone give her something to cover herself with."

Svafar ripped a long piece free from his side and offered it to her. She was hesitant to take it at first but after a quick sniff and knowing she was still naked she snatched it from his hand and wrapped it around her body tight.

"I know this is going to be fun," Svafar muttered.

Lucon could not help but agree. However, this was something they could not run away from. They had to do it right.

Lucon crouched low. "Do you have a name?"

The cat woman continued to frown but her demeanour had improved once she realized they weren't hostile.

Lucon pointed at himself. "Lucon. Lucon."

The woman slowly nodded. Though she could not understand their language she was more than intelligent to understand what they were attempting.

Svafar did the same, pointing to the other soldiers. By the end her body had relaxed, her ears no longer rigid and pulled back hard.

Lucon turned to her hand pointed.

"Ikel." She pointed at her face. "Ikel."

Lucon smiled and stood up. "At least we've got the basics down right."

"What now?" Svafar asked. Ikel glanced between them in worry. She must have been worried they were planning something horrible in a language she did not understand.

"We take her back to the nearest fort." Lucon pulled out a map. Ikel became very interested at the sight of paper but Lucon did not let her look. It contained the locations of many important military sites, not that they were particularly difficult to find. "They have a Fire Scrier. High Command will know what to do."

Svafar scoffed. "I doubt that."

"So do I. But we have rules and procedures for a reason." Lucon motioned for Ikel to stand. "We're leaving."

Lucon pointed out of the crater. Now the smoke had cleared she could see the rest of the soldiers, and the hot ground between them.

Ikel stood but shook her head. A string of nonsensical words emanated from her mouth. She stopped mid-sentence and pointed to her clawed feet. When she raised them, carefully to not let the cloth slip, Lucon saw the thick pads were slightly inflamed, the very edges were much darker and looked burned.

"Alright. We can't get you any boots so we'll just have to carry you."

Ikel pointed to her feet again. Lucon tried his best to show how they wanted to carry her out of the crater. She held a hand close to her chest and nodded slowly.

"Svafar. You or one of your men will have to carry her. I'm not strong enough."

Svafar sighed and offered his hands to Ikel. She hesitates but still took them, but she did not shift herself to be carried. Svafar gingerly scooped up her legs, always watching her face and the sharp claws that would easily tear through his neck. She shifted in his arms but only to become more comfortable. Svafar shrugged and began to walk. Ikel gripped his armoured chest tight but neither said a word about it.

"Do you think she eats normal food or only fish?" A soldier asked. "I mean, how does it all work down-"

"Be thankful she cannot understand you." Lucon cut in. "Remember, you may not be on the front lines but you still represent the United Empire, so always act accordingly."

"Am I going to carry her the whole way?" Svafar asked loudly. Ikel looked at him strangely then to Lucon. She had already worked out the chain of command.

"We'll commandeer a cart if we find someone on the way." Lucon clicked his tongue. "I'm sure they'll understand we're in an unprecedented situation."

---[]---

Ikel devoured the food before her like a ravenous wolf. She barely took breaths between mouthfuls, one hand was always full while the other was stuffing her face. The soldiers were mildly impressed by such a display of gluttony.

"That's her fourth plate." Svafar marvelled. "She'll devour the fort's entire food supply if we let her."

Lucon glumly nodded. "At least she can eat our food. Keep an eye on her, I need to make a report."

Svafar gave a rough salute. Even though it was little more than a hand raised to his brow it was a vast improvement over the rest of the soldiers.

Lucon left Ikel in his capable hands and left the open air mess hall. Ikel presence had drawn quite a crowd, so large the local fort commanders were having difficulty in maintaining order. It wasn't every day that something like Ikel just walked in, doubly so after the pillar of light. As Lucon wormed his way through the gathered soldiers he heard them talking about the bright pillar of light. This fort was far enough away that it hadn't blinded anyway, though many still had some difficulty in seeing clearly for some time afterwards.

The crowds quickly thinned as Lucon arrived at the command post, a simple wooden structure designed to be easy to build and defend. The guards, a mixture from the Heartland and the Administrative Zones, gave him a small nod before allowing him through. He could see the curiously plastered on their faces as clear as day. They wanted to ask but were not permitted.

A squat man sat inside at one of the many small tables. He was almost buried in paper but tried to work his way out of it.

"Hello." Lucon did not know this man's name either. "I need to use a Fire Scrier immediately to contact High Command."

The squat man looked up from his paperwork. "There are many reports-"

"Have you heard what we've discovered?" Lucon forced himself to pause, to catch his breath. One of the few things that brought his blood to boil was people so stuck in their ways and rules they would not act.

"I have..."

"High Command would be very interested to know why you kept such information from them by not using a Fire Scrier immediately."

The man dramatically sighed and delicately placed down his pen. "Very well. I'll let them know."

He jumped from his seat and slowly walked to the back of the command post. A simple wooden door awaited them, emblazoned with the emblem of the United Empire but with an additional marking. A large flame surrounded the shield, the sign of a Fire Scrier.

Inside lay a very simple arrangement of furniture along with a particularly large and ornate metal brazier. I'm the corner an older woman, not from the Heartland, sat patiently, her eyes following their every movement.

"This man says he needs to speak with High Command." The squat man had already begun walking away. "I'll leave it to you."

The woman raised a brow but did not question it further.

"It will take some time." The woman rose from her chair. As she approached the brazier she drew a small purse from her pockets, barely larger than his thumb. "But, are you sure that you wish to speak to them? This is outside of the normal structure of command."

"I do." Lucon gently gripped his fists. "I'm actually of a decently high rank so I hope they listen."

The Fire Scrier emptied the contents of the small purse, a fine blue powder, over the dull embers. Instantly the flames came to life, reaching almost to the ceiling yet giving off almost no heat. The Fire Scrier spoke in a hushed tone to the flame. People flickered in and out of existence. Lucon knew better than to ask what was happening. During his early days, he had almost been flogged for disrupting a Fire Scrier while they were working.

Lucon's body tensed as a group of ten men came into the flame. These men formed High Command, the highest military authority in the United Empire.

"Lucon." The man on the furthest right began. "Why have you used emergency authority to contact us? I'm sure you're well aware of the consequences of misusing your authority."

"I am." Lucon felt his voice waver for a moment. "I believe that what I have witnessed constitutes an emergency."

Two of the other men stopped their discussion and listened in.

"Very well." The man placed down his quill. "Explain to us the situation in the most simple of terms."

Lucon tried to recount the story as accurately as possible. When he reached the changing colour of the sky the man raised his hand for Lucon to pause. He caught the others attention and told them to listen. Lucon did his best with all ten staring at him, some in disbelief, others trying their best to make sense of something that even he did not understand.

"And that is where we are right now." Lucon coughed lightly. "That concludes my report."

He glanced to the Fire Scrier. She had remained perfectly silent, even through the less believable parts.

"This...Creature." An older man in the centre began to speak. "She is with you now?"

"Yes. Currently she is eating under heavy guard and supervision."

"I see..." The man stroked his short, well-trimmed beard. "Anything else of note?"

"She appears quite intelligent. She understood our names and who they are associated with. She asked...pointed at things and animals we passed. I don't believe she's wild, despite her physical appearance."

"We will continue to investigate this further." The central man began to write on a fine piece of paper. "All of your current assignments are hereby voided. You and your men are to bring her to the capital with all speed. Use whatever means of transport you can find. Money is no issue."

"Understood." Lucon saluted. "I'll have her brought to the capital immediately."

The man nodded and the flames slowly died back. The conversation was over.

---[]---

"Back home?" Svafar asked. "That's a decent trip. Especially with winter coming any day now."

"I know." Lucon spared Ikel a glance. She had finished eating at her ravenous pace and merely picked at what remained. Her eyes looked at her food but her attention was focused on what they were saying. "But those are our orders. And I have no intention of pissing off High Command."

"You actually spoke with them?" A soldier leant in close. "All of them?"

Lucon knew they knew High Command was not some elusive spectre, but it was unusual for someone like him to get an audience, even briefly.

"Yes. All of them."

The soldier whistled. "You've got some serious balls on you."

Lucon smiled but did not understand the point he was making. Overall, High Command was rather pleasant and agreeable, especially to some people that Lucon had served under.

"Here's hoping Ikel doesn't get stoned to death." Svafar scoffed. "Some of these people are superstitious and, quite frankly, stupid."

"We'll get her some clothes. Proper ones." Lucon looked at Ikel's hands. "I don't know how cold-resistant her fur is. But maybe we'll learn what language she speaks, or she learns ours. It's going to be difficult to communicate if all she can do is point and repeat the word."

Svafar slammed the table. "You heard him. We're going home!"

The soldiers cheered, Ikel appeared very confused, as was Lucon. Once they dropped her off at the capital they would probably be sent back here, or perhaps even to The Shadow Isles, if things were going as poorly as he had been told.

---[]---

"What is that?" Ikel leant out of the slow carriage, pointing into the snow. "I saw move..." She scratched her ear as she sought the right word. "Movement! I saw movement over there."

Lucon pulled the thick curtain back. “I believe that’s a deer.”

A solitary deer stood proud on a rock jutting above the thick snow. It noticed their presence, stood perfectly still before dashing away, great plumes of snow following its passing.

“A deer!” Ikel happily exclaimed. “So that’s what they’re called.”

Ikel slumped back into the soft seat. “What a strange creature.”

Svafar slowly shook his head as he looked out the window as well. “Not too many of them now. I think the United Empire needs to call a ban on hunting again. Well, guess I’ve just figured out what our next job is.”

Ikel tilted her head, her ears pricked up but she did not ask what he meant. She rested back into her seat and pulled a fur blanket around her body.

Lucon was thoroughly impressed by Ikel’s ability to learn languages. Less than seven days had passed since her violent arrival and already she had a better grasp of their language than some who had spoken it their entire lives. She was infinitely fascinated by everything and never asked a question twice. Lucon had quizzed her, as surreptitiously as he could, and she did not forget. While impressive it made Lucon increasingly suspicious that she was hiding something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was but there was something about her. She claimed she had no memory until she arrived at the crater but one would not claim a deer to be strange and not a hare.

“We’ll be in somewhere nice and warm soon.” Svafar laughed. “Lots of food, a roaring flame and cosy beds. Not having to sleep on these seats. Not that they’re bad, mind you.”

Lucon was eternally thankful they had found someone willing to travel to Eidfell Trellbog, comfort aside, so they didn’t have to commandeer their transportation. High Command had instructed him to come with all possible speed but it still would have left a bad taste in his mouth.

“What is this made from?” Ikel rubbed the soft cotton seats. “It’s not animal skin, like this.” She pulled at the fur blanket. “Is it a type of hair or fur?”

“A product from a plant,” Lucon said. “Not one that grows here. It’s too cold.”

Ikel frowned. She held a clawed finger to her lips. “How…How did you know about it? If you come from this frozen land then how do you know…Oh? Did you…What’s the right word. Trade for it?”

Lucon held his tongue for a moment. He did not know if she was digging for information or simply curious. There was no harm in general information that she could discover from literally everyone.

“The United Empire conquered the lands below.” Lucon began. “The warmer lands, where we discovered you. They grow it there and we’ve brought it back to the Heartland.”

“But you aren’t from the Heartland.” Svafar smiled. “Your skin is too dark.”

“I wondered about that,” Ikel said softly.

“Not as dark as the people from Seocurkural.” Svafar smiled. “The first time my people saw them we thought they had fallen into tar and tried to help them. Oh…Oh those were some very, very awkward stories.”

Ikel appeared genuinely concerned but, again, did not ask what he meant.

The Heartland continued to pass them by. Despite the snow falling around them the roads were clear. Lucon looked out the window again and found those clearing the roads. Shackles adorned their wrists and ankles as they shovelled away the snow. Burly taskmasters followed them close behind with large wooden cudgels. Only a single strike was necessary to force the slaves onward.

“What are they doing?” Ikel asked as she leant close to Lucon.

“Criminals,” Lucon mumbled. “Mainly rapists and murderers.”

“What is that?”

“Bad people,” Svafar mumbled. “Very bad people that did horrible things to others.”

“So…” Ikel shook her head.

Lucon did not like how she was about to say something and decided to keep it to herself. Almost like she understood the concept of slaves, like she knew it was ethically wrong.

One of their soldiers shouted and pointed forward. Lucon smiled as he laid eyes on Eidfell Trellbog, capital of the United Empire. The city was truly a marvel, Lucon remembered the first time he had seen it and it completely took his breath away. Ikel gasped, unable to hide her utter shock.

Eidfell Trellbog had been built around a large solitary mountain, completely encompassing the mountain with layers upon layers of buildings. The layers formed disks of snow and roughly cut stone, hundreds of trails of smoke rose from giant chimneys that Lucon knew fed from hundreds of smaller furnaces and fireplaces. From the centre a great plume of smoke rose into the clear blue sky. Deep from within the mountain, forges worked tirelessly to create the weapons and armour needed by the United Empires armies. Not all were created in this one place but the vast majority were made in this one place.

“It’s huge!” Ikel exclaimed. “It’s…It’s an entire mountain!”

“And it goes far inside too,” Lucon said calmly. “Almost four hundred thousand people call Eidfell their home.”

Ikel’s mouth was agape. Svafar laughed at her expression, like she was a remote village girl seeing a large city for the first time.

“I…I don’t believe it.” Ikel leant out the window again. “Four hundred thousand, you say?”

“At least.” Svafar smiled. “Probably a lot more. The United Empire can’t keep a proper count of everyone.”

“Really…”

Again Lucon had the feeling that Ikel was hiding something. Reflecting on it Lucon guessed that he would make the same choices if he remembered where she came from. Right now it was in her best interests to play dumb. Perhaps later she would start to remember things, as they were needed and to extend High Command’s interest in her.

Riders came forward from the city’s walls. The large, squat horses ploughed through the snow like the finest iron plough through his homeland’s soil. They were not going to attack them but escort them to safety, not that there was anything to fear so close to the capital of the most powerful Empire in the known world.

“Big deers?” Ikel asked, bringing her head back inside the carriage. “How do you ride something that ran away the moment it saw you?”

“Horses,” Svafar said calmly. “I suppose you could call the deers. They’re a lot stronger…We ride them so we can move quickly, in and out of battle.”

“How do they follow instructions?” Ikel peered out. “Do you tell them?”

“No.” Lucon shared a glance with Svafar, who merely shrugged at her question. “They have…reins that guide them.”

“That’s…That’s very interesting.”

Ikel retreated back into the carriage. Lucon hoped High Command would not go too hard on her.

---[]---

Lucon waited impatiently outside the large Adamantium door that protected High Command. Both he and Svafar were instructed to wait while the Ten spoke with Ikel. Lucon worried if she would hold herself together under their scrutiny and how well it would reflect on him.

"Relax." Svafar slapped his shoulders hard. "You're going to put her off, just by you being so nervous."

"Why? Why shouldn't I be nervous?" Lucon took a slow and deep breath, his voice had turned shrill under the stress, albeit self-inflicted. "We're just a few feet away from the Ten. They could have us killed if Ikel says we were rude or upset her."

"You worry too much." Svafar placed both hands on his head, letting his elbows splay out. "She seems like a good person."

Lucon had said nothing about how long they had spent awake at night, discussing nearly every possible topic. He found it odd that one could be attracted to a being so different from themselves. Nevertheless, it did not matter to Lucon, so long as it didn't interfere with anything.

"She knows more than she lets on," Lucon said softly. "A lot more."

"That she does." Svafar smiled.

A knock came from behind the door. The plethora of guards moved to open the heavy doors. Unlike Svafar, and the rest of his men, these were actual soldiers of the United Empire. Elite soldiers at that. Their armour and weapons were crafted to the highest possible standard, nothing was bent or roughly forged. Lucon did find their choice of weapons to be odd, all wielded axes of different sizes.

Ikel emerged, a little shaken but kept her head up. Behind Lucon saw the Ten engaging in a furious discussion. About what Lucon could not tell. He caught the word metal and power on their lips but little else, the door began to close the moment Ikel stepped through.

"How'd it go?" Svafar asked softly.

Ikel let out a deep sigh. "I think it went well. I answered everything they asked, to the best of my ability. They want me to stay in Eidfell. When I started talking to them I began to remember bits of what happened before."

Lucon forced himself to make an inquisitive face, Svafar appeared genuinely surprised.

"Anything on how you came here or a way to get back?"

Ikel's ears drooped. "No. I don't. But I do remember that I was some sort of...metal researcher. I recalled ways to make very strong iron. Far stronger than what you have now."

Svafar ran a finger over the edge of the small axe he wielded. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true! At least...I think it's true."

"Did you use that as to bargain with the Ten?" Lucon asked.

"Yes. They've given me my own workshop and everything that I could possibly need to make the stronger metal."

"Just be careful." Svafar leant close. "Just make sure that you don't give everything up at once."

Ikel tilted her head, her ears spread as wide as they could.

"Make sure they don't get everything they want...If they do then there's no reason to keep you around."

"I find that hard to believe," Lucon said. "The United Empire has treated everyone that has helped them extremely well. Even if you only improve our iron then that should be more than enough for you to live comfortably...Unless you do have more. In which case they'll probably let you do whatever you want."

Ikel nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Ideas and thoughts floated through her head until they coalesced. Her smile widened.

"They told me to start right away...What's happening to you two?" Ikel appeared genuinely concerned. "Are you leaving this city? Going to fight these wars I keep hearing about?"

"Maybe." Svafar shrugged. "It all depends on what Lucon gets assigned to. My men and I have to follow his commands...Not that that's a bad thing."

Lucon smiled, Ikel laughed and tapped both of their shoulders.

"Before anything I want to try some of this rum I've heard of."

"Oh." Svafar chuckled nervously. "You might not want to go that heavy right away-"

The heavy boot steps of an elite soldier stopped Svafar. He held a simple piece of paper in his hand, a wax insignia of the United Empire and of High Command.

"Is this for me?" Lucon asked softly.

The soldier nodded. "It was just handed to us."

He nodded to a small hole in the stone wall to the side of the gate. The covered hole was large enough to allow a tightly wrapped scroll through but little else.

"Thank you." Lucon saluted the elite soldier. It was returned despite both working for different branches of the army and the complicated difference in rank.

Lucon quickly skimmed the scroll. Svafar and Ikel leant close to catch a glimpse.

"Says that we're staying."

"Yes!" Both exclaimed simultaneously.

Lucon raised his hand. "We're to assist you in whatever research endeavour you may have, so long as you get written approval by the Ten."

"Ikel sounds like she wants to research what being shit-faced is like."

Ikel did not understand. Idioms and sayings would take a long time to understand.

"Oh." Lucon smiled. "Looks like I'm to be promoted."

"Congratulations." Svafar laughed. "Now you won't be able to...No, you still will, won't you."

"You could be working for someone far, far worse," Lucon said snidely. "Someone who would just throw you into battle, discarding a piece of meat."

"And I am extremely grateful for that." Ikel laughed, her tail swirled behind her. “But let’s try this rum first.”

---[]---

"Here we go!" Ikel said happily. She wore a full suit of thick leather as she instructed the United Empire Smiths. Her fur bad burned in several places already and it smelt awful.

"I hope this will be as strong as she claims it will be," Lucon mumbled softly.

"Have some faith." Svafar laughed. "She hasn't let us down yet."

"Just let it cool." Ikel waved back the eager smiths. "You don't want to burn yourselves."

"But you already have." Svafar pointed to the slightly blackened patches of her fur, the ends tiny black beads where they had melted from the extreme heat. "You were offered protection."

Ikel dismissively waved her hand. "I don't want them to mess this up. I'm sure your bosses are getting annoyed that it's taking so long."

Lucon leant against the wall some paces away. "It's been three days since you started. I'm sure they'd give you all the time you need if they see you making progress."

"Still..." Ikel looked back to the cooling bar of metal.

Svafar slowly walked to Lucon's side. "She really is a strange woman, isn't she? How many women so you know that want to work here? With all this heat, smoke and sweat?"

Lucon quickly looked around the large smithy. There were indeed no women but there were very few men present as well. This smithy, really a forge, was where many experiments were undertaken. It had the best equipment but little was produced here. Nevertheless, the smiths were more than intrigued to hear about Ikel and her new metal.

"If it's as good as she claims then she'll be set for life." Lucon mused.

"She even mentioned a way to smelt and work Adamantium." Svafar whistled. "If they had been excited about her before they're going to be jumping out of their chairs now."

"Indeed." Lucon slowly nodded. "They have been very excited of late."

Lucon decided to omit that he had been pushing for a promotion, using Ikel's knowledge as a bargaining chip. At the very least he soon wouldn't be dealing with penal soldiers.

"Get ready to submerge it in the water." Ikel's hand hovered near the glowing piece of metal. The smiths too watched on in anticipation, the burly man holding the long metal tongs looked to Ikel, waiting for the instruction.

"Now!"

Steam erupted from the water, a great roar followed. The nearby smiths backed away while Ikel watched on with visible excitement. At least that's what her swaying tail told Lucon. Only when the steam had completely subsided did Ikel allow the metal to be raised. Truth be told it looked like a normal piece of metal, albeit with slight blue and orange discolouration.

"This is perfect!" Ikel hugged the smith holding the metal. He was unsure how to react so remained perfectly still. "I thought it would be more difficult, but you guys..." Ikel laughed. “You guys really know what you're doing."

Despite the compliment coming from a nonhuman the smiths shuffled awkwardly and muttered words under their breath. Ikel seemed not to mind, quite the opposite actually.

"Let's give this a look then." The smith mumbled. "Looks like it'll be pretty strong."

"I hope so." Ikel wiped away another handful of sweat from her face. "I know your High Command won't be happy if this doesn't work properly."

"Bah." The smith dismissively waved his stubby hand. "Let those scheming fools do whatever they want. But even if it's not that strong it certainly looks interesting."

Ikel smiled but Lucon could tell that she was very nervous. He had not heard anything from above but they could just change their mind on a whim and send her to the scientists for dissection.

The Smith placed the metal bar onto the table and produced a small wooden box. Inside lay a series of implements, all with a very sharp point.

"If it beats this." The Smith held up one of the implements with the number seven on its side. "Then it's better than most of the steel we can produce. Probably as good as what the Blood Hammers can make."

Lucon had yet to see a Dwarf but had heard many fantastical things about the stubby men and women.

The Smith ran the edge of the implement along the metal bar. There was no scratch left behind, nothing at all. He frowned and wiped away a tiny trail of metal.

"Well, that's interesting. It just peeled this off like it was nothing. Let's try something a little stronger."

He produced an implement with the number eleven on the side. He ran it across the metal again, this time it left a tiny mark. He checked with the numbers either side, eleven was its strength.

"This is incredible." The Smith laughed as he put the implements back into their box. "It's basically iron. Not Chelium or Bosciycium, and yes it's only a little bit softer than Adamantium. Ikel. You don't have anything to worry about from High Command. If anything they'll be drooling over this."

"Yes!" Ikel grabbed both Lucon's and Svafar's hands and jumped with joy.

Lucon felt the soft pads of her hand, a very strange sensation. What was even more strange was the dirty look Svafar threw at him. It softened when Lucon relinquished his touch but Svafar did not.

"This is so exciting!" Ikel continued to bounce with joy. "If you two men will excuse me for a moment, I need to instruct them on how to mould this metal properly. It's not easy and if they do it wrong it could damage its strength."

Ikel gave a tiny wave before almost skipping to the smith's, holding her hands tight behind her back and above her swaying tail.

"I'll never get tired of looking at that," Svafar mumbled.

"Her tail is rather pretty." Lucon turned his attention to the desk of papers.

"No...Not that-"

"Svafar. I don't care what you do or with whom." Lucon did not raise his eyes from the papers. "So long as it doesn't interfere with Ikel's ability to produce results, what she or you do in your own time is of no consequence. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

Lucon did not look back but he was certain Svafar was not saluting him properly. In truth he suspected Svafar was attracted to Ikel, Ikel was not like most women of the United Empire, beyond her physical appearance. There was something alluring about a woman that had such fire and energy but Ikel held no such sway over Lucon.

"Let's hope High Command will appreciate this," Lucon mumbled. "Then I might finally be able to get a promotion away from the penal legions."

"Do you hate us that much?" Svafar asked, a teasing tone to his voice.

"Of course I did." Lucon smiled. "But who's to say that hasn't changed?"

---[]---

Twelve days had passed since Ikel created the new type of steel. As the Smith's predicted High Command was positively ecstatic with the results. Ikel offhandedly requested a private laboratory and workshop, before she could speak a massive room had been granted for her personal use. And that was before Ikel said she had more things to give to the United Empire. However, not everyone was getting everything they wanted. Lucon paced back and forth in his small room, situated near Ikel's massive laboratory and workshop, clutching the piece of paper so tightly the edges had torn.

Someone knocked on the door.

"It's unlocked." Lucon spat out, refusing to take his eyes off the paper.

"There's no need for that," Svafar said as he opened the door. "I thought yesterday everything was going well?"

Lucon sighed and placed the paper on his desk. "It was. Until I received this."

Ikel peered around Svafar's shoulder. She had taken to wearing normal clothes, even though her fur coat meant she was fairly resistant to the cold, and even wore a few accessories, like a small golden bracelet and a thick scarf.

"What's wrong?" Ikel asked. She word thick boots, however they had to be specially formed for her unusual feet.

Lucon said nothing and thrust the paper towards Svafar. He took it but his face quickly contorted into a frown.

"I can't..."

"Let me have a look at it." Ikel gently took the paper from Svafar. Lucon was so incensed by its contents he didn't notice her lingering touch on his arm.

"Let's see...You applied for a higher position and-"

"They denied it." Lucon sighed and leant back into his chair. "That's the third attempt I've had. Any more and-"

"They'll start to get angry?" Ikel raised a fur-covered brow.

"Yes." Lucon sighed. "That's exactly right. Even if I deserve it they’ll throw it back in my face."

"Sounds like they want to keep you around since you discovered Ikel." Svafar smiled at her. "I don't mean-"

"It's alright." Ikel lightly punched him in the side. "I know what you mean."

"Maybe..." Lucon flopped onto his desk. "But I don't want to be stuck in this cold land for the rest of my life. I want to have my name remembered." Lucon pulled himself back up. "You will, since you've given us that metal and the horti...What was it called again?"

"Horticulture." Ikel almost smiled. "The cultivation of plants. With my advice you should be able to increase food production by seven percent and reduce manpower requirements by four."

"Is that a lot?" Svafar asked.

Lucon nodded. "For an Empire it is massive. See? They'll remember you for a long time...But not me..."

Ikel held a clawed finger to her lips. "I have a meeting with High Command later today. I could talk to them about it."

"You would?"

"Sure." Ikel smiled. "You are one of the two Humans that rescued me. I haven't asked for anything really, beyond my laboratory and a few other little things. It shouldn't be too hard."

"You will?"

"Sure." Ikel shrugged and smiled. "Most Humans look at me like I'm sort of freak or something to be used. You look at me like I'm a curiosity. It might not sound much different but it is to me."

"That would be incredible." Lucon spun in his chair, completely missing Svafar patting Ikel's rear extremely hard. "That would be the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"That's actually kind of sad." Ikel smiled bitterly. "But, I actually need a favour from you."

"Me?" Lucon raised a brow. "I have surprisingly little authority in Eidfell."

"I want to see the city." Ikel began. "I've been locked inside this place for so long...Light from fires or those little cube things just isn't the same."

"I can say that I've authorized it." Lucon began rummaging through his desk. "But whether or not the guards will listen is another matter entirely."

"If anyone tries to stop me then I'll tell them I'll never make another thing for High Command." Ikel dramatically folded her arms. "That should be enough to get into the city."

"You do know that you'll be mobbed?" Lucon began to write a roughly worded writ. "Not because they have you, but because you're different."

"That's fine." Ikel nudged Svafar's side with her elbow. "With someone like him by my side it shouldn't be a problem."

"You'd be surprised." Lucon suppressed a smile. "I remember when one of the dark-skinned humans arrived here. They thought he had fallen into tar. Can you imagine how he must have felt when a few dozen people were trying to help him?"

"Sounds like you don't want me to go." Ikel teased. "Do you think that I'm going to be taken away by some brute?"

Lucon looked up as he finished the writ. Ikel smiled inanely while Svafar gently shook his head.

Lucon clicked his tongue and continued writing. "I don't know how you can put up with her all day and night. I would have gone mad by now."

Ikel pouted at Lucon. "I'm not that bad to live with."

"Absolutely not." Svafar body stiffened.

Lucon guessed why he had such a reaction but chose to ignore it. So long as he received his promotion and Ikel continued to produce results he did not care. He briefly wondered what their children would look like, dismissing the resulting image of Ikel but with a human torso as absurd.

"Enjoy the sights." Lucon passed Ikel the writ. "I hear there's some very strong alcohol, if you know where to look."

"I certainly will." Ikel licked her lips. "Do you want to come with us? You have been stuck in this place for a while now."

"I'll be fine." Lucon smiled. He noticed Svafar look a little happier. "Have some fun and be sure to be back before nightfall. The streets are not safe for someone like you after dark."

"You worry too much." Ikel gently pushed Svafar towards the door. "You should take a break yourself. You want to look presentable to High Command when they give you that promotion."

They gave a final wave before shutting the door. Lucon heard a few muffled words followed by their boot steps travelling away.

"Whatever," Lucon mumbled aloud. "So long as she gets me my promotion it really doesn't matter if they're screwing each other."

Lucon shrugged once more and continued with his work.

---[]---

"I can't believe that worked," Lucon said. He breathed harshly and held a hand to his chest. "You actually got me my promotion."

The guards grunted and ushered Lucon forward, away from the closing door protecting High Command. Ikel and Svafar stood outside, both beaming with happiness as Lucon walked towards them.

"I told you I would." Ikel gave him a thumbs up, or claw up in her case. "Did you ever doubt me?"

"No...Yes. Part of me did. But they sounded a little strange." Lucon locked back at the closing door. "It sounded like they wanted to get rid of me. They mentioned you and...I don't know. It sounded like they didn't have much confidence in me."

"Then show them they are wrong," Ikel said loudly. Svafar slowly nodded. "Show them they were wrong to demote you in the first place. You, Lucon, had better be grateful. I had to promise them a whole bunch of stuff…” Ikel winked. “Just kidding. I asked and they said yes. Maybe that’s why they looked funny. Since they think I was the one giving them the orders.”

Lucon took one last look before the door closed with a loud bang. “That would be interesting…But they also said that I’m not longer needed to be here.” Lucon clicked his tongue. “Since I’m now a Commander of the Legions-”

Svafar whistled. “Now I’m really impressed.”

“I know.” Ikel bumped his side with her elbow. “I thought it was just going to be one or two…Do you think they’re overdoing it to keep me happy? It’s one of the few things I’ve asked for.”

“Since…” Lucon coughed. “Since I got that promotion they’ve ordered me to lead the attack of The Shadow Isles.”

“I thought we should have been done there by now,” Svafar said softly.

“So did I. But the Dark Elves on the central island are attacking. Still. So we’re having to deploy nearly every single soldier there to quell them.”

“Isn’t that.” Ikel leant close. “I don’t know much about the army but isn’t that dangerous? They aren’t even on the same continent as your Empire. What happens if someone attacks you now? Surely it’s a great opportunity.”

Svafar laughed. “No one would be stupid enough to do that. And even if they did we’ve still got tens of thousands of people to defend these lands until they get back.”

“But when we went to the markets, which were great by the way, everyone was talking about it.” Ikel made a nondescript exasperated sound. “It’s no secret. Surely your enemies have informants.”

Svafar gently patted her head. “They might. But what can they do with it? The United Empire can easily crush any rebellion. And how are they going to compete when our soldiers are equipped with the fancy metal of yours.”

“It just seems kind of dangerous.” Ikel pouted lightly. “But I’m sure those boys back there have their reasons.”

Lucon shrugged. “But I guess this is goodbye. I-”

“For now.” Ikel looked to Svafar. “You aren’t going off to the other side of the world, at least according to the maps I’ve seen. And we’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Right…” Lucon turned to Svafar. “Thank you.” Lucon offered his hand. “I think I was wrong about you and your men. They’ve…They’ve been alright.”

Svafar laughed heartily. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

Before Lucon could react Svafar brought him into a large hug. Ikel’s eyebrows shot up as she watched Lucon’s fingers twitch and Svafar give him a final squeeze.

“Oh my…” Ikel whispered.

“You’ll be fine.” Svafar finally released Lucon. “Just remember to have someone in between you and those Dark Elves. I hear they’re really good with their bows. Better than anyone here, and they love to use poisons too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Actually…” Ikel tapped Svafar’s shoulder. “I think you should go with Lucon. At least to see him off. I have a few things that need doing. A few experiments that can’t wait any longer. If I do wait…” Ikel sighed. “Then I’m going to have to waste a considerable amount of time and money.”

She nodded to the closed door. “And you know what they are like with money.”

“Good luck, Ikel,” Lucon said.

Ikel rolled her eyes and gave him a quick hug. Her fur felt strange on her neck, he had felt it before but something was off. It was trembling. Lucon knew she had no feelings for him, that was reserved for the man to his side, but it still felt off. He reasoned she was just nervous at having to work so hard after getting him the promotion.

“Take care-”

“I’m coming with you!” Svafar wrapped his arm around Lucon’s neck. “Don’t you get all soppy with me before you leave.”

“When I get back are there going to be a bunch of furry little kids running around?” Lucon asked softly.

Svafar shook his head. “No. Ikel said that’s impossible. And…Thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“For not saying anything about…You know.”

Lucon scoffed. “I thought you were, but it’s none of my business.”

“So!” Svafar slapped his back hard. “I’ll give your new men a sendoff message. Let them know who their new boss is and what they’re going to be expected to do.”

“Is that a boost or a downer for them?” Lucon asked dryly.

Svafar laughed but did not confirm nor deny his concerns. Lucon merely shrugged and hoped that everything would turn out for the best. It had so far, why not now?

---[]---

Svafar slowly pushed open the door to Ikel’s laboratory. He knew that Ikel had asked not to be disturbed but it was him after all. Surely she would be happy to see him, no matter the time or place. Ikel said little when she accidentally walked in on him taking a bath, even less when she straddled his waist.

Svafar's whimsical memories were brought to a halt when he saw what lay in her workshop. Lucon had not exaggerated when he said it was a mess. Equipment, expensive equipment, lay scattered across the floor. Components had been ripped clean out of many, leaving them empty husks. Papers littered the desks, all showing a circular construct. Svafar could not make any sense of it. He doubted even Lucon could.

"Ikel? Where are you?" Ikel waited for a reply but nothing came. The workshop was very large, she could have easily been at the far end and not hear a word.

Slowly Svafar worked his way through the discarded piles until he finally heard a noise. It wasn't much, a muttered swear, but it was Ikel's voice. Svafar traced the sound to a large side door, closed but not locked.

"Are you in there?" Svafar called out as he neared the barred door.

He could hear voices from the other side, muffled by the door. They sounded like Ikel. Svafar prepared himself for a verbal lashing and pushed the door open.

The other side was nowhere near as cluttered, if anything it was cleaner than how her laboratory normally looked. The components she had ripped lay in neat piles alongside larger items in the process of disassembly. Svafar still had no idea what Ikel could possibly be trying to make with this.

"Hello?" Svafar called out as he fully stepped through. His voice echoed through the room but still no response.

A large sheet of cloth hanged from one corner of the room to the other. Behind that something emitted a bright blue light. Someone moved in front of the light. It was difficult to see a perfect form but only one person had a tail that followed her every step.

"Is that you, Ikel?" Svafar called out.

The silhouette stopped and snapped its head towards him. A few breaths passed before it spoke.

"Oh. Hello Svafar." The voice belonged to Ikel. "I thought you were training today?"

"I was." Svafar began walking towards the curtain. "But I saw Lucon off, wished him luck and decided to come visit you."

Again Ikel hesitated. "So Lucon's gone then? That's a relief. Not that he's gone, per say, just that he's finally got the promotion he's wanted all this time. I'm actually quite happy for him."

"So am I." Svafar smiled, not that Ikel could see it through the cloth. "That's why I wanted to see you. Now that we have some alone time."

Ikel looked back to the source of bright light. "Can it wait just a bit longer? I'm almost done here, then we'll have lots of time to ourselves."

"What are you building anyway?"

Svafar reached the curtain and began to push it aside. Ikel's hand reached out to stop him but she hesitated. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she held a hand on her hip.

"I could actually use a hand, I suppose." Ikel raised her hand, wiggling her index finger back and forth. "But if you do come in here you can't leave until we're finished."

Svafar already had the curtain half pulled away before she had even finished. Ikel wore her normal clothes, albeit drenched with sweat, almost panting with exhaustion. Her fingers shook as did her clawed feet. It was not often Svafar saw her so exhausted. What lay behind her took his breath away. A metal circle, tall enough to just touch the ceiling and just as wide, lay nestled between four massive glowing stones, each encased in a metal that Svafar had never seen before. From the centre of the circle, the bright blue light emanated, even though there was no obvious source.

"What is this?" Svafar moved closer to the centre of the light.

"Careful." Ikel grabbed his arms. Her fingers trembled, even as she coughed to steady herself. "I...Kind of wanted to show this off when it's done but..." Ikel sighed. "I know that you won't run away. Right?"

"Should I be worried?" Svafar crouched and inspected the glowing stones more closely. They appeared formless but the metal casing was anything but. Before he could study it further Ikel grabbed his collar and pulled him up.

"There's no need to yank." Svafar laughed.

Ikel rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm. "Don't touch anything you don't understand."

Svafar held her by the hips and pulled her close. "So make me understand. You've always done a terrific job of teaching me."

Normally Ikel's tail would be swaying through the air, not resting limply against her legs. Something was wrong.

"This is just really stressful." Ikel smiled. "Once it's done we can have as much fun as we want."

"So what actually is it? You still haven't told me."

"Energy!" Ikel said triumphantly. Svafar did not understand. He wished that Lucon was with him, just so he could help to fill in the gaps.

"How..." Svafar rubbed his brow. “How does that help?"

"Think of all the coal and wood that's needed to heat this city. A lot, right? I learnt that forests are grown just for the sole purpose of providing wood." Ikel held a clawed hand on her hip. "And I don't like that. This way we can heat whole cities without needing to clear forests, meaning those people can work somewhere else, freeing up massive amounts of manpower."

Ikel smiled and stepped forward. A hand gently rubbed along his crotch. "And I know all too well what sort of manpower your people possess."

Svafar kissed her. "So how do we finish this so we can go somewhere else?"

"You-" Ikel coughed loudly, her tail fluttered through the air. "It's almost finished. I just need to connect these wires and then it'll be finished."

"Wires?" Svafar eyes followed Ikel's shapely behind.

"I thought I told you." Ikel crouched beside a bundle of multicoloured pieces resin. When Svafar crouched next to her he saw the resin surrounded thin pieces of copper. "Actually, it might have been Lucon." Ikel shrugged. "Doesn't matter. These allow...If you could just put these into the same coloured holes that would be such a help."

Svafar felt strange playing a children's matching game but did it all the same. Ikel appreciated his help and that's what mattered most.

When the last wire was in place Ikel stuck her head onto his shoulder and inspected his work.

"Looks good." Ikel nibbled his ear. "The others are done so we can begin." She skipped happily to a raised lectern hidden to the side. Many resin-covered pieces of copper led into it, travelling underneath to a series of large raised cylinders resting inside a metal ring. Svafar peered underneath, the large cylinder would push down and connect two small exposed sections of copper wire, a locking mechanism ensured they remained together.

"Have you told anyone about that?" Svafar pointed to the underside of the lectern. "That alone is worth a lot..."

Ikel was muttering something to herself. Her eyes twitched back and forth. Svafar had only seen this when she was incredibly nervous.

"It will be fine." Svafar held Ikel's shoulder. "You're a genius at this stuff."

Ikel lightly sighed and squeezed his hand. "You know exactly what to say to me." She pointed to the largest cylinder. "Do you want to have the honours?"

Svafar took Ikel's hand into his own and pressed the cylinder down together. It clicked near the bottom and did not rise again. The devices began to hum and glow with energy, the bright light at the centre of the circle dimmed and began to grow into a thin disk.

"Thank..." Ikel held her free hand over her mouth. "It works! It actually works!"

"Did you actually doubt yourself?" Svafar squeezed her side.

Ikel swatted his hand away. "Of course I did. We failed the last..."

Ikel's entire body went rigid, her ears were flat against her head and her tail tucked itself between her legs.

"What we?" Svafar asked softly. The glowing disk continued to grow.

"I...um..." Ikel's eyes twitched left and right, her fingers flexed uncontrollably. She tried to speak again but only unintelligible noises came out.

Despite Ikel's intelligence, she did have trouble thinking of an excuse when surprised, but this was far worse than anything so far.

"What we?" Svafar asked louder.

Ikel's mouth refused to formulate actual words.

"Fine." Svafar shook his head. "I don't know what you're doing here but you aren't going to-"

"I can explain!" Ikel placed herself between Svafar and the metal cylinders. "I'm being serious, I can-"

"Get out of my way," Svafar growled. Ikel held her ground and tried to stare him down.

The shimmering disk continued to expand. It had already reached the halfway point and showed no sign of slowing down.

"Fine then." Svafar picked Ikel up and threw her to one side.

She sprawled in midair but she landed on all fours, without a scratch or sprain. She glared at Svafar with a level of hatred he did not think possible. Her eyes flicked to a corner of the room, to a loaded crossbow and small daggers. She glanced back once more and darted towards her weapons with a speed he did not know she was capable of. Svafar forced himself to tear his eyes away from her and tried to bring the cylinder back up. His fingers gripped but the locking mechanism refused to budge.

"If in doubt." Svafar reached over and pulled the resin-coated wires with all his might.

They ripped free, sending sparks and shots of fire everywhere. His moment of victory was cut short by a flash of pain in his back. His muscles twitched as the foreign object refused to vacate, his back grew slick with blood. He turned back. Ikel had already finished loading the next bolt and was training it on his head. The fact that he had taught her how to use said weapon was lost upon him at that moment. He dropped low and ran around the metal circle. A bolt flew past his head and into the stone wall.

"You shouldn't have said anything!" Ikel shouted as she loaded the next bolt. "I would have kept you as my pet. You're cock's pretty fucking huge and you know how to use it. How does that sound? Just fucking for the rest of your life?"

Another bolt whistled past Svafar's head. Ikel swore and moved around the room as she reloaded her crossbow. The shimmering disk continued to grow. Whatever function those wires had they were no longer necessary.

"How does that sound?" Ikel laughed. "You strutting around naked for the rest of your life. Able to hump me whenever it takes my fancy."

Ikel swore as Svafar continued to use the metal circle as a shield. The wound on his back was not life-threatening, at least for now, but the pain was considerably more than normal. He glanced at the bolt resting on the ground. The head was not a simple piece of metal. It had fractured into a thousand tiny pieces, long hairs that remained attached to the base.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Svafar shouted. He peered around the metal circle. His heart dropped as Ikel's crossbow was aimed straight at his face. Much to his surprise she did not fire, even though it was a certain kill.

"Well?!" Svafar moved out of cover while keeping the metal circle between them. Much to his surprise, Ikel did not shoot. She wanted to, with all her heart but couldn't. "What are you waiting for?"

"I wish you hadn't come here today." Ikel continued to walk around the room to get a clear shot, Ikel made sure he always had something in the way. "At least Lucon wouldn't have put up such a fight."

"Does he know about this?"

Svafar knew he did not but wanted to get something out of her. An explanation of what she was doing and, more importantly, why.

"Of course not. The less people that could come down here the better." Ikel clicked her tongue as they reached opposite sides of the circle a day began to peer out. "This is ridiculous."

"How about you drop that crossbow so I can beat you to death?" Svafar snarled.

"Funniest thing you've ever said." Ikel leant around and tried to loose another bolt. She clicked her tongue when he had before she could get a good line on him. "Funny asshole."

"Or how about I just start smashing these things." Svafar stomped as hard as he could on the glowing rocks. While the stones did not budge the metal surrounding them did. More sparks flew off and the growing disk shimmered and began to wobble.

"Don't do that!" Ikel screamed. "You'll kill everyone!"

"Eidfell will survive anything that your little toy can throw at it." Svafar stomped again. This time there were fewer sparks but the disk began to wiggle quite violently. "And there are more cities in the United Empire than this place."

"Don't you understand what it's connected to?" Ikel began to pant with fear. "What will happen if it is destroyed like this?"

"Enlighten me!" Svafar stomped on the other intact glowing stone. The sparks were far more violent than before. The shimmering disk did not change but Svafar was certain it would stop if he broke all four.

"J-Just stop! Please." Svafar lowered the crossbow. "See?"

"Throw it to the door."

The moments passed as Ikel stood still.

"Yeah right.” Svafar stomped on the second stone again. "Why shouldn't I just keep doing this?"

"Fucking stop!" Ikel shrieked. "You'll kill everyone."

Svafar held his boot over the stone and waited.

Ikel snarled. "I guess you're too stupid to work it out on your own. Most of your blood...This is a portal. Do you know what that means?"

"Keep talking."

"A portal connects two places together. Like a door between far away rooms. And on the other side is my world. Another portal and archway, just like this.”

“You’re not convincing me from just smashing this thing.”

Svafar grit his teeth. Though he was talking and acting tough the wound was sapping his strength. There was only so much blood he could lose before he began to grow weak and pass out. And he was all but certain that Ikel knew that as well.

Ikel snapped her head around and began advancing on Svafar.

“Because.” Ikel wiped the sweat from her face, somewhat difficult as her entire face and body was covered in fur. “Because if the portal is destroyed now it’ll loop through itself, throwing out tremendous amounts of energy, enough to destroy a continent. And that’s if it’s good. I don’t know what would happen. No one’s been stupid enough to try and break one while it’s forming.”

“So that’s how you got here?” Svafar snapped the shaft from the bolt, keeping the filament head in his body to block the wound. “One of these things?”

“Actually no.” Ikel’s voice returned to normal, what he was expecting before Ikel revealed herself to be more than duplicitous. “Normally you can only go from one portal to another. Do you think it’s possible to have a doorway that only has one side? No. But we managed to find a way.”

“That burning light,” Svafar muttered.

“Yes.” Ikel reached the edge. Svafar had already reached the other side of the metal circle, the portal as Ikel called it. “There were supposed to be fifty of us, each of us with the knowledge to build a stable portal on the other side. I don’t know where they went-”

Svafar raised his leg to stomp on the glowing stone. Ikel realized she had been allowed to distract herself by speaking and shrieked in anger. She ran at Svafar in a rage, like an animal on all fours, and lunged at Ikel with a dagger in both hands. Svafar remained still until the last moment, taking one of her blades into his own hand and ramming the broken shaft into her neck. It punctured her throat but blood did not spurt forth, like so many times when Svafar had stabbed an enemy. If anything it made her even angrier. Ikel snapped at him with her blood-stained teeth and stabbed his back and chest with the remaining dagger. Svafar took her other hand and head-butted her. His forehead crashed into her nose, breaking it flat and sending her stumbling backwards. She staggered back but refused to fall down. Her eyes were tiny slits, such was her fury.

“Just gotta smash this one-”

Ikel tried to scream and charge but her wounds had taken their toll. Svafar smashed his fist onto the fragile metal casing, blinding him in a shower of sparks. A deep clang echoed throughout the room as the shimmering disk, now barely a foot away from the metal circle, began to writhe and the edges tear. It solidified for a moment. Svafar saw things he did not understand; thousands of people like Ikel, wearing armour and wielding strange long staff-like weapons and long thin shields, stood in formation below a small platform, which Svafar presumed held the other portal. They began to look worried, their formations started to shift and break despite their commander's orders. The next moment the portal became nothing more a shimmering light again.

“A fucking army.” Svafar coughed up some blood. “Nothing more than an invasion from within.”

“I…” Svafar was utterly shocked that Ikel could still stand, let alone talk. “The Madiamar Empire will rule…Everything!”

Ikel snarled and tried to attack once more. She was nowhere near as ferocious as before, but the blades were still dangerous. He waited until she was almost on him and kicked with all his might. Blood and spit escaped her mouth as she stumbled backwards. Her bloodied hand fell back and touched the crumpled shimmering field. Ikel looked at him, not in anger or disgust but unimaginable horror. The blue light began to absorb her, transforming and swallowing her arm. Svafar tried to rise to his feet but stumbled forward, resting his hand against the metal circle. Tears flowed from Ikel’s bloodshot eyes as she reached for his arm. The shimmering field had begun to collapse in on itself and her arm, like a wet piece of cloth. Her clawed fingers touched his as the blue light consumed the last of her body, began to crush down and collapse her body just as it jumped from her hand onto his skin. Everything began to fade from Svafar’s mind as he and Ikel were drawn into the bright blue light as it wrapped itself around them.

---[]---

Lucon stepped back as a soldier unfurled the large map as snow continued to fall around them. Not that Lucon was surprised, given they were still in the heartland. Lucon briefly looked up as a snowflake crossed his vision. The soldiers looked confused as to why they had stopped while the capital was still in sight. They did not know they were going to be joining up with three smaller forces. Lucon decided to give them a few moments of rest before the march continued.

The soldier loudly cleared his throat as he placed stones in the corners of the map.

"The Shadow Isles." Lucon began. He looked to his subordinate, in rank but certainly not in age and experience. "What can you tell me about it?"

His subordinate pointed a stubby finger to the northern ended of the central island. "The Dark Elves here are continuing to resist. They are using devastating hit and run tactics. And with their Jaguar mounts...We are unable to catch them."

"I see..." Lucon held his chin. "What about the new metal? Is it helping our men to survive better, at the very least?"

His subordinate's face softened. "It is. Formerly lethal wounds are now reduced to cuts and scratches. The Dark Elves are now resorting to using poison tipped arrows and bringing their Jaguars into the battle itself."

"It's never easy with them." Lucon sighed. "Do you have any ideas how to fix this?"

"I do not, sir."

"We have some time before we reach The Shadow Isles anyway." Lucon smiled. "I will do my best to think of a solution. If any of the men come up with a good, even a barely decent idea let me know. I don't want anyone to did that doesn't have to."

Lucon made sure it sounded like he truly cared for his men, which he did. In a sense. But living soldiers provided a barrier between him and all the nasties out there. His subordinate did not seem to notice or care.

"I will...Strange clouds we're having."

Lucon was already looking at the map. "What was that?"

"The clouds. They look...wrong."

Something prickled at the back of Lucon's neck, at his mind. He'd heard those words before.

He tore himself away from the map and looked up. His subordinate's jaw hung open, his eyes wide in fear and confusion. So too were the other nearby soldiers and officers. Some of the soldiers throughout the rest of the camp had not noticed but wondered what everyone else was looking at. Their faces instantly matched their companions.

Above Eidfell Trellbog the sky had turned green. The many high clouds had turned black and were rapidly flattening themselves into disks. Lightning rumbled in the distance, thousands upon thousands of lightning bolts reached up and struck something solid above the city.

"It's happening again!" Lucon shrieked. He cared not how the others would judge him, if they even heard him. "How...That bitch cat! She must have done this."

"What are y-"

Lucon body turned to ice when the sky began to shatter. Great cracks began to form in the sky, like sheets of glass, and began to fall. Behind the falling sheets he could once again see the insanity of the writhing colours.

"Everybody down!" Lucon shouted. "Don't look at it! Eyes in the snow!"

Lucon dived under the table. Wet snow filled his face and nose but he was too terrified to care. He heard the order repeated over and over, followed by the sound of soldiers dropping. Lucon counted his breaths, waiting for the flash of light.

The breaths continued in silence. A solider moved, crunching the snow.

"What-"

He screamed the next moment as everything became white. Not even Lucon escaped it, with his eyes scrunched tight and face-first into the ground. Many soldiers screamed, calling for their mothers and any God they could remember. A few breaths later the light instantly vanished.

"What was that?!" Someone screamed.

Lucon pulled himself up, careful not to look at Eidfell. His vision had a tinge of green but nothing like the last time. The other soldiers and officers slowly picked themselves up, deeply shaken and afraid but mostly in one piece. Shouts began to ring out. Several had not listened to Lucon and had been blinded. Whether or not it was permanent he did not know. At least this time they had healers.

"What did you mean by cat bitch?" A soldier asked. Lucon was not in a state to worry about protocol.

"Ikel. She arrived through one of those things. I knew she was lying."

Lucon rubbed his eyes and looked towards the capital. The uppermost peak had completely melted, molten stone flowed down and through some surviving snow, throwing up great plumes of steam. The rest of the city looked fine but Lucon knew the would not be the case.

"Everyone!" Lucon shouted. "We're advancing on Eidfell Trellbog. They'll need our assistance. At the double!"

His orders were repeated and disseminated, the camp burst into life, as Lucon watched the steaming capital. He hoped nothing was wrong but his heart told him otherwise.

---[]---

Lucon's fears grew ever greater as they neared the city. Signs of life had all but disappeared. While most activity was obscured by the unique roofing of Eidfell Trellbog the smoke had dwindled to almost nothing. Like there was no one maintaining the fires or the forges. The small hamlets and homes outside the city had also become silent and still.

"Investigate the nearest house," Lucon ordered. "I remember seeing smoke coming from that house when we left. See what they have to say."

A small group of soldiers broke away from the main group. Lucon watched them scamper across the snow like a herd of white rabbits, while they stood still on the road, a glaring blot in an otherwise peaceful and serene land.

No one spoke a word as the soldiers approached the house. All of the windows were boarded up and closed, not unusual for the dead of winter, but no one responded when they knocked on the door. One looked back at Lucon. He waved them forward with his hand.

Two soldiers rammed the door with their bodies. On the third try, the door gave way and the two tumbled in. Lucon heard someone mutter something about discipline but that was cut short by a scream. Both soldiers ran from the house, one screaming like a terrified girl, the other simply ran with all his might. The other soldiers tried to catch him but he was slipperier than an eel. He ran past them and into the snow-covered fields. Only when a mounted soldier caught up to him did he stop.

"Bring him back," Lucon ordered. "Bring them both back. I want to know what they found."

As the two soldiers were trundled back the remaining soldiers peered into the room. Most recoiled in disgust, several threw up, but none were willing to go inside.

The soldier that had ran arrived first. Lucon's subordinate was not happy.

"Explain yourself." He spoke calmly but Lucon could feel the anger in his voice. "Why did you run?"

The soldier shook his head. "I'm not going back in there. I don't care what you say, I'm not doing it."

"So what did you see?" Lucon asked. "What made you run?"

The soldier refused to answer. His lips trembled and his brow began to run slick with sweat. Lucon shared a glance with his fellow officers. They were growing increasingly concerned at a formerly loyal soldier’s complete reversal.

"It was everywhere!" The second soldier screamed. He was larger than the first, scars and wicked tattoos adorned his face. Not someone that should have run. "Everywhere!" The man began to weep uncontrollably.

Lucon dismounted his stocky horse and trudged through the snow to the crying man. He had been given considerable space, out of pity or sympathy Lucon had no inclination or interest.

"What did you see?" Lucon asked softly.

The soldier wiped away the tears and snot building on his face. "I...I don't know what I saw."

An officer tried to speak but Lucon silenced him with a raised hand.

"Describe it to us." Lucon looked beyond. The other soldiers were returning, none had the same enthusiasm as before.

"Flesh." The man swallowed. "Covering the room. I saw hands, eyes, beaks and dog jaws...I don't know what it was but it covered everything." He looked back to the house. "The floor, the roof, even the fireplace...I don't..."

Lucon held his shoulder. "Get something to drink. As strong as you need."

The soldier whispered a silent thanks and ran to the baggage train at the rear.

"I need to take a look," Lucon announced. "Some men are to come with me, the rest will continue advancing down the road until they reach the crossroads."

The crossroads Lucon spoke of was less than a mile away. Those that were not chosen looked relieved they were not having anything to do with whatever horror lurked within the house.

"I've...Let's go."

No one spoke a word as they advanced on the house. They met the soldiers coming the other way. They too spoke of flesh covering the interior of the house but little else. Lucon sent them back to their main force to gain some strength, even if that was through liquor.

Nothing was amiss as they approached the house. Nothing at all. Somehow it made Lucon feel all the more unsettled by what he would soon be facing. An officer ordered a torch to be lit and an unlucky soldier to illuminate the house. He grumbled as he struck a piece of flint on stone.

A noise came from within. Everyone froze still, Lucon could even hear the sound of falling snow but nothing else.

"Did-"

The noise came again. It was little more than a muffled, strangled cry, yet it turned Lucon's stomach.

"Get that torch going," Lucon said.

The soldier hurriedly struck a light and peered around the door. He gasped and froze solid. An officer, the most junior amongst them, volunteered to look. He held himself better but was still shocked by what he saw.

"Lucon. Sir...You need to see this." His voice was little more than a whisper but to Lucon it sounded like he was almost pleading.

"Alright." Lucon took a deep breath. "Let's see what's got everyone in such a panic."

Lucon knew he was not a brave man but after receiving his promotion he had become a little braver, at least on the surface. He attributed it to the uniform and looks of respect from his officers and adoration from the civilians. All such thoughts evaporated when he finally looked inside.

All Lucon saw was flesh. Piles of skin and flesh, in every part and on every convincible surface of the room. Four great lumps lay in the centre, two slightly larger than the others, all surrounding a table half-submerged in the knotted flesh. It took Lucon a moment to realize they were people, or at least they were once people. The flesh quivered as the torch light was shone upon them. One of the smaller mounds fell backwards and Lucon nearly vomited.

There was no face, only a collage of mouths, eyes and even hands and a foot. They all slowly moved seemingly at random. An eye locked on Lucon, Lucon's body froze, but the flesh did not even notice. It continued swaying back and forth while the far two began to shake back and forth. Something covered the two that made it hard to see, a thick black fur coat covered the upper half of the pile. Lucon was not surprised when mouths began to emerge; dog and wolf snouts, many merged with one another at horrific angles, snapped and snarled at the air. The other two began to take notice and turned. The second fur-covered pile produced arms, most were human but three were different. Two looked identical to Ikel's, the other covered in thick scales. Somewhat mercifully the fourth pile was nothing more than a smooth pillar of flesh. Somehow it made Lucon the most ill.

"None of the Gods have anything to do with this." Someone whispered.

The voice caused the small smooth pillar to shudder. Lucon shrieked as a skull, belonging to a child, pushed against the surface of the pillar, hard enough to see its teeth. A foot below that the jaw pressed against the skin as well. Slowly the bones receded and the flesh began to calm.

"How?" Lucon asked. "How..."

This time the flesh did not respond. Something on the ceiling moved. Only a thin layer of flesh covered the roof, bundling itself around the beams for support. Lucon watched as veins, easily as large as his finger, pulsed a sickly blue blood towards the centre of the roof, right above the centre of the table. The four pillars looked up and Lucon began to back away. A turtle shell, the size of the table, hung from the centre of the roof, yet it was nothing like the turtles he knew from his homeland. The shell was built solely from hard muscle and suspended by thick bones with veiny flesh wrapped around it. At the rear, a dog's leg grew out of the rim of the shell and kicked sideways erratically. It stopped as quickly as it had begun and hanged limp, pulling the shell down at a steep angle. From the centre a long hand emerged, its fingers were little more than bones, and began to reach down to the pillars.

"Burn it!" Lucon yelled. Finally, his feet recognized the order from his mind and obeyed. "Burn everything!"

No one needed any encouragement. The torch wielding soldier ran around the house, lighting everything that might burn, while everyone backed away.

The long hand reached and pushed through the smooth flesh. Lucon swore that he heard a moan of ecstasy. The bony hand swirled and pushed deeper into the flesh, now the noises were far clearer, until it found the skull.

"Burn it all!" Lucon shrieked.

The soldier had started many fires but it wasn't enough. He threw pieces of lit firewood onto the roof but it had little effect. The other soldiers and officers ran to help hmm, perhaps to get away from whatever they were witnessing, leaving only Lucon and his subordinate.

The thing began to remove the skull. The smooth pillar shuddered and began to collapse, a thick white liquid flowed from the opening pooled in the folds.

A lick of flame burst through a window. An axe cleaved it open, sinking into the thin flesh but it did not annoy any of the creatures. An officer threw in an old oil lamp, right onto the table. The white liquid erupted into flames and spread throughout the entire house.

Lucon's subordinate grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

Within moments the flames had engulfed the house. The blue blood burst from the veins and ignited on contact, spreading the fire even faster. The three remaining pillars began to writhe and shuffle but could not escape the flames. Fur burned, skin charred and fat melted under the extreme heat.

The soldiers and officers rejoined Lucon. Many were still in a state of shock but at least they could still move.

The shell kicked and bucked, the dog leg spasmed wildly as the suspending muscles pulled erratically. Something began to scream.

Fire engulfed the shell, the muscles contracted from the heat and something tried to climb out. Lucon only saw a mangled face, human yet utterly horrific, stare at him before the flames began to take it. As it began to melt the skull slipped out and the creature truly began to scream. Lucon stood perfectly still, utterly transfixed in horror, as the fire consumed the roof. Someone grabbed him and pulled him back. Only when they were halfway back to their forces did Lucon order them to stop.

“Thank you.” Lucon stammered out. “What…What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

Lucon looked towards Eidfell. None of the houses had any smoke but there was every chance there was more of those things.

“Check every building,” Lucon ordered. “Check every building as we approach. Burn everything that contains those…I don’t know what monstrosities those were.” Lucon grabbed the collar of the closest man. “I want to see everything infested with those things burning. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir!” The man needed no encouragement.

Lucon relinquished his hold and took a deep breath. “Let’s keep moving.” He looked back to the burning house. “There…Let’s keep moving.”

---[]---

No one watched them approach, no small group of horse-mounted riders thankful for the assistance. The city exterior was just as devoid of human life as the houses behind them. Lucon's nose recoiled at the pervasive smell of burning flesh, to say nothing of the inhuman screams that filled his head.

"You don't think they've been turned into those things?" A nearby officer asked loudly.

"I hope not," Lucon muttered.

Tens of thousands of people called Eidfell home. If even a fraction had transformed...

Lucon's thoughts were cut by a shout. For a brief moment he thought it came from a city guard on the wall. Instead, some of the soldiers at the front pointed to the base of the outer wall. Snow had continued to accumulate, unsurprising given everyone's disappearance, but the bloodstains on the wall were fresh. Snowflakes stuck to the blood and drew it into their crystalline structure, further illuminating the bloody smears. Most lay near the bottom of the wall and several beneath the fresh layer of snow. No marks adorned the top and only a few at the midway point, yet all were irregularly spaced.

No one spoke, Lucon broke the silence.

"What does anyone make of this?" Lucon asked.

"S..." The nearby soldier hesitated to speak until he received a nod from Lucon. "It looks like someone was thrown from the walls. The walls bulge out at the bottom...So that's why there's so many blood marks there..."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Lucon looked along the wall. Still nothing moved. "Go...Send some soldiers to check the areas where the blood leads into the snow. See if there's something there. Dig to the ground if you have to."

The unlucky soldiers grumbled and complained but still did their duty. They moved fast and low, their axes held tight in their hands, until they stopped just before the piles of snow. Lucon thought that something might have tried to attack them, whatever fleshy horror they had discovered in the house or the dozens of burning homesteads and tiny hamlets behind them. Lucon was certain their scientists and researchers would have loved to get their hands on those things, but Lucon only wanted to see them burnt.

The soldiers began to dig at the snow with their axe heads. One stopped, backed away and waved to them. Lucon had no idea what he was trying to say and had someone sent forward. The officer saw whatever lay in the snow, had it carried out and wrapped in their cloaks. They ran back to their force with the bundle suspended between them.

"Not more of those things?" Lucon asked. His hand instinctively reached for his weapon even though he had no idea if it was of any use.

"No, sir." The soldiers laid down the bundle before him. "But I think we have that cat woman."

"What?"

The cloaks came free, revealing a creature similar to Ikel. Yet there were stark differences; firstly the creature was clearly male, its brown fur coating covered in blotches of grey and black and its ears were longer. Blood ran down its face, matting its fur in blood, out of many deep wounds, deep enough to see bone. Lucon did not need any training to know how this creature died.

"That's not her."

"It's not?"

Lucon pointed to the creature's groin.

"I thought..."

Lucon shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Where's our surgeon? I want to know how this creature died. And keep digging near the walls. If you find any more I want them brought back here."

"Everyone else is to assume defensive positions." Lucon's subordinate continued. "Keep your eyes focused on the walls for any sign of activity. A few need to keep an eye behind, just in case...Something sneaks up on us."

"And if that light happens again?" An officer asked.

"Then we'll be dead or one of those things." Lucon shrugged. "Get to work, men. We need answers."

---[]---

Their army’s surgeons, a small cadre of men from a southern administrative zone, poked and prodded at the forty corpses they had so far recovered. The more they brought out from the snow the more questions were raised. A few of the bodies matched Ikel general description but many were completely different. Some looked more like dogs or wolves than cats, some like rats and one had a beak and feathers like a bird. Another looked like a turtle, giving Lucon no shortage of panic. Thankfully its shell was solid and not made from knotted flesh.

As Lucon continued to watch the bodies and the surgeons work from afar the lead surgeon slowly walked towards them. He stopped a few paces away, readied his pipe with a finely ground orange leaf and lit them with a small, personal flint lighter. Gold and brass adorned the metalwork, not a cheap implement.

“Well…” The surgeon drew deep on the pipe. “Where do you want me to start?”

“How they died.”

The surgeon glumly nodded and drew again on his pipe. “These…Creatures? They all died in the same manner.” He pointed his pipe at the nearest dead. “All died when they fell from the wall. I think you can imagine where those blood smears came from.”

“Any clue if they jumped or were pushed?”

“I can’t say for certain. But…There are some strange scratch marks on their bodies. It looks like it came from their own claws. Like they were trying to dig their skin apart…”

“I see…” Lucon looked to the gate. It stood proud and silent, no sign there was anything wrong. “Anything else of note?”

“Not without a proper dissection.” The surgeon bit on the end of his pipe. “That’s all I can say for now.”

“Thank you.” Lucon turned to his officers. “Get the gate open. We’re not going to find out anything just by waiting here.”

Soldiers, armed with ropes and hooks, approached a cleared section of the wall and threw their ropes. After ensuring the hooks were secured they began a slow and ponderous climb. Archers, the few archers that came from the Heartlands, took up position ready to strike down anything hostile moving on the wall.

“Any sign of other forces?” Lucon asked. “We aren’t the only soldiers near the city. Surely?”

“We are probably the closest.” His subordinate softly replied. “Eidfell has incredible defences. It makes sense to concentrate our strength here, not that there would be many that would reach here without having to pass through the mountains and outlying fortresses.”

“So we might be the only ones for some time.” Lucon sighed. “Send a group of riders to the nearest major town. Tell them to send reinforcements and that something horrible has happened.”

Lucon bit his lip. “Even if it destroys us, someone has to know that something terrible happened here. Better that than just wandering into a catastrophe.”

The selected few were more than happy to leave. They took their supplies and hurried along the road, staying right in the middle to give the still burning homes and hamlets as wide a berth as possible.

The climbers reached the top of the wall and clambered over. They glanced either side and visibly relaxed. One peered back and shrugged.

“What’s he saying?”

“There’s no one there.” Someone replied. “No one at all.”

“Did they all jump?” The surgeon asked. “It would explain the spacing, I suppose.”

Lucon had no way to confirm or deny the surgeon’s thought, but it was an intriguing thought.

The soldiers disappeared from view. A mighty groan emanated from the gate as it slowly swung open. The soldiers stood on the other side, unharmed but shaken.

“There’s more of them inside.” A soldier said. “Looks like they fell…I don’t know.”

Lucon clenched his fist and ordered the men to advance. They assumed a tight formation and slowly walked through the gate. Once bustling city streets were completely devoid of movement. Some small fires burned, remains of stoves and open markets smouldered tiny trails of smoke, but there was no sign of life.

“You think those things,” Lucon’s subordinate nodded to the burning houses. “Took everyone? Or those animal people things?”

“There were four people in that house,” Lucon mumbled. “Imagine how big it’ll be if it has everyone in here.”

A soldier raised his hand for everyone to stop. Something moved in one of the houses, pottery smashed and a door creaked open.

“Archers.” The order was softly repeated. Their bows trained on the door as something stumbled out.

It was one of the dog humans. This held a thick cloak close to its body, pulled tight around its head. Its clawed hands pulled so tight on the cloth it had torn but it did not appear to care. Terrified eyes swivelled around until they focused on the soldiers. Clarity and sanity returned, its muzzle softened as it raised its hand.

“Help me!” The dog creature spoke with a male voice. “Please!”

It started running towards them, uncaring or unaware of the arrows pointed at them.

“Don’t shoot,” Lucon said. “Someone stop…Him.”

A very large soldier broke their ranks, one of the few with a shield, and stopped a few paces from the dog creature. The dog creature stopped, its canine feet scuffed on the flat stone as it tried to get a grip.

“Don’t come any closer.” The large soldier growled, not in a menacing way.

“What?” The dog pulled its cloak tighter. “What is happening?”

“Who are you?” Lucon asked, more ordered. “Tell us in the simplest terms you can.”

“I…” The dog creature scratched his elongated nose with its claws. “I was preparing dinner for my family…Everything went bright. I couldn’t see…When I could I was like…” He raised his hand. “This.”

“Have you been out of your home until now?” Lucon asked. “There…”

More sound began to emanate from the nearby buildings. Things moved behind the shuttered doors, glints of eyes like predators hunting a deer in the night. The doors opened and more of the animal creatures emerged draped in whatever scraps of cloth they could find. Now there were hundreds, of a greater variety than those they found outside the walls; dogs, cats, birds, sharks, turtles, some kind of frogs and snakes and spiders. Some had more human bodies, at least their upper half like the snakes and siders, but their lower halves were far more animalistic than the others. Everyone had turned into beasts. Yet no one wore any clothes.

None said a word, everyone just stared at each other in utter confusion. Wind whistled through the open city gate and rattled the awnings and stretched cloth sails.

“What do we do?” An officer finally asked Lucon.

Lucon cleared his throat. “Are you all citizens of Eidfell?”

A few nodded but most were still stunned by what they had become.

“What is happening to me?!” One of the beast creatures screamed.

Whatever had kept them together finally broke and the crowds of beasts began to cry, scream and wail uncontrollably. The soldiers huddled tighter in their formation but lowered their weapons. No one had any idea what was happening.

A few particularly large beasts, these were almost twice the height of a normal human, incredibly strong with curled horns either side of large floppy ears, pushed their way to the front. Lucon thought they were cows, or buffalo’s at the very least. The soldiers readied their weapons, especially their javelins designed to deal with large bears and wolves.

“I…” One of the cow beasts rubbed his stubby fingers over his chin. “What is this?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Lucon said from behind the safety of his soldiers. “S-Shouldn’t there be more people?”

“Some…” The cow shook his head, the others with him looked to be on the verge of tears. He looked to an open house. Lucon could see an arm of a reptile beast resting in a pool of growing blood. “They couldn’t take it, what we are…Is this a dream? Please tell me this is a horrible dream?”

“Explains what we found outside.” An officer muttered.

“Can you assure me you aren’t hostile?” Lucon said. “We have some food and supplies, for what good it will do.”

“We have food.” The cow shook his head. “It’s…”

The wailing behind had become little more than a whimper, those that looked older moved between those crying and tried to calm them despite trembling themselves. The smaller beasts, Lucon presumed they were children, were in a far better condition, mentally at least, but they probably didn’t understand that this was reality and not a wild dream.

“But…”

“Bring everyone out,” Lucon said. “They must not stay inside. We need to…Take numbers. Our surgeons will do their best to treat wounds-”

“Why did this happen to us?” A turtle beast asked. Lucon immediately thought it was a female, given its softer features compared to the others. “What did we do to deserve this?!”

“I don’t know!” Lucon shouted. The nearby beasts recoiled from his shout. “I don’t know! But screaming won’t fix any of this! Now, I am the most superior officer of the United Empire in Eidfell now and you will listen to what I have to say!”

Some of the beasts, a seemingly random assortment, almost snapped to attention. Lucon did not know if they were former city guards or soldiers stationed here, even if they were part of his old squad, but it did not matter. Right now the most important thing was to maintain order and not let things devolve any further. His thoughts were confirmed as more buildings began to open with more and more beasts flowing into the streets.

“Now!” Lucon pointed to the large cow beasts. “I need all the help we can get. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes, sir.” The cows saluted. Lucon held his face, being acknowledge by bestial creatures capable of perfect speech, was not an experience he thought he would ever have. “Medical supplies-”

“Everything. Anything and everything.” Lucon waved his soldiers forward. “Bandages, alcohol to clean wounds, food and…Everything you can think of.”

The cows, and the other braver beasts, roughly saluted and pushed their way through the terrified crowds.

“How long do you expect we can keep this up?” Lucon’s subordinate asked. “There are thousands-”

“We will do everything we can until we receive orders,” Lucon said. “What else can we do?”

“Find out what caused this?” The man shrugged as he looked deeper into the city. “Stop if it’s going to happen again.”

“Yes…” Lucon readied his weapon. “And I have a very good idea who’s to blame.”

Lucon pointed to the most experienced soldiers under his command. “You are to come with me. We’re going to find that cat bitch. She has some explaining to do.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 23 - Mezot's Confirmation

Anton frowned as he turned the next page. The story just stopped. On the previous page Lucon was about to find Ikel and everything just…Stopped. Like a final chapter had been removed. What read next was an epilogue, stating the Beast-kin integrated into the United Empire and a considerable amount of pro United Empire propaganda and the dangers of outsiders and bargains with forces one did not understand.

“They can’t just stop there.” Anton flicked the pages back and forth. “Not when we were so close to a proper ending. Has it been removed?”

Anton checked the seam and could not find any sign there were missing pages. He sighed softly and gently closed the book. No one spoke a word as Anton tapped the hard cover.

“Well…” Anton couldn’t find the right words. “That was a tale. Especially those things near the end…That...”

“Beast-kin…Invaders?” Cetina said softly. “What…” She shuffled closer. “What do you think those back home would think?”

Anton ran a hand through his hair. Only then did he realise he had lost track of time. He understood completely why Mezot could become lost in intriguing tales.

“Honestly? I think it’ll give the people that hate Beast-kin-”

"How could he have known that?" Mezot asked, frowning lightly. She too pulled closer to Anton before opening the book and flicking through the pages. "Lucon. It is always told through his perspective..."

"He must have been the one to tell the story." Anton mused. "So whoever wrote this, Waltheof Pavlovna, did so from that point of view."

So observant to a flaw in a story and yet...

Mezot continued to frown. "But Lucon wasn't there when Svafar and Ikel fought, when the creation she was building failed. How..." Mezot ribbed her temple. "How did Lucon know what it looked like? Or that Ikel wanted to begin a Beastkin invasion?"

Cetina slowly nodded and looked to Anton for an answer.

"Well," Anton shuffled forward. “There are a couple of possibilities. First-”

“What…” Mezot shrunk down slightly.

“-First, it could just be entirely fictional. At least the part where Svafar and Ikel fought. It might just be propaganda.” Anton tapped the book. “Especially if the United Empire blamed the Beast-kin for their failure in defeating the Wood Elves in the subsequent years. A revision-”

“I’ve read that story!” Mezot smiled and pointed to the level above. “It’s somewhere up there. It’s an interesting story…But I don’t think we have time.”

Anton nodded. “Now, I don’t believe that’s true. This doesn’t look like propaganda…If they were trying to make the Beast-kin look like villains they wouldn’t have made them the inventors of an improved type of steel. Now,” Anton clapped his hands. “It could just be pure speculation. But I believe that Lucon found them.”

He opened the book to the last page. “It just sort of…ends. Right after they start organizing supplies to help the Beast-kin. There’s this end blurb that says the Beast-kin began to integrate afterwards… No. I think that when Lucon recounted what happened he left out what he found in the laboratory. He found them, Svafar and Ikel, or whatever was left of them. Maybe a pile of fused flesh. And from that, he found out what Ikel was originally planning. But it doesn’t explain why they put the part with them fighting in the laboratory. Perhaps the censors didn’t think the fight was an issue but the next bit was…I don’t know. Maybe the United Empire didn’t have issues with public order when they released this and this was one of the few copies to survive the disintergration of the Empire, especially when they started blaming the Beast-kin for their military failures. Again, this is all just speculation.”

Anton looked to where they had found the book. None looked similar to the book and the cover did not hint there was a second part. Lucon’s story might continue somewhere in the library but they did not have the time to search every book, every dusty and disintegrating tome.

“Beast-kin invaders,” Cetina smirked. “Imagine what Seocuria would say if they discovered this?”

“They’d certainly shit themselves.” Anton folded the book close. “I don’t think we can use this against them…Actually, I hate to say it, but it doesn’t really have any bearing on the Beast-kin today.”

“All from one Feline?” Mezot asked. “Ikel was a Feline Beast-kin.” Her eyes narrowed. “And from that came all the different varieties? Like the Arachnid and Minotaurs?”

“Perhaps it was in their genetics?” Anton mused. “Flexible genetics…I’m just talking out of my rear. But I think it’s possible. The whole story would explain why we can interbreed. And the Beast-kin can as well.”

“Do you think we’ll ever get to this place?” Cetina asked. “Eidfell Trellbog? If it’s in the Deweth Clansmen territory then it’s basically off-limits for us.”

“True…” Anton looked to Mezot. He doubted she would have connections there. She barely had connections in the Royal Academy. “Something for another day. Now, Mezot?”

“Yes?”

“Can you keep everything you’ve seen today a secret?” Anton stopped. He could hear nothing from the levels above. They were quite far down so not hearing anything was a given, not to mention the guard was more than likely asleep. “Like my additions and what we’ve read in this book? Especially from the special people at my home. They don’t need this to distract them, and I honestly don’t know how they’ll take it.”

“I understand.” Mezot nodded once. “I can keep a secret.”

I wonder if anyone’s ever confided in you…That’s a slightly sad thought.

“That’s enough reading for today.” Anton slowly stood up. “Do you think we’ll be able to keep this?”

“I…I honestly don’t know.” Mezot’s chair loudly shuffled backwards. “Likely no. If it’s stored down here they won’t want it to leave. I might be able to…”

Mezot picked the book up. She huffed as she did not expect a simple book to be so heavy. Anton took it back. Mezot appeared a little embarrassed she was struggling with a book, no matter how cute it made her look.

“Let’s see if those guards say anything.” Anton lifted the book up. “We’d better run it by the librarians though.” He began walking to the stairs. “Last thing you ever want to do is to upset the stuffy bureaucrats. Easy way to make your own life a living hell.”

As they began to ascend the stairs, rather loudly given Anton and Cetina’s boots rather than Mezot’s soft shoes, the elderly guard snorted himself awake and unlocked the metal chain. He smiled as they passed, locked the chain once more and went back to his chair. He did not ask about the large book in Anton’s hands.

The floors above were now all but devoid of students. Some still lingered, those in deep study or remaining in their illicit groups. They were no longer so obvious about it, two still looked deeply embarrassed but they had not left, even though the guard continued to keep them in their peripheries. Mezot clearly wanted to explore the public levels again but she kept herself together and walking up. Axia was probably waiting for her at her home, if as much time had passed as Anton thought.

The moment they reached the top Anton felt eyes train on him. Thankfully it was just the Librarians, barely raising their heads from their desks but their fierce eyes refused to detach from Anton.

“You’d better not have been doing something naughty down there.” The front Librarian muttered towards Anton. Her eyes softened at Mezot. “Don’t let these strangers take advantage of you.”

“I’m not.” Mezot coughed and gripped her hands tight. “I finally understand what’s been done to me…I would like to take this book.”

Anton raised the golden trimmed black book.

“To study.” Mezot quickly added. “I wish to read this at my own leisure.”

“You’ve been down there a long time.” The Librarian did not take her eyes off Mezot as she helped a student. “How have you not finished that book?”

“I already have.” Mezot’s eyes flicked to Anton. “But I wish to read it again.”

The Librarian sighed and beckoned them to approach. A Librarian at the back eyed Anton and Cetina, a gnarled finger touched something hidden by her thick shawl. Anton was certain she was touching her Charm, just in case.

“This came from the restricted section.” The Librarian tapped the hard cover of the book. “So you understand that not just anyone should read this.”

“I understand.”

“…Very well.” The Librarian pushed the book back to Mezot. “Just return it when you’re done. It’s not a popular book, so there shouldn’t be many after it.”

“Thank you.” Mezot held the book to her chest, wrapping her arms around it to keep the heavy book from slipping down.

The Librarian almost smiled, shook her head and returned to her work. Anton had not seen her make a note but she must have. There was no way they could recall everything that passed through their doors, unless they all had photographic memories.

As they left Anton directed them to the side. Mezot was already walking towards her home when Anton gently held her should. She spun on the spot, almost losing her balance and needing Anton to hold her other. Mezot pulled an embarrassed face.

“Sorry,” Mezot mumbled. She held the book out, just for a moment before the weight became too heavy and pulled it back against her chest. “I was just so excited to get a new book. But…Axia will probably be home by now. The lessons don’t last that long.”

“If they try to teach for too long the student’s mind just goes soft.” Anton mused.

“Actually…” Mezot glanced to her distant residence. “I think that…That might work.”

“What are you planning?” Cetina asked. Her lip twitched, and she almost rolled her eye as she realized her words might sound a little derogative.

Mezot did not notice and continued. “I believe that Axia will be using a training Charm, one that has no specific affinity. They’re very sturdy. Though…Though the magic that goes through it won’t be as strong as mine. Great for…Practice. Especially…If you don’t know anything about Principle Magic…”

“I see.” Anton held his chin, staring down in faux puzzlement. “Who would need something like that? You already know more about Principle Magic that any of us…”

Mezot looked genuinely concerned. Anton smiled and waved down her impending panic attack.

“Sorry, Mezot.” Anton took the book from Mezot’s arms. “If you’re willing to teach an unruly and foolish person like me, I’d be delighted to be your student.”

Mezot’s face lit up in delight. “After everything you’ve done…Of course.” Mezot rubbed her cheeks. “I was trying to ask that…Would you be interested? Even if it’s for a short time I think you would do extremely well.”

“Of course.” Anton smiled at Cetina. “I’m sorry that you’re going to have to watch me struggle with something that even a young child would succeed at.”

Cetina smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell Verona and Kal. It’ll be a great story to tell, I’m sure that it’ll give them a few good laughs.”

Anton returned the smile and leant to Cetina’s ear. “Prepare yourself. I’m not going to let you get a wink of sleep tonight.”

Cetina’s face instantly turned red. She kept her face flat as Mezot frowned at Anton.

“What did you just say?” Mezot asked softly.

“Don’t worry.” Anton gently ushered Mezot towards her residence. “She’s just contemplating a few things. Now, how quickly you give me a crash course?”

---[]---

Anton groaned and stared at the ceiling. “This is incredibly difficult. How do you manage to do this so fast?”

Anton and Mezot sat at a small desk inside a magically protected building. It was used for practising large magic and bared the scars of mistakes; damaged and burnt walls, wooden floor panels were warped from water and even a few tiny scraps of clothes.

“Practice,” Mezot said calmly. “Lots of practice.”

Mezot sat barely an inch from Anton, the simple chairs were almost touching. Mezot took her charm, removed from her staff with some difficulty, and placed it before her. She held one hand on the central crystal.

“But…But I understand that it can be difficult to do on your first attempt.” Mezot frowned lightly. “Though most students do know how to read, like you…Where you did you learn to read?”

Anton stopped looking at the ceiling. He lightly slapped his cheeks for behaving like a petulant child and forced himself to focus. Mezot looked rather concerned that he just attacked himself but he focused on the simple Training Charm before him. Unlike Mezot’s rather beautiful and ornate charm his looked rather pathetic. It had the same shape but was much smaller and the gemstones were dull and roughly cut. They were fastened well but it looked far cheaper than Mezot’s.

“Sorry, Mezot.” Anton held his hand on the Training Charm. “You’re trying to teach me and it feels like it’s just bouncing out of my mind.” Anton lightly sighed. “Perhaps this is one of the disadvantages of using Glyph Magic to start with. It’s so, so much more simple.”

Mezot nodded understandingly. “Given what little I’ve read about Glyph Magic I thought that it might be a hindrance…But usually a prospective student would be able to make some type of magic.”

Mezot took the Training Charm from Anton and inspected it closely, almost right up to her bright blue eyes.

“Perhaps there’s something wrong with it,” Mezot whispered.

“It worked fine for me!” A voice called out from behind. “I was able to use a Fire Snake and an Earth Pebble today.”

Axia and Cetina sat on a bench behind them, behind a bar that glowed with a faint magical hue. Scorch and scuff marks stopped a few inches away from the edge. Hurting or killing those observing magical demonstrations was a sure way to destroy the Royal Academy. The two were speaking softly just, mainly Axia was interested in Cetina’s armour and how she, a woman without magic, fought alongside Anton. Despite her inquisitive face, Anton could tell her attention was divided between Cetina and Anton.

“We should have checked how much mana you two have,” Anton said.

“How did you manage to get a Mana Determinator?” Mezot frowned as she continued to inspect the Training Charm. “Those are extremely expensive.”

“We kind of made our own.” Anton tapped on the Glyph of Tethra on his hand. “Using Tethra’s power. It’s not really that accurate…Do you have it anywhere nearby?”

“It’s normally only brought out during the spring, so…”

Mezot placed the Training Charm beside her own and left the table. She made a hurried walk towards the exit, Cetina raised a silent brow while Axia sighed loudly.

“So…” Axia slowly sauntered to the table. “Did you find what you were looking for? I take it’s that book?” Axia nodded back to the black and gold-trimmed book resting on the bench. “Mother’s looking very excited.”

Anton turned in his chair. “We did. Not exactly what we were expecting but certainly an answer. Unfortunately…”

“It raised more questions than answers,” Cetina said. “I don’t think there’s anyone alive that knows the truth.”

“True.” Anton sighed. He slapped his thighs. “And what about you? Mezot said you were having a practical test. And are the other students still being jerks?”

Axia took Mezot’s seat with a might flop. “Not so much. Some heard how much my mother’s improved. One even asked if she was seeing anyone. Well…We know that’s an interesting conversation.”

“And I’m sure you were giggling every step of the way.” Anton ruffled her hair. Axia went silent until he was done. She blinked harshly and shook her head.

“I can’t believe that you’re having difficulty using this to use magic.” Axia held the Training Charm with one hand. “Even just to make it glow bright. That would be a good start.”

“Well,” Anton heard Mezot begin to return. “I don’t think I have any magic in my body.”

Axia’s blank face quickly transformed into a deep frown. “But I’ve seen you-”

“I have it.” Mezot proudly held a small box in her arms. “It wasn’t even locked…”

Mezot stared at Axia, who sat in her chair next to Anton. Axia shuffled closer to Anton, just for an instant, before jumping out of her chair. She gave Anton a wink when Mezot could not see her. She had done it just to see Mezot’s eye twitch.

“This…” Mezot threw a long sideways glare at her daughter as she placed the box onto the table. “Is the Mana Determinator. A delicate magical construct that accurately and reliably shows how much mana a person has within their body.”

Mezot opened the box. The Mana Determinator was built into the box, a strange assortment of thin metal wires dipped in thick different coloured waxes all connected to a large dull-white spherical rock nestled in the centre. Two wires led out of the base of the stone and to the inside of the lid and a dial, ranging from zero to one hundred.

“I think I understand this without even having an explanation,” Anton said. “Just for an example, can you show me what yours is?”

Mezot eagerly placed her hand onto the stone. The dial quickly shifted off the zero and began to slow as it reached the eighty mark. It stopped completely when it sat on eighty-six.

“Eighty-six…What?” Anton peered closer at the dial. “What units do they measure magical capacity in?”

“I don’t know.” Mezot pondered his question for a time. “I don’t know. Everyone has talked about it as their reading.” Mezot frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Let me try!” Axia excited wormed her way underneath her mother’s arm.

Mezot removed her hand, almost smiled at her daughter as she placed hers on the stone. This time the dial stopped on seventy.

“Damn.” Axia snapped her fingers. “I thought I would be better than that.”

“It will continue to grow.” Mezot tried to reassure her daughter, who wasn’t really perturbed. “Mine was lower when I was discovered.”

Axia smiled at her mother’s attempts.

“I suppose I should see how much I can do,” Cetina said.

The dial only read five for Cetina. She didn’t appear that disappointed but Mezot looked very perplexed.

“Most humans have at least eight or nine on the dial.”

“I have Ghlyirl in my blood.” Cetina tapped her eyepatch. “That’s why I can’t see. Anton can heal just about any wound but not anything with Ghlyirl in it. And my eye, and the skin around it, is infested in it.” Cetina smiled. “I don’t want to have someone carve into my face in the chance I might be able to get it back. This eyepatch lets me see better than before. Besides…It makes me a little unique. Don’t you think?”

Mezot stared blankly at Mezot’s eye, Axia gave an encouraging thumbs-up.

“What about you?” Mezot snapped away from Cetina.

Anton lightly sighed and held the stone. The dial refused to shift from the zero mark. Axia leant over and pushed the dial forward. She smiled as it easily moved but the moment she let go the dial snapped back to zero, far faster than when they had removed their hands.

“I don’t understand.” Mezot tapped the back of Anton’s hand. “Is it related to that?” She pointed to his feet.

“No.” Anton removed his other glove. “It’s related to this.”

He held his other hand up, the hand with the dulled white crystal embedded.

“I think that this is the only thing that allows me to use magic.” Anton gestured to the dial. “It’s quite clear I have none. I…I hope that this doesn’t break it.”

Anton turned his hand over and touched the smooth stone with the crystal. The dial shot up to a hundred and threatened to go further. Anton immediately removed his hand. A faint hint of burning plastic, wax, filled the air. The wax coating the wires was now shiny and soft, as if it was incredibly hot. Axia dared to touch it but Anton gently blocked her fingers.

“That is…Fascinating.” Mezot held Anton’s hand. “Incredibly fascinating.”

“Despite your best work, I think Principle Magic might just be impossible for me.” Anton dramatically sighed. “I have a great teacher. But it might just be beyond me.”

Mezot’s shoulders dropped. “I really wanted to teach you…”

“And you still can.” Anton gently held her hand. “But…This, I think, is just one of those things that you can’t fix. No one can.”

“Did something happen to you like what happened to Cetina?” Axia asked softly.

“…Kind of.” Anton shrugged. “I don’t have a good memory of what happened before I arrived in Atros. Everything’s a blank. Who knows, I could have easily an escaped magical experiment, wandering the lands until I stumbled into Atros.”

Axia liked the idea, if only in an attempt to make Anton feel better, but Mezot did not buy a word. Nevertheless, she did not object or try and pry further.

“I-”

Mezot’s words were cut off by a loud but gentle chime that rang throughout the hall.

“Oh. That’s the end of the day.” Axia laughed. “I can’t believe we actually spent nearly a third of it here.”

“Even more in the library.” Anton rose from his chair. “I’m sorry, Mezot, that I can’t be a better student…”

He trailed off as he saw Mezot staring daggers at the Mana Determinator, as if it was responsible for Anton’s lack of magic and inability for him to be her student.

“Mezot?”

“Yes?” Her eyes snapped away.

"I will consult the library tomorrow about this," Mezot mumbled. "I haven't read of any human, not afflicted by Ghlyirl, that has a zero reading."

"Please just be delicate with your questions." Mezot threw him an odd look. "Someone might get the idea that's the reason why I sought you out."

"It was part of the reason," Mezot said softly.

"True. But to learn Principle Magic." Anton tapped the Training Charm. "Anyway, I just don't want them to find out."

Mezot gave a final nod.

"When will you be free next?" Anton closed the lid of the Mana Determinator. "We need you in Atros as often as we can."

Before Mezot could reply Axia nudged her mother's side.

"What?"

Axia refused to answer and simply nodded towards Anton.

"I...I could come in two or three days. I need time to settle my schedule. Work out my teaching plans, now that my head is working better, so I can visit Atros."

"Fantastic." Anton locked the box. "We'd better be going ourselves. It's getting late and I want something good to eat."

"What do you have in that city of yours?" Axia asked.

"A great many things. Actually...Actually not as many as I first thought, but everything is fantastic."

"Especially those cheesy potatoes you made for Rasha," Cetina said. "Those were delicious."

"Next time you swing by Atros I'll make you some so delicious you’ll eat until you burst."

Axia was ecstatic and her mother wasn't that far behind. Good food was always a sure-fire way to impress.

Volume 05 - Chapter 24 - Outpost

“I…I don’t believe it.” Kal shook her head. She pulled closer to Anton as she flicked through the pages of the book. “Beast-kin…Invaders?”

“That’s what it says.” Anton gently held Kal’s hand. “According to this book…The original Beast-kin not only came from another world but wanted to invade this one.”

Verona sat opposite, frowning at upside-down words that she could not understand. “But…”

Cetina sat at the end of the table and shifted her weight. There was little she could add that hadn’t already been said.

After leaving the portal Anton had said little. It had caught Verona and Kal as odd, especially after such a potentially important meeting with Mezot and securing the necessary supplies. He should have been more than jubilant but even he knew his face held a great many conflicting thoughts. They agreed to hold their questions until they reached home. Anton made sure everyone was seated, especially Kal and Rasha. The Beast-kin appeared very anxious until Anton began to explain what he had discovered as simply and delicately as possible.

“So…” Rasha scratched the base of her horn. She sat against the wall as none of their chairs could safely take her weight, even without her armour. “So…”

“It is a strange story.” Verona leant on the table. “But you said that you don’t know if it’s true.”

“Correct. Only way to prove that it’s true is by asking someone that was there. And that’s an impossibility. And even then they might just lie.”

“I see…”

Rasha shifted, her armour grinding lightly against the wooden wall. “I don’t feel like an Invader. You don’t think we might…Listen to their thoughts? If they try again.”

“Of course not!” Kal slammed the book shut, startling herself and everyone nearby. “I don’t know why this has me so on edge, but it has.”

“Come to think of it.” Anton held Kal’s fur-covered forearms. “When the Demons arrived at Fort Acidava you started panicking and telling us that we had to leave.”

“And a few others as well.” Verona mused. “Were they Beast-kin too? There were quite a few…” She smiled. “And they were all wearing full armour too.”

“It might have something to do with that.” Anton gently stroked the short, incredibly soft fur. “Those two being ripped apart in that portal…”

“Maybe.” Kal sighed. She closed her eyes before gently rubbing her swelling stomach. “It must be the baby that’s making me a little strange. Marion said that she, and nearly every woman, acts oddly when they were pregnant.”

“Not me.” Verona proudly proclaimed. “I-”

“You’re just as strange as you were the day I met you,” Anton said snidely.

A leg tried to strike him but it was too short. Verona huffed and wormed her way underneath the table until she hit. She emerged looking rather happy with herself.

Rasha gently scratched her knees. “I was going to say something about the food you’ve been asking about…”

“No need to bring that up.” Verona chuckled nervously, throwing Rasha a mildly annoyed glare.

“To me, it doesn’t matter.” Anton rested his hands on the book. “But I wanted you to know what I found. I didn’t want you to wonder why I might be acting weird. Well, weirder than normal.”

“I honestly don’t think it matters,” Kal said. “I am not one of them. Just like I am nothing like my father. Anton, please return this book the first chance you have. The Beast-kin of today, of Atros or even Seocuria, have nothing to do with what is written in this book.”

“I will.” Anton moved to pick the book up. “But, just in case someone gets their little hands on this.”

He chanted a prayer to shock anyone that opened the book before it returned to Mezot’s hands. With the spell placed he placed the book in a secure hiding spot in their home and returned to the others.

“Did you get everything else though?” Rasha asked. “I carried a lot of books and other stuff but I don’t know what any of it is.”

“Honestly, neither do I.” Anton shrugged. “Mezot said we needed it so that’s what I got.” Anton looked to the dimming sky. “We won’t be doing anything more today. Just…”

“Just what?” Kal reached for his hand.

“Just that we can’t move any faster or do anything more to deal with all the threats facing us. Especially the Goblins at Surdon.”

“Oh!” Verona waved her hand high. “Dana came around today. She wants your help to set up those perimeter outposts. They’ve built the towers, have a lot of them in place, but they need the Lightning Crows. And only you can do that…Actually, I think that Jocelyn could do it. But I don’t want her to mess it up.”

“First thing in the morning.” Anton clapped and wrung his hands together. “Now, who wants to help me make dinner? It’ll go much faster if I get some help.”

Verona shot up, eager to get her fill. The others got ready to help as well, even Rasha. According to all the girls, no one could make a cheesy baked potato quite like him.

---[]---

A bitterly cold wind lashed Anton’s face. The location for the southernmost perimeter outpost was a small hill in the open grasslands, now turned completely white with nothing more than a small smattering of snow. It offered near unobstructed view for miles around, not that there was much to look at. The perimeter outpost was not much to look at either: a tall and simple wooden watchtower with an enclosed platform. Overall, it was sufficient to protect the Strohierite stone and the bound Lightning Crow from the weather and any errant attack. As no one would be calling this place home there was little else. Only a small wooden wall constructed around the very base of the watchtower to keep any wild animals away and from potentially bringing it down.

"This is the last one," Dana said proudly. Despite the cold, she wore only a little more than usual. The knowledge that Atros would be even more secure provided her with all the warmth she needed. "Those little bastards won't be sneaking up on us again."

Anton did not know exactly how to respond. Dana had spent some time in the company of the Goblins because she had ridden right into the middle of an ambush. It was something Anton didn't want to think about, doubly so for Dana.

"So long as they don't go underground," Anton said. "I don't think they have the technology or the patience to dig a reliable tunnel for miles."

But that cult might just force them, if that's how much control they have.

"And we'd see the mounds of fresh dirt too." Anton waved across the white expanse. "Especially during winter."

"I'm glad to hear it." Dana looked to the south as well. "Though my riders will have to travel further to find any enemies."

"Just remember that they will only target Goblins and Ghlotsm. Not just anything that's hostile to Atros...I suppose I could tell the birds that but that brings up a whole load of questions."

"We're ready!" A voice cried out from the top of the watchtower.

Calo and Sheso leant over the edge through the small entrance. It was barely large enough for an adult human but for the young Dark Elves, it wasn't even a noticeable issue.

"We've put up a wooden board just behind us," Calo shouted down. "It'll stop any sort of rain or arrows from hitting that stone."

Kal, standing beside Anton on the ground, pulled out the last Strohierite stone given to them by Ferula. Anton was still annoyed they could not readily find more. However, it appeared to be as rare as she claimed it to be.

"Thank you, Kal."

Anton clasped his hands around the base of the stone and bound within a small Lightning Crow. The creature emerged from its small disk of light and stared at him, waiting for instructions. While Anton would have preferred a Large Lightning Crow, able to shoot three lightning bolts instead of one, but the stone was simply too small to contain it. A single Small Lightning Crow was more than sufficient, especially when it could fly out of their range and pummel them from above.

"Can one of you come down?!" Anton shouted upwards. "I don't want to try and throw this up there."

"I'm sure I could," Rasha said softly.

"You'd probably go over with just a toss," Cetina said softly. "You're a lot stronger than any of us."

"I...I know that." Rasha shrugged. "But I'm not some brute that would crush someone if I were to give them a hug."

"You'd probably..." Anton trailed off, not wanting to voice his thought. He didn't want to know he just imagined her picking someone up into a huge, smothering their head with her breasts. It didn't help matters that he knew exactly how large and soft they were.

Rasha frowned but appeared not to mind. Everything was in jest, after all. A smile crept over her face.

"Maybe I could learn how to use a sling? It wouldn't be a little pebble, but a rock! Easily the size of my fist." Rasha grinned, leaning her weight onto her halberd. "It would take a Knight's head clean off."

"Getting pelted by a rock is probably the last thing anyone would expect facing someone like you." Anton mused. He looked down to the Small Lightning Crow eagerly awaiting instructions. "Is one of you two going to come down or am I going to have to get Rasha to throw this at you?"

Rasha wasn't entirely sure if he spoke in jest or not.

Calo and Sheso stopped their bickering and scrambled down the ladder. Anton’s heart jumped a little as they came down together, hanging over the edge so they could both fit. Rather, they didn’t have a choice as neither was willing to go second.

“Is this a bit of sibling rivalry going on here?” Anton asked softly.

The twins stepped on the ground with a grace Anton expected only from Elves and calmly walked to them. Their beaming faces held no hint of the previous argument.

“Take this to the top,” Anton said. “And make sure it’s placed securely into its little nest. The stone that is. The bird’s going to fly off the second I give it instructions. Hopefully…” Anton glanced at Dana. “Hopefully not, but you never know.”

“Shame we didn’t have these in The Shadow Isles,” Calo mumbled. “We would be here…Not that we don’t like being in Atros.”

“I understand.” Anton looked to the Strohierite stone. “But this, hopefully, will stop anything like that from happening again.”

He quietly ordered the bound Small Lightning Crow to attack any Ghlotsm or Goblin within its maximum range. Disappointingly the creature shot into the sky and flew south. Dana tensed as they all watched the small creature. It stopped just before the limit of its range and began to fire. Lightning bolts struck the ground repeatedly. Only after twenty hits did the Goblins break from the snow and retreat to the south with the Lightning Crow hounding them as far as it could.

“See?” Dana grumbled. “They’re far too close.”

“Being anywhere near Atros is too close.” Anton looked to the north. Mount Aspire still loomed in the distance but Atros was very small, only the smoke trails against the white snow gave any indication of its location or even existence. “Can you two please take this up there? Don’t drop it. I don’t think it’s particularly strong.”

Sheso snatched it from his hands just as Calo reached for it. Calo threw her sister a dirty look but did not complain. As they ascended the ladder Anton heard the two bicker.

“So what’s the plan now?” Cetina asked. “Now that Atros is…Slightly more secure than it was.”

Dana scoffed. “I’m sure our sentries and guards will have seen that lightning display. Now, even if they attack during the night, we’ll see them coming. Especially in the night.”

“Unless they use those Blue Goblins,” Anton said, Dana’s brows furrowed. “They can unbind magic. I’m not using particularly complex magic, and I don’t know if it’ll affect a summoned creature bound to a Strohierite stone, but it’s something to think of.”

“So this whole thing could be pointless?”

“What choice do we have?” Anton clicked his tongue. “We have a very good defensive measure, or nothing at all because something might be able to pierce it? All it means is that we need to remain vigilant around Atros.”

“I see…” Dana held her chin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Is there some way to make sure the creature is still up there?”

“We really didn’t think about that when we were designing these things.” Anton saw the twins wave and begin their descent. “Really wasn’t a thing we even worried about. I guess you’ll have to get someone thin and spritely to run up there. If they see a Lightning Crow glaring back at them, they’ll know they’re still there.”

Dana laughed. “Fair enough.” The Small Lightning Crow flew over their heads and darted into the small watchtower. “It’ll have to do. Better than nothing. Right?”

“Absolutely.” Anton brushed the snow on his face. “Better than just sitting on our butts and waiting for the end.”

“So what’s next?” Rasha leant on her halberd. “Normally you’re really busy with stuff…And with this done it sounds like you’re kind of free.”

“Almost.” Anton produced a small piece of paper from his clothes. “Could you please hold this up for me?”

Rasha complied. She rested the halberd in the crook of her arm and held the piece of paper aloft.

“Oh. It’s that map.” Rasha frowned. “Who copied this? Did you have that Graterian woman, Mezot, do this?”

“No.” Anton smiled. “I don’t think I’d ever get it back. No, just someone that manages our communication pens. They’re normally not doing anything, it’s something for the elderly to essentially have a snooze, but they were really excited to do this. Anyway. I wanted to see this.”

Anton pointed to Dragon Tooth Bay. “The small Dwarven Outpost. These other markers.” Anton waved his hands over the rest of the map. “I seriously doubt there’s going to be anything left. These are cities…I mean, Atros was once a massive city in the United Empire and no one seems to remember it. And it’s just a minor town on a former trading route. Anyway, I don’t think there will be anything left of these cities and potential stashes. Maybe in a few years we can go digging.”

“We didn’t see much on the way through Jaka,” Rasha said softly. “A lot of ruins, but they weren’t as old as this.”

Anton nodded. “No. No they weren’t. But I doubt there are many ways into this place. The Dwarves might have built a massive tunnel to this place but they told me they wouldn’t go that far.”

“So…” Cetina folded her arms. “The Chiroks then?”

“Yep.” Anton gently took the map back of Rasha. “That’s exactly my plan. Plus I might also see any ruins from above. At least I’ll be back before nightfall.”

“Just let us know if you need us,” Cetina said, Rasha nodded as well. “We’ll be stepping through that portal the moment you let me know.”

---[]---

Wind buffeted Anton's head as the Chiroks flew through the steep mountains towards Jaka. Very little snow stuck to the mountains, the smooth surface gave little room for the snow to build on, apart from the odd crevice or fracture. Though the mountains appeared to form a near-impenetrable barrier there were many pathways for those determined enough. Or, in Anton's case, access to flight. The pair of Chiroks lazily followed the same path that Anton had taken after disembarking in Jaka. The giant flying wolves had little desire to fly so far from their pups. They did follow Anton's directions but it was quite begrudging.

Down below Anton saw many creatures eking out an existence in the harsh rocky terrain, thankfully none were Goblins. What did catch his eye were a large group of upright rats near a large Boulder. Rock Rats. If they had remained perfectly still he would not have noticed them.

"I wonder where they fit into all this?" Anton wondered aloud, uncaring that no one could respond. "The Goblins hated them...Those things hate everything."

The Chirok’s noticed as well. They whimpered and whined to catch Anton's attention, to hunt a treat for their pups, but Anton pushed them forward. With a final grumble, the Chiroks continued to fly through the mountain pass. Anton did not wish to waste time but he also knew the Rock Rats were more than capable of making crude weapons. One glance back confirmed his suspicions. The Rock Rats had completely frozen in place but nearly all held stone-tipped spears in their claws.

One could easily land a lucky strike, then you'd be without your mate.

As the salty air of the sea grew stronger Anton looked back.

They're still alive, and even appear to be thriving, so the Goblins have yet to leave Jaka. At least for now. I just hope they aren't building rafts. Not that they'd be a threat to Atros, but someone will suffer their deprivations.

The final mountain gave way to Dragon Tooth Bay. The large bay, protected from the seas by a distant wall of mountains with a single entrance, looked identical to when they left.

Except the Goblins swarming through what remained of Jaka.

No original building remained standing. All had been stripped down so the creatures could build their crude and inferior hovels. Bizarrely the pier remained in once piece. So too did the broken obelisk, stains on the surface told Anton they were using it for target practice. To the north of Jaka, the Crystal Chasm glinted in the winter light. For something so dangerous and destructive it did look beautiful. The purple fog continued to flow from it but only just reached Jaka's old perimeter. Whether it would continue to spread Anton could not say.

"So many targets." Anton smiled. "If we had a Strohierite mine we could just leave them up here in the hills. That would send them running...My White Ghlotsm hasn't made it this far yet, has it?"

Anton did not often check in with the corrupted creature. It was more than happy to be left to its instructions, rather it had no concept of happiness, only succeeding or failing orders. The White Ghlotsm had travelled further towards the crystal chasm but the journey was very slow. The winter was taking its toll and rooting out all of the Goblin nests was proving to be a long and arduous task. Anton cut the connection once he had made sure the previous order still stood, to corrupt every Goblin and Ghlotsm in the Kar Kingdom then to throw themselves into the sea. None of the creatures were opposed to their own deaths. It was just an order, an action to be carried out by a machine.

Strange things.

Anton directed the Chiroks towards the northern edge of the mountains forming the mouth of the bay. According to the ancient map a small Dwarven Outpost lay within. The Chirok did not understand where they were heading and flew high and slow, attempting to find a place to land.

“If it was obvious I would have seen it coming in. And the Kar Kingdom would have plundered it…Just like I want to.”

Anton pulled lightly on the reins and the Chirok began to fly in a circle around the mountain. The snow obscured nearly everything at the top of the mountain but something caught his attention. Four small areas were free from snow, four barren points that formed a large rectangle. As the Chirok continued to circle he saw the rectangle had been carved deep into the mountain. Nature almost never produced something so clean, especially on the top of a mountain.

“We’ve found our landing spot,” Anton announced triumphantly. “No wonder they never found it.”

The Chiroks did not want to follow his orders. For all they knew he was directing them into the mountain.

As they flew over Anton released a volley of Fire Bombs onto the rectangle. The fiery explosions blasted the snow away and melted what remained. After another tug the Chiroks recognized the rectangle as a safe landing site and swiftly descended. The rectangle was more than large enough for both.

“Just be careful.” Anton felt the beasts trepidation. “We don’t know if there are any traps still in this place.”

The Chirok’s landed with barely a noise, only the final beat of their wings echoed through the rectangular depression. Anton dismounted after ensuring nothing came to greet them. The stone beneath their feet had been carved by skilled hands, Dwarvish hands judging by the small markings. He gently stroked the Chiroks neck, it appreciated the gesture and began to nuzzle his mate. Anton summoned four small Fire Imps. Though they were not too powerful, compared to his normal magic, they would trigger any potential traps. He was sure they would be miffed at their intended us, if they were capable of such thoughts.

“Now…” Anton brushed away the snowflakes building on his cloak. “How do we get into this base?”

At the end lay a vertical part of the mountain with a short stone door. It was clearly built for Dwarves, at best Anton would have to crouch. He smiled wondering how Cetina or Rasha would fare with such a thing.

“Dwarves can have magical protection…” Anton touched the bag containing the portal stones. “No point in fumbling about with things I don’t understand.”

The Chirok’s quickly curled up next to each other and watched Anton act in silence. He didn’t have to worry about them flying off to hunt fish, even though the male had hunted a seal during their first meeting.

A few moments after the portal flashed and a group of Dwarves stepped through led by Umikgruid.

“It’s pretty cold here.” He rubbed his arms. Anton doubted such a sturdy Dwarf, in build and clothing, actually felt that cold. Especially with his impressive beard.

“It isn’t good.” Anton nodded to the stone door. “You think you can do anything with that?”

Umikgruid ordered the Dwarves to investigate the door, a few broke away to inspect the carvings in the stone ground. They appeared satisfied but had little to say about the simple engravings.

“A Dwarven Outpost…” Umikgruid smiled. “Hopefully there’s something better than just rotten pieces of paper. Oh, all ten chests made their way back to us. They seemed really nervous when I asked if that was all there was. Is it true there were piles of papers inside the treasury?”

“Paper money. Quite worthless to us now, but to the Blood Hammer Dwarves it was more than a small fortune.”

Umikgruid folded his arms. “Strange that paper can hold so much value.”

Anton wished to discuss the concept of paper money again but the Dwarves had already unlocked the door. They shook their heads as they stepped to the side, the small door groaned as it rolled sideways into the mountain.

“Not too bad.” One of the Dwarves said. “Just a simple lock. I don’t think a human could have breached it.” He looked around the rectangular depression. “But I don’t think that many could reach this high.”

“Dwarves might be good miners but we don’t climb that well.” Another said.

“Drakes or Dragons.” Anton offered. “Maybe even Griffons? Just drop a big crate up here…I get the feeling that we’re about to find more bodies in there.”

The Dwarves said nothing but he knew they had already come to the conclusion.

“Before we go in we should get some more people.”

A few minutes later they had a full complement of Dwarven warriors. Several would stay behind with the Chirok’s and the portal, along with Rasha and Cetina. They wanted to follow but knew they could not. Anton was going to have to crouch low to not scrape his head. Clearly, this outpost was designed with only Dwarves in mind.

Anton sent the Fire Imps in first. The small creatures illuminated the way into the outpost. Anton was honestly surprised to see nothing amiss. No bodies or any sign of a scuffle. If anything it appeared to be too clean.

“And ordered departure,” Anton said as he followed the Dwarves into the abandoned tunnels. “No Insects to burst through into these tunnels.”

“Without the main Hold they must have left,” Umikgruid said. “I wonder if they were our ancestors? Perhaps they let them in? Destitute survivors of a crumbling empire.”

The shallow corridor slowly descended for only a few meters before opening up to a height where Anton could stand upright with no issues. Cetina’s head would scrape the roof and Rasha would have to remain crouched.

“A decent defensive measure against a human assault.” Anton frowned as he looked back out the tunnel. “But who would come up here to do that?”

The Dwarves held small lanterns, powered by the small energy cubes, and illuminated the room better than his Fire Imps. They stood in a storage room, filled with rotten crates and desiccated husks of food. Beyond those lay giant logs, far longer than Rasha was tall. One end glinted with the light, a strange blue colour. Anton approached and realized they were gigantic crossbow bolts. Or bolts for a ballista.

“These like the ones in the Dwarven Isles?” Anton gently kicked a bolt lying separate from the pile. The wood shattered under his touch, a plume of grey dust settled over his leg.

“Not…” Umikgruid nodded once. “Exactly. If these are here…Strange. They should be in racks rather than just on the floor. These have only just been delivered. There should be storage racks near the ballista’s themselves.”

Umikgruid waved the Dwarves forward and deeper into the outpost. A few meters past the supplies Anton smelt salty air far stronger than before. A faint current blew through the outpost, the walls ahead were illuminated with natural light well before the Dwarves arrived. Along the corridor were numerous branches leading away from the bay. Anton chose the first branch and found what they were looking for. Two giant ballistae lay nestled inside of a large room. One had a Chelium tipped bolt loaded, the ropes had rotten on both and everything was covered in a thin coating of white salt. The far wall contained thick iron slats that ran in grooves. On each slat lay a handle at Dwarven height. They could be slid across or even removed to allow the ballista the perfect line of fire. These too were rusted and covered in salt. A breeze blew up the mountainside, the pieces of metal groaned and twisted in the wind.

“This is incredible.” Anton inspected the ballista without touching them, lest they break like the bolt. “How many do you think there are?”

Umikgruid hurried the Dwarves further into the outpost. Anton peered out and counted eight branches in total. Each Dwarf that emerged indicated there were two ballistae in each.

“Sixteen is pretty good,” Anton said. “We should take these back to Atros. They’d be a great boon for our defenses…Actually, Mount Aspire could really do with some defenses. Especially the north. Do you think you can create hidden outposts for these?”

Anton touched the edge of the ballista. It did not break but he felt the wood crumble under the slightest touch.

“Of course.” Umikgruid smiled. “But I think you already know it’s going to be impossible to take these back like they are, even with that portal thing of yours.”

“I’ll use Tethra’s ability to restore them-”

“Umikgruid!” A Dwarf shouted along the corridor. “We have something down below.”

“Sleeping quarters, no doubt.” Anton offered.

“No, my Lord.” The Dwarf warrior stood at the top of a flight of stone stairs. “Well, yes. We found the beds. Simple beds. But that’s not what we’ve found.”

Anton followed the Dwarves, flanked by the Small Fire Imps. Anton peered into the ballista rooms as he passed. All were unloaded or in a state of decay, yet there were no bodies present. No scuff marks or signs of a struggle of any kind.

Strange to think they would all leave and not unload the ballistae. Must have been quick.

The Dwarf led them down the flight of stairs. Small light-emitting lamps hung on the wall. The small slot for the energy cube had rusted with salt. None of the Dwarves had even tried to reactivate one, doing so could very well have caused an explosion.

One Dwarf awaited them at the bottom. Anton noticed that his axe was drawn and held tight in his hand, the lantern in the other held close to his body.

Beyond lay the barracks, simple wooden beds for dwarves and little else. Anton did not understand what had irked the Dwarves so much.

"What's wrong?" Anton asked after several long breaths.

The Dwarf pointed to one of the closest beds. At first, Anton thought they were empty but he was wrong. Under the dim light he could not see the Dwarven skull embedded into the decayed pillow. A Dwarf stepped forward but Anton held his shoulder. Instead, he ordered the Fire Imps to walk the length of the barracks and check between every bed. Only when he was certain there was nothing did he relinquish his hold.

"There's a hole in his skull." The Dwarf announced as he approached the first bed. "Looks like some sort of pick. Killed him in one hit."

"And the others?" Umikgruid asked.

The warrior Dwarves quickly checked the other beds. All had a single pickaxe type would to the side of the head. Some appeared to have broken arms and legs. Anton had no idea if the barracks acted like an infirmary but something told him that was not the case this time.

"All of them." Umikgruid shook his head. "Forty Dwarves, all killed in their sleep."

"Seems strange for an outpost to have everyone go to sleep at once," Anton said. "And all neatly tucked into bed? No. They were placed here."

He gently pulled away the cotton sheet covering the closest dead Dwarf. Thick ropes bound their feet and hands together, then those were tied to the corners of the bed. The other beds were checked and, to no one's great surprise, all the dead dwarves were bound in a similar manner.

"What cruel..." The Dwarf could not finish his sentence.

"I don't know. But to overpower this many Dwarves, and this remote a location..." Anton shook his head. "Seems like a ritual to me."

"Whatever for?" Umikgruid asked. "What could they possibly try to do with so many Dwarves?"

"I don't know. I'll ask Mezot, our Principle Mage in Graterious, if there's anything remotely like this. She's scoured most of the Library, perhaps she's seen something like this. But...But to need Dwarves specifically..."

"I think they should be buried." A Dwarf weakly pointed to the bodies. "It's not right to leave them here."

"We can give them a stone cairn for a burial site," Anton said. "I doubt we'll be coming back here anytime soon. Everyone that's not helping move the bodies outside, comb through everything and see if we can find any clues as to what happened here."

The Dwarves split into two even groups and began their tasks. Those collecting the bone muttered apologies as they had no choice but to bundle the bones in the bedsheets. Only one a time could be moved, and very carefully at that. They held underneath as they did not trust the ancient fabric to support much weight.

The other half quickly rummaged through the few draws and footlockers. Annoyingly there was nothing to find. No last note or any hint as to what happened in this place.

"Would there be any secret caches in a place like this?" Anton asked Umikgruid. "Even a place where Dwarves could hide sweets. They might have hidden something there."

"Nothing." A nearby Dwarf said. "There usually is but we can't see anything."

"He's right." Umikgruid softly sighed. "But keep looking. Think of every possible hiding spot and check it again. I don't want anything left to chance."

When the last skeleton was removed the Dwarves found something. It was only the barest of clues, a memo detailing the arrival of some important United Empire dignitary. That was everything they could find.

"Do you think it's related?" The Dwarf who found the tattered note asked.

"Honestly? I have no idea. It might be, then again it could have happened a few seasons before this happened." Anton looked over the barracks. "No name, so there's nothing to go off. We need to find a complete set of United Empire records to determine what happened."

"And they no longer exist," Umikgruid said softly. "I just hope their spirits can rest a little easier now. At least they're not stuck in this awful place."

Anton quickly left with the other dwarves and set to work recovering the ballistas. The ballistas sat on mounts and once removed were just short enough to slide out of the tunnel. Anton restored the ballistas enough so they would survive the journey. The restoration took considerable mana, even when speaking aloud, and he did not wish to return to this place anytime soon.

Outside the Dwarves had finished placing the bones at the far end of the rectangle. Loose stones had been arranged to form a crude cairn, Rasha carried a giant stone, large enough for her to pant under the strain, to place on top. With a loud thud, the stone settled on the others and formed the dead Dwarves tomb.

Cetina stood with the Chiroks, throwing them an angry glare. The beasts did not appear to mind but they were taking conscious effort to avoid her eye.

"They tried to get some of the bones," Cetina said softly. "I think they wanted to chew on them."

"Is that why they're trying to look innocent?"

The Chirok’s took one look at Anton, realized they were in trouble and pretended to doze.

"So long as they didn't, then it's fine."

Anton saw the first ballista emerge from the tunnel. It was quite a sight to behold.

"That's...Very big," Cetina muttered.

Behind, the Dwarves asked Rasha to place a piece of cloth, tied to a piece of wood, at the very top to be nestled by stones. A simple marker for the grave.

“Should we be attacked by Dragons or Trolls, even Orcs or Minotaurs-”

Rasha’s ears pricked up as she slowly walked towards them.

“I can’t believe you know Orcs,” Cetina said softly. The remaining ballistae quickly filled the tunnel and spilled out onto the rectangular depression.

“Orcs?” Rasha folded her arms, brushing away the few snowflakes landing on her arms. “I saw a few of them in Seocuria. Big, green and strong. But not as strong as me.”

“Orcs are alright.” One of the warrior Dwarves shrugged. “A bit slow, but nice. So long as you don’t get on their bad side.”

The Orcs from the Red Spines appeared to be skilled ambush fighters. The rest…Seem like little more than a screaming horde. At least they were in Qaiviel.

“The bolts?” Anton asked.

“We’ll take them as well,” Umikgruid said. “Good practice for our carpenters to make more.”

“Well…I’ll leave you to it.” Anton raised his hand. “But we’re done here.”

“Do we seal the door?” The last Dwarf asked as he emerged into the light.

“Seal it tight,” Umikgruid ordered. “One day we’ll find out what happened to those poor Dwarves. But not this day.”

The stone door rolled back into its slot. The seam flashed bright once then fell completely dead. Anton could not help but shake the feeling that these dead Dwarves had wider implications, he just had no idea what it could possibly be.

Volume 05 - Chapter 25 - Feudal Land

Dwarves swarmed around the ballistas as they emerged from the portal. Their stubby hands ran along the wood frame and rotten ropes, muttering to themselves in hushed whispers. Every so often one would speak louder, the others would agree, much to the first’s embarrassment.

"It's like children discovering sweets for the first time." Anton said. "Perhaps children with a new toy."

“That is a harsh way to put it.” Umikgruid chuckled. “But it is true. These are old, definitely, but they’ve been made very well. Very well. Especially after you healed them.”

Anton smiled. “An odd way to put it. Where do you think these should be put? Obviously I don’t think they’re going to work well underground...Well, actually, now that I think about it-”

“Where are you going to run when a giant bolt is flying at you inside a tunnel?” Umikgruid pointed to the building site of the Sovereign Palace. “But I think that’s the best place to put them. Somewhere high-”

“How high is that thing supposed to get, exactly?” Anton asked.

Before Umikgruid could reply Anton caught something moving through the busy crows. Kal, wearing a thick cloak, walked towards him.

“Did you find all of these inside that Dwarven outpost?” Kal asked as she came to his side. She kissed his cheek and wrapped his arm around hers. “Was it actually a fortress?”

“An outpost…” Anton frowned softly. “But not everything we found in there was good.”

Kal nodded once. “Tell me later. Now, where are these things going?”

“On top of the Sovereign Palace.” Umikgruid continued. “From there they will have a great vantage point, able to hit anything attacking from above and for quite some distance on the ground.”

“The sky?” Rasha looked up. She shielded her eyes from the falling snow with her hand. “I haven’t seen anything up there but birds.”

“I’ve never seen anything but birds and bats at night.” Kal looked up as well. “Are you saying there is something up there?”

Umikgruid smiled devilishly. “Of course! There are many beasts that soar through the sky.”

Anton saw a nearby Dwarf roll his eyes at Umikgruid’s words. Anton was still not going to dismiss his words. After all, if his visions had been dismissed as the ravings of a lunatic they wouldn’t have a new hold and a future away from oppression. The other Dwarf had a similar thought and returned to work.

“For one, your tamed Chiroks.” Umikgruid pointed to the sky. “Do you think those giant wolves swim? Of course no. They fly. They could be flying over us right now and you wouldn’t know.”

“If they fly above the clouds we wouldn’t know until they’re right on top of us.” Anton said. “We did see Griffons in Graterious, and Luna’s dead mother. But what about something bigger. Much bigger. Like a Dragon?”

“It’s in your name.” Cetina folded her arms. She shook lightly and shrugged off the snow accumulating on her shoulders. “Is that what happened to your island in the Dwarven Isles? Your clan hunted too many Dragons and they attacked it?”

“I…” Umikgruid gently rubbed his impressive beard. “I don’t know. I think we might have. But I’ve never heard anything like that from our elders. It might have been true, but...How would Dwarves hunt…”

Umikgruid nodded towards the large Ballista’s, answering his own question.

“I would like to see one.” Anton brushed a hand against his tail. “A real Dragon. Not whatever is hanging above that pit. I wonder if they’re intelligent enough to talk? Mezot might have permission to see them. She is a Master of the Royal Academy.”

Cetina smiled. “Hopefully they don’t think she wants to experiment with them. Testing her Ice and Water Magic on them.”

“I imagine she’ll be nothing more than a cinder.” Anton shook his head. “But did you want something special, Kal? I thought you were still at home with Verona?”

“She’s still there.” Kal smiled. “Right now she’s playing with Luna...So I had some time free. I was actually thinking about Qaiviel, I saw Dana riding past, nothing bad’s happening, but the horses reminded me of your land.”

“Yes…I haven’t done much with it, have I?”

“Nothing, actually.” Kal said. “We’ve been focusing on other things. These weapons, for one.” Kal nodded to the Ballista’s. “They look very impressive.”

“We’ve got some designs for the bolts.” Umikgruid said. “Some better ones. But...We still need more things from The Dwarven Isles.”

“Just give me the list first and then I’ll approve it.” Anton took a deep breath. “How much more do you think we can buy before the other Clans start to get suspicious?”

“If I’m honest, I think they already know something is happening.” Umikgruid watched as the Dwarves began to push the Ballista’s away. “They did try and find out that time you were there. Nothing since then but it’s only a matter of time. Right now I’m sure they’re enjoying the money they’re getting.”

Umikgruid snapped his stubby fingers. “That’s another thing. We’ve almost got Balefire Mine working. I know you probably wanted the silver mine up and running as soon as possible, but we needed to get our own hold sorted first.”

“We’ve still got quite a bit of money.” Anton said. “How much longer before we can start to see some silver bars come out of there?”

“Couple of days at most. I can’t guarantee the amount but the quality will be extremely high.”

“And that door?”

Umikgruid frowned. “We’ve run into a bit of trouble with it. Honestly...It’s a real pain. Whomever built it designed it to never be opened. We keep discovering more locks and traps woven into the structure, not even the Blood Hammer vault had this many. Some even thought about digging around it but the stone there is reinforced with magic from the door.”

Umikgruid shook his head. “We’d have to go at least half a mile to get around it.”

“How much Earth Mana is this thing using?”

“Not much.” Umikgruid smirked. “Dwarven technology. But the easiest way is to just go through the door. We are making progress, it’s just slow and difficult.”

“Keep me appraised of everything that’s happening. And definitely don’t open it until we’re all there.”

“Of course.” Umikgruid motioned for Anton to lean down. “That project of yours is coming along far better. Most of the components have been successfully replicated. We’re experimenting with these so-called ‘bullets’, given the vague designs you could give us, but it is going extremely well. Considering it’s an artefact of a style I have never seen before.”

“Again, keep me informed of all progress.” Anton rose up. “But do not let just anyone into that room. They are going to be vital to Atros’s survival and strength in the wider world. Especially when…” Anton looked at Kal and Rasha. “People come looking for their slaves.”

“Seocuria does have large armies.” Kal said. Rasha glumly agreed.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Umikgruid nodded towards the disappearing Ballista’s. “If they aren’t constantly supervised they’ll probably start disassembling them or even start pushing them towards the mountain. Who knows?”

Maybe they are just like children.

Umikgruid gave a final wave and raced after the disappearing Dwarves. Anton heard a few shouts but the Dwarves followed Umikgruid’s orders all the same. They began to travel towards the north, to where the foundations of the Sovereign Palace were starting to rise above the first story of homes and buildings.

“I don’t think we had anything else planned for today.” Anton shrugged. “So I suppose that it’s a good idea to at least have a look at this place.”

“The nearest portal is in The Red Spines.” Kal looked to the west. “But it’s still a long ride, through the snow and Qaiviel. We don’t know much about the south, like how many bandits and raiders are there.”

“I have a better idea.” Anton nodded towards the sky.

“Really?” Cetina raised a brow.

“It’s time to let the Chiroks stretch their wings a little.”

---[]---

Anton arrived at the Red Spines through the portal. The air was far drier than Atros, with a hint of iron permeating every breath, but it was considerably warmer. Like a small fire constantly burned in the corner. However it could have been the room he currently stood in; a rarely used and somewhat cluttered storage room, the white light from the portal was the only source of light. At one side Anton saw a red stone wall. He had not seen where the Orcs had placed the portal after they left, only that it was functioning on their end.

"How high are we? And what are they going to say when I try and bring a harnessed Chirok through? Probably think I'm crazier than a human waltzing around Orc territory."

Anton carefully stepped around the rough piles of disused mining and building equipment, why the Orcs had not destroyed or recycled them he did not know. The door was unlocked and unbarred. He gently pushed it open, just a crack to see through. He was very high, not quite the top of the Orc settlement but not far off. No matter where he looked he saw the Orcs of the Red Spines living their lives, carrying building materials and equipment ever higher up the sheer cliff face of the Red Spines, far down below were the hunters and butchers, normal Orcs brought in freshly killed game while the Thralls helped them to properly butcher the animal with their more delicate fingers and movements.

But is it natural or the result of someone meddling with the Orcs? Maybe the Orcs ancestors did this to aid them. You'd think they'd have made a note of it somewhere...Haven’t seen many libraries. And if it’s oral traditions then it would be very easy to lose or corrupt.

Anton pushed the door open. The old wood creaked, eliciting a startled noise from a nearby Orc. The large green humanoid stepped back, levelled his spear at the door as Anton pushed it fully open. For a moment his thick, black brows furrowed. It softened when he realized who it was.

“Oh. Right, it’s you.” He lowered the spear. “The human. How…Right. What do you want? I mean, how can I help you?”

“Hello.” Anton smiled and stepped into the light. He heard noises from Orcs from the levels above and below. He drew immense attention, if for nothing more than his different coloured skin. “Actually, I wanted to bring a mount through. I need to get to Hardheim very quickly.”

“Sure…” The Orc shrugged. “I guess. I’ve been told to help you however I can.” The Orc yawned, covering his under bite jaw with his large hand. “And if I don’t have to do anything then that’s great.”

“Great. I need to move the portal out here, since it’s kind of big.”

“We’re pretty high up.” The Orc pointed over the edge. Anton was a little concerned there were no railings this high up in the city. “Do you want to go down first? It might be easier than bringing a horse down these steps.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Anton returned to the room and retrieved the portal. The Orc did not help, instead he moved back to the side of the storage room and rested against it. By the time Anton returned with the stones he had almost dozed off.

Anton held the stones in a bag but needed a bigger area to safely bring the Chiroks through. The previous times the large beasts had jumped and pranced about after coming through, along with a slight whimper as they pawed at their heads, and there was every chance they would fall down.

“Actually, heading down might be best.” Anton said. “Once I’m done I’ll need you to bring them back up.”

The Orc nearly rolled his eyes after he looked down. It was a fair distance, but according to his own words he wasn’t doing anything else other than guarding the old storage room.

“Alright.” The Orc pulled himself off the wall. “Let’s get going then.”

They began to walk down the wooden stairs. Anton felt rather nervous to be so high, even though he had little problem when riding the Chiroks. It must have been something to do with the lack of railings so high up. There were still railings, but they weren’t complete.

“Aren’t you afraid that someone will fall down?” Anton asked. He kept as close to the red stone wall as possible. “There’s no way an Orc could survive a fall like that?”

“Hmm? Oh.” The Orc nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of anyone falling to their deaths before.”

“Really?”

The Orc shrugged. “Never been a problem. Only for the smaller humans, like yourself, that ever has an issue.”

As the descent would be long, the wooden pathways twisted their way back and forth along the surface, Anton decided to strike up some kind of conversation, if only to make the journey pass faster.

“How is everything going in the Red Spines?” Anton asked. They passed a group of young Orcs bringing up building supplies, they muttered to themselves and looked intently at Anton, quite possibly the first human they’d seen and able to walk freely amongst their homes. “The winter doesn’t seem so bad here. No snow, but it is a lot colder than it was when I last came here.”

“Everything is fine, I suppose.” The Orc shrugged. “We have everything we need and can trade for what we can’t make with Qaiviel. Nothing has changed, for as long as I’ve lived.”

“Your entire city could have been destroyed after the civil war in Qaiviel.” Anton’s words elicited a confused look. “Harold and The Church of The Holy Father do not like Orcs, alongside a many other things.”

The Orc scoffed. “We have never been attacked. Our lands are safe from any threat.”

“What about twenty thousand knights?”

The Orc opened his mouth but did not reply. The Orcs had a good defensive position but they were nowhere near strong enough to fend off that many attackers. Their walls were made from wood and although they could pick off attackers travelling through the swamps and marshes it would not be enough against the full might of Qaiviel. Not to mention the Stitch Soldiers would simply just crash their way through any defences. Anton was glad they hadn’t encountered any more since Harold’s defeat. He shuddered remembering what that man, and his mother, had transformed into.

“And Lazgar? How are they settling in?”

“Good.” The Orc smiled. “There were a few of us, at first, didn’t want them here. Thought they might bring us into conflict with the Orc Clans to the north. We don’t have anything to do with them and we like it that way. Lazgar’s got a lot of clever ideas and we’re already seeing the benefits of it.”

He pointed to a large platform on the opposite side of the cliffs. Thralls, the first born Orcs, always destined to be eunuchs and very slim, worked on pieces of weapons and armour, worked on large swaths of old equipment, refurbishing armour and repairing damaged arrows with their delicate hands.

“They always helped but Lazgar suggested that we have them help with more things. They’re not bad…” The Orc sighed. “Just a shame that they’re all born like that.”

“No word about Lazgar wanting to return to the north?”

“Nothing.” The Orc grunted. “And for his sake, and his family they do not.”

Anton did not wish to push the subject further and decided to drop the conversation. Anton spent the rest of the journey asking about the city, simple things but it passed the time. As they reached the lower levels the warrior Orcs, those wearing a mixture of camouflage and light armour, surrounded them. Anton didn’t budge or back down, Orcs had no immunity to Fire or Lightning Magic. The Orc quickly explained what was happening and they quickly realised their mistake. Some even laughed as they returned to their previous duties.

“See?” The Orc laughed. “We’re not too bad.”

“I never thought you were.”

Anton spied some Orcs that he recognised at the rear of the city. One was Lazgar’s brother, who had grievously wounded during their flight from the north, training with the Red Spine Orcs. He was proving to be quite an obstacle. Four Orcs were required to bring him down.

“This is a good spot.” The Orc motioned to a large open area. “How big is the horse you're bringing through?”

“It’s not a horse.” Anton smiled as he began laying out the portal stones. “Something a lot more interesting.”

The Orc merely stepped back a few paces as the white portal flashed into being. Anton stepped back too as he waited for the Chiroks to come through. After a few moments the portal flashed and two Chiroks burst free. The large wolf creatures leapt towards Anton with their mouths wide open, a large wet tongue hanging out as they ran towards him. The Orc shouted in surprise as the Chiroks leapt onto Anton and began to furiously lick his face.

“I’ve missed you two, too.” Anton vigorously rubbed their large heads. “How’s that? Do you like that?”

“You’ve tamed Chiroks?” The Orc’s mouth hung agape. “H-How? Those creatures will attack anyone that tries to get close to them.”

“I helped their pups.” Anton had to forcefully push their head backs. The Chiroks understood that their playtime was over and back away slightly, still within easy petting distance. “After that they became a lot more friendly.”

Anton gave their snouts a small scratch. “Do you see them flying near the Red Spines?”

“During the summer.” The Orc pointed to the north. “I’m pretty sure they come here to find a mate. Well, the young ones do.”

“I see…” Anton looked around. Before the Orcs had regarded him with curiosity, now in a mixture of fear and respect. Every so often a group of Orcs would arrive with their weapons ready to strike, they were quickly stopped so they didn’t upset the large and seemingly tamed beasts. “We might need to head there and see if we can get some more.”

We need someone with Flhodier’s blessing to speak with them properly. We haven’t had any more Glyphs emerge lately. Is it really that rare? Even though we have thousands of new people we’ve got none...I’ll ask them for guidance once we’re done with Qaiviel.

“It’ll take too long before their pups are able to fly.”

“They have children as well?” The Orc shook his head. “This...This isn’t what I was expecting when they told me to guard that room. I thought it would be boring and easy.”

“It is easy.” Anton moved to the male Chirok and checked the harness. “All you need to do is return the stones when I’m done. It’s that simple.”

When Anton was satisfied the straps and harnesses were strong enough he tapped the side of the Chirok and it laid down.

“Are there any other creatures that live nearby?” Anton asked. “Not ones that live in the Wood Elf forest. We can’t go there without starting a war.”

“You’ve angered the Wood Elven Goddess?”

“So long as we don’t trespass on her lands there won’t be a problem.” Anton smiled. “Thankfully there are all those stone markers…”

The Ancient Listeners. Why did they have stone markers? It’s...No. That would be silly. Anyone can have a giant stone rammed into the ground.

“Is there anything else like these things?” Anton gently stroked the males neck.

“The hunters would have a better idea.” The Orc looked around. He found a nearby Orc, dressed in mud and foliage camouflage and equipped with many large javelins on his back. “Yes! You. Come here for a bit. The strange human wants to know something.”

I’m...To these Orcs I’m probably the strangest thing that’s ever happened to them. And...And the same could be said for every city and every village that we pass through.

The Orc hunter looked very nervous as he approached them. His hand tried to reach for the javelins, his massive muscles rippling with tension and fear, but he held himself together. It helped that the Chiroks looked like big, happy dogs right now, not whatever state they found them in the wild.

“What’s the problem?” The Orc kept the Chirok’s in his sight.

“The Human wants to know what sort of creatures live around here.” The Orc clicked his tongue. It too was large and sounded extremely loud. “So he can tame them, like these two.”

“I’d love to know how you did it.” The hunter Orc scratched his head. “But there are Chiroks, quite a few, who make their nests in the upper cliffs and mountains. It’ll be difficult to get there. And I’m sure they wouldn’t like intruders into their nests and mating areas. But things for things that might be tameable, there are the Giradaud and the Bleopletu. Giradaud are these giant goats, essentially. They have three horns, two in curls and one pointing straight out.”

“I think I know how they fight.”

“Yes. I’ve heard of Orcs taming some before but not recently.” The Orc Hunter shrugged. “I don’t really see why you would. The other is a smaller type of Griffon. They’re about thee same size as a large dog, but dogs don’t have a beak for ripping through flesh.”

“Indeed they don’t.” Anton nodded slowly. “Do they come to breed here as well?”

“I think so. They and the Chiroks tend not to get along but they stay out of each others way. Bleopletu tend to hunt fish and smaller animals and Chiroks...I think you know how much they need.”

“They are big eaters.” Anton scratched the neck of his mount. “I think we’ll come back and see what we can do. Maybe there’s a way to get some without having to kill their parents and raise their young.”

“That is the easiest way.” The Orc Hunter looked a little confused. “Isn’t that what you did to get them?”

Right. My ethics from Earth are entirely different to this worlds. Hell, most people on Earth squirm at the sight of blood, let alone gutting a dead animal. I won’t deny that collecting the babies from their slain parents isn’t a good feeling.

“Not exactly.” Anton said softly. Neither really understood what he meant. “We’ll be off now. Once we’re in the sky you can put the portal stones back up there. We won’t be coming back for a while and we don’t want someone falling in by accident.”

“Won’t you need this wherever you’re going?” The Orc backed away, lightly tapping the Hunter’s arm to do the same.

“We’ve got our own methods.” Anton smiled. “If you are in need of something don’t hesitate for someone to step through or just toss a letter through. If it disappears then we’ve got it.”

The Orcs continued to back away. The Chiroks took that as the signal to start. They stretched out their large bat wings, took a running start and launched themselves into the air. With a few beats the beasts were high into the air and soaring through the sky. The Orcs shouted at the two Chiroks flew over the short wooden wall and into the marshlands beyond. Anton could feel that his mount wanted to fly higher but the tall and thin mountains, shaped like spines, prevented them from escaping with ease. He did his best to direct the two along the pathway before emerging into Qaiviel.

Snow buffeted him the moment they left the safety of the spinney mountains. Anton gripped the reigns hard as the Chiroks grunted and flapped their wings to fly even higher. Bat wings were not ideal in cold weather, they lacked a layer of insulating feathers but he knew they wouldn’t continue to fly if they couldn’t. They were tame but not obedient to the level of self-destruction.

“What the hell’s going on?!” Anton shouted over the roaring snow.

He looked back towards the Red Spines. Something was stopping the snow and the cold from reaching the mountains. About twenty meters away from the surface the snow simply disappeared, not melted, forming a neat cone around the mountains.

“I wonder if this is the United Empire’s doing?” Anton urged the Chirok’s forward. “Seems to be a lot of things are their fault...I say their fault, but they didn’t make the Beast-kin.”

Both Chiroks ignored his rambling words and continued flying west. The buffeting snow cleared almost immediately and became a gentle falling white rain. Anton looked to the south, to the last city before the Wood Elf border, and found the snows were nowhere near as bad. Everything was covered in a smattering of white but the forests were not being thrown about.

“So...It just pushes the snow away?” Anton slowly nodded. “Also keeping people away...That’s not a bad idea. I wonder if the people of Qaiviel know that the Red Spines are warm during winter? Some stupid lord might want it as their winter retreat. Better not say anything.”

The Chiroks continued to fly east, over a land turned completely white by an unending tide of falling snow. Once verdant and rolling green fields of grass now lay still and abandoned, village and hamlets dotted the white landscape with their tiny trails of smoke from fireplaces and their dull brown walls, untouched by the snow thanks to the roves, to break up the monotony.

“Now...I have a map.” Anton lent forward to reduce the amount of wind. “But it’s really hard to tell what passes for a landmark here.”

Anton kept the map close to the Chiroks back.

“Markings are pointless.” Anton clicked his tongue. “But it’s essentially due west of the Red Spines. So as long as we keep heading in that direction we should find it. It has a small dock, so that’s a start.”

Anton observed the lands of Qaiviel in silence. Almost nothing moved in the white expanse. As he looked to the south he swore he could see something moving in the sky over the Wood Elves forests. Anton enhanced his vision and his heart stopped.

It was a Dragon, there was no other thing it could possibly be. Worse it was three Dragons flying in a tight formations. They looked ancient, their giant wings beat slowly and yet propelled them up by a dozen meters. Their scales were old, covered in pieces of moss and small grasses which fell off like light rain. A golden eye focused forward until it snapped towards Anton. Its iris constricted to a point.

Anton gripped the reigns hard, the Chiroks had yet to notice they were being watched, and readied to pull hard away. The Dragon smiled, at least that’s what Anton thought his large mouth was curling up into, and began to turn away. The other two did not look but followed the Dragon towards the south. Anton began to breathe easy once again.

“Let’s not fly so close to the forests again.” Anton held the Chirok’s neck. It felt his nervousness and fear. It looked back to him with worried eyes. “It’s alright. Let’s just get going.”

Anton looked up but could not see anything. He had to remember that creatures could attack him from above, even when he was on the ground. How he would do that during a battle or travelling the lands he did not know. Regardless, he kept his eyes towards the south as they hurtled towards the west. He did not feel safe even as he began to smell the salty sea.

Hardheim finally came into view. Anton checked the map once again and it was the town he was after. He checked as far as he could see, even with his enhanced vision and saw nothing else that matched the detailed section of the map. Hardheim was small, perhaps a thousand or so people, but Anton did not expect to be given control of a major city. Nor did he want the responsibility or distraction. The Chiroks performed a lazy circle over the town and gave Anton more time to judge it properly. The town itself sat on a raised plateau, the edge perhaps a hundred meters from the short outer wooden walls, with empty croplands filling the space between. The walls extended to the shore and many meters beyond. Between either side lay an extensive fishery. Small boats lay on the shore, away from the cold and calm sea. No ice had formed but it was probably only a few degrees away. The town itself had the traditional chaotic medieval layout. Nearly all had a faint trail of smoke with only one with a larger trail. It appeared to be the local smithy but Anton would know more once they landed.

Anton directed the Chirok to take a final pass before landing far outside of town. As he came down he noticed one of the buildings was much larger than the others. A Church lay in the centre of the town, with the emblem of The Holy Father plastered high above the city on its bell-tower.

“Leo did say that it once belonged to one of the Church’s loyalists. I wonder how fanatical the people really are? News of what happened in Clausonne must have surely spread.”

The Chirok landed with its usual grace, folded its wings close to its body and cocked its head back to Anton. Anton dismounted and prepared a flat area for the portal. As the portal flashed white he looked to Hardheim. No one had emerged, no obvious sign of panic from a beast circling over their city landing nearby.

Perhaps it’s a peaceful city that’s never known war? Bandits and monsters should still be a threat…Unless there was some kind of Church Militia? Speculation is useless at this time.

Verona, Kal, Cetina, Calo and Sheso, alongside a few human soldiers, hand-picked by Jeff for their strength and loyalty, stepped out of the portal.

I do normally travel with a lot of women, don’t I? Maybe a few men travelling with me might make think I’m not a wierdo. Although it’s definitely going to make our nights a bit more difficult.

“This seems like a nice place.” Verona kissed Anton’s cheek. “I’m remembering what Rasha said. This probably would have been a place where we’d settle down.”

“You’d probably have taken a few of the locals.” Kal chuckled beneath her mask. “Seducing a priestess and making her break her vows, someone from the local guard and luring them away from their duties…Oh, and definitely someone that works at the tavern.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. The tavern girl would definitely be Verona’s work, just so she could eat whenever she wants.” Anton rubbed his beard. Kal lightly punched his arm. “But then I wouldn’t have you, now would I?”

“No…” Kal held his hand tight. “But this is a place where the people will kill me if they discover the truth.”

“And that means you.” Anton said to the human soldiers. “Not a word about Kal’s mask or where we come from. If they ask, Kal has suffered grievous wounds from a fire. And absolutely no word about the Beast-kin. Understood?”

The soldiers nodded. They already understood, Anton just wanted to reinforce how serious the matter was.

“We’ll send you two back now.” Anton scratched the Chirok’s neck. “Don’t want someone to try and hunt you for a big trophy. Someone trying to impress women at the tavern with a giant dead wolf’s head. Those Orcs were already looking at you like that.”

The Chirok grumbled and walked to the portal. It flashed through, Cetina quickly collected the stones and returned to the group.

“Well, let’s go then.”

As they trudged through the ankle deep snow Anton grew more and more concerned that no one was appearing to watch them. The city had walls, so they were prepared for some level of attack but so far there was no movement whatsoever. Only when they were but a hundred meters away to the open gate did he see movement. A Qaiviel soldier, wearing mostly white with a sash and trimmings of green, stood in the gate itself. His clothes were thick wool and fur, perfect for keeping warm in the cold winter, though beneath his thick beard and moustache he still looked unbelievably cold. Behind him a small metal brazier flickered with light, to the side rested a bundle of snow covered small logs, one with a much lighter amount of snow.

The guard waited until they were much closer before speaking. “Who is travelling in the winter?”

You didn’t see the Chirok land just out there? They are pretty silent…What a terrible first impression of my future guards. Peaceful lands breed ‘soft’ people. Though isn’t that what everyone’s fighting for? The right to be safe?

“Good day to you.” Anton tried his best to sound jovial without it being too forced. The guard seemed not to care either way. “I am Anton. I have been given control of Hardheim by King Leo as reward for my services to him personally.”

The guard looked a little dubious but still straightened his back, just in case Anton was the man he claimed to be.

“I am here to lead this city to greater prosperity.” Anton did not like the pretensions in his words but continued on regardless. “I heard this town was under the control of someone loyal to The Church of The Holy Father and an ally of King Harold. Is that correct?”

“It is.” The guard folded his arms. “Or, at least it was. Some yellow Knights came through and killed him and everyone that tried to stop him.”

“How many died?” Verona asked softly. As a woman, and as she had not spoken so far, she could appear to be more empathetic than Anton without his own image taking a hit.

“About ten. Not many people ‘round here believe in that stuff. Those that do…” He nodded to the Church. “They barricaded themselves in there and prayed for salvation.” He shrugged and leant against the wall. “Didn’t do much for them when they started to tear it all down.”

“I hope that is going to be the last bloodshed this town sees for some time.” Anton said. “With them dead, who is currently in charge? I will need to speak with them immediately.”

“Mayor Patrice. His house is next to the Church. The one with the red roof. You’ll find it really easily.”

I guess you can’t leave your post, since it seems like you’re the only guard here. I know you could still close the gate but if someone wanted to attack there’s only one of you to stop them. Having so few might actually encourage them to attack.

“Thanks.” Anton smiled again. “Keep warm.”

Anton motioned for them to enter the town. The guard did not stop nor search them and moved closer to his small flaming brazier. Now he paid more attention along the road, he’d already been surprised once today and didn’t want another.

The streets of Hardheim had a surprising level of human activity given the cold weather though the few shuffling through the streets held the thick cloaks close to their body. None of the stalls were open, there was no need for anyone to endure such weather on the off chance a buyer approached. Anton saw a couple exit a building with a large basket filled with vegetables and dried fish. Trade had not completely stopped, only slowed for the winter.

His attention fell upon the Church at the centre of Hardheim. It stood somewhat taller than the other buildings but looked less gaudy and ornate than the others he had seen. However, the doors were broken inwards and heavily charred, so too were the large glass windows. Anton took a step back and saw multiple holes in the roof. He hoped that there wasn’t anyone taking refuge inside the Church, they would be suffering from frostbite at the very least.

“Are we going to tear that down?” Verona nudged his side. “I don’t think you’re the sort of person that wants people worshipping them.”

“Maybe a storage area?” Kal offered. “This town looks like it gets lots of fish. After drying and salting they’re easy to transport.”

“We’ll have all the symbols removed.” Anton began. “Then have it turned into a shelter for the poor and homeless, so long as they are willing to work. We will help the people but only if they’re willing to help themselves.”

“Doing that would make you very popular.” Cetina said. “It’ll be hard for anyone to complain as well. Unless they just want to beg for money for the rest of their life...Doesn’t sound like it’s a fulfilling life.”

Anton softly sighed. “I’m sure that’s what these places were originally intended for, and I’m sure that many still did, but corruption comes with power and wealth. Gold corrupts everything in the end.”

“Hopefully not us.” Verona mumbled softly. “One we’re going to have even more money than them. It’ll be hard not to just...You know.”

Anton kissed Verona’s hand.

“There it is.” Kal pointed to a building with a red roof. The building did indeed have a red roof and was somewhat larger than the others but not massively so. Anton hoped the man within would be more reasonable than many of the Qaiviel nobility he had met.

Most I’ve met have been part of the Knight Orders. I haven’t had much to do with the city nobility…Outside of Duchess Belinda.

Anton looked down the alleyways, where the snow had piled up higher than the main streets. Thankfully he could not see anyone but it was only one of many alleyways. Any beggars or homeless could be forced to the backstreets. Out of sight, out of mind.

Cetina knocked loudly on the door of the red roofed house.

Sheso pulled her hood to one side, allowing her long ear to return to normal. “There’s a lot of movement inside. Heavy boots…And something heavy just touched the wall.”

“A mace.” Kal said. “Quite a large one too. Large spikes, judging by the way it rolled about.”

Anton focused and could just make out something moving inside the house. He could not hear as clearly as a Feline Beast-kin or a Dark Elf but he wasn’t completely useless.

“I can’t hear anything.” Verona shrugged. “But I have my magic if something goes wrong.”

Anton turned to the human soldiers as the locks began to click. “Don’t say anything about magic either. Especially healing.”

Again, the soldiers already understood.

The door slowly creaked open then stopped abruptly. A single eye peered over a thick metal chain lock.

“Who are you?” A voice softly asked. Before Anton could respond he heard a light thump behind the centre of the door on the floor. He presumed the man had just placed the mace’s head onto the ground.

Anton regaled who he was and that ownership of the town had given to him by King Leo. The man behind the door was obviously dubious, until he produced the sealed piece of paper. The eye widened.

“One moment.”

He closed the door and the metal chain fell free. The man behind the door was middle-aged, with short greyed hair and a well-trimmed beard.

“Can I see that?”

Anton had the scroll taken from his hand by Cetina who passed it to him. The man almost asked why she had but decided against it. He produced an incredibly thin blade, a fish gutting blade and cut the thick seal. He quickly read the contents, slowly nodding, before handing it back to Cetina.

“Well…You’d better come in then. No point in standing out in the snow.” The man stepped back and ushered them in. “My name is Patrice, currently the Mayor of Hardheim. Not that I was elected, I was the highest ranking official after the Yellow Strikers were finished with the priest and his followers. At least…Doesn’t matter. I had already received a letter that you would be arriving…Just not when.”

Anton stomped his boots outside to remove the dirt and snow. He winced slightly as the claws poked into the underside of his dragonoid feet. The others copied as they stepped inside.

“I didn’t expect you to arrive during the winter. Nothing is happening while the snows continue to fall.”

“I can appreciate that.” Anton felt a warmth wash over him as they closed the door. The iron mace lay in the corner, thankfully with no blood. “It’s not like you can fish or till the fields.”

“True…” Patrice smiled. “Please, come in. I have a fire going in my sitting room.”

Patrice led them in deeper into his home. It was a simple affair, simple but very nice. Anton began to hear more voices alongside the crackling of flame. They grew silent as they approached. Inside the large room he saw five people; a woman that looked to be his wife, three young boys and a boy in his early teens.

“Who are they?” The woman asked.

“This is Anton, Duke Anton. The new ruler of Hardheim.”

“Oh…”

“Hello.” Anton smiled and bowed his head. “I have no intention of disrupting the goings on of the city too much. I want to improve it and see that Hardheim becomes a great town.”

“We aren’t a particularly large or prosperous town.” The woman looked in the direction of the ruined Church. “But now we aren’t having to pay tithes.”

“Is that standard throughout Qaiviel?” Anton asked.

“Not particularly.” The woman straightened her thick clothes. “But the King’s authority rarely extends this far.”

“Even with the Knight Orders nearby?”

The teenager boy scoffed. “They don’t care about us. They spend most of their time training. And coming here to drink and eat everything they can…”

“That won’t be happening from now on.” Anton said. “If they do I’ll have their heads sent to Leo’s throne.”

All fell went silent at his words, especially Patrice. While his family probably didn’t know about Anton’s involvement Patrice had certainly heard rumours. His current companions would undoubtedly match the description of those involved with the death of King Harold.

“Really?” One of the young boys asked. He only turned his head away from the fire, not willing to move his hands from the warming flame.

“Absolutely. King Leo owes me a few favours…” Anton turned to Patrice. “I take it that you have some ideas on how to improve the city? What areas are lacking and could use help?”

“This…” Patrice trailed off.

“Is rather unorthodox and sudden. Certainly.” Anton smiled. “But this is the situation we find ourselves in. Am I right in assuming that you’ve been in command of Hardheim since the civil war?”

“I have…” Patrice frowned slightly. “I believe that this could be better discussed in my study. I do not have any of my records in here, after all.”

Anton followed Patrice, along with Verona, Kal and Cetina. Calo and Sheso knew it would be too crowded with them and they were more than capable of taking care of themselves. They remained in the sitting room, the twins squeezed in between the young boys to reach the fire. Their dark skin and brown eyes drew no end of awed and hushed whispers from the young boys and even the teenager. All were immediately smitten by the warrior Dark Elves, though they may have thought they were Seocurians.

Patrice led them to his actual study, a room overflowing with papers and roughly bound books. A small inkwell sat on his desk along with partially complete documents.

“It’s not as bad as it seems.” Patrice quickly took his seat. “It just looks very bad. Most of this is documentation from my father. I haven’t had time to get rid of it. From time to time one of the minor nobility wants a copy of something…Doesn’t matter.”

Anton took the only other free seat. There were another two but piles of paper had swallowed them whole.

Patrice clasped his hands tight on the table. “I do not believe that you are someone that wishes to have me waffle on…”

Anton raised his hand. “I do not wish to interfere with how the town is being run, unless there are glaring issues. I do presume that the main exports of the city are grains and fish?”

“They are.”

“What sort of demand do your goods have throughout the country?”

“Umm…Normal? Our fish are simple…And so is our grain.”

“But you cannot keep up with the demand?”

“No. Our previous…Ruler did not consider it a priority.”

“Well I do.” Anton began to search through his clothes for one of his hidden pouches. “I also understand that one cannot make money without investing it, though I’m sure that there are many that would try and disagree with me.”

Anton pulled out a purse of gold coins. “I think this should be more than sufficient to fund any upgrades and ventures that need to be undertaken.”

Patrice took the purse with a measure of caution and dubiousness. When he saw what lay inside his eyes all but bulged from his skull. Anton almost smiled, nearly everyone had the same reaction.

Then again, it’s not every day you’re just handed the equivalent of millions of dollars.

“This…”

“I believe that I can trust you.” Anton leant back into the chair. “And I don’t think you have to be told what will happen to you if you decide to flee with that money.”

Patrice grew very flustered. “I would never do something like that.”

“It may be very tempting. But I want you to use this to buy whatever materials and people you need. I think it would be best to play to your strengths, fish and grain, rather than trying more exotic ventures, but if someone has a reasonable idea then you should go for it.”

“Why-Why are you just giving away this much money? To me? To this little town?”

Anton thought hard. Though he had just met Patrice but a few minutes ago he did not think he should lie to him. At least what he would consider to be a lie.

“Because I want this place to be strong and prosperous. I was given this land under the provision that I do so, that the levies and soldiers that I might raise here are plentiful and strong. And I cannot do that anytime soon without spending some gold.” Anton smiled. “If you have any reservations about spending that gold, know that it came from the vaults of The Church of The Holy Father. It is all, essentially, hoarded and stolen wealth. Gold has no use other than when it is spent. And…I can make even more gold this way too.”

“I see…” Patrice began searching through the papers. “Some of the fishermen have been asking about the poor boats. One was even talking about a different type of netting and catching method…”

“So long as they don’t overharvest the fish and deplete the local stock.” Anton said. “Try keeping some of the larger fish alive and in pens. As breeders, and release their spawn. That way you won’t ever run out of the smaller fish.”

Patrice blinked once. “I…I have heard of some fisheries north of here running out of fish. They stopped fishing for several seasons and they came back.”

“Not if you get them all.” Anton smiled. “Think of it as a small morsel of wisdom that I wish to impart. A bit of knowledge from my home…homeland.”

“Well, I will do what I can.” Patrice continued to search through the papers. “If it can be worded properly then I don’t think there will be a problem. A few farmers want new ploughs and other tools. You don’t have any ideas for that, do you?”

Anton didn’t think the man was being snide so answered as truthfully as he could.

“Honestly, no. Except that for fruit baring trees that not every fruit should be saved. The tree has limited time and energy and shouldn’t put it into fruit that simply isn’t going to grow well. What that might be, I have no idea.”

“I see.” Patrice scribbled down his words. Whether or not they would be followed was another thing entirely. “Is there anything else?”

“The Church.” Anton said. Patrice tensed slightly. “I don’t want it torn down. How many homeless people are there in Hardheim?”

“About fifty?” Patrice shrugged lightly as he leant back into his chair. “They tend to drift from place to place. Some end up as bandits or brigands, but we haven’t had any problems with that.”

“You only had one guard at the entrance.” Cetina folded her arms. “He doesn’t seem like a bad person but even I could overpower him. Even without a blade. You don’t seem very prepared for anything for a major assault.”

“Hardheim has never come under any serious attack.” Patrice replied calmly. “Never. Not in my lifetime and never in the lifetime of my father and his. I…” He raised his hand. “I understand what you’re saying, but these lands are very safe.”

“I don’t know if any lands are going to be safe very soon.” Anton said softly. “In about another two winters, I believe that everyone on this continent will be longing for these calm days. Even those affected by the Civil War.”

Patrice frowned. “I do not know of what you’re...Is there some attack coming? Does King Leo know about this?”

“He does, in a sense.” Anton shrugged. “If he believes me is another matter entirely. But I do want this town to survive. And you won’t be able to do that if you only have a dozen guards at best.”

Patrice slowly nodded. “I will do what I can. The few that we have...Most of their equipment is old, well maintained but very old. I’m sure that we could get some of the third or fourth born sons to join. They don’t have much chance to inherit their families wealth or position, so...I’ll see what I can do.”

“Excellent.” Anton smiled. “It might not sound like much but a few dozen extra spears could mean all the difference between life and death.”

“Since I have never been in a fight myself I will have to take your word for it.”

Anton clapped his hands. “Though it has been only a short time we must depart.”

“Already?” Patrice looked towards the door. “But it’s the middle of winter? And you’ve only just arrived.”

“We’ll be fine.” Anton summoned a small Fire Bomb. “We can take care of warmth ourselves.”

“But I’m sure we can easily house our new Duke-”

Anton raised his hand. “The homeless? Where are they?”

Patrice blinked. “Most of the time they are in the north of the city. That’s where the tavern is, and the butchers and most of the fish works. They scavenge a bit of food from there…”

“Use some of that money for food and firewood.” Anton said. “Currently the Church is unoccupied. Have them sleep in there, after you board up the windows and roof. But only if they are willing to work, no matter how damaged or hurt they are. If they merely wish to be a drain then let them endure the snow. Everyone must be willing to contribute.”

Patrice nodded firmly. “As you say. We will do what we can, but I don’t know if we can convince them to help us or not.”

“Just do your best.” Anton shrugged. “But remind them that there is a way to live a better life, if they’re willing to work. But should something terrible arise…”Anton produced two communication pens. "Use this if something terrible arises. What one pen writes, the other will copy."

Anton quickly demonstrated how the pen worked. Patrice was more than curious.

"It is a magical artefact." Anton continued. "But I would be very upset if a Mage got their hands on this."

"A secret artefact?" Patrice hesitated to even touch his pen.

"I guess you could call it that. If it is broken, that's not really a drama. I can replace them easily. But I don't want anyone to see this or experiment on it. Understood?"

"Completely, Duke Anton. I will guard this with my life."

There's no need to be that dramatic. But so long as it gets the job done.

“We will do our best, Duke Anton.” Patrice bowed his head As Anton rose from his chair. “With this money we will make Hardheim into a prosperous city.”

“I will be returning before the end of winter.” Anton said. “Again, I will be leaving you to your own devices and I think that you know the city better than I do. My journeys take me elsewhere and I cannot winter here.”

“I…I see.”

“Regardless, I wish all of you the best.” Anton said. “I know you will do well.”

“We can easily have you stay the night.” Patrice offered. “The local tavern is currently empty, so…”

“We will be fine.”

And there’s not much that I want to do here other than placate Leo and, perhaps, make him think I care about this town. I do in a small way but not overly so.

Patrice nervously tapped his finger on the table. "Are you sure you don't want to at least have a walk around the town?"

"I've already seen it from above." Anton smiled. "No one seemed to notice me flying over your heads riding a Chirok."

"A what?"

"I don't think they settle in Qaiviel." Cetina said softly. "Too many humans. Though they might like the coast to hunt fish and seals"

"Haven't seen any Griffons or Perytons either." Kal added. "Though, that last one is supposed to only exist in the Wood Elf Territory."

Patrice's mouth was almost slack jawed. Here was his new Duke, speaking about fantastical creatures from around the continent.

"I..."

"I'll leave you to it." Anton said as he turned. "And don't even think about trying to find a way of returning my investment before winter ends. It will take many winters of hard work before something like that will happen."

Patrice almost stumbled back into his chair. Anton did not think he looked like a loan shark or a predatory lord, the previous ruler must not have been gentle.

"T-Thank you. I was...A little concerned."

"I wish you and your family, and Hardheim, the best." Anton gave a final wave and left.

In the sitting room the human soldiers were chatting with Patrice's wife and eldest son. She wanted to know what was happening beyond Qaiviel, the teenager wanted to know more about fighting and war, something she clearly did not want him to be involved in. The three boys were endlessly fascinated by Calo and Sheso, especially their dark skin. The twins made sure their ears were not exposed. Not that it was a crime to be a Dark Elf, only that it would raise more suspicion than two Seocurians so far south.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Anton bowed his head. "But we must depart. I wish your children well.”

Calo and Sheso ruffled the hair of the young boys and winked at the teenager. His face turned scarlet as he averted his eyes, his mother’s eyes narrowed on him. The human soldiers gave a brief apology and left.

“Wait!” The teenager ran up to Anton. Cetina stepped in between and raised her hand. He stopped when he realised she wasn’t going to let him past. “Those Knights-”

“The Yellow Striders seem like an arrogant bunch.” Anton said. “Honestly, I think that you should try something else for your future.”

“No.” He nervously laughed. “No...I was just talking with your bodyguards-”

Anton glanced at the Atros soldiers. They gave no indication they had divulged something critical or sensitive.

“And they said that they were once normal people, civilians, and now they can wield weapons and armour like the best of the Qaiviel Knights.”

“True…”

“Do you think I could start a Knight Order?”

His mother began to cough violently at his words. Patrice looked equally distressed.

“Well.” Anton scratched his beard. “I don’t think there’s anything stopping you from starting a band, at the very least. I believe only King Leo has the authority to create one, but I could petition him. He owes me a fair amount.”

“Then-”

Anton raised his hand. “But you understand that this isn’t something that you can just play at? You can’t just get bored and run home. You will be fighting in terrible conditions, fighting in the mud and blood, charging down someone that wants nothing more than to kill you and survive. Not to mention training and maintaining your mind and body every day.”

Anton took a deep breath. “Are you honestly ready for something like that?”

The teenager did not respond.

“I like your enthusiasm, I really do.” Anton smiled. “But as you are right now I would not. Perhaps when I return before the end of winter, and I can see some improvement, then we could talk further. This will not be a cheap endeavour either. You need to provide your own armour and horses, not to mention a castle to house the Knight Order.”

“I...I see.” The teenager slowly nodded. “I-”

“Come here.” Patrice waved his son closer. He held him close. “Just give it a few days and see what you think. Right now you’ve just met a stranger and it’s extremely…”

“I understand.” He smiled at Patrice. “At the very least it might get me out of the house.”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Anton gave a final wave as they left. “Don’t do anything stupid, any of you. Good luck.”

Patrice and his family gave a final wave, the young boys waving furiously at the twins, as they exited their home. Anton waited for the door to close before speaking.

“We’re done here. Let’s head home.”

“Is this all we’re doing here?” Verona asked. “Seems a bit of a long journey.”

“It’s fine. We’re only here to make it look to Leo that we’re actually settling. A few gold coins doesn’t mean much to us.” Anton shrugged. “Especially since it did actually come from The Church of The Holy Father.”

“At least their lives will be a bit better.” Kal shrugged.

“Yes…” Anton glanced to Cetina. “Since we’ve got a little time before Mezot can come and teach us again, I was thinking of heading to Thessos.”

Cetina nearly lost her balance. “R-Really?”

Anton nodded. “Yes. We can pick up more winter gear in Bebbezzar and head south. If we ride hard we should get there before Mezot is ready. Besides, I want to expand our portal network. And, should we ever be able to cross into the Deweth Clansmen territory without being immediately killed, Thessos would be a great place. Being so close to the border.”

Cetina smiled, her body bounced up and down with delight. “I would be so happy if we could. I...I don’t want to go back there, to live, but I want to know that everyone’s alright. Though Eluria and Sancha were cunts there were still a lot of good people there. I just hope they’ve managed to survive.”

“One way to find out.” Anton began walking towards the gate. Verona and Kal took his arms. “And if they are in trouble then we can help them. Right? We’ve done it here and we can do it again.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 26 - Revolutionaries (And a little extra surprise)

“This looks good.” Anton ran his hand over the thick woollen clothes, proudly displayed in the bustling Alcanares market. Winter affected Bebbezzar just as harshly as Qaiviel, a light smattering of snow but nowhere near as severe as Atros. “More than enough for what we need. Cetina? What do you think?”

Cetina leant over his shoulder and gently nodded. “Should be more than enough. Thessos is cold but we spent most of the winter inside…It should be enough.”

Verona pulled on his right arm, resting her head on his shoulder as she frowned at the clothes. “It does. But…But it looks kind of boring. Doesn’t it?”

“It’s supposed to keep you warm.” Kal murmured, her voice muffled by her white mask. “Fashion doesn’t matter.”

Anton caught the derisive look from the Bebbezzarian merchant hovering nearby. He did not say anything but Anton knew that he was biting his tongue, desperate to direct them to something more expensive but wary that he could drive them away.

“I suppose.” Verona huffed as she glanced at Cetina.

Despite the weather slowly turning colder by the day she still wore the metal armour, Anton knew that it was extremely cold to the touch and soon her modest underlay wouldn’t be enough. Not to mention Cetina didn’t have much fat on her body, she had little in the way of natural insulation.

“We can just wear it underneath. I’m not worried.” Verona tapped her chest. “They won’t be able to see it underneath this anyway.”

“What do you think?” Anton directed his question behind Cetina. Calo and Sheso stood close behind, watching the busy markets with matching expressions of awe and excitement. They had not said much since they had arrived in Alcanares, less upon entering the market. “Hello? Twins, are you there?”

“Huh?” Calo snapped her head towards Anton. “Sorry…We’ve just never seen so many people before.”

“Or a market so large,” Sheso added. They both moved closer to Cetina. “The…Our homeland doesn’t have anything as large as this.”

Cetina smirked. “Alcanares isn’t even the biggest port. The capital is even larger than this…” The Dark Elf Twins continued to look in awe.

“Even though it’s probably nothing like it was,” Cetina mumbled under her breath. Neither of the twins appeared to notice.

None of those walking past knew that Calo or Sheso were Dark Elves. They had taken lessons from Kal to hide their distinctive features, not that Dark Elves were hated by the Bebbezzarians but they would attract unwanted attention, and wore headgear that hid their long ears. To anyone that bothered to look they were Seocurians, albeit of a lighter skin shade.

“If we’re going to make the journey to Thessos,” Anton continued, raising his voice slightly as a travelling food merchant walked by, loudly hawking his wares. “What we have currently isn’t going to be enough. Especially yours.”

Anton rubbed the thin, loose black material. “It’s really cold…Aren’t you two cold?”

The twins shared a look.

“A little,” Calo said softly. “But we’ve been through worse.”

“I don’t think it snows in The Shadow Isles,” Cetina said. “But it does in Atr…Home.” Cetina looked around in case someone was listening. Even if they did overhear the chances of making the link was impossibly low.

Is it more suspicious to stop like that? Probably. Better to just keep going…I doubt most people here have a map, let alone one of the Kar Kingdom and a desire to find out where we’re from. We’re hardly important.

“We don’t have enough clothes for winter.” Anton looked up at the pale sky. He was all but certain he could see snowflakes floating down, only disappearing as it neared the city. “And some of us are suffering worse than others.”

“I know Rasha won’t need it.” Verona laughed. “She’s so huge...”

Verona smiled at the Dark Elf twins. “Sorry.”

“Why?” Sheso frowned.

“Don’t encourage her.” Anton chuckled. “You probably won’t like the answer. But we need to get something for people like Eider.”

“Right,” Kal said sternly.

“She’ll need more than just a thick coat.” Anton mused. “Since she’s cold-blooded, she’ll need something that generates heat to keep her moving, outside of just plonking them inside of the forge and have them work there. How-How warm do you think it gets underground? I don’t think the temperature would change much down there.”

“Then there’s that pit as well.” Verona murmured. “I-”

“Hey!” A loud voice called out over the general murmur. “Look who it is!”

Anton felt Verona, Kal and Cetina pull closer. Calo and Sheso stepped closer as well but not to the same degree. Through the crowds, Anton spied several familiar faces, a group of mercenaries they had met during their first visit to Alcanares. Eirco and Sara pushed their way through the crowds, more Sara frantically apologising to those disturbed by his passing, with the other four women close behind. Anton did not know their names, but the Ninja woman, with only her judging eyes exposed, did unsettle him slightly. And he wasn’t the only one.

Verona tapped his side. “Next time you meet these people you need to have more than him.”

Anton ignored Verona’s jab and focused on the friendly group of mercenaries.

"I didn't think we'd see you again." Eirco held a beaming smile, Sara smiled too but in a silent apology. "You got the Wyrm Heart so I thought you'd be on your way."

"It was very useful," Anton said. Calo and Sheso threw Anton a curious glance. "But we have business deeper in Bebbezzar. What about you? Did your job go well?"

"Extremely." Eirco beamed with pride. "Had a few near scrapes but nothing we couldn't-"

"If it wasn't for Gioia you'd be dead," Sara said dryly. "She found that hidden archer while you were busy flirting with me." Sara sighed, holding her staff close. "There is a time and place for that. And it's not when half the enemy is still alive!"

Doesn't sound like it's the first time either.

"I'm sorry." Eirco appeared genuinely remorseful. "It's easy to get distracted when I see you fighting. The strength, anger, confidence. It makes..."

Sara sighed. "You were a little rougher..." A wry smile formed on her lips. "I would have preferred it if you waited until you were done."

"So is it just you two?" Verona asked. "Or are there more involved?"

Both flushed. Neither could formulate a response as Verona laughed. Some of the nearby shoppers already looked a little embarrassed, or were trying to listen to what they thought was unrestrained debauchery every night.

I am sleeping with three women each night so I'm in no place to judge. Cetina's not having her days off either...

"At once?" Verona whistled. "I bet that's pretty tiring."

Eirco coughed loudly, fighting down the flush while Sara continued to pull strange faces.

"Everything is consensual," Erico said softly. "I have never forced myself upon another, nor have I allowed it to happen to me."

Erico was quite a handsome man. But that didn't mean he would automatically sleep with any woman that threw herself at him. Judging by those he travelled with he had a high standard.

"Verona just likes to tease." Anton lightly slapped Verona's helmet. "But where are your other companions?"

Sara, now fully recovered, pointed a stall far behind them. Anton spied the crossbow girl, the willowy twins and even the ninja perusing through a selection of exotic weapons. Judging by the number of gems embedded in the metal they were magical or ceremonial, he could not tell which.

"A fair amount of money then." Anton mused. "So onto the next job?"

"Yep." Erico nodded towards the south. "Another group of bandits have appeared to the south and they're not like the normal lot either. Not some deserters or rogue group. No, they are very organized. And very violent."

Anton turned to Cetina. "Sounds like those rebels you were talking about."

"So long as they were on even numbers they wouldn't attack." Cetina murmured. "Unless they really had to."

"Good tactics," Erico replied. "But they're the people we need to remove."

"Is it on the way to Thessos?" Anton asked, Cetina immediately understood and eagerly approved the idea, even though it had yet to be said.

"Why are you heading there?" Sara asked. "Not that I'm intruding."

"It's my home," Cetina spoke softly. "I want to...I want to see it, even if it is for the last time. See what's left of my family. If they survived the Clansmen attack."

"Last I heard they were rebuilding." Sara stepped closer. "So they haven't abandoned it."

"That's good to know." Cetina smiled. "I never knew my aunt's side of the family well but they didn't have anything to do with Eluria and Sancha."

Eirco and Sara shared a worried glance. Neither had any idea just how deep Cetina’s hatred for those two, and Strega Witches, truly ran.

“Hey!” A short woman, a large crossbow slung over her back, pushed her way through the light crowds. “We’ve got everything we need.”

“Fantastic!” Eirco gave her head a decent ruffle. She tried to hide her delight but it was a pointless endeavour. “Looks like our group is expanding-”

The crossbow woman huffed. “It’s already-”

Sara slapped her rear hard with the bottom of her staff. “Not like that.”

“Oh...” She quickly regained her composure. “So who are they?”

Kal leant to Anton’s ear. “Are all the short humans like that? Or are we just running into the exceptions?”

“Definitely the stranger ones,” Anton whispered back. Kal slowly nodded, he was certain she was smiling, as Sara tapped the crossbow woman’s rear again.

“Stop that.” She swatted away Sara’s next strike. “You were the people that wanted the Wyrm heart. Right? Did you do whatever you wanted with it?”

“We did.”

“I suppose a few extra hands wouldn’t hurt.” She reached back and tapped her crossbow. “But we shouldn’t need help to deal with some bandits.”

Eirco sighed and held her shoulder. “This is Melanie. She’s from the west of Bebbezzar, and an extremely good shot with a crossbow. And knives, if they get close enough.”

“You don’t use one of those latch things?” Verona mimicked the action. “I’ve tried and it...It took me a while. Cetina doesn’t have any issues but that’s just not comparable.”

Melanie smirked and rolled up her sleeves. She was very well built, less than Cetina but still impressive. Given her lack of height, it stood out even more.

Like a Dwarf…

“I could probably beat most of you in strength-”

“You don’t need to show off.” Eirco squeezed her shoulder. “They just wanted to know if you can actually fight or if it’s for show.”

Melanie slowly nodded. Another three women emerged through the crowd to join her. The willowy twins held fur coats in the arms while the ninja stared intently at Anton’s side.

“New cloaks for the journey.” A sister said.

“Ours are old and tattered.” The other spoke without any discernible difference in tone. “We thought it would be a good time to get new ones.”

Anton leant down to Calo and Sheso. “See how frustrating it can be sometimes.”

The Dark Elf twins merely stuck out their tongues.

The ninja said nothing. She kept her eyes focused on them, but her hand gently brushed against something hard strapped to her thigh, a weapon no doubt. Unlike the others, Anton didn’t know how she fought, not that he was planning to tangle with any of them.

“Ah. These are Adélie and Odette.” Eirco moved between the willowy twins and held their shoulders. They didn’t flinch at his touch but weren’t helplessly in love with him, like Melanie. “Fantastic archers and trappers.”

“And her?” Verona asked. “She’s the odd one out of you all.”

Eirco smiled. “Gioia. A friend from a neighbouring city. She heard that we were becoming mercenaries so she decided to join.”

Verona folded her arms. “Looks like an assassin to me.”

“Why fight someone at their strongest when you can kill them in their sleep,” Gioia spoke very softly, her eyes remained as attentive as ever.

It’s not a fantasy thing, is it?

“But I can fight in a battle if I need to.” Gioia continued.

"We were planning to depart the moment we had all of our supplies," Erico said. "How soon will you be ready?"

"As soon as we have these clothes stored safely in our warehouse." Anton nodded to the eagerly awaiting merchant.

Melanie frowned. "Why are you buying so many? You're not taking them with you...So..."

"We should not pry into people's private lives and activities," Erico spoke like he was giving a lecture. "It is up to them what they do with their wealth. If they could afford a Wyrm Heart they can certainly afford some thick winter clothes."

The clothes merchant's eyes practically bulged at the knowledge of just how much money Anton had spent.

"Don't even think of raising the priced or I'll take my business elsewhere," Anton said loudly. "You can make a good profit, or you can try and take more and get nothing."

The merchant understood and curtailed his enthusiasm.

"We'll meet you outside of the southern gate." Erico began ushering the woman away. "See you soon."

Sara and the twins smiled and waved, Gioia continued to stare until she was forced to look away while Melanie smirked and waved with the back of her hand. A few seconds passed and they were gone, consumed by the crowd.

"I think your harem is a lot more stable," Verona whispered. "You just need some twins now..."

Calo and Sheso's faces turned beet red in an instant. Anton gently sapped Verona's rear, unclear if it was a punishment or a reward.

"You two might need to ride with us," Anton said. "No, you're not walking beside. That's simply unacceptable."

"I'll take one," Verona said. "I can fight without my hands."

"My horse is pretty strong." Cetina folding her arms. "I could really carry both."

"Let's get these back home first." Anton turned to the merchant. "How much for everything?"

---[]---

Anton's concerns about Calo and Sheso walking we're unfounded. Eirco's band only had one horse, an older stubborn thing that carried their packs and food. Melanie tried to make it move faster but the beast did not care and even slowed down until she relented.

"He's a stubborn thing." Eirco laughed. "But he was cheap and he does what he's told."

"So long as it’s what he wants to do," Sara said softly. The two began to chat intimately, Sara lightly brushing a hand against his rear without saying a word.

I bet Cetina felt this weird when she first travelled with us.

Beyond Alcanares’s, the land of Bebbezzar was almost exactly as Cetina, and Duran, had described: lush fields extended in every direction, dotted by clusters of trees and maintained shrubbery, bristling with wildlife. In the distance were more forest with plentiful game running about; deers with four antlers, Razor Pigs and sheep the size of horses.

"Sure you could ride some of those sheep." Anton mused.

Sara tilted her head up. "Oh, you can. But not if they're adults in the wild. They're more likely to ram you to death than let you touch them."

Anton noticed the small horn in the centre of each of the sheep. While it wouldn't puncture skin its sheer size, and the bulk of the beast behind it, meant it would have tremendous force. A few broken bones would be the least of concern.

"Where did these Demons emerge?" Anton asked.

Gioia silently pointed to a field that had been left overgrown and charred. While the smaller grasses and weeds had smothered any of the charred ground the small crater was still present.

"No one's guarding the place?" Verona asked.

"The Alcanares council had already checked it thoroughly with mages for any lingering..." Erico searched for the right words. "Presence. Nothing. And since the owner is dead, and no one really wants to take something they think might be cursed, it's become like this."

Anton had mixed emotions. While the landowner had Beastkin slaves they too were killed by the Demons.

We need to find one of those leader Demons, the ones with the six swords, and force an explanation. Its confusion with the Beastkin gives me some hope they might be able to be reasoned with. If they don't just kill us on sight.

Small peddlers and traders passed them by on the stone road. Some attempted to hawk their wares, an impromptu sale outside of the reach of city taxes and tariffs, but Eirco politely declined.

"It's not that we'll get into any trouble. Just that every other peddler will also try their luck with us."

"That's happened to us before." Anton mused. "Buy one thing and you're downed in an avalanche of desperate sellers."

"They have to make a living too," Sara added softly.

As they neared the forest the number of travellers thinned and those that did pass help long and worried faces. It did not take much cajoling to reveal they all had been robbed, in one form or another.

"Describe them to us," Erico said.

"Are you going to hunt them?" One of the traders asked. "There are quite a few...Is that a Mage's Charm?"

Sara held her staff high. "I am."

"Well..." The trader rubbed his arms. "Maybe you can deal with them."

“How many are there and where are they hiding?” Eirco asked. Anton had the feeling these traders might just ramble on if left to their own devices, or try and sell something to them.

“The forest just beyond this one.” The trader pointed along the road. More traders emerged, they too moved with a despondent gait. “About a hundred of them.” The trader leant close. “They’re wearing the red headbands.”

“Shit.” Cetina clicked her tongue. “They’re this close?”

The trader glumly nodded. He held his elbow tight as he looked at the ground, a deep frown on his face.

“I don’t know why they want to hurt us-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Eirco declared. “They’re just bandits and they are preying on innocent travellers and merchants. Right?”

“Right.” The trader didn’t answer resolutely, likely that he was confused from Eirco’s outburst.

“So we’ll crush them and free the road.”

“And get well paid too,” Melanie whispered softly to Sara. Sara smiled and weakly nodded.

“Well…” The trader looked along the road again. “I don’t know exactly where they are. But I’m sure you’ll find them if you travel along the road. They might not attack you, since it doesn’t look like you’re carrying valuables.”

Sara’s charm certainly looks valuable.

“We’ll deal with them.” Eirco waved them forward. “Don’t you worry about them ever again.”

The traders slowly nodded and continued on their way. There was little they could do for them. Anton could have given them money but it would have only raised more questions than answers.

“A red headband?” Anton asked as they began to enter the forest. “That’s these bandits uniform?”

“It’s cheap.” Adélie, one of the willowy twins, said while running a hand through her long hair. “And easy to make.”

Her sister nodded. “Sometimes they just drench it in blood.” Odette, the other sister, flashed them a murderous smile. “Blood can be much cheaper than a dye.”

“Especially in these times,” Adélie said softly.

“So where did these people even start?” Anton asked. He received an odd look from Melanie. “An organised force like this, an insurgency or revolution, doesn’t just spontaneously emerge. Did the Seocurians help them?”

“I certainly hope not.” Melanie spat onto the ground. “They’ve killed a lot of people in their stupid…Whatever they call it.”

“Revolution,” Gioia said softly. “They call it a revolution.”

“I take it that you heard that while you were skulking around their camps?” Anton asked the ninja.

Gioia shrugged. “They were selling children to the Seocurians.”

“They are certainly for the people,” Anton grumbled.

Eirco and Sara slowed so they walked alongside Anton’s horse.

“From what we know they started right next to the Seocurian border,” Eirco said. “A port city. Rumours…Rumours spread easily…”

A thought flashed through Anton’s mind. “What do they think about the Beast-kin?”

Eirco frowned. “They despise them. Well, more than most people in Bebbezzar.”

“I think I know what happened.” Anton received an odd look from Eirco and Sara. “It’s not that hard to work out. The Beast-kin were brought in since they’re much, much cheaper than human labourers. And those that used them could make ludicrous amounts of money. Others saw this and bought more slaves.”

“Then no one is working.” Sara mused. “And potentially thousands of people without work, seeing the Beastkin taking their jobs.”

“Drowning themselves in alcohol.” Anton continued. “Then they get it into their heads to get rid of the Beast-kin, who took their jobs, and the employers who forced them out.”

“Then who’s running the places now?” Verona asked. “If they got rid of the bosses…”

“The people that started it.” Anton shrugged. “Someone needs to be in charge. And they need to spread their ideas. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. But I do know that alcohol was certainly involved.”

“It’s good money for us.” Eirco received an odd look from Sara. “But I’d prefer to be hunting actual bandits or monsters that are stalking the land. Something helps people without murdering-”

“You just said bandits.” Verona shook her head. “Unless you don’t think bandits are humans. Or they’re Beast-kin bandits…Right?”

“Of course not.” Erico smiled. “But some try and escape from time to time.”

“They don’t get far,” Kal said softly.

“No. Normally they are returned.” Eirco shrugged. “But I don’t think they’re ever seen again.”

They continued along the forest pathway in silence. Though the traders said the revolutionaries were beyond this forest everyone kept their eye peeled for any sign of movement. Every so often Calo and Sheso pointed to a particularly dense thicket only for a small rabbit to dart through the undergrowth. No one admonished them, Eirco’s gang was quite impressed at the Dark Elves abilities, especially Gioia. The ninja said nothing but she looked at the Dark Elves in a mixture of jealousy and envy. None knew Calo and Sheso were Dark Elves but that wasn’t something they needed to know.

Once out of the forest Anton was surprised any of the traders were taking the road. The signs of a recent battle littered the sides of the road; the bodies of humans and several horses lay in a pile, pushed away by a passing trader but only enough so a cart could pass and not for the dignity of the dead. Most of the bodies were peasants, thick cloth clothes but little armour, but a few were modestly armoured and sporting the bright traditional colours of Bebbezzar, albeit now stained with blood.

“See the red bands?” Eirco pointed to the dead peasants. “That’s them.”

“There’s a lot more than I thought there would be.” Anton silently counted the bodies. “There’s at least twenty of them and only eight of the others.”

“That’s a terrible loss for what they managed to accomplish,” Cetina said.

“They’ve always got more.” Melanie checked her crossbow was loaded. “No matter how many are killed.”

“Always someone willing to fight for the promise of money.” Anton mused. “Always.”

Kal pulled on her reins and stopped her horse. She pointed to a pile of dead horses, flies buzzing furiously around the rotting corpse, and something wooden hidden by their bodies.

“A carriage.” Anton dismounted. “I wonder if they took hostages.”

“An effective way to gain funds,” Gioia mumbled. She drew two small blades and crouched towards the battered carriage, her eyes always searching the bodies for anyone still alive.

“Is she going to be alright?” Verona asked. Everyone else in Anton’s group remained on their horses but were more than willing to jump at a moment’s notice.

“She knows what she’s doing.” Erico smiled. “If things get really nasty I’m sure she’d just slip away, even in the middle of battle.”

“You know that’s not true,” Sara replied. “She’s always come back.”

I wonder if she’s scarred like Kal is supposedly? I could fix that…

“Is Gioia scarred?” Anton asked. “I might be able to fix that.”

Melanie scoffed. “She’s not scarred or wounded in any way.” Melanie sighed dramatically. “It was the way she was trained by someone. I think from Xiam. Wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Sara said. “She doesn’t talk about it much.”

If she wants to play pretended who am I to judge? So long as she doesn’t get herself killed.

Gioia shifted around the horse corpses and approached the carriage. It didn’t look particularly well furnished but it wasn’t ramshackle, probably a middling lord and his escort. Gioia disappeared and the carriage door clacked open. Gioia emerged a moment later, though only her eyes were exposed they spoke of a great sadness.

“Dead.” She hurried towards them. Despite her loose clothes, she moved almost silently. “All dead. A family, two young girls and their parents.”

She threw a small medal at Erico. “I don’t recognise the insignia. But I think it’s from near the southern border with Seocuria.”

Erico held the medal aloft. It was quite simple, an iron disk with an intricate golden emblem etched into the metal, a type of flower.

“I don’t recognise it.” Erico showed the others in his group, none had any idea. “How about you?”

He tossed it to Anton, who immediately passed it Cetina. Cetina held the medal close to her eyepatch covered eye. Eirco, Sara and Melanie shared a worried glance at Cetina’s peculiarity.

“I think it belongs to the Sheruka family.” Cetina lowered the medal. “They’re a small mining town near the border. I think we traded with them from time to time…But I was very young and I think it was only once.”

“There were also empty chests in the carriage,” Gioia said. “With large metal bands and locks. Only something you would use to store valuables.

Erico shook his head. “They were probably fleeing these revolutionaries. And now their wealth is fuelling their murderers.”

Gioia coughed. “Many of the bodies show signs of interference.”

“Do you mean-”

Gioia stopped Verona with a raised hand. “Not in a sexual manner. But all valuables have been removed. Even iron. Everything that cannot be easily removed or easy to resell.”

“Should have checked their carts for bloodied armour.” Anton mused. “But that’s their choice.”

Anton formed a Fire Bomb. “I don’t think it’s right for them to remain out here, rotting and bloating in the sun while being picked over by predators, both beast and man.”

“No…” Eirco looked to Sara. “I don’t think Sara should use her gravity magic before we fight.”

Anton threw the Fire Bomb onto the mass of people, constantly feeding mana into the fire so the bodies began to burn. It was not a pleasant endeavour, thick black smoke began to leak from the bodies as they slowly burned, but they didn’t have the time to bury each of the bodies. Anton also didn’t want to see decaying children. Everyone waited and watched in silence as the bodies were reduced to ash, irrespective of what they were in life.

---[]---

With the piles of bodies now far behind them they approached the second forest. Despite the proximity to Alcanares the roads were barren behind them. The traders had reached the city and warned them of the danger, the revolutionaries were probably harassing those still coming to the city. Suddenly Kal raised her hand.

"They're just ahead." Kal readied her bow. "I can bear them fighting."

Anton stopped his horse. Over their breathing he could hear the faint clanging of metal interspersed with faint cries far in the distance. Gioia removed a section of her veil over her ears. They were perfectly normal, she even had a few blue gemstone studs in her earlobe.

"At least forty people involved," Gioia added. She fastened her veil and drew two small blades. "No idea how many are enemies."

They silently reached the crest of a small rise in the road as the noises grew louder, again Anton was reminded of Duran and their first encounter. A merchant's convoy was assailed by bandits, but not the usual destitute and desperate kind. These wore passable armour, designed for stealth over outright strength and wielded decent weapons. Small red headbands rippled in the wind, some had them attached to the edge of their helmet but all had the signifying mark of the Revolutionaries. The caravan civilians wore vibrantly coloured clothes, little of it designed for combat. Baring a few well-armoured guards they were essentially defenceless.

"Please do not resist!" A voice boomed over the sounds of battle. "Your goods and wares will be distributed amongst the people. For a better life and future for everyone. Even you, you who steal the people's wealth for your own selfish desires. We do not wish to harm you so, please, lay down your arms and surrender your valuables. The other traders have been allowed to leave-"

“Fuck off!” A caravan guard sunk his mace into a bandit’s head, the face crumpled and sprayed blood and brain fragments everywhere. “Preach your crap to someone that cares!”

“Do not relent!” The voice boomed again.

The caravan guards continued to defend themselves, the civilians stood behind them and used long spears and some even slings. A pair of revolutionaries fell and they were no closer to capturing their prize. Anton did not have much faith in their combat ability, clearly they relied on their numbers and intimidation, if this battle was any indicator.

“Enough!” The voice was far more shrill this time. “Slaughter these fools and take their belongings!”

Eirco smiled. “Time for a quick battle. Will you help us? I can’t promise you a reward but you will be more than welcome to pick through their belongings.”

Sara gripped her staff tight. “And I’m sure they’ll be willing to give us some food.”

“Of course.” Anton summoned a Small Lightning Crow and a Large Fire Imp. Eirco’s band gasped in surprise. They knew he was a mage but not that he could use multiple types. “Let’s make sure that we don’t hit any friendlies.”

Sara glanced sideways at Eirco, who took painstaking effort not to notice.

"Stop right there, bandits!" Erico yelled over the battle. "Surrender now!"

Whoever owned the booming voice ordered their forces to attack the newcomers, despite not knowing how many or how capable they were. Nearly half the Revolutionariespeeled away from the caravan, much to the defender's relief, and charged at their group.

I suppose I could beat them in just a few seconds.

"You want any of them alive?" Anton asked.

Erico shook his head. "Their leader's head will suffice. Spare anyone that surrenders. Kill the rest."

"That might be a bit hard." Verona summoned her blood. "But not for me at least."

Erico glanced at Verona before focusing his attention where it should lie, towards the swarm of angry Revolutionaries charging at them.

"Shield your eyes," Anton yelled.

Instead of his usual barrage of lightning bolts and bombs he decided to try something a little different, one of the magic he had learned but never really had a chance to use. He released a wave of lightning, the bright light emerged just in front of their lines and raced towards the Revolutionaries. Clearly, they were not expecting mages and broke their charge. Some managed to escape the Lightning Wave but not those at the front. Their bodies spasmed violently, little arcs of lightning fraying out from their body. After hitting the first line of Revolutionaries the Lightning wave quickly lost strength, becoming more of an irritant than anything.

"Impressive." Sara softly mumbled. The purple crystals on her Charm glowed bright as she continued to chant. "Strange magic you're using."

"Girls!" Erico looked to the other girls in his company with their ranged weapons. "Target any that are still willing to fight.”

Adélie and Odette loosed their loaded ordnance. Bows could shoot faster than Melanie’s crossbow, so the willowy twins provided most of the damage. Kal joined as well, much to their relief, with effectively four archers to fire into the enemy mass.

"Where is Gioia?" Anton asked. "Did she just run away?"

Erico smiled. "She'll be taking out their leader. He won't be giving orders for much longer."

For what little good it does. Are they not capable of anything more than charging?

"Fire a volley!" The enemy leader boomed. "Crush these intruders."

"Trying to make us seem like the bad guys." Anton mused.

The Revolutionaries at the rear drew small bows. While they did not have the raw power of their large weapons they were still deadly. The bows twanged and released their missiles.

"Too slow." Sara tapped her staff on the ground. A purple hue covered the air a few meters before them. The arrows dropped to the ground the moment they touched the purple light, like they had been thrown by a child, like gravity had increased upon them a hundred times. They did not roll but started to embed themselves into the dirt and stone. Only then did Anton realise all of the grass now lay perfectly flat and still.

"W-What?" A lone Revolutionary muttered. The others were stunned into silence, even as the battle continued behind them.

"Does one of you know Earth Magic?" Sara asked. The purple field had only been active for a few seconds and yet her fingers were trembling. Mezot had unleashed over a hundred giant icicles before her breathing had even started to waver. Manipulating gravity, part of the very fabric of reality, was probably far more mana intensive than creating ice out of the air.

"Unfortunately not," Verona yelled. "But I have some pots if you want them."

She threw one of her oldest pots towards Sara. Sara raised her hand, the faint purple hue surrounded her fingers and followed the pot. The moment the clay pot touched the field it shot forward like a bullet, smashing into a dumbstruck Revolutionaries face so hard it exploded, the resulting fragments of bone and clay tore into those behind, killing many.

"Fuck!" Verona was beside herself with joy. "Now that's powerful."

Kal jabbed Anton's side with the end of her bow. "Something like that?"

"One of them." Anton smiled as the Revolutionary’s slowly recovered from the shock. "But it won't need magic."

A grenade doesn't need to manipulate gravity to function. And anyone can use it, not that Sara's magic isn't insanely powerful.

The Revolutionaries could not decide what to do. The caravan was holding on and arrows and bolts continued to fly. Erico tossed small rocks towards Sara's hand with the same devastating results as Verona's pot.

"Advance!" The booming voice yelled. "Do not surrender yourself to fear!"

Anton did not understand the logic. They were clearly outmatched. It would be smarter to retreat, accept the losses rather than fight on and lose everyone.

I must never fall into the same trap. Confidence is a slow and insidious killer.

The Revolutionaries grit their teeth and charged, screaming with the anger of men who knew their death was imminent.

Erico scoffed at their act of bravado and prepared to charge. As his rear boot left the ground he planted it back down hard, hard enough that he staggered slightly. Anton saw Sara and $ flash him a smile.

Seems like the sort of man that rushes headlong into danger. Even into a field that would crush him under extreme gravity. Must constantly worry those that care deeply for him. Speaking of, where is that ninja girl?

Anton loosed a volley of Fire Bombs. Seeing their comrades die, screaming as they roasted alive, was more than sufficient to completely break them. They dropped their weapons and shields, scattering to the woods.

"Don't let them escape!" Melanie yelled as she frantically loaded her crossbow.

Adélie and Odette strained their bodies to the limit to fire off every arrow they had left. Not every strike was lethal but the sheer number was enough to break what little spirit remained.

"Wasn't really needed," Verona grumbled. "Again. Is there an Old God of gravity? Or whatever Sara uses? Everything she can touch becomes a weapon."

Sara smiled at Verona. It had not been a minute and yet Sara looked to be on the verge of fainting.

There must be a more efficient way. Well, maybe not when she’s the only mage and Eirco has a tendency to charge into battle. I imagine her ‘acceleration’ attack is how she normally fights. She’d never run out of ammunition.

Anton loosed a final volley of Lightning Bolts into the backs of the Revolutionaries attacking the caravan. Realising they had been defeated many surrendered, a few attempted to run but were slain by arrows or by a Lightning strike from the Lightning Crow silently hovering above the trees.

"We surrender!" An Revolutionary yelled. A small piece of red cloth hung from the corner of his helmet with a line of yellow sewn along its length, likely the denotation of a higher rank.

"Not after all that shit!" The caravan guard, the same that had initially rebuked the Revolutionaries, gripped his sword tight with a trembling hand. "You just throw your hands up and that's it?"

"As an honourable man-"

"Fuck off."

The guard rammed his sword through the Revolutionary's unprotected back. The man screamed, his fingers trembled as they touched the bloodied blade, before he was kicked forward and into the ground.

He pointed his bloodied sword at the next Revolutionary's throat. "You lot don't deserve-"

"Stop!" Erico yelled. Sara released the purple field and breathed deeply.

Erico almost dropped his weapons to run just a fraction faster. The guard hesitated but a fellow guard did not, striking an Revolutionary in the face with a mace. Teeth and blood sprayed over the ground as the Revolutionaries cowered in fear.

"You helped us but this is our fight." The first guard's welled with tears. "These animals killed my daughter-"

"No we didn't!" A small Revolutionary whimpered. He was little more than a boy but the caravan guards directed nothing but fury at him. "We didn't kill any children! We only wanted your goods-"

"Not here! But your kind raided my town to the east. Sold my wife to the Seocurians and killed my daughter when she fought back." Anger radiated from the Caravan Guard. "I'm only here to make enough money to get her back." He gripped his sword with both hands. "And some little snot-"

The appearance of a crow, rippling with lightning and hovering in front of his face, stopped him. So too did the Fire Imp, brandishing its small blade at the guards. They were so consumed with anger and the thirst for revenge that they had not noticed them approach.

"Our companion merely wished for us to interrogate them before you try to dispense some kind of justice," Anton said loudly. "Especially since it appears their leaders have escaped."

To their side, the bushes and trees rustled. Three men emerged, wearing Revolutionary garb and armour, heavily wounded with their hands raised high.

"Your distraction was effective." Gioia silently emerged from behind the last man, pointing her small, thin sword at his kidneys. "I wouldn't have been able to capture them by myself."

"Three adult men against one woman without magic?" Cetina frowned lightly. "That seems very unlikely."

"Capturing is difficult. Not killing."

Anton saw how her eyes glistened with delight. Gioia clearly had her own quirks to work through.

"And these are your commanders?" Anton asked.

Several Revolutionaries nodded.

"Well." Anton dismounted. "We don't need you anymore."

The Caravan Guards only hesitated for a second before descending upon the hapless Revolutionaries. Blood and screams filled the air. Eirco’s entire party, minus Gioia, looked on in mild horror, Eirco especially. He tried to speak, tried to search for something that would stop the slaughter but couldn’t. Gioia caught his eye as she pointed to the dead around the ruined caravan. Many were women and a few were children.

The first Caravan Guard broke through the mass with the young Revolutionary throat in his hands. The young man, really a boy, screamed bloody murder as the guard's hands crushed down onto his eyes. The guard, bloody spittle flying from his mouth, threw him into the ground and slammed his head into the ground over and over. The boy whimpered a final plea before the guard punched him in the mouth and pulled hard on his tongue.

Anton found Calo and Sheso standing nearby, dumbstruck by the violence on display. “Cover your ears. You probably don’t want to watch this.”

“And you do?” Calo reached for his hand. “It’s horrible.”

Both averted their eyes but didn’t cover their ears. Already the cries were gone, replaced by the grunts of exertion of the Caravan Guard as he continued to mutilate the Revolutionary.

“You clan are pirates,” Anton said softly. “Surely they’ve done some horrible things.”

“Not like this.” Calo winced. “Not that we’ve seen.”

Doubt they’d show their bosses granddaughters the really nasty stuff. Of course they could be decent pirates, if such a thing exists, and only rob people for their money. Surely there were some on Earth that were like that.

As the screams turned more vile and desperate the twins covered their ears, scrunched their eyes tight and hung their heads low. Verona and Cetina didn’t look particularly thrilled, Kal’s body language matched theirs, but Anton wasn’t about to interfere with the small modicum of vengeance they could inflict.

“Gioia.” Anton waved at the ninja, holding the terrified Revolutionaries at knifepoint. “Bring them to me.”

“Are you going to burn them?” She pushed them forward, directing them around the dead and dying “After what they’ve done they probably don’t deserve much better.”

Cetina grumbled under her breath, Verona and Kal were not happy with the thought either.

“No.” Anton waited until the three were presented to him. “I just want to make them answer a few questions.”

“Better for them to be kneeling.” Cetina sheathed her sword and motioned for the Revolutionaries to kneel. One did not obey, for a reason that Anton could not fathom, until Cetina kicked him in the back of the leg. He groaned as his leg buckled and collapsed to the ground. “Hands on your heads.”

Gioia chuckled, her eyes bristled with delight and a perverse satisfaction.

Guess she likes watching bad people in pain…I guess I can kind of relate.

“Erico?” Anton saw the young man scrunching his eyes tight, jumping every time a scream came from the Revolutionaries. Despite being a mercenary, a man that fought and killed for money, he was quite sensitive to such brutality.

Probably normally deals with monsters and kills people quickly. Never had the need, the desire, to inflict pain. If someone killed one of his harem I’m sure he’d snap.

“Erico?!”

“Yes?” Erico winced as the young Revolutionary screamed in pain.

“You said you wanted their heads-”

“Fucking die already!”

Anton barely glanced at the slaughter happening just beyond them.

“-But did you want to know anything else?”

“What?”

“I can extract anything you want to know from them.” Anton raised his hand. “Without needing to resort to violence.”

Erico sighed as the slaughter of the Revolutionaries was almost complete.

“I suppose…” Erico shook his head. He looked at Calo and Sheso, still covering their ears but no longer scrunching their eyes tight. They watched Cetina for the sign that the violence was over. “I suppose the guild will pay for information.”

Anton held the Revolutionaries’ head. The man’s eyes widened in fear as Anton chanted the truth prayer.

“So, what do you want to know?”

---[]---

Anton silently held each of the Revolutionaries’ heads as Erico’s band thoroughly interrogated them. Mostly it was mundane questions; where they came from, the situation in the areas they controlled and possible troop movements. None of the captives knew anything about the carriage or its occupants, which was a little shame as there was no chance of any survivors.

“That’s enough.” Erico waved Anton back. “That’s enough.”

“If you say so.”

Anton withdrew his hand. The Revolutionaries eyes were wild with unimaginable fear and terror, he had never experienced his body compelled to speak the truth before. Anton knew it wasn’t an entirely pleasant experience.

“What do you want to do with them?” Cetina asked. “You said you only needed-”

“We’ll take them back.” Melanie cut Cetina off. She produced a small spool of rope. “We’ll let the guild sort it out. It’s up to them what they want. Well, what the person that posted the job wants.”

Erico said nothing as Melanie and Cetina bound their hands tight. Sara was by his side, gently rubbing his shoulder while Gioia looked on worried. The willowy twins kept their attention focused on the surrounding forests.

The caravan guards approached, drenched in blood. The fury that had driven them to such acts of brutality had burned out. So too had their will, they looked like zombies.

“These are ours,” Anton said calmly. “Understood?”

“Thank you.” The first caravan guard offered his hand. Wet blood dripped from his fingers. He quickly realised why Anton didn’t wish to touch him. “Sorry. But it…”

“There’s nothing to apologise for.” Anton forced a smile. “But we need to be on our way.”

“Are you still heading south?” Sara asked. She had calmed but still held her staff tight.

Anton nodded. “We are. And if you’re heading back north then I fear this is where we must part ways.”

“I…” Erico searched for something but couldn’t find the words. He was a good-hearted person, probably not the person to deal with the disgusting realities of combat.

“Regardless of how it happened, these Revolutionaries will never again hurt another person.” Anton pointed back towards the city. “If they weren’t here that family wouldn’t have been slaughtered and their bodies left to rot in the sun.”

Erico’s face hardened. He glumly nodded as Sara and Melanie did their best to comfort him.

“Have you all lost someone?” Anton asked the caravan guards. “Before…Today?”

Many nodded.

“Then I don’t know what to do.” Anton took a shallow breath. “Maybe teaming up against these Revolutionaries is the right thing, maybe it’s best to head west and avoid the fighting. I don’t know. I can’t make a decision for you, but I can help.”

“How?” A different caravan guard stepped forward. “I’ve lost everything. They chased me from my farm. Now it’s a burnt wreck and they use children to try and plough the fields.”

Anton didn’t reply. Instead he produced a gold coin for each of the caravan guards.

“What is this?” The first Caravan Guard was utterly dumfounded. “Is this…Real?”

“Perfectly real.” Anton took a step back as the guards marvelled in the wealth placed before them. “Do what you want with it, it is now yours to keep, but remember…Someone has to fight these scum. Otherwise they’re going to rule over everything.”

The guards shared a look. Their will, the fire was returning. Not as bright as before but consistent, a slow burning desire for revenge. They gave another heartfelt thanks and returned to their caravan and tried to assess their losses, except for the first Caravan Guard.

“I don’t think that boy deserved that.” He mumbled. “It just felt right-”

Anton raised his hand. “Help your people. They need you to be strong, now more than ever. There will be time for mourning and recrimination once you safely behind the city walls.”

The man slowly nodded. “Yeah…Yeah. That’s right. Thanks…We wouldn’t be alive without you. All of you.”

The man bowed and ran towards his caravan. Anton winced slightly as he stood on the corpses of the Revolutionaries without a care, squeezing out blood from their numerous wounds.

“This…” Erico removed his simple metal helmet. “This has been a…A day.”

“Your normal fights aren’t so bloody?” Verona asked. “Ours aren’t.”

“We tend to avoid problems like this,” Kal added.

“Nowhere near as bad.” Erico sighed. “Normally it’s against beasts and monsters…Though they scream just as loudly when they’re killed.”

“Even the worst creature on this world doesn’t want to die,” Anton said. He wasn’t sure what he was adding but it simply slipped from his lips.

“Yeah…” Erico signalled to Adélie and Odette. The twins kicked the backs of the Revolutionaries until they stood. “Tell us how your adventure to the south went if you’re ever in Alcanares again.”

Do you want to meet us again?

“We will.” Anton offered his hand. Erico hesitated but still shook it.

Sara and the willowy twins gave them a weak smile, Melanie almost scoffed at their presence, Gioia eyed her companions in silence until they were out of earshot.

“Erico needed that.” She whispered. “He’s too soft. Normally lets them go if they promise to repent. But…But we all know that’s not how reality works.”

“So long as he doesn’t turn the other way,” Anton said. “And become a murderous soldier.”

Gioia nodded. “We will do our best to keep him from falling. Erico will be a great leader. One day.”

“Do you plan to fight against the Revolutionaries on behalf of the crown?” Cetina asked.

Gioia chuckled. “No…Well, perhaps. Things change quickly in Bebbezzar. But in these times…” She looked to the caravan. “Anyone could become King, no?”

Before anyone could speak Gioia ran towards Erico, with a speed Anton had only seen from a Feline Beast-kin at full speed.

Verona scoffed, folding her arms. “Should have used the truth prayer on her. See what craziness is going on in her head.”

“They’d certainly think we’re crazy,” Anton said. “If they knew what we had planned. Kal?”

Kal’s mask snapped towards him.

“Do you think we should help everyone we can?” Anton nodded to the blood-covered caravan civilians. “I don’t think some are going to make the hour, let alone the trip to Alcanares.”

“Sure.” Kal flexed her fingers. “Even though the civil war is killing hundreds every day we can still help some. We should try and save everyone we can, even if we’ll never see them again.”

“True.” Verona and Cetina said simultaneously. They shared a quick smile as they moved to help the wounded.

---------------------

**If you want to have a look at my other story that's brewing in the back of my mind, just click here and tell me what you think**

Spoiler :

Chapter 001 - Blood Stained Beginning

Rex's body burned, every muscle and fibre of his being screamed in pain, begging him to stop but he knew that meant death. Thunderous hooves followed his every movement, pursuing him for a reason Rex did not understand.

He dared a glance back. A short spear grazed his face, ripping flesh and light blue scales from his face.

"Flee!" The voice behind him roared like thunder. "Flee you little snake! At least do a better job than the rest of your pissant tribe!"

Another spear struck the grass before him, scattering grass and dirt over his bleeding body. The sharp burst of pain brought him a moment of clarity and he fled once more. Now the hooves were much closer. No longer did they close in before dropping away. They had tired of the chase.

"G-Go away!" Rex's tight throat screamed. "I haven't done anything!"

Mocking laughter rang throughout the air. Tears filled Rex's eyes, through the haze he saw something this right. A hoof shot out and nearly collided with his head, however it still managed to rip his head fins, sending him tumbling to one side. Ground and sky mixed together in a dizzying spin until it stopped abruptly. Pain shot through Rex's back. He whimpered and felt a large stone behind him.

"Why..." Rex pulled his torso up, he could feel little else. "Why are you doing this to us?"

He wiped away the blood and tears as the mocking laughter returned. A towering figure was the source, the source of Rex's fear and anger.

"Is that it?" The voice asked as Rex's vision slowly improved. "Is this the best your kind can do?"

A hoof kicked at the grass, sending it scattering over Rex's head.

"After all the trouble you've given us in the past."

Rex blinked hard and his sight returned to normal. The voice belonged to a Centaur, a giant horse lower body with a human torso attached above the horse's shoulders, smooth skin with no scales or fur. At least that's what Rex's father had told him humans looked like during a hunting trip.

The brief thought of his father brought Rex to the verge of tears once more. Again the mocking laughter filled the air.

"Aw. What's the matter?" The Centaur mocked him like he was speaking with a baby. "Do you want your mommy? Here. Let's see what she thinks."

What little blood Rex had left drained from his body as the Centaur pulled something from a pack on his flank. Dark blood dripped from his hands as the Centaur tossed it to Rex. Rex backed away, curling his body underneath itself, but froze when he finally understood what it was.

"M..."

Rex could not utter another word as the bloody head of his mother rolled in the dirt. He barely recognized her. He only knew who it was from the red beads she wore around the base of her tendrils that once dangled from her chin.

Rex barely heard the Centaurs as he reached out and took the head into his hands. His clawed fingers tried to brush the blood away but it was already too old and thick. He caught a glimpse of the light blue scales endemic to their tribe and whimpered.

"I'm sorry." Rex whimpered. "You told me to escape..."

He held the head tight to his chest, uncaring he was covering himself in blood, and wept more tears.

"Are you done yet?" The Centaur asked softly. Two more Centaurs began to speak but the leader silenced them with a raise of his hand. "Or do I need to keep going? Xertank wants proof that all of the Myradons are gone. And all that's left..." He levied his spear towards Rex, still clutching the severed head of his mother. "Is you."

Rex slowly placed the head down. Like the Centaur said he was not one of them. Nor was he a human. Rex, nor his tribe, had ever had the need to label themselves as something but his father had said the others called them Myradons. Their homes were the swamps and creeks, where their long tail bodies could propel them at great speeds through the water. Like the Centaur their bodies changed once they reached their waist but not as dramatic as theirs. The tail morphed into a humanoid torso with two powerful arms and a broad chest, all covered in light blue scales. Rex's scales and fins were particularly pale, thought to be a good omen, but Rex knew now it was anything but.

Slowly he brought his tail into a coil beneath his upper body as his fins pulled tight to his body. Though he was young he was still strong. Stronger than the Centaurs but nowhere near as fast, nor did he have any weapons.

"Time to end this, boy." The lead Centaur raised his spear above his head. “I think you’ve had enough. If you want to blame and curse someone, blame Xertank. They’re the ones who wanted you gone. Curse them with everything you have left.”

Rex said nothing and gripped his hands tight, casting his eyes slightly down. The lead Centaur clicked his tongue and readied his long spear. He stepped forward, Rex remained perfectly stationary, reared up and readied to stab him with his muscles and weight. Rex bared his teeth and lunged at the Centaur, using his coiled tail like a spring. For the briefest moment he saw the look of surprise on his face, that something he thought dead was fighting back. As Rex swung his clawed fingers something struck his side. His breath left him, he collided with the lower body of the lead Centaur and spun away.

“W…”

Rex landed on the grass. From his side a small knife stuck out. The blade had not pierced deep into this skin, his slaves had stopped that, but the shock still caused him to stumble.

“That was stupid of me.” The lead Centaur nodded to the other. “Thanks. It would have been…”

His head twitched, he frowned and began to reach to the back of his head. Blood stained his fingers.

“What-”

The third Centaur dropped to the ground in a heap. His head was missing, just a profusely bleeding stump.

A terrible crack followed. Rex curled his body tight and looked fearfully to the sky. Lightning terrified him, even at his age, but the clear blue skies held no sign of any cloud.

“Where did-”

The second Centaur’s head exploded. The shower of gore and bone scattered across the grass and stone. He too staggered and fell, a mere breath passed and another crack followed.

“Show yourself!” The lead Centaur brandished his spear. “Do you want to save a Myradon? Their tribe-”

His chest exploded outward. Not even a strangled cry emanated before he crashed onto Rex. The Centaurs' weight pushed down onto his lungs, strangling his breath and pinning him.

“I-” Rex’s claws dug into the ground and tried to pull him out. Even his tail thrashed but there was nothing it could grasp onto. “They told me to live.”

Rex could barely breathe as his wounds and the Centaur’s weight continued to push down on him.

“They gave me…They gave...”

As a darkness began to overcome his thoughts and sight he heard a faint whining noise. He gave everything to struggle free but he could not break free. As his breaths failed him the last thing he heard was muffled speaking and the sounds of heavy boots walking towards him.

]---[]---[

Rex awoke to a faint croak of a tiny frog, similar to the annoying little creatures that lived underneath logs, but something was different. It was a much higher pitch and ended abruptly. Every part of his body hurt and his arms and tails refused to move.

Where...What happened? Mon? Dad? Where...No!

Rex’s eyes shot open. He was not in his home, now a torched ruin, but in a place he had never seen before. He lay in a bed, not long enough to accommodate his outstretched tail so it had been curled near the end. One of his hands lay on top of the bed sheets, made from a light blue fabric of such fine weaving that Rex would have only believed it to be made by the gods. As he delicately ran a claw over it he realised not even a single fibre or weave was out of place. Metal poles formed a railing, like the light blue fabric he laid they too were immaculately and perfectly smooth.

The small frog croaked again, except it did not come from any animal. To the side of his strange bed, rested a large metal box, covered in dozens of small fireflies and bright embers all contained within small circles behind the metal surface.

“No…” Rex’s throat hurt. He shakily brought his free hand to his throat only to find a bandage wrapped tight against his scales. It was no simple piece of hessian, similar to the bed sheet but incredibly soft. Rex dared not remove it when he already understood so little.

His eyes turned back to the bright box. Some of the embers went out only to return the next moment. To the side a small green line bounced up and down across a black obsidian material. Some strange symbols lay in the top right hand corner, changing slowly and sometimes returning to its original state.

Think Rex. Your father…

Rex felt a tear roll down his face.

Dad’s gone. But what he taught me isn’t. Learn from your surroundings before you act.

He slowly pulled himself up onto an extremely soft pillow, in between bouts of pain shooting down his tail and simply observed the room. Apart from the bed and the strange metal contraption there was surprisingly little. White glossy tiles covered the floor, immaculately laid and clean. So too was the ceiling. Four large rectangular protrusions emitted a cold white light that hurt Rex’s eyes to look at them. Doing so for more than a few moments involuntarily brought his second eyelid out. Though it blurred his vision it was enough to lessen the pain. Rex quickly turned his attention elsewhere.

To his right sat a series of white cabinets, made from wood rather than metal or ceramic. One door lay partially open. Rex blinked, his second eyelid retreated, and he could make out dozens of small glass vials. Markings covered them, similar to those on the metal box but Rex did not understand them. Beside the cabinets lay a sink and three stools, the stands were made from metal but the top was a white smooth material. At the far end of the room lay a door, perfectly rectangular with a piece of glass running along one side. Rex could not see through as it was quite opaque, though he could just make out a corner of a hallway beyond.

“What is this place?” Rex whispered. He shuffled up but found his left hand was attached to something.

He pulled it free from the sheet. A thin tube ran from the back of his hand to a bag hanging from a metal stand containing a faintly purple liquid. Again Rex could not read the writing covering the bag but he didn’t like it.

“What is it doing?” Rex mumbled as he picked the piece of fastly stuck white cloth. Eventually he pried it free and stared at the thin metal needle. “Who...Who did this?”

He tapped a slightly loose scale, underneath which the needle had been placed. Rex pulled himself up and grabbed the purple bag. It was soft in his hands and he could tell he could easily rip it with just a slight squeeze underneath his claws. He ripped the tube out and allowed the droplets to pool in his hands. Myradon’s had an exceptional sense of smell, otherwise they would never have been able to hunt for food in the foul and pungent smelling swamps, and Rex was no exception.

Smells...Smells awful.

Rex spluttered and wiped the liquid on the bed, placing the bag to the side of his pillow.

Smells worse than what that Witch Doctor brew up for me when I was sick...I wonder if she survived?

The metal box began making a different noise. Unlike before it now croaked frantically, the circular lights had now turned red and blinked furiously. Beyond the door he could hear faint footsteps. For a terrifying moment he thought they were Centaur’s hooves but they belonged to something with two legs.

Like the Pig-Men we used to hunt together...I’ll never be able to taste their flesh with my tribe, my family again…

Rex gnashed his teeth together, a trait he had inherited from his mother when she was anxious, and threw the bed sheets away. His tail lay along the bed, his wounds had been closed with small stitches and metal bands. They had been fastened to his intact scales and pulled his flesh together so it would heal.

“Someone helped me...But who? The same people that brought me to this place?” Rex flexed his tail. His muscles hurt but it quickly became bearable. “Is this the realm of the gods? What would they want with me?”

Rex flung his body over the edge and slowly let his tail touch the floor. The cold sent a shiver along his body and up to his neck, causing his fins to spread out.

Rex crouched down and gently rubbed the smooth, cold surface. “I won’t be able to move for long on this. There’s no heat coming from those white steady flames?” He looked at the long rectangular lights above him, just long enough for his second eyelid to start to slide over. “How is it so bright yet so cold?”

The footsteps began to draw closer. Rex flexed his arms and hands. His body, while sore, had not diminished while he had been sleeping. If the people outside were Pig-Men, Humans, or something else he was confident that he could beat them.

“I could almost beat my father.” Rex gripped his hands into a tight fist. “They won’t be a match for me.”

Rex slunk low to the ground instead of partially coiling his long tail body on itself so he could stand tall. The door was just as cool as the floor but slightly more rough. He pressed his face against the glass but couldn’t see anything outside beyond an empty corridor. The footsteps continued to grow closer.

Do I try and run? Or do I wait? I don’t know where I am and I’ll just be roaming these halls...What do I do?

A decision was made for him. The footsteps stopped right before the door. Rex quickly retreated from the door and looked to the bed. It was clear that he could not hide underneath nor pretend that he hadn’t been moving. The bag containing the purple liquid had continued to leak and had completely soaked the bed. Rex clicked his tongue and moved to the other side of the door. While so little of this made no sense he understood hinges, even if he’d never seen one made from metal.

Two voices spoke as Rex pulled his tail body flush against the wall. It was incomprehensible to him but he knew it was two females speaking, soft and gentle voices. For a moment Rex almost released his tension but quickly reminded himself that some of the most dangerous hunters were female Myradons.

The metal handle clicked and the door opened with only the tiniest squeak. Rex readied his claws as two people entered. They were not Myradons, not that Rex expected that, but they weren’t centaurs. One wore a white, long sleeved shirt and pants, thick green gloves and shoes, and a mask that obscured all facial features. The other was taller but Rex could see her face. She looked like a human, at least how Rex had imagined them in the stories he read when he was younger; no scales but a near pitch black smooth skin. She had long black hair that rolled over a bulky black shirt with a dark green vest. From above her ears rose two short blue horns, a little less than a hand-span long with a lighter line signifying a swirl travelling up the length. Her dark eyes, where there should have been white Rex saw a deep purple, scanned the room and frowned angrily. The Blue Horned Woman began shouting, angrily, and pointed to his bed. Rex pulled his scales back reflexively and watched the two begin to argue rapidly.

Why haven’t they searched-

The Blue Horned Woman stepped forward and turned to look behind the door. Mustering all the strength he could Rex pushed off the wall and lunged at her. The Blue Horned Woman was faster and pulled back, grabbing the white clothed woman with her. Rex slammed into the door and pushed it out into the corridor, smashing through the frame and breaking one of its hinges. The two women skidded along the smooth floor, the Blue Horned Woman held the other until they began to slow. She reached for something attached to her hip, a long rectangular piece of dull metal and pointed it at Rex. He didn’t wait to find out her intentions and fled down the white corridor. She yelled something at him but Rex didn’t understand her.

“Which way?” Rex said aloud, uncaring that no one was going to respond.

A humanoid stepped out of a room, the door identical to the room that held Rex, somewhat like the Blue Horned Woman but without the horns but dressed in a thin sheet of semi-transparent blue cloth covering most of their frail body. Beside them was another humanoid dressed like the other woman though this was clearly a man with a long furred tail. They saw Rex just before he crashed into them and pulled back to the door. The frail humanoid looked very shaken by the sudden movement. Rex tried to smile as he slithered past, to apologise, but it probably had the opposite effect.

Rex came to a cross junction. His eyes darted down each hallway but each looked identical.

“Damn it. Which...Which way is the right one?”

Rex’s eyes fell upon painted symbols on the walls. Different coloured arrows pointed along the hallways but he couldn’t understand what the symbols above meant.

“Is that...Going down?” Rex placed his hand on the wall, his claws scratching at the surface in annoyance. “Is that a good thing? Am I underground? No. I can’t be. It’s too bright…”

Rex gnashed his teeth. He glanced above him, towards the rectangular lights. With those he had no idea where he could be.

A set of thumping boots brought his fins up in surprise. The Blue Horned Woman ran after him. She waved towards his right. Rex readied a fighting stance but glanced to the right anyway. Running along the corridor were another two humanoids, one was very large but both carried a larger version of the dull metal object the Blue Horned Woman wielded in her hand. Rex did not like those things, how they held them like weapons, and fled down the corridor across from the Blue Horned Woman. Rex knew it would take the other two a few moments to reach the junction where they would have to slow and turn.

Those with legs can’t turn as fast as us! Those Pig-Men could never hope to catch us, even when we weren’t hiding in the swamps.

Rex slithered as fast as he could down the smooth surface, his tail body’s muscles working as hard as they could to keep him moving. His scales did not provide him much traction and worse still his tail began to feel wet. With a single glance back he saw a trail of blood following him, droplets pooling on the end of his tail. He stopped and held the end. The strain of moving so quickly had opened the stitches on the underside of his tail.

Fuck! We used to hunt creatures like this! Father would be so angry to see me like this.

Rex continued to flee down the corridor, trying his best to keep his tail off the floor, as the three people continued to chase him. The Blue Horned Woman grabbed the other two, they too were women, and dragged them along the corridor. She shouted something after him, frantically waving her hands, her face looked extremely pained and worried, but Rex still could not understand her.

The hallway branched again but only sideways, with a large glass window just down the right corridor. Rex did not understand what he was seeing; a dizzying array of lights and strange structures lay beyond, huge vertical rectangular stone buildings hanging from a ceiling made from metal and lights. Thousands of tiny lights darted about in utter chaos, swarming around the buildings and large metal spires coming from the ground. Rex leant closer to the window, the sounds of the approaching three became incredibly distant. Below lay even more vertical buildings. However he could not see the ground, some of the buildings began jut out at strange angles, some horizontal while others again downwards. Incredibly bright sides shone in the depths, Rex was certain some were showing types of food through the flickering lights.

“This isn’t the swamp.” Rex muttered. “This must be the realm of the gods. Perhaps the underworld-”

The Blue Horned Woman shouted again. As she began to slow Rex saw groups of white clothed humanoids approaching from either side of the corridors. They too held the dull metal objects but theirs were smaller and their tips coloured yellow.

Rex pulled himself against the window. He looked out and saw a ledge below, marked with small poles with a bright yellow light on top.

The Blue Horned Woman shouted loudly and stopped everyone with a raised hand. She lowered her weapon and urged the others to do so through a harsh whisper. The two with her lowered theirs but those wearing white did not. Rex’s heart began to race as the White Clothes people continued to point their weapons at him. His claws scratched along the glassy surface, with just a light drag it scratched quite deeply.

Maybe I can break through it?

One of the White Clothed people raised their weapon, it clicked and something flew past Rex’s head. Two small needles, attached to a long metal coil, flew out of the weapon. On the other side one of the other White Clothed people shouted. The metal needles had punctured their shirt and their body writhed in pain.

Poison? Like the Vora’s.

Rex’s fins perked up as he clenched his fist and smashed through the glass in one hit. A cacophony of noise flooded in; screeches, howling winds and an innumerable sounds he had no idea what could possibly make them.

The Blue Horned Woman shouted at the White Clothed people and ran at Rex, throwing her dull metal weapon aside. Rex punched the glass at the bottom and hauled himself over. Normally his underside scales were thick and strong enough to deal with nearly any natural sharp edge but he was still wounded. The glass edges nicked and jabbed into his wounds, sending pain through his tail body and sending it spasming over.

A hand grabbed the end of his tail. The Blue Horned Woman held the very end, just the tip of his fins, and tried to pull him back in. She bared her slightly jagged teeth and pulled him back. She was very strong but Rex was much stronger. The blood on his tail slipped through her hands and he landed hard on the ledge. She shouted at him, raising both outstretched hands, quickly speaking in a softer voice.

Is...Is she telling me to stay here?

A White Clothed person stepped around her, with the yellow tipped weapon in hand. Rex felt panic and quickly moved away, slithering along the ledge. The Blue Horn Woman shouted at the White Clothed person before punching them in the gut. Rex stopped and their eyes met. He didn't know what he was seeing. Pain? Anger? Disappointment? Regardless he was not about to stop and continued moving.

The ledge continued along the side of the building. Unlike the inside the exterior was a dull grey, some parts looked very weathered and even rotting, if that was possible for such a hard stone. He only looked down once and nearly stumbled. He could not see the bottom, only a vague bright blue light with seemingly thousands of giant structures chaotically thrown about in every direction, between them were millions of tiny lights moving in lines between the buildings, some going up while others down. What baffled Rex even further was there was nothing obvious that held the buildings in place. They were not attached to the ceiling. More worryingly Rex saw even more bright things above that.

I wish this was a dream. What a story I would have to tell.

Rex continued along the ledge, keeping as close to the wall and avoiding the bright lights, until the ledge opened up to a large platform. Small blinking green and red lights dotted the perimeter along with four large metal boxes at the edges. A white circle had been painted in the centre with a red cross in the centre. Rex had no idea what it could possibly mean. Where the platform attached itself to the building lay another large door, different to the one that Rex had smashed through but still white and the opaque glass.

He saw movement behind the glass. Rex darted to the large metal boxes. They were actually hollow, with a spinning metal fan within. Hot air emerged, bringing warmth and energy to his body. Rex only then realised that the air was quite cold, like a deep cave in winter. Within a few moments strength returned to his body, his blood began to move easier. He clicked his tongue when he realised he had still left a bloody trail to his location. Hiding was pointless in his current state.

The door slid open and The Blue Horned Woman emerged. She did not look angry, rather anxious. One of the White Clothed people pointed to the blood trail. The Blue Horned Woman nodded, held a finger to her ear and spoke.

A sharp pain came from Rex’s back. He grunted and reached back. Something metallic stuck out of his back. He dug around his scales and ripped it free. Despite the blood covering the end it looked like a metal needle with a small vial of green liquid.

The bloodied vial fell from his hand. Strength quickly left his body as he collapsed onto the metal box. The heat bought him a little strength, strength enough to look back. On a nearby building, only a hundred odd tail lengths away, a person crouched, hidden underneath a long grey cloak that obscured all their features, wielding an extremely long dull metal weapon pointing at him. A thin wisp of smoke emerged from the end of the weapon.

It can go very far...Different to…

Rex’s thoughts quickly became muddled as his body collapsed onto the ground and his eyes closed once more.

]---[]---[

Rex’s mind slowly returned. This time his eyes were incredibly heavy and refused to open but he could still hear. Two people were speaking by his side and, bizarrely, he could understand them.

“You’re going to be paying for all of the damages.” A gruff male voice spoke. “Everything. Even my employee-”

“Bullshit I will!” The second voice was female and somewhat familiar. “It’s not my fault that you idiots managed to hit each other with a Taser, now is it? If you lot hadn’t attacked he probably wouldn’t have tried to smash the window.”

“I-”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me!” The woman took an angry, rasping breath. “And I specifically told you to put the translator in before the sedatives wore off. I don’t know what type of reptile species he is but you know, and I know you do, that they’re all very resistant to drugs and anaesthetics. So who’s fault is it that he couldn’t understand me? Hmm?”

The male voice spluttered. “I don’t have time to deal with this. I’ll send you the bill.”

“Like another bill means anything to me right now. And don’t you worry, I’ll send it right back with a grenade attached. Or maybe even an AI virus. That would be fun for you and this little place, now wouldn’t it?”

“Are you threatening me?”

The woman groaned. “For a doctor you really are an idiot. We’ll be going the moment we can. And don’t think we’ll be back.”

“Good. You never pay your bills on time anyway.” A door creaked open. “If you aren’t gone by nine I’m calling security forces and have you thrown out.”

“You’re definitely going to be waiting a long time for that money.” The woman said snidely. “But we’ll be gone. Now go back to your holo-vids. I’m sure that man, pretending to be a little girl, is waiting for you to come back.”

The man blustered again and slammed the door shut. The woman scoffed.

“If only that creep focused more on his work more than those damned things, he might actually be successful.”

Rex forced his eyes open. Slowly the second eyelid receded and his vision returned to normal. He was back in one of the strange beds, not the same one he left, but there were a few differences. This time there was no needle attached to his hand. Instead a metal cuff lay fastened tight around both of his wrists. A metal chain attached them to the railings.

Rex moved his hand and the metal clinked. He winced, knowing the woman was less than a meter away. He resigned himself and opened his eyes fully. He was only somewhat surprised to see The Blue Horned Woman sitting by the side of the bed.

“Hey there.” She smiled, her slightly jagged teeth showing through her dark lips. “How are you feeling.”

Rex frowned. He tried to pull his hands to his chest but the cuffs stopped him.

“Those…” The Blue Horned Woman almost chuckled. “Those are for your protection, as well as ours. They’re not going to let you get out again. Not, not without being shot. And I don’t think you want that.”

“Crossbows hurt.” Rex's frown deepened. “H-How can I understand you? You...You were shouting at me before.” Rex raised a hand so the metal clinked. “But I couldn’t understand you.”

He looked for the bag of light purple liquid but found nothing.

The Blue Horned Woman lent forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You were supposed to have an implant put into your head. A custom translation chip. So those bastards can hack into it…” She laughed, lightly slapping her legs. “This is all just gibberish to you, isn’t it? You just said crossbow rather than gun.”

“What’s a gun?”

The Blue Horned Woman’s face softened. “Let’s start properly. My name is Datreon.”

She looked at Rex. He quickly understood what she was waiting for.

“Rex. I...Have not received a last name. I was not old enough when…” Rex shot up. Datreon moved to restrain him but hesitated. Compared to him she was extremely frail, though Rex did not care for that fact. “What happened?! My family…”

Tears rolled down his face as his shoulders dropped. “My family, my tribe, were slaughtered by the Centaurs.”

Datreon slowly nodded. “We found you on patrol, attacked by a group of three Centaurs. Wish wanted to save you, I thought it was cruel-”

“Wish?”

“That’s…” Datreon pulled an awkward face. “That was the woman that shot you.” She reached behind and tapped her back. “The tranquiliser dart. She had to make a strong batch for you, since you’re a reptile-”

“Myradon.” Rex softly said. Datreon stopped and waited. “That’s what the Centaur’s called us...Where are they?”

“That…That is difficult to explain, to say the least.” Datreon tapped her boot on the hard floor. “But I can tell you that they aren’t here and there’s absolutely zero chance that they can get here. Of that I can assure you.”

“How can I believe you?” Rex asked softly.

Datreon frowned lightly. “I actually don’t know. But...You have to. We were the ones that patched you up, so that counts for something. Right?”

She pointed to the many stitches and strange bandages on his body.

“So you owe us for those at the very least.”

“Thank you.” Rex gently scratched those on the side of his chest. “Thank you. I think I would have bled out if you hadn’t.”

Datreon smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Now, we need to leave soon.” She reached into her pocket and produced a small metal key. “Now...I know that you can speak and hold a conversation with me, so I know you’re not a wild beast, but can I trust you to not try and escape again?”

“I had no idea where I was.” Rex frowned. “The last thing I remember I was being crushed by a Centaur’s dead body. What did you think I was going to do when I woke up here?”

“I hoped the doctors had done their job.” Datreon said softly. “But they hadn’t. So...You couldn’t understand me.”

“So where is here?” Rex looked to the rectangular lights. “Is this the afterlife or the underworld? I thought I wasn’t that bad when I was still alive.”

Datreon laughed. “You aren’t dead. Far from it.” She held the key up and held it above the cuff on his wrist. “You...Can I trust you?”

Rex nodded. There was also a second cuff, so he could not escape even if she did remove one.

“You are in a place called Aranck.” Datreon raised his hand. Despite her dark skin her hand was incredibly warm. “Think of it as a...For someone that doesn’t know about electricity…”

“What’s that?”

Datreon smiled as she turned the key. The cuff clicked and fell away.

“As I said, there’s a lot you don’t know.” She raised her hands and stood up. “But think of Aranck as a type of floating city. Yes. That would be the best way to describe it.” She smiled and moved to his other side, holding the small key tight in her hand. “A city, a massive city, that floats through space and allows us to connect, to travel, to different worlds. And we just happened to be on your world when we found you.”

“Doing what?” Rex watched the key enter the cuff’s lock. “What could you want with our tribe?”

“Your world is bigger than just a swamp.” Datreon unlocked his last restraint. “Much bigger. We were acting as guards for Xertank-”

“What?”

Rex tried to grab her but Datreon was faster. His claws found the edge of her bulky vest and snagged. He pulled her closer and held her just beneath her throat, lifting her from the ground. Datreon was quite surprised but not afraid, even as her legs danced back and forth. Her eyes flicked down as Rex felt something cold pressed against his chest. The dull grey metal weapon touched his scales, right where his heart lay.

“Who are they?” Rex did not relinquish his hold. “That Centaur told me to curse them.” He grip tightened, the clothes around her neck began to fray underneath his grip. “And you work for this Xertank? They killed everyone!”

“Wait!” Datreon nervously laughed. “Xertank isn’t a person. It’s a company. A lousy company, but they pay well.”

She patted his arm with her free hand. Rex slowly placed her down but did not relinquish his hold.

“Xertank is a multi-planetary-”

“I don’t understand those words!”

Rex lifted her up again. Datreon pushed the metal weapon against his chest again. Rex took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“Explain it to me in a way that I can understand.”

“They...They’re like a massive trading company.” Datreon spoke as calmly as the situation allowed her. “They own a lot. I mean a lot. But they’re not even in the top ten largest companies in Aranck.”

Rex tightened his grip.

“We were hired to protect a mining operation on your world. A large one. Wish detected movement at the perimeter, that’s where we found you. We thought…” Datreon groaned. “I thought it was sad that you were being picked on by those Centaurs. So we killed them and brought you here.”

Rex lowered her and loosened his grip. “Why? If you both work for the same person, no, the same group?”

Datreon tried to pull away but Rex still had a hold on her vest. “Because the Centaurs broke the deal with Xertank. They weren’t supposed to attack your tribe. So it didn’t matter what we did. Not that we-”

“What are you saying?” Rex pulled her closer. “They just wanted to kill us? Destroy everyone? Not to hunt but just for its own sake?!”

“I don’t know.” Datreon looked to a small light above his bed. “I don’t know why they did what they did. But we don’t have much longer before that doctor comes back. And if security forces find you in here they’re probably going to tell Xertank and then who knows what’s going to happen.”

“So…” Rex glanced to the door. “Can I go home?”

“No.” Datreon said softly. “No. Not for another...Eight or so years.”

She did not budge when Rex glared at her angrily. “It’s hard to explain but we cannot return. We were hired by Xertank when they were finish the mining operation since the gateways were beginning to collapse. But Aranck has already moved too far away.”

“How can a city move?” Rex completely released his hold. “Even one as large as this.”

Datreon smiled. “There is a lot to show you. But the only way is to wait until Aranck come close to your world again. Or...Perhaps speak to one of the other Corporations. They might be able to-”

“Take me to them!” Rex pulled himself to the edge of the bed. “I need to get back.”

Datreon removed her metal weapon from his side. “Slow down, Scaly. You can’t just ask one of the most powerful organisations in Aranck just to force open a gateway to your world. There are millions out there; they’d have to find your world and then have to spend a lot of time and money to get the gateway to function. Do you have any money?”

“What...No. I have nothing to barter with them.”

Datreon smiled. “Well then. That puts you into a bind, doesn’t it? You can’t just barter in Aranck, not that you have anything. But I might have a solution.”

“Are you going to give me money?”

Datreon laughed. “No.” She waved in front of her face, trying her best to suppress her wild smile. “Not exactly. But I can offer you employment. We…” Her face darkened. “We aren’t doing so well. No one will join us and...I know it’s bad to say but I was hoping that you could join us. We need the numbers and I saw you fight.”

Datreon almost looked like she was about to have a mental break. “We need everything we can get. Otherwise...Otherwise it’s not going to be good for any of us. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Rex rubbed his scaled brow hard. “I don’t see how I could be of any use to you.” Rex pointed to the strange metal box, no longer beeping or flashing any lights. In fact all of the lights had gone out. “I don’t know what that is. Or what’s making those lights above us. How could...How could I do anything?”

“You’d be surprised how quickly you can learn things.” Datreon smiled. “But I’m not a slaver, nor am I going to put a Compliance chip in your head. So I’m not going to force you to do anything. But just know this before you leap out of that bed. No one is going to hire you when they know nothing about you. You can try your luck but it won’t be long before you’re begging in the Markets. And beggars don’t last long down there. Not long...So. What’s it going to be?”

“You...You promise me that there is a way that I can get back to my world?”

“Yes. I promise you.” Dareton’s voice did not waver nor did her eyes leave his. “There is a way. Expensive, but there is a way.”

“And you can pay me by working for you?”

“Yes. We work as mercenaries. And we each get paid for completing a job. It’s very simple. Do what we’re asked to do and get money. You can spend it on whatever you want.”

“I see…”

Just like the Imirt’s. They worked for food and gold. Not that we ever had such need of things.

“Alright.” Rex looked at the lights above him. “You seem very worried by that. Do we need to leave now?”

“Pretty much.” Datreon clapped her hands together. “So you’ll help us?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, now do I?”

“You always have a choice.” Datreon smiled. “Just not always the ones you want.”

“I...Where do we go?” Rex threw off the bedsheet. “I don’t have anything-”

“First we need to get you some clothes.” Datreon ran to the white cupboards. “You can’t just walk...Slither around naked.”

“But this is how we always are.” Rex looked down to his chest. “Wearing cloth only hampers us when we’re hunting or trying to warm ourselves in the sun. Do you want me to cover myself in mud?”

“Mud?” Datreon stopped her searching and turned back to him, utterly confused.

“Yes. It helps us to blend in with the swamp.” Rex raised his arm. “My scales are quite light, so it’s easy to see.”

“Certainly not like that.” Datreon laughed. “Something more like what I’m wearing. I told the doctor, that creep, to get you something that fits your body type. You are the first reptile species to arrive in Aranck.”

“There are other Myradons?” Rex rocked to the other side of the bed. “Others like me?”

“I don’t think so.” Datreon retrieved a set of clothes. “You’re the only one I’ve seen. There might be...But Aranck is a very, very big place.”

“I see.” Rex’s fins fell flat against his body. “I see…”

Datreon passed Rex the clothes. He placed the pile down and held the shirt aloft. He marvelled at the quality of the stitching, again far beyond anything he had seen before. He lowered it and saw Datreon smirking at him.

“What?”

“First time you’ve seen clothes?”

“No…” Rex rubbed it between his fingers, careful not to catch his sharp claws. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Well hurry up and put it on. We’ve only got a few minutes before they get rid of us.”

Rex gave a nod. It was a struggle to put the shirt as it pushed down his fins in unnatural ways. However he finally managed to get it on, though all of his fins were lying flat on one side.

“This…” Rex flexed his arms. “This feels very strange. Feels like I’m being suffocated.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Datreon smiled and pointed to the last piece of cloth. “But you need to put that on as well. It might actually be worse if you wear a shirt but not anything down there.”

Rex looked down. He maneuvered his tail body to the edge. “Is there something wrong with this? I don’t have feet, like you-”

“Not like that.” Datreon laughed nervously. “But...You have to eventually...You know…”

Rex blinked.

Datreon scrunched her face and grabbed her blue horns. “When you have to piss. Piss. You know. You’re a man, so it comes out of a thing at the front. Right?”

“Oh…” Rex looked down. “Yes. But it’s normally-”

“Just!” Datreon took a deep breath, closing her eyes and raising both hands. “Please just put that other thing on. Please.”

I don’t see what the problem is. Every male Myradon has one, so...So what’s the problem? We don’t do it in front of others. Maybe that’s it?

“I wouldn’t do that in front of someone.” Rex said softly as he pulled out what looked to be a large sheet. He quickly realised it was to wrap around his tail body just underneath the bottom of his shirt. “No Myradon would do something so disrespectful just after meeting someone...Even if-”

“Please just put it on.” Datreon shook her head and looked away. “Tell me when you’re done.”

This piece of cloth was much easier to put on than the shirt. It gave his spinal fin more room to bend, unlike the constricting shirt.

“Okay. It’s on.”

“Good.” Datreon smiled as she gave a quick nod. “Perfect. You won’t attract so much attention now...Oh. Time’s up.” She pointed to the light. “A few minutes before we have to leave. Let’s go.”

Datreon opened the door and waited for him. Rex pulled his body completely over, coiling his tail and resting his body above. When he rested normally he was slightly taller than Datreon, something she noted too.

“You’re perfect.” She smiled. “Now, come on. We have a car waiting for us.”

Datreon held the door open until Rex passed through. His body lurched back slightly when he saw four of the White Clothed people standing just beyond, all wielding the yellow tipped weapons.

“Don’t worry about the security.” Datreon patted his shoulder. “They’re just a bit anxious after you just thrashed them.”

But...I just ran away.

Rex didn’t push his luck and followed Datreon. Her boots clacked softly on the white tiles, his tail body made a slight rustling as his scales dragged across the smooth floor. Thankfully none of the stitches ruptured this time. He slowed as he approached the door. Beyond he could see the platform where he had been captured for the second time. Instead of being empty a long metal object floated above the platform, it looked identical to the thousands of tiny lights that darted between the strange buildings. A bright circular lights lay attached to each of the corners which blew out tiny plumes of dust.

“It’s called a Van.” Datreon said with fake pride. “At least that’s what Aurélie calls it. I think it’s a piece of junk. But it always works.”

Rex saw three people standing outside. Two he recognised from inside the corridors, the other wore a full dark grey cloak with a long metal weapon on her back.

“That’s the one that shot me?” Rex asked softly.

“Only because we didn’t have another way of getting you under control.” Datreon clapped her hands together. “Okay. This will be the last time that I ask but I don’t want-”

Rex raised his hand to stop her. “My father told me never to back down from my word. And I’m not going to.”

“He sounds like a good ma...A good father.”

“He was.” Rex took a slow and deep breath. “He was.”

Datreon slowly nodded. “I haven’t told you our name yet, have I?”

She pushed the door open, the cacophony of noise came back but somehow it was more bearable. Datreon beamed with pride as she pointed her outstretched hand towards the three people waiting patiently, they stood more upright when they realised they were being watched.

“Welcome, Rex, to Squad Six Eight Five. Mercenary contractors, Security and Problem solvers: No problem too big or small for us.” Datreon smirked. “And our happy little family. Come on. That asshole doctor isn’t going to wait forever." Datreon began to walk towards the others. "We'll get you something to eat too. You must be hungry by now, right?”

Rex hesitated for a moment. He had no idea if Datreon spoke the truth, about anything, but he did know she and this Squad was the best chance of surviving and getting home. He took a deep breath and followed, hoping with all his heart that he would see his home once again.

Volume 05 - Chapter 27 - Thessos

"It should be just around this hill." Cetina's fingers trembled as she pointed forward. "I recognize this place. I remember these trees around that boulder. I used to come here when I was a child."

"Did you run or ride?" Anton asked.

"Ride." Cetina smiled as she stroked the neck of her horse. "But he was only a little horse back then. That wasn’t that long ago too, now was it?"

Beyond the hill a line of snowcapped mountains loomed, nearly identical to the mountain range to the north of Atros. The land beyond that belonged to the Deweth Clansmen, savage raiders that pillaged the lowlands for spoils and slaves. Anton knew they were not all monstrous raiders.

I wonder how Ivano and Brenna are doing. If they're still alive after their failure to invade Qaiviel. It would be a terrible shame if their heads were mounted on spikes for failing a...I guess it really wasn't foolish. They just didn't know we would interfere, let alone that we exist.

"Do you think they'll remember you?" Verona asked. "They should, you haven't been gone that long."

Cetina grimaced. "It certainly feels like it has." She ran a finger along the horizontal scar across her nose. "Maybe someone will remember me. If they're still there."

Anton did not want to unnecessarily raise her hopes only to have them dashed. Though the stone cobble road was in good condition they had passed many small homes and hamlets that looked abandoned. Smaller villages, roughly a hundred or more people, still operated with life as the cold crept further, but Anton could feel that everyone was living on edge, that they were ready to run at a moment’s notice.

"No word of any more of those Demons." Kal said. She adjusted her mask and hood. "We never found where their corpses went. Or those blades."

"I bet those would make some good blades." Verona mused. "They'd look pretty menacing too, just because of how red they are."

"Like you?" Anton said snidely.

Verona leant over and tried to kick his leg, only skimming the surface. She pouted, refusing his attempts to play back until it finally cracked and she smiled. Anton was glad the red tattoos had not covered more of her body. Already half was completely covered and he did want her back to the pale, smooth white skin from when they first met.

"Just over this ridge." Cetina gripped her reins nervously. "And then we'll see..."

Cetina stopped when she reached the summit. Her horse protested slightly but she did not care, all of her attention was focused forward.

At the base of the mountains, nestled between two mountains slightly shorter than the others of the ridgeline, lay a fortress. Thessos was larger than Anton expected, only slightly smaller than the Black Rider fortress in Qaiviel, with many tall spires and battlements, covered in slanted rooves and tiny slots to loose arrows from. Beyond the fortress walls large snow covered fields and plantations radiated onto the rolling hills below, sparsely broken up by small woods. Much to their collective relief small trailer of smoke rose from the fortress, not what one would expect from a fortress that had been destroyed.

"They're still alive." Sheso said happily. "Those Clansmen must really have been driven off."

Cetina pointed between the two mountains, where a harsh but traversable slope led deeper behind the mountain range.

"That's where they come from." Cetina softly sighed. "Charging down like a raging bull. That's also where the strongest defenses are."

Kal moved her mask away and focused her eyes on Thessos. "The outer walls have taken some serious damage, especially what I can see of the far side."

Cetina took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

"But I can see movement within."

"How?" Cetina turned to Kal. "Oh. Right. You can do that enhanced vision thing too. I forget that sometimes."

Kal smiled as she scrunched her eyes tight. They darted about as she regained her bearing.

"It's not going to get any better just standing here." Cetina said loudly before ushering her horse forward. Anton did not know if it was for her or them, but he had a very good idea.

---[]---

“And who are you?” The Thessos guard asked loudly.

The men outside the small iron gate wore a selection of armour appropriate for the cold climate; thick linen gambeson over woollen clothes, the rough material jutted out around their neck. Their metal helmets were padded heavily and their halberds had strange handles along the shaft, Anton guessed so they could be gripped easily even slick with wet snow.

“I…” Cetina gripped the reins hard. “I am Cetina de Yascar. My father was Duran de Yascar. Is there anyone left from my family still alive in Thessos?”

The guards shared a glance then looked intently at Cetina.

“Maybe it’d be better if you remove your helmet,” Anton said softly. “You don’t have as many scars as you did when you left.”

Cetina still had the horizontal scar across her nose but, when they first met her face was covered in dozens of tiny nicks and old cuts. Her distinctive black and patchy blue hair was also hidden by her helmet. Apparently, her grey and purple flecked eye counted for nothing. She had both eyes when she had left.

Cetina unfastened her helmet. “Will this be enough to prove it?”

The guards were taken aback when they saw her hair. They quickly whispered amongst themselves before the leader coughed loudly.

“Forgive me, Cetina de Yascar, but I am not originally from Thessos. Most of us aren’t.” The guard sighed. “Many people died when the Clansmen attacked. Many more were wounded and still require healing.”

Anton looked to the wooden roof on top of the stone wall. Almost all was burned black, little more than charred sticks, with repairs only having just started. The buildings beyond were obscured by the wall but Anton guessed they too were in ruin.

“But…” The guard scratched his neck, pulling away the wool rubbing against his skin. “But less than we feared. Just a few days ago nearly all of the captives were freed.”

“Allowed to walk back from the edge of the winter snow.” Another guard said softly.

“Well, everyone except for one.” The first guard said. “It’d be best if you spoke with Ines de Yascar. She’ll be able to tell you more.”

Cetina’s eye widened, a slight smile crept up her lips. “That’s my aunt.”

“Was she…” Verona rolled her hand. “Corrupted, like your father?”

“Not the most elegant way to put it.” Kal murmured. Verona shrugged, delicacy wasn’t her strong point.

“No.” Cetina smiled. “She was always nice. So was Gavriel. Is he alive?”

“Best you ask Ines.” The guard whistled and the iron gate began to open. “She’ll explain everything.”

Anton understood the implication, so too did Cetina. The guards stepped to the side and allowed them in. Cetina took a deep breath, her shoulders tensed as they slowly trotted inside. She whimpered as the devastation within the city became clear. Just like the roof the buildings were burned black and nothing less than spindly remains. Some stone buildings were still standing but they too were heavily damaged. Large sheets of cloth were strung between the stronger surviving beams to shield those beneath from the ever-present snow. They huddled in groups around tiny fires, piles of ruined lay beside for kindling, but didn’t hold the eyes of the defeated. People that were on the edge of despair would not laugh and make jokes.

“It actually doesn’t look that bad.” Sheso said softly. Cetina looked at her. “Our Clan was much worse when you found us.”

“I remember the looks of the children.” Anton continued. “They smiled, but the moment the adults looked away it all faded, like they knew it was the end.”

Calo laughed. “If only they knew what, who rather, was coming?”

“Yeah…” Cetina caught the attention of a patrolling group of guards. “Where can we find Ines de Yascar?”

The guards directed them to the highest point of Thessos, a tall castle rising high above the city. The mountain range beyond, the border with the Deweth Clans, loomed over the castle, their white caps almost blindingly bright in the winter sun.

“I never thought I’d be heading back.” Cetina whispered. Anton reached out and held her hand. Her resolve hardened as she returned a squeeze. “It’s just a building. It’s not my home anymore.”

As they neared the central castle the situation of the people of Thessos began to improve dramatically. People were rebuilding, food distributed from guarded supplies and tents were filled with the wounded being heavily tended to. Anton wanted to stop and help but there would be time for such things later. The medical staff wouldn’t allow some stranger to cast magic upon the wounded anyway, what if he was some sort of twisted necromancer?

Thessos soldiers watched them like a hawk as they waited at the final gate. These were better equipped than those at the perimeter, far more complete armour with a small bow on their backs. Unlike normal soldiers these could fight competently at range and in melee. Anton remembered the Deweth Clansmen were lacking in ranged weaponry and the few they had were javelins.

“It’s a good idea.” Anton murmured. He received an odd look from Verona. “Fighting at range. But I don’t know how they would compare to the Clansmen in fighting in the snow.”

“They don’t do that well either.” Cetina replied. She studied the soldiers intently as they too watched them. “But they have more experience.”

“Camouflage…” Anton held his chin. “Ulyaa’s silk has a very light colour. Wouldn’t be too difficult to dye it completely white. Then we’d be extremely hard to find.”

Cetina smiled faintly as she noticed movement behind the iron gate. A large cadre of soldiers escorted a single woman, draped in thick furs and a cap made from some sort of white fox pelt. For a terrible moment Anton thought Eluria was standing before them, her location was still unknown, but he quickly remembered that Cetina was the odd one of their original group. Like the majority of the guards and soldiers their faces were rounded, more so than most of the Bebbezzarians he’d seen, along with a dusty red hair.

“Cetina?” The woman rushed to the iron gate. “Is that you?”

“Ines!” Cetina jumped from her horse. “You’re alive!”

The guards moved to bar Cetina’s way but Ines waved them aside. She ordered the gate opened as Anton signalled for them to dismount. Verona dismounted the loudest, the Dark Elf twins landed like a feather and with just as much noise. Strangely the two hadn’t drawn too much attention despite having such dark skin.

“I thought you would be dead by now.” The guards tried to bar Cetina’s way but Ines again waved them aside. “How long has it been?”

Cetina stopped a mere foot from her aunt. “A long time.” Cetina broke out a tiny smile. “I thought that I’d never see Thessos again. Although…” Cetin weakly nodded to the destroyed buildings. “I never thought I’d see Thessos in such a state.”

Ines smiled. “I...There is much to talk about.” She looked around Cetina to Anton, her eyes narrowed on him. “And who are your...Companions? And why are you travelling with two Dark Elves? And only one man?”

“I have found employment after…” Cetina sighed. “Things turned for the worst. I am currently acting as Anton’s bodyguard, helping him with his mission.”

“Among other things.” Verona said softly, keeping her face perfectly straight.

“And the Dark…” Ines closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sure there’s a good reason. Please, come in. All of you. I would like to speak with all of you.”

---[]---

"That is quite a tale." Ines said softly. A cool wind blew down from the mountain, Ines pulled her fur scarf tight around her neck. "To think that you've made a trip around the continent. And visited the Dwarven Isles too."

Cetina smiled. "It wasn't what I planned...I didn't have one at the beginning. But it's all worked out."

Anton was glad she had omitted Atros and the Beastkin but she had told her aunt of their involvement in the Qaiviel Civil War. She was not happy the only living member of her husband's brother’s side of the family would risk her life in something that didn't involve her but Cetina had been adamant it was the right thing to do.

"And what's happened to Thessos?" Cetina looked towards the mountain range. "I heard it was a Clansmen attack."

Ines bit her lip as she looked to the mountains. They currently sat in a small pavilion built high in the castle. It was clearly made for summer use, there was too much open spaces and several braziers had been brought out so they wouldn't freeze. However it offered an unparalleled view of the mountains and the thick forests that extended to the gentle snow covered slope into the mountains themselves.

"Must have been a lot." Verona murmured. She held her hands close to the fire while sitting next to Anton. "Thessos is not a small fortress city."

"It has been built over many generations of our family." Ines bit her lip hard enough to almost draw blood. "But I'm not a true de Yascar. My two children are..."

"Where is Gerin?" Cetina, sitting next to a silent Kal, lent forward and rest her hands on the table. "None of the guards would say a thing."

"He was taken." Ines hands shook, she clasped them tight in an attempt to stop it. "Kidnapped. A large Clansmen force attacked us before winter began, they burned most of the city and took my husband as a prisoner."

"But they were returned." Anton said. "That's what the guards said. Just not your husband."

"I don't know why..." Ines frowned lightly. "They say it was the same Clansman that took him in the first place."

"Strange." Anton murmured.

"Some Clansmen of the Blood Axe clan, or whatever it was called. Ivano I think he was called." Ines shrugged. "He had them returned without a ransom. I never thought I'd live to see the day when that happened."

"Ivano?" Anton leant forward. "What did he look like?"

Ines gave a vague description, she claimed it was night and she was utterly terrified they would be captured or killed, but Anton was sure he was the same Ivano he met in Qaiviel.

"So he survived." Anton leant back into his chair. "He was so worried that he would be killed by his chieftain. I wonder how he managed to get out of that?"

"You know this Clansman?" Ines frowned. The guards, waiting patiently at the back of the room, gripped their weapons in readiness.

"Not that well." Anton raised his hand. "We've only met him once and he was a captive then."

"How?" Cetina asked, a slight frown formed on her face.

During some of their longer journeys Anton had recounted his story since arriving in this world. He was certain he had covered their time in Qaiviel but apparently he had omitted the aftermath of the battle in Nonbur’n.

“He was the leader of the Deweth Clansmen forces that attacked Qaiviel during the summer.” Anton began. “But it seemed that he had little choice in the matter; if it wasn’t him it would be someone else. Talked...He talked about not wanting to raid and pillage anymore, that it was destroying his people.”

Ines almost chuckled. “Our soldiers followed them far into the mountains, killing hundreds as they retreated. We’ve learnt from them. Soon the snow and mountains will offer them no sanctuary.”

“That’s why I find it so odd that he led...Well, after his defeat I doubt he was leading the attack, but I find it strange that he was a part of the assault of Thessos.”

“Excuse me.” A voice spoke softly from the far side of the room, a maid. She was young and quite pretty, her meek demeanour only added to her allure.

“Right...” Ines waved the maid forward. “Mila was inside our room when this Ivano, and another Clansmen, killed our guard and began searching for my husband.”

“He told me to run.” Mila spoke louder and with more authority. “That he would let me go but if I was caught by anyone else they would take me back, or just rape and kill me.”

“Sounds a bit like him.” Anton mused. “He wanted to surrender when we had them trapped in the Governor's mansion.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Verona leant forward and caught Kal’s attention. “We had other things to discuss. Making sure we understood the rules.”

“Just an excuse for you to laze about.” Kal said snidely. Verona laughed but did not deny it.

“All this talk though.” Cetina reached for Anton’s hand. She stopped and let it drop, she was supposed to just be his bodyguard, and not a concubine that shared his bed every night. “It doesn’t get my uncle back.”

“I don’t think there’s much we can do.” Anton looked to the snow covered mountains. “We’ll be killed if we try to go there, if the weather doesn’t get us first.”

“I might be able to.” Verona played with her hair. “But they’re going to wonder why I’m so far from home, and on my own.”

“I thought you were from there.” Ines said softly. “There isn’t anywhere else that you can find silver hair like that.”

Verona shrugged and returned to heating her hands

"I'm afraid there isn't much for you here, Cetina." Ines smiled. "You are always welcome to stay, as are your companions, but..."

Cetina meekly nodded. "I know. I just wanted to see it one last time, to know that everyone is safe."

"I'm just glad that Sancha's dead." Ines whispered something to the maid as she scuttled away. "Never liked that girl. Or her mother."

"Do you know anything about my mother?" Cetina leant forward. "We left shortly after she was gone..." Cetina slumped into her chair. "I should have gone..." She smiled at Anton. "If I hadn't I wouldn't have met any of you."

"I didn't want you gone." Ines shook her head. "But with that whispering bitch poisoning your father's mind we had little choice but to throw them out."

If only you knew how literal you actually were.

"You..." Ines sighed softly, a warm smile crept over her lips. "Doesn't matter now. We can spend all day saying what we should or should not have done."

The maid returned with a steaming plate of food and drinks. Before she could even place it down Verona was already trying to grab some. She was shocked when the maid blocked her and ensured everyone else was offered a portion before her.

Someone's not putting up with your antics.

When she realised that she would have to behave Verona pouted and leant into Anton's shoulder.

Ines picked up a steaming cup of a light brown tea. "Your mother isn't dead. At least she wasn't when she left here."

"How?" The wooden seat groaned under Cetina's grip. "She...Did you help her escape?"

"I don't know how she did it but that Eluria woman convinced some of the guards that she was a threat to the de Yascar's and Thessos. They were going to kill her in her sleep, but she managed to escape." Ines frowned. "She and Duran were having some problems."

Just when there's a Strega Witch in the city.

"She escaped and I gave her everything I could." Ines took a sip of the hot beverage, her body relaxed as the warmth spread. "We were never close but she must have been truly desperate to come to me. I told her to go back to Mycea. And...And that was the last I ever saw of her."

Cetina turned to Anton. "Mycea is a place Wilford is heading to. Right?"

"It is." Anton shuffled upright as Ines's eyes narrowed slightly. "But he's going the wrong way for that. After stopping at the Holy Kingsland he can head straight for Mycea. That’s where he was going anyway but we’ll see what we can find. Maybe someone knows your mother’s family.”

“You speak as if you can travel to Frindal to Mycea in but a few days.” Ines laughed. “That would be incredible.”

“Actually just a few seconds.” Anton said. “But we can.”

“I…” Ines looked to Cetina. She gently shook her head when Cetina did nothing to refute Anton’s claims.

“But I’m glad to know that you are alive.” Cetina looked to Anton again. “But there’s not much that we can do to help. We have our own problems...And I don’t think money is an issue. If my memory isn’t wrong.”

“Money isn’t the issue. Only time.” Ines nodded to the piles of snow. “And the winter isn’t helping. Keeping people moving helps, and helps them forget they are living in the shadow of the Clansmen.”

“This actually is the end of our journey into Bebbezzar.” Anton said. “For now, at least. Maybe we could head to the capital...Tell me, Ines. What is the situation in Bebbezzar? Everyone has something different to say.”

Ines lightly shrugged. “Chaos. These Liberators at the border, rogue Merchant Princes to the south, the centre’s a big mess and the old capital can barely control the nearby cities.” Ines sighed. “It’s a complete mess.”

“Didn’t seem so bad when we passed.” Verona smiled awkwardly. “Not that I’m saying it’s not bad. But no battlefields or destroyed farms and forests.”

“Once the snows melt it will begin in earnest again.” Ines had Mila pour her another cup of tea. There were steaming cups for them but they hadn’t reached for them, Kal, obviously, could not. “Then it will be war and death. Again. But Thessos is a strong city. And, for all their desire to take land, they know that should we fall the Clansmen will simply pour into our lands. They leave us border cities alone. And for good reason. We know how to fight.”

Just not against several thousand Clansmen at once.

“I would like to give you something.” Anton signalled Cetina to get something from one of their packs. “A magical artefact. They may look like stones, but I can assure you that they are extremely useful.”

Cetina returned with a small bad. Ines held a marked stone aloft, frowning as she could not understand what it was.

“Allow me.” Cetina laid out the stones and the portal flashed into life. Ines and the guards were shocked, Mila stood completely stunned.

“With this we can buy and sell materials.” Anton nodded to the forest beyond Thessos’s walls. “I think we could buy a lot of wood and game from you. And we can offer the skill of the Dwarves to build your fortress city even better.”

“Dwarves?” Mila said softly, tilting her heard. She shied back a step when she realised she had spoken out of turn.

“For a reasonable price.” Anton smiled. “We aren’t a charity, you see.”

“I...I will need to consult my council.” Ines frowned at the shimmering white portal. “Must it stay here? When it snows tonight this whole area will be covered.”

“Easy.” Cetina removed a stone and the portal vanished.

“And I want to give Cetina the opportunity to return to Thessos if she wishes.”

Cetina smiled. “Thank you. I think I might return here from time to time. Though, since I’m travelling with you, I don’t think I’ll get much of a chance.”

“We will also help Thessos as much as we can.” Anton said. “Do not hesitate to call upon us if the Clansmen decide to attack. Or one of these renegade forces roaming about.”

“Why would you help us?” Ines frowned. “I understand that Cetina is your...But what do you have to gain?”

“I need allies. And safe places to places my portals. It will help keep you safe, and should you need any resources from anywhere in the world we can facilitate it. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

Cetina raised her hand. “That’s...Actually that’s true. Anton needs all the help he can get and by helping Thessos we can get it.”

Ines leant back into her chair. “This has been an interesting day. I need time to think this over. The implications…Well, all of you can stay the night, if you wish. It is too late for you to try and travel any further in Bebbezzar, the roads are not particularly safe at night…Especially after Thessos was attacked. Bandits and raiders think it’s the perfect time to attack the few people willing to travel the roads. Regardless, that isn’t your problem. Your old room has been repurposed, but we can find you another one. I do wish to hear how two Dark Elves arrived in your company.”

Calo and Sheso, standing behind Anton, smiled. They had the darkest skin out of everyone present by far, so there was no way they would not be noticed. As the twins began to recount how their entire clan was brought to the brink of extinction Anton focused his attention towards the snowy mountains.

Some could call this whole trip a wasted effort. Thessos is doing fine rebuilding, they want to keep to themselves and there’s nothing we can do for her uncle…At least we’ve established another portal location. I wonder how Ivano is doing. If he managed to survive a second ‘failure’. Maybe we could barter passage through Seocuria...Pretend we’re bringing Verona home? That would be incredibly risky for almost no gain. Shame. He seemed like a good man. Hopefully we can meet him again. And not in the battlefield.

Volume 05 - Chapter 28 - (Interlude) - Ivano's Troubles

"About fucking time," Snakha grumbled loudly. "I'm beginning to hate the snow."

Ivano could only raise a silent brow to the latest complaint from the oddity in their convoy, the only Orc amongst a throng of Clansmen.

"I'll be glad to have some good food." Snakha rubbed his green hands together. "Watching it draw closer is such a tease."

Ivano still said nothing as Snakha returned to talking with Brenna. The two had been speaking a lot, far more than what one would consider normal. Despite his relatively calm, friendly and even helpful, his image was forever tarnished in Ivano’s mind by his murdering of a fellow Orc over a perceived slight and so he could gain a new axe.

That was then. A different time, where we thought we could still successfully raid the Lowlanders. I wonder how the Orc Clans really reacted towards our defeat? Snakha probably didn’t help matters.

Snakha began to grumble one again to anyone who would listen about their current situation. Most put on polite faces, even Brenna but it seemed to do the large Orc some good. Ivano’s children listened with a furious intensity, Sibbe did not like it when he spoke of the viscera and gore associated with violence.

“Where is that boy?” Ivano muttered to himself. “Borstig! Come up here.”

The gangly man rode upon his bear mount, a Bernoth, and joined Ivano. The Bernoth had been very tame and docile throughout their journey, except when they were set upon by a horde of starving wolves. Then it turned into a ferocious beast right until the moment the wolves fled, then it returned to its happy and playful self.

"Yes? Ivano?" Borstig's soft voice undermined the ferocity of the animal between his legs. "What did you want from me?"

Ivano pointed forward. "We're nearly at our destination."

The winding snow-drenched road led them out of another thickly wooded forest and into an unnatural clearing. Small homes, squat snow-covered buildings with a single faint trail of smoke, dotted the land. The clansmen were known as raiders and slavers but someone had to tend the fields and plantations during the short window the harsh snows allowed. Beyond those lay a river, completely frozen over with dozens of cart tracks, with one half-submerged and thankfully abandoned. A single stone bridge afforded travel during the warmer months, leading up a twisting and winding road to their destination. Reynisnes, capital of the Wind Walkers and the seat of Ulfheid, their chieftain. The city itself lay nestled at the base of two mountains, some of the city was quite literally carved into the stone. Though they were some distance away Ivano watched the streams of snow tumble down from the mountain above before blowing over the city, the roofs were all slanted in such a way to deflect the worst of the wind, before settling over the expanse between the thick outer wall and the frozen river. Ivano immediately understood why they were called Wind Walkers.

"Such a crazy place to live," Ivano muttered. The boy dared not look at their destination. "Borstig? Are you ready?"

Borstig gulped and rubbed his arms. Ivano, Snakha and even Brenna had trained him as rigorously as possible but there was only so much that could be done in such a short amount of time.

"I...I don't think so."

Ivano patted the man's leg, Chumny watched his hands carefully for any sign of hostility.

"You never know what you'll be capable of until the time comes," Ivano said. "But you're more than brave enough to ride on that things’ back."

Borstig frowned as he stroked its thick fur. "Chumny is not a thing. Anyway...I don't know if I'm ready."

"Sure you are." A joyful tone came from the other side. Arlid poked his head around Chumny, much to its bemusement. "You've done pretty well, considering you're as thin as a twig."

Arvid's head appeared around his brothers. "And if things do turn to shit you can always sick Chumny onto them." His eyes fell upon Chumny's giant paws, specifically the claws. "Just one swipe of that thing's arms and I'll lose mine. And I've only got one left."

Arlid slapped his back. "But think of all the stories you could tell. Why, the women would be clamouring at your door to have a chance to sire a son with that bravery."

"Really?" Borstig asked softly.

Ivano didn't want to spoil the boy's dream, but it was a little surprising that he might be interested in such things. He seemed to have his head in the clouds most days.

"Not much good if I'm just flopping around."

Arlid smiled, sensing a killing blow was near. "What's the difference?"

Arlid scoffed and slapped his brother over the back of his head. Arlid began to laugh, then so too was his brother. Borstig cracked a smirk, likely so he didn't feel left out.

"Problem!" A warrior from the front shouted.

Ivano signalled for the convoy to halt. As he raced to the front, those that he trusted close behind, he looked to Reynisnes. No one rode out to greet them, in peace or violence, which wasn't unusual for Clansmen hospitality during winter. If you were dumb or desperate enough to be out during winter than you should make the effort to reach them. Regardless, they were not some small group of hunters or traders. There was no way their convoy could be missed. Unless there was no one to see them.

"Is the bridge out?" Ivano asked the Clansmen.

He looked at something near the bridge, half-covered in snow. Ivano stopped dead, raising his closed fist to stop the others.

A Stone Man lay dead in the snow, propped against the edge of the bridge. It had laid there so long only its eerily grey and dead face was visible beneath the snow, only thanks to the dark brown stone-like armour protecting its face from the falling snow. No wounds or cuts adorned its face.

Ivano took a spear and prodded around the snow. Where a torso should have laid he found nothing but snow.

“Another one of those things?” Gerin asked.

The Bebbezarian man had remained very quiet and inconspicuous during most of their travels, Ivano usually had to search for him but he would not dare leave, not when he was so deep in unfamiliar and hostile territory. He pulled his thick, snow-covered fur coat tight and gently kicked the dead Stone Man.

“I never thought I’d actually see one of these…Before...Before this I thought they were just a myth.”

“Your people were planning on invading our lands?” Arlid smiled and leant closer to the dead creature, looking closely at its frost-covered dead face. “Surely you’d have come across them sooner or later.”

“I don’t think we’d fight them.” Gerin laughed nervously. “We’d keep far away from them. Especially after they wiped out one of your entire clans. Has anything done that before?”

“Not to something as large as the Fish Gutters.” Arlid clicked his tongue. “I mean, they weren’t the biggest, but still…”

"After saying all of that who could do this to a Stone Man?" Snakha asked.

"Another Stone Man." Brenna quietly spoke.

Ivano used the butt of his spear to brush away the snow. A javelin had impaled the Stone man's upper chest to the bridge and broken off, the rest of his body was nowhere to be seen.

"They're getting really close," Ivano grumbled. "Never saw them when I was a kid. Only if you went too far from the roads, and most of the time they just wanted you gone."

"But." Arlid chuckled. "But if they did catch you they'd eat you."

Ivano was relieved to not see green tassels hanging from the Stone Man's helmet.

"Let's keep moving." Ivano signalled the convoy. "We don't want to be here when they decide to come back and pick him up."

Some of the Clansmen clearly wanted to pilfer anything they could from such an elusive and dangerous foe. Ivano didn't want to take any chances and ordered the remains to be left alone. A few harsh glares from Arlid and Arvid, and the glint of their freshly sharpened axes, was more than sufficient.

The convoy quickly settled down as they continued on their way, suddenly turning to a buzz of excitement as they neared the city gates. Most Clansmen cities only had a single low wall, enough to keep wild animals out, but Reynisnes was a fortress by comparison. High stone walls, battlements and fortified watchtowers dotted the wall, tiny specks of orange flame flickered from within. Ivano didn't begrudge the guards seeking warmth but they should still be keeping watch.

"It's huge!" Signi pushed her way to the front of the cart, ignoring the looks given by her mother and sisters. "How-How many people live here?"

"Twenty thousand," Avid said loudly. "At least that's how many there were the last time we came through here."

"And who knows how many slaves," Arlid added.

Ivano glanced back to Erik and the Bebbezarian former slave, Unina. They had heard but only Unina reacted, with a slight look of annoyance rather than outright disgust. Ivano had never owned a slave before, the idea of having someone living and sharing a home who in all likelihood would kill him the moment they safely could not appeal to him.

Besides, most of the working slaves are Beastkin from Seocuria.

A final mountain range loomed in the distance. Beyond that lay the hot and arid lands of Seocuria. And, more importantly, the only people left on the continent that would still trade with the Deweth Clans. An ancient passageway had been cut through the mountains, bypassing the dangerous overland passes, facilitating one of the extremely few points of trade. Ivano had only seen them once but he did not forget the weathered insignia at the entrance, a sword overlaying a shield. He still had no idea what it was but did not ask at the time. There was always something more important.

"I wonder if they're going to let us in." Ivano wondered aloud. They were the only people coming to the city and Ivano was not well liked by their chieftain.

As they approached a faint horn blew and a solitary Clansman stepped out from a small portcullis to the side of the main gate. He did not move from his position until they arrived, Ivano realised that he didn't want to leave the last vestiges of the fire burning inside his little room.

"Who goes there?" He yelled gruffly, brushing away the snow accumulating in his beard, a futile endeavour.

"Ivano, of the..." Ivano hesitated. "Chieftain of the Fire Blades clan. I have business with your chieftain."

The man spat into the snow. "Chieftain Ulfheid isn't here. So you can head back to where you came from."

"He seems a rather angry fellow," Snakha mumbled. Brenna, standing beside him, tried her best not to laugh or crack a smile.

"Surely the Wind Walkers have not become so corrupted by the lowlanders' ways that they no longer consider themselves Clansmen?"

The Clansmen's eye twitched. "I'm not standing in the snow any longer to deal with your shit. My brothers and father went on that raid of yours." Genuine anger consumed him. "But you did!"

Ivano said nothing, keeping his face as neutral as possible. Anything he said now could easily set him off. It would be hard to get inside with fresh blood coating his weapon.

"Whatever." The Clansmen whistled and the gate began to open. "Ulfheid will be informed of your arrival when she returns. Hopefully, she's in a good mood. She might even give you a trinket from her latest raid."

The man scoffed and returned to his hovel in the wall, grumbling and muttering to himself. Ivano was more than a little curious to hear who they had raided, the winter snows blocked almost all routes to the lowlanders, but he was clearly not in a talking mood.

The gates fully opened, revealing a surprisingly busy city within. A wave of heat flowed out, undoubtedly another reason why the guard was so bitter, as they entered. Unlike Ravengalier the people were happy and smiling as they perused stalls filled with goods. Ivano couldn't see any beggars along the streets either, something that made Arlid and Arvid a little happier. They could have just been shunted to the back alleys or worse but Ivano hoped for the best.

"Now what?" Sibbe asked as they passed through the gates. A gust of cold wind caught those nearest to the gate unaware. They threw angry glares until they realised they were travellers, not that the door had blown in.

"Ulfheid won't ignore a fellow Chieftain." Ivano scoffed. "More than likely she'll think that I'm lying, but I don't have any other idea on how to get close to her."

"And the boy?" Sibbe looked at Borstig, still happily riding Chumny without a care in the world. Upon seeing the great bear the people began to give them all a wide berth. "He's going to get killed."

Ivano glumly nodded. "And so am I if he fails. Were going to need to do everything we can if we're going to make it out in one piece."

---[]---

A night of short and troubled sleep was all that Ivano could manage. The caretaker of Reynisnes, an older woman who barely left the comfort of her fire pit, was far more accommodating than the guard outside. She had already heard of Ivano's victory in the Blood Duel and had him and his convoy housed in a modest longhouse. While everyone else relaxed and enjoyed the roof over their heads, and the privacy it afforded, Ivano feared that they would be set upon and killed at any moment. But it was not to be.

A blaring horn cut Ivano's troubled thoughts. He looked out the small window that gave him unobstructed vision over the entirety of Reynisnes. A large group of people advanced on the city, crossing the bridge in a slow and ordered manner. It took Ivano's eyes a few moments to adjust but he realised there were carts scattered throughout the mass of people, laden with goods and covered by a thin piece of light cloth.

"So they're finally here," Ivano muttered.

"We've only been here a day!" Hild, his youngest, exclaimed with a pout. She and her sisters had not been allowed to leave the longhouse to play. They became very grumpy when they saw the other children playing in the snow outside.

"And that's too long for me." Ivano lightly tapped the wooden railing. "I'd rather be in Brenningr. At least there not everyone is trying to kill me."

"I'd rather be in our actual home," Sibbe said softly as she folded washed and cold clothes. "Too many people, too much noise and things to go wrong."

"It certainly has its advantages."

Ivano continued to watch the procession. As they neared the heavy gate was opened, followed by a mighty cheer from both those inside the city and outside.

"What's the plan?" Sibbe held Ivano's hand. "So she doesn't just try to kill you. Then us."

"It's not as simple as the first time." Ivano clicked his tongue. "Everything was already in place for me...We need to find Borstig, see if he has any ideas."

Ivano gave his wife a kiss, and his children, and sought out the young, strange boy. When he exited he found Arlid and Arvid chatting merrily with the caretaker. Despite being very old she still held a spark in her eyes and was more than capable of verbally sparring with the twins. Ivano sought out Brenna and Snakha. They had chosen rooms next to one another, something that he was expecting but still found it somewhat strange.

So long as they aren’t hurting one another I really, really don’t care. I have heard that Orcs are quite ‘large’, especially compared to humans. That could cause some complications.

Ivano stood before both of their doors, Alrid and Arvid’s faint distant laughter echoed down the hallways, as he chose whose to knock on first.

“Um...Who cares.” Ivano knocked on both.

“Time to get up!” He yelled. “We’ve got work.”

He walked away before he could hear any movement. As he neared Gerin’s door a short horn blast stopped him. The elderly caretaker ran past him, she pulled the hem of her long dress up to move at a speed he did not expect someone so old could move at, and stopped at a small window at the end of the longhouse. Ivano followed after giving Gerin’s door a knock.

“Bad?” Ivano asked the old woman. Arlid and Arvid slowly approached from behind, both with a hand ready to draw their weapons.

“Ulfheid has returned.” She pointed a bony finger out of the open window. Despite the constantly falling snow very little actually came in.

A large trail of Clansmen approached Reynisnes, far larger than Ivano’s, with dozens of fully laden carts and carriages. Whatever they contained they were so heavy it required burly Clansmen to push the carts as the large beasts struggled to pull the weight.

“Where did she go?” Ivano peered closer. “Doesn’t look like she’s come from the Lowlands.”

“The Stone Men.” The old woman smiled. “There is no one else that has that much gold...Besides. The Clans tend not to raid one another. At least any more.”

“Is she crazy?” Ivano whispered harshly. “They are not people that you want to offend. Have you ever seen one in your life?”

“Only a dead one.” The old woman pointed to the stone bridge which Ulfhied’s convoy had just crossed. “They don’t seem that dangerous.”

Then you have no idea what you’re talking about. I just hope that she just found some ancient temple and raided that instead.

The horn blasted again. Below Ivano could see the people of Reynisnes slowly begin to move towards the outer walls, to see just who was approaching.

“Wanna see what she’s bringing?” Arlid asked.

“No.” Ivano shook his head. He looked back along the corridor, seeing that nearly everyone had already emerged. “But we’d better go. We’re staying here at her grace, after all.”

---[]---

Ivano arrived at the rear of Ulfhied’s celebration. The Wind Walkers shouted and cheered her name as her warriors threw out coins, gemstones and golden artefacts to the assembled crowd. Ivano had never seen a chieftain, a female chieftain at that, give out so much wealth freely.

I did. But that was to ensure the people of Brenningr didn't try and kill me. Hard to think of rebellion when your pockets are full of gold. Although...I never did think of this ‘inflation’ Gerin spoke of.

He glanced at the Bebbezzarian, keeping his head vast down and generally looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

No wonder we were losing.

"Here!" Ulfhied’s voice cut through the cheers. "Gold for everyone. No one will go hungry tonight!"

Ivano glanced at Gerin. Something within the man stirred, the same face he made before giving Ivano the lecture about economics and the value of gold. After a single breath, he stopped himself and retreated further into himself.

"This is how we are supposed to live!" Ulfheid emerged from underneath one of the thinly covered carts. "Not like scavengers, like those lowlanders think we are, but the rulers we know we are!"

The crowds cheered again. Ulfheid stood at the highest point and held a gemstone high into the air. The light brown shiny rock was the largest Ivano had ever seen, though he knew not what it was called. By the way Ulfheid held it close it was of some significant value.

"Now what?" Arlid asked over the roar of the people. "How are we supposed to get her attention?"

"Without just being killed on the spot." Arvid quickly added. "From what you've said she knows your face and really, really doesn't like you."

"True. But if we don't-"

"Ivano!" Ulfheid shouted.

Ivano tried to act like he didn't hear her but it was impossible. A gap had already formed around him, the crowds of people slowly parted between him and the carts of gold. Ulfheid held the gemstone underneath her arm while a warrior whispered into her ear. She smiled, gave the man's shoulder a quick pat, and tossed the light brown gemstone at him.

"Ivano. I'm surprised you decided to show up now." Ulfheid dismounted the cart and strode towards him. "I thought you would have stayed in the longhouse, not come out to see me."

No one spoke a word. All eyes were squarely focused on him.

One chance. Just like last time.

"I thought it would be rude and haughty of me to stay in comfort while you and your warriors returned with such spoils."

Ulfheid scoffed, throwing back her head towards the carts. "If you want some you're out of luck. But I will treat you to a good meal. That's what chieftains do for one another, right?"

"Indeed."

Ulfhied’s eyes narrowed. "I heard that you challenged Mord to a Blood Duel and won. Is that true?"

"It is. I am now chieftain of the Fire Blades."

The crowd murmured, unsure of what to think.

"He was an idiot." Ulfheid shook her head. "You aren't as big as he was but you're a lot faster...And not as stupid." Ulfheid signalled to her warriors to continue handing out the spoils. "So what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be looking after your new clan? Rather than coming all this way just to say hello?"

Ulfheid folded her arms and looked behind him. "You already have a wife and kids...So what do you want? You can't challenge me to a Blood Duel. You know the rules."

"I do...But..." Ivano smiled bitterly. "Have you heard what has happened to the Fish Gutters?"

Ulfheid did not reply. She looked back to the pile of gold, the happy faces of those receiving handfuls of coins.

"Let's talk inside," Ulfheid spoke more softly than before.

So you had something to do with them. Are you insane? You've left one of them outside to rot against a crappy stone bridge. Imagine what they're going to do when they catch up to you. They're not the fastest but they don't stop. They never stop.

Ivano returned a curt nod. At the very least she wasn't about to have them killed just yet, those nearby did not seem to care that he had asked about a clan that had been destroyed by the Stone Men.

She and her best warriors, those with the most scars and best equipment, began walking towards the largest building in the city, clearly Ulfhied’s residence. She regarded Snakha, their only Orc, with some suspicion but she stopped dead when she finally laid eyes on Borstig and Chumny.

"Who..." Ulfheid seemed stunned. Her fingers flexed and her eyes remained locked straight ahead.

"A Bernoth." One of her warriors said softly. "Tamed, by the looks of things. I don't know how they managed it but it is not hostile."

"What?" Ulfheid shook her head. "Yes. An impressive beast...What is your name?"

"Borstig." He rubbed the furry neck between his legs. "And this is Chumny."

"I...I see." Ulfheid shook her head. "Ivano, bring everyone in your company with you. I'm sure we can find a stack of meat for that bear to eat."

She afforded Borstig a final glance before walking past. In front a small group of warriors surrounded them. There was no choice in the matter. As they started to walk Brenna dropped back to him and Sibbe.

"Did you see the way she looked at him?" Brenna asked. "Like..."

"Like she was smitten." Sibbe smiled. "I know the feeling."

Ivano shook his head. "If that is the case we might not need to have a Blood Duel."

"A more intimate duel then." Brenna smiled, as did Sibbe.

"We will see," Ivano said softly. "But I'll be honest. He has a better chance of defeating Ulfheid in bed than in the arena."

Ivano only received glum nods as they continued walking.

---[]---

Ulfheid landed on the large lounge, covered in thick furs for warmth and comfort.

"Yes, I know about the Fish Gutters." Ulfheid did not wait for anyone else to be seated. "It's been a while since an entire clan has been eradicated."

Ulfhied’s hall was remarkably similar to Mord’s, with more food and less brutality and debauchery. Ivano was glad not to see any slaves, men or women, but he knew they would be somewhere, probably in the kitchens.

“And do you know by who?” Ivano asked. He still stood, it was rude to just take a seat before it had been offered by the host, in this case, Ulfheid. “I think you already know.”

Ulfheid motioned to the chairs. Everyone took a seat but Ivano remained standing. As did Borstig and Chumny, not in an act of defiance but because Chumny would not sit properly.

“Is...Is something wrong with your bear?” Ulfheid raised a brow. “He can sit, if he wants.”

“Chumny is fine.” Borstig smiled and rubbed Chumny’s neck. “He kind of does what he wants. But he’s not going to attack anyone.”

“I see…” Ulfheid leant back into her chair. “In that case, sit next to me. I don’t want your pet to get out of hand, not that I think it will.”

Borstig smiled and happily trotted to Ulfhied’s side, oblivious to the looks she was throwing him. Ivano looked at his companions, they returned strange looks; Arlid and Arvid gave furious nods, Snakha gently shook his head while Sibbe and Brenna shared a worried glance. Borstig was an adult but he wasn’t all there.

“Do you know who killed all of the Fish Gutters?” Ivano asked, Ulfheid motioned for him to sit on his other side, a normal chair unlike Borstig’s large cushions for Chumny. “We ran into the last ones, just before they were killed.”

Ulfheid clicked her tongue.

“The Stone Men,” Ivano said softly. “They were hunting Clansmen that had raided their-”

“The Stone Men are not as strong as we fear,” Ulfheid said proudly. “We’ve killed dozens, and haven’t lost anyone. They’re a dead race and simply taking up valuable space. That's all.” Ulfheid smirked and lent back into her chair, resting her head on her fist. “That and they have a lot of gold and jewels. Stuff that we can still use.”

“It’s dangerous to meddle with them.” Ivano’s voice was almost a growl. “I don’t know much about them but they aren’t as weak as you think.”

Ulfheid dismissively waved her hand. “Don’t you worry about it. The Stone Men are nowhere near the Fire Blades, it is our problem. But I still wish to know why you are here, Ivano. Surely it cannot be because you wish to warn us of the Stone Men?”

I thought you were less arrogant than Mord. But it seems that I am wrong! He was just pig-headed but you are seemingly maliciously foolish. The Stone Men will come for revenge, for the gold, jewels and whatever else you managed to steal from them...But you’re right. That isn’t my problem. My problem lies at your other side…

“No.” Ivano took a shallow breath. “I wished to introduce you to Borstig, son of Arnkel.”

“You’re Arnkel’s son?” Ulfheid looked Borstig up and down. “Really? You look nothing like that brute.”

Borstig bit his lower lip. “My mother is not Arnkel’s wife.”

“I see…” Ulfheid sighed and slowly nodded. “You certainly do not look like him. But...But we do not have the chance to choose our parents.”

Is that some sort of wisdom coming from you?

“So what brings you to Reynisnes?” Ulfheid lent closer. “I don’t think that you’re following Ivano through the winter snows for no reason.”

Borstig gripped his hands tight. “I do...But...I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh?” Ulfheid smirked and lent closer. “What sort of terrible things are you thinking? And does it involve that mighty Chumny thing of yours?”

“Fliodher gave me a vision, I think that’s what Ivano called it.” Borstig looked expectantly at Ivano. “Right?”

“It was.” Ivano nodded slowly, thankful Borstig had not mentioned anything about a Blood Duel or why they were actually meeting her. “She led us to...Chumny, before Borstig called him that.”

“You’ve actually received a vision from one of the Gods?” Ulfhied’s eyes were wide open. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.” Borstig rubbed Chumny’s neck. “She told me where to go..So...Ivano?” Borstig chuckled nervously and looked at Ivano. “What am I supposed to do now? Again?”

There’s no way she would accept a Blood Duel from him...Shit. What do we do? She could just kill us and that would be the end of everything. Sibbe...Does Ulfheid actually have a thing for Borstig? Let’s just try and talk about what we actually want.

Ulfheid noticed Ivano’s hesitation and smirked. “I have a far better idea than whatever Ivano is trying to make you do.”

“Really?” Borstig visibly relaxed and lent closer to Ulfheid.

“I wonder what Ivano was going to make you do?” Ulfheid ran a finger from underneath Borstig’s chin to his lips.

Borstig whimpered slightly but his face hardened. “Ivano spoke a lot with me during our journey. He didn’t just train me how to fight-”

Ulfheid looked him up and down but did not comment.

“He told me…And I agree with him…” Borstig laid a hand upon Chumny’s back. “That what we are doing is wrong.”

“We?” Ulfheid lent back into her chair.

“That we shouldn’t be raiders.” Borstig puffed up his chest. “That we’re hurting more than just the beautiful animals, but the people as well.”

“Fliodher would put animals in front of people.” Ulfheid chuckled. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Ivano. “This sounds remarkably similar to what Arnkel was speaking of, when we were determining your fate for failing to defeat Qaiviel.”

It was impossible to defeat Qaiviel with what we have. But…Maybe Ulfheid will be more willing to listen to Borstig than me…Especially if she seems to have a thing for him.

“Indeed.” Ivano stepped forward. “I believe, just as Arnkel does, that the Deweth Clans cannot survive as we have, by raiding the Lowlands. I’m sure that you heard that we were not only resoundly defeated by the weakened Bebbezzarians but they were also able to chase us deep into our territory, where only the winter snows stopped them.”

That brought many murmurs from the gathered Wind Walkers.

Ulfheid tapped her finger. “Yes…In fact, Mord was the only other one to oppose such a thing. And he’s dead now. Right?”

“Indeed.” Ivano slowly nodded. “If I had not challenged Mord to a Blood Duel he would have killed me, for failing to take a fortified city with our meagre forces.”

“He always was a fool.” Ulfheid scoffed. “Arnkel never really liked him either. But, everything worked out in the end. Right?”

“To be completely fair I didn’t want to originally take up the mantle.”

“Oh?”

“Difficult when you’re being threatened.”

Ulfheid’s eyes flicked to Sibbe and his children. Her face softened for a moment.

“I never liked him much either. Something about him…But…But no matter.” She stood up, startling Chumny and causing the bear creature to lurch up slightly. “Sorry, little bear. Now! Now is the time of celebration!”

The Wind Walkers cheered.

“We will discuss this in the morning.” Ulfheid waved to servants standing in the corners. Barely a moment passed before plates of steaming fresh meat and jugs of frothing beer came forth. “Now, everyone, Wind Walkers and our guests, please drink and celebrate with us!”

The Fire Blades Ivano had brought from Brenningr cheered and quickly partook in the drinks. There appeared to be none set aside for them, so he did not suspect poison or any sort of ulterior motive.

“Now.” Ulfheid waved Ivano closer. “Come here and tell me what has happened since we last met. You've seemingly done quite well for yourself.”

---[]---

Ivano breathed easier once Sibbe and their children were safely back in their longhouse. Ulfheid had not inquired further about their purpose, though he was certain she understood to some degree. She paid lip service to Ivano’s stories, especially his attempts to try and curtail the Clansmen’s desire for raiding and pillage, but was clearly more interested in Borstig. The more alcohol that flowed the more obvious it became. Borstig was clearly unaware, his innocence only appeared to drive Ulfhied’s desire.

“This whole trip was a mistake.” Ivano gently thumped his head onto the wooden doorframe. “But if we didn’t leave we’d have been killed by Arnkel...Fuck. Sometimes I wish I’d been born in the Lowlands...Or at least just a normal warrior. Why did I try and take command again?”

“Have you been drinking?” A deep voice asked. Snakha lent against the far wall. “You aren’t normally this depressing.”

“Ulfheid would never have agreed to a Blood Duel with Borstig.” Ivano sighed and stepped away from the door. “She, quite rightfully, would have just ignored us or have us killed. If she didn’t seem to have a thing for gangly young men...So what are you doing here?”

“I was about to go to bed.” Snakha stretched his arms. “Seems like Brenna has already turned in for the night…”

“Really?” Ivano raised a brow. “And you were going to join her? She seemed pretty drunk.”

Snakha laughed and turned around. Part of his cloak was wet and covered in what looked like to be beer froth.

“She was very, very drunk.” Snakha laughed. “I don’t think it would be right to do anything to someone like that. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to do much anyway. It would probably be better just to do it myself.”

“Didn’t take you for someone that honourable. Remember when you murdered an Orc for an axe?”

“It was a good axe.” Snakha shrugged. “But I’m not like that all the time. I’d never hurt people I like.”

“Like Brenna?”

Snakha smirked. “Exactly.”

“I’m not going to judge either of you, so long as neither of you are taking advantage of each other.”

“I…” Snakha laughed. “How much did you have to drink? Honestly. Normally you’re a lot more intelligent. Like that Bebbezzarian man. Speaking of, what happened to him?”

“I think he left the moment he could. I don’t particularly blame him. He’s so far from home…”

“Speaking of.” Snakha beckoned him closer. “You were saying that you were worried about Borstig?”

“Is he in trouble?” Ivano reached for the small Bebbezzarian blade on his hip.

“No…” Snakha’s smiled widened. “No. Quite the opposite.”

“He’s alright?”

“More that Ulfhied’s the one in trouble.” Snakha led him out of the longhouse. “I think a lot of women would be in trouble if that boy was more confident.”

Ivano had a vague idea as to what he was speaking of. Snakha pulled his cloak tighter, Ivano could now faintly smell vomit from the stains, and slunk outside. A few Wind Walkers were on patrol but mostly they were drunk or in the process of getting more drunk. Snakha avoided the patrols and towards a smaller longhouse towards the top of Reynisnes. Two elite Wind Walker guards stood at the door but they were quite drunk and in the process of falling asleep.

“Are you…” Ivano shook his head. “Is this where Borstig is?”

Snakha pointed to the rear of the building. Chumny lay outside of a window. For a moment Ivano thought the creature was dead but its chest slowly rose and fell.

“That beast never leaves his side…”

“You’re starting to get it.” Snakha chuckled. “I’m sure that you’ve hit your head on something. You must have.”

Snakha led them towards Chumny, the beast slowly roused and looked at them. It glanced up once before returning to sleep. As they neared Ivano could hear the unmistakable sound of someone having a furious sexual bout. Judging by the moans the woman was losing, badly.

“I didn’t think he even understood what sex was,” Ivano said softly. “He seems so out of it most of the time.”

“I still think he doesn’t.” Snakha pulled his hood back and peered through the window. “But it appears the boy has a few natural advantages.”

Ivano didn’t really want to spy on someone having sex but he was somewhat curious. Ulfheid, the ruler of the Wind Walkers, lay naked, face down on the bed, gripping the sheets with all her might and biting hard to stifle her screams. Behind her stood Borstig, thrusting wildly while wrapping his arms around Ulfhied’s muscular body. He was whimpering louder than she was, shouting her name while he tried to grip even tighter.

“He’s going to be done if he goes that hard,” Ivano said.

“He’s been going like that since I left.” Snakha chuckled softly. “He hasn’t stopped. It’s no wonder that she’s like that.”

“Spying on people having sex isn’t my idea of fun.” Ivano eyed off Snakha. “You could have just told me that he was fucking Ulfheid.”

“Would you have believed me?”

“No...No I don’t think I would have.”

“And he’s got a very impressive weapon,” Snakha smirked. “Makes me feel a bit nervous.”

Ivano looked up once more. Borstig gave a final thrust before falling to one side. Snakha spoke true, Borstig was very impressive, in one area at least. Ulfheid whimpered and crawled to his side, kissing and caressing him.

“I think we’ve seen enough.” Ivano pulled Snakha away. “This...Is actually probably the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

“You actually wanted him to fight her? She’d have killed him in one strike.”

Ivano found himself breaking into a smile. “If Borstig can convince Ulfheid to go along with Arnkel’s plan then maybe this is for the best.”

“Sure. He can just take her to bed if she disagrees with anything you say.” Snakha smiled. “Who knew that’s all you had to do.”

“Thank the Gods she was interested in such a gangly boy. You don’t think-”

Ulfheid let out a terrifying scream of ecstasy.

“No.” Snakha smiled. “I don’t think he’s in any sort of trouble. So...What now?”

“I think I’m going to have something to drink. How about you?”

Snakha gently pushed him away from the house and towards the main streets. “I think that’s not a bad idea. All the Clansmen here have never seen an Orc before. They were trying to get me into drinking contests all the time. And they’re willing to pay. So what do you think?”

“I think...I think I might just join you. Today has been interesting, to say the least.” Ivano took one last look towards the longhouse. “But what did he need the bear for?”

Volume 05 - Chapter 29 - (Interlude) - The Cardinal's Work

“Bless you, Cardinal.” A low ranking priest bowed before Cardinal Abeau.

If I have to keep stopping and bowing to every one of these simpletons I’ll die of old age before I reach the end of this hallway!

“As to you.” Abeau forced his most warm smile and bowed his head. “May your day be blessed by His Holy Grace.”

The priest bowed and continued on his way. Abeau could barely hold his face from contorting in rage and disgust.

“At this rate-”

“Your head will pop off. We’ve heard it a thousand times already.”

Abeau angrily glared at the nearest person, Bishop Moïse. The Bishop was still very skittish after their flight from Qaiviel but now that he was surrounded by thick stones walls and thousands of loyal guards he had calmed somewhat. Unfortunately for Abeau he was not the one that had spoken. That honour belonged to the tall, gangly man to his side.

“You’ve been grumbling the moment that we got off that ship.” He smiled, a smile reserved only for the insane, yet the words emanating from his lips were anything but. “I thought a few days in the sea air was supposed to be good for you. Perhaps I heard wrong?”

“You did not hear wrong, Vardon.” Abeau raised a stubby finger to the man. “But...I think you know why I am agitated.”

Vardon nodded seriously. “Yes. We are not here for a good reason.”

“No…”

Vardon stood at the head of their small procession of priests, laden with precious books and materials. He was the head researcher, the man who had created many of the Stitch Soldiers and had overseen Caiden’s improvements, their best and most stable creation. His knowledge about the Stitch Soldiers was immense and his value far higher than Cardinal Abeau’s. Despite this he was more than happy to follow Abeau’s instructions.

“Are they going to kill us?” Moïse asked bluntly. The man had lost considerable weight during the journey, now he was just fat.

“I doubt it.” Abeau nodded them forward. “But the longer we make them wait the worse it’s going to be.”

“Do you want us to wait here?” Vardon asked. He looked to the ceiling. “I could spend some time here and just...Look.”

Abeau followed his sight, as did Moïse. Vardon smiled as he studied the roof of the immense cathedral, the largest cathedral in the known world. The structure was easily the size of a small city and just as tall. One continuous painting decorated the roof, depicting heroic ancient battles along with The Holy Father’s visage looking down on them from the centre.

“I remember someone trying to explain to me how they built this,” Abeau said softly. “How they painted...Enough of this. We can stare at your paintings for as long as you like when we’re done.”

Vardon only smiled and waved his fellow researchers to follow. They were like Vardon, to a degree, but were far more sane and easy to talk to. They were also the ones to carry all of the materials they had rescued from Qaiviel. Vardon never once offered to help and Abeau was not about to ask and potentially upset him. He had no idea what went on behind that man’s smile.

Abeau had to bow and play nice to dozens of priests that he passed. Though he was of a higher rank he was not a Cardinal of the Holy Kingsland. If anything he was a disgraced man from a land that had fallen from the light. He didn’t wish to push his luck any further than necessary.

At the end of the hallway stood a dozen guards, wielding menacing halberds and thick metal plates. Their visors obscured their faces but Abeau knew they were judging if they would actually be a threat.

“Cardinal Abeau. I am here to see the Conclave.”

The guards said nothing and scoured him with their eyes. Again Abeau did nothing, he was not intimidated by these people one iota. If he was he would not be able to withstand the scrutiny of the people he was about to face.

"Very well." The guard knocked on the door with the back of his armoured fist. "They will see you shortly."

"Thank you." Abeau bowed his head but did not offer his blessing, nor did he expect to receive one.

The door opened, a young man waited on the other side and ushered them in. Abeau took a deep breath and entered. The room beyond was far more sparsely decorated than outside, however the pieces were of exceptional quality and supposed holiness. Abeau did not understand how the rusted remains of an ancient dagger could be a holy relic. He kept his mouth shut, just in case someone was listening.

"The Conclave gathered the moment you arrived at the port." The young priest spoke with an incredibly high pitched and soft voice. Abeau was glad that he had not been forced to become a eunuch when he was younger, only to miss life's great pleasures.

"I understand. Is everyone here? At least one or two are normally away."

"Today they are all here." The young priest softly sighed. "For better or for worse."

"Probably worse," Abeau said snidely.

"Do you wish to freshen yourselves before meeting them? It would take little time."

"We will be fine." Abeau smiled. "We've already wasted enough of their time."

The young priest led them further into the Cathedral before beginning to descend a flight of stairs. Again murals and paintings adorned the white walls gaudy golden edifices, much to Vardon's delight, but they had no time to delay. Eventually, the stairs flattened out and led them to a large door. The guards here were far better armed than those above, magically enchanted weapons and armour, for beyond the Adamantium barred doors lay the assembled Conclave, rulers of the Holy Kingsland in all but name.

The guards saluted as the priest knocked on the door. A tiny porthole opened, an eye stared through for just a moment before slamming shut. Metal ground against stone and one of the doors began to open.

"Don't say anything." Abeau looked to Vardon and Moïse. "That means both of you. Not a word. Understood?"

Both nodded but Abeau wondered if Vardon was going to behave like normal, uncontrolled but with a flair of genius.

The air changed the moment they stepped through. Somehow it felt old and warm, like no fresh air had reached these depths in some time. In all likelihood, it had not.

A raised plinth lay in the centre of the room, surrounding that were the Conclave, ancient men resting in large, plush chairs, those too raised above the ground. Each man wore resplendent clothes, signifying both their station and the wealth of the Church. Abeau did not know most by name, most were just bitter old men, except for the man sitting across from the plinth. The leader of the Conclave. The Ethereal Pope.

"Step forward," A guard said loudly. Abeau did not see them initially, their armour blended in nearly perfectly with the shadows and their surroundings. "Cardinal Abeau. The Conclave wishes to pass judgment upon you."

Judgment? Most of these old men haven't done anything for most of their lives. Except...Except indulged in certain vices. I've never understood why they go for them when they're so young. Nothing is developed...Perhaps it's the sense of power? A sense no one their own age has ever given them.

Abeau's thoughts elicited a faint smile on his face. Rather than hide it he simply walked to plinth, motioning for the others to stand back. The researchers waited near the door, they did not have the opportunity to try something stupid.

"Greet-"

“How dare your worthless hide in our presence!” One of the decrepit men yelled. “You dare to show yourself before us, before the holy place after what you have done!”

Abeau said nothing, nor did he even move his expression. Instead, he flicked his eyes to the Ethereal Pope. He sat motionlessly, barely blinking as he watched the proceedings.

So he wants to see how I handle this? Fair enough. I wouldn’t put my neck out for someone who appears to be in my position.

“Are you done?” Abeau asked. The old man fumed, so much anger coursed through his wrinkled face that he could not properly formulate words. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted...Greetings, honoured members of the Conclave. My name-”

“We know who you are!” Another old man yelled. The first nodded emphatically, some of the others shook their heads and suppressed a wry and knowing smile. “You are the sole reason Qaiviel has fallen from the light. Fallen from the holy path-”

The man stopped as he suffered a tremendous coughing fit, spraying off coloured spit over his desk. Abeau remained perfectly silent until the man stopped.

“My name is Cardinal Abeau.” Abeau bowed. “And I have come from Qaiviel. We were unable to stop the faithless from assuming control of the kingdom.”

“You-”

The Ethereal Pope raised his finger. Immediately the man fell silent, even though the Ethereal Pope had barely moved or even blinked.

“You squabble like children.” The Ethereal Pope spoke softly, with a slight crackle to his elderly voice. “Not befitting members of the Conclave. Perhaps that is why Qaiviel has fallen from the light. Surely one of you must have interfered...It sounds like something old, sad, little men would do.”

The other members of the Conclave fell incredibly silent, especially those that had spoken before.

“Continue.”

“Despite what is being said I do have to inform you that Qaiviel has indeed fallen.” Abeau waited as the two old men began grumbling under their breaths. “We have fled those lands to tell you what happened. Which, I might add, I would have already done if we had not been so rudely interrupted.”

“You had considerable wealth and resources.” The Ethereal Pope’s bony finger tapped a small stack of papers before him. “And the support of King Harold and his mother, Valerie. How did you lose?”

Abeau took a slow deep breath, to grant him time to properly think.

There’s no point in lying...But if a few things are omitted or changed then it’’ll still look acceptable.

“Unfortunately the coup was launched too early.” Abeau began. “Valerie killed the King, but...He was about to outlaw the Church from operating in Qaiviel lands because a few of our followers were overzealous in dealing with a distant member of the royal family.”

“If you were forced to act then you had no choice.” The Ethereal Pope slowly nodded. “But you should have had more than sufficient forces. Not to mention Qaiviel was the testing site for our research.”

“Those items performed extremely well.” Abeau smiled. “Extremely well. However there were complications. Specifically, a mercenary that proved to be extremely dangerous to our research. Though we lost one of our most successful experiments it would have destroyed King Leo’s forces…”

“Some ridiculous story of a mercenary mage.” A third man began to speak. “Just to cover up for your inadequacies.”

The Ethereal Pope scoffed. “Though it sounds implausible I have conducted thorough investigations and discovered this to be true. So, before you begin accusing another of hiding behind a figment of their imagination I suggest you look at yourself. You may think that you covered up your little incident but I know the truth. So be quiet.”

While the other two noisy priests merely grumbled and silently blustered when the Ethereal Pope talked them down, this man positively quivered in his robes. He shrunk low, trying to be subtle but could have not been more obvious, while Abeau tried to hide his smile.

“I understand that this is a difficult time,” Abeau said. “But, and I know this is unfortunate, but I speak true. I believe that this heretical mage was instrumental in defeating our forces in Qaiviel. Or...At the very least, destroying Caiden. He had fallen into such a state that he could have destroyed Leo’s entire army but was destroyed before he could do any significant damage.”

Abeau glanced at Moïse. “Attempts to assassinate him were unsuccessful, despite using every available method.”

“Unfortunate.” The Ethereal Pope slowly nodded. “Very well. I think we’ve heard enough. This all happened in such a short time too, far too quick for us to mobilize forces to aid you...It is very unfortunate.”

“It is.” Abeau bowed. “However, we were able to escape with all of our research intact. We can resume our research at any moment.”

Vardon took a step forward but quickly stepped back. Abeau was glad to know that he, of all people, could determine that now was the right time for him to speak.

“I see…” The Ethereal Pope rubbed his chin. “The Conclave is dismissed. I will speak with Abeau and his companions alone.”

All bar the three cantankerous old men left without incident. Those three required the guards to usher them out. Once large and metal covered hands touched their shoulders. They gave a final grumble and filled out of the room.

“Your research assistants can stay here.” The Ethereal Pope groaned and pushed the chair back. “You and your two...Friends, come with me. There is more to discuss.”

Two guards rushed to his side but the Ethereal Pope dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He dropped down and began walking around the tables towards Abeau. Now that he was free from the chair his back was very stooped, it took effort to raise his head but he was not mentally feeble. Far from it. Abeau had seen many people far younger than him without as anywhere near as much intelligence and drive that hid behind those old eyes.

“It is unfortunate that we were unable to send assistance.” He stopped at the final table and nodded to the far wall. One of the guards hurried and opened a door, almost identical to the surrounding wall. Beyond a bright warm light shone through. “We had started to mobilize forces but the last message we received, it was not going well. We dared not send forces against King Leo or Queen Lila while they were in command. Going such distances without a clear supply line...And with the pirates...Not to mention the Mycean’s would think we were about to invade them. Our ships would fill the seas, filling them with terror. Especially when they realised how many soldiers were traveling in those ships. Perhaps just by the sheer amount of vomit trailing behind.”

“But they are a potential target.” Abeau followed the Ethereal Pope into the room, Vardon and Moïse right behind. “If it weren’t for the Conflagration it would be an easy decision.”

The hidden room was exceptionally well furnished and surprisingly comfortable. The hot and stuffy air had vanished, through what means Abeau did not know, replaced with a delicate and not unpleasant smell of fruits.

The Ethereal Pope shuffled to a plush chair and gently laid himself down. When his rear made contact a soft groan escaped his lips. Now he could straighten his back and sit normally, the weight of his body was no longer being lifted by frail and old muscles. He motioned to a large couch, which Abeau took. Vardon and Moïse took the other spots, further down as to not crowd Abeau.

“Mycea is a target.” The Ethereal Pope removed his hat. Abeau was surprised to see all of his hair still present, albeit grey and frayed. “But that is what you were supposed to be researching in Qaiviel. It appears we will have to return to more traditional methods.”

“They did perform well.” Abeau glanced at Vardon. “I’m sure that with some further experimentation they will serve well as shock troops.”

The Ethereal Priest slowly nodded. He placed his wrinkled hands on his knees.

“I do not think that I am long for this world.” He barred his teeth. “Every day I can feel death drawing closer and closer...But. I do not wish to leave the Church in a worse state than when I found it.”

Abeau cast his eyes down and away. Though he did not care about his feelings, acting completely uncaring was not the right move.

“Losing a Kingdom…”

“Is a significant loss. But I intend to see it brought back under our control before I die.” The Ethereal Pope smiled. “And if we can gain some more territory than that would be even better. Tell me.” He shuffled slightly to face Abeau. “Do you think this mercenary mage will be an issue?”

“Absolutely. Especially if we try and invade Qaiviel…” Abeau clicked his tongue. “From the reports he’s a Graterian man travelling with a Bebbezzarian woman. There were also some talk of a woman wearing a mask and a Clanswomen with him. Someone from the Silver Eagle clan.”

The Ethereal Pope scoffed. “An odd mix. Truly an odd mix. Hire assassins from every corner of the Shattered Kingdoms. It doesn’t matter how much, offer whatever they desire so they will kill him.”

“Ac…” Moïse quickly shrunk down. Abeau, though a little annoyed, silently urged him to speak. “According to some of the assassins that failed to kill him in Qaiviel they were almost successful. If they were not in such a crowded place…”

“I’m sure this mage would have been able to use his magic more effectively then.” The Ethereal Pope ran his fingers along the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, no one can survive a bolt to the head. I will see to it that they are dead.”

“And...What of us?”

“You…” The Ethereal Pope smiled. “I shall indulge myself for a little while. An old man, like myself does not get many chances-”

I’m sure the ‘boys’ are grateful for that.

“But what do you suggest we do?”

“We…” Abeau looked back, hoping that one might have an idea. Vardon did not but Moïse silently mouthed a word. “Bebbezzar.”

“What about it?”

“They are still in a civil war. Fractured and divided, they would not stand a chance against our might. Even without the Stitch Soldiers-”

“I detest that name.” The Ethereal Pope leant back. “Could you please use the name we all agreed on?”

Honestly, that’s what they look like. You can call an apple a pig but it’s still an apple.

“The Ascended. Even without them Bebbezzar would not last long in its current state.”

“There are many faithful in Bebbezzar.” Moïse offered. “That could be a...pretence.”

Abeau nodded. “And it would keep Mycea off our backs.”

“The Dark Elves are now peacefully trading.” The Ethereal Pope’s eyes narrowed. “So they won’t be an issue to our fleets. Not that we can navigate their mists effectively.”

“Bebbezzar would serve as good ground to organise and continue onwards to Qaiviel.” Abeau smiled. “Then perhaps take out Seocuria and their Beast-kin slaves and even Graterious, the last power in the Shattered Kingdoms that could oppose us.”

“Aren’t you missing one?” Vardon asked. “I’ve seen the maps of the continent. There’s still the Clansmen-”

Abeau scoffed. “They aren’t as much of a threat as they think they are. The Knight orders are able to keep them at bay easily.” Abeau’s brows furrowed. “So long as they attack in the right direction.”

“I was trying to say…” Abeau almost laughed as Vardon looked to be pouting. “That I’m sure there’s another one. Actually another two.”

“There’s the Wood Elves to the south.” The Ethereal Pope frowned lightly. “Then the dead Kar Kingdom. I’m surprised that neither Qaiviel nor Graterious took that land.”

“It is infested with monsters and beasts. Qaiviel did not wish to antagonise them and Graterious has political issues.” Abeau shrugged. “Valérie was convinced that there was something terrible there. Leading a crusade against something that lay there. A truly powerful foe, she said. She was mad. Quite insane, especially near the end.”

Abeau leant back and crossed his legs. “She was bedding her son. And was pregnant with their incestuous child.”

The Ethereal Pope scoffed. “To think either of those...The dead Kar Kingdom. We will sweep through there after dealing with Bebbezzar and Qaiviel. Graterious won’t expect it. Then we can deal with Seocuria and their disgusting Beast-kin slaves.”

“Are you trying to become the United Empire?” Vardon asked. “Seems like it.”

The Ethereal Pope slowly started to smile. “Perhaps that isn’t a bad thing. The United Empire controlled almost all of the world. And if it weren’t for the Wood Elves they would have...They will renounce their belief in their goddess, Nithroel, in time. In time...Certainly not in my lifetime but perhaps in yours.”

Abeau said nothing but slowly nodded.

“How will we prepare for the assault on Bebbezzar?”

“You.” The Ethereal pope raised his hand to a book on a table. The guards, standing at the door, rushed and retrieved it for him. “Thank you. You, all of you, will not be involved with planning the invasion. Too much busy work; troops, supplies, ships and money. Any fool can do that. Perhaps I’ll get some of those grumbling gits to do some of the work?”

“Are you sure you want this invasion to fail?”

The Ethereal Pope laughed. “They’ll do it well, since I’ll tell them to do it. And I’ll bring up your name just to give them a bit of incentive. But...But I want you to continue your research.”

He unfurled a map of The Holy Kingsland.

“You and your friends will head to here.” He pointed to a small monastery, nestled in the mountains but close to the coast. “Currently it is not being used by anything more than a small covenant. They will be removed before you arrive. Use that as the base of your new research. Take all the prisoners you need for experiments. But do not waste them needlessly.”

“I understand.” Abeau glanced back to see Vardon bouncing his feet up and down like an excited child. “We will produce results and quickly.”

“I must acquire more materials.” Vardon calmed himself with a few quick, short breaths. “But that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Good. Money will be provided, as much as you need, but do not spend it on frivolous activities. If you wish to do that use your own money.”

“We understand that this is incredibly important work,” Abeau said. “I believe that we should depart this afternoon, at the very latest.”

The Ethereal Pope nodded. “Good. Good. I look forward to seeing your work, to see an army like this Caiden you speak of. That would be truly remarkable. Might put some life back into me.”

The Ethereal Pope closed his eyes, signalling the end of the conversation. Abeau quietly stood up as the guards moved to escort him away.

You’re right. You don’t have long left for this world. But this will be useful. Perfecting the Stitch Soldiers will go a long way…

Abeau paused.

What do I want?...Oh well. There’s still time to work that out. If I can rule Qaiviel that will be a start. Who knows, I might end up as the Ethereal Pope after this is all done. A stray bolt might just fly straight through his head…

Volume 05 - Chapter 30 - (Interlude) - Sally's Resolve

Sally was no longer confined to the cells of Surdon. Now she was confined to one of the tallest towers, a tower in relatively good condition that gave her unimpeded view over the snow covered lands of the dead Kar Kingdom. She was not cold as a fireplace had been provided, a small flickering flame with a large stack of dry, chopped wood beside. Sally could not bear to bring herself to look too closely, otherwise she would see the teeth and claw marks.

“What am I doing?” Sally leant against the wooden railing, resting her head on the cold glass window. Her breath fogged the glass. She rubbed it away and almost smiled. “Just…”

Sally held her mouth as she threatened to vomit. While she was safe the rest of her village, a small Graterian border village called Soulthor, was being brutalised in ways she knew she could not imagine.

That’s not entirely true. All the men are dead…

She thumped her head onto the glass once more. “Maybe I should just throw myself off this tower? At least I won’t have to see this anymore.”

As Sally’s hand reached for the door to the outside balcony something held her back. A thought, a spark of defiance. She knew that these cultists were mad, utterly insane, and wished to bring about the end of the world as they knew it. And, judging by Mihal’s enthusiasm they might actually be able to do it. Controlling the Goblins was proof enough for her.

“Most of this city is wood…I wonder how quickly it could burn? If it gets hot enough…Mother mentioned roof pitch-”

“Sally!” A cheery young voice called from behind the locked door. “Are you there?”

Sally took a slow, deep breath. In another life, another time, she and Mihal would probably be good friends. But here, she didn’t know what they were.

“Of course I’m in here.” Sally bit her lip. Sounding snide and acting rude was the last thing she needed to do. If she annoyed Mihal enough she would no longer be under his protection, whatever that really meant. Regardless, it was the only thing keeping her alive. “The door’s locked-”

The metal lock clicked and the door slowly swung open. Mihal stood on the other side, smiling happily as he held the large iron key in his hand. Despite the cold and snow continuing to increase he wore surprisingly little. His hands had not turned pale nor did he shiver from the cold.

Is whatever they’re doing to him making him like that?

“They let me have this.” He walked happily to the centre of the room. “Said that I’m the only one they trust to keep you safe…It’s really warm in here, you know? Climbing up that tower isn’t fun.” Mihal laughed as he approached the fire and outstretched his hands to catch the rising heat. “The stone makes it really cold. But this? This makes it all worth it.”

“Really?” Sally moved to the fireplace. “Just for the fire?”

“Not really.” Mihal smiled. “I just wanted to see you.”

In another place…

“Oh. There is something.” Mihal clapped his hands together. “They’ve just opened the vaults underneath the castle. It took them a long time but that witch…What was her name? Elu…Something. Anyway, she helped them get through the last of the magical locks.”

Mihal gently rubbed his temple. “She said they were annoying at best and that Ghenadie should have been able to get through it by himself.”

Those two do not like each other. Is…Can something happen there? Not much I could do. They both dislike me.

“I’m sure your grandfather would have been able to figure it out sooner or later.” Sally forced her hand to stop shaking as she patted Mihal’s head, something he took greedily. “He was probably just focusing on something else, something more important.”

Mihal nodded. “Yeah. He’s been ordering construction of something…Said that the vault is the perfect place to put it.”

Sally looked at Mihal’s stomach, where the tattoos of the silvery metal had been made.

“And redesigning the city.”

“Oh? What is he doing there?” Sally tried to act as innocently as possible.

Mihal shrugged. “I’m not sure. But he was building a lot of things within the inner wall. I know the Goblins weren’t happy to have all of their home torn down in the middle of winter but they’re getting better ones now.”

“Well…That’s good.”

If they’re all in the middle and a big enough fire gets going then maybe, just maybe, it could do some damage.

Sally glanced to the north.

But I really need to get out of here and find this other city. They need to know what’s happening.

She glanced back at Mihal, already warming his hands once again.

And maybe they can stop whatever madness is happening here.

---[]---

Mihal happily skipped down the stone spiral stair case, down from Sally’s tower towards the bottom most layer of the castle. Sally watched in silence as she followed closely. It would only take a single push and Mihal wouldn’t stop until he reached the bottom, but something in the back of her mind told her that she would be a replacement for Mihal if anything went wrong, probably the only reason why Ghenadie allowed her to live freely. Sally shuddered at the thought. Her pausing for a single moment was enough for Mihal to turn back and look, while continuing to walk down the steps.

Just one push…

Sally smiled and continued walking. A clanging began to echo throughout the stone stairway. Soulthor was a small border town but it had a smith. She remembered hearing the banging of metal and this war far, far louder. Sally stopped at the door where the sound of metalworking was loudest. Mihal only realized that she was not by his side when his head had almost disappeared around the corner. He pouted and groaned dramatically but still happily returned to her side.

"What are you looking at?" Mihal asked in a whisper.

"I didn't think you had Smiths...Inside the castle."

"Oh. Ghenadie spoke with one of the Reds and they had some brought in here. I don't know much about it myself but they were saying that it would be easier...No. That's not the right word." Mihal lightly slapped his temple. "Efficient. That was the word. Efficient."

The door was not locked so Sally easily pushed it open. What was once a loud muffled clanging became so loud that Sally winced at the pain. When she opened her eyes again she almost stumbled back. Six Black Goblins, their skin as dark as the night, patrolled along a line of glowing forges. Smaller Greens stoked to fires and worked in teams to work mighty bellows to keep the fires red hot. Blue and Purple Goblins rammed pieces of steel into the coals, snarling and jabbering at one another, always appearing to be on the verge of snapping and killing one another.

"M...Mihal?" Sally made sure he was closer before peering in once again. "Why are they blue and purple?"

"Hmm?" Mihal moved close and looked underneath her arm. "Oh. The Blue Goblins can use magic. Not a lot but only they can. And they're pretty smart. Not as smart as me..." Mihal coughed to dispel some redness creeping up his cheeks. "So they know how to use the Forge properly. The Purples? I really don't like them, Sally. Something about them just makes me feel odd."

You can actually feel disgust when you look at these things?

Sally looked in again. While the Blue Goblins looked normal, about the size of a Yellow, the Purple Goblins looked more human. If such a thing was possible. However their lips were always curled up into a sneer. None of the others looked like them.

A pairing of Blue and Purple finished hammering at a sword and thrust it into a waiting bucket of water. Sally knew very little about weapons but the edge did not look sharp. Either they would sharpen it later or it would simply be used to bludgeon their enemies. They drew the blade out and idly tossed it into a container to their side, the sword clanged loudly as it fell onto a pile of loose metal.

At the far end of the room a pair of Goblins approached, one Red and the other Black. Sally immediately knew something was wrong. The Black Goblin was exceptionally large, almost as tall as an adult, with muscles to match. However it looked very stupid. It's mouth hanged open slightly as a thin strand of drool ran down its lips. The Red had a diminutive arm that lay locked against its side. It would be useless in battle, and for any other activity, but it held an air of superiority. The other Goblins shied away as it passed, not wanting to be the one to receive its gaze.

"Did that happen in battle?" Sally asked.

"I don't think so. That Red Goblin is really, really smart. But...I think it was born like that. Must have been tough for him." Mihal looked up at Sally. "They don't like babies being born with deformities."

What a terrible race.

The Red and the Black stopped by the Blue and Purple pair that had just finished. It chittered something to the Black, who picked up the sword. He swung it back and forth before the Red chittered again. Without any change in its dumb face it brought the sword down onto the edge of the forge, shattering the sword cleanly into two.

The Blue and Purple looked very worried as the Red began to scream at it, pointing at them, then to the red hot fire. The Greens and Yellows stoking the fire did their best to pretend everything was fine.

"I think we should go." Mihal's warm hand tugged on Sally's. "We aren't supposed to be here anyway. And that Red looks pretty angry."

Mihal touched the amulet dangling around his chest. "I don't think even this will be enough to get him to listen."

It would be so easy to rip that off your neck and throw it at them. But...What good would that do? I'd be killed too, and no one would warn the people to the north what is coming for them.

Sally smiled and followed Mihal down the stairs, the Red's screaming echoing down the winding stone staircase.

“I think it’s just one more down.” Mihal said happily. Despite the enormous distance they had travelled he did not appear to be tired. Quite a strange thing. “Then I can show you all the awesome stuff we found down there.”

“Gold and jewels?” Sally asked. “If this is an old capital that’s what they’ve have in their vault. Right?”

“Oh there’s lots of that.” Mihal smiled. “But there’s some other stuff down there too. Things I don’t understand. I hope that you can make more sense of it than me.”

Sally gripped her hands tight and followed the insane young boy.

As the staircase ended and led to a single door Sally saw the first other people than Mihal. These were adult cultists, all belonging to The Ancient Listeners. Sally despised them all, especially the way they proudly held their amulets on their chest. She had managed to extract from Mihal, through innocent questions, that without them they would be attacked. One of the reasons why Sally dared not explore Surdon without Mihal by her side.

“Oh…You brought her?” One of the adult women asked. Sally didn’t know why but the cold way they spoke gave her chills. The only ones that spoke normally were Mihal and Ghenadie, but they didn’t speak about normal things.

“Of course I did!” Mihal pouted. “She’s my friend. And I don’t want her not to see this stuff. Where else is she going to see such wonderful paintings?”

You brought me here to look at paintings? Well…Better than being in that tower, I suppose.

“When we march of Graterious and Qaiviel we will have much better things to see.” The cultist almost smiled. “Far better things.”

“Okay…” Mihal shrugged, turned to Sally and offered his hand. “Come on. They won’t bother you if you’re with me.”

The moment Sally’s fingers touched his skin she recoiled. Mihal frowned and tilted his head.

“Your skin is burning.” Sally hesitantly touched it again. “Are you sick? Only someone sick has skin so hot.”

“I don’t feel sick.” Mihal held his cheeks, pressing his hands hard against his face. “They don’t feel warm either. Maybe you’re just cold. That always makes things feel hotter.”

“That…That is true. But I think you’re still very warm. Especially on such a cold day.”

A male cultist scoffed. “Do not pester him with your useless thoughts. He has far greater ambitions than idly discussing heat with you.”

Mihal stuck out his tongue and took Sally’s hand once more. Through the long corridor Sally counted at least a hundred cultists, all gathered before the massive white metalled vault door and carrying crudely fashioned boxes. They held each box like their life depended on it. Despite their general annoyance at Sally’s presence they moved far away when she walked through, their normally cold eyes nervously flicking to the boxes.

“What are they carrying?” Sally asked.

Mihal stopped abruptly, spun to face the nearest cultist and stomped his foot. “What’s in the box?”

“Forgive me.” The cultist bowed his head until it touched the wooden frame. “But Ghenadie bade us not to tell anyone of our purpose. And that includes you.”

“See?” Mihal scoffed and continued walking. “They don’t tell me anything. One day they will, I’m certain of it.”

As they approached the vault door Sally grew increasingly worried. The metal had been ripped apart by some unimaginable force. Standing to one side she saw Ghenadie and the witch woman, Eluria. She made every effort to not make eye contact, something that was reciprocated. Despite that something was different about her. There was little anger radiating from her, unlike normal. Sally didn’t know exactly why she joined these cultists but whatever it was it was no longer the driving force it once was. Regardless she dared not look any longer lest the witch’s attentions fall upon her.

Flickering torches illuminated the massive vault, the interior was far larger than anything Sally had expected. Wooden shelves contained rows upon rows of chests. The few cultists that were already inside, with their disgusting Goblin lackeys, were busy hauling them towards the centre of the room and then out. A Goblin nearly dropped it underneath the weight and was severally beaten for its mistake, but Sally caught a glimpse of the gold and jewels that were literally bursting out.

“How much wealth did these people have?” Sally whispered.

Mihal stopped one of the Goblins. It sneered and snarled at Mihal but did not try and attack, nor did it drop its chest. Sally knew that it wanted to kill Mihal, even more than its next breath. Mihal ignored it and pulled out a fistful of gold and precious gems.

“Here you go.” Mihal casually dropped the heavy bundle of wealth into her hands. “You can have as much as you want. I’m sure Ghenadie wouldn’t mind.”

“But…You can’t…”

No. Don’t get too angry or upset with them. They’re going to do it regardless of whether or not I’m here. All I can do is learn and pass that on.

“Are they just going to sell these for gold?” Sally asked. “So you can buy tools and metal?”

“Metal?” Mihal cocked his head.

“Those…Goblins, they cannot wear armour intended for humans.”

“No they cannot.” A shiver ran down Sally’s spine as Ghenadie spoke loudly. She looked back and was glad to see the Witch was not with him. “But buying iron ore is relatively expensive. We can just mine it here. Iron ore is one of the most common metals, unlike Chelium or Bosciycium. Or Adamantium.”

He nodded to the door. “We do not have the capacity to smelt or even work such metal. That is the realm of the Dwarves, and will long be beyond our reach.”

“Do you intend to attack the Dwarves one day?”

Sally did not know where the Dwarves lived, or even what they looked like. Her father had explained they were squat humans with large beards that could work metal as a child better than a master smith. Sally doubted that was true but they were always spoken of in revered tones.

“Perhaps…If that is what the Ancient Gods will.” Ghenadie smiled. “Humans have caused them the most pain, them and the Wood Elves.”

Keep him talking.

“Are there not Wood Elves to the south? If you are in the former Kar Kingdom I’m sure there’s one in that direction.”

“Yeah.” Mihal nodded seriously. “I remember someone saying something like that.”

Ghenadie pulled an annoyed face, like he didn’t want Mihal to know of such things. “There is. But unlike the human kingdoms and empires to our north they are extremely strong and organised. It will take all of our forces to destroy them. And…” His eyes focused on Mihal’s stomach, where the silver tattoos were focused. “And I believe that we will need more direct guidance. Their Goddess holds tremendous power. If we were to attack foolishly she could simply command the forests to attack us. Not to mention the Wood Elves have had generations to prepare and train. There is no way that one would fall to even a hundred Goblins.”

“Wow…” Mihal’s face brightened. “I want to see one! They sound so…Awesome! Imagine an Elf, swinging a sword and shooting a bow.”

Mihal began to exaggeratedly imitate how he thought a Wood Elf would fight.

“It would be dangerous but I really, really want to see one.”

“In time.” Ghenadie ruffled his hair. “In time. But why are you two down here? We are continuing construction but we still have some time before the next stage of the ritual.”

“I snuck in before and saw some of the paintings.” Mihal explained. “They looked beautiful. Have you gotten rid of them already? I wanted to show Sally…She doesn’t have much to do up in that tower.”

“I don’t see why not.” Ghenadie waved to a passing cultist. “Accelerate the construction. Right now. Bring in as many Goblins as you need. Just get this place cleared. Now.”

The cultist nodded and hurriedly left. Ghenadie pointed to the far wall of the vault. Four Goblins mulled about, idly picking at the chests they had allowed to fall. Ghenadie tapped his boot, the four suddenly became alert and hurried about their business.

“Wow…” Sally was lost for words when she finally saw the paintings.

They were huge works of art, easily nine or twelve feet tall and twenty wide, each showing a majestic scene in their own right. Several were of beautiful rolling hills and grasslands, others titanic battles between massive armies. She approached one and peered extremely close. Nearly every brush stroke looked as if it was purposefully planned and handled with care.

“Who made these?” Sally asked when she realised she had not spoken for some time.

“I do not know.” Ghenadie softly replied. “The Kar Kingdom fell long before we arrived, and these were commissioned well into their reign. But I am impressed that these have survived in such good condition for so long.”

“So what are you going to do with them?”

And why are you suddenly being so nice to me?

“Most we will have to sell.” Ghenadie tried to placate a shocked Mihal. “We will need all the money we can get. And collectors will buy these are extremely high prices.”

Not that money matters to you if you want to destroy the world. If anything you’ll be able to get your money back.

“We’ll keep this one.” Mihal pointed to a slightly smaller painting, smaller being subjective, depicting a siege of a human castle by a mixture of humans, reptile people and Orcs, at least that’s what Sally thought the large green humanoids were. “This one is so…There’s a lot going on in the painting.”

“There is.” Ghenadie nodded. “Alright. I don’t see a problem with that. That won’t be a problem-”

“Ghenadie!” A cultist called out. “We have an issue.”

Ghenadie clicked his tongue and walked over as quickly as his old, arthritic legs would allow.

“Why do you want to keep any of these?” Sally asked. A part of her wanted to lecture him about what the funds would go towards, how many innocent people, like her town, would suffer as a result. But he, and the rest of the cult, didn’t see it that way. “They do look good. But...”

“I think it looks good.” Mihal smiled. “But I wanted you to have it. There’s not much to see from that tower. Everything’s covered in snow and…That’s about it for hundreds of miles. Not to mention you can’t go into the city itself, not that there’s a lot to see in there anyway.”

“No…No there isn’t.”

Perfect time to try to gather some more information.

“Mihal?”

“Yes?” He trotted closer. Sally found it strange how quickly his emotions could change.

“The houses in the central ring. For the Goblins. Do they have anything that they use to keep their rooves together?”

“Rooves…Together?” Mihal chuckled nervously. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

“Do they use tar or pitch to make them waterproof? If they don’t they’ll get soaked when the snow starts to melt.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. I think they have…” A loud clunk behind them caught Mihal’s attention. “Yeah. The black stuff. I don’t think the Goblins like using it, but Ghenadie and the others had them use it to cover the rooves. There was a whole bunch in one of the warehouses, just sitting there. Can you imagine that? After all this time there are just barrels and barrels of it sitting there and it’s still good? Amazing stuff.”

“Yes…Yes it is.”

Now I just need to find if they’ve got any more, start a big fire that’ll rip through the city and escape to the north. A horse might be able to get through the snow…At the very least they’ll be faster than a Goblin. Even if I have to trudge through it myself.

“Where-”

As Sally was about to inquire about horses the clunks became louder. Mihal kept Sally close as they approached the source of the sound, Mihal kept them behind one of the partially empties stacks and leant around.

The cultists had placed one of their crudely made boxes onto the ground. Her hands shook as she prepared to open the box.

“If it’s just a box…”

Another cultist pried the wooden walls free. Sally was a little surprised they were so worried over a metal statue, really a large needle with a donut shaped well around the base. As she continued to look she quickly realised it was not made from just some metal but the liquid silver she had touched during her first day in Surdon. Memories of the momentary contact came back, the overwhelming anger and pain.

All of those boxes…But what for?

Sally nudged Mihal’s side. He glanced back, Sally glared at the metal piece.

“I don’t know.” Mihal said softly. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Ghenadie emerged through the crowed, looking quite pleased with himself. “Make sure they are properly situated. If they are not in the correct position do not remove the wooden protective frame. Remember not to touch them under any circumstances. I think you all know why.”

All of the cultists nodded in unison. One pointed to the dozens of wooden shelves.

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll all be gone before the end of the day. The Goblins will see to that.”

Without a further word the cultists began to bring their crates in. One cultist near the ruined door held up a piece of paper, another halted each of the cultists and gave them a very specific order.

“Has to be precise. But…”

Sally did not ask her question. She already knew what these crazy people were planning to do.

“Mihal? Could you ask your grandfather what this is? And don’t tell him that I asked. Pretend that I’m not even here.”

“Why?”

Sally faintly smiled. “Because I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“I think he does.” Mihal quickly approached Ghenadie. “He just has a strange way of showing it.”

That is so not true.

“Ghenadie.” Mihal spoke with a childlike, curious tone. “What are you doing?”

Ghenadie smiled. “Simply preparing the next step of the ritual. We need somewhere safe and secure, somewhere no one will be able to get us.” The elderly man smiled. “If someone disrupts us during this stage it will be extremely bad for us.”

“Right…” Mihal stepped closer to the metal spikes. Ghenadie barred him with his hand. “But what does it do?”

“In time.” Ghenadie ushered him back. “But I can assure you, you will be very interested in what happens here.”

When he says that…

Mihal shrugged and returned to Sally. Sally expected Ghenadie to glare at her, like he normally did, but he did nothing but smile, not even as an attempt to hide his displeasure. That made Sally even more nervous.

“I don’t know what it is.” Mihal dramatically sighed. “But there that ring thing at the bottom is like a big cup. Oh, and there’s a channel running down the length to collect something from the top of the spike.”

“We can’t spare a single drop…” A nearby cultist tried to offer his opinion as he carried his crate. A quick glare from everyone around silenced him.

A single drop of what? Blood?

Sally looked again at the spikes. If someone was impaled upon them their blood would be collected. But an adult human would have too much for the donut ring at the bottom, and Sally was sure that she was the only child left from her village. A goblin walking past caught her eye. They were small enough to fill the donut.

But why them? What’s so important about those disgusting things blood?

The cultists quickly began to fan out amongst the dimly lit shelves and place their boxes down. Each contained another spike, all glistened in the flickering torchlight.

Ghenadie isn't going to tell us what the next stage of this ritual is. He didn't tell Mihal he was going to put those tattoos on him. I cannot do anything but watch and listen. I can't even ask Ghenadie about the pitch and tar. He's crazy, but it wouldn't take him long to work out what I'm thinking.

Sally's eyes were drawn to a group of four cultists dragging in a much larger crate than the others. The wood was just as ramshackle but she knew it was something very important. It was carefully moved to the center of the vault as the empty shelves were torn apart to make room.

"Oh." Mihal began to clap. "I think I know what this is."

Sally did not know if he was trying to impress him or he genuinely knew. The cultists removed the wood and almost basked in the radiance of what lay inside. It was little more than a solid flat block, except a large bowl lay embedded in the middle. From that bowl hundreds of fine grooves covered the surface, spreading out in strange shapes and patterns.

"Our most important relic." Mihal spoke with pride. "Something that has been with us from the very beginning. It is an altar where Gods and their Avatars can be reborn. I've never seen it myself but I'm told it needs a lot of blood and a large sacrifice."

Sally's body tensed. She knew Ghenadie had kept her alive for some reason but never expected to actually see it. The cultists began to place metal implements onto the surface: knives, a series of long chained shackles and other restraints but one looked like it was designed to be inserted and spread something wide.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Mihal smiled. "You're a strong girl. Like me...Well, not a girl. But strong! Right?"

Sally didn't hear his words. Her mind had simply stopped working, only her terrified screams echoed throughout her head.

"Sally? Are you okay?"

"I..." Sally managed to hold herself together. "I actually don't feel that good. It...It must be the air down here. It doesn't make me feel good."

"Yeah. It is kind of musty down here." Mihal shrugged lightly. "And I really only wanted to show you the paintings. I'm so happy that we got to see them all before Ghenadie sold them. Then I'd only be able to tell you about them, and I don't think I could do a good job at that."

Sally smiled again as Mihal led her out, holding her with his hot hand. She looked back to Ghenadie and a small gathering of cultists. Ghenadie smiled back but Sally only saw evil I'm his eyes.

"I think a walk outside would do me some good." Sally said as they neared the stone spiral staircase. "And, I know what you can do."

"What's that?" Mihal spoke as excitably as ever.

"Remember what I was talking about earlier? The tar and pitch?"

"Yes. The stinky black stuff. I remember." Mihal nodded thoughtfully. "I remember."

"How about." Sally walked by Mihal's side, something he clearly did not expect her to do. "How about you show me where all of that is kept? That'll make me feel better. I'm sure of it."

Mihal's smile widened as he led them faster up the staircase. Sally gripped his hand tighter, he didn't know what she intended for them.

Volume 05 - Chapter 31 - Resolving Thessos

Anton's eyes slowly opened to the weak morning rays, coming from a direction he was not accustomed to. Nor was the bed his own, larger and softer than his in Atros. A cold wind slowly washed over him and two bodies pulled closer. Verona and Kal almost lay on top of him, pushing themselves onto his chest and wrapping their legs around his. They cared not that his feet were now clawed, especially during a cold night. However, someone was missing. Anton gently and slowly pulled his arm away from Kal's waist, careful not to wake her as he watched her ears for the slightest movement, and searched the bed beyond. His hands found nothing. The bed was cold and Cetina wouldn't sleep on the same side as Verona.

He lifted his head slightly and found her, standing naked watching the morning sun poking through the early morning mist and fog. The dim light bounced off Cetina's exceptionally well trained body.

Cetina shuddered, her back and legs muscles twitched underneath her tanned skin, and gripped the edge of the small window. She did not attempt to close it nor move, just standing still and looking out. Her black hair, still only an inch long, was compressed in a line, where the thin strap of her eyepatch lay.

Anton slowly moved Verona and Kal off his body, neither woke but it was very close, and shuffled across the bed, keeping his feet high as to not catch the ends on the fabric. His feet, his claws, gently clicked onto the wooden floor. Still Cetina did not move. She continued to look at the sunrise, only her shallow breaths let Anton know she was still alive.

She didn't notice him approaching until he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She jumped, the muscles underneath his fingers twitched in anticipation for a fight, and her head snapped to his. Any hint of anger or annoyance faded when she realized who held her.

"Watching the sunrise?" Anton softly asked.

He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled himself close to her body. Cetina's hands held his arms as she wiggled her body back and forth, trying to gain as much contact as possible.

"Your hands are freezing." Anton kissed her neck. "Have you been here for a while?"

"A little bit." Cetina turned and kissed his forehead. "Probably too long, actually. I didn't even notice how cold I was until you held me." Cetina softly sighed. "I'm just wondering if this was the right thing to do. To come back here, seeing everything I left behind."

Cetina shivered and pulled Anton closer. "I don't know if it was the right thing to do."

"I think it is." Anton let her go and stood by her.

The sun sent streams of light over the clouds, producing a beautiful halo in the sky. If he didn’t know better he could very well be convinced it was made by god.

“Really?”

Anton leant against the window. Thankfully it was a wooden railing, not cold like the surrounding stone. Cetina followed, close enough for their elbows to touch.

“You think this is the right thing?”

“I think that you would always wonder what happened to Thessos if you didn’t.” Anton looked at her, she remained blank faced and urged him to continue. “We would have only heard rumours, distorted by time and distance, people wanting to embellish the stories in an attempt to impress.”

Cetina smiled. “When we were heading to the Red Spines the stories about us were already spreading there. They really changed you.”

“Yeah…” Anton idly scratched the base of the stone window. “I remember some people back on my world, Earth, that let their doubt destroy them. Always wondering and waiting to find out the truth, even when asking a simple question would settle so many things…”

“Was that you?” Cetina leant her head against his.

“No...But it was one of my friends.” Anton sighed softly. “I think you would find this hard to imagine but I didn’t have many...This isn’t supposed to be about me. Today it’s about you.”

“Keep going.” Cetina kissed the side of his head. “It’s actually helping.”

“I…” Anton stretched out his tail. “I didn’t do much apart from work and use a computer at home. Think of a computer as a...Book with moving pictures, where you can ask it anything and it’ll give you the answer.”

“Really? Everything?”

“K-Kind of. But it’ll probably give you the wrong one. But I did have a few friends outside of work. You know my memory isn’t the best, but it is something that I do remember. It broke them, not knowing.” Anton held Cetina’s hand. “And I didn’t want to see that happen to you.”

Cetina returned the squeeze. “Everyone that sees me...Sees my armour, talks about Bebbezzar and how it’s doing terribly. I suppose I would only worry more and more if I didn’t know.”

“Not to mention we can help them now and they can help us. Mainly through trade but that’s a good start.” Anton smiled. “Not that it’s really a good thing to say right now.”

“It still feels weird.” Cetina looked to the door. “Feels like that door’s going to open and I’m going to be yelled at.”

Anton stood upright and kissed her. When they parted Cetina still looked a little bemused.

“That’s never going to happen to you again, you know that. Right?”

Cetina pinched his arm. “How old do you think I am? I’m younger than you but not by much.”

“I know.” Anton pried her fingers from his skin. “But I still wanted to say it.”

Cetina smiled and looked out the window. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Anton rubbed her stomach, his fingers trailing over the edges of her abdominal muscles, each twitching in turn. “If you’re going to be naked in front of me you’re asking for trouble.”

“Trouble?” Cetina laughed once.

She immediately covered her mouth and glanced at the bed. Verona and Kal were still asleep, Verona mumbled something as her hand searched for the missing source of warmth. Anton gently pushed Cetina by her lower back towards the bed. Verona continued to search for his warmth as Kal silently raised the covers and beckoned them under.

“Did we wake you?” Anton asked softly.

“No. But I’m not so clumsy to search for a warm body.” Kal yawned and pointed at Verona. “She woke me up when she put her fingers in my eyes.”

“I don’t think that we’re going to get much more sleep with you two like that.” Kal smiled and ushered them in. “But the air is still cold. So why don’t you, at the very least, get under here before you do anything.”

Anton was not about to argue with that.

---[]---

“More bacon please!” Calo said loudly, waving her hand to catch the attention of the nearest servant. Verona agreed and gave the rather bemused servant a deep nod.

“O-Of course. I will get seconds...For all of you.”

Verona smiled at the twins. “You two have very good tastes.”

“It is good.” Sheso frowned at Calo. “But I didn’t take you for a glutton, like Verona.”

Verona and Calo scoffed.

“I’m eating for two.” Verona announced proudly. “So I have to eat a lot of meat so my baby will be strong. Can’t do that if you don’t eat right. Right, Cetina?”

“Yes.” Cetina roughly cut her food. “But I don’t think that’s what I meant when I said it.”

Anton scanned the large room for anyone watching. They sat in a large mess hall, one of the people of the actual Thessos castle rather than those of the town. Many had already finished and left for their day’s work, albeit begrudgingly trudging into the cold snow, but many were still present, especially women and children whose tasks were more likely to be indoors.

Kal cut her food into tiny pieces, biding her time as she watched from beneath her mask. When she thought no one was watching she placed it onto a large spoon and shovelled it into her mouth. She made pleasant noises as she slowly nodded.

“It’s good. I think I’d like to have some for our travels. If they’re willing to give us any.”

The servant returned with two small plates of steaming cooked bacon, brown breads and hard cheeses. They already had many vegetables, whomever was cooking probably wanted them, as Ines’s guests, to have only the best.

“Thank you.” Verona clapped. “This smells fantastic.”

“I thought it might.” A voice said. Anton turned to see Ines approaching, four heavily armoured guards behind her. “It’s not really an export but it is well regarded in the nearby villages and towns.”

“We saw many that were deserted.” Anton said softly. “Are they worried about more Clansmen attacks?”

“They are.” Ines said softly. She chose a seat at the end of the table. Sheso and Cetina shuffled slightly to give her some room. “But they’re also not willing to contribute much to our defence.”

“A true shame.” Anton said. “But they have their own lives to live. A few logs and cut stone wouldn’t go amiss however.”

“Even if it would do little the gesture would be greatly appreciated.” Ines sighed softly. Her eyes looked over the steaming food. “I hope you like our selection.”

“It’s very good.” Verona smiled. “Could we take some on our journey? This is fantastic.”

“Of course...Will you be leaving today?” Ines picked at her fingers.

“There isn't much more for us to do.” Cetina softly replied. “Right now...Well, there’s not much else. Thessos is recovering but we need as many resources as we can back home, so we can’t give much in the way of materials. Regardless, we can come and go as we please but…”

“I understand.” Ines held Cetina’s hand. “I just didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

Cetina smiled. “I never thought I would see Thessos again. Never...What do you have there?”

Cetina nodded to a small piece of paper tucked neatly into Ines’s shirt. She drew the paper and passed it to Cetina. Cetina frowned, her lips quivered as she mouthed the words and eventually handed it to Anton.

The piece of paper was a letter, emblazoned with a fanciful crest, requesting any forces to come to the aid of the beleaguered royals.

“Everything that can be spared.” Anton said aloud. “Do they know what’s happened to Thessos? Or is this just a general letter they sent out to everyone?”

“Why did it take them this long?” Kal asked as she took the letter.

“They have been too busy fighting each other.” Ines said softly. “Even though there is only one young princess left. If she dies the Royal blood line is finished."

"Young princess?" Verona asked softly.

"But now they must truly understand the terrible situation they are in. Revolutionaries to the East, renegade Merchant Princes to the south and chaos in the center...It's a complete mess."

"We've passed through a few cities that have escaped the violence." Anton said. "But it's only a matter of time before they too get dragged into this."

"Indeed." Ines glumly nodded. "Indeed. But there is little that Thessos can do, other than protect ourselves and fend off any further Clansmen attacks. That is all we can do."

Feels a bit like us and Atros. I'd love to reclaim all of the Kar Kingdom and free the Beastkin, but it's simply beyond our reach. For the moment.

"I do not think there's going to be an easy answer." Anton caught another maid approaching. "I just hope that whoever wins doesn't try and take vengeance upon you by saying neutral."

"Do you think that could happen?" Ines thanked the maid. It was the same maid involved with the Clansmen attack. "They would attack us, after everything we've done to keep them safe from the Clansmen?"

"Depends. If the Royals regain control, maybe? Depending on the temperament of whomever is in charge. Same with the Merchant Princes to the south. Though...I think the more ruthless will succeed there. But as for those Revolutionaries, who's to say there. They're spreading out, like a cancer."

"Yes..." Ines bit her lip and looked out the window. "We've had a few agitators come through...I wish Gerin was here." Ines threatened to tear up. "He would know what to do. He was always good with numbers and economics."

Ines laughed. "All I ever did was eat and organize festivals."

"Speaking of the Clansmen," Verona stopped eating for a moment. "What did he do? Exactly?"

The maid's eyes narrowed, just for a moment before shooting open again. She did not apologise but the thought was obvious.

"As I said before, he and the other Clansmen attacked Thessos and the central keep. After killing the Bodyguard-"

"Never liked that thing." Ines grumbled. "Hated the way it breathed and looked at us. Gerin...I don't know what he was thinking when he bought it."

"It?" Kal asked. "Not him? I didn't think you owned slaves?"

"Not a slave...But in the same way that you own an animal. Or a house."

Anton raised a brow. "And someone just agreed to be bought like that?"

"I..." Ines looked to Mila. "I always had the feeling that it didn't have any thoughts. Those Stitch Soldiers didn't appear to have much in the way of thoughts."

"Stitch soldiers?" Cetina's head snapped to Anton.

"Did this Bodyguard look like he was actually held together by stitches?" Anton asked. He glanced around the room, fearful of another incident like the Qaiviel throne room, but the walls were solid stone. The roof and floor, on the other hand...

"I did see him without his helmet on." Mila said softly. "I think it was trying to clean the drool...It did look a bit like that. I didn't get a good look. Something felt...Wrong about it. But it never hurt anyone or did something it wasn't supposed to."

Anton leant back into his chair. "Do you know where he got such a thing? Cetina and I...Really all of us have had to fight these Stitch Soldiers before. And it was not a pleasant experience."

"Very unpleasant." Cetina murmured, Verona heartily agreed. "Especially what they became. Like Harold and that Caiden boy."

"I honestly don't know." Ines said. "Gerin found someone that was willing to sell one, at quite a high price I remember him saying, but we only had one and I never liked it. It didn't even perform well against the Clansmen."

A silence settled over them. Just like when they first met there was this feeling that there was little more to be done or said. Gerin was with the Clansmen, Thessos was safe but still badly damaged and there was little else they could do to help one another.

Maybe this is what Cetina meant.

"There is something." Ines raised her finger and bounced it back and forth. "Your old room."

Cetina visibly tensed.

"No one has entered it since you left. If...If there is anything you want to take from there please do so. We need as much room as we can get but I wouldn't allow anyone to touch your old room...I'm still surprised that you even went."

"I..." Cetina sighed. "I don't think I really do either...My father. Did he ever talk to you about hiding something? Keeping something hidden from everything?"

"Not that I can think of. Your father didn't talk too much to me about his private business. Gerin might know more, when he comes back."

Ines looked wistfully towards the snow covered mountains.

"It was worth a shot." Anton whispered to Cetina. "But it sounds like it was something only passed down through the immediately family. He did trust you with that key."

"Yeah." Cetina smiled faintly. "He did."

"If you don't want to see your old room again you don't have to. After breakfast we can just leave and return home."

"I might as well." Cetina shrugged. "I don't think there's much left... But I do want one last look."

---[]---

Cetina breathed heavily as she stood before a simple wooden door. Her name had been etched into a removable slat at eyeheight, otherwise it was impossible to distinguish it from any of the other hundreds of doors throughout the central Thessos castle.

"You don't have to go in." Kal said softly. "It doesn't look like it's doing you much good already."

"I'm fine." Cetina forced a smile. "I just...Remember leaving in the middle of the night. A great rush and panic. I didn't know at the time I wouldn't be returning."

"I believe your masked friend is correct." Ines said. "You can always return at a later date, or if you do not wish to, we can have everything put into storage or disposed of. If that’s what you want."

"I'll be fine." Cetina took another deep breath and pushed the door inwards. "It's...Not as good as I remember."

Anton expected Cetina's room to be spartan at best but he still was surprised by just how little she had. A simple bed lay nestled in the corner, a chair and table in the other. In the centre lay an armour stand, currently empty, with a sword holster at the far end of the room.

"Wow." Verona stuck her head in. "There's really nothing here."

"No." Cetina took a step inside. "But it was home for me for a long, long time."

She walked to the bed and quickly fixed the sheets. In her rush to leave they had remained bundled and tossed to one side, do long the dust had settled and now covered the whole room in a faint haze.

Cetina looked back and made for a small cabinet. She removed a set of clothes and a small box. She slowly approached Anton and opened the box. Inside lay a small earring.

“My mother gave this to me...Two days before she disappeared.” Cetina smiled at Anton. “She must have known...Maybe she could…” Cetina scrunched her eyes and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. But I’m glad I’ve got this back.”

“Probably a good thing you didn’t take it with you.” Verona said softly. “Otherwise you might have been forced to sell it.”

“Yes.” Cetina clasped the box tight. “We still haven’t heard anything about Eluria, have we?”

“No. But we haven’t really been looking either.” Anton tapped his boots. “We’ll meet her soon enough I’m sure.”

“I didn’t like them the moment I saw them.” Ines said angrily. “But Duran was smitten, and he wasn’t my husband.”

Of course Strega Magic makes that a little bit difficult to deal with.

“But this is all I want.” Cetina tapped the box. “Everything else is just pain for me. And I have better beds now. And company.”

“We will make sure that someone appropriate receives this room.” Ines faintly smiled. “Someone deserving. But...How much longer will you be staying? Will you be heading to the capital?”

“The young princess?” Anton asked. He ignored the light jabbing he was receiving from Verona. “Do you think that would be a good idea? There aren’t that many of us.”

“If we have received the letter then so will have everyone else. I’m sure the message has been posted in all major cities and will soon be disseminated across the countryside.”

Verona rested her hands on her head. “I wonder if Eirco and his harem are going to head that way. That strange woman said he might be a king one day...How old is the Princess?”

“I’m not sure. But no more than eleven or twelve winters.”

“Oh...She’s going to be waiting a long time.”

“Here’s hoping.” Anton mused. “If she’s sold off for a political marriage...Sometimes they might try and consummate it before giving support.”

“Oh...Ew.” Verona stuck out her tongue. “Sick people.”

“So will you?” Ines asked.

“We’ll return to Alcanares and take a ship. There aren’t any Dark Elf pirates patrolling the waters and with this.” Anton summoned a small Fire Bomb. “They won’t dare try with this being thrown at them.”

“We cannot spare much but we’ll give you supplies for the journey...Wait. Will you be travelling through those stones back to Alcanares?”

“Exactly. We’ll take our horses as well.”

“I see…” Ines smiled at Cetina and offered her hand. “I am glad to know that you are alive and well and, although I cannot say I agree of your current choice in partners-”

She must have tried to see Cetina during the night. Well, I don’t think she would have wanted to see her in such a state.

“-I am glad that you are happy. Please come back whenever you wish. You are always welcome in Thessos.”

Cetina smiled. “I never thought I’d hear those words.”

Cetina passed the wooden box to Anton and brought Ines into a deep hug. Ines hesitated but returned the hold. No one spoke a word as Anton heard the faintest sniffles coming from them both.

Volume 05 - Chapter 32 - Dwarven Orthodoxy

Anton returned to Atros through the Thessos portal. Cetina stood to the side, clutching the few possessions she had decided to take with her.

“I...Thank you.” Cetina held the small bag close to her chest. “I didn’t think I’d see these again. They’re not much but they mean a lot to me.”

Anton didn’t reply. Instead, he gave her forehead a quick kiss. Cetina smiled as Verona and Kal stepped through.

“Thank you two for coming as well. It might have been a little difficult for me to go alone.”

“It’s fine.” Verona gave her a wink. “It was a pretty interesting trip too. But I think that we’re almost done with our adventures.” She rubbed her swelling stomach. “Maybe another small, little journey, but I think we’re done. At least until our babies are born.”

“Your home was beautiful.” Kal smiled as she removed her mask. “In a cold, but still lovely way.”

“Thanks.” Cetina sighed and bounced her small bag of possessions. “I want to put this in my room and...I don’t know. Maybe just not do too much today. I don’t think I’m up to much.”

The door to the portal room opened. Rasha entered, wearing her metal armour and wielding her halberd, along with a wide smile. Compared to Cetina her armour was decidedly poor, crude even. However, they had a way to rectify that, the Dwarves would certainly love to create something so unique after being constrained in the very bowels of their isles.

“Take the day off,” Anton said. “All of you. I think today...No. I won’t say it.” Anton smiled. “I know that if I say it it’ll all fall apart.”

The three smiled and gave Anton a quick hug.

“We’ll just be at home if you need us,” Verona said. “Or we’ll be with Marion. You know, since she’s had Kal and neither of us has had a child yet.”

“I’ll definitely see you for lunch.” Anton kissed her lips. “I know that you’ll find me for that, if nothing else.”

Verona stuck out her tongue but did not deny his words. All three gave a final wave and walked out of the Portal Room. Cetina put on a smile but there was something about her gait that was a little off. He honestly doubted she would take up the bottle again, their journey to Thessos had been a measure of closure, not trauma.

"So..." Rasha lightly ground her hoof on the slick stones. "Is there somewhere you want to go? In Atros, that is..."

Rasha opened her mouth but slowly closed it without a further word. It was clear what she meant.

"Since we have a bit of downtime, as little as that word means currently, I think it would be a good idea to get your armour improved."

"Me?" Rasha flexed her free arm back and forth. "My armour's fine. Isn't it?"

"It's passable." Anton smiled. "But if you're to be my bodyguard then you're going to need something a little better than that."

"Jonathan is still very busy." Rasha placed the butt of her halberd between her legs and rested her weight upon it. "Even with the Dwarves there's still a lot to do. I think they're putting most of their...Jonathan called it output or something, into securing their hold and not towards Atros." Rasha waved to the surrounding buildings. "Above ground Atros, if you know what I'm trying to say."

"That's fine. Right now we need more construction than just forging, we can still buy weapons and armour for now. I also want to see how they're coming along with my project."

"I haven't heard anything." Rasha stood upright and rested the halberd on her shoulder. "I suppose that's what you wanted?"

"Indeed." Anton clapped his hands. "Since the captain of my bodyguard is feeling unwell, will you escort me to the Dwarven Hold?"

His words did not elicit the reaction he expected. For just a moment Rasha looked dejected and slightly frustrated. It disappeared the next, replaced with a happy smile.

"Let's go then." Rasha opened the portal building's door. "If it's possible can I have my armour look a little bit like Cetina's? That way everyone will know that we're doing the same thing."

"Sure. We'll just need to remind them that you've got a horn to go through your helmet...Does that make it any more difficult to put on?"

Again Rasha fell silent. Anton turned back but only enough to see out of his peripherals. Dejection and frustration covered her face.

"Is everything alright?"

Rasha's face brightened. "Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason." Anton stopped before the portal. "But you will tell me if something's bothering you. Right?"

"Of course." Rasha stood beside him. "I know what happened last time I didn't. Very unpleasant. I'll tell you if something's bothering me."

"Alright. I won't pester you again." Anton's foot hovered over the shimmering white disk. "But do remember that nothing's too small."

Rasha gave a serious nod and prepared to follow him through the portal. She was an adult, after all, and didn't need his coddling or meddling in her affairs. Anton hoped it was just a funny mood and not something more serious.

---[]---

A wave of hot air blasted and buffeted Anton’s face as he arrived in the Dwarven Hold. The portal had been established in the experimental forge, where it would be under heavy guard from prying eyes. Anton hoped the Dragon Guard Dwarves, those not involved with his projects, would not try snooping but the Dwarves were not a hive mind. Someone could very well try and sell the secrets for ludicrous amounts of gold.

Rasha emerged and almost stepped on him. She made a worried noise, pulled and face and stepped from side to side, her hooves clacking on the hard stone. Anton smiled and stepped froward, Rasha shook her head and followed.

“I can’t believe I almost knocked over my charge.” Rasha softly laughed. “So where are the Dwarves that you need?”

Anton didn’t immediately reply. His eyes were drawn to another small cavern, recently dug out judging by the fresh stone. In there Anton watched Dwarves painstakingly work on the smaller components of the rifle. They wore special goggles, lenses of differing focuses hanging by the side on metal arms, and frowned at their work. Though the Dwarves were undoubtedly masters at their work it would take time to properly realise such a device.

A Master Smith approached, alerted by the guards on duty. Anton was a little glad they were not foolish enough to try and harass him. Technically this was still his territory.

“Hello, Lord Anton.”

The Master Smith bowed his head. Like the other Dwarves in the forges, he wore a type of leather apron around his beard. No Dwarf would want their beards to be burnt and frayed by the immense heat from the forges.

“Work is still progressing on the project you assigned us.” He gestured to the new cavern. “We’ve had to expand our operations, to ensure that everything can be done effectively.”

“Were you the one that tried to open the box before I arrived?” Anton softly asked. “The one that Umikgruid specifically told you not to open?”

The Dwarf’s face reddened slightly. “It...It was. But I have learned my lesson.”

He turned away and looked towards a large table with many components of the rifle, the larger pieces and easier to replicate.

“These are pretty simple…” The Master Smith tapped the table. “It’ll still be some time before this is complete. I’m sorry that I don’t have any more or better news for you.”

“I was actually thinking about something a little easier.” Anton held one of the copies of the rifle’s stock. “A custom piece of armour. For the best Minotaur soldier in Atros and my personal bodyguard.”

Anton tapped Rasha’s arm. “It’s alright, for what it is, but I want something better for her. One day we’ll be able to bring Beast-kin beyond Atros’s borders, so she needs something better.”

The Master Smith slowly nodded and motioned for Rasha to kneel. Rasha was almost four meters tall while the Dwarves barely reached Anton’s chest. She chuckled and dropped to one knee, despite this she was still quite high for the Dwarf.

“I see....I see.” The Dwarf nodded and began to pry at Rasha’s armour joints. “This is quite...Yes. I see what you are saying.”

Other Dwarves, not Master Smiths but clearly of some skill, noticed his fascination and slowly gathered, like curious children around a flame. Anton gave them a nod and they crowded near, beginning to mutter and point at Rasha’s armour.

“This is really strange.” Rasha held back her smile as she watched the Dwarves inspect her armour. “I don’t know what I should be feeling…”

“Just relax and let it wash over you.” Anton smiled. “It’s how I felt when the Dwarves were rubbing their paws...Might be the wrong word, but it felt just like you are right now.”

Rasha smiled and shook her head. Eventually the Master Smith waved the others back. They did not respond and moved to another table. Without speaking a word they began drawing diagrams and bringing measuring strings towards Rasha.

“Excuse me.” One of the Dwarves tapped on Rasha’s forearm. “Could you please remove this piece? We wish to get proper measurements, and we can’t do that with your armour on.”

“You guys are really taking this thing seriously.” Rasha smiled as she began to unfasten the armour. The fasteners and locks had been designed for her larger fingers and did not impede her in any way.

“Of course.” The Dwarf smiled. “We do not get many chances to design things...Anything, really. Everything needs to go through the leading Dwarven Clans, and that isn’t us.”

“I understand the need for conformity and standardisation.” Anton chose a nearby empty table to lean against. “It’s one of the things that I’m trying to impose upon you, especially with those rifles, I don’t want you to redesign everything each time you design a new gun...But isn’t what happens in the Dwarven Isles slow?”

The Master Smith left the others and frowned at Anton. “Slow? That’s an understatement. Not to mention that if they don’t like your clan, definitely like us, they’ll ignore you and worse. A lot worse. And if you’re really hated, or do something stupid or fail to live up to expectations, they’ll ban your ideas and never let it be discussed again.”

Anton scoffed. “That has got to be the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. Ignoring something that could push your people and civilisation into a new age is forever barred because some bearded prick has had a cat-fight with another twat?”

The Dwarven Smith’s looked rather surprised at his words. Eventually they began to smile as they continued on with their work.

“We’ve never been able to say something like that before.” The Master Smith smiled. “We’ve always been too afraid to say something like that outside of our homes.” He motioned to the small but hot forges. “Our work is never in our part of the Dwarven Isles.”

“Never be afraid to criticise your leaders. If you don’t then someone like me could let it all go to their heads.” Anton ruffled his own hair. “Not that I need it to get any bigger.”

The Dwarves remained silent but Rasha laughed. She clamped her mouth shut as she tried to stifle her laughter.

“It’s not that funny Rasha.” Anton pouted lightly. “My head is normal, for a human.”

“Sure, Anton. Sure.”

The Dwarven smiths continued asking Rasha to remove her armour and taking measurements. Beneath her metal plates she wore a shirt and pants of Arachnid Silk, so she wasn’t about to become naked, not that Anton thought that Rasha was foolish enough to do something like that.

The Master Smith slowly approached Anton. Though he didn’t say anything he knew something was on his mind.

“What’s the matter?” Anton fully sat on the table.

“This talk of designs...There is a place in The Dwarven Isles where certain of our creations, those that have not been ordained by the leading clans, are on display.”

“Oh?” Anton hopped off the table. “Umikgruid didn’t mention this.”

The Master Smith smiled. “I believe he wouldn’t think old and bizarre Dwarven contraptions would be of much interest to you. However, given what was just said, and the weapon you are having us look at, I think you should have a look.” He nodded to Rasha. “We’ll still be a while with fashioning her armour.”

“I would like to go.” Anton nodded. “But I can’t just go to The Dwarven Isles without a guide or an escort. The clan leaders were rather annoyed your smiths were leaving.”

“Indeed. I-”

“I’ll stay here,” Rasha said, more of a grumble. “A Beast-kin can’t go there without causing a massive scene.”

“True…” Anton sighed softly. “I’ll ask around and see what everyone has to say. See if Cetina’s feeling a bit better, if leaving Atros for a little while might do her some good.”

Rasha slowly nodded and allowed the Dwarves to continue with their work.

---[]---

The damp and slightly musty air of the Dragon Guard quarters in The Dwarven Isles was not something Anton found pleasant, in any sense. Neither did Cetina, Calo or Sheso. The Dark Elves scrunched up their noses while their ears pulled back.

"This...This is no place for someone to live." Calo coughed, somewhat dramatically.

Sheso glumly nodded. "Worse than our fortress on the worst days."

"Exactly why we're getting them out." Anton offered his hand to Cetina, which she took. "It's not the same type of slavery as the Beastkin but it is a type, more insidious as you can't see the chains around your neck."

The four Dwarves guarding the portal continued to watch in silence.

"Though I think they certainly can feel them coming free."

Anton recognized one of the Dwarves. While he didn't know his name he was the first Dwarf he had healed on The Dwarven Isles and his mother had helped Rasha with her problem.

Just about everything I said only made it worse. The only time I've seen that is when I've been miserable and didn't want to be cheered up...There must be something I can do...

"Hello." The Dwarf trotted towards them. Though young he still had an impressive beard, the number of metal bands were far fewer however. "Thank you for coming. I didn't know if you actually would."

"The Master Smith said we should," Anton said. "Said that it might be of interest to us, these...weapons."

"Yes. We have created many weapons and things over the generations. I was told that they might be of interest to you, since you have them working on something similar."

"Not...Not too loud about that." Anton spoke softly. "But I certainly am interested. What was your name? I don't believe I got it the first time we met."

"Jondomi." The Dwarf smiled. "I will show you the way."

Cetina made a noise, tapping the side of her leg.

Last time we followed someone it didn't end too well for us, did it?

"We have Calo and Sheso with us this time," Anton said, Cetina appeared to be having the same thought as him. "So we'll be fine. Besides, I don't think Jondomi is the kind of Dwarf that would sell out his clan for some gold."

"Why would I do that?" Jondomi appeared to not understand what Anton was implying, the other Dwarves did. "It's horrible down here. And I've seen where we're going, so much better than this place."

The Dwarven guards opened the door and ushered them into the habitation blocks. It was not the same block they had left the portal in, or perhaps it was. They nearly looked identical but there was one way to be sure.

"Have you moved the portal?" Anton asked.

Jondomi nodded. "We had to. A few days after you left the other Clans started looking around here, getting a little too aggressive at wanting to see everything. We chased them off but we've moved it just in case. We're a few levels below where we first met. There's only one more layer down and then it's old mining tunnels a day storage for junk."

"Good idea to move it." Anton returned a wave from a group of Dwarven children. "So long as no one saw you do it."

"I don't think so." Jondomi smiled. "The Hall's of Defiance are near the surface, so humans won't be noticed. We just need to get up there without drawing too much attention."

"A bit hard for us." Anton looked down at Jondomi. "Crouching along your tunnels isn't going to work."

"There are many small access tunnels." Jondomi began walking away, not checking if they were following or not. "No one goes through those, and they lead right to the top. It's how a lot of us have snuck around when we were younger. They're this way."

---[]---

Anton groaned as he stretched out his back, moving back and forth to try and loosen his muscles. Jondomi had not truly explained just how narrow and cramped the tunnels would be. Nevertheless, they emerged at the same level as the dock.

"Next time we'll just put the portal up here." Cetina, both taller and wearing heavier armour than Anton, suffered most in the cramped tunnels. As ever she did not complain, at least until they were free. "My back is killing me."

Anton managed to worm a hand underneath a loosened plate on her back and massaged the area. Judging by her wry look she expected to be healed.

"When we get back home." Anton began. "I don't want to raise too much suspicion, more than we already have."

"Something's going on out there," Sheso whispered back.

Cetina gave Anton a nod and quickly refastened her armour. Currently they stood behind one of the market areas, a place filled with discarded junk and other debris. No rotting food but Anton did catch several rats scampering through the piles. The twins stood at the end of the small alleyway, their ears hidden by a band of cloth wrapped around their heads, and peered out into the market itself. As Anton approached they were whispering to one another, about what Anton could not hear.

The moment Anton leant around them he understood what they meant. "Something's got everyone riled up."

The market was nearly identical to the one that he and Cetina had wandered through. This time, however, the people were different. Human merchants, from Qaiviel, Bebbezzar, Frindal and even Xiam, mingled through the Dwarven stalls with a hesitant gait. They kept their hands close to themselves, just like the Dwarven stall owners. Before they were rather aggressive at trying to attract customers, some to an off-putting level, but were not withdrawn or seemingly hostile. Eyes behind bushy brows and beards flicked between passer-bys, judging them all for some unknown reason.

Calo and Sheso pointed to two of the Qaiviel and Graterious merchants. They too looked apprehensive, perhaps more from the lack of interest from the Dwarven stall owners, and pulled together. They whispered and nodded to the Dwarves walking past, receiving and giving some ire, whilst shaking their heads.

Sheso, without looking back, reached up with her hand and tapped Anton's chest. "They're saying something about Elves...Can't be us."

"I don't think our Uncles would do something like that," Calo added with a nod. "There's...No need for that now."

"A few raiding ships wouldn't put them in this state," Anton said. "But you aren't the only elves in this world."

"Those Wood Elves." Cetina looked around Anton's shoulder. "In the silver armour. They were saying there would be some coming from their homeland."

"That in itself..." Anton turned to Jondomi, closing the door to the access tunnels. "Jondomi? What have you heard about this?"

Jondomi hurriedly finished his work and trotted to their side. He frowned as he looked at the market. "I have no idea. It takes word a long time to reach us down below. But you are right, they are acting strangely. Normally they wouldn't...Normally they would be all over the human merchants."

"Could a Wood Elven procession do this?"

"I...I don't know." Jondomi gently shook his head. "I've never seen one before." He looked into the market again. "But we could just ask. It might be easier."

"It is." Anton stepped around the twins. "But I'd like to have a rough idea what's happening, so I don't look like a complete imbecile."

No one paid them much attention as they moved from behind the junk and scrap. Only when they joined the main thoroughfare did they notice, and certainly not for the better. The hostility felt like it came from everyone and was equally directed at everyone. Calo and Sheso looked Seocurians with their long ears hidden and attracted no extra ire.

Jondomi pointed to a small market stall selling simple tools. "I know them. I'll ask and find out what's happening. Shouldn't be long."

Jondomi gave a quick bow and left. Anton felt slightly adrift, amidst the swirling crowds of people. Thankfully there were many humans so he didn’t stand out too much. Anton only spied one Seocurian so the twins were drawing the most attention.

“While he’s doing that let’s have a chat with some of the traders.” Anton offered. “Better than just standing here like a stunned mullet.”

“A what?” Cetina softly chuckled as they followed him.

The Graterian merchant noticed them approaching first. He subtly raised his hand to stop his Qaiviel counterpart and nodded in their direction.

“Sorry for the interruption.” Anton smiled, putting on his best attempt to act like he was a little bit lost. “But what’s got the Dwarves in such a foul mood?”

“You honestly don’t know?” The Graterian raised a brow.

“Well…” Anton smiled at Cetina. “We’ve only just arrived, really.”

The Qaiviel merchant shook his head. “Honestly. Why are all of your kinsmen so stupid?”

Right, people think that I’m a Graterian when they first see me. Let’s just go with it.

The Graterian merchant rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. You and I both know that Qaiviel merchants are little more than pig sellers.”

The two eyed each other angrily but nothing came of it. Slowly a smile started to form, Anton had no idea if they knew each other but hostility was not good for business.

“The Wood Elves came through.” The Graterian merchant began. “A huge fleet of them. Easily two hundred of their largest ships…” He looked at his counterpart. “They put ours to shame.”

The Qaiviel merchant shook his head. “Gaudy things. Worse than those things that you Seocurians have.”

He looked at the twins. They said nothing and looked to him for a response.

“Perhaps. But a fleet arriving here surely isn’t enough to make them become like this?” Anton held a hand to his chest. “This is the first time I’ve heard of such a momentous occasion.”

“It’s because those damned Wood Elves demanded tribute.” The Qaiviel merchant scoffed. “Basically they just took everything they wanted...I’ve never seen such an arrogant people.”

“Even you?” Cetina asked. “You’re just traders and merchants.”

“Just like them.” The Qaiviel merchant nodded to the Dwarven stalls. “But, yes. Even we were targeted.”

“Tribute.” The other merchant scoffed. “Just thieves...And it’s not like we could do much about it. They had those damned bows of theirs. Not to mention hundreds of those stupid Faries floating about.”

The Qaiviel merchant shuddered. “I hate seeing those little things. Makes me so nervous...I don’t want to have my head explode just because some little floating shit thought it would fun to see what’s happening inside my head.”

So Fairies are real and they’re with Nithroel. Not that surprising...Love little toadstools and all that. But to think they’re aggressive...Maybe not aggressive but just child-like and curious, without understanding what they’re really doing. A dangerous combination.

“Did they take anything in particular?” Sheso asked. “Or were they really like pirates?”

A nearby Dwarf stall owner scoffed. She kept her head down and did not contribute further.

“Everything they wanted.” The Graterious merchant shrugged. “Weapons, armour, food. Didn’t seem to matter. They took some jewellery but not others...I don’t know what they were after.”

“It could be a ruse.” Calo offered. “If they wanted one thing it would be smarter to take a lot of other stuff, so no one really knows what they wanted to begin with.”

The two shared an impressed look.

“That’s...An interesting idea.” The Qaiviel merchant smiled. “How did you come up with that?”

Calo shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“I see...If you are ever free of your contract with this man, consider-”

“No.” Calo and Sheso replied in unison.

“I see…”

“Smooth.” The Graterious merchant could barely hold back his smile. “Really smooth.”

“Shut up.”

Anton noticed Jondomi approaching from behind, he did not look particularly happy with whatever was said to him.

“Excuse me.” Anton nodded towards Jondomi. “But our guide has returned. I wish you both the best in recouping your losses.”

The two gave a curt nod back and returned to their previous conversation. Anton was not surprised when Jondomi gave the same story as the merchants. The Wood Elves had taken vast quantities of goods and materials, seemingly at random, without any interference from the guards or the ruling clans. However there was something else. When their ships were full an envoy was sent to meet with the clan leaders. After a few hours they returned and the Wood Elven fleet departed without further interruption or hindrance, heading towards the north east, towards the Wood Elven colony at the southern end of the Shattered Kingdom.

“Do you think they’re going to invade us?” Cetina asked softly. Jondomi had already started leading them towards the Hall’s of defiance.

“Not with gold,” Anton replied. “No. I don’t think so. Not yet, at any rate. They’d have to go through Surdon and everything else to the south. I’m sure those cultists wouldn’t like the Wood Elves marching an army through their lands. Not to mention they won’t be a threat when we get our project working.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Calo nudged her sister. “The way they’re talking about it makes it sound like it could kill a dragon.”

Anton merely smiled. If properly used they probably could, especially the larger of his ideas, but for now he wanted to see what the Dwarves had managed to complete on their own.

Jondomi led them through the rest of the market. The markets did not change in attitude, much to Anton's concern. It was extremely odd for a kingdom so powerful to simply steal from another.

Or maybe it's not. They can get away with it, so why wouldn't they?

Jondomi led them out of the market and into the mountains again. The ceiling was still high enough to comfortably accommodate a human but someone like Rasha would have to crouch low.

"Are there no great halls in the Dwarven Isles?" Anton asked. "Nowhere with soaring pillars of finely cut stone."

"Not anymore." Jondomi smiled bitterly. "Those exist down below, under stagnant water or have been destroyed to make space for homes."

"No wonder they're trying to push you out." Anton mused. "But would anyone willingly take your current homes?"

Jondomi did not reply and continued to lead them in deeper. The numbers of humans grew increasingly sparse, Anton only saw two and those were from Frindal, so they began to attract attention. Even more so considering the Frindal's had Dwarven escorts while they...did not.

Jondomi's demeanour changed as the tunnels began to change and widen. He pointed to a large iron wrought gate at the end of a branch, guarded by old Dwarves as a steady stream of Dwarves came and left.

"Why are they mostly children?" Cetina asked. "This Halls of Defiance...Are they that important to show a child?"

"Of course. Even we are shown it when we are young." Jondomi smiled. "To instil upon us the strength and ingenuity of the Dwarves, and to remind ourselves of our hubris. At least that's what my father told me when I was younger. But anyone can come through here...You might have to pay a toll. Shouldn't be too bad. Hopefully..."

Jondomi's words rang true. While they were stopped and briefly searched by the guards, and convinced to pay a few silver coins as a donation, they were allowed in. Great lights illuminated the massive halls, from above and the many columns supporting the roof. Even the floor changed in quality, now a perfectly smooth and shiny light grey stone. Anton made sure his boots did not leave marks. Someone had to make sure the floor was sparkling clean.

Calo tapped his arm and subtly pointed to the side. A small group of young dwarves, carrying buckets and rags, were being ruthlessly chastised by an older couple. The Dwarf boys kept their heads down, staring at the feet and remaining utterly silent while the verbal abuse continued unabated. Everyone nearby simply ignored the scene, even other Dwarven children, and carried on like they weren't even there.

"Dragon Guard children," Anton muttered. "Since they pay your clan so little..."

"Not for much longer." Jondomi smiled. "Not for much longer. But they know how to handle themselves, they're not really listening right now anyway. Come on, there's nothing we can do for them anyway."

Reluctantly Anton turned his head away and followed Jondomi.

The Hall's of Defiance was laid out almost identically to a museum from Earth. Giant statues of Dwarves in heroic poses lined the central area, beneath each lay a large bronze plaque detailing their accomplishment or great deed. None mattered to Anton but he still took the time to hear Jondomi speak of each Hero as they neared the first branch. Jondomi added many smaller details and curiosities about their lives, whether or not they were true was another matter entirely.

"Since you were so interested in weapons and devices." Jondomi proudly pointed to a sign above the door. "I think we should start here."

"Armouries of the First Dwarven Lords." Calo read the sign aloud. "Wouldn't this be...Old stuff? I think Anton wants bigger and better things than an old axe."

"We'll start here." Anton held Calo's head. "Then we'll work our way up. That way it looks like we're actually tourists and not...I don't know what you would call our mission. Reconnaissance?"

Jondomi led them into the large room. Calo's thoughts were on point. Only old weapons and armour were on display, basic by current standards but godly to ages past. Surprisingly the Dwarves moved from bronze straight to steel, without using iron for their weapons and armour.

Must have been lucky with their ore deposits. Something with a lot of Carbon, so it would become steel. Or maybe they were starting to forge iron and someone made a mistake, creating steel? I know a depressing number of Earth's inventions were accidents or mistakes.

Jondomi guided them through. Just like with the statues he gave extra details for the rarer ancient weapons and armour. Most were mundane but several had some impressive stories around them.

While Jondomi spoke of the last piece in the room Anton could not shake the feeling they were being watched. Three Dwarves, dressed like the civilians and traders outside, had slowly followed them, keeping a decent distance but never letting them out of their sight.

Still paranoid about the disappearing Dwarves? Or maybe a group of humans warrants this much attention.

Anton quietly told them they were being followed. The twins were not surprised, Cetina and Jondomi were. However they decided to act like they didn't know and carry on with their tour.

After another three rooms, detailing the Dwarves' early mountain settlements, the first interactions with humans and their first sailors and explorers, they cut across to a very popular room.

"Weapons of Hubris," Cetina said. "Is this the place you want?"

"This contains all the experimental weapons and creations made by Dwarves over the generations." Jondomi gently pushed a Dwarf to one side, there was simply no other way to get through. "I'm sure this is what you want."

As Anton was much taller than a Dwarf he could see over the thick crowds. He glanced back, the three were still following but at a much greater difference. Anton looked over their heads, and never into their eyes, but the three did not notice. They were muttering something to one another but Anton would not risk the hearing enchantment, less the background noise overwhelmed his mind.

"This looks good," Calo said softly. "Is this what you were after?"

Anton looked down, followed her head and stopped dead. It took his mind a few moments to process what he was seeing. Simply put, it was a tank. An armoured, wheeled vehicle.

"W-What..."

Cetina grabbed his arm and pulled him to one side, the others quickly followed.

"What's wrong?" Cetina asked, rubbing his shoulder with her hand.

"I...I just lost myself there."

"Not one of those things?"

Anton smiled. "No. Thankfully no. I just wasn't prepared to see something like that."

After taking a quick breath Anton felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The Tank, or whatever the construct was actually called, did not look to be of Earth origin, at least he couldn't remember a Tank constructed from Bosicyium. It's sloped armour was held together by massive rivets, the wheels looked like drums and made from metal instead of rubber, the turret was actually a massive metal ballista with a loading system for the bolts carried along the back. Four hatches adorned the top, mannequins of Dwarves were installed demonstrating how they used repeating crossbows and a type of hand grenade to fend off attackers at close range.

"Just...Just wasn't expecting that." Anton coughed and flexed his hands. "I thought what we found in The Shadow Isles would have been it."

"Looks very heavy." Sheso idly spoke. "If that's all metal, how does it move?"

"A very interesting question." Anton softly replied.

Of course Earth would not be the only ones to think of an armoured vehicle. And for the Dwarves to do it...But. Do they still use this overseas on land?

“Jondomi. What do you know about this thing?”

“Ahh.” Jondomi smiled and moved towards the Dwarven Tank. “A Dwarven Land Cruiser.”

Right. They wouldn’t have the same naming sense...But if it is a little bit like a ship. At least that’s what the first ones were…

Jondomi loudly cleared his throat. “Built five hundred and eighty-seven winters ago, it represents one of the most impressive and greatest failures of the Dwarves. It-”

“Four hundred and eight seven winters.” A voice said loudly. “You’re telling the story wrong.”

The voice belonged to a female Dwarf, a rather pretty one, all things considered, standing to one side. In one hand she held a mop, the other a large bucket of dirtied water and an old rag.

“Hello, Thomani,” Jondomi spoke through gritted teeth. “I was trying to tell Lord Anton about the Land Cruiser.”

“Oh. So you’re that Lord Anton.” Thomani smiled and bowed. “Welcome to the Hall’s of Defiance. I hope that Jondomi has been performing an adequate job of acting as a tour guide.”

“And who are you to him?” Calo asked. She frowned and tilted her head. “Are...You from the same clan?”

“We are.” Thomani smiled and ran a hand through her hair. “Jondomi and I are together. We-”

“No we are not.” Jondomi grumbled softly. “You just think we are.”

Thomani continued to smile, no hint that she heard what he had said.

“I’m sorry to say this,” Anton nodded towards the Dwaven Land Cruiser. “But it’s important that I know as much as I can about this.”

“Of course.” Thomani bowed again. “I have work anyway, the managers will get angry with me...More than they normally are. By Jondomi. I’ll see you later.”

She waved warmly and scurried away, the bucket slopping droplets over the side. Jondomi held a contorted face as he watched her go.

“What’s...What’s happening there?” Cetina whispered into Anton’s ear. “I know we aren’t exactly traditional, but it’s not…”

“I honestly don’t know.” Anton faintly smiled. “But it’s not that...Nor does it matter really.”

Jondomi cleared his throat again. “Sorry. Thomani always gets me...Anyway. The Dwarven Land Cruiser. Built four hundred and eighty-seven winters ago. It is a weapon of war designed to be used at the front of our armies. On the larger and more open continents, not inside the Dwarven Isles.”

“It’s simply too big for those narrow tunnels,” Anton said, somewhat regretting his obvious remark. “But how does it move?”

Jondomi pointed to a diagram to the side.

“So each…” Anton frowned. “Each wheel is powered by a set of power cubes that cause the wheels to spin? Individually? Not just one and the rest follow?”

“No.” Jondomi seemed quite bemused. “No. It wouldn’t have the strength to move it otherwise.”

Anton moved closer and studied the diagram more. It was horrifically complicated but Anton understood the basics of it. Every wheel acted independently, each had its own power supply in the form of a large cluster of energy cubes which spun the wheel through a series of metal rings connected to the inside of the wheel. Steering and acceleration was governed by a series of levers. With each pull, the cluster of energy cubes would decouple from the rings and the wheel would stop.

“An interesting system…” Anton said softly. “But these levers, gears and couplings. What happens if one of them breaks?”

“That’s what went wrong.” Jondomi smiled bitterly. He led them to the next exhibit, a Dwarven Land Cruiser split almost in half. One side had bent and torn up, like the wheels were still trying to move while the others had come to a complete stop.

“I thought it would have just spun in circles.”

“Not if it hits a boulder.” Jondomi shook his head. “The crash damaged the energy cubes on the left side, releasing all of their energy in a matter of moments. It caused the wheels to spin so fast they ripped themselves free and took most of the surrounding metal with it.”

“If it can move that…” Cetina frowned at Anton. “It might just be easier to release those wheels into the enemy.”

“String a piece of metal between them.” Anton slowly nodded. “I could certainly seeing that working on the plains against the Goblins...Or even human enemies.”

“That was the last of these devices.” Jondomi pointed to another plaque. “The creator was beheaded for his failures and insistence that it would work. Huge amounts of money were poured into these devices but none worked, all worked far worse than simply dragging a ballista on a cart. The Dwarven clans returned to more traditional methods of war after this.”

“I see…” Anton slowly nodded and looked at the ruined Dwarven Land Cruiser.

Some poor Dwarf put his heart and soul into this. Everything he had...Perhaps they were like Ikel, in a sense. Maybe not. But he was clearly too clever for his own good. Instead of powering all of the wheels simultaneously, it would have been far better to have only one set of energy cubes spinning one thing, one drive, the rest running off of gears and spinning shafts from that...Too smart for their own good; lovingly overdesigned and unfortunately so complicated it failed...Dooming their creation to oblivion. A real tragedy.

“I think I might have some improvements.” Anton turned away. “Umikgruid and the other Master Smiths will have something fun to experiment with after I’m done. Now, let’s have a look at the rest of the exhibits.”

Unfortunately for Anton the rest of the pieces on display were not very interesting or enlightening. Atros could already create crossbows and ballista's, with the Dwarves' help of course, but everything else was either too outlandish or simple to take note of. Nothing compared in majesty to the Dwarven Land Cruiser and while there were some odd creations, a type of pointed shield that could cover and entire Dwarf with a firing slit, and a type of chariot that looked more like a sled with repeating crossbows placed along the sides, nothing caught his interest. Whomever created the Dwarven Land Cruiser had not created anything so fanciful again, probably because of his subsequent execution. His name was nowhere to be found, not even on the pieces of the remaining Dwarven Land Crusier. The Dwarven Clans truly wanted his stain removed from all records, yet also wanted him as a warning. Anton merely dispared at such foolishness. Anton was more intrigued to see the types of armour the Dwarves once used, one was built with the strange steel Ikel manufactured in the early days of the United Empire, but it had no reference to that ancient empire. None did. Perhaps that was the most surprising thing.

“No reference to the Blood Hammers either.” Anton mused.

“What?” Sheso tilted her head.

“The Blood Hammer Clan. The hold that’s under us. Nothing about them.”

“We are in a museum of war.” Calo offered.

“True. But they worked with the United Empire. I expected to see something about them. But…” Anton shrugged. “If no one knew about the location of their hold, something very easy to learn if one has access to United Empire maps, then I doubt they would have anything on them. Maybe a name or two, a lost historical footnote at best.”

Jondomi bowed deeply “I’m extremely sorry we could not show you more things you wanted. But this is everything that is available to the public. I’m certain there are other things, hidden in the vaults of the Dwarven Clans, but…”

The Dark Elves held many ‘relics’ from their early days. Only one was of any interest to me.

“It’s quite alright.” Anton patted the Dwarf’s shoulder. “You’ve been a great help. I’ll be sure to let Umikgruid know that we would’ve been wandering around these halls, acting like rural hicks, if it wasn’t for you.”

Jondomi’s face lit up with pride. The twins barely restrained their smiles and gently shook their heads.

“Before we return I’d like to get something quick to eat. Might as well, since, one day, we won’t be coming back. Will we?”

“The sooner the better.” Jondomi happily began to walk towards the door.

“Because Thomani won’t be cleaning these halls and you’ll be able to spend all day with her?” Calo slyly asked.

“She seems nice,” Sheso added. “Surely she can’t be that bad.”

Jondomi scoffed and stomped away. His gait told Anton that he was anything but unhappy with the idea. He and Cetina shared a smile, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, as they walked towards the entrance.

---[]---

The hot and stuffy air of the secret forge blasted Anton’s face. Cetina, Calo and Sheso had returned to Atros, after eating their full of Dwarven cuisine, while Anton jumped through another portal to the Dwarven Hold beneath Atros, where Rasha was waiting and hopefully in a better mood. When he stepped through he wasn’t entirely sure if she was better or worse.

Rasha stood perfectly still as the Master Smith Dwarf, and nearly a dozen of his assistants, checked and fitted armour to Rasha. They used ladders as she was well over double their height and she needed to be properly upright when she was fitted.

“Hello?”

“Anton!” Rasha smiled, her vacant expression was replaced with a happy smile. “How..How did it go?”

The smile faded, not as sad as before but still quite clearly annoyed at something. She still wasn’t willing to explain what was irritating her. He was going to have to get it out of her, just like last time.

“Pretty good.” Anton stepped off the portal disk. “I’ve discovered something very interesting, an alteration to one of my designs. Something that I want the Master Smiths to investigate.”

Anton spoke loudly enough for the Dwarves to hear but they didn’t notice. They carried on with their tasks, like they were machines, none even acknowledged his presence.

“Have they been like that since I left?”

Rasha smiled bitterly. “Pretty much. But they’re almost done. The last alterations are almost done and then...Then I’ll have a proper suit of armour.” Rasha smirked. “Might even be better than Cetina’s…”

Her face fell. “Not that I’ll have much of a chance to test it out.”

Before Anton could respond the Master Smith noticed his presence, only because he nearly ran into Anton’s legs. Even then he still gave him a momentary glare until he realised just who it was.

“Anton. Lord Anton. How was the journey to The Dwarven Isles? Was the museum of any use to you?”

“It was very enlightening.” Anton folded his arms. “I have something for you to look at later but how is my bodyguard doing? Is she almost ready?”

The Master Smith nodded to Dwarves bringing over the chest plate. “That’s the last piece.”

Beneath his beard, his skin began to turn red. “The biggest problem we’ve had is regarding her...Chest. No Dwarf has them…”

“I can hear you.” Rasha pouted at Anton. “Talking about me like that…”

“An issue that Verona had to deal with.” Anton smiled. “But you’ve found a solution?”

“A metal frame. It’s a little heavier but it stops her chest from absorbing the blows and helps with proper weight distribution.”

“That’s a good idea.” Rasha gently rubbed her chest with the back of her hands. “I don’t want my breasts to act as...Padding.” Rasha grunted. “Any more than they already are.”

Anton and the Dwarves shared another glance, saying nothing as the final piece of armour was passed to Rasha. They fastened the simple framework and the armour and stepped away. Rasha shuffled her shoulders and twisted back and forth, testing the limits of her movements. Despite the thick plates they didn’t impede her movement in any significant manner. The edges of the plates slid under each other while a thick layer of Arachnid Silk provided extra defence in vulnerable areas. Anton had yet to ask the Dwarves if Ulyaa’s silk could be used as bow or crossbow strings, or even for the ballistas.

“This is incredible.” Rasha pumped her arms into the air. “It’s a little heavier than before but it feels really strong.”

Rasha thumped her chest plate. She laughed as she continued to hit it. “Before that would have pushed hard against my chest. Now it’s nothing.”

“Incredible.” Anton nodded appreciatively at the Master Smith.

Crude exo-suit armour? I think only someone as strong as Rasha could use it...Then again the Dwarves do have those energy cubes…

Rasha planted her hands on her hips as the other Dwarves moved back to appreciate their work. Unlike Cetina’s armour the surface was simple, little more than a polished steel. No colour had been added and for that Anton was a little glad. Cetina’s colour scheme was more than a little questionable. There were no gaps except for the very bottoms of her hooves. Those were left exposed but it was only an inch at most.

“Less gaudy than Cetina’s.” Anton chuckled. “I like it. They even gave you space for your horn.”

Rasha rubbed the tip with her metal gauntlet. “They almost forgot that I had this. Did they tell you that?”

None of the Dwarves met his gaze.

“I think it looks incredible.” Anton smiled and approached Rasha. “I think you look like a true soldier now. Not that you didn’t before...And truth be told, I think it really highlights your blue skin.”

For a moment Rasha looked happy, then the wave of sadness overtook her, now with a sense of anger and resentment.

“Alright.” Anton took a deep breath. “You’ve been acting-”

A Dwarf’s shout stopped him dead. They drew their weapons and pointed at the portal. A young human stood on the portal, Anton recognised him as one of the messengers, one that had nearly been killed by Cetina for being too aggressive.

“Forgive me for coming here, Lord Anton.” The young man winced. “But it is an emergency and they told me to find you immediately.”

“Is it the Centaurs?” Anton asked. “They should still be a few days away at the least.”

“Um...No.” The messenger raced towards Anton.

Rasha moved between them and stopped him with her outstretched hand. Despite his speed he stopped completely dead when he made contact with her hand, Rasha did not budge an inch.

“A message arrived through one of the portals.” The messenger waved a fine piece of paper. “It came through the portal to Graterious. The Principle Mage woman.”

“What does Mezot want?” Anton asked. Rasha took the paper and passed it to Anton, allowing the messenger to fall back.

Anton held the paper aloft. “I need help.”

“Does that sound like her?” Rasha softly asked.

“Kind of.” Anton held the paper close. “It’s her handwriting, and if it’s just been tossed through the portal…”

“Sounds important.”

“I need to find out if this is serious or not.” Anton shook his head. “Mezot is not the person to joke around with something like this.”

“I...Can’t go again.” Rasha smiled bitterly. “Just...Good luck. And be safe.”

“Thank you, Rasha.” Anton patted the top of her hand. “When we get back I want to know what’s bothering you, alright?”

Rasha slowly nodded and ushered him towards the portal. Anton hoped everything would be fine and Mezot was over-reacting. After all, what trouble could someone like Mezot really get into?

Volume 05 - Chapter 33 - Imperial Decree

Anton stepped through the portal to Mezot’s room in the Graterian Royal Academy. She had not sent any further letters nor come through herself. As Anton quickly pushed away the headache he understood her reluctance to make the journey, it became easier with each subsequent trip but it was still unpleasant. In the room beyond Mezot paced back and forth, carving a path through freshly accumulated loose papers. Some were nothing more than shreds, and she wore soft slippers.

"Mezot," Anton spoke slightly louder than necessary. "Are you alright?"

Mezot instantly stopped her pacing, her normally emotionless face, except if magic was the discussion, was drenched with fear and trepidation.

"What's happening?"

Mezot sprung back into life, rifled through the papers smothering her desk until she produced a small scroll. The paper was exceedingly fine and adorned with small tassels of red embroidery. The roll had once been sealed, a broken wax seal lay stuck to the top, but Mezot clearly had only opened it once. She hurried to his side and passed it over. He glanced at her again, Mezot wasn’t about to explain and Anton didn’t expect her to as he unfurled the small paper. Behind him the portal flashed again, Verona and Cetina stepped through, but he was too focused on the paper to notice.

“Lady Mezot, you are cordially invited to the Imperial Palace for the debut of Prince Proculus’s wife, Lady Nepia.”

“Yes…” Mezot nervously picked at her nails.

“And this is a problem because…?”

“Because…” Mezot looked back to the desk then to the door, perhaps for her daughter. “Because I have to leave the Academy. And travel to the Imperial Palace…”

Mezot pulled on her robes just beneath her collar. They weren’t bad clothes but they were not something one wore when meeting a Prince of an Empire, doubly so when he was introducing his new wife to the other nobles and important dignitaries.

“Do you not have a dress? Or whatever formal wear is in Graterious?”

“What’s happening?” Verona asked, wrapping her arm around Anton’s and pushing her chest into his. He caught Mezot glare, for just an instant, at the folds in Verona’s armour.

“Mezot has been summoned to the Imperial Palace for…What would you call it?”

Cetina delicately took the scroll from Anton’s hand. She grumbled as her spare hand traced underneath the words, she had been trying to improve her reading comprehension. Unlike a certain silver-haired woman…

“Looks like you don’t have a choice.” Cetina passed it to the nerve-wracked Mage. “Do you?”

Mezot shook her head, more of a tremor than a deliberate shake. “No. I…I didn’t think this could happen when I became a lecturer.”

“So it’s not just you.” Anton nodded once. “At least you won’t be alone.”

“They still don’t talk to me. Much.” Mezot looked to the door again. “I…I was wondering, Axia told me to be more…Assertive?”

“Did you want us to come with you?” Anton turned to the other girls. “We don’t exactly have good clothes ourselves but it’s not like we don’t have the money.”

Mezot clasped her hands deathly tight and nodded furiously.

“Alright.” Anton smiled. “Perhaps it’ll be a great excuse for a shopping trip. Ah, you girls might not know what that means, at least what it does to me.”

“Finally, some fancy clothes.” Verona parted from Anton. “Not that these aren’t good. But…Does that mean a dress?”

“Women normally wear dresses,” Mezot said softly.

Verona turned to Cetina, she nodded too.

“Well…I suppose it’ll be alright.”

“You really hate dresses,” Anton pulled Verona underneath his free arm and gently stroked her side. “Don’t you?”

“It’s not the dress itself.” Verona played with a loose strand of hair. “It’s just that I like pants...No breeze or someone to flip it up so someone can see my ass.”

“Then wear something underneath?” Cetina raised a brow. “I’ve worn them when I was younger, there’s nothing wrong with them.”

“We’ll get you a good one.” Anton parted her silver hair. “One where you don’t have to worry about everyone seeing this and gawking like you’re some sort of freak, or a marauding despoiler.”

Verona buried her head into his chest, suppressing a tiny sniffle.

“So where would we go to get these good clothes?” Anton asked. “I’ll need to get something good for myself as well. Obviously not a dress.”

“If we’re leaving I’ll break the portal.” Cetina deactivated the portal. “Just in case someone walks in here and finds this. Can’t have them finding Atros.”

“I can’t feel the magic now. Strange…” Mezot’s’ face lit up. “How is it that stones infused with Glyph Magic, able to move people and objects across truly vast distances, immediately disappears the moment the circle is broken. How is that possible?”

Mezot returned to her desk and shuffled through the papers. Anton stepped forward and gently tapped her shoulder. Mezot’s excitement remained but it dimmed slowly as she realised she wasn’t going to have time today.

“When is this thing?”

“This afternoon,” Mezot spoke without emotion.

“It must be a surprise wedding then.” Cetina mused, holding her chin and looking at the ground. “There have been a few very quick weddings throughout history but I don’t think they would invite people, even from the nearby city, if it was organised today.”

Mezot took back the scroll. “I received this three days ago.”

“You know…” Anton gently rubbed his temple. “You know that you could step through and find someone. You don’t need to wait until we step through before telling us.”

Mezot looked away, unable to look at any of them. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” Anton gently squeezed her shoulder, Mezot relaxed slightly.

“I…” Mezot frowned lightly. “I don’t have much money either. I still haven’t been paid for my Lecturer position…”

“They’re not paying you?” Anton asked softly, he felt his hand grip tight.

“They are. It’s coming in the next few days so…”

“Again, we have cash. So, what’s the best place in Boreana?”

---[]---

Acquiring the clothing was a rather long and uneventful affair. After demonstrating they were very wealthy the attitude of the designers immediately changed and they were rushed through the process. It was somewhat costly but Anton didn’t mind, not that they had much of a choice if they wanted to attend. After rereading the letter it was quite clear not attending simply wasn't an option.

As the journey to the Imperial Palace was quite long, and the chance of something happening to their new clothes quite high, both accidental and deliberate, they chose to rent a carriage. The two large horses parted the crowds, even when the people didn't want to.

Anton shifted in his new clothes. He wore something very similar to a black suit, with a bright blue blazer. Thankfully his new boots were oversized and his shirt was slightly loose to accommodate his changes. The shop employees were very understanding and barely inquired once he mentioned a magical mistake, which wasn't exactly untrue. However, his were not as monstrous as what the poor young student had suffered. Overall he was very impressed by their work, so too were the three women alongside him who had said nothing when he first revealed himself. At first he thought they hated it, he could not have been more wrong, even Mezot thought it looked good. Of course, it wasn't just him that had an upgraded wardrobe.

"Should we get a carriage?" Verona asked, sitting next to Anton, holding his arm tight. "Look how comfortable it is. We could easily explore the whole Kar Kingdom in comfort and without having to exhaust ourselves walking or riding."

Verona sat next to Anton wearing a bright red dress that reached her ankles. The upper half lay sheer against her skin, showing the world that her curves were entirely natural. As the red dressing reached the middle of her breasts it changed to a thin silvery material that reached her neck and to her fingers. A small metal band on her middle-aged finger ensured the silver cloth did not rider up her arms and, more importantly, reveal the red tattoos that covered nearly every inch of her body. Her hair had been braided and pulled to one shoulder, at the end layer her red and silver barrette, the other side of her head a beautiful white flower nestled above her ear.

If I met you like you are now I wouldn't know what to say.

Anton smiled, Verona frowned and leant closer. As she did her arms pushed her breasts together, pulling the silver cloth in, forming a perfectly smooth and alluring crevice.

Yeah. There's no way I wouldn't fumble my words. Probably just make an arse of myself.

"I have something far more impressive than a carriage in my mind." Anton kisses Verona's forehead. "There aren't all these rattles and bumps either. All we need is to find some rubber. We have everything else thanks to the Dwarves. Have I told you about my vehicles?"

“No.” Verona leant closer. “Wait. No, you did.”

“Are those the metal…” Cetina rolled her hand. “Metal contraptions?”

“Yes.” Anton smiled. “In a sense.”

Cetina still wore her personally stylised Qaiviel armour. The owner had been adamant to get her into a dress, so she could make more money, but Cetina stated her duty as Anton’s bodyguard and that she couldn’t do that in a dress. She acquiesced to a small gold and blue bracelet, one she was very happy to receive. Verona had mentioned how he was using gold to seduce women, Anton replied that he already had, all out of hearing range of Cetina. There was also a white and green dress for Kal, similar to Verona's that Anton hoped Kal would love. It was just a matter of convincing her to wear it. She was a bit like Cetina in that regard.

“They’ll revolutionise the world.” Anton proclaimed, much to their surprise. “Surely, Cetina, you don’t think the rifles are the only thing that I have?”

Cetina smirked. “Of course not. I doubt that someone like you is going to be satisfied with just that.”

Verona chuckled and stretched out her back, raising her hands over her head and pushing out her chest. The silvery material was very thin and when stretched it was thin enough to let the red tattoos to peek through. When she dropped her hands down, her upper body bounced up and down, much to the silent fury of the person sitting next to Cetina.

Mezot’s green eyes burned with a murderous envy, something Verona only seemed to exacerbate with her movements. Anton was astonished by the woman now sitting opposite him, there was no other way to describe her. Her short blonde hair was swept back, using a type of gel to keep it in place, with a small yellow gold piece of jewellery over her right ear, a small yellow flower over her left. Asymmetry was the current fashion, apparently. Although Anton suspected Mezot lacked in the chest department he didn’t expect there to be absolutely nothing. A completely flat body, albeit with a very narrow waist and surprisingly wide hips. Nevertheless, the tight yellow dress looked extremely good on her body. Especially when she was walking away. As Mezot calmed she placed her hands, bare hands with some simple jewellery on her wrists, in her lap and took a deep breath. Any calm she had instantly evaporated.

“How much did this cost?” Mezot blurted out. She was hesitant to even move her hands, to wrinkle the yellow dress. “I…I…This is worth more than the village I grew up in.”

“It’s…” Anton hesitated. Simply saying it was fine, while Mezot was panicking over the wealth that was being thrown at her, would only make the situation worse. And considering Mezot it was best to be direct and honest.

Funnily enough that seems to be the best approach for everyone.

“I thought that we should look our best,” Anton said calmly. “And this is a gift from me. But, if you feel that it is too much for a gift, then you can pay it back through teaching. I’m sure that a personal Principle Mage tutour costs a lot. Yes?”

Mezot nodded. "Only nobles or wealthy merchants can afford to send their children to the Academy."

"Then it looks like we'll be in your tutelage for some time to come." Anton smiled. "Please treat us well."

Mezot bit her lip as she tried to hold back a smile. Verona held back her chuckle while Cetina shook her head and looked out the carriage window.

The carriage began to turn very suddenly, Verona leant on Anton to stay upright, as they began the ascent towards the Imperial Palace. Even through the small glass window of the carriage, cutting off most of the palace, Anton felt very small.

Mighty spires cut through the sky, all of their tips glowed with an unnatural light which Anton presumed to be powerful magic. As they passed through Anton was reminded of the city shield that had surrounded Cloussone though far more subtle. Hundreds of Graterious soldiers, near-identical to those protecting the Royal Academy, stood proud on the inner walls; great bows, catapults and trebuchets ready to fend off any attacker.

“I remember someone saying the Emperor had Dragons and Griffins at his disposal.” Anton leant close to the window of the carriage. “Or were they Drakes? Either way, I haven't seen either yet.”

Verona gently shuffled towards him. She too looked out the window too, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“There are some,” Mezot said softly. She had calmed but refused to move lest she damaged the dress in some manner. "But I don't think they're kept in the Imperial Palace. Probably the Bestiary."

"The what?" Verona tilted her head.

Mezot shrugged lightly. "The place where the Royal Army is stationed. I believe it's to the north of the Palace." Mezot looked at her clasped hands again. "But I haven't left the Academy that often...So I don't really know."

“Probably kept in a dingy, dirty pen.” Verona leant her weight against Anton. “Only brought out for war or some kind of parade. But I'm certain they're horrifying to meet in battle. That dead Griffon could easily tear open a Peryton’s stomach.” Verona sniggered, raising her hands and resting them on her head, spreading out her elbows. “Not that it fared much better.”

“I’m certain Dragons would need to be kept in cages.” Anton mused. “Thick Adamantium bars too. Unless they are completely tame. I wonder what they look like. Are they like the ones from my memories?”

“Some can use magic.” Mezot’s perked up slightly. “From what I’ve seen it looks very similar to your Glyph magic. They don’t have staves of charms…Unless part of their anatomy allows them to replicate it.” Mezot held a finger to her lips. "Perhaps part of their skeleton acts like one?"

“Definitely not something you’re going to get your hands on.” Verona laughed. “Definitely not to dissect them. Don’t think they’ll like you doing that.”

“Only hardened Chelium or Adamantium can cut through dragon scales,” Mezot said, her tone as a matter of fact. "Iron and even Bosicyium bounce off. They are extremely dangerous."

"Drake scales?" Anton asked. "I can't remember which one they had."

“Stronger than steel,” Mezot said calmly.

Anton held his chin. “Only the most elite soldiers could use Dragon or Drake scales. No wonder everyone uses gambeson.” Anton smiled. “But we have someone who can make something order of magnitude stronger than cloth.”

“Out of her butt too,” Verona whispered then laughed loudly, much to Cetina and Mezot’s confusion.

“But if they only have five Dragons, or Drakes, inbreeding will become a problem. Something we might have to worry about with our animals, especially the Chiroks. Do you know where they come from?”

“I…Don’t know.” Mezot frowned. “I think it’s somewhere to the east, maybe. Or perhaps the south. I honestly don’t know. They were not something I was interested in learning about.” Mezot looked out the window. “The people that did know about that don’t talk to me…”

Anton sighed softly as he turned back to the window. The carriage lurched to a halt as they began the ascent towards the Imperial Palace. Many carriages littered the impeccably laid white stone pathway. A small cadre of Graterian soldiers surrounded the carriage. One knocked on the window. Anton produced the scroll and presented it to the soldier before he could ask. The soldier’s eyes quickly scanned the paper, gave a quick nod and ushered them forward.

Their carriage began the slow ascent up the gently sloped pathway towards the front of the palace. Anton spied guards lining the road, some even looked like armoured Principle Mages, patrolling through an extensive garden and multiple pavilions.

Some sort of public garden but for the Emperor's family? Of course you’d want to keep the riff-raff away. It does look pretty good.

The carriage began to flatten out as they reached the entrance of the Imperial Palace. The giant wooden door was made from a dark and red marbled wood straight from The Shadow Isles, quite possibly from the era of the United Empire, lay nestled inside giant white stone columns, great banners of the Graterious Empire’s heraldry fluttered in the light breeze. They looked extremely new, no tears or frays or even degradation of the colour. It would be untoward for the Emperor to look cheap.

However, the door remained shut with only a line of heavily armoured soldiers standing in front. From his position in the carriage he could see more gardens and small pavilions filled with people dressed in bright and fashionable clothes.

The carriage began a slow turn and stopped some distance before the main entrance. Verona looked forward before gaining Anton’s attention and tapping her cleavage. A small vial of fresh blood lay nestled within. Unless someone was actively trying to reach into her breasts they wouldn’t know it was there. Anton briefly remembered something very similar occurring at night but a knock at the door stopped such errant thoughts.

Cetina opened the door, the metal hinges barely made a sound, and a young male servant smiled through the door.

“Hello, esteemed guests.” The servant bowed low. “If you would please exit the carriage we will escort you towards the pavilion while Prince Proculus and Lady Nepia prepare for her debut.”

“It sounds like you already know that we’re supposed to be here,” Anton said.

Cetina tried to step out first but Anton stopped her. Her confusion was understandable, even the servant was slightly bemused. Anton wanted to take advantage of a very rare opportunity. Anton stepped to the side of the door, the servant took a step back and offered his hand. Cetina shook her head as he took hers. Despite the metal gauntlet her hold was gentle and warm.

“Should be the other way around.” Cetina murmured, but the barely hidden smile told him the truth.

Verona stepped out next. She took a moment and laughed as she took his hand.

“Thank you, Duke Anton.” Verona tried her best to curtsy but her dress was somewhat restrictive. “Though soon I’m certain you’ll be standing alongside the Emperor.” Verona gently touched the ground. “Perhaps he’ll bow to you?”

Anton pulled Verona close and glanced at the servant. His face was unchanged. Anton hoped he would think it was Verona’s attempt to butter up Anton, flatter him with something that was clearly above his ability. At least to an outsider, someone that didn’t know what he had planned for Atros. And even if word did reach his employers they would surely dismiss it. Had Verona mentioned the Beast-kin…

“Now, now.” Anton kissed Verona, giving her rear a gentle squeeze. “You need to behave yourself.”

“Can’t help myself.” Verona gently pushed him away. “I wonder what the Qaiviel women will wear when they throw themselves at you?”

Anton held out his hand for Mezot. “I do not think about that. And worry about the present.”

Mezot waited at the door, unwilling to move forward. Her feet nervously ground at the edge of the door, she held herself hunched forward in an attempt to reduce her presence.

“Mezot,” Anton said. He waited until Mezot looked at him in the eye. “Come on. We’re not going anywhere without you.”

Mezot gave one final glance either side before she stepped out. She took Anton’s hand, her hand was soft and extremely warm but lacked any significant strength, and refused to let go.

“Thank you.” Mezot almost smiled. “This…This is incredibly stressful for me.”

“It’s just a quick debut,” Anton said. “Basically a chance for the lords and nobles to mingle, maybe even try and arrange for their children to marry to strengthen their alliances and business ventures.” Anton turned to the servant. “About how long is this expected to take? Not that we’re trying to leave, of course.”

The servant smiled. “Similar events have not finished until well after dark. And, while there are debuts of lesser nobles, the Emperor and the other members of the royal family speak with everyone, from the highest born.” The servant’s smile deepened. “Even to a newly promoted Ice Mage.”

Mezot’s pulse quickened. Anton gently squeezed her hand to reassure her.

“Glad to know that the Imperial family keeps up to date on every little going’s on,” Anton said, the servant smiled. “How early are we exactly?”

“If you would please follow me, there is still some time before the main event.” The servant smiled. “We have many places where you can get out of the sun and the heat. It would be terrible for your clothes to be ruined by something as detestable as sweat.”

“That would be fantastic.” Verona chuckled nervously, pulling on the thin fabric covering her chest. “This stuff doesn’t have the cooling enchantment like my normal armour…As you can see I’m…”

Anton agreed, a slight amount of sweat had already caused it to stick directly to her skin. It made the see-through silvery material even more transparent.

“It’s not so bad.” Cetina flexed her arms. “You just need to get used to it.”

“You’ve had it pretty easy until now.” Anton squeezed Verona’s cheek.

Verona pouted before swatting him away.

“I’m afraid that you’ll have to surrender your weapons.” The servant bowed his head. “For obvious reasons, we cannot have weapons near the Emperor.”

“But armour isn’t a problem?” Anton asked. The servant raised a brow. “Not that I’m questioning your decision.”

The servant smiled. “Even with armour such as yours, it would do little to impede the Guards. You would barely make two steps before you were cut down.”

Well, that’s a warning.

Cetina looked to Anton. She really didn’t want to surrender her father’s sword.

“If we’re going to get in we’re going to have to obey their rules. It is their house, after all.”

Cetina reluctantly surrendered her sword, she made it clear to the servant that she would get receive it completely untouched. “Please take good care of them. They are very important to us.”

The servant nodded once. He requested the scroll invitation, just to double-check, and returned it.

“We would like some mild privacy before this event,” Anton said. “If at all possible.”

“Of course. Please follow me.” The servant said something to the carriage driver as he drove away.

Verona pulled close, wrapping her arm around his while Cetina and Mezot walked just behind. They turned some heads, Anton couldn’t tell who they were focusing on specifically but several were staring at Verona’s and Mezot’s rears, not that he didn’t understand their wandering eyes. The servant led them to a small garden pavilion, overflowing with immaculately maintained plants and flowers alongside some rock pools filled with fish. Anton almost skipped a heartbeat upon seeing the fish, memories of the White Realm came flooding back. With a bow the servant left, telling them they would be collected when it was time. Until then they could wait here, a different servant remained at the far end of the pavilion in case they required something.

“I suppose it would be rude to ask for something to eat.” Verona brushed the white stone seat that encompassed most of the perimeter of the pavilion. She frowned as she looked at fingers, a slight stain of dust on her fingertips. “I’m starving.”

“Something will be provided during this debut. If this thing is supposed to take the whole afternoon I’m certain they will.” Anton looked out of their pavilion to the people waiting. “If they don’t there’s going to be a riot.”

Verona laughed as she took her seat next to Anton. Cetina remained standing as Mezot stared intently at the selection of flowers and plants on display. Anton found it rather difficult to focus on her face, especially when her rear was so proudly displayed.

“And you said you were nervous,” Anton said. Mezot stopped studying the plants and looked at him, her face blank. “So far you’ve done extremely well. You didn’t really need us here.”

Mezot chuckled, something he rarely saw. “I’m not that good.” Mezot moved to take a seat next to Anton but looked at Cetina, standing before them with her arms folded. Cetina motioned for her to take the seat, which Mezot gladly took. “I still feel…Overwhelmed. But, after meeting you, all of you, it’s not so bad.” Mezot smiled nervously. “Without Axia it’s really bad. She keeps…Me calm.”

“She’s an incredible daughter,” Verona said. “I wish that my children are anything like her.”

Mezot blushed. Axia was likely the only reason that Mezot was still in the Royal Academy, perhaps even that was still alive.

“Do you think this is a good chance to get some more allies?” Verona asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Cetina said. She looked towards the servant, standing perfectly still but listening intently for the slightest hint their attention was required. “I doubt there would be any sympathetic to our cause. Especially anyone from the north.”

“Mezot,” Anton said softly. “Can you keep what you saw in our home a secret? Someone might try and pry it out of you, either by using clever questions over outright flattery. You’d be surprised what people might say when they’re speaking to a friend.”

Mezot nodded fiercely. “I understand, Anton. But…Do you think someone would try that with me?”

“Absolutely. You’re a new guest, very beautiful and a powerful Principle Mage at that.” Anton laughed. “If anything we’re going to have to fend them off.”

Mezot smiled, unsure of how to take such a blatant compliment. Verona and Cetina shook their heads, suppressing their own desire to laugh at Mezot’s embarrassment.

“Do-”

“This is a surprise.” A distantly familiar voice spoke loudly from the pavilion entrance. “I didn’t know where you’d gone after leaving Graterious for the second time.”

Anton looked past Cetina, who stepped to the side and instinctively reached for her sword, silently cursing that it was gone. Lord Cassius stood at the end of the pavilion, the servant standing in between, though it wouldn’t take much to simply push them aside. Cassius looked remarkably younger and healthier than before. No longer being influenced by Strega Magic was probably the root cause. A woman stood beside him, a young, thin and extremely beautiful with an exceeding revealing dress hugging her form. However, something about her expression bothered Anton, it was an expression Anton had seen innumerable times. She had almost no interest in what she was doing, only going through the motions for the money. Anton didn’t know if Cassius was married but he doubted that it would be appropriate to attend such an important function alone.

“How did you manage to get an invitation?” Cassius glanced down to the servant. The backs of his legs were shaking, Cassius was one of the three most powerful people in the empire.

“An interesting tale.” Anton smiled and waved him through, the servant respectfully bowed out of the way. The woman accompanying Cassius immediately moved to the nearest stone seat and ordered a wine.

It can’t be that bad, surely? Just act nice and smile…

“Does it have anything to do with this fair maiden?” Cassius nodded to Mezot. “I remember you, Verona, and Cetina, but not you.”

Mezot remained completely unphased by Cassius’s compliment.

“This is Mezot." Anton began, when it became clear Mezot was not going to speak first. Her body had turned completely rigid. Anton wondered if she knew what Lord Cassius looked like. "A recent addition to the Lecturers of the Royal Academy. She was invited to this…event, and had no one to go with.”

“So you just bought two, no,” Cassius smirked, snapping his finger at the servant. “Three incredibly expensive outfits just for this? Not to mention a complete set of Qaiviel armour. Did you even need me for a ship?”

“Absolutely. But we needed something better than just armour for our future outings.”

“I suppose,” Cassius whispered something to the servant who ran away with great speed. “But it does give off a certain…idea. To those that know you and those that watch your passing with great interest. Like you aren't interested in gold or prestige but rather something else. Something that might just turn out to be harmful to the empire.”

The servant returned with a large white wooden chair for Cassius. Cassius thanked the young man and took his seat.

“And what about you?” Verona asked, pointedly ignoring Cassius's last words. “Porswea is a long way from here.”

Cassius's lip twitched. “Of course I must attend this accursed gathering. I cannot reject a direct summons from the Emperor. Well, not without causing major issues.”

“I must ask.” Anton leant forward slightly. “But this is the same Prince that was involved with your…”

Cassius glumly nodded. “Indeed.” His hands gripped tight. “Every time I even think about that man my blood boils.”

“You’re,” Verona coughed lightly, pulling Anton up and herself closer. “You’re still wearing the little ward that we gave you?”

Cassius gently tapped the simple amulet on his arm, partially hidden underneath a far more expensive golden band.

“I have yet to take it off. I've never felt better. Actual sleep and no more nightmares.” Cassius tapped the amulet again. “I spoke to my mages. They didn’t know anything…They wanted to have a look at this amulet but I wasn’t about to let this thing leave my wrist for even a single moment. Can you check me again? See if something’s still lingering inside my head?”

“Can I use magic within the Imperial Palace grounds without getting into trouble?" Anton asked. "I’m sure they'd love to know why a Mage, and not a Principle Mage at that, is using potentially destructive magic so flippantly so close to the Emperor."

Cassius rose up and moved to the edge of the small ring of plants surrounding the white pavilion. He searched the lower gardens for something, snapping his finger at whatever had caught his attention.

"You see that?"

Cassius pointed to a small group in a nearby pavilion. Anton recognized one of the people from Mezot's test, he wore his best robes while he put on a display of simple magic. The smaller children looked thoroughly impressed, the adults were clearly discussing something but Anton couldn't make out what.

"Probably want to see if their child will become the next Battle Mage." Cassius laughed. "Striding into battle with magic and sword. Have you seen one in action?"

"No." Anton held Mezot's shoulder. "But our Mages tend to hang back, where it's safer. And for the safety of our own people. You should see just how powerful Mezot actually is."

Mezot flushed, Cassius raised a brow at Verona and Cetina but said nothing, even though they were both smiling in their own way.

"But my magic is slightly different," Anton said. "I'm sure they'll detect it the moment I use it."

Mezot nodded, the first sign of life from her since Cassius arrived. Anton wasn't surprised that it was only regarding magic, nonetheless in as glad that she wasn't frozen stiff.

"It'll be fine." Cassius smiled. "I'll just tell them you're with me, and my lovely..." Cassius raised his hand towards his disinterested companion, quickly letting drop against his side. "Person wanted to know."

Anton quickly searched through Cassius and found no trace of the green smoke. “Nothing. But there might be some inside your female companion. I should check her too."

“What…Oh, right.” Cassius dismissively waved his hand. “Go for your life.”

Verona frowned lightly as Anton approached the woman. She drank heavily from the glass goblet of wine, only sparing him a glance when it was clear he wished to speak with her.

“Excuse me but I just need to check something.”

She grunted and continued drinking. Anton mentally sighed and held her shoulder. She kept a firm eye on his hand as he searched and found nothing.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever.” The woman shrugged his hand off and returned to drinking.

Anton quickly returned to his seat, Verona gently patted his hand. “She doesn’t have anything, thankfully, but could you explain what’s happening with her? She…”

“I think it's pretty obvious." Cassius folded his arms. "My wife died just after my daughter. I have no desire or compulsion to be married again, but attending this event on my own is not good form."

“Since we have some time to wait.” Anton leant forward, there was no sign anything was progressing. More carriages were arriving and dropping off people, very few people were dressed as well as they were but the line of carriages was not stopping. “How are things in your land? Is Fort Acidava repaired and ready for the Clansmen?”

“It is.” Cassius smiled. “Those creatures were a surprise. Still no idea of what they are, people have been searching the oldest archives and found nothing.”

Well, we know what they are…Do we really? I’m certain the Wood Elves would know more.

“You still have the bodies?”

“Of course.” Cassius nodded. “Apparently their internals are very interesting. But…That doesn’t change much. Other than that…My lands are doing well, the Clansmen haven’t attacked and trade is doing extremely well.”

“And Virgil?” Anton asked. Cassius caught the servant’s attention and ordered some drinks. “An upturn in trade and increased traffic on the roads means better pickings for bandits. Did you get any further with Tullas Mad-Eye?”

“Annoyingly no.” Cassius folded his arms. “He gave us the information you did, I’d like for you to do that again if possible, but not little else. We disrupted their activities, overall they’ve been very quiet, but we’re no closer to discovering who Tullas is.”

“Could be anyone.” Cetina scratched her chin. “Man, woman, or a group of people pretending to be one person.”

“All are a distinct possibility.” Cassius glumly nodded. “No idea who it is. But I can’t have them harrying me much longer. Sending out soldiers and hunters costs a small fortune and saps my strength. But…I suppose it could be worse.”

“It would be terrible if it was someone in the royal faction leading these people,” Cetina said softly.

“I have often thought that.” Cassius rubbed his chin. “With one of their largest bases right here in the capital, I do believe that someone is sheltering them. I can't order a strike on-”

“There you are!” A new voice shouted from outside the pavilion.

Cassius rolled his eyes, forcing a smile as he looked over his shoulder. Standing before the servant, now slightly annoyed rather than nervous, was a short and stocky man, built more like a Dwarf than a human, smiling wildly behind a bright red thick beard.

He too wore clothing similar to Cassius but designed to show off his impressive muscles rather than Cassius's more humble design. His entire arms were exposed with his clearly defined muscles rippling with raw strength, the short man was truly built like a Dwarf.

"Lord Umbris." Cassius smiled and waved him in, the servant quickly moved out of his way. Umbris winked at the boy and slipped him a silver plate. "I thought they would have put you on the opposite side. You know what they say when we meet in public."

"That trouble is afoot." Umbris's voice was deep, rich and almost holding back a constant need to laugh. "Not that it isn't true."

Both laughed but a pain lay underneath, Anton saw it the moment they laid eyes upon each other. Their mere presence reminded each other of what they had lost.

"Can't wait for this mess to be over," Umbris grumbled before clapping his hands. "And who have you decided to harass today, dear friend? You didn't just happen to lay eyes on three beautiful women and decided to go for it? Even though they are clearly being escorted."

Umbris's eyes flicked to Cetina. "And one of those women looks pretty tough."

Cassius explained who they were, to the best of his knowledge. Umbris listened intently, not speaking a word while resting a hand on Cassius's chair.

When Cassius was finished Umbris nodded appreciatively whilst stroking his beard.

"So you were the one with the Dark Elves." Umbris chuckled, signalling the servant to bring another chair. "I didn't believe it at first when I heard they were travelling up the coast to Seocuria. The Dark Elves never leave, well almost never, leave their Isle. Except for that one group travelling through Bebbezzar. That was strange..."

"You have contacts there?" Cetina asked.

Umbris's eyes raked Cetina's armour. "That armour isn't from Bebbezzar but those colours sure are. I regret to inform you that Bebbezzar is now in a state of total collapse."

"How bad is bad?" Verona asked. They all knew it was bad but it would be strange for them to know everything, especially since they were supposedly travellers on some sort of mad quest.

"Very. My sources say that only one member of the Royal family still lives and she is on very borrowed time. The Merchant Lords in the centre and south bicker and war amongst themselves, some have tried to invade Qaiviel, which looked like it was about to follow in their footsteps but miraculously didn't."

Verona glanced at Anton, the slightest hint of a smile. It instantly evaporated, she remembered what type of people these Lords were. Anton had no idea if they suspected anything but descriptions of a strange group of mercenaries involved in the few major battles would eventually trickle back to Graterious. It appeared they did not know or were simply keeping quiet.

"So it’s essentially a colossal mess." Umbris continued. "The coastal port cities still stand defiant, though they've formed some sort of alliance to keep themselves safe. So trade still functions, for now at least. But the border with Seocuria is no better. That looks like it's about to implode as well, but I have no idea who's going to win that one. Probably the Seocurians. At least they’re a cohesive empire."

"And the cities and forts near the Clansmen. What about them?"

Umbris smiled. "They are the most heavily fortified and militarized places in Bebbezzar. Everyone’s going to give them a wide berth, unless they want to fight people that regularly stare down Clansmen and win. No point in widening your fronts, right?"

"Such a mess." Cetina grimaced and shook her head. "So many people dead for nothing."

Neither lord responded. If they had their way Graterious would have drowned in civil war already.

"Lord Umbris." Anton began, immediately cut off by a raised hand.

"Just Umbris, please. Like Cassius here we have enough people trying to grovel and heap titles and empty platitudes upon us to gain our favour. Just a few moments without that would be nice."

"Can't be easy in a place like this." Anton waved to the surrounding garden. "So many powerful people and yet you're both in one spot. I'm surprised a crowd hasn't gathered around you already."

Umbris gave a hearty laugh. "They had. By all the gods they tried to swarm me. So I gave them and my wife the slip. I know they'll be furious, my wife because I left her with such people, but I just had to get away."

"Umbris." Anton stood up. "I'd like to check you for something."

Cassius instinctively reached for his wooden bracelet.

"Don't think we have time for a full inspection." Umbris patted his large belly. "And I'm in fine health. Also, I'm not the kind of person that desires others men."

"Not that." Anton held his shoulder. "But I just want to make sure of something."

Anton slowly searched through Umbris's body. The man giggled and shuddered playfully but stopped from a stern look from Cassius. He found nothing until he reached Umbris's head. The green smoke was very weak but unmistakable. With a gentle brush the smoke disappeared.

"Do you feel any better?" Anton asked.

Umbris pursed his lips. "Maybe. Some mornings I feel extremely groggy, even when I haven't been drinking."

"He has it too?” Cassius's grip tightened on his wrist.

Anton nodded. “Yes. Not much though, but I have no idea what it was doing. It might have been a lingering aftereffect, I honestly have no idea.”

I wonder if Ferula would tell us exactly how Strega Magic works.

“But it’s gone now. I’d like to make something that can keep it at bay. Perhaps. I’m not sure if they’ve tried to get Cassius again. But I need something that you’ll wear constantly, so long as it’s not already enchanted with some sort of magic.”

“Really?”

Umbris received a nod from Cassius. Umbris passed over a small ring from his finger. Anton clasped it in his hand and stopped.

"Creating this is a little bit different compared to what I've just done. They might be even more upset." Anton looked out of the pavilion, guards patrolled the area but none were heading towards them. "I don't want to be shot by a guard with something to prove."

“It’ll be fine.” Cassius smiled. “You are demonstrating magic to Umbris. Just like those Mages down below.”

Anton muttered an enchantment on the ring to ward off Strega magic. Umbris warily took the ring back and onto his finger.

“So long as it keeps the headaches away…”

Someone having potentially complete control over your thoughts and actions isn’t a big issue for you?

“Strega Witches don’t operate in the open.” Anton glanced to Cetina. “It’s doubtful you’d know if you met one. We certainly didn’t.”

“Wretched things,” Umbris grumbled. “Strega Witches have long been a thorn in the side of the Graterious Empire and lands across the world. The sooner they are wiped out the better.”

“Any idea where they might be hiding?” Cetina asked.

“None. During my lifetime we’ve only ever caught one. And he killed himself before we could get much out of him.” Umbris laughed. “I don’t know if it’s even in this world or some sort of magical realm, hidden in plain sight.”

Like Ferula’s swamp…

“For all we know it could be through a disused door in the Imperial Palace.”

“Don’t say that.” Cassius weakly smiled. “They’ll start another search if they hear you.”

Cetina stood up, a hand reaching for her empty scabbard. “We have company.”

The servant, now thoroughly regretting being given them to look after, now stood before a small detachment of Graterious soldiers standing behind a young man, wearing Graterian Principle Mage clothes.

“Look like you did gather attention.” Verona shuffled upright. “I don’t think I’ll be much use here.”

“You can use magic too?” Umbris asked. “Wow. Two mages…Of course, three, but three in one place. What’s your speciality?”

The soldiers and mage pushed past the servant with a single swing of their hands.

Verona smirked. “Blood.”

Umbris blinked twice before he began to understand.

“Which individual just used magic within the Imperial Palace grounds?” The Principle Mage asked. His orange robes were unknown to Anton. Not fire…But what could it be?

“I asked him to do it.” Cassius dismissively waved his hand at the mage. “Umbris didn’t believe me and the easiest way is to simply show it. Or do you have a better idea?”

The Principle Mage fumed lightly. “Lord Cassius, you know it is forbidden-”

“Yes. Yes.” Cassius grumbled with genuine annoyance. “I will simply beg the Emperor for forgiveness when I see him. Is that good enough for you?”

“The type of magic used was not Principle Magic…”

Shit. They’re really good.

Cassius shrugged. “And? That in itself is not forbidden. Unlike Bebbezzar and Qaiviel we aren’t bound by their foolish superstition against older styles of magic. Or did you forget the previous Emperor could manipulate the earth without a Charm or any professional teaching?”

“I…” The Principle Mage straightened his clothes. “I have not.”

He looked directly in Anton’s eyes. “If you use your magic again within the Imperial Palace grounds there will be severe consequences.”

The Mages' last words was incredibly forced, like an attempt at intimidation. Anton had no desire to engage in a posturing match with someone with actual authority, playing nice was the safest option.

“I understand.” Anton bowed his head. “I meant no disrespect or wish to waste your time.”

“See?” Cassius raised a brow. “Enough with your idle and empty threats. Don’t you have something to be busy with elsewhere? Or do you actually wish to murder one of the Emperor's guests simply because you have not achieved anything in your service?”

The Principle Mage huffed and walked away, the soldiers right behind. The poor servant stepped from behind a pillar, now extremely apprehensive about anyone approaching their pavilion.

“Is it wise to be so…aggressive to them?” Anton asked. Verona and Cetina agreed. Mezot had remained calm during the entire debacle. Not exactly calm, rather she had been overwhelmed by so many people from positions of power and coupled with her own anxiety she had simply shut down. Perhaps that was for the best.

“I can’t help it.” Cassius sighed loudly. “There is nothing illegal with using your type of magic, I've checked, so they're just full of bluster."

"Piss and wind," Umbris added with a laugh. “Piss and wind. That’s all they are.”

"But we tolerate the petty actions of those far beneath us. Especially when there is a much larger game afoot.”

“What’s an orange mage?” Verona asked Mezot.

Mezot didn’t respond. Anton bumped her side, bringing her back to reality and repeated the question.

“An orange robe?" Mezot almost sounded excited to be speaking about magic again, the reality of her current circumstances quickly dampened her jubilation. "I think he might have been a Fire Mage that knows Wind Magic as well." Mezot frowned. "The colour of the robes doesn't always have to be right. I've known Earth Mages to wear red or blue. So I don't know."

"A clever way to trick your foes," Anton said, Mezot frowned lightly. "Trick them into thinking they're fighting something they're not. Or that there are many more than there actually are. It's not too difficult to get someone to wear a robe and hold a stick."

"It's not a stick." Mezot's voice was like ice. "It a Charm, one of our most important possessions. It is not a stick."

Everyone fell quiet as Mezot continued to stare at Anton. He guessed it had something to do with her former husband, an insult perhaps, but it was still very surprising to see her face filled with a silent rage.

"I'm sorry that I called it a stick," Anton said. "When it is obviously a staff."

Mezot's face softened. Slowly she realised what she had said and done. Before she could utter a word another servant approached theirs, red-faced and puffing loudly. Their shoulder’s dropped in relief. It was time to go.

Volume 05 - Chapter 34 - Imperial Debut

Soldiers and Archers, with their bows knocked, watched Anton like a hawk, doubly so after their little incident, as they began the ascent up the white flight of stairs towards the Imperial Palace.

“Remember,” Anton spoke in a soft whisper. “Try not to gawk or stare for too long at anything. Don’t want them thinking we’re a bunch of rural hicks.”

“Wearing this?” Cetina raised a brow. Verona ran a hand over her chest, smiling wildly while Mezot’s eye twitched. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“They might think we’re stupid and uneducated…That might actually be an advantage sometimes, but I don’t think it’ll be one here.”

Cassius and Umbris split away, moving with small groups of loyal retainers and family members. Umbris playfully shied away from a tall willowy woman who proceeded to lightly slap him on the head. He laughed and kissed her hand, she rolled her eyes and took his hand. Umbris caught Anton’s eye and winked, what exactly he was trying to convey he didn’t know.

Anton followed their servant through the main entrance. Giant marble pillars flanked the main carpet walkway. Bright glowing crystals radiated a white light, illuminating the entire hallway. Just like Duchess Belinda's mansion, huge paintings, most larger than people, adorned the far walls. Anton stopped when he glanced up; the entire roof contained a giant mural, dedicated to some apocalyptic battle. Verona lightly pulled him forward but something caught his eye, something that was minutely out of place compared to the rest of the mural. Several of the soldiers looked...off. For some it was just their helmets, others their entire body was wrong, misshapen compared to those nearby. They wore armour but it was too bulky, cumbersome, to wear properly. Some even looked like it would have been a shell surrounding their body. Almost like…

"They've covered it up." Anton softly whispered to Verona. She remained quiet, waiting for additional information. "This palace, or at least parts of it, dates back to the United Empire. Back when Humans and Beastkin fought side by side."

"Why not get rid of it entirely?” Verona studied the murals. “They've had time."

"Probably because they wanted to hold onto a bit of their legacy, so they just covered up the bad bits.” Anton grimaced. "It's been so long that they probably don't even know. Or care."

The servants and maids continued to usher them deeper into the palace. Anton took the time to inspect what the others were wearing; only a select few wore anything as expensive as theirs, they looked like lords and merchants of nearly equal power to Cassius and Umbris. The rest still wore very good clothes, even the young children. All were of the age they could walk on their own but none appeared to be enjoying their time. Amongst them were men and women, mostly men, that were dressed in armour. They had no visible weapons but he guessed they could easily hide a small dagger inside a fold, he knew that Cetina had many. These armoured escorts acted as a buffer between the different groups.

"I take it that these events are used to introduce people's children to the world too?"

Mezot didn't respond. Anton offered his hand, tapping her clenched hand with his finger. Her face was drenched in worry, she was only a few moments from breaking; hundreds of people were bustling about, muttering angrily as they had stopped, all scrutinizing and judging them, hundreds of eyes looking over them. Mezot quickly grasped his tight, he saw the small muscles along her arms tense tight but Anton didn’t want to mention that it was like a child’s grip. Anton received a smile from Verona and Cetina as he asked the question again.

"Y-Yes." Mezot pulled closer. "Once-Once that is done can we please leave? I don't like being around so many people..."

"The moment we can we will." Anton smiled faintly. "One new Lecturer from the Academy won’t be missed, especially if we say you’re feeling ill and need to rest. Just…Just try and stay as calm as you can. We won’t be leaving your side until we get back."

Mezot smiled appreciatively. She looked back and her hand gripped his arm even tighter. Behind, by several groups of people, walked several Lecturers and Teachers of the Royal Academy. While they wore expensive clothes and were as prim and proper as they could be they simply couldn't compare to Mezot. Mezot's relative youth barely played a part. They stared at Mezot, a mixture of envy and annoyance but Anton was sure she didn't notice. Instead he smiled and waved. They turned their attentions elsewhere in a somewhat obvious fashion.

"They're just jealous," Anton whispered to Mezot. “Combined they don’t look as half as beautiful as you.”

Verona laughed. “They’ll probably think you’ve been holding back on them. If anything those old hags will want to know more about Anton, so they can get these dresses for next time.”

"I don't know if I want that attention." Mezot smiled nervously.

The crowds passed through another door, three great dragons emblazoned onto black and red wood from the Shadow Isles and into a truly gigantic auditorium. Anton caught himself gawking at the sheer size, the height of the roof which extended far beyond anything he anticipated to see in this world; giant clear glass windows adorning either side, one solid piece, allowed great streams of light through and illuminating the entire auditorium. Hundreds upon hundreds of tables, draped in an immaculate white cloth, and chairs, soft and plush, littered the giant room. A veritable army of maids, older and perhaps slightly more refined than those outside, formed a wall before the first table, behind those stood another line, less complete than the maids, of Royal soldiers. Their weapons and shields glowed with a faint magical aura.

Really don't like my chances against this lot. Especially with those weapons. Imagine what the United Empire was capable of if this is a fragment.

The maids stepped forward and began to disseminate the small groups of guests, ushering and leading them through the line of soldiers to their designated seats.

"Any idea where you'll be seat?" Anton asked Mezot.

Mezot silently shook her head while staring at the ground. Slowly the crowds began to grow around them, Mezot was hardly good with light crowds let alone so many self-important snobs all pushing to be first. He heard many derogatory comments thrown about, not necessarily directed at Mezot, but she was not spared for daring to be in their way, always touting their position in some faraway city. Anton pulled Mezot a little closer, Cetina moved to fill the gap so someone else wouldn't.

Eventually, a maid worked their way through the crowds to them. Anton noticed the other mages from the academy were no nowhere near the front, something they took great offence to.

The maid asked for their invitation and, after a brief look, the maid nodded and led them through the lines. Anton felt the soldier’s eyes follow them intently but the moment they passed the line they flicked to the next group. Word had yet to reach them about the nature of Anton's magic. Or they thought they could simply deal with him without much issue, something that Anton suspected they might just be able to.

"As someone from the Royal Academy, you will be situated over here." The maid gestured to a table on the far left of the auditorium, not quite at the back but close.

We aren't exactly associated with any of the big players in Graterious...Actually Mezot isn't, since she's just become a Lecturer and she's not the easiest to speak with. I should remember that this is her day. I’m just a guest.

Anton saw Mezot relax slightly. She still held his hand but nowhere near as tight.

Even if she's more than willing to let me do the talking.

The maid ushered them to their seats, Anton pulled out one for Verona and Mezot, Verona graciously accepting hers while Mezot...

"Is something wrong with the chair?" Mezot asked flatly.

Cetina whispered into her ear and Mezot hurriedly took her seat, raising herself just enough to allow Anton to slide the chair. Cetina said nothing but offered a knowing smile.

"Cetina?"

"I'll stand."

Cetina moved behind Anton and kept her attention between everyone she could see. Anton realized, again, that nothing had been said about Cetina's eyepatch. Either they didn't know or they were used to it, perhaps weak magical artefacts were allowed in the presence of the Emperor. Probably not.

The maid stood to the side, one step back from Cetina's position, where she could watch over the table and still see the centre of the room.

"This doesn't look cheap." Verona ran her fingers over the white table cloth. "How much money is this worth?"

She glanced to the maid, who chose to remain silent with her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"...Well,” Verona poked the cutlery. “I think the silverware is actually made of silver."

"So long as no one steals them it's not so expensive.” Anton shifted his chair. “I think that's what the maid is for."

Anton smiled at the young woman. "Make sure that low-level guests, like us, don't run off with a souvenir."

The maid almost cracked a smile. Instead she gripped her hands tighter and straightened her back.

Probably would get into trouble later if she did. I imagine some pieces have gone missing while one person distracted her with pleasant small talk.

Anton directed his attention to the rest of the auditorium. Royal soldiers filtered throughout the room, stationing themselves along the far walls and in small groups scattered throughout the auditorium. These groups were four soldiers standing back to back, so they could keep an eye on their guests without having to move even their heads. The guests had almost all been seated, each group had a maid or a servant assigned with those of a higher standing and importance assigned someone older.

They don't need a pretty face, they want someone that knows...Wait...Oh. This could be interesting.

"Verona?"

"Yes?" Verona had been idly inspecting the silverware, attracting a few odd glances from nearby tables. Someone dressed as well and expensively as her shouldn't behave like a country bumpkin.

"You remember Danafra? And the auction..."

Anton glanced to the maid. While her attention was still out over the rest of the auditorium she was clearly listening intently, not that she couldn't stop listening.

So that's the other reason. Think of them as nothing more than a fixture and who knows what dirty secrets you could spill.

"How could we forget?" Verona looked to Mezot, staring down at the table, saying nothing but not breathing heavily, for now at least.

"After we bought, you know who, we ran into that man who wanted to pay us? Didn’t give us a number and we just sort of ignored him?"

Verona tapped her ring.

"Probably not a good idea to use magic in here if we don't have to." Anton glanced at the maid, who nodded ever so slightly.

"Look at the table on the far side. Straight across the open area in the middle, the first table."

Sitting at the table was the hook-nosed man who wanted to buy Marion but had been outbid. Anton had snubbed him after the auction, after he tried to purchase her from them directly. Seeing that he was sitting so close to the centre of the room Anton presumed he was going to offer him political favours in lieu of money. Thankfully he was seated side on so he wouldn’t see them unless they drew attention to themselves.

"Oh...Shit." Verona cast her head down. "Do you think he'll recognize us?"

Anton nodded. "Absolutely. How many silver-haired short women do you know, that are accompanied by a Bebbezarian soldier?"

"I'm not that short," Verona grumbled softly.

Cetina caught the maid’s attention. "Who is that man?"

The maid followed their line of sight and a surreptitious point from Anton. "Lord Kaeso. A governor serving under Lord Vissulis. He controls substantial territory near the Seocurian border. I believe his land is poor in forestry but rich in agriculture and has abundant deposits of iron and marble, as well as general trade with Seocuria."

"Trade tariffs?"

"Only for merchants. And then not a significant sum. Lord Vissulis is of the belief that allowing the merchants to prosper is in the best interest of his territory and Graterious at large."

"Being that close to Seocuria," Anton lightly tapped the table. "Some of the workers, probably the miners, are Beastkin?"

"Correct. Beastkin serve as the main source of labour for heavy and difficult work in the northern lands of Qaiviel, especially those with good relations with the Seocurian Empire."

Anton gently nodded. There was nothing to be gained by investigating much further lest they draw suspicion upon themselves by their questions. It would be expected for them to know the most basic facts about Graterious, they were supposed to be important enough to be in the presence of the Emperor. Besides, Seocuria would soon be in flames. There didn't need to be someone remembering them acting suspiciously.

A servant, one of the oldest, lightly tapped a small glass. The light murmurs buzzing throughout the auditorium slowly ebbed away. Anton found the other Mages from the Royal Academy nearby, they weren't any further back but neither were they any closer to the centre. The Royal family did not care about their petty squabbles and treated them all equally.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Despite the man's age his voice travelled far without any muffling or echoing, most likely a feature of the auditorium. He stood in a very specific position, at the centre of a circular marking. "Thank you, one and all, for coming this day. I would-"

A child began to cry, his wails cutting through the silent air. The servant stopped, keeping his hand raised, while a veritable swarm of maids and servants descended upon the table with the screaming child. Within a few seconds the child and the mother were escorted out, much to the concern of the father left behind.

"I bet that kid won't be walking," Anton said quietly, both Verona and Mezot shot him an odd look. "To embarrass them so much, especially before the Emperor..."

"We won't do that. Will we?" Verona asked.

"Of course not."

The servant coughed lightly. "I would have the privilege to present the Emperor of Graterious, Marcovious the Second."

The maid silently urged them to stand. Anton wasn't certain of Graterian customs but if basic Royal etiquette applied here it would be rude to be seated as they entered.

To their left, opposite the gigantic doors, a dozen Royal Soldiers struggled to pull open a door made entirely out of Adamantium. Two people emerged, flanked by more Royal soldiers, one man and one woman. The woman looked decidedly plain, at least compared to those that Anton associated with, but still pretty. She wore a simple tight blue dress with several gold and jewel-encrusted necklaces. A bracer made from gold adorned her right arm and a small silver braclet on her left. The man, who Anton presumed was the Emperor, dressed slightly more ostentatiously. His clothes were very similar to Cassius's but with more gold and exotic fabrics. The only noteworthy item was the crown on his head; one made entirely from thin pieces of Adamantium and a single large green gemstone in the centre. Undoubtedly it was expensive but otherwise quite plain. It appeared the imperial family practised a measure of austerity, at least compared to the fabulous and ostentatious clothes of the royals of Earth.

Is this the man that set a bounty of Ferula? Seems relatively normal, so far at least. Could easily pass for someone just walking along the street, not that I’ll ever tell them that. Nothing that hints at a long line of incest.

The couple smiled and waved as they entered the auditorium proper. Those gathered, including the servants, began to clap loudly. Anton felt it was slightly forced but nothing like several brutal dictatorships of Earth.

The Emperor and Empress bowed and took their seats, more extravagant than their clothes and more in line with what Anton envisioned a powerful royal family would use.

That's more like it. Still, I shouldn't judge. They're probably ceremonial chairs made potentially hundreds of years ago. They certainly look old.

Neither said a word as the applause died down. Several people tried to sit down but were quietly told to remain standing.

"His eminence..."

The older servant stopped as the Emperor rose from his seat. He bowed and hurriedly backed away, allowing the Emperor to stand in the circle.

"Thank you, Carothers." The Emperor nodded once to the servant. "Thank you all for coming from so far and so quickly. I understand that there are many things to be done before the snows begin to fall in earnest, so I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks for taking the time to visit us."

Don't think there's much of a choice.

"Our cooks have slaved all day to prepare a delicious feast-"

"This isn't so bad," Verona whispered.

"-But before we begin with the merriment I would like to introduce to you my son, Prince Proculus, and his new fiancé, Lady Nepia."

The clapping began once again, far more forced than before. Some of the servants clapped extremely loudly to account for the lack of enthusiasm. Out from the Adamantium door another couple emerged. Anton instantly understood why Ferula had failed.

The woman was very pretty and, just like the Empress, seemingly normal; long blonde hair, dark blue eyes with lightly tanned skin. With a moderate height, slim figure and a moderate bust Anton understood why she had been chosen to be the next Empress. However, her face desperately tried to hold back a pervasive sense of dread of every waking moment. The cause of which hung from her arm.

The prince was not attractive. In any sense. It was worse than simply being ugly, he was deformed. His lips appeared to be fat, as if he had just fought for his life and had been filled with collagen, chin non-existent, just a flow of fatty flesh to his neck with a few black marks where the few errant hairs forming a scraggly beard had been removed. Two large, wet green eyes nervously scanned everyone underneath a large pale forehead framed by thin whips of black hair. Thankfully he body appeared normal, doubly so compared to his face, but his clothes were very loose, easy to hide other deformities.

"That poor woman," Verona whispered. "She's..."

"We don't always have a choice," Anton replied.

"No." Verona smiled. "But I'm glad I got to make mine."

Prince Proculus bowed, a well-practised motion, and his fiancé curtsied. Emperor Marcovious smiled.

"I am honoured to know Lady Nepia, daughter of lord Vissulis-"

Many in the auditorium glanced to a single person. Anton felt a wave of relief, it wasn't directed at the man from Danafra, Lord Kaeso, but someone else on his table. He looked nearly identical to him except somewhat older. If anything he appeared to be his father.

If we ever go to war on Cassius’s side we might need to send an assassin to deal with him. I'm sure he's already prepared for that.

Anton glanced at Cetina, remembering King Leo’s war camp.

I know I wasn't.

"-Will soon join our family. There are simply too many people to meet immediately so they will introduce themselves throughout this exquisite feast. With that, I wish you enjoy your time. Long live the Empire!"

Another round of applause broke out.

"Is that it?" Anton wondered aloud.

Verona, Cetina and Mezot had no clue.

"Prince Proculus's fiancé will, one day, be the Empress of Graterious." The maid began. "As such, it is important to know, at the very least, what she looks like."

"But we don't know anything about her." Verona raised a silver brow.

"Do you expect this feast to be finished by nightfall?" The maid tilted her head innocently. "It might be done before midnight, if everything moves quickly."

Mezot whimpered. Anton gently reassured here that they weren't leaving her alone.

"When is it possible for us to leave?" Anton asked. "Providing that we do not break protocol."

"When the Emperor and Empress have retired. However, I do not believe that will happen anytime soon. Emperor Marcovious is to meet envoys from Xiam and Frindal today as well. Their dignitaries are attending this event as well."

The maid nodded to two groups situated near the back, either side of the door. Those from Frindal were separated into two distinct groups. One were the soldiers, wearing light armour, designed for ease of movement and heat reduction while having as much metal as possible. Only a slit around their eyes was exposed, everything else was completely covered. Their helmets were curiously tall with small slits near the top. Anton’s first thought was they were to allow the hot air to escape and not cook their head. The second group wore loose-fitting clothes, strangely thick but designed to keep the worst of the suns rays off their skin. Compared to the Graterian’s their skin was dark, darker than Cetina’s but less than the Dark Elves, and was very weathered. Anton didn’t understand who was the most important, as they worse different colours but something told him the eldest was not the most important.

And I can’t see any women. Perhaps they’re back in the Frindal quarters in the capital. Umikgruid said some unpleasant things about the Frindal Emirate and their treatment of women and homosexuals.

Xiam, however, appeared ripped straight from Ancient China, even down to their eyes, which were decidedly more narrow than everyone else. All wore immaculate green and dark maroon robes and curious square flat hats, which they refused to remove when seated. From the rear two corners hung two small lines of brown beads with a small golden star on the end. The more important appeared to have more points, with one person that had a single line for a star being treated little more than a servant. He all but bowed and scraped at every word, bowing so deep that his head nearly touched the table.

"Seems a long way to come," Anton said, taking his seat alongside the other tables. "Graterious is small compared to Xiam and Frindal."

The maid smiled. "Frindal is large but their...wealth leaves much to be desired. Xiam borders the Holy Kingsland, neither of which are at war but tensions remain high. They can spare a diplomat to, at the very least, ensure Graterious does not ally itself with the Kingsland."

Sounds a lot like Cassius's dealings with me.

Anton clapped his hands. "Well, if we can't leave for some time, we might as well enjoy it."

"Damn right," Verona smirked.

"Indeed." Mezot smiled. "Axia will be fine…Right?"

Anton nodded as Cetina shifted uncomfortably. She looked at an empty place on the table.

"Perhaps I should sit." Cetina reached for the chair. "Will they mind if I'm wearing my armour? I see a few others dressed like me..."

"Do not worry." The maid began. "The palace can afford such expenditures."

"Then don't mind if I do." Cetina took her seat. "So what is being served?"

---[]---

"That," Verona suppressed a burp. "Was way too much."

"I've barely gone through mine." Anton mused. He had eaten as much as he could but it hardly made a dent in the piles of food laid out before them.

Mezot, who ate a decent amount considering her physique, stared at Verona with a mixture of envy and awe. "How are you not fat?"

Verona's belly was now quite obviously swollen, the dress extremely tight around her stomach. Anton hoped it wasn't putting too much pressure on her budding baby.

"I honestly have no idea." Verona laughed. "I'm just glad I don't have to worry about that."

Mezot frowned but didn't press the issue. Anton wasn't sure if she'd come to her own conclusion or simply didn't know how to continue.

Mezot reached for Anton's hand. "Can we leave yet?"

Anton, even while eating mountains of succulent meats and fruits, still new to him despite travelling the width of the continent, had been keeping an eye on the movements of the Emperor and his family. Currently, he sat with the dignitaries from Xiam, for some time actually, while Prince Proculous and Lady Nepia spoke with Vissulis and Umbris respectfully. The squat man was very uncomfortable speaking with the Princess, not that the fault lied with her. It would be impossible to forget the loss of a child in such a manner.

I...I hope, pray, that I never have to bury my children.

"It would be a gross breach of etiquette to leave now." The maid said quietly. "Though Emperor Marcovious may not visit each table individually his wife almost certainly will. And so too will Prince Proculus and Lady Nepia."

"I'm afraid you'll have to be brave for a little bit longer."

Mezot nodded, holding her hands in her lap and biting on her lower lip. Anton continued to scan the room, there was little else to do. Small groups of people had begun to move about, only after the Emperor and his family had taken the first step, engaging in what Anton could only describe as some very aggressive bargaining. Every so often a brightly dressed child was ushered forward and motioning to someone else on the table. Some were clearly not interested and dismissively waved them away, they in turn held forced smiles as they retreated, their faces contorting in anger as near-silent curses escaped their lips.

While he could have used Tethra’s abilities to listen in he knew the soldiers, especially those wearing Mage attire, were keeping a watchful eye on him. There were certainly others that could use magic, like Mezot and the other members of the Royal Academy, he was an outsider of unknown strength. While not an imminent threat they would certainly be keeping a very, very close eye on him.

As Verona attempted to nibble at yet another piece of food he spotted movement just to the side of the Emperor's throne. A small column of well-dressed people emerged, holding a wide variety of wooden musical instruments. Some were little more than a violin while others required two people to properly handle.

It’s been so long since I’ve listened to music. Strange that I haven’t had the desire, but there are innumerable things more important than listening to a tune. Well, more tuneful than Verona’s humming.

Anton caught the maid’s attention. “It’s a little late to begin playing music, isn’t it?”

Verona and Cetina took notice of the small assembly. Mezot continued to stare vacantly at her empty plate.

“It would be too much to ask for the royal musicians to play during the entire feast.” The maid nodded to the centre of the room. “But he is a fan of dances.”

“Dances?” Mezot perked up.

“You know how to dance?” Anton was genuinely surprised and impressed.

Mezot slowly nodded, like she was merely confirming a well-known fact. “I was taught after I left my fishing village. Though I was born to a poor family I was expected to learn, to not embarrass my...”

Mezot’s face twitched in an usual display of annoyance. Though she had difficulty expressing her emotions it would be categorically wrong to say she did not have them. If anything she could be even more high-strung, as she did not have the ability to express them properly.

The central area was cleared of the few groups of people. A loose ring of new servants formed and ushered couples to their positions. Anton turned to Verona but Mezot’s chair squeaked. She now leant forward, watching the couples with an intense look.

“I…” Anton winced as another static laced memory tried to surface. He coughed it away, before anyone could notice. “Do you want to dance?”

Mezot nearly jumped out of her chair. She slowly turned to Anton, her face almost had a flush alongside a nervous expression.

“I…” Mezot gripped her hands tight on her yellow dress. “I do. But…”

“Are the movements simple?” Anton asked. Verona leant close while Cetina silently raised a brow as she munched on a small piece of meat from a bone. “I’m sure I could copy them, if you’re willing to lead.”

“I-”

“If you’re willing to be my teacher.” Anton smiled but Mezot remained completely still. Slowly a faint smile crept up the corner of her mouth.

Verona waved them towards the large space. “Go on, you two. Have some fun.”

Verona winked, a devious smile on her face as she whispered something to Cetina. Cetina agreed and smiled. Her body relaxed as she too began to partake once again in the piles of half-eaten food.

“This is your day, Mezot.” Verona continued. She mouthed something to Mezot but Anton just missed it, much to Verona’s delight. “Remember? Don’t hesitate to do something you like. Have some fun for once.”

Mezot took Verona’s words to heart. She stood up, the chair’s legs groaned against the floor, the maid rushed to her side as those nearby looked to the source. Mezot took only a few paces before stopping. Her foot tapped nervously as she looked back. Anton was already out of his chair and by her side. Anton offered his arm for Mezot, like the other men were doing for their partners. Mezot’s fingers twitched as she reached and held his arm. Her face almost held a smile, Anton had to pull her forward at a reasonable speed, as they neared the protective line of servants. One focused upon them, his eyes narrowed for just a moment before the professional smile took hold. Anton smiled and continued with a confident stride. Often merely looking the part was enough. He hoped that Mezot wouldn’t seize up and create a scene in front of the Emperor and his son.

“I’m going to need to rely on you,” Anton said. “What to do, what steps to make. Oh, and don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m making a mistake. Okay?”

Mezot nodded seriously as they took their position amongst the couples. Anton was glad to see there were couples far younger and older than them. They would slip unnoticed. Well, Anton would. Mezot’s dress was drawing significant attention, much to the annoyance of the female guests. Mezot seemed unaware and ran a hand over the golden jewellery over her ear.

“It’s very simple,” Mezot said softly. Her eyes were sharper, like she was teaching a new student. “Since this is the first dance it will be very simple, for beginners and the elderly. If we make a mistake no one will notice or say a thing.”

“You seem really excited about this. When was the last time you’ve done this?”

Mezot’s face fell. “Before Axia was born…”

A light noise came from the assembled musicians. A few were finalising tuning on their instruments, keeping their heads down from the curious glances of those nearby. Anton quickly found the Emperor and the Prince still on the far side of the room, now speaking with the representatives from Frindal.

“So what do we do?” Anton watched the other couples as they began to take their positions. They quickly entwined their hands while another head each other’s waists.

Good thing Verona isn't a jealous woman.

Mezot hesitated and looked to Verona. Verona smiled and gave a thumbs-up, rather thumbs raised high, much to the bemusement of Cetina and their maid. Anton offered his own, which Mezot took after much hesitation. Her hand shook slightly and, despite the lack of raw strength, he could feel her excitement. They were the last couple to be ready and were receiving some annoyed looks.

It's a few seconds. You'll survive. Unless you're actually trying to show off before the Emperor. Will I have to deal with such things one day?

"It's very simple," Mezot whispered, more for herself than Anton. "Very simple."

Anton gently nodded as he took hold of her waist. He wasn't about to let his hand hover over her, no one else was, but Mezot was still surprised. A moment later her normal demeanour returned.

A musician tapped his instrument and the music began. The soft melody, Anton placed it as somewhat 'classical' echoed throughout the hall. Without a word the couples began to dance, a slow but well-practised set of movements, spins and twirls.

Should have won better shoes. My toes are trying to slip over each other.

Mezot, true to her word, guided him as Anton copied the movements of the men around him. The soft hold became rigid, wrapping around his fingers and prevented them from moving. Anton expected nothing less from Mezot, to become so focused in her work that the word simply fell away. Anton quickly discovered the routine as it repeated in an endless loop while they slowly rotated around the room.

Who is actually watching? And not just because there’s a passing rear in a tight dress.

Many were merely leering at the dancers, Anton didn’t know what to say when he saw several women eyeing him off. As he had entered with some very noticeable partners, at the very least there should be some gossip. Anton caught Mezot’s eye. She stared intently at him, her grip had yet to slacken.

“I think I’ve got it,” Anton said. “So you can relax a little. No need to be so tense.”

Mezot’s fingers did indeed loosen, so too did the tension in her waist, but she remained quiet and focused.

I’m sure she’s enjoying it-

“Anton?” Mezot spoke far softer than normal. Just focusing enough to hear her words was almost enough to cause a mistake.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for coming.” Mezot looked towards another dancing couple. “I would never have done this...Any of this...Without you. I wouldn’t have completed my thesis and Axia and I would be living outside the Academy.” Mezot shuddered. “Or I might have to return home. I don’t even know if my parents are still alive...They were old when I left.”

“I’m glad to have helped.”

Mezot’s feet stopped. Anton lifted and spun her around, not the move he was supposed to do, so he wouldn’t trip nor cause the couple behind to fumble. On the outside it appeared they were simply having fun, not Mezot stopping dead in the middle of the Imperial Palace.

“Are you okay?” Anton glanced to their table. “Do you want to sit down?”

Mezot continued dancing but something was different. She was distracted by something. And it showed. She made more mistakes than Anton ever had.

“Mezot? Come on, you need to tell me what’s wrong.”

Or at the very least say that you’re not feeling well, so we don’t make a scene.

Mezot looked him dead in the eyes, her own sharp green eyes shone with a desperate need for an answer.

“If I help you create your own Academy…” Mezot bit her lip, enough to almost draw blood. “You’ll find someone that isn’t...Isn’t…”

Anton said nothing as Mezot searched for the right words. This was not something to interrupt or make light of.

“Like me.” Mezot’s shoulders drooped. “Difficult. And...So different. I know that I am. I…” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “I could barely take care of my only daughter. I’d become lost…”

Anton wiped away the tear that ran down her face. Mezot did not appear to notice. She hung her head low, her movements became robotic and had no bearing on what was happening around them.

“Mezot. I’m not going to ignore you, nor cast you aside just because I find someone better.”

Mezot looked up. Her eyes were red but the intensity soon returned.

“I would never abandon someone so important and precious to me. And that means that we stick together no matter what. I’d like for you to stay in Atros, more than just you being stuck in a room teaching our people. Remember our little excursion to the Lumber Mill?”

“I do,” Mezot said, only to acknowledge that she was listening.

“It was short but I enjoyed our time together.” Anton smiled. “And I know that you want to come back as well.”

Anton wasn’t completely sure about that, but Atros offered something that she had never experienced in the Royal Academy: an attentive class, people that would speak with her and those that understood her condition, even partially.

“So don’t ever think that you wouldn’t be welcome in my city or that I’d turn you away. Ever.”

Mezot smiled. “Thank you.”

Anton wanted to say something else but decided against it. It was a tiny moment for Mezot but he didn’t want it ruined. The dance continued for another minute before coming to an abrupt end. The couples split and some of the men kissed the hand of the women, especially the older couples. They giggled as their partners' lips made contact with their wrinkled hands. Older memories came forth, passionate times from their youth. Some of the younger men tried but were rebuked, much to their annoyance. Anton caught Mezot looking at them. Without saying a word he gently took her hand and gently kissed it. Mezot completely froze before her ears burned bright red. She tore her head away as Anton gently relinquished hold of her hand.

“I…”

Mezot looked away but she had the hint of a wry smile. Anton saw the servants suppress a smile at Mezot’s obvious embarrassment. Many of the couples dispersed and new ones formed to fill their place, those too nervous to dance on the first round.

Anton offered his arm. Mezot looked up, her face had returned to normal as she took his and returned to their table. Verona was beside herself with glee, bouncing side to side on her chair while Cetina smiled.

“How was that?” Verona asked. “Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I think so.” Anton pulled Mezot’s chair out. “I certainly did.”

“It…” Mezot took her seat. She touched her cheeks. “I haven’t danced in a long time.” Mezot smiled. “I thought I might have forgotten how.”

The music resumed and the couples began their dance. This was somewhat more complex than before, some of the new couples clearly thought it would be a continuation of the first set.

So it changes each time? I wonder when it gets back to the first one?

“Thank you,” Mezot whispered.

Anton smiled as Mezot fidgeted with her fingers. Verona made a noise as a small group of nobles, none of which Anton recognised, approached. It was less of a walk than a saunter, a confident stride knowing full well that they would not leave. He did not recognise them, nor any defining features on the clothes but they had been seated in Lord Cassius’s area of the hall. Anton heard Cetina straighten and rest her hand on the table. A dinner knife was not the same as a sword but a slit throat was a slit throat.

“Your dancing was very impressive.”

The leading man, wearing an expensive suit, smiled as he approached. Behind him walked two women, one clearly just in her teens, both wearing fabulous dresses. Unlike the man they had a small emblem on a special sash around their stomach. Anton did not recognise it but it looked very similar to Lord Cassius’s. Regardless, he was the first to even acknowledged their group. Anton smiled when he felt the angry glares from the other Masters and Teachers from the Royal Academy. They had only been approached by low ranking people, those even further from the centre and the Emperor’s throne then even them.

Mezot’s blank face greeted him. The man, nor the women knew what to do with someone who looked at them.

“Thank you.” Anton began, Mezot gave no sign she was going to speak. “It’s actually my first time. It’s thanks to Mezot’s skill that I didn’t make a complete fool of myself.”

Mezot smiled but didn’t say anything.

“I had asked our assistant,” The man motioned to a maid standing just behind, shadowing their movements. “About you. I was curious-”

Something caused Mezot to tense. Her green eyes constricted to a single point as she looked at something behind the man. Prince Proculus and Lady Nepia were several stables away but they were not what Mezot took issue with. Anton moved closer, followed her eyeline and found two people speaking with a table belonging to some kind of merchants. The man looked normal, for those attending this event; a little short, rotund but with a very well fitted red and black suit. Nothing too unusual. The woman was more interesting. Compared to the man she was considerably taller, immaculately curled brown hair and an extravagant amount of gold and silver jewellery, almost to a gaudy level. Her dress gave off vibes of Duchess Belinda’s design sense, except for one particular area. She was easily comparable to Verona in regards to bust, perhaps even Marion or Ulyaa in the right circumstances. When the couple moved away from the table Mezot’s eyes followed. Her body began to tremble, her head twisted to a sharp angle and her lips curled back. Never in his life did he think that he would see Mezot display such anger.

“Who are they?” Anton asked. Mezot did not answer, Verona and Cetina tried to follow Mezot’s furious gaze.

“Who?” The man stepped to the side, gently ushering the two women as well. “Oh. Lord Amulik and Lady Dossenia.”

Mezot began muttering something under her breath. Anton almost shouted as he recognised the words. She was trying to cast a spell, Icicle Tempest. Her hand grasped in vain for her staff. She clicked her tongue when she realised she could not find it. For once Anton was glad that Principle Mages were completely powerless without their charms.

“Please tell me you didn’t just try to do that,” Anton growled at Mezot, something he didn’t expect to directed at her, of all people.

“I…” Mezot kept her eyes firmly planted on the two. Her fingers relaxed and her head straightened up but she was still furious.

“And who are they?” Verona asked.

The man tried to avoid looking at her chest, a task he obviously failed, especially when Verona leant forward and rested her elbows on the table. He tore his eyes away before his wife, at least Anton assumed it was his wife, could see, but his daughter did. She looked at him in disgust but she too stared at Verona in disbelief.

“Eyes are up here, dear.” Verona winked at the young girl. She flushed furiously, a hand unconsciously moved to her own chest. “But, who are they?”

“They are nobles in Lord Umbris’s territory.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth. Anton wasn’t sure if she was more upset with Verona or her husband. “Lord Amulik family hold several mines and fisheries along the coastline. I believe that Lady Dossenia’s family owns several estates. Together they have quite a fortune.”

“Is Amulik-”

Mezot glared at Anton the moment the word left his lips. He needed no further confirmation.

“To think we’d meet them here.” Cetina mused. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Only…” Anton looked to Mezot, still furious but remaining seated, for now at least. “Only if they don’t...Oh, shit. They’ve noticed.”

Anton knew instantly that Dossenia saw and recognised Mezot. The woman uttered something to Amulik and ushered them towards their table. The unknown group knew something was brewing and quickly took their leave, even pushing their daughter so hard she almost fell over.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Anton told Mezot. He had to jab her leg for her to even register his words. She nodded but he doubted she would.

Great. Goes from one extreme to the other. Let’s try and get through this without Mezot trying to murder her ex-husband.

“Oh.” Verona clicked her tongue. “Let’s all be on our best behaviour.” Verona glanced between Mezot and Amulik. “I think you could do better, Mezot. Way better.”

Mezot said nothing and continued to stare daggers as they approached.

Lady Dossenia stopped a few paces away from the table, holding her hand in front of her face.

“Mezot. I didn’t think that you would ever amount to anything,” Dossenia spoke with an extremely haughty voice, annoying even without her attitude. “Last I heard you were nearly broke and on the verge of selling that frail body to keep you in that pathetic little Academy that you fawn over.”

Mezot was truly angry now. If she had access to her charm, or even a knife, she would have already tried to kill Dossenia. And Anton wouldn’t blame her.

“And who the hell do you think you are?” Anton said, since Mezot was still too furious to speak. “Coming here, on the Prince’s day, to antagonise someone. Are you really that pathetic of a woman?”

“And who are you?” Dossenia faked her mild bemusement. “You dress as if you belong but you clearly don’t.”

“I don’t even want to entertain this.” Anton caught their servant’s attention. “Can we please get rid of these two? They’re only causing distress and annoyance-”

“It’s been a long time, Mezot.” Amulik said softly. “Have you been well?”

“You left me.” Mezot’s voice was little more than a growl. “You left me and our daughter-”

Anton waved to the servant. “Now. Please!”

“-Alone!” Mezot slammed her fist onto the table, rattling the silver cutlery. “Because you-”

“I think he got what he deserved.” Verona laughed. “If he gave up someone like you and your daughter for some thing like that.”

The servant, finally, stood before Amulik and Dossenia. “You are causing distress to guests of the Emperor, and members of the Royal Academy. Please leave, or the guards will escort you out.”

Four of the Royal Guards slowly approached. They were listening very intently indeed.

“We have done nothing wrong.” Dossenia’s attitude was utterly infuriating to Anton, and everyone else at the table. “My Husband wishes to speak with her former wife. After how she treated him, completely disinterested in everything he wanted and ignorant to his needs, she is lucky that he even acknowledges her.”

Anton held Mezot’s hand over her lap, just to stop her from trying to grab a weapon and to try and calm her.

“You are an incredibly vile woman,” Anton said. Dossenia smirked. “Utterly vile. Thankfully we don’t have to deal with you. If we were outside of this place I’d probably push you into the river.”

“Ha,” Verona smirked. “I’d love to see her struggle to swim with all that dress…” Verona’s eyes narrowed to a squint but she didn’t say anything more.

“Is this the company my husband’s former wife kept?” Dossenia smiled. “No wonder he left you for me.”

Anton stared at Amulik. He matched Dossenia’s smile when she held his shoulder and brought it into her chest.

“There’s more to life than breasts,” Anton said, far louder than he intended.

Before either could speak the Royal soldiers had stepped behind the servant. In their presence, Dossenia’s previous arrogance and confidence began to wane.

“We weren’t doing anything wrong.” She pleaded to the guards in a sickly sweet tone. “We merely wanted to inquire about how one of our family friends-”

“You’re seriously going to lie like that?” Verona couldn’t hold back her own smile. “They aren’t stupid and they did hear you...I…” Verona’s smile widened. “I finally figured out what was bugging me about you. Something was wrong the moment I saw you.”

“What? You haven’t seen a real woman before?” Dossenia laughed while Amulik remained motionless.

“Axia is more of a woman than you,” Verona grumbled. She pointed to Dossenia’s chest. “Those. Those aren’t real.”

“What?” Dossenia acted bemused but Anton saw the twitch in the corner of her eye.

“Really?” Verona looked at her own chest. “Come on. If they’re really that big then there’s no way they’d rest that high on your body. Look at mine. They’re smaller than yours and they hurt my back. And…”

Verona started laughing, drawing attention from the nearby tables that had been listening in as subtly as possible, which was to say none.

“And mine don’t jut out of my armpits.”

Dossenia’s eyes twitched in fury but she could not respond.

“I heard that you became a Master,” Amulik said calmly, seemingly unconcerned with the soldiers almost blocking his view.

Mezot sighed. “Now. After so long. After you left me-”

“You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to.” Anton squeezed her hand tight. “You don’t owe them anything. Especially after what you’ve been through.”

Mezot stared into his eyes. Slowly they softened and the anger left her body.

“Amulik.” Mezot flattened her skirt. “I am doing well, now, thanks to my new friends. People that want to talk to me. That are willing to help me even though my mind isn’t right. Isn’t normal. I hope that you are doing well…” Mezot took a deep breath. “But I never want to see you again. Ever.”

Amulik’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly. “I see. I just wanted to talk to you about-”

“Took you long enough to become a Master.” Dossenia cursed under her breath.

“So you wanted something that only a Master could do?” Verona scoffed. “You don’t actually care, you just want her for something? Get out of here.” Verona shooed them away. “You’re both terrible people and deserve each other.”

Amulik’s face hardened. He wasn’t interested in reconciling with Mezot, only using her connections, not that she was that well-liked in the Royal Academy.

The Royal Guards pushed in front of the two and formed a solid wall.

“This-”

“It’s time to return to your seats.” A guard spoke softly, yet his words carried a finality. “Now.”

Amulik and Dossenia grumbled to each other. Amulik started to walk away but Dossenia remained.

“And to think after everything you’ve done to him, for your daughter’s sake-”

Mezot snatched a knife and threw it at Dossenia’s face before Anton could stop her. It struck the guard in the back of the helmet and bounced harmlessly to the ground. He turned and stared at Mezot. Mezot was already reaching for another piece of cutlery. Anton grabbed her hands and pushed her back into the seat, hard enough for the chair to slide back. She glared at him when Anton refused to relinquish his hold of her wrists, effectively pinning her in her seat. Dossenia smiled as every nearby table was watching, even some of the dancers had stopped and whispers were spreading.

“It’s time for you to leave.” The maid motioned the soldiers towards Amulik and Dossenia.

“She attacked a guard.” Dossenia tried to act surprised. “She should be arrested and thrown in the dungeons!”

Fuck’s sake.

Anton glared at Mezot. She was unrepentant and continued to struggle against him.

“What’s happening here?” A soft male voice spoke from several tables behind.

The Royal Guards stiffened, the guard facing them grimaced as he shot Mezot a worried look.

Dossenia looked very happy, Amulik decidedly less so, as Anton’s heart sunk. Prince Proculus approached, a smile on his distorted face. Anton kept his face flat as the Prince approached the servant. Before the servant could speak the glint of the silver knife caught his eye.

“How did a knife get there?” Proculus asked. “Did you drop it?”

Mezot’s hands began to shake. She started to understand the predicament she was in. She mumbled an apology as she no longer resisted his hold.

“My Prince.” Dossenia bowed deeply. Proculus barely noticed her until his eyes fell on her chest. Verona clicked her tongue in moderate disgust. “This woman tried to attack me.”

Proculus eyes wandered off of Dossenia and back to the silver fork. He reached down, a Royal Guard moved to pick it up for him but the Prince hissed at him, baring his teeth behind his swollen lips. The Guard reared up and stood perfectly at attention. Dossenia frowned as the Prince held the fork aloft.

“A little damage…” He held the fork close to his eye. “But I’m sure that it can still be used.”

He looked to Anton’s table, his eyes fell on Mezot’s place, the only person that was missing a piece of cutlery.

“I believe you dropped this.” Proculus delicately placed the fork on the table, though it was only at the very edge of the table and out of reach of everyone.

“Thank you,” Anton said softly.

A young woman, Lady Nepia, hurriedly stepped to Prince Proculus’s side. “I wondered where you went.”

She tried to affectionately rub his arm but the revulsion was clear the moment Proculus looked back to Mezot.

So far he seems normal. I hate to say it, but more normal than Mezot. Apart from the face. And the body. Is he going to become a lecherous creep? This we might just have to endure.

“You can’t just leave in the middle of a conversation.” Nepia continued. “They were rather confused.”

“Hmm?” Proculus appeared genuinely baffled. Nepia smiled and nodded back to the table they had left. The merchants smiled back but were more confused than offended. “Oh...Oh. I heard something fall on the floor, but it was just this fork.”

Proculus pointed to the fork as he rubbed his skull and the thin strands of hair that hanged limply against his skin. “How did it get there? From over there?”

Is this an act or a ploy? If he acts like a fool then people might think he can be manipulated. Or...He might be genuine.

“She threw it at me!” Dossenia shouted. “She wanted to kill me!”

Dossenia tried to approach the prince but the Royal Guards stopped her. She frowned but tried to continue to push. Amulik tried to pull her back but Dossenia was having none of it.

I’m sure I’ve met these sort of people back on Earth…

“Really?” Proculus was genuinely surprised. “But...But this is meant to be our day-”

“And it is.” Nepia smiled. “But I think that it’s-”

Proculus raised his hand. “I just wanted to know what was happening.”

No way out of this.

“Prince Proculus.” Anton bowed his head. He didn’t know if he was supposed to stand but it was, at the very least an attempt. “Lady Dossenia tried to antagonise Mezot, in retaliation for failing to provide them with a favour.”

Anton didn’t know what the two wanted from her but it was a solid guess.

Proculus looked to the fork. “Seems to have worked.”

Why was Ferula…

“She has also only recently been promoted to a Lecturer position at the Royal Academy.” Anton continued. “An Ice and Water Mage. And this, the debut of yourself and Lady Nepia, was her first official function. None of us were expecting to have such horrible things said about us on such an important day.”

Proculus had stopped listening about halfway through. His eyes had drifted away from Anton and fell on Verona and Cetina. Both were very beautiful, for different reasons, but most attention fell upon one particular part of Verona’s anatomy. Verona’s hand reached for Anton’s leg and held tight.

“Dear?” Nepia stroked his arm.

A mist had covered Proculus’s eyes, the look of lust and desire.

If he’s the Emperor’s son he might not have been denied something before…

“Dear,” Nepia spoke more firmly.

“Forgive me, dear.” Proculus smiled and gently held her hand. “I have never seen such beautiful-”

A growl escaped his fat lips. Verona’s skin crawled and Cetina looked visibly distressed. Nepia flashed them a worried smile and squeezed the Prince's hand tight again.

“How much did you have to pay for a Silver Eagle Clanswomen?”

Verona shrunk into the chair. Proculus looked at her like she was nothing more than a toy, something that he could amuse himself with for a few hours then discard. Anton wanted nothing more than to punch the man but he managed to keep his calm. When Proculus licked his lips Nepia’s eyes flicked either side and she pulled his arm close to his.

“Dear!” Nepia raised her voice. Whatever trance Proculus had fallen under was dispelled. “I think it’s time to leave these poor people alone.”

“Oh?”

Nepia smiled. “They’re clearly overwhelmed by being in the presence of the future Emperor.”

Proculus puffed out his chest, Nepia wanted to vomit.

“I suppose you’re right.” Proculus smiled. “It has been a long day too, hasn’t it?” He bowed his head to Mezot. “Congratulations on your promotion. I was informed by my advisors that a powerful Ice Mage had just been promoted. I didn’t expect that they would be invited to our debut.” Proculus held what passed for his chin. “I thought my advisors would have told me about something like that.”

The guards shuddered. Anton didn’t want to know what was about to happen to that poor man. Or worse if it was a woman.

“Thank you,” Mezot whispered.

“I’ve had ice cooled drinks before.” Proculus smiled. “Maybe the Royal Academy will soon be able to send someone to the Imperial Palace. I know my father would love to have them all the time. It would even help him with that sore back of his, especially in the morning.”

Anton forced a smile as Proculus laughed like he was the greatest comedian on the planet. When it faded he spun on his heel and turned to leave. Dossenia stepped in front of the Prince.

“She-”

“Who are you?” Proculus frowned. “You come from Umbris’s territory and yet you are a very annoying person.”

“I-”

Amulik forcefully took Dossenia’s arm and pulled her to the side. She glared at him but didn’t speak. Nepia whispered something into Proculus’s ear and the two moved back to the table with the merchants. They all acted as nothing had happened.

One of the Royal Guards lightly jabbed Amulik’s side. He took the wordless instruction and pulled Dossenia away. She managed a final hateful glare before walking away.

Verona whimpered, collapsing into her chair. “Was...Was I about to be raped?”

“I think he wouldn’t have accepted a no.” Anton grit his teeth. “Let’s just be thankful that it didn’t get that far.”

Anton turned to Mezot. “And for you...What the hell were you thinking?”

Mezot shrunk in her chair. “When she started saying those…” She cast her head down, her face burning red with shame.

“Please don’t ever do something so stupid.” Mezot nodded, suppressing a sniffle. “But I think this is as good a time as any to leave.”

Anton caught the servant’s attention. Compared to the other servants she was very distressed. She, like the younger servants that had waited on them outside, clearly regretted being assigned to them.

“Yes?” The servant sounded extremely tired.

“I think it’s best if we leave,” Anton said softly. “Is it possible that we can? None of us...Are feeling well.”

Verona and Cetina silently agreed, Mezot kept her face cast down. The servant softly sighed.

“I believe that can be arranged. Dessert can be missed, I’ll explain to the Emperor, should he ask, what has happened.”

Hopefully, he doesn’t ask. Maybe we should have bought cheaper clothes, but that’s all hindsight.

The servant left without indicating they could leave. Mezot began to sniffle. Anton gently held her hand, which calmed her a little. He meant what he had said, he wasn’t about to apologise for it, but there was nothing to gain by lamenting over it.

The servant returned with two new Royal Guards. “I have just spoken with the Emperor-”

I didn’t think it’d go that high.

“-And he has agreed that you may leave early. You have met the Prince and his new wife, in a sense.”

“Thank you.” Anton rose up.

“I have a sword,” Cetina said. “That I gave up before I entered the palace.”

“It will be returned before you leave. Now, if you will please follow me.”

The women rose from their seats, Mezot continued holding Anton’s hand, not that Verona or Cetina said anything, and followed the servant and her guards. Other tables turned to look, curious as to why someone was leaving early and whispered amongst themselves. The others from the Royal Academy too whispered, it might reflect poorly upon Mezot but her reputation was essential nill. Anton caught Amulik and Dossenia look at them but he promptly ignored the troublesome pair.

“I thought I recognised you.” A voice called out from behind.

Anton groaned internally as he stopped and turned to the source. The hook-nosed made from Danafra stood behind, Lord Kaeso, with another man. Anton felt his body turn even colder as he recognised him as Lord Vissulis. They well and truly could pass for brothers.

“I’ve never forgotten a face before.” Kaeso smiled.

“I don’t know if I should take that as an insult or a compliment.” Anton forced a smile. “I don’t think I’m ugly.”

“This is more than you said to me last time.” Kaeso chuckled. “Last time you just stared blankly at me, like you were some sort of mute.”

Anton didn’t want the conversation to continue but simply ignoring them was not a good idea. Their servant waited patiently to the side along with the Royal Guards, none were willing to interfere with what appeared to be a normal conversation.

“I had a lot on my mind.” Anton gently pushed Mezot forward. “But our friend here is not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse us-”

“Danafra is a long way from Porswea,” Vissulis spoke very softly. “And yet you’ve travelled there and back here, to be in time for Lady Nepia’s debut. You certainly like to travel far.”

“Who doesn’t like to see new places?” Anton forced a smile.

“People from the south tend not to like mingling with the Beast-kin.” Vissulis continued. “And yet you went all that way to spend almost eighty gold coins on an old Beast-kin woman.” Vissulis’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do something like that? I cannot understand it, it...Confuses me.”

“Why was Lord Kaeso interested?” Anton asked.

Kaeso smiled as he placed a hand in his pocket. “I have interest in peculiar specimens. One of the few Beast-kin to produce a Human Half-breed would be very interesting.”

Verona raised a brow. “Were you going to try?”

“No. Of course not. But I must admit that I didn’t expect the price to go so high.” Kaeso’s smile softened. “While I was not able to match your budget, perhaps there is something else I could offer?”

“What would that be?” Anton asked. “No.” Anton raised his hand. “I’m sorry, but we must be going.”

“You should be careful in the south,” Vissulis spoke louder as they began to push forward. “A madman runs rampant there. Tullas, I believe. He doesn’t take kindly to those that interfere in his business.”

Anton stopped. “I’ve heard of this Tullas. But it sounds like you know him quite well.”

Vissulis smirked. “It’s my business, my duty, in fact, to know of everything that happens in the empire, even if they aren’t happening in my lands.”

“Is that your official position?” Anton asked.

“No. But I’ve heard that Cassius,” Vissulis looked to Cassius’s table. He wasn’t looking towards them, instead engaged in an intense conversation with someone from Frindal. “Recently found many of their hideouts. Not through his usual brutish methods, simply beating them until they speak, but something far more insidious. Magic. Magic that can compel anyone to tell the truth.”

“An interesting ability,” Anton said. “I’m sure the Emperor would want to employ such a person.”

“Indeed.” Vissulis smiled. “I’m glad you understand the situation. Next time you are in Boreana you should speak to the Commander of the Imperial Guard. He would be very interested in such magic. But I think that we have taken so much of your time already.”

Vissulis looked at Mezot, he had barely paid Verona or Cetina any attention. “Congratulations on your promotion. Mages of your calibre are always in short supply and high demand. Even your daughter appears to have quite a high aptitude...Shame. A true shame.”

Kaeso glumly nodded with his eyes closed.

“What are you saying?” Mezot asked. The grip on his hand grew very tight.

“Your new friends have made some powerful enemies,” Vissulis spoke very flatly. “On all levels of the social ladder. And someone has just had one of their major hideouts destroyed. Many hideouts and is quite angry. I was actually about to come over and talk to you.” Vissulis coughed. “But those two fools, and the Prince, came to harass you instead. Has that been sorted? None of you looked particularly happy to see them.”

“For now,” Anton said softly.

“Hmm. Well, I was going to tell you that I’ve heard rumour that Tullas has agents in the Royal Academy, and that someone who has annoyed him has taken interest in one of the Masters.”

Mezot’s hand tightened.

Vissulis gently nodded. “Of course, that person isn’t there right now.”

Mezot squeaked. Fear consumed her face. There was only one person that Mezot truly cared for.

“But someone closely related to them is. And the vast majority of the powerful mages here, leaving only the dregs and cowards behind. No one strong enough to stand up to a forceful request by someone impersonating authority, even if they are corrupt and rotten to the core.” Vissulis nodded to the guards and turned to walk away. “I do not believe that tragedy should be used to form alliances.”

“Let’s go,” Anton whispered harshly.

Mezot’s hand was like a vice. Verona and Cetina were equally worried as they began to walk out of the room at great speed. The servant noticed and quickened her own pace.

A helpful warning, or did he order it and he’s going to use that to get on our good side? Hold on, Axia. We’re coming.

Volume 05 - Chapter 35 - Lure

The Royal Academy guards barely had time to even think of barring Anton's way. They raised their metal gauntlets but they had already passed before they could utter a word. Verona loudly cursed her dress. While it looked beautiful it greatly limited her range of movement, doubly so for Mezot as she was nowhere near as fit as Verona. Cetina ran behind, just to make sure that no one lagged and gently push Mezot. Cetina looked like she was ready to carry Mezot if Anton gave the word.

"Where will Axia be?" Anton asked. "What classes does she have now?"

Mezot had spoken little, barely able to contain her worry as they fled the Imperial Palace. Thankfully the adrenaline, fear or a mixture of both, loosened her tongue.

"She-She." Mezot gripped at her chest, trying to pull the tight fabric away. "She should be in Basic Attunement. Where they learn how to use and maintain their Charm."

"Building?"

Mezot pointed to one of the nearby smaller buildings. They moved as fast as they could, Anton didn't care they were drawing attention, some whistles and calls were thrown to the women but Verona rebuked them with her middle finger.

Anton pushed a group of young students aside and entered the building. Many students milled about in the narrow corridors, all throwing him an odd look before murmuring to one another.

"Where?" Anton found two older students talking just beyond the entrance. "Excuse me! I know I'm a bother but we're in a serious rush. Where are the younger students learning Basic Attunement?"

The young man looked at him with scorn.

"Peasant rabble-"

Anton grabbed his neck and crushed down as hard as he could. "I don't have time for you or you pompous fucking attitude! I was trying to be polite..." Anton managed a breath. His skin on his face was hot from anger. "If you don't want me to crush the life out of you you'll tell me what I want to know! Right now!"

"Second floor." His friend whimpered. "Room B."

"See how easy that is?!" Anton relinquished his hold and pushed him towards the wall. The young man sputtered and slinked away with the help of his friend.

Verona and Cetina shared a glance but said nothing, Mezot was too scared for her daughter's safety to do much else than worry.

Anton rushed up the stairs, Cetina just behind while Verona and Mezot followed as quickly as they could. Anton began to slow but Verona shouted for him to keep moving. They reached the second floor just as a stream of young students exited the second room along the corridor. He recognized them from Axia's class. The students at the front stopped, unsure of what to make of Anton and Cetina, both panting lightly from the run and climb.

"Is Axia here?" Anton asked. He didn't care what any of them thought, nor was he going to wait for them to pass in the hopes that she was there.

"She..." A young boy, perhaps a year older than Axia, spoke first. "A teacher called her away."

Anton felt his blood drain. It wasn't his child but they had brought this upon them.

"Who?" Anton held the boy's shoulders. "When? Where was she going?"

The boy was hesitant to respond. Verona and Mezot arrived at the top of the stairs. Many of the students whispered, some even gawking at the sight, especially Verona's now damp thin material.

"Where!" Anton shouted.

The boy jumped but he pointed to Mezot. "It was Drusus. He said that, since you're now a Lecturer, that she was eligible...or allowed, to get funding from the Academy. She seemed really excited."

"Mentioned something about helping her mother." Another student chimed in.

A murmur of agreement travelled over the students. Neither were as unpopular as they thought but that thought barely registered in Anton's mind.

They know a bit about her, that she's worried about their financial situation.

Anton knelt down, taking a breath to calm himself down. "Where did they go? It's very important."

Mezot hesitantly approached. She desperately searched through the sea of heads for a blonde bob but to no avail.

"I think they said that it was the old demonstration building." The young boy frowned as he held his chin. "But if it's from the Academy itself than why..."

"They wouldn't." Anton stood up and patted the boy's shoulders. "Thank you. You might have just saved your classmates life."

For a moment he didn't quite understand. It clicked the next, now he understood, at least partially.

"What's going on out there?" An older teacher stepped out, frowning at the students. "Why haven't you gone yet?"

All eyes fell on Anton. Together he and Cetina were blocking their way out.

"Drusus." Anton gently pushed his way through the students. "Where is he?"

"He was here before." The teacher frowned. A wizened old hand rubbed his hip. "Is there a problem?"

"Does the Academy give students of lecturer’s special...Money? Or privileges?"

"No." The teacher frowned at Mezot. "We try not to give any advantage to a student just because of their parents or a relation to a teacher or lecturer here. Mezot, you know that."

"I-"

Anton cut Mezot off. "So what did he tell you when he took Axia?"

"That there was a family issue, with...her mother...” The elderly teacher scrunched his eyes. “What is happening exactly?"

"Where did he go?" Anton asked.

"I saw them heading to the old demonstration building." The teacher pointed into his classroom. "I have a window..."

"Is there anything nearby that's also abandoned?" Anton held his shoulder. "Somewhere noise wouldn't be an issue?"

"You really think that?" Cetina whispered.

Anton glumly nodded.

"I...I'm not sure. I mostly work on the other side of the Academy. This is the furthest I come."

"There..." An older boy spoke up. "There is an old supply building. We used to go there to...Umm. Smoke?"

"You're too young for that. But...” The teacher sighed. “I don't think I'll report that."

"Which one is it?" Anton briskly walked to the window. The boy pointed to a small building, its windows broken and covered in panels of wood. "That one?"

"Yeah. There's an entrance to the side that still works. Not that I'd know anything like that."

"We'll check both." Anton caught Cetina entering the classroom and ushered her out. "Hopefully she's still alive."

---[]---

The demonstration building was completely empty, it was nothing more than a giant auditorium completely vacant of anything and anyone. There were no hidden rooms so Anton moved them towards the old supply building. Anton wished they had Kal, she had far more keen senses but she did not have a magical sense of smell. Anton briefly wondered if a Canine Beast-kin could but quickly dismissed the thought.

"Do you think she's safe?" Mezot whimpered. "She might be in my room. I think I should-"

Anton shook his head, only bringing Mezot more distress. "There wouldn't have been two different stories if she was."

Mezot was only a few breaths from a complete breakdown. Verona held her hand, Mezot gripped it with all her strength.

Cetina took the lead as they neared the far edge of the building. A hand was thrust into his face, a simple wordless instruction ordering him to wait.

“Are they there?”

“Something’s going on,” Cetina whispered. “And it doesn’t look like kids trying to smoke or to have sex.”

None of the young students had even suggested that but it was a possibility.

Anton peeked around Cetina’s waist. The supply building was indeed old and in desperate need of repair. However, on the far side lay an open door, just like the young boy said there was. However he hadn’t mentioned that the handle was broken, nor a piece of torn cloth fluttering in the breeze.

“That looks like it’s from the clothes she normally wears.” Anton held out his hand for Verona. “We’re going to be in tight quarters. So it’s mainly going to be up to you and Cetina.”

“Not really worried about what the others say right now, are we?” Verona glowed red and took a fresh vial’s worth of blood. “They might need to have a talk about who the mages really owe their allegiance to after this.”

They scurried across the open area, as fast they could when Cetina raised her hand again. Voices came from inside. None of it sounded good.

“Verona. Make sure that Mezot doesn’t scream or try to charge in there.”

“Shouldn’t that be your job?” Verona glowed red, coiling the blood around her hand. “I’m already going to be doing most of the fighting.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Anton took Mezot’s hand, she offered almost no resistance, and manoeuvred her close against the old wooden wall. Her backside scrapped against it and dirtied the beautiful yellow cloth. No one cared beyond a cursory glance.

“Four people,” Cetina whispered. She held the sword tight and flat against the wall. If someone looked out they wouldn’t see a glint of clean steel.

“Bitch got me good.” A gruff voice echoed down a hallway. “Look at that. Nearly bit my finger off.”

“Ha. I told you to break her hands.” The second voice belonged to a woman. “Then you wouldn’t be moping about a few scratches. Shit, she actually got down to the bone. She’s not bad.”

“They are pretty deep.” The third was an older man but still soft. “I’d see someone about that.”

“Like who?” The first spoke up again. “It’ll...It’ll be easier to just let it heal.”

“Are you honestly going to pretend that a lion caused them?” The third asked.

Anton tapped Verona’s side. “Try to keep them alive. When they near the door, do what you do best.”

Verona smiled wickedly and readied her blood shards.

“Shut the fucking door.” The woman said. “Don’t...Hang on.”

Anton realised they were casting shadows. He tapped Verona’s side and the shards flew through the open door. A few muffled screams followed and everything fell silent. Cetina peered around and waved them forward. Anton continued to hold Mezot’s hand as they entered the building.

The four thugs, Anton was all but certain that’s what they were, floated in the air, suspended by Verona’s blood shards. Of the four, two were already dead, the older man and a muscular woman, their bodies torn to ribbons and only remaining in one piece thanks to Verona's blood. The other two weren't doing much better: the woman, younger than her voice eluded to, was missing both of her arms and a leg, her intestines poured out of her stomach. The man, who would pass for a gangster in this world, wasn't in a better condition. He too had lost both of his arms but his legs were in one piece. His manhood, however, lay in a pool of blood on the floor.

Before Anton could ask how they were still conscious and not screaming their lungs out Verona demonstrated her handiwork. Her blood, in a liquid form, covered their mouths but left their noses exposed. Their wounds too were covered in a crystallized form Verona's blood.

"Horrific." Anton mused. His hand began to shake violently. Mezot whimpered and scrunched her eyes tight.

"Cetina? Can you take Mezot? I'm going to need both hands for this."

It wasn't strictly true but Mezot didn't need to see this. It would only fill her head with terrible visions of her daughter. Mezot didn't want to be separated from Anton, she whimpered and shook her head, but Cetina was much stronger. The moment she was free her hands gripped onto the edges of Cetina's armour.

"Bring me one that you think can still talk," Anton said. "I don't want to waste mana healing them."

Verona brought the man closer. His eyes had contracted to pinpricks and he was on the verge of passing out. The blood crystals that covered his stumps pulsed slowly, growing ever so slightly larger each time. Slivers of white, of bone, slowly came to the surface.

"If you want her to stop chewing away at what little remains you're going to answer..." Anton clicked his tongue. "There's a much quicker way."

He held the man's bloodied head and chanted a truth prayer.

"Where is Axia?"

Verona moved away just enough blood so he could open his mouth.

"Top floor." Tears flew down his face, his voice little more than a pathetic whimper. "In the last room."

He tried to scream but Verona plugged his mouth shut. Anton shook his head.

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you. Now, how many more of you are there?"

"Twelve." The man's body began to shake. "Please. Stop!"

"I bet many of your victims have said the exact same thing," Anton mumbled. "You seem like this isn't your first time kidnapping someone."

He tried to answer but Verona did not remove the blood. It didn't matter either way.

"Explain where they are in the building.”

“Two in the corridor above us. Six in the corridor on the top floor and the last four in the room with the target.”

“Her name is Axia,” Anton grumbled. “And she is innocent in all of this...Oh. I almost forgot. Do you work for Tullas Mad-Eye?”

“Yes.” The thug began to cry.

“Do you know what he looks like? Where he is?”

“No.”

“Then there’s nothing else I need to know. Verona?”

The blood liquefied and poured down his throat. The knowledge that his death was immense came as a huge relief, he almost welcomed it after what Verona had done to his body. Verona let the shredded body collapse to the floor.

“What about her?”

“Bring her with us.” Anton walked gently along the floor. “We can use her as a meat shield if things go bad. Or just throw her at them.”

“A portable supply of blood sounds fine.” Verona smiled warmly at the terrified thug. “But Anton’s blood is so much better than yours.”

Verona ground the thugs face against the wall. She tried to scream as the wood rubbed her skin raw, splinters puncturing her exposed flesh. “I can do a lot worse if you scream. And Anton a hundred times worse. Maybe he’ll sell you to Seocuria?” Verona chuckled. “If he’s feeling generous.”

“What is happening?” Mezot whimpered to Cetina. “They...They seemed like such nice people.”

Cetina stroked her back. “They are. But...But they don’t like bad people. Bad people, like those that kidnapped your daughter.”

Mezot tried her best to stiffen her resolve but the pools of blood were something that she could not ignore.

Anton gently walked up the stairs. He waved Verona right behind, she bent the surviving thug into a ball, somehow she was still alive and still trying to scream into the blood, and ascended the stairs. She pushed the bloody ball up and around to the next level. She timed it so the ball would emerge at the same time she could peer over. Anton heard a footstep from the level above, probably someone stepping back in utter shock at what they saw, just before crystal shards broke away and flew through the air. Two thumps followed. Verona waved them up, both of the thugs were dead.

“They’re down.” Verona sniggered.

They skirted around the dead bodies and reached the next flight of stairs. Verona repeated the same trick, this time the bodies didn’t make a sound. Anton almost spluttered when he saw what Verona had done. None were alive. Their faces no longer existed, not limb remained attached to the body and those had been ripped to ribbons. The bloody torsos floated, suspended by shards of blood that burst out like a sea urchin.

“Did you have to go all out?” Anton asked.

Verona, her red eyes glowing bright, could only smile. “I don’t like the idea of kidnapping a kid.”

She pushed the bodies away from the door at the far end of the corridor. Thankfully Mezot was becoming accustomed to the sight of mutilated corpses.

Slowly they approached the last door. Anton leant close and heard muffled voices from within.

“Where is this city?!” A man shouted from within. “Is this where Cassius is keeping the records?”

“I don’t know.” Axia coughed. “I don’t know what’s there.”

“So how did you get there? Do we need to get the hammer again?”

Anton tapped Verona. “She’s in there.”

Verona broke away several shards, liquefied them and sent them under the door.

"How will you know which is Axia?" Anton whispered.

"I can’t," Verona grumbled. "I have to see."

She leant down and found a small crack along the door frame. As she smiled a thug let out a scream, then the others, then everything fell silent.

"All dead." Verona stood up, brushing away the dirt on her dress. She pulled him down and whispered into his ear. "One had Axia by the throat with a knife. I tried to keep one alive but they immediately tried to kill her."

"Cetina? Keep Mezot here."

Cetina gave a curt nod and tightened her hold on Mezot. Mezot kept her eyes scrunched tight, trying her best not to see what Verona had done.

Anton pushed on the door, it refused to budge but Verona's blood leaked through and opened the simple lock. Just as outside it was a bloodbath. The thugs, two were women, were in better shape than those outside but were well and truly dead. Axia sat on the far side, bound to a chair. She had been beaten very harshly, bleeding lips and black eyes, but thankfully still had her clothes on.

"Hey! Are you still with us?" Anton stepped around the bodies to her. He wasn't about to ask an asinine 'Are you okay?'. She was very clearly not okay.

A wad of blood dribbled from her mouth. "Anton? Who were those people? Why were they asking about all of you?"

"They...We'll explain later. But for now, we need to get you out of here."

"Are they all dead?" Axia gripped tight on the chair.

"All but one." Verona entered the room, wincing at the state of Axia. "But we'll get you out of here and all healed up first."

Axia looked at Anton, her eyes were still swelling from the beating she had endured. Anton cut the straps binding her. She tried to stand but Anton held her back. He chanted a healing prayer and the wounds faded away.

"That..." Axia rubbed her hands. "Thank you." She leapt into Anton, almost knocking him over. "Thank you! I thought I was going to die!"

The tears began to flow, mixing with the blood and onto her clothes.

Anton quickly hugged her tight before forcing her back. "You’re safe now. But…I want to just take you out of here, but your mother is just outside. She's basically a wreck worrying about you. Now...I know this sounds shitty but can you not tell her I healed you? She...She's not in a good state herself."

Axia nodded and ran from the room. Mezot squealed Axia's name over and over. Anton heard a light thump against the wall as Cetina stood in the doorway.

"They're fine." Cetina smiled.

"They probably thought they would never see each other again." Anton looked to the decapitated bodies. "Can you make sure they don't leave? And no one else comes in? I'm sure the..." Anton chuckled. "Most of the powerful Mages are still in the Imperial Palace. How convenient."

Cetina quickly left, leaving Anton and Verona alone with the corpses.

"What records were they talking about?" Anton asked aloud. He moved from body to body, searching for anything of value or significance but these thugs were not complete amateurs. They wore nothing that could identify them, apart from the tattoo on the front of the wrists.

"What does she have to say about this?" Anton nodded to the floating woman. "We really didn't have time to ask her."

Verona smiled. "Let's have a chat then."

The floating sphere of blood and person stopped a few feet from Anton. She was still alive, somehow, and now looking at Anton with fury in her eyes.

"Glare at me all you want, it's not going to bring your arms or legs back."

The woman struggled, Verona hardened the blood and proved to her that resistance was essentially worthless. Anton reached for her head, the woman tried to back away in a futile attempt but Verona pushed her forward. She screamed as Anton chanted a truth prayer.

Verona liquefied the blood around her mouth.

"Why does Tullas want us dead?"

"You interfered with his gang." The woman struggled against his magic but that form of struggle was pointless too. "And caused him to lose many bases, people and money."

"But Cassius has been doing that as well, yet he isn't dead. Did we nearly stumble upon something he doesn't want anyone to know?"

The woman remained silent. The defiant and almost proud look told him that she knew nothing, the truth prayer could only compel her to speak what she knew to be true after all.

"Next question then. What records does Cassius hold that you're willing to do this to a young girl? How can you stomach that?"

The woman smiled like a deranged lunatic. "My mother raped me when I was a child, then she sold me off-"

Verona wrapped the blood around her mouth. She continued to try and speak even with the blood filling her mouth.

"Did she just break your magic?" Verona asked.

"No." Anton sighed. "She has to answer the last question is ask. That's all. But, what happened to you is no excuse for what you inflict on others."

She rolled her eyes as Anton asked the question again.

"Cassius has records of the Imperial family that haven't been changed or altered. Tullas can't find where they are so he wants anything and everything that might be useful."

"And you think some Mages that have recently helped him, yet aren’t in his employ is a good way to start?"

"We would accomplish both at once."

"I don't know how exactly this plan was supposed to work, possibly have us threaten Cassius for the records for Mezot and Axia's safe return. I don't blame Axia for telling you about our home, she probably thought it was what they were after."

The woman frowned.

"Right. You weren't there. What does Tullas want with the records?"

"I don't know!"

"What do you think he wants with them?"

"Something to do with his lineage. He might be related to Cassius or one of the royals and wants to take advantage of that."

"Explains why he hasn't tried to kill Cassius." Anton murmured. Verona raised a brow, an odd look considering her glowing red eyes. "He needs him to find these records, and no one else has them. Maybe he's not as powerful as people think? It shouldn't have been too hard to capture Cassius on the way to the capital. No idea how large a force he travelled with though...And it doesn't sound like it's personal either."

Anton focused his attention back to the woman. "How many more of you are there in the capital?"

"Over eight hundred." The woman smiled. "Many of them skilled killers, far better than any of us. You and your friends are dead once they discover we've failed."

"Better make that as long as possible." Anton mused.

Verona crushed her skull. Her ruined body gave up all pretensions of struggle and fell completely limp. Verona dropped the body at the far end of the room and relinquished her control. The blood coating her body instantaneously liquefied, spreading across the floor and seeping through tiny cracks. Anton didn't want to think what the rooms below looked like.

"A bastard prince?" Anton asked aloud. "That would make things so much more confusing."

"Maybe he wouldn't look like Prince Proculus." Verona shuddered. "If it was some random woman he might not be all..." Verona waved over her face. "That."

“Time to go.”

Anton walked back into the corridor. Mezot and Axia still held each other tight, Mezot whispering something as she rocked back and forth while stroking her daughter’s head. While it was heartening to see Mezot show genuine emotion, without the need to be reminded, Anton was very uneasy.

Even to a simpleton, it’s clear that we’ve involved them in something terrible. Though their lives might have been rough before they weren’t being targeted by an empire wide gang of bandits for the crime of associating us. If they decide to just run it’ll have been a lot of time wasted...Did I actually just think that?

Mezot turned her red, puffy eyes to Anton. “I...I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to Axia.”

“I’m afraid that we’re not safe just yet.” Anton began. “Not in the Academy and certainly not in Boreana.”

“Did someone escape?”

“No. There are almost eight hundred more of these people outside the Academy walls.”

Mezot’s face drained of colour, Axia was not far behind.

“Not to mention the teacher that lured you away.” Anton quickly checked the corpses. “Where did he go?”

“I didn’t think it was right coming this far.” Axia winced, her lip trembling as she locked eyes with her mother. “They told me you’d be getting more money and that I’d...I’m so stupid, aren’t I?”

“No.” Anton cut her thoughts off. “These disgusting people…They preyed on you, using your concern for your mother to lure you away. Blame them, not yourself.”

“Well, all these people emerged out of nowhere and he just stepped to the side. I couldn’t do anything before they had me tied up.” Axia raised her hands and clicked her tongue. The binding marks had been cleared away by the healing prayer. “One of those people took him to one side and that was the last I saw of him. The other person came back...He was resting his hand on a dagger.”

“He won’t be a problem then.” Anton almost smiled. “They could hardly keep him alive, barely even a tool, especially once word spread that he essentially kidnapped you.”

“Nasty stuff,” Verona added softly.

“There’s a few people gathering near the old demonstration building,” Cetina said. “Looks like those guards from the gate.”

“This...This might be tricky to properly explain.”

“I’m sure they’re going to freak when they see what I’ve done.” Verona laughed. “Don’t know what other kinds of magic can do this.”

---[]---

“You expect me to believe that?” The Academy guard asked.

Anton wasn’t sure if he was happy or disappointed that the apparent commander was the same man they had met when first trying to enter the Academy. Twenty guards, their weapons and shields lightly shimmering with a magical glow, had gathered by the time they exited the building. Behind those were several Mages, none of the same calibre of Mezot or the Head Master or his sycophants.

“You can ask Axia or Mezot.” Anton motioned Mezot to step forward.

Mezot had been thoroughly reluctant to relinquish her daughter and, even now, continued to hold her tight. It did not do their story any good by having Mezot look like a nervous, shell-shocked survivor.

“Mother is a Master now.” Axia stepped beside Anton. “So you have to listen to her.”

“If she speaks.” The guard said softly.

Mezot glanced at Anton. When he gave her a nod she rubbed the front of her dress, nothing had been said about their attire but several eyes had wandered and languished in certain places, and explained what had happened. She left out the involvement of Tullas Mad-Eye, Anton hoped she was being tactful. The guards listened in silence until she was finished.

“One of our mages detected some strange magic.” The guard pointed to a tall tower near the entrance to the Academy. “Guess that was you then?”

Verona huffed and folded her arms. “I’d preferred to have any other type of magic, but it has its uses.”

“We also found the body of Drusus...A single stab wound to the neck.” The guard sighed. “But that part seems to check out with your story.”

“Are we free to leave?” Anton asked. “It has been a long day.”

“You can. But don’t leave the Academy grounds until I say so. The investigations will continue. Food and lodging will be provided, don’t think that we are that frugal.”

“But there are more of these bastards coming.” Verona objected. “I mean, they got into the Academy once, so who’s to say they won’t do it again?”

The guard grimly nodded. “Those are the rules. I don’t have any say in them, I just enforce them. Even if they are a little stupid.”

The guard looked to the setting sun. "Of course, I'll need to inform the Principal, and it'll be his duty to inform me to order you stay. If you're outside of the Academy when that happens then there's really nothing we can do."

"I-I understand," Anton said softly. "We shall act accordingly."

The guard gave a curt nod and signalled for the others to disperse. A few moved to the building, to stop anyone from interfering with the scene of multiple murders, leaving them standing alone.

"Was there a reason he said it like that?" Mezot asked.

Anton hoped she was pretending but it was probably a genuine question.

"He...If you both stay here, more of them will come. And they'll send more and better people." Anton sighed softly. "And you can't spend the rest of your life cowering in fear."

"So what are you suggesting?" Axia asked. "If you can't stop them from coming..."

"You come to Atros." Anton made sure the guards were out of hearing range. "It is impossible for them to reach you there. Now..." Anton clapped his hands. "This also means that you must leave the Royal Academy. Likely forever."

Mezot tensed, her daughter winced as her fingers dug into her flesh. "But-But I've only just become a Master. After so long..." Mezot's eyes narrowed on Anton. "This wouldn't have happened-"

Axia jabbed her mother with her elbow. "You wouldn't be a Master if it weren't for them. You'd probably have been thrown out by now. Both of us on the street."

Mezot hung her head low.

Anton gently held Mezot’s shoulder. "I won't deny that it's true. But this is the situation we are dealt with. I won't force you to make a choice-"

"Do we really have one?" Axia asked dryly.

"Not really. But it is still yours to make."

"I think we should go." Axia looked at the Academy's structures with scorn. "I never liked the people here. Besides, the people in Atros are really nice. And they listened to your whole lecture."

"They did." Mezot smiled. "We'll come with you."

"Excellent." Anton ushered them to a brisk pace towards their home. "But before we leave we're going to need to gather some supplies. Since we won’t be coming back for a long time we’re going to run out of resources very quickly. I don't want you two to leave the Academy or even your room-"

"What do you want?" Mezot cut Anton off.

"You're a Master. So that means your words carry some weight."

Mezot rubbed her rear. The yellow dress only accentuated her curves.

"Not like that. But if you were to ask for a copy of every Principle Magic book the Academy has I'm sure they'll do it."

"You," Axia stifled a laugh. "You want to rob the Royal Academy?"

"Seems fair after all the crap they put you two through, doesn't it? You've more than paid your dues."

Axia's smile began to mimic Verona's. "When you put it that way..."

Verona snapped her fingers. "What about Kal's dress? It's still sitting in that shop."

"A lost investment." Anton smiled. "Though I would have loved to see her in it I'm not risking anyone's life for a piece of fabric."

"Not so much a surprise ruined but one that never happened." Verona huffed, folding her arms underneath her chest and pushing up. "And after I spent all that time making sure it would fit. Such a shame. But at least we’re heading home again.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 36 - Flight from Boreana

Boreana was nothing more than a faint glow on the horizon when Anton finally called for a halt. Their horses were very tired and they were not far behind. Thankfully they didn't carry any additional weight, like an extra few people or a heavy stack of books.

"We should be safe here." Anton led his horse from the road to a small clearing. "As safe as we can honestly be."

"Might be safer here than in a city," Cetina added. "No crowd for someone to slink away."

"So they'll just attack us in the dark." Anton dismounted, groaning as the sudden impact caused his dragonoid claws to stab his softer underside. "Same outcome, really."

Verona and Cetina silently agreed. Mezot and Axia were already safe in Atros, with all the books and materials they could scrounge up in the very short time gifted to them. There was no grand goodbye or wistful promise to return. Both stepped through the portal, Axia was admittedly quite excited by the prospect while Mezot was still a little shaken, and left their life in the Academy behind. However they could not leave their portal functioning in Mezot's dormitory, someone would investigate their disappearance and the shimmering white disk would attract considerable attention. They planned to reach a remote small city or town where they could establish a new portal, a place where no wandering mage would stumble upon it.

"Are you cooking tonight?" Verona asked as she readied their tents. "I'd love some good food-"

"You..." Anton laughed and shook his head. "You ate so much in the Palace. How are you possibly hungry?"

Verona winked. "I'm eating for two. Remember?"

"A baby can't eat as much as an adult. Especially with how much you eat."

Verona scoffed, folding her arms as she pouted. The bulges on their stomachs were slowly becoming noticeable, especially Verona. She was probably carrying twins, possibly even more.

"Portal's ready," Cetina announced.

The surrounding trees and shrubbery were bathed in a white light. Something scurried away, frightened by the sudden light but not their voices. Memories of the wolf attack in the Accursed Forest came floating back.

Kal, Calo and Sheso stepped through. They all wore garments that would disguise who they truly were, the twins had far less of an issue than Kal.

"Just us," Anton said. "The road's been pretty empty since we left the capital."

"Few people travel at night." Kal removed her mask and unruffled her hair. "That made it the perfect time for someone like me to travel."

Anton took her by the arms and kissed her. Verona and Cetina made only a cursory glance but the Dark Elf twins were transfixed by the sight, doubly so by Kal's expression, her face red and lips trembling. She remembered they were not alone and gently pushed him back.

"It's barely been a day." Anton gently scratched her ear. "Besides, I think you're causing them some distress. It’s like they've never seen someone kiss like that before."

"Not like that..." Calo said softly.

“Not often you meet a greedy man like Anton.” Kal winked at the twins. “I don’t think he’ll be satisfied until he controls the world.”

“You’ve been listening to Verona too much.” Anton gave her another quick kiss before she walked away. Kal smiled and helped Verona with setting up the tents.

“What do you want us to do?” Calo asked. “Kal just said for us to come.”

“Are you just setting up a camp for the night?” Sheso scouted their small clearing. “Doesn’t seem like we’re actually needed.”

“I’m going to be in Atros for a while,” Anton said. “I wanted some help, for getting the camp set up and in case someone tries something. Have you two been practising with your swords?”

The twins beamed with pride. They rested their hands on their single swords resting on their hips.

“We have.” Calo tapped the handle of her sword. “I think we’re pretty good now. Well, when we work to together.”

“So long as we’re up against one person,” Sheso added.

“A shield?” Anton glanced at Cetina. “A sword’s not going to be good enough to block an arrow.”

“I think we should get a buckler or something like that.” Cetina smiled. “Something light, so it doesn’t impede their movement. But you shouldn’t be worrying too much about that right now.” She nodded to the portal. “Leave this to us. Go and find out what’s happening to Mezot and Axia.”

Anton gave a quick wave and stepped through the portal. He barely noticed his headache as he left the building. Rasha waited for Anton just outside the building, leaning against the wall with her halberd resting in the crook of her shoulder.

"How were they?" Anton asked.

"Fine." Rasha nodded as she pushed herself off. "A little shaky but okay. The younger one, Axia, didn't look that great, now that I think about it."

"She was tortured for information." Rasha bit her lip. "But physically she's fine. We'll see how she's doing in a few days. She's a bit young to take up the bottle, but...Well, I hope she can make it through this without looking for a permanent escape."

Rasha glumly agreed. "A lot of Beastkin tried to do that, especially when I was young. The Master's soon figured a way around that."

"Which way?" Anton asked. Rasha began walking towards the centre of Atros. "I interrupted you. You were saying?"

"The Master's found a way to stop us from ending our own lives." Rasha continued as they walked through the sparsely populated streets. "They couldn't stop someone from doing it but they would punish everyone else in their cell. Everyone kept a keen watch on each other. Not because they cared, but simply because they didn't want to be hurt."

Anton sighed lightly. "Just another means of control. During your auction the Seocurian lady was almost laughing at how easy it was to control the Beastkin."

Rasha nodded. "Looking back on it, we were more afraid of each other than our owners."

"What about murders? Sounds like those still happened. Especially those that would snitch to the Seocurians."

"Depends." Rasha shrugged. "If they were old or sick they wouldn't care. If it wasn't everyone would be beaten. Or sent out to work with no clothes, or in the rain. Or both."

"You weren't exactly wearing much when we first found you." Anton smiled as Rasha almost stopped on the road. "In the ship. Not when you were being paraded about."

"Yeah..." Rasha started walking again. "But when you have almost nothing you'll fight the bastard trying to take it away."

"Speaking of lack of clothes-"

"Excuse me?" Rasha laughed, almost colliding with an equally distracted dog Beastkin idly walking along the road.

"How is everything...Up there?" Anton waved vaguely over his chest. "No further problems?"

"No!" Rasha's ears became tinged with red. "Not since then, no. Everything's..." Rasha sighed. "Well, I am still a Minotaur, so I have some issues, especially since they're so heavy. But no swelling or anything painful."

"Excellent. Don't hesitate to tell me if there turns out to be a splinter of it left."

Rasha smiled. "Thanks...And thanks for not telling anyone." Rasha cast her head down. "I probably wouldn't have told you if you hadn't forced it out of me."

Anton patted the back of her arm. "Just don't do it again. Okay?"

Rasha agreed as they walked in silence.

As the neared the Central Plaza, now awash with food and merriment, Rasha became more nervous.

"Spit it out." Anton chuckled. "If you want more of those potatoes that I made you can just ask."

"I..." Rasha held an armoured finger to her lip. "I actually would like some. They were delicious. But that's not what I remembered."

"Something to do with food though?"

Anton received many waves from the Beastkin having dinner. Some were clearly recently freed and were more reserved. It was a bit of a shock to them to be thrust into such a strange world, where humans and Beastkin more than got along, but they wouldn't reach out if they weren't.

“Well, not really.” Rasha threw Anton a sly look, sly for a three and a half meter tall slab of muscle. “Cetina’s been telling me about the foods that you eat when you’re exploring. Really good stuff too. Kinda’ makes me wish I wasn’t a Beast-kin and could go with you.”

“One day it’ll be possible. But for now, you’re just going to have to be content with journeying with us through these lands.”

Rasha raised her hand. “I don’t have a problem with it, just kind of wasteful to have a bodyguard that can’t come with you most of the time.” Rasha coughed loudly. “I was trying to say that Marion told me something she overheard the Dark Elves saying.”

“Is it similar to what it was last time?”

Though Leran hadn’t outright said it, Anton was suspicious he might try to gain more power and authority within Atros. He had sent Calo and Sheso to act as informants, probably. He didn’t know for certain, and it would be easier for him to act amongst the Dark Elves, even though their clan was far from popular.

“No. They were talking about money.” Rasha frowned as she rotated her shoulders. “Something about the work they’re doing isn’t getting them paid. Or something. I don’t know.” Rasha smiled. “I’ve never been paid in my life. Not even a single copper coin. What I’m wearing right now is the most I’ve ever had.”

“And with more Dark Elves coming in by the day...” Anton forced a hand through his hair. “It wouldn’t last forever.”

“What wouldn’t?” Rasha held her halberd tight. “Are you saying they’re going to try something now there are more of them than there are humans?”

“Soon there’ll be more Beast-kin and Dwarves than both of us.” Anton smiled, but it slowly faded. “No. It’s how Atros is being run. Up until very recently we’ve just been surviving, every resource has been pooled together to keep us from dying but now that’s over,” Anton tapped Rasha’s side. “We didn’t have even a basic set of plate armour at the beginning but now we don’t have such issues. Far from it, now we’ve got an abundance of resources.”

“I still don’t understand.” Rasha was becoming a little distressed. “They’ve got food, shelter and something to do. Isn’t that enough?”

“I suppose you could put it like that. But they come from places where you do get paid for your work, and they can spend that money on trinkets and simple things to make their lives easier.”

“Still don’t understand...” Rasha winced. “Maybe this is something someone like me can’t understand.”

“Absolutely not. I’m just doing a poor job of explaining it.” Anton returned the last wave as they left the Central Plaza. “But if we do start an economy, like the Dark Elves and Dwarves have, we will become much stronger. The most powerful and prosperous cities in the world lie on trade routes.”

Rasha continued to frown.

“You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Always,” Rasha spoke very softly.

“It’s important to get ahead of the issue, not let it fester and grow into resentment.” Anton saw a large house surrounded by Atros Guards, ones wielding the best weapons and armour they could supply. “So that’s another thing I have to deal with now...Thanks for telling me. Oh, and don’t think I don’t want to know just because you think it’s troublesome. I don’t want advisors to protect my feelings over telling me what I need to hear.”

“I’m an advisor?” Rasha scoffed. “Imagine what the Beast-kin in Danafra would say if they heard that.”

“They’d probably be in awe of you.” Anton chuckled as the guards noticed their approach. “How many Minotaur Oni’s have a duty like yours?”

“Just me.” Rasha almost flushed. “Just me.”

Of the ten guards, Anton was delighted to see two were Beastkin. They were male Felines, quick and agile and mostly humanoid compared to some of the more exotic varieties, but it was a good start.

"Lord Anton." A human guard bowed deeply. "The two guests are being well taken care of."

"They're settling in?"

The guard glanced to the Feline Beastkin. "As good as one could expect. The younger of the two, Axima, I believe?"

"Axia."

"Axia. She has asked a few questions about Atros. Where things are and who to speak to about problems. I didn't know what to say, so I answered as best I could."

"She wasn't acting down or depressed?" Anton approached the door. "They've been through quite a bit today. Especially Axia."

"Not that we could tell. The older..."

"Mezot."

"She seemed very quiet. Really quiet. But, otherwise, everything seemed normal."

"Thank you. I'd like for you to stay here for the night. If they need something then I want you to get it." Anton hesitated to knock. "Unless Mezot asks for something really weird. Like the heart of a goblin or something. She's already had a Wyrm Heart, however that helped her."

"Is this normal for Principle Mages?" Rasha smiled nervously as she held her halberd tight.

"I honestly have no idea." Anton knocked on the door. "Mezot? Axia? It's Anton. Can you open the door please?"

Light footsteps grew closer to the door. Given how slim Mezot was it could have been either. The small lock clicked and the door opened. Axia stood on the other side. She was tired, in both body and spirit, and looked like she would prefer nothing more than to crawl into a soft bed and sleep for the next month. Her face brightened as she recognised Anton.

"Hello." Her normal demeanour returned but an undercurrent of exhaustion remained. "Come in. We were just having something to eat, then we were going to bed. After today we're both really tired."

Axia left the door open, Anton followed but Rasha hesitated. She hunched slightly and passed through the frame. As she stood up her horn hit the roof. She lightly cursed as she continued to hunch over.

"Do you always have to do that?” Axia asked as Rasha closed the door. “Crouch. Seems like it would be a pain.”

“Not all the time.” Rasha smiled. “My house is tall enough that I don’t have to worry. It’s only when I go to other places that it’s a problem. One of the reasons I like being outside.” Rasha tapped her horn. “Don’t have to worry about this.”

Axia nodded thoughtfully but Anton could see that her lingering gaze was just an excuse to stare at Rasha’s chest. He wondered what either would do if they saw that her armour did a decent job of truly hiding her figure.

“Where’s your mother?” Anton asked. He rested a hand on Axia’s shoulder. “And what about you?”

“I’m right here?” Axia forced a laugh, the smile quickly faded. “But...Yeah. Not so great.” Axia shuddered, her fingers gripped into her arms tightly. “The longer I think about it the worse it gets...But I think I can make it. Just need to push through it, right? That’s what my teachers said about everything…bad.”

Maybe I should have Cetina talk with her. I know it’s not really comparable but I’ve got no idea what it’s like.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Axia. I don’t know what you’re going through.” Anton silently chanted a healing prayer. Axia’s breathing steadied and her fingers loosened as the magic coursed through her body. “But we’re here for you, no matter what time or the reason.”

“Okay…” Axia smiled. “I feel a little bit better already.” Axia pointed to the end of the hall. “Mother’s in there. She’s…” Axia rolled her eyes. “After everything that’s happened to her, to us, she’s back into her books. Honestly, she hasn’t changed.”

Axia led them down the narrow hallway. “At least it’s a bit neater this time. Maybe she’s worried about showing a bad side for someone.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know who that is? Would you?”

Axia winked. “I wouldn’t have a clue. Maybe she could tell you.”

Even Rasha rolled her eyes but remained silent. The room at the end of the hall was by far the largest in the house and already filled to bursting with books and scrolls. They were the books they had borrowed from The Royal Academy, but Anton had no intention of returning anytime soon. He hadn’t told them they would be wanted for theft but Atros needed the books more. Better that they see some use rather than turning dusty and rotten in some ancient and decrepit library.

They don’t have much chance to return now. Perhaps if they said that we kidnapped them ‘after’ dealing with the original kidnappers? Still flimsy.

Mezot sat in the furthest corner of the cluttered room, her face buried in an ancient tome while her staff rested perilously on a loose pile of blank paper. She no longer wore her tight yellow dress, a shame if Anton was honest, and now wore her normal mage attire. Not everything had returned to normal; she had yet to straighten her hair, it remained swept back, nor had she removed the golden jewellery piece hanging from her ear.

Is that going to become a permanent thing? I kind of like it.

“Mother?” Axia spoke in a very gentle, almost teasing voice. “We have visitors.”

“Hmm?” Mezot tilted her head but refused to look away from the book. “Axia? What was that?”

At least it’s better than the first time.

Axia sighed. “Anton’s here. And the big blue woman.”

Mezot jumped at Anton’s name. She snapped towards them and breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment her eyes narrowed on Rasha but she quickly averted them back to Anton.

“How are you?” Anton stepped into the room, mindful not to touch the tall piles of paper. “Looks like you’re already settling in. At least it’s bigger than your old room.”

“It is.” Mezot retrieved her staff. “Though I don’t have access to as many books as I’m used to I have more than enough.” Mezot pointed to a pile of blue books. “I even found a few books on water magic I didn’t know existed.” Mezot looked at Anton with a curious gaze. “Do you think they tried to keep them hidden from me?”

“I...I honestly don’t know.” Anton stepped forward to allow Rasha to step in. Mezot’s eyebrow twitched as Rasha stood up. “But are you two comfortable? I shouldn’t ask if you’re alright, after today.”

Mezot ran a hand over her ear, running along the golden jewellery. “I...After everything’s that happened today...It all seems like it’s not real.”

“It won’t.” Anton folded his arms. “Not until you wake up. It was the same for me.”

Axia tilted her head, Mezot stared blankly into his eyes.

“I think you’ve guessed by now that I’m not an ordinary person.” Anton cracked a smile. “Right?”

Axia laughed, quickly fading into a derisive chuckle. “Not many people would spend a lifetime’s worth of money on some random Mage.”

“Well...I don’t think Rasha knows this either, but since you’ve trusted me to come to Atros, again, I think you deserve to know it. I’m sure the three of you can keep a secret.”

Axia and Rasha nodded seriously, Rasha’s horn tapped on the roof with every nod but she made no sign she even noticed. Mezot remained blank-faced until Axia nudged her side, then she too was very enthusiastically nodding.

“I don’t come from here.” Anton raised his hand. “I don’t mean I’m not from Graterious. Or Qaiviel, or even Atros. I don’t come from this world.”

“I…” Rasha leant against the wall. “I don’t find that odd.”

“How?” Axia scratched her ear. “Mom. Is that possible?”

“I…” Mezot looked at the floor in deep thought. “It might be. That book on the Burning Light…”

“Is that something to do with The Shadow Isles?” Rasha asked. “Or maybe the Dwarves? They work with fire a lot.”

Mezot slowly shook her head. “No.”

Rasha had yet to be told about how the Beast-kin came into being. While it was a fascinating read, and somewhat disturbing, it had no real bearing on what was important right now. Not to mention Rasha would certainly press them for the whole story.

“I’ll explain it to you one day,” Anton said. “But I come from a world completely different to this. A place where there’s no such thing as magic or Beast-kin.”

“That explains your fascination with us.” Rasha smiled. “At least that’s what Irso calls it.”

“It…” Anton shrugged, holding back a smile. “It kind of is. When I first saw Kal I was more bemused and curious than anything, I almost thought she was dressing up. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Axia chuckled. “So you’re telling us this…?”

“Because you put your trust in me, so I should return it. Only a few people know the truth about where I came from, and not everyone on the Atros council knows either. The people that were in Atros at the beginning think I just sort of fell from the sky. Thinking about it, it did take a long time to fix that hole in that barn.”

“We can keep a secret,” Axia said. She frowned as something began to dawn over Mezot.

“Did you say your world had no magic?” Mezot glanced at her staff. “None at all?”

“None. I don’t think it ever existed, just people’s wishful thinking and attributing coincidence to an unrelated incantation. One of the reasons that I was surprised when I found out I actually could use magic.”

“But...What would I be?” Mezot’s breathing quickened for a moment. “I only know magic.”

“I’m certain you would have been a teacher.” Anton held her shoulder. “A great teacher.”

And Earth has better treatments for your ‘condition’ than what I can do. Anything’s better than what you’ve received here, a weird combination of the cold shoulder and ‘she’ll get over it’.

Anton clapped his hands. “But it’s a very long and involved story, especially when I need to stop every few seconds to explain something that seems incredibly simple to me...But is just gibberish to all of you.”

“Another world.” Mezot looked at her daughter. “Can you believe it?”

Axia exaggerated a disbelieving face, the moment she looked away Axia rolled her eyes.

So long as it stops them thinking too hard about what happened to them, I’ll do whatever needs to be done. I don’t mind telling stories about Earth. There’s still a lot that I need to tell Verona and Kal, and every time I tell someone that travels with us I basically need to start over. Maybe one day I’ll finish.

“Remember that there are guards outside.” Anton pointed to the door. “Please don’t bar it, but don’t hesitate to ask them for something. Food, water, something to help you sleep. Whatever you need.”

“I think it’s just best that we go to bed.” Axia’s eyes began to drop. “It’s been…It’s been...A day.”

“I can only imagine,” Rasha said softly.

“Can’t be as bad as what you’ve been through. Right? It wasn’t even a whole day for me, yet you’ve spent your whole life as a slave.”

Rasha looked at Anton for help. It was a good opportunity to make her feel a little better about what happened but only Rasha could answer it. He hoped she would speak truthfully. So long as the truth did not make things worse.

“It was bad.” Rasha glumly nodded. “And it does haunt me a little. But I know it can’t hurt me anymore. I'm focusing on what comes next. Each day is always exciting and something I look forward to. I couldn’t do that if I let what happened to me consume me."

Axia slowly nodded. "I think I'll head to bed now. They seem a bit harder than the ones in the Academy."

"With a few layers of fur and cloth it becomes pretty good."

"My bed has a bow in it." Rasha smiled and rubbed her rump. "They weren't expecting someone as heavy as me."

Axia laughed, Mezot glanced once to her rear then her chest. Rasha did not speak true, they had reinforced her bedding before she slept her first night, but the levity had worked.

"You're all safe here,” Rasha said. “If a Beastkin can walk the streets in safety then you'll definitely be safe under Anton's protection."

"Thank you." Mezot bowed her head.

"I'll see you two in the morning." Anton turned to leave. "Atros starts pretty early, with the new dawn. So you'll probably hear a lot of activity if you're still sleeping."

"I’ll be fine," Axia smirked at her mother. "Unlike someone I know."

That's a blatant lie too and you know it. You barely recognized us when we arrived early. Like you were still half asleep.

"We'll bring you something good for breakfast. But I need to head back to Graterious. I haven't heard anything but they could still be in trouble."

"T-Thank you. For rescuing us." Mezot smiled. "Both of us."

Axia stood up and held her mother's hand tight.

"We'll see you two in the morning." Anton waved as he began walking back to the door. "They're just outside if you need anything."

They returned the wave as they exited the building. The guards outside mulled around, clearly unused to guarding a building rather than standing on a wall, but snapped to alert when they heard the door open.

"They should be fine," Anton said. Rasha ensured the door was shut properly. "Again, if they need anything I want you to get it for them."

"Do you want me to stay here?" Rasha held her halberd tight. "You'll be leaving for a place I cannot follow..."

"Um...If you want to. But it's not like you can just enter whenever you feel like it. I doubt they'll be sleeping that much, especially Axia, so I want them to get every ounce they can get." Anton tapped her exposed hoof with his boot. "Those do make a bit of noise. Can you actually feel anything through them? Or are they a bit like a glove for your hand?"

"I..." Rasha smiled awkwardly. She was not expecting such an odd, and yet personal question. "I guess you could say that. It's not like toes...Not that I know what they feel like...What? Oh." Rasha pursed her lips. "I think I'll come back here a few times during the night. Just to check, not that they'll need my help."

"Don't forget to have some sleep yourself. You never know what tomorrow might bring."

Rasha laughed. "You don't. You might think that you're about to be sold to some twisted deviant only to find yourself travelling with one of the few humans that wanted to help her." Rasha's smile softened. "You never really do know."

---[]---

Anton returned through the portal. Verona and Kal waited for him on the other side, both with expectant faces. Cetina sat near the small fire, idly chatting with Calo and Sheso.

“How’d it go?” Verona jumped to her feet. She raised her hand as she held her head. “I really shouldn’t be doing that so much now, should I?”

Verona rubbed her stomach as Kal stood by her.

“It’s not like pregnancy means that you get locked away.” Anton gave them both a quick kiss. “Like anything you do will hurt the baby. It’s pretty well protected in there.”

“Are you calling us fat?” Verona laughed. “I’ll have you know our stomachs are flat and strong-”

Kal covered Verona’s mouth. “How is she?”

Verona pouted and bounced her head back and forth, Kal did not relinquish her hold.

“Both of them. Axia’s got it worse than Mezot.” Kal finally lowered her hand. “It’ll take time for her to get...Well, move past it.”

“I’m not sure.” Anton approached the fire. Cetina had a large piece of roasting meat hovering over the small fire, several rabbit skins lay discarded nearby. “But I’ve left about ten guards with them, and Rasha, just so they know nothing’s going to happen to them.”

“It’d be a determined assassin to travel to Atros.” Verona laughed as she took her seat. “Can I have one of those?”

“When they’re ready.” Cetina swatted away Verona’s hand. “You don’t want to get sick from eating uncooked meat.”

“I’ll be fine.” Verona shrugged. “Anton and Kal can heal me.”

“They followed me,” Kal said softly. “If the reward is big enough they’ll cross the entire world.”

“But they knew roughly where you were.” Anton sat between them. “I don’t think they can follow Mezot and Axia’s scent across the continent.”

The moment his rear touched the ground they leant against him. Cetina smiled, while the twins tried to not pay too much attention but their eyes wandered. They knew what would likely be happening if they weren’t there.

“Unless someone can follow some kind of magic scent.” Anton frowned at the shimmering portal. “I’d better get rid of that.”

“I’ll do it.” Cetina stood up, not before pointing a finger at Verona. “Don’t touch it before I get back.”

Verona leant forward, a playful smile on her face, but Anton pulled her back. Verona pouted as she nestled her head into Anton’s shoulder.

“Is Mezot going to travel with you from now on?” Calo asked. “If Verona and Kal can’t-”

“-And having a Principle Mage would be extremely useful to have by your side.” Sheso continued. Verona jabbed his side but allowed her to continue. “People will take you more seriously if they see that staff and charm.”

“She can use more than just Ice magic. Really haven’t seen much of her Water magic.” Kal mused. “I imagine it wouldn’t be effective in the desert.”

“That means she might not be coming to Frindal with us then.” Anton slowly nodded. “And Wilford’s not that far away too. Although, I’m sure they would be very impressed to see one. Especially away from the coast.”

Cetina returned with the portal stones stuffed securely in a bag. “I’ve seen water magic before. Some water mage must have run into trouble because they were helping a travelling circus.”

“I do remember you saying that.”

“Mostly...I guess you could say it’s kind of similar to Verona’s magic.” Cetina took her seat again, carefully watching Verona as she spun the meat. “Just not as gruesome.”

“I didn’t choose to have this magic!” Verona dramatically dropped her hands. “It sort of just happened. I suppose that’s another advantage to Principle Magic. They get a little more choice in what they can use.”

“Not really,” Anton said. “Mezot can really only use her Ice and Water magic to any degree. That’s why she was even put through the Academy in the first place.”

“I wonder what she looked like as a kid.” Verona held a curious finger to her lips. “Like Axia but with no emotion. A blank face...Kind of cute, in a way. Right?”

“I’m sure she would have preferred to be normal.” Anton squeezed her shoulder. “A life where she-”

A scream pierced the night sky. Everyone leapt to their feet, crouching low with their weapons drawn. Cetina, after a moment’s hesitation, knocked the food over and smothered the fire. They were completely encased in darkness. The stars above barely provided any light but Anton knew that Kal could see almost perfectly, the twins had better vision than them but it would still be difficult.

“That was a person,” Verona whispered. “Wasn’t it. Should we have stopped for the night? This close to the capital?”

“We’re far from the road,” Kal said. “And I didn’t hear or smell anything. More of those assassins may be on the prowl. Maybe they found someone that matches one of you and they attacked.”

“Definitely not me.” Verona mused. “Some poor person just got gutted because they have short blonde hair.”

“Come here, everyone.” Anton pulled everyone close, so he could touch them all with his hands. Calo and Sheso were quite confused, they squirmed uncomfortably and their skin burned with excitement and nervousness. However, it was not to be anything like they were imagining.

Anton chanted a prayer to allow them to be able to see clearly in the night. The twins gasped as Anton relinquished his hold.

“I can only see out of one eye again.” Cetina clicked her tongue. “I might not be so good at fighting as normal.”

“I doubt they’ll have any mages with them.” Anton heard the scream again. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“It’s some distance away.” Kal began wrapping cloth around her head and adjusting her mask. “We won’t make it if we just run.”

Though the forest was relatively thick their horses could move faster than they could run. They saddled up as fast as they could, literally throwing things onto the horse after ramming them into their packs, and rode as their horses would allow through the darkness. Anton had yet to give them the ability to see during the night so they just had to trust them that they weren’t being led into a tree or a small ravine.

Slowly a glint of light began to cut through the darkness, punctuated by more and more screams. They burst through the last thicket and onto the road. A large caravan lay parked just off the road, assailed by dozens of lightly armoured men and women, all dressed the same as the thugs that had assaulted Axia.

“Who-”

Anton didn’t reply to one of the thug’s obvious question and began to unleash his magic.

---[]---

The last of the assassins fell, those caravaners still living breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Are they all dead?” An old man asked. His clothes were drenched in his own blood, his face covered in fresh cuts and some of his fingers were missing. Despite his age he still had a fire of defiance in his eyes, doubly so with the small hatched held tight in his hands.

“They are.” Cetina ripped her blade from the assassin’s neck. “Well. All but one.”

Cetina nodded to Calo and Sheso. The twins held an assassin on the ground. Their short swords were rammed through a leg and his shoulder, they pointed a small dagger at his neck as the man writhed in pain.

“Don’t move.” Sheso’s voice was little more than a growl.

“The more you struggle the deeper the blades cut.” Calo wiggled the blade, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from the assassin.

Anton did not know if the blades were enchanted but the man certainly looked like it. It certainly didn’t help that he was resoundly beaten by, what appeared at least to him, to be two young and slim women. Their looks of utter disdain for the man certainly wasn’t helping either.

“You two did really well.” Anton gave their heads a vigorous rub. Their helmets, although tightly fastened onto their heads, still were left tilted. They pouted cutely as the adjusted their helmets back, the assassin’s screams ruined what was otherwise a cute moment.

“I’ll start healing everyone that’s still alive,” Kal said. “At least stop them from dying.”

There were not many assailants still breathing, let alone that could be saved. The man the twins held was the only man to have survived, it appeared the Caravaners had a very dim view of attackers, even after Anton asked them to be spared for the moment. Before Kal could reach them their throats were cut or their chests skewered with a blade. Kal returned to his side, defeated, and pointed to the only other living assailant. Three children, belonging to the caravan, drove a bloodied mace into his chest and groin repeatedly, laughing and cheering with every strike. Anton did not have the mental energy to try and save him, doubly so when the adults were loudly encouraging it and directing them to areas that would inflict the most pain.

"Why did you attack the caravan?" Anton summoned a Fire Bomb and held it close to the man's head. "Answer, or we'll drag everything out."

The assailant spat at Anton. "We were ordered to hunt down someone that would be fleeing the capital." A grin formed. "People that look like you, that silver-haired bitch and the one with one eye."

"And we weren't here," Anton said. "To start with."

Blood began to leak around and stain his teeth. "One of them looked like you. He was leaving the capital, figured the rest of you were in the caravan so we..." He began coughing violently.

"Forced the issue." Anton pushed the Fire Bomb closer. "And who ordered such a thing?"

"Doesn't matter." The assailant sneered. "We'd be dead anyway."

"I..." Anton shook his head. He could have easily used a prayer to compel him to speak the truth and yet he had chosen the traditional method.

Anton knelt by his bloodied foot and chanted the truth prayer. "I don't doubt why you are chasing us...Who ordered you to attack us?"

"Tullas." The assailant’s eye's shot open. He thrashed about, searching for a weapon that would end Anton's lifer or probably his own, but the twins stomped on his wounds, stopping him instantly.

"Did Tullas himself order this?"

"No."

"...Right. One question, one answer. Who gave you the order?"

"His agent in Boreana." The assailant coughed up yet more blood. "A man known as Seven."

"The number seven?"

"Yes."

"Where can we find him?"

"Southern side of Boreana, an inn called the Dog's Head. He sits near the fireplace."

"I'm sure Cassius will appreciate that information." Anton looked back to the city, now nothing more than a faint glow in the sky above. "But I'm not returning anytime soon. I think we have everything we need. Oh, do you know why Tullas wants us dead?"

"You interfered with his plans: the two bandits in Porswea which led Cassius to a number of important hideouts, the pirates which led to more losses, you've thrown your lot in with Cassius and yet nothing can be found out about you." The assailant smiled. "That’s more than enough to get on his bad side."

"You didn't have to torture a little girl to discover where I live. But all you've done is ensure that I fight against Tullas with everything I have, and I can make anyone speak the truth if I want to." Anton raised the assailant’s leg. "No matter what state they are in. Unless...Were you sent by a member of the royal household or a noble of the triumvirate or the lords themselves?"

"No."

"Well, that's a relief." Anton relinquished his hold.

"Why did you ask that?" Calo asked softly.

"I thought for a moment that I was being attacked by my potential allies, to trick me into helping them. Thankfully that isn't the case, or he simply doesn't know if it is."

"Now what?"

"I think you know what's coming for you now."

Anton threw the small Fire Bomb at his head. His screams only lasted a few seconds before his face melted and his brain cooked. Calo and Sheso recoiled in disgust, holding their noses shut and ripped their swords from his corpse.

"You didn't want him alive?" Calo asked.

"I probably could have."

Anton looked to the last assailants, now a whimpering mess underneath the children's blows. They were trying to crush his skull but their weight was insufficient, they had to run up to gain sufficient strength.

"Gods, I hope my children don't turn out like that."

"I'm sure they'll be great kids." Sheso smiled. A loud pop from the roasting assailant dented her smile.

"I could have..." Anton folded his arms. "But I am a little cross at the moment. More than a little. These are the same people that tried to hurt Axia, probably kill her, because of me. I don't like the idea of this thing." Anton kicked the limp corpse. "Being in Atros with them. I know he's not going to be doing much but I still don't like it."

The twins glumly nodded as they wiped away the blood from their blades. Verona, Kal and Cetina returned with a couple from the caravan. They were not guards but had done their fair share of fighting.

"Thank you." The woman took deep breaths in an attempt to steady her nerves. "We wouldn't have made if you hadn't shown up. I didn't realise there was a group of Principle Mages leaving Boreana."

"We're just glad to help."

The couple’s gazes were fixed upon the burnt assailant. While the fire had extinguished itself it left behind a charred skull.

"Do you know what set them off?" Anton waved to the bodies littering the ground. "Seems a bit much for a disagreement."

"They seemed fine, at first." The man began. "Weren't expecting so many at night on this road, but they were kind and polite enough. Then they saw Ayden and they just went wild.” She winced at a burnt cart, judging by the lack of flames it was one of the first to be attacked. “Next thing we know they’re trying to kidnap him. Then…” She limply shrugged. “Then you know what happened next.”

“Why him?” Calo asked.

The couple frowned lightly, they could see the twins had very dark skin under the dim light but hopefully thought they were Seocurians rather than Dark Elves.

“I don’t know.” The man sighed. “Ayden seemed like a decent person. Maybe he fell into the wrong crowd and owed money?”

“Oh stop that.” She slapped his shoulder. “You’ve known him for a long time. He’d never get involved in something like that.” Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she studied Anton more closely. “Is...Is that why you are here? To try and catch him?”

“Me?”

“You...Aren’t you his brother or something? You look very similar.”

And there’s the reason, not that we didn’t see it coming.

“No.” Anton shook his head. “This is the furthest north I’ve ever been. And I don’t have any siblings.”

Anton half expected there to be a distorted memory but there was nothing. Clearly he was an only child, or at least that’s what his memories told him.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright.” Anton raised his hand. “It’s been a difficult night. Do you have any more wounded? If you do we might be able to heal them.”

“You…” The man frowned. “You’re not going to demand money from us, are you?”

“No.” Anton smiled. “It’s good practice for us too. And I don’t like seeing people suffering in pain.”

The couple glanced again to the burnt assailant but said nothing. It didn’t matter to them if Anton’s words were lies, only that they had helped and were willing to help again.

“I’ll gather everyone your masked friend didn’t get to.” The woman began to back away. “Anything you can do to help them is greatly appreciated.”

The couple speedily ran off and began organizing the survivors.

“Do they know?” Verona asked.

“No. But they thought someone in their caravan was me. That’s what started this whole mess.”

“Poor people,” Cetina said softly. “So what now?”

Anton clapped his hands together. “Heal them. When that’s done we’ll ride hard, alternating riders while some rest in Atros. We can’t just leave one of the portal sets here. We’ll head to the Seocurian border. Since we don’t look like Seocurians, and we’d stand out there, they might think we’ll go somewhere else. Since they think we’re allied with Cassius then we’ll head south, maybe west, but probably not north.”

“But they are here.” Kal pointed to the bodies. “And this will be the only group that doesn’t come back.”

“It’ll take a day or two before they realise.” Anton shrugged. “And it sounds like it was a stab in the dark, a desperate attempt to find us when we slipped away. Next chance we get we’ll give Cassius the information we found.” Anton folded his arms. “Might just make his day.”

Verona patted the twin’s shoulders. “Well done, you two. Very well done.”

“Thanks.” Sheso laughed. “It’s our first real fight. I think we did okay. A lot to learn.”

“You aren’t dead,” Cetina smirked. “And that’s what matters most.”

“The sooner we’re done with this the better.” Anton tapped Kal’s shoulder and motioned her to follow. “We shouldn’t risk even more of these assailants chasing after us. What...What a day, huh?”

Volume 05 - Chapter 37 - Resolute

Anton staggered through the portal back into Atros. Already the morning rays were shining through the tiny gaps in the portal building. This world's sun travelled west to east it was morning earlier in Atros than it was in Graterious. Anton rubbed his temple, he was that tired and delirious he was focusing on truly trivial things.

“This way.” A gentle voice beckoned him forward. Kal, with her mask hanging from the side of her head, held his hand and pulled him forward. “Do we need to go back through?”

“No.” Anton smiled faintly, doubly so when the portal flashed and Verona and Cetina stepped through. “We’ve reached the Seocurian border. No one followed us, no pursuers, so...So I think we’re fine. They don’t have an infinite number of people they can send and, hopefully, they’ll think we’ve gone the wrong way.”

“Thank the gods.” Verona held Anton’s free arm. “I’ve never been so tired...Well, that’s not true. When those Kobolds attacked Atros...That was pretty tiring.”

“When was that?” Cetina vigorously rubbed her eyepatch, pushing it hard enough to scratch her damaged eye underneath. She still had to take it off at night, to allow the skin to breathe and so she could clean it, but today she had no such chance.

“Well before we met you,” Anton said. “Just after Kal turned up, actually.”

“Not a great time…” Verona yawned, allowing her jaw to open as far as it could. “Where are the twins?”

Kal pointed to the corner of the room. Calo and Sheso sat nestled in the corner, leaning against each other and sleeping softly. Their mouths were slightly agape, Calo's head slumped against her chest, Sheso’s leaning heavily against her sister’s shoulder.

“They’ve been like that for some time.” Kal chuckled. “I had to tell them quite a few times that they needed to get some sleep. They wanted to be ready to help if you needed it. Can’t do that if they’re barely holding their eyes open.”

Kal smiled. “Probably the first time they’ve had to be awake for almost a day straight.”

“They’ll have to get used to it if they’re going to be warriors.” Anton mused. He squeezed Cetina’s arm as she passed, she flashed him a smile. “But the portal’s safe. So too are the horses.”

“The stable owners were shocked at how tired they were.” Cetina leant against the wall near the door. “But they’ll be looked after. And the warehouse owner has been paid extremely well.”

Kal slowly nodded. “We might be able to launch raids into Seocuria from there. The more places the better.”

“At least…” Verona yawned. “At least they’ll be guessing for a long time...Sorry. I really need to sleep.”

“All of you should head back.” Anton kissed Verona’s forehead. “Go get some rest. That means you too, Cetina.”

“I should still go with you.” Cetina stepped towards him. “As your bodyguard, even in your own city. Last time we thought we were safe you almost died.”

“Alright. But you need to get sleep too.” Anton kissed Kal. “It’s been rough enough on you. Not to mention on your stomach.”

He gently rubbed their stomachs.

“Mezot will be a great companion on your journeys.” Verona kissed Anton’s hand. “When we’re stuck in Atros.”

Kal tapped Cetina’s chest. “If you aren’t careful you’ll end up pregnant before we’ve had our children. You seem to be doing your best to get pregnant.”

Cetina shrugged, there was a faint redness to her cheeks. “Wouldn’t be my fault. Anton doesn’t exactly try not to…”

Verona laughed. “It takes two…” She glanced around to see the twins slowly stir. “Sorry if we woke you two. We’re talking about some adult stuff.”

“We’re adults too.” Calo stifled a yawn. “You know? But is everything good over there?”

“All good,” Anton said. “You should go home and get some rest. At least until sometime tomorrow. You’ve done a tremendous job riding through the night.”

Calo tapped Sheso’s cheek, she snorted and fully awoke. “Right...We’ll see you all tomorrow then.”

The twins, lazily dragging their feet, gave a tiny wave before stumbling out of the door.

“Since they’re gone-”

Anton held a finger to Verona’s lips. “We’re not doing it here. Especially with so many people just outside.”

“We know how to be quiet.” Verona winked, Kal and Cetina rolled their eyes but Verona’s expression softened. “I know. Maybe just cuddling together would be nice, something different where we’re not left a panting, sweaty mess.”

“Please.” Kal shook her head.

“I do try.” Verona pouted. “But...Anyway…”

“I’ll check on Mezot and Axia.” Anton ruffled Verona’s hair. “Make sure they’re alright and have a chat to them about what we’re going to do in the future. All kidding aside, having a Principle Mage with us will be a great help.”

“And a pretty one at that too.” Verona winked. “Better than some decrepit man or ancient woman travelling with us, not that I’d let another man come with us.”

Cetina almost asked the question when she figured it out on her own.

“I’ll check in with Rasha too. See if anything happened.”

“Do you think she might have just slept through the night?” Kal raised a brow.

“I certainly hope not,” Cetina said sternly. “If one of my subordinates did something like that she’ll find herself running a hundred laps around Atros, or until she can’t move.”

“You’d honestly do that?” Verona almost smiled.

Cetina was serious. “Absolutely. I almost allowed Anton to die because I grew lapse in maintaining my vigilance. I won’t let it happen again.”

---[]---

Anton found Rasha asleep but not in the way Cetina feared. She lay slumped next to Mezot’s temporary home, right next to the door with her halberd nestled between her legs and against her neck. The other Atros guards said nothing, some were smiling, but none offered Anton any explanation.

“Hey.” Cetina was about to lightly tap Rasha’s leg when Anton held her shoulder.

“She’s probably been here all night.” Anton’s face softened. “Please...Please don’t be too hard on her. It was my fault as well for what happened in Qaiviel. Okay?”

Cetina sighed. “Sorry. We…” She rubbed her temple. “I really am too tired. How come you aren’t acting...Silly?”

“I should be asking you the same question.” Anton knelt by Rasha’s side. “I guess you’re just more used to it than me.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Anton tapped Rasha’s side. She didn’t move so Anton poked her cheek. It was surprisingly soft, given how strong the rest of her body was. Rasha began to stir, she grumbled something as she scrunched her eyes tight. When they opened Anton could see how tired she still was, her pupils were incredibly dilated and could barely hold her eyelids open. When she finally looked to Anton, for once they were at the same height, it took her a moment to realise who he was. When she did she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I haven’t been sleeping!” Rasha hauled herself up, loudly knocking her halberd away. “I swear. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. I...I was…”

Anton picked up her halberd, Rasha smiled faintly as he passed it over.

“This is the first job you’ve given me. So I wanted to do it right...I guess I got a little too enthusiastic.”

“It’s a little much to ask you to guard this place all by yourself.”

“I d-”

“Lean down for a moment.” Anton stepped back.

Rasha did as she was bid, leaning closer as Anton flicked her nose hard.

“W-What was that for?” Rasha rubbed her nose.

“I like your enthusiasm. I really do.” Anton shook his head. “I didn’t tell you to wait here, in the open and the cold…There’s no way I would ask you to do something like this by yourself.”

“Right.” Rasha cast her head down. However, given her height, it looked more like she was looking down on them. “Sorry.”

“Did anything happen?” Anton asked, deciding to press forward and not linger.

“No.” Rasha looked to the other guards. “Haven’t heard anything.” She leant on her halberd. “Is that bad? Is it bad that they’ve been quiet? Do you think they might have…” Rasha leant closer to Anton, looking at the closed door. “Tried to take the easy way out?”

“I certainly hope not.” Anton knocked on the door. “And not just because I’ve invested a lot of time and effort into them-”

“That sounds like Verona.” Cetina mused. Rasha understood and laughed softly.

“That...That it does.” Anton heard light footsteps from behind the door. “I wonder what she was like when she was a kid, if she was just as much of a rascal as she is now? But I don’t want anything to happen to Mezot or Axia-”

Axia smiled as she opened the door.

“-Because they’re my friends.”

“Hello.” Axia gently waved. She wore simple clothes, a light brown shirt and pants from Atros. She looked far more comfortable in these clothes than the robes of a student. “I thought I could hear talking. I was thinking about leaving but mother’s…”

“Still the same?”

Axia shook her head and pursed her lips. “She seems alright. I don’t think she’s really aware that she’s not going to go back to the Royal Academy.” Axia sighed. “Or even if she realises she’s gone. However! However, she is…” Axia smiled devilishly. “Well, there’s something that I know you’d like to see. More like she wants to show off.”

Axia laughed as she waved them in.

“The…” Rasha coughed. “Mezot wants to show something to Anton? Something that’s not related to magic?”

Axia continued to smirk. “Probably the first time I’ve seen her wanting to show someone something. Let alone a man.”

Cetina and Rasha shared a look but said nothing. Axia continued to wave the forward, a happy gait to her stride as she led them towards Mezot’s study at the rear.

“And how are you doing?” Anton asked softly. “You went through a lot more than Mezot.”

“I’m okay.” Axia stopped. “I managed to get some sleep.” She rubbed her hands, specifically the fingernails that had been torn off. “It doesn’t hurt now. But it still does. Knowing that those people are dead really helps.”

“That it does,” Anton said. Axia began walking. “But all of us are willing to listen, if you want to talk.”

Axia silently nodded and knocked on the door. “Mother? Are you there? Anton, Cetina and…”

“Rasha.”

“Rasha. The Blue Minotaur,” Axia glanced at Rasha’s chest. “At least that’s what I think she’s called.”

“Why does everyone always…” Rasha sighed, a faint smirk on her face as she shifted her weight onto her hip.

“Because people are always in awe of it all,” Anton said softly enough for only Axia to hear. She stifled a giggle, Rasha frowned knowing she was deliberately left out.

“It’s open.” Mezot’s muffled voice came from behind the door.

Axia groaned, rolled her eyes and opened the door. Mezot’s room wasn’t as messy as Anton feared. It wasn’t good but it had improved from the other night: the papers had been stacked neatly, the books organised based on their topic and her staff placed neatly beside her table, not just wherever she allowed it to drop. Mezot sat at the desk, pouring over a book with a light blue cover, a book on Ice Magic.

“I’m almost at a point…” Mezot’s head shot up. She found a small dull rock, a simple paperweight, and placed it on the book. “I should not be so rude when I have guests.”

“Did you manage to sleep well?” Anton asked. “Axia seemed to do alright.”

“I slept quite well.” Mezot gently pushed her chair out. “And...My bed is better than it was in the Royal Academy.”

“How bad was it?” Rasha asked softly.

“It was the most expensive I could afford.” Mezot took her staff. “And most of the students had better bedding than me.”

“Can’t get far in there without family support.” Anton mused. “That alone would severely limit Graterious’s magical strength. They’d let someone as powerful as you fall through the cracks simply because you came from a fishing village.”

“I think I am still a noble.” Mezot stood up to face them. “In name only.”

Mezot wore a mixture of her Academy robes and clothing from Atros, specifically a thin fur coat hanging around her neck like a loose cloak. Their house did not have a fireplace, the only warmth came from their bodies. Axia seemed fine but she could have been wearing something underneath. She was a thin young woman in a very cold land.

“Don’t try and flaunt it here though.” Anton smiled. “No one here is anything more than a commoner. No noble families-”

“Aren’t you a noble?” Mezot asked flatly. “The soldiers outside listen to your word, even though you aren’t a commander. And you have two bodyguards that follow you everywhere…”

Mezot stared silently at Cetina and Rasha. The two, again, still didn’t know what to think of Mezot’s quirks. Anton was glad of his Earth education and sensibilities.

“I’m certainly not a noble.” Anton frowned lightly. “But it does concern me that I’ll invariably leave one behind. Just because of my position. Hopefully, it turns out for the best, where they look out for the people beneath them rather than just leech.” Anton waved his hand. “I’m rambling, you’ll get used to it.”

Mezot smiled, a weak smile for anyone else, but he knew what it meant. Only then did he realise that she was wearing something over her ear. It blended in very closely with her light blonde hair, she wore the golden ornament from the Royal Debut at the Graterian Imperial Palace. She noticed and turned to hide it.

“I like it,” Mezot spoke softer than normal. “I...I just do.”

“I don’t have a problem with it.” Anton smiled. “If anything I think it suits you.”

Mezot’s cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Cetina groaned and jabbed Rasha’s side.

“He’s doing that thing again,” Cetina said softly.

Rasha leant down to Cetina. “Is that what happened to you?”

Cetina said nothing, pointedly ignoring the question while Rasha pulled an unusual face. Anton wasn’t completely stupid, it was hard to not learn a thing or two when he was married to Verona and knew what Rasha was talking about. Thankfully Mezot did not but he was certain that Axia had an inkling, judging by the smirk on her face.

Anton coughed lightly, silencing any further tangential conversation.

“Just a shame that your hair hides it at the moment.” Anton’s words elicited a frown from Mezot. “When it was swept back it was pretty easy to see. Now...Not so much.”

Mezot immediately ran her hand through her hair. What little remained of the material she had used the previous day remained and partially set her hair back. However her hair was usually dead straight so it sat in random directions, like she was suffering from an impressive bout of static electricity. Everyone tried their best to hold back their laughter, especially Axia who held her mouth shut with trembling arms, but eventually it cracked. Mezot already knew and was furiously trying to flatten to hair even as her face turned beet red and she pursed her lips.

“It won’t go flat,” Mezot grumbled, turning away to try and hide her embarrassment. “Now it just looks like I’ve been struck by a student’s first attempt at using Lightning Magic.”

Anton’s face dropped slightly. “Did that happen when you were a student?”

Mezot’s face near-instantly drained of colour, her eyes became vacant and lost. “Yes. Multiple times.”

And this was probably when you were still with Amulik. Such a harsh place for someone like yourself.

“That…” Anton sighed. “That sort of behaviour won’t be tolerated here. And it’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What would that be?” The previous emotion had instantly evaporated, Mezot returned to her normal self.

“I need your help.” Anton looked for a chair. “Do you not have another chair? I’m rather tired from riding the whole night.”

“I only have the one,” Mezot said softly, idly flattening her hair back to her normal bob. “It was all I was provided with. I could buy more-”

“That’s kind of what we need to talk about.” Anton raised his hand. Axia frowned while Mezot looked a little confused. “Let’s head outside. The winter air will clear our thoughts, and it’s only the second time that you’ve been in Atros in the daytime.”

“They have built a large shelter on the inner southern wall,” Rasha said softly. “Some of the older guards didn’t like standing in the snow, so they’ve built a wooden shelter with a metal fire brazier underneath. Apparently it’s something some of the apprentice smiths worked on. Give them something practical to work on.”

Cetina threw her an odd look.

Rasha merely shrugged. “I wasn’t asleep the whole time. And the guards outside were bored.”

---[]---

“This is beautiful.” Axia stood on her toes to see clearly over the wall. “The air is so much nicer than Boreana.” She threw her nose into the air and sniffed deeply. “And there’s no smell either.”

“One of the things that I like about Atros.” Anton held his hand near the flaming brazier. “It’s a lovely place to live. So long as you don’t mind the Goblins.”

“I haven’t seen them up close.” Axia dropped down, turning and leaning against the wall. “Are they really that dangerous?”

“Not on their own,” Cetina said. “But there’s never just one.”

Axia nodded thoughtfully. Graterious was a well-developed country and the threat of monsters inside the capitol was essentially nil.

Unless they use the sewer systems. Then they could kidnap people and breed up to colossal numbers with no one being the wiser.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Mezot asked. She sat opposite Anton, with her feet very close to the flame and her large staff resting against the wall.

“Your future in Atros.” Anton saw both of their bodies tense. “Not like that. But I want you, Mezot, to head our Academy. To teach as many as you can."

"But not...You." Mezot said softly.

"No." Anton smiled bitterly. "No, I don't think I'll ever be able to use Principle Magic. No matter how great a teacher I may have." Anton looked to the glove covering the gem embedded in his hand. "Perhaps I could use Tethra's magic...Worth a try later."

Mezot became a little happier but Rasha grew confused. She whispered into her ear and explained what they had discovered, rather confirmed, about Anton's magic. Rasha pursed her lips just before she was about to say something.

"But I would still like to learn at least the fundamentals." Anton continued. "So I know what's going on and if I'm asking the impossible of a Mage. Also I might be able to apply some of my knowledge to Principle Magic. Come at things from a different angle, a different perspective. I might see something amiss that a Mage wouldn't even consider."

"I'd like that," Mezot said softly.

Anton slapped his thighs. "That being said, it might be in my interest to at least have a staff and charm like yours." Anton smiled. “People will think that I’m an acceptable mage when I use magic. Only a Principle Mage would know that I'm not using my Charm.”

"An actual Principle Mage would know instantly that something is wrong.” Mezot said softly." They would know your Charm isn't working...And..."

Mezot trailed off, unwilling to finish her thought.

“Regardless, I haven’t had the opportunity to purchase one.” Anton nodded at Mezot’s staff. “And I’m sure I’d be sold a forgery, not that it really matters to most people.”

"But," Anton's face hardened slightly. "The thing is, I cannot pay you in the manner you were before."

Mezot blinked but said nothing.

"Unlike the rest of the world, we don't use money." Anton overlooked the city. "At least for now. With the influx of Dark Elves and Dwarves we will need to soon but right now there is no such thing as pay."

"That would explain why I didn't see any markets," Axia said softly.

"It was quieter than the capital's streets," Mezot added. "No one shouting to buy some old fruit."

"None of that here." Anton smiled. "I am having to ask that you work, teach, for free, for the immediate future. Food and lodging are provided, so you don't need to worry about that."

"I don't eat very much." Mezot manoeuvred her feet closer to the fire.

Axia silently scoffed at the notion.

"Will I have to prepare the equipment and materials?" Mezot looked straight at Anton. "Every student will need their own Charm to use Principle magic, even at a basic level. I have mine, and Axia hers, but that's it."

"Mine's a Basic Charm too." Axia pointed to her smaller Charm. "So I can use just about any type of magic with it. But it will be a lot more powerful if I had a proper Fire-based Charm."

"Do you know how to make them?" Anton peered closely at Mezot's. "Doesn't look like it's something other than a smith could make. And a very skilled one at that."

Mezot's body trembled with excitement. She had the chance to talk about magic once more. However, she calmed herself with a long, deep breath, even flexing her fingers as she exhaled.

"I do know." Mezot looked at Axia's charm. "A Simple Charm is relatively easy to create and has large tolerances. Students have a tendency to damage them when they are learning and it's too expensive to give every student something like mine. Do you have a smith here?"

"We do. Human and Dwarves. I'll check with Jonathan and see what he says. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Mine was made by the Dwarves that live in the capital." Mezot proudly smiled at her charm. "I think it was very expensive. Far more expensive than the dress you bought me."

"Dress?" Rasha asked softly.

"It looks so good." Axia clapped happily. "I'm sure Anton picked it because it made her look incredible. I know a lot of people would have been looking her way."

"It was really hard for me to notice what else was going on."

Mezot remained blank-faced for several seconds. Her eyes widened as she understood, her ears turned red, she pursed her lips and looked away.

She's really not used to compliments like that. I'm not going to deny that it's fun to see her squirm.

Anton waited until Mezot calmed a little. "In all seriousness though, that is the situation that we find ourselves in. You can return to the Royal Academy but I cannot guarantee your safety. And, honestly, I'd prefer knowing that you two are safe."

Mezot bit on her lower lip. Axia caught her eye as she gave an exaggerated nod.

"I will stay in Atros and help you, Anton." Mezot smiled. "Please treat me well."

"That we shall." Anton looked to the sky and the clouds overhead. "I don't want you two to do anything too strenuous for the next couple of days. It's been quite-"

"Actually." Mezot interrupted Anton. Axia raised her brows and looked surprised and impressed that her mother would cut Anton off. "I would like to continue teaching. I've never had an attentive class and they were actually listening." Mezot laughed nervously. "I-I've never had that before. It felt incredible."

"We can do that. Certainly. But it won't be all day, every day. I want them to continue physical work."

Mezot tilted her head slightly.

"So they can keep their body and minds clear. We all need time off so that we can properly digest what has been taught and Principle Magic is certainly no exception. Also, they need to have the strength to defend themselves if they run out of mana."

"But that's why we have you." Mezot looked between Anton, Cetina and Rasha. "Mages are not to be left unguarded."

Cetina shifted her legs, the armour clinking softly. "But if someone tries to attack you they'll be in for a surprise when they realise a Mage can fight back."

Axia made a noise, she opened her mouth but no words came out. She frowned as she looked down in deep thought, a finger pressed tight to her lips.

"That's quite easy in an army..." Anton glanced at Cetina. "Or, it might not be. Cetina and I were almost killed by assassins in Qaiviel, during the Civil War. If Cetina had not constantly pressed her martial skills onto me I'd be dead."

Cetina sucked on her lips, gently nodding when Mezot and Axia sought her confirmation.

"Perhaps that is a good idea," Mezot said. "But I am not strong-"

"We can fix that," Cetina said proudly. "Anton's become a lot stronger now that he regularly exercises with me. And that's not every day, so it shouldn't take you long to gain some strength."

Mezot looked more than a little dubious but accepted the explanation all the same.

"Do you have the materials necessary to make Simple Charms?" Mezot asked, her voice flat as normal.

"I don't think so. We could purchase them, but I'd need a list."

Mezot looked for something to write on, even glancing underneath the table.

Cetina coughed lightly. "I thought you might want something like that."

She produced a single sheet of paper from a bag hanging from her hip along with a thin piece of wrapped charcoal.

"I know that I wouldn't be able to remember an entire list of exotic items."

Anton passed them to Mezot after silently thanking Cetina. Mezot almost snatched them from his hands and began to write furiously. Axia sighed and shook her head. A shiver travelled down her spine, she moved closer to the flaming brazier and put in another piece of wood.

"How do you feel about travelling to Frindal?" Anton asked. His question was thoroughly ignored as Mezot muttered inaudible words. Anton shared a glance with Axia, this was not unusual for Mezot.

Mezot eventually placed the charcoal down, a light click as it made contact with the wood. "I think that is everything. I could be wrong but I'm certain with this you could build a Simple Charm."

"What about those books?" Rasha asked. "Is there anything in those that would tell you how to make that metal thing?"

"It's a Charm." Mezot sternly said, even her brows furrowed. "The most important item a Principle Mage has."

"But is there anything in those books?"

"There will be," Mezot said flatly.

"Well, okay then." Rasha shrugged lightly. There was nothing to gain from furthering that conversation.

"I'll see if we can find these in Bebbezzar." Anton looked at the list. "Graterious is sort of off-limits to us, for the moment. And I don't want to give a single copper coin to the Seocurian Empire if I can help it."

"You should probably go to bed first." Cetina held his shoulder. "You might be fighting to stay awake but it won't do you any good."

“I’ll be fine.” Anton smiled. “Actually I feel pretty good. Considering.”

“Alright then…” Cetina sighed. “I just don’t want to have to carry you back to the portal.”

Mezot tapped the table. “Do-Do I get to keep this?”

Mezot held the small medal she had received when she had become a Master. It wasn’t much, just a small gold plated simple ornament, but to Mezot it was the culmination of years of suffering and hard work, desperately trying to push through her condition while raising her daughter. And, despite everything, she had finally made it, regardless of some minor assistance.

“Of course.”

Anton stood up and walked around the brazier. Mezot followed him with her eyes but her body remained perfectly still. Anton gently lifted the small piece of metal, he could not feel anything magical from it but it held far more worth than just its material.

“I think we’ll make this the symbol that someone’s graduated from the Atros Academy.” Anton let the medallion go. “Maybe a little bit different, I don’t want something as beautiful as this to be on just anyone. Something to let them know their hard work has paid off. I won’t forget the smile on your face when you received this.”

Mezot smiled as Cetina gently rolled her eye.

“We’ll be back very soon.” Anton tapped the scroll. “Just don’t go too overboard while we’re gone, okay? Rasha will stay with you so nothing happens.”

Rasha sighed. “One day I’ll be able to travel beyond Atros. That would be nice.”

---[]---

Anton wanted to lightly admonish Mezot for not following his words but he was far too tired to complain. He placed the large sack of basic materials for building a Simple Charm in the corner of Mezot’s impromptu lecture hall. The gently raining snow had no impact on Mezot nor the students. All listened intently as Mezot demonstrated her magic in a practical sense. It was all well and good to drum theory into their heads but it wouldn’t sink in without showing how it could be used, that they could use magic like her with enough time and practice.

“If only all schools did that.” Anton mused as he sat on a chair at the rear of the open classroom. “I think it would have helped.”

“What’s that?” Cetina carried two slightly smaller sacks over her shoulder. She had performed the haggling, Anton had underestimated just how tired he was and was in no state to argue with skilled merchants.

Anton suppressed a yawn. “Making things interesting for the students. Learning maths is hard and boring enough, but it’s really hard when they don’t see any benefit to it.” Anton nodded as Mezot created a small suspended icicle. Beside her, Axia created a small flame. She wasn’t asked by her mother but wanted to contribute. “Now they can see it. So they’ll work much harder.”

Movement caught Anton’s eye. Rasha stood to the side, looking rather nervous.

“I thought I told you to keep her from doing anything strenuous,” Anton said dryly.

Rasha merely shrugged. “She can be quite obstinate. And...She moves the moment you take your eyes off her. I had just finished moving something for her, turned to one of the other guards, and she was gone. Axia, thankfully, knew where she was going.”

“Was she at least heading in the right direction?” Anton smiled.

“Yes. But no one was going to be waiting for her.” Rasha sat in a chair behind Anton. “Then I found out that she told a guard to assemble her class...Was she like this before? She seemed so quiet and...You know…”

“I honestly have no idea.” Anton began to truly appreciate how tired his eyelids were. “But she means well. Even with her condition.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her while you two get some sleep.” Rasha smiled. “I’ve had plenty of rest.”

“I actually want her to try and explain the basics to me again.” Anton began to struggle to keep his eyes open as a great wave of tiredness washed over his body. “I don’t want everyone to know that I...Don’t know anything about Principle Magic...Might make…I got to talk to Cassius about…”

Anton didn’t finish his sentence as sleep overtook him.

---[]---

“Anton?” Cetina leant close, thinking that Anton had trailed off in one of his bouts of deep yet rambling thought. “What were you saying?”

Anton did not answer.

For a moment Cetina was worried until she poked his side. Anton refused to move or make a sound. His chin rested on his chest as he breathed slowly and calmly. Snowflakes began to build on his hair and even some on his nose. Though he never mentioned it he would always brush away the snow from his nose the moment it made contact, she hadn’t asked why he would find it so irritating when the rest of his hair would become wet and slick as the snow melted. Verona and Kal hadn’t mentioned it or it was so ubiquitous they no longer cared.

“Did…” Rasha leant back on her chair. The wood groaned under her weight. “Did he just fall asleep?”

“He was awake most of the night.” Cetina gently brushed the snow away from his nose. “Told me that he could easily deal with a group of attackers with his magic. And it would take too long to establish a portal. We are the only ones that could see in the dark well too.”

“That’s kind of true.” Rasha moved to the chair next to Cetina. “He and Verona are the only ones that can use such magic. Unless those Dark Elf twins can?”

“No.” Cetina shook her head. “No, but they’re learning to use swords and work in a team. I think they’ll be very strong, given time.”

Rasha looked towards Mezot as she continued to explain what she was creating. Mezot began creating smaller icicles and rotating them around one another. She was sure that Anton would want to see this but she didn't want to disturb his sleep.

"Are you having sex with him?"

Rasha's question came out of nowhere, it stunned Cetina for a few moments.

"Yes."

Rasha's ears drooped slightly. "I thought you were...I just wanted to know. That's all."

Cetina looked at Rasha through her eyepatch. Though Cetina was certainly not the best at reading body expressions she knew Rasha was not alright.

"No it's not." Cetina didn't turn to look at her, keeping her head facing the magical demonstration. "Otherwise you wouldn't have said it. I was certain you already knew."

Rasha removed her helmet, letting her bright red braided hair free and scratched the base of her horn.

"I...I don't know." Rasha shook her head. "I just...Felt really, really angry when I first thought you were. And I don't feel any better knowing the truth."

Cetina remained silent. Rasha wanted to speak her mind, though it was a little strange having Anton on her other side, softly snoring while they talked about him.

"I want to help him." Rasha held her head in her hands. "That's why I wanted to become his bodyguard. And then I'm left out constantly because of..." Rasha sat upright and waved over her body. "This."

"Anton doesn't have an issue with Beastkin. If anything I think he kind of likes them more than humans. Sometimes."

Rasha pursed her lips. "Sometimes...There are still times I wish I wasn't a Beastkin. At least I'd be able to see the world..."

Rasha fell silent. Cetina found it very strange that someone as strong as Rasha would be fumbling nearly every word.

I wasn't much better. If we hadn't fought, sparred, then Verona and Kal spied on us, then I might have backed out. I probably would have.

"Have you spoken to anyone else about your feelings?"

"No." Rasha took a deep breath. "Don't exactly have many people I can talk to, at the best of times."

Cetina again looked at Rasha through her eyepatch.

There's no way that Verona hasn't considered you. Kal mentioned it had something to do with loyalty but that might just be Verona trying to justify herself.

A faint smile crept up the corner of her lips. "Talk to him."

"What?" Rasha grabbed the edge of her seat. "I...I couldn't do that. There’s a difference between that and him seeing me toppless."

Cetina leant back. "Honestly, you're doing it right now."

"He's not awake." Rasha's shoulders dropped. "And I'm sure I'd mess it up."

"I thought I would too. But once you're speaking it kind of takes control of you." Cetina waved away a particularly large snowflake. "Talk to him tomorrow. Just explain yourself and everything will be fine. The worst is that he rejects your feelings but at least you know."

"But I haven't done anything with him." Rasha rubbed her legs. "You, Verona and Kal have been on adventures before anything happened, to Qaiviel, Graterious, even The Shadow Isles. And I'm stuck in Atros." Rasha's eyes narrowed on Mezot. "I can only escort him around Atros, which he honestly doesn't need, so I don't-"

"If you honestly think that's what's needed for Anton to..." Cetina shook her head. "Please just talk to him. It'll eat away at you if you don't."

Rasha held her head in her hands and stared at the ground. Her eyes flicked back and forth as an unending stream of thoughts conflicted with one another. Cetina wanted to help but Rasha should make the decision for herself and not feel that she was being forced. Slowly Rasha's face softened, she nodded softly and sat upright once more. She looked far more confident. Cetina merely hoped she would not come across too strong and take her time. There was only one chance for these things and she would hate herself if she fumbled it. Cetina could only hope.

Volume 05 - Chapter 38 - The Rough and Gentle Giant

“Nothing beats a hot breakfast after a long sleep. Could you pass me the steak?” Anton asked as he stood over the simple stove in the backyard of their house. “I’m ready for the next piece…Someone keeps-”

Anton gently slapped Verona’s hand away from the pile of cooked food. She pouted and held him by the stomach.

“Come on!” Verona bounced back and forth, rocking her head from side to side. “I’m so hungry. I’ve got a baby to feed.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Anton flicked her nose. “It’s going to be very small right now.” He gently rubbed her stomach. “It’s not the size of a baby yet. It’s still got to grow.”

Rasha stepped in front of the stove. She held an uncooked plate of potatoes, sliced and stuffed with cheese.

Verona stopped playing with Anton, her face fell flat. “Is this all you’re going to eat?”

“I like it.” Rasha looked a little embarrassed at her full plate. “Is…Is there something wrong with that?”

“Absolutely not.” Anton finally managed to get Verona to help and not eat the food immediately. “But as they say, variety is the spice of life.”

“Is that what you call it?” Verona sniggered. “Variety?”

Anton pinched her rear. Verona squealed dramatically and ran back to the table. Immediately she began to complain to Kal and Cetina, both of whom were in a deep discussion about something as Cetina gently stroked a sleeping Luna’s back. Kal listened for all of two seconds before she too pinched Verona’s rear. Verona ran to Cetina but Cetina did not want to play along. She offered a seat for Verona which she took.

“Anton?” Rasha’s hoof ground at the light smattering of snow on the ground. “What…What are you doing after this?”

“After this?” Anton tapped his tongs on the hot metal pan. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure. I’m going to check in with Mezot and Axia first…”

Anton noticed Rasha’s leg twitch when he mentioned Mezot, but not for Axia.

“But after that I don’t have much of an idea.” Anton shrugged. “Probably just talk with people. See what they need and what we could do to make their lives better. How about you?”

“Me?” Rasha’s hoof twisted back and forth.

“Yeah. You. You’ve still got relatively light clothes on. Even though it’s winter.” Anton smiled. “I don’t believe Irso when she says that you’re just a slab of meat.”

Rasha smiled back. “I do have a lot of muscle.” She raised one of her legs and rolled the edge of her pants up, revealing the thick dark blue coat underneath. “But this keeps me very warm. Really, I just need to keep my…Um. How to put it? My centre? Keep that warm and I’ll be fine.”

“If you want a thick jumper or something just say so.” Anton flipped the food. “It’s not a problem to ask the seamstresses. But they might need to take some measurements first.”

“Oh…” Rasha’s ears reddened slightly. “I am rather big. Aren’t I?”

Rasha gently waved her hand over her chest. Despite her age and their size they remained quite prominent. Anton pretended to be dumb and tilted his head.

“I mean you are tall. But what are you talking about?”

Rasha opened her mouth, not before clamping it shut a moment later. The redness spread further over her ears as she realised what he almost made her say aloud.

“I might actually want something like that.”

Anton removed the last pieces of meat. “Give those here. I’ll get them started.”

Rasha slid the cheesy potatoes onto the pan. The underside’s thin layer of butter began to sizzle and cook under the heat.

“It’s just a real shame though.”

“What is?” Rasha asked.

“That I can’t take you anywhere outside of Atros.” Anton sighed. “I’d love to show you the Bebbezzar coast, the Qaiviel grasslands and the mountains near Thessos. And…” Anton smiled bitterly. “And I can’t. You’re stuck here because Humans can be right assholes.”

“But they can also be incredibly kind.” Rasha smiled. “Far more kind than any Beast-kin.”

“Well thank you.” Anton raised his metal tongs. “I presume you were talking about me. There isn’t anyone else as kind as I am in Atros, is there?”

“I…” Rasha laughed. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Just me being silly.” Anton moved the potatoes around. “But I am free, if you wanted me for something.”

Rasha nodded. “When we’re walking. Oh…” She looked over him at Cetina. “Can…Can it just be me today? Cetina told me that she’s got something she wants to do.”

Oh? I haven’t heard anything like that. We’ll see what she has to say during breakfast.

“Sure. If Cetina’s busy then of course you’ll be coming with me.” Anton summoned a small Fire Bomb and held it over the cheese on the potatoes, melting and cooking it from the top and bottom. “You haven’t done something silly like you did last time.”

Rasha furiously shook her head. “No! I’ve learnt my lesson. What I did was…Probably the most stupid thing-”

Anton raised his hand. “Then it’s fine. I don’t want either of us to dwell on it.”

And I do not like remembering seeing her body so sick. Afterwards…

“And…” Rasha leant close. Anton moved the Fire Bomb away so Rasha’s front wasn’t burnt by the flames. “Thank you for not telling them.”

Anton nodded seriously. “I know when I should be discreet.” He glanced back at the expectant table. “Though, despite one of them being a little wild, none would speak ill of you. I’m not the only one that knows.”

“True…”

Rasha licked her lips at the sight before her. All of the potatoes were cooked perfectly, with a slight hint of browned cheese and the tiniest amount of black on the skin of the potatoes.

“Give me a hand and let’s give these things out-”

“I can’t eat meat.” Rasha said softly.

“…Yes. But there’s like ten of the things. You can stand not to have three. Besides, you do need to eat vegetables and fruit, not so much the fruit since they give you indigestion too. But you can spare a few.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?” Rasha scoffed but still looked down at her chest. “I can’t help it…”

“You’re not fat. You’re one of the strongest people I know, probably the strongest.” Rasha’s mood took a turn for the better. “Now. Let’s give these starving girls something to eat.”

---[]---

After yesterday’s incident, Mezot had agreed to take the next day off and relax, only after massive insistence from Axia. Axia, apparently, had seen Anton fall asleep after delivering the materials that Mezot had wanted. She had yet to say anything to her mother but managed to convince her not to try and teach for a few days at the least. Mezot did not seem phased, quite the opposite really, as it now gave her the opportunity to study the books they had taken from The Royal Academy in far greater detail. It wasn’t exactly what they had wanted but it was a victory and it would have to do.

Anton gave a final wave to Axia as she shut and locked the door. As he stepped away he caught the six guards, still protecting Mezot and Axia’s house. They probably weren’t necessary any more but they didn’t appear to mind the easy job.

“That was easy.” Anton smiled. He began to walk towards the outer wall. “For Mezot, at any rate.”

“She is a strange woman...But I don’t think she means it. If that makes any sense.”

“She has a mental condition.” Anton said. “One which made her an outcast and something to be scorned. The people of the Academy only took notice of her once she became better. They were more than willing to let an extraordinarily powerful Principle Mage leave their midst just because she was difficult to talk with. And it wasn’t that bad either. They just needed to put in some effort…” Anton shook his head. “Sorry. Some of my prejudices from Earth were coming through there. Did you say that you wanted me for something?”

Rasha looked forward and did not speak for some time. Anton waited for her, letting the clacking of her hard hooves on the stone ground fill the silence.

Rasha finally slowed and gripped her halberd tight. “Why do you have a Harem?”

“Why?...” Anton slowed himself. “That’s a good question.”

Right. Come on. Don’t be completely stupid. You know where this is going.

“I…” Anton scratched his head. “Do you mind if I try and explain it the long way?”

“No.” Rasha’s voice was very soft.

“Well. It started with Verona, of course. It started off normal between us. For a little while at least. Then came along Kal.” Anton took a deep breath. “And...We liked each other. Quite a lot . But Kal wasn’t about to take the first step, the person that you know now is far more confident than the half-starved and cloth wearing vagabond that appeared at Atros’s walls, and I was already with Verona. You see, in my old world, generally people, Humans, are monogamous. Only one partner.”

“It seems to be the same here.”

“True. But if I were to have Verona and Kal on Earth, and it was public knowledge, there would be a lot of weird looks and things said about us.” Anton shrugged. “Not that they aren’t here, but that’s not the point. Verona said, and I kind of agree with her, that you shouldn’t just lock your feelings away. So one thing led to another and then I’m with both of them.”

Rasha frowned. “So Verona forced it upon you?”

“Well…” Anton glumly nodded. “I suppose you could say it like that. But without Verona’s actions I wouldn’t have Kal or Cetina. And I’m not going to change that nor do I regret it. Sometimes...Sometimes we all need a little push. And that’s what Verona does. A lot.” Anton smiled. “Sometimes too much.”

“Despite being so small she…” Rasha scratched the base of her horn. “And Cetina?”

“Cetina is a little bit different.” Anton offered to lead them towards the outer wall, which Rasha accepted. “We formed a bond, I suppose you could call it, as we fought across Qaiviel. Especially when we almost died at the hands of assassins. Cetina...She didn’t like to see me when I’m at my most...Wild.”

He looked at Rasha. “And I don’t mean in a good way. When...It’s actually rather embarrassing to think about. In the moment it feels right and good but afterwards...Not so much.”

“Did Verona have anything to do with it?” Rasha looked straight ahead. Anton presumed she was watching him through her peripheries but he couldn’t be certain.

“No. Nothing more than a little push. Cetina and I sparred, she then asked outright and I said yes.” Anton coughed. “I also told myself to take command of my Harem, and not just let Verona run things.”

“I see…I see...” Rasha gripped her free hand tight. “But it’s always after something big. Right?”

“Something?”

Rasha actually started to look angry. “Verona, defending Atros. Kal, defeating the Orcs and Clansmen. Cetina, defending Qaiviel and you.” Rasha’s ears dropped low. “And then there are those that can’t go anywhere but here…Stuck in mundane...Just to talk to you alone I had to…” Rasha shook her head and kept it cast down. “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”

Again the silence fell upon them. Those passing by had no idea what they were discussing, merely thinking Anton was taking a walk with one of his bodyguards.

“Rasha? Come with me for a moment.”

Anton took Rasha’s hand and led her into a narrow alleyway. It was wide enough for them to enter but it took a sharp turn just a few paces in, obscuring them from view. Anton let her hand go and looked her in the eye. Rasha’s breathing had increased. She even held onto the wall behind her for support.

I may be an idiot but I’m not that stupid. I like her...Why shouldn’t we both be able to enjoy ourselves because of my ‘prejudices’?

“Rasha. I admit, it is much easier to forge bonds with someone in the heat of battle or in the midst of an adventure through foreign lands, where your lives are on the line and the only thing you have is each other. But I do notice other things. Things like offering to go into a land where she might be killed for who she is just to help me without hesitation. Doing everything she can to help me and my city, even if she thinks it’s nothing and it’s not noticed. But I notice.”

Rasha’s hand tightened on the wall.

“And…Maybe it’s me that’s the coward and fool. Waiting for others to make the first move even though I have promised that I would be the one to act. It seems that Earth’s customs still affect me.”

Anton took a deep breath.

“But I do notice what’s happening around me. And I know what sort of person you are. A gentle giant. Who helped humans of the same ethnicity as her enslavers without batting an eye. Someone who was willing to hide something unbelievably painful,” Anton jabbed Rasha’s hand. “And dangerous just so I wouldn’t worry. Even though it could have put her life at risk.”

“I…”

“Rasha?” Anton reached out and held Rasha’s other hand. The halberd clinked against the wooden wall.

"I like you, very much. I love having you by my side and, although you probably don't think I do, I take everything you say very seriously..." Anton coughed and tapped his foot once. "Rasha? Will you join my harem? Will you become mine and mine alone for all eternity?”

"Yes." Rasha's voice was little more than a whisper.

That was a little...I actually thought I was going to mess it up. How does one ask someone to join...Best not to think about it too much.

Anton tugged on Rasha's hand and pulled her down. The giant Blue Minotaur's legs shook as she knelt so their faces were almost level.

"We still have much to do before tonight." Anton cupped Rasha's cheeks. Her body lost its strength and melted into his. "And I need to tell the others what's happening. But..."

"But what?"

"But there is something that I can do right now."

"What-"

Anton did not let her speak further and kissed her. Rasha's lips and tongue were just like the rest of her, warm and unbelievably strong. Despite her strength and size it was surprisingly easy to subdue her. After but a few seconds Rasha began to whimper and allow Anton to do whatever he wanted, trying her best to mimic and follow his lead.

When Anton pulled away Rasha's hands gripped his tight. Her flushed lips and heavy breaths told him she had enjoyed every moment.

"Is that what they have every night?" Rasha wiped her lips with the back of her hand, still holding onto Anton's with the other.

"A lot more than that." Anton kissed her hand. "But I wanted to go easy on you. I-"

"That was easy?" Rasha's thin tail swung back and forth.

Anton scratched one of Rasha's long cow-like ears between his fingers. Her shoulders dropped and her head tilted towards his hand.

"I don't want to overdo it before tonight. We'll have all the time we could possibly want, and this is not something to rush but to be enjoyed. I want to savour the moment, and you."

"You aren't worried?" Rasha straightened her head. "I am...A lot larger than you."

"Not at all. We'll work through any kind of issues we might have with compatibility. I promise you that."

Rasha smiled sweetly. "I...Will do my best, Anton. I am not knowledgeable about these things but I-"

Anton leant forward to kiss her forehead. Her large orange horn got in the way so he kissed the base. Rasha let out a pleasing moan, followed by a groan of embarrassment.

"I think I've just found my first weak point." Anton chuckled. "But before we go anything further we still have a whole day ahead of us."

"Right." Rasha stood up but continued to hold his hand. Anton began to smile, to which she smiled back but did not understand why.

"This just reminds me of something." Anton said. "Something I saw in Graterious. We're...We're about the same difference in size too."

"I really don't know what you're talking about..." Rasha could only smile.

Anton stopped just before exiting the alleyway. "Can you scoot down for a second?"

Rasha leant down, Anton kissed then nipped her ear. Rasha shot up, held her ear while her face continued to stay flushed.

"Wha-"

"I’m loving just how easy you are to tease." Anton winked and ushered her forward. "I'm not the sort of person that just let's someone I love go."

Rasha hid her face behind her helmet and refused to enter the street. It was probably for the best, a large group of Beastkin were walking towards a day's labour in the fields. Had they seen them exit, with Rasha in the state she was, they would have become an interesting conversation piece.

That reminds me, no word about the purist Beastkin. Hopefully they've calmed down. Something tells me they haven't.

"Are you calm yet?" Anton asked when the group had passed.

"That..." Rasha removed her hand, the flush had faded to leave her normal blue complexion. "That was really mean of you."

Anton shrugged, pretending to not understand. "You didn't seem to mind."

Rasha did not deny it as she stepped into the street. "Where to?"

Anton pointed north. "Dark Elves. Then the Dwarves, then anyone else. Then back home to inform people what just happened. Actually, we need to send a message to Cassius first. Everything that we know, about what happened and if he can figure anything out."

Rasha nodded and joined him as they walked towards the centre of Atros, where all of their communication pens lay. She walked closer than normal, a small smile permanently etched onto her face as her short, thin tail happily swung back and forth.

---[]---

“I’m a little saddened.” Anton mumbled as they walked towards where the Dark Elves were living. “But not entirely surprised.”

“I still can’t read…” Rasha said softly.

“Cassius is saddened to hear what happened, offers his sympathies and promises to deal with the seven character, but that’s all he can do.”

“Graterious is some distance away.”

“True.” Anton nodded as a group of Beast-kin and Human children ran past, laughing and playing with reckless abandon for the snow raining down upon them. With rosy cheeks from the cold they streamed past, barely paying them any attention. “But there is little else he can do. Apart from capturing that seven man and interrogating him. I don’t think it’s going to be a pleasant experience for him. He said he didn’t know anything about the royal lineage records…I don’t know if he’s lying or not.”

Anton rubbed his chin. “What do you think about a communication pen that tells us if the other person is lying? But once they figure it out they can just dictate the words and they wouldn’t know if they’re lying or not. Another conundrum, isn’t it?”

Rasha glumly nodded as they passed through another gate. The Dark Elf Quarters, as they were unofficially known, had grown considerably since they had last seen them. Houses now stood instead of tents, all built with Dark Elven flair, while the roads were beginning to be paved. There were no markets or stalls along the roads, though Anton noticed there were many areas reserved for them, so it was rather quiet.

"Lord Anton!" A young male Dark Elf cried out through the crowd, waving his hand over his head. "Excuse me!"

Anton stopped. Rasha, though still riding a not inconsiderable high, quickly assumed a fighting stance and began to search the crowd for any potential hostiles.

Cetina has taught you well.

"Yes?" Anton silently readied his own magic, keeping it bubbling just beneath the surface. "Who are you?"

The young Dark Elf stopped a few meters before Rasha. He looked to be barely in his twenties but Dark Elves physiology was deceptive. He could easily have lived thirty or forty years, possibly even more if he took care of himself. Around his neck he wore the bright green tassel of the Green Moon Clan. Despite living in Atros they, and all of the other Island Clans, continued their traditions and maintained their clan lines, not that Anton had an issue with it so long as it did not cause stability issues.

"My Lord, Chief Leran wishes to speak with you." He took a deep breath. "He wishes to know the state of our vessels in our hidden fortress. They could not be retrieved as we escaped."

"Ah yes." Anton nodded. "I remember those sleek things...I wonder if they've cleaned the blood off them yet."

"Blood?" The Dark Elf stepped forward. "Was there another battle inside the fortress?"

"There was. Hopefully Gerin remembers that those are our ships, even if the fortress no longer holds value." Anton looked to the houses. "Where are the Green Moon housed? Normally I meet Calo and Sheso near the Main Hall." He smiled at Rasha. "Soon we'll be living in that Sovereign Palace monstrosity. Though I won't deny that it will serve its purpose well."

"So long as the doors are ceiling are high enough for me." Rasha tapped the top of her orange horn. "I don't want to chip this."

"We'll check when we get to the Dwarves." Anton looked back to the patiently waiting Dark Elf. "So where are they?"

"Closest to the inner wall, Lord Anton. Our clan and the others..." He winced slightly. "We don't get along well."

"Here's hoping that we can put the past behind us." Anton grimaced. "Perhaps this time we will."

The young Dark Elf fell beside Anton. He tried his best to engage in small talk, about how the Dark Elves were settling into Atros, how and what they were contributing and what Anton's general plans for the future were. It was somewhat refreshing, even though he might have been probing for information, except he looked worryingly at Rasha, specifically her forearms, which were thicker than his waist.

“Here we are.” The young Dark Elf said triumphantly.

He pointed to a slightly larger building amongst the houses. The signifier of the Green Moon Clan hung proudly above the door. Outside, in a large enclosure, several Green Moon Dark Elves loitered, idly chatting while others checked their weapons and clothes. A few were even teaching children, children for Dark Elves, how to use and maintain weapons. Anton couldn’t see Calo or Sheso.

“Hope they’ve recovered from yesterday.” Anton mused as they passed through the small gate.

“They?” Rasha asked.

“Calo and Sheso. They stayed with us the entire time we were fleeing through Graterious. It took a fair bit out of them.”

“But you stayed up all night.” Rasha mumbled.

“True...It doesn’t seem as hard when I’m the one doing it though. Strange, isn’t it?”

Rasha didn’t answer as they walked through the enclosure. Many of the Dark Elves stopped to look, it was impossible to miss Rasha’s imposing figure and most knew Anton’s face, even if they’d only seen him in passing when they were evacuating their island. A few threw cautious waves, which Anton returned, as they reached the door.

A Dark Elf opened the door and ushered them inside. Rasha grumbled as she stooped low through the door. Anton was more than a little surprised when he entered a type of lodge. The main room was very large and open, a small fire crackled in the centre, surrounded by thick stones and a large metal chimney to draw away the smoke. Simple lounges and chairs lay in small clusters around tables. In them sat the Dark Elves. They did not wear their thick garb, like those outside, but the type of clothes that the Dark Elves had worn when they were celebrating the end of the Goblin attacks. The men wore loose shirts, leaving a good portion of their hairless and well-toned chests visible, the women tight shirts with a very high skirt with a slit down both sides. Anton kept his eyes up but it was hard not to be drawn to some very beautiful and well-toned legs.

Guess I have a thing for toned legs. Not that that’s a bad thing.

“He’s back here,” The young Dark Elf led them through the he was trying his best not to glance at the bodies on display, but it was already a lost cause.

He is a young healthy...How young actually is he?

Rasha could almost stand upright. She grumbled and bit her lips as she continued to stoop low. Those relaxing quickly took notice and began to whisper amongst themselves. Rasha wasn't sure if she liked the attention or not. To them she probably looked like she had a hunched-back and wasn't a tall and proud Minotaur.

Though once they see you fight that will definitely disappear.

"Hello." The young Dark Elf knocked on a large door at the end of the room. "I've found Lord Anton and brought him here."

The door clicked open. An unfamiliar woman poked her head through. She smiled faintly at Anton, didn't know what to make of Rasha, and opened the door. A smaller recreation of the lodge lay inside, containing faces that Anton did recognise. Most were those Dark Elves that served under Leran, those that had remained close to him when Anton arrived at their hidden fortress, along with a number of faces he didn't. At the far side, just before the crackling fire, Anton saw Leran and Cagec playing with children. Calo and Sheso sat nearby, warming their backs on the flame as they feathered a pile of fresh arrows. They too did not wear the garb Anton was used to seeing them in, they wore clothes remarkably similar to what the adult women wore.

Remember, they're a lot older than they look. They might look like they've just turned eighteen but they're probably older than Kal...chronologically, not necessarily mentally.

While they wore the shirt with the long slit down the middle they at least wore pants, short pants that barely reached their upper thighs but considerably more than what most wore.

Leran stopped and looked at their guests, the Dark Elf children cried and protested loudly they were no longer receiving undivided attention, and smiled at Anton.

"Come in." Leran beckoned them closer. "Come in. Please. I haven't seen you for quite some time."

"No...Is your choice of clothing appropriate for the cold?" Anton asked as he stepped forward. "Seems a little thin. Don't you think?"

Cagec wore as little as the other men. Leran, being one of the oldest Green Moon Dark Elves did wear more. As long as a moderately thick undershirt counted.

"Tothror. Thank you for finding him so quickly." Cagec's knees clicked as he stood up. "You can go back to whatever you were doing before. Oh, and tell your mother I said hello."

Tothror gave a rough salute and scurried from the room.

"Good kid." Cagec said with a smile. "He'll grow up to be a good man, just like his father."

Anton did not understand his smile. Was there a hidden meaning to his words, that he was actually the father? Anton decided not to inquire further.

"I'm sure." Anton smiled at the twins. They had long since stopped working but were waiting for a chance to speak. "How are you two doing?"

"Great." Calo stretched out her back, pushing her front out and allowing her shirt to ride up slightly. "Really good."

Normally their clothes were quite baggy and soft, designed to muffle sound and obscure their body from attackers. It was the first time he'd seen them without. They were as lithe and as slim as he suspected, they would beat Mezot in the chest department but only barely, but they had a decent amount of muscle for their body type. Given that Cetina had easily beaten both and they had been training vigorously since, it was fair to assume they were recent changes.

"Sitting all day isn't so great." Calo scratched her stomach. "Hurts your back after a while."

"You get used to it." Sheso smiled. "It's not so noticeable when you're working on something."

She nodded to the piles of fletched arrows to her side. All were made from the black and red marbled wood from The Shadow Isles.

"Is our wood no good?" Anton asked. The twins tilted their heads together. "Isn't this wood kind of valuable since you aren't in The Shadow Isles anymore?"

"I suppose you could think of it that way." Cagec nodded to the walls of the lodge, made from the same material. "Those trees can't grow here, but they are much stronger and retain heat a lot better." Cagec pulled on his shirt. "Otherwise there'd be no way we could dress like this."

"I'll talk to the Dwarves, see if an idea I'm having will work." Anton nodded to the door. "Tothror said you wanted to speak with me."

"We do." Leran rose and stood by his father.

The children now became truly incensed they were being ignored, hopped onto their unsteady feet and waddled towards their legs. Calo and Sheso tried to corral them back to themselves but it was only somewhat successful. Leran leant down and pointed the children at the twins. They happily waddled over to Calo and Sheso and began to play with the other children.

"Their parents need some time to themselves." Leran smile slowly faded. "But we would like to discuss our ships."

"We still have yet to reclaim Jaka. It's not really been a high priority, given the sheer distance and our lack of need for ships. Eventually we will reclaim it but not for now."

"Well," Leran looked at Cagec. "We have overheard, from those still coming and going to The Shadow Isles, that our fortress is repaired and everything is functioning once more. That means the gates that were broken are now fixed."

"And those sleek vessels could now be in the hands of the other Island Clans?"

Leran scoffed. "Better them than those from the Mainland. But yes. We would like our ships back."

"We agreed that the fortress and land was now there's to do with what they will." Anton nodded. "But not the ships. I'll head through the portal and see what Gerin has to say. He should be a little more compliant..."

At least it didn't devolve into something like Qaiviel.

"Thank you-"

"We'll come." Sheso leapt to her feet. "Just give us a moment to get changed."

Neither Cagec nor Leran offered any objections as the two scampered from the room. Anton doubted they were about to run outside, into the cold snowy ground, in their current attire.

"How are they doing?" Cagec asked.

The children clamped onto his legs. They smiled at Anton but looked in awe at Rasha. In height, and bust, she was like a goddess to them.

"They're doing very well." Anton replied. "Both on and off the battlefield. We've done our best to avoid fights where possible but the few we have they have done well."

"That's excellent to hear." Cagec clapped his hands. "I’ve been hearing stories of what they’ve done with you but I always want to hear it from another source.”

And here I thought you might have been asking if they’ve offered themselves to me yet...Would I take it? The idea of twins is very interesting-

Anton glanced at Rasha. She frowned slightly but said nothing. He was glad he could not hear his thoughts, especially after what had just transpired between them just a few minutes ago.

“And this is Rasha?” Cagec raised a brow. “She is just as impressive as they said. Very impressive. How strong are you, my dear?”

“Um…” Rasha lifted a chair with one arm, barely taking any effort. “Like this?”

Leran and Cagec whistled, sharing a look and nodding slowly.

That reminds me. If I’m not careful I might have my back broken. Though...For some reason that riskiness is a little exciting.

“Speaking of, Rasha. It’s probably a good idea to bring Cetina with us. Even though we are friendly lands, probably, it’s not a good idea for me to travel with just one bodyguard. You never know when someone’s going to attack you.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” Leran began to smirk. “Though I do find it odd that the leader of Atros is surrounding himself with beautiful women. Is that why you made this place?” Leran could no longer hold back his smile, even Cagec began to smile. “So you could cultivate them?”

“No. But I won’t deny that I’m surrounded by beauti-”

The door opened before Anton could finish his words, much to Rasha’s immediately relief, and Calo and Sheso stepped through. Though it had been less than a minute the two were perfectly dressed and ready. He noticed a slight flush to their dark skin, a redness to their cheeks and lips.

“You two are very quick. If that’s everything then we’ll get going.” Anton turned to Leran. “If we can get your ships under our control we’ll send a message back. Make sure you have some sailors ready...Do the other Island Clans have anything to do with this?”

“No.” Leran shook his head. Slowly his face softened. “But here, in these foreign lands, we are starting to get along better. We’re talking to one another now. It’s not much...But I’m liking to be able to talk to the other clans, and not have them think that we’re about to rob them.”

“Take everything one step at a time.” Anton smiled. “Just like us Humans and the Beast-kin.” Anton smiled at Rasha. “You never know what might happen.”

---[]---

The moment Anton took a breath of the air of The Shadow Isles he felt surprisingly calm. Despite the winter cold in Atros, The Shadow Isles were still quite warm and covered in a thin mist.

“Feel’s strange to be back here.” Anton stepped forward. “Especially when we’re not needed.”

“What are you saying?” Calo asked.

She and her sister stood before him in the small room. It was not furnished in any sense. It was merely a room to hold the portal. Both rested their hands on the hilts of their sword, something they had learnt from Cetina, and pulled their hoods back. They looked over Anton’s shoulder, waiting for a further two flashes but they were not coming.

“Something wrong over there?” Sheso asked. “Has the portal stopped?”

“I don’t think so.” Anton shrugged lightly. “I think they’re just having a quick chat-”

“About what?” Calo frowned at her sister. “I know that…” Calo covered her mouth for a moment. “I know that The Shadow Isles aren’t in any danger but that doesn’t mean that they should just leave you here.”

“I have you two.” Anton tapped his head, removing the last of the lingering headache. “So that should be enough.”

“Maybe against one warrior.” Calo said softly.

“We still don’t know how to use a bow well.” Sheso added. “We are supposed to be learning tomorrow.” Sheso cracked a smile. “At least we’ve got the strength now to properly use a bow. If it weren’t for you and Cetina we’d have really struggled.”

The portal finally flashed. Cetina and Rasha stepped through, both wearing a full suit of armour. They shared a final word, Cetina patted her back, and they slowly walked towards him.

“Sorry about that.” Cetina said softly

Rasha’s ears flicked back but she did not answer. Anton was not surprised they had spoken, in a sense they would be sharing beds, or at the very least him.

“Let’s go.” Anton waved them forward. “This will be your first time to The Shadow Isles.”

“I’ve heard a lot about this place.” Rasha readied her halberd. “It sounds like an interesting place.”

“It is.” Calo winked at Rasha. “At the very least it’s a lot darker than Atros.”

“I presume that’s how it got its name.” Rasha said softly.

The twins opened the door. They stepped out into a large open area, a staging area for Dark Elf warriors. Anton saw the markings of the Dusk Reavers, Wind Walkers and another two Clans that he did not recognise. Nearby guards descended upon them but quickly relaxed when they realised who they were and where they came from.

“I shall inform Gerin of your arrival.” A guard saluted and ran towards a large building in the distance.

“This is our island.” Sheso murmured. “They...They said they were going to use it for…”

“Training.” Anton continued. “For training and military purposes. Including a navy. So it’s probably a good bet that those ships have been moved.”

Sheso clicked her tongue. “Leran will be pissed if they’re gone.”

“Or if they don’t have our markings.” Calo made a strange sound.

Anton caught the attention of a nearby guard. “Excuse me. But whose markings do those two belong to? I don’t recognise them.”

“Sir.” The Dark Elf snapped to attention. “They belong to the Shadow Foxes and the Striking Eagles. They are Clans created after the Goblin menace was driven off from the survivors of the destroyed clans and those that wished to start a new life away from the other Island and Mainland Clans.”

“No further issues with the Goblins?”

“None, Sir. We can’t find any, no matter how hard we look.”

I still have a few Strohierite stones lurking around here. A good way to see if they can be reused or survive the transportation through...Wait. Wouldn’t that put me over the limit for Earth Mana? We need to find out how to build that Node already. Just need to find the parts…

“Definitely do not become complacent.” Anton softly sighed. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

The Dark Elf almost smiled as a large group hurriedly emerged from the large wooden building. Anton spied Gerin at the front. He had aged a few years during their parting. Trying to hold disparate Dark Elf Clans together through a string of half-truths and a loyal stooge to parrot his words as if they were the Mist Walker Elders was taxing to say the least. When he laid eyes on Anton the weight visibly lifted from his shoulders.

“I was surprised to hear that you were coming.” Gerin hurried across the open fields. “I would have met your personally...But I am having some very serious issues.”

“Issues?”

Gerin waited until he was close until he continued speaking. “Regarding the management of The Shadow Isles, from the Mist Walkers.”

“I see.” Anton slowly nodded. “You’re having troubles…”

“Yes.” Gerin finally noticed Rasha. His eyes widened as he fully took in just how tall she was. “A Minotaur? But blue...You had a Half-Breed Beast-kin with you last time. And I see that you have...Cetina still with you.”

“I’m surprised that you remembered my name.” Cetina said. “I wasn’t involved with much of the fighting on The Shadow Isles. I really only turned up to the celebration.”

“It pays to keep informed.” Gerin’s eyes fell on Calo and Sheso. “Green Moon too. That’s not as surprising. Now, all of you please, come inside. I need your help.”

Gerin began to walk away before they could answer.

Calo pulled on Anton’s sleeve. “Are we going to get the ships?”

“We will.” Anton gently patted her head. “But it looks like something’s eating him. We help him and then he’ll be predisposed to help us. But if we’re rude and pushy he might just become really obstinate.”

“I see…”

They quickly crossed the fields towards the large wooden building. Anton did not know how the twins knew this was the Green Moon Island, he could not see anything unique about it but he trusted their intuition. There were times that Anton just knew where he was as well.

As they passed Anton watched the Dark Elves practicing and training relentlessly. Unlike human armies they were focused on speed and the accuracy of their bows, practicing how to strike with a bow with deadly precision then follow up with a flurry of dagger and sword strikes. None wielded two swords like Calo and Sheso had originally, instead one sword with a small buckler strapped to the other arm.

They’re great at hit and run, just like that book from The United Empire said they were, but wouldn’t last long in an open battle against an armoured foe. Then again, what foe could attack them in these lands?

The Shadow Isles were full of thick forests and rolling hills covered in heavy mists and fog. Even if an enemy did land in numbers it would be impossible to bring their full might to bare, especially with the Dark Elves constantly harassing them. It was no wonder the United Empire had such trouble in these lands and had to resort to allying themselves with the Island Clans.

The soldiers opened the door for Gerin but did not enter themselves. Anton gave a nod as he entered, a soldier tried to block passage for the others but quickly backed off when Anton cleared his throat.

Gerin flopped himself onto a large couch before a low, long table with a detailed map of The Shadow Isles laid out. Anton was glad to see no markers for Goblins, or any military force for that matter. The Shadow Isles were, for not at least, still at peace.

"I trust that your Green Moon friends won't say anything of our conversation?" Gerin motioned for Anton to sit next to him.

"No." Anton looked Calo and Sheso dead in the eye. "You won't, will you?"

And Leran already knows the Mist Walker thing is all a sham anyway.

"No." Calo said firmly. "We know how to keep a secret."

Anton waited until her sister agreed.

"I'll hold you two to that." Anton did not sit but leant close by the table. Cetina nudged Rasha forward, who thankfully did not have to crouch lest her horn scrape the roof.

"How have things been since we left?"

"Overall, pretty good." Gerin leant back into the couch, Anton heard the click of a bone as Gerin sighed in relief loudly. "I won't say things are perfect but they are improving dramatically. Commerce is now flowing through the entire Shadow Isles, even the mainland. And now they aren't getting so uppity about us having trade routes to Bebbezzar." He glanced at Cetina. "It's still a mess down there."

"I hope it will recover." Cetina smiled. "But I believe that Anton will have a hand in that."

"Are you proposing that I interfere with another civil war?" Anton smiled. "The last time things didn't work out so well, remember?"

"We're a lot stronger now." Cetina said firmly. "And I'm not going to let it happen to you again."

"Qaiviel, wasn't it?" Gerin asked. "They don't have any ports on their north border but we've heard things have changed. For the better, at least for now."

"Indeed. Things are going well for us. But what about you? You look like you've aged a few winters since we parted."

Gerin clicked his tongue. "It's Emecru. You weren't introduced but he was there at the victory celebration."

"The Mist Walker stooge?" Anton asked dryly.

"Yes..." Gerin leant forward. "He's starting to think that he actually runs things." He shook his head and bit his lower lip. "I should have stopped him the moment that he started doing things on his own, but I was focusing on other things and I stupidly didn’t act right away. At first it was only little innocuous stuff, I was too busy to go back there and bring him to heel, but now he's giving orders and directives that actually affect The Shadow Isles."

"And you would like for me to sit on him? Remind him where he actually stands in the order of things?"

"That would be much appreciated." Gerin smiled. "I was about to return to the Tower and set things straight myself, but having you and your friends present could certainly help matters." Gerin frowned. "How is that relic doing? You seemed very excited to get it."

"Extremely well. Extremely well. But in return for my help I would like control of the Green Moon's ships. The ones in their fortress? They belong to the Green Moon, who are now citizens of Atros."

“Those ships do not interest me.” Gerin said. “They are designed for raiding, nor for defence or for trading, like what we’re doing now. If you can help me deal with Emecru, I’ll more than happily let them go.”

They’re really ours. But having a destabilised Shadow Isles isn’t good for us either. And if we do return I’m not exactly going to be focusing much of running Atros now am I?

“Alright. We’ll help. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Right?”

“No.” Gerin nodded to Rasha. “If she were to just stand next to him that should be enough.”

“It’s a long way to the Mist Walkers.” Cetina said. “Are we going to ride those Jaguars?”

“What?” Rasha’s eyes flicked between everyone.

“No.” Gerin smiled. “Not exactly.”

---[]---

Anton found their ride more than a little odd. They did not have a horse drawn carriage, rather one pulled by a team of Jaguars. It was an odd experience but the ride was surprisingly comfortable. Before the roads of The Shadow Isles were poor at best but Gerin clearly had been putting time and effort into upgrading the network. Not only would it aid in military response time but the economy would benefit.

Rasha let out a startled gasp when she finally saw through the mist and the tower came into view. Even the twins were awed a little by its sheer size.

"I've never seen it before." Calo said. "We've heard about it, but..."

"I doubt anyone from the Green Moon would want to come here unless they really wanted to."

"What's making the purple light?" Sheso asked. "I've never seen something burn like that before."

"We never found out." Anton looked out the carriage to the top of the tower. The upper disks were hidden by the mist, only the bright purple light shone through. "We were far more interested in some of the relics they had. Those were very interesting. But I never asked. I believe the United Empire built this...monstrosity."

Anton frowned softly. "But I don't know to what end."

They continued in silence until the carriage came to a halt. Mist Walker guards quickly inspected their vehicles and let them through. The fields of tents and wounded soldiers were gone, many of those would now live normal lives thanks to Kal, now replaced with training fields and sparring soldiers. The carriage stopped once again, a Dark Elf opened the door and ushered them out.

Gerin effortlessly dismounted and walked towards them. "This is what I'm talking about."

"Seems to be a lot of Dark Elves training." Cetina said softly.

"It is."

Gerin sighed. “But there aren’t supposed to be this many. Even when considering that the mainland clans are more populated that ours. No. This is Emecru thinking for himself.”

“What a terrible notion.” Anton said dryly.

They were not exactly welcomed into the tower but there was no open hostility, like there had been but a month ago. The Mist Walker guards patrolling the tower’s stairs gave them short and courteous nods, rather than being deliberately ignored.

Emecru had stationed himself on one of the lower levels, something that Gerin complained bitterly about. He was supposed to be acting on behalf of the Mist Walker Elders, currently dead and whose ashes were now spread throughout the old Kar Kingdom, and to convincingly to do so he had to be on a level where he would be close to where they were supposed to be.

“Ignorant little whelp.” Gerin muttered under his breath again. “If he ruins this, The Shadow Isles will be worse off than if the Goblins were still a threat.”

“I suspect it would.” Anton replied. “But we should discuss this with Emecru. In private. I don’t think it will be too difficult to remind him of his place in all this.”

Gerin looked a little relieved, but he was still incredibly nervous and angry.

Finally they reached the level. A simple door stood before them, well-armed Dark Elves stood guard and eyed their every move. They seemed surprised a few humans were with Gerin, even more-so the Blue Oni towering over them all. To their credit they did not move or gawk but Anton knew they were watching intently.

“This feels very familiar.” Gerin grumbled.

This time the guards did not try and bar their passage, nor have them surrender their weapons. With a simple look Gerin had them to open the door and to not try and disarm those accompanying him. The guards opened the door and allowed them in.

Unlike the room housing the Mist Walker Elders, little more than a large table with large and comfortable chairs, Emecru’s room overflowed with decadence. Gaudy golden ornaments lay everywhere, paintings of impossible battles lined the walls and all manner of expensive furniture formed a chaotic maze. At the far end, in a small clearing, sat Emecru behind a table clearly intended for a very large family. Two Dark Elven women stood either side, one massaging his shoulders and the other feeding him small pieces of fruit after seductively licking them with her tongue.

“A bit much.” Anton couldn't help but smile. “Then again it’s what he’s paying them for. At least I hope he’s paying them.”

Cetina looked to his right side, where Verona would normally stand. Undoubtedly, she would have said something but she was still in Atros. No one was willing to fill the vacancy with a suggestive remark.

“Gerin!” Emecru happily shouted. The two women recoiled from the sudden outburst, Anton saw the one giving the massage face turned sour. She was undoubtedly in it for the money. Nothing more. “How good of you to come by!”

“Who are these women?” Gerin asked. “I don’t remember them during the victory celebration.”

Gerin threw Anton a look. He was going to play nice, at least until he got closer.

“Oh? Them?” Emecru looked between them women and smiled, only when he smiled was it returned. “This is...Um…” He leant close to the woman feeding him. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s…” She looked at the massager. Both tried to keep their smiles but it was a little hard.

Gerin clapped his hands. “Leave us. Now.”

“You can’t do that.” Emecru grabbed one by the waist and pulled her close. “I still have time with them. Until sundown, to be precise.”

Gerin stared at the women as he continued to approach Emecru. They shared a glance and they wormed their way out of his hands and scampered away. They kept their hands clasped at their fronts, their heads cast down as they raced past. Emecru did not look very happy.

“So what do you want, Gerin?” Emecru seemed unnaturally smug and satisfied with himself. “You’ve come a long way-”

“Shut the door on your way out.” Gerin shouted after the women. They did as they were bid, though Anton guessed they probably knew something serious was about to happen.

“What-”

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve.” Gerin was but a few feet from Emecru’s table. “I gave you one job. A very simple job. To do what you were told and that’s it. It’s unbelievably simple, and yet you-”

“Hey!” Emecru tried to sound intimidating, a difficult act while he was sitting so slovenly. “I am doing a very difficult job! If I were to make a mistake then everyone would know the truth. We’d both be killed, so you shouldn’t be talking to me like that.”

Gerin clicked his tongue and stepped back. Though he kept his face flat Anton saw the anger surge through his neck.

“Allow me. Please.” Anton summoned a small Fire Bomb.

Emecru’s eyes widened. “So you are the mage! I didn’t think that you would look so…Normal. I thought you would have been as tall as the Beast-kin at your side. Tall and menacing…Not…This.”

“Did you actually check if he was any good?” Anton asked Gerin. “Or was he just hiding this? He seems a lot more intelligent that you first thought.”

Emecru laughed but did not deny his words.

Though if he was smart he wouldn't be so antagonistic to Gerin. He might just be stupid. And lucky.

“But I can and will use magic. Especially if Gerin asks me to.”

Emecru scoffed and produced a medallion. Anton groaned, it was one of the medallions the Mist Walker Elders wore, a medallion that could negate magic.

“I found these in the Mist Walker Elder’s possession. At least in their rooms.” He smiled at the medallions. “But they stop all magic. So it is terrifying to see magic, but it’s not to me.”

He let the power go to his head in just a few days. Definitely stupidly lucky.

Gerin shook his head. Emecru was not intimidated by Gerin nor by Anton, even when he demonstrated that he was a powerful mage. Either he was so stupid that he didn’t understand, or he had deceived Gerin by pretending to be stupid.

Anton softly sighed. “Looks like being nice isn’t going to work. But-”

Emecru scoffed. “I am-”

“Rasha?” Anton looked up at the Blue Minotaur. “Could you please grab him and take him with us?”

“What?” Emecru finally understood that he was completely at their mercy. “You can’t do that? I am the spokesperson for the Mist Walker Elders! I-”

Rasha reached over the table and grabbed him by his shoulder. Even though her fingers did not wrap around his limbs she was more than strong enough to lift him into the air. Emecru’s chair loudly smashed onto the ground, his legs thrashed about and repeatedly struck the table.

“How dare a mere Beast-kin do something like this to me!” Emecru punched Rasha’s armoured hand, bloodying his brown skin. “You Beasts are lesser than humans and yet you slaves try and do this to me?!”

Rasha sighed. “I thought Dark Elves were better than this.” Rasha’s gripped tightened, Emecru let out a short cry as his bones began to creak and groan. “But I’m in a good mood, so I won’t crush your arm.”

“I-”

“Let’s head outside.” Anton smiled. “I think that a bit of fresh air will do you some good. Maybe some of Gerin’s words will finally sink into the head of yours.”

“What are you going to do?”

Anton frowned. It was pretty obvious, to him at least, what was about to happen. “Let us show you.”

---[]---

“Please!” Emecru screamed. “Please pull me back in!”

Rasha glanced at Anton. She held Emecru over the edge of the balcony, several hundred meters above the ground. Beneath them the practicing Mist Walkers were little more than tiny dots partially obscured by the mist.

“Not yet.” Anton smiled. “I don’t think that he’s got the message yet.”

Rasha sighed. “If you say so, Anton.” Rasha began to grin. “At least he’s not hitting my hand anymore.”

“I don’t think he was actually hurting you.” Anton jabbed her side, his elbow hitting metal plates. “But I’ll make sure that every little scratch and bruise is taken care of.”

Rasha pulled a face. She coughed and refastened her grip. Emecru threw Anton an angry glance.

“Don’t do that to your pet.” Emecru bared his teeth. “She almost dropped me.”

“You’ll be fine.” Calo laughed as she leant against the railing, resting one elbow on the edge as she shook her head. “Looks like your flapping lips are that big that you could make wings from them.”

“What…” Sheso blinked in confusion at her sister. “What did you just say?”

“I don’t know.” Calo laughed. “But I still think it’s true.”

Sheso and Cetina shrugged at Anton. Gerin ignored them and stared at Emecru.

“Do you understand your position now?” Gerin stepped to the edge of the balcony. “How little your life is worth?”

“Pull me back in!” Emecru’s legs kicked towards the balcony. They scrapped the bottom of the railings but could not gain purchase. “Pull me back in, dammit!”

“Okay.” Gerin gently raised his hand towards Anton. “But do you understand why this is happening?”

“Fucking hell!” Emecru finally let his legs drop. “What do I have to say so I can come back in?”

“Tell me everything that you’ve done that I haven’t authorised.”

Emecru grit his teeth. “Fine...I ordered the Mist Walkers to start training every soldier they could, along with the other Mainland clans.”

“And?”

“And…For fuck’s sake. I also had the Mainland Clans pay me so they would get preferential treatment when trading with Bebbezzar and Seocuria. Whatever that means.”

“You…” Gerin’s mouth flapped about. “What do you mean that you don’t know what preferential means?”

“How do I know why I don’t know something?”

That’s almost deeply philosophical. But a broken clock is right twice a day.

“Alright then.” Gerin nodded to Anton.

Anton silently ordered Rasha to bring him back in. Emecru greedily grasped for the railing, Rasha ignored him and dropped him onto the balcony. He landed on all fours. When he tried to rise Gerin planted his foot into his wounded shoulder.

“I was stupid to give you as much freedom as I did.” Gerin pushed down hard enough to force him to crumple onto the floor. “If you had done exactly as you were told none of this would have happened. You would have had more money and wealth that most Dark Elves and even Humans. But now...Now I have to undo all the stupidity that you’ve unleashed upon The Shadow Isles.”

“I…” Emecru shook his head but had nothing more to say.

“You will spend the rest of your days under heavy guard.” Gerin’s eyes narrowed. “My guards. They will never let you out of your sight, nor will a single missive leave your lips without their express permission.”

Gerin nodded out into the endless mists. He waited until Emecru looked out as well. “You will become little more than the Mist Walker Elders. Someone only known by name, that your words speak for someone else. You yourself will never wield any power again. Real or imaginary.”

“Why don’t you just drop me from here?” Emecru spat at the ground. “You thought I was-”

“Because you have distinctive handwriting.” Gerin said softly. “It’s actually quite beautiful, shockingly so. Your parents must have been proud...Even though that was probably the only thing that you excelled at.”

Emecru said nothing.

The far door opened. Anton saw DuskReaver Dark Elves enter, removing the weapons of the Mist Walker guards and sending them away. The Mist Walkers did not protest, quite the opposite in fact.

“You shouldn’t have tried to over-reach.” Gerin turned away. “Perhaps you will remember this. When your soul is reborn.”

Emecru threw Gerin a hateful glare. Anton summoned a number of Large Fire Bombs and held them close to Emecru’s head. Now he was properly terrified of his magic, rather than his previous ignorant bluster.

“Don’t make me come back.” Anton spoke softly. “I think you’ll enjoy the view from the very top of the tower. If it only weren’t for the mist you could probably see the entire Shadow Isles. Not even I have seen anything like it. But I’m sure you’ll grow to like it. You’ll have time.”

Emecru snarled. “Go away, human.”

Anton leant close. “There’s always a fast way down if you ever feel inclined. Or...Even if you don’t.”

Emecru shook his head as the DuskReavers arrived and lifted him by his arms. He offered no resistance as he was dragged away.

“Not the best ending.” Gerin muttered. “I thought he might be able to be reasoned with.”

“A serious danger when trying to get a stooge to work with you.” Anton said softly.

“You know something of this?”

“No…” Anton frowned lightly as his eyes fell on Rasha. “But I feel that someday I will.”

Rasha frowned back, she didn’t inquire about what he was saying but she would undoubtedly ask later.

“As soon as we can work out a better system then he’ll be removed.” Gerin said softly. “I doubt he’ll see the summer. Thank you, Rasha. I do not believe he’ll forget being what it feels like to be dangling over the abyss.”

“He was trembling a lot.” Rasha smiled. “He really wasn’t enjoying it.”

“I wonder why.” Anton said dryly. Cetina slowly nodded.

“Take this.” Gerin produced a small sealed scroll. “Take and show this to those guarding the Green Moon Fortress. They will give you the ships. I presume you can deal with the crew?”

“Of course.” Anton said. “Not a problem in the slightest.”

“Thank you…” Gerin sighed. “Hopefully the next time we meet it will be a time of celebration. Where our two people can come together for something other than war.”

Anton smiled. “I would like that too. But remember that you are always welcome to visit Atros if you so desire.” He nodded to the still open balcony. “At least a place that isn’t permanently covered in mist and fog.”

“One day...One day…”

---[]---

“It looks the exact same as I remember it.” Sheso leant close to the edge of the Jaguar drawn carriage. “The walls are just as thick and tall-”

“Better than when we left it.” Calo softly interjected. “I...I honestly don’t feel that good when I look at this place.”

Cetina folded her arms. “How skinny were you two when we arrived?”

"We were very skinny." Calo said softly. "A lot of the food we snuck to the children..."

"And there wasn't that much of that either." Sheso added softly. "We probably weighed as much as Axia, between us both."

"It's a wonder that you didn't die once we got some decent food into you." Anton said. "I know we slowly ramped it up but it still could have killed you."

"How do you know that?" The twins asked simultaneously.

"A terrible war...A terrible war that I hope never to see for myself."

He had yet to tell even Cetina about the horrors of the World Wars of Earth, he knew it would be an interesting tale to tell but now was not the time.

The Green Moon fortress had not been fully repaired, yet. Many of the walls were still damaged but much work had already been performed to repair it. Dark Elf masons fashioned stones into blocks before being loaded onto a wooden crane and lifted high to the workers. These workers were hard to identify which clan they came from as most were bare chested, the men at least, and were missing their distinctive coloured tassel.

"A lot of these look like they're from the Wind Walkers." Calo said softly. "I didn't think they were hard workers."

"How can you tell?" Anton bounced forward slightly as the carriage came to a halt.

"It's..." Calo frowned lightly before shrugging. "Just something that we can see."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sheso spoke completely devoid of emotion.

Calo glared at her sister but her face softened when she realized Sheso was just teasing her. The two began to squabble as they exited the carriage. Cetina and Rasha exited before Anton, rather they prevented him from leaving until they were out and made sure it was safe.

As with the Mist Walker tower there were many Dark Elves training and honing their combat ability. Not as many as the Mist Walkers but still at least a hundred. These looked very young, probably no older than the twins. New warriors not mass conscription.

"I wonder if they're sleeping in our beds?" Calo asked.

"It really wasn't a priority when we were trying to rescue you." Anton said. "If it's still there do you want it?"

"Nah." Calo stretched her arms over her head. "They weren't that comfortable anyway. What we've got now is far, far better than before."

A Wind Walker warrior approached. He seemed to recognize Anton, and possibly Cetina, as his demeanour relaxed considerably.

"Hello." He bowed deeply. "How may we help you this day?"

Anton produced the sealed scroll. "We have a letter for your commander. The Green Moon's boats, those inside the fortress, are to be relinquished to us. We will be taking them back with us."

"I...I see." The warrior began to walk towards the main entrance to the fortress, still half ruined but repairs were well underway. "You will need to speak with Vonkal then, our leader. He will be able to tell you more."

The inner corridors had already been cleaned, cleaned of blood and corpses, both normal Goblins and those sickly mottled creatures. They had yet to see them again but Anton felt they would, especially from Surdon to the south of Atros.

Hopefully they've cleaned the boats too. It's going to be pretty hard to explain they were covered in bloated and stretched Goblin corpses.

Anton sniffed at the air.

The gates must be open by now. The stench alone from the bodies Verona pushed into the water should be unbearable.

A light quickly grew at the end of the tunnel. While the side passages were deserted, the twins eyed them nervously for another surprise Goblin attack, the central bristled with activity. Thankfully none of it cantered around the Green Moon's ships. They rested in the harbour, slowly rocking back and forth with a faint swell. To Anton's surprise half of the gate was opened, the other was still barred by a pile of stones that had fallen from the roof.

"I'd never think that I would see them again." Calo swooned at the sight of the ships. "Leran and Cagec will be so happy to know they're in one piece."

And no longer covered in blood.

"Will they just?" A voice called out from the side. "And why would former pirates be delighted to see ships they supposedly never had in the first place?"

The voice belonged to Vonkal, leader of the Wind Walkers. He looked surprisingly like Gerin, though all Dark Elves looked similar to a surprising degree, but inside he was quite different. Anton was glad to have had little dealings with him. Kal made special mention of him, none of it anything other than creepy.

“Regardless.” Anton held the small scroll towards Vonkal. “They are now ours.”

“Honestly they belonged to the Green Moon, regardless of what we say or do.” Vonkal smiled as he approached. “But whomever holds it has control. Correct?”

“Correct.”

Vonkal waited for Anton to speak further but he had nothing more to say. If anything he looked a little put off, like he was anticipating a verbal sparing, not a sudden end to a conversation.

“So what does Gerin have to say?”

Vonkal stopped a few meters away and ordered a nearby warrior to take the scroll. Behind him he saw the Dark Elf woman that Vonkal had sent with Verona and Kal, as some sort of punishment and potentially hoping that she would die, organising the other warriors. Anton did not know her name but it did not matter right now.

“That we are to take all of the Green Moon’s ships and take them back with us.”

“Okay.” Vonkal shrugged before he had even read the paper. “I don’t have any use for them.”

“But they’re really good ships!” Calo said adamantly.

“The best in The Shadow Isles.” Sheso quickly added. “Best in the world! And you...Um…”

The twins shared a glance as they realised what they were saying. Anton softly sighed and lightly slapped the backs of their heads. They remained completely still and tried to act like nothing had just happened.

“They are good ships.” Vonkal quickly read the paper. “Very good. But they aren’t what we need anymore. We aren’t raiders or pirates. No, we’re going to be traders and explorers.”

Are there still lands to discover? No one has found the polar caps...If this world has such things. Magic tends to make ‘normal’ laws irrelevant.

“And while those ships.” Vonkal dismissively nodded to the ships. “Are indeed fast their cargo space leaves much to be desired. Yes. Much to be desired.” He smiled as he placed the scroll in his pocket. “And we already know how your clan made these fine vessels. We will use that to improve our own vessels.”

Calo and Sheso shared a glance. Leran and Cagec would not be pleased to learn that.

“Regardless, we will be taking them. Right now.”

“So long as you can crew them.” Vonkal’s eyes were finally drawn to Rasha. “Unless you plan to have her do all of the work...I notice that you have had at least two Beast-kin by your side.”

Rasha lent down slightly. “Why is everyone mentioning that I’m a Beast-kin today?”

“It must be your face.” Anton shrugged innocently. “Must have never seen anyone with blue skin before.”

“True…”

Vonkal clicked his tongue. “But I’ve received word from my people, now living in your city, that there are many, many Beast-kin there. Is that true?”

“It is.” Anton folded his arms. “But they aren’t to be poked or prodded by anyone. Especially me or you.”

Vonkal did not look dismayed. “Perhaps one day I’ll visit. So far it sounds like an interesting place. But, please take the ships. We will be using the dock as a shipyard for our new trading vessels. They’ll be just as large as any Human or Dwarven ship! Just you wait.”

Sheso lightly nudged her sister's side. “They aren’t going to like this.”

“No…” Calo clicked her tongue. “But this isn’t our land anymore.”

“I’ll establish the portal.” Cetina removed the bag and began setting out the portal stones. “They’re waiting on the other side. At least they should be.”

The Wind Walkers gave them a wide berth as the portal flashed into being. A small piece of wood immediately emerged.

“Why…” Vonkal frowned. “Does it just make...No. No the people-”

A pair of Dark Elves stepped through, ones wearing the Green Moon’s tassel around their necks.

“Some sort of alarm?” Vonkal rubbed his beardless chin. “I see. That makes sense.”

He began muttering to himself and returned to the other Wind Walkers. The DuskReavers quickly asked the twins for instructions and were delighted to know the ships were theirs without any hassle.

“Where are we sailing to?” One of the DuskReavers asked.

“Jaka.” Anton said. “But make sure that you don’t try and dock in the harbour. The area is still swarming with Goblins and we cannot guarantee your safety...We might try and get the Dwarves to build something, an extension to the little outpost.” Anton shrugged. “Something that we will have to work out, but that’s not your problem.”

“No.” The Dark Elf smiled. “We’ll get the ships and depart as soon as possible. Will you be coming with us?”

“No. We’ll make our own way back to the portal.” Anton turned to the twins. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything from the fortress? This will probably be the last time you’ll see if for quite a while.”

Both smiled back.

“No.” Calo looked to the ceiling. “It was good to come back but there’s nothing for us here. There’s a lot of good, and a lot of bad memories floating around this place.”

“And we like it in Atros.” Sheso continued. “Much better food, beds and places to visit.” Sheso cracked a smile. “And the people can be really nice too. So it wasn’t all that bad, was it?”

Anton only returned the smile. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by reminding her just how many of their clan had died to the Goblins, nor that they themselves had almost died to their predations. Sometimes saying nothing was the right thing to say.

Volume 05 - Chapter 39 - Interuptions

Anton returned to Atros. The Green Moon ships were on their way to Jaka, which would need to be secured against the Goblins, not a minor task. Calo and Sheso bade them a farewell and left, leaving Anton alone with Cetina and Rasha.

"I..." Rasha ran a hand through her braided red hair. "I think I need to have a bath before tonight. I smell like a warrior."

"You kind of do." Anton smiled. "But so do I, really."

Cetina opened the door out of the portal building. "It's not that bad, honestly. When we're travelling its much, much worse. And it hardly stops any of us."

"I still think I should." Rasha smiled. "Do Verona and Kal know yet?"

"I've already told them." Anton stepped outside. "Guess which one of them started giggling inanely."

"What a hard question-"

Cetina stopped and readied to draw her sword. A young Beastkin ran towards them with every ounce of strength he could muster. He only stopped when he realised the sword Cetina levelled at his throat, and the nearby portal guards moving to intercept him.

"Lord Anton!" The Beastkin boy held a partially crumpled piece of paper high and waved it back and forth. "A message has just arrived. From King Leo."

"Already?" Anton held Cetina's shoulder as she sheathed her blade. "Is it the Centaurs?"

"I don't know." The boy was allowed to approach. "They just told me to run and find you. They said you were in The Shadow-"

Cetina snatched the paper from his hands and held it out for Anton. The Beastkin boy was not bothered by Cetina's actions.

"Let's see...Shit. They're already at the wall." Anton clicked his tongue. "Won't be long before they're attacking. Gather as many soldiers as we can as fast as we can."

"I'll let them know." Rasha began to run to the north. "I'll try and catch Calo and Sheso on the way!"

Anton shook his head. "Everything's on hold until we've dealt with the Centaurs. What do you think this Khan Dorgar will be like?"

"I honestly don't know." Cetina checked over her armour. "But I don't think it's going to end well for one of us."

---[]---

Anton stepped through the Qaiviel portal, the frantic note in hand. This time he was not on a hill overlooking the Conflagration, rather inside a simple wooden building. Cetina and several human soldiers waited for him, all with their weapons drawn and shields ready. One could never be certain what was waiting on the other side. On the far side stood a Black Rider Knight, not Bernard, a man whose physique matched and likely surpassed Zac, but certainly one of a high rank. Anton recognized the face but couldn't place a name.

"Duke Anton." The Knights bowed low. "Forgive me for saying this but time is extremely short. Can you meet his majesty on the battlements immediately? The Centaurs will soon be upon us."

"Battlements?" Anton stepped forward. "So long as my soldiers are treated well. They might not look as resplendent as you but they are fierce fighters."

The Knight frowned for just a moment. He recovered and gave a nod, ordering the door to be opened and a clear path to be made.

Anton tapped one of the human soldiers. "Tell them to come through. A couple hundred at most. But none of the...Beasts. Neither we or they are ready for the implications and consequences."

The soldier gave a rough salute and stepped through the portal. Before he could return Verona and Kal stepped through with Calo and Sheso just behind. Rasha had to stay behind. Despite the sheer intimidation she could bring the knowledge they were working with Beast-kin would risk Atros's future just when they were starting to truly grow.

Outside he was greeted with nothing but total chaos. Knights ran back and forth without their armour fully equipped, panicking Squires and Pages behind those with the missing sets. Normal soldiers were equally bewildered, shouting for their company or a commander. Together the swirling sea of bright colours was more than a little disorienting. And worrying. Either disciple had dropped to such a low level or they did not think an attack was possible so quickly. Anton did not know which was worse.

The Black Knight shouted, barely audible over the cacophony of frantic people, and beckoned Anton to follow. The small stream of Atros soldiers cut through the soldiers. Their relative order made the others give them a slight berth, even though their armour was somewhat inferior.

As Anton followed the back of the Knight he tried to gather his bearings. They were still within King Leo's original camp, nestled in the shadow of the wall. The camp had grown considerably, with many more tents and permanent fixtures, like the building they had just left. He also saw proper cook houses, though his body shuddered remembering the assassination attempt, and latrines. They were once at the edge of the camp but the buildings had surrounded and swallowed them.

The wall itself had undergone a radical transformation. While some sections were still old and crumbling King Leo had taken Anton's words to heart and mobilized everything he could. At least a third of the wall was stone, haphazardly laid but sturdy nonetheless. Anton was certain the Dwarves were complaining loudly about such a poor job. Dirt formed the rest, piled as high as the stone. Vertical logs, rammed deep into the soil, acted as a barrier and kept the dirt wall sheer. No horse or Centaur could climb such a thing.

Anton reached the top of the wall section. Soldiers and Knights lined the entire length of the wall, albeit only one deep. All stood at attention, bows and loaded crossbows at their side. Behind them Pages and Squires, and those not old or strong enough, ran back and forth carrying ammunition and medical supplies. It was all very impressive, especially how the banner of the Qaiviel Kingdom, a wolf's head surrounded by a wreath, fluttered pridefully in the strong wind. The men and women did not stand as strongly, many were shaking and trying to hold back a nervous gaze or twitch. The Knights were less affected than the common soldier but they too were still nervous.

The moment Anton looked over he did not begrudge or envy anyone standing along the wall. Once the Conflagration was barren, now it termed with life. Hostile life. The Centaurs formed a massive wall of bodies stretching from one side of the mountain wall to the other. A mere mile or so separated them yet it seemed like they were right on them. The Centaur's jeered at the defenders on the wall, waving their spears above their heads and stomping their hooves, throwing up a thin cloud of red dust. A few Centaurs rode before the lines, occasionally stopping and forcing them back into a cohesive force.

"Hundreds of thousands." Anton whistled. "Anyone would say there's a million of them."

"I can't count that many." Kal said softly.

Cetina emerged at the rear of their small column of soldiers with a small bag on her shoulder. She gave a single nod. The portal stones lay within.

"No wonder Leo was scared." Kal shook her head. "Imagine if...Our home had to face this many."

"This way, please." The Knight asked before setting a brisk pace.

No one spared them more than a single glance, especially when a local commander barked insults for taking their eye off the enemy, as the Knight approached a large raised wooden platform. It sat behind the wall and had the most Knights surrounding it, the Royal Army acting as guards and contributing the majority of soldiers in this section of the wall.

"I ask that your men wait here." The Knight stopped before the wooden staircase up. Nearly a dozen armed Knights watched their every movement like a hawk. "They will be safe here."

"I'm taking my immediate companions with me." Anton announced. He gave no reason why, only stating his intentions.

The Knight had no qualms about it and began ascending the stairs. Cetina gave the orders to their local leaders and followed. Calo and Sheso silently asked if they were needed. Anton wasn't sure but the pair wouldn't last long if Leo decided to turn on them. They would also add to his clout, someone that had the support of the Dark Elves could not be simply brushed aside, not that Leo would but he didn't know about others. Anton gave Cetina a nod and they began to climb the stairs.

A ring of archers, wielding large white bows, awaited them. To one side sat several chairs, protected by the sun's heat with a thick cloth awning. On the other lay a raised table surrounded by many stern and angry men wearing heavy and brightly coloured metal armour. Anton recognize some, Marcus and Castor were not present, along with the commander of the Royal Army, Henri. He was the first to acknowledge their presence.

Leo, King Leo, at first had his back to them as he poured all of his attention to the small figurines on the map. A nearby Knight Order Commander, a garish mixture of orange and green, alerted the King to their presence. Leo's scowl vanished when he recognized them.

"Ah! Anton." Leo waved them forward. Their escorting Knight bowed and hurriedly left. "Forgive me, it is Duke Anton now. How is the new land treating you?"

"Unfortunately, your Majesty-"

The moment Anton uttered the word unfortunately several of the Knights, those with brighter and more vibrant colours looked at Anton with genuine anger.

"-We have only been able to visit once. However I do feel that Hardheim is a lovely city and will someday be a very prosperous place. Thank you, your majesty, for giving me the opportunity to govern Hardheim to prosperity.”

Leo nodded, gently waving a Knight to step back. Anton caught Bernard's eye, the giant of a Knight stood on Leo's other side. He looked a little tired, he probably had contributed to the construction effort personally.

The Knight barely moved, so Anton coughed loudly. A quick look from the King was more than sufficient to remind him of his place.

"The wall has been finished." Leo clicked his tongue. "Just. But it should be more than enough to fend off these Centaurs."

Someone had made a very accurate model of the wall. Anton guessed about one fifth was stone, the rest dirt with wooden supports.

"Your Dwarves were a great help." Leo continued. "Though they were less than impressed with what we had to do they made sure we did it right."

"And where are they now?"

Leo pointed to the sprawling war camp, to a small cook house, slightly isolated from the rest of the camp.

"They can eat a lot, let's just say that. And drink too...Probably half of the camp's wine has gone into their bellies."

Anton couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping the edge of the desk. “That they can. I think we can discuss payment after the battle is won-”

The Knight that had barely moved for Anton drew his sword. Anton’s ears twitched to the sound, behind him Kal and Cetina readied their own weapons, Verona hovered her hand over the clay pots on her hip.

"Who is a mere Duke to speak to the King like that?" The garish knight asked.

Anton did not move his attention away from the table. "I don't recall seeing a Knight with your colours in the battle for Clausonne."

"We are a new order," The man puffed out his chest. "Formed after the battle. We may be young order but we-"

"Be quiet you inbred imbecile." Bernard growled. "You have no idea who you are antagonizing."

Bernard's words shut the garish Knights mouth tight. He took another step to the side, the other new orders lost their looks of condescension while Henri and the older orders almost smiled.

"We still need to win first." Leo mumbled. "And even with your strength," He glanced to the women behind Anton. "And theirs, it will be a long battle."

"Perhaps." Anton mused. "Perhaps not. I remember Alfred mentioning the Centaur clans have never been united like this. I doubt it's a cohesive force. If we can take out their leader-"

"They'll fight amongst themselves." Leo nodded. "If nothing else they'll be disorganized. Does anyone know where their leader, that Khan Dorgar, is?"

"I believe I have located him." An older voice called out from the perimeter archers. Alfred stepped back from the edge with the telescope in hand.

"It's a little difficult to tell amongst the horde but I'm sure that's their leader."

Alfred pointed to the centre of the Centaur horde. There was a small group, right at the front that looked slightly different from the rest. Anton silently enhanced his vision. These Centaurs were much larger than their fellows, their spears were larger and had pieces of metal used in its construction. Anton also saw the Centaur they had chased away during their first encounter. He looked a little more subdued than before. He, and many of the larger Centaurs, occasionally glanced to one Centaur at the front. He was a very impressive specimen amongst the Centaurs. Something about the way he commanded himself and the attitudes of those around him told him that he was the Khan.

"I can see him too." Anton deactivated the enhancement. "Seems to be quite strong."

The new Knights shared a curious and doubtful glance, those that had served with Anton merely shrugged it off.

"Too far?" Leo asked. "What about one of those bird things of yours? Can they not reach?"

“Possibly.” Anton rubbed his chin. “But when they see my Lightning Crow flying through the sky they’ll know something’s up. It might just make them incredibly angry, being such a cowardly way to kill. When they decide to attack I’ll give it a go.”

“It very well might make them angry.” Alfred added softly. “While effective it is a dishonourable way to fight, not that the defeated have much of a voice to complain.”

“How long have they been there?” Verona asked.

Leo kept his eyes focused only her hers, never allowing them to wander for a moment. “A little bit before you arrived. It’s hard to hide that many Centaurs. I’m sure we would have heard them even if they came at...night…”

Leo held his chin. “Why didn’t they? We’d have still had people outside...”

“I don’t know how well horses see in the dark.” Anton looked at the map again. “But I know that humans can’t. Besides, they have the numbers and I don’t think you’d open any gate just to save a few people that were trapped outside. I’m not saying you’re heartless, only that it’d be a very poor decision.”

“So they want to talk?” Bernard growled. “With that army behind him.”

“He sent his people before.” Anton shrugged. “Maybe he thinks that he’ll have better luck. This Khan didn’t sound like he was a complete fool.”

“At the very least we’ll get him close enough for magic or arrows to sort this mess out.” Leo summoned a nearby waiting messenger. “Send a Knight out, with a white truce flag. See if they’re willing to be civilised.”

The messenger bowed and sped away.

Leo clapped his hands. “Until we hear from them we’re playing a waiting game.” Leo looked to Alfred, Henri and then Bernard. “Correct?”

“Yes, My King.” Bernard replied. The other two silently agreed.

“In that case I think we should have something to eat.” Leo summoned another messenger. “We can’t think on an empty stomach. Make sure...Bernard, you told me that a full stomach makes fighting difficult?”

“It does.”

“Hmm...Instruct the men to have a quick meal. Don’t want hunger to distract them in battle, nor dull their nerves.”

And this is the same man that murdered his sister in cold blood. The only family he had left. Maybe his wife is a good influence? Or maybe the thought of losing his kingdom drove him a little mad? Time will tell, especially when Atros starts to emerge on the global scene. I wonder if he’ll regret not killing us that day?

---[]---

Dusty air irritated Anton’s nose as the meeting’s furniture was laid out on a small patch of smooth land on the Conflagration, halfway between the wall and the Centaur horde. The messenger had returned with a message from the Khan that he wished to speak with Leo. Obviously it was too dangerous for him to approach the wall so a compromise was made.

Khan Dorgar and ten of his personal bodyguards, at least that’s what Anton presumed they were, stood opposite Leo. Leo had brought several of his strongest Knights along with Anton and Alfred. Verona, Kal and Cetina came with him but Calo and Sheso waited with their small forces near the King’s platform. Chairs and a small selection of drinks and food had been brought with Leo while the Centaurs only brought their spears. Anton seriously doubted any of the Centaurs would partake in the human’s food, on the off chance it was poisoned.

“King Leo.” The Centaur at the centre, standing a full length forward than the others, spoke with a deep and authoritative voice. “I must admit that I didn’t think you’d actually come and speak to me. So many of your predecessors consider my kind beneath you.”

An interesting way to start.

Anton didn’t feel any dampening to his magic and was ready to strike the moment Leo gave the word. His magic was also the only thing that would buy them the time to escape, should the worse happen.

Leo took a slow, deep breath, carefully considering his words. “Many of your predecessors haven’t tried to speak with us. Normally you’d just attack and kill my people. I’m sure you can understand why they wouldn’t waste time trying to talk.”

Dorgar cracked a faint smile. His guards were furious, except the Centaur that Anton had met previously. He kept his attention as far away from Anton without being too overt.

“I’m glad that we’re actually able to speak.” Dorgar smiled and folded his arms. “Perhaps we can actually come to an agreement.” Dorgar nodded to the stone and dirt wall looming behind them. “But so long as that thing is there, I don’t think there’s going to be much talking.”

“The m-Centaur you sent.” Leo pointed to the Centaur trying to avoid their gaze. “Spent most of his time threatening me and my people. We sent him running-”

“-You killed two hundred of my people.” Dorgar’s eyes narrowed. “With terrible magic.”

Dorgar looked at Anton. Anton didn’t attempt a staring contest, there was nothing to gain with a pointless display of strength and masculinity, and continued blinking normally so he was not distracted by sore eyes.

“And you’ve killed thousands of us.” Leo shrugged. “So we’re right back where we started.”

Anton tapped Leo’s shoulder. The King leant back to listen to Anton’s words.

“Ask outright what he wants. This is going nowhere fast and it might be a ploy for some plan.”

“Nowhere fast?” Leo whispered. “I think I understand…”

Leo’s eyes scanned the lines of Centaurs. “Your...Messenger, told us to leave. Why?”

Dorgar’s face softened, if for only an instant. “My people need your land. The Conflagration cannot support our numbers and they are dying. I will not,” His hoof stomped on the dry dirt, throwing up a tiny plume of brown dust. “Let that happen. If your people need to be removed, then so be it.”

Anton tapped again on Leo’s shoulder.

“Who is this?” Dorgar asked as Leo leant back. “I believe this human is the mage that killed my people. He has the same companions with him, at least their hair is the same.”

Verona twirled a loose strand of her silver hair.

“We were present during the first meeting.” Anton said softly. “It appears he has lost some of his attitude, at the very least.”

Dorgar looked back to Guchugur. The Centaur kept his gaze flat but his rear hooves tapped nervously on the ground.

“But the people of Qaiviel will simply not surrender their lands and their lives for you.” Anton said. Like last time he received no sign of objection from Leo so he continued. “Why should they? It sounds like...How do you have such numbers in a land as barren as this?”

Anton motioned either side. The only plants that grew were small and hardy, slowly eking their way through the larger cracks in the ground. This was near the border so there could be considerably more life further in the Conflagration.

Dorgar folded his large, muscular arms. “There are plants that grow in the Conflagration. Not many, but some. Many large fruits. They are mostly what we eat.”

“Difficult to grow or sustain large numbers of these plants?”

“Why are you talking about plants?” One of the Centaurs asked. He attempted to lower his spear but Dorgar lightly blocked it with his arm, making no other sign he would stop his subordinate. “We are here for your lands. And we will take them, human.”

Anton fought back the desire to roll his eyes. “You said that the Conflagration cannot support your numbers. Correct?”

“Correct.” Dorgar said flatly.

Anton again looked to the near endless lines of Centaurs. “Imagine, for a moment, if we let all of your Centaurs in. How-”

“You let us?” The Centaur scoffed.

“You interrupt me again and I’ll burn you alive.” Anton spoke flatly as possible.

Guchugur began to visibly panic and slowly moved away, using the other Centaurs as living shields. As the Centaur’s muscles began to twitch Dorgar punched the Centaur in the face. His jaw collapsed as Dorgar’s fist followed through, spattering blood and teeth on the next Centaur. The others backed away, their hooves prancing on the ground as the Centaur writhed in pain. No one spoke a word as he slowly rose to his feet, wiping away the blood from his face and returning to his position, none spoke a word or acted like a beating just hadn’t happened.

“You say that you are overpopulated for your poor land.” Anton continued. “Now, you may recognise this as a problem, and are doing something about it. But can you speak for every Centaur out there?”

“I can.” Dorgar spoke without a hint of doubt.

“I…” Anton chuckled. “I doubt that. But let’s say that it’s true. But what about after you're gone,” Anton raised his hands. “Of natural causes. What’s to say that four or five generations later there’s another bout of overpopulation?”

Dorgar’s brow furrowed slightly as he mulled over Anton’s words.

“And they won’t be outside of our lands. But within.” Anton lightly sighed. “Not to mention your...people, have shown that they are more than willing to kill us, not that humans are any better. It’s a huge risk that we are not willing to take.”

The same could be said of the Beast-kin. But we are saving them from slavery...I’m sure the difference in my skin colour to the Seocurians helps a great deal. Unfortunately...

“Are you saying there’s no hope for my people?” Dorgar asked. He wasn’t defeated, rather defiant. “That we’re nothing more than scavengers, doomed to a vicious cycle of death? Until my kind is nothing but dust? Or reduced to such a state that you can enslave us like the Seocurians or the United Empire?”

“You…” Anton tapped his leg. “You seem very intelligent for a...Compared to the other Centaurs we’ve met. This may sound odd, but have you received a formal education?”

Dorgar tried his best to hide it but Anton could see it through the tiny movements of his muscles, the tremors in his legs and the twitches of his fingers.

That’s a bit of a surprise. Certainly not by anyone from Qaiviel. But beyond the Conflagration lies the Mycean City States. There’s a mountain range keeping them separate but there’s probably a pass somewhere. But why would someone teach a Centaur? Someone with a grudge against Qaiviel? I could just force it out of him but then it’d definitely be war.

“Regardless.” Anton dismissively waved his hand. “We cannot risk that. However, I think I might have a solution.”

“Really?” Dorgar gently shook his head. “Since we’re playing this game, and your king seems more than content to let a lesser man speak for him,” Leo, to his credit, didn’t rise to the provocation. “What do you propose?”

“We give you food and agricultural technology until your population stabilises. I imagine your population has grown rapidly after being unified. When there were no more wars or conflicts to keep your population somewhat in check?”

Dorgar kept his calm. Anton wasn’t sure what he expected to gain from this meeting but clearly it wasn’t what Anton was throwing at him.

“Are you suggesting we become farmers?” A different Centaur asked. His tone was nowhere as flippant or aggressive as the other Centaur, he looked at this Centaur while blood dribbled down his lips.

“In a sense.” Anton said. “But if you want to get your people under control, and one day see beyond the Conflagration, without having to spill blood, this is the only way.”

Anton pointed to the wall. “There’s no way you’re going to make it over that without building a ramp made from your own corpses.”

“You think that you can actually win?” Dorgar scoffed. “You may have a wall, a small wall at that.”

It’s not that small. You can’t jump that high. Unless you actually do actually plan to build a ramp out of your corpses.

“But we will win.” Dorgar nodded to his Centaurs. “I’m giving you a chance to surrender to us.”

Anton held out his hand. Guchugur shied away, Dorgar noticed and his muscles tensed. A purple disk of light hovered over his hand. A Large Lightning Crow emerged, the Centaurs muttered as the Crow flew into the air and circled over their head. Dorgar followed the creature as it stopped and began to glow bright. The lightning hue vanished, three lightning bolts smashed into the ground to their side. The Centaurs trotted back in utter shock as the volleys continued. Anton summoned another Large Lightning Crow and directed it next to the other. They flew higher, into the sickly clouds of the Conflagration, and over the front of the Centaur’s army. Both quickly flew back and landed before Anton.

“I can do a lot more than this.” Anton summoned a Small Fire Imp. “And I know that your warriors can’t throw a javelin that high.”

“I-”

“Do you see those soldiers on the wall?” Anton pointed towards the raised platform. The Atros soldiers waited on the very edge of the wall, he could almost make out Calo and Sheso. “The ones that look like me? What do you think they can do?”

“You’re bluffing.”

“They aren’t as strong as me, true. But I do think you can do some basic maths. Not to mention there’s a great many other mages manning the wall too.”

Anton did not know if that was actually true, Qaiviel had many of its mages killed during the civil war, but Dorgar didn’t know any better.

“Mages aren’t a threat to us.” Dorgar spoke dismissively, though Anton knew his eyes focused on Anton’s hands for any sign of magic. “There are far more of us than there are of you.”

“Do you think that we can’t make it back to the wall?” Leo asked. He looked to Anton. “We can…” A smile crept over Leo’s lips. “How strong is your hold over the Centaur Clans?”

“His will is absolute.” The Second Centaur said proudly. “See?” He pointed to the beaten Centaur. “He stands with his Khan, no matter what. No matter where our Khan leads we will follow.”

Leo rubbed his thumb along the tips of his fingers. “But who is to follow you? If I were to die there is someone that will succeed me. There’s no great upheaval or war of dominance to determine who sits upon the throne.”

That’s blatantly untrue…

“But if something were to happen to you, who would rule your warherd?” Leo looked to the nearby Centaurs. “One of them? One has certainly more than enough reason to see that no one from your family ever leads your warherd again.”

Dorgar didn’t seem phased but the wounded Centaur looked a little worried.

Sowing division amongst the enemy? You haven’t threatened them, at least directly. Not yet.

“I’ve never heard of a Centaur that was willing to talk to their enemies, to try and use diplomacy to make your enemy submit.” Leo faintly smiled. “It does indeed seem like you have been tainted by a human’s teaching.”

“Who educated you?” Anton asked. Dorgar raised a brow. “From Mycea? Who was the one that taught you these things?”

That alone caused tremendous dissent amongst the Centaurs. His physical prowess and leadership ability gave him any authority over the Centaurs, but his human influence was a terrible blight on him. Would that be enough to turn the other clans against him?

“If you were to spread through my lands, even peacefully, I doubt you would submit to my rule.” Leo took a deep breath. “So...We will not let you into our lands. Nor negotiate anything, beyond,” Leo glanced at Anton. “Assisting you getting your people under control, and to no longer be little more than a rampaging horde. When you can stand next to us there will be more to discuss. Until then, there is little more to say. You can’t make it past the walls. And even if you did, you’d have to deal with the entire army of the Qaiviel Kingdom. I wonder who you’ll send first in first?” Leo looked at the wounded Centaur. “Perhaps your people will be the first to feel our arrows. If you were to charge in the one place your corpses might be enough to build a ramp. No?”

Though the Centaurs had professed loyalty the wounded Centaur did not look happy. Khan Dorgar had unified the disparate clans through force, resentment undoubtedly lingered, just waiting for a chance to enact their revenge.

Dorgar folded his arms. “Leave us. Now.”

“But…” The bloodstained Centaur’s stance hardened. “Yes. As you wish, Khan Dorgar.”

The Centaurs sped away, even Guchugur. He was the last to leave, watching his Khan with terrible worry as he trundled away.

“Something they cannot hear?” Anton asked softly.

Dorgar sighed. “The clan leaders will not accept this. They will not accept anything less than total victory and your submission.”

“That is a serious problem.” Leo murmured.

Dorgar said nothing. His stance hardened. Anton didn’t want to push him any further, lest he lash out and try and kill the King. If their Khan died right now the hordes would attack before they could reach safety, unless that was the plan. Cetina had the portal stones but there was no way the Centaurs could know about something like that.

“I don’t think he’s got anything more to say anything.” Leo said. “He has no reason to speak. But…” Leo sighed. “It appears we’re at an impasse. If you wish to discuss potential means to help the Centaurs civilise, send a single Centaur to the wall and we can discuss things further.”

Leo signalled for the Knights to retreat back to the wall.

Anton didn’t leave, Verona and Cetina stepped forward to pull him back.

“Khan Dorgar. Talk to your people. Tell them what we’ve told you, what we’ve offered to your people. There is no need for bloodshed, if you are willing to take a different path than despoiling, conquest and an endless cycle of death. We can provide you with the tools and food you need for the transition into something more stable.”

Dorgar’s brows furrowed as he looked to the harsh, broken ground.

“I’m sorry that I killed your people.” Anton bowed his head. “But I will not hesitate to do it again, to use every magic and ability I have if you attack us.”

Without waiting for his response Anton left. Dorgar watched them leave in perfect silence, with only the wind whipping up the dust around him.

---[]---

“An interesting tactic.” Leo sipped at his goblet of wine, barely suppressing his smirk. “But it seemed to be effective. Not one piece of magic, bolt or arrow, not even a drawn blade. And yet…”

Beyond the wall the Centaur hordes had fractured. Their lines were no longer cohesive and were beginning to turn on one another. The Centaurs on the flanks were breaking and fleeing deeper into the Conflagration, those near the centre began to ball up and form distinct groups.

“He actually tried to convince them.” Anton mused as he ate a small blue fruit. “I do feel a little sorry for Khan Dorgar. He wanted the best for his people, but it just wasn’t to be.”

“Your offer wasn’t a bad idea.” Leo patted Anton’s back. “If he accepted immediately his herd would have turned on him. But those other Centaurs heard him. They would have told their clans and it seems like they all think that’s why he even met us in the first place. And then there was that last bit you threw at him. See? They’re already starting to disintegrate. This is…Beautiful.”

Shouts, audible even over the vast distance, began to emerge from the Centaur herds. The groups at the back began to flee. There were no fights yet but Dorgar’s herd was disintegrating before their very eyes.

“Savages.” Leo leant against the wall. “What can you expect from beings such as them? Dorgar probably looked like some human wearing…” Leo rubbed his short trimmed beard. “Not the best comparison…”

“I did mean what I said.” Anton received an odd look from Leo. “If they became a little bit more like us, not a rampaging and ever expanding horde, shackled by exponential growth and its subsequent decimation, then we could be good allies.”

“Really?” Leo squinted with one eye at Anton.

“Imagine a Knight riding one of them.” The nearby Knights scoffed, even Bernard looked a little off-put by the suggestion. “Not only would the Knight be able to fight but the Centaur itself. They could react faster than any horse, not needing instructions. Hell, the Knight could be an archer and be a very effective skirmish force.”

“It could be.” Henri said. He and the other members of the Royal Army continued to pour over the map. “But I don’t know many would stomach to ride such a thing.”

I’m sure you’d say the same about the Beast-kin.

“Perhaps a distant dream.” Leo murmured. “The United Empire used them in their armies, but that was a long time again.”

“Do we continue building the wall?” Bernard asked. He nodded to the moving mass of Centaurs. “Doesn’t look like they’re going to attack anytime soon.”

“Of course you should.” Anton almost scoffed. “At least completely made from stone. High towers and a garrison to man it all the time. Maybe some sort of Wall Order...Instead of Knights have archers and crossbowmen. Even if the Centaurs are dealt with, in whatever manner, there’s bound to be something else out there. And I’m honestly surprised that the Kings of Qaiviel ”

“I wonder what would have happened if Dorgar wasn’t so smart?” Verona wondered aloud. She shrugged as everyone laid eyes on her. “I mean, he tried to be clever, about what he wanted. If he’d just attacked the moment they arrived...Maybe they would have made it over, riding on piles of their dead.”

“Sometimes a direct attack works best.” Kal mused softly.

“I’ll make sure the walls are taller.” Alfred said softly. “We’ll need to expand the base so it can support its height and weight. But it can be done.”

Leo nodded. “Very good. Very good. Thank you, Duke Anton. The Qaiviel Kingdom is thankful and truly grateful for your continued assistance.”

Anton looked back to the fracturing warherd. Fights were beginning to erupt, blood spattering the dusty ground as the Centaurs charged at one another. Anton did feel quite sorry for Dorgar as years of work unravelled before them, and without the Qaiviel forces having to raise a single weapon.

Just goes to show how fragile it all really was. Just talking to your enemy is enough to bring down your entire army.

Anton sighed loudly. “Looks like we aren’t going to be needed until they unite once again.”

“Give us a few winters and we’ll push into the Conflagration and we’ll wipe them out.” Leo smiled. “Then we won’t need this wall and all the land beyond will be ours.”

“The land that not even the Centaurs want.” Alfred quietly added.

Leo’s excitement was diminished slightly. “Perhaps. But there is certainly something valuable out there. If not we’ll have removed a major adversary.”

Anton did not agree with the total genocide of the Centaur race but there was little he could do right now for so many. Without Leo’s support there was no way he could help hundreds of thousands of Centaurs. Regardless, he did not believe the Centaur’s issues were inherent to their genetics but a result of their environment; more Centaurs in a herd meant more foraged food and strength to fend off their neighbours. It was advantageous to have many children in their current situation but not once they reached more bountiful lands. Their population would explode exponentially, devastating the land and continuing a vicious cycle of exponential growth and decay.

Perhaps if they were raised like us, away from such a hostile place, things could be different. However, they’d be inadvertently taught by their elders if we just brought them along, like the Beast-kin, unless they were removed completely...I wonder if that’s how early man managed to train wolves and dogs? Not by taking in a whole pack but only their pups. Obviously their parents wouldn’t be happy, but only if they were still alive. I wouldn’t do something like that...But…

Anton watched the Centaur warherd unravel before them, unsure of exactly how to feel as he watched a might force rip itself to bloody shreds while they stood safe behind a wall, drinking wine and eating succulent food and laughing. A mocking laughter directed at their hated and foolish foe.

Volume 05 - Chapter 40 - Warmth

"Are you alright, Anton?" Verona held his hand tight. "Is the portal giving you a bad headache?"

"No." Anton returned the hold. "But my heart is a little troubled."

Kal nodded as she removed her mask. "We just watched the largest Centaur Warherds ever assembled destroy itself." Kal shook her head. "Maybe Leo was right. If just a few words from you can do that..."

"I still meant what I said. I don't have an inherent problem with the Centaurs." Anton gave Kal's hand a squeeze. "Obviously I don't have that problem."

"No..." Verona smiled. "Sorry. Please, you were saying?"

"That I clearly don't have an issue with the centaurs themselves. But our land cannot possibly support those numbers with what we have. Hundreds of thousands of Centaurs, in winter. How do they honestly expect to support such numbers in winter? Especially when we are struggling and they don’t have any agriculture...It’s going to be a disaster. There’s almost nothing to forage..."

Anton stepped forward as Cetina flashed through. Outside Rasha and a thick line of Beastkin soldiers stood ready to jump through at a moment's notice.

"The situation has been resolved." Anton did not like the tone of his own words. "So you are all dismissed and may return to your previous duties."

Cetina moved past Anton and she and Rasha began to usher the soldiers back.

“We still could have taken in the Khan.” Verona said. “But that would have just created other problems, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. The herds would have disintegrated...I don’t know.” Anton ran a hand through his hair. “Leo didn’t want to help and the Centaurs would never agree to it as it stood...I don’t think there was ever going to be a good end.”

“There must be.” Kal smiled at Calo and Sheso, leading the Dark Elf procession. They gave a tiny wave before continuing on. “Surely.”

“I haven’t found one for the Beast-kin.” Anton muttered. “Buying them from the Seocurian Empire is only going to prop them up, and it’s never going to sort out the whole slavery issue.”

“Another time.” Kal rubbed his arm. “Should we have asked Leo for something? I know we have Hardheim but that’s…”

“Perhaps another time.” Anton smiled. The last of the Dark Elves stepped out and Cetina removed a portal stone. The portal flashed and disappeared. “But I think that I have something to do first.”

“Yes…” Verona nudged Anton’s side. “Cetina told me what you’ve been up to behind our backs.”

“You disapprove? I should be the one that gets to decide who I sleep with.”

“Not at all.” Verona smirked. “I’m just glad that you finally did it. I can’t be the one doing all the work.”

Kal scoffed lightly. “Didn’t think I would be sharing a bed with my former bully.”

Rasha smiled weakly but did not protest. What happened in the past, really in a different life, deserved to stay there.

“It was a different time.” Rasha said weakly. “But...I have been better since. Much better, I think you’ll agree.”

Kal smiled. “You have. Though you can still be very stubborn.”

Rasha shrugged lightly. She had little else to say.

“So what now?” Verona asked aloud.

“I want to take a bath.” Anton said, looking up at Rasha. “And there’s someone that I think should come with me. Since we’ll probably be needing one after.”

“Ah…” Verona smirked devilishly. “Right. Right. I understand. We’ll head home then, leave you two to it.”

“Don’t take too long.” Kal’s eyes sharpened for just a moment. She pulled close to Anton and whispered into his ear. “After everything she’s done, I want to see her screaming and writhing, begging for mercy that won’t come.”

Anton gave her a quick kiss, Kal’s face hinted nothing at what she had just said, and gave Verona and Cetina one themselves before they left, leaving him and Rasha with a few portal guards.

“So.” Anton offered his hand to Rasha. “Shall we go?”

---[]---

“I haven’t been here often.” Rasha said softly, her voice echoed throughout the bathhouse. “I think...I think I’ve only used it twice since it’s been built.”

“We’re working on more than one now.” Anton nodded to the large stone water tank. “But with Earth Mana in short supply, and we still don’t know how to Node it, everything’s going to have to be built onto this one.”

Rasha slowly nodded as she knelt by the water, removed her metal gauntlet and dipped her fingers in. The Bathhouse had changed little since it had been first built by the Dwarves. There were signs it was used regularly; empty clothes baskets out of place and tiny chips on the rounded stone edges where something had struck it too hard. Thankfully it was empty, not that there wasn’t a line of people waiting to use it, to try and warm themselves during the winter, so they had a measure of privacy. Some nearby Atros guards had placed a small barricade outside and a sign saying no entry. Anton did not want someone to interrupt them. No matter who they were.

“So…” Rasha removed her hand from the water. “That’s nice and warm. Um.”

“Um?”

Rasha stood up. She towered over him, not surprising when she was over three and a half meters tall, but her face was anything but intimidating. She bit on her lower lip while gripping her hands into fists.

“What comes next?” Anton asked flatly. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah.” Rasha pulled at the loose ends of her bright red hair. “I’m not really...Sure. What happens. I mean, I understand…”

Anton took Rasha’s exposed hand, he felt the warmth and nervousness through her blue skin.

“There is no correct way, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Anton smiled. “You just do what feels natural.”

“Right…” Rasha still looked very nervous.

“But I do think that we could both do with a wash.” Anton sniffed at his shoulder. “Though I have become rather used to it, it doesn’t make it desirable. I’d love to have a bath every night but it’s just not possible.”

“Was it like that on your world?” Rasha asked, her trembling had already begun to lessen considerably.

“Actually, not for everyone.” Anton patted her hand and moved to the stacks of empty baskets. He noticed that some were very large, to accommodate the larger Beast-kin and their attire. “There were many that lived, I suppose they still do, but many lived in poverty while others lived extremely luxurious lives. Think what you had and the richest Seocurian Master.”

“It always sounded so nice.” Rasha stood next to him. “A world with some many lights and great things…”

Anton gave her side another pat as he began to remove his cloak and armour. Rasha stood still, unsure of what to do until Anton threw her a raised eyebrow. She murmured an apology and began to remove her own armour. By the time Anton had removed all but his shirt and pants Rasha was still struggling to remove her chest plate. The locking straps were far stronger and more delicate that the previous armour and her fingers were just too large.

“I think the Dwarves forgot that you might have to try and remove this yourself.” Anton placed the bundle of clothes in a basket. “Crouch down for a moment and I’ll help.”

Rasha did as she was bid, even so it didn’t feel like she was. “They got a little too focused on how good it was. But I suppose that I’m not going to be on my own, fighting that is.”

“No.” Anton began to unfasten the metal locks. “But we’ll have a chat with them tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll understand. Besides, giving them a difficult task will just make them excited.”

Rasha chuckled. “That it does.”

Anton quickly removed the metal locks, somehow it felt like they were designed for someone of his size on purpose, and freed Rasha from her chest plate. He was surprised by just how much it weighed. Rasha quickly removed the other pieces, including the frame that distributed her weight around her chest more even, and sat very nervously. Now she wore nothing more than pants and a shirt, thankfully not the same one stained with the infected milk.

“Rasha? I’ve been meaning to ask but do you think you might want some protection for your hooves?”

“Why?” Rasha slowly stood up. She pulled up her pants, not that she needed to for Anton to see her hooves, which were always exposed.

“They’re not as strong as metal.” Anton gently took her hand after picking up a few pieces of rough cloth. “And if you’re wounded then you’ll be in serious trouble.”

“But I can’t walk properly if they’re covered.” Rasha shrugged. “But I’m sure the Dwarves would love to try it...Why are we talking about this now?”

“Just a bit of light conversation.” Anton stopped by the water’s edge. “But you’re clearly more interested in what’s about to happen. Right?”

Rasha didn’t reply but her face reddened slightly.

When was the last time that I actually did this myself? Have I become rusty, since Verona’s done so much to ease things?

“Do…” Anton coughed. “Before we get into the bath I think it’s a good idea that we remove as much dirt and grime as possible.” Anton pointed to a wooden stool. “So I want to wash you before we head in.”

“But I’m just a concubine.” Rasha still quickly retrieved the stool and hurried back. Anton didn’t avert his eyes as Rasha’s body shook with every heavy step. “Surely I should be doing it for you?”

For the tiniest moment Anton wondered if that was something she was taught in the Pleasure Houses of Seocuria but he admonished himself for having such a thought.

“Nonsense.” Anton ushered for her to sit. “But I will have you do that in a bit. I just want to wash you first.”

“You…” Rasha shook her head. “Of course, Anton.”

Rasha sat with her back to Anton. Anton tapped her shoulder.

“I can’t wash you with your clothes still on. Right?”

“Right...Sorry.”

Rasha murmured another apology as she shuffled and removed her clothes. Anton found it cute that such a strong woman was so nervous. Her short tail came free, compared to most Beast-kin it was very small, but it somehow complimented her. As Rasha began to remove her shirt he quickly found a small wooden bucket and filled it with warm water. Neither said a word as Rasha removed her shirt. Anton stood behind her as she ripped the shirt free.

“Wow.” Anton murmured.

Rasha glanced back, holding the Arachnid silk shirt in one hand whilst covering her chest with the other. He silently admired her back, the powerful muscles rippled underneath her blue skin. They were not as defined as Cetina’s but Rasha had more, a lot more.

“This is incredible.”

Anton touched her back. Rasha jumped forward at his touch, her muscles quivered but she didn’t leave the stool.

“Your hands are cold.” Rasha murmured. She placed the shirt down but kept her arm covering her chest. “You need to warn me if you’re going to do that.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure my hands are warm next time.”

Anton placed the rough cloth into the warm water and began to wash Rasha’s back. The Blue Minotaur let out a pleasing moan as the hot water ran across her skin, great rivers following the contours of her powerful muscles. At first he moved very gently and slowly, ensuring that Rasha was comfortable with his touch, before scrubbing harder and near her neck. Rasha rolled her head back and forth as he essentially gave her massage across her back.

“I take it by your tail that you’re enjoying it?” Anton asked slyly.

Rasha nodded, her tail continued to sway back and forth. “Yes...It seems like you’ve had some practice at this. You seem to know exactly where to…” Rasha squeaked as he pushed on a tense looking muscle on her neck. “What to do.”

“I just do what I think you’ll like the most.” Anton began to scrub her shoulders. “Unless you don’t want me to do this?”

“Not at all.” Rasha took a deep breath. “Certainly not.”

Anton continued to wash her. It was a strange bonding experience but it was surprisingly calming. Neither said anything for some time, with only the noise of the water splashing onto the ground and his dragonoid feet touching clacking on the stone floor.

“My...My life before was very simple.” Rasha spoke softly, her head was cast down and her eyes staring at the ground. “I did what I was told, always. But…”

Rasha shook her head and wiped away a tear. “I don’t know why I’m saying this.”

Anton stopped as he began to near her chest. “You can keep going if you want to.”

Rasha placed both of her hands on her knees. Her breasts fell forward, they were definitely larger than when he cured her infection.

“Most of the time I was just a labourer. I...I think I’ve told you this before. I mainly hauled goods from one place to another. Along with whatever the Seocurians wanted me to do. Sometimes it was clear trees or till the fields.”

“I imagine that was pretty easy for you.” Anton began to wash Rasha’s arms. “These are thicker than my legs.”

Anton tried to wrap both of his hands around her biceps but could not. Rasha smiled and even tensed her muscles.

“It was.” Rasha smiled. “But it always meant that I ended up doing other people’s work. And since I have Oni blood in me, and Minotaur, it means that I’m a lot stronger than most people. Maybe...Maybe that’s why I became such an arse to so many people? I...I don’t know.”

Anton placed the cloth into the bucket and lent around Rasha. He gently cupped her chin and lifted her head towards him. Her eyes met his but she did not understand. Anton pulled her head her head closer and kissed her. Though her lips and tongue were larger than his, something he had not experienced before, she was very reluctant to do return it. When he began to scratch her ears she understood and kissed him back. Her hand gripped his shirt and held tight until eventually they parted.

“How was that?” Anton asked.

Rasha didn’t reply so he kissed her again. She was far more eager this time, her tongue wrestled with his though it quickly weakened.

“And that?”

“I...Didn’t expect it to be like that?” Rasha’s body shuddered. “Never…”

Anton glanced down to Rasha’s breasts, she was clearly very excited. “Tell me, you said that you had to milk yourself regularly.”

“I…” Rasha looked shyly down to her breasts. She squeezed one, her hands sunk deep without any resistance, perhaps even more so than Verona’s. “I have only done it once since you healed me…”

Anton continued to massage her ears. “What happened to all that milk? Did you just...Throw it away?”

Rasha sighed. “No. They collected it and gave it to the younger Beast-kin. They don’t waste anything that they can.”

Anton shook his head. “I’m sorry that I asked-”

“It’s fine.” Rasha smiled. “I kind of wanted to say it for a while...Feels strange that I feel better now. But normally it’s each of us doing it. Although…” Rasha picked up her breasts again. “I think I understand why my milk was never popular. Normally it just wasn’t used, but everyone that did said it was bad.”

“I’m sure…” Anton began to begin to wash her again. “I’m sure that it’s delicious.”

Anton tapped her arms and gently pulled them up. As the hot water began to roll over her front Rasha began to moan and whimper. It was a little put on, she quieted when he threw her a curious look, but not when he began to wash her front. He was utterly stunned by how soft her breasts were. Even though Verona and Kal’s had grown in their pregnancy they were not as soft as Rasha’s were now. He could not help himself but to dig his hands in and roughly massage her breasts, specifically on her large and hard nipples, eliciting delightfully pathetic whimpers. The whimpers grew louder as one of Anton’s hands began to become incredibly wet. He stopped, Rasha breathed harshly, and saw the thick milk drenching his fingers.

“Just a few touches and…” Anton licked away the milk. It was surprisingly thick and a little sour but still very delicious. Rasha’s eyes were wide, a mixture of apprehension and excitement. “I could get used to having this every morning.”

“I…”

Anton kissed Rasha. “Later. But I still want to have a little more fun before we get more serious.”

“Okay…” Rasha sounded like she really wouldn’t protest no matter what he did.

Anton continued until he had washed every part of Rasha’s body, from her horn to her hooves. It was an interesting experience, simultaneously tending to someone almost twice his size that could hurt him but was simultaneously putty in his hands. Cleaning her hooves was similar to Kal’s clawed feet, in a sense. They clearly weren’t human but they were still a part of a beautiful woman. He was very impressed by her stomach, and the way it had twitched to his every touch, but even more that she hadn’t protested and allowed him to do whatever he wanted. Not a single word, no matter what he did.

“Do…” Rasha ran a hand through her hair as she leant back, her breathing hot and heavy. “Is this what you do every night?”

“Sort of.” Anton took the bucket and poured it over her head. She gasped as the water ran over her body before glancing at him. “But I think that there’s something that I’d like to do for me before we head in.”

“Hmm?” Rasha forced herself out of her daze and stood upright. She smiled as her hooves clacked loudly on the stone floor. “My hooves sound like your Dragon feet. Do...Do they hurt? Now?”

“Only when they’re bound up.” Anton flexed his toes, dragging the claws on the wet stone. “When they’re free...It’s a great feeling.” He clapped his hands as he sat down on the stool. “But I would like for you to do that for me.”

“Of course, Anton.” Rasha filled the bucket of water. “Do you still bind your tail? Or has something changed?”

“Nothing has changed there. For better or worse.”

Anton removed his shirt and pants. When he first arrived in Atros he would not have had the courage to do something like this. Years on Earth, and its relative comfort, had not done wonders for his body. But in this world things were far harsher and his body reflected it. Rasha knelt behind him and touched his back. Just like she he jumped forward slightly.

“Your fingers are quite cold.” Anton laughed. “And surprisingly rough.”

“Are they supposed to be soft?” Rasha looked closely at her fingers, frowning as she saw the rough texture covering her hands. “They’ve always been like this. No Beast-kin slave is ever given something like a glove. Unless they were doing something really dangerous.”

“I suppose not. But it does mean that you’re a real hard worker.” Anton looked forward. “Not someone that’s spent all their life having things handed to them.”

“I…” Rasha stifled a laugh as she shook her head. “There are still many things that you say that I don’t understand. But I think it’s a compliment. I think.”

Rasha began to clean his tail, taking it in one hand and gently wiping at the large scales, silently cursing as the fabric became caught on the spines.

“What did everyone say when they saw you with this? When they realised it wasn’t going to go away?”

“The first thing that Verona did was try and cut it off.”

“What?”

“Just one of the end pieces.” Anton moved the smaller end pieces independently of one another. Rasha groaned at the sight. “But it regrew instantly, and that’s when I was still unconscious. After that Cetina was so worried that she’d be blamed for it. The Dwarves and Dark Elves that were there still wanted my help above everything so they didn’t say anything. I honestly don’t think they would have cared if I was just a ball of flesh that could still use magic.”

“How can you say that?” Rasha sounded genuinely confused and shocked.

Anton shrugged. “Because at that time they didn’t know me well. We were just going to help their people, didn’t matter if I was being carried. I understand it but…” He shrugged again. “But that’s life. I’m not really worried about that. Anyway, I’ve gotten used to it.”

“I see...Let me know if I’m hurting you. I’m not that confident in controlling my strength yet.”

“I will.”

Rasha silently washed Anton’s back. She did wash him a little harder than he would have preferred, but her size made it difficult to get the strength just right. Besides, it wasn’t a bad experience. When she neared his neck she began to slow. Though he didn’t look at her he knew that she wanted to say something.

“Is my tail annoying you? I can move it out of the way if you want.”

“No. No, it’s not that.” Rasha shuffled forward. “I was thinking...About the Beast-kin in Seocuria. Those that are still there…”

Not really the time to be discussing such things. Or...Maybe it is? In a place where the barriers are weaker and emotions and thoughts are allowed to flow more freely.

“We’ll save as many as we can.” Anton nodded. “But I know that you know that already. So there’s something else that you’ve thought of. A passageway into Danafra? Or a weakness in one of their walls?”

“No.” Rasha began washing Anton’s arms. “Nothing like that. The walls of Danafra are simply too large for even someone like me to do anything about.”

“We could always come in through the ports.” Anton nodded to the large warm bath. “A single ship with a portal, coming in at night.”

“If we had enough soldiers...And those weapons of yours....”

“The city could be taken in a few hours.” Anton smiled at Rasha. She didn’t try and cover herself, instead moving closer. “And thousands of Beast-kin could be freed in a single night. That’s still a very long way away now. But what are you thinking of?”

“Seems a bit meaningless now.” Rasha smirked. “But...It’s the Oni’s. I don’t think I’ve spoken much about them.”

“No. But I really haven’t asked either. For most of the Beast-kin their heritage means little to me. Unless it’s something truly drastic, like Ulyaa being able to spin an incredibly strong thread.”

"My Oni blood gives me my strength." Rasha slapped her arms, with the sound taught wet skin being struck hard. "I know that Minotaurs are very strong too but I'm a bit smaller than a normal male Minotaur, unlike Kristof."

"Yes. But there’s a limit." Anton said. "You can be incredibly strong for your size but it’s not going to matter against someone as large as you."

"True." Rasha sounded more relaxed as they continued to speak, like they were walking through the city streets rather than both naked in a Bathhouse. "But...I do know a bit more about the Oni's than I let on. At first."

Anton glanced back.

"We'd only just met you." Rasha raised her wet hands. "We really didn't know who you were...And I did try and attack you." Rasha coughed and motioned for him to turn forward. "Anyway, I know a bit about them. At least the Blue Oni's. I'm not sure if it was my father or mother that was a Blue Oni. Probably my father. Anyway, they're very strong, as you can probably guess...But..."

"But?"

Rasha leant close. "I've also heard they are incredibly belligerent and haughty. So the Seocurians keep them under a very tight watch...At least that's what I was told. Maybe their blood affected me?"

"Not in any negative way." Anton smiled. "And I like your blue skin. But...I remember Kal, or someone, saying they lived mainly in the north. Where they're used for mining precious gemstones."

"Yes. Oni's are unnaturally strong and resilient-"

"You certainly inherited that."

Rasha lightly punched him in the back. "I'm being serious here."

"So am I." Anton said flatly.

Rasha, again, did not know how to respond and continued washing his back.

"Oni's are very strong and resilient." Rasha paused, waiting for Anton to say something. "So they are used in mining. Especially in the north. Very dangerous work, down in the depths of the earth. There are things that live down there. In the darkness, in the narrow cracks and crevices. Like those Insect things that we found, below us, but much, much more frightening. At least that's what I was told. I think they're probably making them a little scarier than they actually are.” Rasha chuckled. “Make themselves sound tough and strong when they’re trying to impress women."

"Probably true." Anton laughed. "But it does give me an idea. I think it's the same one you've had but I just want to see. See what it's like being on the opposite side of one of my ramblings."

Rasha chuckled and began to wash his arms. She moved closer and pulled them into her body while she scrubbed him with a care not expected from her size.

“The Oni’s, I don’t know of all the different colours, are very important in gathering the precious gemstones. Important for the Seocurian economy, mainly for trading things abroad. Perfect so that people don’t have to dirty themselves with Beast-kin goods. Am I on the right track so far?”

“Indeed.” Rasha had moved to his forearm. She kept her eyes focused on her work, even when she was pushing his arm against her breasts.

“So the easiest way would simply be to raid the mines and free the Oni’s...But. But if they’re as belligerent as you say they may just not like Half-Breeds existing. Humans living alongside Beast-kin. And the Seocurian refugees.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t been attacked yet.” Rasha murmured. “Something bad is going to happen to them.”

“Yes...I have that fear as well. But I don’t want to have them hidden away in a little fortified corner of Atros. That would just make the more radical amongst the Beast-kin think that I want them protected over them…” Anton sighed. “Maybe they’ll have to return to Jaka, perhaps for generations to come. Until everything is settled down and time washes away the wounds.”

A silence overcame them.

“Regardless.” Anton continued. “Freeing the Oni’s, or at least disrupting the flow of precious minerals would be extremely important to defeating the Seocurian Empire. But obviously they would just send in other Beast-kin. Minotaurs or perhaps some reptile species. That’s what I would do in their position. So...We need to get all the gemstones out that we can and cause enough destruction to the mines that they can’t be used for some time. And continue to keep it damaged until we have freed all of the Beast-kin. Is that along the lines of what you were thinking?”

Rasha hesitated to respond. “Something like that.” Her washing slowed. “But I was more thinking about how to stop the Seocurians from just putting more Beast-kin to work in those mines. They’re going to work out that someone’s doing this.”

“Maybe...Maybe. Unless we convince them it’s one of them. Seocuria is an empire in name only. It doesn’t have a ruling family as such. Rather it’s comprised of the wealthiest families, backed up by powerful companies. All we need to do is use that against them. Sow some division, keep poking the flames and let them tear themselves apart. I’m sure it won’t be that easy but it’s a start.”

“Do you normally discuss these sorts of things when you’re having a bath?”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Anton smiled. “See all the ideas and thoughts that flow forth? I hadn’t given the Oni’s of Seocuria, and the gemstone mines, much thought, but now I will. I think I need to speak with more Beast-kin about what they know. It may seem like it’s not worth a lot, but you never know.”

Rasha smiled and continued to wash him. Slowly she pulled closer and closer, eventually pressing most of her body weight against him to reach his far side. Again a thought flickered through his head about the Pleasure Houses, one which he immediately dismissed.

“I’m...I’m a little worried about the puritans.” Rasha mumbled, one hand holding his back while she scrubbed his chest. “They hate Beast-kin like me, Kal, even Ulyaa.”

“I know.”

“But what about...Children.” Rasha looked down at her stomach. “Kal’s child will be a...Quarter Beast-kin. So it’ll be just as obvious. And…” Rasha bit her lip. “Should I get pregnant, I have no idea what that child would be.”

Anton grabbed Rasha’s hand and pulled her in for a kiss. Despite his best effort Rasha only budged a little, so he had to move slightly to her. She barely moved, slightly stunned by his action.

“Don’t…” Anton stopped and began to gently massage her ears. “We’ve spoken enough about bad stuff like that. Right now we’re having a bath before we head back to my house for the rest of the day.”

“But…” Rasha looked out one of the small windows. “It’s not...Oh.”

Her face reddened as she understood what he meant.

“So, we’re going to finish this. Then we’re going to have a dip into that hot bath, since it’s clear that you’re getting quite cold. Then…” Anton kissed the base of her horn, eliciting a deep seductive moan. “Then we’re going back to my home. Where you’re going to live for the rest of your life, by my side as my bodyguard and concubine. Understood?”

“Yes…”

Anton kissed her again. “Good. Now, I don’t want to be here all day. So how about we wrap this up and slip into the warm bath? It’s been reserved for us, so I don’t think we should waste any more time in this cold air, don’t you think?”

Rasha smiled and nodded, her short tail swaying back and forth with a furious energy.

This is going to be a very ‘arduous’ conquest. Like climbing a mountain. I just hope that my back is spared from any pain, I get the feeling that she’s going to get a bit wild tonight.

As Rasha began to wash him again Anton kissed her again, wrapping his arm around her waist as she began to straddle his leg and push his hand into her breasts. It would be some time before they left the Bathhouse.

Volume 05 - Chapter 41 - (Interlude) - Khan's Blood

Khan Dorgar bled profusely all over his body. Not a single piece of his lower body was not matted with blood, not all of it his, along with the dirt kicked up by their furious movements. The Khan held his spear close to his body as yet another challenger attempted to usurp the title. The corpses littering the ground should have been more than sufficient deterrence, but each attacker thought they would be the one to finally bring down the exhausted Khan.

“You too?” Khan Dorgar spat out a mouthful of blood. “You little whelp, you certainly waited until I was tired before you dared to make your move!”

Guchugur shuffled, his hooves tapping at the brown dusty ground. He did not understand the feelings welling in his chest, only that the challengers were completely in the wrong.

“Working with the humans?!”

The challenger, a large but ultimately stupid Centaur, reared up before slamming his front legs down in an attempt at intimidation. Dorgar did not even flinch.

“We never should have followed you!”

“If you want to take my herd you’ll have to take my head!”

The challenger slowly advanced, never averting his eyes from Dorgar’s. “First, you let that Mycean scum into our camp, to whisper his words into your ears. Then you return with more human lies and nonsense?! What are we to possibly think of that?”

Guchugur winced as he looked to the Qaiviel wall, stretching the full span on the border between the two mountain ranges. If Guchugur had an inkling they could finish it in such a short amount of time he would have never agreed to deliver Dorgar’s message.

He couldn’t have known that. Dorgar’s smarter than that. He would have marched the Warherds the moment he could, not try and gather his strength.

Regardless of Guchugur’s personal feelings, the challenger spoke true. The moment the possibility of an agreement with the humans left his lips his forces were undone. Nearly half the subordinate clan leaders immediately rebelled, the rest quickly scattered when it became clear there would be bloodshed. And watching them were the humans, safe behind their walls, watching the mightiest war-herd ever assembled tear itself apart because of a few words.

Maybe they have a point. They would never fight each other over something so trivial as words.

The challenger, unable to find any opening in Dorgar’s stance, and with the other gathered Centaurs quickly losing patience after his bravado, charged.

“They’re going to kill him.” A soft voice whimpered at Guchugur’s side.

Tears streamed down Togene’s face, even though she should have none left. She held her hands close to her chest, her fingers white and her skin pale, as she watched the battles unfold. Guchugur was a little glad that she had chosen to stand beside him; a pregnant Khan’s wife was a potentially lucrative prize, especially when he had become so hated. She could hardly flee. Her stomach was so large she had trouble standing, let alone how difficult the journey had been on her.

“There’s nothing we can do.” Guchugur replied softly.

Togene yanked on his arm, hard. “But he’s the Khan. They can’t kill him!”

Togene received many dubious looks, many more filled with hate.

“Not to them.” Guchugur checked his own weapons were within easy reach. “And these are official challenges to the leadership.”

Guchugur nodded to a small cluster of elderly Centaurs.

“If the Shamans say they can, they can.” Guchugur bit his lip. “And I think they’re bending the rules already. He shouldn’t have an endless stream of-”

The challenger's roar stopped Guchugur. He ran towards Dorgar with his spear tucked underneath his arm, with every intention of ending their battle with one strike. Dorgar sneered but remained still. He waited until the last moment and threw his body to one side, slicing the challenger’s guts open with a blade from a broken spear. The challenger skidded across the bloodied dirt, screaming as his entrails caught on a stone and pulled themselves out. Dorgar picked up his own spear and thrust it through the challenger’s throat before he could manage any last desperate plea.

Though he was defeated the elders merely waved the next challenger forth, another large Centaur. Dorgar put up a brave front but Guchugur knew that he was barely standing. He looked to the elders as they desperately held back their smiles.

Those old bastards think that they’ll rule the Warherd through whichever idiot finally kills Dorgar. I’m surprised that they didn’t try to get me to do it...Would have I?

Togene whimpered. How she was still standing was a mystery.

No...No I don’t think I would. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

“Come on then.” Dorgar slammed his front hoof into the ground. “Let’s get this over with.”

“We should have never listened to you.” An Elder grumbled. “You are an outsider to us, tainted by the whispers of humans-”

Dorgar mustered what little strength remained and threw his spear at the elder. It punctured through his lower abdomen and through his horse body. Despite the Elder’s age he screamed like a little girl, his body writing back and forth as his gnarled hands clawed at the blood stained spear. The other Elders back away, unable to help, as the latest challenger continued to approach. Guchugur knew of this Centaur. He was a true brute, unbelievably stupid and strong. If Dorgar was still in his prime he could defeat this challenger with barely any effort. But his prime lay scattered in the dirt and matted into his coat.

“Me kill you!” The latest challenger roared. “You stupid and weak! Me take your mate when me kill you!”

Dorgar’s anger reached new levels. Despite his unimaginable anger he managed to retain a semblance of sanity. He looked for a weapon but there were none lying on the ground, none were willing to give him one.

“You’re little more than muscle.” Dorgar licked away the blood from his mouth. “Maybe I’ll trade your meat with the humans. They look like they could use a good feed.”

The Centaur was too stupid to understand. He looked to the surviving Elders, they gently ushered him forward, completely ignoring the dying Elder.

This is all wrong...Fuck it. I’m going to spend the rest of my life fighting other Centaurs and being attacked by the Humans if Dorgar dies and those decrepit Elders get their way. That isn’t going to happen.

Guchugur lent close to Togene. “When I move, you run to Dorgar. If you don’t they’ll capture you and use you as a hostage. Don’t hesitate. Just run through the pain.”

Togene grit her teeth and gripped her fists tight. Guchugur was surprised that she was listening without asking what he was going to do.

I’ve only got one chance at this. Shame...Rutting my way across the Conflagration isn’t a bad thing. But I do want to feel grass underneath my hooves.

Guchugur took a deep breath, the Centaurs near him were too focused on the fight to notice his hands twitch in readiness. As the Challenger approached, Guchugur ripped a javelin from his back and ran as fast as he could. Togene followed, much slower than him considering her swollen belly, much to Guchugur’s relief.

Dorgar stomped his hoof onto the challengers head. He no longer had the strength to crush his skull but a satisfying crunch rang throughout the air. The javelin sticking out his back certainly didn't help things for him.

"Are you all insane?" Guchugur yelled. Togene ran to Dorgar's side and held him tight, sobbing as she tried to stem the flow of blood. "Have you all forgotten who your Khan is?"

"He's in league-"

Guchugur mentally snapped again. He threw another javelin at the Elder who had just spoken. It struck him square in the chest, he did not utter a single word before collapsing dead.

"I've still got more if you decrepit creatures want to keep going!"

Now the Elders were hesitant to send any challengers forward. Guchugur was not weak and they knew all too well just how accurate his throws were.

"I'm fine." Dorgar held Togene's hand, if only to stop her sobbing. "It's not as bad as it looks. Honestly."

It doesn't look great. A few more hits and you'd be dead.

Togene did not believe him either.

The circle of Centaurs all watched Guchugur now. None spoke, only the whistling wind of the Conflagration.

Well, this is where we die. I've had a decent...What am I even thinking?

"Is this what you do to your Khan when things get difficult?!" Guchugur waited for someone to shout back but nothing came. "Turn on him like a pack of little runts?"

"He was working with the humans!" A Centaur, too cowardly to be at the front, yelled from the safety of the crowd.

"No! He! Wasn't!" Guchugur stomped his front hooves with every word. He felt like a foal throwing a tantrum, he was in a sense, but still no one interrupted. "Khan Dorgar only wanted what is best for our kind. If he had to stoop so low as to TALK to the humans then that is what he had to do. Are you all fucking idiots or what?"

He pointed a javelin towards the wall, towards the fluttering white and green flags of Qaiviel. "Look at how far we've come. All of the herds, bar one, rode towards Qaiviel and they throw up one wall, just one, and everything falls apart. They're laughing at us! Can't you hear it?!"

Everything fell perfectly silent and the wind dropped. He could hear the echoing laughter of the Qaiviel soldiers on the wall. They were pointing and laughing, shaking their heads and slowly lost their attentiveness.

"They don't consider us a threat anymore. And I agree with them. If I were up there I would be rolling and struggling to breath at how stupid we are!"

He pointed towards the scattering Centaur herds, retreating back to the Conflagration. "They were so weak that a few words from a human king sent them scattering to the winds. Maybe they are right. Maybe we are weak."

What the fuck am I even saying anymore?

"None of you could have brought the herds together. No one has ever done that. Except for him!" Guchugur pointed at Dorgar. Though wounded he regained some of his strength. "Who else could have done it apart from him? Under his leadership there was no war, no senseless killings, everyone had food and we were prospering. And you all have the nerve, the fucking nerve, to turn on him the moment that things don't go exactly the way you want?!"

Guchugur stomped his front hoof again. "If that's how you treat someone who wanted the best for our kind, go and charge at the wall. Let the Qaiviel arrows rip your body apart and save me the effort."

Guchugur was not surprised when no one moved. Individually Centaurs could be extremely brave, even reckless, but once in a group things changed. No one was willing to move first. And the Centaur that did would become a leader.

A large Centaur stepped forward. He looked nearly identical to the stupid Centaur Dorgar had just felled.

"What do we do now?" He spoke a little faster and more eloquently than his dead twin.

Guchugur immediately turned to Dorgar. In no way did he want anyone to think he was the new Khan, especially Dorgar. It was too much effort, especially when he could enjoy just about whatever he wanted with Dorgar still as Khan.

Dorgar held Togene's shoulders and looked towards the Conflagration. "We need to return to our camp. Take stock of what we have left and plan our next move once we're recovering."

"Surely the other herds would have gone through there." A wiry female said. "They'll have taken everything."

"Possibly." Dorgar nodded. "But they won't stay there. It's too close to that thing."

Dorgar pointed to the Qaiviel wall. Guchugur was honestly shocked to see fresh stones being laid on the outside. Qaiviel was settling in for a long war.

"So they'll head further West. I think it will be safe there, for now at least."

"I just hope they didn't take all the food." The wiry female said. "We didn't strip the plants bare, as you ordered, but there isn't much left."

Dorgar silently looked at Guchugur. He had yet to tell him of his altered orders.

"We'll forage whatever we can on the way." Dorgar patted Togene's shoulders. "We will get to the green lands beyond and we will no longer be stuck in the forsaken place."

The Centaurs mumbled, many still looked unconvinced but were willing to follow as there was little alternative offered.

Guchugur stomped his front hoof. "If any of you don't agree and want to clear your own path, leave now. If you stay, you're following Dorgar to the other side of that wall."

"Wait!" An Elder said loudly. "Are you not running back to your human-"

"Kill him." Dorgar spoke without emotion.

The large Centaur shrugged, leant back and punched underneath his head. The Elder's head clicked back and his body fell down limp.

"Three of you dead in one day." Dorgar shrugged. "Not a bad start. As for the rest of you..."

Dorgar began to cough violently. No blood left his lips, Togene looked like she was about to have a complete breakdown, but Guchugur saw something leave his lips. A faint wisp of purple smoke. It disappeared only a few hair widths away but Guchugur knew what he saw. He decided to say nothing, for the moment, in case it ruined the fragile unity they had managed.

"As for the rest of you." Dorgar thumped his chest with his fist, signalling the end of his coughing. "You Elders are banished from my herd. You were too weak and cowardly to overthrow me yourself so you sent good Centaurs to their deaths." Dorgar smirked. "Sounds exactly like a human ruler. I've never met one in battle before and I've never heard of a Khan or any Centaur that has. They're always hiding behind their stone castles and walls, letting the others die first rather than having the courage to face us!"

The Elders tried to stand their ground but their trembling legs betrayed them. Guchugur wondered when they had last tasted the thrill of battle. Evidently too long.

The large Centaur nodded. Guchugur doubted if he actually understood but was likely just nodding to act like he did.

Guchugur raised his spear over his head. “You heard the Khan. Everyone that doesn’t want to stay, leave now. Follow your wretched old Elders and watch as we cross that wall and reach the other side, a land of bountiful food and safety. It. Is. Your. Choice.”

The Centaurs murmured. Guchugur wasn’t surprised when many at the rear began to disperse. The Large Centaur roared.

“You stay. All you stay!” He pointed to Dorgar. “Khan give orders. You listen.”

If it works…

Many still chose to flee, breaking into smaller groups, despite his words. The Large Centaur grumbled as he watched them go.

“You did your best.” The wry Centaur said. “Better not to have them slow us down.”

The youngest Elder spat on the ground. “You’ll regret this, Khan Dorgar. Too much of that human has rubbed off on you.”

Before Dorgar could respond the Elders retreated through the herd. Despite their age Guchugur was impressed by their speed. Dorgar held Togene and scrunched his eyes tight as the Centaurs dispersed.

“How many?” Dorgar rubbed his brow. “How many decided to leave?”

“About half.” Guchugur softly replied. “I honestly thought it would be almost everyone.”

Dorgar scoffed. He winced and rubbed a particularly bloody patch on his chest. Togene whimpered and tried to rub it, which probably only made things worse.

“I thought they would have all gone.” Dorgar took a deep breath. “Everyone. We’re returning to the camp. We can’t risk staying here with Qaiviel so close. They could try and attack at any moment. And since that mage is still there-”

Guchugur felt the heat wash over him once again, the screams ringing in his ears.

“-We must retreat. Now, Guchugur. I want you to explain something to me while we move.”

Here we go. What’s he going to say when he realises I disobeyed his order when he was still in command of all of the Warherds?

“Of course.”

Guchugur waited until the rest of the herd started moving before walking alongside Dorgar and Togene. The large and wry Centaurs Dorgar assigned as commanders, for lack of better choices at the moment, leaving just them at the rear.

“You…” Dorgar held his stomach. “Why did you not try and become Khan? You...You could have easily killed me.”

“Are you honestly saying that?” Guchugur glanced at a worried Togene. “Honestly? Because I have absolutely no idea what I would be doing. And I think you’re doing a pretty good job. And...And it wouldn’t have been right to beat you when you’re down and wounded like that. That’s what got me to act in the first place...It wasn’t right.”

“I see…” Dorgar took a deep breath. “So...Why did you change my order? I believe that I ordered you to have all of the plants harvested, not most.”

“You did not.” Guchugur clenched his fists. “I do not like Gustavo or what he had to say. It always felt like he was pushing for you do to something. Pushing for you to attack Qaiviel...Sooner or later than you should...I don’t know. But I know that harvesting every plant, after you’d spent so long to try and cultivate them, was very, very strange. So...I changed it.”

“I see.” Dorgar shook his head. “When we return to the camp we’ll have a chat with him.”

“You don’t actually mean to get his advice?”

“Gustavo seems like a good human.” Togene rubbed her back and side, towards the bloated stomach swaying between her legs. “He always had an interesting story to tell of the world beyond the Conflagration.”

Guchugur scoffed. “I think he might have been lying. Anything to stay close to the Khan.”

Dorgar raised his hand. “Regardless, we will need to find him and see what he has to say.”

“Did...Before you exiled the Elders.” Guchugur pursed his lips. “Did you feel anything strange?”

“It felt like some of my fatigue left me.” Dorgar clenched his fist. “Probably to when I killed the fifth challenger.”

Togene held his hand. “I’m so glad that I didn’t lose you. I don’t want to raise our child without you. I wouldn’t want to try and raise them without such a magnificent father.”

They shared a kiss, both ignored the blood covering Dorgar’s face as he pulled a faux disgusted face.

“But,” Dorgar lightly kissed Togene again. “I did feel better just before I exiled the Elders.”

“A swear I saw a purple smoke leave your lips.” Guchugur said softly. “Just like that wine he had.”

“I only had some from time to time…” Dorgar frowned. “We’ll find the truth when we arrive at the camp.

---[]---

The camp was an utter ruin. Everything had been overturned, burned or just simply destroyed. Guchugur was not surprised when he saw even the Khan’s tent had been destroyed. Togene whimpered at the sight. Though the Centaurs never had much to their name the small trinkets and artefacts they collected were precious.

“They even smashed the golden necklace.” Togene shakily leant down and picked up what remained of the necklace. “They didn’t take it...They just destroyed it.”

“They really hated Khan Dorgar.” Guchugur said softly.

“Can you really blame them?” The wiry Centaur female rested both of her hands on her head. “They thought that human was controlling him.”

“And what about you?” Guchugur became consciously aware of where the javelins were on his back.

She shrugged and lightly kicked at a ruined piece of cloth. “Doesn't matter to me. I don’t like Humans but Dorgar was able to keep us all fed. That’s more than enough for me.”

Guchugur accepted the answer and looked across the camp. The Centaurs that had decided to follow Khan Dorgar despondently mulled through the remains, trying to gather anything of value. He was surprised they had already managed to collect a small amount of food and miscellaneous goods. It wasn’t much but it would keep them going for a few days at least. Only a few Centaurs had remained while they marched on the wall, those too young, sick or old to properly ride with the Warherd. They had run away when the other Centaurs had come through. Thankfully only a few had died but they were shaken. None left when they discovered what happened, though Guchugur was sure it was only because they were too slow and weak to carve their own path.

“Khan!” The large, and somewhat stupid Centaur, shouted loudly at the edge of the camp. “I found the human.”

Gustavo had not been found in the Khan’s tent, nor did any of the surviving Centaurs know what happened to him. Judging by the way the large Centaur spoke it did not look good for the human.

Dorgar slowly trotted to the large Centaur, along with several of the other warrior Centaurs. Having the Large Centaur working for Dorgar was more than enough to confirm their allegiance. Dorgar stopped before the Large Centaur and sighed.

Gustavo lay dead, clearly having been trampled and crushed. His body was mangled and was missing both of his arms. Guchugur didn’t like the human but still felt that he didn’t deserve such a fate.

“No sign of who did this?” Dorgar asked.

“No.” The Large Centaur replied. “Was like this when I found him.”

“The blood is cold and dry.” Guchugur said softly. “He’s been dead for a while. Probably when the first Centaurs came through here. Probably one of the first things they did when they reached the camp.”

Dorgar knelt down to Gustavo. Though he was clearly dead Dorgar still placed his hand on his chest.

“You were a great help.” Dorgar said softly. “I will never forget that you took me in, fed me, and taught me the ways of true war and conquest, not petty raiding...What’s this?”

Dorgar began to rummage through Gustavo’s shirt. He reached deep underneath his shirt and produced a small talisman. It was not made from stone or metal, like those Guchugur expected the humans would wear, but from teeth, bone and small feathers and even pieces of skin.

“What is that?” Togene asked.

“I don’t know...But I’ve never seen it before.” Dorgar held it high. “It appears to be just an amulet, nothing more.”

“Something…” Guchugur frowned. “Something feels off about that. Like there’s something coming from it.”

“Really?” Togene tilted her head. “Looks like a normal...Thing.”

“We should ask Witch Doctor.” The Large Centaur said gruffly. “She would know what it means. If there’s any bad magic.”

“Any idea where one might be?” Dorgar asked. “We are quite close to the border with Qaiviel.”

“No…”

“I do!” The wiry Centaur said proudly. “Probably half a day’s ride along the mountain. She lives in a cave but I think she should still be alive. She is pretty old.”

“There is an old campsite near there.” Dorgar said softly. “I believe that it’s relatively safe too. That will be our destination.” He turned to the Large Centaur. “Get everyone ready to leave. Take everything of value but only what will not slow us. If another warherd decides to attack us we won’t last long.”

“I can’t move that fast either.” Togene rubbed her stomach. “I’m starting to feel unwell…” She grimaced in pain as her upper half fell forward. “It’s...It won’t be long now.”

Guchugur was certain he could see movement in her stomach. She would probably be giving birth within a few days at the very latest, quite possibly later that day.

“Guchugur.” Dorgar passed him the strange amulet. “Take this and Jiguur. Find the Witch Doctor and what she has to say...Wait.”

He knelt down and took the small flask that Gustavo always wore around his belt.

“Take this as well. I don’t know why but you said...I don’t know but check if this has anything wrong with it.”

“As you wish.” Jiguur said. “You ready to go, Guchugur?”

“You don’t order me around.” He replied. “I was the one to save the Khan.”

Jiguur scoffed. “And the one that ran from that Qaiviel Mage.”

“You…” Guchugur felt the heat from the mage’s magic. “You did not see what he did to us.”

“Do not bicker.” Dorgar said gruffly. “I need you two to find out what those are. If they are nothing then at the very least we know it’s nothing...Regardless, meet us at the old campsite when you’re done.”

Guchugur placed the fetish in a bag. Jiguur smiled, keeping her hands on her head as she bumped his side.

“How fast do you think you can run anyway?”

What the hell’s wrong with this one?

---[]---

Jiguur pointed to the cavern in the side of the mountain wall. Two large Lightning Stones floated above the entrance but were surprisingly dormant and dull, despite the others flickering bright red. A small trail of smoke emanated out but he could not see anything further in.

“Here we go.” Jiguur smiled. “She does a lot with healing and ailments.”

“Good…” Guchugur shook his head. “How much do you actually talk?”

“Why? You have a problem with a female Centaur being a warrior?”

“No.” Guchugur began to slowly walk towards the entrance, keeping an eye towards the red Lightning Stones. “But it’s just you that’s annoying me.”

Jiguur scoffed. “We’ll have a bout later. See if you’re anything more than a whimpering mess when I’m done with you.”

Guchugur stopped and looked at her. She was quite lithe, even for a female Centaur, but what little she had was surprisingly strong. During their run she had not stopped nor even began to breathe hard. Endurance running was clearly her strong point but not outright strength. She coyly shied away from his gaze.

“What sort of bout are you thinking?” Jiguur laughed. “Maybe the one where you’re on top of me? You’ll definitely lose that-”

Guchugur stopped and covered her mouth. Jiguur frowned but did not speak. He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to one side, down a small crevasse where dozens of large fruit baring plants lay. Both were very careful not to stand on any, Dorgar’s decree on their importance was not lost on them.

“What’s happening?” Jiguur quietly asked. “I don’t think that you’re about to try and rape me...Right?”

Guchugur clicked his tongue and pointed along the pathway they had followed. A small group of Centaurs slowly trudged up the path. Though neither he nor Jiguur were tired from their run these were. Five male Centaurs breathed deep breaths, their faces red, as they climbed.

“Which warherd are they from?” Jiguur lent around his shoulder, uncaring that she put most of her weight onto him. “Unlike...Unlike those Humans from Qaiviel we don’t really wear too much. Not much to tell us apart.”

Guchugur agreed, though he felt dirty for agreeing with the Humans, in a sense. However they were not from Khan Dorgar’s new warherd. They did have a small green band of cloth wrapped around their right arm. It wasn’t much but Guchugur reasoned that he wasn’t wearing anything either.

“No idea.” Guchugur replied. “But...We are not friends with anyone but our own warherd.”

“Attack?” Jiguur readied her javelins. “They don’t know we’re here. Surely we could take out at least four before they realised where we are. And if it’s one against both of us...You could take on one easily.”

Normally I would have attacked. Screaming and charging but...Something’s different. After that Mage...The dammed heat and screams won’t go away...But I’ve become more cautious. To think, that if it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have saved Dorgar.

“We should see what they want.” Guchugur still readied his javelins. “We want to know what these things are. If they want to get something, like a concoction or a potion, then we should just let them.”

“Unless they find the campsite.” Jiguur grumbled. “If they do then there could be a big attack against us. And Dorgar’s not ready. Most of the Warherds are still in one piece. It’s just ours.”

“I know…” Guchugur readied his javelin. “If I give the word we attack. Understood?”

Jiguur only returned a nod as she readied her own javelins. Despite her previous frivolity Guchugur was more than a little relieved that she knew when to act serious.

The centre Centaur raised his hand. Guchugur readied to attack.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” The centre Centaur said gruffly. “Get her and bring her back to the Khan. And don’t hurt her. She’s old and we don’t want to kill her.”

“Unless you want Khan Yesunemur to strangle you.”

“Yesunemur?” Jiguur asked.

“One of the Centaurs that Dorgar beat early on. Stupid and strong...They seem to go together more often than not. But his herd was pretty small. What could they possibly want with her?”

“The plan?”

“Wait until they’re alongside…” Guchugur clicked his tongue. “I don’t know. If we kill them and the Witch Doctor finds out she might not help us.”

“Right…”

The five Centaurs grew closer. They had not seen their hiding position, not even when they passed them completely and neared the cavern entrance.

“Go away!” A croaky voice called out. “I can smell violence and anger on your breath. Begone. I will not help you.”

What would she say when she meets me? I’ve forced myself on quite a few Centaurs before…

“We just need your help, venerable Elder.” The centre Centaur said loudly. “Our Khan needs a potion of invigoration. I-”

“If he needs help getting his cock up you should just shove your fist up his arse.” The Witch Doctor cackled. “Get out of here already. I have things that I need doing today. If the omens are right I’ll be helping a Centaur give birth this afternoon.”

“We’ll drag you to him if you don’t help us.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be happening.”

Guchugur nudged Jiguur. “Get ready.”

“Why is that?” The centre Centaur folded his arms. “Five against one?”

“Three against five.” The Witch Doctor laughed. “If you didn’t see them then there’s no hope for your Khan.”

A light deep within the cavern moved. “You two! Hurry up if you want my help. I’m old, so I’ll probably die from their rough hands.”

I’ll hit that bitch if we survive this.

Guchugur nudged Jiguur’s side. Both rose at once and threw their Javelins. They found their mark, one striking a Centaur in the chest, the other deep into his rump.

“Attack!” The Centre Centaur yelled. He had yet to draw any weapon even as the others charged.

A javelin struck the rock near Guchugur’s head, throwing up a scattering of stone and dust, but it bounced away harmlessly. They threw another, Guchugur’s aim was slightly off this time, and felled all but the Centre Centaur. He panicked and began to flee, towards a dimmed Lightning Stone. The dull red crystals flashed bright and the Centaur flashed red. He screamed as his body fell apart, all charred and burning.

Clapping emerged from the cavern, followed by cackling laughter. “That was very interesting. Well, come in. I don’t have all day. You need something from me. Yes?”

Guchugur didn’t know how to deal with such a forward woman. He and Jiguur shared a glance, shrugged and approached the cavern. One they neared the cavern became visible, like a veil had been removed from their eyes. An elderly female Centaur sat in the centre of the cavern on a thick blanket. Her wizened hands worked a mortar and pestle, grinding an orange and red stone together. Unlike Jiguur and most of the female Centaurs she wore actual clothes. It was nothing like what humans wore, rather a thick cloth like a crude shirt.

“I almost have it ready.” The Witch Doctor waved them closer. “That one’s birth is going to be long and painful, if she doesn’t have this.”

She tapped the stone pestle.

“And that is?” Jiguur frowned.

“It numbs pain and will loosen her, allowing the foal to come out easier.” The Witch Doctor smiled wickedly. “Unless you want to try it and see if it does.”

Jiguur scoffed.

“How did you know we were there-”

The Witch Doctor raised her hand. “I do not know much, only what I have been taught by my teachers, but…” She coughed lightly. “But few Centaurs come to me now, once your Dorgar became Khan.”

The Witch Doctor shrugged. “I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m no longer seeing dying baby Centaurs. But I no longer see so anyone.” She smiled at Jiguur. “When you have your first foal I would like for him to become my apprentice.”

“What are you saying?” Jiguur stomped her front hoof nervously. “I...I’m not pregnant.”

“Well, not now. But soon.” The Witch Doctor sighed. “Give me a few more moments and it’ll be ready.”

“While Khan Dorgar will appreciate you helping his wife.” Guchugur retrieved the amulet and empty wine skin. “He actually wanted you to see these. See if there’s anything wrong with them.”

“I thought that you said you could feel something wrong with them?” Jiguur frowned, pushing away the Witch Doctor’s words.

“It was just a feeling.”

The Witch Doctor clapped her hands and took them from him. She frowned as she brought it close to her old eyes. “You have good intuition then. This amulet…” She clicked her tongue. “Some very nasty magic. Very nasty. But not the way you’d think.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand.” Guchugur sat next to the Witch Doctor. “Could you please-”

She smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s harmless. It merely allows you to…How to say it correctly. It allows one to move unseen amongst certain creatures. And control them. But...The Conflagration has nothing from the Ancient Realm. Everything was created much, much later.”

“I’m sorry.” Guchugur’s ears dropped slightly. “But I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” The Witch Doctor smiled softly. “But it’s harmless to us and the Humans. Now, let’s have a look at this other thing.”

She dropped the amulet onto the ground and took the wine skin. The moment that she took it into her hands she recoiled.

“Where did you find this?” She sniffed at the edge of the skin. “Where did you find something so disgusting? So vile?”

“Gustavo.” Jiguur knelt next to Guchugur. “A human that advised Dorgar. He was killed when the Warherd disintegrated.”

“Oh…” The Witch Doctor frowned. “I thought it would have worked.” She shrugged. “This has a very dangerous powder in it. Causes a rot in the mind.”

“Oh no…” Jiguur whispered.

“Dorgar had some of this?”

“A few times…”

The Witch Doctor shook her head. “You said this Gustavo is dead?”

“Trampled to death. Very badly.”

“Then it’s fine then.” The Witch Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s a type of...pseudo magic. Very old, almost forgotten, but clearly not.”

She shakily rose to her legs. Guchugur offered to help her but she swatted his hands away.

“I’m not that old just yet.”

She slowly trotted to the far side of the cavern. A bookshelf lay in the darkness, with dozens of old, large books. She tapped her old fingers on the spines until she retrieved a book in reasonably good condition.

“This.” She sat down with a mighty thud. “This was written far before the time the Centaurs roamed free.”

She brushed away the dust of the book. Guchugur could not read but he could see the emblem on the front above the letters; a sword resting vertically on a circular shield.

“This holds records of some very old and dangerous plants and concoctions.” She opened the book and flicked through the old, dusty papers. “Ah. Here it is. Sidreadish. A very dangerous thing.”

She pointed to a picture of fruit, a blue strawberry with green seeds.

“Nasty things.” The Witch Doctor shook her head. “If the seeds are collected from a mature seed, heated until back and ground it produced a fine purple powder.” She looked closer to the page and ran her finger underneath the words. “If two people ingest the powder from the same fruit, the one that ingests the most powder exerts a subtle mental control upon the subject.”

“Is that what it says?” Jiguur raised a brow. “Sounds…”

“Pretentious.” Guchugur frowned. “Like Gustavo.”

“Worse.” The Witch Doctor continued. “The effects last until one of the two has died.”

“That’s what that fucker was doing drinking that wine. Making sure he had enough of that powder to control Dorgar.”

“But he wanted…” Jiguur rubbed her temples hard. “He wanted to get the Centaurs to the lands beyond the Qaiviel wall. Was that the Human too?”

“No.” The Witch Doctor placed her finger hard on the page. “It says it is only a vague suggestion. It cannot be used to control someone’s mind. It says here...It says here...That it could only be grown in the lands of...Administration Zone...What?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Guchugur placed both into his bag. “He won’t be influencing him anymore. I saw some sort of purple smoke leave his mouth, probably when Gustavo died.”

“It says that here too.” The Witch Doctor slammed the book shut. “But it’s time to go. I think your Khan’s wife is about to be in some serious trouble.”

“How can you tell?”

She smiled and began to place the ground powder into a small hessian bag. “You give me an apprentice, and I’ll tell you my secrets.”

---[]---

Togene’s legs kicked wildly as she screamed in unimaginable pain. Unlike most Centaurs she did not stand as she gave birth, her legs had collapsed and she lay helpless on her side. Sweat poured from her face as her whole body shuddered and spasmed. Dorgar lay by her side, holding her hand tight as she began to scream again.

“Stop screaming!” The Witch Doctor yelled at Togene. “It’s not helping.”

She knelt behind Togene and applied the ground orange and red powder between her rear legs.

“There. That should-”

Togene’s rear leg shot out at The Witch Doctor. She caught it and held it, even as Togene tried to pull it back.

“You!” She pointed to an older female Centaur. “Hold this leg. She’ll kick my head off the moment I let it go.”

“It’s because you’re making it worse.” The female Centaur said. “She should be standing-”

“If you’re honestly that stupid then you should just leave.” The Witch doctor glared at Guchugur. “If you’re not going to help you need to leave.”

“I-”

“This is woman’s work now.” She waved Jiguur forward. “Put a wad of cloth into her mouth and hold her hand. She’s going to be in a lot more pain before we’re done.” She raised Togene’s rear leg and clicked her tongue. “Poor girl’s trying to push three boulders out at once.”

“What can I do?” Dorgar, still covered in old blood, looked utterly terrified. Guchugur had never seen him in such a state.

“You…” The Witch Doctor waited until the wad of cloth had been placed into Togene’s mouth. She resisted but eventually it was forced in. “You can go out and speak with your friend. I think you two need to have a chat. I will make sure your foals are born healthy, but you two need to discuss something that affects the entire Centaur race.”

“I-”

“Go!” The Witch Doctor waved angrily. “Before I throw you out myself.”

Dorgar only let Togene’s hand go when Jiguur took his place. Togene did not notice as she continued to scream into the wad of cloth. The Witch Doctor waved other women to help her as he and Dorgar slowly exited the tent.

Dorgar, Khan Dorgar’s camp had grown considerably. Nearly everyone that had fled the destruction of the original camp had re-joined. The sick and wounded were being tended to while the warriors they had stood behind short, cut stones. The old Centaur campsite was surprisingly large and held defences more suited to humans and similar creatures. Also a significant patch of fruit bearing fruit lay behind the campsite, out of sight in a small valley. None had been touched in some time and the fruits were numerous and plentiful.

Dorgar led them to a slightly raised area away from his personal tent. “I don’t know what to do.”

Dorgar waited until Togene’s screams were faint before speaking. The Large Centaur stood below their camp and instructed the other Centaurs. Instructed was too kind a word. He shouted at them until they did what they were told. It wasn’t great but following orders was an important part of Dorgar’s vision of warfare.

“Start again I suppose.” Guchugur folded his arms. “At one stage you didn’t have anything. And then you did. So just do that again.”

“You…” Dorgar smiled. “When you say it like that it sounds so simple.”

“Isn’t it? You beat the other Khans into submission. Just…” Guchugur scratched his front right hoof on the dry red soil. “Just do that again. Simple...I only joined after you’d defeated a few Khans. And Gustavo was already with you.”

“Yes.” Dorgar seemed pleased to be speaking about anything other than Togene’s distant screams. “Yes he was. Did she find anything strange about the things? Anything strange?”

“Well…”

Guchugur did his best to explain exactly what the Witch Doctor had said. Dorgar listened in perfect silence, but his face began to fall the longer Guchugur went on.

“And that was it. Then we came here, as fast as she could move, and we could already hear Togene screaming.”

Dorgar looked to the west. Already the setting sun had obscured much of the Conflagration. As the evening began to creep every closer the Lightning Pods began to discharge their lightning onto the red desolate landscape. None hit anywhere near the camp, no Lightning Pods floated anywhere near. There was something in this campsite that kept them far away.

“I…” Dorgar softly sighed. “I thought he was my friend.”

“I’m sorry that I had to tell you this, Khan Dorgar. But you needed to know...How did you meet him?”

Dorgar folded his arms. “Where to begin. I was abandoned near the mountain border with Mycea. I was young, and a little bit stupid, so I tried to kill him and several of his friends. They were mining something in the mountains, this...Liquid silver. Anyway, it was me against twenty armoured Mycean soldiers. I still managed to beat eight but they overwhelmed me.”

“Eight armoured soldiers?”

“Not dead. But it took a long time for them to start moving again.” Dorgar smiled. “Anyway, he gave me food and medicine, didn’t bring me any closer to Mycea, but he and his soldiers looked after me while they mined in the mountains. He taught me a lot of what I know. How to conduct war, more than raids, to rule with force...Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe I wasn’t supposed to last.” Dorgar frowned. “He...He said to properly incorporate the Warherds their entire way of life would need to be destroyed, everything that united them would need to be obliterated in blood. And yet he only wanted me to beat the Khans and that would be enough...I think we saw what was supposed to happen. The Warherds disintegrated, but we were supposed to be past the border when it happened.”

“Probably when we fought against the full army of Qaiviel.” Guchugur folded his arms. “Thousands of Knights, tens of thousands of normal soldiers and mages...But we would have killed so many of the humans though…”

“Qaiviel would have been ruined for generations.” Dorgar slowly shook his head. “Ruined. They might have recovered eventually when the tribes fought against one another, after I died-”

“Just like that Mage said.”

“Do you think I should take him up on his offer?”

“That didn’t work well last time.” Guchugur softly replied.

“No. But...What do we have to lose now?”

“I think we should have more Centaurs than this.” Guchugur waved over the campsite. “King Leo could easily wipe us out if we just turned up to the wall as we are. None of the other Khans have the strength or intelligence to ride against Qaiviel. They’ll keep making walls and fortresses deeper and deeper into the Conflagration.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to lead?” Dorgar asked. “I don’t know another Centaur that would say the things that you are.”

Guchugur scoffed, he held a hand to his chest. “Some of the stuff you say has finally rubbed off on me. But, seriously. Who...Who would want Qaiviel dead? Apart from us?”

“We only want their land.” Dorgar’s eyes narrowed. “Whomever Gustavo worked for wanted them gone.”

Guchugur passed him the amulet.

“This...What even is this?” Dorgar’s shoulders dropped. “I used to be so confident. Now I know nothing.”

“So the plan?”

Dorgar took a while before he responded. “We will gather the Warherds once more. We don’t have time to get everyone but we will return to Qaiviel and discuss the agreement with King Leo. See if that Mage of his is willing to talk.”

“He seemed to have the King’s ear. Do you think he was controlling him?”

“Possibly.” Dorgar’s face softened. “But he didn’t want to kill us. That makes him the first human from Qaiviel that didn’t.”

“True…”

Togene’s distant screams stopped. Dorgar turned back in panic but Jiguur waved them in.

Inside Togene lay still, panting heavily but smiling faintly. “Dorgar. I did it. Three baby foals! I knew I could do it.”

The Witch Doctor held one three small Centaurs, swaddled in cloth. “Three baby boys. They look very healthy and of a good weight too. The only problem was they all tried to come out at once. And no Centaur can do that.”

“My entire body hurts.” Togene laughed weakly. “But...I have them.”

Dorgar moved to her side. The Witch Doctor passed the three towards them. Immediately they began to cry. She pointed to Togene’s breasts. She removed the cloth band and the closest two immediately began to suckle. The third continued to cry.

“Someone find a wet-nurse.” The Witch Doctor said. “They’re very hungry and Togene only has so much milk to give.”

“Not my fault that I’m so scrawny.” Togene gently stroked the wispy brown hair on their human heads. “It’s just the way I was born.”

“I think we should wait a few days before we do anything.” Guchugur said. “I think...Wait. One of the Warherds never submitted to you. Why not try them?”

Dorgar scoffed. He saw another young female Centaur enter the tent. Unlike Togene she had some decent curves. The Witch Doctor whispered what was wanted of her, she was not surprised, sat next to Togene and offered her breasts to the third baby. It didn’t care it wasn’t her mother and suckled happily.

“I will try my best not to listen.” The wet nurse smiled faintly.

“They were too elusive.” Dorgar gently stroked Togene’s hair. “And when we did meet them they easily defeated us. No. We need to take on the nearest Warherds and start from there.”

“Khan Yesunemur-”

“Khan Yesunemur?” Dorgar shook his head. “Then the Centaurs are doomed...But we will deal with him later. I want to spend some time with my new family.”

“Of course.”

Dorgar’s face hardened. “We’ll gather the Warherds once more, find this Mage and save us from obliteration from Qaiviel.”

“I wonder if he knows something about what Gustavo was doing?”

“Just another reason to rebuild the warherd once more.” Dorgar continued to stroke Togene’s head as she quickly fell asleep, the exhaustion from a quick and painful birth had taken its toll. “I understand why Qaiviel wants us gone...But who wants Qaiviel gone? Who wants The Shattered Kingdom to be ravaged by the Centaurs? Who? Who did Gustavo work for? And-”

One of the baby foals began to cry, cutting off any such thoughts. Dorgar quickly came to the child’s rescue and began to rock it back and forth.

Maybe the Centaurs will survive, but only underneath Dorgar’s leadership. But we need to find out who Gustavo worked for and his motives. Perhaps I should go to the Qaiviel wall and ask for the Mage? At the very least they know me.

An idiotic plan began to form in Guchugur’s head as he watched the fearsome Khan Dorgar tenderly stroke the head of Togene and one of his new children. Though Guchugur knew this would not last he wanted Dorgar to enjoy this moment. After everything Dorgar had endured he had earned it.

Volume 05 - Chapter 42 - (Interlude) - The Lands of the Vampires

Terrill softly thanked the captain for the safe journey before passing over what little remained of his money. For the first time in nearly all his life he had nothing to his name other than the clothes on his back. It was a frightening prospect but also one that was strangely relieving. He could start afresh anywhere in the world, no one was looking for him outside of Qaiviel. If he was several decades younger. And if a cold fury no longer burned in his heart.

The captain mumbled something under his breath, Terrill didn't care to ask what it was, as he left the ship and walked down the plank to the dock. His feet and body still swayed with the swell of the sea, he had been told it would take some time but it would fade.

"Now what?" Terrill asked aloud. "I didn't think this all the way through. Well, I did. But-"

Behind a sailor cursed at him to move. Terrill moved as fast as his old bones would allow, just letting the man pass with a large bundle on his back. The sailor grumbled and continued past to the port beyond.

Terrill took a moment to allow the scenery to truly sink in, nothing to do with his aching bones. A light fog covered the port, not that unusual given it was early morning, but something felt off about it. Something with the colour, a shade too blue for normal fog. The people working the dock were also strange. Compared to the unruly sailors they were beacons of upstanding behaviour and politeness. Too polite. Invisible strings pulled at their facial muscles, constantly forcing them to appear to be happy. It wasn't magic, Terrill had no way to verify that, but he had seen this before. In The Church of The Holy Father, sycophants putting on their best airs to convince a superior they were brilliant and generous, even when they and the people were breaking.

I've never seen this land before. Only the stories. They said that it was a twisted land, where the dead preyed on the living, where monstrous creatures roamed free and children abducted for vile experiments.

Terill began walking towards the port town, since he had no other idea of where to go or what to do. The fish and food on display, merrily hawked by their owners, were far better than what Terrill expected.

Should all be half-rotten and moving. But I've learnt not to trust stories. Most turn out to be lies.

A hand moved to the cross he still carried around his neck, hidden underneath his clothes should it alarm someone. He had not cleaned it since the coup in Qaiviel, yet he had not disposed of it either.

Perhaps that time will come soon. I have no money for food, and it was slim pickings on that boat.

Port guards, wearing light armour and no forced smile, quickly searched Terrill and allowed him in. He presumed they were looking for something more dangerous than a small dagger, nor what appeared to be stolen jewellery. The small necklace, the only thing Terrill had that once belonged to Lila, was firmly secured around his neck, beneath his dirty cross. It was far safer than leaving it in his pocket. Twice someone nearly stole it. Twice Terrill had witnessed a brutal beating.

Terill made but a step into the city before he was stopped. A middle-aged woman, wearing a sheer black dress that only served to accentuate her blonde hair and pale skin, wearing a small black hat, stepped out to block his path.

"Inquisitor Terrill?" Her voice was soft and incredibly cold. "Of Qaiviel?"

"And who might you be?" Terrill's resisted the urge to place a hand on his dagger. He was too weak and arthritic to use it effectively against someone, he presumed at least, to be somewhat skilled. The woman had no visible weapons but two long straight lines running along her legs underneath her dress gave Terrill other thoughts.

"My master is waiting for you." The woman's eyes glanced behind him. Four people now stood behind him, all large men wearing heavy armour and wielding menacing cleavers. The port guards were exerting extra effort not to notice. "And you will accompany us."

"Does he or you have a name?"

Terrill had read as much as he could, he knew the names of the most famous vampires, though it would do him little good against one.

The woman said nothing, unblinking staring into his eyes. Terrill knew he would not be receiving that answer anytime soon.

"How does he presume to know what I want?" Terrill looked back. "I have barely spoken a word since I left Qaiviel."

The woman smiled, a black carriage, pulled by two magnificent pitch-black stallions, crested with red feathers on their golden harnesses, gently rolled to a stop behind her. The hooded driver slowly turned to the woman but said nothing.

"My master knows many things. Things that would drive you mad if he were to merely tell you."

A bit dramatic. A few sentences couldn't drive someone mad, but it could drive them to confusion.

"I..." Terrill looked to the armoured men. Only then did he realise they had no faces, just bleached white bones with a dim red fire in their eyes. "Necromancy...There's little choice in the matter. Is there?"

A giggle escaped the woman's lips, one she immediately regretted and acted like nothing happened.

"No. No there isn't."

---[]---

Terrill barely felt the dips and small rocks as their carriage snaked its way along the single width paved road. Whomever he was to meet, they had wealth and very good taste. The blonde woman sat opposite, hands clasped in her lap as she looked outside, careful to always keep him in view. Terrill looked outside as well. The further they entered this land the stranger it became. Strange in that everything seemed perfectly normal, apart from the fog that refused to lift or burn away. Trees and shrubs grew normally, as did the animals and birds. None looked alarmed by the presence of the slightly blue fog. The few other travellers gave the carriage a wider berth the moment they saw it coming, even carts that would have a difficult time remounting the road were well clear when they passed. And the strange smiles returned.

Terrill tapped the glass window, a glass so pure and smooth at first he thought it was magic.

"Do you know who made this?"

The woman turned to him, no expression on her face.

"The glass. Who made it?" Terrill ran a hand along his legs and shuffled closer to the window. "Something of this quality would sell for many gold coins. More than that, probably. Even if just for the novelty."

"My master made all of this."

"The whole carriage? Not just the window."

The woman smiled. "When you no longer need to eat, drink or sleep, you will find yourself with considerable spare time. Better to..."

The woman coughed and resumed looking out the window. Her words wormed their way into Terrill's thoughts.

Would Lila hate me for doing that? Bringing her back to a state where she cannot die? Leo still needs to be punished for what he did to you.

Terrill wrangled with a thought that he had yet to answer properly.

Is that the only reason I'm doing this? To get revenge? And not see you alive, back, to rule the Qaiviel Kingdom just and fairly? But if I don't no one will.

"It's too late to change your mind." The woman whispered, barely noticeable above the faint racket of the carriage. "You couldn't outrun his creatures even if you tried."

"Can you read my thoughts?" Terrill tried to clear his mind but it was no use.

The woman moved closer to the window. "I could see it in your eyes. You aren't the first to try and resurrect a loved one. Many...Many change their mind just before reaching his castle. And my Master does not like his time being wasted."

"Is that what happened to you?"

For the tiniest moment, her icy facade dropped, immediately restored the next. Terrill said nothing and rested his elbow next to the window. Something moved in the thick fog, long and squat, like a snake with short, stumpy legs. It veered suddenly towards the carriage, Terrill jumped back out of shock. It was a snake, at least it was once, but it had long since died. All but a few tattered pieces of rotting scaley skin had rotted away leaving nothing more than a shambling pile of bones. Eight sets of stumpy legs, all bar two were skeletal, worked in perfect harmony to propel the creature forward. Terrill almost wretched when he realised the two intact legs were from a wolf and a human.

"Your dead love will be able to create that." The woman clearly forced herself to speak without any wavering. "No. She will be made to create it. And in time she will be made to love it." She looked Terrill dead in the eye. "I hope you understand what you have chosen."

The creature scurried back into the mist, a terrible crunch followed, as they rode in total silence.

Terrill was not sure how much time passed before the woman moved again. She bobbed her head back and forth, looking for something in the fog. For a moment Terrill thought the snake creature had returned. He wasn't sure if the reality was worse. At first, it was only a massive blotch in the fog, slowly it grew features and clarity. The carriage rode alongside a castle, the size of which Terrill had never seen before. It dwarfed the central castle of Cloussone, which was far larger than anything in Qaiviel or Bebbezzar, in both width and height. He tried to count the number of spires but quickly became confused.

"Eighty-eight spires." The woman said calmly. "And seven walls."

"Did your master build those himself too?" Terrill immediately regretted his smug sounding tone, albeit completely unintentional.

"No." The woman said nothing more.

The paved path split, one leading in into the fog, the other towards the castle. Strangely the road to the castle was far bumpier than the main road. Terrill wanted to ask but her attention lay elsewhere, at something hidden by the fog.

The carriage lurched to a halt. Terrill fell back into his seat while the woman gripped onto the seat with both hands.

"Why are we stopping?" Terrill asked. "Do we walk the rest of the way?"

"No. They are searching for any potential intruders."

"They?"

Terrill's whole body felt instantly cold and devoid of any warmth. A wispy black shadow moved past the window, a floating skull, skull, with red glowing eyes, heading a body of smoke that filled out the cloak. It stopped near the window, crouched low and searched underneath. It returned a moment later with a small diseased rat in its hands. This rat's eyes glowed with a hint of green.

"Master's rivals are always seeking to infiltrate his castle."

The smoke skeleton lifted the rat high and dropped it into its maw. It did not fall through, rather it was consumed by the smoke. Judging from the rats screeches it was not pleasant.

"To kill or to steal?" Terrill asked.

"Neither." The carriage began to move forward, much more slowly this time. "Immortal beings do become bored after a time."

Heavily armoured soldiers, like those at the port, flanked their carriage as they rode in deeper to the castle. At each of the gates they were stopped and searched. Other than the rat they found nothing. Terrill hoped that they wouldn't descend upon him the moment he exited the carriage, not that he could do much to defend himself against such creatures.

Finally, the carriage stopped for the final time. Terrill heard the cloaked driver step from his position and slowly approach the door. At least he wasn't a floating skull.

"We have arrived." The hooded driver's voice cracked and gurgled, a rotting tongue forced itself to articulate words. Terrill began to wonder if anyone inside this castle was actually alive, he had serious doubts about his travelling companion.

"Thank you, Ekil." The woman took his hand and dismounted the carriage. Her hand sunk deep into his leather glove, down to a few pointed bones pushing against the glove.

Ekil waited until the woman had exited before turning to Terrill. Though he wore a hood his face should have been visible. Instead, he was greeted by nothing but a vague black outline of a face, two glowing red eyes staring into his.

"T-Thank you."

Ekil did not offer his hand but held the door wide open until he was clear. Terrill took one deep breath, the air itself felt dead somehow, devoid of life. However, the vibrant garden beds, filled with flowers and birds, told him something else entirely. Exactly what that was he could not be sure. More armoured skeletons patrolled the grounds, more on the high walls but these all had bows of sizes no human could hope to draw. Unless they were moving they stood perfectly still. And silent.

"This way, please." The woman waited until Terrill began to follow before moving herself.

The carriage door closed, Ekil took his position and rode the horses away. Terrill kept close to her as they entered the central keep. Two skeletal guards pushed the heavy doors open, revealing the opulent hall within. Plush furniture, giant immaculate paintings and marble floors lay within. If Terrill was being honest it all looked a little garish. More importantly he saw the first living people since being forced into the carriage. Groups of servants, men and women of all ages, walked through the hall, some cleaning and rearranging furniture, others escorting apparent lords and important guests. Each servant looked remarkably similar to the woman; pale skin and wearing long black clothes. The guests wore more vibrant clothes but they too had the same pale skin, except all bar a few moved and acted like they were the most important individual to have ever existed.

"My master's other guests." The woman said softly, leading a path to avoid the groups. "Many lesser vampires seek his approval and assistance for their games and ventures. Not many are granted an audience, less receive what they want."

"And I'm that interesting to just jump to the front?" Terrill whispered.

"Indeed." The woman smiled. "You are the first human to seek his help for someone else's gain in a long time. I hope that your tale will entertain him, at the very least."

Terrill caught the attention of one of the lesser vampires. Though he knew not all of the stories to be true there was always a kernel of truth. The vampire frowned, looked Terrill up and down and began to laugh. The woman ushered him forward, turning so the vampire wouldn't see her face and silently told him not to speak.

"Another sacrifice?" The vampire stifled out between forced bouts of laughter. "I thought his fetish was young boys?"

"Remember whose home you are in." The woman did not stop, nor visually acknowledge his existence. "I'm certain my master will enjoy hearing you've slandered his guests."

"You’d better watch your ton-" The vampire stopped.

A shadowy hand gripped his shoulder, the ghostly hand connected to a floating black skull supporting a simple cloak. The empty skull stared into the vampires face. His lips trembled and sweat ran down his face.

"I-I'm very sorry." His voice was but a whimper. "I did not mean to offend you or your guests."

The smoke skull stared at the vampire, he began to truly panic, until it removed its hand and moved away. The smoke ghost had no legs but its form moved as if it still did. The vampire shuddered, his fingers flexed as he ran a hand through his hair. His eyes swivelled to check who had seen but no one was paying any attention. Except for Terrill. He glared angrily, never blinking nor breaking contact until Terrill was led through a small side door.

I've met children scarier than you.

"Please wait here." The woman motioned to a large couch, a bowl of fresh fruit and a cold glass of wine on a table beside. "My master will receive you shortly."

Terrill did as he was bid. Aches and pains lifted from his body, he hoped it wasn't magical but didn't care either way. It was the first in a long time that his bones didn't hurt. The woman bowed her head and passed through yet another door, this one guarded by another pair of skeletal warriors.

The longer that Terrill sat and thought the more a niggling doubt, that he was making a mistake, wormed deeper into his mind. However, he knew his path was already chosen. He had no resources to go or do anything else, nor any way to get more. If he died at least he would have a measure of closure.

"Terrill?" A man spoke to him.

Terrill jumped to his feet, immediately the weight and aches returned, but he wasn't greeted by a vampire. Instead a male servant, with the woman just behind. Anyone would be hard pressed to think they weren't related.

"Our master is ready to speak with you."

"Do you not want me to get refreshed?" Terrill patted down his sleeves. "I've spent some time in these clothes. If nothing else I'd like to remove the salt."

"That will not be a problem." The male servant bowed. "Our master does not care for appearance, as many here should already know, but the strength of their character. And..." The man smiled. "Truth be told, you do not smell that bad."

Terrill took a calming breath. When that didn't work he quickly sculled the poured glass of wine. He didn't have time to taste it, his calmed nerves were far more important.

The male servant opened a small door at the end of the room, different from the one he entered. The hinges barely made a sound as his slender frame pushed open a solid iron door. Beyond lay a simple dining table, comically small for the giant room it inhabited. Two seats had been prepared, one already occupied by a man similar in appearance to the lesser vampire outside. Terrill could only see the back of his head, long flowing black hair covered his skin as he looked out a massive near perfectly formed glass window.

The male servant ushered Terrill forward, throwing a glance at the woman who walked a few paces behind. Terrill's old and dirty boots clacked loudly on the immaculate stone floor, every step loosening a small deposit of dirt and stone.

"Do not concern yourself." The seated vampire spoke loudly, a commanding voice, never shifting his eyes away from the window. "It'll give the servants something to do for once. Keep them occupied, rather than spending all their time gossiping and rumour-mongering."

Neither servant gave any inclination to whether or not the man spoke the truth.

The male servant rushed ahead and pulled out Terrill's seat. Only when Terrill sat did the man turn to face him.

Terrill's breath was stripped from him. The man opposite was impossibly beautiful. Perfectly smooth pale skin, immaculately maintained flowing black hair, even his eyelashes were perfect, with a piercing set of green eyes that looked right through Terrill.

Obviously appearances do matter to him. Unless, unless this is a fake. A stand-in. A test. For all I know that male servant, or even the woman, could be the one that I seek.

"How was your journey?" Now the Vampire spoke more softly, almost like he knew Terrill a from the day he was born.

"Long." Terrill's eyes quickly flicked over the cutlery before him. All were made from gold and some white ceramic, nothing of silver.

It is supposed to be their weakness.

Terrill locked eyes with the vampire, clearly waiting for a continuation.

But I'm starting to doubt if he could be slain so easily.

"And tiring." Terrill shifted in his seat. "And I have used all of my funds to get here."

The vampire nodded, closing his eyes in deep thought. "It has been a long time since I've left these lands. It appears that customs have changed. When I was young, travellers would be offered food and lodging along their journey. Even if it wasn't the best, every house welcomed strangers."

"I imagine...How long ago was that?"

Terrill instantly regretted his words. A strange cold sensation wrapped itself around his throat, his body prepares itself to be torn asunder but the vampire merely stared out the window.

"A long time ago. A very long time. Before the third..." He smiled at Terrill. "Forgive me. I usually don't receive human guests. Most of mine already know me, but I do forget how fleeting human life truly is."

Again his face grew listful, a great longing for a distant memory. Terrill presumed it was some lover or great friend but was not brave enough to ask.

"I Drochik. The first Vampire." Beneath Drochik's predatory smile Terrill saw the tell-tale markings of a vampire, four enlarged canine teeth. "Well, the oldest surviving Vampire, at any rate."

"Why, how, did you know that I was coming?" Terrill asked. "And why did you agree to see me, when there are so many...vampires out there that want to talk to you."

Drochik's scoffed. "They can wait. And most of them are so...Boring. Absolutely boring." He slumped back into his chair. "They only want me to increase their own power in their games. Who is to be ruler of this little morsel of land? Or of this? Who do we gang up on to rip apart and share the spoils? I must admit that I too once played but once you have everything." Drochik's laughed. "What's the point in anything?"

The vampire's smile returned as he leant forward. "But it's been a very long time since a human wished to speak with me, for my help but not for their own profit or advancement. As for how I know? Let's just keep that a secret for now, shall we?"

"Can it be done?" Terrill's fingers gripped tight. "Can she be brought back?"

"Depends entirely by what you mean when you say back." Drochik's leant forward. “Are you prepared for what she would become?”

“I…”

Dorchik smiled. He reached for a glass of wine, at least Terrill hoped it was wine, and took a slow sip.

“Vampires, or Vampirism, whatever you really want to call it, is not something-”

Someone knocked loudly on the door, Dorchik sighed dramatically, drooping his head as he waved to the male servant to answer the door.

“First time in generations when I actually have something interesting happen to me and someone tries to interrupt it.”

Terrill was too nervous to say anything. He instead stared at the table, not to focus his thoughts but so he would not do or say something stupid. The servant opened the door just enough to peer his head through. He began murmuring something, Terrill glanced and saw it was the wraith creature holding a small tightly bound scroll in his hand.

“Who is it?” Dorchik did not look away from the giant window.

“Zvezdelin has a message from The Hunters.”

“Zvezdelin actually interrupted my meeting?” Dorchik raised his brows. “That’s a surprise. Bring him in. I know he won’t be saying much but I can still sort of get a read off him.”

The male servant bowed and allowed the smoky skull wraith, Zvezdelin, in. He waited until the gap was as wide as his skull, the only solid part of his body, and floated in. Zvezdelin kept his head bowed down slightly as he stopped a meter to the side of Dorchik.

“This is unusual for you.” Dorchik shuffled in his chair. “Normally you would wait for days outside, if someone didn’t let you in. Just like the last time.” Dorchik smiled. “When they thought you’d fallen asleep and left you alone until someone bumped into you.”

Zvezdelin remained motionless, his flaming eyes unblinking at Dorchik.

“Good talk, Zvezdelin.” Dorchik clapped his hands. “So where’s the message you have for me?”

Zvezdelin pointed a black smoky hand at the male servant. He stopped by Dorchik’s other side and passed over the scroll. Dorchik cut the seal with his nail, Terrill knew it was a very thick wax and shouldn’t have broken with such a dismissive movement.

Dorchik coughed softly as he read the scroll. Terrill couldn’t make out exactly what it said but there wasn’t much written. Nevertheless, Dorchik poured over the words, his eyes narrowed slightly and the corner of his mouth twitched but he said nothing. He wrapped the paper up, hard enough for some crinkles to form around his hand. He passed it back to the male servant and remained silent. Something flashed through his mind and he returned to his normal, almost jovial, demeanour.

“Children.” Dorchik smiled. “They can always find a way to...Amuse you. Not that you’d know much about that...But I’m certain you can appreciate it.”

“I did work in an orphanage for some time,” Terrill said softly. “Children always found a way to misbehave.”

Terrill hated this subject, the memoirs of what he had lost, rightfully so, tried to come back. A phantom itch afflicted his groin, one he tried to scratch but couldn’t.

“As I was saying…” Dorchik looked at the scroll. “Becoming a vampire is not something that one should take lightly. Especially when one is in an emotional state.” Dorchik leant forward and rested his elbows on the table. “You can be granted immense physical strength, even a person devoid of magic can compete with a master mage...But you never age. Have no need for sleep...Among other things.”

“Lila is already dead,” Terrill said softly. “She’s been dead for some time, murdered by her brother for the throne.”

“Exactly the problem.” Dorchik glumly nodded. “Creating a vampire requires a living human. Or...At the very least they need to be alive.” Dorchik held a finger to his lips. “Come to think of it I wonder if any of the Dwarven or Beast Vampires still live? I haven’t spoken to them in a long time. Anyway, you can’t turn a corpse into a vampire. Especially a pile of ash.”

“What?”

Dorchik smiled. “After you left Qaiviel, King Leo organised a large funeral for Lila. Instead of burying her in the royal tombs, he had her body burned and ashes kept in an urn. I thought he would have wanted those ashes scattered to the winds but even his advisors told him no, that it would be sacrligage. Or something.” Dorchik shook his head. “Seems that Leo has an unnatural fear of his sister returning. I doubt that he would think that you, a man of The Church of The Holy Father would come here, or whatever you humans are calling its latest iteration.”

“I…” Terrill’s mind was filled with the image of a dusty urn, filled with ash and tiny bones. “He didn’t even bury her?”

“No.” Dorchik sighed. “That would have made things easier. But...No. She was burned to ash. Currently, her urn resides in a secluded area of the central castle of Cloussone. It will be difficult to acquire it undetected. Not that it would be much of an issue for me, but killing hundreds of elite human soldiers does get tiring. And you never know what tricks they’ve discovered. Humans have a tendency to experiment with things they definitely shouldn’t.”

Terrill could not help but agree. Dorchik certainly knew about the Stitch Soldiers and the continued experiments, like Caiden and Harold. He wondered if they would actually be a threat to this ancient creature or would merely delay him for a few more breaths.

“So I came in vain?” Terrill slumped into his chair. “I have no money, resources or titles to my name. If I have I ask that you make my end quick-”

Dorchik laughed and raised his hand for Terrill to stop. “There’s no need to go that far. Lila can be brought back. But not as a Vampire, as she’s not alive, not as a ghoul, because there’s no corpse. Lila could only return as a wraith. Not even like Zvezdelin here. No, more like a ghost. The question is, are you prepared for it?”

“Serving a wraith?”

“She won’t be the same,” Dorchik said softly. “Returning from the other side...It does things. She will be colder, callous and far more violent than before. Suffice to say she will be a completely different person. If she’s still sane. The more degraded the body the less there is to anchor the soul to this world. And as nothing more than a pile of ash you can imagine how damaged she will be. So, do you really wish to inflict such a thing upon her? And the people of Qaiviel?”

Terrill took a deep breath. “I...I don’t know. I have nothing else to live for, after everything I’ve done I cannot let Leo get away with murdering his sister.”

“So the people of Qaiviel should suffer for what one man has done? Even if he is their King? It would be easier to send some vampire assassins rather than raise a tortured soul from the dead.”

“I…” Again Terrill fell deeper into his chair.

He was truly regretting making the journey and not dying in the flames of his hidden hideout, not that Dorchik was an unreasonable being but he was making sense. Innocents should not suffer because of one horrible man.

“I know it sounds stupid but I want to see her again.” Terrill hung his head low. “It was only a few days really, but I felt more alive than I had in my entire life.”

He looked up. Dorchik said nothing, patiently listening to his words.

“Fighting, I didn’t actually do any fighting myself, but being with her made me feel like I was actually making a difference. And...I want to feel that again. Before I die.”

Dorchik stared at Terrill. Slowly he began to smile and nod.

“Alright. I’ll help you.”

“W-What?”

“I said I’d help you. You haven’t gone senile in just a few sentences, have you?”

“No. But-”

Dorchik raised his hand. “I will help you. I will help bring back Lila from the dead. But I want something from you. Something now, and something once you have finished.”

“What could I possibly have that you could want? Apart from my body or soul?”

“I.” Dorchik laughed. “It’s almost funny that you think I want your old body for something. No. For starters, I want a demonstration. A demonstration of your commitment. You travelling across the seas to meet me, which you feared would result in death, is a good start, but want something more. Something entertaining?”

“You’re helping me because you’re bored?”

“Of course!” Dorchik slapped his legs. “Life becomes so boring after living for so long...But.” Dorchik’s face hardened. “But things are moving once more. Things that are beyond the memory of such short-lived people. Even the Dwarves and Dark Elves do not remember what is to come, but I do. And so do the Wood Elves. I will survive it, just like the last three times, but would like to not have to rebuild the castle each time.” Dorchik sighed. “It is a good chance to renovate but I’d rather not have to.”

What is he talking about? Something that could threaten him? So rare that human civilisations rise and fall between them? A battle of the Old Gods?

Before Terrill could ask Dorchik placed the scroll on the table.

“Since Lila is unable to act you will speak on her behalf. Will you become my ally and aid me in defending against The Revival?”

“I...What is that?”

“The end of civilisation and order as you know it. A force that will destroy everything in its path. An army that will break the back of even the Wood Elves or the long gone United Empire. And this will be the fourth time it has happened. Each time it becomes larger and more dangerous. This time I wish to try something different. I want allies throughout the world, and your Lila would be a fantastic start.”

I have no idea if you’re lying. You probably are. But, what choice do I have?

“So long as Lila is free of anyone’s control, I agree.”

“From my control, you mean? But I won’t control her. Takes too much effort to control her every action and thought. I don’t control any of my creations, not directly at least.” Dorchik smiled at Zvezdelin. “I just top them up with mana, from time to time. They stay because they wish to.”

Dorchik tapped the scroll. “This is my first test for you. Two acts in one. First, there is a beast in the northern mountains. It is killing the humans that live here and making lives very difficult. I don’t think I need to tell you that without humans continuing to have children and invariably dying of old age we’d eventually fall as a species. Not to mention we would run out of soldiers.”

“You want me to kill some wild beast?” Terrill raised his arthritic hands. “Me? In this body?”

“I won’t send you alone. That would be decidedly unfair. But perhaps the quick death you so desire.” Dorchik signalled the male servant to his ear. “Let’s give them a chance to redeem themselves. Both of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. They cannot remain moping around my castle forever.”

The male servant hurriedly left the room. Dorchik waited until he was gone before speaking again.

“The second is more simple, at least in theory. I have sired many children, sired after I became a vampire. Vampires find it extremely difficult to have children but with multiple attempts it is possible. Again, when you live forever you become bored.”

Dorchik slid the paper to Terrill. “One of them, one I thought that I could trust, has turned his back on me. I want you to...Convince him to return to me. I care not the method, only that results are made.”

“Surely you could bring him back,” Terrill said softly. “If you are as powerful as you seem.”

“I could. But I want to see how you perform.” Dorchik’s face hardened. “This will seem like dealing with a delightful puppy compared to what is to come.”

The piece of paper contained two maps, one crude of the Vampire lands and the other intimately detailed of a northern mountain range, two markers lying very close to one another.

“I would suggest dealing with the beast first,” Dorchik mumbled. “You don’t want to have to be worrying about my son running off during the middle of battle.”

The large door opened. The male servant entered with two children by his side, vampire children. A brother and sister judging by their appearance. Unlike Dorchik their hair was short and grey, their eyes the same piercing green as his. Their clothes were rugged, designed for long adventures but were also incredibly expensive.

“These are Brayko and Preslava.” Dorchik beckoned the two forward, the male servant remained behind. “A distant relation of mine. They were not born Vampires, rather transformed when they were young. But make no mistake, they are incredibly powerful in their own right.”

“Thank you, uncle Dorchik.” Brayko, the young boy, bowed deeply in a well-practised motion. His voice was very light and soft, befitting his physical appearance but not his true age, whatever that would actually be. “You are too kind-”

Dorchik threw his cup at his head. Brayko dodged at the last moment, the metal goblet clanged loudly onto the ground. Brayko held his bow, Preslava kept her face straight as well.

“You two haven’t earned your redemption yet.” Dorchik scoffed. “Remember that you two live at my discretion. After all the chaos that you two left...Never did find your collection. Did we? Did you dispose of them just before you were captured or do they still exist?”

“Of course not.” Preslava smiled, her thin lips pulling back in a way that greatly disturbed Terrill. “We understand how wrong we were.” A soft sigh escaped her mouth. “Only when we were shown that humans were not mere playthings did we actually understand…”

Preslava tapped her brothers' side, who remained in his bow.

“That they are not things. It sounds stupid, I know, but-”

Dorchik raised his hand. “There’s no need to peddle your prepared speech to me. I’ve heard it all before. Whether or not you believe it is up to you. But if you want to demonstrate your resolve you will help Terrill.”

Terrill felt a mild level of discomfort when the twin’s gaze fell upon him. Their eyes were raking him over, judging and evaluating him for something he could not understand.

“A human?” Brayko raised a brow. “He looks like he’s from the north. Graterious?”

“Qaiviel, actually,” Dorchik said. “But that is irrelevant to you two. You will assist him in any way he deems fit. Understood?”

“Understood.” The twins said in unison.

“Good.” Dorchik glanced to the wraith still hovering at his side. “And take Zvezdelin with you. He’ll keep Terrill safe. And an eye on you.”

The floating skeleton wraith gave no indication it heard, understood or even cared that it received such an order.

“If that is what you wish.” Brayko smiled. “But I’m sure that he won’t actually need to do any fighting.”

“I certainly hope not.” Dorchik shook his head as he turned to Terrill. “Good luck on your journey. Remember to not act foolishly. You are only human, frail and weak in comparison. If talking fails you do not hesitate to throw those two idiots into the fray.”

Brayko and Preslava smiled. Terrill still did not know what to make of them. When he turned back Dorchik refused to look him in the eye. His order had been given, it wa now up to Terrill to carry it out.

Somehow...Somehow it is a little reassuring to have a direction again.

“I will return when I have completed the tasks.” Terrill rose from the chair. “Thank you, Dorchik.”

The vampire gave Terrill a tiny nod and resumed eating his food. The wraith, Zvezdelin, followed Terill closely and without a word. The twins smiled at Terrill.

“So what is a human doing in these lands?” Brayko turned to leave. “And one that could see uncle within one day of arriving.”

“I have a mission,” Terril said. “A sort of...Redemption. For myself.”

I mustn’t treat them like children. They’re far, far older than I am.

“Wow.” Brayko laughed. “That sounds interesting. At least it’ll be something to talk about on the journey north.”

“At least the roads will be easier on our feet.” Preslava held her hands on her head. “Dorchik has been insistent on making sure the roads are maintained-”

“We won’t be using the carriage?” Terrill turned to Dorchik but Zvezdelin stood in his way. The wraith stared blankly at Terrill with its flaming red eyes.

“Did he say you could?” Brayko shook his head, a wicked smile crept over his face. “Then you won’t. Maybe you should have asked for it before you agreed.” Brayko patted Terrill’s side. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn. We did...Well, we learned to be smarter about it.”

Terrill managed a final glance back. For a moment he thought the female servant, the one that had collected him from the port, might have something to show on her face. Something. But it was devoid of emotion, like she was watching another lamb being led to the slaughter, one that she had brought to her master.

We’ll see if this Dorchik will hold true to his word...Not that I have much recourse if he doesn’t. Maybe these two might reveal a weakness only vampires know.

As Terrill walked through the door a great weight fell over him; the realisation that he was still alive, he had met an incredibly powerful vampire and survived. And that he was now working for him.

Gods only know if I’m making the right decision. If nothing else you’ll pay for what you did, Leo. You have to pay. You must pay.

Volume 05 - Chapter 43 - (Interlude) - Vampiric Teasing Games

Terrill's feet burned and ached with every step along the stone road. He had not been given a carriage or even a cart for his journey, nothing at all, not even coins for supplies.

"I think you've learned your lesson." A gentle voice spoke from his side. "Right?"

The vampire twins, Brayko and Preslava, walked either side of Terrill, Brayko with his hands resting on his head, Preslava on her hips.

"What do you mean?" Terrill only asked because the mist appeared to stretch on indefinitely, just like the road.

"When you're making deal with a vampire make sure you specify everything." Brayko smiled. Small fangs, the distinctive trait of all vampires, glistened in the dull light. "We've been alive for a long, long time. So we know how to be real shits about deals and agreements."

"One reason it always takes so long." Preslava sighed. "Unlike you humans, who just assume so much, we fight and nit-pick over everything."

"And Dorchick is no better?" Terrill glanced behind. The floating skull wraith, Zvezdelin, floated several feet behind them. No matter how fast or slow they travelled he always maintained the same distance.

So we're in perfect strike range if we mess up. Or, perhaps, if these twins try to flee.

"Since we've got a long walk ahead of us." Terrill lazily withdrew the map.

A nearby signpost indicated they were making good progress but they would not reach their destination before nightfall. Terrill was not looking forward to sleeping rough in these lands. The meter thought of sleeping under the stars brought back the memories of the harsh nights he had spent with Lila. Those brief moments of levity were replaced with anger, anger over Leo's betrayal.

"What was that?" Preslava asked. "You just sort of stopped before."

Brayko smiled. "You haven't gone senile, have you? It's going to be really difficult to complete our mission if you have."

"It would make things easier," Terrill said softly.

Neither of the twins knew of his circumstances and merely shrugged.

"Regardless...Regardless-"

"See?" Brayko frowned lightly. "You're doing it again."

"Be quiet, brother." Preslava sighed. "What were you trying to say, Terrill?"

"What sort of beast are we hunting?" Terrill checked the maps again. "He didn't say and there's nothing here but a location."

"Would the other humans consider vampires beasts?" Brayko wondered aloud. "Probably. But that's what this beast is." Brayko pulled close to Terrill, pulling his cheeks down hard with both hands. "A Horasiu. A vampire-"

"Stop that!" Preslava threw a stone at his head, one he easily dodged. "Honestly. It's so difficult to focus with him. Sometimes I can't believe I have him as a brother, especially when we're trying to talk about serious matters and you're acting like a fool!"

Brayko merely shrugged and continued pulling faces. Preslava grumbled and stared into Terrill's eyes, pointedly ignoring her brother.

"A Horasiu is a vampire that has fed too much on the blood of human children," Preslava explained. "All vampires require blood but the older one becomes the less they need and the weaker the desire becomes."

Brayko began to pout as he was being ignored. Both Terrill and Preslava made a point to not acknowledge his behaviour, it was attention that he craved in the first place.

"But new Vampires do not have that level of control." Preslava rolled down her collar.

Two small puncture wounds lay on her neck, long since healed but the scars remained. Terrill was certain Brayko was doing the same, a tiny glance from Preslava all but confirmed it but he still chose to ignore him.

"They are more wild and uncontrollable than the most deranged human. Lashing out at anything they can see in an attempt to quench an insatiable thirst."

"An insane vampire." Terrill nodded thoughtfully. "Were you two like that when you became..."

"Yes." Brayko chuckled. "But it only lasts a few days, if you're lucky. But a Horasiu continues drinking too much blood. They drown in it. Children's tastes the sweetest..."

"But if you kill the child they stop producing blood," Preslava said dryly. "Better to keep them alive, for a time."

Brayko skipped ahead. "Do you remember Amura? Those kids could scream so loud as we-"

"Brayko!" Preslava's yell was almost deafening.

Brayko quickly realised they were not alone and clamped his mouth shut. "Sorry sis."

Clearly you're no better than this beast. I wonder if Lila will become the same.

"I..." Preslava ran a hand through her hair. "We had a phase. But it's over now."

Something tells me it's really not.

"Regardless, a Horasiu has physically transformed. To a thing that doesn't even resemble the person."

"In body or in spirit." Brayko quietly added.

"They are extremely fast and powerful but they have lost the ability to use any kind of magic." ¥ smiled. "So it'll be easy for us. You just need to worry how you'll convince Dorchik's son to return home."

A silence descended upon their small group, with only the patter of soft boots and the rustling of clothes to break the monotony.

If we have to walk the entire way I might actually die. Then brought back as whatever monstrosity takes a vampire's fancy.

"Is there any way we could get a carriage, or even a cart?" Terrill asked. He even looked back to ¢. The wraith simply continued floating behind him, its flaming eyes unblinking and unmoving.

"We could steal one." Brayko offered. He scoffed at the thought a moment later. "Only if we want a horde of angry humans chasing us down."

"Are...Are you honestly threatened by a gang of humans?"

Brayko scoffed. "No! Absolutely not. But if we just kill them it'll make things a lot more difficult."

"How?"

"Vampires are not just predators." Preslava began. "We are also protectors. We defend the people and they provide us with goods and corpses."

"I'm sorry?" Terrill almost tripped on a small rise on the road. As he staggered he felt an impossibly cold hand holding and supporting his shoulder. Zvezdelin's ghostly hand extended from his cloak, far longer than a human’s but no less strong.

"Thank you." Terrill dusted his front down. Zvezdelin released his hold and continued to float behind them, like nothing had happened.

"I don't know how to grow crops." Brayko shrugged. "Nor how to cut wood, fashion stone or lay roads. That's what humans are for."

"Some vampires tried to rule through fear." Preslava continued. "They killed and butchered anything and everything."

"For some reason, the humans fled those lands." Brayko giggled. "Then they had nothing but rats and vermin to infest their lands. And were easy prey for those that treated their humans with respect. Well, there are times when you just really, really want to rip someone apart and drink their blood."

"Only criminals." Preslava waved her hand to reassure Terrill. "So most humans behave themselves."

"And without them, we wouldn't have a supply of corpses." Brayko nodded to Zvezdelin. "Even Dorchik would have serious trouble trying to make something like him without a human corpse. Well, at least a skull."

"Do you remember anything of your past?" Terrill asked the floating skull.

The flaming eyes narrowed but nothing escaped its blackened teeth. Terrill didn't even know of it could talk.

"That would be the first time I've ever seen a wraith talk to someone." Brayko smiled, resting his hands on his head once again. "That alone would almost make this trip worth it."

Terrill glanced back again at the floating skull. He was sure the flaming eyes were actually looking straight into his own but it was difficult to tell. Doubly so when the skeletal wraith never gave any outward emotion.

“How do Vampires, like Dorchik, create something like Zvezdelin?”

“Do you understand how magic works?” Brayko asked. His voice and demeanour held no malice.

“No…”

“It would be too difficult to explain how Vampiric Necromancy works,” Preslava said softly. “Necromancy is bad enough. Then you have to try and understand...No. No. It would take too long and distract you from trying to think of a way to return Dorckik’s son.”

“Any idea why he left?”

“None.” Brayko shrugged. “But I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

They continued to walk, with nothing to see in the endless fog and only their boots landing on the rough stone road. Eventually, something emerged through the fog. Terrill knew they were nowhere near their destination but anything to break up the monotony was more than welcome.

Zvezdelin floated in front and raised his shadowy hand. A cart lay before them, a wheel had broken and nearly dragged the cart into the soft dirt. Four people tried their best to lift it back onto the road but they were having little luck. Terrill immediately wondered why they hadn’t removed the goods to lighten the load.

“See?” Brayko laughed. “You wanted a cart, and now we’ve got one.”

“We’ll see if we can help and get a ride to the nearest city,” Terrill said. Brayko slowly nodded, clearly not what he originally meant. “But I haven’t seen any since leaving the port.”

“They are here,” Preslava said. “It’s the fog, it obscures nearly everything. But you’re right there aren’t many roads leading to them. Sometimes it’s best if no one knows they’re there.”

What a horrifying way to live.

“Hello.” Terrill waved at the stuck cart. “Do you need a hand?”

The four people stopped and jerked suddenly to face him. Terrill stopped in his tracks; three were human but one was clearly something similar to Zvezdelin, albeit with more flesh, rotting flesh at that.

“They don’t seem too happy,” Preslava muttered. “Though they probably think we’re going to attack them.”

“Yes...Yes, we do.” One of the human men stepped out of the shallow ditch, rubbing his hands against his thick pants. “Our wheel fell off and we’ve been having trouble getting it back on.”

Terrill tried to step forward but Zvezdelin refused to let him move. Before he could ask the smoky wraith simply pointed to something beside the cart. Poorly hidden underneath a large bush were three bodies, actual corpses that were not moving. They had clearly been hacked to pieces with axes, the same type of weapons that hanged from the three humans.

“Oh dear,” Preslava smirked. “You’re nothing more than dirty bandits. Are you crazy? You know what will happen to you when they catch you?”

“Three humans,” Brayko smirked. “You know that’s a major crime. Right?”

The undead creature pointed to the bodies. “They were already dead when we got here.” It’s wet voice was barely understandable but it spoke very slowly to compensate.

“That’s why you’re trying to save the cart rather than the bodies?” Terrill was surprised that he was actually speaking. “People are worth more than just some...What. Wood? Cut wood? That’s what’s more important to you?”

All three shared a worried look.

“Already he’s doing pretty well,” Preslava whispered to her brother. “So how about you three surrender and come-”

The undead creature pointed its hand at Terrill. A black smoke coiled around his arm, Zvezdelin darted towards the creature. The cloak moved as if he still had legs but there was nothing there other than thin wisps of smoke. The creature did not try and stop but it was too late. A smoky blade cut the undead creature perfectly down the centre. All three of the humans lunged at Zvezdelin but the smoky wraith backed away, dodging and weaving its ethereal body from every frenzied attack.

“I think it’s our turn now.” Preslava quickly unbuttoned her shirt and held it up for Terrill. “Could you please hold them? We don’t want them to get dirty.”

“O...Okay.” Terrill gently took Preslava’s shirt, followed by Brayko.

While Brayko was topless, sporting a decent build for a child, Preslava wore a type of singlet. Though she was likely many times older than Terrill she was still a woman and wanted some measure of dignity.

Zvezdelin, still dodging the three people's attacks, retreated towards them. Terrill knew that it could have killed them easily yet it had chosen not to. He presumed that it was to give the twins a chance to show off.

“Thanks Zvezdelin!” Brayko cracked his neck. “But we’ll take it from here. These Lessers aren’t worth your time.”

The smoky wraith did not acknowledge his words but darted away regardless. The three, Lessers, spun towards the twins. For a moment they looked happy, happy they were fighting children, but they quickly realised that the wraith had backed away to let them fight.

“I...” The Lesser at the rear raised his axe, holding it loosely with his thumb. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

You were more than willing when you had that creature with you.

Brayko had the same thought. “Really? Then do us all a favour and cut your own head off! Save us the trouble.”

The Lesser’s face dropped and he began to run, leaving the remaining two to fight the twins. For a moment they considered running but the Vampire Twins were upon them. Terrill expected them to fight with magic, he had never seen Vampiric magic nor had the book he had read spoke much about them, but he was a little disappointed that they fought with their firsts. They dodged the mad swing of the Lessers and struck them deep into their guts. The sickening crunch of broken bones and torn flesh echoed throughout the air.

“Pretty weak for a Lesser.” Brayko jumped back, running a hand through his hair as he bounced from one foot to another. “I don’t even need to use any magic.”

Both of the Lessers groaned, trying to stand on their feet but simply unable to find the strength. Preslava sighed, ran towards her target and kicked his head backwards. With a sickening crack the Lesser’s head flew backwards and to one side. Only the Lesser’s skin stopped his head from flying off.

“Playing?” Preslava skipped back as the remaining Lesser tried a swing at her, missing her completely and digging deep into his companion. “After all we’ve been through?”

“When was the last time we could?” Brayko smiled at Terrill. “Besides, I think he wants to see what we’re capable of. Probably thinks Vampires are worth more than just some punches and kicks.”

Preslava shrugged as she returned to Terrill’s side. “You know that last Lesser is still getting away.”

Terrill could just make out the outline of the fleeing Lesser, running through the thick fog in a blind panic.

“Umm... Zvezdelin? Can you please...Deal with him?”

The smoky wraith gave an imperceptible nod and flew towards the fleeing Lesser. He moved even faster than before, the black smoke barely contained within his cloak while none of it touched the ground.

“He seems excited.” Preslava smiled. “Come on Brayko! Show us what you’ve got!”

Brayko smirked and clapped his hands together. The remaining Lesser finally staggered to his feet, a hand held his stomach which was now slick with blood and something much darker.

Brayko ruptured his insides. He won’t survive this, even if he does manage to kill us.

The Lesser readied a shaky stance and slowly advanced. Brayko muttered something under his breath, Terrill could not understand a single word but it sounded ancient and wrong. A red mist began to coil around Brayoka, slowly condensing into a type of blade, long and thin it looked like it was capable of cutting through anything.

“So long since I’ve had to use this.” Brayko nevertheless smiled. “But Terrill deserves to see us at our best!”

The young Vampire ran forward, holding the thin sword high above his head. The Lesser swung his axe but Brayko caught it with his blade, sending both of their weapons tumbling away. The Lesser drew a small blade from his waist and thrust towards Brayko’s neck. For a moment he looked hopeful, in the way a dying man looked to strike back at his killer, but it evaporated when he realised Brayko was smiling too.

The red mist forming Brayko’s blade dissipated and coiled back to his hand, forming nothing more elaborate than a spear. He thrust the blade into the Lesser’s throat before punching him in the stomach again. Terrill involuntarily wretched at the sight of bone and a spinal fragments flying free. Brayko skipped back, proudly watching as the Lesser fell dead.

“There!” Brayko smiled as he returned to Terrill’s side. “So, what do you think?”

“I...I didn’t know how Vampires fought.” Terrill found himself frowning. “I thought there would have been more magic. Vampiric magic.”

Brayko nodded. “We can do that. But that takes a bit of time. And you saw just how effective it was. There wasn’t a need to use all of our magic on these Lessers.”

“And they are?”

Brayko stopped before reaching for his shirt, still in Terrill’s hands. He sighed as he saw the droplets of blood covering his chest but his eyes widened seeing the blood staining his fists. Shakily, he began to lick the blood from his fingers. Preslava groaned and rolled her eyes, taking back her shirt with a harsh yank, while Zvezdelin watched on in silence.

Brayko said nothing until the blood was gone, all the while his eyes were filled in ecstasy. “How long has it been since I’ve tasted blood?”

“I don’t know why you enjoyed that.” Preslava shook her head. “The blood of a Lesser is disgusting. Perhaps you’re like a dog, you can eat offal and think it’s a gourmet dinner.”

Brayko ignored her and finished licking his arms. Terrill still had no words to describe what he was witnessing. He took the shirt, gave a small smile, and hastily put it on. After giving his front a quick patdown he smiled at Terrill once again.

“So what are these Lessers?” Terrill asked, if only to distract himself from what he had just witnessed from Brayko. “Are they something like new vampires?”

“Failures, mostly,” Preslava said. “Humans, and other creatures that have been made into Vampires. Especially from a Vampire that isn’t very powerful. They have some strength…”

“But stronger than a normal human?”

“A little. But a trained human soldier could easily beat them.” Preslava shrugged. “There is almost nothing left that can suffer a severed head and survive. We are no exception.”

Brayko glanced to the cart. “Actually, there might be a way to show you some Vampiric magic. There’s nothing to haul the cart, and I’m not going to. Neither are you and Zvezdelin’s never going to do something like that.”

Brayko looked to the smoky wraith. “I don’t even think that he can.”

Zvezdelin remained motionless.

“Not unless you want him to try and make his sword push...No. That’s a terrible idea.” Despite Brayko’s words he still seemed a little interested in the possibility.

Preslava merely shook her head as they approached the cart. Much to Terrill’s dismay there was nothing more than freshly cut logs, ready for processing into timber planks, nothing worth murdering three people over.

“I agree,” Preslava said softly. Terrill doubted they could read his mind, but she had probably been around long enough to pick up on his facial expression.

“I’ll do it.” Brayko sounded less confident than before as he looked to the dead humans. “I’m sure Dorchik will understand, at the very least I’ll give them to the local Vampire. He can deal with it afterwards.”

“You can just give your creations from one Vampire to another?” Terrill ran his hand over the timber logs.

“Of course.” Brayko stopped before the dead humans. “It’s not that difficult. But turning up with three dead humans is going to cause a lot of issues. Thankfully Zvezdelin should be more than enough to make them understand.”

Is he famous amongst the Vampires, or will they simply feel some of Dorchik’s magic on him?

Brayko clapped his hands together and began to speak in the same ancient language he had before. The red mist settled over the dead humans, slowly they began to stir and twitch. A few breaths later and they shambled until they were standing. Unfortunately they were not alive, in the traditional sense. They had the same flaming eyes as Zvezdelin but slightly more dim. Brayko was nowhere near as powerful as Dorchik after all.

“Alright. They’ll pull the cart for us.” Brayko stepped to the side as resurrected humans slowly trudged towards the cart. They easily pulled the damaged cart back onto the road. “So we don’t have to worry about it. Come on. We don’t have all day.”

Neither of the Vampire twins paid the dead Lessers any regards. Already he could see movement in the fog, shadows slowly drawing closer. Creatures drawn to the smell of blood. Zvezdelin followed the twins so Terrill made sure he was close behind.

---[]---

Terrill did not know what to feel as they approached the human village. Relief, to some degree. The ride on the cart had lessened the aches and pains travelling across his body, though the cart was certainly not that well built or maintained. If he had a choice he would have preferred to keep walking, just much slower. Regardless, there was little for him to do but deliver the cart to whoever passed for leadership in the little village.

“This isn’t a particularly big town.” Preslava stood next to Terrill, resting her shoulder against his head. “But we should look towards the building with the Vampire’s Crest on top. It always houses the leader of the village.”

“And the place where they store the blood and corpses of the dead.” Brayko, sitting at Terrill’s other side, pointed to the outer buildings. “See? They’ve got a few guardians.”

Preslava snorted derisively. “If you can really call them that.”

Brayko pointed to a large wooden post rammed deep into the ground, onto which a large creature had been tied, really chained. It was little more than a horrific chaotic amalgamation of rotting body parts, held together with grotesque metal bands and pieces of bone. Compared to everything Terrill had seen so far in this land it was this that made him want to wretch. The guardian shuffled about aimlessly until they came to close. It stopped suddenly, every part of its decaying body fell completely still before it launched itself towards them. Zvezdelin readied his weapon but the guardian could not reach them. Its metal chain bit hard around its neck and caused its body to lurch to a grinding halt, the myriad of disjointed limbs and protrusions tried to fly forward but couldn’t.

“Calm down.” Brayko laughed. “We’re friendly. Right?”

The guardian gave no sign it understood or cared. Its teeth gnashed angrily while its limbs flailed wildly, some ripping at the dead flesh surrounding the metal chain around its neck. Never once did it stop its furious assault until they passed the outer wall of the town. The moment they did the creature stopped, uncaring of the wounds it had inflicted upon itself and returned to its previous behaviour, idly mulling and shifting through the foggy ground.

“Do I even want to know what that was?” Terrill muttered.

Preslava shrugged. “Every Vampire has to start somewhere. Even Dorchik was a novice, at one time. Some of the more successful failures are kept, to keep the towns and villages safe.” The young Vampire smiled at him. “Despite everything that we’ve seen there are many things that are very dangerous, even to us. Just be thankful that they only come out at night.”

Terrill tried to look up at the sun, obscured by the thick fog. He didn’t want to know just how dark it became in these lands.

The human village was far more squalid than the most of the worst villages in Qaiviel. The buildings were in decent condition but the people, the people were pathetic. All wore ragged clothes and glared at them with a mixture of terror and awe.

Must be Zvezdelin.

“Where is your leader?” Brayko asked the nearest human. He whimpered and scurried away, holding his cloak even tighter as if to protect himself.

Brayko frowned at his sister. “They’re not normally this bad. Honestly, Terrill, they’re not that bad.”

“The people in the port were a little strange,” Terrill muttered. “But these people are not well.”

“Perhaps it has something to do the beast Dorchik has us hunting?” Brayko shrugged.

Finally Terrill was able to get a direction, predictably to the largest building in the village. They didn’t even have the chance to exit before the village mayor emerged. She looked a little better, more confident than the rest.

“Greetings, esteemed Vampire Masters.” The mayor bowed low. “What brings you to our village during such terrible times.”

“We don’t make them call us that.” Brayko laughed nervously. “Some Vampires do, but they’re the strange ones.”

Terrill cleared his throat, as it was clear that the Vampire twins were going to wait on him. “Dorchik has sent us here to deal with a Beast that is haunting these lands.”

Haunting is almost certainly the wrong word.

The mayor’s body relaxed. “Then...Then you are most welcome.”

The way she’s speaking...Sounds like she’s being overly formal. Probably incredibly cautious of who she’s speaking with.

“The Beast roams the fields to the north of the village. It has killed nearly everyone trying to tend to the crops, but we are too weak to defeat it.”

“Not surprising.” Preslava muttered. “A mere human couldn’t probably deal with an empowered skeleton.”

The mayor didn’t respond.

“Very well.” Terrill began. “We will deal with this creature and make your lands safe.”

The mayor said nothing, staring unblinkingly at them. She, nor anyone else, had said anything about the zombies dragging their cart. Neither of the twins had anything to say so they directed the cart towards the north. The human villagers once again gave them a wide berth Terrill silently sighed. Everything in this land was so strange. And yet, despite his discomfort, it was the only way to get Lila back.

---[]---

“That...That was disappointing.” Brayko wiped the sweat from his brow. “Very disappointing. Probably could have done this with just Zvezdelin.”

He stood on top of the dead Vampiric beast, torn to bloody shreds and its limbs severed. Originally it looked little more than a giant human, warped with cancerous growths and an impossibly long tongue. Despite all of its terrible visage it was surprisingly weak. That alone made Terrill far more worried than anything the beast could have done to them.

“I thought it would actually pose a challenge.”

“It did.” Preslava spat on the ground. “But we’ve been through worse.”

Terrill sat in the cart, too terrified to move or respond. The beast had attacked them but a few moments after leaving the village. Zvezdelin remained next to him but hovering nearby with his shadowy sword drawn.

“So…” Brayko jumped from the dead beast's head, not before giving it another slice with his strange vampiric magic. “Did Dorchik say this was meant to be a serious test of our ability?”

“He…” Terrill gripped his hands tight. “He said it would be impossible for me. That it would be some sort of test...But I don’t understand what he wants me to do.” Terrill waited until both had returned to the cart. “Said it was something to…”

“So long as it’s dead.” Preslava reached out and took back her shirt. Her singlet had become covered in blood, not that she seemed to mind. “Then we can move onto the next thing.”

“I still don’t understand.” Terrill held his head in his hands and rubbed his wrinkled face up and down. “What was the point of this?”

“Dorchik has many peculiarities.” Preslava put on her shirt, uncaring of the blood underneath. “But he doesn’t lie. Brayko? What do you make of this? Zvezdelin isn’t…”

Brayko still stood at the dead beasts head. He peered close at something lying between the beasts' destroyed eyes.

“What do you have, brother?!”

Brayko raised his hand, telling his sister to be quiet. She threw Terrill a bemused look before impatiently tapping her boot on the ground. Brayko cut deep into the beast's skull before stepping back with a smile on his face.

“That’s why it was so easy.” Brayko laughed as he returned to the cart. “There was this little guy feasting on his mind. That’s why he was so weak, poor thing could barely think.”

“Poor?” Preslava raised a brow.

Brayko held a small wriggling creature between his fingers. It looked surprisingly like a centipede but with more pincers and antenna.

“And this…”

“I don’t know who made it.” Brayko smiled, he knew but refused to say. Terrill presumed that it was Dorchik, somehow. “But it’s been there for a while.”

He glanced back to the dead beast. “Otherwise it would have taken out the entire village. No way this thing would have just been lingering on the outskirts.” He pointed to its chest. The skin had collapsed but even so, it was clear the creature had not eaten much for a long time. “It’s starving. That’s why it was so easy to kill.”

Preslava spat on the ground. “Another one of Dorchik’s little tests.”

Terrill glanced at Zvezdelin. As ever the smoky wraith did not move or show any emotion.

“But…” Preslava shrugged. “Nothing more that we can do now. Suppose we should go to the next task. What was that again?”

“Finding his wayward son.” Brayko winked at Terrill before clambering onto the cart. “I’m sure that’ll be fun.”

“Shouldn’t we alert the village that everything’s safe again?” Terrill tried to look towards the village but the fog was simply too thick to see anything more than a faint glow.

“No.” Brayko chuckled. “They didn’t even offer us anything, not even food, for our good deed. Nothing. Like it was expected. Besides, they’ll find the corpse soon enough. I’m sure they’ll sell it to some aspiring Vampire for a decent amount of money.”

“Remember when we were like that?” Preslava laughed. “Those were...Interesting times.”

The twins began to laugh and reminisce about their past, leading the zombie driven cart forward. Terrill simply watched the beasts corpse slip by in silence, knowing full well that his involvement was worth less than nothing. Dorchik was testing him for something else, beyond what he simply stated before. Terrill wondered what it could possibly be. It certainly wasn’t his mental fortitude or martial skill. Perhaps it was simply being gullible enough to agree to a Vampires bargain? He dared not ask the twins with Zvezdelin present.

---[]---

“This is the place.” Terrill checked the detailed section of the map once again. “At least...I think it is.”

“You honestly can’t feel that magic?” Brayko frowned. “I can feel so much of it, and yet you can’t?”

“I don’t have any magic,” Terrill said softly. “None. I’ve been checked, and I don’t have any.”

Brayko gently rubbed his chin, only for a moment before turning his attention to an errant speck of dirt that had somehow stuck to the collar of his expensive shirt.

“When...When we were still human, we didn’t have any magical power. But after gaining these bodies…” The young vampire glanced at Terrill. “Perhaps you should consider becoming one of us too, before it’s too late. Your body may be old but the transformation-”

“Brayko.” Preslava gently sighed. “There’s enough time for that later. Right now we need to deal with this.”

Brayko quickly agreed and focused on what lay before them, a modest house seemingly built in the middle of nowhere. The everpresent fog surrounded the house, just like it did everywhere in these strange lands, but it was somehow lighter. Dead trees and bushes lay everywhere, like something had ripped the very life from the plants. Even some of the dead creatures appeared to have suffered the same fate, their glowing eyes having been snuffed out and their bodies withered.

“No point in waiting then.”

The moment Terrill took a step forward Zvezdelin raised his smoky hand to bar his way. Terrill did not think the creature, such as it was, would ever do something in jest or to be annoying. It didn’t want him to take a single step further. When he looked down it became painfully clear; the dull grass had died a few feet before them, forming a perfect line, a circle all the way around the house.

“Some...Some sort of life-draining field?” Terrill murmured aloud.

“Of course it is.” Brayko began to frown. “But that’s...Normally a spell that Vampires use. Life drain.”

Terrill looked down at Brayko.

“It’s not very imaginative.” Brayko clicked his tongue. “But it’s not an easy spell, nor has a very large range. Normally it’s barely a foot or two, three at the most. This is clearly much, much larger.”

“Far too large.” Preslava clicked her tongue, almost identically to her brother. “It’s like he’s channelling it through something. But what, I don’t know. What could possibly be compatible with Vampiric magic? I’m sure the human nations haven’t been working on anything like that. We haven’t left our lands in generations...Vampire generations.”

The door to the house creaked open. A dim orange light leaked out, it too looked like it was somehow being drained of life, of strength. A young man emerged, wearing simple and well-worn clothes. Despite the distance, Terrill immediately knew he was a Vampire.

“Hello.” Terrill waved, feeling that they all knew why they were here. “May we speak with you?”

The young man sighed and slowly approached. Terrill was extremely glad to see that the land did not die around them, but he could not shake a chill feeling running down his spine. Zvezdelin appeared to be slowly growing more annoyed as the young man approached, even pushing back on Terrill’s chest.

“Of course.” The young man spoke with a gruff voice, unbefitting his fine and delicate features. “I mean no one any harm.”

“Well, that is good news.” Terrill smiled at the Vampire twins. Neither appeared to have much faith in his words. “We have come-”

“I know that my father has asked for you to bring me back to him.” The young man sighed. “But I fled to these lands to be rid of him. I do not mean him, or anyone in these lands any harm. So I do not understand why he has sent someone to collect me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Especially a human. A human without magic, armour or any sort of weapon.” A faint smile crept over his face. “Do you think that you can talk me into coming with you?”

“I...Was hoping that you would.” Terrill took a slow, deep breath. “But...But I must. I have someone that I must help. And following Dorchik’s instructions is the only way.”

“You could help me escape,” Koshelev said flatly. “Away from these lands. I’m sure that I could easily help you.” He smiled, but something within Terrill was deeply unsettled by it. “If it’s material wealth I can procure it.”

Terrill glanced at Zvezdelin. The smoky wraith said nothing, somehow Terrill doubted it would just let him betray his master, or whatever relationship they actually had.

“It’s far more than that,” Terrill said. Koshelev’s eyes wandered away from Terrill towards the track they had originally taken. “Far more than that. She was betrayed by her brother, someone she foolishly trusted even after everything I said to warn her. And I will bring her back.”

“Seems foolish to me.” Koshelev’s frown continued to deepen. “You seem like you could find a better master, though I know that word isn’t appropriate.”

“So will you come?” Brayko asked. “Dorchik already knows where you are. He gave us a map after all. It was very accurate...”

“Two Vampires and a Black Smoke Wraith...” Koshelev clicked his tongue. “I think I might just be able to win this.”

“I don’t think so.” Preslava began to unbutton her shirt. “But-”

Terrill placed his hand on her shoulder. She stopped and glanced up at him, like a beggar had just touched a Queen.

“We do not wish to fight.” Terrill began. “But whatever your issue is with Dorchik I’m certain that it can be amended.”

“Are you serious?”

Terrill smiled. “Absolutely. Absolutely. Family is very important. I lost mine...Twice, really. But I know that if they were still alive I wouldn’t want to be hating them, living in fear or hiding in the wilderness, waiting for some punitive strike from someone who is probably just as terrified of being hurt as you are.”

“You clearly don’t know my father very well.”

“No. I don’t. But I know what drives people.”

Is this actually having any effect on him?

“That they want to be loved and to love.” Terrill took a slow breath, hoping his words would sink in, at least a little. “So...Please come with us. If you willingly return I’m sure that Dorchik would see you in a better light. I know anyone would.”

Koshelev still seemed hesitant to agree to anything. However, a faint rattling had made up his mind for him. Out of the fog a large carriage emerged, far larger than the carriage that had taken Terrill to Dorchik. Behind the four horses sat a human driver and two skeletal crossbowmen, covered in thick armour with only their jaws showing. On each corner of the carriage sat an armoured humanoid torso, seemingly bolted to the roof and unable to move other than twisting. Those too had loaded crossbows which they pointed outward into the fog. As they lacked a head Terrill did not understand how they could see or hear but knew the Vampires would not overlook something so obvious.

“He expected...” Koshelev shook his head. “He must have sent this straight after you left. They are comfortable but not fast.”

The human driver, for now Terrill was going to presume it was a human, tipped its hat towards him as the carriage quickly came to a halt.

“Terrill, I presume?”

“It is.”

“When you are ready.” The human driver nodded at the nearest armoured torso. “We will return you to Dorchik’s castle at all possible speed.”

The armoured torso placed its weapon down, leant over the edge of the carriage and unfastened a specially designed lock before opening the door. It remained perfectly motionless as it held the door open.

Koshelev shook his head once again. “Is he trying to impress me?”

“Seems like he wants you to come back.” Terrill gestured to the carriage. “And he wants you to come back safely and in comfort.”

Koshelev ran his tongue over his vampiric teeth. Terrill briefly wondered what they would feel like, so long and sharp. He would probably be biting his tongue more times than not.

“Alright. It seems that my father isn’t going to let me live in peace.” Koshelev turned side on to his small house. “Is it alright if I finish up before I go? I don’t want anything to go wrong while I’m away.”

“Of course.” Terrill paused. “You wouldn’t want your house to burn down and set this forest on fire. Especially...”

I haven’t asked about the dead grass and trees. Would asking about that ruin what we’ve done? I get the feeling it might. Brayko and Preslava didn’t seem to be worried when he approached us.

“I won’t be long.”

Koshelev briskly walked back to his house and closed the door. Preslava made a face at Terrill.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Just letting him go? He could be trying to cast some kind of magic.”

“Or run away,” Brayko added. The young Vampire frowned and stepped closer to Terrill. “Did you actually mean any of what you said? About family and all that nonsense.”

“I do.”

Because it’s what people always screamed for when they were dying, either in the battlefield or under the torturer’s blade.

Koshelev emerged but a few moments later. He rubbed his hands with a rough piece of cloth, removing the water covering his hands.

“There were a few more things that I needed to take care of.” Koshelev stepped over the dead boundary. Zvezdelin continued to keep himself in front of Terrill. “But I’m all done now.”

He stared at the carriage and sighed once again. “I wonder if my father will say more than hello to me. That would be a nice change.”

Terrill shared a worried glance with Brayko and Preslava. Perhaps the family was truly beyond repair. But there was only one way to find out.

---[]---

The carriage finally rattled to a halt before the outer gates of Dorchik’s castle. Koshelev had said nothing since he had been captured, silently looking out into the everpresent fog. Brayko had tried to get something more out of him but the Vampire simply ignored him. Terrill knew the look, he had seen it far too often. The look of resignation, accepting the inevitable. Though Dorchik had asked for Koshelev to be returned to him he did not understand why it was such a terrible fate.

“Here we are.” Brayko smiled at one of the Wraiths that floated by the glass window, the creature’s skull slowly rotated as it drifted past. “Home...Well, it’s not for us. But I’m sure that it’ll be yours. Right?”

Koshelev softly sighed, his eyelids dropped slightly as he leant into his seat.

The Wraiths moved away from the carriage and it began to roll forward once more.

“It took him an age to build this.” Koshelev looked through the glass window to the highest of the stone spires. “All by hand. Every piece, even the tools.” Koshelev smiled. “Every piece...It’s incredible. Really.”

Terrill continued to feel more than a little conflicted about bringing Koshelev back, but Terrill had something greater in mind. Already his thoughts were turning to Lila and what should be done about Leo. Would it be enough to simply remove Leo and place her on the throne? Or would she want something more, being brought back from the dead and changed, according to Dorchik? Terrill simply had no idea, his thoughts remained unanswered as they stopped at the final gate.

The door slowly creaked open and the woman stood just beyond. Terrill smiled, he didn’t know why, but it was not returned. Just like Koshelev he did not know what relationship she had with Dorchik. Considering that he was an incredibly powerful vampire, if not the eldest in the world, he seriously wondered if he wanted to know.

“Let’s get this over with,” Koshelev grumbled.

Dorchik waited within the castle, dining at his long and extravagant table. Terrill glanced at Brayko and Preslava. Neither had eaten anything during their brief time together, yet Terrill had only seen Dorchik eat, only a small amount, admittedly, but he was always eating.

“You’ve returned.” Dorchik continued looking towards the large clear glass window. “Far sooner than I thought you would. Less than a day, actually.”

“You were waiting for us,” Terrill said. “The carriage was not ours. It simply emerged from the fog.”

Dorchik waited until they were within his sight before speaking. “I didn’t wish to wait forever. Besides, this was merely a test of your determination, rather than anything.”

Honestly, it feels like you get enjoyment out of seeing me struggle. But you have lived for...I don’t even know how long. Is that the only thing that interests you anymore? Seeing people dance about? Perhaps you’ve seen everything else.

“I did surprisingly little-”

Dorchik waved him down. “Don’t be too critical of yourself. You didn’t flee and you managed to talk him into returning. That deserves some recognition. Strength is easy to come by, after you’ve lived as long as I have you’ll know that, but a...Strength of character is far more rare.”

Terrill didn’t know if Dorchik was playing with him, he almost certainly was in one form or another, but Terrill let it slide. There was little else that he could do.

Dorchik’s attention quickly shifted from Terrill to Koshelev. The two locked eyes and the room suddenly felt very cold. Dorchik softly sighed and beckoned the young vampire closer.

“Fa-”

Koshelev’s head fell from his shoulders. His entire body fell limp and to the ground. Dorchik’s sharp knife, once slowly cutting a succulent piece of steak, now remained embedded in Koshelev’s neck, clattering loudly as he head hit the floor and rolled about aimlessly.

“I must improve my aim.” Dorchik waved a servant closer. A few droplets of blood had stained his face. “I normally would do so much better. Don’t you think, Zvezdelin?”

As ever the smoky wraith said nothing and stared blankly and unmoving at Dorchik.

“I must find a way to make you more communicative.” Dorchik pulled his chair forward. The servant offered a fine white silk piece of cloth, Dorchik mouthed a silent thanks and wiped away the blood. “Might actually have someone intelligent to talk with.”

“Why did you do that?”

For a terrifying moment Terrill thought the words had escaped his mouth but Dorchik raised his brow towards someone behind him. Brayko stood dumbfounded by what had just occurred, his jaw open and his vampiric teeth wet from his gasp.

“Why?” Dorchik frowned. “What do you mean, little brat?”

Brayko’s former shock rapidly vanished when he realised just whom he was speaking with. “Wasn’t he your son? And you sent us all that way to get him for you?”

“Yes. He is, was, my son.”

Dorchik frowned at Koshelev’s body. He whispered something to the servant, who bowed and scurried away.

“But he was also killing humans. Lots of humans. Far too many for my liking.” Dorchik shook his head and returned to his dinner. “Even you two didn’t kill that many before I grew annoyed.”

“Really?” Now it was Preslava’s turn to look incredulous. “But he said he wanted to get away from you...”

Dorchik leant into his chair. “I take it you two understand the concept of lying, no? Did you actually look inside that house of his? If you had you would have discovered the hundreds of small skulls, infant skulls. Among other collections. A few things you two are all too familiar with.”

Preslava fell incredibly silent, her body slightly collapsing in on itself to make her presence smaller.

Just how many people did you two kill? And why did it upset Dorchik more than his own son...

Terrill paused. He looked at Koshelev’s body. The death of a vampire was surprisingly easy and quick, nothing like the drawn out battle they had endured against the robbers. Either that, or Dorchik was that powerful that a normal vampire simply couldn’t compare.

Maybe this was truly a mistake...Too late to back out now.

“But you have done what I have asked.” Dorchik smiled. “The beast is dead, and so is my murderous son.”

Four servants emerged, carrying a large silvery cloth between them. Brayko and Preslava angrily barred their teeth while Zvezdelin backed away. Without a word or an kind of ceremony they placed Koshelev’s head and body into the silvery cloth. The moment it touched the fabric the skin began to blister and boil. A thick smoke emerged but Terrill could not smell anything, no moke or the repugnant odour of human flesh. All four bundled the parts together and left without saying a word.

“Silver can still work wonders on a vampire.” Dorchik smiled at Terrill. “Even though Silver cloth is extremely expensive to make, it can well be worth the investment. Even a little small handkerchief is more than enough to down most Vampires and our creations. Something to keep in mind should those around you get too rowdy.”

“This...” Terrill coughed lightly. “Is nothing like what I was expecting.”

“If it was I would be most interested to hear why.” Dorchik chuckled. “But, again, you have hold true to your end of our little agreement. And provided me with a small measure of enjoyment.”

Dorchik delicately placed his cutlery onto the table. “First, you must find Lila’s ashes. Brayko, Preslava and Zvezdelin will travel with you, since there is no possibility of you making it there on your own.”

“How will Zvezdelin travel with us without causing a riot?” Terrill asked. “Any human city would rally their entire might if they saw him.”

“It’s very difficult for steel spears and arrows to do much to a wraith.” Dorchik smiled. “But there are ways for a wraith to move undetected. Zvezdelin? Could you show them please?”

Zvezdelin gave the first sign of a word, perhaps a weak ethereal grunt, before his smoky body began to transform. It collapsed towards the floating skull until it was nothing more than a black sphere. It floated towards Terrill and slipped into the small pack on his waist. Terrill was most surprised that it didn’t weigh anything, rather than something as powerful as Zvezdelin was essentially resting beside his hip.

“See? Only a very talented Mage would discover Zvezdelin. However, know that he cannot attack or defend himself when he is like that. He is strong but...It takes time to shift from one form to another.”

Zvezdelin acted only on Dorchik’s behalf. As do the twins, in their own way. I must be careful that I don’t say anything too negatively about him, unless I want my head separated from my shoulders. Just like Koshelev.

“I hope that we won’t need him, but I fear that we will,” Terrill said. “So long as Lila returns I’m not truly bothered about what I have to work with.”

Dorchik nodded slowly. “I understand. Brayko and Preslava will provide you with the funds necessary to return to Qaiviel.”

“We will?” Brayko asked softly.

“You will. Otherwise you can join Koshelev. You two still owe the people a great debt. Remember?”

“Of-Of course.” Brayko nervously giggled. “I was merely asking. I’m sure that we have something that can sell for some gold and silver. Right? Sister?”

Preslava nodded, but her usual confidence had disappeared.

“I look forward to hearing of your success.” Dorchik turned his attention to his meal. Though Terrill had known him for a very short time he knew it was his way of saying the conversation was over.

“Bring back her ashes,” Terrill muttered to himself. “That doesn’t sound too difficult.”

He glanced at Dorchik, who completely ignored them. The blonde female servant, who Terrill still did not know the name of, silently ushered them out.

“So what’s the plan?” Brayko asked, looking over his shoulder to Dorchik. “He might have said that but we don’t actually have that much. A few trinkets...And I seriously doubt Zvezdelin has anything to sell.”

The black sphere remained motionless in the bag.

“We’ll figure it out. First we need a ship and a captain that’s willing to take us. You two definitely look like Vampires.”

“And to any outsider it would look like you’re a creepy old man kidnapping two beautiful young children.” Preslava’s words were not matched by her tone. She kept most of her attention focused behind, to where Dorchik continued to delicately cut his food.

“Perhaps.” Terrill clicked his tongue. “But we will have to deal with that when the time comes. Nothing can be done about it now. We just need to find the fastest ship that we can.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Brayko rested both of his arms on top of his head, returning to his normal gait and demeanor. “We’ll just get some more money in Qaiviel...Still feel bad about Koshelev. Do you think he knew what was going to happen?”

Terrill glanced back to Dorchik. The tiny stain of blood on the otherwise immaculate floor was already being attended to by yet another servant. Terrill wanted to say something, about how harsh this Vampire society was, but he had done and ordered worse. Much worse. He did not answer Brayko’s question as they left Dorchik as he stared through the giant glass window in perfect silence.

Volume 05 - Chapter 44 - (Interlude) - Sally's Deadly Deed

“Are you there, Sally?” Mihal’s voice echoed throughout Sally’s room. “Ghenadie says that he wants to speak to you.”

Sally barely heard his words as he looked out towards the north, towards the only semblance of civilisation in the endless snow. On some early mornings she would swear that she could see wisps of smoke. And smoke meant people, people the cultists hated.

“Sally? Where are you?”

Sally stood outside the tower’s room, just before the low balcony on top of a large box. Her hands sunk through the continuously falling snow. Strangely, she could barely feel it.

“I’m…” Sally took a deep breath. “I’m outside.”

Mihal entered the room and he poked his head about. He smiled when he finally laid eyes on Sally, skipping merrily towards the door.

“Why are you outside?” Mihal asked. “It’s really cold out here. I thought you liked it warm? Is the fire not enough? We could always get you more firewood if you want.”

“I’m fine.” Sally forced a smile. “I just wanted to look at the snow.”

As Mihal moved to Sally’s side she looked down, down towards the cluster of buildings containing the tar and pitch. After discovering the horrific things in the vault Mihal had shown Sally the buildings containing the tar in an attempt to cheer her up. Sally had been more than surprised when she was led to multiple warehouses filled with pitch and tar. Mihal had misinterpreted her smile for genuine happiness, he did not find it odd that she was seemingly excited by barrels of sticky black goo.

“Did the Goblins end up splitting up the barrels of tar?” Sally asked. “Just like I said?”

Mihal nodded. “They did it. But I don’t understand how it’s going to make the buildings warmer. I mean…It smells funny. But some of the rooms do seem a little warmer now.”

“See?” Again Sally forced a smile. “It’s a great idea. And did they make sure the tar connects one building to the next? It’s very important that it does.”

“Yes.” Mihal smiled. “Only because it made you happy. You seemed so upset after we went to the vault. I thought it would cheer you up.”

Mihal nodded to the large painting hanging in the corner of her room. It was a beautiful painting but it did nothing for Sally’s mood. Though the cultists had not spoken a word about what they had been moving into the vault she knew it involved her, and not in a good way.

“You…” Sally coughed softly. “You said something about Ghenadie?”

“Yeah. He wants to see you.” Mihal shrugged. “I wish I knew more about the ritual. I really want to help more but they won’t tell me. Don’t you think that’s rude?” Mihal scoffed. “I’m going to be doing so much and yet they don’t want to tell me anything. So…So…”

Mihal stopped when he realised Sally was not listening. She stared blankly into the snow, towards the north.

I don’t know what Ghenadie wants with me…Does this mean it’s time? No one has learnt of what I had Mihal do. No one has really left the castle to deal with them…But Mihal…He isn’t just going to let me go…And then there’s whatever they’re doing to him…

“Mihal?”

“Yes?”

Sally glanced over the edge. The tower was extremely high, so high that it was hard to make out where the roof ended and the ground began.

“How high do you think we are?”

“Really high.” Mihal replied, as if it was merely a matter of fact.

“Like how high…What is that?”

Sally pointed towards the ground. “Do you see that?”

“What?” Mihal peered over the edge.

“It’s right there.” Sally pointed at nothing, a vaguely darker patch of snow. “Can’t you see it?”

“Are you teasing me?” Mihal leant further over the railing. “This feels like you’re teasing me.”

“No.” Sally laughed. “Why would I do that? But are you teasing me? What do you mean that you can’t see it?”

“I can’t.” Mihal raised himself onto the very tips of his toes. “Why can’t I see it?”

Sally stepped back. Mihal didn’t notice as his body rocked back and forth. Beneath him the box creaked but Mihal still didn’t notice. He grumbled as he could not find what she was looking at, even as she stood behind him.

I’m sorry, Mihal. Maybe we could have been friends.

Sally ripped the amulet from his neck. Mihal made a confused sound as he looked down. Sally grabbed Mihal’s legs and lifted with all her might.

But not this time!

Mihal did not realise what was happening before it was too late. He twisted as he fell over the railing, a hand flailing at Sally and grabbing her hair. She fell forward and slammed her chin into the railing.

“Sally?! What are you doing?”

Sally said nothing. The pain of having her hair almost being ripped from her scalp was so great it brought tears to her eyes. She leant over and began to punch his hands.

“Please! I’m going to fall!”

Sally punched his hands until Mihal’s hands slipped through her slick hair. Mihal screamed as he fell, quickly becoming a tiny screaming dot against the perfectly white snow. He struck the roof far below, smearing the snow in blood, then dropped to another and another before finally crashing into the ground below. Though he was now nothing more than a tiny speck Sally watched the red slowly begin to spread through the white snow.

"I...I killed someone." Sally felt the bile rise in her throat. "There's no going back now."

She clutched the amulet tight and ran for the door.

---[]---

Sally's shoes slapped loudly onto the stone floor, echoing through the empty stone staircase. She never thought she would be a murderer, that she would, could, actually kill someone. But her life depended on it. A pang of regret flowed through her veins but Mihal would not have let her go. Though they were friends he was still loyal to these cultists and his insane grandfather, Ghenadie.

"Find a stable." Sally whispered to herself. "Light the tar on fire and head north. Just do that and I'll be fine. It's easy. I just need to do it."

Sally stopped and gripped her chest. Again the pang of regret washed over her but there was no way back. Not now. She took another deep breath and continued down the stone staircase.

Which door do I take? The front entrance is guarded by cultists.

Sally ran her hand across the vile amulet.

But the Goblins shouldn't stop me with this.

The clanging of hammers striking metal began to grow louder as Sally continued to descend.

Maybe...Maybe through there. If there aren't any people...

Sally stopped at the door and peered through the cracks. Goblins continued to work over the forges, just like last time, but the Red and Black were nowhere to be seen.

"Either this will work..." Sally slowly pushed the door open. "Or it won't."

A wave of heat and noise washed over her. She scrunched her eyes, reflexively to try and shut out the noise, but it was no use.

Here we go.

Sally took a deep breath and began to walk straight through the smithy. The Goblins looked up, curious as to what was casting a shadow over them and looked straight at Sally. For just a moment Sally saw the seething hatred in their eyes, an anger that came from deeper than their heart. The next breath it faded, replaced by a forced happiness. The Goblins smiled, their skin around their lips pulled back unnaturally, before they returned to their work. Sally stood silent and still, waiting for the illusion to break. But it held.

Okay...Okay. I don't feel anything different but they hate that they don't attack me. How does this amulet work? I...I need to keep moving.

Sally walked through the searing forge as calmly as she could. She watched the Goblins throw their finished work into piles of crude weapons and armour plates. A group of Yellows hauled the full chests away, replacing them to be filled with the endless stream flowing from the forges.

Someone must know of what's happening here. Someone must be warned...Oh no. I forgot about the patrols.

A group of armoured Black Goblins moved along the centre of the forge, glaring angrily at the Goblins working the forges. Sally had no idea if the amulet would work on them but she could not flee without drawing massive attention. While she was frozen still, and still trying to think of what to do, the Black Goblins looked at her. Just like the Goblins manning the forge there was a moment where she saw nothing but anger, gone the next as they were forced by something to smile and act happy.

What is this amulet?

Sally moved around the Black Goblin patrol. They watched for a few more breaths before continuing with their patrol. She breathed easier when she reached the end of the forge. The door swung open, Sally darted behind a nearby forge and watched. Another patrol of Black Goblins emerged and walked towards the other. Thankfully they left the door slightly ajar. Sally took a deep breath and darted through. She did not look back as she ran, not knowing where she was really running. While she was walking with Mihal she had a rough idea of where to go but she had not travelled through these halls. She slowed, so her footsteps would not echo like she was running for her life, which she was.

“Don’t run. Walk.” Sally muttered. “Just act like you know where you’re going...And avoid people.” She touched the amulet again. “Goblins don’t seem to be a problem.”

Sally followed the wooden hallway, always fearing that another patrol lay just beyond. Or worse, behind her. She checked the few doors that were open but found nothing other than weapon supplies and armour. Her heart continued to drop as she counted the immense number of simple weapons that had been gathered.

Steel doesn’t burn...I don’t think I’ll have time to set fire to this place. I should have asked Mihal to move some in here.

Sally reached the end of the hallway. The air grew cold and snowflakes floated through a small open window at the top. She was so close to freedom. She gripped her fingers around the amulet and looked through the cracks. Snow greeted her, nothing but snow. No Goblins stood guard, at least as far as she could tell, and everything was still and silent. She crouched and stepped into the snow.

“Why is it colder here than up in the tower?” Sally rubbed her shoulders. “I need something warmer than this.”

Sally returned to the castle and scoured the nearby rooms. On the third attempt she found a room filled with old clothes. Though they were old, tattered and smelt funny, they were more than enough to keep her warm during the long ride to the north. She pulled them tight around her and exited once again. Now there was something outside, a group of Goblins patrolling the snowy grounds. They kept their heads down, the snow gathering on their helmets and cloaks, and did not look towards Sally as they continued their patrol.

They haven’t found Mihal yet. There’s no way he could have survived...Do they not patrol near there? The moment they find him, what’s left of him, they’re going to be searching everywhere for me.

Sally quickly recognised where she was. It was an old courtyard near the northern side of the central castle, thankfully not far from the stables. She gripped the clothes tight to her chest and hurried through the snow.

Thankfully no one spotted Sally, or if they did they thought she was just a cold Goblin seeking distant warmth. The few Goblins patrolling the walls were more interested in staying warm than doing their job, perfect for Sally. As she neared the first gate she began to slow. The large metal gate was closed and Goblin guards stood nearby, huddled around a small fire but present all the same.

Do I just tell them to let me through?

Sally touched the amulet.

That's all they seemed to do.

Sally straightened her back as she approached. The Goblins eventually took notice but not until she was but a few feet away. They initially regarded her with suspicion rather than outright hostility, at least until the amulets effects took hold and their stances softened.

"Hello."

Sally clamped her mouth shut. For a moment she had forgotten what she was speaking with. The Goblins did not appear to care either way.

"I need to get past."

The Goblins looked at one another.

"Do you understand?" Sally had not originally intended for her words to sound so demanding.

The Goblins looked at one another, shrugged and began chittering amongst themselves. One began screeching louder, a Black Goblin, and a much smaller green trudged through the small stone door. The gate began to groan as one side began to open. When the gap was large enough for Sally to slip through she took her chance and ran through. None of the Goblins followed her, nor tried to speak as she passed. Once she was clear the door began to close.

I made it! These amulets are really...So I can order them to do anything?

Sally began to walk towards the stables, a large intact building in the distance. Her eyes fell on a sticky patch of black on the nearest building. The sticky tar collected a frosting of snowflakes but not enough so it was hidden. She checked the streets for movement, nothing moved other than a few inattentive Goblin patrols, and looked behind the buildings. Just as Mihal had said the backs of the buildings were covered in tar and were connected to one another by a thin line.

Find a torch and set it on fire. There will be so much smoke they won't even know I'm gone, not until I'm far, far away.

Sally's fingers brushed against the amulet.

They'll try to put it out...What if I tell the Goblins to kill anyone trying to put out flames? Would that work? Maybe just tell them to stop anyone else from putting out the fires.

Sally took another deep breath and briskly walked towards the stable.

Someone will discover what you're up to and they'll stop you...I just hope that you're in a better place now, Mihal. I'm sorry that I had to do that but...But there wasn't any other way. They were hurting you just as much as they plan to hurt everyone else. And I'm not going to let them do that.

---[]---

Ghenadie stared at Mihal's mangled corpse. The Goblin guards had found him, covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. Thankfully they had not tried to eat him, since he no longer had an amulet, but it wouldn't have mattered either way.

"Ghenadie?" A high ranking cultist reached to touch his shoulder but held back at the last moment. "Ghenadie? The fires are still burning."

"Then why haven't you put them out yet?" Ghenadie surprised himself by how calmly he spoke. "Is there something that you want me to do to try and stop a firestorm?"

Ghenadie looked out the window. Thick, black smoke obscured everything, except for the flickers of flame erupting through.

"If you think I can personally stop these flames then you are more than welcome to."

The man stepped back and lowered his head. The few other cultists were leaders in their own right, from all over the world, but right now they were paralysed by the flames still burning outside.

They've spent generations doing nothing, while we labour tirelessly to try and bring back Trellos. Fitting that they don't know what to do in a crisis. Even the wrong thing! At least something.

"The fires are contained within the inner walls." A woman spoke loudly. "They will not spread beyond. So long as the pitch does not travel that far."

Ghenadie slowly turned towards Eluria. The Strega Witch had been strangely quiet, respectful almost, as she stared at Mihal's body.

"Pitch?" Ghenadie took a final look at Mihal before turning away. "What are you talking about?"

"The smell. I know what burning pitch and tar smells like. And the air is full of it. There are also lines between the buildings of burning pitch. You can't see it now, thanks to the smoke, but it's there."

Ghenadie began to pace back and forth.

Is it her? No. She's helping us for her stupid revenge fetish. It would only undo her work. No...Who could have done this?

A low ranking cultist ran into the room. He kept his head cast low as he approached Ghenadie.

"The stables have been raided." He whispered to Ghenadie. "We have tracked down all of the horses except for one."

"I imagine it was eaten by a hungry pack of Goblins." Ghenadie took a deep breath. "But you wouldn't be coming to me with this if it was that simple, now would you?"

"No. Some of the Goblins saw a young child riding the horse towards the north." The cultist winced. "Apparently they ordered the guards to open the gates and they obeyed."

"Who..." A rush of anger flowed through Ghenadie. "That little Graterian bitch. The tower..."

Ghenadie took another long breath, so he would not shout in anger.

"Where is the girl? She was supposed to be brought down to the vault for the next stage of the ritual."

"It honestly took you this long to realise that?" Eluria could not hide the pervasive smugness in her voice. "Honestly. I think I should just convince the Orcs or Clansmen to attack. That would be easier than this."

"You knew?"

Eluria slowly shook her head. "He was killed by the fall. Sally is locked in a very tall tower and someone small, about her age, managed to escape to the north. Need I say more?"

Ghenadie raised his finger but hesitated to speak.

It's so obvious...I should have realised that...What is wrong with me? It...It must be her. She's interfering with my head! There's no other possible reason why I wouldn't have come to that conclusion. She needs to go. She's too big of a threat to keep with me any longer. But, she may still have some use, now that Sally's gone. The Partner needs to have considerable mana in their body, like Sally, or...

"No." Ghenadie coughed softly. "No you do not."

Eluria looked rather pleased with herself.

Just you wait.

"Send out riders after her." Ghenadie told the still bowed cultist. "If you haven't done that already."

"We have. But we have still to hear back from them. We fear that she still has an amulet and can simply order them to return."

"One little girl cannot travel far in such weather." Ghenadie slowly nodded. "Send out our fastest. If you haven't already."

"I told you to destroy Atros before the winter." Eluria said. "She must have seen smoke from the city, the rapidly growing city I might add, and decided to flee to the north. If it wasn't there she wouldn't have had any hope of escape."

Ghenadie did not argue with her logic. Certainly with hindsight it was the better move but they had yet to truly establish themselves in Surdon. And if Atros launched a successful attack it could set them back generations or even destroy them, if their Mages were as strong as Eluria claimed.

"Unfortunately...It is pointless to think of such things now." Ghenadie sighed softly and held the young cultist's shoulder tight. "Go and get the Red. I want to speak with it."

"Understood."

Ghenadie leant close to his ear. "Bring every Elite we have. A Witch is not easy prey."

The cultist bowed his head furiously and ran towards the door.

"He'll do well, one day." Ghenadie chuckled. He looked to the window, the smoke was beginning to thin. "Since the fires are out, or what has burned has already burnt...Can you so anything for him?"

"Me?" Eluria stepped forward. "I'm a Strega Witch, not a necromancer. And even if I was I could not bring him back as he was. I have seen their magic and it is...disturbing, to say the least."

"I don't care if he's a little bit different, only his body matters."

Eluria smiled. "I honestly thought you cared for your grandchild. He seemed to love you."

Ghenadie shrugged. "We all have sacrifices to make. But is there nothing you can do for him?"

Eluria approached Mihal's corpse. Ghenadie waved the others back.

"I can...preserve his body. Keep it from rotting, even out of the snow."

"What do you need?"

"I thought you needed him alive for the next stage of your ritual?" Eluria gently brushed away the bloodied snow from his face. "So you would want him moving and not just be a pile of flesh."

"To be fair I didn't think we'd get this far. No one ever has. But...That's why I needed the girl. She plays a very important part in the next step."

"I wonder why she fled." Eluria muttered. "I can't imagine why."

"Can you do that at least? Please? Spare no expense. We will pay you and give you whatever you want if you do. It is very important to us."

Eluria's hands hovered over Mihal's body. Her eyes narrowed as she looked up. She clicked her tongue and began to speak under her breath. A thick, green smoke, emerged from her hands and wrapped itself around Mihal's body. While she continued to mutter the door opened and the Red Goblin, with a diminutive arm, lead almost a procession of heavily armoured Goblins.

Perfect timing.

Ghenadie signalled for the Red to move quietly. This Red Goblin was unique in that it was not only intelligent but obeyed his orders without the need of an amulet. The Red disseminated the order and the Goblins moved unbelievably quietly, far more quietly than what any normal person would expect.

Eluria's green smoke receded. Her brows were deeply furrowed and her hands trembled with exhaustion.

"His body is safe." Eluria rested her hands onto the table. "It will no longer degrade or rot, for the foreseeable future. There will be a point where it needs to be done again but not for some time."

"Thank you." Ghenadie waved the Goblins to hide in the shadows and crouch low. Eluria had yet to turn around. To stop her he stepped forward and stood next to her. "I know that we...What's wrong?"

For a moment Ghenadie feared Eluria had discovered his intent and that he was standing so close there was no way he could dodge her attack. Nothing on her face betrayed a feeling of imminent threat. Quite the opposite. She stared into Mihal's dead, glassy eyes, forever locked towards the sky.

"Anger...Fades, over time." Eluria muttered. "Especially when it won't get her back."

For a despicable witch you truly loved your daughter.

Ghenadie waved the silent Goblin horde forward. The few cultists stood still and allowed the Goblins to move around them.

Keep her talking, about anything.

"You...You mentioned her before." Ghenadie spoke normally. "Sancha. You taught your daughter the moment she could learn?"

"Yes. She was very good at Strega Magic too." Eluria gripped her fingers tight. The nearest Goblin, a Purple, was still some feet away. "Every day...But. Every day it's harder to feel that same anger. It's beginning to feel..."

"But the people that killed her still walk free." Ghenadie glanced back, the Purple was only three feet away. "Surely that lights a fire in your heart? To know that they still live and breathe while your own daughter does not."

"I know what you're trying-"

Eluria's eye flicked down. The Purple's shadow crossed her feet. Ghenadie waved the Goblins forward as he turned to run as fast as his frail body would let him. Eluria's forlorn expression instantly vanished, replaced with anger he had not seen before. The green smoke coiled around Eluria's body as the Purple lunged into the attack. Eluria snarled and threw the smoke like a giant blade, cutting the Purple in two and decapitating three of the cult leaders.

"You-"

Eluria cut her vengeful words short as the hordes pressed against her. The smoke cut through the Goblin's flesh with ease. She even tried to attack Ghenadie as he fled, who deflected it with a simple shield spell. Though it was little more than a glancing blow it nearly destroyed his magic and numbed his hand from the shock.

"No one else here has magic like Sally." Ghenadie shouted from the relative safety of the Goblin surge. "So that leaves you!"

Eluria did not respond. Instead a green glowing circle emerged around her feet.

"Don't let her get away! We'll never find her then."

Eluria smiled but did not notice the shadows crawling above her. The Goblins silently leapt from their perch and crashed into her head, though the coiled green smoke protected her it was not enough. Their sheer mass, even of those killed, collided with her and sent her out of the glowing circle. The circle flashed bright, the pair of Goblins standing in it disappeared.

"I wonder where they went.” Ghenadie muttered. He violently shook his head, remembering the situation he found himself in. “Restrain her. And make put some Ghlyirl on her! Don’t let her use any magic.”

The large Black Goblin, the diminutive Red’s bodyguard, ran towards Eluria with a small piece of the hexagonal covered metal in his hand while she continued to sputter green smoke from her struggling body and slicing the surging Goblins apart. The moment the metal touched her body the green smoke dissipated, leaving Eluria completely helpless. Ghenadie did not envy her as she struggled against the tides of Goblins. The Red snarled and most began to scurry away, the large Black held her back while the others kept her limbs pinned.

“I don’t know what made you change your mind.” Ghenadie began. “But...I still don’t understand why you helped us in the first place. We want to destroy the current world, but your revenge...Maybe you had a change of heart. Maybe.” Ghenadie shrugged. “But I’m sure you knew it would come to this.”

“Let go of me!” Eluria struggled against the near dozen Goblins pinning her. “You know that I’m a Strega Witch! When they find out that you killed me-”

“They must already know where you are, but have decided that you aren’t worth protecting. Do I really need to explain what is going to happen to you?” Ghenadie felt a strange joy in restoring that phrase back to her. “I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t need to know, just enough to keep you helping us. Oh. Speaking of.”

Ghenadie pointed to the bag Eluria always kept fastened securely to her hip. The Black Goblin ripped it free and passed it to a happy Yellow. The Yellow immediately tried to open it. The moment the creatures claws pierced the bag its head clicked up and it fell down, dead.

“A protective spell won’t stop us.” Ghenadie smiled. “We have many, many Goblins to throw at this. But thank you for bringing us this research. We wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“Let me go!” Eluria began to struggle one again.

Ghenadie laughed. “Oh, you Strega Witches are so haughty. So intelligent and wise. And yet you allow emotion to cloud your judgment so severely that you worked with us for revenge...What a useful idiot.”

“Let. Me. Go.” Eluria tried to kick the Goblins holding her legs.

"Please be quiet.” Ghenadie sighed. He ran a hand through his thin hair. “Since Sally is no longer with us and winter will not last forever we must hurry."

"Get these wretched things off of me!" Eluria kicked and screamed. "You know who I am! I will not let these creatures have their way with me."

"That." Ghenadie raised his hand. "That I can promise you. No Goblin will ever violate you. Of that you have my promise."

"Like your words mean anything to me now." Eluria spat at a Goblin, the ball of saliva landed on its lips. She recoiled when it licked it up and smiled. "Like you aren't going to throw me into those pits!"

"This...Change of heart you are having..." Ghenadie shook his head. "Very perplexing. You were more than willing to help us and now...I'm just repeating myself now, aren't I? I am truly getting too old."

The far door opened. More cultists emerged but these were different to the others. All wore leather aprons, thick masks of leather with eye holes made from glass. Sharp knives and other implements jangled lightly on their hips.

"You worry too much." Ghenadie smiled at Eluria. "They are not for you. Not at all."

She watched in silence as the new cultists approached Mihal's corpse.

One turned to Ghenadie as he began taking put his knives. "Was the grafting a success? If it was not our work here will be pointless."

The leather mask muffled some of their words but Ghenadie understood enough.

"Yes. We made sure that Trellos's Essence took hold and began the transformation. It was completed the other day, so..."

"I understand." The masked cultist snapped his fingers at the others. "We will do what we can."

They crowded over his body and began to cut away his clothes.

"What...What are you doing?"

"Hmm? Oh. Right." Ghenadie smiled. "A dead God cannot just be brought back. No. But they can be reborn, if know what you need."

The cultists forcefully ripped the few strands holding his clothes together. He was in even worse condition than even Ghenadie had feared, in some places his clothes were the only thing holding his body together. His intestines spilled out, along with chunks of flesh and clotted blood.

"But to be reborn you require two, one to give the seed and one to be a warm, protective vessel to love and nurture the God until it is time." Ghenadie smiled. "I'm sure you can guess where this is going. Right?"

Eluria already understood the moment he began speaking. She struggled with all her might but magic users were not known for their physical strength.

"Again. Don't worry."

Ghenadie smiled as the butcher cultists began to carve into Mihal's lower abdomen. They began to pull out more than just flesh. Silvery wires ran throughout his body. Each tug put considerable strain in his entire body, like there was another skeleton inside of him.

"They won't touch you either. You have my word."

The butchers carved open Mihal's arm and removed a silver skeleton hand. The silver bones twitched and gripped onto the blood smeared blade. The butcher hesitantly pried it free with another blade, unwilling to touch it even with his gloved hands.

"Though...When this is over, I'm sure you'll wish you were dead." Ghenadie smiled. "Every time this has been tried the vessel died. Normally they just use some poor random woman they kidnapped off the street...We'll see if you're any better. Okay?"

Eluria struggled as more of the silver skeleton came free.

"Despite everything." Ghenadie chuckled as he stepped away. "Know that Atros will fall, those that killed your daughter will die and extremely painfully too. Try...Try to hold onto that thought. The anger you once felt for them might just pull you through."

A Blue Goblin placed a wet rag over Eluria's face. After two breaths her body fell limp and her resistance collapsed.

"Think of this as a small mercy." Ghenadie clicked his tongue. A metallic shriek rang pierced his ears. "I wouldn't like to be awake for what's about to happen either."

Volume 05 - Chapter 45 - Unexpected Arrival

“Keep up!” Cetina yelled behind her, uncaring about the snow falling constantly over their heads. “Even though it’s cold we need to keep exercising. We must always be strong and ready for what is to come.”

“You love to try and wear me out in the morning.” Anton laughed. “Are you sure there’s a reason for that?”

Cetina shook her head and continued to run at her normal fast pace. Anton another person had joined them for their morning run. Rasha, wearing thick clothes that left the short fur on her legs exposed, ran alongside him. Her long legs effortlessly strode through the thick snow. He knew that she could move much faster, judging by the extensive muscles barely straining with each stride, she didn’t want to leave them behind.

“Is…” Rasha shook her head. “Is this normal?”

“What do you mean?” Anton asked. Cetina began to slow to their speed.

“I mean…We’ve…We’ve had sex last night. I couldn’t move after you were done and then you just went on to them, to do the exact same thing. Not to mention this morning you left Verona and Kal…” Rasha rubbed her face. “In quite a state. And now you’re having a run with two of your concubines…Is this normal?”

“Probably not.” Anton smiled. “Certainly not, not outside of some depraved noble…The fact that neither of you are denying that I am one is a little disappointing.”

“Oh.” Rasha began to panic slightly. “I don’t. Oh. Right.”

Anton waved her concern down. “Don’t worry about it. But I do enjoy these. Cetina is right. Mages, especially Mages, need to be physically fit. I don’t think it’s going to have much of an effect on how much mana you have, otherwise Mezot would have virtually nothing, but it’s going to be a surprise if someone tries to kill you.”

“Those assassins might have been able to kill us if you didn’t do any training.” Cetina smiled warmly. “And I’m always glad that you did listen to me, and still do.”

“True. True.”

“This is so strange.” Rasha shook her head. “Not what I was expecting.”

Anton kept his eyes forward, not because he was afraid of getting caught looking at Rasha, but because her chest was very distracting. Even though she wore her Arachnid silk shirt and bra they still bounced dangerously, dangerous for his focus. Cetina was not immune to such distractions, though it was mainly due to envy, not that Cetina was particularly small.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Rasha asked as they passed the western gate. She looked up and caught the gazes of the guards. When they ran past none were doing their duty, fully focused on something else. “Normally you have an idea of what you have planned for the day and then…You do that. Normally I’m left here but…”

“But?”

Rasha stopped. She looked to the wall, none of the guards could see them so close to the stone. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him into a tight hug. Not for the first time, Anton felt smothered by Rasha’s softness and unbelievable strength. He crooked his head up, his chin nestled deep in Rasha’s breasts while his legs dangled above the snow.

“But now I have someone to wait for.” Rasha leant down to kiss him but hesitated, tilting her head so the base of her orange horn would not hit his forehead. “And that alone gives me so much strength.”

Anton gripped onto Rasha’s arms and pulled himself up before she could. For a moment she was incredibly surprised that he kissed her but that quickly faded. Her larger and stronger tongue quickly submitted to his and began to pull him tighter. It was very similar to the night they had just shared; though Rasha could easily overpower him she was like putty in his hands once he started playing with her, especially her breasts and the base of her horn.

“Hold up.” Anton pulled himself free. Rasha breathed heavily and kissed him again. “I think someone is getting a little jealous.”

“Not really,” Cetina mumbled. The smirk she held failed to hide a faint redness. “But…Now that Rasha’s here, does that mean we can’t do our special thing?”

“What’s that?” Rasha continued to hold him tight with one hand and stroke his back with the other.

Anton tapped her arm. While it was a delightful experience to have someone so strong tenderly hold him he could not enjoy it forever. Rasha gently let Anton down but did not remove her hands from his shoulders, nor did she try and move his head away from resting between her soft breasts.

“That’s a really great sight.” Cetina laughed, shaking her head. “I know Verona would be proud of you.”

“I’m sure she would.” Anton held Rasha’s arm. He couldn’t even begin to wrap his fingers around it, and to think someone as strong as this practically melted under his touch. “But I’m sure you’ll enjoy it too, Rasha.”

“Okay…” Her ears flicked back once. She had an idea but was not going to ask just yet.

“But, as to your first question, I think we’re just going to have a relaxing day. If such a thing is possible.”

“Really?” Cetina smiled and ushered them onward. “That would be an interesting few days. When…When is Wilford going to arrive in Frindal?”

“Probably two or so days’ time.” Anton began to move forward and slip through Rasha’s powerful arms. “And everything’s going well, so we don’t need to go anywhere to buy stuff. So I can actually spend some time in Atros. Won’t that be a delightful?”

Rasha smiled faintly. “It would be nice.”

They began to run once again. Once they reached the north Cetina slowed and guided them into Atros. Anton smiled as the people walking the streets slowed and took notice of the two women with him, one Beast-kin smacked his head into a building. He swore, rubbed his stubby nose but still managed to get a good look at their rears.

“This way.” Cetina slowed and slipped into a small alleyway.

“What’s in here?” Rasha asked. She glanced back towards the streets but still followed.

“Privacy,” Anton smirked. “Privacy. No one comes here.”

“Why…” Rasha coughed softly. “What are we doing here?”

Cetina led them to a small alcove between two buildings. It was not an entrance but merely a holdover from an older piece of construction, perhaps from even before when Anton arrive in Atros.

“I don’t get much time to be with Anton,” Cetina said softly. “Not alone. Not that I have a problem with it, but I do want to have some time to have him myself. And it is very difficult while we’re on the road, with Verona and Kal, and with the Twins.”

“Twins?” Rasha tilted her head. “Oh. Right. Calo and Sheso. They seem nice.”

“They are.” Anton softly sighed. “But it was kind of hard to do anything while they were there. Cetina’s not the quietest.”

“Shut up.” Cetina’s face reddened as she lightly punched him in the arm. “You’re not much better.”

“Wait.” Rasha looked back as she entered the alcove. “Are you going to do it here?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Anton asked. Cetina began to lift his shirt, running her cool hands over his stomach and beginning to unbind his tail.

“I’ve…I’ve never thought of something…” Rasha looked out again. “Do Verona and Kal know about this?”

“I’m pretty sure Kal does.” Anton kissed Cetina’s red cheek. “Her sense of smell is incredible. And they know it doesn’t take this long to run a few times across Atros.”

“I just say that we’re going for our morning run.” Cetina loosened Anton’s tail and allowed it to hang free, a hand gently massage the base while travelling further to his rear. “Not how long we’ll be.”

“True…Are you going to join us or just watch?” Anton pulled Cetina close. “I don’t mind either way. Honestly.”

Rasha bit her lip, took a final look into the empty alleyway, and ripped her shirt off. She took Anton’s arm and placed it firmly on her breasts, sinking deep into the soft blue flesh. Rasha looked at him with misty eyes, so too did Cetina.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Anton tightened his grip on both, pulled them close and kissed Cetina as hard as he could.

---[]---

“Just a relaxing day?” Verona scoffed. “That will be the first in a long, long time.”

She placed his breakfast before him; a large selection of cooked meats, vegetables and cheesy baked potatoes. It was probably too much. His stomach was still filled with thick and slightly sour Minotaur milk.

“Too long.” Anton gently pulled her down into a kiss. “Maybe I’ll just spend all day at home with you.”

“That would be incredible.” Verona kissed his head and ruffled his hair. “But there are some things that we should do today. Besides, we all need to eat something. Otherwise we won’t be able to think clearly, on one of our days off, of all the times such a thing could happen.”

Kal took her seat next to Anton. Her plate was slightly more modest but she and Verona were starting to eat more as their pregnancies progressed. It probably wasn’t necessary, given the size of the baby but he wasn’t about to stop them. And it wasn’t that much either.

“I would like to have some time to work on a few things of my own.” Kal began to tear into the cooked meat with her jagged teeth. “Verona, of all people, is making those beautiful feather cloaks. So…I’m a bit lacking there.”

“Of course you’re not.” Anton rubbed her ear. Kal tilted her head so he would rub deeper into her ear. “But what did you have in mind?”

“I wanted to speak with some of the Dwarves that were working on that rifle of yours. They have to whittle wood…And that spoon that I managed to make isn’t really good enough.”

“When did you make that?” Rasha asked. She sat at the head of the table, opposite Anton. They had the woodworkers reinforce a special chair for Rasha. Anton would not have her sitting on some empty crate at his table. Especially now that she was his.

“Probably…Probably a little time after I fled Danafra.” Kal smiled. “Really, when mother threw me from the wall.”

“Right…” Rasha smiled as she began to eat her baked potatoes, the only thing she constantly asked for. “It still feels strange that we’re not slaves anymore.”

“True.” Kal shuffled close and kissed Anton’s ear. “Make sure they wash out their mouths before you bring them back. Normally Cetina does but today it’s really strong.”

She pecked his cheek and returned to her meal.

Well…I was a little excited this morning.

“We should move Rasha’s stuff in.” Anton said. Verona took her seat opposite Kal while Cetina sat between her and Rasha. “No reason that she should have to walk across Atros just to get something. Especially since she’ll be living here from now on.”

“I…I think that would be a great idea.” Rasha smiled and her ears flicked backwards. “Though…Though the bed was a little crowded.”

“Might want to finally get that bed from The Shadow Isles.” Verona said nonchalantly. “Maybe a special one, really big and comfortable. We’ll be moving it into the Sovereign Palace…Maybe we should just build one for that and not worry about this one?”

“I’m not going any further to the edge.” Cetina muttered. “And Rasha needs to sleep on Verona’s side.”

“I thought someone was grabbing me during the night-”

“It must have been Anton.” Verona whistled softly and looked away. “Surely. But a bigger bed would be nice.”

“Speaking of.” Anton began. “When Wilford arrives in Frindal…I can’t bring any Beast-kin with me.”

Rasha glumly nodded. “One day…”

“So…I was thinking of bringing Mezot and Axia.” Anton lightly shrugged. “They have very, very powerful magic and I think they need something to do…Being on the road and exploring will help them not think about what happened to them in Graterious.”

“How old is Axia again?” Verona asked softly.

“Fourteen and a half.”

Verona laughed. “There’s still a bit of time for her to grow up first…What about the twins? They’re probably older than either of us. How-”

A series of sharp horn blasts stopped Verona’s mental wandering. Everyone stopped as the short horn blasts repeated themselves.

“It’s not an enemy.” Kal quickly finished her mouthful of food. “Someone unknown is approaching.”

“Let’s go.” Anton stood up. “Everyone, get your weapons and armour. It’s not going to be an assault, but who knows what we’re going to find.”

“Damn it.” Verona hungrily devoured what she could off her plate. “This had better be damned important. Someone’s going to be in a lot of trouble for interrupting the first time I’ve cooked in a long time! I wanted to show off how much I’ve improved.”

---[]---

Anton ran up the steps to the most southern gate. Rasha and Cetina had already cleared a small area while Verona and Kal were close behind. Behind them Eider had gathered the few people of his personal guard, she stood in front with her two bodyguards either side.

“A lovely little squad.” Anton smiled. “Now…It feels like we’re having another Kal.”

A horse and a short heavily cloaked rider stood almost a hundred meters away from the wall. Both looked to be on the verge of collapse; snow and frost covered the horse’s coat, something Anton knew was incredibly uncomfortable while the riders gloved hands shook uncontrollably.

“Have they said anything?” Anton asked a nearby guard.

“They asked if this was the city to the north…” The Guard shrugged. “I said yes but she hasn’t come in. And…I heard there were Goblins and some kind of cultists. We didn’t know what to do.”

“That’s alright.” Anton slowly nodded. Movement along the wall caught his eye, Jeff ran towards him along with their elite guards, guards wearing complete metal armour with their bright Chelium swords. “Jeff? How have you been? I haven’t seen you or Sam for a while. Everything going well?”

“Me? Yeah.” Jeff roughly shook his shoulder. “But I’ve heard that there’s someone new hanging around your house. Someone that didn’t leave the other night.”

Rasha made every effort not to move.

“I think you’re all used to it by now.” Anton smiled. “But, what do you think we should do?”

“Some little girl in the middle of winter, coming from the south with all that mess down there?” Jeff shook his head. “Seems suspicious.”

“True. But there were people there. And I recognised one of them from Surdon, a small village in Graterious…I wonder…”

Cetina stepped to the stone wall. “Hey! Remove your hood and show us your face!”

The person slowly tried to remove her hood but her hands could not move quickly, nor did they have much strength. When the hood came free Anton was not completely surprised when he saw it was the young girl from Surdon that had been offered to him to remain in the village, her name he could not remember. Snow covered her face, skin had turned blotchy and red in an early state of frostbite while her whole body shook uncontrollably.

“Remember her, Verona? Kal?”

“I do.” Verona slowly nodded. “I…I don’t think we got a name.”

“No. I was getting angrily glared at by Kal.”

Kal said nothing, merely raising her dark aqua brows.

“Send someone out and bring her in. Oh, and someone get Mezot here. We need someone that can tell if she’s got some sort of magical…curse on her or something.”

Dana arrived shortly afterwards and sent forward two of her newest recruits, another to get Mezot. The two riders took the reins from the shaking girl and led them towards the city. Archers and crossbowmen kept their weapons trained on her. It was better to be safe than sorry.

As they opened the gates Anton saw Mezot running towards them, running for Mezot, while clutching her staff tight. Behind her ran Axia, in a slightly better state than her mother.

“What…” Mezot’s face was already red from the short exertion. “What is happening?”

“Check the girl for any sort of magic.” Anton pointed to the gate. “Make sure she’s not carrying anything dangerous, whether she knows it or not.”

Mezot nodded and stepped to one side, only at the behest of her daughter. The young girl continued to shudder as Mezot held her Charm close to her. Her eyes watched the disk of silver and gemstones with curiosity, Anton presumed it was heavily influenced by delirium caused by the severe cold.

“There is something,” Mezot said softly. “An amulet around her neck.”

Immediately every guard readied for combat, every range weapon creaked as they trained on Sally’s shivering form.

“Dangerous?” Anton stepped in front of Verona and Kal.

“No…No I don’t think so. But it’s very strange. I haven’t seen anything like it before, but I know it’s not harmful. Probably.”

“If you’ve never seen it before how do you know it’s safe?” Verona asked dryly.

Mezot took a slow breath. “I just do.”

She gave no further explanation. Axia shrugged lightly, clearly Mezot was not about to give anything more.

“Take her down and get her near a fire. We’ll take it from here.”

Dana’s riders began to take the girl down and walked her to a nearby fire brazier. She offered no resistance or thanks, she was too disoriented to do much more than follow basic instructions.

“Do you want me to heal her?” Kal asked.

“Not with that.” Anton gave her stomach a quick rub. “I’ll do it.”

“You think that we don’t feel the same way?” Kal softly replied.

Anton ordered Eider to make sure they had space as he approached the young girl. She was placed in front of the fire. The moment the warmth began to enter her body so too did a measure of life.

Anton crouched next to her as life continued to return to her. “What is your name?”

“S-Sally.” Her body began to shiver violently. “M-M-My…”

Anton touched her shoulder and chanted a healing prayer. Almost immediately the shivering stopped, the blotchy redness receded from her face and her breathing calmed.

“I…” Sally looked directly into his eyes. “I…I know you. You were in Soulthor. When those Mole Rats attacked.”

She looked at Verona. “You were there too and…I don’t…”

Sally’s eyes flicked over Kal, under a brief cursory glance she could pass as a human, but it landed on Rasha. She recoiled, pulling closer to the flaming brazier. Anton held her shoulder to stop her from going any further.

“W-What are you?”

“I’m a Beast-kin,” Rasha said softly.

“I…” Sally sat upright so Anton removed his hand. “I…”

Tears began to flow from her face along with terrible sobs. “They killed everyone! Everyone!”

“Who?” Anton held her cold hands. “Who killed everyone? Everyone in Soulthor?”

“Yes…” Sally grit her teeth, trying to hold back her tears and cries. “All but me. Because I was…useful to them.”

“And who is they? Just take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

“Mihal and Ghenadie…No.” Sally’s shoulders dropped. “Mihal is dead…They called themselves The Ancient Listeners. I don’t know what they wanted but….But they could control Goblins! They did everything they wanted. They did everything I wanted.”

She fumbled around her snow covered cloak and produced an amulet, more like a horrific fetish amulet of bone, skin and even some teeth.

“We’ve seen that before,” Kal said softly. She crouched next to Anton and peered closely at it. “In The Shadow Isles. They were digging out that liquid silver and when we broke this they turned on that human.”

“All of the cultists wore one of these.” Sally passed it to Anton. “They told me never to go far as the Goblins would attack me.”

The amulet was as vile to touch as it was to look at but it felt completely inert. Anton was no master at determining if something was a magical artefact or device but it appeared to be nothing more than what it seemed.

Mezot leant close, so that her swept-back hair almost touched his, and tapped the amulet with her finger.

“It’s emanating a very weak magic. Very weak…But it doesn’t seem to be doing anything else. I don’t understand…And…” Mezot stood upright. “And without the equipment of the Royal Academy, I don’t think I can. There are many implements and devices that could help me…But they aren’t here.”

“We might have to try and get them from Seocuria.” Anton rubbed her beard, brushing away the accumulated snowflakes. “You wouldn’t have a problem with that. Would you?”

“Why?” Mezot tilted her head.

“The-The Graterious Royal Academy?” Sally asked. “But aren’t we…Aren’t we in the Kar Kingdom? How did you get here?”

“It…” Mezot ran a hand over her ear, touching the golden jewellery. “It is a long story.”

Sally clearly wanted to know more but held back her questions.

“Regardless.” Anton held her shoulder. “You’re safe here-”

“No!” Sally swatted his hand away. “No. There are thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands. They control an entire city…I think they called it Surdon? I think that’s what they called it. But they’re making metal weapons and armour, breeding Goblins and making houses…They have this Witch helping them-”

“Witch?” Cetina’s eye twitched. “What sort of Witch?”

“Um…” Sally scrunched her eyes tight. “I think he called her a Strega Witch?”

The moment those words left her lips Cetina rushed to Anton’s side, nearly knocking him over and into the fire, and grabbed her shoulder.

“Describe her.” Cetina’s body trembled in anger. Anton grabbed her shoulder, Cetina realised what she had just done and took a deep breath. “Forgive me. I…What did she look like?”

Sally gave a perfect description of Eluria, the Strega Witch who had murdered Cetina’s father, Duran, for the strange magical stone that had transformed Anton.

“So that’s where she is.” Cetina ground her teeth. She released her hold of Sally’s shoulder, Sally gently rubbed it. “That’s where she’s been hiding. Why hasn’t Ferula said anything? Surely she could find her? Does she already know and just didn’t tell us?”

“Perhaps she’s still officially working for the other Strega Witches and she might claim that she was attacked unprovoked. I know it sounds unlikely but it’s certainly possible. Especially if they claim they’re looking for those stones.”

Cetina slowly nodded. She had been present in the tomb in The Shadow Isles when they had to watch two Strega Witches steal a fragment of the Frangitur Ira, whatever that was. They had threatened Atros, indirectly, should they attack them.

“So there’s nothing we can do?” Cetina sighed. “I know…I know. But I would like to see her suffer.” She smiled faintly. “At least we know where she is. Is there anything we can do? You flew near it before…”

Cetina glanced at Sally. She didn’t know about the Chiroks.

“I don’t want them to know that we know anything.” Anton sighed softly. “I’m sorry, Sally, but we are not currently in a position to do anything about the Goblins or The Ancient Listeners that destroyed your village. I’m sorry.”

Sally slowly nodded and looked down.

“But you are safe here. Did you see a series of towers as you approached?”

“I did.” Sally nodded. “It didn’t look like the Goblins made them, so I thought I was going in the right direction. At least, at least I thought I was. It was so cold…My head felt like ice…”

“There are Lightning Crows bound to them. They will attack any Goblin that gets within a mile of them, so we’ll know if they’re coming to attack. So you can sleep a little easier.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Verona asked. “You’ve clearly been riding all night.”

“We didn’t stop.” Sally pulled the cloak tight. “I think I was a bit cruel to the horse.”

The horse was quite belligerent and required large Beast-kin to get it to move. Nevertheless, it looked somewhat relieved to be with people and not roaming the cold wilderness.

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton gently rubbed her shoulder. “He’ll get well looked after here. Before we get you somewhere to sleep, is there anything you can tell us about The Ancient Listeners? Anything that might be useful?”

“Anything at all,” Kal said. “You never know if something might be important. Anything that seemed odd, odd in a place run by Cultists and Goblins.”

“There were a few things.” Sally took a deep breath. “There were two Goblins that were stranger than the rest. One was red and had some sort of crippled arm. And it always had a Black Goblin following him. And it looked dumb…It was always drooling.”

Verona sighed. “We’ve met those before as well. We couldn’t kill it…At least we know that The Ancient Listeners were causing all that mess for the Dark Elves.”

“We should tell them,” Anton said. “Hopefully Gerin will be willing to send us reinforcements when the time comes. Did you see anything else?”

“Um…There was this silvery metal. They had it and when I touched it-”

“You felt cold and anger?” Verona asked softly. “Anger like you’ve never felt before? Directed at every living thing?”

“Yes…”

Verona nodded. “Just like in The Shadow Isles.”

“Um…There was something else.” Sally’s shoulders dropped. “I killed someone. A young boy, Mihal. He was…A part of the cult. He was nice but he was still one of them.”

Anton wanted to ask if he was the young boy they had witnessed eating the flesh of a Red Goblin’s head. However, he didn’t have a good memory of what he actually looked like, especially without the blood covering his face.

“What happened?”

“I threw him from the tower. I didn’t have a choice. He would have warned-”

“You did what you had to do in order to escape.” Anton held her shoulder again. “Was there anything strange about him?”

“They were doing something to him. They had put all these…Tattoos on him. Made from that silver. They were using him for some sort of ritual. I don’t know what…But they wanted me for it.”

Sally looked at her stomach. Anton understood and still mentally recoiled at the mental imagery.

“Nothing good for anyone.” Anton murmured. “Thank you, Sally. You said you were riding the whole night. Correct?”

“Yeah…”

“I think you need to have some rest. A good rest. You are more than welcome to stay here, though I’m sure you’ll find it different to anything you knew before.”

Sally’s eyes rested upon Rasha, Kal and Eider. She clearly didn’t know what to think of the Beast-kin.

“We’ll take you from here,” Eider said. “Atros has lots of wonderful beds and wonderful food. You’ll love it here, I’m sure. Nice and safe. And warm too. Every building has a small brazier and enough thick clothes to bury yourself in. It’s incredible. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Sally was hesitant to go with a Cobra but Verona and Cetina offered to go with her as well. Once there were humans she was more than willing. She weakly trudged through the snow. Everyone else matched her speed, ready to catch her should she fall.

“What do we do now?” Rasha asked softly. She waited until Sally had left. “There are even more terrible things coming for us.”

“Not much we can do.” Kal murmured. “Especially with that Strega Witch with them. At least Cetina’s only slightly furious. You don’t think she’s going to go there, do you?”

“No. But we do need to deal with them sooner rather than later.” He looked to the guards as they began to return to their duties, especially the Beast-kin guards. “Getting more humans will be more difficult, even with our deals with Qaiviel, but there are ways we can get more help.”

“More raids?”

“Absolutely.” Anton watched Eider’s back. “And it’ll be the perfect chance to see if it can be done without us. Since we won’t be able to be with them all the time. We’ll never free a serious number of Beast-kin slaves if we’re the ones directing every raid, especially when we’re stuck halfway around the world.”

“Probably seducing some poor, unsuspecting woman.” Kal chuckled. “And what about her? Sally. She looks terrible.”

“I don’t know. But she came all this way to warn us, so that we could survive this cult. I think she’ll become a great help to us in the future. If nothing else she’ll be pushing hard to have all of the Goblins destroyed. I don’t think anyone would be able to match her wrath in having them slaughtered.”

“A worthy cause.” Kal smiled.

“Yes…” Anton looked to the south. “I don’t want to attack Surdon. Not as weak as we are right now.”

“But you can fly.” Rasha nodded towards the Chirok pens. “Just fly over them and release all that fire magic. Or…” She looked to Mezot, discussing something with her daughter. “Ice magic. That’s just as dangerous…Especially since it’s so cold. Or maybe not. Everything’s already cold.”

“And if they have a Strega Witch, or any other sort of magic user, just use a blast of magic to hit the Chirok? I’ll just come tumbling down and crash into Surdon. And in the off chance that I actually survive the fall then I’ll just be at their mercy. Not something I want to happen.”

“It was just a thought,” Rasha said defensively. “I don’t actually want you to fall to your death!”

Anton patted her side, Kal smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry. But it is a thought I’ve had. Not to mention that if we go on foot, after landing at that stone fort, the same thing could happen. No. There’s not much we can do with our current strength and numbers. I’m just worried what’s going to happen once they realise that Sally’s fled and warned us.”

“The Goblins won’t be moving much in the winter,” Kal said. “And I don’t think a Strega Witch would work with those cultists beyond…Well. Cetina killed her daughter. So I think that’s enough reason to help one of our enemies.”

“Revenge will make you do crazy things.” Anton slowly nodded. “But it’s a hollow thing. It’s hard to keep that angry forever.”

Kal pulled close. “Something you know personally?”

“Perhaps…How many more times am I going to say that we need to work harder when we simply have nothing more to give?”

Kal held his hand. “As many times as it’s necessary. But more people in Atros means more workers and soldiers. So…I think our course is set for the next few days.”

“No relaxing for us then.” Kal murmured. Rasha agreed.

Anton glumly agreed as he looked to the south. Surdon was always a looming threat but the snow and sheer distance between them always made it seem like it would be a long time before they would actually interact in any way. Sally’s presence told them how wrong he was. And yet there was not much more they could do. Fighting Eluria could bring down the wrath of the other Strega Witches upon them, something they could still not deal with. Ferula wasn’t about to give them an answer that could allow them to turn on her, anything she suggested would be highly suspect. Anton did not like feeling so vulnerable, having a veritable Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, but he knew it would not last forever. And seeing the looks of freed slaves was something he always loved.

Volume 05 - Chapter 46 - The Second Night of Flames

The Seocurian air remained hot and dry, even as night fell completely over Anton’s position. He watched the glinting plantation lights without emotion. He watched the Seocurian masters herd the Beast-kin into their barn, throwing curses and whipping them with complete and total abandon, even when the Beast-kin followed their every instruction. The guards merely laughed, after taking a young sheep Beast-kin from the terrified arms of her parents, before slamming the door shut and simply walking away.

“They’ve never fought back,” Anton mumbled. “Not yet. Not like you’ve ever seen.”

“It’s very sad,” Calo said. She and her sister stood by Anton’s side, watching the plantation with such silence that Anton often forgot their presence. “So sad they treat anything so terribly.”

“But not for much longer.” Sheso smiled as she looked behind them. “Not for much longer.”

Behind them, their forces waited in silence. Dark Elves, a mixture of volunteers from across the clans but predominantly from the Green Moon, sat in perfect silence. They held their cloaks tight around their heads and barely made a sound as they prepared their weapons and armour. Comparatively the Beast-kin and Human soldiers, there were far more Beast-kin than Humans, were more restless and unsettled. They had the heart but, for many, the number of actual battles they had partaken in was essentially nil.

“Can you get them up and ready?” Anton asked the twins. “There’s no reason to wait any longer.”

The twins quickly issued the orders. The Dark Elves rose without a word, the Humans and Beast-kin made considerably more noise.

Several people moved through the crowd to Anton’s position. Cetina and Rasha led the way, both wearing thick cloaks to hide their bright metal armour. Eider followed behind, with her two Beast-kin bodyguards.

“We’re ready.” Eider stepped to the side of Rasha. “I’ve told my…Subordinates? Subordinate is probably the wrong word…” Eider shrugged. “I’ve told them what to expect and the basic plan.”

“What is your plan of attack?” Anton stepped back so he could see the plantation and Eider. “It’s significantly larger than the previous plantation. And the structure is a lot different too.”

The plantation they overlooked lay nestled in the corner of a twisting shallow river. The Large fruit-bearing trees radiated out from the main buildings at the very corner of the river, an open road lay down the centre with several abandoned carts. They weren’t ruined, only that the Seocurian masters couldn’t be bothered to have them returned.

“I…Hang on.” Eider knelt and cleared a small section of the dry grass until she reached the dirt. It was difficult to see so Anton provided a tiny light, using his body to shield it from the Seocurians on the plantation. “Thanks.”

Eider quickly drew a rough map of the plantation.

“I was thinking that we avoid the road heading into the plantation…At least for now. Leave some Dark Elves along there, and the main road, just in case someone tries to flee that way. But I think that the best way would be to attack from the river.”

Eider drew many lines from the river towards the plantation buildings. “Like this. I don’t think they’ll be expecting that. They have a few fences just before the river bank but I think it’s just to stop people from wandering too close.”

“Is the river traversable?” Anton asked. Calo and Sheso returned to them. “The last thing you want is everyone to get bogged down in thick mud. Then they’ll be easy prey for even a weakly armed attacker.”

“I…I see.” Eider’s forked tongue licked angrily at the air. “I didn’t think of that.”

Anton nodded gently to the twins. “I’m sure that the Dark Elves could quickly scout the area. See how bad it is.”

“Yes.” Eider smiled as she looked at Calo and Sheso. The twins looked a little strange having a Cobra look at them in such a way. “Could you do that?”

“We can,” Sheso said. “But I don’t think it will be usable. The banks look like clay with a dry surface but it could easily be wet and sticky clay beneath.” Sheso crouched before the rough dirt map. “It might be easier to have some of the Dark Elves stand on the other side of the small river and catch anyone that tries to escape.”

“But then we have to approach through the plantation itself,” Eider said softly.

“Those trees are very large.” Sheso pointed to the plantation’s trees. They were indeed large but there were no bottom branches, but several old branches lay discarded throughout the plantation.

“We’ll advance between those branches.” Eider slowly nodded. “Do you think it’s a good idea to light those on fire before we attack?”

Anton looked along the main road. “I don’t think so. While we know there shouldn’t be a patrol there are cities in the distance. They could easily mobilise guards to investigate and ruin everything. But we will set fire to the plantation once we’re leaving, to cover our tracks and buy us time.”

“Right…” Eider erased the markers attacking from across the small river. “That’s the plan we’ll go with. We’ll lead with the Beast-kin with the Humans right behind. Thankfully they aren’t any Seocurians so they shouldn’t be too scared…But they are still humans.” Eider shrugged. “We can’t do anything about that. What will you do, Anton?”

“I will remain at the rear and provide support if things are starting to turn sour.” Anton removed his Fire Bomb. “My magic will certainly alert them to our presence. But I’ll heal everyone that gets wounded, not that there should be many since we have so many people.”

“Alright.” Eider took a deep breath. She gently rubbed down her shirt. “We’ll get going the moment we’re in position…How, how do we know when the Dark Elves are in position?”

“We use whistles,” Calo said. “We’ll stay with you and let you know when they’re ready. You should try and develop something similar.”

“How about we just use that?” Eider looked to her Beast-kin bodyguards. “Can any of you do something like that?”

The two lightly shrugged. Neither could.

“We’ll figure something out.” Anton smiled. “Let’s get into position before something unexpected arrives. The soldier’s information is likely out of date and there could be a new patrol on their way.”

“Right.” Eider and the Dark Elf twins gave a quick nod and ran down the hill to join the others. Calo and Sheso whispered harshly at them to keep their voices and actions to a bare minimum.

Cetina and Rasha moved closer. They both ensured that no one was nearby when they both reached for his hands.

“Have you two been learning from Verona and Kal when we’ve been out?” Anton asked. He held their hands in his, Cetina’s was normal but with Rasha hers was enveloping, as was everything about her.

“How often do we get a chance like this?” Cetina asked.

“Everyone morning,” Rasha said softly.

Neither were willing to relinquish their holds.

“We can’t just stay here for the battle,” Anton said. “But, I have something that might help. Something that will get you through the next little bit. Kneel down for a moment, Rasha, I can’t reach you from there.”

Rasha frowned softly at Cetina but did as she was told. She knelt down on one knee, now she was only just shorter than Cetina.

“Close your eyes.”

Again they did as they were told. Anton removed his gloves and held Cetina’s cheeks. Her eye opened just as Anton kissed her. She jumped slightly as his lips made contact with his. It was a short kiss but Cetina accepted it greedily. When they parted she smiled warmly, she did look a little more energised.

Rasha had remained perfectly still, except for her tail. She was not particularly good at hiding her excitement. Anton cupped her chin and stroked the base of her horn. Rasha whimpered, her shoulders dropped and became like putty in his hands. Seeing such a powerful warrior melt like warm butter in his hands would never fail to amuse him.

“Don’t…” Rasha whimpered as she forced her head back. Her parted, flushed lips and the redness travelling up her ears told him everything he needed to know.

“It’s still incredible that you do that.” Anton removed his hand from the base of her horn, much to her dismay, and gently stroked one of her ears. They were different from Kal’s, not so much soft and fluffy but a hard velvety sensation.

Seems that all Beast-kin are weak in the ears like they’d be willing to do anything you say just to keep rubbing them. Not that I don’t understand it.

“Why…” Rasha blinked. “Why did you stop?”

“Honestly?” Anton held his hands on his hips. Cetina raised a brow as she stood by Anton’s side. “Because I could do this all day to the both of you. There’s something about the way too incredibly strong warriors, like you two, just…Well, I think you know what I’m saying.”

“Can…” Rasha averted her eyes. “After…”

“For someone so strong and powerful you are pretty insatiable.” Anton kissed her cheek. “Aren’t you? Especially the heavy petting.”

Rasha did not deny his words.

“But we can play once we’re done.” Anton nodded to the plantation. “Fun always comes after work, after all.”

Rasha rose to her feet, rather to her hooves, and her face hardened alongside Cetina. Their frivolity just a moment ago had completely evaporated. Anton pushed his errant thoughts aside as well. Thousands of Beast-kin slaves needed their help.

---[]---

Anton, Cetina and Rasha waited near the junction to the main road with two Dark Elves to relay any potential messages. He hoped it would be unnecessary.

One of the Dark Elves raised his hand towards Anton. “Everyone’s in position. They’re advancing on the target.”

“I thought I heard a bird call.” Anton softly replied. “Don’t think birds were awake during the night.”

“It’s not a quick art to learn.” The Dark Elf readied his bow. “But once you learn the differences it’s very easy to understand.”

“I’ll believe you.” Anton nodded towards the plantation. “I want to get a bit closer to watch. I want to see how they do.”

The Dark Elves whistled a different call. Out of the darkness another six Dark Elves emerged and took up a crouched position near the road and began to search either direction for potential intruders. With that secured, and without a word from Anton, they began to advance. The Dark Elves led them through the trees, through areas where their boots, and hooves, would not make much sound. From their position, with the faint light of the plantation buildings ahead, it was easy to see the Beast-kin and Human soldiers slinking through the grass.

The soldiers reached the last line of trees but were hesitant to advance further. Cetina stopped them a few trees back. Anton chose the next tree, Rasha could just lean over without incident.

“What’s wrong?” Anton whispered.

Cetina pointed to the largest of the plantation buildings, the only building with lights and flames. Outside stood nine Seocurian’s. They wore better armour than the first plantation, actual pieces of armour rather than just light clothes, while they wielded iron-tipped spears and large wicker shields lay near their feet. Though the shields were essentially made from woven vines they were exceptionally light and provided decent protection against weak weapons, like the claws of a rebelling Beast-kin slave.

Anton spied Eider near the front. She glanced back, Anton tried to mimic shooting them with a bow. Eider flashed him a quick thumbs up and disseminated the order. The Dark Elf near her whistled and the other Dark Elves readied their bows. As most of the Humans and Beast-kin had melee weapons they were more than content to let the Dark Elves fire from range.

One of the Seocurian guards peered closer into the darkness of the plantation. It was odd for a bird to be whistling in the middle of the night. He took a few steps closer, two of the other Seocurian guards took a vague notice as they continued to talk.

A tiny whistle echoed through the air, then the twang of bows. Dozens of black arrows shot out of the darkness. The Seocurian guards let out a tiny grunt as they fell as one. Not all of the arrows landed lethal hits but the sheer volume of hits was more than sufficient. Eider waved her hand forward, Human and Beast-kin soldiers ran low, jumping over the fences and ensuring the Seocurian Guards were truly dead. Some hesitated as one of the guards was still alive. They gathered courage and drove their weapons into the man’s chest. He shuddered and fell completely limp and dead.

“Probably their first kill,” Cetina said softly.

“I doubt they’ve even killed an animal.” Anton glummly nodded. “Killing in anger is one thing. So much different to when they’re lying down helpless.”

The soldiers again looked in Eider’s general direction for further instructions. She spoke with the few Dark Elves near her and her bodyguards, all the while the exposed soldiers watched the occupied houses with trepidation. Though the houses had cheap glass windows, murky glass but would still allow someone determined to see through and see almost thirty people skulking about outside.

Eider finally gave a wave of her hand and ordered the soldiers forward. Only one building was inhabited, so the course of action was clear. As the Humans and Beast-kin neared the doors and crouched low they looked to the Dark Elves that proceeded to circle around the building. Anton was about to say something about how they weren’t watching the doors and windows but a somewhat angry Dark Elf gestured rudely and they refocused their attention.

Anton slinked closer, Cetina followed close behind while Rasha held the cloak tight against her bright orange horn. Eider glanced back at Anton but kept her attention placed firmly forward.

“All good so far,” Anton said softly.

“Yes.” Eider gripped her hands tight. “But I am still a little nervous.”

“Beyond this being a dangerous mission?”

“I…” Eider coughed. “I don’t know. Someone could die…”

“We’re doing alright so far.” Anton patted her shoulder. “But we shouldn't get complacent. The sooner we deal with the remaining Seocurians the better.”

Eider poked her head up as the Dark Elves returned from their trip around the building. They gave no sign they had found anyone, or that they had already successfully dealt with any further Seocurians, instead they signalled that they were ready to advance on the house.

“Isn’t there a Sheep Beast-kin inside?” Rasha asked softly. “We saw them take her.”

Eider grimly nodded. “We’ll do what we can. We can’t save everyone. Right?”

Anton smiled faintly. “No. But we’ll save everyone that we can.”

“Attack.” Eider harshly whispered the order.

The Humans and Beast-kin tried to push and pull the door open but it was locked. They looked to the Dark Elves who instructed them to knock. Just like last time a silhouette of a woman approached the door, Anton could see her shaking her head and muttering to herself. The moment she opened the door the soldiers burst through, pushing each other in a mad rush to push forward.

“Help!” The woman screamed. “There-”

A spray of blood erupted from her throat as a sword all but cleaved her head from her shoulders. From behind the windows, Anton saw the other Seocurians, men and women, jump to their feet. The women ran deeper into the house, accompanied by the terrified screams of children. Anton tried his best not to contemplate their fate. Though horrible there was no way they could live and tell them of what happened this night.

“Keep going!” Eider waved the remaining soldiers forward. “Don’t let any escape.”

“Make sure the Dark Elves are on alert,” Anton told the Dark Elves. “If there’s any outside of the main building are dealt with.”

Eider watched the slaughter of the Seocurians in silence. The Human and Beast-kin soldiers were far better equipped than the Seocurians and quickly dispatched the men remaining on the ground level. A few shouts and they began running up the staircases, after the women and children. Anton held the fence railings as ear-piercing shrieks echoed out of the building, the terrified screams of children silenced forever.

“I…” Rasha looked to Eider. “This is going to be a constant thing, isn’t it?”

“I think it will.” Eider glanced at the Dark Elves. “They said this happened before. And it will happen again and again, until we win.”

A body of a young Seocurian woman flew out of an upper floor. She was still alive as she crashed into the ground, snapping her neck and rolling limp onto the ground. A Beast-kin soldier stabbed her in the back with his short spear. She was already dead, but one could never be too certain.

Nearly a minute passed and nothing else had happened. Slowly the soldiers emerged, shaken and bloodied but with a defiant look in their eyes. They had won their first battle, albeit against unarmed civilians, but a victory was still a victory.

“Is that everyone?” Eider asked.

“It is.” A human replied. He helped carry a wounded Beast-kin on his shoulder. “But a few of us were wounded. No one is dead...None of ours, at any rate.”

“Bring them to us,” Anton said. “What about the Sheep Beast-kin girl?”

A Beast-kin soldier led a shaken Sheep Beast-kin from the building. She was naked, except for a thin blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her body shook uncontrollably as her wild eyes twitched between everyone around them.

“Is she drugged or just scared?” Eider asked.

Cetina stood up. “Would you think you’ve just been saved from a lifetime of slavery?”

“No. No, I would not.”

Anton waved the wounded soldiers to him. Cetina dismissed those only with small cuts and wounds and ushered the few heavily wounded to Anton.

“Did anyone survive?” Anton asked.

“None.” The wounded Beast-kin soldier clicked his canine tongue. “Even the children. We killed them-”

“Though it is detestable it needs to be done.” Anton chanted a healing prayer. “Can you imagine what will happen to us if word got out of what we’re doing?”

“Nothing good.” The soldier grumbled.

“My Lord!” A group of Dark Elves approached from the direction of the shallow stream. “We’ve found these three trying to escape.”

They thrust three Beast-kin, two reptiles and one turtle, into the ground before Anton. Their legs were covered in dried mud, where they had tried to escape across the small river bed.

“Guess it was right not to go that way.” Eider held her chin. “I must keep aware of things like that.”

“Why weren’t they in their cells?” Calo asked. She and her sister ran up to Anton. “We didn’t find any other Beast-kin-"

“They’re informants.” Eider hissed at the three. “That’s why they aren’t inside. They’ll be killed if they do.”

“Makes for poor informants if they’re known to the Beast-kin as...Well, informants.”

Eider shrugged. “They listen well. Or they just make things up, lying to one group and to one another...I don’t know how it works. We just killed them in Danafra.”

“Divide and conquer?” Anton shrugged as he healed another soldier. “Don’t know if that’s the best strategy…”

“Please.” The turtle clasped his hands above his head. “We heard fighting and fled. Next thing we know we’re being attacked by these...Seocurians?”

“Dark Elves.” Anton corrected them. “But I have a very easy way to determine if you’re telling the truth.”

Anton had the three brought to him and cast a Truth Prayer on one. He wasn’t surprised when they divulged the truth, they were privileged Beast-kin, Beast-kin that ratted on their own kind to their Seocurian masters for better conditions and work.

“You don’t-”

A short spear thrust into the neck of the Turtle Beast-kin. One of Eider’s bodyguard held the spear, quickly retracted it and killed the others.

He looked at Anton with trembling lips, Eider and the other bodyguard looked on with worry. “They don’t deserve to be free.”

Anton said nothing and slowly backed away. The bodyguard silently returned to Eider’s side, Eider appeared a little nervous but he gave no indication that he was about to lash out again.

He must have lost someone important to him from an informant. I understand the anger, but it’s a massive hit to discipline.

“Anything else in there?” Anton asked.

"No Seocurians." A Dark Elf replied. "There was a young man retrieving water from the creek, but he was disposed of."

"I see." Anton took a deep breath. "It's a shame we didn't get anyone that might know where more isolated plantations are..." His eyes fell upon the still trembling Sheep Beastkin. "But there are always other sources of information. Sources that might know more than their masters would like."

"I..." Eider's tongue licked at the air. "I will free the Beastkin slaves." She nodded to the barn where they were kept. "They'll have heard screams and wondering if it's coming for them."

"Don't hesitate to use force to defend yourself if necessary," Anton said. "Shouldn't be necessary but you can never be too cautious."

Eider gave a quick nod and ordered the majority of the Beastkin soldiers towards the barn. They would be the least threatening, although the most confusing to the captive slaves.

"I think that went alright," Anton said. "Calo. Sheso. Did anyone slip past your Dark Elves?"

"We had the place encircled." Calo began. "Nothing got in or out. There was just the water collector...And these three."

She waved weakly to the three dead Beastkin.

"Such a shame."

Sheso frowned deeply. "Do you think they would have, eventually, tried to tell Seocuria about what happened here? They would have had a better life in Atros. At least they would have been free."

"Free and hated," Anton said. "Word would have spread. But if they would have tried to inform their former masters? I honestly don't know."

He shrugged at the corpses. "We'll never know."

The heavy locks on the barn came free. Unlike the previous plantation, these Beastkin were in large cells inside of the barn. There were simply too many for the meagre guards to handle otherwise. Anton watched as the Beastkin were brought outside. They huddled together, from fear and confusion at what was happening to them. They could not comprehend that Beastkin soldiers had set them free.

Eider stood at the front, flanked by her two bodyguards, and began to explain what was happening. It was a rather simple affair, one which Anton did not feel the need to interfere with. Slowly the Beastkin began to relax, they grew more tense when they saw the humans amongst them and even more so when they saw the Dark Elves, their dark brown skin looked suspiciously like a Seocurian's in the dim light.

"Someone go through the house," Anton said. "See if you can find any valuables or useful pieces of information. But be quick about it. I want to be gone as soon as possible."

The nearby Dark Elves saluted and ran towards the buildings, leaving some of the Humans and Beastkin surprised. They followed, but only because they didn't know what else to do.

Eider slowly approached with the Beastkin in tow. Anton knew that every time they freed a slave they would be greeted with the same expressions of fear, confusion and no slight amount of awe.

"This is Anton," Eider said loudly. "He is the human in command of us, the human that will set us all free."

The Beastkin slaves could not believe what they were hearing.

"You are all safe now," Anton spoke loudly but as calmly as he could. "Come with us and never again will you feel the cold sting of iron chains."

The Beastkin had no idea what to say. Instead they looked at him like he was a madman. One of the Beastkin's eyes wandered to the three dead Beastkin lying but a few meters away.

"What happened to them?" The older Beastkin asked.

Immediately the atmosphere began to change. Anton raised his hands before anyone could speak.

“Do you recognise them?” Anton asked.

“Yes...” The older Beast-kin realised that he was the only one willing to speak, rather than he had been unofficially elected to speak for them. “They were on extra work. The Masters had them collecting water and chopping firewood.”

“Strange.” Anton folded his arms. “And how often does this happen?”

“Nearly every night.” The elderly Beast-kin frowned at the dead bodies. “It’s lucky they survived for so long.”

“And has anyone seen them doing this?” Anton raised a brow. “Actually collecting water or chopping firewood?”

None could answer.

“We found them in the company of the Seocurians.” Anton took a moment to formulate his next words. They weren’t exactly lies but they weren’t the truth either. “Strange that they were laughing and having a great time while you were stuck in that shed. Afraid of any noise that might herald the arrival of an angry or drunken Master.”

Anton nodded to the still terrified Sheep Beast-kin. He hoped it would pass and soon.

“But they were new.” Another said. “They arrived only a few days ago. The Masters...” Someone nudged her side and pointed to the dead Seocurian woman. “They...By the Gods. You killed them?”

“All of them. They will never be able to hurt you again.”

The Beast-kin shook her head. “But they only arrived a few days ago. They seemed nice and kind.”

“Did it seem a bit strange how nice they were acting?” Cetina asked. “Too friendly?”

Some murmured in agreement.

Anton snapped his fingers. “That’s a clever way to keep them guessing.”

“Hmm?” Rasha tilted her head

"By keeping everyone moving and continuing to separate them, so they can't form lasting friendships, it's easy to inject one or two new informants. Might not be the best plan but it's what they went with here."

"They didn't do anything like that in Danafra." Rasha shifted her legs. "They kept us all in that giant dome thing."

"You came from Danafra?" The first Beastkin asked. "You escaped from the capital?"

"With help." Rasha smiled. "Eider and I were there, and quite a few others as well."

Now the Beastkin seemed very happy. Already the dead Beastkin were nothing but a distant memory. Anton reasoned they already expected something like this but were not completely sure.

"Please follow Eider." Anton pointed out of the plantation, to where the portal lay hidden. "Everything will be made clear once you are safe."

The Beastkin slaves followed Eider. Some were quite ill and wounded, they needed help in order to move at a reasonable pace. Anton wanted to heal them but to do so would cost valuable time. They had no idea when a military patrol would come by. Granted, nothing was amiss yet but they would notice the stream of Beastkin crossing the road.

The forces that had entered the house to search returned with mixed results. The Dark Elves carried boxes of loot, especially those from the Green Moon, while the Humans and Beastkin carried small bundles of papers.

"We'll take it all back with us," Anton ordered. "Sift through it at home. Anything particularly noteworthy?"

"They had a fair amount of gold." A Green Moon Dark Elf said proudly. Those from the other clans gave derisive looks. "But nothing much else. We just grabbed everything that we could get our hands on."

"I expect to find most of that to be sorted," Anton said. "Remember, you can't buy anything with it yet."

"Well, not yet. But sometime soon we will. Right?"

"Soon. But not right now." Anton inspected the chests. "If you want something that we can't make at home then just let me know. We have people that can buy them for you."

The Dark Elves seemed very happy to receive some of the spoils, and first pick at that.

"Don't worry, Lord Anton. We'll make sure we save you the good stuff."

Calo and Sheso said nothing as the Dark Elves began to retreat.

"And what about us?" Cetina asked.

Anton held out his hand and summoned a dozen small Fire Bombs. "Now we cover our tracks."

---[]---

The Beastkin stood in total silence. The plantation they had worked and lived in was burning in an uncontrollable inferno. Every building was ablaze, every tree a pillar of flame. Soon there would be nothing left.

"It's really gone." A Beastkin whispered through tear-filled breaths. "It's really gone..."

"As will every plantation and slaver," Eider said loudly. "If you follow and help us. We cannot do this alone, not without your help."

There was little more than a hushed murmur from the former slaves, almost a thousand of them. Anton did not expect them to do anything.

The Human and Beastkin soldiers began to usher the former slaves through the portal in an orderly fashion. The Dark Elves waited impatiently to the side, holding their loot tight, even those not from the Green Moon.

"Anton?" Sheso called for him. Anton waved for the twins to join him on the ridgeline, watching the plantation burn in perfect silence.

"Something the matter? I think I remember the Dark Elves collecting all of their arrows and covering any sign we were here."

"They have," Sheso said firmly. "But...You understand that we Dark Elves can hear very well."

"I do."

"When...When you were setting the buildings on fire I heard something.” Sheso leant close. “I heard screams-”

“It must have been the trees burning.” Anton continued to look towards the burning plantation. “Only the trees.”

“But I know what I heard.” Sheso frowned lightly. “I-”

“You must have heard the burning of trees.” Anton held her shoulder. “Perhaps the popping of fruits still on the branches. Nothing more. Certainly not screams.”

Sheso understood what he was saying and slowly nodded. Anton knew exactly what she was talking about. As flames engulfed the buildings he heard screams from the upper floors. He was quite disappointed that the Dark Elves had missed someone. Though it was probably excusable, since the screams came from a child.

We must become more thorough when we’re searching. Then again the child probably knew some secret little hiding place in the rafters...Not that it did them any good. They didn’t expect me to burn the whole plantation down.

“I must have been hearing things,” Sheso said softly. Calo looked very concerned.

“It has been a long night.” Anton smiled at her. “When we get back try and get some sleep. If you need something to drink then do so. You’re old enough to drink alcohol, right?”

The twins huffed.

“We’re older than you.” Calo chuckled. “Probably older than Rasha. So...Doesn’t that make us your elders?”

“Yeah…” Sheso cracked a smile. “But you’re going to get angry at us if we try and boss you around. Right?”

“You can try.” Anton smiled. The next moment he held their heads. “But I don’t think you’re going to get very far.”

He smiled and patted their helmets but something was eating away at the back of his mind, again. Rather, the fact that he felt nothing was what was truly odd. Like the previous raid on Seocuria, they had killed women and children. Again he felt nothing at their deaths beyond a fleeting concern. The twins noticed and stopped their laughing, Cetina and Rasha held his shoulders.

“I don’t feel anything for killing the Seocurians.” Anton nodded to the plantation. “The women and children were not the slavers. They were just living there. But in order for us to survive, they need to die...Unless we’re going to keep them as prisoners for the next ten to twenty winters.”

Rasha and Cetina threw him an odd look.

“There’s no way that we’re going to be able to free every Beast-kin even in the next five winters. We have nowhere near enough resources or housing for the millions of slaves. But...I do not believe that all Seocurians are like the slave owners.”

“Really?” Rasha raised a red brow.

“Do you think that Loretta and her children are like the Seocurian Empire? You seemed more than willing to carry them on your shoulders when we were travelling across the Kar Kingdom?”

“...True.”

“But we can’t expect the Seocurian Empire to just surrender all of the Beast-kin to us.” Anton clicked his tongue. “Definitely not without conflict. And, this is going to sound pretty harsh, but our current methods are just going to end in the deaths of most of the Beast-kin.”

“What?” Rasha voiced the obvious question.

Anton folded his arms. “Imagine that we win. We defeat the armies of Seocuria and we force them to give up the Beast-kin. Just how many do you think they’re actually going to give us?”

“But...We won?” Rasha frowned. “Isn’t that how it works?”

“It should be. But imagine that you’re a slave owner. Some outsider, and his Beast-kin backed army, has just defeated you and ordered that you surrender all of your workers, breaking not only you but the country’s economy. Imagine what might happen to them? Purely out of spite.”

“Oh…” Calo winced at Rasha. “Yeah. Most of the Beast-kin will die.”

“Especially since they think of them nothing more than tools,” Sheso added softly. “They’ll break them like a petulant child so we can’t have them.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?” Rasha’s hands began to shake. “There’s no way to save us?”

“I haven’t given in to despair.” Anton held Rasha’s arm. “And neither should you. Apart from massive simultaneous attacks right across the Empire, which is the main plan, I intend to weaken them from within. I cannot do much, but I believe there are Seocurians that disagree with the current treatment of the Beast-kin. The Seocurians we have in Atros are descendants of those that fought and lost.”

“But they can’t do anything in Seocuria,” Cetina said softly.

“No. But remember when we were in Danafra and walking towards that dome? Where those Beast-kin were strung up?”

“Yes…”

“There was an old man and his children, probably grandchildren, and he did not look happy with the state of the Beast-kin. When he realised we were watching he scurried away.”

“Danafra’s a big city.” Cetina smiled bitterly. “Do you think we’re just going to find him and get him to agree to something like this? He might just be a commoner. We really need a noble.”

“Only one way to find out,” Anton said. “But I do want to go back to Danafra. I know it’s not a good feeling to give the Seocurian Empire any of our money, but I do want to see about buying some more...No. We can’t do that.”

“We can’t?” Rasha asked softly.

“We don’t have a ship to put them on before we send them through the portal.” Anton nodded back, most of the Beast-kin had already passed through. “And there’s no way we could just find someone like Wilford. It’ll just have to be weapons and tools. Perhaps some magical items.”

“Shame…” Rasha murmured.

“We can’t save everyone,” Anton said softly. He looked back to the plantation inferno. “But we will do everything we can. Right?”

He received four serious nods. Though it was harsh to say they were limited in actions against an entire Empire in their current state, it was the truth. It was best to not overreach and lose everything, even if it meant the prolonging of the Beast-kin suffering.

Volume 05 - Chapter 47 - Danafra Rebels

“This is your selection?” Anton asked the Seocurian store owner. “It’s quite impressive, I must say.”

Anton slowly nodded as he perused one of the few magical stores in Danafra. Cetina stood by his side, silent and watching the Seocurian store owner, like she was some sort of secretary. Behind him, Calo and Sheso idly looked through the numerous books and tomes on display. They hadn’t been given any directions or what to look for but there was every chance they would find something interesting.

“Thank you.” The Seocurian store owner, a middle-aged man with a slightly weathered face, smiled. “Though Seocuria does not have a dedicated a Magical Academy like Graterious there are many Principle Mages within Seocuria, and they need somewhere where they can resupply.”

“And for more than a modest profit too.” Anton smiled. “But most of these books are Beginner. Not that I have a problem with that.”

“Indeed.” The store owner glanced to Cetina, who still said nothing but was looking at him through her eyepatch. “We do have some Intermediate and even a few advanced, but they are quite expensive. Very expensive.”

“Because very few people are capable of using those magics?” Cetina asked.

The store owner nodded. “Indeed. Indeed. But, please tell me if you see anything that catches your eyes.”

He had seen a small group of young Seocurians enter, all with Charms comparable to Axia’s rather than Mezot’s. They looked very excited and expectant, nervous hands touched small swollen pouches hanging from their hips, hopefully, for the store owner’s sake, they were full of gold and silver. Perhaps more alluring were the short sheathed swords hanging from their hips, glowing with a faint magical hue. Anton had yet to find any books on using Principle Magic to enchant weapons but there was every chance one lay hidden in the store.

“Anton.” Sheso idly reached and tapped his back. “Have a look at this. Metal magic. For beginners. How about that?”

“That’s good.” Anton saw the book Sheso pointed to, a thick book with a silvery cover. It wasn’t made from silver but it was nevertheless eye-catching. “Take one of those as well. We didn’t get one from Graterious. Perhaps someone will be able to use it.”

“If they can understand Mezot’s teaching,” Calo said softly. “I listened to one. It was a little...Difficult.”

“Most of our people have spent nearly every waking moment working.” Anton smiled. “Or just trying to survive. It’s going to be a little difficult to adjust to a new lifestyle.”

“Strange enough for us to have full meals.” Sheso laughed. “If we weren’t beaten by Cetina in that sparring match we’d probably be fat.”

Anton looked at the Dark Elf twins. They frowned and tilted their heads.

“Can’t imagine what you two would look like fat.” Anton patted their heads. “Anything but the slender Dark Elves would be weird.”

“We would like-”

“Stop it. All of you.” Cetina sighed. “Now, does anyone see a book on how to enchant weapons?”

“There was something near the front,” Calo said absentmindedly. “I’ll go have a look.”

As Calo began to walk away Sheso quickly gave chase. Cetina sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, almost nuzzling into his neck.

“No one would expect one of my bodyguards to be so demanding.” Anton scratched her chin. “Or as cute as you.”

“Certainly not.” Cetina kissed his neck. “But are we just here for the books? Since we can’t get back to Boreana anytime soon.”

“We might be able to return to Porswea.” Anton felt Cetina tense. He held her hand tight. “I know that you don’t want to-”

“I’m just a little uneasy about going back there.” Cetina took a deep breath. “But I am ready to go there if we need to.”

“Not for a little bit. But there is something more. Remember those people that were looking at the crucified Beast-kin when we first arrived in Danafra?”

“I do. But I don’t like…” Cetina looked around to make sure no one was listening. “What I saw.”

“They didn’t like what they saw. Perhaps...Perhaps they might know something. Even if they aren’t aligned with our goals, we might be able to learn more about the political situation. About the different families and how we might be able to start wars between them.”

“That could work.” Cetina clicked her tongue as the Twins returned. “But it will be difficult with just us. Especially since we don’t look like Seocurians. Calo and Sheso might pass for one, but their skin is too light.”

“Not something we can help.” Sheso held a large book, as did Calo. “We’re born like this.”

“But we did hear something interesting.” Calo placed her book in Anton’s hands. It appeared to be the second book of enchanting objects using Principle magic, her sister held the first. “Those mages were talking about some attacks on plantations, and how the leaders are getting very nervous.”

“I’m sure they would be.” Anton saw a lone Seocurian idly approach, paying more attention to the books than to where he was walking.

“But they also said something else.” Calo motioned for Anton to lean closer. She threw a glance to her sister as she breathed into his ear. Thankfully Anton had already grown used to such things, but his lack of reaction rankled Calo. “That there was a family in Danafra, one that managed to survive the purges about fifty winters ago. That’s about the same time as those Seocurian Refugees arrived in Jaka. Right?”

“Right.” Anton remained leaning forward.

“I asked them, since the men were more than willing to speak with two cute girls.” She ran a hand through her hair. “And one of them is still quite outspoken about the treatment of the Beast-kin. And, even better, he apparently takes his children along the crucifixion lanes. Do you know anything about that?”

“I do.” Anton patted her head. “Let’s buy these books, get them back home, then have a look for this man. If we can’t find them then this might have been a slight waste of time.” Anton tapped the books. “Of course these are nice, but I want something that’s really going to help us.”

---[]---

“That was easier than I thought.” Calo murmured. “Too easy...Do you think it’s a trick?”

“I hadn’t considered that.” Anton shook his head. “But the only other option is to kill most of the Seocurians that stand in our way, which is all of them, and have most of the Beast-kin die in revenge killings. And no one wants that.”

After returning the books to Atros they had returned to Danafra to search for the old man. As they had no information to go off their only option was to hope for the best. Thankfully they found him in the exact same location as before, this time with three young children and a young man.

“So…” Cetina coughed. “How are you going to do this? Last time they thought you were looking and they ran away.”

“We’re going to get a lot of attention chasing down a family.” Anton rubbed his cheek. “Especially with skin like this. No. I think we just act nonchalantly until we’re basically on them and then try and strike up a conversation. If they really think the Beast-kin do not deserve their fate then they might, just maybe, be willing to speak with us.”

“Unless they think we are some sort of trap,” Sheso said.

“Only one way to find out.”

Anton tried his best to ignore the crucified Beast-kin. There were less than the first time they had come through, not that it made it any easier to look at. Despite their horrific fate, to die of exposure and thirst, the Beast-kin accepted it in silence.

You have no masters in death…

The old Seocurian Man did not notice their approach. All of his attention lay on the crucified Beast-kin before him, a turtle Beast-kin who had parts of his armoured shell smashed with spikes to support his weight.

“Ridiculous.” The Old Man muttered, loud enough for Anton to hear. “Utterly ridiculous. This, children, this is an utter waste of time and resources. Remember that.”

Well, if they consider Beast-kin to be nothing more than creatures that cannot simply be disposed of...It’s a little better, I think.

The young Seocurian man ran a hand through his short, thick black hair. “But...If they don’t fear-”

“Fear is such a useless tool.” The Old Man shook his head. “For once the Beast-kin realise that they don’t have anything to lose, there’s no reason for them to hold back. But if any of you travel beyond the Seocurian borders, you’ll see human workers. And those workers are paid, which then goes back into the economy to make more money, not...”

One of the young children, a girl wearing bright colours, noticed their approach and tugged on his pants hard. At first, the Old Man frowned at her, his expression quickly shifting to extreme panic as he realised four people were walking straight towards him. When he realised they weren’t all Seocurian, Calo and Sheso’s skin was somewhat lighter than the Seocurians, his demeanour changed.

“Hello,” Anton said. “How-”

The Old Man pushed the children forward and began to run. Run being a subjective term for an elderly man that could barely keep a straight back. His children quickly left him behind, always glancing back for him.

“Do I stop him?” Cetina asked. She hadn’t drawn her sword and Anton certainly didn’t want her to.

“Without hurting him. We need to learn more, and we can’t do that if he’s not going to talk.”

Cetina, and the twins, gave a single nod before breaking into a run. Calo and Sheso reached the Old Man first, much to his obvious surprise, and raised their hands. In a fit of madness, the Old Man tried to run through them but the twins were much stronger. He simply bounced off and into Cetina’s arms.

“What do you Graterians want with me?” The Old Man barely wasted a breath before beginning to talk. “Well? What do you southerners want with me? And you two? Defectors from-”

“Stop it.” Cetina squeezed his shoulders. The Old Man hissed at the pain. “We just wanted to talk.”

Anton, who hadn’t broken into a run, caught up. His children had stopped running and were now coming back, to rescue their father. Calo and Sheso received the silent order from Cetina, turned and gripped their short swords, ready to draw them at but a moment's notice.

“For an old man, you can run pretty fast,” Anton said. He patted the Old Man’s shoulder. “Tell your children, or grandchildren, that we don’t mean you any harm.”

The three children, two girls and one boy, looked ready to fight, in the way that children could not understand a lethal threat before them. The young man did and held them back.

“It’s okay.” The Old Man tried to act calm. “I don’t know who these people are, but I don’t think they’re here to hurt us.”

“Eyepatch is hurting you!” One of the young boys yelled.

“Only because he ran.” Cetina gave his shoulders a final squeeze before letting him go. “We just wanted to talk.”

“About what?” The Old Man rubbed his shoulders, letting out winces with every movement. “What could Graterians possibly want with a destitute and failing Great Family?”

“I have an interest in the way that you look at the Beast-kin.” Anton nodded to the crucified Beast-kin. He couldn’t tell if they were actually listening or if they had already crossed the threshold. “Especially the first time we were here. We didn’t hear what you said but you looked mighty disappointed that the Beast-kin were being treated this way.”

“Then you saw us and ran away,” Cetina said. “It was a while ago.”

The Old Man looked them up and down. “I don’t remember either of you, but my mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“Perhaps we should talk somewhere a little more private?” The young man offered. “Somewhere where there aren’t dying Beast-kin everywhere.”

The Old Man gave a curt nod and pointed down a street away from the rows of crucified Beast-kin. His children, or grandchildren, led the way but always kept them within their sights. Eventually, they stopped at a small park, or what passed for a park in Danafra, and took their seats amongst the immaculately maintained shrubbery and flowers. The young man assisted the Old Man taking his seat on a long wooden bench, the Old Man let out many groans and rubbed his legs. The little display of speed earlier might have very well cost him his life if he tried to run the whole way home.

Anton was tempted to heal the Old Man now, to prove his good intentions, but decided to hold off for now. If they found themselves in a difficult spot it might be useful to still have that ability.

“Now...” The Old Man stopped rubbing his legs. The Young man remained standing to his side while the children sat on the same chair, angrily folding their arms and engaging in a staring contest with the Twins. “This place will do for now. What do a bunch of southerners want with an old man like me?”

“I...”

I don’t think I really planned this part out too well...

“What do you think of the Beast-kin being slaves?”

The Old Man did not reply. Instead, he looked at Calo and Sheso. Anton motioned for them to show their ears. All of the Seocurians gasped when they saw the long ears poke free.

“Dark Elves.” The Young Man whispered. “So they are real.”

“We’re not some legend.” Calo sniggered. “Not like the Fire Elves.”

“What?” The other young boy tilted his head before looking at the Old Man.

“Later.” He gently tapped his head. “So you’re not Seocurians...Which makes this even stranger. What do I think of the Beast-kin as slaves?” The Old Man shrugged. “It’s been that way for thousands of winters. And I’m sure it’ll stay that way for a thousand more.”

“Perhaps...Perhaps not.”

The Old Man frowned. “What are you trying to get at, Graterian. If you’re trying to incriminate our family again then you can just forget it. The ruling families have tried that a dozen times already. All of those that took up arms against the Empire have long since perished.”

“Not exactly. If you’re talking about the Seocurians that wanted a better existence for the Beast-kin then I’m afraid that you’re wrong.”

“What?”

“They survived and fled to the Kar Kingdom. To Dragon Tooth bay, where they’ve lived for the past...Fifty odd winters in relative peace. The Kar Kingdom didn’t want to start a war with the Seocurian Empire but were already in a state of collapse, you see. So they just allowed them to live there so they could pull their forces away to try and prop up their regime. Not that it did them any good.”

“What leaf are you ingesting?” The Old Man cracked a smile. “And can I have some? You must all be smoking something very strong if you think that is going to make me confess to something.”

“I can assure you it is quite real.” Anton summoned a small Fire Bomb. The children were in awe of the rippling orange flames, the Old and Young Man were utterly terrified. “And this is nothing compared to what I can do. But those Seocurians survived. So it’s not true when you say that they’re all dead.”

“Wait.” The Old Man raised his hand. “You said they wanted a better existence for the Beast-kin?”

“Yes.”

Slowly a smile formed, followed by a dry and raspy laugh. “Then they told you what you wanted to hear.”

“Please enlighten me.”

Anton’s words, for some reason, dimmed the Old Man’s demeanour. “They didn’t want them free. No. They wanted them as...Paying Citizens, I think they called it. They would still work and die the way they always have, but they would be paid more. Well, actually paid money, that they could spend however they wanted. Can’t get taxes out of a destitute slave and the slave owner is probably powerful enough to shoo away any tax collector, and kill those brave enough to return.”

The Seocurian refugees were lying? Perhaps Ndale was old enough to remember. But, if I was in such an awful predicament as them, perhaps a little bending of the truth isn’t too bad. Especially when the alternative is death.

“And what do you think?” Anton asked. “You were telling your...Grandchildren?” The Old Man nodded. “That fear was a pointless tool. That it was much better to have them as part of the economy than just being a drain.”

The Old Man shrugged. “Just a thought experiment. Comparing the two systems, even if one barely functions...”

“I see.” Anton folded his arms. “This isn’t what I was told, but it is understandable. But I think you will agree when I say that this Paying Citizen thing is far better than being just a slave. At least there is some measure of freedom, perhaps even the possibility of becoming equals one day, as far-fetched and ridiculous as that seems.”

“Who are you?” The Old Man frowned. “Who would spout such nonsense.”

“I will not give you my name now, but know that I plan to see all of the Beast-kin freed from their shackles.”

The Old Man glared at him, his eyes furiously scanned the surroundings. “Are you insane?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You can’t just say things like that.” The Old Man slowly calmed when he couldn’t see anyone, Seocurian or Beast-kin. “They’ll have you killed. And me. Did you think about that? And they’ll kill the children as well. They’re all that’s left of House Alal. All that’s left after the purges.”

“They’ll think that I’m a crazy southerner.” Anton smiled. “A southerner with seemingly limitless pockets who has already purchased several hundred Beast-kin for a plantation that doesn’t exist. In addition to acquiring even more, without having to pay a single copper coin.”

This would be easier if Kal was with us. Just one flash of her ear and face would be more than enough. But at least this way they might think that this is some bizarre entrapment scheme, rather than going running to the other slave owners.

“You are clearly insane.” The Old Man folded his arms, even tried the same with his legs but quickly decided against it. “But...If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, and I think you are saying what I think you are, then we need to have a chat somewhere more private. This has already been dangerous enough.”

“Are you worried about a Beast-kin gardener?”

“Are you not?” The Old Man scoffed. “Who thinks of hiding something from a beaten-down dog with a pair of shears?”

---[]---

The Old Man, whose name Anton still had yet to learn, led them through the city towards the north. The buildings on this side grew ever larger and more ornate, with large perimeter fences. Strangely the architecture resembled less of the other Seocurian buildings and were more in line with Graterious and Bebbezzar.

Trying to emulate who you perceive as your betters?

One building looked far worse than the others. While it had not fallen completely into disrepair it was not far away. Given a few more years of poor maintenance it would have to be demolished, if only to protect the former occupants.

“Anton.” Calo pulled on his shirt. “How do we know this isn’t some sort of trap?”

“I don’t.” Anton gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But we have to take this risk, this jump. How else are we going to find someone that might be able to help us? The normal Seocurians certainly aren’t.”

“We’ll keep as alert as we can.” Calo’s face hardened. “But don’t let us die because of this.”

Anton gave a single nod as they neared the iron fence. The other houses had multiple, well equipped Seocurian guards. This merely had one, a man who was but a few years younger than the Old Man, with equipment to match. He barely noticed their presence as they passed through. He didn’t even notice the twins as they pulled faces and gesticulated wildly.

“Not...Not a great bodyguard.” Sheso jabbed Anton’s side. “Imagine if Cetina and Rasha were like that.”

Anton took a glance back to the sleepy Seocurian guard. “I’d need to get some new ones. Any ideas, Cetina?”

Cetina’s eye narrowed but a small smile crept up her lips. The Old Man knocked on the door and waited.

“We…” He turned and frowned at Anton. “Are not doing well. But we preserve.”

“What other choice do we have?” Anton asked aloud. The Old Man smiled and slowly nodded.

The impressive door creaked open. A young Seocurian woman poked her head out, followed by a young Shark Beast-kin. He wore a butler uniform but it was ill-fitting at best.

“We have some guests.” The Old Man said. “We’ll be in the sunroom. So prepare something to eat.”

Both gave a curt nod and opened the door. Inside lay a rather plain but well-maintained interior. Though they lacked wealth they clearly looked after what little they had very well.

But they have a Beast-kin servant. Is it to keep up appearances?

Anton laid his eyes on the Shark Beast-kin. He spoke quietly to the woman but there appeared to be no hostility or subservience in his voice or movements.

Perhaps they might be what we are looking for. One way to find out.

They did not go far into the mansion before turning to the side and entering a large room, set up with an assortment of lounges and a large glass window that allowed the Seocurian sun to stream through.

Sunroom. Very appropriate name.

Anton touched the seats. Though well maintained, like everything else, there was little that could be done to reverse the ageing process, doubly so when exposed to so much sunlight.

“Please. Have a seat.” The Old Man gently motioned towards the couches. “I believe that there is much to discuss.”

“Indeed.” Anton took his seat but the others did not. Cetina seemed a little glad that she didn’t have to tell Calo and Sheso to stay on alert.

“My name is Qinos.”

Qinos leant back into the couch. The Shark Beat-kin almost rushed to his side when he made a faint groan and winced. Qinos gently waved him back and the Beast-kin looked at Anton. While his physical body was rather intimidating, at the very least his large, jagged teeth, rough skin and narrow eyes, but his demeanour was anything but.

“And I am the leader of this household.” Qinos smiled as he waved to the ceiling. “Not that it’s worth much now.”

“Were you around when the...Radicals, were purged from Seocuria?”

“I was.” Qinos slowly nodded, his eyes misted over as he recalled a distant memory. The children took their seats and watched Qinos intently. “It was a long time ago. And I don’t really remember it that well, but I know that it was a very tumultuous time.”

“I imagine. Do you happen to remember someone by the name of Ndale?”

Qinso lightly frowned. “No. Not from memory, but it could have been someone from a family that I simply did not know.” Qinos’s frown turned to a smile. “But he would probably have to be my age, at the very least.”

“It was just a thought…” Anton leant forward. “But onto what we were discussing before you decided to bring us here.”

Qinos tensed.

“Why didn’t you call the guards when I said that the Beast-kin should be freed?”

Qinos frowned. “Because it is something utterly insane to say outside.”

“But acceptable for you in here?” Anton nodded to the Shark Beast-kin. “In front of a Beast-kin no less?”

“Alal has been in our family since he was born,” Qinos said. “He has not suffered the deprivations that the others have.”

Alal tried to smile but it held a great pain, the knowledge that he was living a decent life weighed heavily on his heart. Just like Kal when they saw the Beast-kin slaves in Porswea.

"Before we go any further I would make to like something perfectly clear."

Qinos's brows furrowed while his children tensed. Did he think that Anton was actually a Seocurian spy? It was something rather outlandish, but certainly possible.

Anton summoned several Lightning and Fire Bombs, more than enough to destroy the mansion if he so desired. He withdrew them almost as fast as he made them. He didn't want the Danafra guards to descend on this place.

"A Graterian Mage?" Qinos tried to keep his mouth from dropping open. "Here? In Danafra?"

"Yes. But..."

Let them think I am from Graterious. Just in case. No need for them to think over things that don't concern them.

"But that is not important. I merely wished to show, to demonstrate, that I am no mere punk or time waster."

Qinos frowned slightly, he likely had never heard the word punk but still gathered its general meaning.

"We're still going in circles." Qinos looked to Alal. "Could you please get us something to drink? Cold water will be fine."

Alal gave a curt nod and quickly scurried from the room. He was barefoot but his small claws made faint clacking noises against the floor.

"I'll get right to the point." Anton shuffled back into his seat and leant forward.

I wonder if this is how spies felt when they were trying to make first contact with someone? Fearful, from both sides, that it might be a trap.

"I represent a group of parties who are greatly interested in the freedom of the Beastkin."

The Seocurian servant, who's name Anton still did not know, gasped. Qinos shot her a glare but did not verbally reprimand her. The young children were disbelieving while the young man looked rather interested.

"We have been through here once before." Anton continued. "And we believe that your...temperament, towards the Beastkin, is in our best interests."

"And what could you, sorry." Qinos smiled. "Your group, possibly gain from such an action? Money? There is more money to be made as slaves than to free them."

"That's...Not entirely true though. Is it?"

Qinos's bones creaked as he leant back.

"Slaves do not pay taxes, nor do they have the money, or freedom, to purchase anything. I imagine that a significant part of the Seocurian economy relies on exports? To the point where, if it were to stop, you would suffer severely."

Qinos said nothing but Anton could see he was seriously considering his words.

The Young Man leant close to Qinos. "Isn't that similar to-"

"Hush, boy." Qinos shot him an angry glare. "It is better to stay silent at times like this."

"So that is one reason." Anton smiled, acting like he didn't hear. "A good enough reason for some."

"You have Seocurian backing?"

"Everyone would prefer to stay anonymous."

Qinos grumbled, unsatisfied with Anton's non-answer but knew he was not going to get a better one.

Alal returned with a wooden plate and several glasses full of cold water. Condensation ran down the exterior in small droplets.

"Here you are." Alal's voice was remarkably similar to Irso's, though of a slightly higher pitch.

"Thank you." Anton did not wish to drink, many poisons were invisible, and merely pretended to sip, only letting the water touch his lips. He didn't feel anything but Cetina didn't partake, neither did the twins.

Alal quietly moved back to his previous position, standing by the Seocurian servant.

"So...You wish to help the Seocurian economy?" Qinos scoffed. "Strangest thing I've heard today."

"We intend to do more than that." Anton began to search for one of his hidden gold coin pouches. "Much more. But we need someone in Seocuria that can help further our interests. Keep their eyes and ears open for any word. And..."

Anton placed the heavy purse onto the table, deliberately clinking the coins.

"Should the Seocurian Empire, as we know it, fall, that there will be someone able and strong enough to enforce order." Anton smiled. "Someone that we know we can trust."

The young man approached and took the purse. Anton knew he would never tire of the utter bewilderment when they realised just how much wealth they had in their hands.

"T-This..." He managed to stammer out before swiftly passing the bag to Qinos. The elderly Seocurian had a similar reaction, though he managed to control himself better.

"This...Is a lot of money." Qinos mumbled softly. "I don't think our family has seen this much..."

Alal and the Seocurian servant glanced closer. They too were shocked.

"Just gold coins..." Qinos managed a smirk. "If these had been plates or rings I'm sure that I'd have fainted."

"Don't do that." One of the young children pleaded. Qinos simply smiled before turning his attention to the purse.

"But as..." Anton motioned to the Young man.

"Gwili."

"As Gwili pointed out, you appear to have had similar thoughts as well."

Qinos glared at Gwili once again. "Perhaps I have. There is no harm in having a theoretical discussion."

"I'm sure the other families would disagree."

"True...True."

"So, we would like to make an investment." Anton continued. "You are free to use that money however you see fit. Personally, I would hate to see it invested in any sort of Beast-kin slavery, but if you must you must."

Anton received a quick glance from Cetina.

"But I would try to first rebuild your prestige." Anton looked around the room. "This mansion would be a good start. More money will follow, if you are willing to help us, and in so doing reclaim a place at the top of the Seocurian Empire."

"And let's say we accept..." Qinos ran his fingers over the coins. "What would we have to do?"

"Right now? Listen. Listen for anything unusual in the Seocurian Empire. Especially anything disruptive. Attacks on military convoys, slave plantations and mines. Those sort of things."

"That's it?" Gwili asked incredulously. "You give us all this, for that?"

"For now, that is all that we want. In time things will change, but will let you know. So. Do we have a deal?"

Qinos took slow, deep breaths as he mulled over what Anton had said.

We can't give away too much information. Otherwise, well, there's not much else to be done except for torching this place with everyone in it. And I don't feel like killing innocent children...

Anton's stomach churned as another suppressed memory tried to come back. While he quickly pushed it aside it was the context that sickened him the most. Thankfully no one appeared to notice.

"What...What you have given us." Qinos placed the purse by his side. "Our family is poor but also quite large. Unlike the rest of the families they work long hours." His eyes flicked to Alal. "Admittedly not as long as the Beastkin, but still a considerable time. In order to build up our family again, in the eyes of the other families, they would need time, time that is currently spent working to organise events and parties."

"Parties?" Anton raised a brow.

"It's the quickest way to raise your prestige in Seocuria. Hold a lavish and entertaining party. Everyone will talk about it, and there will be many from the lower classes that will wish to partake in that prestige. Offering wealth and financial opportunities."

"I see..."

Should have asked Kal...Wait a minute. I still can. But how do I distract them while I use the rings?

"Cetina?" Anton gently tapped his ring. "I'm not very good at the particulars. Could you please get from them exactly how much one of these parties would cost, for someone in their current social standing? I just need to stand up for a moment."

"O-Of course." Cetina put on her best business smile.

Anton stood up and Cetina began asking questions before there was any chance for Qinos to object. As Cetina began asking for a very detailed list Anton moved to the twins.

"Could you two pretend to be going through something with me?" Anton whispered. "Just...Act like your speaking to me, but just keep talking."

"Okay..." Calo looked to her sister and shrugged. "Not really sure what you want us to do...But we'll do our best."

While Cetina kept Qinos distracted with complex and redundant questions Anton used his ring to speak with Kal. While she didn't know she was with Marion, who confirmed what Qinos had said. Once done Anton returned to the chair and allowed Cetina to finish her question.

"After giving us all this money, now you want a detailed list of what it would actually entail?"

"Thank you for humouring me." Anton smiled. "But I will trust your judgement."

Qinos was still clearly confused but did not push the conversation further.

"Now. We will be far away from Danafra, even Seocuria, most of the time. So we need a way to both communicate and to arrive quickly, not to mention move money and any people around."

"These people you represent have some very deep pockets if they're able to deal with that conundrum."

To be fair, I think the communication pens are the most expensive thing. The Portal Stones I can just pick up from anywhere.

It took some time to explain and demonstrate exactly how the portal and Communication Pens worked. To ensure Atros's safety the portal would be broken on both sides and only used when absolutely necessary. He also inquired about magic proofing materials, like Mezot's old room, but Qinos did know of such a thing.

I wonder if it was actually all a big lie? Without knowing, or h the capability to know Principle Magic I might just never know.

“This...This look like relics of the Old Gods.” Qinos’s frown quickly changed to sheer bewilderment. “And...Still, you give these to us?”

“We have high hopes for you.” Anton smiled. “Seocuria will change. It’s just a matter of if you can pick up the pieces, and ensure the Seocurians have a future, or...It will collapse into nothing, only for Graterious to assume total control. I don’t think you want to be caught up in Graterian political games. Especially between the triumvirate.”

Qinos still looked bewildered but took the items nonetheless. “I...I will agree to this...Agreement. However, I will still need to speak with the rest of my family. They will need to be made aware, so they can listen for anything strange. And so they do not question or damage these artefacts.”

“My thanks.” Anton held out his hand for Qinos to shake. Though not a Seocurian custom he took and shook it, slightly apprehensively though. “But now we must be off. I hope that our investment was worthwhile. I look forward to hearing of your families ascendancy in Seocurian politics.”

Qinos gave a nod as Anton beckoned everyone to follow. Alal and the still nameless servant jumped and led the way out of the mansion, leaving Qinos is silence.

The two servants bid them a good day and hurriedly closed the door behind them, the sound of a metal latch locking echoed from behind. Calo and Sheso clearly had questions but Anton signalled for them to wait until they were clear of the mansion, and its sleepy solitary guard, who still barely noticed them pass.

I wonder if that's a ploy? It's certainly fooled me.

"Okay." Calo looked along the streets, seeing that no one was nearby. "Was all, or any of that wise?"

"Surely they could just tell the other Seocurian families and then we'd be in serious trouble." Sheso quietly added.

"There is." Anton nodded. "There is that chance. But there's every chance the others will think that they're hiding something else. If they've been contacted by someone like me...Well, why them in the first place? It raises a lot of questions. Questions, and attention, I think they would rather not have."

Anton looked to the mansion once more. Now that he truly looked he saw that it was in an even worse state than he first thought. The support beams had rotted, covered in dried salt carried from the port, the stones had fractures running everywhere and had begun to disintegrate, that too bought on by the salt.

"I think they're going to just appreciate the money, if nothing else."

"Qinos isn't stupid." Cetina frowned. "He can easily guess what you want, with that last little bit you threw him."

"I think that he believes we'll have the Beastkin as equals, which they deserve to be, but not that we want them out of here." Anton sighed. "I don't think there's much chance of the Beastkin and Seocurians reconciling in our lifetimes." Anton patted the twins' heads. "Even yours, for that matter. But having someone friendly to us in charge will go a long way to preserving peace, no matter how fragile. Besides, it only needs to last until we have the Beastkin out of Seocuria. Everything else is just a bonus."

"A big gamble." Cetina gave his hand a squeeze. "I hope it works."

Anton laughed. "So do I." He motioned for them to start moving. "A very big gamble. And, hopefully, the last one I'll have to make for a very long time."

"You shouldn't talk like that." Cetina took his arm around hers, ignored the narrowed eyes of the twins, as they calmly walked back towards the west, where the Dark Elves were waiting with a portal back to Atros.

---[]---

"Do you think they're crazy?" Gwili asked.

Qinos barely heard his grandson, his attention lay firmly on the small table before him, lying on a bag of magical stones, a large purse of gold coins and a pen that would mimic the actions of the other.

What...What madness is this?

"Qinos?"

"Hmm?" Qinos looked up. Gwili did not face him. Instead, he looked out the window, towards the disappearing forms of four very strange people. "Sorry, Gwili. My mind was elsewhere. As you can probably imagine."

His other three grandchildren, mercifully quiet during the proceedings, hopped down from their chair and began to inspect the purse of gold coins. They held them in their hands like they were the most fragile and important things in existence. Certainly, it was more wealth than their family had seen in some time.

When the rest hear about just how much money this Anton is going to throw at us, for information...There's no way they're going to say no.

Qinos shook his head before running a bony hand through his hair.

"Greed...Greed is always a good motivator. And corroder of morals."

"Qinos?" Gwili moved from the window to sit next to him.

"Just a small thought." Qinos smiled.

"I think we should do it," Gwili spoke sternly and with conviction, something Qinos rarely saw in him. "We have been given this for information? Seems like a very good deal."

"Too good." Qinos plucked a gold coin from the purse. "No one would give away so much wealth for so little. Besides, didn't you hear what he said near the end? Threatening us with Graterian invasions if we don't agree."

"Surely he cannot be that powerful?"

"No...Not politically. Certainly.” Qinos felt the conviction ebb from his voice. “Surely. But...But. I do think that he thinks that he can. At the very least he’s managed to convince those three that he can. But to have only women…”

Qinos shrugged. He had once had a harem, a small one compared to some of the other families, but they were long gone now.

“But...It is the only way that we will restore our family to greatness.” Gwili lazily gestured to the walls, specifically the walls. Though much physical work had been done, it could only delay the inevitable, and soon the mansion would become uninhabitable. “We’ve been working harder than any family since the purges and yet we’ve only gone backwards.”

“I-”

Gwili raised his hand. “You have done an excellent job of guiding us through these troubling times...But it’s just not enough.” Gwili nodded to the purse of gold coins. “And this is not something that’s just going to come by us again.”

Qinos sighed. Gwili was right, in a sense. There was simply no way for their family to rise, no matter how hard they worked or even schemed, not with the other families keeping a firm eye on them, but…

“We will work with them for now.” Qinos softly sighed. “For now. We’ll take their money and give them what they ask. But...But if they ask for too much, or wish to make us their sacrificial pawns in some mad game, then we’ll cast them aside.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather difficult? They know where we are.”

“We won’t use this money to restore our mansion or our prestige.” Qinos faintly smiled. “We’ll invest it, to make more money. A bit of a gamble, but we can drastically increase what we have if we are daring enough. Then we can rebuild our prestige and hire and train an armed force large enough to fend off them and the other families.”

“Not to mention it would put them on edge.” Gwili smiled. “I like it.”

“Do…” Alal spoke up, his voice shaking. “Do you think that one day we will be free?” The Shark Beast-kin’s nostrils flared. “That...I won’t have to hide…”

He looked at Lethu, their only Seocurian servant, as they gently brushed their hands against each other.

“Don’t do that here,” Qinos whispered harshly. “You never know who might be watching.”

The two whipped their hands away. Qinso softly sighed as he looked back to the purse of gold. He had stumbled upon the two, some time ago, locked in a very passionate embrace. Though their relationship was more than forbidden they seemed deeply in love. Qinos was more concerned about the children that would inevitably follow, even though he had warned them it did nothing to stop their nightly rendezvous. Probably the opposite, actually.

“But would we be free?” Alal asked. Determination swelled within his chest. “I love-”

“I know!” Qinos stopped himself from shouting. “I know. I don’t know if they mean to have you free, but I doubt it will happen in our lifetimes. Even your children, which…”

“Are we going to have a new brother or sister?” One of the young children asked.

Qinos gently held their head. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that would be a good idea.” He glanced to the two servants. “They would live a terrible life. A Half-Breed isn’t going to live a good life.”

Lethu held her stomach. Qinos could only hope that there wasn’t a life slowly growing within.

“Which only makes what he said even more confusing…” Qinos slowly nodded. “While we give them information we will try and investigate on our own. Find out what they’re really up to.”

“Dangerous?”

“Yes.” Qinos looked out the window. “But being an unknowing pawn in a game of nations is even more dangerous. And I don’t intend to be simply used by some uppity Graterian and his loyal harem.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 48 - Frindal

Anton felt the salty spray of the sea on his face. He stood at the prow of The Snowberry, looking out across the endless seas. It struck him just how beautiful the sea was but also how dangerous it could be. A single fire could destroy their ship and condemn everyone to a watery grave. He seriously doubted if he would survive clinging to a piece of driftwood, doubly so with the sun beaming down upon them.

“So peacefu-”

“There!”

Anton looked back. Verona and Kal, obviously wearing her mask, stood by Calo and Sheso as the Dark Elf twins fished over the side railing. Verona was the one shouting order, even though there was little she could do from the railings. Cetina stood between them, her arms folded and her eyes closed as she tried to enjoy the moment of calm.

“You almost had it.” Verona laughed. “I saw it. I saw the dammed fish right under the surface. It was coming for your bait-”

“It was probably scared away by your shouting.” Kal teased. “But it’s not like we need them.”

Verona shrugged. “I like fish. They taste great.”

“After you’ve only eaten fish for a few seasons the novelty wears off,” Sheso grumbled. Her sister silently agreed.

As they returned to their fishing another noise caught Anton’s attention. It came from the other side of the ship, from someone Anton did not expect to be so weak against sea sickness. Mezot and Axia sat with their backs against the railings, holding their staves against their chests as they rocked from side to side.

“I’ve already healed both of you.” Anton shook his head. “What is wrong with you both?”

“There’s so much water,” Axia mumbled. She looked to her charm, smaller than her mother’s with red gemstones instead of blue. “So much water…What if we’re lost forever?!”

“Are you serious?” Anton knelt before them. “Your mother grew up in a fishing village-”

“I didn’t!”

“We didn’t go this far from the shore,” Mezot mumbled. “We could always see the shore…And our ships were only small fishing boats at best.”

“We’ve been on this ship before.” Anton sat down and shuffled his way between them. “It’s going to be alright. Once we’ve made port we’ll be on solid ground for a while. And we’ll use the portals so we don’t have to use the ship.”

“Headaches or this?” Axia chuckled nervously. She leant forward slightly. “I don’t know which is worse…”

“Don’t be like that.” Anton held both of their heads. “We’ll be fine while I’m here. So just relax.”

Their breathing did indeed calm. If Anton had learnt anything from Verona and Kal, and even Cetina, just gently holding their heads was enough to calm them.

Although…That might be for other reasons…

Nevertheless, their breathing calmed and their grips on their staffs relaxed somewhat. Mezot looked at the wooden floor, a faint redness to her ears, while Axia smirked at the sight and looked towards their destination, never removing his hand.

“Frindal.” Axia murmured. “The Frindal Emirate. What’s it like?”

Anton looked to Mezot. She had the most knowledge but she did not respond. Before he could ask her directly he saw Wilford approaching. The former smuggler looked rather nervous, holding his head low and his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Wilford. You’re looking rather nervous.” Anton chuckled. He removed his hand, Mezot seemed rather annoyed. “Please tell me you don’t owe money to someone in the Frindal Emirate. Because that would make things very difficult for us, having our captain hauled away and our ship probably seized.”

“It’s not that bad-”

“That’s a yes.” Axia smiled at Anton.

Behind Wilford the four stopped fishing, fastened the rod to the railing and walked to Anton’s side. He remained seated while the others leant against the railings.

“I do owe some money.” Wilford did not like being at the centre of attention. “But it’s not that much-”

“How much?” Verona and Axia asked simultaneously.

“A few gold coins.” Wilford ran a hand through his salt-stained hair, smiling nervously. “I may have…Tried to bed the Sultan’s daughter-”

“Do we just throw him off the ship now?” Cetina asked dryly. “I think we’re going to be in enough trouble-”

“Daughter’s handmaid.” Wilford continued. “So it’s not like I actually slept with his daughter. At least that time. She…Anyway…”

Anton studied Wilford more closely again.

He’s not an ugly man, nor a handsome one. Perhaps he has a way with words in private. Or a way with his hands…Or, since he’s a smuggler, perhaps he has access to some particularly ‘agreeable’ narcotics.

“Well, if we dock and they arrest you on sight, we’re just going to leave you there,” Anton said. “I think you know why.”

Wilford smiled. “That won’t happen. Besides, I’ve been saving up and have more than enough to pay him back for the outrage it caused him. It’s nothing serious after all. He was the one who helped me escape. If he really wanted me dead then I wouldn’t have made it out of the palace.”

“All because you wanted your dick sucked.” Verona shook her head.

Mezot threw Verona an angry look, angry for Mezot, as her daughter was right beside Anton. She failed to remember that Axia knew her swearwords already and probably knew a great deal more about things than Mezot thought.

“Perhaps…” Wilford looked at Anton. “…Regardless, I think that dealing with my issue should be first and foremost. Once we’ve gotten that little detail out of the way I’m sure the Sultan will be more than willing to help you…Do whatever it is you’re doing here.”

“Right…” Anton folded his arms. “So tell me about the Frindal’s. Anything we ought to be careful of? No gods to offend or customs to look out for?”

Wilford gently rubbed his salt-stained beard. "Anything to be careful about? Not really. Unless you plan having your...Female companions dress any lighter."

“The lightest dressed are the twins.” Anton leant forward. “Verona and Kal won’t be coming with us this time…Unless they have a problem with women as soldiers.” Anton nodded to Cetina. “Do they have problems with a woman in steel? Because I don’t.”

Cetina rolled her eye but still smirked.

“No.” Wilford looked for something to lean against but couldn’t find anything. He moved to the railing next to Cetina, Cetina kept her hand ready to draw her weapon at a moment’s notice. “No. But they do have some quirks compared to Graterious.”

“Such as?”

"I wouldn't be caught kissing a man there." Wilford's lips curled up. "I lost two of my best sailors that way. They weren't doing it outside. Obviously. They weren’t that stupid.” Wilford sighed. “But when there are only two men in a room and there’s grunting and the slapping of flesh-”

Mezot hurriedly leant over Anton to cover her daughter’s ears. Without noticing, or caring that she had her elbows dangerously close to Anton’s crotch she flapped her hands towards Axia. Axia rolled her eyes and leant closer, so Mezot could cover her ears.

“Honestly…” Axia muttered, throwing Anton a smirk. “Just wait until she realises what she’s done.”

“She is very protective of you.” Anton looked down at Mezot’s elbows digging into his thigh. “Though she shows it in the strangest ways.”

Wilford raised his hands. “Sorry. I won’t talk like that again.”

Mezot removed her hands and resumed her normal posture. Never once did her expression reveal she understood what she had done.

“But it is true, unfortunately. They found them together, in the act, and had them hauled out into the street in the middle of the night. We didn’t have a chance to do anything before they were beheaded. Not a pretty sight…We left pretty much soon after that.”

Wilford shook his head. “Not to mention the Inn didn’t want anything to do with us. They don’t want it to be known that homosexuals visit there. Even more so that they had…intimate relations under their roof. I wonder if it’s still there?”

"One of our Dwarves was nearly thrown from a roof for rearranging someone's forge."

Wilford smiled. "They'll do that too. But only to outsiders."

"Dwarves could pass for bearded squat children." Anton shrugged. "If you squeezed your eyes just right, that is."

“And that goes for women as well.” Wilford continued. “I’m not questioning whatever’s going on with all of you, but I wouldn’t even hold hands in Frindal. Don’t even be too familiar with each other.”

“I’m starting to guess that this place has a problem with any kinds of homosexuality,” Anton said dryly. “The Gays…”

Wilford nodded at Mezot and Axia. “You two, as mother and daughter, at least I assume you are, are probably alright. You’ll probably still get some odd looks.”

“Even us?” Calo asked, raising a black brow. “We’re Dark Elves-”

“Should be alright.” Wilford shrugged. “Don’t start throttling each other with your tongues and you’ll be fine.”

“I think we get the idea.” Anton shook his head. “Hopefully, as outsiders, they’ll give us a little leeway.”

Wilford clicked his tongue. “They can be a prickly people. Especially those on the coast. The nomads in the centre are much better, but you won’t find them anywhere near these ports. They…They don’t get along very well. There’s a whole bunch of messy and bloody history between the two. They really don’t even see each other as belonging to the same…group.”

Wilford smiled nervously. “Whatever you do, don’t tell them they’re the same. That’s a very quick way to get yourself killed.”

"I don't plan staying in Frindal itself for too long anyway, if there’s little of note."

A cry came from the crow’s nest. Land slowly rose above the horizon.

"And neither will you. My destination is the Feral Beast-kin in the east. I want to see the Lamia’s…Anyway, while we do that I want you to sail to your next destination. What's a good destination from here?"

"Probably...Probably the Holy Kingsland. They're not too far away, and we can stop back in The Dwarven Isles, stock up on supplies and sell some goods we buy here." Wilford smiled. "We won't even be leaving the port. The Dwarves are a little more forgiving of indiscretions. A little bit.”

“Umikgruid seems pretty nice,” Verona said. “But…But I don’t know about the other clans.”

Cetina shrugged. “They seemed pretty rude and arrogant to me. But that was to Umikgruid when they were wondering where their smiths were. But they were much nicer on the surface.”

“Exactly.” Wilford smiled. “Everyone’s nice and kind when there’s money involved. Not so much when they’re going to lose it. But, in all seriousness, you’ll need a guide to get anywhere in Frindal. Beyond the coast things get very dry, very fast. There are springs and oasis’s, but you aren’t just going to find them on your own. And I’d hate for you to die out in the desert.”

We can just make a water skin produce an infinite amount of water. Still, I don’t want to be wandering the desert for weeks, only to get killed by a scorpion.

“And your Sultan friend has such a guide?”

Wilford shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Oh, but you need to make sure that you don’t get someone that works for the Sana Vākara. They’re religious fanatics of the worst kind. They’ll probably encourage you to make a mistake so they can extort money from you. Or worse. The more heretics and unbelievers they find the more prestige they get. All lovely stuff."

"Using religion to make money.” Anton scoffed. “Things don’t change.”

"But they have giant armies. The Frindals, not the Sana Vākara. Armies that put anything the Shattered Kingdom’s can muster to shame. They’re not the best equipped or trained but there are a lot of them. Every man learns how to fight as part of their youth, it's only natural their forces are strong."

Something washed over Anton. It felt identical to him touching Ghlyirl, though to a lesser extent than the helmet. His heart raced until he realised everyone else was suffering to some degree; Verona and Kal looked confused, Cetina tapped her eyepatch while Mezot and Axia were in a mild state of panic. Calo and Sheso looked completely unaffected, their concern was directed at their concern and discomfort.

“What is this?” Axia furiously scratched at her arms. “I-I can’t. What is this? It feels like my mana is being stopped. Its so thick.”

Mezot was just as confused. “I have never felt something like this before…”

“Like there’s a tiny piece of Ghlyirl touching us simultaneously.” Anton mused.

Wilford frowned as he looked between them. “Why…Didn’t you know that Frindal has some sort of magic dampening field?”

“No.” Anton stood up. His tail’s charge was left unaffected by the dampening effect. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you knew.” Wilford continued to frown, his eyes slightly narrowing. “I was wondering why you were bringing mages to Frindal. I thought they were just powerful mages and you were going to push through the dampening…”

“Did you know anything about this?” Anton lightly tapped Mezot’s side.

Mezot remained silent. She was too engrossed in the sensation to respond. He lightly bumped her again, her head snapped towards him, not out of anger but curiosity.

“Did you know that Frindal has a mana dampening field?”

Mezot blinked. “I thought you knew.” She looked at her Charm. “I thought you were experimenting with Principle Magic…”

Anton softly sighed. “I think in future we all need to plan a little better. Even if it’s simple or common knowledge we should not presume anything.”

“What is creating this field?” Mezot rose to her feet. She opened her hand and cast a simple icicle magic. It emerged from the ether like normal but Mezot’s frown deepened. “My magic is not impeded, only my ability to use mana efficiently. Considerably more mana is required…This is incredibly interesting.”

Anton summoned a small fireball. “It’s easily four times as much mana for me.”

“No mages in Frindal?” Kal asked.

Wilford shook his head. “There are some, but most want to work anywhere else. No one wants to struggle to learn in such an oppressive place.”

“That would make the other powers far less likely to invade them,” Anton said. “Large traditional armies make more sense...”

Wilford titled his head, waiting for Anton to finish but it never came.

Since our new weapons don't need magic to function it should be an easy victory, should we ever fight. I hope we don't. We have no reason to right now. Atros still isn't strong enough to fight another power. For now, at least.

“What about the portal?” Verona leant forward. “Does it still work? Will it…Fail? And scatter bits of us across the world?”

“Does this field extend across the entire continent?” Anton asked. “If it does then we might not be able to get to the Wild Beast-kin.”

“I’ve heard it doesn’t,” Wilford said. He waited for Mezot to add something but she was far more interested in her icicle to notice. “But that’s just hearsay. I could be wrong.”

“I’ll check,” Cetina said. “I’ll see if it still works. If-”

“If it doesn’t then you could be killed.” Anton stepped behind an oblivious Mezot and held Cetina’s hand. “And you don’t need to be told why I don’t want that to happen.”

“I’ll go,” Calo said. “Just step through and come back. Right?”

“But if it doesn’t work you could die,” Anton said softly. “And not pleasantly. It could just stop halfway through and, I don’t know, your blood arrives before you do.”

“It’ll be fine.” Calo lightly punched his arm. “Besides, we haven’t done much recently. We’ve only been in one battle, sort of, so we can do this.”

“I’d still-”

“Calo will be more than willing to do it,” Sheso smirked. “I’ll stay here.”

Calo stuck out her tongue. “At least I’m willing to do something to prove that I’m willing to do more than just hide at the rear of the battle.”

The two began a staring contest while everyone watched in silence. Verona tapped his chest and motioned for him to lean down.

“If something happens out there with those two, just be gentle with them.” Verona winked. “I’m sure that nothing will…But you never know…”

“What are you saying?” Sheso asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anton stood upright. “But…I do want the portal tested, but not at the expense of one of my friends.”

Calo jabbed her sister’s side.

“So I’ll send a summon through first.” Anton began to walk towards the stairs down to the lower decks. “And when I’m back, Wilford, I want to know everything about this Sultan friend of yours.”

---[]---

Anton was glad to be standing on the solid dock of the Frindal port city. Cetina, Mezot, Axia, Calo and Sheso were joining him, all were equally relieved to be on solid ground, especially the Graterians. Wilford and a few sailors had joined them but Verona and Kal were staying with the ship. Since the portal proved functional, Calo suffered no side effects other than a very nasty headache, they would pass back through once The Snowberry had reached open water.

“Be safe!” Verona shouted from the edge of the ship. “Tell us if you’re in trouble! I’ll send Rasha through. She’ll knock out anyone giving you a hard time.”

“Contact us when you stop for the night.” Kal frantically waved. “I want to hear what you’ve found.”

“Oh. And bring back some good food! I want to have some of these spices Cetina was talking about!”

“I will!” Anton returned the wave. “I’ll see you all real soon. Probably tonight. Maybe we’ll have some more friends to come back with us!”

Verona’s smirk spoke more than words ever could. They gave a final wave and retreated from the railing. If they didn’t they would probably spend quite some time shouting things back and forth.

“Come on.” Wilford nodded towards the city. “I’m sure the Sultan already knows I’m here.”

“If you’re really a wanted man we don’t know you,” Cetina said softly. “We’ll just turn away.”

“I understand.” Wilford frowned at Anton. “How do you train someone to be so…Aggressive?”

“Only aggressive to people she doesn’t like.” Anton turned around and clapped his hands, pointing them at Mezot and Axia. “Now, you two, especially you two, cover your charms and don’t wander off. Especially you, Mezot.”

“I wouldn’t…” Mezot trailed off as her daughter repeatedly jabbed her in the side. “I won’t.”

“Use this.” Wilford ripped a few loose pieces of cloth perched underneath a stack of crates marked with the symbol of the Frindal Emirate. Seeing the symbol elicited a groan from the Dark Elves lips.

Axia thanked Wilford as they wrapped it around their Charms. Walking around with the large staffs would still draw attention, infinitely less than with their metal and gem-encrusted Charms on full display.

“If memory serves me he should be in the city itself…That way.” Wilford pointed to a large cluster of tall buildings, Anton was unsure which it was. “If he’s still in charge, that is. Leadership in Frindal is…Fluid. At the best of times.”

“Probably a good thing.” Anton mused as they began walking down the dock. “At least for the rest of the world.”

The Frindal port was slightly larger than Alcanares but the buildings were radically different than any of those on their home continent. What struck Anton first was the dock itself. They walked over immaculately laid large hexagonal stones with smaller squares filling in the blanks. The centre of each square held the emblem of the Frindal Emirate, once a brilliant blue paint covered it but that had been worn away with time, while the hexagons were rather plain but well-furnished and had survived intact with considerable foot traffic and crates and supplies constantly being dropped on it.

Next were the people of Frindal. Their skin was somewhat darker than Cetina’s, darker than anyone in Bebbezzar, and all those on the dock looked weathered and had tiny lines of salt on their hair. Compared to most people’s Anton had so far seen they appeared to have far more body hair, though it could have simply been that they did not shave their beards as often as those from his continent. He could not see one without a large beard. Most were not impressive, rather had been allowed to grow as long as they did not impede their work. He was glad to not see any Beast-kin slaves amongst the dockworkers, who gave them a curious glance but quickly returned to their duties.

“At least we won’t draw too much attention.” Anton mused. “At least on the coast.”

Cetina did not look so sure.

Wilford led them towards the wall cradling the dock and separating them from the city itself.

“What’s the name of this place?” Axia asked. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Khoradeh.” Wilford almost smiled. “It’s not the capital of Frindal but it’s a major port city. I don’t want to go to the capital. Far too noisy for my tastes, but you can get just about everything you want here. Also, it’s the furthest east that accepts foreign ships. I don’t think we can just take The Snowberry and dock in some poor fishing village. The poor people will have a heart attack, or think it’s an invasion or pirate raid.”

They approached the outer wall of Khoradeh. It was fashioned from large sandstone blocks with many elaborate spires along the top of the wall, designed more for atheistics and not for defence. Only one gate allowed traffic through to the city, an odd economic choice for a city, but there was undoubtedly some reason.

“There aren’t any market stalls,” Anton said.

“What?” Wilford slowed.

“In all the other ports I’ve been in there’s usually someone that’s trying to sell us something. Even if it’s just fish they’ve literally just caught.” He waved his hands towards the rest of the docks. While the people were hard at work, loading and unloading supplies, there was little in the way of commerce. “Does everything have to happen inside the city?”

“Yes. That way the Sultan gets his fair share.” Wilford scoffed. “Taxes. No different. But that’s the way they want to do things and that’s the way it’s going to be. Unless you want to be like him.”

Wilford pointed to a young man struggling to carry a small chest. At first, Anton couldn’t understand his difficulty. When the man nearly dropped the chest he understood. Several of his fingers had been removed. Cleanly too, no rough edges or signs of an animal attack.

“Criminal?”

“Possibly.” Wilford shrugged. “Or maybe he was caught trying to sell something outside of the market limits.”

“Surely you can talk about selling something and not have to do it there.” Sheso stepped up her pace. “Like buying a house?”

“Of course you can.” Wilford smiled. “But I wouldn’t dream of giving money to the man outside of the market area.”

They joined a long line of people entering the city itself. Again something bothered Anton.

“I can’t see any women.” He said softly to Cetina.

She looked back and immediately pulled closer to Anton. The men behind them were glaring, a bizarre mixture of shock and dismay with an undercurrent of anger.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Wilford said, more so to Cetina. “Women tend not to be soldiers here.”

“That’s hardly my problem.” Cetina stared back at the men until they shied their vision away.

Slowly they advanced to the front of the queue. The guards looked remarkably similar to those they had seen from the Frindal delegation in the Graterious Imperial Palace. These did not wear armour or wield weapons as impressive as those but they still looked formidable. Anton could tell from Cetina’s stance that she thought she could take all four at once. Anton did not doubt she could, whether or not she would slip into her trance state was another thing entirely.

“And what are northerners doing in Khoradeh?” A guard asked from behind an open visor. Despite his deeply tanned skin, Anton saw the distinct redness of sunburn around his eyes. He doubted the man moved much for the entire day.

“We are here to see Sultan Hazm el-Hamad,” Wilford spoke calmly. “We have business with the Sultan and I’m sure he will be more than glad to see me.”

Anton wondered if that was true, but they did need a guide through these lands, a guide that wouldn’t be a secretively religious fanatic waiting to gain prestige or extort money.

“I don’t know about that…” The guard shrugged. “But so long as you don’t cause a fuss inside that’s none of my problem. So long as you pay your toll.”

Wilford mumbled and stepped to the side for Anton to pay. Anton did not care too much, he was going to be paying for everyone else anyway, and paid the meagre toll. While it was rather little he noticed that the women, meaning everyone bar himself and Wilford, had to pay almost double.

Not the time for moral grandstanding. Worst that happens is that they just have to cover up a bit more.

The guard returned his change and looked over Mezot. “Just be careful. Some people can have issues with people like you.”

“Then I’ll give them a taste of my sword,” Cetina said softly. “I’m not going to let anyone push me around because I’m a woman.”

“Not that…” The guard sighed and ushered them forward. “Just try not to get into anything stupid. The laws here are not the same as Bebbezzar or Graterious.”

Oh, so they know which places we come from? Must have quite a few traders then.

Anton gave the man a curt nod as they passed through the gate and into the markets. Life and activity swarmed before them, a bustling and crowded swarm of humanity desperately trying to sell or hawk their wares. Large pieces of brightly coloured cloth extended out from the tops of the stalls, almost reaching the next stall, creating a narrow path for the bright light to stream through.

“Come on.” Wilford waved them forward. “We’re just going to draw attention if we’re standing here. You can come here and shop if you want once we’re done.”

Anton agreed and silently motioned for the others to follow. Calo and Sheso were no longer slack-jawed at seeing so many people, after visiting Alcanares markets, and followed Anton and Cetina closely. Mezot and Axia were only slightly stunned by the sight. Anton knew they had seen busy markets in Graterious, especially in Boreana, but these were different, not just in appearance but also smell too.

“Come on.” Anton waved them forward. “We can come back when we’re done with Wilford.”

The two glanced at each other and quickly joined them. Criers shouted at them to purchase their wares, piles of spices of the full spectrum of colour sat in small raised wooden boxes, more open stalls sold simple weapons and armour, fashioned for the dry and hot climate. Many sold trinkets and everyday necessities, none of which interested Anton. He continued to glance over his shoulder. The twins held the rear and made sure Mezot and Axia were safe in the middle. Thankfully they attracted only a little more attention than anyone else.

Behind the market stalls Anton saw the first Frindal women. They dressed heavily, wearing brightly coloured full length shawls with swirling and floral patterns along with a type of headscarf that wrapped around their head, enough to hide their hair and protect their forehead from the sun. A thin veil covered their mouth and nose. Small pieces of silver and gold jewellery were attached along the bottom of the cloth covering the mouth, acting as weights and decorations. A band of a light brown wood ran along the nose to support the cloth.

Below that the layers of cloth, a surprising choice in such a hot climate, almost reached the ground but not quite. Anton could just see that she wore simple boots, just like the Frindal men, but these were smaller and adorned with a simpler pattern to the shawl. The shawl’s long sleeves covered most of their arms, however the woman had a single arm free. A tight cloth wrapped around her arm, again in the same pattern as her shawl albeit a darker shade, up to her wrist. A gold band was fastened to her wrist, from that the tight cloth extended to the base of her middle finger and a smaller golden ring.

“Interesting,” Anton said softly.

Cetina leant around him and followed his line of sight. The woman frowned slightly as she looked back at Cetina.

“Those are some beautiful fabrics,” Cetina said. She tapped Anton’s side. “Do you want to buy some for home? The seamstresses would love to work with that, since they’re normally just using wool or even Ulyaa’s silk.”

“Are you interested in this?” The woman spoke loudly in a slightly sultry voice. She ran a bare hand over the cloth covering her mouth and the edge of the shawl around her shoulder. “We have many types of cloth available for purchase.”

She moved to the side and showed off rolls and rolls of fabrics nearly identical to the material she wore. Many caught his eye, Anton wasn’t a fashion aficionado but he knew what he liked.

“I’m afraid that we cannot stop right now.” Anton smiled. “But I know that we’ll definitely have a look when we’re done with the Sultan.”

The woman almost took a step back. A Frindal man, wearing loose simple clothing, with only a small shawl of bright cloth, peered from behind one of the hanging rolls and looked rather concerned. Mezot and Axia were enthralled by the bright colours but Anton ushered them forward.

“B-But…” Axia stammered. “But-”

“We’ll be back and we’ll get something pretty.” Anton stepped back and ushered them forward. He had to hold their shoulders tight to get them to move. “I promise you both.”

“Alright,” Axia muttered.

“I…” Mezot seemed particularly impressed by some of the blue coloured cloth.

“We’ll come back,” Anton whispered into her ear. His breath brushed against her ear, causing her whole face to turn red. Anton gently patted her shoulder and pushed her forward. Anton gave a final wave to the Frindal woman and continued following Wilford.

It took them several minutes to leave the sprawling market, even though they were not impeded by the thick crowds, and into the actual city beyond. The buildings were tall and made from the same sandstone as the wall, the richer areas were adorned with bright blues and gold covering their exterior. Most of the buildings had a terrace garden. Like Seocuria there were several small awnings with flowing and small flowering plants. There were no plants on the ground level, not even small flowering pots. Anton wasn’t sure why but he knew there was certainly a good reason.

Just like the port guards had said there was absolutely no sign of any kind of trading or selling beyond the loose boundary of the markets. Many Frindal men and women passed them by, wearing the same style of clothes as the merchants, and only gave them a cursory glance.

“I don’t see any beggars,” Anton said. He looked along the narrow alleyways between the tall buildings. “And none of the people look particularly poor.”

Wilford chuckled. “It’s incredible what a few pieces of cloth can do. Most of the people you’ve seen aren’t that rich, their clothes just last a really long time. But there are beggars…Just not where any visitors can see them. Unless they want to become a salve. Or a Fighter…”

“Fighters?” Anton asked, followed shortly by the Dark Elf twins in unison.

“It’s a form of entertainment.”

Wilford waited until they reached a crossroads and pointed deeper into the city. He pointed to a large circular building, a type of colosseum, with large Frindal flags flapping the breeze. Once they stopped he could hear cheering and shouting echoing from the colosseum.

“Very profitable.” Wilford smiled. “If you’re looking for a good place to gamble that’s the place.”

“I seem to…” Anton scratched his chin. “Are they fights to the death?”

“No! No, by the gods no.” Wilford continued walking towards the Sultan’s residence. “Very rarely in fact. You can’t have good matches if your best fighters constantly die. Well…Sometimes they have slaves fight to the death but that’s only for special occasions. Like the marriage of the Sultan’s son. Something like that.”

“They celebrate a wedding with murder?” Axia asked dryly. “I thought that weddings were supposed to be good, happy things.”

Mezot looked slightly despondent.

“Weddings tend to be either way,” Anton said. “Either they’re great or an absolute disaster. Tons of relatives getting into petty arguments…If you’re drunk and watching the carnage it can be great fun.”

“Was your wedding like that?” Axia trotted next to Anton. “With Verona and Kal? I bet that was interesting…”

“I haven’t actually had a wedding yet.” Anton ruffled Axia’s hair. “But at least with them, I don’t have too many relations to worry about.”

Axia merely threw him an odd look as they continued walking towards the Sultan’s residence. The houses became taller and more affluent, at first there were only sporadic guards outside of homes but as they neared their destination almost every building had a small cadre of guards. These looked to be of a better quality than the guards at the dock but none moved from their positions as they passed. Their job was to stop intruders, not harass passers-by.

Wilford stopped before a large iron gate surrounding a particularly ostentatious building. A line of shield baring guards stood outside, behind the gate stood another line of archers.

“Okay.” Wilford clapped his hands. “Just don’t do anything stupid and we’ll be fine.”

“I can still use magic,” Anton said. “As can Mezot and Axia. But don’t think that they’ll risk their lives for you.”

Wilford planted his hand on his hip. “You’re being rather aggressive.”

“You didn’t tell us you were in trouble with the local lord,” Cetina spoke with no emotion.

“We’ll be fine.”

Wilford cleared his throat and tried to approach the guards with a measure of confidence. He knew that the guards had been watching and listening but tried to play it off.

“Greetings.” Wilford bowed low. “My name is Wilford. I wish to meet Sultan Hazm el-Hamad. I have unresolved business with him.”

One of the archer guards silently turned and walked to the building. He spoke with a Frindal woman, wearing more gold and silver than any he had seen in the city. The woman entered pried the door open slightly and slipped inside while the archer waited patiently outside.

Cetina tapped his side. “They don’t look like they have any sort of magical protection.”

“I can barely use magic.” Anton mused. “How’s your eyepatch holding up?”

“So far, so good.” Cetina smiled. “It’s a little annoying, like it’s out of focus, but I can still fight.”

“I wonder if the Sultan knows anything about the mana dampening field.” Anton looked at Mezot. “Do you know if the United Empire managed to conquer the Frindal’s?”

Anton quickly glanced at the guards. They gave no sign they were interested in their conversation but he knew they were listening intently to every word.

“I believe they did,” Mezot said softly. She too threw worried looks to the Frindal guards. “But I don’t know much else.” Mezot sighed, holding her staff tight. “I didn’t get much time to explore the Academy library before I…We had to flee.”

“A good question for the Sultan.” Anton saw the door open and the archer return. “Perhaps we can convince him that we’re here for research purposes if we sound like academics.”

“You do have two Principle Mages with you,” Axia said softly.

The archer guard spoke with a shield guard, one who’s armour had small adornments of gold.

“The Sultan will see you now.” The Guard spoke softly but with authority. “But you will need to leave your weapons at the gate. No exceptions.”

“What about us?” Mezot asked. “I…”

“What of my friends?” Anton nodded to Mezot and Axia.

“Their staffs as well.” The Guard frowned. “Though magic is far more difficult in Frindal it is not impossible.”

“I guess that’s a yes.” Anton lightly sighed. “But can our safety be guaranteed?”

“The rules of hospitality require us not to harm guests.” The guard frowned lightly. “But we will defend ourselves if attacked.”

“I understand.” Anton turned to Cetina and leant close to her ear. “Keep a blade or two.”

Cetina nodded as she unfastened her sword and her dagger. The guards appreciated how quickly and willing they were to follow their rules. Two archer guards pulled the iron gate open but did not move to allow them passage. They accepted Cetina’s weapons, not checking her armour plates for her hidden blades, Calo and Sheso’s short swords, not checking for the numerous small blades they kept on their bodies, at least Anton hoped they did, and Mezot and Axia’s staff. One guard briefly opened the cloth wrapping and was quite surprised by the Charm lying within.

“That is extremely expensive,” Anton said. “I’ll be holding you personally responsible should they be damaged in any way.”

The guard nodded once before taking the weapons into a small guardhouse. Anton did not hear the metal clang so he hoped they were being treated with care.

The two guards pulled the iron gate and allowed them to pass. Large ponds and fountains lay just beyond the wall, large flowering trees immaculately maintained by a single gardener.

“Does every ruler have a desire to make a beautiful garden?” Anton wondered aloud.

“It’s their way of showing off,” Cetina said. “At least I think it is. Having something like this is not cheap.”

“Or maybe they just like flowers and water?” Anton shrugged.

At the front, the Frindal woman waited patiently. She was considerably younger than the guards, not surprising given that she was some sort of servant of the Sultan, but the blue and purple shawl and matching long headscarf caught his eye. Her soft brown eyes studied him closely. She said nothing, opened the door, held a low bow and motioned for them to enter. Wilford went first, everyone else remained close to Anton.

After stepping a few meters they arrived in yet another garden. The Sultan’s residence was essentially a ring of small rooms surrounding the multi-tiered gardens. Plants cascaded from small awnings from the uppermost levels while trees grew up through the centre. It provided a large amount of shade for the many large tables and chairs nestled amongst the flowers. Books and scrolls covered the largest table, a Frindal woman with a light brown shawl and headscarf, slowly organised the books. She was older than the one from the front, perhaps middle-aged, but moved with incredible grace. Several Frindal Guards patrolled the upper and lower levels in groups of two, one with a shield and spear, the other with a small but powerful bow. They spared the guests a glance and continued on their patrols.

“And where is this Sultan Hazm el-Hamad?” Anton asked softly. “I can’t see anyone except the guards.”

“If it’s him then he’s probably still asleep.” Wilford smiled. “He’s a chubby boy, so he won’t be up until mid-day.”

The blue shawled woman closed the door and walked to just a few paces behind them. Her skin was a little darker than the other Frindal woman’s but Anton did not have much time to really look. A door at the top of the level opened. The Sultan emerged, led by another Frindal woman wearing a brown shawl and headscarf, and held his hand against his brow. He looked similar to the other Frindal’s; a tanned skin, thick black hair and brown eyes. Unlike the others, he wore white cloth and a very small red shawl over a portly belly. A tight turban, also made from a red cloth, covered all of his hair while a small golden emblem of the Frindal Emirate lay at the centre.

“Wilford?” The Sultan’s voice was somewhat husky. “Is that you?”

“It is.” Wilford smiled. “I’ve finally come back to Frindal and I thought I should visit you.”

“You’d damned well better have.” The Sultan picked up his the hem of a long shirt and raced to the stairs.

“Get ready,” Anton whispered to Cetina. He glanced back, the servant with the blue shawl had not moved in the slightest. He seriously wondered if she was trained in any sort of combat or if she was merely a servant.

“After all this time,” The Sultan’s shoes slapped loudly on the staircase under his weight. “You decide to show up now?”

“I’ve been stuck in Graterious.” Wilford gave no sign he was worried as the Sultan reached the bottom level. “A few issues with debtors-”

“Did you try and sleep with someone’s daughter again?” The Sultan’s faint smile did not match his words.

“She wasn’t your daughter.” Wilford frowned and folded his arms. “You barely even knew her name.”

“But I was unfortunate to see your wrinkled, hairy behind.” The Sultan spat on the ground and continued walking, the older woman’s eyes flicked to the spit and all Anton could see was utter revulsion. “That was more than enough to send you packing.”

The Sultan stopped just before them, less than half a meter remained between them. He was not a particularly tall man but he stood like he was important. Truth be told he was, it was just interesting that he didn’t act overly important.

Finally the Sultan’s face cracked into a great big smile. He opened his arms and brought Wilford into a hug, once heartily returned.

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” The Sultan rocked back and forth as he continued to hug Wilford. “I’ve missed hearing your stories and all of those rare things you could get me.”

The Sultan parted from Wilford. “My collections have grown old and stale without you to ply the seas.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Hazm.” Wilford smiled and patted his shoulder. “But I’ve given up on the smuggling trade. Too much risk, especially when things go awry.”

Hazm scoffed. “You should have just found your way here. After all you’ve bought for me I would have more than happily let you stay here until things calmed down. By the Sun, I could have given you a ship to get you started again.”

“Well, I’m thankful for your offer.” Wilford stepped to the side. “But these are the people that bailed me out. They were…” Wilford’s brows twitched. “More than kind enough to pay for everything. And provide me a ship.”

“A ship?” Hazm raised a bushy brow. “Not a little sloop, is it?”

“No. It’s pretty big.” Wilford smiled. “And it’s not rotting and falling apart too.”

“Well…” Hazm stepped further to one side. “Aren’t these people very generous then?”

Anton did not know if he was supposed to speak or not. He smiled faintly as Hazm’s gaze shifted to the women behind him.

“Very interesting.” Hazm nodded appreciatively as he looked at Calo and Sheso. “Very interesting. Now, please, all of you should have a seat. There’s no reason for all of us to stand.” Hazm looked to the sky. “Is it almost time for lunch?”

The woman with the brown shawl stepped forward. “It is, Sultan Hazm el-Hamad.”

“Excellent.” Hazm clapped his hands. “I always think better on a full stomach, and it always puts me in a better mood.”

No sign of any money being brought up. I suppose that’s a good thing.

Two additional Frindal female servants emerged from the lower levels and cleared the book covered table. The blue shawled woman helped, Anton saw Hazm glance at her with a strange look in his eyes, one that Anton did not understand.

“So…” Hazm took his seat, padded with comfortable cushions. “Tell me Wilford, who are these people that would be so willing to give you command of a ship?”

The Frindal servants prepared chairs for each of them, even the one with the blue shawl. Cetina politely declined hers and stood behind Anton. Mezot and Axia sat on one side, Calo and Sheso on the other. Mezot moved her chair very close to Anton and kept a wary eye on the numerous guards still patrolling the upper levels.

“My name is Anton.” Anton held his hand to his chest. “And this is Cetina, Mezot, Axia, Calo and Sheso. Think of us as researchers and academics. We have a particular interest in the Wild Beast-kin to the east of Frindal.”

“With the Ferals?” Hazm raised his brow. “What could those creatures possibly do to interest you?”

“A personal curiosity of mine, I guess you could say.” Anton smiled. “But I have never been to Frindal before and this land is completely foreign. I’ve been told there are oasis’s and small springs scattered throughout the land but I have no idea where they would be. At least in my homeland there is always a source of water.”

“I see…” Hazm’s eyes flicked to the blue shawled woman. “Still seems a long way to come to find Beast-kin.” He looked at Calo and Sheso. “Surely you still have them in Seocuria, no?”

“They…”

One of Anton’s hands was still under the table. He raised it to stop them from speaking.

Perhaps it’s best he doesn’t think they’re Dark Elves. We never did find out if the Green Moon were raiding Frindal shipping.

“That is true.” Anton continued. He received an odd look from the twins but they kept their mouths shut. “But I wish to see these Wild Beast-”

“Ferals,” Hazm interjected.

“Why do you call them that?”

Hazm rested the side of his head on his hand. “You’ve come all this way and don’t know that?”

“I know them as Wild Beast-kin. But there is obviously some reason that they’re called Ferals.”

Hazm looked for the other servants. He could only find the blue, to which he clicked his tongue.

“I suppose they’re getting something for us to eat.” Hazm shuffled in his seat. “They know what I like…The Beast-kin are called Ferals because they are exactly that. They do not respect any Frindal authority. Both the Emirate and the Nomads. Every attempt to conquer them has resulted in failure. A terrible failure.”

“Still doesn’t explain why they’re called Feral.”

“Because of the Lamias.” Hazm chuckled. “Snake people. I’ve only seen a few in the arena, and not for the past few winters, but I’ll never forget it. The way they fight…Utterly brutal and without remorse.” Hazm leant forward. “I’ve seen them crush six armoured soldiers, soldiers armoured like you northerners like a rotten grape. Truly terrifying.”

Again, still not worthy of the moniker. But I don’t think I should push further.

“I haven’t seen any Lamia.” Anton gently rubbed his beard. “They’ve all been killed in Seocuria for quite a long time.”

Hazm laughed. “If, if you wanted to see a woman that can shake and twirl her hips like a snake you should have just said so. I can direct you to a Pleasure House that can cater to those whims.”

Anton’s thoughts drifted back to the Pleasure Houses of Seocuria, the places where Marion, Kristof and Rasha were being trained for. He brushed them aside and focused on the present.

“I-”

“Though I find it odd that you’re surrounding yourself with so many women.” Hazm leant close to Wilford. “Is this normal for you northerners? It’s been a very long time since I’ve visited Graterious or Qaiviel.”

“They seem to be an outlier,” Wilford replied. “But I’ve never seen anything…untoward from them.”

“So…You want me to direct you to someone that can act as a guide through Frindal, through the Nomads, and somehow talk to the Feral Beast-kin so you can…” Hazm rolled his hand, signalling for Anton to finish his sentence.

“Study them. See what has changed between the two groups after being separate for so long.”

Hazm waited for Anton to continue. He leant forward and cocked his head. “This…This seems like a very expensive endeavour for you to undertake.”

“It is. But we are being funded by the Graterious Royal Academy.” Anton waved his open hand towards Mezot. “I have a Master of the Academy to accompany me and record everything that we discover.”

“Strange…” Hazm’s gaze fell on Mezot. Finally, a smile crept over his face. “But who am I, of all people, to judge?” He loudly slapped his thighs. “I think that can be arranged. Especially since you helped my good friend Wilford.”

“What about…” Axia shrunk as the Sultan’s gaze fell upon her. “Wilford mentioned something about the Sana Vākara…”

“Bunch of religious zealots.” Hazm scoffed. “But you are right to fear them, young lady. They are not people you wish to entangle yourself with.”

“But aren’t you the Sultan?” Axia had gained a measure of confidence. “Doesn’t that mean you’re in command of Frindal?”

“All of Frindal?” Hazm laughed. He laughed so hard that tears began to well in the corners of his eyes. “Oh…Oh, the people you’ve found are great. Absolutely great.”

“A Sultan is something similar to a Lord,” Wilford said while Hazm tried to calm himself. “Hazm owns Khoradeh and the surrounding towns and farms-”

“Owns is a polite way of putting it.” Hazm leant forward. “The structure of Frindal is different from what you northerners have. So long as you support the Padishah and his interests they really don’t care who is a Sultan. There are only sixteen of us…But I think that I might be the longest lasting one. So far at least.” Hazm stretched his arms over his head. “Just goes to show how great I am.”

“Can someone challenge you for your position?” Cetina asked.

Hazm’s eyes narrowed. “You…You would do very well in the arena. Many men are terrified of fighting a woman in armour. And you look like you’ve seen some battles. It’s a great way to earn some extra coin…”

“I will pass,” Cetina said calmly. “Protecting Anton is reward enough.”

Cetina gently patted his shoulder. Hazm raised a brow but shrugged.

“None of that matters to me. But anyone can challenge me for my position.” Hazm’s face turned more serious. “But there are some rules. And I can offer a champion in my stead. No one has tried in many winters.”

“Is it a Minotaur?” Anton asked. If Hazm’s champion was anything like Rasha there was no way any human could compete.

“No!” Hazm chuckled. “I’ve thought about it. No, he’s just a normal human. And no, he’s not my son or anything like that. He’s just extremely well paid to be my champion.”

“If you can buy him surely someone else could?”

“The only person that could have that much money is another Sultan, but a person can only have one…Sultan…I don’t know what the right word is.” Hazm shrugged. “Basically put there is always sixteen Sultans and sixteen people. I also give my champion access to as many women as he can get his hands on, not that he seems to care for them too much so long as he’s fighting. It’s when he’s not that there’s problems.”

A small door opened at the far side. Three Frindal women emerged carrying trays of fruits and breads. The selection looked very good and Anton was interested in tasting Frindal cuisine. He couldn’t see any of the brightly coloured spices but he reasoned they were to be used with main meals rather than a spattering on fruits.

“Ah.” Hazm rubbed his hands. “Excellent. Dried Dates and Figs! Perfect! I know you’ll love these.”

The three Frindal servants placed the succulent and delicious looking fruits onto the table. Anton was tempted to let the others eat first but there was every chance it was poisoned. As he motioned for the others to wait for him Hazm had already started eating alongside Wilford with wilful abandon. Anton still ensured that his magical poison protection was still working and took a bite. The dates were incredibly juicy and delicious but there was no sign of any poison. Anton gave them the go-ahead but also to be careful and not to eat too much.

“So…” Hazm wiped his lips with the back of his hand. A servant produced a thin piece of cloth for Hazm. “Ah, thank you. Now…What were we talking about before that little detour?”

“We were talking about a guide through Frindal through to the Feral Beast-kin.” Anton finished the date. “You’re right. This is very good.”

“It is.” Hazm quickly finished another mouthful of fruits. “Am I right in thinking you’re a mage?”

“We are. Mezot is a Master Ice and Water Principle Mage and Axia is a Novice Fire Principle Mage. And I have…certain other magics.”

“Certain other magics?” Hazm leant as far forward as possible. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that.”

“I can use Fire and Lightning Magic. And a type of Healing Magic.”

“A very powerful healing magic,” Axia said. Almost immediately she shied away, trying to become as tiny as possible after her outburst.

“Healing you say?… Well, I think I can help you.” Hazm smiled. “If you do two things for me. One. I want to have ice cold water and dates.”

Anton looked to Mezot.

“I can do that,” Mezot said softly. “If-If I have my Charm.”

“Of course.” Hazm dismissively waved his hand. “Not a problem. Not a problem at all. The second thing that I want, before I get you your guide, is that I want you to heal my Champion. He has an upcoming duel, not on my behalf, and I could lose a great deal of money if he can’t compete.”

“So that’s how you’re so rich?” Anton said smugly.

Hazm smiled and shrugged. “It’s not wrong to bet on your own man to win? But he has torn a muscle. Can you heal that?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. Even in Frindal…” Anton leant forward. “Why is magic so hard to use in Frindal?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Hazm continued to eat. “You’d have to ask the Padishah. I’m sure he would know something. All I know is that the further you travel west the worse it gets. Near the Akura Mountains, I’ve heard it’s almost impossible to use any kind of magic. Why? I don’t know.”

“Does it have anything to do with the United Empire?” Anton asked with a small fig in his mouth. He looked to Mezot. She was busy nibbling on a large fig like a rabbit, so was her daughter. The twins were devouring them as if they had only escaped from the Green Moon Fortress. “My expertise does not touch them, I thought someone here might know more.”

"Possibly," Hazm said. "But the workings of an ancient and long defeated empire has surprisingly little impact on what's happening today."

You'd be surprised just how much history affects the present. Or you do know that and just don't care.

"Another of my curiosities. Now, if my companion has her Charm returned to her I believe we can very quickly fulfil your first condition."

"Wonderful!" Hazm furiously rubbed his hands together. "It's been far too long since I've had ice-cold water."

---[]---

Mezot focused all of her attention on controlling the small shard of ice in the large container of milk. After Hazm had finished his cold water, swallowed it whole was a better descriptor, he asked for one last ice-cooled beverage. Mezot was more than happy to comply. If anything she was thoroughly enjoying the restrictions that Frindal placed on her. The three brown shawled servants brought out more food while the blue waited patiently near the door. Anton thought it very odd that a person would be reserved for opening and closing doors.

"Done." Mezot's voice echoed with triumph. "That is as cold as it can possibly be without freezing."

Anton could already see the shimmer on the surface as the water slipped between frozen and liquid.

Hazm rubbed his hands together once more and politely ordered one of the servants to pour the chilled milk. They obeyed without question and Hazm greedily downed each goblet as it was filled. Everyone merely watched in silence until it was all gone.

Hazm raised his hand after wiping his face clean. "That...That was incredible. Do you know how hard it is to keep something cold in Frindal? Damned near impossible, not without a very skilled Ice Mage."

Mezot's chest swelled with pride at the obvious flattery.

“If you ever think you are in need of money you should just sell this.” Hazm smiled like a child at the empty goblet. “People would come far and wide for this. Gold would flow into your pockets like rain…Not that I’ve seen much rain in my lifetime.”

Anton leant towards Mezot. “When we get back we’ll have a serious talk about this. I think you can really help me and Atros.”

Mezot smiled sweetly. “Of course I’ll help you.”

"But...Alright." He slapped his legs again. "You've done the first task I've asked of you. My champion's at the arena right now, so-"

"Forgive me for interrupting." Anton raised his hand. "But who would you recommend as a guide?"

"Who?" Hazm smiled. "Her."

He nodded to the Frindal woman with the blue and purple shawl.

"She...She is an interesting story. One I'll gladly tell you on the journey."

"Are we to walk?" Sheso asked.

"No! I would not be caught walking through the streets unless my life depended on it. And that hasn't happened since-"

"Since you lost that wager against that Nomad." Wilford cracked a smile. "We had to hide in that brothel. We were almost caught too."

Hazm smiled at the oldest of the brown shawled servants. "But she managed to escape that life. Right?"

"Only because he thought I was entertaining two squealing boys." The woman smiled. "He gave us a lecture that we should only take adults. But...Surely you didn't mind it?"

"That's one way to put it." Hazm winked at the woman. "But...Where was I? That's right. We'll take my sedan. The...How do I put this delicately?"

"No women can ever travel in a sedan," Wilford said softly. "They consider it a great insult."

"Not even for comfort?"

"Well, there have been a few times. Hard to enjoy yourself when there are twenty people just outside." Hazm leant back in his chair. "Or are you going to tell me these five women are your comfort?"

One is. But I've another three back home. And they are all very comfortable.

"No. But-"

"It's alright," Cetina said. "We'll follow right behind." She looked up at Hazm. "I presume you won't be moving very fast?"

"Walking speed. I could order the men to go faster but the chance of falls increases so much."

"Very well then."

Hazm turned to the brown shawled servant. "Is there a match on today at the arena?"

"There is." The woman lightly bowed her head. "I believe Fareed has grown tired of the Hamtaro and has sent them all to die in glorious combat?"

"All of them?" Hazm's eyes squinted at her as his head pulled back. "Even I find that a little cruel. It's not like they did anything particularly wrong."

"And what are Hamtaro?" Sheso asked. She lowered the date she was about to eat. "I've never heard of them before."

Hazm smiled. "If you're interested in the Ferals then I'm sure the Hamtaro will tickle your fancy." Hazm leant back, resting his chin on his propped up hand. "I'm almost certain."

Volume 05 - Chapter 49 - Freedom from the Arena

The Sedan chair was slightly more impressive than Anton first thought. It was more than just a small cabin suspended between two burly men. Instead, it was a cabin that could hold four people with room to spare. Sixteen men were required to properly lift and manoeuvre the Sultan’s Sedan chair, especially when three people were travelling inside.

“I’m surprised.” Anton reached forward and pulled the small wooden slat window back. “I thought it would be far, far more uncomfortable.”

“They’re going quite slow today.” Hazm rummaged through a small bowl of nuts. “Better that then them falling.”

“That sounds painful for everyone.” Anton mused.

“It is.” Hazm smiled at Wilford. “One time, you were already gallivanting around the world on your ship, one of my captains thought that he would try and impress me by travelling faster than anyone else had before. I think you can guess what happened. He didn’t last long.”

“The arena?”

Hazm scoffed. “No. He just runs the docks now. He’s actually rather good at his job. I think he just became a little too eager. We still talk…” Hazm smirked. “But he’s still very nervous around me.”

Anton looked backwards in the Sedan Chair. The interior was designed to allow those inside to see out but not the other way around. A ring of Frindal soldiers walked alongside the Sedan, protecting both them and Anton’s companions. They remained close to Cetina, who had been given back her sword, alongside Mezot and Axia’s staves and Charms. Anton would have preferred to stay with them and walk but Hazm did not allow any such thoughts. Wilford also quietly told him to go along with Hazm’s wishes as disagreeing with Frindal culture at every turn was not a good way to win the Sultan’s favour.

“Excellent selection as always.” Hazm cracked open a nut. “I must remember to thank her.”

“You were talking about our potential guide.” Anton leant back into the soft cushions. They took some weight off his back and more importantly his tail. The Charge had not increased or diminished, and he had yet to check if the mana dampening field held sway over it.

“Yes.” Hazm pointed to the woman in the blue shawl. She walked behind his companions without saying a word. Axia tried to engage her in conversation but she was not responding. “What an interesting story.”

“I believe we have time.”

“Alright then.” Hazm gathered himself another handful of nuts. “Zuhura. What a story. Where to begin?”

Hazm stared at the ceiling.

“Frindal is not as united as we would like to think. There are two different peoples that make up the Emirate. Those that live on the coast, like me, Frindal’s, and those that live in the deserts, the Nomads. Essentially we are two different people.”

Hazm nodded towards Zuhura, still walking calmly behind the Sedan Chair. “Their skin is darker and all their eyes are brown…” Hazm scratched his beard. “That’s about it, now that I think about it. Anyway, we don’t get along very well. Bad history, as I’m sure you can attest to.”

“Quite a bit, actually.”

“Yes. Well, Frindal and a Nomad Tribe called the Abharitka. There was a dispute over trade routes, access to the spice fields and how much water we can take from the springs and oases.”

“So basically everything,” Wilford said snidely.

Hazm glumly nodded. “Indeed. But things did not go well and a few people were killed in the ensuing arguments. Suffice to say we were about to go to war, something the Padishah would have found to be most disagreeable." Hazm mimicked his neck being slit by a blade. "So we came to a compromise. We would exchange our children as hostages. That way war would threaten our own blood and not the blood of others."

"Was it just your...Son?" Anton asked softly.

"No. Two of my sons." Hazm shrugged. "Well, they're not actually my sons. I don't even know their names."

"I'm sorry?"

Hazm smiled as he continued to eat his nuts. "Do you think that I would actually send my own flesh and blood to the Nomads to have who knows what happen to them? No. My children are safe in another city."

"I take it the Nomads don't know that," Anton said softly. "I think they would be more than insulted if they discovered that."

Hazm shrugged again. "They won't. Besides, I'm pretty sure they've worked it out. There was a short patch were they became really aggressive but they've calmed down. My sources say their elders realized that peace is far better than war, if for nothing else but the lives of their children."

"Sounds like a dangerous game of deception." Anton mused softly.

There's also the question of why he's telling me this in the first place.

"Is there a possibility that Zuhura is the same?"

"Of course not." Hazm scoffed at the notion. "I've had my servants check her and she matches her description."

A bit hard to say when really all you can see are her eyes. She didn't have any moles or obvious markings, perhaps on the rest of her body.

"Then...Then that brings me to the next question." Anton said. "Why would you be willing to let her be a guide, rather than keep her."

Hazm gently nodded. "I know what you are saying. But the Nomads and I have come to an arrangement that no longer requires blood relatives being held hostage. In fact, you'd probably be doing me a favour. Releasing Zuhura from my service would show that I trust the Nomads completely and that they would be the dishonorable ones by killing my sons."

We'll need to check with Zuhura, see if any of this is actually true.

"Not to mention the small fact that if I fuck her I'd have to leave here and travel with the Nomads as her husband." Hazm shook his head. "There have been many times when I have been tempted, truly tempted...But I don't like that much sand. Coarse shit gets everywhere."

"As a guest to your city and country." Anton smiled at Hazm. "I can assure you that I haven't seen a single grain of sand so far."

Hazm chuckled and continued to eat his nuts. "When you're done with whatever it is you want with the Ferals you are more than welcome to keep Zuhura. If she wants to stay with you." Hazm shifted his long loose pants, loose except for one specific area. "Probably for the best that I am not around such dangerous temptation."

Anton looked back again to Zuhura. Her shawl and long dress kept most of her curves hidden but it was all but impossible to hide mass. Zuhura wasn't fat but he briefly wondered if she would compare to Verona or even Rasha. Something at the back of his mind told him he would find out.

---[]---

The Sedan Chair finally stopped. Hazm had continued to regale Anton with tales of the Frindal Emirate and their leaders. While interesting they had little bearing on his current mission. Perhaps if Atros became involved with Frindal it would become useful. One thing Hazm had omitted was any talk of the Sana Vākara. The moment Anton brought up the subject Hazm forcefully switched to something else or loudly reminisced with Wilford about their past exploits. Anton stopped when it became clear he would not speak of the matter.

"Finally." Hazm picked up his long shirt, brushing the nutshells onto the floor to be cleaned by some unfortunate servant, and exited. Wilford waited for Anton to leave before exiting himself.

The carriers looked a little tired but nothing more than a decent run. There were sixteen, after all, so the weight wouldn't have been too bad. The soldiers less so but Anton could see thin lines of sweat running down their skin.

"Cetina?" Anton looked for Cetina's colors, a mixture of bright yellow, blue and red. "How are you handling the heat?"

Cetina put on a brave face but it was clear the heat was starting to get to her. The ends of her hair had clumped together from the sweat and so had her eyebrows. Her face was slightly flushed and her breathing harsher than normal.

Hazm stepped to the side of Anton. "Yeah. I thought that might happen. Any sort of magical enchantment you've got won't work so well in Frindal."

Anton refrained from explaining the eyepatch.

"But out there, in the desert?" Hazm shook his head. "You'll die. Cooked inside your own armour. But we have spares in the Arena, if you want."

"We'll definitely take a look."

If we do get any we should check them for magic. Magic is hard to use in Frindal but not impossible...

"Thanks." Cetina stepped closer, he could smell the sweat coming from her. "It doesn't get this hot back home."

"No it doesn't."

Anton quickly glanced at the others. Though Mezot and Axia were suffering slightly, they were both incredibly unfit, Calo and Sheso appeared completely unphased. He could only see a single tiny drop of sweat on their curious faces.

Must just be good with regulating heat. With those long ears, that's hardly surprising.

"You can unfasten some of those pieces for now." Anton looked at Hazm. "I suppose we're heading inside that now?"

Anton pointed to the circular Arena. It appeared to be ripped straight out of Ancient Rome in design, though with some Frindal flare thrown in. A small but steady stream of people entered and exited, all looked excited for one reason or another.

"Yes. But to the fighters quarters." Hazm waved them all forward. "That's where my champion will be."

Hazm's guards began to advance as one, telling Anton they were to follow, but his eyes fell on Zuhura. As before she walked just behind them. Anton tried his best to gauge her figure, a figure that had almost tempted the sultan into losing his position but could work out little. He also wondered what she wore underneath the outer layer. The blue cloth covering her arms and legs was not attached. An image of her in a skin-tight suit flashed through his mind.

"Is something the matter?" Zuhura asked. Her head had tilted ever so slightly, deep brown eyes looked at him with seemingly genuine concern.

"It's nothing, Zuhura." Anton saw the guards subtly try and push them all forward. "I...I was curious why you wear blue and everyone else in Hazm's service wears brown."

"I like this colour." Zuhura ran a slim finger along the edge of her headscarf. "That's really all there is to it." Her fingers stopped halfway up. "And Hazm lets me. I'm not entirely sure why."

Anton did not know if she was being coy or serious. He chose to pretend she was being serious.

"Can I ask you a few questions as we walk?"

"So long as Hazm allows it." Zuhura peered over his shoulder.

"Sure. Sure." Hazm dismissively waved his hand. "We'll be taking the short way around so there won't be much to look any."

Zuhura bounced her eyebrows up, behind the veil he saw her smile. She was far from obedient. Hazm and Wilford led them towards a door into the Arena that no one appeared to be entering. A line of Frindal guards blocked passage. When they saw Hazm approaching their backs straightened and their boots stomped on the ground. While Anton could not see Hazm’s face he guessed that he smiled and dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

“These are the Elite’s chambers,” Hazm shouted back. “After you help my Champion I’ll show you through here properly, show you the magnificent soldiers here.”

Hazm laughed and entered the entrance. He didn’t seem annoyed so Anton followed. Cetina walked by his right, Zuhura by his right as she occasionally glanced at him from beneath her headscarf. Calo and Sheso walked behind and either side of Mezot and Axia.

“Are you forced to wear that?” Anton asked Zuhura as they walked into the arena.

“What do you mean?” Zuhura raised her hand. “Are you concerned that I am hot in these? I hear that the lands of the north are considerably cooler than Frindal.”

“They are and it’s somewhat of a concern of mine.” Anton nodded to Cetina. “You’re wearing far more than Cetina and yet you’re not sweating.”

“I am used to the heat and sun.” Zuhura smiled. “Every day of my life I have lived in the Frindal sun. I barely feel it.”

“Lucky you.” Cetina wiped away another bead of sweat running down her face.

“I am wearing more than either of you.” Zuhura slowed slightly and allowed them to enter first. Anton felt quite relieved once the beaming sun was off their faces. “But I am not hot.”

“Air must be able to flow around…But is it forced upon you?”

Zuhura did not answer for a few seconds. Understanding flashed over her face. “Oh. Like the Sana Vākara. No…No more than you are not permitted to walk naked through the city streets.”

“But in your home you can.” Cetina frowned softly. “Right?”

“I do not wear all of this when I sleep.” Zuhura raised her arm, letting the loose cloth fall away. The tight blue sleeve travelled at least to her elbow. “Though it is comfortable. I believe it is the same as why women wear dresses and men do not. I am as forced as you.”

Well, some men choose to wear dresses…

“I see…That’s good then”

Anton looked forward. Hazm and Wilford walked several paces ahead, the loud boots of the guards blocked out most noise as they passed open rooms. Anton peered inside and found many well-armed and trained Frindal men preparing and maintaining their weapons and armour.

“These are the rooms of the Fighters of the Arena.” Zuhura began to speak like she was a tourist guide. “Specifically those of the First Iron level.”

“Recruits?” Anton offered. “A few successful battles under their belt?”

“Under their belt…?” Zuhura blinked once. “Everyone here has fought in at least ten battles, regardless of how many they’ve won.”

“It does look a little cramped.” Cetina murmured.

“If they continue to win they are afforded better accommodation,” Zuhura said, motioning along the corridor. “People come from all over the world to fight in the Arenas. Not just from the north, but from Xiam and the Kingsland.”

“All to here?” Cetina asked. A cheer echoed through the stone hallway. “This isn’t even the capital of the Frindal Emirate.”

“No.” Zuhura smiled. “But it is much safer to start here.”

“Must make a lot of money,” Axia muttered. “To risk your life to fight.”

“As a Principle Mage surely you must be prepared to risk your life to fight. Correct?”

“Yes…” Axia pondered her words. “I suppose you’re right. But mother and I will fight for something we believe in. Not just gold and silver.”

Zuhura’s shoulders dropped slightly. “At least it is something.”

Anton did not like the silence that followed, nor the worried looks Calo and Sheso shared. Though he could all but guess what she meant he decided to ask the one thing that Hazm had refused to answer.

“The Sana Vākara.” Zuhura’s body twitched at their mention. “See? Everyone gets so agitated just at their very mention…What can you tell me about them?”

Zuhura took a deep breath, though her headscarf was long Anton peered forward as saw the thin veil drawn up against her mouth. She brushed it lightly with her hand to remove it and resumed her normal posture.

Zuhura slowed, to create distance between herself and Hazm. "They, the Sana Vākara, are a fanatic religious group that controls a significant portion of Frindal's industry and commerce. They...They have killed Hazm's daughter and first wife for sinful behavior."

"And that would be?" Anton asked softly.

"Two women holding hands in public."

"But they're mother and daughter." Anton stopped as he had almost raised his voice. "It's not like they were in a public incestuous relationship."

Calo and Sheso stumbled at such a mention. When Anton turned his attention back to Zuhura her face had turned a bright shade of red, even underneath her deeply tanned skin.

"Please..." Zuhura flattened the cloth covering her stomach. Though the clothes she wore were lose her hand travelled far before reaching a flat stomach.

Her top didn't move far at all, did it? Still a cute reaction.

"All of those relationships are considered sinful." Zuhura's voice had switched from tour guide to a slightly annoyed lecturer. "Merely discussing it is enough to draw unwanted attention from their acolytes. So please, for your own safety and the safety of your companions, do not speak too loudly about it, Anton."

Zuhura made a tiny squeak as she stopped, Axia and Sheso almost ran into her, and bowed deeply and refused to raise her head.

"Forgive me. I do not mean to be presumptuous but I do not know if you have any titles. Please forgive me for speaking to you in such a disrespectful manner."

"You have an impressive vocabulary." Anton smiled, not that she could see. "But please just call me Anton. Though I may have some official titles I really don't like being called by them. Makes my back feel all funny."

"As you say, Anton." Zuhura rose back up and smiled.

Cetina jabbed her side and rolled her eye.

"What?"

Cetina leant close. "You go soft whenever a pretty girl flutters her eyes at you."

"Don't tell me you're jealous." Anton kissed her ear. Cetina jumped back in surprise, she quickly calmed herself but Anton felt a pair of angry eyes drilling into the back of his skull.

Does Mezot know I'm sleeping with Rasha yet? Probably not, but then again she just might...

"I didn't think you were into that." Axia sniggered as she stood by her mother. She disapprovingly shook her head. "After all you have..."

Anton followed her line of sight. Begin Cetina was another Fighters quarters. Inside sat four very burly men, all from Bebbezzar and topless, proudly showing off their impressive muscles.

"So why are you looking then?" Anton teasingly asked. "You aren't that old and already you're using me as an excuse to look at some very well-muscled men-"

Mezot grabbed Axia's arm and pulled her forward. "She's still too young for that."

Axia said nothing but Anton saw her ears turning a scarlet red he didn't think the devilish girl could be capable of.

"See?" Cetina smiled, patted his back and pushed him forward.

The twins spared a look into the room, nodded appreciatively and quickly rejoined them.

"Sorry, Zuhura. But when you're around us you'll quickly learn that we can sometimes find it difficult to stay on one topic."

"I understand. Do you wish to know more about the Sana Vākara?"

"The Nomad Tribes. Do they follow this religion?"

"No." Zuhura hesitated. "I'm sure some do. But very few would. The Nomad Tribes do not like what they have done to try and convert our people to their faith. I am in Hazm's service because of their actions."

"Not because of a relative exchange?"

Zuhura's brown eyes studied his for a moment. "Yes. My father was wounded by Sana Vākara fanatics, which Hazm protected." Zuhura ground her teeth. "For some reason..."

So Hazm didn't lie, exactly, but he didn't tell the full truth either. I wonder what he would have said if I used a truth prayer on him.

"Fanatics are disgusting." Cetina shuddered. "Anton and I have seen what that's like. In Qaiviel."

"What happened there?" Zuhura leant forward. "I have heard only rumours of rumours from drunk sailors. Were you there?"

"We were." Anton nodded glumly. "But that...That is a story for another time. It brings back some rather...Interesting memories."

"Forgive me." Zuhura bowed her head once more. "I do not mean to pry."

Anton smiled and tried to wave down her concern. He pointed to the next set of rooms. While the doors were smaller names had etched into small clay cards which were slotted into a series of metal hooks.

"For those of a much higher rank, they are afforded personal rooms..." Zuhura bit her lip. "And other services."

"Are all the Fighters men?" Cetina asked.

"They are all male." Zuhura softly replied.

"What-"

"Here we are." Hazm loudly announced. "My champion!"

Hazm pointed to a door several meters away. Two Frindal's stood guard, lighter equipment than those outside but still very good. However, Aston's eyes were drawn to the three women resting on the far side of the alleyway. All three were from Frindal, their skin and hair colour matched Hazm's other servants but their clothes were anything but. If anything they looked like they belonged in a high-class brothel. Each wore a thin white shirt that barely covered their modest chests and a very short white skirt that barely covered anything. So little in fact that Anton could make out handprints on their exposed rears, from where they were slapped hard from behind. Their long black hair lay matted against their skin, Anton could see more than just sweat, and their eyes were vacant and unfocused as their chests heaved with every breath.

"Are they..." Calo looked at Anton. She and her sister already knew but just needed to confirm.

"Comfort women?" Anton asked. "They certainly look like they've earned their money."

Mezot covered her daughters' eyes while Zuhura's face slowly grew red once more. Cetina smirked at her obvious discomfort.

"No." Hazm smiled. "Just whores."

He stopped before the woman in the centre. She blinked her eyes and came out of her daze.

"Is he hurting you?" Hazm asked. "No fists or drugs?"

"Nothing-" The woman coughed, ran a hand through her hair and tried to make herself look a little more presentable. "Nothing like that. Nothing but a little play."

"I don't want it to get anything more than that." Hazm sounded far more stern than anything Anton had heard so far. "Understood?"

"Yes, father. I understand."

Cetina desperately suppressed a word while everyone else was stunned into silence. Anton caught Wilford's eye who merely shrugged it off.

What...What an interesting day this has been.

“It’s just…” The woman coughed again. She covered her mouth with her enclosed fist and was annoyed by what she found. “With his arm hurt, he can’t fight. So he’s taking-”

“His frustration out on you?” Hazm raised a brow.

The woman smiled as the other two began to take notice of their surroundings. “He has a lot of energy.”

“Hopefully we’re about to fix that.” Hazm nodded to Wilford and Anton. “One of my old friends has returned and has brought a very interesting man with him.”

The three women looked at Anton. Anton could only muster up a gentle wave, he simply didn’t know what else to do or what he could possibly say.

“Open the door,” Hazm said to the guards.

“He said not to be disturbed for anything...” One guard looked to the other. “But I’m sure this is an exception.”

Hazm nodded. The guards shrugged and pulled the door open. The moment the door opened screams flowed out, screams of ecstasy and uncontrollable pleasure. Mezot pulled her daughter back as even Anton could hear the slapping of flesh.

“Mahdi!” Hazm yelled into the room. “Either hurry up or knock that crap off. I need to talk to you about your injury.”

“Fuck’s sake!” A short squeal followed, then the sound of something heavy being thrown onto a bed. “Didn’t the guards tell you that I was busy? You...How could you have not known?”

“I don’t care.” Hazm stood back. “Send her out and get yourself presentable. We have a solution for your torn muscles.”

“Fine...” Mahdi grunted. “Fine. Go on.” A hand slapped a rear very hard. “You heard the Sultan.”

Another Frindal woman sprawled her way out of the room, completely naked and just as dazed as the others wore. Two pieces of cloth followed her, smacking her on the head followed by a muffled insult from Mahdi. The other three whores rose to their feet and helped the fourth to walk properly.

Cetina bumped his side. “Either he’s really good or there are some drugs involved.”

“You’ve been like that on more than one night.” Anton teased back, though he wasn’t exaggerating. Cetina stood perfectly still as she bit her lip and her ears turned red. Thankfully he was the only one to notice.

“Let me just get dressed,” Mahdi said. “So who is this person you’ve got?”

“A man from Graterious.” Hazm glanced at Axia. “And definitely put a shirt and pants on. Done up this time. We have a young one with us.”

“And you let them see those four?” Mahdi laughed. “Oh, I wonder what their mother would say.”

Mezot’s eyes narrowed at Anton.

“If I’d known you both would have waited outside,” Anton whispered to Mezot. He words calmed her, but only somewhat. She would need something more to truly forgive him.

“What is the injury?” Anton asked. “Exactly.”

"My right arm," Mahdi grumbled. "A few days ago I decided, like an idiot, to block this huge man's axe with my scimitar. Obviously, I should have tried to parry it into the ground but I was just being stupid that day." Mahdi scoffed. "First match in a long time that I've had to forfeit."

"I bet." Hazm chuckled softly.

"Do you think it's wise to engage in such strenuous activity when you're badly injured?" Anton asked. Cetina, his trainer, nodded seriously.

"Did you just get another surgeon?" Mahdi grumbled. "Sounds like the one from yesterday."

"I am not a doctor."

"Hazm." Mahdi began to walk barefoot towards the door. "Don't tell me you brought one of those faith healers? That I'll be cured if I convert and wash away my sins in the desert and the sun?"

"No...But it will be interesting all the same."

Mahdi finally stood into the light and was almost exactly like what Anton expected. Mahdi stood quite tall, just shorter than Cetina, had a handsome and well-groomed face along with a surprisingly lean physique. He wasn't overly muscular like most of the fighters they had passed. Skill and speed were clearly Mahdi's strong points. As for clothes he wore a light set of linen shirt and pants, ideal for the hot weather, whether it be outside or inside a bedroom.

Mahdi frowned and quickly checked over everyone in turn. His lips curled up into a smile.

"What an interesting group you bring before me." Mahdi chuckled softly. "So which is this healer? The pretty blonde over there?"

Mezot gripped her staff tight and stepped towards Anton.

"I am the person Hazm was speaking of," Anton said. "I can heal your wounds and restore you to perfect health."

"Really? I find that hard to believe."

"I've seen it before," Wilford said. "Trust me, they know what they are doing."

Mahdi smiled. "Alright then. It's my right arm, you see?" Mahdi turned to show his arm. "It hurts like a bit...Really bad. I can barely move it."

"I think I can fix that." Anton walked to Mahdi. "If you could just raise your arm for me."

"It's not a good idea to do anything strenuous when you're injured," Cetina said. "You could hurt yourself so bad that you can't use that limb again."

"Oh, but it gets a lot of work now." Mahdi winked at Cetina. "You look like you're pretty experienced. Maybe you can help still get me some exercise-"

Mahdi shrieked and recoiled from Anton. His entire upper arm blistered and burned in the shape of a hand. Mahdi gripped the burn tight and looked at Anton, unsure of what happened. White-hot flame wrapped itself around Aston's hand.

"What the fuck?!" Mahdi shouted through gritted teeth. "What was that?"

"Don't ever think my companions, my friends, are people that you can just leer at or say something stupid like that. Cetina is not some..." Anton took a deep breath. "If you apologies to her I'll heal you, both your burn and your injured arm."

"Why is a mage in Frindal?" Mahdi looked to Hazm for answers.

"I told you to behave." Hazm turned to Anton. "But you can actually heal him. Right?"

"So long as he apologizes."

Mahdi exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Anton looked at Cetina. She appeared happy with his apology. Anton beckoned Mahdi closer. Mahdi was far warier now, especially now the pain of the fresh burn was sinking in. Anton held his hand on Mahdi's shoulder, the man clearly wanted to say something but was fearful of more magic, and healed him. It took considerable mana but not when Frindal's mana dampening field was taken into account. Mahdi stepped back and looked surprised that everything had returned to normal.

"I..." Mahdi lifted his shirt. "I had some great scars on my chest. Always a great source of conversation over drinks after a tough battle."

Well, you have confidence in yourself at least.

"But now you will be able to collect new ones." Anton smiled as he returned to Cetina's side. "If you are Hazm's champion then I'm sure that it may take a while."

Mahdi mulled over his words. "Hazm. Who are these people, really?"

Hazm quickly introduced them, as best he could, before leaving Wilford to pick up the slack.

"They're researchers and academics, travelling all over the world to study...To study. Right now they wish to see the Wild...Feral Beastkin up close."

"The Ferals?" Mahdi smiled. "You really are crazy. And you're going to take five beautiful women to your grave...They don't look like they're being paid." Mahdi smirked. "Not bad."

Now is when Verona would say something clever about my harem.

Mahdi coughed and tapped his barefoot on the stone floor. "How much do I owe you?"

"You? Nothing. Just...Just keep your thoughts to yourself when you're around me."

Mahdi leant close to Hazm. "I kind of like them already."

Hazm smiled and slowly nodded. "You've held up your end of the bargain..."

Hazm waited until Mahdi began to flex his muscles. When Mahdi gave him a nod of approval he continued.

"I shall as well. Zuhura?"

"Yes? Sultan Hazm?"

"I am releasing you into Anton's service."

Zuhura glanced at Anton, he could not discern what was happening behind those brown eyes.

"He requires guidance through the deserts and someone who knows how to deal with the Nomad Tribes without starting another war. When Anton is done with his mission he may free you of your service completely."

"As you wish, Sultan Hazm."

Hazm smirked. "And if nothing else I'm sure you'd love to get away from me."

Zuhura bowed but did not confirm nor deny his words. Hazm and Mahdi laughed.

"She'll guide you well," Hazm said. “She’s very smart, especially for a Nomad. Far smarter than most of the trained women-”

A mighty cheer echoed through the hallway. They had been turning slowly but they were surely underneath the centre of the arena.

“I’ll be honest.” Mahdi scratched the back of his head. “When you first interrupted me I thought that you were about to bring me to the arena to watch the Hamtaro get slaughtered. Well, their champion at least.”

“Are they seriously down to one?” Hazm shook his head. “I honestly thought they were doing better.”

Mahdi glumly nodded. “Kind of hard to survive when you’re pitted against enemies five or six times your size every day.”

“True…True.”

“What are these Hamtaro?” Anton asked.

“I…” Hazm smiled. “I think it would be best if you see them for yourself.”

Hazm began walking, Mahdi stood to one side in order to let Anton go first.

“You first,” Anton said softly.

Mahdi laughed. “Are you that nervous?”

“Nervous? No. But I don’t want you to be behind me.” Anton forced an exaggerated smile. “I don’t know why…”

Mahdi laughed and followed Hazm. Cetina smiled and gave a simple nod. Calo and Sheso, who had remained very quiet to avoid attention, turned to Anton and stuck out their tongues as they nodded at Mahdi. Mezot and Axia remained close to Anton, Mezot especially was not having a good time.

“It’ll be fine.” Anton lightly bumped Mezot’s arm and ushered them forward. “You saw his face when he realised I was a mage. So don’t be afraid to use your magic if you feel threatened.”

Mezot nodded seriously as they followed Hazm towards the shouting crowd.

---[]---

Anton squinted as the bright Frindal sunlight streamed from above. They emerged from the underground and near the base of the arena, only a small raised wall separated them from the fighting below. Five people, four from Frindal and one from Seocuria, fought in a brutal battle below. None wielded swords or spears, only bludgeoning weapons and shields. They were not fighting to the death but for a spectacle to the roaring crowds above. Thousands of Frindal’s sat in the arena, all cheering as the Seocurian gladiator fell. He was not dead, far from it as he slowly crawled and shimmied away from the fighting, but clearly out of the battle and was completely ignored.

“How many people are there?” Sheso asked. The shouts grew even louder as a Frindal man fell, his arm had been broken and twisted backwards. The twins covered their sensitive ears and winced in pain.

“Thousands!” Anton laughed. “This is incredible.”

They were still surrounded by Frindal guards who pointed them up the arena. Hazm and Mahdi walked towards a large box, a type of stadium suite, adorned with large bright red curtains and surrounded by another ring of guards. The attendees surrounding the box looked to be wealthier, at the least they were better behaved than the rabble that surrounded them.

Anton shrugged lightly and followed. While watching gladiators fight in, albeit controlled conditions, was exciting it wasn’t what Anton wanted. He wanted to find the Wild Beast-kin and see if they could help Atros, to see if they held any love for their long lost cousins. Anton resigned himself to enjoy the brief moment of respite.

Hazm and Mahdi had already entered the suite and were speaking with several people lazily sitting on the far side. These men, and a few women, were dressed even better than those outside the suite; the women wore considerable amounts of gold, silver and bright gems on their headscarves and shawls, the men wore cloth of purple and a deep brilliant blue, colours which Anton had never seen before.

“He’s up already?” An elderly Frindal man poked Mahdi with a bony finger. “How did you manage that? What did you give him?”

“A bit of magic.” Hazm smiled. “But I’m more interested in-”

“Is that them?” The man pushed himself up and pointed at Mezot and Axia. “By the gods, where did you manage to find Mages in Frindal?”

“Guests.” Hazm smiled. “But, as I was trying to say.” Hazm playfully jabbed the man, who only smiled back. “What am I hearing about sending all of the Hamtaro to their deaths?”

“Only if Midas keep winning.” A younger Frindal man, perhaps a few years older than Anton. “But I think this is going to be it for the Hamtaro. Such a shame.”

“I still don’t know what these things are,” Anton said.

No one was still willing to answer him so he looked to Zuhura. She smiled behind her veil.

“They are...Like Beast-kin.” Zuhura winced. “But, unlike the Ferals and the Beast-kin of Seocuria, they are...new.”

“What do you mean, new?”

A mighty cheer rang throughout the arena. Calo and Sheso were already watching from the edge of the suite and waved frantically to catch his attention. Anton hurried to their side, Cetina stayed with Mezot and Axia, Zuhura stood in between and slowly moved to the wall. The older people gained some life and moved to the edge of the wall, even if they had to be assisted by some servants.

A Frindal man stood triumphant in the centre of the arena, thrusting his arms up in time with the cheers from the crowd. The other four lay broken and bloodied but alive. Several young Frindal men rushed into the arena with stretchers. They tried their best to load the wounded men and scurry them away to be treated.

As the cheers began to dim a Frindal man moved to the centre, followed by three men, two carrying a large metal disk and another with a large stick with a large bundle of cloth tied to the end. The man stopped in the centre and waited for the crowds to quieten. He took a deep breath and leant his head back.

“With our new Champion of the Bronze Band-”

“Low-level champions,” Zuhura said softly. “But still very skilled compared to most militia forces.”

Zuhura would be an excellent source of information regarding Frindal military tactics and forces. Just a shame that we don’t have the chance right now.

“We now come to the highlight of today’s bouts.”

The crowd began to cheer. Only when they stopped did the man continue. “An intelligent creature now comes before you, fighting for the survival of his entire species. A valiant, courageous being that has fought ceaselessly for many seasons-”

Anton glanced at Mahdi. He wasn’t joking about the treatment of this creature, Midas.

“But, perhaps, today is the day he finds salvation. One way, or another.”

Those in the crowd laughed and jeered.

“Without wasting any more of your time, may I have the honour of presenting the scourge of ankles and cheese! The Rat Warrior of Frindal! Midas!”

Despite the labels thrown at this Midas, the crowds were in an uproar. Nearly everyone was cheering, even the elderly Frindal’s in the private suite. Anton caught Zuhura’s eye. She did not look happy.

The men in the centre of the arena quickly vacated. Anton shuffled to the side as the Frindal’s pushed their way to the front to get a better view. Anton made sure that no one was left alone or had their backs exposed, Cetina stood side on with a hand on one of her many daggers.

At the far side, a large door groaned open, kicking up the fine dust of the arena in a mighty gust. Anton had no idea if magic was involved, or merely a large gust of wind but it was certainly impressive. Six Frindal guards exited and pointed their spears towards the ground. Out of the dust Anton saw something move, something barely two feet tall.

Are they sending in children? No, not unless they’ve got powerful Glyph magic. And there’s no way that Midas, whoever he is, would let all of his people die, even if he is a Beast-kin. Especially if he’s a Beast-kin.

The dust cleared and the crowds roared once more.

“What am I seeing?” Anton asked Calo and Sheso, both of whom had better eyesight than everyone present, barring Cetina’s eyepatch when it wasn’t affected by the mana dampening field.

“It’s…” Sheso looked at her sister. “A rat?”

“Yeah.” Calo shook her head. “It’s a giant rat.”

The twins spoke the truth, in a sense. Midas’s face was not that of a rat but a mouse. He stood upright, like a small Rock Rat, wearing a mixture of light and medium armour. A specially formed helmet encased his head, small holes for his large circular ears which were armoured and full protected. A small nose twitched at the air as whiskers flicked back and forth. In his small armoured hand he wielded a small metal shield and a long spear, long for a two-foot tall mouse. He raised his spear high and the crowd cheered.

“I wonder what they’re going to pit him against today?” The younger Frindal man asked.

“Are you honestly suggesting that child is to fight?” Anton asked.

“He’s so small…” Mezot said softly.

The Frindal man laughed, Hazm approached the wall along with Mahdi. “He’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. I’m betting fifty gold plates on him to win. I don’t want him to die today.”

“You said that he was the last of his race,” Calo said softly.

“The last warrior.” Mahdi smiled. “When he dies so does the rest of the Hamtaro.” He rested his arms on the wall. “Meaning he’s the best of the best.”

“Not for long.” The elderly Frindal man smirked. “Not for long…”

The Frindal guards inside the arena grounds slowly retreated through their door, leaving Midas standing alone. The announcer appeared on a raised platform that jutted out over the arena grounds.

“Midas! Hero of the Arena, today you fight your greatest challenge.”

Midas looked to the announcer. Though his face was obscured by his helmet Anton could feel the anger within.

“Today you fight two of the most vicious and vile creatures in all of Frindal. Not men, though they can be particularly dangerous, but two creatures from the wildlands beyond our borders, lands held by the Feral Beast-kin.”

The crowd cheered as another gate began to open. Midas readied his spear and advanced to the centre of the arena.

“Behold! The terror of the deserts and the mountains! The Ogre Lords, Grok and Lok.”

The iron gates flew open, ripping their hinges free and smashing against the stone wall. The crowd cheered, though some of it was from a mixture of terror and excitement. Two large creatures emerged, like tall, fat Orcs but with light brown skin. Their large underbite jaws ground at several large rotten teeth sticking out of large, fat lips. The Ogres looked at one another and pulled up their large clubs, almost as long as they were and tipped with a boulder crudely fastened to the clubs with metal straps. Though crude Anton had no doubt how effective those weapons would be.

“Are you serious?” Axia looked in utter shock at the Frindal’s. “There’s no way he can win.”

“He will.” The younger Frindal man winked at Axia. “He’s been through worse. Honestly, he’ll be fine.”

“Zuhura?” Anton said. “A word if you could?”

“Yes, Anton.” Zuhura quickly walked to Anton’s side. “What is it that you wish to know?”

“Everything you can tell me about these Hamtaro.” Anton clicked his tongue as the two Ogres began to bicker amongst themselves. Their words were little more than guttural utterances but they could still understand each other. “How did these Hamtaro get created…”

I don’t really want to mention that I know of The Burning Light and everything that happened there. They might not know and it could cause too much confusion.

“I do not know how they were created.” Zuhura bowed. “But Fareed would know more.”

Zuhura motioned towards the young Frindal man. He was already listening intently and smiled at the mention of his name.

“I don’t know how the Ferals were created, or where they came from-”

Another loud cheer interrupted him. The Ogres were still chatting with one another but had finally been convinced to advance of Midas, only through repeated jabs from extremely long pikes into the fat backs. Unfortunately for Midas, the spear tips did indeed pierce their skin but not enough to even draw blood despite sinking several inches.

“Finally.” The elderly Frindal man smiled.

Midas did not move nor speak as the two Ogres advanced on him. Just as they were about to reach Midas he began to back away. He pointed his spear at the Ogre standing on the right.

“I will only fight the strongest of you two.” Despite being a two-foot tall mouse Midas’s voice carried far, soft and light as it was. “I will not waste my time with a weakling.”

“Me Grok!” The Ogre slammed his crude mace onto the ground. Midas jumped almost a foot into the air, the crowd cheered even louder. “Me strongest ogre!”

Lok punched Grok in the head. A large, flat tooth flew out along with a spurt of blood.

“No! You weaker than me!” Lok turned to Grok and pushed him. Both of their bodies rippled and shook, the rolls of fat shuddered as they stood against one another. “You always need my help. You too stupid and got caught-”

Grok shouted and charged at Lok. They dropped their clubs and began to fight each other in a furious rage, completely ignoring Midas who slowly backed away.

“See?” Fareed smirked at the elderly Frindal man. “He’s more than capable of beating them.”

“It’s not the same thing!” The elderly man shakily rose to his feet and leant against the wall. “Fight him! Not each other!”

The Ogres had no intention of listening to him and continued their fight. Despite their blows they weren’t actually hurting each other too badly. The layers of fat absorbed all off the blows, the only signs of injury was when they struck each other in the head, dislodging more large stubby teeth and blood. Midas continued to back away, content to let the two fools weaken each other before striking himself.

“The Hamtaro.” Fareed continued. “Were created about sixty winters ago, I believe. In the westernmost point of Frindal.”

“Someone here created a new type of Beast-kin?”

And it didn’t involve a massive, collapsing portal?

“How?” Anton asked. Mezot began to take interest and moved behind Anton. She frowned at Zuhura, who was roughly the same height and could not see around her. Zuhura noticed almost immediately and stepped to one side.

“Honestly? I’m not sure-”

“It was one of those idiotic children.” The elderly man grumbled. “He was experimenting with Star Metal, binding it with chemicals and minerals for experiments…”

Star Metal? Sounds like meteorites to me. But that’s not related to the portals that created the Beast-kin. Unless one of those two portals brought through something else. But a metal alone shouldn’t be enough to do this.

Fareed laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t just kill them all right away.”

The elderly man sneered at Midas but said nothing more, even at Fareed's prodding.

“Oh well. That’s all we’ll get out of him. But there are about six or seven hundred of them left, I think.” Fareed shrugged. “No one can just enter their area unless they’re under heavy guard...Just in case someone tries to do something to them.”

“If the guards were to let a killer in they would be dead,” Hazm said loudly. “And so would their family and their friends. Makes them very loyal.”

“I see.” Anton turned to the arena. “I’m wondering...Can they be bought?”

“Do you mean like the Seocurian slaves?” Fareed raised a brow. “I guess so...If you have enough money.”

“And who would I have to speak to about buying them?”

“They are not owned by anyone,” Fareed said. “They-”

“Bullshit.” Anton snapped back. Fareed’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Then who’s stopping them from leaving?”

“I…” Hazm frowned. “I suppose that it would be me then? I am the Sultan after all. And this is my Arena, even if Fareed manages most of the day to day operations…”

“Then I would be interested in purchasing them.” Anton nodded to Mezot. “We can study them in further detail when we’re back in Graterious. Better that than having them all slaughtered in their cells like they’re just some sort of...Mouse.”

“And you expect eight hundred small Beast-kin to follow you without objection?” Hazm asked. He frowned at Mahdi. “That would be difficult even for a few, let alone several hundred.”

“And they’re very crafty little creatures.” Mahdi smiled. “The locks have to be pretty strong otherwise they’ll just sneak out. I can’t imagine your little group keeping an eye on them in the desert. How are you going to stop them from just running off?”

“I have my ways,” Anton said. Zuhura frowned and leant forwards slightly. Anton knew there would definitely be some of Hamtaro’s that were sick or wounded. A bit of healing magic would be enough to placate them. If it worked for the Seocurian Beast-kin then it would work here. “Surely a Tanzanite stone would be sufficient to cover the loss of one of your main attractions Something to cover your short term losses?”

Hazm raised a brow. “Now that is very interesting. I presume that came from your Seocurian friends?” Hazm chuckled. “I wonder if your Seocurian followers know that you’re knocking off the Isora family? I heard that she’s a voluminous woman, at best. We’ve all tumbled with some larger women but that is a little bit much.”

“Once we return from our study of the Feral Beast-kin we could offer our help further,” Anton said, completely ignoring Hazm’s words, perhaps an attempt to determine if Anton was lying about his origins. “Healing, Ice and w-”

“You know Ice magic?” Fareed asked. “Ice magic?”

Anton nodded to Mezot. She didn’t know how to react in the situation and shuffled slightly behind Anton.

“Please don’t stare too hard. She’s not used to people staring at her like that.”

“But she can use Ice magic?” Fareed smiled, many of the others appeared interested as well. “Perhaps...Perhaps there is something that can be done.”

“I-”

The crowd cheered again. One of the Ogres finally fell down, completely dead. His head rolled on the ground, separated from his still twitching body. The other Ogre struggled to stand, his hands were bloodied and his own face was only in slightly better condition than the other.

“Gork strongest!” The Ogre beat its chest, eliciting another cheer from the crowd. “Gork strongest Ogre in all world!”

“Then why are you in chains?” Midas banged his shield. “If you are the strongest then why are you the prisoner of the Frindal’s?”

“Stupid Mouse talks too…” Gork shook his head, blood droplets flew out from his wounds and mouth. “Stupid Mouse talks too much. Humans give me meat if I kill you!”

Gork took his stone club back up and charged at Midas. The Mouse readied a defensive stance and waited for the Ogre to reach him. Though it was only a few meters the charge tired Gork considerably, he was not a fast creature and the wounds were taking their toll. Midas dropped his spear and threw the shield at Gork’s head. The metal rim smashed into his mouth, breaking the few teeth he had left and sent the Ogre stumbling backwards. Midas picked up his spear and ran at the stumbling Ogre. He stopped to throw the spear but started to run again, the spear was too heavy for him to throw properly so he resorted to charging again. He rammed it hard into the Ogres crotch, eliciting many winces from the crowd and everyone in the suite, and ran up his back. Gork staggered back and forth to rid himself of the spear and Midas but lacked the strength. Midas drew a small sword and rammed it into the back of Gork’s neck. The Ogre let out a terrible gurgle and fell forward. The spear drove its way through Gork’s crotch and carried something with it, Mezot covered Axia’s eyes once again, as the Ogre smashed onto the ground completely and utterly dead.

Everything went silent for some time. Finally someone began to clap, quickly spreading until it was a mighty roar. Midas stood on Gork’s back and raised his bloodied sword. He was panting hard but he tried his best to hold his arm high.

“Looks like I win again.” Fareed laughed. He jabbed the elderly man in the neck. “See? You grumpy old man. The Hamtaro won. Again. Looks like you’re just going to have to go home. Unless you want to do something more drastic?”

The elderly man glared at Fareed.

“I don’t even understand why you care so much.” Fareed shook his head. “It’s not like your son died…”

“No…He didn’t.” The elderly man summoned his servants and quietly left.

Sounds like he’s upset he didn’t die. Family honour...I hope I never get to that point.

The metal disk clanged behind the announcer. “What a magnificent display! Using wit and guile Midas has defeated both Ogres with only a few well-spoken words and even fewer actions. We could all learn to defeat our foes with such little effort. Give praise to our last Hamtaro champion, Midas!”

Again the crowds cheered as Midas was led away and large groups of servants brought flat, open carts to carry the dead Ogres. It took nearly ten people to lift one, it would have been easier if the Ogre’s fat didn’t try and envelop every attempt to manhandle them.

“That was interesting.” Mahdi scratched his beard. “A bit more interesting than just witnessing poor Midas being thrown about like, well, like a mouse. There’s always next time...Unless our new friend wants them?”

“At the very least I would like to speak with him,” Anton said. “I am very, very interested in what he has to say.”

---[]---

Anton was led into a different area of the arena’s underground. His companions followed him, Cetina kept a keen eye on the guards, along with Hazm, Mahdi and Zuhura, though Zuhura would soon be travelling with them. If she proved herself to be a valuable companion she might just travel with them abroad. Anton was fully aware that everyone he was travelling with were women. And so where the people currently surrounding him.

Midas waited for them in a rather decent cell. He was locked behind bars but had many furnishings that even Madhi’s room lacked. The two-foot tall Mouse looked up as he sat on a child’s chair, eating a large meal of cheese, nuts and a morsel of meat. Anton found it adorable that he used cutlery, however he used it with a level of finesse that very few people outside of nobility would have.

“Humans normally don’t visit me.” Midas gently placed down the silver cutlery. “Normally only to tell me what I’ll be fighting tomorrow.”

“I…” Anton glanced at Hazm. “I don’t really know what to say.”

Midas hopped down from the chair and walked towards the iron bars. He wore a thin set of simple clothes, again child-sized, but nothing over his head so Anton could see his face for the fest time. It looked suspiciously like the Rock Rats but smaller.

Maybe that’s how these Hamtaro’s were created. I wonder what the Rock Rats are? Perhaps they aren’t related to any of the ‘craziness’ of this world? They seem pretty happy to stay out of our way.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Midas said to Anton. “You’re staring, but not like the others.”

“Forgive me.” Anton smiled, Midas continued to stare at him with his small brown eyes. “But I saw your fight. It was incredible.”

Midas blinked. His head tilted towards Hazm. Hazm said nothing.

“Let’s start again. My name is Anton. I am a researcher from Graterious, a country from across the sea, and I have come to these lands to study the Wild Beast-kin. When I was talking to Sultan Hazm about getting a guide I learned about your existence-”

“Existence is a good word,” Midas mumbled.

Anton held one of the metal bars. “It really is, isn’t it?”

“So what do you want with me?”

“I want to know more about you-”

“No.” Midas turned away.

“No?” Sheso asked softly.

“No.” Midas returned to his meal. “There’s nothing for us to discuss, pale human.”

“First time I’ve been called that.” Anton mused. He smiled at Hazm. “Is there a chance that I can speak to him in private? Without you or your men present?”

“Why? What could you possibly ask that we cannot be present for?”

“Please, Hazm.” Anton said softly. “I have my ways and I do not wish others to know of it. I’m sure you can understand that I want to keep certain things a secret.”

Hazm looked to be on the fence but needed a little bit more of a push.

“I can heal you too, after we’re done.” Anton said. “Any aches and pains you might have will simply vanish. Not to mention you will feel far more youthful, the strength of your past will return as well.”

Hazm shrugged lightly. “I suppose that is acceptable. We shall be waiting outside to discuss this matter further. Whether or not you can control them, and not have them slit your throats when you sleep is another matter entirely.”

Hazm, Mahdi and his guards left. Zuhura remained, Anton realised that, technically, she was in his service now. He politely asked her to join Hazm until they were done. There was no way to tell if she was trustworthy yet. She did not object, bowed her head and silently left.

“That’s interesting.” Midas shovelled a particularly large piece of cheese into his mouth. “Most...Most of the time the Sultan wouldn’t listen to any outsider.”

“Turns out we rescued a very good friend of his,” Anton said. “Not on purpose, but it all worked out in the end.”

“So what now?” Midas threw them a sideways glance. “Are you going to threaten one of my people so I continue to fight? I’ve already agreed to fight so long as they live. I haven’t seen them today but I will once you lot are gone.”

“That’s horrible,” Calo whispered. Sheso and Axia agreed.

Midas scoffed. “Sure, sure. But what do you want with me? A researcher? That can only mean one thing.”

Anton tapped the twins on their shoulder. “Can you head down the corridor a bit? Just to make sure they don’t sneak up on us? Your hearing is a lot better than mine.”

The twins gave a quick nod and scurried down the hallway. Midas continued to eat in silence but his ears and twitching nose gave away his curiosity.

Anton knelt by the door. “I do not wish to speak loudly of this, but I find it repulsive what humans are doing to the Beast-kin. Especially in Seocuria-”

“I’m not a Beast-kin.” Midas hopped off his chair, brought his plate with him and sat before the door. “But this might be an interesting conversation, at the very least.”

“If you’re not a Beast-kin then what are you?” Cetina asked.

Midas squinted his small eyes at Cetina. “A woman in armour...I am not a Beast-kin. My kind does not come from the wildlands to the east, nor the slaves of Seocuria to the north.”

“And I thought Zuhura was learned.” Anton leant closer. “How is a mouse-Hamtaro, so knowledgeable and articulate?”

Midas shrugged as he idly prodded his food with. “Compared to humans we do not need much sleep. So I’ve spent most of the night reading and learning. There wasn’t much else to do, locked in that tower.”

“They said you were...created in a place far to the east of here. Right on the eastern tip of Frindal.”

Midas shrugged. “I think so. But I wasn’t born then so I wouldn’t know. That’s what my grandparents told me, so…”

“Well, I’ll stop babbling and get to the point.” Anton shuffled closer to the door. “I have a city, far from here, where Beast-kin can live in peace. Beast-kin, Humans, Dwarves and Dark Elves currently call my city home.”

“Oh?” Midas’s ears twitched.

“Those two girls that I sent away? They aren’t Seocurians. They’re Dark Elves.”

“Frindal’s don’t like the Dark Elves…”

“The only noticeable difference is our ears. And both of them have theirs covered.” Anton shrugged. “To most people, they look like they came from Seocuria, and that’s enough to keep them safe.”

“Until they take it off.” Midas nibbled on a small nut. “Or someone takes it off for them.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Anton smiled and raised his hand. A small Lightning Bomb emerged over his hand. “And I can still use magic in this land.”

“What?” Midas scuttled back. “Is that magic?”

“It is.” Anton nodded towards Mezot and Axia. “And they can use magic too. Mezot can utilise magic far more destructive than mine. And yes, even in Frindal.”

“No wonder Hazm wanted to speak with you.” Midas crawled back to his plate of food. “Has he asked your help in destroying the Sana Vākara?”

“No. What do you know about them?”

Midas shrugged. “Not much. Just what I overhear from the guards. None of it good, not that humans killing each other concerns me or my people.”

“Regardless, I can get you out of here and to my city, where your people will be looked after and able to live a life outside of a cell.”

“You…” Midas sighed. “I cannot afford to have my hopes crushed, again…” Midas’s small shoulders dropped. “The only thing stopping me from letting one of the fighters killing me is knowing that if I die so do my people. Nearly fifty Hamtaro’s were in these cells at the start. Now…”

“I can appreciate that trusting me will take considerable time,” Anton said. “But if I were to show a few of your people that the place exists and they tell you, will you convince them to follow me? At least until we leave the city perimeter.”

“Is this city of yours in Frindal?” Midas asked. “Are we supposed to walk through the desert?”

“I have a portal.” Anton glanced at Cetina. “Though Frindal makes it a little unstable and gives you a nasty headache. It’s nowhere near as hot in my city but it does snow. Right now it is, not that you’d know it.”

“What is snow?” Midas tilted his head. “I’ve heard of it.”

“Water, so cold that it has turned into stone.” Anton tapped the floor. “Much colder than this.”

“What a fanciful idea.” Midas almost sounded like he was mocking Anton. “So are you going to buy our freedom?”

“Simply? Yes. Money only has use once it’s spent.”

“That’s...An interesting way to think.”

“Very easy when you have essentially unlimited funds.” Anton stood up. “But it is what I am offering. If you wish to escape this place then I’m the only hope you’ve got.”

“I could easily escape.” Midas stood up. “But it would be impossible to get my people free. If you could actually do that…”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Now.” Anton looked at Cetina. “How to convince them to let a few out for me to send back home?”

“How about pretending to inspect some of the Hamtaro?” Mezot offered. “We are supposed to be researchers…”

Midas shrugged. “I suppose they might do that.”

“Mezot, that’s a great idea.” Anton’s words made Mezot swell with pride. He still found it utterly adorable how she would puff herself up after a simple compliment. “A very good idea. A way to get into a secluded area with enough privacy.”

“The portal should still work,” Cetina said softly.

“Great. Now, let’s see the Sultan. See if we can get a bit of private time with some of your people.”

---[]---

Anton locked the door behind them. The four Hamtaro, some of the oldest amongst their kind, with greyed fur and slightly stooped backs, shook with fear and trepidation. The guards had said they were going to be inspected but the way they said made it sound like it was to be a one-way trip. Anton didn’t want to irk the already annoyed guards by correcting them, they appeared quite happy with standing perfectly still and not doing any work.

“Calo, Sheso and Mezot will be enough to keep anyone from listening,” Anton mumbled as Cetina began to place the portal stones into a circle. “Since I’m sure they’d be more than interested in what we have to say.”

The four Hamtaro wore simple clothes, of a lesser quality than Midas but still far, far better than the Beast-kin of Seocuria. Anton sat in a chair beside a large, long table. It was once some sort of examination table, which made sense. It was what they were allegedly after.

“I do not mean to harm you,” Anton said. He knew his words would sound hollow at best but there was little else what he could do. “But I wish to help you. And your friend, Midas.”

The four Hamtaro’s looked worryingly at one another.

“I know that it is going to be almost impossible to trust me without some sort of demonstration. Are…”

Asking if any of them are wounded is like asking which one wants to die first. I fear they really think that.

Anton saw that one of the Hamtaro’s had a torn ear and their tail had been broken and healed in an odd manner. Anton walked to the Hamtaro, they pulled together as he laid his hand upon the wounded Hamtaro. One tried to bite Anton’s hand but their teeth were unable to puncture through his glove, not that he didn’t feel the pressure on his skin.

“I don’t mean to harm you.” Anton finally touched the head of the terrified Hamtaro even as the other continued to bite onto his hand and scratch with his tiny claws. “The opposite, really.”

The healing prayer took more mana than normal but it was more than acceptable. The Hamtaro’s ear regrew and his tail straightened. He, Anton was sure it was a he, looked at Anton in a state of shock, so too did the others. Only then did the attacking Hamtaro release his bite.

“I-”

“It’s fine.” Anton gently rubbed the bitten hand. “I didn’t think it would be easy to explain convincingly. Besides, last time I did this I could have been strangled by an angry Minotaur.

“Rasha?” Axia asked. “She tried to attack you?”

“Just after we freed them. She didn’t know where we were going, but it’s in the past now.”

And now I’m making her squeal every night. How things change.

“Very much in the past…” Cetina threw him an odd look. “But I wanted to show you that I can be trusted.”

“What do you want with us?”

Anton retook his seat. The four Hamtaro’s shared another glance and stopped just before him.

“I want to bring you to safety, to live and work in my city, but I cannot convince each of you. There are several hundred of you. Instead,” Anton held his hands together and pointed them at the Hamtaro’s head. “I will have you convince him. Makes sense, right?”

“I…” The Hamtaro that bit Anton’s hand scratched underneath his chin. “Why is a human helping us?”

“Because I want you to help me.” Anton leant back. “I do find it horrible what they are doing to you, but I am looking for your help in return. Nothing terrible. Merely that you live and work in my city. Does that sound fair?”

The Hamtaro’s quickly formed a huddle and muttered amongst themselves. Their words were nothing more than little chirps and whistles, they obviously had their own language, a type of Mouse language. Finally they parted and nodded.

“How can you prove it to us?”

Cetina placed the last of the portal stones. The portal flashed into existence, the Hamtaro’s jumped back and scuttled to the far side of the room. Despite their age, they could move very fast.

“I’ll test it first.” Cetina looked at the shimmering portal. “It seems a little better than it was on the ship.”

Cetina gave a tiny shrug and stepped through the portal. The Hamtaro’s gasped as she disappeared in a flash of light. They were about to ask Anton where she had gone when Cetina returned. She grunted and shook her head.

“It’s a little better.” Cetina smiled bitterly. “But we can still use it.”

“Axia? Do you think you can follow the Hamtaro’s through and show them just outside the portal building? I don’t know if Rasha’s there but don’t let them go too far. I’m sure the guards will soon be coming back.”

“Alright…” Axia chuckled nervously. “I don’t like the headaches but if you wants from me.” Axia stopped before the portal and pointed her finger at Anton. “But I want something from you. Something nice.”

“You’ve got it. I’ll make sure you get some pretty clothes.”

“Food too.” Axia winked. “Mother says you can make some very tasty food.”

“You want us to go through there?” A Hamtaro asked.

“It’ll give you a nasty headache.” Axia offered her hand. “But, trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

The Hamtaro’s again shared a worried look but stood just before the portal with Axia. She took one by the hand and stepped onto the portal. The Hamtaro looked surprised when his bare mouse feet did not fall through the white disk. Both flashed away. The remaining three grit their teeth and followed. The room fell quiet.

“How long do you think they’ll be?” Cetina asked.

“I don’t know.” Anton stretched out his legs. “But it should be a few minutes. Don’t forget to ask Hazm about some more armour before we leave. I don’t want you roasting out in the desert.”

“I am rather attached to this.” Cetina ran a hand over her sides. “It’s got me through a few dangerous times.”

“It has...Come here for a moment.”

Cetina tilted her head a little before moving to his side. Anton pulled her down and onto his lap. Cetina squeaked in surprise but her body softened, she pulled herself closer to him and held a hand on his chest.

“I’m not too heavy for you, am I?”

“I didn’t think that women wanted to talk about their weight.”

Cetina scoffed. “I don’t think I’m anything like the women from your world...Do.” Cetina found Anton’s hand and held it. She sighed softly when she realized that she was still wearing her metal gauntlet. “Do you want me to wear something like those women wore? Something short-”

“Yes.”

Cetina laughed at his lack of hesitation. “I thought you would.” Cetina rubbed her free hand over her upper thighs. “Definitely not outside but...I think it would look good. Maybe a good gift for your wives.”

“Having them dance for me would be pretty fun.” Anton smiled. “Four beautiful women shaking their hips and undulating their bodies-”

Anton stopped when Cetina placed a hand on his crotch.

“You are very excited by it.”

Anton looked Cetina dead in her eye. “When Verona and Kal have given birth I want to have a baby with you.”

Cetina’s face turned red. She removed her hand from his crotch and ran it through her hair.

“I didn’t expect you to ask like that.”

Cetina leant forward and kissed him deeply. She wrapped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him in hard, Anton did the same. When they parted their faces were flushed and breathing hard. Anton wiped her mouth free from the strands of saliva that covered her parted lips.

“Of course I will.” Cetina kissed his gloved hand. “You’ll need more bodyguards if I do. Though I think you’ve got that covered with everyone here.”

“Axia’s a little young.” Anton squeezed her cheek. “And Zuhura-”

Cetina sighed. “Now I'm doing Verona’s job, aren’t I?”

Anton smiled. “You’re not that bad.”

“But I’ll leave most of it up to you. Might not be much of a fighter but she looks like she knows more...womanly duties.” Cetina's smirk slowly faded. “Do you think that I’ll be a good mother?”

“Absolutely.” Anton kissed her again, more tenderly this time. “And I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He gently rubbed her stomach. “I can’t wait to see-”

The portal flashed again. Cetina jumped up and calmly approached the portal, as calmly as she could with a red face. She smiled at Anton as Axia groaned and held her temple.

“It’s still awful.”

Beside her, the four Hamtaro’s stood still. They looked a little dazed but were not rubbing their temples.

“The headache will soon pass-”

“We didn’t feel anything.” A Hamtaro scratched his nose, where the whiskers emerged from his nose. “She...Your friend seemed to be in a lot of pain.”

“It will pass.” Anton beckoned for Axia to come to him. He gently massaged her head, which seemed to ease the pain, though it was certainly only on a physiological level. “But what did you think of my city?”

“It…” The Hamtaro that bit Anton’s hand winced slightly. “It was incredible. There were Beast-kin and pale Humans, and dark-skinned Humans with long ears and really short Humans as well...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It is a city called Atros. Safely hidden from the world and from Frindal, safe from the people that hold you captive. I cannot guarantee that your lives will not be without struggle or hardship but I can that I will do everything in my power to ensure the Hamtaro’s not only survive but thrive alongside Atros. Food and housing is provided.”

“Do you have cheese there?” Another Hamtaro asked. “Nuts?”

Are you really just a big mouse?

“We do. Quite a few varieties. And if there are any types you don’t like we can always buy them. Compared to some of the things that I want to buy, food is one of the least expensive things.”

“If Midas dies then we’re all dead.” The biting Hamtaro said softly. “We won’t last a day in the arena.”

“So you’ll join us?”

“What choice do we have?”

“You make it sound like I’m forcing you-”

“We’ll go.” Said the fourth Hamtaro. He had not spoken a word until now, the other three quickly fell into line. “Do you expect to bring all of our people through this portal thing?”

“I do. But not here.” Anton stood up. “It’s far too suspicious for nearly eight hundred of your kind to just vanish. We haven’t bought you yet...Suffice to say that we need to get out of the city first, then we can send you through the portal to safety. Actually, we’ll put you on a boat and have them send you through to Atros. That’ll save a lot of drama. Now. Do any of you know a way to tell Midas to trust us without speaking to him? There’s no way we can get any of you four to see him.”

“He did say that he was going to see the cells that held your people,” Cetina said softly.

The fourth Hamtaro shook his head. “Midas is only there for a few moments. Just long enough to check that we are alive and then he’s taken away. We can shout it to him...But I think that you don’t want the guards to hear what we have to say. Right?”

“Correct. So, do you have a way?”

“I...I might have something.” The biting Hamtaro said.

He ripped a small piece of cloth from his shirt and bit into his finger, just enough to draw blood. Anton was a little shocked but not when he began to write on the cloth with his slim claw. He sucked on his claw when he was done and rubbed the back of the cloth between his eyes. After giving the cloth a final inspection he passed the piece of cloth to Anton. It looked to be little more than a strange series of scrawls but there was some pattern to it, some semblance of a foreign and alien script.

“This will be enough to tell Midas that you’re trustworthy and we should follow what you have to say.”

“You could have just asked for a pen.” Anton gently placed the cloth into his pocket. “It isn’t necessary to spill blood.”

“It has my scent.” The Hamtaro tapped his twitching nose. “Ink does not.”

“And what’s to stop Midas thinking that we tortured you for the information?” Anton asked dryly. Cetina nodded glumly while Axia winced.

The Hamtaro did not look concerned. “Don’t worry. Our scents can’t be forged. He will know that it wasn’t under duress.”

I wonder if that could be circumvented with drugs. Then again they’ll probably be able to tell that there are drugs coursing through their body.

“I will.” Anton held the cloth delicately in his hand. “Hopefully he doesn’t pick up my scent. But don’t you worry. Your days of rotting in a cell are over.”

The Hamtaro’s looked at him with a mixture of hope and dubiousness. He would soon prove them wrong.

---[]---

“I still can’t believe the way you have with animals,” Wilford said to Anton. “Every time you can make the most wild creature completely compliant.”

He nodded to the large open, iron-barred containers that contained the Hamtaro’s as they were being loaded onto the ship. The small mouse creatures sat in their cages as they rattled from side to side. None said a word nor tried to fight against their current situation. To any outsider, they seemed perfectly compliant to head to whatever fate had in store for them. Which was true, in a sense. Midas said nothing after receiving the bloodstained note. He licked a corner and returned it to Anton, then telling him to return it to the other Hamtaro’s. After one mere sniff, the Hamtaro’s let out a series of squeaks and became very compliant.

“I have a way with words.” Anton smiled. “But I do owe the Sultan something for the trouble.”

Hazm, his guards, and Mahdi stood some meters away, even more shocked than Wilford. Hazm couldn’t decide if he was going to laugh or shake his head in disbelief.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Hazm asked. “I’m sure that you could earn a considerable fortune as a beast tamer. If you could do what you did to the Hamtaro or the Feral Beast-kin you could earn infinitely more money than you could be doing research for Graterious.”

“I’m afraid not.” Anton smiled. “But I must depart immediately.”

“Are you certain?” Hazm frowned. “I could easily offer you a house and servants, if you wished.”

Anton continued to smile. “While your land is beautiful it will be some time before I come through here again. I hope that you could house me for a few days.”

A smaller cage moved past, containing Midas. He sat in the metal box, watching Anton intently.

“Just make sure he doesn’t get out.” Mahdi laughed. “I don’t want to hear of Hamtaro pirates plying the seas around Frindal.”

Anton laughed as well. “Now that would be something very interesting.”

Anton produced a small scroll, sealed with a plain stamp of wax and two small simple pens. “Wilford. These are the instructions for the Hamtaro. Only open it once you’re at sea, beyond the range of the mana dampening field. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“That thing in your room?” Wilford took the scroll. “I understand. Not a problem.”

“And these are for you.” Anton offered Hazm both of the communication pens. “If you are ever in need, or require help write with these. I will receive it and do whatever I can.”

Anton demonstrated the communication pens function. Hazm and Mahdi were shocked, they were even more surprised that Wilford was completely unphased by such an incredible feature.

“This…” Hazm frowned even more. “With something like this you don’t even need to do whatever it is that you did to the Hamtaro’s-”

“Speaking of…” Anton reached into his pockets again and produced a Tanzanite gemstone. “I believe this will more than cover your losses of the Hamtaro’s.”

Hazm gingerly took the purple gemstone. His shaking hand held the gemstone towards the sunlight.

“This is real…” He looked at Wilford in disbelief. “Who is this man?”

Wilford scratched the back of his head. “I honestly don't really know. But his money’s good and he hasn’t asked me to do anything dangerous or stupid. That’s more than enough for me.”

Hazm softly sighed, shook his head and closed his eyes. “If my servants had told me what I would witness today I would have thought they were mad. And yet…”

“I hope that Zuhura is still to act as our guide,” Anton said.

Hazm blinked. “Yes. Yes she is, even if you didn’t give me this.”

Zuhura stood nearby, watching the last of the Hamtaro’s being loaded onto The Snowberry. Her head was tilted slightly as she studied the ship. Its structure was different to anything else in the dock, different from the designs of the Frindal ships. Anton spied a ship in the distance that matched a Graterious design, or perhaps Qaiviel.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Sultan Hazm.” Anton offered his hand for the Sultan to shake. “It has been truly a pleasure.”

Hazm gingerly took his hand, fearful that he was about to receive a burn like Mahdi. He seemed very happy when he removed his hand, unburnt.

Anton did not offer it to Mahdi. “Take it easy on your future battles.”

Mahdi laughed. “That I will. Good luck on your journey, strange mage.”

The sailors shouted that they were ready. Wilford turned to Hazm and hugged him deeply.

“I’ll see you again, old friend. Once Anton has sent me to every continent I believe that I will be allowed to sail where ever I want.” Wilford looked to Anton who nodded once. “So I’ll be able to come back then. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“Well get on with it then.” Hazm shook his head. “The sooner you get it done the sooner you can come back. And the sooner I can hear more about what you’ve seen across the world.”

Wilford gave the Sultan a final hug, Mahdi a brief wave and ran towards The Snowberry. He ran up the wooden gangplank and immediately began shouting orders to the crew.

“He’ll be back.” Hazm waved to his guards. “Good luck with your journey, Anton. When Wilford returns I wish to know what it is you wanted with the Feral Beast-kin. And if you’re ever in need of work just come visit me. I’ll always have a room available for you, and your companions, of course.”

With that the Sultan and his guards left, leaving Anton standing amongst the busy Frindal dock workers who immediately took advantage of the vacated space. Anton took his companions and moved towards a less busy area.

“What’s happening with them?” Calo asked. “The mouse people?”

“Once Wilford gets far enough away he’s to open Midas’s cage and direct him to the portal,” Anton said. “After that he’s to free the others and send them through. Then he’s to sail to the Holy Kingsland, but that was his destination already.”

“He seems to have it pretty easy,” Sheso said, her eyes narrowing towards the busy sailors aboard The Snowberry. “Makes heaps of money, gets to travel the world on his own ship.”

Anton shrugged. “That’s fine. I have no idea how to sail a ship. And this way I can continue to explore the world and meet interesting characters. I wouldn’t have met any Dark Elves if I hadn’t.”

Calo and Sheso smiled.

“When we stop for the night, wherever that will be, I’ll return to Atros and see how the Hamtaro’s are going. I just need to see Verona and Kal first, tell them what’s happening so they don’t think I’ve just lost my mind.” Anton held a hand to his brow. “I think I can see them now. They’re probably thinking that I’ve turned off Beast-kin women and now are fully invested into the Beast part.”

Anton laughed but no one else did. His voice trailed off as silence settled over them.

“Please don’t work too hard,” Mezot spoke softly. Her face softened. “When you helped us escape Graterious I heard that you rode all night without stopping and fell asleep in the back of my class…” Mezot’s eyes began to grow wet. “Please don’t do that again.”

“I won’t.” Anton nodded once. “That was...An emergency. But this isn’t, so I’ll get a full night’s rest. I imagine you often pulled long nights?”

Mezot nodded.

Anton clapped his hands together. “Now...Shit. We didn’t get the armour from the arena.”

Cetina nodded towards the markets. “We’ll just buy it in the market. It’s not a problem. I still have some of the money that you gave me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Anton began walking towards the market after ensuring everyone was following closely. “I’ve still got lots of gold and silver-”

“How did you have a Tanzanite stone?” Sheso whispered harshly at Anton. “That’s worth so much money.”

“From the Goblins.” Anton smiled. “Not from the Seocurian mines. But…” Anton clicked his tongue. “I think we’ve just determined one of our future raiding sights.”

“So much money…” Sheso started giggling. “We could have anything we could possibly want.”

“We also need to buy some of the good cloth and spices for home.” Anton nodded towards Zuhura, waiting patiently at the end of the dock with her hands clasped in front of her. “And we have the perfect guide.”

Calo, Sheso and Axia shared a knowing look but said nothing.

Volume 05 - Chapter 50 - The Nomad CLans

Cetina stood before a large open market stall bristling with weapons and armour. Zuhura’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the owner, a Frindal man chatting with what Anton presumed to be a mercenary captain.

“No.” Zuhura shook her head. “He is fraudulent.”

“I am not!” The owner shouted at Zuhura, stomping towards the front of the open stall. “Some stupid Nomad has no right to tell me how to run my business-”

His other customer gasped as he held a broken sword. The handle had completely disintegrated while the base of the metal sword was heavily rusted and badly chipped. Anton had watched him closely, he had not smashed it against anything, rather just swinging it like Cetina would before a training session. He dropped the broken parts and left, not before giving them a silent thanks.

The stall owner scowled at Zuhura. “You cost me-”

“Shut up.” Anton stood in before the stall owner. “Go back to peddling your crap to some other unsuspecting fool.”

The stall owner curled his fists but refused to swing first. He didn’t even see Cetina approach him from the side, when he did he huffed and left to hide the broken pieces of his sword.

“You’re oddly combative,” Anton said to Zuhura.

“I did not think that your…” Zuhura glanced at Cetina. “Guard, should be equipped with substandard equipment.”

“Thank you.”

“These are great!” Calo ran up to them. She held a large bundle of brightly coloured cloth over her head. Sheso carried hers in a more traditional manner while throwing her sister an odd look.

"I could tell just by his eyes," Zuhura said softly. "They were full of greed and delight, delight that he had scammed someone out of money."

"Doesn't sound like it's a good idea in the long run." Anton followed Cetina as she looked in all of the armour stalls, somewhat disappointed by what they found. "If I was robbed like that, and it came loose in a battle, I'd be coming back to give him a piece of my mind."

Zuhura nodded. "While that is true you still could have purchased faulty equipment and paid the price with your life. Or one of your companions. A future reckoning for his misdeeds does not stop a spear or arrow tip."

"Fancy words," Cetina grumbled.

Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. She wasn't actually annoyed, well, not completely.

Zuhura stopped before a modest-looking stall. She waved her hand at Anton, who only just caught it in his peripheries before turning a corner.

"You can just yell my name," Anton said. He quickly caught Cetina's attention and brought her back. "It's much easier."

"I have been taught never to raise my voice to a man." Zuhura coughed, flattening the thin veil covering her mouth. "I-I believe this establishment will be more than sufficient."

The stall owner did not hear as he was currently engaged with three other prospective buyers.

"This does look good." Cetina mused as she looked at the armour. "It's light too...Zuhura? Is this what most people out in the deserts wear? Harm's guards and those in the arena wore more than this."

Zuhura shook her head. "In the desert, no. Raw metal burns against the skin and causes all manner of problems."

"What about you?" Axia asked. She pointed to the thick band holding Zuhura's veil over her nose. "There's gold there."

"My headscarf keeps the sun off my face." Zuhura frowned as she ran a finger along the edge of the finely woven fabric. "And you should consider one as well. Maybe not as long or expensive..." Zuhura's finger lingered near the bottom of the scarf for some time. "It will keep the sun off your head and prevent sand from entangling itself in your hair."

Calo and Sheso pulled on Anton's sleeve. They pointed to their ears, hidden underneath their helmet and a tightly bound piece of cloth.

"We'll get a rough size for you two," Anton said. "And at least some armour."

Anton pulled the loose cloth on Sheso's arm. "A good spear will go right through this."

"We should get something as well," Axia said as she entered the open stall. "Cetina? Which do you think is a good piece? I have no idea."

Cetina began to explain the different advantages and disadvantages of the displayed armour sets. Mezot quickly moved to her daughters' side while Calo and Sheso meandered in and began perusing, leaving Anton with Zuhura. She remained perfectly still, with her hands lightly clasped in front of her, as she patiently waited for further instructions.

"Do you not want anything?" Anton asked. Zuhura looked at him with her brown eyes, unspeaking but wanting more clarification.

"You aren't wearing any armour." Anton tapped the small dagger on his belt. "If someone were to attack you, you wouldn't stand a chance. Unless you're already wearing some."

"Women are forbidden to fight," Zuhura replied calmly. "So there is no need for armour or weapons. And...I am only wearing a single piece of cloth underneath this."

Zuhura pulled the front of her shawl up and let it drop. Anton noticed how far it did not fall, confirming some of his suspicions.

"You should at least have a dagger with you if you're going to be travelling with us. We...Going to strange and exotic places is always fraught with danger. You understand that we're going to find the Feral Beastkin. Right?"

"I am aware. But-"

Anton unfastened one of his daggers, a cheap one he had taken from a slain enemy, who or where it came from he could not remember, and passed it to Zuhura. She hesitated to even touch the leather sheath, let alone its handle, before finally accepting the blade.

"Keep it well hidden if it's a problem to have it seen." Anton pointed to her boots. "Try hiding it there. Maybe strap it to your leg with a bit of cloth."

"I-"

"Even if you don't use it it's something good to have on you, just in case." Anton smiled as he entered the stall. "The sight of a sharpened steel might just be enough to dissuade someone trying to rob or assault you."

Zuhura stared at the dagger. A shaky hand pulled it out an inch before she ran her finger alongside the edge. She scammed the dagger back into its sheath and held it tight in her hand.

"Thank you," Zuhura whispered. She hid the dagger up her sleeve and entered the shop.

---[]---

"It will be extremely difficult to travel alone through the deserts." Zuhura continued to explain as they neared the southern city walls. They had been walking for some time, considerably more than when they had crossed the Graterious capital Boreana, and only now was the wall in sight. "Certainly impossible for us as we do not have mounts."

"What do they have here?" Anton asked. "No horses, they wouldn't like this heat or the sand."

"I don't want to bring mine here," Cetina mumbled.

"Camels?” Anton offered. “They seem pretty tough."

"There are no horses. But, we do have other creatures." Zuhura nodded towards the open southern gate. "Now you can see why horses would not work here."

Beyond the gate lay a smattering of small houses and sparse arid plantations, full of date trees and other hardy fruit-bearing plants. Beyond that lay a golden brown desert extending as far as the eye could see, broken up by numerous tall and craggy mountains, standing tall and defiant against the seas of sand.

“Oh…” Anton chuckled. “There’s no way we’re going to find our way with this.”

He tapped the place where he had placed the map of Frindal. It was very detailed but it would be incredibly easy to get lost in the endless expanse of sand. He doubted the mountains would mean much to a foreigner like him.

“It’s not completely barren.” Zuhura pointed to the closest mountain. “There are cities outside of the coast, not as many or as populated.”

At the base Anton could just make out a small settlement, green against the brown mountain and yellow sand. The buildings had mostly been carved into the mountain, just like the Orcs at the Red Spines.

“I understand now…” Anton looked back along the city. He could barely see the port, the masts of the ships were obscured by the innumerable buildings they had passed. “There’s a lot of people here. Anyway, do we think we have everything ready?”

“I think so,” Cetina said. “We have the stones if things get difficult.”

Zuhura raised a black brow but said nothing.

Anton checked over himself. He wore a lighter set of white and light clothes, similar to the other Frindal Men but with his Arachnid silk underlay still on. Ulyaa’s thread was truly the work of miracles, incredibly strong, light and didn’t make Anton overheat. It was also deceptive. No one would think he was wearing clothes underneath that would easily stop a blade. The other women in his group now looked similar to Zuhura. None of their body was exposed apart from their face, even their hair was covered by a thick and colourful headscarf.

Calo and Sheso wore matching colours, a dull purple, along with a thick headscarf that hid their helmet and long ears. They had managed to hide their long ears when they had changed, along with hiding their many weapons. Mezot and Axia wore similar clothes as well, Mezot an icy blue and Axia a bright red. Their charms were now wrapped tight and hidden from few. Mezot said it was not necessary to have them exposed in order to work, it appeared to be just a cosmetic choice. Cetina was far more extravagant, at least compared to the rest, so much so that even Zuhura raised a brow at her colour scheme choice, wearing a mixture of yellow, red and blue for her shawl. She was rather impressed at how it came together, Anton did not have to hear to tell her it looked unbelievably gaudy. Her sword was hidden, just like the twins, but her shield was too large. She had bought a smaller shield, a bit larger than a buckler, while she carried her current shield over her back.

Together they carved a strange sight through the Khoradeh streets. Anton felt it was odd that he was the most plainly dressed, despite being the one that directed where they were going.

“Zuhura? Don’t we look a bit...Odd?”

“...No.”

That’s a yes.

Anton sighed. “So long as they don’t think we’re an easy mark. A few blasts of magic, even a few healings, should be more than enough to keep them at bay.”

“Be careful with magical displays,” Zuhura said softly. “The Sana Vākaras might try something if they think you’re easy prey.”

“But you can point them out to us.” Anton smiled. “So we don’t make terrible decisions.”

“I will try.”

“Are we going to carry these the whole time?” Calo raised her bundle of brightly coloured cloth. “If we are...I might just want to go home.”

“No.” Zuhura continued walking towards the southern gate. “The Nomad Tribes always travel with transportation. One cannot cross and survive in the desert without the necessary tools and equipment.”

“Anything magical?” Anton stopped himself. “I honestly doubt they would have anything here. Although...If they did it would make them very powerful.”

Once we’re travelling I’ll see about making that endless water skin. I still have the cold stone, but that’s still in Atros.

“There is almost always a Nomad Tribe camped just outside the city walls,” Zuhura said. “We will barter with them for transportation and protection. It is the only safe way to travel through the deserts.”

Anton wondered if the Nomad’s would dress differently than the Frindal’s. Their lifestyle and environment were entirely different, infinitely more sand and less water but there were only so many ways to effectively deal with the desert. The people they passed became more weathered and their clothes more tattered and rough, where the unending and unrelenting winds and sands had weathered the cloth thin and the people were not rich enough to replace.

Seems the poorer districts are nearer to the desert. I suppose that makes sense. Why would you want to have sand throughout your house?

Zuhura’s body relaxed as they passed through the large city gate, flanked by dozens of armoured guards and archers patrolling the walls. Anton stepped around her and his jaw almost dropped. A small sprawling tent city lay nestled against the city wall, the tents made from simple and cheap cloth while brightly coloured figures moved amongst them and the market stalls.

“I thought you couldn’t have markets inside…” Anton smiled. “I see the loophole. Why doesn’t Hazm clamp down on it?”

“It keeps the peace.” Zuhura did not stop walking. “And Hazm eventually gets his share of the money. Of that I can assure you.”

I wonder what else you have seen. Maybe something incriminating? Or perhaps Hazm is completely honest and innocent? Maybe we’ll never know.

“Anything interesting in these markets?” Axia asked. She pulled her headscarf back to get a better look at the market. “Anything that might interest us?”

“No Hamtaro’s.” Zuhura glanced back at Anton. “Or any other creatures.” She looked back to the Nomad tents. “But mostly foods and minerals that they trade with the Frindal’s. But you can get better weapons and armour inside the city, these are still better than going without.”

Anton inspected the items on display as they passed. They were mainly raw resources; spices, foods and strange coloured salts. But the people interested Anton the most. The women dressed the same but had less jewellery and a piece of long cloth hanging from their temples almost reaching their chin. Two slits lay in the middle, where the eyes would rest if the cloth piece covered their face. Anton also saw some thicker straps lines of cloth along the top and bottom of the piece for support. The men did not have the mouth veil, like Zuhura, but one that covered their entire face with another slit for their eyes. Evidently, blinding sandstorms were a significant threat. Anton looked towards the south. The clear and seemingly endless blue skies hinted nothing as to why the Nomads wore, and continued to wear, such thick coverings.

Zuhura deftly guided them through the outer perimeter of the Nomad Tents. They did attract some attention, they were the only ones not from this Nomad Tribe to be travelling so deep. Some looked on warily but none had tried to stop them. Yet. Anton did not like the feeling that they were slowly being surrounded, something he saw in Cetina, Calo and Sheso’s wandering eyes.

“I…” Zuhura pointed to the largest tent. On top fluttered a red flag with an orange shield, the shield had a large cut on the right side. “This Tribe is the Baladī Aga. A good tribe. And I believe that belongs to the tribal leader. As outsiders we must speak with him first. Any deals we might make will be void unless we already have his approval.”

“This isn’t the Tribe that you came from. Is it?” Anton asked. “I don’t want to be ambushed-”

“My tribe is still far to the south,” Zuhura said rather forcefully. “I doubt we will meet them. And I do not wish to either.”

Being bartered to Hazm, the threat of death coming at any moment while serving the man who would inflict would not endear me to my family.

Anton saw the first Nomads that wielded weapons. Unlike the Costal Frindals these use a mixture of bone and metal weapons. Anton did not know how strong they were but, undoubtedly, the Nomads wouldn’t use something that was a detriment to their survival. They simply wouldn’t be here if it did.

Zuhura stopped a few meters from the wary guards but did not speak. Anton presumed that women were not to speak first.

"Hello." Anton stood next to Zuhura, who stepped back a single step. "We wish to speak with your leader in regards to travelling with your group to the western borders."

"You already are on the western border or Frindal, Outsider." The guard spoke softly and with a slight accent.

"Not in the interior," Anton said. "I believe that border connects with the Feral Beastkin."

The guards shared a glance.

"And why would an outsider wish to travel so far?"

"Research," Anton said proudly. "As you can tell I am not from here. I am originally from Graterious, far across the northern seas. I seek to study the Feral Beastkin, to see how they differ from the ones held by the Seocurians."

The guards were unmoved by Anton's words.

"I am also more than willing to pay for the journey, as well as offer any assistance that my education allows me."

One of the guards raised his hand. "I will discuss this with our Elders. They will decide if you can come with us."

The guard slinked into the tent. Anton did not even catch a glimpse of what lay inside.

"It is improper for a woman to speak first," Zuhura said softly. "Especially when trying to petition a Tribal Elder."

"I hope you will stop me before I say or do something stupid," Anton whispered back.

"I will." Zuhura smiled beneath her veil. "But so far you have done everything correctly. I hope that it continues."

The guard emerged, careful not to throw open the flap any further than necessary.

"They will see you." The guard stepped to one side. "But it is up to them to determine if you can travel with us."

Again Zuhura did not move. She looked at Anton, then to the tent.

Right. I'm supposed to go first.

Anton gingerly entered the tent first. He was expecting the guards to admonish him for presuming the rest were allowed in but the guards remained silent.

The interior of the tent was sparsely furnished, simple tables and chairs lay unoccupied while four men and three women sat on large, plush cushions around a small bronze sphere. A small fire burned underneath the sphere, seven pipes, of a material Anton had not seen before, led out of the top of the sphere and into a long brass implement in each of their hands. One of the men brought the end to his lips and sucked hard. His lungs filled with something, his face softened and he slowly exhaled a dark purple smoke.

Ah. I see. Hopefully they aren't stoned out of their minds and...Actually, that might make things easier. Just offer them some good food and we'll be done.

The man slowly turned to Anton.

"Welcome outsider." The man spoke as softly as the guard, but there was a slight crackle to his voice, Anton guessed from inhaling so much smoke. "We do not see many of your kind here, especially in the desert."

"I have not seen many from Graterious either..."

Well, this was fun. I don't know how to address them...

Zuhura leant close. "Honoured Elders."

"Honoured Elders." Anton gently bowed his head. "I wish to petition for travel and safety to the western-"

Another man waved him down. "Sit. Sit. Man of Graterious. This seems like it might be a long conversation."

He nodded to an empty cushion between one of the women and men, both of whom were drawing heavily on the purple smoke.

"Thank you."

As Anton moved to take his seat Zuhura quickly spoke with the others and directed them to sit behind him. Cetina clearly wanted to stand but eventually gave in. They all sat however they did not sit with their legs tucked underneath their rear. Two of the men and one women began to mutter amongst themselves.

"Interesting." The woman next to Anton blew out a great breath of smoke, thankfully not at his face. "Seems like at least one of you knows how to sit properly."

But...You're sitting nothing like Zuhura. None of you are.

"If you want a draw you can have one." The woman offered Anton her pipe. "It'll clear your head of any troubles you might have."

"I..." Anton glanced back to Zuhura. She gave no indicator as to what he should do. "Perhaps another time."

"Fine by me." The woman took back her pipe and continued to draw on the purple smoke.

Anton cleared his throat. "I, and my companions, wish to meet the Feral Beastkin. I have been informed that it is infinitely safer to travel with one of the Nomad Tribes. Especially since I do not know the way exactly, nor how to survive in the desert. I can pay you for your assistance, if that is what is required.”

“Sure.” The first man shrugged. “So long as you cover your own expenses...And make sure that you don’t start any fights, I don’t see a problem with it.”

The others gently shook their heads. Two of the men needed to be nudged awake, they shook their heads and quickly agreed with whatever had been said around them.

“Is...Is that it?” Anton looked back. Zuhura remained perfectly still, apart from her breathing. The others looked quite surprised as well, except for Mezot who was more interested in the brass sphere and hopefully not its contents.

“Yes. We aren’t as paranoid as those Frindals.” The man drew heavily on the smoke, sputtering as he slowly exhaled. “But don’t think that we are easy prey either. Many have learned the hard way.”

“T-Thank you.” Anton bowed his head. “Though we are few in number we will do everything we can to help. Is there anyone in need of healing? I feel that I should do something to repay...”

Zuhura let out a tiny cough. The atmosphere of the room had instantly changed.

Sana Vākara’s offer healing too. An excuse to convert people. Nothing like mine...But they don’t know that.

“If you think that you, outsider, are going to proselytise that disgusting belief that you-”

Anton raised his hands. “Forgive me. I have not even been here a day. I do not follow the Sana Vākara’s faith, nor have I even met one, but I have been told it is a sore subject. I do not mean faith healing but actual magic.”

“Magic?” The man next to Anton scoffed. “In Frindal? You must be mad!”

Anton summoned a small Lightning and Fire Bomb. Their drugged eyes opened in shock, though it wasn’t enough to stop them from continuing to smoke.

“I can perform actual magic, not whatever the Sana Vākaras claim to use.”

“Fire and Lightning?” The man slowly nodded. “That will come in use...Do you know of the dangers of the desert?”

“I know of dehydration, heatstroke and hallucination.” Anton offered. “But I have the feeling that’s not what you’re talking about.”

“Sometimes those are the biggest killer.” The man leant back and stretched out his legs. “I remember coming across a caravan, there must have been two or three hundred Nomads. All dead.” He leant forward and pointed the end of the pipe at Anton. “They had run out of water less than half a day’s walk from the nearest oasis.”

“Do you mean monsters?” Cetina asked softly.

The men threw her a slightly dirty look. Cetina held her ground, metaphorically speaking, by staring right back at them until they slowly cast their eyes back to the brass sphere. Anton noticed that even the women were giving Cetina dirty looks, far worse than the men.

Wow. Really?

“That woman.” The man next to Anton began. “Is she a warrior?”

“She is,” Anton replied firmly. “And she has killed many would-be assailants, even those that did not underestimate her based solely on what does not dangle between her legs.”

The man seemed somewhat impressed. Or he could have just been having another high from the smoke.

"Is there going to be a problem with my companions having weapons?" Anton asked flatly. "Though I appreciate that our laws and customs may be different, I will not have them unarmed."

"So long as they don't flout it." One of the women mumbled. "As Outsiders you will be forgiven for some...indiscretions."

You really don't want women to have any weapons. I wonder if it's because you're afraid what might happen if they did? While it's clearly embedded in the older generations the younger might be more open.

"Thank you," Anton said. "I know they will only use their weapons in self-defence."

Again some of the men grumbled but none voiced any real objections.

"If you have any sick or wounded please send them to me. I can heal them, even if it's a fatal wound if I can get there fast enough. I can do this for free, since we will be travelling together."

The tribal Elders shared a look.

"My son is quite ill." One of the two men who had almost fallen asleep spoke. "Desert Lung. It's like he's breathed only sand for a whole season. It is terrible to listen to..."

He quickly drew on the smoke, not speaking until the smoke leaked through his nose.

To try and forget the screams and pleas...

"Should not be a problem."

"If that's true then you can come in my sled." He shakily rose to his feet. "Otherwise you'd probably be walking the whole way."

"That would be tiring for us." Anton slowly nodded. "But I have not seen one of these sleds-"

"Come then." He stumbled over the pipes and motioned for Anton to stand. "Let's see if you're telling the truth."

---[]---

Anton's heart was torn when he saw the son. He was little more than a boy, barely eight years old a day already he was fighting for his life. A battle he was sadly losing. He lay in a bed covered in blankets, yet he shivered like he had been dropped naked into the snow. Sweat poured from his face, the pillow was saturated and his eyes chaotically twitched back and forth. But it was the cough that made Anton truly sick. The poor boy could barely breathe, every other breath preceded a cough that brought up Phlegm and a shattering of blood.

"Bedes?" The Nomad Elder knelt by the bed. "Can you hear me?"

Two women, dressed in the Nomad fashion, sat by his side. As the Elder approached they hurried out of his way, keeping their eyes cast down.

"Can you hear me?"

Bedes began to cough violently again. A hand gripped his chest as his head rolled back and forth.

"Is it contagious?" Anton asked. "If he is you shouldn't be that close."

"No." The man rested his hands on the edge of the bed. "Only if you drink the contaminated water. I told him..." He shook his head. "By the time I saw what he was drinking it was too late."

“I will do what I can.” Anton stepped closer to the sick child. “I believe that I can do it.”

“Please…” The man couldn’t bear to look at his son any longer.

Please let this work. The only thing’s that going to stop me is some sort of magic immune disease. Please do not let it be this one.

Anton placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. Through the globe he could feel the warmth, Bedes was burning. The fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. Anton mumbled a healing prayer, he didn’t know what the Nomad Tribes thought of the Old Gods. The Mana Dampening field caused him to expend a massive amount of mana, on top of what was required for healing such a sickly child. His hand began to shake from the withdrawal but that was barely a concern. Bedes breathing calmed, the colour returned to his skin and his eyes focused. He blinked at Anton then quickly turned his attention to his father.

“Dad?” Bedes struggled to sit up. “W-What happened? I...Don’t know-“

“Bedes!” The man lunged and hugged his son tight. “I thought that I’d lose you!”

You were spending your time getting high with the other Elders. But...What else could you do if nothing works?

“Dad.” Bedes smiled nervously. “I feel better. So much better...All I could think of...”

“I can’t believe that you’re better.” The man hugged his nervous son and jumped to his feet. “Thank you, Anton.”

“It was my pleasure…”

The man smiled. “Oh, sorry. My name is Temur. I didn’t give it before…” Temur shook Anton’s hand with all his might, the moment he stopped they began to shake. “Forgive me, Outsider. I am just so relieved to know that my boy will live.”

“You mentioned water.” Anton smiled at Bedes. “Where did you find this water?”

“It was an oasis.” Bedes pulled himself up. The two Frindal women rushed to his side and delicately helped him. “Thank you.” He frowned lightly at Anton. “It was an oasis away from the normal...routes. It seemed really nice. Nestled at the base of a mountain, with many large trees and fruit bushes. The water seemed fine-”

“Couldn’t you see the poison floating over it?” Temur knelt by Bedes. “The moment I found you I could see the poison shimmering in the air? You must have been breathing it for almost a whole day.”

Some sort of heavy poison that evaporated from the oasis but was trapped by the small depression? It would continue to accumulate and could easily prove to be lethal.

“Do you remember where this oasis is?” Anton asked. “Though it sounds dangerous we should still have a look. Others could fall victim to it if we don’t deal with it, one way or the other.”

“I do,” Bedes said happily. “I do remember. I-”

Temur held his head. “We can discuss this later. For now, I think you need to rest.”

“But I feel fine!” Bedes threw his arms into the air. Despite his bluster they shook at the strain of having to hold them upright.

“Rest for now.” Temur ruffled his hair once more. “We’ll talk more at dinner.”

“Okay.” Bedes closed his eyes. “I feel fine. Really I…”

Bedes had fallen into a deep sleep. His head slumped to one side as he breathed softly, nothing like the rancid cough he had before.

Temur turned to the two women. “Make sure he stays in bed. I don’t want him to be moving until he’s properly rested.”

“Of course, Elder Temur.” The two spoke and bowed as one.

Temur gave a tiny nod and motioned for Anton to follow him from the room. Calo and Sheso shared a shrug as they followed Anton close behind.

“Thank you,” Temur said the moment they left the tent. “I thought I had lost him. I…” He scratched the back of his head. “I was honestly just waiting for them to tell me he had died. I know it sounds terrible as a father but there was nothing I could do. There is no cure for Desert Lung that bad...And yet.”

“If there is anyone else in your Tribe that is suffering from the disease, or any similar to it, I will do what I can to heal them. But know that I cannot do it indefinitely. These lands interfere with my ability to use mana. I dare not use too much, but one or two a day would be fine.”

“That would be wonderful.” Temur smiled. “We should be paying you to travel with us. The other tribes would be so envious. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see their faces.”

“Why is magic so hard to use here?” Mezot asked. She held her cloth-wrapped staff tight. “I’ve never felt anything like it. The people inside the city do not seem to know, or are not willing to say anything.”

Temur scoffed. “Of course not. They’ve got too much salt in their heads. It’s the sea, you see. It makes their minds weak and soft.” Temur nodded towards the west. “I remember my grandfather telling a story of a group of wandering mages that were shipwrecked on the coast. They...They came from the south and wanted to head north. Anyway, they felt it too. Some sort of Mana Inhibitor, I think the called it. The further west you go the stronger it gets. I’m pretty sure they found something in one of the mountains. What, I cannot say. I think it’s clear to say that they didn’t destroy it.”

“Do we have time?” Mezot asked excitedly. “Maybe we can discover what it is.”

“Once we have finished our investigation of the Feral Beast-kin then we should have some spare time.”

Mezot frowned softly. “But aren’t-”

Axia lightly jabbed her mother’s side. Mezot closed her mouth and nodded once.

“Walk with me.” Temur pointed to the south. “We will be leaving tonight, it is safest to travel during dawn and dusk, but you will want your accommodations for the night.”

“Thank you again for doing this for us.” Anton began. “We-”

Temur waved him down. “You saved my son’s life. That’s more than enough. But I think your magic will be extremely useful if, when, we encounter the desert monsters.”

“And what are they?” Cetina asked.

“Many dangerous creatures,” Zuhura said. “Giant Scorpions. Blood Vultures. Hordes of Sand Lions and even the Great Manticores. The beasts stalk the dunes and mountains. It would be extremely dangerous if we encountered one.”

“So long as they aren’t magically resistant,” Anton said. “But you haven’t seen what we’re capable of. A magical beast doesn’t worry me.”

“It should,” Zuhura spoke softly. “They are very fast and dangerous.”

“Haven’t seen one in a very long time.” Temur shrugged as he led them through the sprawling tent. “A very long time. But they’re afraid of our Weevils. Something about them just drives them mad. Since we’ve started using them alongside our Camels we haven’t had any problems. Of course, the other things still attack us if they’re brave enough...Not to mention it does not affect humans.”

“Bandit tribes?” Anton asked.

“There are some.” Temur glumly nodded. “Some tribes just raid...Then pretend they didn’t steal or killed people when they run into the next tribe, even when we’ve seen.”

“One of those wouldn’t be you. Would it?”

“No.” Temur smiled. “But we have had to deal with them in the past. Not to mention Sana Vākara fanatics.”

“More religious freaks.” Cetina murmured.

Temur glanced at Cetina. “We don’t have many priests of The Holy Father, they tend to get run out of Frindal or simply killed, but I despise all of them. They twisted something that was simple and pure, to try and help people through difficult times, and into money and control…”

“No different from what I’ve seen so far,” Anton said softly. “But everyone should just try and live peacefully amongst each other.”

“That is what we try to do…” Temur smiled. “Ah. Here we are.”

The Tribal tents abruptly stopped. Large camels, larger than the ones from Earth, idled around the pens, long leashes tied to bone poles rammed deep into the ground as they munched on orange leaves. They barely acknowledged anyone’s presence, only when they got to close and threatened to spit at the Nomads. Judging by the orange stains on those nearby the Camels had impressive aim.

“Do we sit on them?” Calo asked.

“I...I don’t think they’re going to let us.” Axia chuckled nervously. “Looks like they’re going just going to spit on us.” Axia raised her arm. “I kind of like this cloth.”

“They’re fine.” Temur laughed. “Just a little temperamental if they don’t know who you are.”

Despite his assurances, Temur refused to get close to the Camels. They, in turn, watched him as they munched on the orange leaves and lapped at the water sitting in a giant trough.

“But these camels mainly carry our luggage, stuff that cannot fit on our Sleds.” Temur continued walking towards the south. “The Weevils are just over there.”

A large series of tents obscured their view further. Anton even saw several Nomad soldiers, these too wielded bone and iron weapons, patrolling near the tents. When they saw Temur they straightened their backs. He gave them a nod as they passed by, only a glance was spared for Anton has his companions.

“Here they are,” Temur announced. “Beautiful beasts, aren’t they?”

Before Anton could respond four hands grabbed him. Calo, Sheso, Mezot and Axia held any part of him they could find.

The Weevils were exactly that. Giant Weevils. Easily twenty meters tall, even when they were lying down in the sand. Their compound eyes were larger than they were, Anton could see the individual honeycombed sections, but they were covered in a light dusting of sand and dust. A young Nomad woman emerged from on top of the Weevil and gingerly stepped along its back. The creature’s long head moved back and forth slightly but did not try to rise. The young woman stood between his eyes and poured a large bucket of water of its eyes. A pleasing sound emanated from the Weevil’s small mouth, it rocked back and forth and shook the water and sand from its eyes.

“The Weevils can’t stop the sand from getting into its eyes,” Temur explained when he saw them all looking. “When we’re travelling we place these large pieces of cloth over their eyes.”

Temur pointed to large sheets of pale brown cloth resting near the tents. They looked remarkably similar to the face veils the Frindals and Zuhura wore, except truly massive in size.

As the Nomad woman walked back along the Weevils back Anton saw the Sled. He understood immediately why the Weevils were so large. The Sled was considerably larger than even the weevil, with a wide base to allow it to slide over the sand without sinking in and minimising drag as much as possible. On top lay a series of tightly stacked buildings, which looked mainly to be storage rather than habitation.

“So you set up camp each night?” Anton asked.

“It’s a lot easier on the Weevils than all of us trying to climb on.” Temur smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s more than just one. I believe we have forty-”

“Forty?” Anton coughed. “How do you feed so many of these...gigantic beasts?”

“They eat surprisingly little.” Temur shrugged. “A lot less than the camels even. No one really has any idea why.”

Maybe they’re the reason why the mana in this place is so messed up. They’re absorbing it in place of food. An interesting thought, but there’s no way for me to find out without causing a scene.

“So where will we be?” Anton asked.

“You’ll travel with me, in my sledge.” Temur pointed to a Weevil in the distance. “It’s the least that I can do for what you’ve done for my son. You can rest and relax, unless we get into some kind of battle. Then…” Temur winced slightly. “Then I ask for your help in defeating them.”

“Of course.” Anton smiled. “We wouldn’t be able to make it through the desert without you. But does your home have some privacy? There is something that I need to do before your tribe starts to leave tonight. I presume that we aren’t going to be needed to help with that?”

“Of course not.” Temur smiled as he looked between the women behind him. “I’ll give you the highest room. It’s quite high up so no one will hear anything.”

Anton glanced back. “I guess that’s one way you could put it.”

All the women grew a little nervous, even Axia and even Zuhura. She had been given into Anton’s service, but he didn’t think it extended that far.

A servant that would go that far...I’m sure Verona would say something right now.

---[]---

“This is really high.” Axia lent over the railing of the highest building on the sled. “So high. Do you think they use this as some kind of fortress? When they’re under attack?”

Anton studied the position. It was indeed quite high, far higher than the slumbering Weevils, but there were not many defensive positions. The railings were open, only designed to prevent someone from falling. That being said it did offer an unprecedented vantage point. Though there were no levels above them there was a ladder to the roof where a small post rose even higher, simple steps had been built to a type of crow’s nest on the top.

“That makes more sense.” Anton pointed to the mast.

“I want to head up there.” Sheso pointed to the top of the crow's nest. “We Dar…” She looked at Zuhura. “We can see very far from up there. And I think we can see further than most.”

“Will the Nomads have an issue with a woman being so high?” Anton asked Zuhura.

Zuhura shook her head. “No. There shouldn’t be an issue.” Zuhura smiled beneath her veil. “And they already know you are strange people.”

“Alright.” Anton patted their heads. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything that would make me upset. Understood?”

The twins gave a rough salute and darted past him to quickly clamber up the ladder. Their new clothes did not impede them in any way, years of working in their normal loose clothing. Zuhura watched them with curiosity.

“What were they about to say?” She asked softly. “It wasn’t that they wanted to climb the tower.”

Anton heard the soft footsteps of the Dark Elf twins as they began to climb. He heard the argue amongst themselves but not what they were saying exactly.

“They…”

No. I can’t just ask how Zuhura feels about the Dark Elves. The answer would be obvious…

“Let’s head inside first.” Anton opened the door.

Zuhura coughed lightly but followed them inside. The interior was rather cramped, space was clearly at a premium, even for a Sled belonging entirely to an Elder, with small and narrow beds resting right next to one another. There were no dividers to block sight and one would have to crawl along the bed to properly lie down. Regardless, it was enough to get some good sleep, with small wardrobes to tightly pack clothes and other valuables.

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” Anton mused. “Most of the Nomads probably only come inside to sleep, so they don’t need to be as spacious as normal homes.”

“There’s another room back here.” Cetina walked through to the far side. “Maybe we can put the stones there.”

She opened the door, revealing an empty room.

“Maybe it’s somewhere to change?” Axia offered. “So you don’t have to strip in front of everyone.”

“It…” Zuhura seemed strangely rattled. “It appears to be.”

“I’ll check that it works.” Cetina returned and squeezed Anton’s hand. “See you in a bit.”

Cetina closed the door. Anton saw the white light beginning to seep underneath the door. Zuhura frowned at Anton, she wanted to ask but was not willing to speak first.

“Zuhura? Can you keep a secret? You will find out sooner rather than later, and it’s probably for the best that you hear it from us.”

Zuhura’s body tensed but she still waited patiently.

I honestly hope you don’t think we’re about to do something horrible to you.

“But...But it might be easier if I just have them show it to you.”

Anton moved to the door, Zuhura stepped one step back and eyed Anton carefully. Anton said nothing, pretending that he had seen nothing amiss, and stepped outside. He climbed up the ladder and saw Calo and Sheso on the very top of the mast, peering out into the vast deserts like sailors searching for new land. Anton called out and the two hurried down. Again their new clothes did not impede them in any way. He motioned for them to come down to their room. Inside Zuhura was speaking with Mezot and Axia, both of the Graterians looked a little nervous by what Zuhura was asking. The moment Anton stepped inside Zuhura clamped her mouth shut. Mezot looked slightly bemused, Axia threw Anton a worried look.

“It’s nothing too serious,” Anton said. He closed the door after the twins. “So don’t panic. It’s probably best if you two just show her.”

Calo tapped her helmet. “You mean…”

“Yes. We’re going to be travelling together for some time. And an accident will more than likely happen over the next couple of days, especially when we’re all sleeping in the same room.”

“If you say so.” Calo looked at her sister and shrugged.

Zuhura watched in silence as the twins removed their headscarves, their helmets and finally the cloth wrapping covering their ears. The long, brown ears sprung free. As the twins massaged their stiff ears Zuhura’s brows furrowed lightly. She looked towards the port and her body relaxed.

“I...I understand.”

“We didn’t know how Frindal would treat Dark Elves.” Anton held the twins' shoulders. “So we wanted to play it safe. They can easily pass as Seocurians, albeit their skin is a little light, but most people, both Frindals and Nomads, haven’t seen many. Worse case they’ll think they’re the result of a Graterian and a Seocurian.”

“I understand.” Zuhura bowed her head. “My apologies. I...Was fearing the worse.”

I’m not even going to ask what you were thinking.

“But I ask that you do not tell anyone-”

“The presence of a Dark Elf, or Elves, should not be an issue for the Nomads.” Zuhura smiled at the twins. “The Dark Elves ships cannot raid the desert, after all.”

Calo and Sheso pulled odd faces. It was more than likely that the stolen Frindal goods they found in The Shadow Isles actually came from Frindal, and not an unlucky Qaiviel or Bebbezzarian merchant.

“True…” Sheso scratched her ear. “But I don’t think the Frindals will be happy to see us.”

“So you can understand our concerns.” Anton patted the twins’ shoulders. “So I ask that you don’t say anything.”

“Of course.” Zuhura bowed her head. “I was becoming rather concerned.”

“Why?” Axia removed her headscarf and let it fall around her shoulders. “What did you think was about to happen to you?”

Zuhura tried to keep her face flat but Anton saw a faint redness to her cheeks.

“Really?” Anton folded his arms and raised his brow. “Do you think-”

The door opened and Cetina stepped through. She had removed her headscarf as well, a hand vigorously rubbed her temples.

“The portal still works. Just as bad as before but it...What happened?”

“Zuhura knows that Calo and Sheso are Dark Elves,” Mezot said flatly.

Cetina blinked at Mezot before a smile crept over her face. “Well, okay then. I dropped off all of our equipment on the other side.” Cetina raised her hands. “They were wondering why I was dressed like this.”

Anton chuckled. “I bet. Anything about the Hamtaro’s?”

“Nothing. But nothing bad either.” Cetina shrugged. “So I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“I want to head back and speak with Midas,” Anton said. “But someone-”

“Go back?” Zuhura frowned at Cetina. “Where exactly did you go?”

“That’s a little difficult to explain,” Anton said. “Just like the twins, it’s easier just to show you. The Hamtaro’s aren’t on The Snowberry anymore.”

Zuhura began to grow worried.

“We didn’t throw them overboard.” Anton smiled nervously. “If that’s what you’re thinking. Right now they are safe in Atros.”

“I have never heard of a city called Atros. Every part of the coast to the east of Khoradeh is covered by sheer cliffs, easily three or four hundred feet tall. Nothing can climb them...There are some birds but no cities...At least human cities.”

I suppose I could take the Chiroks and fly that way. That would be interesting, but it might just scare the Beast-kin to see us rolling on up in our normal armour. Not to mention we have no idea if anything is flying in the skies around here. There are Blood Vultures…

“Not there. Somewhere far away.” Anton frowned at Zuhura’s clothes. “Those clothes might actually work. How do they deal with the cold?”

“This style of dress works very well in both hot and cold conditions,” Zuhura said softly. “Is it in the mountains?”

“Somewhere far colder,” Anton said. “But you should be fine. If you wish to come with us. If you do not then it is perfectly fine.”

“I...Do not know.” Zuhura frowned. “I....Am not given much choice in what I do. Sultan Hazm transferred my service from him to you-”

“Go on.” Axia smiled. “Just have a look. You’ll be surprised by what you find there. We did, didn’t we, mother?”

Mezot nodded very intently.

“I...I will go.”

“We’ll stay here.” Calo began to wrap her ears in cloth. “It would be too suspicious if all of us left.”

“If they ask we’ll just say you’re having some fun.” Sheso winked, keeping her face deliberately flat. “Temur already thinks that’s what’s about to happen.”

“Mother and I will stay here too.” Axia looked up at Mezot. “You were talking about practising magic in this place. Right?”

“Yes!” Mezot seemed very happy. “I wish to try some experiments, to determine just how reduced our mana is. It will take some time…”

Mezot looked for something but couldn’t find it. She nearly dropped the staff from her hand and reached for one of Anton’s bags. He decided to play the game as he produced item after item, each time Mezot shook her head. She made a delighted noise when he produced the map. She snatched it from his hands and rolled it out.

“As we travel across the desert I can check how much our mana is being suppressed.” Mezot pointed to Khoradeh. “I’m sure it would be valuable information for the Graterious…” Her shoulders dropped. “Right. We can’t go back.”

Anton turned to Zuhura. “The story about us being from Graterious is a partial lie. Mezot is a Master of the Royal Academy, but we’ve had to flee for their safety.”

“I see…”

“That’s still a good idea, Mezot.” Anton patted her head, albeit still covered with her light blue headscarf. “Can I trust you to handle that by yourself? I will probably be distracted by a number of other things and I don’t want to forget.”

“You can rely on me.” Mezot seemed unexpectedly enthusiastic about it. Then again it was related to magic, so it wasn’t that unexpected.

“Okay then.”

Cetina opened the door, the white shimmering disk cast a bright light against the dark wood. Zuhura glanced at the white disk, then to Anton in doubt.

“It’s not that bad,” Cetina said. “Just step onto the white disk and you’ll arrive in Atros.”

Zuhura hesitated to take the step. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Is it safe?”

“Perfectly,” Anton said. “It’s how we got here after all.”

Zuhura took another deep breath and stepped onto the portal. She disappeared in a flash of light.

“Do you think it’s alright for her to go to Atros?” Cetina asked. “She could be a spy from Hazm? Or the Nomad tribe she originally hails from.”

“It is a possibility. But I will use a truth prayer on her in Atros, see where her allegiance lies.”

“I see.”

“And if she’s not…” Anton sighed softly. “It will be much easier to get rid of her there, where there are fewer witnesses.”

“I…” Cetina frowned. “Isn’t that a little cruel?”

“Perhaps. But she would have eventually figured something out. She’s not completely stupid.”

“Just…” Cetina held his arm. “Don’t become-”

Cetina nodded once and stepped through the portal. Anton stopped just before he stepped through and looked at those that were remaining behind.

“We won’t be long.” Anton smiled. “If something really bad happens just run into the portal. We can always find another way back.”

They gave a final wave and silently bade him to go through. Anton took a final breath and stepped through.

Volume 05 - Chapter 51 - Scurrying Past

As Anton emerged from the portal he was greeted with the all too familiar sound of someone groaning in pain. For him the head ache associated with the portals was now a nuisance, except for Frindal and its increased severity, but for others it was quite the experience.

Zuhura stood a few paces away from the portal, both of her hands gripped the side of her head as she leant forward, furiously rubbing her temples in an attempt to dispel the pain. Two human Atros soldiers stood at her side. They were not trying to comfort her, only catch her should she fall.

“It gets easier each time you do it.” Anton said. He scrunched his eyes tight to force away the pain. “But I will grant you that Frindal is especially bad.”

“I’ve never felt something so awful.” Zuhura coughed and stood upright. “Never before...”

“Then you’re doing pretty well.” Cetina smiled. “If this is the worst thing you’ve experienced it means that you haven’t fought before, at least with your life on the line.”

“Combat is not for women...In Frindal or the Nomad Tribes.” Zuhura rubbed her eyes. “But it seems that things are different here.”

Behind the two guards near Zuhura stood another four Human guards. Two were women, though the only way to tell was by their face.

“Excuse me, Anton.” One of the guards at the wall spoke up. “But what are you wearing?”

“Ah. This?” Anton raised his arm. “This is Frindal...Rather Nomad Tribesmen dress. We couldn’t go through the desert with our usual clothes. Not unless we wanted to have everything polluted with sand and cooked alive inside our armour.”

Cetina smirked. “That’s certainly a good thing. I’m glad we didn’t find out the hard way.”

“...Right.” The guard pushed the door open slightly. “I’ve been told that Lady Verona and Lady Kal-”

He must be from Qaiviel.

“Have the...Umm...Rat people?”

“The Hamtaros.”

“The Hamtaros.” The man nodded. “Yes. They are in a small courtyard directly south. At least that’s what I’ve been told to tell you.”

“They’re a bit lightly dressed for the cold.” Anton held his chin. “Too small as well. I know that Verona and Kal will have brought them inside somewhere if it’s too much for them.”

“And...Her?” The guard pointed at Zuhura with his spear. His movement gave no hint of malice, but it could easily be with a simple instruction.

“She’s with us.” Anton moved towards the door. “She needs to know what it is we’re doing here. Otherwise she’d probably stumble in here. And then...What would you do then? If that happened, and we weren’t here?”

“We’d try and take her prisoner.” The guard planted the butt of his spear into the ground. “But if that wasn’t possible we’d have to attack. Those are your orders regarding the portals. Correct?”

“Indeed they are.” As Anton walked towards the door a different guard pushed it open. “But we’ve been lucky so far.”

“Come on, Zuhura.” Cetina gently held her shoulder and ushered her forward. “We really do need to get this done so we can head back.”

“Why is it so cold?” Zuhura pulled her brightly and immaculately woven shawl tighter around her neck. “It’s daylight and yet it’s like the middle of the night.”

“The deserts do get cold during the night.” Anton softly spoke. “But it gets even colder here.”

Zuhura did not appear to believe him, until she stepped outside. Snow gently floated down from a thick, cloudy sky. It had been snowing for a little while for a few inches lay on everything with a rough pathway carved by the few people walking along the road.

“W….” Zuhura stood stunned by the sight of so much white. “What is this?” She leant down and scooped up a fistful of snow. “It’s cold.”

“Snow,” Anton said calmly. “Frozen water that falls from the sky like, well, rain. I don’t know how often it rains in Frindal, but...”

Zuhura rubbed the wet snow between her fingers, watching the cold water run and soak into the cloth covering her fingers.

“Anton!” A voice called out. Rasha stood to the side of the doorway, leaning against the wall with her halberd in the crook of her arm. “They told me to wait for you, that you were coming back today. I thought you wouldn’t be coming back for a while.”

As Rasha’s legs were so much longer than his she quickly closed the gap. She stopped a foot from him and smiled warmly.

“Are you returning for the whole day...” Rasha finally noticed Zuhura, Zuhura was still transfixed by the concept of snow. She leant close to his ear. “Who’s she?”

Zuhura realised that she was acting a little oddly. She turned back to Anton and recoiled a step. Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear as she stared at Rasha.

“Hello.” Rasha waved weakly. “My name is Rasha.”

“You’re...” Zuhura blinked.

“Yes. I am a Beast-kin.” Rasha stood fully upright and slightly puffed out her chest. Zuhura’s hands drew close to her own chest as she realised just how tall and wide Rasha really was. “I’m one of Anton’s bodyguards. And Cetina is my boss.”

Cetina smiled as Zuhura’s concern transformed to a frown.

“I...” Zuhura checked along the snow covered road. Though there were not many travelling, there were Humans and Beast-kin walking together. “I see why Anton was so interested in the Hamtaro’s.”

Rasha laughed. “Anton does have an interest in the Beast-kin.” She patted his shoulder. “He cares for us regardless of what we are before he even knew us. No one else can say that.”

“Maybe now some others do.” Anton smiled. “But someone has to take the first step. It was either me or Verona. So...”

Rasha grimaced. “Definitely better that it’s you. Verona can be a bit...Overwhelming.” Rasha closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m just glad she doesn’t have as much energy as you do.”

Zuhura raised a black brow but did not ask what she meant.

“Speaking of Verona.” Anton clapped his hands. “Do you know where she is?”

Rasha pointed with her halberd towards the south. “She told me to wait here for you. I’ll show you the way.”

Rasha confidently strode through the snow next to Anton, Cetina and Zuhura fell in behind. Rasha spared a glance back, her eyes flicked between Zuhura and Cetina, before leaning down to Anton.

“Why are you all wearing those clothes?”

---[]---

Rasha led them to a secluded area, away from the main thoroughfares. The people that were working nearby were muttering to one another in hushed whispers. Even in a city as strange as Atros the Hamtaro’s would turn heads, hundreds of large clothed mice trudging through the snow was not an everyday sight. Zuhura had remained silent during their short journey. She walked silently and absorbed the sights of Atros. She watched the Humans and Beast-kin working and talking with each other like they weren’t different species, the few Dark Elves in their large black cloaks and the Dwarves, their stocky legs cleaving a path through the snow as they pointed to buildings and discussed the day’s work.

“There in…” Rasha stopped as they neared a partially secluded courtyard. “Oh. They must have gone inside." Rasha said softly. She brushed the snow from her shoulders. "Too cold for...Ah, there they are."\

Rasha pointed to a Beastkin guard waving them over. He was a Canine with a particularly thick brown coat, ideal for winter snows.

I wonder how he handled Seocuria? Probably spent most of his time by the coast, where it was cooler.

"How large is this city?" Zuhura asked. "It appears to be formed by concentric circles."

"Pretty big," Rasha replied. "Nowhere near as big as Danafra...I haven’t seen any other cities really, but it is the only place where Beastkin can be truly free."

Zuhura slowly nodded and continued to observe everything she could.

As they approached Anton could hear voices coming from inside the large building. They were muffled by the door but it was nothing short of a continuous drone. If the building contained all eight hundred Hamtaro’s then it would not be surprising.

The moment the guards opened the door Anton was struck by the amount of noise. Nearly every single Hamtaro was speaking, chittering really, to their neighbours. It was impossible to determine what they were saying as they spoke in the squeaks of their tongue. They squeaked louder as the cold wind followed Anton, pulled what little clothes they had tight and moved away from the door, glancing at him with their small brown eyes. Awe and respect filled their little faces, at least that’s what Anton felt it was. Midas had definitely spoken to them of what their new home was to be like.

“Over here!” Verona cried out. She stood at the far side of the room, surrounded by nervous and excitable Hamtaro’s. To her side stood Kal, Eider and her bodyguards and, surprisingly, Irso. The Hamtaro’s gave Irso a wide berth, as well as Eider but probably for two very different reasons.

I wonder if the Hamtaro’s have some kind of racial memory. Snakes eat mice, after all.

“Hello,” Anton spoke softly as he slowly entered. “Could you please move a little? I don’t want to stand on any of you.”

The Hamtaro’s obeyed and cleared a vague path. The moment they had passed it closed again. Anton found it very odd they behaved like water around a stone.

“What’s this then?” Verona mockingly joked. “You haven’t even left for a whole day and you’ve picked up...How many was it, Kal?”

“Eight hundred and twenty-two.” Kal smiled at Anton. “Including their leader.”

She motioned to Midas, standing proud on a stool beside them. Unlike the other Hamtaro’s he wore a full set of clothes, to his side lay his weapons and armour, neatly stacked.

“I’ve missed you too.” Anton pulled them both into a hug. He wanted to squeeze them tight, even though it had only been a few hours he didn’t like to be separated for long, but he was mindful of the babies growing in their bellies.

"It hasn't been a day and I'm already missing rubbing these bellies."

"Stop it." Kal gently swatted his hand away as she rolled her eyes, Verona did not and held Anton's hand on her stomach. "You are such...A strange man."

"Not that strange." Anton laughed.

Verona squeezed his hand. "You're going to have to tell us later why you're dressed like that. But, who is this?"

Verona nodded to Zuhura, silently standing behind Anton and studying the Beastkin. Anton still had no idea if the Feral’s were in any way similar but she continued to regard them with a near scientific fascination. Particular attention fell on Irso and her surprisingly human form. And her teeth.

I must ask if Zac's alright with them. Play biting might be a little too much.

Anton succinctly explained what had occurred, both regarding Zuhura and Midas. While most simply listened one in particular, one with silver hair, smiled inanely when she heard Zuhura was in Anton's service.

"I think-"

Anton and Kal clamped their hands over Verona's mouth. She did not resist nor bite them, only raising a silver brow.

"Fine," Verona grumbled after they removed their hands. "I'll behave myself." A sly smile crept over her lips. "For now at least."

"That will have to do." Anton smiled and squeezed her cheek. "Most behaved you've been in a while."

Verona stuck out her tongue.

"I've never heard of Beastkin like them before." Eider leant down so her eyes were level with Midas. "But they are certainly...Different to us."

"We were only created recently." Midas instinctively reached for a sword on his hip, which he currently lacked. He glanced back to his neat stack of weapons and stopped himself for reaching for the thin blade. "What does your kind eat?"

Eider tilted her head. "What most people eat? Meat, bread, vegetables and fruit. It is a little difficult with my teeth but..." Eider licked at the air. "Oh! No, I don't eat things whole like an actual snake. No. I'm a Cobra Beastkin."

Eider almost smiled. "I guess you could say I'm a little bit like you. My kind is new as well. Although all of the Lamias in Seocuria were killed to create us."

Midas did not reply, his small mouse mouth curled up in annoyance.

"Might as well get the next part over with." Anton loudly clapped his hands. "Everyone! Can I have your attention please?"

---[]---

The Hamtaro’s were exceedingly quiet while Anton spoke. He explained who they were and what they, as a city, wanted to do. As expected they were more than dubious of his claims but since Midas appeared to be going along with Anton's plans they readily agreed.

"You've successfully freed one type of Beastkin," Midas said softly. "But what will we be doing?" Midas looked to the group of elder Hamtaro’s. "We should all be contributing to...This. In our own ways."

"Certainly." Anton smiled. "But I do not wish to force you to do something that you simply cannot do. But...I think your smaller size will be an advantage we can use."

"Smaller?" Midas asked dryly. "Not just small?"

"I wanted to put it delicately," Anton said softly. Midas gently shook his head. "But it is true. You can move and crawl through spaces that we could never dream of. Not to mention your fingers are so much more delicate than ours. You could easily sift through things that we would be too clumsy to do properly."

"And what of our fur?" Midas scratched his neck and pulled out more than a few strands of hair. "We do shed a decent amount of fur."

Anton nodded to the Beastkin with fur. "We're used to it. It's not actually that bad, once you even realise it's there.”

Rasha and Kal shared a silent glance. They had limbs covered in thick fur, and Anton knew there was quite a bit left to bundle in and gather in oft-visited corners. It was hard to deny where dark aqua or blue fur came from.

“And defence?” Midas nodded to Irso. “The Drakeling says that your city, Atros, has been attacked before. It is likely that it will happen again.”

“It has.” Anton slowly nodded. “But we have come far since then. Nothing has breached the outer walls in some time, and we have some magical defences surrounding the city. Regardless, I ask that every Hamtaro learns how to defend themselves with basic weapons and armour. You won’t be fighting beyond the city walls unless you volunteer but everyone, and I mean everyone, must be able to fight. No one must cower when our cities existence is at stake.”

Midas blinked once at Anton. He leapt down from his chair and mingled amongst his kind. They chittered in their language but it quickly came apparent they would not be finished anytime soon.

“Zuhura?” Verona stepped forward. “Why are you still wearing your headscarf?”

She nodded to Anton and Cetina. “They’ve removed theirs…”

Anton gently patted Verona’s shoulder. “It’s up to her. Actually, I think the cloth is rather catching. You should see Mezot and Axia’s. They look really good. You might be able to use it as the lining of your feather cloaks.”

Verona made an impressed sound. She stepped around Anton and motioned for Zuhura to raise her hand. Zuhura said nothing as Verona ran the cloth between her fingers.

“This...This is really good.” Verona smiled. “I would like some of this.”

“It would not be expensive to buy.” Zuhura kept her eyes on Verona. “Helping Temur’s son would allow us to purchase as much material as you would like. Selling this cloth is one of the primary ways the Nomad Tribes earn money. Perhaps the most important product for their economy, especially since it is very expensive overseas.”

“I see…” Verona smiled at Anton. “Definitely buy as much as you can. This looks incredible. All the pretty colours you can find. But...Zuhura?”

“Yes?”

“We…” Verona glanced at Anton. “We aren’t in Frindal anymore. Is there a reason why you don’t want to? If there is then just tell me.” Verona smiled. “Anton says I'm not the most subtle woman.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Anton said softly.

Zuhura looked at Anton. “The Sana Vākaras are fanatical about order. And normally one would not remove it unless you were in your home, where the wind and sand would not find you. Only when you are surrounded by your close friends and family. But I believe that this place is safe…”

Zuhura loosened and pulled back her headscarf. Her dark brown hair was held tight in a bun at the back of her head by a series of golden strings and pins. Two small golden earrings hung from her ears, with a small white gem hanging beneath. Zuhura adjusted her headscarf so it rested around her neck as an actual scarf and scratched the nape of the neck.

“I don’t often remove it.” Zuhura inspected the edge, where some tiny frays had begun to emerge. “When I was in Sultan Hazm’s service I slept in the same room with the other servants. They did not remove theirs until they were about to go to bed.”

“How much sand?” Kal asked. She scrunched her eyes tight. “How much sand is there in Frindal?”

Zuhura smiled. “More than you can imagine.”

Kal scratched her fur covered forearms. “I suppose I wouldn’t like that much.”

“But…” Zuhura frowned. “I feel a little exposed right now.”

Verona fought back the urge to say something and merely smiled instead.

Zuhura’s frown faded. “Despite that it does feel nice to be able to remove it. Though I shall be wearing it again once I am outside. I am not used to such cold during the day.”

The chittering of the Hamtaro’s began to dim. Midas returned and quietly clambered back onto his stool.

“We will help you, Anton.” Midas folded his arms. “You helped us...When you, honestly, had no reason to. We shall repay the favour. So long as we are looked after in return.”

“I am very glad to hear that.” Anton looked to Eider. “Do we have somewhere for them to rest and gather their strength. And make sure they get as much food as they want. We won’t even start to speak of work until tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Eider smiled, much to Midas’s concern. “I mean, yes. We do.” She waved high until she had the Hamtaro’s attention. “If you would all follow me please, we have somewhere for you all to live. It’s only temporary accommodation but it will do for now.”

They looked to Midas who gave them a nod. Immediately their attitude changed and they followed Eider, her bodyguards and Irso. Irso received a wide berth from the mice, she was quite an intimidating person at the best of times, not from size, like Rasha, but from the anger and ferocity that bubbled away behind her face, ready to burst through at a moment’s notice.

“Midas.” Anton began. “I would like to speak with you and your Elders about something. Nothing serious, but I would like to have a few answers.”

Midas jumped down from the stools and quickly picked out the eldest of the Hamtaro’s, those that were lagging behind. Verona and Kal tapped his shoulder and pointed to the side of the building, a doorway to a secluded room. Anton moved to a side room with his immediate companions, Midas and the Elder Hamtaro’s. The others followed Eider towards the accommodation, though they would be running through the snow while everyone else walked.

“I want to know more about how you were created.” Anton took a seat. He offered one for the Hamtaro’s. Midas jumped onto the chair and then the table, the Elders did not even attempt the jump and remained standing on the floor. “We can get you something comfortable to sit on…”

Building little pieces of furniture might be a fun thing for us.

“Actually,” An Elder placed an arthritic hand on his behind. “It is rather difficult for me to keep standing.”

“Let me help you.”

Anton knelt before him and chanted a delayed healing prayer. Though it would take several days for him to be fully healed he had an immediate reaction. His hands looked less gnarled and creased. He smiled as Anton performed the same magic to the other Elders.

“So easy…” Midas folded his arms. “I’m surprised the Sultan did not try and keep you, to work for him. Your presence alone would grant him considerable wealth.”

“I have other magics.” Anton took his seat. Verona and Kal took a larger chair behind while Cetina and Rasha stood to his side. “Even in Frindal I could easily destroy a good portion of the city while setting the rest ablaze in an inferno. Then there’s Mezot and Axia. Mezot’s quite powerful herself. Axia’s not too bad either.”

Midas said nothing. He searched for something to sit on but decided on the table. Rasha offered to help the Elders up to the table, a few accepted but most decided just to sit on the floor with their backs to the wall.

“What can you tell me?” Anton asked again. “We didn’t get much of a chance to ask, since we were rather pressed for time.”

“None of us were alive when it happened.” One of the Elders, perhaps the oldest with the greyest fur and most stooped back began to speak. “We do not live as long as you humans, but I do remember my father telling me what happened.”

"It was a Sorcerer, at least that's what he told me." The Elder shifted his rear. "A useless one at that. He had no skill or knowledge, just combining things to see what happened, in the most gruesome ways imaginable."

"Less of a mad sorcerer and just mad." Anton mused. "Anyone can just put things together and see what happens."

The Elder nodded. "My father remembered his life before he was transformed, before he became one of us. He was a young Frindal boy, stolen from his family." The Elder frowned his small mouse brows. "Or he could have been sold. He was very young, as he himself told me, so he could have misremembered. But he was taken somewhere underground, somewhere near the coast he said, and that's where he was made into...This."

"Did he recall how it actually happened?"

The Elder shrugged lightly. "They were taken one by one into a special room, strapped down to a metal table and had strange blue and yellow liquid put into them."

I doubt that's the meteorite metal Ikel used, nor does it sound like it has anything to do with that portal.

"That's...Not really all that much to go on." Anton said.

"Was there anything odd about those chemicals?" Kal asked. "Did they have a particular odour, the container they were in? Anything about the room?"

The Elder's eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "There is something he said. There was an insignia in one of the containers the blue liquid came from. I don't know about the yellow...Do you have something I can draw on? It'll be easier to show you."

Cetina left the room and returned with a scrappy piece of paper and a wrapped piece of charcoal. The Elder graciously accepted it and began to draw. He asked two of the Elders to hold the edges as he required both hands to properly draw. Everyone watched in silence, but Anton's heart began to drop when he saw the symbol even partially completed. The insignia was not of the Frindal Emirate nor any currently existing group. It was rather simple, a sword resting vertically on top of a shield. The United Empire.

"Is this what he saw?" Anton tapped the paper. "Are you sure of it?"

"You recognize this?" Midas asked.

"I do." Anton leant back and looked at Cetina. "The United Empire. Their insignia."

"It is, isn't it?"

Rasha leant forward. "Looks just like the stuff they found in that vault. On those pieces of paper money."

"It wasn't Frindal but this United Empire?" Midas took a calming breath. "Where are they? Are you at war with them?"

"The United Empire had been gone for hundreds of winters," Verona said softly. "Hundreds upon hundreds. Not even our Dwarves were alive when they were."

"Your sorcerer must have found a cache of research supplies." Anton began. "Probably research into how the Beastkin were created."

"They were created from that portal," Verona said softly. "Not some brightly coloured goop."

Rasha tapped her hoof as she looked at Verona, raising a red brow. She did not yet know how the Beastkin were created.

"So..." Midas looked at the Elders. "We're the result of some long-dead Empire's meddling?"

"Yes," Anton said flatly. "But it was that sorcerer who injected it into your parents. Do you know his name? If he's still alive we might be able to track him down and have a nice talk."

"No one knows his name." The Elder clicked his tongue. "No one had any names, not even those that helped him."

"That old man in Frindal seemed to know who it was." Cetina tapped Anton's shoulder. "We could return to the Arena and find out more."

"He will probably be gone by now. He wanted to see Midas fall so the last of the Hamtaro’s would be killed, since most of you aren't good fighters... But we'll see if we have time."

Anton looked behind Rasha to Zuhura, standing near the door in complete silence.

If you are going to inform on us...Let’s just hope you aren't.

"Zuhura, how much longer before the Nomads leave?"

"It should not be much longer," Zuhura spoke calmly, like she was not in an alien city. "Soon the sun will begin to set but they will not wait for that before they begin to disassemble the camp. If they do not they will not be able to travel far."

Kal held his arm. "You not being there isn't going to be a problem?"

"Shouldn't." Anton squeezed hers back. "We're honoured guests of one of the Elders, the Nomad Tribal Elders, not...Anyway, we'd probably get in the way even if we tried to help."

Zuhura nodded. "The tents and awnings need to be packed in a very specific order and manner. It is second nature for a Nomad but to an outsider..." Zuhura's lips twitched. "You would likely just be a nuisance and erode some of the good will earned from Anton healing that boy."

"That gives us some extra time then." Anton said. He slowly rubbed his beard. “But, speaking of boys, how often can your kind reproduce?”

Midas frowned. “Why...Why do you wish to know?”

“I’ll be frank. I am concerned that you might overpopulate, having dozens of children each time and putting a strain on our city and economy. I want the Hamtaro’s to thrive, but not so much that it becomes an issue.”

The oldest Elder raised his hand. “We understand. While we were held by the Frindal’s they made sure we did not have many children, by feeding us this plant...I don’t know what it was, but the women could not get pregnant.”

Midas almost looked embarrassed and looked away. Anton did not expect someone who fought for his very life every day to be embarrassed by such talk.

Then again, if you were only fighting and training, you wouldn’t have much time for any sort of intimacy. Perhaps he’s not used to intimacy being spoken about in such clinical terms.

“I do not mean that you cannot exceed your current numbers. Far from it. But I don’t want there to be tens of thousands of Hamtaro’s before summer.”

The Elder smiled again. “It will be an interesting talk but it is one we will have. And they will help Atros. It only takes them two winters before they become adults.”

“This...How long do Hamtaro’s live for?” Anton asked.

“I am thirty-two winters old.” The Elder said. “And I am the oldest. Compared to humans and the other races our lives must seem very short.”

“Midas?”

“Eight.” Midas ran a hand through his whiskers. “At least that’s what I think I am. It doesn’t really matter to me how old I am.”

“You should have already found a nice partner by now.” One of the Elder females said snidely to Midas. “It’s been too long-”

“I have been fighting every day so our kind doesn’t get eradicated,” Midas spoke harshly but something about his face that spoke more of embarrassment than anger. “I haven’t had the strength or time to speak with...Anyway, really.”

“Well, now you’ll have time.” Anton smiled.

“...I don’t know.”

“You’ll be fine.” Verona patted his head. Midas’s eyes narrowed as he swatted her hands away. “You’re the saviour of your entire race. You might not have noticed but a lot of women were looking at you.”

“Really…”

“Yep.” Verona smiled. “And most women aren’t that bad. Sometimes you just need to grab them and tell them how you feel.”

Kal and Anton shared a look. Verona deliberately didn’t notice and continued to smile until Midas began to nod.

“Perhaps...But I am a fighter first.”

“If the others become half as good as you then we have nothing to fear. You took down an Ogre by yourself.”

“Only after they fought each other.” Midas shrugged. “It was the only way I could have won.”

“I would like to see how you fight,” Rasha said. “You have a little sword but look like you’re really nimble.”

Midas smirked. “I am nimble. And I could probably take on most of your Human and Beast-kin soldiers and win.”

“Perhaps a demonstration then.” Anton offered. “Since we have a little time to ourselves. Elders, do you think any of the remaining Hamtaro’s are capable of fighting? I understand that many were forced to fight...Only Midas made it through.”

Midas cast his head down and began to mutter under his breath.

“Perhaps there might be some.” The Elders shared a look. “But they would be women, children and the elderly that can still move properly...Everyone else...”

“If they’re willing it might be a good idea just to start something. Even if it’s just swinging a sword and doing some laps.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want them doing anything today,” Kal said, Cetina slowly nodded.

“Only if they want to. Conveying that without it sounding like it’s a threat or an order can be difficult.” Anton frowned. “Especially if it’s someone like me.”

“Not something that I have to worry about.” Midas hopped down from the table. “I think I’ll try and find…Where did the others go?”

“They’ll be back shortly,” Rasha said. “It’s not safe for someone as small as you to be out in the snow. You’ll freeze very quickly.”

“I’d only heard of this snow.” Midas folded his arms and looked towards the entrance. “Never thought I’d actually see it.”

“Perhaps it is for the best that you all just get some rest.” Anton smiled. “One day isn’t going to hurt you. Far from it. Probably the first proper night’s sleep you’ve had in some time.”

“That...That it will be.” Midas slowly shook his head, holding back a smile. “That it will.”

“If you and the Elders want to wait in the other room we’ll have you sent to your new homes shortly.” Anton gave Rasha a quick nod. “There’s still one more thing that we need to do.”

Midas turned his small, brown eyes to Zuhura. He had some inkling of what the potential problem might be but chose to stay silent. It wasn’t his problem.

Anton waited until the Elders and Midas had left, Rasha offered them a thick blanket to wrap themselves. Now that everyone had left the room wouldn’t be so warm and their small bodies might not handle the cold so well.

“Zuhura?” Anton placed his hand on the drawing. “I think you can understand why word of this place cannot reach the outside world. Especially Seocuria. Right now they are not looking for us but very soon they will be. And every scrap of information, every potential rumour will be investigated. No matter how obscure.”

Zuhura tensed. Her lips pulled back but she held her ground.

“I understand.” Zuhura took a short breath, her nostrils flared slightly. “I will not speak a word of what happened here.”

“Not now, no.” Anton stood up. “But after we’re done in Frindal, with the Feral Beast-kin, I will do as Hazm said and release you from my service. Essentially I’ll let you do whatever you want. But that would mean that there’s someone with knowledge of this place that I don’t know if I can trust.”

Zuhura said nothing. Anton wasn’t sure if she was trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t see her immediately killed or imprisoned in Atros.

“I think you’re scaring her,” Verona said softly.

“Thankfully, I have a way to determine if you will.” As Anton approached Zuhura pulled her arms close to her body. He knew she had a blade on her somewhere. “Nothing too serious. Just a bit of magic.”

Anton reached out and touched her shoulder with one finger and chanted a truth prayer.

“What is that?” Zuhura asked. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Not yet. But, is your name Zuhura?”

“Yes.” Zuhura frowned. The prayer compelled everyone to tell the truth, even if it was something one would give freely.

“Would you tell anyone of what you saw here today?”

“No.” Zuhura frowned once again.

“Is there anything that could change your mind?

“Yes.” Zuhura winced. “If...If I was without money and someone offered it. I think I would.”

“That’s understandable.” Anton softly said. “Now, if you were to stay in Frindal and paid a stipend would you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“I think that settles it.” Anton removed his hand and smiled. “I don’t think that anyone would believe you anyway. A city with Beast-kin and Humans living side by side?”

“It…” Zuhura glanced between Verona and Kal. “It is.”

“I had a good feeling about you.” Verona skipped happily to Zuhura’s side. “I don’t think you’re a bad person. Now, you are from Frindal. Correct?”

Zuhura nodded. “Yes. But I am actually from one of the southern Nomad Tribes. They are related to the Costal Frindal’s but I am not one of them.”

“Oh...But do you know how to use their spices? What each one is and what they go best with?”

“All women from Frindal and the Nomad Tribes must know how to cook before they become an adult.”

Verona’s smile widened. “Well then, you’re going to be coming with us for a little bit. For you see, while Anton was speaking with that Hazm man, Kal and I sent one of Wilford’s sailors into the market to gather some spices.”

“Okay…”

Kal smirked and shook her head. “Always food.”

“Always.” Anton quietly added.

“Ignore them.” Verona dismissively waved her hand. “But I need someone to tell me what is what. Otherwise, I’ll be wasting them.”

“Well...I don’t think that’s a problem.”

“Great.” Verona gently held Zuhura’s elbow. “Can I borrow her for a moment?”

“I guess? But, remember that we’ve only met today. So please don’t go too wild. You understand me?”

“I understand.” Verona winked at Anton, then smiled at Zuhura. “Don’t worry about Anton, I only want you to tell me what we’ve bought and what goes best with what. Oh, and what types of cloth material you have to sell. I want to know everything!”

Zuhura did not budge from Verona’s tugs and held her ground.

“Zuhura? If you would please come with us I would like to have your opinion on what spices go with what food.”

“If that is what you wish.” Zuhura refastened her headscarf. The moment it was back on she appeared a little calmer. “I am in your service until you establish friendly relations with the Lamia’s of the Feral Beast-kin.”

“Great.” Verona lightly pulled on her sleeve again. “It won’t take long, I promise you.”

Zuhura finally relented and allowed Verona to drag her along. Anton doubted Verona would actually take Zuhura anywhere against her will but she was a bit forceful, which was needed sometimes but this was not such a time.

“Is she really trustworthy?” Kal asked softly.

“So far she’s been trustworthy.” Anton flexed his hand with the Glyph marks. “And she did not resist the truth prayer, not that she really could. But we need her to help guide us through the lands and the numerous Nomad Tribes. I think we could manage it by ourselves but we might just make a few enemies on the way. Not to mention I don’t think she can really go back.”

“No?” Rasha asked.

“She’s part of a peace deal between the Frindal’s and one of the Nomad Tribes...But Hazm, one of the Sultan’s, is trying to act magnanimously by using us.” Anton shrugged. “But I don’t care. It doesn’t affect us. But there is one thing that I still want to check.”

Anton entered the next room. The remaining Hamtaro’s waited by the door, nestled tight in the thick cloth, while Verona and Zuhura chatted idly. Verona’s incessant questions and words had relaxed her a little, this wasn’t the Sultan’s residence, everything was far more relaxed and personal.

“We ready to go?” Verona asked. “We don’t know where the Hamtaro’s have to go, and I don’t think we should just be wandering the snows with them in our arms.”

“In a moment. I’ve just thought of something.” Anton looked at Zuhura. “Another question.”

“I have nothing to hide,” Zuhura said calmly.

Anton touched her shoulder again. “Are you the daughter of the Elders of Nomad Tribe that Hazm has an agreement with?”

“Yes.”

“I see…” Anton removed his hand. “For a moment I thought that both of you had tricked each other. I wouldn’t have been too surprised if you had.”

Zuhura smiled. “Hazm has asked me before. I told him the truth but he wasn’t sure.”

“Are you done?” Midas asked. “I wish to find somewhere to sleep and recover.” He flexed his hands. “I wonder what it’s going to feel like tomorrow, knowing that I don’t have to fight.”

“You’ll feel like you’ve never felt before.” Kal smiled at Midas. “No more running, hiding, wondering what’s about to happen to you...You might be a little scared at first, but it gets much easier very quickly.”

Midas slowly nodded. “Very well. Let’s get going then. If you have time, before you return to the lands of sand, I would like to see this city you have in its entirety. I believe that might be able to point out areas that we can help with the defence of your city.”

“I like your enthusiasm.” Anton smiled. “I know an attacker would be quite surprised to see a large mouse stabbing them in the ankles.”

Midas shook his head, the Elders smiled. Obviously, it was something that had crossed their minds before.

Volume 05 - Chapter 52 - (Interlude) - Sally Settling

Sally groggily rose from a deep yet troubled sleep. The room was not her own, not her cramped room of Soulthor, nor the high tower of Surdon that had become her prison. It was a simple and sparsely furnished room, with little more than a bed and a table and chair.

“I...I escaped.” Sally groggily looked around the room. “I wonder what happened to that painting?”

Sally shook her head. She knew that it was a stupid thing to be worried about, a painting stolen from a dead kingdom, but for some reason she still worried about it.

“Atros...I made it.” Sally pulled the fur covers closer to her neck to fight off the cold. “I actually made it…”

Her blood began to run cold, far colder than the snow laden air drifting through the small wooden slat window.

“What am I doing?” Sally felt tears stream down her face. “What...What am I doing?!”

She gripped the covers so tight that her fingers turned white.

“I’m just one person...What else could I have done?”

I killed Mihal…

Sally dried her face with the fur blanket and threw them away. Immediately she began to shiver, her body reflexively tried to curl up but she held her body rigid. Compared to the cold she had endured during her flight from Surdon. She had become so cold that she couldn’t feel any part of her body and her mind turned to sludge. Only her horse, which suffered just as bad as her, guided to Atros out of some unknowable sense of direction and had brought her to safety. She shuddered to merely begin imagining what fate Ghenadie and the other Cultists would have unleashed upon her.

“I hope that you can forgive me.” Sally murmured. “I didn’t hate you…”

Sally sighed and slowly crawled out of the bed. The clothes she wore were surprisingly good quality, better than anything she had in Soulthor, but were clearly second hand. Atros, despite the Cultists peaking about it like it was the final obstacle before victory, was quite poor. Nowhere near as poor as Soulthor but nowhere near as grand as she had envisioned it to be. Nevertheless, it was safe. And safe would have to do.

The clothes scratched against her skin. She was certain that her fingers had all but frozen during the long ride north, along with the rest of her body, but she was completely fine. She took the mild discomfort as a sign that she was still alive. Once properly dressed and as protected against the cold as best she could she slowly walked to the wooden door. Part of her wanted to spend the rest of her life near the fire, as if it would wash away the cold that she had experienced but a day ago, but she knew she could not stay inside forever. At the very least she needed to get something to eat.

Sally took a deep breath and hesitated to open the door. It wasn’t the cold that gave her pause, after riding through the snowy night she doubted the cold could ever frighten her again, but the people outside. Specifically the Beast-kin, the strange humanoids that she had been told were horrific monsters. She remembered the Cobra Beast-kin, as she was called, offering her food and warmth. Surely they couldn’t all be bad?

“That snake lady was nice...But a little scary though.”

Sally grunted and opened the door. A wave of snowy air poured in through the gap. Despite Atros being in the same land as Surdon it appeared the winter was somehow a little worse here, at least in terms of wind. It whipped around and buffeted her face, throwing her hair in all directions. She retreated into the safety of her room and found something that could be used like a scarf. When it was safely secured to her head she attempted to leave again. The wind continued to blow her head about but it wasn’t as bad as before. Like everything she was going through, almost as bad was miles better than what it could be.

“They...The snake lady told me they were going to put me through some sort of test.” Sally pulled the thick woollen cloak tight around her body. “But...Where was it?”

Atros was far, far larger than Soulthor, and in Surdon she had a guide, of sorts. Here was comopletely new to her. She didn’t understand the layout of the city but she guessed it was formed by expanding rings, for whatever reason. A pair of Atros guards walked past, one a human, the other a Beast-kin that looked strikingly similar to a lizard. He, or it could have been a she, were clearly struggling with the cold. They had a multiple layers of clothes already but the cold was beating them.

“I told you, you should have just stayed inside.” The human guard said to his companion, speaking slightly louder than normal to compensate for the howl of the wind.

“I’m fine.” Sally still didn’t know if it was a man or a woman. “Once I get moving I’ll feel better.”

Sally body lurched forward. They were the only people in the street and were moving away fast.

“Excuse me!” Sally yelled. Both guards immediately stopped and turned towards her. For a moment she feared that she was about to be attacked, both held their spears tight, but she relaxed as they did. “I...I need some help.”

“Are you the one that rode into Atros the other day?” The reptile asked. Sally was certain it was a woman, what passed for a woman as a reptile Beast-kin.

“Yes...” Sally felt a shiver run down her spine, not one caused by the cold. “They told me that I had to go for some sort of test in the morning. But I don’t know what or where. I...I was very tired and not listening.”

“Not surprising.” The Human guard rested his spear on his shoulder. “I saw you when you came in. You were completely frozen. Everyone thought you were dead. You probably would have, if it wasn’t for Lord Anton.”

The Reptile jabbed his leg with the butt of her spear. “You know that he isn’t a Lord. They’ve said it more than enough times.”

The human guard shrugged. “I come from Qaiviel. And anyone that rules a city is a lord, at least that’s what I was taught.”

“Right...” The Reptile clicked her tongue. “I believe they’re speaking about a test to determine how much mana you have in you. Everyone undergoes it, so they know who should be taught to be a Principle Mage.”

“I’m annoyed that I didn’t have any.” The Human guard laughed. “I wish I could do what they could. Fire and lightning. Healing...Or whatever it is Anton does. Oh. And those blonde Graterian women. Ice and Fire. Goes quite well together, no?”

The Reptile Beast-kin lightly sighed. “I don’t have any either. But maybe you’ll be lucky.”

“Would it be a good thing?” Sally asked. Never once had she given any thought about being a mage, apart from her fantasies when she was younger. Living in Soulthor, there was no way that a wandering mage would come to them. But that was exactly what happened, only a few days before their lives were destroyed.

“Absolutely.” The Human guard smiled warmly. “I arrived here relatively early, but there was a time that Anton and his...Women, weren’t here. And a whole bunch of those Goblins attacked. Almost a thousand of them, I was told.”

Sally tensed but the man tried to placate her.

“No one died. Not one. All because of two other mages. Two of our smiths. Shawn and Jocelyn. They have the same magic that Anton does, sort of. Not all of it. Anyway, they killed dozens with each blast of magic. I mean, Anton and the first Beast-kin arrived soon after, but we would have made it even if they didn’t. And all because of two people. Two. I wouldn’t believe-”

“Are you done?” The Reptile’s lips curled up in what Sally thought was a mocking smile. “The longer you talk the colder I’m getting.”

“Fine.” The Human guard gently swatted her back with his spear. “We’ll take you to the Magical Academy. Someone will be there to tell you what to do. If not, well, it looks like you have the day off. That’s always a good thing.”

The two began walking along the snow covered streets, already bickering about something and seemingly forgetting to make sure that Sally was following. She gave chase and followed them. As they walked she noticed the tail of the Reptile Beast-kin. It was quite thick but short, but it always swayed back and forth when he was speaking. Every so often they would bump into each other and their touch would linger more than necessary.

Can...Can people and Beast-kin fall in love? Is that possible?

Sally had no idea but knew better than to ask. If they weren’t a couple, or on the verge, it might ruin whatever was happening. But, most importantly, it didn’t matter to her either way.

---[]---

Sally arrived at the Magical Academy, such as it was. She had never seen one of the near mystical Academies of Graterious but she knew that this was nothing like them. This was nothing more than a collection of chairs in a converted garden. A large smooth stone hanged on the wall the chairs face, above a thick and strong cloth material stopped the heavy snow falling down upon the chairs, instead raining down along the perimeter.

“This...This is the Atros Magical Academy?”

Sally knew the walls of Atros and its people were strong, the guards were numerous and all wore thick armour and wielded good weapons, but this was a serious disappointment.

How are they supposed to deal with all those Goblins the Ancient Listeners are going to throw at them? They’ve got metal armour...And there are so many of them compared to Atros…

“Sorry.” A voice called out from the far side, before the stone slab. “But Mezot isn’t here right now. She’s the Principle Mage that would be teaching us or conducting any tests. And her daughter isn’t here either...So there’s really no one here. None of us know how to use Principle Magic yet. Not...Properly.”

The voice belonged to a woman sitting behind a large table. For a moment Sally’s heart skipped a beat; her flawless dark brown skin practically glowing in the light, green eyes looked warmly at her beneath long perfectly straight brown hair. A thick pale white cloak covered her head, keeping away the snowflakes, while delicate fingers held a position on a thick red leather bound book.

“So there aren’t any classes at the moment…” Her green eyes narrowed, she covered her mouth in surprise. “Sorry. You’re Sally, aren’t you? The person that arrived from the south?”

“Yes…” Sally stepped forward and pulled her cloak tighter. “They told me to come here when I woke up. Said something about wanting to check my mana potential? Or something?”

“Yes.” The beautiful brown woman beckoned her closer. “Everyone gets checked. I was lucky. I, apparently, have the highest amount of mana in Atros that doesn’t have a Glyph, so they have me learn magic rather than helping in the fields.”

She looked behind and smiled. “Though I still have other work. Work that’s very important for Atros.”

Sally didn’t understand but still approached. The cloak that the brown woman wore was surprisingly large and covered something behind her. A large seat, perhaps?

“But we can still do the test.” The brown woman smiled. “Even I know how to do that, but I’m sure that Mezot will want to see it for herself. She’s very...She’s an odd woman.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.” Sally didn’t want to only refer to her as the brown skinned woman, no matter how beautiful she was.

“Ulyaa. My name is Ulyaa.” She pointed to a small cabinet to the side of the room. “Could you please get the box in there...Do you know how to read?”

“No. My parents didn’t have enough time...Or money. Soulthor was very poor.” Sally pulled a face as she approached the cabinet. “But she did offer me to Anton. That was the man that healed me. That’s what the snake lady told me. Is that right?”

“Eider? Yes. That was Anton.” Ulyaa chuckled. “And what was that about being offered to Anton?”

Sally almost cracked a smile. “He, and another two women, helped us defeat a horde of Mole Rats that attacked our village, before the Cult did. And my mother…” Sally opened the cabinet. “She wanted me to be...I don’t really know what she wanted me to do with him. I don’t think it was anything good.”

Ulyaa chuckled. “That’s very interesting. He never mentioned something like that. But, could you please get the box marked with the blue letters? That’s the one we need.”

Sally knew it was writing but she couldn’t understand it.

“Can you read?” Sally took the light box and returned to Ulyaa. “I thought it would be impossible to learn Principle Magic without it.”

“It is. But I’m learning.” Ulyaa tapped the book. “Right now I can’t read very fast, but Anton and Mezot can read without having to follow the words with their fingers. I don’t know how they do it all in their heads. But they’ve told me that I can do it too one day.”

Sally placed the box before her. Ulyaa placed the book to one side and opened the box. Inside lay a simple but perfectly round stone and a small piece of paper with strange drawings next to what Sally thought were numbers. The whiter the circle the higher the number.

“It’s very simple.” Ulyaa took the stone and it began to glow very bright. “See? That’s all you have to do. Just hold it and compare it to the piece of paper. That’s it. I’m about...Six and a half? About there. But most people are right down here.” Ulyaa pointed to the bottom of the paper where the circles were dull grey. “One or maybe two. So let’s see what you are.”

Sally hesitantly took the stone. The brightness remained the same as Ulyaa’s, perhaps slightly brighter.

“That’s incredible.” Ulyaa clapped her hands together. “You might have more mana than me.”

“How?” Sally brought the stone close to her eyes. Somehow it radiated light, yet it wasn’t hot. “I...I don’t feel like I have any mana. Shouldn’t some mage have found me if I have so much?”

Ulyaa smiled. “That’s a question you have to ask Mezot. I think that they can’t just feel how much mana people have...So they need to test people...I don’t know.” Ulyaa shrugged. “But this is great news. The more Mages Atros has the better.”

Something within Sally snapped. “How can you people honestly hope to win?!”

Ulyaa shied back but Sally didn’t notice.

“There are tens of thousands of Goblins in Surdon. Probably hundreds of thousands, all with metal weapons and armour. All wanting to kill everything that’s not them! They’ll kill you, every Human, Beast-kin, Dwarf, Dark Elf...Everything! How come you haven’t run away? Somewhere where it’s safe! These walls won’t be enough to protect you!”

Ulyaa simply smiled. “I believe that we can win. I know that we will win. Under Anton’s protection this city has grown from a tiny village to a fortified city, and we’re growing stronger by the day. More people and resources are flowing into Atros, even during the winter. Perhaps because it’s winter, where we can really focus on building and training. Regardless, he is not going to abandon us so we will not abandon Atros. Besides…” Ulyaa patted something behind her. “It’s not like there’s anywhere else for someone like me anyway. Maybe that’s why we aren’t going to leave.”

Sally didn’t understand. Ulyaa saw the confusion clearly covering her face.

“Sally, I know that this might seem a little odd, but I’m a Beast-kin.”

“What?” Sally’s eyes raked her body, at least what she could see. “But all of the Beast-kin don’t look...Human. And you do...They don’t have dark skin like you either.”

Ulyaa chuckled. “I’m a little different. An Arachnid has the upper body of a human but the lower half is that of a spider. A very large spider.”

Sally looked over Ulyaa’s shoulder. The long cloak could have been hiding a Beast-kin body but Sally found it a little unbelievable. Beast-kin were supposed to be bestial humanoids, not one of the most beautiful women that she had ever laid eyes on.

“Please don’t be too alarmed.” Ulyaa stood up. Sally still did not see the Beast-kin body. “But I know that you’ve already seen Beast-kin before, and you haven’t freaked out.”

“The snake lady was nice enough.” Sally shrugged as she placed the glowing stone into the box. “And the others don’t seem bad. They’re talking with the other humans…”

Sally trailed off, not really sure what she was trying to say. Ulyaa said nothing and stepped back. Sally immediately knew something was wrong, she was standing shorter than her body should have been. She remained silent as Ulyaa moved around the side of the table and into full view.

“I…”

Ulyaa spoke true. Her lower half was that of a spider, quite large compared to her human upper half, yet it moved with incredible grace. The thick pale white cloak was draped loosely over her legs, yet was attached to her spider body by a series of thin straps. Her spider legs were bare, apart from the very base of her feet. Those were covered in a thick wrapping of a seemingly dense material, one which droplets of water simply ran off.

“It stops the cloak from coming loose.” Ulyaa noticed where she was looking. “Otherwise, when I’m moving it would slide off and I’d be spending most of my time putting back on rather than...Whatever it was I was doing before.”

“But…” Sally blinked. “But they told me that Beast-kin are bestial…”

“Well, this is.” Ulyaa raised one of her spider legs. “I’m probably more bestial than most Beast-kin.”

“I didn’t think a Beast-kin could be so beautiful…” Sally’s body turned completely rigid, her face turned red while her ears burned like fire.

Ulyaa blinked before beginning to laugh. “That’s the first time I’ve been called beautiful, especially by someone by someone I’ve just met. Oh dear. You’re going to make me blush.”

Sally couldn’t see any difference on her dark skin but if a tinge of red crept over her face it would be extremely difficult to tell, especially compared to her own.

“I...I’m sorry.” Sally stepped back. “I shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine.” Ulyaa reached out and held her hand. It was surprisingly warm and extremely soft. “I’m just teasing you a little.” Ulyaa moved closer with a devilish smile on her face. “You shouldn’t say those sort of things unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”

“It just sort of came out.” Sally laughed. “I didn’t...I did mean it.”

Ulyaa rested her hand on the side of her head. “See? On a more serious note, you have tremendous magical potential. So you won’t be doing much work besides learning magic.”

“I...I don’t know what I want to do.” Sally’s shoulders dropped. “I just wanted to escape Surdon. I didn’t think of anything beyond that.”

“I was the same way. I have spent nearly every waking moment a slave, a slave to the Seocurian Empire. They told me what to do, when and with what.” Ulyaa softly sighed. “They even forced me to have children against my will. Arachnids give birth to multiple children, so I actually have quite a few children in Seocuria.”

“Do...Do they know about Atros?”

“No. They were taken from me at birth.” Ulyaa shrugged. “I barely saw them before they were taken away. So they wouldn’t know me from any other Arachnid. It’s still a little annoying but there’s nothing that I can do.”

“Well…” Sally didn’t know what to say.

“It’s fine.” Ulyaa squeezed her hands. “As I said, there’s nothing I can do about it now. But I can do something to make sure my current home doesn’t fall. To those nasty Goblins or the Seocurian slavers, so that’s why I’m doing my best to learn Principle Magic. Even though...Even though I’m not very good, I think.”

Ulyaa patted the cloak covering her spider body. “Not to mention I help Atros in other ways. I produce silk, a very strong material which can be used for clothing and gambeson. A lot of the soldiers, if you’ve seen them wearing something like this cloak, then it’s come from me.”

“Come from where?” Sally lent around her. “Does it come…”

“It comes from me. Let’s just say that.”

Ulyaa picked up her red leather bound book and placed it into a small hessian bag. She placed the bag just behind her back, the thin string resting across her chest. Sally frowned as she saw how far it dug into the centre of her chest and how little the rest moved.

“These are incredibly valuable.” Ulyaa patted the bag. “Worth many more times than what Anton paid for our freedom.”

“He paid money for you to be free? And they just let that happen?”

“Oh no.” Ulyaa smiled. “The Seocurian Empire doesn’t know about this. If they did…” Ulyaa shuddered, every part of her body. “They won’t take us back as slaves. They’ll string us up along the streets of Danafra, if we’re lucky, to send a message to the Beast-kin. There is no escape. The life you live is the best that you can get, so don’t try anything.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Exactly why we’re not going to let that happen.” Ulyaa smiled and began to walk towards the entrance of the Academy. “But without Mezot we can’t really do that much. So...How much of Atros have you seen so far? I know it hasn’t been long…”

“Not much. After arriving here I was given food and somewhere to sleep. So I did that. I really didn’t see much of Atros.”

“Then this is the perfect time.” Ulyaa clapped her hands together. “I’m not the most knowledgeable about Atros, but it’s better than nothing. Come on, let’s go.”

Sally followed Ulyaa, it felt like she really didn’t have much of a choice.

---[]---

Sally walked beside Ulyaa through the snow, keeping her cloak tight against her body. The wind had picked up and tried to rip through the wide city streets and the heat from her body. Ulyaa did the same, keeping the pale cloak tight against her human upper half while constantly checking that the cloak covering her spider body was still in place.

“I’m just a little worried about the straps.” Ulyaa smiled and smoothed the cloak covering her spider body. “I made them myself. I can spin as much silk as I want, but that doesn’t mean that I can just make anything from it.”

“Do...Do the seamstresses know?” Sally wanted someone to be talking, anything other than the gentle crushing of their boots on the snow. “That it comes from you?”

“Of course.” Ulyaa laughed. “Some have already guessed but none have asked. And I think they don’t want to.” Ulyaa pulled at the hem of her shirt. “You should have seen Anton’s face when we showed him how strong this silk is. He must have thought that I was going to stab myself.”

Sally had no idea what to say. Even if this was a strange place, the people, and Beast-kin, were even more strange. Ulyaa noticed and calmed herself.

“But I think you should see some of Atros. Even if it’s just a vague sense. Better than nothing. It took me a long time to learn my way around. But, if you’re ever lost, just look to the north.” Ulyaa pointed to a snow-capped mountain looming in the distance. “Mount Aspire is to the north. So just remember that if you ever get lost.”

“Right...Soulthor wasn’t this large. You could see the entire village from the centre.”

“I think Atros was like that at one time. But that was well before we arrived.”

Ulyaa walked along the gently curving streets, pointing to important buildings and landmarks, including a Bathhouse that Ulyaa insisted was one of Anton’s greatest decisions. The line to enter was quite long but no one seemed to mind.

“And that...Oh. It’s Irso.” Ulyaa began to wave at one of the Beast-kin, a particularly fierce looking one. “Irso! Over here.”

The Beast-kin in question stood at the end of the line. Her eyes, someone constantly on the very of an angry eruption turned towards her and softened. Sally was surprised that someone like Ulyaa could be friends with someone that looked so angry.

“Ulyaa.” Irso left the line. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I still see Kal and Eider often, even Rasha.” Ulyaa folded her arms underneath her chest. “It’s only you that spends all of their time with Zac, slammed up against a wall.”

Against a what?

Irso’s eyebrow twitched and her tail, long and covered in many menacing spines slowed until it was barely moving. Irso chuckled, her voice crackled slightly.

“True. One of the reasons that I really want a bath.” She looked to the line. “No chance for some privacy, except if you’re Rasha it seems. I had a time reserved for me but it was interrupted by her and Anton.” Something flashed over her face. “That means it’s just you that doesn’t have someone. Even with these you’re still single?”

Without another word Irso grabbed Ulyaa’s breast and squeezed. Ulyaa’s eyes widened before narrowing to slits.

“Oh stop it. I know that you’re jealous.”

“A little bit.” Irso laughed. “Only a little bit.”

Ulyaa leant close to Sally, her spider legs compressing on one side so she tilted her whole body and not just from her waist. “She’s become a lot nicer since she’s been with Zac. A lot nicer.”

“And who’s this?” Irso leant closer to Sally. “Some human? I haven’t seen her before.”

“Sally.” Ulyaa began. “She escaped from Surdon, that city to the south with all of the Goblins. And she has a lot of mana, so she’ll be learning Principle Magic with me.”

But...I still don’t know if I want to be a mage. It doesn’t sound like something you can just learn in a few days.

“Really?” Irso looked somewhat impressed. “Well that’s fantastic. The more of those mages the better. Means that I’m not having to worry about anything other than my work.”

Ulyaa leant close to Sally again. “Irso works in the smithy. The one above ground. Drakelings are very resistant to fire, so it’s a good place for her. It’s also where she met Zac, so there’s other reasons why she likes it there.”

Irso didn’t deny anything. “You just showing her around?”

“Mezot isn’t here-”

Irso grunted and shook her head. “She’s a real strange one. I know that a lot of the people that Anton picks up are strange but she’s really strange. Like she’s not all there in the head.”

“True.” Ulyaa smiled. “But once you get past that she’s very, very nice and smart. Smart and kind enough to spend ages teaching the same thing to me, over and over because I just don’t understand it.”

“I suppose.” Irso looked back to the growing line outside the Bathhouse. “Looks like I’m going to have to get my spot back otherwise I’ll be here all day. Glad you made it out of there, Sally. And welcome to Atros. For all that’s worth.”

Irso gave a backwards wave as she returned to the line. She stopped and faced the person that had taken her spot. Quickly thee woman backed away and Irso resumed her place.

“Strange?” Sally shook her head. “She’s scary.”

“Only to people she doesn’t like and those that threaten her friends. She once threatened Anton, even once she knew that he had magic that could easily destroy Atros, because she thought that he was hurting me. But...” Ulyaa sighed. “She has calmed a little.” She winked at Sally. “Only a little.”

Sally remained close to Ulyaa as they began walking once more. The rest of the morning was spent merely walking around the streets of Atros. Sally quickly learned that the concentric rings had gates aligned with the four directions so navigating was extremely easy. However, something was niggling at her thoughts.

“Ulyaa?” Sally asked as they stopped at the southernmost point of Atros’s wall, the same place where Sally had arrived. “I’ve seen lots of Beast-kin in Atros, but I haven’t seen any like you. Are you the only Arachnid in Atros?”

“For now.” Ulyaa solemnly nodded. “For now. Anton doesn’t discriminate who he rescues. It’s not like he’s going to ignore a hundred Canines because he might be able to get a few Arachnids. Though it would make it easier on me...Oh dear.”

“What?” Sally looked to the closed southern gate, fearing that a horde of Goblins were about to attack, but Ulyaa’s tone did not match the fear one would expect.

“I said that he doesn’t discriminate and here come the only other person that-”

“Ulyaa!” A voice cut through the cold air. “What are you doing out here?”

“Hello Verona.” Ulyaa sighed, tilting towards Sally. “Whatever you do, don’t let yourself get swept up in this woman’s games.”

“Why?” Sally frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Trust me. She’ll warp your head if you’re not careful.” Despite Ulyaa’s menacing threat her normal mile returned, and not one that was hiding disgust.

Ulyaa nodded towards two approaching women, both of whom were pregnant. One was very short, pale white skin with silver hair, the other much taller, with dark skin and dark aqua hair. For a moment Sally thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, it looked like her eyes were those of a cats, but horizontal rather than vertical. The longer she looked the more she realised she was seeing true.

“Verona.” Ulyaa almost sighed. “How are you?”

The short silver haired woman opened both of her arms to give Ulyaa a hug. She rolled her eyes but still accepted it, returning it quite fondly.

“I’m doing great.” Verona raised her hand to her mouth. “Well, maybe not that great.” She placed her other hand on her stomach, protruding the cloak out. “These are really causing me some trouble. Nearly every morning I’m feeling sick. Not to mention my back is killing me.”

“I wonder why.” Ulyaa said dryly.

“I don’t understand how you’re not suffering.” Verona scoffed. “Yours are almost as large as mine and yet you’re completely fine. I mean, your upper half is normally leaning back so that might be-”

The dark skinned woman shook her head before holding Verona’s head. “That has only gotten worse. She acts normal in front of Anton, though.”

“I’m fine.” Verona gently swatted away her hand. “If pregnancy was just a little bit easier...” Her eyes drifted to Sally. “And you must be the person that escaped Surdon?”

“I...I am.” Sally didn’t know why she had difficulty answering Verona’s question. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly troublesome about her. Maybe a little cheeky, but nothing that warranted Ulyaa’s warning.

“I’m glad that you made it out.” The dark skinned woman spoke. “I’m sorry that none of your village did.”

Sally solemnly nodded. “’Yeah...But...”

“You’re safe here. Anton will keep Atros safe, no matter what.”

“Too right, Kal.” Verona nodded. “And once our children are born then we’ll be able to help out even more. Though-”

“Though one, or both of us, will have to stay behind.” Kal gently rubbed her swollen stomach. “My mother wasn’t able to be there for me, so I won’t miss a single moment of my child.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like it was deliberate.” Verona smiled. “If Marion hadn’t thrown you from that wall you wouldn’t be here. Neither would Eider, she would have been killed, and Rasha and Kristof would have been sold off as...” Verona glanced at Sally. “Sorry. Some stuff I probably shouldn’t be talking about in front of someone so young.”

“I...Don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Perhaps that for the best.” Verona smiled and clapped her hands. “Now. Did I hear correctly that you were going to be a Principle Mage?”

“I...” Sally felt her lips and jaw harden. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything...” Inside she felt the same anger, frustration, that she had felt when she yelled at Ulyaa.

Kal, knelt before Sally. It took her some effort, most likely the baby was draining some of her strength.

“It’s okay to not know what you want to do.” Kal held her hand. Unlike Ulyaa’s hers were clearly not human. No human had claws after all. “I didn’t. I’ve spent most of my life by myself, hiding from humans.”

“But you’re not a Beast-kin.” Sally said softly.

Kal smiled and pulled back her hood. Despite her human face she had large fluffy ears. Even her teeth weren’t human, jagged, like a predators, but she didn’t seem scary.

“I’m a Half-breed. My mother, Marion, is a Beast-kin. My father...It’s best that I don’t think about him.” Kal shuffled forward. “But I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Even coming here, and finding the man that I was destined to be with, I still didn’t know. But...And I know this is going to sound a little odd, but I still tried.”

Kal was right. She didn’t understand.

“What I mean is that I didn’t know that Anton was going to be the man that I fell in love with. But, even if I didn’t, I was still going to help him. And it was through that, that I fell in love.”

“You think I should fall in love with Mezot?” Sally raised a brow.

Verona burst into laughter. “Not going to happen. Well, Mezot’s got eyes for one person and one person only.” She held a finger to her lips and looked down. “Even her daughter...”

“Ignore Verona.” Kal smiled. “It gets easier.”

“Hey!”

“But I think that you should still try to learn Principle Magic. While it can’t do anything to undo what has happened to you, it can help to stop it from happening again.”

Sally looked to Ulyaa, who merely smiled. What Kal was saying felt very similar to what she said.

“And, you never know, maybe you will find some to love as you learn Principle Magic.” Kal bit her lip as she shook her head. “Anton and I started to bond over cooking a mushroom soup. Can you believe that? This,” Kal pointed to her stomach. “So you never know.”

“I don’t know anything about that. I’ve never...” Sally took a deep breath. “But I’ll try. I can’t read, and I don’t think I’m that smart, but I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit.” Verona brought Sally into a tight hug before she could respond. Verona was equal parts soft and hard, and extremely warm. “You never know what’s going to happen unless you take that first step.”

“Indeed.” Kal still held Sally’s hand. “But we should keep moving.”

“Do we?”

“Yes.” Kal refrained from rolling her eyes. “You said you wanted to take a walk because your eyes were hurting from looking at those feathers all day. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”

“No. Of course not.” Verona relinquished her hold on Sally. “But I got a little too engrossed by Ulyaa’s new friend.”

I don’t understand this woman. What is she saying? What is she trying to do with me? Is this what Ulyaa meant?

“We’ll see you later then.” Verona waved as they began to head towards the centre of Atros. “Don’t hesitate to swing by our house if you want to talk about something. We’re not always there but...Do if you can.”

“We will.” Ulyaa gently waved. “Be safe you two.”

Kal gave a quick wave before catching up to Verona.

Ulyaa stood perfectly still until they were well out of hearing range. “Gods. That woman...Verona, not Kal. Verona’s a strange one.”

“Yeah...” Sally patted down her shirt. “She was very odd.”

“But do you see why I said you have to be careful around her?”

“She seemed nice. Just a little...” Sally jolted forward. “That.”

“Yes.” Ulyaa smiled. “But see what they did when they were working together? Verona comes in too hard, then Kal speaks nicely and you’re a lot more willing to agree to what they had to say in the first place. No?”

Sally thought long and hard before responding. At first she just didn’t know what she wanted, whether or not to be a Principle Mage. However, putting it all together, it seemed like Ulyaa might have had a point.

“Maybe.” Sally watched the two disappear behind the gate. “Kal was a Half-Breed?”

“Yes. When a Human and a Beast-kin have a child, sometimes they come out like her. But Kal is especially rare, since the division, as Marion called it, is perfect. She doesn’t have one arm that’s human and the other Beast-kin.”

“And her father?”

Ulyaa’s eyes turned hard and her body shuddered. “Best not to ask that question, if you want to remain on her good side. Her father was a terrible, terrible man. A very terrible man. But she never got the chance to kill him. That’s what one of the daggers she carries with her is for.”

“One of?” Sally asked as they began walking once more.

“Yes...” Ulyaa placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think the other is for her first friend. Lucia.”

“Who’s Lucia?”

Ulyaa did not answer, even when Sally repeated the question. She decided not to inquire any further, at least for today.

---[]---

“And this is my home.” Ulyaa said proudly as she opened the wooden door. “It’s not much but it’s my home. So, so much better than what we had in Seocuria.”

Sally entered Ulyaa’s home at her request. It was slightly more furnished than her own but mainly from small items and trinkets that Ulyaa had collected after being freed from the Seocurian slavers. A few pieces of dried food, a small bundle of blue flowers and a collection of bright blue and orange clothes. Since Ulyaa only needed a shirt, and a long skirt, she had no pants. Sally smiled at the idea of Ulyaa only covering her front spider legs.

“At least we have some privacy here.” Ulyaa muttered. “Some mornings I have to spin my silk here, otherwise I wouldn’t make it to the north.”

“Is it really that bad?” Sally looked to the rear of Ulyaa’s spider body.

“Yeah. Some days…” Ulyaa moved to the messily made bed. “Some days I can barely move until I do.”

Ulyaa stepped onto the bed, spun around and tucked her legs underneath. She smiled as she pulled her cloak tight.

“I never thought that I could make so much. I think it’s kind of like Rasha.”

“She...The Blue woman?”

“Yeah.” Ulyaa laughed as she gripped her breasts hard and lifted them high. “The one with the giant breasts. But, since she’s a Minotaur, she produces milk. A lot of milk. And from what I’ve heard she’s making more than ever since she’s been healed. I guess my body is kind of similar.”

“But isn’t she with Anton?” Sally moved to the other bed. A small plume of dust emerged from around her rear. It had not been used in some time.

“Yes. But...I don’t really want to get involved with all of that.” Ulyaa shrugged. “I’ve thought about it but I don’t want to be jostling for my partner. It seems to work for some people, but not for me. Not for me.”

Sally slowly nodded. She had never given much thought to boys, in a romantic sense, especially since the offerings in Soulthor were very poor. She understood that they were poor, extremely poor, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t try and wash themselves from time to time, nor act like creeps when they spoke to her, especially some of the older men…

“Sally?” Ulyaa slunk from the bed, her human half did not dip down while her spider legs silently stepped onto the wooden floor. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Ulyaa gently held her face. “You can tell me what’s wrong. We’re friends, right?”

“I don’t know what…” Sally stopped when Ulyaa brushed just beneath her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Ulyaa’s fingertips were wet. Sally touched just beneath her eye. Tears were running down her face. She was crying, and yet she didn’t know why.

“Why…”

Ulyaa hugged her tight, the warmth from her body flowed through her thick cloak and into her heart. Something within her snapped and she began to cry. She couldn’t stop herself, the sobbing grew more and more uncontrollable, until she could barely breathe through the wet sobs.

“I watched them all die!” Sally tried to push Ulyaa away but she wasn’t strong enough. “Everyone! My mother, my father...Everyone. And they only kept me because I might have been useful to them...Why? Why did I get to live when no one else did?”

“I don’t know.” Ulyaa squeezed her tighter. “But you are alive. Alive to warn everyone of what lies to the south and to stop anyone else from becoming their victims. I didn’t know anyone in your village, but I know that they wouldn’t want you to spend every waking moment in terror or regret.”

“I-”

“There was nothing that you could have done. But you have done everything that you can to stop them from doing it again.” Ulyaa smiled. “Your parents would be very proud of you.”

“I...I suppose so.” Sally’s body shuddered as she wiped away the fresh tears. She cried so hard that she could even feel the redness around her eyes. “I suppose you’re right.”

Ulyaa backed away. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it, instead tilting her head to one side.

“Sally...Are you sleeping by yourself?”

“Yes.” Sally wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They gave me the entire house to live in. I don’t have anything but my clothes.”

“Apparently it’s going to be a very cold night tonight.” Ulyaa stepped back to her bed. “How about you spend the night here with me? It is quite cold by myself. Even when Eider was here it wasn’t good. She is cold blooded…” Ulyaa shrugged, almost cracking a smile. “Probably why she spends a lot of her time with those Beast-kin bodyguards of hers.”

“I…” Sally slowly calmed now that she was thinking about something else. “I...Can I? They won’t get mad for me being somewhere I wasn’t…”

“It’ll be fine.” Ulyaa pulled her towards the bed. “They won’t mind. I’m sure of it. Besides, I don’t like being cold either. For all the horrible, horrible things the Seocurians did to us freezing wasn’t one of them. Of course they didn’t have a chance.” Ulyaa shrugged again. “But I’m glad that I’m having this problem now.”

“I suppose so.” Sally didn’t have the strength to argue. “I am feeling very tired. Still. It’s…”

“It’s been a long day. For all of us.”

Sally shrugged. She really didn’t have the strength to argue and a warm bed was a very tantalising prospect. She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the bed beside Ulyaa. It was surprisingly soft and comfortable, the material giving away just enough to form around her body.

“Do you like it?” Ulyaa skittered towards the end of the bed, never raising herself more than an inch.

“Yeah...I’ve never had a bed this soft.” Sally pulled her head up. “Not even in Surdon.”

Ulyaa smiled as she pulled the sheets out from underneath her. “We, I say we but it’s really Anton that gives the final say on whether something or not is bought, but it was bought from Bebbezzar. It’s really good. Says...He said that it’ll improve our standing with them. Or something like that. That we’re good trading partners.”

“Bebbezzar?” Sally’s eyes began to feel extremely heavy, her muscles were having an increasingly hard time keeping her head upright. “How...How did he get there? And back, with this?”

“An interesting story.” Ulyaa waved Sally towards the soft looking pillows. “But I’m not that strong. And if you fall asleep right here, I’m going to have trouble moving you to the right position.”

“Right.”

Sally maneuvered herself to the correct position while Ulyaa easily stepped from the bed, collected a set of thicker fur blankets and placed them on the far side of the bed.

“There.” Ulyaa looked rather pleased with herself. “Normally I have to have this, otherwise I’ll be freezing, but it’s better to be too hot that cold.”

“Yeah.” Sally forced a laugh. “I know exactly what you are saying.”

Sally did not intend for it to sound snide but she doubted Ulyaa, or anyone in Atros knew what true cold was like. She knew what it felt like, and being a little chilly was nothing by comparison. Ulyaa, for her part, acted or simply did not know and ushered Sally further towards the far edge. She lay next to her, her human body on her side while her spider body lay on its back, her legs curled towards the centre.

“I normally sleep like this.” Ulyaa smiled as two of her spider legs reached for the cloth sheets. “It’s a little bit weird, I know, but every other position just hurts when I wake up.”

Sally didn’t comment as Ulyaa deftly pulled the cloth and fur sheets over them. After a few breaths Sally felt her eyes close, but the tears returned. Ulyaa wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into her chest. Sally managed a faint grumble as she buried her head into Ulyaa’s breasts, frustratingly both were almost the size of her head and incredibly soft and warm.

“Ulyaa…” Sally looked up at the Arachnid, half of her face still buried in her soft, warm chest. “Do...Do you think that…”

Ulyaa smiled and gently stroked her head. “It’ll be alright. We’re safe in Atros. Nothing can hurt you here. So let’s just go to sleep. We have a lot of work in the morning. It’ll be the first time that you get to see magic, though thinking about that will probably just keep you awake.”

Sally smiled and pulled herself closer to Ulyaa. After a few more breaths her eyes closed and darkness covered her thoughts. As Ulyaa continued to gently her head Sally slipped into the first calm sleep since she was taken from Soulthor.

Volume 05 - Chapter 53 - Sana Vākara

Anton stood at the top of Temur’s Sled as the Weevil trudged through the bright sand, illuminated by the early morning sunshine. The night had been rather uneventful; they had returned to their room and mostly slept, there was nothing for them to do while the Nomads repacked their tents and camp and prepared to leave. Temur did ask them to stay in their rooms as they might become a distraction, especially to the younger amongst their tribe who were always thrusting for adventure and stories of the world beyond the desert dunes.

“Already it’s starting to get warm.” Anton mused. “It’s barely been an hour since the sun’s come up.”

“It is always like this.” Zuhura, standing to his side, softly spoke. “Cold during the night and hot during the day. Unlike...Your city.”

Anton was glad that she was not willing to divulge anything she had witnessed in Atros, nor the twins' true identity as Dark Elves. If she didn’t pass she would have had to be imprisoned in Atros or killed, neither of which felt right for Anton.

“How often do you wash yourselves anyway?” Cetina asked. She stood by Anton’s other side, wearing her Frindal clothes. “I get the feeling that these clothes, no matter how good they are, are going to get a bit...Smelly.

Zuhura looked away. “You get used to it.”

The Sled lurched forward slightly. Above Anton heard a slight cry. Calo and Sheso were already on top, standing at the base of the mast while a Nomad watched from high. While Anton did not have an issue with their presence it did mean their topics were limited.

“How long before we reach the Feral’s territory?”

Zuhura nodded to the Weevil. The ponderous insect slowly trudged through the sand just faster than a job, but the soft sands did nothing to impede its movement, nor did the weight of the Sled. He wasn’t sure if it was even aware that it was lugging around such a heavy weight.

“I do not know the exact time it will take.” Zuhura pointed to a lower level, a well-practiced movement. “Temur would know the route, along with if we need to negotiate with another Tribe to reach the border.”

“I’ll just go check on our mages.” Anton smiled. “See how those two are doing.”

Anton knocked on the door but heard nothing. He gently opened the door; Mezot and Axia were asleep in their beds, however Axia tossed and turned violently. Sweat rolled down her face as her face scrunched up tight in pain.

Looks like she’s having a nightmare...Probably from her time with Trellos’s thugs.

Anton quickly moved to Axia’s side and knelt down. Axia murmured unintelligible words as her head twitched back and forth. Anton gently prodded her shoulder, he didn’t want to hold her hand just in case she was reliving the event and think he was the attacker. At least she couldn’t use magic without her Charm.

“Axia.” Anton gave her a slightly more vigorous shake. “Wake up.”

Axia’s eyes shot open. They swiveled back and forth, scanning the ceiling for something. Quickly they softened as she realized where she was.

“I…” Her body relaxed as she gripped the thin sheet. “I was back there.”

Anton retrieved a small piece of cloth and wiped the sweat from Axia’s face. She smiled as he gave her nose a little tap.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What can I say?” Axia grunted and pulled herself up so she could sit upright. “I know they can’t do anything to me, they’re dead, Verona killed them, but I still keep seeing it.”

Axia’s shook her head. Her thin nightshirt stuck in places to her damp skin. She picked at her shoulders and freed the cloth.

Anton gently stroked her head. “Do you know that I was attacked and nearly killed?.” Axia turned and stared at him in silence. “They stabbed me dozens of times and almost slit my throat.”

Anton showed her the still raw scar tissue around his wrist. “I even lost my hand, for a time, but I cannot fix this. Regardless, if it weren’t for Cetina I’d certainly be dead. And, even after all the things that I’ve done and seen, I still wake up in a bit of a state.”

I haven’t really thought about it too much, but she doesn’t need to know that. However...I have overheard Verona and Kal talking about me muttering about something, while I toss and turn in my sleep.

Axia had waited patiently while Anton had been thinking, staring at him while he stroked her hair. He gently held her shoulder and held her gaze.

“No matter what you think right now, it will get easier.” Anton squeezed her shoulder. “Day by day. That’s the only way. But it will get easier. You just need to trust me.”

“Okay.” Axia smiled. “It’s not that bad now, actually. It’s just bad when I’m there. But it is better than the first night.”

“If you ever want-”

“I will.” Axia patted his hand.

She looked back to her mother, sound asleep with her face deep into her pillow. She had barely moved since she had fallen into bed.

“How about you do that to mother?” Axia’s smirk widened. “I know she’d love it.”

“Well…” Anton squeezed her nose between his fingers. “You wouldn’t mind me stealing your mother from you?”

Axia scoffed. “It wouldn’t matter if you did. Because we’d be together no matter what.” Axia winked and jumped out of bed. “You just wait until I’m older.”

Axia skipped to the cupboards to gather her clothes.

That’s...That’s a threat if I’ve ever heard one.

While Axia moved to the side portal room to change Anton moved to Mezot’s bed. It was strange to think that one of the most powerful mages he’d ever met, certainly in the continent, was sound asleep and completely defenseless. The conversation with Axia brought back the words of the assassins in Qaiviel, how they had apparently killed Mages before and he doubted they had any issues with killing them in their sleep.

Why did I just think that?

Anton gently poked Mezot’s head. Beneath the loose blonde hair, she began to stir. Mezot let out a groan as she hauled herself up, her hair stuck to her face as her eyes could barely open themselves. It took her almost half a minute to realize Anton was kneeling beside her bed.

“W-What’s happening?” Mezot’s body jerked up as she wildly grasped for her staff and Charm resting on the far side of the room. “Where…”

“You are absolutely terrible in the morning. Aren’t you?”

Mezot’s arm almost gave way, she flopped back onto the bed.

“We’re in Frindal...My mana feels…”

“Yes. We’re still in Frindal.” Anton shifted his legs. His Dragonoid feet did not like having all his weight being put through one. “And it’s morning. There’s not much to do until we set up camp, but I wanted you awake.”

“Oh…”

“You’ve slept through most of the night.” Anton smiled. “Even though you were supposed to wake up for a little bit of guard duty. More practice than anything serious.”

Mezot’s eyes began to water. Though Anton spoke the truth he didn’t mind sometimes being alone. Normally he was surrounded by people he cared about greatly but there were times when he just wanted absolute peace and silence, and the desert nights delivered it.

“I...Even now I can’t remember things.” Mezot grit her teeth. “When I’m not even teaching-”

Anton held her head. “It’s alright. It’s fine. Just from now on, I would like for you to get into the habit of being awake sometimes for guard duty. Though someone might think you’re weak,” Anton nodded to her staff resting in the corner. “We both know that’s not true.”

Mezot wiped away her budding tears with her sheet and slowly nodded.

“So get dressed.” Anton gave her loose hair a slight ruffle. “We’ve got another day ahead of us. If we’re not doing anything important I might have you and Axia return to Atros to do…” Anton raised his hand, Mezot frowned and tilted her head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”

“What isn’t?”

Mezot moved her rear towards the pillow as she sat upright. Like Axia, and everyone for that matter, they wore thin clothes inside the room, even though outside was exceedingly cold during the night. The insulation was surprisingly good and it worked both ways, keeping the room a pleasant constant temperature. Mezot’s clothes had almost slipped entirely from her shoulders. The set she wore was not her own and fitted very poorly. It was an odd sight to see a woman’s shoulders without a decent amount of muscle, considering that everyone that Anton currently slept had a considerable build. Nearly everyone in Atros for that matter. Those that were unfit simply would not survive in this world.

“Having you two return to Atros.” Anton tried to signal to Mezot what the problem was but she, as he expected, did not understand.

“Why would we go back?”

Anton clicked his tongue and tapped her shoulder. Mezot looked down but still did not understand. Anton decided to drop the issue, her shirt had not completely fallen away, though she had absolutely zero cleavage for him to look at.

“In case we come under attack.” Anton looked to the roof. “They mentioned something called Blood Vultures. What happens if there are hundreds of the beasts and we need someone that can use large scale magic. Ice or Water Magic, for example.”

Mezot finally understood, not regarding her shirt of course. “It might be for the best. Except I would like to teach again.” Mezot’s face grew softer. “I would like to have a whole class listening to me.”

“You are getting better.” Anton squeezed Mezot’s cheek. Axia emerged in her Frindal garb looking quite pleased with herself. “What did you do?”

“Me? I just put all of this on and it fits right.”

Axia spun and let the edges of her long dress fly up. She, like everyone else in Anton’s group, wore tight trousers underneath. Anton did not know what Zuhura wore underneath. It would be incredibly rude to ask, but she appeared to go to bed only without her headscarf and boots.

“I’m glad you’re so easily impressed with yourself.” Axia stuck out her tongue at Anton. “But I need to find Temur and find out more about our current destination. And I can’t do that here with your shirt half fallen down.”

“My wha...Oh.” Mezot quickly pulled her shirt up. Realization washed over her. “That’s what you were trying to...I’m not very smart, am I?”

Anton smiled and ruffled her hair once more. “You’re getting better. Slowly but surely. There’s no other way.”

“I’ll get dressed and head outside.” Mezot yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Anton stood up. “But when you’re ready, find Calo and Sheso. They’re above us. I’m sure they might have a better idea. There’s a Nomad Scout up there so they might have been chatting.”

“Right.” Mezot threw the thin covers away. “I like the fabric but it is a little complicated to put all of this on.”

“I’ll help.” Axia smiled. “I had to ask Zuhura how to do it a dozen times already.”

Anton gave another smile and left the mother and daughter alone. Outside Cetina and Zuhura were talking, stopping the moment they noticed his presence.

“They alright?” Cetina asked.

“They’re fine. So long as the twins are still upstairs,”

Cetina nodded.

“Then we’d better find Temur.” Anton drew and unfurled the map of Frindal. “I have no idea of how accurately this displays distances or all of the places in the desserts. But we can’t have travelled that far.”

“You would be surprised,” Zuhura said calmly. “We have been travelling at a steady pace for most of the night and dawn.”

“Temur will know more. Where would he be at this time?”

“Probably with his family,” Zuhura said. “Breakfast will not start until the Tribe stops for the day.”

“I guess that answers Mezot’s question,” Anton said softly.

He began to walk down the narrow stairs, Cetina and Zuhura close behind. They passed other Nomads, most were still waking up or discussing the work for the upcoming day. It was clear they weren’t planning to do anything whilst the Sled was still moving, but they were planning to stop soon.

Anton found Temur standing at the back of the Sled, silently watching the rest of the tribal convoy stretch out behind them. Most rode on camels or walked briskly as they could through the sand but it was a losing battle. Now they were almost at ground level Anton watched as nomads slowly fell behind.

"Good morning." Temur smiled. Beside him stood Bedes, happier and brighter than before but still a little shaky. The two Nomad women waited behind him, though they did not keep their heads cast down.

"Good morning to you both. How are you feeling, Bedes?"

"Great!" Bedes smiled wildly. "I feel so much better."

"You should not strain yourself too much." One of the Nomad women said softly. "You might catch something else, or require further tending. I know you don't want to be stuck in your bed all day."

Bedes pouted and tore his head away from them, defiantly folding his arms and throwing his head up. The two women chuckled and smiled at him.

"We were wondering when," Anton glanced back to their rooms. "When breakfast would be happening. And how close you can get us to the Feral Beastkin border."

Temur shook his head. "I still don't think you should go there. Too dangerous. But if you're not going to be stopped then...We're planning on reaching a large town near the border, really the only town, and do trading there. But it will take some time. About...fourteen or so days?"

"That's..." Anton looked at the map of Frindal. "That's actually quite a while for how far we have to travel."

Temur shrugged. "We're travelling as fast as we can. It's slower than walking all day but we simply can't go any faster. We're going to have to stop soon anyway, before our tribe becomes too separated."

Temur looked to the mountains jutting out of the sand in the distance. "Thankfully it shouldn't be too much longer to reach the oasis. We will stop there, gather water and rest."

"Do you make this cloth when you've stopped?" Cetina ran a hand over the edge of her headscarf and Zuhura's. "Or do you do it on the Sleds?"

"When we've stopped," Bedes spoke excitedly. "Normally we help get everything ready and then the women weave the cloth. It's actually pretty interesting to watch...But not everyone likes me doing that. They say I'm distracting them from their work."

Again the Nomad women smiled, the silent one gently ruffled his hair. Bedes pretended not to notice.

"We'll keep ourselves away from-"

"Nonsense." Temur scoffed. "Go and mingle with the tribe. Most would be glad to see and hear of the wider world."

"Most?" Anton asked. Zuhura's clasped hands gripped tighter.

Temur scratched his beard, flecks of light brown sand came free. "There are some that don't think you should be here. But, aren't there always? Not so much a problem with you but a problem with your companions."

"I'm not going to attack anyone," Cetina said. "Nor am I going to try and change things."

"I feel like we've had this discussion before," Anton grumbled softly.

"They'll probably just moan and groan." Temur placed a hand on Bedes' head. "Until something good happens to them. Then, and only then, will they change."

Anton smiled. "I know that feeling all too well."

---[]---

Anton watched the Nomads establish their camp from the top of their Sled. In under ten minutes, they had transformed from a long snaking caravan to a sprawling tent city surrounding half of the oasis. The oasis itself was rather beautiful, not just because it was the only source of greenery in an otherwise endless expanse of browns. Four large pools formed the center, with large hardy trees surrounding each pool with thick grasses radiating out for many meters. A few birds darted between the larger trees while lizards and insects ran for cover underneath piles of rocks that formed the edge of the pools. The weevils were allowed to graze some of the grass but were already full by the time the open tents were set up. They were released from their Sleds and allowed to mingle and rest near the water's edge. After a few minutes they pulled their legs underneath their chitonous body and promptly fell asleep.

"They're all tuckered out." Anton tapped the wooden railing. "Does anyone want to explore a little or just rest here?"

Anton was a little surprised when everyone wanted to go explore.

"Someone needs to stay here," Cetina said. "It's just not safe to leave them there."

"I'll stay," Axia said. "So long as something nice happens later."

"We’ll just take the stones." Cetina smiled at Axia. "I wouldn't feel right enjoying myself knowing you are here all by yourself."

Cetina entered the room and pushed the door closed.

"Zuhura? Do you know of anything interesting to look for?"

"We should have breakfast first." Zuhura almost licked her lips in anticipation. "Then we can have a tour around the camp.”

“I wonder if Bedes would do it?” Anton shrugged. “He seemed like he wants to repay us. With his father’s permission, of course. I wonder if those two women are going to follow him...Certainly, since he’s still sick. Even with my magic…”

Cetina emerged and gave a nod. She didn’t look like she was hiding the stones on her body, one advantage of the loose clothes. As they quickly scurried down the stairs the smells of cooking food wafted over the camp. Those that had remained with the Sleds, not just Temur’s, emerged and began walking to a particular type of open tent, one with a small blue flag above the main insignia.

Well, I doubt many of the Nomads can read. Zuhura seems to be a special case.

“Hello!” Bedes stood just beyond the Sled, the two Nomad women at his side. “Do you want something for breakfast? They won’t be cooking forever you know.”

“Communal cooking.” Anton glanced at Zuhura. “To save on firewood...Wouldn’t wood be expensive to burn?”

“We do not use wood to burn.” Zuhura almost looked proud. “Trees are extremely rare and valuable in the desert. To cut them for firewood would be almost sacrilegious.”

Bedes’ minders nodded knowingly, the boy merely tilted his head.

“So they use coal. Only a little and in small pieces. Coal is far more efficient at heating and far easier to transport.”

“Do you have to trade that with the coastal Frindals?” Anton asked as he stepped onto the sand. He felt his body drop several millimeters until the sand could take his weight.

“There are several mines scattered throughout the desert.” One of the women replied. “Some of the smaller tribes make those areas their permanent settlement. At least we are not at the coastal Frindal’s mercy.”

“If they want your products you shouldn’t let them walk all over you.” Anton raised his hand. “But I’m sure you’ve heard this speech before.”

The two smiled. They had indeed heard it before, probably not from some strange Outsider. Without further instruction Bedes began to lead them through the camp, pointing out the tents like an overexcited tour guide and explaining who rested there and their purpose. Most were rather benign but a distant group caught his attention. The tent cloth was far thicker than the rest, with multiple layers flowing to the ground to form an interlocking wall. A Nomad man emerged looking very happy, a woman emerged as she adjusted her clothes. They walked away, hand in hand, as another couple pushed their way through the thick cloth.

“Not a lot of chances at privacy,” Anton said softly. “Not when everyone’s literally breathing down your neck.”

Cetina nudged his side, nodding to the tent. "Wasn't that long, was it?"

Anton saw nothing on her face that even hinted at what she had just said. Anton looked back to the thick tents, another couple were entering while a larger Nomad, his large physique clear even underneath the loose clothes, stood guard.

Not my idea of a place to bed someone. Especially when someone else has just finished using it. I haven’t heard of any sexually transmitted disease, then again I haven’t been looking for them either.

Bedes ignored it, thanks to a gentle push from the two women, and directed them to the nearest kitchen. A small line of people had gathered, thin wooden plates and bowls in their hands.

"Strange this is the first thing that I've seen that isn't communal," Anton mumbled.

"One cannot survive in the desert by being greedy," Zuhura said calmly. "Everything must be used as much as possible, to save wastage and weight. However, we still do have a few things to ourselves."

"A better bed would be nice," Calo mumbled. "Something that lets you wiggle in the night without feeling the wood underneath."

"That would be nice." Sheso slowly nodded. "A few extra sheets would do."

"I'll talk to Dad." Bedes smiled at the twins. "He might be able to help."

As they approached the rear of the line a man waved them to one side and to the front.

I doubt this treatment is for all guests of the Nomads. I did offer to heal anyone that was badly hurt. And it stands to reason that you can't do that on an empty stomach.

Anton flashed a faint smile at those they passed, to try and convey they were not arrogantly pushing their way to the front, not that the Nomads appeared to mind. They were offered bowls and quickly given their breakfast, a selection of hard fruits, cheeses and a small amount of cooked meat.

"Is this made from camel milk?" Anton pressed onto the hard cheese. When he looked up he saw the Nomad women, all of the servers were women, appearing rather apprehensive. "It smells good. I'm not criticizing, just curious."

"It is." The closest woman smiled beneath her veil. "We collect it during the day and let it mature as we travel."

Anton noticed they had slight orange stains on their clothes, yet he had not seen any orange leafed plants in the oasis.

"Thank you very much." Anton smiled.

The others gave their thanks and moved away. They followed Bedes and his minders to a type of sitting area, with raised wooden seats above the grass, overlooking the nearest of the small pools. Women and children were already collecting water, none were bathing. Anton reasoned that it would be very disrespectful to pollute such waters.

Bedes pointed to a cluster of chairs that were unoccupied. He quickly claimed his, the two women sat either side while Anton sat opposite. The Nomad women removed their veils, they were certainly beautiful, and began to eat with their fingers.

"Can you use magic?" Bedes asked the moment Anton sat, almost spraying food from his mouth. One of the Nomad women produced a cloth and wiped his face whilst looking slightly annoyed.

"I am. That's how I was able to heal your illness."

"I've never seen one before." Bedes quickly turned his attention to Mezot and Axia. "Why don't you have a staff and they don't?"

Even though Mezot was in the middle of eating her face came alive at the prospect of discussing magic. Axia gently placed a hand on hers, which relaxed her mood slightly.

"I am...Different to them." Anton smiled as he ate the strong smelling but pleasantly flavoured cheese. "I come at magic from a different angle, if that makes any sense. It means I can do things they can't without a very long time training."

"Like what?"

"Axia." Anton nodded towards her, Axia raised a blonde brow as she continued eating. "Has been a student for some time. How many winters has it been?"

"Most of my life." Axia smiled. "My first memories are in the Royal Academy."

"Wow. Can I become a mage?" Bedes placed the plate of food to one side before leaping forward. "I could do all sorts of amazing things, like big balls of fire?"

Bedes began to act out as if his hands could shoot fireballs. The two Nomad women merely smiled as his energetic display.

"Like that?"

"You would have an exceptionally difficult time doing anything like that in these lands." Anton created a small Fire Bomb above his hand. "There is something that suppresses mana and our ability to use it. Do any of you know why that might be?"

Bedes shook his head. The two shared a look before slowly shaking their heads.

"We have never seen a Mage before." One began. "I have never heard of this before. Perhaps you should ask Temur, or one of the other Elders. Perhaps they might know more?"

"I haven't asked him yet but I will. But it's not like we're completely useless." Anton began to summon a Small Lightning Crow. The bright blue disk and ring elicited surprised looks, even from Zuhura. "I can still do this, relatively easily."

Still uses a hell of a lot more mana than it should. But, like Hazm said, no one here is really ready for something like this.

The Small Lightning Crow emerged from the disk and dropped onto his hand. Bedes hesitantly reached out to touch the creature, it didn't mind either way but his minders were very worried. His fingers touched the birds head, it began to lightly squawk but not unpleasantly.

“It’s really soft.” Bedes chuckled. “Really soft.”

“That he is.” Anton gently stroked the Lightning Crow’s back. “But he can do more than that.”

Anton raised his hands high and ordered the Lightning Crow to fly as high as it could. The creature squawked once and darted into the sky. Everyone stopped and watched the creature fly so high until he was nothing more than a small speck in the clear blue sky.

“That’s…” Bedes frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Anton frowned, he was smiling as he watched the Lightning Crow in the sky. Bedes was looking at Mezot. She stared at the south, her brows furrowed deeply in an unnatural display.

“Something’s wrong.” Mezot muttered. “Something is happening to the south. Something is happening…”

“I thought I could sense something.” Axia murmured.

“I would like to know exactly what you two are feeling.” Anton murmured.

He quickly finished his meal. Cetina, Calo and Sheso had already finished and readied their weapons. Bedes looked very surprised, the Nomad women, for some reason, gave them angry stares.

“You two can glare all you want.” Anton said harshly. “But you’ll be thanking us when they’re the only thing between you and death.”

The two shared a glance but only softened their anger somewhat.

“What do you think is happening?” Anton asked.

He ordered the Small Lightning Crow to observe the south. He could not see exactly what the creature could but when it returned to him he could understand what it saw.

Maybe that’s the sort of thing Mezot and Axia are feeling.

As the Lightning Crow returned Mezot reached for her staff and Charm. She held it tight against her chest.

“Someone is using magic.” She pointed to the dunes and mountains beyond the oasis. “Over there...Can you...No. You can’t tell.” Mezot coughed lightly. “That mountain. Magic is being used right now.”

“Bad?” Anton held his hand out for the bird. “It’s...It’s saying several hundred well-armed soldiers are waiting behind that dune. Wearing...Yellow clothes?”

“Bright yellow?” One of the Nomad women jumped to her feet, her plate loudly dropping to the ground. “What else do they wear?”

“It’s a little tricky to say with this. It’s not a perfect...answer. But I think they were wearing pointed metal helmets. Three points-”

The woman ran away, leaving Bedes in a state of shock. He turned to the one that remained behind.

“What-”

“We need to raise the alarm.” The remaining Nomad Woman said. She rose up, though delicately placed the plates to one side. “Please look after him. We cannot let ourselves be caught by them again.”

“And who are they?” Anton asked, reaching out and stopping her as she ran past. “You need to tell us.”

“The Sana Vākara.” She winced and pulled her arm free. “They’re about to attack us.”

Quickly the alarm was spreading through the camp. Women and children began to flee for safety while the men frantically tried to ready themselves for battle.

“How do you know this isn’t some ridiculous trick?”

“Temur said you’ve never been in the desert before. It would be impossible for you to know of them.”

I could have asked Zuhura. You seem to forget that she is a Nomad, technically.

She gave a tiny nod towards Bedes before running into the camp.

“Better stay with us.” Anton said softly. “There’s no way they’re going to get through us.”

“Do you know anything about these Sana Vākara?” Cetina asked. She began ushering them towards the south, towards the rolling dunes. Anton wanted to enhance his vision but did not want to risk the extreme use of magic.

“Um…” Bedes rubbed his temples hard. “I know they are bad people. Really bad people. Dad doesn’t like them and I don’t think any of the others do either.”

“But why would they want to attack you?” Cetina asked.

I hope it isn’t because of us. Doubtful, since they’d have been lying in wait near the Oasis. That’s the problem with the desert, you know where your prey has to go to resupply.

“I don’t know.” Bedes shook his head. He reached for Anton’s arm. “Are we going to be alright?”

“Of course we are.” Anton smiled. “We’ll show these fanatics just how dangerous mages can be.”

---[]---

Anton frowned as he stood at the top of one of the other Elder’s Sleds, camped at the most southern point of the oasis. “You don’t think everyone running around has alerted them?”

“Probably.” The Elder woman, the one that offered Anton a chance to smoke, shrugged lightly. “There’s no way they wouldn’t now know. But what else are we to do?”

“Are you in range, Mezot?” Anton asked.

Mezot glanced at her Charm. “I...No. I’m too far away. Do you want me to attack them? They haven’t done anything yet.”

The Elder scoffed. “They’ll attack. They don’t have much of a choice.”

“What do-”

A horn emanated from the Nomad Camp. Nomads charged out of the camp riding camels, wearing light armour while the Nomads wielded long lances made from bone and tipped with steel.

“Where do you find such long bones?” Anton asked. “I haven’t seen any creatures so far, just endless deserts and the odd mountain village.”

The Elder smiled. “We’ll be reaching the graveyard in the next few days. You’ll see everything you need then.”

Anton turned back to the charging nomads. The Camels were not as fast as horses on an open field but they were not slowed by the presence of sand. Great plumes followed their hooves but the Camels were not as tame or obedient as a horse, the Nomads had to continuously flog the Camels’ behind to get them to move in a straight line with any modicum of speed. Those that didn’t quickly found themselves falling behind and had to whip their mounts harshly just to catch up.

They began to reach the dune where the Sana Vākara were supposedly hiding. Though Anton trusted Mezot and Axia, as well as he own summon silently perched on his shoulder, a niggle of doubt lingered in the back of his mind.

The air at the top of the dunes shimmered violently, beyond heat rising from the sand, as people began to emerge through. Wearing bright yellow, with three pointed helmets, they stood at the very top of the dune with large crossbows and metal pikes, all pointing at the charging Nomads.

Shit. They’ve got a lot more firepower than the Nomads. They won’t stand a chance.

“Mezot? Can you cast something in front of them? It doesn’t have to reach those Sana Vākara’s but it just needs to stop their charge.”

“It’s at the limit, but I think I can.” Mezot nodded and gripped her staff tight.

Her lips twitched as she chanted a long spell. The gemstones on her charm, still hidden beneath the cloth, glowed bright.

“Tell them to get-” Mezot grit her teeth and slammed the butt of her staff onto the ground. She let out a gasp, like her slamming the staff down was involuntary, trying to hold back a sneeze but could no longer.

“Tell them to come back!” The Elder woman barked at a nearby Nomad.

He had a small horn pressed against his lips, ready for an order. He blew four short burst, the Nomad Camel Riders began to turn. For a brief moment Anton pondered on just how inefficient this system was, with multiple people able to issue orders.

A giant of a man emerged through the shimmering air, easily taller than Cetina, and raised his hand, ready to throw it down and order the hundreds of crossbowmen to fire at the exposed Camel’s rears. The mask twitched up, his hand hovered, as a white mist descended over the sand between them and the retreating camels. Despite the distance Anton heard the creaking of ice as the mist descended and obscured everything.

“I-”

Mezot’s body began to crumple. Anton grabbed her and her staff, holding her weight against him. She looked at him as he slowly and gently lowered her to the ground.

“I used up more mana than I thought.” Mezot smiled at Anton, small beads of sweat were already forming on her forehead. “I can do it again, if you want me to.”

“Just rest for now.” Anton hugged her head. He smiled when he released her and her face was even redder. “Axia? Can you keep an eye on her, please? We might need to move in a hurry and-”

“I’m fine!” Mezot shrugged off her own daughter's hand. Axia stepped back as she rose to her feet, using the staff to support her weight as she stared into Anton’s eyes. “I was just surprised at how much mana I used. I can fight.”

Anton gave a curt nod. “Don’t overdo it. I don’t want one of my Mages passing out from using too much mana. Understood?”

Mezot took a deep breath and looked towards the receding white mist. Anton took that as a yes. When the mist completely vanished the Nomads gasped and shouted words of surprise and awe. A wall of ice now stood halfway up the sand dune, Anton could just see through the heavily frosted ice that the Sana Vākara were just as stunned by the presence of magic.

“Who is actually in command of your warriors?” Anton asked. “It is utterly ridiculous to have multiple people commanding…” He looked to the nearest Sled and saw another Elder, a trumpeter by his side and ready to issue an order. “There’s no way you can fight like this.”

“It has worked for us for generations.” The Elder woman shrugged. “But I didn’t just give an order. I told the Camel Riders that if they did not retreat they would be killed.”

“I…” Anton did not have the energy to respond. The Nomad Tribes military organization was not his issue.

Guess they act independently, only responding to orders if they want to. It wouldn’t work against a determined foe, or...Someone with rifles.

The Nomad Camel Riders streamed past the outer tents and into the camp itself. They were replaced by foot soldiers, like those that had guarded the Elder’s tents, lightly armed and armored but with thick shields.

They’ll stop arrows and bolts but are still light. It’s not a bad equipment for the desert.

Some of the Nomads began to organize the foot soldiers, they had grey hair and deeply weathered skin, it only reinforced Anton’s perception of the loosely organized Nomad forces.

“Now what?” Anton asked.

“The Ice isn’t particularly thick.” Mezot leant against the railing. “They could smash through it easily if they tried.”

Anton saw the pike wielding Sana Vākara’s approach the ice wall. The large man waved his hands and pike tips pierced through the ice. It was only a few inches thick but it was enough to buy them time.

“Ice Wall,” Mezot said softly. “It’s a basic Ice Magic…” She took a deep breath, Axia held her hand as Mezot tapped her feet. “But I used a lot more mana than normal.”

“You always manage to impress me, Mezot.” Anton gently patted her head. “Always.”

Mezot bit her lips as she averted her eyes.

“We have archers-”

The Elder Woman was interrupted by another blow of the horn. This time it came from the Sana Vākara. The pikes smashed their way through the ice and broke the wall. Thankfully it had lured them out of whatever was hiding them. Anton presumed there were five to six hundred.

“That’s a fair few,” Anton mumbled. “But it’s not going to be a problem for us. We just need to lure them a little closer-”

“I can do it.” Mezot tapped her staff. “I still have a lot of magic left.”

“Anton can do the rest.” Axia pulled a worried face. “He hasn’t used any magic yet, so leave it to him.”

“I’ll be fine.” Mezot smiled at her daughter. “I’ll be fine. I want this chance to show just how strong I am.”

“You did more than enough at the Lumber Mill,” Cetina said softly. “It was some of the most powerful magic I’ve ever seen.”

She threw Anton a glance, Anton was not offended to know there was someone with greater magical skill than him.

“I spent most of my mana maintaining the Icicle Tempest.” Mezot turned to the Sana Vākara. “But I have something…I’m sorry, Anton.” Mezot winced. “I’ve kept something from you. I know one more magic more powerful than Icicle Tempest.”

If I recall correctly, you asked if you could use some of your more powerful magic. So I’m not surprised you know still have something hidden away.

“I’m not mad,” Anton said. “Far from it. But…”

The Sana Vākara’s pushed their way through the remains of the Ice Wall and were rapidly approaching. The pikes had been dropped and replaced with spears and large shields, the crossbowmen retained their weapons. Slowly they advanced on the camp, in a tight formation to deal with any Camel charge and their shields raised. Some brave Nomad loosed an arrow. It landed in the center of one of their shields, there was almost no gap in their formation so arrows were just a waste of time and effort.

“I...How flammable are those tents?” Anton asked. “I don’t think you would survive in the desert if they were destroyed.”

“I-”

“I can defeat them,” Mezot spoke with a rare level of confidence. “I want to do it.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself.” Anton gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t hurt yourself just because you want to impress us...If you can, try and leave that big one alive. Kill everyone else.”

Mezot closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can do that.”

Mezot began to mumble under her breath. Cetina tapped on Anton’s shoulder and pointed to the Sana Vākara. The large commander, at least Anton presumed he was, was shouting orders but could not hear them.

“Cetina? Shake me if something’s about to happen. I won’t be able to tell.”

“Right.” Cetina held his shoulder tight.

Anton enhanced his vision and sight. The commander was much larger than he first thought, though his clothes were loose they covered large muscles and, unlike the others, he carried a mace easily as large as Axia.

“Do not tally, you worms.” He snarled beneath his metal helmet. Through the tiny gaps in his helmet, Anton saw the horribly scarred and burned skin beneath. “Amurka protects us! Their artefacts are weak, they missed their chance to use Irilik's Breath and cannot use it for another day.”

Is that what they’re using to conceal themselves? In these lands, not knowing what magic is, it could easily start a religion...Could they be buying stuff from foreign lands and palming them off as divine? I’m sure that has never happened before…

The commander looked to the rear. “Hurry up and bring the Cloak of The Sun forward! I don’t want them to charge and know where we are. None of you bastards are dying under my command except by my mace!”

Is that caring or genuine hatred?

The shimmering air descended along the frozen dunes and began to swallow the rear of the Sana Vākara’s lines.

“Now or never, Mezot.” Anton removed his enhancements. “If that field reaches the front we’ll have no idea where they are.”

Actually, it might not work from above, but how many foes do they have to fight that have flying mounts, or bombers?

Mezot’s whispers increased in pace as shimmering air reached halfway point of the Sana Vākara force. Anton readied his own magic, as many tethered Flame Pillars as he dared, but Mezot finished her spell. The Charm glowed unimaginably bright before dimming nearly instantly. Mezot coughed harshly and threatened to fall forward. Again Anton held her, along with Axia while Cetina held her staff. Calo and Sheso looked on with worry, unable to do anything.

“Too much…”

“That was really foolish of you.” Anton healed her, taking a considerable amount of mana. “I should have just used mine.”

“I returned to the deeper sections of the library after you left.” Mezot smiled. “I...I found a book.”

The air above began to turn white above the Sana Vākara. Anton’s heart dropped, thinking about the portal that brought the Beast-kin to this world.

“A book of Ice Magic, one I’ve never seen before. It taught me...Things.” Mezot pressed her weight onto the railing. “It doesn’t use much mana as a single barrage of Icicle Tempest but it normally takes five Mages, but...I thought I could do it on my own. It...Was a lot harder than I thought. I felt my lungs burn and I couldn’t stop-”

Anton gently slapped the back of her head. “And if you’d been killed…”

Mezot said nothing, it looked like she didn’t even notice his light strike, and watched the glowing light with excitement. Out of the white light, five concentric circles emerged, each with interweaving mathematical symbols synonymous with Principle Magic. Snowflakes rained down from between the circles. For a moment Anton thought Mezot had just tried to summon a creature but the circles did not spin. The Sana Vākara stopped and looked up. Their Commander began to order them to retreat but he could not. From the ground a thick sheet of ice surrounded him like a hollow cylinder, freezing those nearby inside the ice, some partially. The Commander tried to smash his way out but could not break the ice.

Anton was almost disappointed when the white disks disappeared. So too were the Sun Walkers. Immediately they turned to freeing their commander, ignoring the changing sands beneath their feet. In a second the ground erupted in ice spikes, covering nearly a hundred meters around the imprisoned Commander. The Sun Walkers were torn apart and thrown into the air, screaming as they flailed wildly as they approached the sharp ice spikes. Anton heard winces as they died on the ice.

“Frost Cage.” Mezot breathed heavily. Her eyes were barely staying open. “Surrounds a target and destroys everything around it.”

“Very powerful.” Anton shook his head. “But I could have done something like that without having to risk yourself so much.”

Mezot looked at him confused. “But you said you wanted the Commander alive? I’ve talked to Verona about what you can do...And I don’t think you could.”

Cetina raised a brow. Again Anton was not offended, rather he was a little happy that Mezot was taking the initiative to learn about others, though it was only regarding magic.

“When will that magic disappear?” The Elder Woman asked. “How-”

“Who did that?!” A voice shouted from below. “Was it our guest?!”

Anton looked below and the Nomad Warriors were looking up at them in a mixture of awe. Their weapons hung loosely by their sides.

“It was Mezot!” Anton shouted down. “She was the one to do this. One woman was able to kill hundreds of your foes with barely lifting a finger.”

The warriors started muttering amongst themselves. Quickly they began to chant, only a single word as they thrust their weapons into the air.

“Mezot! Mezot! Mezot!” They chanted, quickly spreading throughout the camp.

“Is…” Mezot looked at Anton, a deep frown on her face. “Is that for me? Are they thanking me?”

Anton tried with all his might to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Of course they are.” He gently rubbed her back. “Do you know anyone else called Mezot?”

Mezot turned to her daughter. Axia smiled and gave her two thumbs up. Mezot smiled at her then to Anton. Never before had she received such acclaim or applause, and it was from people that seemingly hated women in the front line. Zuhura, silently standing at the rear, motioned for Mezot to wave at the chanting warriors. Mezot raised a shaky hand and waved. The chants grew even louder, interwoven with chants and shouts that Anton did not understand.

“Now what do I do?” Mezot chuckled nervously. “I’ve...Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

“Bask in it for just a little bit.” Anton smiled. Everyone around him nodded seriously. “You’ve earned it.”

Mezot continued to wave, enjoying the unrepentant adoration.

---[]---

The Sana Vākara Commander grunted as he was thrown before the Tribal Elders, bound, bloodied, beaten and stripped of his armour. His face was indeed heavily burned but only the front of his face, suspiciously stopping at his chin and just before his ear. It looked quite deliberate.

“Wretched Kafir.” The Commander spat on the carpet. “You and your kind deny Amurka’s blessing and wallow in your blasphemy. Walking through his lands without offering your blood or toil. You are not deserving of your life.”

Anton shook his head, glancing at Zuhura. “You weren’t kidding when you said they were crazy.”

Zuhura glumly nodded. “They are.” She looked at the Nomad Elders, standing well back from the prone Sana Vākara Commander. “But this is one of the most extreme I’ve ever seen. To burn your skin is to show devotion to Amurka. The more you burn, and the more prominent, the higher your devotion.”

The Commander turned to them but Anton did not even have pity or anger for the man. He quickly turned away and back to the Nomad Elders when he realized there was nothing for him to gain.

“Fascinating.”

Anton glanced at Mezot. She was doing well, considering that she had all but depleted herself of mana. She stared blankly ahead, like she had literally drained all of the strength from her body. Which she had, in a sense. It could have been what happened to a Principle Mage but he didn’t like it either way. His other companions stood with her, except for Cetina and Zuhura, who stood by his side.

“What are you going to do with him?” Anton asked loudly. “If you’re just going to kill him I want to know about the artefact he used.”

He waited until the muttering Nomad Elders stopped talking, led by Temur, and paid him their full attention.

“He claimed Mezot’s magic came from something called Irilik’s Breath. I wish to know more about what he used.”

The Commander tried to spit at Anton but it stopped short of his boots. Cetina growled at the man, he was not intimidated but he didn’t know just how strong Mezot was.

“Do…” Temur rubbed his beard. “Do we actually want him?”

“We could trade him for resources from the Sana Vākara.” An Elder offered. “Think of the money and materials we could get. All the wood we could possibly want, even-”

“Wood?” Another Elder scoffed. “They could have killed us all and you want some trees?”

“They’re very difficult for us to acquire.” The first Elder mumbled softly. “We need to repair some of the sleds, the wood is starting to break from dry rot. We-”

A female Elder raised her hand. “You’re forgetting the most important thing. We’ve finally worked out how these things are able to attack the Tribes and get away with it.”

“Is this a common thing?” Anton asked. “Nomad Tribes being attacked?”

“Not really.” Temur sighed. “But it does happen, from time to time. But they’ve always said the attack seemingly comes from nowhere, regardless of how many scouts they have.”

“Lucky that you have two Principle Mages with you.” Anton nodded to Mezot and Axia. “Otherwise you’d have been a victim of...Whatever this man wanted to do with them.”

“Your children are innocent-”

Anton saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He thought Mezot was running at the Commander but he saw a flash of blue. Zuhura. She ran past Anton and kicked him with all her might, her soft boot striking his head. The Commander laughed as she continued to kick him, though she was using every ounce of strength he simply ignored it.

“Little bitch.” The Commander laughed as he rolled onto his side. “Is that the best that you can do?”

Zuhura snarled and drew the small blade from her sleeve. Now the Commander looked a little concerned. Anton lunged forward and grabbed her arm. She glared at him and continued to try and stab the Sana Vākara. Anton was much stronger and wrestled the blade from her hands. Zuhura glared once again, muttered something under her breath and stormed back to the others. Cetina kept her within her sight as the Nomad Elders slowly returned to their bickering.

Zuhura’s old enough to have had a child...Or at the very least witness something terrible.

“Stupid girl.” The Commander shook his head. “Women-”

Anton loosed a small lightning bolt into his leg. He screamed as his body spasmed.

“Shut the fuck up.” Anton kicked his head with all his might. The soft boot connected with his nose and it cracked. Now the Commander cried out in true pain. “You’re just lucky that she didn’t hit you properly. Or try and poke your eyes out.”

“Fuck that hurts!” He tried to hold his bloody nose but could not. “Hereti-”

Anton kicked him again. This time he did not speak again, even as the blood poured out from his face.

“Are you going to be a good boy now?” Anton asked.

The Commander bared his teeth but slowly nodded when Anton threatened to kick him again. Cetina arrived at his side, along with Calo and Sheso, all three had their weapons drawn. The Commander was off-put by the presence of women with weapons.

“Where is the artefact that allowed you to hide, like you disappeared in a veil of shimmering heat. Where is it?”

“How should I know?” The Commander spat out another wad of blood. “You put me into the Irilik’s Cage, then dragged me here when you smashed it down. How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

Anton flexed his hands. “I should have just done this rather than waste my breath.”

He signaled for the three to ready their weapons as Anton stepped around and held the back of his head. The Nomad Elders stopped talking and watched him as he chanted a Truth Prayer. Anton asked the question but the man did not know where the artefact was. Anton smiled and shook his head.

“You honestly don’t. But that’s alright. We can search the desert again. What does Amurka’s Cloak, or whatever you called it, look like?”

The Commander struggled against the magic but, as ever, no one could resist its compulsion.

“Amurka’s Cloak is a large black box with gold lines over its exterior, each corner is tipped with gold and has a small red gemstone in the middle.” He slammed his face into the floor. “Fuck your accursed abilities. How did Irilk bless you with such strength?”

The Commander’s eyes almost wept. “How? I have sacrificed so many in Amurka’s name and I have not been blessed like so many have.”

Anton almost felt a moment of pity. Almost.

“You burned yourself so you could gain these powers?”

“Yes…”

“These...Blessings. How do they manifest?” Anton knew he still held the back of the Commander’s head.

“Like the lightning you struck me with.” The Commander did not seem to notice or care that his words were being compelled. “They beseech Amurka for fire or light and it comes to them, whatever they asked…”

“Did they ever have something like a metal disk on them?” Anton nodded to Mezot and Axia. “Something like those?”

The Commander’s eyes narrowed. “I...I saw one of the priests with something like that. Why? Is that what you need to receive a god’s blessing? Give it to me!”

He tried to stand, Cetina but a boot in his chest, hard.

“Don’t be stupid.” Cetina shook her head. “You’re already in a lot of trouble. Better not make it worse for yourself.”

The Commander scowled but did not fight again.

“It’s alright.” Anton removed his hand. “But I think you were duped. It’s not surprising, actually. You’ve never seen magic before. Do you even know what it is?”

The Commander frowned but said nothing.

“You, and most of your...Order, or whatever you would call yourselves.” Anton took a deep breath. “They tricked and enthralled you with displays of Principle Magic. Those artefacts, of Amurka or Irilik or whatever, are just Principle magical devices. That’s why they activate when you touched the gemstone, not whether or not you were devout. That’s not something divine, just a magical artefact you could buy in Graterious or Bebbezzar with enough money.”

Anton did not know if one actually could but it had a terrible effect on the Sun Walker Commander. His body lost its strength, the realization that he was being tricked sapped his strength.

“Then let me...” The Commander frowned. “Zaffar. That bastard. He was controlling Amurka’s Veil.”

“And was he killed by the ice?”

“How should I know?” The anger returned to his face. “You put me in that Ice...When I find him I’ll find out the truth.”

“Truth?” Calo asked softly.

“If you’re talking shit or not.” The Commander shuffled on his side. “Or if you’re nothing more than filthy Kafirs!”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” Anton said. The Commander looked puzzled at him. “We’ll find his body and the artefact. But that’s our problem. They are your problem.”

Anton pointed to the Nomad Elders. They had finished speaking amongst themselves, clearly they had come to a decision.

“If we ransom him,” One of the quiet Elders began to speak. “He will tell the Sana Vākaras and their Fanatics what happened here. About us...And our guests. There will be no end of this if they receive word of this. So…"

Realization washed over the Sun Walker Commander. “You can’t do this to me! I am not someone that you can just barter-”

Anton lightly kicked his rear. “I think you should understand what’s about to happen to you.”

---[]---

“Stop this!” The Sana Vākara Commander yelled again. “You Kafir’s dare to touch me?! You dare to touch my sacred skin!”

Cetina leant close to Anton. “Looks like he doesn’t care about his life potentially being a lie anymore.”

“We cling to our past when we’re facing our death.” Anton softly replied. “At least that’s what I think we do. I hope to never be in such a position.”

The Sana Vākara Commander thrashed and raged against his bonds. Eight Nomad Warriors were required to properly restrain the giant of a man. He had been stripped down to his underwear, a simple loincloth, to reveal an incredibly muscular body. Most of the Nomads were lean so he was quite the monster for them. Nevertheless, they were able to corral him towards one of the smaller oasis pools. Hundreds upon hundreds of Nomads, men, women and children, had gathered to watch the spectacle.

“How are they going to kill him?” Sheso asked. “There are simpler ways than...Whatever it is they’re doing here.”

“A knife works extremely well.” Calo added. They stood behind Anton, along with Mezot and Axia, Mezot appeared to be a little better, while Cetina and Zuhura stood beside them. Zuhura had said nothing regarding her outburst but none had inquired.

There are only a few possibilities after all. No one has that much rage for no reason, for a woman to use a weapon before the Nomad Elders…

An elder moved to the highest of the rocks surrounding the oasis and the crowds dimmed to a whisper.

“Sana Vākara!” The Elder’s voice was not particularly loud but the silence of the crowds amplified its effect. “You threatened our tribe, for your despicable fanatical faith, to raid us for spoils of war, for resources and our people. For that you are sentenced to death by drowning.”

The Nomads cheered, the Sana Vākara Commander tried to rage once more. The eight Nomads began to drag him away from the oasis, towards the west of the camp.

“Why…” Anton tilted and scratched his head. “Why did they bring him here? Just to lead him away?”

“Water is sacred to us.” Zuhura said loudly. “Do you think they would pollute an oasis with his body?”

“No. I suppose not.” Anton retained his frown. “But...Are they going to drown him in sand?”

Zuhura looked to the dunes. “That...That would be interesting.”

The Nomads surged along with the captive Sana Vākara Commander. Anton followed, as he was curious to see what they were going to do. He moved to a nearby Sled, the Weevil sleeping silently and ignoring the ruckus. The guards barely glanced at them before stepping aside, even though they were nor Temur’s.

“Do we really want to watch this?” Cetina asked. “He’s going to die no matter what. Why does it matter how?”

“I’m just curious,” Anton said. “But once that’s done we want to find that artefact. Mezot? How much do you know about…”

Mezot was still in a slight daze. She blinked once and her eyes focused once more.

“Once we all calm down we’ll get you a Karak fruit. That should help.”

“A what?” Mezot frowned.

“A fruit that restores mana,” Cetina said as she led the way to a vantage point on the Sled. “That’s what Kal told me it was. Not much use for someone like me to eat it.”

“You never told me about this.” Mezot smiled.

“They’re still in Atros.” Anton reached the railing. “But they’re a lot better than potions. Now...Where is that man?”

The Sana Vākara Commander now stood just before the snow still affected by Cetina’s Ice Magic. As the sun continued to rise, as did the heat, the ice was beginning to melt away, leaving the edges as wet sand. The center was still covered with the ice spikes, stained with blood and bodies with a small path carved through to the broken cylinder at the center.

“Just let me wander in the desert without food or water!” The Sana Vākara Commander shouted. “Far more simple than whatever stupid thing you Kafir’s have planned!”

Hundreds of rocks flew at his head. Most missed but those that connected hit hard. Those restraining him shouted and ordered them to stop, it took almost half a minute for the last of the stones to stop.

An older Nomad brought out a large box and another an even larger water skin. The Sana Vākara Commander kicked and struggled but was forced to kneel. The box was opened and separated into two halves, both with a circle cut out on opposite ends. They wrapped a thick piece of white cloth around his neck, covered it in a yellow liquid and fastened the box around his head. His desperate screams and pleas fell on deaf ears. He tried again to break free but the Nomads did not let him get far. His box covered head crashed onto the sand but did not come free, the eight Nomads lifted him back up without worrying about the positioning of the box.

“Oh.” Anton covered his mouth. “I understand now.”

His words were, perhaps, a little redundant, as everyone else had come to the same conclusion. He was held still and water poured into the box and sealed it with a circular piece of wood covered in the yellow liquid. The Sana Vākara Commander was freed of his bonds and allowed to thrash about violently as he desperately clawed at the box. His fingers desperately pried at the cloth around his neck, desperate to make a hole and drain the water. Blood and flesh covered his fingers but he could not make a hole. All of the Nomads watched in silence as the thrashing slowly ebbed. Finally the Sana Vākara Commander stopped struggling and fell over, throwing up a small plume of sand around his body.

“That’s pretty harsh.” Calo didn’t know what type of expression to make. “I think a knife would have been better.”

“But it sends a message,” Anton said softly. “The Nomads here will tell others. I doubt this is something they do regularly.”

A Nomad checked his body, gave a curt nod to the crowd and slowly they began to disperse, leaving the half-naked man to lie in the sand with the box still on his head.

“Wow.” Anton shook his head. “They really want to make a statement with that. I wonder if the Sana Vākara will try and come through here, looking for their missing soldiers. Just to find...Him.”

Anton turned away and summoned three Small Lightning Crows and threw them into the air. “Now, let’s find this Amurka’s Veil.”

---[]---

Mezot bit onto the large Karak Fruit. She cared not for how many of the Nomads were watching them as they stood in the open space in the camp. Immediately her eyes widened as energy returned to her body.

“I didn’t know there was a fruit that could restore your mana.” Mezot continued to nibble on the fruit, now like a hungry rabbit. “It’s good too. Far better than any potions I’ve ever had.”

“A…” Anton glanced at Cetina. “A witch planted it in Atros about forty or fifty winters ago. It produces a lot of fruit but we’re having trouble getting new ones to grow. But that’s another problem for another time. Right now we have this.”

Amurka’s Veil, or whatever the magical device was actually called, was significantly larger than he had first thought. The black box, with its gold trim and edges, and its red gemstone at the center, was the size of a small table rather than something handheld, like Anton had first expected. The Small Lightning Crows had managed to spot something half-submerged in the desert sands that was not visible from ground level. After asking some Nomad Camel Riders to investigate they found the device. They also discovered two dead Sana Vākara, not killed by Mezot’s magic but from being submerged in sand. Part of the dune had collapsed and covered them in several feet of sand, crushing their lungs in an extremely unpleasant death. Anton pushed such thoughts aside as he looked at the prize.

“This is ours, by the way.” Anton glanced at Temur. “Payment for dealing with the Sana Vākara.”

Temur smiled and raised both of his hands. “Please. By all means, take it. We have no use of it.”

“I’m sure you could sell it,” Anton said idly. Bedes approached the large black box, his minders quickly pulled him back. “I’m sure it’s safe to the touch. The Sana Vākara wouldn’t have used it if...Oh. They might have still used it even if it shaved off your live with every activation.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Temur softly replied.

Sheso ran her hand over the edge, following the golden line. “Imagine this at…” She glanced at Temur. “Home. One of these, if it could cover Atros. Nothing would know that we were there.”

“It’s certainly a good idea.” Anton slowly nodded. “Not even having to fire a single arrow. So long as we can work out how this thing actually works.”

Axia shrugged and tapped the red crystal with the butt of her staff. The golden lines glowed and a wave of distortion washed over Anton’s vision, like he was staring through extremely hot air. It was gone the next moment.

“I meant more than that.” Anton shook his head at Axia. “Like how it actually works.”

“I know.” Axia smiled at Anton.

Mezot, having finished the Karak Fruit, held her staff in her hands and approached the device. As she studied the lines Anton heard shouts from the Nomads around them. Like a wave radiating out from the black box they began to look around in surprise, those behind them stopped and stared until they too were hit by the wave of distortion. Once inside they could see normally and carried on with their day, thinking it had been just their imagination.

“Looks like it stopped.” Calo held a hand to her brow. “About two hundred yards away.”

“That’s pretty far.” Anton stood behind Calo and looked over her head. “You’re right, it doesn’t appear to be going any further.”

The Nomads walking by stopped and stared at the distorted air. Anton did not know what they were seeing, probably that half of their camp had simply vanished behind the shimmering air. Some stuck their heads through and realized what was happening, there were also Nomads nearby to tell them everything was fine.

“If only we could make it cover a city.” Anton turned back to the box. “Then it would be unimaginably useful.”

Mezot continued to gently run her hands along the black surface, her fingers following the golden lines as they travelled along the sides.

“Anything, Mezot?”

Mezot did not reply, she looked like she was lost in one of her trances, and tapped the red crystal with her finger. The light dimmed on the artefact and the distorted light and air washed over them from behind and into the red gemstone.

“Mezot?”

Anton moved to her side. He looked back, Cetina and Axia shrugged while Zuhura looked on blankly. He nudged her side, Mezot twitched and realized he was there.

“Have you found anything?”

“Yes.” Mezot smiled and quickly scratched her nose. “I don’t know much about magical constructs, but this is an extremely well built and designed to last.”

“Could you make another one? Or something bigger? I remember you saying that you could make more Charms.”

Mezot nodded. “I can make more charms, though...It will take me some time to make even a Training Charm.” Mezot coughed. “But something like this is beyond me. If...If I were to acquire some books on constructing magical devices I’m sure I could. But we can’t go back…”

Mezot looked to the Nomads nearby. Their cover story was they were researchers from Graterious. If they knew they could not return easily it would throw a huge amount of doubt over their cause.

“To get more books.” Mezot smiled, pulling her staff close to her chest. “Bebbezzar might have something.” She leant around Anton to look at Cetina. “But I don’t know if it’s necessary, or how expensive it will be. I don’t think we have that much money...You have that much money.”

“It’ll be fine.” Anton patted her shoulder. “But I don’t want it to interfere with your other work. Teaching.”

“I understand.”

“But we’ll be keeping this in Temur’s Sled,” Anton said. “We won’t be activating it. If we did I’m sure someone would get rightfully upset. How much longer will we be around this oasis?”

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.” A Nomad said. “The Nomad Elders are certain that Sun Walkers will come looking for their force, sooner or later.”

Anton looked to the west. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out. Probably best just to bury him in the desert.”

“Let’s get this into our room,” Sheso said. “It doesn’t have much use here. Mezot? Did you find anything to say who actually built this?”

Mezot shook her head. “No. No insignias or markings. It was probably built so no one could tell where it came from. Especially…” She looked at Anton. “If they didn’t know this was Principle Magic and not something from the Gods.”

Cetina took one corner, Calo and Sheso the other side while a Nomad helped with the other. As they began to take it away Anton’s thoughts drifted to Zuhura. She still looked rather annoyed, even after the death of the Sana Vākara Commander. Mezot followed the box while Axia walked by Anton’s side as he dropped back to Zuhura.

“Are you feeling better?”

Zuhura looked at him. Her lips quivered beneath her veil.

“I…” Zuhura took a deep breath. “The Sana Vākara are most prominent in the north of Frindal. Their strength relies on the coastal cities and the vast populations...There is an area along the southwestern coast where no cities have been founded. Too dangerous and unstable. It acts as a barrier to their...Conversion.”

Sounds a bit like The Church of The Holy Father. They didn’t...No. They kidnapped children.

“My sister was taken by them.” Zuhura threw Anton a glance, judging him for what type of expression he would show. “I know she’s dead...But I have not forgotten what happened.”

“That man wasn’t the one?” Axia asked softly. “Was it?”

“No.” Zuhura smiled. “And it wasn’t Sultan Hazm or anyone like that. I was very young...But I remember them calling us Kafir, when they held us hostage and forced us to convert. My sister did not and was killed.”

“That…” Anton did not know what to say, or if there was anything to say.

“My father brought our warriors back and killed them. But she was already dead.” Zuhura lightly shrugged. “I just despise them.”

“And yet Hazm tolerated them in his city?” Anton asked.

Zuhura shrugged again. “I know he would love to have them gone. But...But he simply can’t, not without massive issues. He’d likely be killed...There’s nothing he can do. For now.”

“Maybe one day we can interfere with that.” Anton smiled. Zuhura frowned and tilted her head. “I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like that. Though Hazm might not be able to do anything about it right now, perhaps...An Outsider can interfere? So no one has to go through something as horrific as that again.”

Zuhura silently stared at him for some time. Finally she looked forward as a flurry of activity moved past them, men and women carrying foods and fresh fish, some still wiggling.

“What’s happening?” Anton asked.

“A feast!” A young Nomad laughed. “We survived a terrible threat thanks to you, and we didn’t lose anyone! That’s something worth celebrating.”

“At least that’s what the Elders said.” A female Nomad threw her male companion a look. “Any excuse for a chance to eat and drink.”

“You have alcohol?”

“Of course.” The Nomad Woman smiled beneath her veil. “Do you honestly think the Frindal’s don’t drink? They just do it in their homes. Not that we haven’t run into the odd group of people stumbling into our tents. Men and women too…”

“And you’re invited, of course!” The young man nearly tripped on the grass, the woman grabbed his back and nearly fell over herself. “Thanks. But of course you’re coming. You’re the guests of honour.”

“I wonder if Mezot’s going to be the guest of honour?” Anton mused. “Again?”

“Again?” Zuhura asked.

“Again.” Anton smiled. “She’s wined and dined with the Imperial family of Graterious, invited to the debut of the next princess. I’m nowhere near as important as that. I’m lucky to know her, such a powerful Mage.”

“She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen.” Axia smiled wildly. “So much adventure and excitement with you, though I know she would prefer spending all day in her books.”

“Strange that she has come so far…” Zuhura said softly.

“It is.” Anton patted Axia’s head. “Just how well does your mother handle her alcohol anyway?”

Axia only returned a smile.

---[]---

Anton rested against the mast at the top of the Sled as dusk began to settle over the deserts. Beneath the Sled the Nomad festival continued, even though it had been going since midday. Praises had been heaped upon them, Mezot actually, along with offerings of gifts, food and marriage. Anton had intervened when the offers became too aggressive and intrusive. Mezot was very thankful as she did not know what to do with so many people asking her questions. The free flowing alcohol did not help matters, while Cetina did not drink the others did and Anton was more than a little disappointed they were so weak to alcohol. He had them go to bed before something bad happened, he did not trust all of the Nomads, and were currently sleeping beneath him with Cetina standing guard, along with Temur’s warriors on the lower levels with Anton giving them explicit warnings to not let anyone reach them otherwise they would face his and Mezot’s wrath.

Something howled in the distance, coming from the center of Mezot’s handiwork but did not stop the revelry for more than a few seconds. The ice had melted in the snow and had mixed with the sand, along with the blood. Small desert creatures and the Blood Vultures had come to feast on the dead. All eyed each other and the Nomads but were more than content to gore themselves.

I suppose I should head back to Atros for a bit. See how everyone's going there...If only I could split my body and mind. Multiple bodies...That would be incredibly useful.

His thoughts were interrupted by the light footsteps coming up the ramp. Anton was somewhat surprised to see Mezot appear, and no one else.

"A bit more excitement than what you normally had, right?"

Mezot nodded. "Most days I did not get a chance to use any magic." A smile slowly formed. "But with you...I seem to get that chance quite often."

Mezot’s face was slightly reddened by the alcohol. She had partaken very little of the harsh smelling liquid so it had not affected her greatly. Part of him wanted to see how Mezot when she was absolutely inebriated but today was not to be that day. She took a deep breath before sitting next to Anton, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Anton shuffled away an inch to give her some space but Mezot closed the gap instantly. The wind rustled the leaves of the oasis, a few birds were startled and began squawking.

“Thank you, Mezot.” Anton gently placed his hand on Mezot’s head. “You did really well today. If it weren’t for you there could be a lot of dead people. A lot of dead people.”

Mezot slowly nodded. As Anton began to remove his hand she reached back and gripped his wrist tight.

“Okay then.”

Anton continued to gently stroke Mezot’s head. Her breathing began to grow harsher, a slight mist left her flushed lips.

"Cold?" Anton knew that she was not.

Mezot did not answer.

"If it is I've still got some room under this cloak." Anton raised his arm and the cloak. "If-"

Mezot moved closer, but not underneath his arm but onto his lap, facing away. A faint redness crept up her ears.

Every part of her is soft. Her rear, legs and back. Everything...

"If you do something like that to me you know what's going to happen. Right?"

Mezot nodded once and refused to turn around.

“Even if it took...Then I’ll just have to get an answer out of you the old fashioned way.”

Anton grabbed Mezot’s thin waist and spun her around. Her eyes were scrunched tight. Anton poked her nose, only then did she open her eyes.

“You’re a cute and adorable woman.” Anton smiled as he gently held her waist. “Have you ever been told that?”

“No.” Mezot shyly averted her eyes. “No I haven’t...I’ve been called many things but never cute.”

“Then I’ll call you cute as many times as you want.”

Mezot squirmed in his arms.

“Mezot.” Anton waited until she looked at him. “Mezot. I like you, not just as a student and teacher, or travelling companions, but as something more.” Anton held her trembling hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. His other hand gently pushed back her headscarf. “You never doubted me when I said that I could help you, nor flinch or recoil when I showed you my tail and feet. You agreed to help me with my wild plans and even come with me to these strange lands. You are the most interesting Principle Mage I’ve ever met, and I love the way you become so excited by anything related to magic. Not to mention I thought you looked absolutely beautiful in that yellow dress. It was honestly quite hard for me to look away.”

Mezot pursed her lips as she tried to remain calm.

“So...I’ll just outright ask. Will you become mine and join my family for the rest of our days? I promise that I will always be by your side no matter what, never hurt you and will always love you.”

Mezot completely froze. Her eyes locked onto his for almost thirty seconds in perfect silence.

Did I overdo it? I don’t think that Mezot has much experience with men, especially with displays of affection.

Mezot’s head jumped back slightly.

“I…” Mezot blinked. “You...You want me? As a woman?”

Anton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a kiss. Mezot tilted her head up at the last moment and leant up to meet him. To say that Mezot was inexperienced would be an understatement, but she was extremely gentle and willing to follow his lead. Her hands gripped his shirt as she gently whimpered with every touch of his tongue. When Anton parted Mezot gasped for air, her face flushed but not just from embarrassment.

“You do need to breathe.” Anton gently stroked her back. “But does that answer your question?”

Mezot brought a hand to her wet, flushed lips.

“I...Don’t know yet.” Mezot looked away.

Who would have thought that you, of all people, could act coy?

Anton kissed her again, more gently this time. Mezot essentially melted into his arms. Her hands remained on his chest but she started to crawl forward onto his body to where her stomach rested against his bound tail. She pulled her stomach back but did not stop kissing him. Finally they parted. Mezot slowly pushed herself upright.

“Yes…” Mezot smiled faintly as she looked down. “Yes...I do.

Anton quickly kissed Mezot. “I thought you would say that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have sat on my lap, would you?”

Mezot looked away but Anton caught the barest hint of a smile.

“But since you’ve agreed to become a part of my family.” Anton wrapped his arms around Mezot’s waist. A hand reached just above her rear. “There is something that we need to do. Do you know what that is?”

Mezot nodded furiously. “I-I do. I know how it…”

Anton smiled as he gave her rear a gentle squeeze. He stopped, leant to one side and squeezed again. Unlike the others, all of whom were very well built but still soft, Mezot had almost no muscle. To say that his fingers sunk into her flesh like marshmallows was a severe understatement. It was an experience he had never thought possible. His fingers simply sunk into her flesh, yet at no point did it lose its softness or elasticity. Truly, he had discovered something quite incredible. As he continued to massage her rear, gently squeezing, pulling and massaging, Mezot laid her head on his shoulder, softly cooing and whimpering with every movement.

“This...This is a pleasant surprise.” Anton gave her rear a hard squeeze, Mezot jumped slightly, before letting go. “I think I could play with this all day.”

“I thought you preferred…” Mezot looked down at her non-existent chest.

“I do like them.” Anton smiled. “But I like this too.”

Mezot almost rolled her eyes.

“It would be wrong for our first time together to be here.” Anton looked up to the stars. “Though I won’t deny that it’s beautiful tonight. But it really should be in a bed. Somewhere where we can have some privacy.”

“But everyone’s down there.” Mezot’s shoulders dropped slightly. “I don’t know how loud I’ll be. It’s…” Mezot laughed nervously. “It’s been a while.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Anton gently started to rise. He helped Mezot up and kept his hold of her hand. “We have somewhere we can have some privacy. But...You understand that, since I am already with Verona, Kal, Cetina and Rasha…”

Anton shook his head. “If only people from my world could see me now.” He coughed softly. “I cannot just dally with anyone. Not that you’re just anyone.”

“I understand.” Mezot smiled. “But...Does that mean we’re returning to Atros?”

“Absolutely.” Anton began walking towards the ladder. “I want to tell them face to face. Though...For our first time it might just be you and me.”

Mezot’s face reddened but she did not hesitate to follow Anton down.

---[]---

“Not what I was expecting.” Verona, wearing her soft winter night clothes, cracked a smile. They all stood in their home, pleasantly warm compared to the night chill outside. “But I was wondering if you would ever sink your teeth into Mezot.”

“You make it sound like a terrible thing,” Anton replied.

“It’s fine.” Kal, standing next to Verona in her slightly thinner night clothes, smirked and shook her head. “I don’t think Mezot’s going to follow The Rules.”

“Rules?” Mezot asked softly.

“Nothing too serious.” Kal took Mezot’s hand. Mezot almost began to start to inspect her Beast-kin hands. “Basically...Don’t do anything bad. Only with Anton and not trying to stop anyone else...I think you understand.”

Mezot nodded furiously.

“They’re going to be alright over there?” Rasha asked. She wore a thick shirt and shorts, her build meant she didn’t need much else. Sleeping next to her was quite hot. “In case something happens?”

“The twins are more than capable of defending themselves. And the door is locked and barred.”

Cetina nodded. She wore her Frindal clothes, she did not wish to change when she would be returning shortly. “Even if it collapses in a few hits it’ll give them time to escape. If we need to return to Frindal the long way we don’t actually lose anything.”

“True.” Anton folded his arms. “But I certainly hope that won’t be happening.”

Verona clapped her hands together. “Enough of work stuff. Normally your first time,” Verona smirked. “We would all be there. But your first time is special, so it shouldn’t be ruined by a whole bunch of us trying to be involved-”

“Like mine?” Rasha raised a red brow. “You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Can’t normally,” Kal said softly. Cetina nodded in agreement.

Verona scoffed. “Whatever they think they can.” Her face softened as she held Mezot’s hands. “Don’t be afraid to tell him to go calm down if it’s a bit much. He can be a bit of a brute at times. This is all about having fun.”

“Thanks, Verona.”

Verona smiled softly. She brought Anton down for a kiss and whispered into his ear. “I knew you would get one on your own. I haven’t done a thing.”

Anton returned the kiss.

“I’ll tell you all what happened later.” Anton kissed Kal. “But I think it would kind of ruin the moment.”

“You already are.” Kal shook her head. “But I don’t know if we even have a spare bed here. And even if you are I think you’re going to keep us awake.”

“And lure us.” Verona leant against the wall. She frowned softly as she rubbed her protruding stomach. “Both of us need our beauty sleep.”

“I…” Anton smiled. “I think Bebbezzar might have some Inns that we could use. A few late night travelers wouldn’t be anything too amiss.”

“It’s not that uncommon.” Cetina shrugged.

Anton beckoned for her and Rasha to come close, he gave them both a quick kiss.

“We’ll see you both in the morning. I spoke with Temur during the festivities. Tomorrow we should be nearing the first of many sites where the spices grow.”

“You don’t need to barter with us.” Verona smiled as she dismissively waved them away. “We’ll see you two in the morning. No more delaying. It’s going to be hard enough to find an available Inn on such short notice in the middle of winter.”

---[]---

Anton, wearing a thick cloak over his Frindal attire, stepped into the large room, the largest the Inn had. It was well furnished and supplied with a selection of drinks and dried foods, but those were of little importance. So too was the cost. It was not hard to find an Inn with an available room but the price was quite high. Not that it was a problem that a gold coin couldn’t solve.

Mezot followed him in. She didn’t look like she was having doubts, only that she was very nervous.

“This looks very good,” Mezot spoke idly. “Better than my room in the Royal Academy.”

“It’s still upsetting to hear that.” Anton shut the door.

“Yes…” Mezot stopped before the side of the bed. She bit her lip and placed a hand on the thick cloth. “It...Um. Feels very soft.”

“Only the best.” Anton smiled. “You haven’t had to sleep rough yet. It’s not that bad, all things considered.”

Mezot looked at the bed and bit her lip. Anton took her hand. It was hot but she was undeniably nervous.

“This is not something to be afraid of.” Anton gently removed her hood. “It is something to be enjoyed.”

“It’s been a while.” Mezot smiled bitterly. “Really not since my daughter-”

Anton held a finger to her lips. Mezot kissed and began to suck on his finger. He only wanted to make her stop her talking, from panicking, but this wasn’t a bad result. She continued to draw his finger into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around his fingers while keeping her clear blue eyes locked straight on his.

“Are you sure about that?” Anton gently stroked her head as Mezot continued to play with his fingers, pulling his hand deeper into her mouth. “You…You seem to know what you’re doing.”

Mezot pulled his finger away, licking away the few strands of spit that were left. “I wanted to do it. Did...Did you like it?”

“I did.” Anton kissed her forehead. “Very much so.”

Mezot tried to suck on his finger again but Anton stopped her. She frowned but held his hand.

“Is this all you want to do?” Anton asked.

Mezot shook her head.

“Then…”

Anton removed Mezot’s cloak and let it drop to the ground. Mezot moved an inch down, to pick it up, but stopped.

“How…” Anton gently cupped the side of Mezot’s head. “How do you remove these clothes? Looks like you have to crawl your way out of them.”

“It’s not that hard.”

Mezot stepped back and removed her ice blue shawl. A small toggle lay underneath so it would not slide off when she moved. The other layers of cloth did not come off so easily, Mezot had to pull the bottom hemline up and over her head. Anton started to chuckle as Mezot wiggled back and forth to remove it. Anton helped and pulled the outer cloth off.

“Thanks.” Mezot stepped back. “It was much easier to get on…”

Anton was quite surprised by what Mezot was wearing underneath. The light blue and intricately detailed tight cloth on her arms and legs covered her body right up to her torso, a tight band of gold cloth were wrapped tight to stop it from slipping down. Her torso was covered by a thin pair of shorts and a shirt, also made from the same material but not as tight on her body, though not by much.

“That is...Incredible.” Anton placed the cloth on the end of the bed. “Did you choose that?”

“I thought it was the prettiest.” Mezot tried to cover her reddening face. “I…”

“It is beautiful.” Anton pulled her close. “But I want to see what’s underneath.”

Anton quickly removed her shirt and clothes. Mezot was just as flat he first thought, not even a slight rise over her small pink nipples. The rest of her body was surprisingly slim as well, a perfectly flat stomach without any sign of muscle underneath that Anton was used to, until his eyes reached her hips. They flared out significantly to some surprisingly thick and soft thighs. She looked down as Anton threw the clothes away, she ran her hands over them and sighed.

“Don’t do that.” Anton pulled her in tight, one hand on her chest and another on her rear. “All breasts are beautiful.”

Mezot pouted. “Not when I don’t have any.”

Anton kissed her and gave her rear another squeeze. Without the cloth it was even softer, despite the lack of muscle it was still quite pert.

“Incredible,” Anton mumbled. “Utterly incredible.”

“Please…” Mezot whimpered into his neck. She began to kiss his neck, working her way up to his ear.

“This is something for us to both enjoy.” Anton unfastened the toggled holding the few remaining pieces of cloth onto her body. They dropped to the floor, there would be time to worry about cleaning up later. “So you let me know if I’m going too fast or doing something you don’t like. Okay?”

Mezot held onto Anton tight as he placed her on the bed. Her hands reached for his clothes and tried to pull them free, a wry smile formed on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but Anton kissed her into silence. Her hands wrapped around his back as she began to grapple with him, trying to push his clothes off with her feet. Anton just hoped Mezot would not be too loud tonight. Being yelled at, during the heat of the moment, was not something either wanted.

Volume 05 - Chapter 54 - Desert Mysteries

Anton awoke first. For the first time in a while he was on his side, normally he slept on his back even with his tail. Mezot lay next to him, gently breathing with her mouth slightly agape, her blonde hair laying limp against her face. Even though Anton had her in his arms she held the covers right up to her neck. Anton knew she was not cold, the room had a small fire that Anton had restocked during the night while the walls and the small windows did a good job at containing heat. Mezot just liked to rug up tight.

“First woman I’ve had by myself for some time.” Anton gently stroked the hair away from her face. Mezot’s eyebrows twitched but refused to wake. “I’m a little surprised by you, actually. Not to mention there’s not many people that can truly claim they’ve bedded their teacher.” Anton smiled and gently rubbed her back. “Especially ones that scream your name.”

Anton wormed his way underneath and held Mezot’s rear. The two soft orbs brought no end of enjoyment during the long night.

Mezot began to wake as Anton continued to rub her rear. Her eyes slowly opened and focused on his. She did not move and simply blinked at him.

“Good morning.” Anton said softly.

Mezot’s face softened. Her hands pulled away from the cloth bed sheets around her neck before settling on his chest. Small and delicate fingers traced the outline of his muscles, trailing down to his well-toned stomach. She even licked her lips as her fingers started to travel down further.

“Good morning?” Anton said again.

Mezot smiled and her fingers stopped. She shuffled closer, close enough for their nose to be nearly touching.

“You were quite rough.” Mezot kissed his nose. She winced as she rubbed her legs together. “But...Good Morning, Anton.”

Her hand reached over his waist to his tail. She brought it delicately into her hands and towards her chest. She shuffled back to give some space and began to caress the scaled limb.

“I didn’t think you could move it the way you did.” Mezot’s face reddened. “I wasn’t prepared…”

Anton felt his own face heat up. Though his tail spent most of its time wrapped around his waist he could control it incredibly well, much to Mezot’s, and the others delight.

“You certainly seemed to like it.” Anton kissed her. “So why should I have stopped?”

Mezot squirmed and kissed one of the four separate ends of his tail, the ends of which still glowed. Mezot’s brows began to furrow as she inspected them like she would anything related with magic.

“You explained to me how this happened to you.” Mezot picked at the scales at the end. “But what does it do?” Mezot relinquished her hold and let the tail fall between them. “Apart from making clothes...Difficult for you.”

“It holds something that I call a Charge.” Anton sat up, placing the end of his tail over his lap. He somehow felt that Mezot was a little disappointed that he hadn’t removed the bedsheets. “It allows me to do a few things. I haven’t told you any of this, have I?”

“You only told me how it happened to you.” Mezot sat up as well, she held the thinnest sheet to her chest though it did little to cover her. “That it wasn’t Cetina’s fault.”

“It’s not her fault. And don’t ever tell her that you might think that.”

Mezot remained blank faced to Anton’s words.

“But I can use it to do this.”

Anton held out his hand and tried to summon a sphere of Black Lightning. It was extremely hard to summon it, unlike his normal mana the charge was extraordinarily dense and refused to budge from his tail. He forced it and it began to flow like normal mana, albeit much slower, and summoned the sphere of black and white lightning.

“So this is what it can do.” Anton tried to push the violently twitching Black Lightning Orb away but it refused to move more than a few millimetres from the surface of his hand. “I can’t make it move but there is something that it can do…”

Mezot leaned close to the violently twitching sphere. She tried to reach out and touch the sphere, Anton grabbed her hand and pulled it away. Mezot let out a tiny squeak, his grip was relatively strong, and fell back slightly. She wiggled and moved close enough for their shoulders to touch.

“Please don’t do that.” Anton chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what might happen if you touch a normal piece of magic, I do actually, but if you touch this you might not be alive when it’s all over.”

Anton raised his left hand, to a band of scar tissue, rough and still seemingly raw despite its age.

“I was attacked, I think you know this, and they used Ghlyirl so I couldn’t use magic. But I could still use this.” Anton bounced his hand with the Black Lightning Sphere. “It backfired, sort of, but it worked. I managed to heal myself but this is the result. I can never get rid of this.”

Mezot’s fingers wrapped around the scar. “I thought...I thought that it was a normal scar.”

“No.” Anton smiled and rotated his wrist. Though Mezot could not hear anything he could feel the bones grinding against itself, she frowned and continued to rotate his hand. “See? I can restore limbs and heal the most deadly diseases and maladies. And yet, I can’t fix this.”

Anton looked to the Black Lightning Sphere. “But it can...Can you feel anything from this?”

“No.” Mezot perked up and scanned the room. She found her staff and Charm resting in the far corner. “Keep that going for a bit longer.”

Mezot shuffled off the bed and trotted to her staff. Anton said nothing as he watched her walk, a mesmerising sight. Mezot returned to the bed, with her staff in her hands and covering her chest, before clambering on all fours next to Anton. She folded her legs underneath her rear and held the Charm next to the sphere of Black Lightning.

“I’m not feeling any magic.” Mezot continued to frown. “It’s like it’s not there. And yet…” Mezot moved her Charm away. “What does it actually do? It seems like a terrible magic if it only hurts you.”

“It can do something.”

Anton focused his attention back onto the sphere. He slowly pulled a Marble Spear from the Black Lightning, with every piece that came out the sphere shrunk. Mezot looked very impressed by the finished product. Anton held the spear horizontally so it didn’t try and cut through the ceiling.

“If you do touch it your fingers will be torn to shreds. Even if you don’t touch the blade.”

Mezot could not hold back her curiosity and tapped it with her finger. She yelped and held her finger. Blood dripped from her finger when she opened her hand, deep lacerations covered the small section that had made contact.

“Did you feel anything?” Anton quietly healed her. “Beyond the pain?”

“It…”

Mezot maneuvered her Charm close to the Marble Spear, careful not to let the gemstones touch it. Anton wondered if the Charm would function if one was destroyed or if it would simply become too unstable to use.

“I felt something.” Mezot bit on her lip. “Like something was ripping at my skin. It wasn’t magic, not like what I’m normally used to, but I definitely felt something.”

“A different type of magic.” Anton scratched his chin. “Have you heard of Strega Witches?”

“I have. But only in passing when I was a student. Have you met one?”

“I have. And it would be nice if you could tell me if they’re similar.” Anton shrugged. “But that’s not important right now.”

Anton exited the bed on his side and gently placed the Marble Spear on the floor and released his control of it, as he would describe it. The spear’s surface slowly cracked before disintegrating into thousands of tiny cubes. Though there was no wind they continued to shrink and disappear into nothing.

“That could be a very effective weapon for assassination.” Mezot said softly. “The weapon disintegrates in a few moments after you let go.”

“I’m glad that’s the first thing you thought of.” Anton returned to the bed before softly kissing Mezot. “But if you can’t tell if there’s anything there then there’s not much we can do.”

“If we can return to the Royal Academy I’m sure there will be something there. But it’s probably still not safe for us to return. Not yet. ”

“I’m more worried about what they’re going to say when we turn up.” Anton sat on the bed, flexing his dragonoid feet. The claws gripped at the sheets and stretched several of the fibres. “Though it is their fault this whole mess happened in the first place.”

Mezot softly sighed. “If it weren’t for the Library…” She looked towards the dimming fire. “When are they going to come and get us?”

“I paid them until mid-day.” Anton took Mezot’s staff and placed it on the floor. He directed his tail to wrap itself around Mezot’s waist, much to her delight. “So we have a little time. Probably by a couple of hours before we’re really missed.” Anton pulled Mezot close and began to push her down. “But that’s what you were hoping for, wasn’t it?”

Mezot did not reply and leant up to kiss him, he pulled the covers back over them and indulged in the prize beneath him.

---[]---

Anton stepped through the portal to the Nomad camp, back in his Frindal attire. He wasn’t sure if he liked or hated it but it certainly drew too much attention outside of Frindal, Mezot followed a few seconds later, she too wearing her Frindal clothes. Anton didn’t particularly like how much of the body it covered but it was preferable to being whipped by unending sand and sun all day. However it did appear to lead to some attitudes that Anton found less than agreeable.

Mezot took a long breath, using her staff for support as she stepped off the portal. She looked a little distant after a long talk from Verona and Kal, mainly Verona.

“It’ll only be like that at the beginning.” Anton said. He gave Mezot’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Verona only does that once and then she calms down. Kal…”

“Kal didn’t say much.” Mezot smiled. “She just told me not to get pregnant before they have given birth.”

“I…”

Anton turned to the empty room. He could hear movement, the sound of wood dragging on sand. The Nomads only moved during dawn and dusk, when the desert sun and cold were at their weakest, and tiny streams of sunlight came through underneath the door.

“I don’t think Kal would have said something like that.”

“She did.” Mezot replied without emotion, without any sign that she was lying. “But I understand why.”

“Good thing Verona and Kal are safe in Atros.” Anton stopped at the door. He could hear faint voices on the other side, Cetina and Zuhura, if he wasn’t mistaken. “And what about you?”

“Me?” Mezot moved to the door.

“What are you going to say to your daughter? About us? She’s far from stupid.”

Mezot tensed as she mulled over her thoughts. “I...I will tell her. I’m sure I’ll manage to mess it up,” Mezot forced a smile. “But I will tell her.”

I’m sure she’s already made some guess as to why we are late, and Cetina returned early. She’s old enough to understand.

Anton gave Mezot a quick kiss and opened the door. Cetina and Zuhura waited to the side, discussing something about spices.

“Hello.” Cetina couldn’t hide her smirk. “Glad you two could make it.”

“We aren’t that late.” Anton looked towards the sun, just rising over the sand dunes. “Besides, everything’s fine here.”

“It is.” Zuhura frowned softly. “We are heading south...Is something the matter with her?”

Zuhura nodded towards Mezot. She stared towards the ladder to the lookout platform, looking for someone.

“Your daughter is up there with the...Twins.” Zuhura said. “She didn't appear too worried that you were not here.”

“I need to talk with her.” Mezot took a deep breath and held her staff tight to her chest. “I need to be the one to say this.”

Axia poked her head over the wooden floor right above their heads. “Hey! I was wondering when you would return. You missed breakfast.” Axia smiled wickedly, resting her chin on the edge of the wood. “But it looks like you’ve-”

The Sled shuddered to the side. Axia was propelled forward and screamed as she fell. Anton caught her, she was quite light in his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thanks...Thanks Anton.” Axia smiled as he tapped his hands, letting him know to let her down. She frowned at his waist. Though it was hidden by the loose clothes it was impossible to hide when something pressed against it. “I won’t ask about that. But it seems that I need to talk with my mother about something.”

Axia raised her hands. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Her smile returned. “You don’t seem like the person to try and take advantage of someone, no matter what.”

Anton ruffled her headscarf. “Remember that your mother is an adult and has her own life to lead, just like you.”

Axia rolled her eyes. “I understand. But I just want to talk with her.”

“I do want to say something to you.” Mezot glanced at Cetina and Zuhura. “But it is a little...Difficult to say in front of so many people.”

Axia took her mother's hand as they both entered the room. Cetina shook her head and leant against the wooden railing.

“So was it good?”

“It was.” Anton smiled and gently pinched her rear. Cetina jumped and glanced at Zuhura. “I think you could learn a few things from her.”

“Really?” Cetina asked dryly.

“You,” Zuhura coughed. “Though I do not understand the customs of your city, it may not be wise to have so many public displays of affection to two different women.”

“I think that’s everywhere, honestly.” Anton raised his hands. “But I understand.”

“Most of the Tribe believes that you are either in a relationship with your bodyguard, Cetina, or with no one. They may find-”

Anton raised his hand again. “As I said, I understand. I’m not exactly going to be grabbing them,” Anton held Cetina’s waist. “And ramming my tongue down their throats in public.”

Zuhura’s face threatened to turn red. She looked out towards the passing dunes, taking every effort possible to bring her skin under control.

“So where are we heading today?” Anton asked.

Zuhura cleared her throat and brushed down her shirt. Before she could answer Calo and Sheso began to descend the ladder with the grace naturally afforded to the Dark Elves, even with their current attire.

“Hey Anton!” Calo gave a quick wave once her boots touched the floor. “You missed breakfast. They were serving up desert creatures. Thankfully not those Sana Vākara.”

“I hope the Nomad Tribes don’t have to resort to cannibalism.” Anton glanced at Zuhura. “Though I completely understand that the desert is not a place where one can afford to be squeamish about things.”

“It tastes surprisingly similar to pork.” Zuhura spoke without a hint of emotion. “Less chewy and more tender.”

“I…” Calo looked to her sister, who was still climbing down and apparently didn’t hear. She threw Calo an odd look.

“Back on topic.” Anton trailed off. He coughed. “Back on topic. Where are we heading today?”

“The Elders have decided to visit a small rocky valley to the south.” Zuhura quickly regained her normal temperament. “It contains many of the spice plants that are vital for the Nomad’s survival. The ground seeds are used to create the spices, the dried flesh of the fruits are used to create colourings for cloth. They are extremely important to us.”

“Is that one of the places that Bedes found?” Sheso asked. “Where he fell sick?”

“Somewhat. But there shouldn’t be any poisonous air there, especially if the Elders are talking about it the way they are.”

“I’m quite interested in seeing these plants, if they’re willing to let us.” Anton said. “I know that Verona would be delighted to have some fresh spices.”

“That woman thinks only with her stomach.” Cetina rolled her eye and smirked. “Anything for food...It’s gotten a little better since...No-”

“No it hasn’t.” Anton smiled back. “But would Temur allow us to come with them?”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t.” Zuhura faintly smiled. “You’ve done a great many things for the tribe. There is certainly no reason why they shouldn’t.”

“I…” Calo shook her head as she looked at Zuhura.

“You have to do what you have to survive.” Anton said softly. “Don’t think too hard on it.”

Calo nodded. Sheso still looked a little lost and confused.

“Do you know how to ride Camels?” Zuhura asked.

“We ride horses all the time.” Cetina replied. “They’ll be no different.”

Zuhura smiled, a wicked smile that seemed so at odds with her normal demeanour. “This...This will be interesting.”

---[]---

“Fucking hell.” Cetina yelled. “Why won’t you go straight?!”

The Nomad Riders laughed as Cetina struggled to regain control of the stubborn Camel. A Nomad reached over and pulled the reins back extremely hard. The Camel protested, lurching back and forth, but finally obeying Cetina’s orders.

“Thanks.” Cetina shook her head. “They are nothing like horses.”

The Nomad laughed and re-joined their small column. Anton glanced back as Cetina followed, still grumbling that her Camel was not as loyal as her normal horse. The Nomad caravan continued towards their destination behind them, a distant snake trailing through the sand. Apparently it wasn’t worth bringing the entire tribe with them so only a smaller group would head towards the Spice Plants. Anton could not see their destination in the endless rolling hills of sand but the Nomads were moving with purpose. Mezot sat behind Anton, holding tight to his waist as Axia held Mezot’s. Calo and Sheso rode a younger Camel, somehow they were not having the issues Cetina was, and Zuhura rode with another Nomad. She did not hold onto him in any way, much to the rider’s immense disappointment.

Anton watched the skies for any sign of attackers. After his vague brush with the Dragons over the Wood Elf territory he was becoming rather paranoid about an attack from above, especially in the endless blue expanse. It wouldn’t matter if it was a simple beast, he could not defend against something he didn’t know was coming. Thankfully the beasts of the Frindal deserts were not attacking.

They’ve probably gorged themselves on the Sana Vākara corpses. There was more than enough for the smaller beasts...Still doesn’t mean a bigger one isn’t lurking around, waiting for us to lower our guard.

Anton again looked to the nearby dunes. Nothing had disturbed the sands in some time so there wasn’t anything in the immediate vicinity. At least nothing that had moved recently.

A Nomad whistled loudly, standing at the top of a dune some distance away.

“It’s just a bit further.” Another Nomad said loudly. “You’ll see it easily then.”

When Anton reached the crest of the dune he was thoroughly surprised by what lay beyond. A large circle of raised stone surrounded a field of red and yellow. It took him a few moments to realise they were flowers, yellow flowers and small red fruits no larger than a blueberry. Insects buzzed between the flowers while small birds darted about, feasting on the seemingly limitless swarms. Somehow it all stood defiant against the encroaching sand. A tiny glimmer of vibrant life in the endless expanse of sand.

“These fields are huge!” Anton looked to the Nomads with him. “How big is this place? How many plants are there?”

The Nomad shrugged as he leant forward on his Camel. The Camel grunted as its lips curled up, ready to spit but the man quickly and wisely backed away.

“I...Don’t know. We don’t count them.”

The Nomad led them towards the base of the raised stone circle. A rough pathway had been carved into the stone which the Camels took with only some slight encouragement. Cetina swore under her breath to get hers to move. If anything it appeared to be finding joy in the annoyance it was causing.

A soft perfumed scent washed over them once they reached the top. When the gentle wind turned just a fraction away it disappeared.

The Nomads began to dismount so Anton did as well. He hopped down first, his dragonoid claws protested in pain as he landed on the hard surface, before helping Mezot and Axia down. Axia and Mezot acted like their talk never happened. Then again it probably wasn’t serious, just a confirmation of what was happening. Cetina grumbled as she accepted Anton’s hand. She glared at her Camel. The feeling was mutual.

“I much prefer horses.” Cetin stated adamantly. “I can’t wait to be in a place where I don’t need to ride one of these.”

“We’ll make this our only foray in acquiring some of the spice plants.” Anton smiled as he turned to the Nomads. “So how many plants are there in this...little oasis?”

“Never bothered to count them.” The Nomad reached into a pack on the Camel’s side and drew a large cluster of orange leaves. The Camel lips curled up while its head bobbed from side to side. He waited until it calmed and began to feed it one leaf at a time. “Sometimes there are more, sometimes less.”

“Since you aren’t here often I don’t think…No. You still should have a rough idea how much you can get from this place.” Anton saw Zuhura dismount her Camel without waiting for the Nomad to assist her. Those nearby chuckled softly as the Nomad looked on despondently. “It’s important to have accurate record keeping. Even if you’re just one of many Nomad Tribes travelling these lands.”

The Nomad shrugged. “We don’t harvest everything.”

Several of the men produced large hessian bags and sharp metal knives. They gently stepped into the circle and began harvesting the flowers and fruits. Anton was a little surprised they didn’t take everything in sight. Only one in five plants were harvested, and even then they didn’t strip it bare.

“Not everything?” Sheso asked. “Surely you need a lot.”

“One of the Tribes took all of them.” The first Nomad stood at the edge of the stone while directing the younger Nomads to follow their elders. “It was a disaster. The plants quickly began to dwindle, so they realised what was happening and stopped it.”

He smiled at Anton. “They tried to blame other tribes but that didn’t work.”

“No?” Calo asked, Axia slowly nodded.

“They were the only one near their plants, so everyone told them it was their fault.” The Nomad shrugged but retained his smile. “They quickly became very quiet.”

“Overharvesting is a serious issue.” Anton said softly. “But why can you not grow these somewhere that’s not here.”

He gestured vaguely to the endless desert dunes. “Sure the coastal Frindals have been out here. If I were them I would have taken some seeds and plants and tried to grow it in a better place than this.”

The Nomad frowned at him.

“I know it would cut an extreme amount of money from the Nomad Tribes, I’m just saying that’s what should have happened.”

“I think they have tried it.” The Nomad shrugged again. He turned to the Camels, still eating the orange leaves. “But it didn’t work.”

Of course they would have. But, just maybe, the Nomad Tribes threatened war if they ever did. If Hazm had to try and arrange a peace deal because of one Tribe...And I don’t know how many there are out here.

“Can we get closer?” Axia asked. “They smell wonderful.”

The Nomad shrugged. Anton smiled and ushered them forward. As the girls drew closer to the plants, Zuhura and Cetina remained by his side, a slight tremor in a distant dune caught his eye. He silently alerted the nearby Nomad who immediately grew very concerned.

"There's something moving towards us." Cetina said softly. "Whatever it is, it's using the sand as cover."

"More Sun Walkers?" Zuhura asked softly. A hand reached for her hip, where Anton presumed his gifted dagger lay.

"No." The Nomad whistled loudly and waved everyone back. "But I don't know if Lychas are better or worse."

Mezot and Axia were the first to return. Both held their staff's tight and began to remove the cloth covering their Charm. Cetina moved between them and pointed at the source of the disturbance.

“I see it.” Axia tapped her staff. “Can I do it this time? I know some fire magic, more than just Fireball.”

“We don’t know if they’re coming here just yet.” Anton said. “They-”

“Oh they’re coming here.” The Nomad breathed a little easier once the others had left the spice fields. “They can smell the Camels. They love their flesh.”

The Camels were very anxious, grouping together and stamping their feet nervously.

“Do we run or stay here?” Cetina asked.

“We have to wait.” The Nomad stopped one younger Nomad who was trying to mount his Camel. “They’re much faster than us. And if they find the main caravan then they’ll draw even more Lychas to them. It’s best to just wait and let them lose interest.” He nodded the direction they came. “They’ll guess what’s happened to us.”

Cetina moved next to Anton and leant close to his ear. “I have the portal stones. If things are looking bad.”

Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I shall keep that in mind. But I don’t think we’ll be running away just yet.”

The Lychas moved silently underneath the sand, only the raised hill and valley that followed let anyone know of their presence. As they neared the stone circle they abruptly stopped and began to fan out around the stone.

“This stone isn’t sitting on all of this sand.” Anton mused. He almost cracked a smile. “Ever thought of getting rid of it all?”

The Nomad’s ignored his words and focused on the approaching lines of sand. Weapons were drawn, iron blades with light bone handles, and pointed at the sand humps. Suddenly the humps stopped.

“Are they about to attack?” Axia asked. Calo and Sheso drew their weapons and stood back to back, they worked best in a team but Anton had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be enough against the Lychas. “It takes us a little bit to use our magic.”

“Just...Get ready.” The Nomad picked up a loose rock. “Let’s see if they’re going to be pricks or not.”

He tossed the rock onto the nearest sand hump. It landed with a disappointing thud and sunk slightly. Axia was about to speak when large gold and brown tipped claws erupted around the stone, grabbed it so tight the stone broke and dragged it underneath the sands.

“Oh shit!” Axia grabbed Anton’s hand. “Was that going to be us?”

Anton nodded. “Much worse I think. Just wait until it realises-”

The sand burst out in a mighty explosion, blinding everyone temporarily. Axia hid behind Anton, so too did Mezot, as the dust settled. A giant scorpion stood where the sand hump once lay. Despite being only a little larger than a dog it was a frightening sight to see its giant pincers and stinger slowly waving back and forth. Apart from a thin layer of thick hairs along its body it looked like an ordinary scorpion, albeit massive.

“Big fucker too.” The Nomad’s kept their weapons levelled at the Lychas. “Probably a female looking for meat for her babies.”

“To feed or so she can lay eggs?” Anton asked.

“Both. Both...They’d love that much flesh.” He pointed to the other still mounts of disturbed sand. “They’re probably males. Only one female and there’s usually four or five males that hang around her.”

Verona would be saying something right now…

“So if we kill her they’ll go away?” Axia readied her staff and Charm. Axia smiled at Anton, though she kept an eye towards the Lychas. "I've got to show off some of my magic too. Can't let mother have all the fun."

Calo and Sheso looked at their blades and sighed. They hadn't really had a chance to show how they improved. Anton would honestly prefer them to stay safe. He was growing fond of their banter.

"Umm. It could work." The Nomad did not look entirely convinced. "Or the males could go crazy and attack us up here."

"Why aren't they attacking us?" Anton asked. "Can they not climb a slight slope?"

"They can't climb these rocks. Never have." The Nomad nodded back to the fields of spice plants. "So they're more than just a source of them."

Is it the smell? Insects do have a sense of smell, all those hairs might just be acting up. Is it repulsive to them?

Anton cut a fruit and flower stem from the spice plant and tossed it at the Lychas. It struck its head, just past its cluster of small black eyes and rolled onto the sand. It made no movement, not even a leg to see if it was still moving.

"I suppose that answers that question." Anton said softly. "Alright Axia. Show us what a Principle Fire Mage is all about."

Axia grinned, closed her eyes and began to chant. Just like her mother she spoke very softly, almost a whisper and extremely fast. During the first and only lesson Anton had attended Axia was one of the few students who did not need to speak aloud.

"Fire Needle!"

The red gemstones glowed bright before a dart of fire shot out straight towards the Lychas. It cut straight through its head and hit the sand behind, throwing up a small plume of burning sand and setting fire to the hairs covering the Lychas body.

"Nicely done." Anton said.

The Lychas twitched once. Its legs splayed out before crashing to the ground. The other sand humps moved closer. Two Lychas heads stuck out and looked at the dead female. Several tense seconds passed before they retreated beneath the sand and slowly began to disperse.

"Fire Needle?" Anton asked. "Seems very strong. Is it a beginner or an intermediate spell?"

Axia slowly flexed her hand, her eyes staring at her fingers. "That took so much of my mana. I mean, I knew it would, but never so much at once."

"How did you know that spell?" Mezot asked angrily. "That's a lower intermediate fire spell. I thought you weren't up to that level yet."

"I..." Axia looked away. "I shouldn't be. But when you were stuck in the Library, sometimes I would read the books on Fire Magic. I even brought a few back..." Axia smiled faintly. "But this was the summer before we met Anton, so...I'm not surprised you didn't see me."

"I..." Mezot held her daughter's hand. "I'm sorry."

Axia laughed. "It's okay. That was before. And this is now."

"But was that your first time using that magic?" Anton asked. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

"Not really." Axia shrugged. "It's not too different to a Fire Ball. Uses a lot more mana though." She lowered the staff and held the Charm at eye level. "Unlike...Oh. Right. I forgot, you can't use Principle Magic."

"Unfortunately not. But when we regroup with the rest of the Tribe I want you and Mezot to continue to teach me about it. We have some spare time so I think we should use it constructively."

Cetina opened her mouth to speak but shut it immediately after, she didn't explain herself either.

"Before you do that can we finish the harvest?" The Nomad motioned to the others, their weapons were hidden and their cutting knives ready. "Though we don't have the Lychas to worry about we still have to get this done. Otherwise there's going to be a lot of angry women in the tribe, saying they can't get their work done."

"Of course. I also want to have a little bit of a look at this rock formation." Mezot and Axia perked up at his words. "See if there's anything magical going on with it."

"Or if it really is just a piece of rock." Cetina offered.

Anton smiled. "Only one way to be sure."

---[]---

"Lychas tend not to move so aggressively." Temur said softly. His room in the Sled was quite large but filled with many items and devices, many of which Anton had neither seem before or could fathom their purpose.

"I'm sorry we could not determine what keeps them away." Mezot bowed her head towards Anton. "I thought we might have been able to discover something..."

"There was absolutely nothing." Axia folded her arms in a huff. "Nothing unusual about the rock."

Temur smiled. "That's quite alright. If it is still a mystery to our Mage guests then it might just be something that we'll never know."

Nothing is unknowable. But if I say it like that I'll just come across as a massive turd.

"The spices?" Anton looked around his shoulder to Bedes. He and his minders were busy sorting through the flowers and fruits, separating them by quality.

"They will be dried and ground up to create the dyes we need." Temur smiled. "Thank you for not letting our people die. They are some of our best and most knowledgeable gatherers. We are thankful for your help yet again."

"That's perfectly fine." Anton smiled. "You're helping us reach the Ferals, without you we would be lost in the desert. I'm certain Zuhura would have told us otherwise."

Zuhura raised a black brow but said nothing.

Temur's smile changed to a slight frown. "I must admit that I was surprised when you, a Graterian, said you wished to meet the Feral Beastkin. And since..." Temur shrugged. "I thought you were, what are they called? Archaeologists? Yes. I believe that's right."

Temur began to nibble on a large nut. "Especially since you wanted to head east. I thought it was a ruse...For some reason."

Our intentions aren't entirely honest.

"Why do you think that?" Anton asked. "I know the Ferals, and the Lamia's in particular, are quite ferocious, but..."

Temur shrugged. "I honestly thought you wanted to see The Mesa. We've had a few foreigners come through here, over the past few winters, to investigate it. Even a group of Wood Elves. If the other Tribes are to be believed."

"Wood Elves?" Calo muttered. She and her sister shared a worried glance. "When? When did that happen?"

"About...Forty winters ago. I think-"

"That's before I was born!" Bedes said loudly.

He seemed rather proud of his accomplishment, his minders quietly tried to calm him and make him focus on the task before him. He was not to be swayed, instead his expression turned wistful, almost longing.

"I would have liked to have seen one. Dad? Do you think long ears would help someone hear better?" Bedes cupped his ears. "Everything's a lot louder now. It would be great...Maybe not." Bedes smiled. "Then everyone can hear me mumbling under my breath."

"Please focus." One of Bedes minders tapped on the floor. "They are having an important discussion and we should not interrupt."

"Okay." Bedes mumbled. He quickly resigned himself to sorting the plants. After a few seconds he acted like he had never spoken.

"I thought all of the Feral Beastkin lived to the east of the deserts?"

Temur nodded. "They do. But the people that lived on The Mesa were not Humans or Beastkin. They were Desert Elves."

"D-What?" Sheso spluttered. "Desert Elves? I-I've never heard of them before."

Temur shrugged. "They kept to themselves. And they liked it that way. Sure, they liked to trade and chat but that was it."

Temur's gaze fell upon Anton. Anton listened but barely heard his words.

It does actually ring a bell. When did I hear...When I first arrived in Atros, before we had defeated the Goblins of Mount Aspire. I spoke to Bertram about other races and they came up. Wood Elves, Dark Elves, Fire Elves destroyed by Nithroel and the Desert Elves. But that was the last time I'd heard of them. Guess their isolation worked. No one has ever spoken of them since.

"Tell me about them." Anton searched behind him for a place to seat. "You have my full attention."

While Anton faced away he signalled Calo and Sheso to remain quiet, not because he didn't want their input but something might give away their race. Only Zuhura knew of their true identity.

"There's not really much for me to say." Temur rubbed his legs. "They looked like humans, with high cheekbones and a refined face...Their skin was..." Temur pointed to Cetina. "A little darker than yours and they had brown hair. Yes. Definitely brown hair. They were excellent trackers and archers, like I've heard all of the Elves are."

"And..."

"They lived for a long time." Temur shrugged. "Three generations before my grandfather always spoke to the same Desert Elf, and he never aged."

"So how come they're gone?" Anton asked. "A plague, or a disease like your son had?"

"That's the question. We just don't know." Temur rose up. "The Mesa isn't far from our current destination. If you wish, and since you're already investigating so many things along the route, we could make a detour."

"For supplies?" Cetina asked. "If they lived out here, and not on the move, they must have had a source of water."

"Perhaps that is what killed them." Zuhura quietly offered. "A polluted water supply could quickly destroy a city."

Temur shrugged. "We don't know. No one ever goes there anymore."

---[]---

The Mesa, as it was unimaginatively dubbed, loomed like a great mountain amongst the rolling dunes. In a sense it was, The Mesa was merely a flat topped mountain. However none of the nearby mountains looked remotely similar. Strangely a light smattering of clouds hanged over The Mesa, wispy Cirrus clouds far too low for it to normally exist. Anton was no longer surprised by seeing such anomalous behaviour in this world compared to Earth. However things did not happen without reason, or in most cases magical intervention. Anton’s thoughts were not halted by a nervous tapping to his side. Calo and Sheso looked towards the looming Mesa, both looked more nervous and apprehensive than he had ever seen them.

"How come I've never heard of these Desert Elves?" Calo asked aloud. They stood at the very top of Temur's Sled, away from curious ears.

"Probably the same reason why I, despite my fascination with the Beastkin, have never heard of these Feral's until very recently." Anton shrugged. "Because no one asked. And it sounds like they've been gone long before you were born."

Since Dark Elves only live for about one hundred and fifty years, unlike the hundreds of thousands of years of the Wood Elves. I wonder if that ever gets boring for them.

Anton turned to Mezot and Axia, their heads close together as they looked towards The Mesa. "Can you feel any magic coming from there?"

"It is a little hard to properly tell at this distance." Mezot softly replied. "But I do not believe there is anything on that mountain. All cities have some line of smoke, even if it's from cooking. And there is nothing..."

Cetina raised a brown and nudged Anton's side. "She's learnt a thing or two since we met her."

"Are you worried you'll be replaced by a fastidious Graterian?" Anton asked slyly.

Cetina scoffed. "No way. But...There isn't anything moving up there at all. Not a sign of life.”

The edge of The Mesa obscured anything on top, the Desert Elf city was clearly not multi-storied, except for a small fence surrounding the entire edge.

“Let’s get moving then.” Anton tapped the wooden railing. “Cetina, do you want to ride with me this time? At least you won’t have a difficult Camel to ride.”

Cetina laughed but did not reply.

Zuhura coughed lightly. “It would be best if we had Temur’s support, both in name and manpower. I have asked the few Nomads I could and they are quite nervous to approach The Mesa. If we do it ourselves we could become outcasts...In a sort.” Zuhura smiled. “After your help and healing of the sick I’m sure they would let it go. But I do not think we should be too hasty.”

“Good thought.” Anton looked along the outer surface of The Mesa. He could just make out a winding path up the brown surface, zig zagging right to the top. “I wonder if there’s anything really to find after decades. We aren’t just going to find one wandering the ruins, now are we?”

---[]---

Anton did not know what to think when they reached the top of The Mesa. The idea of the disappearance of an entire species did not fill him with much joy, far less so when he saw what remained of the Desert Elves civilisation. Stone and wooden buildings lay in ruins, not from combat but simple neglect and the passage of time. At one stage the centre of the large town held many multi story buildings stood proud, now nothing more than piles of rubble and dry rotted wood, just like the rest of the sprawling and tightly packed city. Small lizards and insects scurried between the ruins, disturbed by their presence.

"What happened here?" Anton asked softly.

Temur simply shook his head. "I don't know. But my Grandfather knew them. Knew them very well. But they just...disappeared. At first they thought they had moved. Ah, there's one."

For the briefest moment Anton thought he meant a Desert Elf, but he knew it would not be so.

Temur ushered the Nomad Warriors forward. They clutched their weapons tight, never moved more than a foot from their group and nervously eyed the buildings.

"Not even bandits use this place." Temur said softly. "Everyone we've ever captured says they're afraid of this place." Temur puffed out his chest. "I'm not afraid, but...But something about this place..."

A sharp whistling wind cut his courage short. The tight, winding ruined buildings funnelled the wind into strange patterns, creating a constant high pitched whine that grew to a crescendo at random intervals. Temur pointed to what he had originally spotted. A ruined well lay in the centre of a wider crossroads.

"We thought something had happened to their water supply, so they had to leave." Temur waited until they reached the edge, silently urging them not to get too close. "But there's lots of water. And it's perfectly fine."

"Not the same type of water that affected Bedes?" Cetina asked.

"No. That's what they first thought." Temur looked down again. "Polluted water and sickness. But Desert Lung doesn't kill you that quickly. My grandfather's tribe left here, only for a few days to trade to the west, and when they came back it was completely deserted. Another tribe arrived at the same time we did from the other direction. They had not seen anything, and they weren’t like bandits and they wouldn’t have the numbers to kill that many. It was all...very confusing."

Anton leant closer to the well. He could not hear anything but the air was cooler, more humid.

"You're right about the water." Anton stepped back and summoned a Small Lightning Crow. "Go down there and see if there are any bones."

"Bones?" Temur asked as the Small Lightning Crow darted down the well.

"The well is very deep." Zuhura said softly. "And likely goes into a cavern within The Mesa. It is likely the Desert Elves would not have a well that reached below the ground. Possibly...Possibly a spring forcing the water up. Nevertheless, a water cavern could hold hundreds of bodies before anyone would notice."

"And it would take time to decompose." Anton added. "Your grandfather probably took water before they started to rot...If it is a cavern there could be fish or other creatures, and they would love a huge free meal like that."

Anton continued to survey the ruins as he waited for the Lightning Crow to return. There wasn't much left. Anything fragile would have long since rotted or degraded in the harsh environment. A few small weeds tried to grow under overturned stones and bricks but even they were struggling.

"I can hear it coming back." Calo leant over the edge of the well, careful not to put any weight on the masonry. "Sounds like it's got something."

"That's not good." Axia mumbled.

She and Mezot remained together but far away from the well. Mezot took no notice of the proceedings, instead looking southward while frowning slightly.

"Hopefully it's an animal bone." Axia softly added.

The Lightning Crow emerged with a skull in its claws. Unfortunately for Axia it was a human skull, or at least a humanoid skull. As Anton took it he glanced at the twins.

Apart from their long ears there's almost nothing to differentiate them from a human. They could have an extra or be missing a bone or two but I have no idea, nor do I really want to find out.

"Did the Desert Elves have anything unique about them?" Anton asked. He ordered the Lightning Crow to search for more bones while he held the wet skull aloft. Thankfully it did not have any smell, apart from slightly stagnant water, as all of the flesh had long since rotted away. "Like small horns? Big teeth or something?"

"I've never met one myself." Temur said softly. "But I was told they looked like us, like any of the Elves really, just with tanned skin, unlike the Dark Elves and the Seocurians."

"No way to be certain but..." Anton stopped as he heard more flapping.

The Lightning Crow returned, this time with a large bundle of bones in its claws.

"Rib bones?" Anton wondered as Calo and Sheso took the bones. The Lightning Crow darted back into the well. "And this is all on the surface. I don't think the Crow can swim. Thankfully, we know someone who not only specialises in Ice magic but also dabbles quite heavily in Water magic."

Mezot, again, was not listening as she continued to look south. Anton approached, she did not notice him until he crept into her vision from below. She jumped back but quickly smiled.

"Sorry, Anton. I thought I felt something coming from the south." Mezot stepped towards the well. "Did you say you wanted water summons?"

"If you could. But only level one. It'll take too much out of you otherwise, and we need numbers, not strength."

Mezot gave a single nod, closed her eyes and began to chant. Axia took a large pile of rubble as her seat, resting her staff and Charm beside her.

"Have you advanced to the stage where you summon creatures?"

"Me?" Axia pointed to herself. "No. Not yet. Besides, my speciality is fire. And I don't think fire will be much use here."

A small disk of blue light emerged at Mezot's feet. Out of it a Water Sprite emerged, little more than a vaguely humanoid lump of water. Mezot closed her eyes and began chanting again.

"Thanks, by the way." Axia said softly. She beckoned him closer. "The moment I saw her this morning I knew something had happened." Axia's devilish smile emerged. "I was even more surprised when she told me."

Anton sat next to Axia. "I hope she didn't tell you everything."

"I'm sure she would have if I'd pushed her." Axia began to bounce her feet back and forth. "But if I knew everything then it'd be pretty weird."

"I bet."

"So what does that make us then?" Axia shuffled closer. "I'm the daughter of your...”

Anton rubbed his legs. "Without going too far into it I think it would make you my step-daughter. So...Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Oh?” Axia jabbed his side and laughed. “What thoughts are going through your head? I’m not old enough to become someone’s...Not yet anyway. I’m still fourteen winters, fifteen at the beginning of spring.” She brought a knee up to her chin. “So you’re going to have to wait.”

“You...Are you sure that you and Verona don’t share some common ancestor?” Anton shook his head. “You two are more alike than I would like.”

Axia laughed. “It’s…” Slowly her face darkened and her shoulders dropped.

Anton didn’t ask why but hugged her from the side. Axia’s body shuddered as she looked down, she sniffled and wiped away a tear. Neither said anything, Cetina noticed something was happening and began walking towards them. Anton raised his hand and she stopped, a hand tapped on the pommel of her sword.

“I’m alright.” Axia smiled. “Thanks...Thanks for that.”

“You can come and talk to me whenever you want, regardless of what relation you are to me.”

Axia gave his arm a squeeze and rested her head onto his shoulder. “Thanks...Thanks.”

“When we’re done in Frindal.” Anton said softly. “I want you to try something, a creation of mine that I’m thinking of doing. Remember what Sultan Hazm said about the cold milk?”

“Yeah…”

“I have something far, far more interesting in mind.” Anton smiled. “Frozen ice-cream. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“Is that why you wanted my mother?” Axia raised a brow and began to laugh. “So you could make something delicious to eat?”

“You’re definitely too much like Verona.” Anton gave her head another rough ruffle, to which they both smiled.

“Anton!” Mezot shouted towards them. “I’m ready.”

Five Water Sprites waited before Mezot, their small heads motionlessly pointing at her. Anton gave Axia’s head a final pat before joining Mezot. The Lightning Crow emerged with yet more bones, this time with some sort of leg bone.

“It’s hard to tell what it’s found but I think there’s a lot.” Anton looked at the emotionless Water Sprites. “It’ll be fastest if they act like some kind of conveyor, passing it to each other up the well rather than bringing it up individually.”

“I understand.”

Mezot knelt by the Water Sprites and issued her instructions. The Water Sprites gave no indication they understood, or even heard her, but they quickly moved into the well with one remaining near the top, with just its head above. Mezot stood up and looked to her daughter, still sitting on the pile of rubble. Zuhura approached Axia and began to speak with her, Axia perked up and smiled.

“Is everything okay?” Mezot asked softly, holding her staff close to her chest.

“Everything’s fine.” Anton smiled. “But don’t forget to talk with your daughter as often as you can. She really loves you, so don’t let us get in the way of that.”

Mezot nodded furiously. “I understand. Did...Did she say anything bad about us?”

“She did. But it looks like she’s been around Verona too much.” Anton leant around her shoulder as the Water Sprite as it lifted up the first set of bones, far more than his Small Lightning Crow. “Or maybe she was always like this?”

“I...Wouldn’t know.” Mezot’s shoulders dropped more than Axia’s.

“Then just talk to her.” Anton gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Even if it’s about nothing, she’ll appreciate it nonetheless. But do these creatures need your supervision?”

“They’ll continue collecting bones until I tell them otherwise.”

Mezot began to walk to her daughter. Axia raised her brow and welcomed her mother with a smile. Zuhura quietly backed away and left the mother and daughter to talk, though it would likely be Axia doing most of the talking.

Cetina and Zuhura moved to Anton’s side while Calo and Sheso relieved the Water Sprite of its bundle of bones. The moment it was the creature dived below the edge of the well and returned a few seconds later with even more.

“We could be here for a while.” Anton softly sighed. “Temur? Can we get some help to remove these? I get the feeling we’re about to find out what happened to the Desert Elves.”

---[]---

As the pile of bones grew larger and larger Anton’s heart continued to drop. After the two hundredth skull Mezot told him the Water Sprites still had more to go. Temur’s Nomad Warriors were growing more despondent and moving slower too. They were handling the remains of an entire species, with whom their grandparents had amicable relations and simply disappeared.

“Any way of knowing how they died?” Cetina asked.

She and Calo stood next to Anton, the rest of his companions had retreated to Axia’s rock, where she and Mezot watched the growing bone pile with worried faces.

“I haven’t really been looking at them too closely.” Anton softly replied. “Something about seeing so many from a dead race…”

Anton heard one of the Nomads let out a disgruntled moan as he casually dropped a fresh bundle of bones onto the pile.

“Do you think it’s weird that I’m becoming despondent seeing a pile of bones when I’ve killed…” Anton knelt by the loose bones. “Have you ever heard of a place called the Gravestone?”

Cetina and Calo looked at one another and shrugged.

“It’s a place in the northeast of Qaiviel.” Anton picked up some sort of leg bone. “I killed nearly five thousand Orcs and Clansmen with my fire magic. It was horrific, watching them burn, the sound and the smell, but somehow this is different.”

“Because it wasn’t you that did it?” Calo offered. “Those, I’m sure those Orcs and Clansmen were trying to kill you, so it’s easier. Like it is for us...Sort of.” Calo shrugged lightly. “But I don’t think these were killed in anger. It looks like they were dumped into the well to hide them.”

“No...No small skulls yet.” Anton stood up and held the leg bone close to his eyes. “So no children...Do you see this?”

Anton pointed to the end of the bone.

“Looks like someone poured acid on it.” Cetina tapped the end. “But-”

“Arthritis.” Anton tossed the bone back onto the pile. “All of the bones have it. Every one of these are the elderly, the very elderly.”

“But…” Calo scratched her neck.

Anton clicked his tongue. “If you were going to kidnap an entire city, this massive Mesa’s worth, would you take someone that can barely move? With a stooped back that can’t work?”

“No. I suppose not.” Calo looked to the skulls. “That’s why there aren’t any small skulls. No children...But what about the other wells? We’ve barely entered the city, and Temur’s warriors haven’t gone any further. They look like they want to run away.”

“I don’t blame them.” Anton looked to the ruined Desert Elf city. “I don’t want to go much further. Something is very wrong with this place. Speaking of, Mezot said she felt some mage to the south-”

He stopped when he realised Mezot was just beside him. She looked somewhat apprehensive, like she wanted to say something but was worried what he would say.

“The Water Sprites have almost finished.” Mezot looked to the well. “They’re under the water level now and have almost everything...But they’ve found something amongst the bones, but I can’t tell what. If I had a higher level summon it could tell me more.”

“Like its mental capacity is limited.” Anton mused. “Have them bring it up. You were saying there was something to the south? Something that you thought was odd?”

“Yes.” Mezot shook her head. “I’m worried we’re going to find more of those yellow Sun Walkers. But it’s different, far weaker. Axia can’t tell it’s there, until I showed her where it’s coming from.”

“Best get the odd thing first.” Anton said. “Is the source on the mesa itself or below?”

“Halfway down.” Mezot frowned. “I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Mezot gave a single nod as the Water Sprites began to emerge all at once. They carried the last of the bones, broken and shattered remains from the long fall, except the last Water Sprite carried something different. A rusted piece of metal, a long oval disk no larger than the palm of his hand. The Water Sprite gave it to Mezot. She held it only for a second before passing it to Anton. Despite spending potentially a hundred or so years completely submerged by water the metal disk was in surprisingly good condition. He scratched away the rusty surface, revealing a bright silvery metal beneath, with a bright blue and orange discolouration.

“Um…” Cetina pulled on Anton’s sleeve. “Doesn’t that look like the metal Ikel made?”

“Who?” Calo looked very lost.

Mezot leant close. “It does appear to match the description of the metal she developed. But why is it out here? The United Empire conquered the Frindal Emirate but that was thousands of winters ago.”

Anton had no real answer, nothing beyond wild speculation. He chanted a restoration prayer and the rust disappeared and the oval disk returned to its pristine state.

“The United Empire.” Anton clicked his tongue. “Why am I not surprised they’ve...But…”

The oval disk had the emblem of the United Empire in the centre, a vertical sword resting on a shield, but this was different. Four flaming wings lay behind the sword while the sword appeared more menacing and jagged. The shield itself remained relatively unchanged but four lines radiated from the centre to the edge.

“This is new.” Anton held the disk for everyone to see. “United Empire Special Forces? A splinter force? Definitely looks like them but someone had a bit more creativity with the design. Like they were bored."

"But they've been gone for hundreds upon hundreds of winters, even on our own continent. Is this a coincidence or..."

"Do you think some of the United Empire survived?" Anton rubbed his thumb over the engraving. "It's certainly possible. They ruled most of the known world and would have seen the collapse coming. Judging by those books on their armament they were not overthrown instantly. So it's entirely possible for them to have survived in some form. A contingency plan they drafted but never thought they would actually have to use..."

"So..." Calo looked to the piles of bones. "What does that mean for us?"

"For now? Not much. No one would believe us and they could just say this is a fabrication." Anton placed the disk in his pocket. "There's almost nothing we can do for the Desert Elves, except to keep our eyes peeled and see what happens."

"Still don't know why they came all this way." Calo looked over the mesa to the dunes beyond. "It's not like it's easy to get to. We're in the middle of the desert. If they wanted slaves it would be easier to raid the coast or buy from Seocuria."

Anton nodded. "Exactly. Exactly."

Temur slowly approached, not wanting to interject himself into a conversation. "Do we bury their bones?" He nodded to the pile. "I believe they buried their dead...And what about the other wells?"

"We'll bury these but leave the other wells alone." Anton nodded to the Nomad Warriors. "They don't look like they're taking this too well."

"Yes...I don't know what they were told about the Desert Elves At...But digging a hole isn't handling ancient bones."

The Nomad Warriors were pleased to be away from the bones, even if it was digging a hole.

“Temur?” Anton began. “I presume these ruins have already been picked clean? Not by your tribe, of course, but I doubt no one would dare to comb through these ruins.”

“We haven’t.” Temur folded his arms. “But I can’t say about the others. Why?”

“No real reason.” Anton said. “I don’t think there’s much for us to find. And…”

I could bring the White Ghlotsm and its horde here to pick through the rubble, but to what end? Nothing, other than a pile of rubble. Maybe another hundred year old artefact. Maybe I could find a dented coin? That would make several days effort worth it. Surely…

“We do have something. Perhaps.” Anton nodded to Mezot. “I believe that our Ice Mage has discovered something, something similar to the other day.”

“Sana Vākara?”

Immediately every Nomad Warrior dropped their tools and armed themselves, hunkering low and looking for assailants.

“No. Not that.” Anton tried to wave them down but it was a little hard when they were so on edge. “But something similar to the artefact.”

“What do you mean?” Temur asked Mezot.

Mezot gripped her staff and straightened her back. She had gained some confidence, though Anton had no idea what might have given her that.

“The source is very faint.” Mezot pointed to the south. “Extremely faint. But there is something and I would like to see what it is.”

“Certainly.” Temur waved over some Nomad Warriors. “They’ll help you, but I don’t think they’ll be of much help to you.”

Anton gave a polite smile as six warriors joined them. After a single glance from Cetina they remained several meters back, like the rest of the Nomads they did not seem to like the idea of women warriors. However they held any such complaints to their expression.

“Mezot? Can you please guide us?”

Mezot smiled and began to lead them through the ruined city, carefully avoiding the rubble of the buildings. Anton tried to study what little remained of the buildings but it was a difficult task at best. It was slightly depressing, to know he was walking through all that remained of a civilization, of an entire species. The metal disk felt oddly heavy in his pocket.

Mezot stopped when they neared the edge of the mesa. Here stood one of the few relatively intact pieces of the Desert Elves, even if it was nothing more than a thick stone wall. It was difficult to tell but Anton was sure there were once engravings in the stone, judging by the faint straight lines, such angles were nearly impossible in nature.

“It’s down there.” Mezot said. “Along the cliff face. That’s where it feels like it’s coming from.”

Anton was hesitant to approach the edge. He knew nothing about wind magic and had no intention of dying in such a foreign land. Sheso moved to the edge but Anton grabbed her and pulled her back, shaking his head when she looked confused at him.

“Don’t be so hesitant to fall off the edge.” Anton smiled.

“We…” Sheso glanced at the Nomad Warriors. “We’re not as clumsy as you, Anton. Calo and I are far more...Delicate.”

“Sure.” Anton approached the wall. He felt two women were sticking out their tongues at him.

He slowly approached the stone wall and looked over, he felt a hand gently hold the back of his shirt. Cetina smiled faintly when he glanced back.

“It’s near vertical cliffs here.” Anton mumbled. He tried to rock the stones back and forth but none budged. “So I don’t know how anything’s supposed...Hang on.”

“There is something?” Mezot asked. She coughed lightly. “I mean...I knew that.”

Anton chuckled. “I know. But there is something in the crevice. Something darker than the rock but I can’t tell what it is. You can’t see it from the ground below and only if you look right from this angle.”

“So what have you found?” Cetina’s grip tightened. “And can I pull you back up please? I don’t want to have to explain to everyone how you landed head first into the desert.”

“I’ll come back a bit.” Anton shuffled back slightly. “But it’s too risky to go down there on some sort of rope. Thankfully we have creatures that don’t worry about such things.”

Neither he nor Mezot had disbanded their summons, Anton’s Small Lightning Crow fluttered from building to building while Mezot’s five Water Sprites followed some meters behind. They looked like lost puppies, if puppies had no face and silently stared at them.

Mezot and Anton ordered their summons to retrieve the object. All six creatures moved down, the Lightning Crow flew around and down while the Water Sprites simply crawled down the rock. Anton smiled faintly at the sight of the Water Sprites maintaining their shape despite being horizontal. Unfortunately the two groups did not work in unison. His Lightning Crow squawked angrily as it was unable to perform the task, even though it was being done before it. It flew back up and perched on his shoulder. For the briefest moment it appeared to sulk before it resumed its normal emotionless state.

The five Water Sprites returned, carrying a black jagged slab of obsidian.

“That’s it.” Mezot lowered her Charm close to the piece of rock. “It’s not much but there is some magic coming from it.”

“Don’t touch it.” Cetina patted his shoulder. “For my sake.”

Anton agreed and kept his hands behind his back. The Water Sprites gently placed the stone on the ground.

It was clear the obsidian stone was originally from a much larger block. Several of the surfaces were perfectly flat and would have formed the corner of a large cube, if the device was still intact. Three green lines ran irregularly on the flat surfaces, there was too little to determine what pattern, if any, it was trying to make.

“Could you please turn it over?” Anton pointed to the underside. “I think those green lines continue through that stone.”

The Water Sprites followed Mezot’s instructions and raised the chunk. Two Water Sprites extended their arms, making them thin but didn’t appear to lose any of it strength nor was the creature struggling with the weight. Underneath the green lines did continue but began to contract, focusing towards a single point in the missing sections.

“Judging by the angle this thing was as big as I am.” Anton smiled. “What could something that large do?”

“Or what?” Axia said softly. “Someone brought it all this way and probably dropped it over the edge-”

“Or it fell.” Calo offered.

Axia raised her finger and paused for several seconds. “Or it could have fallen.”

“Would have been hard for them to throw it over the edge without damaging the wall.” Anton tapped the secured stones with his boot. “These might not move but it would have left a mark. More than just a mark, it would have pushed all of these over...Mezot? What are you doing?”

Mezot crouched before the obsidian chunk and whispered for the Water Sprites to fully turn it over. She stepped back and pointed to a swirl in the internal green lines. A small sphered glowed from deep within the dark shiny stone.

“That is what’s using magic. I don’t know what it is...Can we break it open?”

“Interfering with magical items hasn’t worked well for us.” Cetina said dryly.

“Do you know how to do this safely?” Anton asked. “Without it killing us?”

“I do.” Mezot almost scoffed. “But…”

“We’ll take it back home. Lock it somewhere underground. I’m sure we can have a vault for this. Is it actually doing anything?”

“No.” Mezot shook her head. “It’s absorbing Earth Mana and its just flowing out. Like it’s trying to put it somewhere but can’t.”

“A leaky tap?” Anton shrugged. “We’ll investigate this later.”

“We’ll send it underground.” Cetina offered. “That way it’s safe and away from prying eyes.”

“That would be excellent. Perhaps one day we can work out what it is and why it’s here.”

As Cetina began to assemble the portal Anton’s thoughts were still stuck on the fate of the Desert Elves, not surprising that they had just solved a mystery merely by looking down a well.

Some sort of United Empire remnant that’s survived all this time? But what are you doing here, raiding and kidnapping all of the Desert Elves? But only them....And this broken magical device...What mess are we about to stumble into?

Anton looked at the piles of bones.

Then again the Desert Elves have been gone for over a hundred years and no one’s seen anything of these United Empire remnants...Does that mean they’re getting closer to revealing themselves?

Anton kicked the dirt, frustrated that the eternal problem was rearing its ugly head in the desert as well; he had so many questions and no way to get any answers, no way to know if it was an imminent and dire threat or merely he was merely overthinking things. He looked again to the piles of skulls as the portal flashed a bright white.

This is anything but minor. I have the feeling that we’re going to meet these remnants before we’re done in this world. I just hope we’re ready for them if they can do this to an entire civilisation.

Anton helped Cetina lift the obsidian slab onto the portal, knowing that he would probably meet them, sooner rather than later.

Volume 05 - Chapter 55 - Verona's Waiting

Verona sighed loudly once again. She found herself sighing quite a bit lately, and it seemed to only be getting worse. Before her lay another feather cloak, this time she was using the bright and soft cloth from Frindal as a base, but work was painfully slow. Not because stitching the feathers to the cloth was particularly difficult with the new fabric, she just did not have the energy and enthusiasm.

"What's wrong?" Kal asked softly. She sat in the far corner of the room, legs brought almost to her chest to act as a stand for the book she was reading. Her bright green eyes had not left the pages.

"I..." Verona sighed and leant back. The chair wobbled and Verona's hands clasped onto the table. This time Kal did look up, her exposed legs tensed with anticipation.

"I'm fine." Verona smiled and lightly patted her stomach. "I really shouldn't be moving like that with this one in here."

Kal nodded and returned to reading.

"I feel just...Bored." Verona rested her head on the table. "It's cold outside, Atros is calm and safe and-"

"And Anton isn't here." Now it was Kal's turn to sigh. "At least when we were in The Shadow Isles it wasn't too difficult to see him. Even though..." Kal rubbed the end of her long, furred ear. "Even though he punished me for your actions."

Verona laughed. "It all worked out in the end, didn't it? I honestly thought he would have gone for Calo and Sheso before Mezot."

"Really?" Kal raised an eyebrow and began to smile wryly. "I think he likes the intelligent, bookish women. I-"

"Is that why you're reading?" Verona laughed. "So you can beat a Master Principle Mage that has spent most of her life surrounded by books?"

"At least I could read when I first arrived in Atros." Kal flicked the page. "And you still can't. I think Rasha's doing better than you."

Verona stuck out her tongue and continued working. Beside her table sat a series of small shelves, containing small open boxes bursting with different coloured feathers. Ever since the Chiroks had arrived they now had a near unlimited supply of their black and blue feathers, especially from the energetic pups who seemed to eat copious amounts of food just so they could shed their feathery coat. Unfortunately they had not been able to capture any more of the Rainbow Birds and her supply of brightly coloured feathers was starting to run low.

"Damn." Verona snapped her fingers. "I'm out of large red feathers."

"It has been a while since Ceccitol and the Dusk Reavers caught those birds." Kal spoke softly. "Perhaps we should ask one of the other Dark Elf clans if they could help you? We are both married to Anton so it shouldn't be too difficult."

"Yeah." Verona stretched her arms over her head, letting out a tiny squeak as her muscles began to protest at the strain. "That sounds like a good idea. Marion...Marion hadn't heard anything more about the Dark Elves acting up or suspiciously, has she?"

“No.” Kal snapped the book shut. "And I don't think they would try and involve a Beastkin that's so close to us, to me specifically. Leran was just testing the waters, so to speak."

"I hope it's nothing." Verona smiled. "Once we've got more Dwarves and Beastkin than Dark Elves it'll be hard for them to do anything anyway."

"It'll be harder for them just because of the colour of their skin." Kal rubbed her face. "I already get enough bad looks because of this."

It sucks that both sides dislike you. Well, most do. I know a fair few that don't.

Verona jumped from her chair. "Let's get something warm to wear before we head out. Unlike you I don't have any fur to protect me."

"Don't act like I'm somehow immune to the cold." Kal gently placed the book down as she stood up. "I'm only half Beastkin, and not one with a thick coat either."

---[]---

Verona wrapped her thick cloak tighter against her body. She wasn't cold, far from it, wearing a Bebbezarian cloak, but it felt good to have the warmth all to herself. Kal walked by her side, her cloak pulled tight around her head as her furred ears caught some of the snow that continuously rained down around them.

"The first winter where I'm not freezing." Verona laughed. "Still...Still hard to believe that last winter I was all alone and freezing underneath a table. Just...Incredible."

“Same.” Kal smiled. “For many it will be their first winter free. But...I think that there isn’t much more to say.”

“Except that we’ve still got a long way to go.” Verona pumped her fist into the air. “A lot more Beast-kin to free and other people to help...Speaking of. What did you think of those Hamtaro’s that Anton brought from Frindal? Not what I was expecting.”

“Could you honestly expect that?” Kal raised a brow.

“Do you think that we should at least check in with them? The Hamtaro’s, I mean. Anton can’t be expected to do everything by himself, there’s no reason we can’t.”

“Delegation is important.” Kal smiled. “At least that's what Cetina’s said. She knows quite a bit more than she lets on.”

“I know what you mean-”

“Not that.” Kal lightly slapped the back of Verona’s head. “But she knows a lot about...merchants and business.”

“That she does. Did you end up finding out where they were going to live?”

“Eider told me.” Kal’s eyes narrowed. “She told us when we first met them. Don’t tell me you were fantasising about Anton and Mezot. Or Zuhura?”

“I was a little distracted. But which way did she say?”

Kal led them towards a large cluster of buildings. Even with the snow raining down around them construction continued unabated, or perhaps because of the cold the people wanted to keep working to stay warm. Atros did not have the capacity to heat every home all the time, at least for now. The building was a little more odd than normal, even for Atros. Everything was being enclosed, the multiple buildings turned into one massive structure without removing the former walls of the buildings.

“Why…” Verona smiled. “I get it. It’s so they’ve got even more room than just those six odd buildings. That’s not a bad idea.”

“Must be one of the Dwarves' ideas.” Kal said idly. “They are really good with this stuff. You remember how happy they were when Anton said they had the opportunity to design whatever they wanted?”

“I do. They looked like I do whenever Anton’s cooked something new.”

Kal prepared to retort but let it drop. Verona smiled as Kal was forced to not chastise her, at least this time.

A few sleepy guards stood outside the buildings, standing around a small brazier as the Human and Dwarven labourers worked around them to not only complete the building but create a tall wooden wall. They gave Verona and Kal a rough salute, their backs straightened at the very least, and allowed them in.

“Oh wow.” Verona stopped, grabbing Kal’s arm. “That looks so adorable.”

She pointed to a miniature playground, currently covered in snow but the perfect size for Hamtaro children.

“It’s good that they’re going to stay and settle down.” Kal slowly nodded. “Hopefully Anton’s fears aren’t about to come true.”

“Yes…”

It’s kind of what he was saying about the Centaurs. There were just so many...And if they were fighting and keeping their numbers low...Hm. I need to ask him about it.

A door to the structure remained open. Within Verona could see the Hamtaro’s, the large mice people skittered about on their hind legs, all chittering in a language she could not understand. As they neared some of the Hamtaro’s noticed and pointed towards them. For a moment they grew nervous but a few chitters to their neighbours and they visibly relaxed.

“Hello.” Verona spoke softly as she passed through the door. She didn’t think the Hamtaro’s were frightened by loud noises, no more than normal people, but she didn’t want to just in case. “How are you all doing?”

The Hamtaro’s chittered to one another, unsure of what to make of them. Verona knew they would not have forgotten them, there was only one person in Atros with silver hair, but spending their entire lives as slaves, pets really, had not done anything good for them.

“Do…” A female Hamtaro, Verona guessed it was female based on the softer features on their face. “Do you want to see Midas?”

“Not particularly.” Verona smiled. “We were just passing by and we wanted to know how you are all going. Everything seems to be going well.”

She nodded to the rest of the building. It was surprisingly spacious, even for the six hundred or so Hamtaro’s, with multiple levels and small spaces for them to sleep. What would once house one or two people now could hold thirty or forty quite easily. Verona had forgotten they could simply sleep on large shelves and take up vertical space. The Snowberry had something similar for the sailors but she did not think something similar would be used here.

“This isn’t too cramped for you?” Kal asked. “How was it like before? In Frindal?”

“Much worse than this.” The Hamtaro smiled. In the distance Verona saw the Hamtaro’s began to clear a path, for a younger male Hamtaro. “But this is so much better. We haven’t had to do much yet...Even though…”

“It’s fine.” Verona smiled. “You haven’t been here long, not to mention that it’s winter and we really can’t ask you to do too much. Not when you’re still wearing rags.”

“Are there better clothes coming?” Kal asked. “It’s probably a little difficult for our seamstresses to get your sizes right.”

“Children's clothes are good enough for us.” Midas, the warrior Hamtaro, said loudly. “We are about the same size. Have you brought any more for us?”

“No.” Kal glanced outside before closing the door slightly. Immediately the cold air dropped and the Hamtaro’s moved a little easier. “But I’m sure we could. If you’re comfortable wearing Bebbezzarian clothes.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Midas tilted his head, his nose twitched slightly. “Wool and cotton is the same, no matter where it comes from.”

True. But I’m sure that we don’t want to buy it from the Seocurians. All the gold we give them would only end up supporting the slavers.

“I’m more worried about the colours.” Kal smirked at Verona. “Especially if Cetina was in charge.”

Verona laughed. “Of all the things that girl can’t do, she can’t pick any colours that look good. It’s always so...In your face.”

“It wouldn’t matter what colour it was.” Midas did not know about Cetina’s preference in colour schemes and could only frown at their strange objections. “So long as it keeps us warm.”

“We’ll make sure someone goes out.” Verona nodded. “So...Everything is going well?”

“It is.” Midas folded his arms. “We have food, water and our injuries, such as they are, are being healed. Later today some of us are going to help with some sorting...But that’s about it. Some of us are going to go for some training after lunch...But…”

“There’s only so much that we can do right now.” Verona chuckled. “Anton’s been saying that a lot recently. But you shouldn’t worry too much about getting ready to fight or work too hard. Your people have only just been freed and most are old or very young.”

“I know…” Midas clicked his mouse tongue. “I’ll never forgive the Frindal’s for what they did to us.”

Guess that’s what the Beast-kin feel to the Seocurians. Just how long are those refugees from Jaka going to be able to stay here? Soon there’ll be thousands of Beast-kin, and they won’t know them from their former masters.

“Nevertheless, we just wanted to make sure that everything’s going well.” Verona continued. “But if everything is we’ll leave you to it.”

“Everything is going well.” Midas shrugged. “Some of the younger Hamtaro’s are asking if they can start training, using weapons like me…I don’t know if they’re ready but they’re determined, I’ll give them that.”

“You are the only reason that they’re alive.” Kal smiled warmly. “So I think they just want to try and emulate you.”

“Perhaps.” Midas smiled. “I just...No. There’s no point in thinking about that now. There’s nothing anyone here could have done. But I just wish to ask that they do not get sent into battle right away. We are so few in number.”

I wonder if those Elders found that special someone for you. Just for keeping your species alive should get you something. I’m sure that if Anton really wanted he probably could have had any woman in Atros he wanted…

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Kal began. “Anton only takes volunteers for combat. But I don’t think that he would be taking them anywhere dangerous.”

“I see.” Midas slowly nodded. “I suppose that will curtail the more exuberant amongst us. Hopefully.”

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.” Verona moved to the door. The Hamtaro’s realised there was about to be a gust of cold wind and began to move away. “Don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions or if something’s not right.”

“We shall.” Midas gave a small wave. “Thank you again. For saving our people.”

“Thank Anton when you see him next.” Kal gently pushed the door open. “He is the one that ensured your freedom.”

The cold air began to flow the moment the door opened and the Hamtaro’s scattered. Thankfully it was almost playful, at least that’s what Verona felt it looked like. They gave the Hamtaro’s one final wave before returning to the snow.

“Not much we really can do then.” Verona’s eyes fell upon a worker hauling up a bundle of wooden planks to extend a roof section. “It’s all just…”

“Happening on its own.” Kal nodded. “But that is a good thing. We don’t have to always be doing something just to get things going...Does that make any sense.” Kal rubbed her stomach. “It feels like Anton’s words are rubbing off on me.”

Verona laughed. “I know that feeling. But we are carrying his children. Maybe that’s why...Hello. Who do we have here?”

Standing outside of the perimeter were a smattering of Dwarves, with Umikgruid at the front. They seemed to not care that the snow was building on their beards and waited patiently with a quiet excitement.

“I wonder what’s got them so excited.” Verona asked aloud. “Maybe it’s those rifle things that Anton’s had them working on. That would make his day, don’t you think?”

“The way he talks about them.” Kal smiled. “It sounds like they’re more important than anything that we’ve done so far. Maybe they really will change the world?”

---[]---

In the Dwarven hold beneath Atros the air was considerably warmer, so warm that Verona felt sweat bead on her eyebrows. It wasn't surprising as the Dwarven Smiths worked tirelessly over roaring forges, designing and perfecting one of Anton's mad ideas.

"Over this way please." Umikgruid smiled and beckoned them to follow. "The testing area is this way."

"Too dangerous to try it in here?" Verona nonchalantly waved to the forges and tables littered with half-finished components and papers covered in frantic scrawls.

"Of course. Far too dangerous." Umikgruid signalled the guards to step aside. "We've already run a few small tests and we think it might be just as deadly as Anton said it was."

"He'll be very happy." Kal said softly. "They'll work against the Seocurian Masters too, won't they?"

"A piece of metal travelling at extremely high speeds does not care for your skin colour or race." Umikgruid said. "Absolutely does not care."

Kal smiled. "If it works just like Anton said imagine the Beastkin slaves with these?"

"Terrifying." Verona smiled. "Utterly terrifying."

Umikgruid led them into a long and almost empty cavern. While it had been roughly cut there were many metal supports and reinforcing running along its entire length.

"Isn't it safer to do this above ground?" Kal waited until Umikgruid looked back at her. "If you have all these supports..."

"For some of the larger things, absolutely. But this isn't going to cause a cave in. Not to mention the sound of this weapon will send all of Atros into a panic."

"I suppose."

Kal didn't look entirely convinced. Verona held her hand until Kal smiled at her.

Umikgruid pointed further along the empty cavern. Several Dwarves stood around a large iron plinth, a metal device lay on top, bolted and strapped down. Verona had asked Anton enough to know what it was. It was a rifle, the first ever produced in Atros and quite possibly the entire world.

"Here are the fruits of our labour." Umikgruid said proudly. "Anton...Your husband does love his complicated requests."

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the challenge?" Verona asked slyly.

Umikgruid scoffed. "Of course not. Our Master Smiths were kept up all day and night thinking about this. Now that it's complete I can say their sleepless nights have been worth it."

I hope that you're saying they wanted to do it rather than being forced. I'll tell Anton later, see what he makes of this.

Umikgruid waved the other Dwarves away and revealed their creation. The rifle from The Shadow Isles lay next to it, completely rebuilt to act as a comparison. There were several distinct differences. Firstly the barrel, the long cylinder coming out of the main structure, was longer and not as smooth. The other components, names of which Verona did not know, were larger and more bulbous. The wood, however, appeared to be of a better quality than the original, fashioned from the hard black and red marbled wood of The Shadow Isles. Overall it was far more menacing than the one from Earth.

The Dwarves had done their best but it was technology and craftsmanship completely foreign to them. Not that Verona was about to criticise them. She would be the first to say she could not do better.

"Looks...Pretty close." Verona gave an appreciative nod. "It looks very good."

"Thank you. But we also have these." Umikgruid held in a small cylindrical piece of bronze that tapered to a point at one end. "This...This damned thing was far more difficult than the rifle itself."

"Definitely more delicate." Kal said softly.

"Delicate?" Umikgruid scoffed. "That's an understatement."

He stepped to the other side and produced a large box. Verona took the time to whisper into Kal's ear.

"He doesn't talk like this to Anton."

Kal smiled. "No. But you wouldn't talk to someone like Leo the same way? Actually..."

"I probably would." Verona smiled. "And I think Anton already has."

Umikgruid waited until they were finished before unveiling what lay in the box. Hundreds upon hundreds of the brass cylinders lay inside, neatly stacked and sitting in the same direction.

"This is all that we currently have. Three hundred bullets. That's it."

"I'm sure Anton would say that is a lot." Kal frowned lightly. "The Shadow Isles were taken with ten."

"I...Wouldn't know either way." Umikgruid picked up a bullet. "This entire pointed section is a solid piece of metal. The rest is filled with the blue explosive powder and a small, unstable granule of Fire Dust at the base here."

Umikgruid pulled back a lever on the rifle, placed the bullet inside the rifle and slid the lever back to its original position.

"There is a pin inside which will cause the blue powder to explode and propel the bullet, the small solid piece at the front, towards the target."

The nearby Dwarves began to clap softly. Umikgruid looked a little embarrassed but allowed it to finish naturally.

Sounds just like Anton explained it to us. Now it's just seeing if it works.

"Since this is the first real test, and given how dangerous this could be, we shall be outside until the test is complete."

Before either could speak the Dwarves collected the box of bullets and the original rifle and began to leave. One tied a thin piece of Arachnid silk, Verona could tell by the colour, to the trigger and began to walk outside. Umikgruid made sure they were all outside before even considering firing the rifle.

"Everyone out?"

The Dwarf holding the silk string glanced inside and gave a nod. Umikgruid could not hold back his smile.

"The first time the Dragon Guard were allowed to create something new and it could change the world." He coughed and steadied himself. "When you're ready."

The Dwarf pulled hard on the silk string. For a single instance Verona was disappointed. The next her ears hurt from the sound of an explosion, followed by metal striking dirt. The Dwarves threw one another worried looks as they peered in.

"It sort of worked." The Dwarf holding the string said.

Umikgruid pushed him aside and entered, a great sigh escaped his lips.

The rifle had ruptured, to a degree. The main piece of the rifle was still in one piece but the barrel had ripped one side completely apart. Verona saw the thin metal piece lying to the side, fresh rock dust covered the metal from where it had struck the ceiling.

"Shit." Umikgruid bit his lip. "This...This is not what I was expecting."

"What actually went wrong?" Kal asked. "Why did it break free?"

Good. Keep him focused on the job and not on his own feelings.

The Dwarves approached the damaged rifle. Small wisps of smoke rose from the broken section. Verona did not know if that was good or bad.

A Dwarf tried to pull back the lever but simply could not. It took three Dwarves to release it, a mangled piece of brass came loose.

"That's the casing." Umikgruid mumbled. He looked to the far wall, to a fresh spot of dust. "So it did actually go out...So why did it do this?"

Verona and Kal approached. Though they were not smiths or metalworkers there was a chance they might spot something they had overlooked.

"It ruptured from the inside." Kal said softly. "How does this Fire Dust and the blue powder mix?"

"Do you think it could be that?" Umikgruid asked. "So far there hasn't...Ah. It's never been inside the rifle before." He ran his hand over the busted barrel. "Perhaps it became too hot? That could be it. Pressure? But..."

He looked down the barrel and clicked his tongue. "There's a massive gouge mark on the inside here. The bullet tried to dig its way through the metal and ripped it apart. Well, at least we know now we need to look at how the bullets are made. Perhaps the Fire Dust slipped and only burned on one side? Something we will have to investigate further and quickly."

"It still did a great job." Verona pointed to the hole in the far wall. "It took out a huge chunk of that stone. Imagine what it would do to a person."

Umikgruid nodded. "Yes...I'm sorry but we're going to have cancer any further tests until we can get the bullet situation sorted. I wish I had a test that worked flawlessly..." He sighed and patted the rifle barrel. "But it is not to be. And we won't test them in the original rifle either, just in case you tell Anton and he's worried about that."

"We will." Verona smiled. "I know he'll be very impressed."

"Apart from that there isn't a lot to show. Most of our effort I'd on perfecting this weapon and beginning production. We're still making weapons and armour for everyone above but this has taken all of our attention."

"That's fantastic." Verona watched the Dwarves begin to disassemble the broken rifle and inspect the bullets. "This is important but not if Atros falls as a result. If you need anything just let us know. While Anton's away you just need to give us the request."

"And for you to give it to someone that can read." Kal said snidely.

Verona jabbed her side but Kal managed to swat her hand away before she could do it twice. They both smiled as Umikgruid watched in silence, unsure of what to make of them.

---[]---

Verona barely had time to step out of the portal before a messenger danced around her face.

"What!?" Verona snapped. "What is so important?"

The Portal guards stood ready to intervene but this time it wasn't necessary.

"It is Sam." The breathless messenger began. "While you were...gone, she has started contractions."

"She's giving birth?" Kal asked. A clawed hand moved to her stomach. "Right now?"

"Yes. I was told to get you specifically." The messenger looked at Kal. "In case there are complications."

Verona and Kal shared a worried look. Though they were both delighted to be bearing Anton's children the actual act of birth was quite a frightening prospect. They had been warned of the pain, an unimaginable pain as the baby would come out of a hole simply too small, and that it was no short affair. It could easily take half a day. And then there were things to be really worried about. Giving birth was not without its risks and if things went wrong they could die.

"We'd...We'd better get going then." Verona laughed nervously. "Don't want to keep her waiting."

The messenger left while they hurriedly walked through the snow to Jeff's house. They continued to throw one another worried glances, the fears of having a baby slowly mulled through their minds.

"We'll be fine." Verona held Kal's arm. "I know we will."

"I'm...I'm only a bit worried about mine." Kal rubbed her stomach. "I'm not really worried about giving birth, but what it'll be. Will it be a quarter Beastkin?"

"So long as it's got fluffy ears and a fluffy tail they'll be fine." Verona smiled. "We'll all be fine. Besides, Anton has his knowledge from that Earth place. He'll know what to do."

Verona wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure herself or Kal. Either way it really didn't work.

Verona first heard the screams. At first she wasn’t sure what she was hearing, echoing down the city streets, but it was undeniably her. Sam screamed so loudly that she could hear her from several houses away. Those walking by took notice, especially the Beastkin and their sensitive hearing.

"She sounds like she's in a lot of pain." Kal bit her lower lip. "A lot of pain."

"Yeah." Verona looked down at her stomach. "There's no way a baby could fit through there." Verona shook her head. "This is going to be one of the most painful things we've ever done."

Two guards stood outside Jeff's house, keeping the curious and worried people at bay. They saw Verona and Kal sift their way through the people and let them in. The screams were very loud now, little more than pleading wails.

You can do this...Kal used to say that lot.

One quick glance and Verona knew she still was.

The guards allowed them in, the screams were now shrill and ear piercing, so loud that Verona winced. They found Sam in her bed, legs splayed open as she held her stomach, her face contorted in unimaginable pain. Sweat drenched her face and pale skin, her hair was stuck to her face. Jeff sat at her side, holding her hand. She held onto his so tight that both had turned white from lack of blood. At her other side stood Bertram and Sybil. Bertram spoke to Sam, not that she was really listening, while Sybil tried to feed Sam a strange green broth.

“Hello.” Sybil waved them closer. “Birth is always such a painful-”

Sam screamed even louder, she doubled over and kicked her legs back and forth. Bertram and Jeff held them down as Sam’s screams ebbed back to a terrible whimper.

“Such a painful thing that all women have to go through.” Sybil continued. “This will help with the pain and help the birth itself. But I think that your magic, Kal, would be best.”

“Right.” Kal reached out and held Sam’s foot. “Do you just want me to take the pain away?”

“Please.” Jeff pleaded. “I can’t bear to hear her scream like this.”

“I was like this when I gave birth to you.” Sybil smiled. “But diminishing the pain should be a good start.”

“Right…” Kal bit her lip and began to chant.

---[]---

“He’s beautiful.” Sam could barely muster the strength to speak, let alone hold her new baby boy in her arms. “Don’t you think?”

Verona nodded. “He is. He really is.”

Verona lent closer and poked the baby’s cheek. The baby squirmed away but did little else but sleep and breathe.

“Don’t they want to suckle right away?” Kal asked. “That’s what Marion said that’s what babies do.”

“Most do.” Sybil gently stroked the wispy hairs on the baby’s head. “But I think he might just be tired.”

Sam smiled at her baby, bringing it closer to her face. “Thank you. Thank you, Kal. I don’t think I would have been able to manage it without you.” She laughed nervously. “I didn’t think it would be so painful.”

“I can’t believe it passed through.” Verona muttered. “There’s no way that should be able to pass through that.”

“It was actually quite a small child.” Bertram said. “All things considered. I’ve seen larger. Much larger, and from women far smaller and frail than Sam.”

Verona didn’t think Sam’s baby was particularly small but she did not doubt Bertram. It only made her worry more about the baby growing in her own stomach.

“Regardless,” Sam waved Jeff closer. “I’m glad it’s over. And that it’s a healthy baby boy.”

Jeff smiled and gave Kal a curt nod. Until now all of Sam’s pregnancies had ended in miscarriages. She was not doing well and Jeff was rightfully concerned that she might not survive, at least mentally, another miscarriage. Kal also healed the baby just after it was born, just in case.

“Have you thought of a name for it yet?” Verona asked. “Any ideas?”

“Not a good one yet.” Sam looked to Jeff. “We’ve got a few floating around, but I don’t think we’re in a rush. Right?”

“No dear.” Sybil gently stroked Sam’s slick hair. “You can take as much time as you need...Actually. Bertram?”

“Yes?”

“Isn’t Sam the first person to give birth after Anton arrived?”

“I…” Bertram held his chin. “Not exactly. But, she is the first of the original people of Atros that has given birth since his arrival. At least...At least a full gestation.”

“That’s something.” Verona rubbed the baby’s head again. “Hey? The first baby since Anton arrived.”

I don’t think that you would call him Anton. Right? That...No. That would be too weird. And I don’t think either of you are like that...What should I call mine? Come to think of it I haven’t given it much thought. Strange, since it’s going to be my child.

“It is.” Sam smiled at Jeff again. “Do you think we’re going to be good parents?”

“Of course we will.” Jeff squeezed her hand back. “I know we will. Thank you, Verona, Kal. Thank you for coming.”

“It’s alright.” Verona felt a silence descend upon them. “We should probably leave you two alone. You’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Verona tapped Kal’s arm and gently pulled her towards the door. Kal frowned at her but already Sam and Jeff were engrossed by each other and their new baby, so much so that they were almost ignoring Jeff’s parents as they tried their best to clean up the mess left behind by the birth, not an inconsiderable amount of mess.

“Let’s go home.” Verona whispered to Kal. “I think we’ve done enough for one day. Don’t you think?”

“We need to get dinner ready.” Kal said absentmindedly.

“After all that?” Verona chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Even if I cooked with those Frindal spices? Maybe some chicken and potatoes?”

“Well...When you put it like that.” Verona smiled at Kal as they exited Jeff’s house.

Verona knew these brief moments of life and joy would not last, not with so many horrible things in the world and what they wanted to do to stop them, but they had to enjoy them, no matter how fleeting. For in the end it was simple little moments like this that they were even fighting for.

Volume 05 - Chapter 56 - Graveyard of Noble Beasts

“More bones.” Anton, standing at the top of Temur’s still moving Sled, shook his head. “I thought I was done with them for a little while at least. And now…”

“There’s an entire valley of them.” Cetina softly added.

“The Valley of Dragons.” Zuhura said softly. “A sacred graveyard and final resting place for the giant, legendary beasts.”

“And a source of bone for your weapons and armour. Correct?”

Zuhura bit her lip for a moment. “It. It is our way of life. Dragon bones are extremely light and strong.”

“I’ve never seen so many before.” Cetina glanced towards the Desert Elves mesa, far beyond sight. “Some of them are bigger than this sled, just resting in the desert and dirt…”

Cetina’s words did not do the Dragon Valley justice. The valley lay seemingly randomly placed in the desert, only the massive light brown mountains kept the sand from overwhelming it. Within the narrow passes Anton saw fields of bones, most were placed randomly but many were in the shape of a dragon, almost identical to the green forest dragons they had watched flying over the Wood Elves territory. The further he looked the more he saw; bleached white bones lay against the innumerable smaller boulders where the Dragons had breathed their last breath, some curled up as if they were merely going to sleep but Anton didn’t see any that were in a state of decay. However the valley was incredibly large and mostly obscured by the large mountains.

Anton sniffed at the air. “I can’t smell anything. Do Dragons...rot, different to everything else?”

“I don’t know.” Zuhura softly replied. “My tribe never reached this far. They never reached this far north.”

The Sled slowly stopped, the Weevil grumbled softly and stomped its feet on the ground. After a few stomps it curled its legs underneath its body and seemingly fell asleep. Anton looked back and saw the other Sleds and Weevils doing the same thing, slowing then the insects stomped their feet. He had not seen them do this before. Perhaps being so close to dead Dragons made them nervous.

“Insects have better senses of smell than us.” Anton said softly. “How long do you think we’re going to be here?”

“A day or so.” Zuhura looked towards the rear of the sled. Anton could see Temur’s head slowly bobbing up the wooden walkway.

"We'll be stopping here for about a day or so." Temur said loudly. "We'll resupply our collection of Dragon Bones, fix up what we can and move on."

Temur reached their platform, behind him walked Bedes and his two minders.

"Then another few days and we'll reach the border of the Feral Beastkin." Temur softly sighed. "If you wish to stay, just say so. We'll be more than happy to take you back, when we're in that area."

"We'll be fine." Anton said. "Right now I'm very interested in this Dragon Valley of yours. Do Dragons rot..."

Anton's eyes were drawn to Mezot, standing at the end of the walkway and staring intently at the fields of bones.

"Mezot?" Anton softly asked.

Mezot snapped her head away and pointed at the valley. "Those bones radiate considerable magical power. Much more than I thought could be possible in these lands." Mezot glanced at Anton. "The further East we travel the less of the Mana Dampening field I feel."

"I thought it had dropped a little. Not too much, but something." Anton tapped the wooden railing. "Do you think they could be useful for our Academy?"

"I think so." Mezot gripped her staff tight. "Charms need to be made from metal but it could increase its power. It will probably make the Charm more unstable too..."

Mezot trailed off into mutterings beneath her breath. Anton shook his head and turned his attention back to Temur.

"If you are harvesting the bones can we come as well? I think Mezot might be able to pick out a few things that might be valuable to us."

Temur shrugged. "I don't see any problem with that. Just be careful though. There are creatures that live in the boneyard that aren't seen anywhere else. And they are quite vicious and violent."

"I guess they do rot normally then." Anton said softly. "What-"

His words were cut short by a series of short trumpet blasts, different to what he had heard before. Zuhura tensed, fearing it was another Sun Walker assault, but it was far more benign. On the horizon another Nomad Tribe was heading towards them, towards the Graveyard to be more precise. They too had Weevils pulling Sleds, not as many as them, but far more camels and people on foot.

"I remember you saying not all of the Tribes are friendly." Anton said softly. "Will our talents be necessary here?"

Temur squinted towards the approaching tribes. "No. No I don't think so. They wouldn't be so bold."

"Unless it is a trick." Cetina said. "Pretend they are friendly so they can get close and attack while you are disorganized. If it works then it's a worthwhile tactic."

"I don't think..." Temur's demeanour changed. "Actually, I think it would be best if you stayed, just in case. I honestly doubt it but one can never be too certain."

---[]---

The other Nomad Tribe, the Alqanun Almultawi, was also coming to collect Dragon Bones for their camp and to trade with the Frindal's in the west. Compared to Temur's tribe the Alqanun Almultawi were certainly more standoffish and haughty even to one another. Anton could tell they held Anton in high regard, for the simple fact he was a foreigner and would have knowledge of the outside world. His female companions, less so.

Both Tribes established their camps and readied expeditions into the Dragon Graveyard. Those daring to venture in waited at the entrance to the Graveyard, standing before a significant change in colour of the soil. Nomads streamed past them, all eager and excited to begin their plundering of bones. Everyone that entered was heavily armoured, by their standards, even the few women that were accompanying them.

"So are they going to be doing the work?" Anton asked softly.

Zuhura pointed to the large bags the Nomad women had slung around their shoulders. "Those contain the tools necessary to harvest Dragon bones. They are light but extremely strong. Normal iron isn't strong enough."

"Trust them with something that expensive but not with a blade?" Anton shook his head. "Not my place to judge, or interfere."

"Where could you go even if you stole it?" Zuhura mumbled, barely audible behind her veil.

Mezot and Axia were still some way behind. The mother and daughter held their staffs and Charms high, muttering to one another as they studied the valley.

"Are you two coming or what?" Anton shouted.

"Almost done." Axia shouted back. "We just wanted to check something."

"What would that be?" Sheso asked.

Mezot did not reply until she had re-joined them. "I can feel many sources of mana in there, but I had a thought that I might not be able to locate them once I'm inside the valley." Mezot waved her free hand into the air. "Since it'll be all around me. Us. It'll be all around us."

"Excellent idea, Mezot." Anton found it a little endearing how Mezot would happily take even the most basic compliment. "Tell us if we need to leave so you can get your bearings. That goes for you too, Axia."

Axia gave a rough salute. Those from the Alqanun Almultawi gave her dirty looks, the notion that women should not be fighters was well and truly ingrained into their collective psyche.

Well-meaning a long time ago. But I doubt it was ever intended to be this restrictive.

“I suppose that we should not delay any longer.” Anton received a whiff of the putrid, rotting corpses. “Is there not something better than we can wear than this? I get the feeling that everything’s going to get ruined by the end of this...At least Kal’s not here. She’d be throwing up everywhere. And I honestly can’t blame her.”

“She would be having trouble.” Calo smiled. “But it’s not like we’re much better.”

Anton began to walk towards the entrance. The smell grew more and more intense, to the point where his eyes began to water. The Nomads nearby were equally suffering. It continued to grow more intense until they reached the bottom of the shallow valley. Almost instantly the smell dissipated and the other Nomad's quickly recovered.

Mezot pulled a strange face as everyone else was simply glad they could breathe a little easier.

"I thought so." Mezot mumbled. "It feels like it's all around me. Like it's...Like it's infused into the ground and stone."

"Is that even possible?" Anton looked to the nearest Dragon skeleton. "I suppose when it was rotting some of the fluids drained into the soil."

"That's disgusting." Axia raised her boot and frowned. "Please don't tell me we're going to be collecting this dirt...Shit-"

Axia stopped dead and avoided Mezot's furious gaze. Zuhura knelt down and touched the dirt with her finger, much to the disgust and bemusement of the twins.

"Don't eat it." Calo said softly.

"I'm not going to." Zuhura sighed. "But I have seen this for sale. Supposedly it heals your body and increases male libido."

"Everything supposedly does that." Anton scoffed. "But most of the time it's just a trick, mind games on the part of the unwitting purchaser."

"I believe Hazm used this once." Zuhura smiled and flicked the dirt away. "I don't recall him using it again."

"I'm sure the ladies loved rolling around with someone that smells like that." Anton's words elicited a smirk from Zuhura and Cetina. "Mezot? Axia? Could you two please lead us on? The sooner we are done here the better."

Mezot and Axia removed the cloth covering their Charms and began leading them deeper into the valley. The Dragon skeletons they passed were utterly immense, a single tooth was larger than he was tall, but all had already been harvested, to some degree. Many bones were outright missing, others had strips taken out but the skulls were always in one piece.

"Zuhura? Is there some reason they don't take the teeth?" Anton pointed to the nearest Dragon skull. "They look unbelievably sharp. You wouldn't need metal spears if you had those."

"I am not sure why, Anton. But I believe that many have tried before." She approached the Dragon skull and pointed just above the teeth. "Many scratch marks... Many attempts."

"Mezot?" Anton waited until she realized who had just called to her. "Is there any sort of magic still emanating from the skull? Something that would make it stronger?"

Mezot lowered her Charm towards the skull and frowned. "There...There is something. It's not much but there is mana still coming out of the skull. It appears..." Mezot stepped back and pointed at the centre of the skull, right between the giant empty eye sockets. "There. It's coming from in there."

"Some sort of organ." Anton clicked his tongue. "Now way flesh would have survived. But some sort of mineral could easily remain. Doesn't look like there's any other skulls that have been cracked open."

Cetina drew her sword and tapped the skeleton's nose. "This is really hard. I...What are you glaring at me for?"

Anton knew none of them, even Zuhura, would do such a thing. Nor was he surprised when he saw a group of Nomads standing a few meters away. Alqanun Almultawi Nomads.

"What?" Cetina asked again.

"Women should not use weapons." nA Alqanun Almultawi Nomad spoke in his aloof voice. "Such things are men, not for women."

Before Cetina could respond Zuhura stepped between them. "They are not of any Tribe and do not have to follow our customs or traditions. They have chosen to follow as many as they are comfortable with, without impeding on their own traditions. And you are from a different Tribe so it is of no concern to you." Zuhura gently motioned for them to move around. "So. Please. Continue with your work."

"Don't..." The Alqanun Almultawi Nomad tried to puff himself up but it quickly turned to bluster. The others in his group followed him closely, all giving Cetina dirty looks, even the twins as their sheathed weapons hanged from their hips.

"I'll be glad to get back home." Cetina mumbled. "Hopefully the Feral Beastkin aren't like this."

"I would not know." Zuhura said softly.

"Thanks, Zuhura." Anton quickly gave Cetina's arm a squeeze. "Didn't think you would have shut them down like that."

"I only spoke the truth." Zuhura smiled. "And I hope that I would have had your support if things escalated into a scuffle."

"Wouldn't have gone well for them." Axia's laugh trailed off as she looked to her Charm. "I saw a few at the back looking at these."

"Definitely keep an eye out." Anton looked to Calo and Sheso. "I'm going to need to rely on you two to keep a keen eye on everything."

The twins smiled and gave a rough salute.

Mezot, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired, tugged on Anton's hand. "Can we open one of these skulls? I want to see what is creating all this mana."

"Let's have a bit more of a look around the valley first. See if there's any around here that have already cracked before we start smashing up new ones."

When they passed the skeleton they came across the first Nomads harvesting Dragon Bone. By using a mixture of saws and chisels they were able to smash apart the bones into long strips, ideal for working into whatever shape they so desired. Anton was not surprised when he saw the tools were made from a white metal. Adamantium, the strongest metal in this world and something that Anton had not come across much.

"How much would one of those tools cost?" Anton softly asked Zuhura. "Are there Adamantium mines in Frindal?"

"There is one, to the far West. But I have not seen it myself. Do you wish to purchase one to bring back to your city?"

"Just a curiosity." Anton smiled.

Strange that the source of the Mana Dampening is in the same place. Related maybe?

"But our funds are not unlimited nor should be used frivolously."

Zuhura tilted her head. "You gave Sultan Hazm a huge Tanzanite crystal for the Hamtaro's?"

"That was not a frivolous purchase." Anton said. "I'm sure that Midas and the others will become quite useful, once they've recovered and had time to settle in."

Zuhura slowly nodded as they continued into the valley. The further they walked the older the Dragon Bones became, the more had been stripped away. Some were so old that only a few fragments remained, and the skull. The skull always remained, almost always untouched except for a few attempts. Anton saw tiny shavings of Adamantium embedded in the bone.

"I bet they stopped that really quick." Anton mused.

Calo and Sheso suddenly stopped. Anton gently grabbed Mezot's and Axia's clothes, as they were leading, and pulled them back. Neither asked why and waited for an explanation.

"I saw something." Sheso spoke softly. "Something darting about on the ground."

She and her sister drew their short swords and pointed them towards a particularly dense pile of bones. Anton saw something move in the shadows and gently ushered the Mages and Zuhura behind him. A small insect emerged, no larger than his boot. It looked remarkably similar to a Pill Bug but its mouth was long and pointed, a sharp needle like protrusion slowly bounced up and down while small antennae twitched back and forth.

"Parasite?" Anton asked aloud. "Looks like its designed to crawl underneath a scale and suck out blood."

"I don't like the look of it." Zuhura held Anton's arm, disgust and no small amount of fear covered her face. "Can you get rid of it?"

"I can." Axia said proudly.

After a brief chant a fireball erupted from her Charm and obliterated the insect. Axia grinned but that quickly turned into a frown.

"I...I didn't use any magic."

"Impossible." Mezot chanted and summoned a small icicle. "It...It did not use...How?"

Anton checked himself. He did not use any mana either. Thankfully his tail was not accumulating a Charge either.

"There's that much Dragon blood floating around it's not a surprise." Anton pointed to a Dragon skull near where the insect had emerged. "Maybe that's why they're so powerful. They just accumulate it as they fly around and can draw upon it at will. Like a battery."

Zuhura refused to let Anton's arm go as they approached the skull. At first it looked normal but something had broken it clean down the center, the two halves simply rested against each other.

“Vero...This would be the perfect place for Verona’s blood.” Anton mused. “It could just move-”

“Blood?” Zuhura asked softly. “What do you mean blood?”

“Verona can control blood.” Mezot began. Her face brightened, her fingers tightened on her staff. “There is no Principle Mage that...No. I must remain calm. But...From what I’ve seen it is very useful, even if Verona appears to have issues with the source.”

“Jira can be a bit of a bitch. If Verona drinks any blood, which she’s around all the time, she’ll go insane. So...We’re working on things that mean that won’t be a problem.” Anton clapped his hands together. “Mezot? How about your little Water Sprites? They seem like they’re strong enough to topple this skull over.”

“And yours?”

“One’s a flying crow and the others are extremely hot. Though I don’t think that it’ll damage these bones I don’t want to risk it.”

Mezot began to summon eight small Water Sprites. The small water creatures bobbed about in the dirt. While normally they were completely emotionless, patiently waiting for an order to fulfil, now they appeared nervous and apprehensive. Their water heads twitched nervously from side to side, they even looked up to the empty sky.

Are they worried about Dragons attacking? We’ve only seen the three over the Wood Elves territory. I wonder just how ferocious these massive beasts are in a fight?

Mezot noticed and threw Anton a worried look. As neither had an answer they silently decided to continue whilst taking caution. While the Water Sprites were still hesitant they followed Mezot’s orders without question. The eight slowly clambered onto the Dragon Skull and began to push against the fracture. With one mighty heave the Skull fell apart. Zuhura screamed, holding tight onto Anton’s hand. Out of the empty brain cavity hundreds of small insects streamed out in every direction, their thin need-like noses twitching at the air.

“That’s a lot!” Axia backed away and began to chant. The insects were not heading directly for them but Anton didn’t like the way their noses were slowly turning towards them.

Mezot and Axia loosed a small volley of simple magic at the Insects. The Ice and Fire struck the closest insects and disintegrated them. This time the shots did not kill all of the insects, those partially wounded uttered a terrible screech. The remaining insects scrambled back into the pile of bones. Anton was a little disgusted that some decided to try and eat the dying, puncturing their wounded scales with their long proboscis. Mezot’s Water Sprites dived down from the Dragon Skull and attacked the fleeing insects. They screeched as they fought for their way into the pile of bones and out of sight.

The insects' screams attracted small groups of Nomads, from both Tribes.

“What was that?” One asked. Anton was glad it wasn’t the Nomad they had the run-in with.

“A lot of little insects.” Anton said. “Don’t worry. We’ve cleared them off.”

The Nomads saw the patches of scorched and frozen ground, along with the eight Water Sprites standing near the piles of bones. An insect dared to stick its proboscis out and was set upon by the Water Sprites.

“I see…”

“What are they?” Zuhura slowly loosened her grip. “Are...Are they a threat?”

“Only if there’s a lot of them. But fire always drives them away.” The other Nomad groups began to disperse when they realised there wasn’t an issue. “I think they live on the Dragons. Then when they die they come here and then they’re stuck.”

“There must be something for them to live on...Unless they can live just from magic…” Anton rubbed his beard. “Goblins don’t need food, only water. Eating grass is only something they do to fill their stomachs...Thank you. I don’t think that we’ll be going any further.”

“Right…” The Nomad gave them a gentle wave as he walked away. “Just be careful. There’s a lot of them lurking around the bigger piles of bones.”

Anton gave another wave as the Nomads walked away. He looked to Zuhura, to the hand still holding his sleeve tight.

“Forgive me, Anton.” Zuhura forced herself to let go. “I do not like insects.”

“Then you’ll hate the ones beneath Atros.” Cetina murmured.

“Ever since.” Zuhura threw Cetina a quick glance. “Ever since I was a little girl. I’m sure something happened but they have always disgusted me.”

“Thankfully we don’t have anything like that at home.” Anton smiled. He was about to repeat and explain what Cetina meant but decided against it. “Maybe I should bring out a Fire Imp or two. Just to make sure.”

Just as Mezot and Aixa had said he used no mana to summon the creatures. Again they looked nervous. There was nothing through the connection they shared, only that they behaved strangely. Anton asked the Fire Imp what was wrong but it didn’t answer, he had no idea if it couldn’t or wouldn’t so had to drop it.

The Dragon Skull was surprisingly normal on the inside. No sign of strange metals or organs that survived decomposition.

“Can you isolate it?” Anton nodded to the nervous Fire Imp. “He could probably cut it with his sword. Maybe it’ll just melt it through, or the Dwarves can have a go at it later.”

Mezot hesitantly walked around the skull. There were no little insects to attack her but even he felt a little nervous knowing they were still alive just a few meters away.

“It’s just above the eyes.” Mezot stepped back. “I think it’s...Hang on.”

A Water Sprite moved and sat on what Anton presumed to be the source Mezot had detected. The Fire Imp jumped onto the skull, Mezot silently ordered the Water Sprite away, and drove its flaming sword deep into the bone. The bone resisted, turning black before slowly allowing the blade through. It took some time but the Fire Imp managed to break something free. It returned the blackened chunk to Anton.

“Any...I can see something.”

Anton used his dagger and prodded around a faint green in the burnt bone. The charred bone fell away, revealing a thin green crystal. While thin and large enough to fit into his hand it was barely a centimetre thick. There appeared to be no pattern to the crystal. If anything it looked organic, not surprising where they found it.

Mezot lowered her charm near the crystal. “It is producing a small amount of mana. Not much, but something. Far, far more than a normal person.”

“Any way we could do something with this?” Anton gently passed her the stone. “Like could use these as boosters? Keep using magic when our normal supply has run out?”

“I suppose so.” Mezot looked to the sheer mountains forming the valley. “But I don’t know if we can discover that here. If it does…”

“We’ll check when we’re outside.” Anton gently took the gemstone from her hand and hid it in a small pouch. “Better not say anything if anyone asks. This looks like it might be valuable. If the others find this we could find these amongst our enemies. And that is something we don’t want.”

“I...I understand.” Mezot frowned as she held her staff tight. “Do you think we might have to fight Graterious one day? I don’t like the idea of fighting the students. They were good...Especially after my thoughts and mind had improved.”

“It is a distinct possibility.” Anton said, Mezot’s shoulders dropped. “But we will do our best to avoid it. Besides, those young students might be more open minded than their peers. Perhaps we could convince them to join us? So long as they see the Beast-kin as more than just slaves.”

Mezot seemed slightly happier. Anton hoped they could be convinced to join, but that would still be some years away. There was no way students with a promising career ahead of them would join a small town in the middle of nowhere. But one issue needed be dealt with at a time.

---[]---

After collecting another circular green gemstone from the separated Dragon Skull, along with several of the sharp teeth, they returned to the Nomad Tribes. There was nothing else within the valley apart from more and more Dragon Skeletons and they were only originally visiting as a curiosity. More time was needed to properly investigate the entire valley but the two circular crystals were more than enough reward for their effort.

Anton was slightly put off by the awful smell of rotting flesh once they began the ascent. That was still a mystery, one which Anton did not care to wait and find the answer.

“Looks like we’re about to get into a bit of trouble.” Anton mused.

He nodded to the two Nomad camps. While before their relations had been stand-offish they were now quite involved. Mainly with shouting and wild gesticulation. None of it looked good.

“For fuck’s sake.” Cetina clicked her tongue. “All because I used a sword?”

“They really don’t like anyone breaking their traditions.” Sheso said softly. “But it doesn’t...Should we just try and walk past like it’s not our problem.”

“It isn’t our problem.” Anton said calmly. “And we’re not surrendering our weapons or giving into whatever they have to say.”

Cetina smiled and pulled close to Anton. The Alqanun Almultawi Nomad’s notice their approach and began to push towards them. Anton raised his hand and summoned a small Fire Bomb. The burst of fire magic was enough to stop them, to give them pause. The others merely laughed, some even urged them to try something. None of the Alqanun Almultawi’s were willing to do anything now and slowly dispersed, glaring angrily at Cetina and the twins. Anton quietly told them to ignore everything they said and did and simply walk towards Temur’s Sled. No one tried to interfere with them as they silently made their way back to their room as the very top.

“Anton?” Calo gently waved her hand. “Is it possible that we can go home? Not! Not forever!” Calo laughed nervously. “But there are a few things that we’d like to do there. Tell our people what’s out here.”

“So long as you aren’t giving them places to raid.” Anton said dryly, smirking slightly.

The twins pouted.

“We’re beyond that...Now.” Calo shrugged. “But we would still like to go home for a bit.”

“Sure. Just try and be back before sundown. We don’t know if the Mana Dampening Field is going to suddenly pick up and make the portals useless. I’d prefer to have as many hands as possible.”

“We won’t be that long.” Sheso smiled. “We’ll be back soon.”

The twins gave a tiny wave and entered their room.

“I wish to study this further.” Mezot reached into Anton’s pocket and took both of the crystals. “I believe I have an idea of how to make this into this battery that you spoke of. It doesn’t work just yet…”

Mezot created a small Icicle. “I still used mana, despite holding both of these. But I believe I have an idea. A book-”

“Did you manage to get a copy before we had to flee?” Anton snapped his fingers. “We should have checked Frindal...No. They wouldn’t have any books on Principle Magic...Actually a collector might have one. Zuhura?”

“Sultan Hazm may have some books on Principle Magic.” Zuhura said calmly. “As a curiosity. There may also have been some collectors. I’m sure they might be willing to see you rare books, but at a great price.”

“Magic books in Frindal would be extremely rare.” Anton slowly nodded. He looked towards the Alqanun Almultawi’s camp. It looked as if they were trying to raise an even larger fuss about Cetina wielding a sword. “This won’t be done for a while. But I doubt they’re actually going to try and attack over something like this...Still…”

“I’ll take a nap for a little while.” Cetina gently shook her head. “I’m sure they’re looking up here for me.”

“We’ll wait out here then.” Anton said. “Though I’m not as good of a soldier as you I think I can hold my own, especially with my magic.”

Cetina smiled and gave his hand a little kiss. Everyone entered the room, leaving Anton and Zuhura alone. Zuhura gently rested her hands on the metal railing. It was the first time they had been alone together, not that she looked like she felt threatened or worried in any sense.

“Anton? Why…” Zuhura turned towards him. A hand moved to her face as she removed the veil covering her face. “Why are you going so far from your home?”

“Beyond saving the Beast-kin?”

“Yes...Seems like so much…” Zuhura almost smiled. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve been asked this. Your other companions, they do not look like they all arrived at the same time. Especially the twins.”

“No. But...It is an interesting question, I suppose.” Anton leant against the railing. “I suppose it would be in order to survive.”

Zuhura frowned.

“Have you heard...No. I don’t think you would have heard what happened in Graterious and Bebbezzar?”

“No. Apart from Bebbezzar being in the middle of an extremely destructive civil war.”

“There are creatures coming from another world, another dimension I believe, and they’ve appeared in both of those places. I don’t know if they’re actually as destructive as I’ve been told by the Gods, but they will be arriving in our lands sometime next Spring. So we need to be ready for them. Not to mention that we need to be strong enough to fend of Qaiviel, should they attack, Graterious, should they try and colonise our lands, and the Goblin menace to the south. It’s...It’s a mess, honestly.”

Anton smiled. “I would love nothing more than to just stay in Atros and relax. Spend my days tinkering with my ideas and getting to know people better.”

Zuhura raised a brow. She read a little too far into his words.

“But if I were to do that Atros would fall. So...In order to get to the point where I can really relax, I need to travel the world and get as much help as I can get.”

“That...Doesn’t sound that odd.” Zuhura leant against the railing, staring out into the deserts. “What does your city look like? When the snows aren’t falling? Is it really that green?”

“Oh yes. As far as you can see. Tall grass swaying in the breeze, trees so thick and tall that they can block out the sun and everything in between.”

“Seems incredible.”

“It is. But this land has its own charms.”

Zuhura laughed. “Being with your family is always a good thing.”

Her laugh slowly faded away. A silence fell over them, not unpleasant but a silence all the same. Anton tapped the wooden railing.

“Normally, normally when we come to these sort of places we would arrive right in the middle of something interesting. Like an Ancient Dragon coming here to rest.” Anton looked to the empty skies but found nothing. “Normally something like that would happen. Not today, it seems.”

“I thought it was a normal day when you arrived in Sultan Hazm’s Palace.” Zuhura smiled. “I was just waiting for the day that Hazm tried to lay his hands on me.”

“Would you have actually let Hazm do that?”

“I think I would have run.” Zuhura ran a finger along the edge of her headscarf. “I would not want my first time to be with that man.”

“I wonder if he would just flop on top of you and try and make you do the work.”

Zuhura burst out laughing. She held her mouth as redness shot over her face. Anton found himself smiling as well. The thought and image was not a pleasant one.

“That…I won’t say that I’ve seen anything.” Zuhura’s laugh slowly turned into a frown. “Are...Are you not worried that Hazm was using you?”

“About what?”

“Giving you me, by putting me into your service…”

“Not really.” Anton smiled. “I’m not worried if they think that they’ve used me. Right now everything’s going pretty well. Besides, Hazm only gained a little bit of credibility with a single Nomad Tribe while I now have you to guide us through this land, and soon your complete freedom.”

Zuhura shook her head. “You’re a very strange man, Anton. I’m sure you’ve heard that before.”

“You’re certainly not.” Anton laughed as they looked out into the endless desert. “And you won’t be the last.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 57 - Al Qadikha

For the first time Anton saw something other than endless dunes from the top of Temur’s sled. The dunes abruptly stopped in the distance, not through magical means but a short but sheer stone wall plateau that stretched from one horizon to the other. Given their advantage in height Anton could see the land extended far beyond his sight, dotted by yet more tall, brown mountains.

“We are nearing our first destination.” Zuhura said softly. “Al Qadikha. The Last City.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Zuhura turned slowly to meet his gaze. “There are surely Feral Beast-kin cities on that plateau?”

Zuhura’s blank face slowly turned into a smile. “Of course. But I do not know their customs or even locations. I’m afraid that we will have to gather local assistance if we...You, wish to proceed.”

"Hopefully there's an actual trader or something." Anton nodded to the sheer cliff face. "A series of pulleys and platforms, rather than some winding donkey track up those stones."

The city was no mere collection of shacks at the edge of the world. It was surprisingly large, with a high roughly cut stone wall to keep out intruders and, most importantly, sand. A few wisps of smoke rose into the air, so Anton knew someone was still alive in this place unlike The Mesa. That place still worried him. The metal badge still worried him.

Heavy footsteps announced Cetina's arrival to their platform.

"So how are we going to do this?" Cetina wrapped an arm around Anton's and pulled close. "Are we just going to ask Temur for directions or are we going to strike out on our own?"

"Definitely Temur's advice. The chances of us finding someone else like Zuhura is slim, to say the least."

Zuhura raised a black brow. "Another?"

"You've brought us this far." Anton tapped the wooden railing. "Without incident, at least with the Nomad Tribes. Those other ones were a little weird, just insular."

"I did my best." Zuhura bowed her head. "But, in all honesty, I have not been that necessary. Your magical healing has allowed any transgression to be forgiven, not that there have been any."

"Regardless, I intend to honour my agreement with Hazm and have you set free after we make contact with the Feral Beastkin." Anton smiled. "Not that I actually have slaves, but the idea doesn't fit well with me. You can go wherever you want, we'll even drop you off if it's somewhere beyond Frindal, or you can come and live in Atros. It doesn't...It is entirely up to you what you do from then on."

Zuhura's brows furrowed as she thought intently. Anton caught her eyes flicking back and forth, pondering and weighing up her options.

"I do not know what I wish to do." Zuhura softly spoke. "But I am grateful that you are keeping your word."

Honestly, you could just wander off in Al Qadikha and I probably would never be able to find you again. Doesn't make me a good slave owner, now does it?

"I could use a housekeeper..." Anton trailed off before clapping his hands. "A discussion for-"

"Okay."

"Okay for what?" Cetina asked. Judging by the way her fingers held his arm she knew the answer.

"I believe that when we first met I explained my duties and abilities." Zuhura spoke a little louder and more confidently than normal. "I know all types of housework and domestic duties. And I saw that your...Wives, in...that place, will be giving birth some day soon."

Zuhura placed a hand on her chest. Again Anton noticed how it did not move far before it found resistance. "I can assist with such matters. Unlike the rest of your companions I do not know combat nor do I wish to learn."

"Self defence is always important to know." Anton said. Cetina squeezed his arm tighter and nodded like a knowledgeable tutor. "But that doesn't sound like a bad idea. We will discuss it further tonight. When we're safe and have lots of time on our hands."

"As you wish, Anton."

"I wonder what they're going to say when we have to say goodbye?"

---[]---

"Please don't go!" Bedes's voice was a strange mixture of a cry and a wail. "I still want to hear about the rest of the world!"

They stood at the border of Al Qadikha. The Nomads were disembarking and establishing a trading camp. The people of Al Qadikha surged out of their town to barter, mostly metals and even some gnarled wood, though Anton had not seen any trees that would produce such twisted wood. They stood to the side of the swirling mass, protected by Temur's warriors. Most of the city folk regarded them with equal measures of confusion and fascination. None had skin as pale as theirs.

"We'll meet again." Anton smiled, knelt down and patted Bedes's head. "But if we don't go now how will we have more stories to tell?"

"I...I guess so." Bedes softly sighed. "Thank you for healing my sickness. I don't think I would still be here if it wasn't for you."

Anton stood up and gave his hair a final ruffle. "Just remember to stay out of those strange places. There's always a reason why no one goes there, be it people or animals, even if it's not apparent at first."

Bedes suppressed a sniffle and returned to his minders. He didn't think he had made much of an impact on the boy, they had spoken at length over dinner regarding the wider world. For a boy that had never seen fields of grass or air that did not burn the skin such stories and tales would have been truly alien and fascinating for him.

"I believe you shall be talked about for some time." Temur offered his hand which Anton took. "It's not often that we have guests, let alone ones that can mend our sick and save us from the Sun Walker fanatics."

"These people?" Axia nodded to the town gate. "Is there going to be any problem with that?"

"Shouldn't be. Their religion has not reached this far. And I don't think it ever will." Temur scoffed. "I don't think they would like the idea of paying massive tithes to some arse living it well on the coast. Not to mention the fanatics hate the Ferals, so there goes their entire income to please that same arse living easy along the coast."

"Money..." Anton smiled. "Money always wins in the end. For better or worse. Now. We need to speak with someone that can get us to speak with the Feral...Beastkin leadership. Lamia's, or whatever form it takes. As a final favour to us, any suggestions?"

Temur glanced at Zuhura. "In lieu of better alternatives I would try Mike's Bazaar. He acquires most of his goods from the Ferals so he should have some connections. Tell him that you know me and have helped our entire Tribe. He can be a little bit of a twat, but he'll come round if you're nice enough. Oh, and this is important, don't let him think for a moment that any of you are available. If he gets rebuffed he'll throw a tantrum and you'll never get anything out of him."

"What a charming man." Anton said dryly.

"That means you too."

"Me?" Anton frowned deeply as he pointed to himself. "He...I thought that sort of thing wasn't acceptable in Frindal."

"It's not. But he's one of the most powerful and certainly the richest man out here. That gives him a certain amount of leeway when dealing with such matters." Temur frowned deeply. “And get to his head.”

"Is he handsome?" Sheso asked flatly.

Temur smiled. "Not exactly. But I wouldn't call him ugly either."

"I see..." Sheso's eyes raked over Anton. "I see..."

Calo pulled a strange face. "Do I even want to know what you're thinking right now?"

"Probably not." Sheso smiled. "I...No probably not."

The wind loudly whistled through their silent group. Bedes frowned at everyone, he didn't understand what was being said. Their youngest, Axia, did and only pulled a disgusting look towards Axia.

"Is-Is there a reason that you cannot come with us?" Anton asked. "Surely it would be easier for everyone if you came with us."

"It would. Certainly. But the other Elders..." Temur looked to the other Sleds as their Weevils settled down for a long nap. "They want to discuss where we're going next. I don't see a problem with me not attending but they'll throw a hissy fit if I don't. They can behave like little children at times."

"And a fantastic excuse to get high while others do the work." Anton said dryly.

Temur laughed. "That it is. I'm sure that's an important reason. Nevertheless, unless things go poorly at the Bazaar this is where we must part ways."

"Before we do that." Anton lightly tapped Cetina's side. "There is something that we would like to give you, on the express promise that you keep it hidden and don't tell anyone else. That means you, Bedes."

"I can keep a secret." The young boy smiled. "So what presents do you have for us?"

Cetina passed over a bag of portal stones and a linked pair of communication pens. He explained how they worked, they listened intently but it was clear to Anton that if it were anyone else they would have dismissed them as a scam.

"Fascinating." Temur held the hessian bag close to his chest. "This way we can keep in contact, should the worst befall us." His eyes fell upon Bedes's minders. "I don't think you need to be told what will happen to you if anything happens to them."

The two nodded furiously while Bedes did not understand the implied threat.

"Just remember that if something happens to them it'll be extremely difficult to replace them. So...Do keep that in mind."

"I have the perfect place." Temur nodded back to his Sled. "I have to be going now. Good luck with your research."

"Thank you." Anton could not help but smile. "I'm sure in a few winters everyone will be talking about it."

Temur did not know his words were not egotistical bravado. He simply smiled, gave a final wave and left. Bedes minders were a little more enthusiastic but Bedes himself waved frantically, all of which was returned until they were swallowed by the crowds. Temur's warriors quickly began to disperse, giving them quick nods of approval before returning to their Elder.

"Are we sure we can trust this Mike?" Cetina asked. "Sounds a bit like a creep."

Zuhura scoffed. "I will not be entertaining any notions from such a debased man. No matter what for or for whom." Zuhura threw Anton a long, sideways glance.

"I have no intention of trying anything like that." Anton said. "Or even asking, even in jest."

Everyone's faces brightened.

"Hopefully money will be enough for him." Anton frowned. "But if he thinks he has an advantage over us, that I don't want to see any of you pretending to make soppy eyes with some stranger, then he might try to bleed us dry."

"An advantage to the veil." Zuhura smiled. "We can hide a portion of our disgust from you men. Though revulsion...Is another matter entirely."

"I have yet to see it, personally." Anton said nonchalantly. Zuhura smirked and shook her head. "But don't invite trouble either." he looked to the gate. "Enough wasting time. Let's get going."

While there were guards posted outside Al Qadikha's walls they were not very attentive. They simply allowed them to pass without so much as a glance. Anton presumed they didn't want to impede trade with one of the few groups that would journey so far through the desert, but a little caution was probably necessary. Al Qadikha's interior reminded Anton of Khoradeh, the first Frindal city, except a little poorer. The men and women walking past wore more rugged and plainly coloured clothes compared to theirs. Anton felt rather conspicuous, though being followed closely by a half dozen women did not help matters.

Anton pushed the lingering looks away and focused on the city itself. It looked remarkably similar to the Desert Elves Mesa, the buildings were obviously not in a state of decay. Everything looked very normal for an arid city, except for the stone wall which the city lay nestled against. While only twenty odd meters tall there was no obvious natural way to the top. What he did see were eight large wooden platforms and dozens more lengths of thick rope, reaching from the bottom to the very top. One slowly ascended while another descended, their speed was not related to one another, both laden with goods. The other six lay empty and abandoned but showed no sign of damage or disrepair.

"A-Anton." Calo nudged Anton's side. "I see one. Right at the top."

Calo did not point, as to not attract unwanted attention, but Anton quickly saw what she meant. Above the ascending platform he saw a humanoid covered in a thin fur. A Feral Beastkin. Two large ears, even larger than Rasha's, stood out underneath a large straw hat. The Feral wore a simple long sleeved shirt and pants, Anton could not see if the Feral was wearing boots but it was wearing thick gloves. When the platform reached the top three more Feral Beast-kin emerged, also wearing the same attire, and began unloading the platform.

“Certainly beats climbing up there.” Anton mused. “I wonder what’s powering it?”

Mezot grabbed Anton’s elbow and pointed along the street. At the base stood a large winch with four large wooden bars radiating out from the centre. Eight Nomad men leant against the bars, two a piece, shirtless with great rivers of sweat running down their backs.

“You’d think they’d give them a little shade.”

“They’re criminals.” Zuhura said calmly. “See that they are bald?”

“Yes...Actually, they all are.”

Zuhura nodded slowly. “Men and women who commit crimes have their hair cut with a razor. For minor crimes the punishment lasts until the hair grows back to its original length.”

“That’s bad for women then.” Calo muttered. She pointed to Zuhura’s head. “Your hair is quite long.”

“Indeed.”

“Let’s keep moving.” Anton ushered them onward. “The sooner we’re done here the better.”

They continued walking through the busy streets, all letting Anton take the lead. Like every city they were hounded by stall and store owners. Utter chaos surrounded them as criers called out to them only to move onto the next traveller when they gave no indication of interest. Food them one of the Nomad Tribes visiting was of huge economic importance but Anton also completely understood why Hazm restricted such trade to a single area.

“Normally.” Anton stopped and turned around. “Normally, since we didn’t get directions, normally we would buy some food and get instructions that way…”

“Why are you smiling?” Axia chuckled.

“Normally Verona would be the one to do it.” Anton spied a popular food stall. “And I would be worried about Kal, for obvious reasons. But this time...Tell me, Zuhura, is it allowed for women to eat outside?”

“Yes…” Zuhura raised a brow. “I don’t...Oh. The veil. That won’t be a problem. If they don’t they won’t make money.”

“We’ll buy something simple and get directions that way.” Anton quickly singled out a simple food stall with a number of people, mostly Nomads, surrounding it. “That seems like a good place. And we probably won’t get food poisoning.”

“What poisoning?” Axia asked.

“You don’t want to know.” Anton chuckled nervously. “Let’s just say it’ll be one of the worst days of your life.”

---[]---

With simple directions, and a quick meal, they slowly walked towards Mike’s Bazaar. Calo and Sheso were starting to act odd, their heads ducked and weaved as they looked down the tight alleyways spreading off the main street.

“We’re being followed.” Calo said softly.

Cetina clicked her tongue. “I thought we were.”

“It is our clothes.” Zuhura raised her hand. “We stand out like an oasis in the desert.”

The blue cloth shawl was of a higher quality that anything most of the people wore. And they all wore such clothes, even Anton.

“Not much we can do.” Anton took a deep breath. “But be ready to fight. Zuhura, stay in the centre. We’ll do the fighting-”

“Understood.” Zuhura did not argue and moved behind Anton. Cetina smirked and shook her head.

As they neared the Bazaar, the largest building in Al Qadikha, the crowds began to dissipate and move to the sides. Anton raised his hand for everyone to stop. He clicked his tongue as they stopped in the centre of the street. The gang, for lack of a better word, began to fan out. They sneered and held their hands on the simple blunt clubs and even knives. One at the centre, not the biggest but one that appeared to command some sort of authority, pointed his blade at Anton.

I’m getting sick of this shit.

“What do you want?” Anton asked loudly. “Is there something on me? Some kind of smell that attracts this sort of thing?”

“What are you talking about?” The man at the centre said, a slight waver to his voice. “We just want to have a chat with those beautiful-”

“You know what the fuck I’m talking about.” Anton clenched his fists tight. “You and the rest of your friends, quite happy to sit in the shade but when we turn up all of you do this...Thing! Where you spread out to try and intimidate me for some stupid fucking reason. Some inane stupid reason to try and puff up your pathetically deflated egos. Am I standing in your pissant little patch of dirt and you want me away? Afraid that a measure of a backbone is within a hundred feet of you? Your little hang-out where you giggle inanely and fantasise about assaulting those walking by, never brave enough to do it without the rest of your bum buddies?”

“Oh.” Calo clapped her hands. “I’m liking this Anton.”

“Right?” Sheso sniggered. “No wonder Mezot fell for him.”

Mezot’s face turned red as she looked away.

“What the fuck?” One of the thugs to the side asked those at the centre.

“What?” Anton felt strangely antagonistic and confident. For the tiniest moment he felt his Dragonoid tail, coiled tight around his waist. “Never had someone talk back to you? You haven’t done anything yet, so why are you getting your panties in such a twist?”

“You…” The man blinked and tightened his grip on his knife. “You’d better watch your words-”

“Or what?” Anton folded his arms. “What are you possibly going to do about it?”

All attention now lay upon him. Those previously walking past gave them a wide berth, many looked happy they were receiving a verbal lashing, even if it was Anton’s incoherent ramblings, but it had a distinct disadvantage. There was only one way for them to save face now.

“Y…” The thug took a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s head out of the city and I’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Fuck off.” Anton spat on the ground. “I don’t have the time or energy to deal with you. So get back to the dirty alleyways where you belong.”

Again the thugs looked utterly stupefied. Clearly no one had spoken to them like this. Ever.

Actually, this might be a bad thing. If no one’s done anything, and there are more shopkeepers than them, there’s a chance they’re connected. Maybe to this Mike? Well, not much else for it but to wrap everything up before they have a chance to say anything.

“I’ll fight you.” Cetina said softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a fight.”

“You?” The thug laughed, the others joined in. “A woman?”

“Yep.” Cetina removed the toggles beneath her shawl and let the outer cloth fall down. “And I can easily beat you all into a bloody mess.”

Some of the thugs and bystanders whistled, a mixture of surprise and bemusement. Cetina did not wear her normal Qaiviel armour, she would have cooked under the desert sun, but a heavy set of coastal Frindal Armour. While not as effective, it still offered considerable protection, not to mention the Arachnid Silk underlay was more than sufficient to stop most blades.

“Are you sure about this, Cetina?” Anton asked. “I’m sure I could scare them away.”

“You could. But I’m feeling a little...Rusty? I think you would call it rusty.”

The thug leader couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Teach this bitch a lesson. Show her what happens when someone crosses the Sand Vipers!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Anton grumbled.

Despite their advantage in numbers they were not attacking at once. For them it was unheard of for a woman to know and practice combat. Not to mention Cetina had still not drawn her sword, hanging from her hip.

“Calo? Sheso?” Anton spoke softly without looking back. “Keep an eye on our surroundings. This would be the perfect time for someone to attack us from behind.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t worry about trying to hide it. The more overt you are the less likely they might be to try something.”

Anton had no way of knowing for sure but it paid to be prepared.

Cetina stood perfectly still, her eye scanning all of the thugs for any sign of weakness. The first, a normal sized man, tried to swing his club at her but Cetina easily dodged before punching him hard underneath his chin. With one hit, a mighty crack, the thug’s body dropped while his head still looked to the sky. He landed in a plume of dust and refused to move.

“Is he dead?” Mezot grabbed the back of Anton’s shirt.

“No.” Anton smiled. “Just unconscious.”

He was glad to see the thug was still breathing, even if it was just barely. Cetina resumed her fighting stance and beckoned the other thugs to attack. The downed thug groaned and his head twitched.

“Time to go.” Anton said softly. “Or do you all want to be the one to be knocked unconscious by a woman, of all things.”

Cetina shot him a quick glance. He would never speak ill of her, they simply needed some encouragement.

The lead thug began to back away, the others were already several paces back.

“Come on.” Cetina smiled. “I haven’t had the chance to practice my sword arm for a while. So, come on. Let’s send the next one.”

The leader thug snarled as he brandished his weapon at Cetina. Despite his sneer Cetina did not even budge a muscle, she had faced a dozen things more intimidating than this man, and even Zuhura when she was beating the Sun Walker Fanatic was more intimidating.

“Come on! I don’t have all day.” Cetina dropped her stance. “If you don’t want to fight then get out of the way. We have business here.”

The other thugs began to back away, leaving just the leader. What little remained of his sanity, and ego, snapped and he charged at Cetina, swinging his knife like a lunatic. Cetina took a step forward just before he reached her, catching him when his hand was far away and grabbed his wrist tight. His eyes widened in fear and realisation. Cetina punched his elbow with all of her might, snapping the bone. The thug screamed and collapsed. Cetina kicked him hard in the side of the head and knocked him completely unconscious.

“I’ve fought starving bandits that are more threatening.” Cetina tossed the simple blade aside. “You’ve clearly never fought before.”

Anton waved them forward, Calo and Sheso silently told him they had seen nothing. He tapped her back and ushered her forward. No one said a word as they left the two thugs in the street. Anton glanced back and smiled. Already some of the younger children were riffling through his clothes for anything valuable, his blade had been stolen.

Maybe they’ll learn. Probably not, since they got such a beating and they’ll probably put all of the blame on me.

---[]---

Mike’s Bazaar was a surprisingly large open building, far larger than anything else in Al Qadikha. It had no roof, only pieces of cloth strung together from raised corner posts to block out the sun. Just like everywhere else in Frindal they did not have to worry about rain.

“I don’t see any of them here.” Calo said softly. “They weren’t running in this direction but that doesn’t mean they didn’t take a back street and run...I liked your anger, by the way.” She held a hand to her mouth. “They didn’t even get a chance to be creeps.”

“I just don’t understand it.” Anton softly sighed. “I wonder, in this world’s history, how many women have had that happen to them and thought ‘Yes, I will go with you because you’re such a cool and awesome guy. Let’s have sex’.”

“Cool?” Zuhura raised a brow. ‘What do you mean by that? People like to stay warm during the night.”

“It’s one of Anton’s things.” Sheso smiled. “Verona and Kal told me you get used to it very quickly.”

What else did they tell you I wonder?

The interior of the Bazaar was overwhelmingly cluttered, to say the least. Amazingly it was still neatly organised; everything sat in organised groupings and on small shelves, there was just so much that it threatened to spill out at any moment.

This organisation...What does it say about the person that owns this? Or is it just a servant trying their best to deal with their junk?

Many other people pursued the bazaar’s wares, some Anton vaguely recognised from their journey with the Nomad Tribe but he could not see the owner. Women, dressed similarly to Sultan Hazm’s servants, mingled through the customers, asking if they needed assistance. Anton was glad when he saw one approaching them.

“Hello.” She spoke very softly, though Anton could tell it was forced. “Welcome, travellers, to Mike’s Bazaar. How may I be of assistance?”

“You can tell that we’re not from here?” Anton asked.

The woman’s eyes conveyed her laughter for her mouth did not smile. “Of course. No one has skin as light, or as dark, in Al Qadikha.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got us there.”

The woman glanced behind him to Zuhura. She did not look particularly impressed by what she was seeing.

"We need to see Mike." Anton said. "It will be easier to explain it once, but we have a need to get onto the plateau above us and meet the Feral Beastkin."

The woman's eyes darted between them all. Whatever she was searching for she did not find it. Perhaps markings of the Sun Walkers? Fearful they had finally extended their reach to the very edge of human civilisation.

"Temur." Anton nodded towards the Nomads. "Said he was a good place to start. He would have come but he has business with the other Nomad Elders."

"Getting high." Cetina softly added. Zuhura glumly agreed.

"Mike is currently in the back of the Bazaar, handling another customer." The woman turned and motioned for them to follow. "But it should not take long. We can ask him when he is done."

"Thank you." Anton smiled and followed the woman.

He turned back and silently told everyone to be ready for anything, even Mezot and Axia. At the moment their Charms were hidden but looked incredibly suspicious all the same. No one else had something so large mounted to the top of a staff. Cetina, Calo and Sheso readied their own hidden weapons while Zuhura patted her side where he could make out the faintest outline of a sheathed dagger.

The woman led them past other customers, quietly haggling with the servant women, all careful not to touch any of the unstable stacks. Eventually they arrived at a door where another servant waited patiently, her hands clasped together and her head bowed low.

"He will be done shortly." The waiting servant said. "Just a bit longer."

Once they had stopped moving, and there was no sound of stomping boots Anton could hear something. A rhythmic creaking of wood interjected with soft moans.

"Is this what he means when he says you can get a discount?" Anton asked dryly.

"Oh." Axia almost began to laugh. "He's-"

Mezot covered Axia's ears and quietly hushed her. Axia shrugged, she was old enough to know what was happening.

"No one entertain such a thought." Anton said sternly. "Even in jest."

He only received nods.

The creaking wood stopped, followed by a long groan. Cetina shook her head while Zuhura tried to look away so they would not see her reddening face.

"Sure." A gruff male voice came through the door. "You can get that discount. Just be sure to tell my servants that you've worked for it."

The voice laughed, Anton just made out a softer laugh, extremely forced, as someone approached the door. The servants ushered them back. A Nomad woman emerged, her clothes at strange angles and her veil incorrectly fastened. Anton did not recognise her but she did. The moment their eyes made contact her body flinched and she scampered away, almost knocking over a precariously placed stack which would have ended the Bazaar.

"You've got more for me?" The voice reminded Anton of Mahdi. "So what do they want to buy?"

"I...I am not entirely sure." The servant said softly. "I am not sure."

"Well, did you ask them?"

A middle aged man emerged. While sweat and a flush covered his face he looked, as Temur said, rather plain. He finished buttoning the top of his shirt and ran a hand across his face.

"Apologies." The man smiled. "It's always amusing just how far some people will go to get a good deal."

Easier when you're the only person in town. What choice do they have?

Anton glanced back at one of the stacks. While he didn't know if the price was reasonable, judging by the faces of those walking by it was anything but.

“We have a need to enter the Feral Beast-kin territory.” Anton said. Mike continued to try and make himself more presentable, if such a thing was possible when he was drenched in sweat and reeked of sex. “And in such a manner where it does not cause alarm or any incidents. Temur said that you should be the first person we contact.”

“Temur?” Mike’s brow rose slightly. “He’s here?”

“Outside the city walls currently. But he told us to go on ahead.”

“Ah...That old goat. I’m glad to know that he’s still alive and kicking.” He motioned for them to enter. Mike stopped before he had even made a step into the room. “Maybe somewhere else. No? Seems like it would be a bit rude to make you sit in there. Especially when you have young ones amongst your group. Not that I haven’t seen them in there before.”

Axia grabbed Anton’s shirt and held tight. He too did not like the predatory look he gave her.

Mike led them to the side to another cluttered room. Thankfully it did not have any smells, apart from dried wood and had more than enough room for all of them. Both of the servants entered with them. They did not look like they carried weapons but neither did someone like Zuhura.

“So…” Mike sat behind a large wooden table, Anton was shocked to see it was partially made from black and red marbled wood from The Shadow Isles. “So what do you want to know about the Feral Beast-kin?”

“We are researchers.” Anton motioned to Mezot. “We have come from Graterious to study the Feral Beast-kin. All of the different species, which we cannot do from simple hearsay. So we need to meet them. I am especially interested in the Lamias. The Seocurians killed all of them, creating the Cobra’s. I would like to meet the originals.”

“I see…” Mike slowly nodded. “So what is in it for me? If someone like you, who I barely know, where to use one of the few people the Feral’s trust to gain access to their lands and then to do something, it would reflect very poorly on me.”

“I...Can appreciate that.” Anton said. “But I can demonstrate that we are trustworthy.”

“Oh?” Mike lent back into his chair. “How could you do that?”

“I have considerable funds.” Anton pulled out a small purse of gold. “We can pay you to ensure that you are fully compensated for any issues that may arise. However, my companion Zuhura knows most of the intricacies of the Nomad Tribes and can act as a mediator, should the need arise.”

Zuhura kept her face flat. Again the veil displayed its unique advantages.

Mike slowly mulled over the idea. The servants, however, did not look happy.

“That is tempting.” Mike peered through the small purse. “And these do look real. But I need something...More. Something that proves you aren’t going to act up during your research expedition.”

I don’t like where this is going.

“And what would that be?”

“Them.” Mike nodded to Axia and Zuhura. “A Nomad isn’t going to know anything about the Feral’s way of life. Especially one from the south.”

Zuhura kept perfectly still.

“And...It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Graterian in these parts. And blonde hair-”

“Surely...Surely there is another way.” Anton said. “We have a lot of money and other-”

“It’s going to be those two.” Mike tried and failed to hide a smirk. “They’ll stay here and entertain me while you’re doing you little expedition. I’m that Nomad you brought with you knows a fair bit.”

“I…”

No way that’s happening. But...Could this be like Gerin and the Dark Elves? If it’s only his word that’s needed…Those women servants don’t look particularly happy by this.

“If we were to agree to something like that,” Anton felt murderous gazes from behind. He raised his hand slightly, to let them know he wasn’t seriously considering the offer. “How would this work?”

Mike, entranced by the prospect of two women, and one forbidden, simply smiled. “Well, I would have to let the guards know, then I’d have to arrange you to have a Feral Beast-kin guide. Since your Nomad wouldn’t be with you.” Mike leant back into his chair. “Or any good.”

“I see…” Anton glanced at Zuhura and winked. “Well...If we were to agree to something like this…”

“Please.” Zuhura whispered.

“How long would it take for us to get up top?” Anton turned back to Mike. “We need to get this done as soon as possible.”

“Right away.” Mike rose from his chair. Axia squeaked when she saw his very obvious erection. “Since they’ll be staying here.”

“Well.” Anton clapped his hands. “I think that settles things. Calo? Sheso? Could you please make sure the door is closed and the servants don’t escape.”

“Right.” The twins smiled. Mike didn’t understand yet.

“Cetina? Why don’t you take this chair beat him senseless for me?” Anton smiled as he stood up, moving his chair in front of Cetina. “I think I might go a bit overboard.”

“What-”

Cetina picked up the chair and threw it with all her might. Mike grunted as the wood smashed into his head and sent him prone. Cetina jumped onto the table and leapt onto his prone body, he only managed a single short cry before she landed on his chest, bones cracked under the strike and a bloody spray erupted from his mouth. He tried one last cry before Cetina began to punch him in the head over and over. Anton turned to the twins. Calo pointed her sword at the servants, who kept their hands up and refused to move, while Sheso secured the door.

“Thank you.” Zuhura breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you. I didn’t think you would actually do that.”

“I just wanted to get more information out of him.” Anton held her shoulder. “I’d hardly give him to you...You saw the way he was looking at Axia.”

“Can I burn him?” Axia gripped her staff tight. “I want to use my magic to burn it off.”

Mezot held the same look.

“We’ll see.” Anton looked to Cetina, continuing to pummel Mike. “Cetina? Hold off for a moment.”

“You’re not worried what Temur is going to say?” Cetina gave him a final kick as she backed away.

“No. He said that he wasn’t a friend. And,” Anton shrugged. “I don’t think it was a good idea to try and hit on my friends.”

“So…” Axia lowered her Charm towards Mike, struggling to breath through his bloodied face. “Fire?”

Anton turned to the servants, tensing the moment his eyes laid upon them. “Mike. Who is he to you?”

“He’s my husband.” The servant who had waited outside of the room spoke.

“And you?”

“Third wife. Not...That I had much of a choice.”

“I see.” Anton motioned to Mike. “And do you approve of what he did?”

Neither replied.

“I see.” Anton folded his arms as he leant against the table. “So while he would be fucking Zuhura or Axia, probably both.”

Zuhura and Axia shuddered at the thought.

“I take it that it would be you that would disseminate those orders?”

The servants looked at each other. Thoughts were forming behind their eyes.

“We would.” The wife said softly.

“And Mike doesn’t seem like a popular man. No?”

“No. But he does have some protection. And…” The wife looked at her brutalised husband. “Despite what he was he...No.”

“I’m sure that you two would be far better owners of this Bazaar.” Anton smiled. “I’m sure you’d have less stuff, better prices, and a more friendly demeanour.”

“What are you saying?” The third wife asked.

“You take over the Bazaar.” Zuhura softly replied. “And give us the guide and access to the Feral Beast-kin. I do not believe Anton wants a share of the profits…”

“No. It will all be yours.” Anton unfolded his arms. “No more sex for payment. I’m sure whoever took care of the expenditure did not like this.”

“No.” The first wife said. “But if someone were to find out about this…”

“You essentially run the place as it is. Who’s going to miss someone humping their way through the populace?” Anton shrugged. “And if someone does ask, just say that he’s sick with Desert Lung or something. You’ll figure something out. But...That’s only going to be if he’s not alive anymore."

Mike tried to roll onto his side. Cetina kicked him again and knocked him out.

“I need to get up to the Ferals and begin our investigation.” Anton leant forward. “And I don’t think you’re going to have a good time if he lives. He’s seen how you didn’t come to his aid, nor cry out for us to stop, even if you couldn’t do anything.”

Now the wives shared a more concerned look.

“So? What’s it going to be?”

The servants pulled close and began to whisper. Calo nodded. Though her Dark Elf ears were hidden she could still hear better than humans.

“I believe that Noori would be the best guide.” The first wife said. “He does not like Mike but is very good at his job. And the Ferals are friendly with him. So-”

“Fuck-”

Cetina kicked Mike’s head again. Despite looking rather plain he was quite durable.

“I think that answers your question.” Anton turned to Axia. “I’m afraid that we won’t be using your Fire Magic, even though it would be fun and I love seeing you able to practice your magic, it would draw far too much attention. Mainly the smoke.”

“Shame.” Axia did not seem very disappointed.

“I’ll do it.” Cetina drew her sword. “If you don’t want to do it yourself. I understand if you don’t…”

The wives shared another glance and turned their eyes away. Mike snarled at Cetina. She simply shrugged and plunged her sword into his jaw. She grunted and twisted the blade, snapping his jaw apart. Mike let out a final tiny gurgle before falling still.

“He’s…” The third wife trailed off.

“He’s dead.” Cetina wiped her sword clean of blood. “How do we get rid of the body?”

“We send it to Atros. Might want to have someone on the other side to explain it. Otherwise there’s going to be a terrible panic in Atros that something terrible’s happened to us.”

“I’ll go.” Cetina said as she crouched and began to set out the portal stones. “Just a quick message should be enough.”

Anton and Cetina hauled the body onto the portal. It flashed away in a bright burst of light, swiftly followed by Cetina. The wives of Mike remained perfectly still as Calo continued to point her sword at them. They didn’t know Anton could use magic so he wasn’t particularly worried about them.

Cetina returned, holding a hand to her temple. “Still pretty bad. The guards were pretty concerned but they understood. Well, I don’t think they did. But it won’t be a problem. You might have Verona or Kal contact you when they find out.”

“I’ll tell them when we’re somewhere safe.” Anton turned to the two wives. He summoned a small Fire Bomb, the two looked utterly terrified. “Now. How about that guide and pass to the Ferals?”

Chapter 001 - Consequences (Rewrite)

Chapter 001 - Consequences:

Anton’s finger lazily traced the path of the water droplet, growing and absorbing the dust and grime that had accumulated on the bus window. Only when it disappeared, striking the bottom and joining the ribbon of dirty water, did he sigh and fall further back into his uncomfortable seat.

The journey back to his home was annoying long. Not that the distance was large, but the city traffic always ground to a halt at this time of night. Throw in the light rain and it was probably faster to walk.

“What am I supposed to do for rent?” Anton asked aloud. “I don’t have anything in the bank...”

Despite the impending financial disaster he almost smiled as he remembered why he had been fired. Or quit, the result was essentially the same. The red and thoroughly embarrassed face of his boss brought a smile to his face, as did the knowledge that he would no longer have to wear his cheap and uncomfortable suit and tie, though such elation was marred by the simple fact that he was no longer employed.

“Excuse me.” A sweet elderly voice asked from the center aisle. “Is this seat taken?”

Anton was more than a little surprised to see an elderly woman standing next to his seat. He knew it was not that surprising, public transport was much safer for the elderly, but it was rare to see them at this hour.

“Sure. I mean, no it isn’t.” Anton managed a single chuckle as he pulled closer to the window. “It’s free.”

As he looked around the bus he was surprised to see most of the seats were filled, at least with a single person.

How long have I been out of it?

“Thank you, dear.” The elderly woman shuffled onto the seat. She rested a large and seemingly heavy purse on her lap. “These old bones, you see. I can’t stand up for long.”

She rubbed her knees with heavily arthritic hands.

“I...I can see that.” Anton’s eyes narrowed as he regretted his words. “Sorry. I’m a bit out of it.”

“Something bad happened at work?”

The elderly woman unfastened large metal pop clips on her swollen purse and began to rummage through. Somehow Anton generated an unfavorable image of a curious rat rummaging through garbage. He turned his attention back to the window. The bus had only managed a few meters but the scenery had changed. Outside a group of prostitutes plied their trade on anyone willing to pay the modest sum. A passing car’s lights shone on the window, the dust and grime reflected just enough light so Anton could see his face.

Anton was relatively plain and normal: average height and build, short cut dark blonde hair with pale green eyes. The only thing of note was his missing right wedding ring finger, lost during his childhood when he wrestled a dog trying to attack a neighbor, at least that’s what he always told himself.

The car passed and his reflection faded. Anton sighed, drawing a deeper meaning from the passage of his reflection than was present.

“Here we are.” The elderly woman produced a small orange candy, covered in sugar dust. “Have one of these. It’ll help clear your head. Oh, my name’s Janet by the way.”

“I...” One glance was enough to tell Anton that she was not about to let it go. “Alright.”

Never accept candy from strangers. At my age?

The moment Anton bit into the candy the taste and smell of ginger overwhelmed his senses. He coughed, a foolish mistake, and breathed in the vapor and dust. His lungs spasmed in protest to the foreign material.

“You’re not supposed to chew it.” Janet said, the tiniest hint of a smile crept through her wrinkled face as Anton struggled to suppress a coughing fit.

Almost a minute passed before Anton dared to open his mouth. “I...I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t think anyone would just bite into it.”

“I thought it was a solid candy.” Anton smiled. He thumped his chest. “But, thanks. It has cleared my head, though not in the way you expected.”

The bus pulled off the road and opened its doors. The hinges and wheels squeaked and rattled, like everything in this city it was old and neglected.

“So what’s troubling you?” Janet asked as she looked at the people entering. Clearly she was not impressed but Anton was still massaging his chest, the ginger still burned in his lungs.

“I yelled at my boss.” Anton coughed. “Called her a lying bitch, since she stole money and equipment from the company. And I had the video evidence, which I showed everyone. Turns out she’s shagging the boss. Behind his wife. So that makes me...”

Janet was not listening. Her eyes lay squarely on the latest people to have entered the bus. She muttered something as she refastened her purse.

The latest people to enter the bus were unsavory people, to put it bluntly. The seven men wore matching long dull grey hoodies, some baseball caps underneath despite the late hour, and shifted strangely along the central isle. Their beady eyes looked into the passenger’s laps, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. Though Anton could not read lips he could just make out them talking about money after pointing at a woman’s jewelry.

“Shit.” Anton muttered. He slunk down into the chair. “I know them.”

“Who?” Janet asked without turning her head. “Who are they?”

Anton groaned as he saw the second last person. “They’re a stupid gang, back from when I was a kid. Green Vipers...Something really stupid. But I was sure they were in prison.”

“So...Why are you hiding like that?”

Anton looked down. “Because I helped put them there.”

Janet tensed and pulled her bulky purse close to her chest.

“Alright fuck-faces!” The second last gang member drew a small pistol and raised it into the air. “I think you all know what’s happening.”

The gang member behind him pointed a gun at the bus driver. The door hissed closed and immediately the bus began to move. A car behind blew its horn as they rejoined the traffic.

“All your fucking valuables into the sack.” He used his gun to point at one of the other gang members, who had a large backpack rather than a sack. The other gang members drew their own guns, small things but still incredibly deadly. “No one needs to get hurt. It’s only money, after all.”

“What do we do?” Janet whispered.

“What do you mean? Give them whatever they want.”

“But...” Janet’s lower lip trembled. “I have my silver locket with me. It’s all I have left of my husband.”

“Well definitely don’t tell them-”

“It’s in my purse.”

Anton groaned as the gang members drew closer. While he had no reason to help Janet it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he did not want to die over a cheap piece of silvery steel either.

“Come on.” The gang member at the front yelled. He was clearly enjoying himself. “Everything. That means your phones...What the fuck is this?”

A middle aged man raised his hands as the gang member pulled out his phone, an incredibly old flip-phone.

“The fuck are we supposed to do with this?!”

“You said-”

The middle aged man received a strike to the nose with the butt of the pistol. Blood erupted from his shattered nose and the man fell back into his chair.

“Don’t fuck with me!” The gang member pointed the gun at him with a trembling hand. “Don’t you fuck with me.”

“Okay.” The man raised both hands as blood poured down his face. “But that’s the only phone I have.”

The gang member scowled, spat at him and moved on.

Slowly the gang members moved along the isle, retrieving everything that might be of value. Anton kept his face forward, trying his best not to draw attention. The gang member at the front, still holding the driver hostage, began to grow more agitated, his feet shuffled back and forth, as he continued to taunt the bus driver. As the gang members near them Anton saw the bus driver clutch his chest and begin to lean forward.

“Old bitch.” The fourth gang member growled at Janet. His voice cracked slightly, not that anyone was about to say a word. “Purse. Now.”

“Please.” Janet was on the verge of tears. “At least let me take my locket with me. It’s my husband’s, you see. He passed away-”

“I don’t give a fuck.” The gang member reached down and pulled on the purse’s straps. “I’ll take the whole fucking lot.”

“Please!”

“Let go bitch!” He pulled and the purse slipped from her hands.

Janet, her entire body trembling, stood up and slapped him. Everything fell silent. The second last gang member looked rather impressed rather than mad.

“You wanna fucking die?!”

“Easy.” The second last gang member held his shoulder. “She’s just upset. Now, sit down.”

He pushed Janet back. Her legs could not take the rapid movement and she stumbled backwards. Anton instinctively grabbed her and guided her back to her chair. He immediately regretted his decision as he face the center aisle.

“Anton.” The gang member almost growled. “Stand up you piece of shit. You’ve got a lot of balls to be in this part of town.”

Anton did as he was told. His body did not feel cold, as he expected. He did not feel anything.

“Lucas-”

“Don’t call me by my fucking name!” Lucas thrust his pistol towards Anton. Janet pulled closer to the chair and away from any potential stray bullet. “I told you that I’d kill you if I ever saw you again. And I fucking meant it!”

Lucas spat onto the ground. Like the other gang members his face and neck was covered with tattoos. Two small blue eyes tried to bore through Anton’s through sheer hate. His cracked lips pulled back to reveal the blackened and rotting teeth, even his tongue had taken on a green tinge.

“Do you think I’m a fucking liar?!”

“Those drugs-”

“The fuck are you doing?!” The gang member at the front yelled. He held both trembling hands on his pistol and trained it on the bus driver, loudly whimpering as he held his chest. “Fucking stop it!”

“You’re going to give him a heart attack!” Lucas shouted. “So back off-”

The bus driver collapsed onto his steering wheel and the bus began to accelerate. Immediately the bus veered away from the oncoming traffic and swiped a parked car. A woman screamed as the gang members, and Lucas, stumbled back. Anton lunged for the pistol in Lucas’s hands. Lucas snarled but could not avoid Anton’s hands. They wrestled for the gun as the bus continued to accelerate and veer across the road.

“Let go!”

Lucas bit Anton’s hand. His rotten teeth was very sharp and drew blood. Anton kicked the floor and rammed Lucas with his body, kicking him in the shins. As they wrestled for the gun a crack rang out. A small wisp of smoke leaked from the end.

“The fuck did you do?!” The gang member had completely frozen. Blood poured out of the bus drivers back, staining his shirt as he completely collapsed onto the steering wheel, blasting the horn with his weight.

“’Bout time you’re a fucking murderer.” Lucas’s hot and vile breath washed over Anton’s face. “Looks like you can go to prison this time.”

The bus jolted again, all of the windows on the far side mashed and exploded inwards. As the shower of broken glass struck them Anton flicked his eyes to the pistol. His fingers were inside the trigger, Lucas’s were nowhere near.

“You’re the bastards trying to rob-”

“Fucking justify it this time, you little bitch! Spend the next thirty years getting raped by Big Trev-”

A new horn blew, much louder than the buses. A bright light washed over them from behind Anton. Lucas, and all of the gang members, were utterly transfixed in terror. Anton glanced behind him and time slowed to a crawl. Four bright lights shone into the bus, four bright lights from a speeding train. Anton’s eyes managed to catch the light reflected from the boom gate, tumbling in the air beside the train.

Time snapped back to normal. Anton did not even manage a single cry before the train struck the bus. For the tiniest moment he heard a cacophony of twisting and breaking metal, the pain of his body being crushed and skewered by flying debris. The next moment everything stopped, replaced by an endless black void.

]---[]---[

Anton gasped as his lungs spasmed. Every part of his body ached, so much pain that he could barely even turn his head to breathe. He lay face down on something hard but he could not feel if it was hot or cold. Slowly the pain receded and the strength returned, enough to tilt his head.

“Ugh.” Anton’s body shuddered as the coughing began to slow. “What...H-Hello?”

As he unsteadily rose to a crouch he rubbed his eyes hard. An endless black void lay before him, extending in every direction making it impossible to determine even where the floor met the air.

Am I blind?

Anton pulled his hands away. He could see them both with perfect clarity, as if it was being lit up from every direction simultaneously. He looked around but could not find the source of light.

“Hello?”

His voice sounded strange. While he had no idea for how far the black void extended, he could not hear any echo, not even in his own head. He tapped his shoe on the ground. It sounded just as strange.

“Is anyone there?!” Anton waited for something, anything, even if it was just his own voice, but nothing came from the void.

No echo, no reverberation. Nothing. Is this what it’s like when you die? I know we were hit by that train. So...Is this it? No bright light or flaming torment? Just an endless black void until I go mad? I was never a religious person, far from it, but if they told it was like this...

He brushed down his cheap suite. The tiny flecks of dust and thread floated away, propelled only by his action and formed a cloud near his feet. Some struck the floor and made it easier to differentiate from the rest of the void. He began to walk, unsure of his current direction. The black void did not recede from him. Simply lacking the ability to see where he was placing his feet was disorienting in itself.

Anton stopped as his head began to spin. “The fuck am I?”

He ran his hand over his suit again. It was in perfect condition, despite remembering vividly the last few milliseconds of his life. Anton frowned as he could not find the small tear underneath his arm. Though it was only a few threads it had disappeared as well.

“Is...Is this not...” Anton closed his eyes. “What am I even saying? I’m dead. Or I’ve lost my mind. Shot in the head and completely lost my mind. I wonder if this is actually the inside of a padded cell.”

Anton rubbed the floor but still felt nothing, neither hot nor cold and perfectly smooth. As he looked at the solid darkness, still indistinguishable from the surroundings, sense of panic began to rise through his body. His hands began to tremble and his legs felt weak.

“Hello?!” Anton shouted with all his might. “Is anyone there?!”

“...Hello?” A voice replied, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. “Is someone still there?”

Relief washed over Anton. “Hello! Where are you?”

Something moved in the black void, a deep purple shade roughly in the shape of a human. “Hello? Oh...Just wait there. I won’t be long.”

As the purple shade drew closer, slowly growing in definition, Anton heard another sound. His right hand ached at the sound of a growling wolf. When he looked behind he could not see anything other than faint red lights dancing in the distance. They moved from side to side, slowly growing closer.

“Don’t move.” The purple shade said. “I’m almost there.”

In a single step the purple shade became an elderly man, an elderly man dressed as a Roman senator, with a purple sash instead of red. The toga left part of his chest exposed, he had an impressive build despite his obvious age. He smiled, the weathered lines of his face creased heavily, and gently nodded.

“You’re lucky that I was still here. Almost everyone else has already left, since one of us managed to sweep the pot.”

The elderly man gently stroked his immaculately trimmed white beard and closed his eyes, slowly nodding as if he had discovered something profound. The seconds passed and Anton could not wait any longer.

“Who are you?...And what the fuck are you talking about?” Anton looked up, then behind where the dancing red lights were continuing to draw closer. “What is this place?”

“What?” The elderly man snapped his head up. “Oh. Please forgive me. My mind tends to wander...” He coughed lightly. “My name is Stratos, God of Storms.”

Stratos bowed low. He groaned as he tried to right himself, his face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his back.

“At least you missed all that boring haggling.” Stratos scoffed. “That was...An embarrassment, for everyone, especially everyone that stayed around to listen her prattle on.”

Stratos jerked his head backwards. Part of the darkness behind him receded. Many people emerged through the darkness. Dozens of people, some that Anton even recognized. He saw the back of Janet, the middle aged man who had been struck in the head, along with Lucas and his gang.

“Fuck it.” Anton stepped past Stratos. “They’ll do.”

They stood with their backs to him, facing a tall woman with flowing blonde hair. She waved her hand over them and darkness swallowed them once again.

“No! Where...Where did they go?” Anton felt relief when he looked back to Stratos and found that he was still there.

“Hmm? Oh. It has been a while.” Stratos chuckled as he held Anton’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have died.”

“I guessed that.” Anton could see Stratos’s hand but could not feel any warmth. “I remember being on a bus, torn apart by metal-”

“Excellent! Not dying, obviously, but it took an awful long time for some of them to accept that.” Stratos shook his head as he looked to the red dancing lights. More had gathered but had not drawn any closer. “Long enough for them to notice.”

“And what are they?” Anton took a step back.

“Nothing for us to worry about.” Stratos slapped his back. “So long as we’re gone before they get here.” He held a finger to Anton’s chest. “So long as you are gone. I’m fine...Anyway. Normally, when Humans die on Earth...This is going to get very uncomfortable for my back if we’re just standing and talking. Please, have a seat.”

Stratos motioned to his right. A large marble table and thirteen chairs lay where there had been darkness moments before. Like them they were well illuminated without any obvious source of light. Stratos beckoned Anton to follow and take a seat. Anton kept his eye on the dancing red lights, still drawing ever closer.

“That’s better.” Stratos loudly exhaled as his rear touched the hard marble chair. He took a moment to savor it before leaning forward, clasping his hands tight together. “I’ll start from the beginning. Our world is in terrible-”

“Bloody waste of time.” Another voice echoed. Stratos sighed and his shoulders drooped. “Bitch managed to snag them all again.”

“Are you still here, Esperit?” Stratos asked.

“Why are you?” The voice was already closer and clearly a woman’s.

“Just come over here. I think we missed one, somehow.”

A red shade rapidly emerged through the darkness, each shadowy step was followed by a loud clack, a high heel striking the hard dark floor.

“How did we miss one?” The red shade grew into a woman. “Everyone was here. And that hasn’t happened in...I don’t know how long.”

The woman standing before them wore very little, especially compared to Stratos. A tight strapless red dress barely managed to contain a very large pair of breasts, nor did it cover much of her legs, stopping at her upper thighs. Her bright red high heels were arched incredibly high, designed to accentuate bronzed, well-toned legs. Her red eyes studied him but Anton was almost hypnotized by her flaming red hair, literally flaming. While it was a slow and steady deep red fire Anton watched the ends flicker out of existence before being reformed by new fire. Anton found it difficult to look away.

“Hello, Stratos.”

“You honestly thought that was a good idea?” Stratos folded his arms.

The woman sighed. Her head and shoulders dropped to a level unbefitting her beauty.

“Maybe. I was hoping to get at least one. Just one.” She balled her hands into fists and shook them at the sky. “Just one. But, as usual-”

“Not this time.” Stratos happily slapped the marble table. “Now...Umm. I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t think I got your name.”

“Anton. Anton Thorn.”

“Anton.” Stratos smiled. “This is Esperit, Goddess of Fire. Not that her hair left it in any doubt.”

“I didn’t chose this.” Esperit ran a hand backwards through her hair, throwing out dozens of tiny embers, none of which affected the density of her hair. “So what have you told him?”

“Nothing yet. I was about to, when you interrupted.”

“Right, right.” Esperit walked to a chair. Her high heels did not impede her in any way. “Please, continue.”

She loudly kicked off her high heels and placed her legs onto the marble table, facing away from them. Esperit came across as rather slovenly, despite her initial appearance.

“Anton.” Stratos began. “We did not rescue your souls from oblivion out of the goodness of our hearts. No. I wish it were so. We need your souls because when yours are brought from your world to ours they absorb this.” He waved to the surrounding darkness. “And by doing so it grants the...The owner of the soul immense power. Rather, the capacity for power and mana. Now, you won’t just be able to create world ending storms of walls of fire right away-”

“What power?” Anton felt his was asking the obvious.

Stratos smiled and raised his hand. A ball of lightning emerged, crackling and jittering violently.

“Magic, Anton. We are talking about magic.” He closed his hand and the lightning disappeared. “Unlike your world we have magic. We are Gods. I thought I already said this?”

“There’s no way he’d just accept it.” Esperit murmured. She juggled a small ball of fire. “Especially coming from his world.”

“Quite.” Stratos looked over Anton’s shoulder and impatiently tapped his hands. The red lights had tripled in number and were much closer now. “And we need you, and the others that we rescued, to help us.”

Esperit placed her legs down and flicked her arm towards the center of the marble table. A steady flame emerged, in which Anton could see movement. Large dark figures crashed through armies and wooden cities, crushing fleeing people under massive hands.

“Our world is threatened by Demons.” Esperit began. “Creatures from another world. And while it is entirely possible that the forces of our world can defeat them, bringing you lot through gives us a much needed edge.”

A monstrous shadowy figure turned to face them. It was difficult to make out anything of its face but Anton saw the six glowing eyes, arranged in vertical pairs. The Demon opened its flaming mouth and lunged towards them. Esperit waved her hand and the flame disappeared.

“You’re taking this quite well.” Stratos frowned lightly.

Anton slowly flexed his hands. “Either...Either this is real, so I should take this serious. Or I’ve lost my mind...And I should take it seriously.”

Esperit chuckled. “Whatever works for you. Now, we aren’t going to send you completely unprepared. Nor are we dropping you right into the thick of it. We can buy a little time, but not much. Even so, we cannot interfere too much with the mortal world but we can give you our magic. But, you have to choose.”

“I can only use one type of magic? Is that how it works here?”

“A single person can only have a single blessing.” Stratos began. “The body...Simply cannot take it. So choose...I thought she was gone already.”

This time Anton heard metal chains striking itself. He turned to find the source and received a face full of soft white cloth. He looked up to see a woman, wearing an entirely white nun’s habit, hugging him tight. He could not see her face or any of her skin, the white cloth covered everything. As she slowly rocked back and forth he felt the metal chain crossed over her chest. Judging by the way the clothes rested on her body the metal chains covered almost all of her body. The white nun did not relinquish her hold when Anton tried to pull away. He was not averse to receiving a large and soft bosom to the face but not under the current circumstances.

“I definitely thought you would have gone.” Esperit murmured.

The white nun shook her head. She lessened her hold of Anton but was clearly not letting him go.

“The lovely woman currently hugging your head is Tethra, Goddess of Prayer. Normally she would tell you this herself, but she is currently very weak.”

Tethra glumly nodded.

“If it weren’t for the chains she’d be dead.” Stratos sighed. “But I’m glad that you’re here. You want him for yourself? Well, you need-”

Tethra finally relinquished her hold. She produced a small pure white crystal, a two inch tetrahedron, almost the same colour as the marble table and chairs.

“Oh?” Esperit shuffled closer. “You think he’s the one?”

Tethra nodded.

“This is...?”

“Normally you can only have one blessing of a God.” Stratos began. “But this allows you to have more.”

“So why doesn’t everyone-”

Tethra interrupted him. She gently took Anton’s right hand in hers, and slammed the white crystal into it. It sunk into his flesh, but Anton felt every excruciating moment as his body formed around it.

“What the fuck?!” Anton stood up, the marble chair refused to move even though he kicked against it. “The fuck did you just do?!”

“Only...” Tethra held her throat tight, her voice rasped and cracked with every painful letter. “Choice...People...Need...Help.”

Tethra began to cough. The white cloth covering her face turned wet then red. Esperit rushed to her side and gently rubbed her back, the chains covered her there as well.

Anton looked at his hand. His skin had formed a ridge around the edge of the crystal, red and raw, but it had not come through on the other side.

“You should have said so.”

Tethra slowly nodded as she stood upright. The blood quickly faded from her face.

“Since we’re doing this now.” Esperit waved for Stratos to stand. “We shall give you all of ours.”

The three held his left hand in turn, each time he felt a tiny burst of pain, nothing compared to the white crystal. When they were done three small markings lay on the back of his hand: an orange and red flame, a purple and white lightning bolt and two white hands clasped in prayer.

“This will allow you to...Shit.” Esperit looked behind them.

The dancing red lights were only a few meters away. Now Anton could make out thousands of black teeth just behind the lights, the lights were actually eyes of some maddened and hateful creature.

“Almost out of time.” Esperit grabbed Anton’s shoulders hard. “Anton. Listen to me and listen well. Your magic is the only advantage you have in our world. Don’t overdo it. Otherwise you’re going to be in serious trouble.”

The teeth and eyes surged towards him. Anton felt his legs tremble.

“B-But I don’t know how to use it-”

Esperit pushed him away from the eyes and teeth. “Think of them as shapes. Simple shapes to start with. Trust me it’ll come to you. Oh. And this is incredibly important.” She held his face and stared into his eyes. “Whatever you do, don’t abandon the village you find yourself in. Understood?”

“I don’t understand anything!”

Stratos and Tethra disappeared as the eyes and teeth surged around them.

“Too late.” Esperit gave his shoulders a quick squeeze and pushed him. The solid darkness gave way and his body fell away. “Don’t abandon them! We’re sending help and you can’t...”

Esperit’s voice grew distant and dim as the darkness consumed him once again.

]---[]---[

Anton's eyes opened once again. A circle of distant stars greeted him, somehow the edge of the circle was rough and uneven. He blinked again and it began to make a little more sense. It was a hole in a wooden roof, created by something passing through at tremendous speed.

"Was that me?" Anton asked, knowing full well it was. "I should be dead... Again.” He grunted and scrunched his eyes tight. “Shouldn't I? Who can honestly say they’ve died multiple times? I must be crazy.”

He shook his head. Pieces of straw landed on his face, throwing up tiny plumes of dust up his nose. After brushing them aside he rose up. He felt the hard straw fall away from his shirt and head while it dug lightly into his pants.

Though he was in near complete darkness, the only source of light came from the twinkling stars, nothing from light bulbs or even candles, his eyes slowly adjusted. He lay in a barn, a rickety and ramshackle one at that. The pile of straw that served as his bed lay in the center, several large wooden crates sat near the door but otherwise it was empty.

"How did I end up in the countryside?" Anton muttered as he shuffled down the pile. "From work... Gods... Then this? Did I drink something bad? Was I drugged?"

The tiny jolts of pain he received from the sharp ends of straw told him he certainly was not dreaming. His shoes touched the ground, hard compacted dirt, and he brushed the straw away.

"I've definitely been drugged. It’s been a pretty good tip, I’ll say that..."

Anton frowned as he flexed his hands. A heaviness covered his entire body, like he was submerged in water yet it did not impede his movement in any way.

"It was real... So, magic?"

Anton took a deep breath and held out his hand.

Esperit said to make simple shapes. And then what? Just release a ball of lightning or fire outside of my body? I’ll burn or electrocute myself...This is ridiculous.

As he was still in near darkness Anton decided to try making fire first. He closed his eyes and tried to manipulate his mana, the heaviness, into a sphere above his hand. His mana obeyed his thoughts, somewhat, and slowly formed into a sphere. Anton dared a peek, though he could feel it he could see nothing.

And think of it as fire?

Even as the sphere of mana tried to return to his body, like sand running out of a bag which he constantly refilled, he envisioned it as a burning ball of fire. The mana sphere changed and began to feel like it was made of fire. It also stopped trying to return to his body, to the rest of his untransformed mana.

Anton removed the small trail of mana connecting himself to the sphere. A bright light shone through his closed eyelids. Hovering above his hand was a small ball of bright orange fire, the flames formed a vaguely tear drop shape.

"Holy shit! It worked!...Why isn’t it hot?"

Anton's bare fingers were but a few centimeters from the flame yet he felt nothing. Even more alarming was that his clothes, almost as close as he hands, were not warming either.

"It's a great illusion then."

Anton crouched down, the ball of fire followed his hand, and took a piece of straw. He held it close and it immediately burst into flames.

"Shit, it's real."

Anton dropped the burning straw and stomped until the embers had blackened. He reached to touch the straw but his fingers felt the warmth. A brief touch, followed by a searing sensation, told him it was indeed hot.

"Not the flame itself, but everything it touches?" Anton shook his head. "How does that work?"

As he pondered the question Anton looked around the barn again. Rusted tools hanged on the walls, old farming tools, memorabilia really. Sickles, hoes and pitchforks. All looked old and fashioned from hand and bound to their handles with tight straps of some sort of plant material, no screws in sight.

"It certainly looks medieval." Anton mused as he approached the tools.

As he drew closer he noticed the edges of some of the weapons were dark, far darker than rust. He tapped the darkened areas. Blood. Dried blood, but he knew what it was.

Please don't tell me those Gods sent me to some medieval cannibal cult? Is that why they told me not to leave? Was that stuff about Demons a load of crap? A bit elaborate, don’t you think?

Anton backed away and looked towards the door. Nothing was coming for him, at least not yet.

Better not wait here and find out. If I am wrong, I could just be sitting here for days waiting for nothing.

Anton gave the wooden crates a momentary glance. The wood, like everything inside the barn, was roughly cut and while the crate itself was held together only with nails. The nails were very crude, with a large roughly rounded head, like it was made by hammer rather than a machine. He gave the lids a push but all were shut tight.

"What could be so important... Oh. An axe."

A small axe lay against the wall just to the side of the door. The metal head was not stained in blood but did not look sharp. The shaft had only been roughly sanded back with a thick band of dried reeds wrapped tight to act as a handle.

"I just hope I don't have to use this. When was the last time I actually used a weapon?" Anton gripped his hand tight on the axe. He managed a smile when he looked at the fire ball. "I've already forgotten that this isn't a torch."

Anton gave the barn door a gentle push. It slowly began to swing open before slamming back in his face. Anton's heart raced as he stumbled back, raising his axe and putting the fire ball directly in front. Through the pounding of his head he heard someone running outside, away from the barn and into the distance.

"Shit." Anton held his chest, the axe laid flat underneath his hand. "Let's try that again."

Anton pushed the door with his foot, keeping his axe and fire ball up and ready to attack. This time nothing stopped him as it swung open. Rusted hinges groaned and the door stopped moving when it was open just enough to slip through. Anton raised the fire ball and peered out. Through the opening he could make out small wooden buildings only a few meters away, built similarly to the barn, complete with doors and wooden slat windows but little else.

So what ran into the door?

Anton slunk out, careful not to let the fire ball touch anything, and looked around. There were many small wooden buildings, built closely together to form a rough street. None had been built uniformly, creating a slight meandering compacted dirt path. No light emanated from the small houses, not one, but several torches illuminated the road, housed in metal frames and held almost a meter from the building.

A medieval village. I wonder if they can tell me what's really going on?

Anton turned back to the barn and jumped in surprise. The barn door had not simply stopped because it was old. A bloodied body lay slumped against the door, a middle aged man wearing brown woollen shirt and pants. Cuts and blood covered his dirty hands, one of his feet lay twisted to the side, also covered in dirt and blood.

"Fuck." Anton raced to his side. "Hey? Are you alive?"

The man was still warm but very dead. Behind him lay a great pool of blood, far more than what could be safely lost. The blood had begun to dry and stuck his clothes to his body, his limbs to one another, now only with strands of blood.

"Who did this... Demons? How am I supposed to fight them? They were massive..."

Anton heard more running, coming from where mysterious door slammer had run from. Two people emerged from behind a house, the corner of the street, a man and a woman. They wore similar clothes as the dead man with only slightly less blood. The woman's long blonde hair trailed behind her, clumped together with matted blood and dirt. Fresh blood stained the man's black hair and ran down his face in great rivers, mixing with dirt and sweat.

The woman stumbled and struck the ground hard.

"Fuck!" She struggled to her feet, her hands covered in dirt and fresh wounds. "Keep running!"

"Come on!" The man roughly took her hand and pulled. "I promised your mother that we'd live."

The two finally looked forward and saw Anton. For a moment they were utterly bewildered, Anton was still wearing his cheap suit and tie, the next relief washed over them.

"Hey!" The man waved. "You need to get-"

His body collapsed, a puppet whose string had been cut, and skidded along the ground. His head hit a raised lump and twisted at an odd angle.

"Huh?" The woman only realized something was wrong when the man's hand held her back. "What's-"

She too collapsed in a heap, this time a great spurt of blood erupted from the back of her head. Something flew through the air and landed at his feet. A simple smooth stone, covered in fresh blood. The woman's blood.

A cackling screech echoed from between two of the houses. A child emerged and laughed. It pointed at the two downed adults and waved down the street, letting out a mocking laughter. More children emerged and ran towards the two, laughing as their feet struck the ground. One neared the torch. They were not human.

"The fuck are they?" Anton snapped himself out of his stupor and hid behind the barn door. He kept the fire ball burning, simply because he did not know how to stop it.

The laughing creature stood in the light. The yellow skinned creature barely stood a meter tall, it sneered with a vaguely human face, one with an oversized and pointed nose, long and drooping ears, narrow eyes with an intense and hateful stare. Thin wisps of black hair lay against its head as it licked its thin lips. In its knobbly hand lay a sling, in the other two large smooth stones. It scratched its distended pot belly which hanged over its only piece of clothing, a ragged fur loincloth.

That's a fucking Goblin if I ever saw one.

The other three Goblins were just as horrific. These wielded stone daggers and sharpened sticks. While primitive Anton did not think his clothes would be enough to stop them.

A Goblin ran to the man and kicked him in the back. It screeched at the others, they laughed, and their attention turned to the woman.

Do I help them? Of course I should. But how... How do I throw this magic?

The sling Goblin screeched at another. It pointed to the bloodied stone resting near the barn. It received a flurry of screeches, laughter and was promptly ignored. It spat on the ground and trudged towards the bloodied stone with slumped shoulders and a downcast head.

Okay. Just throw it like a stone. That will work. Right? If it doesn't I'll have to hide in the barn and take them on one at a time.

The sling Goblin's eyes narrowed to little more than slots as it looked at the light from Anton's fire ball. It tilted its head and placed a stone into its sling.

Please work.

Anton pushed against the fire ball. It shot out of his hand, straight towards the sling Goblin. Stupefaction covered its face the moment before it collided. Anton felt the fire ball disintegrate through his connection the moment it touched its face.

The sling Goblin screamed as fire enveloped its body. It managed a single step before collapsing. The fire continued to burn, blackening its yellow skin and boiling the blood beneath.

The other three yellow Goblins stopped their prodding of the woman and frowned at the unnatural sight. One pointed at Anton and screeched. Without the flame above his hand, and now the dead sling Goblin providing light, he was exposed.

Anton created another fire ball, this was somewhat larger than the first as he was panicking, and threw it at the closest Goblin. The Goblin tried to shield its face but the flames still quickly enveloped its body. The remaining two shared a quick glance and ran towards him. Though they were short their legs propelled them at a tremendous speed.

Shit!

Anton threw a smaller fire ball. The Goblin fell, engulfed in flame, but was not dead. It struggled to its feet, its burning face utterly consumed by pain and rage.

The second Goblin threw its sharpened stick. Anton darted behind the barn door, the stick struck loudly before landing on the ground.

“They’re going to have to come to me.” Anton muttered softly as he gripped his axe tight. He backed away from the door, his shoes stepped on the loose pieces of straw with a loud crunch. “Fire’s going to set this whole place...I was given lightning. Right?”

The pattering of the Goblin’s feet made Anton’s heart race once again. He formed the sphere of mana again, this time imagining it as a ball of crackling and arcing lightning. When he brought it into being blue white streamed through his closed eyes. A ball of lightning hovered his hand, jittering and throwing off tiny arcs of lightning. It emitted a faint rumbling, like a continuous but distant lightning strike.

It’s magic. Some things just aren’t going to make sense.

The unburnt Goblin poked its head through. Its beady eyes constricted as it focused on the incredibly bright light. Anton threw the lightning ball. Compared to the fire ball the lightning flew like a bullet. The moment after Anton threw it the lightning ball struck the Goblin, exploding in a roar and blast of light. The Goblin’s head and neck had disintegrated in the blast, its shoulders and torso torn with deep cuts and burns. The dead Goblin collapsed against the barn door and pushed it open.

Anton created another lightning ball and waited for the third Goblin. A charred hand gripped the edge of the door as the Goblin collapsed onto the other dead Goblin. Its body shook violently, the smell of roasting flesh was unbearable. Anton threw the second lightning ball at its back. The Goblins torso disintegrated in the explosion, leaving just the burnt limb and head behind.

“That...” Anton scrunched his eyes tight. “This is...So gruesome. So different compared to television or movies.”

Anton stepped over the dead Goblins, with the axe still in his hand and a fresh fire ball to illuminate the way. No one else had entered the street, nor had the two people risen. Anton crouched and hurried to them. Neither had a heartbeat and they rested in growing pools of blood.

“Sorry.” Anton muttered. “I’m sorry. If I find anyone I’ll let them know what happened.”

Anton looked both ways along the street. Part of him wanted to follow the direction of the two, seemingly away from whatever was befalling the village, but the words of the Gods rung in his hears.

“I’m going to regret this. I just know it.”

As Anton walked along the street, his eyes straining to see the Goblins hiding in the shadows, fearing a stone striking his head before being set upon, he began to hear shouts. It was a mixture of voices, words he could understand and screeches of the Goblins.

Someone’s still alive. I hope that they don’t attack me. I do look pretty strange.

Anton followed the noise until the street came to a crossroads, the pathway before him was blocked by a mixture of overturned hand drawn carts, planks of wood and huge piles of straw. He managed to find a gap and peered through. Goblins and Humans fought in a bloody struggle. Both had formed lines, the Goblins and their pointed sticks, the Humans with their pitchforks and hoes. They ebbed back and forth, unwilling to be the first to charge and break, while stones flew in all directions. A man was struck in the head and collapsed. The Goblins tried to charge into the hole but were impaled on the pitchforks and quickly retreated.

I’ve got to get higher. I can’t help down here.

Anton stepped back. The ramshackle barricade formed a rough path towards the roof of the neighboring building. Anton started the climb but the fire ball remained just above his hand.

Maybe...Maybe I can just move it around me. Without throwing it?

With the most gentle touch Anton pushed the fire ball above his head. Much to his relief the flaming ball responded and hovered above his head. Again he couldn’t feel the heat but he could now climb. Splinters dug into his hand as the shouting beyond grew louder and louder, now the sounds of metal striking metal rang out.

Not good. Not good at all.

Anton jumped to the roof. His shoes slipped on the thatch roof, throwing off clumps, but he persevered. He scrambled to the top and winced at the sight. The wooden buildings formed a circle which Anton presumed acted as some sort of market plaza during the day. While the circle was full of movement almost all was of yellow skin of the Goblins, all pushing towards a single point. The Humans had been pushed into a tight bunch before the largest of the buildings and were continuing to constrict. Though the flashes of torches Anton saw their pained faces, men and women of all ages gasping for breath as the crush pushed upon them.

“Like a fucking stampede.” Anton tried to stand but his shoes slipped. He landed hard on the ridge of the roof, his hands stung but he pulled himself up. “Okay...Take this.”

Anton threw the fire ball at the Goblins. The flames consumed only a few Goblins, ten at the most, but their terrified screeches cause a ripple of fear to travel over their side. Their attacks against the Humans lessened as they searched for the unknown attacker.

I need something bigger. They’re not mindless...I need something to break them. And nothing scares people like lightning.

Anton knew he did not have time to experiment. Already some of the closest Goblins had found him. They pointed and screeched, a thrown rock struck the roof beneath his feet.

“Fuck off!” Anton yelled.

He shuffled behind the ridge of the roof as the stones continued to fly towards him. He closed his eyes and began to create as many lighting balls as he could. As he released one he created another, taking more and more of the heaviness, his mana from his body, and made them hover behind him. When there was simply nothing more to take he looked back towards the Goblins. They had resumed their attacks on the Humans while they continued to throw rocks and stones at him. Some had started to climb onto the buildings to reach him. Their expression’s dropped when they saw the sheer number of lightning balls that Anton had. Anton was sure that it was an impressive number but it was nearly impossible for him to think straight. Only adrenaline kept him going, Esperit’s words of warning less than a distant memory.

That many was a mistake. But there’s nothing else for it!

Anton threw and scattered the lightning balls over the Goblins, uncaring where they landed. They landed and exploded at once in a mighty flash of light and the roar of dozens of lightning strikes. Hundreds of Goblins died simultaneously, hundreds more were horribly wounded. The entire Goblin force was completely stunned, but the Humans weren’t. A mighty cheer erupted from the beleaguered Human as they charged. They hacked through the panicking Goblins with their farming tools and even their bare hands. Something at the rear of the Goblin’s screeched. The Goblins began to retreat, not as a cohesive force but a complete rout.

“Yes...” Anton’s head began to spin, like his body was trying to fly away now that his mana, the heaviness had left him. “I...I hope they can understand...”

All of the strength left Anton’s body. His legs crumped and his chest struck the ridge of the roof, knocking the wind from his lungs. As he began to slide down, his shoes unable to find anything or the strength to stop him he was certain that he heard voices approaching. His left foot struck a raised piece of wood just before the edge of the roof, stopping his body as his mind went dark for the second time that day.

Volume 05 - Chapter 58 - Scaled Tails

“This way.” Noori smiled. “I was surprised to hear that Mike, that idiotic prick, was going to let some outsider meet the Feral Beast-kin. No offense to you, of course.”

Anton smiled at the Feral Beast-kin. Noori was the Feral Beast-kin they had seen when they had first entered Al Qadikha. Up close he looked very similar to a Canine Beast-kin albeit with longer ears and rougher and dirtier fur.

“He had a change of heart.” Anton smiled. “I can be very persuasive.”

Noori shrugged. “If you say so. Doesn’t matter to me. He only comes up here if something’s wrong so I don’t see him often. And the less I see of him the better.”

I doubt you’ll ever have to see him again.

“Bad to work with?” Cetina asked softly.

Noori shrugged once again. “Yeah...And he had a weird...Doesn’t matter.”

Noori looked to the Third Wife, standing silently on the platform. “Is this right? I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“It is.” The Third Wife said loudly. “They are to be escorted towards the nearest Feral Beast-kin city.”

“Especially the Lamia’s.” Anton smiled. “They interest me a great deal. The precursors for an entire Beast-kin race. I would very much like to study them.”

Noori smirked. “They’re great fun. Alright. But if you see them don’t do anything too quickly or anything, and I mean anything, that looks like you’re about to attack them. They see things differently. They see...It’s like they see movement a thousand times better than we can.”

Can snakes do that? They can certainly detect heat, Eider can to a degree. Maybe there’s a slight flare of heat when someone is about to attack? One way to find out.

“We promise that we will not make any unnecessary moves.” Anton said. “I have doubly learnt the value of keeping my mouth shut while we were travelling with the Nomad Tribes.”

Noori’s eyes fell upon Zuhura. “Yes...They are nice enough, most of the time. But you don’t want to hear about that.”

The Third Wife gently cleared her throat. “Take them to the closest Feral Beast-kin city and introduce them to the ruling Lamia Clan. Once they are safe return here.”

“As you wish.” Noori clicked his tongue as he looked to the west. “About a half day’s walk but nothing too bad. How about I get some more supplies from the town?”

“Sure.” The Third Wife shrugged. “Just remember that they won’t be on the return journey, so don’t take too much.”

“Right, right.” Noori smiled. “Then it won’t be a problem then.”

“Good luck.” The Third Wife said as the platform began to descend. “I don’t think your visit to Al Qadikha will be forgotten in a long time.”

“I certainly hope not.” Anton smiled and gave a final wave as she descended from view.

“What is she talking about?” Noori asked.

“We just helped them a little.” Anton clapped his hands together. “So where are we going?”

Noori pointed further west. The flat stony plateau only covered a few hundred meters. Beyond that the stone dipped down and began to form a rough and craggy expanse. A path had been smoothed through the small boulders, leading towards a thin trail of smoke to the side of a large stony hill. Giant boulders lay precariously, threatening to fall over with just a decent push.

“That’s the place we’re heading to.” Noori said. “The closest Feral Beast-kin city. There should be a Lamia representative there, if that’s what you want?”

“It is.”

“Let’s get going then.” Noori pointed to a hand drawn cart. “They won’t let us use Camels or anything, the Lamia’s say they’re too valuable for us, but I’m more than strong enough to pull it.”

Noori patted his arms. Though a thick fur coat covered his arms he clearly had a decent amount of muscle.

“Please, lead on.” Anton motioned towards the distant city.

Noori smiled as he began to pull the cart. It was surprisingly well balanced and easy to move, Noori had probably worked on it quite a bit. The few other Feral Beast-kin continued with their work after giving Noori a quick wave.

“Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Anton asked. He silently ordered Calo and Sheso to keep an eye on their surroundings.

“Sure.” Noori shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

“Do you refer to yourselves as Feral’s?”

“It doesn’t really matter to me.” Noori grunted and pulled the cart over a small stone. “They can call us whatever they want.”

“So what do you call yourselves?”

“Um...I don’t really know. Just by our species.” Noori flicked his long ears. “They call me a Feral Canine. Apparently there are some other types of Beast-kin, slaves, that look different. Is that true?”

“It is, unfortunately.”

“That’s a shame.” Noori laughed. “At least here we can feel the sun on our fur.”

Anton winced. The Seocurian Empire used a similar phrase to describe a method of execution by a crucifixion in the hot Seocurian sun, which the Beast-kin unknowingly adopted to symbolise freedom. Noori simply smiled as they continued along the trail.

“And what about the Lamia’s?” Cetina asked. She kept a hand on her sheathed sword, Noori had no issue with Cetina wielding a sword.

“Long snake people.” Noori laughed. “They’re pretty nice, so long as you don’t get involved in their wars. More...How do I describe it? It’s a sort of tribal thing. Anyway, so long as you don’t get involved you’ll be fine.”

“Everywhere we go there’s always fighting.” Anton mused. “So what’s it over this time?”

“Um...I think it’s the same as it is everywhere. Wealth and land?” Noori shrugged as they started walking down the slight slope. “There are five Lamia Tribes. Each holds about the same amount of land but they’re always vying for control. When one starts to get too big the others gang up on them, crush that tribe and then it starts all over again.”

“Lots of small battles, some raiding and loot but no gigantic battles?”

“Yes...How did you know?”

“A bit of history.” Anton smiled. “But I am a little surprised that they’re fighting each other.”

“Really?” Zuhura asked.

“Maybe not. But without an external foe one can quickly turn on your friends and former allies.”

Hopefully that won’t happen to Atros, not for a long time at least.

“I wouldn’t know.” Noori smiled. “I try not to get involved. It’s much safer that way.”

They continued along the smooth path, watching the endless rocky terrain roll past. Anton saw small creatures darting through the brown stones but they were too nervous to show their faces. Noori idly chatted with them about the world, he wanted to know anything and everything he could about the world beyond Al Qadikha. He was endlessly fascinated by what fields of grass looked like.

“I…” Noori stopped, the cart continued and gently tapped his behind. “Something’s not right.”

“Feral Beast-kin Bandits?” Anton asked softly.

“I can’t see anything.” Calo said. “But I really don’t know what I’m looking for either.”

“It’s the smell.” Noori removed his hat and sniffed deeply at the air. “I can smell Lamia’s but it’s not the same.”

His boots and fingers began to twitch. Anton scanned the large rocks and boulders. They were near the large hill but he could see nothing coming down.

Noori pointed forward along the road. Five creatures moved along the road towards them at great speed. Noori visibly relaxed as they approached. The Lamia’s looked almost like Anton expected: human upper bodies with a massive snake body for the lower half. Unlike the Centaurs all of the Lamia’s wore clothing, albeit scant. Of the five Lamias three were women, they wore a thin piece of cloth across their significant chests and another loosely draped around their waists like a sarong. The men only had the cloth around their waists. This left their dark bronzed skin exposed to the harsh sun, tiny beads of sweat ran down their clearly defined muscles down to their dull brown snake body. Unlike Eider their scales were quite large and covered in deep scratches, especially those on their underbelly.

“What are you doing here? Noori?” A male Lamia moved forward as the others began to spread out. “It is not time for you to come and trade. And certainly...Certainly not with humans. I thought you knew of our customs?”

Anton was struck by how large the Lamia’s tail actually was. It was not two or three times the size of the human half, easily ten or fifteen. It undulated, bizarrely seductively, to move across the ground. The Lamia’s did not care what they slithered over, be it jagged rocks or the smooth ground. When one reared up slightly he saw the scales had a slight powdering of white covering it. How they did not wear them out Anton did not know.

Is it like a fingernail that continuously grows from within? Certainly not the right thing to ask now.

“I understand that humans are not overly welcome.” Noori chuckled nervously. “But Mike-”

“That lecherous human is still alive?” A female asked, her tail body twitched in a way that Anton felt was overwhelming disgust.

“Yes. And he had sent these humans to meet with you. I believe they are researching the Feral Beast-kin and need to see more than just us.” Noori smiled. “At least that’s what I was told. I was only bringing them to the border city to meet you...Why...Why are you out here anyway?”

“Pakdel’s.” The Lamia moved his tail into a coil. “They’ve been spotted in this region. A lot of them. So we’re all a little nervous.” His golden brown eyes fell on Anton. “Then we see that humans are travelling in our lands.”

“Hello. My name is Anton.” He bowed his head but kept an eye on the Lamia’s, just in case they were about to attack. “And these are my companions-”

The Lamia’s began to snicker and laugh, the women idly tossing their long braided brown hair over their shoulders.

Anton readied several Lightning Bombs. “Did I say something wrong?”

“We are curious why Frindal’s would come so far into these lands.” The male ran a hand diagonally against his chest. A leather band, the same colour as his skin, followed his hands. It was too thin to be armour but enough to support something on his back. “The last time you came here you humans were utterly slaughtered. Running and screaming, trampling over the rocks as you fled for your lives.”

The Lamia rose up and shifted his body to the side. A glint of metal caught the sun, the tip of a massive spear. It was far longer than a normal javelin and too long for a pike. Anton’s eyes drifted to their long tails. Along its length he saw many deeply scarred scales forming lines near the end of their tail.

Do they throw them? With that body how far could they throw it? The Frindal’s don’t have much in the way of heavy metal armour…Would it be like an organic ballistae? I don’t want to find out.

“But…” A female Lamia wiggled closer. “They don’t look like Frindal’s. Well, three of them do...” She lent her body close to the ground before rising to meet Anton’s eye level. “Their skin is far too pale. Have you spent all your life in a cave?”

“No.” Anton took a small step back, the female Lamia smirked and withdrew back slightly. “We come from the north. Beyond the sea. And we are researchers. We have come to study the Feral Beast-kin,” Anton raised his hands. “As the Coastal Frindal’s have called you, but we cannot do our study without actually visiting you.”

“I see…” The female Lamias eyed him hungrily.

Cetina leant close. “Do you just have a scent for Beast-kin?”

“Alright.” The Male Lamia turned to his side. “We should discuss this further with our Elders. They will determine what kind of tribute you will have to pay.”

“Tribute?” Anton asked softly.

The male Lamia smiled. “Humans are not welcome in our lands. Not after how your kind constantly tried to enslave and destroy us. I hope that you have enough gold-”

The second male collapsed in a heap. From his side the wooden end of a massive javelin jutted out, blood seeped from his wound and into the dry ground. He wasn’t dead, the snake tail coiled around his human half as he began to spasm wildly.

“They’re here!” The female Lamia’s darted for whatever cover they could find. They smashed against the stone, drew their long javelins and peeked over the rocks.

“Get behind me.” Cetina grabbed Anton and shielded him with her body and the cart.

Noori screamed in panic and dropped to the ground. Anton waved for everyone else to drop and join them. Mezot crashed into Anton’s body and began to chant. An ice shield emerged over the cart. Noori did not notice as he kept his head between his knees and muttered something over and over. Axia grabbed his hand and held tight, so too did Mezot. Anton squeezed them back and looked over the cart. He couldn’t see anything from the direction the javelins came from.

“Don’t let them see your tail!” The surviving male darted to his fallen companion. “They’ll-”

Two javelins whistled through the air. One smashed into a protective boulder, the wooden shaft exploded into splinters a great crack ran through the stone. The second struck an exposed tail, puncturing right through the scales. Flesh and mangled scales bundled around the spears tip as it buried itself into the ground.

“Fuck!” The female screamed. She tried to pull her tail body into a bundle but the javelin had cut through something important. Her tail shuddered as it slowly pulled itself towards safety.

“I told you not-”

Another javelin struck the male Lamia, cleaving his head from his shoulders. The head rolled and bounced over the ground to stop just a few feet from Anton. It was strange that the first thing he noticed was their human skin was actually hundreds of tiny bronze scales, incredibly flexible with lighter coloured scales underneath their long hair, the scales on their scalp had gaps between them which their hair grew through.

“Can anyone see where those javelins are coming from?” Anton asked.

Cetina peeked over the top and scanned the nearby hill. The uniform boulders and rocks made it very difficult to see anything. Something moved, a piece of stone brown camouflage strung between two large boulders. Within the blink of an eye it struck the wounded Lamia. This time it skewered through her tail. She screamed, the tip of the javelin was covered in something more than just blood and flesh, a weak brown material that reeked.

So their digestive tract goes along their entire body? She’s not going to survive this without magic. Blood poisoning, in this heat…Yeah. She’s dead.

“I see them!” The surviving male drew his javelin. “Kill the Pakdels!”

Anton received a worried shrug from Zuhura.

The two surviving female Lamia’s held their javelins aloft before their tail grabbed and began to coil around it. Their bodies contorted and twisted, the scales bulged as the muscles contracted under incredible, before releasing the tension and throwing the javelin at tremendous speed towards the camouflage. The pieces of wood cut through the cloth and threw splinters in all directions.

“Is this like the weapons you want to create?” Cetina asked.

The Lamias cheered as a scream echoed through the air. The females looks very happy but the surviving male held the long javelin tight against his chest.

“A lot more destructive.” Anton saw more camouflage cloth move. “But this is still pretty bloody dangerous.”

Two steel javelins, shining bright in the harsh sunlight, flew from the two bushes. Anton realised the female Lamia’s were still exposed. The steel javelins pierced their chests and threw them to the ground. The ends were splayed out with five large metal fins, each ending with a curved metal hook. It was a little excessive but the damage was undeniable. Both coughed up great mouthfuls of blood, a final spasm and fell still.

“It cut through their spines.” Anton mused. “There’s not much I can do now. Not that they seemed like they were that friendly.”

“Why aren’t they wearing armour?” Calo asked. She and her sister crouched low behind Cetina. One advantage of being so slim was how little space they took up.

“Against that it probably doesn’t matter.” Cetina clicked her tongue. “I doubt even a shield Rasha could barely carry would be thick enough.”

It’s the accuracy of those throws…Spins…And I can’t see where they’re throwing them from.

The last Lamia glanced at Anton once, Anton gave no signal they were going to help, they had every reason not to, clicked his tongue and darted towards the bushes on the hill. Again Anton marvelled at how fast they could move with such large bodies. Very little actually touched the ground, merely enough to lift the Lamia up to the next point. Two iron tipped javelins flew from the bushes, the Lamia dodged both with a flexibility he did not expect from something so large. He let out a mighty war cry and dived into the camouflage cloth.

“What’s the plan?” Cetina asked.

“What?” Zuhura asked. She crouched just behind Axia and looked the most terrified, Noori excepted. “What are you talking about?”

“Never been in a real battle?” Sheso asked softly.

“Do we help the attackers or these Lamia’s?” Anton replied. The one Lamia that was partially alive continued to constrict itself into a knot of tail. Blood wept between the tiny gaps between the shifting scales. “Some sort of death curl, like a spider?”

Screams and shouts came from above. The bushes exploded with a giant knot of snakes that began rolling down the hill. Some were brown scaled, like the Lamia’s lying dead, but some were a dark blue colour. Cetina and Anton ushered them away from the cart. Anton reached underneath the cart and grabbed Noori by his arm and dragged him away. Noori did not cooperate and continued to mutter under his breath as the mass of snakes came tumbling down the hillside with hundreds of smaller stones rolling before them. Some struck the cart, smashing it to pieces and where Noori once stood.

“Run!” Noori gathered a semblance of sanity and began to run back towards Al Qadikha, not sparing a single glance back. He passed through Mezot’s Ice shield, covering himself in deep cuts coated with frost. Cetina called out to him but the Feral Beast-kin was not listening.

The coiled mass shouted something but Anton couldn’t understand it over the male Lamia’s shrieks. With an almighty thud it landed on the cart's remains and continued to writhe; the different colours slipped and slid over each other. Anton found it strangely…alluring, but he was looking at a battle to the death.

The male Lamia stuck its human body above the mass and locked eyes with Anton. His mouth opened but a dark blue tail wrapped itself around his neck and pulled back hard. Blood and bones jutted out of his neck as the thin tail continued to pull down but his body remained upright, ripping his head and spine from his body. The brown scaled Lamia fell limp while the dark blue snake continued to writhe and constrict.

“Fucking close.” A deep female voice emanated from the mass of Lamia. “He almost got me.”

“I told you to keep your last spear.” A male voice came from the same location. “I told you he was coming up.”

“If he hadn’t dodged it wouldn’t have been a problem.”

The dark blue snakes stopped moving and began to slither away from the brown Lamia. As Anton expected two Lamia’s emerged. They were similar in structure to the Brown Lamia’s except their skin had a shade of deep blue and their hair black. Unlike the Browns their hair was short and kept in a braid with a bone amulet at the end.

“I told you there were humans down here.” The male Blue Lamia wiped away the blood staining his human body. They both wore the same clothes, or lack thereof, as the Browns. “And not Ferals.”

“Well, there were Feral’s down here.” The female reared up next to the bleeding Brown Lamia, a large wooden javelin in her hands. “Seems like there’s more humans than us, for once.”

She thrusted the javelin into the bleeding mass. It shuddered and screamed, both backed away as the tail tip flailed about violently in an attempt to smack its attacker. After a few seconds it too fell onto the ground and the knot began to unravel. Unimaginable pain contorted the Lamia’s face so badly his jaw had dislocated.

Are those spears coated with poison? Venom? Eider has venom but they should still be immune to their own. But they are slightly different, perhaps the Browns and Dark Blues aren’t immune to each other.

“I thought there’d be more.” The blue female smirked as she ripped the javelin free. “More of a fight.”

“If there were any more we’d be in trouble.” The male slithered to her side. He, unlike the Brown Lamia’s, lowered his body close to the ground as he moved, only rising up when he stopped. “But we’ve been ignoring the humans while speaking about them. If nothing else it is incredibly rude.”

Anton tapped Mezot’s shoulder and told her to drop the ice shield. She hesitated but did as she was asked. She and Axia reluctantly relinquished hold of his hand.

“Hello.” Anton stood up. He glanced back to see Noori still running. “Who…” Anton took a deep breath. “This is very confusing for us. We were speaking with those Lamia and then…”

The male laughed. “Humans don’t often come to these lands.” He folded his arms and nodded towards the faint smoke trail at the destination. “Most don’t try and actually head to an Akram city.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t know the names of the Lamia Tribes.”

“Ha!” The male shook his head. “If they didn’t tell you that the Akram controlled the city then they probably wanted you to die.” He slithered back and forth, keeping an eye on the dead brown, Akram, Lamia’s. “Unlike us. We don’t kill humans on site, even if we don’t have the best history.”

Guess Mike wanted us to die here. And his Wives didn’t have much love for us either. We did kill their husband...Oh well. Something we’ll bring up next time we meet. At least we have more magic here than in the rest of Frindal.

“Humans do not appear to have the best history with anyone.” Anton said, both of the blue Lamias smiled. “But I think it would be best to start from the beginning. Like who you are, you’re clearly not part of their Tribe, and what is happening.”

“I-”

“Not here.” The female raised her hand. “They’ll be coming here soon. When these idiots,” She struck the dead Brown male with her tail. “Don’t come back with their captives, they'll send out an actual force.”

The male glumly nodded. “And we can’t deal with that many.”

“Noori seemed nice.” Sheso said softly. “Was he going to try and sell us out?”

“Probably.” The blue male Lamia smirked. “But...To be fair to him, I don’t think there’s much choice. Especially when you’re being strangled by our bodies.”

“You have to understand that we are more than a little confused, perhaps a little dubious.” Anton received frowns from the Lamias. “You were the attackers.” Anton raised his hand. “Not that I’m saying that you’re in the wrong here.”

“Well,” The male folded his arms. “I am Sattar. And she is Simin. Pakdel clan.”

At least the clan names are lining up.

“I’m afraid that we don’t know anything about the inter-clan rivalries of the Lamia’s.” Anton said. “But the Akram said that we had to pay tribute.”

Sattar scoffed. “Tribute. Is that what they’re calling it now? No. Just a ransom. But normally it's from the Feral Beast-kin. So you’d probably just be sold to the highest bidder.”

I wonder what they would have said if they knew that I could heal people? Probably what Zuhura thought Hazm would have done and kept me prisoner. I doubt they would let me see anyone I’m travelling with. They...I think a few Lamia clans would have burned down before something like that happened.

Simin looked behind, along the road towards the city. "They’ll be sending someone out here soon. And there’s no way we can hide these five idiots...I’m not in the mood to lug their fat tails into a valley.”

The blue Lamia’s, from the Pakdel Clan, did indeed have a thinner but longer tail, albeit only slightly.

“Do we head back?” Zuhura asked. “If we arrive at the city without the Brown Lamias-”

“Akram.” Sattar said.

“...Akram Lamias. They’re going to treat us even worse. And we don’t have Noori with us, so…”

“Worst is that we’ll just have to turn around.” Anton clicked his tongue. “There are only a few of us.”

“Just come with us for now.” Simin said. Sattar folded his arms and nodded seriously. “We’ve got food and water, if you need it. And the Arkam’s won’t find you there. You can work out what you’re doing there.”

“And the one with the staff used Spirit Magic.” Sattar nodded towards Mezot. “We could really use your help.”

I presume they’re going to be talking about healing. Do they not know Mages don’t know every type of magic? Still, I could heal them, even under this mana dampening field.

"I don't want to be involved in another battle." Anton raised his hand. "But don't think we aren't capable of defending ourselves."

Anton created a small Fire Bomb. The Lamia's recoiled in shock, pulling their snake bodies back and raising their spears. Anton almost smiled, they looked like snakes ready to strike an attacker. Anton withdrew the Fire Bomb.

"You're a Spirit Caller?" Sattar raised his spear and slithered forward, maintaining his coiled body should he need to strike. "A human Spirit Caller?"

"We are called Glyph Mages." Anton smiled faintly. "But it might be the same thing. I just wanted to show you that we have more than swords and arrows."

Simin laughed. "When they would have tried to separate you from your friends they would have discovered that." Simin relaxed her body, the sake tail flattened out while Sattar remained tense. "But we aren't like that. So, do you want to come with us? Our hideout is on top of that hill."

She pointed towards the summit of the mountain they had attacked from. Anton could not see any cave or entrance, but that was the point of a hideout after all.

Anton glanced at the dead Akram Lamias.

Our choices are to go with these Pakdel Lamias, but we can probably fend off any attack, or return but leave a set of portal stones floating around...If we had an army, with my weapons, then it wouldn’t matter. But they seem nicer than the others...There’s one way I can find out.

"How far is it to your hideout?"

"Not too far.” Simin smiled. “Well, for us. For you, with legs, it might be a bit of a journey. But we'll go slow."

"So long as there aren't any more patrols." Sattar began retrieving the javelins.

The two steel javelins required him to coil a significant part of his body around the end, pushing the corpse down before ripping up with all the might his muscular tail body could give. The spears came loose but not without eviscerating the body. Shredded flesh was casually shaken off before it was placed with the other wooden javelins.

“But that won’t be happening for a while.”

“You can understand why I’m a little bit nervous to come with you.” Anton said. The two Lamias nodded. “So...There is a way that I can trust you.”

“What’s that?” Sattar asked.

“Could you please give me the end of your tail?”

“My...My what?” Sattar stammered. He looked a little embarrassed.

“I just need to touch a portion of your skin in order to make sure.”

Sattar threw Simin a look. She shrugged and offered her own tail.

“I’m sure mine will work just as well. Normally only our mates would ask to do something like that.” Simin looked at Sattar. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t know that.”

“Given your reluctance I was about to ask if that was an issue. Any part of your body would do.” Anton smiled. “I just need...Contact. Gods, that does sound weird, doesn’t it?”

The two shared a smirk as Anton touched about halfway up her snake tail. Anton chanted the Truth Prayer aloud. Simin’s body twitched but she did not try and flee.

“Are you going to try and betray us or cause any harm to us?”

“No.” Simin frowned. “I just said that...What sort of magic-”

Anton raised his hand. “How many are there in your hideout?”

“Just the two of us.”

“Okay then.” Anton removed his hand. “For now I can trust you. Please, lead on. We will follow as best we can.”

The Pakdel Lamias slithered close to the ground as they began their ascent. While they could move seemingly effortlessly between and over the large stones, a rather distracting vision, it was rather difficult for them. Especially for Mezot and Zuhura. Mezot spent most of her time in a library and Zuhura, while performing many domestic duties, did not usually have to exert herself like this. The others did alright with Axia somewhere in between. Simin began to pull ahead, not really watching how slow they were moving and had to be called back. Sattar held a sheepish grin as Simin frowned angrily.

"What brings actually you humans here?" Sattar asked. “You say you’re not from Frindal, at least one of you is, but did you really come all this way to get a look at us?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Anton spoke slowly and carefully. With every step he took the rocks threatened to give way and send him sliding down to a very unpleasant injury. “Researchers have to go far to study.”

“But us?” Sattar raised a brow.

Anton did not reply immediately. “And what about you? I do not have an accurate map of Frindal but I presume that your clan, Pakdel, aren’t from around here.”

“No. We’re to the south.” Sattar pointed towards the south.

The stony expanse continued for many miles but began to slowly change with more dull green vegetation further away from the stone wall. Anton could even see the Feral Beast-kin city, probably three or four times as large as Hardheim, beyond that lay simple plantations and crop fields, of what type of plant he did not know.

“We’re here...Well, what did Noori tell you? That Feral Beast-kin you had with you?”

“That you fight a lot.” Anton said flatly. “That you’re engaged in an endless struggle for dominance that you can’t seem to win since you’re so fractured.”

“That’s...Not completely untrue.”

Sattar stopped and scratched at the join of his two bodies. Although his lower snake body was all but impervious to the jagged edges of the stones littering the mountainside his human skin was not. He grumbled as he pulled some small stones free, along with some small spike seeds. Anton looked between the smallest rocks to find the plant, barely a few inches across and covered in thorny seeds.

“Damn things.” Sattar flicked it away. “Anyway, yes. Our Clans have always been fighting. Three generations ago we were the ones on top. We were about to win, on the verge of conquering the Tahmine and Kamran Clans but...We didn’t. We lost nearly everything but they turned on each other before they could finish us off.”

“Not for the first time.” Simin said. “We’ve done it as well.”

“Yeah...But it’s been really hard to get back up this time.”

"But what sparks it?” Anton offered his hand to Zuhura, who gladly took it. Behind her Mezot looked on with jealousy and only relaxed when she too had been offered a hand. “Lack of territory or food? Or is it something else?"

"The territory one." Simin scoffed. "The other Lamia tribes bow and scrape at the Akram's tails but only when they're getting something for their loyalty. The moment they stop, or the Akrams look weak, they’ll turn on them and everything will go back to the way it was."

"Wouldn’t they be eliminated for their disloyalty?" Anton asked. "How could they be trusted after that many changes? Or are they mercenaries?"

Both laughed. He didn't reply but Anton presumed it was the former.

Guess loyalty is fluid amongst these Clans. Or maybe they don’t practice ‘war’ but ‘raiding’. We might just be able to interfere...These Pakdel seem alright. A perfect place to trial our new weapons. I doubt they have the industry to recreate something that’s giving the Dwarves such grief.

Finally they arrived at their destination, a small cave hidden by multiple strips of camouflage cloth. Strategically placed rocks blocked all sight of the cave from the city below and only someone looking straight at it would know of its existence. Judging by the faint dusty marks in the stone this was not a new hideout.

“Here it is.” Simin said. “Our home. Until spring, at least.”

I just can’t wait to find out how hot it is here during Summer. Maybe it’s exactly the same. The weather in this world doesn’t seem to obey normal rules.

Simin entered first, when all of her body had entered Sattar ushered them in. Anton held the bright Fire Bomb high as they entered the cavern. The floor was rough, naturally formed, but the edges were ground smooth. In some of the crevices he saw broken dark blue scales. More alarming were the brown scales that had pieces of dried and desiccated flesh still attached.

The cavern quickly widened into a large space, a beam of natural light streamed through the roof illuminating the spartan hideout. Weapons, more javelins and spears, adorned the walls, and two simple beds lay beneath them. These looked more like bird nests than what Anton was used to but it made sense given their size and body shape. Beside those were several hessian bags with some kind of dried meat hanging out. Anton hoped they were cannibals.

"This is where we live." Simin maneuvered herself to her bed. Part of her body overflowed despite coiling herself tight. "It's not much but it'll be our home for the winter."

"Not much of a winter." Sheso said. “But this is the first time we’ve ever seen snow.”

"It's a lot hotter in summer." Sattar held out his hand to the beam of light. He slithered across to his bed and curled himself up, a little more neatly than Simin. "We spend more time in the shade than outside."

"No real fighting either." Simin politely asked them to move forward.

“Perhaps that’s why your battles continue without end?” Anton suggested. “The Summer gives you time to recover, to regroup and prepare. How...No. It’s a little early to ask something like that.”

The Pakdel Lamia’s shared a glance but did not press the issue.

“So…” Simin gently motioned for them to take a seat. They had no chairs, Anton doubted something that could take Rasha’s weight would be enough for them, so they sat on the sturdy supplies. “Who are you? We didn’t catch your name.”

Something flashed through Simin’s eyes. “Like all humans you’re very clever. Getting us to talk about ourselves while offering nothing in return.” She slithered from her nest and began to circle around them. She saw Cetina ready her sword, Mezot and Axia move closer to Anton and grip their staffs tight. “An odd group of companions if you are just a scholar from across the seas.”

“You are right.” Anton began. “We are not just researchers or explorers. We also came to this land seeking something more, something that even the Frindal’s or Nomads could not offer us.”

Simin and Sattar held an expectant look, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Allies. We need allies. People that can help us. We need everyone we can get, so we are roaming far and wide in the hopes of finding people.”

"And that's us?" Sattar asked.

"It was probably going to be the Akram until you interfered." Anton smiled. “Though I get the feeling that it wouldn’t have worked out.”

Sattar held his chin. "That makes sense. So...You want our help for...What?"

"Demons." Anton said calmly. "Creatures pouring in from another dimension wreaking havoc across the world. I intend to do my part to stop them, but I am just one person." Anton created another Fire Bomb. "Albeit with some...Power of my own. I am not enough to deal with them. So, I need everything and everyone I can get."

Sattar and Simin began to furiously mutter to one another. Anton waited patiently for them to finish.

"C-Could you describe these Demons?" Simin asked. She clasped her hands to her chest. She did not appear to notice, or care, that her sparse clothing had shifted up. Anton kept his eyes focused squarely on hers.

Anton tried his best to explain what the Demons looked like, the Pakdel Lamia’s listened in rapture to his words.

"He wasn't rambling then." Sattar gently shook his head. "He was telling the truth."

“You knew this was going to happen?” Cetina touched her eyepatch. Not that anyone would really listen to Lamia’s.”

“True.” Sattar smiled. “You humans would not.”

“Who was rambling?” Anton asked. “Another Lamia had an idea that something bad was coming?”

“A Rouya.” Simin said. “I never learnt their name, they’re a tribe that’s kind of friendly with ours...At least at the moment. One day he started ranting and raving that there were beings of fire and stone that were coming to kill us.”

“I can see why anyone would think that he’d taken a bit too much to drink.” Anton said softly.

“Do you have alcohol?” Sattar asked eagerly. “I’d love to try what passes for a human’s drink.”

“I imagine you can drink a lot.” Anton nodded to their snake body. “That alone can soak up a lot of booze…So where is this rambling lunatic?”

“I think they’re still near our clan’s territory.” Simin said. “If they’re still alive. But that’s a few day’s travel. For us a few days. For you it’s going to be a lot, lot longer.”

“Not to mention you’ll be attacked every step of the way.” Sattar grumbled. “The other Beast-kin tend not to leave their cities much, because the Lamia’s hurt them badly...And that means us too, at times.”

I wonder if inbreeding is an issue?

“I would like to meet this person...Lamia. See if they are able to speak to one of the Old Gods.”

“It would still be dangerous for you.” Sattar frowned. “Far too dangerous.”

“I can appreciate that. But we have a way to deal with that.” Anton raised his hand. “If you could just give us a moment, I would like to speak with my companions.”

“Sure?” Simin shrugged, Sattar simply nodded.

Anton stepped to the far side of the room. “So, what do you think?”

“About the snake people?” Sheso raised a brow.

“Yes. We’ve come this far but those other clan, the Akram, aren’t going to be friendly with us. But these Pakdel seem nice enough.” Anton stopped, waiting for anyone to object or add something. “So...I think we should work with them.”

“And…” Cetina said softly. “You want to say something else.”

“And I want to test our new weapons here. See how dangerous they are. A perfect place, far away from Atros and yet in friendly territory.”

“I don’t see a problem.” Cetina stood upright. “It sounds like you’ve already made your decision anyway, you just wanted someone to tell you it was a good idea.”

“Sounds like they have some good stuff to drink.” Calo said. “Not that we would know anything about that.”

“Perhaps they have books.” Mezot said. Axia grunted and rolled her eyes. “So...Whatever you want, Anton.”

Zuhura shrugged lightly. She had no feelings either way.

“Since we’ve already got the Hamtaro’s in Atros some Lamia’s wouldn’t be a problem either. Maybe they’ll be visitors, since it’ll be too cold for them in the winter.”

An entire half of a continent could be our ally? That’s an incredible thing, especially since I haven’t even been here a year. And it really doesn’t cost us anything. Far from it. How many times will we get to practice on live targets without having to worry about collecting all of the bullets.

Anton smiled as they returned to the two patiently waiting Pakdel Lamias.

“We have a way to travel instantaneously across vast distance. Incredible distances.” Anton motioned for Cetina to establish the portal. “When we step through, gather the stones and return to your Clan and assemble them in a circle. We can discuss things further. I’m sure that you would be interested in trade, or at the very least healing.”

Anton smiled. “We have the capacity to even restore lost or mangled limbs, broken tails and life threatening illnesses.”

Sattar frowned at Simin. “So many of our people are wounded and cannot fight. Not to mention the illness and starvation.”

“We may be able to provide some food.” Anton said. “Not too much, as we ourselves are not truly bountiful, but it will help.”

The portal flashed white, the Lamia’s pulled lower to the ground and stared intently at the white shimmering disk.

“It’s perfectly fine. But it will leave you with a nasty head-ache when you go through.”

“I forgot about that.” Zuhura mumbled. Calo and Sheso chuckled, gently jabbing her side.

“We might be able to help you with more than just supplies.” Anton continued. “Perhaps…Perhaps there are precious minerals in your land that we could trade. Al Qadikha has many precious ores. I’m sure that we could work out a better arrangement.”

The two Lamia’s shared a look.

Anton snapped his fingers. “But to show you that I’m not all talk, are any of you injured?”

“Not particularly.” Simin nonchalantly spoke. “I think we’ve done well, considering we killed five Akram warriors.”

“No little aches or pains?” Anton asked as he approached, the two kept him firmly in their sights as their bodies coiled together. “Nothing like a out of place joint.”

“Actually…” Sattar rubbed his shoulders. “Using the Steel Javelins really puts a strain on our bodies. And I am the one that always throws them.”

Anton removed his gloves and laid his bare hand on the middle of Sattar’s tail body. The scales were almost identical to Eiders; smooth, glossy and very cool to the touch. His powerful muscles twitched under his fingers. Anton was curious how powerful it really was.

“I didn’t think that a human would have such soft hands.” Sattar leant close. The small scales forming his skin glinted in the faint light, quite an alluring sight. “Or a man with such delicate movements.”

“Are you suggesting that all men must be aggressive and rough with everything they handle?”

“No. But it does have its advantages.”

Sheso made a light groan. Her sister jabbed her side and she stopped. Anton had a faint idea what was travelling through her mind.

Anton chanted the healing prayer aloud. Sattar’s hands jumped up. He pulled his body high and rubbed the scales forming his underside.

“Not a single scratch...This is more than what the other Spirit Callers can do.”

“I would like to meet them.” Anton said. “But I’m sure they do their best. Did you know that Frindal is covered in some kind of Mana Dampening field? It’s incredibly oppressive. Even someone with a lot of reserves, like me, has to really consider what magic I can use.”

“Really?” Simin looked to Mezot and Axia, both of whom still held their staffs tight.

“It is. We haven’t discovered the source but Frindal doesn’t seem that interested in finding an answer. If anything it keeps the other Empires and Kingdoms out of their affairs, so it’s a minor issue since most people can’t use any magic.”

“I see…” Simin lowered her body towards the ground. “Sattar? How do you feel?”

“Incredible.” Sattar smiled and flexed his body. Anton stepped back, just in case he was knocked back by an excitable Lamia. “Better than I’ve ever felt. It feels like I could travel for days without stopping.”

“Did you give him something?” Simin frowned.

“No. But I believe that Sattar is just excited. Do you want me to heal you too? I still have enough magic.”

Simin smiled at Anton’s companions. “So long as your friends don’t mind you stroking a female’s tail. I’m actually a little curious.” Simin slithered from her nest and coiled her body before Anton, levelling her chest just before Anton’s face. “What sort of hands could make Sattar talk like that?”

Anton hesitated to touch her. There was something about the way she looked at him, the way her hips twirled and her snake body slithered against itself. If Verona was present she would have certainly said something, and he probably wouldn’t have disagreed with her assessment.

He coughed lightly and touched her tail in roughly the same place. Simon seemed a little disappointed but did not say anything. He healed her and Simin made the same expression as Sattar.

“I do feel better.” Simin ran a hand along her outstretched arm. “My scales feel so much better. You know.” Simin ran a hand through her hair. “You could do well in our Clan. I know a lot of Lamia’s would love to experience that. Not just the females, I can assure you of that.”

“Lamia’s-”

“We don’t worry too much about whether our partner is male or female.” Simin smiled. “Though...No. I won’t say it.” She almost started to giggle, Sattar tried his best to hold back his laughter. “You’re getting some very angry glares. Just know that we do not tire like most of you.”

“Is everyone I meet a bunch of sexed up lunatics?” Anton asked.

“It’s just how we are.” Simin moved back to her nest. “All Lamia’s are like this. Sex and violence are very similar, exhilarating and pleasurable, in their own way. Those Akram wouldn’t have cared if you were male or female. You’d have probably gone to the Haraka. Think of it as a male Lamia...Group.”

Calo glanced at Sheso. She said nothing, keeping her face perfectly flat.

“Are you so willing to act like this after I healed your body?” Anton stepped back. “You’re acting like we’ve been friends for a long time...Are all Lamia’s like this?”

Both nodded. Though it was all in jest Anton felt that there was something more to it.

If they’re willing to be so ‘fluid’ with their relationships, it probably hasn’t done great for their Clan cohesion and hampered their war effort. Interesting…

“On a more serious note.” Cetina stepped next to Anton. The two Pakdel Lamia’s eyed her sword nervously. “Before I have to stop some very over-excitable Beast-kin-”

“Oh.” Sattar waved his hand. “I once heard that there were other Lamia’s to the north. Do they look similar to us?”

“I don’t know.” Anton said softly. “They were all killed about fifty winters ago.”

Both looked a mixture of horror and disgust.

“Because they were too dangerous. Your tails...They were killing their Masters. Their Slave Masters.”

“Oh…” Sattar sighed. “That’s very sad.”

“True. But another Beast-kin species was made from that. And they’re very nice, surprisingly nice.”

“I see…”

“One of the things I intend to stop.” Anton smiled. “Among a great many other things. So, what do you think? I can easily heal about five or six Lamia’s a day, more if their afflictions are not severe.”

Sattar bit his lip. “This...Is beyond what we can agree to. Not that we’re telling you no, it’s just that we cannot possibly speak for our entire Clan.”

“I understand.” Anton stepped near the portal. “By all means, take the portal stones to your elders and we can discuss it further. But I would truly like for you to consider our offer. Though I may not look it, I do know a bit about war and how it is possible for you to become the dominant Clan. But a little help always goes a long way.”

Anton didn’t know if it was the right move to offer a hook like that but it appeared to do the trick. Sattar and Simin muttered to one another. The faint smile on their faces told him everything.

“Very well.” Simin folded her arms. “We will take these stones back to our Clan, somewhere safe. Do...Do they just need to be placed into a circle?”

“They do. They’ll sort of snap together.” Anton smiled. “But...I’m afraid that our short time is already at an end.”

“Oh…” Simin looked at Sattar. “Kind of forgot that you were Humans. You are pleasant enough to speak with.”

“My thanks.” Anton ushered them towards the portal. “When you establish the portal place something on the white disk. Like a branch or a small stone. We won’t...Just trust me. It’ll be necessary for it to work. It might take us a little while to come back through but we will not ignore you.”

“This…” Sattar shook his head. “Has been an unexpected day.”

“I’m sure it has.” Anton gently began ushering the others through. “I wish you two well. And I hope that you make it back safely. I think, no. I know that our future will be very prosperous together.”

Again the two Lamia’s shared a look as Anton prepared to step through. Only Cetina and Zuhura remained.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea leaving this with them?” Zuhura asked.

“Our journey through Frindal is at an end. And we don’t have time to trundle back to the coast.” Anton gave the two Pakdel Lamia’s a smile. “But I trust them.”

He turned to Cetina. “And if something goes wrong we can always just destroy the portal building and bury it. So I’m not too worried.”

“I’m more worried what Verona’s been up to.” Cetina said slyly. “You know what that woman’s like.”

“That I do.”

“Good luck with your journey and stay safe.” Anton said as Cetina and Zuhura stepped through. “I hope to meet you again soon.”

“Bring us some of your human alcohol when you come back.” Sattar said. “Perhaps we can discover if humans are as weak as the other Clans say.”

Anton gave the Lamia’s a final wave before stepping through the portal. There was nothing more they could do in Frindal, their job was done. Even if engaging with the Lamia’s turned out to be a failure they still had the Hamtaro’s, Zuhura and the flat green Dragon Crystals. And it wasn’t like they couldn’t return one day with an army. Anton briefly wondered if the Akram Clan would regret their actions one day, when Atros soldiers were storming through their lands. Not this day, but soon. Far sooner than they could possibly imagine.

Volume 05 - Chapter 59 - Well Deserved Downtime

“We’re back!” Calo cheered. The next breath she shuddered and pulled her arms to her chest.

The chill wind of Atros was a pleasant, albeit brisk change to the unending heat of Frindal. However, it symbolised something else. Their adventures through Frindal had ended. For now at least. It would be a few days before the Lamia’s reached their destination and, for the first time in ages, there was little that Anton had to do. It was an odd feeling. So odd that Cetina leant forward and frowned.

“It is good to be back.” Anton gave Cetina’s rear a little pat. “Though it does seem a little strange.”

Cetina gave a curt nod. Her hand instinctively reached for the small hessian bag that usually contained the portal stones. She patted her back nervously, but she quickly realised where they were.

“Normally they’re there.” Cetina smiled. “Almost panicked a little bit.”

Zuhura stood in the centre of the portal room, alongside Mezot and Axia. While Mezot and Axia had removed their head scarfs Zuhura kept hers up. Anton did not know if she felt more secure with it on, though it was very cold outside. Doubly so after coming from such a hot land.

“What…” Cetina bit her lip. “What do we do now?”

“Bebbezzar?” Sheso offered as they stepped out of the smaller room. Zuhura and Axia stopped speaking and took a step back. “There’s that letter that your Aunt received.”

“I don’t think we’re in a position to do much.” Cetina sighed despondently. “I mean…”

Anton took her hand. “At least with Qaiviel we were just support. If it’s as bad as it sounds, the Royals hiring every mercenary they can get their hands on, then we might not be able to turn the tide. But I think we should still look into it.”

“That ship of yours,” Calo pulled her clothes tighter against her slim body. “It’s heading towards the Holy Kingsland at the moment. So...It’ll be a long time before it can get there anyway. And I don’t know if any ships are going to be heading there from Alcanares. I mean we could ask but we’d need to leave someone on the ship and have to explain why we aren’t there.”

“True. Cetina? What do you think?”

Cetina slowly shook her head. “Maybe we should have a look. But I think that you, Anton, have to stay here for a few days. At the very least.”

“Any reason in particular?” Anton asked flatly, knowing the reason already.

“Because…” Cetina stifled a laugh. “Because you have two pregnant women here that you haven’t seen for some time. Not to mention Rasha. And…” Cetina leant close to his ear. “I’d very much like to be the only one dealing with you. I would like to be able to move in the morning without have to stretch my legs.”

Anton slapped her rear again. “That’s a nice way of putting it. But, we do have someone that doesn’t even have a place to sleep.”

Zuhura slightly straightened her back. Her hands remained collapsed in front of her but she was not tense or apprehensive in any way.

“I think that Cetina’s old house is currently free.” Anton glanced to Cetina, who gave a quick nod. “It’s not massive, but it’s more than large enough for one person.”

Anton glanced to his right. He expected Verona to say something, about how the last two people that lived there he was now bedding. Zuhura did not understand his glance but Cetina did, and so did Axia, strangely.

“We’ll definitely get you something to keep you warm. The nights are much worse than the days. And sometimes a whole bunch of layers just isn’t enough.”

“I understand.” Zuhura nodded. “As I stated before, I do not know how to fight, nor have any intention of learning.”

“Is that so that Anton can always fight your battles?” Axia smiled wickedly, dramatically hiding behind her mother. “So that you can call him brave and-”

Mezot gently slapped Axia’s head and ushered her back to where she was previously standing. “That is very rude.”

“I…” Axia stood utterly dumbstruck. Slowly she turned her head towards Anton. “What did you really do to my mother? There’s no way she would have done something like that before we met.”

Mezot remained emotionless as Axia shrugged.

“Regardless.” Zuhura frowned at Axia. “I am highly skilled at domestic tasks. However, in order to do that…” The barest hint of a smile crept over her lips. “I need to know where you live.”

“Of course we’ll show you.” Anton smiled. “I think Verona and Kal will be there. Do you think that Rasha’s moved her stuff in yet?”

“I believe so.” Cetina smiled. “She could carry her bed over one shoulder. She’s ridiculously strong.”

Anton rubbed his back. “Tell me about it.”

“Anton?” Sheso weakly waved her hand. “Since we’re back we’d like to return to the Dark Elf Quarters. Our family would like to know that we’re back and safe.”

“Not to mention we have a lot of stories to tell.” Calo laughed. “Obviously we’ll only tell them the good stuff. Not, you know, the stuff with those fanatics.”

Zuhura’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“See if your grandfather knows anything about the Desert Elves. They might know something, given their past disposition as pirates.”

“There might be something.” Calo sighed. “Though I don’t think there’s going to be much to learn from raiding Frindal ships many winters after they disappeared. Maybe, maybe their parents knew something.”

“Generations of pirates.” Anton muttered.

Sheso lightly punched his arm. “It’s our way of life. At least it was. But we should go. Unless you’re about to need us again?”

“It was nice to get some actual experience.” Calo nodded. She leant backwards and rubbed her calves. “Something that doesn’t involve being on a ship or riding a horse. Even walking up that mountain was a little difficult. Any chance for some practice later?”

“Sure.” Anton received another nod from Cetina. “I’m sure that my bodyguard will be more than happy to out you two through your paces.”

“So long as it’s not part of our morning run.” Cetina said flatly. Only he understood why she would not want that precious time interrupted.

“Okay…” Calo shrugged. “We’ll talk about it later, once we’ve said hello to our families.”

“Thank you.” Anton beckoned them closer. “Thank you for coming with us. I know that it wasn’t the most arduous or exciting-”

“What are you saying?” Sheso suppressed a smile as she shook her head. “It was the most fun we’ve had in ages. Even just riding on those Weevils was something that we’d never expected to happen in our lives. Imagine what the others are going to say?”

“Certainly not believe a word that you say.” Anton pulled them into a quick hug. The twins gripped him tight and returned the hold. “Thank you.”

“Make sure you bring us on your next adventure.” Calo said as they took a step back, holding a hand to their chest. “Our entire clan’s going to be so jealous.”

After giving Cetina, Axia and Mezot a hug, a quick nod to Zuhura, the twins left and entered the snow outside. Beyond the door Anton caught sight of Rasha’s form, at least her arm and a leg. He hoped that she had not been waiting for hours for them, in the cold and constant snow.

“Let’s go home. Shall we?”

---[]---

“So Lamia’s are real?” Rasha asked as she walked beside Anton, the opposite side to Cetina, with her halberd resting over her shoulder. “Eider will be so...Actually, what would happen?”

“You think they might get angry?”

Rasha glumly nodded. “I don’t know why, but Cobra’s were made so the Seocurians…”

“It would be incredibly foolish of them to hate Eider, or any Cobra, because of their birth…” Anton sighed loudly. “I think I’ve just asked why people are racist. While they instinctively hate another person for simply being born different, not for something they’ve done. A very difficult and lengthy question.”

Anton smiled and shook his head. “Again, I ramble. But I sincerely hope not. The Lamia’s we spoke with were more curious than hostile. At least those Pakdels seemed nice.”

“They seemed very curious with you.” Axia giggled. “I’m sure they would have kept you to massage them.”

“What?” Rasha frowned lightly.

“Anton had to heal them, so he had to touch them.” Axia continued to laugh. “Apparently he has very skilled hands. Even the man...Male? Male Lamia thought so.”

“He…” Rasha’s ears flicked back. “I won’t deny that.”

“For someone that has such large ambitions and goals you do take things very flippantly.” Zuhura remarked. “I have never heard of Kings or Emperors that would act like you do right now.”

“What about Hazm? He seemed to be pretty laid back.”

Zuhura looked forward, her eyes unfocused for a second. “Perhaps. But how much of that is just a charade?”

“I’m certain that I’m talking to the correct person.”

Zuhura faintly smiled. “Regardless, I do believe that you should not behave like this before foreign dignitaries and representatives. At the very least they will not take you seriously. It may even lead to disastrous situations, where a potential enemy decides to act now because they think you’re weak.”

“I think I did alright with Hazm.” Anton said as they turned into their street. “Since I didn’t know him I tried to keep it as professional as possible.”

“But you also had Wilford with you, who knew Sultan Hazm extremely well.” Zuhura smiled. “But I think you still did well regardless. But you should have more than just two or three people with you in the future. I’m afraid that Axia, even if she is a skilled Mage, is probably detrimental to your cause.”

“I can’t help being young.” Axia pouted. Mezot gently held her daughters hand. “It’ll change. I’m fifteen winters soon...Damn. That’s still a long time away yet, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Zuhura frowned.

Anton pointed forward, unsure if he wanted to continue with this line of discussion, especially when he was already bedding her mother. Their house had several armed guards outside but they weren’t hostile. Eider, and her two bodyguards, stood outside. They were guarding, in the loosest sense of the word, but they were only there to dissuade anyone that tried to break into their house. Not that he was particularly worried with Verona inside.

“Welcome back!” Eider waved her fully gloved hand. Her eyes narrowed, as did the bodyguard’s. “What...What are you wearing? Why are you wearing a dress?”

Zuhura mumbled something but chose not to elaborate.

“Frindal clothing.” Anton said. “Is Verona and Kal inside? It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen them. And I’d like to talk with them regarding our future endeavours. By the way, how are the Hamtaros? I have barely been back to Atros since we rescued them.”

“They’re doing fine.” Eider smiled, her scaled lips curled up into a smile. “I think that soldier one, Midas, has already got a few pregnant.”

“More than a few.” A bodyguard added softly.

“Well, hasn’t he been busy.” Anton smiled. “So are they inside?”

“Actually no.” Eider nodded towards the north. “Right now they’re at Sam’s house. The baby’s fine, but they just wanted to see how they were going.”

“It’ll be one of the first babies since I came here.” Anton smiled. “At least one conceived...It’s really been that long, hasn’t it? That’s actually quite a while.”

Anton looked along the street, to the tall and sturdy buildings, the tall walls while his eyes followed the dozens of thin smoke trails rising into the sky.

Nothing like this when I first arrived. I don’t think there have been many cities have grown this fast, well, not in this world at the least.

“Hopefully we can still catch them there.” Anton said. “So are you three on guard duty until they come back?”

Eider nodded. “There’s a lot more people here, and there’s a lot more that might want to do you harm.” Eider glanced at the two Beast-kin soldiers with her. “There’s some Beast-kin that don’t like humans...Some that really don’t like those that sleep with Humans.”

“And many, many more that don’t like it the other way.” Anton sighed. “But they’re just going to have to deal with it. It’s not like it actually affects them…”

Anton sighed once again. Again he had asked why people were prejudiced against one another despite it not affecting them.

“We’ll see you later.” Anton gave a small wave. “Tell you all about our adventures in Frindal.”

“I can’t wait.” Eider smiled, her lips curled up into a smile. “I want to hear how you ended with yet another beauty by your side.”

“You’re doing alright.” Anton received a frown from the three. “Those two Beast-kin don’t look too bad. Not to mention all three of you are soldiers, so you’ve been training together...And I know that fighting alongside one another is a great way to bond. A deep bond...Wouldn’t you agree?”

All three began to stammer, trying to not look one another in the eye. Anton merely waved and turned around. He didn’t care if they were and their reaction all but confirmed it. Besides, he was certainly in no place to complain.

---[]---

“Wasn’t she adorable?” Verona held onto Anton’s arm tight. “Cute little thing.”

“She was.” Anton pulled her closer, along with Kal on his other arm. “But she spent all of her time suckling on Sam’s breasts.”

Rasha made a strange noise, eliciting an odd look from Zuhura.

“Giving birth is going to be far more painful than we first thought.” Kal murmured. “Marion told me…” Kal shook her head. “But I still can’t believe something that big can come out of there.”

“Was it the same for me?” Axia asked her mother. “Was I painful?”

“No…” Mezot looked away. Axia shrugged lightly and resumed her smile.

“Regardless, you could have just used the ring.” Verona said. “But I’m glad that you came to find us. Now...There’s someone that we need to discuss.”

Verona nodded towards Zuhura. She remained perfectly still, hands clasped before her.

“Zuhura? What has Anton told you about living here?”

Zuhura took a deep breath. “While I am not useful in combat, I know much about domestic duties as well as a basic understanding of economics. I was involved with Sultan Hazm’s finances, so I have some experience beyond theories.”

Verona smiled. “Excellent. We need someone to actually look after our home. It’s always a mess.”

“But aren’t you two there all the time now?” Anton asked.

Verona huffed. “Yeah... But soon we’ll have children-”

“I also know how to handle children.” Zuhura spoke slightly louder than normal. “In my Tribe we all had to help, especially when the men were hunting or gathering food.”

“Really?” Kal asked. A hand slowly moved to her stomach. “You’re not just making that up?”

Zuhura kept her face flat. “No. Not only would it be easily be discovered...I would not be forgiven if I were to give poor advice or service that hurt your children.”

“Well…” Kal scratched her long ear, focusing on a tiny tuft at the end. “I suppose that makes sense. And we need all the help that we can get. But, Anton, before we do that, Umikgruid wanted to see you. That special project of yours. It’s finished.”

“Really?” Anton held Kal’s hand. “Already?”

“They actually had it nearly finished just after the Hamtaro’s arrived.” Kal returned the squeeze. “But you were rather busy and they still had a few things to work out.”

Thoughts rushed through Anton’s head, images of Human and Beast-kin soldiers, storming through the streets of Danafra armed with rifles, obliterating the Seocurian defenders. Even the giant Demons falling to a hailstorm of bullets and shells flashed through his head.

“I...I want to see them.” Anton sighed. “Even though I’ve-”

“It’s fine.” Kal held a finger to his lips. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back to us, a little bit longer isn’t going to hurt. Besides, I want to see it too.”

Verona laughed. “I just want to see it work. It made a very large bang last time.”

“That’s kind of the idea.” Anton ruffled her hair. “But probably not by blowing itself up.” He took a slow breath. “However, what I am creating is extremely secret. So...Mezot? Can you, Axia and Zuhura go on to our home? Make yourselves comfortable, not that there’s much there, but I don’t want to leave you outside in the snow.”

“Do you have something to eat?” Axia asked. “We haven’t eaten...Well, since breakfast.”

Anton received a nod from Kal. “Of course. It’s not too much but it should tide you over.”

“Then I shall do my best to prepare something to eat.” Zuhura bowed her head. “We will await your return, Anton.”

Zuhura, Mezot and Axia left after giving them a final wave. Cetina and Rasha moved closer.

“Will these weapons be as powerful as you say?” Cetina asked. “Not that I doubt you.”

“I can’t wait to see them against the Seocurians.” Rasha laughed. “The Empire ones, that is, if what I’ve heard from Cetina is true.”

Anton couldn’t hold back his smile. “Maybe in but a few winters there’ll never be another enslaved Beast-kin thanks to these.”

Verona sighed and shook her head. “More interested in a piece of metal and wood than his women. How typical of you. Right?”

---[]---

A wave of hot air and the overwhelming clanging of struck metal. The Dwarven forges were even larger and more active than before, especially the experimental forge. No longer was it just a small workshop. Now it was almost as impressive as the old Blood Hammer forge, with many Dwarves working over small workstations with dozens of small tools. While Anton immediately wondered at the cost of such items but any such thoughts were dispelled the moment he saw what they were working on. The Dwarven Smiths were constructing the small pieces of a rifle. Anton stepped closer, Rasha and Cetina stepped to the side as Verona and Kal came through, and he could see that they were busy filing loose and rough sections as well as tiny imperfections.

“They’re going this well already?” Anton said aloud.

The Dwarven Smith’s head twitched. His small hands stopped as she turned to Anton. He wore thick glasses, his eyes greatly magnified.

“My Lord Anton.” The Dwarf smiled. He placed down his small tools. “It is a pleasure to see that you are down here. I-”

“Anton!” Umikgruid ran, running being relative for a Dwarf, towards Anton, waving his hand. “Fantastic that you are here!”

The Dwarven Smith gave a shallow nod and returned to his task.

“What...Oh.” Umikgruid slowed as he approached. “You’re wearing Frindal clothes. That’s...That’s an interesting style of clothes. I can’t say that it’s giving me any particularly good memories.”

“I know.” Anton let his arms drop dramatically. “But I haven’t had time to change out of them yet. They’re surprisingly warm...Not that you need anything down here.”

Kal whimpered, covering her ears. “Why is it even louder than before? It was bad enough the first time.”

Umikgruid smiled as he waved towards several large devices, where most of the noise emanated from. They were essentially large glorified hammers, smashing pieces of metal into flat sheets. Five Dwarven Smiths stood around it, rotating the piece of near golden metal so every place was even. One group removed their sheet and ran their hands over the metal sheet.

“Brass.” Umikgruid continued. “We can’t buy them in sheets, too expensive, so… So we had to buy brass ingots. Much cheaper and arouses much less suspicion. A lot less. Not to mention it's very easy for one or two to... Disappear? You'd never notice if a whole crate was a few lighter than usual."

"That might be an awfully big risk if you want to remain out of scrutiny." Anton said. "I'd much rather just pay for it. We have Balefire up and running. Right?"

"Yes. Currently that's being worked in the main forge." Umikgruid pointed out of the doorway. Though it was a little obscured by the faint smoke and the shimmer of the heat Anton could see Dwarves working with silver ore, even some handling silver ingots. "We already have a small pile ready for you, though most traders are not going to accept silver ingots as payment, no matter who they are."

"I have the perfect people in mind to handle that." Anton smiled. "Might even give Qinos and his family a bit of excuse as to why they've suddenly come into so much wealth. Not to mention they'd want to keep a new silver mine a secret." Anton's smiled faded. "But do be careful when stealing things from The Dwarven Isles. I cannot stress that enough."

Umikgruid smiled as he nodded. "It's fairly easy when your clan is the one doing most of the forging. That's hard work, something they would prefer our Holdless clan to do."

The Dwarven Smith almost chuckled but quickly refocused himself on his work.

"But I, I mean all of us, wish to show you the fruits of our labour. Lady's Verona and Kal have already witnessed one of our attempts. Though unsuccessful, it did hint at the power of what we've built here." Umikgruid waved them to follow as he quickly trotted around the forges. "To think the Dark Elves had it for generations. Just sitting there, in a box for no one to look at."

"A part of me is glad." Anton received an odd look from Umikgruid. "If it wasn't we'd have absolutely no advantages whatsoever. I don't think it would ever be possible to free the Beastkin..."

"It would be difficult if the Seocurian Empire had access to these weapons." Umikgruid continued to lead them towards a newly dug section. "Although...That might not be entirely true."

"How so?" Rasha asked.

"Because the Seocurian's wouldn't make it themselves. They'd get you lot to make it. Not all in one piece, but some of the smarter Beastkin would surely be able to put it together, literally and figuratively."

I wonder if there's a word for that.

Umikgruid could barely contain his excitement when they reached the large, long room. Ten Dwarves stood guard, a great deal many more than those guarding the entrance to the forge. Behind them stood the Master Smith's. They too held Umikgruid's excitement, though they were a little more reserved in how they expressed it.

"Are we ready?" Umikgruid clapped and rubbed his hands together. "Today's the big day."

"We've tested it dozens of times." A Master Smith replied. "We're more than ready."

"So long as it goes better than the first I'll be happy."

Verona mimicked the sound of an explosion, her hands the flying debris.

"Please. This way."

The Dwarves entered the room and stood to the side of something covered in a thick sheet of cloth. Anton smiled, these Dwarves truly wished to show off their work in a dramatic way, not that he really minded. This was something that had not been seen in this world for several thousand years.

"After much tinkering and experimentation." A different Master Smith placed his hand on the cloth. "We now have the first, fully tested Battle Rifle, as we have decided to call it based upon your designs. So..."

The Dwarf ripped the cloth free. Anton felt something stir in his chest. For the first time he was truly looking at something that belonged on Earth, yet it was right in front of him. The Battle Rifle was quite long, longer than the original weapon sitting beside it, and made from a dark metal along with the red marbled black wood from The Shadow Isles. Anton stepped forward, throwing a glance to the Dwarves to check it was safe, and laid his hand upon it. The metal was cold, like ice. Perhaps there was something metaphorical about that but Anton did not give it more thought.

"Incredible work."

Anton pulled the slide back. It was a little tight, nothing that a bit of oil couldn't fix, but still truly incredible considering the time given to develop such a weapon.

"I must ask, does it work?"

A small box next to the rifle was opened. Inside lay dozens of bullets, small steel and bronze implements of death.

"We had a slight issue with the explosive powder." A Dwarf began. He received harsh looks from his colleagues but those faded when he nodded to Verona and Kal, the two who were present for the first test. "But we rectified the issue. The small charge at the base slipped during the bullet's assembly. But we’ve fixed it with a ring of glue, so they charge still activates properly.”

“That was a few interesting tests.” The first Master Smith chuckled. “Very scary when it went off a few moments afterwards.”

“True.” Umikgruid nodded. “So, let’s fire off a few bullets and show them what we’ve managed to make.”

A younger Dwarf, wearing similar clothes to the Masters but not as ornate, moved to the Battle Rifle. The others ushered them out of the room.

“In the unlikely event that something does happen, none of you should be nearby. Especially those carrying babies.”

“We have no intention of having something like that happen.” Verona nervously laughed as she and Kal moved behind the thick stone wall. “We’ve already seen what that thing can do.”

“Only to itself.” A Master Smith laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The ten guards shuffled out of the way for them. While, ostensibly they were just guards they were clearly very interested in what was about to happen.

“Tell me when you want me to begin.” The younger Dwarf yelled out.

Anton peered his head around the corner. Though the Dwarves said it might be dangerous, he still wanted to see it with his own eyes. Just hearing and seeing the aftermath was not sufficient to satisfy his curiosity. None of his women were willing to watch with him, not that he really minded.

“Alright.” The younger Dwarf said loudly. “I’ll start then.”

The Dwarf gently took a bullet from the box and loaded it into the rifle, exactly like Anton remembered it. He brought it to his shoulder and aimed it towards a target pot. Anton felt his blood rush as the Dwarf pulled the trigger. A crack echoed throughout the room, followed immediately by a smashing of pottery onto the ground. A small plume of blue smoke floated out of the barrel.

“It worked.” Anton whispered. He found his fingers trembling in excitement. “It actually worked.”

“Keep going.” Umikgruid said. “Keep going until all of the pots are destroyed.”

The young Dwarf nodded and pulled the lever back, the spent casing flew out and landed on the floor. A dark blue stain covered the slightly buckled edge. While it couldn’t be used again it could definitely be melted back down and reforged, Anton’s mind raced about how to properly collect the spent casings in the middle of battle and the work that would be needed but it was cut short by another gunshot. The young Dwarf continued to fire shot after shot, Anton counted only six seconds between each. While it was nothing compared to some of the more advanced weapons from Earth it was still utterly incredible. Cetina peered around him, Rasha over, and both gasped at what they were witnessing. When all of the pottery targets lay in ruins the young Dwarf placed the Battle Rifle down and stepped back. Anton smiled as he saw that the Dwarves' hands were shaking.

“Incredible.” Anton started to clap. “Absolutely incredible.”

The young Dwarf nodded as he looked at the rifle. “It was… Something else.”

Umikgruid double checked the rifle was empty before waving them forward. Cetina frowned as she tapped the rifle.

“With this you won’t need normal weapons anymore.” She looked at Rasha. “We won’t be needed, at least our training won’t mean much.”

“I remember having this conversation once before.” Verona muttered to Kal. “And what I remember him saying…”

“Of course not.” Anton gave Verona’s cheek a squeeze. “But even I remember us having this before. But I would never not need either of you.”

“I…” Rasha coughed, realising that her face was starting to turn red.

“One day we’ll all be using these.” Anton rested his hand on the rifle. “Which also means my bodyguards will need to have their own...Probably a really big one for Rasha. One that could probably take out a small Dragon in one hit.”

Rasha placed her hand next to Anton’s on the Rifle. “Hmm...I can’t even fit my finger into there. And I suppose I would look a little odd with something so small.”

“Definitely a sniper rifle for Kal.” Anton mused. “Something that benefits her incredible vision.”

Kal merely raised her aqua brow. While he had explained some of Earths’ weapons he simply had yet to go over everything.

“Regardless. This is fantastic work.” Anton patted the rifle again. “How many of these, and the bullets, do you think you can make?”

“The Battle Rifle’s are relatively complicated.” Umikgruid began. “But with everyone working on individual components rather than the whole thing, we can safely make about four or five a day. We use moulds for everything, and file down the components to fit when they’re done. It’s not perfect, you see. Not to mention we need the larger forges to continue making normal weapons and mining equipment.”

Umikgruid received solemn nods from the other Master Smiths. “Digging through this stone is not easy. And the equipment is simply being ground down and broken...Unless you wish to switch everything to making these?”

Anton looked to the broken pots. “No. Keep it as it is. These weapons are far too dangerous to be in the hands of everyone.” He glanced to Kal and Rasha. “Especially with so many Humans and Beast-kin that would love to see the other dead. And these would be the perfect way to do that.”

“So who’s going to use these?” Cetina asked.

“And where.” Kal added. “It might be too dangerous to use these...Anywhere outside of our lands. I don’t think the Old Gods would be able to help us if Seocuria actually got one of these, if a raid failed…”

Verona shuddered. “Imagine if Leo managed to make these? No Centaurs, that’s for sure.”

“For now we’ll use them for defence and with the Lamias.” Anton said. “They lack any significant industry-”

“They did have those metal spears.” Cetina frowned lightly.

“True. But I’m sure that making a metal shaft is much easier than building as something as complicated and precise as this. Surely.” Anton turned to the Dwarves. “Surely it’s much easier to make a metal shaft than this?”

The Dwarves nodded, unsure if it was some sort of bizarre test.

“And helping the Lamia’s will be a perfect place to test these weapons.” Anton chuckled. “There aren’t many Goblins or Ghlotsm that we can use for practice.”

“Jaka?” Verona offered.

“Surdon.” Cetina said. “That has ten thousands...Though Sally said they have a decent metal industry...For Goblins.”

“The less that we antagonise them until we’re ready the better. As for who will use these, I think I can trust you four, but we need many, many more...But not just anyway. One pull of the trigger and any of us could be dead.”

“Eider’s forces would be a good start.” Cetina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. “Since they’re going to be travelling with you and can be properly vetted.”

“Using the Truth Prayer on them would be a good start.” Anton said. “Before they’re accepted. See if they would ever be willing to betray Atros and myself. If they say yes-”

For some reason Verona’s body tensed.

“-Then they’d be denied, and can only join the normal army.”

Rasha lightly stomped her hoof. “Isn’t that...What would the Seocurians call it? Indoc...Indoctrination? I think that’s the word.”

“Where did you learn big words like that?” Anton asked.

Rasha pouted and turn away. “I...I know a few things.”

Anton gently patted her rear, he still found it a little strange that he didn’t have to bend his arm down. “I suppose you might call it that. But I’m not going to tell them how to think, dress or behave. Only that they’re not going to shoot me in the back.”

“It might limit some of our combat potential.” Cetina noted. “But I think it’s a good idea.” She tapped her sword hilt again. “Can they be used in melee? Once all of these bullets have been used then it is a simple piece of metal and wood.”

“We could try putting bayonets on the end.” Anton offered. “Basically a big knife slightly on the end, slightly offset so it doesn’t get hit by the bullets coming out, but I think that still having a sword or a spear would be ideal.”

“I think I would break it if I used it like a club.” Rasha chuckled. “Then Anton would get mad at me for breaking something so precious.”

“I would get very mad.” Anton smiled. “Bullets? What about them?”

“About six hundred, maybe seven hundred on a good day.”

“That’s...That’s even more impressive. Every day… That is very impressive. Make sure that you’re keeping them very well-guarded. I don’t want a single one of these weapons to get out of Atros’s hands.”

“We’re constructing a vault underneath Atros.” Umikgruid began. “Eventually we’ll have a passageway from the centre of Atros, near the Sovereign Palace actually, right into the hold. The...Actually, we’ll have them stored underneath the Sovereign Palace. Since your personal retinue will be living nearby, it’ll be a good place to have it.”

“Excellent idea.” Anton patted Umikgruid’s shoulder. “Keep up the magnificent work. All of you. If you have any further ideas on how to improve production or the quality of these weapons do not hesitate to contact me.”

“Of course.” Umikgruid gave a quick thumbs up to the other Master Smiths. They too looked very happy. “We’ll continue our work with all speed.”

“Excellent… Truly Excellent.” Anton smiled. “I hope to see more things from you. Many more beautiful things. Things that no one in the world has ever seen before.”

---[]---

Anton opened the door to their house. It was still very plain, plain even compared to some of the simple houses of this world, but it still gave him comfort, knowing that he could truly call this place safe.

"It's going to be a lot noisier here soon." Anton said. "Soon there's going to be screaming and the little pitter-patter of tiny baby feet running through these halls."

"I can't wait." Verona giggled. "I definitely want Kal to heal me after I give birth. Sam's looked bad enough-"

"Not to mention your stomach is huge." Kal stopped beside Verona and compared stomach's. "Yours is already twice the size of mine. How many did you put in her?" Kal did not wait and turned to Cetina. "And what about you? You're the only one taking care of him during that whole Frindal journey."

"We didn't have that much privacy." Cetina forced her face to remain calm. "So-"

"Hasn't stopped you before, has it?" Kal stuck out her tongue, Cetina's ears began to turn red, before her ear pricked up.

A hand reached for the dagger on her belt and her head swivelled towards the kitchen.

"Oh. Right." Kal's stance softened. "We told them they could come here."

Verona cleared her throat extremely loudly. She pointed to Kal's boots, specifically the icy mud around the bottom. Kal returned the glare but Verona was already taking hers off, holding onto Anton for support as her stomach was becoming that heavy. Cetina and Anton removed theirs but Rasha stomped nervously. As ever she went barefoot, or barehoof, and couldn't exactly take them off. Thankfully this had already been accounted for. Near the entrance was a small but strong wooden box, beside that a rough brush. Rasha took her seat and began to remove as much as she could. She gave Anton a small smile and a nod, telling him that she would be a few moments. Anton followed Kal as Verona and Cetina began to speak quietly amongst themselves.

"Do you know what they are talking about?" Anton asked Kal. She glanced at his Dragonoid feet, similar yet alien compared to her own, and frowned. "Been a while since I've had these free."

"I honestly have no idea." Kal turned and hugged him tight, sticking her rear out slightly to give her stomach space. "But I'm so glad to have you back. You have no idea how much I missed you."

Anton kissed her, one furiously returned. Neither backed away until they were forced to take a breath.

"You think I'm not lonely? I can't hold my favourite Feline Beastkin."

Kal scoffed, gently running her claws over his face until stopping on his chest. She gave him a light kiss before holding his hand and walking towards their kitchen.

"Like you weren't fucking Cetina and Mezot into oblivion every night."

"Actually there wasn't much privacy-"

"You surely had your morning runs with them though?" Kal squeezed his hand tighter. "I think I'll be joining you two, three actually, once this baby is born."

"I don't think I'd get back until midday if you did."

Kal giggled. "Though I shouldn't intrude on Cetina's territory. For someone that said she was only going to sleep with you every other day or so... Well. That didn't last. Did it?"

Anton gave her rear a hard squeeze as they entered their kitchen. Though Anton had not been in his own house much it was surprisingly well furnished and equipped. Metal pots and pans hung from the walls, along with a selection of simple knives, forks and spoons. Despite how proud Anton was of Atros's development they were too well made for their human forges, especially when quantity was needed first and foremost.

Axia, wearing her Principle Mage clothes, stood before an open cabinet, holding a finger to her mouth as she looked between the many preserved meats and hardy vegetables on display. Mezot and Zuhura stood before a kitchen counter. Mezot wore her Mage attire, with an extra coat, while Zuhura continued to wear her bright blue shawl and headscarf. She no longer wore her veil but otherwise she had not changed anything. Mezot stared intently as Zuhura delicately sliced a slab of preserved meat, with some cheese already cut to the side. Though the cutlery was not the best Zuhura had no trouble. Even more remarkable, she was not put off by Mezot silently staring at the food.

"She worked for Sultan Hazm." Anton said, unsure if Kal was thinking the same thing. "So Mezot's nothing compared to a man like him."

"Hazm never touched me." Zuhura spoke as she continued to cut. "Though I think it has less to do with what could happen to him, politically, if he tried to touch me, and far more to do with the sheer number of knives we had around us."

"An incredible deterrent." Anton slowly nodded and pushed Kal inside. Axia turned away from her perusing and he eyes locked onto Anton's hand on Kal's. She sniggered but said nothing else. "I'm sorry if it's not what you are used to-"

"It's quite good." Zuhura moved the cut pieces of meat onto a thin wooden tray, along with an assortment of food. "Considering the state of Atros's wealth...Though I will say I was surprised to see so many things from Bebbezzar here."

Zuhura ran her finger along the handle of the blade. "Do you have one of those portals in every country?"

"Not all of them, but some. And it's growing at an appreciable rate too."

"I see..." Zuhura looked over his shoulder. "Is Cetina going to join us?"

"Right now she's talking with Verona about something." Anton nodded back down the hallway. "She'll be along shortly. Is there something you need?"

Zuhura remained silent for a moment. "During our journey through the Frindal deserts I learned that she has some experience with finance, bartering and haggling."

"Her father was a merchant." Kal said. "But he is no longer..."

"I thought so. When I asked where she had learnt such things... Regardless, I wished to speak to her about your finances. It seems that it is a very urgent matter."

"Mine?"

Zuhura nodded sternly. "You appear to have no monetary system in Atros, everything is distributed as it is available and required, yet you have access to a vast amount of wealth."

"Not that big anymore." Kal sighed, resting her cheek on her hand. "My husband has a tendency to give away money freely."

"A bag of gold coins for Cetina." Anton laughed. “Pretty expensive for what we got, if I’m honest.”

"I heard that!" Cetina yelled down the hallway.

Kal and Axia began to giggle, Mezot had not noticed as her attention lay squarely on the food, while Zuhura appeared decidedly lost and more than a little embarrassed.

"It's fine." Anton tried to wave down her concern. "But that would be something extremely useful to me."

Zuhura faintly smiled. "Then, with your permission, I would like to take stock of what you have in terms of monetary options."

"Umm..."

"How much gold, silver and copper coinage you have. In addition to any more gemstones that you happen to have lying around. And all of your economic records and administration."

"That reminds me..." Anton looked down the hall to Rasha. She had finished cleaning her hooves and slowly walked towards them. Annoyingly she had to duck so her horn did not strike the roof. Once they moved to their new home it shouldn't be an issue. "We need to see about freeing those Oni's and securing what gemstones we can."

"What's that?" Rasha asked as she leant over Anton.

Zuhura's body tensed as she looked up to Rasha. Though she wore metal armour, it was more than obvious just how strong she was.

"Unfortunately." Zuhura rested a hand on her chest. Anton caught Axia staring hateful daggers at just how little the cloth actually moved. "You cannot survive by raiding for supplies and wealth. Eventually it will become simply too much for you to manage. Not to mention that your current system of centralised control and distribution will require an extensive administration just to control your city, which is fraught with dangers and corruption. At a point you must move to a monetary based economy and allow private industry and commerce, otherwise you will be spending most of your time trying to control everything, time and energy that could be better spent elsewhere."

"Where..." Kal glanced at Anton. "Where did you learn that? Because it sounds suspiciously similar to something I’ve heard before."

Anton understood what she implied, as did Kal and Rasha, Mezot was only just joining the conversation, but Zuhura looked confused once again.

"I was thoroughly educated when I was with my Tribe and during my time with Sultan Hazm." Zuhura slightly puffed out her chest in pride. "I believe I did very well in my studies. And I’m sure that if you were to ask Sultan Hazm and the other women of his palace they would say the same thing. Not that I have a great desire to return."

"Tomorrow we'll start looking at those things." Anton heard Verona and Cetina approaching. "But right now it's time for a bit of relaxation."

---[]---

Anton savoured the taste of cold beer on his tongue, a strong aroma of hops followed each drop but it somehow only made it better. Verona and Kal drank water, the thought of drinking alcohol when they were pregnant never entered their thoughts, while Cetina and Mezot drank too. Mezot was not a big drinker and Cetina was still a little wary of finding liquor too enjoyable. Rasha, sitting at the end of the table on her specially reinforced chair, watched on with envy as she drank water and nibbled at some of the food. Anton did not wish to even imagine the pain she would face if she drank something so gaseous.

Perhaps some of Zac's moonshine vodka would be alright? We haven't got around to making that stuff...Perhaps we could sell it in Bebbezzar cheaply? Though it wouldn't compare to Balefire's silver-

"Anton?"

Zuhura's gentle voice brought him out of his mental wanderings.

"Sorry, Zuhura. You were saying?"

Zuhura raised a small plate of cut meat slices, the same that she had been preparing earlier.

"Ah. Thank you." Anton took a slice. "Thank you. My mind can wander at the most inappropriate of times."

"I've noticed." Zuhura said dryly, yet her lips betrayed a faint smile.

"Zuhura?" Verona gently waved her hand. "You don't need to act like a servant, especially with us. You can sit down with us and enjoy something to drink."

Verona eagerly patted an empty chair. Kal, Anton and Cetina shared a knowing look.

"I'm alright." Zuhura smiled. "Unlike... Unlike everyone else here I am no fighter, warrior, Mage or anything even remotely capable in combat. I probably wouldn't even be able to use the knife that you gave me. Thankfully I never had to use it."

Verona nodded. "Right. But it still feels like you're our servant."

"I really don't see-"

"Please have a seat, Zuhura." Anton rested his near empty mug onto the table. "You've been nonstop all day. It's alright just to sit with us for a few moments."

Zuhura glanced at her wooden tray and frowned. It quickly disappeared, replaced with a warm, albeit slightly forced smile.

"Very well." Zuhura swiftly walked to the empty chair. "I guess some of my teachings have stayed with me, even though it is no longer applicable."

Zuhura placed the tray down and took her seat. Verona waited until she was comfortable before sliding a mug of cold beer into her hands.

"I don't-"

"Yes you do. Unless you're pregnant."

"If someone were to get me pregnant they would need to marry into my Tribe. Or beg my father for forgiveness and offer an appropriate recompense."

"If it was the man's weight in gold then I'm sure Hazm would have been terrified." Anton said.

Zuhura giggled, her face contorted as she tried to fight back the smile and laughter. The fact that everyone else merely smiled, even Mezot, made it that much sweeter.

"So." Verona clapped her hands. "A bit of an update on the sleeping arrangements. Mezot. You have a room here now, if you want it, though I think that you may want to stay with your daughter some nights."

"It's fine." Axia smiled at her mother. "It's okay if-"

"But I want to spend time with you." Mezot spoke with a rare amount of determination. "Unless there is an issue with that."

"N-No." Axia blinked hard. "No there isn't. That's... That's fine." She threw Anton a quick smile before returning to her drink.

"I..." Verona smiled. "Right then. In that case, Zuhura, I think it would be best if you took Cetina's old house. It's right across the street and it's quite large."

"For Atros." Cetina quickly added. “Large for Atros.” She smiled and turned to Verona. "You know what's happened to everyone that lived there?"

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it." Anton smiled. "But it will be a good place for you to live. We can get you thicker blankets if you need them, and even a small fireplace if you want. It won't be too large, as things are rather stretched at the moment."

“That is more than enough.” Zuhura smiled. “The deserts get very cold too, though not as bad as it is here I feel. So I know how to handle it.”

“We’ll still make sure you have something extra.” Anton said. “I mean, the clothes that you wear underneath the shawl are actually pretty warm, if what Mezot and Cetina said was true.”

Zuhura blinked as her face slowly turned into a frown.

“I mean wearing multiple layers...It stops the cold air from seeping through.”

“Yes!” Zuhura blinked, pushing her hand against her shirt. “Yes...That is...Yes.”

Verona threw Anton a raised brow.

Is she...Is she honestly saying that she’s only wearing the shawl? Nothing underneath? She’s been naked during the whole time in Frindal and longer? Surely not...That doesn’t fit her face, but sometimes the most calm and dignified people can hide a secret.

The others at the table were slowly coming to the same conclusion. Zuhura grew increasingly distressed at the stares, only serving to confirm their suspicion.

“Should you need anything,” Anton spoke loudly, to draw attention away from a thankful Zuhura. “Do not hesitate to ask. Though we are poor, as you say, we are not completely destitute, nor are going to make anyone suffer through the cold.”

“Thank you.” Zuhura bowed her head.

“But make sure you don’t turn up straight at dawn.” Verona nudged Zuhura’s side. “Otherwise you might be waiting for a while.”

Zuhura’s eyes narrowed at Anton. “I see. That will not be an issue. Hazm usually did not get out of bed until very late.”

Verona chuckled. “Yes...That’s what I meant.”

Anton raised his hand to stop Verona. “I think it’ll still be a few days before Wilford arrives in the Holy Kingsland. So...We have some time to ourselves. To relax and properly enjoy our time in Atros. Something I’ve been meaning to do for quite some time. Actually spend time in the city that I’m helping to build.”

“Finally.” Kal smiled. She raised her mug, everyone else followed. “And...And let us hope that we have many more winters in Atros like this.” She tenderly held her stomach. “With many more friends and family to come.”

Anton downed all of the drink, wondering what it would be like that many have children running around. Judging by the increasing number of women in his harem it would be many. He just hoped that he would be a good father. He was certain he would be.

Volume 05 - Chapter 60 - (Interlude) - Seocuria Stirs

Adara awoke to the distant murmur of Beast-kin working on the Danafran docks. The Beast-kin began work well before dawn and today was no different. During winter Seocuria only dropped slightly in temperature, the faintly cool air felt extremely pleasant against her skin as it flowed through the large open window. She rolled to one side, praying to any god that would listen, that she could have the day off. But she knew it was never to be.

“Another day.” Adara ran a hand through her loose hair. “I really need a day off.”

“You had one recently.” A deep voice whispered, hot breath tickling her ear. “And without you the Slave House would completely collapse in a matter of days.”

“I don’t know about that.” Adara sighed, turning towards the voice. “But I’d like to think so.”

Adara shared her bed with Acqwon. He wasn’t a Seocurian, rather a tamed male Minotaur Beast-kin, one of the best from the Pleasure Houses. Normally he would have been sold to some degenerate woman, perhaps someone from Bebbezzar or Graterious seeking an exotic thrill, but Adara had been smitten the moment she laid eyes upon him; his large muscles, perfectly smooth grey coat and certain other aspects.

“Can’t you do my job for today?” Adara asked.

Acqwon gently stroked her hair, his large powerful fingers easily brushing her hair aside. He, like many Beast-kin, could easily kill her, especially in her current defenceless and vulnerable form. Acqwon had never raised his hand in anger towards her, the Pleasure Houses wouldn’t be in business if they couldn’t train a Beast-kin properly.

“Do you think they’ll listen to me?” Acqwon laughed, Adara felt his body rumble through the soft bed. “Maybe they would…They’d know that things can actually get better.”

Adara rolled over and scratched his powerful chest. “I suppose that I’d better get up.”

Adara threw the plush covers away, they alone were worth more than several slaves, and moved to the open window to watch the people, and Beast-kin, working outside. Most windows in Danafra, and in most of Seocuria, were open and designed to allow the hot air out during the night. Of course not those in the buildings containing slaves. Those had metal or wooden bars, not that the Beast-kin would be foolish enough to try and escape.

She watched the docks from her high vantage point, quietly humming and twiddling her rear, watching the Beast-kin and their masters begin the busy day. She cared not if they saw her naked. What could they possibly do? Down below she saw some young Seocurians stare and gawk. She blew them a kiss as the boys laughed and jeered.

“Where’s Zhaire?” Acqwon asked. Unfortunately he was already wearing his pants when Adara looked back, such a shame. His chest was still exposed.

“I’m sure he’s just sleeping in.” Adara raised her hands and stretched her chest out. She closed her eyes but she knew that Acqwon was staring with desire.

“What slave is allowed to have a sleep in?” Acqwon roughly rubbed his curled horns, removing a layer of dried skin. “Besides, you know what he really wants.”

“He’s so much cuter that way.” Adara ran a hand over her toned body. “Knowing he never will and that you do every night.”

Acqwon smiled and put on his shirt. Unlike most slaves his was of decent quality, not as much as a normal Seocurian citizen but it put him leagues above the others.

“Do you want me to dress you or do want me to find Zhaire?”

“I’ll let Zhaire.” Adara smiled devilishly. “I love to watch him struggle.”

Acqwon walked to the door, his hooves clacking on the hard wooden floor, when it flew open. A sheep Beast-kin, a young boy, dashed through. Zhaire had been bought at the same time as Acqwon, a young and extremely nervous Beast-kin that Adara took pity on, with the change left over from Acqwon’s purchase. Adara was drawn to his nervous disposition, and most importantly, an extremely thick and fluffy white coat. Like Acqwon his feet weren’t humanoid nor were they a solid hoof, rather four large toes, but he still had normal fingers.

“Sorry I’m late.” He bowed his head, his forehead touching the bundle of clothes in his hands. “I thought someone had brought these in from the other day.”

Acqwon shrugged and refused to apologise. He often picked on Zhaire, but the little sheep never stood up for himself. He did once but that ended very badly for him. He couldn’t walk for days…

“Doesn’t matter.” Adara sighed. “The Seocurian leaders are having another meeting.”

“The plantation that was attacked?” Acqwon asked.

Zhaire placed the clothes on the bed and held out Adara’s underwear, a very thin white set of silken panties and brassier.

“How do you know about that?” Adara asked slyly. “No one should know about that.”

“The brute is sticking his head into places it doesn’t belong.” Zhaire grumbled.

“And where you aren’t allowed.” Acqwon sat on the bed. “Isn’t that right?”

Zhaire ignored the jab and slowly dressed Adara, taking his time to brush his fingers against her skin. Adara smiled as he received he indulged himself, the little that he could.

“But it is serious.” Adara raised her arms as Zhaire dragged a small stool so he could reach over her head. “They’re nervous. Very nervous.”

Acqwon scoffed. “Just like when winter came four days too early? Those fools are far too jumpy.”

The room fell silent as Zhaire finished dressing Adara. The dress he had chosen was, as ever, perfect for her mood; a low cut bright orange dress with a bright red flower mounted on her shoulder. Adara breathed deep the sweet nectar.

“This is just what I needed.” Adara turned to Zhaire, the young Beast-kin smiling warmly. “Thank you.”

Adara kissed his cheek lightly and hugged the Beast-kin tight. Zhaire flinched but quickly returned the hold.

Reward and punishment. That’s how you tame beasts…Then they’ll do whatever you want.

“Thank you.” Zhaire’s exposed skin turned red. “I thought of you when I picked the flower.”

“Stop teasing him.” Acqwon rose from the bed. “You’re making me embarrassed.”

Zhaire stuck out his tongue, Acqwon closed his eyes and shook his head.

“So how did you know about the plantation?” Adara gently stroked Zhaire’s soft and fluffy white fur, his main duty when he was with Adara.

“You told me about it?” Acqwon raised a bushy brow.

Adara played coy and innocent. The memories came flooding back, several days ago, during her post-coital bliss she had spoken with Acqwon about several things that were troubling her at work, perhaps to get some advice or simply just talk with someone to get it off her chest. He listened intently and offered his thoughts, not that he had much choice. Not if he wanted his supply of drugs cut off.

“Whatever.” Adara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. Soon everyone will know about it anyway.”

“Bandits?” Zhaire asked.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Bandits wouldn’t kill every Seocurian and disappear the Beast-kin slaves.” Acqwon added.

Adara nodded, gently holding her chin. “Something is happening. Something tells me this will be big. But that’s beyond my concerns right now. I need to head to work. Another large shipment of slaves is heading out and I need to make sure everything moves easily.”

Adara checked both for any signs of anger or resentment at their treatment of their fellow Beast-kin. She didn’t know if they could keep it well hidden or it was the drugs but they kept their faces flat and devoid of any new emotion.

“But breakfast first.” Adara clapped her hands. “Zhaire, tell me what treats you have cooked up for us today.”

---[]---

With their stomachs filled they left their home and began walking towards the central Slave House, the giant dome looming over Danafra. She wasn’t concerned about someone breaking into their house, not only were thieves and criminals treated extremely harshly in Seocuria her home was protected by a small contingent of Danafran Guards, protecting not only her home but a number of dignitaries and other important Seocurians. Adara swore she saw a Graterian ambassador enjoying his time with a Rabbit Beast-kin, uncaring they were screaming out of an open window.

“Mistress.” Zhaire reached out for her hand, unwilling to make the final move to actually touch her. “Please? My head is killing me.”

“What’s wrong?” Adara knew perfectly well what was happening.

Zhaire began to pound his head, the other hand scratching at his chest. “I haven’t had any pills since two days ago. I’m going crazy without them.”

“But you were fine during breakfast.” Adara led them away from the street to a disused alleyway. “Surely you can wait until tonight.”

Acqwon scoffed. However Adara knew the truth. He was enduring much, much worse. Only his mental strength kept him from clawing at his head. His muscles twitched as he watched Zhaire’s mind-splitting headache grow to immobilise the young Beast-kin.

“Please, Mistress.” Zhaire’s voice was little more than a whimper.

“Fine.” Adara reached into a small pocket of her dress and produced a small pink pill.

Zhaire’s eyes bulged at the sight. He shuffled forward, the pain in his mind evaporated instantly, and reached for the pill. Adara snapped it away. The look of loss on his face was utterly divine.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Adara pulled Zhaire closer, the small Beast-kin fell utterly limp, and against her leg. He was extremely excited, not that he could do much after she had lain with Acqwon every night for many winters, but Adara found his desperation intoxicating. She opened his mouth and rammed the pill down his throat before throwing him back. Zhaire grunted as he skidded along the dirty ground, his white coat stained by the dirt, as he desperately chewed the pill.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Adara giggled sweetly, pulling Zhaire up and brushing away the dirt and dust. “You just look so cute when you beg.”

Zhaire’s previous cute and joyful self had completely vanished. Now he was nothing more than a crazed drug addict, his eyes red and crazed, his limbs trembling while he licked his lips.

“Forgive me, Mistress.” Zhaire shook his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Came over you?” Adara kissed his forehead again. Zhaire’s trembling body calmed as the redness faded from his eyes. This was the most physical attention he had received in one day for a long time. “My white fluffy boy, I was the mean one. You are still my favourite fluffy toy.”

But nowhere near as stimulating as the other one.

Adara brought Zhaire into a hug, he took considerable effort not to grab her rear, while she looked to Acqwon. The Minotaur Beast-kin’s eyes and lips trembled, not out of jealousy but from withdrawal.

“Since Zhaire is so much more honest I think that you can wait until tonight before receiving yours.” Adara broke from Zhaire. “Unless you’re willing to grovel before us.”

“Us?” Zhaire asked softly.

Adara nodded. “Us. Zhaire was honest, like he always is. So I think that it might be your turn to be nicer. And more...Obedient.”

Acqwon’s eye twitched but he still dropped to one knee. Adara winked at Zhaire as she gave him the small pink pill. Zhaire smiled at Acqwon, knowing that, for once, that he held all the power.

“Here you go.” Zhaire passed Acqwon the pink pill.

“T...Thanks.” Acqwon frowned. “Of…”

“We’re friends. Right?”

Acqwon raised a brow. “I guess…”

Well, I suppose that works. Maybe I should be a little nicer to him. Maybe give him a kiss before I take Acqwon to bed. I’m sure he’d love that.

Acqwon’s eyes flicked away from Zhaire and to something behind Adara. Zhaire looked and shied away. When she looked behind her a chill ran through her blood. Thirty heavily armed Seocurian soldiers, armed far better than the Danafran Guards, approached her with a speed reserved for criminals.

“What’s happening?” Zhaire shied behind Acqwon.

“Lady Adara.” The lead soldier stopped but a few feet away. Acqwon was ready to attack but it would be utterly suicidal for him to act without an explicit order from her. The Seocurians could never allow a Beast-kin to strike a guard without severe punishment.

“Yes?” Adara was completely defenceless and her dress severely limited her movement, not that she could outrun them. Or their arrows.

“The Oligarchs wish to speak with you immediately.” The soldier glanced at her Beast-kin. “There has been another incident.”

“How bad is it that they have involved me?”

“Multiple times worse.” The soldier rotated his shoulder. “I’ve been ordered to bring you immediately. Your servants-”

“I understand.” Adara turned to her Beast-kin. “Return home. I don’t know when I will be done with this.”

Acqwon and Zhaire glanced at one another, bowed and left. Adara grumbled as she watched her two favourite Beast-kin walked away.

“Lead on.”

---[]---

Adara felt rather…out of place in the open air meeting on top of the second largest building in Danafra. The others attending the meeting, leaders of the Seocurian Empire were very old, doubly so compared to her and Adara wasn’t that young. Despite their age they did not appear dim and riddle with senility, at least yet. Unfortunately she was the youngest and wore the least clothing, something that the other men made painfully obvious.

“May I ask why I am here?” Adara asked.

A Seocurian servant pulled out a seat for her. Obviously they wouldn’t have Beast-kin present, not with something so sensitive.

“As the manager of the Danfran Slave House we thought you might have a perspective on this event.” An older man began. “We are rather lost at the moment.”

“I still don’t know why you brought me specifically.” Adara placed her hands in her lap. “I’m sure there is someone more qualified.”

For most of her life Adara avoided the rivalries between the families. She wasn’t the wealthiest person present; she was still alive, more than could be said of the many, many pawns in their plays and games.

“You were asked for specifically.” A woman drew deeply on a long thin pipe, blowing the grey-blue smoke only to be whisked away by the light breeze. “Your time will be compensated for more than adequately.”

“Since we are almost all assembled-”

“We’re still missing one.” The woman motioned to an empty chair.

“He was the one to call this meeting.” Another man shrugged lightly. “He already understands what is happening. I have only just received the report from our scouts. So...” His eyes scanned those present and the servants waiting patiently to the side along with the guards. “Leave us.”

Without protest they bowed and left. The man waited until they had left before speaking again.

“This second attack is almost identical to the first.” He produced a small piece of paper, worn and wrinkled from travel. “Every Seocurian was killed, the buildings burned and the Beast-kin slaves missing. Every single one.”

“Any sign of where they went?” The first woman asked, again drawing on the long pipe. How she wasn’t coughing and spluttering after smoking so much was a mystery. Adara spied her neck muscles twinging to fight down the urge. “A few hundred slaves cannot just disappear without leaving tracks.”

“Nothing.” The man frowned. “That’s not exactly true. The scouts found trails leading to and from the plantations from a single point to the nearby forests. However, they completely disappear after that. There have been no signs of the carts or caravans necessary to carry that many…For whatever purpose they’re taking the Beast-kin slaves.”

“Why?” Adara frowned. “If they wanted slaves they could simply buy them. I know of many that are extremely cheap.”

“Exactly.” The man smiled, a momentary glance to Adara’s chest. “That’s why it’s so confusing. There are magical rituals that require sacrifices but it would be far, far cheaper to buy a dying slave.”

“What’s the connection between the two attacks?” Adara asked.

“The plantations are all owned by different people.” The man tapped the paper. “Nothing remarkable about them.”

“Except their remoteness.” A calm voice spoke from behind Adara.

A Seocurian man, wearing light armour and short Adamantium blade, joined their meeting. The Seocurian man, an older man with a rare greying of his black hair, carried himself with a bearing that befitted his modest yet regal appearance. Adara’s eyes fell upon the white metal sword on his hips. Adamantium. The blade alone was worth more than everything Adara owned.

“Their remoteness, not truly geographical, but to other cities, and potential reinforcements, is the only thing that connects them.”

As he moved towards the empty chair two Seocurian women emerged. They were soldiers, at least for ceremonial purposes. At least Adara hoped they were ceremonial; the Seocurian women only had armour to cover their chest and shoulders. Admittedly it was made from Bosciycium but everything else lay unprotected, especially their legs. Their short red dress was barely long enough to cover their rears, beneath that were a pair of strong, toned legs. Their long hair was kept in a long ponytail, immaculately cut and maintained to an identical length. Two Bosciycium short swords hanged from their hips along with six small daggers attached to a thin white strap on the upper left thigh.

What are these for? Intimidation? Distraction perhaps? It appears to be working for half of those present. More than half.

The man took his seat, the two women flanked him, keeping their faces perfectly flat.

"Both sites are almost a day away from any sort of significant reinforcements." The new man smiled and took the small piece of paper. "So long as the maps are accurate. And none of you have built some sort of hidden base. Yes?"

“Rafiki.” The man snatched the paper back. “If you wanted to have us all gather for this meeting I suggest that you should be punctual. If anything you should be here first.”

He nodded to the two women. “And who are they? Another of your tamed creations?”

Rafiki smiled, not sparing a glance back. “Of course. But I didn’t need drugs or whips for them.” He leant back into his chair. “They just needed some convincing.”

Adara checked their exposed body for any sign of extensive beatings of whippings. Some of the more volatile and effective drugs left marks, boils and scars in certain areas, but Adara found none. Did Rafiki mean sexual dominance? She found that quite preposterous. More than likely it was money…Or brainwashing and indoctrination from birth.

“I was delayed.” Rafiki laughed. “Not with these two, no. Some other work. But I am concerned with these attacks.”

“Still,” The first man shuffled. “Still, it’s not even a thousand Beast-kin slaves. We won’t even notice it.”

Rafiki scoffed. “You say that now…Do you have any ideas? Any idea of who’s doing this?”

I still don’t know why I’m here.

“No? Of course you don’t.” Rafiki snapped his fingers, one of the guard women produced a small cloth package from somewhere. “But I do. I wouldn’t have bothered you all if I hadn’t.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” A second woman chuckled. “When you lost your precious Feline Beast-kin.” She leant forward, smirking, uncaring that Rafiki and her two guards were the only people present with weapons. “For days you moaned and groaned to me about losing her.”

Rafiki tapped the small bundle of cloth. His face remained flat until it burst into a smile, one incredibly forced.

“I remember her…” Rafiki smiled. “Oh Marion, what sweet cries you made. But.” Rafiki clapped his hands. “That is in the past now.”

Rafiki glanced at Adara.

“I haven’t had a chance to catch up with you, Adara. I heard that she finally sold?”

“Yes.” Adara forced herself to remain calm. “Sold for a significant sum, especially for an older-”

“Can we please focus on the point of this meeting” The woman exhaled another burst of smoke. “Reminisce on your past conquests on your own time. Don’t waste ours.”

Rafiki pursed his lips before nodding once. “You’re right. We have time for reminiscing later.” Rafiki opened the cloth bundle. Whatever it was it was very small, but Rafiki held back from completely revealing the object.

“The people that launch these attacks are extremely good.” Rafiki smiled. “They leave almost no trace, and yet they can move hundreds of Beast-kin and their own forces without being seen. Or tracked. And since the reformists have been killed, I doubt it’s a Seocurian. In fact, it’s not a human.”

“Beast-kin bandits?” The second woman asked.

“If only.” Rafiki flicked away the last fold of cloth. “Then it would make a lot more sense. More than this.”

Rafiki held a small iron arrow head. It wasn’t one of theirs, nor any Kingdom or Empire that she knew of, not even from the Holy Kingsland or the Xiam Dynasty.

“This.” Rafiki spun the piece of metal. “This is a Dark Elf arrow head. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know. Those long eared bastards almost never leave their mist wrapped isles. Until very recently that is.”

“So it’s the Dark Elves!” The first man thumped the table, no one voiced their agreement. “No? They don’t exactly like outsiders.”

“True.” Rafiki tossed the arrow head at the man. “But they have started trading with Bebbezzar and even our most western ports. Only small vessels for now but we’re seeing decent trade with them. But I do not believe it’s them. Not entirely.”

The smoking woman gnawed lightly on her pipe. “What reason do they have to attack our plantations and our people?”

“None. Not even their most rebellious and vicious pirate clan, the Green Moon, have the desire or strength to attack us.” Rafiki shrugged. “Besides, no seafaring pirate would raid so far inland. Doubly so when everything of value, apart from the slaves, was left behind and burned.”

“We’re still no further to the truth of the matter than before.” Someone grumbled.

And I still don’t know why I’m here.

“Despite what I’ve said I don’t think the Dark Elves are the cause of this. No. Something, someone, is using the Dark Elves as soldiers or mercenaries.”

“And yet you managed to find an arrowhead?” The first woman raised a brow. “I remember that he Dark Elves were always extremely cautious and extremely skilled, in all things. Surely this is not just an attempt to lure is in the wrong direction?”

Rafiki nodded. “Of course that is a possibility. However, there is a limit to what we can see with our own eyes, simply because there we have only so long to live. There are times that we have to take things as a matter of faith. I have faith that you all have some measure of wealth, even though I have never seen your gold or jewels. Nor can I really be certain that you actually own anything. I could be wrong, but I have to have that faith...Anyway. Please believe me that the Dark Elves were involved in this attack.”

“So where did you find this?” The first man held the arrow head aloft. “It looks burnt.”

“It was concealed underneath a burnt beam,” Rafiki took a deep breath. “Hidden underneath a young child’s corpse. They had been burnt alive, along with the rest of their family.”

“That…” Adara quickly trailed off.

“Is disgusting.” Rafiki nodded. “Tell me, Adara, have the Beast-kin been acting oddly in the past few days? Defiance...Or overly compliant?”

“Too much?” Adara tilted her head and squinted her eyes slightly.

“If they become too obedient it might be a sign they are ready to rebel. Or...Whatever these attackers are doing to them.”

Adara cast her mind back to her two pets. They had been quite friendly, all things considered, but nothing was amiss there. She knew Rafiki spoke of her work but nothing had changed there either.

“Nothing that I can think of.”

“I see…That is a shame. At least we would have a few more clues than just a burnt Dark Elf arrow head.”

Is that it?! Just for a single question? Perhaps I should be grateful and just keep my mouth shut.

“Perhaps they left it there.” The first man placed it onto the table. “As we just said, a lure, of sorts.”

“Perhaps.” Rafiki slowly nodded. “I have no way of disproving that. But you have to admit that it is a very unlikely reason. It would make more sense for it to be from a Dark Elf that didn’t recover all of their arrows. Imagine if you were this Dark Elf.” Rafiki crossed his legs and leant back into his chair. “You’re a part of whatever group has done this, for whatever reason. They have gone to great lengths to cover their tracks and pick plantations that are remote and far from most support. You attack, everything goes well, you recover your arrows and torch the place.”

“Right…”

“Then you get home and you realise an arrow is completely unaccounted for.” Rafiki smiled and leant forward. “What would you do? Would you tell the people organising this whole thing and risk their ire? Or would you just forget that you were missing an arrow? I know which one I would do.”

“You would tell them?”

Rafiki scoffed. “Of course not, you old fool. And anyone that says they would is an idiot or a liar. No one would admit to such a thing.”

The second woman drew on her pipe again. “Your little story is wonderful, Rafiki. I can see that your father’s lessons finally paid off.”

Rafiki smirked in silence.

“But we are still no closer to a solution.”

“I’ve had a list of probable sites where these people will hit next.”

Rafiki’s other bodyguard brought out a large map of the Seocurian Empire. Five areas had been marked.

“Judging by the distance from known fortresses and military basses, one of these five areas will be the next target. Of course they could simply hit a smaller plantation just to make a liar out of me but I believe it’ll be one of these five.”

“And how can you be so sure?” A third Seocurian man asked.

Rafiki rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just pulling all of this out of my arse. But I’m the only one with a plan. What? When one of you found out the Dark Elves were involved somehow, which you would have eventually, you would have launched a full invasion?”

Several of the leaders looked away in shame. Rafiki grunted and dramatically folded his arms.

“Honestly.”

“Do you think Danafra is a target?” Adara asked softly. “We have many, many slaves. And should Danafra burn…”

“The Seocurian Empire would continue on. Albeit slightly diminished.” Rafiki smiled as he overlooked the city. “Perhaps it’s time for it to be rebuilt. I see so much shoddy construction work…”

“Surely you jest.” Adara forced a laugh. “We lost so many slaves and people during the riots.”

“Who said I was joking?”

A silence filled the air.

Rafiki folded the cloth and passed it back to his guards.

“I will send my soldiers to these locations to bolster the local defences. Given the lack of dead attackers we will need to send in large numbers, bolstered by Mages. Perhaps even mercenaries from the Deweth Clansmen.”

“That’s expensive.” The first man said.

Rafiki smiled. “It won’t be just me, of course. No. The rest of you will be contributing.”

The grumbles of discontent quickly grew. Rafiki raised his hand.

“And should anyone not contribute I’ll kill them, their family and take everything they have. Or do you all think it is fair that I take on this unknown enemy by myself?”

No one refused. Each in turn offered their support. Adara noticed that the guards took careful note of their body language as they spoke.

Adara shuffled as the attention fell on her. “The Danafran Slave House has numerous guards but not enough to meaningfully contribute without leaving the Slave Houses undefended.”

“I wouldn’t dream about asking for that.” Rafiki smiled warmly. “Your guards are ideal for ensuring the Beast-kin’s compliance. Taking them away would cause severe issues. And alert the Beast-kin that something’s wrong. They’ll hear about this eventually, especially if there are more attacks.”

Adara returned a single nod.

Rafiki clapped his hands. “That’s all that we can do right now. Regarding the attacks on our plantations.” Rafiki smiled devilishly. “But there is something else that I would like to discuss. After you have assigned your forces. Don’t move everyone to these locations, I suspect that they simply won’t attack if they see a massive army waiting nearby. I know I wouldn’t.”

“And this thing is?”

“Later.” Rafiki lent back. “But, by all means, have something to drink before you return. I wish to discuss something with Adara. And I’d prefer it without interruptions.”

The other leaders shared a glance and rose from their chairs. Some looked for their assistants, quickly realising they were alone, grumbled and moved to the door. Rafiki ensured that Adara didn’t rise, not that she was about to.

“Is it wise ordering them about like that?” Adara waited until everyone was gone before speaking. “You aren’t the ruler of the Seocurian Empire. Technically, no one is.”

Rafiki laughed, his lips curled up in an honest smile. “Perhaps. But they still listened. Didn’t they?”

“How may I assist you, Lord Rafiki?”

“I am curious to hear that Marion sold.” Rafiki’s eyebrows furrowed as he rested his hands on the table, idly playing with the small bundle of cloth. “Why was she sent to the Pleasure House?”

Adara knew she had to choose her words very carefully. “She attacked a guard, injured him quite severely. There was no way that she could be allowed to go free after that.”

Rafiki remained perfectly silent, his eyes only focused on the cloth in his hands.

“We could not show favouritism. Especially considering that I didn’t know that you…still had your eye on here.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Rafiki tossed the cloth to the guards. Only one moved to snatch it from the air, her movements were not natural even for a trained soldier. “She was effectively useless to me after losing Kal. Her…Our, half-breed daughter. She couldn’t have another, no matter what we tried, so I lost interest. Still, I do grow…What’s the right word? Wistful? About her. I’m not sure. So who bought her?”

“A Graterian man. He had three women with him; a Silver Eagle Clanswoman, a Bebbezzarian and a woman wearing a mask. Couldn’t see any of her skin but I could tell that she was a woman.”

“So how much did my precious Marion sell for?”

“Sixty seven gold coins.”

Rafiki coughed at the price, the two guards showed the first sign of emotion, just a moment of surprise.

“Sixty seven? Wow. Who knew she still had it in her.” Rafiki smiled. “Such a shame. If I’d known…”

A silence filled the air. Adara didn’t like the silence, it felt like something was building within the man, something that she didn’t want to be the target of.

“They also bought another two Minotaurs during the same sale. In fact…They were either side of her.” Adara shrugged as Rafiki raised a brow. “Didn’t think much of it at the time. I received a nice commission out of those sales.”

“If they were anything like Marion’s price then I bet you did.” Rafiki smiled. “You probably wouldn’t have to work for a whole winter while living in a mansion.”

“It was a lot…”

“What?”

Adara shifted in her chair. “There was something odd about them.”

“More than someone from Graterious travelling all the way to Danafra to buy slaves?” Rafiki leant back into his chair. “There are a dozen ports between here and the border…Why bother?” His eyes narrowed as he looked at the clear blue sky. “Tell me. What did he look like?”

“Um…Pretty normal. Normal height, I suppose. No real scars, but he was missing a finger. The others were rather normal as well…Though I thought their composition was odd.”

“How did he get a Clanswoman to follow him?” Rafiki shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have to have a chat with this person. Find out what I can learn.”

From what I remember it wasn’t anything like what you’ve done.

“So what was so strange? Other than one completely covered in cloth.”

“It was the coins. They weren’t from Graterious or Seocuria. The gold was good, excellent quality, but the markings were strange.”

“Perhaps they’re from Frindal? Or Xiam…No. Definitely not there. Sounds more like the Kingsland than anything.”

“The gold coins had an eight pointed crown.” Adara continued. “The staff asked me if that was fine, it was pure, extremely pure. Far more than our coins. But I’ve never seen that marking before. Do you think it’s a custom coin?”

Rafiki laughed, slapping the table. “Hardly! No, that belongs to the dead Kar Kingdom. They’re long gone and yet…Someone that bought all those Beast-kin slaves using a dead currency…”

Rafiki’s eyes lit up. “Who else would want to rescue an old Beast-kin, to come so far north? It wouldn’t be too difficult to hide a Half-Breed like her. She looks human enough, especially with some cloth…” Rafiki turned to Adara, his face continued to smile but his eyes, his eyes were nothing but ice. “Why didn’t you force them to reveal her face?”

Adara clasped her fingers tight, where none could see them. “They had bought a great many slaves, to start a plantation near the border with Graterious. We didn’t question it since the gold was good and the slaves needed moving out of the Slave House. I didn’t want to offend a prospective buyer. I know that you wouldn’t like it if we asked everyone what they were going to do with the Beast-kin.”

Rafiki took a deep breath, slowly the life returned to his eyes. “Understandable. I, I know many that wouldn’t want their faces associated with what they do. Ah, what vices gold can unleash.”

“That’s all I know about them.” Adara bowed her head lightly. “They registered and followed all procedures correctly…Do you think there’s something more to this?”

“What? You think they might be involved with the assaults?” Rafiki’s bemused smile slowly faded. “Well…They bought Marion…And I’m sure that if some human was close enough to Kal to willingly risk themselves to rescue her mother…”

Rafiki turned to the guard on his right. “Investigate this…What was his name?”

“Anton.”

“Anton and everything that he’s doing. Strange for someone to be building a new plantation near the Graterian border and come all this way. No. That’s too suspicious.”

“The map of the Kar Kingdom?” The other guard asked.

“Please.”

She bowed and hurried towards the door. Adara didn’t know what to make of her extremely short dress, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“If I remember correctly there’s only one port there. That narrows things. I’ll pay a few Graterian captains to make the journey. ” Rafiki shook his head. “And anything lurking there needs to go past Graterious.”

Rafiki leant back into his chair. “I wonder what they’re up to, my lovely little girls. At least the next topic I’m sure will tickle their fancy, doubly so with how much money they’ll be making.”

Rafiki chuckled. “War is always profitable. Especially with those boastful Bebbezzarian pricks.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 61 - Peaceful Days

Anton silently rummaged through the small boxes of coloured feathers for the blue Rainbow Bird feathers. Verona waited patiently for him to find it, smiling softly as she watched him aimlessly search through the boxes.

“You’re enjoying this.” Anton muttered. “Aren’t you?”

Verona, sitting on the floor, with the almost completed cloak before her, laughed. “Maybe? Maybe I am. Watching you bend over is quite the sight.”

Kal sighed. She sat against the far wall, knees close to her chest so she could rest a book against them, but she too watched Anton with a faint smile.

“Finally.” Anton retrieved a half empty box. “There aren’t too many of these things left. Any luck at getting more?”

Verona stretched out her hand for the box as Anton moved between them. His dragonoid claws clicked loudly on the floor. Though he didn’t like them he needed to let them stretch out every so often, and it felt great knowing he wasn’t going to stab himself in his soft underside scales when he walked.

“Thanks.” Verona took the box and placed it beside her. As she leant forward she let out a tiny squeak and held her stomach. “My stomach’s starting to get pretty big. Bigger than Kal’s.”

“You’ve put at least three in her.” Kal’s eyes flicked up from her book. “At least three. I’m lucky, since I’ve managed to get away with one. Somehow.”

“I thought you wanted a child with me.” Anton sat between them, nestled in the corner of the room. He pulled his tail free and allowed it to coil behind him. “I’m happy…”

Kal waited until he was seated. She snapped her book shut and shuffled next to him. Unlike Verona’s stomach Kal’s was far more modest, though he doubted she could use a bow anymore. She said nothing as she wrapped her arm around his and placed a leg over his, scratching his scales with her claws.

“Of course I am.” Kal brought her other knee up and opened her book. It wasn’t a book on Glyph or Principle Magic, rather a collection of nursery rhymes and simple stories. “It’s only that you don’t have to carry it for so long.”

Anton pulled up Kal’s thick shirt and gently massaged her swollen stomach.

“Though…” Kal nestled her head closer to Anton’s. “This is thoroughly enjoyable.”

Kal’s eyes slowly closed as Anton continued to gently stroke her stomach. Her head began to drop and her book slide off of her leg. Anton used his free arm to take it from her. Kal opened an eye but did not protest. She shifted her body so it lay between Anton’s legs and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. A few breaths later and her body relaxed. Anton gently played with the tip of her ear but received no reaction.

“Unbelievable girl.” Verona chuckled. She placed one of her legs onto his, just shy of Kal’s. “And she calls me bad.”

“You are both getting enough sleep, right?” Anton placed a kiss on Kal’s forehead. She did not stir in any way. “It’s incredibly important, especially now.”

“We are.” Verona looked at Kal, smiled and shook her head. “She goes to bed earlier than me, and still ends up like this.”

“I remember when she barely slept.” Anton rested his hand on top of Kal’s stomach. “She acted like she was, her eyes closed, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping. Must just be catching up on all those years.”

“Yeah.” Verona smiled and continued sewing.

Anton began to doze off himself. Every so often Kal would move, not awaken but shift herself into a more comfortable position. Eventually she held his hand, the slightly rough pads enveloped his own, and placed the other on his chest.

“Anton?” Verona lent closer. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes.” Anton forced his eyes open. He was only a few moments from letting sleep overtake him.

“I’ve been thinking…” Verona gently placed her work down and shuffled closer. She wiggled her legs through Kal’s and took his hand to place on her stomach. “Have you thought of any names yet?”

“I...I have. Actually.” Anton pulled Kal closer, who still refused to wake. “I was thinking if it was a boy, maybe Edward or Mitchel? Or Catherine or Heather or if it’s a girl.”

“…We’ll keep thinking about it.”

“What? You don’t like mine?” Anton scoffed and slapped her leg with his tail. She glared at him and began to lightly poke it. “I thought it they were good.”

“They are.” Verona gave one of the faintly glowing ends a gentle kiss. “But we just need some more, that’s all. There’s more than just one in here.”

Anton leant back, his head made a light thud as he hit the wood. Verona lent forward but quickly returned to her sewing.

“Would those names be normal on Earth?” Verona idly asked.

“I think so. But, at least before I came here, there were starting to be some really strange names cropping up. Ones that just sounded like gibberish to me.”

“What would we be doing if we had come to Earth?” Verona patted the feather coat. “I know that I wouldn’t be making this. No Rainbow Birds on Earth. Right?”

“No. But you could certainly make something similar. And it would look just as beautiful.”

Kal stirred in his arms. She shifted to his other side, careful to not scratch Verona’s leg in the process.

“My job was pretty mundane, for Earth. Answering phone calls.”

Verona stopped and held his hand. “You don’t have to talk about your past if you don’t want to. I don’t want to see you having one of those panic attacks. I don’t like seeing you like that.”

“It’s fine.” Anton smiled. “It’s only when I think back further than that…”

The first shiver travelled down Anton’s back. He gripped Kal’s shoulder and they stopped.

“I think that we would have lived...Well, mundane lives compared to what we have here.” Anton smiled. “Though I wouldn’t say it would be bad. I think I’d have still lost my job, but all of you wouldn’t have had much of a problem.”

“I have absolutely no idea what I would be doing in your world.” Verona laughed. “Maybe something alongside you.”

She ran a hand through her silver hair. “Though I’m sure that my looks would become very useful. Probably selling something. Lean forward, act innocent, make sure my shirt’s just a bit too tight and then men would buy anything I have. Right?”

Anton chuckled. “That is a little too close to reality. Some people…” He shook his head. “They take advantage of others. Anyway, I think Kal...Hmm. What would Kal be?”

Kal’s ear pricked up slightly. She was no longer asleep, not that he was about to disrupt her dozing.

“I don’t know. But she’d definitely have a motor cycle.”

“What?” Verona laughed. “Those drawings of yours...Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. Cetina would definitely be a personal trainer, Mezot a teacher or a researcher, since it’s the closest thing to magic in my world, and Rasha a boxer.”

“I would not want to go against her.” Verona winced. “She hasn’t had to fight a normal person yet. I don’t think they’re going to last more than a single hit.”

Kal cutely yawned and pulled herself up. “Certainly not. But she’s still been exercising. She’s even bigger than she when we first met.”

“You mean other than just her chest?” Anton gave Kal a gentle kiss. “They have grown. But, in all seriousness, she’s been so excited to go anywhere with us. I do want to show her cities, but I really don’t want to have her in a box that she can look out. And unlike you it’s really hard to disguise her. No wonder she was so upset.”

The front door opened. Kal’s ear pricked up as they heard two footsteps approaching, one human while the other was much harsher and louder, the sound of hooves.

“Where are you?” Rasha’s voice echoed throughout the hallway. “Are you in the bedroom?”

“Over here.” Verona shouted.

Cetina arrived first. Her running gear was stained with sweat, her face flushed red from exhaustion and her chest heaved with deep breaths.

“Seems like you’ve run a dozen times around Atros.” Verona sniggered. “Normally you wouldn’t have done a third of that by this time.”

Cetina shrugged as she sat next to Verona. Her hands shook slightly from exhaustion.

“Well, it’s the first time that we’ve done it without Anton. So we weren’t slowed down too much.”

Anton scoffed, Cetina stuck out her tongue and ran her hands through her hair. The snowflakes had melted and made her hair slick with water.

“It was just this one time.” Rasha poked her head around the corner. Like Cetina she was breathing very heavily, while her skin had turned a faint purple as extra blood rushed underneath her blue skin. She flexed her arms, taught against her skin and filled with blood as she settled down against the far side of the room. “It just doesn’t feel the same without Anton.”

“I bet it doesn’t.” Verona smirked. “No little detour halfway through?”

Rasha shrugged and began to clean her hooves. “It’s just once a day. Besides, when Anton’s away on his adventures I don’t get to see him. So there’s no problem with what I do. Surely.” She pointed to Verona’s stomach with her free hand. “That happened because you didn’t take enough detours.”

Verona’s mouth hanged open, though he could see her smiling. Rasha looked at each of them in turn before shrugging and resuming her cleaning.

“So what is the plan?” Cetina asked. A shiver ran over her body. She quickly retrieved a coat from the next room for herself and Rasha. “You said the next few days would be calm...Where’s Mezot?”

“She’s with Axia at the moment.” Kal shuffled so she sat in his lap. “I think they’re practising their magic. Even though they are incredibly strong.”

Ka looked towards the closed wooden slat window. “But we were just discussing what we would be if we went to Anton’s world, rather than the other way around.”

“Good that we’re at a time where we can discuss such things.” Cetina smiled warmly.

“True…” Verona laughed as she placed her sewing down. “I just had another thought, since we’re wondering what life would be like the other way around.”

“And that is?” Anton began to stroke Kal’s ears. She remained calm but the base of her tail gently swayed back and forth.

“Well, if we were men and you were a woman.”

Kal scoffed and patted his leg. “I think that half of Atros would be pregnant with Verona’s kids.”

“No they wouldn’t.” Verona smiled.

“I think I would have already have had children.” Anton laughed. “But I don’t think much would change. Except that I would be the one exhausted every morning.”

“Five at once?” Kal clicked her tongue. “I think you would be a bit crowded. Though I’m sure things would work themselves out...Somehow.”

“I’m more worried about Rasha.”

“Why?” Rasha looked up.

“Because you’re a Minotaur.”

“And?” Rasha's lips trembled, she knew but didn’t wish to say it.

“Because Anton’s worried that, unlike us,” Verona rubbed the inside of her legs. “You’d have this absolute monster-”

Someone knocked loudly on the door.

“Thank the Gods.” Rasha bolted from the room, a hand covering her reddening face.

“Too far?” Verona teasingly asked Anton.

Anton gave her hand a squeeze as Rasha and another set of footsteps came to their room. Rasha was still a little embarrassed when she sat, her cloak pulled tight around her. Zuhura’s blue headscarf peered around the door, a slight frown graced her face.

“Good morning.” Zuhura spoke softly. “How is everyone?”

“Fine.” Rasha bitterly smiled and shook her head. “Perfectly fine.”

“Should…”

“She’s fine.” Anton said. “Just a bit too heavy on the teasing this morning.”

“A bit?” Rasha scoffed but her smile quickly warmed.

“Well…” Zuhura cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Does anyone need any food? I see that two of you have just come back from a morning run.”

“Do you wish to join us?” Cetina asked. “I know that you get up pretty early but we do run, even in the snow.”

Kal frowned at Anton.

Does she think that Zuhura would ‘stand guard’, while Cetina and Rasha have their ‘detour’ with me?

Zuhura shook her head. “I am fine. Physical exercise isn’t my forte.” She managed a smile. “And I’m sure that I would simply slow you down.”

Verona’s eyes narrowed on Zuhura.

“I don’t know about that. But,” Verona gave her stomach a gentle pat. “Once we’ve had our children I know we’ll start. While they’re getting fit we’re just getting flabby-”

“You are.” Kal muttered.

Verona stuck out her tongue as Zuhura looked on slightly worried. A gentle wave from Anton told him it was fine.

“Regardless,” Zuhura ran a hand over the shawl of her sleeve, brushing away a few errant snowflakes. “The other day I expressed the desire to take proper account of Atros’s finances, your finances.”

“You don’t need to speak so formally.” Anton said, Zuhura’s face remained stoic. “But that is a good idea. I don’t think we’ve had a real idea how much we’ve got in a while. Normally I just take out a bag and that’s that.”

Anton saw Zuhura’s eye twitch almost imperceptibly. He had not said it that way to irritate her but it was a cute reaction, of a rather serious matter.

“Most of the money’s still in the Main Hall.” Kal stretched out her legs. Her clawed toes fought with his, a rather pleasant sensation. “Along with the bars of silver.”

“Bars?” Zuhura blinked in disbelief. “Kal, did you just say bars of silver?”

Kal nodded. “Yep. The Dwarves have been mining silver and Chelium ore...We didn’t see any of that last time.”

Zuhura scrunched her eyes tight. “After travelling through Frindal together...No one should be talking so casually about bars of silver, if they’re not some sort of nobility.”

“I guess Anton is.” Rasha mused. “Everyone listens to what he has to say.”

“That was to be my next question.” Zuhura gave Rasha a curt nod. “That I also wish to review your cities overall structure.” Zuhura grew nervous as her blue gloved fingers picked at one another. “If your other administrative structures are as...Loose, as your finances appear to be-”

“We have a decent system.” Anton replied, Zuhura held her metaphorical ground. “But I do agree with what you said. Things just sort of run themselves. The builders do their thing...But I don’t know what you could do to change it to something better. Especially since literacy in Atros is very poor. Right now it’s all just sort of functioning.”

Kal slowly nodded. “As most of the citizens are former slaves or Human...Slaves. By another name. The Dark Elves and Dwarves have some literacy, the Dwarves more than the Dark Elves, but being able to read doesn’t help them with running a basic forge in terrible conditions in the Dwarven Isles.”

Zuhura’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll explain on the way.” Anton said. “But having someone that knows a bit more than what we’re currently doing can’t be a bad thing. Basically it’s just an extension from how we were handling things when I arrived. But, Zuhura, I don’t know how much you’re going to accomplish.” Anton raised his hand. “Not that I doubt your abilities, only that there might not be too much you can actually do.”

“Not to mention that we don’t have much paper.” Kal said softly. “We can get more...But it’s most used by the Dwarves when they’re trying to understand Anton’s designs.”

“True.”

Zuhura took a slow breath. “I believe that I should still try. At the very least the finances. You need to know exactly how much money you have access too. The Hamtaro’s were very expensive-”

“Those gemstones were just lying about.” Verona idly shrugged.

Zuhura almost baulked at her words.

“We’ve teased her enough.” Anton gave Kal’s shoulder a pat. She did not move, instead staring blankly into his eyes. Instead of moving she ground her rear into his lap and nestled deeper. “I doubt that they’re just going to let her into where the money is.”

“Go on then.” Verona gave Kal’s legs a gentle kick. “Shouldn’t take too long. Just be back before lunch.”

“I can help prepare it, if you wish.” Zuhura’s voice had calmed slightly. “After all, I am not capable of combat but I can perform domestic duties.”

“I actually like cooking.” Anton finally pulled Kal off of his lap. She pouted until he gave her another kiss. “But we won’t be too long.”

“Do you want us to come?” Cetina asked. She frowned as she pulled her eye-patch away and dabbed at the sweat that had built around her ruined eye. Zuhura looked slightly disquieted at what she saw. “It wouldn’t take us long to get dressed.”

“We’ll be fine.” Anton stood up. He flexed his dragonoid toes. “Though I may need some help to get these back into my boots. You don’t mind waiting a few moments, do you?”

“O-Of course not.”

Zuhura continued to stare in silence as Kal and Rasha helped his boots back on.

---[]---

“It is remarkable what you have managed to build here.” Zuhura said as they walked through the snow covered streets of Atros. “Verona told me that there were barely a thousand people, Humans, when you arrived.”

“Did she tell you that when she took you away to discuss Frindal cuisine?” Anton chuckled. “That’s all she did, didn’t she? You didn’t actually tell us what she asked you.”

“Just that.” Zuhura managed a small smile. “She was very interested in what types of foods we cooked in Frindal. She didn’t know about the differences between the Coastal and Nomad Frindal’s, but it only made her more excited. Somehow.”

“She can be like that. But if she ever seems like she’s becoming overbearing, or too much, just tell her to back down a little. I know you’re never meant to say that to a woman but it works for her.”

Zuhura chuckled as she saw a group of Human and Beast-kin children running towards them. They were playing with a small ball, one made from animal hide, kicking it along the street seemingly without any rules. She moved behind Anton as the children passed. One of the Beast-kin children, a Shark Beast-kin judging by his rough grey skin, large serrated teeth and long covered tail with a fin along the back, stopped and gawked at Zuhura. She smiled back, the child blushed and ran to join the others.

“I think you just made his day.” Anton said softly.

“Really?”

“Some new, pretty lady just smiled at him. All of the boys will be jealous of what’s just happened to him.”

Zuhura shrugged and smiled faintly. “If you say so, Anton.”

The street ended and opened into the Central Plaza. As the snow continued to rain down very few people were present, only those heading somewhere far warmer. Anton caught some soldiers, recruits judging by their armour and that many were Beast-kin, being loudly reprimanded by an officer for sleeping in. Their punishment was to completely clean the Central Plaza of snow.

“Poor buggers.” Anton said. “Zuhura? If we do get any more people from Frindal-”

“I do not know how they would react to the Beast-kin.” Zuhura immediately cut him off. “While not openly as hostile as those from your continent they will not see them much better.”

“No. No, I don’t think they would.” Anton sighed. “An impossible task, don’t you think?”

“An admirable one.” Zuhura played with a golden earring. “Even if it is likely doomed to fall the moment Seocuria, or one of the other major powers in the world notice you.”

“Exactly why we need to make sure we do it right. And I’m sure that having a good administration is a part of that. Right?”

Zuhura returned a single curt nod. Two guards stood outside the Main Hall, both huddled around a small burning brazier and on the verge of falling asleep. Anton loudly stepped onto the wood, immediately waking both. He said nothing as they quickly returned to their post.

“Bertram or Sybil in?”

“Yes, my lord.” The less sleepy guard replied.

Another one from Qaiviel…

“Both, actually.”

“Excellent. I think it’s about time I removed some of the burden from them.”

Both gave Zuhura a thorough look. They couldn’t quite make a decision about her, other than that she was clearly new. Anton caught them winking at each other, Zuhura did not.

Anton stepped inside and felt a wave of heat wash over him. Compared to the outside it was like an oven.

“That is so much nicer.” Zuhura gently pulled the shawl away from her chest. “It may be cold in Frindal, but it’s never that cold.”

“We can still get you some better clothes if you want.” The thought that Zuhura was only wearing her shawl crept back into his mind. “Even if it’s just something on top. That underlay seems pretty warm as it is.”

“I...Yes.” Zuhura quickly forced herself to smile. “Perhaps something like that would very nice.”

Perhaps…No. Keep focused.

“Bertram? Sybil? Are you there?”

“Anton?” Bertram called out.

“Yes, it’s me.” Anton followed the voice to the second room on the right. “You two definitely seem like you’re keeping warm.”

Bertram and Sybil sat before a small but roaring fire. The two had large and high padded chairs, so they didn’t have to fall down to sit.

“It’s wonderful now.” Sybil raised her hands towards the flickering flame. “First winter in a long time where we haven’t been cold.”

“I’m hearing that a lot. And it’s only a good thing.”

“And who’s this?” Bertram put down an old book, one of nursery rhymes that Anton had used to learn this world’s language. “Who have you managed to pick up this time.”

Anton understood the implications, as did Zuhura, but he simply took it in his stride. “This is Zuhura. From Frindal. She was an effective guide through the land and she will be staying with us for the immediate future.”

“Have you told her about that house?” Sybil chuckled. “The one you’ve put her in?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Zuhura’s black brows furrowed.

“Nothing to worry about.” Anton chuckled nervously. “But Zuhura helped to manage finances of one of the Frindal leaders, and I was hoping that she could do that here.”

“Umm…” Bertram looked somewhat sheepish. “I don’t think you’re going to find much here. We still don’t have any need for money, though the Dark Elves and the Dwarves keep pushing for it. Not to mention that you just come and take whatever you need.”

Zuhura’s eyes narrowed slightly on Anton.

“Still in the back? And the Dwarves are dropping off the silver bars as well?”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Zuhura muttered. “Bars of silver, like bundles of sticks…”

“Yes,” Bertram groaned as he stood up and slowly walked towards them. “They do love a good chat. They’re always interested in stories from the old Kar Kingdom. And since Sybil and I are really the only ones old enough to remember such times…”

“I hope that you’re taking your newfound popularity in your stride.” Anton replied.

Bertram chuckled and followed.

“Do you agree with what Anton’s doing?” Zuhura asked softly as they reached the door. It had been heavily reinforced with metal, as had the surrounding wall.

“Regarding?” Bertram shuffled closer. “I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

Anton unlocked the door. Zuhura immediately forgot about what she had asked Bertram, her brown eyes bulged out of their sockets at the wealth on display.

“I...I...What?” Zuhura stammered. A leg began to shake, Anton held her arm by the elbow until she steadied herself. At least her gloves extended that far, as they had for Mezot. “Th...Thank you.”

“We need that Sovereign Palace thing of yours finished as soon as we can.” Bertram entered the room and opened one of the chests. Light struck the piles of gemstones, covering Bertram in green and reds. “It’ll be a lot safer there...She’s about to fall again.”

Anton had not relinquished his hold. Zuhura held the door frame for support.

“I never thought that I would see so much!” Zuhura almost sounded angry. “So much...Just flippantly...At least you’re planning to move it somewhere more secure. Because having this much in here is extremely dangerous. Especially for them.”

“We don’t have much need for gold or jewels.” Bertram opened the next chest. Zuhura let out a faint groan upon seeing it half filled with gold coins. “And no one can use it to buy anything. So...It’s rather worthless, when you think about it.”

“Perhaps.” Zuhura shook her head. “But it’s still a bad habit to get into.”

Bertram opened the final two chests. In it lay hundreds of silver ingots, roughly forged but of extremely high purity. Zuhura had already come to accept what she was seeing.

“I see.” Was all that she said.

“I think funnelling these through our new friends in Seocuria is a good start.” Anton picked up one of the silver ingots. It was much heavier than he expected. “It would explain where they’re getting their newfound wealth and we could exchange them for gold, silver and copper coins. No more stall owners losing their minds when we try to buy some food with a gold coin.”

“You’ve done that before?” Zuhura approached the chest of ruby and emerald gemstones.

“In Graterious. Thankfully they thought it was some sort of joke. And we had some silver coins. Now that I think about it we probably got ripped off.” Anton shrugged as he placed the ingot back. “Not that it really matters. So, Zuhura, what do you think?”

“I think this is ridiculous.”

Bertram laughed. “Everyone thinks that, at least in the beginning. I didn’t know if Anton’s idea to free the Beast-kin and bring them here was the right one. Not that I have any problem with them. But...I think it was the right decision.”

“Kal would have been lonely if we didn’t.” Anton smiled. “And I wouldn’t have met so many of them too.”

Zuhura turned away from the gemstones. “I will require paper and something to write with. I will do my best to catalogue exactly how much wealth you have. Do you not have any gold plates or rings? Just coins?”

“Just coins.” Anton frowned at Bertram. “Strange that the Yellow Goblins only found gold coins, isn’t it?”

Bertram shrugged. “I still think that they managed to catch the dregs of the royal treasury. So the rest is probably still out there somewhere. If it did make it to Qaiviel or Graterious they would have had more than enough money to retake this land. Or at least buy themselves a truly impressive castle.”

“I…” Zuhura shook her head and smiled. “I really don’t have anything more to say.”

---[]---

Anton assisted Zuhura with counting exactly how much wealth they had. At first Anton thought she was going for a rough approximation but Zuhura was very thorough. Bertram offered to help but his age prevented him from doing much. Sybil called him away before he could hurt himself. Zuhura rested on her knees as she counted the piles of gold coins and gemstones. From the way she sat Anton was becoming more and more convinced that she wasn’t wearing underneath, especially the way it folded around a rather generous rear.

Even after bedding five different women my eyes are still being drawn to a large rear…I guess some things never change. I suppose that women are no better, though Verona’s definitely the same as me.

“Finally.” Zuhura muttered, breaking Anton’s thoughts. “I have a complete list.”

Zuhura stood up and passed Anton the sheet of paper. She brushed away the few flecks of dirt from her knees and the very end of her shawl, just above her boots. Zuhura did not like any dirt staining the black material, despite coming from a land of howling winds and endless sand.

“You…” Anton flicked his eyes down to the paper. Zuhura tilted her head as he touched the writing. “You have very beautiful writing.”

“Do I?” Zuhura tried to sound uninterested but the nervous glance gave away her delight. “I…Was taught how to write clearly and quickly. Do you normally have to read…Messy writing?”

“Usually my own.” Anton smiled. “Sometimes I'm surprised that the Dwarves can even understand my drawings. That they’re not just random scrawls of a madman. But now we have a good idea of how much wealth Atros has.”

“I still can’t believe how much money you have lying around. But I have a decent idea.” Zuhura gently took back the paper. “Given my knowledge of purchasing goods in Frindal I have an estimate of how long your funds would last. I presume that Qaiviel and Graterious have cheaper wood than Frindal.”

“Almost certainly. I imagine that most of it’s imported anyway. Not many trees…”

“Is something the matter?” Zuhura asked as she began to place the remaining pieces of coins and gemstones. “I’m certain that I counted everything correctly. We can check it again if you’d like.”

“No. No, these numbers seem right.” Anton took a deep breath. “I don’t know...How much do you think we could spend on raw materials anyway?”

“You are able to get wood and stone relatively easily. I’ve walked along the outer wall and seen there’s a forest to the west. Stone comes from the north. The most important thing would be tools and the finer materials. I’m certain that even a fraction of this would cover it.”

Zuhura motioned to the piles of silver bars. “One of these a day would be more than sufficient to import all of your construction and tool needs.”

“This...Has been very useful.” Anton said. “Now we know roughly how much we can spend. We’ll have someone go through the portals to Bebbezzar or Graterious to buy the materials we need.”

“It was my pleasure to help.”

Anton did not know if Zuhura had worked out that he would already have had a decent idea but he was not about to say anything.

Sometimes it’s best to say nothing.

“Now, with a decent handle on how much we can spend daily-”

“How are you going?” Sybil asked. She yawned slightly and covered her mouth. “Sorry. Bertram and I are getting on in the years and need our rest. Did you find everything you need?”

“We did.”

“How often do the Dwarves come here to deliver a silver ingot?”

“Usually only once. But sometimes they have two or three ingots. Sometimes one. Other times more. It’s very hard to say.”

Zuhura took back the paper and made a small adjustment.

“If you want a better understanding of where it’s being spent you’ll have to ask Anton. Since he’s the one that’s actually spending it.”

“I hope that Anton will be far more efficient and thoughtful with his spending in the future.” Zuhura said calmly as she returned the paper.

“If I didn’t spend liberally we wouldn’t have the Hamtaro’s, Beast-kin, most of the Dwarves and Dark Elves.”

“Perhaps.” Zuhura’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But I still think that it could have been better spent-”

“Nor would I have been able to free Wilford from his crushing debt, which meant that I wouldn’t have eventually reached Frindal and freed you from Sultan Hazm’s service. Not that it seemed like you had a bad life there.”

“I…” Zuhura ran a nervous finger along the edge of the sheet of paper. “I suppose that may be true.”

“I will do better in the future. It’s not limitless, and continuing to do so may warp my perception of money in the future.”

Sybil shook her head. “That first part sounded like you were apologising to your wife after you’ve messed up.”

Zuhura raised a black brow at Anton.

“I haven’t had to do it much.” Anton smiled. “So...That’s good. I certainly hope it is.”

Someone knocked loudly on the front door. Bertram groaned as he slowly made for the door.

“How are you both doing? Health wise. I haven’t been checking too much, with so much else going on.”

“I suppose that we’ve got a few extra aches and pains.” Sybil rubbed her wrists. “Nothing that’s unexpected with getting old.”

“Let me help.”

Anton touched her shoulder and chanted a healing prayer. Sybil breathed a little easier, her skin looked more youthful and her face a little less strained.

“Thank you.” Sybil chuckled. “It’s still a strange ability that you have.”

“It’s still strange for me.” Anton looked over to the door. “Dwarves? For me or to deliver silver?”

“Silver.” Bertram stood to the side. “Quite a large delivery today.”

The Dwarves stepped in, carrying a small chest. Their stocky arms tensed under the weight. Zuhura watched them deposit four silver ingots, give her a curt nod, and quickly leave.

“You aren’t concerned that the Dwarves could be stealing some?” Zuhura raised a brow.

Anton folded his arms. “If I really wanted to I could chase them back to The Dwarven Isles. And there isn’t another place they could possibly flee to. Besides, they don’t have time. The other Dwarven Clans are already suspecting something. They simply won’t. And by the time that they’re in a position to do something we’ll have a much more secure vault and system.”

Zuhura did not look particularly enthusiastic or impressed.

“This one you’re just going to have to trust me on. So…What’s the next thing?”

Zuhura blinked and quickly refocused herself. “Since your limited finances have been taken care of…I would like to see your construction and planning…”

Zuhura sighed. “I doubt that you have much of a civil construction authority. I had to sometimes liaison between them and Sultan Hazm.”

“They allowed women to be involved?”

“Sending message primarily. But I overheard most of what they said.”

“Zac is currently in the southern construction yard.”

“You have a designated area for your construction teams?” Zuhura faintly smiled. “Perhaps there is something that I can do.”

---[]---

“Anton!” Zac said loudly. “Good to see you.”

The large bear man waved Anton away from the busy construction yard into his small open office. The sound of scraping wood, axes chopping wood and the shouting of disgruntled workers nearly drowned him out. Despite the cold and snow work continued unabated, perhaps in spite of it since the heavy work kept them warm. As did the small fire braziers, loaded with coal.

“You too, Zac.” Anton shook the bear man’s hands, ever thankful he did not try and crush his in return. “Everything still going well?”

“As well as it can be considering the snow.” Zac nodded at Zuhura. “Another...And with a very strange choice in clothing too.”

“Hello.” Zuhura bowed her head. “My name is Zuhura, and I wish to know how Atros’s construction and expansion is being handled and directed.”

“Um...Are you replacing me?” Zac raised a bushy brow. Anton knew that he did not consider it for a single moment.

“No. But Zuhura’s the first person we’ve got that knows about this stuff...From teachings rather than doing it for years.”

“Ah. I see.” Zac began to search through wooden drawers. “Well, Zuhura, I don’t think there’s much to say. We follow our plans, mark out what we’re going to build and then...Build it. That’s about it.”

“What sort of designs do you have for the larger buildings?” Zuhura pointed towards the multi-story buildings. “Surely you have a plan for those.”

“Beyond reinforcing the main supports? Not too much.” Zac continued rifling through large sheets of rough paper. “Now where is that damned drawing? I know it’s here somewhere.”

Anton heard the workers behind them stop. It was not lunchtime, not that they had a whistle or a bell to tell the time, but it still felt unusual. When he looked back he saw Irso approaching, with a small cloth wrapped box held tight against her chest. Shockingly she almost had a smile on her ferocious face, which disappeared when she saw him.

“Ah...Hello, Anton.” Irso clicked her tongue. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“Hello Irso.” Anton gently shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d be so happy to see me.”

“Piss off.” Irso gnashed her teeth together. “I haven’t seen Zac for a few days, thanks to my work, and I was hoping that I’d get some time to see him. By. Myself.”

Zuhura tapped Anton’s arm. “Who is she? And why is she so angry? Is she a former-”

Irso angrily snapped her sharp teeth at Zuhura. Zuhura nearly jumped back and hid behind Anton.

“I don’t know who you are, but don’t you dare suggest that I’d be with this greedy asshole!”

“There!” Zac retrieved a large sheet of paper. “It was at the bottom.” He laid it on the table and immediately grabbed Irso and brought her in for a kiss.

Irso bared her teeth but Zac did not care. She sighed, placed the small box onto the table and jumped into his arms.

“They’re partners.” Anton spoke softly to Zuhura. “Though Irso can be a little prickly at the best of times.”

“Prickly?” Zuhura stared at him in disbelief. “I thought she was about to attack me.”

“Well...I suppose that’s not entirely untrue.”

While Zac did not seem to care that people were watching Irso certainly did. After a quick kiss she tried to pull away.

“Zac.” Irso growled at he kissed her ear. “There are people here.”

“Do you think I care?”

“I do!” Irso gently slapped his chest. “So let me down. Please.”

Never thought I’d hear her say please.

Zac gave her another quick kiss before releasing his hold. As he did Anton saw many fading bite marks at the base of his neck.

I don’t need to ask how he got those. Anyone seeing my back would have the same question.

“Thanks.” Irso glanced at Anton before giving Zac’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Sorry about that, Anton. I’ve just been so pissed off at everything lately. Everything sets me off...Except Zac. I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll grow out of it.”

Anton knew it would be unbelievably rude to say but her chest looked slightly larger. That, and her mood swings, noticeable even to someone as angry as her, could be a sign of pregnancy.

“I’ll heal you.” Anton said. “If something’s wrong it should fix it right away.”

“Right…”

“Zuhura.” Zac raised the large piece of paper. “If you wish to have a look at our plans? It’s been a while since I’ve looked at it too, so it’ll be good to get another look at it.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Zuhura moved next to Zac as he laid the paper on the table. The two began to mutter amongst themselves, pointing to markers. Anton did not try and interfere, as he didn’t really know much about civil engineering beyond the superficial, and turned his attention back towards the open construction yard. Before he could see anything Irso stood before him.

“You know, Irso, that I haven’t met anyone like you before.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’ve never met a woman like you.”

“Good.” Irso folded her arms. “That way your little pet isn’t going to steal...Him.”

Anton returned her posture. “If you keep that attitude up you’re going to lose him. There’s only so much someone can put up with such a volatile personality.”

Irso’s eye twitched. Her shoulders dropped, so too did her tail. “I can’t help it. Honestly, I know that sounds like female bitching but I honestly can’t. It’s just...Inside. I get angry and it just gets away from me…”

“Just remember to take a deep breath, no matter what. Count to three before responding.”

Irso smiled. “You don’t need to teach me that, Anton. But I honestly think I’ve been getting better.”

“Didn’t you nearly kill someone because they grabbed your rear?”

Irso looked away but also smiled. “He deserved it. Besides, I wasn’t the only one.”

“I remember you, Kal rather, saying that the Drakeling’s kept and taught the Beast-kin, so they there might be a hint of resistance towards the Seocurian Masters.”

“Yes. But I was never good.” Irso ran a hand through her rough hair. “They thought I was too violent.” She smiled at Anton, exposing her jagged teeth. “Imagine that.”

“Can’t believe it. But how much do the Drakeling’s move about, since the Seocurian’s don’t consider your kind a threat so long as they keep their distance.”

Irso’s eyes narrowed to little more than slits. “What are you asking?”

“I’m asking if the Drakeling’s could help prepare a nation-wide rebellion. Or, at the very least, make things extremely difficult for them to operate in areas we are operating in?”

“I…” Irso looked towards the buildings beyond. Snow covered the rooves, even the rough scaffolding surrounding the rapidly rising buildings. “I don’t think Atros is ready to take in that many Beast-kin. There’d be...Far too many. I mean it’s an entire country. Right? That must be millions.”

Irso pointed towards a watch tower on the outermost wall. “And that’s it. That’s as far as Atros goes. We’re nowhere near ready.”

“No. Not now. But one day. So...What do you think?”

Irso scratched a patch of scales that grew on her face. “I...I don’t know. Not that I can’t, only that it might not be the right choice right now. If we start to act up then the Seocurian Empire might start to kill Drakelings and put more scrutiny on us...But I’ll see what I can do. Wait a moment. Do I need to go to Seocuria?”

Irso gripped her elbows tight. “I do not want to go back there...I don’t want to see another plantation as long as I live.”

“I can appreciate that.” Anton caught Zac and Zuhura waving them over. “But it is something that I’d like to get done.”

Irso chuckled. “Find another Drakeling and I’ll convince them.”

“Preferably without your normal calm demeanour.”

Irso smirked as they stood on the opposite side of the table. The piece of paper had several fresh alterations, the tips of Zuhura’s fingers were stained black with charcoal.

“Uh, your friend Zuhura knows quite a bit.” Zac began, pointing to the new markings. “Not towards the structure, she doesn’t mind the squares given that we’re living on a plain.”

“I was confused as to why you had two different shapes.” Zuhura pointed to the concentric rings at the centre of Atros. “But the reasoning made sense.”

“A few extra things. But she seems rather impressed by what we’ve got here.” Zac chuckled. “Guess we managed to luck out, right?”

“We did pretty well.” Anton said. “So, Zuhura, what do you think?”

“Without access to more books I have don e all I can.” A hand nervously tapped the table. “I’m beginning to understand what you were saying earlier. That there might not be much that I can actually help with.”

“Nonsense.” Zac almost slapped her on the back, an action that would have thrown Zuhura face first onto the table and probably a good scratching from Irso. “You’ve made me feel good about my choices and decisions. And since Anton’s always asking for something ridiculous…”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad.” Zac folded his arms and gave Zuhura a nudge. “You should see what Verona’s been allowed to commission with the Dwarves. That thing’s a monster. I’m glad I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Verona told me it was Anton’s decision.”

Both he and Zac scoffed.

“I said that I wanted a large building to house our administrative workers…” Anton shook his head. “I’m just glad the Dwarves are working for free. And they’re excited about being allowed to freely design it. That alone would have slashed the price.”

“What are you saying?” Zuhura lent closer. “They’re doing all this work for free?”

Zac nodded. “All of it. It’s not going to last forever, so we’re getting everything out of them that we can.”

“That…” Zuhura rubbed her temple and sighed. “I shouldn’t be surprised anymore.”

Zac smiled. “If you’re going to be anywhere near Anton you’d better get used to it.”

---[]---

“Frindal’s smithy’s are nothing like this.” Zuhura muttered. Her eyes darted over the exterior of the busy building. “They consider themselves more like artisans than smiths.”

“We need raw industrial output first.” Anton motioned for her to follow. “I’d prefer to have ten plain swords than one covered in gaudy trimming. That doesn’t win wars or keep us alive.”

“But it can earn…” Zuhura frowned as the noise of hammering metal sharply increased as she passed through the large doorway. “Not that Atros has much need of money as of yet!”

Anton moved her to a position away from the smiths and apprentices. While Anton had no experience in smithing himself no one was willing to tell him to leave.

“The forge has already undergone several revamps.” Anton said loudly, Zuhura tilted her head to hear him more clearly. “And it’s been optimised by the Dwarves.”

Zuhura shook her head. “Then I do not think there is much for me to do, other than tally what they expect to be able to produce.”

Anton motioned for her to follow him towards the back room. He caught Loretta’s eye, the tall Seocurian gave him a quick wave and smile as she ushered her children towards the back room. Seamus and Lili were covered in soot, somewhat hard to tell given their very dark skin, but still beamed with happiness.

“Hello!” Seamus waved as Anton passed into the room. Though there was no magic the rattling sound of metal dimmed dramatically, much to Zuhura’s relief. “We haven’t seen you in a long time. How…”

Seamus’s eyes fell on Zuhura and he completely stopped. Anton was not about to deny that Zuhura was rather beautiful but Seamus needed to control himself a little better. Lili was only marginally better, though her attention lay on the bright blue scarf hanging loosely around her neck.

“So long as you two are doing well.” Anton smiled. “I actually wanted to show Zuhura Luna. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that little white fuzz ball...I know Verona and Kal have but I don’t know if she’ll remember me.”

“A pet?” Zuhura asked softly.

“Kind of. We rescued her in Graterious...Her mother had been killed by a Griffon, so we took her with us. Seemed cruel to just let her die with her mother’s body, especially since she hadn’t actually been born yet.”

Zuhura quickly understood and her face softened. Lili went deeper into the room, behind a large row of completed shields and began to slap her knees. A small white creature began to emerge. Zuhura gasped at the sight of Luna, he doubted she’d seen a Peryton before, let alone heard of one. Luna had grown, now reaching his knees rather than able to curl up in his arms. She shakily followed Lili, from being disturbed from a deep sleep rather than injury, until her eyes ay on Anton. There was a moment where she did not entirely understand what she was seeing. The next moment her body lurched forward and she ran at Anton, jumping up and spreading her wings at the last moment. She still struck him hard with her head and hooves, thankfully he was ready and caught them before she could injure him.

“I missed you too.” Anton squeezed her hooves as Luna pulled herself closer to him. Her wings beat back and forth, trying to lift her body but she was not strong enough yet. “Have you been a good girl?”

Luna began to sneeze and dropped back to the ground. She accepted his scratches with an eager showing of her neck.

“She doesn’t do that for us.” Lili smiled. She glanced at her brother and sighed, still enamoured with Zuhura, who was pointedly ignoring his stares. “He…”

“He’ll get better.” Anton gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “I don’t think any woman likes being gawked at. Except for Luna. Right? You just love attention, don’t you?”

Luna began to prance and jump around Anton, nudging him with her small snout until she returned to the start. After several more scratches her attention moved to Zuhura, a newcomer and an unknown source of affection.

“Oh...Is she safe?” Zuhura held her collection of papers close to her chest and looked rather worryingly at Anton. “I...I don’t know about pets. She...She has some very large claws on her back legs. Why does she have those?”

“That’s a great question, but one I don’t have an answer for. But she’s very friendly.”

“Especially if you scratch her behind her ears.” Lili said.

Zuhura winced and offered a shaky hand towards Luna. She sniffed at the bright blue fabric and gave her exposed fingers a lick. Zuhura squeaked and stepped back.

“Ah. Hello.” She gave Luna a quick but rough pat.

Luna stared a Zuhura for a few more seconds and quickly lost interest. She was not going to be worth the trouble, better for her to go to someone she knew would shower her with affection. Which Anton did.

“I didn’t think you’d have a problem with pets.” Anton said as he continued to pat Luna. “Not a good comparison, but you don’t seem to have an issue with the Beast-kin.”

“Sultan Hazm had a pet dog. A large one. It liked to try and knock us over for fun, and Hazm wouldn’t discipline it. It died...By poisoning…”

“Luna’s not that bad.” Anton caught Jonathan and Shawn entering the small room. “Is she? I bet Luna just spends most of her time in here sleeping.”

“She does.” Jonathan smiled. “Where she sleeps is right next to the back of a forge, so it is really warm.” He offered his hand to Zuhura. “My name is Jonathan. I am in charge of the above ground smithy.”

“Zuhura.” She did not remove her hand, not that Jonathan appeared to mind. “And above ground?”

“The Dwarven hold has one...Perhaps another day. But Zuhura is here to see if there’s anything that we could improve, as she’s come from a city with actual planning, rather than just making things work.”

Jonathan scratched his head. “After the Dwarves moved into Atros we have never been more productive. Never. There is not much waste or inefficiency, and we’ve had some Dwarves nearly get into arguments about it, even the other day...But I do not think there is much that can be done.”

“I see…” Zuhura frowned and held the sheets tighter to her chest.

“Oh. But would you like to see the enchanted weapons that my children have continued to make?”

“What?” Zuhura’s eyes narrowed. “I thought Mezot and Axia...I don’t know anymore.”

Shawn laughed. “We aren’t Mages like them, but we do go to their lessons on how to read and write. Dad says it’s very important.”

Jonathan gave a stern nod. Anton gave Luna a final rough pat before following the two. She was not interested in going into the noisy forge and returned to her sleeping spot. Through the gaps in the racks he could see the bundle of sheets that acted as her bed.

The enchanted weapons had been locked away in another special room. When Anton entered he was almost gobsmacked by the number he saw. Before it had been less than a dozen, now the shelves were stacked with weapons and armour that rippled with lightning and fire.

“W...What?!” Zuhura’s eyes bulged. Her arms loosened and the papers nearly slipped away from her. “You are artefacts just lying around?! In some unlocked, unprotected room?! The damned piles of gold…”

Zuhura took a slow and steadying breath. “Okay. Why do you have so many?”

“Oh. That’s easy.” Shawn placed a fire enchanted knife on the table. “My sister and I made them.”

“You...And your sister?” Zuhura looked at Anton. She was not particularly surprised when he nodded. “Of course. But…” She rubbed the bridge of her nose hard. “It doesn't have much value outside of combat in a city without an economy. But...You should have traded some of these for the Hamtaro’s release.”

“Should I?”

“Yes. Sultan Hazm would have loved to have these as part of his collection. None of the Sultans would have anything close, I don’t even think the Padisha has anything more than a few. The gemstones would have had far more use elsewhere.”

“Huh...I didn’t even think of that.”

“What?”

“I…” Anton both winced and smiled at Zuhura’s expected reaction. “I kind of forgot that they were even being made.”

“How can you say that?” Shawn acted aghast. “We poured our very souls into these. Literally poured our souls into them.”

“I got carried away with my weapons.” Anton held his shoulder. “But it was wrong of me to forget that there are those who’s sweat and toil make weapons that are unrivalled. Our new soldiers, equipped with my project and these for melee, will be the envy of the world. And that can’t happen without your help.”

“I forgive you.” Shawn laughed. “So long as you promise to take Jocelyn and I to Graterious or Bebbezzar one day.”

“Of course.” Anton turned to Zuhura, who had remained silent during their exchange. “So what do you think?”

Zuhura’s blank expression slowly broke into a weak smile. “Honestly? I think you’re all beyond my help.” Her smile grew warmer as she ran a hand over her ear. “I think this whole city is beyond my help.”

---[]---

Zuhura held the small bundle of papers close to her chest as she stopped in front of her new home. She glanced up and allowed the few falling snowflakes to land on her face.

“I feel like I’ve only wasted your time.” Zuhura frowned at the papers, some of the snowflakes had stuck to her face. “Atros is unlike most cities of this size. Perhaps for the better...I feel like I can’t do much to improve it. Everything is sort of progressing at it’s own pace...Inefficiencies are slowly being weeded out and where production cannot meet demand, well, it’s being increased. There’s almost nothing for me to do...”

“You’d be surprised. Just telling them they’re doing a good job made their day, especially Zac. He doesn’t often smile like that.”

Zuhura smiled. “I suppose that I will be helping your household mostly then. How long before Verona and Kal’s babies are due?”

“I think it’ll be sometime around Summer? Maybe near the end I think. There’s still a bit of time before that.”

“Regardless, I shall be ready for the day.” Zuhura looked very confident. “Until then I shall assist with preparing meals and ensuring that your home remains clean and tidy.”

“Just be careful of rearranging my study. I’ve got a lot of important drawings there, and I’m not the tidiest of people.”

“That shall not be a problem.” Zuhura glanced behind him. Rasha’s looked at them, only her head stuck out, her bright orange horn and red hair was impossible to miss. “I believe that she...She is looking for you. How tall is she?”

“A little bit less than twice. And she could easily pick up both of us and throw us into the air.”

“And you’re...Together?”

“Yes. She might look fierce but she’s very sweet.”

“I shall not question your judgement.” Zuhura looked at her papers, but Anton knew she was imagining how the nights worked. “Thank you for showing me around Atros. I shall prepare better copies of these documents, and then I shall join you to prepare lunch.”

Zuhura gave a final bow of her head and briskly walked towards her new home. Anton mentally admonished himself for still wondering if she wore anything underneath her shawl.

“Don’t worry about it.” Anton said as he slowly trudged through the snow to a waiting Rasha. “It’s her choice...I’m sure that Verona would just ask.”

Rasha waved him closer.

“What’s up?”

“They’ve all gone out.” Rasha said. “Not out of Atros, something about getting more feathers. I think they’re going to talk to the Dark Elves about getting more.”

“Oh. I was hoping to talk to everyone. It’s been a while since it’s been all of us. Mezot still not here?”

“Not yet…” Rasha looked along the street. While there were several people none Anton recognised. “Actually, it’s been a while since it’s just been us. And you promised to help me every day-”

Rasha jumped, nearly launching herself outside. She glared back, Verona stuck her head through the gap, one hand clearly holding Rasha’s thigh.

“I thought you went with them.” Rasha frowned in annoyance. “Since it’s your feathers that they’re dealing with.”

“Not this time. I did offer to go, but Kal and Cetina wanted to go for a walk, so why not let them?” Verona dismissively waved her hand. “They don’t need someone like me interrupting their serious discussions. Probably serious. They can get...What were you saying, Rasha?”

“I…” Rasha glanced at Anton. “I suppose she already knows.”

“About having to milk you every few days?” Anton smiled. “She does now.”

Rasha shook her head, the blue skin turning purple, as Verona made room for Anton.

“Doing it myself doesn’t just feel the same.” Rasha licked her lips. “And it’s been a very long time.”

“So long as you don’t mind Verona watching.” Anton kicked the snow from his boots. “She’s definitely not going to leave us alone.”

Verona’s smile could not get any wider. “No way...I want to see this.”

Rasha shrugged and helped Anton out of his boots, held his hand and dragged him towards her bedroom. Verona followed, almost skipping with delight. Rasha’s room was very sparse, as was most of their rooms, consisting of her reinforced bed and a single cupboard. She sat on the bed and lifted Anton to sit on her leg. He was not given a choice as to where, simply lifted underneath his arms like he was a doll.

“You two just go ahead.” Verona lent against the cupboard, folding her arms and staring intently. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

Rasha was about to retort but thought better of it. She pulled her shirt free, revealing the powerful body beneath. The Arachnid silk bra strained to hold her milk engorged breasts up. The centre was slightly damp, thankfully it was normal milk.

“They’ve been like this for days…”

“Let me help you then.”

Anton removed pulled the thick straps to the sides and pulled down. Her breasts jumped free, droplets of milk slowly seeped out of her swollen nipples.

“Wow…” Verona murmured, biting her lower lip.

Anton began to roughly massage the swollen nubs beneath his hands, after a few seconds his hands were already drenched in thick and slightly sour milk.

“That’s insane…” Verona shook her head, never averting her eyes. “You’re never like this...Look at his little claws curling up.” Verona giggled. “Like he’s really enjoying this.”

“You honestly have no idea.” Anton slipped out of Rasha’s grasp and kissed her deeply. “The strongest person I know is like warm putty in my hands. How could I not enjoy her, especially when she’s so beautiful and kind as well?”

Rasha gripped the back of Anton’s head and began to pull him closer to her chest.

A loud knock on the door stopped everything. Verona’s eye twitched as her foot tapped incessantly.

“Can’t have anything, can we?” She stepped off the bed and rubbed her face. “It might be Kal and Cetina, but if it’s Mezot and Axia then we’re going to have to stop. It’s not right to do this in front of a child.”

Verona giggled as she slowly skipped towards the door. “Even if she’s more than mentally ready…”

Anton’s head tilted back and he met Rasha’s eyes staring down at him. She breathed heavily but he did not see a crazed lust, instead something far more tender. Anton pulled himself up and managed only to kiss her chin. Rasha smiled and returned a flurry of kisses over his forehead, slowly moving down.

“What are you like without a beard?” Rasha stopped after a final peck. She spun him around and rested her chin on his head, despite her hunching over her breasts pushed against his back. “I’ve never actually seen you without one.”

Anton rubbed his short beard. “I think the last time I had it completely shaved off was before heading to Seocuria. Though Verona and Kal do not like it when it gets longer than this. Especially Kal. Cetina...Not so much I think. I don’t think she’d recognise me without this.” Anton raised his arm and rubbed her warm cheek. “What about you?”

“I was just curious.” Rasha pulled him closer. “But whatever you want is fine by me.”

Anton heard the front door open.

“Hey Mezot, Axia.” Verona spoke louder than normal. “How are you both?”

“That’s going to be a halt on our fun.” Anton tried to pull away but he could not make Rasha’s arms budge even a little. He placed his hands on top of hers. “Verona was right.”

“About?”

“About if our genders were reversed.”

“Don’t make me remember that.” Rasha held her face with both hands. Anton took the opportunity to break free but did not leave the bed, instead standing to meet her reddening face. “That was one of the strangest things I’ve heard.”

“I’d still love you.” Anton cupped her cheeks and kissed the base of her horn. Rasha whimpered, biting her lower lip hard. “But we need to get you dressed. Right?”

“...What?” Rasha looked down. “Oh. Shit. Right...Hopefully Verona’s buying us a little time.”

Anton could hear their footsteps slowly coming towards them, far slower than normal.

“Tonight we’ll continue.” Anton picked up Rasha’s shirt as she adjusted her bra. “So try and remember where we stopped.”

Rasha quickly dressed herself and flattened her shirt, giving her body a quick check. She smirked as she wrapped her arm around Anton’s shoulder. “Since we’re not going to have much privacy once our kids are born we’d better get as much done as we can right now...Right?”

“This doesn’t have to stop just because of kids.” Anton kissed the back of her hand. “Far from it. But we’ll just need to make sure that we lock the doors. I don’t want to have to explain why Dad and Mum’s are wrestling.”

“That sounds like something from your world.”

Anton opened the door. Verona, Mezot and Axia stood on the other side, all waiting for them. While Mezot stared blankly, as usual, Axia held a barely restrained smirk. She had guessed what was happening.

“What’s for lunch?” Axia asked. “Or have you three already had your fill?”

Anton ruffled her hair, much to her delight. It was very difficult to keep anything from her, but it was just one of the many joys he had found after arriving in this world. Even if it was only for a few days he would enjoy the peace to the fullest.

Volume 05 - Chapter 62 - Shopping Adventure

Despite only being the morning of the second day of his well-deserved break, Anton was already being asked to do something more than a little odd.

“Shopping?” Anton asked, resting an elbow on his dining table. The early morning sun streamed through the small wooden slat window, giving Anton a bout of extra energy. “You want to go shopping?”

“Yeah.” Calo shrugged lightly. “Something wrong with that?”

“I suppose it is since we don’t have any money.” Sheso added. “We’ll be relying on Anton’s money...Um. Can we trade something for-”

“Don’t even worry about that sort of stuff.” Anton waved them down. The twins visibly relaxed. “Unless you’re planning to spend thousands of gold coins. Which I don’t think you are. Right?”

“No. We want to buy a few things.” Calo put a strange emphasis on her last word. Her eyes even glazed over slightly, back to normal the next moment. “And we really didn’t want to go by ourselves.”

“Are you trying to steal our husband?” Verona playfully rubbed Anton’s arm. “You know he’s got a lot still to do here. And there are more people than just me and Kal that would be upset if you think you can just take him.”

“I do have a mind and will of my own.” Anton said.

Verona stuck out her tongue and returned to her meal.

“I think this is acceptable so long as the next few days of everything being calm.” Anton looked around the table. “Right?”

“Sure.” Kal slowly nodded. She did not wear her boots yet, her clawed feet idly scratched his legs up and down. “So long as you don’t go on any stupid adventures. I don’t have a problem with it.” Kal picked up the cooked piece of meat and ripped it apart with her teeth. “I want to spend a little bit of time here, relaxing. And we can’t do that if we’re on a boat heading towards the capital of Bebbezzar.”

“It’s probably too dangerous to just leave a portal on some rented ship.” Cetina sighed as she idly played with her food. “Right?”

“I don’t think we’re strong enough to do much in the battle itself.” Anton said. “I mean we are, but for a whole country? We need more than just a half dozen. Perhaps in a winter or two we would be strong enough to affect the outcome beyond just the few of us. I don’t like putting everyone at risk, especially when Verona and Kal are stuck here.”

“Only for a little bit longer.” Kal rubbed her stomach. “But surely you could help Bebbezzar without us.”

“It’s just not the same.” Anton held their hands. “Verona always knows how to get people talking and Kal knows when someone’s trying to act suspiciously.”

“You can’t avoid a Feline’s eye.” Kal smiled.

“What were you originally talking about?” Rasha asked.

She said a silent thanks as Zuhura laid a plate of steaming and lightly burnt vegetables. Zuhura returned the smile. She wore her standard Nomad attire, it was apparently quite warm underneath, except that she did not wear her headscarf as she did in Frindal. She kept it wrapped tightly around her neck like a simple scarf. Her hair was still bound up tight beneath the golden netting. Verona had asked for her to let her hair out but Zuhura said she did not like the feeling, especially amongst so many people that were not her family. Verona merely muttered something under her breath and dropped the issue, for now at least.

“Shopping.” Calo laughed. “We wanted to go shopping.”

“Not hear Anton fawn over women who lap up every minor compliment.” Sheso added.

“I seem to recall you two weren’t much better.” Verona chuckled. “No?”

Neither of the twins replied, Anton saw the very tips of their long ears turning faintly red.

“I would like to travel to Alcanares too.” Anton smiled. “I think that I might just want to bring Cetina with me, at the very least. Not that I don’t think that you two aren’t capable in a fight but Cetina isn’t someone that some lowlife thug is going to try and jump.”

“That’s fine.” Calo said. “We’ve been travelled with Cetina for the past little while.”

“Do you think Mezot and Axia should come?”

“Axia will be spending most of her time wrangling her mother.” Anton smiled, glad that neither had joined them yet. “There are many places in Alcanares that sell magical tomes, books and artefacts. I think we could just leave her in one and pick her up at the end of the day.”

“Oh dear.” Cetina mumbled softly.

“But I think we will be enough. Alcanares is still a safe city.” Anton tapped the table. “Despite the chaos that is overwhelming Bebbezzar. If it is no longer we will retreat immediately. Unless it’s something like a bandit or a Revolutionary attack. Otherwise…” Anton sighed as he looked at Cetina. “We still have Atros to worry about, first and foremost.”

“Maybe Thessos will become the new capital.” Cetina laughed. “Wouldn’t that be a strange outcome?”

“If it’s safe it might just be.” Kal smiled. “Your aunt seems to know what she is doing.”

Cetina nodded. “She was always smart. So, Anton, when are we leaving?”

“After we’ve had breakfast and we’ve spoken with Mezot. Calo, Sheso. If you haven’t had anything to eat you are more than welcome to have some of ours. Zuhura cooked quite a lot today, far more than what we should honestly be eating.”

“It’s not often that I get the chance to cook freely.” Zuhura smiled as she prepared plates for the twins, both eyed off the laden plates. “Normally Sultan Hazm would ask for something ridiculous and the other servants and I would almost hit our heads on the wall to try and work something out.”

“Sounds like you got a pretty good deal.” Verona smirked as she leant back into her chair. “If you wanted to go I’m pretty sure they would.”

“That is a wonderful offer, but I need to understand the layout of Atros better. So far I have been escorted everywhere, not that I have ever felt under threat…” Zuhura ran a finger along the hem of her shawl. “Some do look at me strangely. I’m sure it’s the colour, everything seems so muted here. Anyway, I wish to spend my time in Atros learning the city’s layout. If that is acceptable, of course.”

“Of course it is.”

Calo and Sheso took their plates from Zuhura and squeezed into a section beside Rasha and Verona. They had bought a slightly larger table but there was no way they could make it bigger, and Anton didn’t want anyone to sit at another while they were eating. As if they were lesser and not worthy of joining them.

“But I haven’t heard anything from Mezot about the Green Dragon Crystals nor the artefact we found in the Desert Elves Mesa. I don’t think she’s forgotten but she might have become a little too focused on them.”

“I was a little surprised she said she had to return home.” Kal shrugged lightly. “I thought she meant here, but she does have Axia to look after…” Kal smirked. “More like the other way around.”

“They do go very well with each other.” Anton returned the scratch on Kal’s foot. “Even better now that Mezot’s thinking clearer. But we’ll finish this, find out what’s happening and finally go for some shopping. How does that sound?”

---[]---

Anton held the extensive list in his hands. Even the salty Alcanares sea air could not clear his mounting anxiety.

“How much is this going to cost me?” Anton muttered him himself. “Though, I did buy her a Wyrm Heart...I still want to know how that helped her create that ice sea urchin thing.”

He glanced back as the shimmering portal flashed and Calo and Sheso stepped through. They wore their standard Dark Elf attire; thick and loose black clothes that provided warmth and muffled their actions but were surprisingly poor in an actual fight. Both wore an Arachnid silk shirt underneath, provided by their only Arachnid, Ulyaa, which was far superior in strength compared to a cloth or wool gambeson. They had yet to test it in actual combat but Anton sincerely, and rather selfishly, hoped it would not be anyone he knew personally.

Anton ran his finger along the many things on Mezot’s list, shaking his head the further he went down. “This is...The most ridiculous list I have ever seen. But I have no idea if it works or not...Money is to be spent but...I just have no idea if Alcanares even has most, let alone some of these.”

“I would say that she was acting a little odd.” Sheso stretched her arms over her head. “But we have been travelling together for some time. And…”

“She’s really not.” Calo shook her head. Her eyes widened as she ran a hand over her distinctive long ears. “Do you think we should hide these? Like in Frindal?”

“I don’t think it will be necessary. Besides, you’ve been here before and no one’s said anything.” Anton shrugged as he turned back to the paper. “Honestly, I think you look better without doing that. It was a necessity in Frindal but not here.”

“Then we won’t do it.” Calo said adamantly. She folded her arms and nodded seriously. Sheso raised a black brow but did not say anything.

The portal flashed again and Cetina stepped through. She wore her normal armour, he had not seen what happened to her Frindal clothes, with her sword fastened tight to her hip.

“At least here I’m not going to be looked at like I’ve just shat on someone’s grave.”

“That was annoying.” Calo said. “Very annoying.”

“Let’s get going.” Anton opened the door, a rush of fresh salty air washed over them. “Such a shame that Atros isn’t a port town. But then again, I don’t think I would like having to wring salt out of my hair every day. I know the Beast-kin would hate it.”

“As would I.” Cetina smiled. “Mine isn’t long but it doesn’t mean that I don’t try and look after it.”

The twins nodded too. Their wavy hair was seemingly unique amongst the Dark Elves and to have it ruined by salt, of all things, would be a tragedy.

“Perhaps we can get something in Alcanares for that. They do have a lot of things to sell.”

Alcanares looked nearly identical from their rented warehouse on the dock. As they neared the burnt buildings had clearly already been dealt with and the smell of smouldering buildings was replaced with the hearty smell of cooking food and a slightly dirtier smell of burning coal. The port guards barely batted an eye, mainly towards the twins for their dark skin and long ears, but even they did not even ask where they came from.

Inside, however, was a different story. The bustling and thriving city remained but an air of nervousness had crept into the stalls, into the normal customers. They still cried and tried to hawk their wares but undoubtedly something had rattled them.

Either the Revolutionaries are close...Or maybe they’ve received the letter of help from the Royals and are worried what that means. Mercenaries would undoubtedly be flowing out to fight for gold, leaving Alcanares militarily weakened. Perhaps they’re worried about how the Royals will treat them if they win. Alcanares decided to stay neutral, but perhaps being neutral is the same as being hostile, in their minds.

“So where do you want to go first?” Anton looked back only to find the twins standing in front, almost skipping on the spot with happy, expectant faces. “Didn’t we do some shopping in Frindal?”

“But that was mostly you.” Calo said. “Mostly you.”

Sheso smirked. “And the Hamtaro’s don’t count. But today is a bit different. So we’re just going to relax. All of us. Normally we’re going on some sort of ridiculous adventure.”

“That’s true.” Cetina muttered.

“Alright then.” Anton stepped forward. “Lead on. But don’t get too far away. This city doesn’t look as safe as it once did.”

“Then you just need to keep up!” Calo laughed.

The twins stepped towards him, linking their arms with his in one swift motion.

"Cities are always dangerous." Calo pouted. "You honestly weren't going to let us go alone, were you?"

"Of course not." Anton pulled them in as tight as they could before spinning to face Cetina. The twins yelped in surprise but didn't let go of him. Cetina merely shook her head and smiled.

"That's a good idea..." Cetina smiled and stepped closer. "But your bodyguard should be even closer. Right?"

Anton leant forward and kissed her. Cetina was initially surprised but quickly returned it, she began to breathe heavily as their tongues wrestled for dominance.

"Satisfied?" Anton asked as he pulled away. He felt Calo and Sheso squirm in his grip, their fingers gripping tight on his arm but not out of a desire to escape. They looked at one another then to Cetina as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

"For now." Cetina looked around. Some of those walking past had stopped to watch the spectacle, most held some level of smirk as they shook their heads but a few looked on in disgust. "Let's keep moving. Before we get any weirder looks."

Once properly inside Alcanares the nervousness of the people was barely noticeable. If they hadn't come through the port it was likely they would never have known something was amiss.

"So what do you actually want to buy?" Anton had to raise his voice slightly. "Other than just perusing."

"Clothes." Sheso’s voice was oddly light and distant. "We'd like some better clothes."

"These are fine." Calo pulled on the front of her black clothing. "But it always looks like we're about to fight. Since...This is what we normally wear."

"And our other clothes..." Sheso ran a hand over her free hip. "Really, probably, isn't the best for outside."

Anton laughed. "They certainly are eye-catching."

"Dark Elves wear them all the time." Calo smiled widely. "But when others see them-"

"People that aren't used to us." Sheso continued. "They can stare quite a bit."

"Hungrily too." Calo nodded seriously.

"Can't imagine why." Anton shrugged. "It can't possibly be because they're seeing trained men and women wearing basically nothing. Long, toned brown legs...Can't imagine why. Honestly can't."

Calo opened her mouth but quickly shut it.

"Did you just get it?" Anton asked snidely.

"No..." Calo looked away, watching the stores they walked past.

"Regardless, I do think they are very beautiful. Do you think you could get them in some larger sizes?"

"Larger?" Sheso raised a black brow.

Anton looked back to Cetina. “I think it would look good on them. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah…” Calo chuckled. “That would be a sight.”

Anton imagined each of his women trying to wear the Dark Elven clothes, each in their own way trying to cover their bodies, squirming with shame...Except for Verona. She would merely stick out her chest with pride, without a care in the world.

“Surely there is somewhere that sells something like that in here.” Sheso pointed to a distant store, a large store with criers showing off their fine clothes. Anton managed to catch a glance at the prices on display. Nothing was cheap. “That looks like the perfect place to start.”

“What were you imagining us wearing?” Cetina asked. “Are they talking about those clothes that they wore after we’d dealt with the Goblins?”

“Exactly. I’m thinking of getting it a size too small.”

“Why?” Calo asked.

“Trust me. Just trust me.”

The three shared a look, shrugged, and continued towards the distant store. As they neared Anton began to slow. He wasn’t sure how they had missed it but, for some reason, a voice cut over the general hum that the criers voices had merged into. It was not one Anton was inherently familiar with but it still irked him. Cetina lent close and tried her best to follow his eyeline to the side of the busy street. Where a market stall should have sat lay a large raised platform where a man shouted into the crowds, calling for the end of the current oppressive system and other violent calls to join the growing Revolution. A shocking number of those passing by were stopping and listening, those that looked the poorest and had the most to gain from such a radical shift in ideology and economics. Anton hoped it was only out of a sense of morbid curiosity rather than actual interest.

“Something we want to get involved with?” Cetina asked.

“No. No, we can’t stop everything.” Anton continued walking. “Besides, they would have someone new up there in a very short time. And then everything we want to do would become that much harder. Not just from people harbouring revolutionary sympathies but those that want nothing to do with them and would bar us to avert their ire.”

“So long as Alcanares isn’t destroyed in the process I think we’ll be fine.” Sheso’s face slowly contorted into a frown. “Cetina? How is your aunt going to deal with them? Eventually they’re going to make their way to Thessos. I’m sure of it. Doesn’t seem like there’s all that much to stop them.”

“And it appeals to the most vulnerable.” Calo nodded to those who looked little more than beggars and vagabonds, those that stood at the front and listened the most closely. “Shame...They shouldn’t listen to such madness.”

“It’s not entirely madness.” Anton said. “Those that are actually listening.” He nodded to the gathered people around the Revolutionary crier. “If we were in their place...We are incredibly wealthy compared to most people in the entire continent, I think we might just be listening.”

None spoke as they passed the crier, ignoring the frantic but short lived words directed at them until the man turned to toher, more interested targets.

Anton’s eyes were drawn away from the high priced clothing store towards a group pursuing a stall selling long-life food and packaged water. Erico, and his group, politely argued back and forth with the older female stall owner about prices.

“They made it back.” Anton spoke softly. So far they had noticed them approaching. “Do we want to say something?”

“It’ll look worse if we don’t.” Cetina said. “Like we’re trying to avoid them.”

“I’m seriously wondering if they even want to speak to us.” Anton said. “Erico wasn’t in the best moods after...After everything that happened.”

Anton removed his hold of the twins, much to their annoyance, and called for Erico. The Ninja woman, Gioia, standing at the rear, snapped her head towards them, hand on a small dagger, and nudged Erico’s side. He frowned at her, the expression changed when it lay upon them.

War is a very nasty business. I’ve been lucky to have dealt with most of it from afar. But the few times I’ve been up close...Doesn’t seem to affect me so much…

“Hello.” Erico took a measured breath. “Anton. Cetina...I’m afraid that I don’t remember your names.”

“Calo and Sheso.” Anton smiled. “How is your group doing after we parted.”

“Very well.” Sara tapped Melanie’s shoulder and motioned for her to keep bartering. The Crossbow wielder looked far more interested in dealing with them than buying dried meat and hard vegetables. “Very well. A few small odd jobs, mostly dealing with monster and beast attacks that have been growing more frequent as the civil war continues to rage.”

“Hard to control those pests when you’re fighting your fellow man.” Erico scrunched his eyes tight. “I-”

“It was not my intention to try and hurt you by not stopping those people.” Anton waited, making sure that Erico was not about to speak. “But they deserved something for what happened to them.”

“I know.” Erico shrugged. “I’ve killed men and women before...More men, since most bandits are men. But usually it’s quick and painless...Not…” He shrugged again. “So where are the other two?”

“They’re currently resting.” Anton smiled. “This is just a little excursion into Alcanares. A bit of shopping, really.”

“What’s all the food for?” Cetina lent around Anton. The willowy twins turned back and gave a synchronised smile and wave. “Seems a little bit much for a day or so walk from the city. Looks like you’re gearing up for a big adventure, if anything.”

“We are.” Sara smiled. “Though...I am a little nervous, actually.”

“You?” Anton raised a brow. “Even with that crazy gravity magic?”

Sara laughed, nervously tapping her staff. “It is very powerful. But it uses a lot of mana. We’re about to get some mana potions...Such an expensive thing.”

“But necessary.” Gioia said sternly. “If you were no longer able to use your magic we would be in serious trouble. Especially against a numerically superior foe...Which is generally all of them. And this will be no different.”

I doubt Sara would know anything about those Green Dragon Crystals. Mezot’s older and has more knowledge...Perhaps Xiam has libraries...I think that I might just lose Mezot to those pages if we let her go.

“Is that what you’re here for too?” Eirco asked. “Are you signing up?”

“The last time we signed up for anything my companion lost an eye.”

Cetina shrugged. “I can see just fine. But...We did make it to Thessos, by the way.”

“How is it?” Sara stepped forward. “Being so close to the border with the Deweth Clansmen. The stories that we heard were not great.”

“Surprisingly well.” Cetina smiled. “The Clansmen had returned just about everyone...Except one, I think, has been returned. Not as part of a ransom either. I really don’t know what to make of it.”

The Bebbezzarian soldiers that followed them deep into the snow probably has something to do with it. Now that they know they aren’t safe in their wintery home…

“But everything’s doing pretty well. All things considered.”

“Well that’s really good to hear.” Sally smiled, an honest smile, and even Erico looked a little happier. “I’m glad it wasn’t as bad as we thought.”

“And what about you?” Anton asked. “You asked if we were signing up. Signing up for what?”

“The Royals have put out a general call to arms.”

Erico pointed further down the street, towards a small obelisk at the centre of the crossroads. A smattering of guards, different to the normal Alcanares guards; the armour more complete and painted white with gold trim, all wielding matching short spears and a shield with a slot to accommodate the spear, stood around the obelisk. Three people, dressed normally, shouted into the crowd, directing their words at anyone with weapons and armour, anyone that could pass as a soldier.

“They’re desperate if they’re coming this far to recruit people.” Anton mused. “We’re a decent way from the capital…”

“Santaría.” Cetina said.

“Santaría…” Erico looked to the obelisk and the Royal recruiters. “I’ve only been there once but I remember that it was a very beautiful place.”

“Are you going to join?” Sara asked.

“They are paying extremely well.” Gioia said. She snorted, the face veil pulled tight against her nose. “Not that they have much choice. Gold means nothing in death.”

“True...Very true.” Anton looked to the Royal Recruiters. “Though I think that there are many that try.”

“True.” Gioia’s eyes softened, he was certain that she was smiling beneath her veil.

“But we have given it some thought.” Anton glanced at Cetina. She didn’t seem too thrilled by the idea. “But...We are a little stretched thin at the moment. We have a number of other projects...So no. There would only be a few of us, not to mention I’m a still a little bit concerned about fighting a Principle Mage of Mezot’s calibre, which I’m sure could be in the employ of a Merchant Prince. Even Axia would be quite messy...And it’s all over when you die, obviously.”

And I have no idea if the Royals are even any good. Under their rule the country fell into a civil war...I guess I could say the same about Qaiviel and King Leo. It’s not something that we’ve really discussed. Qaiviel had direct implications for Atros, if Harold won, but Bebbezzar is so far away. This would be something to discuss with the Council.

“Anton?” Calo tapped his arm.

“Sorry. But I don’t think we’re going to sign up. For now, at least. But...You understand that you’d be killing humans. And not just bandits. Soldiers. Professional soldiers. Not to mention farmers and peasants pressed into service.”

“I understand.” Erico said sternly. “I understand...Doesn’t mean I like it, but it is paying extremely well. More than we would normally make in...Yeah. A very long time.”

“Mercenaries are often looked at as disposable.” Anton said, receiving an odd look from Eirco. “To your employers, the only reason that you are fighting for them is gold. And that’s all. Not to mention it would be advantageous to them for you to die, after completing your objective, so they don’t need to pay you.”

“It is something that we have considered.” Gioia gently nodded. “Something that does not occur during most of our missions. One of the advantages of dealing with beasts and monsters. Our employers would rather us die than them.”

“That’s a little macabre.” Anton muttered. Sara and Gioia glumly agreed.

“That it is.” Eirco smile returned. “So just shopping? What could Dark Elves want in Bebbezzar? Surely you have all the clothes and food you could want in The Shadow Isles?”

“We’re still pretty thin.” Calo slapped her stomach. “But there are a few things that we cannot get there.”

“Like what?” Sara’s brows furrowed.

The twins lent forward. “It’s a secret.”

Anton smiled. “They’ve been like that all day. But...” His eyes were drawn to a small store to the side. A dejected man slowly trundled out and hanged a sing on the front. A sign that said they were going out of business. “I thought everything would be booming, with the war happening. At least for now.”

Sara followed his sight until it rested upon the store owner. “For a little while. But it’s difficult for business to thrive when half of your customers are dead, and the other half heavily armed, hungry and have no qualms about violence.”

“What are you thinking?” Cetina nudged his side. “I can tell from that look you’re planning something.”

“We have more money than him.” Calo muttered. “Especially...Especially if he’s closing his shop.”

“I want as many sources of income as I can.” Anton began. “And I don’t just mean...” His eyes flicked back to Erico and his companions, all waiting patiently. “That mine. I want coins as well. And I don’t fancy myself as a thief.”

Melanie scoffed. “You won’t get rich doing that here. Everyone’s poor, or has enough wealth to hire someone like us to deal with it.”

Sara and the Willowy twins threw her odd looks but Anton agreed.

“So I want to make another line of money. One that takes care of itself and just brings us money. I really don’t care if it doesn’t make all the money that it possibly could, but a decent stream of copper and silver coins would be nice.” Anton touched a hidden pouch. “At least everyone would stop staring at us when we have to ask for change.”

“And your plan?” Cetina asked dryly.

“An idea from another place.” Anton winked at Cetina. She understood but Calo and Sheso were still a little lost. “One that I know will make tonnes of money. Erico? That guild that you introduced us to. Are there young women that are in need of work?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to start up a brothel.” Erico laughed nervously. Cetina grabbed Anton’s side hard. “And it looks like there’s a few people that don’t want that either.”

“Not a brothel.” Anton gently tapped Cetina’s hand. “But it is in the same area, so to speak.”

---[]---

Calo and Sheso gave each other wary looks. They held the contents of their shopping, two large bags each, between them, as they turned their attention back to Anton and Cetina.

“Is this what you meant?” Calo asked, shuffling closer. “This whole thing seems...”

“A bit like one of Verona’s plans?” Anton looked up from the box of silver and copper coins. Cetina muttered under her breath as she counted the coins, placing them into neat stacks on the table. “I’ll admit that it certainly does sound like one of hers, but I can assure you that this comes straight from my memories.”

“You remember something?” Sheso asked excitedly. “Do you remember where you come from? Is it Graterious? Or somewhere much further away.”

Calo scoffed and gently shook her head. A sly smile finally broke through her face. “I don’t know where it is, but I know Verona would love to see this.”

She nodded towards the open store. The dejected store owner was more than a little dubious at Anton’s suggestion to open a restaurant, of sorts, but when the gold coins were floated before him his mind changed immediately. Whatever doubt remained was washed away when he offered the man a very generous portion of the profits for himself.

Anton smiled and leant back. “She is going to be jealous when she learns about this.”

Before them almost a hundred workers sat on stools, stood against bars and enjoyed a simple meal of steaming hot chips, battered fish and ice cold beer. While this world had potatoes, many of which he had cooked for Rasha, there didn’t seem to be anyone that was slicing them up and cooking them in boiling oil. He still remembered the look of the first customer, wary of a new product but instantly in love with it the moment he bit through the crunchy outer layer. The ice cold beer, cooled by a Cold Stone, only added to the novelty. But there was one extra ingredient that helped to attract so many within an hour of opening.

Between the tables fluttered young women carrying plates and mugs of cold beer, all of whom wore very little. While they weren’t naked, each wore a small pair of shorts and essentially a sports bra, there was little left to the imagination. Merely the word of such a place attracted attention. Male attention mostly, but it didn’t matter from where the coins flowed, only that it did.

“Look, but no touch.” Anton smiled. “That’s the rule here.”

“But with alcohol...” Cetina muttered as she finished arranging a stack. “We’re going to have to put a bit of this back into hiring security.”

Anton nodded to the open front door, where the smell of freshly cooked fish and chips wafted out into the streets to lure in more customers. Either side stood two burly older men. Though their beards had greyed and they lacked some fingers, they were far, far stronger than most of the compatriots.

“Old mercenary veterans looking for easy pay.” Anton smiled at the twins, both of whom merely tilted their heads. “And they’re well liked by the staff too. What innocent young girl doesn’t want a powerful daddy to look out for them?”

Calo and Sheso silently raised their hands. Cetina began to laugh, desperately clamping her mouth shut but it was a loosing battle.

“But you two are older than me.” Anton folded his arms. “You’re probably as old as Rasha-”

A startled yelp echoed throughout the restaurant, cutting through the raucous conversation. A waitress furiously patted down her rear. A clearly drunk man tried reaching for her rear once again. Before he could move but an inch he was set upon by security. He wouldn’t stand a chance when they were sober, let alone when so intoxicated. Only a single punch was thrown before he were disarmed and dragged from the restaurant kicking and screaming. The waitress held the empty plate to her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief once they were outside. Once they had passed through the doors the normal conversations and tempo returned. The only mention of their passing were a few rude gestures and laughs before they were swiftly forgotten. Both men returned while holding a coin purse. One returned to the counter while the other checked on the waitress. She seemed fine, more startled than anything, but kept a slender hand on his chest for a very long time.

“See? They’re doing fine.”

“And how much have we made so far?” Calo asked. “I’m not into...Money?”

“Economics?” Sheso offered.

“Yes...Eco...” Calo frowned at her sister. “How did you-Anyway, Economics. How are we doing?”

“Alright.” Cetina smiled as another small bag of copper and silver coins was dropped off at their table by a waitress. She winked at Cetina before scampering away. “Was that for me?”

Cetina shrugged. “Anyway, I’m not into women like that. But...But we are doing extremely well. We’ve more than made up our investment, which was quite a bit, and almost everything here will be profit. After we’ve paid the workers, obviously. We can’t expect them to work for nothing but well still make a good profit.”

Cetina lent back into the chair and nudged Anton’s side. “You’re right. At least now we won’t have to try and explain why we’re using Kar Kingdom coins. Gold coins at that.”

“Yes...It is good.” Anton looked out the door. The shadows were almost non-existent as the sun lay directly overhead. “But we’ve stayed here long enough. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Verona and Kal haven’t said anything.” Cetina placed a hand below her neck, where her necklace lay.

Anton smiled. “They trust us. But I do think it is time we were leaving.” He nodded to the busy crowds. “There’s not much more for us to do here. Anything else would just be interfering. Micro-managing. And I’m sure that my Bebbezzarian bodyguard would say that’s a terrible thing.”

Cetina nodded once as she collected the coins and locked the small chest.

“Excuse me.” A man came towards them, the former store owner. “Are-Are you leaving?”

“We are.” Anton tapped Calo and Sheso’s legs. They eagerly picked up their shopping and held it close to their chests. “There’s nothing more for us to do here, so we’re going to leave everything in your capable hands. Is...Is that a problem?”

“No. No, of course not.” The man nervously laughed. “I was just surprised that you would be so willing to give someone like me another chance.”

“Everyone deserves another chance. And I didn’t have time to go through all the paperwork and rigmarole of getting permission to open a store here. And you will be making quite a tidy profit from this yourself. No?”

“Of course.” The man smiled. “I will do my utmost to make this as profitable as possible.”

Anton stopped and raised his finger. “Just make sure that you’re moving more product before thinking of raising prices.” He nodded to the crowded restaurant floor. “Most people are here because it’s cheaper than anywhere else. Even at these prices we’re make a decent profit, but if you raise it you might just scare some people away.”

“I understand.”

“Oh. And no sleeping with the staff.” Anton winked. “That’s a very good way to lose the waitresses. And without them I just don’t think it would be the same. Do you?”

“No...No I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” The man looked to one of the waitresses. Anton knew it was a blatant lie, no one’s eyes would linger on a rear for that long if they were not interested in the tiniest amount. “I don’t particularly want to sleep on the streets again.”

Anton merely patted him on the shoulder as he walked past. Cetina did not immediately follow him.

“Make sure that you detail all of your income and expenditure.” She spoke sternly. “We will be checking them, and will have someone drop in from time to time. I don’t think you need to be told what would happen if you steal from us.”

She tapped the hilt her sword. The man quickly nodded, a bead of sweat ran down his face, as Cetina walked past, Calo and Sheso right behind.

Not every day you’re threatened by an eyepatch female swordsman. Then again, if you do the right thing by us then you’ve got nothing to worry about. I do wonder what Verona’s going to say? Probably make this the first place she’s going to visit when she comes back to Bebbezzar.

Anton found himself smiling as Cetina stopped behind him.

I wonder if any of that’s going to rub off on our children? Only the Gods would know.

---[]---

The salty air of Alcanares faded away, replaced by the cold crisp air of Atros. Cetina stepped through next, with the small chest of silver and bronze coins held tight in her hands.

“I’m surprised we made that much.” Cetina stood next to Anton. She opened the chest and gently jingled the coins. “It’s not as much as a silver mine.”

“At least now we don’t have to worry about using just gold coins all the time.” Anton picked up a silver plate. “Everyone gives me these weird looks when I try and use them. No wonder, really. It’s like I’ve just waved more money than most have seen in their entire lives. Especially if we’re trying to buy something like food.”

“True…” Cetina took the silver plate back. “Very true.”

Rasha stood at the far end of the portal room. She smiled and waited for them to emerge fully.

“Everything has been calm?” Anton asked. The portal behind him flashed white, Calo and Sheso stepped through with their bags of clothes.

“So far. But that’s what you want. Right?”

“Yes.” Anton slowly smiled. “It is. I know everyone was talking about having a few relaxing days...But it really is a strange feeling when I’ve finally stopped.” Anton rubbed his arms. “Almost like I don’t really know what to do. Everything’s going rather well. Like...Like I don’t like that feeling.”

Rasha smirked. “I think Cetina would say that’s the wrong thing to say.”

“Almost certainly. Calo? Sheso? That was everything you wanted?”

“It was.” Calo slyly looked to her sister. “Didn’t expect Anton to be a cook, but you learn something new about him each time you travel with him.”

“Guess you know a fair bit then.”

Rasha tried her best to hide her displeasure. Almost everywhere outside of Atros was forbidden to her To see what he saw, having to rely on the stories told and her own imagination. It would still be some time before she could freely walk beyond the walls of Atros.

“I guess.” Sheso shrugged. “But there’s not much to talk about when you’re watching endless dunes of sand. Rocking back and forth on the backs of those giant beetles.”

“Giant beetles?” Rasha chuckled. “I can’t imagine what seeing nothing but sand would be like.” She looked towards the door. “Just like I couldn’t imagine seeing snow for the first time either.”

“Anton.” Calo stepped forward. “We’ve got what we wanted. But we haven’t had a chance to show you them.”

“No...No. You seemed to not want me to have a look earlier.” Anton leant closer and tried to peek in. “Why? It cost a fair amount, all things considered. Surely I deserve a little peek.”

The twins pulled away, giggling and smiling.

“It would ruin the surprise.” Sheso said. “But we would like to show you something.” She bounced the small bag. “And these are a part of it. You’ve done more for the Dark Elves than anyone else.”

“Especially for our clan.” Calo continued. “We would have all been killed.”

“Little more than skin and bone.” Sheso laughed. “We were very, very thin when you all found us.”

Honestly you are still quite thin. Though that’s a good thing.

“So we thought it was about time that we repaid you.” Calo’s smile looked almost identical to Verona’s when she was scheming something, so too did Sheso’s. “And we’ve been with you longer than Mezot and almost as long as Rasha, and yet-”

A loud knock on the door stopped Calo. She grumbled underneath her breath as Rasha gave a small smile as she moved to the door.

“There’s always something in the way.” Anton mused as he smiled.

Calo clicked her tongue but still smiled. “It’s for a very advanced Dark Elf technique. One that is said to be able to woo over any man, no matter who or what they may think about them.”

“Our mother told us this.” Sheso said. “So I know it will work.” Sheso chuckled nervously and raised her hand. “No drugs, or anything like that. Nothing bad. But...I think we need these to make sure that we are prepared.”

Let’s not mention the small fact that your mother had an affair and got pregnant. I wonder how they’re doing?

Rasha returned with a Dwarf behind her.

“My Lord Anton.” The Dwarf bowed low. “Please forgive the interruption but I was told to find you no matter what. I have been told to tell you that the sealed door is readied to be opened at any time.”

“It took them so long.” Cetina said. “Not that I doubt the Dwarves abilities, of course.”

Anton glanced at the twins. “When we’ve worked through whatever we’ve found behind that door, we’ll talk more about what you’ve got there. Alright?”

“Okay.” The twins replied in unison.

“Better prepare some Dark Elf warriors.” Cetina straightened her back, resting her hand on the pommel of her sword. “We don’t know what’s lurking behind that thing. The Blood Hammer Dwarves sealed it for a reason.”

“These will just have to wait.” Sheso smiled and waved as they ran for door. “We’ll get everyone ready. Hopefully it’s nothing too serious.”

“Maybe a pile of old weapons and gold.” Calo laughed. “Then we really wouldn’t have lost anything. Wait for us by the portal to the Dwarves. We’ll be back soon!”

The twins gave Rasha a quick nod as they passed, their black cloaks billowing behind as they ran into the snow.

“They’ve got a lot of energy.” Rasha gently jabbed his shoulder, though gently for her was quite hard for a normal human. “But I’m sure you’ll do something about that. Right?”

“Like you?” Anton winked and gave her hand a squeeze. “But we need to focus. Cetina’s right. The Blood Hammer Dwarves sealed that place for a reason.”

“You don’t want to wait for those weapons of yours?” Cetina asked.

“No. We’ll be fine. We’ll have the Dwarven warriors and Dark Elven archers with us. Not much can get through that. We’ll have more than enough strength to see through any obstacle.”

“You can count on us.” Rasha thumped her armoured chest. “Don’t worry about that.”

Anton pushed aside the thoughts of Calo and Sheso as he looked to his feet. Though he was more than interested he was a little anxious. Just what had the Blood Hammer Dwarves sealed away and why did their Thane abandon his people to make sure it shut, the piles of desiccated food and rotting crates of wood. In a few moments he’d know.

Volume 05 - Chapter 63 - The Depths Open

“The last seal is about to break.” The Master Smith yelled. “Is everyone ready?”

A small detachment of Atros’s guards, Human and Beast-kin, backed up with two lines of Dwarves and Dark Elves, led by Calo and Sheso, stood in front of the massive magically sealed door at the end of the long corridor in the Blood Hammer hold. Anton readied several Large Fire Imps, alongside Verona, Cetina and Rasha readying their respective weapons. Mezot and Axia behind them with their staffs held tight. Kal stood with them, ready to act as a healer if the worst should happen.

“Open it up,” Anton yelled.

Umikgruid moved behind the lines of armoured Dwarves. The solitary Master Smith took a deep breath, stroked his beard while whispering something and broke the last seal. A flash of orange light rippled out from the centre, draining the faint light from the strange geometric patterns adorning the mighty stone door. He ran back to the lines just as the final flicker of light faded away. With a heavy groan the door began to open. A waft of strange air, not entirely stagnant but filled with a strange earthiness and…mould rushed out along with a faint green-grey light filtering through the gap.

Anton readied the Large Fire Imps to attack but he didn’t find the giant Insects on the other side. Instead, he saw a single person. A person frozen in terror.

Instantly Anton knew something was wrong. The young boy, at least that’s what Anton presumed he was, had incredibly pale skin, similar to Verona’s but more translucent rather than just being stark white. His clothes, a light yellowy brown, shimmered and bent like the finest silk. But it was his hair that immediately caught everyone's attention. His long bright red and orange locks flowed like it was alive, flicking and bending back and forth as he strained to see through his fingers, blocking out their light.

“He’s on fire!” Verona yelled. “Someone-”

The boy screamed an ear-piercing shriek, dropping a pile of stones from his other hand and ran for his life. A ramshackle wooden barricade immediately behind him barely impeded his movements.

“The gate is open!” He screamed, over and over. “The gate is open!”

Everyone was so confused they simply let the young boy flee.

“Someone please explain,” Verona said loudly.

“The boy was scared?” Calo offered, shrugging lightly. “I…I don’t understand.”

“Fire Elves,” Anton said softly. “A Fire Elf…Born in Esperit’s image.”

“They were destroyed before the United Empire.” Umikgruid frowned. “And they’ve been living here, happily all this time?”

“I don’t know about happily.” Anton rubbed his chin. “But that boy had silk clothes…”

“And no shoes,” Kal added softly. “Pale feet covered in dirt.”

“Indeed.”

“Do we advance?” Cetina asked.

“I…No. Not yet. You saw how terrified that boy was. Since Fire Elves are supposed to have the same lifespan as humans.” Anton turned to Calo and Sheso. “Dark Elves live twice as long as us, but that alone means there are definitely others. If there weren’t he wouldn’t have acted like that.”

“Are we related?” Sheso asked. “I didn’t see their ears but our hair doesn’t do that.”

Both twins ran a hand through their wavy jet black hair. Even with the constant stream of Dark Elves from the Shadow Isles they were the only ones with anything but dead straight hair.

“Should we not advance just a little?” Umikgruid asked.

“Only to where the door once stood,” Anton ordered. “No one is to take a step further than that. Keep your shields up though. If they’re elves I’m certain they’ll be excellent marksmen."

Anton summoned a small Fire Ball, turning it as bright as possible. The wooden barricade wasn’t as ramshackle as he first thought. It was rather well built, merely rotten and degraded with age and neglect. Damp large metal spikes adorned the outside, all clearly designed to deal with some very large attackers, like some sort of giant Insect. Barren stone laid behind the barricade, a slightly smoother road leading into the darkness. Only scattered blue and orange mushrooms, growing in small depressions alongside the road, broke up the monotonous grey stone.

“Oh…” Verona tugged on his hand. “There’s light in the distance. Do you think there’s some hole to the surface?”

A dim white light illuminated the far end of the twisting cavern. What was making it was impossible to tell.

“Well, we’re near the grasslands to the north of Mount Aspire. It could be possible. But I don’t like the implication that rainwater would come crashing down into…Whatever this place is.”

“Might as well get some rest,” Umikgruid said to the Dwarves. “I get the feeling that things will get very busy soon.”

---[]---

While a rotation of the soldiers hurriedly ate their meals Anton kept his attention clearly focused towards the light, waiting for something to happen. He hoped there was more than just the young boy and they were waiting in vain. Even with Anton’s fireball it was incredibly dark and eerie just a few meters inside.

“Something’s coming,” Kal said. She hadn’t moved, keeping a tight hold of his hand as she peered into the darkness with her eye enchantments. “Lights. A lot of them. But it isn’t fire.”

“That boy’s hair gave off light,” Anton mumbled. “Not much, but some.”

“Everyone up,” Eider said loudly. As Jeff was not present she had taken de-facto control of the Human and Beast-kin soldiers. It also helped that they were thinking the same thing.

The lights were now visible to everyone, hundreds of small light green lanterns moving through the darkness. Between those Anton could see the small red lights from their flaming hair, though it was dampened by a helmet.

The lanterns began to dim as they approached the last hundred or so meters but he could still see their hair. Evidently Fire Elves were not built for subterfuge or even night battles.

“Who goes there?” A light voice yelled out, a hint of cracking near the end. Whomever he was he wasn’t used to speaking loudly.

“Anton of Atros. Who am I speaking to?”

“Why have you opened the door?” A Fire Elf, the majority of his form still obscured by the shadows, moved closer. “Blood Hammer Dwarves. Is the threat finally gone? What took you so long?”

Anton turned to Umikgruid.

“We,” Umikgruid stepped forward. “We are not Blood Hammer Dwarves.”

Instantly the Fire Elves readied their small bows. Anton doubted their arrows would just bounce off harmlessly.

“Where are they?!” The voice cracked more harshly this time.

“They’re dead.” Umikgruid sighed lightly. “Every single one of them. Some giant Insect creatures killed them. And we found the Hold Lord here, just in front of this sealed door.”

The Fire Elves murmured amongst themselves.

“Why has it taken the United Empire so long to retake these holds? We’ve been down here for generations…”

“I do not know,” Anton replied. “How long have you been down here?”

“Generations. We…I do not know.”

Strange that their language hasn’t changed…No. Without outside interference and tight internal control there might not be a reason for it to change.

“Well…I don’t know how to say this delicately but the United Empire is no more.” Anton heard murmurs throughout their lines. “It fell some time ago, and the Kingdom that followed them, in the lands above, had no knowledge about you or the Dwarves. We stumbled up the Blood Hammers hold by sheer chance.”

“So…” The Fire Elf stopped himself. “So why did you open the door?”

“Because we’re reclaiming the hold. And we wanted to know what was inside.”

“You didn’t think to find out before?”

“The Blood Hammers were very careful to not leave any trace of you behind.” Anton wasn’t entirely about the validity of his words but carried on regardless. “We’re presuming that they wanted to make sure that you were safe…And that you couldn’t leave before things were made safe out here.”

The Fire Elf leader grumbled. “Well…Wait…Are those Elves?”

“I-”

An arrow flew at the Dark Elves. Anton threw up a lightning shield to obliterate the small piece of wood, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Calo and Sheso ordered their Elves behind shields, not that they needed encouragement.

“What was that for?!”

“Nithroel’s spawn!”

“You’re elves too!” Verona shouted, summoning her blood shards.

“We cast off her touch the moment we entered these caverns. Never will we be her pawns! The Dark Elves were always her favourite assassins.”

Anton glanced down to the Dark Elf twins. Both were equally confused and horrified by the suggestion.

“We’re not assassins.” Calo pleaded. “Well…You know what I mean.”

“No Dark Elf ever heard a reply from Nithroel.” Sheso continued. “They prayed for a response but heard nothing. They pleaded to all the Old Gods but heard nothing.”

“Except for Ceccitol,” Kal added softly.

“I believe you.” Anton patted their heads. “Nithroel’s favourite toys are the Wood Elves.”

Anton turned to the worried Fire Elves. “Nithroel has cast off the Dark Elves! She no longer has any sway over them. I can assure you of that.”

The Fire Elf lines fell silent. Anton motioned for Verona to lower the blood shards, just to demonstrate they were backing down.

Strange they didn’t mention anything about the Beast-kin. It’s impossible to miss Rasha...Not a question for now.

“Our…Apologies for attacking.” The Fire Elf leader stepped forward. “Our teachings always said any Elf was not to be trusted.”

Anton didn’t want to point out the obvious.

“Is it possible that you could come out?” Anton asked. “We have much to discuss.”

The leader stopped at the division, refusing to take another step forward. His face was somewhat gaunt, from lack of nutrition, his red eyes stared into Anton from underneath a helmet made from a chitinous insect shell, different to the giant Insects that once roamed the Dwarven Hold. Their armour was a mixture of flat insect plate mixed with multiple layers of silk, so too were their boots. An odd appearance.

What sort of resources do they have access to here? Insects and silk? Those two might go hand in hand.

“We cannot.” The Leader pointed to the division. “This cavern shields us from Nithroel. If we were to take a single step out she would find us.”

That explains the supplies left outside.

“Is there any possibility we can come inside?” Anton asked. “Somewhere where we could talk without having to shout across barricades.”

“We have an old border fortress nearby. It hasn’t been used in some time but it should serve our needs.”

“So long as you don’t attack us again then I don’t have a problem with that.” Anton turned to the Dark Elves. “Will it be better for the Dark Elves to remain here?”

“We’ll be fine,” Calo said with determination. “We won’t do anything silly. None of our people have.”

The Fire Elf leader shuffled awkwardly.

“Very well. Lead on, please.”

Slowly their forces passed through the division. The moment Anton stepped through he felt something pressing down upon him, the Fire Imps began to struggle to move and even stay on their feet. Something was ripping the magic from their bodies. Anton poured more mana into them but it was only filling a leaking bottle with more water. Anton tried to create a small fireball, the small ball burst into life but required easily three to four times as much mana. Verona and Kal were suffering too but doing their best not to show it. Rasha was fine but Cetina began to stumble as she walked, hitting small stones on the ground. Anton offered his hand, one Cetina politely declined as she whispered something to Rasha. Anton looked up, the ceiling, the parts he could see were metallic, a white hexagonal geometric pattern covered the dull grey.

Gliyrhil! This…This entire cavern is lined with Ghlyirl. No wonder we’re having so much trouble. No, it’s natural Gliyrhil. That’s why the Fire Elves were moved here. This is the only place that Nithroel wouldn’t be able to find them.

“Mezot. Axia. Wait here.” Anton pointed to the ground. “Your magic isn’t going to work in here. So I want you to remain outside, where you can still cast your magic.”

“Are you sure?” Mezot held her staff tight. “I...Alright.”

Anton gave both a gentle wave and continued to follow the Fire Elves.

Up close Anton could see their bows held tight in the silk gloved Fire Elves, small compound bows made from hundreds of white strands bundled and twisted together. Their swords were metal, old and chipped, with a handle made from the same insectoid carapace hide with much smaller scales. A young insect perhaps.

The barricade was removed, the Fire Elves inadvertently broke several pieces of old wood, and led them a few hundred meters towards a small stone and wood fortress. The ground wasn’t made entirely of Gliyrhil, though the dull grey metal ran in great rivers through the rough stone either side of a smooth but disused path leading away from the gate.

The Ghlyirl doesn’t look that natural here…How much effort was expended to create this?

“What are your lanterns?” Anton asked a nearby Fire Elf.

His flaming hair glowed in intensity and flickered more violently. Anton smiled, the soldier looked a little nervous.

“Do you have any control over your hair?”

“It reacts to our emotions.” The leader said, angrily glaring at the flustered soldier. “Not even the most controlling and calm person can entirely calm the flames within our hearts.”

“Is it actually hot?” Verona asked. She reached out but was too far away to feel anything.

“No. No, it’s not.”

They carried on in silence until they reached the small fort, a mixture of stone and wood built around three Gliyrhil stalagmites reaching high into the air, almost reaching the roof.

“This fortress hasn’t been used since the gate closed.” The leader mused, ordering the small gate open. “Well, I’m sure they kept it manned for some time afterwards but not during my lifetime.”

“And the boy?” Anton idly asked. He glanced around the interior, it reminded him of a fortified trading post.

The Leader sighed. “He came this far looking for Curas. A type of mushroom. Anyway, his mother will be giving him a decent beating for coming this far. Most are forbidden from passing The Bend.”

Anton looked over a ruined section, the cavern performed a harsh ninety-degree bend, to where the white-blue light reflected off the far Gliyrhil covered wall.

“I’ll send a messenger.” The Leader summoned a lithe Fire Elf. “Tell them what’s happened and to summon a diplomat. I’m not equipped to deal with something like this.”

The Fire Elf saluted and darted away.

“You’re oddly calm that the door has been breached,” Anton said. “If it was supposed to be holding something back…”

“We’ve been trained every day for this eventuality. And we are extremely quick.”

Kal pulled on his sleeve, pointing to the leader’s hands. They shook, only by holding his elbows was it hidden. The other soldiers were equally nervous.

“We don’t even know your name.”

“Wahyu.”

“Well, Wahyu, why don’t we have a seat? I’m sure it’s going to take a little while before this diplomat arrives.”

---[]---

Anton tried his best to extract information from the Fire Elves but they were very tight-lipped. Not even Verona, who tried her best to flaunt her body, could get much from them. Every Fire Elf was very slim, their exposed skin hid bodies that were even more starved than the Green Moon Clan. Verona wasn’t fat but she would probably considered obese in their society, to think nothing of what they thought of Cetina and Rasha.

They were allowed anywhere within the small fortress so Anton took to a wall to get a better view. He couldn’t tell if it was a natural cave or how much work had been undertaken to line it with Ghlyirl. Probably a mixture of the two, several parts of the roof were almost perfectly flat, not something that happened naturally in a cave, while everywhere else looked and flowed naturally. Beyond the fortress, he could see a few pools of dark water, a yellow and white mushroom growing along the edge of the perfectly still and clear water alongside small patches of a pale green moss. Otherwise the entire area was dark, devoid of life and anything of interest.

However, the Fire Elves attitude continued to interest him. They were clearly excited to see the Dwarves and were incredibly wary of the Dark Elves, understandable, but they still had not asked a single thing about the presence of the Beast-kin. There were more than just Kal and Rasha present and yet they barely batted an eye towards them.

“They don’t seem concerned with some of us,” Verona said softly, delicately leaning against the half rotten railing. She nodded to Cetina and Rasha, waiting at the base of the small wooden staircase. “But I can tell you were already thinking that.”

She tapped her ring. “I tried to talk with you through this and nothing happened.”

Anton tried but Verona shook her head.

“Well…That’s going to make things very annoying. I imagine the Communication Pens aren’t going to work then.”

“Shame…” Verona sighed. “Just looking at these people…They need a good feed.”

“They haven’t told us what they eat,” Kal said softly. She pointed to a group far away from the other Fire Elves. “But they keep reaching for something on their back. I wonder if those mushrooms taste nice.”

Anton’s eyes noticed a change in light from around the corner, a much larger procession was arriving.

“I’m sure this diplomat will be able to explain more.” Anton smiled. “They’ll have to work around all sorts of strangeness. Hell, they might think shaking someone’s hand is an insult…But they’ve got to take it with a straight face.”

Anton watched the approaching procession, travelling down the single flat road, illuminated by both their living flaming hair and the strange green lanterns. He had not managed to get his hands on one, for diplomatic reasons, but it appeared to be luminescent moss.

“Lord Anton,” Wahyu shouted up, his voice was still light but no longer cracked. “The Diplomat is here…At least I hope it is.”

If it’s an army, doesn’t look like it, then we’re actually quite weak. Relatively speaking of course. But let's hope for the best.

---[]---

“Greetings.” The diplomat bowed deeply. “Wahyu has informed me of what has transpired.”

The diplomat wore a suit, of a sort, made entirely from the red silk. He was just as thin as the additional soldiers he had brought with him. If he was a diplomat, someone generally relatively high up in social and political strata, then things were very dire.

He looked up, his eyes flashed towards the open gate. Light streamed through, tiny weak shadows cast by the growing numbers of soldiers sent after them as reinforcements. They didn’t enter but were ready to move at a moment’s notice. That made the Fire Elves even more nervous. As they couldn’t leave they were extremely vulnerable, essentially at their mercy should Anton and Atros prove hostile.

“My name is Bilaal.” Bilaal motioned towards a wooden table and two seats situated either side. “I…I believe we have much to discuss.”

“Indeed.” Anton moved to his chair. “We weren’t expecting to find a race long thought dead in a Dwarven hold.”

Before taking his seat the Diplomat wiped the chair twice and walked around it once. Anton hesitated before taking his, in fear of causing offence, but the Diplomat would understand they didn't know. Anton simply took his as their respective leaders took up position behind them.

Bilaal’s fingers nervously tapped on his leg. After speaking with such calm conviction was he now doubting himself? Were humans in the United Empire in a higher position than the Fire Elves? Possibly, given their subterranean lives after the destruction of their kingdom at Nithroel's hand, but that shouldn’t have been carried through the generations. Anton had no desire to drag out this man’s potential distress.

“I think we should start with the basics.” Anton rested his hands on the table. “I know that the Fire Elves were destroyed by Nithroel, though obviously not entirely, and that the United Empire and the Blood Hammers gave you refuge in this cavern. What I want to know is how have the Fire Elves managed to survive without any outside help.”

“It has been a long time since that day happened but I have been taught it many times.” Bilaal took a deep, calming breath. “The United Empire brought the survivors of Nithroel’s attack to these caverns and furnished them with everything we could possibly need. We grow all of our food, clean our water and build and repair our buildings. And we have continued this way for generations.”

“Why haven’t you tried opening the door?”

“The Hold Lord, at least the stories go, one day shut the doors. He was covered in blood and wounds, clasping his arm tight as he told the Fire Elves on guard to never open the door. Under any circumstances. Before they could ask anything he shut the door as something screamed behind him. If the Hold Lord did that then we should listen to him. As the generations passed we slowly retreated from the door and ensuring it remained closed. If it hadn't opened before now why should it suddenly open?"

We kind of did that.

“No trade with the outside world…It seems that many of your people look a little thin.” Anton nodded to the soldiers. “Even you look a little hungry.”

Bilaal nodded. “Currently there is an overpopulation epidemic in the southern quarters. The King and Queen aren’t willing to send in the soldiers to deal with the issue, so resources are being stretched while we sterilise those that haven’t followed proper birth control measures.”

Didn't expect that. But if there are too many people, and I doubt they can expand their industry and what passes for agriculture too much…Remove the excess people rather than letting everyone starve and the Fire Elves die out. A cull of people…I’m glad I’m not having to make that decision.

“We might be able to help there, with food, not necessarily with the sterilisation.” Anton raised his hand. “I understand that you have your reasons. But I would like to see what lies beyond that bend.”

“That might be difficult for the Dark Elves,” Bilaal said softly.

“Perhaps. But they are citizens of Atros and will not be discriminated against.”

“It might make things more difficult in the short term.” Bilaal scratched his ear. “But so long as they remain at the centre of your…procession, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Calo and Sheso breathed a sigh of relief.

Anton looked to Kal then to Rasha. “You don’t seem to have a problem with the Beast-kin.”

“Why should we?” Bilaal appeared genuinely confused. “They are valued members of the United Empire. The old records were quite clear there was little distinction between the multiple species of Beast-kin and Humans…Or has that changed during our time below?”

“It has changed.” Anton pursed his lips. “And not for the better. Most are now slaves, the ones that weren’t slaughtered.”

The Fire Elves gasped in shock, quickly turning to one another to whisper, throwing thinly veiled looks of pity at the Beast-kin. They didn’t mind. They had suffered far, far worse.

“I am sorry to hear that the alliance has failed. But it appears to be recovering.”

Anton smiled. “Slowly. Very slowly, but it will.”

Bilaal clapped his hands once. “So…What are your intentions?”

“To be honest we weren’t expecting to find you here. But I am interested in trade. Materials and food.” Anton pointed to the soldiers. “I’m interested in how you have so much silk. Currently, we can't make much, and it's a bit much to force it out of her.”

“I presume that silk is a valuable commodity above?”

“Very much so. We could facilitate trade with the outer world and take a small percentage. That way everyone can benefit.”

“We would have to come to actual numbers before we agree to anything.” Bilaal smiled. “As you can see we are currently quite low on wood…”

“Trees can grow down here?” Kal asked. “In such low levels of light?”

“It’s quite bright in the main cavern.” Bilaal nodded towards the brightly lit corner. “But they do grow slowly…Oh. I must convey my sincerest apologies.”

“Why?” Anton readied his magic, Verona hovered a hand over the small clay pots.

“I should have offered food and drink for our guests,” Bilaal whispered something to a nearby soldier. “I must ask for forgiveness, I was not ready for such a momentous and important event.”

The soldier returned with bundles of small silk wrapped packages, about the size of a large potato, and small cylinders made from the same white wooden weave material as the bows. One of both was handed out to everyone.

“What are these?” Anton asked. He quickly made sure that the nearby girls had immunity to poisons and toxins. It took more mana than normal, not surprising, but appeared to work.

“One of the few things to eat.” Bilaal took his and hurriedly unwrapped the small package. A uniform flat roll of something orange lay inside the wrapping of silk.

“A mushroom…patty?” Anton asked.

Verona placed hers on the table and poked at the orange roll. “It’s really dense.”

Bilaal nodded. “Porcini Roll. Porcini mushrooms are grown in great fields, processed and made into this. Easy to carry when working, lasts for generations, and is quite tasty.”

Cetina offered to take the first bite. She tore a piece off, the orange mass tearing like fibre underneath her fingers. While she bit into the food Anton kept his eyes towards the Fire Elves. None were looking in anticipation, like she was about to bite into poison.

“It’s good.” Cetina smiled and nodded. “Really good.”

“I’m sure we could purchase some of these for our journeys. We might not be able to use those portals all the time.”

“And the cylinder?” Rasha asked. She noticed a small brown line near the top and pulled the top off. A strange smell filled the air, one that annoyed Anton’s nose.

“That is Macura Juice,” Bilaal spoke with some trepidation. “A by-product of creating the Porcini Rolls. It’s very nutritious but a little…”

Rasha coughed, wiping away a thin green juice from her lips. “That doesn’t taste that good.”

“You get used to the taste.” Bilaal smiled bitterly. “After a while it tastes just like water. At least that's what you tell yourself.”

Anton gently took Rasha’s container. “Perhaps some spices or seasoning will help. If nothing else than to cover the taste and smell.”

“I’m sorry that we cannot offer more. We simply do not have much to offer in terms of food.”

“Again, we did not expect a civilisation to be living peacefully beneath our feet. We could easily send down some food but I don’t know if you could handle it. If you’ve been living off this for generations.”

“What sorts of food are we talking about?” Bilaal seemed confused.

Right, they wouldn’t know about anything other than these things. Trying to explain cooked meat…Wait. They still have meat here…

“You mentioned a King and Queen.” Anton continued. “Of the entire Fire Elves?”

“Yes. King Kuwat and Queen Lestari. They are elected to their position amongst the noble families and serve for their entire lives.” Bilaal smiled. “They are very good leaders, they only have the best in mind for the people, but sometimes that niceness can cause problems.”

Not being stern enough will cause problems. People just doing what they want, in your case that would mean enforcing extreme population control.

“Though we have only just entered your realm would it be possible to meet your Kind and Queen? I would be intrigued to discuss things further, such as trade and aid.”

“Of course.” Bilaal bowed his head. “They will have undoubtedly heard of your presence by now. Given that they are not prone to violence I do not imagine that you won’t be welcome.”

“No stray arrows?” Verona asked, glancing at the Fire Elf warriors.

“No.” Bilaal frowned at Wahyu. “I’m certain the Royal Guard will be better behaved than these provincial soldiers.”

More fractured politics. If necessary we can use this. It’s not we don’t have experience.

“I would be delighted to see your home.” Anton gently rose from his chair. “We’ll send these back up to the surface and bring down some food and drink for you. Something to demonstrate that we come in peace and are earnest in our desire to coexist.”

Not that you have much of a choice, you’re stuck here and you can’t close the door since you can’t use Dwarven technology. I don’t think they can shut it now anyway.

Bilaal rose and bowed his head. “I will send a messenger back to the capital that our first contact with the outside world was peaceful and representatives and goods will be arriving shortly.”

“We’re only going back to the just past the gate.” Anton nodded to Cetina who passed on the order. “If something happens don’t be afraid to just shout.”

The Dark Elves, keeping their bows knocked, continued a vigilant watch until they were well clear of the Fire Elves, watching them silently from the parapets.

“I thought we might be killed,” Calo said.

“Is that food really that good?” Sheso asked Cetina.

Cetina nodded. “It’s pretty good. Considering its just mushrooms.”

“Kal makes a delicious mushroom stew,” Anton said, Kal smiled warmly.

“Are we bringing down more people?” Verona asked. “Your project thing still isn't ready, and we might not want to bring down too many Dark Elves."

Verona smiled at the twins. "Just in case."

“We’ll bring a small force and just leave them outside the gate. Have the Dwarves establish some light defences.”

Umikgruid nodded.

“We come in peace. But we aren’t weak or cowardly.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 64 - Hobbled Help

Anton could not help but gawk as they travelled deeper into the Fire Elf cavern. While the rest of the cavern entrance, before the bend, was relatively barren and uninteresting, not that the rock pools and fields of mushrooms weren't interesting in their own right, the land beyond was something else entirely.

The cavern lying beyond The Bend, was massive, truly massive. A giant bluish white crystal hanged at the very top of the roof, easily the size of Atros's central plaza, which emanated a constant bright light. It took Anton a moment for his eyes to adjust. Below that lay a city, small cramped buildings surrounded by a stone wall, with a large central spire that reached the very base of the illuminating crystal. Beyond the city wall lay farms, that was the only way that Anton could describe it, growing fields of the orange-yellow mushrooms over the rough floor of the cavern. Fire Elves, again wearing fine silk clothes, tended to the mushrooms with small chitinous watering cans and small brown pellets.

“This is our home.” Bilaal smiled. “Kelis. Our one and only city.”

“The buildings don’t look like they were made by Dwarves.”

Anton gestured to a small farm house near to the centre of a field of mushrooms, built from Ghlyirl stone blocks and large irregular chitinous plates. Beside that lay a small rock pool, two young Fire Elves sat at the end of the jetty with a small fishing rod between them.

“And you have fish too?” Anton asked.

Bilaal gently shook his head. “Not out here. They’re reserved for the nobility. But we do have crayfish. Small things. But they like to burrow tunnels through the rock pools and flood the lower areas. They’re a valuable source of food…So long as they can be caught.”

The child shouted something as the rod dipped into the water. Both grabbed the rod for dear life and pulled hard. They fought the crayfish, winding the small reel as fast as they could, as the other adults began to look. Finally a small wave began to emerge through the otherwise still water following just behind the line. Both heaved with all their might, a bright green crayfish the size of a dog emerged from the water, two large pincers trying in vain to cut the line. Once it was pulled to the jetty the crayfish stopped trying to escape and turned to attack the two boys, large vicious claws snapping at their legs. One ran back to a small crate and pulled out a small spear, a piece of carapace acting as the blade, and rammed it hard into the crayfish. After a final shudder the creature fell limp and the children cheered.

“Seems dangerous.” Anton mused.

“Life is harsh.” Bilaal said. “But they know what they are doing.”

Slowly they began moving again, taking a very gentle path through the farms. At first the Fire Elf farmers looked on in concern, a large group of soldiers had just passed towards the gate, but that changed to panic when they saw who was behind. Instantly the farmers understood something was wrong. Parents called to their children, urging them to come back despite their natural curiosity. Anton smiled but the other Fire Elves had no idea what was happening. They looked to Bilaal but he said nothing, if anything he ushered them away. The busy mushroom fields quickly cleared, the Fire Elves scurrying to the small farmhouse buildings. Even the children with the crayfish were ushered away. They still took the creature with them.

“If you only have mushrooms surely you’ll start to run down in energy. Energy is always lost…” Anton turned to Bilaal. “So you must have other types of food growing in here somewhere. And a source of water? Not just condensation on the cavern.”

“There are some things.” Bilaal nodded. “But we can discuss that later.”

Not a good idea to give away all your secrets straight away. I suppose that, since we’re probably underneath the northern mountain range, they get their water from melting snow. Maybe enough raw materials filter through.

As they moved closer towards the central city the fields of mushrooms changed to small mossy trees. These farmers wore special gloves, silk gloves, as they tended to small yellow caterpillars hanging from the trees.

“Silk?” Anton asked softly.

“Yes. They produce silk from their spinnerets. Quite a lot too…” Bilaal gently stroked his chin. “They make more than we need, so most of the time we store it or send the rest to be recycled and processed into pellets.”

“What’s even in those?” Verona asked. “They were throwing it around the mushrooms like crazy.”

Anton lent close to Verona. “In a very closed system like this, with nowhere to gain fresh materials everything has to be recycled. Absolutely everything. And that includes what we’d normally throw away or bury far from our campsite.”

Verona immediately understood. “Oh. Really? Well, I guess you can’t just throw it away down here. There's nowhere to go. Everything would end up in a great big pile, wouldn’t it?”

“That has happened once before.” Bilaal smiled. “One of our past Kings did not want us to handle such things...It was a nice idea, emotional, but almost a disaster. The fumes and lack of resources almost destroyed us.”

I wonder how big the pile got before you realised what was happening? I’m sure we wouldn’t have done much better.

Immediately before the city gates lay dozens of small pens. These contained small insects the size of a large dog, whose shells were identical to the pieces worn as armour. Anton didn’t want to ask the obvious question, more perhaps how they managed to keep such creatures so well behaved. Probably with judicious amounts of food. Brown pellets or otherwise.

A cry came from above the gate. The small wooden doors shut at great speed, leaving many Fire Elves trapped outside. They pounded on the door to no avail. When someone at the rear noticed Anton, probably Rasha's orange horn jutting through her helmet like a beacon, they scattered in panic. The dog sized insects barely noticed anything transpiring around them. If anything they appeared drugged rather than just being docile creatures.

"Bilaal!"

An armoured Fire Elf emerged over the gate. He wore a more complete set of carapace armour, the fragments were closer to a single piece rather than those acting as their escorts.

"What is this? Someone said the Gate is open..."

"The Gate is open." Bilaal's voice wavered for an instant. "These are the people that have come through."

Anton took a step back, in line with Calo and Sheso. "Hide yourselves as best you can. Just in case there's a stray arrow. I can’t heal if you’re dead."

The twins silently ordered the Dark Elves to move into the shadow of the humans and Beastkin, the Dwarves were simply too short to provide camouflage.

"After all this time?"

"Yes. They come in peace and wish to speak with the King and Queen."

"I'll be damned if I open this gate for an Elf!" The Fire Elf pointed to the Dark Elves. Despite their best efforts there was no way to hide themselves, if anything their movement had simply brought more attention than if they had stood still.

“Is it right for us to see your rulers so soon?” Anton asked.

Bilaal smiled. “I understand your concerns. But they are very kind and understanding rulers. Some of the best we’ve had. And it’s not like they won’t be unguarded.”

Magic doesn’t work too well here, so I’ll be relying on Rasha and Cetina’s strength if things go haywire. Well, more Rasha’s strength than Cetina’s skill. She’s back down to one eye.

Anton looked to the soldier on top of the wall. “Are you not elves too? What you mean are they followers of Nithroel? I can assure you they hold no love for that Goddess. Not when she has other, more pliable toys."

"Do the wars still rage above?" The soldiers’ expression softened. "Have the Tilath Necromancers been defeated?"

"We can discuss this inside." Bilaal spoke before Anton could ask. "So please open the gate. We must find them suitable accommodation while the King and Queen prepare."

The soldier nodded and ordered the small wooden gate open. Four Fire Elf soldiers pulled with all their might but the door itself did not look that heavy. Yet they were putting in their very soul just to get the wood to move.

Bilaal ushered them forward. Anton saw the elves breathing hard. Rasha had to duck, her horn scratched the top of the wood breaking some fragments loose. She apologised profusely but the Fire Elf warriors were so shocked to see someone so large.

"Are you interested in history?" Anton asked the Fire Elf soldier on top of the gate. "You seem to know a bit."

"I am. There's not much else to do until we're given orders to march on the southern quarters."

No...No emotion. Like removing a weed.

"I doubt it'll come to that today." Bilaal glanced at Anton. "Certainly not today."

The soldier nodded as their procession continued forward. Ghlyirl laced stones formed the narrow streets and buildings, multiple stories high even though they were very narrow. At the very top chitonous plates formed a roof, something that bothered Anton. He doubted this place had rain, the stones were only weathered by touch rather than water and there were no drains, of any kind, laid into the street.

"Do you have rain here?" Anton asked, since he knew the thought would gnaw at him unless it did.

"What is rain?"

“It’s…Clearly you don’t have it then.” Anton pointed upwards. “In the lands above water condenses…It’s hard to explain it to things when you have no idea. It’s just like water droplets coming from your head.”

Bilaal looked to the ceiling, his pupils constricting underneath the light from the giant crystal.

“Sometimes water droplets come down from the crystal.” Bilaal turned his sight away. “Is that what you are talking about?”

“That, but much, much more.” Anton smiled. “Entire streets run with water, for days at times. It can actually become a problem if there’s too much, especially when the water has nowhere to go.”

Bilaal nodded, looking to the streets. “Recently one of our reservoirs broke. Water ran everywhere and flooded some of our underground workshops…I think I understand.”

Ahead a group of Fire Elf soldiers, wearing less armour than the wall guards and their escorts, tried to push civilians out of their way. Everyone wore long sleeved shirts and pants from the red silk, though they were clearly starving their clothes were of exceptional quality. Silk production was a little too high compared to food, unless the overpopulation issue had persisted for some so long it had become truly dire. The civilians saw them approach and stood dumbstruck. Curious whispers quickly grew and travelled down the narrow and busy streets. The guards took advantage of their stupor and pushed them back, but only to the narrow side streets before the civilians began to stand their ground to watch the strange newcomers. Fire Elves clearly had a natural curiosity towards anything new. Anton doubted there were many new things in their cavern.

“Are there many hostile creatures outside these walls?” Anton received an odd look from Bilaal. He nodded to the curious onlookers. “Apart from those crayfish lurking in the pools.”

“There are several creatures that live in the most shadowy and darkest areas of the cave. They attack without warning and are very dangerous. But the light, and the walls, keeps them at bay.”

Not for those outside. But that’s true for any city…The poorest suffer first. Perhaps that’s just the unfortunate way of the world?

“I am curious. What powers that bright crystal?” Anton pointed up to the bright crystal as they began to ascend through the city. “You don’t have magic down here. At least not much.”

Anton summoned a small fireball. “This is taking a lot of effort. Mana is just flowing out of me. Still, it’s a miracle that Nithroel didn’t find you.”

“I know not of how our ancestors were able to flee her wrath.” Bilaal glumly nodded. “But I believe the Blood Hammer Dwarves created it. It works without any intervention. But if it were to fail…”

They were escorted higher and higher throughout the city, the Fire Elves grew more affluent and the city streets wider, though at the highest level it was barely twice what it was at the bottom. Wealth and power was always relative when there was almost literally no room to move. The base of the spire, reaching the bright crystal below, appeared to be the royal palace, as it had an impressive amount of space between it and the outer buildings, not to mention the Fire Elf guards vigilantly watching the people below. These Fire Elves wielded small but compact bows, and they themselves appeared to be better built than the other guards.

They still wouldn’t last long against the Goblins, let alone a normal army. No magic in here…Maybe some other kind of magic? That Goblin Commander had a suit made from Ghlyirl and he could still use a variant of magic. Still don’t know what he was doing yet.

“You will be the most popular topic in Kelis.” Bilaal waved for the large iron gates to be opened. “I’m surprised that they aren’t trying to storm the palace again.”

Again?

The soldiers grunted and groaned, the gate's hinges were surprisingly rusted. Anton doubted they saw much use. Perhaps for official ceremonies but little else. There must have been a smaller back entrance but that would be exceptionally rude to the first guests they had received in generations.

They were ushered inside and Anton saw what passed for lavish in Kelis. In truth it was rather expensive in appearance but compared to the Graterious Royal Palace it was nothing more than a simple homestead. Vibrantly coloured silks hung from the walls, weaved into tapestries depicting rather mundane events, probably the only exceptional things since the Blood Hammer Dwarves sealed them in the cavern, alongside large cushions that appeared to be used for seating. Anton presumed the wooden fortress was built by the Dwarves, since it had so much wood, and the Fire Elves had changed customs simply out of a scarcity of resources. Anton wasn’t too surprised to see several servants idling about, they too wore silk garments but dyed blue, all of whom stopped when they saw them approach. The fire in their hair burst in intensity before they hurried out of the room.

Bilaal said nothing and ushered them further into the palace. However they were brought no further than the first room. Their force was directed to take a seat on the many large cushions. Most did not as it would limit their ability to react, should the worst happen. Bilaal spoke with some of the blue robbed servants, drinks and portions of food were brought out on insectoid shells acting as plates.

“Thank you.” Anton said to his server. He gave a curt nod, clearly terrified of making a scene, and quickly left. “Tell me, do the nobility eat the same as the commoners?”

“Yes.” Bilaal sat on a large cushion next to Anton. Cetina and Rasha made sure he did not get too close while Verona and Kal sat on his. They gave approving sounds as they pressed on the soft silk. “They eat more fish than most, I personally don’t like the taste, along with some of the better quality mushrooms.”

Anton took a slow breath. “Is there anything that I should not do in the presence of the King and Queen? Beyond...Standard things.”

“No.” Bilaal smiled. “They understand that you do not know all of our customs. But do not worry yourself about something like that.”

“I’m probably not going to be the best diplomat.” Anton said softly. “But I think we will be able to come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

A blue silk servant approached Bilaal. He whispered something into his ear, Bilaal’s flaming hair glowed brighter. The servant nodded quickly before leaving.

“I was not expecting them to be ready already.” Bilaal flattened the creases of his clothes. “They have not have much time to prepare...Please, Anton, may I ask that you consider this meeting informal?”

“I think I actually prefer that.” Anton smiled. “No pomp and ceremony. People are far more...Real. I think we can get more accomplished when we can speak freely. No?”

“Perhaps.” Bilaal looked a little more relaxed. “Perhaps…”

The servant returned with a sheepish look. He quickly returned to Bilaal, Bilaal nodded once.

“Everyone.” Bilaal rose to his feet. “Please, if you will come with me. King Kuwat and Queen Lestari are ready to meet you. I ask that everyone...Everyone not draw their weapons or make any sudden movements. The Royal Guard are instructed to protect the Royal family with their lives. So...Please do not do anything sudden.”

The Atros soldiers understood. Calo and Sheso made sure the Dark Elves would not react badly by any prejudice the Fire Elves gave them. For their part the Dark Elves were more bemused than anything. They had endured far worse than a few angry glares.

“This...This way please.” Bilaal ushered them towards the far door. “They are in the next room. We should not keep them waiting.”

This will be the second King that I’ve met. Hopefully this goes well. It’s not like they have much of a choice. We can attack them, they cannot attack us.

The blue silken servants pulled the inner door open. This door had well maintained hinges and the thin servants were more than strong enough. Beyond the door lay something more akin to a throne room. Again large silk curtains hung from the ceiling, illuminated by several large crystals and glass skylights letting in copious amounts of light from the central crystal above. Gold plate covered the pillars and walls, etched with battles and conquests. Anton recognised none of the places depicted.

I guess gold really doesn’t have much value in a place like this. Everything must be strictly rationed and controlled otherwise it would collapse...Though these people seem to have it a lot better than most.

A green, somewhat gaudy, carpet lay from the open gate to the base of the two thrones. King Kuwat and Queen Lestari sat on two resplendent golden trimmed thrones. Anton didn’t know what to think when he saw a large emblem of the United Empire hanging above them and emblazoned in the green silk carpet. He chose to ignore it and looked at the King and Queen. They seemed normal for the Fire Elves, apart from being rather old. Their fiery hair was darker, more like embers than a raging fire but there was still clearly some life in them. Like everyone else they wore silk clothes but theirs were golden. Apart from a small silver crown both wore, with three small blue gemstones in the centre, they looked like normal Fire Elves.

Let’s hope they’re not pompous arses. Bilaal makes it sound like they’re not, but that could just be him trying to ‘ease’ me into things.

Anton did not wish to speak first, even if it wasn’t a Fire Elf custom it was undeniably rude. Bilaal ensured he was several paces in front of Anton and only silently told him to stop when they were ten or so meters from the throne itself. The Fire Elf guards lining the sides watched them closely, surprised at the mere presence of Humans, Beast-kin and Dwarves, while thoroughly distrusting the Dark Elves.

“King Kuwat.” Bilaal spoke loudly. “Queen Lestari. I have the...Honour, of presenting Anton, Lord of Atros. A...Successor to the United Empire and currently the ruler of the Blood Hammer Dwarf Hold and the lands above.”

“Really?” King Kuwat smiled as he leant forward. “Has The United Empire devolved into a Republic then? Or perhaps a Theocracy? I’ve read many smaller regions of The United Empire did such things.”

Bilaal raised his hand. “Unfortunately, my King, that The United Empire is no more.”

“What?...” Kuwat’s fiery hair dimmed. “Well...I suppose it’s not surprising. They wouldn’t have left us down here unless something terrible happened.”

“How long?” Queen Lestari’s voice was more harsh than her husbands. “How long has it been gone?”

“Many winters.” Anton looked to the Dwarves. “So long that even the Dwarves grandfathers do not remember you.”

“I see…” Kuwat gripped his hands tight. His hair grew brighter and more vibrant. “But there is nothing we can do about that. So is the Gate now open? Whatever the Blood Hammer Dwarves told us to hide from gone?”

“Mostly.” Anton’s reply did not inspire confidence in either. “A swarm of Giant Insects burst through the underground levels. The Dwarves were simply overwhelmed and attacked too quickly. All they could do for you is to seal the Gate shut. However, the Insects have been driven back and sealed away. We are monitoring them for any further incursions but I don’t think that will be happening for a long time.”

“And Nithroel?” Lestari’s hair did not grow angry, somehow it looked subdued. “Does she still search for us? Wish to bring us under her control? Surely you’ve heard how we had to retreat to these caverns to escape her.”

“I believe she still does search. But while you are in these caverns you are still safe. So...I do not believe that it is safe for any Fire Elf to take even a single step beyond the Gate. Nithroel still holds lands to our south and if she attacks we will not last long. I ask that you do not leave...Even though I’m certain that you wish for nothing more than to escape the confines of this cavern.”

The King and Queen shared a hushed conversation. Kuwat gave a single nod as they parted.

“I believe there is much to discuss then.” Kuwat rose from his chair. He let out a tiny groan as his back clicked. “But doing such a long and laborious discussion here would be too tiring for all of us. Bilaal?”

“Yes, my King?”

“Prepare proper seating for us and our guests. Along with food and refreshments...Even for their Elves.”

“Our Dark Elves do not worship Nithroel in any form.” Anton said sternly. “She is only interested in the love she receives from the Wood Elves. And the Dark Elves would refuse her touch.”

“...Perhaps.” Kuwat refused to look at the Dark Elves, as did Lestari. “Nevertheless, we have much to discuss. I hope that you will remain in our city for a little while longer.”

“Of course, King Kuwat.” Anton bowed his head. “I am very interested in hearing of your history, and of your survival.”

---[]---

“That was long.” Anton rubbed his boots, trying to massage his bound dragonoid feet. “Even though I was sitting all that time my feet are killing me.”

The discussions lasted several hours. Overall, it had been a rather mundane affair. Quickly into the discussion King Kuwat came to the realisation that there was little they could do for each other. Neither knew of a way to help the Fire Elves leave the cavern without drawing Nithroel’s gaze and ire. They had searched every scrap of paper and scrolls for any tiniest hint of a clue but had found nothing. And obviously Anton had no idea right now. He promised to scour the world above for any clues, thinking primarily of Ferula, which helped their slightly dour mood considerably. Anton did, however, offer to help them with food supplies in return for silk. That excited both the King and Queen, especially when Verona began to speak of the delicious foods they had in Atros.

“Food is always popular.” Verona laughed. “Always gets people in a good mood.”

“I’m more surprised they accept the existence of Beast-kin so readily.” Kal said. Rasha heartily agreed with her. “Their books...We should ask to have a look at them, but they’ve probably have Humans and Beast-kin...together. Like it was normal. Maybe half-breeds like me were normal?”

After the hours of discussion they had returned to the first hall of the Palace. All were given food and refreshments, but there was an odd aura about the servants.

“I know what they’re thinking.” Anton mumbled. “We’ve shown up, from outside and above, and we are helpless to aid them in any meaningful sense.”

“Do they resent us?” Kal asked. “It doesn’t look like it...For now, at least.”

“No. But they just don’t know what to do.” Anton sighed. “Would any of us if we were in their place? I know I wouldn’t. Surely they have scoured every book they have for answers or clues. I fear that we can do little for them right now.”

The Atros soldiers parted slightly to allow Bilaal and a few Fire Elf guards.

“Thank you for indulging our King and Queen with your stories of the world above.”

“Did you think they were too fanciful?” Anton folded his arms.

Bilaal smiled. “No. But the idea the Humans and Beast-kin are no longer allies was quite a shock to both. As I’m sure you could tell. However, these Demons you spoke of...”

Anton glumly nodded. “They are a terrible threat. However, I believe that you are more than safe enough in this cavern. It kept away those Insects for generations, it will do the same for them.”

Though I don’t know if the Gates locks can be restored to what they were before. I don’t think they can remake it as strong.

“Your...Your stories of such strange creatures has made me think.” Bilaal glanced upwards, towards the giant glowing crystal. “Thinking about a way to facilitate our escape...Especially when you mentioned their red swords.”

Kal nodded. “I thought you looked a little odd when Anton said that. Like something went through your mind.”

Bilaal smiled. “Nothing bad, I can assure you. But there is something that is different. Though it has been many generations since we last saw the sky there are many artefacts from during that time, artefacts that remind us that there is life outside of this cavern. But, there is one thing that’s amiss. It’s this...Weapon. Made from a perfectly white material. Not a single blemish or mark on it. Though it is not the same as weapons these Demons of yours hold...But it is unlike anything else in the cavern.”

Something shot up Anton’s spine. He knew exactly where such a weapon came from. And that if he didn’t know the truth it would eat away at him.

“Do we have time?” Anton glanced to the ceiling, Verona and Kal shared the same look. “It sounds remarkably similar to something that we know...Not related to the Demons…”

At least I hope so.

Bilaal smiled. “Of course we can. King Kuwat and Queen Lestari must deliberate with their advisors about what actions to take next. As you said…” Bilaal sighed, his hair dimmed. “There is actually not a lot that we can do for one another apart from trade.”

“Surely it may give your people some hope that you may be free of this cavern.” Verona said. “Surely that must be a good thing.”

“I certainly hope so.” Bilaal smiled bitterly. “We did not discuss this yet but I fear that it may be necessary to post guards at the entrance. Someone might try and escape, thinking they could live on the surface, and alert Nithroel to our presence. Especially those from the Southern Quarters.”

Anton slowly nodded. The issue of overpopulation had been raised but the conversation had been quickly moved on. Anton did not attempt to bring it up again as it would derail their discussions, though he promised he would later.

“We will do what we have to.” Anton spoke sternly. “Hopefully we will not need to resort to violence but we will if necessary.”

Bilaal smiled. A blue silked servant approached and whispered into his ear. He slowly nodded and silently ushered him away.

“Our King and Queen are still in intense deliberation, and Prince Naphtali and Princess Wiryono are still busy in the southern district, trying to…negotiate with those fools…” Bilaal cleared his throat. “And it would be unwise to have our first guests in generations to wait here in silence. Not to mention the location where the artefacts are kept offers a very impressive view of the cavern.”

“You’re going to have to tell us why this whole southern quarter’s thing is such an issue.” Verona said calmly. “Why they can’t…I don’t know, keep it in their pants?”

Bilaal smiled. “A question we have asked ourselves many times. Of course, it is not always the same area. But of late it has always been the south.”

His flaming hair flashed bright.

“From the top of the spire I will be more than able to give a good overview of the city. On the way we will also have the time to look at several of our artefacts and relics. I’m sure that you will find them interesting.” Bilaal raised his hand. “So long as you are not going to try and touch anything.”

“I understand.” Anton smiled, remembering the rifle hidden by the Dark Elves. “I promise to keep my hands to myself, no matter what.”

“They are all above us. The most important are closer to the White Crystal. That strange spear lies just beneath the top.”

“And I thought that was where the King and Queen would sleep.” Verona said. “So they can look over the city, the entire Fire Elf race.”

“Surprisingly no one has ever thought of that. No one can move the relics.”

“Can’t or won't?”

“Both.” Bilaal smiled. “There’s no reason to try and move something for the sole reason of vanity.”

---[]---

Anton stepped onto the small platform just below the giant glowing crystal. Resting in the centre was the artefact; a two meter broken spear floated above a small pedestal, made from the same white material as Anton’s Marble Spear. The spears’ blade was broken into four large fragments and floated without anything visible suspending them. A small purple sphere floated amongst the shards, along the centre of the spear, and there were spaces for another two either side but they were not present.

Worryingly, Anton felt something building up his tail, not a growing charge only that it was reacting.

“Where did you get this?” Anton asked.

“It has always been with us.” Bilaal said softly. “From the first days that we lived in this cavern. The Blood Hammer Dwarves told us to guard this, to never let it fall into the wrong hands. We aren’t sure what it is but it appears harmless.”

“It’s still a spear.” Verona mused. “Isn’t that still dangerous?”

“Of course.” Bilaal nodded. “But unless someone touches it it’s completely harmless. Everyone that has received deep cuts, even without trying to touch the blade. Perfectly clean cuts, so it’s very easy to stitch up. Barely any scars.” Bilaal shrugged. “But, so long as no one touches it, it’s harmless.”

“I-I can feel something.” Anton muttered very softly. “In my tail, coming from that.”

Bilaal and the other Fire Elves looked to Anton’s rear.

“I don’t want you to become like Harold.” Verona whispered. “It’ll be pretty awkward in bed.”

Anton couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I know it’s from that place. And yet it’s here.”

“How did they get it here in the first place?” Kal mused, holding her chin. “I doubt it was in the cavern originally…Perhaps it was? And the Dwarves simply built around it? Doesn’t sound plausible…”

Anton frowned. “The United Empire managed to find this hide it, no…It was before their time. That means it was the Dwarves that-”

The spear began to shimmer, the fragments vibrating violently. Quickly a white light began to grow and cover the small room with an increasingly opaque light.

“Time to go!” Verona ordered.

She reached for his hand but a flash of white light repelled her touch. She winced, shook her hand and tried again with the same result. The white light emanating from the spear disappeared with a bright flash, now forming a dome encompassing the entire room. Someone pressed against it and couldn’t force their way through. Rasha pushed them aside and thrust her halberd at the white light. Again the light flashed bright and deflected her strike, the halberd’s tip bent while the next inch now glowed a bright yellow. Molten metal. With a slight shake the glowing end simply fell away.

“Now what?” Anton asked. “Has this ever happened before?”

Bilaal shook his head. In fact his entire body shook, not that Anton was far behind.

Anton threw a barrage of lightning bolts, using huge amounts of mana, at the white light wall. The blue lightning ran along the interior of the white dome, like water thrown onto red hot metal. But nothing happened.

“Why?”

“Who said that?” Kal pulled close to Anton. She drew her dagger but couldn’t find the source.

“Why?!”

The voice was distant yet close, coming from everywhere simultaneously yet nowhere at the same time. Anton’s blood ran cold. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like this.

“No…No one!”

The shattered pieces of the spear pulled together and emitted a blinding white light, overwhelming all of his senses. He felt his body collapse onto the ground, his mind somehow sunk further. He cried out but already his mind was being dragged underneath a sea of blackness, dimming every possible thought with only a dimming pinprick of light above him.

Volume 05 - Chapter 65 - The White Realm Pt.1

Darkness slipped away from Anton’s mind and he could begin to think once again. Several long seconds passed before he could formulate even a single coherent thought, so thick was the heavy black sludge that had consumed and overwhelmed his thoughts. An endless white void greeted his sight even after his mind cleared. He reached to rub his head. His hands were no longer human, now a white ethereal outline. Just like once before.

“I’m back.” Anton’s voice echoed. “Back to this place.”

He looked either side from his lying position. He could not see any other being, nor the strange White Marble spear, certainly not within rolling distance across the gently swaying golden grass. He had returned to the same tree enclosure during his first visit to the White Realm. However it was no longer pristine; most of the trees were broken, four were blackened stumps and many others completely uprooted. The small fountain’s base had cracked and split open, water now flowed endlessly onto the golden grass, the orange fish lay dead and lazily floated through the water or lay half buried by the swaying grass.

Anton forced himself up. Something pressed against his tail. He grumbled, running a hand along his now ethereal tail and twiddling the ends.

“Looks like you’re a part of me for good.” Anton shook his head. “Same with the feet.”

Anton’s clawed feet parted the grass as he approached the small fountain. The break in the white material was not natural, not that he needed further confirmation. Unlike the normal breaks of the marble material, a perfectly clean cut with razor sharp edges, the white stone was charred and burnt. Like a bolt of lightning had blasted it apart.

“My gods were just breaking through when I left…” Anton pushed his hands through his waving white hair. “At least I’m sure it was them. How long has it been since then? How…How does time even function here?”

Anton looked up. The black lightning continued to run along the sky, connecting to invisible points in the endless white void, but their intensity was severely diminished. One ran directly over his head, the black lightning barely made a sound and began to evaporate, flickering in and out of existence. He followed the lightning back to the impossibly large White Tower. The spire had been heavily attacked with great slivers broken off and now resting against the main pillar. Black and red marks, still on fire yet not bellowing smoke, adorned all of the broken pieces. Small jets of flame, blasts of lightning and brown projectiles shot out of tiny specks buzzing around the entire pillar.

How big are they? If the White Spire is…It took me hours just to get a tiny bit closer from here.

Anton glanced back to the dead fish. Their white eyes stared into the white void above.

The battle is still ongoing then. What are they going to say if they see me? Can they even? They couldn’t before. Will they just think I’m one of those children and just obliterate me on sight? Shit.

Something moved outside the ring of trees, beyond the swaying golden grass. He dived behind the broken fountain, his ethereal body blended in extremely well with the marble stone, quickly realising that his tail stuck out and pulled it close to his body. Twenty White Goblins, identical in shape to the small dolls held by the child, Trellos, marched through the golden grasslands. Unlike his White Goblins, these wore armour that nearly encompassed their entire body, a small grid-like mesh over their face, alongside curved swords and small shields, no bigger than a buckler. Anton didn’t like his chances attacking one of these back in reality, let alone twenty while essentially naked and completely powerless.

Two were badly wounded, their arms bound in a material similar to their armour, and lagged behind the main force. Nevertheless, they were keeping pace. More importantly there was no sign of what injured them.

Anton retrieved a small off-cast piece of white stone, heavily charred on one side and continued hiding. He didn’t want to discover if his body could be wounded by their menacing swords. Magic didn’t work in this realm, at least one type didn’t. Anton wanted to see if he could use the White Realm’s magic but decided to wait until the White Goblins had left. He did not wish to take the chance.

When the White Goblins had reached the edge of cubular boulders Anton breathed more easily. He remained crouched and looked outside the protective ring of trees, nothing moved in the expansive plains of golden grass. Anton checked the direction the White Goblins came from but couldn’t see any sign of a battle. Had they been marching for days in this world to join the main battle around the White Spire?

“No way to answer that now.” Anton stood upright. “But…How to get back?”

While he was curious as to what was happening in the White Realm, returning to Atros was far more important. Last time it involved accidentally taking in power from one of those children, some kind of god, and then passing out. He did not wish to repeat that, lest he transform even more.

Would I eventually turn into something like the Dragon beneath Atros? That’ll make things extremely difficult, in more ways than one.

Anton held the shard of marble stone tight in his hand. It was nothing more than an irregularly shaped piece of stone and wouldn’t do much against the armour of the White Goblins or even their skin. Anton wasn’t too confident in his strength in this world. He held the shard like a blade and tried to drive it into the ground. The shard dug deep, covered in a white sandy dirt.

“Guess it’ll have to do,” Anton mumbled, his voice still echoed strangely. “Now, does their magic work?”

He focused all of his effort to creating a marble spear, anything that used the charge in his tail. No matter what he did it was completely useless. He could still feel it, vaguely, but he could not manipulate it.

That’ll be bloody right. At least I’ve got this piece...All the good that it’ll do against a sword

After peering outside of the safety of the tree ring again Anton walked towards the White Spire as quickly as he could while crouching low, constantly looking around for any sign of something approaching, especially from the air. The battle around the spire continued unabated, the small specks growing and diminishing in number, as he reached the first line of boulders. A distinction slowly grew between the dots; one side fired off streams of black lightning and small white specks, the other unleashed a multitude of magical attacks, the only source of different colour in this realm. Anton caught flashes of flame, lightning, water, stone and some kind of black smoke.

Maybe that’s from the God of Death…I don’t think those Children stand much of a chance.

The ground rumbled as a great wave of flame descended along the exterior of the White Spire, breaking free another sliver of the tower, sending it tumbling and smashing into the other fragment. A great plume of white dust rose up, consuming the small flying specks before settling and spreading out across the land.

As Anton continued walking towards the White Spire a wave of white dust settled over everything, thick enough to obscure the White Spire and the black lightning running along the sky in a dull white haze. Anton stopped, allowing the white dust to fall on his outstretched ethereal hand. It slowly built up but it was impossible to feel the coarse dust, even when he tried to grind it in his hand. He continued, simply allowing the white dust to fall away when it became too thick.

By the time Anton reached the second forest, where he had met the children previously, the white dust had begun to thin to a level where he could see the White Spire again. The battle continued to rage around the spire, with no clear victor. As he entered the forest he gripped the marble shard tight. Ahead was where his Gods had entered this world to battle the original Gods, if that was what actually happened. The golden trees appeared mostly intact, one or two had broken branches but otherwise there was no sign of a battle.

“It…” Anton cut his mumbling short. Only one thing in this realm had noticed his presence before, but that was only after accidentally absorbing their magic.

The small clearing came into view. Anton crouched low and hid behind a particularly large tree, only daring to peer out with a single eye.

No one remained in the clearing. In fact, there was no sign of anything ever having been here in the first place. On the far side Anton saw a small white cube, the same as the children were using to create block castles.

“Not surprising.” Anton crept along the perimeter of the clearing towards the cube. “They are Gods, probably. It’s not going to be easy to take something like that down in their own realm. Just like Fliodher.”

Another bolt of black lightning ran along the sky. Anton crouched low again as he neared the cube. He reached out, holding the rugged White Marble shard tight in the other, and snatched it back into the forest. There was nothing unique or strange about it. It was just a white cube.

“Pity….” Anton gently placed the cube in the shade of the golden tree. “If I get more of…that, then I might be able to get out of here. But who knows-”

A whistling rang out above Anton. He threw himself against the tree and looked up. Through the myriad of branches he could make out three dots that were closing in rapidly upon him. Anton felt his heart jump into his throat; if he died here who knows what would happen. Perhaps some horrible fate like Caiden or Harold?

Just this shard?

Anton grunted and held the shard tight with both hands.

Please don’t notice me. Just go on fighting while I figure out how to get out of here!

One of the three specks broke away, chased by bursts of flame and lines of white light. One such beam hit the third dot hard and it began to fall at tremendous speed. Anton ran deeper into the forest as the whistling grew into a roaring gale. The creature smashed into the forest just behind him, smashing golden trees while throwing up great plumes of white sandy soil. Anton dived behind another tree, ensuring that his body was tucked in tight and couldn’t be seen.

“He almost had you.” A growling voice came from above.

A creature floated in the sky above the crashed creature, its form obscured by the trees but Anton saw the flames erupting from its body. His first thought was of a Demon, not the lava dog creatures invading through red lightning tears between worlds but of Earth. In fact, Anton had seen this creature drawn in a book. A book gifted by Ferula on Esperit’s magic: a level ten fire summon, the greatest and most difficult creature to summon and control. A Fire Lord.

The Fire Lord, easily eight meters tall, floated above the canopy of the golden trees. Overall it was rather human in appearance. At least its general figure and face. Four wings grew out of its back, a mixture of flame and some dark hard flesh, beating slowly, far too slowly to float in the sky. The Fire Lord frowned, eyes and brows made of a flickering flame, and pointed a sword wreathed in white hot flames towards the golden forest.

“I love the way the leaves crackle and burn.” The Fire Lord laughed. “How long has it been since we’ve had the chance to burn something that wasn’t flesh or metal?”

“How should I know?” The second creature, speaking with a soft female voice, floated next to the Fire Lord. “I do not care for such pointless destruction.”

The second creature Anton didn’t recognise. It looked similar to a stereotypical angel but something was off; her face was far too elongated to be natural, she had a third eye in the centre of her forehead and six arms, each with a disk of light perfectly fitting between her fingers, expanding and contracting seemingly without effort. Compared to the Fire Lord she was very small, perhaps the size of a normal woman, comically small next to the flaming giant. A yellow flowing dress hung from her shoulders reaching beyond her feet, slightly swaying and hugging her slender form. It did not look like any of Tethra’s summons but there were many Gods that Anton did still not know about.

“Perhaps.” The Fire Lord swung his sword. A jet of flame erupted from the tip, eradicating a swath of trees, right up to the one shielding Anton. Anton forced himself to remain still, even though his legs shook from fear. “But at least here you get to see the sun, no?”

The angelic creature raised two of its hands, twirling several errant strands of her short blonde hair. “P-Perhaps. But I’d prefer to not be here. In this place, reeking of corruption and filth.”

“What are you on about?” The Fire Lord continued to frown. “It’s great here. So much to do, so much to destroy. Their plan really worked well.”

“You’d say that.” The angelic creature smiled. “So long as you, and the rest of your kind can burn you’re happy.”

The Fire Lord laughed. “You know us too well.” The Fire Lord slapped her behind, the palm of his hand was more than enough to completely encompass her rear. The angelic creature’s eye twitched but she offered no rebuke.

The Fire Lord smirked. “Come, the battle continues.”

“And this one?”

Anton felt his heart race once again. The angelic creature pointed to the fallen creature, still obscured by the burning trees.

“It’s dead.” The Fire Lord flapped its wings, rising into the air far faster than the beats should allow. “And there are a lot more for us to kill. There’s…Oh. There’s a huge group of those little critters coming from the tower.”

Shit.

“Do you want to deal with them?” The Fire Lord rested upon his sword, as if it was actually planted in the ground rather than just floating in the air alongside him. “Or do you want to let the young-lings deal with them? You know, give them some practice.”

“They could die.” The angelic creature floated up to join him.

“Then they just need to try harder. So…”

“I’m sure that Solious would be furious to find that we are playing with a dead enemy while they continue to fight over the tower.” The angelic creature smiled. “We aren’t exactly the strongest of fighters.”

The Fire Lord merely raised a disbelieving brow and soared into the sky with the angelic creature in close pursuit. Anton had no idea what to make of their conversation; clearly from two different gods but worked alongside one another. One from a god Anton had never heard of before.

A god of the Sun or of Light? Why did Esperit’s creature act like she wouldn’t have seen sunlight in years? That’s certainly how it came across.

Anton vigorously shook his head.

There’s a small army of White Goblins or Ghlotsm coming here. Or something worse. Who knows what else is lurking in this realm?

Anton took a step, following the direction the two had flown towards the tower, when the trees behind him rustled. He stopped dead and gripped the shard tight. Was there a chance that they were wrong? Even with their apparent strength?

Anton took a deep breath, not that breathing was even necessary in this realm, and hesitantly approached the ring of crushed trees. It was extremely difficult to see through, Anton could only see that the creature the two had felled was large and covered in dark skin.

Should I run? I’m curious…

Anton decided that the creature, even if it was alive, would be too wounded to act anytime soon. And he would be long gone before it could bring itself to attack him, let alone move.

I’m curious, but if it sees me I could be dead. That Fire Lord destroyed half of this forest with just a simple swing of its sword. What could threaten that? Certainly not me.

Anton kept low as he ran away from the hidden creature and towards the White Spire, still in lieu of any better plan. The dense golden forest continued for some time until it abruptly stopped and gave way to a golden grassland where a battle raged. Anton hid behind a tree, it was almost becoming second nature at this point, and peered out.

Two distinct forces fought across a charred and burning field; one a myriad of colour and different shaped creatures fighting in a disorganised and chaotic horde with no regard for supporting one another, the other a uniform and clearly disciplined army that fought as a single cohesive force. Unfortunately the organised force did not belong to any of Anton’s gods. Hordes of White Goblins formed large square formations, shields raised to deflect ranged attacks, reminiscent of a Roman testudo. Behind the initial formation the White Goblins wielded large white bows with equally large simple white arrows. They fired in volleys with disturbing accuracy and speed. The opposing side tried to dodge the volleys with some success. Any creature hit was killed in one or two hits.

Behind the lines of White Goblins were White Ghlotsm; again they had the same general structure as the Ghlotsm Anton knew but stood more upright, their claws longer and not filled with rot, their distended bellies far less pronounced and covered with a simple armoured plate. They remained behind the formations of White Goblins until the melee commenced. The moment the front of the White Goblins swung their swords and technicolor hordes the White Ghlotsm surged forward, jumping onto the backs of the White Goblins before diving into the enemy. The enemy recoiled from shock, allowing the White Goblins to advance again while the White Ghlotsm continued to tear into their foes.

Both forces continued to clash seemingly without end. Old God forces poured out of the forest while more White Goblins and Ghlotsm emerged from another in the distance.

“Some sort of summoners?” Anton mumbled aloud. “Perhaps the gods themselves?”

A large green bird flew close above, trails of blue mist trailing from its wingtips. The trees shook violently as the wings clipped the golden canopy.

Shit. They’re getting close again.

While the battle was too dangerous to go anywhere near Anton saw something in the distance that might allow him to pass. A large field of giant white cubes, far larger and more dense than anything he’d seen so far, extended as far as he could see. A boulder field that reached close to the White Spire. None of the battling forces were near the boulder fields and appeared deserted.

I’m just wandering around in this place. Am I supposed to head to the White Spire? I don’t know if I’ll learn anything even if I do, let alone if I can enter it.

Anton looked at the broken and burning shards of the White Spire.

Perhaps I could climb? I don’t get tired and holding onto sharp edges doesn’t hurt. I…I might still die if I fall from that height. I’ll have enough time to think on the way down.

Anton crouched low and slunk through the forest as close as he could to the boulder field. Some of the Ghlotsm and the faster creatures of the Old Gods tried to outflank one another, small bands colliding and forming small and intense battles of their own, but they gave the white cubes a wide berth. Anton hoped they weren’t dangerous.

After a quick dive from the forest he entered the white boulder field. Immediately he understood why the creatures had no desire to enter such a place; nestled between the boulders at the base were hundreds of tiny white cubes forming spikes. Two dead White Goblins, impaled through their chests and skull, proved the dangers of the field. Anton moved slowly through the boulders, trying his best to remain at the sides where the spikes were smaller and less numerous. The sounds of battle continued without end, echoing over the large boulders, as he drew closer and closer to the White Spire.

Time became a strange concept as Anton advanced, constantly scanning the boulders for any sign of movement, the air above for any flying creature that could swoop down and snap him up. Nothing assaulted him or even noticed his existence as he moved forward.

Will it just be a few minutes when I get back? A few weeks? Years? I’m all but certain I’ve been here longer than I was the last time. Not to mention there’s the Fire Elves. What will they think?

Anton passed another dead White Goblin, impaled just like the others.

Will it start a war? Magic’s shit in their cavern. Will we be able to fight our way out?

A flash of light caught Anton’s attention. It came from just in front of the White Spire. An obelisk, stood just before the base of the White Spire, easy to make out by the blackened slivers of the White Spire. Anton didn’t understand why but something drew him to it. A curiosity of the unknown.

Well, waiting in this field isn’t going to solve anything. However I’m going to get home, it’s not going to just fall in my lap.

Hoping he hadn’t tempted fate, Anton continued his slow movement towards the White Spire and the strange obelisk.

---[]---

As Anton finally exited the boulder field and arrived at the obelisk the sheer mind-boggling distances began to sink in. If he wasn’t constantly terrified of attack, from behind the uniform boulders or from above, he might have gone a little mad. So far everything had ignored him but that could change at any moment. He had been hiding so far, but now there was no cover between him and the obelisk.

The obelisk lay at the centre of twenty raised concentric white marble rings, with a small set of stairs to connect each level. They clearly weren’t made for humans but for the White Realms denizens, narrow pathways of small steps lay alongside the larger steps, so that smaller creatures didn’t need to clamber up each of the rings without impeding the larger species.

Clearly they care about their creations. If they didn’t they wouldn’t have created the smaller steps. Unless they were truly bored and simply did it to pass the time…What a terrifying thought. To be that bored in a place like this...

Now that he was much closer it was obvious the obelisk was different to anything else in the White Realm. While most of the structure was a continuous white marble, a small section at the base, a recess about two meters tall and one wide, was coloured a vibrant blue and gold. Blue formed the majority of the depression while the gold formed a vertical line that radiated a complex square of diminishing size until they were little more than dots at the edge.

“So what are you supposed to be?”

Nothing returned an answer, not that Anton expected one. If something had he would have jumped out of his skin, figuratively of course.

“Surely this must be important. It’s the only thing with colour for…Well, a thousand miles. Probably. It must be important. Maybe it’s just a shrine? But surely children wouldn’t worry about something like that. Unless that was just their current form and not their actual mental age.”

Again nothing answered Anton’s question as he walked to the obelisk. As he neared the top the black lightning cracked overhead, the golden marking pulsed once and faded as the lightning trailed away from the spire.

“So you’re powered by the lightning above.” Anton stepped back, craning his neck back. “Can’t see anything…Magic. Remember? It doesn’t need to make complete sense. Just within its own laws.”

Anton quickly ran around the obelisk, just to check that nothing lay behind and he was just staring in vain at the front. Unfortunately, there was nothing.

Anton rested his spare hand on his hip, frowning at the obelisk.

“Guess you are just a shrine.” Anton murmured, shaking his head. “Oh well…I can’t see any more so you might be…”

A sharp sound caught his attention. Something clambered up the small steps towards the obelisk. A single White Goblin, its armour bent and broken, trudged up the stairs, using its chipped and cracked sword for support. It didn’t leak any blood, at least as Anton knew it, but it was clearly hurt.

Anton hid behind the obelisk and watched the Goblin in silence. Its strange light eyes looked to the blue and golden recess in the obelisk and smiled, a smile that didn’t fill Anton with a sense of impending dread.

It stood just before the obelisk, dropped its shield and raised its damaged sword towards the centre of the recess. Anton moved closer, trying his best to observe without being spotted, and saw the sword float out of his hand. Tiny specks of black lightning jumped out from the sword and the golden lines running along the obelisk, growing in intensity and strength until they touched. The sword flew forward and struck the central golden line as the obelisk began to hum with energy. Pulses of black lightning raced four times down the obelisk. When the fourth touched the bottom a bolt struck the top of the obelisk, splitting off from the bolts running through the sky overhead. The Goblin screeched in delight. It reached into the recess and brought out a new sword, now rippling with black lightning along its entire length. The Goblin smiled and observed the new weapon closely, smiling like a child receiving a new tow. A few practice swings later, the Goblin looked extremely pleased with its new weapon, it moved to recover its shield. As it picked it up the Goblin stopped and looked towards Anton. He wasn’t entirely in view but his heart still raced. The Goblin slowly picked up its shield and advanced towards Anton, readying both to defend itself from something it didn't understand. Its white eyes narrowed, squinting as it walked around the obelisk, remaining far away so Anton, or whatever it suspected was hiding there, could surprise it.

Anton slinked around the other side of the obelisk, holding the shard close to his chest. The White Goblin continued to slowly creep around the obelisk before reaching the back. Anton peered around, the White Goblin bobbed its head back and forth, giving a single shrug and began walking towards the steps.

Maybe it can't see me, just the shard of marble...Whatever this actually is. Would I be safe if I just dropped it, so they don't see a floating-

"Grekka!"

A White Goblin ran towards him from the other side of the Obelisk, shield raised and sword ready to strike. It wasn't the same creature as before, the sword lacked the black lightning, but this Goblin wasn't injured or wounded in any form.

"How did you sneak up on me?"

The White Goblin frowned, slowing its charge and stopping a few meters from Anton. Anton held the shard like a weapon but he didn't fancy his chances against an armoured enemy, even after the training he had received.

"You." The White Goblin pointed its sword at Anton. "Don't...Belong. Here."

It took the White Goblin great effort to speak, like the words were poison in its mouth.

"Me?" Anton pointed to himself. "You can actually see me?"

"Not a creation of the Gods." The White Goblin snarled, a white tongue ran along its pointed teeth. "Or a creation of their creations. But you, ghost...You are an...Outsider."

"I-"

"Like the others. Have killed so many already..."

"I'm not one of them."

I technically am.

"And I want to get out of here. Something brought-"

"No more of your kind!" The White Goblin raised its shield once again. "No more of your destruction. Destroying our realm. No more! Agal will know what to do with you."

"Then can they-"

"When I bring her your head!"

The White Goblin screamed, lunging forward with all his might. Anton didn't have time to lament or regret his words. It was likely it would have made little difference, the White Goblin had clearly already made up its mind.

Anton remembered his training from Cetina, as much as he could, waited until the last moment before throwing himself to the side. Collisions with his ethereal body elicited no pain but he wasn't going to take the chance against an actual weapon. The White Goblin was dumbfounded as its blade struck the obelisk, cracking and breaking in two. It appeared more concerned with damaging the obelisk than its broken weapon, not that the marble structure had received even a single scratch. Anton took the brief opening and rammed the marble shard deep into the Goblins neck. A viscous golden liquid squirted out, covering Anton's weapon before quickly petering out to a faint dribble. A faint noise, a tiny gurgle, escaped its dying lips before it fell forward, planting its face against the obelisk and slumping down to a crumpled heap. Anton didn’t feel anything in his tail, something he was glad not to feel.

"Damn things aren't that different." Anton ripped the shard free, the corpse fell away, smearing a line of golden blood over the obelisk. "Imagine if they were like this back home. There wouldn’t be anything left."

Anton quickly surveyed the area, the previous White Goblin was still absent and there was no sign of how this one had snuck up on Anton.

"There must be another path up to the obelisk. I can't imagine they'd make you walk all the way around if you approached it from the tower."

Anton looked above, the battle in the air continued to rage without end.

"But where to now?" Anton tried to shake the blood from his marble shard, some came loose but most remained stuck. "Now where am I supposed to go..."

The sound of distant marching stopped Anton's thoughts. At first he didn't believe his ears, at least his hearing, for the sounds came from the entire perimeter of the obelisk's circular base. Anton gingerly and carefully moved to the edge, only far enough so that he could peer over without being seen.

"So he did see me." Anton clicked his ethereal tongue.

Hundreds of White Goblins, even some White Ghlotsm in their midst, surrounded the base of the obelisk platform. At the front a White Goblin, one with a sword rippling with black lightning, screeched and waved the others forward.

“And he’s got some clout. Maybe that’s what the sword was…A reward for feats in battle.” Anton looked up, towards the distant battles. “There are going to be a lot of chances right now.”

The lead White Goblin waved the sword over his head, drawing more attention to himself, before pointing to the obelisk.

Time to leave.

Though there was only a single pathway fit for a Goblin, or a human, Anton wasn’t worried about jumping down the larger steps. He hurried to the far side but found his feet skidding to a halt; the lines of White Goblins were remaining in formation, their only purpose was to surround the obelisk and prevent his escape. Anton’s blood cold, if such a thing could happen in this realm.

“Shit!” Anton stomped his dragonoid foot. “What…”

The Marble Shard felt extremely heavy in his hand, almost like it was trying to tell him something.

“Fuck it.” Anton ran to the recess in the obelisk. “I’ll be dead if I don’t do something.”

The recess, adorned with the intricate golden lines, looked identical to how he first found it. The blue retained its vivid colour while the golden lines were without a blemish. It hadn't burned out from use but he had no idea if it would still function. Or how it functioned in the first place.

"Might need some time to recharge." Anton held the golden blood-stained Marble Shard like the White Goblin held his sword. "Please work."

The shard jumped from his hand, snapping frozen in the same place the sword floated. Pulses of black lightning ran down the obelisk, far more than before and with greater intensity. From above a bolt struck the top of the obelisk but didn't dissipate, forming a writhing and arcing connection to the lightning running along the sky, dragging the normally chaotic bursts towards a single direction, straight over the obelisk. Anton backed away as the blue began to fray and peel away, the golden lines buckled and warped under heat that Anton could not perceive. The white marble blackened and cracked, small chunks exploded away from the recess. The Marble Shard remained unchanged.

"Come on!" Anton hissed at the inanimate object. "You've got to do something. Other than just making a mess. Otherwise I'm probably dead."

A screech from below confirmed his worst fears. The patter of armoured boots on stone, of white marble on marble, rang throughout the air. Anton didn't need to look to know what was coming.

"What did he do?"

Anton approached the Marble Shard. One of the golden lines exploded, showering him in thousands of tiny pieces of shrapnel. They didn't hurt but he felt great discomfort.

"Something in their language? Something like go or activate?" Anton sighed. "I don't even know if this will work..."

The sound of approaching enemies grew closer, already Anton could see the tops of their helmets.

"Guess I'll be heading back when I die." Anton reached for the suspended shard. "If that'll send me back. Or if I can actually die."

The instant Anton's ethereal fingers made contact, something was ripped from him, the energy he had accidentally taken from the child in the White Realm and much more. It returned the next moment, but for that brief period he felt impossibly frail and weak, his tail and feet shimmered in and out of existence. The marble shard began to crack, growing brighter and brighter until it obscured his vision. Anton looked behind to see how close the White Goblins were, but even that was almost impossible to see. Something shattered, like glass, and the light faded away. The White Goblins had reached the top of the platform but did not advance, they groaned and rubbed their eyes in an attempt to see.

The recess, once a vibrant blue and gold, now burned and crackled. Every piece of gold now dangled helplessly while the blue had disappeared completely. So too had the marble shard. Anton didn't know what to think when he laid eyes on what replaced it, a long spear with three large holes in the blade. Unlike the spear held by the Fire Elves, this had three large purple spheres rather than just one. Something crashed to his side, a large piece of marble. The top of the obelisk had shattered, more and more pieces crumbled and fell away, crashing onto the platform and rolling down the large rings to the ground beyond.

Anton felt reluctant to touch the spear. A White Goblin’s screech convinced him he was being unnecessarily cautious and stupid. He ripped the spear free, nothing happened this time, and wielded it like he was taught.

"..."

Anton frowned at the spear. While he didn't hear anything he was certain it tried to say something.

"Can you speak?"

The spear didn't reply directly, instead the spheres shimmered brightly once.

"You're a sentient weapon then. That’s neat." Anton mused, again the spear tried to respond but could do little besides shimmer. "Well, looks like if you are the same spear the Fire Elves had, we might just make it through this."

A single White Goblin broke from the pack, the first to recover his vision, and ran at Anton, screaming and waving his sword over his head.

"I hope I make it too."

This time the spear shook in confirmation, even the three purple spheres shone a shade brighter, telling him it was ready to fight. At least that's what Anton felt.

The White Goblin charging at him clearly wasn't the most intelligent. While his shield was raised it wasn't held tight and could be easily pushed aside, the sword over his head could deliver a powerful blow but if the target didn't remain still, something Anton had no intention of doing, it was essentially useless. Remembering Cetina’s training he ran as the White Goblin neared, catching him off guard, and thrusting the long spear into its face. It raised its shield to block but couldn't reach in time. The spear's shaft ground along the edge of the shield, sending great chunks of material scattering into its face, before the tip punctured through its helmet and erupted through the other side. Golden blood burst over him and the spear, the White Goblin struggled for a moment before its body twitched once. Strength left its body and slumped down, pulling the spear with him. Anton kicked the White Goblin away, he could interact with them at the very least, and looked at his spear. The three small purple spheres sucked the blood in, glowed brighter for a moment then returned to normal.

“Does that make you stronger?” Anton asked half-jokingly.

The spear shimmered, two of the spheres flashed, then the central.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Anton readied his stance again but something felt different. He felt lighter, faster, even if it was infinitesimally.

Glad you’re taking the charge then.

The spear shimmered again.

So you can hear my thoughts as well?

Again the spear shook, almost a mocking laugh, in its silent language.

Anton stepped back, readying his stance, and waited for the next White Goblin. He wasn’t willing to leap into the mass of creatures, especially as they had all but recovered. Two began to charge at Anton but saw the downed White Goblin, the great pool of golden blood, and advanced with some hesitation. But only some.

They moved either side of the body in order to flank him.

What would Cetina say? Take out one first, don’t let them dictate how the battle is going to flow!

Anton threw the spear with all his might. The White Goblin’s eyes constricted in surprise and fear, raising his shield. The spear tip cut right through the shield, cracking it in two, and cut right through his arm and chest. Anton was right behind the spear, grabbing the end and ripping it free before the White Goblin fell over and took his only weapon away from him. The other White Goblin hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden death of his colleague, but quickly moved to attack. This time Anton caught his blade with his own, his spear sung, an incredibly high pitched whistle, loud enough to catch the White Goblin unaware, and shattered it a moment later. The part of the sword that connected with his spear began to melt, both he and the White Goblin stared momentarily at what both would have believed to be impossible. Anton stomped his foot and thrust the spear into the White Goblin's neck before cutting to the side. The creature fumbled and fell. The golden blood staining the blade was absorbed once again by the purple spheres.

“Great. Three down.” Anton forced a smile. “Just hundreds more to go.”

A new wave of White Goblins charged, this time eight.

“Can you do something?” Anton asked the spear. “Something else? Like shoot out a beam of light? Some Black Lightning that can kill these things?”

The spear remained silent and still, not even a hint of a shimmer or movement.

“Great.” Anton clicked his tongue. “At least I got a few.”

From behind Anton saw movement, already the White Goblins were reaching the top of the platform.

How did they get up there so quickly? Did they climb over each other like ants? The steps aren’t big enough.

A screech from the front caught his attention.

They certainly look like they might do something like that.

Anton readied his stance once again. “Let’s take out as many of you as I can then.”

The first White Goblin neared Anton and the spear began to shine. The purple spheres glowed as the edge of the spear blade glowed with a bright purple light.

“Strong…” A faint voice entered Anton’s ears, coming somehow from within him yet not. “You wanted…Stronger.”

“Yes.” Anton gripped the spear tight. “Yes, I did. Thank you…Spear.”

The purple light grew even larger, extending a few inches from the spear itself. The first White Goblin neared, far more subdued in its rage than the previous attackers. Anton thrust the spear straight at its chest. The purple edge cut through its shield and armour like a hot knife through butter. Anton withdrew the blade, this time the Golden blood flew from the wounds and into the purple spheres, and swung at the next. The purple energy cut through just as easily as before, severing the White Goblins chest from its body. After killing both of the White Goblins the field purple energy remained consistent.

“We can do this.” Anton found himself almost laughing. “Can you keep that energy field thing going? I think we can win if you can.”

“Can…Will do…Best…”

“Just let me know if you’re about to run out.”

“Will try…The blood makes me stronger…”

“I understand.” Anton advanced on the next White Goblin. “I just need to keep killing them, right?”

---[]---

Anton was glad, more than glad, that his form didn’t tire or suffer from any kind of exhaustion no matter how many times he swung or thrust the spear. The purple energy surrounding the spear’s blade certainly helped as nothing the White Goblins or the few White Ghlotsm’s wore or wielded impeded his attacks. With every kill it absorbed their golden blood but Anton noticed it could only do it once per kill, not that Anton deliberately experimented but when he brushed the edge against a pile of corpses the blood remained on the spear, the fresh blood was absorbed while the old remained, even passing through itself to reach the purple spheres.

Now only one creature stood before him amongst piles of corpses. The black lightning rippled along the White Goblin’s sword as it bared its teeth at Anton. It hadn’t waited for everyone else to fall, far from it, but Anton had kept out of its reach, putting other White Goblins in its path and running away, the lack of exhaustion was truly a boon and probably kept him alive. Now there was no choice but to fight this last White Goblin one on one.

“None of you have talked since we started fighting.” Anton held his spear pointed at its chest, the White Goblin glanced at its shield. “Except for that first one, that was willing to talk. At least for a little bit. But…Can you talk? Even my spear can talk.”

Did I actually create a life?

The White Goblin dropped its shield and gripped the sword with both hands.

“Are you even capable of talking? The other one could, and he didn’t receive that sword.”

The White Goblin glanced at his weapon.

“What did you do to get that? I’m sure you did something impressive. No one else ran to get it, even before…”

Anton looked back to the ruined obelisk. More chunks had broken from the tip during his fight, some had crushed a few errant White Goblins, but after creating his spear it had remained lifeless and dead.

“Killing a powerful foe.” The White Goblin spoke with a deeper, rougher voice than the previous. “Agal rewarded me for slaying one of the intruder’s greatest foes. A six-armed creature that created light that burned through our armies.”

The White Goblin smiled at the sword. “She screamed as I tore out her throat.”

“Was there a flaming creature with her?”

“No.” The White Goblin frowned. “You…You are more willing to talk than most of your kind.”

“I’m not exactly one of them.” Anton pointed his spear to the corpses before him. “I tried to talk to you, but none of you wanted to listen.”

“It doesn’t matter what lies you spout-”

“I’ve barely spoken.”

“-But the Masters have decreed that all Outsiders are to be destroyed. To be removed from our realm.” The White Goblin readied a fighting stance. “And after your reckless use of an Obelisk of Creation…No one that follows the Masters would be that foolish. Only an Outsider. An Outsider that needs to be removed for their sacrilege.”

“I don’t actually want to fight.” Anton sighed. “And I was attacked first, I only used that Obelisk of Creation, if that’s what it’s called, after I was attacked. I’d have preferred to talk and find a way out of this place. But you aren’t in the talking mood any more, are you?”

The White Goblin snarled, adjusted his helmet, and began to advance.

“Guess not.”

Anton readied his spear and waited until he could strike the White Goblin in one strike. The Goblin kept the lightning sword close to its chest, Anton didn’t know if it would hurt or even break his own spear. Anton waited until he was almost on him and darted to the side, reached down and picked up a broken piece of white shield and threw it at the White Goblins face. Though his face was protected by a helmet the sheer surprise and the obstruction of his view was sufficient. He swatted away the piece with his sword, the white material crumbled around his black lightning sword, but it left his sword away from his body. Leaving him open. Anton saw the moment he realised his mistake. He tried to bring it back but the spear flew at his face. The White Goblin tried to move but the purple edge cut through his neck, almost severing it in two.

“Wretched…” The White Goblin spat out a mouthful of golden blood, the Black Lightning sword clattered to the ground. The marble floor crumpled around the edge and slowly ate its way down. “Wretched creature…”

“I just wanted to find a way home.” Anton withdrew his spear, followed a great spurt of golden blood. “If you’d just talked, if one of you had just listened, none of this would have happened.”

The White Goblin snarled one last time before collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Anton watched the vicious golden blood fly into the purple spheres. This blood looked far thicker, richer, than the other White Goblins and Ghlotsm, but it absorbed it all just the same.

“I think that’s all of them,” Anton said softly.

He walked to the edge of the platform. Their battle had lasted longer than he’d first thought, that and the journey through the boulder fields had taken an exorbitant amount of time. In the distance, parallel to the beginning of the boulder fields, the battle had ceased. Anton’s gods had won, brightly coloured creatures moved through the forest and approached the base of the tower, where streams of White Goblins and Ghlotsm emerged from small entrances. In the air the battle continued to rage. However, that battle appeared to be going in favour of the defenders, for now at least.

“I wonder how much longer this battle will last.” Anton looked around for any more threats. “They’ll probably lose, if this is the past. How does time work in this realm? At least how it works back to mine.”

“The flow…” The spear spoke louder this time, its voice was feminine but very deep but still weak. The voice came from the central of the three purple spheres. “Time flows differently here.”

“I thought that was the case.” Anton backed away from the edge and returned to the obelisk, stepping clear of the bodies, as best he could. “I was in this place for ages the first time…But how do you know time is different here? Weren’t you just created?”

“I…I do not know.” The spear sighed. “It was merely the first thing that I thought.”

Anton held the spear close to his face. “Did you look at my memories? Or something like that?”

The Spear hesitated slightly. “I do not know.”

“Well…Thank you. I don’t think I would have made it without you.”

The spear shimmered happily. “Thank you. It was my pleasure to help you, Master.”

A silence filled the air, the fighting around the White Spire barely registered in Anton’s mind.

“Well…I haven’t been called Master before.”

That’s not exactly true…

The spear said nothing and remained motionless.

“So…What now? I think that White Goblin was speaking the truth about the Obelisk of Creation.” Anton grimaced at the sight of the ruined recess in the Obelisk. “I wonder if doing that pissed them off more than actually just being here. It might have ruined my chances to peacefully speak with them.”

“I do not know if that’s true, Master.” The spear almost appeared to be pouting. “You only created me using their inferior construct. I don’t see why that requires such a massive response from them.”

“They were coming before I created you.”

By accident, really.

“But you now have enough strength to talk normally.” Anton held the spear close to his face. “Did all that blood give you enough strength for that? I killed quite a few. Or is it just that you’ve been alive for long enough.”

“Forgive me, Master. I do not know.”

“That’s alright. Do…Do you remember being in an underground cavern? Surrounded by a race called Fire Elves?”

“I do not.” The spear sighed. “I have no memories before my creation. Forgive me, Master. I simply do not know.”

Anton held his chin. “If time doesn’t flow in a straight line then it might be possible that I met you for the first time before I even created you. From my perspective at least. Though certainly not for you…I’m pretty sure that my gods-”

“How can you…”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, Master.” The spear made a strange noise. “I do not understand…It is something I’ll need to ponder later.”

“Definitely later.” Anton took a step. “Oh, and can you please not call me Master. It makes me feel a little strange.”

“But what should I call you?” If the spear could tilt its head it certainly would have. “Should I not call my entire reason for existence my Master?”

“I don’t know about that, but could you please call me Anton?”

“I…Yes, Anton.” The Spear did not seem particularly happy, rather it did not wish to disobey his wish. “Please forgive me if I call you Master by accident.”

“And what should I call you? Spear isn’t a good name. And it’ll just be confusing if I actually talk to someone in this realm, someone that doesn’t want me dead for just existing…Or destroying this obelisk. Do you have any ideas?”

“I…Hmm…I do not know.” The spear fell quiet for some time. “I know that I will like whatever you choose for me.”

“Well…” Anton looked at his surroundings. “There’s not a lot for inspiration here. Um…Hmm…I’m kind of drawing a blank.”

Anton looked at the spear. “It’s not right to not give you a name.”

“What about…What about Longinious?”

Anton frowned. “That-That sounds extremely similar to the spear that pierced the side of Christ. Or was that the guy that did it…Wait. How do you know about that?”

“I…I don’t know.” The spear sighed. “I just do…Somehow...You knew that name and it was the first one I found. I made a few changes though…”

“Right. Well, your name is now Longinious.” Anton smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you too, Anton.” Longinious laughed, faint but undoubtedly honest. “Umm…Master-”

“Please call me Anton.”

“Sorry, Anton. But…There was something I felt when I was created. I received some memories and knowledge from you-”

That must have been that power that left me. It would make things easier if a sentient creation had a basic understanding of the things the creator knew. How convenient.

“-But I think I should have received more.”

“Should?”

“Yes,” Longinious grumbled. “Something stopped me. It was like a wall. A wall made of thousands of flashing black and white lights, swirling and writhing together.”

Anton forced himself to keep as calm as possible. “Was it like static?”

“I don’t know what that is…”

“But did you try and break through?”

“No.” Longinious sounded rather shocked. “No. I didn’t want to intrude. I don’t know if some memories are supposed to be locked away like that.”

“Yes…Please don’t try and peek in. I-”

“I would never do something like that!” Longinious shook angrily. “I would never try and intrude upon my creator's memories. Not that I can now. I wasn’t even sentient when I found it.”

“I get the feeling that wall is there for a reason.” Anton looked around the obelisk’s platform, still nothing was approaching. “But we need to get back. Well, I don’t know if you can come with me…”

“I am your creation and your weapon,” Longinious spoke firmly. “Your Avatar. Even if I am destined to be only with you for a short time I will make sure that you return.”

“I think you’re there too.” Anton smiled. “But I fear that you might be waiting the long way. Maybe. If that’s how it works here.”

Longinious chuckled. “I will be fine. If I need to wait for a few thousand years then that’s what I must do.”

Anton nodded once and began walking towards the small stairs. “Since you’re a being of this world.”

Longinious huffed.

“Sort of. Do you know anything of how to get out of here?” Anton pointed to the battle in the sky around the White Spire. “Or any of what’s really happening?”

“I do not. But if we’re going to find out anything we’ll have to get into the White Spire.” Longinious made a strange grumbling noise. “But…But I think I know a way in that won’t be heavily defended. Compared to what we just fought it’ll probably still be a lot. It’s probably our only way in.”

Anton stopped at the top of the stairs, he turned to look at the White Spire once more.

“It’ll take months to properly explore such a thing.” Anton began his descent. “If we aren’t swarmed by those creatures. Or my own.”

“Why would Mas-Your allies hurt you?”

“I don’t actually know if they will.” Something caught Anton’s eye, a coloured light in the far distance. “I don’t know if they know that I’m here or who…Shit.”

Anton began to run down the steps as the light grew larger and large. A whistling filled the air, spurring Anton forward.

“Master, what’s happening?”

“Just-Hang on!”

Anton gripped the spear hard as he began to jump down the steps. His feet slipped multiple times, had they been human feet or he could feel pain he certainly would have stumbled but he managed to reach the bottom without completely falling. Longinious gasped as the bright light grew larger and closer. A bolt of yellow light, brighter than the sun, flew above his head, obliterating the ruined Obelisk of Creation, Anton felt the searing heat even through his ethereal body, and smashing into the White Spire. The roaring bolt of light struck an invisible field surrounding the White Spire, throwing up billions of arcs of black lightning, striking the creatures fighting above from both sides and evaporating each with a single strike.

Slowly the field began to break, exploding in a final explosion of lightning, and the beam of light broke through the marble and deep into the structure. Within a few seconds the light faded and sputtered away.

“They’ll be fighting over that breach…” Anton sighed. “We won’t be able to sneak through now. Not…No. I don’t think we can kill that many and get through unnoticed. Was that the way that we could have gotten in?”

“No.” Longinious groaned. “But it is nearby. We might have to be sneaky. But I know that you can do that.”

Is that a memory about Verona and Kal?

“Lead on.” Anton smiled at the spear. “But we need to keep quiet. No need for us to be swarmed after getting this far. Right?”

“Yes, Anton.” Longinious’s purple spheres flashed bright and happily. “We will find a way for you to return home. I know it.”

Volume 05 - Chapter 66 - The White Realm Pt.2

Anton, with Longinious gripped tight in his hands, felt infinitely safer as they traversed the open grassland towards the White Spire. At least now he had something he could defend himself with, and Longinious had demonstrated just how effective she was. As they neared the White Spire small golden leafed shrubs began to grow, not enough to conceal Anton completely but it was better than crawling through the long golden grass.

Though a weapon gave him some surety he wasn't willing to risk his life against the roaming bands of White Creatures and those belonging to his Gods. Even if it meant potentially increasing Longinious's strength. As they approached the White Spire the groups grew larger and larger, for both sides, and it was difficult to find them separate. It didn't matter where they met, in a grassy field or a boulder infested forest, the moment they laid eyes upon one another the battle had already commenced, even if one side was hopelessly outnumbered and outclassed. For some reason Anton felt a little heartened by the White Creatures winning some victories.

"That's very strange," Anton mumbled softly.

"What is, Master?"

Anton looked at the spearhead, where he felt Longinious's voice emanating from.

"Sorry." She didn't sound actually sorry. "What's wrong? We still have a lot of ground to cover before we reach the base of the tower."

"I'm just wondering if I'm changing." Anton tapped his ethereal head. "The Goblins and Ghlotsm, mainly the Goblins, have been no end of trouble for us. And now watching them fight and die like this..."

Anton nodded to a small battle unfolding in a clearing in the forest. While there were only a hundred on each side it was clear the White Goblins were at a clear disadvantage. They lacked the numbers to form a cohesive line, the enemies’ diverse attacks and ability to outmanoeuvre their broken lines only produced havoc and allowed them to be picked off one at a time.

"I just feel a little sorry for them."

"They are inflicting some losses." Longinious murmured something. “So it’s not completely one-sided.”

Longinious began to shimmer excitedly. “I understand, having many of your memories, Anton, that you have reservation about attacking your Gods…” Longinious shuddered. “Such a disgusting thing I had to say about you, but I might be able to gain some strength from killing them.”

Anton looked at the blade.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Longinious chuckled. “They have billions after all. Infinitely replaceable. Unlike you, Master. Besides, what does a few more dead matter? They’re more than willing to throw them at these creatures and spend their existences in pointless and expensive frontal assaults. Surely it could be better used to strengthen us?”

The moment Longinious finished another group of Old God creatures made a determined push towards the massive breach in the White Spire. Thankfully Anton was not heading anywhere near the conflict zone but it was quite shocking to see the utter lack of tactics being used. Nothing more than brute force and ignorance.

Though, when the entire battlefield is filled with forces is there really any room for strategy? It’s just a mess. All you could really do is try and put your strongest forces where they’re needed most.

Anton surveyed the battlefields.

But they’re only weak creatures. Low level. So where is that Fire Lord? And everyone else?

Anton presumed the stronger creatures were those fighting in the sky.

“So where are we going?” Anton frowned. “I know you don’t have any hands but you can use a bit of your edge to point the way.”

Longinious scoffed. Aghast even. Anton laughed, though quickly stopped himself. It was the only source of noise in the grassy plains. A scout from either side would surely investigate if they heard it.

“Sorry, Longinious.”

“I was just a little surprised.” Longinious’s spheres shimmered. “That you would ask me to act as some sort of lantern. I can, if you wish. I…I was just a little surprised.”

“Away from that hole. Right?”

“I believe that you might be able to see it from that outcrop, just before the wall.”

As Longinious couldn’t point it took Anton some time to find the outcrop of white boulders. He couldn’t see any battles nearby so it was probably one of the safest places near the White Spire. Anton crouched low, eternally thankful that he didn’t grow tired or exhausted, and ran as fast as he could. He found bodies, from both sides, lying silent in the grass. The breach probably drew all of the nearby forces.

Might give us a chance to get inside, if everyone’s fighting over the obvious hole.

Anton glanced back.

Still no sign of what caused that. Creating a blast that large must have drained a ton of energy. I don’t like my chances of surviving one of those blasts.

Nothing tried to intercept Anton on the journey to the outcrop. However, he still couldn’t see how he was supposed to gain access to the White Spire. He doubted that Longinious’s plan was to use her powered edge to cut a hole through the exterior. Nevertheless, he trusted her, mainly because he had no other plan.

Anton crawled to the top of the white cube outcrop, accidentally striking Longinious against the stone. He winced, fearing that it would hurt her or at the very least elicit a derisive response but she remained silent.

"Stay low," Longinious whispered. "There are a lot of enemies before us. Strong ones too."

Anton heeded her advice and stuck his head above the stones just enough to see, keeping Longinious's brightly coloured spear tip hidden.

"This is the best way inside?"

"...Yes." Longinious sounded very despondent, thoroughly understandable.

A large white gate lay before them, the only irregularity along the entire bottom level of the White Spire, the still burning breach being the other exception. Unlike most structures in this realm the gate was not flat, instead covered in geometric shapes of incredible complexity and scale. His attention was drawn away from the geometric shapes and to the creatures standing guard. White Goblins, Ghlotsm and another creature, but one Anton instantly recognised. An Insect, for lack of a better name, towered over the White Goblins and Ghlotsm. Just like the White variants this was far more regal and, more worryingly, their claws and hide appeared much stronger. The Goblins and Ghlotsm stood behind layered barricades formed by specially cut white cubes while the Insects skulked through the defensive lines.

“There must be at least sixty Insects…If that’s their name, and over a thousand Goblins.” Anton tapped his head on the white stone. “Most of them have bows too.”

Anton looked back towards the battles still rampaging through the golden fields, the brightly coloured disorganised masses crashing into the rigid lines of white.

“Those white arrows can kill just about every one of those simple creatures. And I’m almost certain that it’ll go through me.” Anton pressed his ethereal hand against his body. “I didn’t manage to get hit by those Goblins but do you think that those will actually kill me?”

Longinious shuddered. “I don’t want you to find out, Master. I don’t want to return to the void.”

“Void?”

“Before I came to you there was nothing.” Longinious fell silent for some time. “I was aware of everything. And nothing. Both simultaneously. It’s only now, now that I’m real, that I know that it was wrong. Wrong and so cold.”

“I’m not going to just charge in there.” Anton gently patted Longinious’s spear tip, the purple spheres glinted brightly for a moment. “But we need a plan that might actually work.”

“Do you think we have time to collect more?” Longinious asked. “More blood? We avoided most of the battles but I think I might be able to do something more impressive if I were to take more Essence.”

“Maybe. But I wanted to get inside before they,” Anton nodded back to the rampaging armies. “Got inside. But I know that won’t be too much longer. And something made that hole.”

“I don’t know of anything that could…”

“It was like the sun itself had struck the wall.” Anton gripped Longinious tight. “We’ve wasted enough time listening to me ramble. Can you make a shield? Out of energy? Something strong enough to block their arrows until we get close enough?”

“I might be able to.” Longinious clicked her tongue. “There is so much about myself that I don’t understand-”

A Ghlotsm screeched, pointing to the breach. The creatures dove for their defensive lines and readied their weapons. Even the Insects reacted, hunkering their gigantic bodies close to the ground. This Ghlotsm was slightly different from the others; instead of being completely white its helmet had three red lines running horizontally across its face. It screeched again as something dropped from the sky above.

The omnipresent light refracted brightly from its body, sending out thousands of glints of light. Anton braced against the stone outcropping for the inevitable landing. Whatever it was it had no intention of slowing down. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm screamed at his fellows, waving them back but there was little he could do. The bright object smashed just outside the first barricade. Chunks of white stone, dirt and golden grass shot in every direction, killing those nearby and disorienting the survivors.

"Are you alright?" Longinious asked, worry clear in her voice.

"I'm fine." Anton crawled up to get a better look. "A few bits of dirt but nothing too serious."

When the tiny fragments had struck Anton he felt nothing, the same nothing as when he jammed his foot on the sharp edge of a white cube. It still didn't answer whether or not he could actually be hurt in this realm but he wasn't going to take that chance.

Dust began to settle around the object, the White creatures hesitantly approached with their weapons raised and ready. A giant crystal now stood where the barricade once lay, easily as tall as the Insects at their greatest height but only a quarter of that as wide. Now that it was on the ground the crystal had lost its dazzling luminosity. Perhaps more worryingly it appeared to still be in one shape. Anton moved his head from side to side, something the closest White Creatures mimicked, the refracting light shifted but not always with his movement.

"It's not a bomb." Anton gripped Longinious tight.

A White Goblin thrust its spear at the crystal, bouncing off but freeing a tiny sliver of crystal. The crystal shuddered as parts split off, forming rudimentary arms and legs.

"But which God do you belong to?"

Longinious scoffed at his words but offered no further rebuttal. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm waved the White Creatures back before signalling their archers to attack. The crystal being rose up and spun around. Anton didn't see anything resembling a face but, as it turned, a patch of the crystal surface appeared to be more vibrant in colour.

White arrows flew. The target was admittedly rather easy to hit, a gigantic form that did not move very quickly. The damage the deadly arrows inflicted upon it made Anton understood its purpose. While the white arrows had killed most creatures in a single hit the volley had only caused slightly more damage than the White Goblins spear.

The closest White Goblin, the one who had struck the crystal originally, lunged to attack again. The crystals head snapped to the Goblin. The next moment the crystal threw down its arm, straight on the Goblin, driving it into the ground. The crystal shook its arm, golden blood and shattered white armour fell off, revealing that it had sustained no damage. Now the White Creatures were hesitant to approach, even the Insects.

"Let them fight it out," Anton said softly. "Not the most noble of strategies but it's our only choice."

"Victory is what is most important," Longinious spoke adamantly. If she had a body Anton was certain she would have her arms folded, eyes closed while nodding seriously. "But so is saving your life, Master. There is no need to worry if those beneath you think poorly of your actions."

Anton looked over the rocks. The Red Crested Ghlotsm waved its arms, signalling an all-out assault. Another volley of white arrows flew at the Crystal, followed by all of the Insects, the other White creature’s right behind.

"See?" Longinious scoffed again. "They aren't capable of anything more creative than simply throwing themselves at the enemy. Simple tactics for simple creatures. Master's...Anton, your plan is far superior."

"I don't know about that." Anton looked behind him. The grassy fields were still empty, the thought that something might sneak upon him was a worrying thought. "It's probably the right call."

Longinious's purple spheres shimmered in confusion.

"Better to try and overwhelm it now than to send in their forces piecemeal, get picked off while barely causing any damage."

"Perhaps."

The first Insect lowered its body as it neared the Crystal, pulling its arms close for added strength. The Crystal copied and met the challenge. With a terrible screech the Insect collided with the Crystal, golden blood shot out its back. The two struggled for a moment before Anton understood what was happening. The Crystal shrugged the first Insect aside, golden blood ran off its arms in great rivers, and prepared itself for the next attack. Two Insects attacked together, both impaled through the chest, but the Crystal did not emerge unharmed. The Insects claws dug deep into its shoulders gouging out deep chips of crystals, spattering over the grass. Again the Crystal shrugged off the Insects and swiped its arm at the next Insect. The next swipe missed and the Insect collided with its body, sending it careening onto its back. The Insect didn’t hesitate, Anton had never seen those creatures ever wait, and jumped onto the Crystal, hacking and bashing with every limb. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm raised its arm; the Insects continued attacking but the other creatures retreated to their previous defensive lines.

“See?” Anton sighed, Longinious grumbled. “It wasn’t a bad choice. But the loss of those Insects is definitely going to hurt them.”

“I thought it might put up more of a fight.” Longinious scoffed. “Once Master gains the power to create his own creatures, not that I’m just some creature-”

“I can do that?” Anton held Longinious close, she squeaked in surprise. “How? If we had just a dozen with us we could get through this, I’m sure. How, Longinious?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Longinious sounded on the verge of tears. “I don’t know! I don’t know. Please forgive me, Master, but I don’t know. I know so little-”

Anton gently rested his hand on the spearhead, just above the central sphere. “It’s okay. I…I guess I’m becoming a little nervous and agitated. Being stuck in this alien world for so long, not knowing if I can actually return. But do you know anything about that?”

“No, Anton.” Longinious had regained her normal composure. “But I believe that there might be something inside that building that can help me. Help us.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

Longinious went silent. The Crystal pulled itself up, its central body was riddled with chips and deep gouges across its arms, and staggered to the side. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm ordered the Insects away with another shriek. A volley of white arrows struck the Crystal again, sending the Crystal tumbling backwards again.

“I don’t know,” Longinious spoke softly. “It’s just what I feel.”

The Crystal began to rise once more before a single Insect attacked it again. Now they were evenly matched, and there were far more White Creatures still to fight.

“Why did they send only one?” Anton asked aloud. “Surely they must know that one isn’t enough? They’ve been fighting these creatures for a long time. They aren’t stupid-”

Longinious scoffed.

“-So…So they should have a rough idea.”

“I don’t…Master! Behind us!”

Anton gripped Longinious tight. Hundreds of Crystals trudged up the mountainside towards them, every crystal’s bright patch focused on Anton. For a moment Anton skipped a breath, the Crystals weren’t as large as the one facing the defenders, only a meter and a half tall but there were so many that Anton wasn’t sure which was worse.

He gripped Longinious tight, the purple field burst out of the blade edge and assumed a fighting stance. The crystals stopped simultaneously, one slipped on a loose white boulder before planting its foot deep into a crevice. Evidently they were extremely heavy.

“Can you understand me?” Anton asked, constantly checking they weren’t trying to flank him. Their bright bodies weren’t ideal for such manoeuvers but they might still try. “Can you talk?”

A pair of Crystals looked at one another, their face sections flickered intensely. A conversation, one which Anton had no way of understanding.

Shit. They might be friendly, but that doesn’t mean anything when we simply can’t communicate. The best we can do is stay out of each other’s way.

Anton began to step to the side, allowing the Crystals a clear path to help their larger friend, when a shrill cry from the Ghlotsm stopped him. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm pointed at Anton, momentarily stunned before screeching again at the archers.

“Please tell me you can make a shield.” Anton held Longinious tight as he ran down the mountain, parallel to the White Creature’s lines. His feet missed many footholds, smashing down with such force it would have otherwise broken his ankle or at the very least sent him tumbling if he wasn’t in his ethereal form.

“I’ll try my best! But try to evade their arrows.”

Anton kept his eyes towards the White Goblin archers. Their bows were drawn tight but they refused to loose. Their attention was placed firmly on the Red-Crested Ghlotsm, the creature snarled and pointed back to the small hill. Anton looked back as he had already neared the base. Above the smaller crystals were advancing over the mountain, their bright face section paid him no attention.

White arrows flew, all towards the smaller crystals cresting over the hill as the larger struggled to stand. The smaller crystals hunkered down, the arrows struck their backs and inflicted damage, chunks of bright crystal thrown loose. But these were much smaller and couldn’t afford to lose so much of their bodies. Two of the crystals communicated with one another before they began to charge down the mountain with all the speed they could muster, which was not much.

As the volleys of white arrows soared towards the smaller Crystals the large Crystal began to rise. Huge chunks had been ripped from its body yet it refused to surrender. An Insect put an end to its struggle, ramming its arms through its face and out through its back. From the wound the crystal grew dull and disintegrated into nothing. The Insect looked very confused that its enemy had disappeared but a quick cry from the Red-Crested Ghlotsm brought it and the others back to the defensive line.

“They’re ignoring us?” Longinious almost sounded offended.

Anton was glad they were attacking one another instead of focusing on him. He crouched low, none of the fighters were watching and began to slink closer to the large gate. There was still no way to enter, at least yet, but Anton was willing to try and use Longinious as a cutting torch.

Longinious made another sound, motioning up with her purple energy. More lights, more Crystals hurtling towards them. Not one, nor a dozen, but hundreds. It mattered not that some were the smaller Crystals, each fell like a meteorite, smashing apart the open grasslands and the barricades. The Red-Crested Ghlotsm tried to regain a coherent force but it was largely impossible with enemies literally raining down upon them.

“Now’s our chance, Master.” Longinious urged him forward. “If the Crystals take control of this area I don’t know if they’ll turn on you.”

A large Crystal landed nearby, the air screaming before it crashed into the ground with an almighty thud, the force so great it propelled Anton into the air. He landed gracefully, using Longinious to guide his descent, as the large Crystal rose up and began to lumber towards the battle.

“You’re right. Just so long as there’s a way inside we might be able to get out of here.”

Nearly three hundred crystals had landed by the time Anton reached the base of the White Spire. No shield or barrier impeded his pass, nor his ability to touch the smooth outer surface with his hand. It was identical to the marble stone throughout the White Realm. Not that Anton expected it to be different. A great crash brought him back; an Insect had thrown two small Crystals against the White Spire, shattering them instantly. Anton crouched low until he reached the edge of the gate.

“Shit,” Anton grumbled, keeping Longinious close as he looked to the battle just beyond. “There’s nothing here.”

The gate, apart from its intricate detailing, was devoid of anything that might be considered a handle or any means of egress. Anton didn’t expect something so large to be able to be opened by himself but he had hoped to find a small door, some form of access. Otherwise, what was the point to so many defenders protecting something of no use?

“I bet that Red Crest has something to do with this.”

Anton found the Red-Crested Ghlotsm in the midst of battle. With one swing of its claws a small Crystal fell, then another and another. It was a truly frightening display, far more than the Goblin with the Black Lightning Sword.

“Not that I’m about to ask.” Anton pointed Longinious at a section of the gate that appeared to be the thinnest. “I hope this works.”

“I will do my best.” Longinious laughed. “Even if it is not slaying Masters enemies.”

Anton slowly pushed the purple edge into the marble stone. Longinious effortlessly cut through the marble stone as Anton made a hole wide enough for himself to crawl through.

“I’m through,” Longinious said happily. “It’s only half as thick as I am.”

“Then we can just-”

“Outsider!” The screech came from the Red-Crested Ghlotsm. “Outsider! Tries to breach the Spire. Stop! Stop the thing!”

So he can see me.

The Red-Crested Ghlotsm was far from the battle but he had infinitely more serious problems to deal with. He had surrounded himself with Insects but they were slowly falling to the Crystals, and he had no forces near Anton that were not fighting for their lives.

Anton kicked the small pieces of marble until enough has been cleared for him to crawl through. Sparing a final glance to the battle Anton held Longinious close and crawled through the small gap. Again he was grateful that the ethereal body didn’t feel pain or become damaged like a normal body, otherwise he’d have been torn to ribbons by the time he reached the other side. Longinious did not appear pleased that Anton rested his weight on her when he pulled himself through but she remained silent.

“Are you alright?” Longinious asked.

Anton pulled himself completely through, brushing away the small pieces of marble stone that remained attached, albeit momentarily, to his body.

"I'm fine," Anton whispered, fearful of alerting anyone waiting on the other side. Thankfully there was nothing. Absolutely nothing, only an empty white corridor lay beyond the gate, extending for several hundred meters before stopping abruptly. What lay beyond that he could not see. A bright white light, radiating from above, blocked his sight.

"Do you want to close that gap?" Longinious asked. "Either side might try and come after you."

Anton peered back through the hole. "I don't think they'll be following anytime soon."

The Red-Crested Ghlotsm still continued to fight on, but his forces were reduced to a few hundred at most. He had killed many crystals but they continued to rain from the sky, the thuds barely felt inside the White Spire, so his efforts were ultimately futile.

I bet that if he survived he would have received a reward. Maybe a larger crest on his helmet? Larger claws or some kind of ranged weapon?

Four Large Crystals broke through the defensive perimeter of Insects.

Maybe not.

An Insect picked up a Small Crystal and flung it at the small hole. Anton tumbled over himself as the Crystal became embedded into the gate. The sounds of the battle outside dimmed, leaving Anton in a perfectly silent place for the first time. Only Longinious's energy, a faint hum, reached Anton's ears.

"Won't be long before they break through. Less if they continue to get reinforcements like that." Anton murmured. "Any clue where to go next?"

"Further inside," Longinious said calmly. "Nothing awaits us outside the White Spire."

Anton held Longinious tight as he briskly walked towards the bright light. As he approached his eyes quickly adjusted to the brightness, though he couldn't quite understand what he was seeing. Regardless he made it to the edge, the gate behind had yet to be breached, and marvelled at what he saw.

The interior of the White Spire was massive, truly massive, not that Anton ever doubted such a thing. The centre was completely open, from the base to the very top, where a white pentagram shaped gemstone radiated the bright light along the spires entire length. Thousands of stories, many with landing areas jutting out into the open air, formed the internal structure of the White Spire. Each level appeared to be slightly different, each unique. Apart from the large breach, the structure looked to be intact. No indication the blast punctured through to the other side, or even began too, nor any sign of the broken outer sections.

"To the top, I suppose." Anton almost let out a laugh. "That's the way these things usually are."

"I do not know," Longinious grumbled once. "But we will have to hurry."

The base level was not devoid of life. The White Creatures colour allowed them to near perfectly blend into the surroundings, especially if they didn't move. Dense formations of White Goblins, White Ghlotsm's and Insects behind, slowly marched towards the breach into the wall. A few Old God creatures came through, the fighting continued outside, but were effortlessly cut down. At the front of each formation a special creature stored confidently, each wore unique armour and weapons, and they were clearly a cut above the rest. A large plant creature, after killing two Insects, was obliterated by a single White Goblin wielding a blue bow and armour.

"Anton," Longinious whispered. "On the far side."

Opposite the breach the White Creatures streamed out of staircases leading to the first layer above the ground level. They moved in perfect formation, the White Ghlotsm and Insects were more wild than the Goblins but they still moved in a relatively ordered formation.

“So which level are they being made?” Anton looked to the light at the top of the White Spire. “Right up there? I wonder if that’s what’s creating the black lightning that runs across the sky.”

Anton held his hand to his brows. “How large is that thing? If that’s the top of the spire…Hang on.”

None of the White Creatures had noticed Anton or Longinious, but more importantly Anton saw a nearby staircase, like everything in the White Realm it was ridiculously wide but completely devoid of any creature. Anton could not see where the staircase led but it was the only way to the higher levels.

“Unless…” Anton looked at Longinious. “Can you fly?”

“What?” Longinious’s spheres shimmered. “What did you just ask of me, Master?”

“I asked if you could fly.”

“…No. No, I cannot. At least for now I can’t. I…I might be able to do something like that.” Longinious’s voice grew soft. “Maybe if I’d had been allowed to take the Essence of those that would oppose Master.”

“I’d prefer not to kill everyone I meet.” Anton crouched low and darted to the staircase. “Those Crystals might have been friendly, if I’d been able to talk with them.”

Longinious said nothing as they began the ascent. A series of pillars formed the inner wall of the staircase, allowing Anton to continue to watch the battle. Although the White Creatures fought well they were slowly being pushed back. A great noise came from above, something falling fast through the air. Anton hid close to the pillar, aligning Longinious along his body to which she elicited a strange but pleasant sound, as the noise grew louder and louder. Anton saw six dark objects fall just behind the White Goblin front.

“So that was one of their creatures,” Anton mumbled. Longinious could only make a questioning sound.

Six Dragons, identical to the dead creature chained below Atros above the magma shaft, beat their wings, the wind force throwing the enemy lines, and some of their own, completely into chaos. They raised their hands as one. A ball of black lightning formed in each, more controlled than Anton’s but no less energetic. Out of the lightning weapons emerged; spears, swords and even bows, all large enough to be wielded by the Dragons.

“Just like you.” Anton murmured.

“Absolutely not!” Longinious pouted, at least her voice told him she was. “I’m not something as crude as that. To be used and discarded…Right? Master?”

“Absolutely not.” Longinious let out a deep breath at Anton’s words. “I’d never discard you.”

Longinious whimpered, Anton was certain the spear was trying to squirm in his hands.

The Dragons readied their weapons, their sweeping blows easily tossed the smaller creatures aside but they stopped at the last moment. One readied their spear, similar to the stance Anton had been taught, as a bright light approached. The Dragon creature roared, flapped its wings to rise into the sky and threw its spear at the rapidly approaching bright light. The light dodged, a fly effortlessly dodging a drunken swat, and collided headfirst into the Dragon.

“Wretched! Creature!” The Dragon grappled with something stuck on its face, its voice boomed across the battlefield. “You dare defile the creator’s works with-”

“Be quiet.” Anton recognised the voice, the voice from the strange angel. “Your kind only spout the same drivel.”

The Dragon’s arms rose up, its massive muscles straining under a great force as it tried to crush the angel. Despite its obvious bulk it couldn’t overpower the smaller and more frail woman. Two golden orbs flashed in the angel’s hands, exploding and throwing the Dragon’s hands away.

“See?” The Angel began to rise into the sky. “Not-”

A bolt of white cut through the Angel, severing its upper and body apart. The giant white arrow continued its path, straight towards Anton. Anton cursed and ran up the stairs. Marble chunks flew in all directions, striking Anton in the back of his head and sending him smashing straight into the stairs. Longinious fell from his hand as his mind became disorientated.

“Shit.” Anton quickly recovered to his feet. He found Longinious a few meters away, at the far side of the staircase. “You still alright?”

“I’m fine.” Longinious sounded more panicked than hurt. “We need to get to a higher level.”

Anton did not hesitate and began his ascent, keeping one eye towards the battle below. The angel slowly began to float to the ground, white blood erupting from her grievous wounds, but the wounded Dragon grabbed her upper half. She screamed as he bit her head off, his great and terrible teeth cut through her neck like paper. After a sickening crunch, her limps fell limp and her body began to descend at a normal speed.

“No!” Another shout came from the breach, another point of light but this was a burning red. The Fire Lord flew over the battle, dodging a hailstorm of white arrows, and struck the Dragon with his sword. The Dragon screamed, tossing the headless torso aside as it tried to cover its burning chest. The Fire Lord pulled its fiery wings close and darted to catch the angel’s body.

"You fucking idiot!" He screamed at the torso. "You shouldn't have listened to her."

The Fire Lord stopped mid-air, holding the body tight against his chest, none of her clothes or skin was affected by the heat, a faced the wounded Dragon. It had recovered, somewhat. The wound on its chest and face had closed, leaving a deep scar, but it had lost its spear. The Fire Lord smiled and raised its sword, glowing brighter and brighter with every passing moment.

"You'll regret-"

A white hammer struck the Fire Lord, crushing his head and followed his body into the ground with a horrendous crunch. The wounded Dragon licked his lips, a sinister smile thrown to the other Dragon that had attacked from behind. The hammer Dragon lifted its weapon, tiny chunks of white marble flooring had embedded itself into the hammer and struck the downed Fire Lord again. The Fire Lord shouted in pain and tried to escape by flapping its wings. The moment they raised up a thin needle punctured the joints to his back. The wounded Dragon held the end of the thin needle, still being formed from the unstable black lightning, and pulled up. Four flaming wings flew into the sky, the wounded Dragon discarded his weapon and created another needle-like blade. The Fire Lord looked up, beneath his battered and fire leaking face Anton saw the unmistakable look of loss and pain. He still held what remained of the angel close to his chest.

The Fire Lord opened his mouth to speak but another giant white arrow struck his head, obliterating his head and most of his torso, the arrow crashed but a few meters behind, white fragments hitting the smaller White Creatures that were giving the battle a wide berth.

The wounded Dragon spoke a slew of words Anton could not understand. But he recognised the word Grekka, and the dismissive way it pointed to the dead Fire Lord.

"Can you understand them?" Anton asked. So far nothing had attempted to walk down the massive staircase but that could change at a moment’s notice. It would also be difficult to see them, with Anton's attention divided between not missing a step and watching the battle outside.

"Not yet," Longinious spoke with a questioning tone. "But I believe I can. We are similar, after all."

I don't think that's how language works.

"But there might be something in the level above us. If nothing else a new source of Essence for me."

The Dragons moved together and advanced towards the breach, striding over their forces until they reached the battle lines. With a mighty swing they sent hundreds of creatures flying and crushed them outright. Many tried to strike back, technicoloured volleys of magic struck their scaly hide but it was all for nought. The Dragons remained completely unphased and smashed the enemy forces without a care.

"Shame they didn't make it," Anton mumbled. "Wonder if Esperit knows something about this."

Longinious said nothing as they neared the first level. No guards awaited them, yet there were clearly defensive positions, simple barricades along the width of the staircase, they simply weren't being manned. At least for now. When Anton approached he realised they had, in fact, been defenders, dozens of White Goblins, armed with their white bows, lay slumped down against the barricades. Anton tapped one with Longinious. Something had pierced its helmet and skull in one hit but left the rest of the body untouched.

"These look a little different." Anton tapped their chest armour. "See? It's thicker. Much thicker. Almost as thick as your spear blade."

Longinious scoffed. "And yet their faces are still exposed. Why go through all the effort of giving them extra armour and leaving such a weakness exposed?"

"I don't know." Anton tapped the helmet, again much thicker than normal. "Not that it did them much good."

As he was about to move on he noticed something in the corner of the Goblins armour. Something had been carved into a small indented circle, a series of harsh interconnecting lines. It did not resemble anything Anton recognised but the Goblin had one underneath both arms. A quick search revealed all of the bulkier White Goblins had this marking. To the side Anton found a normal White Goblin. He did not have the mark, but still had a small circular indentation where it should have laid.

"Armour enchantment?" Anton ran his ethereal hand over the mark. "I can't feel anything coming from it. Longinious, can you keep a lookout for anything else like that."

Longinious's spheres shimmered. A yes, in the visual language of a sentient spear.

Beyond the barricades Anton found himself in some sort of storage room. At first glance it appeared straight but there was an ever so slight bend along its length. Large boxes, again made from the perfectly flat and white marble material, lay scattered across the room with many opened and their contents discarded. The contents left Anton confused; hundreds of small cubes, large enough to just fit in his hand, and a multitude of soft colours. None were a harsh colour, Anton would probably call them pastel colours.

“Thousands.” Anton guessed each crate could hold almost a hundred of the coloured cubes. “And this is just one little room.”

“I don’t know what they could possibly be used for.” Longinious murmured. “But…I…”

“If you have something, please speak it.”

Longinious coughed. “I think, and I might be wrong about this, Master, but I think these are used to create creatures.”

Anton held a pale green cube aloft. It was completely lifeless in his hand. He shook it, the cube was nothing more than a lump of stone. Only then did Anton realise that it was far too light for a normal piece of stone.

“If only I had pockets.” Anton placed the cube back. “Keep an eye out for anything special on this level.”

Despite his words, there was nothing else but a near-endless selection of crates filled with small cubes. At the end lay another set of stairs up. This too had a series of columns to allow sight of the inner spire below. The battle continued, an additional three Dragons had arrived and were successfully containing the invasion. Anton wondered how the Dragons would fare against an equal adversary. If the Angel hadn’t been overconfident she could have inflicted significant damage. More so if she had simply flown of out range and fired from on high.

Maybe she had an order and had to obey. Just like my summons. Are the lower ranked creatures not capable of sentient thought like that Angel and the Fire Lord? Trapped in their own minds, thought and reason but no free will? Maybe not for them but it’s still a worrying thought.

Halfway up to the next level, it appeared each of the rooms followed each other in a helical spiral up the White Spire, Anton heard voices. A series of chittering voices. Goblins.

These were manning the barricades but didn’t have many ranged weapons. Anton fell low against the stairs, his profile from above would be difficult to see, and counted only four archers.

That’s still four too many.

“Any chance of that shield, Longinious?”

“I might be able to…I know. I’ll increase the size of the energy, it might be able to deflect the arrows.” Longinious chuckled nervously. “I think it will.”

“Unless I can throw you. But then I’m left without a weapon.”

“Please don’t.” Longinious sounded like she knew he actually wouldn’t, but there was something underneath her voice. Something he had no time to pursue.

Anton slowly approached the barricade, waiting until the last moment before breaking into a run. A spear-wielding White Goblin saw him first. The creature’s eyes narrowed on Anton’s body, unable to understand what he was seeing, before everything snapped into place.

“Now!”

The purple edge flashed brightly. It was as large as a head and focused just on the tip, but it would have to do. Anton had not experienced much pain in this world, some from the assassination attempt in Qaiviel but adrenaline had been coursing through his blood. But he had no idea how it would work here. Memories of the assassin, his body riddled with the tiny marble cubes, flashed through Anton’s mind. Creatures struck by the white arrows disintegrated. What would happen to him?

Anton grit his teeth and charged up the stairs as fast as he could. The Goblins fired their bows, the white arrows were surprisingly slow, he could see them coming, and could actually move a little before the arrows reached him. All bar one missed, the other struck true on the purple energy shield. The arrowhead penetrated through the field but disintegrated before it could hit the spear tip. The White Goblins screeched and fired another volley. This time Anton was far closer and the Goblins had trained their shots. Anton managed to dodge one, deflect another, but two managed to strike him. They struck his shoulder and knee. Both exploded in pain, less than what he had once faced, but his whole body felt slow and lethargic. The areas that had been struck had begun to transform into millions of white cubes, like his ethereal body was solidifying into sand. It bubbled and warped with his movement. Longinious shouted something but Anton focused on the battle.

A heavily armoured Goblin tried to form a line behind the barricades but Anton reached the top before they could. Anton jumped onto the edge of the barricade stone with his good foot and into the enemy line, swinging Longinious over his head as he allowed his body to shrink below the range of their weapons. Though the purple field was not like a cutting edge it retained such an effect, the White Goblins struck by the edge had their armour crumple and flesh torn apart. Golden blood flowed forth, swirling through the air and into the purple spheres. Longinious shouted out the Goblin’s locations, making sure that Anton didn’t lose track of their numbers and ensuring there was someone in-between the archers and himself. The battle was fast and bloody, the enemies had fallen before Anton had a chance to truly think. He looked ahead for any potential reinforcements. All he saw were more white crates, these hadn’t been overturned and almost all were fastened tight. Anton flexed his hands as the adrenaline began to ebb away.

“How does Cetina do this every time?” Anton asked between harsh breaths. He didn’t need to breathe so harshly, his mind simply told him he should.

“Master?”

“Fighting battles like this. On the front, with people in your face: their angry faces, spit, sweat and blood.”

“You killed hundreds before we entered the White Spire?” Longinious sounded very confused.

“I know…” Anton rested the spear on the floor. “But that was one at a time. Mostly. And they were coming to me, not me leaping into the fray.”

“I’m just glad you survived. Not that I had any doubts.”

“Thanks…” Anton looked along the room. “Is it going to be like this on every level?”

“We should find a place to hide, for the moment.” Longinious deactivated the purple field. “Those wounds…I’m so sorry I couldn’t create it any larger. I pushed with all my might…But I just wasn’t strong enough.”

Anton touched the wound on his shoulder. Unlike the rest of his ethereal body the sand-like stone depressed with his touch, slowly rebounding after a few seconds.

“It’s slowly coming good. See? It’s about a centimetre smaller already.”

“If…” Longinious fell silent. “M-Anton! Look outside!”

Anton stepped back down the stairs, hiding behind the last column. Another two Dragons had arrived, their lines had pushed forward almost to the breach, but Longinious frantically urged him to look closer.

A new force had joined the fray, small and large Crystal creatures streamed through the passage that Anton had taken and attacked the flank of the White creatures. The formations quickly responded, four of the Dragons moved to intercept, but they were fighting on two fronts. These defenders performed much better against the Crystals than those outside, staying as far back as possible while peppering them with volleys of arrows. The Crystals lacked any kind of ranged weapon and needed to get close before they could do any damage.

“Guess the Red Crest is dead.” Anton mused. “And if their leaders are intelligent…”

Anton didn’t finish his sentence before his fears were confirmed. While the Crystals engaged the White Creatures some of the smaller Crystals veered away and began the ascent up the stairs. They were slow, thankfully, and each step was a great effort but they were determined to make the climb. And now there was nothing to stop them.

“Let’s keep moving,” Anton said. “The only way is up.”

By the time he reached the next staircase the wounds had completely healed, though they still felt a little stiff. He hugged the wall, again, and found more White Creature defenders. These were looking out of their level, not leaving their positions, through the columns. Thankfully there were only a few archers and by the time they realised they were under attack Anton was in their midst, rendering their weapons useless. Anton ensured they were all dead before looking at the level. There were several empty white crates, at the far end a set of stairs down to the lower level and a one to the level above in the centre of the floor on the outside wall.

“So few defen…” Anton stopped himself and darted behind one of the barricades. Longinious made a questioning noise but Anton didn’t reply. Something was coming down the stairs from the level above.

A small creature slithered down the stairs, a long white eel floating a foot from the ground. It had a single yellow eye in the centre of its forehead and, more alarmingly, ten sets of arms, barely thicker than a straw, dangling limp like the legs of a flying wasp. They almost brushed against the floor as the creature approached a crate. As it circled around the crate its long arms descended, each retrieving a cube and holding it close to its body. Once it had twenty cubes, seemingly of random colour nestled safely on its underside it left, swinging back up through the air to the upper level.

“A worker?” Anton mused. “Seems relatively effective.”

“What?” Longinious murmured, almost sounding baffled.

Anton glanced down the staircase, nothing was following them just yet. “It can fly, carry a lot of those cubes and can manipulate each of its hands independently. There might be billions of them inside this spire.”

“I’m sure you would think of something more effective.” Longinious huffed.

Another loud crashing sound came from the floor, audible over the general clamour of two armies fighting to the death. The Crystals were pushing hard on the White Creatures but now they were being reinforced by an army of black wraith creatures, skeletons mixed in as well. These were considerably faster than the Crystals but vastly more fragile. Much to Anton’s concern they began ascending the stairs, much faster than the Small Crystals that weren’t even halfway up the first set.

“We’re going to run into a million of those things. Aren’t we?”

Anton briskly ascended the next set of stairs. The White Eel was at the very top and disappeared to the next level. There were no defenders waiting for him but this floor was vastly different from the others. Instead of crates of cubes a large raised pool lay in the centre. Dozens of White Eels floated around the edge with the cubes held tight against their underside. A White Eel dropped a white cube, Anton guessed without any of the etchings, into the pool. Anton heard nothing as a White Goblin rose out of the pool, shimmering mercury dripped from his body.

“The same shit those cultists were digging up,” Anton whispered. “I don’t think it’s actually mercury. Maybe it is?”

The White Goblin walked out robotically. Anton was surprised to see it already had simple weapons and armour. It moved to the far side of the long room and stood motionless. The White Eels continued to drop the white cubes, each time a White Goblin emerged from the pool.

“While this is fascinating,” Longinious whispered softly, a slight level of annoyance in her voice. “I think we need to keep moving.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to see what happened when they dropped one of the green cubes.”

As if on cue a White Eel dropped a green cube into the pool. It took considerably longer but this time a Ghlotsm emerged, this one too with armour but no weapons beyond its claws.

“I wonder what the red cubes create.” Anton slunk towards a small staircase to the upper levels, on the far wall.

However there was nothing in the way of cover, nothing to stop the White Eels from watching him pass. As expected one noticed him and hissed, the others stopped their slow meandering but didn’t move to attack. They simply watched him move up the stairs, never blinking or moving other than a slight undulation of their body. More perplexing, the assembled White Creatures did not attack. They stood at the far side of the room, waiting for some sort of order.

Maybe they’re like a shell. Haven’t had their minds, or free will, put in yet.

As Anton began ascending the stairs, keeping Longinious pointed at the White Eels, they promptly lost interest and returned to their duties, throwing the cubes into the pool of liquid metal. Anton had barely made ten steps before the entire spire shook violently. Walls broke, the floor beneath Anton began to crack and the White Eels screeched and coalesced around the shimmering pool. The wall towards the centre of the spire blew inwards, throwing hundreds of white chunks towards the White Eels followed by the broken head of a Dragon. The chunks struck the White Eels, they screamed loudly and dropped nearly all of their cubes into the shimmering metallic pool. As the Dragon fell away, golden blood streaking behind it, the pool exploded in a shower of metal, drenching the cracked ceiling and even reaching Anton. A droplet touched his foot. Emotions overwhelmed him and his mind completely ceased to function. The next thing he knew he was on his backside with Longinious shouting at him. The droplet had rolled off his feet and continued down the broken stairs, becoming lodged in a gap.

“I’m fine,” Anton said, Longinious stopped speaking. “So what’s happening now?”

Anton looked up the stairs. White chunks from the floor above had collapsed through, forming an impressive barricade but not enough to completely impede his ability to climb. Several White Goblins and Ghlotsm were trapped, screeching as they tried to free themselves.

Back down or head up?

The metallic pool bubbled and shook violently. Something began to emerge, a ten fingered hand, formed from different creatures fused together, pulling out a grotesque body.

Up it is.

Longinious did not object to his decision. As he began to climb he made sure to kill the White Creatures, absorbing their blood into Longinious. It was only a few but he knew it might just make all the difference. A terrible screech came from the floor below, the White Eels screamed in protest but Anton didn’t return. The walls began to buckle and break outwards as a white, green and red slime began to ooze through.

“Looks like Harold.” Anton murmured.

It was very similar to Harold’s transformed body, minus the writhing worms. The ooze, now free of the cracks began to build and contort into small knots. Anton lowered his spear towards the building ooze as he continued to walk up the stairs. The knot coalesced and shot out a needle-like protrusion. Longinious’s purple field flashed into reality and caught the needle. It fizzled away as made contact, it tried to dodge around the field but Anton advanced and stabbed at the knot itself. The energy field dug deep into the ooze, sickly golden blood wept out, readily absorbed by Longinious. Anton knew that it only happened when the enemy was dead but doubted the knot was the entire creature, whatever it was.

“Utterly vile!” Longinious spat, though only in sound. “It’s like eating vomit, blood and rotting flesh all at once.”

Do I know what rotting flesh tastes like?

Anton pushed Longinious further until the energy field began to dig into something very hard. Screams came from below followed by a rumbling. An eyestalk grew up and around the stairs, bloodshot and filled with rage. The iris contracted to a pinprick as more knots began to emerge through the wall and following the eyestalk up the staircase.

“Oh…”

Anton ran as fast as he could, eternally grateful that he didn’t feel pain when his feet landed harshly on the edges of the stars while the needles tried desperately to strike him. They were not accurate but the sheer speed which they could travel was frightening. Anton had to run backwards as Longinious could only project the field from the tip of her spear. As he swung his spear, obliterating the ends, a White Eel darted around the mass, mouth wide open and its eye filled with terror. It darted through the air, avoiding the dozens of needles thrown at it. The White Eel granted Anton a few moments of reprieve, which he took to run as fast as he could. When the White Eel screeched in pain he only glanced back momentarily; just like Harold infecting the Clausonne civilians the needle-like protrusions ran underneath the White Eels skin, wrapping around its body as the creature screamed in pain. The small thin hands tried desperately to swat them away but they could not break them. The eyestalk focused on the White Eel and brought it into the multi-coloured mass.

As Anton reached the next level the creature had not ascended far. It lurched and pulled itself forward but it could not move quickly. Somehow Anton knew the creature was frustrated by its current lack of speed.

“Such a dangerous way to create creatures,” Anton said. “Then again, I doubt the White Spire normally shakes like that.”

“Master, we need to keep moving,” Longinious spoke sternly. “I don’t think we can win against that thing.”

Another White Eel tried to escape up the stairway. Why it didn’t try and escape downwards or out Anton didn’t know. It too was consumed but the creature did not give it more than a moment’s attention before continuing its slow climb.

“Longinious? Do you have any ranged abilities? Something out of range from its needles.”

“I think I might.” Longinious clicked her tongue. “But…But I need more Essence. A lot more essence.”

Anton moved away from the staircase when the spire began to shake again. The floor was already cracked from the first rumble and completely collapsed this time. As the chunks fell the creature screamed but the tumbling pieces did no lasting damage. Anton glanced down as he skirted the hole. He couldn’t see the ground through the creature’s mass. Small eyestalks looked between each of the chunks that had landed on its body. They looked up and focused on Anton, all constricting in an unbelievable rage.

It’s not my fault!

Anton ran towards the next staircase when the far wall exploded. He dropped, letting the fragments fly over his head. A Dragon floated outside but its chest was torn open. The Dragon snarled, slowly moved a hand to its chest and dropped like a stone. A blue man, wearing a fish scale type armour with a red scimitar in his hand, floated behind the Dragon and watched it fall with a satisfied smile on his face.

“How disgraceful that I had to get involved.” He chuckled. “Esperit and Solious really need to improve. And then there’s this thing.”

The man pulled his sword back, water rushed out from his and coiled around the sword. He swung it at the floor below, the water turned into a blade and cut through the marble structure. The creature screamed as its body was cut in two, the eyestalks shuddered and collapsed onto the mass.

“Honestly.” The blue man glanced up and gasped. “H-”

A small ball of white crashed into the blue beings head, sending them both towards the ground. It was just a moment but Anton knew what he saw, a small child made with the same white ethereal body as him. He had no idea which one it was, if it was Trellos or Agal, but part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Do you recognise that one?” Anton asked.

“That…That felt similar to you.” Longinious said softly. “Not the same but…”

The creature below let out a whimper. Its body began to decay into tiny white fragments and disappeared.

I have no idea what you were, and yet I’m a little bit sorry for you.

Soon there was nothing left of it but a cancerous lump the size of a car stuck in the pool. It tried to move but couldn’t, not even roll itself with its knot-like protrusions. Even the few that it could make were limp and could barely hold themselves up.

“That should be more than enough.” Longinious’s voice was oddly soft. “Better put it out of its misery.”

Anton found a pathway down formed by the partially collapsed floor.

“I wonder if it has a name.” Anton mused as he hurried down the ruins. “Probably something like Abomination.”

A weak eyestalk rolled across the body, unblinkingly staring at Anton. The needles tried to attack but they were growing weaker by the moment.

“Sorry,” Anton said. He thrust the purple sheathed spear deep into the creature. It spasmed once and fell silent and completely limp. Longinious coughed as the blood flew into the purple spheres, far more than normal but he was certain it was just as bad as before.

The creature completely disintegrated, leaving the pool empty. At the bottom of the pool lay the desiccated husks of the White Eels, clearly they had died in extreme pain, and a spiral etching on a small circle at the very bottom, just like those on the White Creatures.

“A brood mother?” Anton said aloud. “Is that how this works?”

Is that what Verona and Kal found in The Shadow Isles? Were those cubes like...No. At least I hope they aren’t.

“Anton?”

“Do you have some sort of ranged attack now?” Anton asked as he began to ascend to the floor above. “Otherwise we might be in trouble.”

“I do,” Longinious said proudly, a groan immediately followed. “That creature felt even worse…I hope that you reward me for what I’ve done. It was absolutely vile.”

“I’ll pamper you all you want.” Anton reached the top floor. “Whatever you want. So what can you do?”

“…Alright.” The spheres shimmered bright. “Stand me upright.”

Anton did as he was bid. The central sphere grew incredibly bright while the two either side pulled free and floated over his head. The two floating spheres flashed bright, discharging a thin beam of light, breaking apart a fist-sized hole in the floor. Every six seconds a sphere could fire, Longinious alternated the shots so the attacks would be more consistent. The central sphere fired a larger shot of light, at least ten times as destructive, but could only fire once every fifteen seconds.

“How’s…How’s that?” Longinious laboured breath told him just how strenuous that brief display was.

“Fantastic. But that just took a lot out of you.”

Longinious didn’t answer for some time. “It does.” Her voice was normal now. “But with more Essence, it’ll become easier. If you’d just done what I’d said to begin with, Master, that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Don’t give me lip.” Anton smiled. “Now, what’s happening down there?”

“And where did that little child get to?”

Anton hid near the edge of the broken wall and peered down. The White Creatures were doing poorly. Their forces were only barely holding the staircases to the higher levels and a few isolated pockets. Only two Dragons remained and they were hard-pressed by multiple smaller beings, similar to the Angel, Fire Lord and the Blue Man. The Dragons fought back to back, with large shields and spears but their attackers were smart enough to stay out of their reach and pepper them with attacks from afar. There was no sign of the Blue Man nor of the child that had struck him. Anton was surprised that he could still see the dead Fire Lord. And the ruined body of the Angel still held tight in his ruined form.

“Bring those spheres back,” Anton said. “We need to find someone that we can speak with before-”

A rattling stopped Anton’s words. Shadows began to cast themselves across the staircase approaching them, shadows in the shape of skeletons, extra shadows of weapons and shields.

“Do we fight?” Longinious asked. “They’re a lot faster than those crystals. And they don’t sound friendly.”

As Anton glanced towards the staircase to the next level the skeletons burst up the stairs. They were nothing more than shambling bones wielding swords and small shields also fashioned from bones. Anton didn’t doubt their sharpness and they were likely coated in magic. Blue and white flames burned in their eye sockets, all focused upon him.

“Back off!” Anton yelled as he back away himself.

The skeletons did not stop or even waver as they ran at Anton, their weapons swinging wildly over their heads.

“Fine.” Anton tapped Longinious on the ground. “Let’s see if someone can actually talk. Longinious!”

“Understood, Master.”

The spheres glowed bright and began to discharge their blasts of light. The skeletons shattered with each attack, the bolt of light passed through several additional skeletons before smashing into the ground. After a single hit the skeletons disintegrated into hundreds of bone fragments, regardless of where they were struck. The flame extinguished with a pop before the empty bone sockets shattered, like the skull had been punched repeatedly. Anton didn’t know how powerful or weak his attacks or the skeletons were. Regardless, Longinious alternated firing the smaller spheres to keep attacks continuous, shooting the larger sphere’s attack into the centre mass of the skeletons.

A wisp of black lights fled the destroyed skeletons and flew towards Longinious’s largest sphere. Unlike the golden blood, it simply faded into the sphere.

“Tastes like dirt,” Longinious grumbled. “Guess I shouldn’t expect anything else from a bunch of bones. I’d prefer to have more of those Goblins. At least they had some meat on them.”

Anton didn’t know exactly how to respond so continued to back away as the horde of skeletons continued to encroach.

“Keep them near the hole,” Anton said. “And hit those clumps with your biggest attack.”

Longinious large blast carved a giant hole in the horde. The Skeletons tumbled to the side and tripped over their remains, they were easy prey for Longinious’s smaller attacks.

“Longinious? Are you attacking faster?”

“Yes…” Longinious laughed, a hearty laugh. “Just a little bit. But you noticed already?”

Anton smiled as the horde began to ebb and wane. All that remained was nothing more than broken and shattered bones and now nothing came up the stairs.

“Shame I’ve just made an enemy of them,” Anton mumbled. “I hope I can apologise to the God of Death.”

Longinious huffed. “You should never have to bow your head to creatures such as them. Though…Though they might just know a way to return you home.”

A rush of wind flew past the hole in the inner wall. Anton caught the white form of a child soaring up into the sky, holding a severed blue arm, covered in a fish scale armour. Anton ran to the edge and saw him land on a platform halfway up the spire. As he entered the structure Dragon’s, armed with lances and shields, poured out and dropped to the raging battle below. Almost immediately the battle began to turn towards the defenders.

“We’ve still got time,” Anton mumbled. “But…Oh great.” He looked to the passage further down. “Those damn crystals.”

The shadows began to grow once more, now just a uniform shadow against the wall.

“Let’s keep moving, Master.” Longinious’s spheres returned to the spear. “There’s nothing to gain staying here.”

Anton silently agreed and continued their ascent.

Volume 05 - Chapter 67 - The White Realm Pt.3

Anton ran up the endless staircases of the White Spire, only stopping to kill the defenders that barred his way. He knew it was helping the Old God’s conquest but he didn’t have any choice. Every White Creature was immediately hostile and would not even hint to entertain his presence or a conversation. There were many variants, all with etchings on their armour but nothing like Red Crested Ghlotsm or the Black Lightning wielding Goblin, nothing that would talk.

“How it would help me if people would just talk,” Anton grumbled loudly.

He held Longinious tight as her small spheres floated above his head and obliterated yet another barricade. The White Goblin archers screeched as they loosed their arrows randomly. Longinious threw up a purple shield and caught the few arrows that might strike him. Thankfully his wounds continued to heal at a rapid pace. Longinious had fired her large bolt of light at anything that had actually wounded Anton, even if they were right on him. He knew that if she was in a human form she would have stomped the creature to death during the middle of battle.

“These foolish creatures are not capable of registering that they are fighting their betters.” Longinious scoffed. “Your creations will not be so idiotic.”

Anton said nothing, focusing on the crumbling barricades. While they had found more of the silver pools, closely guarded by White Sky Eels, they were unable to create creatures that would follow his orders. White Goblins or Ghlotsm would emerge but would immediately attack him. Anton decided to leave them alone. It wasn’t that difficult as the Sky Eels were not hostile unless they approached the pool.

I wonder if there are books in this Spire? Do I have enough time? We’re still being pursued.

Longinious fired off a final bolt of light and ceased, letting out a triumphant huff.

“Thanks, Longinious.”

“I aim to please, Master.”

Anton almost laughed. Part of him really wanted to know what form Longinious would take. If she knew his memories then he would know his most intimate desires…

“Are we near the level the boy flew into?” Anton slowly approached the barricade.

Longinious brought the spheres to hover just above his head. “Yes, Anton. But I think he, it, would have noticed. We aren’t exactly being subtle about our passage. Like whatever killed those White Creatures on the first floor.”

“True,” Longinious said softly. “That is still concerning me.”

The White Spire shook violently again. Anton slammed himself against the wall and used Longinious to stop him from falling down the stairs.

“Again?” Longinious grumbled.

Something broke off from the outside. It ground loudly as part of the structure bent and twisted away, screaming through the air until it crashed into the ground far below, the whole structure shuddered again.

“There won’t be anything left at this rate. What happens if the Spire begins to collapse? They’re inside too.” Longinious’s sphere’s shone brightly. “If they wanted this place destroyed they’d have just destroyed the base.”

“They’re getting angry as the battle continues to drag on,” Anton said. “So they’re starting to not care how much they destroy in order to win. How long have we been here?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

They stepped past the ruined blockade and into a room different from the others. This room contained the platform reaching out into the empty central space of the White Spire, no Dragons or any other creatures except a large blue crystal floating in the centre. Four smaller blue octahedral crystals spun around the central crystal. Anton readied Longinious as he approached but, despite the bright light, the crystal was inert and harmless.

“So what can you do?” Anton asked aloud.

“I-”

A scream came from the far side of the room, behind a featureless white wall. The way the scream echoed it clearly didn’t come from the floor above.

“Longinious. Make your energy edge.”

“Why?” Longinious still did as she was bid.

“I’m going to cut a peephole.” Anton gently pushed the purple edge through the stone. “Just keep an eye on what’s happening behind us, I might be distracted.”

“Understood.”

Anton pushed Longinious through until he felt no resistance. He spun the spear to make a small hold and peered through. He nearly gasped at what he was witnessing.

Five brightly coloured people surrounded one of the white children, whether or not it was the child that had flown by Anton couldn’t be sure. He recognised Fliodher, her pelt clothing was different compared to his meeting, a darker fur that covered far more of her body, the bow was smaller but made from a lighter coloured bone. Esperit stood to her side, wearing a flaming set of armour that left almost all of her backside exposed and a short man with blue hair. He wore tight blue clothes, a white scarf around his neck and a large pot underneath his arm. Water flowed out of the jar, around his waist and back in. Anton didn’t know the name of the God of Water. More worryingly he saw Nithroel standing in front, dressed identical as their first meeting, and Tethra to her side. Her white habit covered her head but she didn’t wear the chains underneath. Her clothes were much tighter and could not hide such cumbersome chains.

“So you were friends,” Anton mumbled softly. “What went wrong?”

He was only speaking aloud for his own benefit, there would be time later to explain it to Longinious. She said nothing as she kept her attention focused behind.

The White Child, a girl judging by the ethereal skirt, cowered before the Old Gods. Anton shifted and saw dead Dragons beyond, all killed in horrific manners.

“One out of thirteen.” The short water god grumbled, his voice soft and feminine. “One out of thirteen! We have been attacking with everything we’ve got and-”

“Shut up!” Nithroel spat at him, the water god jumped back a step. “I’ve heard enough of your grumbling ever since the invasion began.”

“Whatever.”

Nithroel shook her head and looked to the White Child. She tried to scamper away but her back was already against the wall. And one of her legs was bent at a strange angle and leaked a white mist.

“Don’t come near me!” The White Girl shrieked. She produced a white dagger and held it towards Nithroel.

“Really?” Nithroel scoffed. “Your creatures are dangerous. You, on the other hand-”

A beam of black lightning erupted from the dagger. Fear drenched Nithroel’s face before a white light deflected it into the pile of Dragon corpses. Tethra had her hand raised, a faint white light enveloped her entire arm.

"You cannot be so careless." Tethra's voice was soft but held a deep authority.

Nithroel nodded but offered no apology or thanks.

"Stupid little mongrels." Nithroel held up her hand, a vine with black thorns began to grow out. "You've spent countless cycles just playing in this little place you call a world." Nithroel scoffed. "You have no idea how to fight a war."

The White Girl slowly shuffled along the wall, keeping her dagger pointed at Nithroel. She only laughed.

"We have fought wars that-"

"Stop torturing the creature." Esperit snapped. "We have not fallen to the ways of those that have forsaken us. Or have you forgotten already?"

Again Nithroel said nothing.

I don't remember Esperit being like that. But then again we are dealing with Nithroel. Thought she would have snapped something back.

"You're right." Nithroel glumly nodded. "Sorry, Esperit."

She's definitely changed, and not for the better.

"Self-serving attitudes are what brought us heretics in the first place."

Black thorned vines swirled around Nithroel's hand, the White Child frantically tried to back away, before they shot out, grabbing the child's leg and throwing her around like a rag doll. Chunks of floor and wall came loose as the child screamed and begged for them to stop. Anton's stomach turned to see a child being so horribly abused and without any concern from the Old Gods, not even Tethra.

When the Child stopped resisting, now a limp ethereal body, Nithroel's vines held her up high. Her skirt did not fall down but tears streamed out of her featureless face. Nithroel began to speak when her face snapped towards the centre of the White Spire. An angel fluttered in, not like the four armed angel that was killed by the Dragons, but far more in line with what Anton expected. Except this angel was a male.

"My lady Tethra." The angel's voice was surprisingly deep. "The enemy is pushing forward again. More of those Dragon creatures lead the assault."

"Can't you deal with them yourself?" Tethra asked. Anton could not tell if the question was innocent or not.

"We can." The angel looked to the other gods, bar Fliodher. "But we will need reinforcements."

"I cannot send another Fire Lord into battle." Esperit clicker her tongue. "I don't have much mana left."

"Surely that's not true." A laugh escaped the water god’s lips, silenced by a glare from Esperit and, surprisingly, Nithroel. "I mean, the people would be crying out for you far more than me."

"That's a lie and you know it." Fliodher angrily shook her head. "I'm sure many screamed to the heavens for a simple drop of water. They didn't care that the animals were long dead."

"We will bring them back," Tethra said. "All of them. And the forests. And the oceans. Everything. But first..."

Tethra's hand glowed bright again, far brighter than before. Out of the light chains emerged, those too forged from a brilliant white light. However, every four links there lay a giant hooked spike. The White Child tried to resist but could not. Its feeble attempts were quickly silenced as Nithroel's vines swarmed its body and constricted tight around its neck.

Why not just kill her?

The chains of light finished flowing from Tethra's hands. For a moment they stopped, Tethra's shoulders twitched.

"I'm sorry." Tethra exhaled softly as her stance hardened. "But you cannot-"

"Intrud-"

The angel shattered as a White Marble spear punctured his chest and flew directly at Tethra. A mass of vines and water formed a tight knot to deflect the spear into the ceiling, shattering both and causing Nithroel to drop the White Child.

"My guards should..." The Water God trailed off as he looked to the source.

Four of the blue men floated lifelessly, large white stakes punctured every joint with two rammed straight through their eyes. Between them floated a small boy, his ethereal body had no features but Anton knew he was beyond furious.

"How dare you!" The child screamed with an adult’s voice. "You-"

The Old Gods did not hesitate. All at once they attacked, a mixture of their respective elements flew towards the child. Another White Spear grew in his hands as he looked up and soared into the sky. The four blue men screeched as the white objects impaling them pulled hard against their body and into one clump, right where the attacks were heading.

"N-"

The Water Gods cry fell on deaf ears, not that there was anything that could be done. All four evaporated in an explosion of magic.

"No!" The Water God screamed. "We left this shit behind us-"

"-Be quiet." Esperit cut him off. "He's not done yet."

Magical circles emerged near the feet of the Old Gods, each of their respective colour. Blue men, Fire Lords, Angels and a Dryad, a shapely woman made a tree, emerged and surrounded their gods. Anton noticed the White Girl, still alive, crawling as surreptitiously as possible towards the dead Dragons.

The upper ceiling exploded and caved inwards. Longinious shouted but Anton barely heard her. The creatures rushed to defend their Gods, swatting away the falling debris with their powerful magic, but Anton knew, somehow, that was not the actual attack. Sure enough, the child flew through the gap into the centre of the White Spire with an even longer spear in his hands. He darted through the falling rocks, slashing at the creatures, killing them nearly instantly and dove for the White Girl. She thrust out a trembling hand. The boy flew over her, grabbed her hand and sped out, darting and weaving around the tumbling debris. He kicked at the air and shot up the empty central space. It had only lasted a few seconds but for Anton everything felt like it was happening on slow motion.

"Shit!" The Water God petulantly stomped his foot as the Blue Men pushed aside the ceiling debris. "Do you know how much mana I just lost? Do you know how much it takes to summon level ten creatures that quickly? And, might I add, I'd already lost-"

"Of course we do." Tethra stared at the remains of one of her angels. "We all lost mana to his attack."

"Little bastard's the only one fighting back." Nithroel spat on the floor. A Dryad moved to clean it but she waved it away. "At least we know how to deal with Trellos's creations."

Anton was not surprised to hear the boy was Trellos. Far from it, but news that he was the only fighter certainly was.

"Come." Flames began to swirl around Esperit's feet. "There's no point trying to bind a Deity when they're not present. Though it would have gone a long way to stabilise our world."

You're talking like you're raiding energy. Raiding Gods?...Did it not work? And then you had to flee to this one?

One by one the Old Gods left, leaving Tethra behind with the chains made of light. She stared at them, her body shivered as she threw them into the ground, over and over like a child throwing a tantrum. Each strike gouged out more floor, the angels said and did nothing, and broke another link in the chain. When only a single link remained she stopped and all were enveloped in a white light, leaving the room silent and still.

Anton pulled himself away from the wall. "They've certainly changed. And I don't know if it's for the better."

"Nothing has approached us from behind," Longinious spoke firmly. "Nor from the outside. I did, however, track those two that fled to three levels above us."

"And how did you do that?"

Only one of Longinious's spheres floated over his head. He found the other by a small opening to the central space, the opening was rough, almost like it had been recently blown apart.

Longinious picked up on his impending question. "When there was a lot of noise. It sounded like someone was being thrown about in there."

"There was." Anton sighed. "My Gods aren't as I know them. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I only knew them after this, not that I knew this had even happened. I wonder if it would have changed anything?"

"Do we follow them, Anton?" Longinious's second sphere returned to over his head. "They might know of a way to return home. And you might be able to use what just happened to your advantage."

"Pity? Or empathy?" Anton began walking towards the next flight of stairs.

"Perhaps both." He was certain Longinious shrugged. "Or simply tell them the truth. If they're wounded and vulnerable they might not just attack you on sight. That might be the only way you'll be able to talk to them without exchanging blows."

Anton silently agreed and began the ascent.

---[]---

“This is the level,” Longinious said softly.

The White Creatures were not present on the subsequent levels. They were not dead, like the mysterious murders on the first level, but had simply disappeared. They hadn’t passed Anton so either they had moved to a higher level or found a different way down to the battle on the ground floor. Anton had glanced down, now the White Creatures had pushed the intruders to the breaches, even the door that Anton slipped through. If it weren’t for the veritable legions of Dragons that had descended from the upper levels Anton knew the battle would have already concluded.

“Yeah…” Anton glanced back, searching but not hearing or seeing anything. “Looks like they haven’t run out of those Dragon things.”

The room they found themselves at was unnaturally long and contained four of the bright blue crystals. Anton did not try and break them just to see if they would grant Longinious more Essence. He was also worried that it might do something harmful and without Longinious he was completely defenceless. Beyond the four crystals lay a giant door, nearly identical to the one outside, guarded by four Dragons. They held lances and large shields, waiting in a tight formation with little space between them. If they ran along the room there would be no room to escape. If they would actually destroy the blue crystals to kill them Anton didn’t know.

“I’m certain this is the floor,” Longinious said. “If they’re still here they’ll be behind that door.”

“So how do we get in without them killing us? We’ve killed over a thousand of them.”

“They can talk.” Longinious sniggered. “Maybe you should try that first? If not, we can always run down to the next level. That was pretty narrow and we can deal with one of them at a time. Oh, imagine how much Essence I could take from one of those.”

Almost sounds like you want this to fail, not that you do…At least I hope you don’t.

Anton flexed his shoulders, not that his body ached, and stepped forward. The Dragons noticed his presence instantly but didn’t move to attack. Instead they gripped their weapons tight, raised their shield and locked eyes with Anton’s ethereal body.

Crap. What to say?

“Hello.”

Smooth.

The Dragons glanced at one another but said nothing.

“Can you understand me?”

A Dragon gnashed its teeth, it stepped forward and lowered its weapon.

"I've been stuck in this world for some time." Anton ensured his words were clear and the Dragons understood him. "And I'm just trying to get back home. But I can’t. Is there someone I can speak with that might be able to help?"

Here goes nothing.

"Agal perhaps?" The Dragons tensed but Anton continued. "I heard that Agal's very smart."

"Where did you hear that, outsider?" The Dragon's speech was slow and deliberate. He was unsure of the language.

And this is where it all falls apart.

"From a Goblin. Outside of this Spire."

"And where-"

"He tried to kill me." Anton kept his voice flat. "He saw me and immediately tried to kill me. I have only defended myself from those that have tried to kill me. Nothing more."

At least outside that's true.

The Dragons looked at one another but didn't immediately respond. Anton tapped on Longinious, they had yet to ask about her. Perhaps there were more sentiment weapons scattered throughout this realm and it was a common occurrence. Anton almost smiled imagining the fit Longinious would certainly throw if he called her common.

"Do not move." A dragon tapped on the door. With small hatch opened through which a slim Sky Eel slithered through. "We will hear what they have to say. They will decide your fate."

Very dramatic, but also very accurate.

"Be ready," Anton whispered. "If they do attack they might try something from behind. Or below."

"I'm ready when you give the word." Longinious's voice was soft but also determined.

The Dragons stared at Anton unblinkingly. Anton tried to act calm by looking out the small gap in the wall formed by the columns.

"The battle's..." Anton cut himself off. Anything he said could offend the Dragons, especially if he commented on their war. At least it still appeared to be heading in their favour. For now at least.

The door groaned and the Sky Eel returned. It floated up to the Dragon's ear, at least where the ear should be, and whispered something in their native language. The Dragon snarled as the Sky Eel rolled over and darted back through the door.

"Agal will speak with you." The Dragons parted but kept their eyes trained squarely on Anton. "But do not think she is weak or defenceless. You will soon be proven very wrong."

Another Dragon shifted his shield. "And do not think to use that weapon either. A new weapon should not have such strength."

Anton said nothing, he doubted if he had any expression, but didn't want to reveal Longinious's origins. Conflict certainly lay down that route.

"Thank you. I will remain calm and not act in any violent way."

The Dragon snorted but offered no rebuke.

"Keep your spheres trained on them." Anton began walking towards the door. "Scream if they try and attack. There won't be time for anything else."

"Understood."

As Anton approached half of the door opened. Beyond was yet another plain room with a large floating crystal, green this time. Anton kept his attention firmly on the Dragons. His body tensed as he moved into their strike range. The Dragons clearly held themselves back, their muscles twitched and clawed feet ground at the white floor. One frowned as he realised Anton had similar features but did not vocalise his concerns.

Only when Anton passed through, and the door closed behind him, did his body begin to relax. While the room was plain, relatively speaking, the large green crystal hovered above a pool of shimmering liquid silver. The smaller crystals orbiting the central stopped and reversed direction.

"Who are you?" A gentle voice asked.

Only then did he realise someone was resting near the silver pool, a small White Child with a flowing dress. Judging by the marks on her form she was the child tormented by Nithroel and, to a lesser extent, Tethra.

"My name is Anton. Are you Agal?"

The child turned its featureless face to Anton. "And if I am?"

"I'd like to know how to return home." Anton tapped the floor. "This isn't where I belong."

"No." Agal struggled to stand. "No, it is not."

A white light gathered in her hand, faint bursts of black lightning sporadically burst out. Out of the light a solid cylinder of White Marble grew until it touched the floor. Agal shifted her weight onto her creation, a simple cane.

"You seem..."

"What?" Agal stepped forward.

"You seem far more... Mature than when I first saw you."

"First?" Agal stepped back. "Explain yourself before I have Trellos's Guardians destroy you."

Anton took a deep breath. "I've been to this world before. I don't know how long ago it was. But, but I found you, all of you, playing like children in a small clearing far from this Spire. Just before," Anton pointed down. "They arrived."

Agal stared at Anton for some time, completely unmoving. The green crystals stopped and reversed their rotation.

“So it was you.” Agal tapped her cane. “You were the one that interfered.”

“I didn’t mean to. I wanted to find a way home and that child, Trellos, tried to infuse a Dragon doll with some sort of energy.” Anton raised his foot and manoeuvred his tail to his side. “Then I became like this. And I can’t find a way to fix it.”

“How…How long ago did you see this?” Agal appeared genuinely confused.

“Almost an entire season outside,” Anton said. “But when I was trapped in here it was only a few minutes.”

Agal looked at the large green crystal. “The battle has not been raging for long.”

“And yet you no longer act like a child,” Anton said softly.

Agal turned back to him. “We had no choice. No choice if we wanted to survive.”

“Is there a way to send me back?”

Agal did not answer. Her attention lay focused on Longinious, especially the purple spheres. “I’d like to know how you created that. Actually, one of the Obelisks of Creation was destroyed. And not by their activity. I presume that was your work?”

“Master was only trying to defend himself from an unprovoked attack,” Longinious said sternly. “He did not mean to destroy anything, even though his life was threatened.”

Agal accepted Longinious’s answer and approached the large green crystal. She plucked one of the smaller crystals from its orbit and brought it close to her chest.

“While I would like to know exactly how you were able to create a sentient weapon on your first attempt-”

It was entirely by accident.

“-There might be a way to return you to your world. Wherever that is. What world did you come from? It’s clearly not this one.”

“I come from…” Anton hesitated. “This place is like the ‘Godly Realm’ of that world. A world with green grass, blue skies and seas. Snow-capped mountains that soar into the sky and cleave through the clouds. Surely...Surely you know of that?”

“Green? Green grass?” Agal chuckled. “What a strange place you speak of.”

Does our world not exist yet? That means, without the Old Gods, no one I know would ever exist. So they are destined to win, otherwise it would create some sort of paradox? Am I about to destroy everything? Unless it’s already happened, destined to happen and I’m just going through the motions. That nothing I’m doing actually matters.

“Regardless-”

“There is a way.” Agal raised her hand. “But not here. Only the very top of the spire holds enough energy, and the barriers between dimensions thin enough, to send a being to another world.”

“Can we go there then? I...I would like to get home as soon as possible. Many people are going to be very worried to see me unconscious and bleeding on the ground. I want to see them again.”

Again Agal regarded him with some suspicion. “I can walk now. So, it’s best if we take the elevator. We can reach the top floor very quickly.”

“And the war below?” Longinious asked as Agal lead them to the far wall. “You aren’t worried about that? They tried to kill you.”

What’s with this sudden concern? Or is it just a show of empathy, just to make sure that Agal pities and helps us?

“Trellos has the situation under control.” Agal held the green crystal in one hand and rested the other flat against the wall. “He wants us to keep back our creations, just in case they actually start to cause some damage.”

“You mean the outer wall of the spire collapsing isn’t a big deal for you?”

Agal smiled. “Not yet, at least.”

Anton didn’t believe it. If Trellos hadn’t arrived she would be dead, likely constricted and bound by the glowing chains. If they weren’t in a desperate situation now he hated to wonder what would count.

Agal’s fingers began to glow exceedingly bright. She drew a series of concentric interconnected rings on the smooth white wall. Part of the wall clicked and revealed a doorway. Inside lay an empty cylinder, like an elevator. Agal stepped aside as something flew out of the elevator, catching Anton in the chest and throwing him across the room. Longinious screamed in anger, her two smaller spheres detaching and fired wildly at the source. As Anton slumped down against the wall, Longinious’s light blasts were faint and distant in his mind, a being floated before him. Trellos. Longinious fired her central bolt of light directly at his head. Trellos deflected it with his own spear.

“I thought I felt a strange presence with you,” Trellos now spoke softly, almost effeminate, but nothing about the way he spoke or carried himself indicated any weakness. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Agal looked at the small green crystal in her hand. “I thought that taking one of these would be more than enough to let you know. I don’t know what they’re capable of but they aren’t hostile. At least not yet.”

Trellos’s feet touched the ground.

“I doubt that.” Trellos levelled the spear to Anton’s throat. “I had some more creatures to deal with, my Dragons were having trouble with them. But not anymore.”

“So…” Anton found it hard to speak. The centre of his chest had turned to the white sand, the outer surface speckled with charred grains. How hard had Trellos struck him? Not with his spear, surely. It would have travelled right through him.

“I’m sorry that I stole your magic.” Anton coughed. The wound was fading, even the burnt sections. “From that Dragon...Figure. I didn’t mean to do it. I just wanted someone to notice me, so I could find a way home.”

Trellos said nothing, staring at Anton’s face with his own featureless face.

“When they arrived you stepped back and I absorbed that white energy. Somehow. And it did this to me.” Anton raised his feet and looked at his tail. “It’s caused me problems...But nowhere near as much as you’ve received.”

“The first of your kind that’s not a condescending fool.”

I think we had the same discussion with the Centaurs.

“What do you want with us? Outsider?”

“To go home.” Anton knew he sounded a little angry. “I never wanted to come here in the first place. And I just want to go home. And not wait the long way.”

Trellos tilted his head. He slowly stepped back to Agal and whispered furiously into her ear.

“Master,” Longinious whispered. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t touch him. He’s very strong. Unbelievably strong. Far stronger than the other gods and their creations.”

“Do you think you could defeat him?” Anton tapped the disappearing wound. Already the burnt grains had disappeared.

“If I could absorb the Essence of a thousand Dragons and a thousand of your gods’ best creatures...Maybe. If he was distracted.”

“That bad then.” Anton slowly stood up, using the wall for stability. “Let’s not piss him off then. Right?”

“Right.”

Trellos stopped speaking with Agal. “We don’t have enough energy in the Central Crystal to send anyone to another world, let alone one as distant as the one you described.”

“Are you using that power to fight the invaders?” Anton asked. He slowly stepped forward.

“We are.” Trellos looked up, to where the bright central crystal hung in the centre of the White Spire. “We cannot use much more without causing damage to the structure. If...If you were to help us drive them back we could easily send you to your world.”

Or just destroy me the moment I’m of no use. Your creations didn’t have any qualms about slaughtering me on the spot. Not the mention...I don’t think you win.

“I don’t know how much help I could be.” Anton tapped Longinious’s shaft. “Maybe against some of the weaker creatures but nothing too large, nothing like their equivalent of your Dragons.”

“Absorbing their Essences…”

Trellos frowned towards the wall facing the outside of the White Spire. He lowered his spear towards the wall, moving in front of Agal. The entire wall began to crack and crumble away. A humanoid creature floated outside, a glowing white creature with four arms and a harsh, angular face. Beside her floated another four smaller angels, identical to the angel the Fire Lord had tried to protect.

“Get back!”

Trellos pushed Agal towards the elevator, he cared not for Anton. A white field surrounded her. Light surrounded the hands of the four angels and beams shot out towards Trellos. Trellos shrugged off the beams of light and threw the spear at an Angel. The Angel shrieked as the spear cut through her, severing her body in two. The others paid her no mind, even as her body plummeted to the ground, and continued to attack. Agal reached the elevator as white wings burst from Trellos’s back and he leapt into the fray. The larger Angel finally reacted and blocked his strike. It took all four of her hands to hold back his spear but she could stop his attack. Just.

“You don’t belong here.” Trellos tried to rip the spear free. The white light on the Angel’s hands shattered, blood seeped from dozens of tiny cuts but the Angel was unphased. “Go back to your smouldering ruins.”

Definitely have grown up from giggling children. What was that about a smouldering ruin?

“We cannot return.” The Angel’s soft voice echoed and reverberated strangely. “And I will not sacrifice our followers for your kind.”

Trellos threw his spear at another of the Small Angles. The Large Angel swatted the spear aside, shredding and breaking her hand. As the spear began to fly back the Large Angel raised her other hands, not at Trellos but at the Green Crystal in the centre of the room.

“Get away from there!” Agal yelled as the elevator’s doors closed.

Trellos charged at the Large Angel but he was too late. The beams of light struck the Green Crystal, disintegrating the smaller spinning crystals before breaking the edge of the giant crystal. Green light burst out of the cracks and the crystal exploded. Anton’s vision was overwhelmed as he flew backwards. He smashed into the far wall, his hand managed to keep a hold of Longinious before he felt himself begin to fall. Panic and fear filled his every thought as he came to a terrifying conclusion. He was falling. The air buffeted his body, tossing and spinning his form as he fell helplessly down towards the ground below. His eyes locked onto a broken shard of the White Spire, resting against the main structure at a steep angle.

“Damn it!” Longinious’s voice was barely audible over the rushing wind. “I couldn’t-”

“Can you move me towards that broken fragment?! I might be able to slow down against that thing. My body’s a lot stronger than it normally is.”

“I’ll try!”

Longinious began to fire everything she could. When the larger sphere fired he moved ever so slightly. Just as he was starting to relax, as much as one could when hurtling to his potential death, a white beam of light struck his hand holding Longinious.

“Master!”

Longinious tumbled away beyond Anton’s reach and struck the White Spire, bouncing off and flying away towards the golden forests below.

Anton looked above him. One of the Small Angels followed him down, maintaining a large distance as she continued to attack him.

“Fuck off!” Anton yelled, petulantly thrashing as a bolt struck his leg, turning his ethereal form into gritty sand. “I don’t want to be here! And I’m not helping them either!”

The Angel either did not hear or care as she continued to attack. For the first time in ages Anton felt truly helpless. Normally he had some weapon, someone or something to rely on but now he was completely defenceless. He could only watch the Angel batter his body with hit after hit.

“I’ll find your god and rip their head off!” Anton shouted.

His back hit something, sending him tumbling further away from the White Spire. In the distance he saw Longinious, still tumbling away White Spire. Another blast of light struck his arm and rendered it immobile.

Something caught his eye. A dark speck moved at great speed towards the Angel parallel to Anton. A Dragon wielding a very long pike. Anton did not know whether to feel dread or elation. The creature beat its wings and flew up, pointing its weapon at the Angel. She continued following Anton but raised her hands towards the Dragon. The blasts of light barely phased the Dragon as it flew higher, pulled its wings close and dove towards her.

“You will not interfere.” The Angel’s voice reverberated, even through the rushing air.

The Angel shot a final blast at Anton’s chest before flying away to deal with the Dragon. She only managed a single volley before the Dragon threw the pike and impaled her. The Angel screamed as she plummeted to the ground, trashing and writhing against the white pike jutting out of her stomach.

Anton wanted to cheer but he was rapidly approaching the ground. Longinious had long since vanished from his sight and he was nearing the next part of the broken sliver of the wall. He shouted to the Dragon, there was little else he could do, but the creature ignored him. It flew back up to the battle and began to fight the other Angels.

“You could have fucking dragged me up there too!”

Anton knew he was shouting into the void but there was little else he could do. His thoughts only drifted to those he might leave behind as he struck the surface of the White Spire’s broken outer wall again and again. With each impact his head began to turn to the white sand. After a few hits it was nearly impossible to think, a few more and he fell completely unconscious. No mind falling back into the inky blackness but simply ceasing to be. Ceasing to think. By the time he reached halfway his body was nothing more than a white rag-doll, an insignificant speck tumbling down towards the ground as the battle raged unabated.

Volume 05 - Chapter 60.1 - (Interlude) - Ivano & The Blood Berserkers

"I miss the bear." Hild muttered. He nestled himself deeper into his mother's arms. "He was so fluffy and warm. He really liked it when I gave him bits of fish too. Licked at my face when he wanted more."

"I'm sorry, but they couldn't come with us." Sibbe gave him a gentle kiss on his snowflake covered head. "Borstig had to stay, well... Wanted to stay with Ulfheid. So the cute bear had to stay as well."

Sibbe gave his hair a rough tussle. “And I thought the bear was cute too.”

Ivano, doubting if that was actually true, chuckled as their cart jostled over a craggy section of the road. "I don't think he had much of a choice in the matter. Ulfheid wasn’t about to let thatgo."

Ivano looked back along their convoy. It had grown somewhat after leaving Reynisnes. Some Wind Walker Clansmen were eager to travel beyond their fortified city, nestled safely in the rocks against the constant howling winds, and explore their lands. They weren't the best warriors, many were quite young, or old in the case of four old men who were taking this as a final chance to travel and drink themselves into oblivion while doing it. Arlid and Arvid were more than happy to assist with that. Ivano knew, at the very least, they would bulk up their numbers. He hoped for more but planned for less.

"Ivano." One of their newer members rode towards them, throwing up plumes of snow that covered the infrequently travelled road. His short and hairy horse sneezed away the snow that had been forced up its nose. "There's a Temple marker ahead. Looks old and damaged."

He pointed to a large stone marker to the side of the road. Unlike the other simple grey stone markers, which sat in pairs either side of the road to guide them safely through potentially a half dozen feet of snow, this was out of the way with the top half coloured red. It looked like wet paint had been poured over the top. Or perhaps blood.

"I don't think we have any reason to do that." Ivano replied. "Our destination is Rangarvellir. Not a remote temple."

"Who is it dedicated to anyway?" Sibbe asked.

"Jira. The Demi-Goddess of Blood."

Ivano nodded to the red marker. "I think we should definitely stay away from there then. Those...Those Blood Berserkers, or whatever they're called, are some of the most insane people I have ever met. Utterly insane. Especially in battle. And if one of them has gone a little bit crazy, well, I don't think it's as abandoned as it seems."

The rider gave a curt nod and briskly returned to the front of the convoy.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

For a moment Ivano thought it was one of the twins, rather it was Erik. He, and the former slave Unina walked alongside their rickety cart, following the path already cleared by their stout and sturdy horses.

“What do you mean?” Ivano waved them onto the cart. He was surprised they were even walking on foot in the first place.

Erik made the climb easily. Unina struggled, requiring Erik to help her up.

“Thank you.” She dusted the wet snow from her cloak.

“Unina? Was it?” Ivano turned to face them. “You must forgive me for not remembering your name immediately. I haven’t had much of a chance to speak with you during this whole mess.”

“I don’t think there’s much to say.” Unina smiled. Her dark skin made her stand out amongst the pale Clansmen. Some of the small villages they’d passed through thought she was dirty, or they had punished her by coating her with dried tar. Those misconceptions took some time to explain, when they even bothered. “I was taken by the Seocurian Empire, then sold to Mord. Who, and I cannot thank you enough, you rescued me from. I've merely been traveling with you all ever since.”

She held Erik’s hand. “And I’ve met someone very special.”

Ivano held his tongue as the two shared a loving smile. “I now that I said we’d release you back to Bebbezzar,” He raised his hand before either could speak. “And I still intend to, if that’s what you want, but you have to understand that we’re not heading in the right direction.”

Unina shrugged. “I don’t want to return to my village only to find it rubble, or that others have settled there and none even know… No. I think I will stay here. It’s certainly more interesting than being Mord’s slave.”

Less beatings too.

“Chieftain.” The first rider returned. His horse seemed quite annoyed to be still shovelling its way back and forth through the snow. “There’s movement along the road. Not from the temple. I think it’s a trading caravan.”

Ivano stood up on the gently rocking cart. His wife and three children held his legs for support. It was difficult to see anything in the near endless winding fields of white, dotted by rocks and forests, but he could see something. A small dark dot following a path between the tall stones.

“Why do you think it’s traders?”

“They’re moving very slowly. And they’re using carts even larger than ours, their horses are straining to push through the snow with so much weight.”

“Poor things.” Ivano muttered as he resumed his seat. “Keep a good eye on them. Tell me if they’re actually up to no good.”

“Yes, Chieftain.”

The rider quickly returned to the front, the horse seemed happy to be following the cleared path, if only for a few moments.

“Where are Snakha and Brenna?”

“Back there.” Erik pointed to the last cart, one bought from Graterious, which made it the largest and slowest. It was also the only source of any privacy while on the move, thanks to its large cloth hooped canopy. “They haven’t left in a while.”

Ivano sighed, his shoulders dropped dramatically. “We can’t have two of our best warriors busy while we’ve got what could be a bandit caravan coming the other way.”

“Snakha?” Unina tilted her head slightly. “That’s the Orc. Right?”

“Yes.” Erik replied almost instantly. “He seems alright. A bit loud, but I haven’t really met any Orcs before.”

“Does that mean Brenna’s going to have Half-Orc babies?” Unina’s voice remained flat and without a hint of malice. “Is that even possible? I'm sure the babies will be very large. If they are then it’s going to be very difficult for them as they grow up, if what I’ve seen is anything similar.”

“I don’t think it is.” Ivano gently pushed past his children to the rear of the cart. “We definitely would have heard about them before.”

“They do have Thralls.” Sibbe said softly. “But… I really don’t know what that means.”

As he readied to jump into the snow something stopped Ivano. He turned to Unina, who watched his children play. “What do you mean similar?”

Unina tensed slightly. “Our village was right on the border with Seocuria. So we saw Beast-kin slaves trying to escape, not many but there were a few.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Erik muttered.

“But there was one group that came through, when I was very young. There were about five or six, all wearing tattered clothes as they tried to steal some of our food. The men caught them and held them captive for the Seocurians…” She sighed. “One time we pretended not to have seen anything. They found one hiding in a home and burnt it down, so we, they, always just waited to hand the back. The Seocurian’s never gave us any trouble. Until they took our village.”

“So what were these five?” Sibbe asked. Unina immediately looked better to be on a different topic.

“They looked like they were Humans and Beast-kin squished together.” Unina shrugged. “I don’t know another way to describe it. One had their right body covered in fur and claws for hands. Another had patches of this leathery skin over their body, their mouth filled with teeth like an angry wolf instead of… Well, like ours.”

I wonder if that Wolf Beast-kin is still alive in Rangarvellir? If he’s been given any extra food, or just been replaced when he was used up.

“I remember one had legs like a chicken, and had feathers for hair.”

“Like a chicken?” Erik almost laughed. “Are there Beast-kin that look like that?”

Sibbe threw him a look, one telling him to immediately shut his mouth. Erik obeyed without question.

“I… I don’t know. But they were begging the men to let them go. They’d been living in the countryside their whole lives, that they couldn’t go anywhere else. They’d be killed if they were caught in Bebbezzar, killed by the other Beast-kin in Seocuria, and the Seocurian’s would sell them as freaks. They didn’t have anyone but each other.”

“I’ve heard of Half-Breeds.” Ivano said. “Never seen one, but it’s never good.”

“So what happened?” Erik asked.

Unina shrugged. “They were taken back. Some Seocurian Lord wanted them, something about being obsessed with them. I don’t remember what the Seocurian’s said. I was too young. But only one was brought back.”

Unina’s eyes grew distant. “Two cut their own throats with stone blades they’d hidden, the other three attacked and killed a few of the Seocurians, and they couldn’t capture them. They didn’t even make it back across the river alive. Though I remember them smiling, covered in blood. They seemed happy they weren’t going back to Seocuria. For them, it was better to have died than be in a cage.”

Ivano softly sighed. “Another tragic tale. But there’s nothing that we can do for them now.” He dropped off the back cart and briskly walked to maintain pace. “Best get everyone ready, just in case.”

---[]---

“Doesn’t look too bad.” Snakha held a large, green hand to his oversized brow. “I’d say it’s a bunch of poor traders, trying to peddle whatever cheap crap they bought in Rangarvellir. Which was stolen from the Lowlanders.”

Ivano stood on the leading cart, with Snakha and Brenna beside him, watching the other group slowly carve their way through the snow. The two had, thankfully, just decided to take an unearned rest while everyone else walked. Ivano promised himself to have a talk to them later but he knew now was not the time.

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Ivano muttered.

Their two convoys were going to meet at the marker for the temple to Jira. There was no issue with passing, unless the other convoy planned to be obstinate mules and not share the road, but that was the least of his concerns.

“Here we go.” Ivano gently nudged Sibbe. “Make sure the children stay down.”

Sibbe returned a single nod and ushered the children to lie flat on the floor. They knew it was not a game and obeyed without question, even holding each other for comfort.

A single rider emerged from the opposing convoy. It appeared to be the only spare horse they had. More men than horses.

At least they’ll be too tired to fight…

The solitary rider met theirs, spoke quickly before they returned as a group. Compared to theirs the rider before them was little more than a vagabond; ragged layers of cheap furs, a slightly gaunt face that a bushy beard could not hide the skin flaking from his cheeks in small sheets.

“Are you heading to Rangarvellir?” The man’s voice was as haggard as his appearance.

“We are. Everything alright?”

The rider shrugged. “Suppose so. As good as can be considering what we just heard. There’s a bit of commotion on the other side of those mountains after we passed through. Lots of screaming and the sound of howling wind. Worse than the most powerful blizzard. We left as quickly as we could and haven’t looked back. We’re just traders, not warriors.”

The simple axe resting on his hip was incredibly old, well-worn and almost all covered in rust. It was clear the edge had been sharpened hundreds if not thousands of times, delicately, so as to not wear away too much of the precious metal blade.

The rider lent to the side, to show he was looking at the rest of the convoy. “I think you’ll have better luck than us if you’re planning to actually go that way.”

Something flashed through the rider’s face. Apprehension with a hint of fear, fear that he had said something he shouldn’t.

“So what are you doing coming through here in the dead of winter?” He asked as a rough gloved hand slowly manoeuvred to his axe.

“We are not raiders or pillagers.” Ivano spoke softly in an attempt to calm the man. “Rangarvellir is our destination. And I am Ivano… Chieftain of the Fire Blades.”

The Rider did not seem convinced. Word had not likely spread, and if their convoy always remained ahead of the very slow spread of news throughout the Deweth Clans then it was not surprising they did not know.

“We had business in Reynisnes, so we are taking the fastest route, but we are not beyond helping those in need. Considering your state, we are more than willing to share food, if your people need it.”

The rider relaxed slightly, still very wary that he may have accidentally led his people into a trap.

“Or medicine.” Brenna offered. “I know a few treatments for your skin. Are there others that suffer from it?”

“We haven’t been doing well.” The rider’s face twisted in annoyance. “Not many Clansmen want to buy anything these days… And my father said it was bad…”

Ivano glanced to the rear of their convoy, to where he knew Gavriel was huddled up with multiple thick blankets. After leaving Reynisnes he had grown slightly more despondent, knowing they were not only partially heading in the right direction but also to the capital of the Deweth Clansmen. Ivano did not know if he feared he would be taken from Ivano’s protection, which might happen, but he knew there was little he could say to allay the Bebbezzarians' concerns.

Maybe he knows something of medicine? Or a way to help these traders actually turn a profit? That should cheer him up. Something other than watching the endless snowdrifts passing.

“Many of us are. But we’ve been eating well. Lots of game and good hunting… We found a whole herd of deer that had been cornered in a canyon by a snowdrift.” The Rider’s eyes lit up, his mind quickly returning to a memory of hot and plentiful food. “We ate well for quite a while.”

“Probably a lack of vegetables then. My mother…” Brenna shuddered before taking a deep breath. “She always told me to eat them otherwise that would happen.”

“Not much of it spare these days.”

“I’m sure that we can spare some.” Ivano said. “I think we’re going to meet up at the red marker anyway.”

“Yes…” The Rider frowned as he looked back. “Maybe it’s for the best that we met here. I’ve never liked those Jira worshippers. “Some of them are absolutely crazy. Madder than a stabbed rat.”

“I’ve only met a few. Never a pretty sight.” Ivano cleared his throat. “Tell the rest of your caravan that we mean no harm.”

The Rider returned a curt nod and quickly left.

“Unless they’re bandits.” Snakha hefted his might axe in his hand, spinning the handle and admiring the large and dulled edge. While it would have difficulty cutting Snakha's sheer strength more than compensated. “Been a while since I’ve fought something.”

“They didn’t say anything about an Orc being with us either.” Brenna added.

“We’ll see if that’s a good thing.” Ivano watched the opposing caravan draw ever closer. “Let’s just hope…”

He trailed off as he looked towards the seemingly abandoned temple. While it was far away he was certain he saw movement, only a few people, but with magic users that was all that was ever needed. He instructed some of the warriors to keep watch as they reached the red marker first.

Ivano turned his attention to the marker. It was almost identical to the others, little more than an upright stone to guide travellers. The red paint was more than likely blood, frozen and able to retain most of its red lustre, but a few simple etchings lying beneath. The most obvious was a large red droplet, a symbol of Jira, The Demi-Goddess of Blood, above which lay a crudely drawn human with its throat cut.

That’s clearly been here for a very long time, just can’t help but feel that it’s a bad omen.

The opposing caravan drew close enough to hear their grunts of exertion and the creaking of their wooden carts. If Ivano was honest they looked worse than the Rider, with more flaking and raw skin, yellow eyes and the faintest trickles of diluted blood in the corners of their mouths.

Ivano again looked at the temple. This time he could not see any sign of movement.

“Hello!” Ivano smiled as warmly as he could and gave a hearty wave. “We did not expect to meet travellers on the road.”

The opposing caravan waited until they had drawn much closer before responding. They were exhausted but determined, determined to make the dangerous and strenuous journey through the dead of winter.

“Nor did we.” An older man broke away from the caravan, angrily pushing away the snow as the Rider moved alongside. “The roads are normally abandoned around this time… My brother, he mentioned that you might know what’s happening to us?”

The caravan leader was in slightly better shape than the rider but only just. Brenna quickly dismounted and approached, somehow with several small vegetables in her hands. Snakha merely shrugged when Ivano looked back. She and the caravan leader began to talk about what was happening to them and what could be done to fix it. The rest of the opposing caravan simply appeared glad to have stopped and took the opportunity to rest.

“Where’s Gavriel?” Ivano asked loudly. “I’m sure that he’d want to have a word with these traders.”

“Why do you think that?” Came Gavriel’s almost snippy reply. He trudged along their stationary caravan, holding a thick fur blanket tight to his chest. “Because we’re both interested in turning a profit we must magically get along?”

“Don’t you?” Snakha asked flatly. Gavriel stared at the Orc, unsure if it was mocking but too intimidated by his size to do anything more provocative. “I… I’m being serious here. The Orc Clans aren’t really known for their great… What’s the right word? Economy? Money… ness?”

Gavriel shook his head as he walked past the cart. “How can you be less accurate the second time?”

Snakha chuckled as Gavriel began to talk with the Rider. He seemed quite perplexed as to why a Bebbezzarian was traveling with them, one allowed to move about freely.

Ivano opened his mouth but a loud knock on the edge of the cart stopped him. A warrior pointed towards the temple, he did not need to speak for Ivano to know what was wrong. Two small figures walked through the thick snow towards them. They did not appear to be in any great hurry yet they moved with purpose and confidence.

“Shit…” Ivano glanced at his children. He hoped they would not learn their swears until much later, Sibbe did not chastise him but followed his sight as she allowed the children to rise up slightly. “That’s all we need.”

“Do we try and run?” Snakha asked. “Can we even escape fast enough?”

Snakha lent close. “We only need to outrun them.”

Ivano looked once again to the figures approaching through the snow. “I don’t think it’s going to make much difference which one they go after first. Just one of them might be strong enough to kill us all. We’ve a better chance if we stick together.”

“A good sling can kill a Mage.” Snakha produced an empty sling and held a large stone in his hand. “Won it from a drunk Wind Walker. He didn’t seem too happy, but I helped him chop a bit of firewood to make up for it.”

“Right… Just keep that thing ready.”

A cry came from the opposing caravan. They too had noticed the approaching figures and had begun to panic. Ivano briefly wondered if they had swindled the Jira disciples before and feared their retribution.

“Those bastards.” The caravan leader barely refrained from swearing. “Now? Of all times?”

He looked to his caravan. They could barely consider moving. No possible chance of escaping even a walking man.

“We should wait for them.” Ivano said. “Unless you have some reason to fear them specifically, other than potentially being Blood Berserkers?”

“Haven’t been this way in many winters. I just don’t want anything to do with those crazies.”

“Neither do I. But if we do try and run... We’ll get through this and then be on our way. Snakha? Can you find anyone else that uses a sling? No matter how bad they are.”

The Orc gave a single nod before jumping from the cart. The caravan leader threw Ivano an odd look.

“Orcs? Is that a good idea? Not the most reliable of… People.”

Ivano shrugged. “So far, so good. Besides, I’d rather have that Orc with me than against.”

I wonder if he’d still be killing his fellow Orcs if we hadn’t lost in Qaiviel. Where would I be?

---[]---

The two caravans essentially merged together as they watched the two figures descend from the temple. Very little was said between the two groups, yet there was an air of cooperation. Unspoken unity in the face of a potentially lethal adversary. As for the two people they continued their descent from the temple without slowing or breaking their stride regardless of the snow depth. Only when they neared the blood soaked marker did they even begin to acknowledge the caravan's presence.

One raised his hand and waved. Deep scars riddled his arms, overlapping in some places so heavily that there was no original skin. Ivano wondered just how painful and restrictive it would be to even flex their fingers. Perhaps most concerning was how lightly they dressed for the snow yet showed no concern for the cold. Much to his relief he did not see the glowing red eyes of a Blood Berserker ready to strike. He did not know how long it took to ready themselves but with everything he'd heard it sounded less than a single breath.

Probably get my arm backwards when they throw one of those shards through my throat.

“Hello, fellow travellers.” The man spoke softly. “May we borrow a moment of your time?”

The innocent question raised some alarm from both caravans, scared people searching for a deeper meaning. Ivano tried his best to calm their concerns, as did the opposing Caravan Leader.

“And what would that be?” The opposing Caravan Leader asked.

“You just came over those mountains? Correct?”

“We did…”

“Marvellous.” The second man clapped his scarred hands together. He kept them together and pointed at the opposing Caravan Leader. “You haven’t happened to have spotted a Dragon, have you?”

Silence descended. A brief gust of wind picked up, whistling through the still caravans.

“A what?” Arlid asked.

“A Dragon.” The first man continued with the same enthusiasm. “A massive creature, covered in scales and capable of flight. Strong arms that could easily break a tree in half with just a swipe of its claws.”

“I haven’t seen any Dragons.” The opposing Caravan leader nervously laughed. “And why would you think that we had? I don’t think we could even hunt a baby Wyvern, let alone an adult.”

“Jira, our most gracious Goddess…” The first man trailed off. He closed his eyes, muttering something while the second continued to watch the caravan. “Has tasked us with slaying a specific Dragon. Apparently it has come through this way and we are determined to find it.”

“We have a tremendous view from our remote refuge.” The second disciple pointed to the temple. “But we have been unable to find such a large beast, despite its size and supposed temperament. When we saw travellers risking this road we thought to ask. Jira…” He smiled warmly. “Jira isn’t the most forthcoming Goddess at times, but she’s never balked at asking others for information.”

“Only asking others to do her requests for us.” Said the first. “That really, really rankles her.”

“Well, we haven’t seen anything like that.” The opposing Caravan Leader pointed the way they had come. “There was some noise in the hills nearby, but we didn’t stop to investigate. Maybe... Maybe that was the Dragon you’re looking for?”

“It could be!” The first disciple was now very excitable. “It could be... More of a lead than what we’ve had for days.”

“If I recall correctly there was a small hamlet nearby.” The second turned to the first. “Perhaps the Dragon is attacking them? There wouldn’t be many creatures around, not any large enough to feed a hungry Dragon that aren’t safely hibernating in a cave. That could be it…”

“So you’re going to help them?” Unina asked.

Ivano felt a pang of worry the moment she finished. Both of the disciples frowned, not out of anger but genuine curiosity and confusion.

“The hamlet.” Unina continued, frowning herself at the disciples' confusion. “If it’s being attacked by a Dragon then they’re going to need help. And fast.”

“Why do they matter?” The second disciple continued to frown. Again, he wasn’t angry, just confused.

“What-”

Ivano turned around and silently, and forcefully, told her to stop talking.

“Perhaps she’s concerned that there’s a chance the Dragon will have already finished and be moving onto other prey.” The first disciple’s frown turned to a smile. “Do not worry, slave. Dragons will toy and play with their food. Especially if they’re hungry. They’ll eat slowly so their stomachs are more easily satisfied, at least that’s what the stories say. And that must be why Jira didn’t give us a location. She meant for this to happen.”

Unina looked utterly baffled.

This is why you damned Blood Berserkers are so despised. Well, this is the lesser of the reasons. Never met one that isn’t arrogant, just like your Goddess supposedly is.

“Regardless, we must prepare immediately.” The first disciple bowed his head. “Thank you for your assistance! May your journey be safe and swift.”

Both disciples turned and left without a further word, returning to their distant temple at an even faster speed than before. No one spoke until the disciples were well and truly gone.

“Were we in trouble?” Hild softly asked. He slowly stood up, the other children tried to pull him down as they hadn’t been told everything was safe. “They didn’t seem-”

“Stay down.” Sibbe said harshly. Hild buckled and dropped down, keeping his head above the edge. “Please listen to your mother and father. When we say something like that, we mean it. Understand?"

"I… Okay. Sorry mum."

Hild was genuinely worried he’d done something wrong. In a sense he had, but he and Sibbe only did it to keep them safe. Ivano leapt from his cart, approached Hild who looked very worried, and gently stroked his hair, pulling the large snowflakes free.

“We just want to keep you safe. You know that, right?”

Hild nodded very seriously.

“Good. But in future ask more quietly if you’re going to do something like that. Nothing wrong with trying to keep an eye on your surroundings. You’ll be a great hunter one day if you learn to do that right.”

Hild looked very happy. Snakha pointed to his empty sling.

“When we reach safety for the night.” Ivano gave a slow nod. “We’ll teach you how to use a sling. That goes for each of you too.”

The other children tilted their heads in curiosity, first at Ivano then at Snakha.

“It’s time that you learned how to defend yourself.” Ivano nodded towards the distant disciples. “For all their strength, they’re not even wearing basic armour. Just a single hit to the head-”

“I wonder if that’s how they kill Mages in the Lowlands?” Snakha looked at Brenna for an answer, she gave a noncommittal shrug. “Seems like the quickest way to me.”

“Knowing them, it'll be something complicated." Brenna mused, tussling her brown hair. "Probably something to just stagger and disorientate the Mage rather than caving their skull in before they know what's happening. You know, the proper way of fighting."

“Wouldn’t that have come in handy in Qaiviel?" Ivano muttered.

He had not thought of the Knightly Orders for some time. Their thundering hooves and gleaming armour… Then there was that Mage. Armour was seemingly a foreign concept for him, with little more than a thick, rough Gambeson and a simple metal helmet.

Could have all been over with a slung stone to the face. Can't use magic if you're dead…

Then there was what he said after healing his wounds.

"Don't go south…"

"I have no intention of travelling towards Orc lands." The opposing caravan leader stated gruffly, folding his thin arms. "Too dangerous and not enough chance for profit.”

“Couldn’t head that way from here anyway.” Snakha murmured. “You’d have to go the way you came then south…”

Snakha realised the idea wasn’t serious. He chuckled to himself and folded his arms.

“Make sure you eat vegetables or roots.” Sibbe passed over a large bag of roots. “These will keep you healthy. You should see your skin start to heal in the next few days.”

“My thanks.” The caravan leader readily took the bag. “I wish you luck in your journey, if you decide to head that way. I’m not going to tell you not to come with us…”

Without waiting for Ivano to respond he whistled and waved his men forward. Shouts and grunts followed but the carts and beasts began to lumber forward. Ivano thought it wise to wait until they had passed before moving. As they began to move he gave the temple another look. Two figures were departing, heading parallel towards the mountain range. Why the Blood Berserkers weren’t using the road he didn’t understand. Surely the Gods wouldn’t have excluded the use of a road. Ivano wished he’d paid more attention to the stories the village elder always told.

—[]---

The journey through the mountains wasn’t particularly slow, far from it, but it was exhausting. Keeping an eye to the sky for a monstrous Dragon was the most draining. To not know when it could descend and devour their caravan was one of the worst feelings Ivano had recently felt. Even worse was the knowledge they couldn’t do anything to stop it. Other than leaving the slowest and weakest to lure the Dragon away. For perhaps a few moments at best.

Thankfully it wasn’t needed. The winding pass gave way to a rolling expanse of white. Endless white snowfields, and a smouldering village nestled behind a large stone crescent shaped outcropping, shielding it from the winds and snow. It had been attacked very recently, probably just after the other caravan came through. But not a single sign of a Dragon.

“No food I suppose.” Arvid clicked his tongue. The one armed Clansmen hefted his axe onto his shoulder. “Or chance of having some proper shelter. I suppose if we rest between the smouldering beams we’ll be kept warm. Right?”

Arlid shrugged, mimicking his brother when hefting his axe.

“We could still gather something valuable.” Gerin muttered, content to wait in the relative warmth of the cart. “We’ll need it to trade in the next village.”

“Provided there is one.” Arvid shrugged.

“A Bebbezzarian taking advantage of a Clansmen's poor plight?” Arlid feigned a gasp. “Who could believe such a thing?”

“Most of the gold there would be ours. Wouldn’t it? I doubt you’d mine gold yourself when you can just raid the Lowlands again and again.”

The twins laughed.

“It’s not theft if it’s already yours.” Arvid smiled. “I’ll remember that one.”

Ivano’s distraction was halted by Sibbe grabbing his hand.

“What’s the plan, dear?”

Ivano held a hand to his brow to block out the light. On the far side of the village was a large stone structure, seemingly untouched by the attack. It wasn’t a temple he recognised but it was certainly one. No light flickered from within but he would have extinguished all light if he’d witnessed a Dragon attack.

“That’s our best bet.” Ivano pointed to the solitary, untouched building. “Either shelter from the cold, or we’ll find someone that knows what’s happening.”

“Great.” Snakha softly sighed. “More mouths to feed-What?”

Brenna jabbed him in the side repeatedly. “That would apply to you too. Orcs are good hunters but poor farmers-”

“Can you honestly farm anything in this snow?” Snakha appeared genuine. “Apart from roots and tubers grown during the short summers?”

“What else can you grow in these lands that isn’t moss?”

The two shared a long stare. Ivano knew, or at least felt, it wasn’t serious. Something they would work out tonight but it wasn’t good for the cohesion of the caravan, which was already suffering from their brief encounter with the Blood Berserkers. Neither of which had been spotted again.

“Knock it off you two…” Ivano raised his hand. Everyone in the caravan quickly went silent. Everyone looked to the sky, and a faint distant rumbling. “I think that’s the damned Dragon. It’s coming back?”

“We won’t make it to that stone temple.” Erik murmured. He made sure Unina was hiding with the children before readying his axe. “Even if we run now.”

“We…” Ivano took a deep breath. “Keep an eye to the sky, and get ready to drop everything we can the moment anyone sees a Dragon.”

It was with some trepidation that the caravan continued to move forward. The dull rumbling slowly grew louder, the caravan continued to increase its speed. Despite the cold, sweat poured down Ivano’s face. After everything he’d been through, the failed Qaiviel invasion, another failed invasion of Bebbezzar, finally reuniting with his wife and children, the last way he expected to die was being eaten by a Dragon. Much to his utter shock and bewilderment they reached the town. Pools of blood littered the ground but no bodies were found, a few bloodied bits of treated fur and cloth but nothing more.

"Claw marks." Gavriel pointed to a ruined house. "Is that from a bear or…"

"A Dragon." Snakha grunted. "Unless that bear's bigger than that house."

If the house was stable he could have sent his children through the gaps to break in, not that he was such a person.

"No sign of the Dragon yet." Erik softly said. "But that rumble's getting closer."

If Ivano truly focused he would swear it was the sound of distant battle, two great warrior deities clashing in the heavens, but the Old Gods did not fight like that. Not anymore at least.

They passed through more buildings, all still with the only noise coming from loose and bloodied windows. Arlid and Arvid dared a peek but came back empty handed.

The closer they drew to the strange temple the less the devastation was apparent. The closest buildings were essentially untouched. Even some large fish were left out to be salted and cured.

Guess this Dragon wasn't that hungry.

"Any clue who this temple is for?" Unina asked. She pulled her cloak tighter as the wind began to whistle through them. "We didn't have any back at my village."

"Wouldn't have done you much good." Snakha rubbed his chin. "Don’t seem like the type to do all that much for you, even when you're crying out in pain. Not us Orcs at least."

Brenna jabbed his side. This time he appeared at least a little remorseful. Ivano focused his attention on the Temple door. Unremarkable in its decoration, but the fact it was made from steel was very odd. A few rust marks had appeared but otherwise it was unaffected by the weather.

"Should we head inside?" Sibbe asked. She pointed towards the mountain pass. "Those noises aren't getting any quieter."

"I just wish I knew who this Temple…"

Ivano stopped as the metal door groaned open, his hand reaching for his axe. Pale fingers slipped through, a pair of blue eyes peered out from the darkness.

"Who…" The voice belonged to a woman. "What the hell are you doing out there? Is the Dragon still around?”

“I think so.” Ivano looked back. The distant clashing was not so distant anymore. “Sounds like it’s fighting something.”

“Have you seen any Blood Berserkers?” Brenna asked, twirling her axe. “They should have beaten us here.”

“Them? Why would those bloody vampire bastards be here?” The woman grunted and shook her head. “Look, we’re not locals. We’re passing through when… Bring your bloody people around the back. And make it quick. I can hear the Dragon still fighting up there.”

The metal door slammed shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of the door being barred. Ivano felt the entire caravan’s eyes fall upon him. He’d never set out to do more than ensure a good life for his wife and children, and yet here he was.

“No point in staying here.”

The caravan needed no further encouragement. The carts rattled towards the far side of the temple, Ivano was quite surprised to see it extend further into the stony outcropping, forming a cavern to the side. To his surprise everyone fit inside the cavern quite comfortably.

A small wooden door opened, Ivano was surprised to see just who emerged. Six Silver Eagle Clansmen emerged, three men and women, wearing thick furs and hides but little in the way of armour.

“You’re a long way from home.” Snakha murmured as he helped an older man from the cart. “Only seen you silver people once before, but I’ve never heard anyone who didn’t know about you.”

Ivano repressed the need to sigh. Their silver hair, pale skin even for a Clansmen and blue eyes were very striking. What was more surprising was the proportions of the women. Put simply it must be agony to stand upright, yet none had any sign of pain or even minor discomfort.

I wonder what sort of blood they have.

Ivano whispered harshly to Arlid and Arvid to stop staring. They repeated the order but it took a moment to realise who it was originally directed at.

"Thank you for your help." Ivano began. "We didn't expect anyone to be alive, let alone provide shelter."

One of the Silver Eagle men shrugged. "We haven't done anything. Haven't even opened the door for you yet."

There's a lot more of us than of you.

The nearest woman nudged him but he paid it no mind.

"We were heading further south, near the Orc lands…" He stopped, a trembling hand reaching for a small blade. "Shit. It's coming back."

The rumbling was almost directly above them.

"You'd best come inside." He ushered them through the door. "I don't think it likes this Temple."

Ivano barely managed a step before the distant clashing suddenly sounded like it was right on top of them. The Silver Eagle Clansmen threw the door open and Ivano ushered everyone inside. He stood outside as something crashed into the nearest ruined building, throwing snow, ash and splinters of wood towards them. A piece of splintered wood hit his arm, then bounced onto his head. Pain blinded him but it was very brief. A mighty screech rang out as Ivano lowered his arm.

A Dragon emerged from the rubble, the great beast of fairy tales, a pair of blue scaled wings shredded and dripping with blood. Some still had splinters of wood from the crash but they could not have done most of the damage. Its head craned upwards and barred teeth larger than a horse.

No one spoke a word, all rooted in place in utter shock. The Blue Dragon flexed its front arms, thicker than the carts and built from pure muscle, and tried to fly. Ivano caught the flicker of despair in its small golden eyes. It knew it would never fly again.

“W-” Ivano’s body violently twitched. “Get inside. Everyone. Quick!”

The others were broken from their stupor and followed. Snakha, Arlid and Arvid remained with him. Brenna tried to bring the Orc with her but he refused with a quick kiss before pushing her inside.

“Are we going to try and fight that?” Snakha asked. He glanced back, one of the Silver Eagle’s held the door ajar, though was ready to slam it shut with them outside. “I know you’re good, Ivano, but I don’t really want to die.”

“What a story it would be.” Arlid smiled. “But maybe-”

The Blue Dragon howled. Ivano winced from the pain, trying to block out the noise without dropping his weapon. The noise suddenly stopped. When he could see properly a two small shards of red emerged from its mouth. The Blue Dragon shuddered and its body slumped forward while its head remained upright, resting on the two shards of red. A final bloodied breath passed into the chilled air, and it was dead.

“The hell…” Arvid clicked his tongue.

“Those two.” Ivano murmured. “Those bloody Blood Berserkers…” He gripped his axe tight in worry. “Where are those two?”

“Excellent work, brother!” A familiar voice called out. One of the heavily scared Blood Berserkers emerged from behind a ruined house some distance away. This time his eyes glowed a bright red, with wisps of red light trailing off and dissipating into the wind. “We did it!”

“That we did.” The brother emerged from a different house some distance away. “Those traders were the perfect bait… Oh, they survived.”

The second pointed towards them and waved. His scared, gnarled hand caught the light in strange ways. His eyes were brighter than his companion, but Ivano could not see the red glowing tattoos on either. Probably hidden on their back, but it did not explain the scars.

Ivano bounced his axe back and forth. He wanted to say something, but remembering the few times he’d met a Blood Berserker in battle stayed his tongue. Words were cheap, easy, and it was far safer than fighting one of these freaks. And with those glowing eyes he knew it was little more than a thought for them to throw their hardened blood straight through his face. Terrifying opponents, but at least these were still sane. Somewhat sane.

Ivano returned the wave, still unsure what he would say, when the Silver Eagle stepped into his periphery.

“Why are they celebrating killing that?" He asked.

Ivano did not have an interest in men, but the man standing beside him was almost unnaturally beautiful. Especially compared to his usual companions.

"You could do better?" Arlid almost laughed. "It's a fucking Dragon. Are you honestly going to say that you, with your pretty silver locks and those women with those back breaking tits, could kill one of them without magic?"

The man nodded, ignoring Arlid's personal comments. "We're this far south to collect egg shells and their scales. All extremely valuable, could feed our tribe for many seasons just from one expedition."

"I'm sure those two would let you take whatever you needed." Ivano placed his axe back on his hip.

"Baby Dragons have soft scales and claws. According to one of our elders it’s because they haven’t eaten enough iron, but it does help them when they’re learning to fly. I've seen them crash into mountains while fighting for a mate, and they just flew away."

"Baby? You call that a baby? Well, baby or not it fell out of the sky and then…" Ivano’s body turned cold, colder than his imprisonment after returning from Qaiviel. "It fought its mother. And it was calling for help."

The two Blood Berserkers had approached the dead Blue Dragon and marvelled at their handiwork. Yet another terrible sound screamed from overhead. The Blood Berserkers outstretched their hands, tiny flecks of light emanated through tears on the back of their shirts, and the blood impaling the Blue Dragon liquefied. It slumped onto the ruined building as the blood coiled around the twin Blood Berserkers. Their attention was fixed towards the sky.

"Get inside." Ivano pushed Snakha towards the door. "We don't want to be a part of this."

Everyone obeyed. The Temple's interior was very crowded, beyond the huddling masses of their convoy and the Silver Eagles. Long chairs filled the room, now laden with the elderly and children, all facing towards a large jade statue of some kind of Chimera roaring in anger.

What madman would worship one of those things? I’d rather worship a Dragon, at least it might not kill you on sight.

Ivano found Sibbe and his children, quickly kissed his wife and slipped from her worried hands. Two Silver Eagles crowded near the door jostling for space. A thick wooden beam barred the door but Ivano doubted it would last against an adult Dragon. He reached the door and saw several small peepholes had been fashioned into the door.

Outside the Blood Berserker twins threw thin, long shards into the sky. One screamed in unimaginable fear. Ivano blinked and the two had disappeared, little more than a smear beneath a giant Blue Dragon’s hand. It was larger than the dead Blue Dragon, which Ivano now knew was actually a baby. The larger Blue Dragon snarled at the stains and rotated a massive shoulder and flexed its massive wings. Two deep cuts had pierced through its scales on its shoulder, the final attack of the Blood Berserkers, but it had done little more than annoy it.

All that arrogance and power, and for what? Just a smear on a Dragon’s foot. I wonder if your Goddess even cares given how easy it was to kill you.

Anger quickly gave way to sadness. Slowly it approached the dead Blue Dragon, whimpering and nudging it with its snout. Small tears ran down its face before mixing with the wet snow.

“Tragic,” A Silver Eagle spoke very softly. “A spat between a family… Wouldn’t have survived long without its wings.”

“But how did Jira know this was going to happen?” Neither had an answer to Ivano’s question.

The larger Blue Dragon pulled itself closer to the dead baby, raising a hand and gently caressing its head.

“Now what?” Erik asked. Unina was with Sibbe and his children. “We just… Wait?”

“You want to head out there?” Ivano managed a soft chuckle. “I can only thank the Gods that it’s not after the horses. Hopefully mourning doesn’t make it hungry.”

“And this Temple won't stop it." Erik’s attention returned to the jade idol. “What the hell is this place anyway?”

“I know what you’re looking at.” Arlid chuckled. “You’re thinking about just how much money you can make by selling all that jade, buy your lovely Seocurian girlfriend a big Lowlander ring. Right?”

Erik and Unina stammered, his flushed face was much easier to see compared to her dark skin. Arlid chuckled and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t be like that. But it’s quite a pretty thing, isn't it?"

Erik folded his arms. "When there's a Dragon out there you're more worried about something to steal?"

"If that Dragon breaks down that door there's nothing we can do. But, while we wait for our imminent demise, let's have a look, shall we?"

Ivano sighed as Arlid reached for the idol. "Keep your damned-”

“Don’t touch that!” A voice shrilled from behind the idol.

Immediately everyone drew their weapons, brandishing them towards the idol and forgetting the Blue Dragon outside.

“It’s not yours to take.”

A side panel dropped loudly. Ivano winced, checked through the peephole to see the adult Blue Dragon still mourning its dead baby. He breathed a little easier, the macabre reason not lost upon him, and signalled his warriors forward. Arlid kicked the panel away and motioned for other warriors to go first, only having one arm of course. Ivano glanced at Sibbe, she had the children on the long chairs while Unina and Brenna were ready, a small dagger and large axe respectively.

The warriors dragged out a dozen Clansmen, a few men and women but mostly children, all wrapped in thick cloaks and shivering.

“How long have you lot been in there?” Arlid asked.

None responded. The adults kept their heads down while the children stared at them blankly. An odd sort of blank. Ivano wasn’t comfortable having them anywhere near his children.

“Hey.” Snakha lightly kicked one, light being relative for an Orc. “You got asked a question.”

Again the adults refused to respond. Snakha grunted and pulled one of their heads back. The man was remarkably plain, his eyes focused, staring back at Snakha. When he released his hold the man returned to his dismissive, unnaturally passive attitude.

“What the hell? So which one of you lot said anything about the idol thing?”

Still no answer.

“Fine. Ivano? Guess we can take it then, right?”

“No!” One of the older children yelled. His eyes were still blank but he moved like he was very angry, arms flailing while his legs trembled. “You can’t take it.”

“Tell it to the Dragon.” Snakha shoved the boy back harshly. He landed on his rear, a hair's breadth from cracking his skull on the stone floor.

Ivano cleared his throat and signalled for them to stop. Arlid and Arvid grumbled. They were but a moment away from lifting the jade idol. Ivano stopped near the young boy and offered a hand. The boy did not take it but appeared to appreciate the gesture.

“You’re freezing. How long have you been in there?”

“A long time.” The boy let out a long withheld sigh. “Wind blows inside the cavern. Snow and…”

He trailed off, the answer obvious.

“Do you know why the Blue Dragon attacked your village? I’ve never heard of them attacking cities…” Ivano sought assurances from the Silver Eagles. When they agreed he spoke a little easier. “So why did they attack?”

The boy’s fingers tapped his thighs. He wanted to answer but something held him back. Not the adults, who remained rooted in place with their eyes cast down in perfect silence.

“A Dragon murdered your friends and their families. Surely you must know something.”

He sighed and glanced at the jade Chimera idol. From his seated position the shadows cast made it more frightening than ever.

“Anything, kid. There’s got to be something.”

“Never even seen a Dragon before.” Erik muttered. “My father hadn’t either, and he’d travelled very far…”

The young boy still held back. Ivano knew he could use force, an unpleasant but possible action. Instead he tried to look as concerned as his face possibly could. It was something he learned from Sibbe when she needed to placate their children.

He gave one final glance to the stationary adults, gripped his hands into fists and tensed his shoulders.

“They… We were trying to bring back our protector.”

Ivano brushed his hand against the top of his axe. “What sort of protector?”

He was not surprised when he pointed at the jade Chimera idol.

“They said it would protect us. But… But it didn’t work. And the Blue Dragon attacked us.” The young boy’s shoulder drooped. “It burnt our homes, and ate my friends.”

The baby or the adult?

Tears welled in his eyes and he began to softly sob. Ivano was angry that the adults didn’t seem to care. Snakha silently offered his axe, Ivano didn’t want those dead just yet.

“How’s our Dragon doing?”

“Still holding its baby.” The Silver Eagle said. “Doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere fast.”

“Well,” Ivano looked at the Chimera idol. “Any reason why your adult friends don’t want to talk? They would be able to tell us more.”

The young boy reached underneath his shirt and produced an amulet. It was a curious thing, made from ragged pieces of bone and teeth, haphazardly thrown together. The sinew holding it together was old and reeked of rot but had yet to disintegrate. It wasn’t really an amulet. More of a fetish he expected old witches to deliver curses with.

“They,” The young boy nodded towards the adults. “Started to scream when it attacked. Then they fell down and haven’t said anything since. They followed us when we pushed them here to hide…”

“Kid.” Snakha stopped just beside the young boy. “You should really, really get rid of that thing.”

“Why?” He brought it close to his chest. “My father gave it to me. And, and it’s all I have left of him.”

Snakha snarled and ripped the amulet free. The young boy shouted, Snakha pushed him back with a mighty shove and stomped on the amulet until it was nothing but dust and grit.

“What the fuck was that?” Brenna harshly shoved the Orc. “What the fuck… Shit.”

She swore at the unmoving adults and inspected the young boy. Blood leaked from the back of his head but he was still alive. The other children rushed to his side, unsure of what was happening.

Snakha spat on the remains of the amulet. “Made my skin crawl just looking at it.”

“No reason to almost kill a kid.”

“I’ve killed for less.” Snakha spat again. “Let’s see if these rabbit dropping adults have any more of them.”

Before Ivano could react Snakha already had one held up by their chest. They tried to pry his fingers free but couldn’t. Snakha found another amulet and ripped it free.

“Give that back.” The adult whimpered as Snakha dropped him to the floor. “We need it. There wasn’t enough meat to lure the adult Dragon so-”

Snakha punched his nose hard, hard enough to break it.

“You wanted…” Ivano shook his head. “You tried to lure the Adult Blue Dragon, which I’m sure you had a plan to deal with? Right? But instead you got the baby. A baby and its mother. That’s what we were hearing. The two fighting, probably trying to drag its child away but it was still being lured here. Then those two dumb Jira fuckwits attacked it and made everything a hundred times worse.”

“Jira?” The man asked through the blood pouring down his face.

Snakha snarled and he backed away.

“And those amulets are a part of it.” Snakha readied his axe. “Right? Don’t you lie to me. I’m an Orc, a dumb one, but I can tell when you’re lying to me.”

“The amulets can interfere with the natural flow of mana and draw something extremely sensitive to it.” The man raised his hands.

“Still want to know how you planned to kill the adult.” Ivano murmured.

“Well, give them up at least.” Snakha waved some of the caravan’s warriors forward. “Won’t be doing any of that without them.”

Ivano sighed as they roughly searched the adults. The children protested but Brenna and the two Silver Eagle women were able to placate them. Ivano returned to the door and looked out. The adult Blue Dragon had yet to move, other than trying to nuzzle its dead baby through copious amounts of tears. It was a sad scene Ivano knew he wouldn’t easily forget.

Snakha triumphantly smiled as he threw the strange amulets onto the floor and smashed them with one mighty blow. The Blue Dragon snapped its head towards the temple door. Ivano felt his blood turn cold once again. Only a strangled cry escaped his lips, everyone knew what it meant and remained silent. The Dragon’s eyes had constricted to tiny pinpricks, lips curled back in anger, yet it did not move. Everyone inside remained perfectly still, every child's mouth held shut by a myriad of arms. The adults glared with tremendous fury at Snakha but refused to move or speak.

A great plume of hot breath erupted from its nose, the Dragon beat its gigantic wings and shot into the air, leaving the dead baby Dragon amongst the ruins of the house. The small peep-hole didn't allow him to look up. He could only hope it was gone.

"Are we safe?" Sibbe whispered. “Is it gone?”

"I… I think so.” A shudder ran through Ivano’s body. He saw the other warriors look even more relieved. “Its baby is dead, but it killed those Blood Berserker twits and we just destroyed whatever drew its kid here, so it shouldn’t be coming back. That might make your little salvage job a little harder."

The Silver Eagles smiled bitterly but did not disagree.

"So…" Snakha rubbed his oversized jaw. "What do we do about them? They created this whole mess."

“I honestly have no fucking idea.” Ivano brushed away the snow from his beard. “Leave them? These idiots just got their whole village killed. So I don’t think they need much more punishment. Unless you’re going to cave their skulls in with that axe.”

“It’s a thought.”

Going to be an interesting conversation later about this.

Brenna clearly had the same thought.

“Well, your Chimera didn’t save you from a BabyDragon. I don’t even want to know what your plan was.” Ivano’s eyes narrowed, the adults still refused to look at them with anything other than the most vacant of expressions. “Do whatever you want. But we’re heading to Rangarvellir. These Silver Eagles are still heading south, so you could try that if you want.

“We can’t just leave the children.” Sibbe rose to her feet, his children in tow. “We just leave them here with them? I don’t think they can even feed themselves like they are.”

“Looks like some stupid act.” Arvid snorted. “Bad play, really.”

“Up to you, kids.” Ivano shrugged and sighed. “It’s your future.”

The children huddled and whispered amongst themselves. Snakha continued to spin his axe in his hand.

“We're going to stay." The second eldest said, the first still lay on the floor, groaning and rubbing his face but alive. "We have food in the cellars that the Dragon didn't touch."

"So you'll be fine until someone else comes through here."

"We can let the next village know what happened." A Silver Eagle woman said, gently stroking the hair of the youngest child. "They'll take you in, I'm sure."

The children seemed quite happier to be told that by the most motherly amongst them.

“So that settles it then.” Ivano dusted his hands. “Stay here, with these… People. And we’ll send you help as quickly as we can.”

Sibbe did not look altogether thrilled, but was willing to go along with it all. For now at least. Ivano signalled for the door to be opened and the caravan’s contents spilled into the fresh cold. Outside, their horses alive and well. In fact they seemed quite happy, to be under shelter and not dragging their ponderous carts. It was almost like they didn't even know they were but a few breaths from being Dragon lunch. Even against the grey sky he could not see the blue speck that would herald their doom.

“Probably wouldn’t even notice it before it slammed into us." He murmured.

Snakha laughed. "No. But what a way to go, right? Instead of dying in Qaiviel to that Orc runt we can say it was a Dragon." He scoffed, pointing at what remained of the Blood Berserkers. "What little good it did for them."

"There's smoke." Sibbe spoke softly. "A lot of smoke… By the Old Gods, that's where the other caravan was heading."

A thin line of smoke rose over the mountain further south than the pass.

"Looks like it's their Temple. Guess the Dragon's smart enough to know who sent them. That's horrifying."

“Probably think it’s one of those lot.” Snakha jerked his head backwards. “Something lured its kid…”

The Orc trailed off, shaking his head. Ivano reminded himself again to inquire later.

The first of the Silver Eagles emerged. Their eyes were drawn to the dead baby Blue Dragon.

"At least let us leave before ripping that thing apart." Ivano folded his arms. “No idea just how far away its mother is.”

“And you’re just going to leave the kids there?” Sibbe asked, his children in tow.

“They’ve got food, shelter and no one’s going to be attacking this ruined village anytime soon. They’re actually quite safe.”

“Speaking of…” Snakha snapped his large fingers. “Arlid? Arvid? You two wanna’ come with me? Got something to get before we go.”

“Not their damned idol.” Sibbe sighed, planting a hand on her hip and shaking her head.

“Exactly. Come on you two.” Snakha smiled as he returned. Ivano saw the Orc’s hand hover over the top of a dagger.

Ivano mentally sighed. He couldn’t, rather he wouldn’t, order them to be killed in front of so many. But if something were to happen that would just be terrible luck. He already ordered the death of an innocent woman and her son, their bodies to be thrown into a lake and their gold given to the perpetrators, not to mention those he’d killed on every raid of the Lowlands. What were a few more to the list? His suspicions were confirmed when the door was shut.

“Ivano?” Sibbe held his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Apart from seeing a Dragon, and watching one die? I guess it’s rattled me a little.” Ivano brought Sibbe in for a tight hug. “I’ve never travelled so long with you and the kids. So I’ve got to learn to behave myself.”

Sibbe’s expression softened.

"You don't need to go back to Arnkel." She harshly poked his chest, a message that he was to remain silent. "I've spoken with Brenna and Unina. And the women don't mind just leaving all this behind. Brenna knows of a valley with some good soil that doesn't freeze during winter. I know Snakha will follow her, and Erik, Unina. So there's nothing stopping us. Except…"

Ivano brought her in for a tight hug. When they parted she wore a distinctive frown, one she wore when she knew she wasn't going to like his answer.

"Except that we will probably get away with it. The Lowlands aren’t united, but they’re slowly putting together defences and ways to attack us.” He nodded towards Gavriel. “Even a border fort chased us for days, and they nearly caught us. But our kids? And their children? We need to make sure they have a future that isn’t under the Lowlander’s boot."

"But it doesn't have to be just you-"

"That's why I listened to Arnkel. He has a better path and now the support of the most important Clans."

Sibbe almost raised an objection but Ivano stopped her.

"But if it doesn't work out I'll say goodbye to it all and we'll head to this valley of yours. Maybe farming will be a good change for us. Dirt, instead of blood, underneath my fingernails. What a thought."

Sibbe smiled, an honest smile, one that faded as she pointed towards the Temple. Another line of smoke emerged, more to the north and smaller. This time where the caravan was travelling. Another two were beginning to form, from what he did not know.

The door to the Temple opened, Arlid and Arvid emerged first, grinning wildly as they held the jade idol between them.

“Yeah, we took it.” Arlid chuckled. “But now we’ll have more than enough money to keep everyone here fed. And properly armed.”

He smiled at Sibbe and Brenna, helping the children into the cart. “That’s what you ladies want, right? None of us need to die so they can have this thing.”

“Not like they need it.” Arvid said. “They tried to summon a dragon to create this thing.”

Ivano saw Gavriel poke his head up. The Bebbezzarian merchant could smell potential trade and profit from a mile away. At the very least it was something different than the warriors he usually surrounded himself.

“What sort of things?” Unina asked, tapping Erik’s side. “Could we get something prettier for our cloaks?”

Arlid and Arvid began to explain the different types of clothing for sale in Rangarvellir. She was hooked on the idea, and with her everyone else followed. Snakha emerged from the temple. Ivano glanced at him through his peripheries; he was clean but spatters of blood covered his axe. He wiped it clean before anyone could notice and stood beside Ivano without a word.

Please don’t be stupid enough to ask while Sibbe is right here.

Snakha was not that foolish. He helped Sibbe into the cart and organised their caravan to get moving once again. Only once the rattling of the carts was surrounding them, and Ivano had moved back to the supply cart, did he speak.

“They aren’t going to be an issue.” Snakha spoke uncharacteristically softly.

“Any?” Ivano asked without looking at the Orc.

“Not one. You heard what they wanted to do. No. It was easier and quicker this way.”

“Not a word of this to anyone.” Ivano sighed. “The twins can keep their mouths shut?”

“They’ll be fine. They were more eager than me when they figured they could make a lot of money from that jade. And they’ve only got one arm each.”

“Right… Not a word to anyone.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Snakha gave him a hearty slap on his back and raced to catch up to the cart. Ivano wondered if he really wanted to know why the Orc was so offended by their work, not that he wasn’t either. Perhaps it was best not to know. Snakha didn’t come across as someone that had an easy upbringing.

Another sigh passed through his lips as he reached the cart and looked towards the thin plume of smoke rising from Jira’s Temple. Only there was yet another, further away.

“Poor bastards don’t have to worry about their veggies now, do they?”

He touched his axe, almost smiling at the ridiculousness of what he was preparing for, and settled in for the long ride to Rangarvellir, wondering just why Clansmen would want to resurrect a Chimera. The answer eluded him well into sleep.

Volume 05 - Chapter 60.2 - (Interlude) - Ivano returns to Ragnarvellir

Ivano breathed deep and opened the doors to the central Longhouse of Rangarvellir. He did not know why he expected any of it to have changed but it was the same as when he left it. Rather, when he had been dragged here, half delirious from cold and hunger. He felt none of that now, but his body still remembered.

"I expected it to be bigger." Snakha murmured. "The way you Clansmen go on and on about this place you'd think it would put the Lowlander castles to shame."

Snakha had not spoken of what he had transpired in the Temple. Neither had the twins, standing behind them and clearly more interested in selling the jade Chimera idol than what Ivano had to do. For that he was glad. Harsh measures had to be taken, and Sibbe would disapprove.

"Back here again." Ivano stepped forward, a gust of snow laden wind whistled past them. "Erik?"

The young Clansmen stood just outside the door. He looked anxious, anxious to tell his family of his father's death and of Unina, who’s doting had only become more obvious and heartfelt. They barely left one another’s side, yet his family might have trouble with their relationship. Especially if they took the stupid route and felt they had replaced his father with a Seocurian girl.

"Make sure they don’t go too far. And definitely make sure that no one finds out about the jade idol. And Gavriel too. He’s a Bebbezzarian in Rangarvellir, so…”

“There’s also that Unina girl.” Arlid said. “She's certainly not from here.”

“I’ll make sure they stay safe.” Erik gave a tiny nod before returning to the snow outside.

Ivano took another shallow breath as he looked at the smouldering fire pit at the centre of the room. Though only embers now, it had once been a roaring flame. The simple seats surrounding it were abandoned but he could see where he had been fastened before the Great Clan leaders, bound in chains. More scuff marks adorned the stone next to the metal hoop. He wondered how many had been brought before Arnkel since he left.

“No one’s said much about an Orc being here.” Snakha almost smiled. “Looks like they think that the rest of my people are actually worth the food they eat.” He spun his empty sling. “Not me though. I know I’m useless.”

The reason why Snakha had not returned to the Orc lands, beyond his relationship with Brenna, were still a mystery. Ivano had not inquired further and he doubted he would get the real answer anyway. And he had no desire to inquire. That and he was quite a good warrior too and a decent person, or Orc, to have on their side. His sheer size certainly helped. He didn’t want to lose Brenna either.

A shadow of movement at the very edge of the room caught his eye. It looked like a fur coat, thrown into the corner, but it was alive. A Beast-kin slave. A Wolf, the same one that had offered Ivano a stool rather than sitting on the cold stone. There were more beside the Wolf. A few less than when he left. They had the same hollow and empty look in their eyes, when they dared to look anywhere but the floor.

“Glad to see you’re alive at least.” Ivano muttered. He was certain he saw the Wolf’s ear twitch but he didn’t want to get him in any sort of trouble.

"So where's Arnkel?" Ivano said loudly. "I expected that he would be eager to see me."

The Wolf Beast-kin almost took a step forward but pulled back. A door opened on the opposite side, his head twitched up and his ears drew back in fear. All of the Beast-kin did.

Three Clansmen stepped through the side door, all belonging to the Blood Axe clan. Ivano’s former Clan, not that it really ever meant that much to him. Especially compared to Sibbe and his children.

"Ivano, Chieftain of the Fire Blade Clan." The large bearded warrior proudly proclaimed, though there was something mocking about his toothless smile. "Welcome back to Rangarvellir. Better than the last time you were here, right? Actually a warrior worth his weight now."

"It's good to be back.” Ivano ignored the warrior’s worded barbs. “Is Arnkel here? I've come a very long way to speak with him."

"Out back, by the obelisk." The warrior did not move to usher him out. "He's been out there since he heard you were coming back here."

Back here. Where I belong… At least I used to.

The Warrior did not move, with only the crackling of the tiny embers to fill the air.

“So… Shall we go?” Ivano sighed.

The Warrior folded his arms, trying to stare him down. Ivano took a step forward, the three Warriors moved to block his way. He tried the other side but they closed as well. Snakha rested his hand on his axe, Ivano signalled for him to wait.

So we’re doing this then? I wonder if this is Arnkel’s doing?

Though the three weren’t taller than Ivano he had been travelling for some time and the food was more sparse than he liked. And, most importantly, he did not have the mental strength to deal with this. Not the pushing through, nor stepping around them and walking the entire width of the Longhouse. Behind the Twins and Snakha were glaring at the obvious and sad attempt at intimidation.

Better thank Gavriel for teaching me where to hide coins. Forgot I even had them.

“It has been quite a long journey,” Ivano rummaged through his thick furs. “And I’m sure that you three haven’t had much opportunity to have some fun, nor raid the Lowlands with us.”

“So how about these?” He produced three gold coins. Coins from Bebbezzar, payment from a drunken Gavriel for saving him from a shouting match with some Clansmen, but gold nevertheless. “One for each of you. Just to… Smooth things over.”

The three Warriors seriously considered the offer.

“Make sure you don’t spend them all at once, okay?”

Ivano tossed a coin at the Warriors to the left and the right. They caught it with near reverence, gripping the coin tight in their hands. The last Warrior’s eyes widened as the coin floated high in the air. With his arms outstretched upwards, Ivano balled his hand into a fist and struck with all his might. His fist connected with the right of his jaw, throwing spittle, blood and a tooth onto the leftmost Warrior. Ivano followed up with a heavy kick to the groin and threw him back with all his might. The other two Warriors barely could react before they were set upon by those behind him. Arlid and Arvid charged and shoved the Warrior back, landing onto the stone floor with a worrying crack, the other crumpled after Snakha punched him straight in the chest.

“W-What did you do?” The Wolf Beast-kin asked, his voice was extremely soft and gentle. “You just struck Arnkel’s Warriors?!”

“I'm too old to be dealing with this shit.” Ivano shook his hand. The man’s skull was very thick. “And they're old enough to know better. If they don't it just means they've learnt something very important. This is normal during raids. Enforcing discipline. Always someone trying to be a stupid idiot.”

Snakha spat on the whimpering Warrior he had struck. “I’ve killed for less.”

“They won’t be getting up anytime soon. But make sure they don’t move.” Ivano walked towards the door leading outside. “Moving after being hit like that isn’t a good idea."

Sibbe said not to trust him, and they were clearly being more stupid than necessary. Or believable…

The tiniest thought of how Sibbe had been threatened on their journey to him while under Arnkel’s protection made his blood boil and the thought of using his axe was very comforting. The next breath and it was gone.

Ivano walked outside and walked up the snow covered steps towards the obelisk, Snakha, Arlid and Arvid right behind. It was a simple black, stone pillar. A memento of the United Empire. To glorify some ancient battle or act, not that it really mattered anymore. Beside it stood a large man, larger than Ivano, staring not at the pillar but overlooking the expanse beyond Rangarvellir. Such as an unimpeded view of a large convoy approaching the city.

"Lovely view." Ivano said as he neared. "The snow hasn't really changed much since I left."

Arnkel, Ivano’s former Chieftain, smiled through his thick brown beard. He gently swung his arms, stepped back from the Obelisk and brushed away the snow building on his head.

“It has. Not the way you came in, of course.” Arnkel waved him closer. “Another ten families have left the farms. Took all their tools, equipment and knowledge and left.”

“Which way?”

“Towards Qaiviel, I believe. Not below the snows, but closer. Where it’s warmer.”

Arnkel frowned when he saw Snakha, not even noticing or caring about Arlid and Arvid.

“Didn't think the Orcs would be very friendly with you after what happened down there."

Ivano wanted to rebuke him but he'd had little contact with the Orcs at the best of times. Snakha was the exception, but only because he wanted him to witness him killing another Orc for an axe. And finding it humorous. At least in the beginning.

"I didn't send an Orc, nor two one armed Warriors."

"They're still inside." Ivano flexed his hand. "They could be a while."

Arnkel sighed. “I trust that they’re not dead? We don’t exactly have too many men to spare.”

“They… They’ll recover.”

Arnkel sighed again. Ivano was still not sure if it was a deliberate act on his part. Arnkel had unsubtly threatened his wife and children, probably necessary for him to actually kill Mord.

Arnkel clapped his hands. “Oh well. They’re just incredibly stupid to be trying to threaten another Clansman, a Chieftain at that, and expecting not to get their head clobbered. I heard that my son is doing well.”

Ivano was not surprised at the sudden shift in conversation.

“He is. The Wind WalkersClan will no longer try and raid the Lowlands, so long as we can get this whole peaceful trade thing working."

"Peace…" Arnkel slowly nodded. "I don't think that's a word that's meant anything in our lands for a very, very long time. We'd rather run away and try again than admit true defeat."

Arnkel looked behind Ivano. "I imagine that it's the last thing you three would expect to hear from me."

“Peace isn’t so bad.” Arlid said, his brother readily agreeing. “Nothing like travelling the world, eating and drinking without having to worry about having to kill everyone you meet. And it’s not like every bandit and raider is just going to stop because you Chieftains said we’re going to play peacefully.”

Snakha shrugged. “So long as it doesn’t become boring. Besides, there’s always going to be Beasts and Monsters to fight.” Snakha smirked. “Even if those Monsters are pink and stand on two legs.”

Arnkel silently looked at them, finally cracking a smile. “Seems you found some odd people during your travels. But…” He sighed. “My three idiots, that couldn’t even follow a basic instruction.”

Arnkel flexed his hand. “But I suppose that I'm just as strange, setting this all into motion."

If only you hadn't dragged Sibbe and my kids along for the ride.

"Enough of standing out here in the cold." Arnkel motioned towards the rear of the Longhouse, to a small recently built extension. "Since you're here we should plan the next steps."

Arnkel stopped after a single pace. "Not that I can actually force you to follow me. You are a Chieftain in your own right, you know?"

"Never my intention. I just wanted a good life for my children."

Arnkel nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. But don't forget… Well, I've already said it, haven't I?"

Ivano noted that he didn't have anything good to say about Borstig, not even a passing empty platitude. Borstig was a little strange but a good kid. Certainly didn't fit with what a Clansman was supposed to be.

A wave of warm air washed over Ivano’s chilled exterior. Inside lay a crackling fire, next to it sat a heavy breasted woman nursing two suckling children beside a large cluttered table. She barely lifted her eyes from beneath long brown locks but faintly smiled when she saw Arnkel.

“They’ve just stopped screaming.” The woman sighed, bouncing both babies. “Getting a full belly certainly stopped them… Who are they?”

The woman did not seem to care that she was mostly exposed, especially when one of the babies stopped their suckling.

“Friends? You have friends to show me?”

Arnkel almost rolled his eyes. “Ivano, meet Joerid. My first wife.”

Joerid gave a curt nod and began to dress herself. “I take it that you boys are about to discuss something important, and don’t want two mewling children ringing in your ears.”

“I’ve had to deal with far worse.” Ivano said.

Joerid smiled. “I’m sure your wife doesn’t think the same. You men, always so eager to put children in us and run off towards the next adventure, leaving us to raise the next generation.” She sighed, swaddling the children and ensuring her top was properly fastened. “Is she with the rest of your caravan? It’s not often the wife of a Chieftain gets to speak with another.”

“Sibbe probably wouldn’t mind having a talk. Not many mothers travelling with us.”

“I’ve given birth to over eight children. I might actually have a few things to teach her, especially if you’re planning to have any more.”

Joerid stopped at Ivano’s side. “Thank you for giving Borstig a chance. I know he isn’t the easiest child to work with… But so long as he’s happy and doing well.”

Ivano smiled, knowing exactly how he was being treated. “He’s doing great. I’ll be sure to tell him to write you a letter the moment he can.”

Joerid’s shoulders relaxed, her smile widened before she walked outside, sparing Snakha a quick glance.

“She’s not normally this well behaved.” Arnkel shook his head. “Trying to look good for others…” His hand drifted towards an empty bottle on the table corner. “Didn’t finish the bottle, that’s surprising…”

Ivano had seen what happened to the children of mothers who drank during their pregnancies. They weren’t right, in more ways than one. More than not they would simply disappear in the night. The only night when the wolves wouldn’t howl.

“So what’s the plan?”

Arnkel waved them closer to the table. On it lay an old map of the Shattered Kingdoms, judging by the lines it was made very soon after the collapse of the United Empire.

“We’re here, in the centre. Surrounded by everyone.” Arnkel waved his hands in a way that told him he’d practised this many times in his head. “And hated by them. If we’re going to make a better life for our people we need their land-”

Ivano slammed his hand on the table, Arlid and Arvid readied to draw their blades. “If this is all some ridiculous ploy to gather everyone for one last raid-”

“No.” Arnkel said firmly. He had not moved for any of his weapons. “No. Thatwould have been my father. And Mord. But not me. With everyone united we won’t be attacking the Lowlands ever again. But it will take considerable time and effort for the Lowlands to even begin trusting us, let alone forgive us for generations of war and depredations.”

“Right…”

“So we need something to simultaneously distract the more aggressive Clansmen, something other than trade, while we shift towards a more peaceful existence. And that’s not going to be easy or quick.” Arnkel cleared his throat. “So here’s my plan.”

Arnkel pointed to a land below the Deweth Clansmen territory. A territory that made Ivano’s blood run colder than the snow ever could.

“Qaiviel, Bebbezzar, Seocuria and Graterious are full of people that hate us, and I’m sure that the Seocurian Beast-kin would hate us too. But this land, the dead Kar Kingdom. That entire land is open. Why Qaiviel and Graterious haven’t taken it, I don’t know. Do you think there’s a reason they haven’t?”

Arnkel stroked his beard, waiting for a response that Ivano knew wasn’t coming. His mind was clouded with memories of Qaiviel, of Fire and Lightning raining down upon them as they ran through narrow city streets. Of the thundering hooves of armoured knights riding hard on cobblestone. Huddling in a mansion and being blinded by magic. Then, after being healed by the plain looking Mage he had been given a warning.

“Ivano?” Arnkel frowned, leaning forward. He gave the other three a slightly worried look before lightly tapping Ivano’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Do you need to sit for a moment? You have had a long journey.”

He motioned to where Joerid had been sitting.

“I.” Ivano blinked, forcibly brining himself back to the present. “I just… Where would be going?”

Arnkel frowned but returned his attention to the map. “Well, I suspect that Qaiviel hasn’t retaken the land because they can’t get their vaunted Knights safely through the forest. Monsters and Beasts infest it. You weren’t attacked due to the size of your force.”

“Just other things.” Ivano mused.

“Indeed… But as Qaiviel is quite similar to us, structurally. I suspect that it wouldn’t be the entire Kingdom, rather wealthier nobles funding small expeditions that were destroyed. So they gave up. As for Graterious, I have no idea.”

Probably the same reason, just on a much larger scale.

“So I was thinking here.” Arnkel pointed to Mount Aspire, a solitary mountain just beyond the border. “Close to Qaiviel, our Orc allies and where you briefly entered their lands. Tell me, and I don’t believe anyone asked during your imprisonment, how were they?”

Ivano blinked. “Open and green. We saw grasslands as far as the eye could see. Except for that forest and the mountain.”

“Well, that’s going to be where we will begin our new settlements.” Arnkel folded his arms, wearing a proud expression. “Where we can farm without having to scrounge on the side of a presumably dead volcano, or digging for roots and tubers in summer, which is a mild winter for the Lowlanders. I’d like for you to bring some of your Fire Blades and settle there, along with my own Clansmen… What’s wrong?”

The worry must have been clear as day on Ivano’s face, as Arnkel was not a fool. He was the one who mentored Ivano after all.

"We should not go anywhere near that mountain."

"Cursed?" Arlid asked. He quickly realised he was the centre of attention. "We've been through a fair few things together. Anything like that Dragon?"

Arnkel looked very surprised. He would probably be relieved to hear that Snakha had dealt with the issue.

"The Mage that defeated us." Ivano tapped the mountain. "The Qaiviel one. Said never to go there. I think that's where he lives. Him and the Silver Eagle girl."

Arnkel stroked his beard. "That's a long way to get a wife. Even more so to bring her back.”

“I don’t think it was that. But I know that he helped Qaiviel and that was the warning. That if we go there and if it even looks like we’re going to attack, he’s going to kill us.” Ivano took a short breath as Arnkel stepped back. “There was an archer girl he had with him too. Very, very good. Who knows what else they’ve got there. If they can survive in that place-”

“Closer to Graterious it is then.” Arnkel tapped next to the border. “Somewhere between the two, closer to their border. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“Graterious or the Mage?” Snakha asked.

“We should at least talk to them then.” Arnkel leant against the table. “Not like they’re building a hideout for criminals and cults. No. Probably just somewhere remote where they don’t have to deal with the mess that Qaiviel must be for a Mage.”

“And who would talk to them?”

“I think that’s a pretty obvious answer.”

“Me?” Ivano let out a single chuckle. “I suppose… But I can make up my own decision about this.”

His words sounded like they were to convince himself of his true authority.

“Indeed.” Arnkel nodded. “But, I don’t see another way. The Clans are not just going to change because we two want them to. The others agreed, but that could change if we don’t get some results. Maybe not them, but someone who’d want to relive the glory days of raiding and pillaging. Then-”

“We’re back to where we started.”

“Worse, actually. Any notion of peace would be forever tainted.”

“I’ll go. My home probably has squatters in it by now.”

“I sent some older warriors to keep an eye on it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Though you have your wife and children to consider.”

Ivano sighed. He wanted to give them some time to stop. To settle down, even if it was for a few days. Sibbe was going to be very, very angry.

“I’ll need supplies, and whomever you can spare for the settlement.”

“Of course.” Arnkel nodded. “We’ll follow later with more. I’m sure the Orcs will let us pass, but I’ll make sure they know you’re coming.”

“Didn’t think I’d be going home.” Snakha stroked his oversized jaw. Arnkel found it amusing, somehow.

Something tugged at Ivano’s mind. “Oh. And I’ll take those Beast-kin slaves you have in this Longhouse.”

“...Why would you want them?”

“I just do. Besides, they’ve got good noses. And you never know when that’s going to come in handy.”

Arnkel studied him for a moment. Just as quickly he gave up.

“Fine. There wasn’t much for them to do anyway. Just make sure that you get your wife to go with you. Doubt that you’d be as effective without her.”

Ivano smiled but he knew his eyes weren’t. There wasn’t a verbal threat, but it was still there. From when he escorted Sibbe and the children. Regardless, it would be nice to show them the Lowlands without worrying about being killed by everyone they met.

“I’m sure I can convince her. This is about giving all of our children a better life.”

---[]---

“Are you fucking serious?”

Ivano nearly winced at Sibbe’s immediate rebuttal. Her eyes had narrowed to pinpricks, her arms folded with her index fingers tapping her arms. It was not a good sign.

“Yes.”

Sibbe sighed at his frank reply. She scratched her hair and relaxed her stance.

“I’m just telling you that I’m not happy with this.”

“Happy with what?” Gavriel asked. The Bebbezzarian looked even more depressed than usual. Though it was probably just the cold, and being in the capital of his people’s most hated enemy.

“You’re not going to like this.”

Gavriel groaned, scrunched his eyes tight and stomped his feet. “I’m already not liking this. I’m not liking anything, dammit. So, what’s going on? Does it have something to do with that woman? What did she want with you anyway, Sibbe?”

“To tell me how to raise our children.” Sibbe shook her head, softly sighing. “She didn’t seem bad, just lonely.”

“So what awful thing did you want to tell me?”

“We’re heading south, beyond the mountains.”

Gavriel did not shout in anger, like Ivano and Sibbe expected. Even Arlid and Erik, both chatting nearby and listening in, were worried. Instead Gavriel simply closed his eyes and took a long breath, taking in the cooling and calming air.

“Okay.”

“There is some good news.” Ivano received a look from Sibbe.

“Other than continuing to travel with all of these fine people?”

“We can send you to Graterious or Qaiviel for your journey back.” Ivano received a genuine sign of curiosity. “Pay you enough to make the journey safely.”

“Now you’re just trying to make me feel better. So I don’t’ look so depressed in front of you.” Behind Gavriel’s self-deprecation was a fleeting sense of hope.

“We’re travelling to settle the old Kar Kingdom. To settle, so we can have some decent farmland and convince the more aggressive Clansmen that we’re actually worth following."

Gavriel blinked. "You're serious. You're serious, aren't you?"

“Yes.” Ivano nodded. “It’s about time you got sent home. You’ve been through enough with us. So, which way do you want to go? Graterious or Qaiviel?”

Gavriel held his chin and pondered. It was the first time in a while Ivano had seen him full of life.

“Qaiviel. No, Graterious. Yes. Definitely there. It may be a little longer to get back home…" Gavriel drew a map in the air. "But I can get a ship. Much faster than going around The Conflagration and Mycea. Not to mention the civil war's probably still raging."

We failed against a Border Fort of a country wrapped in a civil war? What choice do we have but to change?

"You are serious." Gavriel leant forward. "Right?"

Ivano produced a small pouch of gold coins, one looted from the cult the Blue Dragon destroyed.

"This will certainly cover the journey. If you think it's a little light, I'll throw in some more."

Gavriel hesitantly looked inside and sighed. "This is far too much-"

"You've been through too much." Sibbe spoke sternly. "And your wife will be looking for someone new if you don't go back soon. How many Bebbezzarians have been taken by us for this long and come back?"

Gavriel held the pouch tight. "Thank you. I won't forget this."

We're not throwing you to the wolves just yet.

"Oh, Gavriel! Tell those idiots to break the jade apart before they sell it. We'll use that money for supplies."

Another sight caught his attention; the Beast-kin slaves he now owned. Their manacles were heavy and extremely cold, covered in a thin veneer of frost, but their fur would keep them safe for a time. They had no direction other than to join their caravan and looked completely lost, like little shivering children. Ivano waved them over. The Wolf Beastkin that had gently handled his own manacles led the small group.

"Wondered where you lot got to." Ivano put on his friendliest smile. "Thought I'd have to go back to Arnkel to get you."

"Please forgive us, Master Ivano." The Wolf Beast-kin bowed his head deeply, scars emerged on the back of his neck from the collar and lashings. "We will not be so disrespectful again."

Sibbe pulled a worried expression. “Why did you want these Beast-kin servants? While having some when the kids were growing up would have been nice, they’re more than capable of taking care of themselves.”

I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what you think about them. Never met any back home. But servants is so much better than slave.

“I felt sorry for them.” Ivano noticed all of the Beast-kin were listening intently, despite their meek appearance. A necessary survival trait for their position. “Not to mention this one,”

The Wolf Beast-kin glanced up but did not hold contact.

“Treated me pretty fairly when I was imprisoned here."

The Wolf Beastkin almost smiled. "I merely fastened your chains to the floor, at my former Master's request."

"I don't know what you've been taught," Sibbe began. "But you're going to have to drop the whole Master thing. We aren't like that. None of us are."

He did not immediately respond. Ivano knew it was him that was his Master, not Sibbe. Something which irked her slightly.

"There's no need for those sorts of names. Just call me Ivano. And what do I call you?"

"Laika." His voice almost trembled. Like he never been asked, only ordered.

Laika scratched his forearm, stopped and snapped his hands back to his side. Patches of scarred skin poked through his fur. Ivano pretended not to see.

"Laika. A pleasure to meet you. I'm sure that we'll get to know each other better during our journey. Just know that I don't like the idea of slaves, but you'll still have to pull your weight. So don't listen to anyone that orders you to do something you know you shouldn't."

"Does…" A different Wolf Beast-kin spoke, her voice barely a whisper against the falling snow. "Does that mean we are free?"

Laika threw her a glare, not based in anger but concern and fear.

"A place to be free?" Ivano scratched his beard. "I guess you could call it that. Certainly no slavery, since it's so damned inefficient. And dangerous, if you want them strong enough to be useful. At least that's what Gavriel keeps telling me."

The Bebbezzarian was out of earshot, the Beast-kin did not know who to look for.

"So consider yourselves free, if it makes you feel any better. But I wouldn't recommend running away just yet. There's a lot of snow between here and… wherever you might begin to think a Beast-kin will be safe. Better to stick with us, for the moment. We have food, shelter, and a long journey ahead of us. A long time to think."

"We shall," Laika bowed. "...Ivano. We shall assist in preparing for the journey."

The female Beast-kin tried to ask something again but Laika ushered her away.

“A place where they can be free?” Sibbe raised a brow as she stood before him. “I… I don’t know about that. They’re kind of strange. Their tails are always tucked between their legs. Those claws… And they smell funny too.”

“Only because they haven’t washed in a while. It smells a hell of a lot worse when we're raiding the Lowlands, I can assure you of that. But they’ll come around, don’t you worry.” Ivano nodded towards the cart the Beast-kin had settled on taking. “I think they’ll be good hunters. Just from the size of their noses alone. And anything trying to sneak up on our settlement.”

“I suppose it’s no real difference compared to the Orcs.” Sibbe laughed. “Could you imagine it though? Our little settlement, the only place where the Beast-kin aren’t slaves or killed on sight? Certainly won’t be worse than Seocuria for them. Poor things.”

“I just hope that Mage doesn’t have an issue with them.” Ivano sighed. “We are going to be right on his doorstep.”

“Well, we’ll get to it…” Sibbe frowned and folded her arms. “Since when am I giving the little talks instead of you? Does this mean I get to command a whole Clan now?”

Ivano wrapped his arm around his wife and ushered him towards their cart. Erik and Unina waved them closer, Snakha stood to the side demonstrating how to use a knife and where to strike a larger opponent.

“Snakha will help us through their lands, I’m sure of it. At least I bloody well hope so.”

“Oh gods.” Sibbe rubbed her face harshly, until her pale skin began to turn pink. “All for our children, right?”

“For what other reason would we do anything?”

Sibbe smiled and raced to gather their children. Ivano knew it wasn’t the entire truth, almost nothing he’d witnessed was done for the betterment of the next generation. But this latest endeavour might just be what the Deweth Clans needed. A fresh start in verdant lands to drag them away from their marauding present. So long as a small group of exceedingly powerful Mages, living in the shadow of a mountain, didn’t stop them. He could only hope.

Table of Contents

Chapter 000 - Vol 1 - Prologue
Chapter 001 - Vol 1
Chapter 002 - Vol 1
Chapter 003 - Vol 1
Chapter 004 - Vol 1
Chapter 005 - Vol 1
Chapter 006 - Vol 1
Chapter 007 - Vol 1
Chapter 008 - Vol 1
Chapter 009 - Vol 1
Chapter 010 - Vol 1
Chapter 011 - Vol 1
Chapter 012 - Vol 1
Chapter 013 - Vol 1
Chapter 014 - Vol 1
Chapter 015 - Vol 1
Chapter 015.5 - Vol 1
Chapter 016 - Vol 1
Chapter 017 - Vol 1
Chapter 018 - Vol 1
Chapter 019 - Vol 1
Chapter 020 - Vol 1
Chapter 021 - Preperations (V.2)
Chapter 022 - The Forest's Secrets
Chapter 023 - The Outer Heart of Maxill
Chapter 024 - The Righteous Path
Chapter 025 - New Tension
Chapter 026 - Kal and Gods
Chapter 027 - Kobolds
Chapter 028 - Strike
Chapter 029 - Accelerated Plans
Chapter 030 - Respite
Chapter 031 - The Last Night
Chapter 032 - Maxill Reborn
Chapter 033 - A Change of Heart
Announcement
Chapter 034 - The Home Front
Chapter 035 - Siege and Revelation
Chapter 036 - Returning to Carnage
Chapter 037 - Cleaning Up
Chapter 038 - The Calm Night
Chapter 039 - Nithroel
Chapter 040 - Planning for the Future
Chapter 041 - Laying down the Law
Chapter 042 - The First Test
Chapter 043 - Cave of the Past
Chapter 044 - A short and Bloody Trial
Chapter 045 - Administration
Chapter 046 - Down to the Depths
Chapter 047 - Barred
Chapter 048 - Venom Tipped
Chapter 049 - Determinant Decision
Chapter 050 - Warcamp
Chapter 051 - Payments of all Kinds
Chapter 052 - Counterattack
Chapter 053 - Clogging Meat
Chapter 054 - Gravestone
Chapter 055 - Into the Heart
Chapter 056 - Charmed
Chapter 057 - Smoky Dust
Chapter 058 - Old tricks
Chapter 059 - Heart
Chapter 060 - Bonds
Chapter 061 - Questioning
Chapter 062 - Knight Order
Chapter 063 - The King's Justice
Chapter 064 - Family
Chapter 065 - Embers of Alliance
Chapter 066 - To the Future
Chapter 067 - The New Heroes Pt.1
Maps and Images
Chapter 068. Vol 3 - Rings and Sand
Chapter 069. Vol 3 - Blessed
Chapter 070. Vol 3 - Hints and Whispers
Chapter 071. Vol 3 - Confusion
Chapter 072. Vol 3 - Provincial Lands
Chapter 073. Vol 3 - Yellow, Blue and Red
Chapter 074. Vol 3 - Weathered Thin
Chapter 075. Vol 3 - Changes
Chapter 076. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Iron Links

Chapter 077. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Frozen Stone

Chapter 078. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - The New Heroes Pt.2

Chapter 079. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Abuse of Faith

Announcment (Not a cancellation)
Chapter 080. Vol 3 - Entry
Chapter 081. Vol 3 - Leather and Bands
Chapter 082. Vol 3 - Meaty Kebabs

Chapter 083. Vol 3 - Enchantments, Clothing & Supplies

Chapter 084. Vol 3 - Road to Battle

Chapter 085. Vol 3 - Fort Acidava

Chapter 086. Vol 3 - Fire, Water, Iron and Gold

Chapter 087. Vol 3 - Into the Breach
Christmas update
Chapter 088. Vol 3 - Six Weeping Eyes
Chapter 089. Vol 3 - Lord Cassius
Chapter 090. Vol 3 - Strega
Chapter 091. Vol 3 - Smoulder
Chapter 092. Vol 3 - Curses and Prayer

Chapter 093. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Misplaced Trust

Chapter 094. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Centaur’s Countermeasure

Chapter 095. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - By the Holy Father!

A Brief Reflection (Not a cancellation)
Chapter 96. Vol 3 - A Moment to Sit
Chapter 97. Vol 3 - Crossing the River
Chapter 98. Vol 3 - Break Away

Chapter 99. Vol 3 - Rusaddir and The Snowberry

Chapter 100. Vol 3 - Danafra
Chapter 101. Vol 3 - Legal Rescue
Chapter 102. Vol 3 - Beast-kin in the Shadows
Chapter 103. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Thessos

Chapter 104. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - The Ancient Oak's Defenders

Chapter 105. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Infiltration

Chapter 106. Vol 3 - Dragon Tooth Bay
Chapter 107. Vol 3 - Storm over Ruins
Chapter 108. Vol 3 - Safety

Chapter 109. Vol 3 - (Interlude) - Soulthor's Fate

Quick Update
Chapter 110 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Good Tidings
Chapter 110 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Good Tidings
Chapter 111 - Vol 4 - Weapons of the Old Gods

Chapter 112 - Vol 4 - Vision and Sight Restored

Chapter 113 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Clutching
Chapter 113 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Clutching
Chapter 114 - Vol 4 - Spinning and Writhing
Chapter 115 - Vol 4 - Tranquil Days
Chapter 116 - Vol 4 - Porous
Chapter 117 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Cooperation
Chapter 117 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Cooperation

Chapter 118 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Groundwork for Depature

Chapter 118 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Groundwork for Depature

Chapter 119 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 119 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 119 Pt.3 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Qaiviel in Flames

Chapter 120 - Vol 4 - Balefire Mine

Chapter 121 - Vol 4 - The White Realm

Chapter 122 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Blood Drenched Snow

Chapter 123 - Vol 4 - Jaka
Chapter 124 - Vol 4 - The Basilisk Swamp
Chapter 125 - Vol 4 - Learning
Chapter 126 - Vol 4 - The Roiling Waves
Chapter 127 - Vol 4 - First Batch
Chapter 128 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - The Calm
Chapter 128 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Before the Storm
Chapter 129 - Vol 4 - The Shadow Isles
Chapter 130 - Vol 4 - Mist Walkers
Chapter 131 - Vol 4 - Rumble in the Forest

Chapter 132 - Vol 4 - First Battle in The Shadows

Chapter 133 - Vol 4 - Maxill & Gresir
Chapter 134 - Vol 4 - Pushing Forward
Chapter 135 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Spiteful Elders
Chapter 135 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Spiteful Elders
Chapter 136 - Vol 4 - Beasts in the Dream
Chapter 137 - Vol 4 - Shadows in the Sand
Chapter 138 - Vol 4 - The Green Moon
Chapter 139 - Vol 4 - Respite
Chapter 140 - Vol 4 - Quick Foray

Chapter 141 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 141 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 141 Pt.3 - Vol 4 - Strike in the Darkness

Chapter 142 - Vol 4 - Castle Etoile
Chapter 143 - Vol 4 - King Leo's First Battle
Chapter 144 - Vol 4 - Silver
Chapter 145 - Vol 4 - King and Key

Chapter 146 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - The King's Subterfuge

Chapter 146 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - The King's Subterfuge

Chapter 147 - Vol 4 - Light Surgery
Chapter 148 - Vol 4 - Clausonne in Reach
Chapter 149 - Vol 4 - Cardinal's Gambit
Chapter 150 - Vol 4 - All Hail the King!
Chapter 151 - Vol 4 - Closing Evening
Chapter 152 - Vol 4 - Troubling Dreams
Chapter 153 - Vol 4 - The Qaiviel Kingdom
Chapter 154 Pt.1 - Vol 4 - Ripples of Qaiviel
Chapter 154 Pt.2 - Vol 4 - Ripples of Qaiviel

Chapter 155 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - The Home Front

Chapter 156 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Dancing Deers

Chapter 157 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Growing Turbulence

Chapter 158 - Vol 4 - Storm Strider's Treasures

Chapter 159 - Vol 4 - Diamonds in the rough
Chapter 160 - Vol 4 - Last Gasp
Chapter 161 - Vol 4 - Twin Resolutions
Chapter 162 - Vol 4 - Red Spines

Chapter 163 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - Flidhor's Frozen Prize

Chapter 164 - Vol 4 - (Interlude) - The New Heroes Pt. 3

Chapter 165 - Vol 4 - The Pantheon

Update!

Volume 05 - Chapter 01 - Into the Depths Again

Volume 05 - Chapter 02 - The Royal Academy

Volume 05 - Chapter 03 - Alcanares, the Bebbezzar Port City

Volume 05 - Chapter 04 - The Burning Light
Volume 05 - Chapter 05 - Mezot's new spell
Volume 05 - Chapter 06 - The Dwarven Isles
Volume 05 - Chapter 07 - Chirok Scouting

Volume 05 - Chapter 08 - Seocuria's Long Vigil

Volume 05 - Chapter 09 - Brutal Measures

Volume 05 - Chapter 10 - The First Principle Mage

Volume 05 - Chapter 11 - A Brief Wander
Volume 05 - Chapter 12 - The Cold Winds
Volume 05 - Chapter 13 - Balefire Mine

Volume 05 - Chapter 14 - Surdon, Heart of the Infestation

Volume 05 - Chapter 15 - Disconcerting Dwarves

Volume 05 - Chapter 16 - Prototyping
Volume 05 - Chapter 17 - A Bodyguard's Secret
Volume 05 - Chapter 18 - Worthless Paper
Volume 05 - Chapter 19 - Thundering Hooves
Volume 05 - Chapter 20 - Khan
Volume 05 - Chapter 21 - Mezot's Concerns
Volume 05 - Chapter 22 - The Burning Light
Volume 05 - Chapter 23 - Mezot's Confirmation
Volume 05 - Chapter 24 - Outpost
Volume 05 - Chapter 25 - Feudal Land

Volume 05 - Chapter 26 - Revolutionaries (And a little extra surprise)

Volume 05 - Chapter 27 - Thessos

Volume 05 - Chapter 28 - (Interlude) - Ivano's Troubles

Volume 05 - Chapter 29 - (Interlude) - The Cardinal's Work

Volume 05 - Chapter 30 - (Interlude) - Sally's Resolve

Volume 05 - Chapter 31 - Resolving Thessos
Volume 05 - Chapter 32 - Dwarven Orthodoxy
Volume 05 - Chapter 33 - Imperial Decree
Volume 05 - Chapter 34 - Imperial Debut
Volume 05 - Chapter 35 - Lure
Volume 05 - Chapter 36 - Flight from Boreana
Volume 05 - Chapter 37 - Resolute

Volume 05 - Chapter 38 - The Rough and Gentle Giant

Volume 05 - Chapter 39 - Interuptions

Volume 05 - Chapter 40 - Warmth

Volume 05 - Chapter 41 - (Interlude) - Khan's Blood

Volume 05 - Chapter 42 - (Interlude) - The Lands of the Vampires

Volume 05 - Chapter 43 - (Interlude) - Vampiric Teasing Games

Volume 05 - Chapter 44 - (Interlude) - Sally's Deadly Deed

Volume 05 - Chapter 45 - Unexpected Arrival

Volume 05 - Chapter 46 - The Second Night of Flames

Volume 05 - Chapter 47 - Danafra Rebels

Volume 05 - Chapter 48 - Frindal

Volume 05 - Chapter 49 - Freedom from the Arena

Volume 05 - Chapter 50 - The Nomad CLans

Volume 05 - Chapter 51 - Scurrying Past

Volume 05 - Chapter 52 - (Interlude) - Sally Settling

Volume 05 - Chapter 53 - Sana Vākara
Volume 05 - Chapter 54 - Desert Mysteries
Volume 05 - Chapter 55 - Verona's Waiting

Volume 05 - Chapter 56 - Graveyard of Noble Beasts

Volume 05 - Chapter 57 - Al Qadikha
Chapter 001 - Consequences (Rewrite)
Volume 05 - Chapter 58 - Scaled Tails

Volume 05 - Chapter 59 - Well Deserved Downtime

Volume 05 - Chapter 60 - (Interlude) - Seocuria Stirs

Volume 05 - Chapter 61 - Peaceful Days
Volume 05 - Chapter 62 - Shopping Adventure
Volume 05 - Chapter 63 - The Depths Open
Volume 05 - Chapter 64 - Hobbled Help
Volume 05 - Chapter 65 - The White Realm Pt.1
Volume 05 - Chapter 66 - The White Realm Pt.2
Volume 05 - Chapter 67 - The White Realm Pt.3

Volume 05 - Chapter 60.1 - (Interlude) - Ivano & The Blood Berserkers

Volume 05 - Chapter 60.2 - (Interlude) - Ivano returns to Ragnarvellir